The Story of Christianity: Volume 1: A Study of the Early History of Christianity

Justo L. González’s The Story of Christianity: Volume I – The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation is, without a doubt, the best book on church history I have read so far! As a graduate student at Houston Christian University pursuing a Master of Arts in Theological Studies (MATS), I have encountered many historical works, but González’s ability to make church history both accessible and engaging sets this book apart. González masterfully traces the development of Christianity from its earliest beginnings through the medieval period, leading up to the Reformation. His writing is clear, compelling, and deeply informative, making complex historical events easy to grasp without oversimplifying their significance. He does an excellent job of highlighting key theological debates, cultural influences, and the role of major figures such as Augustine, Constantine, and Thomas Aquinas. One of the things I appreciate most about González is his ability to write history with a global and inclusive perspective. As a Latin American theologian, his insights offer a refreshing and much-needed balance to the traditionally Eurocentric narratives of church history. This perspective makes the book even more enriching, providing a broader understanding of Christianity’s growth and diversity throughout the centuries. This book is not just for scholars—it is for anyone who wants to understand the roots of the Christian faith. Whether you are a student, pastor, or layperson, The Story of Christianity: Volume I is a must-read. González’s work has been invaluable in my studies, and I highly recommend it to anyone looking for a comprehensive, readable, and insightful exploration of church history.

I'm not sure I'd call this "crisp," as one reviewer termed it, because it is a very detailed, 500-page blow-by-blow account of just about every detail of early Christianity from heretics to monks, all the popes (and anti-popes), ecumenical councils, the first atheists, Gnostics, church architects, the Crusades (in excruciating detail), origin of the word "pagan"...whew! I actually picked this up as a library discard somewhere thinking it would be a great way to study up on the Council of Nicaea and other early councils which determined the official canon. But as it happens, I just kept reading on through this (mostly) fascinating 500-page academic treatise that runs through the Spanish and Portuguese colonizations in the 1500s. Although this seems to have a Catholic slant seeing as how it ends at the dawn of the Reformation (the author is Methodist), the book is fair-minded throughout in its treatment of everything from heresies to New World slavery abominations. Fascinating high points: The original atheists? Since Christians worshiped an invisible God, pagans often declared them to be atheists (47). “Death to the atheists!” (54). Meanwhile, the word ‘martyr’ originally meant “witness.” Most conversions were made by anonymous Christians whose “witness” led others to their faith, with the most dramatic form being suffering unto death (115-16). Widows. The term, within the church, came to refer not only to a woman whose husband had died but any unmarried woman supported by the community (114). Roles of women. “In many Gnostic circles women had a prominence they did not have in society at large. It is quite possible that it was partly in response to this feature in Gnosticism that orthodox Christianity began restricting the role of women in the church, for it is clear that first-century woman had roles that the 2nd century began to deny them” (73) Pagan (paganus) originally had nothing to do with religion but was used to refer to an uncouth, rural person. (117) — just as later OE ‘heathen’ originally referred to someone who was a "dweller on the heath”; one inhabiting uncultivated, untilled or desolate land. The fish was one of the earliest Christian symbols, based on the Greek word ICHTHYS—an acrostic for the initial letters of ‘Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior’ as well as representing the miraculous feeding of the multitudes. (117) Persecution. The last and worst persecution broke out in the early 300s (303-311 CE) under emperor Diocletian (121-124) Monasticism. Although there were early monastics throughout the Roman Empire, it was the deserts—esp. the Egyptian deserts—that provided the most fertile soil for the growth of monasticism. The word ‘monk’ is derived from the Greek monachos, “solitary.” The word ‘anchorite’ (a solitary monk) originally meant withdrawn or even fugitive” (164). In some areas of Egypt, there were twice as many women monastics as men (166). Clerical celibacy (Leo IX 1049-1054 CE). While celibacy had been practiced for centuries by many, “fired by monastic example, reformers made this one of the pillars of their program” (331) Crusades (1090's-1270). Under the leadership of Saladin, Sultan of Egypt, the Muslims took Jerusalem in 1187, leading to the 3rd Crusade led by three sovereigns: Richard the Lionhearted (Eng.), Frederich Barbarossa (Holy Roman Emp), and Phillip II Augustus (Fr)…which failed miserably, as did the 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th and 8th (pp 350-351). Romanesque vs Gothic architecture (381) “The earliest Christians did not consider themselves followers of a new religion. All their lives they had been Jews and they still were.” Thus, not a denial of Judaism but a