XV. Tertullian, Cyprian, and the Century of Chaos
Tertullian, a highly-educated lawyer, converted to Christianity in 195 A.D., and was an avid proponent of orthodoxy in Carthage, until 206 when, as Jerome reports (On Famous Men, 53), « distressed by the envy and laxity of the clergy of the Roman church, » he became a leader of the Montanist sect of Christianity. Tertullian generally accepts the traditional canon, including Hermas, until his conversion to Montanism, at which point he declares it false (another example of doctrine driving decisions regarding canonicity, as opposed to objective historical investigation ; M 159-60), and tells a story, somehow never mentioned before, that its author was kicked out of the church for composing a lie. Unfortunately, Tertullian is notoriously prone to reporting fabulous lies in support of his views, very much in the fashion of a slimy lawyer, and the most notorious case is when he claims that Tiberius asked the Senate at Rome to recognize Christianity as an official religion (Apology 1.5). Cyprian follows, and as a convert in 246, then bishop and martyr in 258, he repeats the superstitious rationale for the four-Gospel tradition : they are four in number « like the rivers of Paradise » (Epistles, 73). Worse, he says Paul and John each wrote to seven churches according to « the seven sons in the song of Hannah » (M 162). Whatever his reasons, Cyprian rejected the canonicity of Philemon, Hebrews, James, 2 Peter, 2 and 3 John, and Jude, and this opinion carried for a while in the West (M 160-3, 232).
The first organized Imperial persecutions of Christianity (under Decius and Valentinian, and then Diocletian and Galerius) took place in this period, and by the beginning of the 4th century involved the outlawing and destruction of Christian literature. Even more than combating heresy, this became an important factor in compelling decisions of canonicity by forcing Christians to decide which books could be surrendered to authorities and burned without committing a sin, in contrast with those that were worth dying for (M 106-8). Once again, the very nature of the situation meant that doctrine decided the case more than any objective historical criteria, but our evidence from the 3rd century, a century of near-perpetual civil war and economic and political chaos throughout the Roman world, is too scanty to draw out any stories about what finally happened to the Bible as a result.
But the persecutions did not prevent even more spurious works from being generated. The Epistle of Paul to the Laodiceans, a poor forgery written perhaps near the end of the 3rd century (inspired by Col. 4:16), remained part of many accepted Bibles throughout the Middle Ages, and continued to be included in some printed Bibles as late as the 17th century (M 182-3, 239-40). On the other hand, the Apocalypse of Paul (M 186-7), purporting to be written by Paul himself, but really composed in the 3rd century as well, was never taken anywhere near as seriously. It was apparently admired by many monks in the early Middle Ages, yet never had a chance at the canon, and it is best classified with the 3rd century Christian novels and other works of Christian fiction that proliferated in this period.
XVI. Eusebius, the First History of the Church, and the Earliest Complete Bibles
The first Christian scholar to engage in researching and writing a complete history of the Christian church, Eusebius of Caesarea, reveals the embarrassing complexity of the development of the Christian canon, despite his concerted attempt to cover this with a pro-orthodox account. Two things must be known : first, Eusebius was either a liar or hopelessly credulous (see n. 6), and either way not a very good historian ; second, Eusebius rewrote his History of the Church at least five times (cf. M 202, n. 29), in order to accommodate changing events, including the ever-important Council of Nicea, where Arianism, the view that Christ was created by God and not entirely identical to God (the greatest advocate of this was Eusebius’ contemporary Arius, after whom the doctrine was named, but the idea was not entirely original to him), was decisively declared heretical, and for the first time in history this decision had the full backing and enforcement of the Roman Empire. Eusebius was an Arian until that day, and, not desiring to lose his position in the church, he abandoned his Arianism. We may never know what effect this had on his final revision of his history—but any view he may have taken about the canon that was pro-Arian was certainly expunged. This may reveal once again how doctrine more than objective scholarship affected Christian choices concerning canonical texts. Even in 327 A.D., when Eusebius published the final draft of his Church History, two years after the great Council of Nicea, which set out to establish a decisive orthodox creed that would be enforced by law throughout the world, there was no official Bible. Bruce Metzger paints the picture superbly (202), for what drove Eusebius to pay so much attention to the history of the Bible must have been :
