Chapter 7: The Canon Firmed - Fixing the Hebrew Bible and Debating Inclusion

This chapter is part of the book The Sacred Editors: Judaism.

"Three books do not defile the hands: Ben Sira, and all the books written from then on, and the books of the heretics." ---Tosefta Yadayim 2:13

The question hung in the air of the bet midrash like incense: Which scrolls are sacred?

It was the early 2nd century CE, and Rabbi Akiva was teaching his students about the ritual requirement to wash hands after handling holy books. The afternoon sun streamed through the high windows, casting long shadows across the wooden reading stands where scrolls lay carefully unfurled. The principle seemed straightforward---sacred texts "defile the hands," requiring purification afterward, while ordinary literature does not. But which books qualified?

Everyone agreed about the Torah. The leather binding showed the wear of countless readings, and the silver crowns that adorned its wooden handles caught the light as students reverently returned it to the ark. The major prophetic works like Isaiah and Jeremiah were clearly in---their scrolls bore the patina of centuries of liturgical use. Most of the Psalms were accepted, their melodies still echoing from the morning prayers.

But what about Ecclesiastes, with its skeptical tone and troubling questions about divine justice? Or Esther, which never mentions God's name even once in its ten chapters? And what about that popular book by Ben Sira---written in elegant Hebrew, quoted by respected teachers, beloved by communities throughout the Jewish world for its practical wisdom about daily life?

A student raised the obvious question: "Rabbi, why doesn't Ben Sira defile the hands? Surely it contains wisdom and moral teaching worthy of our reverence?"

Akiva paused, choosing his words carefully. The room fell silent except for the distant sounds of children reciting their lessons in the courtyard below. "Because," he replied, "it was written yesterday. The age of prophecy has ended. The Holy Spirit departed from Israel with Haggai, Zechariah, and Malachi. What came after, however beautiful or wise, is human composition."

The student frowned, pressing further. "But Rabbi, how do we know when prophecy ended? And why should the date of composition matter more than the content itself?"

These were precisely the questions that would shape the most consequential editorial decision in Jewish history: the closing of the canon.

A Process, Not an Event

Popular imagination often depicts biblical canonization as a single dramatic moment---perhaps a council of rabbis dramatically voting on which books to include, with scrolls being ceremonially accepted or rejected. The reality was far more complex, gradual, and contested.

By the 1st century CE, the Torah (Pentateuch) was universally accepted as sacred and authoritative among all Jewish groups. No serious debate surrounded these five books; they formed the unshakeable foundation of Jewish religious life. The Nevi'im (Prophets), including both historical books like Joshua and Kings and prophetic literature like Isaiah and Jeremiah, were largely established, though debates persisted about specific issues---Ezekiel's apparent contradictions with Torah law troubled some scholars, while others questioned whether the twelve minor prophets should be treated as one book or twelve separate works.

The Ketuvim (Writings) remained far more fluid and contested. Psalms and Proverbs enjoyed wide acceptance, their liturgical usefulness and attribution to David and Solomon respectively providing strong claims to authority. But serious questions surrounded other texts: Ecclesiastes seemed too pessimistic and questioning for some tastes, Song of Songs appeared too erotic for others, and Esther's complete absence of any mention of God struck many as problematic for a sacred text.

Beyond these disputed books lay an even more complex category: texts that different communities included or excluded from their collections. Ben Sira (Ecclesiasticus), Wisdom of Solomon, Tobit, Judith, 1-2 Maccabees, 1 Enoch, Jubilees, and numerous other works circulated widely among Jewish communities, with varying degrees of acceptance and authority.

Different communities maintained markedly different collections. The Dead Sea Scrolls reveal that even within Palestine, various groups used different versions of biblical books and treasured texts that never achieved broader recognition. The Septuagint preserved in Alexandria included books unknown or disputed in Palestine. Even rabbinic authorities didn't always agree---debates over marginal books continued well into the medieval period, with some texts achieving acceptance in certain communities while remaining excluded in others.

