P — Pierre
Original French
En Italien Piero, ou Pietro; en Espagnol Pedro; en Latin Petrus; en Grec Petros; en Hébreu Cepha.
Pourquoi les successeurs de Pierre ont-ils eu tant de pouvoir en occident, & aucun en orient? C’est demander pourquoi les évêques de Vurtzbourg & de Saltzbourg se sont attribué les droits régaliens dans des tems d’anarchie, tandis que les évêques Grecs sont toujours restés sujets. Le tems, l’occasion, l’ambition des uns, & la faiblesse des autres, ont fait & feront tout dans ce monde.
A cette anarchie l’opinion s’est jointe, & l’opinion est la reine des hommes. Ce n’est pas qu’en effet ils ayent une opinion bien déterminée; mais des mots leur en tiennent lieu.
Il est rapporté dans l’évangile que Jesus dit à Pierre; “Je te donnerai les clefs du Royaume des cieux.” Les partisans de l’évêque de Rome soutinrent vers le onziéme siècle, que qui donne le plus, donne le moins; que les cieux entouraient la terre; & que Pierre ayant les clefs du contenant, il avait aussi les clefs du contenu. Si on entend par les cieux toutes les étoiles & toutes les planètes, il est évident, selon Tomasius, que les clefs données à Simon Barjone surnommé Pierre, étaient un passe-partout. Si on entend par les cieux les nuées, l’atmosphère, l’éther, l’espace dans lequel roulent les planètes, il n’y a guères de serruriers, selon Mursius, qui puisse faire une clef pour ces portes-là.
Les clefs en Palestine étaient une cheville de bois qu’on liait avec une courroie; Jesus dit à Barjone, “Ce que tu auras lié sur la terre, sera lié dans le ciel.” Les théologiens du Pape en ont conclu, que les Papes avaient reçu le droit de lier & de délier les peuples du serment de fidélité fait à leurs rois, & de disposer à leur gré de tous les royaumes. C’est conclure magnifiquement. Les communes dans les états généraux de France en 1302. disent dans leur requête au Roi, que “Boniface VIII. était un B***** qui croyait que Dieu liait & emprisonnait au ciel, ce que Boniface liait sur terre.”
Un fameux Luthérien d’Allemagne, (c’était je pense Mélancton) avait beaucoup de peine à digérer que Jésus eût dit à Simon Barjone, Cepha ou Cephas, “Tu ès Pierre, & sur cette pierre je bâtirai mon assemblée, mon église.” Il ne pouvait concevoir que Dieu eût employé un pareil jeu de mots, une pointe si extraordinaire, & que la puissance du Pape fût fondée sur un quolibet.
Pierre a passé pour avoir été évêque de Rome; mais on sait assez qu’en ce tems-là, & long-tems après, il n’y eut aucun évêché particulier. La société chrétienne ne prit une forme que vers la fin du second siècle.
Il se peut que Pierre eût fait le voyage de Rome; il se peut même qu’il fut mis en croix la tête en bas, quoique ce ne fût pas l’usage; mais on n’a aucune preuve de tout cela. Nous avons une lettre sous son nom, dans laquelle il dit qu’il est à Babylone; des canonistes judicieux ont prétendu que par Babylone on devait entendre Rome. Ainsi supposé qu’il eût datté de Rome, on aurait pû conclure que la lettre avait été écrite à Babylone. On a tiré longtems de pareilles conséquences, & c’est ainsi que le monde a été gouverné.
Il y avait un saint homme à qui on avait fait payer bien chérement un bénéfice à Rome, ce qui s’appelle une simonie; on lui demandait, s’il croyait que Simon Pierre eût été au païs? il répondit, Je ne vois pas que Pierre y ait été, mais je suis sûr de Simon.
