The Case for 73 versus 66 Books in the Bible

Introduction / Jewish History

The Bible. It is the most widely published book in the world, the most widely read, and the most hotly debated among various belief systems, skeptics, and scholars. Within the realm of Christianity, Bible-based debates have been an ever-increasing, ever divisive, ever agenda-driven force since the dawn of the Protestant Reformation in the sixteenth century.

However, one debate, which has the historical, theological, ecclesiastical and, above all, divine backing to be resolved, is whether the Bible should contain at least the seventy-three books that the Catholic Church has upheld as canonical since the fourth century AD — or the entire Christian world should only accept the sixty-six-book collection contained in most modern-day Protestant bibles. This paper will show why the above-mentioned factors result in a seventy-three-book canon.

To begin: Within scholarship circles, the seven books that separate the two heavily debated options are called the deuterocanon,  or “second canon.” These seven books, written sometime between 200 B.C. and 50 B.C. (Horn 54), are Tobit, Judith, 1 & 2 Maccabees, Baruch, Sirach, and Wisdom. Collectively, these books originally appeared in the Septuagint, a Greek translation of Hebrew and Aramaic Scriptures compiled by post-exile Jews within the Hellenistic era / under Greek rule. Altogether, the Greek translations of Hebrew Scriptures first came into being in the mid-third century BC, with many early Jewish writers proclaiming the translation process from Hebrew to Greek as divinely guided (Thomas 30).

In fact, five of the seven deuterocanonical books were most likely originally written in Greek. The exceptions are the Book of Sirach, which was first written in Hebrew (Lim 365; Boadt 6); and Tobit, which written in either Hebrew or Aramaic (Boadt 6). Overall, the books in the Septuagint outnumber the twenty-four books in the current Jewish canon, as well the thirty-nine books in the Protestant Old Testament canon. Meanwhile, the Catholic Old Testament has forty-six books in total (Boadt 6); and while Protestant Bibles have excluded the seven deuterocanonical books since the early nineteenth century, the inclusion of these books in the Catholic Old Testament is consistent with the Septuagint versions used by New Testament writers, as well as by the Church throughout its 2000-year history.

Another discrepancy is that some Protestants include the deuterocanonical books among what is called the apocrypha, a word in antiquity that initially meant “hidden,” but that “eventually changed to mean that which is false, untrustworthy, or spurious” (McDonald 24). Examples of books that fit the definition of “apocrypha” are the Book of Enoch and the Assumption of Moses (Horn 54; Boadt 7).

However, the problem with including the deuterocanonical books as apocrypha is it is now primarily a Protestant-based assumption / conclusion, not a consensus that includes Catholics and Eastern Orthodox scholars (McDonald 24). Therefore, it is best, and for the purpose of this paper, to call the seven books in question the ‘deuterocanonical books’ (Boadt 8).

But first, what is meant by the word ‘canon’? Coming from the Hebrew word, qaneh, as well as from the Greek word kavon, the translation in English is “reed, rod, or staff.” (Lim 359; Thomas 29). The Christian use of the word refers to applying a standard or a rule of faith. Thus, the full corpus of the Biblical canon is a like a ‘measuring stick’ or standard for adhering to religious faith and morals (Boadt 5,6).

Yet there is no early record of Semitic tribes, or at least not in the early parts of Hebrew / Israelite history, of qaneh being used to mean a list of scripture-based books or related literature. It appears that the meaning of the Greek word, kavon, gained more traction under Hellenism; it typically referred to the lists of literary works considered important, such as Homer’s works and other classical authors (Lim 359). Still the concept of ‘canon’ appears implicit in Hebrew and Greek Scripture because of references to the ‘book of law,” along with other narratives mentioned in books such as Nehemiah and Ezra (Lim 359).

Within the Hellenistic era, as Hebrew and Aramaic Scriptures were translated into the Septuagint, the Jewish community, as it morphed into multiple factions, became increasingly vocal about how the multiplicity of Scriptures outside the Torah were to be categorized. For example, the book of Sirach, written sometime between 196 and 175 BC (and also known as the Wisdom of Jesus Ben Sira or Ecclesiasticus) points to a curriculum that scribes are to follow — that being the law, writings, wisdom, proverbs, prophecies, and other discourse (Lim 364).

When further consolidated, the various type of works mentioned above ended up falling into three main categories: the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings (Horn 55; Lim 365). Still, within the Writings alone, Jesus Ben Sira suggests learning “the wisdom of all ancients” (Lim 365). This indicates that the works available for Jews to study and incorporate into their faith were not neatly defined into a “this is the official list of books — The End.”

Moreover, as a large portion of Jews within the Hellenistic era, and then under Roman rule, spoke Greek as their first language, they primarily relied on the Septuagint for their source of Scripture. Additionally, the Septuagint was considered just as important and authoritative as the Hebrew Bible (Boadt 6).

Nevertheless, some of the core beliefs among Second Temple Jews diverged according to their respective camps. Within the Pharisee faction, books such as 1 and 2 Maccabees helped support their belief in Apocalyptic Judaism, which features the theological significance of a bodily resurrection at the end times, as well as prayers for the dead (Oegema 10, 13).

Further, because apocalyptic Judaism influenced many of the Jews who followed or rejected Jesus — the Apostle Paul was an apocalyptic Jew and former Pharisee himself — Christians therefore cannot divorce themselves from apocalyptic Judaism’s influence. Most obviously is that a central tenet of Christian belief, and as professed in the Nicene Creed, is the resurrection of the dead. Consequently, Christian belief is an important component of the debate over whether the deuterocanonical books belong in the Biblical canon: To hand wave the books away as flat out uninspired, or that they have no theological bearing on Christian belief, mistakenly negates the apocalyptic Jewish / Pharisaic rooted influence on Jesus, along with the first century Jews who followed him.

Therefore, it is not a major leap to say that the Christian movement was born out of late Second Temple Jewish theology, which was the dominant school of thought in the ancient world. That does not mean the theology was formed out of thin air, or that it was not solidly rooted in the Torah, the Prophets, and the broader understanding of salvation history. Bear in mind that the Jews had spent several centuries either in exile or as the diaspora; or they had returned to Jerusalem, beginning under the Persian empire, yet had understood from the many books of the prophets that a Messiah would appear one day and bring the Jews back in full accord and covenantal peace with God.

In addition, when looking back to the patriarchs in Genesis, and even further back to the ‘fall’ in the Garden, God had already promised a fulfilling future for humankind — first centered around God’s chosen people, and then extended to all humankind through the Messiah. Meanwhile, for the Second Temple Jews who were divided along certain theological lines, this also meant a debate over when prophecy exactly ended and how that affected which books belonged in the Hebrew Bible — or even the Septuagint for that matter. The flurry of this debate occurred mostly in the first and second centuries AD.

