How Useful Is This Argument Against Sedevacantism?

Family2Last time we dealt with the first part of a two-part query from a reader. Now for part two.

The question is: How useful can a particular quotation from Vatican I be in dealing with sedevacantists (i.e., those who say there is no valid pope at present)—particularly those who say that Pius XII was the last valid pope.

The quotation from Vatican I is:

[I]f anyone says that it is not by the institution of Christ the Lord himself (that is to say, by divine law) that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole Church; or that the Roman pontiff is not the successor of blessed Peter in this primacy: let him be anathema.

Since the time of Vatican I the canonical penalty of anathema—which was a special kind of excommunication done with a particular ceremony—has been abolished, so nobody today is under the penalty of anathema even if they do violate this canon.

However, this canon defines a point that appears to be divinely revealed. The obstinate doubt or denial of a doctrine that is both divinely revealed and infallibly defined by the Church as such is a heresy, and thus under certain conditions a Catholic who falls afoul of this canon can indeed excommunicate himself (and automatically so). This just isn’t the kind of excommunication formerly known as anathema.

So much for the canonical aspects. What about its utility as an argument when dealing with sedevacantists?

To assess that, we first need to understand what is being defined in this text. And we have to do that rather carefully, because infallible definitions must be construed narrowly. Thus the Code of Canon Law provides:

Canon 749 §3. No doctrine is understood as defined infallibly unless this is manifestly evident.

One results of this is that we must ask what the council was trying to define. If it is manifestly evident that a particular proposition was intended then that proposition is defined infallibly. If it is not manifestly evident then it is not to be regarded as infallibly defined.

In the case of the Vatican I statement quoted above, the purpose of the council was to define that it was “by the institution of Christ the Lord himself (that is to say, by divine law) that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole church.” In other words, the papacy is not a man-made thing. It is not by human or merely ecclesiastical law that there be an ongoing line of successors to St. Peter with jurisdiction over the whole church. (The council also identified the bishop of Rome as that successor, but this isn’t the point that concerns us here.)

It is manifestly evident that the council wished to say that Christ’s intention that St. Peter would have an ongoing line of successors with primacy over the whole Church, but this does not mean that there would be a successor at any particular moment.

There obviously isn’t a successor during the “interregnum” (between the reigns) period between the death of one pope and the election of another.  Sometimes these interregna have even lasted years, when the college of cardinals had trouble making up its mind (though that hasn’t happened in a very long time; that’s why the conclave was invented, so that the cardinals would be effectively locked up together until they came up with a successor).

So if the passage from Vatican I does not ensure that there will be a successor at any particular moment then a sedevacantist could simply argue that now is one of those moments. Something either went wrong with a recent papal election, in such a way that invalidated it, or—according to one theory that at least some thinkers in Catholic history have advocated—a pope could forfeit his office through heresy.

One of these two things is, in fact, what sedevacantists claim. So I don’t see the text from Vatican I as being a useful argument against sedevacantism in general, but there is another possibility. Might it work against a specific form of sedevacantism?

According to many current sedevacantists, Pius XII was the last valid pope. He died in 1958, which was 53 years ago.

Here is where the argument gets interesting: In order to be pope, under current canon law, one must be elected by the college of cardinals. In order to be a member of the college of cardinals, one must be appointed by the pope. In order for the pope to appoint you, he must be alive.

If the last valid pope died in 1958, that would seem to mean that no cardinals have been validly appointed since then.  How many cardinals are alive today who were appointed before 1958?

None.

The longest-serving cardinal at present is Eugenio Sales, who wasn’t appointed until 1969. If his elevation to the cardinalate was invalid, and so were all subsequent elevations due to a lack of valid popes, then it would appear that the college of cardinals now has no members. With no valid members, it would seem impossible for there to be another validly elected pope.

Ever.

That would be odd.

It would certainly seem to be contrary to the will of Christ who, in the words of Vatican I, willed “that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole Church.” If Christ really wills that there be an ongoing series of successors then one would think he would keep the Church from getting into a position where it is impossible to elect any more successors.

So do we have a good argument here, from Vatican I, after all? An argument that deals a death-blow to a major current form of sedevacantism?

Let’s think about what responses a sedevacantist (of the requisite type) might make. What avenues of counter-argument might he have?

For a start, he would be able to say, “Hey, I agree with that Vatican I said. I think Christ did will that St. Peter have ongoing successors to the end of time (with gaps here and there). It’s not Christ’s will that we currently be without a pope. It’s a tragedy that we are!”

Responding to this, one might say, “Okay, but then how are we supposed to get a new pope?”

Here the sedevacantist would seem to have two options: (1) He could bite the bullet and say that there just is no way to get a new pope; we’re just stuck. Or (2) he could say that there is, in fact, a way to get a new pope, despite what you might otherwise thing.

If he picks option (1), do we have him?

I don’t think so. At least not based on what Vatican I says. The reason is this: God can will things in different senses.

He can, on the one hand, will that certain things happen or not happen in what’s sometimes called a “preceptive” way. That is, he establishes a precept that things happen (Honor thy father and mother) or that they not happen (Thou shalt not bear false witness). But it’s clear that when God wills something preceptively, that doesn’t mean it’s going to come to pass. People dishonor their fathers and mothers all the time. They bear false witness all the time.

On the other hand, God can will that certain things happen or not happen in what’s sometimes called an “efficacious” way. That is, he not only wills that they happen but he arranges circumstances so that they do in fact happen. This is the case, for example, when a pope or a council speaks infallibly. God wills that when certain conditions are fulfilled, the resulting teaching will be infallible, and he brings it about that the teaching is infallible. If a pope or council were to try to define something that is false, something (pleasant or unpleasant) would happen to stop this from happening.

So one question we have to face is: What kind of willing is being talked about in the text from Vatican I?

For a variety of reasons, a very strong case can be made that it’s the first. Let me give you just one reason: In its historical context, Vatican I was dealing with people who had argued that the papacy is a man-made institution, not one that exists by the will of Christ or by divine law. That was the point this particular text was dealing with.

It was not responding to people who claimed that the papacy is a divine institution but it might not endure to the end of the world—with gaps here and there (due, at least, to interregna), but with a guaranteed new successor before the end of the world and alive at the time Christ comes back.

The latter claim does not appear to be what the council was attempting to define. As a result, it is not manifestly evident that the council defined this teaching, and so—according to the 1983 Code of Canon Law—we should not regard this teaching as having been infallibly defined.

The sedevacantist thus can say, “You’re overreaching with the text from Vatican I. It’s just an affirmation that it’s the preceptive will of Christ that there be ongoing successors to Peter—not a guarantee that there will be one alive at the time of the Second Coming.”

I think this is a valid response. I don’t think we can get from the text of Vatican I an infallible definition of the proposition that there will be a living success of Peter at the very end. We might believe this on other grounds, but it’s not what Vatican I was attempting to define, and thus it’s not something Vatican I defined.

If one can produce other grounds that guarantee a living successor of Peter at the Second Coming then it is those grounds—not Vatican I—that one should point to.

The idea that there would not be a living successor of Peter at the end of time is a very uncomfortable thought—so uncomfortable, in fact, that many sedevacantists would not want to go in this direction and would instead pick option (2) and claim that there is a way to get a new pope, despite what one might think.

What might a sedevacantist of this sort claim?

I can think of several possibilities off the top of my head:

a) There was a secret conclave before the last valid cardinals died, and there is a continuing papacy that is little known or in secret.

b) God could make a new pope known by divine (and presumably private) revelation.

c) In the absence of a valid set of cardinals, and the impossibility of generating new ones, the ecclesiastical law providing for the election of a pontiff by the college of cardinals has lapsed, making it possible to elect a new pope through some other means (such as by a tiny remnant of the “true faithful,” whether they be conceived of as bishops, priests, laypeople, or some mix of those).

In fact, variations on these the proposals are what some sedevacantists claim. In fact, some have already proposed new anti-popes citing one or another of these as the basis. (In fact, I’ve had more than one current anti-pope ask to friend me on Facebook, though I have declined these invitations since I strongly suspected it was just a ploy to get in front of my FB friends to promote their anti-papacies.) This means that they and their followers aren’t technically sedevacantists but schismatics following a false pope.

A sedevacantist could even say, “I don’t know what the method is for getting a new pope, but there must be one.”

In fact, a sedevacantist could even site the very same text from Vatican I and—again taking it beyond what the council was attempting to define—argue that this text shows that there must be a way of getting a new pope, even though it isn’t presently clear what that is.

So I don’t think that the Vatican I text is a knock-down argument against sedevacantism, even of the sort that sees Pius XII as the last valid pope.

That’s not to say it’s useless. It does, after all, show that it’s at least the preceptive will of Christ that Peter have ongoing successors, and if that’s the case then it’s reasonable to suppose, hope, and think that in a matter this important he would guide the Church in such a way that we don’t get into a no-pope-ever-again situation. But this is only one datapoint in a larger argument that must be mounted.

I think there is quite a bit of fruitful material to be mined in the area we are exploring—the implications of the will of Christ for the ongoing nature of the papacy—and how this ill-fits with the claim that the papacy has been vacant for more than half a century. The cognitive dissonance created by that idea, plus the lameness of the alternative ways of getting a pope mentioned above (each of which is fraught with problems) makes a powerful case that the sedevacantists are simply wrong, and profoundly so.

But I think in order to make that case we need to appeal to a broader array of evidence and that the text from Vatican I doesn’t settle the matter for us, as great as that would be.

What do you think?

John Paul II: The Insta-Saint?

John_paul_II

My blogging confrere Pat Archbold currently has a post in which he looks at the question of how quickly saints get minted and, though he doesn’t name him, whether John Paul II’s cause for sainthood should proceed quite so fast a clip.

The question of how saints are canonized, how the process should work, and how long it should take is something that has long interested me, so I thought I’d chime in and offer a few thoughts as well.

First, I appreciate Pat’s desire to see canonization processes be slow, leisurely things in which there is lots of time for reflection.

On the other hand, I also appreciate the desire on the part of people in general, when we’ve clearly witnessed the life of an extraordinary figure like John Paul II or Mother Teresa, to have them declared a saint immediately.

I understand the cries, “Santo! Subito!” from St. Peter’s Square. (By the way, what is it with commentators translating this chant with more than two words? At the time I saw one commentator — who seemed positively enchanted with his translation the way he kept repeating it — render this “Make him a saint, and do it now.” Dude, points for elegance, but that sucks all the energy out of it. Chanted slogans need to be short and pithy. Just translate it directly: “Saint! Now!” See how much more powerful that is?)

Originally saints got on the calendar because of popular acclaim. The popes didn’t take over the process until a thousand years into Christian history, so there’s certainly some room for flexibility here.

Yet there is also wisdom in waiting and doing a thorough investigation. There have been any number of people dressed in sheep’s clothing right up to the end of their lives — even very publicly known people — who were later revealed to have been ravening wolves inwardly. Imagine the damage that would be done if, upon the death of the person, the wave of public sentiment for this apparently sheep-like individual resulted in an instant canonization, only to have his wolf nature revealed later.

One might say argue that papal saint canonizations are infallible and so it would still be guaranteed that the individual is in heaven. True, it is commonly thought that saint canonizations are infallible (though there is some question on this matter; the late Cardinal Dulles, for example, expressed doubts about this point). But if saint canonizations are infallible and the person got canonized then this would mean that the person finished their life in a state of grace — perhaps due to a deathbed repentance — but it would do nothing to fix the massive damage done by the Church just having declared a proven wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing to be a saint.

“St. Child-Molester!” the headlines would blare.

Can you even imagine the world of hurt this would bring?

And even if the prospective saint is innocent, the mere fact that charges exist against the person signals the need to deal with them in some way. This applies to Blessed Pius XII, whose memory has been grossly tarnished by unjust slanders regarding his actions during World War II: Was he “indifferent” to the plight of Jewish people? Why didn’t he do more? Was he even approving of Hitler’s plans?

Personally, I look forward with great anticipation to the day Pius XII is canonized, but the charges against him in the public mind need to be dealt with prior to canonization so that people can understand the heroic example he actually did provide.

And there’s part of the key: Canonizations aren’t meant just to settle the question of whether someone is in heaven. They are also meant to hold up to us an example to follow. If a person did not set a good example then they should not become a canonized saint, even if they are in heaven. Or, if their example has been widely misunderstood, then the Holy See needs to set the record straight prior to canonization so that the act of canonization will not cause avoidable scandal.

In the case of a pope being canonized, we face something of a dilemma. Because popes are such high profile figures, they are precisely the kind of people who are likely to generate a strong desire for immediate canonization. They are among the folks most likely to have people chanting, “Santo! Subito!” in St. Peter’s Square.

On the other hand, precisely because they are such high-profile figures, to canonize them prematurely entails the greatest risks. It’s not like scandalizing a local area by promoting to the altars a local person who set a bad example. It would scandalize the entire world for a pope to be canonized and then have problems emerge. If there are charges that need to be dealt with, either well-founded ones or entirely bogus ones, they need to be dealt with up front.

