Jerome to Damasus: When the “Chair of Peter” Becomes the Test of Communion

Letter XV. To Pope Damasus.

This letter, written in 376 or 377 a.d., illustrates Jerome’s attitude towards the see of Rome at this time held by Damasus, afterwards his warm friend and admirer. Referring to Rome as the scene of his own baptism and as a church where the true faith has remained unimpaired (§1), and laying down the strict doctrine of salvation only within the pale of the church (§2), Jerome asks “the successor of the fisherman” two questions, viz.: (1) who is the true bishop of the three claimants of the see of Antioch, and (2) which is the correct terminology, to speak of three “hypostases” in the Godhead, or of one?

On the latter question he expresses fully his own opinion.

Since the East, shattered as it is by the long-standing feuds, subsisting between its peoples, is bit by bit tearing into shreds the seamless vest of the Lord, “woven from the top throughout,” since the foxes are destroying the vineyard of Christ, and since among the broken cisterns that hold no water it is hard to discover “the sealed fountain” and “the garden inclosed,” I think it my duty to consult the chair of Peter, and to turn to a church whose faith has been praised by Paul. I appeal for spiritual food to the church whence I have received the garb of Christ. The wide space of sea and land that lies between us cannot deter me from searching for “the pearl of great price.” “Wheresoever the body is, there will the eagles be gathered together.” Evil children have squandered their patrimony; you alone keep your heritage intact. The fruitful soil of Rome, when it receives the pure seed of the Lord, bears fruit an hundredfold; but here the seed corn is choked in the furrows and nothing grows but darnel or oats. In the West the Sun of righteousness is even now rising; in the East, Lucifer, who fell from heaven, has once more set his throne above the stars. “Ye are the light of the world,” “ye are the salt of the earth,” ye are “vessels of gold and of silver.” Here are vessels of wood or of earth, which wait for the rod of iron, and eternal fire.

From Paul’s Praise of Roman Faith to Jerome’s “Chair of Peter”

Jerome’s opening paragraph is important because it establishes the method he will use throughout the two letters. He begins with genuine biblical texts and genuine historical circumstances—the doctrinal turmoil of the East and the reputation for orthodoxy enjoyed by the Roman Christians under Damasus—but then attaches to those texts an ecclesiological conclusion which the passages themselves do not state.

Jerome says that because the East is torn by division he thinks it his duty:

“to consult the chair of Peter, and to turn to a church whose faith has been praised by Paul.”

The second half of that sentence is certainly scriptural. Paul did praise the faith of the Roman believers:

“First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world.” — Romans 1:8.

But Paul does not say that their praised faith makes Rome the “chair of Peter.” Romans 1:8 contains no reference to Peter, no doctrine of a Roman episcopal succession, no promise that the Roman church will remain permanently free from error, and no command that Christians in other churches must consult Rome to determine communion. Jerome has joined a biblical statement—Rome’s faith was widely spoken of—to a later ecclesiological identification—Rome is Peter’s chair. The first proposition is Pauline. The second must be demonstrated separately.

The same epistle contains a warning which prevents Rome’s present faithfulness from being turned into an unconditional guarantee of future indefectibility. Addressing Gentile believers, Paul writes:

“Well; because of unbelief they were broken off, and thou standest by faith. Be not highminded, but fear: For if God spared not the natural branches, take heed lest he also spare not thee.” — Romans 11:20–21.

Paul therefore praises the Roman Christians for their faith and also warns Gentile believers that they stand by faith and must not presume. Whatever theological conclusions may later be drawn concerning the Roman see, Romans itself does not teach that Rome is incapable of falling from the truth.

Jerome surrounds his appeal with further biblical imagery. The “seamless vest” comes from John’s account of Christ’s crucifixion:

“And the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout.” — John 19:23.

Jerome uses the undivided garment as an image of ecclesiastical unity. That is an understandable allegorical application, but John 19 does not identify the seamless garment with Roman jurisdiction. An allegory can illustrate a doctrine; it cannot establish an office which the text never names.

Jerome similarly invokes the “foxes” which spoil the vines and then the “sealed fountain” and “garden inclosed” of the Song of Songs. Yet the Song itself says:

“A garden inclosed is my sister, my spouse; a spring shut up, a fountain sealed.” — Song of Solomon 4:12.

The sealed garden in the biblical text is the beloved woman, “my sister, my spouse.” It is not identified as the Roman see. Jerome is using bridal imagery to describe where he believes doctrinal purity is preserved amid ecclesiastical disorder. That tells us what Jerome thinks about Rome at this moment; it does not turn Song of Solomon 4:12 into a prophecy of the Roman episcopate.

The important point is that the biblical “sealed fountain” is not Rome. It belongs to a woman—the beloved, the sister-bride. And elsewhere the Song gives that same woman a description which bears a striking resemblance to Revelation 12. Immediately after contrasting her with “threescore queens,” “fourscore concubines,” and “virgins without number,” the beloved declares:

“My dove, my undefiled is but one; she is the only one of her mother, she is the choice one of her that bare her.” — Song 6:9.

Then immediately:

“Who is she that looketh forth as the morning, fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners?” — Song 6:10.

Revelation introduces its woman in remarkably similar celestial imagery:

“And there appeared a great wonder in heaven; a woman clothed with the sun, and the moon under her feet…” — Revelation 12:1.

The resemblance goes beyond sun and moon. Song repeatedly asks “Who is this?” of the woman coming from the wilderness (Song 3:6; 8:5); Revelation’s woman likewise flees into the wilderness to a place prepared for her (Revelation 12:6, 14). Song describes her as formidable “as an army with banners”; Revelation places its radiant woman within a cosmic war and says the Dragon goes “to make war with the remnant of her seed” (Revelation 12:17).

That last expression also reaches directly back to Genesis:

“I will put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed…” — Genesis 3:15.

Revelation explicitly identifies the Dragon as “that old serpent” (Revelation 12:9), then gives us again the woman, the serpent, her seed and warfare. John therefore appears to combine several Old Testament images: Genesis supplies the woman/serpent/seed conflict; Genesis 37 contributes sun, moon and stars; but Song 6 supplies something especially distinctive—one uniquely chosen woman described through the sun and moon.

The Greek strengthens the connection. Song 6:9 calls her μία, “one,” and ἐκλεκτή, “chosen/choice”; 6:10 again uses ἐκλεκτή and the exact nouns σελήνη (“moon”) and ἥλιος (“sun”). Revelation 12:1 likewise describes its woman with ἥλιος and σελήνη. This is not a verbatim quotation, but it is far more than a vague resemblance.

There is even an intriguing Johannine echo in 2 John. John addresses an “elect lady” and closes with, “The children of thy elect sister greet thee” (2 John 1, 13). The Song likewise repeatedly calls the beloved “my sister, my spouse”, while the Septuagint calls her ἐκλεκτή, “chosen/elect.” This does not by itself identify the women, but it shows that Johannine language can combine woman, election and sisterhood in a way strikingly compatible with the Song.

Revelation finally returns to the female bridal image:

“Come hither, I will shew thee the bride, the Lamb’s wife.” — Revelation 21:9.

The cumulative pattern is therefore substantial: the sealed sister-bride of Song 4; the one, undefiled, chosen woman of Song 6; the woman of sun and moon; the wilderness woman; the woman associated with formidable warfare; the Genesis woman opposed by the serpent through her seed; and Revelation’s radiant woman whose seed is attacked by that same ancient serpent.

Scripture never explicitly says, “The woman of Revelation 12 is the Shulamite of Song of Songs,” so the identification should not be presented as proven by a single quotation. But the interconnected imagery makes a serious canonical case that Revelation is deliberately drawing upon the Song’s unique beloved woman. Jerome’s own quotation therefore cannot simply be transferred to Rome: the “garden inclosed” and “fountain sealed” belong first to Scripture’s uniquely distinguished woman and bride.

The same problem appears in his use of Jeremiah’s “broken cisterns.” Jeremiah says:

“For my people have committed two evils; they have forsaken me the fountain of living waters, and hewed them out cisterns, broken cisterns, that can hold no water.” — Jeremiah 2:13.

The fountain in Jeremiah is the LORD Himself. The answer to the broken cisterns is return to God, not submission to a particular earthly see. Christ likewise directs the thirsty to Himself:

“If any man thirst, let him come unto me, and drink.” — John 7:37.

