Historical and Theological Perspectives on the Baptismal Font

The placement and appearance of the baptismal font has been the subject of many debates throughout the history of the church. This article traces many of these discussions and offers suggestions for current practice.

Questions about the scale and location, the symbolism and importance, of the baptismal font, indeed about the relationship of baptismal washing to initiation, are crucial to our generation. The issues are so complicated, however, that some parishes are refusing to decide about the location of fonts and are building churches without them. Many other churches have abandoned permanent fonts in favor of stainless steel basins, plastic bassinets, or glass punch bowls.

The contemporary practice seems to be repeating that of the middle decades of the sixteenth century when reformers abandoned the abuses and popery of Rome in order to create places and rites that would focus on fundamentals: the assembly gathered around the candidate. The reformers set aside all else—no salt, no blowing in the ears, no oil, no candle, no clothing, and sometimes, as with the Anabaptists, no water at all—hoping to find the fundamental meaning of this sacrament, which all agreed was given by mandate of the Lord Jesus Christ.

The search is an emotional one. We argue about the font because we know that as baptism captures our identity, so it becomes a symbol of our struggle for the church’s survival in this age. Not only is this notion appropriate but also it is in keeping with the history of baptism. No place has been so layered with meaning, so laden with iconography, as the place of baptism. No archaeological remains have been more consistently in evidence than the font. Even when the church’s worship took place in private Roman houses, the baptisteries were clearly set apart. No table, no reading stand, no presidential chair, no plate, no cup, no cross survives that period. But the font was already rich in iconography.

Patristic Sources

We will better understand the place of the font in contemporary church architecture if we begin with a review of the primary sources, the Patristic literature concerning the baptismal washing, especially the baptismal literature dating from the second century. This information exists in three forms: Christian apologetics, ritual descriptions and texts, and homilies or catecheses.

We often operate with two assumptions about the first centuries of the church: first, that the various churches throughout the empire held the same beliefs and celebrated the sacraments in the same way; and second, that the era was primitive and therefore theologically undeveloped. Both assumptions are false. Churches in the first four centuries witnessed active research in biblical and philosophical sources. There were theological debates between Christians and political and religious discussions among Christians and Gnostics and others. There were theological and practical differences between the East and West—even in the way they kept their calendars. All of these factors yielded a rich matrix for baptism.

The word baptism comes from the Greek baptizein, meaning “to dip repeatedly.” The sacrament that we refer to as baptism was at first called “enlightenment,” as we read in the writings of Justin (c. 160). Baptism was called enlightenment because it bestows the fire of the indwelling Word, the pillar of light, Christ, who scattered the darkness and spread the light of truth. It was also understood as initiation, a term for the process of becoming a member of the community. If one considers the process as initiation, then the act of baptizing, though meaningful in itself, is part of a broader constellation of rites.

Although the word baptistery does not occur until 350 in the writings of Cyril of Jerusalem (Mystagogical Catechesis I), archaeology has shown us that baptisteries existed as early as 235, for example, at the Roman house church in Dura-Europos. To consider these sources as evidence of universal practice, however, would be a mistake. That a wide variety of practices continued long after fonts were in use suggests, perhaps, that neither the place of a font nor its specific qualities are as important as the water and the action of washing.

The Didache, written in the early second century, represents Syrian practice. It is concerned with the qualities necessary for the water; namely, that it be cold (or at least not hot) running water. Practically speaking, these requirements eliminate the cistern in favor of either a fountain or a bath with living water. Justin, writing from Rome in 160, says that there must be enough water at baptism so that one can be washed. Hippolytus, also writing from Rome in 215, requires that the water be pure and flowing.

Tertullian, writing from North Africa after 195, approaches the matter more boldly, by saying that all water is made sacred by invoking God. For him, the waters of baptism become the waters of creation, pure and aboriginal. The Acts of Judas Thomas, written in Edessa, now Turkey, describes the baptism of Gundaphorus at a Roman bathhouse in the third century. (The bathhouse was closed for preparation seven days before the baptism.) The same source describes the baptism of Mygdonia at a fountain. Finally, the History of John, Son of Zebedee, written in 350 in Caesarea, has the most elaborate architectural setting for the act of washing. The baptism of Tyrannus takes place in the theater at Ephesus in a specially constructed cistern 22 inches deep.

The earliest literature does not conclude absolutely that a font is needed. Water is water, and almost any water is appropriate. But how does the water get its meaning? If fountains, amphitheaters, and Roman baths are all acceptable, is there anything in Patristic literature that makes water a symbol all to itself? Is it a sacred object?

Blessing the Water

If specific legislation required the use of fonts, then perhaps we could say that water is, in and of itself, a sacred object. There is no such text, however, and yet the water is meaningful. Its identity comes from two sources that are deeply interdependent: texts of blessing and theological descriptions of washing. And we know that once a blessing is proclaimed, no earthly matter may pollute it. It is simply pure.

As the Patristic age developed, references to a blessing of the water became more numerous. Neither the Didache nor Justin mentioned a blessing over the water. Hippolytus referred to such a prayer, but he did not describe it. Finally, Tertullian (in North Africa, c. 195) called it an invocation of God that brings the spirit upon the waters. Thus, the act of washing is the spirit washing, and the waters become the waters of creation.

Texts of blessing begin to appear about 350, in Serapion and Ambrose, for example, but also in the Syrian text of the History of John, Son of Zebedee. In the Syrian text, the scene is set in the large amphitheater in Ephesus, with the priests of Diana deserting the white marble temple for a newfound Christian faith. As the sun sets, they step forward, cutting a line across the open edge of the theater. John, the presbyter, calls down the Spirit of God on the improvised font, saying:

Glory to you, Father, Son, and Spirit of holiness, forever. Amen. Lord God Almighty, let your Spirit of holiness come and rest upon the oil and upon the water. Let these people be bathed and purified from uncleanliness; let them receive the Spirit of holiness through baptism. Yes, Lord, sanctify this water with your voice, which resounded over the Jordan and pointed out our Lord Jesus, saying, “This is my beloved Son.” Yea, I beseech you, Lord, manifest yourself here before the assembly who have believed in you.

After these words, fire blazed over the oil, and John took the priests of Artemis and washed them clean, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Spirit. Then bread and wine were brought forward.

This text opens many horizons for us. Its focus is not on the water and the oil per se, but on the effects of the acts of washing and anointing. Nevertheless, it is the water and the oil that is made, that is, identified. Moreover, the whole washing is public, which is not the case in our other sources; and finally, the washing relates to the ritual actions before and after it, especially to the Eucharist that follows the washing.