Quant à la personne de Pierre, il faut avouer que Paul n’est pas le seul qui ait été scandalisé de sa conduite; on lui a souvent résisté en face, à lui & à ses successeurs. Ce Paul lui reprochait aigrement de manger des viandes défendues, c’est-à-dire, du porc, du boudin, du lièvre, des anguilles, de l’ixion, & du grison. Pierre se défendait en disant, qu’il avait vû le ciel ouvert vers la sixième heure, & une grande nape qui descendait des quatre coins du ciel, laquelle était toute remplie d’anguilles, de quadrupèdes & d’oiseaux; & que la voix d’un ange avait crié: “Tuez & mangez.” C’est apparemment cette même voix qui a crié à tant de Pontifes, “Tuez tout, & mangez la substance du peuple:” dit Voloston.
Casaubon ne pouvait approuver la manière dont Pierre traita le bon homme Anania & Saphira sa femme. De quel droit, disait Casaubon, un Juif esclave des Romains ordonnait-il, ou souffrait-il que tous ceux qui croiraient en Jesus vendissent leurs héritages & en apportassent le prix à ses piés? Si quelque anabatiste à Londres faisait apporter à ses piés tout l’argent de ses frères, ne serait-il pas arrêté comme un séducteur séditieux, comme un larron qu’on ne manquerait pas d’envoyer à Tyburn? N’est-il pas horrible de faire mourir Anania, parce qu’ayant vendu son fonds & en ayant donné l’argent à Pierre, il avait retenu pour lui & pour sa femme quelques écus pour subvenir à leurs nécessités sans le dire? A peine Anania est-il mort, que sa femme arrive. Pierre au lieu de l’avertir charitablement qu’il vient de faire mourir son mari d’apopléxie, pour avoir gardé quelques oboles, & de lui dire de bien prendre garde à elle, la fait tomber dans le piége. Il lui demande si son mari a donné tout son argent aux saints. La bonne femme répond, oui, & elle meurt sur le champ. Cela est dur.
Corringius demande, pourquoi Pierre qui tuait ainsi ceux qui lui avaient fait l’aumône, n’allait pas tuer plutôt tous les docteurs qui avaient fait mourir Jesus-Christ, & qui le firent fouetter lui-même plus d’une fois? O Pierre! vous faites mourir deux chrétiens qui vous ont fait l’aumône, & vous laissez vivre ceux qui ont crucifié votre Dieu!
Apparemment que Corringius n’était pas en païs d’inquisition, quand il faisait ces questions hardies. Erasme, à propos de Pierre, remarquait une chose fort singulière; c’est que le chef de la religion chrétienne commença son apostolat par renier Jesus-Christ; & que le premier pontife des Juifs avait commencé son ministère par faire un veau d’or, & par l’adorer.
Quoi qu’il en soit, Pierre nous est dépeint comme un pauvre qui catéchisait des pauvres. Il ressemble à ces fondateurs d’ordres, qui vivaient dans l’indigence, & dont les successeurs sont devenus grands seigneurs.
Le Pape successeur de Pierre a tantôt gagné, tantôt perdu; mais il lui reste encor environ cinquante millions d’hommes sur la terre, soumis en plusieurs points à ses loix, outre ses sujets immédiats.
Se donner un maître à trois ou quatre cent lieuës de chez soi; attendre pour penser que cet homme ait paru penser; n’oser juger en dernier ressort un procès entre quelques-uns de ses concitoyens, que par des commissaires nommés par cet étranger; n’oser se mettre en possession des champs & des vignes qu’on a obtenus de son propre roi, sans payer une somme considérable à ce maître étranger; violer les loix de son païs qui défendent d’épouser sa niéce, & l'épouser légitimement en donnant à ce maître étranger une somme encor plus considérable; n’oser cultiver son champ le jour que cet étranger veut qu’on célèbre la mémoire d’un inconnu qu’il a mis dans le ciel de son autorité privée; c’est là en partie ce que c’est que d'admettre un Pape; ce sont là les libertés de l’église gallicane.
Il y a quelques autres peuples qui portent plus loin leur soumission. Nous avons vû de nos jours un souverain demander au Pape la permission de faire juger par son tribunal royal des moines accusés de parricide, ne pouvoir obtenir cette permission, & n’oser les juger?
