What Kind of a Book is the Bible? . . .

THE MAKING OF THE NEW TESTAMENT

The scriptures of the New Covenant were not determined by some church council centuries after the apostolic age, as some presume. It was not a matter of ecclesiastics taking a vote to see which writings would make it and which would not. It is not the case that our present collection would have been substantially different if some of the doubtful books had pulled a few more votes or if some that are included had received a few less. It is not that kind of story at all.

Nor is it a matter of a sudden and deliberate move on anybody’s part, not even the apostles. The scriptures emerged gradually and almost accidentally, out of the contingencies of the times, more by circumstance than by intention. No one would have been more surprised than Paul or Luke to be told that they were writing a book for countless generations. Had someone suggested to Paul that the church should have some scriptures and so he should hurry up with his writing, he might well have responded: “What do you mean? The church already has its scriptures. I’m writing so as to help the saints with some of their problems.” The earliest believers looked to the Old Testament as their scriptures, and it probably never entered their minds that they needed anything else, not for several decades, at least.

What eventually came to be “scriptures” has an obvious ring of authenticity as simply letters and personal correspondence. Luke wanted his noble friend, “the most excellent Theophilus,” to know something of the story that he loved. Not quite satisfied with the documents then extant, he wrote his own, all for his friend’s sake, and followed that with still another, giving us, unbeknown to him, Luke-Acts. Paul wrote 1 Corinthians in answer to one he had received —and because Chloe’s people liked to gossip! He wrote to the Thessalonians because of news brought to him by Timothy, and he wrote Philemon because of a runaway slave he chanced upon. Revelation was hardly penned with future generations in mind, for it is couched in symbols understandable to the persecuted saints under the yoke of Rome.

In reading here and there, especially each of the letters on their own, one is not impressed that he is reading a book. Paul tells the Colossians that “Tychicus will tell you all about my affairs” —which doesn’t give us much information! And he tells them that they already have instructions on what to do with Mark when he arrives, which only makes a modern reader curious. He closes with instructions similar to those of a mother writing to her children, asking that they pass her letters along to one another: “When this letter has been read among you, have it read also in the church of the Laodiceans; and see that you read also the letter from Laodicea.” In other letters he urges Timothy to come to him before winter, for death was near, and he urged him to pick up the books and especially the parchments as he came through Troas. Paul had left them at Carpus’ house. If Timothy was still having trouble with his stomach, he might try wine!

This is down home stuff. They weren’t writing a Bible or any other kind of book, certainly nothing resembling a legal document that is to be handled with lawyers’ tools.

That the scriptures were circumstantial in history does not mean, of course, that they were not intentional in the mind of God. He knew the ultimate purpose of it all, even if they did not; and He used them to bless us with what we now call the Bible. But it helps us in understanding it to realize that it emerged in the particular climate and circumstance of first century Palestine, and that it is to be interpreted very much the same as any other literature produced under similar conditions.

We may suppose that a leading church, such as Rome or Antioch, in 50 A.D. would first of all have the Old Testament as its “Bible,” though they wouldn’t call it that. They would also have several of Paul’s letters, for these were copied and recopied, circulating from church to church. In time these were gathered as a collection and came to be known as scripture, taking their place alongside the writings of the prophets. This is because Paul was an apostle and his word was authoritative. Here we have the germ of a canon, for 2 Pet. 3:15 says: “Our most dear brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, has written to you: as also in all his epistles, speaking in them of these things; in which are certain things hard to be understood, which the unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other scriptures, to their own destruction.” By the time 2 Peter was written there was a collection of Paul’s letters and they were associated with “the other scriptures,” meaning the Old Testament.

As early as 96 A.D. Clement writes to the Corinthians, “Take into your hands the epistle of the blessed Paul the Apostle. What did he write to you when the gospel was first preached? Truly, under divine inspiration he wrote to you concerning himself, and Cephas, and Apollo, because even then you had formed parties among yourselves.” Another apostolic father, Ignatius, in writing to the Ephesian’s, refers to “every epistle” that Paul wrote. Not only does this point to a collection by then circulating, but these men elevate the apostle’s writing above their own.

As the number of living witnesses dwindled and the number of congregations increased, it became more and more important that records be kept of the life of Jesus and the story of the primitive community. So, in the generation following Paul’s epistles, biographical materials began to be composed about the Christ, and those written by an apostle or an associate of an apostle were given a unique place. These, like the earlier epistles, began to be copied and recopied, circulating among all the churches far and wide. These scrolls by Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were added to the church’s library of inspired writings, not because anybody said so, but because they were the testimonials of man believed to have special authority.

These became all the more precious when the apostles had all died, and we are to understand that literally thousands of copies, in part or in whole, were made of their writings. Many scribes or copyists spent their lives cranking out manuscripts, most of which have long since been lost. Some scribes would take liberties they shouldn’t have taken, making corrections and additions they thought appropriate, but for the most part they were very careful indeed. But they did make errors, and these errors were passed along as more copies were made, which accounts for a lot of the variant readings we have in modern translations.

