The Resurgence of House Churches

House Churches, Saint Clement, and The Episcopacy

Introduction

Over the course of my life, I’ve witnessed a notable resurgence of house churches. To be fair, house churches have been popular in various forms for quite some time, but in my years as a pastor—especially in church planting circles—this trend has gained renewed momentum. While not everyone in these circles advocates for house churches, their influence has certainly grown for several reasons.

Books like Francis Chan’s Letters to the Church and the development of his We Are Church network have undoubtedly contributed to this rise. In Chan’s network, house churches meet in homes throughout the month and periodically gather in parks for corporate worship, sermons, and communion. Similarly, the Tampa Underground Network—a collection of microchurches organized around specific affinities, such as fitness communities or outreach to women in the sex industry—has spread beyond Florida to places like Ireland. Their website even encourages people to plant microchurches tailored to their unique sense of calling, offering support to “whatever God is calling you to.”

Jason Shepperd’s book Church Project has also been influential in shaping these movements, alongside a host of other works, such as Simple Church, which advocates for a “less complex, more biblical” approach to ministry.

These movements share a common vision: decentralization, speed of multiplication, and a break from the perceived institutional excesses of traditional churches. And I get it. I really do. There’s an appeal here. House churches can multiply quickly—train someone in a year, send them out, and suddenly you’ve doubled your presence. Overhead costs are minimal—there’s no building to maintain, no utilities to pay, no liturgical furniture to buy. In an era where financial constraints are a constant challenge for the Western church, this model seems like an obvious win.

But as I’ve reflected on this over the years, I’ve come to see that while house churches may offer a romantic vision of simplicity and rapid growth, they rest on a presupposition that is deeply flawed. Specifically, these movements often assume that the early church was an organic, non-hierarchical phenomenon, and that this is the model we should replicate today.

This assumption, however, does not hold up to historical scrutiny.

Beyond historical concerns, the modern house church model faces practical challenges. Without a clear hierarchy, issues like doctrinal consistency and accountability often arise. Who decides how disputes are resolved or what theological standards are upheld? The early church recognized these challenges and addressed them through structured leadership—precisely the kind of oversight that house churches often reject. While autonomy may feel freeing, it can leave these communities vulnerable to division and instability.

The Early Church: Organic but Not Non-Hierarchical

Let me first acknowledge that church planting in the early church was indeed organic in some ways. The gospel spread rapidly through ordinary men and women who proclaimed Christ wherever they went. The apostles and their co-laborers planted churches in homes, not cathedrals, and their ministry often lacked the material stability we associate with modern church life. But here’s the key: while the early church was organic in its expansion, it was far from being non-hierarchical. In fact, the evidence shows the exact opposite.

To illustrate this, let me introduce you to Saint Clement of Rome, an early church leader whose writings provide an invaluable window into the apostolic era. Clement was a contemporary of the apostles, a co-laborer of Peter and Paul, and, according to early church fathers like Tertullian, Eusebius, and Irenaeus, was consecrated by Peter himself to serve as Bishop of Rome.

In his letter known as 1 Clement, written to the troubled church in Corinth, Clement provides a striking defense of the episcopate, the office of bishop. Based on internal evidence, such as references to the still-functioning Temple, this letter was likely written before AD 70, though some date it to AD 96. Either way, it reflects the beliefs and practices of the first century church—a time when the apostles and their immediate disciples were still alive.

The context of 1 Clement is crucial: the Corinthian church had dismissed several of its bishops and elders, prompting an appeal to Rome for guidance. Clement’s response is unequivocal. He rebukes the Corinthians, arguing that dismissing faithful leaders disrupts the order established by the apostles through Christ. He emphasizes that the episcopate was not a human invention but a divine institution, established with foreknowledge of the challenges the church would face.

Clement writes:

“Our apostles also knew, through our Lord Jesus Christ, that there would be strife on account of the office of the episcopate. For this reason, therefore, inasmuch as they had obtained a perfect foreknowledge of this, they appointed those [ministers] already mentioned, and afterwards gave instructions, that when these should fall asleep, other approved men should succeed them in their ministry... For our sin will not be small, if we eject from the episcopate those who have blamelessly and holily fulfilled its duties.”

Here, Clement asserts several key points:

1. The apostles, guided by Christ, established the episcopate to provide stable and authoritative leadership.

2. They appointed successors and instructed these successors to continue the practice of appointing faithful men to ministry.