Firstly, while the Septuagint was commonly read in the ancient world, the Hebrew Bible was not obsolete. Still, because Jewish factions continued to exist during the first century, they debated over which Old Testament books should be considered canonical. Specifically, the means for defining scripture, particularly in the Hellenistic and Roman eras, were not ubiquitously boiled down to the word “scripture.” In our modern era, Christians and Jews often use the word “scripture” as a common term in dialogue. However, one must not fall into the trap of ‘presentism’ when looking at ancient history, that the people at that time used the word “scripture” as everyday speak when referring to writings read by the faithful.

Rather, Jews in the Hellenistic and Roman eras, as well as Christians in the early Church, used a variety of terms in a variety of texts about faith-based topics. For instance, in his works, the Jewish philosopher Philo of Alexendria uses terms such as the writings, the holy writings, the law, the holy books, and the oracles of God (Lim 359).

In addition, these same words, or slight variations of them, appear in some of the Dead Sea scrolls, though both Jews and Christians do not qualify certain scrolls as ‘scripture’ (Lim 359). The variations also appear in the Catholic Bible (e.g., 2 Macc 15:9; 1 Macc 12:9; Luke 10:26; Rom 3:2; 2 Tim 3:15), and in the works of the early Church. For example, “the writing” is used in 1 Clement 34:6, though more modern translations use the word “scripture.”

All in all, the period between 200 BC and ~100 CE was the one of the most transitional periods in Jewish history; for while numerous texts had been written for the Jewish community, most did not make the cut by the time the Tanak was established. In the meantime, and depending on individual Jewish sects or the community at large, many of the faith-based writings used, despite later on being deemed non-canonical, were all considered either authoritative, or the equivalent of canonical at one point or another (Lim 359).

One example is that “the communities reflected in the Dead Sea Scrolls considered the book of Jubilees, the Temple Scroll, the book of Enoch, as well as their own writings, in the same way that they regarded the biblical books” (Lim  363, 368).

Furthermore, some Jews within the same time period believed that divine inspiration and prophecy were actively in motion, thereby leading to the writing of additional sacred scripture (McDonald 38). Meanwhile, other Jews were certain that prophecy had ceased after the deaths of Zechariah and Malachi, or after Ezra and Nehemiah. Evidence for the former is found in the Qumran texts and then later on in the Babylonian Talmud (McDonald 38; Lim 365, 366) In fact, as an interesting side bar, parts of Sirach, Baruch, and Tobit have also been discovered among the Qumran texts (Horn 61).

What may be even more striking, especially for anyone who trusts that the ancient Jews fully determined the Hebrew canon and divine inspiration, is that some Jews even made their own claims to divine inspiration and prophecy. For example, Philo of Alexandria believed that God had inspired him to be an authorized interpreter of the Commandments (McDonald 38).

Also, Josephus, a first century Jewish historian and Pharisee, claimed he was empowered with divinely inspired prophecy to foretell that Vespasian would be become emperor of Rome, as mentioned in The War of the Jews. (McDonald 38). As a matter of fact, “Josephus only says the exact line of succession among the prophets had ceased by the death of Artaxeres, not that the divine gift of prophecy itself was no more” (Horn 62).

Thus, by the first century AD, the three main sects of Judaism — Pharisees, Sadducees, and Essenes — all had competing perspectives regarding how to identify ‘divinely inspired’ Hebrew Scripture. And to make matters more complicated, the Samaritans, whom the Jews considered heretics and schismatics, also made claims about which scriptures should be counted as inspired.

In general, the Sadducees and Samaritans held strictly to the Torah (Pentateuch in Greek), which contains the first five books of the Old Testament and is referred to as the ‘Law.” The Pharisees and Essenes, however, also accepted several books in the Septuagint and divided them into the established categories of ‘Prophets’ and ‘Writings’ (Thomas 30).

The Torah and nineteen books from the Prophets and the Writings were eventually formed into the “Hebrew Bible”, or what is officially called the ‘Tanak’ (Lim 357). The term Tanak is actually an acronym based on the following words: Torah; Nebi’im, which means “Prophets”; and Ketuvim, which means “Writings” (Horn 55; Boadt 4,5). Yet when Jews today engage in conversations with Christians about the Bible, they typically refer to their own canon as the “Hebrew Scriptures.” This helps Jews emphasize a clear separation from the books in, say, the Catholic Bible, and particularly from the New Testament (Boadt 5).

Additionally, the differences between the divisions in the Jewish canon versus Christian Bibles add another level of complexity. For instance, in the Tanak, the books of Joshua, Judges, Samuel, and Kings are all included as books of the “Prophets,” whereas these same books in Christian Bibles are considered as a fourth category of ‘historical’ books. In fact, the four divisions in the Christian Bible essentially fall in line with the Septuagint (Boadt 5).

Moreover, while the order in the Tanak is largely based on making the Torah central among the Hebrew Scriptures, the Old Testament in the Christian Bible is structured according to salvation history: it begins with Genesis and then ends with prophetic and other books that pave the way for the future Messiah, that being Jesus Christ (Boadt 5).

Now, prior to the Tanak, and when examining Jewish life in first century AD, most Jews not only remained loyal to the Torah by default, but they also widely accepted books of the prophets and those considered as ‘Writings’. Yet this same period of time featured two branches of competing thought.

On one branch, some Jews held strictly to the Hebrew scriptures that ended with the prophet Malachi in fifth century BC. Josephus, for example, was loyal to the Hebrew collection, as were a growing majority of Jews after the Jerusalem temple was destroyed in 70 AD (Thomas 30). However, unlike how the twenty-four book Tanak would eventually be structured, Josephus, in his work, Against Apion, proposed a twenty-two-book collection organized by genre and thereby in its own unique order (McDonald 32).

In short, Josephus proclaimed that “Jews do not have thousands of books that disagreed and are in conflict with each other, but only twenty-two books, consisting of the five books of Moses, the thirteen books of the prophets, and four books of hymns and instructions” (Lim 361). However, scholars have pointed out that Josephus appears hyperbolic in his commentary about the canon and Hebrew Scripture overall. For instance, in Against Apion, Josephus makes the extraordinary claim that “no one has ventured to add, or to remove, or to alter a syllable” of the Hebrew Scriptures (Horn 62). 

But, truth be told, Josephus’ “world of thought and language says little directly about the shape of the Jewish Bible in the first century” (McDonald 33). Further, while Josephus indeed cites from Hebrew books in works, he is also quite familiar with non-Hebrew Bible texts and even authoritatively cites from them. Two examples are 1 Maccabees (one of the deuterocanonical books), and the Letter of Aristeas — the latter of which is considered a pseudepigraphic text (McDonald 33).

Therefore, it is difficult to know how exactly Josephus distinguished scripture from non-scripture. In turn, it is also difficult to understand what Jews considered ‘canonical’ – especially because they did not use such a term at that time.

