Below is an imagined Socratic dialogue between a Catholic (Leo) and a Protestant (Martin). It is not intended to be an exhaustive argument but rather to help Catholics see that there is strong Patristic evidence for the early Church's belief in the authority of the Pope.

Special thanks to Madeline McCourt for her assistance in editing this article.

Martin: I’ve heard it said that the early Church gave unique authority to the Bishop of Rome, but honestly, I just don’t see it. To me, it seems like a later development rather than something the early Christians actually believed.

Leo: That’s an understandable concern, and one I’ve heard before. But if we take an honest look at the writings of the early Church Fathers, they seem to say something very different. Let’s start with Ignatius of Antioch. He wrote around A.D. 110 and called the Church of Rome the one that “holds the presidency.” Doesn’t that suggest a kind of leadership role?

Martin: Not necessarily. When Ignatius says that Rome “holds the presidency,” he could be referring to its importance as the capital of the empire, not as some kind of spiritual authority.

Leo: That’s an interesting point, but Ignatius doesn’t frame it that way. He’s writing to a church, not the emperor or the civic authorities. And he specifically praises the Roman Church for its spiritual character, saying it’s “worthy of God, worthy of honor, worthy of blessing.” Moreover, he commends them for teaching others and instructing the faithful. That’s not a description of political power—it’s spiritual authority (Letter to the Romans 1:1, 3:1).

Martin: Even so, Ignatius doesn’t explicitly say that the Roman Church has authority over other churches. He’s being respectful, but respect isn’t the same as submission.

Leo: Fair enough, but let’s consider Pope Clement I. Around A.D. 80, he wrote to the church in Corinth to address a serious dispute. He doesn’t just offer advice—he commands them to reinstate their leaders and warns them that disobedience to his letter would put them in “no small danger.” Clement even claims to be speaking “through the Holy Spirit” (Letter to the Corinthians 1, 58–59, 63). Why would a bishop in Rome have the right to intervene in the internal affairs of a church in Greece unless there was an acknowledged authority?

Martin: Maybe Corinth respected Clement’s wisdom, but that doesn’t mean they recognized him as having jurisdiction over them. He could have been acting as a wise elder, not as a pope.

Leo: That’s possible, but Clement’s tone doesn’t suggest he’s merely offering advice. He writes as someone with the authority to settle the matter definitively. And we see this pattern again with later bishops of Rome. Take Pope Victor, who excommunicated the churches in Asia Minor over the date of Easter. Other bishops appealed for peace, but they didn’t deny that Victor had the authority to make such a decision (Eusebius, Church History 5:23:1–24:11). If the early Church didn’t recognize the authority of the Bishop of Rome, why didn’t they challenge his right to excommunicate?

While reading the Mass readings in my Magnificat this evening, I came across a beautiful excerpt from St. John of the Cross. I won’t share the entire passage, as writing it out would take some time, but it’s the kind of text that reads like a series of aphorisms. The only thing I’ve added are the numbers, to present his words more clearly.

St. John of the Cross, pray for us.

1. The further you withdraw from earthly things the closer you approach heavenly things.

2. Whoever knows how to die in all will have life in all.

3. Abandon evil, do good, and seek peace.

4. Anyone who complains or grumbles is not perfect, nor even a good Christian.

5. The humble are those who hide in their own nothingness and know how to abandon themselves to God.

6. If you desire to be perfect, sell your will, give it to the poor in spirit.

7. Those who trust in themselves are worse than the devil.

8. Those who do not love their neighbor abhor God.

9. Anyone who does things lukewarmly is close to falling.

10. Whoever flees prayer flees all that is good.

11. Conquering the tongue is better than fasting on bread and water.

12. Suffering for Gopd is better than working miracles.

13. As for trials, the more the better. What does anyone know who doesn’t know how to suffer for Christ.

May the wisdom of St. John of the Cross inspire us to strive for holiness and draw closer to Christ, following his example of humility, prayer, and trust in God. Which of his insights struck you the most?

Morning, all.

Today I’ll attempt a socratic dialogue on Mary as Theotokos, or "Mother of God."

James is the Protestant, Thomas is the Catholic.

James: Thomas, I gotta say, I don’t get how you can call Mary the “Mother of God.”

Thomas: Alright?

James: I mean, how can a finite human being possibly be the mother of the infinite God? It doesn’t make sense—unless you’re elevating Mary to some sort of divine status.

Thomas: Well, let me ask you: do you agree that Mary is the mother of Jesus?

James: Obviously, yes.

Thomas: And do you agree that Jesus is God?

James: Of course. He’s fully God and fully man.

Thomas: Then logically, Mary is the Mother of God. She isn’t the mother of His divine nature—that’s eternal and uncreated, which I think is where you’re getting stuck. But she is the mother of Jesus, the one person who is both fully God and fully man. The logic is simple and unavoidable:

1. Mary is the mother of Jesus.

2. Jesus is God.

3. Therefore, Mary is the Mother of God.

James: I don’t know… it feels like another invention by the Church to give Mary too much attention. And it’s nowhere in Scripture.

Thomas: True, the title “Mother of God” isn’t explicitly in Scripture, but neither are terms like “Trinity,” “Hypostatic Union,” or even “Bible.” The title is a theological conclusion drawn from Scripture, not something made up later. Take Luke 1:43, for instance. Elizabeth calls Mary “the mother of my Lord.” In the context of Luke’s Gospel, “Lord” is clearly a title for God.