The basic meaning of the baptismal water in the History of John is that of a bath of purification and a gift of holiness. This view of redemption is as appropriate for the city of Ephesus as it was for the apostle Paul. The primary biblical type is the baptism of repentance and faith given by John at the Jordan.

This is not, however, the only identity given to the water in the Patristic sources. Theodore of Mopsuestia, speaking for the Church of Antioch in the fifth century, describes the blessing as an invitation to the spirit to give the water power of conceiving and becoming the womb of sacramental birth. This is a typical Johannine creation image and the second major interpretation of the act of washing: to be baptized is to be made new in the waters of rebirth.

We think of Adam, like Christ, asleep in the garden that God has made. In his sleep, Eve is begotten as bride and newborn, a child fed by Adam’s flesh and blood. Together, Adam and Eve are companions just as Christ and the church begotten in Christ’s flesh and blood are companions. This image describes a new beginning, gentle and fresh. It is the opening of one’s eyes to new creation and seeing the hand of God still smeared with the earth from which we came.

Creation, destruction, and new creation, sin, and death, forgiveness and resurrection, converge on the cross and death, burial and resurrection of the new Adam, Jesus Christ. These two approaches to the water are a convergence of Pauline soteriology and Johannine eschatology. Together, they describe the soul of the water.

The Act of Washing

After the blessing texts come descriptions of the act of washing. They are remarkably similar in the writings of Cyril, Ambrose, Chrysostom, and Theodore. After the catechumenate, the season of Lent and election, scrutinies and exorcisms, the rite at the font takes place. First, those to be baptized stand in an outer darkened chamber, symbolizing renunciation of the past. They face the west, the night, sin and death, and Satan; and they disavow them. They undress, and their whole bodies are anointed with rich oil.

Second, they are led gleaming to the pool and in the shimmering light of lamps, confess the faith and are led into the font step by step. There, guided by the hand of the deaconess or deacon, they are plunged into the dark cold waters and emerge three times. This is accompanied by a formula of baptism. They are then led out of the pool, anointed, touched, kissed, and fed.

What happens in this baptismal act is precisely what the prayer over the water invoked: a candidate is changed into Christ the crucified one and the new Adam. He or she is born again or transubstantiated.

Although the washing and anointing were pivotal points in the initiation process, they were not absolute. If death should come before the water, the catechumen or elect was still buried as a Christian. Further, to die as a witness to Christ replaced the baptismal washing absolutely, for martyrs are washed clean in the blood of the Lamb.

These texts for the blessing of water and the description of the rite were soon translated into architectural forms and images that we must now explore.

The Iconography of Fonts

Fonts in the East and the West had three similarities: they were essentially shallow baths, built for adults, and located in special rooms. In fact the Constantinian church plan was an assembly of rooms set aside for a variety of purposes.

The size of the fonts varied greatly. The smallest was 96 centimeters wide by 1 meter and 61 centimeters long; the largest, located at St. John Lateran, was 8 meters wide (approximately 25 feet across). The general depths were between 50 and 65 centimeters, about 24 inches. One font in Greece, however, was a full meter deep. No font seems to have been deep enough for total submersion, which means that the act of washing was an immersion.

The basic character of the fonts as baptismal baths is the primary and anthropological iconography of the font. The bath signifies a ritual place of washing, not because one is soiled but because one descends into the font having one identity and ascends from it with another. This datum is transcultural and archetypal; it is just as true of Qumran, the Ganges River, and the Taurobolion of Methra.

There is also a basic religious iconography associated with the decoration of fonts, which is what makes them Christian places of washing. The iconography of the fonts corresponds to the known prayers of blessing and popular homilies. Those prayers and homilies explored the passages concerned with water in the Hebrew Bible and applied them as parallels to the Jesus event. The recurring images are primarily concerned with creation, redemption, and purification.

Images of Creation

In general, the creation typology is prevalent in the Eastern church, which celebrated initiation at Epiphany. Redemption typology was preferred in Roman circles. The West celebrated initiation at the Paschal vigil or Pentecost. Purification typology is found in the East and the West, in Orthodox and Arian churches.

The creation typology makes baptism an act of returning to the origins of the earth. Because the font is the place of new creation, images of Christ’s incarnation are the demarcation point. Creation is glorified in the event and evil overcome. The new creation imagery is drawn from nature. Some of the specific images are taken from the Psalms, but other biblical sources are also apparent. Among these images are peacocks (as symbols of eternity); deer (slaying snakes and slaking their thirst); fruit trees, as in the Garden of Eden; the four rivers of Eden; Adam and Eve; stars (as a symbol of creation and of the covenant with Abraham); birds; and a baldachin or apse to symbolize the vault of heaven.

The creation typology prefers the circular font as a sign of new creation and birth, thus also affirming the long tradition of the circle as the symbol of fullness.

These creation images are found on many tombs, such as the Galla Placidia in Ravenna. Many churches also have a similar iconography.

Images of Redemption

The redemption typology takes its imagery from the cross of Christ and his entombment. The shapes of the fonts are often quadrilateral or even cruciform. Three steps lead into the font and three out of it so that the neophyte’s descent into the water parallels the three days Jesus spent in the tomb. Cardinal Danielou describes the descent into the font as a seven-step process. Three steps are taken in the name of the Trinity, and three represent the time in the tomb. The seventh step, the step out of the font, is the Sabbath rest God took at the completion of creation.

The deluge, Noah and the Ark, the dove, and the eight survivors of the flood also contribute to the redemption imagery. The number eight plays an important part: not only were there eight survivors for the new world, but also it was the eighth day, the day after the Sabbath, that Jesus chose to inaugurate the new era. This eschatology is clearly found in the eight-sided fonts in Hagia Sophia and St. John Lateran. The symbolism of eight sides also relates to the creation typology.

The six-sided font is also an image of redemption, for it represents the sixth day, the day of Jesus’ death, and the day God created man and woman. Further redemption images are the harrowing of hell, the crossing of the Red Sea, the slaying of the leviathan, the apocalyptic image of the throne, and the glorified cross.

Each image suggests a new era begotten in the waters of death and ushering in the last days. All that is evil has been overcome in the triumph of the cross. Satan flees, and all the heavenly hosts fill the sky with hosannas, for the Lord is risen and the people are set free as in the great Exodus.

