.H35i 
 &51 
 
THE  LIFE  OF   JESUS  CHRIST. 
 
 \ 
 
 t 
 
^r.i 
 
 THE 
 
 MAR  151973 
 
 LIFE  OF  JESUS  CHRIST 
 
 HISTORICAL   CONNEXION   AND   HISTORICAL 
 DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 AUGUSTUS   NEANDER. 
 
 TRANSLATED    FROM    THE 
 
 ;SFouxt\)  (Qtvmmi  Ctttion, 
 
 JOHN  I'CLINTOCK  AND  CHARLES  E.  BLUMENTHAL, 
 
 PROFESSORS   IN  DICKINSON  COLLEUE. 
 
 LONDON: 
 HENRY  G.  BOHN,  YORK  STREET,  COVENT  GARDEN. 
 
 1851. 
 
PRINTKll  UY 
 
 COX  'brothers)  ami  wyman,  orbat  queen  STRKKT, 
 
 I.tNCOLN'S-I\N  PIKI.n<;. 
 
TO  MY  CHRISTIAN  BRETHREN 
 
 IN 
 
 THE   UNITED   STATES   OF  AMERICA. 
 
 The  present  age  may  1)6  considered  an  epoch  of  transition  in  the  deve- 
 lopment of  thi;  kin<4ilom  of  God;  and,  as  such,  it  is  full  of  signs.  Among 
 thfc,nu).st  striking  of  them,  is  a  greater  zeal  for  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  and 
 the  Bible  through  all  nations,  combining  many  and  various  agencies  for 
 that  work  ;  as  well  as  a  closer  union  among  all  earnest  Christians,  seekers 
 of  salvation  and  truth,  of  all  lands,  however  widely  separated — a  new  Ca- 
 tholic Church,  which,  amid  all  the  diversity  of  outward  ecclesiastical 
 forms,  is  preparing  that  unity  of  the  spirit  which  has  Christ  for  its  founda- 
 tion. Especially  is  it  matter  of  rejoicing  to  see  a  growing  spirit  of  fraternal 
 union  between  the  Christians  of  the  Old  World  and  those  of  the  New — a 
 land  in  which  Christianity  (the  destined  leaven  for  all  the  elements  of 
 humanity,  how  various  soever)  develops  its  activities  under  secular  rela- 
 tions so  entirely  novel. 
 
 It  was,  therefore,  very  gratifying  to  me  to  learn  that  Professors  M'ClJN- 
 TOCK  and  El.rilENTHAL  had  determined  to  put  this  volume,  the  fruit  of  my 
 earnest  inquiries,  before  the  transatlantic  Christian  public  in  an  English 
 dress.  To  see  a  wider  sphei'e  of  influence  opened  for  views  which  we  our- 
 selves (amid  manifold  struggles,  yet  guided,  we  trust,  by  the  Di'V'ine  Spirit) 
 have  recognized  as  true,  and  which,  in  our  opinion,  are  fitted  to  make  a 
 way  right  on  through  the  warring  contradictions  of  error,  cannot  be  other- 
 wise than  grateful  to  us.  For  truth  is  designed  for  all  men :  he  who 
 serves  the  truth,  works  and  strives  for  all  men.  The  Lord  has  given  to 
 each  his  own  clmrlsma,  and  with  it  each  must  work  for  all.  What  is  true 
 and  good,  then,  is  no  man's  own  ;  it  comes  from  the  Father  of  Lights,  the 
 Giver  of  every  good  gift,  who  lends  it  to  us  to  be  used  for  all.  And  what 
 in  true,  must  prove  itself  such  by  bearing  the  test  of  the  general  Christian 
 conscio\isness. 
 
 But  the  j)len.sure  w  ith  which  I  write  these  words  is  not  unmingled  with 
 anxietj'.  To  write  a  history  of  the  greatest  Life  that  has  been  manifested 
 upon  earth — that  Life  in  which  the  Divine  glory  irradiated  earthly  exist- 
 ence— is  indeed  the  greatest  of  human  tasks.  Yet  the  attempt  is  not 
 presumptuous  (as  I  have  said  in  the  preface  to  the  German  edition),  if  it 
 he  made  upon  the  Gospel  basis:  every  age  witnesses  new  attempts  of  the 
 kind.  It  is  part  of  the  means  by  which  we  are  to  appropriate  to  ourselves 
 this  highest  life ;  to  become  more  and  more  intimate  with  it ;  to  bring  it 
 nearer  and  nearer  to  our.selves.  Every  peculiar  age  will  feel  itself  com- 
 pelled anew  to  take  this  Divine  Life  to  itself  through  its  own  study  of  it, 
 by  means  of  science,  animated  by  the  Holy  Spirit;  to  gain  a  closer  living 
 intimacy  with  it,  by  copying  it.  To  eat  His  flesh  and  drink  His  blood  (in 
 tlie  spiritual  sense)  is  indeed  the  way  to  this  intimacy  ;  but  science  also  has 
 ite  part  to  do,  and  this  work  is  its  highest  dignity.     But  yet,  in  view  of 
 
