READING HALLTHE DOORS OF WISDOM |
BOOK I
FROM THE PERSECUTION OF THE CHURCH BY NERO TO CONSTANTINE’S EDICT OF TOLERATION. A.D. 64-313.CHAPTER VIII.
SUPPLEMENTARY
Progress of the Gospel.
There is reason to believe that, by the end of the
third century, the gospel had been made known in some degree to almost all the
nations with which the Romans had intercourse, although we have very little
information as to the details of its progress, or as to the agency by which
this was effected. From an early period Christian writers are found appealing
triumphantly to the extension of their brotherhood.
“There exists not”, says Justin Martyr, “a people,
whether Greek or barbarian, or any other race of men, by whatsoever appellation
or manners they may be distinguished, however ignorant of arts or of
agriculture, whether they dwell under tents or wander about in covered waggons, among whom prayers [and thanksgivings] are not
offered up in the name of a crucified Jesus to the Father and Creator of all
things”. Irenaeus declares that in his day many barbarous nations had the
traditional faith of the church written in their hearts by the Holy Spirit,
without the instrumentality of paper and ink. Tertullian, in reckoning up the
nations which had received the gospel, names, in addition to those which
were represented at Jerusalem on the great day of Pentecost,—Getulians, Moors, Spaniards, Gauls, Britons beyond the
Roman pale, Sarmatians, Dacians, Germans, and Scythians. Origen speaks of it as
having won myriads of converts among every nation and kind of men; as having
carried its conquests to a large extent over the barbaric world. Arnobius, an eloquent African apologist, who wrote about
the year 304, in one passage mentions widely distant nations among which
Christians were found, and elsewhere asserts that there was then no nation of
barbarians which had not been affected by the softening influence of the
gospel. Such passages are not, indeed, free from rhetorical vagueness and
exaggeration; but, after all reasonable abatement, they must be admitted as
evidence that, in the times when they were written, the faith of Christ had
been widely diffused, and in many quarters had penetrated beyond the bounds of
civilization.
Although the narrative of the preceding chapters has
been for the most part confined to the countries bordering on the
Mediterranean, the accounts of Pantaenus and Origen have brought
before us notices of Christianity in regions which are vaguely designated by
the names of Arabia and India; and the story of Manes has shown the existence
of Christian communities in Persia and Mesopotamia. The church of Edessa,
whatever may be the value of the statements which ascribe to it an apostolic
origin, is known to have been firmly established in the middle of the
second century; and shortly after that date the
Edessan Bardesanes witnesses to the propagation of the gospel in
Parthia, Persia, Media, and Bactria. It was not until towards the end of the
period that it was introduced into Armenia; but the apostle of that country,
Gregory, styled the Illuminator, made a convert of the
king, Tiridates III, and Armenia had the honour of being the first country in which Christianity was adopted as the national
religion.
From the time when they which were scattered abroad
upon the persecution which arose about Stephen went everywhere preaching the
word, the calamities which drove Christians from their homes became the means
of spreading the tidings of salvation. We have seen that such consequences
followed from the banishment of bishops and clergy under Decius and Valerian;
and thus it was that the Goths in Moesia derived their first knowledge of the
faith from captives whom they had carried off after inroads on the empire
during the reigns of Valerian and Gallienus.
Irenaeus, towards the end of the second century,
speaks of churches as existing among the Celts, in Spain, and in Germany. His
mention of the last of these countries ought, perhaps, to be understood as referring
to the Roman province only—the portion within the Rhine; but it is probable
that, in the course of the following century, converts had also been won among
the barbarous nations to the eastward of that river.
Of the early history of Christianity in Gaul very
little is known. It is hardly to be supposed that Pothinus and
his Asiatic companions, the founders of the church of Lyons, were the earliest
missionaries who appeared in that country; but they were the first of whom any
authentic record is preserved, or whose works had any considerable success.
Gregory of Tours, who wrote towards the end of the sixth century, states that
in the reign of Decius seven missionaries set out from Rome for the conversion
of Gaul, and that among them was Dionysius, bishop of Paris, who is confounded
by later legendary writers with the Areopagite of the apostolic age. That there
may have been some such mission about the time which is assigned for it, is not
improbable; but the story as told by Gregory is inconsistent with
unquestionable facts, and the work of the missionaries, if they were really
sent into Gaul about the middle of the third century, must have consisted in
strengthening and extending the church of that country—not in laying its
foundation by the first introduction of the faith.
The origin of the British church is involved in fable.
The story of Joseph of Arimathea’s preaching, and even the correspondence
of an alleged British king Lucius with Eleutherius, bishop of Rome, about the
year 167, need not be here discussed. Yet within about thirty years from the
supposed date of that correspondence, we meet with the statement already quoted
from Tertullian, that the gospel had made its way into parts of this island
which the Romans had never reached,—a statement which may be supposed to
indicate that, in the end of the second century, even Scotland had not been
unvisited by missionaries. Somewhat later than Tertullian, Origen speaks of
Britons, “although divided from our world”, as united with Mauritanians in the
worship of the same one God. It seems to be certain that under the government
of Constantius and his son, at the end of the period which we have been
surveying, the British Christians were numerous; and in the council of Arles,
A.D. 314, we find the names of three British bishops—Eborius of
York, Restitutus of London, and Adelfius, whose see is generally identified with Lincoln.
The social position of those who embraced the gospel
in the earliest times afforded a theme for the ridicule of Celsus; and Gibbon,
with evident delight, repeats the taunt that the new sect was almost entirely
composed of the dregs of the populace—of peasants and mechanics, of boys and
women, of beggars and slaves.
