Gelasius, bishop, to Anastasius Augustus.
Gelasius Explains Why He Had Not Written, and Declares Himself Bound by the Duty of Preaching as Vicar of the Apostolic See
Your Piety’s servants, my sons — Faustus the master, and Irenaeus, illustrious men, together with their companions fulfilling their public legation — upon returning to the City, said that Your Clemency asked why I had not sent you any written greeting. Not, I confess, by my own design; but since those who had recently been sent from the regions of the East had spread throughout the whole City that permission to see me had been denied them by your commands, I thought it wise to refrain from writing, lest I should appear burdensome rather than dutiful. You see, therefore, that it did not arise from any dissembling of mine but from appropriate caution, lest I impose annoyances on minds disposed to reject them. But when I learned — through the aforementioned men’s report — that the benevolence of Your Serenity had graciously sought the discourse of my humility, then I truly perceived that it would justly be held against me if I remained silent.
For, glorious son, I, as one born a Roman, love, esteem, and embrace you as the Roman prince; and as a Christian, I desire to share the same zeal as one who has zeal for God according to the knowledge of truth; and as vicar, such as I am, of the Apostolic See, I strive to supply by appropriate suggestions, to the measure of my ability, whatever I find to be lacking in the fullness of the Catholic faith.
For since the dispensation of the divine word has been laid upon me, woe is unto me if I do not preach the Gospel (1 Cor. 9:16)! When the chosen vessel, the blessed Apostle Paul, fears and cries this, how much more must I, insignificant as I am, fear — if I were to withhold the ministry of preaching that has been divinely inspired and transmitted with paternal devotion. I beg Your Piety not to judge the duty of divine reasoning as arrogance. Far be it, I ask, from a Roman prince to consider the truth brought to his senses an injury.
The Two Powers That Principally Govern the World: The Sacred Authority of the Bishops and the Royal Power
There are indeed two [powers], Emperor Augustus, by which this world is principally governed: the sacred authority of the bishops, and the royal power. Of these, the weight of the priests is so much the heavier, as they will render account even for the kings themselves before the divine judgment.1 You know, most clement son, that although you preside over humankind in dignity, you nonetheless bow your neck devoutly to the leaders of divine things, and from them you seek the means of your salvation; and in receiving the heavenly mysteries and in their proper disposition, you recognize that you ought to submit yourself in the order of religion rather than to rule.
You know, therefore, that among these things you depend upon their judgment, and are not to bend them to your will. For if, as far as the order of public discipline is concerned, the leaders of religion themselves also obey your laws — recognizing that the empire has been conferred upon you by heavenly disposition — lest they seem to resist a decision made in worldly matters: with what affection (I ask) ought you to obey those who have been appointed to dispense the venerable mysteries?
Accordingly, just as it is not a light burden on the bishops to have been silent about what is fitting for the worship of the Divinity, so too (God forbid) it is no small danger to those who, when they ought to obey, show contempt. And if the hearts of all the faithful should generally submit to all priests who rightly handle divine things, how much more should assent be given to the prelate of that See which the supreme Divinity willed to have pre-eminence over all priests, and which the piety of the universal Church thereafter has perpetually celebrated?2
Your Piety clearly perceives that no one, by any human counsel whatsoever, can ever elevate himself above the privilege or the confession of him whom the voice of Christ has preferred above all, whom the venerable Church has always confessed and devoutly holds as the primate. What has been established by divine judgment can be assailed by human presumptions, but it cannot be overcome by any human power. And would that the pernicious audacity of those who strive against it were as harmless as what has been established by the very Author of holy religion is unshakable by any force: For the foundation of God stands firm (2 Tim. 2:19). Has religion, whenever it has been attacked by some, ever been overcome by any novelty, however great? Has it not rather remained unconquered precisely where it was thought capable of being brought low?
Gelasius Exhorts Anastasius to Accept His Petition and Not to Allow Damage to Religion
Let those, therefore (I ask you), who under the pretext of ecclesiastical disturbance in your times recklessly aspire to what is not permitted, desist from this. Otherwise they will neither obtain what they wrongly desire, nor will they keep their measure before God and men. Wherefore, in the sight of God, I beseech, implore, and exhort Your Piety to accept my petition without indignation: I ask indeed that you hear me pleading in this life rather than (God forbid) find me accusing you at the divine judgment.
