Why Catholic Bibles Are Bigger (7 page)

Some may be tempted to dismiss St. Clement’s use of Judith
as an example drawn from secular history, not Scripture. On the contrary: just
as we saw with the Maccabees in Hebrews 11, Judith is linked directly in 1
Clement to an exalted figure from the
Protocanonical
books, and both she
and Esther are produced as examples of women who were “strengthened by the
grace of God.”
[67]
Likewise, God delivered Holofernes into the hands of Judith to save his chosen
people, just as He spared the Jews through the humility of Esther. There is not
the slightest hint in this passage that St. Clement considers the ancient
account of Judith’s heroics to be one whit less reliable, one whit less
religious in nature, than the similar story contained in the book of Esther.
Furthermore, St. Clement calls Judith “blessed”—quite a significant
appellation, since the only other persons given this title in his letter are
the towering figures of the “Blessed” Paul and the “Blessed” Moses.
[68]
In short, the author
of 1 Clement takes for granted that his Corinthian readership will understand
and accept his use of Judith as a biblical figure worthy of mention alongside
some of the greatest names in Scripture. As a side note; this passage also
suggests that St. Clement accepted the longer Septuagint version of Esther as
well (which includes sections omitted from Protestant bibles) since that
version better suits his rhetorical purposes.
[69]

The Epistle of Barnabas (ca. AD 70)

The title of this work is something of a misnomer; modern
scholars do not consider
The Epistle of Barnabas
to have been written by
the great companion of St. Paul (largely  because of marked differences in
viewpoint). Nevertheless, the letter is very ancient, and it was highly
regarded in the early Church; so highly, in fact, that many ancient writers considered
it a canonical New Testament book. Its author and place of composition are
unknown; it may have originated in Alexandria, Palestine, or even Syria.

Are there Deuterocanonical references in 1 Clement—in a work
so widely honored in early Christianity that the famous Codex Sinaiticus
included it right after the Book of Revelation? Yes. Barnabas 6:7 appears to be
quoting Wisdom 2:12; as if Wisdom were part of Isaiah 3:9-10. If this
identification is correct, then the intermixing of the two prophecies from
Wisdom and Isaiah would strongly suggest that the author understood them both
to be divine and prophetic in origin.
[70]
In our last section, we saw a similar intertwining of Wisdom
and the Psalms in Matthew 27:42-43, where the psalmist’s Suffering Servant
appears to be linked to Wisdom’s binding of the Just One.
[71]

Epistle of St. Polycarp to the Philippians (AD 69–155)

St. Polycarp, who was the bishop of the church in Smyrna,
was martyred by the Romans around the year AD 157. We know something about his
life through the writings of the second century Father Irenaeus of Lyons, who
wrote:

Polycarp also was not only instructed by apostles and
conversed with many who had seen Christ, but was also, by apostles in Asia,
appointed bishop of the Church in Smyrna, whom I also saw in my early youth,
for he tarried [on earth] a very long time, and when a very old man, gloriously
and nobly suffering martyrdom, departed this life, having always taught the
things which had learned from the apostles, and which the Church has handed
down, and which alone are true.
[72]

His letter to the Church in Philippi is the only surviving
authentic letter of St. Polycarp. In it, this early Christian martyr cites the
Book of Tobit.
[73]

Stand fast, therefore, in these things, and follow the
example of the Lord, being firm and unchangeable in the faith, loving the
brotherhood, and being attached to one another, joined together in the truth,
exhibiting the meekness of the Lord in your intercourse with one another, and
despising no one
. When you can do good, defer it not, because ‘alms
delivers from death.’
[Tb 4:10,12:9] Be all of you subject one to another?
[cf. 1 Pt 5:5] having your conduct blameless among the Gentiles,’ [1 Pt 2:12]
that ye may both receive praise for your good works, and the Lord may not be
blasphemed through you. But woe to him by whom the name of the Lord is
blasphemed! [Is 52:5] Teach, therefore, sobriety to all, and manifest it also
in your own conduct.
[74]

Like 1 Clement and Barnabas, Polycarp quotes from the
Deuterocanon without making any distinction or qualification, even though his
quote from Tobit is surrounded on all sides by other quotations from Scripture!
In this case, the quote from Tobit is followed by two short quotations from 1
Peter and one quote from the Book of Isaiah, all indicating strongly that
Polycarp understood Tobit to part the same body of authoritative texts.
[75]

