Robert Louis Wilken, The First Thousand Years: A Global History of Christianity

Robert Louis Wilken, The First Thousand Years: A Global History of Christianity (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 2012), ISBN 9780300118841, (hc) $35.00.

Robert Wilken’s survey of the first thousand years of Christianity is a worthwhile read for anyone interested in the field. Its greatest value and greatest challenge is that this survey beginning with the life of Christ and ending just before the great schism is only 359 pages. Wilken’s characteristic style of being both concise yet clear in exposition is the books greatest strength and its greatest weakness. This book is valuable to review for two reasons. The first is that it provides an illustration of the challenge of writing a survey of Christianity (the genre of surveys of church history is a much larger project I am studying) and how Wilken plays with the genre to do something different. The second is the very good data in the book that Wilken brings about and creates for an accessible and interesting read for students and laymen (scholars would also find this interesting, but due to some of the constraints discussed below, would find it too brief to be complete). Therefore, this review will stray from my usual format of showing the merits and then the critiques of the book. This book’s merits and critiques are really two sides of the same coin. Therefore, this review will first illustrate the strength and weakness of Wilken’s writing style by analyzing what is in my view his best and worst chapters. Then, a discussion will move into the genre of church history surveys and show how he falls into the problem of modern surveys of church histories and how he attempts to solve them (in some ways successfully and in other ways not so successfully). 

To illustrate how this book was written, an example can be taken from the first chapter. To begin the book, he wants to describe Jesus as portrayed in the Gospels (not only as a beginning ground of any survey of later Christianity but also due to his view that all theology is exegetical and therefore the Bible is quite relevant. In writing this chapter, he has all of 11 pages to describe the entire message, goal, and purposes of the four gospels. This is of course, ridiculous. To accomplish the task, rather than illustrating the gospels, he summarizes them to the point that the end of the chapter he can talk about the single character of the gospels.[1] This summary position is done in every chapter without long quotations of primary sources to show what the sources suggest. To consider the difference of this approach to other academic writing, it might be helpful to consider two of Wilken’s other very good books. The Christians as the Romans Saw Them goes to significant lengths to display what Romans felt about Christians. It even goes to the extreme of reconstructing the vast majority of Celsus’s argument against the Christians and presenting it for the reader.[2] In a mediating position to this is Wilken’s Spirit of Early Christian Thought where the long quotations have been mostly abandoned to save space, but the book is filled with example after example of quotations being put together to create a narrative.[3] The First Thousand Years book, however, to save even more space has cut down on even direct quotation in exchange for summary. Wilken’s summaries are often well done, but it is a distinct style that has distinct advantages and disadvantages. The greatest advantage is that when the texts can be summarized well, it allows him to move into higher order thinking quickly and he can do rather interesting things to gain interesting conclusions. When it is not done well, the summaries might not suffice and any higher order thinking is abandoned because a reader struggles to understand the summary.

To illustrate the strength of this format, consider his discussion of Ignatius of Antioch.  In the chapter, he only cites Ignatius 10 times. Of those ten, only one is longer than three lines. Instead of quoting large portions of Ignatius, he summarizes Ignatius enough to create an argument about the innovation that Ignatius represents – the spiritual unity of a variety of independent bodies as a single body of believers. He points out that Ignatius’s letters are a window into the inner-life of the church after the death of the apostles.[4] Ignatius not only considers a new type of church unity through the use of the bishop – but the transition is due to the lack of itinerate missionaries who stopped by these variety of places (such as Paul) to one where each church had their own identity, yet still found identity in the larger collective.[5] This type of simultaneous independent and communal identity is expressed through the development of a worship service and the practice of common sacraments – baptism and the Eucharist.[6] The usual discussion had about Ignatius – the role of the bishop (and subsequent church order) is quickly and efficiently discussed.[7] Here, Wilken has made a fascinating argument using Ignatius less as “the important development which must be illustrated” as much as he has described Ignatius enough in order to make a fascinating point about the nature of second century Christianity. This depiction is more profound than most depictions of Ignatius’s letters which usually describe a basic idea of the bishop, authority, and shift in thinking. Here, Wilken uses this in a way that makes the whole of Ignatius far greater than the sum of his parts.

In contrast to the way it works so well for Ignatius, one might consider his chapter on the Christological controversies at the councils of Ephesus and Chalcedon (yes, indeed, it is only one chapter) that he entitles, “The Great Controversy over Christ.” First, this period in church history is very confusing. The discussion between Cyril, Nestorius, Eutyches, Dioscorus, Leo, the Tall Brothers, John, and even Shenoute shifts wildly over precise language. It is in fact confusing enough that part of the conflict was over a translation problem – the terms “ousia” and “physis” did not translate well into Syriac and it is quite probable that Nestorius and Cyril did not disagree as much as they thought they did. In essence, it is a confusing enough period, that even during the conflict they were confused. However, it is a watershed moment for the rest of Christianity with monophysites and diphysites continuing to disagree for centuries to come. Therefore, it is absolutely necessary that this be a clear chapter that explains what is happening. Unfortunately, Wilken provides it only 10 pages and has the thankless task of trying to explain a doctrine in such a short space that will be referred to in nearly every chapter of the text after this one. However, in so doing, his “summarization” approach fails because the summary is too confusing to be understood and thus the subsequent arguments he presents based upon that summary get incredibly confused. For example, he argues that part of the issue was the political struggle the Bishop of Alexandria had with the Episcopal see of Constantinople exerting new influence. However, he notes that the primary debate between them was more theological than it was political.[8] After stating this – that it was not a political goal, the “argument” of the chapter, if there is one, is the initial triumph of the authority of Alexandria followed by the subsequent victory of Constantinople in its own political strength.[9] Therefore, precisely what he states is not the point, is what he suggests was the result (granted in a fascinating way by citing the fathers and other innovation in authority).[10] Further, his summary style gets compromised from the first line when he makes a blatant value judgment of Nestorius as being foolish: “Eloquence without wisdom is hazardous…Though fluent of speech, [Nestorius] lacked prudence and soon found himself at odds with the imperial family and monks in the city. The misstep that sparked trouble…”[11] One can observe that he seems to see Nestorius as making a poor judgment. It might be true he made one as far as political savvy, but the way he presents what comes next has nothing to do with politics and everything to do with the doctrine of the theotokos. Therefore, the summaries that he presents are already compromised. This then gets egregiously confusing with new people introduced with new ideas and new ecclesiastical councils. This causes confusion and the clipped style of Wilken has obfuscated the data.

The probably difference between these two chapters is the simplicity of the content. In the discussion of Ignatius, he describes the theology of Ignatius relatively quickly and in a straightforward manner. The only other factor he discusses is evidence of Ignatius’s action in the New Testament. This works well because the point he wants to make about Ignatius’s role as a case study function very well with relatively brief discussion of Ignatius the man. The same cannot be said of the Christological controversies of the fifth century. When there are two church councils, at least 4 principle players, the addition of Rome for the first time attempting to get involved, the concept of an ecclesiastical council without the oversight of an emperor, and the subsequent failed councils which caused more harm than good, the content is simply too diverse to be quickly summarized and then leading to a single point. There is in fact no single one point that ought to be learned about the Christological controversies in the fifth century – there are at least half a dozen.

These analyses of these paragraphs are meant to show how and when the approach works and when it struggles. I am happy to admit that Wilken presents one of the best discussion of Ignatius (or the early second century for that matter) that I have seen in any survey textbook of Christian history. The chapter on the Christological controversies is not the worst (as this period of history is notorious for being difficult), but it is fair to say it is below average. A more standard approach would have been several chapters and would have described each figure deliberately and not tried to make such aggressive claims. It would not have had as many potential positive results, but it would have had more actual positive results.

Rather than looking at particular aspects of this survey of the history of Christianity as far as technical details which are a bit unfair (of course it won’t be as precise as it should be – it is a survey), here the conversation will turn to the challenge of what a survey is and how it functions – thereby Wilken’s book can be fairly criticized or praised within its own construct.

