Morbid Ministry

By Kathryn Wright

THE POPE AND THE CADAVER

A lesser-known episode in church history, the Cadaver Synod, occurred in AD 897 when Pope Formosus was put on trial. During his papacy, Italy experienced significant political unrest. Two influential factions of nobility competed for the pope’s endorsement of their preferred candidate to become king. One faction supported an Italian ruler, while the other favored a German candidate.

At that time, the Catholic Church held the power to determine who would rule. The pope had the authority to legitimize a king, even one from outside Rome. Pope Formosus aligned himself with the German faction. Notably, the factions were not split on theological grounds, but on political and self-serving ones.

Following Formosus’s death, his successor, Pope Stephen VI, who was aligned with the rival faction, sought to eliminate Formosus’s legacy. He ordered that Formosus be put on trial, that his papal acts be declared null and void, and that his authority be revoked. However, there was a little problem: Formosus was already dead.

In a truly disturbing display of political vengefulness, Stephen VI had Formosus’s corpse exhumed, dressed in his papal vestments, and placed on public trial at the Archbasilica of St. John Lateran in Rome. Accounts of the trial portray Stephen screaming accusations at the corpse. A deacon was assigned as Formosus’s ventriloquist spokesman, responding to Stephen’s accusations as though he were Formosus himself.

Predictably, the corpse was found guilty. It was stripped of its vestments, three fingers were removed from the right hand (previously used for blessings), and the body was first buried in a cemetery for foreigners, then exhumed again and thrown in the Tiber River. Public backlash was swift, leading to widespread outrage in Rome. Ultimately, Stephen VI was imprisoned and later strangled to death.

Much could be said about this surreal and disturbing story. Narrowly speaking, it is a grim example of the corruption in the Catholic Church. While it is a favorite tactic of modern proponents of Catholicism to legitimize the Catholic Church due to its rich history, one does not have to dig too deeply before finding the theological rot within its archives. More broadly, however, the incident illustrates mankind’s proclivity to justify ambition and power through religious office—a phenomenon not unique to the Catholic Church. At no point does it appear that the church leaders sought to determine the right course of action according to the Word of God.

The central questions did not concern righteousness or God’s will. Instead, they involved control over Rome and the consolidation of power. Religious leaders prioritized their own interests and political allegiances over service to the Lord. The outcome was a judicial proceeding lacking legitimacy, centered on a corpse. The papacy became a manifestation of human ambition rather than ministry.

THE HIGH PRIEST AND THE DEATH SENTENCE IN JOHN 11

This episode recalls the context of John 11. As in the 897 AD Cadaver Synod, Israel was also experiencing political instability. Although Rome maintained the ultimate authority, Jewish religious leaders retained some influence in Jerusalem. Political unrest was pervasive, and these leaders recognized that their positions were threatened by the possibility of rebellion against Roman rule. Against this backdrop, Jesus performed miracles, attracting considerable attention. If the populace acknowledged Him as King, it could incite rebellion, a scenario the Sanhedrin sought to prevent. Jesus was viewed as a liability, and something had to be done. This concern is revealed in John 11:48-50. Though they did not yet bring Jesus in for trial, the religious leaders discussed what to do about Him:

48 “If we let Him alone like this, everyone will believe in Him, and the Romans will come and take away both our place and nation.
49 And one of them, Caiaphas, being high priest that year, said to them, “You know nothing at all,
50 nor do you consider that it is expedient for us that one man should die for the people, and not that the whole nation should perish” (emphasis added).

The Lord’s later arrest and trial were political decisions intended to preserve positions of power. Of course, the best thing that could have happened would have been that everyone believed in Him. Instead, this was seen as a problem. As high priest, Caiaphas evaluated the situation and concluded that it was “expedient” that they allow one innocent man to die rather than risk Roman intervention. Though this showed some concern for the nation on the part of the leadership, the text reveals that their motives were equally fixated upon their “place” or positions. Caiaphas’s concern was not truth or justice, but political stability. It was better to sacrifice Jesus (whom, because of their hardness of heart, they did not believe to be the Christ) in order to preserve the system.

