The Medieval Biblical Canon Revisited

Protestants are frequently treated to the unworthy accusation that their “interpretive paradigm” (“IP”) produces “merely human opinion” whereas the Roman Catholic “IP” actually provides [the mere possibility] of providing a hard, clean line between “mere human opinion” and “divine revelation”.

For example:

the Protestant has no way, other than fallible arguments, to secure his account of what belongs in the canon, which account, in the case of the OT, runs counter to what the older traditions of Catholicism and Orthodoxy eventually concluded. Therefore, he has no way, other than the use of fallible arguments, to show how the canon should be identified. And if he doesn’t have more than that, then he has no way of making certain that the way he identifies the norma normans for the other secondary authorities is correct.

[For Roman Catholics] there is a principled as opposed to an ad hoc way to distinguish the formal, proximate object of faith from fallible human opinions about how to identify it in the sources. And that is the way in which the Catholic can distinguish the assent of faith from that of opinion.

Well, the Medievals, it seems, were in the same boat as the post-Tridentine Protestants, because the “infallible Church” with the “unbroken succession” during those centuries really hadn’t ruled authoritatively what the “infallible canon” was to be. In fact, the claim was, they didn’t need one.

So the “Catholics” of that day had the same problems that the Protestants had. As Richard Muller relates:

Reformation500: a new review of Michael Kruger’s “Canon Revisited”

Michael Kruger, "Canon Revisited"

John Stebbe, a new writer at http://reformation500.com and a former-Lutheran-turned-Reformed believer, has posted a glowing review of Michael Kruger’s “Canon Revisited”:

http://reformation500.com/2013/06/25/review-of-canon-revisited-by-michael-kruger/

The author answers the question, “How can Christians have confidence that the 27 books of the New Testament are the correct ones?” …

Kruger … says that God has provided “the proper epistemic environment in which belief in the canon could be reliably formed.” This environment has three parts:

1) Providential exposure: the books which God has inspired as Scripture will be available for Christians to examine.

2) Attributes of canonicity: Divine qualities, corporate reception, and and apostolic origins.

3) Internal testimony of the Holy Spirit.

The author says that the[se] ‘attributes of canonicity’ are mutually reinforcing.

While Kruger “does not attempt to convince skeptics that the Bible is the Word of God”, he makes the firm case, “from the Scriptures themselves, as well as evidence from history”, that the Bible, especially the New Testament, contains precisely the books that God intended.

Stebbe reminds readers about Roman Catholic claims to authority, and reminds them that the Canon of the Hebrew Scriptures came first:

Rome asks us to accept its authority because it is the Roman Catholic Church. In other words, Rome’s authority is self-authenticating. Yet Catholics criticize Protestants for claiming that the Scriptures are self-authenticating. Kruger asks us to recall that the first Christians had a canon even before the New Testament was written. Their canon was the Old Testament, which “seemed to have existed just fine before the founding of the Church.” So the first Christians had no trouble recognizing the books of the Old Testament as Scripture, without an external authority such as Rome giving its imprimatur. This was only possible because the Old Testament books were self-authenticating.

You can check out some articles I wrote earlier on this work, and also the “Kruger vs Ratzinger” series that I wrote on the topic of “which came first, “the Church” or the Scriptures?

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The ‘Rule of Faith’ and the New Testament Canon

David Anders #224:

I think perhaps I was not sufficiently clear in my question.

I wasn’t asking about how we identify the canon.
(For the record, however, I have glanced at Kruger.)

For the sake of argument – even if I were to grant Kruger his thesis – (‘self-attestation’) – this still does not get at my question.

The question is not, “how do we identify the canon?”

It is, rather, “How do we know that the canon is (or is not) the rule of faith?”

My understanding of the Protestant confessions leads me to the understand that

1) All articles of faith must be established by divine revelation.
2) Sola Scriptura is an article of faith.
3) Sola Scriptura means that the canon (however we come to recognize it) is the Rule of Faith.

Presumably, then, Sola Scriptura must be established by divine revelation.

My question: where does divine revelation establish that this canon of Scripture we possess (however we come to recognize it) is the Rule of Faith.

Irenaeus confirms Michael Kruger on the "canonical core" of Scripture

I'm continuing to interact with the folks at Called to Communion.

Irenaeus is offered up as “direct evidence”. I question that evidence up above, especially his reporting of history, but citing Darrell Bock, who said that Irenaeus was a faithful reporter of the Gnostic heresies against which he was discoursing, I allowed that it may also be possible to allow that Irenaeus was a faithful reporter of what the church believed at the time.

In this vein, it is interesting that immediately before Irenaeus says anything about either “succession” or “Rome”, he talks about the Scriptures, and echoes these warnings from Matthew: the notion that the Apostles had a totally new message, that this message itself was the bearer of its own power, and that those who did not keep it properly were subject to “the worst calamity”:

The Lord of all gave his apostles the power of the Gospel, and by them we have known the truth, that is, the teaching of the Son of God.

Not the leftover teaching of the Jews. Per Cullmann, this is Paul’s paradosis “from the Lord” (1 Cor 11:23 etc).

To [the Apostles], the Lord said, “He who hears you hears me, and he who despises you despises Him who sent me”. For we have known the “economy” for our salvation only through those through whom the Gospel came to us [only through the Apostles]; and what they first preached they later, by God’s will transmitted to us in the Scriptures so that would be the foundation and pillar of our faith (“Against Heresies, 3 Pr.).”

So here, in the words of Irenaeus, before there is a promise of an “unbroken succession”, we have the Apostles carrying the message, and the message being written down, and what is written, to Irenaeus, is “the foundation and pillar of our faith”.

He continues:

It is not right to say that they preached before they had perfect knowledge …

That is, the apostles had “perfect knowledge” which they preached and set down. This speaks to Irenaeus’s understanding of “development”, too, as some [Gnostics] venture to say,

boasting that they are correctors of the apostles. For after our Lord arose from the dead and they were clad with power from on high by the coming of the Holy Spirit, they were filled concerning everything and had perfect knowledge. They went forth to the ends of the earth proclaiming the news [the message] of the good gifts to us from God and announcing heavenly peace to men. Collectively and individually they had the Gospel of God.

They had the message and it was written down. It is the written records that are “by God’s will transmitted to us”. Not “the succession”. Here, Irenaeus describes what Kruger called “the canonical core”. This, too, before any mention of “succession”:

Thus Matthew published among the Hebrews a gospel written in their language, at the time when Peter and Paul were preaching at Rome and founding the church there. After their death Mark, the disciple and interpreter of Peter, himself delivered to us in writing what had been announced [the message] by Peter. Luke, the follower of Paul, put down in a book the Gospel preached by him. Later John the Lord’s disciple, who reclined on his bosom, himself published a Gospel while staying at Ephesus in Asia.

