Bishop
Strossmayer’s Alleged Speech to the First Vatican Council
I
understand that the official position of the Roman Catholic Church is that Bishop
Strossmayer never delivered this speech at First Vatican Council attributed to
him. Based on the evidence
I am prepared to accept this conclusion. Why then publish something that most
likely a forgery? The reason is simple, if Strossmayer didn’t deliver it he
should have! For with regard to the
Papacy, this tract teaches the truth – Jesus did not establish the office of
Pope and no one in the apostolic church believe that Peter was Pope. With regard
to the so-called Church Fathers, the tract will show that these men have
been greatly misrepresented by present day apologists for the Roman Catholic
faith.
Ever
since discovering this tract it has been my hope to publish it with the
addition of footnotes, which verify author’s claims. In most cases I have been
able to do this. If you find mistakes please contact me and
I will make the corrections.
Enjoy
the read and feel free to contact me with any comments or complaints – Kieran Murphy
****
Venerable Fathers and Brethren:—It is not without trembling,
yet with a conscience free and tranquil before God who lives and sees me, that
I can open my mouth in the midst of you in this august assembly. From the time that I have been sitting here
with you, I have followed with attention the speeches that have been made in
the hall, hoping with great desire that a ray of light descending from on high
might enlighten the eyes of my understanding, and permit me to vote the canons
of this Holy Ecumenical Council with perfect knowledge of the case.
Penetrated with the feelings of responsibility, of which God
will demand of me an account, I have set myself to study with the most serious
attention the Old and New Testaments, and I have asked these venerable monuments
of truth to make known to me if the holy pontiff, who presides here is truly
the successor of St. Peter, vicar of Jesus Christ, and the infallible doctor of
the church. To resolve this grave
question I have been obliged to ignore the present state of things, and to
transport myself in mind, with the evangelical torch in my hand, to the days
when there was neither Ultramontanism nor
Gallicanism, and in which the church had for doctors
St. Paul, St. Peter, St. James, and St. John—doctors to whom no one can deny
the divine authority without putting in doubt that which the holy Bible, which
is here before me, teaches us, and which the Council of Trent has proclaimed as
the rule of faith and of morals.
I have opened these sacred pages.
Well (shall I dare say it?), I have found nothing either near of or far
which sanctions the opinion of the Ultramontanes. And still more, to my very great surprise, I find in the
apostolic days no question of a pope, successor to St. Peter, and vicar of
Jesus Christ, any more than of Mahomet, who did not then exist. You, Monsignor Manning, will say that I
blaspheme; your, Monsignor Fie, that I am mad.
No, Monsignori, I do not blaspheme, and I am not mad. Now, having read the whole New Testament, I
declare before God, with my hand raised to that great crucifix, that I have
found no trace of the papacy as it exists at this moment. Do not refuse me your attention, my
venerable brethren, and with your murmuring and interruptions do not justify
those who say, like Father Hyacinthe, that this Council is nothing, and that
our votes have been, from the beginning, dictated by authority. If such were the case, this august assembly,
on which the eyes of the whole world are turned, would fall into most shameful
discredit. If we wish to make it great,
we must be free. I thank his
Excellency, Monsignor Dupanloup, for the sign of approbation which he makes
with his head: this give me great courage, and I go on.
Reading, then the sacred books with that attention with
which the Lord has made me capable, I do not find one single chapter, or one
little verse, in which Jesus Christ gives to St. Peter the mastery over the
apostles, his fellow workers. If Simon,
son of Jonas, had been what we believe his holiness Pius IX to be today, it is
wonderful that He had not said to him, “When I have ascended to my Father, you
should all obey Simon Peter as you obey Me.
I establish him my vicar upon earth.”
Not only is Christ silent on this great point, but so little
does He think of giving a head to the church, that when He promises to His
apostles to judge the twelve tribes of Israel (Matt. 19:28), He promises them
twelve thrones, one for each, without saying that among those thrones one shall
be higher than the others—which shall belong to Peter. Certainly, if He had wished it should be so,
He would have said it. What do we
conclude from this sentence? Logic
tells us that Christ did not wish to make St. Peter the head of the apostolic
college. When Christ sent the apostles
to conquer the world, to all He gave the promise of the Holy Spirit.
