By Harris Franklin Rall
The Life of the Later ChurchWe have no such writings as Paul's letters to the Corinthians to give us the picture of the life of the church in the last part of the century. Some facts we may gather from the late epistles and the book of Revelation. Aside from these we have only the writings outside the New Testament which come from the early part of the second century. Two questions call for answer: (1) What was the inner life of the church? (2) What was its place in the empire? There are two words around which we may gather the story of these last years of the first century and opening decades of the second. They are bishops and martyrs. The first word suggests the change that took place in the inner life and organization of the church. The different steps of this change we cannot tell, but we do know the marked contrast between the church of 150 and the churches at the time of Paul's death. The churches of Paul had only the simplest organization, as we have seen. Men talked of service, not of authority. This service was of many kinds, but it was all the gift of one Spirit. The inspired prophets and teachers of the Word stood first. But the Spirit belonged to the whole church. A century later all this is changed. We find three offices in each church—bishop, elders. and deacons; but the authority is in the hands of the one man, the bishop. He is no longer the simple overseer. He has taken up within himself the various duties that at first belonged to different men or to the church as a whole. The practical affairs of the church are still in his hands, but these are of greatly increased importance. He has charge of the worship. Men are beginning to feel that the inspiration is no longer in the church as a whole, or in certain prophets and teachers, but in the bishop. The simple, unregulated worship is gone. There is no longer any chance for the irregularities that appeared at Corinth. The bishop presides at the service, which follows a regular order, and it is he that preaches. He has charge of the church discipline. The apostles and eyewitnesses are gone. He represents the tradition of what the true faith is. Instead of a group of overseers or elders, this bishop stands alone. Just what the position of the elders is we do not know. The deacons are simply the officers who carry out the bishop's directions. As yet, however, the bishop is not placed over any district or diocese; he simply directs the life of the one congregation. All this took place very gradually. We do not know the steps, but we know some of the causes. (1) There was the decline of faith in immediate inspiration. The first outburst of enthusiasm gradually passed. There was a lessening number of prophets who felt themselves directly inspired. (2) There was found to be a need of regulating these inspired leaders. Paul had met this at Corinth. The inspiration did not always seem to be genuine or profitable to the church. All manner of things could be said and done and the claim made that they were inspired. Early writings show that some of these "prophets" made their inspiration a means of living off the church, and rules had to be adopted to guard against this. The conflict between the "officials" and the "inspired" leaders lasted through the second century, but long before the end the regularly chosen officials had taken the first place. (3) The same need of order appeared in other respects. As the church grew, its practical interests increased in importance and number. Matters of discipline, of the care of the poor, of protection in times of persecution, of representation of the local church so that it could act with other churches, and other like interest demanded responsible men in permanent position. With the second century questions of doctrine became ever more important. Over against all manner of vagaries and strange teachings these officials stood as the custodians and guarantors of the faith handed down from the apostles. It has been suggested by some that the third epistle of John is a witness of the early stage of the controversy between the regular official, or bishop, and the inspired prophets. Diotrephes seems to have been such an official who refused to welcome the traveling prophets when they came: "Neither doth he himself receive the brethren, and them that would he forbiddeth and casteth them out of the church" (3 John 10). He is censured as a church boss, "who loveth to have the preeminence." Gaius, to whom the letter is addressed, is bidden to receive the "brethren and strangers," and to set them forward on their journey. All these changes occurred gradually, and they were in process during the last years of the first century. In its moral life the church seems to have made steady advance. Roman critics of Christianity like Pliny admit the moral excellence of the life of its followers. The writings of this time all show the constant emphasis upon the pure and true life. The charity of the church was especially rich and beautiful. And yet there was wisdom in its exercise. The traveling brother was cared for two or three days. If he did not pass on then, he was to work; but the church was to help him find employment. The church had followed in the line of Paul's teaching: "If any will not work, neither let him eat" (2 Thess 3:10). No doubt the industry and sobriety which the church inculcated helped to make it an economic force in the empire. The regular worship of the church was on the first day of the week. Though more and more under the direct leadership of one official, it was still a very simple service. Lessons were read from the prophets of the Old Testament. New Testament writings were not yet placed by the side of this as Sacred Scripture, but there is little doubt