Why I Have Not Gone to Rome

The Difficulty of Evaluating Papal Claims

While I retain an interest in ecumenical dialog, and often interact with—and recommend—Roman Catholic theological sources, I have never had that phase that so many students of theology seem to have of seriously considered joining the Roman church. This does not mean that I have not weighed their arguments, or found things to admire within the Roman communion, but I have never found a draw to Rome either with regard to theological conviction or the sense of some kind of pull toward “home,” as if such a thing existed within that particular ecclesiastical body. There are a number of reasons for this, but the one which stands out above them all is the Papacy.

It really is with the doctrine of the Papacy that the Roman Catholic (henceforth referred to as RC) traditions stands or falls. To be RC is to submit to the Pope, not merely as the chief among bishops, or as the head of the whole church by human rite and tradition, but as the divinely appointed sole head of the church who has received a singular and unique charism arising from his partaking of the office of St. Peter. To be RC is to confess that the Pope is the vicar of Christ, the chief protector of pure doctrine, the pontifex maximus, and the only individual alive who is able to speak infallibly when he proclaims doctrine on behalf of the whole church (ex cathedra).

Within these papal claims exist a variety of historical, theological, exegetical, and epistemological propositions. If any of those is mistaken, the edifice upon which the office stands collapses. For example, if the historical claim that Linus succeeded Peter as the bishop of Rome is a historical falsehood (or even that Peter himself actually was head of the church in Rome), then there is no succession, and there is no Papacy. Or, if any papal statement that meets the criteria of infallibility (and these criteria are nearly impossible to pin-down) is doctrinally false, the claims of papal supremacy similarly collapse. In other words, there are numerous propositions on a variety of subjects that one has to affirm in order to affirm the Papacy. If any is false, the RC system is false. Despite the fact that the papal office rests upon the veracity of so many claims, however, the Roman system does not actually have any clear and straightforward way to examine those claims and to challenge or defend their veracity.

The issue here is the primary reason why I have never been taken by Roman arguments: their unfalsifiability.

The Papal Office Cannot Be Proven Wrong

Most theological claims—whether dogmatic, historical, or philosophical—can be exposited with clear statements and specific points of defense that can be evaluated, defended, or countered. In other words, they are falsifiable. I’ll give a few examples.

Justification through faith alone. The doctrine that drove Luther’s thought is dependent upon a particular interpretation of St. Paul’s letters to the Romans and Galatians (though not exclusively). This interpretation contends that when St. Paul contrasts justification with “works of the law” he intends not only to remove ceremonial works from one’s justification, but also those things which are generally categorized as the moral law. Luther’s interpretation also depends upon a particular understanding of the term “justification” in the context of these epistles, and on the definition of “faith” that Paul relies on. In other words, the doctrine is falsifiable in quite a straightforward fashion. The question is, Does Paul mean “X” or does he mean “Y” when he writes? And the arguments go from there.

Proposition: St. Paul precludes good works from justification when he speaks of justification apart from “works of the law.”

What would disprove the proposition: That it could be demonstrated that “works of the law” refers exclusively to ceremonial elements of the Mosaic administration in Paul’s usage.

The resurrection of Jesus. At the center of Christianity is a historical claim. Jesus of Nazareth died on a Roman cross under the reign of Pontius Pilate, and he rose on the third day. The tomb in which he was buried was empty by Easter Sunday, because his body was now living again. This, again, is quite a specific historical claim which is subject to some investigation.

Proposition: Jesus’s body was raised, and was no longer in the tomb.

What would disprove the proposition: That historical evidence could demonstrate with significant probability that Jesus’s body remained in the tomb or was stolen.

The existence of universals. The classical Platonic contention that immaterial universals exist outside of the world of physical particular objects has been subject to debate since Plato’s own day, with arguments and counter-arguments proposed by a variety of philosophers. This discussion reached its height in the realism-nominalism debates in the late medieval period, though such divergences remain today. In such debates, there are clear philosophical propositions set forth which are subject to syllogistic argumentation, with defenses and critiques that can be clearly articulated and responded to.

Proposition: There are universal ideas or forms that are not merely linguistic or conceptual.

What would disprove the proposition: That there are other and more sufficient explanations for the seeming commonality of thoughts and ideas that connect particulars to one another and to human cognition than that of the forms.

