When referring here to early Christians’ beliefs, I refer to the first century CE and the first two to three decades of the second century. For a number of reasons, this period in Christian history isn’t well known; nevertheless, I'll cover what has been discovered for certain, as well as some possibilities. I’ll also discuss how this period affected the subsequent history of Christianity.
Historians examining early Christianity have a problem, that being, the subsequent development of an “orthodox” doctrine, and a Church based upon it. Records of other doctrines were either suppressed or misrepresented in intervening centuries. Thus, learning about the actual start of Christianity, from those who actually lived when it was born, is impossible — such records have not survived.
The only historical documentation we have, then, are the New Testament, and the writings of the various Church Fathers. Collectively, they paint a somewhat confusing picture of Christianity’s origins. This is unfortunate, for Christianity went on to become a major force in world history, and it remains one, even today. Knowing the process of its origin would be invaluable, if we had direct evidence of it.
But we don’t have much in the way of direct evidence. We have only indirect, later evidence.
Another point to keep in mind is, most of these movements did not, early on, view themselves as belonging to a religion in its own right, distinct from others. Most of them were comprised entirely or chiefly of Jews. As such, they viewed themselves as Jews who followed the Jewish religion, even if in addition to that, they followed some “add-on” teachings and revised some existing ones. The oldest reference to “Christians” that we have, is in Acts of the Apostles, which was written in the late 1st century or, possibly, the early 2nd century (between c. 85 CE and 115 CE or so).
The New Testament represents only a small selection of documents from the first few centuries of Christianity. They’ve been edited and revised since then, having arrived at more or less their final forms around 1,000 CE. (Of course, recent discoveries have provided corrections to these.)
One of the things which complicates study are those revisions. Some documents which appear to have been written rather early, contain portions that appear to have been written later. Scholars can only conclude that they were edited sometime after they were originally composed; the later, edited portions (especially the portions which were added in) are known as “interpolations.” Far from being a uniquely Christian phenomenon, many classical works show interpolations, so this practice isn’t nearly as strange as it sounds.
The New Testament has three parts: the 4 gospels and Acts of the Apostles; a large number of letters or epistles; and Revelation, also known as the Apocalypse. There’s a generous amount of Church tradition concerning these documents. Most of them do not have a known author; the gospels, for example, are said to have been written by the apostles Matthew and John and the early Christian leaders Mark and Luke (who also wrote Acts); but this has turned out almost certainly not to be the case, as they were written between 70 and 150 CE.
Furthermore, they have features that belie their dating, such as the episode in Mark, where Jesus eulogizes the destroyed Temple in Jerusalem; the Romans razed it in 70 CE.
Also, while the Church Father Irenaeus claimed that Matthew was written first of all the gospels — hence it comes first in the New Testament — scholars have determined that Mark must have preceded Matthew and Luke, and in fact, Mark was used as a source by the authors of the latter two gospels. John was a later gospel, and was very likely written after the other three, and also likely in ignorance of them.
The oldest documents in the New Testament are actually some of the epistles by Paul, specifically, some of the ones he wrote to the churches (Galatians, etc.) In fact, we have no reason to suspect they were written by anyone other than a “Paul” who lived originally in Asia Minor and traveled often to Syria.
Even so, other Pauline epistles — particularly the “pastoral” letters to Timothy and Titus, as well as Colossians and Ephesians — are written with different language and are more accurately dated as late as the early 2nd century. Furthermore, even Romans and the two Corinthians epistles have some apparent interpolations. These interpolations, as well as the later “forged” epistles, mention doctrinal issues which were not known to have been a problem, during the first century.
Revelation is an enigmatic document, over which a lot of ink has been spilled, through the years. There are as many ways to interpret it, as there are people who've read it. During the process by which the Church decided which documents to accept as “canon,” Revelation was the most controversial contender. St. Jerome, who translated the Bible into the Latin “Vulgate,” did not translate it, himself. Instead, he appended to his own version of the New Testament an existing Latin translation of it that had been in his possession. He did this to satisfy those (including the late Pope Damasus I who'd commissioned his translation project) who thought Revelation should have been included. He did not think it worthy of canon, himself. His view almost won out. But, he’d included Revelation anyway, so it remained. Subsequent scholars are left to wrestle with it.
