Page 4858 – Christianity Today (2024)

The environmental movement divides and confuses Christians, keeping us at arm’s length from a crucial arena of societal engagement. Many withdraw from environmentalism as an infectious carrier of New Age ideas. At last year’s Earth Summit in Rio, this was the response of the rapidly growing Brazilian evangelical church. In North America, similar tendencies are apparent in books and articles that dismiss population pressure, global warming, and ozone depletion as pseudoproblems, and belittle specific actions such as recycling or wilderness preservation.

Sometimes these Christian “anti-environmentalists” usefully remind us of the jungle of agendas and ideologies in which environmental concern moves. But to deny the reality of an environmental crisis is an enormous mistake for those who worship the Creator. Such a denial neglects a major human responsibility and withholds the gospel from one of the places where it most needs to be heard.

At the same time, Christian participation in some aspects of environmentalism embraces uncritically an emerging religious philosophy founded on the oneness of all things. In Rio, religious leaders attending a preconference “Sacred Earth” meeting issued a declaration of faith that “the universe is sacred because all is one.” It announced the need “to evolve earth ethics with a deeply spiritual orientation” and suggested that the ecological crisis is a spiritual crisis resulting not from sin, but from ignorance.

Many Christians find it difficult, in the religious pluralism of the environmental movement, to stand against such syncretism. The problem is made worse by the appearance, as Christian works, of books like Matthew Fox’s The Coming of the Cosmic Christ. That work dismisses as an Augustinian perversion any idea of original sin, welcomes the Earth itself as a kind of Christ, and dismisses as “Christofascism” any theology that speaks of the unique revelation of God in Jesus.

Yet apart from the posturing and contentiousness that marked the Rio conference, there are indications that Christians are beginning to assess environmental issues with more theological rigor and biblical accuracy. It is an area we can no longer avoid: the issues are forced on us today by fears that the tragic proportions of Hurricane Andrew and the African drought, for example, may be linked to human activity. And the philosophical underpinnings of environmentalism demand an answer to calls for a new “earth spirituality” in which we are told to recognize that we are part of a sacred Earth. (see “Is the Earth Alive?” on page 22).

The origins of environmentalism

The “environmental movement” is less than 30 years old. It emerged in the early 1960s, prompted by Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring, by growing concern over nuclear war and testing, and by widespread awareness of the damage brought about by postwar growth and technology. Christian (though not necessarily evangelical) concern over these issues dates back to this time as well. In 1961 in the World Council of Churches’ New Delhi Assembly, Lutheran theologian Joseph Sittler pointed out the declining health of the world’s environment and called for the churches to reaffirm that Christ was Lord of all creation. At that time, however, even in the socially aware World Council (as pastor H. Paul Santmire writes), “response to Sittler’s address at New Delhi was mainly one of polite indifference.” There was little serious discussion of the enviromental implications of Christian faith (evangelical or otherwise) until the late 1960s.

Ironically, it was an attack on the church (rather than any threat to creation itself) that galvanized Christian theological response.

In 1967, Science magazine published an address given by medieval historian Lynn White to the American Association for the Advancement of Science. That paper (“The Historic Roots of Our Ecologic Crisis”) called Christianity “the most anthropocentric religion the world has ever seen” and claimed that through such ideas as human dominion, the desacralizing of nature, and belief that ultimate human destiny is with God (and not the Earth) Christendom has encouraged a destructive use of creation.

Lynn White’s case against Christendom (valid or not) has become conventional wisdom in the environmental movement, and Christians continue to discover—and try to refute—its argument. One of the first extended evangelical responses was Francis Schaeffer’s Pollution and the Death of Man, published in 1970. Schaeffer acknowledged the extent of the problem, and the inadequacy of both pantheism, on the one hand, and a world-rejecting Christianity, on the other, to deal with it. He founded his Christian response on a Reformed theology that recognized both our shared creatureliness (he was not ashamed to speak of the Earth as “our fair sister”) and the unique role of human beings as creatures responsible to God. He called on churches to become “pilot plants” demonstrating the possibility of a “substantial healing” of the damage brought about by human greed.

An even more substantial work that appeared in 1970 was H. Paul Santmire’s Brother Earth. A Lutheran pastor, Santmire critiqued American Romanticism, which sentimentalized nature, and European theology, which mechanized it. In its place, with remarkable biblical and theological thoroughness, Santmire sketched an ethic of “The Created Realm of God” and an “Ethic of Responsibility.”

In 1977, Calvin College assembled a team of evangelical scholars to address “Christian Stewardship of Natural Resources.” The result, Earthkeeping: Christian Stewardship of Natural Resources, was an important resource throughout much of the 1980s for Christians interested in the subject. But for a variety of reasons, including the U.S. political climate of the past decade, environmental concern receded. Neither the culture at large nor evangelical Christians took much notice of environmental issues until quite recently.

Early evangelical thinking on the subject tended to suggest that the chief value of creation is to fuel human industry. That kind of anthropocentrism is inadequate. Yet in response, environmentalists have gone to the other extreme. Their explanations have often diminished the human to nothing more than one node in a cosmic web. The early “conservation” movement has grown into a philosophically more radical “deep ecology.” In response, evangelical thinking has been prompted into a more biblical understanding of God’s concern for the whole creation.

Healthy planet, healthy humans

Evangelicals also have been compelled to defend the crucial biblical teaching on the distinctive role of human beings in creation—unpopular as that doctrine is in much of the environmental movement. In fact, many thoughtful Christians harbor suspicions of the environmental movement because it has seemed to be more concerned about nonhuman creation than human needs. Even socially concerned evangelical groups like Evangelicals for Social Action and the Sojourners community have, until recently, tended to regard the environmental movement as a luxury of the comfortably developed northern nations and an excuse to ignore the deep human needs of the poor.

That perception is changing, however, among Christians and non-Christians alike. In 1987, a UN report of the Commission on Environment and Development titled Our Common Future, explains that a healthy planet and a healthy human population together make up one goal, not two: Humans will not prosper if the Earth languishes, an insight that is certainly consistent with what the Bible calls “shalom,” or true peace. Increasingly, Christian missions and relief organizations have come to recognize that environmental and developmental needs are not only compatible, but inseparable. Paul Thompson, an executive with World Vision, speaks of a kind of “Damascus Road” experience when he realized a few years ago that meeting human needs without a larger caring for the Earth was unbiblical and ultimately impossible.

Another recent recognition by evangelicals of this essential harmony was the Oxford Declaration on Christian Faith and Economics, hammered out among Christians of widely differing economic persuasions in January 1990. Theologians and economists were able to sign a statement asserting, “God the Creator and Redeemer is the ultimate owner.” The declaration went on, “When we abuse and pollute creation, as we are doing in many instances, we are poor stewards and invite disaster.… Economic systems must be shaped so that a healthy ecological system is maintained over time.”

An evangelical response

Evangelical Christians can and should do more than just talk and theorize about the environment. We could begin by becoming aware of our creatureliness and delighting in it as a gift from God. That worshipful awareness should lead to changes in our use of creation. Christian individuals and churches could provide models of a different, less wasteful, more thankful way of life. For Christians in the wealthy world, this is one of our greatest challenges.