Note, this is in contrast to the process that Joseph Ratzinger outlined in his work “Primacy, Episcopacy, and Successio Apostolica” (which I’ve cited above):

“The concept of [apostolic] succession was clearly formulated, as von Campenhausen has impressively demonstrated, in the anti-Gnostic polemics of the second century; [and not in the first century] its purpose was to contrast the true apostolic tradition of the Church with the pseudo-apostolic tradition of Gnosis” (pgs 22-23).

The idea of a “New Testament” as “Scripture” is still quite inconceivable at this point—even when “office”, as the form of the paradosis, is already clearly taking shape” (Ratzinger 25).

We should not deceive ourselves: the existence of New Testament writings, recognized as being “apostolic”, does not yet imply the existence of a “New Testament” as “Scripture”—there is a long way from the writings to Scripture. It is well known, and should not be overlooked, that the New Testament does not anywhere understand itself as “Scripture”; “Scripture” is, for the New Testament, simply the Old Testament, while the message about Christ is precisely “spirit”, which teaches us how to understand Scripture.” The idea of a “New Testament” as “Scripture” is still quite inconceivable at this point—even when “office”, as the form of the paradosis, is already clearly taking shape” (Ratzinger, 25).

This open situation of the existence of recognized New Testament writings without the existence of any New Testament principle of Scripture or any clear notion of the canon lasted until well in the second century—right into the middle of the period of the conflict with Gnosticism. Before the idea of a “canon” of New Testament Scripture had been formulated, the Church had already developed a different concept of what was canonical; she had as her Scripture the Old Testament but this Scripture needed a canon of New Testament interpretation, which the Church saw as existing in the traditio guaranteed by the successio (Ratzinger, 25-26).

This notion is reproduced in CCC 83:

83 The Tradition here in question comes from the apostles and hands on what they received from Jesus’ teaching and example and what they learned from the Holy Spirit. The first generation of Christians did not yet have a written New Testament, and the New Testament itself demonstrates the process of living Tradition.

Note that Irenaeus here contrasts with both Ratzinger and the CCC at this point. Irenaeus provides us “direct evidence”, in K. Doran’s usage, that what the Apostles preached, and then what they “put down” was, actually, “the Scriptures” which “would be the foundation and pillar of our faith”.

Cullmann’s whole premise is to say that there is a sharp disjunction between the “oral transmission” of the message, and the need to write it down in a fixed, canonical form.

Irenaeus has said all of that before he talks about Rome. At this point, too, there is an echo of the warnings of Matthew 23:

Thus the tradition of the apostles [now written down as “Scriptures”] manifest in the whole world, is present in every church to be perceived by all who wish to see the truth. We can enumerate those who were appointed by the apostles as bishops in the churches as their successors even to our time, men who taught or knew nothing of the sort that [the Gnostics] madly imagine. If however the apostles had known secret mysteries that they would have taught secretly to the “perfect,” [as the Gnostics were teaching – those who could somehow improve on the Apostles’ message, perhaps through some process of “development”], they would certainly have transmitted them especially to those to whom they entrusted the churches. For they wanted those whom they left as successors, and to whom they transmitted their own position of teaching, to be perfect and blameless in every respect [1 Tim 3:2). If these men acted rightly it would be a great benefit, while if they failed it would be the greatest calamity.

What we have in Matthew 23 is echoed here in Irenaeus. It is not the promise of some future “unbroken succession, but as evidence that a faithful transmission has occurred to this point. It is a warning against “improving upon” the message (rather, the need to keep it faithfully” and also that warning (in the light of the destruction of the temple) that those, in the “succession”, “if they failed it would be the greatest calamity”.

This is not a promise for the future, but an echo of Matthew’s warning of destruction to church leadership that was not faithful.

Paul: on authority: “They added nothing to my message” (Gal 2:6)

What follows here is my response to comments by Michael Liccione and Bryan Cross, probably two of the more significant thought leaders among the “Called to Communion” gang, on the topics, roughly, of “Scripture and church” or “authority” or “apostolic succession and New Testament canon”.

Regular readers here will recognize many of the themes I’ve written about in the past. But what I’ve put down here for the first time is something I’ve had in mind for a long time, but have not till this point been able to articulate it succinctly enough. Indeed, what follows here is rough, but it is the thing I’ve had in mind from the moment that I decided I could no longer be Roman Catholic. This is where the battle is, and must be joined. This is where the battle for Jason Stellman’s heart and mind and soul is occurring. It is where Joshua Lim goes wrong.

What follows here is what makes the Reformation [warts and all] the most worthwhile thing that could have happened in church history.

You will note that this is necessarily incomplete. What follows has been submitted in an even rougher form as a series of comments in this Called to Communion thread. Lord willing they will let my comments be published, and it will lead to further discussion.

Given the incompleteness of what I write here (I’ll call it an “outline” of my primary argument against Roman Catholic authority), I do need to thank Dr. Michael Kruger and his work Canon Revisited, for closing the circle. For completing the “authority of Scripture” loop. It is my intention to “tear down” the Roman Catholic authority structure, and that’s what I do in this piece. But Dr. Kruger builds and rebuilds. He shows, in detail that I have not yet covered here, the reasons why the New Testament canon stands alone. I think a lot of people will be eternally grateful to Dr. Kruger for his work.

Apostolic Origins of the New Testament Canon

In a way, I’ve been like a kid in a candy shop, working through Michael Kruger’s Canon Revisited. Not only is the work itself just an incredibly rich source of information about the Apostolic period and the early and late second centuries, but it ties together so many other things as well.

And of course, key for me is the opportunity to tell Roman Catholics that yes, the New Testament Scriptures came first, and then the idea of “apostolic succession” was much later and not foundational to “the church that Christ founded”. That the notion of “a succession of bishops” was later and secondary to the “succession” of the message. That Apostles held a unique, foundational, non-repeatable (and “non-succeedable” role) in earliest Christianity. That they were more concerned that “the Apostolic message”, the “Apostolic paradosis”, whether spoken or written, be the thing that is focused on. Any concept of “a succession of bishops” was later than, and secondary to the content of this new message that the Apostles preached.

Kruger’s chapter, “The Apostolic Origins of the Canon” is such a rich source of details about this that I’m going to continue to spend some time in this area. All the while, though, keep in mind that what Kruger is saying comes far earlier (in the 50’s AD, vs the 150’s AD) about what’s truly important in the church.