conviction that the messianic age had finally arrived. (27) With Paul we have the Hellenistic Jewish Christians serving as a bridge to the gentile world, who were joining in such numbers that they soon overshadowed the earlier Jewish/Christian community. (27) Humble folk: The vast majority of Christians during the first three centuries belonged to the lower echelons of society, or at least did not fit well in the higher ranks. They were considered ignorant folk in the kitchens, shops and tanneries (per Celsus, 2nd-century Greek philosopher and opponent of early Christianity.) That is, a despicable rabble (105) or “humble folk” (117). “False martyrs” (aka the “spontaneous”) — those who ran forward and offered themselves for martyrdom (55). Martyrdom was supposed to be something for which you were chosen by God (150) Did you know there were once 3 popes! (instead of just 2). At the council of Pisa in 1409 the cardinals of both “parties” (Rome and Avignon) were weary of the current 2 popes’ refusal to negotiate. Rather than trying to determine the rightful pope, the council declared both unworthy and they were deposed, at which point they elected Alexander V. But the other 2 refused to acknowledge and so there were 3 popes. A year later Alex died and the cardinals elected John XXIII (who was later deposed and declared to be an “antipope” (408, 417) Two John XXIIIs, the first in 1409 CE. He was ruled illegitimate, thus leaving the way open for a second XXIII (1958-1963) (p 408)...though one wonders why a 20th century pope would want the name of a deposed, non-Roman resident. Barbarians, Vandals, Byzantines, Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Burgundians & Franks (400s-700s). Arians (aka the Burgundians) rejected the essential and eternal divinity of Jesus (269f) Private (“auricular”) confession to a priest originally developed in Ireland (274) English becomes the language of the Courts in 1362, and then the primary language of elementary schools (412) “burnings of vanities,” 1490s: Savonarola’s program of reformation reaches a high point. Great bonfires came to take the place of the pre-Lent carnival. A great wooden pyramid was built in the main square—people then placed their “vanities” on the steps: “dresses, jewelry, wigs, ostentatious furniture and the like” (423). Also known as the “Bonfire of the Vanities” in 1497 Florence, this is the origin of 1987 satirical novel by Tom Wolfe. Overall: this is well-written, well-sourced and quite readable -- full of fascinating historical details, though you'll have to wade through a lot of very detailed material on nearly every aspect of Christendom to get through.

This book is not a theological treatise, but a history, told in story form, of Christianity. And while I do not identify with the Christian church, I am a very old student of life and the world and there can be little argument that Christianity has, since its beginning, been one of the most powerful institutional influences on the world. Understand how it evolved and you might have a better understanding how we, as a global humanity, got to where we are today. Mission accomplished. Justo Gonzalez’ incredibly well researched narrative, told in a matter of fact, neutral voice (or as close to neutral as one can get given the subject), was entertaining to read and enlightening to process. (And I will be processing it for a long time to come.) If you are interested in the theological side of the story I believe you would find it equally informative, although it will take an open mind. Gonzalez covers all sides of the story, warts and all. I daresay that the history of Christianity is one of the least studied histories outside of a narrow segment of the theological community. (Gonzalez is a retired professor of historical theology.) Non-Christians, perhaps, see it as strictly a theological story while Christians, perhaps, are inclined to see the study of theologies outside of that which they have been taught as somehow irrelevant or, at least, compromising. Having read the book, however, I am inclined to believe this is a book we should all read, regardless of religious identity. For starters, it’s fascinating. I am, above all else, a philosopher and found myself marveling at the philosophical implications of the story at every turn. (And there were more turns than you can imagine.) What were they thinking and how did they get to the point of such extreme conviction that they would lead impoverished, lonely lives in the desert? The writing is very good and the author clearly knows his subject. The names of people and places are not familiar to most of us. The timeline (i.e., 1500 years) is expansive for a 500-page book. And it is organized into topical chapters (e.g. The New Order, Eastern Christianity, Movements of Renewal), so the book does not follow a strict timeline. The resulting back and forth introduces, and then reintroduces, several characters. Taken together, these attributes are not conducive to a “quick read” although it is not laborious in the sense that many scholarly texts can be. Nonetheless, I found it helpful to keep an electronic tablet nearby for quick access to Google when I sensed I had lost the thread. (What was Neoplatonic mysticism again?) One of the things that struck me the most about the story is that the theological debates that occurred within the early church can seem a bit tortured by today’s “popular” theological standards. How does one reconcile the trinity? How can Jesus be