From Pontifex to Pope: The Pagan Accusation and the Christian Transformation of Rome
By Chris M. Forte
1. Introduction: The Accusation that Never Dies
Few claims against the Catholic Church are as persistent—or as misunderstood—as the accusation that the papacy is “pagan.”
From Reformation polemics to modern internet memes, critics have alleged that the Pope is simply the successor to the Roman high priests, that the Vatican is the spiritual heir of Babylon, and that Catholic rituals are nothing more than “baptized idolatry.”
Alexander Hislop declared in The Two Babylons (1853):
“The Pope is, in fact, the lineal successor of the high priest of Babylon.”
Jack Chick’s 20th-century pamphlets echoed the same theme, calling the Mass “a sun-worship ceremony.”
Even the Ku Klux Klan, in its early anti-Catholic propaganda, claimed the Pope was “Caesar reborn.”
But as a Catholic—and as a student of history—I find the opposite to be true.
The papacy didn’t preserve paganism; it purified it.
What was once superstition became sacrament.
What was once imperial became spiritual.
And the journey from Pontifex Maximus to Pope is the story of how grace transforms culture rather than erasing it.
2. The Pagan Origins: The Pontifex Maximus of Ancient Rome
The title Pontifex Maximus—literally “greatest bridge-builder”—predates Christianity by centuries.
In the early Roman Republic (around the 3rd century BCE), the Pontifex Maximus was the chief priest of the Collegium Pontificum (College of Pontiffs), responsible for maintaining the pax deorum—“the peace of the gods.”
The pontifices were more than ritual specialists; they oversaw sacred law, public festivals, marriages, and the Roman calendar itself. As historian Mary Beard notes:
“To control the calendar was to control time itself—and with it, the rhythm of Roman life.” (SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome)
The Religious-Political Role
The Pontifex Maximus was both a priest and a statesman. He lived in the Domus Publica, near the Temple of Vesta, symbolizing his role in protecting Rome’s sacred hearth.
When Julius Caesar was elected Pontifex Maximus in 63 BCE, the title became political as well as religious. Caesar used it to legitimize his authority by divine sanction—a practice continued by Augustus and every emperor thereafter.
Historian H.H. Scullard wrote:
“In Caesar’s hands, the Pontifex Maximus was no longer a purely priestly title—it was a cornerstone of political legitimacy.”
Thus, by the time of Christ, the Roman emperor was both ruler and high priest, uniting temporal and spiritual power.
3. The Turning Point: From Pagan Empire to Christian Civilization
When Constantine legalized Christianity through the Edict of Milan (313 AD), the empire’s religious structure began to change—but not instantly.
Constantine and his successors still held the title Pontifex Maximus, even as they supported the Church.
As Peter Brown observed in The Rise of Western Christendom:
“Old forms could be emptied of their gods, yet still filled with meaning.”
By the late fourth century, Emperor Gratian (r. 367–383) renounced the title, declaring it incompatible with his Christian faith.
This moment—382 AD—marks the symbolic death of pagan priesthood and the birth of something new.
The spiritual leadership of Rome didn’t vanish—it shifted.
The bishop of Rome, once a local pastor, gradually became the moral and spiritual voice of the city, filling the vacuum left by the emperors.
4. The Birth of the Papacy
Peter and the Apostolic Foundation
The Catholic claim to papal authority begins not with Caesar, but with Christ.
In Matthew 16:18–19, Jesus says to Peter:
“You are Peter, and upon this rock I will build my Church… I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”
Jesus Restored the Davidic Kingdom — and Peter Was Made Its Steward
A major problem with the claim that the papacy is “pagan” is that it ignores the biblical framework Jesus Himself was operating within. Christ did not come as a vague spiritual teacher founding a random religious movement. He came as the Messiah, the Son of David, and the rightful heir to the Davidic Kingdom.
