Showing posts with label Chair of Peter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chair of Peter. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 08, 2011

“Ooh, ooh, he said ‘chair’” – “Florilegia” (“assertions of authority”) vs. the Reformation discipline of Textual Criticism

When you’ve been involved with the sort of Protestant-vs-Roman-Catholic argumentation that we deal with on a daily basis, it’s easy to discern some patterns. As Turretin noted in the 17th century, the Roman Catholic method of defending itself is to make a claim of over-arching authority; this claim is asserted and re-asserted, as if the re-assertion carries more weight than the original assertion.

This method of argument-by-authority was very common in the early medieval years. In fact, the long lists of patristic citations that we often see have their origin in the medieval “florilegia,” which actually were books, or lists of patristics citations. The one whose list of citations was more authoritative carried the day. Peter Lombard’s “Sentences” was just such a book of citations. And once Lombard’s “Sentences” was established as authoritative, then every theologian had to “comment” on Lombard’s “Sentences”. This is just how the business was practiced back then.

The Medieval Historian Jacques Le Goff describes this practice:
Some of the sureties were especially favoured and referred to as ‘authorities’. Obviously it was in theology, the highest branch of learning, that the use of authorities found its greatest glory, and, since it was the basis of spiritual and intellectual life, it was subjected to strict regulation. The supreme authority was Scripture, and, with it, the Fathers of the Church. However, this general authority tended to take the form of quotations. In practice these became ‘authentic’ opinions and, in the end, the ‘authorities’ themselves. Since these authorities were often difficult and obscure, they were explained by glosses which themselves had to come from an ‘authentic author’ [or, an “authentic interpreter” who could “tell us what this means.”]

Very often the glosses replaced the original text.
Of all the florilegia [collections of quotations] which conveyed the results of intellectual activity in the Middle Ages, the anthologies of glosses were consulted and ransacked the most. Learning was a mosaic of quotations or ‘flowers’ which, in the twelfth century, were called ‘sentences’ (sententiae or opinions). The collections or summae of sentences were collections of authorities. Robert of Melun was already protesting in the middle of the twelfth century against according credit to glosses in these sentences, but in vain. [The 20th century Dominican theologian] Pere [Marie-Domenique] Chenu acknowledged that the sentences of the inferior thinker Peter Lombard, which was to be the theology textbook in universities in the thirteenth century, was a collection of glosses “whose sources can only be discovered with difficulty”, and furthermore that, even in the Summa Theologica of Thomas Aquinas, “one can see a largish number of texts acting as authorities which can only be identified through the distortions of the glossae.”

Of course the men who used authorities stretched their meanings to the point where they barely impeded personal opinions. Alain of Lille, in a saying which was to become proverbial, stated ‘the authority has a wax nose which can be pushed in all directions’… (Jacques Le Goff, “Medieval Civilization,” (First published in France as La Civilisation de l’Occident Medieval, © 1964 by B. Arthaud, Paris) English Translation, © 1988, 1990, Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, pgs. 325-326.)
So as we can see, Roman Catholics have been historically conditioned to swallow, unquestioningly, long, untrue assertions of authority. It wasn’t until the rise of the Reformation-era discipline of textual criticism that such things were found out and able to be catalogued.


Bryan Cross’s article on The Chair of St. Peter is not the first place where he’s listed a long string of patristic quotes to support the idea that there was some sort of notion that there was anything like an early papacy in place.

In a previous discussion when Bryan had done this, Turretinfan worked through the entire list (a) tracking down sources, (b) providing greater context, and (c) providing some much-too-kind analysis. The bottom line is that virtually none of these “patristics citations” meant what Bryan thought they did, and if they did say what he was saying, they turned out to be forgeries in some way.

Pastor David King pointed this out to Bryan Cross; in fact, in doing so, he cited the Roman Catholic theologian Yves Congar. Keep in mind who Congar was, and his importance. According to Avery Dulles, “Vatican II could almost be called Congar’s Council”. Here, in short, is the Congar quote that Bryan disagreed with. (Again, I’ll refer you to Turretinfan’s much-too-kind article and also the original source of the quote at Green Baggins for context):
it does sometimes happen that some Fathers understood a passage in a way which does not agree with later Church teaching. One example: the interpretation of Peter’s confession in Matthew 16.16-19. Except at Rome, this passage was not applied by the Fathers to the papal primacy (from Yves M.-J. Congar, Tradition and Traditions: An Historical and a Theological Essay (London: Burns & Oats, 1966), pp. 398-399).