Genre of a Survey of Church History

The problem with a study of the genre of church history surveys is that it is not officially a genre. One will not find a course in “textbook surveys” in any literature conference. Rather, these are built as heuristic devices for different ends. In the English speaking world, church histories are all dependent (either in reproducing or opposing) on Philip Schaff’s 10 volume History of the Christian Church originally published in 1858. This history, following Hegelian philosophy of History, was interested in how Christianity developed (in a positive way) from the early origins to the height of understanding (of course with this ending in Schaff’s own day). It has a clear sense of progress behind it and it goes even farther by suggesting that God was behind the heresies and other events so that the church could “discover” what was already there all along – namely the divine truth. In this way, it is fair to judge Schaff’s interpretative method as a basic Heilsgeschichte (which is usually reserved for the interpretation of history in the Old Testament) to the church. Adolf von Harnack’s influential work did not use this idea of Heilsgeschichte, but it did employ a development of doctrine in a rather similar light. Heresies were the counterpoint to the single development of doctrine that led them to the next step. It was a very linear model which held the idea that “orthodoxy” was a continuous channel that responded to heresy along the way. Walter Bauer’s influential Orthodoxy and Heresy was a helpful corrective in the sequence of heresy or orthodoxy. Rather than the idea found in figures such as Schaff that there was an orthodoxy that was then corrupted by these heresies, Bauer observed that often the “heresy” came first and it was not known as heresy until well after the fact (and was happy to admit the power dynamic and fluidity of what was orthodox and heretical – the orthodox is always that which is in the interest of the stronger party). However, Bauer did not fundamentally challenge the idea of a linear history developed in a Hegelian fashion.

Current historians appreciate the contributions of this earlier generation of scholarship, but recognize that such a linear view of orthodoxy is simply inaccurate. The interest in the social world has shown a tremendous amount of diversity – not only in the heretical groups – as Bauer pointed out, but also in the orthodox groups. It is now the proper trope that there really was not a single orthodoxy (and more and more scholars are disgusted by the idea of a “proto-orthodoxy” as it implies it was a single group who had been there the whole time). There were not only a variety of groups competing with each other, but there were even more unaware of each other as competing groups implies that the groups were trying to “one up” the other. In most cases, the groups were so far from one another that communication was limited at best. A good example of this from my own research is that the larger people in Coptic Egypt were not overly concerned with the Christological controversies in Alexandria and went about their Christian lives centered around monastic ideals (in fact, according to David Brakke, it was Athanasius’s recognition of this gap and his ability to bring in the monastic movement into his theology which was his true genius).[12]

Scholarship for the most part, does not have a problem with this and one won’t find advanced studies on aspects of Christianity depending upon the old model of development of doctrine (though there are always exceptions as lazy scholarship finds the development of doctrine easier to deal with). The problem, however, is in church history textbooks. When one wants an overview of Christianity (a bit of a ridiculous venture in its own right), there is one central issue – there is no need to repeat where people agree with each other. Difference is highlighted in all surveys. The question then is different from what. Some books have attempted a type of “diversity collection” which simply has a collection of essays all independent of one another, because after all, that is what truly happened in the early church. A good example of this motif is found in The Cambridge History of Christianity volume 1 edited by Margaret Mitchell and Frances M. Young. This book has 32 chapters over 590 pages and over 100 pages of bibliography and indices. However, the chapters (as they are written by varieties of experts) do not directly relate with one another and reading it through cover-to-cover is a tiring enterprise. The book becomes more of an “advanced reference tool” rather than a survey for heuristic reasons.

The opposite end of the spectrum is those books that simply replicate the progress idea of Schaff without admitting it. While putting the quotation marks around orthodox, they tend to discuss all of the same issues that were discussed by Schaff in the same manner (heresy leading to a new idea) such as can be found in Justo L. Gonzalez’s The Story of Christianity (2 vols.). While being far more entertaining than Mitchell and Young’s work through the establishment of a master narrative which students can easily follow, the challenge lies in its relatively poor scholarship. It only provides discussion about types of Christianity that disagree with one another leading to the one type that “won out.”

Wilken’s book tries to bridge these two extremes ends. On the one hand, he does go through a type of development of doctrine for the first 20 chapters of the book. In fact when discussing Augustine, he explains his lack of discussing Augustine’s Manichaean debates because, “Augustine’s writing against them are important for understanding the development of his thinking, but for the history of Christian doctrine Augustine’s treatises and letters on the Donatists and the Pelagians are more consequential.”[13] He clearly is interested in the master narrative here about the development of doctrine. In that master narrative, he seems to focus on the red thread of authority and how it is meted out throughout the narrative (such as through monks, bishops, emperors, popes, etc.).

While Wilken seems to be presenting this master narrative, he then takes almost half of the book to present alternate Christianities as he is trying to present a global history. He has chapters on “Architecture and Art,” “Music and Worship,” “Egypt and Copts; Nubia,” “Syrac-Speaking Christians,” “Ethiopia,” “Armenia and Georgia,” “Central Asia, China, and India,” “Egypt and North Africa,” “Spain,” “the Slavs” and “Britain.” These chapters are basically asides and then he moves back to the master narrative for the rise and conflict with Islam. It creates an odd compromise between the extremes. These chapters do not have a single red thread that go through them (and often do not have any central argument of any kind), instead they tend to be just general descriptions reminding the reader that the master narrative is not the only thing in play.

My goal in this conversation is not to lampoon Wilken for trying to manage this compromised position – given the constraints of a general history of Christianity, he is doing what has probably been heuristically successful. The old “master narrative” technique is appealing to students. It is easier to remember a development of one key group rather than near chaos as implied (but not argued) by a works such as Mitchell and Young.

Wilken’s innovation is in the compromise – he realizes the value of a master narrative while reminding students that this is not everything that there is. This works very well during the Islamic invasions. He begins with the master narrative of Islam and what that means for both the Byzantine empire and Christianity. However, he then considers different regions and how those regions dealt with the issue, which regions acculturated to the Muslim rule and which maintained their Christianity and which did not. It is a helpful discussion that is well placed in the structure of the book (after the discussion of the invasion, then the discussion of regions is discussed to tell students that this is not the whole story). His compromise does not succeed as well, however, for the period before this. For 20 chapters he goes through the master narrative for the development of doctrine and then he circles back to discuss Syria, the far East, the North, etc. The problem is that in those discussions, one has to begin (as Wilken does) when those narratives began – often rather early – with Syria, for instance, there is no reason to think it is any later than 200 C.E. (and possibly earlier). This is difficult to imagine when one just finished a chapter about the council of Chalcedon.

There are some other cosmetic issues with the book which are not serious but do frustrate a reader. It is likely that these were decisions made at the publishing house and Wilken is not to blame. First, there are beautiful plates of Christian art in the center of the book. However, in the narrative when those images are discussed, there is no reference that the image is in the book. As such, most readers will attempt to find the image somewhere else (such as I did online) not realizing that they had it in front of them the whole time. Second, the lack of “for further reading” is a problem for a survey of Christian history. A survey is to bring into the forefront a concept that then can be explored more deeply. By not presenting a very helpful bibliography for each chapter (he does have a general one at the end of the book but it is unwieldy), this is much harder for the reader. 

As a whole Wilken’s book, while being idiosyncratic to his style of writing, is a very valuable resource. It would be an excellent textbook to use alongside a collection of primary texts (such as might be found by the Bettenson and Mauer collection of primary sources). On its own, it is a bit too clipped to be sufficient for the completely unaware, but to a general student who knows a little about the church history, the book is a perfect fit. It is accessible enough that anyone (either a layperson in a church or an undergraduate student) can understand it and keep from being too discouraged by thousands of pages of texts.

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[1] Wilken, The First Thousand Years, 9.

[2] Wilken, The Christians as the Romans Saw Them, 2^nd Ed. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003) 94-125.

[3] Wilken, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003).

[4] The First Thousand Years, 29.

[5] Ibid., 31.

[6] Ibid., 34.

[7] Ibid., 32.

[8] Ibid., 197.

[9] Ibid., 204.

[10] Ibid., 202.

[11] Ibid., 195.

[12] Brakke, Athanasius and the Politics of Asceticism.

[13] Wilken, The First Thousand Years, 186.

Review of N.T. Wright, How God Became King

N.T. Wright, How God Became King: The Forgotten Story of the Gospels, New York: HarperOne, 2012.

N.T. Wright’s recent book on the nature of the message of the Gospels that has been ignored by both scholarly and ecclesiastical circles has some merit. It presents an argument which ecclesiastical leaders ought to hear. However, in trying to present the “gospel” of the gospels universally, Wright presents here a case study in the problem of trying to exegetically create systematic theology. The New Testament is not systematic theology (in fact it is 27 separate books) and most modern attempts to make it systematic do so by appealing to the historical Jesus – while the books might be diverse, there was only one historical Christ and therefore there is one consistent message. To his credit, N.T. Wright has done that very thing in his very popular three volume set: The New Testament and the People of God, Jesus and the Victory of God, and The Resurrection of the Son of God. However, in this book, Wright explicitly argues that this argument rests upon the gospels rather than the historical Jesus. While explicitly this is accurate, the concept depends upon the historical Jesus – it just does not admit it.

