Discussion Questions

Dean Taylor says Antiquity is meant to “drive into the source” (Christ and the apostles) and warns against “geeking out on Justin and Origen.” What signs would show that a group’s interest in the fathers has shifted from reaching the source to admiring the intermediaries, and what would repentance look like in a study culture like ours? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What clues show a group is more impressed with the church fathers than trying to get back to Christ and the apostles? If that happened in our study culture, what would real repentance look like?

How does the lesson’s insistence that Scripture is the “sole infallible source of authority” function as a critique of later dogmatic claims (e.g., mandated image veneration, Mary’s sinlessness/assumption), and what would it force us to do with doctrines we hold that feel “obvious” but are hard to demonstrate from Scripture? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If Scripture is the only source that cannot be wrong, how does that challenge later teachings like required image veneration or Mary’s sinlessness/assumption? What should we do with beliefs that feel “obvious” but we can’t clearly prove from Scripture?

Dean quotes, “Tradition is the living faith of the dead; Traditionalism is the dead faith of the living,” then tells the story about being “allergic to old books” as a kind of spiritual protection. Where have you seen “traditionalism” masquerade as faithfulness, and what practices could keep a church’s appeal to tradition alive rather than museum-like? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Where have you seen “traditionalism” look like faithfulness when it’s really just keeping old habits? What could a church do to use tradition in a living way instead of treating it like a museum?

Alastair McGrath is quoted describing tradition as a “filter” that makes us ask, “Why have Christians not believed this before?” How should that question reshape the way we evaluate modern movements, “coffee table revivals,” or novel teachings—especially when the new idea seems to produce immediate zeal or certainty? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How should the question “Why haven’t Christians believed this before?” change how we judge new movements, “coffee table revivals,” or new teachings? What if the new idea brings quick excitement or strong confidence?

The lesson emphasizes that the church spread rapidly “without the backing of the state,” and later shows how state involvement under Constantine intoxicated the church. What does that contrast reveal about God’s purposes and methods for advancing the gospel, and what modern Christian instincts does it confront about influence, political protection, or cultural power? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What do we learn when we compare the early church growing without government help to the later church being changed by Constantine’s support? What modern habits does this challenge about seeking political power, protection, or cultural influence?

Dean describes the Latin/Greek divide (Western “logical,” Eastern “philosophical/fluffy”) and says it still affects theology today. When you read early Christian writings—or even when you listen to sermons now—where do you see these instincts shaping what counts as “good theology,” and how might each instinct blind believers to parts of Jesus’ teaching? JumpstartAnother way to ask: When you read early Christian writers or hear sermons today, where do you notice the Western “logical” style or the Eastern “philosophical” style shaping what people call “good theology”? How might each style cause believers to miss parts of what Jesus taught?

The Decian persecution required people to sacrifice and obtain certificates; the class reads an example from a 72-year-old man who “poured out a drink offering and eaten meat offered to the gods.” If early Christians saw this as apostasy pressure baked into ordinary citizenship, what present-day equivalents might expose where our allegiance actually lies (even without violence)? JumpstartAnother way to ask: If sacrificing to the gods was seen as a normal part of being a citizen, what pressures today might reveal what we truly worship (even without violence)? What everyday situations could test our loyalty to Jesus?

Dean notes that heresy-fighting can become a new “north star,” so that “the guys who are right are the guys who believe with me on this subject,” and he links this to “10 shekels and a shirt” fundamentalism (“Brother, you’re saved”). Where do you see doctrinal boundary-markers replacing “a life filled with Christ,” and how can a church contend for truth without letting controversy redefine Christianity? JumpstartAnother way to ask: Where do you see churches treating the “right side” of a debate as the main sign of being faithful, instead of a life shaped by Christ? How can we stand for truth without letting fights and controversies become the center of Christianity?

The lesson highlights a startling Nicaea canon: converts who renounced military service but returned were barred and then treated as penitent for years (“three years as hearers… ten years prostrate”). What does this suggest about early Christian assumptions regarding obedience, repentance, and the cost of discipleship—and how does it collide with modern evangelical ideas of grace, assurance, and “freedom”? JumpstartAnother way to ask: What does the Nicaea rule about long public repentance for people who left the army and then returned say about early Christian views of obedience and the cost of following Jesus? How does that clash with today’s ideas about grace, assurance, and freedom?

Leo Tolstoy’s critique claims the church effectively told Constantine: keep killing, lusting, executing, and living in luxury—“that can all be arranged”—and invented a Christianity where “Christ having died, Constantine can live as he likes.” In what ways could our own versions of “Christianity can be arranged” show up today (personally or institutionally), and what would it cost to bring our lives back under Jesus’ commands (“resist not evil,” “lay up not riches,” “judge not”)? JumpstartAnother way to ask: How might we be tempted today to say, “Christianity can be arranged,” so we can keep living the way we want (as individuals or as churches)? What would it cost to truly live under Jesus’ commands like “resist not evil,” “lay up not riches,” and “judge not”?