Jerome’s appeal to the “pearl of great price” and to “Wheresoever the body is, there will the eagles be gathered together” follows the same pattern. These sayings belong to Christ’s teaching; none identifies Rome as the exclusive place where the pearl, the body, or the true Church must be sought. Jerome is applying them to his search for orthodoxy.

His praise becomes still stronger:

“Evil children have squandered their patrimony; you alone keep your heritage intact.”

This is a fourth-century historical judgment, not an apostolic promise. Jerome believes that the Roman church under Damasus has preserved the Nicene inheritance while large portions of the East are divided. That may accurately describe Jerome’s perception of the crisis. It does not establish that Rome has been granted a permanent scriptural guarantee unavailable to every other church.

Jerome then describes Rome as the fruitful soil which produces a hundredfold. Christ’s parable certainly speaks of good ground:

“But other fell into good ground, and brought forth fruit, some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.” — Matthew 13:8.

Christ Himself explains that the seed concerns hearing and receiving “the word of the kingdom” (Matthew 13:19–23). He does not identify the hundredfold soil with Rome. Jerome has again taken a general image concerning reception of God’s word and applied it specifically to the Roman church.

The contrast reaches its height when Jerome says that in the West the “Sun of righteousness” is rising while in the East “Lucifer” has raised his throne. The biblical language is real: Malachi 4:2 speaks of the “Sun of righteousness,” and Isaiah 14:12–13 contains the imagery of the fallen “Lucifer” exalting his throne. But neither prophecy identifies fourth-century western Christianity as the Sun and eastern Christianity as Lucifer. Jerome’s rhetoric is forceful precisely because it borrows the emotional authority of Scripture, but the application remains Jerome’s.

The same must be said when he applies Christ’s words “Ye are the light of the world” and “Ye are the salt of the earth” to those from whom he seeks help. Jesus addressed these words to His disciples:

“Ye are the salt of the earth…” — Matthew 5:13.

“Ye are the light of the world.” — Matthew 5:14.

They are not a charter granting the Roman see exclusive possession of Christian light and salt.

This establishes a pattern which becomes decisive in the next paragraph. Jerome does not invent the biblical images; every one of them is scriptural. The question is whether the identifications he places upon them are scriptural. Paul praises the Roman Christians’ faith; Jerome calls Rome the chair of Peter. The Song speaks of the sealed beloved; Jerome uses the image for doctrinal purity. Jeremiah calls the LORD the fountain; Jerome places the broken cisterns around the churches of the East. Christ speaks of good soil, salt and light; Jerome applies those images particularly to Rome.

The distinction is therefore between quotation and proof. A passage may be quoted accurately while being used to support a conclusion it never states.

Letter XV is valuable historical evidence that by AD 376–377 Jerome regarded the Roman church under Damasus as an exceptionally trustworthy centre of orthodoxy and was prepared to describe it as the “chair of Peter.” It does not, by that fact alone, demonstrate that Christ instituted the bishop of Rome as the permanent universal judge of the Church.

The very apostle Jerome invokes gives the controlling principle. Paul does not make the prestige of any church or apostolic figure the final test. He places even apostolic messengers beneath the Gospel already delivered:

“But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:8.

That standard will become increasingly important as Jerome moves from saying that Rome presently preserves the faith to describing communion with Damasus as the rock, the one Passover house, Noah’s ark, and finally the dividing line between gathering and scattering.

From the “Chair of Peter” to the One Saving House: Jerome’s Appeal to Damasus Tested Against Scripture

Jerome’s second paragraph moves considerably beyond the praise of Roman orthodoxy with which the letter began. He now presents communion with Damasus and with what he calls the “chair of Peter” in language drawn from some of Scripture’s strongest images of salvation: the rock, the Passover house, Noah’s ark, the flock, and finally Christ’s own declaration that whoever does not gather with Him scatters. Because these images concern salvation itself, they cannot simply be transferred to an ecclesiastical office without examining whether Scripture makes that identification. Jerome begins:

“Yet, though your greatness terrifies me, your kindness attracts me. From the priest I demand the safe-keeping of the victim, from the shepherd the protection due to the sheep. Away with all that is overweening; let the state of Roman majesty withdraw. My words are spoken to the successor of the fisherman, to the disciple of the cross.”

Jerome expressly denies that he is appealing to Damasus merely because Rome possesses imperial prestige. “Let the state of Roman majesty withdraw.” His argument is intended to be theological. Damasus is approached as “the successor of the fisherman,” Peter. That immediately raises the question which must govern the whole passage: where does Scripture say that the bishop of Rome succeeds Peter in an office carrying Peter’s apostolic authority over the Church? Peter was unquestionably one of Christ’s apostles and occupied a prominent place among the Twelve. But the New Testament never records Peter establishing an hereditary Petrine office in Rome, never says that his unique apostolic commission would pass to successive Roman bishops, and never instructs Christians to identify communion with Christ by communion with Peter’s supposed Roman successor. Peter himself speaks differently when addressing the rulers of local churches: “The elders which are among you I exhort, who am also an elder, and a witness of the sufferings of Christ…” — 1 Peter 5:1. He instructs them: “Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof…” — 1 Peter 5:2. And immediately warns: “Neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock.” — 1 Peter 5:3. Peter then identifies the supreme shepherd, not as himself nor as a future successor: “And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.” — 1 Peter 5:4. The Chief Shepherd is Christ. That makes Jerome’s next statement particularly significant:

“As I follow no leader save Christ, so I communicate with none but your blessedness, that is with the chair of Peter.”

The first assertion is thoroughly apostolic: “I follow no leader save Christ.” The difficulty lies in what Jerome immediately attaches to it. If Christ alone is the leader, by what scriptural institution does communion with Christ become dependent upon communion with the episcopal chair occupied by Damasus?

Paul confronted precisely the tendency to identify Christians by allegiance to distinguished teachers and apostles: “Every one of you saith, I am of Paul; and I of Apollos; and I of Cephas; and I of Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 1:12. Paul does not answer by saying that Cephas possesses the chair with which everyone must communicate. He responds: “Is Christ divided? was Paul crucified for you? or were ye baptized in the name of Paul?” — 1 Corinthians 1:13. Later he again includes Peter; Cephas, among the ministers who belong to the believers rather than rulers through whom believers must belong to Christ: “Therefore let no man glory in men. For all things are yours; Whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas… And ye are Christ’s; and Christ is God’s.” — 1 Corinthians 3:21–23.

Paul does not say, you are Cephas’s and therefore Christ’s. He says that Paul, Apollos and Cephas are theirs, while “ye are Christ’s.” Nor was Peter placed above correction by the other apostles. At Antioch Paul says: “But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.” — Galatians 2:11. The criterion by which Peter was judged was not his office but the Gospel: “But when I saw that they walked not uprightly according to the truth of the gospel…” — Galatians 2:14. Peter therefore stands beneath the apostolic Gospel just as every other Christian teacher does.

Jerome nevertheless continues:

“For this, I know, is the rock on which the church is built!”

The reference is plainly Matthew 16:18: “And I say also unto thee, That thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church…” Even if one grants the strongest possible Petrine reading and understands Peter himself to be included in the “rock,” the verse still says nothing about Rome, nothing about Damasus, nothing about an inheritable universal office, and nothing about subsequent Roman bishops becoming the necessary centre of Christian communion.

The rest of the New Testament also prevents the foundation of the Church from being reduced to one continuing Roman office. Paul says that believers: “Are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone.” — Ephesians 2:20. Revelation describes the holy city as having: “Twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.” — Revelation 21:14. And Paul gives the ultimate foundation unequivocally: “For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 3:11. Jerome therefore moves through several unstated propositions: Peter is the rock; Peter’s foundational role passes to successors; those successors uniquely occupy Rome; Damasus is therefore the present holder of that authority; and communion with his chair consequently marks the boundaries of the saving Church. Matthew 16 itself establishes none of those subsequent steps.

Jerome’s own later writings make it even more difficult to turn this sentence into proof of an exclusive Roman foundation. In Against Jovinian I.26, written years after these letters, Jerome again acknowledges the argument that the Church was founded upon Peter, but immediately qualifies it: the same authority is attributed to the other apostles, they all receive the keys, and, in Jerome’s own words, “the strength of the Church depends upon them all alike.” Peter may therefore have a particular primacy in Jerome’s reasoning, especially as a remedy against schism, but Jerome himself does not make the other apostles derive their foundational authority from Peter.