Caring for creation also can mean doing the best work we can in our chosen vocation. Hidden from public view in the Earth Summit, for example, was the work of Susan Drake, a State Department negotiator. She played a major role in crafting many of the U.S. positions on environment, often against considerable opposition and spiritual struggle. Throughout the process, she said she was helped immeasurably by the prayer support of Christians in her church. At a key point in organizing the Earth Summit several years ago, the mere suggestion of holding such a meeting had died because of disagreements among the many UN nations organizing it. Susan persuaded the differing nations to agree on a formula by which the summit could go forward. Thus without the courageous and prayerful work of an unpraised Christian, there would not have been an Earth Summit in Rio.

Similar examples abound as Christians translate their concern for creation into their work in influential ways. In Washington State, Ruth Scott acts as wilderness manager for Olympic National Park, bringing her concern for care of creation into the management decisions affecting the mountain and rain forest vastness of one of the nation’s treasures. In England, Ghillean Prance, a Christian who heads up the Royal Kew Gardens, has become a world authority on rainforest botany (see profile in CT, July 22, 1991, p. 26).

Among institutions, certainly one of God’s gifts to the church in the U.S. has been the AuSable Institute for Environmental Studies. This well-equipped laboratory, library, and study center in the woods of Michigan used to be a Christian camp, but in the early 1970s it became the site of one of Michigan’s more productive oil wells. Under the guidance of a far-sighted board, the income from the oil has funded an endowment that supports environmental education among Christian College Coalition schools. Headed by Cal DeWitt, professor of environmental studies at the University of Wisconsin, the AuSable Institute has hosted productive meetings of evangelical scientists and theologians from all over the world, resulting in the publication of a number of books and a chance for environmentally concerned Christian leaders to think together on the issues. If there is an evangelical center for care of creation, it is probably here.

Last summer, at a meeting sponsored by the Oxford Center for Mission Studies, the AuSable Institute, and supported by the World Evangelical Fellowship, Christian scholars from five continents examined the same issues addressed by the Earth Summit, such as balancing human needs and the needs of the Earth. In an environment of worship and prayer, the results were considerably different: a World Evangelical Network was formed to encourage evangelicals worldwide to think about their care of creation in the light of biblical and theological reflection, and to generate the resources to do so.

Are 10 Billion People A Blessing?

No environmental issue is so troubling as the fact of growing human numbers. The dreary statistics are familiar: It had taken from the beginning of human history to 1940 for the human population to reach 2 billion. In the half-century since 1940, that number has increased to 5.5 billion, and it is growing at a rate of 92 million people per year. Even more startling, if couples today agreed to limit their children to two, the population would still climb by another 6 billion in the next 35 years (since so much of the world’s population is still below childbearing age).

The issue is a particular problem for Christians, in part because Christian understanding of the worth of the human individual has helped to increase population by rapidly reducing the death rate over much of the world. But the same high standard of human worth makes many Christians reluctant to support some stringent strategies for limiting population, such as abortion or even (in the case of the Catholic church) artificial birth control. And Christians are understandably reluctant to let any socio-political agenda affect something so basic as the size of the family. Not surprisingly, these attitudes have increased criticism of Christianity among environmentalists.

A recent work by Christian biologist Susan Powell Bratton, Six Billion and More (Westminster/John Knox), explores the population dilemma with biological, sociological, and biblical insight. Bratton makes the important theological point that whereas the Old Testament often implies the number of children one has is a sign of God’s blessing, the New Testament consistently avoids such an understanding. Bratton makes a strong case for limiting family size within a consistently “prolife” position.

Crucial as the population issue is, in the wealthy world it is often used as a way of avoiding facing an even more serious and immediate problem: the high consumption rates of North Americans. A child born into an average American family will use up to 50 times as many of the Earth’s goods—and leave at least that much more waste—as a child born into a poor family in the “developing” world (where 88 of the 92 million people added to the world will be born this year).

The tragedy is that the standard of “development” to which those billions aspire is set by us in the “developed” world.

By Loren Wilkinson.

Toward a doctrine of creation

Important theological issues are at stake in the environmental movement; evangelical clear-headedness on the issues requires a more thorough doctrine of creation. After all, it is God’s good creation that is at risk—not “nature” or “resources” or even “the environment.”

Yet the creation-evolution debate has reduced the high biblical concept of creation to a spate of arguments about its how and when. The tragic result has been that whole generations of Americans (Christian or not) think that a belief in “creation” commits one to the notion that God’s creative acts took place only at the beginning of time. Missing is the robust biblical picture of a triune Creator, transcendent and immanent, by whose Spirit each living thing is quickened and renewed (Psalm 104:30), and in whose Word “all things hold together” (Col. 1:17).

Christians today are underrepresented in the biological sciences. Yet these disciplines reveal that creation is an unfolding process, not just a one-time act. As we develop a richer understanding of God’s ongoing activity of creating, perhaps the study of creation will be seen as an act of praise for the Creator, as well as a way to refute reductionist evolutionary theories. It is short-sighted and self-contradictory to regard life on Earth as an accident; it is just as shortsighted to ignore what creation tells us about itself.

A second theological issue involves the “curse” on the Earth. This doctrine looks back to the Fall to explain the apparent harshness of the present created order in which all living things must devour something—soil, plants, animals—to live. But do we let it explain too much? Ecology has been described as the study of who is eating whom, a definition that makes plain that some forms of death are integral to the created order that God called good. Perhaps our repugnance at a biosphere in which creatures eat each other may be a bit like Uzzah’s steadying the ark of the covenant. The ark of creation is a rough place, and God’s idea of goodness is apparently much wilder than our own.

In addition, many have located the consequences of the curse in the creation itself. But out present woes are due rather to our sinful use of and relationship to the Earth than to any malfunction of the created order as much. Hosea’s words make the situation clear: After a blunt, familiar catalogue of human sinfulness, he concludes, “Because of this the land mourns, and all who live in it waste away; the beasts of the field and the birds of the air and the fish of the sea are dying” (4:3). Our goal should be to restore our proper relationship with the Earth, to make it one of mutual blessing.

A third theological issue raised by the environmental movement is eschatological: What is the fate of the Earth in God’s ultimate plan? Premillennial thought (especially in America) sometimes emphasizes the idea of an imminent, literal destruction of the Earth through divine wrath. The new heaven and the new earth, in such a view, replace the old, from which humans alone are saved. Using this framework, some Christians interpret environmental problems, such as population pressure, global warming, and species extinction, as pointers to the end time: not exactly to be welcomed, but neither to be resisted through futile efforts to save a world dismissed as “the late, great planet Earth.”

Other Christians, convinced that God has not made a throwaway world, are rediscovering a deep biblical theme that sees the gospel as good news for all of creation, not just humans. They are rediscovering the truth that redemption is not human salvation out of a doomed creation, but rather the restoration of all God’s purposes in creation. Theological support for this view comes from theologians as diverse as Irenaeus in the second century and John Calvin in the sixteenth.

Closely connected to eschatology is a fourth biblical theme: the place of humanity in creation. This is of crucial importance in an ideological atmosphere that suggests that the best things humans can do is to reduce the self-valuation that has led them to create the problems in the first place. Here the all-important principle is stated by Paul in Romans 8: Creation waits “in eager expectation” for the children of God to be revealed. In ways we hardly understand, it will be the human privilege to complete creation and be its voice of praise to the Creator.