Eusebius’ search for certainty as well as…the absence of any official declaration having an absolute value, such as a canon issued by a synod, or the collective agreement among churches or bishops. Of these there is not a trace in the long series of literary notices, so conscientiously amassed by the historian. But, when all is done, the most that Eusebius can register is uncertainty so great that he seems to get confused when making a statement about it. The only standard Eusebius employed in deciding which texts to call « recognized » is to accept every book that is recognized by every (orthodox) author he knows (Church History 3.25, cf. M 201-7). The next category of texts includes those that are recognized by some but disputed at least by someone (someone, that is, who was regarded by him as orthodox—hence, the opinions of early church leaders like Marcion did not count). The final category of texts includes those universally regarded as heretical by those adhering to his idea of orthodoxy. This standard is obviously multiply flawed : first, it begins with his own subjective doctrinal judgment of who is orthodox and thus whose opinion counts at all, and second it is based solely on the doctrinal opinions of these writers. There is no reference to standards of historical research or textual criticism, for example. And against general sentiment, Eusebius only voices one opinion of his own, in defense of the Revelation of John, which was already in the second category and thus half-way to being canonical. In giving priority to the Four Gospels, Eusebius calls them the « Holy Quaternion, » thus showing signs of the belief that there could only be four Gospels for mystical or numerological reasons, a belief we have seen before (in the cases of Irenaeus and Cyprian). He adds to these Acts, 1 Peter and 1 John, and all the Epistles of Paul (whether he meant to include Hebrews is unknown—he elsewhere supports the view advanced by Clement of Alexandria that it was written by Paul in Hebrew and translated by Luke or Clement of Rome, cf. Church History 3.3, 3.38). Eusebius hints that there were some disputes about the Apocalypse of John, but places it confusingly in the first category. Among disputed but not heretical texts he places James, Jude, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John, but also confuses the case further by including among these « partly disputed » texts some other works that he otherwise classifies as notha, « base » or « counterfeit » (literally « bastard texts »), giving no indication of what he means by that, or what criteria he applied. These include the Acts of Paul, book of Hermas, Apocalypse of Peter, Epistle of Barnabas, Gospel of the Hebrews, and a certain « Teachings of the Apostles, » but also, confusingly, the Apocalypse of John again. As heretical forgeries he identifies the Gospels of Peter, Thomas, and Matthias, and the Acts of Andrew, John, and others.
Most astonishing is the fact that, after leaving us with this confusing state of affairs, Eusebius reports that the Emperor Constantine commissioned Eusebius personally to produce fifty excellent copies of the sacred scriptures which would be the basis, no doubt, of the official imperial Bible (Life of Constantine 4.36.37), yet we are never told what books Eusebius chose to include, or on what authority or criteria. Two nearly-complete Bibles survive from the 4th century which some believe may be copies of this imperial standard text : the Codex Sinaiticus, which has the four Gospels, Acts, fourteen Pauline Epistles (including Hebrews), seven Catholic Epistles, the Revelation of John, the Epistle of Barnabas, and the book of Hermas, and the Vaticanus Codex, which appears to contain the same material in the same order, although both texts are incomplete (Sinaiticus breaks off in the middle of Hermas, Vaticanus in the middle of Hebrews). We may wonder what books, if any, were appended after Hermas.
Finally, we have another anonymous list (in Latin) of the books included in the Bible, found in a 6th century manuscript, which cannot be dated securely, though c. 300 A.D. is most likely, and it confirms the state of confusion met by Eusebius, as well as the esteem still reserved for certain books no longer in the Bible today (cf. M 310-11). The list includes the four Gospels and Acts, as well as the Acts of Paul (astonishingly, cf. discussion of this text above), only ten of Paul’s Epistles (it excludes Hebrews, Philippians, and 1 and 2 Thessalonians), 1 and 2 Peter (curiously, the list says these are letters to Peter), James, Jude, 1, 2, and 3 John, Barnabas, Hermas, and the Apocalypses of John and Peter. Metzger suggests likely scribal errors here (230), but clearly, before the late 4th century, the contents of the Bible were neither entirely settled, nor quite like what they are today.
