The Middle Class and Urban Mission

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by Robert Banks

Critics of middle class Christianity argue that intrinsically it prefers the status quo and does not possess creative possibilities. They maintain that authentic responses to urban mission can only come from those who have given up their bourgeois character or from those who live at the bottom of the social ladder. Some middle class Christians share this point of view. They have become class conscious and critical of their privileged position. They have developed a community focus rather than an individualistic or family-oriented one, and have identified with the poor and disadvantaged through their choice of residence and way of life.

I share the concerns of such people and am, in general, supportive of them. But I do not think they are correct in their insistence that we can serve God faithfully in the city only if we divest ourselves of our middle class character. It is one thing to argue that we should act in solidarity with those who are on the margins of society. It is another to assume that this requires abandoning membership in one's social class.

The view that we should do this is not new, even if its present form is relatively recent. But first a word about use of the term class itself. It is arguable whether we should use the language of class at all for any group before the early modern period. In general, class divisions arose in conjunction with the Industrial Revolution. Before then, the major differences between social groupings are more appropriately discussed in terms of status. In what follows, therefore, whenever I use the world class in a pre-industrial setting, I do so in an analogous rather than a literal sense.

Historical Antecedents

Socially conscious critiques of Christianity came to expression in the Peasant's War during the Reformation, among the Levellers at the time of the Cromwellian period, and through populist figures like Wilhelm Weitling in revolutionary Europe. (1) Marxist analyses of Christian origins, most extensively in the writings of Karl Kautsky, portrayed the early church as a movement of the oppressed and dispossessed that only later compromised itself with the establishment. (2) Certain scholarly interpretations of the early church have also emphasized its appeal to slaves, outcasts, and economically deprived groups in the first century. (3) In different ways, all these raise questions about the authenticity of any middle class form of Christianity.

How justified is this point of view? I would raise three groups of questions that may lead us to an answer.

1. Does it fit the picture we gain from the New Testament? What kinds of people were mainly attracted to Christianity, and who was it among them that had the greatest impact upon the first century urban world?

2. Historically speaking, is there an authentic urban legacy of Christians from groups that come from the center of the social ladder? Were they key agents of change or were they mainly preservers of the status quo?

3. Is it possible to be both middle class and radically Christian in urban mission today? What would this mean in practice, and where are the models to which one could point? In what follows I will look at each of these questions in turn.

Back to Beginnings

To identify the social composition of the first urban Christians, we need to look briefly at the main social groupings of the time. At the top, comprising only 1 or 2 percent of the population, were three sub-groups, namely, the Roman senatorial, landowning aristocracy, the non-hereditary equestrian class made up of business or commercial entrepreneurs, and local municipal authorities, such as magistrates.

Next, comprising less than 10 percent of the population, were intermediate groups who tended to be viewed as closer to those at the bottom than those at the top of the social scale. Placed here were minor officials such as tax collectors and prison wardens; artisans, tradespeople, and small landowners; and managerial or administrative slaves who belonged to wealthy and influential households.

Everyone else fell at the lower end of the social pyramid. These included freedmen who were unattached to a household, the large pool of urban day laborers, rural peasants, and, tenant farmers, and the majority of slaves, by no means all of whom were exploited and most of whom could expect to be freed by age thirty. (4)

It should be clear from this list that citizenship and slavery were not in themselves indicators of one's social level. A slave attached to a significant household had more status and power than a citizen with minimal or, worst of all, no household connections. The list also echoes what still exists in most Third World countries, where there is a small, generally weak middle class squeezed between a powerful, wealthy elite and a passive, sometimes oppressed majority.

Christians' Social Standing

In light of these findings, what was the social composition of the first Christians? If we look at Christ's male and female disciples in the Gospels, we find reference especially to fishermen, householders, and a tax collector. Economically, the last of these lay neither at the top nor the bottom of the social scale. Those who could afford houses were certainly better off then the bulk of the population, which could not. So far as several of the disciples were concerned, as Wilhelm Wuellner has pointed out, fishing in Galilee was a relatively profitable industry. This suggests that the disciples were people of more than adequate means, with social and cultural opportunities and not insignificant economic power. (5) Carpentry, Jesus' own occupation, also fell into this intermediate level.

In turning to Acts, we should not be misled by criticism of the disciples as "uneducated" or "unschooled" (Acts 4:13 NRSV & NIV). The word agramatta suggests only that they were not expertly trained in the Law. (6) In other words, they were lay people who had not studied at a graduate seminary! Confirmation that the apostles were not uncultured may be found in the quality of their written Greek. The first letter of Peter, for example, does not contain the typical colloquial Greek spoken at the time but is closer to that used in the Hellenistic synagogues. So far as Paul is concerned, his trade as a tentmaker and possession of Roman citizenship also point to a more socially acceptable background.