The first three gospels have many points in common, even if some of the events are rearranged or presented in a different way. Thus, they are known as the synoptic, or similar, gospels. This was known even in antiquity; during the canon process, each of the three was suggested as being “disposable,” due to the redundancy.
In the nineteenth century, scholars began examining the three gospels closely, to discover the reason why they matched each other. They concluded that all three were intertwined. Luke and Matthew each contained nearly all of the content of Mark. Also, Matthew and Luke contained a raft of content in common with each other, but which was not in Mark. They presumed there must have been a source in common, which they called Q (as in Quelle, the German word for “source,” German being the native language of most of these scholars). They determined the properties of Q, and with those in hand, looked to other writings of the Church Fathers to see if Q had inspired other documents, or if Q had somehow been incorporated into one.
They came up dry. There was nothing like what they had determined Q should be: mostly a collection of Jesus’s sayings, with only just enough narrative to stitch them all together.
Still, it was clear that these Matthew and Luke had been composed from a common source, that being a collection of Jesus’s sayings. There had to have been a Q, even if it didn’t survive (which is not unlikely, given that documents from 2,000 years ago are hard to come by).
Scholars such as Kloppenborg and Mack “distilled” the Q material out of the synoptic gospels, and came up with speculative versions of Q. Their version of Q, which had to have existed in order for the synoptic gospels to have arrived in their final forms, was incredibly different from any other early Christian writing. It was written not by people looking for a messiah or a Christ, but by people who followed an itinerant, apocalyptic Jewish teacher. They may also have been exposed to classical Cynicism since a small portion of Q’s content aligns with that.
The notion that followers of Jewish apocalypticism might have been aware of a Hellenic school of thought, was novel at the time Q was distilled. But it makes sense, to a degree, given that the three synoptic gospels had been written in κοινη (koiné, or “common”) Greek, and Q almost had to have been composed in Greek as well. Also, the oldest of Paul’s epistles show that early Christendom had both Jews and Gentiles (mainly, Greeks, either in an ethnic or cultural sense).
The creation of Christianity was, clearly, complex, with people from different traditions welding themselves together.
This is not the picture pained by Christian tradition, however! It insists that Christianity had originally been preached by Jesus and the Church subsequently started by his followers (i.e. the Apostles), who after the Pentecost, dispersed throughout the world to preach the “good news.”
It’s time to reconsider whether Christianity started at a single point and radiated outward. It’s time to admit that perspective may not be valid.
Further scholarly investigation revealed a number of distinct movements, during the early first century, which may have contributed to the growth of Christianity. In addition to the Hellenic-influenced apocalyptic Jews in the so-called “Q community,” another was the mystical “Christ movement” which was prominent in southeastern Anatolia, of which Paul was a member. Another was a movement based possibly in Syria, which centered on tales of miracles and may also have been a more or less mystical movement. Yet another was a Messianic movement in Judea, which either underwent major changes or was all but wiped out, by the Jewish revolt from 65 to 70 CE. Still another mystical Judaic movement may have originated in Alexandria and possibly expanded into western Palestine. Finally, there were the Essenes, an ascetic Judaic sect dating back to the early first century BCE, whose traditions might also have contributed to Christianity (likely indirectly, since Essenes themselves weren’t likely to forsake Judaism). Their ways are reflected in the fact that Jesus was not said ever to have been married, nor even entertained marriage, and suggested in Matthew that it was spiritually beneficial to be a eunuch (see Mt 19:12).
I've already gone over the Galilean Q movement and its nature. More needs to be said of the others.
The “Christ movement” of Cilicia (southeastern Anatolia) appears to have had as members not only Greeks and Syriacs, but Hellenized Jews. It may have been inspired by a number of other mystical movements, which had been in place for centuries, with godmen at their core. These godmen were usually half human, were outcasts, were harassed or suffered in some way, and either died and were resurrected, or they ascended to heaven to be with their divine fathers.