That later explanation fits the language of Ephesians 2:20 and Revelation 21:14 far better than an exclusively Roman reading. The apostolic foundation is plural, while Christ remains the chief cornerstone.

Jerome is even more explicit in Letter 146 to Evangelus. Discussing bishops in Rome and throughout the world, he insists that there is not one church at Rome and another church everywhere else. He says, “If you ask for authority, the world outweighs its capital,” and concludes of bishops throughout the churches: “All alike are successors of the apostles.”

Those statements do not erase Jerome’s high estimate of Rome in Letters XV and XVI. They do, however, prevent those letters from being isolated as though Jerome taught that the Roman bishop alone inherited apostolic authority while every other bishop possessed authority only through him. Jerome’s own wider ecclesiology is more complicated: he can appeal passionately to the Roman “chair of Peter” in a crisis while elsewhere affirming one episcopal dignity throughout the world and calling all bishops successors of the apostles.

That is an important distinction between Petrine prominence and exclusive universal jurisdiction. The first is plainly present in Jerome. The second still requires proof.

Jerome then introduces a still more striking image:

“This is the house where alone the paschal lamb can be rightly eaten.”

The imagery comes naturally from the Passover: “In one house shall it be eaten; thou shalt not carry forth ought of the flesh abroad out of the house…” — Exodus 12:46. Christ is indeed explicitly identified with Passover: “For even Christ our passover is sacrificed for us.” — 1 Corinthians 5:7.

The objection is therefore not that Christ cannot be called the Passover Lamb, nor that the Passover and the sin offering were the same sacrifice. They were distinct sacrifices, and the New Testament interprets Christ through more than one sacrificial pattern. The problem is Jerome’s additional ecclesiological step: he makes the one house of Exodus the Roman communion and says that there alone the Lamb can be rightly eaten. Exodus never makes that identification.

Paul’s own use of the Passover image is especially revealing. He writes “Christ our passover” to the church at Corinth, yet gives no instruction that the Corinthians can keep the feast rightly only by remaining in communion with a Roman bishop. In the same epistle he gives extensive instructions concerning the Lord’s Supper in 1 Corinthians 11 without appealing to Rome, Peter’s chair, or Roman authorization as the condition of valid participation.

The whole New Testament sacrificial witness must therefore be considered before one feature of Exodus 12 is converted into proof of an exclusive earthly ecclesiastical house. Christ is our Passover, but Hebrews also presents His death as the final sin-bearing sacrifice and deliberately invokes the Levitical sacrifices whose blood entered the sanctuary.

Precisely there Scripture gives a pattern which cannot be reconciled with making the eating of the victim inside one institutional enclosure the controlling image of reconciliation. Leviticus states: “And no sin offering, whereof any of the blood is brought into the tabernacle of the congregation to reconcile withal in the holy place, shall be eaten: it shall be burnt in the fire.” — Leviticus 6:30. This is crucial. When the blood of the sin offering was brought into the sanctuary to make reconciliation, that sacrifice was specifically not to be eaten. Leviticus repeats the principle in the Day of Atonement legislation. After the blood has been brought into the holy place, the remains of the sin offerings are carried outside the camp: “And the bullock for the sin offering, and the goat for the sin offering, whose blood was brought in to make atonement in the holy place, shall one carry forth without the camp; and they shall burn in the fire their skins, and their flesh, and their dung.” — Leviticus 16:27. The author of Hebrews explicitly takes this sacrificial legislation and applies it to Jesus: “For the bodies of those beasts, whose blood is brought into the sanctuary by the high priest for sin, are burned without the camp.” — Hebrews 13:11. And then comes the fulfilment: “Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate.” — Hebrews 13:12. This cannot be overlooked when Jerome says:

“This is the house where alone the paschal lamb can be rightly eaten.”

The New Testament deliberately directs attention outside the gate. Christ’s final sin-bearing sacrifice is not presented as a victim whose sacrificial flesh must remain inside one earthly ecclesiastical house in order to confer reconciliation. Hebrews expressly associates His death with those sacrifices whose blood entered the sanctuary and whose bodies were not eaten, but taken outside the camp and burned. Indeed, Hebrews draws an immediate conclusion for believers: “Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach.” — Hebrews 13:13. The direction is almost the reverse of Jerome’s imagery. Jerome says, in effect, remain inside this one house, for here alone the Lamb is rightly eaten. Hebrews says of the fulfilment of the sin offering, go forth unto Him without the camp.

The distinction between the Passover and the sin offering must be preserved precisely because it strengthens, rather than weakens, the argument. Exodus commands the Passover lamb to be eaten within one house; Leviticus gives a different rule for the sin offering whose blood is brought into the sanctuary for reconciliation. Christ fulfils both Passover and sin-bearing sacrificial imagery, but Jerome cannot isolate the first rule and make it an exclusive ecclesiological law while ignoring the second pattern which Hebrews itself explicitly applies to Jesus.

When the subject is sanctification and reconciliation through His blood, Leviticus 6:30 says that sacrifice shall not be eaten, Leviticus 16:27 takes its body outside the camp, and Hebrews 13:11–12 deliberately says that Jesus suffered “without the gate.” This becomes particularly significant wherever later Christian theology attempts to make the repeated sacramental eating of Christ’s sacrificial victim the means by which His sacrifice is represented or applied as a propitiatory offering. Hebrews has already declared that Christ’s sacrifice differs radically from continually repeated priestly offerings: “Nor yet that he should offer himself often…” — Hebrews 9:25. “But now once in the end of the world hath he appeared to put away sin by the sacrifice of himself.” — Hebrews 9:26. “So Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many…” — Hebrews 9:28. And again: “By the which will we are sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all.” — Hebrews 10:10. “Every priest standeth daily ministering and offering oftentimes the same sacrifices, which can never take away sins: But this man, after he had offered one sacrifice for sins for ever, sat down on the right hand of God.” — Hebrews 10:11–12.

Jerome’s immediate purpose in Letter XV is not yet to construct the later doctrine of the Mass. It would therefore be historically unfair to force the whole Tridentine sacrificial system back into this single fourth-century sentence. Nevertheless, his image of the Roman communion as the one house in which the Paschal Lamb may rightly be eaten must be tested against the whole scriptural presentation of Christ’s sacrifice, not merely one feature of Exodus 12. And when that is done, the picture changes considerably. Christ is our Passover. Yet Christ is also the final sin offering. His blood accomplishes reconciliation. The Levitical sacrifice whose blood entered the sanctuary for reconciliation was not eaten. Its body went outside the camp. Hebrews deliberately declares that Jesus fulfilled this pattern by suffering “without the gate.” Salvation therefore cannot be reduced to sacramentally remaining inside a particular earthly ecclesiastical “house.”

Jerome then adds another image of exclusive salvation:

“This is the ark of Noah, and he who is not found in it shall perish when the flood prevails.”

Again, Scripture itself uses Noah’s ark typologically. But Peter, whose “chair” Jerome is invoking, does not identify the ark with communion with Rome: “Eight souls were saved by water. The like figure whereunto even baptism doth also now save us… by the resurrection of Jesus Christ.” — 1 Peter 3:20–21. Peter’s interpretation leads to Christ’s resurrection, not to a Roman episcopal chair. The apostolic declaration of the boundary of salvation is similarly direct: “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.” — Acts 4:12. The saving name is Jesus Christ. Christ Himself describes the sheep according to their relationship with Him: “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.” — John 10:27. And although there is one flock, Scripture identifies its supreme Shepherd: “There shall be one fold, and one shepherd.” — John 10:16. Peter himself tells us who that Shepherd is when he calls Christ the “chief Shepherd” in 1 Peter 5:4. Jerome next explains that distance prevents him from continually consulting Damasus and that he therefore associates with Egyptian confessors who share Damasus’s faith. He then rejects the competing Antiochene bishops:

“I know nothing of Vitalis; I reject Meletius; I have nothing to do with Paulinus.”

This historical setting matters. Jerome is trying to navigate the Antiochene schism and discover with whom he can safely communicate. His language should therefore not automatically be read as though the fully developed papal system of later centuries had already appeared complete. But what Jerome says next is nevertheless extraordinary:

“He that gathers not with you scatters; he that is not of Christ is of Antichrist.”

