To download the mp3, click here.

Within years of the 1930 Lambeth Conference, where Anglicans became the first Christian group to officially approve the use of contraceptives, contraception came to be viewed as an unquestionable human right even by many conservative Protestants. And it’s understandable from a pragmatic point of view. It can be a difficult issue for pastors to dictate what ought and ought not happen in the bedroom affairs of their parishoners. But lately, I’ve seen a few Reformed pastors thinking about the issue out loud and coming to some negative conclusions about the practice of artificial birth control.

Tim Baly took on the topic in conjunction with RU486 “medical” abortions last year, and more recently Doug Wilson chimed in with a video explaining his thoughts on the subject. Tim Challies has also weighed in with a two-part post on contraception here and here.

What Do Today’s Reformed Pastors Say?

All three come down pretty hard on the birth-control pill because of its abortifacient potential, though Wilson doesn’t mention the pill by name, he does refer to the command against destroying life as prohibiting the use of birth-control methods that work by abortifacient means. For those unfamiliar with the issue, the pill works by making the womb inhospitable to a pregnancy. If conception does take place, it becomes very difficult for the brand new baby to attach to the walls of the uterus and begin its gestation. In essence, the baby, only a few cells big, would starve to death.

There is no solid medical evidence that this does actually happen, but the manufacturers of the pill acknowledge it as a possibility in the instructions that come with the drugs. But even if the chance is remote, Christians have no place putting the lives of their children in jeopardy and I applaud these Reformed pastors for taking a stand against it for that reason.

Though Baly doesn’t weigh in on barrier methods of contraception, like condoms, both Wilson and Challies seem to find such methods acceptable provided the reasons are within the range they consider reasonable. Their criteria tend to center around Scripture’s repeated insistence that children are a blessing and a gift of God, that they are to be desired and treasured, not avoided for personal gain or ease.

Thus, Wilson states that a newly married couple avoiding children so they can make more money are in a problematic situation, while the couple with seven kids who are using contraception to postpone a pregnancy for a short time are doing just fine.

This seems to be a pretty common line in Reformed Christianity. The pill is perhaps to be avoided, but contraception in and of itself is not morally wrong, largely because Scripture does not say it is. Wilson’s video cites a fear of putting undue, Pharisaical burdens on people and Jim Jordan cites the same concern elsewhere.

If contraception other than the pill is considered wrong by modern Reformed theologians, it is not because of the nature of the act itself, but rather the motivations behind it.

What Does the Scripture Say?

Scripture is, of course, notoriously silent on contraception, at least in explicit terms. The go-to passage is the sin of Onan in Genesis 38—the only passage that explicitly mentions contraception. But I, along with many scholars on both sides of the Tiber, find this passage insufficient for building a case against contraception by itself.

Onan’s brother died and he married his brother’s wife according to the law in order to provide her with heirs. But instead of doing that, Onan practiced coitus interruptus and spilled his seed on the ground, thus affording him sexual pleasure and releasing him from the obligation to take care of any children the union might produce. For this, Onan was struck dead by the Lord.

Many argue that Onan’s sin was not spilling his semen per se, but rather the avoidance of his vowed duty to produce heirs for his sister-in-law. This does seem to be the case and for that reason I think the passage is not capable, on its own, of providing Christians with an air-tight ban on contraception. But, fortunately, the passage is not on its own. But more about Onan in a moment.

What Did the Reformers Say?

It should be noted that the Reformers stood united with the rest of the Christian tradition in opposing all forms of contraception. Indeed, as noted above, no Christian group of any kind approved of contraception till the early 20th century.

It is interesting to note that both Calvin and Luther did see enough evidence in Onan’s sin to condemn contraception outright, but I believe that is because both were steeped in the Catholic understanding of natural law.

Calvin had this to say in his commentary on Genesis:

It is a horrible thing to pour out seed besides the intercourse of man and woman. Deliberately avoiding the intercourse, so that the seed drops on the ground, is double horrible. For this means that one quenches the hope of his family and kills the son, which could be expected, before he is born. This wickedness is now as severely as is possible condemned by the Spirit, through Moses, that Onan, as it were, through a violent and untimely birth, tore away the seed of his brother out the womb, and as cruel as shamefully has thrown on the earth. Moreover he thus has, as much as was in his power, tried to destroy a part of the human race. When a woman in some way drives away the seed out the womb, through aids, then this is rightly seen as an unforgivable crime. Onan was guilty of a similar crime. (Calvin’s Commentary on Genesis, vol. 2, part 16)

And Luther had this to say in his commentary on Genesis:

“[T]he exceedingly foul deed of Onan, the basest of wretches . . . is a most disgraceful sin. It is far more atrocious than incest and adultery. We call it unchastity, yes, a sodomitic sin. For Onan goes in to her—that is, he lies with her and copulates—and, when it comes to the point of insemination, spills the semen, lest the woman conceive. Surely at such a time the order of nature established by God in procreation should be followed. Accordingly, it was a most disgraceful crime. . . . Consequently, he deserved to be killed by God. He committed an evil deed. Therefore, God punished him” (Luther’s Commentary on Genesis)

Why the Disconnect?

I believe the disconnect we see between the Reformers and their theological descendants stems from the implications of sola Scriptura that the Reformers didn’t see.

The ecclesial chaos caused by every man being his own arbiter of spiritual truth led, slowly, to the 1930 Lambeth Conference allowing for married couples to use contraception in extreme circumstances. Thus, the ancient teaching of the Church on this subject was breeched by a small exception. As is nearly always the case with such breeches, a small exception was soon opened into the wide corridor we now see where no institution as a whole will decry contraception as an objective evil except the Catholic Church.

The reason the Catholic Church is able to take such a stand is because of its view of Sacred Tradition as another sure source of knowledge of the things of God. If the sin of Onan leaves us unsure on whether or not contraception is forbidden by God, we need not despair or decide that forbidding contraception would be a Pharisaical burden, like Wilson and Jordan. The opening paragraph of the 4th Session of the Council of Trent put it this way:

The sacred and holy, ecumenical, and general Synod of Trent,–lawfully assembled in the Holy Ghost, the Same three legates of the Apostolic Sec presiding therein,–keeping this always in view, that, errors being removed, the purity itself of the Gospel be preserved in the Church; which (Gospel), before promised through the prophets in the holy Scriptures, our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of God, first promulgated with His own mouth, and then commanded to be preached by His Apostles to every creature, as the fountain of all, both saving truth, and moral discipline; and seeing clearly that this truth and discipline are contained in the written books, and the unwritten traditions which, received by the Apostles from the mouth of Christ himself, or from the Apostles themselves, the Holy Ghost dictating, have come down even unto us, transmitted as it were from hand to hand; (the Synod) following the examples of the orthodox Fathers, receives and venerates with an equal affection of piety, and reverence, all the books both of the Old and of the New Testament—seeing that one God is the author of both—as also the said traditions, as well those appertaining to faith as to morals, as having been dictated, either by Christ’s own word of mouth, or by the Holy Ghost, and preserved in the Catholic Church by a continuous succession.

In Sacred Tradition we have a sure guide because the Tradition has its roots in Christ Himself and its protection from error from the promises of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit through the Apostolic Succession of bishops in union with the Roman Pontiff. So when we have an issue like contraception, which the Tradition of the Church has taught us is a moral evil from the time of the Apostles, we can know that this tradition is a reliable guide and not the mere opinion of men.

If we follow the model of sola Scriptura, where every man is his own interpreter and Scripture is the only available means of sure knowledge of morality, it’s only a matter of time until someone decides that it’s easier to give up the fight on contraception. The same thing has happened with a number of the Church’s teachings, such as those on divorce and remarriage, female clergy and homosexuality. Without the sure defense of the Spirit-guided Magesterium of the Catholic Church, compromise is inevitable.

So What’s the Big Deal About Contraception Anyway?

In an era where nearly every other Christian group has approved at least some method of contraception, why does the Catholic Church continue to oppose it so strenuously? The reason is simple: God created the sexual act with the three-fold purposes of procreation, the unifying of the couple and pleasure. To remove any one of these elements from the sexual act is to pervert it into something other than what God intended it to be. To remove the life-giving potential of the sexual act is to change its nature.

What makes a sexual act licit or illicit is whether or not it is performed in accordance with God’s design for sexual activity. Homosexual acts are illicit because God designed sex to be between a man and a woman. Adultery and fornication between a man and a woman are illicit because God intended sex to be between a married man and woman. Rape is illicit because God designed sexual union to be entered into willingly. Contraceptive sex acts are illicit because God designed sex to produce children.

When the procreative aspect of the sexual act is removed, the act takes on a different nature than it had when procreation was a possibility. As Pope John Paul II pointed out in his Theology of the Body talks, the couple engaging in contraceptive sex is lying with their bodies. The body is saying, “I am giving you the gift of my whole self,” but one of the most incredible gifts spouses can give to each other, their reproductive capacity, is being withheld. The act becomes primarily about pleasure and thus becomes inherently selfish. The act that is supposed to reflect the life-giving union of Christ and the Church becomes an act that seeks only its own temporal satisfaction, not the self-sacrifice and self-donation that comes with the possibility of the creation of new life.

This pleasure-centered version of sex is contrary to the nature of the Triune life which, as the Divine Liturgy reminds us, is fundamentally life-giving. If marriage is to be a picture of the life of the Trinity and the relationship of Christ and the Church, we can never say “no” to life and sacrifice, which is precisely what contraceptive sex does.

I’m encouraged by the attention being given to the question of contraception in Reformed circles and I hope the conversation continues. But I say that with the fervent hope that Reformed ministers will heed the words of the Reformers, as well as the voice of the Church throughout history, rather than relying on their own interpretations of Scripture. There is much more to be said on the topic, delving more deeply into Pope John Paul II’s teaching and even the many pragmatic problems with contraception, but I hope this post will serve to start some discussion on why this ancient teaching is so crucial to our Christian life today.

Additional Resources

• Theology of the Body Explained: A Commentary on John Paul II’s “Gospel of the Body”—Christopher West’s excellent compendium of John Paul II’s groundbreaking series of addresses on the topic of human sexuality
• Tabor Life Institute—A ministry dedicated to spreading a Catholic understanding of sexuality
• CD Set of the “Contraception is Not the Answer” Conference—A conference sponsored by the Pro-Life Action League on the problem of contraception

Check out what Augustine has to say on this matter:

Those then who tell us: You are not our brothers, are saying that we are pagans. That is why they want to baptise us again, claiming that we do not have what they can give. Hence their error of denying that we are their brothers. Why then did the prophet tell us: Say to them: You are our brothers? It is because we acknowledge in them that which we do not repeat. By not recognising our baptism, they deny that we are their brothers; on the other hand, when we do not repeat their baptism but acknowledge it to be our own, we are saying to them: You are our brothers.

If they say, “Why do you seek us? What do you want of us?” we should reply: You are our brothers. They may say, “Leave us alone. We have nothing to do with you.” But we have everything to do with you, for we are one in our belief in Christ; and so we should be in one body, under one head.

And so, dear brothers, we entreat you on their behalf, in the name of the very source of our love, by whose milk we are nourished, and whose bread is our strength, in the name of Christ our Lord and his gentle love. For it is time now for us to show them great love and abundant compassion by praying to God for them. May he one day give them a clear mind to repent and to realise that they have nothing now but the sickness of their hatred, and the stronger they think they are, the weaker they become. We entreat you then to pray for them, for they are weak, given to the wisdom of the flesh, to fleshly and carnal things, but yet they are our brothers. They celebrate the same sacraments as we, not indeed with us, but still the same. They respond with the same Amen, not with us, but still the same. And so pour out your hearts for them in prayer to God.

Saint Augustine, Ex Enarratiónibus sancti Augustíni epíscopi in psalmos (Ps 32, 29: CCL 38, 272-273).

Let me stress here that Saint Augustine is NOT advocating a “visible church” contrary to an “invisible church.” The other difference is that Saint Augustine is here discussing the Donatist heresy – those ancient schismatics who in fact possessed all the sacraments validly. Since Martin Luther, John Calvin, et al. formally rejected transubstantiation, Eucharistic sacrifice, and the sacerdotal priesthood, Protestants do not possess a valid Eucharist since they have denied its essence and apostolic succession.

Regardless, Augustine’s words are helpful in that they show that baptism (even in the context of schism) creates a permanent bond of fraternity.

For more writings by Taylor Marshall about Catholicism and Reformed Theology, please visit here.

Portrait of Young John Calvin
Unknown Flemish artist
Espace Ami Lullin of the Bibliothèque de Genève

I once heard a Protestant pastor preach a “Church History” sermon. He began with Christ and the apostles, dashed through the book of Acts, skipped over the Catholic Middle Ages and leaped directly to Wittenberg, 1517. From Luther he hopped to the English revivalist John Wesley, crossed the Atlantic to the American revivals and slid home to his own Church, Birmingham, Alabama, early 1990s. Cheers and singing followed him to the plate. The congregation loved it.

I loved it, too. I grew up in an Evangelical Church in the 1970s immersed in the myth of the Reformation. I was sure that my Church preached the gospel, which we received, unsullied, from the Reformers. After college, I earned a doctorate in Church history so I could flesh out the story and prove to all the poor Catholics that they were in the wrong Church. I never imagined my own founder, the Protestant Reformer John Calvin, would point me to the Catholic faith.

I was raised a Presbyterian, the Church that prides itself on Calvinist origins, but I didn’t care much about denominations. My Church practiced a pared-down, Bible-focused, born-again spirituality shared by most Evangelicals. I went to a Christian college and then a seminary where I found the same attitude. Baptists, Presbyterians, Episcopalians and Charismatics worshiped and studied side-by-side, all committed to the Bible but at odds on how to interpret it. But our differences didn’t bother us. Disagreements over sacraments, Church structures, and authority were less important to us than a personal relationship with Christ and fighting the Catholic Church. This is how we understood our common debt to the Reformation.

When I finished seminary, I moved on to Ph.D. studies in Reformation history. My focus was on John Calvin (1509-1564), the French Reformer who made Geneva, Switzerland into a model Protestant city. I chose Calvin not just because of my Presbyterian background, but because most American Protestants have some relationship to him. The English Puritans, the Pilgrim Fathers, Jonathan Edwards and the “Great Awakening” – all drew on Calvin and then strongly influenced American religion. My college and seminary professors portrayed Calvin as a master theologian, our theologian. I thought that if I could master Calvin, I would really know the faith.

Strangely, mastering Calvin didn’t lead me anywhere I expected. To begin with, I decided that I really didn’t like Calvin. I found him proud, judgmental and unyielding. But more importantly, I discovered that Calvin upset my Evangelical view of history. I had always assumed a perfect continuity between the Early Church, the Reformation and my Church. The more I studied Calvin, however, the more foreign he seemed, the less like Protestants today. This, in turn, caused me to question the whole Evangelical storyline: Early Church – Reformation – Evangelical Christianity, with one seamless thread running straight from one to the other. But what if Evangelicals really weren’t faithful to Calvin and the Reformation? The seamless thread breaks. And if it could break once, between the Reformation and today, why not sooner, between the Early Church and the Reformation? Was I really sure the thread had held even that far?

Calvin shocked me by rejecting key elements of my Evangelical tradition. Born-again spirituality, private interpretation of Scripture, a broad-minded approach to denominations – Calvin opposed them all. I discovered that his concerns were vastly different, more institutional, even more Catholic. Although he rejected the authority of Rome, there were things about the Catholic faith he never thought about leaving. He took for granted that the Church should have an interpretive authority, a sacramental liturgy and a single, unified faith.

These discoveries faced me with important questions. Why should Calvin treat these “Catholic things” with such seriousness? Was he right in thinking them so important? And if so, was he justified in leaving the Catholic Church? What did these discoveries teach me about Protestantism? How could my Church claim Calvin as a founder, and yet stray so far from his views? Was the whole Protestant way of doing theology doomed to confusion and inconsistency?

Understanding the Calvinist Reformation

Calvin was a second-generation Reformer, twenty-six years younger than Martin Luther (1483-1546). This meant that by the time he encountered the Reformation, it had already split into factions. In Calvin’s native France, there was no royal support for Protestantism and no unified leadership. Lawyers, humanists, intellectuals, artisans and craftsman read Luther’s writings, as well as the Scriptures, and adapted whatever they liked.

This variety struck Calvin as a recipe for disaster. He was a lawyer by training, and always hated any kind of social disorder. In 1549, he wrote a short work (Advertissement contre l’astrologie) in which he complained about this Protestant diversity:

Every state [of life] has its own Gospel, which they forge for themselves according to their appetites, so that there is as great a diversity between the Gospel of the court, and the Gospel of the justices and lawyers, and the Gospel of merchants, as there is between coins of different denominations.

I began to grasp the difference between Calvin and his descendants when I discovered his hatred of this theological diversity. Calvin was drawn to Luther’s theology, but he complained about the “crass multitude” and the “vulgar plebs” who turned Luther’s doctrine into an excuse for disorder. He wrote his first major work, The Institutes of the Christian Religion (1536), in part to address this problem.

Calvin got an opportunity to put his plans into action when he moved to Geneva, Switzerland. He first joined the Reformation in Geneva in 1537, when the city had only recently embraced Protestantism. Calvin, who had already begun to write and publish on theology, was unsatisfied with their work. Geneva had abolished the Mass, kicked out the Catholic clergy, and professed loyalty to the Bible, but Calvin wanted to go further. His first request to the city council was to impose a common confession of faith (written by Calvin) and to force all citizens to affirm it.

Calvin’s most important contribution to Geneva was the establishment of the Consistory – a sort of ecclesiastical court- to judge the moral and theological purity of his parishioners. He also persuaded the council to enforce a set of “Ecclesiastical Ordinances” that defined the authority of the Church, stated the religious obligations of the laity, and imposed an official liturgy. Church attendance was mandatory. Contradicting the ministers was outlawed as blasphemy. Calvin’s Institutes would eventually be declared official doctrine.

Calvin’s lifelong goal was to gain the right to excommunicate “unworthy” Church members. The city council finally granted this power in 1555 when French immigration and local scandal tipped the electorate in his favor. Calvin wielded it frequently. According to historian William Monter, one in fifteen citizens was summoned before the Consistory between 1559 and 1569, and up to one in twenty five was actually excommunicated.¹ Calvin used this power to enforce his single vision of Christianity and to punish dissent.

A Calvinist Discovers John Calvin

I studied Calvin for years before the real significance of what I was learning began to sink in. But I finally realized that Calvin, with his passion for order and authority, was fundamentally at odds with the individualist spirit of my Evangelical tradition. Nothing brought this home to me with more clarity than his fight with the former Carmelite monk, Jerome Bolsec.

In 1551, Bolsec, a physician and convert to Protestantism, entered Geneva and attended a lecture on theology. The topic was Calvin’s doctrine of predestination, the teaching that God predetermines the eternal fate of every soul. Bolsec, who believed firmly in “Scripture alone” and “faith alone,” did not like what he heard. He thought it made God into a tyrant. When he stood up to challenge Calvin’s views, he was arrested and imprisoned.

What makes Bolsec’s case interesting is that it quickly evolved into a referendum on Church authority and the interpretation of Scripture. Bolsec, just like most Evangelicals today, argued that he was a Christian, that he had the Holy Spirit and that, therefore, he had as much right as Calvin to interpret the Bible. He promised to recant if Calvin would only prove his doctrine from the Scriptures. But Calvin would have none of it. He ridiculed Bolsec as a trouble maker (Bolsec generated a fair amount of public sympathy), rejected his appeal to Scripture, and called on the council to be harsh. He wrote privately to a friend that he wished Bolsec were “rotting in a ditch.”²

What most Evangelicals today don’t realize is that Calvin never endorsed private or lay interpretation of the Bible. While he rejected Rome’s claim to authority, he made striking claims for his own authority. He taught that the “Reformed” pastors were successors to the prophets and apostles, entrusted with the task of authoritative interpretation of the Scriptures. He insisted that laypeople should suspend judgment on difficult matters and “hold unity with the Church.”³

Calvin took very seriously the obligation of the laity to submit and obey. “Contradicting the ministers” was one of the most common reasons to be called before the Consistory and penalties could be severe. One image in particular sticks in my mind. April, 1546. Pierre Ameaux, a citizen of Geneva, was forced to crawl to the door of the Bishop’s residence, with his head uncovered and a torch in his hand. He begged the forgiveness of God, of the ministers and of the city council. His crime? He contradicted the preaching of Calvin. The council, at Calvin’s urging, had decreed Ameaux’s public humiliation as punishment.

Ameaux was not alone. Throughout the 1540s and 1550s, Geneva’s city council repeatedly outlawed speaking against the ministers or their theology. Furthermore, when Calvin gained the right to excommunicate, he did not hesitate to use it against this “blasphemy.” Evangelicals today, unaccustomed to the use of excommunication, may underestimate the severity of the penalty, but Calvin understood it in the most severe terms. He repeatedly taught that the excommunicated were “estranged from the Church, and thus, from Christ.”⁴

If Calvin’s ideas on Church authority were a surprise to me, his thoughts on the sacraments were shocking. Unlike Evangelicals, who treat the theology of the sacraments as one of the “non-essentials,” Calvin thought they were of the utmost importance. In fact, he taught that a proper understanding of the Eucharist was necessary for salvation. This was the thesis of his very first theological treatise in French (Petit traicté de la Sainte Cène, 1541). Frustrated by Protestant disagreement over the Eucharist, Calvin wrote the text in an attempt to unify the movement around one single doctrine.

Evangelicals are used to finding assurance in their “personal relationship with Christ,” and not through membership in any Church or participation in any ritual. Calvin, however, taught that the Eucharist provides “undoubted assurance of eternal life.”⁵ And while Calvin stopped short of the Catholic, or even the Lutheran, understanding of the Eucharist, he still retained a doctrine of the Real Presence. He taught that the Eucharist provides a “true and substantial partaking of the body and blood of the Lord” and he rejected the notion that communicants receive “the Spirit only, omitting flesh and blood.”⁶.

Calvin understood baptism in much the same way. He never taught the Evangelical doctrine that one is “born again” through personal conversion. Instead, he associated regeneration with baptism and taught that to neglect baptism was to refuse salvation. He also allowed no diversity over the manner of its reception. Anabaptists in Geneva (those who practiced adult baptism) were jailed and forced to repent. Calvin taught that Anabaptists, by refusing the sacrament to their children, had placed themselves outside the faith.

Calvin once persuaded an Anabaptist named Herman to enter the Reformed Church. His description of the event leaves no doubt about the difference between Calvin and the modern Evangelical. Calvin wrote:

Herman has, if I am not mistaken, in good faith returned to the fellowship of the Church. He has confessed that outside the Church there is no salvation, and that the true Church is with us. Therefore, it was defection when he belonged to a sect separated from it.⁷

Evangelicals don’t understand this type of language. They are accustomed to treating “the Church” as a purely spiritual reality, represented across denominations or wherever “true believers” are gathered. This was not Calvin’s view. His was “the true Church,” marked off by infant baptism, outside of which there was no salvation.

Making Sense of Evangelicalism

Studying Calvin raised important questions about my Evangelical identity. How could I reject as unimportant issues that my own founder considered essential? I had blithely and confidently dismissed baptism, Eucharist, and the Church itself as “merely symbolic,” “purely spiritual” or, ultimately, unnecessary. In seminary, too, I found an environment where professors disagreed entirely over these issues and no one cared! With no final court of appeal, we had devolved into a “lowest common denominator” theology.

Church history taught me that this attitude was a recent development. John Calvin had high expectations for the unity and catholicity of the faith, and for the centrality of Church and sacrament. But Calvinism couldn’t deliver it. Outside of Geneva, without the force of the state to impose one version, Calvinism itself splintered into factions. In her book Orthodoxies in Massachusetts: Rereading American Puritanism, historian Janice Knight details how the process unfolded very early in American Calvinism. ⁸

It is not surprising that by the eighteenth century, leading Calvinist Churchmen on both sides of the Atlantic had given up on the quest for complete unity. One new approach was to stress the subjective experience of “new birth” (itself a novel doctrine of Puritan origins) as the only necessary concern. The famous revivalist George Whitefield typified this view, going so far as to insist that Christ did not want agreement in other matters. He said:

It was best to preach the new birth, and the power of godliness, and not to insist so much on the form: for people would never be brought to one mind as to that; nor did Jesus Christ ever intend it.⁹

Since the eighteenth century, Calvinism has devolved more and more into a narrow set of questions about the nature of salvation. Indeed, in most people’s minds the word Calvinism implies only the doctrine of predestination. Calvin himself has become mainly a shadowy symbol, a myth that Evangelicals call upon only to support a spurious claim to historical continuity.

The greatest irony in my historical research was realizing that Evangelicalism, far from being the direct descendant of Calvin, actually represents the failure of Calvinism. Whereas Calvin spent his life in the quest for doctrinal unity, modern Evangelicalism is rooted in the rejection of that quest. Historian Alister McGrath notes that the term “Evangelical,” which has circulated in Christianity for centuries, took on its peculiar modern sense only in the twentieth century, with the founding of the National Association of Evangelicals (1942). This society was formed to allow coordinated public action on the part of disparate groups that agreed on “the new birth,” but disagreed on just about everything else.¹⁰

A Calvinist Discovers Catholicism

I grew up believing that Evangelicalism was “the faith once for all delivered to the saints.” I learned from Protestant Church history that it was hardly older than Whitefield, and certainly not the faith of the Protestant Reformers. What to do? Should I go back to the sixteenth century and become an authentic Calvinist? I already knew that Calvin himself, for all his insistence on unity and authority, had been unable to deliver the goods. His own followers descended into anarchy and individualism.

I realized instead that Calvin was part of the problem. He had insisted on the importance of unity and authority, but had rejected any rational or consistent basis for that authority. He knew that Scripture totally alone, Scripture interpreted by each individual conscience, was a recipe for disaster. But his own claim to authority was perfectly arbitrary. Whenever he was challenged, he simply appealed to his own conscience, or to his subjective experience, but he denied that right to Bolsec and others. As a result, Calvin became proud and censorious, brutal with his enemies, and intolerant of dissent. In all my reading of Calvin, I don’t recall him ever apologizing for a mistake or admitting an error.

It eventually occurred to me that Calvin’s attitude contrasted sharply with what I had found in the greatest Catholic theologians. Many of them were saints, recognized for their heroic charity and humility. Furthermore, I knew from reading them, especially St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Teresa of Avila and St. Francis de Sales, that they denied any personal authority to define doctrine. They deferred willingly, even joyfully, to the authority of Pope and council. They could maintain the biblical ideal of doctrinal unity (1 Corinthians 1:10), without claiming to be the source of that unity.

These saints also challenged the stereotypes about Catholics that I had grown up with. Evangelicals frequently assert that they are the only ones to have “a personal relationship with Christ.” Catholics, with their rituals and institutions, are supposed to be alienated from Christ and Scripture. I found instead men and women who were single-minded in their devotion to Christ and inebriated with His grace.

The Catholic theologian who had the greatest impact on me was undoubtedly St. Augustine of Hippo (354-430). All of my life, I heard the claim that “the Early Church” had been Protestant and Evangelical. My seminary professors and even Calvin and Luther always pointed to St. Augustine as their great Early Church hero. When I finally dug into Augustine, however, I discovered a thorough-going Catholicism. Augustine loved Scripture and spoke profoundly about God’s grace, but he understood these in the fully Catholic sense. Augustine destroyed the final piece of my Evangelical view of history.

In the end, I began to see that everything good about Evangelicalism was already present in the Catholic Church – the warmth and devotion of Evangelical spirituality, the love of Scripture and even, to some extent, the Evangelical tolerance for diversity. Catholicism has always tolerated schools of thought, various theologies and different liturgies. But unlike Evangelicalism, the Catholic Church has a logical and consistent way to distinguish the essential from the non-essential. The Church’s Magisterium, established by Christ (Matthew 16:18; Matthew 28:18-20), has provided that source of unity that Calvin sought to replace.

One of the most satisfying things about my discovery of the Catholic Church is that it fully satisfied my desire for historical rootedness. I began to study history believing in that continuity of faith and trying desperately to find it. Even when I thought I had found it in the Reformation, I still had to contend with the enormous gulf of the Catholic Middle Ages. Now, thanks to what Calvin taught me, there are no more missing links. On November 16, 2003 I finally embraced the faith “once for all delivered to the Saints.” I entered the Catholic Church.

1. “The Consistory of Geneva, 1559-1569,” Bibliothèque d’Humanisme et Renaissance 38 (1976): 467-484.
2. Letter to Madame de Cany, 1552.
3. Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. J. T. McNeill, trans. Ford Lewis Battles. Philadelphia: Westminster Press, 1960: 3.2.3, 4.3.4.
4. Institutes 4.12.9.
5. Institutes 4.17.32.
6. Institutes 4.17.17; 4.17.19.
7. Letters of John Calvin, trans. M. Gilchrist, ed. J.Bonnet, New York: Burt Franklin, 1972, I: 110-111.
8. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1994.
9. Cited in Mark A. Noll, The Rise of Evangelicalism: The Age of Edwards, Whitefield and the Wesleys. Downers Grove: IVP, 2003, 14.
10. Evangelicalism and the Future of Christianity. Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1995, 17-23.

Contents:

I – Introductory Notes
II – There is a Distinction Between the Clergy and the Laity
III – There is a Distinction Between the Orders
IV – The Clergy are Ordained to a Sacrificial Priesthood
V – Ordination is a Sacrament
VI – The Nature of Holy Orders
VII – Conclusion

 Print This Article

I – Introductory Notes

a. The Church’s Mission

Here at Called to Communion, we have presented evidence that Christ founded a visible Church, His bride and mystical Body, and that to deny that the Holy Spirit perpetually protects and guides this Body is to affirm the ecclesiological equivalent of deism.¹ But in our discussion on the nature of the Church, we have spoken little of her mission. Protestants and Catholics alike understand the mission of the Church to be nothing other than the mission of Christ: preaching the gospel for the salvation of souls. But according to Protestant doctrine, justification of souls comes solely by a single act of faith, and faith is an intellectual assent moved by the will. The preaching of God’s Word is thus understood to be the fundamental mission of the Church, and though this does not exclude the sacraments from proper church duty, it relegates the sacraments to a second tier of importance in Protestant theology.