On the other branch, a large portion of Jews before 70 AD loyally accepted and greatly respected the Septuagint, which, as mentioned earlier, contains the seven deuterocanonical books (Thomas 30). However, post-70 AD Judaism experienced yet another devastating turning point in its already troubled history: Not only was the Jewish temple and much of Jerusalem itself destroyed, and as Jesus Christ had predicted during his earthly ministry (Matt 24:1-2; Luke 21:5-6), but scores of Jews were killed or driven out in the process.

Of the three main sects, the Pharisees had the highest number of survivors and soon became the only Jews remaining. The other two sects faded into black and most likely by the end of the first century (Horn 63). Some scholars mention the Bar Kokhba rebellion against Rome (132 – 135 AD) as the final hammer blow to the Sadducee and Essene communities (McDonald 38), but they still would have been rather sparce by the early second century.

Nonetheless, while the Pharisees were the surviving sect, although no longer with a temple to call their own, Jews entered into the ‘Rabbinic Age’. Within the first part of this age, the rabbinic successors to the Pharisees had written major non-canonical works: the Mishnah, the Tosefta, and the two Talmudim (McDonald 38). These particular works influenced how Jewish faith and practice was to move forward, including which books met canonical criteria.

As Judaism pressed on, synagogues also continued as a mainstay for Jews to gather in prayer, in worship, and to study Scripture. However, the rabbis at the time did not all align on which books should continue as Sacred Scripture and within the Jewish canon. Rabbi Akiba Ben Joseph, a central figure in the second century AD, chastised Jews who read from books written after Sirach. And he further declared that “the one who reads ‘outside or heretical books’ does not have a place in the world to come” (Lim 361).

Additionally, the Talmud speaks of some rabbis removing Sirach altogether (Horn 63). This is a bit bizarre given that one of the criteria for determining a work as canonical was whether the text was originally written in Hebrew of Aramaic (McDonald 39). However, in fairness to the rabbis who believed that prophecy ended after Ezra and Nehemiah, of after Malachi, they also scrutinized and often rejected works written outside of Palestine, including those written in one’s own name — such as Sirach (McDonald 39).

On other hand, the rabbinic writings and books deemed non-canonical led to conflicting views on how exactly to identify or organize ‘holy books’. While Josephus appeared to champion the twenty-two book Hebrew canon, 4 Ezra, a non-canonical book, refers to a ninety-four-book cannon, of which seventy books are for the “wise”. Then there is the Bryennios list, produced in the mid-second century: it lists twenty-seven books that differ in number from rabbinic preferred cannon, but not in overall content (Lim 361). 

Also, while the Sadducees and Essenes no longer had a significant presence within Judaism, some communities of non-Pharisaic, diaspora Jews did not fully align with the Pharisaic-rooted canon (Lim 368). This difference in views is crucial to understanding the situation among Jews in the early centuries after Christ’s death and resurrection: Being that all Jews were not fully in union about which books to keep in, or remove from, the canon, this means the canon itself was clearly not settled — and certainly not closed — within the first two centuries AD.

Namely, while most rabbis rejected the deuterocanonical books by about the end of the second century (McDonald 38), the debates among rabbis about other books to consider canonical blazed on for at least the next few centuries or so (Horn 63). For example, Song of Songs, Ruth, and Esther — all of which are now in the Tanak — were disputed among Jews until the third and fourth centuries (Lim 368). And historical records show that “Disapora Jews in the West appear to have accepted the LXX (Septuagint) and its additional books well into the eighth century” (McDonald 38).

Although Jews and many Protestants may argue that Rabbi Akiba helped settled much of the debate by the second century, not all debates were apparently settled. Furthermore, while the majority of rabbis did end up abandoning the deuterocanonical books, and much of the Jewish community followed suit, this same group also rejected all of the New Testament books and — on top of that — rejected Jesus as the Messiah.

Above all, anyone who claims to know the exact list of books that pre-70 AD Jews deemed canonical is patently mistaken. No ancient source describes in detail how the canon was declared (Lim 359) — and there was no universal ruling on the Jewish canon during Jesus’ time, nor even within multiple centuries after (Horn 67). The closest action to a ruling was that a large community of Jews rather arbitrarily made their canon the de facto, albeit while still dealing with a few lingering disputes. Thus, just because something becomes a de facto does not mean the matter is necessarily ‘closed’ (Lim 359, 360).

Overall, what can be pieced together is a general timeline for when the twenty-four books in the Tanak became the most widely accepted canon: the Torah / Pentateuch was closed around 500 BC, the Writings in ~90 AD, and the books of the prophets by around the fourth century. (Lim 360). However, Song of Songs, Esther, and Ruth were not consistently present in the canon until the associated disputes were finally settled.

Still, scholars point out that the process over several centuries was not perfectly linear. Further, recent scholarship suggests that the Hebrew canon was closed by the fifth century; and up until that point, the canon was purposely left open to allow rabbis to establish more concretely the three divisions — the Law, the Prophets, and the Writings — within what is now the Tanak (Lim 357, 360). 

Yet an even more important point here is that any attempt to build a precise, harmonious relationship between the history of the Jewish canon and the history of the Christian cannon falls flat on itself. That is, to say that the Christian Bible should strictly follow Jewish history leads to three problems:

1. As explained above, the history of the Hebrew / Jewish canon is not linear
2. Removing the seven deuterocanonical books does not resolve why the Old Testament has several books that are not in the Tanak.
3. There is no concrete evidence that the Jewish canon was officially closed at any time during ancient history. Which means that, within the history of the Christianity, which largely features the Catholic Church at the center, one cannot view the deuterocanonical books purely through a Jewish lens.

For Christians, the Bible is not only the New Testament, which announces Jesus Christ, but it also “sees in Jesus the continuation and fulfillment of the Old Testament hopes of a Savior and Messiah” (Boadt 4). And while both Jews and Christians believe that the mutually agreed upon Old Testament books contain God’s Word, one cannot get around that Jews flatly deny Jesus as the promised Messiah.

Christian History

Moving forward, the Christian biblical canon has its own nuanced history, particularly with the deuterocanonical books. In this case, however, the disputes about the deuterocanonical books primarily occurred among various Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers. In general, the debates entailed how to determine whether written works used at the Liturgy, or which were already considered Holy Scripture, should be included in the Biblical canon.

Beginning in the first century AD, the geographically separated, yet theologically and ecclesiastically aligned, Christian churches continued to the uphold the Tradition / God’s revelation given to them by the Apostles. Also, the churches eventually began incorporating various first and second century written works into the Liturgy. In the earliest record regarding collective church unity, Ignatius of Antioch, writing to Smyrnaeans around the year 107 AD, identifies the unified body of churches as the Catholic Church (Irvin and Sunquist 41). 