The first clause directly adapts the words of Jesus. Christ said: “He that is not with me is against me; and he that gathereth not with me scattereth abroad.” — Matthew 12:30. Jerome says to Damasus:

“He that gathers not with you scatters.”

The change is fundamental. Christ: “with ME.” Jerome: “with YOU.” In Christ’s saying the dividing line is allegiance to Christ Himself. Jerome applies that dividing line to Damasus. It would be one thing for Jerome to say that Damasus presently teaches the apostolic faith and that Christians should therefore remain united with those who teach that same Gospel. But Jerome has already called Damasus Peter’s successor, identified his chair with the rock, described that communion as the one Passover house and Noah’s ark, and now adapts Christ’s own declaration so that failure to gather with Damasus becomes scattering. Scripture nowhere authorizes this substitution.

The force of the change is even clearer in Latin. Matthew 12:30 has Christ say, “qui non congregat mecum, spargit”—the decisive word is mecum, “with me.” Jerome, addressing Damasus, writes “Quicumque tecum non colligit, spargit”—tecum, “with you.” The verbs vary, but the pronoun is the theological point: mecum becomes tecum. Christ’s “with me” has been adapted into Jerome’s “with you.”

That makes the movement impossible to dismiss as merely an English translator’s choice. Jerome himself has taken a saying in which Christ is the dividing line and applied that dividing line personally to Damasus. This does not require us to claim that Jerome consciously intended to replace Christ. His apparent assumption is that communion with Damasus represents communion with the true Church. But that assumption is exactly what requires scriptural proof; the text of Matthew does not provide it.

Indeed, Paul places every human authority, even himself and the other apostles, under the prior authority of the Gospel: “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:8. “As we said before, so say I now again, If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:9. Paul does not say that the identity of the Gospel is determined by whoever occupies a particular apostolic chair. He says that even “we”, the apostles themselves, would stand condemned if they preached contrary to the Gospel already delivered. This is precisely what occurred when Peter’s conduct at Antioch departed from “the truth of the gospel.” Paul did not submit the Gospel to Peter. He submitted Peter’s conduct to the Gospel. Jerome then finishes the contrast:

“he that is not of Christ is of Antichrist.”

That sentiment can certainly be expressed biblically. John writes: “And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist…” — 1 John 4:3. But John’s test is Christ. He does not say that failure to communicate with the bishop of Rome establishes that a person belongs to Antichrist. Jerome has therefore constructed a chain of equivalences which Scripture itself does not give: Damasus → successor of Peter → chair of Peter → rock → one Passover house → Noah’s ark → gathering with Damasus → belonging to Christ. 

Each biblical image is genuine.

The problem is the identification of those images with the Roman chair. The Passover claim makes the problem particularly vivid. Scripture does indeed say that the original Passover lamb was eaten in one house. But when Scripture itself explains Christ’s final sin-bearing sacrifice, it also directs us to a different Levitical category: the sacrifice whose blood enters the sanctuary for reconciliation must not be eaten, and its body is taken outside the camp. Hebrews then says explicitly: “Wherefore Jesus also, that he might sanctify the people with his own blood, suffered without the gate.” — Hebrews 13:12. And therefore: “Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp…” — Hebrews 13:13. The New Testament’s centre is thus not an earthly chair, city or ecclesiastical enclosure. It is the crucified and risen Christ who suffered outside the gate, entered the heavenly sanctuary by His own blood, completed the sacrifice once for all, and remains the one mediator between God and men. Jerome’s sentence “I follow no leader save Christ” is therefore the standard by which the rest of his own paragraph must be judged. If Christ alone is the leader, then neither Peter, Damasus nor any subsequent bishop can be placed into Christ’s own “with me” unless Scripture itself authorizes that identification. It does not.

The Dispute Over “Three Hypostases”

Jerome now explains the immediate theological difficulty which prompted his appeal to Damasus:

“Just now, I am sorry to say, those Arians, the Campenses, are trying to extort from me, a Roman Christian, their unheard-of formula of three hypostases.”

This section must be treated rather differently from his claims concerning Rome because the dispute here is substantially one of language. Jerome asks what his opponents mean by “three hypostases.” They answer:

“three persons subsisting.”

Jerome immediately replies:

“this is my belief.”

That admission is decisive. Jerome and these eastern Christians can agree upon the underlying concept while disagreeing about which technical Greek term should express it. The word hypostasis was still capable of carrying different meanings. It could mean something roughly equivalent to a distinct subsisting person, in which case “three hypostases” expressed the three persons. But it could also be heard as “substance” or “essence,” in which case “three hypostases” might sound like three divine essences or three Gods. Jerome therefore says:

“They are not satisfied with the meaning, they demand the term.”

In this particular point Jerome identifies a real danger: theological orthodoxy can become confused with compulsory vocabulary even when two parties confess substantially the same belief. He consequently says:

“If any man refuse… to acknowledge three hypostases in the sense of three things hypostatized, that is three persons subsisting, let him be anathema.”

Yet he also says:

“if any one, understanding by hypostasis essence, deny that in the three persons there is one hypostasis, he has no part in Christ.”

There is no genuine contradiction once Jerome’s definitions are recognized. If hypostasis means person, there are three. If hypostasis means essence, there is one. The disagreement is therefore partly semantic. This makes Jerome’s own statement, “They are not satisfied with the meaning, they demand the term”, particularly significant. Scripture itself warns against allowing disputes about terminology to eclipse the substance of apostolic truth: “Charging them before the Lord that they strive not about words to no profit…” — 2 Timothy 2:14. Paul also warns of: “questions and strifes of words…” — 1 Timothy 6:4. This does not mean that precise theological language is unnecessary. Words can conceal serious doctrinal errors, and the fourth-century controversy over the nature of Christ and His relation to the Father demonstrates why Christians had to ask what particular expressions meant.

Jerome is entirely justified in demanding a definition before agreeing to the term. But his own reasoning shows why terminology must remain subordinate to revealed truth rather than becoming revelation itself. The New Testament does not contain the developed formula “three hypostases” as a creedal test. Nor does it contain the exact later Latin formula “three persons, one substance.” Such language may legitimately summarize biblical teaching, but it must be judged according to whether it expresses Scripture accurately. The apostolic obligation is: “Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.” — 2 Timothy 1:13. And: “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:21. The contrast with Jerome’s previous paragraph is therefore revealing. In the hypostasis dispute, Jerome insists that one must determine the meaning behind theological language rather than condemn somebody simply for using a different term.

Yet in his appeal to Damasus he takes a succession of biblical images and attaches them to the Roman chair without demonstrating that Scripture gives them that meaning. Christ says, “gathereth not with me.” Jerome says, “gathers not with you.” Exodus places the Passover in one house. Jerome makes that house the Roman communion. Yet Leviticus says that the sin offering whose blood enters the sanctuary for reconciliation shall not be eaten, and Hebrews declares that Jesus fulfilled that sacrificial pattern by suffering without the gate. The scriptural question therefore remains unavoidable: by what apostolic revelation did communion with the crucified Christ, whose sacrifice was completed once for all outside the gate, become equivalent to communion with the episcopal chair of Rome? Jerome asserts that equivalence.

The apostles do not.

This paragraph is particularly useful because the Synod of Alexandria that Jerome himself has just invoked had already addressed this exact vocabulary dispute and accepted both “one hypostasis” and “three hypostases” when their meaning was explained. That makes Jerome’s suspicion of the eastern wording much harder to sustain. (New Advent)

When Theological Vocabulary Becomes a New Test of Faith

Jerome now presses Damasus for a decision:

“If you think fit enact a decree; and then I shall not hesitate to speak of three hypostases. Order a new creed to supersede the Nicene; and then, whether we are Arians or orthodox, one confession will do for us all.”

This should not be read woodenly as though Jerome were calmly asking the bishop of Rome to abolish the Nicene Creed and replace it by papal decree. His language is plainly rhetorical and sarcastic. His point is that if Christians are now to be compelled to confess the new formula “three hypostases,” then, in his view, they are effectively being required to add a new verbal test to the faith already defined at Nicæa. Nevertheless, what follows remains important for understanding Jerome’s attitude toward Damasus. After protesting against the imposition of new terminology, Jerome eventually tells him:

“Let us keep to one hypostasis, if such be your pleasure…”

and again:

“if you think it right that I should speak of three hypostases, explaining what I mean by them, I am ready to submit.”