A final theological idea in need of further evangelical reflection is a biblical cosmic Christology. The New Testament teaching that our Redeemer Jesus Christ is also our Creator and Sustainer has not been sufficiently stressed in Protestant thought. And the doctrine is confused now by the theological laxity of Matthew Fox, whose “cosmic Christ” is little more than a principle of interconnectedness available to all through the Earth itself.

The full biblical doctrine is more adequately stated by Irenaeus, who in the second century declared: “For the Creator of the world is truly the Word of God: and this is our Lord, who in the last times was made man, existing in this world, and who in an invisible manner contains all things created, and is inherent in the entire creation, since the word of God governs and arranges all things.… He came to His own in a visible manner, and was made flesh, and hung upon the tree, that he might sum up all things in himself.”

On this foundation, a Trinitarian understanding of the Creating and Redeeming God, evangelicals can build a more spacious understanding of the gospel. The gospel is good news indeed, announcing a renewal of creation that begins in the hearts of men and women—God’s image bearers and stewards—who have been reconciled with him. That is the true foundation on which our care for creation should be based.

Loren Wilkinson is the writer/editor of Earthkeeping in the ’90s (Eerdmans) and the coauthor, with his wife, Mary Ruth Wilkinson, of Caring for Creation in Your Own Backyard (Servant). He teaches at Regent College in Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada.

Making Friends With Galileo

As a recent reversal by the Catholic church suggests, faith and science need not be enemies.

Last fall, Pope John Paul proclaimed that the Roman Catholic Church erred in condemning Galileo for arguing against the accepted view of the Earth as the center of the universe. The pontiff noted that the verdict of the 1633 trial became a symbol of the church’s “supposed rejection of scientific progress.”

What implications does this admission have for the church today? How can Galileo serve as a current model for understanding the scientific and biblical views of nature?

First we need to put the record straight. Galileo’s primary enemies who engineered his downfall were the Aristotelian natural philosophers (scientists) in the academic establishment. Beginning with his student years in 1581 at the University of Pisa, he continually challenged his professors. On point after point, he demonstrated how their inherited science was in error.

Galileo promoted an entirely new way of doing science based on experiment and mathematical analysis. He was not content to argue in Latin in the faculty lounge, but attacked the professors in lectures and pamphlets. Galileo’s major lifelong battle was to free the new science from the authority of philosophy.

After 20 years of defeat on academic turf, Galileo’s bitter enemies formed a league to muzzle him on theological grounds. In 1614 they enlisted a fiery young priest to condemn as heresy his promotion of the Copernican theory of a moving Earth. Galileo then showed himself a competent theologian in his presentation to the Holy Office. He made two major points: astronomical theories could not be matters of faith; the new cosmology was in harmony with the Bible, which speaks in the ordinary language of the people. The scientist declared, “The Bible tells how one goes to Heaven, not how the heavens go!”

Nevertheless, at his trial in 1633 the Inquisition found the “mobility of the earth” contrary to Scripture. Galileo was forced to recant. He spent the last nine years of his life under house arrest near Florence, where he continued his scientific writing.

Galileo did not try to persuade his church to accept the Copernican view; he wanted it to stay out of all scientific arguments. He fought to free the new science from the authority of theology as well as philosophy.

The scientist remained loyal to his church even though it had turned its back on him. He recognized that his suffering was due primarily to the Aristotelian scientists.

Science lessons

Galileo’s life can teach us several important lessons. First, contrary to a long-standing mythology, his science and theology were not enemies but partners—two “books of God.” “God is known by Nature in his works, and by doctrine in his revealed word.” The Book of Nature is written in the “language of mathematics”; the Book of Scripture is in everyday language of the people primarily for “the salvation of souls and the service of God.” (This partnership was also recognized by such scientific pioneers as Copernicus, Kepler, Pascal, Newton, and Hoyle.)

Second, attempts today by some scholars to make modern science support their New Age or naturalistic philosophy reverses Galileo’s “scientific revolution.” It is a blatant misuse of science.

Third, current attempts by some theologians to derive or evaluate science from the Bible is equally misguided. It repeats the 1633 error that has given Christianity an antiscience stigma.

John Paul also noted about biology and biogenics, “Many recent scientific discoveries and their possible applications affect man more directly than ever before … to the point of seeming to threaten the very basis of what is human.” As Christians we must resist the temptation to make the Bible do science. Then we can seek its guidance on how to use science and technology for the glory of God and the good of his creation.

By Charles E. Hummel, author of The Galileo Connection: Resolving Conflicts Between Science and the Bible. He is the former director of faculty ministries for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship.

Sins And Other Obsessions

Many people view the church as some kind of regulatory agency for the kingdom of God, a spiritual OSHA that multiplies rules just because it has nothing better to do. As a result, they tend to reduce the Christian faith to ethics. That perception was reinforced late last year by the way the media reported the first comprehensive, official statement of Roman Catholic teaching since 1566, when the Council of Trent responded to the Protestant Reformers.

This new 500-page catechism is very likely a significant milestone in the history of Christian theology, since it is the first comprehensive doctrinal formulation to incorporate the insights of Vatican II.

The importance of the event was, however, obscured by the news media’s focus in reporting it. “New catechism asks tolerance of gays,” ran the headline in Chicago’s largest paper. The article went on to summarize the catechism’s catalogue of sins. On hom*osexuality: hom*osexual acts are “intrinsically dissolute [and] contrary to natural law”; while hom*osexuals are instructed to practice chastity and the rest of us are urged to “avoid unjust discrimination against them.” In addition, financial speculation, abuse of the environment, artificial insemination, forging checks, and badly performed work are all on the sin list.

This is important information for those who want to avoid causing our loving heavenly Father unnecessary pain. But was ethics all there was in the catechism’s many pages? Since an English edition is not yet available, we called Father John Pollard at the U.S. Catholic Conference. He confirmed our suspicions. Not just our Chicago paper, said a distressed Pollard, but the news media in general had focused on do’s and don’ts. There was, however, much more. Of the volume’s 230 chapters, only 80 have to do with moral issues.

We know one reason why the media focused their catechism coverage on sin: Sin sells. Murder, graft, and scandal sell newspapers.

Another reason: Studies have shown that news journalists are among the least churched, least religiously informed groups in the United States—right along with university professors. Because the unchurched often view the church as an officious parent saying don’t, don’t, don’t, sin may be the only aspect of religious teaching most news reporters can grasp.

But before we cry shame, let us look to our own, evangelical one-sidedness.

Barely two weeks before the Catholic hierarchy announced its new catechism, we sat in a press conference where a massive initiative was announced to restore the teaching of Christian moral principles to the schools of the former Soviet Union. The organizations responding to the (mainly) Russian invitation had established credentials as evangelistic ministries. But the carefully worded invitation from the Russian education ministry kept the focus on the role of Christian moral principles in building good citizens. They clearly wanted morality, but could not promote religion. These ministries face the danger of allowing the Christian faith to be reduced to mere morals. In the momentary glow of being invited to take on moral education, could they fail to communicate its basis?

