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Justin Martyr


“Those who have the means help all those who are in want, and we continually meet together.”

Justin Martyr’s First Apology, written approximately 155 CE to the Roman emperor Antonius Pius, was composed with the threat of violent persecution flickering in the background. Likely written in response to the burning at the stake of Bishop Polycarp of Smyrna, Justin strains to address the main accusations against Christians including atheism, immorality, and disloyalty to the Roman emperor.

As part of this argument, Justin included a general outline of how Christians assembled for worship in the second century. Beginning with “Those who have the means help all those who are in want, and we continually meet together,” Justin describes a pattern that feels remarkably familiar. He describes how the Christians assembled on a Sunday, heard a reading from “the writings of the prophets” followed by a discourse from the presider. After a moment of prayer, the service proceeds to a meal of bread, wine, and water with the remaining portion taken by deacons to those who could not be present. Finally, the community takes up a collection given to the presider specifically for aid to the poor. “[The presider] aids orphans and widows, those who are in want through disease or through another cause, those who are in prison, and foreigners who are sojourning here. In short, the presider is a guardian to all those who are in need.”[1]

Justin’s description of this second century Christian community highlights how attuned these early assemblies were to distinctions between the rich and poor. He emphasizes that both those with means and those in want share a common meal, and the collection to aid the poor plays such a prominent role in the service that one liturgical scholar has suggested that second century Christians worship was marked by three focal points (word, table, and collection for the poor) rather than two (word and table).[2]

Why did Justin make it a point to say that both the rich and poor shared in the common meal? What should we make of the collection - both in terms of its focus on direct aid to the poor and its prominence in the service itself? Through this (overly lengthy) blog post, I explore the broader context for Justin’s First Apology and how the shared meal and collection for the poor echo Paul’s concerns regarding class distinctions at the Lord’s supper[3] and the Jerusalem collection referenced in Paul’s letters[4]. I end with a note of hope that Justin’s description of second century worship may spark ‘traditioned innovation’ by encouraging the development of a worship pattern that aligns with a threefold focus of word, table, and collection for the poor.
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Justin Martyr (100-165) was born in Flavia Neapolis, Samaria, in a Greek speaking town in Judea of the Roman Empire. Recounting his journey to Christianity, Justin describes how he journeyed from Stoicism to Aristotelianism to Platonism, eventually encountering an old man near the Ephesus seashore who told him of the Hebrew prophets who had foretold Christ.[5] His past explorations of Greek philosophy and conversion to Christianity would lead him to create a synthesis of these many schools of thought, an effort neatly symbolized by his continuing to wear the philosopher’s cloak after his conversion. Justin is especially remembered for his synthesis of Platonism and John’s Gospel’s use of the term Logos, arguing that it was through the divine Logos that God prepared the way for his final revelation in Christ. “For all writers were able to see the truth darkly, on account of the implanted seed of the Logos which was grafted into them.”[6] 

Justin’s theology of the logos spermatikos represents a fusion of Platonist philosophy and Christian claims about Jesus’ divinity at a time when violence against Christians, while sporadic rather than systematized[7], were compelling leaders to demonstrate how Christianity represented continuity with the wider Greco-Roman culture. It appears, however, that Justin was not entirely successful in convincing Roman authorities. Approximately a decade after he wrote the First Apology, he was beheaded along with several of his students.

The burning at the stake of Polycarp and beheading of John reflect the fact that Christians had become a nuisance to the Roman empire. While there were a variety of reasons for this including secrecy and a refusal to worship the emperor, Christianity also challenged Roman values on the body and wealth and poverty.

Mary Beard’s incredible book SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome provides a Roman perspective on these sporadic persecutions. Although Christians represented a relatively small percentage of the population - approximately 200,000 in a empire-wide population of 50-60 million - they provoked the ire and frustration of many. Whereas the Romans regularly incorporated the gods of their subjugated peoples into a diverse and growing pantheon, and they understood gods to be rooted in a specific region (Isis from Egypt, the Jewish god from Judea, Mithras from Persia), Christians were secretive, stubbornly monotheistic and exclusive. Worse still, they claimed their faith was universal as opposed to geographically-bound, and were constantly seeking new adherents. Christians also provocatively appropriated terms from Rome’s imperial theology, such as the ‘Good News’ of Augustus’ birth, to the annoyance of traditional-minded and sensitive Romans. Further, their preaching “threatened to overturn the most fundamental Greco-Roman assumptions about the nature of the world and of the people within it: that poverty, for example, was good; or that the body was to be tamed or rejected rather than cared for.”[8]

