The Church of Christ or the Monarchy of Rome?
- Michelle Hayman

- Jun 13
- 18 min read
Denzinger Part 26

The Baptism of Jewish Children
Denzinger 1480–1490 raises significant theological and biblical questions because the conclusions reached in the document depend upon a series of assumptions that are themselves highly disputed. While Benedict XIV rejects the more radical medieval proposal that Jewish children should ordinarily be baptized against the wishes of their parents, the document nevertheless permits exceptions and ultimately teaches that an illicit baptism can create obligations that supersede parental authority. The result is a policy that rests upon doctrines that are not clearly established by Scripture.
The first major assumption is the doctrine of inherited guilt. The reasoning behind emergency baptism depends upon the belief that infants are born under divine condemnation and require sacramental cleansing in order to be saved. Yet Scripture nowhere explicitly states that infants inherit the personal guilt of Adam. The passage most frequently cited in support of inherited guilt is Romans 5:12, where Paul writes, "Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned." Significantly, Paul does not say that guilt spread to all men because Adam sinned. He says that death spread to all because all sinned.
The biblical text clearly teaches that Adam's sin introduced death into the human race. Through Adam, mortality, corruption, suffering, and separation from the Tree of Life entered the world. However, Scripture repeatedly connects guilt and judgment to the sins actually committed by the individual. The prophet Ezekiel states this principle in the clearest possible language:
"The soul that sinneth, it shall die. The son shall not bear the iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the iniquity of the son" (Ezekiel 18:20).
This declaration strikes directly at the concept of inherited guilt. Not only does the son not bear the guilt of the father, but the father does not bear the guilt of the son. Responsibility before God is personal.
Jeremiah teaches the same principle:
"Every one shall die for his own iniquity" (Jeremiah 31:30).
Throughout Scripture, judgment is consistently based upon one's own sins rather than the guilt of another. While all humanity inherits mortality because of Adam, nowhere does Scripture plainly teach that infants inherit Adam's personal guilt and stand condemned before they have committed any sin of their own.
This becomes even more significant when considering the biblical descriptions of children. Scripture frequently distinguishes those who possess moral understanding from those who do not. Speaking of Israel's children,
God says:
"Your little ones, which ye said should be a prey, and your children, which in that day had no knowledge between good and evil, they shall go in thither" (Deuteronomy 1:39).
The children are specifically described as not yet possessing knowledge of good and evil. Likewise, Isaiah speaks of a child reaching the point when he will "know to refuse the evil, and choose the good" (Isaiah 7:16). These passages recognize a distinction between those capable of moral understanding and those who are not. Infants do not possess the capacity to understand sin, repentance, faith, or obedience. The Bible nowhere teaches that God condemns those who have not yet attained moral awareness.
The second assumption is that water baptism is ordinarily necessary for salvation. Benedict's exception allowing the baptism of dying Jewish infants only makes sense if unbaptized infants are thought to be in grave spiritual danger. Yet Scripture nowhere directly states that an infant who dies without baptism is excluded from salvation. Jesus says:
"Let the little children come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of heaven" (Matthew 19:14).
Christ does not portray children as standing under condemnation awaiting sacramental rescue. Rather, He presents them as examples of those who belong to the kingdom.
Moreover, the New Testament consistently places emphasis upon faith as the means by which salvation is received. Jesus declares:
"He that believeth on him is not condemned" (John 3:18).
Paul tells the Philippian jailer:
"Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved" (Acts 16:31).
Again Paul writes:
"Therefore being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 5:1).
The repeated New Testament pattern is faith first, then baptism. Those who heard Peter's preaching were "pricked in their heart" before being baptized (Acts 2:37–41). The Samaritans believed Philip before they were baptized (Acts 8:12). The Ethiopian eunuch confessed faith before baptism (Acts 8:36–38). Cornelius received the Holy Spirit before baptism (Acts 10:44–48). Lydia's heart was opened by the Lord before baptism (Acts 16:14–15). The jailer believed before baptism (Acts 16:30–34).