If, as the same writer states, “this very odious
imputation seems to be less strenuously denied by the apologists, than it is
urged by the adversaries, of the faith”, the cause may probably be found in
their sense of its irrelevancy to any question as to the truth of the gospel,
and in the feeling which forbade them to imitate, even towards the meanest or
the most sinful among those for whom the Saviour had
died, the contempt with which the philosophers of heathenism were wont to look
down on those whom they regarded as inferior to themselves. But, as the
historian goes on to admit, the reproach of meanness and vulgarity was far from
being universally applicable to the converts. Among those whom we read of even
in the New Testament were many persons of wealth and station, including some
members of the imperial household. There can be little doubt that Christianity
was the "foreign superstition" of which, according to
Tacitus, Pomponia Graecina, wife of Aulus Plautius, the conqueror of Britain, became a votary in the
reign of Nero, or that the profession of it was the dimly-indicated offence
which under Domitian brought persecution on his own near relations,
Flavia Domitilla and her husband, the consul Flavius Clemens. It was
not a mere rhetorical flight when Tertullian, in the end of the second century,
told the heathens that his brethren were to be found filling the camp, the
assemblies, the palace, and the senate. The same writer distinctly states that
Septimius Severus, in the earlier part of his reign, allowed men and
women of very high rank to profess the gospel; and in like manner we are
told by Origen, a little after Tertullian's time, that among the converts were
men of dignified position, with noble and delicate ladies. We have seen that,
at a later date, Diocletian's empress and daughter were believed to be of the
number; and in the edicts both of that prince and of his predecessor Valerian,
it is assumed that in many cases the penalties for professing Christianity
would be incurred by persons of wealth and station.
That the “poor of this world” were often found “rich
in faith, and heirs of the kingdom of God”—that the preaching of Christ,
addressed as it was to all, found more acceptance among the simple than among
the wise men of the world—that the gospel was sometimes introduced into
families by the agency of slaves—that female influence was effective in
spreading it—such statements we need not care to controvert. But we have seen
also how by degrees the faith won its converts and its advocates among men of
the highest ability and cultivation; and how the Christian schools came to be
frequented even by many of the heathen, on account of the advantages which they
offered for a liberal and philosophical education. The very rebukes addressed
by Clement, in his 'Pedagogue', to the Christians of Alexandria, prove that he
had to deal with a wealthy and luxurious community.1 And, on the whole, there
is reason to believe that, while the gospel had its proselytes in every rank
below the throne, “its main strength lay in the middle, perhaps the mercantile,
classes”.
The proportion which the Christians bore to the
heathen population of the empire has been very variously estimated. We are not
concerned on religious grounds to question Gibbon’s calculation, that, until
their religion was sanctioned by the authority of Constantine, they did not
amount to “more than a twentieth part” of the whole; indeed, if all the
hindrances to the progress of the gospel be fairly considered, even such a
proportion would deserve to be regarded as a token rather of great than of
little success but there can be little doubt that the estimate is by far too
low. By other writers the Christians have been reckoned as a tenth or a fifth
of the whole body of Roman subjects; in some districts, as in the dominions of
Maximin, they were perhaps even the majority.
The Hierarchy.
In the course of the second and third centuries the
hierarchy of the church underwent some changes. The only order which existed in
the apostolic age, in addition to those of bishops, priests, and deacons, was
that of deaconesses—women (and at first usually-widows) who were employed in
such ministrations to persons of their own sex as were either naturally
unsuitable for males, or were so regarded by the customs of the ancient
world—especially in the east. Thus, they assisted at the baptism of female
converts; they visited the women of the community at their homes; and, by
obtaining access to their apartments, from which the clergy were excluded, they
had the means of doing much for the advancement of the faith among the middle
and higher classes.
But in the end of the second century, or early in the
third, several new offices, below the order of deacons, were introduced. These
originated in the greater churches, where—partly from a supposed expediency of
limiting the number of deacons to that of the apostolical church at Jerusalem,
and partly from the importance which the deacons acquired in such communities,
as being intrusted with the administration of the
public funds—a need was felt of assistance in performing the lower functions of
the diaconate, which it is too probable that the deacons had in many cases
begun to regard as unworthy of them. The first mention of any inferior office
is in Tertullian, who speaks of readers. The fuller organization of the lesser
orders comes before us in the epistles of St. Cyprian, and in one of his
contemporary Cornelius, bishop of Rome, who states that the Roman church then
numbered forty-six presbyters, seven deacons, seven subdeacons, forty-two acolyths, and fifty-two exorcists, readers, and
door-keepers. The business of the subdeacons was to take care of the sacred
vessels and to assist the deacons in their secular duties; the acolyths lighted the lamps and attended at the
celebration of the sacraments; the exorcists had the charge of the energumens
(or persons who were supposed to be possessed by evil spirits); the readers
were employed to read the Scriptures in the services of the church.
These offices were not universally adopted. As to that
of exorcist, the Apostolical Constitutions (which represent the eastern system
as it was about the end of the third century) declare that it is not to be
conferred by ordination, as being a special gift of divine grace, and a
voluntary exercise of benevolence.
