Yarr! – The Weblog of Bob Heffernan

The second objection to the idea of `New Testament Christianity’ (see my last three posts) is the following:

• What about the fact that the NT churches had obvious problems? Are we wise to try to emulate them?

This is a very common objection must be tackled in some detail. At base the objection is this: the early church clearly had many problems — a reading of some of Paul’s letters or of the first few chapters of Revelation makes this abundantly clear. When it comes to ecclesiology, for instance, might it not be the case that post-biblical developments in church organisation (which still have their `roots’ in scripture) have developed precisely to provide safeguards against some of these problems. In this way the emergence of hierarchy, the prominence of the pastor in Protestant circles or the priest and bishop in Catholic circles, the clergy laity distinction, and so on, may well be developments prompted by the Spirit in order to ensure order, to safeguard doctrine, etc.

If we take the word `church’ to denote a particular gathering of people (rather than something more general) the objection may be nuanced a little further — which New Testament church are you trying to emulate? The church in Corinth?, the church in Galatia?, the church in Rome? Each of these had significant problems. Suggesting that there is some perfect 1st century church that we must emulate is to ignore the clear biblical evidence that no such church ever existed.

In response to the latter point it should be made clear that I am not proposing some particular 1st century Christian grouping be emulated slavishly. Nor am I implying that the 1st century church taken as a whole was or is perfect and should, as such, be emulated. Finally, I am not postulating the existence of some theoretical perfect church that can or should be emulated. However, to say this is not to say that there is little or nothing in the praxis of the early Christians that we can emulate. Recall that in my first post my programmatic statement was that `the New Testament documents give a reasonably clear picture of what early church practice was and what the teachings of some of the early apostles (especially Paul) were with regard to these issues.’ So, from the NT we can learn at least something about each of the following:

• what the teachings of Jesus and the apostles were;
• what the self-understanding of the early believers was;
• how they attempted to put this into practice (even when they got it wrong); and
• how they were corrected when they did get it wrong.

From this we can think about

• how we might learn from the experience of the NT church — including how we might learn from the mistakes made and the corrections given; and
• how we might attempt to live in our context in the same sort of way that they did in theirs.

A larger issue of hermeneutics is raised here — how do we use scripture to inform our own practice? Can we read Paul, for instance, and extract a number of timeless abstract principles that can be applied in the present? If so, why are we presented with information about early praxis at all (including problems and mistakes)? If not, how do we apply scripture? I want to deal with this and other issues in a future post but a brief discussion is relevant here. As is often pointed out, the NT is not a systematic theology. The Gospels and Acts present us with various narratives and the other books (the various epistles and Revelation) are rooted in and proceed out of the narrative of the early church (given, at least in part, in Acts). So, to take Scripture seriously we must take it seriously in the form in which it presents itself. If narrative really is important then our task must be to see how the early church acted (and reacted) and what their teachings were and then to try to discern why they acted as they did, discern why they made the mistakes they made, discern why the corrections take the form they do and finally to decide if Christian praxis in the modern context should look substantially the same as, or dramatically different from, Christian praxis in the 1st century.

My contention, and I must attempt to substantiate it in a future post, is that the praxis of the Christian was in the 1st century, and should be in the 21st century, non-hierarchical, egalitarian and communitarian and that the NT documents provide the basis for a workable model to emulate in this regard. If we attempt to live in our context as the earliest Christians did in theirs the same pattern should emerge — that of real community, existing in the power of the Spirit and demonstrating in and to the world the very love of God.

I feel that many of the post-biblical developments in ecclesiology and much of what we take for granted in the way that we exist and act as Christians today (particularly in our gatherings) does more harm than good — stifling the active participation of most individuals (especially women) and replacing the vibrant (if sometimes flawed) community we find in the 1st century with a rigid hierarchical system which, even when populated by well intentioned people, mitigates against the manifestation of that community of the redeemed characterised by love that the earliest Christians sought to embody.