So Rome, and Rome alone, is said to have asserted its own authority. In response to this, Bryan posted a long series of citations, which seemed to have been showing that the early church – in all places, outside of Rome, somehow thought that there was an early papacy.

Let’s look at how Bryan’s first set of citations ended up. I’ll just reproduce Turretinfan’s conclusions here, but the reader may feel free to look at T-fan’s explanations for each one of these. The cumulative effect is quite impressive:

I. In General - it is important to note up front that Bryan’s thesis itself does not contradict what Congar said....Secondly, this list is obviously cut-and-paste....Also, perhaps as an artifact of the cut-and-paste, Bryan has Hilary writing something that’s actually an amalgamation of different items, cobbled together by some editor (Bryan?).

II. Ephraim the Syrian - In short, this work is probably not a work written by Ephraim the Syrian....this work does not appear to exist in a complete English translation. This suggests to me, though obviously it does not prove it, that Mr. Cross is reliant on a secondary source that has provided him only with the quotation itself, and not with the context.

III. Hilary of Poitiers - the alleged quotation from Hilary is actually an amalgamation of various quotations, cobbled together by some editor (Bryan?)....this particular sentence has been identified as questionable - a possible later interpolation, because of its terrible Latin....So, we are at a dead end here. Is this really Hilary? Who knows! I would be surprised if it were Hilary, but it may be. Even if we assume that it is Hilary, all it shows is that Peter had some sort of primacy of honor above that of Paul (that’s not what Galatians teaches, but that’s another story). It doesn’t suggest that Peter had universal jurisdiction, nor that his superiority (of whatever kind) to Paul was passed on to someone else.

IV. Jerome - Bryan Cross provides a single quotation from Jerome .... Jerome explains himself this way ....Jerome views Damasus as leader of the church of Rome, the Roman church, not the leader of the universal church .... Moreover, Jerome acknowledges that pope Liberius likewise fell into heresy, which does not fit the modern day paradigm of Roman primacy.... “The sword of God, which is the living Word of God, strikes through the things which men of their own accord, without the authority and testimonies of Scripture, invent and think up, pretending that it is apostolic tradition.”

V. Macarius of Egypt - (a relatively obscure 4th century “saint”), .... Macarius clearly thinks that Peter is someone important (“in spite of being what he was”), but at the same time he does not paint an unrealistic picture of him.....I should point out that there is some question about the authenticity of these homilies....

VI. Cyril of Jerusalem - Bryan provided the following quotation from Cyril of Jerusalem....Let’s set aside the fact that Cyril is relating to us the fictional account of Peter’s and Paul’s showdown with Simon Magus, the first heretic. What does the text say? It gives Peter and Paul equal billing as “chief rulers of the church,” and it says Peter carries the keys of heaven....Let’s set aside the fact that Cyril is relating to us the fictional account of Peter’s and Paul’s showdown with Simon Magus, the first heretic. What does the text say? It gives Peter and Paul equal billing as “chief rulers of the church,” and it says Peter carries the keys of heaven.

VII. Basil the Great aka Basil of Caesarea - For Basil, Bryan again combined quotations.....This is one example that Basil is giving regarding the fact that a name calls to mind a whole host of different details of a person. [One of these citations was not even Basil, but “pseudo-Basil”] .... Basil of Caesarea denied explicitly the headship of any man over Christ’s Church. Yet, Mr. Cross, apparently wholly unfamiliar with the history of eastern vs. western relations, cites Basil as a proponent of papal primacy that was utterly foreign to Basil’s ecclesiology. Basil did not apply Matthew 16 to the bishop of Rome, and Mr. Cross should be ashamed of his attempt to mislead others.

VIII. Eulogius of Alexandria - Bryan provides the following quotation from the 6th century Alexandrian Eulogius .... This quotation is quite far from contradicting anything that Congar said.

IX. Sergius, Metropolitan of “(A.D. 649 A.D.)”, writing to to Pope Theodore, says -A .D. “is redundant but because the date itself is not the right year” .... [this writer is] not someone I would think of as a church father. He is writing in the middle of the 7th century, and it appears that the only extant version of his writing is something preserved by Romans at Rome.

X. St. Maximus the Confessor “(c. 650)” of Constantinople - Two quotations were provided by Mr. Cross....Tracking this one down was a little harder than some of the others....The quotation is the first half of a selection “From a letter which was written to Rome,” PG 91:137-40. More specifically, these are extracts taken from a letter of Anastasius’s Letter to John the Deacon. John the Deacon (aka Johannes Hymonides) and Anastasius, librarian of the Roman church, are both Roman.