that in different parts of the church letters of Paul or portions of gospel story were read, the latter being called the "memoirs of the apostles." In earlier days the prophets and other inspired leaders would speak; later this fell to the officials. The church had inherited the psalms from the synagogue and used these in her service. To these she added Christian hymns. It is perhaps a portion of one of these that we have in 1 Tim 3:16: He who was manifested in the flesh, Justified in the spirit, Seen of angels, Preached among the nations, Believed on in the world, Received up in glory. The Lord's Supper was celebrated in the morning. The regular church supper, known as the love feast, or agape, had been separated from the former and was held in the evening. From the close of this period, that is, about the middle of the second century, dates the first formal creed of the church so far as known, probably originating in Rome. It was used by the candidate for baptism. The earliest baptism was with the simple words, "in the name of Jesus." Later the baptism was "in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit." This trinitarian formula was now expanded into a creed which still moved about the three persons of the Trinity. "I believe in God the Father almighty; and in Christ Jesus his only begotten Son, our Lord; born of the Holy Spirit and the Virgin Mary, crucified under Pontius Pilate and buried, arising on the third day from the dead, seated on the right hand of God, whence he cometh to judge the living and the dead. And I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy church, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the flesh." Like everything else at this time, this creed was referred back to the apostles and so was called the Apostles' Creed. The first day of the week was regularly used for worship, and this may have been the case from the first. Its Christian name was Lord's Day (Rev I. 10). It was never called the Sabbath day, and was never by the early Christians identified with the latter. Paul had classed the Sabbath days with other Jewish customs made obsolete by the gospel (Col 2:16, 17; Gal 4:9, 10). As Sunday was not the Sabbath day, the Christians did not refrain from labor upon it. It was first of all a day of worship and gladness. Gradually it came to be a day of rest. But it was centuries before any one thought of confounding the Christian Lord's Day with the Jewish Sabbath, or of applying the fourth commandment to the former. The other word about which the history of this period may be centered is that of martyr. It is the time of beginning persecutions on the part of the state. The word "martyr" means simply "witness," and the martyr was one who gave witness to his faith at peril or at cost of his life. It was Nero that began this persecution. The great conflagration at Rome occurred in the year 64. Rightly or wrongly, the popular mind charged Nero with the deed. Nor were the people satisfied even when he began to reimburse those that had suffered loss and to rebuild the city in splendid manner. They wanted some one to suffer for the crime. Nero picked upon the Christians for this purpose. They were poor, they were disliked. The people were ready to see them suffer, especially as their death was made a public sport; and Nero diverted attention from himself. This of itself was simply an episode, but it seems that what Nero began in this special manner became a more or less settled attitude of hostility to the Christians on the part of the state. We are not sure of the date of the later writings of the New Testament, but Peter, large portions of First Timothy, James, and Revelation all come within this time, and all of these refer to persecutions. Almost exactly a century after the burning of Rome, Pliny was sent by the emperor Trajan to be governor of Bithynia and Pontus in Asia Minor. There he found that the Christian religion had spread very widely, not simply in the cities where it was always strongest, but in villages and country also. The temples were being deserted, and trades that depended upon the temple patronage were being interfered with, such as the sale of fodder for animals kept for sacrifice. Pliny writes to inquire just how he is to proceed against the Christians, and whether he has been taking the right course. He does not ask whether he should proceed against them, but simply how; and the whole correspondence, which has been preserved for us, suggests that the hostile attitude of the state toward the Christians was a recognized policy. Why should the empire have persecuted the Christians? It was not religious intolerance, for the empire welcomed and adopted all manner of faiths from all lands. It was not the crimes of the Christians. Whenever serious investigation was made, as by Pliny, the popular charges were seen to be unfounded. The real reason was political, with popular hatred pushing on the officers of the state. The one thing upon which Rome insisted was the unity of the empire and absolute reverence for her laws and order. With these interests Christianity seemed to interfere. And first with the principle of "unity. The first fault of the Christians was that they stood for a unity which was not that of the empire. It was the unity of their faith, their brotherhood, of the kingdom of God. The Romans wanted no other bond of unity than that of the empire. With religious societies and religious meetings there was no interference. But other associations were most carefully watched. Benefit clubs among the poor, such as those with burial funds, were about the only associations tolerated, and these were strictly controlled. It was the fear of anything like a common political association among the people which