In every clear conversion account, faith precedes baptism. Baptism follows belief as an outward confession of an inward reality. Infants cannot repent, cannot believe, cannot confess Christ, cannot understand the gospel, and cannot consciously receive Him. The New Testament never presents baptism as a substitute for personal faith.
This leads to a third difficulty involving the doctrine of Baptism of Desire. Catholic theology itself developed the concept of Baptism of Desire in order to explain how catechumens, martyrs, and sincere believers might receive salvation even when they died before receiving sacramental baptism. Yet if God can grant the grace signified by baptism apart from the rite itself, the urgency behind emergency baptisms becomes less convincing. If divine mercy can extend beyond the sacrament in extraordinary circumstances, then it becomes difficult to explain why a dying Jewish infant must be baptized against parental wishes rather than entrusted to the justice and mercy of God.
Even more fundamentally, the New Testament teaches that the baptism which ultimately saves is the work of the Holy Spirit. John the Baptist distinguished his water baptism from Christ's greater baptism:
"I indeed baptize you with water unto repentance ... but he shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost" (Matthew 3:11).
Paul teaches:
"For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body" (1 Corinthians 12:13).
The New Testament repeatedly points beyond the external washing to the inward work of God. Water baptism symbolizes what the Spirit accomplishes. It is therefore difficult to argue that a physical ceremony performed upon an unconscious infant is the decisive factor determining eternal destiny.
The most troubling aspect of the document appears in paragraph 1490. Benedict acknowledges that a baptism may be performed unlawfully. Nevertheless, because the baptism is considered valid, the child may then be removed from Jewish parents and raised among Christians. This conclusion creates a profound tension with the biblical doctrine of parental authority and raises some of the most serious questions in the entire document.
The gravity of this teaching becomes clearer when one realizes that it was not merely a theoretical discussion. The principles articulated here eventually produced real-world consequences. The most famous example is the Mortara case of 1858. Edgardo Mortara was a Jewish child living in Bologna under papal rule. A Catholic servant secretly baptized him when he was ill because she feared he might die. The baptism was performed without the knowledge or consent of his parents. Under the principles reflected in Denzinger 1490, the baptism was regarded as illicit but valid. Once Church authorities learned of the baptism, they concluded that the child had become a Christian and therefore could not remain under Jewish religious upbringing. Papal authorities removed the six-year-old boy from his family and raised him under Catholic supervision despite repeated pleas from his parents and widespread international protests.
The significance of the Mortara case is that it demonstrates the practical consequences of the theology expressed in Denzinger 1490. An act acknowledged to be unlawful nevertheless produced permanent consequences that overrode parental rights. The illicit baptism became the basis for ecclesiastical claims over the child.
Scripture consistently places children under the care and responsibility of their parents. Moses commands Israel:
"These words which I command thee this day shall be in thine heart: and thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children" (Deuteronomy 6:6–7).
Paul writes:
"Children, obey your parents in the Lord" (Ephesians 6:1).
Yet nowhere in the New Testament does the Church claim authority to remove children from unbelieving parents because of a sacramental act. The apostles preached, evangelized, baptized, and established churches, but no example exists of ecclesiastical authorities taking custody of children because baptism had occurred.
Defenders of the document may appeal to Christ's teaching that loyalty to Him must take precedence over family ties. Yet the issue here is not whether Christ is greater than family. The issue is whether an infant who has exercised no personal faith, made no personal confession, and demonstrated no conscious allegiance to Christ can be regarded as belonging to the Church in such a way that parental authority may be overridden. Scripture never directly addresses such a scenario, nor does it establish a mechanism by which a sacramental act performed without parental consent transfers authority over a child from parents to ecclesiastical institutions.
The Appeal to Church Authority in the Mortara Case and the Human Cost of Removing Children from Their Parents
One of the most disturbing aspects of the theology reflected in Denzinger 1490 is the way ecclesiastical authority came to override the most fundamental human relationships established by God. The issue is not merely whether a baptism was considered valid. The deeper question is by what authority Church officials believed they could separate a child from loving parents and permanently alter the course of an entire family's life.