These godmen had many names, according to the cultures in which they were worshiped. In mainland Greece, that godman was Dionysus of the Eleusinian mysteries. In Phrygia he was Attis, in other Greek lands Herakles, in Syria he was Adonis, in Egypt he was Osiris or Serapis. Another similar cult had sprung up in Cilicia, named Mithras, with an old Iranian sun-god as its godman.
Whatever the details, these were all mystical movements, collectively known as the “mystery religions.” While their doctrines were secret, hence their name “mystery,” we do know that they taught that their stories of the mystical godman were metaphors for the human condition, and represented a pathway for believers to attain spiritual excellence and deliverance from the physical realm. These cults usually had varying degrees of initiation, denoting the degree to which the believer had been schooled in the faith, and a set of mystical rituals representative of certain spiritual truths. Among those rituals was a ritual bath and a ritual meal (corresponding to baptism and communion in Christian beliefs).
These cults were very old, even in the first century, and their origins dated back to the Isis/Osiris cult in Egypt, which became a distinct part of the priesthood by the New Kingdom era, and that, in turn, was likely influenced by the “sacred marriage” myths of Ishtar and Tammuz in Babylon. The Babylonians themselves appropriated these tales from the Sumerians, who worshiped them as Inanna and Dumuzi.
The Greek myth about Demeter, Persephone, and Hades vaguely echoes this earlier Babylonian/Sumerian legend and religious practice. So these mystery religions, of the godman variety, had a very old pedigree, indeed.
The “Christ movement” as revealed by Paul’s genuine letters, was a young one, likely influenced by other, similar cults, even if they do not appear to have constituted a full-blown “mystery religion.” Paul considered himself a Jew, and despite declaring that Gentiles who joined his movement did not have to follow Mosaic Law, he and other Jewish followers continued to do so. Even so, his movement was open to Gentiles and as far as its mystical content is concerned, shows clear Hellenic influence.
In fact, it’s likely this movement — and especially Paul’s missionary activity on its behalf — was an effort to bring Jews and Gentiles together into a single movement that both could recognize and be part of. In the century or two prior, as a result of the Jewish diaspora that followed Alexander the Great’s conquest of the Near East, Jewish synagogues faced the phenomenon of Gentiles schooled in Hellenic tradition viewing them as philosophical academies, not unlike their own. They referred to these Gentiles as “Godfearers” since they appeared to want to honor the Jewish deity YHWH and his religion. They were not embraced as fellow Jews, nor were they expected to follow Mosaic Law to the letter; they existed at the margin of the synagogues’ assemblies. This “Christ cult” may have been a way to give both Jews and Gentiles a place to assemble as brothers and sisters.
The “miracle movement” in Syria, is not well understood, yet. Precisely what they believed, isn’t entirely clear. We do know, however, that they collected tales of miracles being performed — healings, exorcisms, raising of the dead, etc. They may have attributed these miracles to one or more mythical beings, perhaps mystical godmen, or they may have attributed them to some actual person. They did not think this miracle-worker was actually living, in their own time, but they seem to have believed that he (or they) might return at any time.
Of note, there were other reported “miracle workers” in the classical world. Among the most famous was another 1st century figure, Apollonius of Tyana, who was said to have magically healed people, was aware of the moment a Roman emperor far away had been assassinated, and even raised people from the dead. He represents an example of a similar phenomenon.
The Messianic movement in Judea was fairly straightforward. It was not uncommon for a number of Jews to band together under the standard of someone whom they presumed to be the Messiah. The one for which we have the best record is Judas of Galilee. These little movements generally did not last long, though, as they tended to make trouble for the authorities, and were suppressed; the would-be messiahs were all generally killed or imprisoned, and their followers disbanded. Also, some of these claimed messiahs’ followings weren’t necessarily religiously inspired, but had political motivations.
It seems, though, that one such movement did not entirely disband. Perhaps they lost their messiah figure, but presumed that another would soon take his place. Over time, their focus moved away from a coming messiah, to a deeper examination of Judaic thought. Even so, they did keep, in the back of their minds, as it were, the idea that the messiah would soon come.
