Unity, Worship, and a Bold Declaration: The Megiddo Mosaic
Beneath a high-security prison in northern Israel lies one of the most remarkable archaeological finds in Christian history—an 1,800-year-old mosaic floor that marks the site of what may be the oldest known Christian worship space ever discovered known as the Megiddo Mosaic.
The Megiddo Mosaic, uncovered accidentally during construction in 2005, dates back to around AD 230—nearly a century before Constantine made Christianity legal and long before church buildings were commonplace.
I went to see the Mosaic for the names of the women in the floor—as that would confirm so many things I discovered while researching for Esteemed: God and His View of Women. But what I came away with was so much more. Let me explain!
This site was likely a prayer hall located near a Roman military base at Legio. What makes it extraordinary isn’t its age or preservation, but the stunning window it provides into early Christian worship and identity. Its inscriptions reveal a diverse and united community, joined not by culture, class, or status—but by shared devotion to Jesus—the One declared, in this remarkably preserved floor, as God.
A Declaration of Deity Before Creeds Were Written
One of the most stunning features of the Megiddo Mosaic is its bold proclamation: Jesus is God. This inscription predates the declaration of Christianity as the official religion of Rome or the Nicene Creed by nearly a century and offers the earliest archaeological evidence of Christians worshiping Jesus as divine. And in a time when saying “Jesus is Lord” rather than “Caesar is Lord” could cost you everything, it was also a declaration that required deep conviction and courage.
This powerful inscription appears in a dedication made by a woman named Akeptous, who gave the table for this prayer hall, likely used for celebrating communion, “to the honor of the God Jesus Christ.” She is remembered in that same inscription as a “lover of God.” This speaks volumes about the deeply theological, bold faith of Akeptous and her Christian community.
Women at the Threshold
Four other women are honored in the mosaic—Primilla, Kyra, Dorothea, and Chreste—each named at the entrance to the worship space. Their placement at the threshold is striking. While we may not know the full details of their stories, we do know their names—women whose lives made a significant mark on this early Christian community.
Each time anyone entered the prayer hall, they would have been reminded of these women. In a culture that often silenced women, their presence here is powerful. These women were not side notes in this church’s life—they were vital, esteemed members of the body of Christ.
A Roman Centurion and a Craftsman
Another name in the mosaic belongs to a Roman centurion who likely funded the project. Not only is his generosity noted—he is called “our brother.” That phrase carries more than affection; it speaks of shared identity. This man, tasked with enforcing the rule of Caesar, was known as family in the kingdom of Christ.
Then there's Brutius, a simple workman, probably the one who crafted this incredible mosaic. He is not remembered for status or influence, but for his contribution. His name stands beside the centurion’s, a reminder that in Christ, earthly hierarchies fall away.
Unity not Uniformity
This gathering of diverse people—women and men, rich and poor, Roman military and local craftsmen—all worshiping together in a small prayer hall is nothing short of breathtaking. Their names are laid out in stone, but their unity speaks volumes.
In their world divided by ethnicity, status, and power, the Megiddo church bore witness to something radical: a unity that Jesus taught throughout His time on earth and prayed for in John 17:21–23:
“That all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me…Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.”
This mosaic is more than ancient art—it’s a living example of the earliest Christians’ faith, courage, and commitment to God, to His Word, and to one another.
I went to see the Megiddo Mosaic to see the names of the four women at the threshold, but the mosaic's broader testimony was truly astonishing—and much more than I hoped or imagined I’d find.
The Megiddo Mosaic's testimony left me humbled and amazed again at the grace of Jesus for all and the power of the Holy Spirit in our lives to live as He called us to live—despite our circumstances. There is much we can learn from one of the earliest archaeological witnesses to our Christian faith.
In this ancient prayer hall, memorialized in the very floor for all to see, there was no confusion about who Jesus was or what His Church was called to be—then or now.
How can we go and do likewise?