It thus seems to me that the middle path chosen by Pope Benedict regarding John Paul II’s cause — to waive the five-year waiting period in difference to popular acclaim but to otherwise allow the process to proceed methodically — was a reasonable way of handling the situation.

Ultimately, the matter is in God’s hands, of course. This is particularly true with regard to how quickly God wants to grant verifiable miracles in conjunction with John Paul II’s intercession.

However, those on earth need to do their part in working through the process methodically.

It’s that whole God-and-man-cooperating theme.

So those are my thoughts.

What are yours?

The Petrine Fact, Part 8: Peter and the Keys

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8


Christ Giving the Keys to St. Peter (Sistine Chapel – Pietro Perugino, 1480-81)

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” (Matt 16:19)

If verse 18 (“You are Petros, and on this rock I will build my Church”) is the central saying of Jesus’ extraordinary threefold logion to Peter in Matthew 16, verse 19 is its climax. Verse 18 is the fulcrum of the passage, but verse 19 provides the leverage. Verse 19 is the key to the Petrine fact; it puts the primacy of Peter in all the other passages we have considered into sharpest relief, giving us a definite context for understanding the nature of Peter’s relationship to Jesus, to the Twelve and to the Church.

Like the previous two verses (as we saw in Part 6), verse 19 consists of a major pronouncement addressed to Peter and about Peter, followed by a supporting couplet expounding upon or unpacking the major pronouncement:

I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,

and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

If verse 18 invited comparison to the renaming passages in Genesis involving Abraham, Sarah and Jacob, verse 19 even more strikingly recalls an Old Testament text with the same three-part structure, as well as other clear points of contact:

And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David;

he shall open, and none shall shut;

and he shall shut, and none shall open. (Isa 22:22)

In addition to this passage, there are also four New Testament passages warranting mention. One is Matthean, the other three Johannine:

Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. (Matt 18:18)

Receive the Holy Spirit.

If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven;

if you retain the sins of any, they are retained. (John 20:22b-23)

Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one; I died, and behold I am alive for evermore, and I have the keys of death and hades. (Rev 1:17b-18)

The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David,

who opens and no one shall shut,

who shuts and no one opens. (Rev 3:7)

A number of images and themes crop up throughout these passages: keys, the Church, heaven and earth, hades, binding and loosing, opening and closing, forgiving and retaining.

Let’s begin with the idea of binding and loosing, found in the two Matthean passages, Matthew 16:19 and 18:18 (which are also the only two texts here or anywhere in the Gospels in which the word “church” appears).

As we saw with receiving and delivering (Part 2), the language of binding and loosing is borrowed from rabbinic vocabulary, where refers first of all to regulatory or disciplinary authority: authority to forbid or permit, to declare licit or illicit — to define and clarify Halakhah, the living legal tradition regulating all aspects of Jewish life. Binding and loosing can also refer to executive or juridical authority to exclude from the community or to acquit of wrongdoing.

An example of the first, halakhic sense of binding as regulatory or disciplinary authority can be seen another Matthean saying of Jesus that mentions “binding”:

The scribes and the Pharisees sit on Moses’ seat; so practice and observe whatever they tell you, but not what they do; for they preach, but do not practice. They bind heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men’s shoulders; but they themselves will not move them with their finger. (Matthew 23:2-4)

The saying clearly refers to halakhic authority misused, i.e., used in an abusive and hypocritical way — though Jesus gives no indication that the misuse of regulatory authority disqualifies its use or warrants its disregard. On the contrary, he affirms the authority of the scribes and the Pharisees, urging his hearers to “practice and observe whatever they tell you,” even when this power of binding is hypocritically wielded by those who “sit in Moses’ seat.”

A related expression can be found in a passage previously considered, Acts 15, in which, deferring to James’ pastoral concern for Jewish brethren, the council issues a halakhic pronouncement for the Syrian Gentile Christians, stating that “it has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us to lay upon you no greater burden than these necessary things: that you abstain from what has been sacrificed to idols and from blood and from what is strangled and from unchastity” (Acts 15:28-29). While the word “binding” is not present here (it is another Semitism particular to Matthew), Luke’s language of laying “burdens” on men (i.e., obliging certain Gentile brethren to observe certain conspicuous precepts of the Law of Moses above and beyond the requirements of the moral law) resonates with Jesus’ language about “binding heavy burdens,” and reinforces that Jesus is speaking of regulatory or disciplinary authority.

The second sense of binding and loosing, authority to exclude from the community or to acquit of wrongdoing, is directly in view in Matthew 18, where verse 18 immediately follows Jesus’ teaching that the obstinate wrongdoer who “refuses to listen even to the church” should be ostracized from the community (“let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector”). It’s not hard to see that these two senses are interrelated (e.g., authority to establish the rules of a community more or less entails authority to distinguish members in good standing from those who are not).

It is one thing to have authority, and another to use it rightly. We have seen that Jesus excoriated the scribes and Pharisees for misusing their own authority to bind (while still exhorting his hearers to submit to that misused authority); and to the Twelve, as we saw in Part 3, Jesus sought to impart the idea of a radically different model of authority based on service rather than privilege. Clearly the Twelve were slow to absorb this concept prior to Pentecost, and even after Pentecost it is not necessary to assume that every apostle was always a perfect model of servant leadership. Certainly Christian history is replete with examples of leadership abused in just the ways that Jesus condemns.

Nevertheless, both in Matthew 16:19 and 18:18 we find astonishing ratification of the exercise of the binding and loosing authority conferred by Jesus: “whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” Insofar as binding and loosing entails halakhic authority, this “heaven and earth” language indicates that the Christian Halakhah has divine force. (“Heaven” in Matthew is a circumlocution for “God”; e.g., where Mark and Luke use “kingdom of God,” Matthew uses “kingdom of heaven.” Thus, “bound in heaven” means “bound by or before God.”) Insofar as it entails authority to exclude or to acquit, Jesus’ language comes very close to the parallel Johannine pronouncement “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”

In both Matthew 16 and 18, the future perfect tense could also be translated “shall have been bound/loosed” (a construction that R. T. France suggests is as awkward in Greek as it is in English), or even “shall having been bound” (thus A. T. Robertson). This suggests divine guidance for those exercising this authority — an implication that particularly resonates with Jesus’ guarantee in Matthew 16:18 that “the gates of hell shall not prevail” against the Church he builds upon this rock.

While this may entail infallibility in unchanging matters (a point I may return to in a future post), it should not be taken to indicate that Peter and the apostles are authorized only to declare what is or is not lawful according to the eternal moral law. Acts 15 provides a good counter-example: “It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to us,” the council wrote, though such matters as eating meat offered to idols and blood were not matters of the eternal moral law, but of the Law of Moses.

The implication is not that the council’s decision to require more than the moral law was merely ratified or seconded by the Holy Spirit, but that it was in accordance with the will of the Holy Spirit. Thus, what is “having been bound in heaven” need not be only what is eternally bound by the moral law; it can also be what is in keeping with prudential moral judgment for a particular cultural situation. In other words, “shall have been bound in heaven” need not mean “bound always, everywhere and for everyone”; binding and loosing can have a more limited scope, even in heaven.

So far we have been considering Jesus’ language about binding and loosing in Matthew 16 and Matthew 18 in an undifferentiated way. Now we must take stock of crucial differences between the two passages. Three in particular stand out.

First, though identically translated in contemporary English (which lacks inflection for number of the second-personal pronoun and second-person verbs), in the Greek text (and in any Aramaic original, and in most other languages), the second-personal pronoun “you” and the verbs “bind” and “loose” are singular in 16:19, addressed to Peter alone, and plural in 18:18, addressed to the company of the Twelve.

On the one hand, then, Jesus says to Peter, “whatever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.” On the other hand, he says to the Twelve, “whatever you (all) bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you (all) loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.”

Once again, as in declaring Peter the rock and in various other ways, Jesus singles Peter out. He doesn’t tell, e.g., John that what he binds or looses on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven — or James, or Andrew, etc. He doesn’t even say “Whatever any of you bind or loose on earth shall be bound or loosed in heaven.” The plural verbs in chapter 18 are enacted by a plural subject. Taken at face value, Matthew 18 speaks of a corporate power of binding or loosing, exercised by a body — the body of the Twelve, of the “church” (as per the previous verse) — while Matthew 16 speaks of an individual power of binding or loosing, exercised by Peter.

This is an observation about the Greek grammar and what Jesus says in Matthew. I do not leap directly to any specific theological conclusion about differences in the authority given to Peter versus the Twelve. I am not necessarily saying that John or James or Andrew had not in any sense power to bind or loose individually. My only immediate conclusion is that Jesus once again singles Peter out and ascribes to him individually what is ascribed to the Twelve only corporately, as he does in calling Peter the rock on which the Church is built while the apostles collectively are elsewhere called the Church’s foundation.

A second difference: While in both passages binding and loosing is directly associated with the Church — the only places the word ever appears in the Gospels — the word church seems to be used differently in Matthew 16 and Matthew 18. In the former passage it clearly refers to the Church Universal: “Upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it” (16:18). It the latter it seems to refer to the local church community: “If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector” (18:17). (Certainly Matthew’s readers would not have understood from this that Christians were to go up to Jerusalem to take their grievances with one another before the leading apostles; they would have understood this to refer to local church leadership.)

Once again, I do not leap directly to any specific theological conclusion. I do not claim, for instance, that the authority of individual apostles other than Peter was geographically limited or confined to particular communities. It is theologically true that the apostolic mission of every apostle was to the whole Church. Nevertheless, Jesus speaks of Peter’s individual authority to bind and loose in the context of the Church Universal, and of the apostles’ collegiate authority to bind and loose in the context of local churches. The latter authority is given a relative context; the former an absolute context.

Third, and perhaps most importantly, while 18:18 mentions only the power of binding and loosing, 16:19 mentions something else: the keys of the kingdom. In fact, the keys of the kingdom are the major clause; binding and loosing is only the supporting couplet.

In the last couple of posts I argued that the supporting couplets in Matthew 16:17-19 illuminate and expound upon the major clauses. As we saw, some resist this in 16:18, arguing that “You are Petros” has nothing to do with “upon this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it.” Now, in verse 19, many of the same readers go to the opposite extreme, arguing that the keys of the kingdom and the power of binding and loosing are not only related, but simply and sheerly synonymous. “The keys of the kingdom,” they say, means nothing that is not wholly contained in the power of binding and loosing that is shared by all. The major clause is thus collapsed into the supporting couplet.

We have already seen that even with regard to binding and loosing Peter is uniquely privileged among the Twelve. Beyond that, though, the effort to collapse the keys of the kingdom into the power of binding and loosing must be rejected.

To begin with, one could not similarly collapse the meaning of the major clauses from the preceding verses into the supporting couplets. “Upon this rock I will build my Church” is obviously related to “I say to you, you are Petros,” but they are not two ways of saying the same thing, nor does “upon this rock I will build my Church” contain the whole meaning of “I say to you, you are Petros.” Likewise, Peter’s blessedness and the Father’s revelation to him of Jesus’ identity are related but not identical realities, and the latter is not the sole basis for the former (in fact, Jesus is about to bless Peter further). The reductionist effort to read the keys of the kingdom out of the passage is not supported by the context.

The key, though, is the Old Testament background in Isaiah 22: “And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open” (Isa 22:22). This passage, recognized by most commentators and commentaries today, Catholic and non-Catholic, as the precedent for Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:19, indicates that what is given to Peter is a privilege that is unique among the Twelve.

The verse is part of an oracle that concerns the office of chief steward or master of the household of David. The current office holder, Shebna, has incurred God’s displeasure, and is to be cast down from his station, and his authority given to a successor, Eliakim son of Hilkiah. Here is the oracle in full:

Thus says the Lord GOD of hosts, “Come, go to this steward, to Shebna, who is over the household, and say to him: What have you to do here and whom have you here, that you have hewn here a tomb for yourself, you who hew a tomb on the height, and carve a habitation for yourself in the rock? Behold, the LORD will hurl you away violently, O you strong man. He will seize firm hold on you, and whirl you round and round, and throw you like a ball into a wide land; there you shall die, and there shall be your splendid chariots, you shame of your master’s house. I will thrust you from your office, and you will be cast down from your station. In that day I will call my servant Eliakim the son of Hilkiah, and I will clothe him with your robe, and will bind your girdle on him, and will commit your authority to his hand; and he shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem and to the house of Judah. And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open. And I will fasten him like a peg in a sure place, and he will become a throne of honor to his father’s house. And they will hang on him the whole weight of his father’s house, the offspring and issue, every small vessel, from the cups to all the flagons. In that day, says the LORD of hosts, the peg that was fastened in a sure place will give way; and it will be cut down and fall, and the burden that was upon it will be cut off, for the LORD has spoken.” (Isa 22:15-25)

The “key of the house of David” in this passage represents the office of chief steward or master of the royal household. Like other kings in ancient and modern times, the Davidic monarchs were served by various stewards or ministers empowered to exercise authority in the king’s name. Among these was the one “over the household,” as Shebna is called in 22:15, and as Eliakim is called in Isaiah 36:3.