The angel Gabriel explicitly announces this in Luke’s Gospel:
“The Lord God will give Him the throne of His father David… and of His kingdom there will be no end.” (Luke 1:32–33)
This is not metaphorical fluff. It is kingdom language. Jesus is the promised Davidic King. And if Jesus is restoring the Davidic kingdom, then it follows logically that He would also restore a Davidic structure of authority—not as a worldly empire, but as the spiritual kingdom of the Messiah.
That is exactly what we see in the Gospels.
The Twelve Apostles as the New Tribal Princes of Israel
Jesus did not choose an undefined number of disciples. He deliberately chose Twelve.
That number is not accidental: it is the number of the Twelve Tribes of Israel. Christ is showing that He is not abolishing Israel, but fulfilling and transforming it into its perfected form under the New Covenant. The apostles are not merely “friends” of Jesus—they are the foundation stones of the renewed Israel.
Jesus even makes this explicit:
“You who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.” (Matthew 19:28)
This is royal and governmental language. In the Davidic kingdom, Israel had rulers, judges, and appointed officials. In Christ’s kingdom, the apostles become the spiritual governors of the renewed people of God. And their successors—bishops—continue that apostolic mission of teaching and shepherding.
Peter as the Prime Minister of the Kingdom: The Keys of David
Within the Davidic kingdom, the king ruled, but he also appointed a chief steward—essentially a prime minister over the royal household. This office was not merely personal; it was a continuing position of authority.
We see this clearly in Isaiah 22, where Shebna is removed from office and replaced by Eliakim:
“And I will place on his shoulder the key of the house of David; he shall open, and none shall shut; and he shall shut, and none shall open.” (Isaiah 22:22)
This “key” is not symbolic of private holiness. It is an emblem of governing authority over the kingdom—authority delegated by the king himself.
Now compare this directly with what Jesus says to Peter:
“I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven…” (Matthew 16:19)
Jesus is not quoting Isaiah word-for-word, but the imagery is unmistakably the same. He is deliberately using the Old Testament “keys” language to establish an office of stewardship in His restored kingdom.
In other words:
Jesus is the Davidic King.
Peter is given the keys as the royal steward.
This is precisely why Catholic theology has always viewed Peter’s authority as more than personal honor. It is an office of governance in the kingdom of Christ.
This Is Why Peter Was Made “First”
The New Testament repeatedly shows Peter acting as the visible leader of the apostolic body:
-
Peter speaks for the apostles (Matthew 18:21; John 6:68)
-
Peter is consistently listed first (Matthew 10:2)
-
Peter initiates decisive acts (Acts 1:15; Acts 2:14)
-
Peter receives a unique commission (Luke 22:31–32; John 21:15–17)
This is not “pagan Roman invention.” It is a consistent biblical pattern.
The papacy is not a random later power grab—it is the natural outgrowth of Christ establishing a kingdom with real structure.
Caesarea Philippi: Christ Establishes His Kingdom in Enemy Territory
Even the location of Peter’s commissioning is rich in meaning.
Jesus makes this declaration at Caesarea Philippi (Matthew 16:13), a region known for pagan worship and shrines. Nearby was a cave associated with Pan and other pagan cults—a place considered by many Jews to be spiritually defiled.
And it is there—in the shadow of pagan temples and hostile spiritual symbolism—that Christ announces:
“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)
This is not Christ surrendering to paganism. It is Christ proclaiming victory over it.
Some people confuse this with the phrase “where Satan’s throne is,” but technically that exact wording appears in Revelation 2:13, referring to Pergamum, not Caesarea Philippi. Still, the symbolism remains: Jesus establishes His kingdom and appoints His chief steward precisely where pagan power once seemed dominant.
It is a declaration of conquest—not compromise.
The Papacy Is Not Pagan—It Is Davidic
The papacy is not based on Roman emperors, Babylonian priesthoods, or pagan mythology.