Brief Summary of the Work

Wright begins his book with an apologia to the church – take the gospels seriously. He argues that protestant denominations are so focused on Pauline theology that the gospels are used as merely proof texts to present that theology. More specifically, he argues that it is not even the whole of Paul’s theology that Protestants preach, but merely the forensic justification (or judiciary model) in Romans 2-4. This model is the one in which humans have failed to follow God’s law and are therefore condemned to death. In order for these sins to be paid, then Jesus vicariously atones for those sins and dies on the cross to pay the penalty for others’ sins. Wright argues that this model is the theology preached in churches (and he admits is the one usually presented in the creeds). The observation he makes is that while Jesus’ birth and death are discussed, his life is usually skipped (except for cute little object lessons to explain Pauline theology).

He then turns his critique from the ecclesiastical world to the scholarly. He argues that scholars have attempted to dissect the Bible so that the whole of the message of the gospels is lost due to the atomizing effect of modern criticism. He does not quite condemn all scholarly analysis as unhelpful, but he does argue that the focus on small units of texts obfuscates the larger picture. He sees this as a result of the agendas of a historical critical agenda which was championed in the enlightenment who bring the premise that the whole of the gospels cannot be accurate.

Wright’s argument is that the heart of the gospels’ message (and he does think of all four gospels having one key message) is for Jesus to establish himself as a king in the sense of the Jewish Messiah. He notes that nearly all expectation of the messiah is a kingly role and that the gospels are both aware of that fact and they present Jesus as accomplishing this feat (though admittedly in a way no one expected). He argues that Jesus did establish the kingdom of God on earth (challenging the modern attitude about God’s reign as being something otherworldly) which begins in the present (rather than waiting on a future ideal) and will be completed in a new way at the end of days. Further, he argues that a major element of this message is political – Jesus was presenting a challenge to the Roman Empire as establishing a new kingdom (in short presenting that there really was a reason for the Romans to crucify him). The revolution was not the type of political revolution one might have expected, but it was very political nonetheless (which the gospels highlight).

Finally, Wright argues that there is nothing inherently wrong with creedal Christianity that does not mention this aspect of Jesus’ life. Wright merely argues that the creeds should not be the only aspect of the church’s view of Jesus. He argues that the creeds are very helpful in how the kingdom of God is established cosmically (as well as personally). He believes that the emphasis on taking the gospels seriously provides a rich resource for spirituality in the modern world which avoids the pitfalls of ecclesiastical laziness and scholarly skepticism.

Merits of the Book

Large portions of this book have much merit. First, I (as one can see very easily if one looks at my page on ministry related topics)[1] have argued that the church ignores major portions of scripture in order to read everything in light of their own theology (largely based on Luther’s reading of Romans 2-4). Here Wright and I are in complete agreement. The gospels are not usually taken very seriously on their own – they are used as object lessons for Pauline theology. I would go one step farther than Wright in suggesting that the odd nature of many churches is that they rarely preach on Paul’s letters, instead, they use the object lessons of miracles and parables to present that same idea.[2] This fundamental reason for Wright’s book is valid and very useful.

Second, his argument that the goal of the gospels’ presentation of the life of Jesus is to present him as establishing the kingdom of God in the context of Israel’s expectations of Messiah is very valid for the synoptic gospels. The main goal of the synoptic gospels is the kingdom of God. Every parable is describing the kingdom, the actions of Jesus are interpreted as fulfillment of prophecy concerning Messiah in Matthew, Jesus is the eschatological hero in the Gospel of Mark, and Jesus is the organizer of the new movement by being the exemplar model of the martyr to create a new community of God’s people (what Wright calls “God’s Renewed People”) in the Gospel of Luke/Book of Acts. This is the fundamental message that cannot be simply ignored as it often is.

Further, Wright is correct in arguing that the political aspect of the kingdom of God is ignored in the western world because it is bothersome to those who believe in a division between the political and the religious. John Dominic Crossan has gone to great length to show how Jesus was a complete social and political revolutionary while at the same time being a complete religious leader. The religious and political are equally present in Jesus’ message if one understands the first century occupied Palestine.[3] That this aspect is played down so much that it nearly disappears in the Protestant church is accurate and should be addressed.

Further, the emphasis on Jesus as king (establishing his reign over the earth) is not only present in the gospels but also is present as the main theme throughout the entire New Testament. Wright’s subject is laudable – Paul, who is used to deflect the reading of the gospels, has as his main message (if one looks beyond Romans 2-4) as eschatological – the coming reign of God over the earth. The kingdom/reign of God motif is a relevant study that ought to be taken more seriously as it is presented in the New Testament (rather than how it is presented by fundamentalist Christians who have a shocking message which unfortunately has little to do with the message in the New Testament).

Critiques of the Study

This book, while having some laudable elements (as described above), largely is a case study in how ecclesiastical scholars try to create a systematic theology on the historical Jesus while simultaneously denying that they are doing any type of study on the historical Jesus.

The study of the historical Jesus is one that has been taken up over the past several centuries to attempt to get beyond the messages of the gospels to the person who lived from 4 BCE to 33 CE. Most everyone is happy to admit that the gospels are pieces of literature and are not compendious. Therefore, there has been an emphasis to look beyond them to the person, Jesus of Nazareth. In the past 50 years, the scholars who work most diligently on this topic have been criticized as being reductionist. They have taken too much away from the message of the gospels by suggesting that some of the things Jesus does in the gospels are not historical. Most notably, the scholars are often lampooned for denying miracles (most notably the resurrection of Christ himself) and seeing Jesus as either a wandering prophet discussing the end of the world or as a social reformer attempting to start a social revolution.[4]

Conservative Christianity (which Wright is a part of) has taken some offense at the scholarship on the historical Jesus as they see the pictures of Jesus presented as being too reductionist to be helpful. They seem to believe (as Wright does in the book) that these depictions are products of the enlightenment with the agenda that Christianity is not true, and therefore the goal of the study will be to disprove Christianity’s main points.

In response to the study of the historical Jesus, much of conservative Christianity has denied the value of the study and insists that it will not be done. The problem with the study of the New Testament is that the church seeks what “the gospel” is in a book with 27 different authors with wide variety of messages among them. There is not a gospel, but many gospels if one were taking it seriously. This has been challenging to many, so they have sought a systematic theology that would provide identity to people over the years.

The field of systematic theology has done a good job of presenting consistent and exhaustive theologies which depict a full Christian identity. These studies have resulted in expansive works which have the kingdom of God as a concept that is tied very closely to the rest of their theology. Some, such as Schweitzer, Barth, Multmann, and Pannenberg have used kingdom of God theology as central to their systems of theology. The critique leveled against these thinkers, though (with the possible exception of Barth) is that systematics is more influenced by philosophy than it is by scripture.

If Christianity does not want to create a consistent theology from systematics and is nervous about creating one through history, it is unclear how a system of faith can be “biblical.” Wright falls into this trap and shows how it is practically solved – by pretending that the gospels are consistent through a Trojan horse approach to the historical Jesus.

Wright argues that there is a consistent message in the gospels concerning the kingdom of God. However, he knows that the term is only used twice in the Gospel of John (and used wildly differently – see John 3). Further, he must know that the nature of the kingdom of God is rather different between Matthew and Mark as compared with Luke. Matthew and Mark see it as the coming disclosure in the near future of God at the end of days. Luke sees it as that, but also as a present reality already present in the community of believers. Wright seems to have taken a “maximalist” approach and basically feels that Luke’s version must be Jesus’ because it includes more rather than less.

The discussion of Wright’s solution betrays his plan – he looks beyond the gospels to find “Jesus’ meaning” which then he expects all of the gospels to be presenting a central theme. Note that what Wright did was the study of the historical Jesus – his consistent theme that makes the gospels unite is what Jesus “actually said.” Here is the fine point of the critique – while denying that the book is depending on the study of the historical Jesus, it completely depends upon it.