Nearly nine centuries later, Pope Stephen VI took a similar approach. By exhuming and condemning the corpse of Pope Formosus, Stephen aimed to eliminate a rival and consolidate his own faction’s power. Both episodes serve as cautionary examples: When spiritual authority is driven by ambition and self-interest, even the most egregious actions can be rationalized under the guise of serving “the greater good.” Although the Cadaver Synod was deeply troubling, it pales in comparison to the moral corruption that culminated in the mock trials and execution of Christ.

THE STEWARD AND THE TOMB IN ISAIAH 22

In Isaiah 22, the prophet provided another example of what happens when leadership operates with worldly ambition. In the midst of a series of burdens pronounced against nations and cities, Isaiah paused to focus on two individual leaders. Collectively, these figures represented a microcosm of covenantal blessing and cursing, revealing the Lord’s response to both corrupt and faithful leadership within Israel.

The initial oracle addressed Shebna (Isa 22:1519), the steward of the royal household, a position second only to the king. Like the pope and the high priest, Shebna misused his authority for personal aggrandizement rather than serving those under his care. He leveraged his position to construct an elaborate sepulcher, or tomb, on high. In essence, Shebna prioritized building a tomb for himself over serving the living.

In response to Shebna’s arrogance and self-serving behavior, the Lord declared that He would violently remove the steward—tossing him away like a ball—and cast him into a distant land (vv 17-18). The imagery is intentionally graphic, emphasizing divine disgust toward self-exalting rulers (cf. Matt 23:12; 24:48-51). Instead of securing honor, Shebna would become a shame to his master’s house (Isa 22:18) and would be pulled down from his position of authority (v 19). As with both Pope Stephen VI, who later died in prison, and the religious leadership of Israel in AD 70, power grasped becomes power lost.

In contrast, the Lord elevated Eliakim, explicitly referring to him as “My servant” (v 20). Unlike Shebna, Eliakim exemplified humility and servanthood. Because he did not pursue personal interests, he was entrusted with greater responsibility. Reflecting later New Testament teachings (Mark 10:42-45; Phil 2:5-11), Isaiah characterized godly leadership as being rooted in servanthood rather than ambition. Eliakim was therefore rewarded with the robe of Shebna, and the key to the house of David (Isa 22:22; Rev 3:7).

While Shebna was “the shame of [his] master’s house” (v 18), Eliakim became “a glory to his father’s house” (v 23). Faithful stewardship thus confers honor, not only upon the servant, but upon those he represents, whereas greed and ambition result in shame. Although Shebna did not exhume corpses, his legacy is defined by a monument to death. Therefore, whether through a cadaver or a tomb, those who base their lives on worldly definitions of success ultimately create ministries characterized by the macabre.

FROM SERVICE TO SEPULCHER

Like Shebna and Eliakim, believers in the church age may bring either glory or shame to the Lord through their service (1 Cor 3:12-15; 2 Cor 5:10). An individual’s life or ministry divorced from servanthood will inevitably become lifeless. As the Lord warned His disciples, those who wish to gain the world will lose their lives (Mark 8:36-37).

Of course, this does not mean the believer will be sentenced to the lake of fire. No believer will (John 5:24; Rev 20:15). Rather, believers who seek the things of the world will lose all they build (Luke 12:16-21), while those who sacrificially follow the Lord’s example will reap an abundant life now and forever. Caiaphas, Shebna, and Pope Stephen stand as sober reminders that when leadership becomes about power, it does not merely fail; it becomes a monument to death.

Whether that be manifested in the trial of a cadaver, the construction of a sepulcher, or the execution of the Son of God, the result is the same. Ministers can become so transfixed by the things of this world that their legacies will be the antithesis of the desires of God and of the abundant life He offers those who serve Him. When spiritual leaders turn toward worldly success, it is sure to follow that their work will become associated with the morbid—perhaps even a cadaver.


Kathryn Wright and her husband, Dewey, live in Columbia, SC. She is the GES missions coordinator, women’s conference speaker, writer, and Zoom teacher.

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