The same language for the same office is found in 1 Kings 4:6 as well as in (for the northern kingdom) 1 Kings 16:9 and 18:3; parallels are also found in Egyptian, Assyrian and Babylonian contexts. A pre-Davidic parallel is found in Genesis, where Joseph is put “over the household” of Pharaoh (Gen 41:40, 45:8), an office entailing supreme authority over the whole kingdom second only to Pharaoh. This is the authority of the Egyptian vizier — the model for the Hebrew office of chief steward according to some scholars. (Originally, apparently, the authority of the master of the house was just that — he was a palace administrator, concerned with the doings of the king’s household rather than the kingdom. Over time, however, the office acquired more importance, and by )

The key of the royal household in Isaiah 22 is a sign of the chief steward’s preeminent authority among the king’s ministers, an authority second only to the king himself. That they are worn on the shoulder seems to suggest ceremonial significance: The key is actually a token of office, not just a tool for locking or unlocking.

In Matthew 16:19, Jesus does not quote Isaiah 22:22 exactly, as if it were a prophecy of the Petrine office. Isaiah does not foretell Peter; neither Shebna nor Eliakim is a prophetic “type” of Peter in the sense that the Davidic king was a type of Christ.

Rather, Jesus alludes to an Old Testament passage that provides an interpretive precedent for what he is doing. Peter has just confessed Jesus as the Messiah, the son of David, the king of Israel. In reply, by giving Peter the keys of the kingdom, Jesus places Peter over the royal household.

This is a unique privilege; it is held by one. The other apostles also share in the power of binding and loosing; they also are stewards and ministers in the royal household. But the absence of the keys in Matthew 18:18 is not merely a formal detail. Only one is over the household. Only Peter has the keys. This is not merely halakhic authority to bind and loose, along with the other apostles. Peter is chief steward, with administrative authority second only to Jesus.

Why Peter? Whatever factors in Peter’s personality we might cite for or against him, Jesus makes it clear that it is “not by flesh and blood” that Peter comes to where he is now. It was by the Father’s choice that he came to confess Jesus, and by Jesus’ choice that he becomes the rock of the Church and the bearer of the keys. This is not to say that the other apostles lacked Peter’s faith, or that others before Peter had not confessed Jesus as Messiah (cf. John 1:49). But Jesus’ interpretation of Peter’s confession is definitive; it is Peter whom he pronounces blessed, Peter who becomes the rock, Peter who receives the keys.

Some polemicists attempt to evade the implications of Isaiah 22 for Matthew 16 by emphasizing that Isaiah 22 speaks of the disgrace and fall of an unworthy steward, and looks forward to the fall of his successor Eliakim as well. Isaiah 22 calls Eliakim “a peg in a sure place” from which hangs “the whole weight of his father’s house,” but concludes that the peg “will give way” and “the burden that was upon it will be cut off” (this appears to refer to Eliakim, though it’s not entirely clear). The implication, apparently, is that this would not bode well for Peter or for any office inaugurated on him.

This is to overplay the significance of the specific events described in Isaiah 22 for Matthew 16. Jesus does not pronounce Peter to be a new Shebna or Eliakim, as John the Baptist was a new Elijah. Shebna is not the first chief steward of David’s house; he is merely one in a long line of office holders. He is not a prophetic type of Peter, only someone who held an analogous office under the old covenant. Jesus’ allusion to Isaiah 22 simply references the office held by Shebna and Eliakim as a way of explaining Peter’s role in the Church and the kingdom.

Eliakim may be “a peg in a sure place” supporting “the whole weight of his father’s house,” but Peter is the rock that supports the Church built by Christ. Isaiah prophesies that the peg and its burden are destined to fall, but Jesus himself declares that the Church built upon this rock will not. Shebna and Eliakim’s authority was unquestioned within the royal household, but Peter’s authority to bind and loose is ratified by heaven itself. The differences tell as much as the similarities.

Another attempt to minimize Peter’s privilege in Matthew 16 involves pointing to the verses in Revelation 1 and 3 that speak of Jesus having the keys. In particular, Revelation 3:7 (“The words of the holy one, the true one, who has the key of David, who opens and no one shall shut, who shuts and no one opens”) unquestionably references Isaiah 22:22, even more directly than Matthew 16:19 — though Matthew 16:19 is functionally closer to Isaiah 22:22 in that both Isaiah 22:22 and Matthew 16:19 involve the entrusting of keys to a minister. In Revelation 3:7 Jesus declares that he has the key, but the key is neither given nor received in that passage, as in Isaiah 22 and Matthew 16.

This is fitting, since obviously the point of Revelation 3 is not that Jesus is now chief steward! Rather, Jesus has the key of David by virtue of being the king, while in Matthew 16 Peter receives the keys, like Eliakim, by virtue of being the king’s servant. There is no contradiction between Jesus giving Peter the keys in Matthew 16 and having the key in Revelation 3; Jesus does not give up the keys he entrusts to Peter, any more than he gives up the sheep he entrusts to Peter. (We will return to these verses when considering the question of succession.)

To see Peter as Jesus’ chief steward offers a definitive context in which to understand Peter’s primacy throughout the New Testament, and vice versa; each contextualizes the other. In Luke 22, when the whole company of Christ’s stewards are to be sifted by Satan, it is the chief steward that Jesus prays for, that he might strengthen the rest. It is the chief steward to whom Jesus gives the solemn threefold commission as vice shepherd, to whom Jesus appears first after the Resurrection.

It is the one to whom Jesus gives the keys, the master of the house, who leads the apostles in choosing a replacement for Judas, who speaks for the Twelve at Pentecost, who speaks before the Sanhedrin, who pronounces judgment (exercising the power of the keys) on Ananias and Sapphira (a pronouncement that is ratified by heaven).

It is the chief steward who receives the vision opening the door to Gentile believers — and who silences debate at the Jerusalem council by reminding the assembled that it was he whom God chose from among them all for that vision, just as he was chosen from among the Twelve at Caesarea Philippi.

It is also the chief steward whom Jesus rebuffs at Caesarea Philippi, who initially refuses Jesus’ foot-washing, who receives the rebuke for the sleeping disciples at Gethsemane, who denies Jesus three times, whom Paul must oppose to his face. The New Testament’s near preoccupation with Peter’s failures tells much the story as its interest in his outspokenness and leadership. Peter’s weakness is so significant precisely because he is the chief of the apostles.

More to come!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Petrine Fact, Part 7: And Upon This Rock, cont.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

Those who oppose identifying Peter as the rock on which the church is built in Matthew 16:18 typically interpose one or more of the following textual objections.

First, they rely on the opposition of the terms themselves: Petra is solid rock, petros, a detached stone; they cannot mean the same thing. If Jesus had meant to say he would build his church on Peter, they argue, he could have used the same word both times. In addition, some point to certain extra-Matthean passages (e.g., 1 Cor 3:11,1 Cor 10:4, 1 Peter 2:6ff) to argue that Jesus alone is the foundation stone; he would never speak of building his church on a fallible, sinful man like Peter.

None of these objections withstands scrutiny.

Begin with petra and petros. We have already seen in Part 5 that the distinction between petra and petros, never absolute, had become increasingly fuzzy and that the terms could be used interchangeably. This has now become commonplace in Protestant commentators (F. F. Bruce, D. A. Carson, Walter Elwell, etc.; documentation to come) after being highlighted by Oscar Cullman in the 10-volume Theological Dictionary of the New Testament (Kittel 6:98-108).

In particular, documentation of the ambiguity and interchangeability of the two words has been compiled by Caragounis, who cites many instances in both secular and biblical Greek of petra as a movable stone, petros as solid rock, and both words being used indeterminately to mean such things as the substance of stone, etc. (Caragounis 10-15. Note that, despite this, Caragounis argues against the identification of Peter as the rock.)

But that’s only the first problem. Even if it were possible to make a clear opposition between the terms, that still wouldn’t prevent Jesus or anyone else from playing on two disparate words to refer to the same reality. A difference in image does not entail a difference in referent.

To give a trivial example, suppose I saw my six-year-old daughter Anna wrestling with all her might with one of her older brothers, and I said to my wife Suzanne, “Look at the kitten. There’s a wildcat in here.” Obviously kittens and wildcats are two different things, but Suzanne would hardly reason that if the kitten is Anna, the wildcat must be something else.

Kittens and wildcats are different things, but they are used here as parallel images. It is synthetic and amplifying parallelism because the second image builds and expands upon the first. There is a deliberate and ironic contrast between the first image and the second, but also obviously a connection between the two (I didn’t pick two feline images by accident). The first image might suggest something about Anna’s habitual temperament (e.g., playfulness) as well as her relative stature, maturity and appearance (e.g., cuteness); the second image offers a contrasting observation about her current disposition and behavior (unexpected ferocity), supplying a side of Anna missing in the first image.

In a not dissimilar vein, suppose we were to grant opponents of the Petrine reading their best-case scenario, and give maximal, even exaggerated force to the traditional difference between the two words, rendering Jesus’ words as: “I say to you, you are a pebble, and on this solid rock I will build my church.” Would it then follow that the “solid rock” must mean something other than the “pebble”?

Not at all. A difference in image does not entail a difference in referent. Even granting differing shades of meaning between petra and petros, the differences don’t provide the leverage needed to avoid the conclusion that Jesus is talking about Peter right through the passage. The effective interchangeability of the two words merely underscores the point.

In particular, that it is Jesus himself speaking, and that he has already spoken about Peter’s confession coming “not by flesh and blood” but by the Father’s gift, further eradicates any difficulty about seeing continuity of thought rather than disjunction. If for Jesus the very rocks will cry out (Luke 19:40), at his word a pebble can be a mighty rock and a sure foundation. We may think here of Jesus’ words to Peter in Luke 22 (Part 3), in which he prayed that Simon’s faith might not fail, that he might strengthen his brethren: praying that weak, stumbling Simon might be a firm rock.

There is a third issue, the Aramaic question. The probability that Jesus and his disciples spoke customarily Aramaic among themselves is heightened in this passage by indications of underlying Aramaic, not least the transliterated Aramaic of Simon’s existing surname, bar-Jona. (Bar-Jona, “son of John,” is Aramaic; the Hebrew form would be ben-Jona.) Semitisms like flesh and blood, the gates of hades, binding and loosing, and heaven and earth also suggest an original Hebraic context.

The Aramaic is also suggested by Jesus’ emphatic reference to Peter’s new surname. Though Matthew gives this using the familiar Greek form Petros, it is likely (as previously noted, in view of the early use of Kephas in 1 Corinthians and Galatians 1-2 as well as John 1:42) that the original form of Peter’s surname was Aramaic Kepha, followed by Grecized Kephas, and finally the Greek translation Petros. Had Jesus given Simon the fully Greek form Petros from the start, it seems unlikely that the Grecized Aramaic form Kephas would ever have arisen. (This point seems to be overlooked by many commentators, particularly in debates over the original language behind Matthew 16.)

For all these reasons, it seems highly probable that Matthew 16:17-19 reflects a conversation that originally occurred in Aramaic, and that “You are Petros” translates “You are Kepha.” How did the saying continue? Was it “You are Kepha, and on this kepha I will build my church”? This is how the text is rendered in the Peshitta, the standard Aramaic translation of the New Testament, and many scholars regard it as the likely Aramaic original. I haven’t yet seen any convincing scholarly proposal of an alternate Aramaic original, though it does seem more likely than not that if Jesus had wanted another word he would have had options.

If Jesus repeated the same Aramaic word in both places, why wouldn’t the inspired Greek text of Matthew translate it the same way both times? To begin with, “You are Petros” is obviously the correct translation of the first clause, not only because of gender, but even more because Petros was Peter’s established name by the time Matthew wrote his Gospel. (Many commentators seem to forget this point, suggesting that Matthew had his choice of rock language, as if Mark’s Gospel and the previous dozen or so chapters of Matthew’s Gospel hadn’t been written; as if Peter hadn’t been Petros for decades.)

Could Matthew have gone on to render “upon this kepha” as “upon this petros,” given the relative interchangeability of petra and petros? Possibly, though the rarity of the common noun petros, which appears in the New Testament only as Peter’s name, and is all but absent in the Septuagint, may be a factor. If not necessarily denotatively different, petra offers resonances missing from petros; for example, echoing the parable of the wise and foolish builders in Matthew 7:24ff, in which the wise man builds upon petra (the natural word there) — a resonance Matthew may have wanted. It is also possible that varying the cognates seemed to the inspired Evangelist better Greek style than merely repeating the same word.

It might even be that for Matthew’s original readers, Petros was so well established as Peter’s name that repeating petros in the second line could have had a somewhat odd or counter-intuitive effect, not necessarily the same as, but not entirely unlike saying in English, “You are Peter, and on this Peter I will build my church.” Everyone knew, of course, that petros was also a word meaning rock or stone, but in everyday usage it would always be petra for rock and Petros for Peter’s name.