Then, later in the second century, the Church Father Irenaeus explains in his work, Against Heresies, that tradition is not only what the Apostles passed down to their successors — and therefore cannot be divorced from Scripture — but, through the Church, it is also the authoritative means to resolve disagreements over how to interpret Scripture (Coakley and Sterk 59, 60; Thomas 30). Ultimately, the Church has the divinely appointed authority to preserve the Deposit of Faith: Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition.

Still, when examining the history of the deuterocanonical books, the starting point is to understand how early Christian assessed and then incorporated these books. Within the first century, the books that now comprise the New Testament were written sometime between the early 50s to late 80s or early 90s.

This means that early converts to Christianity spent much of the first century using a combination of oral teaching / Tradition and Old Testament Scripture to lead people toward a salvific relationship with Jesus Christ and into His Church. There were no “Bible only” Christians in the first century, for there was no widely established “Bible” canon until about three to four centuries later (Thomas 29).

In the meantime, early Christian writers, particularly in the churches and communities that were eventually referred to as ‘Catholic’, largely depended on the Septuagint and fellow Christians as source material, though Hebrew Scripture had some influence too. In fact, the early Church Fathers, such as Irenaeus, confirmed that Jesus’ apostles, who were certainly Jewish, used the Septuagint as a primary source for Scripture (Thomas 30). Therefore, there is little to no doubt that the followers of Christ, and Christ himself, considered the Septuagint as Sacred Scripture and on par with the Hebrew Scriptures. 

For example, Paul who was a Pharisee before his call to serve Christ, quotes from the Septuagint over 90% of the time in his letters, while what he overall considers as Holy Scripture (Rom 1:2) aligns well with Scripture that was included in the Pharisaic / Rabbinic canon (Lim 367, 368). In effect, he does not cite from books such as Song of Songs, Ruth, and Esther, although these same books would eventually be included in the Tanak (Lim 368).

In general, 80 to 90% of citations throughout the New Testament are from the Septuagint (Thomas 31; Horn 64). However, none of the citations are from the deuterocanonical books — though this does not empirically prove that the deuterocanonical books were not relevant to Christian teaching. If, say, the books used for citations in the New Testament were purely the standard for determining the Biblical canon, then one could point out that the New Testament does not quote from several other Old Testament books — such as Joshua, Judges, Nehemiah, Chronicles, Obediah, and Zephaniah (Horn 65).

All things considered, there is at least one verified allusion to a deuterocanonical book, that being the relationship between Hebrews 11:35 and 2 Maccabees 7. And, in some cases, there are numerous implied allusions that could quite possibly be direct allusions (Thomas 30).

Here are just a few of many examples: Compare Sirach 28:2-5 to Matt 6:12-14 and Mark 11:25 regarding the relationship between forgiving one another and God’s forgiveness. Then, regarding charitable giving as necessary to the spiritual life, compare Sirach 29:9-12 and Tobit 4:6-11 to Matt 6:19-20, Mark 10:22, and Luke 12:33 (McDonald 31). Finally, many scholars, including Protestant scholars, acknowledge an allusion to Wisdom 2:12-20 in Matthew’s description of Jesus’ crucifixion (Horn 56).

In any case, the allusions mentioned do not indisputably prove that the New Testament writers had a penchant for relying on the deuterocanonical books (McDonald 31). Yet the similarities must be taken into account because they help in understanding the “themes, words, and phrases that were likely circulating among Jews in the first century” (McDonald 31). 

Furthermore, when factoring linguistics and culturally related speak into the writing of the New Testament, this is a lesson in why the Bible cannot be viewed as a self-interpreting collection of books, nor based on any interpretation that dismisses how people lived, what they discussed in public discourse, and how they developed their beliefs in the ancient world.

The Pharisees and the Sadducees, for instance, had widely different views about what to consider as Scripture; and they even differed on some key theological beliefs. Meanwhile, early Christians chose to adopt beliefs mostly influenced by the Pharisaic school of thought, such as the resurrection of the body and prayers for the dead — both of which are mentioned in 2 Maccabees (McDonald 29; Horn 59). Moreover, Jesus’ disciples relied on, and sometimes cited from, other Jewish texts; yet, ironically enough, those same texts did not make it into the Hebrew canon (McDonald 29).

Which means that while the New Testament writers do not blatantly quote from certain Old Testament books, Sacred Tradition, linguistics, and cultural milieu certainly had a hand in the beliefs that the early Christians established. Additionally, as Christianity continued to grow throughout the Mediterranean, the successors to the Apostles and early Christian writers quite often filled in the gaps of missing authoritative Scripture by citing from the deuterocanonical books. This also included incorporating other forms of Christian writings into the Liturgy.

In the late first century, and as the Christian movement transitioned from the Apostolic Age into the Patristic Age, several Church Fathers and other Christian writers cite directly from the deuterocanonical books in their works, or they make compelling allusions.

To begin, the Didache, a first century (ca. 70 – 100 AD) handbook about Christian moral life and the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist, features multiple citations from Sirach (4:31; 12:1; 18:1; 24:8; Thomas 31) and from Wisdom (1:14; 12:5-7; 15:11; McDonald 33). Also noteworthy is that the Didache was approved as an authoritative work to be read and obeyed (McDonald 35).

Within the same century, Clement of Rome’s first letter to the church in Corinth (ca. 70 – 96) draws from Wisdom 2:24, 12:10, and 27:5; and it includes allusions to Wisdom 12:12 (McDonald 33). Then, moving into the second century, the Epistle of Barnabas (ca. 100 – 130) cites from a combination of Isaiah and Wisdom 2:12 to show prophecies regarding Christ and his suffering (6:7; Thomas 31).

Next, in his Epistle to the Philippian’s, Polycarp, writing around ~110, “cites Tobit’s refrain that alms deliver from death” (10:2; Tob 4:10; Thomas 31). And in his seminal work, Against Heresies, Irenaeus cites Baruch as part of refuting Gnosticism (Book IV, ch. 35); and he cites from Wisdom while discussing human nature (Book IV, ch. 38; Wis 1:4), as well as the dichotomy between the Holy Spirit and the consequences of sin (Book IV, ch. 39; Wis 1:11).

Throughout the subsequent centuries leading up to the Biblical canon, multiple other Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers also cite from deuterocanonical books. Hippolytus of Rome, in the early third century, cites from Tobit 3:17 in a fragment recovered from one of his commentaries (McDonald 34); Origen of Alexandria, an ecclesiastical writer, cites from Sirach, Wisdom, Judith and Maccabees in various works (Horn 69); and Cyprian of Carthage, in multiple treatises written in the 250’s, cites from Tobit as well from Wisdom and 1-2 Maccabees (McDonald 35).

In the fourth century, Athanasius of Alexandria, cites from Judith, Tobit, and Sirach in his various works, and he also quotes from Wisdom in his works, On the Incarnation and Against the Arians. In the latter work, he even refers to Wisdom as “Holy Scripture” (Thomas 32). Another example is Cyril of Jerusalem, who cites Baruch 35:-37 to defend Christ’s divine nature (Horn 71). And even Jerome, who will be covered more in-depth later in this paper, cites from the deuterocanonical books — and with “great frequency” (Thomas 31).

