It was time for Jon to finish his prepared statement. “Translations of the new material in Mark 16 and Second Acts will also be available in the narthex after our conference. These may be freely copied and used anywhere-with only one exception: they may not be appended to any new editions of the New Testament or the Holy Bible by any publisher. The Institute of Christian Origins holds the international copyrights for all the new material and will prosecute any publisher anywhere trying to add Mark 16 and Second Acts to any projected new version of the Bible or the New Testament.
“I’m now open for your questions. In each case, please wait until a page brings you a microphone and first identify yourselves as you start speaking.”
Representatives of the press and the media were seated in the front of the sanctuary on the opposite side of the aisle from the religious leaders. Jon recognized a man in the fifth row.
“David van Biema, Time. I’m intrigued by your last statement, Professor Weber. Why that restriction? Why couldn’t the new material be published in future Bibles? Is there some question about its authenticity?”
“No, David, not at all. In fact, there’s a separate handout in the narthex showing all our test results to date, and they’re all positive. The reason we can’t permit the inclusion of this material in future Bibles at this time is because that would require opening the canon of Holy Scripture, and we simply cannot arrogate to ourselves so solemn a responsibility. Only an ecumenical council of the entire church could make such a decision.”
“Do you think that could happen? Will happen?”
Yes, Jon wanted to say, but he held his tongue and simply replied, “Again, the church will have to decide.” He looked toward another reporter. “Yes?”
“Mark Galli, Christianity Today. But wouldn’t that be very difficult, Professor Weber? Most Christians assume that the canon of Scripture is closed. I can almost hear fundamentalists using Deuteronomy 4:2: ‘You shall not add to the word which I command you, nor take from it; that you may keep the commandments of the Lord your God.’”
“Indeed, but that passage, as you know, refers to Mosaic law rather than the whole canon of Scripture itself. But you’re right, Mark: opening the Canon could prove terribly difficult and provoke the darkest suspicions, however unjustified, among some of the faithful… Yes?”
“Hang Wha Sing, Taipei Telegraph. What means Canon, and how books get into ‘Canon’?”
“Yes, sorry. I should have defined that earlier. Canon comes from the Greek word kanown, which means ‘rule’ or ‘standard.’ It’s the authoritative list of books that belong either in the Old or New Testament. The early church included in the Canon only those books that were written by eyewitnesses or those who had immediate contact with eyewitnesses, and that were widely used in worship, and that were consistent with the other teachings of Christianity. The new material in the Constantine Codex more than satisfies all three criteria… Yes?”
“But the Canon is still closed!” the tall figure nearly shouted. “Oh-Jimmy Lee Curtis, Southern Baptist Messenger.”
“ Is it really closed, Mr. Curtis? One of our great Greek textual scholars, the now-sainted Professor Bruce Metzger of Princeton, has an interesting passage in his book The Canon of the New Testament that speaks to this very point.” Jon had the book at his lectern and read aloud: “One may also speculate what the Church should do if a hitherto unknown document were to turn up that, on unimpeachable external and internal grounds, could be proven to have been written, let us say, by the apostle Paul… Though from a theoretical point of view the way is open for the possible addition of another book or epistle to the New Testament canon, it is problematic that any would, let us say, meet the standards, either ancient or modern, of accreditation.” ^ 1
Jon closed the book and commented, “That was almost prophetic on the part of Professor Metzger. But now you’ll understand why the matter of canonicity must be left up to an ecumenical church council… Yes?”
“Cedric Marshall, London Times. What about the other alternative? If a book could be added to the New Testament canon, might one or another also be subtracted from the Canon?”
A bit of commotion greeted that query. Jon smiled. “I will admit that several members of our Institute of Christian Origins suggested that the book of Revelation might be surrendered in favor of Second Acts-to keep the number of biblical books at sixty-six. They were not serious, of course, but merely concerned about how often Revelation is misinterpreted today. But no, I’m confident that no church council would ever try to subtract any book from our present Canon. Yes?”
“Willis Torrington, Sydney Times. Don’t you think there will be a huge outcry from conservative Christians across the world that you are tampering with their Holy Book, that you are changing God’s Word, so to speak?”
“There may indeed be such an outcry, Mr. Torrington. But such Christians should know that we’d be the very last to try to shake anyone’s faith. Instead, our ICO scholars are firmly convinced that not one syllable of the new material conflicts with anything in the Bible but instead correlates perfectly with everything else in it. In fact, it nicely supplements the New Testament. If you’ll pardon a personal reference, I think my wife, Shannon, put it rather well: ‘Two missing pieces in the mosaic of Scripture have finally been located and are now in place.’… Yes?”