* * *

Kruger’s first purpose, however, seems to be to address the generations of critical scholars who caused so much confusion and difficulty in the 19^th and 20^th centuries. And he does an exceptional job of this:

For many scholars, particularly from the historical-critical model, the idea of a canon arose well after the books of the New Testament were written—and thus was retroactively imposed upon books originally composed for another purpose. Thus, it is argued, the existence of a New Testament canon could not have been anticipated or expected ahead of time, but finds its roots squarely in the theological and political machinations of later Christian groups. Koester argues that “the impelling force for the formation of the canon” was the second-century heretic Marcion. In order to counter Marcion, the “New Testament canon of Holy Scripture … was thus essentially created by Irenaeus.” For reasons such as this, McDonald argues that “no conscious or clear effort was made by these [New Testament] authors to produce Christian Scriptures,” and Gamble contends that “nothing dictated that there should be a NT at all.” Barr is even more direct: “The idea of a Christian faith governed by Christian written holy Scriptures was not an essential part of the foundation plan of Christianity” (Kruger 160-161).

Of course, this is precisely the argument that Joseph Ratzinger made in 1961, which was repeated in the 1994 CCC, and re-issued as (and in fact, trumpeted as) a book written by “Pope Benedict XVI”, who relied on these very historical-critical arguments, all the while decrying the “historical-critical” method as a proper hermeneutic for Roman Catholics.

Kruger instantly focuses on what is wrong with this line of thinking:

But are we to really think that “the impelling force for the formation of the canon” goes no further back than the second century? We shall argue that the historical-critical model has been myopically focused on the time after the writing of the New Testament books and, as a result, has overlooked the critical time before and during the writing of these books, particularly the significance of the redemptive-historical epoch from which they came. In short, it has been preoccupied with the corporate reception of these books and has neglected their apostolic origins. It is here, then, that we come to the second of our three attributes of canonicity. The apostolic character of these books reminds us that their authority—indeed their very existence—does not depend on the actions of the later church but is rooted in the foundational role played by the apostles as “ministers of the new covenant” (2 Cor 3:6). They are not regarded as canon because the church receives them; the church receives them because they are already canon by virtue of their apostolic authority (161).

Here, now, is a key to Kruger’s method. (Keep in mind, he has, by this point, already addressed the “divine qualities” of the New Testament canon – the fact that “God breathed” these scriptures into existence. Here, in this chapter, he will speak of the many different facets of “Apostolic origins” of these writings, before delving into some of the messy details about “corporate reception” of the canon by the early church.

The purpose of this chapter, then, is to explore the apostolic origins of these books in greater detail (while addressing a potential “defeater” to apostolic origins along the way. But we cannot begin there. The foundational role of the apostles must be understood within its proper context. Thus, we first want to examine the historical and theological matrix of the first century that gave birth to these books. Was this an environment in which canonical books would have naturally sprouted? Were the theological and historical conditions favorable for a new scriptural deposit to emerge? What do we know about early Christian beliefs, and how would they have affected their expectation of a new revelation from God? Although there are many ways to address these questions, we shall argue that there were two key factors in the historical context: (1) there was a structural framework for canon already in place [in the form of Christ’s naming of a New Covenant and a related expectation for “covenant documents]; (2) and there was a clear and powerful rationale for canon: redemption. After this historical context has been established, we will address the role of the apostles as the “agents” of the canon. When these three factors (covenant, redemption, and apostolicity) are viewed together, it will become clear that the idea of a canon was not an after-the-fact development with roots in church history, but rather a natural, early, and inevitable development with roots in redemptive history (162).

And in the process of bringing out these ideas, I’m going to continue to focus on notions of different kinds of “tradition”, the primary role of the Apostles and the lateness of the idea of “succession”, and more. 

A definition of “apostle”, and the New Testament canon as “the real heir of the apostles’ authority”

The message of redemption in Jesus Christ was entrusted to the apostles of Christ, to whom he gave his full authority and power: “The one who hears you hears me, and the one who rejects you rejects me” (Luke 10:16, pg 109).

In Kruger’s analysis, one of the “criteria for canonicity” is “Apostolic origins”. What does it mean if a writing has “apostolic origins”?

In the conflict between Roman Catholicism and Protestantism, the point at which “the rubber meets the road” lies within terms like “apostolic authority” and “apostolic succession” and “apostolic tradition”. As I pointed out last time, Joseph Ratzinger was hanging the whole Roman Catholic ball of wax on the point that “The idea of a ‘New Testament’ as ‘Scripture’ is still quite inconceivable at this point—even when “office”, as the form of the paradosis (tradition), is already clearly taking shape”.

So then, then it makes sense to define and clarify our terms.

But I don’t want to give just a dictionary definition. I want to explore what really was meant by the term “apostle”. In later blog posts, Lord willing, I’ll look at terms like “authority” and “succession” and “tradition”. The word “apostolic” can serve as a modifier for those, but there are other modifiers, too, for those words.

Here is one definition of “apostle”, from the Lutheran writer Hans von Campenhausen, in his Ratzinger-approved work, Ecclesiastical Authority and Spiritual Power in the Church of the First Three Centuries, trans. J. A. Baker (London: Black, 1969, Hendrickson Edition, Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, Inc. pgs 22-23).

In what then did the distinctive character and activity of an apostle consist? In every case the apostles are missionaries, and to that extent, the popular conception of apostolate and of ‘apostolic ministry’ is entirely correct. Preaching is of the essence of the apostolate; no apostles are known to us who are not at the same time missionaries. But the modern concept of a missionary is not wide enough to characterize fully the status and weight of apostolic authority. For the apostles are quite plainly vested with the direct power and dignity of their Lord himself. The very word ‘apostle’ is nothing other than a literal translation of a Jewish legal term with a definite meaning, namely shaliach, which denotes the person of a plenipotentiary representative, whose task it is to conduct business independently and responsibly for the one who has assigned him these powers for a particular service [emphasis added]. The apostles are thus the plenipotentiaries of their heavenly Lord; and their authority, therefore, does not derive from any human call or contingent developments…

I don’t believe any Roman Catholics would take issue with this at this point. The “calling” to be an apostle, von Campenhausen argues, is the result of “a call by the Risen Christ himself, who, we are told, appeared to Cephas, to the Twelve, to James, and also ‘to all the apostles’.

Apostles are “not simply preachers and teachers, but also founders of Christian communities, and as such know themselves, as Paul at least clearly indicates, to be permanently responsible for their congregations. As witnesses, messengers, and personal representatives of Christ the apostles are the principal and most eminent figures in the whole primitive Christian Church, and in Jerusalem and among the Gentile congregations alike theirs is the supreme authority” (22).

Is Paul Stuttering?

1 Cor 15:5-8: ... and that he appeared to Cephas, and then to the Twelve. After that, he appeared to more than five hundred of the brothers and sisters at the same time, most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles, and last of all he appeared to me also, as to one abnormally born …

What’s the difference between “the Twelve” and “all the apostles”?

