Cullmann on Kerygma, Gospel, Tradition and Apostolic Authority

And beginning with Moses an all prophets, he interpreted to them in all the scriptures the things concerning himself. And their eyes were opened and they knew him. They said to each other, Did not our hearts burn within us . . . while he opened to us the scriptures? (Luke 24:27, 31, 32).

Thus begins Cullmann’s account of “The Tradition,” from which I’ve cited several times now, and which, I have heard from someone reliable, is probably the best account of the relationship of “scripture and tradition”. As I work through this, of course, I’ll check Cullmann’s analysis against other writers on the topic, and of course, against the witness of Scripture.

Last time I cited Bryan Cross’s view of succession (in contrast to Sullivan’s). In the recent Catholic Answers thread that bore my name, some of the folks there were a bit saddened that I didn’t stay and answer all their questions. Of course, I answered a number of their questions, but there ended up being more than 400 comments and I just didn’t get to read all of them, much less respond to them. One of the writers there, Pete Holter, a (as I understand it) former Reformed believer, provided this account (somewhat abbreviated):

God the Father passed His authority on to Jesus (cf. Matthew 28:18), Who passed it on to the apostles (cf. Luke 10:16 and Matthew 28:19), who passed it on to their successors.

This “passing on,” in the Roman Catholic account, takes a similar flow as that given in shorthand form by many Roman Catholics. In many of these accounts, indeed, in the official account, the words “authority” and “tradition” and “succession” sort of get muddled together until, in the Roman Catholic mind, there is just one thing: and the Roman Catholic Church and its teachings and Magisterium have the very authority of God on earth. It’s been that way since the muddling, and that’s good enough for us!

I think Cullman’s “The Tradition” admirably isolates those threads – authority and tradition and succession – he defines them well, and he talks about what genuinely gets “handed on” from God, what just sort of gets picked up along the way, and what gets distorted.

My copy of this article is found within Cullmann’s 1956 collection of essays, “The Early Church” (London: SCM Press Ltd). In his own words:

Firstly, I shall try to prove that the New Testament regards the Lord exalted to the right hand of God as the direct author of the tradition of the apostles, because he himself is at work in the apostolic transmission of his words and deeds. Secondly, by examining the conception of the apostolate, I shall attempt to determine the connection between the apostolic tradition and the post-apostolic tradition, and the difference between them. Thirdly, I shall enquire whether this distinction is confirmed by the history of the early Church, and whether, in creating the canon, the Church itself deliberately separated apostolic from ecclesiastical tradition, so as to make the former the norm of the latter (pg. 59)

Over the next couple of posts, I'd like to follow Cullmann's account, bringing in other information as I go. Christ, of course, is the final and perfect Revelation of God. As the writer to the Hebrews begins by saying, “In the past God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets at many times and in various ways, but in these last days he has spoken to us by his Son, whom he appointed heir of all things, and through whom also he made the universe. The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.”

Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”

Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me (John 14:8-11).

But God does not give an unclear view of himself in the Old Testament, and it is this God we see when we see Christ.

Tune in to “Called to Communion” for more obfuscation

In 1953, the Lutheran theologian Oscar Cullmann produced a work, “Peter: Disciple, Apostle, Martyr,” which traced virtually every single piece of theological (Biblical) and historical and literary and archaeological evidence about the life and death of Peter. It is this work, in my opinion, that really forced Rome to re-think what the papacy was all about.

Consider what Vatican I pronounced about the power and function of the papacy:

Wherefore we teach and declare that, by divine ordinance, the Roman Church possesses a pre-eminence of ordinary power over every other Church, and that this jurisdictional power of the Roman Pontiff is both episcopal and immediate. Both clergy and faithful, of whatever rite and dignity, both singly and collectively, are bound to submit to this power by the duty of hierarchical subordination and true obedience, and this not only in matters concerning faith and morals, but also in those which regard the discipline and government of the Church throughout the world….

