To head off our Crises in Babylon series, here’s a conversation with Dr. Gerald Sittser, a specialist in the history of Christianity. We talk about “ordered love,” the conversation on to homeschool or not to homeschool, how our worship services differed from those of the ancient church, as well as what early Christians think might think if they somehow were transported to our context. My questions are in bold.

You’ve written the best accessible resource on the early church that I’ve come across. What first garnered your interest in the early church? Can you unpack some of your journey and any “aha” moments along the way?

I made my way into early Christianity through the study of Christian spirituality. I realized over time that the early Christian movement focused on the main Christian beliefs that made Christianity what it is, the sine qua non of Christianity. But more than that, I discovered their commitment to an applied, a lived, a sacrificial Christianity rooted in practice and service. For the most part they were willing to live for Christ, and not simply believe in Christ, which sometimes led to martyrdom. During this period of study I also discovered a word that I had not been introduced to during my seminary years, though I spent a year studying church history from a very distinguished professor. That word was “catechumenate.” I knew what catechism was, but not catechumenate. My investigation showed me that that word described the early Christian process of disciple-making or Christian formation, which culminated some two to three years later in the Rites of Initiation. In my book on early Christianity, Resilient Faith, I devoted the last chapter, “Crossing to Safety,” to the catechumenate. It was one of the secrets to the success of the early Christian movement.

Where did early Christians meet and how did their worship services differ from ours?

In some way, it didn’t differ at all. The order of worship the church followed in the second century, at least according to Justin Martyr’s First Apology, differs little from our own. And yet everything was different. They met in apartments, homes, and rented halls. They feasted either before or after. They distributed tithes and offerings immediately upon collection. Their worship consisted of attuning to a frequency that the Roman Empire did not recognize or allow, like listening to Radio Free Europe in Vichy France during WW II. Their worship was kingdom oriented, unlike ours, which is often more culture oriented. It enabled them to resist Rome rather than capitulate to Rome.

Their worship consisted of attuning to a frequency that the Roman Empire did not recognize or allow, like listening to Radio Free Europe in Vichy France during WW II. Their worship was kingdom oriented, unlike ours, which is often more culture oriented. It enabled them to resist Rome rather than capitulate to Rome. -Gerald Sittser on early Christian

I personally hold the early church in high esteem. There is a sentiment though that I get from some modern Christians, a “that was then, this is now” attitude. Do we know with certainty the proper posture that modern Christians are to have toward early Christianity?

I’m not sure I know anything with certainty! In one sense these modern Christians of which you speak are right. We can never go back. Then was then, now is now. But we can certainly learn from the past. It is there as a resource. We can learn from failures as well as successes because we know at least about how the story turned out. Thus we know the German Church’s enthusiasm for Hitler and willingness to compromise was wrong, though that might have been less clear back then, more seemingly justifiable in light of the gains that appeared so attractive to them. We also know that the Confessing Church movement was in the main right.

The importance of early Christianity appears to be on the rise, and for many reasons, I am sure. But one stands out to me. They maintained a movement for over 300 years in a pre-Christendom environment. Currently we are trying to figure out how to be Christian in a post-Christian environment. We have things to learn from those early believers. Our circumstances are different—theirs pre-, ours post-Christendom—but there’s enough overlap to make that period especially helpful to us.

Evangelicals have a strong a-historical bent to us. We think we can return to the apostolic age, with brief stops during the Reformation period or the 18th-century evangelical awakenings. We are limiting our travels to a few brief stops. There is much more to see and learn from the entire historical landscape. Some lessons are cautionary tales; others sources of inspiration. Ignorance at this point is not a virtue. We have much to learn from every period, but perhaps the most, at least right now, from early Christianity.

Some lessons are cautionary tales; others sources of inspiration. Ignorance at this point is not a virtue. We have much to learn from every period, but perhaps the most, at least right now, from early Christianity. -Gerald Sittser

As you’re aware,  American Christians continue to be divided over social justice and the role the Church is to play in helping the poor. On the right, Christians are calling out other Christians for “the sin of empathy,” while the Christian left seems to want to preach a Jesus who only cared about social sins and not personal ones. How did the early church understand social sins and personal sins?

