When Rome Feared the Scriptures: Innocent III, the Christians of Metz, and the Control of Christ’s Flock
An investigation into three papal letters from 1199, the suppression of independent Christian teaching, and the question of who has authority over the household of Christ.
In 1199, ordinary Christians in the French city of Metz were doing something that greatly concerned the Roman ecclesiastical authorities. They had obtained portions of Scripture translated into their own language. Men and women were gathering together, reading the Gospels, studying the writings of the apostles and discussing biblical teachings without relying entirely upon their priests to explain them.
Some reportedly challenged their clergy. Others believed they understood Scripture better than the men appointed to instruct them. When priests attempted to correct their activities, certain members of the group apparently defended themselves by appealing to Scripture.
What followed was a remarkable confrontation between ordinary Christians and the authority of medieval Rome.
The controversy survives in three letters issued by Pope Innocent III in 1199. These documents allow us to examine what the papacy considered objectionable, how it sought to regulate religious activity and what happened when the people reportedly refused to obey.
More importantly, they raise a question that reaches to the very foundation of Christianity.
If Christ is the head of His Church, and believers are His spiritual household, by what authority could an earthly religious government determine who was permitted to read, explain and share His word?
The evidence is especially significant because Innocent initially acknowledged that the alleged heresy of the Christians of Metz had not been established. Nevertheless, he demanded that their activities be corrected and their relationship with the authority of Rome investigated.
By December 1199, the dispute had become an explicit confrontation over obedience. According to the bishop's reports, certain believers declared that they should obey God alone, refusing to submit to ecclesiastical commands that would prevent their gatherings and preaching.
This is not a story that needs embellishment. The papal documents themselves reveal the tension between religious instruction, institutional jurisdiction and individual obedience to God.
The Christians of Metz and the three letters of Innocent III
Pope Innocent III, born Lotario dei Conti di Segni around 1160–1161, came from an aristocratic Italian family with considerable connections to Rome. His father, Trasmundo, belonged to the landowning nobility of Segni, while his mother, Clarissa, came from the influential Roman Scotti family. Through his mother's family connections, Lotario obtained a position as a canon of St Peter's in Rome, with a lucrative ecclesiastical income that helped finance his studies in Paris and Bologna.
Elected pope on 8 January 1198, he ruled until 1216. During his pontificate, the Conti family rose to become one of Rome's most influential noble dynasties. Innocent appointed four of his relatives as cardinals, further illustrating how aristocratic family connections and ecclesiastical advancement were intertwined.
Innocent III became one of the most powerful medieval popes, advancing extensive claims of papal jurisdiction and the authority associated with the title “Vicar of Christ” — a man claiming to represent Christ's government over His Church.
And here lies the extraordinary irony.
Where did Christ ever appoint a wealthy aristocrat as His earthly vicar, granting him jurisdiction over His spiritual household and authority to command the consciences of His followers?
Christ's own instructions were remarkably different. In Matthew 20:25–26, He contrasted the rulers of the Gentiles, who exercised dominion, with His disciples, declaring:
But it shall not be so among you:
And Peter himself instructed the elders in 1 Peter 5:3:
Neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock.
Yet here was a man born into the Italian nobility, elevated through the structures of an increasingly powerful ecclesiastical institution, claiming authority to regulate whether ordinary Christians could preach and explain the very Scriptures that testified of Christ.
The issue is not that a wealthy man cannot follow Christ. It is that wealth, noble ancestry, ecclesiastical office and centuries of accumulated "tradition" do not constitute a command from Christ granting any man the right to lord it over His people.
Innocent was not simply a religious teacher. He exercised jurisdiction through an extensive ecclesiastical administration, intervened in disputes between European rulers and asserted substantial authority over the Christian societies of western Europe.
Yet in 1199, a matter involving ordinary people reading Scripture had reached his attention.
The bishop of Metz, Bertram, whose episcopate lasted from approximately 1180 to 1212, had reported that numerous laymen and women were using French translations of biblical and religious writings.
The first papal letter, Cum ex injuncto, was addressed to the faithful living in Metz and its diocese. It belongs to the correspondence associated with July 1199, although its surviving closing formula does not independently provide a day and month.
The writings concerned included the Gospels, the epistles of Paul, the Psalter, commentaries on Job and other books. The reference to Job concerns commentaries and should not automatically be treated as proof that the group possessed a complete translation of that biblical book.
According to the bishop, these people were not content merely to possess the writings. They discussed them privately, taught one another and, in some cases, resisted their parish priests.
Innocent described their conduct in language that already revealed his suspicions.
He accused them of taking upon themselves the office of preaching, conducting secret assemblies, mocking the simplicity of priests and separating themselves from the established congregation.
These accusations must be read carefully.
They came to the Pope through the bishop, whose authority was being challenged. We do not possess an equivalent surviving account from the laypeople explaining their beliefs, their gatherings or their objections to the clergy.
Nevertheless, one fact is unmistakable: their independent religious activity had become a matter requiring papal intervention.
Innocent's response contains an admission that is often overlooked in simplified accounts of medieval Bible restrictions.
He recognised that the desire to understand Scripture was commendable.
The Latin reads:
Licet autem desiderium intelligendi divinas Scripturas ... reprehendendum non sit, sed potius commendandum.
In other words, the desire to understand divine Scripture was not to be condemned but commended.
This distinction is important.
Innocent did not issue a general prohibition against all laypeople possessing or reading Scripture in their own language.
But his approval came with a substantial qualification.
The difficulty, in his judgment, was what these Christians were doing with their knowledge.
They were interpreting Scripture, explaining it to one another, questioning priests and assuming religious responsibilities without recognised ecclesiastical authorisation.
The distinction was therefore not simply between reading Scripture and being forbidden to read it. It was between knowing Scripture and possessing permission to teach what one believed it meant.
