Part III, Chapter XLII, 7

Since, then, in every Christian Commonwealth the civil sovereign is the supreme pastor, entrusted with the whole flock of his subjects, and since all other pastors are appointed by his authority and empowered to teach and perform every other pastoral duty, it follows that all other pastors derive from him their right to teach, preach, and perform the other functions of that office. They are simply his ministers, just as town magistrates, judges in courts, and army commanders are all ministers of the one who is magistrate of the whole Commonwealth, judge of all causes, and commander of the entire military force: always the civil sovereign. The reason is not that the teachers are his subjects, but that the learners are. Suppose, then, that a Christian king entrusts another king with authority to ordain pastors in his dominions, as several Christian kings allow the pope to do. By this he does not establish a pastor over himself or a sovereign pastor over his people. That would strip him of civil power, which depends on people's opinions of their duty to him and their fear of punishment in another world; his power would then depend on the competence and loyalty of teachers, who are as liable as anyone to ambition and ignorance. Where a foreigner has authority to appoint teachers, therefore, that authority is given him by the sovereign whose dominions they teach in. Christian teachers are our schoolmasters in Christianity, but kings are heads of households: they may accept schoolmasters for their subjects on a foreigner's recommendation, not at his command—especially when poor instruction would bring a great and obvious profit to the one recommending them. Nor need kings keep those teachers longer than the public good requires, for they remain responsible for the public good as long as they retain any other essential right of sovereignty.

If, therefore, someone asked a pastor carrying out his office, as the chief priests and elders of the people asked our Savior (Mat. 21.23.), “By what authority do you do these things, and who gave you this authority?” his only rightful answer would be that he acts by the authority of the Commonwealth, granted him by the king or assembly representing it. All pastors except the supreme pastor perform their duties by the right, that is, the authority, of the civil sovereign: jure civili. But a king, and every other sovereign, performs the office of supreme pastor by immediate authority from God—that is, in God's right, or jure divino. Kings alone, therefore, may include in their titles, as a sign of submission to God alone, Dei Gratia Rex, etc. Bishops ought to begin their mandates, “By the favor of His Majesty the King, Bishop of such a diocese,” or, as civil ministers, “In His Majesty's name.” For when they say Divina Providentia, which is Dei Gratia in disguise, they deny having received their authority from the civil state and slyly slip the collar of civil subjection, against the unity and defense of the Commonwealth.

But if every Christian sovereign is the supreme pastor of his own subjects, it seems he has authority not only to preach, which perhaps no one will deny, but also to baptize, administer the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and consecrate both temples and pastors to God's service. Most people deny this, partly because sovereigns do not ordinarily do these things, and partly because administering sacraments and consecrating persons and places to sacred uses requires the laying on of hands by men ordained to the same ministry through successive impositions of hands from the time of the apostles. To show, then, that Christian kings have power to baptize and consecrate, I must explain both why they do not ordinarily do so and how, without the customary ceremony of laying on hands, they become capable of doing so whenever they wish.

There is no doubt that a king skilled in the sciences could, by virtue of the same office that gives him authority to authorize university lecturers, deliver lectures on those sciences himself. Yet because the whole business of the Commonwealth takes all his time, it would be inappropriate for him to attend to that particular task in person. A king may also, if he pleases, sit in judgment to hear and decide every kind of case, just as he may authorize others to do so in his name. But the burden of command and government obliges him to stay constantly at the helm and delegate ministerial offices to those under him. In the same way our Savior, who certainly had power to baptize, baptized no one himself, but sent his apostles and disciples to baptize (John 4.2.). So too St. Paul, because he had to preach in many distant places, baptized few: of all the Corinthians he baptized only Crispus, Cajus, and Stephanus (1 Cor.1.14,16.). His reason was that his principal charge was to preach (1 Cor. 1.17.). It is thus clear that a greater charge, such as governing the Church, excuses one from a lesser task. This plainly explains why Christian kings do not ordinarily baptize, and why few people today are baptized by bishops, and fewer still by the pope.

As for whether the laying on of hands is necessary to authorize a king to baptize and consecrate, we may consider the matter as follows.