The oldest and most reliable manuscripts go back only to the fifth century, the autographs (original writings) have long since disappeared. But that is better than it sounds. A manuscript like Codex Sinaiticus, which is probably the best of all, is highly trustworthy even if it was made over 400 years after the events. This is because it is in a lineage of transcription that has proved reliable, and because it compares favorably with other old manuscripts, ancient versions, and the testimony of the apostolic fathers. All this is now part of what is called textual criticism, which is a highly specialized science. For a passage to “make it” as authentic it must pass a very rigid test drawn from a mountain of textual material.

For example, the eunuch’s confession in Acts 8:37 appears in many, many manuscripts, referred to as “Western,” but these are later and not as reliable. Somewhere along the line some copyist, perhaps because of a true tradition, added the confession to his copy, convinced as he was that it was appropriate. It passed on to many other manuscripts, for copyists would copy his emendation, supposing it to be authentic. But the oldest and best manuscripts, including Codex Sinaiticus, do not have it, proving almost positively that it does not belong in the text, and so in most modern versions it is not included in Acts 8 or it is relegated to a footnote. It is not a case of some modernist “trying to do away with our Bible,” but the science of textual criticism at work, which assures us of the most accurate text possible.

While oral tradition about Jesus and his teaching was at first the most authoritative, gradually the four gospel writers emerge as of equal importance to the tradition. Their writings are referred to very early in history, which gives evidence to their acceptance. Papias (130 A.D.) sees Mark as an associate of Peter and as his interpreter. He also refers to Matthew’s gospel. Justin Martyr (killed about 165 A.D.) writes of how “the memoirs of the apostles” were read in the assembly “on the day of the sun,” along with the prophets, showing that the four gospels had long been accepted by that time. By 170 A.D. the church had a “fourfold gospel” drawn up, called the Diatessaron, the work of Tatian.

1 Peter and 1 John were accepted early in the church’s history, for they were viewed as the work of apostles. The historian Eusebius (325 A.D.) indicates that these two epistles were known as “catholic” and had been quoted from as far back as Papias, Irenaeus, Polycarp, Clement of Alexandria, and even the Gnostic writers referred to one or both of these books.

The rest of the New Testament was slower in gaining general acceptance, for they were either anonymous (Hebrews) or highly symbolic (Revelation) or of either questionable authorship or doubtful value (2 and 3 John, James, 2 Peter, Jude). Some churches came to accept these before others did, but they were at last accepted, certainly by the third century. No council decided this. They simply gained a place as “scripture” by their own internal evidence, by being what they were. Their true character was not as readily evident as with the others, so it took more time.

There were several other writings by the apostolic fathers (generation following the apostles) that received high acclaim by the church, especially Clement of Rome’s letter to the Corinthians, the epistle of Barnabas, the epistles of Ignatius, and the shepherd of Hermas. For a time they were a part of the church’s sacred library, but, lacking the apostolic imprint of the other writings, they gradually moved to a secondary role —still highly regarded, but not on the level with the scriptures, and so were not read in the assemblies. It is noteworthy, however, both the Shepherd of Hermas and Barnabas are included in Codex Sinaiticus! That shows that they were very slow in losing their ranking as primary scripture. And perhaps it suggests that we would do well to be acquainted with such writings. Hermas will remind you of Revelation, while Barnabas deals with the question as to whether Gentile believers are obligated to keep the works of the law. These two books, though highly esteemed, finally lost out as ranking with scripture.

But by “losing out” we are not suggesting that some group of men did not vote for them, but because of their internal character and authorship they could not remain in the same company with apostolic writings. This was by the general consensus of the churches that had access to all this literature.

The time soon came when various ones could speak of these writings as a fixed collection or as a canon. Eusebius, the early historian we have quoted, made out his own list, accepting everything in our present canon except James, Jude, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John, which he lists as disputed. Barnabas and Hermas he rejects as not genuine. The oldest list of all is called the Muratorian canon, based upon a fragment of Muratori (200 A.D.). He lists the same ones as in Eusebius, except for two of John’s epistles instead of one. And he includes Hermas.

It was not until a bishop by the name of Athanasius wrote his Easter letter in 367 A.D., in which he made reference to all the New Testament writings, that we have a list precisely like the collection that we now have. But it should be realized that the bulk of the NT, yea the very heart of it, was accepted from the very outset for what it was, apostolic.

And that was the basis of judgment, apostolicity. It was not so much inspiration. Certainly what the apostles wrote was considered “inspired,” but so were other writings. The Shepherd of Hermas was finally rejected, not because it was not “inspired,” but because it was not apostolic. The early church sported no theory of inspiration. It was not the point anyway. It was not a question as to whether the Spirit might move in a man, but as to whether he was an apostle of Jesus Christ, or a close associate.

While the Jews did come up with a doctrine of inspiration when they assembled their scriptures in the first century A.D., the early church did not. They rather believed that the Spirit dwells in every believer, and so “inspiration” may be rather extensive. So, in making up the New Covenant scriptures, they merely recognized what had always been accepted: that certain writings were apostolic and therefore authoritative, and none others. But they did not claim that only the apostles produced “inspired” writings. Inspiration was not good enough!

This question of inspiration will be the subject of our next. —the Editor