… again and again the decisive factor is the encounter with the Risen Lord, which was frequently both experienced and understood as a special call or commission. The number of eye-witnesses who had seen the Risen Christ ran into hundreds; but the ‘apostolic’ men of the primitive community had not merely seen him, they had been constituted by him public witnesses to his resurrection and person. Ringed with the iron of their testimony, the Church’s faith in Christ could never be shattered. To this extent not only Peter and the Twelve, but also James and ‘all the apostles’, right through to Paul, the last apostle, are in fact part of the ‘gospel’. With their testimony, therefore, they are in truth earlier than the Church, which is based on that testimony, and must continually renew its relationship (23).

Again, in that last paragraph, the apostles, with their testimony, are earlier than “the Church”, and “the Church” must continually renew its relationship with “the testimony of the apostles”.

They are, indeed, the inaugurators and foundation stones of the Church, despite the fact that their importance, their position, and their personal quality vary considerably in other respects, and that not even their number can be established with certainty.

Directly implicit in this once-for-all character of their function is the fact that the rank and authority of the apostolate are restricted to the first ‘apostolic’ generation, and can be neither continued nor renewed once this has come to an end (23).

I don’t think that Roman Catholics would contest this, either.

The Resurrection is a unique event set in historical time, the certainty of which is not (as might be quite conceivable in the abstract) confirmed and kept alive by constantly repeated manifestations of Christ. Instead, once experienced and attested, it has simply to be handed on, ‘safeguarded’ and ‘believed’. It is true that the temptation to extend the apostolate beyond the apostolic generation was not entirely avoided; here and there attempts were made to turn the title of ‘apostle’ into a kind of professional designation for missionaries and for ascetic men of the spirit. In the long run, however, all these attempts proved abortive. The holders of the ‘apostolic’ office of bishop, who ultimately secured the government of the Church, did not describe themselves as apostles; they are simply the successors, or at most the representatives, of the apostles, and as such they too remain bound by the original apostolic word and witness, which finds its definitive form in the New Testament canon. It was the latter which in a certain sense became the real heir of the apostles’ authority (23-24). 

Kruger vs Ratzinger

Setting the stage for the conflict

Before I move further with Michael Kruger’s work, Canon Revisited, I’d like to share the reason for the enthusiasm for this work. And it has to do with showing a contrast between the entire world and ethos of Protestantism, and the entire world and ethos of Roman Catholicism.

Regarding the latter, the following statement has been making its way around the Internet lately. It is more than a tacit admission that there are contradictions within the Roman Catholic system, and it discusses how Roman Catholics are required to deal with these contradictions. (Andy when I say “deal with”, I say it in the spirit with which Roman Catholics are literally commanded to accept these things fully and without question. They get to “receive with docility the teachings and directives that their pastors give them in different forms”. What follows is in the context of the teachings of the Vatican II council being “completely binding” on Roman Catholics, but the principle here applies much more broadly:

1. Whenever the Council teaches something about faith and morals, what it teaches is certainly true, either through the specific note of infallibility or from the religious submission of mind and will owed to the ordinary Magisterium.

2. If such a teaching on faith or morals appears to anyone to conflict with earlier teachings, the problem is not with the truth of the Council’s statement but with our understanding of the Church’s full teaching of which the Council’s statement is inescapably a part.

3. Proper method demands that an understanding of the matter in question be found that accepts the truth of all relevant statements. Later statements can be illuminated by earlier ones and earlier statements can be illuminated by later ones, until a more complete and precise understanding is formed.

4. Where the Council was not teaching on matters of faith and morals, such as where it was describing contemporary conditions or offering recommendations for renewal, its statements are to be received with respect and gratitude but are not necessarily flawless in either their factual accuracy or their prudential judgment.

5. It follows that any arguments which undermine this understanding, whether based upon the pastoral interests of the Council or any other factor, are specious.

(I am reminded of Loyola’s Thirteenth Rule: “To be right in everything, we ought always to hold that the white which I see, is black, if the Hierarchical Church so decides it…” In other words, Rule #1 is: “Rome is right, and you are wrong”. And Rule #2 is, “when in doubt, see Rule #1”).

These directives, it is noted in the First Things article where they are (among other places) found, carefully follow “the principals [sic] laid out by Pope Benedict in his address to the Curia about ‘the hermeneutic of reform, of renewal within continuity.’” The foundation of these ideas come from Pope John XXIII’s opening speech of the council:

                                                                                                                                                                  

Here I shall cite only John XXIII's well-known words, which unequivocally express this hermeneutic when he says that the Council wishes "to transmit the doctrine, pure and integral, without any attenuation or distortion". And he continues:  "Our duty is not only to guard this precious treasure, as if we were concerned only with antiquity, but to dedicate ourselves with an earnest will and without fear to that work which our era demands of us...". It is necessary that "adherence to all the teaching of the Church in its entirety and preciseness..." be presented in "faithful and perfect conformity to the authentic doctrine, which, however, should be studied and expounded through the methods of research and through the literary forms of modern thought. The substance of the ancient doctrine of the deposit of faith is one thing, and the way in which it is presented is another...", retaining the same meaning and message (The Documents of Vatican II, Walter M. Abbott, S.J., p. 715).

“Faith Alone”, Roman Catholic Style

Thus, Roman Catholics are bound to “receive with docility” the notion that “If … a teaching on faith or morals appears to anyone to conflict with earlier teachings, the problem is not with the truth of the [Church’s] statement but with our understanding of the Church’s full teaching ….”

This is almost the very definition of fideism: an “exclusive or basic reliance upon faith alone, accompanied by a consequent disparagement of reason and utilized especially in the pursuit of philosophical or religious truth”. At best, it is an example of the statement, “I don’t know what the explanation is, but the truth is definitely “out there”, somewhere. Now, some Roman Catholics will take issue that this is an example of “faith alone”, as Plantinga defined it. It is “faith alone in the [‘Roman Catholic Church’s full teaching’] alone”.

Pope and Theologian-in-Chief Joseph Ratzinger

For 20-odd years, he was the #2 man in the Vatican. Every Roman Catholic’s favorite theologian these days (those few Roman Catholics who are interested in theology) has to be Joseph Ratzinger. The “brilliant” young theologian Ratzinger was a peritus, or chief theological advisor to [the Liberal] Cardinal Josef Frings of Cologne, Germany. Avery Dulles summarized Ratzinger’s theological achievements at Vatican II:

Benedict XVI was present at all four sessions of the Second Vatican Council from 1962 to 1965. Whereas Karol Wojtyla took part as a bishop, the young Joseph Ratzinger did so as a theological expert. During and after the council he taught successively at the universities of Bonn (1959-1963), Münster (1963-1966), Tübingen (1966-1969), and Regensburg, until he was appointed Archbishop of Munich in 1977. In 1981 he became prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, a post he held until the death of John Paul II in April 2005.

In the post Vatican II period, “John Paul the Great” may have been pope, but the pope was a philosopher, and Joseph Ratzinger was “the pope’s theologian”. When John Paul II died, in the conclave that followed, no other figure on the horizon had the kind of notability and stature that Ratzinger had.