Jerome is therefore willing to allow Damasus to determine which theological terminology Jerome himself will use. That tells us something important about Jerome’s personal deference to Rome at this stage of his life. But it is not the same thing as proof that Christ gave the bishop of Rome authority to create binding theological vocabulary for the universal Church. Jerome’s willingness to submit is evidence concerning Jerome’s ecclesiology; it is not itself evidence of an apostolic institution. More strikingly, the historical background shows that the dispute did not actually require Damasus to create a new rule. Jerome had already referred to the “decree of Alexandria.” Yet the Synod of Alexandria of AD 362, associated with Athanasius, had specifically investigated the dispute between Christians who confessed three hypostases and Christians who confessed one hypostasis. Those who said “three” explained that they did not mean three Gods or three separate divine essences, but the real subsistence of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Those who said “one” explained that they meant one divine essence and nature, not a denial of the distinct Father, Son and Spirit. Having heard the explanations, the synod accepted both groups as orthodox and concluded that the expressions themselves should not be pressed as tests of communion. The Nicene faith was sufficient. (New Advent) That is remarkably close to what Jerome himself eventually admits.

He says:

“They give a plausible explanation of the term hypostasis; yet when I profess to hold it in the same sense they count me a heretic.”

And later:

“If their belief corresponds to their explanation of it, I do not condemn them for keeping it. On the other hand, if my belief corresponds to their expressed opinions, they should allow me to set forth their meaning in my own words.”

Here Jerome reaches the essential issue. They believe the same thing. Jerome accepts three subsisting persons. They accept three subsisting persons. Jerome accepts one divine nature. They accept one divine nature. The dispute concerns which word should express these realities. This makes his earlier accusation considerably less convincing:

“there is poison hidden under their honey; the angel of Satan has transformed himself into an angel of light.”

The Scripture he invokes is 2 Corinthians 11:14: “And no marvel; for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light.” But Paul’s context must be remembered. Immediately before this Paul speaks of: “For such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of Christ.” — 2 Corinthians 11:13. Paul has evidence of false teachers presenting themselves deceptively as apostles of Christ. Jerome, by contrast, has just admitted that when his opponents explain what they mean by “three hypostases,” their meaning corresponds to his own belief. Calling their terminology the disguised poison of Satan therefore goes substantially beyond the evidence Jerome himself supplies. The biblical test is doctrine, not suspicion generated merely by vocabulary. Paul commands: “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.” — 1 Thessalonians 5:21. And warns Timothy: “Charging them before the Lord that they strive not about words to no profit, but to the subverting of the hearers.” — 2 Timothy 2:14. That warning becomes particularly appropriate here because Jerome himself says:

“It is a bad sign when those who mean the same thing use different words.”

Yet different words do not necessarily indicate different faith. The New Testament itself demonstrates why hypostasis could not safely be treated as though it possessed only one fixed technical meaning. The Greek word ὑπόστασις — hypostasis occurs in Hebrews 1:3, where the KJV speaks of Christ as: “the express image of his person.” The underlying word translated “person” is hypostasis. But the same Greek word occurs in Hebrews 11:1: “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for…” There the KJV translates hypostasis as “substance.” Paul also uses the word in contexts where it can convey assurance or confidence. The word therefore possessed a range of meanings even within the New Testament itself. Context determines what it signifies. That is precisely why the Alexandrian settlement was sensible: ask what the speaker means before condemning him for the word he uses. The historical irony is considerable. The very formulation Jerome fears; three hypostases, became normal orthodox Greek Trinitarian terminology. Greek theologians increasingly distinguished ousia, the one divine essence, from hypostasis, the three distinct subsistences or persons. Later theological usage therefore moved substantially toward the terminology Jerome was presently treating with suspicion. (Christian Classics Ethereal Library) Jerome was not defending Arianism, of course. His theological concern was the opposite. He feared that if hypostasis meant “essence,” then “three hypostases” would mean three divine essences, and therefore three Gods. He explains:

“And can any one, I ask, be so profane as to speak of three essences or substances in the Godhead?”

On that point his concern is perfectly understandable. Scripture certainly teaches that there is one God: “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD.” — Deuteronomy 6:4. Paul repeats: “But to us there is but one God, the Father, of whom are all things…” — 1 Corinthians 8:6. And the Father, Son and Holy Ghost are presented distinctly within that divine revelation. Christ commands baptism: “in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.” — Matthew 28:19. Jerome therefore confesses:

“one substance and… three subsisting persons—perfect, equal, coeternal.”

The exact formula “one substance and three persons” is not a sentence found in Scripture. It is theological vocabulary developed to express what Christians believed Scripture required them to confess concerning Father, Son and Holy Ghost. That distinction is important. A theological formula may be an accurate summary of Scripture without itself becoming additional revelation. Its legitimacy must depend upon whether it faithfully expresses biblical truth. But Jerome does something more when he argues for “essence” from God’s declaration to Moses:

“God alone who is eternal, that is to say, who has no beginning, really deserves to be called an essence. Therefore also He says to Moses from the bush, ‘I am that I am,’ and Moses says of Him, ‘I am hath sent me.’”

The biblical text is Exodus 3:14: “And God said unto Moses, I AM THAT I AM: and he said, Thus shalt thou say unto the children of Israel, I AM hath sent me unto you.” The verse unquestionably presents God in a unique way. He is not a created being dependent upon another. Scripture elsewhere makes His eternal existence explicit: “Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.” — Psalm 90:2. And: “I am the LORD, I change not.” — Malachi 3:6. Jerome is therefore right to distinguish the eternal Creator radically from created things. But he goes further than Exodus itself when he interprets “I AM” as a technical philosophical statement about essence or absolute being. The text says: “I AM THAT I AM.” It does not say: “I alone possess essence.” That is Jerome’s metaphysical interpretation of the divine name, not the wording of Moses. This becomes still clearer when Jerome says of creation:

“All things besides, that is all things created, although they appear to be, are not.”

That statement cannot simply be attributed to Scripture. The Bible does not teach that created things merely “appear to be” but do not truly exist. Genesis repeatedly declares that God actually created things: “And God saw every thing that he had made, and, behold, it was very good.” — Genesis 1:31. John says: “All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made.” — John 1:3. Paul similarly says of Christ: “For by him were all things created, that are in heaven, and that are in earth, visible and invisible…” — Colossians 1:16. Created existence is therefore dependent existence, but it is still real existence. Scripture certainly distinguishes creation from the eternal Creator. Created things had a beginning; God did not. Creation depends continuously upon God: “For in him we live, and move, and have our being.” — Acts 17:28. But dependence upon God does not mean that creatures “are not.” Jerome has moved here from biblical revelation into philosophical ontology. That distinction matters because theological language can quietly acquire authority by being placed beside Scripture. God says “I AM THAT I AM”; Jerome explains this in terms of “absolute being,” “essence,” and the lesser mode of existence of created things. Some of that reasoning may be philosophically coherent, but the philosophical explanation should not be confused with the inspired statement itself. There is another revealing feature of Jerome’s argument. He repeatedly attacks the eastern Christians as potentially Arian:

“And if this is true, why are we severed by walls from Arius, when in dishonesty we are one with him?”

But this conclusion only follows if “three hypostases” means three divine essences. The people Jerome is arguing with have expressly denied that meaning. They have told him that they mean:

“three persons subsisting.”

Jerome himself responded:

“this is my belief.”

Therefore his argument against “three hypostases” depends upon assigning to their word a meaning which they themselves have denied. The Alexandrian council had already recognized precisely this problem. It examined what each party intended rather than condemning them merely because one said “three hypostases” and another said “one.” Once their meanings were explained, both formulations were permitted and the parties were reconciled. (New Advent) Jerome’s own final reasoning eventually reaches essentially the same conclusion:

“If their belief corresponds to their explanation of it, I do not condemn them for keeping it.”