Images of Purification

The third source of icons associated with baptism celebrates a purification typology. This imagery, crossing all architectural settings, is focused primarily on John’s baptism of Christ in the Jordan, a baptism of repentance and faith. To this scene are added the purification of Joshua coming through the Jordan as he enters the chosen land and Elijah who passes through the waters of Jordan before he is taken up in the fiery chariot. We also see this symbolism in the purification of Naaman, the leper, who is washed clean in the Jordan. At Ravenna there are two primary fonts with the Jordan scene, the Arian baptistery, and the Orthodox baptistery.

Guidelines for Our Practice

The architectural decoration of ancient fonts is an explicit iconography; it places the fonts within an intelligible framework. We must do more, however, than simply repeat the three sets of images. We must also try to retrieve the primary symbols. Thus, the baptismal bath is much more significant to us than the slaying of the leviathan. As authentic as the multiple images of creation, redemption, and purification are, they should be subordinate to the anthropological images of the bath and descent into the font. This is what the ancient church really cared about, the essential meaning of the font.

With one eye on the authenticity of the ancient experience and another on today’s needs, we can draw out a few basic guidelines for our efforts to revitalize our baptismal practice.

First, it is the act of washing, not just water, that carries meaning. We have tended to theologize symbols rather than experience them, in part because we accepted the Patristic era’s typology, but not its anthropology. The Patristic period was marked by the process of doing rather than the static realism that makes objects sacred apart from the rites that give them birth and sustain them. The act of washing, not water as pure symbol, is the bearer of meaning.

Second, we should look upon the washing as a public action focused on the individual. When the Roman church started celebrating baptism privately, the font became a symbolic “door to the sacraments” rather than a place of ritual action. The sixteenth-century reformers abandoned the locked basin at the entry in favor of simple bowls placed on or near the altar, thus permitting the presence of the assembly as a witness to God’s grace. So if we begin to look at the place of baptismal washing as a place of dynamic ritual and assembly, we will be appropriating the valid insights of the reformers.

Third, the act of washing should be seen in a wider constellation of rites, especially anointing and Eucharist. With the initiation rites of 1969 and 1972 dealing with the baptism of infants and adults, the Roman liturgy has once again placed baptism in its broadest ritual context. This emphasis on process and a wider constellation of rites comprising the sacrament of initiation stems from a Patristic theology that sees the bath as a generous gift of God. This could mean a balance between works and grace, or between process and gift.

Fourth, the shape, depth, and iconography of the font should support a basic theological understanding, namely that the act of washing is based on the full adult experience. When infants became the primary candidates for baptism, architecture responded to the practice and began to raise the fonts from the basins that sat on the floor to containers on pedestals because they were more convenient. In the Patristic literature, fonts are places of water that can be entered, places in which the adult’s coming to faith is the paradigm. Respecting this insight will call for dramatic changes in the architectural setting for baptism. Fonts will become baptismal pools rather than pieces of furniture.

Fifth, and finally, we must consider the location of the font. As I mentioned earlier, the Patristic period developed fonts in specially designed rooms. Today the location of the font is necessarily in a place of assembly, to accommodate our new awareness of the community’s role. We must look, therefore, for a public place. The two locations most frequently used are the sanctuary and the entry. I feel, however, that neither of these is the best solution to the problem.

If ritual is something to engage in and not simply to watch, we have a principle for locating the font apart from the sanctuary as it is presently conceived. Further, if the endpoint of worship is the Table, we have a principle for maintaining the stational character of the Patristic period. While this may not imply a separate room, it does require a separation. As for the second image of the baptismal font as “the door to the sacraments,” a font in the entry tends to eliminate totally the public character of the washing. Unless the entry allows for total community assembly, we have a symbol without a function. It is clear that we need deeper experiences of community ritual to reveal to us the best location for baptism “in the midst” of the assembly.

The Patristic evidence has silhouetted the wrong turns we have made in the past; it challenges us to probe the issue of the font as symbol of our identity. Most of all it calls us to move our focus from status symbols to process within community. The whole process of initiation is an interaction between individuals coming to the assembly and the assembly’s dialogue with these persons. The font and all the other symbols—words, gestures, objects, places—serve that holy process through which God comes to life in our love for one another.

Music in the Worship of the Early Church

Very little can be said with certainty about the music of the first three centuries of the church beyond texts used and liturgical forms followed. Judging from later music in the Eastern churches and in Gregorian chant in the West, the musical settings of these texts probably shared characteristics with much Eastern music, including tunes in various modes. Ecstatic song continued in the practice of the thanksgiving of the “prophets” in some early liturgies.

It is evident that a set pattern of liturgy emerged at a very early date. In a letter to the Corinthian church (a.d. 96), Clement of Rome included a long, noble prayer which is closely related to eucharistic prayers of later centuries; it also refers to the Sanctus (Holy, holy, holy, Lord of hosts … ), which was a common feature of both Jewish and early Christian worship. The Didache (c. a.d. 100) records that the Communion celebration was combined with a common meal (an agape or love feast) and that it was preceded by the confession of sins. It also gives the set prayers that were to be used, along with the encouragement to the “Prophets” to continue in prayer “as much as they desire” (Didache X, 7).

At about the same time, the pagan historian Pliny (Governor of Bithynia, c. 111–113), in a letter to the Roman emperor Trajan, referred to Christians as “meeting on a fixed day before daylight and reciting responsively among themselves a hymn to Christ as a god, and that they bound themselves by an oath not to commit any crime.… When they had performed this it was their custom to depart and to meet together again for a meal, but of a common and harmless kind.” The hymn mentioned may well have been one of the New Testament Christological hymns (such as Col. 3:16), or an extrabiblical hymn of the same type.

The Second Century

The first definitive worship order is contained in Justin Martyr’s First Apology (to the Emperor Antoninus Pius, c. 150) in which he describes a typical Christian worship service “on the day called the Feast of the Sun.”

The Liturgy of the Word

  • Readings from the Prophets, and “memoirs of the Apostles” (Gospels and Epistles)
  • Sermon (instruction and admonishing)
  • Common prayers (the congregation standing, all participating)

The Liturgy of the Eucharist

  • Kiss of peace
  • Offertory (Alms, bread and wine)
  • Prayer of thanksgiving (“at great length” and improvised “according to his ability”) followed by a common “amen”
  • Communion

The Third Century

Beginning with the third century, we have much more information about the practice of worship in the church. Primary sources of this information include the writings of Clement of Alexandria (d. c. 220), Tertullian (d. c. 240), and Cyril of Jerusalem (c. 313–c. 386). One of the most significant records is by Hippolytus of Rome (d. c. 236) in a Greek document known as The Apostolic Tradition.