XI. Conclusion - Congar seems to be justified in stating, “Except at Rome, this passage was not applied by the Fathers to the papal primacy; they worked out exegesis at the level of their own ecclesiological thought, more anthropological and spiritual than judicial.” [This means, when they said something about Peter, they intended it to be describing Peter the man, not any “successor”].

This may seem like somewhat of an overkill in response to Mr. Cross’ string citation of Fathers. Indeed, in the interest of fairness to Mr. Cross, I should point out that after I and Pastor King had posted sections of the above into the comment box, Mr. Cross seemed to retreat from his original position .... Of course, even this limited position seems hard to defend, beyond a few fathers suggesting that Peter himself was the rock or that Peter himself personally held the keys. And, of course, such a view does not amount to papal primacy, and consequently does not contradict Cardinal Congar’s admission that “Except at Rome, this passage was not applied by the Fathers to the papal primacy ....”

I hope the reader will find this exploration of the fathers and their writings (both authentic and spurious) to be edifying.

Note again the shape of the argument: Bryan throws up long lists of patristics quotes; this is offered, without blushing, to be an impressive bit of evidence. And the typical Protestant response is to patiently go back to each and every one of those quotations, to provide more context, and to show that in each case, the original “supporting” quote is shown to be something quite different from what is originally asserted by the Roman Catholic.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Elders, Teachers, Chairs, and Thrones: “what they knew, and when they knew it” (Part 1)

George Santayana famously defined a fanatic as “someone who redoubles his zeal whenever he has lost sight of his goal.”

Bryan Cross has published a long article on “The Chair of St. Peter”. In the fashion of a Medieval florilegium [book of sentences], it is thick with early church references to “the Throne of Peter” and “the thrones of the apostles,” etc., as if somehow this amounts to scads and scads of evidence that the papacy is what it says it is. Bryan concludes his article this way:
The testimony of the tradition we find in the Fathers and other early writers indicates a deepening awareness of the significance and authority of St. Peter’s chair, especially in grounding and preserving the fidelity and unity of the Church. But some conception of the authority of this chair seems to have been present even from the second century. [JB note: but not in the New Testament, not among the Apostles, and no significant mentions of this concept are even evident, much less explicit, until the third century.] And the clearest and most developed conception of this authority seems to have been in the particular Church of Rome, and especially in her bishops. At the same time, there is no comparable set of patristic quotations in which it is claimed that the chair of St. Peter did not hold such authority.

So the inquirer is then faced with a dilemma that in a certain respect parallels that each of us faces regarding Christ’s own claims concerning Himself. Either the Church at Rome almost immediately fell into serious error regarding her own eccesial [sic] authority and role in relation to the universal Church, and though various bishops at times disagreed with her decisions (e.g. St. Cyprian), no one ‘corrected’ her claim concerning her own authority until the time of Photius in the ninth century, or during all those centuries (and to the present) she was truly what she always claimed to be. The former option leaves us with the paradox that the Apostolic seat widely believed to be the touchstone of orthodoxy in every respect for hundreds of years, was terribly wrong about its own identity, and therefore unsuited to be anyone’s touchstone of orthodoxy.
I’ve already written extensively to the effect that the Apostolic Fathers, those writers from, say, 100-150 AD, because of their reliance on “oral tradition,” did in fact begin to lose their understanding of the Gospel of Grace. For example, T. F. Torrance, “The Doctrine of Grace in the Apostolic Fathers” is a major exegetical study of these works, tracing, point-by-point, just how these writers differ from the gospel of Grace as preached by Jesus and Paul:
T.F. Torrance aims in this book to discover how and why there came about in the early history of the Christian Church the enormous difference that exists between the faith of the New Testament and that of the second and third centuries. He explores how the concept of grace is distinctively characteristic of every doctrine of the New Testament, and yet at the same time is the most sensitive to change.
I’d commend this work to you in every way. Keep in mind that this is a major doctrine. Oscar Cullmann describes precisely how this happened:
About the year 150 there is still an oral tradition. We know this from Papias, who wrote an exposition of the words of Jesus. He tells us himself that he used as a basis the viva vox and that he attached more importance to it than to the writings. But in him we have not only this declaration of principle; for he has left us some examples of the oral tradition as he found it, and these examples show us well that we ought to think of an oral tradition about the year 150! It is entirely legendary in character. This is clear from the story that Papias reports about Joseph Barsabbas, the unsuccessful candidate, according to Acts 1:23 f., for the post of twelfth disciple rendered vacant by Judas’s treason. Above all there is the obscene and completely legendary account [in Papias] of death of Judas Iscariot himself.