both divine and human at the same time? How did he get that way? And how can we answer those questions without sacrificing the incarnation, the resurrection, and his saving of humankind? They aren’t the types of questions most Christians wrestle with today, but they are at the heart of what all Christian denominations now believe and teach. A related observation was the degree to which reason and philosophy was an integral part of the story of Christianity and popularly entertained and debated. Formal reason, of course, has been largely eliminated from public discourse today, and I have to wonder if that has not contributed to both the secularization of Western culture and the increasingly polarized and emotional nature of our politics and public discourse. As is always the case, the history of Christianity is not a one-dimensional story. It is a multi-faceted story that involves political power, vast amounts of wealth, more than a little corruption and scandal, lethal oppression, and, of course, faith and theology. And it is almost impossible to sort out what facet had what influence. Those influences, moreover, ebbed and flowed in importance over time. The Buddhists refer to “dependent origination”, the idea that nothing exists in isolation. We can understand many aspects of reality but can never know it completely, meaning that all reality must be interpreted in context. That is no less true of Christianity than anything else. That context, however, is fluid, more akin to energy than matter. That is both the reason we cannot always learn from history and the reason we must study history to fully understand where we are today. This book, in the end, is a book about context. And whether you are interested in Christianity or just understanding the world around you, the context it explores is important. It’s also a fascinating story. What else can a reader ask for?

All Christians owe it to themselves to become familiar with the history of the church. To this end, Dr. González's The Story of Christianity will serve well. It is written in clear-to-understand language and covers all the major turning points in church history from the end of the New Testament to the Protestant Reformation. I bought the book after a trip I took to Europe rekindled my interest in church history. I found it a fresh and candid look at the history of the church. Dr. González explains the evolution of thought and organization within the church and objectively discusses challenges the church faced, both from without and within. He also explains how episodes in the Christian story influence how we think today. For instance, he writes in the introduction... Like it or not, we are all heirs to this host of contradictory witnesses. Some of their actions we may find revolting, and others inspiring. But all of them are part of our history. All of them, those who actions we admire and those whose actions we despise, brought us to where we are now. That said, there are certain sections where the book goes into great detail and others that receive short shrift. One example is the Eastern Church. While there are chapters devoted to the church in the east, following the fall of Rome, the narrative is mostly devoted to the western (Latin) half of the church. While figures like St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Francis, John Huss, and the various Kings and Popes, are discussed at length while, other than a short nod towards St. John of Damascus, not much is said of church figures in the east such as St. Maximos the Confessor, St. Sophronius of Jerusalem, Saints Cyril and Methodius, St. Theophylact. Or, the development of orthodox spirituality ... the theology of icons, orthodox soteriology, eschatology and so forth. We are told that, after the fall of the empire in the west, the Byzantine half of the empire continued for nearly a thousand years. Yet, not much is said about those thousand years. To be clear, Dr. González’s book is the history of the church from a western perspective. Another subject that Dr. González seems to downplay is the importance of miracles in the church. One rather glaring example of this is his recounting the martyrdom on St. Polycarp where he completely omits the part of the story where Polycarp’s body is protected from the fire... The fire took the shape of a vaulted room, like a ship’s sail filled with wind and made a wall around the martyr’s body which was in the middle, not like burning flesh, but like gold and silver refined in a furnace. Indeed, we were conscious of a wonderful fragrance, like a breath of frankincense or some other costly spice. (from St. Eusebius’ History of the Church) Another occasion where Dr. Gonzalez disparages the miraculous is in his take on the so-called apocryphal gospels where he cites some of the miraculous accounts as being ridiculous. This attitude towards the miraculous seems to underpin González’s writing throughout. Whether Dr. Gonzales believes in miracles or not, is not the point. He’s entitled to believe what he wishes. However, to not give these accounts their due consideration, is to push an important aspect early Christian life to the margins. All this said, I would recommend the book. It reads very easily – not in theologian-eze. I was not having to look up a word on every other page. I would also add that, in the last section, there’s quite a lot of good information on the Catholic church in the new world during the time of the early Spanish explorers. I learned much.