Additionally, many of the Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers aligned on Christian theological topics for which they used the deuterocanonical books to support their perspectives. For example, as Horn points out from the Fortress Bible Commentary, Clement, Tertullian, Origen, Ambrose, and Hilary all drew a relationship between Baruch 3:38 / Wisdom appearing on earth and the Incarnate Christ mentioned in John 1:14 (56, 57).

What is more, the early Church generally accepted the deuterocanonical books to be read as part of catechesis and at the Liturgy (Horn 69, 72). And along with said books being accepted, a minority of churches incorporated other texts as well, such as the Shepherd of Hermas (ICBS 30). Altogether, texts that were read at church liturgies were usually valued as scriptural texts, which means that “rather than reading ‘canonical’ texts in worship, it appears that whatever was read in worship functioned as scripture and had ‘functional canonicity'” (McDonald 26).

Thus, for at least the first few centuries after Jesus’ death and resurrection, there was no clear difference between Church-related books considered “scripture” and those considered “canonical” (McDonald 28). In fact, the word canon — or, actually, “canonized” / kanonizomena — was not used at all to qualify Scripture until 367 AD, when Athanasius used the term in his 39th Festal Letter to refer to the twenty-seven books in the New Testament ( (McDonald 27, 35).

In short, early Christians held to non-New Testament and non-Hebrew canon books as having Church approved authority (Thomas 31), and many of the early Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers qualified the deuterocanonical books as “scripture” (Horn 70; McDonald 27). As a matter of fact, St. Augustine, one of the most influential Church Fathers in Catholic history, was an ardent defender of the deuterocanonical books (McDonald 27).

Yet when considering which books, even if defined as “scripture,” should be included in the canon, this is where the situation becomes a bit more complex. To understand the situation more clearly, it begins with certain individuals and texts, especially in the first four centuries of Church history, publishing lists of sacred books deemed necessary to the Church.

The first example is the Muratorian Canon (or fragment): Dated to sometime between 170 and 200, the list not only names twenty-two New Testament books, but it includes the book of Wisdom, which is curiously placed between John’s letters and the book of Revelation (Coakley and Sterk 67; Thomas 31).

Next up is Origen of Alexandria (ca. 185 – 254), one of multiple key individuals who aligned with the Jewish claim that the Hebrew collection of Scripture totaled twenty-two books. In making this claim, Origen and his contemporaries helped spark the debate over which books referred to as “scripture” within the Church should be included in the Christian canon. On one hand, Origen did indeed acknowledge the twenty-book Hebrew cannon, and this is confirmed in a fragment from the early Church historian Eusebius, who quotes Origen proclaiming that “the canonical books, as the Hebrews have handed them down, are twenty-two” (Thomas 31; Horn 68).

On the other hand, Origen not only acknowledged and defended the Septuagint as authoritative within the Church (Thomas; McDonald 34), but he also identified several of the deuterocanonical books as “holy scripture” (Horn 69). Moreover, Origen suggested books such as Ether, Tobit, Wisdom, and Judith as pre-requisite reading for the Psalms and the Gospels — even despite pointing out that Jews did not read from books such as Judith and Tobit (McDonald 34; Horn 69).

In any case, one many wonder why Origen had a keen interest in the Hebrew canon. This is partly because Origen knew the majority of Jews had dismissed the Greek Old Testament (Thomas 32); therefore, he did not see Christian apologetics for Jews as having much benefit unless he could, in modern speak, “meet them where they’re at’.” That is, the Hebrew canon was common ground material to show why Jesus is the Messiah (Horn 70; Thomas 32). Still, the great paradox here is that Origen unabashedly cites from deuterocanonical books in his own writings.

But Origen is not the only example. Another important voice in the discussion about the deuterocanonical books is Melito, a second century bishop and Church Father from the Asia Minor city of Sardis, and who passed away shortly before Origen was born. Notably, Melito is often paired with Origen because he, too, emphasized the Hebrew canon — although the story of how he arrived at his conclusion has its own oddities. The story begins with Melito, on behalf of his friend, Onesimus, traveling to Palestine to find out firsthand what the Jewish authorities had judged as accepted holy books (Thomas 31; McDonald 34).

Melito then returned home with even more vigor about the necessity of the Hebrew canon, confirming that the book count was twenty-two in total. However, as the Tanak would eventually become the settled Hebrew canon, Melito’s list did not quite match, having left out Esther and Lamentations (Horn 70). On top of that, Melito included four books of Kingdoms (McDonald 34) — though there are only the two books of Kings in the Tanak – and he ironically included the Wisdom of Solomon (Thomas 31).

Meanwhile, although books such as Esther were still disputed book in Melito’s time, what stands out here is that while both Melito and Origen paid homage to the Hebrew canon, the differences in book lists throughout the Mediterranean again demonstrate that there was no universal Hebrew canon yet  — and now over two hundred years after Christ’s death and resurrection. Furthermore, just as Origen drew from the Hebrew canon to defend Christian belief to Jews, “a similar need may lie behind Melito’s list for he is known to have made a collection of testimonies from the Jewish canon” (Horn 70).

All the same, Origen and Melito were two of several influential Christians – and prior to fourth century councils such as Nicaea, Rome, Hippo, and Carthage — who collectively cited, well over one hundred times, from the deuterocanonical books (Horn 70). This is not to suggest that the deuterocanonical books were cited as often as the books from the Hebrew canon; however, what may surprise some readers is that some of the disputed books — e.g., Tobit, 2 Maccabees, and Sirach — were read from more frequently than many of the Hebrew canon books. (McDonald 31). In a nutshell, Christians in antiquity were not entirely certain about the “precise boundaries of Jewish Scriptures” (Thomas 31).

Moving into the fourth century, the idea of a closed Hebrew canon was not only ambiguous, but the means for distinguishing books as canonical versus scripture, or as both, were not quite clear either. This became an even more widespread concern in the fourth and fifth centuries, which are among the most monumental periods in Catholic Church history: Christianity was legalized under the Roman Empire in 313 AD; four of the most influential debates about Christology occurred (Nicaea I, Constantinople I, Ephesus, and Chalcedon); and the seventy-three-book canon of Scripture was declared at multiple regional councils (Rome, Carthage, and Hippo).

Within the fourth century alone, two codices and multiple key figures were all instrumental to the ongoing question about the Christian canon: which, or if any, of the deuterocanonical books should remain included?

Beginning with the codices – that is, bound versions of Scripture compilations prior to the printing press — the most well-known codices from the fourth century are Codex Sinaiticus and Codex Vaticanus. Beginning with Codex Sinaiticus, this collection contains five of the seven deuterocanonical books: Judith, Tobit, Sirach, Wisdom of Solomon, and 1 Maccabees (Thomas 31).