While the ministry of the church was thus receiving an
addition of inferior offices, the authority of its highest members, the
bishops, became more defined, and distinctions were introduced into their
order. The circumstances of the times required that power should be
centralized, as an expedient conducive to strength and safety; moreover, as
their flocks increased in numbers and in wealth, and as the clergy subject to
them were multiplied, the position of the bishops naturally acquired a greater
appearance of outward dignity. There seems, however, to be much exaggeration in
the statements of some writers, both as to the smallness of the authority which
they suppose the episcopate to have originally possessed, and as to the height
which it had attained in the course of these centuries. Even to the end of
the period we meet with nothing like autocratic power in the bishops. They were
themselves elected by the clergy and people; they consulted with the presbyters
in the more private matters, and with the body of the faithful in such as concerned
the whole community; even the selection of persons to be ordained for the
ministry of the church was referred to the consent of its members generally.
From time to time circumstances rendered it desirable
that the pastors of neighbouring churches should meet
in consultation, agreeably to apostolic precedent. In addition to such
occasional synods, the custom of holding regular meetings twice, or at least
once, a year was introduced in the latter part of the second century. The
origin of these stated synods appears to have been in Greece, where they were
recommended by the analogy of the ancient deliberative assemblies, such as that
of the Amphictyons, which still existed and by
degrees they were introduced into other countries. The chief city of each district
was regarded as the metropolis, or mother city. There the synods met; the
bishop of the place naturally took a lead as president, and he became the
representative of his brethren in their communications with other churches.
Thus the metropolitans acquired a pre-eminence among the bishops : and,
although every bishop was still regarded as of equal dignity,—although each was
considered to be independent in his own diocese (unless, indeed, suspicions of
his orthodoxy invited his brethren to interfere for the vindication of the
faith, and for the protection of his flock),—although each, within his own
sphere, retained the direction of the ritual and of indifferent matters in
general,—the individual dioceses became practically subject to the decisions of
the larger circles in which they were included.
A still higher authority than that of ordinary
metropolitans was attached to the bishops of the great seats of government, as
Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch. The title of patriarch, by which these came to be
distinguished, was not, however, restricted to them in the period which we are
now surveying.
The authority of the churches which could trace their
origin to apostolic founders was highly regarded. Irenaeus and Tertullian, in
arguing with heretics who refused to abide by the words of Scripture under pretence of its having been corrupted, refer them to
the tradition of the apostolic churches and to the uninterrupted succession of
their bishops, as evidence of the apostolic doctrine. In so doing, Tertullian
places all such churches on the same level—classing Philippi, Corinth,
Thessalonica, and Ephesus with Rome. But the great church of the imperial city
had especial advantages, which could not fail to exalt it in a manner
altogether peculiar. It was the only apostolic church of the west, and the
channel through which most of the western nations had received the gospel; it
was believed to have been founded by the labours and
adorned by the martyrdom of St. Peter and St. Paul; it was strong in the number
of its members, and in the wealth which enabled it not only to maintain a
higher degree of state than other churches, but to send large charities to the
less opulent brethren in every quarter; it was linked with all other
communities by continual intercourse; while it was preserved by national
character from those speculative errors which so greatly disquieted the
churches of the east. Hence the Roman church necessarily became
pre-eminent above every other. But while this eminence was willingly
acknowledged in ordinary circumstances, the pretensions of Rome were firmly
resisted whenever such bishops as Victor or Stephen attempted to interfere with
the independent rights of their brethren in the episcopate. The history of
these centuries clearly shows that the bishops of Rome did not as yet possess
any jurisdiction over other churches, or any other authority than the
precedence and the influence which naturally resulted from their position.
From the cities, in which it was first planted,
Christianity gradually penetrated into the country. When a church was formed in
a village or a small town, it was administered by a presbyter, subject to the
bishop of the neighbouring city, and in some cases by
a chorepiscopus (or country bishop). Although this title does not occur before
the fourth century, the office which it designates was of much earlier origin.
The chorepiscopi were subordinate to the bishops of cities, and acted
for them in confirming the baptized, in granting letters of communion, in
ordaining the clergy of the minor orders, and sometimes, by special permission,
the priests and deacons. It is a question to what order of the ministry they
belonged. Some writers suppose that they were all bishops; others (among whom
are Romanists of high name as well as presbyterians)
consider them to have been presbyters; while, according to a third opinion,
some were of one class and some of the other. If we regard the object of their
appointment, this last view may seem the most probable. As the chorepiscopi
were substitutes of the city bishops, and empowered to discharge some part of
their functions, it may in some cases have been sufficient to appoint a
presbyter, with authority to perform certain acts which by such delegation
might rightly be intrusted to presbyters, although
not included in the ordinary presbyterial commission; while in other cases it
may have been expedient that the chorepiscopus should be a bishop, although, as
being the deputy of another bishop, he was limited in the exercise of his
powers.
The right of the Christian clergy to “live of the
gospel” was asserted and acknowledged from the first. As the church became more
completely organized, they were withdrawn from secular business, and were
restricted to the duties of their ministry; in the African church of St.
Cyprian's time a clergyman was forbidden even to undertake the office of
executor or guardian. Their maintenance was derived from the oblations of the
faithful; in some places they received a certain proportion of the whole fund
collected for the uses of the church; in other places, as at Carthage,
provision was made for them by special monthly collections. The amount of
income thus obtained was naturally very various in different churches; it would
seem that the practice of trading, which is sometimes spoken of as a discredit
to the clergy, and forbidden by canons, may in many cases have originated, not
in covetousness, but in a real need of some further means of subsistence in
addition to those provided by the church.
Rites and Usages.
