I have pretty clear ideas about what it was about Christianity that made pagans want to convert to the faith, so that over the course of 300 years Christianity went from something like 20 people who believed Christ’s death is the only thing that could bring salvation (right after his immediate disciples came to think he had been raised from the dead) to some 5,000,000 around the time Constantine joined the church.
But most people find my views (I’ll restate/explain them in a later post) a bit hard to believe (OK: reminder/foreshadowing: Miracles!) (really??) (yup! I’ll explain). There are other views that seem easier to digest, and one that has been very popular over the past years and decades continues to seem commonsensical to people today: once people learned how amazing it was to belong to a Christian community, they too wanted to join up.
I’ll admit, on the surface, it sure seems to make sense. But … Here is how I discuss it in Triumph of Christianity (Simon & Schuster, 2018).
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It is often thought and widely claimed that one of the main reasons pagans converted to Christianity was because of the inherent attractiveness of the church community. Pagan civic cults did not involve much of any community. They did entail ceremonies performed in public in the presence of others. But there were no weekly community meetings, opportunities for fellowship, or planned times of discussion, reflection, and sharing of concerns.
That was different within Christianity. Much like the Jewish synagogues out of which they grew, Christian churches entailed regularly scheduled weekly meetings. Converting to become Christian was not an isolated individualistic affair, a matter of private spirituality. It meant joining the church. The church was not a place – there were no buildings for Christian gatherings until the middle of the third century, so far as we know. Prior to then, and probably for a good while afterward, most churches met in private homes and in outdoor areas such as cemeteries.

Rather than being a place, the church was a community. A tightly-knit community. A community as tightly knit as the nuclear family. In fact, Christians were often encouraged to replace their families with the members of their new community. The founder or leader of the church was a “father”; fellow believers were “brothers” and “sisters” in one big family. Moreover, these were self-consciously communities of mutual love and respect. They provided material support for their needy members. They provided moral support for everyone who came.
Such, at least, were the claims of Christians who wrote about the church. Whether all this was entirely true is another question. But numerous scholars have maintained that the obvious attractions of this kind of community would have drawn in outsiders, eager to join for the enormous social benefits. Classical historian E. R. Dodds once claimed that the nature of the Christian community “was a major cause, perhaps the single cause, of the spread of Christianity.”[1]
Support for this view might seem to come from a comment by the late fourth-century Emperor Julian, known to history as “Julian the Apostate” since he abandoned his Christian faith to adopt and promote traditional pagan religions. Julian was the only pagan emperor after Constantine; he ruled for nineteen months from 361-63 CE. He was, in fact, Constantine’s nephew and had been raised in the church. But he rebelled upon taking office and was intent to re-convert the empire to paganism, as we will see more fully in chapter nine.
In one of his letters Julian laments the success of the Christian church and attributes it to the benefactions that Christians bestowed on others, expressing his wish that pagan religions could follow the Christian example of community and communal giving. In this citation he refers to Christians both as “atheists” – since they do not revere the gods – and “Galileans”:
Why do we not observe that it is their benevolence to strangers, their care for the graves of the dead, and the pretended holiness of their lives that have done most to increase atheism? … It is disgraceful that, when no Jew ever has to beg, and the impious Galileans support not only their own poor but ours as well, everyone can see that our people lack aid from us.
And so, it has been argued, Christian communal life ultimately attracted adherents. There are, however, difficulties with this view. For one thing, as a young man Julian himself had been actively involved in the church and so knew of its workings from the inside. His was not an outsider’s report. He may well have believed that charity drew people in, but it is striking that the advantages of church membership are never mentioned as a reason for conversion by any Christian on record. As Adolf von Harnack concedes, for example, based on an exhaustive evaluation of all our literary sources: “We know of no cases in which Christians desired to win, or actually did win, adherents by means of the charities which they dispensed.”[2]
That is not to say that benefits did not accrue to those who came into the church. On the contrary, there is good reason to suspect that numerous people found the Christian church very gratifying indeed, in no small measure for the social, emotional, physical, and intellectual benefits it bestowed. But there is a difference between benefits that might encourage insiders to remain within the confines of the community and benefits that might entice them to join in the first place. Keeping someone in is the not the same as bringing them in.