Juan de Juanes – The Last Supper (1560)

The Catholic Church affirms the necessity of preaching the gospel, but she also believes and teaches that the sacraments are at the heart of the Church’s mission, which is the same as Christ’s mission.² Catholics and Protestants agree that souls are saved by grace.³ But how is grace received? Setting aside the questions of operation and efficacy, both Catholics and the Reformed agree that saving grace is signified by the sacraments as well as by the preaching of the Word.⁴ Since nothing is more central to salvation than grace, and nothing is more central to the Church’s operation than salvation, it stands to reason that grace, or rather the sacraments whereby grace is signified, are at the center of the Church’s mission alongside of preaching the gospel.⁵ Below we will examine the nature of the office of the Christian clergy that Christ Himself established to administer those sacraments.

b. Semantic and Etymological Considerations

Holy Orders, according to the Catholic definition, is the sacramental initiation of a man into the clergy of the supernatural society that is the Church.⁶ But there are many potential misunderstandings that need to be addressed before proceeding to discuss Holy Orders. Catholics and Protestants mean different things when we say ‘priesthood’ and when we speak of Church hierarchy in general. So before beginning our discussion, we should clarify what we (Catholics) mean by the terms.

St. Augustine defines ‘order’ as “the distribution which allots things equal and unequal, each to its own place.”⁷ Etymologically, the English word comes from the Latin ‘ordo,’ which means a rank, class, or hierarchy within a social structure. In Roman political usage, it referred to the senatorial body.⁸ Subsequently, ‘ordinatio‘ / ‘ordinare,’ which became ‘ordination’ and ‘ordain’ respectively, meant initiation into that hierarchical class or structure.⁹ The English words ‘ordain’ and ‘order’ come from the same Latin word. We might “ordain” one thing and “order” another, but in some way we’re doing the same thing to both. Now when Catholics speak of “Holy Order,” as opposed to mere “order,” they are referring to the hierarchy of Christ’s Church, namely: the Christian clergy.

There are several other relevant terms to discuss before beginning our study of Holy Orders. The Christian word ‘priest,’ to which we shall refer repeatedly, is potentially a source of much confusion and debate. This is because the modern English word ‘priest’ refers to one who offers sacrifice, whereas ‘presbyteros‘ did not, in itself, have such a reference. Etymologically, the word ‘priest’ comes to us from the Greek πρεσβύτερος (presbyteros); i.e., the word has evolved phonetically.¹⁰ This shows us that the word ‘presbyter’ (its Latinized form) was in use long after the New Testament era. It survived long enough and broadly enough to evolve into the modern English word ‘priest.’ But the Greek word ‘presbyteros‘ didn’t mean “priest;” it simply meant “elder.” There is a separate word, ἱερεύς (hiereus), which meant “priest” as we mean it today. The common English meaning of the word ‘priest’ is one who mediates and offers sacrifice on behalf of the people. The word ‘presbyteros‘ evolved into ‘priest’ only phonetically. In the New Testament and early apostolic period, the word ‘hiereus‘ was never applied to any Christian minister so far as we can tell from the historical evidence. Ministers were always referred to as ‘diakonos‘ (minister), ‘presbyteros‘ (elder), or ‘episkopos‘ (overseer). Around the end of the second century, the term ‘hiereus‘ was applied to the order of the episcopacy, and by the middle of the third century, it was applied to the presbyterate as well.¹¹

It is not precisely the words themselves that we are seeking to understand; rather it is the realities to which those words refer. We are interested in the substance of the idea of the Christian priesthood, not only its linguistic expression, which is merely the sound [or symbol] we use to refer to the idea. The truth of the Christian priesthood is enclosed in a shell of sounds and linguistic nuance, and examining these semantic points is necessary for the purpose of discarding that shell and discovering the meat inside.

To understand the development of language, especially theological language, one needs to understand the concept of terminological technicalization, i.e., the process that occurs when the common usage of a term changes from a non-specialized sense to a more technical and specific sense. The story of the Christian theological triumph is the story of taking the common and “baptizing” it. And the story of Christian terminological development is the story of taking common terminology and investing it with technical theological significance. The word ‘baptism’ itself is an example of this.¹² Another Christian example is the technicalization of the Greek term ‘eucharistia.’ Originally, this term meant “thanksgiving,” but it evolved into a technical reference to the principal liturgical action of the Church. This was sometimes referred to as the “breaking of bread” in the New Testament, but the “breaking of bread” was also commonly used in reference to non-liturgical meals and probably to non-Eucharistic liturgies.¹³ ‘Eucharistia‘ had several meanings other than a specific reference to what we now call the “Eucharist.” Anglican liturgist Gregory Dix estimates that the technicalization of this term spanned a generation.¹⁴ This ‘technicalization of terminology’ is not unique to Christian theology; it is an observable linguistic phenomenon common to the human experience. But in the context of Christianity, it seems to mirror our own theology of baptism and of the principle that grace perfects, rather than destroys, nature.

This brings us to the terms relevant to our present inquiry: ‘presbyteros,’ ‘hiereus,’ and ‘episkopos,’ their Latin equivalents: ‘presbyter,’ ‘sacerdos,’ and ‘episcopus,’ and their English equivalents: ‘presbyter’ (or elder), ‘priest,’ and ‘bishop.’ For the sake of simplicity, we will now refer to the Latin and Greek by the English terminology (understanding that ‘presbyter’ will be used for ‘presbyteros‘ and ‘priest’ used for ‘hiereus‘/’sacerdos‘). The terms ‘presbyter’ and ‘bishop’ were subject, as were many other words, to the technicalization of terminology that we just explained. That is, ‘presbyter’ was not originally a technical reference in the Greek language to a religious minister, much less to a Christian minister. The word developed in technicality through wide and consistent reference to the particular idea of the Christian minister, and thus became a technical reference to the office. The same thing happened with the term ‘bishop.’ This makes it much easier to understand how in their earliest usage (the New Testament and First Clement), the terms appear to be used interchangeably. At that point in time, they were still developing from common references to Christian ministers into technical terms indicating the clear distinction between the offices. To understand the history of the terms ‘presbyter’ and ‘bishop’ or to understand the way in which they were used in isolated cases is not sufficient to understand the concepts. It is also necessary to understand the realities to which those words were referring. As the Dominican Pedro de Soto observed regarding the minor Orders specified by the Council of Trent, “to preserve anything at all, it is not sufficient merely to go on uttering its name, but the reality behind the name must be understood and preserved too.”¹⁵

c. The Theology of Holy Orders Is Founded upon Christ

The foundation for any theological study must be the Rock of Christ, and if our theology is to progress, the Incarnation must ever remain its center.¹⁶ For this reason, if we are to discover the truth behind Holy Orders, both our starting and central focal point must be the Incarnation.

Jesus Christ is the true High Priest of mankind, and He stands at the head of all Christian liturgy and the hierarchy of all things created.¹⁷ His ordinatio to the high priesthood of humanity culminated at His baptism where the Holy Spirit descended like a dove and the Father said “Thou art my beloved Son; with thee I am well pleased.”¹⁸ The Catholic doctrine of Holy Orders begins with and is unhesitatingly committed to the reality of Christ’s true high priesthood. Whatever priesthood Christians have, whether common by baptism or visible and specific by ordination, exists only by participation in the true priesthood which belongs to Jesus Christ the High Priest. The Christian doctrine of Holy Orders must not and cannot undermine the necessity and uniqueness of Christ’s high priesthood.

The Incarnation is a game-changer; nothing remains the same. Through this unsearchable mystery, the mundane is sanctified, and the common is invested with a new and sacred signification. This sanctification of the ordinary can be seen in the institution of the very center of Christian worship, the Eucharist. At the Last Supper, Christ was “investing a universal jewish [sic] custom with a new and peculiar meaning…”¹⁹ The eucharistic [thanksgiving] prayer would have been said everywhere and always by faithful Jews at all meals, but especially at liturgical meals. ²⁰ This prayer had now received a profound significance and, according to Catholic theology, an actual efficacy. The significance of this efficacy invested into such a central and primitive necessity as breaking bread, which is at the heart of Christian worship, is paralleled with the mystery of the Incarnation and the birth of mankind’s true High Priest and King. As the institution of the Eucharist made an efficacious sacrament of ordinary bread and wine, so did the mystery of the Incarnation transform proper worship from didactic ritual into efficacious sacramental liturgy. According to Catholic theology, the signs (sacraments) under the New Covenant fulfill and exceed those under the Old Covenant. If the laying on of hands effected a true ordination under the Levitical priesthood, much more, then, does the laying on of hands effect a true ordination under the New Covenant. If the ministers were priests of God under the Old Covenant, much more are they priests under the New Covenant.

Union with Christ is centrally important to the doctrine of Holy Orders because to achieve it and to lead others to the same is the central aspect of the priestly mission under the New Covenant. The ministers of Christ continue His mission; they are sent to do what He came to do. St. Athanasius says that, “God became man that man might become God.”²¹ If the true High Priest was ordained ultimately for the purpose of calling lost souls to repentance and salvation, and if union with Christ is what it means for a soul to be saved, and if the Church He founded was entrusted with the mission of saving souls, then at the heart of the Church’s missio is the mediation of whatever it takes to achieve that union with Christ.²² Thus, Pseudo-Dionysius says, “Every hierarch, according to his nature, position, and order, is initiated into divine things and divinised, so that he might impart sacred divinisation to those who follow him.”²³

And an ancient Gallican ordination prayer says:

Let us unite in prayer, brethren, that this [ordinand] who is chosen to help bring about your salvation, may, through the clemency of God’s goodness, receive the blessing of the priesthood, and obtain, through the merit of his virtues, the priestly gift of the Holy Spirit so as not to be inferior to his office.²⁴

The New Covenant, along with its new priesthood, ushered in a new era for God’s people. Whereas before Christ wine could no more justify a sinner than could the blood of a man, and no more could bread offer us participation in the life of the Trinity than could a man’s flesh. But now that the true High Priest has been ordained to earthly ministry, His Blood indeed justifies,²⁵ and His Body, bruised for our iniquities,²⁶ offers us eternal life.²⁷ This is the profound effect of the Incarnation, and it is exactly on this foundation that Holy Orders were established to minister the sacraments and to preach the Word of God unto the salvation of mankind.²⁸

II – There is a Distinction Between the Clergy and the Laity

Martin Luther believed that the power to ordain was essentially derived from the Christian congregation of a true Church. As a result, he did not believe that there was any true difference between the clergy and the laity, except in official duties. That is, he believed that all Christians were the same in regard to possessing what is essential to the Church and differed only in respect to “the work that God has given them to do.”²⁹ But the Catholic Church does not teach that her ministers are more holy, more spiritual, or more essentially Christian than the laity.

Now it is true that both the laity and the clergy are the same in regard to possessing what is essential to the Church in that they both have essential roles. However, they do not possess what is essential to the Church in the same way. The clergy possess what is essential to the Church as the visible leaders, which leadership is necessary for a visible Church.³⁰ The laity do not possess this quality that is essential to the Church; rather, they possess the essential quality of being the people of God. That is, clergy and laity are both equally essential to the Church just as sheep and shepherds are both equally essential to a sheep farm. But this essential equality does not undermine the difference between the clergy and laity any more than it undermines the difference between sheep and shepherds.

Furthermore, Luther says that the difference between clergy and laity is not in status but in respect to the work that God has given them to do. As Christians before God, it is true that there is no difference in status between the clergy and laity; both are sinners saved by God’s grace. ³¹ But there is a difference between the clergy and laity in regard to their roles in the Church. Luther’s phrase, “they do not all have the same work to do,” is true but incomplete. The distinction is not only in the work that they do, but in the work that they are capable of doing. No man has the right to act as a priest before God unless that right is given to him by someone who has the authority to grant such a right. But as stated above, no one has that authority naturally because the Church is a supernatural society. To govern and to do the essential work of a supernatural society requires supernatural authorization and supernatural equipping. Holy Orders, as a sacrament, accomplishes exactly this. By conceiving the Church without the sacrament of Holy Orders, the question of one’s right to clerical status becomes merely a question of natural aptitude. Thus the magisterium is handed over to the academia. By contrast, we will show that Jesus Christ did grant the right of clerical status to certain men and did not grant it to others. In the current section, we will argue that denying the distinction between the laity and clergy is a theological error with serious consequences.

a. Natural Hierarchical Order

The act of creation ordered, or we might say, ordained the heavens and the earth into a particular hierarchy. This divine ordination is the pedagogical archetype of nature and the symbol of right theology. Nature is inherently purposeful and instructive. St. Paul tells the Corinthians that nature teaches men not to have long hair, and he tells the Romans that creation teaches men about God’s invisible qualities. ³² The Proverbs also reveal that nature instructs men unto wisdom. ³³ When we look at nature, we look at the handiwork of God. More importantly, we see exactly what God intended us to see, and in exactly the way He wanted us to see it. We do well to learn from what God reveals through nature. Perhaps Thomas Howard said it best:

To the men of old, it did not mean nothing that the sun went down and night came and the moon and the stars appeared and then dawn and the sun and morning again and another day, which would itself wax and then wane into twilight and dusk and night. It did not mean nothing to them that the time of work was under the aegis of the bright sun and that it was the sun that poured life into the seeds that they were planting and that brought out the sweat on their foreheads, and that the time of rest was under the scepter of the silver moon. This was the diurnal exhibition of what was True — that there are a panoply and a rhythm and a cycle, a waxing and a waning, a rising and a setting and then a rising again. And to them it was not for nothing that the king wore a crown of gold and that the lord mayor wore medallions. This was the political exhibition of what was, in fact, True — that there are royalty and authority and hierarchy at the heart of things and that it is possible to see this in lions and eagles and queen bees as well as in the court of the king. . . . The former mind, in a word, read vast significance into everything. Nature and politics and animals and sex — these were all exhibitions in their own way of the way things are. This mind fancied that everything meant everything, and that it all rushed up finally to heaven. We have an idea of royalty, this mind said, which we observe in our politics and which we attribute to lions and eagles, and we have this idea because there is a great King at the top of things, and he has set things thus so that our fancies will be drawn toward his royal Person, and we will recognize the hard realities of which the stuff of our world has been a poor shadow when we stumble into his royal court.³⁴

Howard points out that the ancient mind rightly understood nature itself as exhibiting truths about reality and about God. It was not accidental that God arranged creation into so ordered a hierarchy; this act was meant to show us the way things are and the way things ought to be. Nature should inform our anthropology, our ecclesiology, and above all, our theology.³⁵ This point needs special emphasis for the modern Western mind because the last five hundred years of our history have been riddled with wars and revolutions aimed at a deliberate flattening of the natural order, a systematic rejection of the archetype. St. Augustine was right: order is “the distribution which allots things equal and unequal, each to its own place.” And our recent history is marred with one shameful attempt after another at denying that pedagogical distribution. We can barely bring ourselves to admit that there are “things equal and unequal,” much less that they should be arranged in a certain way. The egalitarian pipe-dream of modernism has at its heart an implicit rejection of this cosmological order that exists for the purpose of teaching men of God’s invisible qualities, the divine nature, and of salvation.³⁶ All of our laws are derived from and ought to teach us of this divine law,³⁷ and if we have kings, they ought to teach us of the true lordship of Jesus Christ. Creation shows us that things are not equal. As St. Paul might say, “doth not even nature itself teach you” that some things are higher than others? Since the mission of the Church, and consequently the hierarchy of the Church, is directly related to teaching men about salvation and about the divine nature, as we argued above, a rejection of this natural order or a distortion of it inevitably leads to the rejection or distorting of Holy Orders.

Our society overwhelmingly designates hierarchy as something negative, something which separates rather than unites. But the symbolism inherent in the cosmos informs us that our society has it backwards! Unity is not achieved by a denial of natural inequality. Instead, it is achieved by properly ordering that inequality. Furthermore, inequality in one respect does not mean inequality in all respects. For example, a man and a child are unequal in stature but equal in dignity as human beings. Because of the fundamental flaws in modern egalitarian philosophy, there is a strong tendency to reject any appearance of hierarchical themes. To deny Holy Orders on the basis of a broad denial of hierarchy is to measure the Bride of Christ by the “standard” of modern egalitarian political theory.

Martin Luther’s early rejection of the distinction between the clergy and the laity can be understood as a “spiritual egalitarianism.” ³⁸ But Martin Luther did not stop at reducing the clergy and laity to equal authority. In fact, he turned ecclesial hierarchy on its head! For Luther the Christian congregation, not the clergy, had the right to exercise Church authority. ³⁹ More explicitly, the clergy do not judge the people, the people judge the clergy. In support of his view, Luther cited several New Testament passages (John 10:4-5, 8; Matthew 7:15; 24:4-5; 1 Thessalonians 5:21).⁴⁰ Luther’s position was not that a minister was individually subject to a layman, but that a minister was ultimately subject to the local congregation. Much like modern democracy, for Luther the Church governors (the clergy) derived their authority from the governed (the laity). According to Luther, as soon as the clergy stopped faithfully preaching the Word of God and therefore stopped serving the laity, they lost their authority. This was because the authority of the clergy was not derived from Christ through Holy Orders, but from a direct calling from God, manifested through the congregation by election.

The problems with Luther’s doctrine are manifold. First, as we discussed above, it rises from the false assumption that inequality is something bad. Since Luther perceived the difference between the clergy and the laity as something negative, and since equality is better than inequality, it seemed to follow that God’s true plan was that the clergy and laity should be equal. But this is false because of the reasons given above, that the proper arrangement of unequal things (order) is a good. ⁴¹ Secondly, it contradicts the New Testament and early Church history because, as we will argue in the next section, Christ Himself commissioned the Apostles and they, not the various congregations, ordained the clergy. Thirdly, it contradicts the visibility and objective identifiability of the Church, which has been argued for in previous articles on Called to Communion. If the local congregation, that is, any group of persons professing to be Christians, has only their collective opinion of the correct interpretation of Scripture by which to identify the Church, then no visible congregation can objectively be identified as the true Church because this collective opinion is inherently and only subjective. ⁴² Finally, Luther’s doctrine on Church hierarchy is false because it presupposes Ecclesial Deism, which concept Bryan Cross explained in a previous article. ⁴³

b. Holy Orders in the New Testament

This brief subsection, while not a complete examination of the New Testament data, will demonstrate that the concept of Holy Orders is consistent with the biblical evidence. Furthermore, we will argue that an ecclesial hierarchy is established in the Scriptures by showing that Jesus gave the Apostles authority, and that the Apostles gave authority to others. We will examine the ordination ritual below in section VI.

The authority invested in the Apostles is made explicit from the beginning. At the selection or designation of the twelve, Jesus gave them authority to do exactly the things that He had been doing: healing the sick and driving out demons. (Mark 3:13-15.) This same terminology is used again when He sent them to preach the Word. (Matthew 10:1, Mark 6:7, Luke 9:1.) It seems then, that this kingdom authority, i.e., the authority to do the essential work of the kingdom of God, is connected with the authority and calling to evangelize. Again, Jesus explicated this unique authority in John 20 when He breathed the Holy Spirit upon them and gave them the authority to forgive sins. (John 20:19-23.) In that same passage, Jesus says He is sending them as the Father sent Him. It becomes clearer that the mission and authority entrusted to the Son by the Father are being handed on to the Apostles when these passages are read in light of the only two times Christ mentions the Church in the gospels. (Matthew 16:18-19, 18:15-18.) In both passages, He gives the Apostles the authority to “bind and loose,” which was a technical term for legislative authority.⁴⁴ St. Paul confirms that he was an Apostle by virtue of his sending, not by mere man, but by Jesus Christ. (Romans 1:5; Galatians 1:1; 1 Timothy 1:1; 2 Timothy 1:11.) The New Testament data culminates with the Jerusalem Council where the Apostles convened to make a binding decision on the entire universal Church. (Acts 15.) These passages show that Christ invested the Apostles with ecclesial authority as the hierarchical leaders of the Church, His Body.

Because our next article will focus on apostolic succession, here we will focus on the authority delegated by the Apostles while they were still living. The New Testament shows that the Apostles, especially Sts. Peter and Paul, established and recognized authoritative leaders in every Church.⁴⁵ That the Apostles believed themselves to possess the power to delegate their authority by establishing Church leaders is shown by the replacement of Judas (Acts 1:15-26) and by the ordination of the seven deacons at Jerusalem (Acts 6:1-6). St. Paul makes the need for hierarchical structure explicit from the beginning, and gives instructions for the selection of bishops and deacons, that they should be blameless, sober, of good character, etc. (1 Timothy 3:1-13.) Further, he understands these appointed leaders as having actual authority, as shown when he exhorts the faithful to obey those who are “over” them. (1 Thessalonians 5:12; 1 Corinthians 16:16.) The author of Hebrews does the same. (Hebrews 13:17.)

These passages show that the Apostles believed themselves to possess authority in the Church and the power to confer that same authority upon others. They also show that in the New Testament, authority was derived either directly from Christ, as in the case of the Apostles, or from ordination by one of the Apostles. There is no indication that authority was derived from the congregation. This is also consistent with the Old Testament model of religious hierarchy. Moses and Aaron, the Levitical priests, the judges, the prophets, and the kings were all either commissioned directly by God or derived their authority by visible succession from someone who was. In short, the biblical model of Church authority is top-down, not bottom-up.

e. Holy Orders in Early Christian Legislation

In the late first century, or earlier by some estimates, St. Clement of Rome writes to the Church at Corinth in response to sedition that had arisen between the laity and the clergy. His epistle makes multiple references to the necessity of obedience to the clergy.⁴⁶ St. Clement, who labored with St. Paul and was ordained by St. Peter, did not believe that the clergy at Corinth derived their authority from the local congregation. ⁴⁷ If he had, he would have believed that it was the congregation’s right to depose such leaders. But he believed just the opposite, saying that “Our sin will not be small if we eject from the episcopate those who blamelessly and holily have offered its sacrifices.”⁴⁸

Some have contended that St. Clement appears to have qualified his statement by adding “those who blamelessly and holily have offered its sacrifices.” Did St. Clement believe that the clergy have the right to govern only so long as those who are being governed agree with what the clergy are teaching and doing? In other words, was St. Clement advocating the bottom-up hierarchy that Martin Luther would later adopt? No, he was not. St. Clement did not believe that the authority of the clergy was derived from the local congregation. But surely there must be some licit method of deposing unfaithful clergy. Where does this power reside? Only those who have the power to grant authority in the first place have the right to revoke it. If a king grants authority to a man, that authority cannot be taken away from him by someone lesser than the king. So according to St. Clement, was it the local congregation that granted the authority to the clergy in the first place? No it wasn’t. He writes in the same passage:

Our Apostles knew through our Lord Jesus Christ that there would be strife for the office of bishop. For this reason, therefore, having received perfect foreknowledge, they appointed those who have already been mentioned, and afterwards added the further provision that, if they should die, other approved men should succeed to their ministry. As for these, then, who were appointed by them, or who were afterwards appointed by other illustrious men with the consent of the whole Church, who have ministered to the flock of Christ without blame, humbly peaceably and with dignity, and who have for many years received the commendations of all, we consider it unjust that they be removed from the ministry.⁴⁹

In the same letter St. Clement said that “the layman is bound by the precepts pertaining to the laity.” He goes on to say, “Let each of us, brethren, ‘in his own order’ with a good conscience not transgressing the prescribed rule of his own office give thanks to God honorably.”⁵⁰ According to St. Clement, the clergy held an office essentially distinct from the laity, and the laity were obligated to submit to their clergy. The authority of the clergy was derived from a bishop in material succession from the Apostles through the consent of the whole Church, not just the local congregation. ⁵¹ It stands to reason, then, that St. Clement could not have considered the local congregation to have authority to depose their clergy. His epistle confirms this by telling the local congregation that they were sinning by attempting to depose their clergy. For St. Clement, nothing short of the authority of a bishop, operating within the consent of the whole Church, was required for deposing a duly ordained minister, because it was from Christ through the Church that those ministers had received their authority.

Some of the earliest Church councils also confirmed the actual distinction between the clergy and the laity. In the early fourth century, the Council of Illiberi [Elvira] said that those who convert to the faith from any heresy are never to be promoted to the “clerical estate.”⁵² The same council also affirms the hierarchical nature of the ecclesial structure saying:

If any deacon ruling the people without a bishop or priest baptizes some, the bishop will have to confirm these by a blessing; but if they should depart the world beforehand, in the faith in which anyone of them has believed, that one can be justified.⁵³

Finally, the council of Nicaea (AD 325) also reveals much about the early Christian doctrine of Holy Orders. For example, canon 5 presents a clear distinction between the laity and the clergy. Canons 6 and 7 discuss jurisdictional powers of the bishops and their due honor. Canon 8 presents clergy who convert to the Catholic Church from schismatic groups as distinct from laity. This confirms that there is a change beyond mere ecclesial recognition that occurs at ordination.⁵⁴ The Church used her full authority at that council to defeat Arius by definitively declaring Trinitarian orthodoxy in the Nicene Creed. At the same time, she confirmed the ancient distinction between the clergy and the laity, and declared that there should never be two bishops in one city, thus confirming monepiscopacy.

f. Conclusion on the Distinction Between the Clergy and Laity

We know of many lay heretics presuming to hold clerical office in the early years of the Church, but the Church fathers consistently regarded their actions as both illicit and invalid.⁵⁵ If the early Church believed that ordination was a power of the local congregation, then it would have been inconsistent to believe that other local congregations (i.e., the heretics) did not also have the power to ordain. This is because there would be no principled reason to say that one local congregation had validly ordained clergy and the other did not since both congregations inherently had the right to ordain whomever they wanted. This again confirms that Luther’s theory of congregational ordination was a departure from the faith of the early Church. As shown in our readings above, the early Church considered Holy Orders essential to the leadership and unity of the Catholic Church.⁵⁶ Therefore, the denial of the fundamental distinction between laity and clergy is an error.

Satan disrupted the hierarchy of man’s powers at the Fall. ⁵⁷ As a result, the natural hierarchical and liturgical relationship between man and God was damaged. What God had ordered, man, by sin, disordered. Every heresy and every schism tend toward repeating the effects of that original sin. They disorder what has been ordered, and in this way they weaken the hierarchy that was ordained by God. No heretical or schismatic doctrine ever made this corruption more explicit than the Protestant denial of Holy Orders.⁵⁸ The kingdom of God, which sojourns this earth under the form of the Church militant, was divinely established by Jesus Christ. And the clerical hierarchy is a principle of unity and authority that cannot be discarded.

III – There is a Distinction Between the Orders

We mentioned above that the earliest references to the clerical offices, particularly with respect to presbyter and bishop, appeared to be ambiguous. From the beginning, whenever the terms ‘bishop,’ ‘presbyter,’ and ‘deacon’ were used in any authoritative capacity, the usage was consistent with episcopal government. In monepiscopal Church government, all bishops are presbyters, but not all presbyters are bishops. That is, the office of bishop includes all functions of the presbyterate, but the presbyters cannot perform all functions of the bishops. ⁵⁹ This fact alone explains much of the apparent interchangeability of terms in the earliest texts. On the other hand, the way in which the Church immediately began to speak of these offices was incompatible with non-episcopal ecclesial governments (i.e., everything but Catholic, Orthodox, or Anglican structures). This technicalization of clerical terminology corresponds with the Church’s developing explication of the divine liturgy as sacrificial worship, which we shall discuss in the next section. Just as sacrifice had always been present in the liturgical worship, though her terminology had not always explicitly corresponded with how she now speaks of herself, likewise, the offices of presbyter and bishop had always been separate, and the terminological distinction would only later become solidified. Once it did, it continued on without ambiguity until rejected by (some of) the early Protestants.

a. Distinction of Office in the Scriptures

The distinction between presbyter and bishop did not arise from a vacuum. By studying the first century Jewish context in which the two offices emerged, we find that the terminological distinctions known to be in place by the second century reflect actual distinctions of office that we would naturally expect to exist from the beginning of the clerical ministry. The first century Jewish hierarchy, which had at its head the Sanhedrin, a council of elders, was one obvious and immediate contextual reference for the Christian clergy. ⁶⁰ Yet this collegial body was not entirely egalitarian; the elders were united and ruled under the authority of the high priest. This structure is reflected in the single bishop surrounded by presbyters in the early Church. Going back even further, Moses was commanded by God to appoint seventy elders and to go up to the Lord together with Aaron and his sons. But only Moses was to approach the Lord.⁶¹ This hierarchical order was deliberately replicated when Jesus, the true High Priest, selected His Apostles, and seventy other disciples.⁶² That is to say, the hierarchy of the Church was built on the existing Jewish paradigm. The ninth century bishop of Hadatha, Isho’dad of Merv, says:

the twelve Apostles . . . received in one hour the great degrees of Apostleship, and of priesthood, and of high-priesthood and of prophecy. But the seventy received the degree of eldership in that hour; and these were also called bishops, as of old elders were called bishops.⁶³

One initial question to ask of the New Testament data is whether or not the Apostles were bishops. This question, or any question about the early bishops, cannot rightly be answered if we limit ourselves to an anachronistic definition of the word ‘bishop.’ ⁶⁴ The Catholic doctrine of episcopal government simply requires that the Apostles possessed episcopal authority, that every successive generation had men with the fullness of the episcopal authority, and that at some point in the first century some of the men ordained by the Apostles, or their successors, did not receive the fullness of that authority.⁶⁵ It does not require that the Apostles were uniformly referred to as “episkopoi” or that each of them were immediately assigned a city in which to establish resident pastorship. Whether the Apostles ought to be called bishops, elders, priests, or simply evangelists, their unique authority as Apostles is certainly inclusive of all those things. And whether or not the Apostles should be referred to as bishops, the next generation did not hesitate to say that the Apostles appointed bishops.⁶⁶ Whatever authority the clergy possessed, it was received from the Apostles. The episcopal ministry, or “bishoprick” as the King James Version translates it, of the Apostles is explicitly stated in Acts 1:20 concerning the replacement of Judas Iscariot.⁶⁷

On the other hand, Peter refers to himself as a “fellow elder” in 1 Peter 5:1. But this apparent interchangeability should not be understood as a denial of any possible distinction within the clergy. This passage is not problematic for the monepiscopal system because the language was not technically specific during that early stage of development. Furthermore, like bishops, whatever elders have is received from the Apostles; thus an Apostle is clearly eligible to be called an elder.