During the earliest years of the gospel—while the
congregations of believers were scanty and poor, and their assemblies were held
in continual fear of disturbance on the part of the heathens—although it seems
probable that they may have set certain rooms apart for the performance of
their worship, it is not to be supposed that any entire buildings can have been
devoted exclusively to religious uses. We find, however, that in Tertullian's
time churches were already built: the notices of them become more frequent in
the course of the third century ; and, as has been stated in a former chapter,
a new splendour of structure and ornament was
introduced during the long interval of peace which followed after the
persecution under Valerian.
In these churches a portion was separated from the
rest by railings, which were intended to exclude the laity. Within this
enclosure were the holy table or altar, which was usually made of wood, the
pulpit or reading-desk, and the seats of the clergy.
In the apostolical times, baptism was administered
immediately on the acknowledgment of Christ by the receiver; but when the
church became more firmly settled, converts were required to pass through a
course of moral training, combined with instruction in the faith, before
admission to its communion by this sacrament. Their entry on this training
(during which the title of Christians was already given to them, as well as
that of catechumens) was marked by a solemn reception, with prayer, the sign of
the cross, and imposition of hands. The length of the preparatory period was
not uniform the council of Illiberis (Elvira,
near Granada) appoints two years, while the Apostolical Constitutions prescribe
three, although with a permission that the term may be shortened in special
cases. If the catechumen were in danger of death during his probation, he was
baptized without further delay.
With the system of preparatory training was introduced
the practice of confining the ordinary administration of baptism to particular
seasons. Easter and Whitsuntide were considered as especially suitable, on
account of the connection between the sacrament and the great events which
those seasons respectively commemorated; and it was on the vigil of each
festival that the chief performance of the baptismal rites took place. Yet
baptism might still be given at other times: “Every day is the Lord’s”, says
Tertullian, after stating the reasons for preferring Easter and Pentecost;
“every hour, every time, is fitting for baptism; if there be a difference as to
solemnity, there is none as to grace”.
Agreeably to apostolical practice, a profession of
faith was exacted at baptism. Hence arose the use of creeds, embodying the
essential points of belief, which were imparted to the catechumens in the last
stage of their preparation. The name given to these forms—symbola—seems
either to have meant simply that they were tokens of Christian brotherhood, or
to have been borrowed from the analogy of military service, in which the
watchwords or passwords were so called. Renunciation of the devil and other
spiritual enemies was also required; and it was probably in the second century
that the rite of exorcising was introduced into the baptismal office—a rite
which was founded on the view that men were under the dominion of the evil one
until set free by the reception of Christian grace. About the same time
probably were added various symbolical ceremonies:— the sign of the cross on
the forehead; the kiss of peace, in token of admission into spiritual fellowship;
white robes, figurative of the cleansing from sin; and the tasting of milk and
honey, which were intended to typify the blessings of the heavenly Canaan.
Baptism was administered by immersion, except in cases
of sickness, where effusion or sprinkling was used. St. Cyprian strongly
asserts the sufficiency of this “clinical” baptism but a stigma was justly
attached to persons who put off their baptism until the supposed approach of
death should enable them (as it was thought) to secure the benefits of the
sacrament without incurring its obligation to newness of life. In
opposition to this error, Tertullian, Origen, and Cyprian earnestly insist on
the principle that right dispositions of mind are necessary in order to partake
of the baptismal gifts, and warn against trusting to the virtue of an ordinance
received in circumstances where it was hardly possible to conceive that such
dispositions could exist.
That the baptism of infants was of apostolical origin,
there are abundant grounds of presumption. Thus, out Lord Himself, by receiving
and blessing little children, showed that they are capable of spiritual
benefits. His charge to “make disciples of all nations, baptizing them” was
given to persons who had been accustomed to the admission of infants into a
spiritual covenant by the right of circumcision, and even to the baptism of the
children of proselytes. St. Paul seems to assume that all who were capable of
becoming members of the Jewish church were equally admissible to the Christian
church; and we hear nothing of any dissensions on this point, whereas the
exclusion of their infants would surely have been a grievance sufficient to
provoke in the highest degree the characteristic jealousy of Jewish converts.
We read of whole households as having been baptized at once, without a hint
that any members of them were excepted on account of tender age. And in St.
Paul’s charges as to the training of children, they seem to be regarded as
already members of the church for otherwise we might certainly have expected to
meet with directions for their instruction and discipline in preparation for
baptism. The first distinct mention of infant-baptism is by St. Irenaeus; but
the whole bearing of early writings is in accordance with the judgment of
Origen, who referred the practice to apostolical tradition. Tertullian, in
terms hardly consistent with a belief in original sin (which, however, he
elsewhere strongly declares), argues against hastening to administer baptism to
“the age of innocence”; but his objection proves that this was the established
usage, and he himself allows that infants may be baptized when in danger of
death.
Tertullian is also a witness for the use of sponsors
at baptism.
Confirmation, by imposition of hands and anointing
with chrism, was originally given immediately after baptism; but in the second
century the administration of it was ordinarily reserved to bishops, although
in the east it was still sometimes performed by presbyters. When baptism was
administered by a bishop or in his presence, as in cities at the great
festivals, the supplementary rites were immediately added; in other cases, they
were deferred until there should be an opportunity of receiving them at the
hands of the bishop. Confirmation was bestowed on infants as well as on other
baptized persons; and in some churches a practice of administering the
Eucharist to infants and young children—founded on a belief that our Lord's
words in St. John imposed a universal necessity of that sacrament in order to
salvation —was established by the middle of the third century.
