Peter, Rome, and the True Source of Christian Unity
- Michelle Hayman

- 9 hours ago
- 25 min read
Denzinger part 44

Denzinger 1685–1687 may appear, at first glance, to concern a narrow nineteenth-century controversy. The entry comes from a letter of the Sacred Office to the bishops of England, dated September 16, 1864, during the pontificate of Pius IX. The immediate issue was a London society, founded in 1857, that sought to promote unity among Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Anglicans. The society appears to have worked from the assumption that these three communions, though visibly separated, could all claim in some sense to belong to the one Catholic Church. Rome rejected that assumption sharply. The Sacred Office warned Catholics to avoid the society because its foundation, in Rome’s fallible, human judgment, undermined the divine constitution of the Church and encouraged religious indifferentism.
Yet the importance of this text does not lie chiefly in the forgotten London society itself. The deeper significance lies in the ecclesiology that the decree reveals. Denzinger 1685–1687 is not merely concerned with whether Catholics should join a particular ecumenical association. It is concerned with the identity of the Church of Christ, the meaning of Catholic unity, and the place of the Roman See within that unity. The decree is therefore asking one of the most consequential questions in Christian theology: where is the Church of Christ, and where is the source of Christian unity to be found?
The Sacred Office answers that question in unmistakably Roman terms. The true Church of Jesus Christ is not composed of three separated branches, Roman, Eastern, and Anglican. The Church is not a federation of communions that may disagree in doctrine while still possessing equal claim to Catholicity. Rather, the decree insists that the Catholic Church alone is the true Church of Christ, and that this Church is known by the marks confessed in the Creed: unity, holiness, catholicity, and apostolicity. Most significantly, it identifies the visible principle of that unity with Peter and his successors in the Roman Chair. It speaks of the supreme authority and “higher principality” of blessed Peter as the beginning, root, and unfailing origin of ecclesiastical unity.
That is the point at which the real dispute begins. The question is not whether unity matters. It does. Nor is the question whether truth matters. It does. Nor is the question whether Peter matters. He certainly does. The New Testament gives Peter a place of real prominence among the apostles. The serious question is whether Scripture identifies Rome, or communion with the bishop of Rome, as the divinely established root and necessary center of the Church’s unity.
That distinction must be kept clear.
The argument should not be that Peter does not matter. Such an argument would not be faithful to Scripture. Peter is named first in the apostolic lists. Peter confesses Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the living God. Peter receives the words of Matthew 16:18: “Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church.” Peter preaches at Pentecost. Peter is central in the opening chapters of Acts. Peter is involved in the Gospel’s movement to the Gentiles. It is not necessary, and it is not wise, to diminish Peter in order to question later Roman claims.
The better argument is this: Peter matters greatly, but Scripture never identifies Rome as the divinely established root of the Church’s unity. Peter may be a rock, but the New Testament does not move from Peter to Rome, from Rome to Roman succession, from Roman succession to universal jurisdiction, and from universal jurisdiction to the claim that communion with the Roman bishop is the defining mark of the true Church. Those later moves require theological and historical development beyond what the apostolic writings themselves explicitly teach.
This becomes clear when we examine the biblical imagery of the Church. In Matthew 16:18, Peter receives a significant role, but he is not presented as an independent foundation replacing Christ. The rest of the New Testament gives a fuller picture of the building Christ is raising. Christ is the cornerstone. The apostles collectively are the foundation. Believers are living stones. The Church is a spiritual house.
Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 3:11, “For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.” Whatever role any apostle plays, Christ remains the ultimate foundation. No apostolic authority exists apart from Him, above Him, or as a substitute for Him. Paul then writes in Ephesians 2:20 that the household of God is “built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone.” Here the foundation is not Peter alone, but the apostles and prophets collectively, with Christ Himself as the chief cornerstone. The Church is apostolic, but its apostolicity is not reduced to one apostle in isolation. It is built upon the apostolic witness as a whole, and that witness is ordered to Christ.