Another important point to consider is that the literal meanings of these as yet non-technical words (‘presbyteros‘ – elder; ‘episkopos‘ – overseer) were naturally interchangeable in regard to the offices in question. That is, given the original literal meaning of the word, elders, or older men, would naturally have been chosen to hold the role of overseers, and overseers would almost exclusively be chosen from among the elders. Thus, in a practical sense, we would expect that all the early bishops would have been elders, in the sense of being elderly, and that all of the early presbyters would have shared in the oversight of ecclesial affairs. In other words, given that the priesthood was divided into two tiers, and given that ‘bishop’ and ‘presbyter’ were not yet technical terms, it would be natural to expect that even members of the second tier could be described as overseeing by virtue of their assistance with oversight of ecclesial affairs. Saying that the second tier of authority (presbyter) exercises oversight does not necessarily deny its subordination to or its distinction from the first tier (bishop). Therefore, if a member of the second tier of the priesthood was ever referred to as an ‘episkopos,’ it would not disprove the apostolic origin of the monepiscopacy.

Another relevant passage is Philippians 1:1, wherein Paul refers to “bishops” in the plural. An anachronistic reading of this passage has caused some to assume that since the term ‘bishop’ presently refers to the sole, residential pastor of a particular church, a reference to bishops in the plural proves that the early churches were led exclusively by collegial groups of bishop/elders. Since the clerical terminology was in a stage of early development, and the literal meanings of the terms in question were naturally interchangeable, this conclusion does not follow. It is entirely possible that in this case “bishops” refers to a group of (what we now call) presbyters along with a bishop (or even multiple bishops). But the opinion of St. John Chrysostom and St. Jerome, in this case, is that since St. Paul referred to multiple bishops, he must have been referring to what we now call presbyters.⁶⁸ This is consistent with monepiscopacy because there could have been some towns that had only presbyters in the first century and whose small Christian communities were under the jurisdiction of a mobile bishop for a short period of time.⁶⁹ Petavius is of the opposite opinion, that at least the majority of those referred to as bishops were (what we now call) bishops.⁷⁰ Both theories are consistent with monepiscopacy as an apostolic institution.⁷¹

The episcopal ministry per se does not contain any reference to isolation, and so it is possible that in the early Church more than one bishop could have established residency in a city. Although it appears to be an established tradition from the time of the Apostles, the ‘one bishop’ rule was not formally defined until the Council of Nicaea.⁷² If there ever was more than one bishop in a city, it would not disprove episcopal government. It would only show that the one-bishop rule was of disciplinary rather than dogmatic nature. ⁷³ Likewise, the episcopal ministry per se does not contain any reference to residency. St. Paul and the other Apostles were mobile and clearly exercised episcopal authority. So neither mobility nor the occasional presence of multiple bishops in a city disproves monepiscopacy.

On the other hand, we know that notwithstanding the possibilities of multiple bishops in a city and mobile bishops, the earliest extra-biblical texts consistently point to an established tradition of a single resident bishop. ⁷⁴ The reference in Philippians 1:1 to “bishops,” therefore, should likely be understood according to the literal meaning “overseers.” As stated above, St. John Chrysostom and St. Jerome both held the opinion that those same “bishops” would have been referred to as presbyters a generation later once the technicalization of the terms was complete. ⁷⁵

There isn’t any good evidence in the New Testament for the egalitarian theory of ecclesial government, but on the other hand, there are two strong pieces of evidence that the monepiscopacy was already present in early form among the first Christian churches. The first is Titus 1:5-9, wherein St. Paul speaks to St. Titus, clearly a bishop, and instructs him to appoint elders in every town. Verses 6 and 7 show that there is already some distinction between the terms ‘elder’ and ‘overseer,’ because St. Paul lists them both. If they were identical in St. Paul’s mind, then the reference in verse 7 would be redundant. This passage also shows that, as the Church has always believed, the fundamental distinction in power between a presbyter and bishop is that only the latter could ordain. The second piece of strong evidence in favor of the first century monepiscopacy is that St. James presided as the bishop of Jerusalem.⁷⁶ Even many scholars who consider the monepsicopacy to be a second century development agree that St. James, whether or not he was referred to as such, presided as the sole residential bishop of the Jerusalem church.⁷⁷

b. The Monepiscopacy in the Early Church

About the year 107 AD, St. Ignatius of Antioch wrote seven letters to various churches stressing obedience to the bishop and the importance of sacramental unity. John Calvin rejected these important epistles as spurious, calling them “nauseating absurdities.”⁷⁸ The scholarly world accepts these epistles today, but as late as the 19th century they were still being rejected by Presbyterian scholars such as W. D. Killen.⁷⁹ Killen claimed that the epistles were later forgeries aimed at giving credibility to the monepiscopacy and papal authority in Rome. But in respect to the Ignatian epistles and what they mean for Christianity, there appears to be a significant change in the Reformed response. In a recent discussion on the subject of monepiscopacy, a Presbyterian remarked that there really wasn’t anything in St. Ignatius with which a Reformed Protestant would take issue. Before scholars returned to the position that the Ignatian epistles are authentic, Protestant [Presbyterian] leaders were calling them nauseating absurdities and papal forgeries. Now that they are widely accepted by scholars as authentic, some Presbyterians claim that the epistles really do not contain anything contrary to Presbyterianism. A consistent approach to the Ignatian epistles will yield the conclusion that the Church government described in Asia Minor in the early second century is inconsistent with Presbyterian polity.

The fact of the matter is that the Ignatian epistles describe a monepiscopal hierarchy firmly in place by the beginning of the second century. For Protestants, this means that “the pure light of Christianity was greatly obscured” within a decade of the death of the last Apostle, and not centuries later as had often been assumed.⁸⁰ The difficulty for non-episcopal Protestants is to explain how the Church universally accepted this (supposed) corruption so quickly and without protest. Some scholars argue that while St. Ignatius proves that monepiscopacy was firmly established in Asia Minor at the beginning of the second century, other locations did not adopt this hierarchy until the middle of the second century. ⁸¹ There is wide consensus among scholars that by the second half of the second century, the entire Christian Church had universally adopted the monepiscopal hierarchy. In the middle of the third century, when Pope St. Stephen I writes to Fabius, bishop of Antioch, he is able to take such a structure for granted, saying, “Therefore did not that famous defender of the Gospel [Novatian] know that there ought to be one bishop in the Catholic Church [of the city of Rome]?”⁸²

One view of episcopal development is that churches were originally established with a presbyterial structure, where individual churches were governed by a body of presbyters, and then a single leader, eventually called ‘bishop’ emerged.⁸³ This view, however, is not based on what we read in the fathers, but on several arguments from silence. St. Ignatius does not mention the bishop of Rome when he writes to the Romans. And Pope St. Clement does not write to the Corinthians in his own name, but in the name of the Church of Rome. It is largely on these two pieces of evidence, and a few other things like them, that some scholars conclude that the Roman episcopacy was a development proceeding from a body of presbyters. Neither St. Clement, St. Ignatius, nor any other ante-Nicene father actually affirms this, and to the contrary, St. Irenaeus explicitly denies it by listing the bishops of Rome all the way back to St. Peter.⁸⁴ Furthermore, as Oswaldo Sobrino rightly points out, modern scholars who deny first century episcopacy consistently make the mistake of defining ‘bishop’ in overly narrow and anachronistic terms.⁸⁵

The bishop is essentially a man who is duly ordained with the fullness of the ministerial (episcopal) office of the Catholic Church. This includes the power to preside over the sacraments, to preach the homily during the liturgy, and most uniquely, to confer Holy Orders upon other men. If there was ever a time when such men were often mobile, or were occasionally found in cities with other such men, or even a time when such men were not consistently referred to as ‘bishops,’ it would not follow that the episcopacy did not exist. It would follow that the episcopacy did not exist in the first century only if there were not any men who fit the above description, i.e., men who had the fullness of the ministerial office including the ability to confer Holy Orders. But there is no evidence of any time when such men did not exist in the Catholic Church.

The modern theory of episcopal development faces other difficulties. The idea of absolute presbyterial equality runs contrary to Jewish and ancient Mediterranean culture, and against nature, as explained above. That something is contrary to Jewish or Mediterranean culture is not, in itself, evidence that it is false. The idea that slavery should be outlawed or that women could provide reliable testimony was also contrary to that culture, but we affirm both of those principles. The point is that an egalitarian government would have been unnatural for this culture. Furthermore, we have no mandate from Christ that Church government should be egalitarian, nor do we have historical evidence that it ever was. Therefore, merely pointing out a lack of clarity regarding clerical terminology (‘bishop’ and ‘presbyter’) falls far short of showing or even implying that the early Church was governed by presbyterial bodies composed of men all having equal authority.

In the New Testament, there is no indication that the disciples shared equally in leadership roles. ⁸⁶ And when Jesus spoke of the heavenly kingdom, His hearers immediately envisioned hierarchy extending below the ultimate throne of God. For example, Sts. John and James requested the highest seats in the kingdom.⁸⁷ The government of the early Church developed in a culture where top-down hierarchy was assumed, and the evidence does not support a starting point of a bottom-up collegial government.

Furthermore, scholars have shown that the ministry of presbyters grew by bishops delegating additional roles to presbyters over the second and third centuries.⁸⁸ The modern theory of episcopal development, therefore, requires the following implausible scenario. Presbyters originally had full authority to preside over the Eucharist, to preach at the liturgy, and to confer Holy Orders. Then it became customary for the governing body of presbyters to elect one of their own as the overseer or ‘bishop.’ It immediately became lawful only for that bishop, or a presbyter whom he delegated, to preside over the Eucharist. Presbyters could no longer preside on their own authority; they needed the authority of the bishop. ⁸⁹ Presbyters even lost their right to preach unless the bishop delegated this duty to them. ⁹⁰ This scenario is implausible on an empirical level because there is no historical record that any presbyter ever ordained another presbyter,⁹¹ or that the bishop’s authority was derived from the presbyters. On the contrary, the early Church universally taught that the presbyters’ authority was delegated from the bishop, and that their ministry was an extension of the bishop’s ministry. The scenario is also implausible because its starting point of presbyterial government would have been an unprecedented innovation given the Jewish hierarchical paradigms, discussed above, that were present when the early Church began. Finally, it is implausible because if presbyterial Church government had actually been the apostolic Tradition, then the monepiscopacy would have been a violent innovation. We know that the monepiscopacy was universally accepted no later than the end of the second century by all Christians everywhere. It is implausible to believe that the entire Church universally accepted such an erroneous innovation in such a short timespan without any protest or objection on the part of the faithful.

One common objection to first century episcopacy is based on the testimony of St. Jerome, who advocates, without ambiguity, the opinion that presbyters and bishops were originally the same office. He says:

This has been said to show that with the ancients presbyters were the same as bishops: but gradually all the responsibility was deferred to a single person, that the thickets of heresies might be rooted out.⁹²

It is clear that St. Jerome understands the episcopacy to be a valid development and that bishops had distinct powers from presbyters, but he attributes this to “custom” and not to an “ordinance of the Lord.”⁹³ How could St. Jerome understand the distinction to be mere “custom” and yet valid and binding?

One possible solution to this problem, which also synthesizes the data well, is this. Christ established a priesthood by sending the Apostles to preach the gospel and to “do this in memory of Me.” The original members of this priesthood all possessed the fullness of the episcopal ministry. That is, according to the modern definition of the term, they were all bishops. Because of the meanings of the words, these men could be, and often were, referred to as either ‘elders’ or ‘overseers’ (‘presbyters’ or ‘bishops’). This explains both the interchangeability of terminology we witness in the first century, and St. Jerome’s assertion that they were originally one office. We must maintain that the division of the priesthood into orders that would eventually be called ‘bishop’ and ‘presbyter’ was intended by Christ, but it is quite plausible that it was the Apostles, by the Holy Spirit, who actually divided the offices. ⁹⁴ In the same way, it was not Christ directly, but the Apostles who established the diaconate.⁹⁵ By the time St. Paul wrote his letter to St. Titus, it appears that the division has already taken place. The Apostles had started ordaining men to a “second-tier” of the priesthood.⁹⁶ These men, who would eventually be referred to as ‘elders,’ had limited authority. But by the end of the first century, bishops were delegating roles to them such as presiding over the Eucharist, baptizing, and all other priestly functions except ordaining other men. This would explain why the Church came to understand the presbyter’s ministry as an extension of the bishop’s ministry and not the other way around. The three-tier hierarchy was of divine origin, not of ecclesial origin.⁹⁷ The terminology would not be universally solidified until the second century, but the distinct orders were there from the beginning, intended by Christ, and actualized by the Holy Spirit through the Apostles.

This model accounts for the available data and is a strong alternative to the modern theory of initial presbyterial government. ⁹⁸ If original presbyterial government means simply that presbyters were sometimes referred to as bishops (and vice versa), it might be a matter of semantics. But if one means that the episcopacy is an innovation by a generation subsequent to the apostolic age and that it rose from a system of collegial leadership, this opinion is not supported by the evidence. It is also possible that St. Jerome did, in fact, believe that the distinction between bishop and presbyter was of ecclesial and not divine origin. In this case, he would simply have been mistaken, although there are good reasons to believe that he understood, as the Catholic Church does, the distinction of orders to be of divine origin.⁹⁹

As the Eastern Orthodox scholar and Metropolitan John D. Zizioulas argues, the unity and identity of the Church was “episcopocentric” from the beginning, meaning that the Church was that body which rallied to her bishop, and the bishop was the chief pastor. Moreover, the bishop was the one who offered Eucharistia.¹⁰⁰ In this way, the founding principle of sacramental unity is apparent. The Church rallies around the bishop and is united by the Eucharist, which he, properly speaking, offers on behalf of the people of God. Thus St. Ignatius of Antioch (AD 107) says:

Take heed, then, to have but one Eucharist. For there is one flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ, and one cup unto unity of His blood, one altar, as there is one bishop, along with the presbytery, and deacons, my fellow-servants, so that whatever you do, you may do it according to God.¹⁰¹

Christian unity in each city initially relied on the rigid structure of a single congregation celebrating a single Eucharist together under one bishop. With the rapid growth of Christianity, the third century pushed that structure to its limits. The fourth century Church saw the beginnings of “presbyterocentric” unity, and the emergence of the parish. Presbyterocentric unity simply refers to the emergence of smaller congregations, each united by a head presbyter. These congregations were still united under the city’s bishop. But in the first two or three centuries, under “episcipocentric unity,” the single bishop was the only principle of unity of the particular Church. That is, each city, generally speaking, had only one Church gathering and it was directly under the bishop. From the beginning, the monepiscopacy was the hierarchical foundation on which the local Church was built, and the one bishop, together with the one Eucharist, was the indispensable source of unity for the local Church.¹⁰²

c. Distinction of Powers in the Growing Church

In the previous section, we showed from authoritative sources that early canonical legislation unequivocally reflects the episcopal hierarchy, but a similar list showing canonical legislation regarding the various powers within Holy Orders would take an entire paper itself.¹⁰³ A quotation from J. Gaudemet, complete with original footnotes, in his paper “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation,” serves as an example adequate for our purposes:

The bishop alone could consecrate a church¹⁰⁴ mingle the charism, reconcile penitents and consecrate virgins.¹⁰⁵ But in the absence of the bishop, priests were permitted to reconcile penitents in articulo mortis, if he had previously authorised them to do so. The Roman Council held about the year 374 made a similar provision.¹⁰⁶ It relates that during the paschal season priests and deacons took part in the reconciliation of penitents in the presence of the bishop. But it is made quite clear that they were acting in the name of the bishop. At other times of the year, by special license, the priest could reconcile penitents in danger of death. The deacon did not possess the same authority. But the text does say that if he had done so but once out of necessity, he would be excused. Preaching was as a rule also reserved to the bishop.¹⁰⁷ Yet from the fourth century it was also undertaken by priests at Alexandria.¹⁰⁸

This quotation illustrates that the bishop possessed the fullness of the Christian ministry from the early centuries of Christianity and that the bishops gradually delegated their powers, or rather a share in their powers, to presbyters. The Church has always taught that these powers, though proper to the episcopacy, are granted to the presbyterate by extension. In fact, every presbyter acts as an extension of the bishop.

IV – The Clergy Are Ordained to a Sacrificial Priesthood

Having shown that the Church has always taught that there is a hierarchical distinction between the clergy and the laity, and that within Orders a hierarchy of powers exists, let us examine the nature of Holy Orders regarding the priesthood. A separate paper will be necessary to discuss the ambiguities and implications of a sacrificial priesthood, but no discussion on Holy Orders could be conducted without handling the question of sacrifice. John Calvin objects to the Catholic concept of priesthood as follows:

Christ ordered dispensers of his gospel and his sacred mysteries to be ordained, not sacrificers to be inaugurated, and his command was to preach the gospel and feed the flock, not to immolate victims.¹⁰⁹

Calvin was far removed from the Fathers on this critical issue. St. Cyprian, whom Calvin generously quotes in regards to the ritual of ordination, refers explicitly to the “sacrifice celebrated by the priest.”¹¹⁰ St. Cyril of Jerusalem would later say:

Then, after the spiritual sacrifice, the bloodless service, is completed, over that sacrifice of propitiation we entreat God for the common peace of the Churches, for the welfare of the world; for kings; for soldiers and allies; for the sick; for the afflicted; and, in a word, for all who stand in need of succour we all pray and offer this sacrifice.¹¹¹

St. Cyprian of Carthage and St. Cyril of Jerusalem both unequivocally affirm the sacrificial nature of the Eucharistic liturgy. The early Church taught that Christian ministers were ordained into a sacrificial priesthood although emphasis on certain aspects of the priesthood varied by location. To conceive of the Eucharistic sacrifice as only a sacrifice of thanksgiving or a purely internal sacrifice would be to remove the words of the early Church from their historical context and would run contrary to explicit statements like the ones above.

a. The Hermeneutic of Continuity as a Historical Principle

The ‘hermeneutic of continuity’ is an important principle for the right study of theology. God’s plan of salvation unfolds over time in redemptive history, and because of this, to study any doctrine as if it emerged from a theological vacuum is a path to inevitable error. We must not do violence to the continuous revelation of God to His people. Without the deuterocanonical books, for example, the nearly seamless transition in broad theological themes from the Old to New Covenant is more difficult to detect. The deuterocanonical books contain and foreshadow many of the teachings of Christ, which teachings in the absence of these books would seem to be novel and even radical re-applications of Judaic theology.¹¹² To remove this portion of divine revelation would be to disrupt the hermeneutic of continuity and leave us interpreting the New Testament as if it emerged from a temporary theological vacuum. That is, we would miss the full context in which the New Testament revelation was delivered.

Something similar happens when the emergence of the Christian hierarchy is considered apart from its historical and theological context. As argued below, when we place the New Testament clerical structure within its first century historical context, and understand it as a fulfillment of its type under the Old Covenant, we find that the Jewish covenantal and familial structures already in place bear striking similarities to the ones that survived into the second and third centuries. The logical conclusion is that the episcopal/sacrificial priesthood is the best explanation of all the available evidence.

The Christian priesthood is not to be understood as a direct continuity of the Levitical priesthood.¹¹³ And the early Christian clergy saw a need to differentiate its identity, in some ways, from the temple cult that was closely associated with the Sadducee party.¹¹⁴ At the same time St. James, who was the first century Bishop of Jerusalem, explicated both his priestly vocation and Levitical inheritance by wearing the priestly garments prescribed in Exodus as he entered the temple to offer prayers “for the forgiveness of the people.”¹¹⁵

J. Schmitt finds evidence of early Christians adopting themes directly influenced by the Essene movement. One profound point of congruity is that the “priestly” community of Khirbet Qumran was governed by priests united under a ‘mebaqqer,’ which translates to ‘overseer,’ or in Greek, ‘episkopos.’¹¹⁶ The sacrificial priesthood united under a single bishop would have stood in no need of an inorganic development in the first century. In fact, the sacrificial priesthood in the context of monepiscopacy is just the sort of thing we should expect to find naturally once we understand its historical context.

b. Geographical Emphasis and Additional Notes on Terminological Development

The Christian community solidified ‘presbyter’ as the technical reference for Christian ministers by the early second century, and the Latin Church continued to use the word for centuries. In the surviving historical evidence, the first usage of the terms ‘hiereus‘ or ‘sacerdos‘ in reference to bishops is found in the late second century. Later, the same terms would be applied to the presbyter by extension. Yet even after these terms were standardized, Christians continued to use the term ‘presbyter.’ The Church at Rome, with her longstanding reputation for conservatism, continued to use the word even as its usage waned in other churches.¹¹⁷ Thus, the term was preserved in living languages until this very day. For when we say the English word ‘priest,’ as explained above, we are only using the modern pronunciation of the old Greek word ‘presbyteros.’ To be sure, the word ‘priest’ means something different than the word ‘presbyteros‘ meant in ancient times, but the reason for the difference is precisely because of the Church’s understanding of what it meant to be a presbyter. That is, ‘priest’–the modern developed form of the term ‘presbyter’–has been invested with sacrificial meaning over the centuries because that is what the presbyter does. He offers sacrifice.

Following Calvin, the first Protestants believed the clerical vocation of preaching the gospel to be the center of the clerical ministry, even to the exclusion of other aspects such as sacrifice. But the early Church did not have so narrow a definition of the clerical ministry, and the definition varied by emphasis from one city to another. Of the Christian hierarchy J. Danielou writes:

At Alexandria its principal function, in the Pauline tradition, seems to have been the ministry of the word; the priest was a doctor and a missionary. This is particularly striking in Origen. At Antioch, the minister was the one who offered the sacrifice, the hiereus — as Ignatius of Antioch demonstrates. Finally, the Judaeo-Christian community at Jerusalem, perhaps influenced by Essene organisation, looked on the minsters as elders (presbuteroi), overseers (episkopoi), whose principal function was government. This view is also found in the Roman Church, whose Judaeo-Christian affinities have been demonstrated by Cullmann.¹¹⁸

These varying emphases by region were not exclusive of one another. For example, the priestly function emphasized at Alexandria was the ministry of the word, but this does not mean that they denied the sacrificial nature of the priesthood. Origen, the famous Alexandrian priest, specifically refered to priests offering sacrifice. ¹¹⁹ Likewise, the emphasis on the sacrificial nature of the priesthood at Antioch did not mean that they denied the importance of preaching the Word. The point here is that the cultures that used ‘presbyter,’ ‘sacerdos,’ ‘episkopos,’ or any other term, used living languages to express these ideas. The terms evolved continually and were nuanced by cultural influence. ‘Presbyter’ was a reference to the same order throughout the Christian world, but it expressed something slightly different when uttered in one community than it did in another. To restate what was said above, our objects of interest are the realities to which these words referred, and not only the words themselves.

c. Christ, the True High Priest

The priesthood of the clergy, just as the common priesthood of believers, is a participation in the priesthood of Christ, the true High Priest of mankind.¹²⁰ J. Lecuyer finds a two-fold ordination of Christ as High Priest: one at the Incarnation, and the other at His baptism.¹²¹ In support of his view, he cites Hebrews 10:5-9:

Consequently, when Christ came into the world, he said, “Sacrifices and offerings thou hast not desired, but a body hast thou prepared for me; in burnt offerings and sin offerings thou hast taken no pleasure. Then I said, ‘Lo, I have come to do thy will, O God,’ as it is written of me in the roll of the book.” When he said above, “Thou hast neither desired nor taken pleasure in sacrifices and offerings and burnt offerings and sin offerings” (these are offered according to the law), then he added, “Lo, I have come to do thy will.” He abolishes the first in order to establish the second.

On the other hand, Tixeront points out that Christ was formally ordained by the commission of God the Father, i.e., He was not the High Priest merely by virtue of the Incarnation. Because He was both God and Man, Christ was a natural mediator between God and man, and a priest is “precisely a mediator.”¹²² By Incarnation, Jesus assumed all the qualifications to become the High Priest. Now every priest is a mediator, but not every mediator is a priest. Jesus was the High Priest of mankind at His birth, not merely because of who He was, but also because of His sending from the Father. ¹²³ This commission from the Father was initially hidden from men. But the commission was formally manifested, that is, publicly revealed to men, at Christ’s baptism by the sign of the Holy Spirit and the words of the Father, “Thou art My beloved Son; with Thee I am well pleased.”¹²⁴ In this sense Christ can be seen as having a second ordination or anointing.

Hebrews is the New Testament book that teaches us of Christ’s High Priesthood, but many have taken its teachings to include an abolishment of the ministerial priesthood. As Christ came to fulfill and not abolish the Law, so too did He come to fulfill and not abolish the priesthood.¹²⁵ But does His high priesthood exclude the possibility of priests under the New Covenant? No, it does not. If Christ’s true high priesthood does not exclude our participation in that same priesthood by baptism, then it does not exclude the ministerial priesthood precisely because it too is a participation in that same priesthood. The only book of the Bible to refer to Christ’s High Priesthood, Hebrews, does not address the question of our priesthood whether properly speaking, as in Holy Orders, or common by baptism.¹²⁶ That is to say, the claim that Christ’s priesthood excludes the possibility of any priesthood under the New Covenant is not made in Hebrews. It is extra-biblical speculation. The only priesthood to which Hebrews refers besides that of Jesus Christ is specifically the priesthood of the Old Covenant. The book shows that Christ’s sacrificial action as true High Priest does away with a need for that priesthood because the sacrifice of that priesthood was a foreshadow of Christ’s true sacrifice. The text does not apply to a priesthood under the New Covenant because the sacrifice of the new priesthood is the same as Christ’s sacrifice. The Church Fathers always believed that the Eucharist was a true sacrifice, and for that reason they referred to the ministers who offered it as ‘priests.’ But if the book of Hebrews logically excluded priests under the New Covenant, then the Church universally misunderstood the book of Hebrews until the first Protestants.

Now St. Paul refers to his own ministry as priestly using the term ‘hierourgeo‘ (Romans 15:16). But if a priest could not exist because Christ is the true priest, then a priestly ministry could not exist because Christ’s is the true priestly ministry. St. Paul’s usage of this term to describe his own ministry shows that he believes himself to be a part of a ministerial priesthood. ¹²⁷ Moreover, when the Apostles used the Greek ‘episkopos‘ to describe a minister ordained to the fullness of the Christian priesthood, they were essentially linking the bishop to the high priesthood of Jesus Christ. This is not apparent to us in modern culture, but it was especially apparent to the Hellenized Jews because the first person to be called ‘episkopos‘ in the Septuagint was Eleazar, the son of Aaron. Thus for the early Christians, ‘episkopos‘ had priestly overtones directly linked to the high priesthood of Jesus Christ. ¹²⁸ As already stated, neither the visible ministerial priesthood nor the common priesthood of all believers are opposed to Christ’s true priesthood because both (ministerial and common) are priesthoods by participation in His priesthood. That is, a ministerial priesthood is not a new priesthood. It is the same, and therefore not opposed to, the true priesthood of Jesus Christ. ¹²⁹

We say that Christ fulfilled the priesthood, but He is not a priest in succession from the Levitical order; He is a priest according to the order of Melchizedek.¹³⁰ The priesthood of Christ, and the clergy by extension, fulfilled and perfected what all of the Old Testament priestly types had lacked. In ancient Mediterranean culture, we see that kings, like Melchizedek, assumed the role of high priest. In the age of the patriarchs, priesthood was a birthright of the firstborn, and also the right of the head of the family. Job, as the head of a large family, performed priestly duties, as did Noah. Later, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob would all offer sacrifices as priests. And Jethro, Moses’s father-in-law, was the priest of Midian.¹³¹ Then under the Mosaic covenant, the Levitical priesthood was established on the basis of lineage. Yet, the royal priesthood was an on-going theme; we see that King David offered sacrifice on behalf of the people.¹³² The priesthood of Christ is a fulfillment and a perfection of all of these priestly types, but most directly, that of Melchizedek.

d. The Ordination of the Apostles

This section is not intended to be a commentary or reaction to what has been officially taught by the Church regarding the ordination of the Apostles, but rather an examination of four key biblical passages to serve as a backdrop for our continued study on Holy Orders.¹³³ We cannot understand the priesthood of the Apostles without first understanding Christ’s priesthood, and we cannot understand general Christian priesthood without first understanding the priesthood of the Apostles. To what end and in what manner were the Apostles ordained, then, is our present question. The first relevant passage is found in Mark’s gospel:

Jesus went up on a mountainside and called to him those he wanted, and they came to him. He appointed twelve–designating them Apostles–that they might be with him and that he might send them out to preach and to have authority to drive out demons.¹³⁴

This passage is clearly a parallel to Exodus 24, which we cited earlier, where we see a three-tiered order of priests, with Moses at the top as the high priest, then Aaron and his sons, and then the seventy elders. It is no coincidence that Jesus ascends a mountain in prayer as He establishes the priesthood of the New Covenant. If there is a new priesthood, there must be a new law,¹³⁵ and if the old law is fulfilled,¹³⁶ then the old priesthood must be fulfilled.¹³⁷ The Apostles are given authority to do the very same thing that Christ had been doing: preaching the gospel and waging war against the kingdom of Satan.¹³⁸ That is, the Apostles were ordained for the express purpose of continuing Christ’s mission. It is clear, therefore, that the mission of the Church is nothing but Christ’s mission, just as the priesthood of the clergy is nothing but a participation in His priesthood.¹³⁹

The next relevant passage is the Last Supper, in which Jesus commands them to “do this in memory of Me,”¹⁴⁰ i.e., continue to commemorate (make ἀνάμνησις of) my death. The Church has always read this passage as an ordination of the Apostles, a commissioning of the Apostles to offer the sacrifice of eucharistia. In continuity with what we have just stated about the Apostles carrying on His work, it is especially notable that He then says, “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.”¹⁴¹

The mission of the Church, like that of Christ, is to heal the sick.¹⁴² And as St. Ignatius said, the Eucharist is the “medicine of immortality.”¹⁴³ It is supremely fitting that the priesthood should be ordained in this manner, to carry out the task of administering the sacrament of the Eucharist to the spiritually sick.