That sentence should govern the entire controversy. If their confessed doctrine is true, why condemn their vocabulary? And if Jerome himself confesses the same doctrine in different words, why should they condemn him? This exposes a much larger problem which would recur repeatedly in later ecclesiastical history: when does a theological vocabulary intended to defend revelation itself become a compulsory test of Christian communion? The apostles warned about adding requirements to the Gospel. At Jerusalem, Peter condemned those who attempted to impose an additional religious burden upon believers: “Now therefore why tempt ye God, to put a yoke upon the neck of the disciples…?” — Acts 15:10. The apostles certainly defended doctrine vigorously. They condemned another gospel, another Jesus and another spirit. But their criterion was revealed truth. Paul could say: “But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:8. The standard is what had been preached and received. That is substantially different from saying that Christians who confess the same revealed truth must nevertheless be condemned because they refuse a later preferred technical term. Jerome himself appears to recognize the danger when he says:

“Why are they so tenacious of a word?”

That question deserves to be turned upon the entire controversy. Why should either one hypostasis or three hypostases divide believers when both parties explicitly reject Arianism, explicitly reject Sabellianism, confess one Godhead, and confess Father, Son and Holy Ghost as genuinely distinct? The Synod of Alexandria had already given the more restrained answer: determine what each side means, recognize the shared faith, and do not impose either disputed formula as though the salvation of Christians depended upon it. (New Advent) This makes Jerome’s appeal to Damasus especially revealing. Instead of simply resting upon that solution, he tells the Roman bishop:

“if you think it right that I should speak of three hypostases… I am ready to submit.”

The practical question has therefore shifted. It is no longer merely: What does Scripture teach? It is becoming: Which terminology will the bishop authorize me to use? That distinction is fundamental for tracing the development of ecclesiastical authority. Damasus might make a prudent judgment. He might resolve confusion. He might recommend vocabulary that prevents misunderstanding. None of those things proves that Christ established his decree as an additional rule of faith. Scripture remains the standard by which even ecclesiastical decisions must be tested. Jerome’s own argument demonstrates why. He initially suspects “three hypostases” of concealing Arian poison. Yet the Christians using the expression explain it in an orthodox sense; the Synod of Alexandria had already accepted that very interpretation; and “three hypostases” would itself become established orthodox Greek language. The problem was therefore not necessarily false doctrine. It was language. And once Christians who “mean the same thing” begin treating different theological vocabulary as grounds for accusations of heresy, Jerome’s own complaint becomes the most scriptural warning in the paragraph:

“Why are they so tenacious of a word?”

The Church is commanded to contend for the faith. It is not given authority to transform every later philosophical term into revelation. The difference must remain clear: Scripture gives the truth; theological vocabulary attempts to describe that truth; ecclesiastical authority may defend that vocabulary; but none of these later formulations can become the Word of God merely because a bishop decrees them. There is a particularly strong point here for the eventual full article: Jerome invokes the Alexandrian decree, but Alexandria had already said not to press “one” versus “three” hypostases when both meanings were orthodox. That makes this far more than a modern objection to Jerome—the fourth-century evidence itself exposes the problem. (New Advent)

Jerome Asks Rome to Authorize Both His Words and His Communion

Jerome now makes his request explicit:

“I implore your blessedness, therefore, by the crucified Saviour of the world, and by the consubstantial trinity, to authorize me by letter either to use or to refuse this formula of three hypostases.”

This confirms what the preceding paragraph had already implied. Jerome is not merely asking Damasus for scholarly advice concerning the meaning of hypostasis. He wants the Roman bishop to authorize which theological formula he should use. That is historically important evidence of Jerome’s personal deference to Damasus. Yet once again it does not establish that Scripture gives the bishop of Rome authority to determine Christian terminology. The New Testament directs believers to the apostolic doctrine already delivered: “Hold fast the form of sound words, which thou hast heard of me, in faith and love which is in Christ Jesus.” — 2 Timothy 1:13. And: “Continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them.” — 2 Timothy 3:14. Jerome, by contrast, is asking Damasus whether he may use or refuse a formula which neither Christ nor the apostles prescribed as a verbal confession. This does not make the theological terminology necessarily false. As already seen, “three hypostases,” correctly defined, could express orthodox Trinitarian belief. The issue is the source of its binding authority. Jerome’s own letter demonstrates that Christians who agreed substantially in doctrine were being threatened with separation because they differed over a technical word. Jerome then adds a second request:

“I beg you also to signify with whom I am to communicate at Antioch.”

This is perhaps more important than the request concerning terminology. Jerome is asking Damasus to determine which local Christian bishop he should recognize and with whom he should share ecclesiastical communion. Again, this demonstrates the authority Jerome personally attributes to Damasus during the Antiochene crisis. But it remains necessary to distinguish historical practice from apostolic institution. In Acts 15, when a major doctrinal controversy threatened the churches, the matter was not resolved by sending to the bishop of Rome. The apostles and elders assembled at Jerusalem: “And the apostles and elders came together for to consider of this matter.” — Acts 15:6. Peter spoke. Paul and Barnabas spoke. James gave judgment from Scripture. The resulting letter was issued collectively: “The apostles and elders and brethren send greeting…” — Acts 15:23. Nothing in that account presents one episcopal successor as the universal judge of communion. Likewise Paul commands churches to judge teachers according to the Gospel already received: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:9. The test is therefore apostolic truth, not merely whether a claimant has secured communion with Rome. Jerome himself inadvertently exposes this problem when he says of his opponents:

“they… only desire communion with you to preach with greater authority their traditional doctrine of three hypostases.”

This sentence is particularly revealing. Jerome fears that association with Damasus will give these eastern Christians “greater authority” to propagate their teaching. Thus communion with Rome already carries considerable prestige and persuasive force in Jerome’s mind. But his reasoning creates an obvious difficulty. If communion with Damasus is itself sufficient evidence of orthodoxy, then obtaining that communion ought to settle the matter. Yet Jerome plainly fears that people he considers dangerous might obtain Roman recognition and then use it to strengthen their position. That means Roman communion cannot itself be an infallible substitute for testing doctrine. Jerome still believes the doctrine must be examined.

And this brings the argument back to Scripture: “Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they are of God…” — 1 John 4:1. The apostolic command is to test. Even an impressive ecclesiastical endorsement cannot transform error into truth, nor can absence of such endorsement transform apostolic truth into error. Section 5 therefore adds an important historical clarification. Jerome is asking Damasus for two forms of authorization: which words he should confess and which bishop he should recognize. This demonstrates a strong Roman orientation in Jerome’s ecclesiology by the late fourth century. But it still does not demonstrate that Christ instituted such authority in the Roman see. Jerome’s own fear that men might obtain communion with Damasus and thereby preach “with greater authority” shows why ecclesiastical endorsement cannot replace the scriptural test. A doctrine is not true because Rome authorizes its teacher; its truth must finally depend upon whether it accords with the revelation already delivered through Christ and His apostles.

When Jerome Makes Rome the Test of Communion

Letter XVI, written only a few months after Jerome's first appeal to Damasus, shows that his uncertainty has not been resolved. He remains in the Syrian desert surrounded by the competing factions of Antioch and again turns to the bishop of Rome for a decision. The letter is therefore important not merely because Jerome once more praises the “chair of Peter,” but because he now states with exceptional clarity the practical rule by which he intends to determine Christian communion:

“He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me.”

The statement deserves close examination because it is Jerome's rule. The question remains whether it is also Christ's. Jerome opens with a succession of biblical examples intended to persuade Damasus to answer his repeated appeal:

“By her importunity the widow in the gospel at last gained a hearing, and by the same means one friend induced another to give him bread at midnight, when his door was shut and his servants were in bed. The publican's prayers overcame God, although God is invincible. Nineveh was saved by its tears from the impending ruin caused by its sin.”

The underlying biblical principle is persistence in prayer and repentance. Christ's parable of the persistent petitioner teaches that men “ought always to pray, and not to faint” (Luke 18:1). Likewise the friend who continues knocking at midnight eventually receives what he needs because of his persistence: “Though he will not rise and give him, because he is his friend, yet because of his importunity he will rise and give him as many as he needeth.” — Luke 11:8. Jerome's expression that the publican's prayers “overcame God” must obviously be understood rhetorically. The publican did not defeat or compel God. He humbled himself and received the mercy God willingly gives to the repentant: “And the publican, standing afar off, would not lift up so much as his eyes unto heaven, but smote upon his breast, saying, God be merciful to me a sinner.” — Luke 18:13. Christ's conclusion is: “I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other.” — Luke 18:14. Similarly, Nineveh did not overpower an unwilling God with tears. The people repented when warned of judgment: “And God saw their works, that they turned from their evil way; and God repented of the evil, that he had said that he would do unto them; and he did it not.” — Jonah 3:10. These examples establish divine mercy toward persistent or repentant petitioners. They do not establish anything concerning Roman jurisdiction. Jerome is using them personally: as the widow persisted, he intends to persist in asking Damasus for an answer.