That is where the question of institutional control becomes unavoidable.
Innocent attempted to justify these restrictions through a series of biblical arguments.
He appealed to the difficulty of sacred writings, the different ministries within the Church, the duty to honour priests and the danger of people assuming the role of teachers without being sent.
His reasoning included an extraordinary use of the events at Mount Sinai.
In Exodus 19, the Israelites were forbidden to approach the mountain when God descended upon it. Even an animal crossing the appointed boundary was to be put to death.
Innocent applied this account to the interpretation of Scripture.
He wrote:
Ne videlicet simplex aliquis et indoctus praesumat ad sublimitatem Scripturae sacrae pertingere.
The argument was that an uneducated person should not presume to approach the heights of sacred Scripture.
But compare the original account with the conclusion being drawn from it.
Exodus 19 concerns the terrifying appearance of God at Sinai and the specific boundaries established around the mountain.
It does not explicitly establish a permanent distinction between Christians authorised to investigate Scripture and Christians who must depend upon a clerical class for its meaning.
That distinction is being supplied by the papal interpretation.
Innocent also appealed to Romans 10:15, which asks how people can preach unless they are sent, and Ephesians 4:11, which recognises different ministries within the body of Christ.
These passages certainly deserve consideration. The New Testament does not teach that every believer automatically possesses the same ministry or that every person claiming divine inspiration must be believed.
But the existence of apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors and teachers does not itself establish the later claim that a centralised Roman hierarchy must authorise all legitimate preaching.
Innocent nevertheless made precisely this question of authorisation central to his argument.
He even addressed the possibility that someone might claim to have been sent directly by God rather than by a human authority.
His answer was that such an individual must demonstrate a miraculous sign or special scriptural testimony.
The relevant issue is not whether false teachers should be challenged. Scripture repeatedly warns against them.
The question is whether the authority to recognise a Christian teacher had become so completely identified with the established hierarchy that religious activity outside its permission could be treated as inherently suspicious.
Innocent's argument concerning priests is equally revealing.
He invoked Exodus 22:28 and interpreted its reference to gods as applying to priests because of the dignity of their office.
He then argued that even an unworthy priest should be corrected or removed by the bishop rather than openly challenged by ordinary parishioners.
Here, the hierarchy was defending not merely doctrinal accuracy but the status and jurisdiction of its ministers.
Compare that with Galatians 2:11, where Paul records his confrontation with Peter:
But when Peter was come to Antioch, I withstood him to the face, because he was to be blamed.
Paul did not present Peter's apostolic standing as placing him beyond correction.
Nor does 1 Timothy 5:19–20 treat elders as unaccountable. It establishes safeguards against unsupported accusations while also requiring appropriate public rebuke of those who sin.
The New Testament recognises religious leadership, but it also subjects that leadership to truth and correction.
Innocent's argument, by contrast, placed great emphasis upon the proper channels of ecclesiastical discipline.
The practical effect was to reserve judgment over priests to their "recognised" superiors.
The people who were supposed to be instructed by the clergy were not granted an equivalent freedom to challenge them publicly.
This is not evidence that every priest was corrupt or that the believers of Metz were necessarily correct in their criticisms.
It is evidence of how ecclesiastical jurisdiction operated.
And the Pope's first letter did not end with a polite theological disagreement.
He warned that if the people refused his paternal correction, the Church would apply greater severity.
The Latin refers to ecclesiasticam severitatem — ecclesiastical severity.
The threat was already present in July.
Thus, before the December escalation, Rome had established that continued resistance to its instructions could lead to disciplinary consequences.
The central question was becoming clear.
Who was to determine the permissible boundaries of Christian teaching: the words of Christ and His apostles, or the jurisdiction of the institution claiming to interpret those words?
Heresy had not been established — but obedience was already being demanded
The second letter makes the issue sharper still.
On 12 July 1199, Innocent addressed Sicut Ecclesiarum praelatis to the bishop and cathedral chapter of Metz.
This letter is particularly important because the Pope admitted that the information supplied to him was insufficient to establish whether the accused Christians actually held erroneous religious beliefs.
The Latin states:
Cum quod vel iidem errent in fide vel a doctrina discrepent salutari ... non duxeris exprimendum.
Innocent was explaining that the bishop had not made clear whether the people erred in faith or departed from saving doctrine.
He also acknowledged that Rome lacked sufficient information about the translators and those teaching from the translated writings.
This was not a formal declaration of innocence. It meant that the accusations had not yet been adequately investigated.
Nevertheless, it is a crucial documentary distinction.
The bishop had complained about the people's gatherings, preaching, criticism of priests and resistance to correction.
But their actual doctrinal errors had not been demonstrated in the information presented.
Innocent cautioned the bishop against hasty judgment.
He used the biblical imagery of the foxes spoiling the vineyard from Song of Solomon 2:15, together with the warning about wheat and tares in Matthew 13.
His concern was that excessive severity might drive otherwise simple believers towards heresy.
That caution deserves recognition. It shows that Innocent understood the dangers of indiscriminate condemnation.
Yet the same letter ordered the bishop to correct the conduct already judged reprehensible.
The people were to be admonished concerning their preaching, gatherings and reported contempt for priests.
The absence of established heresy did not prevent Rome from asserting ecclesiastical jurisdiction over their activities.
But an even more revealing instruction followed.
Innocent ordered the bishop to investigate who had produced the translations, why they had been produced, what the readers believed and why they were teaching.
Then he added a question concerning their relationship with Rome.
Si sedem apostolicam et catholicam Ecclesiam venerentur.
In other words, the inquiry had to establish whether they revered the Apostolic See and honoured the Roman Catholic Church.
This was no longer merely a question about the accuracy of a translation or whether the Gospels were being explained correctly.
