Conclusion
4
The Authors of Canon
Were the New Testament Authors Unaware of Their Own Authority?
[Paul] apparently was unaware of the divinely inspired status of his own advice.
LEE MCDONALD, The Biblical Canon
D. Moody Smith, in his 2000 presidential address at the Society of Biblical Literature, declared: “The presumption of a historical distance, and consequent difference of purpose, between the composition of the NT writings and their incorporation into the canon of Scripture is representative of our discipline.” Moody has rightly recognized the fourth major tenet of modern canonical studies, namely that the New Testament authors wrote unaware of their own authority and without any intention that their writings would be “Scripture.” Their writings, we are told, were designed only as “occasional documents” to address immediate problems or issues, and it was only when the later church began to value these writings that they began to acquire authoritative status. Mark Allan Powell, in his recent New Testament introduction, affirms this view plainly: “The authors of our New Testament books did not know that they were writing scripture.” Schneemelcher takes this same approach: “The Gospels were not written as ‘canonical’ books, which were intended to be a norm as a ‘new scripture’ or to claim authority.”
Of course, it should be acknowledged that this particular understanding of the New Testament authors is correct on a number of important points. No one would suggest that these authors would have been able to foresee the full shape of the future canon (and their precise place within it)—that is not something that they could have anticipated. And it is also true that many documents within the New Testament have “occasional” dimensions to them, meaning that they were seeking (at least in part) to address particular situations within the first-century church. However, do these considerations necessarily mean that the New Testament authors had no sense of their own authority and wrote with no intention that their documents would somehow govern the life of the church? Although such claims about the New Testament authors might be widespread and oft-repeated, some scholars have begun to question their validity. This has not only been done by Smith (as noted above), but also by John Barton and N. T. Wright. Taking a cue from such studies, this chapter will continue to challenge the notion that the New Testament authors wrote with no awareness of their own authority. Our thesis is a simple one: the New Testament authors, generally speaking, demonstrate awareness that their writings passed down authentic apostolic tradition and therefore bore supreme authority in the life of the church. Or, as Wright puts it, these authors “were conscious of a unique vocation to write Jesus-shaped, Spirit-led, church-shaping books, as part of their strange first-generation calling.”
Whether or not we should use the term Scripture to describe how the New Testament writers understood their books is sure to generate debate and disagreement—some are comfortable with this terminology, and others less so. But, the particular terminology is really beside the point. Robert Spivey and Smith, for instance, are unwilling to acknowledge Paul is writing “Scripture” but are quite willing to say “[Paul] was consciously asserting his apostolic authority.” What Spivey and Smith never explain, however, is what material difference there is between these two kinds of authority. If apostolic authority allows one, by the Holy Spirit, to write (or speak) the very Word of God, then how is this qualitatively different from Scripture? For this reason, Barton is correct to remind us that specific terminology is, to some extent, irrelevant. The fact that New Testament books, in the earliest stages, were not called Scripture as often as we might expect is not due to their lack of authority, he argues, but is more likely due to the fact that “Scripture” was generally conceived as something old and ancient—something these new writings clearly were not. Barton comments:
It scarcely seems to matter very much whether or not we say that they were “Scripture”: their status as the most important books in the world was assured. If they were not graphē, then graphē had been surpassed by them; phenomenologically, they were Scripture, having the kind of authority and standing for Christians that holy books do have.
The key issue, then, is not what language the New Testament writers might have used to describe their own books (though on occasion they called them “Scripture”; compare 2 Pet 3:16; 1 Tim 5:18), or even what we would like to call these books, but whether these writers consciously wrote books that they understood to contain the new apostolic revelation about Jesus Christ and therefore to have supreme authority in the church.
We shall proceed through an exegetical analysis of key passages in various portions of the New Testament, including the Pauline letters, the Gospels and some of the other New Testament writings. Space prohibits us from examining passages from each of the twenty-seven New Testament books, but a sampling of texts should be sufficient to establish the general point.
The Pauline Letters
Given that the apostle Paul is the author of the most individual books of the New Testament, it seems appropriate to begin our discussions with his writings.
Galatians 1:1. When it comes to express declarations of Paul’s apostolic authority, perhaps no book is clearer than Galatians. As F. F. Bruce has observed, Paul begins this letter by “emphasizing the divine source of his apostolic commission.” Such emphatic language no doubt indicates that Paul’s apostolic credentials had been questioned by some in Galatia—something he intended to correct at the very outset of his letter. Thus, in Galatians 1:1 Paul goes out of his way to assure his readers that his apostolic commission was not grounded in human authority, for it came “not from men nor through man” (οὐκ ἀπ᾽ ἀνθρώπων οὐδὲ δι᾽ ἀνθρώπου). Such a statement would clarify that Paul’s calling was not dependent on the other apostles (compare Gal 1:17-20) nor did it come through any other human intermediary. On the contrary, it came directly “through Jesus Christ and God the Father” (διὰ Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ καὶ θεοῦ πατρὸς), a likely reference to his Damascus road experience (Acts 9:1-9). Once Paul establishes his unique authority to speak as an apostle of Jesus Christ, he applies this authority to the situation at hand. Galatians 1:6 indicates that the Galatians (or at least some of them) have begun to desert the gospel of grace and have turned to “a different gospel” (ἕτερον εὐαγγέλιον). Thus, Paul reassures them that “the gospel that was preached by me is not man’s gospel. For . . . I received it through a revelation of Jesus Christ” (Gal 1:11-12) and therefore it is not to be abandoned. Indeed, Paul pronounces divine judgment in 1:8 (ἀνάθεμα) on any who deny that the gospel he preaches is the true gospel. All of this leaves the Galatian readers with the unmistakable impression that Paul’s letter comes to them with the authority of Christ himself and is designed to correct their false thinking about the gospel message. As Ronald Fung observes, “According to Paul, the gospel which came to him as a result of God’s revelation of Christ . . . is the same as that which he was still preaching at the time of writing and to which he is now in his letter calling the readers to return.” Whether they would have called such a letter Scripture is beside the point—it bore the highest possible authority that a document could bear.
