How and when was the canon of Scripture established, and by whom?

This article is by Michael J. Kruger, entitled “The Book of Revelation: How Difficult Was Its Journey into the Canon?” (original source – https://www.michaeljkruger.com/the-book-of-revelation-how-difficult-was-its-journey-into-the-canon/)

The story of the New Testament canon is a fascinating one, with many twists and turns.  There are books that were accepted very quickly, almost from the start (e.g., the four gospels), and there are other books that struggled to find a home (e.g., 2 Peter).

And then there is the book of Revelation. 

Few today would contest the claim that the book of Revelation stands as one of the most controversial, complicated, and esoteric books in the New Testament canon.  Perhaps it should come as no surprise, then, that its reception by the early church was equally complicated and controversial.

But, the story of the book of Revelation is not what one might expect. Other debated books tended to have a lukewarm reception at the earliest stages, only to gain more and more acceptance over time. Revelation, on the other hand, had nearly the opposite experience; it had a very early and positive reception in many parts of the church, only to run into serious challenges at a later point.

Lately, I have been doing a good bit of research on Revelation’s canonical history in preparation for writing an academic piece on the subject.  Here are a few highlights about Revelation’s journey:

1. Revelation’s early reception was Outstanding.  Perhaps as much as any other NT book, we have evidence for an early, widespread, and consistent reception of Revelation.  Our evidence goes back as early as Papias (c.125) and also includes Justin Martyr, Irenaeus, the Muratorian Fragment, Hippolytus, Clement of Alexandria, Tertullian, and Origen.  That is an impressive list.

In addition, it is worth noting that almost every one of these church fathers accepted the book of Revelation on the same grounds, namely the belief that the apostle John, the son of Zebedee was the author.

B.W. Bacon was so impressed with Revelation’s initial reception that he was able to say, “There is no book in the entire New Testament whose external attestation can compare with that of Revelation, in nearness, clearness, definiteness, and positiveness of statement” (The Making of the New Testament, 190).

2. Objections to Revelation were later and limited.  Our first evidence of any real objection to the book of Revelation comes from the person of Gaius in the early third century who rejects the book on the grounds that it was a forgery of the heretic Cerinthus.  Curiously, this is really the only specific objection were hear about from someone who rejected the book (most scholars agree that the so-called “Alogoi” mentioned later by Epiphanius is not a real group).

Dionysius of Alexandria, in the late third century, makes the argument that Revelation was written by another John besides the apostle. Eusebius appears to agree with him. But, it is worth noting that Dionysius does not reject the book on these grounds (despite the impression many give that he did), but still regards it as holy and inspired.

3. Objections to Revelation were Not Driven by Historical Matters.  As we noted above, the main (and to some extent, the only) person who offered specific objections to Revelation in the early church was Gaius who believed it was a forgery of Cerinthus. But, what led him to this conclusion?  It was not the historical merits of the book, but rather Gaius’ objection to chiliasm (the belief in a literal millennial reign of Christ).

Gaius opposed the chilastic teachings in the church, particularly the chiliasm he attributed to Cerinthus.  There is little doubt that the reference to a millennium in Revelation 20 led Gaius to erroneously presume that Revelation was a product of Cerinthus’ pen.

4. Objections to Revelation Were Eventually Resolved.  Even though Gaius is pretty much alone in his specific objections to Revelation, apparently it did have a negative affect in some quarters of the church.  Particularly in the East, there was a resurgence of doubt about the book in the fourth century and later.

However, there were also many who supported the book. It was affirmed by the synods of Hippo (c.393) and Carthage (c.397).  It was also received by Philastrius of Brescia (c.385), Rufinus of Aquileia (c.404), Jerome (c.414), and Augustine (c.426).  And the reason why these groups accepted the book was simple: it was an ancient book quoted by the early church fathers as authoritative. And for this reason, eventually their view prevailed.

In the end, the problematic canonical journey of Revelation reminds us that the development of the NT canon was not always a smooth, pristine affair.  However, it also remains that in the case of Revelation, the problems had little do with the historical merits of the book itself, but rather with the particular theological peccadillos of some in the early church.  When the actual history of the book is understood, its canonical status stands in little doubt.

Article by Dr. Michael Kruger “How the 2020 Presidential Election Helps Us Understand the Formation of the New Testament Canon” – original source: https://www.michaeljkruger.com/how-the-2020-presidential-election-helps-us-understand-the-formation-of-the-new-testament-canon/

OK, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that there may not be two more unrelated topics than the 2020 presidential election and the formation of the NT canon. Of all the things that we can learn from the trials and tribulations of this election cycle (and there are many), surely how the New Testament was formed is not one of them!

So, how in the world do these two things connect?

In brief, I think the presidential election cycle is a remarkably helpful analogy for understanding the different definitions of canon, and how those definitions help us understand the date of the canon. Let me try to explain.