Peter himself speaks in the same way. In 1 Peter 2:4–5, he writes of Christ as “a living stone, disallowed indeed of men, but chosen of God, and precious,” and then says to believers, “Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house.” He continues in 1 Peter 2:6 by applying the cornerstone prophecy to Christ: “Behold, I lay in Sion a chief corner stone, elect, precious.” This is especially important because Peter does not present himself as the isolated foundation of the Church. He directs attention to Christ as the living stone and cornerstone. He describes believers themselves as living stones. He sees the Church as a spiritual house being built by God.
"And I saw no temple therein: for the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb are the temple of it."
— Revelation 21:22
"In whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord: In whom ye also are builded together for an habitation of God through the Spirit."
— Ephesians 2:21–22
"Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?"
— 1 Corinthians 3:16
In Aramaic, the word is:
Kepha (כיפא / Kēp̄ā')
This means rock, stone, or rock-mass depending on context.
In that sense, Peter can be called a rock without making him the whole foundation. He can be foundational without being the cornerstone. He can have a real role without becoming the root and unfailing origin of the Church’s unity in the way later Roman theology claims. The biblical picture is richer and more corporate. Christ is the cornerstone. The apostles are the foundation. Peter belongs to that apostolic foundation. Believers are living stones. The whole people of God are being built into a spiritual house.
This matters because Rome’s argument often presses Matthew 16 as though the only alternatives are to accept the full Roman doctrine of papal primacy or to deny Peter’s significance altogether. But Scripture itself does not force that choice. One can affirm Peter’s prominence, even Peter’s rock-like role in Matthew 16, while still asking whether the New Testament ever identifies Rome as the necessary center of the Church’s unity.
The New Testament never says, “The Church of Christ is the Roman Church.” It never says, “Unity with Christ requires communion with the bishop of Rome.” It never says, “Peter’s authority is transferred uniquely to Roman successors.” These are not explicit apostolic teachings. They are later ecclesiastical conclusions drawn through a chain of historical and theological reasoning. That chain must be examined rather than simply assumed.
Peter himself does say however:
"And through covetousness shall they with feigned words make merchandise of you: whose judgment now of a long time lingereth not, and their damnation slumbereth not."
— 2 Peter 2:3 (KJV)
"In their greed these teachers will exploit you with fabricated stories."
— 2 Peter 2:3 (NIV)
"And in their greed they will exploit you with false words."
— 2 Peter 2:3 (ESV)
The strongest place to test Rome’s claim is the Epistle to the Romans itself. When Paul writes to the Christians in Rome in the late 50s, there is already a flourishing Christian community there. This is highly significant. Christianity existed in Rome before Paul arrived. Yet Paul does not address the Roman church as Peter’s see. He does not describe it as the visible center of Christian unity. He does not speak of it as the governing church of the Christian world. He does not instruct the Roman believers to look to Peter as their bishop or to Rome as the root of ecclesiastical unity.
Instead, Romans gives us the picture of an organic Christian community consisting of believers, households, workers, Jews, Gentiles, and house churches. In Romans 16:3–5, Paul writes, “Greet Priscilla and Aquila my helpers in Christ Jesus ... likewise greet the church that is in their house.” This is one of the most important passages for understanding early Christianity in Rome. The Roman church appears not as an imperial institution but as a network of Christians meeting in homes. The earliest visible form of Roman Christianity in the New Testament is not a centralized Petrine monarchy but house-church Christianity.
The mention of Aquila and Priscilla opens another important line of thought. Acts 18:2 tells us that Paul “found a certain Jew named Aquila, born in Pontus, lately come from Italy, with his wife Priscilla,” because Claudius had commanded the Jews to depart from Rome. Aquila was from Pontus. That detail matters because Acts 2:9 tells us that Jews from Pontus were present in Jerusalem at Pentecost when Peter preached and when the Gospel was proclaimed in power to Jews from many regions of the Roman world.
No one can prove that Aquila himself was converted at Pentecost. Scripture does not say that. But the connection is historically suggestive. Jews from Pontus were present at Pentecost. Aquila was a Jew from Pontus. Aquila and Priscilla had lived in Italy and later hosted a church in their house. This creates a plausible pathway by which Christianity could have reached Rome through ordinary Jewish and Jewish-Christian networks rather than through a single apostolic founder. Pilgrims, merchants, travelers, exiles, converts, and family connections could have carried the Gospel from Jerusalem into the heart of the empire.
