Michael Kruger's The Question of Canon - Chapter 5 Summary and Conclusion

This is the longest chapter in the book. Instead of giving Kruger’s arguments in this chapter, to keep things as short as possible, I’m largely going to be sharing his conclusions in each section. If the reader wants to see how he argues for these conclusions (which he does very persuasively in my opinion) I strongly suggest that they purchase a copy of The Question of Canon and read it for themselves.

The last chapter asks the question, “When did New Testament writings first begin to be viewed as Scripture?” According to the extrinsic model - Kruger calls this view the “big bang model” of canon - it was not really until the end of the second century that these documents came to be viewed as Scripture. Of all the chapters in the book, I think the average reader will probably find this chapter the most interesting, because Kruger goes through sources prior to the end of the second century to show that these writings were regarded as Scriptural and authoritative at a time when the extrinsic model should regard as shocking.

Irenaeus and His Contemporaries
Kruger begins with Irenaeus, whom most advocates of the extrinsic model offer as the singular most important figure. To these scholars, “Irenaeus is an innovator” (157). They see his naming of a canon as something prior Christians would have been scandalized by. But Kruger argues that “there are indications that books were received as Scripture prior to the time of Irenaeus.”

One of the first things Kruger argues for is that Irenaeus does not see himself as an innovator, but as passing along that which he himself has already received. After sorting through some of the opposition that is often made to Irenaeus in this regard, Kruger concludes that “there are no reasons to regard Irenaeus’ most controversial claim - that the church receives four and only four Gospels - to be a new idea in his day” (162).

Kruger then looks to the Muratorian fragment, arguing that its existence contemporaneous with Irenaeus “is problematic.” It means that there was already “restriction and limitation” to the canon by 180 A.D. and that it was not Irenaeus who was responsible for it.

Another important figure is Theophilus of Antioch, who wrote an important document, To Autolycus in 177 A.D. Kruger notes that “Theophilus places the ‘Gospels’ on the same level of inspiration and authority as the Old Testament Prophets” (164). He also puts a citation of Luke 18:27 alongside of “citations from Genesis and Isaiah” (165) which shows the significance he attached to the Gospel writings.

Clement of Alexandria, writing in 198 A.D. (“slightly later than Irenaeus”), affirmed many books of the New Testament canon. “He received all thirteen Epistles of Paul, Hebrews, Acts, 1 Peter, 1 and 2 John, Jude and Revelation” (168).

So far in the book, Kruger helpfully summarizes: “According to…influential and geographically diverse sources at the end of the second century - there was a core collection of scriptural books in place that the church fathers themselves did not view as newly established” (169).

Prior to Irenaeus
In the next section, Kruger goes back before Irenaeus. “If the New Testament canon did not pop into existence overnight, then we should expect to find some remnants of its existence during this earlier time period” (169). Justin Martyr, for starters, in 150-160 A.D. knew Paul’s letters. In addition, “Justin also seems to show knowledge of Acts, 1 Peter, Hebrews and Revelation” (176) and regards them with the same authority he regarded Old Testament books.

Papias, writing around 125 A.D. was a friend of Polycarp and “had heard the apostle John preach…he knew the daughters of Philip the Evangelist…[and] plainly declares that the source of his information is ‘the Elder’ who is likely to be ‘John the Elder’” (182). Papias is helpful with regard to Mark’s Gospel, because he “assures the reader of the reliability of Mark’s account when he says that Mark made sure ‘to leave nothing out that he heard’” (183-184). “It appears that Papias also knew 1 John, 1 Peter, Revelation and also some Pauline epistles…[and] would have known John’s Gospel” (186). All of this “suggests a Fourfold Gospel in the first half of the second century” (186).

The Epistle of Barnabas, believed to have been written around 130 A.D., appears to cite Matthew 22:14. Kruger spends some time arguing that this is probably a written source, not an oral source as some scholars speculate.

Ignatius, writing in 110 A.D., seems to have had an extensive knowledge of the writings of Paul. One scholar is “quite confident that Ignations knew at least four of these - 1 Corinthians, Ephesians, and 1 and 2 Timothy” (188). Kruger says that he also “seems to know Romans, Philippians and Galatians…the key point is that Ignatius not only has a Pauline letter collection, but mentions it to the Ephesian church with full expectation that they are also aware of it” (190).

Polycarp, writing around 110 A.D. “distinghishes Paul’s authority as an Apostle from his own authority as a bishop” (193). “Scholars generally agree that Polycarp knew Romans, 1 Corinthians, Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians, and 1 and 2 Timothy. Again, Polycarp may have known more letters of Paul than these, but he simply doesn’t use them in his letter to the Philippians” (194). There are also “indications that Polycarp regarded Pauline letters as ‘Scripture’” (195). “Polycarp also knew 1 Peter and 1 John…[and] does appear to quote from some of the Synoptic Gospels on a number of occasions” (196). It is highly significant that these things are happening so near to the time of their writing. This would have been within 50-60 years of the time of the writing of most of the books of the New Testament!

1 Clement, written in 96 A.D., uses many New Testament texts. “At a minimum, scholars are agreed that 1 Clement certainly uses 1 Corinthians, Romans and Hebrews, and a number of scholars find it probable that he also knew Galatians, Ephesians, Philippians and Titus” (197). One scholar argues that Clement knew all of Paul’s letters. Kruger finds it significant that, like Ignatius, “clearly expects that his audience also has access to the very same ones” (197). Among the most amazing things Kruger quotes is a passage from 1 Clement 47:1-3 where he refers to 1 Cor, telling his readers to read Paul’s epistle and attributing inspiration to Paul by saying he sent the letter “pneumatikos” or “in the Spirit” (198). He also appears to be exhorting his people to read Paul’s letter publicly in the worship service.

Kruger also goes back further than 96 to the actual New Testament itself. He points to 2 Peter 3:16 to show that Peter regarded Paul’s writings as Scripture. He also points to 1 Timothy 5:18, arguing that Paul quotes from Luke 10:7 in the second half of the verse. Even if the reader is skeptical about Kruger’s argument here, he points out that “it should still be acknowledged that 1 Timothy at least regards some book…to be Scripture alongside the Old Testament” (202).

All of this, of course, lends credence to Kruger’s contention in this chapter that “the origin of a new corpus of scriptural books should not be conceived of as a ‘big bang’ type of event, extrinsically imposed on the church, but as something that grew gradually over time with roots that extend further back in the history of the church than previously allowed” (158).