Nor is it hidden from me, Emperor Augustus, what has been the study of Your Piety in private life. You have always desired to become a partaker of the eternal promise. Therefore I beg you, do not be angry with me if I love you so much that I wish you to hold perpetually the kingdom which you have attained temporally, and that you who rule in this age may be able to reign with Christ. By your laws, certainly, Emperor, you suffer nothing to perish; you admit no damage to the Roman name. Is it true then, illustrious prince — who desires not only the present benefits of Christ but also the future ones — that you would allow anyone in your times to inflict damage upon religion, upon truth, upon the sincerity of Catholic communion and faith? With what confidence (I ask you) will you seek the rewards of Him whose losses you do not prevent here? Let not, I beg you, what is said for the sake of your eternal salvation weigh heavily upon you. As it is written: Better are the wounds of a friend than the deceitful kisses of an enemy (Prov. 27:6). I beg Your Piety that you receive these things with the same affection with which they are said by me, and that they may be conveyed to your understanding.
On True Peace: There Can Be No Communion Without Unblemished Charity and Unfeigned Faith
Let no one deceive Your Piety. It is true, as the Scripture testifies figuratively through the prophet: My dove, my perfect one, is but one (Cant. 6:8). There is one Christian faith, which is Catholic. And truly, that alone is Catholic which, separated from all the faithless and their successors and associates, remains sincere, pure, and unblemished in its communion. Otherwise there will not be a divinely mandated separation but a pitiable confusion. Nor is any cause left — if we are willing to admit this in any taint — that we should not throw open the gate and entrance to all heresies. For whoever shall keep the whole law but offend in one point is become guilty of all (James 2:10); and he who despises small things shall fall little by little (Ecclus. 19:1). This is what the Apostolic See takes the greatest care to avoid: that since the glorious confession of the Apostle is the root of the world, it may not be defiled by any breach of corruption, nor by any contagion whatsoever.3 For if (God forbid — which We trust cannot happen) such a thing should arise, from where would we dare to resist anyone’s error, or from where would we seek correction for those who go astray?
Therefore, if Your Piety denies that the people of a single city can be brought to peace, what shall We do about the entire universe of the whole world if (God forbid) it should be deceived by our transgression? If the whole world has been corrected, despising the profane tradition of its forebears, how can the people of a single city not be corrected, if the faithful preaching succeeds?
Therefore, glorious Emperor, I do not neglect the peace of the Churches — which, even if it could be obtained at the cost of my own blood, I would embrace. But (I beg you) let us weigh with a truly Christian mind what kind of peace this should be — not just any kind whatsoever, but let us seek true peace with a Christian mind. For how can there be true peace where unblemished charity is lacking? And what charity ought to be, the Apostle teaches us plainly, saying: Charity from a pure heart, and a good conscience, and an unfeigned faith (1 Tim. 1:5). How (I ask you) can it be from a pure heart, if it is stained by external contagion? How from a good conscience, if it is mixed with evil and wicked men? How from an unfeigned faith, if it remains associated with the lost?
And although these things have often been said by Us already, it is still necessary to repeat them without ceasing, and not to be silent so long as the name of peace is spoken — so that it may not appear (as is maliciously boasted) that We resist peace, but rather that We demonstrate what kind of peace it ought to be: the only peace that exists, and beyond which no other can be found.
The Eutychian Dogma, the Principle of Complicity, and the Case Against Acacius
If it is believed that the Eutychian dogma — against which the vigilance of the Apostolic See is unceasing — can exist without violating the truth of the Catholic faith, let it be openly professed, declared, and defended by any means: so that it may be shown not only how hostile it is to the Christian faith, but what numerous and deadly heresies it contains within its mixture. If, however — as We more confidently believe — it is judged by Catholic minds to be excluded, I ask you: why do you not also declare that the contagion of those who are proved to be polluted by it must be rejected? As the Apostle says: Not only those who do such things are guilty, but also those who consent to those who do them (Rom. 1:32). Therefore, just as perversity cannot fail to be approved if its communicator is received, so perversity cannot be refuted if its accomplice or follower is admitted. By your own laws, certainly, the accomplices in crimes and the receivers of robbers are constrained by equal penalty in the courts; nor is anyone thought free from crime who, although he did not commit it himself, nevertheless received the fellowship and agreement of the one who did.
Thus, when the Council of Chalcedon, celebrated for the truth of the Catholic and Apostolic faith and communion, condemned Eutyches, the author of that detestable madness, it did not consider it sufficient until it equally struck his accomplice Dioscorus and others. In this same way — as in each heresy it is either always done or held to be necessary — their successors Timothy, Peter, and the other Peter of Antioch were struck down4: not individually, with a new council convened for each, but by the rule of the synod’s act once established, applied consequentially. How, then, is it not plainly evident that all are constrained by the same rule — both those who were their communicators and accomplices — and that all without exception are deservedly separated from Catholic and Apostolic communion? Therefore We say with justice that Acacius too must be removed from Our fellowship — he who chose to pass over into the lot of perfidy rather than to stand firm in the sincerity of Catholic and Apostolic communion. He was competently instructed by the letters of the Apostolic See over the course of nearly three years,5 so that he would not fall into such a state. After he was made a companion of that alien communion, he could not but immediately be cut off from Catholic and Apostolic society, lest by Our ceasing to act even for a little, We too should seem to have contracted the contagion of the wicked.
