In most quarters this trend toward uniformity in the second century was simply taken for granted. Practices with a century of tradition[16] behind them were practically treated as irreformable: “This custom has been handed down from the days of the apostles and consequently has the apostles’ authority behind it”. But even by the end of the first century the apostles were regarded as a wholly inspired group, who were the divinely appointed custodians and interpreters of the faith.[17] Hence, it was commonly assumed, they must have been unanimous in all things; what one apostle taught all apostles must have taught. All Christianity rests on a common norm of doctrine and practice that was delivered to the church by the apostles.[18]

It is this conviction that lies behind the Church Orders and that gives them their peculiar form.

The most obvious objection to this theory, naturally, was the very evident fact that approved practices in different localities varied considerably; these could not all go back to a common origin. And in minor matters, assuredly, second- and third-century Christianity tolerated or even encouraged[19] differences. But in anything regarded as important local divergences could lead to bitter conflict. When the second-century Asia Minor churches were asked to change their date for Easter, they replied, “We must obey God rather than men”, and a schism in the church resulted.[20] And in this clash apostolic authority was passionately claimed by both sides, with the constant premise that such authority must in the main lead to uniformity.

Yet there were definite limits to the process of unification. As the generations grew into centuries, the general “ethos” of the more important local types of Christianity acquired a venerable dignity that commanded respect even from churches whose customs were different. In major matters of practice, moreover, a substantial agreement had been achieved, and the churches were organized along the same main lines everywhere. So when any church claimed apostolic teaching in support of special usages of its own—and such claims were made frequently—it usually did so fully aware that other churches could make similar claims with equal validity, and that its special usages might very well have been different. This fact led to a revision of the theory of apostolic unanimity. The complete agreement of the apostles was now thought to extend only to doctrine and the vitally important rules of practice; in other regards each apostle within his own territory had established a use of his own—and each of these uses was equally legitimate. So Alexandria appealed to St Mark, Jerusalem to St James, Ephesus to St John, Rome to St Peter, and so on; in due course the far east was to appeal to St Thomas or St Thaddeus.

Such a theory was not entirely novel; Irenaeus, for instance, urged it in an unsuccessful attempt to settle the paschal controversy. But as local customs became fixed the theory was more and more invoked, and it finally became a settled principle throughout Christendom. The fourth century was here the definite turning point; when the ecumenical councils met, they made no attempt to legislate in full details for the whole church. So when the compiler of the Apostolic Constitutions ca. 375 revived the Church Order formula that made all the apostles legislate minutely, we may presume that he was consciously adopting a style that was already somewhat obsolescent; Christians by now were becoming aware that collective apostolic authority could not be claimed for so wide an extent of regulations. And this consciousness brought with it the eventual end of the Church Orders; they were replaced by explicitly local collections of canons and by liturgical service books. Yet in many parts of the church the old Church Orders retained their authority, and they were incorporated into the manuals of canon law.

The following are the chief Church Orders:

THE DIDACHE

As this work is familiar to everyone its contents need not be described. Most scholars date it in the early years of the second century, but the possibility that its compiler used the Epistle of Barnabas as a source cannot be wholly disregarded.[21] Barnabas is usually dated about 131, with a possibility of belonging some fifteen years earlier, so if the dependence is accepted the Didache could scarcely have originated before the second quarter of the century and may even be somewhat later.

The influence of the Didache in the early church was wide and it was held in high honour. It was incorporated into the Didascalia, the Apostolic Church Order and the Apostolic Constitutions. So eminent and orthodox a saint as Athanasius speaks of it as a book very profitable for neophytes “who wish for instruction in the word of godliness”,[22] and he cites it as an authority more than once, even though he—very properly—refuses to recognize it as a canonical New Testament writing.[23] There consequently can be no reasonable doubt that the Didache originated in the broad stream of orthodox Christian tradition, not in some obscure heretical sect.

Much the most convenient edition of the Greek text is that edited by Dr Hans Lietzmann in his Kleine Texte series;[24] it contains an excellent critical apparatus and is very inexpensive. There are many accessible English translations.