I’m not sure they thought much about it. For one, they had little or no access to state power and privilege. They couldn’t lobby or vote or protest. This limitation might have served to their advantage. Instead, they became an independent movement, which allowed them to develop their theology, ethics, liturgy, disciplines, institutions, and ministries largely on their own terms. They didn’t tell the state what to do, nor could they. They had to do it themselves. Thus the church became a model of ministry. The church cared for the widows and orphans; Christians visited prisoners and nursed the sick, especially during two major plagues that swept the Roman world. In time they started the first Christian hospitals. “Social sin” and “personal sin” are modern categories. I’m not sure they did—or could—separate them as we do. Discipleship included all of the above!

From what I know, early Christians did not join the military though the New Testament does tell us to “honor” our authorities, submitting to them. Can you speak into the issue of patriotism? Can Christians be both devout to King Jesus *and* pledge their allegiance to an earthly kingdom?

No, Christians did not join the military, at least not at first. But it was only a matter of time before Roman soldiers would be exposed to the gospel and become Christians. “On the Apostolic Tradition,” a handbook of Christian practice compiled around the year 200, indicates that the church was ambivalent about the military but not entirely opposed to converts who served in the military, though their baptism under some circumstances might have been postponed.

The use of the word oikoumene, or “Commonwealth,” might help me answer your question. Rome considered itself THE Commonwealth of the known (at least to them) world, the universal kingdom. But Christians used the word Commonwealth of their movement, too. But it was a very different kind of Commonwealth because it was answerable to a very different king. Christians can and should honor earthly officials and political institutions, as far as they can. There is no evidence that early Christians revolted against Rome, though there is plenty of evidence of martyrdom. Read the accounts of Perpetua and Polycarp for examples. The narratives tell us that they were willing to die at the hands of the state. Yet their was a kind of defiance in their stories, too. That defiance was rooted in their knowledge that their ultimate citizenship was in a different—and different kind—of Commonwealth, their allegiance to a different—and different kind—of king. They believed that the kingdom would triumph over all earthly empires and rules, but only through the powerful and gracious hand of God. As the “So-Called Letter to Diognetus states so elegantly, “Every foreign land is a fatherland, and yet for [Christians] every fatherland is a foreign land.”

J.D. Vance has come out in defense of the current President by appealing to a long Christian tradition known as ordered love (paraphrasing the VP). According to Vance, we’re called to love God, love our families, love our nation, and then we can love the world. He goes on to say that the left gets this all wrong, wanting to love the world first. Did anything like “ordered love” exist within early Christianity?

I think Augustine is the source of the idea of “ordered love.” “But living a just and holy life requires one to be capable of an objective and impartial evaluation of things: to love things, that is to say, in the right order, so that you do not love what is not to be loved, or fail to love what is to be loved, or have a greater love for what should be loved less, or an equal love for things that should be loved less or more, or a lesser or greater love for things that should be loved equally.” (On Christian Doctrine, I.27-28) But a hierarchy of loves is different from truly ordered loves, which is subservient to God’s plan of redemption. Love of country should be subservient to love of the kingdom. Love of God to any earthly love, whether spouse or children or friends. Besides, Christian or agape love should inform how we love everyone. Vance’s understanding could excuse us from ANY investment in—and love for—anyone outside of family, for example. I am father or step-father or father-in-law to ten adult children, grandfather to 12 grandchildren, friend to many. I don’t have TIME to love anyone else, really, unless God commands me to, which of course he does. Vance appears to be giving us a convenient excuse NOT to love outsiders and enemies. Jesus doesn’t seem to do that! The Parable of the Good Samaritan represents a very different perspective. Vance appears to be advocating for the priest and levite!

When it comes to the division in the church between progressive Christians and Christian nationalists (or those adhering to dominion theology), do you think unity is plausible?

Not directly, no. But sometimes an indirect solution is healthier than a direct one. The answer, it seems to be, is to confess our idolatry of the state, our eagerness to access political power, our willingness to compromise to secure and wield such power. Both sides, it seems to be, should repent of idolatry and return to the teachings of the NT, especially the teachings of Jesus, to the “first principles” of Christianity, as Origen called it. It will be hard on all parties involved. In my mind Ephesians 2:11-22 and Philippians 3:3-8 are key texts. Christ came to break down all walls of hostility, which includes parties and ideologies, in order to reconcile us all to him, and then to each other. Paul considered himself fully justified in being “confident in the flesh.” He came to identify his resume as a “loss.” Earthly power can be useful, but only if it is yielded entirely to God and God’s way of working in the world.