Classical liberal theology was an attempt to reduce the teaching of Jesus to a set of universal moral precepts. That effort is now discredited. But do evangelicals avoid the trap? Of course, we have known since the Reformation that faith was more than being on our best behavior. We know that through faith we stand in a justified relationship with the living God who is both judge and savior. And we know that theology, the truth about God, will shape our relationship with him.

But how many of our youth, growing up in our homes and our churches and learning more from our behavior than from our teaching, gain the impression that being Christian primarily means being heterosexual, monogamous, and hard-working? How often have we heard teens complain that no one has told them Christianity is far more than acting respectable?

Christianity has always had to battle the temptation to reduce religion to rules. As the restrictive character of the rules has faded, many of our churches still seem devoted to promoting a religion of rules—positive, helpful rules, but rules nonetheless. Thus we preach rules for success, rules for healthy relationships, rules for positive self-esteem. We now have positive rules rather than negative rules. But self-help Christianity still tends to reduce religion to rules.

Perhaps it is our American lust for relevance and application that bedevils us, always wanting to know what the faith means for daily living. Perhaps it is a lack of security that drives us to substitute performance standards for safety in the Father’s love. But God, our Father, and Christ, our Bridegroom, call us to fuller knowledge and a restored relationship. And as Bride and Offspring, obedience is the flower and not the root of our faith.

By David Neff.

No Comment Department

From revised lyrics to “Amazing Grace” as sung at San Francisco’s notoriously liberal Glide Memorial United Methodist Church:

’Twas guilt that taught my heart to fear,

And pride my fears relieved;

How precious did that pride appear,

The hour I first believed!

Can any works of lasting value come from the film or theater industries these days? Some critics might answer that question with a resounding no! Indeed, many have. But have they heard of the New Harmony Project?

It is eight o’clock on a cool, spring morning in the former utopian community of New Harmony in southwest Indiana. In the early 1800s, people flocked here to be a part of an experimental, harmonic society. Today a company of artists is seeking its own harmony: that of truth with theater. For over two weeks, almost 80 actors, writers, directors, and others have been putting in ten-hour days producing a film and rehearsing three plays.

But time is running out. The group now has less than two days before this annual 17-day theater and film workshop culminates with final play readings and a movie premiere—and their work is far from over.

But that does not seem to bother the handful who are heading to daily worship in the small, cylindrical Waddam’s Chapel. What happens in this chapel on a small scale is but a taste of what happens at the New Harmony Project on a much larger one.

Like most of the interiors around the 175-year-old town, the chapel is stark. It contains a few Shaker chairs and some pads for kneeling, offering small glimpses of the town’s past.

Attendance is at 20, a bit higher than usual. The group begins by singing “Be Thou My Vision,” “Psalm 5,” and a few other songs. Then author Walter Wangerin, one of the project’s directors, reads from Paul’s first Letter to the Corinthians: “Do not deceive yourselves. If any one of you thinks he is wise by the standards of this age, he should become a ‘fool’ so that he may become wise. For the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight.”

He speaks of performers’ temptation to see themselves not as vessels of truth but rather as possessors of it. “People sometimes worship, obey, and serve stars—they deify them,” he tells the group. “But when your acting is right, you shine a light on truth or beauty—not on yourselves.”

When he finishes, an actor named Angelina teaches the group a new song: “Me and Jesus, We Got a Good Thing Going.”

“It’s pretty easy to learn,” the young woman from Los Angeles says. Few have ever sung it before, but by the end they are clapping and singing in fourpart harmony and rounds, and when they run out of verses they make up their own. Within minutes they have taken a few simple verses, added their trained voices and creative minds, and crafted a sweet song of praise to heaven.

Utopia refashioned

The New Harmony Project is not a distinctly Christian endeavor, though there are a number of Christians, including Wangerin, on the board. Established in 1986, the project is a resource network that encourages development of scripts that explore positive human values.

In order to pass muster with the board, a submitted work must, in Wangerin’s words, “name, celebrate, honor, and praise order in the midst of chaos; life in the midst of death; atonement in the midst of separating hatred; liberty in the midst of oppression; sacrifice in the midst of vanity.”

And if a work meets those criteria—and is chosen through the project’s screening process—it is brought to this small town, where in 1814 a group of Lutheran separatists first settled to await the millennium, and where later a secular, utopian community was attempted. Here, for two weeks, selected works are read, critiqued, revised, and then staged by some of the industry’s most talented professionals.

The project’s Christian element is not worn on anyone’s sleeve, but rather it is delicately woven into New Harmony’s fabric—in the plays themselves and in the way they are produced.

One of this year’s plays, The Truth About Charlie, is about to be rehearsed in the Parish House, around the corner from the chapel. Written by Dolores Whiskeyman and set in the 1950s, the drama explores an American family’s struggles to come to grips with the difference between true faith and mere religiosity.

“Can I say how I feel about this line?” asks actor Michael Gross (Steven Keaton of “Family Ties”), who plays the father, Gus. “There are too many can’ts in it. Can I cut some?… And I don’t think my character would say ‘all right’ here.” The director and writer consider the requests and agree to make them.

Each of the works that comes here goes though several rounds of changes like this. And, as on this occasion, the changes happen in a constructive, supportive way.

“This is a place where people do not have to bite each other’s backs,” says Wangerin. “And they nevertheless do very, very good work.”

Many plays that got their start here—Opal, Mama Drama, and Johnny Pye and the Foolkiller, to name a few—have gone on to successful runs in New York, Los Angeles, and other cities, some winning multiple awards. Another play, The View from Here, by Margaret Dulaney, opens off-Broadway this month.

Says writer Buzz McLaughlin, dramaturge for another of the project’s plays, “This is not a showcase for stars seeking contracts or pumping up their own careers. It’s about giving.”

Meals are served buffet-style in the local inn’s large banquet room, where the famous and yet-to-be-discovered and on-stage and behind-the-scenes participants alike eat together, egos and laurels shed at the door. At lunch, Buzz’s wife, Kris, reflects on what she will take from her second year at New Harmony: “Some people live on this experience for the whole year, just knowing that there are others out there who stand for the same things.”

And because nobody gets religion crammed down his or her throat, even nonbelievers working at the project do not seem put off by any of its Christian elements. Some are even drawn by them. “I don’t look at my experience here from a Christian point of view,” says one student actor, “but this is like another world. There is such a deep spirit of cooperation.”

The curtain calls

The following evening a steady downpour of rain does not seem to have dampened anyone’s spirits. All make their way to an auditorium for the final reading of another of the project’s three theater productions, This City of Dreams.

As the audience files in, Walter Allen Bennett, Jr., the play’s writer, sits quietly and somewhat pensively in the middle of a row not far from the stage. Asked about his experience at the New Harmony Project, he says, simply, “It has been far greater than I could have expected.” And it shows in his work.

Set in New Jersey in 1965, his drama examines the relationship between parents and their adult children in a working-class, African-American family. A very real fear of failure, Bennett’s work suggests, can drive parents to place unrealistic and sometimes destructive demands on their children.

