Friday, June 17, 2016

Hospitality in the Didache

                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.