On sait assez qu’autrefois les droits des Papes allaient plus loin; ils étaient fort au-dessus des Dieux de l’antiquité; car ces Dieux passaient seulement pour disposer des empires, & les Papes en disposaient en effet.
Sturbinus dit qu'on peut pardonner à ceux qui doutent de la divinité & de l’infaillibilité du Pape, quand on fait réfléxion,
Que quarante schismes ont profané la chaire de Saint Pierre, & que vingt-sept l’ont ensanglantée;
Qu’Etienne VII. fils d’un prêtre, déterra le corps de Formose son prédécesseur, & fit trancher la tête à ce cadavre;
Que Sergius III. convaincu d’assassinats, eut un fils de Marozie, lequel hérita de la papauté;
Que Jean X. amant de Théodora, fut étranglé dans son lit;
Que Jean XI. fils de Sergius III. ne fut connu que par sa crapule;
Que Jean XII. fut assassiné chez sa maîtresse;
Que Benoit IX. acheta & revendit le pontificat;
Que Grégoire VII. fut l’auteur de cinq cent ans de guerres civiles soutenues par ses successeurs;
Qu’enfin parmi tant de Papes, ambitieux, sanguinaires & débauchés, il y a eu un Alexandre VI. dont le nom n’est prononcé qu’avec la même horreur que ceux des Néron & des Caligula.
C’est une preuve, dit-on, de la divinité de leur caractère, qu’elle ait subsisté avec tant de crimes; mais si les Califes avaient eu une conduite encor plus affreuse, ils auraient donc été encor plus divins. C’est ainsi que raisonne Dermius; mais les jésuites lui ont répondu.
Musean translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Musean translation of the 73 articles in the 1764 first edition, made directly from the French and reviewed against the scan-collated French text. The author’s notes, quotations and verse are retained. Historical ethnic labels, including offensive terms, are retained from the 1764 text.
In Italian Piero, or Pietro; in Spanish Pedro; in Latin Petrus; in Greek Petros; in Hebrew Cepha.
Why have Peter’s successors had so much power in the West and none in the East? That is to ask why the bishops of Würzburg and Salzburg claimed sovereign rights in times of anarchy, while the Greek bishops always remained subjects. Time, opportunity, the ambition of some and the weakness of others have done, and will do, everything in this world.
Opinion joined this anarchy, and opinion is the queen of mankind. Not that people actually have a very definite opinion; words serve them instead.
The Gospel relates that Jesus said to Peter: “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.” Around the eleventh century the supporters of the bishop of Rome maintained that whoever gives the greater gives the lesser; that the heavens surround the earth; and that since Peter had the keys to the container, he also had the keys to its contents. If by the heavens we mean all the stars and all the planets, it is evident, according to Thomasius, that the keys given to Simon Barjona, surnamed Peter, were a master key. If by the heavens we mean the clouds, the atmosphere, the ether, the space in which the planets revolve, there are few locksmiths, according to Mursius, who could make a key for those doors.
Keys in Palestine were a wooden peg tied with a strap. Jesus said to Barjona: “What you bind on earth will be bound in heaven.” The pope’s theologians concluded that popes had received the right to bind peoples to their oath of allegiance to their kings, and release them from it, and to dispose of all kingdoms as they pleased. A magnificent conclusion. In their petition to the king at the Estates General of France in 1302, the Commons said that “Boniface VIII was a B—— who believed that God bound and imprisoned in heaven whatever Boniface bound on earth.”
A famous German Lutheran—I think it was Melanchthon—found it very hard to swallow that Jesus had said to Simon Barjona, Cepha or Cephas: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my assembly, my church.” He could not conceive that God had employed such wordplay, so extraordinary a conceit, and that the pope’s power was founded on a joke.
Peter has been regarded as bishop of Rome; but it is well known that at that time, and long afterward, there was no particular bishopric. Christian society took shape only toward the end of the second century.