countries like Russia and Turkey show in our own day. The Christians kept the laws of the empire. They planned no insurrection. The church was no political organization. And yet the government discerned rightly that here was a force that in its final spirit was opposed to the spirit of autocracy that belonged to Rome. Nevertheless the church in the end might have saved the empire, if her help had been called upon soon enough. Rome relied upon an external and autocratic power to hold the empire. That was not enough. It was the decay of the people that caused her doom, and the church might have changed that decay into life. Later on the refusal of the Christians to worship the emperor was a charge brought against them. But this too was looked upon as political and not religious. The worship of the emperor was simply one part of the plan to assert and secure the political unity of the empire. This emperor cult is referred to in Rev 13 as the worship of the beast. Back of this principle of the state there lay the strong prejudice of the people which was shared by officers and emperors as well. The prejudice took many forms. (1) There was the opposition, such as Paul met at Ephesus, of tradesmen whose business suffered by the spread of Christianity with its hostility to pagan worship and to the practice of vice. Then, as now, there were large profits joined to such practices, and we need only think of the hostility shown today by those who make profit from commercialized vice in saloon and gambling den and brothel. (2) There was no doubt personal opposition from those whose families had been divided, who saw believers separating from fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters because of the new faith. Enemies could only explain this strange power over converts by charging sorcery and magic, (3) There were unfounded charges that were raised against the Christians for centuries. The Lord's Supper, with its wine used as symbol of blood, was made the occasion for the story that Christians killed little children and drank their blood, just as the charge of ritual murder against the Jews still persists in Russia today. Profligacy was charged because of the secret meetings at which both sexes were present. (4) More than anything else, it was the inflexible attitude of the Christians about certain matters that angered the people and brought the severe condemnation of even men like Pliny and later on the emperor Marcus Aurelius. Aside from Judaism, Christianity represented here something wholly new in religion, for which even Marcus Aurelius had no comprehension. For the Romans religion was a matter of social custom and convention. Its forms could be changed or added to at will. To add a new form or a new god might be very wise and safe. It might even be well to erect an altar to an "unknown god," lest one should have been overlooked. In any case, there was no possible harm in such conformity. For the Christians religion was a principle of conscience and a supreme loyalty to one God: "We must obey God rather than men." To others the attitude of the Christians seemed nothing short of willful perversity and wicked obstinacy. "Especially did this appear when they were brought up for trial. Often all that was asked was to pour out a little wine before a shrine of the emperor, or to deny the Name with which they were called, the name of Christ. Such refusal angered officials as well as people. To the former it seemed highly dangerous: it was the spirit of insubordination which in an individual might not be serious, but in a great and growing fellowship meant danger to the empire. For this reason, as we learn from Pliny's letters, it was thought enough to convict a man of being a Christian, even though no special crimes were charged against him. Over against this, the Christian leaders of the second century pleaded that they might be convicted upon the proof of crime, not by the charges of prejudice. Their position is nobly voiced by a word of Justin Martyr that has come down from the middle of this century: "It is our maxim that we can suffer harm from none, unless we be convicted as doers of evil, or proved to be wicked. You may slay us, indeed, but you cannot hurt us. But, lest any should say that this is a senseless and rash assertion, I entreat that the charges against us may be examined; and if they be substantiated, let us be punished as is right." He pleads that "neither by prejudice nor desire of popularity from the superstitious, nor by any unthinking impulse of zeal, nor by that evil report which has so long kept possession of your minds, you may be urged to give a decision against yourselves." The book of Revelation is a writing born out of this situation of persecution and danger. It may be studied either as an apocalypse of the future, giving us prediction of what is to be, or as a book of religion written to strengthen faith and give comfort. All apocalypses have this double character. They come out of times of great persecution and danger. Their purpose is to encourage the faithful lest they fall away. The method of these books is that of visions. The writers are prophets who see. They use pictures and symbols constantly. These pictures are not original with the individual writer. They are more or less the common language of such productions. While we cannot interpret with certainty all the symbols of the book, its general meaning on the apocalyptic side is clear. It sets forth the story of the future in pictures. Rome has been persecuting the Christians. Her time is now fulfilled. She is the Babylon that is to be destroyed. The world is hopelessly evil. Salvation is to come not by the growth and spread of the Christian faith, but by a great catastrophe which is to