Abstract
The Day of Pentecost is often called the birthday of the church. But what sort of an infant was it that was born on this day? It is clearly not one of the institutions that we call church today: the Baptist Church, the Methodist Church, the Church of England, the Church of Scotland, nor even the Roman Catholic or Orthodox Church. It is not only that the church that was born on the Day of Pentecost did not have any of these labels attached to it; it is that it had none of the paraphernalia of such an institution at all.
This church had no premises, no rule-books, no formal structures, no system of government, no liturgy, no distinctions of dress or address. It consisted of a group of apostles, whom Jesus had taught and trained, and a more diffuse band of followers gathered around them. The eleven apostles had restored the original number by electing a twelfth person from among the wider band of followers, one “who had been with them from the beginning, the whole time that Jesus had been going in and out among them”. (Acts 1:21) These Twelve were to be witnesses, in Jerusalem, in Judea and Samaria and to the ends of the earth, to the things that Jesus had said and done.
The larger band numbered about 120 before the Day of Pentecost and something around 3,000 after it. They were united, not by race or language, not by social status, age or gender, but only by the fact that they all believed in Jesus, had all been baptized in his name, and were all filled with the Holy Spirit as the apostles were.
It is probably inevitable, as the church grew and expanded both numerically and geographically, that the accessories of an institution should develop around it. The first structures of the church that appear later in the days of the Apostles seem to have been taken over, almost absentmindedly, from the structures of the synagogue: elders in every place, including Jerusalem, other officers for the more practical tasks, who were called διακονοι or deacons. Later still, it seems that by the second century the apostles or their successors had turned into geographical overseers or bishops, and that, by then at least, the church’s meetings had developed or adopted some liturgical structure. But on the Day of Pentecost all this was in the future: the church was not defined by any of this. So what did define it?
We find the answer at the end of this second chapter of the book of Acts. The chapter starts with the story of the Day of Pentecost and finishes with this description of the church. This is what the Holy Spirit gave birth to on that day.
They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. Awe came upon everyone, because many wonders and signs were being done by the apostles. All who believed were together and had all things in common; they would sell their possessions and goods and distribute the proceeds to all, as any had need. Day by day, as they spent much time together in the temple, they broke bread at home and ate their food with glad and generous hearts, praising God and having the goodwill of all the people. And day by day the Lord added to their number those who were being saved (Acts 2.42–47).
The first two defining characteristics of this Pentecostal church were their devotion to the teaching of the apostles and devotion to the fellowship. First and foremost they needed to hear and absorb the apostles’ teaching about what Jesus had said and done, what he had taught about the Kingdom of God, and the hope that God had birthed in them. That teaching eventually came to be recorded in the four Gospels for the benefit of the generations to come. For us, as for them, this must be the first focus of our life in the church.
The second focus of their life was the fellowship, the κοινωνια, translated by Dietrich Bonhoeffer as their ‘life together’. The content of this is spelled out further in the verses that follow: sharing their goods and possessions, especially with those in need in the church, worshipping together in the temple, and meeting and eating together in their homes. So the second focus of our church life should be life together, a life of meeting with one another, of loving and caring for one another, of sharing with one another and praying for one another.
It seems that at the beginning ‘the breaking of bread’ meant both the memorial of the sacrifice of Christ’s body and blood that he had commended to the apostles at the Last Supper, and at the same time the sharing of a common meal in each other’s houses. Prayers of thanksgiving and intercession were no doubt the accompaniment of all their gatherings together. Perhaps also we should not overlook the fact that at the beginning the life of the church was marked by ‘wonders and signs’ that confirmed the word that the apostles were preaching and teaching.
I cannot help feeling that, over the intervening 2,000 years, our focus in the church has shifted away from these early priorities and is now too much on all the paraphernalia of the institutions within which we live and which we serve: our premises, our rule-books, our structures, our systems of government, our liturgies, our distinctions of dress and address. Perhaps that is why other marks of that Pentecostal church have been lost as well: the awe that came upon every soul, and the addition to the church day by day of those who were being saved.
Perhaps we need to return in our churches to those original values, devotion to the teaching of the apostles and to our common life, to the breaking of bread together—in both senses—and to prayer. This might mean alterations to some of the patterns of our present church life, making the time not only to meet together in the ‘temple’ but also in our homes; spending less time at church meetings and more time eating together and sharing our daily lives with one another.
Who knows? We might then see more signs and wonders, and more people day by day being saved!