The significant feature of this compilation is a complete eucharistic prayer which is suggested as a model for Christian worship, though each leader is encouraged to “pray according to his ability.” It is interesting to note that the prayer begins with the Salutation and the Sursum Corda, which were traditional Jewish forms long before they were used by Christians. The Sanctus (Holy, holy, holy) is not indicated, though it was in common use by this time. Music (psalms and hymns) are also not mentioned, but were undoubtedly included.

This then is the outline of worship as recorded by Hippolytus, including the biblical concepts mentioned in the eucharistic prayer (see R. C. D. Jasper and G. J. Cuming, eds., Prayers of the Eucharist: Early and Reformed, 2d ed. [New York: Oxford University Press, 1980], 22-23):

Liturgy of the Word

  • Psalms
  • Lessons
  • Sermon
  • Intercessory Prayers
  • Kiss of Peace

Liturgy of the Table

  • Offertory (the bread and wine are brought to the table)
  • Salutation (responsory, between leader and people)
  • The Lord be with you: And with your spirit.
  • Sursum Corda
  • Lift up your hearts: We lift them up to the Lord.
  • Let us give thanks to the Lord: It is meet and right.
  • Eucharistic prayer (thanksgiving)
  • Salvation history (the Incarnation; Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection)
  • Works of institution (“He took bread, and giving thanks, … ”)
  • Rememberance (Gr. anamnesis) (“Remembering therefore his death and resurrection”)
  • Oblation (“We offer to thee the bread and the cup, … ”)
  • Invocation of the Holy Spirit (Gr.epiklesis) (“We beseech thee that thou shouldst send thy Holy Spirit, … ”)
  • Doxology to the Trinity, with congregational amen
  • The Communion
  • Presbyter’s post-Communion prayer; people’s amen
  • Bishop’s benediction and dismissal

According to the presbyter’s closing prayer, the “Holy Mystery” was received, “not for guilt or condemnation, but for the renewal of soul and body and spirit.”

The Fourth Century

In the early decades after Christ, the Christian religion was practiced in secret, in adherents’ homes, or even in underground catacombs for fear of persecution by Roman authorities. Once the emperor Constantine decreed that Christianity should be tolerated throughout the empire (a.d. 313), the new faith spread like wildfire. It is evident that by this time Christian worship was already developed considerably. The Christian faith was now free to develop its practices openly and to record them in detail for posterity. Larger and larger buildings were erected for the growing congregations, and worship was organized and disciplined to meet the challenge. More and more of the activity (including some of the singing) was given to the clergy, partly to control the occasional outcropping of heresy.

We shall look at one more early worship form, recorded in the Apostolic Constitutions (a.d. c. 380). It is called the Clementine Liturgy, since the anonymous book is written “in the name of” Clement, Bishop of Rome at the end of the first century. From Books II and VIII of the Constitutions, this complete service may be reconstructed (see Ibid., 70–79):

The Liturgy of the Word

  • Scripture Readings (several, from Old and New Testaments, especially the Epistles and Gospels)
  • Psalms, interspersed with the above (some sung by cantors, some with responses by the congregation)
  • Sermons (by several of the presbyters)
  • Dismissal of the catechumens (those under instruction but not yet baptized), the possessed, and the penitents with a Litany and people’s response (“Lord, have mercy”)

The Liturgy of the Eucharist

  • Prayers of the faithful
  • Salutation and response (a Trinitarian benediction, or “The Lord be with you, etc.”)
  • Kiss of peace
  • Offertory
  • Washing of hands of the bishop and presbyters
  • Offering of the bread and wine and of alms
  • “Fencing” of the table (to forbid participation by the unworthy)
  • Robing of the bishop in “a splendid vestment”; he then makes the “sign of the cross” on his forehead.
  • The eucharistic prayer (Anaphora)
  • Sursum Corda (“Up with your mind … ”)
  • Preface: Thanks for all of God’s providence, beginning with creation, the provision of all things for life on earth, and the history of God’s dealings with his people
  • Sanctus (“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts … ”)
  • Thanksgiving for the incarnation and redemption
  • The words of institution: “For on the night he was betrayed, he took bread in his holy and blameless hands and, looking up to you, his God and Father, he broke it.… Likewise he also mixed the cup of wine and water and sanctified it.… Do this for my remembrance … until I come.”
  • Anamnesis and oblation
  • Epiklesis: “ … send down your Holy Spirit upon this sacrifice, the witness of the sufferings of the Lord Jesus, that he may make this bread body of your Christ, and this cup blood of your Christ; that those who partake may be strengthened to piety, obtain forgiveness of sins, be delivered from the devil and his deceit, be filled with the Holy Spirit, become worthy of your Christ, and obtain eternal life.”
  • Prayer of intercession (ten sections)
  • Doxology and people’s amen
  • The Lord’s Prayer
  • Bidding prayers led by the deacon, and bishop’s prayer
  • The call to Communion: “Holy things to the holy people” with response: “One is holy, one is Lord, Jesus Christ, to the glory of God the Father, blessed to the ages. Amen.”
  • Gloria in excelsis: “Glory to God in the highest, and peace on earth, goodwill among men.”
  • Hosanna and benedictus qui venit (Matt. 21:9): “Hosanna to the Son of David: Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord. God is Lord and is manifested to us: Hosanna in the highest.”
  • Communion, with the singing of Psalm 34 (“O taste and see that the Lord is good”)
  • Bishop’s thanksgiving for communion and intercession followed by prayer and blessing
  • Dismissal

It is apparent here that the Liturgy of the Eucharist was a highly significant part of public liturgy, although it may not have taken as long to perform as the Liturgy of the Word (with its multiple Scripture readings, a number of psalms, and several sermons).

A spirit of fear and dread connected with receiving holy Communion unworthily eventually discouraged worshipers from participation in Communion. Over the next few centuries, participation dwindled, and most people took Communion only once a year, as they were obliged to do.

The Church Year

In the most ancient expressions of the church’s worship, God is revealed through Scripture and sermon in the Liturgy of the Word, and in Communion in the Liturgy of the Eucharist. Furthermore, the macrocosm of God’s revelation throughout history is shown in the shape of the liturgical year recorded in the liturgical calendar.

