The Question of Canon

Challenging the Status Quo in the New Testament Debate

Michael J. Kruger

• Publisher: IVP Academic
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9780830864973
• Topic: Teología y religión
• Subtopic: Estudios bíblicos

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Did the New Testament canon arise naturally from within the early Christian faith?

Were the books written as Scripture, or did they become Scripture by a decision of the second-century church?

Why did early Christians have a canon at all?

These are the types of questions that led Michael J. Kruger to pick apart modern scholarship's dominant view that the New Testament is a late creation of the church imposed on books originally written for another purpose. Calling into question this commonly held "extrinsic" view, Kruger here tackles the five most prevalent objections to the classic understanding of a quickly emerging, self-authenticating collection of authoritative scriptures.

Already a noted author on the subject of the New Testament canon, Kruger addresses foundational and paradigmatic assumptions of the extrinsic model as he provides powerful rebuttals and further support for the classic, "intrinsic" view. This framework recognizes the canon as the product of internal forces evolving out of the historical essence of Christianity, not a development retroactively imposed by the church upon books written hundreds of years before.

Unlike many books written on the emergence of the New Testament canon that ask "when?" or "how?" Kruger focuses this work on the "why?"—exposing weaknesses in the five major tenets of the extrinsic model as he goes. While The Question of Canon scrutinizes today's popular scholastic view, it also offers an alternative concept to lay a better empirical foundation for biblical canon studies.

1

The Definition of Canon

Must We Make a Sharp Distinction Between the Definitions of Canon and Scripture?

Once a distinction is made between scripture and canon, the idea of a New Testament canon does not appear applicable until the fourth century.

GEOFFREY M. HAHNEMAN
The Muratorian Fragment and the Development of the Canon

Brevard Childs once declared, “Much of the present confusion over the problem of canon turns on the failure to reach an agreement regarding the terminology.”1 Although Childs made this statement in 1979, it could just as easily been written in our current day. As scholars continue to probe into the origins and development of the biblical canon, debates and disagreements about canonical semantics have not abated.2 What exactly do we mean by the term canon?3 Does it refer to books that were widely used by early Christians? Does it refer to books that function as Scripture? Or does it refer only to books that are included in a final, closed list? While these discussions over the definition of canon will certainly continue, and no universal agreement appears to be forthcoming, something does seem to have changed since Childs’s original observation. The definition of canon as a final, closed list of books has begun to emerge as the more dominant one—at least in some circles. In particular, advocates of an “extrinsic” model of canon are typically committed to this particular definition and insistent that all scholars must adopt it, lest the entire field become plagued by confusion and anachronism.4

Such claims are difficult to resist—after all, no one wants to plunge canonical studies into disarray. Moreover, there is certainly something attractive about having a single, unified definition of canon on which we can all agree (and build upon). Nevertheless, we must ask whether this “consensus” position, and the attitude with which it is held, is justified. Does this single definition adequately capture the complexities and nuances of the concept of canon? And are we required to adopt only this definition to the exclusion of all others?

The Exclusive Definition of Canon

The definition of canon as a fixed, final and closed list of books—what might be called the exclusive definition5—was put forth originally by A. C. Sundberg in 1968.6 Sundberg drew a sharp distinction between the terms Scripture and canon and, on this basis, argued that we cannot speak of the idea of canon until at least the fourth century or later. Although Scripture would have existed prior to this time period, Sundberg argues that we must reserve the term canon until the end of the entire process. It would be anachronistic to use the term canon to speak of any second- or third-century historical realities. Thus, simply marshaling evidence of a book’s scriptural status in the early church—as is so often done in canonical studies—is not enough to consider it canonical. The book must be part of a list from which nothing can be added or taken away.

Sundberg’s exclusive definition of canon was initially supported by a number of key scholars such as D. H. Kelsey,7 James Barr8 and Harry Gamble,9 and, in more recent years, has continued to gather adherents. John Barton, while rightly recognizing that multiple definitions of canon have some validity,10 still seems to prefer the exclusive definition: “Much clarity could be gained if we agreed to distinguish sharply between these two concepts [of Scripture and canon].”11 Geoffrey Hahneman has been a vigorous advocate of the exclusive definition, declaring, “Once a distinction is made between scripture and canon, the idea of a New Testament canon does not appear applicable until the fourth century.”12 Lee McDonald has consistently promoted Sundberg’s definition in his many writings over the last twenty years and is no doubt one of the reasons for its recent popularity.13 Eugene Ulrich is quite forceful in his approach, arguing that unless scholars accept the exclusive definition, discussions will be “confusing and counterproductive.” 14 Likewise, the recent work of Craig Allert insists on the “necessity of proper distinction between the terms ‘Scripture’ and ‘canon.’”15 Even this brief survey of scholars (and more could be added16) suggests that David Nienhuis was correct when he observed that “Sundberg’s position has enjoyed widespread acceptance.”17

But is the widespread acceptance of this position justified? We begin our analysis by noting that there are many positives to this position that ought to be acknowledged. For one, the exclusive definition of canon rightly captures the reality of the canon’s “fluid” edges prior to the fourth century. It took some time for the boundaries of the canon to solidify, and the exclusive definition accommodates this historical fact by using different terms for different stages. Moreover, this definition helps remind us of the important role played by the church in the recognition and reception of the canon. By restricting the term canon to only the final stage when the church has decisively responded, the exclusive definition keeps church and canon from being unduly divorced from one another—the two concepts go hand in hand. However, there are a number of concerns about this definition that need to be explored.

