From the Feast of Agape to the Nicene Creed - Part 2

[Guest guest]

Dear All,

 

We concluded Part 1 with:

 

(p.5) " I am a historian of religion, and so, as I visited that church, I

wondered when and how being a Christian became virtually synonynous with

accepting a certain set of beliefs. From historical reading, I knew that

Christianity had survived brutal persecution and flourished for

generations--even centuries--'before' Christians formulated what they believed

into creeds. The origins of this transition from scattered groups to a unified

community have left few traces. Although the apostle Paul, about twenty years

after Jesus' death, stated " the gospel, " which, he says, " I too received " ( " that

Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures; that he was buried, and

that he was raised on the third day " ), [1] it may have been more than a hundred

years (p.6) later that some Christians, perhaps in Rome, attempted to

consolidate their group against the demands of a fellow Christian named Marcion,

whom they regarded as a false teacher, by introducing formal statements of

belief into worship. [2] But only in the 'fourth' century, after the Roman

emperor Constantine himself converted to the new faith--or at least

decriminalized it--did Christian bishops, at the emperor's command, convene in

the city of Nicaea, on the Turkish coast, to agree upon a common statement of

beliefs--the so-called Nicene Creed, which defines the faith for many Christians

to this day. "

 

Beyond Belief (The Secret Gospel of Thomas), Chapter 1, pg. 5-6

 

Notes:

 

[1] 1 Corinthians 15:3-4.

 

[2] So Adolf von Harnack reconstructed the origin of such statements; see

'History of Dogma', volume I, 5-6, and II, 1-2, in Neil Buchanan's translation

from the 1900 edition of 'Dogmengeschichte' (New York, 1961), volume I, 267-313,

and II, 1-29.

 

Here now is Part 2.

 

Enjoy,

 

violet

 

 

 

From the Feast of Agape to the Nicene Creed - Part 2

 

(p.6) Yet I know from my own encounters with people in that church, both

upstairs and down, believers, agnostics, and seekers--as well as people who

don't belong to any church--that what matters in religious experience involves

much more than what we believe (or what we do not believe). What 'is'

Christianity, and what is religion, I wondered, and why do so many of us still

find it compelling, whether or not we belong to a church, and despite

difficulties we may have with particular beliefs or practices? What is it about

Christian tradition that we love--and what is it that we 'cannot' love?

 

From the beginning, what attracted outsiders who walked into a gathering of

Christians, as I did on that February morning, was the presence of a group

joined by spiritual power into an extended family. Many must have come as I had,

in distress; and some came without money. In Rome, the sick who frequented the

temples of Asclepius, the Greek god of healing, expected to pay when they

consulted his priests about herbs, exercise, baths, and medicine. These priests

also arranged for visitors to spend nights sleeping in the temple precincts,

where the god was said to visit his suppliants in dreams. Similarly, (p.7) those

who sought to enter into the mysteries of the Egyptian goddess Isis, seeking her

protection and blessings in this life, and eternal life beyond the grave, were

charged considerable initiation fees and spent more to buy the ritual clothing,

offerings, and equipment.

 

Irenaeus, the leader of an important Christian group in provincial Gaul in the

second century, wrote that many newcomers came to Christian meeting places

hoping for miracles, and some found them: " We heal the sick by laying hands on

them, and drive out demons, " the destructive energies that cause mental

instability and emotional anguish. Christians took no money, yet Irenaeus

acknowledged no limits to what the spirit could do: " We even raise the dead,

many of whom are still alive among us, and completely healthy. " [3]

 

Even without a miracle, those in need could find immediate practical help almost

anywhere in the empire, whose great cities--Alexandria in Egypt, Antioch,

Carthage, and Rome itself--were then, as now, crowded with people from

throughout the known world. Inhabitants of the vast shantytowns that surrounded

these cities often tried to survive by begging, prostitution, and stealing. Yet

Tertullian, a Christian spokesman of the second century, writes that, unlike

members of other clubs and societies that collected dues and fees to pay for

feasts, members of the Christian " family " contributed money voluntarily to a

common fund to support orphans abandoned in the streets and garbage dumps.