That possibility fits the wider New Testament pattern. The Gospel spreads not only through apostles but also through ordinary believers. Persecution scatters Christians, and those who are scattered preach the word. Households become centers of Christian worship. Workers like Priscilla and Aquila teach others more accurately the way of God. Churches meet in homes long before Christianity becomes legally recognized, socially powerful, or institutionally favored.
This matters for the claim that Rome’s authority rests on a unique Petrine foundation. The New Testament evidence does not show Rome being founded as a supreme ecclesiastical throne. It shows Christian faith already present in Rome through a network of believers. The Roman church, at its earliest visible stage, appears as a spiritual house made up of living stones, not as an imperial structure ruled from a Petrine chair.
Paul’s missionary statement in Romans 15 deepens the difficulty. In Romans 15:20, Paul says, “Yea, so have I strived to preach the gospel, not where Christ was named, lest I should build upon another man’s foundation.” Paul’s principle was to preach Christ where He had not already been named, so that he would not build upon another man’s foundation. Yet Paul still desires to come to Rome and exercise ministry there. He says in Romans 1:11–12 that he longs to see the Roman believers, that he may impart to them some spiritual gift, and that they may be mutually encouraged by one another’s faith.
This does not absolutely prove that Peter had never visited Rome. It does not prove that no apostle had ever touched the city. But it strongly weakens the idea that Rome was already universally known as Peter’s established apostolic see when Paul wrote. If Peter had already founded and governed the Roman church as the supreme apostolic center of Christianity, Paul’s language becomes surprisingly difficult to explain. Why would Paul speak as he does about his missionary principle and his desire to minister in Rome if Rome was already the uniquely Petrine foundation of the entire Church?
Romans 16 adds another noteworthy detail. Paul greets many believers by name. He greets Priscilla and Aquila, Epaenetus, Mary, Andronicus and Junia, Urbanus, Stachys, Apelles, the household of Aristobulus, Herodion, the household of Narcissus, Tryphena, Tryphosa, Persis, Rufus, and many others. Yet Peter is not mentioned. This omission cannot prove Peter’s absence, and it should not be overstated. But it certainly does not support the later Roman claim that Peter was already functioning as bishop of Rome and visible center of Christian unity. If Peter had been present in Rome as its supreme apostolic head, Paul’s silence would be striking.
The original Roman church therefore appears in the New Testament not as an imperial throne but as a community of believers meeting in homes. It appears as a network of living stones built into a spiritual house. It appears as part of the one apostolic faith, but not as the root and source of all ecclesiastical unity. The New Testament gives us Christians in Rome; it does not give us Roman supremacy.
This leads to the historical question: how did Rome become central?
Rome’s later importance is not difficult to understand. It was the capital of the empire. It was the greatest city of the Roman world. It possessed immense prestige, wealth, and visibility. It became associated with the martyrdom of both Peter and Paul. It had an ancient Christian community. As Christianity spread through the empire, Rome naturally became one of the most influential churches.
None of this needs to be denied. Rome was ancient, influential, and politically pre-eminent within the empire. It eventually became one of the most important centers of Christianity. Yet Rome's importance arose from history, geography, and imperial prominence, not from any explicit declaration of Christ. Nor should the martyrdom of Peter and Paul be treated as though the blood of the apostles somehow consecrated Rome as the permanent capital of the Church. The apostles were not honored by Rome; they were executed by Rome. Their deaths testify to the triumph of Christ over persecution, not to the divine elevation of the city that put them to death. Historical prominence is not the same thing as divine institution. The fact that Rome became important does not prove that Christ established Rome as the necessary center of Christian unity
The Council of Chalcedon is important here. Canon 28 of Chalcedon famously explained Rome’s privileges in relation to its status as the imperial city. It stated that the fathers rightly gave privileges to the throne of Old Rome because it was the royal city, and that Constantinople, as New Rome, should enjoy similar privileges because it too was honored with imperial and senatorial rank. This canon is extremely revealing because it shows that many bishops in the fifth century understood Roman primacy, at least in part, through political and historical realities. Rome was honored because it was Rome: the old imperial capital, the royal city, the center of the empire.