“Diego Bustamente, O Dia, Rio de Janeiro. Do you think other books of the Bible will be discovered in the future, Dr. Weber?”
Jon thought for a moment, then smiled and replied, “I truly doubt that. The canon of the Hebrew Bible-that’s the Old Testament, according to Christians-is complete, and not even the new manuscript discoveries among the Dead Sea Scrolls have changed that. To be sure, the Ecumenical Patriarch and his scholars have been going through all literary materials at the patriarchate in Istanbul, but now nothing seems to be missing from the New Testament canon-except for one lost epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians… Yes?”
“Luigi Cherubini, Osservatore Romano. In your Second Acts document, Professore, when the burial of St. Paul is described, does Luke tell us where this took place?”
“Yes, he does in fact, as you will note when you read the text. It happened on the Ostian Way, near the city walls of Rome.”
“Really? Perhaps where our Basilica of St. Paul Outside the Walls stands today?”
Jon made eye contact with the ruddy face in row three that belonged to Kevin Sullivan as he smiled and said, “That could well be the case, Mr. Cherubini… Yes?”
“Brian Williams, NBC Television. What will happen to the codex after this conference, Professor Weber? Where might scholars consult it in the future?”
“For the next month, the codex will be on display at Widener Library at Harvard University, Mr. Williams, under maximum security of course. Probably, though, most scholars will use enhanced facsimiles of the codex, as have our ICO committees in Cambridge. This is the same group that prepared the translations and brief commentaries available after the conference. The codex remains the property of the Ecumenical Patriarch, of course, and he will decide its ultimate disposition… Yes?”
“Trevor Hardwicke, the BBC, London. Do you think there will be an ecumenical council of the church to discuss reopening the Canon?”
“Only the future will tell.”
“But don’t you have personal feelings on the matter?”
“I do indeed, Mr. Hardwicke. And I think they’re… rather obvious by now… Yes?”
“Gamal Hashemi, Al Jazeera. On another matter, Professor Weber, do you and Grand Sheikh Abbas al-Rashid plan to have another debate?”
Jon was startled by the query, out of context as it was. Then he replied, “Nothing is scheduled at this time, but I’d like to take this opportunity to commend Dr. Abbas al-Rashid as one of the most extraordinary personalities I have ever encountered, a man of great nobility and wisdom and clearly an example of Islam at its finest. We both look forward to a continuing and rewarding friendship.” Jon knew that further details on how Abbas had saved the codex might endanger his position in the Muslim world.
He now looked at his watch. “I see that it’s approaching noon, patient ladies and gentlemen, so it’s time to close. The e-mail address for our ICO in Cambridge is listed in the handouts, and we have a staff ready to answer your further questions.
“Finally, I must announce that, ultimately, only one person discovered the Constantine Codex, not two. And that person is my beloved wife. Please stand up, Shannon.”
Taken by surprise and with her face flushing a pretty pink, she rose to a standing ovation, then shook her head in embarrassment as it continued.
What a woman, Jon thought. She could easily have taken the microphone today instead of me. And probably done a better job in the process!
Not since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls in 1947 was there such a media mania. Any editor who had not sent reporters to Manhattan on that memorable day now seemed left in the dust once the immense implications of the find became clear on the wire services.
Back at Harvard, Jon’s life was no longer his own. If half a dozen network interview requests failed to arrive before noon each day, it must have been because Marylou was turning them down, per Jon’s orders. Larry King, willing to come out of retirement for such a big story, pleaded at least once a week to have Jon on his show. Jay Leno offered him the sole guest spot on The Tonight Show -something he had never done before-while David Letterman tried, via Shannon, to have them both on his CBS Late Show. 60 Minutes, 48 Hours, and even Oprah Winfrey fared no better. Jon was not affecting any contrived humility. He simply wanted to avoid showbiz at this point and let the newly discovered texts speak for themselves. They were of greatest importance, not the people involved in handling them.
Publishers were even worse, both domestic and foreign. All of them, it seemed, wanted to bring out fresh editions of the Holy Bible with the new material included. Jon and the ICO steadfastly refused any thought of permitting this and even filed an international injunction against a publisher who attempted to do so.