The period about 150 is, on the one hand, relatively near to the apostolic age, but on the other hand, it is already too far away for the living tradition still to offer in itself the least guarantee of authenticity. The oral traditions which Papias echoes arose in the Church and were transmitted by it. For outside the Church no one had any interest in describing in such crude colours the death of the traitor. Papias was therefore deluding himself when he considered viva vox as more valuable than the written books. The oral tradition had a normative value in the period of the apostles, who were eye-witnesses, but it had it no longer in 150 after passing mouth to mouth (Oscar Cullmann, “The Tradition,” in “The Early Church,” London: SCM Press, Ltd., ©1956, pgs. 88-89).
I’ve written extensively about this process. While the fixing of the canon of the New Testament enabled a writer like Irenaeus (c. 180 ad) to recapture and understand a concept of Grace that earlier writers had lost through a reliance on “oral tradition,” it is vitally important that we understand that some of this “entirely legendary” “oral tradition” did make its way into church organization and church teachings. This is not to say that the entire church became corrupted at that moment. Rather, this process was like yeast getting into the dough (Matt 16:11-12) – it doesn’t corrupt all at once, but the festering situation led to some of the fourth and fifth and sixth century abuses that I’ve written about. And it’s vitally important that Christians understand this progression, because the enemies of Christianity today (scroll down to the “Bart Ehrman” section of this blogpost) certainly have no respect for the truth of Christianity, much less the legends.

In the spirit of “chairs” and “teaching,” and to begin to discuss just how much the meaning of this idea evolved during the early centuries of church history, I’d like to step back for a minute, to the beginning of Jesus’s ministry in Galilee, to talk about where the notion of “teaching” and “chairs” actually came from:
Jesus returned to Galilee in the power of the Spirit, and news about him spread through the whole countryside. He was teaching in their synagogues, and everyone praised him.

He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me
to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners
and recovery of sight for the blind,
to set the oppressed free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down.

The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his lips.
Understanding the Jewish synagogue system is important, not only for understanding Jesus and his ministry, but also for understanding where Christian worship came from, how it came about, and importantly, where I’d like to focus, on how the leadership structures of early Christianity developed.

People on both sides of the Roman Catholic/Protestant divide will often use the words episkopoi (“overseers”) and presbuteroi (“presbyters”) without understanding that these words had definite meanings when they are used in the New Testament. In fact, it’s remarkable how much Christianity owes, in form and function, to the Jewish synagogue.
Jesus is a pious Jew, who attends synagogue regularly. On this occasion, Jesus goes to the synagogue as was his habit on the Sabbath. This point is especially important, because Jesus’ controversy with the Jewish religious leadership may have left him with a reputation of being a religiously insensitive rebel. In fact, many of the six Sabbath passages in Luke end up in some controversy. Jesus may be pious, but the character of his piety is different from that of the Jewish leadership. On the Sabbath, Jesus will heal, meet people’s needs, and instruct them. The synagogue as a center of Jesus’ activity parallels the church’s activity around the synagogue or temple (Acts 3-4; 13). Christianity did not attempt immediately to isolate itself from Judaism. Rather, it saw itself as the natural fulfillment of Judaism’s hope. So a part of its mission was to call Jews to enter the time of fulfillment. (Darrell L. Bock, “Luke, 1:1-9:50”, “Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament”, Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, © 1994, pgs. 402-403.)
I’m amazed at just how much time, in some of the newer histories of the New Testament, is spent on “the Jewish background.” F.F. Bruce’s “New Testament History (New York: Doubleday, © 1969) for example, devotes 150 pages of a 400 page book to such topics encompassing “Judeaea under Roman Governors”, “Philosophical Schools”, “Hasidism, Pharisees and Sadducees”, “Essenes”, “Zealots”, “The Qumran Community”, and “Judaism at the Beginning of the Christian Era,” before beginning with John the Baptist.
Bock Continues:
A synagogue service had various elements: recitation of the Shema (Deut 6:4-9), prayers, a reading from the Law, a reading from the Prophets, instruction on the passages, and a benediction.