3. The dismissal of faithful bishops is not merely a procedural error but a grave sin, undermining the church’s divinely ordained order.

What This Means for House Churches

So, what does Clement’s testimony mean for the modern house church movement? It means that the non-hierarchical model many house churches adopt is fundamentally incompatible with the apostolic tradition. While it’s true that the early church met in homes, these gatherings were not independent, self-organized entities. They were connected through the oversight of bishops, elders, and deacons—offices established by the apostles themselves.

This structured approach to leadership wasn’t unique to Rome or Corinth—it was universal. In addition to 1 Clement, Saint Ignatius and early church writings like the Didache (written around AD 50–120) describe a community with clear roles for bishops and deacons. These documents reflect a shared understanding across the Christian world that hierarchical leadership was necessary to preserve unity and protect the church from doctrinal error.

The house church resurgence often emphasizes individual autonomy: “Don’t see something that matches your heart? Start your own church!” But this stands in stark contrast to the Apostolic vision of a church. In the early church, no congregation operated in isolation, and no one simply “started” a church based on personal preference. Authority flowed from Christ to the apostles, and from the apostles to their appointed successors, ensuring unity and doctrinal integrity.

What 1 Clement reveals is that the early church was not an egalitarian experiment. By the first century—whether you date Clement’s letter to AD 70 or AD 96—a fully functioning episcopate was already in place.

This historical reality undermines the romantic notion that the early church was a loosely organized network of autonomous house gatherings. The early church had structure, hierarchy, and accountability—features that house church movements often reject.

Conclusion: A Call to Historical Fidelity

The resurgence of house churches speaks to a sincere yearning for renewal—a desire to return to the simplicity, vitality, and community of the early church. This is a noble aspiration, and it’s one that resonates with the heart of every pastor and church planter who longs to see Christ’s kingdom grow and thrive. But sincerity alone is not enough. To honor the spirit of renewal, we must also honor the truth of history.

The historical evidence, as seen in 1 Clement and other early writings, paints a picture of a church that was deeply connected—not by loose networks or individual autonomy, but by a divinely ordained structure of leadership. Bishops, elders, and deacons were not afterthoughts or cultural adaptations; they were established by the apostles under the authority of Christ Himself. Their role was to guard the unity and integrity of the church, ensuring that it remained faithful to the gospel.

Modern house church movements must grapple with this reality. Their enthusiasm for community and simplicity is commendable, but their rejection of hierarchy cannot be reconciled with the practices of the early church. To reclaim the vitality of the first-century church, we cannot selectively emulate what appeals to us while discarding what challenges us.

The church does not belong to us—it belongs to Christ. And as His body, we are called to conform not to our preferences, but to His design. History does not constrain us; it anchors us. And in a world increasingly fragmented by individualism, the model of the early church offers a much-needed call to unity, order, and faithfulness. Let us not shy away from it. Instead, let us embrace it with the same zeal that drives us to plant churches and proclaim the gospel—knowing that in doing so, we are standing on the firm foundation of Christ and His apostles.

This reflection cuts both ways for me as a Presbyterian with Anglican leanings. While I’ve long appreciated the Presbyterian emphasis on shared leadership, the historical evidence for episcopacy—rooted in apostolic practice—cannot be ignored. Anglican ecclesiology offers a unique synthesis: structured leadership through bishops, paired with pastoral flexibility and liturgical richness. Perhaps Clement’s witness is a nudge I can no longer resist.

Clement’s trustworthiness lies in his proximity to the apostles and his role as a key leader in the first-century church. As a contemporary of Peter and Paul, consecrated by Peter himself, Clement reflects the apostolic tradition with unparalleled authority. His testimony aligns with the early church’s practice, exemplified in the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15), where the apostles and elders gathered to resolve doctrinal disputes—a clear example of episcopal governance in action. This historical continuity is compelling not only for house church proponents but also for Presbyterians like myself with Anglican leanings. If Clement’s witness affirms episcopacy as the apostolic model, it raises a challenging question for me: is it time to embrace the fullness of that tradition and finally call myself Anglican?

The Jerusalem Council (Acts 15) provides a striking example of this episcopal model in action. Faced with a doctrinal dispute over Gentile inclusion, the apostles and elders gathered to deliberate and provide authoritative guidance. This was not an ad hoc meeting of equals but a demonstration of structured, hierarchical leadership—precisely the kind of governance Clement defends in his letter to Corinth.