The next most frequent query from publishers was this: would the ICO permit the Markan ending and Second Acts to be printed as a separate publication? As Jon had stated at the press conference in Manhattan, the answer was yes. For such a separate format, the ICO had indeed placed the material into the public domain, but it was not to be boxed with the Bible, not to have a cover resembling the Bible, or have the words Bible, Scripture, or the New Testament in any combination on the separate cover.
Gauging how the Constantine Codex was being received in world Christendom became a favorite hobby for Richard Ferris. Almost every day he would drop in on Jon with his latest gleanings. “The mainline Protestants are solidly for accepting our addenda,” he said, “and so are Rome and Constantinople. And you got that wonderfully cordial letter from Benedict XVI, so you know all about Rome, Jon.”
“Yes, but what about the evangelicals? Or the fundamentalists?”
“A few of the evangelicals are raising questions, but most are extremely happy about the codex. In fact, some evangelical scholars had even predicted manuscript finds such as this.”
“And the fundies?”
Dick smiled. “Well, predictably, there we have some problems. A few of their television apostles have denounced you and tried to discredit the codex. They’ve been thundering away about how you were doing the devil’s work, but-funny thing-they didn’t raise much of a response from their adoring fans. They didn’t go wild, as they usually do, when their spokesman targets something or someone.”
“Maybe because they’re more intelligent than their idols,” Jon remarked. “Many of them read, you know, and our news magazines have reprinted large sections of Second Acts-and all of Mark’s ending-so they can see for themselves how beautifully it fits with the biblical record.”
“True enough. But now for the piece de resistance, Jon. I’ve saved the best for last.” Ferris had a huge grin on his face. “Here’s how the AP covered a comment by someone you know. Name happens to be Melvin Morris Merton.”
Jon groaned. “Here we go again. So that’s why the AP called me for a statement yesterday. And what did our manic minister have to say this time?”
“Read and enjoy.” He thrust page two of the morning New York Times onto Jon’s desk. He picked it up and read: San Antonio, TX (AP)-The Rev. Melvin Morris Merton denounced the Constantine Codex this past Sunday in a sermon during his current Texas crusade. He called the document a fraud, and Professor Jonathan and Shannon Weber, the discoverers, “aiders and abettors of fraud, perhaps even the hoaxers themselves.” “The so-called Second Acts isn’t even an original concept,” Merton said. “In 1801, a man named C. S. Sonnini translated and published in London an original Greek manuscript that has the concluding material of Acts in the form of a chapter 29. Scholars have long been looking for such a document, so it seems that Dr. Weber has conveniently ‘provided’ another one. Christians should take this one no more seriously than other frauds perpetrated upon the church. I have no doubt that Sonnini’s ‘Acts 29’ is far more ‘authentic’ than what Professor Weber claims to have found. “This is just another sign that Christ will return very soon,” Merton said. “One of the most important markers that the end is near will be when the Antichrist-or people doing the work of the Antichrist like Professor Weber-try to deceive the public.” Neither Professor Jonathan Weber nor his wife Shannon could be reached for comment at this time, although sources assume they are still in the Greater Boston area.
“What a pile of garbage!” Jon said as he finished the piece. “Can’t anyone put a muzzle on that braying donkey? Why in the world would the AP and the Times take that man seriously?”
“Probably because you didn’t return the AP’s call.”
“Good point, Dick. I’m on it.”
Jon opened his laptop and hammered out a statement. In an Associated Press dispatch yesterday from San Antonio, the Rev. Melvin Morris Merton tried to impugn the authenticity of the Constantine Codex by claiming that a manuscript translation by C. S. Sonnini from the nineteenth century, titled “Acts 29,” had greater validity. No scholar in the world has taken the Sonnini document seriously, since it has St. Paul visiting Britain, where he meets druids who claim descent from Hebrews who were in Egyptian bondage. Supposedly Paul then traveled to Gaul, Belgium, and finally Switzerland, where he prayed at Mount Pilatus that God would send a sign proving that Pontius Pilate committed suicide there. “Acts 29” goes on to claim that a great earthquake followed, waters of a lake in the mountain turned into the form of Jesus on the cross, and a voice from heaven absolved Pilate of guilt over his role on Good Friday. If Reverend Merton prefers to believe this clumsy forgery rather than the Constantine Codex, he is welcome to it. His latest attack on my wife Shannon and me in connection with the codex does not merely border on libel but is fully libelous in fact. Considering the source, however, I will not exert a moment’s effort in filing a suit. Reverend Merton’s sad record speaks for itself, and I extend my sympathy to all his followers.
