Ancient Church Discipline: On Sin and Rehabilitation

Moral failings in the church are not a new phenomenon—to read the pages of Christian history is to see sin’s stain throughout.  The writings of the New Testament itself acknowledge this reality, exhorting Christians “to put away your former way of life, your old self, corrupt and deluded by its lusts, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds,  and to clothe yourselves with the new self…” (Ephesians 4:22-24, NRSV). But the exhortations didn’t always work, and church discipline is sometimes required which might lead to excommunication (Matthew 18:15-17).

In recent years, ecclesial moral failings have been especially prominent (though, likely no more common than the past) as numerous Christian leaders have been embroiled in scandals. So how should the church respond to sin? How should we conceive of the relationship between grace and justice amidst grave failings? The ancient church might provide a unique perspective on these questions which acknowledges the severity of sin while making a way towards full communion with the body of Christ.

Ancient Church Issues and Discipline

This myth that the early church was ‘morally better’ than the rest of us has been helpfully dismantled for us in Nadya Williams’ recent Cultural Christians in the Early Church (find a discussion of the work on the Anxious Bench here). They dealt with issues such as sexual sin, pride, and even violence. These moral failings sometimes led to excommunication, but repentance and rehabilitation was almost always allowed. Take for instance, this excerpt from Tertullian on repeated sin and the need for repeated repentance:

Let it by all means be irksome to sin again, but let not to repent again be irksome: irksome to imperil one’s self again, but not to be again set free. Let none be ashamed. Repeated sickness must have repeated medicine. You will show your gratitude to the Lord by not refusing what the Lord offers you. You have offended, but can still be reconciled. You have One whom you may satisfy, and Him willing. (Tertullian, On Repentance 7).

While all sins were to be repented for, there were certain sins—such as murder, robbery, or adultery—that automatically led to being removed from the church. Yet, after removal, most churches in the third and fourth century made rehabilitation possible through a process called ‘penitential discipline’. Take Basil of Caesarea’s discussion of how a repentant murderer might return to fellowship:

He who has committed voluntary murder and afterwards has repented shall not partake of the Blessed Sacrament for twenty years. And the twenty years shall be divided thus in his case. For four years he ought to weep as a penitent of the first degree, standing outside the door of the house of prayer and asking the faithful who enter to pray for him, confessing his transgression. And after the four years he will be received among the hearers, and for five years will go out with them. Then for seven years he will go out, praying with those in the rank of prostrates. For four years he will only stand with the faithful, but will not receive Holy Communion. However, after these have been completed he will partake of the sacraments (Basil, Letter 217.56).

Basil includes four steps in this process which takes two whole decades. As communion is the center of the worship service in this period, each stage allows for closer proximity to the eucharist (both physically and spiritually). The first is to come to the church, but not to step foot inside. To highlight the severity of such a sin, a penitent must continue to confess their sin to those entering the building and beg for prayer for four years. After this time, they are allowed to enter the church and listen to parts of the services as a hearer, but are unable to stand with other members. Next, they are allowed to stand among the members for a portion of the service as a prostrate (or kneeler) but not as a full member. Finally, they can stand as one of the faithful for the last four years, but they are not permitted to partake in the eucharist until the 20 years have passed.

Basil’s entire Letter 217 discusses repentance and rehabilitation from different types of sins, which calls for slightly different processes and varied lengths in accordance with their magnitude. Adultery, for instance, includes the same four steps as the murder, but it takes 15 years rather than 20. A thief who confesses their sin willingly is not allowed to take the eucharist for a year but has to wait two years if he is caught (i.e. does not confess willingly). The sin of denying Christ is treated the harshest in this letter, requiring one’s entire life to be spent in penance until their deathbed, when they are finally allowed to take communion again.

Getting to the Heart

All of these rules about sin and repentance are fairly systematic and allow for the later ideas of penance to develop in the medieval period (see: Meens, Penance in Medieval Europe: 600-1200). But importantly, there were different rules and time limits depending on the context you are in. On murder, for instance, Basil calls for 20 years of repentance, his brother Gregory of Nyssa recommended 27 (Letter to Letoius), and the Synod of Ancyra (Canon 22) called for lifelong penance.

But ultimately, this process was not about time spent or even the mode of repentance, as Basil clarifies—the rules themselves are secondary. If a penitent is earnest and devoted, a Priest might “show mercy to the extent of lessening the time of the penalty”, as “sacred Scripture makes known to us that those who do penance with greater suffering quickly receive the mercy of God” (Basil, Letter 217.74). The inverse is also true: “Not entirely by time do we judge these matters, but we give heed to the manner of the repentance. If men are with difficulty restrained from their own ways, and desire to serve the pleasures of the flesh rather than the Lord…there is no common ground between them and us” (Basil, Letter 217.84). The time and practices of penitence are meant to cultivate a life of humility and discipleship—if this end is not accomplished, they are not allowed back into the church. But if church discipline functions properly, it might even mean a reduced sentence apart from full fellowship.

The Spirit of Ancient Church Discipline

I do not think that reinstituting these canons or prescribed rules is necessary, but we should seek to learn from them as we consider how to address sin in our own context.  Perhaps we can look at three aspects of these rules which should be taken seriously as we are considering how to faithfully address sin as people of grace and justice.

First, ancient church discipline was public—it not only involved regular confession to others, but also visible changes of where you could be in the church.  If sin is wiped under the rug in the church, it festers like a disease without being treated. Confession challenges offenders to be truly humble amidst sin (it is humiliating for these changes to take place) but also reminds the body of Christ that we are just as likely to sin. Our privatization of confession has allowed us to hide sin, rather than address it head on in the open.

Second, it took a significant amount of time to be fully reinstated after a grievous sin. We sometimes view an apology letter or video as sufficient for rehabilitation, as if this church discipline is about confession or sin itself. But rehabilitation is a much deeper process; it moves from confession to repentance to patterns of discipleship which overcome sin and allow us to live as Christ commands. In other words, the ancient church acknowledges that the trespass committed is likely a symptom rather than the root issue of sin. Rehabilitation seeks to treat the issue itself, which requires time—perhaps far more time than we would normally consider. If these early Christians only allowed partial restoration to the body after four years of confession and five years of listening, we can only imagine their response to the full restoration of members after a few months and a letter.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, this requires the loss of all ecclesial power. For all Christians who have fallen, this means that they are not full members of the church (for at least a time) and are removed from participating in one of the most important functions of the church—the eucharist. For leaders, this likely means never being in ministry again. In the letter discussed above, Basil regularly specifies that those in leadership who fall are never to be returned fully to their office, as ones deposed without a way back (Basil Letter 217.70). This is not because early Christians are ungracious, but because they had a healthy understanding of the aims of rehabilitation. It is to full membership in the church, not to leadership in it. Pastors and leaders are foremost disciples of Christ and church discipline means the person, rather than the profession, is far more important. As leadership can become its own form of idolatry, a road to abuses and sinfulness on account of power, it is often wisest to disallow further leadership even after they receive communion once again. In this, we cannot move fallen leaders from one platform to another, allowing fallen leaders to restart their ministry elsewhere.

One of the greatest challenges of church discipline is the ‘balance’ of justice and grace. The early church met this by acknowledging the severity of sin, making the way back challenging, but offering a path nevertheless. In the extremes of today’s church culture, we have much to learn from them.