The Shepherd of Hermas (ca. 140)

The Shepherd of Hermas
is a Christian apocalyptic
writing composed in the first half of the second century AD. In this book,
Hermas receives several visions from Our Lord in which He explains various
mysteries and doctrines, especially that of penance. Scholars note several
points of contact between the
Shepherd of Hermas
and the
Deuterocanonical books.
[76]
 
However, most of these allusions are too indistinct to insist upon. There is
one worthy of note, however; it comes at the beginning of a section titled
First
Commandment,
in which Hermas writes:

First of all, believe that there is one God who
created and finished all things,
and made all things out of nothing
.
[77]

The doctrine that God made all things out of nothing
(creation
ex nihilo
) is never explicitly stated in the Protocanonical books
of Scripture, although it is implied in several passages.
[78]
  Second Maccabees 7:28, however, does
explicitly teach this great and foundational Christian doctrine:

I beseech thee, my son, look upon heaven and earth, and
all that is in them: and
consider that
God made them out of
nothing,
and mankind also…
[79]

Hermas’ phraseology would seem to echo that of 2 Maccabees,
but it is impossible to determine with certainty whether he used the
Deuterocanonical book as his source.
[80]

The Didache (ca. 140)

Although the
Didache
(or The Teaching of the Twelve
Apostles) is perhaps the earliest surviving document outlining rules for Church
government, it is difficult to date. Scholars generally place the date of
composition sometime during the first half of the second century (though much
earlier dates are widely accepted). This book contains two possible points of
contact with the Book of Sirach.

The first instance is debatable. Didache
1:6 appears
to be quoting the Book of Sirach, but the wording is imprecise (Protestant
exegete J. B. Lightfoot, in his work
The Apostolic Fathers,
believes
this to be an inexact quote from memory).
[81]
The second citation is more discernible than
the first. It reads:

‘Be just in your judgment’: [Dt 1:16,17; Prv 31:9]
make no distinction between man and man when correcting transgressions. Do not
waver in your decision. ‘Do not be one that opens his hands to receive, but
shuts them when it comes to giving’ [Sir 4:31].
[82]

This passage certainly appears to be dependent upon the Book
of Sirach.
[83]
Also
significant is the fact that the Didachist makes no distinction between this
quotation and the quotations from Deuteronomy and Proverbs which preceded it.
The transition between the quotes is seamless.

Second Clement (ca. 150)

This early document has come down to us as the
Second Epistle
of Clement to the Corinthians
. Its traditional title, nowhere included
within the text of the work itself, is now almost universally held to be
incorrect; the book does not seem to an epistle at all, but rather the earliest
preserved Christian homily outside the pages of the New Testament; and the
identification with Clement is almost certainly an error. It may have been
composed in Corinth and included in a collection of writings along with the
authentic letter of Clement. There is no doubt at all, however, that it dates
from the second century AD at latest.

Scholars do note a few points of contact between the
disputed books and 2 Clement. These allusions are a bit vague and may, again,
have been quoted from memory. For example, Lightfoot believes the writer of 2
Clement 16:4 to have had Tobit 12:8 in mind.
[84]
Likewise, 2 Clement
16:4 appears to be
more of an echo of Tobit 12:8 than a direct quote or allusion.

What have we found in this brief survey of very ancient Christian
writing? We have found that the Apostolic Fathers used the Deuterocanonical
books in a manner quite similar to that which we saw employed by the Apostles
themselves (and the other New Testament writers).
[85]
Although never explicitly referred to as
“Scripture” or “canonical,” the Apostolic Fathers freely quoted from, alluded
to, and utilized the Deuteros as source material, just as they did the rest of
Sacred Scripture. Certainly the Deuteros were never impugned, segregated, or
qualified by them in any way. On the contrary, there are several instances in
which the books in question to confirm doctrine. Examples: 1 Clement 55:2-6, in
which Judith is presented as a Christian model of God’s grace; Barnabas 6:7,
wherein the book of Wisdom is held to contain an authentic prophecy about the
sufferings of the coming Christ; and
Polycarp
10:1-3, in which the
martyr quotes Tobit concerning the spiritual efficacy of almsgiving. In his
doctoral dissertation, Brabban, after a very thorough study of the sources of
the Apostolic Fathers, concludes that their “canon” must have included Wisdom,
Sirach, Judith, Esther (expanded version), Tobit, 4 Esdras, (1) Enoch, an
expanded Jeremiah, and perhaps others as well.
[86]
 