“What say, Richard? Approve?”
Ferris read the screen on Jon’s laptop, chuckled, and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Then it’s enough for that flake. What I really wanted to do was quote an old Chinese proverb as a bit of advice for Merton: ‘It is better to let people think you are a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.’”
While Merton’s negative responses were frivolous, others were not. Most criticism came from responsible conservative Christian theologians who were not disputing the authenticity of the codex, but who worried lest the new material be included in the Canon. Opening the Canon would set a dreadful precedent, they argued, and could lead to “hopelessly subjective tampering with God’s Word,” as one of them wrote. “Our present Bible has served us well for the past two thousand years, so there’s no need to change it now.”
Jon, Shannon, and the ICO made no attempt to respond to such informed concern, since the issue was entirely out of their hands and was instead something that time and the global church would have to decide. They did, however, notice a powerful swelling support for calling an ecumenical church council to discuss the issue.
The swell became a near tidal wave two months later when Monsignor Kevin Sullivan served as Vatican spokesman at a much-heralded press conference in Rome. He began by reporting that archaeologists had returned to the basilica of St. Paul to resume work on what was believed to be the tomb of the great apostle. His next statements would produce world headlines. “A thin probe was inserted through a small hole in the lid of the marble sarcophagus through which pilgrims used to drop petitions. Because the hole had since been mortared over, drilling was necessary. In the words of Vatican archaeologist Giuseppe Montini, ‘We drilled a hole only where there had been a hole.’ Strobe photography through small cameras attached to the probe revealed much of the interior, which showed skeletal remains partially covered with purple linen that was laminated with gold trim, some of which the probe was also able to retrieve. Small bone fragments were also recovered, which were then subject to radiocarbon testing. The tests revealed an age of about eighteen hundred to nineteen hundred years, thus a provenance from the first or second century. “This is powerful evidence not only that the mortal remains of the apostle Paul are inside, but it also confirms, and is confirmed by, the recently discovered manuscript titled Second Acts within the Constantinian Codex. The last lines in that document tell of the execution of the apostle Paul, his burial in a purple cloak near the Ostian Way, and even the detail regarding a wooden cross placed on his chest. Such a cross was indeed discovered atop the sternum of skeletal remains in the sarcophagus. “Furthermore, the skull and highest neck vertebrae in these remains are separated from the rest of the spinal column, testifying to death by decapitation, exactly as church tradition and, most recently, the Constantinian Codex have indicated. “Accordingly, church tradition and archaeology have now confirmed both the identity of the skeletal remains and the authenticity of this newly discovered text. This is indeed a marvelous day in the history of Christianity!”
Over the next months, a prodigious number of scholarly papers dealing with the Constantine Codex were read at special theological conferences across the world. Just as the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls spawned entire libraries of monographs, dissertations, articles, books, commentaries, and indices, so the codex soon became the central focus of academic attention.
Jon and Shannon had to curb overzealous colleagues in the ICO who were pleading with them to become publicly proactive in the gathering momentum to have the new codex material admitted into the Canon. They steadfastly refused because it would detract from the objectivity of their discovery were they to declare, in effect, “We discovered this material, and now we want it in the Bible.”
Accordingly, news several months later greeted them as a shock, albeit a happy one. The Vatican in Rome and the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Istanbul made the announcement simultaneously at noon on September 15 (1 p.m. in Istanbul). His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI and His All Holiness Patriarch Bartholomew II invited world Christendom to an ecumenical council to be held in the city of Jerusalem beginning on March 15, six months hence. The conclave would be known officially as the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem. The purpose of the council was to discuss matters involving the canon of the New Testament, although other items of general concern to Christianity would also be part of the agenda.
Jon was on the phone to Kevin Sullivan the moment he finished reading the announcement, which had flashed across his computer screen, courtesy of Reuters.
“Thanks for letting me know about this in advance, Kevin,” Jon said in what passed for a tone of annoyance, whether feigned or genuine.
“Sorry, Jon. I was going to call you this evening, since I thought the announcement wouldn’t come until tomorrow. Benedict sometimes does things without the benefit of my advice.”
Jon chuckled. “Not a problem! So it’s really going to happen, is it? But why Jerusalem and not Rome?”
“Well, we had the last one-Vatican III-so it was time for the East-Constantinople. But Muslim Istanbul is hardly the best place on earth for a great Christian gathering, is it? Jerusalem’s in the East, and Israelis are a shade more hospitable to Christians.”