Conclusion
Having pressed back hard on these five major tenets of the extrinsic (“big bang”) model of canon, Kruger draws out three major conclusions.

1. “Historical investigations, like scientific ones, often operate on the basis of models, or what we might call paradigms” (209). His point here being that he hopes proponents of the extrinsic model will acknowledge the place of presuppositions in their own argumentation and especially in their standards of what they will and will not accept as evidence.

2. “There are enough problems with the extrinsic model to raise serious questions about its viability” (209). This doesn’t mean that the extrinsic model doesn’t have positive aspects to contribute, but that it ought not to hold the field in canon studies.



3. “More scholarly consideration should be given to what we have called the intrinsic model” (209).



Kruger offers his concluding paragraph:



The intrinsic model argues that the idea of canon was built into the DNA of the Christian religion and thus emerged quite naturally. In this sense, the canon was like a seedling sprouting from the soil of early Christianity—although it was not fully a tree until the fourth century, it was there, in nuce, from the beginning (210).

Michael Kruger's The Question of Canon - Chapter 4 Summary

It is popular in modern canonical studies to believe that the New Testament authors “wrote unaware of their own authority and without any intention that their writings would be ‘Scripture’” (119). In fact, I can attest that as a new Christian I believed this for years, not really knowing any better. And a form critic I was not! The chapter is one that I would guess even average Christians could read and benefit a great deal from.

Kruger argues in this chapter of The Question of Canon that “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” (121). Kruger says that if one requires the word “Scripture” to be used in order to consider a reference one bearing apostolic/divine authority, then that misses the point that these authors “wrote books that they understood to contain the new apostolic revelation about Jesus Christ and therefore to have supreme authority in the church” (122).

a. Paul’s Letters. Kruger says, for example (and demonstrates well, I think) that Paul’s writings bear numerous marks of Apostolic self-awareness. Not only does he openly defend his apostolic authority and the divine nature of his message in Galatians, but in 1 Thessalonians he insists that his letter be read publicly in the same way it was customary to read the Old Testament texts. Kruger summarizes several pages analyzing the Pauline letters in three ways: “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 teaching (oral or written) is thereby rejecting the commands of Christ and subject to prophetic condemnation or excommunication” (129-130).

b. The Gospels. It’s common to point to the anonymity of the Gospels as a negative against their authenticity as Scripture. However, the Old Testament history books such as Chronicles, Kings, Samuel, etc. are anonymous. “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’” (130-131).

The Gospel of Matthew, Kruger argues, saw itself as completing the Old Testament story. He bases this on the unique way that Matthew begins his Gospel. His discussion of this issue is worth the reader spending time over. His comparison between the opening words of Matthew in the Greek and the LXX name of the book of Genesis are very insightful, as well.

The Gospel of Mark, Kruger points out, begins with language that “matches language from the opening of some Old Testament prophetic books” (132). He also spends time drawing out the connection of Mark to the Apostle Peter by pointing to the similarity of the structure of Mark and Peter’s sermon in Acts 10:34-43.

The Gospel of Luke has an introduction with highly significant content. For starters, he is confident that what he is conveying is apostolic in origin, using the uncommon word “eyewitnesses.” Kruger concludes his section on Luke by suggesting that “Luke is presenting his Gospel as the embodiment of the authoritative apostolic ‘word’ that had been delivered and entrusted to him” (141). Later, Kruger says, “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” (143).

The Gospel of John. Kruger spends some time speaking of authorship, but what is of greater interest is John 21:24, which Kruger says seems to be “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” (137, his italics). He also mentions something that I found very interesting - namely, the phrase γεγραμμένα ἐν τῷ βιβλίῳ τούτῳ doesn’t occur only in John 20:30, but also in LXX Deut. 28:58; 2 Chron. 34:21; and Jer. 25:13. He calls these parallels “suggestive that the author of the Gospel of John saw himself in a prophetic role” (138, his italics).

c. Other Texts. Kruger also spends time looking at Revelation 1:1-3, 1 John 1:1-4, 2 Peter 3:2, and Hebrews 2:1-4 to support his thesis, though readers will have to get the book if they want to see Kruger’s discussion of these specific texts. I found the discussion interesting, but we need to leave some mystery so folks will actually buy the book!

Kruger concludes the chapter by bringing things back home. It’s important to remember that Kruger’s larger purpose here is to defend the intrinsic model of canon. “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” (154).

Michael Kruger's The Question of Canon - Chapter 3 Summary

In Chapter three of The Question of Canon, Michael Kruger is concerned to address the popular notion among some scholars that early Christianity was “a predominantly, if not exclusively, oral religion that would have been hesitant to place value on written documents.” As readers who have followed the previous two posts can see, this argument by advocates of the extrinsic model of canon fits nicely into the overall case made by the extrinsic advocates that a written canon of Scripture would have been foreign to the earliest Christians. This chapter is largely negative in the sense that Kruger is interested in casting doubt on the three pillars of this above mentioned claim.

Claim #1: Early Christianity was an Oral Culture. Pointing to the fact that the majority of people other than leaders could not read, these critics go so far as to argue that early Christians would have thought that a written medium of communication “might compromise the Gospel” (to use Kelber’s words; 85). While Kruger acknowledges that this is largely true (Christians were not as literate as today, and oral tradition did have a high place in that time period), these facts are not “a sufficient basis to characterize it as having an ‘oral state of mind’” (86). Kruger argues that (quoting Mary Beard) “the number of literates is a secondary issue” (87).

a. Kruger argues that there is nothing self-contradictory about a culture where a high value is placed on text but also the majority of that culture or community cannot actually read. These are not mutually exclusive features for a community to possess. In fact, argues Kruger, “they exist within a symbiotic and mutually reinforcing relationship” (89).


b. Kruger also argues that early Christianity, contrary to the popular perception, was actually a highly textual culture. In support of this he points to (1) Early Christian writings, (2) the obvious textuality of the Old Testament, and (3) early evidence that Christians were producing books. In the end, he says, “to reconstruct the history of Christianity solely through the lens of orality is to significantly distort the history of Christianity” (103).



Claim #2: Early Christians Expressly Stated their Aversion to Writing. Two primary examples of this thinking come from Papias and from the Apostle Paul. Kruger points out the irony, of course, of someone expressing their dislike for written words in writing. Regarding the Papias quote, he says that “for Papias the ‘living voice’ is not antithetical to written texts, but often the foundation for them.” The quote from Paul that is often pointed to is in 2 Cor. 3:6 where he says, “the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life,” implying that this passage teaches Paul’s great dislike of literal letters. Kruger spends more time on this passage than I think he needs to, but he does conclude, accurately, that “Paul’s contrast between these two mediums is really a contrast between two covenants,” the Mosaic covenant and the new covenant (110). 