As mentioned in the beginning of the essay, Wright has done extensive work on the historical Jesus and the view of this book is quite consistent with his picture of Jesus which he academically and thoroughly describes. However, the particular work discussed in this essay does not do that same thing. Unless one is already quite familiar with Wright’s corpus of work (which he does reference frequently throughout the pages of this book), it would be very difficult to understand his point of view.

The second main critique is his lack of sources for those he attacks. He creates two straw men which are unfair. The first is the ecclesiastical dolt who ignores most of the scripture that they say they believe. Using real sources from real people could substantiate this hyperbolic statement. However, the blanket statements are difficult to take too seriously. The second straw man is the vague description of “modern scholars” who are the enlightenment elite who want to destroy all faith. Again, next to no scholars are explicitly mentioned (much less the specific ideas that they present). This type of vague assault is helpful for presenting his own perspective, but it is not very fair to either camp. A more complete discussion ought to occur before lambasting the two groups to the extent that he does.

Conclusion

At the end of the day, this book’s merits do not outweigh its demerits. Its greatest interest to the reader is a case study revealing what type of argument is made to create a consistent message in conservative circles. Wright’s work as a whole is quite good and I would recommend to all his New Testament and the People of God series to see what he thinks about the gospels as they relate to the historical Jesus. That study is erudite and has much integrity (he spends a major portion of the first volume doing a fine job of showing how he will prove his points which he then uses consistently throughout the volumes). I do not agree with every aspect of that series, but it is a good study that deserves attention. This book, unfortunately is less valuable.  

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[1] www.bennickodemusministry.blogspot.com

[2] Wright does allude to this practice in recounting a conversation about this odd nature of the church’s use of Paul by suggesting they only preach Paul but oddly do not talk about Paul directly that often.

[3] John Dominic Crossan, The Historical Jesus: The Life of a Mediterranean Jewish Peasant, (New York: HarperOne, 1993).

[4] For the view of Jesus as a social reformer, see Crossan, The Historical Jesus, for the concept of Jesus as an apocalyptic prophet see Bart Ehrman, Jesus: The Apocalyptic Prophet of the New Millennium (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2001).

Review of Frank Viola and George Barna, Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Christian Practices

Frank Viola and George Barna, Pagan Christianity: Exploring the Roots of Our Christian Practices, Revised and Updated Edition, Carol Stream, IL: Tyndale House Publishers Inc., 2008 (first edition 2002) $17.99, ISBN 141431485X.

This book, while a bit dated, has come out with a reprint in 2012 and as such, it is not inappropriate for review and reflection. It is a popular book directed to those in Christian communities. Their aims are to educate Christians on the basis of Christian practice revealing that many elements of the modern church are not Biblical, but were instead borrowed from the culture in the first several centuries of Christianity (which the authors call “pagan”).[1] The book, being put out by the Barna group and written by Frank Viola and George Barna has a devotional agenda that encourages the house church model of ministry in contrast to the traditional church in America and Europe. This book review will give a brief overview of the contents of the book, then discuss its merits, followed by criticism of the book with a brief conclusion.

Brief Overview

This book is set to trace the non-Christian origins of much of church praxis. The book is deliberately not discussing the development doctrine and the interaction with non-Christian culture. This gives the authors freedom to discuss the external elements of the Christian social world without needing to worry about the challenging theology (which in itself did borrow from non-Christian sources in many places). It is likely that the authors avoided doing this because they want a practical guide for Christians. Christians are likely not as offended with a discussion of church buildings as they would be of the hypostatic nature of the Son to the Father. Viola and Barna want their readers to amend their practices but not necessarily their core faith principles.

The topics in the book cover the development of the ideas of church buildings, order of worship, sermons, pastors, clothes worn by clergy and laity, music (particularly choirs), tithing, sacraments (baptism and the lord’s supper), and Christian education. They do not discuss elements of the different customs and rituals that are distinctly Christian and are found in the New Testament  (after all, the goal of the book is to address those that are not found there). As a whole, they do a fair job of the development of these practices over time (even if they do vastly overemphasize Constantine’s influence on the church as a whole).

The final two chapters are not about the development of doctrine as much as an apology for the goal of the book. The book argues that the first century house-church method with a community of believers with no clergy/laity distinction and no building or “set” format needs to be the model for the current church. The authors have as the goal of the book is stated in these last chapters:

We believe this is God’s vision for the every church. In fact, we have written this book for one reason: to make room for the absolute centrality, supremacy, and headship of Christ in His church. Fortunately, more and more Revolutionaries today are catching that vision. They recognize that what is needed is a revolution within the Christian faith – a complete upheaval of those Christian practices that are contrary to biblical principle. We must begin all over again, on the right foundation. Anything else will be defective.

And so our hope as you finish this book is threefold. First, we hope that you will begin asking questions about church as you presently know it. How much of it is truly biblical? How much of it expresses the absolute headship of Jesus Christ? How much of it allows the members of His body the freedom to function? Second, we hope you will share this book with every Christian you know so that they too can be challenged by its message. And third, we hope you will pray seriously about what your response should be to that message.[2]

To accomplish this goal of transformation, they first have a chapter on biblical prooftexting as they anticipate objections that modern church practice does have a biblical precedent. They seem to think that the addition of chapters and verses has allowed for prooftexting and they trace the development of that idea.[3]

The final chapter then is an outright apology for the housechurch methodology as the redemption of Christianity. They cite some Barna studies showing dissatisfaction with the modern church and feel this is the solution (it should be noted, however, that they have no sociological data that shows Christians would find this method less objectionable). Rather than sociological support, they have ideological support. They argue that since this is the model in the Bible, it is far superior to any other viewpoint as it is inspired by God rather than contrived by a culture that had nothing to do with God.[4]

Merits of the Book

The book does have some very good data presented in it for an audience who would find it relevant and who would otherwise probably not learn about the topic. One of the goals of my own work is to bring the fascinating history of Christianity to life in a modern context so that the lessons of history can be used for modern decisions. Viola and Barna have attempted this same idea – they bring up topics from ancient history in a way that is directly related to the modern world. I end up disagreeing with some of their conclusions, but I find this goal admirable.

 Another point at which they and I agree is that the modern church laity (and probably clergy as well) fails to understand many of the rituals that they practice frequently and thereby challenge the value of those same rituals. As a case in point, few people know the origins and meaning behind the “exchange of peace” in the worship service. The exchange of peace is the modern reworking of the sacred kiss (which expressed peace) in the ancient world. The goal of the practice was used to present true forgiveness to everyone else in the community so that before communion was served, it was clear that there were not internal conflicts between Christians in the community.[5] However, most modern Christians do not understand this concept and use the time spent for that as a brief fellowship moment and ask each other how their weekend was spent. Indeed some churches have even embraced this lack of knowledge and changed the ritual from the “exchange of peace” to a “greeting of friendship.” While this new idea might have some value, it is hardly the value that was originally placed upon the ritual and it does not seem to have been deliberately set aside, instead, ignorance seems to have caused it to transform.

 Further to the previous point, the goal of the book for people to inquire as to the origin of their rituals is admirable. This book confronts the reader with shocking statements about some of the elements in Christian practice. While the statements are sometimes hyperbolized (see below under critiques), the effect is good – people are encouraged to ask why they certain functions are performed and a positive understanding could be the goal (either being informed by this book or other study). I am not necessarily sold on the value of simply abandoning the practices, but it very much one of my goals that practices be understood.

This book also shows Christians that many of the rituals that they find dear are not in fact included in the New Testament (or at the manner in which they are done today is not described in the New Testament). Many practices can only be traced to later generations which needs to be known. I am not as critical of later tradition as Viola and Barna are, but I do think people need to know that these practices are not necessarily “biblical.” Further, the scriptural support for these practices are often seen as “prooftexting” and this needs to be revealed. I am not convinced that all justifications for all of these rituals are “prooftexting” in its true sense, however, it is accurate that the Bible is used thematically (i.e. if the New Testament has a theme x, then it is logical to apply that same theme to today’s situation in an updated manner).

Many of the developments of thought about particular practices are described generally well by the book. While they tend to hyperbolize some of the points for dramatic effect, the “bare bones” data they present is accurate. For instance, they present the development of the church building and they do a good job discussing the buildings we currently know existed and when this practice became popular.[6] However, they go too far when they claim that there were no Christian buildings built before Constantine. While it is technically true, there were many houses (such as the one at Dura-Europos that the authors do discuss) that were transformed and were no longer residences. They see some type of distinction between a place built for one use and a remodeling project now tooling to be a Christian gathering place rather than building something anew.[7] This distinction seems to me to be rather technical and it is hard to imagine that they are not trying to push the data to support their own point. This example shows the value and challenge of their presentation.

