After a varied experience of thirty years in the ministry of the Protestant Episcopal Church, I am forced to the conclusion that Catholicism without the pope, so far as I am concerned, has been weighed in the balances and found wanting.
But why not Catholicism with the pope? Why this extraordinary antipathy to the most ancient and venerable of all institutions in the modern world? Any schoolboy could tell us that Catholicism without the pope is a contradiction in terms. It is like speaking of Catholicism without confession or Catholicism without the Mass. The only body of Christians in the world today that officially calls itself Catholic is that very considerable section of Christendom that is living under the papal obedience. The Churches of the East call themselves Orthodox; to them a Catholic is one that is subject to the jurisdiction of the pope. If any national group in the Anglican communion began to officially call itself Catholic, it would result in a schism in that group. In ordinary modern speech everywhere a Catholic is a Roman Catholic. Anglicans who claim to be Catholic are reduced to the necessity of calling themselves Anglo-Catholics, if they wish to be understood; even then, it requires much explanation. I remember once, years ago, seeing a colleague of mine talking long and vociferously with an old lady and making many gestures. They were too far away for me to hear what they said. I asked someone why he was talking so long, and I was told that he was trying to explain the Anglo-Catholic position to a deaf woman. I have often found it quite as difficult to expound the position to those who have ears to hear.
The Roman Catholic position is simple by comparison, and it can be stated cogently even by the unlearned. One morning a rough-looking young fellow spoke to me at the church door and asked what was the difference between our church and the Roman Catholic. I answered that we did not accept the claims of the pope to supreme jurisdiction over the whole Church. He then wanted to know how we interpreted Christ’s words to Peter: “On this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” I was amazed at such an apt retort from a man who was apparently uneducated. I replied that many of the Fathers of the early Church interpreted the rock as referring to Peter’s confession, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God.” He shook his head as he added, “But Christ said, Thou art Peter, and Peter means rock.” As I left him I wondered how many Anglicans of his station could explain so concisely their ecclesiastical position.
Every human organization, whether political, industrial, commercial, financial, or social, has its administrative head. Why should not the Church Militant here on earth likewise have an administrative head? The Church of England has her primate; the Protestant Episcopal Church has found it necessary to elect a presiding bishop; why should not the Catholic Church have a pope? If our Lord had founded his Church without making provision for such an administrative head, he would have founded a Church that was ill-adapted to succeed in a world where so much depends upon organization. . . .
Peter in Rome
Dr. Foakes Jackson makes the interesting suggestion that when the Acts of the Apostles records that the sick used to be brought into the streets that “even the shadow of Peter passing by” might overshadow them, it is a figure of his subsequent influence on the Christian world, the history of which for countless generations was dominated everywhere by “the shadow of Peter passing by.” Jackson goes on to say that while the personality, writings, and achievements of Paul have wrought much, he has not captured the imagination of mankind as fully as the mighty shadow of his great colleague. “Of the religion of Christ it may be said that its outward manifestations in the world are its Church and its theology; and that the one is connected with the name of Peter, the other with that of Paul. But, if only the few in any age have understood Christian doctrine, the Church has been evident to all, and, judged by this test Peter is of even greater importance than Paul himself.”
Anglican controversialists make a great deal of the fact that there is no evidence that Peter was ever in Rome or that he was the first bishop of the Roman Church. Of course, no argument can be built upon lack of evidence. The belief that Peter was in Rome, and was the first bishop of the Church there, is grounded upon the constant tradition in the early Church, which was never questioned, that these things were so. . . .
Power of the Keys
It is undeniable that our Lord conferred upon Peter a distinctive gift, the power of the keys. In dealing with this fundamental fact, the question at issue is as follows: In committing to the Prince of the Apostles the power of the keys, did the Founder of the Church intend to bestow upon Peter not merely a primacy of distinction and honor, or even of responsibility to the whole Church, but in addition a magisterium, a magistracy over the new messianic kingdom? Two arguments are brought forward by Anglo-Catholic controversialists against the claim that the pope possesses by divine right a magisterium, or the supreme power of jurisdiction over the whole Church.
The first argument is that nothing is heard of Peter exercising such a power during the latter part of his apostleship and, furthermore, that we hear of no provision for its continuance in his successors. The argument from silence has never appealed to me as convincing. It is quite possible that no occasion arose for the exercise of this power of the keys until the middle of the third century. But it is also possible that our records are defective. The same argument from silence, based on the lack of evidence, can be used against the belief that the diocesan episcopate inherited, by divine right, all the powers of the apostolic college. Naturally, during the years of persecution, there was little time or opportunity for writing, and what was written may easily have been destroyed. Therefore the lack of evidence is no argument against the episcopate or papacy. Two significant facts stand out: our Lord gave the power of the keys to Peter, which he exercised frequently in the early part of his apostolate; and from the middle of the third century on the bishops of Rome claimed to exercise that power by right of succession from Peter. What more could we ask for: a power conferred by divine authority and the subsequent exercise of that power by the popes without its being contested by the rest of the Church?
But is it so certain that there is no evidence of the supremacy of Peter in the missionary development of the early Church? The churches founded by Paul were jealously watched over by Paul himself, and he apparently did not recognize any authority as being capable of putting a check on his own. That is characteristic of his character and method. But the churches founded by him did not always admit this principle. They welcomed other missionaries. The Corinthian community had welcomed Apollos, and there was a division among them; some were of Paul, and some were of Apollos. Still others claimed to be of Christ, and it looks very much as if the authority they invoked was that of Cephas, who had never been in Corinth. It is interesting to note the order in which Paul lists these authorities, naming Christ last, a progression certainly intentional: “Now this I say, that everyone of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ” (1 Cor. 1:12). From this it appears that Peter is known to the Corinthians as an authority in the Church—and an authority who ranks above Paul and Apollos. The only higher authority than that of Peter is the authority of Christ.