Permit me to repeat it: if He had wished to constitute Peter His vicar,
He would have given him the chief command over His spiritual army. Christ – so says the Holy Scriptures –
forbade Peter and his colleagues to reign or to exercise lordship, or to have
authority over the faithful like the kings of the Gentiles (Luke 22:25). If St. Peter had been elected Pope, Jesus
would not have spoken thus; but according to our tradition, the papacy holds in
its hands two swords, symbols of spiritual and temporal power.
One thing has surprised me very much. Turning it over in my mind, I said to
myself, “If Peter had been elected Pope, would his colleagues have been
permitted to send him with St. John to Samaria to announce the gospel of the
Son of God?”
What do you think, venerable brethren, if at this moment we permitted
ourselves to send his holiness Pius IX and his Excellency Mons. Plantier to go
to the Patriarch of Constantinople, to pledge him to put an end to the Eastern
schism.
But here is another, still more important, fact. An Ecumenical Council is assembled at
Jerusalem to decide on the questions which divide the faithful. Who would have called together this Council
if St. Peter had been pope? St. Peter. Well, nothing of this occurred. The apostle summed it up, but St. James; and
when the decrees were promulgated it was in the name of the apostles, the
elders, and the brethren (Acts 15). Is
it thus that we do in our church? The
more I examine, O venerable brethren, the more I am convinced that in the
Scriptures the son of Jonas does not appear to be first.
Now, while we teach that the church is built upon St. Peter,
St. Paul (whose authority cannot be doubted) says, in his epistle to the
Ephesians 2:20, it is built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets,
Jesus Christ Himself being the chief corner-stone. And the same apostle believes so little in the supremacy of St.
Peter, that he openly blames those who say, “We are of Paul, we are of Apollos,
(1 Corinthians 1:12), as those who would say, “We are of Peter.” If, therefore, the last apostle had been
vicar of Christ, St. Paul would have taken great care not to censure so
violently those who belonged to his own colleagues. The same apostle, counting up the offices of the church, mentions
apostles, prophets, evangelists, doctors, and pastors.
Is it to be believed, my venerable brethren, that St. Paul, the great
apostle of the Gentiles, would have forgotten the first of these offices, the
papacy, if the papacy had been of divine institution? The forgetfulness appeared to me to be as impossible as if an
historian of this Council were not to mention one word of his holiness Pius IX. (Several
voices – “Silence, heretic, silence.”)
calm yourselves, my brethren, I have not yet finished. Forbidding me to go on, you show yourself to
the world to do wrong in shutting the mouth of the smallest member of this
assembly.
I continue. The
apostle Paul makes no mention, in any of his letters directed to the various
churches, of the primacy of Peter. If
this primacy had existed, if, in one word, the church had in its body a supreme
head, infallible in teaching, would the great apostle of the Gentiles have
forgotten to mention it? What do I
say? He would have written a long
letter on this all-important subject.
Then, as he has actually done, when the edifice of the Christian
doctrine is erected, would the foundation, the key of the arch, be forgotten? Now unless you hold that the church of the
apostles was heretical (which none of us would either desire or dare to say),
we are obliged to confess that the church has never been more beautiful, more
pure, or more holy, than in the days when there was not a pope. (Cries of, “It is not true; it is not
true.”) Let not Monsignor di Laval
say, “No,” since if any of you, my venerable brethren, should dare to think
that the church which has today a pope for its head is more in the faith, more
pure in its morals than the Apostolic
church, let him say it openly in the face of the universe, for this
enclosure is the center from which our words fly from pole to pole.
I go on. Neither in
the writings of St. Paul, St. John, nor St. James, have I found a trace or germ
of the papal power. St. Luke, this
historian of the missionary labors of the apostles, is silent on this
all-important point. The silence of
these holy men, whose writings make part of the canon of the divinely-inspired
Scriptures, has appeared to me burdensome and impossible if Peter had been
pope, and as unjustifiable as if Theirs, writing the history of Napoleon
Bonaparte, had omitted the title of emperor.
I see here before me a member of the assembly who says,
pointing at me with his finger, “There is a schismatic bishop who has got among
us under false colors.” No, no, my
venerable brethren, I have not entered this august assembly as a thief, by the
window, but by the door like yourselves.