As the above consideration suggests, even if Jesus originally used the same Aramaic word twice referring to Peter both times, there is still a subtle conceptual distinction that would be implicit in Jesus’ original words, but highlighted by the inspired Matthean use of Petros and petra. This conceptual distinction would be glossed over in spoken Aramaic, and even in writing it would be invisible in a single-case script like Aramaic or first-century Greek, though in case-differentiated alphabets we may bring it out by capitalizing the first letter of Kepha and not of kepha, or for that matter of Petros and not of petra (the italics tell the same story).

It is the distinction between a proper noun and a common noun, Rock as appellation and rock as image. “You are Kepha” or “You are Petros” invokes Rock as proper noun, as appellation; “upon this kepha” or “upon this petra” invokes rock as common noun, as image. (As an aside, I’m not sure why some commentators seem to feel that the status of Rock as appellation is somehow entangled in questions about whether Kepha/Petros was already established as a given name, or whether Jesus was bestowing Peter’s surname or merely referencing it. As far as I can see, the apparent originality of Kepha as an appellation is no obstacle to Jesus using it as such, nor is it necessary to suppose that Jesus didn’t reinforce the surname on other occasions (cf. John 1:42, Luke 22:34). And, as we saw in Part 6, whether Jesus is bestowing Peter’s surname or merely referencing and explaining it doesn’t much affect the meaning of the passage, which at least has the force of an enactment similar to the renaming of Abraham and Sarah.)

Spoken out loud in Aramaic as Kepha and kepha, there may not have been any audible distinction between Rock as appellation and rock as image (nor would there be any difference in written Aramaic). The single word kepha, like French Pierre (Peter) and pierre (rock), would have been equally serviceable as an appellation and as a common noun. The inspired Greek text of Matthew, by using cognates rather than the same word, would make the conceptual distinction explicit, perhaps because of the familiarity of Petros as an appellation by that point. Petros tells us who the rock is, petra tells us what it means for him to be a rock in relation to Jesus building his church.

If Jesus said “You are Kepha, and on this kepha,” Matthew’s inspired Greek rendering as “You are Petros, and on this petra” slightly bends the original word-play (if indeed word-play is the right word) while maintaining the phonetic echo of the same root between the two lines. On the other hand, if Jesus used two unrelated Aramaic words, Matthew’s use of the cognate terms Petros and petra (rather than two unrelated Greek words) strengthens the connection, making the case for Peter as the rock stronger and more intuitive.

If the former, Jesus’ repetition of the same Aramaic word offers no slightest obstacle to identifying Peter as the rock; if the latter, Matthew’s translation offers inspired interpretive context, indicating that what Jesus said using two unrelated words can be understood in cognate, interchangeable terms.

The second objection, that other passages of scripture (1 Cor 3:11, 1 Cor 10:4, 1 Peter 2:6ff) teach that Jesus is the foundation stone, is even less persuasive.

First, some preliminary notes. It should be recognized that this objection is not merely an argument against Peter as the rock, but an argument for one specific alternative rock, Jesus himself — not Peter’s faith, Peter’s confession, the truth Peter has confessed, etc. Those who advocate for any of those other “rocks” gain no support by appealing to Jesus the foundation stone.

Second, the extra-Matthean texts often cited in this connection actually offer varying images. 1 Corinthians 3:11 calls Jesus the “foundation,” but 1 Peter 2:6ff calls him “a cornerstone chosen and precious” — not a foundation, nor bedrock or solid rock, but a detached stone (lithos) that has been cut and placed. For that matter, 1 Corinthians 3:11 also does not describe bedrock or solid rock, since Paul speaks of laying the foundation, i.e., a foundation of laid stones. Even so, 1 Corinthians 3 makes Jesus the whole foundation, while 1 Peter 2:6 merely makes him the cornerstone, part of a larger foundation. As for 1 Corinthians 10:4 — the only verse that actually uses petra — the “rock” that followed the Hebrews in the wilderness is not a foundational stone of any kind; nothing is built on it.

We have seen that different images can have the same referent. But the reverse is also true: A single image can be used of different referents — and foundational imagery is applied in different ways in the New Testament. Most notably, Ephesians 2:20 repeats the image of Christ as cornerstone, but adds “the foundation of the apostles and prophets.” A variation on this image appears in Revelation 21:14, where John speaks of “twelve foundations” bearing the names of the twelve apostles. Neither of these describes Jesus as the sole foundation, as per 1 Corinthians 3. (For more, see Jimmy’s brief essay “The Church’s Five Foundations.”)

In the case of Matthew 16:18, moreover, Jesus explicitly gives himself a role other than foundation or cornerstone: He is the one building on the rock. While a single referent can have multiple images, the image of building on the rock is essentially one image, not two. To construe Jesus as saying “Upon me I will build” seems odd to say the least — particularly coming from those who claim that a “stone” and a “rock” can never be the same thing, but now have no trouble imagining a builder who is also a foundation building on himself! (Incidentally, note the contrast with 1 Corinthians 3, where Paul speaks of others building on the foundation of Jesus. Sometimes others build on Jesus; sometimes Jesus builds on others.)

It should be noted that Jesus does not actually speak here of a “foundation,” but only of building his church upon “this rock.” The intended image here may be foundational bedrock (as per the parable of the wise and foolish builders), but it could also be that “this rock” is not the entire foundation, but part of a larger foundation — one of a number of foundation-stones, perhaps, as in Ephesians 2:20 and Revelation 21:14. One could argue, then, that just as Jesus here confers on Peter the power of binding and loosing, but later confers the same power on the company of the Twelve (Matt 18:18), so Jesus here speaks of building the church on Peter, but not in a sense that would exclude all of the apostles together forming the church’s foundation. In that case, the images in Matthew 16:18 and Ephesians 2:20 would be convergent, not disparate.

On the other hand, the echo of building upon petra from Matthew 7:24 supports the reading of “upon this rock” as “with this rock as the foundation.” Perhaps this reading is to be preferred.

In Part 6, we saw that the phrase “this rock” implies an antecedent, the closer, the more plausible. “You are Petros,” joined by “and” (copulative kai) to the following clause, is clearly some sort of deliberate antecedent to “upon this rock,” even on the theory that Jesus was only punning on Peter’s name and changing the subject. We are clearly meant to connect Petros and “this rock,” at least on the level of word-play.

Beyond that, the structure of Matthew 16:17-19, with its threefold declarations to and about Peter, followed by explanatory couplets, strongly implies that the entire complex saying is directed to Peter and expounds his role in God’s plan. Peter is directly addressed and spoken about immediately before “upon this rock” (“You are Peter”) and immediately after (“I give you the keys of the kingdom”). Identifying Peter as the rock provides the natural connection between the two adjacent clauses.

Finally, it is not hard to see what it would mean for Jesus to speak of building the church on Peter. All the apostles are foundation-stones, and Peter’s preeminence among the Twelve — a preeminence affirmed by Jesus himself, as seen in Luke 22, John 21 and now our present text — has been sufficiently documented. Few would dispute that Peter played a foundational role in the apostolic church. Whether “this rock” is foundational bedrock or a foundation-stone among others, there is no difficulty understanding that the church that is built on all of the apostles is in a special way built upon Peter.

The only remaining question is whether there is a sufficiently strong reason — it would have to be a slam-dunk reason — to avoid the obvious identification of Petros with “this rock,” and begin casting about for other more remote “rocks.” Neither the differences in the two terms Petros and petra, nor Jesus’ status as rock and foundation in other scriptural texts, offers such a reason. The only plausible conclusion is that Peter is in fact the rock on which Christ builds his church.

This need not be understood to elevate Peter above the Twelve, nor does it imply any unique virtue or merit on Peter’s part. It merely emphasizes Peter’s unique place among the Twelve, partly because of his personality, perhaps, but also partly because of Jesus’ choice. Peter is in a unique and preeminent way what all of the apostles are collectively. They are all foundation stones; Peter is surnamed Petros and declared to be the rock on which the church is built. In the same way, all the apostles are witnesses of the resurrection, but Christ appeared first to Peter; in the same way Christ gave to Peter the solemn threefold commission to tend his sheep, though all the apostles are shepherds.

Still less does Peter’s privilege infringe on Jesus’ divine prerogatives. The church, like the sheep, belong to Jesus, not Peter (“my church”; “my sheep”). Christ is the active agent building the church; Peter, like any of the apostles, is merely his instrument — though an instrument he singles out again and again.

Jesus does not give Peter license to conduct himself however he wills; the shepherd caring for the sheep of another cannot abuse or slaughter the sheep at will, nor can the foundation overturn the structure built upon it. In another moment, Jesus will rebuff Peter in the sternest way imaginable, and even after Pentecost it may be necessary for others to oppose Peter to his face.

None of this alters Jesus’ plain intent for the crucial, singular, foundational role that Peter will play. Whatever Peter’s failings, Jesus makes no provision for any church that is not built upon this rock.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Petrine Fact, Part 6: And Upon This Rock

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

“You are Petros, and on this rock I will build my church.” (Matt 16:18)

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.


Peter’s confession of Christ

We have arrived at ground zero in the Petrine controversy, one of the most bitterly disputed texts in all of sacred scripture. Here the Petrine fact looms most intractably and prominently, resisting all attempts to smooth it over or roll it aside. It is a sad irony that the rock to which Jesus attached such importance has become a stone of stumbling for so many, just as the primacy of Rome, for some an icon, almost a sacrament, of unity, has become a source of division.

At the same time, there have been encouraging developments. There is now near unanimity in Bible scholarship generally, Protestant as well as Catholic, that the rock on which Jesus builds his church is “not [Christ] himself, nor his teaching, nor God the Father, nor Peter’s confession, but Peter himself” (Chamblin 742). That is strongly put, since Peter the rock cannot be separated from the faith of his confession, but the rock has direct reference to Peter himself, not just the faith of his confession, as Evangelical and Protestant scholars now widely and correctly affirm.

Among the chorus of voices in this regard, as I will document eventually, are F. F. Bruce, D. A. Carson, Walter Elwell, R. T. France, Herman Ridderbos and Craig Blomberg. Thus Chrys C. Caragounis writes: “After centuries of disagreement it would appear that Protestant and Catholic are at last united in referring the rock upon which the Church according to Mt 16:18 is to be built, to the Apostle Peter” (Caragounis 1).

Ironically, Caragounis, an Eastern Orthodox scholar, makes a contrarian case for identifying the rock as Peter’s confession. In Orthodox scholarship, too, there has been movement toward recognizing Peter himself as the rock. Orthodox theologian Theodore Stylianopoulos, after surveying recent developments in Orthodox scholarship, writes:

That Orthodox scholars have gradually moved in the direction of affirming the personal application of Matt 16:17-19 to the Apostle Peter must be applauded. From the standpoint of critical scholarship it can no longer be disputed that Jesus’ words to Peter as reported in Matt 16:17-19 confer a special distinction on Peter as “rock” — the foundation on which Christ promised to build his Church. … These points are now conceded by conservative Protestant scholars as well. (Kasper 48-49)

The pericope begins in Matthew 16:13, in which Jesus asks the Twelve what people are saying about him, and receives a number of different answers: John the Baptist, Elijah, Jeremiah or one of the prophets.

Then comes the crucial question: “But who do you say I am?” As often elsewhere, Peter speaks up for the Twelve: “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

The next three verses are a remarkable composition, well capable of bearing all the critical scrutiny they have received. Here is Jesus’ reply in full:

1. Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona!

1a. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you,

1b. but my Father who is in heaven.

2. And I tell you, you are Petros,

2a. and on this rock I will build my church,

2b. and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it.

3. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven,

3a. and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven,

3b. and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

The above blocking highlights a point made by Jimmy Akin (I haven’t seen it developed in this form by anyone else) regarding the three-part structure of each of the three verses. Each verse starts with a major or leading clause, followed by a supporting couplet, the two clauses of which jointly illuminate and expound upon the major clause.

What is more, in each of the three leading clauses, Jesus both addresses Peter and makes a pronouncement regarding Peter: “1. Blessed are you, Simon bar-Jona! … 2. And I tell you, you are Petros … 3. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” As we will see, each of these pronouncements is in some way unparalleled; each is extraordinary in itself, and all three together are an astonishing manifesto on Peter’s behalf.

It is not surprising, then, that each of the three major Petrine pronouncements is followed by a couplet illuminating or commenting upon what Jesus has just said to Peter and about Peter. This is so clear that no one denies this in the first or third verses; everyone recognizes that “Flesh and blood has not revealed this to you / but my Father who is in heaven” is a commentary on “Blessed are you, Simon bar-Jona”, and that “whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven / and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” is a commentary on “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”

Yet sandwiched between those two verses is a verse that follows precisely the same pattern, yet here the pattern has historically been contested by some. It has been argued that “On this rock I will build my church / and the powers of death shall not prevail against it” is not a commentary on “I tell you, you are Petros”; that after saying “You are Petros,” Jesus in effect changes the subject from the previous thought, merely punning on Petros in order to talk about some quite distinct petra — only to return to Peter in the following verse.

Start at the beginning. Jesus opens with an unparalleled benediction: “Blessed are you, Simon bar-Jona!” Nowhere else in the Gospels does Jesus pronounce such a blessing on any individual; Peter aside, people are pronounced blessed by Jesus only in groups or classes, in the abstract, or both. To find this singular beatitude at the outset of this crucial Petrine text is itself a notable token of the Petrine fact.

