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.