In the West, the church year begins with Advent (starting four Sundays before Christmas), a time of penitence in anticipation of the coming of Christ, a time when believers remember God’s acts in creation, in the history of the Jewish people, and in the prophecies and the events leading up to Christ’s incarnation. Christmas (December 25) and Epiphany (January 6) celebrate God’s self-revealing in Christ; the first of these is undoubtedly related calendrically to the Jewish Feast of Lights (Hanukkah) and the Christian transformation of the pagan celebration of the winter solstice into Christmas. The season of Lent (forty days before Easter) beginning with Ash Wednesday, is a high period of penitence in preparation for Holy Week, recalling Christ’s forty days of temptation, and Israel’s forty years of wandering in the desert. Holy Week (Palm Sunday through Easter) follows the last days of Christ’s earthly ministry, including his triumphal entry, death, and resurrection. Easter is often called the “Christian Passover” (Pascha)because of its similarity to the Jewish holiday, revealing the Christian’s deliverance from the bondage of sin and death. Pentecost (a name taken directly from the Jewish festival of “first fruits”) commemorates the sending of the Holy Spirit and the establishing of the church; this event begins the second half of the church year. In this final season (called variously “The Weeks after Pentecost,” “The Season of the Holy Spirit,” “The Church Season,” “Ordinary Time,” or in England—where the season is reckoned from the Sunday after Pentecost, Trinity Sunday—“Trinity Season”) the emphasis is on God’s purposes for the church in this “age of grace” through the empowering of the Holy Spirit.

In each period and on each particular day of the church year, the Scripture readings (lections), the prayers, and the sermons are different to match the theological emphasis of that season and day.

Witness Music in The Early Christian Era

Post-biblical writings of the early church fathers suggest that Syrian (Antiochian) churches may have been first to develop a corpus of Christian hymnody. In the conflict over the teaching of Arius (c. 250–366), both orthodox and heterodox used popular hymns to support their arguments. In the East in northern Mesopotamia, Ephraem Syrus (born c. 307), so successfully advanced the anti-Arian cause that he was called “the cithern of the Holy Spirit.” In the West, Ambrose of Milan (c. 340–397) countered the Arian hymns with his own doctrinally pure texts. He also developed a simple, rhythmic, and syllabic chant that had strong appeal to the masses of unsophisticated worshipers.

Perhaps the only overt reference to musical evangelism in the early church is a statement about Nicetas of Remesiana (c. 335–c. 414), a missionary to Dacia (now part of Yugoslavia), who is given credit for writing the immortal Latin hymn Te Deum laudamus. Jerome (c. 340–420) says that Nicetas spread the gospel among fourth-century European pagans “chiefly by singing sweet songs of the cross.”

Planning the Flow of Worship

To enhance the flow of worship, a leader should work on acquiring the necessary skills. Of particular importance is learning how to master the timing of worship. Well-planned transitions help the congregation to sense the intended purpose of each act of worship. Included here is a detailed outline of worship designed to go with Isaiah 6:1–8—Isaiah’s encounter with God and the prophet’s subsequent call to ministry.

An important aspect of the planning and leading of corporate worship is the creating of a sense of meaningful flow from the beginning of the service to the end. A flow of worship that effectively engages the attention of the worshiper and facilitates meaningful participation can be attributed to several factors.

First, it may appear that the control of this aspect of worship lies solely in the ability of the leaders to provide spoken and musical transitions with spontaneity and a masterful sense of timing. As important as these skills may be, there is more to it than that. The effective handling of transitions is contingent upon the structure provided by an order of service that progresses in a logical manner, facilitating the expression of thought and feeling. A matter of primary importance is sensitivity to the leading of the Holy Spirit in both the planning and the leading of worship. The mastery of timing is an essential part of all temporal art, including the drama of worship. For example, there are times when the Spirit would prompt a relaxing of the pace or the repetition of a song to provide a sense of resolution or closure. We want to avoid moving through the parts of a service as if they were items on an agenda to be completed within a fixed amount of time.

The primary focus of this entry is the creating of transitions against the underlying structure of the service. The need for emphasis on transitions can be seen more clearly if we consider a basic difference that exists between a worship service and a gathering of people for a drama presentation. In worship, everyone has lines to speak or sing, not just those on the platform. Words of introduction and transition help the people sense the intended purpose of each act of worship.

To show how words can create a meaningful connection for the parts of an established order of worship, several examples are offered here. The paradigm selected for the structure of the service is the written account of Isaiah’s encounter with God at the time of his call (Isa. 6:1–8). God initiated the dialogue by revealing himself through worship (vv. 1–4). In contrast to God’s holiness, Isaiah saw himself as one who needed cleansing from sin, and he confessed his unworthiness (v. 5). In response to his act of contrition, God pronounced forgiveness (vv. 6–7). After this opening dialogue (consisting of revelation, confession, and forgiveness), God spoke to the prophet, and Isaiah responded. The opening part of the dialogue serves as the basis for a Service of Entrance, and that which follows forms the basis for the Service of the Word. Although this model is usually associated with worship in so-called “liturgical churches,” it may also structure worship that is freer in style.

Service of Entrance

Prelude Music. The service begins with an instrumental arrangement of congregational songs designed to (1) invite people to worship (e.g., “O Worship the King”); (2) express the corporate nature of the gathering and its need for the enabling power of the Holy Spirit (e.g., “Brethren, We Have Met to Worship,” “Spirit of the Living God,” and “Set My Spirit Free to Worship Thee”), and 3) draw attention to the object of our veneration (e.g., “Holy God, We Praise Your Name,” “I Adore You,” and “Fairest Lord Jesus”). An admonition, written or spoken, might be given to the worshipers to reflect on the words of the hymns listed as preludes (include the numbers of the hymns to be used on an overhead projector).

Hymn of Adoration. In addition to labeling the hymn according to function (Hymn of Adoration), words of introduction help to facilitate the desired focus of attention, for example, for the hymn “Fairest Lord Jesus,” we could say, “As we lift our hearts and voices in this song of adoration, may we see beyond the beauty of creation. Beauty was never intended to be an object of veneration, but he who creates and sustains is worthy of our praise.”

Prayer of Adoration. The theme of the hymn is carried forward in prayer: “Lord, God, you have spoken to us through your Son, Jesus, who is the radiance of your glory and the exact representation of your nature, who upholds all things by the word of his power. Truly, he is the Lord of creation, and we offer you, through him, all glory, honor, praise, and adoration. Give us eyes to see and ears to hear as you reveal yourself in all your splendor and glory, majesty, power, and redeeming love. Amen.”