The laying on of hands was an ancient public ceremony among the Jews, used to identify and make certain the person or other thing intended in someone's prayer, blessing, sacrifice, consecration, condemnation, or other declaration. Thus when Jacob blessed Joseph's children (Gen. 48.14.), he “laid his right hand on Ephraim, the younger, and his left hand on Manasseh, the firstborn.” He did this deliberately, though Joseph had presented them in a way that forced Jacob to cross his arms, in order to indicate to whom he intended the greater blessing. Likewise, at the sacrifice of a burnt offering Aaron is commanded (Exod. 29.10.) “to lay his hands on the bull's head,” and (verse 15.) “to lay his hand on the ram's head.” The same is said again in Levit. 1.4. & 8.14. Likewise, when Moses appointed Joshua captain of the Israelites, consecrating him to God's service, he (Numb. 27.23.) “laid his hands on him and gave him his charge,” identifying beyond doubt the man whom they were to obey in war. For the consecration of the Levites (Numb. 8.10.), God commanded that “the children of Israel should put their hands upon the Levites.” And when the man who had blasphemed the Lord was condemned (Levit. 24.14.), God commanded that “all who heard him should lay their hands on his head, and the whole congregation should stone him.” Why were only those who had heard him to lay hands on him, rather than a priest, Levite, or other minister of justice? Because no one else could point out to the congregation's eyes precisely who had blasphemed and ought to die. To indicate a person or thing by hand to the eye leaves less room for error than indicating it by name to the ear.

This ceremony was observed so carefully that, even when blessing the entire congregation at once, which cannot be done by laying on hands, “Aaron (Levit. 9.22.) raised his hand toward the people as he blessed them.” We also read of a similar ceremony for consecrating temples among the heathen: the priest laid his hands on a post of the temple while uttering the words of consecration. So natural is it, in matters of God's public service, to indicate a particular thing by hand for the assurance of the eyes rather than by words for the information of the ear.

The ceremony was therefore not new in our Savior's time. Jairus (Mark 5.23.), whose daughter was sick, begged our Savior not merely to heal her but “to lay his hands on her, so that she might be healed.” And (Matth. 19.13.) “they brought little children to him so that he would put his hands on them and pray.”

In keeping with this ancient rite, the apostles, presbyters, and presbytery itself laid hands on those they ordained as pastors and prayed that they might receive the Holy Spirit. They did this not only once, but sometimes again when a new occasion arose. The purpose remained the same: to mark out the person precisely and solemnly, whether appointed to the pastoral charge generally or to a particular mission. Thus (Acts 6.6.) “the apostles prayed and laid their hands” on the seven deacons. This was not to give them the Holy Spirit, since they were already full of the Holy Spirit before their election, as verse 3. makes plain, but to designate them for that office. After Philip the deacon had converted certain people in Samaria, Peter and John went there (Acts 8.17.) “and laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Spirit.” This power belonged not only to apostles but to presbyters: St. Paul advises Timothy (1 Tim. 5.22.), “Do not lay hands on anyone hastily,” that is, do not appoint anyone rashly to the office of pastor. The whole presbytery laid hands on Timothy, as we read in 1 Tim. 4.14.; but we should understand that some did this on behalf of the presbytery, most likely its proestos, or spokesman, who may have been St. Paul himself. For in his 2 Epistle to Timothy, verse 6., he tells him, “Stir up the gift of God within you through the laying on of my hands.” Note in passing that by the Holy Spirit here are meant not the third Person of the Trinity but the gifts necessary to the pastoral office. We read also that hands were laid on St. Paul twice: first by Ananias at Damascus (Acts 9.17,18.) at the time of his baptism, and again (Acts 13.3.) at Antioch, when he was first sent out to preach. The purpose of this ceremony in ordaining pastors was thus to designate the person to whom the power was given. But if a person had already held the power of teaching before becoming a Christian, his baptism—that is, making him a Christian—would not have given him any new power, but only led him to preach true doctrine and so use his power rightly. Laying on hands would therefore have been unnecessary; baptism itself would have sufficed. Every sovereign before Christianity had the power to teach and appoint teachers. Christianity therefore gave sovereigns no new right, but only directed them in teaching the truth. Consequently they needed no laying on of hands, apart from what is done at baptism, to authorize them to exercise any part of the pastoral function, including baptism and consecration. In the Old Testament, though only the priest had the right to consecrate while sovereignty rested with the high priest, this was not so when sovereignty rested with the king. For we read (1 Kings 8.) that Solomon blessed the people, consecrated the Temple, and pronounced that public prayer which is now the model for consecrating all Christian churches and chapels. This shows that he had the right not only to govern ecclesiastical affairs but also to perform ecclesiastical functions.