When Do We Have a Canon?

Let’s begin with one of the most hotly debated questions in the study of the New Testament canon: What is the date of the New Testament canon? Or, when do we first see it come into existence?

While that may seem like a fairly straightforward question, the massive disagreements among modern scholars shows that it is not. It all depends on the definition of canon that you are using. In order to clear this up, I have argued elsewhere (see here) that there are really three different definitions of canon:

1. Exclusive definition:  We have a “canon” when there is a formal, broad consensus over a  final, closed list of books. On that definition, we don’t have a canon until about the fourth century.

2. Functional definition: We have a “canon” when New Testament books are functioning as Scripture, and being used as Scripture, even though there are ongoing debates about certain books. On that definition, we would certainly have a canon by the second century.

3. Ontological definition:  We have a “canon” when God has finished giving all the books to his church that he intended to give.  This definition looks at canon from a divine perspective, if you will. On that definition, we would have a canon when the final book of the New Testament was written, which would be in the first century. Of course, the church would not yet be aware of which books are in the canon—that would only be known at a later point as the church evaluates and examines books. Nevertheless, a canon really existed in the first century whether the church knew it or not.

When Do We Have a President?

So, turning to the recent election, let’s ask a similar question: What is the date when we have a new president? Or, when does a person become the president?

Well, again, it all depends on the way you are defining your terms. And here was see an impressive analogy with the three definitions of canon used above. If we were to apply those definitions to the presidency, it might look something like this:

1. Exclusive definition: We have a president when he is officially installed. And it’s official because the states have certified the election and the electoral college has voted. On that definition, we don’t have a new president until Jan 20th.

2. Functional definition: We have a president when people recognize him as the new president, treat him as the president, and he begins (at least in some ways) to function like the president. On that definition, we have a new president (functionally) when someone is regarded as the president-elect. This usually happens within a week after the election and is largely due to the perception that this individual has won, even though it has not been formalized.

3. Ontological definition: We have a new president the moment the last vote is cast and the polls are closed.  Even though we didn’t know it at the time, a president had already been chosen on Nov 3rd.  Even though it would take a week (or more!) to discover who that was, it was factually and objectively decided on election day itself.

How Does This Help?

So, why is it important that we understand these different definitions?  Because they help us navigate the inevitable conflict and disagreement over such matters. If there is disagreement over when we have a canon (and there is!), we might discover we have more common ground than we think. It may just be that we are emphasizing different truths.

For example, some may want to emphasize that there was not absolute unity over a 27-book canon in the early church. It took time for that unity to be achieved.  For folks with such a concern, the exclusive definition of canon will be emphasized.

Others may want to emphasize that NT books were functioning like a canon from a very early time, despite the fact that a full consensus had not yet been achieved. For those with such a concern, the functional definition will likely be emphasized.

In a sense, then, they are both correct (given their respective definitions).  And they both would be wrong if they insisted their definition was the only way to look at it.

Likewise, conflict in a presidential election can perhaps be navigated more effectively if one keeps different definitions in mind.  For some, it is important to insist that we don’t really have a new president until the final, official certification and inaugural installation. This would be a particularly important point to make if there were concerns over voter fraud or election integrity.

For others, it is important to acknowledge that elections give us a new president, in some sense, long before inauguration day. And that new president typically functions, at least in part, like a president before he is sworn in (intelligence briefings, consultations with foreign leaders, etc.).

In sum, we don’t get a new president all at once. We get a new president in stages.

So, it is with the New Testament canon. We should not forget that the canon is a process, and therefore it should not be artificially restricted to a single moment in time. It is less like a dot, and more like a line.  If so, then maybe we should consider a shift in terminology. It might be time to move beyond the language of the “date” of canon, and focus more on the “stage” of canon.

Article: No, Nicaea Didn’t Create the Canon by John D. Meade (original source – https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/nicaea-canon/)

John D. Meade is associate professor of Old Testament and director of the Text & Canon Institute at Phoenix Seminary. He has edited the materials for A Critical Edition of the Hexaplaric Fragments of Job 22–42 (Peeters, 2020).

Ideas have consequences. One idea that has yielded dangerous consequences is the notion that the Council of Nicaea (AD 325), under the authority of Roman emperor Constantine, established the Christian biblical canon.

Did the Bible originate from a few elite bishops selecting which books to include? Should we credit a Roman emperor with creating the Bible? No. This falsehood has been used to cast suspicion on the origins of the canon, which undermines the Bible’s authority.

Dan Brown’s 2003 bestseller, The Da Vinci Code, planted this idea in our culture, and many now think Constantine or Nicaea established the Bible. But Brown didn’t invent this story. He only perpetuated it through his fiction. (Same goes for popular spy novelist Daniel Silva’s latest book, The Order. He admits in an author’s note: “Christians who believe in biblical inerrancy will no doubt take issue with my description of who the evangelists were and how their Gospels came to be written.”)