But indeed, did he repent after being struck by such a penalty? Did he promise correction, or amend his error? Or did he wish to be restrained more gently — he who did not even feel the harsh blows? Remaining in his own perfidy and condemnation, his name cannot be inscribed in any ecclesiastical recitation, just as the contagion of an external communion must not be admitted. Therefore, he must either be shown to be sincere and free from heretical participation — those whose communion he mingled with — or he cannot fail to be repelled along with them.
The Eastern Bishops’ Responsibility, and the Precedent of Constantinople Accepting Condemnations
If the bishops of the East murmur that the Apostolic See did not send such writings to them — as if they themselves had made the Apostolic See aware, by their own letters, of their receiving the legitimately ordained Peter, or as if they had not already become his accomplices in that unlawful reception — just as they truly cannot prove that he has been purged of heretical depravity, so they will not at all be able to excuse themselves from being companions of heretics.
And if they perhaps claim that all of them reported to the Apostolic See with one voice through Acacius about the acceptance of Peter, they likewise acknowledge that it was equally answered to them all through him. The authority of the Apostolic See — which has been set above the entire Christian Church in all Christian ages — is affirmed both by the series of the canons of the Fathers and by manifold tradition.6 But whether anyone may usurp anything against the constitutions of the Nicene Synod — that can only be demonstrated to the communion of a single assembly, not opened to the minds of those of an external society. If anyone trusts in those [arguments], let him come forward into the open, and let him refute and instruct the Apostolic See on both sides.
Let, therefore, the name be removed from the midst that works the division of the Churches far from the Catholic communion, so that sincere peace of faith and communion may be restored, and unity achieved. And then, whoever among us has risen or strives to rise against the venerable antiquity — let him be competently and legitimately examined. And there it will appear who, with modest purpose, keeps the form and tradition of the Fathers, and who, irreverently attacking beyond these things, believes he can make himself equal by plunder.
But if the case of the people of Constantinople is put before me — that the name of scandal, that is, Acacius, cannot be removed — I am silent: because when the heretic Macedonius was formerly expelled and Nestorius recently ejected, the people of Constantinople chose to remain Catholic rather than to be retained by attachment to condemned prelates. I am silent: because those who had been baptized by these same condemned prelates, while remaining in the Catholic faith, were not disturbed by any agitation. I am silent: because even for frivolous matters the popular tumults have now been restrained by Your Piety’s authority — and therefore, all the more, the multitude of the city of Constantinople necessarily obeys you, if you as prince bring them back to Catholic and Apostolic communion.
For, Emperor Augustus, if (God forbid) anyone were to attempt anything against public laws, you could by no means allow it. Do you not think it pertains to your conscience that the people subject to you be brought back to the pure and sincere devotion of God? And finally: if the mind of the people of a single city is considered so as not to be offended — that is, lest divine things be corrected as the matter demands — how much more must We in no way injure the pious faith of the universal Catholic name? Nor can We.
The Charge of Arrogance Answered: Those Who Resist Healing, Not Those Who Offer It, Deserve the Name
And yet, they demand to be healed by Our will. Let them therefore allow themselves to be healed by appropriate remedies. Otherwise (God forbid), if We pass over into their destruction, We may perish with them — but We cannot save them. I leave it to your conscience, under divine judgment, what should rather be followed: whether, as We hope, We may all together return to certain life; or, as they demand, We may openly tend toward death.
But still, they persist in calling the Apostolic See — which offers them medicinal remedies — proud and arrogant. This is often the quality of the sick: that they accuse the physicians who restore them to health with appropriate treatments, rather than consent to renounce or reject their harmful desires. If We are proud because We administer fitting remedies for souls, what shall those who resist be called? If We are proud because We say that paternal institutions must be obeyed, by what name shall those who contradict be called? If We are arrogant because We wish to preserve the worship of God with pure and unstained reverence, let those who think otherwise against the Divinity declare by what name they shall be called. So also do the rest, who are in error, think of Us — that We do not consent to their madness.