The office of the Papacy, however, cannot be disproven in the same way that these other doctrinal claims can be due to the Roman Catholic definition of authority. There are, of course, a significant number of claims which are theoretically falsifiable that are necessary for the doctrine of papal supremacy, such as:

• That Matthew 16 includes the giving of a singular and unique position of authority to Peter which is then transmitted to his successors.

• That there was a Petrine bishopric in Rome by the end of the first century.

• That Peter appointed a direct successor.

• That the Pope has been doctrinally correct every time he has made doctrinal proclamations that meet the criteria for an ex cathedra statement.

• That the Pope has never contradicted a prior ex cathedra statement through his own authoritative declarations.

While these types of claims could be theoretically proven false, Rome provides no clear means by which such a thing could be the case. Contrast this with the three examples above. The first example was an exegetical claim, the second a historical one, and the third a philosophical one. Each of these claims can be proven and/or disproven within its own field of inquiry. An exegetical argument could prove/disprove the first, a historical argument could prove/disprove the second, and a philosophical argument could prove/disprove the third. I contend, however, that claims for the Papal office, though theoretically tied to all three of these fields of inquiry could never actually be disproven based upon any of them.

Let’s start with the exegetical case. A Protestant could offer any number of thorough exegetical critiques of the traditional Roman interpretation of Matthew 16. The problem is that even if a Protestant were to prove with near certainty that the textual evidence demonstrates that it is Peter’s confession that is the “rock” to which Jesus points, rather than Peter and his successors, this would not disprove Papal supremacy, because exegetical argument is not determinative for the veracity of any given dogma. No matter what argument is given by a Biblical scholar, that individual remains a private interpreter, and will thus always be subject to the proper interpretation as is determined by the RCC. Further, even if the interpretation of such a scholar was acknowledged as credible, there remains the reality that when Rome declares a teaching dogma, it does not thereby necessarily dogmatize the argumentation used to defend that dogma. Therefore, any given argument or text is theoretically disposable, while the dogma remains intact.

A further problem regarding falsifiability through exegetical argumentation is that Rome uses texts—like Matthew 16—to argue for dogmas that clearly go beyond the content of the texts themselves. Regarding the Matthean text, there is nothing in Matthew’s Gospel (or any of the Gospels) about apostolic successors of any sort at all. The most that could be proven by means of Roman argumentation (from the text itself) is that keys were granted to Peter, with nothing being said of anyone connected to Peter. This broadening of textual arguments to defend ideas that are beyond the text is perfectly understandable within the context of a Roman Catholic conception of authority, wherein dogmatic authority lies both the text and in sacred tradition.

What this commitment to extra-textual authority means, in terms of exegetical falsifiability, is that if the Protestant critic is to prove the Roman interpretation false through a textual argument, he would have to prove that the text not only does not positively teach the Roman dogma, but positively precludes the RC teaching. Such a thing is basically impossible to do. Even if, for example, a RC theologian were to acknowledge that Matthew 16:18 is actually an identification of Peter’s confession as the rock upon which the church is built, this could quite easily be incorporated into Papal dogma anyway. The claim that Peter’s confession is “the rock” does not also preclude the idea that Peter himself is also the rock. These types of moves could be made with nearly any Protestant interpretation of common verses used to defend RC dogmas.

Historical arguments work much in the same way. Older approaches to dogma in the immediate post-Reformation era (such as in the writings of Robert Bellarmine) tended to make broad claims about universality and dogmatic consensus in the fathers. These claims were subject to falsification at this time, as is evident in the thousands of pages written by RC and Lutheran scholastics in the seventeenth-century debating the nature of the historical record regarding various doctrines. Eventually, however, many of the most strict Papalists—Henry Edward Manning chief among them—began to argue that neither history nor Scripture could be properly understood on their own, as private interpretation is just as problematic in a historical context as in a Biblical one. Therefore, for Manning, it is only by means of the Papal office that either Scripture or history can be understood. This is a classic case of a circular argument. For him, the Pope is infallible as is evidenced by the vast Scriptural and historical testimony to this fact. And yet, the Scriptural and historical testimony can only be understood through the infallible Papal office. The veracity of the authority of the Pope is found within the authority of the Pope.