It is based on something far more Jewish and biblical:
-
Christ is the Davidic King
-
the apostles are the foundation of the renewed Israel
-
bishops inherit apostolic authority as shepherds of the kingdom
-
Peter is given the keys, echoing the Davidic steward’s office
-
and the Church is built as a real kingdom with real authority, not spiritual anarchy
The papacy is not a corruption of Christianity.
It is part of Christianity’s original architecture.
Early Church Fathers on Peter, the Keys, and Roman Primacy (Patristic Witness)
This Davidic “keys” framework is not merely a medieval Catholic invention. The earliest generations of Christians repeatedly recognized Peter’s primacy and the unique authority attached to his office.
Already in the late first century, Clement of Rome—writing from Rome to correct disorder in Corinth—acts with a tone of real governing authority, demonstrating that the Roman Church understood itself as possessing a stabilizing role beyond its local jurisdiction (1 Clement, c. AD 96).
By the second century, St. Irenaeus of Lyons explicitly appeals to Rome’s apostolic foundation and public succession as a doctrinal standard:
“For it is a matter of necessity that every Church should agree with this Church [Rome], on account of its preeminent authority, that is, the faithful everywhere…”
(Against Heresies 3.3.2)
Irenaeus then traces the succession of bishops of Rome from Peter and Paul onward, presenting Roman continuity as a public proof against heresy.
Likewise, Tertullian (early 3rd century), even before his later schismatic tendencies, acknowledges that Peter received a special foundational commission:
“Was anything withheld from the knowledge of Peter, who is called ‘the rock on which the Church would be built,’ who also obtained ‘the keys of the kingdom of heaven’…?”
(Prescription Against Heretics 22)
And St. Cyprian of Carthage, while emphasizing episcopal unity, still identifies the Petrine chair as the visible center of that unity:
“There is one God and one Christ, and one Church, and one chair founded upon Peter by the word of the Lord.”
(On the Unity of the Catholic Church 4)
Cyprian’s language is important: Peter’s chair is not merely symbolic—it is a concrete foundation of ecclesial unity.
By the fifth century, Pope St. Leo the Great makes explicit the Church’s understanding that Peter’s authority continues in the Roman episcopate:
“The care of the universal Church should converge toward Peter’s one seat, and nothing anywhere should be separated from its head.”
(Letter 14, to Anastasius of Thessalonica)
Leo repeatedly teaches that Peter continues to speak and govern through his successors:
“The privilege of Peter remains; and wherever judgment is given with his equity, the power of his name is present.”
(Sermon 3)
This is not “pagan Roman politics.” This is the early Church interpreting Christ’s kingdom in continuity with the biblical pattern of authority.
The patristic record overwhelmingly shows that Christians did not view the Petrine office as optional or invented later, but as a divinely instituted structure of unity, rooted in Christ’s commission in Matthew 16 and reinforced by apostolic succession.
Historical Growth of the Office
As the Roman Empire declined, the papacy evolved from a pastoral office into a guardian of civilization.
Pope Leo I (“the Great”) (440–461 AD) confronted Attila the Hun and articulated the theological foundation of papal supremacy, teaching that the Pope inherits not imperial power but Peter’s spiritual mission.
By the Middle Ages, popes like Gregory VII and Innocent III shaped the Church’s relationship with kings and empires.
They did not claim Caesar’s throne—they claimed his fallen world for Christ.
As historian Eamon Duffy writes:
“The Pope was not only Peter’s heir but Caesar’s too—but the empire he governed was of souls, not armies.” (Saints and Sinners: A History of the Popes)
5. Protestant and Secular Critiques
The Reformation reignited the charge of paganism.
Martin Luther denounced the papacy as “the seat of the Antichrist.”
Alexander Hislop turned the old Roman title into a Protestant conspiracy theory.
And modern secular authors have claimed the papacy simply preserved the empire’s bureaucracy in religious form.
Charles Freeman, a secular historian, argued:
“The papacy did not inherit Rome’s spiritual mantle—it inherited its bureaucracy and its empire.” (The Closing of the Western Mind)
But this view misunderstands Catholic theology.