That does not mean every Christian in antiquity viewed Rome's prominence merely in political terms. It does mean, however, that Rome's rise was shaped by imperial status, historical influence, ecclesiastical custom, apostolic memory, and centuries of development—not simply by a divine decree.
The martyrdom of Peter and Paul deserves the highest respect. But their blood did not sanctify Rome or establish it as the permanent center of the Church. Their deaths testify to Christ's faithfulness in the face of persecution, not to the divine authority of the city that put them to death.
The Roman church naturally gained prestige through its association with these apostles. Yet prestige is not jurisdiction, and honor is not universal authority. The New Testament nowhere teaches that a city acquires perpetual supremacy because apostles died there. The fact that Rome became influential is a matter of history. The claim that Christ established Rome as the necessary center of Christian unity is a theological conclusion that still requires proof.
Scripture itself warns against making sacred geography carry more theological weight than God gives it. Jerusalem had a far stronger biblical claim to sacred status than Rome ever had. Jerusalem was the city of David. It was the city of the Temple. It was the place where God had caused His name to dwell. It was the city of prophets, priests, kings, sacrifices, feasts, and covenants. Yet Jesus lamented over it in Matthew 23:37: “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee.” Sacred history did not guarantee perpetual authority for Jerusalem. A city may be honored by God’s past acts and still come under judgment. Therefore, the fact that Peter and Paul were martyred in Rome cannot by itself establish Rome as the permanent seat of divine ecclesiastical authority.
The appeal to Pope Julius I in the fourth century is also revealing. Julius wrote, “Do you not know that it is the custom to write to us first, and that here what is just is decided?” This statement is often used to show Rome’s early authority, and it does show that Rome had acquired a recognized role in certain disputes. But the key word is “custom.” Julius appeals to a practice that had developed. He does not say, “Do you not know that Christ commanded all churches to appeal to Rome first?” He does not say, “Do you not know that Matthew 16 establishes universal Roman jurisdiction?” He does not appeal to a New Testament text or an apostolic decree. He appeals to custom.
That distinction matters. Custom can explain the development of Rome’s influence. Custom can show that churches increasingly looked to Rome in moments of crisis. Custom may even reveal that Rome had acquired a special place of honor and appeal. But custom does not prove that universal Roman jurisdiction was divinely instituted from the beginning. An ecclesiastical practice that develops over time is not the same thing as an explicit command of Christ.
This is the central difficulty with the claim made in Denzinger 1685–1687. Rome’s argument moves through several stages. It begins with Peter. It then moves from Peter to Rome. It moves from Rome to Roman succession. It moves from Roman succession to universal jurisdiction. Finally, it concludes that communion with Rome is the necessary mark of the true Church’s unity.
Scripture clearly establishes the first point: Peter matters. Peter is prominent. Peter has a foundational apostolic role. Peter may indeed be the rock of Matthew 16. But the remaining steps are not explicitly established in Scripture. The New Testament does not say that Peter’s role becomes a Roman office. It does not say that this Roman office possesses universal jurisdiction over the whole Church. It does not say that communion with the bishop of Rome is the defining mark of the true Church. Those conclusions require later historical and theological development.
The New Testament gives us a different emphasis. It presents Christ as the cornerstone. It presents the apostles collectively as the foundation. It presents believers as living stones. It presents the Church as a spiritual house. It presents local churches meeting in homes. It presents unity as grounded in one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one Spirit, and the apostolic Gospel. It presents the people of God as being built together in Christ, not as deriving their unity from one imperial city.
This is why Denzinger 1685–1687 remains so important. The decree is not merely condemning an ecumenical society. It is revealing a major Roman assumption about the nature of the Church: that the Church’s visible unity depends upon communion with the Roman See because Peter and his successors are the root and unfailing origin of that unity. But this is precisely the claim that must be tested. It cannot simply be assumed from Matthew 16. It must be demonstrated from the whole witness of Scripture.
