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There are times when Christianity is posed with a severe challenge, the type of intellectual or moral trial that can change the church's entire way of thinking about itself and the faith. The recently released Gospel of Judas, fortunately, poses no problem of the sort. Despite somewhat exaggerated media claims that the Gospel was "the most important nonbiblical text discovered in the past 60 years," it instead seems to be nothing more than a copy of a second- or third-century Gnostic tract already long ago condemned by church fathers. After the publication of a few well-placed takedown pieces, the momentum behind this supposed threat to Christian orthodoxy has almost completely run out.

One can thank The DaVinci Code for the ease at which this particular "crisis" was resolved. Because of the popular yet historically inaccurate book, Christians have already been forced to revisit issues of orthodoxy, church history, and the biblical canon. With the existing discussions of why the Gnostic gospels were rejected, both as valid theological influences and as a legitimate part of the New Testament, it becomes increasingly easy for those like Darrell Bock (one of the primary critics of the new Gospel of Judas) to make the case for the truth of Christian teaching.

As Bock and others explain, orthodox Christianity predates Gnostic interpretations—thus discrediting the idea that Gnosticism rather than orthodoxy is the true and original teaching of Jesus. Not only that, but the Council of Nicea in 325 affirmed the received tradition and accepted canon of Scripture up to that point. Claims that the Gnostics were deliberately suppressed by a power-hungry Emperor Constantine, or simply outmaneuvered by sexist, bigoted bishops (as The DaVinci Code posits), don't survive historical scrutiny.

Critics of the orthodox Christian canon would have a better chance at discrediting the New Testament if they started with Marcion, himself a proto-Gnostic. One of the earliest heretics actually mentioned by name, Marcion was convinced that the God of the Hebrews and the God of Christianity are completely different. His drive to exclude the God of the Hebrews from his teaching led him to reject not merely the Old Testament, but most of the writings of the apostles then in circulation. His personal canon included only 12 books, with a modified Luke being the only Gospel to make the cut.

In this case, however, earlier did not mean better. Pre-established theology dictated Marcion's choices—not the actual teaching of the apostles. But his heretical canon forced orthodox teachers to develop a real one.

The church fathers of the time (some of them personal students of the apostles) were aware of the very diverse and rich collection of writings teaching about Jesus and his ministry, death, and resurrection. Unlike Marcion, they included books that contained different, even seemingly contradictory emphases on Jesus and the gospel, so long as apostles actually wrote the works. They resisted the temptation to include writings, even perfectly orthodox texts like the Didache, which were not of "truly apostolic origin."

Athanasius expounded the final list of accepted New Testament books in 367. Even later figures who had minor quibbles with the list recognized the value of a closed canon as a barrier against heresy and unnecessary division in the church.

Ironically, perhaps the most interesting debate on the issue of canon exists completely within Christianity, and under the media radar. Although the canon of the New Testament is fixed and accepted by all Christian parties, believers still dispute the proper boundaries of the Old Testament.

Protestants stand against Catholic and Orthodox Christians in rejecting the Apocrypha (or Deutero-Canonical works, as Catholics prefer to call them). Protestants cite historical figures such as Jerome as authorities. Jerome knew that the apocryphal writings had no parallels in the Hebrew Old Testament and only appeared in the Greek Septuagint translation of Hebrew Scriptures. Protestants, especially of the evangelical variety, view with skepticism some doctrines endorsed only in the Apocrypha, such as purgatory.

Yet evangelicals are also slowly beginning to revisit the books that Luther and other reformers did not endorse as Scripture but did not condemn as heretical. (The recent Renovaré Study Bible follows the lead of many Reformation-era Bibles and includes the Apocrypha as an appendix.) The increasing interest of evangelicals in church history—which, to further the irony, is caused in part by works like The DaVinci Code—introduces many believers to early church leaders like Polycarp who cited the Apocrypha.

None of this implies evangelicals will want to enlarge their Bibles anytime soon. Protestant acceptance of the Apocrypha (or the Catholic rejection of it, for that matter) would be only a small step toward Christian unity. The main division between Protestants and Catholics remains not about the content of Scripture but its proper interpretation. But one has to wonder at the press judgment that devotes story after story to "new" Gospels, known and rejected by the church for centuries, while overlooking divisions in the canon that actually exist. Perhaps Judith should fire her agent.

Will Reaves works for the Livingstone Corporation and as a freelancer for Christianity Today International and Tyndale House Publishers.