But where the spirit of pride truly resides and fights — the truth itself indicates.7
Footnotes
- ↩ The Latin is Duo quippe sunt, imperator Auguste, quibus principaliter mundus hic regitur: auctoritas sacra pontificum, et regalis potestas. The adverb principaliter — “principally,” “in the first place” — is the same word Leo uses in Letter X to describe Peter’s governing capacity among the apostles. The distinction between auctoritas (authority, carrying inherent moral and juridical weight) and potestas (power, carrying executive and coercive force) is deliberate, though scholars have debated how sharply Gelasius intended the contrast. The Latin pontificum — traditionally rendered “pontiffs” in English — is here translated “bishops,” since fifth-century pontifex was a generic term for bishops; the specifically Roman claim follows in the next paragraph. What is clear is that the two powers are not equal: the sentence immediately adds that the weight (pondus) of the priests is the heavier of the two. This passage — known by its opening words as the Duo Sunt — became the foundational text for the medieval distinction between spiritual and temporal authority. It was incorporated into Gratian’s Decretum (c. 1139) and cited by popes across centuries, including Gregory XVI in 1835.
- ↩ The argument moves in three stages: (1) all the faithful should submit to all priests who rightly handle divine things; (2) how much more to the prelate of that See which God willed to pre-eminence over all priests; (3) this pre-eminence has been perpetually celebrated by the universal Church. The a fortiori structure is precise: if submission is owed to priests generally, it is owed especially to the one whom God Himself placed above all priests. The phrase subsequens Ecclesiae generalis jugiter pietas celebravit adds that this is not a contested innovation but something the universal Church has “perpetually celebrated” — the language of continuous, unbroken recognition. The reader should note that Gelasius is writing to an emperor who had been tolerating the Acacian Schism; the argument is directed at compelling imperial submission to Roman authority specifically.
- ↩ The Latin is quia mundi radix est apostoli gloriosa confessio, nulla prorsus contagione maculetur — “since the glorious confession of the Apostle is the root of the world, it may not be defiled by any contagion whatsoever.” The image is botanical: Peter’s confession of Christ (Matt. 16:16) is the radix, the root, from which the whole world’s faith grows. If the root is contaminated, everything that grows from it is lost. The reasoning is therefore that Rome must remain undefiled not merely for its own sake but because its purity is the condition of the whole Church’s life. The practical force of the argument, in context, is that Rome cannot accept communion with those contaminated by Eutychianism — not because Rome is being rigid, but because if the root is infected, the entire tree dies.
- ↩ The three figures are Timothy Aelurus of Alexandria (the Monophysite rival to the orthodox Timothy Salofaciolus, died 477), Peter Mongus of Alexandria (installed as Monophysite patriarch in 482, the central figure in the Acacian Schism), and Peter the Fuller of Antioch (Monophysite patriarch). All three were heretics whose installations or receptions by the East were opposed by Rome; Acacius’s acceptance of Peter Mongus through the Henoticon of 482 is the act Gelasius treats as the decisive betrayal. The “legitimately [received] Peter” mentioned in the next section refers to Peter Mongus specifically.
- ↩ The “nearly three years” (fere per triennium) refers back to the period beginning with Pope Simplicius’s admonitions to Acacius (Letters V–VII of the Simplicius corpus, 477–478) and continuing through the early years of Felix III’s pontificate (483–484). During this period, Rome wrote repeatedly to Acacius urging him not to compromise with the Monophysite party. The reader who has followed the Simplicius correspondence will recognize the trajectory: Simplicius vouched for Acacius as “this most faithful priest” in Letter VII (478), but the trust eroded as Acacius moved toward the Henoticon (482), and Felix III excommunicated him in 484. Gelasius is here invoking the documentary record — the letters preserved in the Roman archives — as evidence that Acacius’s fall was not from ignorance but from deliberate choice after adequate instruction.
- ↩ The Latin is Apostolicae vero sedis auctoritas, quod cunctis saeculis Christianis Ecclesiae praelata sit universae, et canonum serie paternorum, et multiplici traditione firmatur. This is one of the most explicit claims of papal universal authority in the entire pre-medieval corpus: the Apostolic See has been “set above” (praelata) the entire Christian Church “in all Christian ages” (cunctis saeculis Christianis), and this is affirmed by two converging sources — the canons of the Fathers and manifold tradition. The claim is not that Rome is first among equals, or that Rome has a primacy of honor, but that the Apostolic See has been placed above the universal Church. The reader should note the double grounding: canon law and tradition together, not one without the other.
- ↩ This is the final sentence of the letter: Ubi tamen spiritus superbiae veraciter consistat et pugnet, veritas ipsa indicat (with the variant judicat, “judges,” for indicat). The subject of both consistat and pugnet is spiritus superbiae — the spirit of pride both resides and fights. The sentence is a pointed refusal to answer the charge of arrogance directly. Gelasius does not defend himself further; he hands the judgment to truth itself. The implication is that those who accuse the Apostolic See of arrogance are the ones in whom the spirit of pride truly resides — but Gelasius will not say it, he will let truth say it for him. The rhetorical restraint at the close is characteristic of the whole letter: Gelasius has made his case with extraordinary directness and force, and the final sentence steps back to let the reader draw the conclusion the argument has compelled.
Historical Commentary