Thirdly, the fathers have consistently read the breathing of the Holy Spirit in John 20 as an apostolic ordination.¹⁴⁴ This passage contains a three-fold action. Verse 21: He sent them not in a unique way, but “as the Father sent Me.” The theme of the Apostles carrying on the very mission of Christ is reiterated. Verse 22: He breathed the Holy Spirit on them. This signified that actual grace was conferred, thus making it a sacrament, which we will discuss below. All of the ordination prayers from antiquity until today use this same formula, “receive the Holy Spirit.”¹⁴⁵ Verse 23: Jesus gave the Apostles the power to forgive sins. Again, He invested the Apostles with the authority and mission of doing exactly what He Himself had been sent to do. St. John Chrysostom says that He gave them:

a certain power and spiritual grace . . . not to raise the dead or perform miracles, but to remit sins. For there are various spiritual gifts (charismata). That is why the evangelist adds: ‘whose sins ye shall forgive, they are forgiven’, thus indicating the kind of power Christ was giving them. It was only after forty days that they received the power of miracles.¹⁴⁶

Jesus commissions the Apostles as the heads of the Church and in this way gives them the authority to administrate and perform the fundamental action of the Church: saving souls. Forgiveness, obviously, lies at the very heart of this mission. To understand what Christ intended for His Church, we should look to His own words. In the gospels, Jesus only mentioned the “Church” twice. In both of those instances, this same connection of earthly and heavenly authority is present. He gives the unique authority of “binding and loosing” to the twelve Apostles.¹⁴⁷ The term “binding and loosing” is clearly related to the authorization to forgive sins. This is a technical legislative term which was known to have been used in connection with the ecclesial powers of the Sanhedrin for including or excluding members from communion.¹⁴⁸ This is further confirmation of the sacramental and authoritative nature of the Christian priesthood.

Finally, the seal of ordination is definitively conferred upon the Apostles at Pentecost.¹⁴⁹ The fathers saw Pentecost as the anti-Babel. Whereas the people of earth were scattered and divided into nations and tongues at Babel, they were re-gathered into one people at Pentecost. The life of Christ, which is the very unity of the Church, was poured out through the Holy Spirit and received as flaming tongues by the Apostles on that glorious day.

Now each of these four ordinations emphasize a different aspect of the apostolic mission. The first calling of the Apostles and sending them out two by two emphasized preaching a call to repentance, exorcism, and healing the sick. The Last Supper signifies the commission to offer the sacrament of the Eucharist. The appearance of Christ to the Apostles in John 20 signifies the ecclesial authority of the Apostles and the authority to forgive sins.¹⁵⁰ At Pentecost, the emphasis is clearly on the Word, hence the sign of flaming tongues.

Pentecost is the birth of the Church, the mystical body of Christ, outside of which there is no salvation. Those who heard St. Peter’s preaching at Pentecost were not initiated into that body by merely believing the gospel message, although faith was necessary. When they asked, Peter explained that to be initiated into the body it was necessary to “repent and be baptized.”¹⁵¹ Thus, we see the need for a convergence of all aspects of the priestly vocation. Preaching the Word is essential, but the mission of the Church is not limited to the spoken or written Word. It is inclusive of sacramental action. It was through word and sacrament that the Church was born as the new Israel. Earlier we saw that Christ had ascended a mountain together with the priests of the new law to establish the New Covenant. St. John Chrysostom observed that Pentecost was the day that the new priesthood descended that mountain, and that the Apostles “did not come down from the mountain carrying, like Moses, tablets of stone in their hands; but they came down carrying the Holy Spirit in their hearts… having become by his grace a living law, a living book.”¹⁵² Likewise, Isho’dad of Merv confirms that the sign of tongues was given “to show that they were treasurers and guardians of the Spirit, and interpreters and organs of God the Word, as the tongue is to the mind and the sense.”¹⁵³

Not only did Pentecost more clearly reveal the apostolic commission to preach the gospel, but also the right to preach it, and the authority to interpret it. The gospel was thus entrusted to the Church, and the Apostles received power by the Holy Spirit to deliver that gospel faithfully through spoken and written word. Pentecost shows that the mission to expound the Scriptures, by preaching the Word, was integral to the apostolic office and thus integral to the episcopal office. The Christian priesthood, in this manner, was foreshadowed in part by the Teachers of the Law, but more properly by the royal priesthood. The new law accompanied a new priesthood, and Pentecost was a sign of both realities.¹⁵⁴

As we mentioned, there is a strong tendency, especially in the the late Fathers through the medieval theologians, to associate the John 20 passage with the power to administer the sacraments. This is true particularly with the power to forgive sins, but also with the other powers unique to the apostolic office. The commission, power, and authority to administer the other sacraments proceed directly from this gift of the breathing of the Holy Spirit. Christ had His power and authority by virtue of His ordination of the first order, the Incarnation, and His second ‘ordination’ at baptism was the public manifestation of His commission to go into the world and preach the gospel. Christ came to heal the sick and cast out demons, but this aspect of His ministry is bound specifically with who He is. That is, His power and authority were present from the original ordination of the Incarnation. But why does He come? He tells the disciples explicitly that He came to “preach the Word.”¹⁵⁵ This is exactly what He did after His ‘second’ ordination at baptism.¹⁵⁶ Likewise, the Apostles received that secondary commission (ordination) at Pentecost, demonstrated by the sign of tongues, and immediately went out to preach the gospel.¹⁵⁷ In terms of ordination, what baptism was to Christ, Pentecost was to the Apostles. Both of these events were sealed by the sign of the Holy Spirit.¹⁵⁸ St. John the Baptist foretold this saying, “I baptize you with water, but He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”¹⁵⁹

e. Proof of a Sacrificial Priesthood

The vocabulary of the Christian Church has developed over the generations with ‘presbyter’ and ‘bishop;’ it was no different with sacrificial language. The universality of terminological agreement was solidified first with the ‘presbyter’/'bishop’ distinction, and next with the sacrificial language. Interestingly, it was only after these two concepts were universally understood that the Church finally solidified her Trinitarian language. That is, the Church spoke consistently of the clergy and of the sacrifice of the mass before she could speak as we do today about the Trinity.¹⁶⁰

Over the centuries, the word ‘presbyter’ was invested with sacrificial meaning by virtue of the action that presbyters performed, namely the sacrifice of the Eucharist. Eventually the word itself evolved into the English word ‘priest.’ So whatever investment we have in that English word is actually derived from the meanings invested into the word ‘presbyter’ by the Church. Furthermore, it is true that the original meaning of the word was “elder,” but even in the New Testament period this word was already being invested with priestly significance. For example, we see presbyters acting as priests in the New Testament. Revelation 5:8 has presbyters (elders) offering up the prayers of the saints, and St. Paul describes his duty as “priestly” (hierourgeo) in Romans 15:16.

If the Church fell into error regarding the sacrificial priesthood, as Protestants claim, it would be an enormous error. The immediate and universal acceptance of the sacrificial priesthood without contention or debate is solid evidence that it is not an error but belongs to the Apostolic Tradition. The early Church Fathers consistently bear witness to the sacrificial nature of the priesthood.¹⁶¹ The Didache, one of the earliest Christian texts outside of the New Testament, says:

And on the Lord’s own day gather yourselves together and break bread and give thanks, first confessing your transgressions, that your sacrifice may be pure. And let no man, having his dispute with his fellow, join your assembly until they have been reconciled, that your sacrifice may not be defiled; for this sacrifice it is that was spoken of by the Lord; {In every place and at every time offer Me a pure sacrifice; for I am a great king, saith the Lord and My name is wonderful among the nations.}¹⁶²

St. Clement of Rome writes in the first century:

Our sin will not be small if we eject from the episcopate those who blamelessly and holily have offered its Sacrifices [προσενεγκόντας].¹⁶³

St. Justin Martyr writes around the middle of the second century:

God speaks through Malachias, one of the twelve, [minor prophets] as follows: ‘I have no pleasure in you, says the Lord; and I will not accept your sacrifices from your hands; for from the rising of the sun until its setting, my name has been glorified among the gentiles; and in every place incense is offered to my name, and a clean offering: for great is my name among the gentiles, says the Lord; but you profane it.’¹⁶⁴ It is of the sacrifices offered to Him in every place by us, the gentiles, that is, of the Bread of the Eucharist and likewise of the cup of the Eucharist, that He speaks at that time; and He says that we glorify His name, while you profane it. ¹⁶⁵

So we can see the concept present from the earliest writings of the Church. But as always, the terminology and doctrine (teaching) would take some time to gain universal consistency. St. Cyprian of Carthage in the middle of the third century would explicitly speak of the sacrifice. He records the following miraculous occurrence:

And another woman, when she tried with unworthy hands to open her box, in which was the holy (body) of the Lord, was deterred by fire rising from it from daring to touch it. And when one, who himself was defiled, dared with the rest to receive secretly a part of the sacrifice celebrated by the priest; he could not eat nor handle the holy of the Lord, but found in his hands when opened that he had a cinder.¹⁶⁶

St. Augustine mentions the Eucharistic sacrifice without argument:

he asked our presbyters, during my absence, that one of them would go with him and banish the spirits by his prayers. One went, offered there the sacrifice of the body of Christ, praying with all his might that that vexation might cease.¹⁶⁷

St. John Chrysostom compares the priest’s sacrifice at the altar to the prophetic and priestly prayer of Elijah on Mount Carmel:

The priest stands there to cause not fire, but the Holy Spirit, to descend. He prays at length, not so that fire falling from on high may consume the offerings, but that grace, descending on the Host, may reach men’s souls and make them brighter than silver that is tried by fire.¹⁶⁸

f. Some Objections to a Sacrificial Priesthood

According to John Calvin, Christ’s High Priesthood is exclusive of any true priesthood among men:

He once offered a victim of eternal expiation and reconciliation, and now also having entered the sanctuary of heaven, he intercedes for us. In him we all are priests, but to offer praise and thanksgiving, in fine, ourselves, and all that is ours to God.¹⁶⁹

Yet St. Augustine said, commenting on Revelation 20:6:

This is spoken not only of bishops and presbyters, who are now properly called priests in the Church; but just as we call all (Christians) christs because of the mystical chrism, so are all priests, for they are members of the one Priest.¹⁷⁰

With St. Augustine, we affirm that in contradistinction to the universal priesthood of all believers, bishops and presbyters are properly called priests, or at least priests in a different sense than are laypersons. That is, a universal priesthood by baptism in no way excludes a visible priesthood, and Christians being ‘christs’ does not exclude the existence of One who is the Christ, namely Jesus of Nazareth.

Some have objected either that the term ‘sacrifice’ was always used symbolically, or that it was merely spoken of as an offering of thanks and never propitiatory. But the sacrifice referred to is the sacrifice of the Eucharist, and the Church has never believed that the Eucharistic sacrifice was a mere recollection of a past event.¹⁷¹ Additionally, Harnack’s work indicates that the apprehension of the Eucharist as a “symbol” in no way implies that it is not the real thing.¹⁷² But the sacrifice spoken of is consistently and explicitly linked to the Eucharist. That ‘eucharistia‘ meant “thanksgiving” is important, but “thanksgiving” is not incompatible with propitiation. The Fathers regularly spoke of the Eucharist as conferring grace¹⁷³ and effecting salvation¹⁷⁴. But above all, the Fathers always linked the Eucharist to the propitiatory sacrifice of Calvary. They spoke of it not as a new sacrifice, but as the non-bloody re-presentation of the same sacrifice.¹⁷⁵ St. Ambrose of Milan, the tutor of St. Augustine, said:

We saw the Prince of Priests coming to us, we saw and heard Him offering His blood for us. We follow inasmuch as we are able, being priests; and we offer the sacrifice on behalf of the people. And even if we are of but little merit, still, in the sacrifice, we are honorable. For even if Christ is not now seen as the one who offers the sacrifice, nevertheless it is He Himself that is offered in sacrifice here on earth when the Body of Christ is offered. Indeed, to offer Himself He is made visible in us, He whose words make holy the sacrifice that is offered.¹⁷⁶

Therefore, since the priestly sacrifice is the Eucharist itself, and the Eucharist is the same sacrifice of Christ, it follows that the sacrifice spoken of by the fathers is the propitiatory sacrifice of Christ. Now the Eucharist, as propitiation, does not in any way make Christ’s sacrifice insufficient, nor does it re-sacrifice Christ. This is because the Eucharist is not a new sacrifice, but the same sacrifice of Calvary. St. Ambrose confirms this above by showing that Christ is offered in the holy sacrifice of the Eucharist. St. Cyril of Jerusalem explicitly referred to the Eucharistic sacrifice as propitiatory.¹⁷⁷ Furthermore, the early Fathers understood the Eucharist as the fulfillment, not abolishment, of its Old Covenant type. If the old sacrifice, which was only a type, was understood as propitiatory, how much more the new and perfect sacrifice? Thus Chrysostom says:

In ancient times, because men were very imperfect, God did not scorn to receive the blood which they were offering . . . to draw them away from those idols; and this very thing again was because of his indescribable, tender affection. But now he has transferred the priestly action to what is most awesome and magnificent. He has changed the sacrifice itself, and instead of the butchering of dumb beasts, he commands the offering up of himself. ¹⁷⁸

St. John Chrysostom explains that the imperfect sacrifices in the Old Covenant were didactic rituals. But God did not abolish sacrifice under the New Covenant; He provided the perfect sacrifice to accomplish what those imperfect rituals had foreshadowed. We are commanded to offer up that same sacrifice, and that is precisely what the priest does by celebrating the Eucharist.

At the same time, it is true that there are priestly sacrifices in other senses. Origen says that proclaiming the gospel is ‘priestly work.’ ¹⁷⁹ He also says:

When you see that the priests and the levites are no longer handling the blood of rams and bulls, but the Word of God by the grace of the Holy Spirit, then you can say that Jesus has taken the place of Moses.¹⁸⁰

Yet what he says fits with the Eucharist as a propitiatory sacrifice. He also says:

The Apostles, and those who have become like Apostles, being priests according to the Great High Priest and having received knowledge of the service of God, know under the Spirit’s teaching for which sins, and when, and how they ought to offer sacrifices, and recognize for which they ought not to do so. ¹⁸¹

St. Cyprian of Carthage says:

If Christ Jesus, our Lord and God, is himself the high priest of God the Father; and if he offered himself as a sacrifice to the Father; and if he commanded that this be done in commemoration of himself, then certainly the priest, who imitates that which Christ did, truly functions in place of Christ.¹⁸²

St. John Chrysostom says:

Reverence, therefore, reverence this table, of which we are all communicants! Christ, slain for us, the sacrificial victim who is placed thereon!¹⁸³

One final objection worth mentioning is that in the New Testament the Greek term ‘hiereus‘ is never used for a Christian minister. The objector reasons that if God had intended us to understand presbyters and bishops as belonging to a visible sacrificial priesthood, then the term would have been used in the New Testament. According to this objection, if the Catholic doctrine of the sacrificial priesthood is correct, then we should expect to find the New Testament using this term at least once to refer to Christian ministers. But this is an argument from silence and it presupposes solo scriptura. ¹⁸⁴ Moreover the objection can be independently refuted by considering three counter points. First, while the term is not used specifically and directly to refer to a priest, there are passages showing presbyters carrying out priestly duties,¹⁸⁵ and the same word in a different form is used to describe Paul’s own priestly ministry ¹⁸⁶. Secondly, while Hebrews is the only book among those of the New Testament to refer to Christ as the High Priest, this theme can be detected in other canonical books. It does not follow that because a particular book does not mention Christ as a priest that that book is denying His priesthood. Neither can we conclude that the New Testament, taken as a whole, is denying the sacrificial priesthood by only referring to it indirectly. Finally, in first century Judaism the word ‘hiereus‘ referred specifically to the Levitical priesthood that was still in active duty while the temple stood. Though the Christian clergy explicated their priestly heritage in various ways, they also needed to differentiate themselves for practical and theological reasons. The antitype is not often referred to with the same word as the type; at least something is different! Aside from the Jewish priesthood, ‘hiereus‘ also referred to the pagan priesthood, and the earliest Christians shyed away from using this term in order to distance themselves from the pagans.

g. Conclusion on the Clergy’s Ordination to the Sacrificial Priesthood

To summarize the development of the priestly terminology: by the end of the second century, the term ‘hiereus‘ and its Latin equivalent ‘sacerdos‘ were being used to refer specifically to the bishop. The term was understood from the beginning to apply to presbyters by participation in the episcopal ministry, but never to deacons, because they did not offer sacrifice. From the middle of the third century, the term would be applied directly to presbyters as well. Until the sixth century, the terms were still generally reserved for the bishop, but that gradually began to change. By the eleventh century, the usage had reversed so that the terms for ‘priest’ were generally applied to the presbyter and not the bishop. The bishop was still understood to be a priest, but was not often referred to as such. ¹⁸⁷ This explains why the old word ‘presbyter,’ which has become the English word ‘priest,’ is the word which was invested with the meaning of hiereus/sacerdos and not the word ‘bishop.’

We have stopped well short of a complete study on the sacrificial priesthood, but to understand Holy Orders, it is important to understand that the clergy are ordained to a sacrificial ministry. We have shown that this concept is consistent with the New Testament data, and is confirmed by the fathers. We have also addressed various Protestant objections to the sacrificial priesthood.

V – Ordination is a Sacrament

a. Protestant Objections

We have provided evidence that Holy Orders is consistent with natural hierarchy, is a true fulfillment of the Old Testament priestly types through participation in Christ, and is sacrificial in nature. But none of these, individually or together, necessarily mean that Holy Orders is a sacrament. If it is a sacrament, however, then the Protestants were in serious error for rejecting an ordinance of the Lord. John Calvin, believing there to be only two sacraments, quotes St. Augustine in support of his view:

“After the resurrection of our Lord, our Lord himself, and apostolic discipline, appointed, instead of many, a few signs, and these most easy of performance, most august in meaning, most chaste in practice; such is baptism and the celebration of the body and blood of the Lord.” Why does he here make no mention of the sacred number, I mean seven? Is it probable that he would have omitted it if it had then been established in the Church, especially seeing he is otherwise more curious in observing numbers than might be necessary?¹⁸⁸

To the contrary, St. Augustine says elsewhere:

our Lord Jesus Christ has appointed to us a “light yoke” and an “easy burden,” as He declares in the Gospel: in accordance with which He has bound His people under the new dispensation together in fellowship by sacraments, which are in number very few, in observance most easy, and in significance most excellent, as baptism solemnized in the name of the Trinity, the communion of His body and blood, and such other things as are prescribed in the canonical Scriptures, with the exception of those enactments which were a yoke of bondage to God’s ancient people, suited to their state of heart and to the times of the prophets, and which are found in the five books of Moses. As to those other things which we hold on the authority, not of Scripture, but of tradition, and which are observed throughout the whole world, it may be understood that they are held as approved and instituted either by the Apostles themselves, or by plenary Councils, whose authority in the Church is most useful, e.g., the annual commemoration, by special solemnities, of the Lord’s passion, resurrection, and ascension, and of the descent of the Holy Spirit from heaven, and whatever else is in like manner observed by the whole Church wherever it has been established.¹⁸⁹

St. Augustine states that the sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist are clear from Scripture, but there are “other such things,” i.e., other sacraments, received on the authority of Tradition. He doesn’t mention Holy Orders here, but he at least affirmed that there are more than two sacraments, and as we will see below, he counted Holy Orders among them. The early Church held Holy Orders to be a sacrament. But the word ‘sacrament’ has developed in meaning over the years such that what was meant in the sixteenth century was not precisely what was meant in the fourth or fifth centuries when the word was first used by St. Augustine.¹⁹⁰

Martin Luther also denied that Holy Orders is a sacrament. He retained a role for bishops in his ordination rites, but insisted that they only confirm men chosen by the people. If the bishop were to refuse to ordain such elected men, the congregation itself should ordain them to the clergy anyway.¹⁹¹ Because Luther rejected Holy Orders as a sacrament, the clergy were not necessary at all for valid ordination. ¹⁹² Luther argued that the biblical requirement that the ordinand be “blameless” is evidence that even St. Paul did not dare to ordain anyone who was not approved by the congregation. ¹⁹³

Both Luther and Calvin correctly recognized that the election by the congregation, even in the case of bishops, was an important aspect of Christian ordination dating back to the apostolic age. But they were mistaken to confuse election and ordination. John Calvin says that other pastors should preside at the election. But his reasons are not that a valid ordination cannot occur without them, but rather the clergy ought to be present, “lest any error should be committed by the general body either through levity, or bad passion, or tumult.” He does not believe that a valid ordination can occur without the consent of the people, and he cites St. Cyprian of Carthage in support of this position. ¹⁹⁴ However, even supposing that he required clergy to be present and considered the proper act of ordination to be effected by the clergy, he would still be opposed to apostolic Tradition because the first Calvinist ministers did not possess the power of ordination. That is, the second generation of Calvinist ministers may well have been ordained only by Calvinist ‘clergy,’ but the first generation of Calvinist ‘clergy’ were mostly ordained by the mere consent of the congregation, and hence were not actually clergy.

The first century congregation of Jerusalem elected the first deacons, but the people did not ordain them. The congregation presented the chosen men to the Apostles, who prayed over them and laid hands on them, thereby conferring the sacrament of Holy Orders. ¹⁹⁵ There is no example in the New Testament or in early Church history of anyone other than a bishop ordaining a Christian minister. ¹⁹⁶ We will argue in the following sections that the early Church considered Holy Orders to be a sacrament and that the first Protestants erred in rejecting it as such.

b. Definition of Sacrament

The Catholic Catechism defines sacraments in this way:

The sacraments are efficacious signs of grace, instituted by Christ and entrusted to the Church, by which divine life is dispensed to us. The visible rites by which the sacraments are celebrated signify and make present the graces proper to each sacrament. They bear fruit in those who receive them with the required dispositions.¹⁹⁷

Protestant scholar Allister McGrath affirms that the doctrine that sacraments “convey the grace which they signify” can be traced back to the second century. St. Ambrose, according to McGrath, is especially responsible for expounding or developing this doctrine clearly. His pupil, St. Augustine, would go on to pave the way for Catholic teaching on the subject from the medieval period and on through to the present. Thus McGrath writes, “It is clear that a major function of the sacraments, in the thought of Augustine and his medieval successors, is that of the efficacious bestowal of grace.”¹⁹⁸ Sts. Ambrose and Augustine were indeed repeating and expounding a doctrine of sacramental efficacy that predated their work.

But does Holy Orders as found in the Fathers match the definition of a sacrament as something that includes the efficacious bestowal of grace? The patristic evidence demonstrates that the early Church held the rite of Holy Orders to confer grace and to effect a real change in the ordinand. ¹⁹⁹ Many Fathers explicitly referred to Holy Orders as a sacrament, and as St. Augustine said, none of them doubted it. ²⁰⁰ Furthermore, as shown above,²⁰¹ Holy Orders was directly instituted by Christ. As St. Thomas Aquinas said several hundred years before the Reformation, “a sacrament is nothing else than a sanctification conferred on man with some outward sign. Wherefore, since by receiving orders a consecration is conferred on man by visible signs, it is clear that Order is a sacrament.”²⁰²

One Protestant objection is that if Christ instituted seven sacraments, then why didn’t the Church recognize Holy Orders as a sacrament until the middle ages? This is false because it was recognized as a sacrament long before the Middle Ages. The Council of Trent was by no means the first authority to count Holy Orders among the sacraments.²⁰³ That is to say, Holy Orders was definitively taught as a sacrament by the universal Church long before the Reformation. Our next section will show that it was held to be a ‘sacrament’ by the early Church Fathers.

c. Evidence from Scripture and Tradition

The Biblical evidence that Christ established Holy Orders begins with the fact that Christ invested the Apostles with real authority and ordained them as priests of the New Covenant. ²⁰⁴ That the laying on of hands in ordination confers grace is evident from 1 Timothy 4:14 and 2 Timothy 1:6. ²⁰⁵ The concept of Holy Orders conferring grace is common among all the early ordination prayers. ²⁰⁶ For St. Cyprian of Carthage, Christ Himself ordains the priest. ²⁰⁷ If Christ Himself confers ordination, its efficacy should not be doubted. In addition to his quotation above, St. Augustine also says:

Both of these, Baptism and Orders are Sacraments, and each is given to a man by a certain sacred rite.²⁰⁸

St. Augustine also referred to certain signs under the Old Covenant as “sacraments,” but he distinguished them from the sacraments under the New Covenant by noting that the latter “give salvation.” ²⁰⁹ Regarding Holy Orders, he also says:

In like manner as if there take place an ordination of clergy in order to form a congregation of people, although the congregation of people follow not, yet there remains in the ordained persons the Sacrament of Ordination; and if, for any fault, any be removed from his office, he will not be without the Sacrament of the Lord once for all set upon him, albeit continuing unto condemnation.²¹⁰

And St. Gregory of Nyssa says:

The bread again is at first common bread, but when the sacramental action consecrates it, it is called, and becomes, the Body of Christ. So with the sacramental oil; so with the wine: though before the benediction they are of little value, each of them, after the sanctification bestowed by the Spirit, has its several operation. The same power of the word, again, also makes the priest venerable and honourable, separated, by the new blessing bestowed upon him, from his community with the mass of men. While but yesterday he was one of the mass, one of the people, he is suddenly rendered a guide, a president, a teacher of righteousness, an instructor in hidden mysteries; and this he does without being at all changed in body or in form; but, while continuing to be in all appearance the man he was before, being, by some unseen power and grace, transformed in respect of his unseen soul to the higher condition.²¹¹

St. John Chrysostom says:

For the priestly office is indeed discharged on earth, but it ranks among heavenly ordinances; and very naturally so: for neither man, nor angel, nor archangel, nor any other created power, but the Paraclete Himself, instituted this vocation, and persuaded men while still abiding in the flesh to represent the ministry of angels.²¹²

St. Basil the Great (AD 374) affirms that in ordination “a spiritual charism” is received at the imposition of hands.²¹³ Pope St. Leo I (Bishop of Rome from AD 440-461), speaking of Holy Orders, instructs that care be taken in the ritual lest, “the ministration of a Sacrament so great and of so great blessing should be thoughtlessly discharged.”²¹⁴ Later in the fifth century, Pope Anastasius II compares it to baptism. ²¹⁵ Pope St. Gregory (Bishop of Rome from AD 590-604) also calls it a sacrament. ²¹⁶ Even some of the early Protestants, most notably the Puritan, Richard Baxter, affirmed Holy Orders as a sacrament. ²¹⁷

The technicalization of terminology is a lengthy process which is generally accelerated only as contextual pressure is applied. As it became more critical to clarify the Church’s doctrine on the sacraments in the middle ages, it became more common to refer to Holy Orders, and the other sacraments, as ‘sacraments.’ It seems that the word ‘sacrament’ had a broader meaning in the early Church than in the medieval Church. In the present day in the East, those same realities are referred to as ‘mysteries,’ which is the literal meaning of the word ‘sacrament.’ As with the clerical terminology, we are concerned not only with the words themselves, but with the realities to which they refer. Thus, the question becomes not how many times was the sacrament referred to as such in the early Fathers or in the New Testament, but whether or not the Church consistently understood the action of ordination to be instituted by Christ and to be an effectual outward sign of inward grace. As we have observed, the answer is clearly in the affirmative.

d. Conclusion on Ordination as a Sacrament

In order to deny the authority of the visible Church, it was necessary for the first Protestants to deny the sacrament of Holy Orders. If the first Protestants had acknowledged that Holy Orders was actually a sacrament, then they would have had to acknowledge the sacramental authority of their bishop. But if Holy Orders is a man-made rite and not a true sacrament, then the so-called ‘bishop’ has only as much authority as the congregation grants him. Therefore, by denying the sacrament of Holy Orders, Protestants were able to conceive of their actions as obedient to God [by obeying their own interpretation of Scripture] rather than disobedient to God [by disobeying God's appointed authorities], because they did not believe that their so-called ‘bishops’ were actually ordained under a true sacrament. They believed that the authority of the clergy was derived from the consent of the Christian congregation such that if the clergy ever started preaching the Word in a way that contradicted the congregation’s interpretation of Scripture, then the offending clergy were to be deposed by the congregation and would no longer be true clergymen. Thus, the clergy held no real authority over the people. Such a doctrine of authority was entirely incompatible with Holy Orders as a sacrament, and so denying the sacrament was a necessary step for Protestants in order to justify being and remaining Protestant. In order to establish the new tradition and law of the Protestant community, the first Protestants had to reinvent what it meant to be a Christian minister.

VI – The Nature of Holy Orders

a. In the Ordination Prayers

According to Dom Botte, all of the earliest prayers of ordination had four things in common. ²¹⁸ First, that the calling of the ordinand, and the hierarchical structure into which he was initiated, was by the will of God. ²¹⁹ Calvin also concurs on this point.²²⁰ Secondly, the bishops are successors to the Apostles. Our next article on Apostolic Succession will address this issue more thoroughly, but relevant to our present discussion, in her ordination prayers, the early Church consistently understood this action to be appointing a successor to the Apostles. The terminology associated with this point was closely linked to the role of the Holy Spirit and the sending at Pentecost. Lecuyer relates that, “According to Severian, the imposition of the gospel on the head [during ordination] represents the same sign as the tongues of fire upon the heads of the Apostles on the day of Pentecost.”²²¹ The third point of commonality in ordination prayers is that the presbyter’s “priesthood” is associated with the bishop’s. Fourthly, the clergy were “not simply ministers of worship.” They were pastors of souls and teachers of the Word. They administered the sacraments and governed the Church. Dom Botte captures this well saying:

Their essential mission is to govern the Church and feed the flock. They are not only high priests, but also–one might say supremely–pastors and doctors.²²²

b. Requirements for Ordination

There have always been requirements for ordination. John Calvin, in accordance with the Fathers, views a calling from God as a requirement of ordination; i.e., no one ought to assume the role without an actual calling to the ministry. ²²³ Another one of the primary requirements, which Calvin also stresses, is holiness. This requirement is repeated in the New Testament²²⁴ and again in the Fathers. ²²⁵

But what if an ordained man ceases to be holy or a man who is not holy is ordained? Is the ordination therefore invalid? First, the New Testament text does not indicate any possibility of this invalidating orders. There are similar exhortations to the baptized. For example, in Galatians 5:16 St. Paul tells the baptized to “live by the Spirit.” But the baptized do not lose baptism by ceasing to “live by the Spirit,” nor does it follow that they never were baptized. ²²⁶ Secondly, St. Augustine believed that both Baptism and Holy Orders were not repeatable. ²²⁷ Lastly, as we have argued above (Section V) Holy Orders is a sacrament. Both Catholics and Reformed Protestants agree that the efficacy of a sacrament depends not on the holiness of the minister but on the promise of Christ. ²²⁸ Therefore, since Holy Orders is a sacrament, its effects are not dependent upon the minister.

