Brett's Discernment

“O paradoxical mystery!”¹

The perspectives and voices of the early church are charged with the paradox of being excited and joyful about their life in Christ and yet surrounding that joy with mystery, composed of secrecy and fear of the “other.” These roots, embedded in the theology and history of the early church, are ones which by its own nature start to break up and present challenges to the unity of a so-called catholic church in a diverse, pluralistic world. It is important that we as the church today, and upholding many of these traditions and beliefs established and practiced by the ancient church, understand the history and development of that early church. In developing this understanding, pivotal questions are raised which ask us to examine ourselves as the current church. Have we moved away or are we still living the ecclesiological mystery? Are we living as a church who, through not defining itself loudly to the world, lives a paradox of supposedly calling through evangelism but keeping secret who we are and what we do? Is it possible to understand the church to be both united as the body of Christ and necessarily diverse, without trying to change or colonize the diversity within the body?

The environment of the first three centuries C.E. influenced the development of the early church directly in a variety of ways. Each of these factors shaped the identity of the understanding of what the Christian church was to be; through these factors the church developed a paradoxical identity, resulting in the mystery. The early church tried to carve out an identity and loyalty from the dominant culture and reinforce the radical belief of true monotheism. Clement of Alexandria² and others emphasize this view, pulling the church's corporate identity from 1 Peter 2:9, “chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, in order that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” Despite the latter part of the verse's insistence on evangelism, fear and insecurity are dominant in the early church. Hence, there is reflected in the perspectives of the early church writers and apologists a fear of the “other,” a sense of danger at hand and importance of following strictly the close-knit community of Christ that they were building. Ignatius represents this paradox well: “It is good to stay away from such persons and not even to talk about them . . . But flee division as the worst of evils.”³ Such a fear of corrupting one's own blessing by being involved with any type of heresy would naturally develop an aura of inclusion/exclusion, of insecurity which would propagate the mystery of church from its beginnings.

Other factors emerge as historically and traditionally significant in understanding the church. The governmental, political, and social establishment contemporary to the early church dictated a dangerous world for early Christians, making it hard to live out a public faith, especially one which asked one to be in the world but not of the world. The dominant culture could not comprehend the church because of its stance in society as so separate – as “Celsus opposed the 'sectarian' tendencies at work in the Christian movement because he saw in Christianity a 'privatizing' of religion . . . It was, however, not simply that Christians subverted the cities by refusing to participate in civic life, but that they undermined the foundations of the societies in which they lived.”⁴ The church, in taking the advice of Jesus and Paul to not be conformed to this world, developed a mysterious sense to outsiders, which would make them question what the church held at its center.

The apostolic tradition was seen as the central gift and heritage which was meant to be the compass for understanding the church from the inside out in years to come. The church was surrounded by a pluralistic, diverse, and quickly changing culture, the Christians recognize the apostolic works and traditions as the Word of God and feel it their call to not let the world distract them from it. This is especially challenging, given the wide growth of the church to Gentiles and people of all types who were used to the faith of Greco-Roman polytheism and the wild and grassroots popularity of mystery cults. These represented a wider culture which deemed it perfectly acceptable to worship a variety of ways, religions, and gods, without any internal dissonance or disloyalty.

Yet early Christian writers are clear in that their new church is set apart, in clear opposition, and nothing should distract them from the truth not only of Jesus Christ, but the apostolic tradition. Irenaeus writes clearly about this in Against Heresies, “It is not appropriate to seek among others the truth which it is easy to obtain from the church, for the apostles conferred fully on her all that there is of the truth, like the rich deposit money in the banks, so that whoever wants to may obtain the water of life from her . . . It is necessary certainly to avoid them, but to choose with the highest care what is of the church and to lay hold on the tradition of the truth.”⁵ This intense devotion to the Christian apostolic tradition in action and words seems a near-universal theme in the early writers and from the Didache (11.1-2)⁶, which ironically leads to division, fear, labeling as heresy, and a devotion to protecting the central Christian truth. What an important lesson for us as Christians today, the power of defining lines of faith so sharply that we put some on the outside. There are so many relevant questions from these ancient themes which we must ask ourselves today, for which I do not expect to have the answers. Do we still limit the gospel in the names of “unity” and “tradition?” Do we explain our traditions enough and forthright enough to be open to inviting the whole world to be the body of Christ? Is this paradox of who we are as church, as body of Christ, simply a reflection of the paradox we live in faith and daily life – simul iustus et peccator? Especially as a Lutheran, perhaps we can understand the church most fully by embracing that balance of paradox.

In conclusion, it is of paramount importance that in discussing the balanced paradox that the church lives to establish and recognize the great joy and idealistic unity the early Christians saw themselves as a part. So perhaps it is most fitting to end with a very old statement which still resonates to the hope we feel in our expression of the church today and in the future, from Clement of Alexandria, ““As we are made good, let us strive for unity in the same way, seeking the good Monad. Now the union of many, taking on a divine harmony from multiple notes and differences, becomes a divine symphony, when it follows one truth, saying, 'Abba, Father' (Mark 14:36; Rom 8:15). God welcomes this sound as the one which is truly from his own children and receives from them their first fruits.”⁷ Amen.