Peter may have traveled to Rome; he may even have been crucified upside down, although that was not the custom; but there is no proof of any of this. We have a letter under his name in which he says he is in Babylon; judicious canonists have maintained that by Babylon we must understand Rome. Thus, supposing he had dated it from Rome, one might have concluded that the letter was written in Babylon. Such deductions were drawn for a long time, and that is how the world was governed.
There was a holy man who had been made to pay very dearly for a benefice in Rome—a practice called simony. Asked whether he believed Simon Peter had been in that country, he replied: “I see no evidence that Peter was there, but I am certain about Simon.”
As for Peter himself, we must admit that Paul was not the only one scandalized by his conduct; he and his successors have often been opposed to their faces. This Paul sharply reproached him for eating forbidden foods—that is, pork, blood sausage, hare, eels, ixion, and grison. Peter defended himself by saying that around the sixth hour he had seen heaven opened, and a great sheet descending from the four corners of heaven, filled with eels, quadrupeds, and birds; and that an angel’s voice had cried: “Kill and eat.” Apparently it was this same voice that cried to so many pontiffs: “Kill everyone, and eat the people’s substance,” says Voloston.
Casaubon could not approve of the way Peter treated the good man Ananias and his wife Sapphira. “By what right,” Casaubon asked, “did a Jew enslaved to the Romans order, or allow, everyone who believed in Jesus to sell their property and bring the proceeds to his feet? If some Anabaptist in London had all his brothers’ money brought to his feet, would he not be arrested as a seditious deceiver, a thief certain to be sent to Tyburn? Is it not horrible to kill Ananias because, after selling his land and giving Peter the money, he had secretly kept a few crowns for himself and his wife to provide for their necessities? Ananias has scarcely died when his wife arrives. Instead of charitably warning her that he has just struck her husband dead with apoplexy for keeping a few pennies, and telling her to take good care, Peter makes her fall into the trap. He asks whether her husband gave all his money to the saints. The good woman answers yes, and dies on the spot. That is harsh.”
Corringius asks why Peter, who thus killed those who had given him alms, did not instead go and kill all the doctors who had put Jesus Christ to death, and had Peter himself flogged more than once. “Peter! You kill two Christians who have given you alms, and let those who crucified your God live!”
Apparently Corringius was not in a country with an Inquisition when he asked these bold questions. Speaking of Peter, Erasmus noted something very singular: the head of the Christian religion began his apostleship by denying Jesus Christ, and the first high priest of the Jews had begun his ministry by making a golden calf and worshiping it.
Whatever the case, Peter is depicted to us as a poor man who instructed the poor in the faith. He resembled those founders of religious orders who lived in poverty and whose successors became great lords.
The pope, Peter’s successor, has sometimes gained and sometimes lost; but he still has some fifty million people on earth subject to his laws in several respects, besides his immediate subjects.
To give oneself a master three or four hundred leagues from home; to wait to think until this man has seemed to think; to dare decide a lawsuit between a few of one’s fellow citizens in the last resort only through commissioners appointed by this foreigner; to dare take possession of fields and vineyards granted by one’s own king only after paying a considerable sum to this foreign master; to violate the laws of one’s country that forbid marrying one’s niece, and marry her lawfully by giving this foreign master an even greater sum; to dare not cultivate one’s field on a day when this foreigner wishes the memory of some unknown person, whom he has placed in heaven on his private authority, to be celebrated—this is part of what it means to acknowledge a pope; these are the liberties of the Gallican Church.
Some other peoples carry their submission further. In our own day we have seen a sovereign ask the pope’s permission to have monks accused of parricide tried by his royal court, fail to obtain that permission, and not dare to try them.
It is well known that the popes’ rights once went further. They were far above the gods of antiquity; for those gods were merely thought to dispose of empires, while the popes actually did so.
