Debate.

Greetings to all. Today we’re going to be examining the Roman Catholic claims of Papal
Supremacy between the 4th and 6th centuries.

The modern Catholic understanding of the Pope’s primacy is officially defined in the
dogmatic document Pastor Aeternus, promulgated at the First Vatican Council.

Before we dive into the historical record, I want to outline a few key statements from Pastor
Aeternus so we’re all clear on what exactly we’re looking to find in the early centuries of the
Church.

“Wherefore we teach and declare that, by divine ordinance, the Roman Church possesses
a pre-eminence of ordinary power over every other Church, and that this jurisdictional
power of the Roman Pontiff is both episcopal and immediate. Both clergy and faithful, of
whatever rite and dignity, both singly and collectively, are bound to submit to this power by
the duty of hierarchical subordination and true obedience—and this not only in matters
concerning faith and morals, but also in those which regard the discipline and
government of the Church throughout the world.”
— Pastor Aeternus, Chapter 3, Section 2

“We likewise teach and declare that he is the supreme judge of the faithful, and that in
all cases which fall under ecclesiastical jurisdiction, recourse may be had to his
judgment. The sentence of the Apostolic See—than which there is no higher
authority—is not subject to revision by anyone, nor may anyone lawfully pass judgment
upon it.”
— Pastor Aeternus, Chapter 3, Section 8

“For this reason it has always been necessary for every Church—that is to say, the faithful
throughout the world—to be in agreement with the Roman Church, because of its more
effective leadership. In consequence of being joined, as members to a head, with that See
from which the rights of sacred communion flow to all, they will grow together into the
structure of a single body.”
— Pastor Aeternus, Chapter 2, Section 4
These three points—universal jurisdiction, supreme and irreversible judicial authority,
and the idea that all ecclesial communion flows from Rome—form the heart of the
Catholic doctrine of Papal Supremacy.

So, the objective today is straightforward: to see whether the claims laid out in Pastor
Aeternus were truly manifested, recognized, and embedded in the ecclesiology of the
early Church—specifically in the 4th to 6th centuries.

The first case we can delve into is the Donatist schism, which erupted in North Africa
following disputes over the legitimacy of clergy who had lapsed during persecution, as well
as over the Roman (Latin) influence in episcopal appointments.

The controversy centered around Caecilian of Carthage, who belonged to the Latin
faction and was appointed bishop. The opposing faction—what would become the
Donatists—refused to accept his ordination and appealed to the Bishop of Rome to settle
the matter. The Roman bishop judged in favor of Caecilian.

However, this decision didn’t resolve the dispute. Instead of accepting the papal ruling as
final, the Donatists appealed directly to the emperor, Constantine, hoping for a different
outcome. But rather than issuing his own verdict, Constantine called for a broader council
at Arles in 314 to settle the issue once and for all.

This event is highly significant. It represents one of the earliest clear examples where a
papal judgment was not seen as final, but instead subject to review and confirmation—
or reversal—by a broader episcopal body.

Even St. Augustine, who often defended Rome’s authority, seems to acknowledge this
limitation in Letter 43, where he comments on the Donatist appeal:

“They [the Donatists] chose, therefore, as it is reported, to bring their dispute with
Caecilianus before the foreign churches [in Rome]… the common outcry of all worthless
litigants, though they have been defeated by the clearest light of truth—as if it might not
have been said, and most justly said, to them: *‘Well, let us suppose that those bishops
who decided the case at Rome were not good judges; there still remained a plenary Council
of the universal Church, in which these judges themselves might be put on their defense;
so that, if they were convicted of mistake, their decisions might be reversed.’”
— St. Augustine, Letter 43
In this passage, Augustine seems to explicitly acknowledge that papal decisions could be
reversed—and that only a plenary (universal) council could render a final, irreformable
judgment.

This directly contradicts Pastor Aeternus, which teaches that the pope is “the supreme
judge of the faithful” and that “no one may lawfully pass judgment upon” his rulings.

Another important case to consider is the First Ecumenical Council—the Council of Nicaea
in 325. This council, universally recognized for its authority, issued Canon 6, which offers
valuable insight into how ecclesiastical authority was understood in the early centuries.

Canon 6 states:

“Let the ancient customs in Egypt, Libya, and Pentapolis prevail, that the Bishop of
Alexandria have authority over these, since the like is customary for the Bishop of Rome
also. Likewise, in Antioch and the other provinces, let the Churches retain their privileges.”