The elements of Christian worship appear, by the
notices which occur in the New Testament, to have been the same from the
earliest days, although varieties of detail and arrangement obtained in
different churches. The ordinary service of the day which is called Sunday, in
the second century, is described by Justin Martyr. It began with passages from
the Scriptures, read in a language which the hearers in general could
understand; or, where no version as yet existed in a tongue intelligible to the
common people, the selected passages were first read in Greek or Latin, and
were then rendered into the local dialect by an interpreter. After this
followed a discourse by the presiding ecclesiastic, which was usually directed
to the application of the lessons which had been read. These addresses were at
first simple and familiar in style, and hence received the name of
homilies (i.e. conversations); but by degrees they rose into greater
importance as a part of the service, and acquired something of a rhetorical
character, which had originally been avoided for the sake of distinction from
the harangues of secular orators and philosophers. Psalmody formed a large
portion of the early Christian worship. It consisted partly of the Old
Testament psalms, and partly of hymns composed on Christian themes; and both in
the church and among heretical sects it was found a very effective means of
impressing doctrine on the minds of the less educated members.
In the apostolic age the administration of the
Eucharist took place in the evening, after the pattern of its original
institution. The service included a thanksgiving by the bishop or presbyter for
God's bounty in supplying the fruits of the earth; and in acknowledgment of
these gifts the congregation presented offerings of bread and wine, from which
the elements for consecration were taken. At the same time money was
contributed for the relief of the poor, the maintenance of the clergy, and
other ecclesiastical purposes. The bread used in the administration was of the
common sort, leavened; the wine was mixed with water,—at first, merely in
compliance with the ordinary custom of the east, although mystical reasons for
the mixture were devised at least as early as the time of Clement of
Alexandria, and an opinion of its necessity afterwards grew up. Before the
consecration, the names of those who had offered, and of such saints or
deceased members of the church as were to be specially commemorated, were read
from the diptychs; and, although the practice of reciting such lists was
afterwards abandoned on account of the inconvenient length to which they had
grown, it became usual to insert in the diptychs the names of the sovereign, of
the patriarchs, and of the neighbouring bishops, as a
sign of Christian fellowship.
The Eucharist was at first preceded, but at a later
date was more usually followed, by the agape or love-feast. The
materials of this were contributed by the members of the congregation,
according to the means of each; all, of whatever station, sat down to it
as equals, in token of their spiritual brotherhood; and the meal was concluded
with psalmody and prayer. It was, however, too soon found (as even the
apostolic writings bear witness) that the ideal of this feast was liable to be
grievously marred in practice. There was danger of excess and selfishness in
partaking of it; for the richer Christians there was a temptation either to
“shame” their poorer brethren, or, by a more subtle form of evil, to value
themselves on their bounty and condescension towards them. It was found also
that the secret celebration of such meals tended to excite the suspicions of
the heathen; that it gave rise and countenance to the popular reports
of Thyestean banquets and other abominations. For such reasons the
agape was first disjoined from the Lord's Supper, and then was abandoned. In
the fourth century canons were directed against celebrations bearing this name,
but which were altogether different from those to which it had been attached in
earlier times.
After a time, and probably with a view of disarming
the jealousies of the heathen, the administration of the Eucharist was
transferred from the evening to the morning, when it was added to the service
which had before been usual. Hence arose a distinction between the parts of the
combined service. The earlier—the mass of the catechumens—was open to
energumens (or possessed persons), to catechumens, penitents, and in the fourth
century even to heretics, Jews, and heathens; while to the celebration of the
holy mysteries—the mass of the faithful—none were admitted but such as were
baptized and in full communion with the church. This division of the service
must have been fully established before Tertullian's time, since he censures
the Marcionites for their neglect of it.
In the very earliest times of the church, the
sacramental breaking of bread was daily; but the fervour of devotion in which such an observance was possible soon passed away, and the
celebration was usually confined to the Lord's day. In Africa an idea of the
necessity of daily communion (which was supposed to be indicated in the
petition for “our daily bread”) led to a custom of carrying home portions of
the consecrated bread, and eating a morsel of it every morning, before going
forth to the business of the day. Thus the individual Christian was supposed to
witness and maintain his union with his brethren elsewhere; and in this private
use of one of the sacramental elements without the other appears to have
originated one of the most inexcusable corruptions of the later Latin church.
The Eucharist being regarded as the chief sign and bond of Christian communion,
it was considered that all the members of the church were bound to partake of
it, except such as were debarred by ecclesiastical censures. All, therefore,
who were present at the celebration of the sacrament communicated; and portions
of the consecrated elements were reserved for the sick and for prisoners,
to whom they were conveyed by the deacons after the public rites were ended.
THE LORD'S DAY
While the idea of the Christian life regards all our
time as holy to the Lord, it was yet felt to be necessary that human weakness
should be guided and trained by the appointment of certain days as more
especially to be sanctified by religious solemnities. Hence, even from the very
beginning of the church, we find traces of a particular reverence attached
to the first day of the week. The special consecration of one day in seven was
recommended by the analogy of the ancient sabbath; the first of the seven was
that which the apostles selected, as commemorative of their Master’s rising
from the grave, with which a reference to the creation was combined. On this
day the believers of the apostolic age met together; they celebrated it with
prayer, psalmody, preaching, administration of the Lord’s Supper, and
collections for the needs of the church; and according to their example the day
was everywhere observed throughout the early centuries as one of holy joy1 and
thanksgiving. All fasting on it was forbidden; the congregation stood at
prayers, instead of kneeling as on other days. The first evidence of a
cessation from worldly business on the Lord's day is found in Tertullian, who,
however, is careful (as are the early Christian writers in general) to distinguish
between the Lord's day and the Mosaic sabbath.