So, for any given statement on “apostolic succession”, whatever Ratzinger, pope-and-theologian-in-chief, provides the clearest shape of the Roman Catholic argument for authority via apostolic succession.

Why this question is so important in our day

As I’ve noted in the past, Ratzinger points this out in the clearest terms in his 1962 essay “Primacy, Episcopacy, and Successio Apostolica” in the work “God’s Word: Scripture-Tradition-Office  (San Francisco: Ignatius Press ©2008; Libreria Editrice Vaticana edition ©2005). He says “The concept of [apostolic] succession was clearly formulated, as von Campenhausen has impressively demonstrated, in the anti-Gnostic polemics of the second century; [and not, as some Roman Catholic writers assert, in the first century] its purpose was to contrast the true apostolic tradition of the Church with the pseudo-apostolic tradition of Gnosis” (pgs 22-23).

In that thread, one commenter noted Ratzinger’s objection to what von Campenhausen was saying.

If, however, von Campenhausen meant to say here that a later and thus secondary theology of succesio/traditio was preceded by a biblical theology, then this would have to be called an error (Ratzinger, 25).

This is precisely what von Campenhausen was saying. Von Campenhausen suggests precisely that “biblical theology” certainly preceded the concept of “apostolic succession” held by the later (second century) church.

Roman claims to authority, therefore, are dependent upon the fact that the New Testament canon came some time after this formulation of “apostolic succession”.

This is clarified as Ratzinger continues:

For the understanding of the New Testament [writings] as “scripture”, and thus any possible formulation of a New Testament biblical principle, is no earlier than the determination of the principle of succession/tradito, and moreover, it is, to an even greater extent than this latter, determined by Gnosticism through Marcion (Ratzinger, 25).

Look at what Ratzinger is saying: The impetus for the canon of the New Testament is “determined by Gnosticism through Marcion”. But just to be sure everyone gets this idea, Ratzinger drives his point home:

We should not deceive ourselves: the existence of New Testament writings, recognized as being “apostolic”, does not yet imply the existence of a “New Testament” as “Scripture”—there is a long way from the writings to Scripture. It is well known, and should not be overlooked, that the New Testament does not anywhere understand itself as “Scripture”; “Scripture” is, for the New Testament, simply the Old Testament, while the message about Christ is precisely “spirit”, which teaches us how to understand Scripture.” The idea of a “New Testament” as “Scripture” is still quite inconceivable at this point—even when “office”, as the form of the paradosis, is already clearly taking shape” (Ratzinger ,25).

This is where the rubber meets the road. This is Rome’s strongest and most desperate argument for its own authority. Ratzinger dredges up the old “the Church precedes the Scripture” canard. The reason they hold so strongly to this point is because their entire claim to authority is based on this one falsehood. If the New Testament message has greater authority than “the Church”, then all of Rome’s claims to authority may rightly be flushed down the toilet.

                        

[Given that the papacy was a development that began in the third century and saw its full flowering only in the fifth century, the Roman Catholic Church needs something upon which to hang a line between Peter, who, without question, was a great Apostle, and the fifth century. It needs the concept of “Apostolic Succession”, however nebulous that may be, to bridge that gap.]

Here is Ratzinger pressing home his case:

This open situation of the existence of recognized New Testament writings without the existence of any New Testament principle of Scripture or any clear notion of the canon lasted until well in the second century—right into the middle of the period of the conflict with Gnosticism. Before the idea of a “canon” of New Testament Scripture had been formulated, the Church had already developed a different concept of what was canonical; she had as her Scripture the Old Testament but this Scripture needed a canon of New Testament interpretation, which the Church saw as existing in the traditio guaranteed by the succession (Ratzinger, 25-26).

Rome thus hangs its hat upon the lateness of the canon of the New Testament. If the Roman Catholic version of the lateness of the New Testament can be shown to have some dependence on “tradition”, then somehow, Rome’s version of its own claim to authority might ring true. On the other hand, if the writings of the New Testament had authority to shape orthodox belief (as Kruger argues), then the Reformation is precisely correct in its “throwing off” of Roman authority in favor of a Scriptural-based rule of faith.

It’s not hard to see where this is going. Lord willing, I’ll pick up more of this next time. 

Which came first, the “apostolic succession” or the New Testament?

The second of Michael Kruger’s three “criteria for canonicity” is “Apostolic origins” of the New Testament canon. With his use of the term “Apostolic Origins” as a criterion for canon, Dr Kruger recognizes that the Apostles played a unique role not only in the development of the canon but in the foundation of the church.

The message of redemption in Jesus Christ was entrusted to the apostles of Christ, to whom he gave his full authority and power: “The one who hears you hears me, and the one who rejects you rejects me” (Luke 10:16, pg 109).

                                                                                            

Roman Catholics are accustomed to hearing this verse in conjunction with the notion of “apostolic succession”, the notion that the Apostles somehow passed on this authority to “the Church”, and that this “succession” of apostolic “authority” was “handed on” in full measure not only from Christ to the Apostles (which it was), but from the Apostles to the church that came after them.

And while the concept of “apostolic succession” really has nothing to do with the growth and acceptance of the New Testament canon, it’s important to place this into the context of the overall discussion about the New Testament canon.

The question often is asked, (as Trosclair places it in this comment):

the same men who saw the need to ‘fix’ the Biblical canon also saw the need to ‘fix’ the lists of those who were successors to the Apostles. As a matter of fact, the Apostolic sees were more important for Irenaeus, Tertullian, Cyprian, etc. for the purpose of combating the Gnostic sects than was the Biblical canon. This contradicts Cullmann’s thesis. The Church fathers make it clear that the Scriptures could be twisted but the Apostolic sees had the sure ‘charism of truth’ which would preserve orthodoxy.

The short answer is that the “canonical core” of Apostolic writings was in place long before Irenaeus (c. 180), Tertullian (c. 200), and Cyprian (c. 250) ever commented about “lists”. Prior to the time these men wrote, both the Old Testament and the “canonical core” (of the collected works of Paul and the four gospels) of the New Testament were actually were the source of orthodoxy and the precursor of the “rule of faith” (see Canon Revisited, pgs 133-141). I’ll discuss the specifics of this as I move forward through the book.

Suffice it to say that Cullmann’s thesis (“Scripture and Tradition,” reprinted in “The Early Church,” London: SCM Press LTD © 1956, reprinted ©2011) does account for this fact, in a way that Trosclair may not have seen in the short selections I’ve posted from Cullmann’s writings. The writings of the New Testament came first, (in the form of the “canonical core”, to be sure), and the “Apostolic sees” came later. Someone may protest that “the canonical core” wasn’t quite complete, but it was authoritative nonetheless.

