Conditions aiding the formation of the canon

The New Testament consists of 27 books, which are the residue, or precipitate, out of many 1st–2nd-century-ce writings that Christian groups considered sacred. In these various writings the early church transmitted its traditions: its experience, understanding, and interpretation of Jesus as the Christ and the self-understanding of the church. In a seemingly circuitous interplay between the historical and theological processes, the church selected these 27 writings as normative for its life and teachings—i.e., as its canon (from the Greek kanōn, literally, a reed or cane used as a measuring rod and, figuratively, a rule or standard). Other accounts, letters, and revelations—e.g., the Didachē (Teaching of the Twelve Apostles), Gospel of Peter, First Letter of Clement, Letter of Barnabas, Apocalypse (Revelation) of Peter, Shepherd of Hermas—exist, but through a complex process the canon was fixed for both the Eastern and Western churches in the 4th century. The canon contained four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John), Acts, 21 letters, and one book of a strictly revelatory character, Revelation. These were not necessarily the oldest writings, not all equally revelatory, and not all directed to the church at large.

The Old Testament in its Greek translation, the Septuagint (LXX), was the Bible of the earliest Christians. The New Covenant, or Testament, was viewed as the fulfillment of the Old Testament promises of salvation that were continued for the new Israel, the church, through the Holy Spirit, which had come through Christ, upon the whole people of God. Thus, the Spirit, which in the Old Testament had been viewed as resting only on special charismatic figures, in the New Testament became “democratized”—i.e., was given to the whole people of the New Covenant. In postbiblical Judaism of the first Christian centuries, it was believed that the Spirit had ceased after the writing of the Book of Malachi (the last book of the Old Testament canon) and that no longer could anyone say “Thus saith the Lord,” as had the prophets, nor could any further holy writ be produced.

The descent of the Spirit on the community of the Messiah (i.e., the Christ) was thus perceived by Christians as a sign of the beginning of the age to come, and the church understood itself as having access to that inspiration through the Spirit. Having this understanding of itself, the church created the New Testament canon not only as a continuation and fulfillment of the Old Testament but also as qualitatively different, because a new age had been ushered in. These 27 books, therefore, were not merely appended to the traditional Jewish threefold division of the Old Testament—the Law (Torah), the Prophets (Neviʾim), and the Writings (Ketuvim)—but rather became the New Testament, the second part of the Christian Bible, of which the Old Testament is the first.

Because of a belief that something almost magical occurs—with an element of secrecy—when a transmitted oral tradition is put into writing, there was, in both the Old and New Testaments, an expression of reluctance about committing sacred material to writing. When such sacred writings are studied to find the revealed word of God, a settled delimiting of the writings—i.e., a canon—must be selected. In the last decade of the 1st century, the Synod of Jamnia (Jabneh), in Palestine, fixed the canon of the Bible for Judaism, which, following a long period of flux and fluidity and controversy about certain of its books, Christians came to call the Old Testament. A possible factor in the timing of this Jewish canon was a situation of crisis: the fall of Jerusalem and reaction to the fact that the Septuagint was used by Christians and to their advantage, as in the translation of the Hebrew word ʿalma (“young woman”) in chapter 7, verse 14, of Isaiah—“Behold, a young woman shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel”—into the Greek term parthenos (“virgin”).

As far as the New Testament is concerned, there could be no Bible without a church that created it; yet conversely, having been nurtured by the content of the writings themselves, the church selected the canon. The concept of inspiration was not decisive in the matter of demarcation because the church understood itself as having access to inspiration through the guidance of the Spirit. Indeed, until c. 150 ce, Christians could produce writings either anonymously or pseudonymously—i.e., using the name of some acknowledged important biblical or apostolic figure. The practice was not believed to be either a trick or fraud. Apart from letters in which the person of the writer was clearly attested—as in those of Paul, which have distinctive historical, theological, and stylistic traits peculiar to Paul—the other writings placed their emphases on the message or revelation conveyed, and the author was considered to be only an instrument or witness to the Holy Spirit or the Lord. When the message was committed to writing, the instrument was considered irrelevant, because the true author was believed to be the Spirit. By the mid-2nd century, however, with the delay of the final coming (the Parousia) of the Messiah as the victorious eschatological (end-time) judge and with a resulting increased awareness of history, increasingly a distinction was made between the apostolic time and the present. There also was a gradual cessation of “authentically pseudonymous” writings in which the author could identify with Christ and the Apostles and thereby gain ecclesiastical recognition.