The bishop was specifically instructed to investigate the group's recognition of ecclesiastical authority.
From Innocent's theological perspective, doctrinal unity and obedience to the established Church were closely connected. Rejection of legitimate ecclesiastical authority could itself be treated as a serious religious problem.
But that is precisely the claim requiring examination.
Where did Christ make recognition of the Roman See a condition for rightly understanding His teaching?
Where did He command ordinary believers to submit their scriptural discussions to an authority exercising universal jurisdiction from Rome?
The New Testament recognises elders and teachers. It also commands Christians to reject false doctrine and maintain unity.
Yet none of those principles automatically demonstrates that the medieval institution's claims to jurisdiction were established by Christ Himself.
The letters from Metz expose the distinction between these two propositions.
One is that the Church requires faithful teaching and responsible spiritual oversight.
The other is that obedience to a particular ecclesiastical government is necessary for the legitimate exercise of Christian teaching.
By July 1199, the papacy was investigating not only what these people believed, but whether they acknowledged Rome's authority to govern their religious lives.
And by December, that question had become central to the confrontation.
December 1199: When the Christians reportedly declared that they would obey God alone
On 9 December 1199, Innocent issued a third letter, Ea est in fovendis.
This document was addressed to the Cistercian abbots of Cîteaux, Morimond and La Crête, who were instructed to assist in examining the suspected Christians alongside the bishop of Metz.
The text is preserved in Patrologia Latina, volume 214, columns 793–795, and can be examined in its Latin transcription here.
The letter is particularly revealing because it recounts the earlier correspondence before describing new accusations reported by Bishop Bertram.
Innocent explained that the original allegations had not immediately provoked punishment because the matter had not been properly examined.
This confirms the initial distinction between suspicion and established wrongdoing.
But the bishop had now sent another report.
According to that report, certain Christians had refused to obey the papal instructions.
Some allegedly continued meeting privately. Others continued preaching despite being forbidden to do so.
The bishop further reported that some openly rejected the authority of ecclesiastical superiors.
Then comes the most striking statement in the correspondence:
Obediendum esse dicentibus soli Deo.
They were reportedly declaring that they should obey God alone.
Consider what this means.
The bishop had complained to Rome that ordinary Christians were continuing to read and teach Scripture while refusing to accept the restrictions imposed upon them.
Their reported answer was that obedience belonged to God.
We cannot establish from the papal letter alone precisely how these people expressed their position or whether the bishop reproduced their words faithfully. It is a report made by an ecclesiastical opponent, not a surviving declaration written by the believers themselves.
Nevertheless, the statement was important enough to be included in Innocent's letter.
And it raises an unavoidable biblical comparison.
When Peter and the other apostles were confronted by religious authorities who prohibited them from teaching in the name of Jesus, they answered:
We ought to obey God rather than men.— Acts 5:29, KJV
The situations were not identical.
Acts 5 concerns the apostles' direct confrontation with the Jerusalem authorities, while the Metz controversy involved medieval Christians whose precise doctrinal beliefs remain incompletely documented.
Yet the principle of ultimate obedience is unmistakable.
The apostles acknowledged no human authority superior to God's command.
The question is therefore whether the instructions imposed upon the Christians of Metz genuinely represented obedience to Christ or extended beyond what Christ had authorised.
The December letter contains another revealing detail.
According to the bishop, some believers maintained that they would not obey their bishop, their metropolitan or even the Pope if Rome ordered the translation abolished.
Here we must preserve the exact distinction in the document.
Innocent did not state that he had already issued a universal order abolishing vernacular Scripture.
The statement concerned what these people reportedly intended to do if such an order were made.
It is a conditional reference to a possible prohibition, not proof that the Pope had already forbidden all lay Bible reading.
But its presence reveals the nature of the conflict.
The possibility of an ecclesiastical order abolishing the translation was being contemplated within a dispute concerning the right to use Scripture independently.
And some of the people were reportedly prepared to defy even the highest authorities of the medieval Church.
Innocent responded by instructing the three abbots to travel to Metz, work with the bishop, assemble knowledgeable advisers and examine those adhering to the translations.
They were to correct what could be established as reprehensible.
The Pope authorised them to proceed under apostolic authority and, where possible, without allowing an appeal to obstruct the correction.
If the people refused, the abbots were to investigate the accusations more thoroughly and report their findings to Rome.
The letter also named a priest, M. Crispinus, and an associate identified only as R.
If the charges against them were proved, the abbots were authorised to impose canonical punishment without an ordinary appeal delaying that decision.
But the letter also provided for the opposite result: if the charges were not established, the abbots were to compel the bishop to withdraw any punishment he had improperly imposed.
That detail matters. Innocent was not simply ordering indiscriminate punishment, nor does this document establish that the named individuals were convicted.
The surviving letters do not demonstrate that the Christians of Metz were executed, imprisoned or subjected to a blanket prohibition on Bible possession as a direct result of these orders.
To claim otherwise would go beyond the evidence.
What the documents establish is already serious enough.
A dispute beginning with ordinary Christians possessing translated biblical writings had developed into an investigation of their religious beliefs, their preaching, their gatherings and their willingness to submit to ecclesiastical government.
Their alleged refusal to obey Rome had itself become a matter requiring correction.
The Pope described the controversy as a matter concerning the universal Church and the Christian faith.
But was the universal Church identical to the government of Rome?
And did the refusal to obey a bishop necessarily amount to refusal to obey Christ?
Those are two very different propositions.
The most revealing development between July and December 1199 is that alleged disobedience to ecclesiastical authority became a central disciplinary concern while the investigation into the group's beliefs was still being pursued.
The evidence does not require us to prove Innocent's private intentions. His letters demonstrate the practical operation of the system.