My title of bishop gave me a right to it, as my Christian conscience
forces me to speak and to say that which I believe to be true.
What has surprised me most, and what moreover is capable of
demonstration, is the silence of St. Peter.
If the apostle had been what we proclaim him to be – that is, vicar of
Jesus Christ on earth – he surely would have known it; if he had known it, how
is it that not once did he act as pope?
He might have done it on the day of Pentecost, when he pronounced his
first sermon, but did not do it; neither in his two letters directed to the
church. Can you imagine such a pope, my
venerable brethren, if St. Peter had been pope? Now, if you wish to maintain that he was the pope, the natural
consequence arises that you must maintain that he was ignorant of the
fact. Now I ask whoever has a head to
think and a mind to reflect, are these two suppositions possible?
To return, I say, while the apostle lived, the church never
thought that there could be a pope; to maintain the contrary, all the sacred
writings must be entirely ignored.
But it is said on all sides, “Was not St. Peter at
Rome? Was he not crucified with his
head down? Are not the pulpits in which
he taught, the altars at which he said the mass, in this eternal city?” St. Peter having been at Rome, my venerable
brethren, rests only on tradition; but, if he had been Bishop of Rome, how can
you from this prove his supremacy?
Scaliger, one of the most learned of men, has not hesitated to say that
St. Peter’s episcopate and residence at Rome ought to be classed with
ridiculous legends. (Repeated cries,
“Shut his mouth, shut his mouth; make him come down from the pulpit.”)
Venerable brethren, I am ready to be silent; but is it not
better, in an assembly like this to prove all things, as the apostle commands,
and to hold fast what is good?
We have a dictator, before whom we – even his holiness Pius IX himself –
must prostrate ourselves, and be silent and bow our heads. That dictator is history. This is not like a legend, which can be made
as the potter makes his clay, but is like a diamond which cuts on glass what
cannot be canceled. Till now I have
only leant on her; and if I have found no trace of the papacy in the apostolic
days, the fault is hers, not mine. Do
you wish to put me into the position of one accused of falsehood? You may do it, if you can.
I hear from the right some one expressing these words –
“Thou are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church.” I will answer this objection presently, my
venerable brethren; but before doing so, I wish to present you with the result
of my historical researches.
Finding no trace of the papacy in the days of the apostles,
I said to myself, “I shall find what I am in search of in the annals of the
church. Well, I say it frankly – I have
sought for a pope in the first four centuries, and I have not found him. None of you, I hope, will doubt the great
authority of the holy Bishop of Hippo, the great and blessed St.
Augustine. This pious doctor, the honor
and glory of the Catholic Church, was secretary in the Council of Milevis. In the decrees of this venerable assembly
are to be found these significant words, “Whoever will to appeal to those
beyond the sea shall not be received by any one in Africa to the communion.”
That the Patriarch of Rome had from the earliest times tried
to draw to himself all the authority is an evident fact; but it is an equally
evident fact that he had not the supremacy which the Ultramontanes attribute to
him. Had he possessed it, would the
Bishops of Africa – St. Augustine first among them – have dared to prohibit the
appeals of their decrees to his supreme tribunal? I confess without difficulty that the Patriarch of Rome held the
first place. One of Justinian’s laws
says, “Let us order, after the definition of the four Councils, that the holy
Pope of ancient Rome shall be the first of the bishops, and the most high
Archbishop of Constantinople, which is the new Rome, shall be second.”
“Bow down, then, to the supremacy of the Pope,” you will say to me. Do not run so fast to this conclusion, my
venerable brethren, inasmuch as the law of Justinian has written on the face of
it, “Of the order of the patriarchal sees.”
Precedence is one thing, the power of jurisdiction is another. For example, supposing that in Florence
there was an assemble of all the bishops of the kingdom, the precedence would
be given to the Primate of Florence, as among the Easterns it would be accorded
to the Patriarch of Constantinople, as in England to the Archbishop of
Canterbury. But neither the first, nor
the second, nor the third, could deduce from the position assigned to him jurisdiction
over his colleagues.