So, then, if anyone says that the Roman Pontiff has merely an office of supervision and guidance, and not the full and supreme power of jurisdiction over the whole Church, and this not only in matters of faith and morals, but also in those which concern the discipline and government of the Church dispersed throughout the whole world; or that he has only the principal part, but not the absolute fullness, of this supreme power; or that this power of his is not ordinary and immediate both over all and each of the Churches and over all and each of the pastors and faithful: let him be anathema.

This was no soft-and-squishy doctrine. Adrian Fortescue, writing in his 1920 work, “The Early Papacy: to the Synod of Chalcedon in 451,” made this bold statement: “We have all the evidence we can require that the Catholic Church in the first four and a half centuries did believe what we believe [now] about the papacy” (pg 30). Clement, in his letter [1 Clement], commands the Corinthians to return to the obedience of their lawful hierarchy. He does not advise; he commands. He commands with an authority, one would almost say with an arbitrary tone, that has not been exceeded by any modern Pope.

Fortescue, who was among other things a writer for the “Catholic Encyclopedia,” was a mainstream writer during that era. And Pius XII demonstrated that statement in spades, by making an infallible pronouncement that all Roman Catholics were to believe, and he let the consequences be known that “It is forbidden to any man to change this, our declaration, pronouncement, and definition or, by rash attempt, to oppose and counter it. If any man should presume to make such an attempt, let him know that he will incur the wrath of Almighty God and of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.

Such was the certainty of the papacy in itself, during what Patrick Buchanan referred to as the real Catholic Moment in America.

Yet just 10-15 years later, after all of that certainty, Vatican II was not only tinkering with the infallible papal formula, but making major changes to it. The “command economy” of Rome became one “communion,” the church, “governed by the successor of Peter and by the Bishops in communion with him, (13*) .... [(13*) Dieitur. Saneta (catholica apostolica) Romana Ecelesia .: in Prof. fidei Trid., 1. c. et Concl. Vat. I, Sess. III, Const. dogm. de fide cath.: Denz. 1782 (3001).]” That citation, 13*, which is given in the Vatican II document Lumen Gentium, by the way, comes from Vatican I. (It’s fascinating to see how Vatican II cite’s Vatican I, and all the things that they leave out).

Vatican II goes on to describe this “communion” of popes to bishops: Just as in the Gospel, the Lord so disposing, St. Peter and the other apostles constitute one apostolic college, so in a similar way the Roman Pontiff, the successor of Peter, and the bishops, the successors of the apostles, are joined together…: Let’s go back a bit further and see the picture that Vatican I uses to describe this “communion,” the state of this relationship:

But now, with the bishops of the whole world sitting and judging with Us [i.e., “Me”], gathered together in this Ecumenical Council by Our [i.e., “My”] authority in the Holy Spirit, We [i.e., “I”], having relied on the Word of God, written and transmitted as We [i.e., “I”] have received it, sacredly guarded and accurately explained by the Catholic Church, from this chair of PETER [CAPS in Denzinger], in the sight of all, have determined to profess and declare the salutary doctrine of Christ, after contrary errors have been proscribed and condemned by the power transmitted to Us [i.e., “to Me”] by God.

The holy, Catholic, Apostolic, Roman Church believes and confesses .... (from Denzinger, the selection cited by Vatican II.)

Some day, when I have time, Lord willing, I’ll try to reproduce some of the things that Pius IX actually said about any of the bishops who dared to challenge his program.

Nevertheless, it is said that Vatican II completed the teaching of Vatican I on the subject of the relationship of bishops to popes. There is now an ongoing effort to try to understand the proper role between bishops and popes, because there are some very different looking images put forward.

Karl Barth jokingly referred to Cullmann as “an advisor to three popes.” And there can be no question that Cullmann’s work on Peter was one of a number of scholarly works that, shall we say, provided the impetus to re-explore and even to “reformulate positively” the actual role of Peter vis a vis the other apostles (and hence, the role of “the successor of Peter” vis a vis the successors of the other apostles).