In the case of Edgardo Mortara, Church authorities appealed to a chain of theological reasoning. Since the child had received a valid water baptism, he was considered a Christian. Since he was considered a Christian, he was viewed as belonging to the Church. Since he belonged to the Church, the Church believed it possessed a duty to ensure that he received a Christian upbringing. Therefore, Jewish parents could no longer be allowed to raise him in the faith of their ancestors.
To those operating within that theological framework, the reasoning may have appeared logical. Yet the question remains: where did Christ or His apostles ever grant such authority to religious leaders? Where did the New Testament authorize church officials to separate children from their parents because of a sacramental act performed without consent? No such command exists. No apostolic example exists. No clear teaching exists.
Instead, Scripture consistently presents parents as the primary stewards of their children before God. The family is not a creation of the Roman Church, nor of any other religious institution. It is a sacred order established by God Himself before the existence of nations, temples, priesthoods, councils, or ecclesiastical hierarchies. For that reason, no body of mortal men may rightly claim the authority to sever what God has joined together or to usurp responsibilities that God entrusted to parents. It is an institution established by God Himself. Long before there was Israel, long before there was a Church, God ordained marriage and family as the foundational unit of human society.
The commandment to honor father and mother stands among the Ten Commandments. Children are repeatedly instructed to obey their parents. Parents are repeatedly instructed to raise their children in the fear of the Lord. Throughout Scripture, God works through families, not around them.
For this reason, the burden of proof rests heavily upon anyone claiming authority to override parental rights. Such authority would require an unmistakable divine mandate. Yet no such mandate appears in the New Testament.
The human cost of these actions is difficult to overstate. Historical discussions often focus on theological principles and ecclesiastical decisions, but behind every such decision stood real human beings. In the Mortara case, a mother lost her son. A father lost his son. Brothers and sisters lost a member of their family. The child himself was permanently separated from the people who loved him most.
One must imagine what such an event would mean from the perspective of the parents. They had committed no crime. They had not abandoned their child. They had not abused him. They had not neglected him. Their only offense was that they were Jews raising their son according to the faith of their fathers. Yet because of a secret baptism performed without their knowledge, they suddenly found themselves powerless before an institution claiming a higher authority than their own God-given rights as parents.
The emotional devastation would have been immense. Every family bond was torn apart. Every ordinary expression of parental love became subject to ecclesiastical control. The grief of such parents cannot be measured merely in legal or theological terms. It was the grief of losing a living child while still being forced to watch that child grow up apart from them.
Nor should the impact upon the child be minimized. Children form their identity through family, language, culture, memory, and affection. To remove a child from his parents is not simply to change his religious instruction. It is to uproot his entire world. It creates confusion regarding identity, belonging, loyalty, and love. The child is placed in the impossible position of choosing between those who gave him life and those who claim authority over his soul.
Even if those carrying out such actions sincerely believed they were acting for the child's good, sincerity alone does not establish righteousness. Throughout history, many harmful actions have been committed by people convinced they were serving God.
This is one of the great dangers of religious authority when it becomes detached from humility. Once individuals become convinced that they possess a unique authority to determine the spiritual destiny of others, they may begin to justify actions that would otherwise be recognized as grave injustices. The conviction that one is acting for God can become a powerful temptation to override ordinary moral restraints.
Jesus repeatedly warned against such attitudes. The religious leaders of His day believed themselves to be guardians of truth and defenders of God's honor. Yet Christ condemned them because they elevated their traditions and authority above the weightier matters of justice, mercy, and faithfulness.
The question raised by the Mortara case is therefore not merely whether Church officials acted consistently with their theology. The deeper question is whether their theology had granted them powers that God Himself never entrusted to them.
The New Testament presents Christ as the Shepherd of souls. It presents the Holy Spirit as the One who convicts, draws, teaches, and regenerates. It presents faith as a response to God's grace. What it does not present is a class of religious authorities possessing the right to separate children from their parents because they believe they know God's will better than the family God Himself established.