Alexandria had had a rather large Jewish enclave, ever since its founding, when Alexander specifically recruited Jewish scholars to come to the city he was building. Over the next few centuries, these Jews had become increasingly Hellenized — Alexandria, after all, had become the “seat” of Hellenistic culture — and they attempted to mix Judaic thought with Hellenistic mysticism. The writings of Philo, a Jew of Alexandria, show this effort.
Finally, there are the Essenes. While we now know a good deal about them, from the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls, it’s still not clear what role they may have played, if any, in the growth of Christianity. They were undoubtedly Jews, deeply committed to Jewish Law and traditions, who’d adopt a stern ascetic lifestyle. They lived in the hinterland of Judea, away from others, and kept to themselves as much as possible. Their ascetic ways aren’t easily understood, since nothing in Judaism itself called for that, but in the Greco-Roman world, there were many such movements, and though they were usually small, their ways sometimes weren’t without precedent.
Before the end of the first century, however, the Essenes had all but vanished. They seem to have suffered the same fate as other ascetic, celibate movements (e.g. the Shakers in the United States), which do not have children, and find it difficult to recruit new members to replace those who grow old — they simply cannot last. The Roman-Jewish War certainly couldn’t have helped them, but they also lived in remote Qumran and may not have been involved in it. Still, even by that point, they were already dying out.
To be clear, the varied Christian movements didn’t ever really become “one!” To say that Christianity ever became “unified” is erroneous. There has never been a time in Christian history when someone, somewhere wasn’t teaching some variant doctrine.
What is likely, which is seen by the development of the synoptic gospels, is that three of these communities — those of Galilee, Cilicia, and Syria — rather rapidly welded themselves together. The mysticism of the Cilicians was de-emphasized, as was the Galilean Cynicism, while the miracle stories were kept, and integrated into the gospels. Why these three unified, is still unclear. They may have seen a great deal of mutual overlap, and simply mistook each other for variants of the same movement; or, more likely, one or two were either repressed, or put under some other sort of pressure, and forced to shelter with another.
The warring going on in Judea in the late 60’s — while it may not have affected the Galileans directly — certainly had had an indirect effect. The destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem played a part in the gospel of Mark, which was probably written by the Syriacs. It is possible that Jews fleeing the war came in large numbers to Galilee and Syria (among other regions).
At any rate, once these three started to blend, the messianic movement in Judea fell in line with them, soon after. Probably this, again, was due to the Jewish revolt. The Messianists may have suffered a setback, and saw in the merging Galilean/Syriac/Cilician movement, a kindred belief system.
These four movements account for a majority of the material in the New Testament. The gospel and epistles of John (not written by the apostle John, of course, as he'd have been a hundred years old when they were penned!), as well as the epistles of Jude and James, came from the Judean movement.
Despite the merger, things were not going easy. Tensions arose, especially where the Jews in the movement were concerned. In the Cilician movement, and in the Judean, there had already been an ongoing debate concerning the Judaic Law. Must believers still be circumcised and otherwise obey the Law? Or did the new movement free them from having to obey it?
Decades before the “mergers” began, Paul had taught the Law was obsolete, and it appears that his view won out. In all likelihood, this is due to the fact that the Christian movement, such as it was, was seen by its own members as primarily a Hellenistic one, not a Judaic one, even if it had a presumed Jewish founder and elements of Judaic tradition.
So far, I've only explained which movements welded together, and when, and what may have been their motivation for doing so. Despite this, it’s rather hard to imagine how adherents of one school of thought, could simply abandon it in favor of another. Such a thing is highly unusual. Changes in beliefs take place at an individual level, not en masse, and therefore take some time.
The mechanism for the merging of these communities, probably lies in their common point of being based on a Jewish teacher named Jesus. Even if the apocalyptic-but-Hellenistic-inspired Galilean Q movement believed different things about that founder than, say, members of the mystical Cilician Christ-cult, that one point served as the fulcrum of the lever that pressed them all together.