If the Church is a spiritual house, then Christ is the cornerstone, the apostles are the foundation, and believers are the living stones being built together by the Spirit. Peter has an important place within that structure, but the structure itself is not Rome. The New Testament never identifies the Roman church as the cornerstone, the foundation, the source of the Spirit's indwelling, or the necessary center from which the whole body derives its unity.
Rome was an apostolic church. It later became one of the most influential political-religious institutions in the Christian world, shaped by imperial privilege, wealth, political significance, and centuries of ecclesiastical development. Its rise to prominence is a matter of history. The claim that Christ appointed it as the indispensable center of Christian unity is a theological assertion that still requires demonstration. The question is not whether Rome became great in Christian history. The question is whether Christ established Rome as the indispensable center of His Church's unity. That is precisely the claim Denzinger assumes, yet it is not a claim the New Testament ever explicitly makes.
The real debate, then, is not whether Christian unity matters. It does. Nor is it whether doctrinal truth matters. It does. Nor is it whether Peter mattered. He did. The real debate is whether the unity of the Church is rooted in Christ and the apostolic faith, or whether it is rooted in communion with the Roman bishop. Denzinger 1685–1687 answers that question in Rome’s favor. But the New Testament’s own imagery of cornerstone, foundation, living stones, house churches, and apostolic Gospel gives us strong reason to examine that answer carefully.
The burden of proof remains with the claim that Rome is not merely an ancient and honored apostolic church, but the divinely established root, source, and necessary center of Christian unity. That claim reaches beyond the explicit testimony of Scripture. It depends upon a chain of later historical and theological developments. And for that reason, it is not only worthwhile to dispute Denzinger 1685–1687; it is necessary to do so if we are asking where Christ Himself located the unity of His Church.
Denzinger 1686 and the Problem of Making Rome the Root of Christian Unity
Denzinger 1686 deserves close attention because it does not merely condemn a particular nineteenth-century society. It exposes a whole doctrine of the Church. The Sacred Office is not simply warning Catholics against careless ecumenism. It is making a theological claim about where the Church of Christ is found, how Christian unity is maintained, and what role the Roman See plays in that unity. For that reason, the passage must not be passed over lightly. It is one of those texts where the deeper assumptions of Roman ecclesiology come into plain view.
The statement begins by objecting to the foundation of the London society. According to the Sacred Office, the society’s error was that it supposed “the true Church of Jesus Christ” to be composed partly of the Roman Church, partly of the “schism of Photius,” and partly of “the Anglican heresy.” In other words, Rome rejected the idea that Roman Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, and Anglicans could be treated as separated portions of one larger Catholic Church. The Sacred Office regarded such a view as making “the divine establishment of the Church of no consequence.”
At one level, the concern is understandable. Christian unity cannot be built upon indifference to truth. If different communions teach contradictory doctrines, one cannot simply pretend those contradictions do not matter. Scripture does not call Christians to a sentimental unity without truth. Paul writes that there is “one Lord, one faith, one baptism” (Ephesians 4:5), and Jude exhorts believers to “contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints” (Jude 3). Unity that ignores doctrine is not the unity of the Spirit. In that sense, Rome was not wrong to resist the idea that doctrinal divisions can be waved away by polite religious language.
But Denzinger 1686 goes much further than that. It does not merely say that unity must be unity in truth. It identifies the visible root of that unity with Peter and his successors in the Roman Chair. The passage declares that the Catholic Church alone is conspicuous and perfect in the unity of the whole world, particularly in that unity whose “beginning, root, and unfailing origin” is the supreme authority and “higher principality” of blessed Peter and his successors in Rome. It then concludes that no other Church is Catholic except the one which, founded on the one Peter, grows into one body in the unity of faith and charity.
This is the point that must be disputed.