Jerome continues:

“Christ Himself brought the robber from the cross to paradise, and, to show that repentance is never too late, He turned a murderer's death into a martyrdom.”

Here Jerome goes beyond the actual biblical account. Scripture calls the men crucified beside Christ “malefactors”: “And there were also two other, malefactors, led with him to be put to death.” — Luke 23:32. The repentant man acknowledges that his punishment is deserved: “And we indeed justly; for we receive the due reward of our deeds: but this man hath done nothing amiss.” — Luke 23:41. Christ then promises him: “Verily I say unto thee, To day shalt thou be with me in paradise.” — Luke 23:43. The mercy is extraordinary, and Jerome is entirely justified in using the event to demonstrate that repentance is not too late while life remains. But Scripture never says that the criminal was a murderer. Nor does it say that his judicial execution became a martyrdom. A martyr, in the developed Christian sense, dies because of his witness to Christ. The thief himself admits that he is being punished justly for his crimes. He certainly confesses Christ and receives salvation, but his crucifixion was not imposed upon him because he confessed Christ. Jerome has therefore embellished the biblical account. The distinction is small compared with the ecclesiological issues that follow, but it is worth observing because it shows again the importance of separating what Scripture says from what Jerome adds to Scripture. Jerome next employs the prodigal son and lost sheep:

“Gladly does Christ embrace the prodigal son when he returns to Him; and, leaving the ninety and nine, the good shepherd carries home on His shoulders the one poor sheep that is left.”

Here the centre of the biblical imagery is unmistakably Christ and God. The shepherd in Christ's parable searches for the lost sheep: “What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?” — Luke 15:4. Jerome asks Damasus, whom he calls a “rich shepherd,” not to neglect him as an “ailing sheep.” As a pastoral analogy that is unobjectionable. Bishops and elders really are commanded to shepherd God's flock. Peter himself says: “Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof…” — 1 Peter 5:2. Yet Peter immediately places every earthly shepherd beneath Christ: “And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away.” — 1 Peter 5:4. Damasus may therefore be called a shepherd in a ministerial sense. He cannot become the Chief Shepherd, nor can his flock replace Christ's flock. Jerome then turns to Paul:

“From a persecutor Paul becomes a preacher. His bodily eyes are blinded to clear the eyes of his soul, and he who once haled Christ's servants in chains before the council of the Jews, lives afterwards to glory in the bonds of Christ.”

Again the essential argument is sound. Acts records Paul's persecution, conversion and subsequent suffering for Christ. Jerome's statement that Paul's bodily blindness occurred “to clear the eyes of his soul” is an interpretation of the event rather than a statement made explicitly by Scripture, but it reflects the obvious transformation narrated in Acts. The real ecclesiological argument begins in the second paragraph. Jerome reminds Damasus:

“As I have already written to you, I, who have received Christ's garb in Rome, am now detained in the waste that borders Syria.”

Once again his baptism at Rome is important to him personally. “Christ's garb” recalls Paul's words: “For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” — Galatians 3:27. But Paul says this of all who have been baptized into Christ. The authority belongs to Christ into whom they are baptized, not to the geographical church in which their baptism occurred. Jerome's Roman baptism can explain his affection and loyalty toward the Roman church; it cannot establish the universal jurisdiction of its bishop. Jerome then explains the extraordinary confusion around him:

“For the Arian frenzy raves, and the powers of the world support it. The church is rent into three factions, and each of these is eager to seize me for its own.”

This historical circumstance is essential to understanding the letter. Jerome is not writing an abstract treatise on papal supremacy. He is a Christian caught between rival ecclesiastical factions, uncertain which bishop of Antioch he should recognize. He wants an external authority whom he trusts to resolve the dispute. That explains his appeal to Rome. But explanation is not institution. A historical crisis can explain why Jerome wants Damasus to decide without demonstrating that Christ established the Roman bishop as the divinely appointed universal judge of such disputes. Jerome then gives his rule:

“I meantime keep crying: ‘He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me.’”

This is even clearer than the language of Letter XV. Jerome is no longer merely saying that Damasus presently confesses sound doctrine. He is using attachment to the “chair of Peter” as his test of ecclesiastical acceptance. Yet no such test occurs in the apostolic writings. John gives a test for fellowship: “That which we have seen and heard declare we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us: and truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.” — 1 John 1:3. The foundation of fellowship is the apostolic witness concerning Christ. Paul gives another test: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:9. Again the criterion is the Gospel already received. The apostles never give Christians the formula: “He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted.” Indeed, Paul's treatment of Cephas gives a substantially different order of authority. When Peter acted contrary to the Gospel, Paul says: “But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.” — Galatians 2:11. And the criterion was: “the truth of the gospel.” — Galatians 2:14. The apostolic pattern is therefore: Peter is tested by the Gospel. Jerome's practical rule is moving toward: Christian communion is tested by attachment to Peter's chair. Those are not the same principle. The internal difficulty in Jerome's rule becomes obvious immediately afterwards:

“Meletius, Vitalis, and Paulinus all profess to cleave to you, and I could believe the assertion if it were made by one of them only. As it is, either two of them or else all three are guilty of falsehood.”

This is one of the most revealing statements in both letters. Jerome's proposed criterion is:

“He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me.”

But all three claimants say that they cling to it. The criterion therefore cannot actually identify the true bishop. Merely claiming Roman communion proves nothing because rival parties can all claim it. Jerome consequently needs something more than the principle “cling to Peter's chair.” He needs Damasus himself to identify which claimant Damasus recognizes. This reveals that the actual operative authority is no longer merely supposed continuity with Peter's doctrine. It is becoming the present judgment of the occupant of the Roman chair. Jerome therefore pleads:

“Therefore I implore your blessedness, by our Lord's cross and passion, those necessary glories of our faith, as you hold an apostolic office, to give an apostolic decision.”

These words demand careful distinction. Jerome calls Damasus's position:

“an apostolic office”

and requests:

“an apostolic decision.”

But the New Testament distinguishes apostles from later pastors and overseers. Paul writes: “And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers.” — Ephesians 4:11. The categories are not simply interchangeable. The original apostolic office also possessed characteristics that cannot simply be reproduced through episcopal succession. When Judas's place among the Twelve was filled, Peter specified that the replacement must be someone who had accompanied Jesus during His earthly ministry and could become: “a witness with us of his resurrection.” — Acts 1:22. Paul similarly defends his apostleship by asking: “Am I not an apostle? am I not free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord?” — 1 Corinthians 9:1. And he opens Galatians: “Paul, an apostle, (not of men, neither by man, but by Jesus Christ, and God the Father…)” — Galatians 1:1.

Apostolic authority was therefore bound to the foundational witnesses commissioned directly by Christ. Paul certainly commands the transmission of apostolic teaching: “And the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.” — 2 Timothy 2:2. But transmitting apostolic doctrine is not identical to inheriting apostleship itself. That distinction is confirmed by Ephesians: “And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone.” — Ephesians 2:20. A foundation is laid; it is not continually relaid in every generation. Revelation similarly gives the New Jerusalem: “twelve foundations, and in them the names of the twelve apostles of the Lamb.” — Revelation 21:14. Damasus may therefore hold a legitimate episcopal office. He may preserve apostolic doctrine. He may even be called “apostolic” in the broad historical sense that his church claims descent from apostolic Christianity. But none of those propositions establishes that his judgment possesses the same authority as a decision delivered by Christ's apostles themselves.

Jerome’s own Letter 146 is again a crucial internal control upon the phrase “apostolic office.” There Jerome does not reserve apostolic succession to Rome. He says of bishops throughout the churches, “All alike are successors of the apostles.” He also insists that the dignity of a bishop at Rome is not a different episcopal dignity from that of bishops elsewhere. Thus even within Jerome’s own writings, calling Damasus’s office “apostolic” cannot simply be equated with saying that Damasus alone inherits the unique authority of Peter over every other bishop. Jerome can call Rome apostolic while also calling the episcopate throughout the world apostolic.