This leaves the Alexandrian community and the Essenes. It’s not likely the Essenes ever integrated into Christianity — they were almost fanatically strict adherents to Mosaic Law and Hebrew tradition. But we have little information about what happened to them, other than they had disappeared some time before the end of the 1st century. We can only suppose that something of their tradition somehow wound up in the movement, given the documentary evidence. Whether this is because some Essenes became part of Christianity, or if one or more movements had been inspired by them to some degree, is a matter of speculation.
The mystical Jews of Alexandria, being (generally) highly educated and well-connected to events in the eastern Empire, were probably aware of the movements which had begun to merge by the end of the first century. They may have appropriated some of those ideas into their own mystical movement, and they may have done the same with Essene concepts. (Or, they may have actually taken in some Essenes.)
Whatever their inspiration, by the early second century, there was a well-defined, mystically-oriented version of Christianity, which seems to have been based in Alexandria. It became a rather open movement, non-exclusive (meaning, it accepted believers from other faiths), and quite esoteric in nature. Basilidean and Valentinian Gnosticism both were born from the Christianity of Alexandria around the end of the 1st century. While both those sects held some appeal for Christians of other sorts, who converted to them — and no doubt there may also have been some conversions in the opposite direction — these, and the tradition they emerged from, appear not have had much interchange with the other main body of Christendom.
Given that Alexandria was home to some very orthodox and literalist Christians before the end of the 2nd century, it’s unlikely that all of the Christians of that region went down the mystical road of Gnostic Christianity behind the likes of Basilides and Valentinus. At least some of them veered into the same territory as the Christians of the Levant and Syria. Alexandrian Christendom remained something of a “split camp” for centuries, harboring both orthodox and heretical movements, well into the 6th century CE.
This leaves us in the first couple of decades of the second century, with two distinct Christian movements. It’s not clear precisely when they aware of each other. The mystical-Alexandrian movement almost certainly knew of the Syrian-Judean-literalist movement, but probably considered it a novelty, or of limited appeal — in spite of the fact that they used some of its concepts and ideas!
The two began to overlap by, say, 120 CE. At first, there was little contention. The two sets of believers recognized each other as Christians but apparently didn’t interact much, at least initially. Over time, though, as each learned more about the other, each became disappointed in the other. The Alexandrian movement considered the Syrian movement to be primitive, simplistic, and too much in thrall to old Hebrew notions; the Syrian movement saw the Alexandrians as whimsical, whose faith in God was weak, and who spoke in riddles, rather than believing in a real God who really lived on earth.
The consequences, of course, are well-known by now. The Alexandrian movement became known as Gnosticism, from the Greek ???s?? or gnosis, “to know, knowledge,” for their belief in a form of esoteric knowledge of the divine. The Syrian movement went on to become “orthodox” Christianity, which ruthlessly repressed Gnosticism, pronouncing it a “heresy” (from the Greek ?a??es?? or hairesis, “to declare, to claim, to choose” meaning a declaration or choice of a “contrary” doctrine).
Ironically, the orthodox Christians were as vehemently opposed to Gnosticism, as the “pagan” Greco-Romans had been opposed to Christianity as a whole. They employed many of the same methods as the Romans had, in persecuting their “enemies.” They went to great lengths to destroy anything and everything associated with Gnosticism. When they were able to, they burned libraries, and altered early Christian documents so as to remove references to Gnostic ideas, or to make them appear anti-Gnostic. They also quoted Gnostic documents in ways that made them appear bizarre or otherwise unattractive.
In the central and western Empire, at least, some of the “literalist” Christians also tried to make it appear that the “seat” or center of the Church had moved to Rome at an early date, even though there is little evidence there were many Christians in Rome during the first century. If there were any, they were probably members of the initial Cilician “Christ movement” who’d had traveled there. There couldn’t have been many of them.
What’s more, for eastern Christendom, Rome never did become primary, the “hub” of Christianity. During the Byzantine Empire, for them, the bishop of Constantinople (usually appointed or ratified by emperors) was the first among equals within the overall group of patriarchs.
The evidence is very clear that, during the first century and the first half of the second, the two main Christian centers were Antioch, in Syria (between the Syrian population centers around Damascus and the Cilician province), and Alexandria. Later claims that Rome or Jerusalem (the putative founding-place of Christianity) were important early centers of Christianity, are later interpolations.