Corporate Prayer. Confession and forgiveness are highlighted in a prayer such as the following: “We are not, by our own nature, worthy of you, but through your Son, who died and rose again, we are made righteous in your sight. Thank you for the assurance that if we confess our sins, you are faithful and righteous to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Hear, O Lord, the confession of each heart before you now” (silence). (The act of confession can be intensified through singing. After a moment of silence, the worship leader could invite the people to continue in prayer, seeking personal cleansing as everyone sings “Create in Me a Clean Heart,” or the first stanza of “Search Me, O God.” The service of confession concludes with a responsive reading and a hymn of assurance.)

Leader:     Thank you, Lord, for your forgiveness. In Jesus’ name,
People:     Amen!
Leader:     People of God, we are forgiven.
People:     We are forgiven. Thanks be to God!

Hymn of Assurance. Words of transition: “The truth that God has forgiven our sins must penetrate our hearts as well as our minds. As we sing of his marvelous grace, may each of us appropriate his forgiveness and receive rest for the soul.” The desired outcome of confession is forgiveness, a sense of resolution (denouement). It is helpful to reinforce this through a hymn (such as “Grace Greater than Our Sin” that facilitates the internationalization of the truth that we are forgiven.

Greeting. Between the Service of Preparation and the Service of the Word, the historic salutation may be used or it could be substituted with a welcome, followed by an encouragement to greet one another.

Service of the Word

Preparing to Receive the Word. If a hymn that is directly related to text and sermon is not available, a general hymn on the theme of God’s Word, such as “How Firm a Foundation,” is appropriate. If a special musical selection precedes the sermon, it should be related to the message.

Sermon and Hymn of Response. An opportunity for response to the proclamation of the Word is an essential ingredient of worship. The pastor’s introduction to the hymn at the close of the sermon is an effective means of assuring that the hymn’s function as a vehicle of response will be understood.

Offering. Although the receiving of an offering in the free church tradition usually occurs earlier in the service, a case can be made for including it later. There it would serve as another means of responding to the proclamation of the Word. (In the paradigm from Isaiah, verses 1–4 are revelation, and most of the concluding verses are response.)

Service of the Table

An example of a meaningful flow of worship is provided by the following excerpt from a Communion liturgy:

Leader:     The Lord be with you.
People:     And with your spirit.
Leader:     Lift up your hearts.
People:     We lift them up unto the Lord.
Leader:     Let us give thanks unto the Lord our God.
People:     It is meet and right to do so.
Leader:     It is meet, right, and salutary, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O Lord, Holy Father, Almighty, Everlasting God. Therefore with angels and archangels, and with all the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious name, evermore praising thee and saying:
Leader and people (spoken or sung):
Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of Sabbaoth;
Heaven and earth are full of thy glory;
Hosanna in the highest.
Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord;
Hosanna in the highest.

The above exchange of thoughts between the worship leader and congregation not only engages the worshipers in meaningful dialogue but also creates a sense of eager anticipation that finds fulfillment in the heartfelt release of worship in the singing of “Holy, Holy, Holy.”

Prior to the Words of Institution (1 Cor. 11:23–26), an instruction such as the following could enrich the people’s understanding of the breaking of bread as a symbolic act of worship:

As Christians in the early church broke bread and ate together, they did it “with glad and sincere hearts” (Acts 2:46). As we break bread from a common loaf, may we experience true joy and unity of spirit, as brothers and sisters in Christ. The common loaf from which we take and eat is a symbol of the unity we have in Christ. These lines from a first-century hymn may help us to see an added dimension to the breaking of bread:

Leader:     As grain, once scattered on the hillside, was in this broken bread made one,
People:     So from all lands the church be gathered into thy Kingdom by thy Son.

(The Didache)

Another act of worship that can be a meaningful part of Communion is congregational worship in song during the distribution of the bread and cup (or as the people go forward to receive Communion). In addition to uniting the people, this provides a means of releasing joy and other emotions that are integral to meaningful worship. Songs of praise and adoration may be combined with traditional Communion hymns. As the service of Communion ends, the joining of hands could contribute to a sense of oneness as a song such as “One in the Bond of Love” is sung.

Dismissal. A good benediction provides more than a sense of closure to the service. Prefaced by remarks drawn from God’s Word for the day, our going out into the world is given new meaning and purpose, for we are to be salt and light and extensions of his unconditional love for all humankind. Announcements pertaining to the work of ministry that continues through the days ahead may be included in the service of dismissal.

Things That Short-Circuit the Flow of Worship

A meaningful flow may be short-circuited by a number of factors, one being a lack of preparation with regard to logistics. All worship leaders (pastors, lay readers, musicians, and soundboard operators) should have a copy of the worship bulletin in advance of the service. The awkwardness of waiting for a microphone to be turned on can be avoided by noting when movement to the microphone is to occur. This is particularly helpful to less-experienced members of the ministry team.

Another factor that must be considered as an integral part of directing the flow of worship is the body language of the people on the platform. To avoid distracting the attention of worshipers from the significance of what is happening at each moment, all leaders must be attentive listeners.

A third factor is the thoughtful preparation of introductions to hymns, modulations, and other musical sequences. Without proper introductions and interludes, the worshipers cannot be expected to begin and continue confidently. The worship leader who rehearses musical transitions with the keyboard musician(s) will aid those who rely on their leadership.

Finally, an integral part of each of the above considerations is the matter of timing. A readiness or eagerness on the part of one who is about to move to the microphone could detract from the ministry in process, if that eagerness is expressed through body language. On the other hand, lethargic movements when the liturgical action calls for purposeful movement are, likewise, distracting. Audio cassettes and videotapes of services can be studied as means of assessing the effectiveness of our leadership. The senior pastor who values meaningful congregational participation in worship will need to provide opportunities for worship leaders to receive instruction in this important area of ministry. Effective leadership does not just happen. It is the result of prayer, study, planning, practice, and evaluation.

The Kerygma of the Early Church

The kerygma (preaching) is a summary of the preaching themes of the early church, based on the study of the sermons in the book of Acts. These themes, most visible in Peter’s sermon on the day of Pentecost (Acts 2:14–41), lie at the heart of the gospel:

The prophecies are fulfilled, and the new age is inaugurated by the coming of Christ.
He was born of the seed of David.
He died according to the Scriptures, to deliver us out of the present evil age.
He was buried.
He rose on the third day according to the Scriptures.
He is exalted at the right hand of God, as Son of God and Lord of the living and dead.
He will come again as Judge and Savior of men and women.