On issues of wealth and poverty, Beard describes the wide gulf between traditional Roman values and the great reversal that Jesus of Nazareth preached in his Sermon on the Mount and in his interaction with the Rich Young Ruler:

“What all would have agreed, both rich and poor, was that to be rich was a desirable state, that poverty was to be avoided if you possibly could. Just as the ambition of Roman slaves was usually to gain freedom for themselves, not to abolish slavery as an institution, so the ambitions of the poor were not radically to reconfigure the social order but to find a place for themselves nearer the top of the hierarchy of wealth.... The idea that the rich man might have a problem entering the kingdom of heaven would have seemed as preposterous to those hanging out in our Ostian bar as to the plutocrat in his mansion.”[9]

And so it was in this broader context of a clash in practices and values resulting in sporadic violence that Justin takes up writing, perhaps nervously, to the Roman Emperor Antonius Pius. Creatively, he employs this standard Roman legal petition to address the main criticisms of Christians at that time and in doing so expounds on Christianity’s compatibility with Greek philosophy and describes the worship practices of the Christian assembly. 

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In chapter 67 of First Apology, Justin begins by noting that “those who have the means help all those who are in want.” He then describes how the assembly gathers “on the day named after the sun” wherein “records of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read for as long as there is time” followed by the a discourse from the presider who “admonishes and invites us into the pattern of these good things.” After a moment of prayer, the assembly proceeds to the simple meal. Justin writes: 

“And, as we said before, when we have concluded the prayer, bread is set out to eat, together with wine and water. The presider likewise offers up prayer and thanksgiving, as much as he can, and the people sing out their assent saying the amen. There is a distribution of the things over which thanks have been said and each person participates, and these things are sent by the deacons to those who are not present.”[10]

Just a few sentences in, Justin has emphasized that those with means and those in want come together to share a meal and that deacons are charged with bringing a remaining portion to those who are not able to be present. This is a remarkable contrast with Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, a text that was undoubtedly part of Justin’s mental furniture. 

In what is quite possibly - and unfortunately - the first historical reference to the Lord’s Supper, Paul angrily chastises the Corinthians because the wealthy had begun to eat the Lord’s Supper separately from the poor, thereby shunning the common meal. “What! Do you not have homes to eat and drink in? Or do you show contempt for the church of God and humiliate those who have nothing?”[11] Yet the wealthy Corinthians’ decision to separate themselves out, or even eat entirely different meals at the same table, would have been in keeping with Greco-Roman meal practices at that time.[12] 

In a somewhat humorous passage written around the turn of the second century, the Roman magistrate Pliny the Younger bitterly complains about a dinner host who had assigned three different levels of food and wine in keeping with the three levels of social orders present at the table. “One was for himself and me; the next for his friends of a lower order (for you must know, he measures out his friendship according to the degrees of quality); and third for his own freed-men and mine.”[13]

Both Paul’s chastising of the Corinthians and the Greco-Roman practice of different social orders eating separately helps explain why Justin emphasized the coming together of ‘those with means’ and ‘those in want’ in a shared meal.

Following this shared meal, the Christian assembly took up a collection for aid to the poor that was deposited with the presider. “Those who are prosperous and who desire to do so, give what they wish, according to each one’s own choice, and the collection is deposited with the presider. He aids orphans and widows and those who are in want through another cause, those who are in prison, and foreigners who are sojourning here. In short, the presider is the guardian to all those who are in need.”[14]

Once again, Paul’s letters help us understand the significance of this second century collection. In his letters from the middle of the first century, Paul makes multiple references to an effort among the Gentile assemblies to provide support for the Jerusalem poor.[15] This Jerusalem collection originated as both a sign of unity among the first century Christian assemblies and as a practical way of helping the needy among the Jerusalem assembly.