The importance of the Bishops of Rome proceed not from
divine power, but from the importance of the city in which they had their
seat. Monsignor Darboy (in Paris) is
not superior in dignity to the Archbishop of Avignon; but, in spite of that,
Paris gives him a consideration which he would not have, if, instead of having
his palace on the bank if the Seine, he had it on that of the Rhone. That which is true in the religious order is
the same in the civil and political matters: the prefect of Rome is not more a
prefect that one at Pisa; but civilly and politically he has a greater
importance.
I have said that from the very first centuries the Patriarch
of Rome aspired to the universal government of the church. Unfortunately he very nearly reached it; but
he had not succeeded assuredly in his pretensions, for the Emperor Theodosius
II made a law by which he established the Patriarch of Constantinople should
have the same authority as he of Rome (Leg.
Cod. De sacr., etc.) The fathers of
the Council of Chalcedon put the Bishops of the new and the old Rome in the
same order on all things, even ecclesiastical (Can. 28)
The sixth Council of Carthage forbade all the bishops to take the title
prince of bishops, or sovereign bishop.
As for the title of universal bishop, which the Popes took later, St.
Gregory I, believing that his successors would never think of adorning
themselves with it, wrote these remarkable words, “None of my predecessors has
consented to take this profane name; for when a patriarch gives himself the
name of Universal, the title of
patriarch suffers discredit. Far be it
from Christians to desire to give themselves a title which brings discredit
upon their brethren!”
The words of St. Gregory are directed to his colleagues of
Constantinople, who pretended to the primacy of the church. Pope Pelagius II calls John, Bishop of
Constantinople, who aspired to the high priesthood, “impious and profane.” “Do not care,” he said, “for the title of
universal, which John has usurped illegally.
Let none of the patriarchs take this profane name; for what misfortunes
may we not expect, if among the priests such elements arise? They would get what has been foretold for
them – He is the king of the sons of pride” Pelagius
II, Lett. 13). Do not these
authorities prove (and I might add a hundred more of equal value), with a
clearness as the sun at mid-day, that the first Bishops of Rome were not till
much later recognized as universal Bishops and heads of the church? And on the other hand, who does not know
that from the year 325, in which the first Council of Nice was held, down to
580, the year of the second Ecumenical Council of Constantinople, among more
than 1,109 bishops who assisted at the first six general Councils, there were
not more than nineteen Western bishops?
Who does not know that the Councils were convoked by the Emperors
without informing and sometimes against the wish of the Bishop of Rome? – that Hosius, Bishop of Cordova, presided at the
first Council of Nice, and edited the canons of it? The same Hosius presided afterwards at the Council of Sardica,
excluding the legates of Julius, Bishop of Rome.
I say no more, my venerable brethren; and I come not to
speak of the great argument – which you mentioned before – to establish the
primacy of the Bishop of Rome by the rock (petra). If this were true, the dispute would be at
an end; but our forefathers – and they certainly knew something – did not think
of it as we do. St. Cyril in his fourth
book on the Trinity, says, “I believe that by the rock you must understand the
unshaken faith of the apostle.” St.
Hilary, Bishop of Poitiers, in his second book on the Trinity, says, “the rock (petra) is the blessed and only rock of
the faith confessed by the mouth of St. Peter”; and in the sixth book of the
Trinity, he says, “It is on this rock of the confession of faith that the
church is built.” “God,” says St.
Jerome, in the sixth book on St. Matthew, “has founded His church on this rock
that the apostle Peter has been named.”
After him St. Chrysostom says in his fifty-third homily on St. Matthew,
“On this rock I will build my church – that is, on the faith of the
confession.”
Now, what was the confession of the apostle? Here it is, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living
God.” Ambrose, the holy Archbishop of
Milan (on the second chapter of the Ephesians), St. Basil of Seleucia, and the
fathers of the Council of Chalcedon, teach exactly the same thing. Of all the doctors of the Christian
antiquity, St. Augustine occupies one of the first places for knowledge and
holiness. Listen, then, to what he
writes in his second treatise on the first epistle of St. John: “What do the words mean, I will build my
church on this rock? On this faith, on that which said, Thou
art the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
In his treatise on St. John we find this most significant phrase, “Upon
this rock which thou hast confessed I will build my church, since Christ was
the rock.”