From this union of political and ecclesiastical right in Christian sovereigns it is evident that they possess every kind of power over their subjects that can be granted to a human being for governing people's outward actions, in both civil and religious affairs. They may make whatever laws they themselves judge best for governing their subjects both as the Commonwealth and as the Church, for state and Church consist of the same people.

They may therefore, if they please, entrust the governance of their subjects in religious matters to the pope, as many Christian kings now do. But then the pope is their subordinate in this matter and exercises his charge in another's dominion jure civili, by the right of the civil sovereign, not jure divino, by God's right. He may therefore be dismissed from that office whenever the sovereign thinks it necessary for the good of his subjects. Sovereigns may also entrust religious affairs to one supreme pastor or to an assembly of pastors, granting them whatever power over the Church or over one another they judge most suitable, and whatever titles of honor they choose—bishop, archbishop, priest, or presbyter. They may make laws for their support, through tithes or otherwise, as they please, provided they act from a sincere conscience, of which God alone is judge. The civil sovereign appoints the judges and interpreters of the canonical Scriptures, for he is the one who makes them laws. He also gives force to excommunications; without laws and punishments that can humble stubborn libertines and bring them back into union with the rest of the Church, excommunications would be scorned. In short, he holds supreme power in all causes, ecclesiastical and civil alike, insofar as they concern actions and words, for only these can be known and made grounds for accusation. Of what cannot be accused, there is no judge but God, who knows the heart. These rights belong to all sovereigns, whether monarchs or assemblies: those who represent a Christian people represent the Church, for a Church and a Commonwealth of Christian people are the same thing.

Although what I have said here and elsewhere in this book seems clear enough to establish the supreme ecclesiastical power of Christian sovereigns, the pope of Rome's claim to that power universally has been defended chiefly—and, I think, as forcefully as possible—by Cardinal Bellarmine in his controversy De Summo Pontifice. I have therefore thought it necessary to examine, as briefly as I can, the grounds and strength of his argument.

In every Christian Common-wealth, then, the civil sovereign is the supreme pastor, responsible for his whole flock of subjects. All other pastors are appointed by his authority and get their power to teach and carry out their other pastoral duties from him. It follows that they get their right to teach, preach, and perform the rest of their office from the civil sovereign. They are his ministers, just as town magistrates, judges, and army commanders are ministers of the person who is chief magistrate of the whole Common-wealth, judge of all cases, and commander of all its armed forces: the civil sovereign. This is not because those who teach are his subjects, but because those who learn are. Suppose a Christian king gives another king the authority to appoint pastors in his lands, as several Christian kings let the Pope do. He does not thereby make that other king his own pastor or his people's sovereign pastor. That would mean giving up his civil power. That power depends on what people believe they owe him and on their fear of punishment in another world. Giving it away would make it depend on the skill and loyalty of religious teachers, who are as capable of ambition and ignorance as anyone else. So when an outsider has authority to appoint teachers, he receives it from the sovereign of the lands where they teach. Christian teachers are our schoolmasters in Christianity. But kings are heads of families. They may accept an outsider's recommendation of schoolmasters for their subjects, but they need not accept an outsider's command—especially when bad teaching would clearly bring great profit to the person recommending the teachers. Nor must kings keep such teachers longer than the public good permits. They remain responsible for that good as long as they retain any other essential right of sovereignty.

Suppose, then, that someone asks a pastor carrying out his duties what the chief priests and elders of the people asked our Savior (Matthew 21.23.): “By what authority do you do these things, and who gave you that authority?” His only proper answer is that he acts by the authority of the Common-wealth, given him by the king or assembly representing it. All pastors except the supreme pastor carry out their duties by the right, or authority, of the civil sovereign: jure civili, by civil right. But a king or any other sovereign holds the office of supreme pastor by direct authority from God: by God's right, or jure divino. This is why only kings may include Dei Gratia Rex, and so on, in their titles, as a sign that they answer only to God. Bishops should begin their orders, “By the favor of the king's majesty, bishop of such a diocese,” or, as civil ministers do, “In his majesty's name.” When they instead say Divina Providentia, which is Dei Gratia in disguise, they deny that their authority comes from the civil state. They quietly slip out of the restraints of civil subjection, against the unity and defense of the Common-wealth.

