Amazing growth of the early Church

Recently, I read a post on a theology forum where someone was puzzled that, when Peter gave the Pentecost sermon described in Acts, there were only a few hundred people present. He (the contributor, presumably not Peter) questioned, on this basis, why the growth of the infant church was 'so slow.'

I'll admit that, engrossed though I have become in scripture studies, there are times when it's slightly disappointing to realise that some of the New Testament includes insights from Christian prophets and from the awareness of the early Church herself. It would be stunning to think that Peter (whose behaviour on the night of his ordination was not precisely exemplary... and, yes, I know the Last Supper was neither the Eucharist nor an ordination, but allow me some nostalgia), just fifty days after the crucifixion, with Caiaphas still high priest and Pontius Pilate still governing, would have been so filled with the Holy Spirit that he gave a sermon for all times. Romantic though I am, nonetheless, I know it is very likely that Acts is capturing what would take place in the very early church - this is not necessarily a literal account of a sermon.

Still, the post I mentioned in the first paragraph was rather puzzling to me. I am amazed at how quickly the early Church grew. It is astonishing that, by the time Paul wrote his epistles, just a few decades after Jesus' resurrection, there were Christian communities in Rome, Antioch, Ephesus, Corinth, and so forth. No glory had come to Christian believers - there had been no toppling of Roman rule - hardships were no less (and, for many, had increased as a result of their Christian commitment.) Even today, it is easy to wonder if the world is any better than it ever was - and Christians await the parousia yet know they have no more idea of what it entails than... well, first century Palestinian Jews would have expected a Messiah who was cursed by hanging on the tree.

Indulge me once again, because, though this may seem silly, it is a thought that always strikes me when I hear the gospels about Jesus' temptations - which mostly are to power. Jesus' being the divine Person did not mean that he did not accept full humanity, with all the limitations that entails. I can picture Satan, in saying he'd give Jesus all the kingdoms of the world if he'd fall down and worship him. "Who do you expect to embrace that Trinitarian theology - certainly not the Greeks?! Look on the glories of Egypt - you certainly cannot imagine your message will get a foothold in northern Africa. Above all, it would be total folly to think your message would ever have any effect in Rome."

I know my history - know my theology - have had the privilege of reading the works of the greatest theologians of the patristic era and of studying the New Testament in depth. I shall never write this on an exam paper, of course, but only divine power, only the Holy Spirit within the Church, could explain why the message of an itinerant preacher - a prophet, like many others, in life - a man who worked wonders, but who was not alone in doing so - could have a massive effect on most of the civilised world within a few centuries.

Recently, in my Old Testament studies, I've gone into great depth about Deutero-Isaiah, as I mentioned in a previous post. There is no consensus on who is "The Suffering Servant," and indeed it appears that there is more than one 'servant' in the passages. Christianity can claim Christ for the servant with a strong basis - he was the representative of Israel, the fulfilment of promise, a great prophet. (The passages in Isaiah do not refer to an Incarnate Logos, which was not a concept at that time, nor to a Messiah who was divine.)

Why am I rambling so? Well, I was partly teasing before, when I said it was hard to read, for example, Peter's Pentecost sermon and allow for that it might not be literally true, for all the truth it embodies. What is in the scriptures is truth - but not history as we would call that today in many cases. This is no threat at all. Jesus hardly appeared on the day of the resurrection and said, "Happy Easter - I am the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity," then devoted the next fifty days to giving the fishermen et al a crash course in systematic and sacramental theology. Divine revelation allows for our human capacity. Christ speaks through His Church, and, if for example the Trinity was not formally defined for several centuries, that does not mean it was untrue.

We (the Church) grasp many truths at prayer before definition is possible. The awareness of Jesus' divinity, of the Trinity, and other points of doctrine which would have been unthinkable during Jesus' lifetime (grasped by others only in light of the resurrection), was beginning in worship long before it was discussed at an oecumenical council.

Deutero-Isaiah, and the Hebrew scriptures which were revised substantially following the same Babylonian captivity in which Isaiah found himself, hardly contained any smugness or certainty. Yahweh was the only God to be worshipped - but it still was unclear that the Hebrews thought there were no other gods. In fact, many of them feared offending Marduk in Isaiah's time! Isaiah's faith was one of awareness of divine glory and power. All of the Old Testament, for all of its confusion, shows that human beings could not know God fully (whether he walked in a garden with Abraham or appeared in a burning bush), but that our calling was to be icons of the transcendent God. We were to worship, and to act, in a way to make this reflection of his glory present.

Deutero-Isaiah (as elsewhere, but here particularly emphatically) stresses Israel as the servant, the nation bound by sacred covenant, the messianic agent - what I term the Icon. Jerusalem was to be the light to all of the world. This may have no connection, but since the blog, unlike my essays, is just a recording of reflections, I see an interesting paradox. Jerusalem has at no time been an empire or major world power, on a par with Persia, Alexandria, Greece, Babylon, or Rome. Lord knows that the history of the Jews was (and still is) a tragic but inspiring tale of fidelity despite constant trouble and oppression. Yet the three great monotheistic faiths all see Jerusalem as the holy city.

Jesus, though himself divine, had this "icon" calling in his Incarnation (naturally to a degree that we cannot match.) Perfect creative power submitted to being powerless amidst human misunderstanding and intrigue. Perfect love saw betrayal, violence, scapegoating, mockery, abandonment by those whom one loved best. The King of Kings was mocked in a crown of thorns - the Second Person of the Trinity condemned for blasphemy.

I have no 'answer' here - but, for those looking for a Passiontide meditation, it might be interesting to ponder what Jesus taught us not only of our own calling but of the nature of God.