Nicaea and the Canon in History

There is no historical basis for the idea that Nicaea established the canon and created the Bible. The Biblical Canon Lists from Early Christianity and other early evidence show that Christians disputed the boundaries of the biblical canon before and after Nicaea. For example, even lists from pro-Nicaean fathers such as Cyril of Jerusalem (ca. AD 350) and Athanasius of Alexandria (ca. AD 367) don’t agree on the inclusion of Revelation. None of the early records from the council, nor eyewitness attendees (Eusebius or Athanasius, for example), mentions any conciliar decision that established the canon.

In the preface to his Latin translation of Judith, Jerome wrote:

But since the Nicene Council is considered (legitur lit. “is read”) to have counted this book among the number of sacred Scriptures, I have acquiesced to your request (or should I say demand!).

Could Jerome be referring to a formal decision to include Judith in the canon? That’s unlikely.

The earliest adopters of Nicene orthodoxy—from Athanasius to Gregory of Nazianzus to Hilary of Poitiers to Jerome himself—don’t include Judith in their canon lists. If a decision was made at Nicaea on the canonicity of Judith, the earliest adopters would’ve listed it among the canonical books. But they don’t. Rather, Jerome is probably describing discussions in which some fathers may have referred to Judith as scriptural. In any case, these discussions didn’t end in a formal conciliar decision on the canon’s boundaries. It seems Jerome’s statement, though, was later misunderstood to say that Nicaea decided on the canon, which leads us to the rest of the story.

Nicaea and the Canon in Legend

The source of this idea appears in a late-ninth-century Greek manuscript called the Synodicon Vetus, which purports to summarize the decisions of Greek councils up to that time (see pages 2–4 here). Andreas Darmasius brought this manuscript from Morea in the 16th century. John Pappus edited and published it in 1601 in Strasburg. Here’s the relevant section:

The council made manifest the canonical and apocryphal books in the following manner: placing them by the side of the divine table in the house of God, they prayed, entreating the Lord that the divinely inspired books might be found upon the table, and the spurious ones underneath; and it so happened.

According to this source, the church has its canon because of a miracle that occurred at Nicaea in which the Lord caused the canonical books to stay on the table and the apocryphal or spurious ones to be found underneath.

From Pappus’s edition of the Synodicon Vetus, this quotation circulated and was cited (sometimes as coming from Pappus himself, not the Greek manuscript he edited!), and eventually found its way into the work of prominent thinkers such as Voltaire (1694–1778). In volume 3 of his Philosophical Dictionary (English translation here) under “Councils” (sec. I), he writes:

It was by an expedient nearly similar, that the fathers of the same council distinguished the authentic from the apocryphal books of Scripture. Having placed them altogether upon the altar, the apocryphal books fell to the ground of themselves.

A little later in section III, Voltaire adds:

We have already said, that in the supplement to the Council of Nice it is related that the fathers, being much perplexed to find out which were the authentic and which the apocryphal books of the Old and the New Testament, laid them all upon an altar, and the books which they were to reject fell to the ground. What a pity that so fine an ordeal has been lost!

Voltaire earlier mentions that Constantine convened the council. At Nicaea, then, the fathers distinguished the canonical from the apocryphal books by prayer and a miracle. The publication of Pappus’s 1601 edition of Synodicon Vetus—and the subsequent citing of the miracle at Nicaea, especially by Voltaire in his Dictionary—appears to be the reason Dan Brown could narrate the events so colorfully and why many others continue to perpetuate this legend.

Matter of Authority

As our culture becomes increasingly secular, many will continue to cast doubt on the Bible’s origins and especially on early Christianity’s role in the canon’s formation. Although the history of the canon is a bit messy at junctures, there is no evidence it was established by a few Christian bishops and churches convened at Nicaea in 325.

Christians need to prepare their minds for action in this age and confidently assert that the biblical canon is the work of God, recognized by churches over many years’ time. In the vivid words of J. I. Packer, “The church no more gave us [the] canon than Sir Isaac Newton gave us the force of gravity.”

Further Reading:

• Ed Gallagher and John D. Meade, The Biblical Canon Lists from Early Christianity: Texts and Analysis (OUP, 2018).
• F. F. Bruce, The Canon of Scripture (IVP, 1988).
• Timothy Paul Jones, How We Got the Bible (Rose Publishing, 2015). Interview with Timothy Paul Jones.

Did the church invent the canon? What is the role of the canon? How is the Bible a creative force? Was the canon in place before church councils? What can we say biblically, theologically, and historically about the foundation and formation of the canon?

In this short video, Michael Kruger discusses the formation of the canon, the role of the canon, and the church’s relation to the canon.