I usually don't read event-by-event history books because I find them boring. Instead I prefer biographies. However, in the "Story of Christianity vol 1" Justo Gonzalez unfolds dense history in a way that's accessible, exciting, and inspiring. Throughout the book Gonzalez sets a foundation of events, then loops back over them thematically. In most history books the parade of names and dates washes over me. But Gonzalez has an engaging approach where he does a flyover of a timeline, then returns to zoom in. For example, he gives us an overview of the church during the first few hundred years then tells the story of the martyrs of the church, and the Church Fathers, and worship practices, ect. Sometimes the same name or event will come back up, each time with more context and color. Gonzalez's history has the drama and energy of a great movie. I recognize in his writing the scriptwriting techniques of cause, conflict, and consequences. For example, he doesn't just name the great teachers of the church and explain their doctrine. Instead he tells us what caused them to write the way they did, how their philosophies contrasted with each other, and how their hermeneutical approaches still impacts the church today. This is my second Justo Gonzalez book. I also have his fantastic commentary on Luke. He is the best writer of any Christian scholar I've read. Not only do I recommend "The Story of Christianity" but I will likely read many of his other books. I look forward to picking up: 1. "Worship in the Early Church" 2. "Teach Us to Pray: The Lord's Prayer in the Early Church and Today" 3. "Christian Thought Revisited: Three Types of Theology" 4. "A Brief History of Sunday: From the New Testament to the New Creation" 5. "The story of Christianity vol 2"

Back in the 1960’s and 1970’s those of us studying Church History depended upon the splendid Penguin History of the Church series for an orientation to the almost two-millennia sweep of Christianity. Now, a half-century later, it is intriguing to look at the story with the advantage of five decades of fresh research. Justo L Gonzalez’s The Story of Christianity: The Early Church to the Dawn of the Reformation [2010] is both a refresher for us Penguin champions now in our senior years as well as an excellent introduction to Christianity’s story for those whose religious education never progressed past sixth-grade Confirmation and the sixth commandment. If you are conditioned to “hate history,” [perhaps from education’s tendency to “teach for the test”] then Gonzalez’s style and content might change your mind. “The Story of Christianity” is the presentation of history best enjoyed on a quiet evening in a generous leather seat with a brandy or cigar at hand. History finely written is a pleasure to embrace, even when its narratives take us to unthinkable tragedies and outrages. Even details and numbers capture us: did the Black Plague really kill 1 of every 3 Europeans? How do you feed 120,000 Crusaders without starting a second war? This volume [as well as its companion, from the Reformation in 1517 forward] is the story of the Christian experience in a narrative that is informative and rarely overwhelming. We discover, for example, that with a few notable exceptions such as St. Paul, the first centuries’ proliferation of Christianity depended less upon charismatic missionaries as true anonymous word of mouth believers, particularly in the lower echelons of Roman society. [“Nameless merchants and slaves” who transversed the empire, as the author puts it.] Christian fraternity and solidarity—particularly the custom of the agape or love meal—were the characteristics that won new admirers and perplexed many Romans, who tended to view Christians as “low life.” Except for the Emperor Diocletian’s broad persecution in the late third century, Roman harassment of Christians was sporadic, regionalized, and at times eccentric. Gonzalez presents the development of Christian theology and creed in a manageable narrative as the Church defended itself from a variety of external and internal assaults upon its sacred treasury of belief, most notably the humanity and divinity of Jesus defined by the first Church council, Nicaea, in 325 A.D. The most enduring doctrinal crisis of the first millennium was “Arianism,” which, briefly put, denied that Jesus is “of the same substance” as the Father, i.e., that he is God. Arian thinking did not deny the unique mission of Jesus on earth, which is why this errant trend had a long shelf life, including among many of the “barbarian” settlers in the Western Roman Empire who were converted by Arian missionaries. It is clear from this text, and other contemporary works, that historians have been very busy over the half century since I went to school. Gonzalez