If early Christians were somehow transported to our time, what might they resonate with? What might they want to distance themselves from?

I’m assuming you are referring to their resonance, not ours. How would they see us? It is hard to say. But I have some hunches. I think they would marvel at three things in particular. The first is our freedom. Early Christians would lament how we squander this advantage by not taking advantage of it (play on words intended). We are free to serve. The state does not interfere. They is NO persecution here.  We can do what we want. We spend too much time trying to persuade other people (office holders and political institutions) to do what we can do ourselves. We point out the sin of racism, which is fair enough, yet we show little evidence of growing churches that are welcoming and integrated. The second is our wealth. They would be utterly scandalized by the resources we have at our disposal and fail to use for kingdom purposes. They would even be more scandalized by how we justify the accumulation of such wealth. Finally, they would view Christians as soft and undisciplined. The favorite metaphors applied to discipleship in the early Christian period came from the world of athletics and the military, though both were directed toward a different end. Today we use the same metaphors to emphasize the value of power, victory, intimidation, and conquest. We refer to military metaphors as an excuse to tote guns; early Christians to remain courageous and steadfast in the face of martyrdom. Quite a difference there. Our “manly” Christianity and theirs were not the same. Women were as “manly” as men when facing martyrdom. Notice Perpetua’s steely gaze when paraded in the arena before her death. Do you want to mess with her?

In America, Christians are discussing pros and cons of sending their children to public schools, or homeschooling with a Christian-worldview curriculum. Can you speak into the challenge of raising children in the faith in modernity?

I’ve raised three children. Now I see my grandchildren almost every day. I care about this very much. In my mind the school to which we send our children is a secondary issue, though still important. There are risks involved no matter where we send our children, whether to public schools, conservative Christian schools, or classical Christian academies.  Or, for that matter, keep them home. The first alternative has value because it embodies support of public institutions and exposes our children (or grandchildren!) to the world and the people for whom Christ died.  We must know that world and those people in order to reach them, though obviously not be consumed by that very same world. Christian schools offer greater protection, to be sure, as does homeschooling, which might be appropriate for younger children, though only for a season.  Eventually they must learn how to survive and thrive in that world. A classical Christian academy provides a first-rate education. But it, too, has its weaknesses. The right question to ask, it seems to be me, is this one: what do our children need to become serious, disciplined, grace-filled, grounded disciples? That should always begin in the home and at church. School choice matters, but is still secondary.

When you look toward the legacy of the early church, what seems to stand out the most to you?

We must beware of romanticizing the early church. As I told my students in every history course I taught, there is “no golden age” in the history of Christianity. We can learn from the church in every period of history, even when the church appeared to excel mostly in abuse of power. Early Christians did get some things right, and we can certainly learn from them. But they were still fallen human beings. Not every church grew; not every church was healthy and vital. Not every church member remained faithful, not every church member demonstrated active and mature faith. They faced many of the same problems we do today.

Still, having made this significant qualification, we can learn from this unusual period of history. Here is the most important lesson, in my mind. They took advantage of their relative independence, largely because Rome did not show much favor—really, none at all—toward Christians and Christianity. Rome was suspicious at best, and often hostile at worst. Christians suffered as a result, even to the point of death. Some Christians over-estimate the number of martyrdoms. But we must remember that a few deaths go a long ways, especially given the public nature of those martyrdoms and, in some cases, the high status of the people who died. Bishops were often the first to suffer death. Polycarp is a good example.

Christians took advantage of that independence to develop a Christian world view. It established its spiritual practices, it settled on a functional canon (very early on), it grew churches, and initiated ministries that over time exercised significant impact on the culture. Even pagan critics acknowledged the impact! They even developed a “discipleship pathway” to form new Christians in the faith and create a critical mass of functional Christians. Christianity as we know it today comes from that period. It is absolutely foundational.

We would be wise to guard the church’s independence today lest we be swallowed up by the vain pursuit of cultural power and privilege. When Christians define and wield power as the state does or, for that matter, any other earthly institution, it always loses because it compromises the unique way Jesus used power, which was as a suffering servant. We lose if we do.