The New Testament does not present Peter as the “prince of the apostles” in the later Roman sense. Peter is prominent, but prominence is not monarchy. Peter speaks boldly, but he is also corrected. Peter leads, but he does not rule the apostles as a prince over subjects. When he writes to the elders of the Church, he does not style himself as the supreme earthly head of the Church or as a monarch over the apostolic college. He writes with striking humility:
“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).
That phrase matters deeply: “who am also an elder.” Peter calls himself a fellow elder. He does not say, “I, the prince of the apostles, command you from the supreme chair.” He does not present himself as the root and unfailing origin of the Church’s unity. He identifies himself as a witness of Christ’s sufferings and a partaker of the glory that shall be revealed. His authority is real, but it is pastoral, apostolic, and Christ-centered, not imperial.
The very passage continues with a warning against the kind of lordly authority that later ecclesiastical claims can so easily resemble. Peter tells the elders:
“Feed the flock of God which is among you, taking the oversight thereof, not by constraint, but willingly; not for filthy lucre, but of a ready mind; neither as being lords over God’s heritage, but being ensamples to the flock” (1 Peter 5:2–3).
This should give us pause. Peter exhorts elders not to lord it over God’s heritage. He directs them to shepherd the flock as examples, under the authority of the true Shepherd. He then says:
“And when the chief Shepherd shall appear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not away” (1 Peter 5:4).
For Peter, the “chief Shepherd” is not Peter. The chief Shepherd is Christ. Peter does not place himself at the summit as the continuing visible monarch of the universal Church. He places himself among the elders, under Christ, awaiting the appearing of the true Shepherd.
This is why the language of “prince of the apostles” requires scrutiny. If by “prince” one means that Peter was prominent, first-named, bold in confession, and central in the early mission, then the point can be granted in a limited sense. But if “prince” means that Peter possessed a monarchical authority over the apostles that was then transferred to the bishops of Rome as universal jurisdiction over the Church, then Scripture does not establish that claim. Peter himself gives us no such doctrine. He would surely be mortified by any use of his name that obscured Christ’s supremacy, displaced the apostolic foundation as a whole, or turned pastoral oversight into dominion over God’s inheritance.
This is especially important because Denzinger 1686 uses Ephesians in a way that deserves careful examination. The decree cites Ephesians 4:3, “careful to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace,” and Ephesians 4:5, “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” Later it alludes to Ephesians 4:16, speaking of the Church as one body “compacted and fitly joined together.” But the question is whether Ephesians 4 actually teaches what the Sacred Office uses it to support.
Ephesians 4 is one of the great biblical passages on Christian unity, but its center is not Rome.
Paul writes:
“There is one body, and one Spirit, even as ye are called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all” (Ephesians 4:4–6).
The unity Paul describes is Trinitarian, spiritual, and Christ-centered. It is grounded in one Spirit, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one God and Father. Paul does not say there is one Roman See, one papal chair, or one earthly bishop from whom unity derives. The unity of the Church is the unity of those who share the same Lord, the same faith, the same baptism, and the same Spirit.
The wider context makes this even clearer. Ephesians 4 goes on to say that Christ Himself gave gifts to the Church:
“And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers” (Ephesians 4:11).
The purpose of these gifts is “the perfecting of the saints,” “the work of the ministry,” and “the edifying of the body of Christ” (Ephesians 4:12). The goal is that the whole body may come “unto the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God” (Ephesians 4:13). Again, the movement is toward Christ. The unity is the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the Son of God. It is not defined as submission to Rome.
When Paul reaches the language used by Denzinger, he writes:
“From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth ... maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love” (Ephesians 4:16).
The crucial phrase is “from whom.” From whom does the whole body grow? The answer in context is Christ. Paul has just said that believers are to “grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ” (Ephesians 4:15). The body grows from Christ the Head, not from Peter as an earthly root, and not from Rome as an administrative center. Ephesians 4:16 cannot honestly be made to say that the Church grows into unity from the Roman Chair. Its own grammar and context locate the source of the body’s growth in Christ.