Though a small number of traditionalists follow Manning’s arguments today, most modern RCs adopt John Henry Newman’s conception of dogmatic development. Newman’s development hypothesis contends that though later dogma does not contradict earlier dogma, the teachings of the church have gradually developed over time. This means that the teachings of the church in the nineteenth century are not directly identical with the teachings of the church in the second or third centuries. The popularization of this approach to history has negated any real necessity in the making of historical arguments from earlier Christian history in defense of later Roman dogma.

The arguments made by early protestant thinkers against the claims of Rome—such as Martin Chemnitz in his four-volume Examination of the Council of Trent—only make sense within a context where Rome’s claims depend upon clear doctrinal unity with earlier church tradition. All of this is negated by Newman’s conception of history, wherein basically any demonstration of discontinuity between Patristic theology or practice and modern Rome can be easily dismissed with the claim of “development.” Just about the only historical evidence that could even be theoretically detrimental to RC views on Papal authority (or any of its dogmas, really) is if it was demonstrated that there was no immediate successor to Peter in Rome. Thus, with the near-impossible exception of the discovery of some early second century undisputed historical text which boldly states “by the way, there has never been a bishop in Rome,” there is no historical argument which would disprove the papal office.

One might contend that even if papal claims could not be disproven through the demonstration of general theological discontinuity, they could be disproven if one were to demonstrate a contradiction between ex cathedra statements. This would only be possible if there was actually any agreement regarding what constitutes an ex cathedra statement. Other than in two specific instances (the dogmas of the immaculate conception and the bodily assumption), there isn’t. Further, even if such a contradiction was found, some theologians like Avery Dulles have contended that older dogmas can remain infallible while also being completely reinterpreted in modern contexts—even to the point where these dogmas are totally disconnected from their original intended meaning. This means that even if an obvious contradiction could be pointed out, the theoretical groundwork is in place for some kind of complete reinterpretation an older dogma that would smooth over any such difficulties.

Thus, the doctrinal conception of the papacy as it exists in the RCC cannot be disproven through exegetical or historical methodology. If those methods of evaluation cannot be used, what should be used?

One could argue for a philosophical necessity in the papal office as is sometimes done. Such arguments are usually made by pointing to the fallibility of human readings, and the various epistemic problems of so-called “private interpretation.” Such arguments, however, are not really positive arguments for the papacy, but work more as critiques of Protestant conceptions of authority. Even if these arguments were a compelling critique of Protestantism, however, they are not really a positive argument for any specific alternative—in this case, the papacy. Thus, as philosophical argumentation in general is used here more as a tool of critique than of positive construction (the Papacy is not conceived of as an element of natural revelation), such arguments do not meet the criteria of falsifiability either.

As a bit of an aside, the epistemological issues which stand behind apologetic arguments in favor of the need for the Papacy and the problem of “private interpretation” have never posed that significant of an issue for me. As has often been pointed out, RC arguments do not actually resolve the issue of private interpretation, but merely push it back a step, so that one must interpret tradition rather than Scripture alone. While I grant to the RC apologist that the broad divergence of views regarding Biblical interpretation poses an issue for Biblical perspicuity, familiarity with RC theology (especially in the twentieth century) reveals a similar broad range of interpretations of RC tradition on a whole host of issues (including the nature of Papal authority itself). There are epistemic difficulties we all have to sit with here, and I find it less than helpful to pretend that the problem only exists within this or that group.

Summarizing the Issue

The major issue for me with RC claims is not only that I do not find arguments in favor of the RCC compelling. It is more foundational than that. The problem is that I don’t even know how to evaluate its claims such that I could even begin to weigh their veracity. I do not even know what field of inquiry or standard of judgment I am to use in order to determine whether Papal supremacy is or is not a doctrine that is to be assented to. Authority, for Rome, is supposedly tied to Scripture, the tradition of the church, and the living magisterium. When the first of these (Scripture) is challenged, RCs often point to the second (tradition), and when those claims are challenged, they ultimately point to the third (the magisterium). As such, the magisterium becomes its own validation.

If the RCC had clear and straightforward claims about its authority and precisely how it is to be proven, I would take claims of its infallibility more seriously. As it stands, no matter which approach to the relationship between Scripture, tradition, and the magisterium the RC defender takes, it appears to me that arguments in Rome’s favor are ultimately circular, leaving no clear and objective criteria by which to judge its claims. And thus, the magisterium becomes its own defense. And that is simply not compelling.