1 Thessalonians 2:13. In perhaps Paul’s earliest letter, he is explicit once again about his own authority as an apostle of Jesus Christ when he reminds the Thessalonians, “When you received the word of God, which you heard from us, you accepted it not as the word of men but as what it really is, the word of God” (1 Thess 2:13). By the phrase “word of God” (λόγον θεοῦ), Paul is no doubt referring to the authoritative “apostolic tradition” which they had already passed to the Thessalonians through their oral teaching and preaching. This is confirmed by Paul’s use of παραλαβόντες (“received”) which was a common term used to denote the reception of apostolic tradition (for example, 1 Cor 11:23; 15:1-3; Gal 1:9; Col 2:6-8; 2 Thess 3:6). Moreover, the phrase “word of God” is used elsewhere by Paul to refer to such authoritative divine teaching (for example, 1 Cor 14:36; Col 1:25; 2 Tim 2:9). Thus, commenting on 1 Thessalonians 2:13, Ernest Best is able to say, “Paul makes here the daring claim which identifies his words with God’s words.” But, if Paul’s apostolic instruction bears divine authority, are we to think that the instruction contained in 1 Thessalonians itself does not? Is this letter somehow exempt from that very authority? Three factors make this seem quite unlikely: (1) In 1 Thessalonians 4:2-8 Paul expressly states that he is reiterating his apostolic teaching about personal holiness that he previously delivered to them—teaching that came “through the Lord Jesus” (διὰ τοῦ κυρίου Ἰησου) and therefore could be regarded as “the will of God” (θέλημα τοῦ θεοῦ). Thus, 1 Thessalonians, a written letter, clearly presents itself as containing divine instruction. So much so that, after Paul finishes his instructions about holiness, he warns the Thessalonians that whoever disregards this instruction, “disregards not man but God” (1 Thess 4:8). Or, as Gordon Fee puts it, “To reject Paul’s teaching is to reject God himself.” (2) Paul acknowledges elsewhere that the mode of delivery for his apostolic instruction is secondary: “So then, brothers, stand firm and hold to the traditions (παραδόσεις) that you were taught by us, either by our spoken word or by our letter” (2 Thess 2:15). Indeed, at other points Paul indicates that his letters are more powerful than even his personal presence (2 Cor 10:10). (3) Paul ends his letter by exhorting the Thessalonians—with an oath before the Lord—to make sure this letter was read publicly to the church (1 Thess 5:27; compare 2 Cor 10:9; Col 4:16; Rev 1:3). Scholars have recognized that such a practice parallels the Jewish practice of reading portions of the Old Testament Scripture aloud in the public worship of the synagogue (Lk 4:17-20; Acts 13:15; 15:21). Of course, we have examples in the early church of letters being publicly read that did not bear such authority. However, Paul’s insistence that 1 Thessalonians be publicly read is coupled with his own overt claims to apostolic authority contained in the letter itself; this combination provides good reasons to think he viewed (and his audience would have viewed) this letter as bearing divine authority.
1 Corinthians 14:37-38. As we continue to sample key texts where Paul states his apostolic authority, we come to one of the most explicit: “If anyone thinks that he is a prophet, or spiritual, he should acknowledge that the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord. If anyone does not recognize this, he is not recognized” (1 Cor 14:37-38). Most noteworthy about this passage is that Paul directly addresses the precise nature of his writings and declares that they are a “command of the Lord” (κυρίοu ἐντολή). Such a phrase is common throughout the Old Testament as a reference to either the commands that come directly from God himself or to the commands he had given to Moses. Indeed, the very similar ἐντολῶν θεοῦ (“commandments of God”) is used by Paul earlier in this same letter to refer to authoritative instructions that come from God himself (1 Cor 7:19). Such constructions stand in contrast to other Pauline passages such as Titus 1:14 that refer to the ἐντολαῖς ἀνθρώπων (“commandments of people”). Thus, it seems clear that in 1 Corinthians 14:37-38 Paul is equating “the things I am writing (γράφω)” with the very words of God himself. So confident is Paul of his authority to speak for the Lord that he declares that anyone who does not recognize the authority of his writings is himself “not recognized” (ἀγνοεῖται). Fee calls such a pronouncement a “prophetic sentence of judgment on those who fail to heed this letter.” In a similar fashion, Raymond Collins argues that Paul is offering “a warning of eschatological disaster” for all who reject his letter. As noted in the prior chapter, this language once again reflects Paul’s role as a minister of the new covenant (2 Cor 3:6) as he threatens a “covenant lawsuit” against any members of the covenant who refuse to submit to his God-given authority. Archibald Robertson and Alfred Plummer sum up this entire passage: “[Paul] is conscious that what he says does not come from himself; he is the mouthpiece of Christ.”