What about the Epistles? A good test case is the church at Corinth, since we know something of its composition. What we know appears to cut across what I wish to argue. According to Paul, the church was not made up of many that were "wise by human standards" or "influential" or "of noble birth" but instead of those who were "foolish", "weak," and "lowly" (I Cor. 7:26-29).

At first sight, this suggests that believers in that city came from inferior social groupings. Before jumping to conclusions, however, we should note that the comparison he draws is with higher class people, that is, with scholars and philosophers (I Cor. 1:20), local politicians and aristocrats (which is how we can translate the terms "influential" and "of noble birth"). in other words, he is not saying that there are not people in the congregation from an intermediate social level. Even those people are regarded as unlearned, lacking in power, and of low parentage by those at the top. Also, as his words "not many" indicate, at least some members of the church came from a socially higher background.

There is firm evidence for the presence of at least an influential "middle class" group in Corinth. Erastus is described as the city treasurer (Rom. 16:23) and was most likely a freedman of some wealth. Crispus was a ruler of the synagogue (I Cor. 1:14, cf. Acts 18:8), a position generally occupied by someone who had substantial private means. Stephanas is said to have owned a house (I Cor. 16:14f; ROM 16:12), which almost certainly points to the presence of slaves. Aquila and Priscilla were business people who also owned a house (Acts 18:3; I Cor. 16:5) in which travelers such as Paul stayed. In this connection compare also Titius Justus (Acts 18:7). Gaius' house was large enough to accommodate the whole congregation (ROM 16:23). The (degree of mobility some of these people and others in the church (1 Cor. 1: 11) possessed also tells us something about their financial resources. (7)

The presence of similar people elsewhere is not difficult to demonstrate. What we find at Corinth is duplicated in Rome, as the long list of names in Romans 16 reveals. The letters to the Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon indicate that masters as well as slaves were present in the churches to whom they were written, and again householders appear (Eph. 6:5-9; Col. 3:22-4:1; Phlmn. 2, 1, 16). Such slaves, as I have indicated, would have taken their status from the social level of the household in which they lived and would not necessarily belong to the lowest social stratum. Acts refers several times to the key role in the spread of the gospel played by wealthy apostles like Barnabas (Acts 4:36) or educated ones like Apollos (Acts 18:24-28). Also influential were socially eminent women, such as Lydia (Acts 16:13-15, 40) and others (Acts 17:4, 34), especially in the eastern parts of the Empire. The level at which the books of James and Hebrews is written indicates that their recipients were typically at home with professional, not vernacular, style of discourse.

Middle Class Core

All of this suggests that Christianity was not primarily a movement of the oppressed and dispossessed so much as one that possessed a reasonable cross section of society with an influential middle class core. There were, then, a substantial number of middle status people who played a significant part in the life and extension of the early church. They provided patronage and support for the apostles as they carried on evangelistic work in their cities (Acts 17:5; 18:3; ROM 16:1-5; Phil. 4:22; Phlmn. 22). They provided the places in which the church met and also most probably presided at such gatherings (ROM 16:5,23; 1 Cor, 16:19; Phlmn. 2). At times they left their homes and work to join the apostles in urban evangelism (Acts 18:18, 22; Col. 4:14; 2 Tim. 6:11, 19; Tit. 3:13) or in taking financial aid to an impoverished church overseas (I Cor. 16:3; 2 Cor. 8:23). They devoted themselves to the pastoral and practical service of the early Christians in a variety of ways (I Cor. 16:15-18). Husbands, wives, and sometimes single or widowed women - for example Phoebe, Numpha and others - (ROM 16:1-2; Col. 4:15; Phil. 4:2), were involved in such activities.

Alongside Paul and his colleagues, such people seem to be the major driving force in urban mission and expansion. In doing so, they were aiding and abetting the spread of what was regarded as a politically volatile and at times economically disruptive movement that frequently got them into trouble with the political, legal, or business establishment. They were also developing a broadly inclusive, participatory, and mutually supportive life in their Christian gatherings that was at odds with the elitist, hierarchical, and self-promoting way of life typical of the culture at large.

Though they were not revolutionaries in the literal sense - an approach for which there was not precedent or realistic basis in the ancient world - publicly and corporately these people were engaged in socially creative and ultimately subversive urban activities. Though not openly anti-establishment, their values and practices challenged those of the dominant culture.