It claimed authority over religious teaching, over the permissible conduct of gatherings and over the question of who could preach.
And it possessed disciplinary mechanisms to enforce that authority.
What did Christ actually teach about His Church?
To understand the significance of Metz, we must compare these claims with the Christianity described in the New Testament.
The first Christians were not strangers to disagreement, false teaching or the need for responsible leadership.
The apostles appointed elders, instructed teachers and warned repeatedly about those who would distort the Gospel.
But the earliest Christian communities also gathered in houses, shared instruction and examined the teaching they received.
Acts 2:46 records believers breaking bread from house to house.
Acts 5:42 declares:
And daily in the temple, and in every house, they ceased not to teach and preach Jesus Christ.
The immediate passage describes apostolic preaching. It is not proof that every individual Christian possessed an identical teaching office.
Nevertheless, it demonstrates that Christian instruction was not inherently suspect because it took place in a home.
Paul likewise refers to a congregation meeting in the house of Priscilla and Aquila.
Romans 16:5 states:
Likewise greet the church that is in their house.
No elaborate religious building was required for these believers to constitute a church.
Nor does Paul describe the congregation as the institutional possession of a distant ecclesiastical government.
Christians belonged to God and were joined together through their faith in Christ.
Acts 17:11 records the conduct of the Bereans, who received apostolic teaching and searched the Scriptures daily to determine whether what they were hearing was true.
This is particularly important.
The Bereans were not praised for accepting religious instruction without examination.
They were commended for testing it against Scripture.
Colossians 3:16 likewise declares:
Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly in all wisdom; teaching and admonishing one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in your hearts to the Lord.
Notice that Paul speaks of believers teaching and admonishing one another.
He does not describe the knowledge of Christ as something belonging exclusively to a distant religious authority.
And 1 Peter 2:9 addresses Christians as:
But ye are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a peculiar people;
The royal priesthood is not described as an exclusive hereditary or imperial caste ruling over the remaining Christians.
It is language applied to God's people.
This does not mean that every believer becomes an elder or that the Church has no need of teachers.
James 3:1 warns against casually assuming the responsibility of teaching. Titus 1:9 requires sound doctrine, and 1 John 4:1 commands believers to test the spirits.
The New Testament is concerned with truth, accountability and faithful ministry.
But it does not follow that a hierarchy may assume unrestricted authority over the consciences of Christ's followers.
Indeed, Peter himself gives a remarkable instruction to elders.
In 1 Peter 5:2–3, he urges them to care for God's flock, concluding:
Neither as being lords over God's heritage, but being ensamples to the flock.
That is an extraordinary contrast with religious power understood primarily as jurisdiction, rank and compulsory obedience.
The elder is to serve as an example.
He is not instructed to possess God's people.
Christ made the same distinction when His disciples disputed greatness among themselves.
In Luke 22:25–26, He contrasted the rulers of the Gentiles, who exercised lordship, with the conduct expected of His disciples.
Matthew 20:25–28 likewise establishes service as the pattern of Christian leadership.
And in Matthew 23:8 He declares:
But be not ye called Rabbi: for one is your Master, even Christ; and all ye are brethren.
That statement does not eliminate every recognised ministry. It does, however, establish the essential relationship between Christ and those who belong to Him.
They are brethren under one Master.
The question therefore becomes whether a religious government exercising coercive jurisdiction over those brethren reflects Christ's command to serve or the worldly pattern of dominion He expressly contrasted with discipleship.
The distinction is particularly troubling when the issue concerns access to His own words.
If the Bereans were commended for searching Scripture, why should later believers require permission from a hierarchy (italian nobility, not poor fishermen) before examining what they were taught?
If Christians were instructed to teach and admonish one another, who established that such activity must always depend upon Roman authorisation?
And if the elders themselves were forbidden to exercise lordship over God's heritage, how could their successors claim increasingly extensive jurisdiction over the whole Christian world?
These questions cannot be answered merely by insisting that the medieval hierarchy already possessed such authority.
The authority itself must be demonstrated from Christ's teaching.
From the Christians of Rome to the Roman ecclesiastical throne
To investigate that development, we must return to the earliest Christian community at Rome.
The New Testament does not portray the Christians of Rome as subjects of an imperial religious throne.
Paul wrote to believers who were part of the body of Christ. In Romans 16 he greeted numerous individuals and households, including the congregation meeting in the home of Priscilla and Aquila.
This does not prove that the Roman congregation lacked leaders, but it provides a very different picture from the elaborate ecclesiastical government that later developed.
One of the earliest Christian documents outside the New Testament, commonly known as First Clement, was sent from the Roman Church to the Christians of Corinth, probably towards the end of the first century.
Its opening identifies the sending community as the Church of God sojourning in Rome and the recipients as the Church of God sojourning in Corinth.
The letter demonstrates that the Roman Christians were already intervening in disputes affecting another Christian community.
It therefore cannot be dismissed as though early Rome exercised no influence whatsoever.
The letter also speaks of appointed ministers and continuity in Church leadership.
Yet it is not a medieval papal decree asserting ownership of the universal Church or demonstrating the full jurisdiction exercised by Innocent III more than a thousand years later.
The development of Roman authority must be studied through actual surviving evidence rather than assumed to have existed in its later form from the beginning.
By the late second century, Irenaeus of Lyon was appealing to the succession of bishops as evidence against teachings he regarded as heretical.
In Against Heresies, Book III, chapter 3, he identifies the Roman Church with the apostolic preaching of Peter and Paul and gives a succession beginning with Linus, followed by Anacletus and Clement.
But centuries later, the Pseudo-Isidorian False Decretals, assembled in the ninth century, went considerably further. A forged letter attributed to Anacletus claimed that Peter himself had ordained him as a priest. Another forged letter, supposedly written by Anacletus, made the extraordinary declaration:
Haec vero sacrosancta Romana et apostolica ecclesia non ab apostolis, sed ab ipso domino salvatore nostro primatum obtinuit.