2 Thessalonians 3:6, 14. As we have just observed in 1 Corinthians 14:37-38, Paul is very insistent that his own commands and teachings be obeyed—and is willing to pronounce judgment on those who refuse to do so. This trend is evident elsewhere in Paul’s writings, particularly 2 Thessalonians 3:6 and 14. Paul declares, “Now we command you (παραγγέλλομεν), brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that you keep away from any brother who is walking . . . not in accord with the tradition (παράδοσιν) that you received (παρελάβοσαν) from us” (2 Thess 3:6). As noted above, the “tradition” Paul is referring to here is no doubt the authoritative apostolic teaching that he has passed down to the Thessalonians—something that is confirmed by the use of key terminology such as παράδοσιν and παρελάβοσαν. For this reason, Paul once again declares a type of prophetic judgment against those who disobey such apostolic teaching. In this case, Paul asks the Thessalonians to “keep away from” (στέλλεσθαι) the disobedient brother, certainly a reference to some sort of church discipline, perhaps ostracism or even excommunication (though we cannot be sure). But it is not just Paul’s past teaching that has authoritative status, but also Paul’s present commands contained in this very letter. Indeed, Paul makes it clear that the very words he is writing in 2 Thessalonians 3:6 constitute a “command” (παραγγέλλομεν) that is being issued “in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.” Leon Morris observes that this construction makes the command “as authoritative as it can possibly be.” Thus we have here yet another example where divine authority is attached directly to Paul’s written words. Paul reiterates this point in 2 Thessalonians 3:14 when he offers a related warning: “If anyone does not obey what we say in this letter, take note of that person, and have nothing to do with him.” Not only does Paul expect his written letter to be obeyed (ὑπακούει), but insists again on church discipline for the one who disobeys, exhorting his listeners to “have nothing to do with him” (μὴ συναναμίγνυσθαι αὐτῷ). Charles Wanamaker is more direct: “Paul calls for their excommunication.”
By now, we can see a trend among many of these Pauline passages. On quite a regular basis Paul (1) affirms his own apostolic authority to speak for Christ, (2) makes it clear that this apostolic authority not only applies to his oral teaching, but is being employed in the very letters that he is writing, and (3) indicates that anyone who rejects his teachings (oral or written) is thereby rejecting the commands of Christ and subject to prophetic condemnation or excommunication. Such a scenario makes it difficult to accept McDonald’s claim that Paul “apparently was unaware of the divinely inspired status of his own advice.”
The Gospels
Given that the Gospels are a very different genre than the Epistles, and are “formally anonymous” in the body of the texts themselves, we would not expect the authors to provide the same type of direct and explicit statements about their own authority as Paul does in his letters. Indeed, the Gospel authors are decidedly behind the scenes and only rarely make appearances within the flow of the story. However, the formal anonymity of the Gospels need not be taken as evidence that their authors did not view these texts as bearing authority. Armin Baum has argued that the historical books of the New Testament (Gospels and Acts) were intentionally written as anonymous works in order to reflect the practice of the Old Testament Historical Books, which were themselves anonymous (as opposed to other Old Testament writings, such as the Prophets, which included the identity of the author). This makes the Gospels and Acts distinctive from most Greco-Roman biographies, which often included the author’s name (though not always). Such a stylistic device allowed the authors of the Gospels to “disappear” and to give “highest priority to their subject matter.” Thus, the anonymity of the Gospels, far from diminishing their scriptural authority, actually served to increase it by consciously placing the Gospels “in the tradition of Old Testament historiography.”
In addition to Baum’s argument, there are also other ways we can assess the degree to which the Gospel authors were aware of their own authority. Despite the fact that these Gospels are formally anonymous, there are still indications within the texts themselves—albeit more subtle than those in the Epistles—that provide indications about the identity of the authors and, more importantly, about their intention to pass along authoritative apostolic tradition about the person of Jesus of Nazareth.
Mark 1:1. As Robert Guelich has observed, the opening line of Mark’s Gospel “has spawned endless debates over the meaning of each word.” However, regardless of whether one considers “The beginning of the gospel (εὐαγγελίου) of Jesus Christ” to be the title of the book itself or connected to the verses that immediately follow, Robert Stein is correct to remind us that the opening line still informs the reader “that the entire work is to be understood as the good news about Jesus Christ.” Mark’s deliberate use of the term εὐαγγελίον is most noteworthy, for that term was not originally used among early Christians to refer to written texts, but rather was a reference to the authoritative message of the apostolic preaching. Thus, from the very beginning, the author of Mark makes it clear that his account is to be understood as the embodiment of that foundational apostolic message. The fact that the term εὐαγγελίον also occurs toward the end of the Gospel in Mark 14:9, creating an obvious literary inclusio, further reinforces the idea that the entire work is to be construed as a summary of the gospel message. This has led John Roberts and Andreas du Toit to observe that “we have here [in Mark 1:1] a really tremendous claim to authority.” Likewise, Martin Hengel argues that Mark’s Gospel presents itself as the “saving message” of Jesus Christ and therefore it “meets the requirement of the sufficiency of Holy Scripture.” But, there are even further lines of evidence that support this understanding of Mark’s Gospel:
1. The opening line of Mark’s Gospel matches language from the opening of some Old Testament prophetic books. For instance, Hosea 1:2 uses a similar formula: “The beginning (ἀρχὴ) of the words of the Lord to Hosea.” Gerd Theissen comments on Mark’s use of this formula, “The readers and hearers of Mark’s Gospel were familiar with such prophetic writings, which began with word of God coming to a human being.” By placing his own writings in the context of the Old Testament prophetic books, the author of Mark indicates that he too is bringing a message from the Lord.
2. The fact that Mark presents his Gospel as the embodiment of apostolic tradition is confirmed by the fact that it essentially follows the outline of Peter’s sermon in Acts 10:34-43, considered by many scholars today to be pre-Lukan tradition and therefore likely one of the earliest expressions of the church’s “gospel” message. Both Mark’s Gospel and Acts 10:34-43 begin with gospel terminology, speak of Jesus as the Messiah (“Christ”), draw connections to an Isaianic/Old Testament context, place the “beginning” of the ministry in Galilee, discuss John the Baptist’s role, and, of course, highlight Jesus’ redemptive ministry, death and resurrection. These parallels indicate that Mark’s Gospel would have been perceived as the embodiment of traditional apostolic material (particularly material connected to Peter). Guelich comments, “If the basic framework of Mark’s Gospel and the Scriptural context for his calling it the ‘gospel of Jesus Messiah’ corresponds to what one finds in the tradition behind Acts 10:34-43, the traditional character of Mark’s material used in writing the Gospel is even more apparent.”