First, it is difficult to believe that the sharp Scripture-canon distinction drawn by modern advocates of the exclusive definition would have been so readily shared by their historical counterparts in the second century. Would early Christians have regarded “Scripture” as fluid and open-ended and only “canon” as limited and restricted? If they were able to say that certain books in their library were Scripture, then that implies they would have been able to say that other books in their library were not Scripture. But, if they are able to say which books are (and are not) Scripture, then how is that materially different than saying which books are in (or not in) a canon? Thus, it seems some degree of limitation and exclusion is already implied in the term Scripture. As Iain Provan observes, “The question I am asking is whether the idea of scripture does not itself imply the idea of limitation, of canon, even if it is not yet conceived that the limits have been reached. I believe that it does so imply.”18 If so, then the necessity of a strict demarcation between Scripture and canon largely disappears.

Second, while the exclusive definition insists the term canon cannot be used until the New Testament collection has been officially “closed,” significant ambiguity remains on what, exactly, constitutes this closing. If it is absolute uniformity of practice, across all of Christendom, then, on those terms, there was still not a canon even in the fourth century. Indeed, on those terms we still do not have a canon even today.19 If the closing of the canon refers to a formal, official act of the early church, then we are hard pressed to find such an act before the Council of Trent in the sixteenth century.20 The fact of the matter is that when we look into the history of the canon we realize that there was never a time when the boundaries of the New Testament were closed in the way the exclusive definition would require. Stephen Chapman comments on this problem: “Rather than being a minor problem, this inconsistency casts significant doubt upon the appropriateness of the entire approach. Why should scholars adopt as the correct usage of the term ‘canon’ a meaning that does not correspond fully to any historical reality?”21 Ironically, then, the exclusive definition is as guilty of anachronism as any of the views that it critiques.

This leads us to the third, and arguably the most foundational, problem for this definition. Inherent to the exclusive definition is an insistence that the fourth century represents such a profoundly different stage in the development of the New Testament that it warrants a decisive change in terminology. Indeed, Dungan refers to the stage of Scripture and the stage of canon as “very different.”22 But was the canon so very different in the fourth century? While a broader degree of consensus was no doubt achieved by this point, the core books of the New Testament—the four Gospels and the majority of Paul’s epistles—had already been recognized and received for centuries. Whatever supposedly happened in the fourth century neither altered the status of these books nor increased their authority.23 It is precisely at this point that the limitations of the exclusive definition become clear. The abrupt change in terminology gives the impression that these books bore some lesser status prior to this point; it communicates that Christians only had Scripture and not a canon. Or, as one scholar put it, prior to the fourth century Christians only had a “boundless, living mass of hetero­genous” texts.24 At best this is obscurant, and at worst misleading. Moreover, it feeds the notion that the canon was somehow the result of “a great and meritorious act of the church.”25 And this is why this definition is a core tenet of the extrinsic model—it implies there was no (and could be no) canon until the church officially acted. Stephen Dempster highlights this problem: “Reserving the terminology ‘canon’ for only the final collection of books obscures the continuity that exists at earlier times. To accept such a limiting definition might suggest that the canon did not have a history, only to be created ex nihilo, the result of a [church] council.”26

An example of this third issue can be seen clearly in the recent work of Craig Allert. The stated goal of his volume is to “emphasize the centrality of the church in the formation of the New Testament.”27 It is no surprise, then, that he is such a strong advocate of Sundberg’s definition of canon because, as he acknowledges, “Sundberg’s work has had the effect of pushing the decisive period, that of formal canonization, into the fourth and fifth centuries.”28 Such a late date for canon allows Allert to raise the profile of the church—it was there from the beginning, whereas the canon only arrives late on the scene. He declares, “The Bible was not always ‘there’ in early Christianity. Yet the church still continued to function in its absence.”29 While Allert is right to remind us of the important role of the church, this whole approach to the development of the canon raises some concerns. If the core books of the New Testament were functioning as authoritative Scripture by the middle of the second century, then is it really helpful to claim that early Christians did not have a “Bible”? This sort of language seems to bring more confusion than clarity. Although it may prevent one kind of misperception (that the canon was neat and tidy in the second century), it ends up promulgating what is arguably a bigger one (that early Christians had little interest in a New Testament until the fourth century).

With these concerns on the table (and more could be added), one might get the impression that this critique has been offered to challenge the overall legitimacy of the exclusive definition. However, that is not the intent here. If the above concerns are addressed, then the exclusive definition still has an important role to play. After all, the exclusive definition is correct that the boundaries of the canon were not solidified until the fourth century—and, in this sense, we did not have a “canon” until that time. The exclusive definition just needs to acknowledge that this is a general consensus and not an official act of “closing” with airtight boundaries that somehow increased the authority of these books.30 Thus, the main point of this critique is not to do away with the exclusive definition entirely but to challenge those advocates of the exclusive view who claim that it is the only legitimate perspective on canon. Given the limitations and weaknesses of the exclusive definition we have observed, we should be hesitant to think it completely exhausts the meaning of the term. If w...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Contents
• Preface
• Abbreviations
• Introduction
• 1 The Definition of Canon
• 2 The Origins of Canon
• 3 The Writing of Canon
• 4 The Authors of Canon
• 5 The Date of Canon
• Conclusion
• Bibliography
• Author Index
• Subject Index
• Scripture Index
• Notes
• About the Author
• More Titles from InterVarsity Press