Finally, this book is refreshing in that it is a ministry book that does not depend upon vague, uncited, assertions that cannot be discussed. This book does do a good job of presenting evidence in good Chicago style formatting of their assertions. There is some critique of the evidence they used (see below), but the fact that they took the time to do it makes a review like this constructive rather than destructive. It is possible for a reader to analyze their evidence so that the value and challenge of it can be explored. This is something that is more and more rare among ministry related books and this book sets itself off as distinct in that setting.

Critiques of the Book

The book has many challenges on historiographic and ideological grounds, simple mistakes, updated scholarship, and the hyperbolic nature of the presentation.

  

The first major challenge to the study is the supersessionist ideology which the book depends upon in order to make its case. The book admits that many of the practices of the modern church were found in ancient Israelite religion and later Judaism. However, the author relies upon the book of Hebrews by arguing that these practices are all obsolete and as such, should be avoided at every turn. While Hebrews does present a type of theology of replacement, most of that theology is restricted to the temple sacrificial system. While this system is attacked as a forerunner to the celebration of the Eucharist in the manner it is done, most of the critique is not about sacrifices, rather it is about the existence of a priest. If one reads Hebrews carefully, there is not necessarily any challenge to the nature of the priesthood. While it is true that the priestly function of offering sacrifice would no longer be necessary, there seems to be a lack of understanding that priests had far more functions than just this one aspect. Further, the role of the synagogue (which of course had almost no relationship with the temple sacrificial system) is not considered as separate and is therefore equally replaced.[8] This aggressive supersessionism makes one wonder why the book did not equally argue for removing the Hebrew Bible from the canon.

 The second major ideological challenge to the book is the relationship of Christ and Culture.[9] This text seems to argue for an aggressive separation known only to a very small portion of Christian history. This book has as an assumption that any borrowing from the culture around oneself is in and of itself wrong. For instance, the chapter on the sermon shows that the style of the sermon was based upon Greek oratory (with its three part literary structure). It is further pointed out that many of the early Christian leadership were trained in secular schools to learn rhetoric.[10] However, it is unclear why using a literary form that makes sense to a culture is wrong. The same logic could be addressed to the very book itself. It is written in English in an opinion book format to a culture that uses those mediums to present ideas – is that an inappropriate format to discuss religion because it was “borrowed from the culture around us?” This type of absolute separation from any type of secular influence is extremely rare in the history of Christianity. Indeed, the monastic movements in the fourth to seventh centuries would not stand up to this measure.

The response to the previous challenge made by the authors would certainly be that my presentation is not fair as there is a model provided in the New Testament; however, the New Testament itself would not stand up to the scrutiny of being free from “pagan” influences. For instance, the chapter on the sermon challenges the idea of using flowery imagery in the Greek literary style.[11] However, it does not mention that the book of Acts does this same thing. The sermon of Stephen, for instance, in Acts 7 is very much in the style of a Greek oration (and also, by the way, is opposed to supersessionist rhetoric). Further, Paul’s letters are in the literary style of ancient letters and 1 Corinthians has even been shown to be in the Greek oratorical style of deliberative rhetoric which was used politically to gain unity in a group.[12] Therefore, serious question can be asked as to how opposed the New Testament is from using “pagan” practices to present Christian messages (it should be noted that nowhere in this book do Viola and Barna claim that messages portrayed in church are not Christian).

On the whole, I will avoid picking apart particular issues that Barna and Viola discuss, but one that permeates throughout the entire book is that of hierarchy and clergy. The authors have as their goal a unity of believers with no distinction between those who are laity and those who are clergy (and certainly no type of hierarchy). The authors argue that this was a later development that is not found in the New Testament. In some senses, there are portions of the New Testament where this is almost true. However, on the whole it is not. Here are a few examples where the concept of a pastoral office is anticipated in the New Testament. Paul, our first written Jesus movement source still in existence, sees himself as the spiritual father of both Onesimus and Philemon because he converted them.[13] While this is hardly a formal pastoral office, it does not particular strike the reader as a community of absolute equals (after all, the surviving letters of Paul are him telling his congregations what to do). Further, there does not seem to be a discussion of the Gospel of Luke-Book of Acts, which clearly has a group of apostles and then the rest of the congregation. There is even good reason to think that there was yet another division – those who were “attending” but had not fully joined the movement and held everything communally (essentially what Ananias and Saphira were before attempting to join the group).[14] This shows not only a concept that might anticipate modern clergy, but even distinctions among the laity as well. Finally, this book does not look carefully at the Pastoral Epistles (particularly 1 Timothy) that has as its goal a unification of the community through formal offices. While some might not like this particular aspect of I Timothy, it is awfully difficult to read it without recognizing it is there.

 In addition to these previous challenges, the most striking problem with this text is the double standard presented of worshipping “in the style of the New Testament” while making textual study of the New Testament itself a major component of worship. By definition, the writers of the New Testament have no book to study. If Viola and Barna truly want to argue for worshiping in the style of the New Testament, then the fundamental component of exegesis of the New Testament would logically have to be abandoned for exegesis of the Hebrew Bible only. This of course is slightly ridiculous and would never be supported by the authors. However, it reveals a double standard that is a major ideological challenge which is not directly addressed.

The final main critique (getting beyond some of the mere mistakes made) is the sources that the authors use. Earlier, I lauded the authors for citing sources carefully. However, the problem is which sources they chose to use. In many ways this book was a veritable “who’s who” of outdated scholarship. When doing a statistical analysis of the frequency of outdated scholarship cited, the numbers are staggering. Philip Schaff whose main work was published in the 1860s was cited 23 times. Edwin Hatch (1895) was cited 27 times. Will Durant (1950) was cited 37 times. H. Richard Niebuhr and Daniel D. Williams’ The Ministry in Historical Perspective (1956) was cited 29 times. John F. White (1964) was cited an amazing 83 times. Rupert Davies (1968) was cited 19 times. Josef Jungman (1959) was cited 18 times. Frank Senn (1983) was cited 42 times. Graydon Snyder (1985) was cited 19 times. The only books which were up to date (given the first printing was 2002) which were cited more than ten times were Everett Ferguson The Early Christians Speak (1990) which was cited 18 times and David Norrington To Preach or Not to Preach? The Church’s Urgent Question (1996) was cited 30 times. While it is not necessarily bad to have older scholarship, when the weight of the citations of work that is at least 30 years old far outweighs the current work question needs to be asked. It unclear why the authors have acted in this manner but their doing so seriously calls into question the credibility of many of their claims. It is likely that they avoid more modern discussion because modern scholarship has questioned whether there was a single New Testament Christianity. In fact, there were many types in the early going and the authors are trying to argue now for a single type of Christian practice while at the same time trying to argue that it is the style fashioned by the New Testament.

Conclusion

While there are many challenges to this book (and some might argue that some of my scholarly analysis of this text is a little unfair for the book’s purpose), it has some very good points. The challenge with this book, as with so many ministry books, is that there is very good information in the text which everyone would benefit from reading. However, the overriding agenda of the book is far more questionable and those who do not already agree with Viola and Barna on this home church model of Christianity are prone to simply dismiss the entire text. By getting the work half right, the authors are in danger of losing their whole audience.  

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[1] I will avoid using the judgmental term “pagan” not only because it has all kinds of implications, but also because the category is not very helpful. By definition it is anything that is not Christian or Jewish – as such, it is too unwieldy to produce helpful conversation. 

[2] Viola and Barna, Pagan Christianity, 250.

[3] Ibid., 221-241.

[4] Ibid., 243-259.

[5] For an excellent study of this ritual, see Michael Philip Penn, Kissing Christians: Ritual and Community in the Late Ancient Church in the Divinations: Rereading Late Ancient Religion Series (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2005).

[6] Viola and Barna, Pagan Christianity, 9-46.

[7] Ibid., 15.

[8] To show how the synagogue is not considered relevant, on the chapter on the sermon it mentions that synagogue worship did meet regularly, but does not mention that it was from the synagogue’s exposition of a biblical text that the early Christian sermon was based. See Viola and Barna, Pagan Christianity, 87 footnote 5.

[9] To use the phrase from H. Richard Niebuhr’s classic work.

[10] Viola and Barna, Pagan Christianity, 89-94.

[11] Ibid., 92.