3. The fact that Mark presents his Gospel as containing the apostolic message is also confirmed by internal indications that the material originates with the witness of the apostle Peter himself. Aside from the fact that Mark’s connection to Peter was well known among the early church fathers and is attested by other parts of the New Testament (1 Pet 5:13; Acts 12:12-17), the Gospel of Mark itself draws connections to Peter by forming another literary inclusio that centers on Peter himself—the first disciple mentioned in Mark is Peter (Mk 1:16) and the last disciple mentioned is Peter (Mk 16:7). Moreover, both of these mentions of Peter are quite emphatic—Mark goes out of his way to bring Peter to the forefront of each passage. This Petrine inclusio, combined with the inordinately high number of times the name Peter occurs in the Gospel and the manner in which Peter dominates the narratives of the disciples, makes it clear that Peter was to be understood as the “main eyewitness source behind Mark’s gospel.” Hengel observes, “Simon Peter is as a disciple named first and last in the Gospel to show that it is based on his tradition and therefore his authority.”
4. Another notable factor is the way that the author of Mark connects the story of Jesus with the story of Israel—something that all the Synoptics do to one degree or another. For Mark, the “beginning” of the gospel is not the birth of Jesus or even his public ministry, but the messianic expectations and longings of Israel as displayed in various Old Testament passages. In particular, Mark 1:2 portrays Jesus as the fulfillment of Yahweh’s promise to visit his people in Malachi 3:1 (compare Ex 23:20), even changing the original “the way before me” to “your way.” Likewise, Mark 1:3 cites Isaiah 40:3, where the people are to prepare the “way of the LORD”—again an indication that Jesus is the realization of Yahweh’s coming to his people Israel. Moreover, the heavenly voice and giving of the Spirit in Mark 1:10-11 indicate that Jesus is the Spirit-equipped servant of Isaiah 42:1 (compare Is 52:7; 61:1). While such Old Testament connections do not necessarily constitute an explicit claim by Mark to be writing with divine authority, they do constitute an effort by Mark to present his Gospel as the continuation of the biblical narrative. And this was no doubt recognized by those who read it. As N. T. Wright has observed, “The Jews of the period did not simply think of the biblical traditions atomistically, but were able to conceive of the story as a whole, and to be regularly looking for its proper conclusion.”
John 21:24. Unlike the Synoptics, John’s Gospel is more explicit about the identity of its author. In John 21:24 we are told: “This is the disciple who is bearing witness (μαρτυρῶν) about these things, and who has written (γράψας) these things.” Of course, the identity of this mysterious “beloved disciple” has engendered much academic debate, and there are various suggestions about who he might be. However, regardless of which suggestion one finds most compelling, it is quite clear that this individual is presented as being part of the inner apostolic circle. He was one of the first disciples called (Jn 1:35-40), present at the Last Supper (Jn 13:23), present at the crucifixion (Jn 19:26, 35), and was with Peter and Jesus at the very end of the Gospel (Jn 21:20). Indeed, the beloved disciple forms an “inclusio of eyewitness testimony” by appearing at the very beginning (Jn 1:35-40) and very end (Jn 21:20) of the Gospel, very much like Peter functions in the Gospel of Mark. Bauckham concludes that “the Gospel [of John] presents the Beloved Disciple as the disciple whose eyewitness reports are the most important source of the Gospel’s historical narrative.” Thus, at a minimum, John 21:24 makes it clear to the reader that the Gospel of John contains apostolic eyewitness testimony (μαρτυρῶν) from someone directly connected to Jesus’ inner circle. But there is more. The beloved disciple’s status as an authoritative “witness” (μαρτυρῶν) who has been there from the beginning also finds a striking parallel in John 15:27, when Jesus declares to his disciples, “You will also bear witness (μαρτυρεῖτε), because you have been with me from the beginning (ἀπ᾽ ἀρχῆς).” And the power of this witness comes from the Holy Spirit whom Jesus just promised to his disciples in the prior verse (Jn 15:26). It is helpful to see these two verses side by side:
You will also bear witness (μαρτυρεῖτε) because you have been with me from the beginning. (Jn 15:27)
This is the disciple who is bearing witness (μαρτυρῶν) about these things, and who has written these things. (Jn 21:24)
Thus, it seems that John 21:24 is a declaration to the reader that Jesus’ promise in 15:26-27 to send authoritative witnesses has been fulfilled—the very book they are reading is the authoritative testimony of Jesus’ Spirit-filled disciples. On the basis of all these connections, Jean Zumstein is able to declare that the Gospel of John “claims to have a status comparable to that which is ordinarily assigned to Scripture.” Likewise, Ridderbos sees John 21:24 as evidence that “the beloved disciple has written down his testimony and made it into Scripture.”
This conclusion is confirmed when we read John 21:24 alongside John 20:30-31. In the latter passage, the author acknowledges that while not everything is “written in this book” (γεγραμμένα ἐν τῷ βιβλίῳ τούτῳ), that which is written allows a person to “have life in his [Jesus’] name.” It is worth noting that this precise phrase γεγραμμένα ἐν τῷ βιβλίῳ τούτῳ occurs in a number of key Old Testament passages clearly referring to the Scriptures themselves:
In addition, this precise phrase occurs in the book of Revelation, which is widely considered to be written consciously as “Scripture.” In Revelation 22:18, the author offers an “inscriptional curse” on his writing, warning that it is not to be altered lest one suffer the plagues “described in this book (γεγραμμένας ἐν τῷ βιβλίῳ τούτῳ).” Although such parallels are not definitive, they are at least suggestive that the author of the Gospel of John saw himself in a prophetic role—like that of the Old Testament prophets—and therefore was concerned to write down the very words that would allow the reader to “have life in his name” (Jn 20:31). Thus, Keener concludes that John 20:30-31 indicates that “the author of the Fourth gospel may quietly suggest that his work belongs in the same category with the Scriptures of old.”