What is peculiar about Codex Sinaiticus is that some pages from Lamentations are missing, which possibly indicates that Baruch and 2 Maccabees were intended to be added right after. But this is not sweepingly conclusive. Nevertheless, the fact that the codex contains five deuterocanonical books is certainly noteworthy. What is more, Codex Sinaiticus is missing several books from the Hebrew Canon, including Joshua, Samuel, Kings, and most of the Pentateuch / Torah (Horn 74).

Next is Codex Vaticanus, which also contains five deuterocanonical books, but this time the list is as follows: Judith, Tobit, Sirach, Baruch, and Wisdom of Solomon – with 1 and 2 Maccabees missing (Thomas 31). However, also missing are Paul’s letters to Timothy, Titus, and Philemon (Horn 74). Therefore, not only was Hebrew canon not entirely closed, but neither was the Christian canon.

Then, in the fifth century, two more codices were produced: Alexandrus and Ephraemi Rescriptus (the latter one is fragmented). Alexandrus contains all of the deuterocanonical books (Horn 74), while Ephraemi Rescriptus contains only Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach — though these two books are of the only Old Testament books preserved in the codex (Thomas 31).

Additionally, and well into the late Medieval era, several other codices within Christendom were produced, and all of which contained deuterocanonical books. And some codices contained additional books not in the Hebrew canon, or sometimes contained particular deuterocanonical books for liturgical and theological purposes (De Troyer 17).

Here are just some of over a dozen examples of codices containing deuterocanonical books (De Troyer 17):

• Codex Venetus (Greek / fifth and eighth centuries): Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch.
• Codex Ambrosianus (Syriac / seventh century): Wisdom, Baruch, 1 and 2 Maccabees.
• Codex Amiatinus (Latin / eighth century): Wisdom, Sirach, Tobit, Judith.
• The Alcuin Bible (Latin / ninth century): Tobit, Judith, Wisdom, Sirach, Baruch, 1 and 2 Maccabees.
• The Paris Bibles (Latin / thirteenth century): Tobit, Judith, Wisdom, Baruch, 1 and Maccabees.

Above all, and contrary to any skeptics who claim that the deuterocanonical books do not exist in ancient or Medieval compilations of Scripture, it is clearly an historical fact that the deuterocanonical books can be found in multiple codices (Horn 74). Also, in defense against skeptics who claim that some copies of the Septuagint before the fourth century do not contain the deuterocanonical books, those same copies “lack many books in the proto-canon as well” (Horn 64).

Further, given that the deuterocanonical books within the codices are bound together with books from the Hebrew canon, it becomes quite apparent that Christian communities within the Church valued all texts together as Scripture and as nothing less (Thomas 31). And once again, the Church had an overarching role in the matter.

Therefore, it should be no great mystery for why the Catholic Church affirmed seven deuterocanonical books at the regional councils of Hippo (393) and Carthage (397), as well as at three ecumenical councils: the Second Council of Nicaea in 787, the  Council of Florence in 1442, and the Council of Trent in 1546 (Horn 74). And while it could be argued that that some of the ancient and Medieval codices did not contain all seven deuterocanonical books confirmed by the Catholic Church, there are still two important points to keep in mind:

1. The Catholic Church –and not just strictly according to the commentaries from Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers — has remained consistent in its use and canonization of the deuterocanonical books.
2. Up until the Protestant Reformation, and specifically until the early nineteenth century, the Christian world overall was largely consistent in recognizing the deuterocanonical books as having an authoritative place in the Bible.

Circling back to the fourth century – which primarily set the stage for the key regional and ecumenical councils mentioned earlier — Cyril of Jerusalem, Rufinus of Aquileia, Epiphanius of Salamis, Gregory of Nazianzus, Athanasius of Alexandria, Jerome of Stridon (and Bethlehem), and Augustine of Hippo all made significant contributions to the conversation about Scripture and what should be deemed canonical. 

To begin, Cyril of Jerusalem (ca. 315 – 387), a bishop and Doctor of the Church, continued in Origen’s and Melito’s footsteps by affirming the twenty-two book Hebrew canon (McDonald 35). Yet Cyril likewise did not count the book of Esther (Horn 72), though he put the book of Baruch on par with the Hebrew canon. Even so, he discouraged Christians from reading ‘Old Testament’ books not in the Hebrew canon, given the Jewish based influenced he experienced while living in Palestine (McDonald 27, 35).

But Cyril’s objections to books excluded from the Hebrew canon should technically have included Baruch, if he had lined up exactly with his contemporaries – and given that he rejected certain books as scriptural because they were not originally written in Hebrew (McDonald 27).

Even more peculiar is that Cyril did not approve of all New Testament books either. He particularly did not count the book of Revelation. Thus, when considering Cyril’s view of what was scriptural versus canonical, and that his version of the Hebrew canon is not the Tanak of today, Cyri’s input was apparently not authoritatively binding all around. It is always important to remember that the Church Fathers were not Church councils or an overriding authority.

Next, Rufinus of Aquileia (ca. 345 – 411) was yet another Church Father who accepted the Hebrew canon. In addition, his approach to the deuterocanonical books was to include them in the term “ecclesiastical” texts. That is, Rufinus did not view ecclesiastical books as Scripture per se, but he did believe they were inspirational texts appropriate for general reading and at the Liturgy (McDonald 27).

It was also at this time that key figures in the Catholic Church began making sharper distinctions between what they considered scriptural versus canonical — and especially contrary to books declared “apocryphal.” For example, Rufinus referred to any books outside of the New Testament, Hebrew canon, and ‘ecclesiastical’ collection as “apocrypha.” Cyril, too, stated that the books he deemed disputed as “have nothing to do with the apocryphal writings”(McDonald 27).

This leads to Epiphanius of Salamis (ca. 315 – 403), a Church Father who followed suit by affirming the twenty-two book Hebrew canon; and who also followed Rufinus’ lead by deeming Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach as ecclesiastical works, yet still important and certainly not part of the Apocrypha (McDonald 35). Epiphanius also constructed three lists he identified as canonical, and one of the lists interestingly includes Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach as part of the New Testament (Thomas 32).

Gregory of Nazianzus (ca. 330 – 390), a Cappadocian Father and Doctor of the Church, continued in the line of accepting the twenty-two book Hebrew canon, though he is another example of omitting Esther. In addition, he divided Ruth and Judges to remain consistent with the number twenty-two (McDonald 35). Nonetheless, in another example of what could appear paradoxical, Gregory is “also the author of the early Church’s most well-known sermon on Maccabean martyrs” (Thomas 32).

At any rate, while all of the above-mentioned individuals had similar views of the Hebrew canon and how to treat the deuterocanonical books, the question still remained regarding which books could be cited as Scripture, albeit non-canonical texts.