Claim #3: Early Christians Expected the Imminent Return of Christ. Implied in this argument is that if they believed the world was about to end, Christians would have had no reason, early on, to produce written works. This thinking is heavily influenced by Albert Schweitzer and Bart Ehrman. Kruger responds by pointing out

a. that one must understand the apocalyptic language of the New Testament by taking into account the already/not yet distinction. “In a very real sense, the kingdom of God did come in the lifetime of the disciples (Mt. 12:28; Lk. 4:21; 17:20-21); but in another (apocalyptic) sense, it is still yet to come when Jesus returns to judge the world (Mt. 7:21; 8:11; Mk. 14:25; 15:43). Failure to make this careful distinction leads to an all-or-nothing approach to the coming kingdom of God and thus creates the impression that Jesus was mistaken about his own return” (113-114). Kruger then argues that
b. even if the early Christians believed the return of Christ and end of all things was imminent, that still isn’t any reason to think this would mean Christians wouldn’t produce written documents. He points to the Qumran community which, though highly apocalyptic in their orientation, still produced numerous written documents. Kruger ends this response to claim #3 by quoting Gerd Theissen: “The thesis about the imminent expectation of the end as a factor impeding literary creation is false. Jewish apocalyptic writing is full of imminent expectations and yet attests to a flourishing literary production” (as quoted on 117).

In the end, says Kruger, “In many instances Christians may have even preferred oral modes of communication over the written. But this is not the same as a prejudice against writing" (118).

Michael Kruger's The Question of Canon - Chapter 2 Summary

In chapter two of The Question of Canon, Mike Kruger takes aim at a second claim made by those who propose an exclusive extrinsic model of canon. They say that there was nothing inherent in earliest Christianity that might have led to a canon (23-24). Kruger has a quote from Harry Gamble that expresses this idea well: “There is no intimation at all that the early church entertained the idea of Christian Scriptures…” (47-48). The canon, so they say, was brought in 300 years later and imposed upon a Church for whom such a concept would have been unnatural. Kruger, argues, in response to this line of thought, that the theological climate of the early church would have been very conducive towards the production of new Scripture based on three overarching arguments.

a. Eschatological Expectancy in the Early Church. In responding to this challenge, Kruger points to the theological state of the early Church to demonstrate that they had major theological expectations which would have made a great deal of sense of canon. The first thing he argues is that Second Temple Judaism stood in an eschatologically expectant posture, even ending their canon with the expectancy of 2 Chronicles (and the decree of Cyrus) rather than the more chronologically sensible Ezra-Nehemiah. Looking at intertestamental writings such as Tob. 14:5-7; Bar. 3:6-8; 2 Macc. 1:27-29; Wis. 3:7 and Qumran, Kruger argues that “the Jews of this period viewed the story of the Old Testament books as incomplete” (50). With the arrival of Jesus, early Christians would have transferred that eschatological expectation to Christ and viewed him as the long-awaited one. He even points out that this theme is not only present in others’ statements about Jesus, but in his words regarding himself as well (51). He makes three sub-points here that are worth noting:

1. The forward-pointing nature of the Old Testament expectation indicates an environment where a written ending to the Old Testament would have been sensibly expected.

2. The OT itself demonstrates that periods of redemption are followed by periods of revelation and inscripturation. There is a [Redemption ——> Revelation] tendency in the Old Testament and early Christians would have expected writings to accompany the redemptive activity surrounding Christ. Kruger argues this point very persuasively, pointing to Gaffin’s work in Resurrection and Redemption to anchor some of his argument.
3. The OT also teaches that “this new era will be accompanied by a new divine message,” (54) and that divine message entails writings. In passing I will mention that he spends time discussing Deut. 18:18; Isaiah 11:1; Isaiah 61:1-2; Isaiah 2:2-3. All of these passages, says Kruger, demonstrate that the coming eschaton, from the Jewish perspective, would have been one of divine message and the sorts of writings that these revelations had always entailed.

All of these observations lead towards one conclusion: “there appear to be ample reasons to think that a new revelational deposit might have emerged naturally/intrinsically from within the early Christian movement rather than being foisted upon it by later ecclesiastical pressures” (57).

b. Covenant in Early Christianity. After pointing to the eschatological expectations of the early church, Kruger then points to the importance of covenant in early Christianity. As N.T. Wright observes, “Covenant theology was the air breathed by the Judaism of this period” (57). Because of the close connection in the Jewish paradigm between covenant and written text, Kruger says that the emergence of a fulfilling of the David and Abrahamic promises in Christ and the consequent “new covenant” ratified by Christ “suggests that the emergence of a new corpus of scriptural books…could not be regarded as entirely unexpected” (62). Briefly, he points out five worthy observations in this regard:

1. “The New Testament has its own ‘inscripturational curse’ in Revelation 22:18-19” (63).

2. “The New Testament has its own declarations that it should be read publicly,” specifically in 2 Cor. 10:9; Col. 4:16; and 1 Thess. 5:27 (63).

3. “The New Testament writings seem to perform the same covenantal functions as their Old Testament counterparts” (63).

4. Paul viewed his own second letter to the Corinthians as a “covenant lawsuit,” again reinforcing the idea that not only was his letter authoritative, but that he viewed his letter as functioning as a covenant document with God’s own authority.

5. “The fact that the new corpus of Christian Scripture eventually was called the ‘New Testament’ or ‘new covenant’ is indicative of the close relationship between the concepts of ‘covenant’ and ‘canon’” (65). He draws attention to the fact that in Exodus the tables of the law are actually called “the covenant.”

And so, argues Kruger, the covenantal focus of early Christianity meant that “the emergence of a new corpus of covenantal books would not have been something entirely unexpected” (67). 

c. Apostolic Authority in the Early Church. Finally, after pointing to the eschatological expectancy of early Christians, and after pointing to the covenantal focus of early Christians, he finally argues that the authority of the Apostles would also have contributed to an environment of expected inscripturation. “If apostles were viewed as the mouthpiece of Christ, and it was believed that they wrote down that apostolic message in books, then those books would be received as the very words of Christ himself. Such writings would not have to wait until the second-, third-, or fourth-century ecclesiastical decisions to be viewed as authoritative” (70). As is his pattern, he gives three sub-points in support:

1. “The disposition toward written covenant texts would no doubt have played a part” (70).