Addendum

Reading back over the last few posts I realise I’ve been presenting the hermeneutic/attitude of `NT Christianity’ as if it were an original idea of my own. This couldn’t be further from the case. The attitudes I’m outlining are certainly not original or particular to myself, although they do characterise the attitude I was brought up with in my local fellowship. Much of the way I think about the Christian life — even when I feel I have arrived at some of it through my own searching, thinking and praying — is due to the values instilled in me by my parents and other members of my fellowship. Some of what I am talking about is central to the house church movement and some of it may be found in parts of the emerging church movement. Like I said in my first post, although you can find Christians of most stripes who would agree with most or all of what I’m saying I still find that I am on a slightly different wavelength to most of the Christians I talk to. This series of posts is largely an attempt to put into words some of my own thoughts and attitudes and to see if any of it holds water.

A recent and interesting, if sometimes annoyingly rhetorical, example of many of the attitudes I’ve been talking about may be found in the recent book Pagan Christianity by Frank Viola and George Barna. This book really is worth a read. In it Viola and Barna trace the history of many common and accepted church practices and show that their origins are mostly in pagan culture rather than Jewish culture or the Bible. The argument they make is not that non-Biblical influences are necessarily wrong — they state this at the beginning of the book although their rhetoric sometimes would make it seem that this is what they’re arguing and it has been caricatured as such in reviews. The substance of their argument, however, is that if a practice has no Biblical warrant it must be examined carefully to see if it is really helpful. They (and I) feel that many of the practices considered (the emergence of a clergy, the order of worship, the proliferation of church buildings, etc.) are often not helpful and, indeed, are often quite harmful.

Other examples of the attitudes I’m outlining can be found within certain segments of the emerging movement/conversation. Many emerging Christians have a suspicion of the post-Constantinian compromise and a desire to rediscover the centrality of a missional community in the Christian life.

The first and most obvious objection to the idea of `New Testament Christianity’ (see my last two posts for a brief discussion of what I mean by this) is the following:

• Isn’t it arrogant to suggest that the church may have, or has, got it so wrong?

This question breaks down into a number of sub-questions that I want to address in turn:

1. Are you claiming that your understanding of the NT and of ecclesiology in the NT is authorative in some way and that others have, for thousands of years, simply not understood what you claim to understand?
2. Is it reasonable to ignore almost 2000 years of church history and suggest that the church was misguided throughout?

1. Am I claiming some sort of special knowledge or some special authority?

First, the straight answer: no, absolutely not.

Second the slightly snarky answer: this is the sort of accusation that those who are heavily invested in the status quo always level against those who challenge the status quo — `what makes you so special that you feel you can challenge what so many have accepted?’. To refute this one need only point out that the status quo as it stands will most likely initially have been established as a challenge against a previously prevailing status quo. So, for instance, Martin Luther and many of the other reformers made so bold as to question many of the prevailing ideas of their day — indeed they reached back behind them to Augustine and to Paul. Much of what might be construed as essential doctrine in Protestant circles today involved a challenge to several hundred years of Church teaching and practice at the time.

Third the full disclosure: I am convinced that the interpretation of Scripture and, indeed, everything else related to attempting to follow Jesus, attempting to obey the Father and attempting to live in communion with the Spirit, occurs within the context of community — in the context of the ecclesia. As such, I must always hold my own interpretations lightly and must seek to refine them in dialogue with other believers. So, I am not claiming special knowledge about the practice or belief of the early Christians nor am I claiming any special authority for my interpretation over and against that of any other Jesus follower. In fact, I think it is probable that the beliefs and practices of the early Christians are well understood (and always have been, more or less) by most theologians and biblical scholars and, often, by many or most non-academic Christians if they have taken the time to study their bibles. Moreover, I do believe that most individual Christians attempt to put into practice what they learn (with varying degrees of success, of course). So, I am not claiming any special knowledge per se. However, I am claiming that for much of its history the church (and individual Christians) have embraced a hermeneutic that postulates an essential difference between the era previous to the closing of the canon and our era (after the closing of the canon). This hermeneutic allows church practice to diverge greatly from the practice and teaching of the early church even when the church is attempting to be faithful to scripture. What I’m calling `NT Christianity’ is the rejection of this hermeneutic, not the claim to special knowledge or special interpretive authority.

