In 1870, Pius IX wrote the following in Pastor aeternus (DS 3074):
[T]he Roman Pontiff, when he speaks ex cathedra, that is, when carrying out the duty of the pastor and teacher of all Christians by virtue of his supreme apostolic authority defines a doctrine of faith or morals to be held by the universal Church, through the divine assistance promised him in blessed Peter, possesses that infallibility with which the divine Redeemer wished that His church be endowed in defining doctrine on faith and morals; and so such definitions of the Roman Pontiff of themselves, but not from the consensus of the Church, are unalterable. (Denzinger, H., & Rahner, K. (Eds.). (1954). The sources of Catholic dogma. (R. J. Deferrari, Trans.) (p. 457). St. Louis, MO: B. Herder Book Co.)
According to Roman Catholic apologist, Robert Sungenis, the criterion for infallibility is:
A) The pope must be speaking ex cathedra, which means: (1) that he is speaking in his recognized role as teacher for all Christians (2) that he precisely defines a doctrine, not merely give general teaching (3) that the definition concerns only matters of faith or morality (4) that the definition is commanded to be believed and obeyed by the whole Church (5) that such teachings are irreformable and not subject to denial from the Church -without these criterion fulfilled, the Roman Pontiff does not speak infallibly. (Debate on Papal Infallibility, Robert Sungenis versus James White, October 2000; the debate can be found online here)
While much could be said about the dogma of papal infallibility, there is an overwhelming body of evidence, both biblical and historical, showing that the definition of Vatican I to be simply false and is to be rejected.
With respect to the Mass itself, I have written a great deal on how it is opposed to the Bible and even the theology of the earliest patristic authors so I won't repeat such arguments here. Interested readers should pursue, for instance, the articles one finds on the following page:
One opponent of the doctrine who would later leave communion with Rome would be the
Ignaz von Döllinger. The following extracts highlight how utterly ahistorical the modern Catholic dogma about papal authority and infallibility is:
For thirteen centuries an incomprehensible silence on this fundamental article reigned throughout the whole Church and her literature. None of the ancient confessions of faith, no catechism, none of the patristic writings composed for the instruction of the people, contain a syllable about the Pope, still less any hint that all certainty of faith and doctrine depends on him. For the first thousand years of Church history not a question of doctrine was finally decided by the Pope. The Roman bishops took no part in the commotions which the numerous Gnostic sects, the Montanists and Chiliasts, produced in the early Church, nor can a single dogmatic decree issued by one of them be found during the first four centuries, not a trace of the existence of any. Even the controversy about Christ kindled by Paul of Samosata, which occupied the whole Eastern Church for a long time, and necessitated the assembling of several Councils, was terminated without the Pope taking any part in it. So again in the chain of controversies and discussions connected with the name of Theodotus, Artemon, Noetus, Sabellius, Beryllus, and Lucian of Antioch which troubled the whole Church, and extended over nearly 150 years, there is no proof that the Roman bishops acted beyond the limits of their own local Church, or accomplished any dogmatic result . . . The dispute about heretical baptism, in the middle of the third century, had a still more clearly dogmatic character, for the whole Church doctrine of the efficacy and conditions of sacramental grace was involved. Yet the opposition of Pope Stephen to the doctrine confirmed at several African and Asiatic Synods, against the validity of schismatically baptism, remained wholly inoperative. Stephen went so far as to exclude those Churches from his communion, but he only drew down sharp censures on his unlawful arrogance. Both St. Cyprian and Firmilian of Cesarea denied his having any right to dictate a doctrine to other bishops and Churches. And the other Eastern Churches, too, which were not directly mixed up in the dispute, retained their own practice for a long time, quite undisturbed by the Roman theory. Later on, St. Augustine, looking back at this dispute, maintains that the pronouncement of Stephen, categorical as it was, was no decision of the Church, and that St. Cyprian and the Africans were therefore justified in rejecting it; he says the real obligation of conforming to a common practice originated with the decree of a great (plenarium) Council, meaning the Council of Arles in 314 . . . [In the eighth century] Pope Hadrian I vainly endeavored to get the decrees of the second Nicene Council on Image Worship, which he had approved, received by Charles the Great and his bishops. The great assembly at Frankfurt in 794, and the Caroline books, rejected and attacked these decrees, and Hadrian did not venture to offer more than verbal opposition. In 824, the bishops assembled in synod at Paris spoke without remorse of the “absurdities” (absona) of Pope Hadrian, who, they said, had commanded an heretical worship of images (Mansi, Council. Xiv, p. 415 seq) . . . There is another fact the infallibilist will find it impossible to explain. We have a copious literature on the Christian sects and heresies of the first six centuries--Irenaeus, Hippolytus, Epiphanius, Philastrius, St. Augustine, and later, Leonitus and Timotheus, have left us accounts of them to the number of eighty, but not a single one is reproached with rejecting the Pope’s authority in matters of faith, while Aerius, e.g., is reproached with denying the episcopate as a grade of the hierarchy. (Janus [pen name for Ignaz von Döllinger], The Pope and the Council [1870],
53, 54-55, 61-62, 73)
With respect to the clause:
[A]nd so such definitions of the Roman Pontiff of themselves, but not from the consensus of the Church, are unalterable.