2. “The textualization of the apostolic message would have occurred quite naturally as the apostles…began to die out” (71).

3. “Many New Testament writings share elements of the ‘testamentary’ genre” (73) which implies a written record of one’s final words. In fact, Kruger is stronger: “It was the mission of the apostles which would have made writing…a virtual inevitability.”

In the end, Kruger concludes chapter two by summarizing his argument that there are sundry theological reasons why the early Christian environment was one that was quite friendly to the idea of producing new Scriptural documents which would have been viewed as on the same canonical level as the writings of the Old Testament.

Michael Kruger’s The Question of Canon - Chapter 1 Summary

Over the next couple of weeks, I’m going to spend some time summarizing each of the five chapters in Michael Kruger’s new book The Question of Canon, published a couple months ago through IVP. I first began reading the book for the purposes of writing a review, but since I am not an expert in canon studies I don’t feel I am adequately qualified to review the book, though I find myself highly appreciative of what I see in this volume. What follows is a summary of the introduction and the first chapter. This may be especially helpful to those who have read Canon Revisited and want to understand what Kruger is doing in this new volume.

Kruger’s Introduction

Kruger has written this book, not to defend a model of canonicity, per se (as readers may recall he did in Canon Revisited), but to answer the more basic question of “why is there a New Testament at all?” (17). In this book, Kruger is out to show the problems with the extrinsic model of the canon (which views the canon as, “to some degree, imposed upon the Christian faith” by outside ecclesiastical concerns in the fourth century). Kruger says this extrinsic view is the dominant model of canon in academia today. As its alternative, he presents the intrinsic model of canon, which views the canon as something that “is not …imposed from the outside but develops more organically from within the early Christian religion itself” (21). He summarizes the extrinsic model by its 5 major tenets, which he spends one chapter each in the book addressing. These are the five tenets of the extrinsic view:

1. We must make a sharp distinction between Scripture and canon.

2. There was nothing in earliest Christianity that might have led to a canon.

3. Early Christians were averse to written documents.

4. The NT authors were unaware of their own authority.

5. The NT books were first regarded as Scripture at the end of the second century.

Kruger’s book is structured into five chapters, each intended to deal with one of the above five tenets of the extrinsic model. In the end, he does hope readers will see the problems with the extrinsic model and see that the facts seem to line up with aspects of both the intrinsic model and also the extrinsic. He does not see the two models as mutually exclusive but as capable of harmonization. It is those who claim the extrinsic model is the only viable model of canon on whom Kruger sets his sights, as he sees much to be appreciated in both models.

Chapter 1: The Definition of Canon

Kruger agrees with Brevard Childs: “Much of the present confusion over the problem of canon turns on the failure to reach an agreement regarding the terminology” (27). This chapter is dedicated to finding a helpful definition of canon. Kruger narrows the possible definitions of canon down to three, and he finds each of them on their own to be insufficient apart from the others. They are:

1. The Exclusive definition: “Canon as a fixed, final and closed list of books” (29). This view puts the canon’s formation in the fourth century.

2. The Functional definition: “The term canon need not be restricted to a final, closed list but can ‘encompass the entire process by which the formation of the church’s sacred writings took place.’” (34). This view puts the canon’s formation in the second century.

3. The Ontological definition: Canon as defined by God. “What the canon is in and of itself, namely the authoritative books that God gave his corporate church” (40). This view sees the canon as existing as soon as it is written.

Kruger says that all three of these views complement each other because they each encompass a particular "phase" of the formation of the canon. He calls this a “multidimensional approach to the definition of canon” (43). To appreciate exactly how he sees them complementing each other, the following quote is helpful:

When the three definitions are viewed together they nicely capture the entire flow of canonical history: (1) the canonical books are written with divine authority; —> (2) the books are recognized and used as Scripture by early Christians; —> (3) the church reaches a consensus around these books. The fact that these three definitions are linked together in such a natural chronological order reminds us that the story of the canon is indeed a process; and therefore it should not be artificially restricted to one moment in time. Put differently, the story of the canon is organic (43).

Kruger argues that this “multidimensional approach” allows scholars to understand the canon in a way that is more in keeping with historic Christianity while at the same time appreciating the most helpful aspects of all three definitions.

Comparing Turretin and Kruger on the Canon (Part 3)

Conclusion

As we develop some concluding thoughts, it is important to note from the beginning that there are foundational similarities between Kruger and Turretin. As an example, the following quote from Turretin deserves some attention: “[The Church] declares the already existing authority by arguments drawn from the books themselves.”  Compare that to Kruger’s insistence that “the canon guides, controls, and determines how it is authenticated.”  Both statements reflect an effort to give Scripture foundational authority even in its own construction.

The strongest similarities between Kruger and Turretin are rooted in their recognition of a threefold epistemic cause of faith in Scripture. The following chart is an attempt to point out the substantive similarities between Kruger and Turretin in relation to their understanding of the threefold epistemic environment for belief in the Bible’s divinity.

From this chart, it must be admitted that for Turretin, external considerations do play some factor in answering challenges to the canon. It is important to emphasize that this is also the case for Kruger. Kruger is not saying that the sole consideration of a book’s canonicity is determined by external matters. Rather, borrowing from Ridderbos, he says: “Historical judgment cannot be the final and sole ground for the church’s accepting the New Testament as canonical.”   As Kruger says elsewhere: “If one of the attributes of canonicity is a book’s apostolic origins, then this entails an appeal to some external historical evidences to establish whether a book is apostolic…the key difference is that in the self-authenticating model the external evidence does not stand alone as an independent standard to which Scripture must measure up.” 

It would be very difficult, given these statements from Turretin, to fit him into an evidentialist mold or into a historically determined model for the canon as exemplified by Warfield. Those who disagree with this conclusion might be tempted to refer to places in Turretin’s writings where he points to historical realities to reinforce his arguments, therefore demonstrating that Turretin is not averse to historical methods. They would be mistaken, in assuming that historical arguments are disallowed, given the self-authenticating model. The self-authenticating model admittedly makes historical arguments part of its approach. It is, however, opposed to making historical considerations the sole determiner of what books are canonical and what books are not.