For Catholics, continuity is not corruption.
The Church does not destroy culture—it baptizes it.
6. Catholic Response: Continuity as Redemption
The Catechism of the Catholic Church (§1147) teaches:
“The visible realities of creation can become signs and instruments of the grace they signify.”
That’s the key.
The Church took the forms of the old world—the calendar, the architecture, the symbols—and filled them with new meaning.
What was once pagan became Christian not by imitation but by incarnation.
The title Pontifex Maximus itself now refers not to one who maintains “peace with the gods,” but to one who builds a bridge between humanity and the one true God through Christ.
Pope Benedict XVI said:
“The Pope is the bridge-builder because he is called to unite man with God, peoples with one another, and faith with reason.”
7. My Perspective as a Catholic
Part of the reason I remain Catholic is precisely because of this deep continuity.
Few institutions on earth can trace an unbroken line through empires, schisms, and revolutions.
The title Pontifex Maximus is not a relic—it’s a living symbol of the Church’s endurance.
When people call Catholicism “pagan,” I think of souls—not idolaters.
Ancient pagans were not all malicious; many were searching for the divine but without revelation. Their worship was like a fractured mirror: it reflected truth, but distorted.
Christianity didn’t erase that longing—it fulfilled it.
The “Unknown God” of the philosophers became known in Christ.
The myths of dying and rising gods found their truth in the Cross and Resurrection.
The pagan altar gave way to the altar of the Eucharist.
Where pagan temples burned offerings to false gods, Christian churches now offer the one true Sacrifice of the Lamb.
Where pagan art glorified emperors, Christian art glorifies Christ and His saints.
The symbols weren’t stolen—they were purified.
8. Paganism as Humanity’s Search for God
Pope Benedict XVI once wrote:
“The pagan religions are a search for God, a groping in the dark, a reaching out toward the unknown.” — Introduction to Christianity
Paganism guessed.
Christianity knows.
Paganism sought the divine in myth; Christianity reveals Him in flesh.
That’s the difference—and that’s the transformation.
The papacy stands as proof that grace builds on nature.
God didn’t obliterate the old order; He sanctified it.
9. From Pagan to Pilgrim
The word pagan began as a label for outsiders, then became an insult, and now stands as a reminder of humanity’s restless heart.
When critics accuse Catholics of “pagan rituals” because of candles, incense, or feast days, I smile.
Those things don’t make us pagan—they make us human.
They show that the senses, the body, and creation itself can glorify God.
The early pagans built temples of stone.
The early Christians built temples of souls.
And the Church today continues her mission—to take the fragments of broken worship and make them whole again in Christ.
“For what you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you.” — Acts 17:23
That’s Christianity’s answer to paganism—not condemnation, but revelation.
The unknown made known.
The fragmented made whole.
The search completed in the One who was, and is, and is to come.
10. Conclusion: The Bridge That Endured
For some, Pontifex Maximus proves the papacy’s pagan origin.
For me, it proves Christianity’s power to redeem history itself.
The line from Caesar’s Forum to St. Peter’s Basilica is not a story of idolatry—it’s a story of conversion.
The Church took the language, symbols, and structure of Rome and filled them with Christ.
That’s not pagan survival; that’s divine reclamation.
To me, that’s what faith looks like:
Not rejecting the past, but transfiguring it.
Not erasing history, but fulfilling it.
Not worshiping the ashes, but preserving the fire.
Chicago-Style Footnotes (Patristic Support for Petrine Primacy & Rome)
-
First Clement (also called 1 Clement) is traditionally dated to the late first century (c. AD 96) and is widely regarded as one of the earliest post-apostolic Christian writings. In it, the Church of Rome intervenes authoritatively in the internal disputes of the Church at Corinth—an action frequently cited as evidence that Rome was already viewed as possessing a stabilizing authority beyond its local region. See 1 Clement, esp. chs. 1–3, 44–47, in The Apostolic Fathers, trans. Michael W. Holmes, 3rd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2007).