Afterward, Wangerin solicits comments on the play’s progress. “I thank you,” one woman, obviously moved, says to Bennett. “I really got a sense of the true grief parents feel when their children do not realize their dreams. I didn’t see that in Death of a Salesman; I didn’t see that in Fences. But I see it tonight. Thank you.”

And on go the comments—a word of praise from a writer sitting on the left, a criticism on pacing from an actor in the back. “You eliminated a lot of the predictable,” says one. “There were a lot more surprises,” offers another.

As diverse as the statements are, they each hint at the same thing: Something has happened to your play here. That something has made it richer, and it has helped me see what I have not seen in other places. And each remark captures the essence of what happens to just about everyone and everything that passes through New Harmony.

By Thomas S. Giles.

Some years ago theologian Carl Henry, no less, was picketed at a meeting by fellow believers who disliked what he had said on a public-policy question. I wondered then how it would feel to be thus treated: now I know.

The college where I teach has just been picketed for an afternoon for something I wrote in CT. Two beefy protesters stood at the door buttonholing students and passers-by. The big words on their placards were “Packer,” “hijacker,” and “ecumenism.” I was not close enough to read the rest. But certainly I was being trashed.

Both the protesters had previously phoned me, so I knew what the trouble was. I wrote in CT of some Roman Catholics being spiritually alive, without saying (1) official Roman teaching about Mary and the Mass is idolatrous, so that (2) apparent spiritual life among its adherents has to be hypocritical and unreal. The Protestant mafia was damning me for these omissions.

To set the record straight: I have in the past written that the doctrines of the Mass (transubstantiation and sacrifice) and the practice of Mariolatry, with the Mariological ideas that support it, are not acceptable. These non-scriptural teachings involve a real if unintended obscuring of the true glory of Christ the Savior. On (1) above, therefore, trashers and trashed were substantially agreed, though they express themselves differently. But I have also written that the God of grace does not refuse to bless biblical truths about Christ to sinners who, in what Roman theology calls invincible ignorance, flank them with mistakes. So, as I offend Roman Catholics by thinking them invincibly ignorant (which is, of course, what they think of me), I now offend some Protestants by thinking of Roman Catholics who love the Lord Jesus as real Christians. Maybe I should be surprised that I do not receive more hate mail.

Home I went, then, with my new identity: Packer the picketed pariah. How did I feel? Not exactly good, but not so bad as you might suppose. You will have noticed, as I have, that differences of natural temperament and childhood experience combine to produce in people very different reactions to negative criticism. Some, who have egos like eggshells, find all criticism crushing; others, whose egos are like cannonballs, get exhilarated by the notoriety that criticism brings (“I don’t mind what they say about me as long as they spell my name right”).

I felt a rush of somewhat childish fury when the pickets barged into my office to tell me what they planned to do, interrupting an academic conference after being asked to wait till I was free; I felt some embarrassment for the college, and a short, cold squeeze on the soul at the thought of having someone declare me worthless; but otherwise I felt very little. A better man might have felt sadder for the protesters than I did.

The episode sparked two thoughts.

First: There are good and bad ways of fulfilling the ministry of criticism among Christians. This ministry is important, for all we who seek truth and wisdom take up from time to time with wrong ideas and need correction. But discussion and debate ordinarily achieve more than gestures of denunciation. To think of sustained denunciation as the essence of faithful witness, and of the mindset that will not see any good in what is not totally good as a Christian virtue, is very wrong. Denouncing error has its place, but since it easily appears arrogant and generates much unfruitful unhappiness, anyone who feels drawn to it should take a lot of advice before yielding to the urge.

Second: Answering criticism that seems ill-informed and irresponsible is not always a duty. John Wimber and his colleagues are doing this again after years of ignoring such criticism: is their new policy as wise as was the old one? Self-defense easily becomes self-exaltation. It is 40 years since I ran across Augustine’s prayer, “Lord, deliver me from the lust of vindicating myself.” It sticks in my heart still, and I am glad it does. I should certainly be a worse person were it not there.

Beacon Light in Nepal

We appreciated the inspiring and challenging article “Nepal’s Book of Acts” and the beautiful pictures accompanying it [Nov. 9]. We especially appreciated the testimony of Min Raj and his strong belief that men and women are partners in Christ for the work of the kingdom and must be espoused by Christianity worldwide if we are to win this planet for Jesus Christ. His statement should be a beacon of light for us all.

Clyde R. & Dorothy L. Hampton

Aurora, Colo.

Profamily a buzzword?

I read with interest “Washington’s Profamily Activists” [Nov. 9]. Having been on both sides of the fence, I have some observations.

Often the term profamily is little more than a buzzword for the political Right. For Beverly LaHaye to defend support for SDI and opposition to gun control and parental-leave legislation as “profamily” is about as absurd as someone from the Left defending hom*osexual marriages as “profamily.” Such muddying of profamily concerns serves only to set up Christians for disdain and ridicule and seriously diminishes our credibility on other issues.

Before we rush uncritically to embrace the profamily agenda, Christians need to remember that our foremost job is to lift up the light of Jesus Christ. Too often that focus is splintered or muted, and the body of Christ is divided.

Anne Follis

Edwards, Ill.

Tracts still contemporary tools

I am dismayed over a comment in Chuck Colson’s column “Reaching the Pagan Mind” [Nov. 9]. He says, “The problem is that much of our evangelistic literature was written in the 1950s and 1960s; it assumes ideas and attitudes no longer generally accepted. To reach today’s pagan mind, we may have to drastically overhaul our tracts, brochures, and methods.”

Colson’s remark perpetuates a stereotype that we at American Tract battle almost daily: Most Christian gospel literature would be of more use as toilet paper supplement in the public restrooms where some of it is found. But saying most evangelistic literature was written in the 1950s or ’60s demonstrates ignorance of contemporary evangelistic literature. American Tract produces about 25 million pieces of literature a year representing over 200 different tract titles. A vast majority of those are less than 10 years old, and most are less than 5 years old. Even more ironic is the fact that in the last 5 years we have published gospel literature adapted (by permission) from the writings of Colson himself!

Perry Brown, Editor/Marketing Director

American Tract Society

Garland, Tex.

The Ultimate Fund Raiser

After much prayer and fighting, the library refurbishing committee settled on a fund raiser: a lottery.

Naturally, the traditionalists fussed: “Isn’t that gambling? Isn’t that unbiblical?”

But we used exegetical sleight of hand: “Lottery sounds like lottos, which sounds like koine Greek. The root stem, of course, is lot—as in ‘casting lots,’ which the Roman soldiers did for Jesus’ cloak. And note: the Bible never condemns them for it. So gambling is not the problem, but what we gamble for. To gamble for mammon—that’s sin. To gamble for something Christian—that’s a church fund raiser.”

“Sounds sneaky to me,” snarled one member. “Either that, or we’ll all have to raise our pledges by 20 percent.”

Everyone quickly discerned we had rightly divided the word of truth, and the first lottery was announced. The first grand prize? A 1958 edition of the Scofield Bible. Neither that nor the next few prizes generated many ticket sales: plaster of Paris praying hands bookends, a Rez Band poster, a year’s subscription to CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Then we discovered what people really wanted: exemptions. Our highest revenue producers were vouchers (to be used only once) that exempted people from having to eat pancakes made by the youth at their annual pancake breakfast, or teach fifth-grade boys Sunday school, or listen to an annual stewardship sermon, or attend the yearly congregational meeting, or atteend both the midnight Christmas Eve service and the Easter sunrice service in one year, or sit next to those who raise their hahds during praise choruses.