On the other hand, while someone such as Warfield would not in the least denigrate or reject the importance of the Holy Spirit in the formation of the canon and while they would not reject the divine qualities of Scripture, they would be averse to making these two traits foundational criteria for determining what is Scripture and what is not. As quoted earlier, “If the historical authenticity of our Canon is to be denied, it must be done at the expense of all our historical sources; at the expense of the falsification of history herself; at the expense of the destruction of the grounds of all historic inquiry.” When the authenticity of the canon is rejected, it is not fundamentally the Scriptures themselves which are being rejected and it is not the Holy Spirit who is being spurned, but it is the historical material that is being rejected. In that sense, the Warfieldian who claims Turretin as an ally in this discussion has an uphill climb. For Warfield, apostolicity is fundamentally a historical search.

As Kruger said earlier, the self-determining model of canon utilizes a three-dimensional approach, taking into account Scripture itself, the church’s role in receiving the canon, and the Holy Spirit’s role in caring for the canon while ensuring that the Church trust and hold to it. All three dimensions of this approach are indispensable in Turretin, and just as in Kruger, none of the three features take higher priority over the others in his Institutes.  While it is not being argued that Turretin and Kruger are identical in their views, and while they were writing in different contexts, for different audiences, and at somewhat different purposes, the similar trajectories between them are worth appreciating.

Archibald Alexander, Thomas Chalmers, and William Cunningham  have all acknowledged that historically the Reformed camp has generally become divided between two approaches to the canon.   In the one tradition, and emphasis is placed on the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit (it has been argued that Kruger and Turretin both easily fit into this mold).  In the other tradition belong those emphasizing external evidences for the canon (obviously Warfield and many others belong in this category).  This is an intramural debate within the Reformed world, and there is much overlap between the historical approach and the self-authenticating approach.  At the end of the day, there are differences in approach to this issue, but all parties within the Reformed tradition have a common affirmation: this is the infallible and inerrant word of God.  Such an affirmation is rare in the world today and is a beautiful display of unity within the body of Christ and of the truthfulness of Christ’s statement, “My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me.”

[You can download the complete PDF of this series, which includes the complete footnotes (not included in the blog version) by following this link.]

Comparing Turretin and Kruger on the Canon (Part 2)

Turretin's View of the Canon

Francis Turretin stands as one of the strongest representative examples of Reformed Scholasticism.  William van Asselt says that although he was very influential during the time of High Orthodoxy, his Institutes’ influence “was not limited to that time, but reached far into the nineteenth century, wherever they remained in use in the Netherlands, Scotland, and North America.”  Admittedly, his influence had waned in recent years until the translation of his three volume Institutes of Elenctic Theology into English by George M. Geiger in the 1990s. Before that, however, he was well regarded by Jonathan Edwards who called his Institutes “excellent,” and also commented that between Turretin and Peter Van Mastricht, it was Turretin who was by far the best polemicist.  John Gerstner said of Turretin that he was “the most precise theologian in the Calvinistic tradition.”  Considering the importance, influence, and high regard with which Turretin has been held, it is of some importance to ask whether it is a right or fair representation of Turretin’s views for Kruger to cite him in his defense of the self-authenticating model. Having already briefly explored Kruger’s view, an understanding of Turretin on the subject is now in order.

The Institutes are organized following a traditional scholastic method of Loci subdivided by Quaestiones. These questions highlight the polemical context of Turretin’s book and a brief read through the Institutes reveals a theologian who is engaging—not on a practical or pastoral level as Calvin was doing—but on an academic level against Roman Catholics, arminians, and socinians. In the Institutes, Turretin does not directly answer the question as to where the canon came from in as comprehensive a way as Kruger does. Turretin does, however, face several difficult Roman Catholic objections regarding the canon, and it is there that some important inferences can be drawn from him on the subject of the canon of Scripture.

The first relevant question that Turretin sets forth is, “Why, or on account of what, do we believe that the Bible is the word of God; or what argument does the Holy Spirit principally use to convince us of the inspiration of the Scriptures?”  He then narrows the options to two, which he then considers in turn.  For Turretin, either “the testimony and voice of the church” or “the marks impressed upon Scripture itself” are that on account of which we believe the Bible to be the word of God. He denies the former and affirms the latter.

It is of some contextual concern what Turretin’s reasons are making these affirmations and denials. Turretin argues against “the testimony of the church” by giving five reasons. First, he says “the testimony of the church” is unacceptable because the church is built upon the Scripture and borrows all authority from it, not the other way around. Second, if “the testimony of the church,” as an answer, were true, then the authority of the church would be prior to Scripture, which even the Roman Catholics deny. Third, he says the argument is circular.  Fourth, he argues that “church” does not have an agreed upon definition.  Finally, he says that “a fallible and human testimony cannot form the foundation of divine faith.”

The real substance of Turretin’s thought on the canon begins to emerge when he offers his defense of the proposition that “the marks impressed upon Scripture itself” is the epistemological ground of our faith in Scripture as the word of God. He substantiates this with four lines of reasoning.  First, he points to the nature of Scripture itself, by arguing that the Bible is an innately perfect and “inflexible rule of faith” and therefore “cannot have authority even as to us from the church, but only from itself.”

Second, Scripture is a thing “known by itself” and therefore cannot be subjected to proofs that cannot be themselves proven. “Thus Scripture, which is the first principle in the supernatural order, is known by itself and has no need of arguments derived from without to prove and make itself known to us.”  Turretin follows the standard scholastic treatment of principia. A principium is by definition a properly basic belief that by its fundamental nature cannot be justified by other basic beliefs. This becomes even clearer in a later section where Turretin elaborates:

It is not always necessary that a thing should be proved by something else. For there are some things which are self-evident according to the philosophers…which are not susceptible to demonstration, but are evident by their own light and are taken for granted as certain and indubitable. 

He then places the Bible into this category of principia: “Therefore since the Bible is the first principle and primary and infallible truth, is it strange to say that it can be proved by itself?”  This point alone places Turretin outside of the majority of Evidentialist apologetic methodologies and ought to be considered as highly relevant to this discussion. Further consideration of Turretin’s view of canon must take into account the way he grounds knowledge of the canon in Scripture. If the Scriptures themselves are self-evident and self-proved, it would be entirely inconsistent for Turretin to argue based upon external evidences that the canon is able to be known. It would, however, still be possible for him to remain consistent while arguing that external evidences confirm what is already known reliably from the Scriptures themselves.