Luke 1:1-4. In a very similar manner to John’s Gospel, Luke also makes express claims to be passing down apostolic tradition. In the prologue, the author claims that the traditions included in his Gospel have been “delivered” (παρέδοσαν) to him by those “who from the beginning were eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” (οἱ ἀπ᾽ ἀρχῆς αὐτόπται καὶ ὑπηρέται γενόμενοι τοῦ λόγου). Some have suggested that this is a reference to two groups, first the “eyewitness” and then later the “ministers of the word,” thus making Luke himself a third-generation Christian. However, the fact that the singular article οἱ is used for both terms suggests that they refer to a single group. For this reason, most scholars view the “eyewitnesses and ministers of the word” as a clear reference to the apostles. This conclusion is supported by the fact that elsewhere the ministry of the apostles is described with very similar language:
1. Although Luke uses the rare word “eyewitnesses” (αὐτόπται) in the prologue, Joel Green argues that he probably did this in deference to historiographical concerns and has in mind the general concept of “witnesses” (μάρτυρες), which he uses so commonly elsewhere to describe the role of the apostles. Luke–Acts is filled with references to the apostles as God’s foundational “witnesses” to his mighty acts in Christ (Acts 1:8; 3:15; 5:32; 10:39-41; 26:16). Particularly noteworthy is that Luke 24:48, the very end of the Gospel, also describes the apostles as “witnesses” (μάρτυρες), thus forming an impressive literary inclusio around the whole book. This inclusio is strengthened by the fact that in both the beginning and the end of Luke the apostles are witnesses to the same thing: how the Scriptures have been “fulfilled” in the ministry of Christ. In Luke 1:1-2 we are told that apostles were (eye)witnesses to the things which have been “fulfilled” (πεπληροφορημένων) in their midst, and in Luke 24:44 we are told that the apostles were witnesses to things that have been “fulfilled” (πληρωθῆναι) in their midst (compare Lk 24:48). Such an inclusio suggests that Luke intends his Gospel to be taken as an apostolic witness to how the Old Testament Scriptures have been realized and completed by the ministry of Jesus Christ. In this sense, Luke’s writings could be conceived as a “sequel” to the historical narrative of the Old Testament. As Marshall observes, “[Luke] regarded his work as depicting the continuation of the history recorded in the Old Testament.” Craig Evans makes the same point: “[Luke] intends his writing to be read alongside of the biblical story; indeed he believes it has become part of the story.”
2. Acts 1:22 describes the two main characteristics of apostles—namely that they must be present from the “beginning” (ἀρξάμενος) and must be foundational “witnesses” (μάρτυρα) to the resurrection. This forms a striking parallel with those “who from the beginning were eyewitnesses” in Luke 1:2 (compare Acts 10:37). Additionally, this same combination occurs in John 15:27, when Jesus describes his disciples, “And you also will bear witness (μαρτυρεῖτε), because you have been with me from the beginning (ἀπ᾽ ἀρχῆς).”
3. As Luke describes the commission that Jesus gave to the apostle Paul in Acts 26:16, he describes Paul as a “minister and witness” (NASB; ὑπηρέτην καὶ μάρτυρα), quite similar to the “eyewitnesses and ministers” (αὐτόπται καὶ ὑπηρέται) in Luke 1:2.
4. Acts 6:4 refers to the apostles as those devoted to “the ministry of the word” (τῇ διακονίᾳ τοῦ λόγου), a phrase strikingly similar to that of Luke 1:2 where they are described as “ministers of the word” (ὑπηρέται τοῦ λόγου). Indeed, as noted above in our discussion of 1 Thessalonians 2:13, the “word” is typically used throughout the New Testament to describe the authoritative apostolic message. Fitzmyer comments on the use of this phrase in Luke 1:2: “Even though ‘the word’ may be intended here merely as a ‘general term applicable to the story of Christian origins’ . . . The use which the absolute form ho logos acquires in Acts (for example, [Acts] 8:4; 10:36; 11:19; 14:25; compare Lk 8:12-15) gives it the significant overtone of the ‘word of God.’” It should be observed that, in Acts 1:1, Luke looks back and describes his own Gospel account with this same term (tὸν λόγον).
5. As also observed in the discussion of 1 Thessalonians 2:13 above, such language like παρέδοσαν (“delivered”) in Luke 1:2 is used widely throughout the New Testament to speak of the passing along or handing down of apostolic tradition.
All these considerations suggest that Luke is presenting his Gospel as the embodiment of the authoritative apostolic “word” that had been delivered and entrusted to him. Of course, Luke acknowledges that he is constructing his own account of this tradition—he is offering an “orderly” (καθεξῆς) arrangement. Even so, Luke does not write as a third-generation outsider, but as one who has received his material directly from the apostles. David Moessner makes the point that the word παρηκολουθηκότι is not so much an indication that Luke “investigated” these things but rather that he is “one who ‘has been steeped’ or ‘trained’ in those particular traditions.” Thus, Luke presents himself as having been instructed in “all” (πᾶσιν) these traditions “for some time” (ἄνωθεν)—most likely from the apostle Paul (and perhaps others). In this way, Luke gives the reader the “distinguishing credential” for why he should be trusted. He speaks with an apostolic voice.
It is particularly revelant for Luke to produce these apostolic credentials if he is to accomplish the purpose for which he is writing, namely that Theophilus might have “certainty” (ἀσφάλειαν) concerning the “things you have been taught” (κατηχήθης λόγων). Bock argues that such language indicates that Theophilus is a believer (perhaps newly converted) who needs reassurance about the “teaching he had previously received.” Similarly, Marshall argues that Theophilus likely was the recipient of formal Christian catechetical (κατηχήθης) instruction. If so, then Luke is not writing simply to restate raw historical facts, but is writing with a “theological intention.” Luke is presenting his Gospel as an apostolic source for encouraging and reassuring Christians about the good news they have believed—that is, it was a book written for the church. It was not just history, but salvation-history. As Fitzmyer observes, Luke’s Gospel “is not that of a secular Hellenistic historian . . . [but] far more in the mode of OT biblical history.”