One issue which appears to refute this “multiple source” theory of Christian origins, is the name of Jesus. The initial Syrian “miracle movement,” the Galilean Q community, the Alexandrian mystics, and others, all looked to a man named Jesus as a teacher or messiah.
How could so many independent movements, all begun independent of each other, have somehow hit upon the same name? It seems beyond belief to say it’s just a coincidence.
Well, it’s not a coincidence! It’s a consequence of Judaic scripture (the Old Testament). The name of Jesus is the Hellenized version of Joshua, who had been the successor of Moses. For centuries there had been Jewish scholars who suggested the Messiah would be named Joshua/Jesus. The Joshua of the Old Testament was thought to presage the career of the Messiah: Just as Joshua succeeded Moses and led his people into the Promised Land, so the Messiah would come, and lead the Jews into a new phase of existence, into a post-Mosaic era.
Some of the would-be Messiahs who had caused so much political turmoil in Judea, had taken the name Joshua/Jesus. In any event, it’s not hard to explain how all these movements could have wound up honoring a figure named “Jesus.” In fact, it would be hard to understand how this couldn’t be the case!
The Roman and eastern orthodox Churches grew out of the orthodox Christian movement, once Gnosticism waned. In the west, a rigid hierarchy was built, with the Bishop of Rome, the Pope, at the top, controlling doctrine. In the east, a similar rigid hierarchy also emerged, the Bishop of Constantinople becoming primary. But other patriarchs retained independence (and in the view of the Eastern Church, one of them was Rome). Above them, while the Byzantine Empire lasted, were the emperors, who in times when their regime was stable, appointed the various patriarchs and metropolitans.
Both these theaters of Christendom grew into vast juggernauts, however, and as is the nature of large bloated bureaucracies that outlast their usefulness, these Churches grew corrupt. Attempts were made to eliminate the corruption, but these only had limited effect. The scale of corruption may have been somewhat less in the Eastern Church, owing to the greater independence of its bishops, metropolitans, and patriarchs, as well as the fact that many of them lived and worked within Muslim-controlled regions where they were a minority, but it was found there, as well.
In the 11th century, the entire Eastern Church broke away entirely from Rome, and eventually drifted into a group of national Orthodox Churches. In the 16th century, of course, the Reformation got underway, and the Western Church was never the same again.
Today, Christianity is a bewildering array of Catholic and Orthodox Churches and Protestant denominations, each of which claims to be the “real” Christianity, and that all the rest are “in error.” Non-Christians often have a hard time figuring out the doctrinal differences between all these churches, or even the reason why they’re so divided in the first place.
In any event, while the Reformation utterly fragmented western Christianity into many “splinters,” as I stated at the outset, there never was a time when the Church was unified under a single banner. Even in the heyday of the Roman Church, from about the 8th century to the 11th, the “unity” of the Church was only an illusion. Churches in the east were effectively on their own, anyway; the Great (or Eastern) Schism of the 11th century, merely formalized a situation that had long been in effect already. Also, Rome was never a party to purely eastern controversies such as monophysitism or iconoclasm; they were resolved entirely without the Pope’s assistance.
Furthermore, some Churches never fell in with the rest. For example, the Armenian Church never came under the jurisdiction of Rome, or even of eastern Orthodoxy. It remains an independent Church, with its own hierarchy and theology, headed by the Katholikos (rather than a Pope or Patriarch). The same is true of the Ethiopian Orthodox Church, which is actually the largest Orthodox church in the world, in terms of numbers of adherents. It took its own path, long ago.
Finally, even within the “unified” Roman Church, there were dissenters. The Cluniac monks of the Middle Ages disagreed with Church policy, so they undertook to reform the Church as they saw fit. The mendicant movement was an attempt to reform the Roman Church, especially its monastic orders. The list goes on and on.
It is appropriate, then, and entirely understandable, that we find Christianity had a number of disparate sources. It explains the apparent inconsistencies in the historical record, and explains the doctrinal debates that rage even to this day (in which each side can find a scriptural basis for its claims).
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