As Emanuel Tov observes, "The idea of a single, standard biblical text with fixed boundaries is largely a later development that obscures the actual diversity of Second Temple and early rabbinic textual culture." The canonization process represented not a single decision but an ongoing negotiation between competing claims to authority that extended across centuries.¹

The Criteria for Inclusion

Despite this complexity and the lack of any formal council making authoritative decisions, certain factors consistently influenced which texts gained recognition as Scripture across different Jewish communities. These criteria emerged organically from community practice rather than being formally articulated, but their influence can be traced through the canonical choices that different groups made:

Prophetic Attribution and Temporal Boundaries The most important criterion was connection to recognized prophets or the prophetic era. Books had to be either written by known prophets or composed during the period when prophecy was understood to be active in Israel. This principle explained why Psalms were attributed to David (considered a prophet in Jewish tradition) and Proverbs to Solomon (whose wisdom was understood as divinely given), even when such attributions might have been historically questionable.

The belief that prophecy had ended became crucial for establishing canonical boundaries. As the Babylonian Talmud would later state: "From the day the Temple was destroyed, prophecy was taken from the prophets and given to fools and children" (Baba Batra 12b). This created a clear temporal boundary: books composed after the prophetic period, however wise or inspiring, could not be considered divinely revealed Scripture. The cutoff was generally understood to be the time of Ezra, Nehemiah, and the last biblical prophets.

Liturgical Usage and Community Function Texts employed in regular worship acquired sacred status through repetition and ceremonial context. Psalms sung in Temple service, readings designated for festivals, and prayers for special occasions gained authority through communal practice. The annual reading cycle that developed for Torah provided a model for other texts to achieve liturgical prominence. Books that were regularly read aloud in synagogue settings or quoted in liturgical contexts had stronger claims to canonical status.

Conversely, books that were not read publicly in synagogue settings were more likely to be marginalized over time. As Michael Satlow notes, "Holiness was not only about content. It was about communal function. Texts became sacred through use as much as through inherent theological merit."²

Hebrew Language and Textual Tradition As Hebrew was increasingly viewed as the sacred language---especially in reaction to Christian use of the Greek Septuagint---texts preserved only in Greek or Aramaic faced significant disadvantage. This linguistic criterion affected books like Wisdom of Solomon (composed in Greek) and created complications for portions of Daniel and Ezra (written in Aramaic), though the latter were included despite their mixed language due to their other strong credentials.

The emphasis on Hebrew also reflected broader concerns about maintaining Jewish distinctiveness in an increasingly Christian world. Hebrew texts were less likely to be appropriated by Christian communities and could more easily be controlled by Jewish scribal authorities.

Theological Harmony and Doctrinal Consistency Books that reinforced emerging Jewish theological consensus had stronger claims to canonicity. Texts that supported monotheism, covenant theology, Torah observance, and divine justice were favored over those that seemed to contradict or complicate these central beliefs. This criterion sometimes worked against otherwise attractive texts---Ecclesiastes survived despite its skeptical tone partly because it could be read as ultimately affirming divine wisdom, while other wisdom texts that seemed more thoroughly pessimistic were excluded.

Community Consensus and Geographic Distribution Perhaps most importantly, books needed broad acceptance across different Jewish communities and geographic regions. Texts popular in only one area or among specific sectarian groups were more likely to be excluded from any universal canon. This criterion favored books that had achieved widespread circulation and acceptance across the diverse Jewish communities of Palestine, Babylon, Egypt, and elsewhere.

The Case of Ben Sira: Wisdom Excluded

The exclusion of Ben Sira (Sirach/Ecclesiasticus) illustrates how these criteria operated in practice and reveals the complex dynamics that shaped canonical decisions. Written around 180 BCE by Jesus ben Sira of Jerusalem, this Hebrew wisdom book combined traditional Jewish piety with Hellenistic philosophical influences, creating what many scholars consider one of the finest examples of Jewish wisdom literature.

Ben Sira had much to recommend it for canonical inclusion. It was composed in Hebrew by a learned Jerusalem sage who demonstrated deep knowledge of earlier biblical literature. Its content emphasized traditional themes of wisdom, divine fear, and Torah observance, making it theologically compatible with emerging Jewish orthodoxy. The book enjoyed widespread popularity among both Palestinian and diaspora Jews, was frequently quoted by early rabbinic authorities, and provided strong support for Temple worship and priestly authority at a time when these institutions faced challenges.