What have we demonstrated in this chapter? Simply this: if
there was any longstanding closed Old Testament canon, no early Christian can
be shown to have honored it. Both the New Testament writers and the Apostolic
Fathers demonstrate no hesitation, no slightest tendency to confine their
sources to Protocanonical books alone. Instead, both groups of writers freely
used sources which are indisputably outside the limits of the traditional
Protestant canon. The Protestant disparagement, the typical hesitation to cite
and even the avoidance of these great works, is alien to all ancient Christian
writers; whether Divinely inspired (as were the New Testament authors) or
merely reflective of primitive practice (as were the earliest Fathers). In
early Christianity, the Deuterocanon is never treated as less than Scripture.

When was the canon closed in Judaism? This is the
all-important question. And exactly what does a “closed” canon mean?

A closure occurs when a statement or declaration is made
that draws a line between inspired texts and uninspired texts. Anti-Catholics
have been quick to affirm any early list which might suggest that such closed
canon did exist in Old Testament times (e.g. Josephus, Melito, Origen, et al.),
very slow to credit evidence to the contrary. After all, not every
pre-Christian list equals amounts to the recognition of a closed canon. Jurists
correctly draw a distinction between
descriptive lists
and
exhaustive
lists
. A descriptive list might highlight certain important components of a
given category without necessarily including every single item that might be
found within it. For example, the Master of Ceremonies at an awards show might
announce that there will be no smoking or loud noises, and that everyone must
sit in his or her assigned seat. Should this be construed as an exhaustive
enumeration of every single behavior that must be avoided at an awards show?
Certainly not; many other things are expected of the audience as well (e.g. not
to fight, not to spit tobacco juice on the floor, and so forth), none of which
were explicitly mentioned. An exhaustive list explicates
all items
in
such a fashion that nothing can be added or changed—but not all lists are
exhaustive lists.

At this point in our survey, we have not been able to
produce an exhaustive list proposing to segregate inspired from non-inspired
writings (i.e. separating books inspired texts from apocryphal works). In fact,
up to the middle of the second century not even the rabbinical writings contain
such a demarcation. The Rabbinical debates which do begin to appear during that
period focus on whether certain books (e.g. Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs,
Esther, et al.) are to be considered sacred, but even these did not arrive at
any definitive decision—or such a decision, at least, was not recorded.
[87]
Indeed, the first
rabbinical pronouncement of any kind to explicitly deny the inspired status of
the Deuterocanon comes during the middle decades of the second century, right
around the time of the Second Jewish Revolt (AD 132–135).
[88]

The Second Jewish Revolt

Since the end of the First Jewish Revolt at the end of the first
Christian century, an uneasy tension had existed between the Romans and the
Jews of Palestine. In AD 118, Hadrian I became emperor; and Hadrian was
sympathetic to the plight of the Jews. He even proposed the rebuilding of the
Jerusalem Temple which had been destroyed in the First Revolt. The problem was
that he wished to rebuild the Temple at a location other than its former spot,
which the Jews considered sacred. The result of the emperor’s action was to
enflame rather than to pacify the Palestinian Jews and it set the stage for a
second great rebellion.

The Jews suffered much in the first revolt, which failed
largely because of conflicts between various parties of zealots within Judaism.
These deadly conflicts eventually spelled the fall of Jerusalem and the
destruction of her Temple. The lessons, however, of this painful and bloody
defeat were well learned by the instigators of the Second Revolt. Internecine
warfare must be prevented this time; unity must be achieved at all costs. To
this end, the chief rabbi at Jamnia, Rabbi Akiba ben Joseph, solemnly declared
the leader of the second revolt, one Simon Bar Cochba, to be the promised
Messiah come to deliver God’s people at last.
[89]
Simon was the “star out of Jacob” (Heb. Bar
Cochba, “son of the star”) predicted by Balaam in Numbers 24:17.
[90]
The First Revolt was a
national uprising; this Second Revolt would be a messianic movement.
[91]
By means of Akiba’s
work, a large number of Jews joined in the rebellion. Even Samaritans and
pagans joined Bar Cochba in his revolt. However, there was one Jewish sect
which refused to join: that obstinate tribe known as Christians.