But could the effect depend on the recipient (ordinand)? Grace received through the sacraments is a gratuitous gift from God, not a reward for holiness. This gift does not depend upon either the holiness of the minister or of the ordinand. The exhortations to ordain only holy men are true and practical commands that the bishops must obey. Only men who are actually called to the priesthood (by God) should be ordained. Because of men’s sinfulness, many unworthy men have been ordained just as many men have unworthily received the sacrament of the Eucharist. But because of the efficacy of the sacraments, those men are still validly ordained.

There were various additional requirements for ordination. Several early councils prohibited bishops from ordaining men from outside their diocese. ²²⁹ They did this to keep peace between bishops²³⁰ and so that the personal character of the ordinand could be rightfully judged. The ordination ceremony must be public, preferably in the cathedral, because it concerned the whole Church. ²³¹ Other requirements included age, which was generally 25 to 30 for deacons, 30 to 35 for priests, and 35 to 40 or older for bishops. Age minimums still exist for all of these and may vary by diocese. The Council of Hippo in 393 required that ordinands possess a ‘knowledge of the scriptures.’ Those in certain professions were also considered ineligible for ordination. Some examples of barred professions include those involved with pagan religious rites, magistrates who had taken part in forbidden games, trustees of inheritances (until the inheritance was settled), and members of the armed forces.²³² From the earliest days of the Church, only men were chosen for the clergy, including bishops, priests, and deacons, and this Tradition was confirmed in the early legislation on the matter. ²³³

Another major requirement that varied by time and place is clerical celibacy. There was no universal law in the early Church regarding continence, but it was widely practiced among the ordained from the beginning, and by the second century it was practiced by the majority of the clergy.²³⁴ Continence was by no means exclusive to the West. Many Eastern priests and bishops practiced continence as well. Those married men ordained to the priesthood would be expected to live with their wives as brother and sister in the majority of cases. In the early cases of married bishops, the bishop would often have to separate from his wife, and she would be forced to live in a convent or become a deaconess. ²³⁵ It appears to have always been the case that the clerics could not remarry after ordination. ²³⁶ In the East, Theodosius II, in AD 420, imposed continence on all married bishops, and Justinian made the law definitive in the sixth century. ²³⁷ The West was stricter in this respect, and its legislation on continence began in the fourth century and extended to deacons and even to sub-deacons in some churches. ²³⁸ St. Ambrose, St. Jerome, Pope St. Leo, and St. Augustine were all in favor of clerical continence. ²³⁹ By the eleventh century, the West would only ordain unmarried men, and both East and West would retain the tradition of ordaining only celibate bishops.

The most common Protestant objection to priestly celibacy is that we know that the apostolic age had married clergy. We knows this because in the New Testament all three offices: bishop, presbyter, and deacon, are required to have only one wife. ²⁴⁰ But the Catholic Church does not teach that clerical celibacy is dogma. Clerical celibacy is a discipline of the Church like fasting during Lent. For that reason, the rule of priestly celibacy could theoretically change. That is why the Eastern Churches which are in union with the See of Peter are able to retain their tradition of married priests. For this reason, the discipline of clerical celibacy is in no way contradictory to the New Testament passages cited above. In fact, it is clearly in keeping with the New Testament praise for celibacy. ²⁴¹ Furthermore, the Church Fathers have consistently understood the passages regarding one wife as a prohibition of second marriage for clergy. Protestants reject both this traditional reading and any honor given to religious celibacy whatsoever.

c. Rituals of Ordination

The earliest surviving record of the ordination rite is The Apostolic Tradition of Hippolytus. What we can determine is this. First, the ordination ritual was always performed in the context of sacrificial liturgy, i.e., the Eucharist, just as its Old Testament type had been. ²⁴² From apostolic times, the ordinand was required to fast before the ritual. ²⁴³ The bishop was elected, not ordained, by the people. ²⁴⁴ Then, neighboring bishops, no fewer than three, would lay hands on him to confer ordination that would be confirmed by the Metropolitan. ²⁴⁵ A single bishop would then read the ordination prayer. This is the ordination prayer of St. Hippolytus:

God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Father of mercies and God of all consolation, you who live in the highest, but regard the lowest, you who know all things before they are,

you who gave the rules of the Church through the word of your grace, who predestined from the beginning the race of the righteous through Abraham, who instituted princes and priests, and did not leave your sanctuary without a minister; who from the beginning of the world has been pleased to be glorified by those whom you have chosen,

pour out upon him the power which is from you, the princely Spirit, which you gave to your beloved Son Jesus Christ, which he gave to your holy Apostles, who founded the Church in every place as your sanctuary, for the glory and endless praise of your name.

Grant, Father who knows the heart, to your servant whom you chose for the episcopate, that he will feed your holy flock, that he will wear your high priesthood without reproach, serving night and day, incessantly making your face favorable, and offering the gifts of your holy church;

in the spirit of high priesthood having the power to forgive sins according to your command; to assign lots according to your command; to loose any bond according to the authority which you gave to the Apostles; to please you in mildness and a pure heart, offering to you a sweet scent,

through your son Jesus Christ, through whom to you be glory, power, and honor, Father and Son, with the Holy Spirit, in the Holy Church, now and throughout the ages of the ages. Amen. ²⁴⁶

In cases of presbyters, other presbyters would also lay their hands on the ordinand during the ritual, but in the case of a deacon, only the bishop would lay hands. In the early Roman Church [the Church in the city of Rome], the ordination rituals entailed only these prayers and the laying on of hands, but other traditions were organically incorporated into the Roman rite and would eventually become standard for Western Christendom. ²⁴⁷

By the fifth century, the book of the Gospels was imposed on the forehead of the bishop at ordination, symbolizing his servitude to the Word. The tradition of anointing the bishop on the head with chrism oil appears to date back to about the same time. The traditions of bestowing a ring on the bishop, and the handing on of the pastoral staff, extend at least to the sixth century. ²⁴⁸ After the ninth century, anointing of the hands with oil was added for both priests and bishops, but only bishops were anointed on the head as a sign of authority. ²⁴⁹ About this time, or perhaps later, the “Delivery of the Instruments of Office” was added to the rite. This consisted in handing on the paten and chalice together with bread and wine, consecrated or unconsecrated, to the ordinand. ²⁵⁰ This tradition was slow to spread and its actual date of origin is uncertain.

d. The Chorepiscopi

In the second and third centuries, Christianity experienced rapid growth. As the Christian Church extended her reach from the city to the countryside, the single episcopocentric congregation, i.e., the body united around a single bishop and having a single Eucharist, began to manifest its limitations. The chorepiscopi were rural bishops [or priests] ordained to address the growing needs of the Church. They were more prominent in the East than in the West. It appears that some of the chorepiscopi were priests, but especially in the beginning the majority were actual bishops. ²⁵¹ The chorepiscopi who were ordained to the fullness of the episcopate could ordain presbyters and deacons, but only with the written permission of the city bishop to whom they were subject. ²⁵² The chorepiscopi were gradually replaced by priests as the rural ecclesial structure moved from rigid episcopocentricity to presbyterocentricity, which is the re-centering of local Church unity from the bishop to a lead presbyter. These individual congregations under such presbyters would in turn be united with other congregations under the city’s bishop. This development set the stage for the emergence of what we know today as the local parish in the fourth and fifth centuries. In the late fourth century, the Synod of Sardica forbade the ordination of chorepiscopi when a presbyter would suffice, and the Second Council of Nicaea in AD 787 is the last to mention the office.

e. The Diaconate

The nature of the priesthood of both bishop and presbyter is evident from the facts above, but the diaconate stands in need of some additional treatment. The diaconate was a permanent office in the early Church, although plenty of deacons went on to become priests or bishops. Gradually, the diaconate became only a stepping stone to priesthood in the West and was thus only temporary in duration. However, the permanent diaconate was restored after Vatican II in 1967. Whether temporary or permanent, the deacon has always been understood as an assistant to the bishop. As the bishop and presbyters serve at the altar, the deacon serves the bishop and assists at the altar in the same way the Levites did in the Old Testament. Some have claimed that the ministry of deacons is solely for the material care of the poor and the supervision of “the tables,” but this belief was condemned by the Council of Trullo in AD 691.²⁵³

The early Church has unanimously understood the seven men ordained in Jerusalem (Acts 6) to be the first deacons, though the word is not specifically used there. ²⁵⁴ It was the custom among early Churches, especially at Rome, to have seven deacons after this model. Later divisions not of apostolic origin were added to this order: archdeacon and sub-deacon. Neither of these two are active today. Though the early deacons were considerably powerful, they were never allowed to offer sacrifice. ²⁵⁵ In the middle of the second century, deacons regularly distributed communion. ²⁵⁶ But by the time St. Hippolytus writes in the early third century, it appears that they were considered extra-ordinary ministers of communion, meaning that distribution of communion was no longer seen as their proper duty. By the fourth century, they were no longer allowed to give holy communion when priests were present.²⁵⁷ One reason for this change was the growing importance of presbyters due to the increase in the number of rural Christians. During the third and fourth centuries, more priests were needed to consecrate the host, whereas in the first two centuries it was generally the bishop alone who consecrated the host. This gradual change in the duties of the deacon is not an abandonment of any apostolic institution or dogma. Rather it is a practical development related to the liturgy.

f. The Minor Orders

The minor orders are sacramental, but not sacraments. ²⁵⁸ That is, these were instituted by the Church, not by Christ. These minor orders date back to the early Church. In the middle of the third century, Pope Cornelius reports that Rome had “forty six priests, seven deacons, seven sub-deacons, forty-two acolytes, fifty-two exorcists, readers, and door-keepers, more than fifteen hundred widows and poor persons.” ²⁵⁹ We will not explain all of these minor orders in detail, but we should mention that the East typically recognized only two minor orders below the diaconate, sub-deacons and readers, although other offices were mentioned in Eastern documents.

In the West, hands were not imposed on those initiated into minor orders. But initiation for each minor order would include a specific outward sign. The arch-deacon was given a pitcher, a basin, and a towel. The sub-deacon was given an empty paten and chalice. The acolyte was given a candlestick, candle, and a pitcher to carry the wine. The exorcist was given the book in which exorcisms were written. Likewise, the reader was given the codex from which he would read. Lastly, the doorkeeper was given the keys to the church. The Eastern Churches did impose hands, and they also gave items to the minor-orders, but only after ordination.²⁶⁰

As for deaconesses, there seems to have been a minor order of sorts, sometimes referred to as ‘deaconess,’ that emerged and eventually disappeared. One of the primary functions of the deaconess was to assist during female baptisms for the sake of propriety. In Romans 16:1, St. Paul refers to Phoebe as a deaconess, but the word ‘deacon,’ and its feminine form, ‘deaconess,’ simply meant “minister.” In the same way that ‘presbyteros‘ sometimes referred to an old man, so the terms ‘deacon’ and ‘deaconess’ occasionally referred to one who ministered in the Church, and not necessarily to an actual order. ‘Deacon’ became a technical term for the diaconate early in the first century, but ‘deaconess’ was not a technical term during that time. The reason that ‘deacon’ is known to be a technical term is because of its wide and consistent use in early patristic literature and in 1 Timothy. ²⁶¹ The term ‘deaconess’ appears much less frequently and less consistently than the term ‘deacon.’ It is clear that the deaconesses did not receive Holy Orders, although their initiation ritual was similar to deacons in the East. The Council of Nicaea, at canon 19, explicitly declared that deaconesses are to be counted among the laity. Later, the Council of Orange in 411 AD forbade the ordaining of women to the office of deaconess at all. The prevalence of deaconesses continued longer in the East than the West, but by the eleventh century the office appears to have disappeared completely. It should be noted that there was a minor order under the title of ‘widow.’ Both the office of deaconess and widow had strict age requirements of fifty or sixty years old, although in one case, which met with disapproval, a deaconess was initiated in her twenties.

g. A Refutation of Presbyterial Ordination

In the early Church only the bishop could ordain. ²⁶² To state it more plainly, as Anglican scholar Charles Grueber points out, there is not one single instance of ordination by one presbyter to another in history, nor in any canon of any council, nor do we have any record of a Church father advocating it. ²⁶³ Proponents of presbyterial ordination often point to 1 Timothy 4:14 as evidence of Timothy being ordained by a presbyterial body.²⁶⁴ But this is not good evidence because the term ‘presbyteros,’ as we have argued above, was not yet a technical term; it simply meant elder. Furthermore, in 2 Timothy 1:6 Paul refers to Timothy’s ordination as by his own hand. So we know that at least one bishop had participated in his ordination, namely Paul. Thus, 1 Timothy 4:14 is not evidence for presbyterial ordination. ²⁶⁵

Another argument used by proponents of presbyterial ordination is St. Jerome’s explanation of ordination in Alexandria:

For even at Alexandria from the time of Mark the Evangelist until the episcopates of Heraclas and Dionysius the presbyters always named as bishop one of their own number chosen by themselves and set in a more exalted position, just as an army elects a general, or as deacons appoint one of themselves whom they know to be diligent and call him arch-deacon. For what function, excepting ordination, belongs to a bishop that does not also belong to a presbyter?²⁶⁶

The most obvious problem with using this as an example of presbyterial ordination is that it never uses the term “ordain;” rather it uses the term “elect” which is consistent with the monepiscopal ordination. Secondly, St. Jerome goes on, as shown in the quotation above, to state explicitly that bishops have the power of ordination and not presbyters. Furthermore, Cirlot has decisively refuted the opinion that Alexandrian presbyters ordained their own bishop. ²⁶⁷

h. Cardinals and Archbishops

The sacramental hierarchy received by the Church is: bishop – presybter – deacon, and this has not changed. The term ‘archbishop’ is given as an honorific title to the bishop of an archdiocese which is so named for its prestige or importance. The title archbishop does not indicate a higher position in the hierarchy than a bishop; there is no higher office than bishop. The pope himself, in terms of his sacramental ordination, is simply a bishop.; “pope” is not a fourth level of hierarchy. ²⁶⁸

Similarly, ‘cardinal’ is not a new order in the hierarchy. In late antiquity and up to the middle ages, this title could be applied to both priests and deacons. The cardinal bishops took on greater importance in 1059 when, at the decree of Nicholas II, they were given the duty of assisting in papal elections. The papal elections became exclusively their responsibility in 1179 by the Decretal of Alexander III, “Licet de vitandâ,” at the Third Lateran Council. All of this is a matter of Church discipline. ²⁶⁹

VII – Conclusion

This discussion of Holy Orders is the foundation for our next article on the critical topic of apostolic succession, and so it is important to summarize what we have shown here. We have argued first that the mission of the Church is to save souls, souls are saved by grace, and grace is received through the sacraments. Therefore the sacraments are integral to the mission of the Church. This sacramental mission is centered on Christ, who at His Incarnation invested the whole of creation with a new and sacred significance. He did so most visibly with the sacred mysteries of salvation. These mysteries, or sacraments, were entrusted to the Church, His Bride and Mystical Body. He hand-selected certain men to carry on the task of administering these sacraments, breathed on them the Holy Spirit, and sent them out to preach the gospel and to heal the sick.

We found that this sacramental hierarchy reflects the natural hierarchy of the cosmos and that neither hierarchy nor liturgy are “necessary evils.” Order is nothing but “the distribution which allots things equal and unequal, each to its own place.”²⁷⁰ Through Holy Orders the ordinand receives an indelible effect of grace. This initiation into the hierarchy is a good ordered towards the building up of the Church. We have given evidence that the hierarchical difference between the clergy and laity is not a corruption, but is the divinely ordained structure of the body of Christ.

We showed that there were various powers divided among the orders such that certain rights and powers were exclusive to one order. The bishops could ordain and presbyters could not. Priests, i.e., bishops and presbyters, could offer the sacrifice of mass, while deacons could not. We traced the development of the terminology and noted that the offices have always been distinct though the terminology had not always been precise.

An important section of this article is devoted to demonstrating the sacrificial nature of the priesthood. We showed that the Fathers understood the Eucharist as one and the same sacrifice of Calvary and that only bishops or presbyters could offer this sacrifice. We argued that the sacrificial language employed by the Fathers was not mere lip service, and that the Eucharist was inherently propitiatory. We next argued that the early Fathers spoke of Holy Orders in a way consistent with the Catholic definition of a sacrament and that there are many examples of the Fathers explicitly referring to it as such. We concluded that Christ indeed established a visible sacrificial priesthood by instituting the sacrament of Holy Orders.

Finally, in the discussion on the nature of Holy Orders, we argued the following. First, that the early ordination prayers and rituals confirmed the things we have been claiming regarding the nature of the priesthood. That is, the Church has always understood herself to be ordaining men in the manner of and to the offices described above. We also saw that only men were ordained, and that priestly celibacy has ancient roots in the early Church. We argued that presbyterial ordinations were unheard of in the early Church, and explained that the titles of archbishop and cardinal do not constitute additions to the apostolic three-tier hierarchy of the clergy. Historical evidence confirms that the Catholic hierarchy, as it has developed, is compatible with the early Church.

Christian communities that lack the monepiscopal hierarchy cannot support their divergence from ancient tradition either by the authority of the Church Fathers or even by the Scriptures. On the contrary, the overwhelming majority of Christians throughout the ages have been under the authority of particular Churches that preserve this apostolic foundation of Church hierarchy. Common to Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Anglicans, this hierarchy alone represents a coherent interpretation of the New Testament and early Church evidence. Our next article will argue that through the vehicle of apostolic succession, this sacramental hierarchy was passed on through the generations, and that whoever does not have it, is not united to the Church.

