From Keys to Councils: How the Church Grew, Led, and Lasted (Part 1)
Why the papacy, leadership, and Spirit-led development make sense in the post-Apostolic Church
Hi friends!
I continue to be fascinated by the ongoing debate surrounding Peter and his role as the first Chief Shepherd of the Catholic Church—our first “Pope.” The back-and-forth over Greek words, titles, and timelines is interesting, sure—but let’s be honest: the real debate is about authority.
Some argue that because we’ve had bad popes throughout history (and we have), the papacy itself must be discredited. Others take it even further, insisting that the pope was never meant to have any real authority at all—that Peter was simply given a position of honor, like a spiritual gold star, but nothing more.
A figurehead. A symbol. A seat with no real weight.
But is that what Jesus intended when He gave Peter the keys to the Kingdom? When He said, “Feed my sheep”? When He promised a Church that the gates of hell would not prevail against?
Let’s cut through the noise. In this first part, we’re not just asking whether Peter was the “rock.” We’re exploring how the Church grew from those early words—and how the role of the pope began not as a throne, but as a task.
✦ The Question Behind the Question
When people ask, “Where in the Bible does it say there should be a pope?”—it’s a fair question. But it’s often built on an assumption that the Bible functions like a church constitution or startup guide. And so, with honest intent, some comb through Matthew 16:18–19 or other key verses, searching for the word “pope” or some step-by-step policy outlining how to start and govern a global Church.
But that’s not how Scripture was written.
Scripture is not a corporate handbook. It’s not a how-to manual for building church hierarchies. And it’s not a closed-loop system of self-explanation. It is, rather, the revealed Word of God—living, inspired, and entrusted to the Church to be guarded, taught, and faithfully passed on. The Bible was written by the Church, for the Church—not outside of it. And much of its content—especially in the New Testament—was written precisely because the Church already existed.
If we’re looking for detailed job descriptions, modern titles, or a table of contents outlining a leadership org chart, we’ll come up short. But if we’re looking to understand how Jesus really did establish visible authority—and how that authority functioned and flourished through time—then we can start to see something even more powerful than a name: we see the blueprint of living tradition, built on a foundation that Christ Himself laid.
✦ A Rock and a Promise
Let’s go back to a moment many are familiar with—Jesus speaking to Simon:
“You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven…”
(Matthew 16:18–19)
It’s a pivotal moment. Jesus gives Simon a new name—Rock—and with that, a new role. The words echo Isaiah 22:22, where a royal steward is given “the keys of the house of David,” with the authority to open and shut on behalf of the king.
This isn’t casual language. This is covenantal authority. Jesus is giving Peter a share in His own mission—a visible role in a visible Church. But He’s not handing Peter a rulebook. He’s giving him responsibility, trust, and Spirit-filled authority. It’s not a script to follow. It’s a commission to live.
The rest of the New Testament shows Peter leading, preaching, opening the doors of the Church to Gentiles, correcting, and being corrected (see Acts 15 and Galatians 2). He’s not perfect—but he is clearly recognized. Not because of political power or popular vote, but because Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.”
✦ Wait—Is Peter the Rock or Just His Faith?
Some argue that when Jesus said, “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church,” He didn’t mean Peter himself—but rather Peter’s confession of faith: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”
That’s a clever theological pivot. But it doesn’t hold up to the full context—or the original language.
Jesus wasn’t handing out a theological gold star. He was giving Simon a new identity and a leadership role. In the original Greek, there’s a deliberate play on words:
“You are Petros (Rock), and on this petra (rock) I will build my Church.”
Some try to argue that petros (masculine) and petra (feminine) refer to different things—but this ignores both the Aramaic Jesus actually spoke and the broader Jewish tradition of name changes signifying a divine mission.
In Aramaic, the word is the same: “Kepha”—rock. That’s why John 1:42 tells us:
“You shall be called Cephas (which means Peter).”
Jesus is not saying, “Nice answer—here’s a rock pun.” He is giving Simon a new role in the Kingdom He is establishing.
Does that mean Peter himself is the unshakable cornerstone of salvation? Of course not. Jesus is the Rock (see 1 Cor 10:4). But Peter is the rock on which the visible Church would be built—not in competition with Christ, but in participation with Him.
And this is key: Peter’s faith and Peter the man are not in opposition. Jesus calls him “blessed” for his faith (Matt 16:17), and then commissions him as rock.
So is it his faith? Yes. Is it Peter himself? Also yes. It’s a both/and, not an either/or. And trying to drive a wedge between the two misses the whole point: Jesus chose a man of faith—weak, flawed, flesh-and-blood Peter—to lead His Church. Just as He continues to choose flawed men today to serve as His visible shepherds.
✦ From Foundation to Formation
Once we move past the question of “who or what is the rock,” we’re left with something much more important: what Jesus built on that rock. Because no matter how you read the passage, something undeniable follows—Jesus established something lasting. He promised that “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” and that Peter would hold the keys of the Kingdom.
But promises, as powerful as they are, don’t exist in a vacuum. They play out over time. And the real test of Peter’s role—and the structure Jesus gave His Church—unfolds in what came next.
The Gospels and Acts give us the beginning. But what happened when the apostles began to disappear? When the Church moved from house churches to catacombs… to councils? When Christianity grew from a few hundred to thousands to millions?
This is where the papacy starts to make even more sense—not simply as a doctrinal title, but as a Spirit-led safeguard for unity, clarity, and continuity.
✦ Part One Conclusion: A Church with a Shepherd
What we’ve seen so far is that the story of Peter didn’t end in the Gospels—and the authority Christ gave him didn’t dissolve at his death. It continued. It took root. It spread. And it grew under pressure—not in spite of Peter’s role, but because of it.
Sometimes people object: “But where is the word ‘pope’ in the Bible?” The answer is simple—it’s not there. But neither is the word Trinity, nor incarnation, nor altar call, nor Bible study—and yet all of these flow from Scripture’s living reality.
Jesus didn’t say, “You will be called pope.” He said, “Feed my sheep.” And Peter did. He shepherded. He led. He laid down his life in Rome doing exactly what Christ had commanded.
The title “pope” came later—not as a claim to worldly power, but as an expression of spiritual fatherhood. It comes from “papa”—a humble, affectionate name for one who shepherds the flock. The pope is not the king of the Church. He is, as one of his most enduring titles puts it, the “Servant of the Servants of God.”
The question “Where is the pope in the Bible?” leads us to a deeper truth: Jesus didn’t just plant a message—He planted a Church. And like any living thing, that Church was meant to grow. What started with a handful of apostles in an upper room became a worldwide body of believers, guided by the same Spirit who descended at Pentecost.
We’ve seen that the early popes were not figureheads or spiritual mascots. They were visible shepherds in a Church that needed visible unity—especially as it expanded beyond Jerusalem into the farthest reaches of the empire. Their leadership wasn’t invented by emperors or imposed by politics. It was received, recognized, and confirmed through suffering, service, and fidelity to the truth.
Still, a deeper question remains—one that we must face if we want to understand the heart of the papacy and the Church herself:
Did the Church truly have the authority—and the guidance of the Holy Spirit—to grow, adapt, and define doctrine across centuries?
Or was that growth simply a human construction?
That’s where we’ll turn next in Part 2 (soon to come) …
Please share your thoughts! Drop a comment or question in the space below so that everyone can read, benefit, comment, and share! I look forward to reading your reaction.