2. Is it reasonable to ignore almost 2000 years of church history and suggest that the church was misguided throughout?

First the short answer: it is certainly not reasonable to reject 2000 years of church history. However, criticism of church practice throughout this history does not entail rejection of this history.

Second the slight bit of snark: I might again point to Luther and the reformers as an example of people who suggested that the church had been misguided in fundamental ways for hundreds of years. For most of these reformers this did not entail a rejection of that history.

Second the longer answer: I do not reject history. I am not declaring the last 2000 years or so to have been bunk. To illustrate this, a study of the practice of the early Christian Celts in Ireland — the way in which they managed for hundreds of years to keep the distinctives of their culture while embracing the gospel in a very radical way — has been of great importance to me and to my friends. I will not even bother to give other examples — history provides manifest examples of God revealing himself in the church and working with and through the church over the past 2000 years. This makes it entirely impossible to reject this history. However, to suggest that there may have been fundamental problems is not to suggest that there were not many triumphs. In the same way, to suggest that much or most of contemporary Christianity may have its ecclesiology wrong is not to suggest that God can not, or is not using contemporary Christians. However, it is impossible to deny the serious problems of modern Christianity — for example, one need only read John 17 and listen to Jesus’ prayer for Christian unity and then compare it to the present situation. As such, it cannot be arrogant to attempt to identify a source of these problems or to suggest potential solutions to them.

Addendum

I should point out that one thing I feel the reformers did a very bad job of reforming was ecclesiology. More radical groups like the Anabaptists made more of an effort in this regard. The reformers largely retained many of the received ecclesiological forms and those changes they did introduce were, by and large, still in thrall to the idea of Christendom and the notion of the church as an institution. Subsequent Protestants have, of course, made substantial changes (for example, the rejection of infant baptism by Baptists and others). The notion of Christendom was really only challenged in the early parts of the 20th century as sweeping changes in society made it manifestly irrelevant.

I think a little more clarification is in order before I continue my series on NT Christianity.

Stepping back, for a moment, from the focus on ecclesiology, I think a good way to broadly categorise the (hermeneutical) attitude I’m calling `New Testament Christianity’ is that it is there is no fundamental difference between the sort of life a Christian can (and should) live now and the sort lived in the New Testament era.

So, for instance, I can (potentially) have exactly the same sort of relationship with God that Paul did. I can experience the presence and power of the Spirit in the same way that Stephen did. I can be used by the Spirit to do miracles in the way that Peter was. I can experience the intense Spirit-driven community that some of the early believers did. The list goes on.

I’m not being simplistic here — there are obvious exceptions. For instance, the first disciples met Jesus as a physical person whereas I can’t (this side of the eschaton) and so I can’t quite relate to god in this way. Still, I think the distinction I’m making is clear. I think it’s also clear that what I’m calling NT Christianity cannot be caricatured as a desire to start wearing sandals and togas, speaking koine Greek, or anything of the sort.

There are obvious questions arising here: if the closing of the canon does not constitute a fundamental shift in what it means to be a Christian then what is the significance of the canon or even of the canonical writings themselves for a post-400AD Christian? I will try to address some of these questions in a future post.

In my next post I will begin to tackle the first of the objections mentioned in my first post — the idea that this `NT Christianity’ hermeneutic/attitude is arrogant and revisionist.

p.s. — I am beginning to realise that the appellation of `New Testament Christianity’ is a clumsy one. I should have thought of a better phrase. I use the phrase mainly because this is a phrase we have always used in the fellowship that I am a part of, eg. `we want to be “New Testament Christians” and live like the Christians in the NT did’. This has always been an important part of our identity as a group. So I have always associated this suspicious attitude toward post-Constantinian Christianity coupled with the desire to emulate the earliest believers with the phrase `New Testament Christianity’. Would anybody like to suggest a better appellation?

I have every intention of returning to my series on Love. Yes, really. However, in keeping with my time-honoured tradition of never, ever finishing anything that I start before starting on something different I would like to offer a new series as a hostage to fortune — or perhaps, as is probably more likely, as a hostage to fortuity.