But if every Christian sovereign is the supreme pastor of his own subjects, it seems he can not only preach—something perhaps no one will deny—but also baptize, administer the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, and consecrate both places of worship and pastors to God's service. Most people deny this, partly because sovereigns do not normally do these things, and partly because administering sacraments and consecrating people and places for holy use are thought to require the laying on of hands by people ordained to the same ministry through a succession of similar ceremonies going back to the apostles. To show that Christian kings have the power to baptize and consecrate, I must therefore explain both why they do not normally exercise it and how they can exercise it if they choose, without the usual laying on of hands.

There is no doubt that a king who knew the sciences could personally teach them by the same right of office through which he authorizes others to teach them at universities. But running the whole Common-wealth takes up all his time, so it would be impractical for him to handle that particular task himself. A king can also sit in judgment if he wishes and hear and decide every kind of case, just as he can authorize others to do so in his name. But the burden of command and government keeps him at the helm and makes him delegate the work of his ministers to others under him. In the same way, our Savior, who certainly had the power to baptize, baptized no one himself. He sent his apostles and disciples to baptize (John 4.2.). St. Paul baptized few people because he had to preach in many places far apart. Among all the Corinthians he baptized only Crispus, Cajus, and Stephanus (1 Corinthians 1.14,16.). The reason was that his chief duty was to preach (1 Corinthians 1.17.). Clearly, a greater responsibility, such as governing the Church, excuses someone from a lesser one. So it is easy to see why Christian kings do not normally baptize: it is the same reason that few people today are baptized by bishops, and still fewer by the Pope.

As for whether laying on of hands is needed to authorize a king to baptize and consecrate, consider the following.

Laying on of hands was a very old public Jewish ceremony. It identified precisely the person or thing meant in someone's prayer, blessing, sacrifice, consecration, condemnation, or other speech. When Jacob blessed Joseph's children (Genesis 48.14.), he “laid his right hand on the younger Ephraim and his left hand on the firstborn Manasseh.” He did this on purpose, though Joseph had presented them so that Jacob had to cross his arms. It showed which child he meant to bless more. Likewise, when Aaron was to sacrifice a burnt offering, he was commanded (Exodus 29.10.) “to lay his hands on the bull's head” and (verse 15.) “to lay his hand on the ram's head.” The same instructions appear again in Leviticus 1.4. and 8.14. When Moses appointed Joshua commander of the Israelites, consecrating him to God's service (Numbers 27.23.), he “laid his hands on him and gave him his charge.” This showed exactly whom the people should obey in war. At the consecration of the Levites, God ordered (Numbers 8.10.) that “the children of Israel should put their hands on the Levites.” When the blasphemer was condemned, God ordered (Leviticus 24.14.) that “all who heard him should lay their hands on his head, and the whole congregation should stone him.” Why would those who heard him, rather than a priest, Levite, or other officer of justice, lay their hands on him? Because no one else could show the congregation with certainty who had blasphemed and should die. Pointing to a person or thing so that others can see it is less likely to cause a mistake than identifying it by name so they can hear it.

People followed this custom so closely that even when Aaron blessed the whole congregation at once, which could not be done by laying his hands on everyone, he still “raised his hand toward the people as he blessed them” (Leviticus 9.22.). We also read of a similar ceremony for consecrating temples among non-Jews: the priest laid his hands on a post of the temple while saying the words of consecration. In public service to God, it is natural to point to a particular thing with the hand so people can see it, rather than identify it with words for them to hear.

The ceremony was therefore not new in our Savior's time. Jairus, whose daughter was sick, asked our Savior (Mark 5.23.) not simply to heal her but “to lay his hands on her, so that she might be healed.” And “they brought him little children so that he would put his hands on them and pray” (Matthew 19.13.).