It would seem as if a Protestant work that had the impact that Cullmann’s work had, coulda, woulda, and shoulda been responded to. And yet, here is Cullmann’s own account of the Roman Catholic response to that work:

In … most of the Catholic reviews of my book on St. Peter, one argument especially is brought forward: scripture, a collection of books, is not sufficient to actualize for us the divine revelation granted to the apostles.

This, as we have seen, is “The Roman Answer,” no matter what the question is in these discussions. “Scripture, a collection of books, is not sufficient to actualize for us the divine revelation granted to the apostles.”

This is precisely the objection that Michael Liccione makes in his response to Keith Mathison’s piece. Entitled Mathison's Reply to Cross and Judisch: A Largely Philosophical Critique, Liccione, in a way similar to the way described by Cullmann, largely ignores Mathison’s work – deliberately choosing to avoid the historical challenges to the Roman position, instead focusing on the “interpretive paradigm”.

And of course, “the interpretive paradigm” comes down to this:

For example, the Protestant has no way, other than fallible arguments, to secure his account of what belongs in the canon, which account, in the case of the OT, runs counter to what the older traditions of Catholicism and Orthodoxy eventually concluded. Therefore, he has no way, other than the use of fallible arguments, to show how the canon should be identified. And if he doesn’t have more than that, then he has no way of making certain that the way he identifies the norma Normans for the other secondary authorities is correct.

In other words, “Protestants can’t infallibly “secure” the New Testament canon, therefore, the “interpretive paradigm” put forth by Rome is the correct one.” Liccione throws out thousands of words for the purpose of re-hashing the canon issue.

In my initial response to the Called to Communion discussions about Mathison’s article, I spoke of the need to “take Rome’s claims off the table”. If the Roman Catholic claim to authority does not stand on its own, then no amount of other objections will make it right. I mentioned that these apologetic arguments, from the Roman Catholic side, always seem to boil down to this: “Protestantism has problems; therefore, the Roman Catholic Church is what it says it is.”

Liccione’s article is merely a distraction. Liccione is avoiding the bulk of Mathison’s article – the historical challenges to Rome’s claims – because he cannot make a cogent response to them. And yet, the historical work that’s being done has persuaded official Rome to adjust its theology of the papacy, and of the Roman church itself. It is a slow, laborious process, and some are only being dragged kicking and screaming.

Mathison dealt squarely and thoroughly with “The Church that Christ Founded.” He showed it really to be as much of a fairy tale as “The Great and Powerful Oz,” with fire and smoke billowing. But that Oz, that Roman Catholic Church, is just a hollow image.

The real “Church that Christ founded” us dispersed among Christ’s true believers who “gather in my name,” who understand what Christ has truly done for them (Gal 1:6-9) and who are united by the Holy Spirit. It is a Spirit who “blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”

On the other hand,

Oscar Cullmann on the relationship between oral tradition and the canon of the New Testament, part 2

Continuing from my previous post.

Slight clarification here. In the citation from Cullmann that follows, he is using the words "apostolic tradition" to describe "the sum of what the Apostles taught, both orally and in written form." He makes a distinction between "apostolic tradition," which was the definitive, eyewitness testimony of the Apostles, and what later became "ecclesiastical tradition," that is, the traditions of the church.

Cullmann is in the process of making the case that the canon of the New Testament became fixed, as a necessity, because of the damage that was being inflicted by various gnostic heresies: "oral" tradition was no longer reliable because it was becoming an admixture of too many things. The only reliable "apostolic tradition" was that which had been written down by the apostles and their associates during the lifetimes of the apostles.