We held dozens of lotteries, raffling off many times these most popular prizes. In a matter of months, the library was completely refurbished.

Unfortunately, fifth-grade boys ran with abandon through the Sunday-school wing, and Stewardship Sunday was cancelled until further notice. Finally, after enough vouchers had been used, we mustered a quorum for a congregational meeting and immediately forbade lotteries, no matter how coveted the grand prize.

EUTYCHUS

Addressing frustrations

If I could only describe the smile that came to my lips after reading Speaking Out [“Arrogance Is Not a Family Value”] in your November 9 issue! Darrell Bock seemed to address every ounce of frustration I have experienced during this election year. I have been shocked and dismayed by the manner in which Christian brothers and sisters have addressed the issues of abortion, hom*osexuality, and the almost hateful manner in which they have spoken toward those within our congregation who voted for the Democratic ticket.

The Scriptures call us to live a life of high standards and uncompromising moral purity. But to accompany this with intolerance, bigotry, arrogance, and verbal abuse destroys the validity of the faith that we claim to cherish.

Ronalee A. Fenrich

Sacramento, Calif.

Also reluctant to praise extremism

After reading Tim Stafford’s article on extremism [Oct. 26], and reflecting on my own experience, I am even more reluctant than Stafford to praise extremism. The truth will always be offensive to some. However, if our methods of communication are offensive, apart from any truth they might convey, then the methods need to be seriously evaluated. The end does not justify the means.

Stafford’s comparison of today’s abortion rescue movement and the abolitionist movement was helpful. When I see the polarization and breakdown of dialogue over the abortion issue, I become concerned about what is ahead, but the call of evangelism needs to be utmost in whatever course we take.

Pastor Mark LaFollette

Bethel Baptist Church

Hayward, Wis.

I was disappointed that Stafford used historical argument rather than an exegetical or theological one. History is full of lessons, but Scripture is the Christian authority, and to take a major and a controversial position with no substantial reference to the Bible, to the history of Christian thought, or to major Christian positions on social ethics is poor method at best.

Pastor Van Campbell

Calvary Evangelical Free Church

Indiana, Pa.

Extremism did not free the slaves. Abraham Lincoln used the extremism of the abolition movement to shore up his flagging war effort. The Emancipation Proclamation was not published for the sake of the black people. It was issued for its effect on England and France, who were on record against slavery. It kept them out of the war.

Leon G. Johnson

Bath, N.Y.

The only time Jesus took an extreme action aimed at changing social practice was the cleansing of the Temple. He did not resort to manipulative or deceptive practice aimed at stirring up supporters for his cause. His action was direct, open, and justified only by Scripture.

Bob Garland

Northbrook, Ill.

I feel a comparison to the temperance movement is also appropriate. In each movement, Christians recognized sin and the bondage of sin over individuals and society. Each movement had martyrs, victories, and losses. In retrospect, we can see the lasting fruit of the Spirit and the passing labor of the flesh.

Steve Knudtsen

Dallas, Tex.

Seeing the unborn as God does

Paul Brenton is clearly a “casualty of the abortion wars” [Oct. 26] of which he wrote. In his criticism of rescue leaders, he uses his areas of disagreement to excuse himself from meeting the need of the hour—that babies are dying. Brenton has lost his way and does not see unborn babies the way God sees them.

Douglas Gwinn

Pasadena, Calif.

I am sure Pastor Brenton receives a lot of flak on how he feels about Operation Rescue, but I want to thank him for writing this article. Many of us Christians are strongly against abortion but do not feel blocking clinic doors is the way to stop it. Because we do not join in, we are accused of not caring. Not joining in, though, does not mean we are doing nothing. Somebody has surely forgotten how powerful prayer is! Maybe if more people prayed about how to fight abortion, God would show us a better way.

Phyllis Taulman

Gallatin, Tenn.

I was there in Buffalo and it is hard for me to believe we were at the same rallies! Of course shock and guilt are “stirred up.” The truth is that, to a large degree, the church is guilty of apathy and the sin of omission. I can only conclude that Brenton does not understand corporate guilt.

Elizabeth Kingsbury, Ph.D.

Gaithersburg, Md.

I also survived the “siege” of Buffalo. It bothers me that some of my prolife colleagues are not involved in other social policy issues. If we want a woman to keep her child, then public as well as private sector programs must be increased.

Pastor Kenneth J. Macari

North Park Presbyterian Church

Buffalo, N.Y.

Strong, but effective medicine

A hearty “Amen” to Walt Russell’s perceptive diagnosis of how relativism has infected the way we study and teach the Bible [“What It Means to Me,” Oct. 26]. Russell’s remedy for this illness—examining passages in their historical and biblical contexts—is strong, effective medicine.

Terrence Zank

Omaha, Nebr.

The world says to the church, “That’s your opinion.” Believers say to one another, “That’s just your interpretation.” I groan to find so few who understand the difference between opinions and interpretations of Scripture, and the authoritative declarations of Scripture. Yes, Virginia, it is possible to talk about what God’s Word objectively says.

Duane L. Burgess

Tucson, Ariz.

Birth teaching not in Dake’s Bible

I would like to comment on one inaccuracy in your News article, “Same Old Benny Hinn, Critics Say” [Oct. 5].

During a conversation with Hank Hannegraaf, Bob Lyle, Benny Hinn, and myself at a meeting in Dana Point, California, in answer to Mr. Hannegraaf’s question about women and birth, Benny Hinn did not say that he had “picked up that teaching” from Dake’s Annotated Reference Bible. There was mention of Dake’s Bible on a different subject but not the one reported. Dake’s Bible, to my knowledge, does not contain any such teachings.

Gene Polino, Administrator

Orlando Christian Center

Orlando, Fla.

Correction

A Capital Currents item (Oct. 5) includes the First Interstate Bank among businesses listed in a boycott announced by 14 members of Congress in reaction against pressure on the Boy Scouts of America (BSA) to hire hom*osexuals and remove belief in God from their oath. Congressmen Tom DeLay (R-Tex.) and Bill Archer (R-Tex.) have apologized to First Interstate Bank of Houston for the inclusion of First Interstate of Texas by implication. Each of the four Interstate Bancorp regions sets its own charitable contributions policy. The Texas and California Interstate institutions both support BSA and should not be included in the boycott.

Loren Wilkinson, author of this issue’s lead article, was also CT’s representative at last June’s Earth Summit in Rio de Janeiro. Our budget is normally unable to send reporters to distant venues, but special gifts have allowed us to create an Excellence Fund, which helps CTi’s various magazines reach special goals not within our normal editorial budget. Loren combined small grants from Regent College and CTi’s Excellence Fund with some personal hospitality in order to observe the Earth Summit up close.

On the final day of the summit, while government leaders were in session, Loren decided to see the area around the conference grounds. Returning from his excursion (on which he encountered a rock bearing the remains of several animal sacrifices), Loren was arrested by the soldiers of the Brazilian army, who were patrolling the conference center.

