Peter, the first Pope?

Augustus Nicodemus Gomes Lopes is a Presbyterian minister, theologian, professor, international conference speaker, and bestselling author. Augustus holds a BA in theology from North Presbyterian Seminary in Recife, Brazil, a ThM in New Testament from the Reformed University of Potchefstroom, South Africa, and a PhD in biblical interpretation from Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. He is also an associate pastor of the Presbyterian Church of Santo Amaro in São Paulo.

In an article entitled, “From Peter to Francis: A Biblically Misguided Route” found here, he writes:

The resignation of Pope Benedict XVI and the election of Argentine Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio to replace him brings up, once again, the Roman Catholic claim that the pope is the successor of the apostle Peter as the head of the church of Jesus Christ here on earth. To the Catholic, Francis now sits on Peter’s throne.

prostrate-to-popeThe first question to be determined, of course, is: Did Peter have a throne? If he really was the early church’s proto-pope, then it’s reasonable to assume he had a throne—or at least something like it. And if he left a successor, who in turn left a successor and so on, then I suppose it’s reasonable to say Francis is now the throne’s rightful owner. This is the first question to consider since the mere fact of the office’s existence deserves to be examined in light of the Word of God. After all, Catholics and Protestants take Scripture to be authoritative and infallible. A concept with such incredible import, then, must have some kind of biblical foundation. But does it?

To be fair, it’s true the Lord Jesus distinguished Peter from the other disciples on several occasions. He was among the first to be called (Matt. 4:18) and his name always appears first on lists of the Twelve (Matt. 10:2, Mark 3:16). Jesus includes him among his closest disciples (Matt. 17:1). It was to Peter that Jesus said, “Feed my sheep” (John 21:17), and it was to Peter that he spoke the famous words: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven” (Matt 16:18-19).

However, it’s not apparent in Scripture or church history that Peter had preeminence over his colleagues or other Christians. It’s also not apparent that his fellow apostles, other local churches, or even Peter himself recognized his role in the church as exclusive in its representation of Jesus Christ. Certainly he was respected and revered as a leader, but these readily admitted realities do nothing to bolster Rome’s contention that the pope functions as an infallible mouthpiece of God.

The Bible is clear on this point. The apostle Paul felt perfectly comfortable confronting and scolding Peter publicly when he acted improperly toward Gentile believers in Antioch (Gal. 2:11-14). Moreover, it was the apostle James—not Peter—who served as the leader at the Jerusalem Council (Acts 15) and when a decision was made it was sent on behalf of the “apostles and elders.” Clearly, first-century Christians didn’t esteem Peter in a separate category.

Matthew’s Gospel corroborates this point, such that Jesus’ promises to Peter were never understood as an exclusive delegation to Peter alone. In fact, just a few chapters later Matthew applies the same responsibility to the entire congregation:

If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them. (Matt. 18:15-18)

It’s instructive to note how Paul viewed Peter. Along with Apollos and himself, Paul views Peter as a mere instrument through which God accomplishes his work (1 Cor. 3:22). He certainly recognizes Peter as a leader in the Jerusalem church—but among other apostles (Gal. 1:18-19). He mentions they were pillars of the church, but then proceeds to narrate the episode in which he openly confronted Peter (Gal. 2:11). Quite revealing is what Paul writes about his own calling: “For he who worked through Peter for his apostolic ministry to the circumcised worked also through me for mine to the Gentiles” (Gal. 2:8). According to Paul, then, the same Spirit enables these two apostles; no apostolic hierarchy exists. Continue reading

Five reasons to embrace the doctrine of election

but precious. Of course, it can’t be precious if it’s not true. So that’s the biggest reason we embrace it. But let’s start with a definition:

Unconditional election is God’s free choice before creation, not based on foreseen faith, to which traitors he will grant faith and repentance, pardoning them, and adopting them into his everlasting family of joy.

1. We embrace unconditional election because it is true.

All my objections to unconditional election collapsed when I could no longer explain away Romans 9. The chapter begins with Paul’s readiness to be cursed and cut off from Christ for his unbelieving Jewish kinsmen (verse 3). This implies that some Jews are perishing. And that raises the question of God’s promise to the Jews. Had it failed? Paul answers, “It is not as though the word of God has failed” (verse 6). Why not?

Because “not all who are descended from Israel belong to Israel” (verse 6). In other words, God’s purpose was not to acquit every individual person in Israel. It was instead a purpose of election.

So to illustrate the point of God’s unconditional election Paul uses the analogy of Jacob and Esau: “Though they were not yet born and had done nothing either good or bad — in order that God’s purpose of election might continue, not because of works but because of him who calls — [Rebekah] was told, ‘The older will serve the younger’” (verses 11–12).

In other words, God’s original purpose in choosing individuals for himself out of Israel (and all the nations! Revelation 5:9) was not based on any conditions that they would meet. It was an unconditional election. And thus he says, “I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion” (verse 15; see verses 16–18; Romans 11:5–7).