(In other news my cat seems to be unhappy with me and is trying to attack me as I write. Perhaps she’s already fed up with this series or was really looking forward to another post on the topic of love. Actually, I have some evidence to suggest that my cat has joined a secret underground network of Jihadist cats who, I have reason to believe, have issued a catwah threatening permanent distraction if not placated with more cat food. This might also explain why she keeps pulling books in my theology bookcases off their shelves.)

This series will be about what I, in a deliberately contentious move, am choosing to call `New Testament Christianity’ and so I should begin by trying to define what I mean by this term.

It has become clear to me that I often operate with a subtly different hermeneutic than that of many of the Christians I interact with. I would like to emphasise that it really is often only a subtle difference but I would also like to show, in the course of a few posts, that it is no less important for being subtle. This difference manifests itself most often in the realm of ecclesiology and so the bulk of these posts will be focussed in this direction. With this focus in mind I might phrase my own opinion as follows: With regard to church structures, church institutions, the various roles of individuals within the church, the ways in which these individuals relate, etc. the New Testament documents give a reasonably clear picture of what early church practice was and what the teachings of some of the early apostles (especially Paul) were with regard to these issues. Furthermore, the New Testament model is a model to be emulated by Christians today. We can substitute other things for ecclesiology in the above (which is why I am using the phrase NT Christianity) but, as I have said, I will illustrate with regard to ecclesiology.

To expand a little, what do I mean by NT Christianity or NT Ecclesiology? This is a strand of thought — which can be found in various places and in various expressions of contemporary Christianity — that, I feel, is beginning to become more and more common. It is characterised by some of the following:

• The general feeling that the church may have got certain things, especially ecclesiology, very wrong throughout most of its history;
• A suspicion of post-Constantinian institutions;
• The suspicion that biblicism may have replaced revelation and that doctrine may have replaced incarnational living in the life of the Church;
• The suspicion that institution has replaced community in the life of the Church and the feeling that the church should be non-hierarchical in it’s institutions;
• Broadly, the feeling that the church in most of its forms for the past 2000 years has not looked very much like the church we catch glimpses of in the NT and the conviction that this should not be the case.

Now, if you are a Christian of any sort at all I suspect you will find yourself agreeing with some of the above. You may even agree with all of the above. However, I have found that the sort of outlook outlined above is not usually the outlook of the average Christian or if this sort of outlook is professed in theory it very seldom manifests itself as praxis.

To briefly give an example (which I may elaborate upon later) consider the communitarian, almost socialist, church life that we see in Acts 2 and 4. Many a sermon will draw various pious things from these passages but one will seldom find people really advocating for wealthier Christians to begin `selling their property and possessions and distributing the proceeds to everyone, as anyone [has] need’. In fact, these accounts in Acts are often dismissed as the `Jerusalem experiment’ — an interesting product of the enthusiasm of the early believers but not something to be emulated today. This is exactly the sort of thing that the person who is striving to be an `NT Christian’ has trouble with. (As an aside: there are, of course, many obvious examples of people who are in fact selling everything they own, etc., but it is still hard to argue that this is the general practice of the average Christian in the average Church — particularly in the West).

What I would like to do in the next few posts is go through some of the objections that I have heard to this idea of NT Christianity over the last few years. There are some obvious questions that need answering. Some of the objections I want to look at include:

1. Isn’t it arrogant to suggest that the church may have or has got it so wrong?;
2. What about the fact that the NT churches had obvious problems? Are we wise to try to emulate them?;
3. What is the place of the Bible in this framework?

If you have other questions or objections, leave a comment and I’ll try to address these too.

What is love?

We have asserted that God is love in some way that is essential to his nature but the obvious question arises: what does this mean? There are few concepts as notoriously difficult to precisely describe as that of `love’. The situation in English is particularly difficult. For instance, one can use the word love to speak both of a husband’s love of his wife as well as his wife’s love of chocolate — two very different, although related, meanings of the word `love’. Moreover, the English word `love’ encompasses a much wider variety of meanings than these.