The Use of Kerygma in the Early Church

The Greek word kerygma means “that which is preached,” stemming from the root keryssein, signifying “to preach.” For the first-century church kerygma characterized the central power of the gospel. The essence of earliest Christianity was contained in the kerygma’s repeated proclamation.

The term kerygma appears in the New Testament eight times: twice by Jesus making reference to Jonah’s proclamation to Nineveh and six times referring to the apostolic preaching. The term most often has, as its object, the gospel, the glad tidings of the early church. While the word itself is not cited often, the kerygma (the gospel to which it refers) can be found throughout the Gospels, Acts, and the Epistles.

The message to which kerygma refers consisted of the basic evangelistic proclamations of the gospel that brought persons to faith in Jesus. It typically included elements enumerated as evidence of the truthfulness of the gospel. Certain events in the life of Jesus Christ were always present: first, that Jesus was the fulfillment of what was proclaimed by the prophets; second, Jesus Christ died on the cross and rose again; third, God has made Jesus Christ as Lord; fourth, Jesus would reign over a judgment to come; and finally, a call to repentance and an offer of forgiveness.

Whereas exhortation and Didache (teaching) had origins in the early church for instruction, the kerygma served solely as a public announcement that Jesus is the Christ in whom salvation is to be found. Modern preaching has become more exhortative and teaching in nature. In contrast, the early church reserved the moments of proclamation for the kerygma in order that men and women might be won to faith.

Of primary importance to the kerygma was the one who proclaimed. The Greek word keryx could be a town crier, an auctioneer, or a herald. Usually, the keryx would be someone given authority to announce that which was heralded. Also, the herald would draw public attention to the message. The keryx would bring an edict from another party sovereign over the subject matter. For the early church, the proclamation of the gospel in power was delivered by those worthy of its content.

Essentially, the Christian faith did not exist until there was the kerygma, the message to be believed and embraced. Nearly all of the New Testament relates to and expands on the meaning of the kerygma.

The Didache

The Didache probably represents the type of small Christian group that met in the region of Syria, perhaps outside of the city of Antioch. By the fifth century, this hilly countryside was dotted with small churches and baptistries, but in the late first century, there were probably no buildings specifically designated as churches. Christianity was still a proscribed religion, and the Christians of a village or rural area gathered after work. Although they did not necessarily meet in secret, they certainly did not publicize their gathering loudly.

Introduction

Sunday was a workday, and the Christians gathered after work for a potluck meal, known throughout the Mediterranean world as the agape, and for the Eucharist (literally, the thanksgiving), which was the ongoing celebration of the command of Jesus to break the bread and drink the cup in remembrance of him (1 Cor. 11:26). While the Agape-meal and the Eucharist were celebrated together, as early as the time of the Didache, Christian communities were distinguishing between the agape and the Eucharist, which was only for the baptized.

The description that follows is an imaginative reconstruction of what a first-century Christian service might have looked like. Many details of such a service remain unknown.

Text: We give you thanks, our Father for the holy vine of David your servant, which you have made known to us through Jesus, your servant. Unto you be glory forevermore.

Commentary: After a full day of work on Sunday, the Christians of a small Syrian village gather for their weekly meeting in the house of their wealthiest member. The generosity of this elder in their community has made it possible to fit all forty members of the community together in the large courtyard and adjoining great room, built like all Syrian houses with a long, walled courtyard running along the south side of the home. Individually and in family groups, the community arrives at the locked gate leading from the dirt road into the paved courtyard, being admitted after knocking at the door by one of the local elders who receive their contribution of food and wine for the meal to come. Each person stops first at the fountain in the courtyard, where they wash their hands, face, and feet, assisting those who are too young or too old to reach the water themselves. Making their way to the large room, the newcomers greet the other members of the community as they anxiously draw closer to meet the visiting teacher, an apostle visiting from the city of Antioch. Eventually, everyone crowds into the large room or along the covered portico, finding a cushion or rug on which to sit. Each group of eight or ten people is gathered around common pots of food, with baskets of flatbread which will serve as the dishes. At one end of the room, the visiting teacher sits on a cushion at a low table, talking with the host of the gathering.

Eventually one of the leaders calls the people to silence by intoning a psalm, which is sung alternating between the people and the leader. The words are known by heart to the gathered community. As the psalm draws to a close, the people rise, standing in prayer with their arms raised up.

Text: As this broken bread was scattered over the hills and then, when gathered, became one, so may your church be gathered from the ends of the earth into your kingdom. For yours is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ forevermore.

Commentary: After everyone has risen and stands attentive in prayer, the visiting prophet raises a large cup filled with wine and begins a prayer of thanks to God for the goodness of the earth and the gifts which come from God. The singsong chant, which provides the vehicle for the spontaneous prayer of the visiting teacher, is sung in the same way as the Jewish chants of meal blessings. He praises God for vines and vineyards and for the church, which is the vine grown since the time of David and revealed through Jesus. As he draws to a close, he hands the cup to the host standing next to him, resting his tired arms and signaling to the people to conclude the prayer with their sung consent to what has been done. Led once again by the same leader who began the psalm, the community sings the acclamation: “To you be the glory forevermore,” praising God with their own voices.

Text: Let no one eat and drink of your Eucharist but those baptized in the name of the Lord; to this, too, the saying of the Lord is applicable: Do not give what is sacred to the dogs.

Commentary: After the cup is returned to the low table, the visiting leader picks up a large loaf of bread and begins to chant a prayer over it, praising God for the goodness of the fields and the bounty represented by the loaf of bread. The single loaf of bread becomes a representation of the community gathered to pray on this Sunday evening. Like the grain which had once grown over the hillsides around their village and was then brought to a common threshing mill, they also have gathered in this meeting from various places and professions to become one worshiping community. The temptation to look around the room at this point in the prayer is always too great—it is easy to see in the variety of faces around the room the very image of the gathered church now being formed into a single entity. The prayer also calls the community to focus on the future; on that time when the church will be gathered together at the second coming for which everyone prays three times a day: “your kingdom come, your will be done.”

As the prophet lowers the bread to the table, the community again sings their consent to the prayer by acclaiming: “For yours is the glory and the power through Jesus Christ forevermore.”