This does not mean visible order is irrelevant. Paul clearly believes in ministry, teaching, pastoral oversight, and doctrinal maturity. But Ephesians 4 does not teach Roman universal jurisdiction. It teaches that the ascended Christ gives gifts to His Church so that the whole body may mature in the unity of the faith. The Church is joined together by what every joint supplies, not by reducing the whole body to one earthly see. The whole passage is profoundly organic. It describes a living body growing from Christ its Head, not an empire held together by a central office.
This brings us back to the earlier biblical image of the Church as a spiritual house. Peter himself says believers are “living stones” built into a spiritual house (1 Peter 2:5). Paul says the Church is built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus Himself as the cornerstone (Ephesians 2:20). This means the Church’s unity is not rooted in geography, empire, or one city. It is rooted in Christ, the apostolic witness, and the indwelling Spirit. The people of God are the temple. The Church is not holy because it is headquartered in an imperial city. It is holy because God dwells in His people by the Spirit.
This is why the treatment of the Eastern Orthodox and Anglicans in Denzinger 1686 must also be examined carefully. Rome describes Eastern Orthodoxy as “the schism of Photius” and Anglicanism as “heresy.” These labels are polemical and loaded. They are not neutral descriptions. They are designed to establish from the outset that Rome alone possesses the fullness of Catholic identity. Yet the deeper issue remains: does separation from Rome automatically mean separation from the Church of Christ?
Denzinger says yes in practice, because it identifies the unity of the Church with communion with the Roman See. But the New Testament presents the Church in terms of union with Christ, fidelity to apostolic teaching, life in the Spirit, baptism into one body, and confession of the one Lord. That does not make doctrine irrelevant. It does not mean all communions are equally faithful. It does not mean schism is harmless. It does not mean visible unity is unnecessary. But it does mean that Rome cannot simply assume that the boundary of the Church of Christ is identical with the boundary of Roman jurisdiction.
The decree is also concerned that praying for unity under the leadership of those it calls heretics would be intolerable because the intention of such prayer is “polluted and infected” with heresy. Again, one can understand the concern at a certain level. Prayer is not neutral. To pray for unity while denying the truth would be spiritually dangerous. But here the question must be pressed back upon Rome. If the principle is that Catholics must shun religious movements that promote unity on compromised doctrinal foundations, then how consistently is that principle applied?
Denzinger 1687 says that the faithful should shun the London society because those sympathizing with it “favor indifferentism and engender scandal.” The charge is serious. Indifferentism means treating doctrinal truth as though it does not finally matter, as though all forms of religion are equally acceptable, or as though unity can be achieved without repentance, truth, and fidelity to Christ. If that is the standard, then the question becomes unavoidable: what happens when Rome herself participates in forms of interfaith dialogue that appear to many believers to blur the uniqueness of Christ, obscure the call to repentance, or treat non-Christian religions as though they were simply alternative paths of spiritual ascent?
This is not a cheap rhetorical point. It is a matter of consistency. If nineteenth-century Catholics were told to shun a society because it pursued Christian unity on what Rome judged to be a false doctrinal foundation, then ordinary Christians today are entitled to ask whether the same standard applies whenever religious dialogue seems to compromise the exclusive claims of Christ. If praying with separated Christians for unity was once condemned as scandalous because of doctrinal danger, then how should one evaluate interfaith gestures that involve religions which do not confess Christ as Lord at all?
The question is not whether Christians should be courteous to others. They should. Nor is the question whether Christians may speak peacefully with those outside their communion. They may. Nor is the question whether Christians should desire reconciliation and peace. They should. The question is whether a church may condemn others for indifferentism while later appearing to practice forms of religious engagement that create the very scandal it once denounced.
If the answer is that Rome’s own interfaith and ecumenical gestures must be interpreted carefully, generously, and in light of official doctrine, then fairness requires the same carefulness when evaluating others. But if the standard is strict, then it must be strict consistently. One cannot condemn a London society for seeming to blur doctrinal boundaries while excusing every later ambiguity on the grounds of pastoral diplomacy. The issue is not merely historical. It exposes the tension between exclusive ecclesiological claims and public religious practice.
