Abuelitas, the Oikos, and the Church

Rev. Eli Valentín revisits church traditions in Ancient Greece and Latin America for a COVID-19 ecclesiological agenda

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The COVID-19 reality is forcing us to more rigorously examine how we understand church and to evaluate what makes our practices valid and efficacious.

Does receiving Communion without a priest or minister physically present invalidate the act?

How do we respond to those who wish to be baptized? 

What do we make of church leadership structures when the faithful must independently gather from their homes? 

In a previous Open Plaza blog post, I describe a new reality for the Church in a time of social distancing and quarantining, a new meaning for Jesus’ promise that He is there wherever “two or three are gathered” in His name, even if that gathering is virtual. Regardless of our denominational affiliations, we are seeing a clear need to rethink our ecclesiological agenda. 

Such rethinking does not necessarily mean inventing new methods of understanding being and doing church. The rethinking I suggest means both going back to basics, back to the church’s foundations, while also considering some contemporary models of doing church. 

Specifically useful to us are the models we can glean from the ancient Greek oikos concept of the early church and from the Comunidades Eclesiales de Base (CEB), church base communities that originated in Latin America during the 1960s.

The oikos

Ceramic seal for ritual bread with an inscription "Daniil – a prophet of Christ", 6 c. Source: Historical Museum, Dupnitsa

Ceramic seal for ritual bread with an inscription "Daniil – a prophet of Christ", 6 c. Source: Historical Museum, Dupnitsa

The biblical record tells us that the early church gathered in the oikoi, or households of followers of Christ. The early church gathering resembled the central basis of its civic life—essentially, the household, which was the locus of family and social life. This  oikos was the place where relationships were formed and nourished. And these were relationships that extended even beyond the immediate family, encompassing other relatives, friends, and acquaintances.

For followers of Christ and those who adhered to the Apostles’ teaching, the domestic nucleus formed the basis of local church communities. Thus, the church gathered, developed, and was formed through and because of the oikos

Perhaps the gathering of the church in the oikos was not intentional but done out of necessity. External realities—persecution by the Roman Empire and followers of Jesus being expelled from the synagogues—forced the church to gather in the oikos. Nevertheless, the church thrived in the household and would continue to do so until Christianity was embraced by the political structures of the day.

The Comunidades Eclesiales de Base

The Comunidades Eclesiales de Base also developed in response to Christians’ specific needs and to forces outside of their control. The CEBs formed, in part, because of the shortage of priests in a number of locations in Latin America. Thus, the CEBs were led by laypeople who gathered in the homes of its members. In such gatherings, what informed theological discussions was not only scripture but also participants’ often challenging economic and social contexts. 

Like the oikos in the New Testament, these comunidades were formed by immediate and extended family, friends, acquaintances, and neighbors. The CEBs, I dare say, were a means by which the church in Latin America thrived and remained relevant for many followers of Christ.

‘Mi casa es su casa’

Mamá, courtesy of Eli Valentín

Mamá, courtesy of Eli Valentín

It makes sense that CEBs emerged in Latin America. The household is neither a foreign nor an insignificant concept for Latino/a families. Latinos/as have long considered the household as what holds family together, the place where individuals in that household are offered opportunities to thrive. It is the place where one finds meaning amidst a world of disruption and chaos.

My friend, theologian Orlando Espín, identifies his home as “the place where the world makes sense.” 

El hogar—the Latino/a oikos—is not just a place that provides shelter, a bed, and a place to eat. It is the place where love is offered and received, characters are formed, and individuals are given a safe place to be and exist, even when the world around them rejects them. Latino/a families also open their doors to friends and neighbors, counting as familia all those who are dear to them, whether or not they are biological relatives. 

Perhaps like you, this I learned in my abuela’s house.

Relatives or not, everyone called my grandmother “Mamá”. And this is not unique to my familial context; this “everyone’s mother” designation plays out in Latino/a families and households across the country.

One would always find visitors at Mamá’s house. And Mamá would always sit them at the dinner table for café y pan con mantequilla. In essence, Mamá’s table was a Communion table, where everyone was welcome and no one was turned away. At her table, the coffee and bread and butter were the symbolic elements of the communal meal that Jesus enjoined us to remember. In fact, Mama’s table was also where people asked her for prayers and advice. 

My abuela’s home became an oikos where Christ was proclaimed not just by words but with the deed of accompaniment and the offering of café and pan. In turn, time at the table with family and neighbors provided Mamá with an ongoing opportunity to witness the love and grace that Christ offers us.

 
“Cristo en casa de Marta y María [Christ in the house of Martha and Mary]” by Diego Velázquez, c. 1618. Source: National Gallery, London

Cristo en casa de Marta y María [Christ in the house of Martha and Mary]” by Diego Velázquez, c. 1618. Source: National Gallery, London

 

Sheltering at home and in Christ

Fast-forward to our current context of a global pandemic, when the church is once again having to look at the oikos as the new gathering place. In a time of restrictions and no business as usual, we, the church, have a rich opportunity here: to see the oikos as the deliberate location of the gathering of the followers of Christ. 

To make our dinner tables our new Communion tables, our café y pan the symbolic elements of the body and blood of Christ that feed our bodies and spirits. 

To make our table conversations our new homilies and sermons.

To be sure, the oikos does not replace participation in the wider church, the structures of leadership in the church, and the multiplicity of practices that make up church

In the early church, the concept of paterfamilias, as Edward Schillebeeckx notes in The Church With a Human Face, developed and was formed. This established a leadership structure that included an overseer (episkope) in the respective oikos. While followers of Christ met in local households, the concept of paterfamilias helped Christians understand that their leadership structures and the reality of being part of the body of Christ meant belonging to a larger family.

The same spirit of paterfamilias can be adopted by the church today as it grapples with the ecclesiological impact of COVID-19. Thus, even as the church gathers in twos and threes in the modern-day oikos occupied by abuelitas and their (mask-wearing) families and neighbors, we are neither in competition with nor a substitute for the wider body of Christ. 

Rather, we meet as a body of Christ in the partaking of familia.

 

 
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