This means that, when all the criteria of infallibility are met (the only undisputed instance, post-1870, of this occurring was on November 1, 1950, when Pius XII defined
the Bodily Assumption of Mary), the dogmatic definitions of the Roman Pontiff are binding in and of themselves, not from the consensus of the Church. Furthermore, this document and council settled a dispute about which is superior: the pope or the councils? This dogmatic constitution and Vatican I clearly came down on the former; the problem, however, is that another ecumenical (ergo, infallible in its decrees) council stated the opposite. In the decree
Haec sancta from the Council of Constance, dated April 6, 1415, we read the following:
This holy Synod of Constance, which forms an ecumenical council, legitimately assembled for the eradication of the present schism and for the unity and reform of the church of God, head and members, to the praise of almighty God in the Holy Spirit: in order to achieve the unity and reform of the church of God more easily, safely, richly and freely, ordains, defines, decrees, decides and declares the following:
First, this synod, legitimately assembled in the Holy Spirit, forms an ecumenical council and represents the Catholic Church in dispute, has its authority directly from Christ; everyone, of whatever estate or dignity, even if this be papal, is bound to be it in matters relating to the faith, the eradication of the said schism and the universal reformation of this church of God, head and members.
Similarly, anyone, of whatever condition, estate, and dignity, even if this be papal, who stubbornly refuses obedience to the commands, resolutions, ordinances, or precepts of this holy synod and any other general council legitimately assembled in respect of what is said above and all that has happened and is to happen in respect of this, shall, if he does not come to his right mind, be subject to the appropriate punishment and be duly punished, by other legal means should this be necessary. (Hans Küng, Christianity: Essence, History, and Future [trans. John Bowden; New York: Continuum, 1994], 466, emphasis added)
As Küng notes (ibid., 467) about the trouble Constance posed to the papacy (emphasis in original):
No wonder that advocates of a curial ecclesiology did not hesitate to claim that the decrees of Constance were not binding, with often very strange, pseudo-historical arguments. Constance, it was said, had not been ‘approved’ by the Pope, so its decrees are not formally in force. But I already demonstrated in Structures of the Church (written in 1962, already before the Second Vatican Council), how threadbare such an argument is. For in the real ecumenical councils of the real ecumenical councils of the first millennium, in any case the question of a formal papal approval was never raised; the approval of the emperor was decisive and people were content with the general consensus of the Bishop of Rome as patriarch of the West. Papal consent only arose at the medieval general synods, which were wholly dominated by the Popes. But at the Council of Constance, which again understood itself to represent the whole church, explicit papal approval was no longer thought necessary. Precisely because the council derived its authority directly from Christ, precisely because it stood above the Pope (or rather above the three Popes), the question of papal approval never arose from the start.
When the Vatican I decree on the papacy was issued, many critics believed that it would give Rome carte blanche to proclaim beliefs as dogmas that have no basis in either the Bible or anything that could be called "tradition." Such was proven when, in 1 November 1950, Pius XII dogmatised the Bodily Assumption of Mary in the bull Munificentissimus Deus. Part of the bull, including the definition of the dogma, reads thusly (emphasis added):
44. For which reason, after we have poured forth prayers of supplication again and again to God, and have invoked the light of the Spirit of Truth, for the glory of Almighty God who has lavished his special affection upon the Virgin Mary, for the honor of her Son, the immortal King of the Ages and the Victor over sin and death, for the increase of the glory of that same august Mother, and for the joy and exultation of the entire Church; by the authority of our Lord Jesus Christ, of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and by our own authority, we pronounce, declare, and define it to be a divinely revealed dogma: that the Immaculate Mother of God, the ever Virgin Mary, having completed the course of her earthly life, was assumed body and soul into heavenly glory.