Although briefly mentioned earlier, the 39th Festal Letter from Athanasius of Alexandria (ca. 296 – 373) is a flagship work for not only referring to the twenty-seven New Testament books as canonized, but Athanasius also explains that Wisdom of Solomon, Judith, Sirach, and Tobit must continue to be used as part of catechesis for new converts (Thomas 32; McDonald 35). In addition, he encourages reading the Didache and the Shepherd of Hermes (McDonald 35).

Now, what can appear a bit confusing about Athanasius is while he “rejected the scriptural status of the deuterocanonical texts” (McDonald 35), he literally referred to Wisdom and Judith as “Scripture” (Horn 71; Thomas 32). Moreover, in the Festal Letter, Athanasius includes Baruch as one of the books in the twenty-two book Hebrew canon, while Esther once again gets cut from the line-up (Thomas 32).

Next, and in keeping in line with Rufinus and Cyril, Athanasius rejected the books referred to as “apocrypha.” His reasons included that apocryphal books were far removed from Christian traditions, had pseudonymous authors, and “were dated anachronistically to earlier times to gain approval in the churches” (McDonald 25).

This led to a necessary question: was there a non-negotiable divide between a text considered inspirational in the holy sense versus whether a text should be included as canonical? Or, more specifically, does the text fit theologically within salvation history? For instance, it has already been established that Athanasius often cites from deuterocanonical books in his works. But when getting down to brass tacks, what were the barriers that that kept some of the notable people in the early Church, and leading up to the council of Rome, from accepting the deuterocanonical books as truly canonical?

According to Lee Martin McDonald’s research, there were three reasons:

1.) Just as Jews in the first century had differing views about when prophecy ended and how that affected deuterocanonical books, some of the main contributors to Catholic theology and ecclesiology, particularly the few who lived in Palestine or were most influenced by Jews, engaged in the very same debate (28).

However, keeping in mind that Jewish spent the first two centuries AD debating prophecy timelines, that individuals such as Josephus and Philo claimed to have their own divine inspiration and prophetic foresight, and that many Jews rejected Jesus as both prophet and Messiah, Jewish influence did not have the word on Christianity’s future.

2.) Because Athanasius and his contemporaries had already rejected texts such as 1 Enoch, they also questioned other texts they viewed as having a “false attribution to well-known Biblical figures.” Thus, Baruch and Wisdom of Solomon were also considered questionable (McDonald 28).

Yet most scholars, including McDonald, have well substantiated that multiple Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers approved — and even encouraged — reading the deuterocanonical books, with some Church Fathers even qualifying the books as “Scripture” (27).

3.) Books such as Judith and Tobit contain historical and chronological errors (McDonald 28). For example, Judith 1:1 refers to Nebuchadnezzar as the king of Assyria rather than king of Babylon. And Tobit 14:11 mentions that Tobit lived for well over 150 years (Horn 57).

Even so, understanding the books of Judith and Tobit requires at least a quick introduction to how Hellenistic influenced literature was written Namely, just as the Bible itself contains different genres of literature, Hellenistic influenced writings also involved various genres.

For instance, Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach incorporate elements of Greek philosophy: one example is that Sirach relates the Torah to the Greek influenced concept of divine wisdom or ‘Sophia’ (Oegema 5).

Conversely, the books of Judith and Tobit appear to read like histories but are more likely meant to be epic like tales that include allegories about the importance of faith, hope, and courage (Oegema 8; Thomas 714, 734). Moreover, when assessing historical and chronological discrepancies in a book such as Judith, “scholars of Hellenistic Jewish literature…are well aware of how ancient authors used anachronism in order to underscore the didactic nature of their historical fiction” (Horn 59).

That is not say the key figures in early Church history had no reason at all to debate the deuterocanonical books. But just as the Church has been consistent overall in its base theology and ecclesiology, the early Church’s consistent use of the deuterocanonical books fit right in with her overall trajectory.

Nevertheless, one Church Father in the fourth century was at the center of the clash about the deuterocanonical books: St. Jerome (ca. 347 – 420). In 382, when the Council of Rome declared the seventy-three-book canon of Scripture (46 Old Testament and 27 New Testament books), Pope Damasus I tasked Jerome with translating the Old and New Testament books into a Latin version Bible — the Latin Vulgate (Irvin and Sunquist 228).

Over the next several years, Jerome produced the New Testament translation from Greek, and then followed with the Old Testament translation from the Hebrew canon (McDonald 36). The primary motivator for using the Hebrew canon was that, approximately three years after the Council of Rome, Jerome and two of his companions relocated to a monastery in Bethlehem, where they studied the Hebrew texts more in-depth and how to translate them (Irvin and Sunquist 228; Thomas 32).  It was then that Jerome formed his strong opinions about the Septuagint, calling it a rather flimsy translation of the Hebrew texts (Horn 73).

As such, Jerome believed that the Hebrews texts were more authoritative than the Greek translations. And because he had already taken issue with Greek translations of Scripture, he was often not kind in his commentary about what the Fathers were calling “ecclesiastical books” (Thomas 32). Specifically, and while keeping strictly to the tripartite order of ‘Law, Prophets, and ‘Writings’ in the Hebrew canon, Jerome rejected all seven deuterocanonical books as non-canonical; and he also rejected additions made to Esther, Daniel, and Jeremiah (McDonald 29, 36).

As for what Jerome deemed as canonical versus Scripture, his first claim was that all twenty-four books he identified as the Hebrew canon were canonical because they were all originally written in Hebrew. Then, his second claim was “whatever falls outside of these must be set apart from the Apocrypha” (McDonald 36). Granted, the Hebrew canon that Jerome favored is essentially the Tanak that the Jews hold sacred to this day (Horn 72) — yet one of Jerome’s major missteps in diminishing the Septuagint, while claiming the Hebrew canon was the ‘true’ canon, is that Jesus and the apostles clearly viewed the Septuagint as an authoritative canon.

Furthermore, Jerome is one of the most striking examples of contradicting himself when it comes to the deuterocanonical books: As mentioned earlier, Jerome frequently cites the deuterocanonical books in many of his own works. In addition, he was fully aware that Judith was confirmed as Holy Scripture at the Council of Nicaea (Thomas 32); and despite not providing new translations of other disputed texts (McDonald 27), Jerome generated new translations of Judith and Tobit per the request from multiple bishops (Thomas 32).

Even more striking is that some of the texts Jerome deemed as canonical were not in line with the books that other Church Fathers proclaimed — and what the Church declared — as both Scripture and appropriate for the Christian canon. Also, a surprising fact is that Jerome did not believe that certain New Testament books, such as Hebrews and Revelation, belonged in the Christian canon, though he considered them as Sacred Scripture.