The deeper problem is that Denzinger 1686 identifies the Church’s unity too closely with Roman authority. Once that move is made, any Christian unity not ordered toward Rome can be treated as false unity, and any prayer for unity outside Roman control can be treated as suspect. But Scripture gives a more profound account of unity. The true Church is a spiritual house made of people indwelt by the same Holy Spirit. Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 12:13, “For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body.” The unity of the body is not produced by imperial geography or Roman administration. It is produced by the Spirit who joins believers to Christ.
Likewise, Paul tells the Corinthians, “Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” (1 Corinthians 3:16). The Church is the temple because God dwells in His people. Peter says believers are built up as a spiritual house. Paul says believers are built together “for an habitation of God through the Spirit” (Ephesians 2:22). These are not secondary images. They are central New Testament descriptions of the Church.
This does not abolish visible order, doctrine, discipline, or apostolic teaching. The Church is not an invisible abstraction. But it does challenge any claim that makes one earthly city the root and unfailing origin of Christian unity. The Spirit is not confined to Rome, nor is the presence of God restricted to any geographical center. God is not a local deity whose activity is bound to a single city, throne, or institution. Christ is not mediated to the whole body through one imperial see, and the apostolic foundation is not reducible to one apostle's supposed Roman succession. The body grows from Christ the Head.
Jesus Himself declared:
"The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, and whither it goeth: so is every one that is born of the Spirit" (John 3:8).
The Lord's point is not that the Spirit is chaotic, but that He is sovereign. The Spirit is not controlled, contained, or administered by any earthly institution. He moves where He wills, gives life where He wills, and unites believers to Christ wherever they are found. The unity of the Church therefore rests ultimately in the living presence of Christ and the indwelling Spirit, not in proximity to a particular city or submission to a particular ecclesiastical center.
Therefore, the most serious objection to Denzinger 1686 is not that it cares too much about unity. It is that it locates the root of unity in the wrong place. Ephesians 4 does indeed command believers to keep “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” But the unity of the Spirit is not the same thing as institutional submission to Rome. Ephesians 4 does indeed teach “one Lord, one faith, one baptism.” But that confession points to Christ, not to the Roman Chair. Ephesians 4:16 does indeed speak of the body joined and compacted together. But the body grows from Christ the Head, not from Peter as a prince or from Rome as a juridical center.
Peter’s own words stand as a rebuke to excessive claims made in his name. He calls himself a fellow elder. He warns shepherds not to lord it over God’s heritage. He points to Christ as the chief Shepherd. He identifies believers as living stones. He confesses Christ as the cornerstone. If Peter is honored rightly, he must be honored as Peter presents himself: a witness of Christ, an apostle within the apostolic foundation, a shepherd under the chief Shepherd, and a stone within the house Christ is building.
The Church of Christ is not made of one city ruling the rest. It is a spiritual house. It is a body growing from Christ the Head. It is a temple indwelt by the Holy Spirit. It is founded upon the apostolic witness, with Christ Himself as the cornerstone. Any doctrine of unity that obscures that order must be disputed, no matter how ancient or authoritative its claims may appear.
Denzinger 1686 therefore cannot be allowed to pass as though it were merely defending orthodoxy against indifferentism. It is doing something far larger. It is identifying the Roman See as the necessary root of the Church’s unity and treating Christian unity outside Roman leadership as inherently suspect. That claim must be tested by Scripture. When it is tested, the evidence does not support the weight Rome places upon it. Peter is not presented as a prince ruling over the apostles. Ephesians 4 does not make Rome the source of the body’s growth. The Church is not defined by an imperial center. The faithful are living stones built upon Christ, joined by the Spirit, and nourished by the apostolic faith.
If Rome warns Christians to shun societies that favor indifferentism and cause scandal, then Rome must also be judged by the same principle whenever its own religious practice appears to blur the uniqueness of Christ or the boundaries of apostolic truth. Truth cannot be demanded from others while ambiguity is excused in oneself. The Church’s unity must be unity in Christ, unity in the Spirit, and unity in the apostolic faith. It cannot be reduced to communion with Rome unless Scripture itself teaches that reduction.
And that is precisely what Scripture does not do.



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