RamistThomist
Puritanboard Assessor
Schaff, Philip. Apostolic Christianity A.D. 1-100. History of the Christian Church vol 1. Hendrickson Publishing.
I came to a realization halfway through reading this book: this is not so much a volume on early church history but a superb New Testament introduction. It has all the hallmarks of 19th century scholarship: optimism in American progress, warm spirituality, and opinionated conclusions. Because of that, it can never replace modern New Testament introductions, yet because of that it can never make for boring reading.
After introductory remarks concerning sources and method, Schaff surveys the apostolic period, beginning from most general (e.g., preparation for Christianity) to specific (actual analyses of New Testament books). He also covers Christian life and worship.
Schaff’s remarks on the New Testament books, while always interesting, are not the main focus of his review. Rather, we will focus on incidents that reveal his contemporary intellectual battles: e.g., the infallibility of the pope and liberal scholarship.
Peter and Rome
Schaff mounts a fairly impressive case for why Peter could not have been the first pope. By themselves, none of these points are conclusive. Taken together, they form a substantial problem for Petrine supremacy.
19th Century Liberalism
For the most part, Protestant liberalism is to be feared and hated. Nonetheless, not all “liberals” (or better, critical scholars) are equally wrong. Some simply are interested in truth, not unbelief. To be sure, 19th century liberalism is not the most pressing issue for the church today, but the names are worth knowing. On the most extreme end we find D. F. Strauss and F.C. Baur, arguing, obviously absurdly, that parts of the New Testament were not written until the mid second century. Even if there is not much to recommend for Baur, one must acknowledge the legitimacy of historical inquiry. We are not gnostics. Time, space, and history are real.
In the ranks of the godly, pride of place goes to August Neander, whose work’s edifying character “naturally grows out of his conception of church history, viewed as a continuous revelation of Christ’s presence and power in humanity” (41).
An organic view of history
Schaff was not a Hegelian. Those who often raise that charge are generally clueless of what Hegel taught. Nonetheless, to be fair, it is easy to see why some would think he was a Hegelian. He spoke of an organic view of history. That in itself is not remarkable. Jesus compared himself to a vine, positing some organic relation between himself and his disciples, yet no one calls Jesus the first Hegel. Schaff, though, does seem to take the analogy a step further. Because the church is a body, it is organic. Because it is organic, so runs the sorites, it grows through a process (507).
Is this a problem? It clearly avoids the more obvious difficulties in Hegel, namely that of pantheism. Schaff is thus cleared of that charge. Is he correct? Here we must be more hesitant. Bold arguments from organic metaphors are dangerous. Not necessarily wrong, but one must urge caution. It is probably true there is a process to history (some form of predestination demands as much). Only a nihilist of Macbeth’s caliber would deny such a view. One gets in trouble, however, when one adopts a God’s-eye view of history and identifies key organic moments. To be fair, Schaff remains relatively free of that consequence.
Conclusion
Reading Schaff is like coming home to an old friend. He is warm and courageous, eschewing what would today be modern academic niceties. Even when he is wrong, he is refreshingly wrong.
I came to a realization halfway through reading this book: this is not so much a volume on early church history but a superb New Testament introduction. It has all the hallmarks of 19th century scholarship: optimism in American progress, warm spirituality, and opinionated conclusions. Because of that, it can never replace modern New Testament introductions, yet because of that it can never make for boring reading.
After introductory remarks concerning sources and method, Schaff surveys the apostolic period, beginning from most general (e.g., preparation for Christianity) to specific (actual analyses of New Testament books). He also covers Christian life and worship.
Schaff’s remarks on the New Testament books, while always interesting, are not the main focus of his review. Rather, we will focus on incidents that reveal his contemporary intellectual battles: e.g., the infallibility of the pope and liberal scholarship.
Peter and Rome
Schaff mounts a fairly impressive case for why Peter could not have been the first pope. By themselves, none of these points are conclusive. Taken together, they form a substantial problem for Petrine supremacy.
- It is unlikely Peter would have been bishop of Rome for twenty five years. He would have been largely absent from Syria and Palestine, which seems odd for the “apostle to the Hebrews” (261).
- Paul completely ignores him in his letter to Rome. This does not mean Peter was absent from Rome. It simply implies that Paul was just as important, if not more so.
- On the other hand, tradition has Peter at Rome. While it is only tradition, it is an old tradition and not easily dismissed. Taken with points (1) and (2), we may assume that Peter was simply a bishop: one among others, largely eclipsed by Paul.
19th Century Liberalism
For the most part, Protestant liberalism is to be feared and hated. Nonetheless, not all “liberals” (or better, critical scholars) are equally wrong. Some simply are interested in truth, not unbelief. To be sure, 19th century liberalism is not the most pressing issue for the church today, but the names are worth knowing. On the most extreme end we find D. F. Strauss and F.C. Baur, arguing, obviously absurdly, that parts of the New Testament were not written until the mid second century. Even if there is not much to recommend for Baur, one must acknowledge the legitimacy of historical inquiry. We are not gnostics. Time, space, and history are real.
In the ranks of the godly, pride of place goes to August Neander, whose work’s edifying character “naturally grows out of his conception of church history, viewed as a continuous revelation of Christ’s presence and power in humanity” (41).
An organic view of history
Schaff was not a Hegelian. Those who often raise that charge are generally clueless of what Hegel taught. Nonetheless, to be fair, it is easy to see why some would think he was a Hegelian. He spoke of an organic view of history. That in itself is not remarkable. Jesus compared himself to a vine, positing some organic relation between himself and his disciples, yet no one calls Jesus the first Hegel. Schaff, though, does seem to take the analogy a step further. Because the church is a body, it is organic. Because it is organic, so runs the sorites, it grows through a process (507).
Is this a problem? It clearly avoids the more obvious difficulties in Hegel, namely that of pantheism. Schaff is thus cleared of that charge. Is he correct? Here we must be more hesitant. Bold arguments from organic metaphors are dangerous. Not necessarily wrong, but one must urge caution. It is probably true there is a process to history (some form of predestination demands as much). Only a nihilist of Macbeth’s caliber would deny such a view. One gets in trouble, however, when one adopts a God’s-eye view of history and identifies key organic moments. To be fair, Schaff remains relatively free of that consequence.
Conclusion
Reading Schaff is like coming home to an old friend. He is warm and courageous, eschewing what would today be modern academic niceties. Even when he is wrong, he is refreshingly wrong.