45. Hence if anyone, which God forbid, should dare willfully to deny or to call into doubt that which we have defined, let him know that he has fallen away completely from the divine and Catholic Faith.
46. In order that this, our definition of the bodily Assumption of the Virgin Mary into heaven may be brought to the attention of the universal Church, we desire that this, our Apostolic Letter, should stand for perpetual remembrance, commanding that written copies of it, or even printed copies, signed by the hand of any public notary and bearing the seal of a person constituted in ecclesiastical dignity, should be accorded by all men the same reception they would give to this present letter, were it tendered or shown.
47. It is forbidden to any man to change this, our declaration, pronouncement, and definition or, by rash attempt, to oppose and counter it. If any man should presume to make such an attempt, let him know that he will incur the wrath of Almighty God and of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.
Commenting on the dogmatising of the Bodily Assumption, Roman Catholic Mariologist, Michael O'Carroll wrote:
The dogma was part of a programme planned by Pius XII, as he confided to Mgr. (later Cardinal) Tardini shortly after he had become Pope. It came as a climax to a movement of piety and theology centred on Our Lady, and prompted continuity and expansion of this movement. Literature on the subject had increased in the present century; in the decade prior to the definition . . . Due largely to Fr. Jugie’s expertise and influence, the question of Mary’s death was removed from the scope of the dogma. The idea of tracing a historical tradition from apostolic times was abandoned. It was thought better to concentrate on the whole of divine revelation so as to bring to an explicit stage what it contained implicitly. (Michael O’Carroll, Theotokos: A Theological Encyclopedia of the Blessed Virgin Mary [Wilmington, Del.: Michael Glazier, Inc., 1982], 55)
With respect to the biblical witness, there is no explicit biblical testimony to this dogma, as it admitted by Catholics themselves. Of course, neither Catholics or Latter-day Saints hold to the formal sufficiency of the Bible, but most Catholics, following Yves Congar and others, hold to the material sufficiency of Scripture which holds that all dogmas are either explicit or implicit therein. The "implicit" evidence for this dogma is that of the "woman" in Rev 12:1. The text reads as follows:
A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of twelve thorns. (NRSV)
Many modern Catholic apologists (e.g., Tim Staples) argue that the "woman" (γυνη) in Rev 12:1 is Mary, and such is evidence of her bodily assumption into heaven as this "woman" who gives birht to the "man-child" is in heaven. As Mary gave birth to Jesus (the man-child), this "proves" Mary was assumed bodily into heaven. However, the vast majority (both Catholic and non-Catholic) interpreters of the book of Revelation rejects the Marian interpretation of this verse. Consider the following representative examples:
Woman. In Revelation “woman” or “women” occurs nineteen ties: 12:1, 4, 6, 14, 15, 16, 17, 17:3, 4, 6, 7, 9 f., 18 and elsewhere in 9:8, 14:4, 19:7, 21:9. It might be said therefore, that the woman symbol is almost as important as the Lamb. This woman and the new Jerusalem are the antithesis of the harlot . . . [such is a symbol] of the faithful community. (J. Massyngberde Ford, Revelation [AB 38; Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1975], 188)
Who is the cosmic woman? Some connect her with figures in Israel’s or the church’s past or future. Eve, the mother whose seed would bruise the head of the dragon/serpent (Gen 3:1-6); Mary, the mother of Jesus; or the heavenly Jerusalem as bride of the Lamb (19:7-8; 21:9-10). Others suppose a pagan or astrological connection: a queen of heaven like the Egyptian Isis, or the constellation Virgo. Still others hypothesize a corporate representation of God’s people: Israel, who escapes the dragon/Pharaoh into the wilderness on the wings of eagles (Exod 19:4; c. Ps 74:12-15); or Zion, the mother of the persecuted people of God (Isa 66:7-9; 4 Ezra 13.32-38). It is unlikely that John has in mind an individual woman, historical or otherwise. Mary, the mother of Jesus, did not give birth to the entire people of God as this woman will (Rev 12:17). Eve gives birth to all humans, not specifically the believing community. Though the “sign” language clearly intends to guide hearers and readers to look to the heavens in the way that they seek our constellations, John cannot have had Virgo exclusively in mind since she is the sixth sign of the zodiac and this woman (12:1) is connected integrally with the number “twelve” . . . We can gain a better sense of what John intends by his “woman” representation when we look at the way he puts it to narrative use. He deploys the word gyne (woman) nineteen times. He is preoccupied with several primary roles for women in