1. Bryan Cross and Tom Brown argued that the Church is visible here, and Bryan Cross argued that a denial of Catholic ecclesiology amounts to ‘ecclesial deism’ here.
2. I.e., Christ’s mission is to save souls and redeem the world.
3. Cf. Acts 15:11; Ephesians 2:5, 8.
4. The Westminster Confession of Faith says, “The grace of faith, whereby the elect are enabled to believe to the saving of their souls, is the work of the Spirit of Christ in their hearts; and is ordinarily wrought by the ministry of the Word: by which also, and by the administration of the sacraments, and prayer, it is increased and strengthened.” Westminster Confession of Faith [hereinafter WCF], ch. XIV, sec. 1.
5. To set the sacraments beside preaching in the Church’s mission does not deny the importance of preaching the gospel, nor does it deny the internal aspect of justifying faith.
6. CCC 1536 defines Holy Orders in this way: “Holy Orders is the sacrament through which the mission entrusted by Christ to his apostles continues to be exercised in the Church until the end of time: thus it is the sacrament of apostolic ministry. It includes three degrees: episcopate, presbyterate, and diaconate.”
7. Augustine of Hippo, City of God, bk. 19, ch. 13.
8. See http://www.archives.nd.edu/cgi-bin/lookup.pl?stem=ordo
9. Cassell’s Latin-English Dictionary (1957) defines ordinatio as “a setting in order, arrangement.” Further on the etymology of “ordain” can be found http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=ordain&searchmode=none.
10. Cf. http://www.etymonline.com/index.php?search=priest&searchmode=none.
11. P.M. Gy, “Early Terminology of the Priesthood,” in The Sacrament of Holy Orders, Some Papers and Discussions Concerning Holy Orders at a Session of the Centre de Pastorale Liturgique [hereafter Holy Orders], p. 115 (1955).
12. Of course this word didn’t originally refer to the initiation rite of the Church, but through widespread and consistent reference to that idea, it became a technical reference to that rite. Originally the Greek word for baptism simply meant immersion or washing.
13. Acts 2:42, we can infer, is a reference to the Eucharist instead of the Lord’s Supper/Agape. And because of its occasion on Sunday, Acts 20:7 is a definite reference to the Eucharist. (The Lord’s Supper/Agape was a liturgical meal celebrated by early Christians. It is distinct from the Eucharist although it is not uncommon for some Christians to refer to the Eucharist as the Lord’s Supper.) In the Agape meal, bread was blessed but not consecrated as the Body of Christ. It was celebrated in the home on a Sunday evening. The Eucharist, on the other hand, was celebrated on Sunday morning and the bread was consecrated as the Body of Christ.
14. St. Paul uses ‘eucharistia‘ to refer to Thanksgiving for meat offered in the market – 1 Cor 10:30. For a discussion of the length of the technicalization, see Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy, p. 79 (1945).
15. Quoted in A. Duval, O.P., “The Council of Trent and Holy Orders,” in Holy Orders, p. 246 (1955).
16. Christ is the center of God’s plan for mankind. Catechism of the Catholic Church [hereinafter CCC], para. 112. Christ is the center of the revealed mystery. CCC, para. 158. Christ is the key, center, purpose, and Master of all man’s history. CCC, para. 450.
17. See, e.g., Hebrews 3:1.
18. Mark 1:11.
19. Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy, p. 56 (emphasis original).
20. Ibid., p. 55. An example of the Jewish prayer can be found at pages 52-53.
21. St. Athanasius On the Incarnation, sec. 54.
22. I use the Latin missio because of the ancient dismissal phrase of the Latin rite, Ite missa est (literally: “Go, it is the dismissal”), which has the same root word from whence we derive both “mission” and “mass.” The Church’s mission (missio) is the missa (mass).
23. Quoted in Jean Daniélou, “The Priestly Ministry in the Greek Fathers,” in Holy Orders, p. 119.
24. Quoted in Tixeront, p. 193 (emphasis added).
25. Romans 5:9.
26. Isaiah 53:5.
27. John 6:55-57.
28. These effects of the Incarnation should not be understood exclusively, that is, as excluding the necessity of Calvary. We are by no means commenting on the necessity of Calvary vis-à-vis the mystery of the Eucharist.
29. Cameron Mackenzie, The “Early” Luther on Priesthood of All Believers, Office of the Ministry, and Ordination, p. 2-3, available here.
30. A so-called ‘visible institution’ that does not have visible leadership is either invisible or it is not an institution. See Bryan Cross’s and Tom Brown’s article, Christ Founded a Visible Church, Called to Communion.
31. See St. Paul’s words in 1 Timothy 1:13-16. St. Paul calls himself the chief sinner and shows that in respect to sin nature, and being saved by grace, he is of the same status as the laity. If this is true of an Apostle, much more is it true of the non-apostolic clergy. But he does not indicate here, or anywhere else, that clergy and laity are of the same status in all respects. In fact, several Pauline passages clearly indicate a distinction between the clergy and laity. See below, section II.b.
32. 1 Corinthians 11:14 and Romans 1:20, respectively.
33. Proverbs 6:6.
34. Thomas Howard, Chance or the Dance? A Critique of Modern Secularism, pp. 12-13 (Ignatius, 1989).
35. To understand how and why the symbolism of nature is inherently meaningful and instructive, I recommend first, Dr. Peter Kreeft’s excerpt from “Women and the Priesthood” on ‘Sexual Symbolism’ which can be found online here, and my own article The Divine Metaphor. For a more thorough examination, see Joseph Ratzinger, The Spirit of the Liturgy (2000).
36. Cf. Romans 1:20.
37. St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica II Q.93 a.3, available here.
38. Cameron Mackenzie uses this term (approvingly) to describe Luther’s doctrine on ordination. Cameron Mackenzie, The “Early” Luther on Priesthood of All Believers, Office of the Ministry, and Ordination, p. 8. However Luther’s view on Holy Orders may have changed throughout his lifetime is irrelevant to the current discussion. This is because he may have increased the importance and necessity of hierarchical order and hence lessened the authority of the congregation later on in his life, but these clergy invested with greater authority were still the same ones ordained by the authority of the congregations years before. Luther’s walls may have been better constructed than his foundation, but his foundation was still weak.
39. Ibid.
40. Ibid., p. 9.
41. The argument runs like this. 1. God’s plan for the clergy/laity distinction is good. 2. Any bad plan cannot be God’s plan. 3. Inequality is bad. 4. Therefore inequality between clergy and laity is not God’s plan. This argument is false because of 3. Inequality is not bad in itself, and ordered inequality is good.
42. Bryan Cross and Tom Brown argued for a visible Church in the article Christ Founded a Visible Church, Called to Communion. See also Bryan Cross, Why Protestantism has no Visible Church.
43. Bryan Cross, Ecclesial Deism. Deism is the belief that God created the world and left it to run its own course without intervention. Ecclesial Deism is the belief that God established the Church and did not guide it by the Holy Spirit, but rather left it to run its own course without intervention. See ibid..
44. See, e.g., Francis A. Sullivan, From Apostles to Bishops, p. 21 (2001); Stephen Ray, Upon This Rock, pp. 37-38 at fn. 41 (1999).
45. The precise nature of the office and authority of these leaders will be discussed in more detail in .
46. See especially chs. 1 and 54. St. Ignatius of Antioch teaches this same doctrine about a decade later, “we should look upon the bishop even as we would upon the Lord Himself,” and obedience to the bishop and the presbytery is necessary so that “you may in all respects be sanctified.” St. Ignatius to the Ephesians sec. 6 and sec. 2 respectively.
47. Tertullian The Prescription Against Heretics, sec. 32 (showing that he was ordained by St. Peter); Philippians 4:3 (showing that he labored with St. Paul); Eusebius Church History, 3.4.10.
48. St. Clement of Rome to the Corinthians, 44.4, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. I, [21] p. 11.
49. St. Clement of Rome to the Corinthians, 44.1 quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. I, [21] p. 10-11 (emphasis added). Again, it may be claimed that the rightful clergy described in this passage are qualified by holiness, but such a claim is not supported by the text. If St. Clement held such a nominal view, then he would be directly undermining the fundamental purpose of his letter. Some in the Corinthian congregation were attempting to depose their clergy because they believed that those clergy were not fit for the office. It is absurd to suppose that St. Clement was saying, “You do not have the right to depose these leaders because no clergy who is fit for the office may be deposed.” St. Clement knows that the laypersons responsible for this sedition did not believe that the clergy were fit for the office. That was the point of his letter, to tell them that they did not have the right to do what they did. He did not argue that they misjudged, and that the clergy were actually fit for the office. Rather, he told them that they simply do not have the authority to make such a judgment.
50. 1 Clement 40-41 (emphasis added).
51. By using the phrase “the consent of the whole Church,” St. Clement was not merely referring to the consent of church-members everywhere, as opposed to the local church. He was appealing to the authority of the Church as Church. For example, the Jerusalem council of Acts 15 is rightly understood as an act of “the whole Church” because the highest leaders of the Church convened, and with their full authority, definitively bound the consciences of all Christians everywhere. There was no universal vote taken of the laity; neither do we have any precedent of such an occurrence in all of Church history.
52. Council of Illiberi Canon 51, trans. William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. I, [611aa], p. 257.
53. Council of Illiberi Canon 77, quoted in Denzinger, Sources of Catholic Dogma #52e, p. 25 (emphasis added).
54. The canons can be found online here: http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3801.htm.
55. See Tixeront, pp. 52-54, for examples. See also Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics, 41.4-8.
56. See also St. Gregory of Nazianzus Orations, 2:4-5; 28:2.
57. Before the Fall, man’s lower powers were subject to his higher power of reason, and his power of reason was subject, by grace, to God’s will.
58. See John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.19.22-33.
59. The most incontrovertible difference is the bishop’s ability to ordain, which presbyters do not have, as will be shown below.
60. E. Schuerer has argued that the term ‘presbyter’ was not applied to the Elders of the Jewish synagogues of the dispersion until the end of the third century. Ehrhardt argues that the Gospels and Acts prove that it was used for first century Jewish Elders in Palestine. Arnold Ehrhardt, The Apostolic Succession in the First Two Centuries of the Church, p. 27 (1953); Ehrhardt cites E. Schuerer, Gesch. d. Jued. Volkes, 3rd ed., 3.39, ff. The word ‘presbyter,’ it seems, was especially associated with the Sanhedrin. This would have given it certain ecclesial undertones as it began to be used by the early Christians to describe their own ministers.
61. Exodus 24:1-2.
62. Luke 10:1. Some translations say seventy, others say seventy-two.
63. The Commentaries of Isho’dad of Merv, ed. and trans. by M. D. Gibson, p. 9.
64. Some modern scholars have arrived at some surprisingly erroneous answers to this question because they limited the definition of the word ‘bishop’ to its modern meaning. See, e.g., http://www.catholic-convert.com/documents/PeterInRome.doc.
65. It is possible that the Apostles ordained only bishops and that they instructed the bishops to ordain some men as mere presbyters, but that does not appear to be the case. Rather, it appears that the Apostles themselves appointed both bishops and presbyters while they were alive. For example, St. Peter seems to have ordained St. Clement of Rome as a presbyter, although it is possible that St. Clement was ordained as a bishop from the beginning. Most scholars believe that St. Clement was elevated to the episcopacy after St. Peter’s martyrdom in AD 62. Since two others, Sts. Linus and Anacletus, are known to have preceded St. Clement in the episcopate at Rome, it appears that he was originally a presbyter. See Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics, 32. Eusebius identifies St. Clement with Paul’s co-worker in Philippians 4:3. Church History, 3.4.10. The passage in Philippians does not prove that St. Clement was a presbyter (and not a bishop), but it is certainly consistent with this theory.
66. Cf. 1 Clement, ch. 42.
67. Concerning Judas, St. Peter says, “For it is written in the book of Psalms, ‘Let his habitation become desolate, and let there be no one to live in it’; and ‘His office [bishoprick] let another take.’” (Acts 1:20 RSV); Acts 1:21-26 explains that Mathias was selected by lot to fulfill the ‘episcopate’ of Judas Iscariot. This demonstrates that there was an actual epsicopal ministry proper to each of the twelve.
68. See St. John Chrysostom, Commentary on Philippians, 1:1.
69. We have no direct evidence of this happening so we should conclude that if it ever did happen, it was only for a short amount of time, until a bishop could be appointed.
70. Petavius, Dissertat. Ecclesiastic., 1. I, cap. ii (ed. Vives, t. VII.).
71. See also Tixeront, p. 79.
72. Council of Nicaea (AD 325), canon 8, available at: http://www.newadvent.org/fathers/3801.htm.
73. This can be shown to be compatible with Catholic ecclesiology because even today there are certain situations that allow for multiple bishops to reside in a single city (though not as pastors over the same flock). For example, auxiliary bishops are sometimes ordained, and work alongside and in the same city with regular bishops. Also, certain Eastern Churches in communion with Rome, such as the Ukrainian Catholic Church, have their own bishops who reside within the physical diocesan jurisdiction of a Western bishop. These extraordinary provisions are seen as administrative or disciplinary exceptions. In no way do they conflict with the apostolic ‘one bishop per city’ rule. In the case of Jerusalem in the first century, St. James is known to be the bishop even while other Apostles, including St. Peter, were present. Acts 12:17; 15; 21:17-19; Josephus, Antiq., XX, ix, 1; Eusebius, Church History, 2.1, 23. Since we know that St. Peter, all things being equal, would be the chief, it shows that sometimes there were Apostles or bishops in cities alongside the present bishop of that city. In those cases, even Apostles conceded some authority or jurisdiction to the local bishop. How much more would authority be conceded to the single local bishop in cases of visits by ordinary bishops? Therefore, the existence of two bishops in one city in the first century is compatible with monepiscopacy. (The word ‘conceded’ is being used in the sense of a concession from one naturally or in some sense higher in authority. For example, Pope St. Anicetus conceded the administration of the Eucharist to St. Polycarp in Rome on one occasion. This is a concession because it was Pope St. Anicetus’s right to administer the Eucharist. In that sense, ‘concede’ presupposes a top-down hierarchy. In that same way, St. Peter appears to have conceded some authority to St. James in the city of Jerusalem.)
74. 1 Clement, one may object, does not clearly refer to a single bishop, but his epistle is consistent with a single resident bishop. The earliest records that are unambiguous about the episcopacy affirm the single resident bishop, e.g., St. Ignatius of Antioch.
75. Tixeront, p. 99.
76. See Acts 15:12-14; 21:18; Galatians 1:19; 2:12; Eusebius, Church History, 2.1.2.
77. An example of one such scholar is Francis Sullivan. See his book, From Apostles to Bishops, 2001.
78. Cf. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 1.13.29. For more on Calvin’s rejection of these epistles, see http://socrates58.blogspot.com/2009/06/john-calvins-rejection-of-epistles-of.html.
79. The Ignatian Epistles are Entirely Spurious. For a brief refutation of his work, see http://godfearin.blogspot.com/2008/05/were-letters-of-ignatius-forged.html.
80. The quotation is from Killen’s book cited above referring to the period during which he thinks the epistles were forged. St. John the Apostle is traditionally believed to have died around the end of the first century.
81. Tertullian says that the residential monepiscopacy of Asia Minor has St. John the Apostle as their “author.” Tertullian, Against Marcion, 4.5.
82. St. Stephen, Ina de Gnos (251 AD), quoted in Denzinger, Sources of Catholic Dogma [hereafter Denzinger], #45, p. 22.
83. This view is not exclusive to Protestants nor do all Protestants hold it. For example, Catholic scholar Francis Sullivan adopts this view in his From Apostles to Bishops (2001). Even some Catholic scholars believe that Rome herself was governed by a body of presbyters until the middle of the second century. This erroneous opinion was refuted by David Albert Jones, O.P., in the British Journal “New Blackfriars,” 80 (No. 937) (March 1999), p. 128. Sullivan’s From Apostles to Bishops is, in part, an attempt at refuting Jones. Sullivan’s work was refuted by Oswaldo Sobrino, available at: http://www.catholic-convert.com/documents/PeterInRome.doc.
84. St. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 3.3.3.
85. Sobrino writes, “The mindset identified by Jones becomes most apparent in the critical literature consistently limiting the term ‘bishop’ to a quite narrow and anachronistic definition. Explicitly or implicitly, the scholars denying a first century episcopate will usually define the term ‘bishop’ as denoting ‘a solitary permanent resident church administrator for one city.’ Oswaldo Sobrino, Was Peter the First Bishop of Rome?, available at: http://www.catholic-convert.com/documents/PeterInRome.doc.
86. St. Peter is mentioned far more often than all the others, always first, and in a prominent role. See R.E. Aguirre’s guest post on Called to Communion, The Primacy of Peter According to the New Testament: and the Principle of Historical Fulfillment, available at: http://www.calledtocommunion.com/2010/04/the-primacy-of-peter-according-to-the-new-testament-and-the-principle-of-historical-fulfillment/. St. John is referred to as the “beloved disciple” indicating a kind of honor even if not explicitly higher than others in rank. Sts. Peter, James, and John are often found in more intimate settings with Christ, and certain things, such as the Transfiguration, are revealed to them ahead of the others.
87. Mark 10:35-37. Jesus corrects Sts. John and James and uses this as an opportunity to teach them of the radically different way in which Christians are to achieve the “highest seats.” Notice, however, that He does not repudiate the idea of the existence of “highest seats.” In fact, He confirms that those seats exist and that they belong to someone. Mark 10:40. Jesus teaches them that the way to achieve greatness in the hierarchy of the kingdom is not in the expected manner, but He does not deny the hierarchical nature of the kingdom. He does not destroy the idea of visible hierarchy; He turns their expectation of how to advance in this hierarchy on its head: “whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant.” Mark 10:43.
88. See Gregory Dix, Shape of the Liturgy; J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation,” printed in Holy Orders, p. 191-192 (1955).; Tixeront, p. 86-87.
89. St. Ignatius of Antioch shows that in the early second century, presbyters were able to consecrate the Eucharist only by delegation from their bishop: To the Smyrnaeans, 8.
90. J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation,” printed in Holy Orders, p. 191-192 (1955).; Tixeront, p. 84-87. In these citations, Tixeront and Guademet argue that the right to preach was generally reserved to the bishop at least through the first century. Harnack and Hatch disagree with them on this point.
91. Anglican scholar Charles S. Grueber, Holy Order, a Catechism [hereinafter Grueber], p. 61-64 (1883).
92. St. Jerome, Commentary on Titus, 1:5.
93. In his Letter to Evangelus, St. Jerome asks, “For what function, excepting ordination, belongs to a bishop that does not also belong to a presbyter?”; St. Jerome, Commentary on Titus, 1:5.
94. In saying “we must maintain,” I mean that for Catholics, it must be accepted de fide irrespective of one’s opinion of history, because it was defined at Trent. Council of Trent, sess. XXVIII, canon 6. However, as we are arguing in this article, this solution is fully compatible with the evidence, and in fact, the evidence points to some such conclusion. The contrary (modern) theory of episcopal development is not well supported by the evidence, as we have argued. It is also conceivable that the Apostles did not divide the office themselves, but rather instructed those whom they ordained to do so. Both theories (that the Apostles divided it themselves, and that they instructed their successors to do so) are compatible with the monepiscopacy, but the evidence appears to indicate that the former is more likely to be the case.
95. Acts 6:1-6.
96. St. Peter seems to have ordained St. Clement of Rome as a presbyter, although it is possible that St. Clement was ordained as a bishop from the beginning. Most scholars believe that St. Clement was elevated to the episcopacy after St. Peter’s martyrdom in AD 62. Since two others, Sts. Linus and Anacletus, are known to have preceded him in the episcopate at Rome, it appears that he was originally a presbyter. See Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics, 32. Eusebius identifies St. Clement with St. Paul’s co-worker in Philippians 4:3. Church History, 3.4.10. The passage in Philippians does not prove that St. Clement was a presbyter (and not a bishop), but it is certainly consistent with this theory.
97. Council of Trent, sess. XXVIII, canon 6.
98. A similar model, proposed by Dr. Kirk, is examined by Arnold Ehrhardt in The Apostolic Succession in the First Two Centuries of the Church, p. 12-15 (1953).
99. See “Jerome on the Tri-fold Ministry,” http://wellofquestions.wordpress.com/2009/01/18/jerome-on-the-tri-fold-ministry/.
100. John Zizioulas, Eucharist Bishop Church (2001), especially. p. 87 (stating the main thesis of his book).
101. St. Ignatius of Antioch, to the Philadelphians, 4.
102. Cf. especially the epistles of St. Ignatius, and of St. Cyprian, De Unitate.
103. Cf. the canons of the Council of Nicaea for a starting point.
104. Council of Orange (441), canon 10.
105. Councils of Carthage, (390), canon 3; (397), canon 36; Codex Ecclesiae Africanae, canon 6; Council of Toledo (400), canon 20.
106. In Epistola ad Gallos episcopos, canon 7.
107. Harnack and Hatch disagree with this point, at least concerning the apostolic age, while Tixeront concurs with Gaudemet. Tixeront, p. 84-87.
108. J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation,” printed in Holy Orders, p. 191-192 (1955) (all but fourth footnote original).
109. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.19.28.
110. St. Cyprian of Carthage On the Lapsed 26; he is referring explicitly to the Eucharist.
111. St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures: On the Mysteries, v.8.
112. Compare, e.g., Matthew 6:19-20 to Sirach 29:11; Matthew 7:12 to Tobit 4:15; Matthew 7:16, 20 to Sirach 27:6.
113. Hebrews 7:14.
114. J. Schmitt, “Jewish Priesthood and Christian Hierarchy in the Early Palestinian Communities,” in Holy Orders, p. 61 (1955).
115. St. Hegesippus holds this opinion in the middle of the second century as is made clear from his text preserved (approvingly) by Eusebius in Church History, 2.23.4-6. See also Exodus 28:41-43. I owe this point to patristic scholar Mike Aquilina. See Mike Aquilina, The Mass of the Early Christians, p. 23 (2001).
116. J. Schmitt, “Jewish Priesthood and Christian Hierarchy in the Early Palestinian Communities,” in Holy Orders, p. 65, 67 (1955). See also B. E. Thiering, “Mebaqqer and Episkopos in the Light of the Temple Scroll” (1981), available at: http://www.jstor.org/pss/3265535. Michael Giesler also points out that early Christian clerical celibacy may have been influenced by the celibacy practiced among the Essenes. Michael Giesler, “Celibacy in the First Two Centuries,” Homiletic & Pastoral Review, p. 26 (Jan. 2009). Schmitt also finds evidence in the New Testament, especially in Hebrews, that the first century Church experienced a merging of convert priests from both the Reformist movements (e.g., the Essenes), and the temple cult. J. Schmitt, “Jewish Priesthood and Christian Hierarchy in the Early Palestinian Communities,” in Holy Orders, pg 70-71. These converted priests would have carried ecclesial themes, clerical structures, and theological concepts with them into the Church.
117. P. M. Gy observes that the Francs were using it less frequently than the Romans in the eighth century, for example. P. M. Gy, “Early Terminology of Priesthood,” in Holy Orders, p. 108 (1955).
118. J. Danielou, “The Priestly Ministry,” in Holy Orders, p. 121 (1955). At this point Danielou cites Oscar Cullmann, Peter: Disciple – Apostle – Martyr (S.C.M., 1953).
119. Origen, On Prayer, 18.
120. Cf. Tixeront, p. 7-15 (containing plenty of references to the book of Hebrews and to the Church fathers); CCC 941, 970, 1121, 1268, 1279, 1545, 1548 (“Christ is the source of all priesthood”), 1554, 1565, 1589, 1591.
121. J. Lecuyer, “The Mystery of Pentecost and the Apostolic Mission of the Church,” in Holy Orders, p. 151 (1955).
122. Tixeront, p. 16-17.
123. It was “as the Father sent Me” that Jesus sent out His disciples. John 20:21. In other words, Christ ‘ordained’ His Apostles and commissioned them as priests in the same way that He was commissioned or ‘ordained.’ The Apostles were ‘ordained’ as priests by Jesus sending them; so too Jesus was ‘ordained’ by being sent from the Father.
124. Mark 1:11.
125. Matthew 5:17.
126. A. Gelin, “The Priesthood of Christ in the Epistle to the Hebrews,” in Holy Orders, p. 43 (1955).
127. For more evidence that St. Paul believes himself to belong to a ministerial priesthood, see Taylor Marshall’s podcast, “Was Paul a Catholic Priest,” available at: http://pauliscatholic.com/2009/07/episode-9-was-paul-a-catholic-priest/.
128. Arnold Ehrhardt, The Apostolic Succession in the First Two Centuries of the Church, p. 28 (1953).
129. For more, see P. Idiart, “The Priest, Pagan and Christian” (sec. 2 – “Christ the Priest, Sole Archetype of All Ritual Priesthood”), in Holy Orders, p. 268-291 (1955).
130. Hebrews 7:11-17.
131. Tixeront, p. 5-6 (citing biblical passages). See Genesis 8:20 for evidence of Noah’s priesthood, and Exodus 3:1 for an introduction of Jethro as priest of Midian.
132. E.g., 2 Samuel 24:25.
133. The Council of Trent declares that the ordination of the Apostles occurred at the Last Supper. Sess. XXII, De Sacrif. Missae, cap. I, and canon 2, V. supra., p. 33.
134. Mark 3:13-15. Note that some manuscripts omit “designating them Apostles,” but Luke 6:12-13 proves that whether or not the phrase was originally included in Mark, the concept is biblical.
135. Hebrews 7:12.
136. Matthew 5:17.
137. Hebrews 7:11, 17-28; 8:6-7, 13; 9:15. See also CCC 1541.
138. See N. T. Wright, Jesus and the Victory of God, esp. pp.451-454 (1996).
139. Cf. CCC 1565.
140. Luke 22:19.
141. Luke 22:29-30.
142. Mark 2:17.
143. St. Ignatius, To the Ephesians, 20:2.
144. John Calvin also agrees that this passage signifies ordination (John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.19.29), but disagrees that the Holy Spirit was given for expiation of sins (Ibid., 4.19.28). The passage in question is John 20:21-23.
145. See Dom Botte, “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” in Holy Orders (1955). Trent condemned those who deny that the Holy Spirit is given in ordination. Sess. XXIII, canon 4.
146. St. John Chrysostom, In Joan., Homil., 87 (al. 86), 3 (P.G. 59, 471), quoted in J. Lecuyer, “The Mystery of Pentecost and the Apostolic Mission of the Church,” in Holy Orders, p. 136 (1955).
147. Matthew 16:18-19; 18:18. Note that the “you” related to the keys is singular in Matt 16:19, giving the keys to St. Peter alone, but is plural in the second part of verse 19, giving the power to “bind and loose” to all of the Apostles. Tertullian, for example, links these passages together, namely the authority to forgive sins with the binding and losing and St. Peter as the rock on which Christ built the Church. See Tertullian, On Modesty, 21.
148. Francis A. Sullivan, From Apostles to Bishops, p. 21 (2001); Stephen Ray, Upon This Rock, p. 37-38 fn. 41 (1999).
149. St. Irenaeus, for example, links Pentecost (as an ordination of sorts) with the commission of preaching the gospel. Against Heresies, 3.1.1. The earliest ordination prayer for bishops that we possess clearly links ordination with the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles and with the founding of the Church. This aspect of the ordination prayer is a direct reference to the sign of Pentecost. The prayer reads: “pour out upon him the power which is from you, the princely Spirit, which you gave to your beloved Son Jesus Christ, which he gave to your holy Apostles, who founded the Church in every place as your sanctuary, for the glory and endless praise of your name.” St. Hippolytus, Apostolic Tradition, 3.3. For a fuller discussion of the link between Pentecost and Ordination in the early Church fathers, see J. Lecuyer, “The Mystery of Pentecost and the Apostolic Mission of the Church,” in Holy Orders, p. 131-167 (1955).
150. Jesus said, “If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.” John 20:23.
151. Acts 2:38.
152. St. John Chrysostom, In Matthaeum, Hom. I,1: PG 57,15, cited in Pope John Paul II, Veritatis Splendor (1993).
153. As quoted in J. Lecuyer, “Pentecost and the Mission of the Church,” in Holy Orders, p. 141 (1955).
154. Leviticus 10:11 shows that the old priesthood was entrusted to teach the Law to Israel.
155. Mark 1:38.
156. Mark 1:14.
157. Acts 2:14-36.
158. “Sealed by the sign of the Holy Spirit” is a reference to God’s mark of approval as a king gives his mark of authority (e.g. King Xerxes in Esther 3:12). Cf. Ephesians 4:30.
159. Mark 1:8.
160. The bishop/presbyter distinction was universally recognized by the early second century. The earliest written evidence of the terms ‘hiereus‘/’sacerdos‘ applied to a bishop is the late second century. This usage became universal by the late third century. Trinitarian language was not universally consistent with today’s language until I Constantinople in 381 AD.
161. In addition to the quotations below, see Tertullian, Prescription Against Heresies, 41 (accusing the heretics of giving the duties of the priesthood to a layperson); On Exhortation to Chastity, 7. For more quotations, see: http://www.catholic.com/library/Sacrifice_of_the_Mass.asp.
162. Didache 14:1-5. (Lightfoot’s translation)
163. 1 Clement 44, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. I, [21], p. 11. John Keith has translated the term as “duties” instead of Sacrifices. Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 9 (1896). The text literally means, “presented the offerings” according to this translation: http://www.earlychurchtexts.com/main/clementofrom/ministry.shtml (fn. 16). Sacrifice is a much more faithful rendering of “presented the offerings” than is the ambiguous “duties.” In fact, stripping the meaning of the word and reducing it to “duties” shows a clear Protestant (non-sacrificial) bias.
164. Malachi 1:10–11.
165. St. Justin Martyr, Dialogue with Trypho the Jew, 41, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. I, [41], p. 60. St. Irenaeus also calls the Eucharist a sacrifice and identifies it with Malachi’s prophecy. St. Irenaeus, Against Heresies, 4.17.5.
166. St. Cyprian, On the Lapsed, 26.
167. St. Augustine, City of God, 22.8. Later in the same work he refers to the “sacrificing priest.” Id., 22:10.
168. St. John Chrysostom, Sac; P.G. 48, 642, quoted in J. Danielou, “The Priestly Ministry,” in Holy Orders, p. 126 (1999).
169. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.19.28.
170. St. Augustine, City of God, 20:10.
171. See Protestant scholar J. N. D. Kelly and his study on the Greek term ‘ἀνάμνησις’: Early Christian Doctrines, pp. 196–197 (1958).
172. Harnack says, “What we nowadays understand by “symbol” is a thing which is not that which it represents; at that time [i.e., antiquity] “symbol” denoted a thing which in some kind of way really is what it signifies.” History of Dogma, I. p. 397 (1988). The Fathers clearly teach the Real Presence of Christ, that the bread and wine become the Body and Blood of Christ. Harnack’s explanation of the ancient understanding of what it means to be a symbol explains how the Fathers could believe that the Eucharist was truly the Body and Blood of Christ and also a symbol. However, the Eucharist is real in a way that other “symbolic” things are not (this is understood now and in antiquity). The point here is not to defend the doctrine of Transubstantiation, but only to show the weakness of the argument that denies the reality of the sacrifice of the Eucharist by relegating the mystery to symbolism. Since the modern mind apprehends ‘symbolism’ to mean that something is not real, whereas the ancient mind did not, this argument is weak. That is, the patristic use of the word ‘symbol’ in reference to the Sacrament does not connote what the modern use of the term ‘symbol’ connotes to us. And because of this the patristic use of the term ‘symbol’ to refer to the Eucharist does not imply that the Fathers thought of the Eucharist as “merely symbolic” à la Zwingli.
173. Cf. St. Epiphanius, The Man Well Anchored 57
174. Cf. St. Ignatius, to the Ephesians, 20:2. See Protestant scholar Allister McGrath, Christian Theology: An Introduction, p. 426 (1993).
175. Cf. Romans 3:25; 1 John 2:2; 1 John 4:10. See those verses especially in the KJV as evidence that the sacrifice of Calvary was propitiatory.
176. St. Ambrose of Milan, On Twelve Psalms, 38.25, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. II, [1260], p. 150.
177. St. Cyril of Jerusalem, Catechetical Lectures: On the Mysteries, v.8.
178. St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on First Corinthians, 24:2.
179. Origen, Commentary on Romans, 10:2.
180. Origen Homiliae in Jos. 2:1, quoted in J. Danielou, “The Priestly Ministry,” in Holy Orders, p. 123 (1955).
181. Origen, On Prayer, 18.
182. St. Cyprian of Carthage, Letters, 63:14.
183. St. John Chrysostom, Homilies on Romans, 8:8. See also Homilies on First Corinthians, 24:1(3), 2; Homilies on Hebrews, 17:3(6).
184. That is, it assumes that if something is not found in Scripture, then the Church doesn’t need to believe or teach it.
185. E.g., Revelation 5:8.
186. Romans 15:16.
187. P. M. Gy, “Early Terminology of the Priesthood,” in Holy Orders, p. 115 (1955).
188. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.19.3, quoting St. Augustine, De Doct. Christ., Lib. 3 cap. 9. The Westminster Confession of Faith also denies Holy Orders as a sacrament. WCF, 27.4. )
189. St. Augustine, Letter 54 to Januarius, 1.1.
190. Tixeront, p. 254.
191. Cameron Mackenzie, The “Early” Luther on Priesthood of All Believers, Office of the Ministry, and Ordination, p. 11.
192. Ibid., p. 16.
193. Ibid., p. 11
194. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.3.15
195. Acts 6:1-6.
196. Grueber, p. 53. See also the first footnote under section VI.g.
197. CCC, 1131.
198. Allister McGrath, Christian Theology: an Introduction, p. 426 (1993). That this doctrine can be traced back to the second century shows that sacramental efficacy did not originate with Sts. Ambrose and Augustine but rather was expounded with greater clarity by them. Sacramental efficacy is also taught by the New Testament, but it is not our purpose to demonstrate that here.
199. E.g., St. Cyprian of Carthage says that in the sacraments “divine benefits” are bestowed and that believers “receive the Lord’s grace.” Epistle to Magnus, 12.
200. St. Augustine, Against Parmenianus, 2.28-30
201. Section II.b; IV.d
202. St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, Sup. 34.3.
203. E.g., Henry of Suso calls it a sacrament in 1271. G. Fransen, “The Tradition in Medieval Canon Law,” in Holy Orders, p. 204 (1955). The Catholic Encyclopedia says that the same number of sacraments (as Trent) were reached: “in the Decree for the Armenians by the Council of Florence (1439), in the Profession of Faith of Michael Palaelogus, offered to Gregory X in the Council of Lyons (1274) and in the council held at London, in 1237, under Otto, legate of the Holy See.” Catholic Encyclopedia, “Sacraments”, available at: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/13295a.htm.
204. See supra, sections II.b and IV.d.
205. For a discussion on grace conferred by ordination, see Tixeront, p. 245-248 (1928).
206. Dom Botte, “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” in Holy Orders, p. 21-22 (1955).
207. St. Cyprian of Carthage, Epistle 68, ch.1, 10.
208. St. Augustine, Against the Letter of Parmenian, 2.14.28, quoted in Williams Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. III, [1617], p. 64.
209. St. Augustine, Commentary on the Psalms, 73.2, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. III, [1475], p. 19.
210. St. Augustine, On the Good of Marriage, 24:32, in NPNF1, III:412.
211. St. Gregory of Nyssa, On the Baptism of Christ.
212. St. John Chrysostom, On the Priesthood, 3.4.
213. St. Basil the Great, To Amphilochius, Bishop of Iconium, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. II, [919], p. 6.
214. Pope St. Leo I, Epist. ad Dioscor Alexand., c. 1.
215. Anastasius II, Epist. ad Anastas. August..
216. Pope St. Gregory I, Lib. 4, Exposit. Reg., c. 5.
217. Richard Baxter, Confirmation and Restoration, p. 88-90. Anglican scholar Charles Grueber claims that Luther, Chemnitz, and Antonio de Dominis were among the early Protestants who rejected Holy Orders as a sacrament and that Melancthon and Baxter were among those who retained it as a sacrament. Grueber 1883, pg 84-86
218. These four points are taken from Dom Botte, “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” in Holy Orders, p. 20-22 (1955).
219. Cf. St. Cyprian of Carthage, Epistle 68, ch.1.
220. John Calvin, Institutes of the Christian Religion, 4.3.10-11.
221. J. Lecuyer, – in the discussion following Dom Botte’s “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” found in Holy Orders, p. 24 (1955).
222. Dom Botte, “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” in Holy Orders, p. 21 (1955) (emphasis original).
223. Calvin did not believe, however, that a validly ordained bishop (according to the Catholic definition) was necessarily a part of that call.
224. E.g. Acts 6:3; 1 Timothy 3:1-3; Titus 1:6-8.
225. Cf.St. Hippolytus in The Apostolic Tradition, ch. 2 (“He who is ordained as a bishop, being chosen by all the people, must be irreproachable”).
226. From Apostolic times, baptism was only given once. Even in the case of men who had been baptized by heretics, when these men re-entered the Church, they were not re-baptized.
227. St. Augustine, Against the Letter of Parmenian, 2.14.28, quoted in William Jurgens, The Faith of the Early Fathers, vol. III, [1617], p. 64.
228. See Augsburg Confession, 8; WCF, 27.3.
229. J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation (IVth and Vth centuries),” in Holy Orders, p. 185-186 (1955).
230. cf. the dispute between Origen and his rightful bishop, Demetrius, over his ordination in Palestine by other bishops
231. Grueber, p. 51-53.
232. J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation (IVth and Vth centuries),” in Holy Orders, p. 190 (1955).
233. Ibid., p. 185-186. A brief defense: first, Paul’s prohibition of women speaking in Church must be understood liturgically rather than exhaustively. (1 Timothy 2:12. The argument that this prohibition was against a certain group of women who were causing a stir is entirely ad hoc. ) Secondly, the argument that Jesus’s choice of a male-only priesthood was a concession to social convention is untenable given that the Judeo-Christian priesthood was an anomaly among antiquity and not a submission to its norms. The pagan religions routinely, and sometimes exclusively, employed priestesses in service of the altars. In this respect, Judeo-Christianity was unique in contradistinction from the pagan cults. In Judeo-Christianity, God is represented as male, as someone other than the universe, as one who creates, bestows, and gives, rather than as one who receives. Now a sacrament is a sign, and a sign is not a sign at all if it does not signify. Jesus chose water for baptism because it represents cleansing. He did not choose mud because mud would not signify cleansing and would be ineffectual as a sign; thus it wouldn’t be a sign at all. Likewise, the priest is a sign of Christ, and in the Ignatian epistles, a sign of God the Father. A woman would be an ineffectual sign of either of these. Thus a priestess would not be a sign, and thus not a sacrament. ( For further reading, I recommend this article, an excerpt from Dr. Peter Kreeft’s “Women and the Priesthood” on “Sexual Symbolism,” available at: http://catholiceducation.org/articles/apologetics/ap0206.htm. ) There is no evidence that the Church ever ordained women. Deaconesses will be treated below. The patristic evidence against ordination of priestesses, on the other hand, is strong. (Cf. Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heresies, 41; On Veiling Virgins 9.1; Origen, in a Fragment of his commentary on 1 Corinthians 14:34, says “it is shameful for a woman to speak in Church”; St. Epiphanius, Against Heresies, 49. 2-3, 79. 304; St. John Chrysostom, On the Priesthood, 2.2, 3.9; St. Augustine, On Heresies, 27. )
234. Tixeront, p. 332-333. Giesler finds the same, “Celibacy in the First Two Centuries,” in Homiletic & Pastoral Review, p. 42 (Jan. 2009), citing Stefan Heid, Celibacy in the Early Church (2000). See also Christian Cochini, Apostolic Origins of Priestly Celibacy (1990).
235. Cf. Council of Trullo (692), canon 48. The Council of Elvira (early fourth century) permitted clergy to put away their wives (canon 33); this canon was rejected by the Second Council of Nicaea.
236. Tixeront, p. 337-338. Grueber confirms this view. Grueber, p. 33-34. The Council of Ancyra in AD 314 permitted deacons who could not live in celibacy to remarry after ordination with permission from their bishop. The Fathers have consistently read St. Paul’s restrictions on clerics having multiple wives (1 Timothy 3:2, 3:12; Titus 1:6) as the apostolic prohibition against remarriage for clerics. See also Christian Cochini, Apostolic Origins of Priestly Celibacy (1990).
237. Tixeront, p. 338.
238. Grueber places the origin of the rule of celibacy in the West at the decretal of Siricius in AD 385 (confirmed by Pope St. Leo I in AD 405 ), Grueber, p. 32.
239. Tixeront, p. 341.
240. 1 Timothy 3:2, 3:12; Titus 1:6.
241. Matthew 19:10-12; 1 Corinthians 7.
242. Grueber, p. 197-201. For the Old Testament types, see Exodus 29; Leviticus 8; Numbers 27; and Deuteronomy 39.
243. Grueber, p. 201-202.
244. The people were consulted, but strictly speaking election and certainly ordination belonged exclusively to the bishops. See Tixeront, p. 310. St. Cyprian always consulted the people and the clergy before ordaining. Ibid., p. 304-305. Grueber, p. 3-5, discusses the same, namely that election preceded ordination in accordance with the biblical model of Acts 6:1-6. He also notes that the word originally used for ‘ordination’ or imposition of hands was the Greek ‘keirotonia,’ which also meant “election.”
245. The three-bishop rule is of apostolic origin. See Tixeront, p. 207; Council of Nicaea, canon 4. The Council of Carthage in 398 (canon 22) prohibited the election of a bishop without the consent of the provincial bishops, the metropolitan, the clergy, and the laity. This rule remains in effect for the Catholic Church today excepting special dispensation from the Pope (Canon Law: 1014), available at: http://www.vatican.va/archive/ENG1104/__P3O.HTM.
246. The prayer is from The Apostolic Tradition by St. Hippolytus, which was reconstructed by Bernard Botte and Gregory Dix. This text is taken from an English translation by Kevin Edgecomb and can be found online at: http://www.bombaxo.com/hippolytus.html. Botte summarizes the prayer as follows: “God is asked to shed upon the elect the sovereign Spirit, spiritum principalem, which he gave, through Christ, to his Apostles who established the Church in the place of the temple to the honour of his name. The prayer goes on to indicate what the bishop must do: feed the holy flock (a biblical image recalling John 21, 15-17 and I Peter 3, 2); exercise the sovereign priesthood by serving God night and day; make propitious, and offer the gifts of holy Church; remit sins, dispense the portions, and loose all bonds by virtue of the power given to the Apostles.” ( Dom Botte, “Holy Orders in the Ordination Prayers,” in Holy Orders, p. 6 (1955). )
247. Ibid., p. 10.
248. See the Gregorian Sacramentary.
249. Grueber, p. 183.
250. A ‘paten’ is a plate used in the liturgy on which the bread to be consecrated is placed. The ‘chalice’ is the cup which holds the wine for consecration.
251. Grueber, p. 69. Zizioulas maintains that initially they were all bishops. Zizioulas, Eucharist Bishop Church, p. 159-160 (2001).
252. Synod of Antioch (AD 341), canon 10.
253. See Tixeront, p. 106.
254. Some scholars, following the Council of Trullo in 691, canon 16, deny that the passage in Acts is referring to deacons. A discussion and rebuttal of this opinion can be found in Tixeront, p. 106-107.
255. The diaconate was especially powerful at Rome.
256. Justin Martyr, First Apology, 65. He makes no mention of bishops or presbyters distributing communion. See also St. Ignatius, Letter to the Trallians, 2.
257. Gregory Dix, The Shape of the Liturgy, p. 135-13 (1945); J. Gaudemet, “Holy Orders in Early Conciliar Legislation,” in Holy Orders, p. 194 (1955). The Council of Arles (AD 314) forbade deacons to distribute holy communion when priests were present. Canon 15.
258. Grueber gives reasons why the minor orders are not among the sacraments. Grueber, p. 146-148. The prominent reasons he lists are the disagreement on the number of minor orders between East and West, the fact that they are not mentioned in Scripture, and the fact that imposition of hands is not used in the West.
259. Eusebius, Church History, 6.43.
260. Grueber, p. 149-150.
261. Recall that the term ‘deacon’ is not actually used in Acts 6:1-6 where the seven are ordained in Jerusalem. St. Paul’s reference to deacons in Philippians 1:1 could easily be read as a generic, non-technical term. But his references in 1 Timothy are technical in nature. 1 Timothy 3:8, 10, 12.
262. See Felix Cirlot, Apostolic Succession — Is It True? (1948); Grueber, p. 53. This practice is universal from the apostolic age and in Scripture. For a patristic example, see St. Athanasius, Apology Against the Arians, 76. The term ‘maiores natu‘ found in the letter of Firmilian of Caesarea to St. Cyprian of Carthage is [misleadingly] translated as ‘presbyters.’ Jurgens argues that the term should be understood as bishops. The Faith of the Early Fathers vol. I, pp. 245-246.
263. Grueber, p. 61-64.
264. In the modern Latin rite, all presbyters present lay hands on the ordinand after the bishop has ordained him. Paul could be referring to such a laying on of hands by the presbytery. As mentioned, presbyters who were present would lay hands on the ordinand during ordination in the cases of other presbyters, but not with bishops or deacons. We have no evidence whatsoever that presbyters (that is, simple priests) were involved in Timothy’s ordination.
265. For a more complete rebuttal, see here: http://energeticprocession.wordpress.com/2010/01/27/apostolic-succession-2-presbyterian-ordination/.
266. St. Jerome, Letter to Evangelus.
267. Felix Cirlot, Apostolic Succession – Is It True?, p. 373-374 (1948). See also “Jerome on the Tri-fold Ministry,” http://wellofquestions.wordpress.com/2009/01/18/jerome-on-the-tri-fold-ministry/ for a helpful summary (look towards the end).
268. It is worth mentioning here that the authority of the bishops authority received from the Apostles, handed on to them through Holy Orders, and not delegated from the pope. However, the teaching authority of any bishop is by virtue of his participation in the keys held by the episcopal successor of St. Peter. Also, when it is stated that there is no “fourth level of hierarchy,” that is to be understood structurally. There are certain bishops that have authority over other bishops and this dates back to the early Church. This can be shown in the case of metropolitans, for example, without even addressing the question of the papacy.
269. An explanation of discipline can be found here: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05030a.htm. An explanation on dogma can be found here: http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/05089a.htm.
270. St. Augustine, City of God, 19.13.