highlights the discoveries of the “desert mothers” who prayed, worked, and wrote as contemporaries of the “desert fathers,”—those who sought to escape the mediocrity and madness of the later Roman Empire from the fourth century. He continues to highlight the richness of later feminine monastic life parallel to the male orders, and on down to the grassroots independent mystical communities of the late medieval era that marked the democratization of religious experience and exasperated and threatened a male church governance fragmented and running on fumes by the 1300’s. It was this explosion of lay spirituality, known as the Via Moderna, which produced the classic text The Imitation of Christ. Gonzalez provides a steady narrative of the major events of the Christian era, through the fall of the Western Roman Empire and the corresponding emergence of the East, the rise of Islam and the crusading response, the Eastern break from Roman hegemony, the development of the Holy Roman Empire with Charlemagne, the Hundred Years War, the Black Plague, the Avignon Papacy, and the Western Schism of three popes, to cite several. Each subject, of course, remains the object of ongoing study, and this volume will hopefully inspire newcomers to Church history to break off into specific readings on such compelling episodes as the Fourth Crusade or the rise of Ferdinand and Isabella. The author, who has a three-volume history of Christian thought among his completed works, provides insightful descriptions of the medieval thinkers and the universities they raised. Anselm, Abelard [with Heloise, of course], Albert and Thomas Aquinas all get their due, though it is mildly amusing to see William of Ockham, of “Ockham’s Razor fame,” bringing up the medieval decline portion of the narrative. Overall, Gonzalez captures the early Renaissance shift in philosophy and anthropology from a systematic and other-worldly exercise to a subjective celebration of human experience and destiny. The bridge from Ockham to the modern era’s Descartes becomes intelligible. Gonzalez concludes this volume with a lengthy narrative on the Spanish and Portuguese ventures to the East. Although commercial motivations were the initial driving force, the success of both nations in the Western Hemisphere and the Orient raised major ecclesiastical questions. Columbus, for example, originally wondered if he had stumbled into a primordial Eden when he landed in Hispaniola. Just as the Reformation in Europe was taking shape, the Church wrestled with the religious nature of indigenous peoples [did they have souls?], missionary outreach, national jurisdictions in the New World, and moral questions involving slavery and the destruction of existing cultures. It goes without saying that the subject matter of this historical survey is organically connected to Christian/Catholic life today, in part because we are still looking for solutions to yesterday’s questions. But for a Christian, this work is a family history: we carry the religious genetic codes of this narrative in our individual and communal being. In studying Church history, we discover ourselves.

If I want to read about the history of any religion, I stay far away from several loud-mouthed, exaggerated atheistic rhetoricians. Yes, they often have some very solid criticism of the flaws of religion, but their viewpoint is far too myopic and anemic for someone that wants a more even-handed, objective approach to history that doesn't condescendingly exhort you to share their opinion. Much like another favorite religious history writer of mine, Karen Armstrong, Justo. L. Gonzalez has a very sobering view of the history of Christianity. In a way, his view of history is complementary and telescopic, in that it presents the real moral complexities and nuances that existed in the early part of Christianity's intriguing history. Again, do not be fooled by the premise of this book! This can be safely read by agnostics, like myself, or really anyone that is sick and tired of the uncivil tone and dismissive way people discuss religion these days, whether it be the reductive fundamentalists or belligerent new atheists. There is always real scholars-the calm, collected ones- like Justo L. Gonzalez that takes any willing inquisitive reader's hand and guides you through the complex landscape of Christianity's history with very clear, instructive prose. I highly recommend this book to any of us that want to learn, without feeling hounded by a writer seeking to convert us to a certain opinion. This is a wonderful resource for strong-minded, independent scholars, willing to think and ponder things more deeply than our "talking head," shouting match" media landscape that has made discussing religion in an interesting, meaningful way possible.

Easy read