All of these considerations suggest Luke is presenting his Gospel as an apostolic document designed to show how Christ completes the story of the Old Testament and thereby to bolster confidence in foundational Christian truths. Evans sums it up: “Luke does not see himself primarily as a biographer, nor even a historian. The Lukan evangelist is a writer of Scripture, a hagiographer who is proclaiming what God has ‘accomplished among us.’”
Matthew 1. Unlike the other three Gospels, Matthew contains fewer internal clues that it is passing along apostolic tradition (Mt 9:9; 10:3). Nevertheless, there are still indications that this Gospel was written with the intention of completing the Old Testament story. Most notable in this regard is the unique way that Matthew begins his Gospel, with an opening “title” (Mt 1:1) followed by a genealogy (Mt 1:2-17). Davies and Allison argue that Matthew’s very first phrase, Βίβλος γενέσεως, is not so much a reference to the genealogy that follows but to the book as a whole. This is the way the phrase is used in Genesis 2:4 and 5:1; it does not refer to a genealogy per se but to the primeval history of God’s people. In addition, argue Davies and Allison, the term γενέσεως would naturally lead the reader to think of the LXX title of the book of Genesis, Γένεσις. They comment, “Genesis was a Βίβλος, and its name was Γένεσις. One is therefore led to ask whether the introductory use of Βίβλος γενέσεως would not have caused Matthew’s readers to think of the Torah’s first book and to anticipate that some sort of ‘new genesis,’ a genesis of Jesus Christ, would follow.” Thus, the opening phrase of Matthew is best understood as “Book of the New Genesis wrought by Jesus Christ.” Such a beginning suggests that Matthew is intentionally writing in a scriptural style—he viewed his book, and wanted his audience to view his book, as continuing the biblical story. Thus Willi Marxsen is able to declare, “By means of this phrase therefore the work [Matthew] is presented almost as ‘Holy Scripture’—by analogy with the Old Testament.”
The fact that Matthew appears to be molding his Gospel after the pattern of Old Testament books is confirmed by the fact that he turns immediately to a genealogy, placing the Jesus story into the story of Israel, with a special emphasis on David. The genealogy, of course, is a well-known Old Testament genre that is frequently used to demonstrate the historical unfolding of God’s redemptive activities among his people. In this regard, Matthew’s closest parallel is the book of Chronicles, which also begins with a genealogy that has an emphasis on the Davidic line. If by the first century Chronicles was regarded as the final book in the Hebrew canon, as some scholars have argued, then Matthew’s Gospel would certainly be a fitting sequel. An Old Testament canon ending with Chronicles would have served as a reminder to the Jews that Israel’s return from exile documented in Ezra–Nehemiah is not the full story—it is only a physical return, not a spiritual one. The hearts of the people still needed to be changed. Israel remained in spiritual exile. Such an ending would have placed Israel in an eschatological posture, looking ahead to the time when the Messiah, the son of David, would come to Jerusalem and bring full deliverance to his people.
If so, then Matthew’s opening chapter would be a clear indication that he is intending to finish this story. He is picking up where the Old Testament ended, with a focus on David and the deliverance of Israel. Moreover, the Great Commission at the very end of Matthew’s Gospel (Mt 28:18-20) is a vivid echo of the end of 2 Chronicles (2 Chron 36:23), leading Greg Beale to argue that “Matthew constructs his Gospel partly to reflect the beginning and ending of Chronicles.” Regardless of whether one accepts that Chronicles was the final book in the Hebrew canon, the close connections between Matthew and Chronicles remain. Indeed, on this basis, Davies and Allison conclude that Matthew “thought of his gospel as a continuation of the biblical history—and also, perhaps, that he conceived of his work as belonging to the same literary category as the scriptural cycles treating of OT figures.”
If indeed Matthew is intending to record God’s long-awaited deliverance of his people Israel—a second exodus, if you will—then it should come as little surprise that Matthew is so keen to portray Jesus as a second Moses. Such Moses typology in the Gospel of Matthew is well-documented; for example, Jesus’ life is threatened as a baby and yet he is rescued (Ex 2:1-10; Mt 2:1-18); Jesus recapitulates the original exodus from Egypt (Hos 11:1; Mt 2:15); Jesus has a time of hidden preparation prior to public ministry (Ex 3:1; Mt 2:23; 3:13); Jesus launches his ministry by passing through waters of baptism in the desert (Ex 14; Mt 3:13-17; compare 1 Cor 10:2); Jesus performs miracles and feeds the people in the wilderness (Ex 16; Num 11; Mt 14:13-20), and so on. It is particularly noteworthy that in Matthew 5:1 Jesus delivers his “law” after ἀνέβη εἰς τὸ ὄρος καὶ καθίσαντος (“he went up on the mountain, and . . . sat down”). With this same language, Moses is regularly portrayed as going up to the mountain to receive God’s law (Ex 19:3, 12-13; 24:12, 13, 18; 34:2; Num 27:12; Deut 1:24, 41, 43; 5:5; 9:9), and even is described as having sat down there (Deut 9:9; compare b. Meg. 21a; b. Sotah 49a). Such imagery surely has implications for how the teachings of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew (and the Gospel as a whole) are to be received. Jesus is presented as the new (and ultimate) deliverer with a new and authoritative law from God. This has even led Smith and others to reconsider the possibility that Matthew divides up his Gospel into five main teaching discourses in order to parallel the five books of Moses, thereby presenting his Gospel as the “definitive revelation” of Jesus.