Here is how Cullmann described the apparent unreliability of “oral tradition” in maintaining “the apostolic witness”, which was regarded to be unique and unrepeatable, in comparison with later “ecclesiastical” traditions, which were certainly not binding on the universal church (especially not the church of the Reformation or the church in our time):

For a long time it has been noted that, apart from the letters of Ignatius, the writings of the so-called Apostolic Fathers, who do not really belong to the Apostolic age but to the beginning of the second century—[1 Clement, Barnabas, the Shepherd of Hermas]—despite their theological interest, are at  a considerable distance from New Testament thought, and to a considerable extent relapse into a moralism which ignores the notion of grace, and of the redemptive death of Christ, so central to apostolic theology. [See Torrance’s “The Doctrine of Grace in the Apostolic Fathers,” 1948].

It has also been noted that the Church Fathers who wrote after 150—Irenaeus and Tertullian—although chronologically more remote from the New Testament than the authors of the first half of the century, understood infinitely better the essence of the gospel. This seems paradoxical, but is explained perfectly by that most important act, the codification of the apostolic tradition in a canon [a “canonical core”], henceforward the superior norm of all tradition.

The Fathers of the first half of the century wrote at a period when the writings of the New Testament already existed, but without being vested with canonical authority, and so set apart. Therefore they did not have any norm at their disposal, and, on the other hand, and on the other hand, they were already too far distant from the apostolic age to be able to draw directly on the testimony of eye-witnesses. The encounters of Polycarp and Papias with apostolic persons could no longer guarantee a pure transmission of authentic traditions, as is proved by the extant fragments of their writings.

But after 150 contact with the apostolic age was re-established through the construction of the canon, which discarded all impure and deformed sources of information. Thus it is confirmed that, by subordinating all subsequent tradition to the canon, the Church once and for all saved its apostolic basis. It enabled its members to hear, thanks to this [“canonical core”], continually afresh and throughout all the centuries to come the authentic word of the apostles, a privilege which no oral tradition, passing through Polycarp or Papias, could have assured them (96).

The writings of Irenaeus (c. 180), Tertullian (c. 200), and Cyprian (c. 250), came much later than this “canonical core” of Paul’s writings and the Gospels. Cullmann goes on to note that, of course “scripture needs to be interpreted” and “the church ought to feel responsible for this interpretation” (97).

However, if the notion of “apostolic sees” was helpful in combating the Gnostic heresies of the day, it must be recognized that this was a still-later development (late second century), and the church at large ought in no way to be bound by what really was an “interpretive hermeneutic” of the second century.  It was by no means a “structural component” of “the Church that Christ founded”. An apologetic tactic that worked in the context of Gnostic heresies by no means subjects the later church to that hermeneutic and tactic.

And comments by late second and third-century writers ought by no means to provide the basis for a governmental structure that clearly became not merely open to abuse, but which itself became a form of abuse, and desperately needed to be changed.

This is precisely where the heart of the conflict between Rome and the Reformation lies. Once the notion of “apostolic succession” is put into perspective as a mechanism for addressing heresies (and not a mechanism by which the “authority” of the apostles was “handed down” to later popes and bishops), it clears the way for us to understand that the Reformers rightly cast off Roman authority when they did.

The Reformation holds that the role and “office” of Apostle was unique and unrepeatable. Rome holds, too, to some form of lip service that the “office” was unrepeatable, but somehow, the authority made its way to “bishops” (and from Peter to “the successor of Peter”), as somehow “structural” to the church – an “ontological reality” of the church. “Bishops must be in charge”, and not only are they “in charge”, but they somehow have interpretive mastery over the texts of Scripture.

Cullmann goes on to say that, in its acceptance of core canonical works of the New Testament as normative (based on the apostolic testimony therein), it is tacitly making the agreement that it “does not impose on future generations to take as a starting-point and as a norm of their interpretation of the same text the decision that it feels bound to take, but it remains conscious of the superiority of the scripture as the immediate testimony of the divine revelation to the interpretation which it feels compelled to give, and which can only be a derivative testimony…” (97).

So, the concept of “apostolic succession” within the “apostolic sees” did not, for the church of this period, constitute a “structural element” of the church, in the same way that the “apostolic testimony” (or “apostolic tradition”) was normative and foundational for the church. 

Canon Revisited: A Bit of Housekeeping

I’ve been working through Dr Michael Kruger’s Canon Revisited, (Michael J. Kruger, “Canon Revisited: Establishing the Origins and Authority of the New Testament Books”, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books © 2012). My intention is to have something like a chapter-by-chapter summary that can easily be referred to. This is information where, it is true, Protestants generally are weak. Let’s be like John the Baptist: “Make his paths straight”.

My greater hope, though, is that you’ll buy the book, read it, and internalize it.

Just to keep track of things, here are links to previous posts taken from the work:

Attention Roman Catholics: “Sola Scriptura” is in the Bible

The Canon of the New Testament as Self-Authenticating

Michael Kruger’s Criteria for Canonicity

Canon Revisited: Potential Defeaters

The Divine Qualities of Scripture (1): The Unity and Harmony of Scripture

The Divine Qualities of Scripture (2): Redemptive History and Intertextuality

                                                                                                                               

There are four more chapters to discuss:

Apostolic Origins of the Canon

The Corporate Reception of the Canon: The Emergence of a Canonical Core

The Corporate Reception of the Canon: Manuscripts and Christian Book Production

The Corporate Reception of the Canon: Problem Books and Canonical Boundaries

These last four chapters are where the details are discussed, the “tumultuous history of the canon”.

My hope is to work through these carefully over the coming weeks; the details in these four chapters, as messy as they are, show the hand of God working in a mighty way to take control of his own Word, his own message.

None of this, I don’t think, is new. I’ve seen portions of what Dr Kruger writes here and there – in Oscar Cullmann, Herman Ridderbos, and Greg Bahnsen, among others. But what’s here is where all the details come together, in one place – history and doctrine and epistemology – to give Protestants a single focal point on the New Testament canon, a comprehensive response to the objection that Protestantism is somehow undermining itself in the acceptance of the New Testament canon.

Sola Scriptura is in the Bible.

Roman Catholic Canon Canard

Note too that (in my last post) Jaki has to rely on the time-worn canard that Roman Catholics are always pulling out of their hats, a perpetual excuse for not having to respond to the substance of Protestant arguments. Recall that Cullmann, complained that, upon publication of his work on Peter, that the typical Roman Catholic response was not to address the work directly, but rather he noted that “One argument especially is brought forward: scripture, a collection of books, is not sufficient to actualize for us the divine revelation granted to the apostles. (Oscar Cullmann, “The Early Church,” London: SCM Press LTD., pg 57

                                                                                                                                                 

But by erecting a chasm between the apostolic and the postapostolic church, it undercut the consistency of the times of all Christians, Catholic and Protestant, with the Church founded by Christ on the apostles. Among those ties is the New Testament itself as a document whose divinely inspired character can be assured only by a Church teaching in the name of Christ. (Jaki, “And On This Rock”, pg 40)

This is a tactic for which I have almost no patience any more, and quite a bit of disdain. In our day, Protestants may point to Kruger’s work “Canon Revisited”, as providing a most thorough response to this age-old accusation.