In the Greek of the New Testament the situation is slightly different. There were four words in common use that would all come under the rubric of the English word `love’: eros, storge, philia and agape. The first, eros, was primarily used for physical or sexual love and does not appear in the New Testament. The second, storge, connoted family affection and particularly that of children for their parents although it could also be used, for instance, to denote the love of a people for their ruler. This word also does not appear in the New Testament although a related word does appear once.

The most common word for love in the Greek of the period surrounding the writing of the New Testament was philia. This is a complicated word which could be used for the love of a husband and wife or for the love of friendship — the verb philein can even mean `to kiss’. Philia and its related verb, are used several times in the New Testament — sometimes to describe important types of love.

However, the most common word for love in the New Testament and the word used by John when describing God is agape. The noun agape and the verb agapan are not common in pre-Christian classical Greek and when they do occur they do not have a particularly noble connotation. Yet the writers of the New Testament seemed to seize upon agape as a particularly Christian word for a particularly Christian conception of `love’. In fact, it is fair to say that, apart from a few exceptions, agape seems to have been adopted by the New Testament writers as a sort of technical term.

While a careful study of the word agape and its cognates would probably be illuminating, we need not get lost in such detail. If we take as our starting point that agape is being used as a technical term by the New Testament writers then we can turn to the New Testament itself to discern exactly what agape means and, in particular, what John means when he says `God is love’–ho theos agape estin.

In fact, John answers our question directly in the very same letter:

`We have come to know love by this: that Jesus laid down his life for us; …’

and also, famously, in his gospel:

`For this is the way God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son …’

Jesus himself expressed the same idea:

`No one has greater love than this — that one lays down his life for his friends.’

Similar sentiment is found throughout the New Testament — Paul echoes it also:

`…live in love, just as Christ also loved us and gave himself for us, a sacrificial and fragrant offering to God.’

The emphasis here is clear: love is exemplified in Jesus’ sacrifice — in fact we have not really understood love until we have seen Jesus’ sacrifice. Love is self-sacrificial. Love is the laying down of one’s life for another.

Recently I have been thinking of writing a small booklet containing my thoughts on the idea of `Community’ — mainly for the benefit of myself and my friends. I will probably write this very slowly over the next few months as I find the time, but I thought I might post the first draft, as it is written, here on the blog. I will then revise it (heavily, no doubt) and post the final version to the blog also. The following are a few paragraphs I wrote while I couldn’t sleep a few nights ago:

Love & the Imago Dei

`God is love’ (1Jo 4:8 and 1Jo 4:16) — this phrase, while not unprecedented in the Old Testament, provides a startling insight into the revelation of God in Christ. It is God as revealed in Christ that makes this simple yet powerful phrase possible. When we look at Christ we are confronted with this profound realisation — not only does God love, he is love. As Pope Benedict XVI says in his first encyclical letter, Deus Caritas Est:

`These words from the First Letter of John express with remarkable clarity … the Christian image of God and the resulting image of mankind and its destiny.’

Many theologians have been inclined to evade the significance of the statement `God is love’ and various ways have been found to explain it away. Calvin famously does so when he says in his commentary on 1John:

`Here then he [John] does not speak of the essence of God, but only shews what he is found to be by us.

For Calvin the idea that God really is love in some essential way simply did not agree with the fact, as he saw it, that God was capable of not loving those outside of he elect — hence God is found by the elect to be love but may be found by others to be otherwise. So, Calvin prevaricated on the idea that `God is love’ and many have followed his example, asserting that the phrase tells us nothing of God’s essence, or nature.

We must be careful, however, not to elide the force of these few verses. It is not just that God’s actions are loving, or that he appears to Christians to be loving, but God is love. If the Jew of the Old Testament understood God primarily in terms of covenant and covenant faithfulness, the Christian understands God primarily in terms of love — in Christ we see the Jewish understanding of God’s covenant faithfulness subsumed under the new and vibrant revelation of his love.

It is an interesting exercise, I feel, to say the phrase `God is love’ and to think of whether you are have an urge to immediately add some caveat or other — `God is love but he is also just’, `God is love but he is primarily holy’ and so forth. Many people are inclined to do exactly this — we should note that John was not.