Jesus then goes on to expound upon the benediction of this first remarkable clause in a supporting couplet clarifying Peter’s beatitude: “For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you / but my Father who is in heaven.” Peter’s beatitude is not something he achieved himself; it is the gift of the Father.

It must be remembered, too, that the blessing is counter-balanced six verses by the equally singular rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan!” (or “Get behind me, you satan!”). Most of Jesus’ maledictions, like his blessings, are aimed at groups (“Woe to you scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites,” Matt 23:13ff), and even Herod was only called a fox (Luke 13:32). Peter alone is called by that harsh word, adversary, that denotes the enemy of mankind.

Once again, then, the point is not that Peter was personally uniquely holy or favored only in positive ways; he wasn’t. Rather, the point is simply Peter’s unique prominence, partly rooted perhaps in his own qualities for good and for ill, but also bound up in Jesus’ own choice, resulting in unique privileges but also unique chastenings. “Every one to whom much is given, of him will much be required” (Luke 12:48): Peter is singularly blessed and singularly chastised; in either case his position is unique.

Then comes the second leading clause: “And I say to you, you are Petros.” The first word, kagõ (a contraction of “And I”), is emphatic (the Greek doesn’t require the explicit first-personal pronoun); Jesus underscores that it is he, the Messiah confessed by Peter, who speaks. Jesus may also be counterpointing his own words to the Father’s gift to Peter; the Father has revealed Jesus’ identity to Peter, and now it is the Son’s turn to reveal something to Peter.

“You are Petros.” Peter has told Jesus who he is (“You are the Messiah”); now Jesus tells Peter who he is. Is this merely declarative, or performative? Is Jesus making an observation, or giving Peter his new name here and now?

John 1:42 relates Jesus telling Peter at their first meeting, “You will be called Kephas,” a saying that could be read as either as an enactment or as a proleptic or prophetic utterance (the future tense could mean either “from this point forward” or “at some point in the future”). In Mark 3 the list of the Twelve begins “Simon whom he surnamed Peter,” but ends with “Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him” (Mark 3:15-19). Obviously Judas has not already betrayed Jesus in chapter 3; by the same token, we cannot conclude that Jesus has already surnamed Simon Peter at that point in the narrative.

The Evangelists all use the name Peter early on. In fact, John 1 refers to “Simon Peter” in verse 40, before Jesus and Peter have even met, and Matthew likewise identifies the apostle as “Simon who is called Peter” (Matt 4:18) the moment Jesus sees him, before they have spoken. It is reasonable to conclude that the Gospels use the name Peter from the start because that is the name readers know him by; it doesn’t tell us when he first began to go by that name.

Other than John 1:42, then, there is no clear evidence of Jesus or anyone else calling Peter Kephas or Petros prior to Matthew 16:18. On the contrary, what evidence we have suggests that Jesus continued to use the name Simon (e.g., Matt 17:25, Mark 14:37, Luke 22:31, John 21:15, the late exception being Luke 22:34). The question, then, is whether Jesus’ words to Peter at their meeting — “You will be called Kephas” — are grounds for concluding that henceforth the apostle began to be known by that surname.

It seems an open question. It’s possible that Jesus and others began to call Simon Kephas right away, or that the surname caught on at some other point prior to Matthew 16. The Gospels offer scant evidence either way.

On the one hand, there is no indication in John 1 that anyone but Andrew heard the saying; if Jesus himself continued to use Simon’s given name, it seems plausible that Peter’s brother (and business partners James and John), who had always called him Simon, would similarly continue to call him the name they had always used. On the other hand, it’s also plausible that Andrew might at least have told James and John about the strange saying, so that eventually all the Twelve would know the story, and Simon might start to be known as Kephas or Petros without another word from Jesus after John 1:42.

What seems certain is that Matthew 16 describes an event that would certainly have caused the surname to stick if it hadn’t already. Not only is it an emphatic, present-tense pronouncement before all the Twelve, the occasion of Peter’s confession is the sort of circumstance that elicits surnames from rabbis and other authorities. (For example, Barnabas, Son of Encouragement, was the surname given to Joseph of Cyprus by the apostles in Acts 4:36, possibly in connection with the act described in the next verse, i.e., laying at the apostles’ feet the money from the sale of his field. Certainly he was not surnamed Barnabas out of the blue.)

It is also worth noting that the structure of verse 18 is notably similar to the texts in Genesis in which Abram, Sarai and Jacob receive their new names, followed by an exposition of the significance of the new name:

No longer shall your name be Abram, but your name shall be Abraham;

for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations.

I will make you exceedingly fruitful;

and I will make nations of you,

and kings shall come forth from you.” (Genesis 17:5-6)

As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name.

I will bless her,

and moreover I will give you a son by her;

I will bless her,

and she shall be a mother of nations;

kings of peoples shall come from her. (Gen 17:15-16)

Your name shall no more be called Jacob, but Israel,

for you have striven with God and with men,

and have prevailed. (Gen 32:28)

The parallels are most striking in the case of Abraham and Sarah, where the commentary takes the form of an account of the inaugural role they will have in the new stage of God’s plan of salvation. Jacob’s name change also seems generally indicative of his election for the new stage in God’s plan (though this point isn’t explicitly drawn out in the commentary on the name).

If Jesus is not effectively renaming Peter in Matthew 16, he seems to be doing something remarkably similar. At the very least, even if Peter already went by his surname, the renewed pronouncement of the surname, in the solemn and emphatic context of the passage, seems to invest it with further significance — significance that almost goes beyond a mere surname, that is more like a new identity and a new mission. (It may even be worth noting here that Jacob’s new name Israel is also given twice, in Gen 32:28 and again in Gen 35:10 — and that even after both renamings Israel also continues to be called Jacob both by the sacred writer and even by God, e.g., Gen 46:2-5, etc.)

All of this suggests that the pronouncement of Peter’s new name reflects a new role in Jesus’ messianic plan, one that seems to call for further explication. As previously noted, efforts have been made, especially in the past, to deny that “upon this rock” constitutes such commentary, to argue that it must refer to some distinct petra. Not until verse 19, on this reading, does Jesus say more about Peter’s new role. The effect seems not unlike revising Genesis 17:5-6 to read, “No longer shall your name be Abram [exalted father], but your name shall be Abraham [father of a multitude], and I the Lord shall be exalted among the nations, and a father to my people. And I will make you exceedingly fruitful…”

If “this rock” is not Peter, what is it? There’s the rub. Literarily, the demonstrative pronoun “this” implies an antecedent. Some older Protestant writers tried to float the notion that Jesus might have gestured toward himself as he said “this rock” — an exegetical conceit that would reduce Matthew’s purpose to merely relating dialogue without conveying meaning (not to mention being difficult to reconcile with sola scriptura, for what that’s worth). In the absence of other indication, the Gospel text clearly indicates a continuation of thought, not a change of subject.

The conjunction “and” (kai) links the second clause (“upon this rock”) to the main clause (“I say to you, you are Petros”). Peter is the topic of the preceding and following verses. The connection between Petros and petra is unmistakable; even on the theory that Jesus was merely punning on Petros but talking about something else, the pun itself presupposes that Petros is the first thing we think of when we hear petra.

Petros, then, is the obvious antecedent, petra the obvious continuation of thought between “You are Petros” and “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” Only if there were some insurmountable obstacle to identifying Petros as petra would it be feasible to set aside that connection and cast about for more remote, less obvious possible referents: Peter’s confession, Peter’s faith, the truth about Christ, Christ himself.

The next post will examine proposed obstacles to identifying Peter as the rock, as well as difficulties with alternate proposals. More to come.

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Petrine Fact, Part 5: Peter’s New Name

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8


The Calling of the Apostles Peter and Andrew (Duccio di Buoninsegna, 1308)

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“So you are Simon the son of John? You shall be called Kephas (which means Petros)” (John 1:42).

All four Gospels tell us that Simon bar-Jona was renamed Petros (i.e., Peter) or Kephas by Jesus himself (Matthew 16:18, Mark 3:16, Luke 6:14, John 1:42). As John 1:42 indicates, Petros and Kephas are synonymous; both mean more or less “rock” or “a stone” (questions of nuance will be explored below).

Petros (Πέτρος) is cognate to petra (πέτρα), the usual Greek word for rock. Kephas (Κηφας) is a Grecized transliteration of kepha, an Aramaic word with the same basic meaning. (Kephas is often rendered in English as Cephas, following the Latin transliteration. This spelling works better in Latin than in English, though, since in Latin Cephas is pronounced “Keyfas,” while in English it is usually pronounced “Seefas.” For English speakers, Kephas is a better transliteration.)

Both Kephas and Petros are used by Paul in Galatians, apparently interchangeably (Kephas in Gal 1:18 and 2:9-14, Petros in Gal 2:7-8). Earlier, in 1 Corinthians, Paul uses Kephas consistently (1:12, 3:22, 9:5, 15:5), including the very early credal formula of 15:5.

The indications in Paul suggest that the Grecized form Kephas was used very early among Greek-speaking Christians, possibly before Petros. This reinforces the likelihood that Aramaic Kepha, to which Kephas in John 1:42 points, is the original form of Peter’s new name as given by Jesus, who would most likely have customarily spoken Aramaic among his Galilean disciples.

Thus, Simon Peter was probably first called Kepha (in Aramaic speech), then Kephas (in Greek speech), and finally Petros (again in Greek). Adding the final “s” or sigma for the Grecized form Kephas conforms the word in Greek to masculine nouns of the second declension, making it masculine rather than feminine, as befitting a man’s name. (For Greek speakers, the name Kepha without the final sigma would be taken for a woman’s name.)

In the same way, Greek petra is feminine (first declension), Petros masculine (second declension), so Petros rather than Petra is the natural equivalent of the masculine-form Grecized Kephas, and, again, appropriate for a man’s name.

Even after Peter receives his new name, the old name, Simon, doesn’t entirely disappear. In the Gospels Jesus himself continues to use Simon most of the time (Matt 17:25, Mark 14:37, Luke 22:31, John 21:15), though not always (Luke 22:34), and others use Simon at least occasionally (Luke 24:34). But the Evangelists almost never refer to Peter simply as Simon, except very early on. He is either “Simon called Petros” or “Simon Petros” (particularly in John), or else simply Petros, probably indicating the prevalence of Petros as the familiar version of the name at the time when the Gospels were written.

In Acts, Luke only uses Petros, except when relating how the men from Cornelius, sent by the angel, come seeking “Simon called Petros.” The angel in Peter’s vision addresses him as Petros (Acts 10:1-18). The only other echo of Simon in Acts comes from James, at the Jerusalem Council, who uses the form Simeon, a more Semitic form of the name. This form is also attested in the opening of 2 Peter, where it is conjoined with Peter: “Simeon Petros, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ”; 1 Peter begins simply, “Petros, an apostle of Jesus Christ.”

Paul never uses Simon, only Kephas or Petros. From this, and from the prevalence of Petros in the Gospels and Acts, it seems clear that Peter’s new name was well established and widely used in the first-century church.

The surnaming of Peter by Jesus is unique in a number of respects. Mark’s Gospel mentions that the other two disciples of Jesus’ inner circle, James and John, received the collective nickname Boanerges, “Sons of Thunder.” But that lone mention is the only time this sobriquet is ever heard from; we never read, for example, that “Jesus took with him Peter and the Sons of Thunder” or any such thing. They are sometimes referred to collectively as the sons of Zebedee, but never the Sons of Thunder. Nor is there any mention of “James Son of Thunder” or “John Son of Thunder.” James is never called anything but James, nor John anything but John.

Likewise, the popular notion that Jesus changed Saul’s name to Paul is a misconception. Like many of his peers, Paul, a Jew and a Roman citizen in a Hellenized world, had simply acquired more than one name. The shift in Acts from Saul to Paul is merely the narrator’s way of transitioning literarily from the story of Saul’s Pharisaical Jewish origins to his better-known identity as the great apostle to the Gentiles. Symbolic, certainly, but there is no indication of a name change. The story of Paul’s conversion is related three times in Acts (once by Luke, twice by Paul), with no indication that Jesus ever called Saul anything but “Saul, Saul” (cf. Acts 9, 22 and 26). Then, at a certain point, Luke simply tells us that Saul was “also called Paul” (Acts 13:9), and goes from there. There is no parallel to the significance of Peter’s new name, especially as we find it expounded in Matthew 16, where it is part of a solemn commission speech.

In fact, the closest parallels in scripture to Peter’s new name are found in the Old Testament, particularly in the stories of Abraham, Sarah, and Israel, who all receive new names from God in passages with notable parallels to Matthew 16, as we will see.

Among other things, Jesus’ choice of Peter’s new name is in a way as paradoxical as the choice of Abraham (“father of a multitude”) for a childless old man. This is very different, probably, from the nickname “Sons of Thunder,” which likely reflects an assessment of the personalities or dispositions of the sons of Zebedee (possibly as seen in Luke 9:54). In the same way, the surname Barnabas (Son of Encouragement), given to Joseph of Cyprus by the apostles (Acts 4:36), was probably indicative of his personality. It is easy to feel that Kepha/Kephas/Petros is hardly illustrative of Peter’s personality in the same way.