first-century society: wife (19:7), mother (12:4, 13, 17), and sexual threat (Jezebel’s false teachings conveyed through symbolism of fornication, 2:20; sexual intimacy that defiles holy warriors, 14:4; harlotry of Rome, 17:3, 4, 6-7, 9, 18). A more comprehensive study reveals that John has oriented his use of gyne around the competing images. Most notable, though the images do not come into play directly in chapter 12, is the thematic opposition between the wife and the harlot. This woman is as directly associated with her children (12:17) as the harlot later is with Rome (17:18). The most intriguing opposition is the one between the competing signs of the woman in 12:1 and the dragon in v. 3. To be sure, war breaks out in heaven between Michael the dragon (v. 7), but that later conflict is based upon the enmity that already exists between the dragon and the woman. God’s intentions, as they operate through the characterization of the woman, are already being opposed by the dragon, according to vv. 1, 3. It is not an outright hot war, it is certainly a hypertense cold one . . . The woman’s attire reveals much about her identity. He is, first of all, clothed with the sun. Clothing in Revelation is more than mere outer wear; its type and color illustrate important qualities or character traits of the person wearing it. Sackcloth indicates mourning and judgment. A purple and scarlet dress symbolizes Rome’s harlotry and opposition to God (17:4; 18:16). Christ’s bloody robe indicates the slaughter he and his followers have endured for their witness (19:13). Yet John then declares the followers’ robes are dazzling (19:14); that is precisely because they have washed them in Lamb’s blood (7:14). The dazzling robe takes on a quality o particular significance; it signals a successfully established eschatological relationship to God. The mighty angel of 10:1 is robed in a dazzling white cloud. Dazzling robes are worn by those who witness victoriously to the lordship of Christ (3:5, 18; 4:4; 7:9, 13). The bride’s (i.e., the church’s) intimate relationship with the Lamb is indicated partially through her dazzling attire (19:8). Even more dazzling would be the brightness of the sun. Though John uses “sun” most often in reference to the physical star around which the earth orbits (even if he did not himself understand it in this way). In two other places besides 12:1 he connects the quality of the sun’s color or shining with a character who populates his prophecy. At 1:16 the child of humanity has a face that shines like the sun. The face of the mighty angel clothed in a cloud at 10:1 shines similarly. In both those cases, their sunshine indicates that they are representatives of God. According to the psalmist, it is God who is apparently so adorned (Ps 104:1-2). This woman’s relationship with God and her identity as a representative for God are highlighted by the fact that she, too, is cloaked with the sun. All of her shines like the sun! Clearly, she must represent something extremely important about how God expresses God’s self in the life of God’s people. I have already argued and will maintain subsequently that she represents God’s procreative ability to birth a people of faith.
The “moon under her feet” signals elevated status; as a cosmic being she stands far above the human followers who trace their faith existence through her. But it is the stephanos (crown) of stars o her head that best complements that sun-cloak that robes her. Like the dazzling robe, the crown is an accoutrement awarded the believer who conquers by witnessing faithfully to the lordship of Christ (2:10-11; 3:11-12). The twenty-four heavenly elders whose perpetual worship is highlighted in the hymnic sections are outfitted with crowns (4:4, 10), as is the one like a child of humanity himself (14:14). Interestingly, the child of humanity also holds a symbolically complete 7 stars in his hand (1:16, 20 2:1; 3:1). This woman’s crown possesses stars in another symbolically complete number: 12. Though the number of the stars no doubt operates from the cosmological understanding that there were 12 stars of the zodiac, John integrates its use into his narrative as a number of representing completeness in terms of rapport with God (7:5-8; 21:12, 14, 16, 21; 22:2). Beale argues that the number represents both the 12 tribes (7:4-8) and the 12 apostles, who formed the leadership of the nascent church. This interpretation gains strength from the fact that earlier in his prophecy John equates stars with angels, who in turn represent churches (1:16, 20). The 12 stars, then, represent the completeness of the church that finds its foundation and indeed its genesis in this woman. (Brian K. Blount, Revelation: A Commentary [New Testament Library; Louisville, Ky.: Westminster/John Knox Press, 2009], 225, 226-27)
In the Middle Ages devotion to Mary saw the other of Jesus in Virgo, and from these the picture of the queen of heaven became a central motif of ecclesiastical painting and sculpture.