In memory of our Lord's betrayal and crucifixion, the
fourth and sixth days of each week were kept as fasts by abstinence from food
until the hour at which he gave up the ghost—the ninth hour, or 3 p.m. In the
manner of observing the seventh day, the eastern church differed from the
western. The orientals, influenced by the neighbourhood of the Jews and by the ideas of Jewish
converts, regarded it as a continuation of the Mosaic sabbath, and celebrated it
almost in the same manner as the Lord's day; while their brethren of the west
extended to it the fast of the preceding day.
Agreeably to the analogy of the elder church, the
first Christians assigned certain seasons to an annual remembrance of the great
events in the history of redemption. Of these seasons the chief was the Pascha,
which included the celebration both of the crucifixion and of the resurrection.
The festival of the resurrection was preceded by a solemn fast, as to the
length of which the practice varied. Irenaeus states that some were in the
habit of keeping one day, some two days, some more, and some forty; but whether
the forty ought to be understood as signifying days or hours is disputed. In
any case, the observance of the fast was as yet voluntary, except on the day of
the crucifixion.
The whole pentecostal season—from
Easter to Whitsuntide—was regarded as festival; as on Sundays, the people
prayed standing, and all fasting was forbidden. Whitsun-day itself was observed
with especial solemnity ; and in the course of the third century Ascension-day
began to be also distinguished above the rest of the season.
It would seem that at Rome the Saviour’s birth was celebrated on the 25th of December that the eastern church (like
the Basilidians) kept the 6th of January in
memory of the Epiphany—by which name was understood his manifestation as the
Messiah at his baptism; and that when, in course of time, the commemoration of
the nativity made its way into some parts of the east, it was also observed on
the same day—the words of St. Luke being supposed to intimate that the baptism
took place on the anniversary of the birth. The adoption of the Epiphany in the
west (where a reference to other events in the gospel history was joined with,
and at length supplanted, the subject of the old oriental festival), and the
separate celebration of Christmas-day in the east, belong to the fourth
century.
The memory of martyrs was very early honoured by religious commemorations, as appears from the
letter written in the name of the church of Smyrna on the death of St.
Polycarp. On the anniversary of a martyr's suffering (which was styled
his natalitia or birthday, as being
the day of his entrance on a better life) there was a meeting at the place of
his burial—often a subterranean catacomb or crypt; the acts of his passion were
read, and the brethren were exhorted to imitate his virtues; prayer was made;
the eucharist was celebrated, with an especial offering of thanks for the
martyr; and sometimes the agape followed. But, although a belief early crept in
that the intercession of martyrs had somewhat of a like power for opening the
kingdom of heaven to that which was allowed them in restoring penitents to the
communion of the earthly church,—while it was supposed to obtain both
forgiveness and grace for the brethren who were yet in the flesh—although
Origen even ascribes to the deaths of martyrs an atoning effect akin to that of
the Redeemer’s sacrifice—their interest was bespoken only by entreaties before
their suffering; they, like the rest of the faithful departed, were supposed to
have not as yet entered on the perfect blessedness of heaven; nor is there in
the writings or in the sepulchral monuments of the early Christians any
evidence of prayer either to the martyrs or through them after death.
It does not appear that festivals were as yet
assigned to the apostles, except in those churches with which they had
been more especially connected.
A service in remembrance of departed relatives was
usual on the anniversaries of their deaths. The surviving kindred met at the
grave; the Eucharist was celebrated; an oblation for the deceased was laid on
the altar with those of the living; and his name was mentioned in prayer, with
a commendation to eternal peace.
PENANCE.
The commission of grievous error in life or doctrine
was punished by exclusion from the communion of the church; and, in order to
obtain re-admission, offenders were obliged to submit to a prescribed course of
penance. The regulations as to the length and manner of this penance varied in
different times, and in the several branches of the church ;n the
administration of it was chiefly in the hands of the bishops, who were at
liberty to exercise their discretion in each case, on a consideration not only
of the penitent’s demeanour under the discipline, but
of his entire history and character. Reconciliation after the heaviest sins,
such as murder, adultery, and idolatry, was allowed only once to the baptized.
In some cases, the whole life was to be a period of penance; in some,
reconciliation was not granted even in the hour of death, although the refusal
was not meant to imply that the sinner was shut out from the Divine
forgiveness. The church's office was not supposed in these ages to extend
beyond prescribing the means which might best dispose the sinner’s mind for
seeking the mercy of God; Cyprian, Firmilian, and other teachers are
careful to guard against the danger of imagining that ecclesiastical
absolution could forestall the sentence of the last day. The dissensions which
took place at Rome and at Carthage in consequence of the persecution under
Decius afford abundant evidence of the popular tendency to error in connection
with this subject. The difficulties then felt in treating the cases of the lapsed
led to the establishment in some churches of penitentiary priests, whose
business it was to hear privately the confessions of offenders, and to direct
them in the conduct of their repentance. And towards the end of the third
century, the system was further organized by a division of the penitents into
four classes, each of which marked a particular stage in the course, and had a
special place assigned to the members in the time of divine service.