Other New Testament Writings
Although there is not enough space available to treat every remaining book in the New Testament corpus, we shall highlight a few more places where the author seems aware of the apostolic authority of his own writing.
Hebrews 2:1-4. When it comes to the book of Hebrews, the identity of the author has dominated scholarly discussions. Rather than following Origen’s wise conclusion that “But who wrote the epistle, in truth God knows,” scholars have continued to make suggestions ranging from Apollos to Priscilla to Luke. Unfortunately, such a limited focus has led many to overlook a far more important fact about the author, namely that he presents himself as directly dependent upon apostolic tradition. When referring to the “great salvation” that his letter explores, the author indicates that this message of salvation “was declared at first by the Lord, and it was attested (ἐβεβαιώθη) to us (εἰς ἡμᾶς) by those who heard, while God also bore witness by signs and wonders and various miracles and by gifts of the Holy Spirit” (Heb 2:3-4). There is little doubt that “those who heard” directly from Jesus is a reference to the apostles themselves, whose own ministry was accompanied by signs, wonders and manifestations of the Spirit (Acts 2:43; 4:30; 5:12; 6:8; 14:3; 15:12; Rom 15:19; 2 Cor 12:12; compare Lk 1:2). The use of the term ἐβεβαιώθη (“attested”) highlights the authority of these individuals; they did not simply speak the message to our author, but they “confirmed” or “validated” or “guaranteed” the message to him. The phrase “to us” (εἰς ἡμᾶς) need not imply that the author received this apostolic tradition together with his audience; the same plural language is used in Luke 1:2 and 1 John 1:2 and does not require the inclusion of the audience.
Thus, the author portrays himself as being in a very similar position to that of Mark or Luke—authoritative apostolic testimony has been entrusted to him and he is now passing it along to his readers. As Donald Hagner observes, “In this regard he [the author of Hebrews] may be likened to Luke.” Likewise, George Buchanan observes that the author was delivering what “he had received directly from the apostles themselves.” The connection between our author and the apostolic circle is confirmed by the fact that his traveling companion is none other than Timothy (Heb 13:23), likely to be the Timothy who knew and travelled with Paul and Silas (Acts 16:3; 17:14; Rom 16:21; 1 Cor 4:17; 2 Cor 1:19). If so, then our author, although not a direct eyewitness to Jesus, presents himself as an apostolic coworker who participated directly in the apostolic mission. This stands in contrast to writers such as Ignatius and Clement of Rome, who sharply distinguish between the apostolic time period and their own time period. They look back to the ministry of the apostles and do not present themselves as having participated in it. Thus we should not be surprised if the earliest Christians would have received Hebrews as an apostolic book. Indeed, Origen understood the book in precisely this way when he suggested it was written by someone who was part of the apostolic circle, likely a companion and disciple of Paul himself. This would explain why Hebrews was so closely associated with the apostle within early Christianity.
In addition to the authorial claims of this book, it should also be observed that the author actually presents the terms of the new covenant (through Christ) in the same mode and manner as the terms of the old covenant (through Moses) were presented in the book of Deuteronomy. In his recent study, David Allen not only demonstrates that Hebrews is dependent on the text and motifs of Deuteronomy, but he also shows that the entire structure of Deuteronomy—and its call for God’s people to choose between life and death—is “re-presented” in Hebrews with a Christocentric purpose. As a result, Allen concludes that Hebrews “does not just use Deuteronomy, it becomes a new Deuteronomy.” In essence, the book of Hebrews reworks Deuteronomy and reshapes the story of Israel for a new generation, thereby becoming a new torah.
2 Peter 3:2. An oft-overlooked text in the discussion of the canon is 2 Peter 3:2, in which the reader is asked to submit to “the predictions of the holy prophets and the commandment of the Lord and Savior through your apostles.” The manner in which the author juxtaposes “prophets” of the old covenant and the “apostles” of the new covenant shows that he views them as two equal sources of divine authority. This suggests that 2 Peter understands divine revelation to be in two distinct phases or epochs—perhaps an allusion to the beginnings of a bicovenantal canon. Given that the “predictions of the holy prophets” is a clear reference to written texts (Old Testament Prophets), we must at least consider the possibility that the “commandment of the Lord (ἐντολῆς τοῦ κυρίου) . . . through your apostles” might be a reference (at least in part) to written texts. The immediate context lends support to this possibility when just a few verses later the author refers to written apostolic texts, namely Paul’s letters, and even regards them as Scripture (2 Pet 3:16). In fact, the phrase ἐντολῆς τοῦ κυρίου finds a notable parallel in Paul: “If anyone thinks that he is a prophet, or spiritual, he should acknowledge that the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord (κυρίου ἐντολή)” (1 Cor 14:37).
In addition, just one verse earlier, our author refers to another written apostolic text, namely his own prior letter (2 Pet 3:1; compare 1 Pet 1:1). Now, if the author of 2 Peter regards written apostolic texts as authoritative Scripture (2 Pet 3:16), and he believes that his readers should submit to the commands of the apostles (2 Pet 3:2), then that has implications for his own writings given that he explicitly refers to himself as an apostle (2 Pet 1:1) and recounts his eyewitness apostolic credentials (2 Pet 1:16-18). Are we to think that the author of 2 Peter intended Paul’s letters to be regarded as authoritative but not his own? Would the readers of 2 Peter have regarded Paul’s apostolic writings as authoritative but disregarded the authority of the very apostolic writing they were reading (especially given Peter’s status in early Christianity)? No, all these factors indicate that the author of 2 Peter not only regarded Paul’s writings as supremely authoritative, but would have regarded his own writings with the same authority.