Yet the context rules out this interpretation of a specific historical future. The heavenly woman, rather, is an image of the end-time salvation community, a symbol of the church. She is the heir of the promises of the Old Testament a people of God; pointing to this is the reference to the twelve stars (cf. Gen. 37:9), which symbolize the holy twelve tribes in their end-time fullness and perfection (cf. 7:4-8; 14:1). Against the possibility that the heavenly woman refers to the people of God of the old covenant, out of which the Messiah was born, is both the continuation of the story (vv. 13-17) and quite generally the fact that nowhere in Revelation is the question of the relationship of Israel to the church treated as a theological theme. The certainty that the church has her roots in Israel and that ow she has entered into the claims of Israel to the church treated as a theological theme. The certainty that the church has her roots in Israel (cf. 7:4-8). Also, considerations of whether the heavenly woman may be understood as a heavenly prototype of the church, as a community of the consummation, find no support in the text, which clearly speaks in what follows of the earthly fate of this woman and localizes her place on earth. That the woman appears “in heaven” does not indicate a serious contradiction when one recognizes that here heaven is introduced not as the place of God and his heavenly assembly but as the firmament on which an appearance of symbolic significance becomes visible. That the woman is clothed by the sun and stands above the moon—no different than the crown of stars—signifies the promises to the church; to her is promised the future consummation and triumph over the powers of darkness. (Jürgen Roloff, Revelation [Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1993], 145)
woman: This woman is surely the bride, the heavenly Jerusalem (19:7–8; 21:9–10), antithesis of the harlot (Rome) (17:14; 18:16). . . . The woman, though first seen in a setting of splendor, is with child and close to delivery. Her birth-pangs may be those of Eve (Gen 3:16); they are, more immediately, the birth-pangs of travailing Israel. See Mic 4:10, “Writhe and groan, O daughter of Zion, like a woman in travail.” In rabbinical literature “the birth-pangs of the Messiah” is a familiar phrase. Verses 5–6 identify the woman more closely. Whatever his background, and whatever the later use of the text (in Mariology), for John this woman is the heavenly Israel, depicted in terms of the woman of Gen 3. She is faced by Satan, the ancient serpent (Gen 3:1); she brings forth in anguish (3:16); her child will suffer attack by Satan (3:15). She is, all the while, the people of God who gives birth to the Messiah and the messianic age.
In stark contrast to the woman stands another sign: a great red dragon. Much earlier than the Python image is that of dragon or sea-serpent as a mythic symbol of chaos. Babylonian and Canaanite texts mention a serpentine monster with seven heads. In his text, John links the “dragon” with the “serpent” of Gen 3. Already, in a retelling of the Genesis story, the nāḥāš (“snake”) had become “the devil” (Wis 2:24). In his reference to the sweeping down of “a third of the stars” John seeks to depict the colossal reach and vast strength of the monster. In Dan 8:10, which he surely has in mind, the “stars” are angelic representatives of pagan powers. John’s text has nothing to do with a legendary “fall” of angels. It is worth observing that a reading of Gen 6:1–4 in the sense of angelic “fall” is not biblical. It goes back to 1 Enoch 6–13.
The dragon seeks to destroy the child of the woman. Her “male child” is the Messiah, explicitly identified as such by the invocation of Psalm 2. The reference is significant. The anointed king of the Psalm is addressed by God not at his birth but at his enthronement: “You are my son, today I have begotten you” (Ps 2:7). See Acts 13:33, “This he has fulfilled … by raising Jesus; as also it is written in the second psalm, ‘Thou are my son, today I have begotten thee’ ”; the text is applied to the resurrection (see Rom 1:4). By the “birth” of the Messiah John does not mean the nativity but the Cross—the enthronement of Jesus. Interestingly, the idea behind this passage of Revelation is thoroughly Johannine: the death of Jesus, which is his glorification, is also the moment of the assault of Satan and of his defeat. Precisely by dying on the cross, Jesus defeated the dragon and was exalted to God’s right hand. The Fourth Gospel has no temptation story at the beginning of the ministry: Satan makes his bid at its close. It is he who instigated Judas’ betrayal (John 13:2, 27; see Luke 22:3). In his final discourse Jesus declared: “I will no longer talk much with you, for the ruler of this world is coming. He has no power over me” (John 14:30). Luke, who has many contacts with the Johannine tradition, reflects the same viewpoint. After the temptation story he adds, “And when the devil had ended every temptation, he departed from him until an opportune time” (Luke 4:13); the moment indicated by the “opportune time” is the moment of the passion (22:3, 53).