“Figures. But now to the big question, Kev: format?”
“You’ll be glad to know that we’re following the suggestion you made the last time I was in the U.S., just before I had to fly back to Rome.”
“You mean the ‘Logan Plan’?”
“The same. Remember, I wanted to call it the ‘Weber Plan,’ but in your great humility, you deflected the name to that of the airport instead?”
“That’s right, Kev; I’m famous for my humility!”
Both chuckled at the oxymoron.
“Well, we’re going to use that plan,” Kevin continued. “All participating church bodies will be assured that any decisions made by the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem will be advisory only, not binding. If individual church bodies wish to endorse them officially or not is up to them.”
“Fabulous. It’s really the best way to go. We agreed that the new council will not have the overpowering authority of the great ecumenical councils of the past, or the smaller delegations across the world could get paranoid.”
“Exactly. And yet decisions by the council will have major importance for all of Christendom since most of the world’s Christian church bodies will be represented.”
“True enough. Well, it looks like you’ll be busy again with the invitation list, no?”
“You’ve got that right, but using the list for Vatican III as a template should be helpful.”
Jon thought for a moment. “Wait, it should really be easier, right? Last time the heads of state and many others came to Vatican III. This time it’ll be only churchmen and scholars, right?”
“Right. And of course, you’ll be there, Jon, won’t you? And Shannon?”
“We haven’t been invited…”
“You are now, you blazing buffoon! Oh, and a personal message from His Holiness: in the name of the See of Rome and all over whom he has supervision, Benedict extends profound thanks to you and Shannon.”
“And our greetings, no, blessings to him!”
“By the way, it’s looking good for opening the Canon, so far as Catholics are concerned. I haven’t heard much negative flak, even from our rigorists.”
“Wow! That’s a happy surprise. And the Eastern Church seems favorably disposed too.”
“So! Do you really think our Bible will expand just a bit?”
“That, my friend, is for the Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem to decide.”
Jon and Shannon flew to Israel a week before the Jerusalem Council was set to begin. One reason for their early arrival was to take a nostalgic excursion. Their “sacred romance,” as they called it, had unfolded in the Holy Land. Here they had first met one another-she, the daughter of the famed British archaeologist Austin Balfour Jennings, and he, the Harvard prof on sabbatical who stumbled onto something at their dig that merely set the entire world on edge.
They rented a car at Ben Gurion International Airport and drove north along the Mediterranean coastlands to the Megiddo Pass, thence, over the hills of Nazareth to their favorite haunt in Israel, the seaside city of Tiberias. It was along the western shore of the Sea of Galilee at Tiberias that the two had finally unveiled their feelings for one another. Several months earlier, they had fallen in love, but neither dared reveal that wondrous secret to the other. Jon was more timid about it than Shannon, who asked him for their first hug one evening after dinner when they were taking a moonlight swim in that immortal lake. The explosive joy suffusing Jon when they kissed rapturously after that first hug he later called “one of the greatest moments in my life.”
Again they rented a sailboat and plied the very waters that Jesus had so masterfully controlled in calming waves or making them buoyant enough to serve as his personal sidewalk. Again they roared over the memory of a boatload of pilgrims ogling them as they were making out while becalmed in the middle of the Sea. Again they scampered across the waterfalls at the head of the Jordan up at Caesarea Philippi. What a blessing was Galilee at the time of Jesus-what a blessing now to Jonathan and Shannon Weber.
The Ecumenical Council of Jerusalem became a world event almost from the start. Its festive opening took place inside the holiest shrine of Christendom: the Church of the Holy Sepulchre in the Old City of Jerusalem. This was the very Golgotha where Jesus was crucified but then resurrected from the nearby tomb situated under the great rotunda at the western end of the sanctuary.
“All this may be sacred,” Shannon remarked to Jon, “but what I’d love to see here instead would be the open hillock of Golgotha and a tomb with a rolling stone as a door.”
“You don’t go for all the candles and lanterns and icons and incense, I take it?”
“The endless crowds and the hubbub don’t help either. But I’ve finally learned to control my disappointment.”
“What’s your formula?”
“I just shut my eyes and realize that in terms of longitude and latitude on earth, this is where it all happened.”
“Otherwise it could get to you,” he agreed. “And it’s hard to believe that a Muslim is the warden here with the keys, to keep peace between Roman Catholics and Eastern Orthodox. Some centuries ago, they actually shed blood over the boundaries of their separate enclaves inside the church.”