On the contrary, Peter is well known as a man of shifting extremes — impetuous, unsteady, at turns fervent and foolish, faithful and fearful, promising the greatest fidelity, then failing most spectacularly — anything but rock-like, however nuanced or glossed the notion of rockness might be. This is not to say that Peter’s personality was not a factor at all, only that in itself it does not seem to be a sufficient explanation. As we will see, “Rock” seems to be primarily indicative of Jesus’ intention for the role he would give to Peter, rather than any attributes Peter possessed in himself.

Further heightening the drama of Peter’s name change is the apparent novelty in contemporary usage of Aramaic Kepha and Greek Petros as a given name. In subsequent Christian usage Peter became a popular name thanks to its apostolic namesake, but when Simon bar-Jona was first called that, it was apparently unheard of. (This point isn’t definitive; there is one apparent instance of Aramaic Kepha as a name in a legal document from the 5th century BC, and others might be discovered.)

(This is as good a point as any for a disclaimer to the effect that I am neither a student of language nor learned in ancient texts. In this post I’m reliant on a number of works that need to be sourced. I’ll try to come back in the near future and re-edit to credit sources. In the meantime, comments, queries and corrections are all welcome. As always, when a non-expert is synthesizing technical material, mistakes are possible. Further updates may be forthcoming on the basis of such feedback.)

Aramaic kepha is cognate to Hebrew keph, a rare word found only in Jeremiah 4:29 and Job 30:6, where it has the sense of mountain crags or rocky terrain. In both texts keph is translated petra (cognate to petros) in the Greek Old Testament translation, the Septuagint.

Aramaic kepha is more widely used than its Hebrew cognate. In fact, it can be used to translate any of the common Hebrew words for rock: sela‘ and tsûr (both usually rendered in the Greek Septuagint as petra) as well as ’eben, a stone (usually rendered lithos in Greek).

A word of explanation may be helpful here. As the above suggests, there is a broad distinction in both Hebrew and Greek between words that often mean something like solid rock, bedrock, rocky terrain, cliff wall, etc., and words that usually indicate a stone or detached rock on some movable scale: a boulder, a precious gem, a thrown rock, a shaped stone, etc. Hebrew sela‘ and tsûr (often used in parallel), and Greek petra, are typically “rock solid” language, while Hebrew ’eben and Greek lithos usually indicate rocks of the smaller and more mobile type.

The above I take to be fairly noncontroversial; but two other words, one Greek and one Aramaic, are sometimes controverted particularly in discussions about Peter. Greek petros and Aramaic kepha are asserted, usually by non-Catholics, to mean more or less the same as lithos or ’eben, i.e., a movable stone, in contradistinction to petra or tsûr, solid rock. (One sometimes encounters the claim that Aramaic shua‘, cognate to Hebrew tsûr, is the rock-solid equivalent of petra.)

Kepha first. It is true that kepha can mean a stone, boulder or small rock, and is accordingly used in Aramaic texts to translate Hebrew ’eben in the same passages where the Greek has lithos. Aramaic also has another word, ’evna, cognate to Hebrew ’eben, that may often have a similar meaning. But ’evna is apparently uncommon, leaving kepha, maybe, to pick up some of the slack.

However, kepha is also used in Aramaic texts to translate Hebrew sela‘ and tsûr where the latter indicate solid rock. The usual Greek translation in these cases is petra, indicating that kepha and petra can function more or less synonymously.

For example, the water-giving rock (sela‘) struck by Moses in the wilderness (Num 20:8-11), the rock (sela‘) on which the psalmist stands securely (Psalm 40:2), and the prophet’s “shadow of a great rock (sela‘) in a weary land” (Isaiah 32:2) are all rendered kepha in Aramaic targums (Targum Onkelos, Targum Jerusalem). Other targums attest kepha for tsûr in such texts as Deuteronomy 32:4 and Isaiah 17:10, where rock is used metaphorically for God himself (i.e., solid rock).

Significantly, discoveries in Qumran targums have found pre-Christian evidence for kepha referring to rocky mountain summits or crags (sela‘) in Job 39:1,28 and 1 Enoch 89:29. I am not aware of any corresponding evidence of Aramaic shua‘ (cognate of Hebrew tsûr) attested prior to medieval Aramaic texts; for all I know, that the word may not have been available in Jesus’ day.

For each of the above passages, wherever the Aramaic uses kepha for sela‘ or tsûr, the Greek Septuagint translation is petra (except where rock metaphors are lost in translation, e.g., Isa 32:2). Petra is the usual word for rock in the Septuagint, and also appears a number of times in the New Testament. The masculine form, petros, is virtually unknown in either, except as Peter’s name in the New Testament.

In the Attic Greek of classical poetry, petros is sometimes used in the sense of a stone or movable rock, perhaps more or less synonymously with lithos, in contradistinction to petra. In the common Koine Greek of biblical literature, this distinction is virtually unknown. As a rule, when the Greek biblical texts want to reference a movable stone, they use lithos, not petros. This rule is not, however, quite without exception: A single Greek Old Testament book, 2 Maccabees, offers two instances of petros referring to thrown stones (2 Macc 1:16 and 4:41).

On the other hand, petra need not always mean massive rock over against lithos (or petros) in biblical Greek. In Isaiah 8:14 in the Septuagint, and again in Romans 9:33 and 1 Peter 2:8, both apparently drawing on the Septuagint, we read of “a stone (lithos) that will make men stumble and a rock (petra) that will make them fall.” Lithos and petra are thus used in parallel, not opposition, referring to a stone capable of being tripped over.

Kepha is even more flexible. It can be used equivalently to lithos (a stone) or to petra in the sense of rock mass. Like the English word rock, kepha seems to run the gamut of meaning, and no specific sense can be insisted on in advance.

As with Aramaic kepha and Greek petra/petros, the Hebrew words sela‘ and tsûr are not used in the Old Testament as Hebrew personal names (though there seems to have been a Canaanite or two named Sur; see Num 25:15 and 1 Chron 8:30). Both tsûr and sela‘ are, however, metaphorically applied to God himself so frequently, particularly in Psalms and Isaiah, that “Rock” almost becomes a sort of divine title: “the Rock,” “our Rock,” “my Rock,” “the Rock of Israel,” “the Rock of your refuge,” etc. (e.g., Deut 32:4,15-18,31; 2 Sam 22:2,32,47; Psa 18:2,31,46; Isa 17:10).

Such rock language seems to have been exclusive to God; we never read that David or Moses was a rock, etc. It may be the link between rock language and God was generally considered too close to comfortably apply such language to men, whether as a name or as a metaphor.

But this rule, too, is not without exception. There is a rabbinic tradition that may well have gone back to Jesus’ day, describing one man as a rock: Abraham. Based on Isaiah 51:1-2 (“look to the rock (tsûr) from which you were hewn, and to the quarry from which you were digged; Look to Abraham your father and to Sarah who bore you”), a number of Talmudic and midrashic texts, the earliest of which go back to the mid-second century, interpreted Abraham as the “rock” from which God’s people were hewn.

What is the significance of Jesus renaming Simon Kepha or Kephas? In what sense is Peter a rock? It is time at last to turn to Matthew 16.

More to come.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

The Petrine Fact, Part 4: Peter, Paul, and James

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“Then after three years I went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas, and remained with him fifteen days” (Gal 1:18).

“But when Cephas came to Antioch I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned” (Gal 2:11).


Icon of Saints Peter and Paul (the happy meeting)

The great apostles Peter and Paul stand face to face in these two moments, one congenial, one painful — fixed points in a sea of questions surrounding Paul’s narrative in the first two chapters of Galatians. In between Paul mentions one other meeting at Jerusalem, involving James the brother of Jesus as well as Peter and Paul (Gal 2:1-10), probably overlapping with Luke’s account in Acts 15 of the council at Jerusalem.

Paul’s narrative first. Galatians 1–2 offers a highly polemical account in which Paul sharply defends his apostolic ministry against the allegations of detractors, who are Judaizers or circumcision partisans, insisting on observance of Torah for all Christians, Jew or Gentile.


St. James the Just

Paul’s defense suggests that his full apostleship had been impugned; he was apparently dismissively regarded by some as a sort of junior apostle, a mere disciple of the great apostles of Jerusalem — a claim that for some may have been supported by reports of Paul’s visits to the holy city. Rumors of confrontation like the one Paul describes may have further led to the impression that Paul’s stance on the Law was not the last word on the subject; and Paul’s silence regarding the outcome of his public denunciation of Peter leaves us wondering just how things panned out, and how quickly the rift was healed.

The matter is further complicated by evidence from the Acts of the Apostles, which, as we have previously seen, credits Peter himself with opening the door to acceptance of Gentile believers, without requiring circumcision or observance of Torah. Peter defends this teaching against Judaizing tendencies, not only in Acts 11, but in Acts 15, in the Jerusalem council, where he and Paul are of one mind on the subject. Peter’s searing rhetorical question about “mak[ing] trial of God by putting a yoke upon the neck of the disciples which neither our fathers nor we have been able to bear” (Acts 15:10) is as eloquent a statement of Paul’s thesis as anything Paul writes in Galatians.

In fact, based on the witness of Acts, we may say that in Galatians 2:11ff Paul confronts Peter with Peter’s own gospel message, the message that Peter himself received by revelation and first taught in the church. This, of course, only intensifies the sting of Paul’s charge of “hypocrisy” or “insincerity” — a charge that Paul gives full weight in that damning phrase “stood condemned.”

Yet how are we to account for the contrast between Paul’s lacerating invective in Galatians against the circumcision party — “I wish they would go the whole way and emasculate themselves!” (Gal 5:12) — and the report in Acts 16:3 that Paul himself, shortly after the Jerusalem council in the previous chapter, had Timothy circumcised for the sake of Jewish observers? Is this the same Paul who uncompromisingly declared “if you receive circumcision, Christ will be of no advantage to you” (Gal 5:2), and made much of Titus’s non-circumcision (Gal 2:3)?

Or what are we to make of Paul’s genuflection to Jewish Torah sensibilities at the behest of presbyters in Jerusalem, where he offers sacrifices to purify Jewish Christians according to the Law (Acts 21:17ff)? (Luke tells us that these presbyters are in the company of James the brother of Jesus, just as in Galatians 2 it is “men from James” who occasioned Peter’s scandalous and divisive behavior in Antioch. Yet in Acts 15 James concurs with Peter and Paul.)

Are we to infer that Paul himself “stood condemned” on the same charges he leveled at Peter in Galatians 2? Whatever answer we make, in asking the question we do not, of course, question the fundamental truth that Paul proclaims. The Gospel does not stand or fall with the behavior of those who proclaim it, and no one is beyond reproach, not even Paul, not even Peter. If, as we have seen, Jesus’ prayer in Luke 22 for Peter to strengthen his brethren proved efficacious, Galatians 2 is a sobering indication that even after Pentecost Peter could still stumble.

There is much we could wish to know about the events Paul narrates in Galatians 1–2. What was Peter’s response to Paul’s challenge? What transpired between them after this? What would an account of the events from Peter’s or Barnabas’s perspective look like? Why was Peter in Antioch in the first place? Where did he go next? Where does the second visit to Jerusalem in Paul’s account (Gal 2:1-10) fit into Luke’s chronology in Acts? Does this visit coincide with the Jerusalem council of Acts 15? Or is it an earlier visit, or a later one?

Whatever we may say about any of these questions, one thing is clear: In Galatians 2:11ff Paul indicts Peter with respect to his behavior, not his teaching or belief.

Paul himself leaves no doubt that Peter was personally quite willing to extend table-fellowship to non-Judaized Gentile believers. In fact, that was Peter’s modus operandi when he first arrived in Antioch (2:12). Paul even goes so far as to say that Peter lived “like a Gentile, not like a Jew” (2:14). It was not until the “men from James” arrived that Peter “drew back and separated himself, fearing the circumcision party” (Gal 2:12). The charge is not false teaching, but “hypocrisy” or “insincerity,” indicating a discrepancy between belief and action.

The very fact that Paul singles out Peter, both verbally in Antioch and literarily in Galatians 2, is revealing. Peter wasn’t the only one acting “insincerely”; “the rest of the Jews” (i.e., Jewish Christians) did the same. Nor does Paul say that Peter was the first to do so, or that the others were only following his lead. He does blame the others collectively for Barnabas’ defection, but beyond that only says “with him [Peter] the rest of the Jews acted insincerely” (not that they acted insincerely because of Peter).

Nevertheless, Paul directs his attack solely at Peter, not at the rest. All were “insincere,” but it is only Peter that Paul says “stood condemned.” More than that, Paul makes much — it wouldn’t be too strong to say he boasts — to the Galatians of his confrontation with Peter. This cannot be solely because of the importance the Galatians attach to Peter; Paul himself recognizes Peter’s preeminence, in the very fact that he holds Peter personally responsible for the shameful behavior of the rest.