The churches of the early Christians had no images or
pictures; for the connection of art with heathen religion and with the moral
impurities of heathenism was regarded as a reason against the employment of it
in sacred things. It was through the usages of common life that art gradually
found its way into the church. Instead of the figures or emblems of gods with
which the heathen adorned their houses, their furniture, their cups, and their
signets, the Christians substituted figurative representations, such as a
shepherd carrying a lamb on his shoulders, emblematic of Christ the good
Shepherd a dove, the symbol of the Holy Ghost; a ship, significant of the
church, the ark of salvation, sailing towards heaven; a fish, which, by its
connection with water, conveyed an allusion to baptism, while the letters which
formed its Greek name might be interpreted as designating the Saviour; a lyre or an anchor, the types of Christian joy
and hope. And in this system were introduced even such heathen emblems as could
be interpreted in a Christian sense by the initiated—for example, the vine of
Bacchus and the phoenix. In like manner the Saviour was represented as Orpheus, as Apollo, or (in his character of the good
Shepherd) as Mercury; and Theseus slaying the Minotaur typified the victory of
David over Goliath. But as yet hardly any other than symbolical figures were
used. Even in the catacombs of Rome, which were withdrawn from the sight of the
heathen, symbol prevails over the attempt at literal representation, and the
ideas of the New Testament are commonly figured under the likeness of the Old,
as where the story of Jonah is made to serve for a type of the resurrection,
and Moses striking the rock symbolizes the waters of baptism. Even from the
gospel history types are chosen in preference to attempting a more direct representation.
Thus the feast on the miraculously multiplied loaves and fishes signifies the
Eucharist, and perhaps the early pictures of the raising of Lazarus, in which
he appears as a child, are rightly interpreted as meaning the spiritual rising
from the death of sin in baptism. Neither art nor tradition professed to convey
an idea of the Saviour’s human form, while, on the
supposed authority of some prophetical texts, it was generally believed to have
been mean beyond that of mankind in general; the earliest imaginary
representations of him are met with, not among orthodox Christians, but among
the Carpocratian heretics and in the eclectic heathenism of Alexander Severus.
Towards the end of the period, however, we find among the canons of the council
of Illiberis one which forbids pictures in
churches, “lest”, it is said, “that which is worshipped and adored be painted
on the walls”. Such an enactment is evidence at once of a recent and growing
practice, and of the light in which it was regarded by the simple and austere
mind of the Spanish church.
The figure of the cross (with which, as Tertullian
witnesses, it was the custom of the early Christians to sign their foreheads
very frequently in the occasions of their daily life) was early introduced into
churches. It had not, however, during this period assumed its place over the
altar, nor was any devotion paid to it.
Moral Character of Christians—Asceticism—
Celibacy
As the Christians of the early centuries embraced the
gospel at the risk of much worldly sacrifice and suffering, we naturally expect
to find that their lives were generally marked by a serious endeavour to realize their holy calling. And thus on the whole it was, although the
condition of the church from the very beginning bore witness to the truth of
those prophetic parables which had represented it as containing a mixture of
evil members with the good. The apologists, while they acknowledge many defects
among their brethren, are yet always able to point to the contrast between the
lives of Christians and the utter degradation of heathen morals as an evidence
of the power of the gospel. No stronger proof of this contrast need be sought
than the fact that the philosophers who undertook to reinvigorate the
heathen system with a view of meeting the aggressions of the new religion,
found a moral reformation no less necessary than a reform of the current
doctrines of heathenism.
The mutual love of Christians—a love which in its
disinterested sympathy for all men was something wholly new to the heathen—was
that which most impressed those who viewed the church from without. Their care
of the poor, the aged, the widows, and the orphans of the community, their
reverential ministrations to the brethren who were imprisoned for the
faith—their kindness to slaves, whom the maxims of the ancient world had
regarded as mere animated tools, whereas the gospel, while it did not interfere
with the difference of social position, yet raised the slave to the footing of
spiritual brotherhood with his master, and reminded the master that he too was
the redeemed servant of Christ— the liberal gifts sent from one country to
another for the relief of distress—the contributions raised in order to the
deliverance of captives, the system of letters of communion, which not only
procured for Christians admission to spiritual privileges in every church which
they might visit, but entitled them to the charity and good offices of its
members—such were some of the tokens in which the spirit of love was
conspicuously show; and while the sight of these things had its due effect on
many, as a witness for the faith which could produce such fruits, it probably
became one means of attracting unworthy converts from the needy classes,
through the hope of sharing in the bounty of the richer brethren.
The force of Christian principle shone forth with
especial lustre in seasons of general calamity. The
charitable labours of Cyprian and his flock on
occasion of the plague in the reign of Gallus have been already mentioned. A
like course was taken at the same time by Dionysius and the church of
Alexandria; and, as we have lately seen, the Christian spirit was again nobly
manifested by the Alexandrians during the famine and pestilence under Maximin.
It was felt that in their ordinary life Christians
ought to be marked as distinct from heathens. Certain occupations were
altogether forbidden—as those of diviners, actors, gladiators, charioteers, and
makers of images. A convert who had followed any such calling was required to
forsake it before admission to baptism; and, until he could find some other
means of supporting himself, he was maintained from the funds of the church.
St. Cyprian strongly condemns a Christian, who, having been formerly a player, endeavoured to earn a livelihood by giving lessons in his
old profession. Attendance at theatres was forbidden, not only on account of
the original connection between the drama and heathen religion, or of the
frequent offences against decency and morality which occurred in the
performances of the stage, but also because the waste of time on such frivolous
amusements was considered to be inconsistent with the spiritual life. Stories
are told of judgments on persons who had ventured to disregard the rule; thus
Tertullian relates that a woman who went to a theatre returned home possessed
of a devil, and that the evil spirit, on being reproached by the exorcist for
assaulting one of the faithful, answered that he had a right to do so, inasmuch
as he had found her on his own ground. The games of the circus, the
gladiatorial shows, and the combats of wild beasts, were interdicted in like
manner. Some Christians, as we learn from Tertullian, attempted to argue that
such prohibitions were not warranted by Scripture; but the great African
vehemently denounces the interested casuistry which sought to relax the
severity of the church’s laws.