The contrast with the great doctrinal controversy recorded in Acts is instructive. When the question of circumcision threatened the churches, Scripture says: “And the apostles and elders came together for to consider of this matter.” — Acts 15:6. Peter speaks, but he does not issue a solitary universal decree. Paul and Barnabas testify. James reasons from Scripture and gives his judgment. The resulting communication begins: “The apostles and elders and brethren send greeting…” — Acts 15:23. And the decision is presented collectively: “For it seemed good to the Holy Ghost, and to us…” — Acts 15:28. There is no appeal to a Roman bishop to provide an “apostolic decision.” Nor is there a permanent instruction that future doctrinal disputes must be referred to the occupant of Peter's Roman chair. Jerome's terminology therefore records an important development in his understanding of ecclesiastical authority, but the terminology itself cannot prove the apostolic origin of that development. His request is especially revealing because it concerns another ancient apostolic church: Antioch. Jerome does not ask the Antiochene Christians to determine their bishop merely from apostolic Scripture or local evidence. He asks Rome:

“Only tell me by letter with whom I am to communicate in Syria…”

Thus the Roman bishop is being asked to adjudicate which bishop in Syria Jerome should recognize. Again, this demonstrates the considerable authority Jerome personally attributes to Damasus. But it remains a fourth-century practice requiring scriptural justification, not a New Testament command. Jerome then makes a remarkable prayer for Damasus:

“I will pray for you that you may sit in judgment enthroned with the twelve…”

The reference is Christ's promise: “Verily I say unto you, That ye which have followed me, in the regeneration when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his glory, ye also shall sit upon twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” — Matthew 19:28. Christ speaks specifically to the apostolic company that followed Him. Jerome does not actually say that Damasus is one of the Twelve. His wording is “with the twelve,” and it is best understood as a prayer that Damasus may share in heavenly judgment and reward. Scripture elsewhere does speak more generally of saints participating in judgment: “Do ye not know that the saints shall judge the world?” — 1 Corinthians 6:2. Therefore Jerome's prayer need not itself constitute a claim that Damasus becomes a thirteenth apostle. Nevertheless, his choice of Matthew 19:28 continues the striking apostolic language surrounding Damasus. He has called Damasus's position an “apostolic office,” asked him for an “apostolic decision,” and now imagines him enthroned “with the twelve.” Care is therefore necessary in both directions. It would be wrong to pretend Jerome is saying nothing unusually exalted about Roman authority. He plainly is. But it would also be wrong to turn every apostolic comparison into a formal doctrine of papal succession that Jerome has not actually articulated. His next comparison helps demonstrate this point:

“that when you grow old, like Peter, you may be girded not by yourself but by another…”

This comes from Christ's words to Peter: “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, When thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest: but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not.” — John 21:18. John immediately explains: “This spake he, signifying by what death he should glorify God.” — John 21:19. This was a personal prophecy concerning Peter's death. Jerome applies it devotionally to Damasus, apparently wishing that Damasus might ultimately glorify God with the courage of Peter. But the prophecy itself is not transferable by succession. Christ said specifically of Peter: “This spake he, signifying by what death he should glorify God.” If invoking Peter's death does not mean that Damasus literally inherits Peter's personal prophecy, then we must be careful not to treat every comparison between Damasus and Peter as self-evident proof that all of Peter's apostolic privileges have passed to him. Jerome immediately makes the same kind of comparison with Paul:

“and that, like Paul, you may be made a citizen of the heavenly kingdom.”

Yet nobody would conclude from this that Damasus therefore inherited Paul's unique apostolic office. Indeed, the underlying verse says: “For our conversation is in heaven…” — Philippians 3:20. The heavenly citizenship belongs to Christians generally, not uniquely to Paul. Jerome's closing sequence therefore contains comparisons with both Peter and Paul. That shows why analogy must not automatically be converted into succession. The strongest evidence for Jerome's Roman ecclesiology remains elsewhere in the paragraph: his explicit rule that “He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me,” his description of Damasus as holding an “apostolic office,” and his request for an “apostolic decision.” Those are genuine and important statements. But they still have to pass the test Jerome himself has invoked throughout these letters: Scripture. And Scripture never commands: Cling to the Roman chair and you are accepted. It commands: “Abide in me.” — John 15:4. Scripture never says that a later bishop can give a new apostolic decision because he possesses an inherited apostolic office. It commands believers to continue: “stedfastly in the apostles' doctrine…” — Acts 2:42. The difference is profound. Apostolic doctrine can be preserved and transmitted after the apostles die. Apostleship itself does not therefore have to be recreated in every generation. Most revealingly, Jerome's own practical test fails to resolve his immediate problem. He says:

“He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me.”

Yet Meletius, Vitalis and Paulinus all profess to cling to Damasus. The chair alone therefore does not identify the truth. Jerome must ask the man sitting in the chair to decide which claimant is genuine. At that point the governing criterion has shifted from the apostolic Gospel to an ecclesiastical judgment. The New Testament gives the opposite safeguard. Even Peter remains accountable to “the truth of the gospel.” Even Paul places himself beneath the Gospel he has already preached. Even an angel from heaven cannot alter it. The safe apostolic principle is therefore not: “He who clings to the chair of Peter is accepted by me.” It is: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:9. That standard does not depend upon which faction controls a chair, which bishop recognizes another bishop, or which city possesses the greatest ecclesiastical prestige.

It depends upon fidelity to the Gospel once delivered through Christ and His apostles. Letter XVI consequently provides powerful historical evidence that by AD 377–378 Jerome personally attributed exceptional authority to the Roman see. That should neither be denied nor weakened. But historical evidence for Jerome's belief is not biblical evidence for Christ's institution. Jerome tells us whom he will accept: the man who clings to Peter's chair.

The unanswered question remains whether Christ ever gave His Church that test.

Jerome’s Own Evidence Prevents the Later Papal System From Being Read Back Into These Letters

Taken together, Letters XV and XVI are powerful evidence that Jerome in the late 370s regarded the Roman church under Damasus as an exceptionally important centre of orthodoxy and was willing to use striking Petrine language for it. Any fair reading must acknowledge that. He calls Damasus the successor of the fisherman, speaks of Peter’s chair, calls it the rock, asks Damasus for an apostolic decision, and makes attachment to that chair his practical test during the Antiochene crisis.

But those facts still do not amount automatically to the later claim that Christ established a permanently supreme Roman bishop possessing universal jurisdiction over all other bishops and serving as the divinely guaranteed rule of Christian truth.

Three controls prevent that conclusion.

First, Scripture itself never makes the chain of identifications upon which Jerome relies. Paul praises Roman faith but does not call Rome Peter’s chair. Matthew 16 names Peter and the rock but does not name Rome or Damasus. Christ says “with me”; Jerome says “with you.” Exodus places the Passover in one house but never identifies that house with Roman communion, while Hebrews deliberately sends believers to Christ “without the camp.”

Second, Jerome’s immediate crisis shows that the Roman-chair test cannot function by itself. Meletius, Vitalis and Paulinus all claim attachment to Damasus. Jerome therefore cannot simply ask who “clings to Peter’s chair”; he must ask the present Roman bishop to decide which claimant he recognizes. The practical criterion has moved from a historical connection with Peter to the current judgment of the officeholder.

Third, Jerome’s own later writings qualify any exclusive interpretation of his Damasus language. In Against Jovinian I.26 he says that the same foundational authority is attributed to all the apostles, that all receive the keys, and that the strength of the Church depends upon them all alike. In Letter 146 he says that there is not one church at Rome and another throughout the world, that episcopal dignity is one wherever a bishop is found, that “the world outweighs its capital,” and that “All alike are successors of the apostles.”

Jerome therefore supplies evidence for Petrine prominence and a powerful Roman prestige in the fourth century. He does not supply, without further argument, a scriptural demonstration of the later papal system.

That is why the controlling distinction throughout these letters must remain the distinction Jerome’s own rhetoric can obscure: apostolic doctrine is not identical with an apostolic chair, and fidelity to Christ is not established merely by fidelity to the current occupant of a particular see.

The apostolic rule is capable of testing Peter, Paul, Damasus, Rome and every later teacher alike:

“But though we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel unto you than that which we have preached unto you, let him be accursed.” — Galatians 1:8.

Jerome’s letters tell us how urgently he wanted Rome to settle his crisis.

Scripture tells us what remains the final test.