Why the Early Church Was Actually Radical

When I first began studying the cultural context of Paul's letters, I thought I was simply doing good exegesis—understanding the historical background to better interpret Scripture. What I discovered was far more unsettling: the Roman world that shaped the New Testament was built on a system of unchecked male privilege so extreme that it makes our modern discussions about patriarchy seem tame by comparison.

Understanding this context doesn't just help us read the Bible better—it reveals just how revolutionary the early church actually was, and why the Romans found Christianity so threatening.

The Shocking Reality of Roman Sexual Ethics

In my doctoral studies, I've been diving deep into the sexual ethics of the Roman Empire, particularly as they relate to Paul's extensive discussions about sexuality in Romans 1-3. What I've learned has been both eye-opening and disturbing.

Free Roman men operated under a sexual ethic that would horrify us today. They had virtually unlimited sexual access to anyone they considered beneath them in the social hierarchy: slaves, women, young males, even children. What we would now recognize as sexual abuse, they called recreation.

The key to maintaining one's "man card" in Roman culture was simple: control who touched your body. Free Roman men could touch others, but no one was permitted to touch them without their consent. This wasn't just about sex—it was about power, dominance, and social status.

Meanwhile, women existed under completely different rules. If a woman participated in sexual activity outside her marriage covenant, she faced divorce, abandonment, social disgrace, or worse. The double standard wasn't subtle—it was codified into law and social custom.

This creates a picture of a society where men had virtually unlimited power over other people's bodies while women had virtually no power over their own. It was patriarchy in its most extreme and abusive form.

The Revolutionary Nature of Early Christianity

Into this context comes Jesus, who consistently elevated the dignity of women, children, and the powerless. He allowed women to follow him, to fund his ministry, and to be the first witnesses of his resurrection. He said, "Let the little children come to me" (Matthew 19:14, NIV) in a culture that viewed children as barely human. He declared that anyone who harmed a child would be better off with "a millstone hung around their neck" (Matthew 18:6, NIV).

Then comes Paul, a Jewish man who by all cultural expectations should have despised Gentiles, women, and children. Yet after his encounter with Jesus, he's planting churches with them, calling women his "co-workers" (Romans 16:3, NIV), and declaring that in Christ there is "neither male nor female" (Galatians 3:28, NIV).

No wonder the Romans were appalled by Christianity. A second-century critic named Celsus complained bitterly that Christians should be "despised among all of Rome" because "they let women and children and slaves into their ranks." What he meant as an insult reveals the radical nature of the early church.

If the early church wasn't genuinely egalitarian, why would Roman critics mock them for including women in leadership? The historical evidence suggests that Christianity was far more inclusive and egalitarian than we've been taught.

Paul's Subversive Strategy

Understanding Roman culture also reveals the brilliance of Paul's strategy. As a Roman citizen, Paul had significant privilege and protection. Yet throughout his ministry, we see him consistently laying down that privilege rather than wielding it.

When Paul is beaten and imprisoned, he doesn't immediately invoke his citizenship rights. He allows himself to be treated like a slave—which in Roman thinking meant he was giving up his "man card." He's choosing to be identified with the powerless rather than asserting his power over them.

This becomes especially powerful when we understand the Roman sexual ethic. By allowing people to "put their hands on him"—to beat him, imprison him, mock him—Paul is deliberately violating the Roman definition of masculinity. He's demonstrating a completely different understanding of what it means to be a man.

Only when he's about to die does Paul finally say, "By the way, I'm a Roman citizen" (Acts 22:25-29, paraphrased). And everyone panics because they realize they've been treating a citizen like a slave. But Paul doesn't use this revelation to gain power over others—he uses it to take the gospel to the highest levels of Roman authority.

Paul's masculinity wasn't defined by his ability to control others but by his willingness to lay down his life in love. He was modeling a Jesus-centered masculinity that stood in stark contrast to Roman machismo.

The Pattern of Laying Down Privilege

This pattern of laying down privilege rather than asserting dominance runs throughout the New Testament. Jesus "did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant" (Philippians 2:6-7, NIV).

The early church was filled with people who had given up significant privilege to follow Christ. Roman men gave up their cultural right to dominate. Wealthy women used their resources to support the church rather than living in luxury. Masters began treating slaves as brothers and sisters.

This wasn't just nice theology—it was a lived reality that turned the Roman world upside down. The church offered a community where your value wasn't determined by your position in the social hierarchy but by your identity as a beloved child of God.

Modern Applications: What This Means Today

So what does this mean for us today? If Paul's strategy was to lay down privilege rather than assert dominance, what might that look like in our context?

For men, it might mean:

• Recognizing and voluntarily laying down cultural advantages rather than defending them

• Using positions of influence to lift others up rather than maintain personal power

• Defining masculinity by the capacity to serve and protect rather than control

• Supporting women's gifts and callings even when it challenges traditional power structures

For all of us, it means recognizing that God's Kingdom operates on completely different principles than the world's empire-based systems. In God's Kingdom, the way up is down. Leadership means service. Strength is expressed through laying down your life for others.

The Ongoing Revolution

The early church was revolutionary not because it overthrew the Roman government but because it demonstrated a better way of being human. It showed that relationships could be based on mutual honor rather than dominance hierarchies. It proved that communities could flourish when everyone's gifts were valued rather than suppressed.

That revolution is still ongoing. Every time we choose mutual submission over power struggles, we're advancing God's Kingdom. Every time we use our privilege to lift others up rather than keep them down, we're following Paul's example. Every time we define strength by our capacity to love rather than our ability to control, we're living out the radical vision of the early church.

The Romans were right to be threatened by Christianity—not because it was weak, but because it was powerful in a way they couldn't understand or control. It offered a vision of human relationships so beautiful and compelling that people were willing to die for it.

That same vision is available to us today. The question is: are we willing to be as radical as the early church? Are we willing to lay down our privilege, challenge unjust power structures, and demonstrate that there's a better way to be human?

The world is still watching. And just like in Rome, they're deciding whether what they see in us is worth the cost of following Jesus.

Blessings,
Susan 😊