The great Bishop believed so little that the church was built on St.
Peter that he said to the people in his thirteenth sermon, “Thou are Peter, and
on this rock (petra) which thou hast
confessed, on this rock which they hast known, saying, Thou art Christ the Son
of the living God, I will build my church—upon Myself, who am the Son of the
Living God: I will build it on Me, and
not Me on thee.”
That which St. Augustine thought upon the celebrated passage was the
opinion of all Christendom in his time.
Therefore, to resume, I establish: (1) That Jesus has given
to His apostles the same power that He gave to St. Peter. (2) That the apostles never recognized in
St. Peter the vicar of Jesus Christ and the infallible doctor of the church.
(3) That St. Peter never thought of being Pope, and never acted as if he were
Pope. (4) That the Councils of the first four centuries, while they recognized
the high position which the Bishop of Rome occupied in the church on account of
Rome, only accorded to him a pre-eminence of honor, never of power or of jurisdiction.
(5) That the holy fathers in the famous passage, “Thou art Peter, and on this
rock I will build my church,” never understood that the church was built on
Peter (super Petrum) but on the rock
(super petram), that is, on the
confession of the faith of the apostle.
I conclude victoriously, with history, with reason, with logic, with
good sense, and with a Christian conscience, that Jesus Christ did not confer
any supremacy on St. Peter and that the bishops of Rome did not become
sovereigns of the church, but only by confiscating one by one all the rights of
the episcopate. (Voices—“Silecse,
impudent Protestant! Silence!”)
No, I am not an impudent Protestant. History is neither Catholic, nor Anglican,
nor Calvinistic, nor Lutheran, nor Armenian, nor schismatic Greek, nor
Ultramontane. She is what she is—that
is, something stronger than all confessions of faith of the Canons of the
Ecumenical Councils. Write against it,
if you dare! But you cannot destroy it, any more than taking a brick out of the
Coliseum would make it fall. If I have
said anything which proves to be false, show it to me by history, and without a
moment’s hesitation I will make an honorable apology; but be patient, and you
will see that I have not said all that I would or could; and even were the
funeral pile waiting for me in the place of St. Peter’s, I should not be
silent, and I am obliged to go on.
Monsignor Dupanloup, in his celebrated Observations on this Council of the Vatican, has said, and with
reason, that if we declared Pius IX infallible, we must necessarily, and from
natural logic, be obliged to hold that all his predecessors were also
infallible.
Well, venerable brethren, here history raises its voice to
assure us that some popes have erred.
You may protest against it or deny it, as you please, but I will prove
it. Pope Victor (192) first approved of
Montanism, and then condemned it.
Mercellinus (296-303) was an idolater.
He entered into the temple of Vesta, and offered incense to the
goddess. You will say that it was an
act of weakness; but I answer, a vicar of Jesus Christ dies rather than become an apostate. Liberius (358) consented to the condemnation of Athanasius, and
made a profession of Arianism, that he might be recalled from his exile and
reinstated in his see. Honorius (625)
adhered to Monothelitism: Father Gratry has proved it to demonstration. Gregory I (785-90) calls any one Antichrist
who takes the name of Universal Bishop, and contrariwise Boniface III, (607, 8)
made the parricide Emperor Phocas confer that title upon him. Paschal II, (1088-99) and Eugenius III
(1145-53) authorized dueling; Julius II (1509) and Pius (1560) forbade it. Eugenius IV (1432-39) approved the Council
of Basle and the restitution of the chalice to the church of Bohemia; Pius VII
(1458) revoked the concession. Hadrian
II, (867-72) declared civil marriages to be valid; Pius VII (1800-23) condemned
them. Sixtus V (1585-90) published an
edition of the Bible, and by a bull recommended it to be read; Pius VII
condemned the reading of it. Clement
XIV (1769-74) abolished the order of the Jesuits, permitted by Paul III, and
Pius VII re-established it.