\ail  AUTHORS  ADDRESS. 
 
 the  grandeur  and  importance  of  this  greatest  of  tasks,  in  view  of  the  diffi- 
 culties that  environ  it,  and  our  own  incapacity  to  execute  it  adequately, 
 we  cannot  see  our  work  diffused  into  wider  and  more  distant  circles,  with- 
 out fear  and  trembling.  We  are  fully  conscious  of  the  dimness  that  sur- 
 rounds us,  growing  out  of  the  errors  and  defects  of  an  age  just  freeing 
 itself  from  a  distracting  infidelity.  May  we  soon  receive  a  new  outpouring 
 of  the  Holy  Ghost,  again  Vjestowing  tongues  of  fire,  so  that  the  Lord's 
 great  works  may  be  more  worthily  praised  ! 
 
 I  have  another,  and  a  peculiar  source  of  anxiety.  This  book  has  arisen 
 (and  it  bears  the  marks  of  its  origin)  amid  the  intellectual  struggles  which 
 yet  agitate  Germany,  and  constitute  a  preparatory  crisis  for  the  future. 
 Those  who  are  unacquainted  with  those  struggles  may,  perhaps,  take 
 offence  at  finding  not  only  many  things  in  the  book  hard  to  understand, 
 l»ut  also  views  at  variance  with  old  opinions  in  other  countries  yet  undis 
 lurbed.  The  English  churches  (even  those  of  the  United  States,  whe.-e 
 everything  moves  more  freely)  have  perhaps,  on  the  whole,  been  but 
 .'ilightly  disturbed  by  conflicting  opinions  of  precisely  the  kind  that  find 
 place  among  us.  Had  they  to  deal  with  the  life-questions  with  which  we 
 have  to  do,  they  would  be  otherwise  engaged  than  in  vehement  contro- 
 versies about  church  order  and  other  unessential  points.  It  would  be 
 easier,  then,  for  them  to  forget  their  minor  differences,  and  rally  under  the 
 one  banner  of  the  Cross  against  the  common  foe.  Perhaps  a  nearer 
 acquaintance  with  the  religious  condition  of  other  lands  may  contribute  to 
 this  end. 
 
 I  am,  notwithstanding,  still  afraid  that  some  readers,  unacquainted  with 
 the  progress  of  the  German  mind,  which  has  developed  new  intellectual 
 necessities  even  for  those  who  seek  the  truth  believingly,  may  take  offence 
 at  some  of  the  sentiments  of  this  book.  Especially  v/ill  this  be  likely  to 
 happen  with  those  who  have  not  been  accustomed  to  distinguish  what  is 
 Di-vine  from  what  is  human  in  the  Gosjiel  record ;  to  discriminate  its 
 immiitable  essence  from  the  changefid  forms  in  which  men  have  appre- 
 hended it ;  in  a  word,  with  those  who  exchange  the  Divine  rcalifi/  for  the 
 frail  support  of  traditional  beliefs  and  ancient  harmonies.  I  would  lead 
 no  man  into  a  trial  which  he  could  not  endure ;  I  would  willingly  give 
 offence  to  none,  unless,  indeed,  it  were  to  be  a  transitory  offence,  tending 
 afterward  to  enlarge  his  Christian  knowledge  and  confirm  his  faith.  How 
 far  this  may  be  the  case,  I  am  not  suflSciently  acquainted  with  the  trans- 
 atlantic Church  to  be  a  competent  judge.  Nor  would  I,  on  my  own  sole 
 responsibility,  have  introduced  this  work  (which  arose,  as  I  have  said, 
 among  the  struggles  of  our  own  country)  to  a  foreign  public :  this  I  leave 
 to  the  esteemed  translators,  hoping  that  their  judgment  of  the  condition  of 
 tilings  there  may  be  well  founded. 
 
 But  of  this  I  am  certain,  that  the  fall  of  the  old  form  of  the  doctrine  of 
 In.spiration,  and,  indeed,  of  many  other  doctrinal  prejudices,  will  not  only 
 not  involve  the  fiill  of  the  essence  of  the  Gospel,  but  will  cause  it  no  detri- 
 ment whatever.  Nay,  I  l>elieve  that  it  will  be  more  clearly  and  accurately 
 understood  ;  that  men  will  be  better  prepared  to  fight  with  and  to  conquer 
 that  inrushing  infidelity  against  which  the  weapons  of  the  old  dogmatism 
 must  be  powerless  in  «?;;/  land;  and  that  from  such  a  struggle  a  new 
 theology,  purified  and  renovated  in  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  must  arise. 
 E/erjrwhere  we  see  the  signs  of  a  new  creation  ;  the  Lord  will  build  him- 
 self, in  science  as  well  as  in  life,  a  new  tabernacle  in  which  to  dwell ;  and 
 neither  a  stubborn  adherence  to  antiquity,   nor  a  profane  appetite  for 
 
TRANSLATORS  PREFACE.  U? 
 
 novelty,  can  hinder  this  work  of  the  Lord  which  is  now  preparing.  May 
 we  never  forget  the  words  of  the  great  apostle,  "  Wfiere  tlie  Spirit  of  the 
 Lord  is,  there  w  Liberty. "  Whatever  in  this  book  rests  upon  that  one 
 foundation  than  which  none  other  can  be  laid,  will  bear  all  the  fires  of  the 
 time ;  let  the  wood,  hay,  and  stubble  which  fijid  place  in  all  works  of  men, 
 be  burned  up. 
 