[12] See Margaret Mitchell, Paul and the Rhetoric of Reconciliation: An Exegetical Investigation of the Language and Composition of I Corinthians (Tubingen: Mohr Siebeck, 1992).

[13] Phlm., 10, 19.

[14] Brian Capper, “Interpretation of Acts 5.4” JSNT 19 (1983) 117-131.

Review of Hal Taussig's A New New Testament

Taussig, Hal (ed.), A New New Testament: A Bible for 21^st Century, Combining Traditional and Newly Discovered Texts. New York, Boston: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2013. 603 pages. $32.00.  

Hal Taussig, with the collaboration of nineteen church leaders and scholars, has taken on an ambitious project – to collate a new New Testament which includes other texts from the time period of the New Testament in order to find new meaning within and without the standard texts of the New Testament. Taussig is to be congratulated for not only presenting these texts with introductions, but also spending the time to describe the process by which this project began and how it came to its conclusions. The book, then, can be assessed on two levels – first on its content as a contribution to the scholarly and pastoral study of religion and second on its methods and goals of the group of scholars who developed the book.

The book as a whole has some laudable elements but Taussig pushes these elements to their extreme end. To do this does show a certain type of integrity in that any “hidden agenda” is quite frankly stated outright. However, many of these agendas are not necessary and the book at times can be considered far more clever than wise. This review will reveal some of the quite valuable aspects and goals of the volume, some of the scholarly merit and challenges to the text’s integrity as it stands, as well as some of the more questionable goals for the book’s use in modern society.

Brief Description of the Contents of A New New Testament

The book is a collection of the 27 New Testament texts along with 10 other texts not traditionally held in New Testaments: The Prayer of Thanksgiving, The Gospel of Thomas, The Odes of Solomon, The Thunder: Perfect Mind, The Gospel of Mary, The Gospel of Truth, The Prayer of the Apostle Paul, The Acts of Paul and Thecla, The First Letter of Peter to Philip, The Apocryphon (or Secret Book) of John. It also includes several appendices which hold a historical and practical background to the collections of texts, study guides for group study, resources for extracanonical literature, and introductions to each of the books with very brief bibliographies attached.

The collection is grouped according to type rather than traditional order. Taussig addresses some of the problems with this approach (such as the Gospel of John) could easily have fit into the category of “Gospels Featuring Jesus’s Teaching,” “Literature in the Tradition of John with an introductory set of prayers,” or (where it is placed) in “Gospels, Poems and Songs Between Heaven and Earth.” The reason Taussig has organized the collection in this way is so that the extracanonical literature would be more vibrantly compared with the New Testament if it was set within the framework. This openness to reorganization also allowed Taussig to put some texts together in the New Testament that make good sense (for instance, The Gospel of Luke and Book of Acts are finally set one before the other to show it as a two volume work).

The collection also begins each section with an early Christian prayer. The goal of this organization is to show that people in worship used these texts from their very beginning devotionally.[1] To accomplish this goal, he uses The Prayer of Thanksgiving, The Prayer of the Apostle Paul, and The Odes of Solomon which he divides into four parts simply so that every section can have its own prayer. It is surprising that all of the prayers selected are extracanonical when there are also prayers within the New Testament itself that could have been used (The Lord’s prayer being the most obvious example).

Taussig emphasizes the goal of the book is to increase understanding (and spiritual behavior) about the early Jesus movements (seeing them as varied) through these texts in the first several centuries in a balanced manner. He insists that the new books included are not more important than the old.[2] In so doing, he did not follow the original plan of removing some of the New Testament texts, which had been presented for an analogous project headed by Robert Funk in 1996.[3] However, he equally asserts that in the first several centuries of the Jesus movement, there is no reason to think that the books which did not eventually make the New Testament were read any less than the books which did make the New Testament.[4]

One of the goals of the book is to display the diversity of the Jesus movement both by comparing those outside the New Testament with those inside, as well as seeing the diversity within the New Testament itself.[5] To this end, the short introductions to each of the texts included emphasize some themes that would be in contrast to one another. The most common themes discussed as kind of “red threads” throughout the texts are in relation to gender, inclusion/exclusion of Jews and gentiles, the manner in which one unites with God, and responses to persecution.

The “companion” at the end of the text provides essays which discuss relevant topics to the use of the book as a whole. The essays cover the following topics: “The Discoveries of New Documents from Old Worlds” (discussing the challenge with ancient manuscripts both within and without the New Testament), “The books of A New New Testament: an overview” (discussing the goals of the book as a whole), “Two Surprising Stories: How A New New Testament came to be” (discussing the canonization process of the traditional New Testament as well as the process by which this volume was created), “What’s in A New New Testament” (discussing several key conclusions that can be drawn for a 21^st century audience from the collection as a whole), “Giving birth to A New New Testament and retiring the idea of Gnosticism” (discussing the scholarly problems with the category of Gnosticism and the implications if they are not dismissed as heresy), “A Rich Explosion of Meaning” (discussing the practical value of this text and conclusions that can be drawn from it by showing similarity between the Traditional New Testament and the extracanonical books), and an “Epilogue” which uses Taussig’s anecdotal experience for his view of how the text will be received and used.

The translations in the text are from two main sources. The New Testament texts are based upon the Open English Bible (an updated version of the 20^th Century Bible) which is freely accessible and not in copyright. The editors then adapted this translation where they felt it needed aid. The particular issue mentioned is in the case of gendered language that the updaters tried to make as inclusive as possible while still being faithful to the text.[6] The translations of the extracanonical texts came from a variety of sources with two key rules (the gendered one as mentioned above), but also with the principle that this text would have no transliteration – something that is nearly unique in the texts that come from Nag Hammadi.[7]

The selection of texts came about by a group of ecclesiastical leaders and scholars who met for the final time in New Orleans in 2012. The counsel (as it was made to mimic a church counsel) was attended by 19 members (with one who could not make the meeting but did provide opinions in the project). To the books credit, these figures are not only listed but a brief description of each member is included in the text.[8] The 10 additional texts were selected based upon two main principles: 1. It had to be dated no later than 175 C.E. and 2. That it had a significant spiritual contribution for the 21^st century in dialogue with the traditional New Testament. Some texts were difficult decisions because of these two principles. For instance, The Diary of Perpetua was seen as spiritually significant, but was outside the time frame for the project. 1 Clement was within the timeframe, but it was not seen as providing enough of a contrast to the existing texts for it to be included.

Finally, the main stated goal of the book is to provide new spiritual insights for Christians (and non-Christians) in the 21^st century. The concept of opening possibility for new texts to be included in one’s spiritual life could lead to new spiritual discoveries and insights particularly around issues that are often accused of being outmoded (such as gender, human rights, exclusivity, ecclesiastical authority, etc.).[9]

Merits of the book

Some aspects of this book are quite valuable. The most valuable aspect is the emphasis on diversity within both the early Jesus movement and the New Testament. As a teacher of the New Testament, my goal is always encouraging students to see diversity within the New Testament. The 27 books that make up the canon are wildly different. The fact of the matter is that if Christians wanted a very concise and clear exposition of their faith with no tensions or contradictions, they could have simply adopted one book as their holy book. Instead, there are at least 66 of them (including the Old Testament) with very different themes and theologies. There are ways that people have attempted to read them together so that contradictions are lessened, but no one denies the fact that they are diverse. The Book of Hebrews, for instance, presents a different kind of theology than found anywhere else in the New Testament (presenting Jesus as a high priest making the sacrifice of himself in the Platonic “heavenly temple”).

Taussig’s method of emphasizing the diversity – through the addition of other texts is probably a very good strategy for showing people how to read these texts. When one sees other texts, to which one probably is not as devotionally attached, it is easier to learn the strategy of how to read them critically. After doing this, then a reader could move back to the canonical texts with this new skill set.

The other side of inclusion of several other texts of the New Testament undoes some of the unintended consequences of canonization. When a set group of texts are selected as “special” then that by nature, makes other pieces of literature as less special and less important. This seems less of an issue with general literature as much as literature from the first several centuries of the Jesus movement about Christianity. These texts are somehow always seen as the ones which “didn’t make it” rather than just being pieces of literature like any other. While some (such as Taussig himself) might argue that discouraging the value of other texts was in fact some of the goals of canonization, other scholars would disagree. A canon is simply a rule or measure. It is not that other texts cannot be viewed, it is that when they are viewed, they are measured against that standard. That being said, there is no doubt that there were a number of texts that were circulating in the first several centuries of the Jesus movement which were simply not to be read. Some of those texts (such as the Apocryphon of John) were definitely on that list.[10]  However, it would be a gross overstatement to think that anyone would have criticized another Christian for reading 1 Clement. Therefore, Taussig’s book does help avoid that problem. By presenting the New Testament alongside other works, the other works might be able to be seen in a more valuable light than they had previously.