The Christians, a majority of whom were still ethnically
Jewish, were pressed to join in this life and death struggle with Rome, but
they refused. To accept Bar Cochba as Messiah, as Akiba insisted, would have
been nothing short of apostasy; and because of their refusal to do so, Christians
were treated by the Jews as heretics and traitors.
[92]
It is this same Rabbi Akiba who is the very
first writer to explicitly and forthrightly reject the inspiration of both the
Christian New Testament and the books of the Deuterocanon
.
[93]
Akiba’s declaration is
found in
Tosefta Yahayim
2:13, which reads:

The Gospels and heretical books do not defile the
hands. The books of Ben Sira and all other books written from then on, do not
defile the hands.
[94]

Two outstanding points must be drawn from this impious
declaration: first, it must have been common knowledge even at this early date
that the Christians accepted the Deuterocanon and used it as Scripture (along
with the Gospels), otherwise, there would have been no need to rule against
them; secondly, that at least some Jews must also have shared that acceptance,
otherwise Akiba’s decree would have been superfluous.

Here we have a hostile witness confirming through his
actions that the earliest Christians accepted both the Gospels and the
Deuterocanon as inspired and sacred Scripture. It was this watershed event—the
naming of the false Messiah Bar Cochba and the anathematizing of those who
rejected him—which occasioned the very first unquestionable rejection of the
Deuteros by a single, widely recognized Jewish authority. It was under Akiba’s
tenure that a single textual tradition of the Old Testament was first adopted;
before this time (as we have shown) a variety of different texts were in use
among the Jews. It was here, sometime in the middle of the second Christian
century, that Judaism first adopted an official normative text (i.e. the
Masoretic
Text
or the MT).
[95]
The exclusive use of this text freed the Jewish population from any further
doubts rooted in the troublesome Greek Septuagint—that Old Testament
translation employed to such great effect within the pages of the New and which
Christian apologists had been using to prove that Jesus was the long-expected
Messiah.
[96]
In its
place, a Jewish proselyte and disciple of Rabbi Akiba, named Aquila, produced a
hyper-literal Greek translation of the
Masoretic Text
to serve as a
replacement for Greek-speaking Jews. Aquila’s text followed Rabbi Akiba’s
peculiar interpretative methods, and it omitted the Deuterocanon. Its
appearance of strict literalism overshadowed the fact that some of its
renderings were biased towards Akiba’s peculiar interpretive scheme.
[97]
Rabbi Akiba’s tenure
also marked the beginning of long series of charges, made by Christians, that
Judaism had altered or deleted portions of the text of Scripture. Justin
Martyr, a contemporary of Akiba’s and an apologist who debated with Jews, lists
dozens of such alleged alterations, not all of which have been borne out by
scholarship. This illustrates that the chaos created by the failed and bloody
revolts made it difficult, if not impossible, for the early Christians to
ascertain precisely what constituted normative rabbinical Scripture and what
did not. In other words, they knew that a change had occurred, but they were
not sure what precisely had changed.
[98]

The Bar Cochba Revolt failed and Rabbi Akiba was led to a
misguided martyrdom at the hands of the pagan Romans. Rabbi Mier and Judah the
Prince, two of Akiba’s disciples, completed their master’s work of
systematizing, collecting, and editing the oral tradition of the Jews. Their
work later became the Mishnah and Talmud. It is also during reign of Akiba (or
shortly afterwards) that the idea of a cessation of prophecy began to appear in
rabbinic literature.
[99]
These oral traditions of the Jews claim to have come from antiquity, but both
Protestant and Jewish scholars have admitted that they are merely devices used
to give the impression that the opinions of these late, rabbinical sages were
rooted in the prophetic tradition. The idea of a cessation of prophecy allowed
Jewish leaders to become the sole arbiters of Jewish oral tradition.
[100]
Protestant appeals,
therefore, to such late rabbinic literature as proof of a fixed pre-Christian
canon are entirely misplaced. The evidence for a closed canon before the end of
the first Christian century is, at best, weak and unconvincing.
[101]

Let us now investigate, by use of ancient writings, how
Christians of the second and third centuries regarded these books.

Justin Martyr (ca. 100–163)

Born to pagan parents, Justin grew up with a love for
philosophy. While walking on a beach one day, Justin met an old man who
explained Christianity to him. Justin became a Christian and an ardent defender
of the Faith.