The early Christian churches were closed communities. Outsiders were not allowed to join in worship services. They did not know the inner workings of the church or the full advantages of what it had to offer. Indeed, as we will see later, stories about what happened within Christian communities could be considerably repugnant, rather than attractive. In short, we have little evidence to suggest that people widely, if at all, joined the church because of the communal benefits they would receive. Something else probably made the Christian religion attractive.
[1] E. R. Dodds, Pagans and Christians in an Age of Anxiety: Some Aspects of Religious Experience from Marcus Aurelius to Constantine (New York: Norton, 1965) pp 137-38.
[2] Adolf Harnack, The Expansion of Christianity in the First Three Centuries, tr. James Moffatt (New York: G. P. Putnam’s Sons, 1908) vol. 2, p. 480.
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I understand your recent posts are heading here:
Why growth? Not primarily through organized missions, but through social networks: family, neighbours, friends, and co-workers.
Why cumulative growth? Because Christianity was exclusive. A new Christian did not simply add Christ to the existing gods. Conversion meant a real transfer of loyalty.
Why mission? Because Christians believed others needed to be saved. That gave urgency.
Why did people join, and remain loyal to a movement that could cost them family, status, safety, and life itself?
The answer seems to be: not simply because the community was socially attractive, but because people became convinced that divine power was at work: miracles, healings, exorcisms, visions, and the resurrection proclamation.
Exclusivity + saving urgency + networks + perceived divine power = growth despite costs.
That seems much stronger than the explanation that Christianity grew because Christians were kind to the poor. Charity and communal warmth do not by themselves explain why people would join a movement that could bring suspicion, social cost, and danger.
That leaves me with this: does this account explain the spread, or also the depth of conviction that made some people willing to suffer and even die for it?
The exclusivity may, yes — since if salvation comes through Christ alone and if one abandons the faith (under threat of torture) it will mean the loss of salvatoin (so eternal torture as opposed to a few hours worth…). The early accounts of martrydome actualy indicate this was part of the logic.
Dear Dr Ehrman
I am so sorry to intrude, may I trouble you for a little clarification regarding a textual issue ?I have heard that some tentatively claim that the word ‘Holy’ in John 14:26 is a later addition to the text. In this many base their arguments upon the absence of the word in the 5th century Syriac Sinaiticus of John. If I may ask, is this view still widely supported in the latest Johannine/New Testament textual scholarship? Once again, I am sorry to bother.
I believe “Holy” is found in every Greek, Latin, and … well every other kind of manuscript apart from the Syriac Sinaiticus, but I don’t think its absence there would be a strong argument for it not being original. We have Greek mss of this part of John going back to around 200 CE. The only other argument that it was not original is that this is the only place in John that uses “Holy” with “Spirit,” but again that’s not normally seen as compelling.
Regarding the issue of John 14:26 being only place in John that uses “Holy” with “Spirit”,may I ask why it is not generally seen as a compelling reason for the un-originality of the word ‘Holy’?
Because lots of words in the NT are used only once, and lots of authors use specific word combinations only once. As a pretty sensible acacemic procedure, unless there is something quite bizarre about a word combination, along with some manuscripts that lack it, then there’s not much reason to assume the combination didn’t occur. In general, there needs to be pretty forceful internal grounds for thinking that all the manuscripts are wrong; you can make a case here, but I”m not sure how to make a compelling one.
I do not mean to suggest that this factor alone explains the rise of Christianity. Still, I wonder whether belonging to a community, together with the practical and economic support it could provide in poverty or hardship, was an important part of its appeal.
As someone who belongs to a church myself, I can appreciate this personally. A religious community can provide a place where people speak seriously and openly about life’s deeper questions — meaning, suffering, death, hope, and purpose — without embarrassment or irony. Such conversations are not always easy to find elsewhere.
I am also reminded of the Harvard Study of Adult Development, which has strongly suggested that the quality of our relationships is one of the most important predictors of long-term happiness and health. In addition, religious communities often invite people to serve others and address social needs. Such service may give people a sense that they are needed, useful, and part of something morally meaningful.
This does not prove anything directly about early Christianity, but it makes me wonder whether its communal and service-oriented aspects were more significant than we sometimes assume.
I’ve become interested lately in how Greek and Roman philosophy impacts Judaism and Christianity. Do you have any book recommendations on this topic that I could check out?