That’s a rather backhanded compliment; but there is also the more straightforward acknowledgment of Peter’s preeminence in the previous chapter: one that is all the more significant in view of Paul’s polemical purpose, and his specific grievance against Peter in chapter 2. Three years after his conversion, Paul says, he “went up to Jerusalem to visit Cephas.” He even notes that he saw “none of the other apostles” — except, he adds, James the Lord’s brother, but to see Peter (not James) was the specific purpose of the visit.

This is a notable acknowledgment. Paul didn’t have to say that it was to visit Peter that he went to Jerusalem; he didn’t have to mention a purpose at all. He could have simply said that he went to Jerusalem and spent fifteen days with Peter (and James), or that he went to Jerusalem to visit with any of the apostles that happened to be there. But no: When he went to Jerusalem, it was not merely to visit with some of those who knew Jesus in his earthly ministry, but to meet with Peter specifically. Why he went to see Peter specifically, Paul doesn’t say. Apparently there was no need. Peter was the obvious person Paul would have wanted to see.

Then comes the Jerusalem visit of Galatians 2:1-10. For what it’s worth, I agree with the majority of commentators in viewing this passage as parallel with Luke’s account of the Jerusalem council in Acts 15. In both passages, Paul, Barnabas, and one or more others travel from Syria to Jerusalem in response to a challenge from Judaizers over circumcision. The apostles (Peter and James are mentioned in both passages) welcome them, hear what they have to say, and affirm that Gentiles are to be received without circumcision or the yoke of Torah. Afterward, Paul and Barnabas proceed to Antioch, where a rift occurs between them. Whatever difficulties arise in reading the two accounts in parallel are less problematic than supposing that all these things happened twice, so that, e.g., Paul, having already traveled from Syria to Jerusalem in response to a challenge about circumcision to consult with Peter and James, then did so again in response to a second challenge. (Additional difficulties arise from efforts to fit Galatians 2:1-10 anywhere else in Luke’s chronology.)

In any case, on the visit Paul describes, he acknowledges laying his message before the apostles — i.e., “James, Cephas and John, who were reputed to be pillars” — “lest somehow,” he says, “I should be running or had run in vain.”

He is quick to add that “those who were of repute added nothing to me” and “gave me and Barnabas their right hands in partnership, that we should go to the Gentiles.” Nevertheless, Paul considers that “partnership” to be an important mark of his not “running in vain.” Given how sharply Paul has defended his full equality to the other apostles, this is a notable acknowledgement that Paul’s ministry, while not subordinate to the Twelve, must be in solidarity with the Twelve, here represented by Peter, John and James.

Peter, Peter, Peter. Peter figures prominently in all three episodes Paul relates to the Galatians; he is not always alone, but he is always there. Paul’s case depends on Peter; depends on Peter being the leader that he is. The whole force of the third episode is that it is Peter that Paul opposes to his face. No one is beyond reproach; no one is above the gospel.

In the middle episode, we find Peter among a triumvirate of apostles, similar to Jesus’ inner circle, but with a different James: The brother of John has been slain, and the brother of Jesus (the same James from whom the Judaizers came in 2:12) is now a prominent leader among the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 12:17, 21:17-24). How prominent is he? And what is Peter’s place in this triumvirate?

The early Fathers regarded James as the first bishop of Jerusalem. Less traditionally, some modern commentators have seen the sequence of Paul’s mention of “James, Cephas and John” a subtle indication that Peter has been supplanted as the Jerusalem church’s most prominent leader. There is, though, another reason for Paul to mention James first: James’ apparent connection to the Judaizing controversy that is Paul’s primary concern. If Judaizers in Galatia have pitted anyone against Paul, James is the most likely candidate. Therefore, Paul’s acceptance by James, and James’ agreement with the non-circumcision of Gentiles (e.g., Titus), is crucial to Paul’s point.

Likewise, in Luke’s account of the Jerusalem council, James has been seen by some as having the decisive voice, since he is the last to speak, and his “judgment” provides the final shape of the council’s decision. Yet once again James’ association with the Judaizing controversy makes it natural that his agreement would mark the denouement of the discussion. James has the last word, not because he has the ultimate say, but because he represents the party that needs to be convinced.

Regardless of James’ role, Peter clearly plays a decisive part in the proceedings — and he does so by appealing in strikingly strong terms to his own God-given role in opening the door to receiving the Gentiles:

And after there had been much debate, Peter rose and said to them, “Brethren, you know that in the early days God made choice among you, that by my mouth the Gentiles should hear the word of the gospel and believe.” (Acts 15:7)

This is almost astonishingly frank. Not only does Peter say that it was God’s will that the Gentiles should be received — not only does he say that he himself was God’s instrument — he states emphatically that God chose him from among all the apostles and elders to make his will known on this point. Out of all of you, Peter says, God chose me to bring the gospel to the Gentiles. A stronger affirmation of Peter’s right to speak with greater authority than anyone else can scarcely be imagined.

Note, incidentally, that the word “gospel,” used only twice in Acts, appears here for the first time (the other instance is 20:24). Note, too, Peter’s reference to God speaking “by my mouth,” language that Peter elsewhere applies in Acts to David and the prophets (Acts 1:16, 3:18-21, 4:25), but here applies to himself — the only New Testament figure in Acts so described.

Before Peter’s speech, Luke states there was “much debate,” but Peter’s speech silences the assembly, allowing Paul and Barnabas give supporting testimony (15:7,12). Finally, when James offers his “judgment” (the Greek word apparently has the sense of “opinion” rather than “verdict”), he expressly recalls Simon’s words, adding that the prophets agree, and appending some pastoral concerns for the sensibilities of his Jewish constituency.

It is thus explicitly Peter’s teaching — the teaching for which Peter insists he himself was divinely chosen out of all the apostles and elders — that the Jerusalem council maintains.

In spite of his forceful language, Peter takes the lead, as he usually does, in a simple, direct, natural manner. He has, presumably, well internalized Jesus’ teaching about leadership and servanthood. The council comes to its inevitable conclusion in a consultative fashion; there is no one leader imposing anything on anyone, or any need for such imposition. In fact, Luke goes on to say, “Then it seemed good to the apostles and the elders, with the whole church, to choose men from among them and send them to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas.” The decision to send men to Antioch with Paul and Barnabas was not handed down by James, Peter, John or all three; the elders and the whole church all had a voice. On the central issue, though, Peter’s voice, Peter’s teaching, Peter’s authority is decisive.

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The Petrine Fact, Part 3: Peter and the Twelve

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NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“First Simon, who is called Peter” (Matt 10:2).


Teaching of the Twelve icon

With these words St. Matthew begins his enumeration of the Twelve, emphasizing the primacy of Simon Peter among the Twelve. A similar prominence is given to Peter in every enumeration of the Twelve, where Peter is always listed first, followed closely by the next most prominent disciples, John and James (along with Peter’s brother Andrew), with Judas Iscariot always in the last position (cf. Mark 3:16ff, Luke 6:14ff, Acts 1:13ff).

The word “first,” protos, is the same word that Jesus later uses when he says, “Whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first (or “chief”) among you must be your slave; even as the Son of man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matt 20:26-28). (It’s also the same word Paul uses in the passage from 1 Corinthians 15 previously discussed, in which he called himself the “chief” [protos] of sinners.)

This saying, in response to the petition of the sons of Zebedee to sit as Jesus’ right and left in positions of honor, establishes that primacy in the new order that Jesus brings is a very different thing from primacy in the world. For now, though, I am concerned with the mere fact of Peter’s primacy, without losing sight of the reversal of worldly standards that Jesus brings.

A casual perusal of the Gospels and Acts is sufficient to establish Peter’s prominence among the Twelve in early Christian memory. Peter is named far more often than all the rest of the Twelve combined (nearly 200 times). After Peter, the most prominent disciples are John and James, the sons of Zebedee, who with Peter formed an inner circle of Jesus’ closest disciples. John, the most frequently mentioned disciple after Peter, is mentioned fewer than 40 times, not even 1/7th as often as Peter.

We even encounter phrases like “Peter/Simon and those who were with him” (Mark 1:36, Luke 9:32, 8:45) and “Peter and the apostles” (Acts 5:29), subsuming other apostles under Peter, as well as “his disciples and Peter” (Mark 16:7), emphasizing Peter in particular. (St. Paul similarly makes special note of Peter in 1 Corinthians 9:5, referring to “the other apostles and the brothers of the Lord and Cephas”).

Peter’s prominence is not simply a matter of literary shorthand. Both in the Gospels and in Acts Peter is often seen speaking for and taking the initiative among the Twelve, for good and for ill (e.g., Matt. 18:21, Mark 8:29, Luke 12:41, John 6:68-69). Peter expresses the faith of the Twelve when he confesses Jesus as the Christ; he also expresses their ill-fated claim to be ready to die rather than fall away (e.g., “And they all said the same,” Mark 14:31). Peter’s denials, reported in all four Gospels, represent a low point of Peter’s prominence, followed by his prominence in the resurrection accounts previously discussed.

Matthew’s Gospel depicts Jewish interlocutors approaching Peter to question him about Jesus (Matt 17:24); in the same episode, Jesus associates Peter with himself by making provision for their payment of the Temple tax, without involving the rest of the Twelve. It is also in Matthew that Peter shares with Jesus the extraordinary miracle, reported in Matthew, Mark and John, of walking on water (Matt 14:22-23).

Jesus treats Peter as representative of the others. In Gethsemane, though James and John also were asleep, it is Peter that Jesus rebukes (“he came and found them sleeping, and he said to Peter, ‘Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour?'” Mark 14:37).

There is a hint of something similar in Jesus’ rebuke to Peter following Peter’s confession: “But turning and seeing his disciples, he rebuked Peter, and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are not on the side of God, but of men” (Mark 8:33). Just as Peter’s confession articulated the faith of all, so perhaps Peter’s opposition to the foretelling of Jesus’ passion articulated the resistance of all; but it is Peter that Jesus addresses in both cases.

Much of this prominence, even in Jesus’ own interaction with Peter that the Twelve, can be ascribed at least in part to by Peter’s impulsive, headstrong personality, which makes him a natural spokesman, if an uneven one. At the same time, Jesus repeatedly offers clear indications of a unique purpose for Peter — a purpose not defined or limited by Peter’s personal strengths and weaknesses.

We have already seen in Part 2 how the resurrected Christ in John 21 solemnly instated Peter by triple commission as vice shepherd; and we have not yet come to the Petrine locus classicus, Matthew 16. But there is also the pivotal role that Jesus intends for Peter in relation to the Twelve and the apostolic ministry, most clearly attested in a saying in Luke’s Last Supper account.

Significantly, this saying takes place in the context of a familiar motif, a dispute among the disciples about “which of them was to be regarded as the greatest” (Luke 22:24ff). In this passage, the disciples’ quarrel about greatness is connected to the puzzle of which disciple would betray Jesus, and leads directly to Simon Peter’s claim to be ready to go to prison and death.

Jesus’ response here to this issue comes in three parts. First, as he did in response to the request of the sons of Zebedee mentioned above to sit at his right and his left, Jesus is careful to emphasize the reversal of worldly ideas of greatness implied by his own example: “The kings of the Gentiles exercise lordship over them; and those in authority over them are called benefactors. But not so with you; rather let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. For which is the greater, one who sits at table, or one who serves? Is it not the one who sits at table? But I am among you as one who serves.”

Then, very nearly reversing his reversal, Jesus affirms the greatness that indeed awaits the Twelve in the kingdom: “You are those who have continued with me in my trials; and I assign to you, as my Father assigned to me, a kingdom, that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom, and sit on thrones judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” (This is rather more encouraging than what he told the sons of Zebedee about sharing in the cup and the baptism of his sufferings.)

Finally, he concludes with a warning and a promise: a warning and a promise simultaneously directed at all the Twelve and one in particular: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have ye (second person plural, i.e., “all of you”), that he might sift [ye] like wheat, but I have prayed for thee (second person singular, i.e., “you, Simon”), that thy faith may not fail; and when thou hast turned again, strengthen your brethren” (Luke 22:31-32). (This direct affirmation of the role that Peter will play makes an intriguing contrast with Jesus’ demurral to the sons of Zebedee that to sit at his right and his left belongs to those for whom it has been prepared.)

In the context of the dispute as to which was the greatest, this saying to Peter offers three different layers of meaning. First, Jesus stresses that temptation stands at the gate. The disciples are unprepared for what is coming; while they quarrel over who is the greatest, they are easy pickings for the enemy; their minds are dominated by earthly notions of greatness.

Second, in singling out Peter, Jesus may well implicate Peter in particular in the sorry dispute — in part, perhaps, because of Peter’s own awareness, and possibly to some extent his misapprehension, of his own primacy among the Twelve. (There is a note of remonstration in Jesus’ “Simon, Simon,” though it is not impossible that this alludes to Peter’s promises of faithfulness rather than the dispute about which of them was the greatest. Nevertheless, the two issues seem linked here, the bridge being who would betray Jesus.)

