Over the last month we reviewed the history of Roman Catholicism’s use of the Council of Sardica to claim Roman Primacy, focusing last week on Pope Zosimus’ and Pope Leo’s attempts to stamp that alleged primacy with Nicene authority. It was under their pontificates—and the intervening pontificates of Boniface, Celestine and Sixtus III—that the canons of Sardica (343 A.D.) were circulated as if they were the canons of Nicæa (325 A.D.), and thus were used to advance two errors simultaneously: 1) the claim that the Council of Sardica had affirmed Roman Primacy, and 2) the claim that Roman Primacy had manifested as early as the Nicene era. The error of Zosimus and the fraud of Leo are just one example of what we see consistently in Roman Catholicism: the attempt to stamp novel and idolatrous practices with Nicene and ante-Nicene authenticity. The more distant the origins of the idolatry from Nicæa , the more creative the historical revisionism necessary to “prove” the antiquity of the practice. Relic veneration is one more example of this propensity in Roman apologetics. Continue reading Diggin’ Up Bones
All posts by Timothy F. Kauffman
Anatomy of A Deception (part 4)
Last week we concluded our analysis of the Council of Sardica in 343 A.D., as well as the correspondence leading up to it. As we noted, the council recognized Roman metropolitanism, but not Roman primacy. It is true that bishop Hosius said that those who choose to appeal in Rome should submit their appeal through Julius, the metropolitan bishop there. But he also said that any metropolitan in any metropolis in any province could handle appeals as well. The venue for appeal was up to the accused (Sardica, Canon 5), “[b]ut those who come to Rome ought” to appeal through Julius in memory of Peter (Sardica, Canon 9). Hosius’ particular reference to Rome was not because of Roman primacy but rather due to the fact that he had been commissioned to review the facts of the case, and the facts of the case included Athanasius’ appeal to Julius in Rome. When the facts of the case were related to an appeal to Alexandria (as in Canon 14), the deposed clergyman was “to take refuge with the bishop of the metropolis” in his province without demanding a resolution “in advance of the decision of his case.” Likewise, the deposing bishop was not to “take it ill that examination of the case be made, and his decision confirmed or revised.” Whether the matter related to Athanasius’ deposition, or Ischyras’ deposition, Constantine’s rules of appeal were to be followed. Instead of advancing the case of Roman primacy, bishop Hosius had rather codified the primacy of the Constantinian appeals process that widely expanded access to justice and minimized direct appeals to the Imperial Court, while keeping his court open as the final venue of appeal. Even the court in Rome was required by Sardica to compile its findings and “send them to the Court” of the Emperor for ratification (Sardica, Canon 9). Continue reading Anatomy of A Deception (part 4)
Anatomy of a Deception (part 3)
Last week, we examined Hosius of Spain, and his more than five decade career as an accomplished jurist and prominent bishop, especially his efforts to codify Constantine’s judicial reforms in the canons of the church. Once the data is evaluated, it becomes very clear that when the Council of Sardica was convened—bishop Hosius presiding—its purpose was to evaluate the evidence collected and the sententiam issued by the lower court in Rome and prepare a judgment to forward to the Emperor in order, finally, to settle the dispute. The whole process was taking place under the rubric of Constantine’s judicial reforms. Julius’ complaint to the Eusebian (Arian) party, therefore, was not that they had failed to recognize Roman primacy, but rather that they had failed to comply with their obligations under Constantine’s reformed judiciary. Continue reading Anatomy of a Deception (part 3)
Anatomy of a Deception (part 2)
Last week we discussed the Roman Catholic argument from the events leading up to and surrounding the Council of Sardica in 343 A.D.—particularly the claim that “pope” Julius of Rome asserted papal primacy in his letter to the Eusebian party at Antioch, as well as the claim that the Council of Sardica confirmed it. As we showed last week, Julius actually denied papal and Roman primacy, and rebuked the appellants in Antioch for writing to him alone when they should have written “to us all” so that “all” could render a decision together. Their failure to write to everyone (instead of Rome alone) was a violation of Church canon. Continue reading Anatomy of a Deception (part 2)
Anatomy of a Deception (part 1)
Last week we concluded an eight-week series on the Early Church’s position on papal, Roman and Petrine primacy. As we demonstrated, the Early Church did not want or seek a chief earthly metropolis, did not recognize a chief episcopate in Rome, and did not believe there was a visible chief shepherd on earth. Her Chief Shepherd ruled the Church from heaven. Further, the early Church believed that every lawfully elected bishop on earth was a successor to St. Peter and sat in his Chair, and on some occasions it was necessary to correct, rebuke and separate from the bishop of Rome in order to preserve the Petrine unity of the Church. Continue reading Anatomy of a Deception (part 1)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 8)
This week we conclude our series on the invisibly shepherded church. When we left off last week, we showed that Cyprian believed that to be truly “one,” the Church must be united with the chair of St. Peter. If we were to back-load that statement with all the trappings of modern papal claims, it would appear that Cyprian held to Roman, Petrine and papal primacy. In reality, Cyprian believed that every bishop possessed the “keys” and sat in “the chair” of St. Peter, and Cyprian actually invoked that Petrine prerogative as the basis for separating from the bishop of Rome. The “rock” upon which Christ had built His Church was the rock of the confessing church, and Cyprian believed that “pope” Stephen had wavered in that confession. If Cyprian believed that the bishop of Rome could be cut off in order to preserve the Petrine unity of the Church and to preserve the integrity of its foundation, we can be confident that Cyprian did not refer to “the chair of St. Peter” or “the rock” of Matthew 16:18 in the same way that Rome and her apologists do today. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 8)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 7)
We continue this week with our series on the invisibly shepherded Church. Our focus has been to show that for the first three centuries of Christianity, the church was unaware of a strong central episcopate to which she was to look for unity of faith and practice. To the contrary, the early church marveled at the fact that the churches dispersed throughout the world were bound together in unity and faith without a strong central episcopate to govern them. We have been spending considerable time with Irenæus and Cyprian largely because of the weight of their historical testimony, but also because their historical testimony has been conscripted to serve the objectives of Roman Catholic apologists.
Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 7)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 6)
In our series on the invisibly shepherded Church, two names necessarily stand out because of the weight of their historical testimony—Irenæus and Cyprian. We addressed Irenæus last week because Roman Catholicism misreads his testimony in Book III, chapter 3 of Against Heresies to mean that all churches everywhere must agree with Rome. In context, Irenæus had all churches everywhere guarding apostolic truth, and frequently meeting with Rome to correct her, not to submit to her. This week we will address Cyprian who again is the victim of Roman apologists who attempt to make his words carry much, much more than their context will allow. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 6)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 5)
Last week we spent some time analyzing the thoughts of Tertullian and Origen on the concept of a strong central episcopate to rule the Early Church. As we have shown, the very idea was not only foreign to them, but also repugnant. They relied on the Scriptures, the Holy Spirit and the Chief Shepherd in heaven to guard the church, even in times when there were known disagreements among men. Christ, His Spirit, and His Scriptures provided the solutions to whatever ailed the Early Church. The Church did not desire, and did not seek, a visible chief shepherd for this task. Tertullian rejected the pretenses of ostensibly “papal” edicts from a fallible “bishop of bishops,” and insisted that men ought rather to “imbibe the Scriptures of that Shepherd who cannot be broken” (Tertullian, On Modesty, chapter 10). Origen rejected the carnality of an earthly chief city, and insisted that Christians instead “have the heavenly Jerusalem as their metropolis” (Origen, De Principiis, Book IV, chapter 22). Such statements, so forceful and adamant, can hardly be construed as support for the early rise of papal and Roman primacy that Roman Catholics earnestly desire to find in the post-apostolic era. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 5)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 4)
Last week, we continued our series on the invisibly shepherded Church by showing from the Shepherd of Hermas and the Epistle of Mathetes that the idea of a central metropolis, or a visible chief shepherd on earth, was foreign to the Early Church. The former had “St. Michael” rather than Peter’s successors, governing the Church, and the latter understood that Christians had no “cities of their own,” and owed their unity not to an earthly ruler “as one might have imagined,” but to a heavenly one, for “seeking to hold the supremacy” over one’s neighbor was altogether inconsistent with the majesty of God’s kingdom. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 4)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 3)
Last week we spent some time analyzing the Roman Catholic propensity for finding Roman and Papal primacy in the Early Church Fathers, focusing particularly on Bryan Cross’s article, “St. Ignatius of Antioch on the Church,” at Called to Communion. As we noted, Cross labors to find evidence of early Roman Primacy, and early evidence of submission to it, in Ignatius’ letter to the Romans, but can do so only by ignoring the broader collegiality that existed within the burgeoning Early Church. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 3)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 2)
Last week we discussed the fact that the apostles went from city to city proclaiming the gospel, ordaining elders and teaching them. When they knew their ministry was approaching its end, the apostles entrusted the sheep to the Holy Spirit and His Word, and implored the sheep to beware the soon rise of false apostles who would attempt to lead them astray:
“[A]fter my departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, not sparing the flock. Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking perverse things, to draw away disciples after them.” (Acts 20:29-30)
“[T]here shall be false teachers among you, who privily shall bring in damnable heresies, even denying the Lord that bought them, and bring upon themselves swift destruction. And many shall follow their pernicious ways;” (2 Peter 2:1-2)
Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 2)
The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 1)
When Peter knew that he was about to fold up his earthly tent and go home, he did not commend the sheep of “Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia” (1 Peter 1:1) to his ‘successor’ in Rome. He commended them to their local congregations where they would be fed (1 Peter 5:1-3), and to the Bishop of Souls (1 Peter 2:25), for they were “kept by the power of God,” not by the power of Rome, “through faith unto salvation” (1 Peter 1:5). It was the “chief Shepherd,” Jesus Christ, to Whom the local shepherds would be accountable on the Last Day (1 Peter 5:4). The sheep were to submit to the local shepherds (1 Peter 5:5), knowing that the local shepherds would one day answer to the Chief, “for He careth for you” (1 Peter 5:7). Whatever trials might arise, they were not to be dismayed, for they were not alone — “the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world” (1 Peter 5:9). The sheep were to press on in faith, entrusting “the keeping of their souls” to God, “as unto a faithful Creator” (1 Peter 4:19), for their incorruptible inheritance was “reserved in heaven for you” (1 Peter 1:4), and it was in their local congregations that God would preserve them. Continue reading The Visible Apostolicity of the Invisibly Shepherded Church (part 1)