By establishing the principle of a canon the Church recognized that from that time the tradition was no longer a criterion of truth. It drew a line under the apostolic tradition. It declared implicitly that from that time every subsequent tradition must be submitted to the control of the aposotlic tradition. That is, it declared: here is the tradition which constituted the Church, which forced itself upon it. Certainly the Church did not intend to thereby put an end to the continued evolution of the tradition. But by what we might all an act of humility it submitted all subsequent tradition to be elaborated by itself to the superior criterion of the apostolic tradition, codified in the Holy Scriptures.

To establish a canon is equivalent to saying this: henceforth our ecclesiastical tradition needs to be controlled; with the help of the Holy Spirit it will be controlled by the apostolic tradition fixed in writing; for we are getting to the point where we are too distant from the apostolic age to be able to guard the purity of the tradition without a superior written norm, and too distant to prevent slight legendary and other deformations creeping in, and thus being transmitted and amplified(90).

Well, while the early church understood the danger of "legendary and other deformations creeping in, thus being transmitted and amplified," it would seem that this has become the creed of the Roman Catholic Church: "We know that legendary and other deformations have crept into our dogmas, where they are transmitted and amplified. And we embrace these legendary and other deformations, and we press them on the consciences of loyal Roman Catholics."

But I digress. After some further justification of the process above: the need to fix a norm by fixing the Canon of the New Testament, Cullman notes something about the character of the Apostolic Fathers that I had noticed and have even commented on, but have not until this time been able to put it all together:

For a long time it has been noted that, apart from the letters of Ignatius, the writings of the so-called Apostolic Fathers, who do not really belong to the Apostolic age but to the beginning of the second century—[1 Clement, Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas]—despite their theological interest, are to a considerable distance from New Testament thought, and to a considerable extent relapse into a moralism which ignores the notion of grace, and of the redemptive death of Christ, so central to apostolic theology. [See Torrance’s “The Doctrine of Grace in the Apostolic Fathers,” 1948].

It has also been noted that the Church Fathers who wrote after 150—Irenaeus and Tertullian—although chronologically more remote from the New Testament than the authors of the first half of the century, understood infinitely better the essence of the gospel. This seems paradoxical, but is explained perfectly by that most important act, the codification of the apostolic tradition in a canon, henceforward the superior norm of all tradition.

The Fathers of the first half of the century wrote at a period when the writings of the New Testament already existed, but without being vested with canonical authority, and so set apart. Therefore they did not have any norm at their disposal, and, on the other hand, and on the other hand, they were already too far distant from the apostolic age to be able to draw directly on the testimony of eye-witnesses. The encounters of Polycarp and Papias with apostolic persons could no longer guarantee a pure transmission of authentic traditions, as is proved by the extant fragments of their writings.

But after 150 contact with the apostolic age was re-established through the construction of the canon, which discarded all impure and deformed sources of information. Thus it is confirmed that, by subordinating all subsequent tradition to the canon, the Church once and for all saved its apostolic basis. It enabled its members to hear, thanks to this canon, continually afresh and throughout all the centuries to come the authentic word of the apostles, a privilege which no oral tradition, passing through Polycarp or Papias, could have assured them (96).

The written fixation of the witness of the apostles is one of the essential facts of the incarnation. The church of 150 AD consciously set about to formulate a canon, to put an end to the numerous apocryphal works that had been appearing in the first part of the second century, fueling the expansion of the different heresies.

Andreas Kostenberger and Michael Kruger largely concur with this process, adding that first, the Apostles would have been more than familiar with the concept of covenant, the need for covenant documents. The books of Moses provided this very set of documentation. In their own era, there were, of course, the Apostles saw to o that the Gospels, and the various letters that they knew had been written. Kostenberger and Kruger then note:

Although the term “closed canon” is most commonly used to refer to fourth-century ecclesiastical decisions, there is a real sense in which the canon, in principle, was “closed” long before that time. In the Muratorian Fragment (c. 170), the very popular Shepherd of Hermas is mentioned as a book that can be read by the church but is rejected as canonical. The grounds for this rejection are due to the fact that it was written “very recently, in our own times.” In other words, the author of the fragment reflects the conviction that early Christians were not willing to accept books written in the second century or later, but had restricted themselves to books from the apostolic time period. They seemed to have understood that the apostolic phase of redemptive history was uniquely the time when canonical books were produced. [Jason Engwer has commented on this section, noting that they could have expanded this so much more than they did. See here.]