-
Irenaeus of Lyons, writing against Gnostic sects, appeals to the public apostolic succession of the Roman Church as a universal doctrinal reference point: “For it is a matter of necessity that every Church should agree with this Church [Rome], on account of its more excellent origin…” (Latin: propter potiorem principalitatem). See Irenaeus, Against Heresies 3.3.2, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1885), 415–16.
-
In the same passage, Irenaeus lists the Roman episcopal succession as a concrete historical argument against heresy, explicitly linking Rome’s bishops to the apostles Peter and Paul. See Irenaeus, Against Heresies 3.3.3, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 1, 416.
-
Tertullian references Peter as the one “called the rock on which the Church would be built” and as the one who received the keys of the kingdom. Although Tertullian later separated from Catholic unity through Montanism, his earlier writings remain valuable as witnesses to mainstream early Christian belief. See Tertullian, The Prescription Against Heretics 22, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 3, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1885), 252.
-
Cyprian of Carthage describes the unity of the episcopate as grounded in the singular Petrine chair: “There is one God and one Christ, and one Church, and one chair founded upon Peter by the word of the Lord.” Cyprian’s testimony is significant because he writes from North Africa, not Rome, demonstrating that Petrine ecclesiology was not confined to a Roman local tradition. See Cyprian, On the Unity of the Catholic Church 4, in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 5, ed. Alexander Roberts and James Donaldson (Buffalo, NY: Christian Literature Publishing Co., 1886), 423.
-
Cyprian elsewhere speaks of Rome as “the chair of Peter” (cathedra Petri) and “the principal Church” (ecclesia principalis), further reinforcing the concept that Rome was viewed as a focal point of ecclesial unity in the third century. See Cyprian, Letter 59 (to Cornelius), in The Ante-Nicene Fathers, vol. 5, 351–52.
-
Pope Leo I (“Leo the Great”) teaches that the care of the universal Church converges upon Peter’s seat, articulating the developed theology of Roman primacy grounded in Petrine succession. See Leo the Great, Letter 14 (to Anastasius of Thessalonica), in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, vol. 12, ed. Philip Schaff and Henry Wace (New York: Christian Literature Company, 1895), 15–16.
-
Leo also explicitly presents Peter as continuing to govern through his successors, stating that Peter’s authority remains operative in the Roman episcopate. See Leo the Great, Sermon 3: On His Anniversary (also known as Sermon 3), in Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, Second Series, vol. 12, 116–17.
Optional “Scholarly Note” Footnote on Isaiah 22 and Matthew 16
-
The typological link between Isaiah 22:22 (“the key of the house of David”) and Matthew 16:19 (“the keys of the kingdom of heaven”) is widely used in Catholic biblical interpretation as an argument that Christ intentionally echoes Davidic royal stewardship imagery. While Jesus does not quote Isaiah 22 verbatim, the “keys” symbolism and the “open/shut” authority motif strongly parallel the Old Testament steward office, suggesting deliberate continuity between the Davidic kingdom and the Messianic kingdom of Christ. See Isaiah 22:15–25; Matthew 16:18–19; cf. Scott Hahn, Kingdom Covenant: A Biblical-Theological Understanding of the Covenants (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2009), 351–60.
Optional “Caesarea Philippi Context” Footnote (Fact-Checked)
-
Caesarea Philippi (Matt. 16:13) was known in antiquity for pagan worship, including shrines associated with Pan. However, the explicit phrase “where Satan’s throne is” appears in Revelation 2:13 as a reference to Pergamum, not Caesarea Philippi. The Caesarea Philippi setting remains symbolically significant in Christian interpretation as a dramatic backdrop for Christ’s proclamation of authority over the “gates of Hades.” See Matthew 16:13–19; Revelation 2:13; Craig S. Keener, The Gospel of Matthew: A Socio-Rhetorical Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2009), 425–30.