Unknown Russian Icon Painter (1500s)
Ikonen-Museum, Recklinghausen

For fifteen hundred years all Christians believed this. But in the sixteenth century John Calvin rejected this understanding of this article of the Creeds, calling it “childish.” He offered an innovation, proposing that the “descent into hell” meant that during the three hours on the cross, Christ’s soul descended into the hell of damnation, and was subjected to torments there from the wrath of God, the fear of eternal damnation, and the devil’s power. Last September Taylor posted about this here, provoking a fascinating discussion. This past Wednesday Professor Lawrence Feingold of the Institute for Pastoral Studies at Ave Maria University, gave an excellent lecture to the Association of Hebrew Catholics titled “The Harrowing of Hell,” in which he addressed this subject, defending the traditional position both from Scripture and the Fathers. What are implications of this doctrine? What are the implications of rejecting it? Listen to the lecture and the Q&A below.

“The Harrowing of Hell”

Q&A

Download the mp3s here: “Harrowing of Hell” and Q&A.

Contents:

I. The Canon Question
II. Diversity of Theories

A. Self-Attestation and the Testimony of the Holy Spirit
B. The Original Hebrew Old Testament
C. New Testament Apostolic Authorship
D. Widespread Acceptance by the Early Church
E. That Which Preaches Christ: A Canon Within a Canon

III. Authority to Answer the Question
IV. Conclusion

I. THE CANON QUESTION.

As Christians, how is it that we know we are saved by the death and resurrection of the incarnate Son of God? For those raised as Christians, the Sunday School sing-song answer “for the Bible tells me so” may come to mind, and this fairly well summarizes the Protestant teaching on the communication of saving truth. The Belgic Confession, an historical expression of the Reformed faith used widely in Dutch denominations, asserts that we know God by the beauty of creation, and “more openly by his holy and divine Word.” ¹ The Westminster Confession of Faith, widely adopted by Presbyterian denominations with traditionally Scottish origins, contains a comparable teaching: while the “light of nature, and the works of creation and providence do so far manifest the goodness, wisdom, and power of God, as to leave men unexcusable,” we still need revealed truth to possess the “knowledge of God, and of His will, which is necessary unto salvation.” ² Regarding this revelation, the Westminster Confession holds that God chose “to commit the same wholly unto writing.” ³

But this answer, that we know saving truth from the Bible, pushes the question back. What is the Bible? Our previous two articles, Hermeneutics and the Authority of Scripture and Solo Scriptura, Sola Scriptura, and the Question of Interpretive Authority, explored aspects of this question, including what we believe about the Bible, and our notion of the Bible as inerrant truth. In this paper I intend to explore another aspect of the question “What is the Bible?,” and this I will refer to as the Canon Question: “By what criterion do we know which texts comprise the Bible?” This is an essential question all Christians should be able to answer, but, in my experience in discussing this with other believers, it is to many a foreign subject matter. Without understanding why we believe the Gospel of Mark, or the Epistle of James, or the book of Esther to be among those writings inspired by the Holy Spirit, we cannot give a principled reason why we believe these books to be Scripture. Without any principled reason why we believe these books to be Scripture, we have no principled reason or basis for knowing what is the deposit of faith, and thus cannot give an answer to ‘everyone who asks us to give a reason for the hope we have.’ ⁴

In this article, I argue that Reformed theology is intrinsically incapable of answering the Canon Question. The confessional and classical Reformed answer to the Canon Question, which will be considered in depth in section II.A., relies upon the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit in the heart of each believer to give assurance of a text’s canonicity. I will argue that since any two Spirit-filled Christians who are new to Scripture might not agree that any given text is canonical, this test is of dubious reliability, and thus cannot be our ultimate measure of Scripture. The inherent subjectivity of this classical Reformed basis for the canon has led to a variety of different answers to the Canon Question, each seeking a more objective basis for identifying God-breathed texts. These various efforts to articulate an objective test for the canon are not mutually exclusive. They can be summarized as follows: the Old Testament canon is that set of Hebrew texts that were canonized by Jewish leaders of Jerusalem around the time of Christ; the New Testament canon is defined as those books which are immediately or mediately of Apostolic authorship; and finally, the canon is defined as those books which received widespread acceptance in the early Church (until a certain point in time). I will explore these topics, as well as Martin Luther’s view that the canon properly consists of those Old and New Testament books which “preach Christ,” in the remainder of section II. There, I shall argue that, given the Reformed assumption that whatever authoritatively testifies to the canonicity of Scripture must be more authoritative than Scripture, each of them necessarily places extra-biblical evidence above Scripture in its effort to objectively identify the canon. This places something from outside of Scripture above Scripture, and thereby violates the Protestant doctrine of sola scriptura.

In Section III, I argue that the very process of answering the Canon Question violates sola scriptura. This is because answering the question must involve extra-Biblical human judgment. This judgment is placed over Scripture because it defines the canon. By placing this judgment above the sole permitted infallible authority, the process of answering the question violates sola scriptura. As I will conclude, the fundamental problem for the sola scriptura position is that it has no way of determining the canon that is faithful to its own concept of authority.

II. DIVERSITY OF THEORIES.

Over the centuries since the Protestant Reformation, a variety of theories have sprung up that attempt to articulate an objective test for determining a text’s canonicity. The answers to the Canon Question that I describe here are comprehensive of the Protestant positions, although not exhaustive. Outlying variants on these theories abound, but the principal theories in use by Reformed and evangelical scholars are included below.⁵ These principal theories share the characteristics of purporting to reach their conclusion objectively, and (although being different tests) of reaching the same 66-book conclusion. The late Covenant Seminary professor R. Laird Harris believed that there is room within Protestant scholarship for multiple, and perhaps even competing, principles for determining the same canon:

[S]everal differing views concerning the principle of determination of the canon–views not necessarily exclusive–have been held through the centuries, and there is room for some differences of opinion on this point. . . . It is freely acknowledged that the views on canonicity here expressed are not the only views held by conservative Biblical scholars.⁶

For Harris, having a variety of canon theories within the Protestant academy is tolerable, so long as they each yield the 66-book Protestant canon. But as Dr. Flesseman-van Leer has rightly observed, those who accept the traditional canon of Scripture today cannot legitimately defend it with arguments that played no part in its original formation. ⁷ Post hoc rationalization of such a critical point as the formation of the canon would be like painting a target around one’s arrow that is already embedded in the wall. If a rule which has led some to the 66-book canon proves false, or fails to be truly objective, the remedy is not to find a new rule allowing us to reach the same conclusion. Instead, to be intellectually honest, we must find the rule that is ultimately right and true, and accept where it leads us, wherever it leads us.

Besides those Protestant theologians who tolerate competing canon theories but themselves only advance one criterion of canonicity, other theologians are willing simultaneously to use a plurality of criteria to reach the same conclusion. For example, Harris determines the extent of the Old Testament canon by following “[t]wo lines of approach,” “one historical and the other an appeal to authority.” ⁸ He writes, “[b]y both methods it can be seen that these Apocryphal books cannot properly be included in the sacred canon.” ⁹ That is, Harris is willing to use a plurality of theories, ones which he views as complementary, to reach his conclusion about the canon of Scripture. ¹⁰ While using plural criteria to accumulate evidence in favor of a text’s inclusion in the canon would be proper to the extent that each criterion is valid and consistent with one’s overall scriptural paradigm, it would be improper to the extent that any one component criterion was not. That is, for the Protestant, a theory that proves incompatible with sola scriptura cannot be salvaged merely by tying it together with a more defensible theory. Bearing in mind that each Protestant theory must be internally consistent with sola scriptura, I will now take them up in turn.

A. SELF-ATTESTATION AND TESTIMONY OF THE HOLY SPIRIT:

The Classical Reformed View:

The classical and confessional Reformed answer to the Canon Question stresses that the Holy Spirit is our immediate assurance of the canon’s truth, and also notes that the reliability of Scripture appears from within Scripture itself. This answer varies somewhat from source to source in its particular emphasis, but the assurance of the Holy Spirit is a clear common theme. In the course of the Reformation, Calvin was an early advocate for this position, which later became solemnized by the Reformed confessional standards. ¹¹ He taught that for the reader enjoying the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit, Scripture is self-attesting (i.e., it says on its own to this reader that it is Scripture):

[T]hose whom the Holy Spirit has inwardly taught truly rest upon Scripture, and that Scripture indeed is self-authenticated; hence it is not right to subject it to proof and reasoning. And the certainty it deserves with us, it attains by the testimony of the Spirit. For even if it wins reverence for itself by its own majesty, it seriously affects us only when it is sealed upon our hearts through the Spirit. Therefore, illumined by his power, we believe neither by our own nor by anyone else’s judgment that Scripture is from God; but above human judgment we affirm with utter certainty (just as if we were gazing upon the majesty of God himself) that it has flowed to us from the very mouth of God by the ministry of men. We seek no proofs, no marks of genuineness upon which our judgment may lean; but we subject our judgment and wit to it as to a thing far beyond any guesswork! ¹²

Calvin also likens asking the Catholic’s question, “how can we be assured that [Scripture] has sprung from God without recourse to the decree of the church?,” to asking “whence will we learn to distinguish light from darkness, white from black, sweet from bitter?” ¹³ For John Calvin, it is as apparent as black is from white which books are to be included in the canon: “Indeed, Scripture exhibits fully as clear evidence of its own truth as white and black things do of their color, or sweet and bitter things do of their taste.” ¹⁴ His answer, then, is that we can be assured that Scripture is of God simply by looking at it, just as we can tell black from white simply by looking at it.

The traditional Reformed confessions also did not neglect to answer the Canon Question.¹⁵ According to the Belgic Confession, we are to receive the books of the Protestant canon, and all taught within them,

“not so much because the church

receives and approves them as such

but above all because the Holy Spirit

testifies in our hearts

that they are from God,

and also because they

prove themselves

to be from God.

For even the blind themselves are able to see

that the things predicted in them

do happen.”¹⁶

Similarly, in the words of the Westminster Confession,

[O]ur full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority [of Scripture], is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit bearing witness by and with the Word in our hearts.” ¹⁷

What makes this classical and confessional position attractive, from the Reformed perspective, is its immediate reliance on God to lead Christians to His revealed truth. We do not have to accept the canonical texts “so much because the church receives and approves” them, but because we are convinced immediately by the Holy Spirit. There are no middle men to muddy the waters. By doing this, the Reformed confessions mean to avoid subordinating infallible Scripture to a fallible mediate human authority. This is essential to the Reformed system because if Scripture were subordinate to fallible human authority, its contents could be erroneous, thus rendering Scripture unreliable. And if Scripture were unreliable, it could not act as our sole infallible authority over all matters of the faith.

However, since any two Christians might not agree that any given book is (or is not) canonical even where they reflect carefully on the testimony of the Holy Spirit as they approach it, this test lacks objectivity and reliability. We should be able to verify the reliability of this classical Reformed canon criterion in the following way. If the classical Reformed canon criterion were true and we set various candidate texts, like books or passages from the New Testament, apocryphal works, or revered writings from the early Church Fathers, in front of new Christians who have the Spirit but have never read the Bible, they would all pick out the same books or passages as canonical. If Calvin’s black-from-white claim is true, our hypothetical new Christians attempting to discern canonical books from non-canonical would come to one conclusion. If we could run this hypothetical test, and we obtained a result that was successful less than 100% of the time, or even less than the vast majority of the time, at identifying the one true canon, this would show that this test is not a reliable test for determining the canon of Scripture.

Something close to this hypothetical test has already been run. In the early centuries of Christian history, the many faithful Christians in close communion with the Holy Spirit, and who did not yet have a determined canon for their Bible, did not conclude that the Protestant 66-book canon is correct. We have evidence that many early Church figures, including St. Augustine himself, supported the inclusion of the deuterocanonical texts within the canon. Not one single source from this period articulates the Protestant canon. ¹⁸ Following the Reformation, before the first generation of Reformers had died, the alleged black-from-white clarity regarding which books belong in the canon also failed to produce universal agreement. ¹⁹ These cases from history are evidence that the Reformed answer to the Canon Question does not provide a reliable method for determining the canon. This is deeply problematic, since assurance in the canon is the foundation of the sola scriptura paradigm.

Part in parcel with Calvin’s view that the Holy Spirit testifies in our hearts to the veracity of the canon, Calvin rejects the essential role of the Church in identifying the canon. In his Institutes, he starts with the proposition that Scripture obtains its authority directly from God, and not from the Church:

But a most pernicious error widely prevails that Scripture has only so much weight as is conceded to it by the consent of the church. . . . For they mock the Holy Spirit when they ask: Who can convince us that these writings came from God? . . . . Who can persuade us to receive one book in reverence but to exclude another, unless the church prescribe a sure rule for all these matters?²⁰

As an initial matter, Calvin misstates the Catholic position by stating that, according to the Catholic Church, Scripture has its authoritative weight accorded to it by the Church. Rather, the Catholic position is that Scripture has divine authority because it is God-breathed, the Holy Spirit having inspired the texts’ authors. That is, Scripture has divine authority because of its divine author, not because of the role of God’s Church in producing it. As the Catholic Church decreed during the First Vatican Council:

These [73] books the Church holds to be sacred and canonical not because she subsequently approved them by her authority after they had been composed by unaided human skill, nor simply because they contain revelation without error, but because, being written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they have God as their author, and were as such committed to the Church.²¹

This belief is reflected also in the dogmatic work Dei Verbum, written by Pope Paul VI in 1965:

Those divinely revealed realities which are contained and presented in Sacred Scripture have been committed to writing under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. For holy mother Church, relying on the belief of the Apostles (see John 20:31; 2 Tim. 3:16; 2 Peter 1:19-20, 3:15-16), holds that the books of both the Old and New Testament in their entirety, with all their parts, are sacred and canonical because written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, they have God as their author and have been handed on as such to the Church herself.²²

These texts prove that the Catholic Church does not maintain that the Scriptures have only so much weight as is accorded to them by the Catholic Church. Rather, as the Catholic Church explains, the authority of the Scriptures derives from their being written under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, with God as their author.

Furthermore, regarding Calvin’s view of the relationship between the Church and Scripture, he merely asserts, but does not demonstrate, that the Catholic Church’s position would mock the Holy Spirit. He claims to find such mocking in the belief that one cannot be persuaded to receive one book and exclude another without the Church prescribing a sure rule. Why would the Church’s prescribing a “sure rule” for knowing Scripture be a mockery of the Holy Spirit? Because for Calvin, our obtaining assurances from the Church would necessarily exclude obtaining assurances from the Holy Spirit. This is because, as shown in the quotation from Calvin cited above, he has created a false dichotomy between the Church and the Holy Spirit. For him, these two sources of assurance cannot work in a confluent way. For obvious reasons, once one accepts this dichotomy, one comes to favor the Holy Spirit option, making the option of seeing the Church as a source of assurance a mockery.

Calvin’s rhetorical question: “Who can persuade us to receive one book in reverence but to exclude another, unless the church prescribe a sure rule for all these matters?” also misstates the Catholic teaching. The Catholic Church does not claim that a person cannot be persuaded to receive or exclude a book without the Church prescribing a sure rule. One could accept or reject a book without the benefit of a “sure rule” from the Church, as occurred throughout the early Church. Rather, apart from Magisterial guidance concerning the canon, it would be exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, for all believers independently to come to complete agreement about the canon without each believer receiving miraculous enlightenment from the Holy Spirit. Christ has given authority to the Magisterium in such a way that grace builds on nature. That is, the visible government of the Church, being guided by the Holy Spirit, does not nullify, but fulfills, our natural need for visible government in the supernatural society that is the Church. But, the Church and the Holy Spirit do work together to assure us of the scriptural canon. As St. Augustine said, “I would not have believed the gospel, unless the authority of the Church had induced me.” ²³

Calvin next argues that the Church itself is grounded upon Scripture, and not the other way around:

But such wranglers are neatly refuted by just one word of the apostle. He testifies that the church is “built upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles.” If the teaching of the prophets and apostles is the foundation, this must have had authority before the church began to exist. ²⁴

Note the significance of Calvin’s addition of the word “teaching” to his restatement of Ephesians. But St. Paul actually says that the Church is built on the foundation of the prophets and the apostles themselves. For Calvin, a teaching has authority, not the teacher. He treats Paul’s statement that the Church is “built upon the foundation of the prophets and apostles” as referring to a set of teachings, not any persons.

Calvin’s whole doctrine of Scripture revolves around this insertion of the word “teaching” into St. Paul’s statement to the Ephesians, and upon seeing the teacher as having authority derived from the teaching only insofar as he holds to that teaching. But it is the prophets and apostles themselves who were given divine authority. Consider Matthew 7:29, in which we are told that Jesus “taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes.” Jesus taught as one ‘with authority,’ not as one ‘with words with authority.’ Words of law do not have authority in isolation from their source, but are authoritative because of their relationship to their source. For example, the U.S. Constitution is not authoritative apart from its source, but represents the authority of the People who promulgated it. Likewise, the words of the Bible are authoritative because of their relation to their authors, especially their divine Author. The Church is not founded upon these words, the teachings of prophets and apostles, but upon the prophets and apostles themselves based on their divine authority. Because of the prophets’ and apostles’ divine authorization, we can know the teaching they transmitted to be divine in origin.

Further Refinement of Self-Attestation:

In his work, Redemptive History and the New Testament Scriptures, theologian Herman Ridderbos provides a modern Reformed articulation of the confessional view. In line with Calvin, he argues that canonical texts are self-attesting (or self-witnessing) to the reader who is aided through faith by the Holy Spirit to see Scripture for what it is. ²⁵ Ridderbos also issues a noteworthy critique of the various proposed Protestant criteria of canonicity other than the classical Reformed position. He sees these as little or no better than the Catholic view, which, he says, effectively places the Church over Scripture, because they too put something over Scripture. He explains:

For no New Testament writing is there a certificate issued either by Christ or by the apostles that guarantees its canonicity, and we know nothing of a special revelation or voice from heaven that gave divine approval to the collection of the twenty-seven books in question. Every attempt to find an a posteriori element to justify the canon, whether in the doctrinal authority or in the gradually developing consensus of the church, goes beyond the canon itself, posits a canon above the canon, and thereby comes into conflict with the order of redemptive history and the nature of the canon itself.²⁶

In this context, Ridderbos uses a priori to mean knowledge that has nothing but the canon as its starting point. His claim, then, is that if any part of a canon test depends on something outside of the canon (what he calls “a posteriori” elements)–for example, on the consensus of the Church–this explanation has placed some extra-Biblical authority “above” the canon. Within the framework of sola scriptura, this is a commendably logical observation. If Scripture is the sole infallible authority of the faith, and everything else is subordinate in authority to Scripture, then the basis for determining the canon cannot be any authority but Scripture. The working principle here is that an authority is only as authoritative as that on which it is founded. Each of the criteria listed below within the remainder of section II, most of which Ridderbos takes up with particularity, falls prey to this claim. Lessons of history, use by Hebrew-speaking Jews of the time of Christ, prophetic and apostolic authority, and the like–each of these involve criteria by which a text is judged to be canonical that is extra-canonical, so goes beyond the canon itself, and thus posits a canon above the canon.

Here is Ridderbos’s riddle then, which he believes Calvin’s view has solved: how can we determine the canon, which does not fall from Heaven, without relying on extra-canonical evidence? Riddberos sees the need to avoid the use of extra-canonical evidence, because doing so would, under the Calvinist assumption, place the confirming evidence over the canon, which would violate sola scriptura. Given Calvin’s assumption, Ridderbos needs to find evidence for the contents of the canon that is located in or derived from the canon itself. Ridderbos sees the Reformed answer to both the riddle he presents and the Canon Question this way:

Reformed theologians do not justify the acceptance of the canon by appealing to a “canon within the canon.” Nor do they appeal to its recognition by the church or to the experience of faith or to a recurring, actualistic understanding of the Word of God as canon. . . .

. . .

Calvin appealed not only to the witness of the Holy Spirit in the hearts of believers but above all to the self-attestation of the Scriptures. The divine character of the Bible itself gives it its authority This divine character is so evident that anyone who has eyes to see is directly convinced and does not need the mediation of the church. . . . [As] Karl Barth wrote, ‘The Bible makes itself to be canon.’

Corresponding to this objective principle of the self-attestation of Scripture, from its inception Reformed theology has expressly distinguished the subjective principle of the testimonium Spiritus Sancti. . . . He opens blind eyes to the divine light that shines in the Scriptures. Later Reformed theology has correctly emphasized the fact that the internal witness of the Spirit is not the basis for but the means by which the canon of Scripture is recognized and accepted as the indubitable Word of God.²⁷

From this we see that his view consists of two elements: (1) that Scripture is self-attesting, (2) via the Holy Spirit leading the reader to recognize it as canonical. ²⁸ The first element, if taken on its own, would certainly answer Ridderbos’s riddle. If some quality of Scripture allows it to attest to its own canonicity, then there is no need to resort to evidence that is external to Scripture in order to define Scripture. ²⁹ Thus, nothing is placed “above” the canon, leaving Scripture as our final authority. The second element also plays a vital role; it explains why it is not the case that the entire world recognizes Scripture’s own attestations, why the world does not see the black from the white. In Ridderbos’s own terms, the first element of the test of canonicity is objective and the second element is subjective.

But prior to Calvin, the Church never used this method to recognize a book as belonging to the canon. The Church recognized books as canonical on the basis of their having been inspired by the Holy Spirit. ³⁰ In its process of identifying which books possessed this quality, the Church never employed a private, individualistic means. Instead, it relied upon councils of the Church confirmed by the Bishop of Rome. ³¹ Again, as one cannot legitimately defend the canon with arguments which played no part in its original formation, Calvin’s novel elements cannot explain how Church reached its present canon. ³²

Also, the subjective aspect of Ridderbos’s theory renders the entire test too subjective to be reliable. This is because each text’s objective quality, self-attestation, is only evident to an observer to the extent that he subjectively experiences the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit. Just as a building cannot be more sturdy than its foundation, the Reformed answer to the Canon Question is no more objective than its most subjective part. Here, the objective quality is not merely supported or enhanced by the subjective, but is entirely dependent upon it. Using the Reformed frame, if two people disagree in their view of which texts are (objectively) self-attesting as Scripture, they can only settle their disagreement by calling into question the degree to which (subjectively) the Holy Spirit is testifying in their interlocutor’s heart. In this way the classical Reformed theory is too subjective to be a reliable basis for assuring believers which texts belong in the Bible.

That the Reformed test is too subjective to be reliable because new Christians considering candidate texts would not reach the same conclusion when applying it, has already been discussed above. This also appears from the views of Luther himself. Remember that according to Ridderbos, the objective element of the Bible’s “divine character [is] so evident that anyone who has eyes to see is directly convinced and does not need the mediation of the church.” ³³ But Luther’s subjective interpretation of the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit regarding Scripture led him, at least at times in his life, to some different conclusions than Calvin about certain of our New Testament books. ³⁴ Neither was Luther alone in his day in doubting the canonicity of certain New Testament works.

Calvin knew of and addressed conflicting conclusions about the canon in the introductions to his commentaries on Hebrews, James, 2 Peter, and Jude. In one instance Calvin called into question which spirit was working in the doubters’ heart. In his argument for the inclusion of the book of Hebrews in the canon, Calvin says, “I, indeed, without hesitation, class [Hebrews] among apostolical writings; nor do I doubt but that it has been through the craft of Satan that any have been led to dispute its authority.” ³⁵ Calvin is explaining that Satan undoubtedly is involved in a case where some are denying what he finds to be canonical. We see that under the classical Reformed view, in a case of dispute, a failed meetings of the minds on what is self-attesting is explained at the subjective level.

What of the reply that since all Protestants agree on the canon, this is evidence that these 66 books properly comprise the canon, objectively reached? First, the premise that all Protestants agree on the canon is false. The classical Lutheran position does not agree with the Reformed view of the canon, in that Lutheranism creates a canon-within-a-canon, relegating some books to a secondary place. This position distinguishes a homologouna from an antilegomena, i.e., never-disputed books from disputed books such as Jude and Revelation. Unlike the Reformed canon, which is a proper source for the formation of dogma in its entirety, only the never-disputed books may be used for the defintion of dogma within a classical Lutheran view. ³⁶ Further, to the extent that Protestants see themselves as lineal descendants of pre-Reformational proto-Protestants, it cannot be said that “Protestants” have agreed on the canon throughout the Church’s history. As I discuss elsewhere, many biblical texts have been rejected at one time or another by various Church Fathers. Finally, widespread agreement amongst today’s Protestants does not disprove the objective canonical quality of the deuterocanonical books since the vast majority of Protestants have never read them. Today’s average Protestant does not study why he has the Protestant 66-book canon, and does not independently decide if the Bible handed to him is correct. Rather, he accepts as an a priori of his Protestant faith that the 66-book canon is correct. Belief that the 66-book canon is right is part and parcel with the small cluster of unifying evangelical Protestant beliefs. Since it is a unifying principle for most Protestants, we would hardly expect to see anything but universal agreement; thus we can draw no lessons about the canon from this widespread agreement.

With Ridderbos’s answer to the Canon Question, we have no way of knowing whether the Holy Spirit is permitting a reader to recognize a text as canonical, or is simply permitting a reader falsely to perceive it as Scripture. We cannot tell since we would necessarily have to appeal to Ridderbos’s subjective element in order to know which of these actions the Holy Spirit is engaged in when, for example, He permits Catholics to recognize the deuterocanonical texts as Divine. If the Holy Spirit is simply permitting Catholics falsely to perceive them as Scripture, as Protestants must maintain, then Protestants have no objective criteria by which to distinguish this act of the Holy Spirit from cases in which He is permitting readers to recognize a text as canonical. And such a test is surely a kind of ad hoc opportunism in which it is claimed that the Holy Spirit is doing whatever I am doing, even if many others are doing many things contrary to what I am doing.