I deal with aspects of the questoin in my new book Love Thy Stranger. For fuller discussions you might check out Abraham Malherbe, Light from the Gentiles and Paul and the Popular Philosophers; if you want to go deep into the weeds on Stoicism, Troels Endberg-Petersen, Paul and the Stoics.
If I’d been a young man back when Christianity was getting started, it would have been all the hugging and “holy” kissing that would gotten me to join the Church. I need a hug.
Dr. Ehrman, I always enjoy your personal stories in your books. They provide nice breaks from the serious topics being discussed.
My question is this:
Would you ever consider writing an autobiography? It would be interesting to hear more personal stories like the ones included in your books. I, for one, can relate to your journey from fundamentalist to agnostic. I believe others might be interested as well. What say ye?
Not sure — I’ve covered so much autobiographical material in my books already!
This is an interesting perspective. When one of my good friends who was very intelligent (graduated with 1st Class Honours and all) joined a cultish movement, I was baffled as they had strange practices and the leader of the movement could dictate what the followers could do and even marry. After looking into this a bit more, I realised that it is not so much the doctrines which attracted him but the communal camaraderie that made him want to stay and along the way the beliefs got stronger even though from my perspective was somewhat irrational. So what you set out here even makes sense today for a lot of converts – even in Christian churches today.
Thank you Dr Ehrman. Another fascinating post. I was particularly interested by your remarks about the early Christian churches being ‘closed communities.’ I had assumed that they were more welcoming than that. Could it be that they were ‘closed’ to protect themselves from government persecution? Furthermore, could that have also led to accusations of secrecy and attempts by modern scholars to link Christianity with the ancient pagan mystery cults?
It appears their meetings were worship services and so only those who could join them in worship were welcome. I don’t think there is any suggestion in our sources that they were closed off for fear of persecution. But yes, the “secrecy” did lead to strange charges, and outsiders may well have seen them as connected with mystery cults — though, oddly enough, many of these mystery cults (e.g., the Eleusinain mysteries) were open events for anyone who chose ot go.
Prof. Ehrman, the questions you should be asking are… What made Christianity attractive to Israelite converts before AD135, and what made the post-AD135 version of Christianity attractive to Gentile converts after AD135? Those are two historically distinct stages. The first was a new covenantal-apocalyptic Israel-only movement anticipating the end of an age of the old covenant religious system. The second became an expanding trans-ethnic religious civilization capable of absorbing the Roman world.
Before AD135, the Jesus movement attracted Jews, proselytes, God-fearers, and synagogue-connected Gentiles because it proclaimed the fulfillment of Israel’s covenant hopes, restoration of the tribes, and imminent judgment upon the Old Covenant system. Its message revolved around Jerusalem, Torah, synagogue networks, and the “hope of Israel.”
After AD70 — and especially after AD135 when Jerusalem became Aelia Capitolina and Jewish leadership disappeared — Christianity increasingly became Gentile-led, philosophically Greco-Roman, detached from Torah and Jewish covenant identity, and adaptable to the empire. Its appeal shifted toward a perceived universal salvation, personal immortality, communal identity, and social cohesion across the Roman world.
At what point, historically, should we stop assuming that the later universal Greco-Roman religion was simply the uninterrupted continuation of the original first-century Israel-centered apocalyptic movement?
Yup, those are definitely questions I ask.
In some ways, Christianity changed radically from what Jesus taught to what his disciples taught about him within months of his death. It changed radically again in a few years when most converts were from gentile stock. It changed radically again as it spread the theology altered. etc. There’s no one turning point but constant turning points. Jesus would not have recognized the Christians in Paul’s Corinth as among his disciples….
Prof. Ehrman, that’s a significant admission, because once we acknowledge repeated radical transformations within Christianity, the real historical question becomes whether the later Gentile-universal religion still remained the same movement in any meaningful covenantal sense.
I actually think Jesus would have recognized Paul’s Corinthian mission, because both Jesus and Paul were still operating within Israel’s covenantal world. The more important question is whether the Jerusalem apostles of Acts 1–15 would have recognized the post-AD135 Gentile church: detached from Torah, disconnected from Jerusalem and Israel’s restoration hopes, and increasingly shaped by Greco-Roman philosophy and imperial structures.