Another valuable point to this book is its intended audience. It clearly is written for those who have no idea that these other texts even exist, much less have a strong opinion about them. As a teacher, I can never condemn the bringing of new material to a group so that learning can be possible. It is true that there is a vibrant literary collection from early Christianity and this book might well bring out ten works which would not generally be known.

Further, this collection is a better collection than many for the task of it being viewed by a larger audience due to the restrictions placed on the counsel for selecting which books would be included. Most collections are of The New Testament and other Early Christian texts. Usually most all of the texts which Taussig’s counsel included are included; however, others are also included in a maximalist type of way. For instance, Bart Ehrman’s The New Testament and Other Early Christian Writings: A Reader includes twenty five additional texts including rather disputed ones such as The Secret Gospel of Mark. I generally would applaud Ehrman’s maximalist approach in a teaching setting (after all, just because everything is included it does not mean it needs to be all assigned). However, if the goal is for a wider audience who is not necessarily reading this text with others (either in a classroom or a community), including some of these strange and disputed secondary writings might keep them from getting too excited about the idea of reading other early Christian texts. Here, Taussig’s project might be helpful as one of the major criteria was that the texts included dialogue in some way with the New Testament itself.

The final value of this volume is his practical view of “Gnostic” texts. By placing some of the texts alongside the New Testament that some might consider “Gnostic,” he shows the actual difference between these texts and the New Testament itself. To be fair, even a casual reader will see striking differences between The Apocryphon of John and the New Testament. However, not as many will see as many between The Gospel of Thomas or The Gospel of Truth. Further, even from just those three texts, it will be clear to a reader that these are not the same thing. The category of Gnosticism is outdated and unwieldy.[11] This practical display is probably far more important than the essay Taussig wrote on the topic (to which I will respond below).

Challenges to the Book

 The book, as discussed above, does have practical value. However, there are serious challenges both in the scholarly data presented as well as some of the ecclesiastical suggestions made by Taussig.

The largest challenge practically for this book, which unfortunately might undo some of the practical merits of the book, is the main goal of the text to be for spiritual formation in alternate ways. Taussig claims that this book was written to find new ways of being religious: “A New New Testament’s more diverse picture of Christian beginnings supports the possibility that Christian practice and belief in our day might birth new and different ways of seeing God, morality, worship, human sexuality, and work.”[12]

The spiritual element that one might discover, however, Taussig finds to be 21^st century spritiaulity that was always present in Christianity, only lying dormant. He sees in this book the “possibility of claiming twenty-first century new meanings inherent in the first- and second-century Christ movements.”[13] As a historian, I have serious question how many of these 21^st century ideals were truly present in the first century. While there are plenty of theories of texts in literature which might suggest that if something is in the text, it does not matter if it was originally intended or not; however, Taussig does not present the texts like this. He presents a new history – there really were other types of theology that would match up very well with 21^st century mindsets about inclusion, human rights, and response to conflict, it is only the later suppressors of that theology that has led for it to be forgotten until the past twenty years. This view can be challenged. While it is very possible that women had a much larger role to play in the first several decades of the Jesus movement than later on (as can be seen in the New Testament itself), it is not clear to me that a full scale gender equality at all levels of Christian organization (a point Taussig wants to make as it is a 21^st century issue) existed in the first century at any time. The fact that it might have been slightly “better” does not equate with the present ideal.

Further, the spiritual priority of this book does not show very much respect or understanding with the concept of a book of faith. When Taussig off-handedly suggests that ten other texts ought to be read alongside the New Testament for spiritual insight merely because they are as old as the New Testament, almost any reader would recognize that this is not sufficient. The argument is not that there were not other older books that were later suppressed (of course there were – if there were no other choices, then obviously there would be no need for a standard canon). However, a book of faith is a mythos that is created by a community for meaning and identity. It is not so easy to simply suggest adding some new books to this collection.

Taussig, in his essay about the creation of the New Testament,[14] tries to show the ambiguity present in the creation of the New Testament and the creation of these other texts and argues that as the sources are equally ambiguous, there should be no problem. However, for a book of faith, its source is often not as important as its use. In fact, one glaring mistake Taussig makes in that chapter is he does express that the only criterion used in selecting the New Testament was use. Consider, for example, Eusebius’s famous discussion about which books were included in the New Testament (a citation that Taussig quotes in full). Eusebius categorizes them based upon use – he has three groups- those which everyone accepts and uses, those which some people accept and use, and those which no one accepts and uses. The source of the text is not discussed. It is not as if the church depended desperately upon the traveling companion of Paul who was a physician to give credence to a ministry of Jesus (given that Paul never knew Jesus and shows little knowledge of the historical Jesus in his writing).

Finally, this lack of respecting the true issue behind the idea of a book of faith loses his core audience – Christians. Throughout the book, he states that the problem is that certain texts are simply ignored by churches. This is not only true for the extracanonical books in the New Testament, but he says the same thing about Hebrews and Jude.[15] His spiritual goal of the book is mostly relevant to those who already have a spiritual connection with the traditional New Testament. However, because he does not begin from the concept of a book of faith, he does not have a convincing argument as to why they ought to open that book and allow for other texts to be included.

In addition to this practical concern, there are also several scholarly concerns about both the accuracy of some of the book’s claims on both the diversity within the Jesus movement and the New Testament itself.

The first major challenge is the presentation that Taussig promotes about the process of canonization. He claims that no true “New Testament” was developed until the 7^th-9^th century.[16] However, he only counts that which is in an actual book. He notes that Jerome had all of the same sources in the fourth century for the Latin Vulgate, but it was developed in at least two volumes.[17] The challenge to this idea is, of course, that the number of volumes is due not because they saw the New Testament as having many books – only because of convenience in the production of books.

The inaccuracy is further developed when he claims that “it is highly improbable that there were any separate collections of the twenty-seven books of the New Testament in the first four hundred years of Christian Tradition.”[18] While it is not exactly clear when he begins “the Christian Tradition,” it is reasonable to assume it begins somewhere near the year 30 C.E. at the approximate death of Jesus. Most scholars would place Codex Sinaiticus, Alexandrinus, and Vaticanus within that timeframe (in addition to some others). While it is true that some of these texts included 1 and 2 Clement, the difference was not great. The only way that Taussig’s claim is technically accurate is that all three of these manuscripts are not separate – they have an Old Testament connected to it.

Lastly on this point, Taussig argues that the issue was not settled even by the 9^th century but that Martin Luther brought the issue to the forefront again by attempting to remove The Book of James and The Apocalypse of John from the Bible. The Council of Trent in 1560, then was the reaction to this to keep this from gaining traction.[19] The problem with this claim, of course is that while Luther did challenge these books because he felt they did not present his concept of grace fully enough, his translation of the Bible (which was the standard for a very long time) had these books included. What was truly at issue at the Council of Trent on the issue of the canon were not these, but the so called “Apocrypha” – the handful of books that were in the Greek version of the Old Testament but not in the Hebrew Bible. Luther felt that these were helpful books, but not scripture. The New Testament – Taussig’s point of discussion – was not discussed much at all.

It is likely that Taussig stretched these facts to their extreme to try and paint an overly aggressive picture of the diversity possible within the books of the New Testament. However, this type of pushing the boundaries to the extreme begins to look ridiculous to the outside observer and he runs the risk of being dismissed. The worst of all of this is that he could have made the same point without the exaggerations. His first several pages of the chapter discussing the early development of canon and list is mostly accurate. That alone should provide the reader with the idea that there was, at one time, diversity in the components of the New Testament.

