How did we get here? Contrary to the opinions of those who dismiss Christianity as “anti-thinking,” Christianity rightfully lays claim to a rich intellectual heritage. The Christian faith is neither blind nor unthinking in its nature. Every generation of Christians has to think through for themselves what God reveals in Holy Scripture about who we are, who our God is, where we come from, why we need a Savior, and what all that means for life here and hereafter. “The Christian religion is inescapably ritualistic…uncompromisingly moral…and unapologetically intellectual…For Christians, thinking is part of believing.” (xiii) 

With that in mind, Robert Wilken set out “to depict the pattern of Christian thinking as it took shape in the formative centuries of the church’s history” in his book The Spirit of Early Christian Thought: Seeking the Face of God. His goal was “less to describe how certain teachings emerged and developed than to show how a Christian intellectual tradition came into being, how Christians thought about the things they believed.” (xiv) Rather than a chapter-by-chapter history of the development of early Christian thought, Wilken addresses how the fathers addressed specific issues from the foundational and controversial to what all that meant for Christian belief, culture, and life. Though he cites many writers, he shows a clear preference for Origen (3rd cent.), Gregory of Nyssa (4th cent.), Augustine (5th cent.), and Maximus the Confessor (7th cent.). With an impressive style that is both scholarly and accessible, Wilken shines light on the early centuries of Christian thinking and its spirit of “seeking the face of God.” 

In chapter 1, the apologists Justin Martyr and Origen demonstrate how God is only known through the sacrifice of his Son, Jesus Christ. They demonstrate what WLS President Paul Wendland recently stated, “If I cannot see God at the cross, then I will truly find him nowhere.” (“Let God Be God: On Being Lutheran” 11) 

In chapter 2, Wilken dives into the worship life of the early Christians and how that worship took shape. Not only does he speak of prayer and liturgy, but also of how the sacraments were administered in the corporate worship setting. Wilken demonstrates well how the ancient maxim Lex orandi, Lex credendi (“The law of what is prayed is the law of what is believed”) first took shape. For example, trinitarian worship language impacted trinitarian thinking. “One reason Christian thinking is so resolutely trinitarian is that from the beginning the language of Christian worship was unequivocally tripartite.” (27) 

While there are valuable insights in this chapter, a couple areas of concern first appear that show themselves elsewhere in the book. Wilken is an ex-Lutheran who converted to Roman Catholicism.  He, therefore, readily embraces Roman Catholic views on the Lord’s Supper, tradition on par with Scripture, the veneration of the saints, and the allegorical interpretation of historical events in Scripture, particularly of the Old Testament. At the same time, he downplays teachings that we hold dear as confessional Lutherans, such as Sola Scriptura and the Holy Supper as sacrament rather than unbloody sacrifice. 

At times, the reader may also have some difficulty determining where Wilken’s narrative ends and his commentary begins. Rarely does Wilken disagree with the church father or the patristic argument. He also tends to make broad generalizations. For example, in chapter 2, he speaks of the practice of baptism. While it is true that adults were predominantly those baptized publicly in worship and immersion was a common practice in the early centuries of the church, Wilken goes too far when he states, “Baptism was a ritual for adults, not infants…” (37) or “Early Christians did not sprinkle or pour, they immersed,” (40) when biblical and historical records speak to the common practice of infant baptism and other methods of baptizing. 

Chapter 3, “The Face of God for Now,” is an intriguing chapter. Wilken demonstrates well the impact that the Scriptures had on Christian thinking, particularly in the fact that the Bible is unlike any other ancient book. With the help of Clement of Alexandria, he demonstrates that the Scriptures are a “book about Christ”—a real Savior who lived in a real time and place among a real people in real history who can be found on every page of Scripture. 

He also strongly embraces the view that allegory was an “inevitable” hermeneutic of Scripture. While one can understand why early fathers like Augustine and Origen would prefer allegory and one can acknowledge that there is room for typology as imagery and events point to the coming Christ, Wilken does use the fathers’ strong preference for allegory to push back on the unus simplex hermeneutic that seeks to find the simple sense of the biblical text. (69ff.) Despite these hermeneutical concerns, Wilken does help the reader to see what connection the Scriptures had to early Christian thought. “Because the words and images of the Bible endure, they provided scaffolding on which to construct the edifice of Christian thought. The Bible was, however, more than a platform on which to build something else, and biblical interpretation was not a stage on the way to the real work of thinking. Thinking took place through exegesis, and the language of the Bible became the language of Christian thought. Christian thinkers returned again and again as to a bountiful spring from which, says Ambrose, flow ‘rivers of understanding, rivers of meditation and spiritual rivers.’” (77) 

While Wilken does not delve deeply into the doctrinal controversies of the early centuries of the Christian church, chapters 4 and 5 address Christian thinking regarding the doctrine of the Trinity and the person and work of Christ. Origen, Hilary of Poitiers, and Tertullian come into play in the pre-Chalcedon discussions about the plurality of God, while Maximus the Confessor and Cyril of Alexandria step up in the post-Chalcedon discussions about the person and work of Christ, particularly in response to Monothelitism. 

In chapter 6, the Cappadocians, Basil of Caesarea and Gregory of Nyssa, are brought in to speak to the matters of creation and anthropology—what God has created and our place in that creation. Nevertheless, Wilken seems to agree with those who deny a six-day creation and argues that the church fathers would agree with him. “The idea of a sequential creation is unintelligible to reasoned inquiry, whether the inquirer be a Christian bishop or a Greek philosopher. The church fathers knew that the account in Genesis could not be taken literally.” (144) 

The second half of the book focuses on what all of this means for the Christian life as lived in love for Christ and neighbor. Origen and Augustine speak to the reasonableness of faith in chapter 7. Chapter 8 provides a brief look at Augustine’s famous City of God and what all this means for believers living in fellowship with one another and in relationship with the society around them. Considering the breadth and depth of that particular work, this is largely an excellent chapter. 

Chapter 9 is a fascinating look at an area not often studied among us—the development of early Christian poetry and hymnody. Prudentius, a rather obscure father, receives a worthwhile introduction. Chapter 10 focuses on the development of martyrology, icons, and the veneration of the saints. Lutheran readers will push back on how favorably Wilken presents the veneration of the saints. Wilken does present the iconoclasts (anti-icon/imagery) and iconodules (pro-icon/imagery) well and demonstrates how they both pushed too far in either direction. He does speak to a proper and spiritually healthy understanding of art, but unfortunately slips into Roman Catholic or Eastern Orthodox views of piety regarding imagery. 

In the last two chapters, Wilken explores morality as “the imitation of Christ” (Chapter 11) and the “affections” or “passions” (Chapter 12). In both chapters, one can see how early Christian thought on these subjects will be further developed by medieval Christian thinkers like Thomas á Kempis, Thomas Aquinas, and the Scholastics.  

In the end, The Spirit of Early Christian Thought is a unique book. This is not a typical patristic history text. Wilken does accomplish his original goal “to show how a Christian intellectual tradition came into being, how Christians thought about the things they believed.” I would certainly wish he had been more willing to push back on the individual fathers that he used to present Christian thinking on a particular subject. As I read the book, I found myself often pushing back on Wilken’s apologetic for what will eventually grow into Roman Catholic theology and practice. To that end, do I recommend this book for the busy Lutheran pastor? If you have interest in patristics or the development of Christian thought, this book may serve as a fine reference work with the various caveats stated above. As for finding a spot on the bookshelf of the average parish pastor, I hesitate to give a full-throated recommendation.