It is also helpful to keep in mind that Turretin is not saying that Scripture is the only principle by which men may gain knowledge. Rather, he is placing Scripture in the same category as other things that can be “known in themselves,” and yet themselves cannot be subjected to proofs, such as the laws of logic.  He leaves open the possibility that other things may be known outside of Scripture.

Third, Turretin argues that the Scriptures are not known or recognized through an inductive chain of reasoning, but are “immediately distinguished.” The word “immediately” is carefully chosen by Turretin to reflect the lack of a chain of argument in ascertaining the Scripture’s divine qualities. He uses metaphors from Scripture such as taste, sight, and smell to argue that the divine qualities of Scripture can be appreciated just as immediately as one can see something lovely or smell something delicious.  Just as “there is no need to seek elsewhere for proof that this is light,” so it is with the Scriptures.

Finally, Turretin argues against “the testimony of the church” by stating that his own opponents make arguments that demonstrate the divine marks of Scripture. He then quotes Bellarmine who says that the Scriptures are to be highly regarded by all.

In this same section, as part of his argument Turretin favorably quotes the French Confession, Article 4: “We know that the books of Scripture are canonical, not so much from the common consent of the church, as from the internal testimony and persuasion of the Holy Spirit.”  He follows this up by commenting: “the same Spirit who acts objectively in the word by presenting the truth, operates efficiently in the heart also by impressing that truth upon our minds.”

With reference to the canon specifically, Turretin says that the church does not make the canon, but only distinguishes canonical books from apocryphal books as

the goldsmith who separates the dross from the gold…distinguishes the pure from the unadulterated, but does not make it pure…Nor can the judgment of the church give authority to the books which they do not possess of themselves; rather she declares the already existing authority by arguments drawn from the books themselves. 

He then further clarifies his position: “[The Church] declares the already existing authority by arguments drawn from the books themselves.”

In question seven, he inquires, “Has any canonical book perished?” He denies this.  What is helpful is his method for substantiating this answer. In it he uses a mixed approach. He offers six arguments for the notion that “no canonical book has perished.”

First, he points to Christ’s testimony in Luke 16:17, “it is easier for heaven and earth to pass, than one tittle of the law to fail.” Turretin argues that though Christ is here referring to the law, “it can also be applied analogically to [the Scriptures], so as to imply their preservation and so much the more.”

Second, he appeals to the declarations of Luke and of Paul to substantiate the completeness of the Scriptures. He points to Luke 24:27, “all the prophets and all of the Scriptures” and to Romans 15:4, “whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning” arguing that Paul and Luke could not have made such references “unless they supposed that all the writings of the Old Testament existed.”  In this point, it is clear that Turretin is specifically defending the notion of a complete Old Testament canon.

Third, he argues “From the providence of God perpetually keeping watch for the safety of the church.”

Fourth, Turretin argues that of all the crimes Christ and the apostles charged the Jews with, they never charged them with being careless in the caring of or the transmission of the Scriptures.

Fifth, he argues that there is a teleological purpose to Scripture, which could not be fulfilled “if (by loss of some canonical books) a mutilated and defective canon…has been left to the church.”

Finally, he argues that the Jews historically never acknowledged as canonical any other books than the Protestants acknowledge. Nor did they copy “in their Targums, nor” do we find any others “translated by the Septuagint.”

Of these arguments, the first five are undoubtedly theological in nature and even presuppose the truth of the Scriptures for their force. The sixth argument is the most obviously historical in its methodology.

Turretin is also careful to explain that there is a threefold distinction between the “efficient cause” of one’s belief, the “argument on account of which” one believes, and the “means and instrument” through which one believed.  He argues that the Holy Spirit is the efficient cause of belief, the church is the means and instrument through which the belief comes, and that the Scripture itself is “the argument on account of which” one believes (the Papists put the Church in this place). Though it will be discussed more in the next section, it is worth noting that this threefold causation of belief in Scripture strongly parallels Kruger’s three-dimensional epistemic environment for the self-authenticating model.

Concluding this brief exploration of Turretin’s understanding of the canon, it can be summarized that Turretin bases his argument for the soundness of the canon on theological considerations founded in Scripture, supported and confirmed by historical methods, recognizing the Holy Spirit being the “efficient cause and principle from which” belief comes.

[The final post in this series, which will be posted Friday, offers some concluding thoughts of comparison between Kruger and Turretin.]

Comparing Turretin and Kruger on the Canon (Part 1)

Introduction

Michael Kruger’s newest book, Canon Revisited, presents a model for understanding the formation of the canon that is meant to avoid reliance upon external authentication. As Kruger explains: “What is needed… is a canonical model that does not ground the New Testament canon in an external authority, but seeks to ground the canon in the only place it could be grounded, its own authority.”  In the Reformed world, canonical models have fallen neatly between those advocating a form of the self-authenticating model and those advancing a historically determined model. Amongst those advocating the historically determined model are such Reformed luminaries as B. B. Warfield and A. A. Hodge.  Warfield actually roots his understanding of the origin of canon in apostolicity, but the determination of a book’s apostolicity is rooted by Warfield in historical methodology. “It is a most assured result of biblical criticism that every one of the twenty-seven books which now constitute our New Testament is assuredly genuine and authentic.”  Elsewhere, Warfield summarizes, “If the historical authenticity of our Canon is to be denied, it must be done at the expense of all our historical sources; at the expense of the falsification of history herself; at the expense of the destruction of the grounds of all historic inquiry.”

In Canon Revisited, Kruger argues that this Princetonian model of canon is too reliant upon external criteria.  While the full breadth of Kruger’s disagreement cannot be explored here, it is worth noting a complaint that Kruger uniformly applies across all of the historically determined models, in all of their various flavors, is that, “All of these, in the end, subject the canon’s authority to some standard outside itself.”  In response, Kruger presents a model of canon that is meant to avoid this criticism. Kruger does insist that his view has a historical pedigree, and he briefly points to Reformed elder statesmen such as Francis Turretin (1623-1687), John Calvin (1509-1564), and Herman Bavinck (1854-1921) to reinforce the idea that his proposal is not novel.  In some ways it is anachronistic to try to squeeze Turretin into a view of the canon that may have developed after his time. In spite of this chronological challenge, it will be argued, that Turretin’s trajectory is the same as that of the self-authenticating model of the canon as expressed in Canon Revisited. To prove this thesis, it will be necessary to have an understanding of Kruger’s model and then compare that with Turretin’s underlying methodology in responding to related questions about the canon from his Institutes of Elenctic Theology.