The tragedy of the Mortara case serves as a warning about the consequences of combining sacramental absolutism with institutional power. Once a church claims authority not merely to teach, persuade, and evangelize, but to exercise jurisdiction over children apart from parental consent, it crosses into territory that Scripture never clearly grants. The result is that ordinary families become vulnerable to decisions made by mortal men who believe they possess a higher claim upon a child than the parents whom God entrusted with that child's care.
The deepest concern is not simply that mistakes were made. It is that a theological system developed in which such actions could be defended as righteous. When human authority becomes convinced that it acts in the place of God, it may begin to claim rights over the lives of others that belong to God alone. The history surrounding Denzinger 1490 stands as a sobering example of how doctrines concerning baptism, ecclesiastical authority, and salvation can produce consequences far beyond the realm of abstract theology and profoundly affect the lives of real families.
The Doctrine of Papal Supremacy
Denzinger 1500 represents one of the most significant claims in the history of Roman Catholic theology because it concerns the very question upon which the entire Roman system ultimately rests: where did Christ place supreme authority within His Church? The document does not merely honor Peter as a prominent apostle, nor does it merely acknowledge the historical importance of the Church of Rome. Rather, it asserts that the Roman Pontiff is the visible head of the universal Church, the vicar of Christ, the supreme judge of all Christians, the source from whom ecclesiastical authority flows to other bishops, and the possessor of a plenitude of power that belongs to him by divine right. These are not minor claims. They are among the most sweeping claims of authority ever made by any Christian institution.
If they are true, then the later doctrines of papal supremacy, universal jurisdiction, infallibility, reserved powers, appeals to Rome, and centralized ecclesiastical government are justified. If they are not true, then much of the later Roman structure rests upon foundations that neither Christ nor His apostles explicitly laid.
The central difficulty with Denzinger 1500 is that it assumes a conclusion that Scripture never plainly states. The New Testament unquestionably presents Peter as an important apostle. No serious student of Scripture denies this. Peter is often the first to speak. Peter preaches at Pentecost. Peter plays a crucial role in the admission of the Gentiles into the Church. Peter belongs to the innermost circle of Christ's disciples. Yet none of these facts automatically establish the doctrine defended by Denzinger 1500. Prominence is not the same thing as supremacy. Leadership is not the same thing as universal jurisdiction. Influence is not the same thing as monarchy.
The Roman argument traditionally begins with Matthew 16:18–19. Christ says to Peter, "Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will build my church," and then promises him the keys of the kingdom of heaven. Roman Catholic theology argues that Peter was thereby established as the visible head of the Church and that this authority was perpetuated in the bishops of Rome. Yet the remarkable fact is that none of these later conclusions are actually stated in the text itself. Christ does not mention Rome. He does not mention successors. He does not mention future bishops. He does not establish a perpetual Roman office. He does not declare that all Christians must submit to Peter's successors. He does not teach that all bishops derive authority from Peter. Every one of these conclusions must be supplied by later theological reasoning.
The gap between the text and the doctrine is enormous. The argument requires several assumptions that are never explicitly stated. One must first assume that Peter's authority was unique among the apostles. One must then assume that this authority was transferable. One must further assume that it passed specifically to the bishops of Rome. One must assume that every bishop of Rome inherits precisely the same authority. One must assume that this authority includes universal jurisdiction over the entire Church. Finally, one must assume that all Christians are obligated to submit to this office as a matter of divine law. Yet none of these assumptions are clearly taught in Matthew 16 itself. The doctrine therefore depends not upon explicit apostolic teaching but upon a chain of inferences extending far beyond the biblical text.