The book's grandson translated it into Greek around 130 BCE, adding a prologue that reveals the emerging structure of Jewish sacred literature: "the Law and the Prophets and the other books of our ancestors." This threefold division suggests that Ben Sira was initially considered part of the developing third section of Scripture, the Ketuvim (Writings).

Yet Ben Sira ultimately failed to achieve canonical status in rabbinic Judaism, though it was preserved in Christian traditions. Several factors contributed to its exclusion, illustrating how the canonical criteria operated in practice:

Transparent Recency and Known Authorship Unlike biblical books that claimed ancient authorship or anonymous composition, Ben Sira was obviously recent, composed within living memory of its early readers. Its author was known by name and historical context, making claims to prophetic inspiration difficult to sustain. The book even included an autobiographical colophon identifying its author and circumstances of composition.

Greek Transmission and Hellenistic Associations Despite its Hebrew composition, Ben Sira circulated primarily in Greek translation and was enthusiastically embraced by Hellenistic Jewish communities in Alexandria and elsewhere. This association became increasingly problematic as Hebrew was reasserted as the sacred language and as Jewish communities sought to distinguish themselves from Hellenistic cultural influences.

Christian Adoption and Apologetic Use Like other deuterocanonical books, Ben Sira was embraced by early Christians and used to support Christian theological arguments. Early Christian writers quoted it as Scripture, and it appeared in Christian biblical manuscripts. This made it suspect to rabbinic authorities who were increasingly concerned with maintaining Jewish distinctiveness and preventing Christian appropriation of Jewish texts.

Post-Prophetic Dating and Human Composition Most importantly, Ben Sira was unambiguously composed after the supposed end of prophecy. However wise its content, it could not claim the divine inspiration that canonical status required according to emerging rabbinic criteria. It represented human wisdom rather than divine revelation, however excellent that wisdom might be.

As James VanderKam observes, "Ben Sira's exclusion reveals that canonical decisions were shaped as much by chronological and communal politics as by intrinsic textual merit. A book's content mattered, but so did its circumstances of composition, transmission, and use."³

The Christian Catalyst

The rise of Christianity significantly accelerated Jewish canon formation, creating external pressure for clearer boundaries around Jewish Scripture. Early Christians freely quoted deuterocanonical books as Scripture in their theological arguments---Hebrews cites Wisdom of Solomon, Jude references 1 Enoch, and various New Testament authors drew on traditions found in books like Tobit and 2 Maccabees. Christian writers like Justin Martyr and Clement of Alexandria treated these books as authoritative Scripture, using them to support Christian doctrines and practices.

This Christian appropriation of Jewish texts created what scholars call a "boundary crisis." Books that Christians used to support their theological claims became suspect to Jewish authorities seeking to maintain distinct religious identity. The need to differentiate Jewish Scripture from the Christian Old Testament pushed rabbinic leaders toward a more restrictive canon that could not be easily appropriated by rival communities.

The development of the Masoretic textual tradition reflected this same dynamic. Beginning in the 6th century CE and continuing for several centuries, the Masoretes systematically preserved Hebrew consonantal text and eventually added vowel pointing to ensure uniform pronunciation and interpretation. This Hebrew-centered approach implicitly excluded Greek texts that Christians had embraced, while also providing Jewish communities with authoritative textual standards that could not be easily modified by outsiders.

The rabbinic principle that sacred books "defile the hands" became a practical tool for boundary maintenance. Books that required ritual hand-washing after handling were definitively sacred and demanded careful preservation; those that didn't were relegated to a lower status, however edifying their content might be. This binary distinction provided clear guidance for scribes, teachers, and community leaders about which texts deserved the special treatment accorded to Scripture.

As Sid Leiman demonstrates, "The Jewish canon was never formally closed through official decree. It was socially and liturgically closed through community practice and rabbinic consensus, often in reaction to external pressures that threatened Jewish religious autonomy."⁴

What Would Have Changed?