“This most holy Roman and apostolic Church obtained its primacy not from the apostles, but from our Lord and Saviour himself.”
The forged document then invoked Matthew 16:18 and claimed that the Roman See was the head upon whose authority all churches were governed.
These were not authentic first-century letters from Anacletus, but later fabrications presented under his name. Although claims of Rome's special standing existed long before these forgeries, the documents falsely attributed elaborate assertions of Roman supremacy to an early bishop.
The irony is considerable: an institution claiming authority through apostolic succession could draw upon documents falsely presented as apostolic testimony to reinforce that very authority.
He also describes Rome as possessing a special prominence among the churches.
This is significant evidence of Rome's early standing.
But there is a textual complication in a famous passage concerning its pre-eminent authority. Irenaeus wrote in Greek, while the relevant complete wording survives in Latin translation. The precise meaning of the phrase potiorem principalitatem has been disputed.
The passage should therefore be examined in its original theological context rather than treated as if it unquestionably described the extensive medieval powers of the papacy.
Irenaeus was arguing about the preservation of apostolic teaching against rival doctrines.
Whether his language establishes the later Roman claim to universal jurisdiction is a further question.
Tertullian, writing around the turn of the third century, likewise discussed the succession of Church ministers.
In The Prescription Against Heretics, chapter 32, he appealed to apostolic continuity as evidence of authentic Christian teaching.
But he also recognised that churches established later could be considered apostolic through agreement with apostolic doctrine, even without having an apostle as their immediate founder.
That is a distinction worth remembering.
Historical succession was important to these writers, but continuity of teaching was also essential.
A list of officeholders does not, by itself, prove that every later claim made by those officeholders originated with Christ.
Several centuries later, Jerome contributed another important account.
In De Viris Illustribus, chapter 1, written towards the end of the fourth century, Jerome stated that Peter had travelled to Rome during the reign of Claudius and occupied its episcopal chair for twenty-five years, until the final year of Nero.
This became an influential element in the traditional chronology of Peter's Roman episcopate.
But Jerome was writing more than three centuries after the period he described.
His statement is evidence that this account circulated in late antiquity. It is not contemporary documentary proof that Peter exercised a continuous twenty-five-year episcopate in the later institutional sense.
Nor does the New Testament provide a corresponding account of Peter ruling the Roman Christians as a universal bishop for twenty-five years.
The historical association of Peter and Paul with Rome is early and significant. Irenaeus and other ancient writers attest to it.
What requires separate proof is the more precise chronology and the conclusion that such an episcopate conferred universal jurisdiction upon every later bishop of Rome.
When records grow thin, tradition is too often asked to do the heavy lifting that contemporary evidence cannot.
But even if Jerome's chronology were accepted in full, another question would remain.
How would Peter's ministry in Rome establish that a succession of later rulers possessed authority over every Christian congregation and the consciences of all believers?
The New Testament calls the apostles foundational witnesses of Christ.
Ephesians 2:20 describes the household of God as built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ Himself being the chief cornerstone.
A foundation is not identical to a perpetual political government.
And the existence of apostolic ministry does not automatically authorise every later institutional development undertaken in the apostles' names.
The problem is not the existence of Christian elders, bishops or teachers.
It is the transformation of spiritual oversight into claims of jurisdiction and obedience that extend far beyond what can be directly demonstrated from the teachings of Christ.
That transformation became increasingly significant as Christianity developed within the political structures of the Roman world.
Following the fourth-century imperial adoption and patronage of Christianity, bishops acquired growing public importance. Imperial legislation, ecclesiastical councils and Church administration became closely associated.
The Western Roman Empire did not simply turn into the papacy. The ancient empire, the Roman episcopate, the later Papal States and the medieval Holy Roman Empire were distinct historical institutions with different forms of government.
Nevertheless, they were linked through developments involving Roman law, religious authority, territorial administration, imperial patronage and the political position of the bishops of Rome.
These connections changed the practical exercise of religious authority.
Bishops were no longer simply leaders of congregations within a hostile or indifferent imperial society.
Over time, important ecclesiastical offices became involved in legal administration, political diplomacy and the government of Christian territories.
The coronation of Charlemagne as emperor by Pope Leo III in the year 800 was an especially important moment in the relationship between the Roman papacy and western imperial government.
This did not create a peaceful or permanent union between popes and emperors. Medieval history contains repeated conflicts between them.
But it demonstrates how closely the claims of sacred authority and political rule had become intertwined.
The development continued through the papal reform movements of the eleventh century and reached a particularly powerful expression under Innocent III.
An additional primary document demonstrates the extent of Innocent's political claims.
In his decretal Venerabilem of 1202, concerning the election of the future emperor, Innocent acknowledged the German princes' right to elect their king.
But he also asserted the Pope's right to examine the suitability of the person who would be promoted to imperial office, because the Pope performed the imperial anointing, consecration and coronation.
How remarkable. Scripture records God choosing kings and calling prophets, yet here we find princes electing rulers and a Pope deciding whether they were suitable. Apparently, divine appointment now required aristocratic elections and papal approval. And when, exactly, did Christ command a conclave to elect His supposed earthly “Vicar”?
The formal papal conclave system developed later, but the underlying question remains: where did Christ authorise men to establish such a system of religious and political power in His name? When did any pope hang upon a cross to redeem mankind from sin? When did any of his wealthy cardinals shed their blood for our salvation? Christ alone paid that price. By what authority, then, do these men presume to claim dominion over those He redeemed with His own blood?
He invoked the earlier transfer of imperial dignity to the Franks under Charlemagne as part of his historical justification.