Sturbinus says that those who doubt the pope’s divinity and infallibility may be forgiven when we reflect:
That forty schisms have profaned the chair of St. Peter, and twenty-seven have stained it with blood;
That Stephen VII, the son of a priest, dug up the body of his predecessor Formosus and had the corpse’s head cut off;
That Sergius III, convicted of murders, had a son by Marozia who inherited the papacy;
That John X, Theodora’s lover, was strangled in his bed;
That John XI, the son of Sergius III, was known only for his debauchery;
That John XII was murdered at his mistress’s house;
That Benedict IX bought and resold the pontificate;
That Gregory VII was responsible for five hundred years of civil wars kept up by his successors;
That, finally, among so many ambitious, bloodthirsty, debauched popes there was an Alexander VI, whose name is spoken only with the same horror as those of Nero and Caligula.
“It proves the divinity of their office,” we are told, “that it has survived so many crimes.” But if the caliphs had behaved still more horribly, they would therefore have been still more divine. That is how Dermius reasons; but the Jesuits have answered him.
Plain English translation
Mouseia’s complete machine-assisted Plain English translation of the same 73 articles, made directly from the French and reviewed against the scan-collated French text. The author’s notes, quotations and verse are retained. Historical ethnic labels, including offensive terms, are retained from the 1764 text.
In Italian, Piero or Pietro; in Spanish, Pedro; in Latin, Petrus; in Greek, Petros; in Hebrew, Cepha.
Why did Peter’s successors gain so much power in the West, but none in the East? Why did the bishops of Würzburg and Salzburg claim royal powers during times of anarchy? And why did the Greek bishops always remain subjects? It’s the same question. Time and opportunity, some people’s ambition and others’ weakness, have done everything in this world. They always will.
Public opinion added its force to that anarchy, and opinion rules humanity. Not that people really have a definite opinion. Words do the job instead.
The Gospel says Jesus told Peter, “I’ll give you the keys to the kingdom of heaven.” Around the eleventh century, supporters of Rome’s bishop made this argument. Whoever gives the greater thing also gives the lesser. The heavens surround the earth. Peter has the keys to the container, so he has the keys to its contents. Does heaven mean all the stars and planets? Then, Tomasius says, Simon Barjona, nicknamed Peter, clearly received a master key. Or does it mean the clouds, atmosphere, ether, and space the planets move through? Mursius says you won’t find many locksmiths who can make a key for those doors.
In Palestine, keys were wooden pegs tied to a strap. Jesus told Barjona, “What you bind on earth will be bound in heaven.” The pope’s theologians drew their conclusion. Popes had been given the right to bind peoples to their oaths of loyalty to kings, or release them. They could do whatever they liked with every kingdom. What a magnificent conclusion! In 1302, the commons in France’s Estates General petitioned the king. They said “Boniface VIII was a B—— who thought God bound and imprisoned in heaven whatever Boniface bound on earth.”
A famous German Lutheran—I think it was Melanchthon—found one thing very hard to swallow. Could Jesus really have said this to Simon Barjona, Cepha or Cephas? “You’re Peter, and on this rock I’ll build my assembly, my church.” He couldn’t imagine God using such wordplay, such an extraordinary joke. Nor could he imagine the pope’s power resting on a pun.
Peter is supposed to have been bishop of Rome. But we know well enough that there weren’t any separate bishoprics then, or long afterward. The Christian community only took shape toward the end of the second century.
Peter may have gone to Rome. He may even have been crucified upside down, though that wasn’t the custom. But we don’t have proof of any of it. We have a letter under his name saying he’s in Babylon. Sensible experts in church law have argued that Babylon means Rome. Suppose, then, he’d dated the letter from Rome. We could’ve concluded it was written in Babylon. People drew conclusions like that for a long time. That’s how the world was governed.
A holy man once had to pay a very high price for a church benefice in Rome. That’s called simony. Someone asked him whether he thought Simon Peter had been to that country. He answered, “I can’t see that Peter was there, but I’m sure Simon was.”
As for Peter himself, we must admit that Paul wasn’t alone in finding his behavior shocking. People have often stood up to him and his successors, face to face. Paul harshly criticized him for eating forbidden meat: pork, blood sausage, hare, eels, ixion, and grison. Peter answered that he’d seen heaven open around the sixth hour. A great sheet came down from the sky’s four corners. It was full of eels, four-legged animals, and birds. An angel’s voice called out, “Kill and eat.” Wollaston says, “Apparently that same voice called out to so many pontiffs, ‘Kill everyone, and eat up the people’s wealth.’”