But thirdly, Jesus implicitly affirms a particular sort of primacy to Peter: All the Twelve are in line to be sifted, but Jesus’ prayer is for Peter in particular — not just because of what may be his special danger, but also because of the special role Jesus intends for him to play in strengthening his brethren.

This saying does not mean, of course, that Jesus does not pray also for the other apostles (cf. John 17:6-19). Nevertheless, Jesus’ prayer for the Twelve, whom he says are all in line to be sifted, comes to a head or finds a focal point in Peter. It is Peter’s faith that Jesus has prayed will not fail; it is Peter who, when all have fallen away, will turn again and strengthen his brethren.

Had Jesus wanted to affirm a completely egalitarian ideal among the Twelve, with no sort of priority or prominence of any kind, it is difficult to see why he would have expressed himself in this way. Indeed, on an egalitarian theory of apostlehood, Jesus’ words seem almost perversely bound to lead to misunderstanding. It seems, that, rather than denying any sort of primacy among the apostles, he seeks to redefine how primacy will be understood among his followers, while nevertheless definitely attaching a sort of primacy — however unlike the sort of primacy the disciples, not excluding Peter, might have been grasping at — to one apostle in particular: one who, precisely because of his preeminent position among the Twelve, requires Jesus’ individual attention in prayer on behalf of all.

Having reported Jesus’ prayer in Luke 22, Luke goes on in Acts to demonstrate its fulfillment as Peter, following Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, comes into his own in an extraordinary way. Peter’s role in Acts is so prominent that the first half of the book could almost be dubbed “Peter & Friends.” (The second half, of course, would be “The Paul Show,” a point I’ll return to later.)

In Acts 1, Peter initiates the action to select Judas’s replacement and articulates the criteria for apostleship. In Acts 2, on Pentecost, Peter speaks on behalf of the Twelve to the Jewish onlookers, proclaiming the Gospel of the church for the first time and bringing thousands to baptism on the birthday of the church.

When Peter and John are arrested in Acts 4, Peter, “filled with the Holy Spirit,” leads their defense (after which Luke tells us that “Peter and John” both spoke; Acts 4:8-19); when the apostles are arrested again a chapter later, we read, “Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than men'” (Acts 5:29). When members of the company are laying the proceeds of sold property at the apostles’ feet, it is Peter who speaks for the apostles to Ananias and Sapphira, prophetically exposing the lie they tell him (“You have not lied to men, but to God”), for which their lives are forfeit (Acts 4:33-5:11).

In Acts 5 the apostles are miraculously liberated from prison by an angel; then, in Acts 12, James bar-Zebedee (another apostle of Jesus’ inner circle) is seized and put to death by the sword — but Peter, arrested immediately afterward, is again liberated by an angel. (Paul and Silas are also delivered from imprisonment, though technically there is no mention of an angel, “only” an earthquake that opens the doors and unfastens everyone’s fetters.)

Finally and most crucially — along with Peter’s role at Pentecost — it is Peter who receives the vision that opens the door for table-fellowship between Christian Jews and Gentiles; Peter who authorizes the first administrations of baptism to Gentiles (Acts 10), and who defends the acceptance of Gentiles to the “circumcision party” (Acts 11).

On Pentecost, Peter first preached the Gospel to Jews; in Acts 10-11 Peter brings to light the fullness of the Gospel message that in Christ the barrier between Jew and Gentile has been demolished, and that circumcision is no longer a prerequisite to salvation. (These are themes we will revisit in a very different light in Galatians 1-2 and also Acts 15.)

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The Petrine Fact, Part 2: Peter and the Resurrection

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Christ with St. Peter and the Disciples on the Sea of Galilee (Flemish – Lucas Gassel, ca. 1500-1570)

NOTE: This series is a work in progress. See Part 1 updates including bibliography in progress. As I add sources and update past posts I will continue to expand the bibliography.

“He appeared to Kephas, then to the Twelve” (1 Cor 15:5).

Special note is taken of Peter in the first known Christian credal formula, the probably pre-Pauline resurrection tradition of 1 Corinthians 15, which singles him out as the first among the Twelve to witness the resurrected Christ. (On the name Kephas or Cephas, see Part 5.)

Paul emphasizes both the importance and the antiquity of this tradition, which Paul professes to have passed on from those who taught it to him, using the technical terms “received” and “delivered”:

For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received:

that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures,

that he was buried,

that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures,

and that he appeared to Kephas, then to the Twelve” (1 Cor 15:3ff).

Note the parallelism of the lines, with the formulaic double use of “in accordance with the scriptures.” This is confessional language, shaped for rote memorization and exact transmission. The terms “receive” (parelabon) and “deliver” (paredoka) are borrowed from rabbinic usage, describing the faithful transmission of oral tradition (cf. 1 Cor 11:2). The only other time Paul uses these two terms together is in recounting the Eucharistic institution narrative in 1 Corinthians 11:23ff, language that is clearly liturgical and which almost no one would argue originated with Paul himself (see the close parallels to Gospel accounts in Matt 26:26-29, Mark 14:22-25, and Luke 22:13-20).

The special resurrection appearance first to Peter is also attested in Luke, in which we find the eleven bearing witness, “The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon!” (Luke 24:34). An echo of this special attention to Peter can be heard in Mark’s resurrection material, where the angels tell the women to “go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee; there you will see him, as he told you” (Mark 16:7). John’s resurrection material gives Peter a prominence in other ways, as we will see in Part 3.

As Ratzinger points out, Peter’s privilege as first apostolic witness to the resurrection, attested by Paul in the pre-Pauline confession of faith recorded in 1 Corinthians 15, is particularly striking in light of Paul’s emphasis on “the essence of apostleship as witness to the Resurrection of Christ” (Called to Communion, p. 49). Paul’s claim to be an apostle is directly tied to his claim to have seen the risen Christ (“Am I not an apostle? Have I not seen Christ?” 1 Cor 9:1).

See also Acts 1, where Peter himself sets the criteria for Judas’ replacement in the apostolic ministry: “So one of the men who have accompanied us during all the time that the Lord Jesus went in and out among us, beginning from the baptism of John until the day when he was taken up from us — one of these men must become with us a witness to his resurrection.” Witnessing and bearing witness to the resurrected Christ was the essence of apostleship.

Interestingly, while in some places Paul emphatically denies any inferiority to other apostles, in 1 Corinthians 15, in the very passage where he attests the credal tradition that the Lord appeared first to Peter, Paul humbly declares that, after all his other appearances, “Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God” (1 Cor 15:8-9).

If Paul’s late resurrection appearance makes him “untimely born,” “last of all” and “the least of the apostles,” by implication the Lord’s appearance first to Peter makes him in effect the first-born among the apostles — a role given credal or confessional significance in the very early pre-Pauline tradition that Paul preserves. (I am not arguing that it makes him superior to the other apostles, any more than Paul’s “untimely” status correlates with inferiority.)

As mentioned above, John’s resurrection narrative also attests Peter’s unique role in regard to the risen Christ, in two ways.

First, when Peter and the beloved disciple run to the sepulchre, the beloved disciple outruns Peter, arriving at the sepulchre first. Then, however, he waits outside until Peter has arrived and entered, and only then enters himself, at which point he sees and believes (John 20:3-8). John’s Gospel gives the “beloved disciple” a primacy of one sort, seen here in the fact that he outruns Peter, but then Peter’s primacy is also given its place as he waits outside for Peter, and only enters and “believes” following Peter.

Second, when Jesus appears to the Twelve at the Sea of Tiberias, he makes a charcoal fire (the same term used for the fire at which Peter warmed himself on the eve of the crucifixion, when he denied Jesus) and questions Peter thrice about his love, responding each time with the commission to tend/feed Jesus’ sheep/lambs. Peter’s triple declaration of love, and Jesus’ triple commission of Peter as shepherd of his sheep, parallels and cancels Peter’s well-known (attested in all four Gospels) triple denials, solemnly restoring Peter by triple commission to his place of honor.

In this connection it may be significant that Jesus’ first two queries about Peter’s love use the term agape and that he first asks if Peter loves him “more than these”; but Peter determinedly replies with the word phileo, prompting Jesus to ask the third time using phileo (and receiving the same word in Peter’s third reply). (There is room for question here because the elevated Christian meaning of agape was a development in early Christian vocabulary, reflecting the need for a word corresponding to a new conceptual world, and like other words which acquire new meanings it is not always clear in early usage whether the new meaning is fully in place yet.)

If it is significant, then it seems likely that the humiliating experience of the triple denials, of fleeing while the beloved disciple followed, has cured Peter of making grandiose claims about his devotion to Jesus. As seen in the race to the sepulchre, Peter is not necessarily the disciple most driven by love for Jesus; that would be the beloved disciple. Nevertheless, just as it is Peter who first enters the sepulchre, it is to Peter that Jesus gives the solemn threefold commission as vice shepherd under the Good Shepherd.

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The Petrine Fact, Part 1: Introduction

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Note: This series is a work in progress. New material is being added, existing posts are being revised and expanded, and works used are in the process of being referenced. Please refer to the live blog pages for the latest versions.


Saint Peter, 5th or 6th century icon from St. Catherine’s Monastery at Sinai.

In my home library (overflowing, alas, the eight-foot bookshelves lining my home-office walls into double rows on the shelves and spills out into stacks covering the floor) are a couple dozen or so books by Eastern Orthodox writers, at least two of which are dedicated to the exploring the meaning of Peter’s primacy and the primacy of the Bishop of Rome.

Some Protestants are surprised to discover this, because they have the idea that the Eastern Orthodox “deny the primacy” of Peter and/or of Rome; but this is not the case. The nature and applicability of the Petrine and Roman primacies is certainly a subject of controversy, not only between the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, but also to an extent among different schools of Eastern Orthodox thought; but the fact of Peter’s preeminence both in the New Testament and in the tradition of the early Church, as well as the special role of Rome in the early Church, is so clear that there is little question of denying it altogether.

In this series of posts I will briefly explore the New Testament basis for Peter’s preeminence or primacy in the New Testament. I call this “the Petrine fact” because I see the fact of Peter’s preeminence or primacy as an intractable datum to be accounted for, regardless what theology or ecclesiology one subscribes to.

My intent for now is to maintain the following:

  1. Peter’s preeminence and leadership role among the Twelve is seen in many different ways throughout the New Testament evidence, not just in one or two books (possibly indicating the special interest of a particular community), but in every major strand of NT tradition (Pauline, Synoptic as well as Acts, Johannine, and, within the Synoptic tradition, in “triple tradition” [all three Synoptics], “double tradition” [Matthew and Luke], and material unique to Matthew, Mark and Luke).

  2. This primacy is different in kind from the preeminences of other prominent apostles (i.e., James and John on the one hand, Paul on the other). It is not merely a function of, e.g., Peter’s outspoken personality, or some other informal consideration. It is rooted in the choice of Jesus Christ, who indicated his intention for Peter to have a unique foundational role in the new People of God, a representative headship among the apostles, and a uniquely privileged relationship to Jesus himself in the kingdom.

  3. The Petrine fact, and in particular Peter’s role as rock on which the church is built in Matthew 16, has for some time been widely recognized by Evangelical and Eastern Orthodox scholarship. Major challenges remain in unpacking how this Petrine fact is best understood historically and ecclesiologically, what significance it is understood to have for the early church, the church Fathers of the East and West, the Great Schism, and the Protestant Reformation — questions that have been debated for centuries and which have perhaps remain to be fully explored. (At this point I must resist the temptation to get sidetracked with important caveats for my Orthodox and Protestant brethren; bear with me.) But the Petrine fact itself I take to be, as it were, bedrock and ecumenical New Testament data.

In coming posts I will explore some of the biblical evidence regarding the Petrine fact, and perhaps try to offer some light on how it is to be understood.

Added: Bibliography (in progress)

Below is a partial list in progress of sources used and (slowly) referenced in this series. In particular, Joseph Ratzinger’s essay “The Primacy of Peter and the Unity of the Church” provided the template for the overall strategy of this series and for many of the individual insights.

  • Caragounis, Chrys C, Peter and the Rock (W. de Gruyter, 1990).
  • Chamblin, J. Knox, Evangelical Commentary on the Bible: Matthew (Baker, 1989).
  • Clément, Olivier, You Are Peter: An Orthodox Theologian’s Reflection on the Exercise of Papal Primacy (New City Press, 2003).
  • Fitzmyer, Joseph, “Aramaic Kepha’ and Peter’s Name in the New Testament,” To Advance the Gospel (W. B. Eerdmans, 1998 – 2nd ed), pp. 112–120.
  • Kasper, Walter (ed.), The Petrine Ministry: Catholics and Orthodox in Dialogue (Newman Press, 2006).
  • Meyendorff, John (ed.), The Primacy of Peter (St. Vladimir Seminary Press, 1992; first English ed. 1963).
  • Nichols, Aidan, Rome and the Eastern Churches (2nd ed.) (Ignatius Press, 2010).
  • Ratzinger, Joseph, “The Primacy of Peter and the Unity of the Church,” Called to Communion (Ignatius Press, 1996), pp. 112–120.

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