This understanding is reiterated and expanded in Canon 2 of the First Council of

Constantinople, which states:

“And let not bishops go beyond their dioceses for ordination or any other ecclesiastical
ministrations, unless they be invited. And the aforesaid canon concerning dioceses being
observed, it is evident that the synod of every province will administer the affairs of that
particular province as was decreed at Nicaea. But the Churches of God in heathen nations
must be governed according to the custom which has prevailed from the times of the
Fathers.”

What these canons reveal is a clear affirmation of a regional, conciliar structure of

authority. Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch are placed on parallel footing, each exercising
jurisdiction within its own territory according to ancient custom. This model closely aligns
with the Eastern Orthodox understanding of ecclesiology—where each patriarch governs
his own region, without one see exercising supreme jurisdiction over the others.

One source that Catholics often appeal to is the Canons of the Council of Sardica, which
granted appellate jurisdiction to the Bishop of Rome. This meant that when bishops or
clerics—such as St. Athanasius in this case—were deposed, they had the right to appeal
their case to Rome. In such cases, the Bishop of Rome could either send delegates to the
East to review the matter on-site, or summon Eastern bishops to the West to participate in
a retrial and come to a common resolution.

We see this model echoed even later by St. Leo the Great, who, in one of his letters
regarding the controversy around Flavian of Constantinople, writes:

“And now that this confession is being godlessly impugned by some few men, all the churches of
our parts and all the priests implore your clemency with tears, in accordance with the request
which Flavian makes in his appeal, to command the assembling together of a special Synod in
Italy, in order that all opposition may be expelled or pacified.”

This framework shows a form of jurisdiction that is appellate and conciliar, not absolute
or unilateral. The Pope acts as a court of final appeal, but still within a collaborative
ecclesiastical process—he doesn’t overturn decisions by his own authority alone, nor
impose outcomes without synodal consensus.

Here’s the problem, though: Vatican I completely redefines this concept. While Sardica
shows jurisdiction granted to Rome by the Church, Pastor Aeternus of Vatican I explicitly
denies that Rome’s primacy was granted at all. Instead, it states:

“Therefore, if anyone says that it is not by the institution of Christ the Lord Himself (that is to say,
by divine law) that blessed Peter should have perpetual successors in the primacy over the whole
Church; or that the Roman Pontiff is not the successor of blessed Peter in this primacy: let him be
anathema.”
— Pastor Aeternus, Chapter 2

In other words, Vatican I anathematizes the idea that Rome’s jurisdictional primacy came
from the Church’s own authority or councils. Yet the historical record—especially in the
Canons of Sardica—shows exactly that: Rome’s appellate role was conferred, not intrinsic.
Once again, we find that the historical evidence stands in direct contrast to the claims of
Vatican I.

The final case I’ll be discussing from the fourth century is the Meletian Schism, which
provides another clear example of Rome’s authority being disregarded—even in the
West.

During this schism, the Bishop of Rome recognized Paulinus as the rightful Bishop of
Antioch. However, the Eastern bishops rejected this judgment and instead sided with
Meletius. This alone undermines the idea that Rome’s decisions were universally binding
or accepted as final by the rest of the Church.

In an attempt to bring unity, Pope St. Damasus proposed a compromise: Paulinus and
Meletius would both serve as bishops, and when one of them died, the other would
become the sole Bishop of Antioch. However, this solution ultimately failed. As Lester L.
Field Jr. notes in his work On the Communion Between Damasus and Meletius, communion
between Rome and Meletius was broken shortly afterward.

What makes this case even more striking is that at the First Council of Constantinople in
381, Meletius—who, according to scholars like Edward Siecienski, Edward Denny, and
Henry Chadwick, was not in communion with Rome—actually presided over the
council for a time. This directly challenges the later papal claim that communion with
Rome was a necessary condition for a council’s legitimacy.

When Meletius died during the council, the Eastern bishops went on to elect Flavian of
Antioch as his successor. Rome, however, declared Flavian’s election invalid and
refused to recognize him. But this decision was not upheld across the Church. In fact, the
entire East—and even many Western bishops Later on recognized Flavian as the
legitimate Bishop of Antioch, effectively disregarding the Pope’s judgment.

The schism was not resolved until 399, when a meeting was held between the emperor
and Western bishops. The emperor explained that Flavian had already been universally
recognized, not just in the East, but even in some churches within the West, under Rome’s
jurisdiction. Seeing that the whole Christian world had accepted Flavian, the Western
bishops finally conceded and recognized him as well.