“Let’s hope that’s history now.”
They hurried over to the central nave of the church for the opening service of the ecumenical council, from which the army of pilgrims had temporarily been excluded in view of the equal host of churchmen filing inside. What impressed Jon and Shannon the most, however, was not the magnificent sacred music and solemn liturgy that followed, but the moment when the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Bishop of Rome embraced publicly and sincerely. This was not a simple Bartholomew-meet-Benedict formality, they knew, but a very powerful and moving symbol of reconciliation after centuries of hostility. The three thousand church leaders present shouted hosanna s and applauded wildly.
As a further exercise in ecumenicity, several of the council worships would also be held in the beautiful white interior of Redeemer Lutheran Church in the Old City-the church nearest Golgotha-as well as at St. George’s Episcopal Cathedral at the northeastern edge of Jerusalem.
“I asked Kevin how he ever brought that off,” Jon commented to Shannon.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, Orthodox and Roman Catholics worshiping in a Protestant church-when they’re quite sure they’re not part of the true church?”
“What did Kevin say?”
“That both Benedict and Bartholomew agreed on the arrangement because it would be ‘an irenic gesture to the separated brethren.’ But he had a little more trouble convincing the other Protestants that Anglican and Lutheran sanctuaries, as those of the two largest Protestant denominations, would have to represent all Protestants. Still, they finally agreed.”
“It’s a new era, Jon.”
Jon and Shannon spent most of their time in the Holy City attending sessions of the Ecumenical Council. These were held at the National Convention Center in West Jerusalem, wired as it was for simultaneous language translations and the latest in media technology, including electronic voting.
In the interests of balance and fairness, the council was chaired on alternate days by the Ecumenical Patriarch and the Pope. Voting delegates, all of whom were the highest officers of their respective church bodies, were allotted in terms of percentage of world Christian church membership size, which yielded the following results for the 2,800 delegates: 1,390 Roman Catholics 352 Eastern Orthodox 236 Anglican 232 Lutheran 590 other Protestants
To prevent Roman Catholicism from controlling the conclave, however, it was agreed that for the great issues at the council, passage of a measure would have to be approved by no less than three-quarters of the delegates, a true super-majority. This was also designed to showcase Christian unity, if possible.
“Our paragon example here,” Jon told Shannon, “was the Council of Nicaea in 325, where they decided the greatest issue by a vote of 312 to 2.”
“Not exactly a cliff-hanger.”
“Right. No hanging chads.”
Shannon grew serious and asked, “Jon, tell me true: how do you rate our chances? We hear a lot of threats and saber rattling from the far right, also in the Catholic and Orthodox camps…”
“True. They also have their rigorists who’ve been condemning the council in advance for admitting Protestants. ‘They’re not part of Christ’s true church on earth,’ they scream.”
Shannon started chuckling. “But that claim doesn’t get very far, since that’s the very same thing Catholics say about Orthodox and vice versa.”
“Exactly. I’m more concerned that all the fundamentalists-Protestant, Catholic, or Orthodox-are uniting on the slogan Don’t break God’s Word by tearing the Bible open! They seem to be raising a rage with it in the media. It’s catchy, but simplistic and wrongheaded.”
“And yet you and Kevin always seem so upbeat about the possibilities of success.”
“I know. That could be a big mistake, though I do have one reason for hope: the ultras-right or left wing-rarely get elected to leadership posts in their church bodies, and it’s the leaders who are delegates here.”
“Speaking of which, here they come.”
It was quite a sight indeed. Filing into the convention hall were two popes/patriarchs-actually, three, since Coptic Pope Shenouda III was there-a variety of cardinals, archbishops, bishops, metropolitans, archimandrites, abbots, moderators, presbyters, presidents, and other colorful names of Christian magistrates. If their offices had different titles, so did their apparel, which ranged from pure white for the Bishop of Rome and pure black for the Ecumenical Patriarch to every variety of color and style in between, with the African delegates taking the prize for showing every tint in the rainbow. Some of the churchmen were hirsute, others bald by nature or intention. Some were bearded, others clean-shaven.
“I haven’t seen such variety since the UN in New York,” Shannon observed.
“Too bad we’re only observers here, Shannon. Otherwise we could have joined the parade.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
He merely grinned.