Perhaps he looked suspect, or perhaps the presence of the world’s top politicians made the security forces extra nervous. It was hard to tell what the problem was, since none of the soldiers spoke English, and Loren didn’t speak Portuguese. For two hours, they interrogated him, but with no success. Only once did he feel he made contact: when they catalogued his personal effects, one young militiaman noticed his Bible and his CHRISTIANITY TODAY press badge. “My brother,” he said to Loren as he reached his linguistic limits.

The Brazilian guards eventually released Loren, but since he was still in a high-security zone, he was immediately rearrested by United Nations guards. They confiscated his press credentials and expelled him from the grounds. It was, however, the last night of the Earth Summit, so Loren considered his work done and decided to kick back for the evening.

DAVID NEFF, Managing Editor

Praying to the saints began with the practice of praying for them. Any Christian who died was remembered in prayer, and services took place on the third, seventh, ninth, thirtieth, and fortieth day after death. For martyrs, annual remembrances of their death were celebrated and called “birthdays,” the day the person was born into heavenly life with Christ.

Soon churches drew up lists of martyrs, believing that prayer for martyrs was of “great benefit to those for whom it is offered” (Cyril of Jerusalem). Origen said praying for the dead attested to the living unity of Christians in heaven and on earth—the communion of saints.

Gradually, the church believed that martyrs, having made the ultimate sacrifice, already lived fully in God’s presence. They didn’t need the church’s prayers as much as the church needed theirs: “Only God can pardon, though we see that the merits of the martyrs have great weight before his tribunal” (Cyprian of Carthage).

When persecutions waned (and thus the number of martyrs), the church began to give honor to the lifelong sacrifice of virgins and ascetics. For instance, an inscription on a church dedicated to Martin of Tours (died c. 397) reads, “Seek for your patron [Martin], as he steadily follows the steps of the Eternal King.… Ask for [his] assistance: it is not in vain that you knock at this door. His generous goodness extends over the whole world.”

Despite fears of idolatry, the practice of praying to saints was affirmed by later church leaders such as Augustine and Aquinas.

Mark Galli is Associate Editor of Christian History.

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

Twentieth-century liturgical scholarship has searched for the origins of Christian worship.

The most recent conclusions are set forth by Paul F. Bradshaw in The Search for the Origins of Christian Worship (SPCK, 1992). Bradshaw challenges most current scholarship and argues that little can be known about early Christian worship. According to him, most documents describing early Christian worship are written later than assumed and have been reshaped by various layers of tradition.

However, the search for early Christian worship continues, concentrating on its Jewish roots. Three helpful recent works are: Carmine Di Sante, Jewish Prayer: The Origins of Christian Liturgy (Paulist, 1991); Eugene Fisher, The Jewish Roots of Christian Liturgy (Paulist, 1990); and Paul F. Bradshaw and Lawrence A. Hoffman, The Making of Jewish and Christian Worship (Notre Dame, 1991).

Special Topics

A number of books probe particular issues of worship in the early church. For example, the daily office [schedule of prayer] in cathedrals and monasteries is studied in Paul F. Bradshaw, Daily Prayer in the Early Church (Oxford, 1982).

The Eucharist of the early Christians is treated in Gregory Dix and Henry Chadwick, eds., The Treatise on the Apostolic Tradition of R. Hippolytus of Rome (Morehouse, 1992); and in Willy Rordorf, et al., The Eucharist of the Early Christians (Pueblo, 1978).

An excellent study in the Christian year is Thomas J. Talley, The Origins of the Liturgical Year (Pueblo, 1986).

An excellent resource of primary materials on evangelism and worship is Edward Jarnold, The Awe-lnspiring Rites of Initiation (Middlegreen, Slough: St. Paul, 1971). A helpful introduction to the relationship between worship and evangelism in the early church is Robert Webber, Liturgical Evangelism: Worship as Outreach and Nurture (Morehouse, 1986).

For an understanding of the place of the charisms, or spiritual gifts, in early Christian worship, see Ronald A. H. Kydd, Charismatic Gifts in the Early Church (Hendrickson, 1984).

Music and the Arts

Those interested in music and the arts in worship will have to be content with books that contain a chapter or two on the subject but are not exhaustive treatments. For music, I suggest Don Hustad, Jubilate, 2nd ed. (Hope, 1993). For dance, see Ronald Gagne, Thomas Kane, and Robert VerEeckes, Introducing Dance in Christian Worship (Pastoral Press, 1984). For art, see Brother Axelrod-Seton Shanlay, Clip Art of the Christian World: Christian Art from Its Origins to the Fifteenth Century (Pueblo, 1990). And finally, for architecture of the early church, see Paul and Tesa Clowney, Exploring Churches (Eerdmans, 1982).

Primary Documents

For the primary documents of early Christian worship, I suggest Lucien Deiss, Springtime of the Liturgy (Liturgical Press, 1979) and the newly released book by James White, Documents of Christian Worship: Descriptive and Interpretive Sources (Westminster-John Knox, 1992). The best interpretation of these documents is Allen Cabaniss, Pattern in Early Christian Worship (Mercer, 1989).

Dr. Robert E. Webber is professor of theology at Wheaton (Illinois) College and editor of The Complete Library of Christian Worship (Abbott Martyn, 1993).

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

Pearl / Lightstock

At the Last Supper, Jesus told the disciples to “keep on doing this as my commemoration.” But after Jesus had left them, early Christians recognized that the supper Jesus shared with his disciples had indeed been his last, and thus was unique. The conundrum was: how do we keep on doing an unrepeatable event?

For instance, if, as seems likely, the Last Supper was a Passover meal, or seder (which means “order of service”), early Christians wondered if they should “do this” only once a year at Passover. Were they to obey his command literally only once a year, according to Jewish tradition? But that would have tended to keep them effectively within Judaism. This solution would have obscured the uniqueness of Jesus and wiped out the reality of the new era Jesus had promised.

On the other hand, if they were to observe the meal more often than annually, how should it be done in a non-Passover format?

The early Christians soon realized they were going to have to be liturgically creative, even daring, if they were to keep on doing an unrepeatable event.

From Sabbath to Sunday

The earliest church decided to adopt a non-Passover meal format that could be observed any time and as often as necessary for the good of the infant church.

Such a format lay close at hand: in the weekly meal held in Jewish homes each Friday evening to hallow the beginning of Sabbath. The Christian meal, though, no longer emphasized Sabbath themes, but Sunday, with its themes of resurrection and a new era in the Messiah, who had consummated both Passover and Sabbath.

Thus, the weekly meal structure was taken from Judaism, but the contents were Christianized and the meal moved to Sunday. This resulted in the first “liturgical rule” for Christians: Lord’s Supper on Lord’s Day. With this step the Last Supper of Jesus modulated into the Eucharist of the church. It was the first way new wine was being poured into old bottles as the earliest Christians strove to obey the Lord’s command.

From Blessing to Thanksgiving

In addition, the Jewish prayers over the bread and cup were reworked. The words changed from “blessing” God for food and creation to “thanking” God for revelation in “Jesus your child.”