The problem becomes even more apparent when one examines the broader witness of the New Testament. The apostles repeatedly identify Christ, not Peter, as the Head of the Church. Paul writes, "He is the head of the body, the church" (Colossians 1:18). Again he writes, "Christ is the head of the church" (Ephesians 5:23). The New Testament knows only one supreme Head of the Church, and that Head is Jesus Christ. Peter himself directs believers not to himself but to Christ, describing Him as "the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls" (1 Peter 2:25). Indeed, one of the most striking features of the New Testament is the complete absence of papal language. Peter is never called the head of the Church. He is never called the vicar of Christ. He is never called the supreme bishop. He is never called the universal pastor. The apostles never instruct believers to submit to Peter's successors. The silence is particularly striking because these are precisely the claims later defended as essential to the Church's constitution.
The authority that Roman theology often treats as unique to Peter is likewise distributed among the apostles. In Matthew 18:18, Christ extends the authority to bind and loose to the apostolic body as a whole. In John 20:21–23, the risen Christ commissions all the apostles together and entrusts them with authority in His name. The New Testament consistently presents apostolic authority as shared rather than concentrated in a single ruler. Peter undoubtedly occupies a position of leadership, but leadership within a body of equals is very different from the universal monarchy later claimed for the papacy.
This distinction becomes particularly important when one turns to the Book of Acts. If Christ truly intended Peter to function as the supreme ruler of the Church, Acts would seem the natural place for such authority to be demonstrated. Yet the pattern that emerges is not monarchical but collegial. Peter plays a leading role, but he does not govern the Church as a universal monarch. The clearest example is the Council of Jerusalem in Acts 15. Here the Church confronts a controversy that threatened its very unity. If papal supremacy existed, this was the ideal moment for it to appear. Yet Peter does not settle the matter through a sovereign decree. He offers testimony. Discussion follows. James (the lord's brother) then delivers the concluding judgment, and the final decree is issued in the name of the apostles and elders collectively. The council speaks as a council. It does not function as a papal court. The entire episode reflects a conciliar model of authority rather than the monarchical model assumed by Denzinger 1500.
The confrontation recorded in Galatians 2 creates an even greater difficulty. Paul writes, "I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed." This was not a private disagreement over a minor issue. Peter's conduct threatened the truth of the gospel itself. Paul publicly rebuked him before others. Whatever one believes about Peter's role, the incident is extraordinarily difficult to reconcile with the later conception of the pope as the supreme ruler of the Church. Paul does not act as though Peter's office places him beyond correction. He does not defer to Peter's rank. He does not appeal to Peter's authority. Instead, he judges Peter's conduct according to the gospel and openly rebukes him when he finds him in error. The scene fits naturally within a collegial apostolic structure. It fits awkwardly within the later framework of papal supremacy.
At this point an even deeper question must be asked: What is the Church itself?
The doctrine defended by Denzinger 1500 largely assumes that the Church is fundamentally an earthly institution requiring a supreme earthly ruler. Yet this assumption itself deserves examination. The New Testament repeatedly describes the Church in spiritual rather than political categories. The Church is the Body of Christ. The Church is the Temple of the Holy Spirit. The Church is the household of God. The Church is the bride of Christ. The Church is the assembly of those who have been called out of darkness into God's marvelous light.
The Greek word ekklesia itself means an assembly of those who have been called out. The Church is not defined in Scripture as a bureaucratic institution headquartered in a particular city. It is not identified with a single episcopal throne. It is not described as an administrative structure governed by one supreme earthly official. Rather, it is the living community of those who belong to Christ and who have been united to Him through faith and the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit.
Paul writes:
"For by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body" (1 Corinthians 12:13).
The Church comes into existence through the work of the Spirit, not through submission to a Roman jurisdiction.
Again Paul writes:
"Ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular" (1 Corinthians 12:27).
The Church is a living organism before it is an institution.
Peter himself describes believers as:
"Living stones ... built up a spiritual house" (1 Peter 2:5).
The emphasis is not upon a centralized earthly monarchy but upon a spiritual temple composed of believers united to Christ.
Paul goes even further:
"In whom all the building fitly framed together groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord" (Ephesians 2:21).
Christ is the cornerstone.