Their contribution to overcoming strong ethnic, gender, and "class" (more strictly status) divisions, and their development of a new type of community involving a novel degree of personal, financial, and religious sharing, was radical in the deepest sense of the word. This is why, from the viewpoint of outsiders living at the times, they were responsible for "turning the world upside down" (Acts 17:6 NRSV).

Assessing the Legacy

During the last 150 years, some devastating criticisms have been leveled against middle class Christianity. Marx criticized it for its economic exploitation, Kierkegaard for its social conformity, Nietzsche for its moral servility and Freud for its sexual repression. We must acknowledge a significant degree of truth in each of these objections. But not all middle class Christianity has been of this nature. Certainly not all middle class Christians can be accused of these charges.

Unfortunately, these attacks have been too one-sided, failing to see the creative, at times radical, side of middle class Christianity. They have also often wrongly interpreted this phenomenon or expanded only corrupted versions of it. To clear the decks for a more positive appreciation of its urban impact, I want to briefly consider two of the most prevalent misunderstandings, namely, those connected with the "Protestant work ethic" and with bourgeois Christianity's alleged "domestication of women," both of which are said to have had strongly detrimental effects upon its public influence.

Characteristics of the first include a preoccupation with work, the valuing of everything in terms of its productivity, and the subordination of all other responsibilities to it. However, such attitudes do not have their roots in the Reformers nor, except secondarily, in the later Puritans. What is today defined at the "Protestant work ethic" is primarily a "post-Protestant" secularization of it. This influenced particularly those who were losing their basic identity in God and looking for something to replace it, as well as many faithful Christians who were vulnerable to changing cultural values. At the time, the dynamic, expansive world of work, especially with the proliferation of jobs in the cities, was most attractive. (8)

It was these nominalizing Protestants who began trying to justify themselves through their work and upward social aspirations. When loosed from all Christian constraints, this produced many of the evils of the capitalist system, e.g., the failure to recognize appropriate limits, the placing of economic values above all others, and the tendency to treat people as means rather than ends.

By contrast, the original Protestant doctrine of vocation gave secular activity a genuine religious dignity and made the service of others central to it. In so doing, it broke through the valuing of religious work or aristocratic leisure as the highest good and helped make our modern world possible.

At the door of early modem bourgeois Christianity is laid much of the relegation of women to the domestic sphere. It is blamed for idealizing women in a way that prevented them from discovering their true identity, and excusing their domination by men with Scripture. It is true that this form of Christianity did not - and because of its cultural circumstances could not - exhibit all of the marks of today's more enlightened attitudes. But it was undoubtedly progressive in terms of its own times.

The alleged idealizing of women was rather an elevating of women to a more respected and valued position than the subordinate one they generally occupied (the latter owing more to the legacy of continuing Greek rather than Christian ideas). This moved marriage increasingly in the direction of a genuine partnership and encouraged women to take up responsibilities in the wider community. Moreover, the home was a place where business was sometimes conducted, social action generated, and civic affairs discussed, as well as where children's education primarily took place. Middle class Christian women participated in all of these, as the activities of the anti-slavery group around Wilberforce strikingly shows. It was only as business, politics, and education were removed from the home that women's domestication developed. (9)

Urban Contributions

Clearing away some of the misunderstandings surrounding the most authentic forms of middle class Christianity opens the way to identifying some seminal contributions that both women and men have made in the cities in which they lived.

Institutions that Served the Needy

Deeply embedded in the best representatives of middle class Christianity was the principle of service to or care of others. At best these Christians had a vital concern to make Christianity "real" or, as we would say, "relevant" to others and useful to them. (10) At times this led to significant changes or novel developments in key urban occupations that had strong social ramifications. While examples could be taken from any of the last few centuries, the nineteenth century Victorian evangelicals provide an excellent case study. In his sometimes critical study of their social influence, Ian Bradley discusses the way these Christians intentionally moved into the major professions of the day - politics, the civil service, law, commerce, business, medicine - and brought in those notions of service drawn from their religious convictions. This significantly leavened these professions, turning them in a more humanitarian direction and developing their sense of social responsibility. (11)

So much do we take a service orientation for granted in the professions that we forget how relatively novel an idea it is. Even making allowances for certain degree of caricature, one has only to read the novels of Dickens to remember how members of certain professions operated in the last century. It is in the field of social welfare that the change in attitude can be most graphically documented. Welfare of one kind or another has been a feature of most societies, though in pre-Christian ones it was often sponsored to enhance the benefactor's social prestige and focused only on the so-called "deserving poor." During the last century, however, particularly throughout the English-speaking world, there was a growing awareness of all who were in need, especially in the cities, and a growing commitment to changing their social circumstances. In the vanguard of moves in this direction were middle class Christians, both women and men.