This entire episode directly contradicts the doctrine defined at Vatican I. If the Pope truly
held immediate and universal jurisdiction, as Pastor Aeternus claims, then his ruling on
Flavian should have been binding on all churches—not just in principle, but in actual
practice. Yet, the historical reality shows otherwise: Rome’s authority was resisted, ignored,
and ultimately overturned by the broader Church. Even more striking is that Flavian, who
had been rejected by Rome, was still recognized as legitimate by the Eastern bishops and
even many in the West. This demonstrates that communion with Rome was not viewed as
essential for one's Catholicity—a notion entirely at odds with the later claims of papal
supremacy and the necessity of submission to the Roman Pontiff for full membership in
the Church.
As the great Saint Jerome says: It is not the case that there is one church at Rome and
another in all the world beside. Gaul and Britain, Africa and Persia, India and the East
worship one Christ and observe one rule of truth. If you ask for authority, the world
outweighs its capital.

Now onto the 5th century.

In 424, we see another important case involving an African priest named Apiarius, who had
been excommunicated and defrocked by his local bishop. Instead of appealing to a council
within his own region, Apiarius appealed directly to the Bishop of Rome. Pope St. Celestine,
rather than consulting the African bishops or urging a synod to be convened locally,
unilaterally reinstated Apiarius and entered into communion with him. This action caused
significant backlash from the African clergy.

In a letter addressed to Pope Celestine, the African bishops rebuke his interference and assert
their own ecclesial autonomy. They write:

“We earnestly conjure you [Pope Celestine], that for the future you do not readily admit to a
hearing persons coming hence, nor choose to receive to your communion those who have been
excommunicated by us… Whosoever thinks himself wronged by any judgment may appeal to the
council of his province, or even to a general council—unless it be imagined that God can inspire a
single individual [i.e. the Pope] with justice, and refuse it to an innumerable multitude of bishops
(sacerdotum) assembled in council.”

This statement is extremely revealing. The African bishops clearly reject the notion that the
judgment of a single bishop—no matter how prominent—can override the decision of a
council. They affirm that binding decisions belong to the synodal and conciliar structure of
the Church, not to any one individual. Their warning—"do not... receive to your communion
those who have been excommunicated by us"—implies that Rome’s communion was not
universally decisive, and could even be out of step with the broader Church.

This completely undermines the claim made by Vatican I, which states:

“For this reason it has ALWAYS been necessary for every church—that is to say, the faithful
throughout the world—to be in agreement with the Roman Church because of its more effective
leadership.”
— Pastor Aeternus, Chapter 1

Clearly, it was not always seen as necessary to agree with the Roman Church. The Donatist
schism already illustrates this, and now this incident with Apiarius further demonstrates that
even bishops in the West—such as those in North Africa—did not recognize Rome as having
unilateral, binding authority. For them, truth and justice were discerned in council, not
imposed by papal decree.

In 430–431, the Nestorian controversy rocked the Church after laity in Constantinople accused their
Patriarch, Nestorius, of heresy. As unrest grew, the matter eventually reached St. Cyril of Alexandria,
who engaged in extensive theological correspondence with Nestorius. Once Cyril became convinced
that Nestorius was indeed teaching heresy, he wished to excommunicate him—but before acting alone,
he wisely sought the support of Pope St. Celestine, recognizing that unanimous action would prevent
division and ensure a smoother resolution.

Celestine, in response, convened a council in Rome in August 430, where Nestorius was condemned
and given ten days to recant or face excommunication. Around the same time, Cyril also held a synod in
Alexandria, issuing the same ultimatum. So far, this might seem to reflect a unified front—but Cyril’s
own words clarify the limited scope of Rome’s authority.

In a letter to John of Antioch, Cyril states:

“The holy council of Rome issued a decree and indeed wrote to your piety the instructions that must be
followed by those who wish to remain in communion with all the West.”

This remark is crucial. It tells us that Rome’s decree—even one on a matter as serious as
excommunication—was applicable only to the West, not the whole Church. This directly contradicts
the teaching of Vatican I, which claims that the Roman Pontiff’s judgments are binding on all the
faithful, by virtue of his universal and supreme jurisdiction.

Even more telling is Celestine’s own posture in his letter to John of Antioch, Juvenal of Jerusalem,
Rufus of Thessalonica, and Flavian of Philippi, where he writes:

“In order that this decree of ours may be executed more effectively, we have decided that this letter is to
be faithfully delivered to your love by our son Posidonius, deacon of the Church of Alexandria.”

This reveals that even Celestine himself sought reinforcement and cooperation from other bishops to
implement his decree—not unilateral enforcement, but consensual execution, reinforcing a synodal
model of governance.