Thus, from this perspective, the canon was “closed” by the beginning of the second century. After this time (and long before Athanasius), the church was not “open” to more books, but instead was engaged in discussions about which books God had already given. In other words, due to the theological conviction of the early Christians about the foundational role of the apostles, there was a built-in sense that the canon was “closed” after the apostolic time period had ended.

Note that the books themselves carried the marks of “canonicity.” Kostenberger and Kruger cite Herman Ridderbos:

When understood in terms of the history of redemption, the canon cannot be open; in principle it must be closed. That follows directly from the unique and exclusive nature of the power of the apostles received from Christ and from the commission he gave to them to be witnesses to what they had seen and heard of the salvation he had brought. The result of this power and commission os the foundation of the church and the creation of the canon, and therefore these are naturally unrepeatable and exclusive in character.

Meanwhile, it was not the authority of “the Church” which determined the canon. In reality, as Cullmann notes, it was the decision of the church (in fixing the canon) determined that “oral tradition” was becoming too corrupted to be useful.

By establishing the principle of a canon the Church recognized that from that time the tradition was no longer a criterion of truth.

Oscar Cullmann on the relationship between oral tradition and the canon of the New Testament, part 1

There is a discussion going on at Green Baggins on the topic of Oral Tradition. I contributed the following, which I've expanded and edited a bit; this has also gotten long enough that I'm going to relate it in two posts:

Nick asked: The $64 million question is: how do you know these inspired oral teachings were eventually enscripturated?

In his work, "Scripture and Tradition," (c) 1956, Oscar Cullman noted that something like this was precisely the Roman Catholic response to his 1953 work, “Peter: Disciple, Apostle, Martyr”.

One argument especially is brought forward: scripture, a collection of books, is not sufficient to actualize for us the divine revelation granted to the apostles. (Oscar Cullmann, “The Early Church,” London: SCM Press LTD., pg 57.

Some things don’t change.

Fortunately, Cullmann had the background and resources in his day to research the issues and to think it through. One of the things that I’m most excited about in reading Kostenberger and Kruger’s “The Heresy of Orthodoxy” is that they make essentially the same argument, and relate essentially the same facts.

I’m not sure why this work hasn’t been picked up by more Protestants. Cullmann puts forth this argument:

1. For Paul, the paradosis (“oral tradition”), in so far as it refers to the confession of faith and to the words and deeds of Jesus, has a parallel in the Jewish concept of paradosis.

2. This tradition relates to the direct apokalypsis of the Lord to the Apostles. That is, the office of the Apostles was unique because they provided unique eyewitness testimony to the life of Christ.

3. This tradition lived and died with the apostolic office. No other source had the eyewitness authority of the Apostles.

4. The development of the canon was a conscious decision on the part of the earliest church, born from the consciousness of the heresies spinning out of control, to establish a superior written norm, and to stake out the boundaries of orthodoxy and heresy.

Essentially, he says, the early church made a key distinction between “apostolic tradition,” that is, what the Apostles taught orally and in writing, and “post-apostolic” or “ecclesiastical” tradition.

This is the place to speak about the establishment of the canon by the Church of the second century. This again is an event of capital importance for the history of salvation. We are in complete agreement with Catholic theology in its insistence on the fact that the Church itself made the canon. We even find in this fact the supreme argument for our demonstration. The fixing of the Christian canon of scripture means that the Church itself, at a given time, traced a clear and definite line of demarcation between the period of the apostles and that of the Church, between the time of foundation and that of construction, between the apostolic community and the Church of the bishops, in other words, between apostolic and ecclesiastical tradition. Otherwise, the formation of the canon would be meaningless.