The Divine Qualities of Scripture (2): Redemptive History and Intertextuality

Continuing with Michael J. Kruger, Canon Revisited: Establishing the Origins and Authority of the New Testament Books, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books © 2012, on the subject of the Divine Qualities of Scripture:

“The issue for early Christians was not only whether the New Testament books agreed with the Old Testament books on any given doctrine (as important as that was), but whether the New Testament books actually completed the story begun by the Old Testament. As Wright notes, ‘The Jews of the period did not simply think of the biblical traditions atomistically, but were able to conceive of the story as a whole, and to be regularly looking for its proper conclusion.’ What made the New Testament books compelling was that the overall story of Israel, begun in the Old Testament, had reached its rightful conclusion in them…. As Wright observes … it is in the Jesus of the New Testament books that ‘Israel’s history has reached its climax’” (149).

Thus, the Christocentric nature of the New Testament books was another one of its “divine qualities”. “The WCF observes this very reality when it declares that the divinity of Scripture is evident by ‘the full discovery it makes of the only way of man’s salvation’ (1.5)”. Not only the New Testament books had this Christocentricity in its “core message”. The Old Testament as well (Luke 24:44) was also Christocentric.

Because the Old and New Testaments form one overall book, we would expect to see evidence of this not only in a unified story but also in a unified structure. Thus, part of the internal evidence for the authenticity of the New Testament canon is demonstrated through the way these twenty-seven books fit together as the structural completion of the thirty-nine books of the Old Testament (150).

1. Covenant Structure

Both  Old and New Testament documents reflect the overall structure of extrabiblical treaties in the ancient world” (150). Thus, the Gospels “parallel the historical narratives of the Pentateuch”, and there are “similarities between the Prophets and the Epistles” (151). “The parallels are particularly acute when the Gospels are compared to the book of Exodus. Each includes”:

1. the inauguration of the covenant through a core salvific event

2. a disproportionate amount of space devoted to the salvific event itself

3. a combination of both narrative and didactic portions

4. a focus on the life and death of the covenant mediator

5. a giving of the law/teachings of the covenant and/or covenant mediator.

“These connections are amplified by the impressive amount of Moses-Jesus typology throughout the Gospel accounts” (151). In a similar way, just as the prophets function as a commentary on the Torah, the New Testament letters function as a theological commentary on the Gospels.

2. Canonical Structure

There is a “threefold division” in the Hebrew Old Testament: The Law, the Prophets, and the Writings”, and there is a similar structure among the New Testament works. For example:

David Trobisch has demonstrated that the New Testament in the early church was divided into four clear subsections—Gospels, Praxapostolos (Acts and Catholic Epistles), Pauline Epistles, and Revelation—as can be seen from the uniform witness of the manuscript collections themselves” (155).

Thus, the manuscript evidence – of which Kruger is a leading scholar – how the books were actually structured together in the earliest manuscripts – shows very clear and unmistakable evidence of the emerging canon, about which books of the New Testament were understood to be part of the same units.

In addition, there is additional intertextuality in that the threefold nature of the Old Testament and the fourfold nature of the New combine to form seven sections. “Given the biblical usage of the number seven as representative of completeness or wholeness, a sevenfold canonical structure would speak to the overall unity of the biblical canon and provides further reason to think that the New Testament canon we possess is the proper conclusion to the original books of the Old Testament” (155).

Genesis and Revelation, similarly, form a set of parallel book-ends to this complete unity – beginning with a seven days of creation, governing man’s seven-day workweek, and concluding with the emphasis on the number seven in Revelation – seven sections, seven churches, seven angels, seven seals, seven trumpets, seven bowls, seven plagues, etc. “Thus, in effect, the first and last books of the canon form an inclusion of sevens” (155). Kruger discusses more of the similarities over the next several pages.

Finally, there is an incredible amount of intertextuality –“ cross-references among books” – and even in “contested” works such as Second Peter, which is thought to be an “outlier” in Canon discussions:

Second Peter 1:4 would naturally connect the reader to John 21:18 as Peter predicts his death.

Second Peter 1:16 would lead the reader to the accounts of the transfiguration in the Synoptic Gospels.

Second Peter 3:15-16 is an obvious reference to the letters of Paul.

And the extensive overlap between 2 Peter and Jude functions as a cross-reference between these two books.

“We could add further “intra-canonical” links—such as how the book of Acts functions as an introduction of sorts to the rest of the New Testament authors-but space prohibits us from going any further” (157).  

“Divine Qualities”: Conclusion

“Central to the self-authenticating model of [the New Testament] canon is the conviction that canonical books are recognized not only by their historical authenticity (apostolic origins) or their ecclesiastical acceptance (corporate reception), but fundamentally by the nature of their content (divine qualities). If these books are constituted by the work of the Holy Spirit, then Christians, who are filled with the Holy Spirit, should be able to recognize that fact” (158).

Again, for the critics, this is not to say that “the books God inspired would sort of ‘jump out at’ the attentive reader”. But in a very real way, because of these “divine qualities”, the New Testament canon may be said, in a very real way, to quietly speak for itself. 

The Divine Qualities of Scripture (1): The Unity and Harmony of Scripture

All Scripture is God-breathed (“θεόπνευστος”)

“If anyone ponders over the prophetic sayings … it is certain that in the very act of reading and diligently studying them his mind and feelings will be touched by a divine breath and he will recognize the words he is reading are not utterances of man but the language of God” (Origen, Princ., 4.1.6)

“… the heavenliness of the matter, the efficacy of the doctrine, the majesty of the style, the consent of all the parts, the scope of the whole (which is to give all glory to God), the full discovery it makes of the only way of man's salvation, the many other incomparable excellencies, and the entire perfection thereof, are arguments whereby it doth abundantly evidence itself to be the Word of God …” [WCF1.5].

The “beauty and excellency”, the “efficacy and power”, the “unity and harmony” of the Scriptures, in these qualities, the Scripture speaks, bearing “the very attributes of God himself” (Michael J. Kruger, Canon Revisited: Establishing the Origins and Authority of the New Testament Books, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books © 2012, pg 127). “When men encounter God, they are vividly aware of his beauty, majesty, and perfection and need no further ‘evidence’ that he is God (Pss. 27:4; 50:2; 96:6; Isa. 6:1-7; Rev 1:12-17; 4:3). In addition, Scripture itself is described over and over again throughout the Bible as bearing these very same attributes” (pg 127).