This led to the creation in the cities of an extraordinary range of voluntary societies covering the whole field of social deprivation and injustice. As Kathleen Heasmen concludes in her study of social activism among nineteenth century British evangelicals, "The most striking feature of evangelical commitment to the cities . . . [was] . . . its vast dimension." Indeed "it would be difficult to point to a need which was not catered for in one way or another. Societies dealing with children and young people vied with those helping the sick and the aged. There were organizations to cope with aberrant groups in society - the criminals, the prostitutes and the drunkards. There were others to make life more bearable for the handicapped. The sailor and the soldier and some other working men and women came in for their share; and finally there were the general missions which regarded few things as outside their scope of action." This " . . . was made possible by the surplus income in the hands of an expanding industrial society which was available for investment, and by the growing demand on the part of middle-class women folk for employment outside their homes. (12)

It is not going too far, she says, to suggest that the profession of social work and the basis of the welfare state were essentially middle class evangelical creations. The continuing legacy of this strong, deeply Christian notion of service is still with us today, as descriptors like "helping" and "caring" in relation to these professions indicate.

Unfortunately, however, when middle class Christians feel a call to "serve" God outside the church, they often assume that this can only be fulfilled in such professions. Two centuries ago, their counterparts responded to the call of God to ministry in daily life by considering and entering a much wider range of occupations. At its best, this quiet revolution brought considerable benefits to the needy and disadvantaged in society, in much the same way as the work of medical and educational missionaries benefited non-Western countries when they were first opened to the gospel.

Read part 2 of The Middle Class and Urban Mission

Robert Banks is the first to occupy the chair of lay ministry at Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California. He came to that post after a decade of working with lay institutes, occupational groups, and grassroots forms of congregational life. With his wife, Julia, he has co-authored The Church Comes Home: A New Basis for Community and Mission.

Footnotes
1. See my brief overview of these and other radical movements in "Revolution and Christian Radicalism", A World in Revolution?, ed. E. Kamenka (Canberra: ANU Press, 1970), pp. 71-89.

2. So K. Kautsky, Foundations of Christianity: A Study in Christian Origins, New York: Monthly Review Press, 1925 and more generally, the survey of D. B. McKown, The Classical Marxist Critiques of Religion: Marx, Engels, Lenin, Kautsky. The Hague: Matimis Mijhoff, 1975.

3. In scholarly circles see the earlier A. Deissmann, Paul: A Study in Religious and Social History (New York: Harper and Row, 1957), pp. 27-52 and more recently J. G. Gager, Kingdom and Community: The Social World of Early Christianity. Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1975.

4. There is a concise account of this matter in J. E. Stambaugh and D. L. Balch, The New Testament in its Social Environment (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1986) , pp. 110 116.

5. W.Wuellner, The Meaning of 'Fishers of Men' (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967), pp. 45-55.

6. On this issue see especially the nuanced treatments of A.J. Malherbe, Social Aspects of Early Christianity (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1983), pp. 29-59 and W. A. Meeks, The First Urban Christians: The Social World of the Apostle Paul (New Haven: Yale, 1983), pp. 51-73.

7. For the social composition of the Corinthian church in particular see g. Theissen, The Social Setting of Pauline Christianity: Essays on Corinth (Philadelphia: Fortress, 1982), pp. 69-120.

8. Refer to the brief analysis in P. Marshall, "Vocation, Work, and Jobs," Labor of Love: Essays on Work (Toronto: Wedge, 1980), especially pp. 12-15 (with which compare Lee Hardy, The Fabric of this World: Inquiries into Calling, Career Choice and the Design of Human Work [Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 19901, pp. 112-113), and his forthcoming detailed survey of this development.

9. See the suggestive comments in Peter Berger, The Capitalist Revolution: Fifty Propositions about Prosperity, Equality and Liberty (New York: Basic Books, 1986), pp. 98-99 and p. 238 n. 5 and also the opening chapter of the book by Robert Fishman below (note 17).

10. For one example see William Wilberforce, A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians, in the Higher and Middle Classes in this Country, contrasted with Real Christianity, 1829, reissued under the title Real Christianity Portland: Multnomah, 1982.

11. I. Bradley, The Call to Seriousness: The Evangelical Impact on the Victorians (New York: MacMillan, 1976), p. 156.

12. K. Heasman, Evangelicals in Action: an Appraisal of their Social Work (London: Geoffrey Bles, 1962), pp. 285-286, and see also pp. 292-295.

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The Middle Class and Urban Mission

God's Word

Urbana Stories

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December 27-31, 2009