We must recall the situation that led the Church to conceive the idea of a canon. 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 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 (Cullmann, 88-89).

[It's important to note here that, while Cullman capitalizes the word "church," he uses the word in the proper sense; not in the sense that Roman Catholics use the word.]

What Cullman relates here is that the church (as reported by Papias) had greatly valued the living voice of the Apostles. But they recognized the thing that we (Protestants) have all along been saying: the “living voice” is not a reliable transmitter, after a point. As with the game of “telephone,” where a message becomes badly distorted after being passed from person to person, the value of this “living tradition” had seriously degraded.

The traditions reported by Papias are not the only ones. From the same period we have the first apocryphal Gospels, which were collections of other oral traditions. It is sufficient to read these Gospels, one of which tells of the infant Jesus making living sparrows, carrying water in his apron, and miraculously killing companions who were annoying him, or to read the numerous apocryphal Acts, in order to realize that the tradition, in the Church, no longer offered any guarantee of truth, even when it claimed a chain of succession. For all these traditions were justified by [various chains] of transmission reaching back to the apostles. Papias himself also makes this claim when he says that he got his information from people who had been in contact with the apostles. The teaching office of the Church in itself did not suffice to preserve the purity of the gospel (88-90).

This selection is long enough for now. But I wanted to make the essential point: the early church did recognize the weakness of relying on "the living voice."


For more information, see also: Jason Engwer's series on The New Testament Canon.

Some concluding thoughts from the Called to Communion discussion 1

I’ve mentioned in the past that the issue of the early papacy (or rather the non-existent early papacy) is the “soft underbelly” of Roman claims. If anyone has been involved in these types of discussions – Catholic/Protestant – you know there is always something that can be brought up to evade or change the topic. (The phrase “oh yeah, but what about this…” comes to mind.)

I’ve outlined in another post what Roman Catholics have traditionally believed about the papacy, things which I believed in my early years (the 60’s and the 70’s) – and it’ll be useful to recap them here:

1. The pope is the chief bishop, primate, and leader of the whole Church of Christ on earth.

2. He has episcopal jurisdiction over all members of the Church.

3. To be a member of the Catholic Church, a man must be in communion with the Pope.

4. The providential guidance of God will see to it that the Pope shall never commit the Church to error in any matter of religion.

(Source, Adrian Fortescue, “The Early Papacy”)

These four items are things that are said always to have been believed – and Vatican 1 etched them into stone, so to speak. But these thing are said to have been believed back into the earliest days of the church. From the beginning, according to some.

Fortescue goes on to state that the underpinning, further, revolves around these three foundational elements:

But all of this depends on something else, he said. "All of this depends further on three more theses, into which we cannot enter here." (Pg 51)

These three theses that he did not touch are:

1. "That our Lord gave these rights to the Apostle St. Peter."

2. "That St. Peter must have a successor in them."

3. "That his successor is the Bishop of Rome."

Ratzinger tried to defend these three theses in his “Called to Communion.” And some time ago, I started to get into this and analyze it – it is a genuinely weak set of arguments, given what we know today.

* * *

Peter Lampe’s work (which we know as “From Paul to Valentinus: Christians in Rome During the First Two Centuries”) was first published in Germany in 1987. This work was not a first-of-a-kind work by any stretch. It was sort of a tying together of a lot of disparate threads of thought, which had started more than half a century prior. Here is a summary of some of the major efforts that I’ve found:

In 1927, James Shotwell and Louise Loomis compiled virtually every document that had been used in support of the papacy from the first five centuries of the church (“The See of Peter,” New York and Oxford: Columbia University Press, ©1927, 1955, 1991). These were grouped roughly into “three distinct sets of texts on the ascendancy of the Papacy within the Roman Catholic Church.”