This approach reflects Apostolic Canon 34, which says:

“Let the bishops of every nation know who is the first among them, and let them regard him as their
head, and do nothing of consequence without his consent; but neither let him (who is the first) do
anything without the consent of all; for so there will be unanimity, and God will be glorified through the
Lord in the Holy Spirit.”
Rather than showcasing an absolute supremacy, the episode reflects the Orthodox model—primacy
within conciliarity, not a monarchical authority where Rome alone defines and enforces dogma.
Celestine’s actions and Cyril’s commentary make it clear: unanimity, not unilateralism, was the rule.

In the mid-440s, a controversy began to stir in the monastic communities of

Constantinople after Archimandrite Eutyches began teaching that Christ was
consubstantial with the Virgin Mary, but not with the rest of humanity. To address this
heresy, a Home Synod was convened in Constantinople in 448 by Patriarch St. Flavian,
where Eutyches was condemned and deposed. Eutyches then appealed his case to
multiple sees, with Patriarch Dioscorus of Alexandria ultimately championing his cause.
Dioscorus requested an ecumenical council to settle the dispute, which led to the
infamous Second Council of Ephesus in 449—a council so disorderly it would later be
dubbed the "Robber Council."

At this council, numerous bishops were unjustly deposed, the Tome of Leo was
deliberately left unread, and even Patriarch Flavian was brutally assaulted, later dying from
his injuries. The Roman legates, witnessing the chaos and abuse of process, fled and
reported the events to Pope St. Leo. In response, Leo rejected the council entirely and
declared it null and void for the Roman See. He attempted to have it annulled universally,
but Emperor Theodosius II refused to heed his appeal, resulting in a two-year schism
between the Eastern and Western Churches.

This schism continued until Theodosius’ death in 450, after which General Marcian
married his sister and assumed the imperial throne. As emperor, Marcian restored
communion with St. Leo and persuaded Bishops Anatolius of Constantinople and
Maximus of Antioch to formally subscribe to Leo’s Tome, fulfilling Leo’s demands and
setting the stage for the Council of Chalcedon.

The Council of Chalcedon restored much back to order, but there are a few key points that
deserve closer attention. While the Tome of Leo had already been approved by a number of
bishops prior to the council, it still had to undergo scrutiny and be compared with the
letters of St. Cyril in order for its orthodoxy to be affirmed. As Fr. Richard Price notes:
“Chalcedon also upheld the Tome of Leo of Rome, but despite western claims to the
contrary it was Cyril not Leo who exerted the greatest influence in 451.”

I highlight this because Vatican I declares that the doctrinal judgments of the Roman
Pontiff are final and not subject to revision by anyone. Yet here we clearly see that the
bishops of Chalcedon did not take such a view. Rather than accepting the Tome on the
Pope's authority alone, they felt the need to examine it against the standard of previous
conciliar doctrine—especially that of Cyril—before confirming it as orthodox. This
demonstrates a very different ecclesiological mindset from what Vatican I presents.

Another important case involves the bishops who were deposed at the Council of Ephesus
II—such as Theodoret of Cyrus, Eusebius of Dorylaeum, and others. Even though Pope St.
Leo had already reinstated these bishops prior to the Council of Chalcedon, their cases
still had to be formally examined and judged at Chalcedon itself. The council did not
simply take Leo’s word as final but insisted on reviewing each case before full restoration
could occur.

This is yet another example that undermines the claim made by Vatican I—that the
judgments of the Roman Pontiff are final and not subject to review by anyone. Clearly, in
practice, the bishops of Chalcedon did not see the Pope’s authority in such absolute
terms. Instead, what we see once again is a conciliar structure at work, where decisions—
even those made by Rome—required the consensus and confirmation of the wider
episcopate.

The last case I’ll cover is that of Pope Vigilius during the 5th Ecumenical Council in the 6th
century.

The council was convened to address the heretical documents known as the Three
Chapters. Although Vigilius had originally supported a council, when summoned to
Constantinople he refused to attend and instead gave the presidency to the Bishop of
Constantinople.

During the council, the Three Chapters were condemned. However, Vigilius issued his own
document called the First Constitutum, in which he defended the Three Chapters and
declared them as orthodox and even threatened to excommunicate anyone who rejected
his decision.

Did the council submit to the Pope’s ruling? No. In the seventh session, the council issued
a decree excommunicating Vigilius by removing his name from the diptychs and
temporarily deposing him. They also condemned him for trying to settle the matter without
a joint examination with the bishops.
What followed is even more striking: Vigilius sent a letter to the Patriarch of
Constantinople, apologizing and blaming Satan for his errors. He then issued his Second
Constitutum, in which he annulled his earlier decision and formally accepted the council’s
rulings.

This case clearly shows that the Pope’s judgments were not viewed as final, that he could
err in matters of faith, and that agreement with the Roman Pontiff on all matters was not
considered necessary.