But why look for such remote proofs? Has not our holy Father here present, in his
bull which gave the rules for this Council, in the event of his dying while it
was sitting, revoked all that in past times may be contrary to it, even when
that proceeds from the decisions of his predecessors? And certainly, if Pius IX had spoken ex cathedra, it is not when, from the depths of his sepulchre, he
imposes his will on the sovereigns of the church. I should never finish, my venerable brethren, if I were to put
before your eyes the contraditions of the popes in their teaching. If you proclaim the infallibility of the
actual pope, you must either prove - that which is impossible - that the popes
never contradicted each other, or else you must declare that the Holy Spirit
has revealed to you that the infallibility of the papacy dates from 1870. Are you bold enough to do this?
Perhaps the people may be indifferent, and pass by
theological questions which they do not understand, and of which they do not
see the importance; but though they are indifferent to principle, they are not
so to facts. Do not then deceived
yourselves. If you decree the dogma of
papal infallibility, the Protestants, our adversaries, will mount in the
breach, the more bold that they have history on their side, whilst we have only
our own denial against them. What can
we say to them when they show up all the bishops of Rome from the days of Luke
to his holiness Pius IX? Ah, if they
had all been like Pius IX, we should triumph on the whole line; but alas, it is
not so. (Cries of “Silence, silence;
enough, enough!”)
Do not cry out, Mosignori!
To fear history is to own yourselves conquered; and moreover, if you
made the whole waters of the Tiber pass over it, you would not cancel a single
page. Let us speak, and I will be as
short as it is possible on this more important subject.—Pope Vigilius (538)
purchased the papacy from Belisarius, lieutenant of the Emperor Justinian. It is true that he broke his promise and
never paid for it. Is this a canonical
mode of binding on the tiara? The
second Council of Chalcedon had formally condemned it. In one of its canons you read that “the
bishop who obtains his episcopate by money shall lose it and be degraded.” Pope Eugenius III (IV in original) (1145)
imitated Vigilius. St. Bernard, the
bright star of his age, reproves the pope, saying to him, “Can you show me in
this great city of Rome any one who would receive you as pope if they had not
received gold or silver for it?”
My venerable brethren will a pope who establishes a bank at
the gates of the temple be inspired by the Holy Spirit? Will he have any right to teach the church infallibly? You know the history of Formosus too well
for me to add to it. Stephen XI caused
his body to be exhumed, dressed in his pontifical robes; he made the fingers
which he used for giving the benediction to be cut off, and then had him thrown
into the Tiber, declaring him to be a perjurer and illegitimate. He was then imprisoned by the people,
poisoned, and strangled, and, after him, John X, rehabilitated the memory of
Formosus.
But you will tell me these are fables, not history. Fables?
Go, Monsignori, to the Vatican Library and read Platina, the historian
of the Papacy, and the annals of Baronius (897). These are facts which, for the honor of the Holy See, we should
wish to ignore; but when it is to define a dogma which may provoke a great schism
in our midst, the love which we bear to our venerable mother church Catholic,
Apostolic, and Roman, ought it to impse silence on us?
I go on. The learned
Cardinal Baronius, speaking to the papal court, says (give attention, my
venerable brethren, to these words), “What did the Roman church appear in those
days? How infamous! Only all-powerful courtesans governing in
Rome! It was they who gave, exchanged,
and took bishoprics; and horrible to relate, they got their lovers, the false
popes, put on the throne of St. Peter” (Baronius, A.D. 912). You
will answer, “These were false popes, not true ones”: let it be so; but in that
case, if for fifty years the see of Rome was occupied by anti-popes, how shall
you pick up again the thread of pontifical succession? Has the church been able, at least for a
century and a half, to go on without a head, and find itself acephalous?
Look now: The greatest number of these anti-popes appear in
the genealogical tree of the papacy; and it must have been this absurdity that
Baronius described; because Genebardo, the great flatterer of the popes, had
dared to say in his Chronicles (A.D. 901). “This century is unfortunate, as for
nearly 150 years the popes have fallen from all the virtues of their
predecessors, and have become apostates
rather than apostles.” I can understand how the illustrious
Baronius must have blushed when he narrated the acts of these Roman
bishops. Speaking of John XI (931),
natural son of Pope Sergious and of Marozia, he wrote these words in his annals—“The
holy church, that is, the Roman, has been vile trampled on by such a
monster.” John XII (956), elected pope
at the age of eighteen, through the influence of courtesans, was not one whit
better than his predecessor.