Kruger's Self-Authenticating Model

When Kruger says that the canon “must be self-authenticating,” he means that “the canon guides, controls, and determines how it is authenticated.”  As he says elsewhere: “A self-authenticating canon is not just a canon that claims to have authority, nor is it simply a canon that bears internal evidence of authority, but one that guides and determines how that authority is to be established.”  Kruger’s model for self-authentication, then, does point to apostolic authority as grounding the Scriptures, as Warfield does, but he avoids the trap that the historically determined models fall into by explaining that his criteria for canonicity are drawn from the canon itself and not exclusively from history. “The method by which the canon is authenticated is correlative with the nature of the canon being authenticated. The two must be consistent with one another.”  Put another way, “where else would we turn to acquire this information but to the very scriptural books in question?”

Kruger argues that God has provided a “proper epistemic environment in which belief in the canon could be reliably formed.”  This epistemic environment involves three components: (1) providential exposure, which means God in his providence ensures that the church is exposed to and receives the canonical books; (2) attributes of canonicity, reflecting the fact that all canonical books have three features, which are (2a) divine qualities, (2b) Corporate reception by the church, and (2c) Apostolic origins; (3) the internal testimony of the Holy Spirit to counteract the noetic effects of sin.

Kruger belabors the interrelatedness of the three attributes of canonicity.  These attributes are all connected and the one cannot stand without the others. If one were to be removed (or considered apart from the other two) then the whole thing would become distorted.

In examining Turretin’s view of the formation of canon, it is important to keep in mind that Kruger’s model does not exclude historical discussion. The self-authenticating model, in a sense, takes all that is good in the other models and combines them into one. “While the self-authenticating model should be clearly distinguished from these other canonical models, it has also served to unite them by combining their greatest strengths into one system.”  The self-authenticating model recognizes the personal aspects of recognizing Scripture without falling into the individualism of the neo-orthodox subjectivism. It recognizes the historical nature of the canon without becoming a prisoner of this or that new historical trend or development.

[In the interest of making this series readable in the blog format, footnotes have been left out. Once the last part of the series is posted, I will make available a PDF of this article in its entirety, complete with footnotes.  In Part 2, we will look specifically at Turretin's discussion of the self-authenticating nature of the canon.]

Book Review: Canon Revisited by Michael Kruger

Canon Revisited is an important book, and I hope everyone reads it. The first chapter leads off with a quote from Ernest Best: “No one has come up with a satisfactory solution as to how we determine which books should be in the canon” (15). It might be simplistically summarized that from beginning to end, this book exists to prove Best wrong. There are objections from many different quarters, all basically arguing that the Christian cannot know that the twenty-seven books in the Christian canon of the New Testament are the right books. According to Michael Kruger, the church is not under threat of a historical crisis, but rather, what is at its core, an “epistemological crisis” (19). And so Kruger has written this book with a modest goal: to show that “Christians do have sufficient grounds for claiming that they know which books belong in the New Testament” (295).

I say this is a modest goal. To some, it sounds like a herculean task. It is crucial for understanding this volume, however, that readers keep in mind what Kruger is not out to prove. This book is not an all-out apologetic argument for the truth of Christianity. It is not a one-stop book to give to an unbeliever who wants a good reason for why he should believe that Jesus is Lord, and the Bible is telling the truth about Him. As Kruger helpfully states in summary fashion:

We are not asking how a person comes to believe in the canon (for the first time). Nor are we trying to prove the truth of the canon. We are asking whether the Christian religion can give an adequate account for the knowledge it claims to have. But such a question can be answered only on the basis of the Christian faith itself – that is, on the basis of the Christian conception of God, his purpose and plan, the nature of human knowledge, and so forth. And where else would we turn to acquire this information but to the very scriptural books in question? (289-290)

It is here that one sees most clearly the method and assumptions Kruger will be employing in this book. Those with a bent towards presuppositional apologetic methodology will find themselves very much at home in this book. Since I lean that way in the first place, it was nice to see argumentation that did not seek to placate unbelieving approaches to the canon. Rather as Kruger points out, if the argument is that Canon can only be explained in Christian categories, and if he is right that canon is ultimately a theological issue (294), then an accounting for the canon must take place on the Christian’s turf. There is simply no way to provide a theologically cogent account of canon in a satisfactory way while granting the skeptic’s presuppositions, since he brings assumptions to the table which already discount the answers which make the Christian view cohere.

The book rests in some respects upon Alvin Plantinga’s work in the area of epistemological justification. Particularly, Kruger distinguishes between two specific challenges to the canon: de jure objections and de facto objections. De facto objections argue that a belief that we have the right books in our canon “is intellectually unacceptable on the grounds that it is false” (288). De jure objections, on the other hand, argue, “not that it is false, but that it is intellectually unjustifiable” (288). Kruger is clear that it is the de jure objection which this book is responding to. Once he has responded to the de jure objection, he reacts: “Whatever other objections the critic may have, it can no longer be this one” (295). It is not a book to destroy skepticism altogether, but to eliminate one powerful objection.

The first half of the book is devoted to exploring the various canonical models that are out there and then concludes with a presentation of the self-attesting model of canon, which Kruger if himself advocating. The self-attesting model, Kruger is seeking to show, not only avoids the problems that the other views of canon present, but also provides a valid model for canonization which faithfully reflects the teachings of Scripture regarding itself.

What is the self-attesting model of canon? In the simplest terms, Kruger explains that to say the Scriptures are self-attesting means that one turns to them in order to understand them. Put another way, “self authenticating” refers to the fact that “one cannot authenticate the canon without appealing to the canon” (91).

A self-authenticating canon is not just a canon that claims to have authority, nor is it simply a canon that bears internal evidence of authority, but one that guides and determines how that authority is to be established (91).

This is something which is denied by all the other models of canon. As Kruger says, “all these models share one core characteristic. They all ground the authority of the canon in something outside the canon itself. It is this appeal to an external authority that unites all these positions” (88). What are these positions? Put briefly, the other models can be reduced to Community Determined models and Historically Determined models. There are variations within each of these models and nuances which deserve attention, but at the end of the day, as Kruger has already said, the determination of the canon is either put into the hands of the church, church leaders, or church historians with these views.