The Council of Jerusalem did not take on the issue of the Canon until later. First there were some animated preliminaries, since the rare opportunity to solve problems affecting all of Christendom could not be missed. It took an entire week of debate before Roman Catholic and Lutheran bishops admitted that they misnumbered the Ten Commandments and finally abandoned St. Augustine’s mistake in parking the true second commandment against idolatry under the first.
“Remember, Shannon, he was afraid that the ‘You shall make no image or likeness’ commandment would ruin art among Christians as it had among Jews,” Jon commented, “when idolatry was the only issue in play here.”
“I do know my church history, Jon,” she replied, affecting a pout that quickly changed to a grin. “So now Augustine has only nine commandments instead of ten. What does he do? He takes the least offensive commandment-coveting-and cuts into two for nine and ten.”
Jon breathed a sigh of relief. “From now on, the whole Christian world can agree that ‘Don’t kill’ is number six, and ‘No adultery’ is number seven.”
Then another great concession was made-this time from Eastern Orthodoxy. While the Council of Nicaea had agreed that Easter should be celebrated on a day -Sunday-rather than on a date -as in the case of Christmas, Eastern and Western Christendom still rarely celebrated the Festival of the Resurrection together. Why? The Eastern church still used the old Julian calendar, whereas the West adopted the Gregorian ever since 1582. The council agreed on the latter but changed the name to the “Common Calendar,” since Gregory was a Western pope.
“Hard to believe,” Shannon said, “but when to celebrate Easter almost split the early church. Now there’s even talk of making the first Sunday in April the universal time to celebrate the Resurrection.”
Jon nodded. “It’s a really excellent idea, but I think it’s going to be tabled for a future council to decide. They’re hanging on to the rules for when Jews celebrate the Passover.”
And finally the Council of Jerusalem turned to matters canonical. No longer would Jon and Shannon be passive observers.
The debates were long and, at times, impassioned, but they largely stayed on track. Both Shannon and Jon were asked to testify in detail as to their discovery of the Constantine Codex.
Before Shannon stepped up to the dais, she asked him, “Is this really happening, Jon? My addressing the council?”
“History is being made at this very moment, my darling. A woman has never before addressed a church council, and it’s high time.”
“I’m… just a bit nervous.”
“Don’t be, sweetheart. Break a leg! Just be yourself and tell it like it was.”
Shannon did just that. Jon was never more proud of her, as she once again recounted the chain of events that began with the dig at Pella. She was poised, confident, and convincing. Knowing that there were a few misogynists at the council, Jon mused, I’ll bet they’re shocked that a woman could even bring this off.
When it came to his turn, Jon continued the improbable story of the Constantine Codex but never made any recommendations as to its canonicity. He even applauded the Vatican for “discovering” the remains of St. Paul without tying this into the codex. His objectivity was obvious, although everyone could read between the lines.
His testimony was followed by that of Christianity’s most authoritative Greek manuscript scholars. When their opinions were added to the scientific evidence, the debate over the authenticity of the codex concluded rather quickly.
As Jon and Shannon left the convention hall that afternoon, Katie Couric of CBS News buttonholed them and asked, “It looks rather good for opening the Canon, doesn’t it, Professor Weber?”
Jon shook his head. “Authenticity of the codex is one thing, but including the new material in the Canon is quite another.”
“Do you mean that the council, after all this evidence, might still vote against including the last of Mark and Second Acts in the Canon?”
“That’s exactly what they might do.”
The date was July 10. The time was 3 p.m. Every argument on both sides of the issue had been aired. A few church magnates, known to be garrulous, tried to extend debate so that their set speeches would also be included in the official record of the council. That prompted Shannon’s whisper to Jon, “Everything’s been said, but not everyone has said it.”
Jon chuckled, leaned over, and kissed her cheek. “Oh, oh,” he murmured, “I wonder if that’s ever been done before at an ecumenical council?”
She grinned and tickled his ribs. “Or that either.”
Now, by a vast majority vote, the council voted to end further discussion. All knew what would come next. A hush of silence filled the vast hall. The atmosphere was electric with expectation. Jon and Shannon clutched hands.
His All Holiness Bartholomew II now stood and led the entire council in a solemn prayer, invoking God the Holy Spirit to guide their vote. Then he announced solemnly, “My colleagues in Christ, if it is your sacred conviction that the newly discovered ending to the Gospel of Mark should be regarded as valid by the church and added to the canonical Gospel of Mark after chapter 16, verse 8, then please vote Yes on your keypads. If not, vote No. Please vote… now!”