Meanwhile the woman—the people of God of the Old Testament who, having given Christ to the world, thereby became the Christian Church—found refuge in the desert where God cared for her for 1,260 days. This is the equivalent of forty-two months or three and one-half years—the earthly duration of the Church. By “desert” John seems to have in mind more than an unspecified traditional place of refuge; v. 14 surely has the Exodus in view. Wilderness suggests the Sinai wandering: the desert was the place of freedom and safety after Egyptian bondage, the oppression of the dragon/Pharaoh. Besides, God’s care, described as sustainment, or nourishing, recalls the manna.
To John the Church appears as a woman, pregnant with the Messiah, a woman who will become bride of the Lamb. In the here and now she is protected from the malignant design of the dragon. Jesus had spoken to Peter of “my Church,” promising that the “gates of Hades” would not prevail against it (Matt 16:18). We share that assurance. But we must also expect that the Church will ever be an ecclesia pressa, a Church under fire. The dragon will be around until the end. (Wilfrid J. Harrington, Revelation [Sacra Pagina Series vol. 16; Collegeville, Minn.: Liturgical Press, 2008], 128, 129-31)
What about the purported patristic evidence for belief in this concept? In section 78 of the Panarion, entitled, "Against the Antidicomarians" 11:2-6, Epiphanius of Salamis wrote the following:
If any think <I> am mistaken, moreover, let them search through the scriptures and neither find Mary's death, nor whether or not she died, nor whether or not she was buried--even though John surely traveled throughout Asia. And yet, nowhere does he say that he took the holy Virgin with him. Scripture simply kept silence because of the overwhelming wonder, not to throw men's minds into consternation. For I dare not say--though I have my suspicions, I keep silent. Perhaps, just as her death is not to be found, so I may have found some traces of the holy and blessed Virgin In one passage Simeon says of her, "And a sword shall piece through thine own soul also, that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed." And elsewhere the Revelation of John says, "And the dragon hastened after the woman who had born the man child, and she was given the wings of an eagle and was taken to the wilderness, that the dragon might not seize her." Perhaps this can be applied to her; I cannot decide for certain, and am not saying that she remained immortal. But neither am I affirming that she died. For scripture went beyond man's understanding and left it in suspense with regard to the precious and choice vessel, so that no one would suspect carnal behavior of her. Whether she did, I don't know, and [even] if she was buried, she never had carnal relations, perish the thought! Who will choose, from self-inflicted insanity, to cast a blasphemous suspicion [on her], raise his voice, give free rein to his tongue, flap his mouth with evil intent, invent insults instead of hymns and glory, hurl abuse at the holy Virgin, and deny honor to the precious Vessel? (The Panarion of Epiphanius of Salamis, Books II and III. De Fide [2d ed.; trans. Frank Williams; Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2013], 624-25)
One should note the lack of information about the end of Mary's life. Notwithstanding Epiphanius often being cited as patristic support for the Bodily Assumption of Mary, nowhere does Epiphanius affirm such as a dogmatic belief of the Christian faith. Indeed, as the leading scholar on the origins and development of the dormition and assumption traditions of Mary, Stephen Shoemaker, noted on Epiphanius' understanding of the end of Mary's life:
This long and profound silence surrounding Mary’s life first arouses concern only late in the fourth century, when Epiphanius of Salamis pauses momentarily during his energetic refutation of the heretics in the Panarion to reflect on the disquieting fact that he can find no authorized tradition about how the Virgin’s life ended. Despite Epiphanius’ close contacts with Palestine, where the cult of the Virgin’s tomb would soon develop, he professes a complete ignorance of the Virgin’s final days. This is not for want of searching, however: Epiphanius reports that he has carefully investigated the matter and uncovered several possibilities, but ultimately he cannot decide which of these alternatives bears the truth. Epiphanius begins by addressing the biblical tradition, apologizing that the Scriptures are silent on this matter ‘because of the overwhelming wonder, not to throw men’s minds into consternation’. Despite the apology, Epiphanius quickly turns to the New Testament for clues as to how the Virgin’s earthly life may have come to a close. He first considers Symeon’s prophecy that ‘a sword shall pierce your own soul too’, thinking that this might suggest Mary’s death as a martyr. Then Epiphanius turns to chapter 12 of John’s Apocalypse, which describes ‘a woman