Following this old custom, the apostles, elders, and council of elders laid hands on people they appointed as pastors. They also prayed that these people would receive the Holy Ghost. They did this not just once but sometimes again when a new need arose. Their purpose was always the same: to identify, precisely and with religious ceremony, the person appointed either to a pastoral office generally or to a particular mission. Thus “the apostles prayed and laid their hands” on the seven deacons (Acts 6.6.). This was not to give them the Holy Ghost, since they were full of the Holy Ghost before their selection, as verse 3. just above shows. It was to identify them for that office. After Philip the deacon had converted people in Samaria, Peter and John went there and “laid their hands on them, and they received the Holy Ghost” (Acts 8.17.). An elder, not just an apostle, had this power. St. Paul advises Timothy (1 Timothy 5.22.), “Do not lay hands on anyone hastily,” meaning do not appoint someone rashly to a pastor's office. The whole council of elders laid hands on Timothy, as we read in 1 Timothy 4.14. This means some did it by the council's appointment, most likely their presiding officer or spokesman, perhaps St. Paul himself. In his second letter to Timothy, verse 6., Paul tells him, “Stir up the gift of God that is in you through the laying on of my hands.” Note that the Holy Ghost here does not mean the third person of the Trinity. It means the gifts needed for a pastor's office. We also read that hands were laid on St. Paul twice: first by Ananias in Damascus when he was baptized (Acts 9.17,18.), and again at Antioch when he was first sent out to preach (Acts 13.3.). Laying on of hands in appointing pastors thus served to identify the person given that power. Suppose there had already been a Christian sovereign with the power to teach. Baptizing him, or making him Christian, would not have given him any new power. It would only have led him to preach true teaching and so use his power properly. Laying on of hands would then have been unnecessary; baptism alone would have been enough. But every sovereign already had the power to teach and appoint teachers before becoming Christian. Christianity therefore gave them no new right; it only guided them in teaching the truth. They needed no laying on of hands beyond what happens in baptism to authorize them to perform any pastoral function, such as baptizing or consecrating. In the Old Testament, only the priest had the right to consecrate when the high priest held sovereignty. But this changed when the king held sovereignty. We read in 1 Kings 8. that Solomon blessed the people, consecrated the temple, and spoke the public prayer that now serves as a model for consecrating all Christian churches and chapels. He therefore had the right not only to govern the Church but also to perform its functions.

Christian sovereigns thus hold political and church authority together. Clearly, they have every kind of power over their subjects that one person can receive for governing people's outward actions, in both public affairs and religion. They can make whatever laws they judge best for their subjects, both as a Common-wealth and as a Church. The state and the Church consist of the same people.

So sovereigns may, if they wish, entrust the religious government of their subjects to the Pope, as many Christian kings now do. But in that role the Pope is subordinate to them. He acts in someone else's lands jure civili, by the civil sovereign's right, not jure divino, by God's right. The sovereign may therefore remove him from the role when the good of the subjects requires it. Sovereigns may also entrust religion to one supreme pastor or to an assembly of pastors. They may give them whatever power over the Church or over one another seems best, whatever titles of honor they choose—bishops, archbishops, priests, or elders—and whatever legal support they choose, by tithes or otherwise. They must do so with a sincere conscience, which only God can judge. The civil sovereign appoints the judges and interpreters of the canonical Scriptures, since he makes them law. He also gives force to excommunications. Without laws and punishments to humble stubborn people who reject restraints and bring them back into union with the rest of the Church, excommunication would be ignored. In short, the sovereign has supreme power in every cause, church or civil, as far as actions and words are concerned. Only these can be known and made the subject of an accusation. No one but God, who knows the heart, can judge what cannot be accused. These rights belong to every sovereign, whether a monarch or an assembly. Those who represent a Christian people also represent the Church, because a Church and a Common-wealth made up of Christian people are the same thing.

What I have said here and elsewhere in this book seems clear enough to establish Christian sovereigns' supreme power over the Church. But Cardinal Bellarmine has argued at length for the Pope of Rome's claim to hold that power everywhere, and I think he has made as strong a case as possible in his Controversy De Summo Pontifice. I therefore think it necessary to examine the grounds and strength of his argument as briefly as I can.