What were some of the greatest challenges the early church faced?

The obvious answer is martyrdom, though I don’t think it is the correct answer. The early Christian movement faced two temptations that pulled it in equal and opposite directions. The first was to isolate from Rome, which would have preserved it as a movement but at the cost of influence and growth. The second was to accommodate to Rome, which would have won Rome’s acceptance but at the cost of its uniqueness. Amazingly, the movement split the difference. It avoided excessive isolation and accommodation, at least for the most part, and thus kept growing for roughly ten generations before Constantine assumed the throne and gave Christianity legal recognition and cultural favor. Ten generations is a long time to grow a movement, preserve its essential integrity, and endure hostility. Yet the church preached a message, built institutions, developed a robust intellectual culture, trained leaders, and provided services that, over time, exercises significant influence in the Roman world. Constantine was a smart guy to observe that he needed to court the Christians.

In your mind, what are the greatest threats to the witness of the modern American church?

The Framers of the Constitution did not want to imitate Europe. Every nation or territory in Europe had an established church. Both Madison and Jefferson wrote about this. They saw a state church as a threat to liberty. The First Amendment was the result: “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibity the free exercise thereof.” Christians were cut loose to exercise influence without state interference or support. The First Amendment leveled the playing field and allowed for a competitive and creative religious environment. For the most part this arrangement has served the Christian movement in America well.

But there is danger here, too. First, it tempts the church to appeal to “consumer tastes” to help the church survive and even grow, which forces Christian leaders into a bait-and-switch situation when they promise God will meet our every earthly need and then have to preach the Sermon on the Mount. Second, it tempts the church to over-accommodate to American culture and cultural values to achieve and protect what I would call the “cultural establishment” of religion. Christianity in America therefore excels in heresy! Freedom allows for it, and even promotes it. American Christianity, in short, can become too American. Even worse, when Christianity declines in influence, it is simply too easy to strive all the more to maintain cultural favor. I think the recent re-emergence of Christian Nationalism is a good case in point.

Chaos and uncertainty appear to be on the rise. How have you personally been able to find peace in trying times?

I remind myself daily that my citizenship is in Heaven, that my ultimate allegiance is to the kingdom of God and to King Jesus, that I belong to a global movement, not a national movement, that my true family extends all the back to the first century. The Christian movement has survived the rise and fall of many empires (Roman, Byzantine, British, American, etc.). It will continue to do so until Jesus returns to establish his kingdom and make all things right and well. I remind myself of these truths often, and then I put my head down and keep doing what God is calling me to do, refusing to get so distracted that I stop doing the will of God I already know.

For those Christians who want to better understand the early church, where can they begin?

I would recommend reading primary sources. Cyril Richardson’s collection is a good place to begin. Read Eusebius’ book on the history of early Christianity, too, which he wrote in the first half of the 4th century. Read a few collections of sermons from the Cappadocian Fathers. Read the Sayings of the Desert Fathers. Then read Robert Louis Wilkin’s The Spirit of Early Christian Thought, Alan Kreider’s The Patient Ferment of the Early Church, and Sittser’s Resilient Faith: How the Early Christian “Third Way” Changed the World. That will give readers a good start.

About Dr. Gerald Sittser:

Dr. Sittser grew up in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He attended Hope College and
Fuller Theological Seminary, where he earned his M.Div degree. He served as an
associate pastor at Emmanuel Reformed Church in Paramount, California, for five years,
then as chaplain at Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa, for six years before
returning to school, this time at the University of Chicago, to earn his Ph.D. in the
History of Christianity under Martin E. Marty. He taught theology at Whitworth
University until his retirement in 2021.

Dr. Sittser defines his calling as serving as a bridge between the academy and the
church. His writing and speaking evidence this commitment.

He speaks frequently at churches, Christian conferences, pastor’s conferences, as
well as on college campuses; he has made two trips abroad to teach, too, one to Nairobi,
Kenya, and the other to Santa Cruz, Bolivia. Married to Patricia since 2010, he has three
married children, two married step-children, and eleven grandchildren, whom he sees
often and adores. He enjoys woodworking, gardening, hiking, travel, classical music, and
exercise.