Casaubon couldn’t approve of how Peter treated good Ananias and his wife Sapphira. He asked, “What right did a Jew enslaved to the Romans have to order or allow this? Everyone who believed in Jesus had to sell their inherited property and lay the money at his feet. Suppose an Anabaptist in London had all his brothers’ money brought to his feet. Wouldn’t he be arrested for leading people astray and stirring up rebellion? Wouldn’t he be treated as a thief and certainly sent to Tyburn? Ananias sold his property and gave Peter the money. Without saying so, he kept a few coins for himself and his wife to live on. Isn’t it horrible to kill him for that? Ananias has barely died when his wife arrives. Peter could kindly warn her that he’s just caused her husband’s fatal stroke for keeping a few pennies. He could tell her to be very careful. Instead he leads her into the trap. He asks whether her husband gave all his money to the saints. The good woman says yes, and dies on the spot. That’s harsh.”
Corringius asks why Peter killed people who’d given him charity. Why not kill the teachers of the law who’d had Jesus Christ put to death? They’d had Peter himself whipped more than once, too. Peter! You kill two Christians who’ve given you charity. You let the people who crucified your God live!
Apparently Corringius wasn’t living under the Inquisition when he asked those bold questions. Erasmus made a very strange observation about Peter. The head of the Christian religion began his work as an apostle by denying Jesus Christ. The first Jewish high priest began his ministry by making and worshiping a golden calf.
Whatever the truth, Peter is shown as a poor man teaching poor people their faith. He’s like those founders of religious orders who lived in poverty. Their successors became great lords.
The pope, Peter’s successor, has gained at times and lost at others. Besides his direct subjects, he still has about fifty million people around the world obeying some of his laws.
You choose a master three or four hundred leagues from home. You wait to think until he’s shown signs of thinking. A lawsuit involves some of your fellow citizens. You don’t dare give a final ruling except through commissioners this foreigner appoints. Your own king grants you fields and vineyards. You don’t dare take possession without paying this foreign master a large sum. Your country’s laws forbid you to marry your niece. You break those laws, but marry her lawfully by paying that foreign master even more. You don’t dare work your field on a day he sets aside to honor some unknown person. He’s put that person in heaven on his own authority. That’s part of what it means to accept a pope. Those are the liberties of the Gallican Church.
Some other peoples submit even further. In our own day, we’ve seen a ruler ask the pope for permission to try monks accused of parricide in his royal court. He couldn’t get permission, and didn’t dare try them.
Everyone knows the popes once claimed wider rights. They stood far above the ancient gods. Those gods were only thought to decide the fate of empires. Popes actually did.
Sturbinus says we can forgive people for doubting the pope’s divine status and infallibility. Consider these things:
Forty schisms have desecrated Saint Peter’s chair, and twenty-seven have stained it with blood.
Stephen VII, a priest’s son, dug up his predecessor Formosus and had the corpse’s head cut off.
Sergius III was found guilty of murders. He had a son by Marozia, and that son inherited the papacy.
John X, Theodora’s lover, was strangled in bed.
John XI, Sergius III’s son, was known only for his drunken, dissolute life.
John XII was murdered at his mistress’s house.
Benedict IX bought the papacy and sold it again.
Gregory VII started five hundred years of civil wars that his successors kept going.
And among all those ambitious, bloodthirsty, dissolute popes, there was Alexander VI. His name inspires the same horror as Nero’s or Caligula’s.
We’re told their office must be divine, since it survived so many crimes. But suppose the caliphs had behaved even worse. Wouldn’t they have been even more divine? That’s Dermius’s argument. But the Jesuits have answered him.
About this section
P — Pierre is part of Pocket Philosophical Dictionary by Voltaire. This page sets the French original beside 2 direct-source translations, so any line can be checked against the source. It is article 63 of 73 in the work, which is kept in the European tradition.
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