This verbal shift begins in the New Testament. In Matthew 26 and Mark 14, Jesus is shown “blessing” (NRSV) the bread; in Luke 22 and 1 Corinthians 11, he gives “thanks.” The shift is complete by the time of the Didache (a Christian document with sections composed about A.D. 60), especially when we compare its prayer formulas with those of the Jewish Seder.

For instance, at the Jewish Sabbath meals, the first of three short prayers said over a cup of wine mixed with water at the conclusion of the meal reads:

“Blessed are you, Lord our God, King of the universe, for you nourish us and the whole world with goodness, grace, kindness and mercy. Blessed are you, Lord, for you nourish the universe.”

The corresponding prayer in the Didache reads:

“We give thanks to you, holy Father, for your holy Name which you have enshrined in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which you have made known to us through Jesus your child; glory to you for evermore.”

Indeed, in the Didache the entire Christian meal is seen as a eucharist (Greek for “thanksgiving”): “About the Eucharist, eucharistize thus.…” The Jewish form remains; the content and vocabulary are new.

As one Jewish scholar has noted, ancient Jewish prayer protocol tended to “bless” God for creation, “thank” God for revelation, and “petition” God for redemption. Thus, when early Christians employed thanksgiving language in their meal prayers, they were highlighting Jesus as the revelation of God.

This early example of liturgical creativity was to be faithfully followed by all the Christian churches for the next fifteen centuries, and is still observed by Roman Catholics and the Orthodox. In recent decades the emphasis on giving thanks has been recovered in the Communion prayer in some churches of the Reformation.

The Waning of the Meal

It is clear from the New Testament that the Last Supper did not merely contain a meal but was a meal. It was Jesus’ custom to impart, especially to those closest to him, his gospel while dining with them. Even after his resurrection he reveals himself to two discouraged disciples on the road to Emmaus “in the breaking of bread” (Luke 24:13–35), and to others by the Sea of Tiberias at breakfast (John 21:1–29),

The primitiveness of the Didache is evident in that it simply presupposes a meal. During the meal, eucharistic prayers are arranged after the pattern of the Jewish Sabbath meal. Before the meal, thanksgiving prayers are said over an initial cup of wine and the broken bread. After the meal, the three-fold thanksgiving prayer is said over a final cup of water mixed with wine (the “cup of blessing” mentioned by Paul, using the Jewish name for it).

But already in 1 Corinthians 11, Paul chastises the Christians at Corinth for becoming greedy and drunk at the Supper. There can be little doubt the meal was gradually separated from the prayers because such unedifying behavior recurred.

When the meal was moved out from between the short prayers (over broken bread and over the final cup of wine and water), these two prayers were set back to back, and in their original order: bread first and then the cup. The immediate disadvantage was that the observance became so brief as to be almost negligible (the Didache prayers can be said slowly in about thirty seconds).

This may well have been a central reason for expanding the originally brief prayers to one larger and more rhetorical. This prayer eventually included a remembrance not only of the Last Supper (which Didache’s prayers surprisingly do not allude to) but of all salvation history—from Genesis to the life of Christ to the present. We clearly see this development in early-third-century eucharistic prayers from Syria, Egypt, and Italy. By the end of the fourth century, the unified prayer had grown to many pages, as one can see in the Syrian Apostolic Constitutions.

What Happened to the Meal?

The meal portion of the primitive Eucharist did not disappear, however. It migrated elsewhere in the life of the Christian community. The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus (c. 220), for example, describes a formal meal, endowed by someone of the community and supervised by the bishop and other clergy. The meal was held to provide religious instruction and charity (it helped feed the poor).

Hippolytus was careful, however, to distinguish this meal, which he calls “the Lord’s Supper,” from the Eucharist, which he calls “the Oblation.” The unbaptized catechumens could attend this Supper—as long as they did not sit at the table with the baptized—but they could not attend the Oblation.

The table talk at the Supper was to be on religious subjects and conducted by the bishop, the chief teacher of the church, or in the bishop’s absence, by a presbyter or deacon. Should no clergy be present, “blessed” bread was not to be given to the baptized, because only clergy could invoke such a blessing.

The Supper, which later authors sometimes call an agape, or love feast (although Hippolytus never uses either term), was tightly disciplined to avoid scandal. Hippolytus, like Paul, cautions against excess at the Supper: “But when you eat and drink, do it in good order and not unto drunkenness, and not so that anyone may mock you, or that he who invites you may be upset by your disorder.”

Eventually, this meal appears to have died out, at least as a regular feature of the church’s common life. For one thing, agapes and meals held in cemeteries to honor the dead (refrigeria) sometimes became riotous and even dangerous, especially after dark (urban crime was no less a problem then than now). For another, the church found other ways to dispense charity and religious instruction.

As churches grew and settled into routine, full-time offices developed to deal with such needs in more efficient and “professional” ways. In the urban church of Rome, for example, a system of charity distribution centers known as diakonae (“deaconries”) was established in poor neighborhoods and among the docks and warehouses along the Tiber River. In addition, academies for religious instruction were begun in Egypt in the late second century, and as the number of converts increased, so did the need for more adequate preparation for baptism. These institutions gradually displaced the Lord’s Supper as the preeminent structure for providing charity and religious instruction.

The Need for Fellowship

But the serious need for Christian fellowship that the Supper, or agape, helped fill did not fade. Indeed, as the churches grew into urban settings, the intimate fellowship of the earlier, smaller communities must have seemed imperiled.

This was one reason some Christians withdrew into smaller groups of like-minded persons where fellowship and the common life could more easily be pursued. In fact, the period of the early church’s greatest growth and urbanization (the third to sixth centuries) is also the period when the great monastic rules were composed.

In the Rule of Benedict, for instance, the common table was less a means of nutrition than it was a sort of Lord’s Supper. The monks broke their fast around midday by receiving Holy Communion from their spiritual father, the abbot, and then went straight to the common table. The Communion and meal form one unit.

Today the eucharistic meal continues to spill over its historical forms to pervade the lives of Christians, doing so every time we approach any table in faith. And the agape, or love feast, aspect of this supernal fellowship with God in Christ lives on wherever two or three gather in Christ’s name.

Dr. Aidan Kavanagh is professor of liturgics at Yale Divinity School and author of On Liturgical Theology (Pueblo, 1984).

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.

Although Justin does not mention hymns in his account, other sources provide ample reason to assume their presence at this time.

In the ancient world, the normal way to praise a deity was through melodic words or chant. Hymns, therefore, may have been present under Justin’s descriptions of Scripture reading or prayer.

In favor of including hymns with Justin’s mention of Scripture reading would be the later practice of interspersing psalms among the different Scripture readings—and the fact that most of early Christian singing was of the psalms or psalm-like compositions.

In favor of subsuming hymns under prayer would be the consideration that they had in common the elements of praise and address to God. The prayers of the synagogue (and the synagogue service was a model for early Christian worship) were recited in a chant, and Christians may have followed this practice. So the distinction we make between prayer (prose) and hymn (poetry or song) would not have been evident in Justin’s time.

Dr. Everett Ferguson is professor of Bible at Abilene Christian University and editor of Encyclopedia of Early Christianity (Gardland, 1990).

Copyright © 1993 by the author or Christianity Today/Christian History magazine.Click here for reprint information on Christian History.