Here was the papacy claiming a role in determining the legitimacy of a ruler who exercised worldly political power.
That is not merely the spiritual instruction of fellow believers.
It is ecclesiastical authority operating within imperial politics.
The institution dealing with the Christians of Metz was the same papal government asserting authority in disputes over emperors and kings.
This does not prove that every decision made by Innocent was insincere or motivated by a desire for wealth.
Medieval churchmen could genuinely believe that defending ecclesiastical jurisdiction was necessary to protect Christian truth.
But sincere conviction does not establish divine authority.
An institution may genuinely believe that it serves Christ while exercising powers that still require examination against His own commands.
And that brings us to the most important biblical distinction of all.
Christ is the Son over His own house — and we are that house
Hebrews 3:6 declares:
But Christ as a son over his own house; whose house are we, if we hold fast the confidence and the rejoicing of the hope firm unto the end.— Hebrews 3:6, KJV
Read those words carefully.
Whose house are we? Christ's.
The Greek word oikos can refer to a house, dwelling, household or family, according to its context.
Here the author is contrasting Moses, who was faithful as a servant in God's house, with Christ, who is faithful as the Son over His house.
The passage identifies the house with the people belonging to God.
It is not simply describing an earthly building.
Nor is it granting ownership of God's household to a succession of religious rulers.
The faithful themselves constitute the house.
Peter uses remarkably similar language in 1 Peter 2:5:
Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifices, acceptable to God by Jesus Christ.
Believers are the living stones.
The house is spiritual.
The priesthood is holy.
And the sacrifices described are offered to God through Jesus Christ.
Where, in this description, is an imperial religious throne appointed to possess that household?
Paul develops the same understanding in Ephesians 2:19–22.
He describes Christians as fellow citizens with the saints and members of God's household, built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets.
Christ Himself is the chief cornerstone.
The building grows into a holy temple in the Lord, and believers are built together as a habitation of God through the Spirit.
The emphasis is unmistakable.
God's dwelling is not identified exclusively with a monument, a cathedral, a city or an ecclesiastical palace.
It is His people, joined together in Christ.
This agrees with Stephen's declaration in Acts 7:48:
Howbeit the most High dwelleth not in temples made with hands; as saith the prophet,
And with Paul's statement in 1 Corinthians 12:27:
Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular.
The Church is not merely compared with a body possessing an external earthly owner.
It is identified as the body of Christ.
Colossians 1:18 declares:
And he is the head of the body, the church:
Ephesians 5:23 likewise identifies Christ as the head of the Church and the saviour of the body.
Even 1 Timothy 3:15, frequently cited in support of ecclesiastical authority, describes the Church as the house of God and the pillar and ground of the truth.
The existence of order within that household is not disputed.
What Scripture does not establish merely by recognising a household is that its ministers become its owners.
A servant entrusted with caring for a family does not thereby become the father of that family.
A steward appointed to manage a household does not become the owner of the house.
An elder appointed to care for Christ's flock does not become its head in Christ's place.
That distinction is central to the issue of Roman supremacy.
The papacy claims authority as a successor to the apostolic ministry. Catholic theology does not ordinarily teach that the Pope replaces Christ as the ultimate head of the Church; it presents papal authority as subordinate to Christ and exercised as His representative.
But that claim must still be tested.
Does a ministry exercised in Christ's name possess the right to require obedience in matters Christ has not demonstrably placed under its jurisdiction?
The distinction between ministry and ownership cannot simply be erased by describing institutional demands as obedience to the Church.
The New Testament does not deny the need for responsible leadership.
But it repeatedly identifies Christ as the foundation, the head and the one through whom believers approach God.
In 1 Corinthians 3:11, Paul declares:
For other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ.
And 1 Timothy 2:5 states:
For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus;
No subsequent institution can claim a divine authority simply because it has inherited an ancient office, accumulated legal jurisdiction or secured the cooperation of political rulers.
Its teaching and actions must be examined in light of the foundation upon which Christ's Church is built.
This distinction also bears directly upon the question of Christian unity.
In John 17:20–23, Christ prayed that those who believed through the apostles' word might be one.
Ephesians 4:3 speaks of keeping the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.
Such passages cannot be reduced to a demand that every believer submit unquestioningly to the jurisdiction of one ecclesiastical government.
Spiritual unity requires truth, faith and fellowship in Christ.
Administrative unity may serve that purpose, but it is not automatically identical to it.
A religious institution can possess elaborate structures, legal courts, ranks, decrees and mechanisms of discipline while its conduct still requires correction against Scripture.
In the same way, disagreement with a particular institution does not automatically prove disagreement with Christ.
The Christians of Metz may have been mistaken about some matters. The surviving documents do not provide enough independent evidence to determine every belief they held.
But their reported appeal to obedience to God raises a question that cannot be settled merely by invoking papal rank.
Does obedience to Christ always mean obedience to those claiming to act as His representatives?
Or must the representatives themselves be tested against His word?
The New Testament provides abundant warnings about false teaching, including false prophets and false apostles.
Therefore claims of divine authority are not beyond examination merely because they are made in the name of Christ.
This becomes even more significant when we consider the work of the Holy Spirit.
In John 3, Jesus speaks with Nicodemus about the necessity of being born again.
He declares:
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, KJV
The immediate context concerns spiritual birth, not permission to establish independent congregations or preach without accountability.
If it is God who chooses whom He will, by what authority must those He calls prove their calling to men who have appointed themselves guardians of His Church? When did Christ grant an earthly hierarchy the power to determine whom the Holy Spirit may choose, teach or send? Surely it is the authority of these men that must be demonstrated from Scripture, not God's right to call His own servants.
Nevertheless, Christ describes spiritual life as originating in the sovereign activity of God.
It does not originate in a human institution.