I grieve, my venerable brethren, to stir up so much
filth. I am silent on Alexander VI,
father and lover of Lucretia; I turn away from John XIII (1410), who, because
of simony and immorality, was disposed by the holy Ecumenical Council of Constance[KM1].
Some maintain that this Council was only a private one; let it be so;
but if you refuse any authority to it, as a logical sequence you must hold the
nomination of Martin V (1417) to be illegal.
What, then, will become of the papal succession? Can you find the thread of it.
I do not speak of the schisms which have dishonored the
church. In those unfortunate days the
See of Rome was occupied by two competitors, and sometimes even by three. Which of these was the true pope? Resuming once more, again I say, if you
decree the infallibility of the present bishop of Rome, you must establish the
infallibility of all the preceding ones, without excluding any. But can you do that, when history is there
establishing with a clearness equal to that of the sun, that the popes have
erred in their teaching? Could you do
it and maintain that avaricious, incestuous, murdering, simoniacal popes have
been vicars of Jesus Christ? Oh,
venerable brethren! To maintain such an
enormity would be to betray Christ worse than Judas. It would be to throw dirt in His face. (Cries, “Down from the pulpit, quick; shut the mouth of the heretic!”)
My venerable brethren, you cry out; but would it not be more
dignified to weigh my reasons and my proof in the balance of the
sanctuary? Believe me, history cannot
be made over again; it is there, and will remain for all eternity, to protest
energetically against the dogma of papal infallibility. You may proclaim it unanimously; but one
vote will be wanting, and that is mine!
Monsignori, the true and faithful have their eyes on us, expecting from
us a remedy for the innumerable evils which dishonor the church; will you
deceive them in their hopes? What will
not our responsibility before God be, if we let this solemn occasion pass which
God has given us to heal the true faith?
Let us seize it, my brethren; let us arm ourselves with a holy courage;
let us make a violent and generous effort; let us turn to the teaching of the
apostles and prophets as our only infallible masters with reference to the
questions of questions, “What must I do to be saved?” When we have decided that, we shall have laid the foundation of
our dogmatic system firm and immovable on the rock, lasting and incorruptible,
of the divinely inspired holy Scriptures.
Full in confidence, we will go before the world, and, like the apostle
Paul, in the presence of the free-thinker, we will “know none other than Jesus
Christ and Him crucified.”
We will conquer through the preaching of “the folly of the cross.” As Paul conquered the learned men of
Greece and Rome; and the Roman Church will have its glorious ’89. (Clamorous
cries, “Get down! Out with the Protestant, the Calvinist, the traitor of the
church.”) Your cries, Monsignori,
do not frighten me. If my words are
hot, my head is cool. I am neither of
Luther, nor of Calvin, nor of Paul, nor of Apollos, but of Christ. (Renewed cries, “ Anathema, anathema, to the
apostate.”
Anathema?
Monsignori, anathema? You know
well that you are not protesting against me, but against the holy apostles
under whose protection I should wish this Council to place the church. Ah, if wrapped in their winding-sheets they
came out of their tombs, would they speak a language different from mine? What would you say to them when, by their
writings, they tell you that the papacy deviated from the gospel of the Son of
God, which they have preached and confirmed in so generous a manner by their
blood? Would you dare say to them “We
prefer the teachings of our own popes, our Bellearmine, our Ignatius Loyola, to
yours? No, no—a thousand times no! Unless you have shut your ears that they may
not hear, closed your eyes that you may not see, blunted your mind that you may
not understand. Ah! If He who reigns above wishes to punish us,
making His hand fall heavily on us, as He did on Pharaoh, He was only to let
them make Pius IX a god, as we have made a goddess of the blessed Virgin. Stop, stop, venerable brethren, on the
odious and ridiculous incline on which you have placed yourselves. Save the church from the shipwreck which
threatens her, asking from the holy Scriptures alone for the rule of faith
which we ought to believe and to profess.
I have spoken: may God help me!
Works Cited
Benigni,
Umberto. “Ultramontanism,” The Catholic Encyclopedia. Vol. 15. Ed.
Charles G. Herbermann, et al. New York: The Encyclopedia Press, INC., 1913. 15
vols.
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