To resolve the disputes that lingered in spite of his supposedly objective test, Calvin employed a potpourri of fall-back arguments to shore up his teaching that the Holy Spirit allows a reader to perceive directly what belongs to the canon of Scripture. According to Ridderbos, Calvin distinguished Scripture from what did not belong to Scripture, “not simply by appealing to the witness of the Holy Spirit as some infallible, inward arbitrator, but he appealed to the fact that the authority of those books has been recognized from the church’s inception, that they contain nothing unworthy of an apostle of Christ, and that the majesty of the Spirit of Christ is everywhere apparent in them.” ³⁷ Thus he utilizes four different factors, culled from reason and not revelation, to settle the disputes in favor of his ‘objective’ conclusions. ³⁸ Calvin is not alone in finding the need for supplemental arguments to support the supposedly objective, self-attesting, black-from-white criterion for determining the canon. The renowned 20th-century Reformed theologian F. F. Bruce, in employing his own supplemental arguments, said that “[i]t is unlikely . . . that the Spirit’s witness would enable a reader to discern that Ecclesiastes is the word of God while Ecclesiasticus is not.”³⁹

This ‘appeal to external facts’ reveals something about Reformed thinkers’ discomfort with relying too heavily on the supposedly objective self-attestation method of discerning the canon. This ‘appeal to external facts’ also is in tension with Calvin’s and Ridderbos’s position that sees using evidence outside of Scripture to determine Scripture as effectively placing that evidence over Scripture, and Calvin’s potpourri use of fall-back argumentation. ⁴⁰ Calvin, in using reason and historical proof to determine the canon (for example, by appealing to “those books” that have “been recognized [as canonical] from the church’s inception”), is either contradicting his principle that no evidence outside of Scripture can determine the canon, or is refining his principle in an ad hoc fashion.

But without the external appeal, Calvin’s position is left only with the two elements mentioned above: self-attestation and the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit. However, as we have seen, the self-attestation element effectively collapses into the subjective element–the inward testimony of the Holy Spirit–when faced with disagreements about the canon. Because what then remains is too subjective a test to yield a single canon if put before a hypothetical test group of new faith-filled Christians, it cannot bind us to a single set of texts as certainly belonging in the Bible.

B. THE ORIGINAL HEBREW OLD TESTAMENT:

Another Protestant answer to the Canon Question, used either as an independent criterion of canonicity or as a supplement to other criteria, holds that the canon of the Old Testament is that which originally was in use by Hebrew-speaking Jews. The timeframe of this hypothetical ‘original’ canon will go back as far as the historical evidence will support the idea of a closed Hebrew canon. Dr. Harris, a noted Reformed Old Testament scholar, put forward this view in an extensive treatment of Old Testament history in his book Inspiration and Canonicity of the Scriptures.⁴¹

Starting with a discussion of the Hebrew manuscripts in use amongst modern biblical Scholars, Harris states: “Our English Old Testament depends largely on medieval Hebrew manuscripts from about A.D. 900 and following. These Hebrew manuscripts contain our familiar 39 Old Testaments books.” ⁴² He then attempts to proceed back through history, as early as can be traced, to determine the original Hebrew canon. The Babylonian Talmud lists the Hebrew books accepted in about A.D. 200, the time of its writing. These align with the 39 Protestant books of the Old Testament. ⁴³ Harris also presents a litany of early Christian writers who discussed Hebrew canons quite similar to the 39-book Protestant Old Testament. ⁴⁴

A test of canonicity that relies on such extra-Biblical evidence as what the Jews of A.D. 200 (or any other time) accepted as canonical falls subject to the critique of Ridderbos, noted above. ⁴⁵ Without biblical warrant to craft such a test, it remains extra-Biblical. Therefore, its application would be a canon above the canon and thus violate sola scriptura according to Ridderbos’s criteria. A major problem with this canon theory is that it grants to the Jewish leaders of Jesus’ day an authority which, it claims, if possessed by the Church, would undermine the authority of Scripture. But it would be ad hoc to allow a Jewish magisterial authority to determine the canon while claiming that a determination of the canon by way of Catholic magisterial authority would undermine the authority of Scripture.

The ‘Original Hebrew’ Canon:

Setting aside its extra-biblicality and focusing on its application, the ‘Original Hebrew Canon’ answer to the Canon Question leads to additional problems.

First, there is no historical basis to conclude that any one Jewish group had the authority to pronounce and close the canon for other Jewish groups, or that any one of them could conclude the canon for Christianity. While there was a body of Scribes sitting “in the chair of Moses” who may have had the authority to rule on the contents of, and eventually to close, the canon of the Old Testament, the fact remains that differing groups of Jews at the time of the founding of Christianity accepted different canons. ⁴⁶ Harris admits that the Essenes probably accepted for their canon, in addition to the generally accepted texts, “other books written by members of their own sect.” ⁴⁷ While Harris and Bruce reject claims from within academia that the Sadducees accepted only the Pentateuch as canonical,⁴⁸ Bruce goes on to explain that the Samaritans held exactly that belief: “As for the Samaritans, their Bible was restricted to the Pentateuch⁴⁹.”

The Diaspora Jews, on the other hand, used the Greek Septuagint, which included the deuterocanonical texts as well as some apocryphal texts. ⁵⁰ Harris dismisses this problem by denying that history can prove that the canon used by Jews of the Diaspora (what Harris calls the Alexandrian canon) included the deuterocanonical texts:

That our present Septuagint copies have a variant canon really proves nothing about the Alexandrian canon of A.D. 50 much less the Alexandrian canon of around 200 B.C., when the Septuagint was translated, for in those vital centuries there were three major factors which surely affected such questions.⁵¹

What follows is Harris’s explanation of how it might have come to pass that the modern Septuagint does not match the earlier Septuagintal canon, which presumably would have matched the ‘original Hebrew canon’ that Harris is pursuing. Firstly, says Harris, the temple was destroyed in A.D. 70, but until that time “the canon would naturally be defined at Jerusalem for all the Jewish world.” ⁵² In other words, while the views of dispersed Jews are not authoritative in determining the Old Testament canon because of their distance from the Jewish center of gravity, for Harris, the views of those Jews in the Holy City are binding. Harris does not expand his claim beyond opining that the canon “naturally” would have come from Jerusalem. Harris does not show that the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem decided anything regarding the deuterocanonical texts prior to AD 90. He does not show that they formally made a conclusion regarding the canon that was binding on all Jews.

No authority within Scripture, and no argument from reason, requires Christians to abide by the speculative conclusions of the first-century Pharisaic leaders from Jerusalem, some of the very ones who had Christ put to death. The definitive reason why the Septuagint was accepted by the Church is because it was accepted by the Apostles. Even if the non-Christian Jews of A.D. 40 had ruled against the Septuagint, that would not in any way change its acceptance by the Church. After all, the authority for the Church flows from Christ to His Apostles, not to the determinations of non-Christian Jewish leaders.

Secondly, Harris argues, early “Christians throughout the Roman Empire naturally used the Greek, as the New Testament language evidences. They therefore naturally appealed to the Greek Old Testament,” while the “Jews in self-defense argued that some of the Messianic passages were mistranslated.” ⁵³ The “Jews retreated into the Hebrew while the Christians took over the Septuagint.” ⁵⁴ Along these same lines, Bruce notes the Jewish disdain for the Christians’ thorough appropriation of the Septuagint: “the Jews became increasingly disenchanted with it. The time came when one rabbi compared ‘the accursed day on which the seventy elders wrote the Law in Greek for the king’ to the day on which Israel made the golden calf.” ⁵⁵

Why, then, as Harris implies, is the opinion of the non-converting Jews more reliable than the opinion of those who converted to Christ and widely used the Greek Septuagint? For Harris, the answer is because “the Christians did not have the regulative effect of ancient history to help them retain a proper view of the canon.” ⁵⁶ By this, he means that early Christians lost their grounding in Hebrew tradition, and thus lost the guiding benefits this tradition would have provided. Here we have a striking statement from Harris. He must believe that the “regulative effect of ancient history” (that is, tradition) could maintain the non-Christian Jews in truth about the canon, while the “regulative effect” of the Holy Spirit did not preserve the Church from the grave error of canonizing spurious texts. There are important presuppositions implicit in Harris’s position. He views the first century Church with the eye of an ecclesial deist, meaning he does not see God as actively protecting the Church from error. ⁵⁷ It is as if, for Harris, either the Apostles had no authority to determine for the Church what is her Old Testament Canon, or the Christians of the first century already had departed from what the Apostles had declared to be the authoritative Old Testament canon. For whatever reason, Harris believes that the early Christians were not guided by tradition, while the non-Christian Jews were.

The rapid and ubiquitous way in which Christians made use of the Septuagint is more reason, not less, to trust its contents. These Christians’ use of the Septuagint indicates their conviction that it was authentically divine, and therefore authoritative. Absent the doubts of ecclesial deism, the widespread use of the Septuagint by first-century Christians reveals not only that this was the Old Testament of the early Church, but also that it therefore remains authoritative today.

Harris’s third point about the Septuagintal canon is that, with the advent of the codex (i.e., bound book) replacing the scroll, early Christians found the need to fill up the scores of empty pages of valuable paper in their bound Bibles. To do this, Harris argues, they “[n]aturally” would “fill it with helpful devotional material.” ⁵⁸ This, he concludes, led to a conflation of helpful books with scared books. The extent of Harris’s historical evidence for his view is that it seems to him the only plausible explanation for these texts’ survival in spite of a lack of support from the early Church Fathers.

First, Harris is wrong about an absence of support from the early Church in favor of the Septuagint. He asserts that “from considerable testimony of the first four centuries,” the “Apocryphal books were not then received into the canon of the Christian church.” After repeating the views of Origen and Melito in favor of the Jewish rendering of the Old Testament canon, he goes so far as to say that “[t]he single voice of antiquity in favor of the Apocrypha is that of Augustine and the Councils of Hippo (A.D. 393) and Carthage (397).” ⁵⁹ But Harris had just stated that there were some uses of Baruch by the fathers, and some other exclusions of Esther. ⁶⁰ Further, Origen’s own canon was not the same as the Protestant canon, as Harris also admits. Origen argues at length against Africanus regarding the validity of Susanna, and he also confirms Tobit and Judith:

Where you get your “lost and won at play, and thrown out unburied on the streets,” I know not, unless it is from Tobias; and Tobias (as also Judith), we ought to notice, the Jews do not use. They are not even found in the Hebrew Apocrypha, as I learned from the Jews themselves. However, since the Churches use Tobias, you must know that even in the captivity some of the captives were rich and well to do. ⁶¹

We see from Origen’s support for Tobias, as well as from the fathers who supported the inclusion of Baruch, that Augustine and the Councils of Hippo and Carthage were not alone in antiquity in favoring the inclusion of deuterocanonical texts. It is also unlikely that two councils of the early church–Hippo and Carthage, A.D. 393 and 397 respectively–would draw within their list of sacred books what had to that point been universally rejected. If even a majority of the Church’s leaders had rejected those books, their inclusion in the canon by St. Augustine (b. 354) and the North African councils would have created an uproar. But history records no such reaction. For this reason, Harris’s claim that with “one voice,” “all the important witnesses in the early church to about A.D. 400 . . . insist that the strict Jewish canon is the only one to be received with full credence”⁶² is false, as Bruce agrees. Bruce sees that the Councils of Hippo and Carthage “did not impose any innovation on the churches; they simply endorsed what had become the general consensus of the churches of the west and of the greater part of the east.” ⁶³ So widely held was the belief in the deuterocanonical books, that Bruce writes, “[i]n 405 Pope Innocent I embodied a list of canonical books in a letter addressed to Exsuperius, bishop of Toulouse; it too included the Apocrypha.” ⁶⁴

Second, even if there was an absence of support from the early Church in favor of the Septuagintal texts, as Harris claims, Harris does not give any reason to rule out the possibility that the Holy Spirit preserved these texts and guided the Church to include them. Harris implicitly presumes that the Holy Spirit did not act this way in the early Church, and instead offers the speculation that these books exist because they were filling in empty pages. This speculation or hypothesis has no more support than the deisitic assumption of the Holy Spirit’s non-intervention upon which it is based. Rather, the Septuagintal texts’ early appearance in the Church, opposition-less acceptance, and widespread propagation by Christians lead to the conclusion that these very Jewish books had been in use by Alexandrian Jews. The evidence I have provided here indicates that, at the time of Christ, Samaritan, Essene, and Alexandrian Jews used a canon different from the 39-book Protestant canon. Even the rabbis at Jamnia, who famously debated in the year A.D. 90 about which books were prophetic, gave the opinion that Ezekial should be “withdrawn.” ⁶⁵

As I have shown, Harris’s claim that there was an absence of support from the early Church is based on a weak hypothesis, and fails to account for contrary evidence. His historical claim that there was nothing but a single voice from antiquity favoring the inclusion of the deuterocanonical texts is demonstrably incorrect. His arguments to explain the eventual inclusion of deuterocanonical texts in Christian use–that they filled empty space in Biblical scrolls; that the Greek Septuagint that supported them lacked the regulative effect of Jewish tradition; and that the original Septuagint from before the temple’s destruction would have matched what the first-century Pharisaic leaders from Jerusalem used–are based on unreliable speculation and give undue regard for Jewish tradition. It remains that a major problem for the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory is the lack of historical basis to conclude that any one Jewish group had the authority to pronounce and close the canon for other Jewish groups, or that any one of them could close the canon for Christianity.

The second reason that the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory fails to answer the Canon Question is that it simply pushes back the question. By what criterion was the original Hebrew canon determined? Unless the answer to this deeper question can objectively produce a complete list of books belonging to the Old Testament canon, the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory cannot be our criterion for determining the Old Testament canon. One theory Harris considers is that the Jews accepted as canonical those texts which were written by Prophets.⁶⁶ However, as he notes, six books in the Old Testament are of unknown authorship: Judges, Ruth, Ezra, Nehemiah, Esther, and Job. He takes comfort that “[n]ot only is it true that it cannot be shown that these books were not written by prophets, there is some evidence that they were.” ⁶⁷ But if the test of canonicity that the Jews applied was ‘prophetic origin,’ then either these books were known to be prophetic, or were prematurely canonized, since their authorship was unknown. Harris later states that the “Books of Chronicles, Ezra, Nehemiah and Esther are more problematical [than Job]. . . . We cannot prove that Ezra, Nehemiah and the author of Esther (Mordecai?) were prophets.” ⁶⁸ Harris believes, and I think reasonably, that the books must have been known to be prophetic when treated as Scripture, even if the authors’ identities are not known to us today. But if this is our defense of the canon, we are left once again relying on Jewish tradition in the formation of canon. And if we are relying on Jewish tradition, then we have no reason not to accept the tradition of the Alexandrian Jews who accepted the deuterocanonical texts. Because looking for the ‘works written by Prophets’ does not objectively produce a list of Old Testament scriptures, it does not answer the Canon Question.

Concerning whether the deuterocanonical books meet the ‘written by Prophets’ test, Harris rejects them first on an historical ground: [t]hey were all composed after the period when prophecy was recognized to have departed from Israel. ⁶⁹ But he does not state by whom prophecy was “recognized to have departed from Israel.”

There is no non-Christian authority who can establish this claim for Christians and the Church. There are only competing claims from an uncertain and distant period in history. Even if it is possible that, as a matter of history, the Jews in Christ’s time believed that the canon was closed before the deuterocanonical texts were written, there is no evidence that the Jews had made any such determination prior to the time of Christ, or even prior to Jamnia. Neither the majority, the Pharisees, those in Jerusalem, or some other group had the authority to do so for Christians. Were they to have made a conclusion on the canon, it would have been no more binding on the Christian than is their belief that Jesus of Nazareth is not the Christ.

Finally, the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory must be rejected because not one of the early Church Fathers who were in favor of using the extant Hebrew text certainly pointed to the 39-book Protestant Old Testament. Among the early Church Fathers used by Harris to support his theory that the early Church sought the ‘original Hebrew’ to determine the proper canon are Jerome and Origen. Jerome, as is well known, made certain observations in the prefaces to his translations of certain deuterocanonical texts indicating his opinion that the Jews rejected them as non-canonical. But even granting the widely recognized authority of St. Jerome, his concerns about the deuterocanonical books do not indicate that the Church of his day accepted only the 39 books of the Protestant Old Testament.

Ultimately, Jerome explicitly stated his acceptance of the Church’s Old Testament over and against the opinion of the Hebrew scholars under whom he had studied. For example, in his preface to Tobias, he says:

For the studies of the Hebrews rebuke us and find fault with us, to translate this for the ears of Latins contrary to their canon. But it is better to be judging the opinion of the Pharisees to displease and to be subject to the commands of bishops.⁷⁰

His clear conviction is to be subject to the ruling of a Catholic bishop as opposed to the conclusions of Jewish Hebrew scholars. This same conviction appears in Jerome’s prolouge to Judith. There he states:

Among the Hebrews the Book of Judith is found among the Hagiographa, the authority of which toward confirming those which have come into contention is judged less appropriate. Yet having been written in Chaldean words, it is counted among the histories. But because this book is found by the Nicene Council to have been counted among the number of the Sacred Scriptures, I have acquiesced to your request, indeed demand.⁷¹

Clearer still is Jerome’s work Against Rufinus. In it he writes:

What sin have I committed if I followed the judgment of the churches? But he who brings charges against me for relating the objections that the Hebrews are wont to raise against the story of Susanna, the Son of the Three Children, and the story of Bel and the Dragon, which are not found in the Hebrew volume, proves that he is just a foolish sycophant. For I was not relating my own personal views, but rather the remarks that they [the Jews] are wont to make against us.”⁷²

From this we see clearly that Jerome, for all his studies with Hebrew scholars, did not hold to a 39-book Old Testament canon that matches the Protestant canon. In each of the three instances I have given, we see what Jerome’s actual test of canonicity was: that which matched the Church’s determination of the canon. Harris’s heavy reliance upon Jerome to support the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory, therefore, is badly misplaced.

Origen, upon whom Harris also relies, while apparently a proponent of the “true Hebrew” texts, did not teach what is now the Protestant Old Testament canon. ⁷³ Origen excludes the twelve minor prophets from his own listing. Harris explains this conflict with his canon theory by speculating that the omission was merely an oversight by Origen.⁷⁴ But even if it were a scholarly error to leave out the Minor Prophets while listing the Hebrews’ canon as Origen understood it, Origen included in his listing the Letter of Jeremiah, a text from the Septuagint that is not part of the Palestinian Hebrew canon. ⁷⁵ Bruce similarly explains this inconsistency with the Protestant Old Testament by speculating that Origen’s inclusion was by oversight. This use of one’s pre-existing conclusions to determine what must be “oversight” and what must be accurate scholarship is the kind of post hoc rationalization to which I referred earlier. Only by painting the target around one’s arrow, rather than making judgments in a principled way, can one use Jerome and Origen in defense of the Protestant Old Testament canon.

Harris next examines the works of Melito, a second-century Bishop who travelled to Palestine to record the Hebrew canon. ⁷⁶ However, he too does not record a Hebrew canon aligning with the 39-book Protestant canon. Specifically, Melito omits the book of Esther. ⁷⁷ In fact, concerning Harris’s strong claims of universal use by the early Church Fathers of the Hebrew-now-Protestant Old Testament, there is an abundance of contrary evidence. Athanasius includes Baruch and the deuterocanonical additions to Daniel. ⁷⁸ Cyril includes Baruch and the Letter of Jeremiah, and excludes Esther. ⁷⁹ Gregory of Nazianzus omits Esther. ⁸⁰ Amphilochies notes of his fellow scholars that only “some include Esther.” ⁸¹ Epiphanius includes the Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach. ⁸² Theodore of Mopsuestia denies the divine inspiration of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes,⁸³ as well as Job, Song of Songs, and Ezra⁸⁴. Tertullian, who accepted “the whole instrument of Jewish literature,” and who gives the impression that he knows exactly what it contains, uses an Old Testament that is “evidently co-extensive with the Septuagint (including the ‘Septuagintal plus’).” ⁸⁵ He accepted Wisdom, the Letter of Jeremiah, and the Greek ‘additions’ to Daniel as authentic. ⁸⁶

Esther is a particularly difficult case for the advocate of the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory to make from history. Of all the Old Testament books that the Church Fathers variously excluded from the lists of Old Testament books, Esther is the book most commonly omitted. Further, all of the Old Testament books, or fragments from them, have been found in the Dead Sea scrolls except Esther. ⁸⁷ Full or fragmentary portions of Tobit, Jubilees, and Enoch have also been found amongst the Dead Sea scrolls. ⁸⁸

Harris’s theory, that the Hebrew canon both matched the Protestant 39-book Old Testament and was used by the Church until Augustine came around, does not fit with the historical evidence. In fact, while there was no universal consensus among the early Church Fathers about the complete list of divinely inspired Hebrew books, there was a consensus among them that certain deuterocanonical Septuagintal (Greek) texts must necessarily be included. So widely was this held, Bruce writes, that:

Jerome’s dependence on Jewish instructors increased the suspicion of some of his Christian critics who were put off in any case by such an innovation as a translation of the sacred writings from Hebrew (with its implied disparagement of the divinely-inspired Septuagint). ⁸⁹

The translation from ancient Hebrew biblical texts was mistrusted, while the Greek Septuagint was seen as divinely inspired. As we have already seen, the Septuagint contained deuterocanonical texts as well as the 39 books of the Protestant Old Testament. Therefore, Harris is not right on both points, namely, that the Hebrew canon around the time of Christ matched the Protestant Old Testament and that the Hebrew canon was the Old Testament canon used by the Church until Augustine’s time.

Accepted by the New Testament:

Finally, Harris says, we can use the New Testament itself as historical evidence of what texts should be in the Old Testament canon. ⁹⁰ He argues that the books of the Old Testament were referenced in the New by Christ and the Apostles, and thus we can be certain of their canonicity: “Christ and the apostles have authenticated for us the thirty-nine Old Testament books and strictly avoided the seven Apocrypha.” ⁹¹ Harris supports this claim by noting that the New Testament “cites almost all of the Old Testament books, often by name.” ⁹²

One problem with that claim is that the New Testament also cites “scripture” whose referent we cannot even identify. To give an example, “[w]e have no idea what ‘the scripture’ is which says, according to James 4:5, ‘He yearns jealously over the spirit which he has made to dwell in us.’” ⁹³ If the criterion of the Old Testament canon is ‘that which the New Testament treats as Scripture,’ then we have here a grave problem, for in that case our Old Testament canon is incomplete. Also, the New Testament is full of themes and even direct phraseology from the deuterocanon. While there are dozens of these uses, here are two short examples. ⁹⁴ The mention in Revelation 1:4 of the seven angels petitioning before the Throne in Heaven is a reference to Tobit 12:15: “I am Raphael, one of the seven angels who enter and serve before the Glory of the Lord.” Similarly, Jesus’s reference to the “gates of hell” in Matthew 16:18 may be a reference to Wisdom 16:13: “For you have dominion over life and death; you lead down to the gates of the nether world, and lead back.” Careful examination of the Septuagint shows that Christ and the Apostles did not “strictly avoid” the seven deuterocanonical books.

In addition to the New Testament citation of “scripture” that is now lost, and the many references from the New Testament to deuterocanonical texts, the ‘adopted by the New Testament’ canon criterion faces one other major flaw. Judges, Ruth, Esther, Ecclesiastes and the Song of Songs are not cited in the New Testament, and so would fail to satisfy this criterion of canonicity and drop from our canon. Harris states that they are probably omitted from the New Testament “because of their brevity.” ⁹⁵ But this is no assurance of the propriety of including these five books, and no assurance of the propriety of excluding from the New Testament other brief texts circulated in Hebrew before or at the time of Christ.

If we develop from reason the canon rule that the New Testament’s use of Old Testament texts canonizes them, then we could similarly develop a rule canonizing these texts in the same form in which Christ and the Apostles used them. That is, if the New Testament’s acceptance of Old Testament texts instructs us about which texts we are to include in the Old Testament canon, then certainly its use of the Septuagint should be instructive regarding the authenticity and authority of the Septuagint, in the eyes of the early Church. According to Catholics United for the Faith, 86 percent of the New Testament quotes of the Old Testament are from the Greek Septuagint. ⁹⁶ If the Apostles had believed that the Septuagint contained uninspired texts, it seems that the Apostles would not have used it as their source of Scripture in composing the New Testament texts. But the Apostles did use the Septuagint in their teaching and writing. Therefore, the Apostles believed that the Septuaginal collection was the authoritative source of Scripture of the Old Covenant. It is ad hoc to acknowledge that Jesus and the Apostles treated the Septuagint as the written word of God, but then to deny tout court the canonicity of the books included in the Septuagint. We can imagine that if Christ lived in a time and place where the King James Bible was available, His use of it would be taken today by English Protestants as a divine seal on its canon. Bruce reaches an unsupported conclusion to get around this problem:

When we think of Jesus and his Palestinian apostles, then, we may be confident that they agreed with contemporary leaders in Israel about the contents of the canon. We cannot say confidently that they accepted Esther, Ecclesiastes or the Song of Songs as scripture, because evidence is not available. ⁹⁷

But there is no indication from history that the Jewish leaders in Israel at that time had rejected the deuterocanonical texts. As said above, we know that the New Testament authors–who, prior to the establishment of the New Covenant, would have been obedient to the Jewish leaders–widely used the Septuagint when they quoted the Old Testament. And, as also has been said, the Septuagint contained the deuterocanon as well as other texts beyond the the 39 books of the Protestant Old Testament. There is no evidence that there was an immediate change at the time of Christ’s death and resurrection among the Apostles in the use of the Septuagint. If they widely used it when quoting the Old Testament, then without such an immediate change, it seems to follow that they must have widely used it prior to Christ’s death and resurrection. So we have no reason to believe that the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem had, by the time of Christ, ruled against the Septuagint or the deuterocanonical texts. Otherwise, the deliberation of the rabbis at Jamnia in A.D. 90 about whether the deuterocanonical books were canonical would have been unnecessary. If Jesus and His apostles agreed with the contemporary Jewish leaders in Israel regarding the Jewish canon, then it is likely that these leaders either accepted deuterocanonanonical texts or had reached no conclusion concerning them.

In this section we have seen a number of reasons why the ‘original Hebrew canon’ theory fails to provide an objective listing of the Old Testament scriptures binding on Christians, and therefore fails to answer the Canon Question. There is no historical basis to conclude that any one Jewish group had the authority to pronounce and close the canon for other Jewish groups, or that any one of them could conclude the canon for Christianity. We find not one of the early Church Fathers adopting a 39-book Old Testament canon. In addition, the New Testament identification of the Old Testament cannot be the basis for the Protestant Old Testament canon because it proves too much and too little. The New Testament has many texts which quite probably are references to the deuterocanon, and also identifies as “scripture” a line of text the source of which is still completely unknown. The New Testament does not identify five books which Protestants do treat as canonical. The historical evidence also indicates that the deuterocanonical texts were still accepted at the time of Christ. We have no evidence that there was an ‘original Hebrew canon’ matching the 39-book Protestant canon.

C. NEW TESTAMENT APOSTOLIC AUTHORSHIP:

Another proposed canon test, this one tailored for the New Testament texts, maintains that the proper test for canonizing the New Testament is apostolic authorship, or at least apostolic origin. For example, William A. Sanderson and Carl Cassel have concluded that “the test of canonicity applied by the early church was apostolic authorship.” ⁹⁸ According to Ridderbos:

For the communication and transmission of what was seen and heard in the fullness of time, Christ established a formal authority structure to be the source and standard for all future preaching of the gospel. ⁹⁹

On this point the Catholic heartily will agree. And Ridderbos acknowledges that Jesus appointed an apostolate for this purpose. ¹⁰⁰ He goes on to make the claim:

we can establish that the apostles’ role in the history of redemption was unique and unrepeatable. Because they not only received revelation but were also the bearers and organs of revelation, their primary and most important task was to function as the foundation of the church. To that revelation Christ binds His church for all time; upon it He founds and builds his church.¹⁰¹

With some of this the Catholic will agree. The Apostles, in accord with their commission from Christ, were to be the foundation of the Church. So they were, in one sense, unique and unrepeatable. But for Ridderbos, the Apostles were only to “function as the foundation of the Church.” The Apostles themselves are not the foundation of the Church; they are mere receptacles of a message that is the foundation. This is similar to the error made by Calvin that I addressed above in Section II.A., in which he saw the “teaching” of the prophets and Apostles as the foundation of the Church. To Ridderbos, then, the divine message received by the Apostles is the only thing that they were to pass on to the Church. For Catholics and Orthodox, by contrast, Christ also gave to the Apostles an authority to preach and teach in His Name, and with His authority, as His representatives. And this missional and magisterial authority can be, and is, passed down through the laying on of hands by the Apostles or those whom they have ordained.

For Ridderbos, Christ founded His Church upon revelation, rather than upon the Apostles themselves. Ridderbos’ position implies that authority within the Church was restricted only to the divine message delivered by Christ, wherever that message was communicated. Relevant at present is the implication this view has on the test for canonicity. If the revelation qua revelation were our authority, and the Apostles were (historically) simply its “bearers and organs,” then authority within the Church passed with the communicated revelation, leaving no authority with the succesor bishops whom the Apostles put in place.

This suggests the following answer to the Canon Question: those books which contain the authoritative revelation given to the Apostles belong to the canon. Some have gone to extensive lengths to prove that the New Testament corpus is from the Apostles either directly or via an amanuensis. ¹⁰² But Ridderbos rejects this answer to the Canon Question, “because we can no longer establish with historical certainty what in a redemptive-historical sense is apostolic and what is not.” ¹⁰³ The nature of apostolicity was not limited to the twelve Apostles, and we are uncertain of the number or identity of persons who were in some way or other ‘apostolic.’ According to Ridderbos, as “historical judgments cannot be the final and sole ground for the church’s acce