Without going into detail, the vast majority turned out to be, at best, a “curious and less respectable set of documents, the popular apocryphal literature, which grew up around the figure of Peter almost as soon as reliable records began, literature sprung from misconceptions and confusions or else frankly fictitious.”

In the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s, a Lutheran theologian named Oscar Cullmann wrote a major study, “Peter: Disciple, Apostle, Martyr” (the first English translation Philadelphia: The Westminster Press, 1953). In this work, Cullmann analyzed both the theological claims of the papacy (and provided major exegetical studies of Matthew 16:17-19 and related texts). As well, he analyzed the historical literature in tremendous detail, in order to ascertain Peter’s role in the early church, as well as the concept of “succession.” He concluded among other things:

The original Church was led by [Peter], and he led it only in its earliest period. For as soon as the foundation for this leadership is laid, Peter will give it up. Another, James, will take it over in Jerusalem, while Peter will concentrate entirely on his missionary work and will do so, indeed, in a subordinate role under James.

This later subordination of Peter under James is a fact important in every respect. It confirms first of all that the leadership of the Church by Peter also has its significance for us chiefly as a starting point. [This is a point that Cullman has been making throughout: the fact that Peter is "first" is a unique fact. There is no "successor" to Peter. Any leadership role that was given to Peter, any primacy, was completed by this time. It was non-continuing in any way.].

James is the actual head of the Church from the moment that Peter dedicates himself completely to missionary work. The memory of that fact was steadily retained in the whole of Jewish Christianity, which took an interest in the ancient traditions. According to Hegesippus, “The brother of the Lord, James, takes over the leadership of the Church with the Apostles. (Citing Eusebius E.H. II, 3, 4).

Particularly important is the fact that the Pseudo-Clementina, which are friendly to Peter, clearly subordinate Peter to James. Peter has to “give an accounting” to James, “the bishop of the holy Church.” To him Peter sends his public addresses, and [Pseudo-]Clement calls him [James] “Bishop of Bishops,” “leader of the holy church of the Hebrews and of the churches founded everywhere by God’s providence. [Pseudo-]Clement traces Peter’s commission to him [Clement] back to a commission that James gave to Peter. These late reports thus agree with what we can learn concerning James from the letters of Paul and the book of Acts.

[In other words, any "Petrine succession" to Clement came through a commission to James. This document, by the way, was one of the documents that was widely believed for hundreds of years, known as the "Pseudo-Isidore Decretals."]

It will not do, however, to make some such objection as that Peter went to Rome just at that time in order to “transfer” the primacy from Jerusalem to that place. In reality Peter does not leave Jerusalem in order to transfer the primacy elsewhere; he leaves rather to spread the Gospel. But the significant thing, as said, is that in relation to the new leadership at Jerusalem he does not continue in some superior position, as though James were only his substitute, or were only Bishop of the church at Jerusalem, already sunk to the position of a local church. He rather subordinates himself to the authority of James as the central government. (Cullman, “Peter,” 224-226).

There is more to this, and I’d love to publish it some time.

In 1969, Daniel William O’Connor published “Peter in Rome,” a critical study designed to look at the question of whether Peter actually ever was in Rome. And the answer there was “yes, but likely only at the end of his life. It is probable that he was martyred and buried there. His bones were never recovered.”

In 1973, there was a major work, “Peter in the New Testament,” subtitled “A Collaborative Assessment by Protestant and Roman Catholic Scholars (© 1973 Augsburg Publishing House. I have a Wipf and Stock reprint). This work was edited by Raymond Brown, Karl Donfried and John Reumann, “from discussions by” about nine different Roman Catholic and Lutheran scholars, as part of “the United States Lutheran—Roman Catholic Dialogue” that was going on, and its topic was “the Role of the Papacy in the Universal Church.

The conclusion of this group was really to have raised more questions than they answered, and at the end, the reader was referred to the second phase of this work, a patristic study “co-chaired by the Ref. Dr. A.C. Piepkorn of Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Missouri, and by Professor J. McCue of the School of Religion at the State University of Iowa (Iowa City).