While Kruger does spend some time arguing that this view of the canon does have a historical basis in authors such as Turretin, Calvin, and Bavinck, I certainly would have appreciated a bit more than one paragraph on the historicity of this view. It is, of course, far more important to see if Scripture teaches this view, and so this semi-lack of historical material can easily be forgiven. It is certainly a subject worth following up on, however, as many in the Reformed community seem to be opposed to the self-attesting model in favor of a strictly historically-determined model. Regarding the Historically determined model, Ridderbos offers a helpful criticism:

Historical judgment cannot be the final and sole ground for the church’s accepting the New Testament as canonical. To accept the New Testament on that ground would mean the church would ultimately be basing its faith on the results of historical investigation (113).

The choice is between models which rely upon various external authorities an finding a model which is consistent from beginning to end in its theology of canon. Kruger argues (and I agree) that the self-attesting model is such a model.

Kruger argues, as he develops the self-attesting model, that the Bible testifies to an “epistemic environment wherein belief in the New Testament canon can be reliably formed,” including three features: (1) Providential exposure of the church to the canon, (2) Attributes of canonicity, and (3) Internal testimony of the Holy Spirit. As Kruger explains, “These three components must all be in place if we are to have knowledge of the canon” (94).

Kruger also spends much time on (2) discussing what exactly the attributes of canonicity are. He argues that there are three attributes of canonicity – each of which make appearances – to a greater or lesser degree – in the other models of canon. What makes Kruger’s approach different, however, is his insistence that a canonical book will possess all three of these attributes: (a) divine qualities, (b) corporate reception by the church, and (c) apostolic origins. Now, these three attributes are not enough. Even if a book does possess all of these things, features (1) and (3) must also be present. Kruger looks to Scripture to derive this model and all of its features – I think he does it quite effectively. In fact, much more could be said. Kruger shows much restraint, in a lot of ways. Meredith Kline’s discussion in the first hundred or so pages of The Structure of Biblical Authority make a strong case that the canon itself can be entirely constructed based on the Bible’s internal covenantal structure. Kruger gives Kline a brief mention, and if you follow up on Kruger’s footnotes you’ll find a wealth of information which is highly beneficial in this respect.

The second half of the book is meant to deal with potential defeaters which might be brought up against the self-attesting canonical model. One argument is that it is not the apostolicity of many New Testament books are not unanimously agreed upon. However, Kruger points out that the lack of a consensus can hardly constitute a defeater since there is also not a “consensus” against the apostolicity of the canonical books. Furthermore, those who are critical of apostolicity oppose it on the basis of modernistic assumptions. Kruger rhetorically asks, “Why should we think Enlightenment-based methodologies are more likely to produce true conclusions than Christian ones?” (291)

In the last two chapters, Kruger addresses other defeaters. Modern liberal scholarship largely tends to claim that there was disagreement over the contents of the canon, and assumes that a divinely inspired canon would not entail as much disagreement as was involved in the development of the canon. Of course, this assumption of such scholars is highly questionable and assumes that disagreement in the early church is inconsistent with the self-authenticating model (which Kruger makes clear it is not – in fact it is expected). Furthermore, Kruger says, the critics are exaggerating the nature of the disagreements.

So much more could be said in commendation of Kruger’s book. It is my personal belief that Canon Revisited will be key in providing structure for future discussions of the canon. The book is logically structured, rigorously argued, and is Biblically centered, as would be expected for a book seeking to consistently apply the teachings of Scripture to the structure of the Biblical canon. After reading Canon Revisited, my own understanding of the canon has been deeply enriched. I want to recommend this book to others as highly as I possibly can. It will be considered the major work on canon from an advocate of the self-attesting model for years to come.

Nothing Can Satisfy Catholic Demands for an Inspired Table-of-Contents

Early on in Michael Kruger's book Canon Revisited, he makes a very pointed and helpful observation regarding the Catholic complaint that protestants do not have a "inspired table of contents" to determine their canon.

The fundamental claim of the Roman Catholic model is that sola scriptura is untenable because, without some external infallible authority, there is no way to know which books are to be included in the canon. This epistemological challenge in the words of Catholic author Patrick Madrid, is that Christians do not have an "inspired table of contents" that reveals "which books belong and which books do not."  If only Christians had this inspired table of contents, then we would not need the authoritative rulings of the Roman Catholic Church to authenticate the Canon. Although such an argument is made repeatedly within Catholic writings, it proves to be problematic upon closer examination. 

Imagine for a moment that God has inspired another document in the first century that contained this "table of contents" and had given it to the church. We will call this the twenty-eighth book of the New Testament canon. Would the existence of such a book have satisfied the Catholic concerns? Would this allow Catholics to affirm sola scriptura and deny the need for an infallible church? Not at all. Instead, they would simply ask the next logical question: "On what basis do you know that this twenty-eighth book comes from God?" And even if it were argued that God has given a twenty-ninth book saying the twenty-eighth book came from God, and the same objection would still apply: "Yes, but how do you know the twenty-ninth book came from God?" And on it would go. The Catholic objection about the need for a "table of contents," therefore, misses the point entirely. Even if there were another document with such a table, this document would still need to be authenticated as part of the Canon. After all, what if there were multiple table-of-contents-type books floating around in the early church? How would we know which one was from God? In the end, therefore, the Roman Catholic objection is to some extent artificial. Such a "table of contents" would never satisfy their concerns, even if it were to exist, because they have already determined, a priori, that no document could ever be self-attesting. In other words, built into the Roman Catholic model is that any written revelation (whether it contains a "table of contents" or not) will require external approval and authentication from an infallible church (Pg. 42-43).

I recall some time back, someone on Jason Stellman's Facebook page asked him if he had read Kruger's book, (someone, perhaps Jason, had mentioned the supposed Protestant lack of an inspired canon) and he responded something to the effect that any Protestant answer to the question of canon was irrelevant since it begins by begging the question. Chew on that one for a bit, and if you're a thinking person it should trouble you endlessly.  There is no answering someone who has truly decided the magisterium holds all answers, truth, and authority.  But if it were possible, Canon Revisited would be a great place to start.

By the way, Westminster Books is currently selling Canon Revisited for 40% off the regular price.

D. A. Carson on the New Testament Canon

Canon is FOR the Church, Not FROM the Church

The idea of a New Testament canon was not something developed in the second century (or later) when the church was faced with pressing needs, but rather it was something that was handed down to and inherited by the early church from the beginning. It was the foundation for the church, not the consequence of the church. The idea of canon, therefore, does not belong formally to church history, but is more accurately understood as a central plank in redemptive history.

The Heresy of Orthodoxy by Andreas J. Kostenberger, Page 117