There are multiple interpretations of the use of the word ‘poor’ in Paul’s references to the Jerusalem collection, and at times it has been suggested that ‘the poor’ served as simply an honorific title. Most likely, however, it actually described the social status and needs of those within the assembly, one that may have recently experienced a famine and was experiencing food shortages at that time. Therefore, “the collection was intended not merely as a symbolic effort meant to demonstrate unity among the different churches; it also addressed a genuine need in the Jerusalem community.”[16] Paul urged the gentile Christians to contribute, made specific arrangements for a deacon to deliver this collection, and grew frustrated when the collection only proceeded in fits and starts.

Unlike the Jerusalem Collection, the collection described in Justin’s First Apology is kept within the assembly, with monies given to the presider for aid to the poor. It is significant that this collection takes place after the shared meal and constitutes the final liturgical action described before Justin begins an explanation about why the assembly takes place on the day of the sun.
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When I first read Justin’s sketch of Christian worship, I was struck by the sustained focus on wealth and poverty at both the shared meal and, most obviously, in the collection for the poor. I also wondered what happened to that latter collection for the poor and wanted to explore how it had become an occasional occurrence -- a second collection for a particular cause -- rather than an essential part of the liturgy. As Gordon Lathrup writes in Holy things: A Liturgical Theology, in this pattern “the structure of God’s word is set next to the taste of promise which opens on to a response to the actual needs of the world.”[17] Might there be elements here worth exploring in our contemporary liturgy?

Justin’s text requires us to ask several questions of our liturgy. Given the significant attention paid to diminishing distinctions between “those with means” and “those in want”, I’d ask how and whether this same spirit is reflected in our worshiping assemblies today. Having been around the Episcopal Church for a while now, I’m frequently struck by how many congregations were built and have remained wealthy enclaves, where the separation from the poor appears almost complete. Why do we continue to find creative ways to separate ourselves by class? 

Further, I find it striking that the 1978 Book of Common Prayer’s offertory sentences make no reference to providing aid to the poor, nor do they appear to draw on any of the references to the Jerusalem collection in Paul’s letters.[18] There is a creative opportunity here to write and include an offertory sentence acknowledging the ancient history of Christians bringing their gifts to support the mission of the Church, of which providing aid to the poor has been a key component since the time of Paul.

Finally, I’d note that the Book of Common Prayer’s Order for Celebrating the Holy Eucharist[19] offers creative room for developing a Eucharistic liturgy that patterns itself on Justin Martyr’s description of a threefold movement from word to table to collection for the poor. To be clear, I’m not suggesting that the collection for the poor replace the current collection embedded in the Eucharistic portion of the service. What I am instead suggesting is that there is historical precedent for making permanent a second collection specifically aimed at providing aid for the poor.

Such a pattern would be faithful to one of the earliest outlines of how Christian assemblies gathered, would fulfill the ancient role of Christians providing direct aid to the poor, and would help communities focus on the needs of the poor on a more regular basis. 




[1] 1 Apology 67 in Gordon Lathrup’s Holy things: A Liturgical Theology, page 45
[2] Lathrup, Gordon. Holy Things: A Liturgical Theology, page 45
[3] 1 Corinthians 11:21-22
[4] Rom 15:26, 31; 1 Cor 16:3; 2 Cor 8:14; cf. Gal 2:10
[5] MacCullough, Darmaid. A History of Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years. Page 142.
[6] McGrath, Alister. Introduction to Christian Theology. Page 16.
[7] Beard, Mary. SPQR. Page 518.
[8] Beard, Mary. SPQR. Page 516.
[9] Beard, Mary. SPQR. Page 472.
[10] 1 Apology 67 as translated by Gordan Lathrup, pg 45.
[11] 1 Corinthians 11:21-22
[12] Malina and Pilch, Social-Science Commentary on the Letters of Paul, pg 109.
[13] Pliny the Younger, Letters II, 6, LCL 109-13
[14] 1 Apology 67 as translated by Gordan Lathrup, pg 45.
[15] Rom 15:26, 31; 1 Cor 16:3; 2 Cor 8:14; cf. Gal 2:10
[16] Duff, Paul. “Paul’s Collection for the Poor” Oxford University Press -
[17] Lathrup, Gordon. Holy Things: A Liturgical Theology. Page 46.
[18] Book of Common Prayer, Page 343
[19] Book of Common Prayer, Page 400

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