“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.”
Epilogue
Although the decisions of the Jerusalem Council were not binding on individual church bodies, 96 percent of world Christianity did adopt them in fact. Holdouts were the extremely conservative sects, rigorist splinter groups, and the Appalachian churches that practiced snake-handling as a centerpiece of their worship. The assurance that not one syllable of the newly discovered material contradicted any part of Scripture fell on deaf ears. As one of their elders put it, “If the King James Bible was good enough for St. Paul, it’s good enough for us.”
Publication of the sixty-seven-book Bible became the greatest statistical phenomenon since Gutenberg invented movable type printing. When Jon and the ICO had first permitted the fresh addenda to be published separately as part of the public domain, publishers privately deemed them “crazy,” in view of the incredibly valuable property they were giving away. Now they called them “crazy like a fox,” since publishing any new Bible with the addenda would have certain strings attached, spelled “royalties.” The newly discovered Greek texts in the codex and any translations thereof were fully protected if they became part of any new edition of the New Testament or the Bible.
Jon explained that the reason for the copyright was far more than royalties. A restriction clause in all publishing contracts gave the ICO the right to approve any translation. A “dirty little secret” in Bible publishing had been the intrusion of denominational interests in slight shadings in translating some verses of Holy Writ.
To be sure, new Bible editions had been flooding the market of late. A whole cavalcade of specialty Bibles were crowding the bookstores, such as women’s Bibles, men’s Bibles, Scriptures for the young, for the aged, and every niche market imaginable. Jon once cracked to Shannon, “Next there will be A Bible for Left-handed Mothers-to-be in the Second Trimester of Their Pregnancy.” But all these were only adaptations of the traditional text. The new sixty-seven-book Bible rewrote the sales records in Bible publishing.
The ICO had authorized the Boston law firm of Allen, Stover, Gemrich, Haenicke, and Hume to handle the crush of publishers lining up at their doors. Known for their expertise in international rights and permissions, they monitored worldwide sales of the new edition so well that a record 93 percent of global sales were legitimate. There were exceptions, of course. Customs officials in Long Beach, California, had to seize a whole boatload of the new Bibles because they were pirated editions printed in China with a fake Zondervan imprint.
Although Jon and Shannon disliked the name “The New Bible” because it could suggest that the traditional version was now supplanted, this was the name bestowed on it by the vast public. And because global sales of the New Bible quickly reached truly biblical proportions, the phrase “an embarrassment of riches” had fresh meaning for Jon and the ICO. Their royalties were not large; they were simply prodigious.