In addition to this inaccuracy there are many mistakes throughout the introductions to each text of the New Testament. Some of these mistakes are simply errors[20] whereas others are due to his emphasis on diversity among texts. The latter issue presents itself most strikingly with his comments on The Gospel of Matthew. Consider the following comment about the Gospel of Matthew’s relationship with Judaism: “In view of the many ways Christians have put down and done harm to Jewish  people in the past 1,900 years, it is a treasure to have the New Testament include such an explicit endorsement and spiritually rich exploration of Judaism.”[21] This presentation of the Gospel of Matthew, as any expert in the field knows, is only half true. While it is true that Jesus is the new Moses who interprets Torah, it is also the book which has some of the most anti-Jewish moments in it. The end of the narrative (the “great commission”) makes it clear that the book is directed for use among gentiles rather than Jews. There is good reason to think that the Gospel Of Matthew might well consider the Jesus movement as the ancestor’s of Abraham (and thereby those not included in the Jesus movement are not). However, the religion of the group of gentiles is probably akin to the religion of Paul’s opponents in Galatia – those who think Gentiles should become proselyte Jews when joining the Jesus movement. Therefore, Taussig’s comment is one half correct, but ignoring the other half makes his introduction misleading. It is likely he has done this to promote diversity and tension between books and in so doing, reduces diversity and tension within books. If the Gospel of Matthew can be painted as the “pro-Jewish” one, it can be contrasted with the Gospel of John as the “anti-Jewish” one (never minding that neither text is so simply for or against the Judaism).

A further scholarly confusion in this text is his chapter on “Gnosticism.” As mentioned above, he should be applauded for practically challenging the concept of Gnosticism for the largest cohort who hold on to the category – the general public rather than specialists. However, his chapter on the topic does not portray the complexity of the issue.[22] First, he puts so much emphasis on Karen King’s work, that he spends more time parroting her than fully explaining the problem. He mentions Michael Williams a few times, but never cites the text (even though Williams’s book on the topic was written a full 7 years before King’s). The actual problem with the category Gnosticism is not so much “retiring” it (as both King and Williams suggest) but rather, what can be done after the fact.

The challenge of dismantling the category of “Gnosticism” and still moving forward as a scholarly field has significant challenges. While nearly all scholars are happy to recognize that Irenaeus’s large cache of “knowledge falsely-so called” is not a single group and that any category suggesting that Marcion, the Gospel of Thomas, and the Apocryphon of John are all the “same” is foolish. The writings are simply too diverse for such a statement. However, the scholarly solution to this problem has not been sufficiently provided. Michael Williams has adopted a rather optimistic view that new categories can be used so long as we know what we are doing when using them. Karen King has presented a more pessimistic view that the name of the category has changed, but the actual function of it has not – the texts are compared to other texts that used to be considered “Gnostic” thereby ensuring the category exists while at the same time not claiming it.[23] Ismo Dunderberg’s Beyond Gnosticism, for instance, does a brilliant job of analyzing some key components of the fragments of Valentinus. However, it should be noted that nearly every single comparison with these fragments are the very same texts that used to be present in the old category of Gnosticism. The functional difference, then, is simply the name Gnosticism has left us, but the idea in practice persists.

Finally, Taussig unnecessarily attacks Elaine Pagels’s work, The Gnostic Gospels. He claims that Pagels suggests, through her attempt at making the Nag Hammadi library known to the larger world, a category that brings forward the old clichés of Gnosticism.[24] While it is probably true that some of her work is used by others for that end (Taussig discusses the modern “Gnostic” religious movement, for example), Pagels’s own work hardly has this view. When The Gnostic Gospels was written, she was comfortable using the category of Gnosticism (as even Williams and King were at that time!), but her point in the book is the diversity among materials in Nag Hammadi, not how they fit neatly in one category. If he truly wanted to find the culprit for this, he should have looked to Hans Jonas’s famous book, The Gnostic Religion written well before the Nag Hammadi library was discovered.

In addition to these scholarly problems, there also are some concerns with the texts themselves as presented by Taussig. First, his use of the Open English Bible has problems. While I suspect that the main reason for using this translation was simply that it was out of copyright and free to reproduce. Further, not only is it free to reproduce, but when one looks at the Open English Bible itself, anyone is welcome not only to copy it, but change any element where he or she sees fit. Indeed, the preface to the translations of A New New Testament states this is the reason it was selected.

The problem with this free Open English Bible is that it is not a very reliable translation. The Open English Bible is a “language updated” version of the Twentieth Century Bible developed in 1901 (and later revised in 1904). The Twentieth Century Bible was prepared to be a “plain English” translation of the Bible in contrast to the Victorian type translations that were made in the past. It was not a bad version – in fact, many of the catchy phrases that are in the New Revised Standard Version were based on this translation. However, the Twentieth Century Bible was based on what was the best Greek text of the time. Now, there are far superior Greek texts and the translation has become obsolete.[25] The Open English Bible has simply used that inferior text and updated the language. Taussig and company, then, have taken this updated version and updated it again. The steps between the Greek and the actual text have become so great that serious question can be asked as to the validity of the text itself. 

For those texts not in the New Testament, Taussig has used a variety of different translators to provide the translation – some of which are not bad. However, there are some major flaws in the production of them. First, Taussig introduced chapter and verse numbers for texts that never had them before now. While I sympathize with the frustration of not having as easily organized of a numbering system as the New Testament, when chapters are introduced, it by definition creates punctuation and paragraph breaks which are not present in the text. It gives Taussig the freedom to lead the reader to a particular conclusion (as he does with Thunder: Perfect Mind by suggesting that the final section is merely an “Appendix”).[26] Further, he does not provide the brackets for scholarly reconstruction of texts. When working with Nag Hammadi texts, it is imperative that readers know what words are in the text and which are reconstructed. While I rarely question the reconstructions presented by the experts in Nag Hammadi, to simply omit them completely is irresponsible scholarship. People deserve to know what is truly in the texts and what scholars think is in the texts.

Therefore, as a whole, I am glad that Taussig’s book exists. However, I wish he would have scaled back many of his comments so that the value of his idea (to have a volume which presented Nag Hammadi and New Testament texts side by side) could be more easily grasped. Here, readers will have to get beyond some of the strange suggestions by the book in order to be able to gain the value. Had Taussig simply followed the preface written by John Dominic Crossan, he would have triumphed greatly:

I conclude by thinking – and asking you to think as well – about gain and loss. I gave you only two examples where I think our traditional New Testament has lost something precious. It would have been better, for example, to have both Timothy and Thecla in there as confrontational challenges rather than Timothy alone. Better for the New Testament, better for Christian history, better for women, and, yes, better also for men.[27]

Crossan’s approach is not complicated by any calls to new spiritual enlightenment –simply one encouraging dialogue and challenge (which he does think would make a difference in people’s lives, just not the way that Taussig does). This is the value of these texts for the New Testament – they ought to have been used that way. Taussig went farther than Crossan by trying to suggest that this will be a new Bible for spiritual seekers. Unfortunately that is unlikely. It is far more likely that it will be used and appreciated by a very liberal base who like the idea of difference (but I highly doubt they will seriously gain spiritual insights for their own identity from texts hitherto unknown to them).

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[1] Taussig, A New New Testament, xxxi.

[2] Ibid., xix.

[3] Ibid., 509-510.

[4] Ibid., xxiv.

[5] Ibid., 519.

[6] Ibid., xx-xxi.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid., 555-558.

[9] Ibid., 519.

[10] See Lance Jenott and Elaine Pagels, “Antony’s Letters and Nag Hammadi Codex I: Sources of Religious Conflict in Fourth-Century Egypt” Journal of Early Christian Studies, 18 (4), 557-589. 

[11] As first discussed by Michael A. Williams, Rethining “Gnosticism”: An Argument for Dismantling A Problematic Category Princeton University Press, 1996.

[12] Taussig, A New New Testament, 520.

[13] Taussig, A New New Testament, 519.

[14] Ibid. 500-509.

[15] “But Hebrews has been mostly ignored by official Christendom; in a real way, it has been treated as if it were not really discovered, even though it was included in the traditional New Testament” Taussig, 383.

[16] Ibid., 507.

[17] Ibid., 506-507.

[18] Ibid., 506.

[19] Ibid., 507-8.

[20] For instance suggesting that Paul’s epistle to the Galatians was not written to the city of Galatia, but instead to all “Gauls” everywhere – Taussig, 294.

[21] Ibid., 25.

[22] Ibid., 529-536.

[23] I am indebted to my good friend, Alexander Kocar, Ph.D. candidate at Princeton University, for this insight into the field of Nag Hammadi and related studies.

[24] Ibid., 532-536.

[25] Bruce Metzger, The Bible in Translation: Ancient and English Versions (Grand Rapids: Baker, 2001), 106-110.

[26] Taussig, A New New Testament, 185.

[27] Ibid., xv.