Different canonical decisions might have produced dramatically different trajectories for Jewish religious development, affecting not only theology but also practice, identity, and cultural engagement:

Expanded Wisdom Canon Timothy Lim suggests that if Ben Sira, Wisdom of Solomon, and other sapient literature had achieved canonical status, Jewish theology might have developed stronger philosophical dimensions from the start. The integration of Hellenistic thought visible in these works could have fostered greater Jewish engagement with Greek and later Islamic philosophical traditions, potentially making Judaism more intellectually cosmopolitan while maintaining its distinctive identity. The practical ethics found in Ben Sira might also have produced more detailed guidance for business practices, family relationships, and social responsibilities.⁵

Apocalyptic Inclusion John Collins argues that had books like 1 Enoch, Jubilees, or 4 Ezra remained central to Jewish Scripture rather than being marginalized, apocalyptic theology might have played a much larger role in rabbinic development. Detailed angelology, cosmic dualism, and eschatological speculation might have become more prominent in mainstream Judaism, potentially aligning it more closely with early Christian theological development while maintaining distinctive Jewish characteristics. This could have affected Jewish responses to persecution and suffering throughout history.⁶

Historical Memory and Political Resistance David deSilva suggests that the inclusion of 1-2 Maccabees might have significantly strengthened Jewish traditions of political resistance and martyrdom. These books preserve crucial historical information about Jewish resistance to Hellenistic oppression and celebrate the courage of those who died rather than abandon their faith. Canonical status for these texts could have provided scriptural foundation for more active Jewish resistance to later persecutions, from Roman times through medieval and modern periods.⁷

Linguistic Pluralism and Cultural Engagement Had the broader Septuagint canon been universally accepted rather than the more restrictive Hebrew canon, Greek might have retained honored status alongside Hebrew in Jewish religious culture. This could have significantly affected Jewish intellectual development in Hellenistic and later Islamic environments, potentially producing richer philosophical traditions while maintaining Jewish religious distinctiveness.

Scholar Debate

Contemporary scholarship continues debating the timing, mechanisms, and significance of Jewish canon formation, with different perspectives reflecting broader questions about the relationship between religious authority and historical development:

Lee Martin McDonald argues that canonization was "a fluid and gradual process" without definitive moments or formal decisions, emphasizing the role of community usage in determining which books achieved lasting authority. His research demonstrates that different Jewish communities maintained different collections well into the medieval period, suggesting that canonical boundaries were more flexible and contextual than traditionally assumed. McDonald's work emphasizes the practical factors---liturgical use, educational needs, community identity---that shaped canonical choices more than formal theological criteria.⁸

Sid Z. Leiman maintains that rabbinic boundaries were more clearly defined than McDonald and others suggest, pointing to explicit statements in Mishnah and Tosefta about which books "defile the hands" as evidence for early canonical consciousness. Leiman's detailed analysis of rabbinic sources reveals consistent criteria for canonical inclusion and systematic efforts to establish clear boundaries around authoritative texts. His work suggests that while the process was gradual, it was more deliberate and systematic than often recognized.⁹

James Kugel suggests that ancient Jews didn't operate with clear canonical/non-canonical distinctions but rather recognized graduated authority among different texts, with some being more sacred or authoritative than others without rigid inclusion/exclusion categories. His comparative study of how different Jewish communities treated various texts reveals complex hierarchies of authority that don't fit neat canonical boundaries. Kugel's approach emphasizes the diversity of ancient Jewish textual culture and questions whether modern concepts of canon adequately capture ancient realities.¹⁰

Timothy Lim challenges the entire concept of formal canonization, arguing that Jewish communities distinguished between levels of textual authority rather than rigid inclusion/exclusion categories. His analysis of Dead Sea Scrolls evidence and rabbinic sources suggests that ancient Jews were more comfortable with textual diversity and multiple levels of authority than later traditions assumed. Lim's work emphasizes the constructed nature of canonical boundaries and their often political rather than purely religious motivations.¹¹

Emanuel Tov emphasizes the textual plurality visible in Dead Sea Scrolls and other Second Temple sources as evidence that many books competed for sacred status well into the Common Era. His comprehensive analysis of textual variants and manuscript traditions reveals a much more diverse and fluid situation than traditional accounts suggest. Tov's research demonstrates that canonical boundaries emerged gradually from complex negotiations between different textual traditions and community needs.¹²

These scholarly debates reflect deeper questions about the relationship between religious authority and historical development. Most scholars now agree that the process involved complex interactions between theological judgment, community practice, historical circumstances, and boundary maintenance needs, with the "closing" of the canon representing gradual community consensus rather than formal decision-making.