clothed with the sun, with the moon under her feet, and on her head a crown of stars’, who gave birth to a son. When attacked by ‘the dragon’, she was ‘given the two wings of the great eagle, so that she could fly from the serpent into the wilderness, to her place where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time’. His attacks thwarted, the dragon then turns to persecute her children. This passage, Epiphanius proposes, may indicate that Mary did not die as other human beings, but somehow remained immortal, although he makes clear his own uncertainty and refrains from advocating this view . . . Ultimately, Epiphanius cannot himself decide if either of these two biblical traces is trustworthy, and, hedging his bets, he concludes: ‘[I] am not saying that she remained immortal. But neither am I affirming that she died’. This is in fact the general tenor of his entire discussion of the matter: throughout he very carefully avoids endorsing any of the possibilities he raises, merely noting their existence and some of the evidence in favour of each position. This does not necessarily mean, however, that when Epiphanius was completing his Panarion (c. 377) there were as of yet no developed traditions about the end of the Virgin’s life in circulation; it merely reveals that there was no authoritative or orthodox tradition (in his view) to which he could turn. Quite the contrary, Epiphanius’ indecisive reflections themselves suggest that some difference of opinion had already arisen among Christians as to whether Mary actually died or remained immortal, a difference which Epiphanius could not resolve through recourse to either biblical or church tradition. (Stephen J. Shoemaker, Ancient Traditions of the Virgin Mary’s Dormition and Assumption [New York: Oxford University Press, 2003], 11-12, 13-14)
Much more could be said about Papal Infallibility, but let us end simply by quoting the condemnation of Honorius due to theological heresy (Honorius thought Monothelitism which states Christ had one, not two wills, contra Chalcedon [AD 451] that dogmatically affirmed Dyothelitism):
The holy council said: After we had reconsidered, according to our promise which we had made to your highness, the doctrinal letters of Sergius, at one time patriarch of this royal god-protected city to Cyrus, who was then bishop of Phasis and to Honorius some time Pope of Old Rome, as well as the letter of the latter to the same Sergius, we find that these documents are quite foreign to the apostolic dogmas, to the declarations of the holy Councils, and to all the accepted Fathers, and that they follow the false teachings of the heretics; therefore we entirely reject them, and execrate them as hurtful to the soul. But the names of those men whose doctrines we execrate must also be thrust forth from the holy Church of God, namely, that of Sergius some time bishop of this God-preserved royal city who was the first to write on this impious doctrine; also that of Cyrus of Alexandria, of Pyrrhus, Paul, and Peter, who died bishops of this God-preserved city, and were like-minded with them; and that of Theodore sometime bishop of Pharan, all of whom the most holy and thrice blessed Agatho, Pope of Old Rome, in his suggestion to our most pious and God-preserved lord and mighty Emperor, rejected, because they were minded contrary to our orthodox faith, all of whom we define are to be subjected to anathema. And with these we define that there shall be expelled from the holy Church of God and anathematized Honorius who was some time Pope of Old Rome, because of what we found written by him to Sergius, that in all respects he followed his view and confirmed his impious doctrines. We have also examined the synodal letter of Sophronius of holy memory, some time Patriarch of the Holy City of Christ our God, Jerusalem, and have found it in accordance with the true faith and with the Apostolic teachings, and with those of the holy approved Fathers. Therefore we have received it as orthodox and as salutary to the holy Catholic and Apostolic Church, and have decreed that it is right that his name be inserted in the diptychs of the Holy Churches. (The Sentence Against the Monothelites, Session XIII of the Sixth Ecumenical Council--The Third Council of Constantinople, Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers series II, vol. 14 pp. 342-43; emphasis added)
Many Catholics will now admit that Honorius was condemned for theological heresy, but he was a material heretic, not a formal heretic (meaning he preached heresy as a private theologian, but not as acting as Roman Pontiff). See John Chapman,
The Condemnation of Pope Honorius (1907) for a discussion.
As the dogma of Papal Infallibility will probably be discussed in the next few days, such will provide Latter-day Saints a great opportunity to discuss, in an informed, honest manner, why we reject the dogma and also to give the reasons for our belief in the truthfulness of the Restored Gospel of Jesus Christ.