Jesus confirms this teaching: “All that the Father gives me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I will never cast out” (John 6:37). Coming to Jesus is not a condition we meet to qualify for election. It is the result of election. The Father has chosen his sheep. They are his. And he gives them to the Son. That is why they come. “No one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father” (John 6:65). “You did not choose me, but I chose you” (John 15:16; see John 17:2, 6, 9; Galatians 1:15).

In the book of Acts why did some believe and not others? Luke’s answer is election: “As many as were appointed to eternal life believed” (Acts 13:48). This “appointment” — this election—was not based on foreseen faith, it was the cause of faith.

In Ephesians 1 Paul says, “[God] chose us in [Christ] before the foundation of the world. . . . In him we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to the purpose of him who works all things according to the counsel of his will” (Ephesians 1:4, 11). It is the “counsel of God’s will” that is eternally decisive in this affair.

What will you say to God at the judgment if he asks, “Why did you believe on my Son while others didn’t?” You will not say: “Because I was smarter.” No. Surely you will say, “Because of your grace. Had you not chosen me, I would have been left spiritually dead, unresponsive, guilty.”

2. We embrace unconditional election because God designed it to make us fearless in our proclamation of his grace in a hostile world.

“If God is for us, who can be against us? . . . Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect?” (Romans 8:31, 33).

3. We embrace unconditional election because God designed it to make us humble.

“God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise . . . so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. . . . Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 1:27, 29, 31).

4. We embrace unconditional election because God made it a powerful moral impetus for compassion, kindness, and forgiveness.

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and loved, compassionate hearts, kindness . . . forgiving each other” (Colossians 3:12–13). No one has seen or savored his election truly who is not moved by it to become kind and patient and forgiving.

5. We embrace unconditional election because it is a powerful incentive in our evangelism to help unbelievers who are great sinners not despair.

When you offer Christ freely to all unbelievers, suppose one says, “I have sinned too terribly. God could never choose to save me.” The most ultimate despair-destroying thing you can say is this: Do you realize that God chose before the foundation of the world whom he will save? And he did it based on absolutely nothing in you. Before you were born or had done anything good or bad, God chose whether to save you or not.

Therefore, you dare not get in God’s face and tell him what qualifications you lack in order to be chosen. There were no qualifications for being chosen. “What then should I do?” he asks. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31). That’s how you begin to “confirm your calling and election” (2 Peter 1:10). If you will embrace the Savior, you will confirm that you are elect, and you will be saved.

Can’t Live Without It

which had embraced and endorsed the Nazi party.

Now back to the quiz. Here’s Bonhoeffer’s answer: “Christology is by nature bound up with the doctrine of justification.” This sentence comes from his lectures on twentieth-century systematic theology. He began the last lecture, which he entitled, “Preaching,” with a simple but urgent and ultimate question, “What should we preach?” We must preach Christ, he declares. Preaching Christ means nothing other than preaching the gospel. Preaching the gospel means, and only can mean, preaching the doctrine of justification.

Pulling a page from Luther’s playbook, Bonhoeffer speaks of how the cross is God’s “No” to humanity and to any attempt to achieve salvation, to attain righteousness. The cross slams the door on any and all attempts to merit salvation, to merit God’s grace. The cross is also simultaneously God’s “Yes” to us. Through his active and passive obedience, Christ has achieved for us what we could not. Christ died for the penalty of sin, enduring God’s wrath. Christ fully kept the law as the perfectly obedient Son. At the cross, Christ both undid what Adam had done and did what Adam could not do. “This is the reason,” Bonhoeffer says, “for the cross.” We have no hope without it.

In his discussion of justification, Bonhoeffer goes on to address the “alien righteousness” of Christ. This is one of the key concepts of the Reformers and of their protest against Rome. We are passive; God acts upon us. Even our act of faith is, in the words of Bonhoeffer, “the expression of the most profound human passivity.” We are justified, declared righteous before God, because of Christ’s righteousness imputed to us. It is outside of us, alien from us. The Latin expression is extra nos.

Why is Bonhoeffer stressing justification, imputation, and alien righteousness in his lectures? Because, while it was so central to Luther in the sixteenth century, the Lutheran church of the twentieth century had let the doctrine go by the wayside. The church had sold its birthright. We should not wonder at this. The doctrine of alien righteousness is offensive to human nature. It tells us we are unable to do something, that we lack capacity and ability. It tells us more. It tells us we are sinful and deserving of nothing but God’s wrath (Ephesians 2:1-3). That was not a popular message in twentieth-century Germany.

It’s not a popular message today, either. Even those who profess to be evangelicals have expressed an unease with historic formulations of the doctrine of justification. Some have outright rejected it.

At the end of Bonhoeffer’s lectures he left his students with one last statement:

Who will show us Luther!

We can put the same question to the twenty-first century evangelical church. Luther saw justification as the centerpiece to the whole Reformation enterprise. It is the doctrine the church can’t live without.