In John 14:26, Christ tells His disciples:
But the Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost, whom the Father will send in my name, he shall teach you all things, and bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have said unto you.
The original promise was addressed to His disciples and bears directly upon their remembrance of His teaching.
John 16:13 likewise speaks of the Spirit of truth guiding into truth, while 1 Corinthians 12:11 explains that the Spirit distributes gifts according to His own will.
And 1 John 2:27 speaks of the anointing received by believers, while warning them in the surrounding passage about those who would deceive them.
These passages do not make every individual interpretation correct.
But they do establish that spiritual life and divine gifts originate with God, not with an ecclesiastical office.
Human leaders may examine a claimed teaching against Scripture.
What they cannot legitimately assume is that the Holy Spirit belongs to their institution or operates only through their permission.
And this is where the distinction between Christ's spiritual kingdom and the machinery of a worldly religious government becomes particularly important.
Standing before Pontius Pilate, Christ declared:
My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.— John 18:36, KJV
He did not say that His kingdom had no authority.
He declared that its origin was not of this world.
Nor did He instruct His disciples to establish His dominion through the same methods employed by earthly rulers.
Yet over the following centuries, Christian ecclesiastical government became entangled with imperial authority, territorial administration, legal jurisdiction and the power to compel obedience.
By the time Innocent III intervened at Metz, the dispute over who could explain Scripture was being decided within an institutional framework that possessed legal procedures, disciplinary authority and the backing of an elaborate hierarchy.
It was a long way from a community of Christians gathered in a house to study the teaching of the apostles.
The historical development is real.
The question is whether every claim arising from that development possesses the authority of Christ.
Scripture, religious power and the warnings of Revelation
The prophetic books of Revelation introduce another dimension to the question.
Revelation 13 describes a beast exercising authority and receiving worship. Revelation 17 presents a woman associated with a beast, kings and political dominion.
Christians have understood these passages in different ways.
Some interpret them chiefly in relation to ancient imperial Rome. Others understand them as describing later religious-political systems or future events.
A historicist interpretation has often associated the imagery of Revelation with the growth of ecclesiastical and imperial power.
The combination of religious authority, earthly kingship and compulsory obedience certainly invites comparison with the forms of domination described in these chapters.
But the historical letters of Innocent III do not independently prove that the papacy or Holy Roman Empire is the beast of Revelation.
That is a theological interpretation requiring its own scriptural argument.
The distinction matters because the strongest historical criticism of ecclesiastical power does not depend upon applying a prophetic label before examining the evidence.
We can establish that the medieval papacy exercised jurisdiction over religious teaching.
We can establish that it intervened in political disputes involving kings and emperors.
We can establish that its authority was reinforced through legislation, episcopal administration and disciplinary procedures.
And we can establish that ordinary Christians who questioned that jurisdiction could become subjects of ecclesiastical investigation.
Those facts deserve examination in their own right.
The question raised by Revelation is whether any religious-political system, however ancient its claims, can become an instrument of domination rather than an expression of obedience to God.
The answer must be argued from Scripture rather than assumed from historical association.
But the warning against confusing worldly power with divine authority remains relevant.
An earthly institution's ability to compel obedience does not prove that God has authorised every command it issues.
Nor does the preservation of religious unity automatically establish that the unity being preserved is the unity Christ prayed for.
From suspicion in 1199 to restrictions on possessing Scripture
The Metz controversy did not immediately produce a universal prohibition against vernacular Scripture.
That is worth emphasising because exaggerated claims can obscure the more important evidence.
Innocent acknowledged that understanding Scripture was commendable, while opposing unauthorised teaching and the conduct reported by Bishop Bertram.
But the controversy belongs to a wider history in which restrictions upon access to biblical writings eventually became explicit in particular regions.
An important later example is the Council of Toulouse in 1229, held in southern France in the context of efforts to suppress heresy.
Canon 14 prohibited laypeople from possessing books of the Old and New Testaments, with specified exceptions for devotional material, while imposing particularly strict restrictions on vernacular versions.
The Latin prohibition begins:
Prohibemus etiam ne libros Veteris et Novi Testamenti laicis permittatur habere.
This was a regional ecclesiastical council, not a universal declaration that every Catholic everywhere was forbidden to possess every biblical text.
Medieval practices varied considerably. Vernacular translations continued to circulate, and there was no single uninterrupted prohibition applying identically across the whole of Europe.
Nevertheless, the Toulouse decree documents a real restriction upon lay possession of Scripture.
The context was the suppression of movements whose teachings the authorities considered dangerous. This included the Cathar controversy, whose doctrines differed in significant respects from historic Christian teaching.
That background explains why ecclesiastical authorities feared the spread of certain religious writings and interpretations.
But explanation is not justification.
The existence of heresy does not automatically demonstrate that restricting ordinary believers' access to Scripture is a command of Christ.
Nor does the authority to oppose false teaching establish an unrestricted right to prevent Christians from reading biblical texts for themselves.
The development from Metz to Toulouse illustrates a larger problem.
Once an institution claims authority to decide who may teach Scripture, the question naturally extends to who may possess it, translate it, distribute it and interpret it.
Not every medieval Church authority answered those questions in the same way.
But the power to regulate them had become an established part of ecclesiastical government.
And that brings us back to Innocent III's own words.
He had commended the desire to understand Scripture.
He had admitted that the accused Christians' doctrinal errors had not been established in the information initially presented to him.
Yet he still asserted jurisdiction over their preaching and gatherings.
He ordered their relationship to the Apostolic See to be investigated.
And when further resistance was reported, he authorised renewed examination and conditional disciplinary measures.
The progression reveals how closely the preservation of religious unity had become tied to submission to ecclesiastical authority.
This does not prove that Innocent secretly intended to prevent Christianity from returning to its apostolic character.
