The Didache is a short catechism summarizing
the beliefs and rituals and structure of the Church, that may have been written
in the first century AD. It’s short, perhaps 3,000 words in English, shorter in
the original Greek; it is often presented in a chapter format, with 16
chapters; but each “chapter” is a single paragraph.
It
summaries the commandments under two headings, love of God and love of
neighbor. But the details do not follow any other familiar list. The section on
love of God includes many details from the Sermon on the Mount, and the section
on the love of neighbor overlaps the neighbor-oriented half of the Ten
Commandments. But it’s not a neat and tidy fit.
The
teaching on sharing is forceful. If someone asks you for something, give it to
them, and let it go! And don’t try to retrieve it! Because God wants us to
share the blessings that he has given to us.
Elsewhere:
You should be ready to give away what you have, as payment for your sins.
And
elsewhere: Don’t hesitate to give, and don’t damage the gift by complaining! Be
confident that you will come to know the true Giver of all good gifts.
And
elsewhere: share everything with your brother. In fact, don’t even assert
ownership! If you share imperishable and eternal gifts with your brothers, then
you should share the perishable goods in the meantime.
Some of
the teaching in the Didache starts
out familiar, then veers. “Don’t fast like the hypocrites,” it says. We think
we know where that’s going: the next line is, be discreet. Nope! “They fast on
Monday and Thursday.” Okay. What are we supposed to do? Fast every day? Fast
when we have sinned (every day?)? Fast more, three times a week? Less: once a
month? Fast before a feast? No, we should fast on Wednesday and Friday. No
explanation given. (One can perhaps surmise that the point is to imitate the
strengths of the Jewish Pharisees, but to develop and protect a separate
identity.)
The
call to love your neighbor is not quite as lofty as the Sermon on the Mount. It
divides people up in four categories: those we hate, those we try to fix, those
we pray for, and those we love more than life itself. Those we hate: ZERO.
Those we love more than life itself: that may or may not be a large group. As
to the middle two groups: there’s no explanation of the difference between them.
The Didache has much to say about itinerant
preachers. Much of it is simple and sweet: if they seem to be chasing money or
comfort, they are frauds. And the teaching about welcoming strangers appears in
this context – and indeed, it may refer specifically and solely to visiting
missionaries. If someone comes “in the name of the Lord,” make him welcome. But
what does that mean: “in the name of the Lord”?
The expansive
Hebrew concept of welcome for immigrants is not in the Didache. Instead, it says that if a visitor is just passing
through, you should take good care of this person – for two or three days. And
if the newcomer wants to settle down, that’s probably fine – if he has a craft
and wants to work. If he doesn’t have a trade, that’s a problem: Christians
should not live idle among you. Bottom line, with all visitors: use your
judgment. And the text repeats over and over: genuine prophets and true
teachers are entitled to support, like any workman, but watch out for frauds!
In sum,
the Didache calls eloquently for
great generosity – but within a small community. It isn’t clear whether the
text says anything at all about visitors other than preachers like Paul. What
is does say is very cautious, in marked contrast to its call for wide open generosity
within the community.
I have
argued that Scripture is full of passionate calls for hospitality for
strangers, especially those from another land. If I’m right, I will find it
reflected and explained in Patristic literature as well. So is it there?
Looking at one significant item, the Church’s oldest catechism, the answer is
clear: nope, not here.
Why
not? Three thoughts:
(1)
The Didache
may not reflect New Testament thought because it pre-dates Matthew – or, more
likely, was contemporary with the Gospels, starting to circulate among
first-generation Christians at about the
same time as the Gospels. Look, for example, at its description of the
Eucharist. It’s recognizable, unmistakable; and yet it’s also clearly not based
on the Gospels: it has the offering of wine preceding the bread. The author of
the Didache had heard the Sermon on
the Mount, in some version; but did not base his description of the Last Supper
on the Gospels. It’s a different strand of thought, a separate development.
(2)
Similarly, the Didache may not reflect the Old Testament because – perhaps – it developed
among the Greek Christians. I have no data to support that except that it was
written in Greek, and doesn’t have any references to the Hebrew Bible, nor any
echoes of it.
(3)
Just as Jesus and his disciples did not think
about how a nation should welcome immigrants, because they lived in an occupied
land, as strangers in their own land, so too the same may apply in the
communities that produced, used, and disseminated the Didache.
There is another significant insight to draw from the way
the Didache treats the matter of
hospitality. The teaching is encased in suspicion about false prophets and teachers.
In the 21st century, we are all familiar with hucksters presenting
themselves as evangelists and pleading for money. The Didache reflects a similar suspicion – but for them, it wasn’t just
about money. It’s clear that the frauds they saw in their time abused money and hospitality. Ancient stranger
danger! For them, the warning signs of fraud included excessive pleas for monetary
support – or for hospitality.