On a giant computer screen hanging over the dais, the data came on slowly. The first image on the screen gave the statistic: “Of 2,797 votes cast, 2,790 are valid.”
“Why’s that?” Shannon asked Jon, in a whisper. “What about the other seven?”
“Seven delegates probably pressed both yes and no. Or they tried to change their vote.”
“Oh.”
Endless moments seemed to pass. The screen remained dark. All Jon and Shannon’s efforts over the past months-the whole extraordinary odyssey-was now compressed into electronics that would fire pixels on a screen declaring their success or failure. Jon’s grip on Shannon’s hand tightened even more.
Suddenly the screen came alive. To the left was a tall green column, showing 2,694 votes in favor. On the right side was a very low graph in red, showing only 96 negative votes. Jon and Shannon embraced each other in tears. The convention center erupted in deafening applause and cheering.
When Bartholomew finally reestablished order, he said, “The Holy Spirit has indeed spoken through you, my beloved colleagues. I prayed that this would be your decision! I now turn the gavel over to my most esteemed brother in Christ, the Bishop of Rome.”
Jon wiped his eyes and whispered, “The next vote is still in doubt, darling. The Mark ending doesn’t really open the Canon. Second Acts will.”
She nodded. “They could call Mark’s a textual variant. Well, half a loaf is better than none.”
Benedict XVI stood and also solemnly invoked the Holy Spirit to guide their decision. Then he announced, “My colleagues in Christ, if it is your sacred conviction that the newly discovered Third Treatise to Theophilus, popularly known as Second Acts, should be regarded as valid and added to the canon of the New Testament following the canonical book of Acts, please vote Yes on your keypad. If not, vote No. Please vote… now.”
Again Jon and Shannon were taut with tension. For some reason, the phrase “You win some; you lose some” flitted across his mind, causing his heart to pound.
Again the huge screen came to life and reported, “Of 2,794 votes cast, 2,794 are valid.”
“Looks like they all got it right this time,” Jon whispered.
“But there are three fewer votes. Wonder what happened…”
“Three delegates probably had to go to the john,” he responded.
“Happens,” she chuckled, grateful for a wisp of humor to relieve their anxiety.
Again it seemed an eternity, waiting for the screen to return to life. Shannon had closed her eyes. Jon assumed she was probably in prayer to a God who could intervene even in electronics if it came to that. Their clasped hands showed knuckles in white.
The screen flashed on. Two graph columns again materialized. To the left stood a tall green column that registered 2,665 votes in favor, and to the right its stubby red neighbor with only 129 votes.
Jon grabbed Shannon in a crushing hug. Thunderous applause and boisterous cheering followed. Benedict indulged it all for several minutes before banging his gavel, fruitlessly. Again, it was a super-super-majority.
A new page had been turned in the history of Christianity. Its Holy Bible now had sixty-seven books rather than sixty-six.
Now the entire Ecumenical Council rose and joined in singing the Common Doxology in dozens of different languages, though with the same melody: Praise God from Whom all blessings flow, Praise Him, all creatures here below; Praise Him above, ye heavenly host, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost!
Although Jon and Shannon had sung the familiar verse hundreds of times, it never carried more meaning for them than at the present moment. Tears filled their eyes and everyone else’s as well. The profound unity in diversity among Christians at the council, they hoped, would serve as a model for the future.
Benedict now called on Jon to address the council. He had asked the pope for a brief opportunity to do so if the votes so warranted it. He walked up to the dais. “Thank you, Your Holiness,” he began. “I would respectfully ask all of you, distinguished church leaders, to remind your followers of something extremely important; namely, that this council has not approved ‘a new Bible,’ as it were, and has not replaced the traditional Scriptures. The ‘old family Bible’ is as relevant as ever with its sixty-six books. The sixty-seven-book version simply enhances the text of that great traditional document which has served the church so well for almost two thousand years. My wife and I now commend the enhanced edition and its reception in the church to the providence of God.”
As he left the dais, shouts of “Amen” and even “Hallelujah” ricocheted throughout the vast reaches of the hall. No one present would ever forget that memorable day, which became a milestone in church history.
Jon and Shannon were treated to endless rounds of congratulations by the church’s great, which they vigorously tried to deflect. In fact, they were the last to leave the convention hall. Jon looked into Shannon’s sapphire eyes, still a bit misty, and said, “Thanks, my darling, for-how did you put it?-for finding the two missing pieces in that sacred mosaic called the Holy Bible and setting them safely into place.”