XVII. Cyril of Jerusalem, Athanasius of Alexandria, and the Eastern Synods
Around 350 A.D., for his churches in Jerusalem, Bishop Cyril composed a set of lectures with the explicit purpose of indoctrinating new members of the Church, which explained every aspect of the orthodox faith, including the texts to be regarded as holy scripture (Catechetical Lectures 4.33-36 ; M 209ff.). This is the first time anything like this had been done : an official pronouncement from a high-ranking church official on what the Bible was to consist of, enforced on a major diocese by an imperial Church authority. Moreover, Cyril declares that no other books are to be read, not even privately. This was the decree and decision of one man, and we are given no insights into what criteria he employed. His canon consists of the four Gospels, Acts, and the now-standard 21 Epistles, in short the present Bible, minus the Revelation. The first synod ever held to decide the official contents of the Bible was the Synod of Laodicea (Asia Minor) in 363 A.D., consisting of twenty to thirty bishops (M 210 and 312). The resulting decree stated quite simply that it was now officially resolved : « Let no private psalms nor any uncanonical books be read in the church, but only canonical ones of the New and Old Testament. » The list that follows matches what we now have in modern Bibles, minus the Revelation. The influence of Cyril is almost certain. At any rate, we have no idea what criteria were used to decide this canon, and it is likely that mere authority overwhelmed any other consideration—since Cyril had decreed a canon, that was the canon, and the purpose of the synod was merely to assert the fact that nothing else was to be read. Since the canon list does not even appear in some versions of the synodic decree, it has also been suggested that the synod did not in fact name the books that were canonical but merely assumed the Cyrilian canon, and that someone later decided the decree had to be clarified by adding the list of books accepted by the church. In such a case, the decision behind the list was even less reflective or objective.
The next step was taken by the rabid anti-Arian conservative Athanasius, Bishop of Alexandria (cf. M 211-2). The Bishop of Alexandria was one of the most important men in the Church for one simple reason : the Festal Epistle written by that bishop to the churches in Egypt was considered the authoritative statement on the dates of Christian festivals, in deference to the presence of astronomical experts at Alexandria. It was consequently read and employed by the Syrian churches (via Antioch) and the Western churches (via Rome). In 367 A.D. Athanasius took the chance afforded him and included in his Festal Epistle of that year what he declared to be the canonical texts : the very Bible we now know (Gospels, Acts, 21 Epistles, and Revelation). « Let no one add to these, » he declared, « let nothing be taken away from them. » This became the Western Catholic canon, again by fiat of one man, and through deference to his authority by the rest of the Church. However, men like Gregory of Nazianzus still rejected Revelation, and other ideas of what the Bible should contain persisted here and there—either adding books (such as the Wisdom of Solomon and Ecclesiasticus, added to the OT), or rejecting them (Jude, 2 Peter, and 2 and 3 John especially).
It was not until 692 A.D. when this decision became anything official. That year the Trullan Synod was comprised of several Eastern bishops convened by Emperor Justinian to settle and organize the authorities for Christian law (just as Justinian had commanded for secular law). This decreed that, for instance, both the Synod of Laodicea and the Epistles of Athanasius were to be considered authoritative, even though they contradicted each other on whether Revelation was to be included (M 216-7). Furthering the confusion, this Synod also codified as official the so-called « Eighty-Fifth Apostolic Canon » (M 313) which was probably written in the late 4th century but attributed to Clement of Rome—this decree established the two letters of Clement as « sacred books » and part of the « venerable and holy » Bible, along with eight other books « which it is not appropriate to make public before all, because of the mysteries contained in them. » This mysterious remark is troubling, but reflects the problem, already mentioned earlier, of secret doctrines and sayings that are lost to us yet could be older and more authoritative than anything that survives.
Where this mysterious « canon » fits into history is unclear. It seems to accept the Laodicean canon, while adding the letters of Clement and eight unnamed « secret » books, for no clear reason. That this canon was actually written by Clement of Rome, as it implies, is all but impossible, since it is never mentioned by anyone before the 4th century despite its author being an important early authority, and 1 Clement never cites or mentions any texts apart from a few Pauline Epistles, much less a « holy and venerable » canon of « sacred books. » But it would be intriguing if it were actually written by Clement of Alexandria—the reference to secret books would fit Morton Smith’s discovery of a Clementine reference to a secret Gospel of Mark (see XII). At any rate, the official 7th century declaration was thoroughly contradictory regarding the canon, and the members of the Trullan Synod obviously, in Metzger’s words, « had not even read the texts thus sanctioned. » Their decision gave license for confusion : at least six different lists of canonical texts were still in use in the East by the tenth century (M 217). And to this day, Revelation is not included in the Syrian Bible.
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