destroy the present world. Then the New Jerusalem is to be let down out of heaven. In it the saints are to be gathered together and God is to dwell with them in the city of light. All this apocalypticism represents something taken over from the Jewish church of which Christianity was gradually ridding itself. More and more the church saw that the world was to be changed and the kingdom was to come by gradual moral and spiritual conquest, and for this reason many opposed the reception of this book into the New Testament. But all this must not hide from us the real message of the work. That lies in its practical purpose which is apparent all the way through. The book was probably written about 95, in the reign of Domitian, but it reflects the conditions of Nero's persecution as well. The disciples are in danger. They are facing the demand that they should worship the beast, that is, the image of the emperor, or else be put to death (Rev 13:15). The writer sets before them the end that is near at hand. He brings a message of warning: the Lord is coming as a thief in the night; let his followers cleanse themselves from all evil, for he will give to each one according to his works. But above all he writes for encouragement, that he may help believers to remain faithful. The words of warning are found especially in the messages to the seven churches of Asia Minor to which the writing is addressed. These opening chapters give us a picture of the church life of the time. On the whole, the picture is encouraging. Three dangers are in these warnings. There was the danger of simple indifference, the loss of spiritual life: "Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead" (3:1). "I know thy works, that thou art neither cold nor hot" (3:15). There was the danger of sinful laxness, such as appeared at Corinth, joining in the old idol feasts and pagan practices. This is probably what is meant by the reference to the Nicolaitans (2:6), to Balaam (2:14, 15), and to "the woman Jezebel" (2:20). Such faithlessness is called fornication, after the manner of the Old Testament prophets. The third danger was that of apostasy. It is significant of the higher moral life of the churches that the references are not to common immoralities. The dominant note, however, is that of encouragement. Let the disciples be faithful, first of all, because of the sure reward. "To him that overcometh, to him will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is in the paradise of God." "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee the crown of life" (2:7, 10). In varied phrase there is set forth again and again the reward for "him that overcometh." The second cause for encouragement for the persecuted Christians is the coming overthrow of Rome and the powers of evil. Rome is "Babylon the Great," "the woman drunken with the blood of the saints," "the great city, which reigneth over the kings of the earth" (17:5, 6, 18). But her hour is come. The kings of the earth and the merchants who shared in her wealth shall look on and mourn her destruction and her torment. Not so the saints: "Rejoice over her, thou heaven and ye saints, and ye apostles, and ye prophets; for God hath judged your judgment upon her" (18:9-20). The final cause for encouragement is the vision of the glory that awaits the saints, the new heaven and new earth that are to come when the old is destroyed. "And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of the throne saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he shall dwell with them, and they shall be his peoples, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God" (21:1-4). The real message of the book lies not in the visions of destruction nor in other prophecies of things to come. Neither do we find it in the elaborate pictures of the new Jerusalem, with its equal length and breadth and height. Rather it is in that great faith which breathes through all Messianic and apocalyptic hope from the Old Testament prophets on: No forces of evil can stand out against the power of God. Whatever the oppression and the burden now, God and good and righteousness shall rule in the earth. The persecution of the Christians continued intermittently long after this period. The actual number of the martyred was not so large. There were probably fewer Christians that lost their lives in any one persecution than there were Chinese Christians who suffered at the hands of the Boxers or Armenian believers at the hands of the Turks in these last years. But the danger was an always present one, though active persecution came and went; and it was held over the Christians by the all-embracing power of the great empire. More important than the actual number slain was the effect upon the life of the church. In times of active persecution not a few fell away. The church as a whole proved steadfast, and the noble example of loyal martyrs was of the deepest influence. Men remembered such words as those of Polycarp, who suffered in 166: "Fourscore and six years have I served him, and he has done me no wrong. How, then, can I speak evil of my King, who saved me?" Through all these years Christianity spread steadily. It entered the army. From the cities it spread to village and country. It began with the lowest ranks, but it reached some of wealth and high station. There is good reason to hold that Flavius Clemens, consul and cousin of the emperor, who was executed by Domitian, suffered that fate for being a Christian, as was also his wife Flavia Domitilla. "We are but of yesterday," writes Tertullian proudly a century or so later, "and yet we already fill your cities, islands, camps, your palace, senate, and forum. We have left you only your temples." Directions for Reading and Study
|
|
|