A Half-Millennium of Change

I finished reading Pelikan yesterday. (Of course, now I have to add the rest of the series to my reading list, especially vol. 2.) As I read the final chapter, discussing the state of Christianity around AD 600, I thought about the change that had occurred within the church over half a millennium. As someone who has a special interest in the 2nd century, I found the church entering the 7th century was a much different entity, both in practice and belief. There had been much clarification and solidification of several major doctrines, and many liturgical innovations as well. The church was politically connected to the Empire; no longer was it a persecuted minority.

Yet as I thought about it, it shouldn't be so strange that so much had changed over what is quite a long period of time. To put it in perspective, 500 years ago the Western church was still six years from Luther's Ninety-five Theses. While there was a reformative unrest in the church, the fuse had not yet been lit. In the Eastern church, less than 60 years had passed since the fall of Constantinople, and the church was still dealing with the fallout from that event. The changes since those days have made our own half-millennium at least equally interesting.

What is truly intriguing about the changes in the first 500 years of the church is the way those changes took place in the context of an era without the rapid transit and information options of our own age. Of course, that also may have been a plus; sometimes we spend so much time and effort reacting to the latest news that we fail to truly digest what is important. Athanasius couldn't send out a quick, hot e-mail in response to an Arian publication. He would have time to read it, and his reaction was written out over a period of time that allowed him time to really think it through. (This doesn't mean all correspondence or writings were carefully thought out, but it's probably safe to say they took a little more thought than those of our age generally do.)

The other factor that impressed me is how much of the catholic consensus that existed in 600 still underlies the theology of the varied branches of Christianity today. Catholic, Orthodox, and Protestant alike recite the Nicene Creed, and find support for what they believe in the writings of the Fathers. (Admittedly, Protestants do it less than the other branches, and the Orthodox seem a little more attached to the ancient Fathers due to the rise of the papacy in the West.) While the world of patristic Christianity is certainly not the same as our world today, we still find ourselves all part of one universal brotherhood.

That idea should help to cure us of some of the arrogance we exhibit in modern Christian circles. We often prefer to hear the latest idea, and to follow teachers who proclaim that they have discovered something new to add to the faith. Surprisingly, the "latest" idea often turns out to be something that has been known and taught for centuries. Some perspective on those who have gone before us, and on whose shoulders we stand, is needed to give us a wider perspective on the church, not only geographically but chronologically as well. In heaven, we will be worshipping God with brothers and sisters from all ages, and growing together with them forever.

A half of a millennium will seems a few days then; when we have the ability to meet our ancestors through what they have left for us, it should not separate us as a family now.

The "Common Christian"

In reading Pelikan's  The Christian Tradition, I appreciate the way he notes that our understanding of the development of Christian belief is often colored by the materials we have available to study. In one sense, what we know about Christian doctrine in its earliest days is really what a small number of apologists and writers believed. It is rather like assuming that modern theological discussion in churches consists of those issues that the systematic theologians choose to discuss. As an active pastor, I know this is not the case.

Pelikan is careful to note this tendency. We don't have much choice but to find our data on Christian doctrine in those documents extant today. We certainly can't read lost works! At the same time, what was believed and taught in the church at large was not likely as detailed as the academics of that day make it sound. Pelikan looks for clues to the doctrine of what might be called "common Christians" in the liturgical writings and practices that we know from the era.

Belief was likely much simpler and more direct for most Christians. Few would undertake to read, much less try to understand, the writings of Clement of Alexandria, Origen, or Irenaeus. They would simply hold to the early creedal statements and the teaching of their pastors and bishops, and practice the liturgical traditions they knew.

This is really no different for the modern church. Despite widespread education in the West, few Christians take time to study academic theology and wrestle with the complex issues about which theologians argue. Most Christians (even leaving aside the casual and cultural Christians who have little understanding of their faith at all) are confessional; they accept what their church teaches without concerning themselves about all the details of those positions. They engage in the liturgical practices of their church without worrying about just what all of that symbolizes.

This might seem like a harsh criticism, but I don;t mean it in that way. While I would like to see more of the members of my church engaged in deep study of the Scriptures and researching why we believe as we do, I understand that this is not a major priority for most people. It also demonstrates a trust in the clergy and leaders of the church. Most church members of any denomination will believe that their pastor is someone who understands the faith, and can teach them what is true and necessary to live for Jesus.

Of course, this places a burden on those who are teachers. We have the trust of many, and must not abuse that trust. One of the reasons for the rise of heresy in the early church was an insistence by heretical teachers that they alone could be trusted, that they alone had the truth. They took the trust of their followers and abused it to enhance their own teachings. We must be careful that what we teach is the Word of God and not our own ideas.

I see no reason to anticipate a rise in theological interest in the church at large today. (In some segments, it may even be that the reverse is true!) The "common Christian" will continue to believe and to practice Christianity as taught by those who lead them. The concerns of academia will not necessarily be theirs, but their Christian belief will be far more representative of the faith of our era than the mass of our theological writings. This should humble us, even as it encourages us to teach faithfully.