The exact nature of the synagogue service—including how fixed it was in this period—has been the subject of discussion. Though some speak of a fixed cycle of readings every three years, such a schedule in this period seems unlikely. The Hebrew Scripture would be read in a standing position in one- to three-verse units. The text was translated into Aramaic, the local language, an oral procedure that often involved targumic renderings of the text (i.e., Aramaic paraphrases of the Hebrew OT), though the translator did not read from a text in the assembly. The Torah was always read, and often a reading from the Prophets followed. After the reading came an invitation for someone to instruct the audience. Based on texts already read or on new texts, this instruction could be done by any qualified male in the audience, provided ten males were present. Jesus stood up apparently to indicate that he could speak about a passage. Jesus gave such a lesson from the prophets, what was called the Haftarah (a reading from the Prophets).

Jesus takes the scroll and unrolls it to the place from which he will give instruction. It seems that Jesus chose the reading from the Prophets and “found” the place in Isaiah from which he wanted to teach. If the text was part of a fixed reading schedule, then the scroll would have been opened at the appropriate place. This detail suggests that a reading schedule was not used, but that Jesus chose his text (Bock, 403-404).

* * *

The drama intensifies now that the eschatological passage has been read, but its exposition remains. The scroll is rolled up and returned to the attendant, who is responsible for getting and returning the scroll to the ark where it is kept. In all probability he is the hazzan of the synagogue. Jesus then sits down to teach. Teaching in a sitting position was customary (Luke 5:3; Matt 5:1; 23:2; 26:55; Mark 4:1 …). As he prepared to speak, Jesus had the crowd’s attention. The common Lucan term (atenizontes) depicts intense, focused emotion by describing the crowd’s gaze of attention. (Bock, 411).
For more on the evolution of the early papacy and the introduction of forgery by popes to enhance their own stature, see my earlier series of posts on “The See of Peter”.

Friday, July 09, 2010

Sitting in the Chair of Peter

Taking a look at Keating's "Catholicism and Fundamentalism" again, on the topic of Boettner, Keating continues:
Then comes the blooper. Boettner says, "Infallibility is not claimed for every statement made by the pope [true enough], but only for those made when he is speaking ex cathedra, that is, seated in his papal chair, the chair of St. Peter, and speaking in his official capacity as head of the church." At the end of the sentence is an asterisk, which takes the reader to this footnote: "A scientific commission appointed by pope Paul VI in July, 1968, to investigate the antiquity of the 'Chair of St. Peter' . . . reported in early 1969 that the chair dates from the late ninth century . . . ." The point is that Peter's real chair does not exist, so a Pope cannot sit in it. Since, by official decree of Vatican I, he is infallible only when sitting in Peter's chair, he cannot issue infallible definitions at all. The Catholic Church is refuted by its own archaeology!

Boettner entirely misconstrues the meaning of ex cathedra. ...
Or does he? Keating runs on in this same way for a while, but "the Chair of Peter" was construed as a real, genuine chair by Optatus of Mileve, whom Aidan Nichols, in his "The Theology of Joseph Ratzinger," refers to as "Ratzinger's ecclesiological master in the African trio of Augustine's predecessors..." (pg 39).

Here's what Optatus (c. 370) said of "the Chair of Peter":
We must note who first established a see and where. If you do not know, admit it. If you do know, feel your shame. I cannot charge you with ignorance, for you plainly know. It is a sin to err knowingly, although an ignorant person may be blind to his error. But you cannot deny that you know that the episcopal seat ["cathedra"] was established first in the city of Rome by Peter and that in it sat Peter, the head of all the apostles, wherefore he is called Cephas. So in this one seat unity is maintained by everyone, that the other apostles might not claim separate seats, each for himself. Accordingly, he who erects another seat in opposition to that one is a schismatic and a sinner. Therefore, Peter was the first to sit in that one seat, which is the first gift of the Church. To him succeeded Linus. Clement followed Linus. Then Anacletus Clement ... [he gives the list of popes down to his own time]. After Damasus, Siricius, who is our contemporary, with whom our whole world is in accord by interchange of letters in one bond of communion. Do you, if you would claim for yourselves a holy church, explain the origin of your seat. (Cited in Shotwell and Loomis, "The See of Peter," pgs 111-112, writing to the Donatists.)
According to the editors, "not only, he says, was Peter 'head of the apostles' and the first bishop of Rome, but his bishopric at Rome was the first to be established anywhere in the Church. It was the original episcopate. The claim, however, was excessive even for that credulous age. It violated such widely accepted ideas as those of the bishopric of James the apostle at Jerusalem, and of Peter's foundation of the bishopric at Antioch." (111)