Why It Still Matters

The Hebrew Bible (Tanakh) that emerged from this process---24 books arranged in three divisions (Torah, Nevi'im, Ketuvim)---remains the canonical foundation of Judaism worldwide. Understanding how these boundaries were established illuminates both the contingency of the process and its lasting significance for Jewish religious life.

Modern Jewish communities continue to grapple with questions about textual authority that echo ancient canonical debates. Orthodox Judaism maintains strict boundaries around the traditional canon while developing extensive interpretive literature that functions as practical commentary on daily life. Conservative and Reform movements engage more flexibly with both canonical and non-canonical texts, often drawing on excluded books for insight into ancient Jewish thought and practice. Secular Jewish culture draws selectively from the entire range of Jewish literature without necessarily privileging canonical boundaries, treating Ben Sira and 1 Maccabees as valuable witnesses to Jewish history regardless of their canonical status.

Contemporary scholarship has recovered many texts that were excluded from the rabbinic canon, providing valuable windows into the diversity of ancient Jewish thought and practice. Books like 1 Enoch, Jubilees, and Wisdom of Solomon are now studied not as inferior alternatives to canonical literature but as important witnesses to the richness of Second Temple Judaism. This recovery has enriched understanding of Jewish religious development while also raising questions about whether different canonical choices might have produced different trajectories for Jewish thought and practice.

The canonical process also provides insight into how religious communities balance preservation and innovation across time. The rabbis who established Jewish biblical boundaries were simultaneously conservative (preserving inherited tradition) and selective (choosing which voices from the past would shape the future). Their decisions created a textual foundation stable enough to support centuries of interpretation while remaining open enough to address new circumstances and challenges.

For contemporary readers, canonical formation demonstrates that sacred texts emerge through historical processes involving human judgment, community needs, and cultural circumstances. Understanding these processes doesn't diminish reverence for the texts that survived but deepens appreciation for the communities that preserved and transmitted them across centuries of change and challenge.

The books that became Jewish Scripture did so not merely because they were inspired or ancient, but because communities found them indispensable for the ongoing work of living faithfully. In that sense, the canon itself represents a form of interpretation---a community's judgment about which voices from the past most deserve to shape its future. The debates that raged around books like Ben Sira, Ecclesiastes, and Esther reveal the high stakes involved in these decisions: what was at issue was not just which books to preserve but which vision of Jewish identity would prevail.

The canon that emerged reflects the rabbis' judgment that Judaism would best be served by a collection that balanced legal guidance, historical memory, prophetic challenge, and wisdom reflection while maintaining clear boundaries against alternative claims to religious authority. Those boundaries have held for nearly two millennia, providing Jewish communities with a stable textual foundation for worship, study, and interpretation. But the history of their formation reminds us that even the most sacred collections emerge through very human processes of selection, debate, and decision---processes that honored both divine inspiration and human responsibility for faithful transmission.

Notes

Tov, Emanuel. Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, 3rd ed. Fortress Press, 2012, p. 7.
Satlow, Michael L. How the Bible Became Holy. Yale University Press, 2014, p. 287.
VanderKam, James C. From Revelation to Canon: Studies in the Hebrew Bible and Second Temple Literature. Brill, 2000, p. 239.
Leiman, Sid Z. The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture: The Talmudic and Midrashic Evidence. Archon Books, 1976, p. 131.
Lim, Timothy H. The Formation of the Jewish Canon. Yale University Press, 2013, pp. 167-189.
Collins, John J. The Apocalyptic Imagination: An Introduction to Jewish Apocalyptic Literature, 2nd ed. Eerdmans, 1998, pp. 289-315.
deSilva, David A. Introducing the Apocrypha: Message, Context, and Significance. Baker Academic, 2002, pp. 201-223.
McDonald, Lee Martin. The Formation of the Christian Biblical Canon, rev. ed. Hendrickson, 2017, pp. 247-268.
Leiman, The Canonization of Hebrew Scripture, pp. 120-124.
Kugel, James L. How to Read the Bible: A Guide to Scripture, Then and Now. Free Press, 2007, pp. 48-52.
Lim, The Formation of the Jewish Canon, pp. 45-67.
Tov, Textual Criticism of the Hebrew Bible, pp. 313-350.