The Fifth Empire (part 4)
In the last three weeks we have spent a little time discussing various interpretations of Daniel 2 in which a Stone “cut without hands” (Daniel 2:34) strikes the statue of Nebuchadnezzar’s vision. The Statue depicts a succession of Four Empires—Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome. It has legs of iron, signifying the strength of Rome (Daniel 2:40), but has feet of iron and clay, signifying that “the kingdom shall be divided” for the kings of the Fourth Empire “shall mingle themselves with the seed of men” (Daniel 2:41, 43). The Stone strikes the Statue “upon his feet that were of iron and clay” (Daniel 2:34). Continue reading The Fifth Empire (part 4)
The Fifth Empire (part 3)
Last week, after describing the two judicial movements in each vision of Daniel 2 and Daniel 7, we touched briefly on the distinction between possessing a heavenly kingdom and having dominion over an earthly one. They are not the same thing, and Roman Catholicism has confused the former for the latter. As we mentioned previously, Taylor Marshall in his book, The Eternal City, thinks he has found in Roman Catholicism the bride of Christ because Roman Catholicism took dominion after the collapse of the Roman Empire: Continue reading The Fifth Empire (part 3)
The Fifth Empire (part 2)
Last week, we started a discussion on the Four Empires depicted in the visions of Daniel chapters 2 and 7—Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece and Rome. As we demonstrated with citations from Early Church Fathers, a Roman Catholic apologist and a Protestant commentary, the judgment scene in Daniel 7 is typically collapsed into a single event in which the Fourth Beast (Rome) and the Little Horn (the Antichrist) are destroyed together. It is typical for the judgment scene in Daniel 2—the Stone striking the statue of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream—to be depicted in the same way: as a single act of judgment against the series of empires. But in both chapters, the text and the context convey an extended judgment, and Daniel 7 explicitly states that after the initial act of judgment against the body of the Fourth Beast, the lives of the preceding empires are granted a continuance of sorts.
The Fifth Empire (part 1)
The statue of Nebuchadnezzar’s dream, as depicted in Daniel chapter 2, has been the object of considerable study and speculation since Daniel first understood and revealed the dream. The statue represents four kingdoms that will come upon the earth, beginning with, and including, Nebuchadnezzar’s (Daniel 2:37-40). The “head was of fine gold, his breast and his arms of silver, his belly and his thighs of brass, His legs of iron, his feet part of iron and part of clay” (Daniel 2:22-32). These represented the current and coming world empires—Babylon, Medo-Persia, Greece, and Rome. As Daniel explains, the fourth kingdom starts with the strength of iron, but its Feet and Toes are part iron and part clay, which is to signify that the once strong kingdom “shall be divided” but with “the strength of the iron” (Daniel 2:41). In this vision, a stone carved without hands “smote the image upon his feet that were of iron and clay” (Daniel 2:34) and “it brake in pieces the iron, the brass, the clay, the silver, and the gold” (Daniel 2:45). As Daniel explains, the meaning of the stone is that “in the days of these kings shall the God of heaven set up a kingdom, which shall never be destroyed” (Daniel 2:44). Continue reading The Fifth Empire (part 1)
The Great Write-in Write-out Campaign
We concluded our last series on The Sacrifice Challenge with a few citations from Cyril of Jerusalem, so we thought it opportune to use him to demonstrate one of the ways Rome “finds” her doctrines in the Early Church. As we noted last week, Cyril’s Catechetical Lectures were part of a late-fourth century trend during which Rome’s novel Mass Sacrifice was invented. Catholic Answers used a few select quotes to prove Cyril’s belief in transubstantiation, but as we demonstrated, those quotes were truncated in order to isolate them from their context, and Cyril—even in the midst of his other errors—nevertheless maintained his conviction that the elements of the Lord’s Supper were only figuratively Christ’s body and blood, and remained so even after the consecration.
Continue reading The Great Write-in Write-out Campaign
Their Praise was their Sacrifice (part 8)
This week we conclude our series on The Sacrifice Challenge. Continue reading Their Praise was their Sacrifice (part 8)
Their Praise was their Sacrifice (part 7)
We continue this week with our analysis of Malachi 1:11 as understood by the Early Church. This series is a response to The Sacrifice Challenge, a challenge issued by Roman Catholic apologists who believe that the only possible fulfillment of Malachi 1:11 is Roman Catholicism’s sacrifice of the Mass. The Early Church, however, saw the sacrifice and incense of Malachi 1:11 to be “simple prayer from a pure conscience,” not a sacrifice of bread and wine. Continue reading Their Praise was their Sacrifice (part 7)