We have no surviving declaration of such an intention, and claiming to know his private motives would weaken the historical argument.
But we do not need to establish a secret intention to examine the consequences of his actions.
The papacy was exercising authority over Christians who were reading Scripture, teaching one another and questioning whether ecclesiastical commands were consistent with obedience to God.
That much is documented.
And it raises a fundamental question concerning the identity of the Church itself.
If Christians belong to Christ, does a religious institution possess the right to command their consciences?
If the Church is Christ's body, can an earthly government determine the boundaries of its spiritual life merely by asserting its jurisdiction?
And if Scripture is the testimony of Christ and His apostles, who possesses the authority to prevent His followers from examining it?
These questions are not answered by the antiquity of an office, the magnificence of a cathedral, the possession of political influence or the repetition of claims about apostolic succession.
They must be answered from the teaching of Christ Himself.
Whose Church is it?
The three letters from 1199 reveal a conflict that remains relevant long after the events in Metz.
Ordinary men and women had obtained Scripture in a language they could understand.
They were studying it, discussing it and challenging their religious teachers.
Their conduct attracted the attention of the bishop, who referred the matter to Rome.
Pope Innocent III initially acknowledged that the information supplied did not establish whether they actually held erroneous doctrine.
Nevertheless, he considered their unapproved preaching, gatherings and reported resistance to priests sufficiently objectionable to require correction.
He instructed the bishop to examine not only their beliefs but also their recognition of the Roman See.
When further resistance was reported, the Pope authorised additional investigation and conditional canonical discipline.
These events do not establish that every accused believer was doctrinally correct.
They do not demonstrate that all medieval clergy acted dishonestly.
Nor do they prove that Innocent III issued a universal prohibition against lay Bible reading.
But they do establish something of profound importance.
By 1199, Rome claimed the authority to regulate the teaching and religious gatherings of ordinary Christians, and obedience to that ecclesiastical authority had become a central issue in determining their acceptable conduct.
Yet Christ's own description of His Church points us towards a very different foundation.
Hebrews 3:6 declares that Christ is the Son over His own house — and that believers are that house.
Peter describes them as living stones built into a spiritual house.
Paul identifies them as members of the body of Christ.
He declares that Christ is its head and that no other foundation can be laid.
And when the apostles were forbidden to teach in Christ's name, they answered that obedience to God must come before obedience to men.
The question is therefore not whether Christians require teaching, correction or fellowship.
Of course they do.
The question is whether those entrusted with spiritual oversight may transform that responsibility into claims of ownership and compulsory jurisdiction over the household belonging to Christ.
No ancient episcopal list, imperial coronation, ecclesiastical decree or appeal to tradition can answer that question by itself.
The authority claimed must be shown to originate with Christ.
For Christ did not describe His followers as the property of a religious empire.
He called them brethren.
He instructed their elders to serve rather than dominate.
He described His kingdom as one whose origin was not of this world.
And He spoke of the Spirit giving life according to God's will.
In John 3:8, He 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.
And in John 18:36:
My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.
These are not descriptions of a kingdom founded upon political dominion.
Nor do they establish that the life of God's people is the possession of an earthly institution.
The House belongs to the Son.
The body belongs to its Head.
The flock belongs to its Shepherd.
And the Scriptures testify of Christ.
If Christ is the Son over His own house, and we are that house, by what authority could the heirs of a worldly empire claim possession of His family, appoint themselves rulers over His spiritual body and demand the obedience that belongs to its true Head?
And if Christ is the head of His Church, His kingdom is not of this world, and the Spirit bloweth where it listeth, what authority does any earthly empire possess to decide which of His followers may hear, understand and share His word?
Primary historical sources and further reading
The principal evidence for the events at Metz comes from the following surviving papal correspondence:
Pope Innocent III, Cum ex injuncto (1199). Addressed to the Christians of Metz and its diocese. The letter discusses the reported vernacular translations, private gatherings, lay preaching, scriptural interpretation and ecclesiastical correction. English translation | Latin text.
Pope Innocent III, Sicut Ecclesiarum praelatis (12 July 1199). Addressed to the bishop and cathedral chapter of Metz. It acknowledges the uncertainty surrounding the group's actual religious errors and orders further investigation, including whether they recognise the Apostolic See. English translation | Latin text.
Pope Innocent III, Ea est in fovendis (9 December 1199). Addressed to the abbots of Cîteaux, Morimond and La Crête. Records further accusations concerning resistance to ecclesiastical orders and authorises investigation and conditional canonical punishment. Patrologia Latina, vol. 214, cols. 793–795. English translation | Latin text.
Clement of Rome, First Epistle to the Corinthians, late first century. An important early witness to relations between the Christian communities of Rome and Corinth. Read the letter.
Irenaeus of Lyon, Against Heresies, III.3, late second century. Discusses apostolic teaching, episcopal succession and the importance of the Roman Church. Read the passage.
Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics, chapters 32 and 36, approximately AD 200. Explains the relationship between apostolic succession, authentic Christian teaching and the churches associated with the apostles. Read the work.
Jerome, De Viris Illustribus, chapter 1, approximately AD 392–393. Contains the later account of Peter's twenty-five-year Roman episcopate. Read Jerome's account.
Pope Innocent III, Venerabilem (1202). A decretal concerning the election of the ruler who would be promoted to emperor and the papacy's claimed role in examining his suitability. Read the Latin.
For modern historical discussion, see Leonard E. Boyle, Innocent III and Vernacular Versions of Scripture, and D. L. d'Avray, Vernacular Bible Reading (9 December 1199).
All biblical quotations are from the King James Version. Quotations in Latin are distinguished from English translations; the linked Wikisource transcriptions are accessible versions of the source texts, not independently verified modern critical editions. Historical claims, accusations reported by bishops and theological interpretations have been distinguished throughout.
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