Though Justin made ample use of the Greek Septuagint when
quoting Scripture, he never, in any of his surviving books, makes any use of or
citation from the Deuterocanon. At first blush, this omission might appear to
speak strongly against early Christian acceptance of the books in question; a
closer look reveals the true explanation. Justin, like the other Christian
apologists of this era, used relatively little Scripture when defending the
Faith against pagans—for the simple reason that pagans did not accept Scripture
as authoritative. The only work of Justin’s addressed to a non-pagan readership
is his
Dialogue with Trypho the Jew,
composed (as most scholars believe)
during the years immediately following the Bar Cochba revolt. This being the
case, Justin deliberately refrained from using Deuterocanonical sources, since
Trypho, a Jew of the post-Akiba period, would not have recognized them as
authoritative. Such an explanation would have been easy to deduce, even if
Justin himself had not spelled it out in the pages of the
Dialogue
itself.
[102]
As a
matter of fact, one of Justin’s main points of attack in the debate with Trypho
is that his elders in the Synagogue had dared to alter, abridge, and otherwise
mutilate the very Word of God itself.
[103]

Melito of Sardis (d. 170)

Little is known about Melito of Sardis other than that he
was a well-respected bishop of the church at Sardis (one of the seven churches
of the book of Revelation) who lived in the latter half of the second century.
Only fragments of his works have come down to us. One such fragment, relevant
to our current discussion, is preserved in Eusebius’s
Church History
:

But in the Extracts made by him the same writer gives
at the beginning of the introduction a catalogue of the acknowledged books of
the Old Testament, which it is necessary to quote at this point. He writes as
follows: ‘Melito to his brother Onesimus, greeting: Since thou hast often, in
thy zeal for the word, expressed a wish to have extracts made from the Law and
the Prophets concerning the Saviour and concerning our entire faith, and hast
also desired to have an accurate statement of the ancient books, as regards
their number and their order, I have endeavored to perform the task, knowing
thy zeal for the faith, and thy desire to gain information in regard to the
word, and knowing that thou, in thy yearning after God, esteemest these things
above all else, struggling to attain eternal salvation. Accordingly when I went
East and came to the place where these things were preached and done, I learned
accurately the books of the Old Testament, and send them to thee as written
below. Their names are as follows: Of Moses, five books: Genesis, Exodus,
Numbers, Leviticus, Deuteronomy; Jesus Nave, Judges, Ruth; of Kings, four
books; of Chronicles, two; the Psalms of David, the Proverbs of Solomon, Wisdom
also, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, Job; of Prophets, Isaiah, Jeremiah; of the
twelve prophets, one book; Daniel, Ezekiel, Esdras. From which also I have made
the extracts, dividing them into six books.’ Such are the words of Melito.
[104]

Melito’s list is important because it is the earliest
surviving example of such a list compiled by a Christian. Protestant apologists
claim that Melito gives us here a complete listing of the Old Testament books
accepted by Christians in his day and that it happens to correspond to the
shorter Protestant canon. One vital fact must be noticed, however; Melito tells
us explicitly that he acquired this list only through investigation—by going
East, where he “learned accurately the Books of the Old Testament.” Now, it is
difficult to believe that a respected Christian bishop could possibly have been
ignorant of which books were read in the churches under his care; even more
difficult to believe that Melito had never thought to even attempt such a list
until his conscience was pricked by Onesimus’ inquiry. If this passage is to be
taken at face value, one must try to imagine a church where even the leaders do
not know (and show little interest in!) which books are and are not to be
considered the Word of God! Gigot offers a much more feasible explanation;
namely that the
Extracts
, quoted by Eusebius above, were a Christian
apologetic work to help Christians dialogue with Jews. It was, therefore,
important at the outset of the work for Melito to establish some common ground by
listing books which the Jews already accepted—just as Justin had a few years
earlier.

Why did Melito feel it necessary to travel all the way to
Palestine to receive his Jewish canon? Surely, there must have been Jews
practicing in Sardis? Indeed, there were; historians tell us that Sardis had a
very large Jewish population in the second century. In fact, one of the largest
synagogues from the Greco-Roman period, built around the time of Melito, has
been discovered at Sardis. What prevented Melito from simply knocking on the
door of this synagogue and asking one of its members?
[105]
It is reasonable to assume that he did
inquire, but that the Jews in Sardis were unable to give an adequate response.
After all, the chaotic period of the Bar Cochba Revolt was a recent memory and
much of Jewish tradition was still very much in flux (including rabbinical
discussions on the Old Testament canon) and would be for years to come.