If a Christian today had the ability to travel back in time and experience the rituals, sounds, and smells of a first-century Christian worship service, what might that experience reveal? What practices might they find familiar to their own contemporary worship context, and what rituals might seem strangely foreign? What ancient doctrinal motivations might resonate with the traveler? In At the Origins of Christian Worship, Larry Hurtado provides a relatively clear portrait of early Christian worship practices that not only informs readers about the past, but also attempts to build a sense of connection between the modern Church and the ancient one.
To begin his exploration of the early Church, Hurtado attempts to identify some broad characteristics of religious worship in general within the Greco-Roman first century. Perhaps the most remarkable feature of ancient religion was how ubiquitous and publicly noticeable it was. If our traveler managed to visit the streets of ancient Rome or Ephesus, they might be alarmed at just how common and visible reverence for pagan deities actually was. This widespread and very public presence of religion demanded a diverse array of religious practices that catered to the whims of just about every individual in society, especially among more urban areas. In short, religion in the first century was an integrated part of the whole of human existence. It permeated nearly every level of Greco-Roman culture, with a diverse range of beliefs and rituals to offer the individual, the family home and marketplace, and even the highest levels of civic political authority.
Against this reconstruction of ancient pagan religion Hurtado compares and contrasts common practices of ancient Jewish worship, and from here begins to build the case for the novelty and innovativeness of early Christian worship. Whereas the ancient world was replete with quotidian gods who served every conceivable human purpose, Judaic worship involved reverence for a singular deity who was first and foremost—in contrast to the physical idols worshiped among pagan traditions—an invisible, faceless God. In contrast to the colorful and fulfilling diversity of religious experience offered by Greek and Roman culture, the emergence of Christianity as a popular and growing religious tradition is quite puzzling. After all, the author argues, with such a rich buffet of religions to choose from, why would any worshiper of Jupiter or Artemis or Dionysus or Mars or even adherents to the ancient mystery cults make a willing and enthusiastic conversion to practice the exclusive worship of “one God, one Lord” offered by an obscure messianic Jewish sect? What made ancient Christianity appealing to non-Christians? The inexplicable genesis of the early Church revolves around this question, and it serves as the accelerant for Hurtado’s study.
In light of his discussion of the general religious context of the first century as well as his characterization of Second-Temple Judaism, Hurtado next attempts to outline the most prominent identifying marks of early Christian worship. According to Hurtado, the “common denominator” across all of ancient Christianity involved (1) the exclusive monotheistic worship of the Jewish god as well as (2) the exaltation and worship of Jesus of Nazareth as the Son of God. This tension, the author claims, was not a contradiction, but a radical innovation among staunch monotheists. Within these theological parameters, Hurtado explores a few common practices of the early Church that may have been appealing to non-Jewish and non-Christian first-century audiences. In particular, ancient Christian worship offered an intimate setting for fellowship and learning, with individuals frequently gathering for a common meal in the joyful recognition of their community’s eschatological importance—the belief that through their gatherings, the Reign of God was being effectively inaugurated in this world. These gatherings were also radically inclusive, so that women and children often found space to engage in public worship, as well. Furthermore, early adherents must have found something efficacious in the prayer, prophecy, and claims of miracle-working in the early Church. Otherwise, Hurtado argues, these claims would have been dismissed or gone ignored by the very people who were giving up their pantheons of gods to worship only God and Christ.
the archives near Emmaus 
Reblogged this on Sunday School on Steroids-The Seminary Experience.
Quote “What made ancient Christianity appealing to non-Christians?”
Jesus answered this a number of times, and in different ways. He said that His ‘lost sheep’ ([Jer 23:1-4; 31:10; 50:6,17]), the ones who had been scattered, would recognize the voice of their shepherd.
[John 10:3] “To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out.” and [John 10:27] “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”
This shepherd was doing what God had required of him (fulfilling):
[Eze 34:12] “As a shepherd seeks out his flock ([Matt 15:24]) when he is amongst his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I shall rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness.”
Presumably these sheep longed to hear their shepherd’s voice in their wanderings (just as the prodigal son longed for his fathers house), and so once they heard it – it resonated well with them.
That’s a nice, pat, theological answer, Andrew (and one that I don’t necessarily disagree with), but the question should be considered sociologically, as well. Many people today don’t go to church or consider themselves Christians because—for one reason or another—they do not feel comfortable or at home in Christian worship. I know a lot of folks in my little hometown in southern MO who would much rather spend their Sunday mornings in a bass boat or tree stand or hunting blind than in a church pew. “Why do I need to go to church when I can experience God in nature?” they say. So it was with the early church. “What do I care about the Christians? I have my personal shrine to Jupiter in my home,” “I can visit the Temple of Artemis any time,” etc. What Hurtado is getting at is that there must have been some kind of measurable sociological reasoning for abandoning pagan religions to convert to Christianity.
Joshua, true, and I agree – but isn’t that a slightly different question.
Isn’t that more “What makes ancient Christianity appealing to non-Christians today?” or “What made ancient Christianity appealing to non-Christians in a post-modern world?“.
Historically, Jesus spoke to why the faith would be taken up (and his answer echoes the prophetic pronouncements it would), however the question of why this still persists today (arguably) still an open question (don’t you agree?).
Of course, I’m not referring to those who would rather spend Sunday in a bass-boat but those who come to faith against all odds (I’ve been reading lately about amazing conversions …)
Seems to me the eyewitnesses must have played a huge role(still do with me).
Personally, I think when some were martyred along with James and Paul, this made most who gave the Gospel half a chance agree with it.
Learning about God some, you’d naturally come to love and appreciate Him relative to those flunky demanding gods of the ancient pagan world.
Thanks for your comment, Patrick. According to Hurtado, it was YHWH who was the demanding god—not the pagan deities worshiped by many in the ancient Greco-Roman world. For the most part, paganism allowed one to do just what was needed to appease the gods, but require very little else of the practitioner. Pouring out a libation or giving an offering to Jupiter might be all that was demanded of a person. Easy peasy. Early Christianity, however (according to Hurtado), required a rigid adherence to a monotheistic faith, at the center of which was Jesus of Nazareth—worshiped as messiah and “lord”—who demanded believers to “take up their crosses” over a lifetime of discipleship and rigorous spiritual discipline.