A little while ago, I came across an interesting article by a new Fuller professor in New Testament, David Downs. Downs came to us from his PhD program at Princeton Theological Seminary, where he wrote the article, “‘Early Catholicism’ and Apocalypticism in the Pastoral Epistles” (Catholic Biblical Quarterly 67, no. 4 [October 2005]: 641-661). For my class on the history of NT scholarship, I have to write a paper surveying a particular topic in the history of scholarship and I’m thinking about something within apocalypticism. Seems like Downs’ article is a good starting place.

What was the deal with apocalypticism in the early church? Where did the “apocalyptic mindset” of the early Jews and the early followers of Jesus come from? One theory posits that the early Christians (if we can call them that) increasingly set aside their radical apocalyptic fervor as the church developed more structure. It’s a bit like ABC’s Lost. Some people desperately want to get off the island, to get rescued, and will try anything (build a raft, make a huge S.O.S. sign) to accomplish that. Other passengers from Oceanic Flight 815 are more “realistic” about their chances for rescue and decide to set down roots and get comfortable (build a church, set up a kitchen on the beach).

Apocalypticism, the idea that there is a coming cosmic transition and an accompanying judgment of people by God, was common amidst early Jewish texts into the first century C.E., when the early followers of Jesus picked it up. “Early catholicism” (from the German Frühkatholizismus) refers to a growing inclination towards hierarchical church structure, distance between clergy and laity, establishment of a biblical canon, emphasis on sacraments, and a diminished apocalyptic expectation of the immediate return of Christ (the parousia). Some scholars think that traces of such “early catholicism” in the church can be found within the New Testament, particularly the Pastoral Epistles (those being 1 Timothy, 2 Timothy, and Titus).

At this point, David Downs would like to question a few established assumptions:

To what extent do these letters exhibit the primary feature of early catholicism, namely, a diminished apocalyptic worldview? Or, in short, are “early catholicism” and “apocalypticism” mutually exclusive categories? Is the dawn of the former necessarily tied to the eclipse of the latter? (644)

In other words, is it really such a simple transition from heightened apocalyptic anticipation to a more settled, structured ecclesiology? And is “transition” even the correct word? Can we truly characterize these two emphases as moving along a progressive continuum from one to the other?

First, Downs points out that “[o]ne could hardly imagine a religious group in the ancient (or modern) world simultaneously more apocalyptic and more highly structured than the Dead Sea sect” (648). In the Jews represented by the Dead Sea Scrolls, one finds both structure and fervor. Apocalypticism is seen in various places:

The ideas that the Qumran sect appears to have shared with—or, more likely, inherited from—the apocalypses include: (1) the belief that divine mysteries have been revealed to members of the community (1QH 9:21); (2) the perception of communion with the heavenly world, particularly angelic figures (1QM 7:5-6; lQSa 2:3-9; 1QH 11:20-23); (3) an affinity for the periodization of history (CD 2:9-10; 4Q552-553); (4) a strong dualism, possibly influenced by the Enochic tradition (1QS 3-4; 1QM); and (5) an eschatology shaped by the conviction that the last days have begun but are not yet completed (CD 4:4; lQSa; lQpHab 7:1-14; 4Q174). [649]

Hierarchy is seen, for example, in the Community Rule (e.g., 1QS 5:20-23, 6:2-3). Downs uses the Qumran community to show that “apocalypticism and institutionalism are not mutually exclusive categories” (651). Therefore, we should not see “church order” in and of itself as an indicator for diminished apocalyptic fervor.

On the other hand, Downs mentions earlier Dibelius and Conzelmann’s Hermeneia commentary on the Pastoral Epistles in which they conclude that the letters have an “ethic of good citizenship” in their attempt to fit into the Greco-Roman culture. 1 Timothy 2:1-4 is a classic demonstration of this:

First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for everyone, for kings and all who are in high positions, so that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity. This is right and is acceptable in the sight of God our Savior, who desires everyone to be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth.

The idea here (at least as the author writes it) is to be good citizen, so that your countercultural behavior might not hinder the spread of the gospel. We certainly don’t see such a desire in the Dead Sea Scrolls. I wonder if an increasing acceptance of Hellenistic culture and desire to be good Roman citizens can be an indicator of diminished apocalypticism, even if institutionalization cannot. If a group embraces their surrounding society and culture, what reason do they have for desiring the world to end?

And before getting into Downs’ assessment of the letters themselves, I’ll leave it there for the day.