In writing to the Corinthians, Paul insists that all of these leaders—whether himself, Apollos, or Cephas—are but servants of the servants of God and that all, apostles and the faithful, are Christ’s as Christ is God’s. He never contests the privilege accorded to Peter as having been the first to whom the risen Lord showed himself (cf. 1 Cor. 15:5). He puts Peter ahead of the other apostles, even the brethren of the Lord, when he says, “Have we no right to lead about a wife that is a believer, as well as other apostles, and as the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas?” (1 Cor. 9:5). He utters no word of criticism against the authority that some of the Corinthians recognized in Peter.
The second argument against the claim to supremacy is that the general consent of the Church has always been lacking. In particular, it is alleged that the papal claims were never recognized in the East. A great deal is made of a quotation from the history of the Church by Duchesne, a Roman Catholic historian, vol. II, pp. 659–661. In this passage the historian is explaining how the authority of the emperor insinuated itself into Catholicism. He says that the Christian religion in the fourth century became the religion of the emperor not only in the sense that it was professed by him but in the sense that it was directed by him. And this evolution was brought about because “the papacy as the West knew it later on was yet to be born.” In other words, there was not, in the Church of the fourth century, “an authority central, recognized, and effective.” Of course it is obvious that the papacy, as it later developed, did not yet exist in the fourth century. It had not sufficient power and prestige to assert itself effectively against the imperial power. But no one who is familiar with the facts of history can deny that there existed in the Catholicism of the time of Theodosius a Church that was a norm of authority, recognized and consulted by all. The Roman Church was the Church in communion with which it was necessary to be if one were to belong to the Ecclesia. It was the only Church in the world that pretended to have a care for all the churches. It was a Church that believed it had a right to welcome the bishops whom Eastern councils had deposed, pronounce on their causes, and send them back to their dioceses vindicated and strengthened. It was the Church to which the Orientals appealed as in the time of St. Basil to determine for them the orthodoxy of doctrines or persons.
This normal development of the Apostolic See as the center of unity was interfered with in the East by the policy of Constantine toward the end of his reign and the subsequent policies of the emperors Constance II and Valens. As a result there was imposed on Catholicism a Caesaro-papism, against which the Catholicism of St. Athanasius and St. Hilary was a magnificent protest. This Caesaro-papism was itself the product of Arianism in its efforts to revise the Nicene Creed. The East returned to the faith of Nicaea in the time of Theodosius but never wholly threw off the shackles of temporal domination, which even to the present day has been the chief defect of Greek Catholicism. Western Catholicism, on the other hand, strengthened the ties that bound it to Rome. St. Ambrose of Milan helped greatly in this process by his doctrine of the independence and supremacy of the Christian ministry. Greek Catholicism and Western Catholicism tended more and more to oppose each other as two mentalities and two distinct methods of government. The Roman Church sensed the danger of this disunity and bent all her energies to forward the cause of unity through the primacy of the Apostolic See. Unity and primacy were two values that she knew belonged to the past of Catholicism. . . .
To His Authority
Undoubtedly it is true that from the time of Constantine to the seventh ecumenical council (323–787) the Greek Church was often in schism from the Church of the West. . . . For 203 out of the 464 years of this period the Eastern bishops were in schism from the Apostolic See. The grounds for these schisms will hardly bear examination. One schism was in defense of Arianism, another arose over the condemnation of Chrysostom, another was the schism of Acacia, another was in regard to Monothelitism, and another was on the worship of images. In all these instances the Apostolic See was defending the orthodox faith!
It is argued by Anglo-Catholics that the general councils never consented to recognize any primacy in the bishop of Rome except the same kind of primacy that they claimed for the bishop of Constantinople. The twenty-eighth canon of Chalcedon enunciated this principle of equality between Constantinople and Rome, but Pope Leo the Great protested vigorously against this canon. The emperor Marcian intervened and compelled Anatolius, the bishop of Constantinople, who inspired this canon, to make amends to the bishop of Rome and obey the laws of the Church. Thereupon Anatolius wrote to Pope Leo that he had nothing to do with the passing of the canon but that some of his clergy had drawn it up and the bishops had voted for it. He added that the confirmation of all the acts of the Council was of course reserved to the Pope. These are his words: Cum et sic gestorum vis omnis et confirmatio auctoritate vestrae beatitudinis fuerit reservata. (“Since the whole validity and confirmation of the acts of the Council will be reserved to the authority of Your Holiness.”) This does not look like a “presidency of honor.” . . .
Luck or Providence?
It has often been said that the growth of the papacy in the early centuries, and later in the Middle Ages, was entirely due to its connection with the empire and the importance of the city of Rome as a center of world rule. But this is an argument that can be used equally well in favor of the papacy. May we not say that it was by the divine ordinance that the papacy was established in the city of Rome rather than in Constantinople or Jerusalem or Alexandria or Antioch, where it would later on be deprived of its power? Shall we call it simply a piece of good luck, or shall we ascribe it to the providence of God?
The alternative to believing that the papacy is a part of the divine constitution of the Church is to believe that it has been foisted on the Church by the machinations of evil men and the fortuitous turn of historical events. If we accept the latter alternative, then we are forced to the conclusion that the greater part of the Catholic Church has fallen into error. This involves too much, for it means that the Holy Spirit has not been guiding the Church into all truth and that our Lord was mistaken when he promised that the gates of hell should not prevail against his Church.