My contention is that the original movement was fundamentally tied to Israel’s covenant crisis, temple judgment, diaspora regathering, and imminent eschatology within that generation. After AD70 — and especially after the Hadrianic rupture of AD135 eliminated Jewish Jerusalem leadership — Christianity’s center shifted into something qualitatively different: a trans-ethnic Greco-Roman religion using Israel’s scriptures and symbols, but no longer operating within the same covenantal framework.
So my question is: would you be willing to consider that the New Testament narrative was fundamentally covenant-bound, time-bound, and Israel-centered, and that later Christianity universalized what was originally a historically bounded movement?
I think the transformatoin to a universalistic message happened before the books of the NT were written. Or at least that the transformatoin was already underway.
Prof Ehrma, I agree a universalizing trajectory was already beginning before the New Testament was completed. That’s not the issue. And that does not mean the earliest movement had already become the later Gentile-universal religion.
Before AD70–135, the movement was still operating within Israel’s covenantal world: Israel’s Messiah, Israel’s scriptures, Israel’s temple, Israel’s restoration hopes, and an imminent judgment tied to that generation. Even Paul’s mission remained rooted in synagogues, Abrahamic promise, and the “hope of Israel.”
After AD70, the temple was gone. After AD135, Jewish Jerusalem leadership disappeared and Christianity increasingly became Gentile-led, Greco-Roman, detached from Torah, detached from Jerusalem, and shaped by imperial and philosophical categories foreign to the original apocalyptic Jewish movement.
That is the distinction I am making. Expansion within Israel’s covenant drama is not the same thing as the later universal religion that emerged afterward.
So let me ask this directly: if the Jerusalem apostles of Acts 1–15 were transported into a fourth-century imperial church shaped by Gentile bishops, Greek metaphysics, anti-Jewish rhetoric, and a non-imminent universal religion detached from Torah and Jerusalem, would they have recognized it as the same covenant movement they believed they were leading?
I’d say almost certainly not. But then again, either would Paul’s churches.
Dr. Ehrman,
Have you read “The Letters of Paul in their Roman Literary Context” by Nina E. Livesey? It seems to be a rather radical take. She claims that even the undisputed letters by Paul are pseudonymous and “letters-in-form-only.” The claim is also that authors of Pauline letters manipulated the letter genre for disciplinary teachings. And dates the letters’ to the mid-second century and the school of Marcion. Have you heard of such theories before? What are the key reasons you reject such theories, since I know that you hold that there are 7 authentic letters?
Yes, it’s a radical take, and so far I haven’t heard of any scholars who have been convinced. Most are quite decidedly not convinced.
It’s a little hard to date Paul’s letters to the mid-second century when authors refer to them decades earlier. (Ignatius, e.g.)
Dr. Ehrman,
Could it also be argued as evidence against Marcion “inventing” Paul, that in several of the undisputed letters, we read that Paul strongly links himself with his Jewish heritage and references many of the Old Testament scriptures in a positive manner, yet Marcion was known to be highly “Anti-Jewish,” therefore it seems that Paul is not likely a creation of Marcion, does this make sense?
Yes, I would think so. But Marcion himself claimed that the Jewish elements in Paul’s letters were inserted there by later copyists. If we rejectd that view (everyone does) then it’s more than a bit of a problem thinking that Marcion invented them.
Interestingly, the Apostle Paul was not “planting churches”. He was spreading a message AGAINST ORGANIZED RELIGION. He was spreading the message that the Finished Work of the Cross eliminated organized religions. Believers and unbelievers were judged equally by the same criteria and by the same Divine Judge. (ROMANS 2:26-29). Converts to Paul’s message were UNCHURCHED CHRISTIANS.
I know that this message does not pack the pews or fill the collection plate, but this is the New Covenant. The Jewish synagogue in the Jewish Diaspora was the first destination when Paul arrived in a new city (except Athens). He had the credentials. A former special prosecutor of the High Priest and the Sanhedrin of Jerusalem. A former Pharisee who was taught by Gamaliel (Acts 6:34). Paul was not the first Christian in many cities. He might have tailored his message to fit the audience, but he did not change the facts when the facts were inconvenient truths. He avoided needless debate; he did not avoid controversy. Meanwhile, his enemies waited for his death to spread forged letters. Paul might have been vaguely aware of the growing Gnostic community. They would spread forged letters, also. A third forger worked on ROMANS.