Believers are the living stones.
The Holy Spirit is the divine presence dwelling within the temple.
Nothing in this imagery suggests that the essence of the Church consists in submission to a bishop in Rome.
The New Testament repeatedly presents Christ Himself as the source of unity within the Church. Believers are one because they share one Lord, one faith, one Spirit, and one baptism. Their unity is rooted in union with Christ rather than in submission to a particular ecclesiastical office.
This is precisely why the earliest Christians could describe the Church as existing wherever Christ's people gathered in His name. The true Church was not ultimately defined by geography, political power, or institutional centralization. It was defined by the presence of Christ among His people and by the indwelling work of the Holy Spirit.
The historical evidence presents equally serious challenges. Denzinger 1500 speaks as though the doctrine it defends has been universally recognized from the beginning. Yet the actual history of the Church is far more complicated. The Church of Rome undoubtedly enjoyed great prestige in the early centuries. It was associated with Peter and Paul. It occupied a prominent place within the Christian world. It often served as an influential center of unity. However, respect for Rome is not the same thing as belief in universal papal jurisdiction. The historical evidence demonstrates honor, influence, and prestige. It does not consistently demonstrate recognition of the pope as the supreme ruler of all Christians.
The churches of the East provide particularly strong evidence against the assumption that papal supremacy was universally accepted. For centuries they maintained a conciliar understanding of Church government. Bishops were understood to receive their authority directly from Christ rather than through dependence upon the bishop of Rome. Councils played a central role in resolving disputes. Even today the Eastern Orthodox churches preserve a model of ecclesiastical government that closely resembles the position condemned by Denzinger 1500.
Perhaps the most significant historical challenge comes from the ancient Syriac tradition. Writers such as Aphraates and Ephrem lived within a world much closer to the language and culture of Jesus than medieval Latin Christianity. They honored Peter, praised Peter, and celebrated Peter's confession. Yet they did not teach universal Roman supremacy. They did not teach that all bishops derive authority from Rome. They did not teach that the bishop of Rome is the visible head of the universal Church.
Instead, they consistently presented Christ as the true Rock. Peter became rock because he participated in Christ. Christ remained the ultimate foundation. Peter's greatness was real, but it was derivative. The same pattern appears throughout Syriac theology. Christ is the true Shepherd and others shepherd through Him. Christ is the true Light and believers become light through Him. Christ is the true Rock and Peter shares in that Rock-like ministry through union with Christ. Their theology remains profoundly Christ-centered rather than institution-centered.
This evidence raises a devastating historical question. If Christ intended the papacy to function as the visible center of Christianity for all ages, why is that doctrine so difficult to find among some of the earliest Christian witnesses closest to the language and culture of the New Testament itself? Why do they honor Peter without constructing a doctrine of universal Roman jurisdiction? Why do they celebrate his role while remaining silent concerning the central claims later made for the papacy?
Ultimately, the greatest weakness of Denzinger 1500 is that it attempts to establish an immense structure of authority upon foundations that are far less secure than its defenders often assume. The New Testament clearly teaches Peter's importance. It clearly teaches apostolic authority. It clearly teaches the necessity of unity. It clearly teaches the legitimacy of church leadership. What it does not clearly teach is the existence of a perpetual Roman office possessing supreme authority over all bishops and all Christians by divine right.
The Church founded by Christ is not fundamentally a Roman institution governed by a succession of mortal rulers. It is the spiritual Body of Christ, the assembly of the redeemed, the household of God, the Temple of the Holy Spirit, and the community of those who have been called out of darkness into light. Its unity is found in Christ. Its life is found in Christ. Its authority derives from Christ. Its Head is Christ. Any doctrine that effectively places an earthly office at the center of the Church's identity risks obscuring the very truth that the apostles labored to proclaim: that Christ alone is "head over all things to the church" (Ephesians 1:22), and that all believers, whether Jew or Gentile, bond or free, are united into one body not through submission to Rome, but through the life-giving presence of the Holy Spirit.



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