By contrast, Scott Hahn, a Roman Catholic apologist, for example, considers that “the Church” somehow gives the Scriptures their attribute of being Scripture:

“without reference to the meaning these texts possess in the [Roman Catholic] Church’s life and liturgy, the Scriptures become a kind of dead letter, an artifact from a long-extinct exotic culture. Biblical exegesis becomes an exercise in “antiquarianism” or “archaeology” or perhaps “necrophilia.” [quoting Joseph Ratzinger: [Feast of Faith: Approaches to a Theology of the Liturgy”, 1986] … The Church makes the very individual texts into a single book or ‘Bible.” Without the [Roman Catholic] Church we have only a jumble of unconnected texts [Hahn, “Covenant and Communion”, Grand Rapids, MI: Brazos Press ©2009, pg 35].

Kruger here draws on speech-act philosophy: “Speaking (and therefore divine speaking) can take three different forms: (1) locution (making coherent and meaningful sounds or, in the case of writing, letters); (2) illocution (what the words are actually doing; e.g., promising, warning, commanding, declaring, etc.); and (3) perlocution (the effects of these words on the listener; e.g., encouraging, challenging, persuading) (pg 119-120).

The very nature of their content, their “divine qualities” have a perlocutionary effect on the reader. Citing Hebrews 4:12, the Scriptures are “the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart”… “It changes, shapes, and transforms its reader or hearer. The canon [of the New Testament] is not so much to be judged as the thing that does the judging. When this attribute of the canon is appreciated, once again, we can see how the canon is not so much shaped by the community of faith, but a means of shaping the community of faith”.

Echoing this, Kruger cites Justin Martyr on the words of Christ” “For they possess a terrible power in themselves, and are sufficient to inspire those who turn from the path of rectitude with awe; while the sweetest rest is afforded those who make a diligent practice of them (Dialogue with Trypho, 8:2)

He cites the Apology of Aristides (C. 130) “the author invites the emperor to read ‘the Gospel’ because ‘you also if you read therein, may perceive the power which belongs to it’” 2.4 (Syriac).

He cites Irenaeus defending “the fourfold Gospel” on the grounds that these Gospels are always “breathing out immortality on every side, and vivifying men afresh” (Haer 3.11.8).

The Unity and Harmony of Scripture

Kruger affirms that in the Scriptures, “there is unity on a complex array of theological issues, such as the nature of God, the make-up of man, the nation of Israel, the purpose and structure of the church, the person and work of Christ, the message of forgiveness and redemption, the importance of holiness, the role and function of the sacraments, eschatology and the last days, and so on” (133-134). “Whenver we speak of a canonical book’s doctrinal unity with other divine revelation, that is just another way of saying that book is orthodox”.

Orthodoxy in Scripture manifests itself in several different ways. Traditionally, Protestants understand orthodoxy as exhibited through the test of a prophet (Deut. 18:20) or by examination (Acts 17:10), as the Bereans searched for themselves to verify that Paul’s inspired teaching is consistent with the inspired teaching of the Old Testament.

Kruger also works through two other perspectives on orthodoxy:

“First, from the perspective of the earliest Christians as they worked with an incomplete New Testament canon and sought to recognize (for the first time) the books that God had given”

“Second from our modern day as we work with a complete New Testament canon and ask whether there are sufficient grounds for thinking that these books are indeed from God” (134)

1. The earliest church working with an incomplete New Testament Canon

Critics such as Walter Bauer (“Orthodoxy and Heresy in Earliest Christianity”) argue that orthodoxy “could have not been a reliable guide in the development of the canon because there was no uniform standard for orthodoxy until the fourth century” (pg 135). Kruger instead, while acknowledging that Bauer “is certainly correct at a number of points” including that “early Christianity was quite a diverse affair, heresies emerged early,” and “this diversity certainly continued into the later centuries of Christianity, other aspects of Bauer’s thesis have been “challenged and roundly (some say decisively) critiqued”. “The sticking point for Bauer is whether there was a reliable standard by which a book’s orthodoxy could be measured in this earliest phase of Christianity”. Kruger argues that there were three sources:

a. The Old Testament. Citing Ben Witherington, “Gnosticism was a non-starter from the outset because it rejected the very book the earliest Christians recognized as authoritative—the Old Testament”. The Old Testament provided the earliest Christians with an initial (orthodox) doctrinal foundation).

b. “Core” New Testament books. Some works, such as the letters of Paul and the Synoptic gospels, as has been noted earlier, never were not regarded as Scripture, and thus a source of orthodoxy. “Thus, there appears to have been a collection of core New Testament writings that would have functioned as a norm for apostolic doctrine at quite an early point.

c. The “rule of faith”. While Kruger provides, elsewhere, a more detailed discussion of apostolic tradition in the earliest church, he notes here that “the rule of faith worked to bring harmony precisely because there was harmony already there” (within the OT, core NT works, and the understanding of redemptive history that the early church already had) “that could be summarized and expressed. It was this conviction about the internal qualities of Scripture that helped guide the church fathers in their reception of the canon.

2. Orthodoxy and a Complete New Testament Canon

“We must remember that the question about how we recognize the canon is not just a historical one (how it happened in the early church) but an epistemological one (whether the Christian religion [today] has sufficient grounds for thinking that these twenty-seven books are given by God as canonical)” (141-142). “When we answer the latter question, we can do so by considering the New Testament canon as a completed whole”.

Remember, we are now working in the context of considering the “divine qualities” of the 27-book New Testament canon. And of course, “the theological unity of the New Testament books has not gone unchallenged. Whereas Walter Bauer challenged the existence of orthodoxy in the early church, F.C. Baur has challenged the existence of orthodoxy across the spectrum of the completed New Testament canon”. Baur, in the 19^th century, argued that each New Testament book was produced and motivated by separate particular theological agendas, some of which were in conflict. This type of objection, Kruger notes, constitutes a second potential defeater to the divine qualities of Scripture, “and certainly cannot be dismissed lightly” (143).

Again, though, while acknowledging some diversity within the New Testament, “it must not be assumed (though it often is) that differences necessarily entail genuine contradiction”. He discusses apparent differences between Paul and James, as well as many of their agreements (such as the unity of the Gospel Message, Acts 15, and Paul’s “ongoing care and affection” for the church at Jerusalem, and the fact that “there is no real disagreement” between Paul and James on Paul’s understanding of justification [145]).

Kruger also notes a key contradiction within the argument of the Bauer/Baur camp: “If the ‘winners’ [of the “orthdodoxy” battles of the early church] determined the canon, then why would they pick books from various and contradictory theological camps? One cannot argue that the canon is the ‘invention’ of the proto-orthodox designed to suppress the opposition [as Bauer claimed], and then turn around and argue that the canon is a cacophony of diverse theological viewpoints that stand in opposition” (146).

Thus, “Should Christians abandon their commitment to the canon’s authority because biblical critics, who view scriptural interpretations as merely a human enterprise, claim to have discovered theological incongruities? No” (147).