The sense of the obligation to be unlike the heathen,
while it acted as a safeguard to the virtue of many Christians, was yet not
without danger in other respects. It sometimes became a temptation to a narrow,
self-satisfied, and contemptuous spirit; it incited to a needless and offensive
display of differences; it tended to an overvaluation of mere outward
distinctions and acts, in respect both of their necessity and of their
importance. Hence arose the extreme reverence for confessorship and
martyrdom, without sufficient regard to the character and motives of the
sufferers. Hence too came the system of professing an extraordinary austerity,
and a renunciation of things which were allowed to be lawful for the mass of
believers. Such renunciation had been practised both
among Jews and among heathens; and as early, at least, as the beginning of the
second century, there were some Christian ascetics who bound themselves to an especial
strictness of living, but without any perpetual or irrevocable vows. That the
church, however, was not at that time disposed to attach an undue value to such
exercises, may be inferred from the statement, that when one of the Lyonese martyrs, Alcibiades, attempted to continue in
prison his custom of living on bread and water only, his fellow prisoner
Attalus was charged in a vision to warn him against refusing God’s
creatures and risking offence to his brethren; and that thereupon Alcibiades conformed
to the usual diet. The ascetic life was more fully reduced to system when the
influence of Platonism grew on the church—bringing ;with it the idea, common in
oriental religions, of attaining to a likeness of the Divine repose by a lofty
abstraction from mundane things. While ordinary believers were allowed to
follow the usual business of the world, the higher spirits were to devote
themselves to prayer and meditation; and in the countries where this division
was first recognized, the influence of climate powerfully conduced to a
preference of the contemplative over the active life.
In the course of the second century societies had been
formed for the purpose of living together under a religious rule. Some,
considering even such society to be too distracting, shut themselves up in
utter seclusion; and in the third century these eremites, or hermits,
retired further from the haunts of men, to bury themselves in the wildest and
most inaccessible solitudes. Paul of Alexandria has been mentioned as having
withdrawn into the wilderness from the Decian persecution. Antony, the most
celebrated of the hermits, although his earlier history falls within this
period, may more fitly be noticed hereafter.
The state of celibacy was, from the first, regarded as
higher than that of matrimony; nor is it easy to distinguish in how far the
commendations of single life were founded on its advantages in times of
distress, or on its exemption from the dangers of heathen connection, and in
how far they implied a belief in an essential superiority.
When, however, this superiority was exaggerated by
sectaries, so as to disparage the holiness of marriage, the members of the
church earnestly combated such opinions. It was found, too, that a profession
of celibacy was not always enough to give security against the temptations of
this world. Thus Tertullian, in his Montanistic days,
threw out serious imputations against the character and motives of some who had
been enrolled among the virgins of the African church; and Cyprian found himself
obliged to write against the vanities of dress and demeanour in which the virgins of the same church in his time indulged. Moreover, when
the lawful intercourse of the sexes was forbidden or renounced, grievous
scandals sometimes arose in its place.
The single life came by degrees to be considered
especially suitable for the clergy; but no constraint was as yet put on them,
although a progress of restriction may be observed during the period. Thus,
whereas it appears, from Tertullian's invectives, that even second marriages
were frequently contracted by the clergy of his day, we find the council
of Illiberis, a century later, enacting that
bishops, priests, deacons, and even the inferior clergy, should live with their
wives as if unmarried.
The severity of this rule was, however, beyond the
general notions of the age. Other canons, about the same date, forbid the
marriage of the higher clergy, but do not interfere with the conjugal relations
of such as had been married before their ordination to the diaconate.
The recognition of a distinction between a higher and
a lower Christian life was dangerous, not only because it tended to encourage
the mass of men in laxity, —so that the teachers of the church had often to
combat excuses for careless living which rested on such grounds, —but also as
laying a temptation to pride and self-sufficiency in the way of those who
embraced the more exalted profession. Yet both in this and in many other
respects, although we may see in the first three centuries the germ of errors
and mischiefs which afterwards became unhappily prevalent, their appearance is
as yet only in the germ. Hence we may, at the same time, detect the evil which
lurks in ideas and practices of those early days, and yet duly reverence the
holy men who originated or advanced such ideas or practices, without any
suspicion of the evil which was in them. An understanding Christian must never
forget that, in the experience of the ages which have since passed, Providence
has supplied him with instruction and warning which were not bestowed on the
primitive church. He must remember that, for the formation of his own opinions,
and for the guidance of his own conduct, he is bound to consider the proved
results of things which at first were introduced as conducive to the further
advancement of piety. While it is his duty to resist every feeling which would
lead him to exalt himself above earlier and more simple times, he must yet,
with a due sense of responsibility for the use of the means of judgment which
have been vouchsafed to him, endeavour to
discriminate, by the lights of Scripture and history, not only between absolute
truth and fully developed falsehood, but between wholesome and dangerous
tendencies, and to ascertain the boundaries at which lawful progress ends and
corruption begins.
BOOK II.FROM CONSTANTINE TO THE DEATH OF THE EMPEROR THEODOSIUS I ,A.D. 313-395.
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