Text: We give you thanks, O holy Father, for your holy name which you have enshrined in our hearts, and for the knowledge and faith and immortality which you have made know to us through Jesus, your servant. To you be the glory forevermore.

Commentary: The members of the community standing near the visiting teacher bring cups and plates to the low table and begin to pour the wine from the large cup into the smaller ones. Others break the loaf of bread into smaller pieces to fit on the plates. In later centuries, the presider would proclaim “holy things for holy people” at this point, but even in this ancient church, all those present are reminded by their very presence and participation that they are the baptized, perhaps remembering their own baptismal experience, which was most likely celebrated as an adult.

After preparing the bread and cup of wine, the leaders of the local community, men and women chosen to serve because of their faith, wisdom, and perhaps because of their suffering for the name of Jesus, begin to move among the gathered Christians, distributing the bread and the wine to everyone present.

After everyone present has finished the bread and wine, people begin to return to their cushions and rugs, gathering around the common food pots and bread baskets. When the leader invites all to eat, everyone begins with great gusto—it is getting late and those who have had very little to eat this day, especially the poor who depend on these potluck meals for sustenance, rush into the food. The business of eating and drinking quiets the talk for a while, but as the food disappears and everyone feels comfortably full, the noise level rises and the people share the problems and joys of the past week with each other. Gradually, the dishes are cleared and cleaned in the fountain outdoors, the crumbs are shaken from the rugs and cushions, and the attention of the community members focuses once more on the visiting prophet, who has been regaling those within hearing distance during the meal with tales of the Christian heroes of Antioch in the face of sporadic persecutions by civil authorities.

Text: Lord almighty, you have created all things for the sake of your name, and have given food and drink to all to enjoy that they may thank you. But to us you have given spiritual food and drink and eternal life through Jesus, your servant [or “child”].

Commentary: As the last of the dishes are cleaned and the last drop of wine is drunk (whether a specific “psalm leader” existed in the time of the Didachē is doubtful), someone signals to the people to stand, and the prayer stance of outstretched arms is again adopted.

Text: Above all, we give you thanks because you are mighty. To you be glory forevermore.

Commentary: The teacher continues the prayer of thanksgiving, focusing more particularly on God, revealed through the work and person of Jesus the Christ. Again, the gathered Christians are reminded of their own baptism, recalling the anointing with oil which “Christed” them, giving them the name of their adopted family. The response of the people, “to you be the glory forever,” rings through the room.

Text: Remember, O Lord, your church: Deliver it from all evil, perfect it in your love. Make it holy, and gather it together from the four winds into your kingdom which you have made ready for it. For yours is the power and the glory forevermore.

Commentary: The prayer continues, acknowledging the divine creation of all things, in contrast to the Gnostic groups who deny the goodness of creation and claim another god created the material realm. But the high point of the prayer is coming: In addition to all created goodness, God is now to be praised for providing the means to eternal life through Jesus. The spiritual food and drink which is the center of the Eucharist would be called the “medicine of immortality” by the bishop of Antioch, Ignatius, fifty years later. The seeds of his expression are already here in this gathering and in the prayer chanted by the leader.

Text: May grace come and this world pass away! Hosanna to the God of David.

Commentary: As this long prayer reaches its culmination, recalling the chants of great feasts in the Jewish calendar, God is proclaimed as mighty, and the confident acclamation of the people gives them courage and strength to meet the challenges of the coming week. If God is truly the Lord of all and they are part of God’s family, then surely they will be able to trust in God’s continuing presence regardless of what confronts them.

Text: If anyone is holy, let him come; if anyone is not, let him be converted.

Commentary: The prayer turns to petition for the church and for the return of Jesus. The prayer is expressive of the people’s identity as the church—not a building, but a gathered group of the baptized, formed into one body like the one loaf of bread. This part of the prayer also reminds people that the church is larger than their small community; it is all the small communities of Christians scattered in the four winds who are united in prayer on this day and will be drawn together on the last day.

This last part of the longer prayer of thanksgiving ends with the same acclamation, sung with more elaboration than before. As this acclamation ends, a series of acclamations are sung back and forth between the visiting apostle and the people, expressing the belief of all Jewish Christians that the promised Messiah had indeed come. The leader in turn sings, reminding all present that not only is peace among themselves necessary, but that the gift of faith is given to people when they least expect it, and that the gift of faith demands a response to God.

Text: Maranatha. Amen.

Commentary: The dialogue ends with the acclamation, “Come, Lord (Jesus), let it be so!” Even today in this congregation there were people who had known the disciples of Jesus, and one old woman who had even heard Jesus himself speak. Because of her intimate connection with God, she is revered as highly as any elder, and her prayer of “Maranatha” has special poignancy: She longed to see Jesus once again, just as she had as a young woman.

Text: But permit the prophets to give thanks as much as they wish. On the day of the Lord, come together, break bread, and give thanks, having first confessed your sins, that your sacrifice may be pure. But let none who has a quarrel with his companion join with you until they have been reconciled, that your sacrifice may not be defiled. For this is that which was spoken by the Lord: “In every place and at every time offer me a pure sacrifice; for I am a great king, says the Lord, and my name is wonderful among the nations.”

Commentary: At the ending of the prayer, the visiting teacher from Antioch begins to greet the members of the community individually, moving among the gathering, blessing babies, congratulating new parents, and especially welcoming the newly baptized. The local leaders of the community—those who gathered the food, saw to it that the widows and orphans were fed, and organized the weekly agape and Eucharist—move with the Antiochene apostle through the crowd, introducing him to the members. Some of the Christians embrace his scarred hands and arms, injuries received when he was imprisoned and tortured for refusing to deny Christ. His witness to the Messiah and his knowledge of Scripture, what later generations would call the Old Testament, make him a revered leader. When he leads the community in prayer, his spontaneous words, proclaimed within the structure of prayers inherited from Judaism, are recognized to be prophetic and true, representative of his faith and his personal experience of the Lord.

As evening turns into dark night, the members of the church begin to gather their children and belongings and prepare to go home. Tomorrow is another work day and it is getting late. The visiting apostle will stay the night at the home of the host, spending the next morning sharing news of the church in Antioch, such as the letters being read in Sunday gatherings in Antioch along with readings from Scripture, before moving on to a neighboring village where another group of Christians lives.

The cool of the night is filled with the quiet sounds of people whispering good night, and a single voice humming the melody of acclamation proclaiming that eternal power and glory belongs to God alone.