I have not been able to track down this work, but a 2004 survey by a Franciscan priest Rev. Adriano Garuti (“Primacy of the Bishop of Rome and the Ecumenical Dialogue” San Francisco: Ignatius Press) summarizes the Catholic-Lutheran dialogue this way:

In spite of a certain rapprochement (which is unthinkable if it is confronted with the theory of the papacy formulated by the First Vatican Council), it is impossible to overlook the controverted points which still exist, especially concerning the ius divinum and the fullness of the power of the Bishop of Rome (pg 193).

Dr. Peter Lampe is a Lutheran scholar who is one of the signatories of the 1998 document that was presented in advance of the “Joint Declaration on Justification,” which strongly suggested that that “Joint Declaration” was a mistake.

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As I mentioned, Lampe’s study came out in 1987. In 1989, the Vatican began its own historical study. The results of this study have not been published, as far as I know. (If they had found something favorable, don’t you think they would be crowing about it? But instead, what came out of that, was the 1995 encyclical, Ut Unum Sint, in which we see the spectacle of a pope asking for theological input on ways “to find a way of exercising the primacy which, while in no way renouncing what is essential to its mission, is nonetheless open to a new situation.”)

Shortly thereafter, the Vatican held a “theological” symposium on the papacy in 1996, and the strongest reassurances for the papacy that came out of that was, “we are aware of development in the papacy” … “Peter was the leader of the apostles” … “the bishop of Rome is [somehow] the successor of Peter, based on the fact that Peter and Paul died in Rome…”

The symposium is characterized by its properly doctrinal nature, aimed at extracting the essential points of the substance of the doctrine on the Primacy, according to the Catholic Church's conviction of faith...

In addition, there was a document of “reflections” published, just to keep everyone “on the same page,” that is, “These "Reflections" - appended to the symposium - are meant only to recall the essential points of Catholic doctrine on the primacy…” – this is now what it is essential to believe.

THE PRIMACY OF THE SUCCESSOR OF PETER IN THE MYSTERY OF THE CHURCH
Reflections of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, Prefect
Tarcisio Bertone, Archbishop emeritus of Vercelli, Secretary

No longer are the boastful claims made by Fortescue a part of the calculation. As much as possible, historical considerations have been stripped from “what it is now essential to believe”.

Note this paragraph from the conclusion of that theological symposium, written by Ratzinger:

On the basis of the New Testament witness, the Catholic Church teaches, as a doctrine of faith, that the Bishop of Rome is the Successor of Peter in his primatial service in the universal Church;13 this succession explains the preeminence of the Church of Rome,14 enriched also by the preaching and martyrdom of St Paul.

Note the bone given to Paul, although Peter and Paul were “Founders” of the church at Rome. Note also that somehow, in some undefined way, it is “the New Testament witness” where this “succession” “explains” “the preeminence of the Church of Rome”.

This “explanation” may be found in Ratzinger’s “Called to Communion,” and I will say here, that it is such a tremendous stretch, that I find it to be laughable. (You may not, but then again…)

The summary of that document is:

13. … it is essential to state that discerning whether the possible ways of exercising the Petrine ministry correspond to its nature is a discernment to be made in Ecclesia, i.e., with the assistance of the Holy Spirit and in fraternal dialogue between the Roman Pontiff and the other Bishops, according to the Church's concrete needs. But, at the same time, it is clear that only the Pope (or the Pope with an Ecumenical Council) has, as the Successor of Peter, the authority and the competence to say the last word on the ways to exercise his pastoral ministry in the universal Church.

So, in effect, "nanny-nanny-boo-boo on you."

Nevertheless, there is going to be a “last word” on the papacy; it is forthcoming, and it is going to be the result of these historical studies that these Called to Communion folks are mocking and dismissing right now.