Then again, Jerome drew from Jewish influences, as well as his own experiences, to determine canonical Scripture versus non-canonical Scripture. For instance, post-Second Temple Jews viewed some of the deuterocanonical books as holy writings (hagiographa) but not as ‘scripture’. Their reasoning was that the books were not considered theologically useful for “confirming disputed points” (Thomas 32).

Overall, and given that Catholics in the early Church did not have a universally established canon of Scripture until the late fourth century, the early Church Fathers and ecclesiastical writers did not unanimously agree on non-canonical versus canonical Scripture. And because the terms “canon” and “scripture” had not yet been fully standardized, this meant three conclusions for Jerome and his contemporaries:

1. Jerome mistakenly dismissed the Septuagint’s authority by falsely concluding that the only ‘correct’ texts were the ones written in their original language (Horn 73). If this were truly the case, then the New Testament writers, many of whom were formerly Jewish, should have quoted only from the Hebrew canon. However, the simple fact remains that a large portion of Jews during Jesus’ time viewed the Septuagint as authoritative and on par with the Hebrew texts.
2. Because the Church generally accepted the deuterocanonical books as scripture / authoritative, and they were even used for catechesis, not translating the books into Latin “would have incited tremendous backlash from the Christian community” (Horn 72).
3. Being that Jerome states in his Prologue to Tobit that it is “better to displease the opinions of the Pharisees and to be subject to the commands of bishops” (Thomas 32), he understood that despite his own significant contributions to the Catholic Church, only the Church, by the power of the Holy Spirit, could declare the Biblical canon. 

Which brings this paper to the final part of the case for the deuterocanonical books in the Christian canon: Church authority and councils. In fact, another Church Father, St. Augustine of Hippo (ca. 354 – 430) was an extraordinarily help in settling the debate (McDonald 36).

First, in his work, Against Faustus, Augustine differentiates between books that Christian theologians had produced to help edify faith and books deemed as canonical. In essence, books by Christians theologians may help one’s faith journey and give context to theological topics, but they may be lacking in the truth. In contrast, Scripture has “truth and authority guaranteed by Christ through his apostles and preserved by subsequent succession of bishops” (Thomas 30). Therefore, because Scripture is divinely inspired, it contains the theological and ecclesiastical truths that all believers must follow.

Furthermore, Augustine turned Jerome’s view of the Septuagint on its head by pointing out that “both the original Hebrew texts AND the Septuagint texts are authoritative, since it was the same Spirit who inspired both the prophets and later translators” (Thomas 32). Augustine supported his point by using the prophets as an example: God delivered his revelation to many different prophets, so why not have revelation written in more than one authoritative form? (Thomas 32, 33) The argument here is that because Jesus Christ, the Apostles, and their successors all looked to the Septuagint as authoritative, then its divine origin is a given.

Next, because Augustine’s input about the canon was remarkably influential, the confirmation of the deuterocanonical books at Rome, and specifically at Hippo and Carthage, set the standard for the Biblical canon — including the deuterocanonical books — throughout the next several centuries. Along the way, the deuterocanonical books were reaffirmed at the Nicaea II and Florence ecumenical councils, and then definitely declared in 1546 at the Council of Trent, which was a response to Protestant objections during the Reformation (Boadt 6; McDonald 42).

In between, and while the Catholic Church became increasingly structured into East and West churches, and despite three schisms (Assyrian Church of the East, Oriental Orthodox, and Eastern Orthodox) by the late Middle Ages, all churches have continued upholding the Septuagint as authoritative and thus the deuterocanonical books as well.

Conclusion

In summary, when looking at the history of how the books in the Bible were confirmed as the official canon, the Church, as both an invisible and visible institution that preserves the Deposit of Faith, holds the supreme authority on Earth. That does not mean discounting what happened ‘on the ground’ among scholars in the early Church – but, in the end, the matter was yielded to Church councils.

Thus, the Church’s role as a divinely appointed institution is crucial to understanding not only the historical reasons for why the deuterocanonical books rightly belong in the Biblical canon, but also the spiritual reasons. Furthermore, of all the Christian denominations, schisms, and so forth in the world, one Church — The Holy Catholic Church — has remained consistent in papal authority and succession since St. Peter the Apostle; and she is the only Holy-Spirit guided Church that can hold an ecumenical council and thereby solemnly declare the Biblical canon.

For non-Catholic Christians, this all may sound like triumphalism. However, the truth of the Christian faith, preserved by the Catholic Church, is the following:

• Jesus established a divinely appointed Church that he claimed cannot be destroyed, and he appointed a specific earthly head to keep the keys to God’s kingdom (Matt 16:18-19; Isaiah 22:22).
• Jesus appointed the other apostles into supporting leadership roles (Luke 9:1, 10:16; Matt.18:18; John 20:23; Matt 28:18-19).
• In turn, the apostles named successors — such as Clement, Ignatius, and Polycarp — so that the Church could continue to expand (2 Tim 1:6; Titus 1:5); and this succession –including papal succession since Peter the Apostle — has continued to this day.
• The Church continues to uphold the declarations about Scripture from the key regional and ecumenical councils mentioned in this paper.
• The Church is the “pillar and bulwark of truth” (1 Tim 3:15).
• Believers are to hold to the traditions handed down (2 Thess 2:15; 2 Tim 2:2).
• The Holy Spirit will always guide the Church into truth (John 16:13; Act 2:1-11).

Consequently, the Catholic Church has the fully appointed divine authority to preserve the Deposit of Faith, including infallibly declaring and interpreting Sacred Scripture.

Works Cited

Boadt, Lawrence. Reading the Old Testament: An Introduction. 2nd ed, Paulist, 2012.

Coakley, John W., and Andrea Sterk. Readings in World Christian History, Volume 1: Earliest Christianity to 1453. Orbis Books, 2004.

De Troyer, Kristin. “The Apocrypha, the Septuagint, and Other Greek Witnesses.” Edited by Gerben S. Oegema.The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha. New York, Ny, Oxford University Press, 2021.

Horn, Trent. The Case for Catholicism: Answers to Classic and Contemporary Protestant Objections. Ignatius Press, 2017.

Irvin, Dale T., and Scott W. Sunquist. History of the World Christian Movement: Earliest Christianity to 1453. Orbis Books, 2001.

Lim, Timothy H. “How Was the Canon Formed?” The Expository Times, vol. 133, no. 9, Apr. 2022, pp. 357–69. https://doi.org/10.1177/00145246221088365.

McDonald, Lee M. “A Canonical History of the Old Testament Apocrypha.” Edited by Gerben S. Oegema. The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha. New York, Ny, Oxford University Press, 2021.

Oegema, Gerbern S. “The Apocrypha in the Early Context of Judaism.” Edited by Gerben S. Oegema.The Oxford Handbook of the Apocrypha. New York, Ny, Oxford University Press, 2021.

Thomas, Matthew J. “The Catholic Canon of Scripture.” Ignatius Catholic Study Bible, RSV, Second Catholic Edition. Ignatius Press, 2024.