1 John 1:1-4. The apostolic authority of John’s first epistle is evident from the opening verses:
That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked at and have touched with our hands, concerning the Word of life—the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify (μαρτυροῦμεν) to it and proclaim (ἀπαγγέλλομεν) to you the eternal life (1 Jn 1:1-2).
A number of aspects of these verses support the fact that the author is putting forth his apostolic credentials: (1) The epistle employs vivid eyewitness language—hearing, seeing, even touching—confirming the fact that the author was present to witness the ministry of Jesus from the beginning (ἀρχῆς) and thus fits the criteria of an apostle (compare Lk 1:2; 24:48; Acts 1:21-22; 4:20). Marshall observes, “There cannot be any real doubt that the writer claims to have been an eyewitness of the earthly ministry of Jesus.” (2) As an eyewitness, the author is able to do something else that is central to the apostolic office, namely to “testify” or to be a “witness” (μαρτυροῦμεν) to what he has seen and heard. As noted above, the New Testament is filled with references to the apostles as Christ’s foundational witnesses (Lk 24:48; Acts 1:8; 1:22; 3:15; 5:32; 10:39-41; 26:16). Particularly noteworthy is that John’s Gospel—to which this letter clearly alludes in these opening verses—portrays the apostles as witnesses (Jn 15:27; 21:24). (3) The apostolic identity of the author is further confirmed by the fact that he does not only testify/witness, but also takes on the more authoritative task of “proclaiming” (ἀπαγγέλλομεν). Stott notes, “In order to testify, the apostles must have seen and heard Christ for themselves; in order to proclaim they must have received a commission from him.” (4) The author describes his message as τοῦ λόγου τῆς ζωῆς (“the word of life”). As noted above, the word is typically used throughout the New Testament to describe the authoritative apostolic message (Lk 1:2; Acts 6:4; 1 Thess 2:13). No doubt the “word of life” is also an allusion to Jesus himself (John 1:1); but there is no need to choose between these options for “the message and the person are ultimately identical.” (5) The author uses the collective “we”—a reference to the fact that he is speaking not simply as an individual, but as part of a distinctive group that has been commissioned to “witness” and “proclaim” the “word of life.” Again, it is difficult to avoid the implication that the apostles are in view here. F. F. Bruce comments, “The language John uses is the language of apostolic witness.” (6) The authority of the author’s message is bolstered in 1 John 1:5 when he states that he received his message directly from Jesus himself: “This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you.” In other words, the author wants to make it clear that his message is actually Christ’s message and therefore bears his authority.
When taken as a whole, all these considerations suggest that the author is plainly putting forth his apostolic credentials. With that foundation laid, he is then able to declare, “And we are writing (γράφομεν) these things so that our joy may be complete” (1 Jn 1:4). Thus, we have a clear example again of the apostolic message being put into written form (compare Jn 20:31; 21:24) which would have been received by its readers as authoritative as the apostles themselves. Such language led Bultmann to affirm, “The author of this epistle is conscious of himself as having a personal authority, that is, as being a representative of the bearers of the tradition.”
Revelation 1:1-3. The most explicit claim for a book’s authority no doubt comes from the author of Revelation. The opening line of the book directly claims that it is the inspired prophecy of Jesus Christ delivered to John by an angel (Rev 1:1). Consequently, there is a divine blessing attached with this book: “Blessed is the one who reads aloud the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear, and who keep what is written in it, for the time is near” (Rev 1:3). Moreover, as discussed in chapter two above, the authority of this book is heightened by the inclusion of an inscriptional curse at the end, warning the reader to neither add to nor take away from this document lest they suffer divine judgment (Rev 22:18-19). On the basis of these explicit statements, even McDonald is willing to acknowledge that Revelation “claims for itself such a lofty position that [it] would come close to the notion of inspiration and Scripture.”
Conclusion
The purpose of this chapter has been to address the oft-repeated claim that the New Testament authors were unaware of their own authority and were only concerned to write occasional documents, and that it was only at a later time that such documents began to take on a “scriptural” authority in the church (even though the original authors had no such intentions). In contrast to such claims, this chapter has argued that there are a number of instances where the New Testament authors are quite aware of their own authority. Indeed, they expressly understood their writings to be apostolic in nature—that is, they were consciously passing down the authoritative apostolic message. Given the authoritative role of the apostles in early Christianity, and the manner in which they were commissioned to speak for Christ, an apostolic writing would bear the highest possible authority. Indeed, it would bear Christ’s authority. Thus, it matters not whether the New Testament authors specifically used the term “Scripture” when speaking of their own books. When Paul says “the things I am writing to you are a command of the Lord” (1 Cor 14:37), it would have functionally been the same as Scripture. As Barton observes, “phenomenologically, they were Scripture, having the kind of authority and standing for Christians that holy books do have.”
Of course, the narrow purpose of this chapter must be kept in mind. Our argument here is simply that the New Testament writings, generally speaking, were intended to be documents with an authority equivalent to that of Scripture. This does not constitute an argument that these books were, in fact, Scripture—that would be a separate (and far lengthier) discussion. We have dealt only with the intentions/self-awareness of the New Testament authors, not whether their self-awareness was accurate. After all, authors of other writings during this general time frame may have also viewed themselves as writing Scripture (for example, Maccabees, Shepherd of Hermas). Nevertheless, the self-awareness of the New Testament authors does have important implications for how we understand the development of the New Testament canon. Throughout this volume we have argued for an “intrinsic” model of canon, namely that the idea of a New Testament was not a later ecclesiastical development but something driven by forces already inherent to first-century Christianity. If the New Testament writers were aware of their own authority, then this gives further confirmation to the intrinsic model. Although they could not have foreseen that the church would be guided by exactly twenty-seven books, they did intend to write books that would guide the church. Thus, the existence of a new covenantal deposit of books was not due simply to Marcion’s heresies or to later church politics, but to the intentional activities of the New Testament writers themselves.