Christian groups also brought food, medicines, and companionship to prisoners

forced to work in mines, banished to prison islands, or held in jail. Some

Christians even bought coffins and dug graves to bury the poor and criminals,

whose corpses otherwise would lie unburied beyond the city (p.8) walls. Like

Irenaeus, the African convert Tertullian emphasizes that among Christians

 

there is no buying and selling of any kind in what belongs to God. On a certain

day, each one, if he likes, puts in a small gift, but only if he wants to do so,

and only if he be able, for there is no compulsion; everything is voluntary. [4]

 

Such generosity, which ordinarily could be expected only from one's own family,

attracted crowds of newcomers to Christian groups, despite the risks. The

sociologist Rodney Stark notes that, shortly before Irenaeus wrote, a plague had

ravaged cities and towns throughout the Roman empire, from Asia Minor through

Italy and Gaul. [5] The usual response to someone suffering from inflamed skin

and pustules, whether a family member or not, was to run, since nearly everyone

infected died in agony. Some epidemiologists estimate that the plague killed a

third to a half of the imperial population. Doctors could not, of course, treat

the disease, and they too fled the deadly virus. Galen, the most famous

physician of his age, who attended the family of Emperor Marcus Aurelius,

survived what people later called Galen's plague by escaping to a country estate

until it was over.

 

But some Christians were convinced that God's power was with them to heal or

alleviate suffering. They shocked their pagan neighbors by staying to care for

the sick and dying, believing that, if they themselves should die, they had the

power to overcome death. Even Galen was impressed:

 

[For] the people called Christians...contempt of death is obvious to us every

day, and also their self-control in (p.9) sexual matters....They also include

people who, in self-discipline...in matters of food and drink, and in their keen

pursuit of justice, have attained a level not inferior to that of genuine

philosophers. [6]

 

Why did Christians act in such extraordinary ways? They would say that their

strength came from their encounter with divine power--but it was a power wholly

unlike that of the gods whose temples crowded the city streets, and whose images

adorned the theaters and public baths. Jupiter and Diana, Isis and Mithras,

required their worshipers to offer devotion, pouring out wine, making

sacrifices, and contributing money to the priests at their temples. Such gods

were understood to act, like human beings, out of self-interest. But Jews and

Christians believed that their God, who created humankind, actually 'loved' the

human race, and evoked love in return. Jesus succinctly summarized Jewish

teaching when he said, " You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart,

mind, and soul; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself. " [7] What God

requires is that human beings love one another and offer help--even, or

especially, to the neediest.

 

Such convictions became the practical basis of a radical new social structure.

Rodney Stark suggests that we read the following passage from Matthew's gospel

" as if for the very first time, " in order to feel the power of this new morality

as Jesus' early followers and their pagan neighbors must have felt it: [8]

 

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I

was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick

and you (p.10) visited me, I was in prison and you came to me....Truly, I say to

you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me.

[9]

 

Beyond Belief

(The Secret Gospel of Thomas)

Chapter 1, pg. 6-10

Elaine Pagels

Vintage Books, New York, U.S.A

ISBN: 0-375-70316-0

 

Notes:

 

[3] Irenaeus, 'Libros Quinque Adversus Haereses' 2.32.4, ed. W.W. Harvey

(Cambridge, 1851), hereafter cited as AH.

 

[4] Tertullian, 'Apology 39'.

 

[5] Rodney Stark, 'The Rise of Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History'

(Princeton, 1996), especially 73-94.

 

[6] From Galen's (lost) summary of Plato's 'Republic', preserved in Arabic and

translated by R. Walzer, 'Galen on Jews and Christians' (London, 1949), 15.

 

[7] Mark 12:29-31; see also Deuteronomy 6:4.

 

[8] Stark, 'Rise of Christianity', 86-87.

 

[9] Matthew 25:35-49.