 Perhaps  the  impulse*  which  the  American  mind  has  received  from  the 
 profound  Coleridge,  who  (like  Schleiehmacher  among  ourselves)  has 
 testified  that  Christianity  is  not  so  much  a  definite  system  of  conceptions 
 as  a  power  of  life,  may  have  contriliuted,  and  may  still  further  contribute, 
 to  prepare  the  way  for  a  new  tendency  of  scientific  theology  in  your  beloved 
 country. 
 
 A.  Neandeb. 
 
 Berlin,  November  4,  1847. 
 
 TRANSLATORS'  PREFACE. 
 
 The  work,  of  which  an  English  version  is  presented  in  this  volume, 
 appeared  originally  in  1837.  It  has  already  passed  through  four  editions, 
 from  the  last  of  which  +  this  translation  has  1  een  made. 
 
 It  is  well  known  that  Dr.  Neander  has  been  engaged  for  many  years 
 in  WTiting  a  "General  History  of  the  Christian  Religion  and  Church," 
 and  that  he  has  pul^lished  separately  an  account  of  the  "  Planting  and 
 Training  of  the  Early  Christian  Church  by  the  Apostles."  He  would 
 doubtless  have  felt  himself  constrained,  at  some  period,  to  give  a  history 
 of  the  life  and  ministry  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  the  Church  ;  and,  indeed, 
 he  states  as  much  in  the  preface  to  this  work  (page  xiv.).  The  execution 
 of  this  part  of  his  task,  however,  would,  pei'haps  have  been  defended  until 
 the  completion  of  his  General  History,  had  not  the  "  signs  of  the  times  " 
 urged  him  to  undertake  it  at  once.  Its  immediate  occasion  was  the  pub- 
 lication, in  1835,  of  Strauss's  "Life  of  Christ,"  J  a  work  which,  as  every 
 one  knows,  created  a  great  sensation,  not  merely  in  the  tlieological  circles 
 of  Germany,  but  also  throughout  Europe.  A  brief  sketch  of  the  state 
 and  progi-ess  of  parties  in  Germany  may  be  useftil  to  readers  not  familiar 
 with  the  literature  of  that  country  ;  and  we  here  attempt  it,  only  regretting 
 our  incapacity  to  give  it  fully  and  accurately. 
 
 Notwithstanding  the  dread  with  which  Gennan  theology  is  regarded  by 
 many  English  and  some  American  divines,  it  was  not  in  German  soil  that 
 the  first  seeds  of  infidelity  in  modern  times  took  root.  It  was  by  the 
 deistical  writers  of  England,  in  the  early  part  of  the  last  century,  that  the 
 authenticity  of  tlie  sacred  records  was  first  openly  assailed.     The  attacks 
 
 *  Not,  it  is  to  he  hoped,  a  one-sided,  partisan  tendency,  as  is  justly  remarked  by 
 Professor  Porteh,  whose  article  on  "  Coleridge  and  his  Americnn  Disciples,"  in  the 
 Bibliothcca  Sacra,  for  February,  181",  I  have  read  with  preat  interest. 
 
 t  Das  I.eben  Jesu  Christi,  in  seinem  geschichtlichen  Zusammenhangre  und  seiner 
 geschichtlichen  Entwickelung'  dargestellt  von  Dr.  ArousT  Neander,  vierte  und 
 verbessorte  Auttage,  Hamburg,  bei  Freidrich  Perthes,  l84o. 
 
 t  Das  Lebcn  Jesu,  Kritisch  bearbeitet  von  Dr.  David  Frledrich  Strauss.  2  Bde. 
 Tubingen,  1835,  4te  Aufl.  1840. 
 
X  TBANSLATORS  PREFACE. 
 
 of  Toland,  Chubb,  Morgan,  &c.,  were  directed  mainly  against  the  credi- 
 bilitj"^  and  sincerity  of  the  sacred  writers ;  and  their  blows  were  aimed, 
 avowedly,  against  the  whole  fabric  of  Christianity.  It  is  needless  to  say 
 that  they  failed,  not  merely  in  accomplishing  their  object,  but  in  makiny 
 any  very  strong  or  permanent  impression  on  the  English  mind.  Nor  has 
 an  infidelity  of  exactly  the  same  type  ever  obtained  firm  footing  in  Ger- 
 many. The  English  Deism,  first  proumlgated  in  the  Wolfenbiittel  frag- 
 ments, set  the  German  theologians  at  work  upon  the  canon  of  Hcripture, 
 and  upon  Biblical  literature  in  general,  with  a  zeal  and  industry  unknown 
 before  ;  and  many  of  them  pushed  tlieir  inquiries  with  a  freedom  amounting 
 to  recklessness  ;  but  a  direct  and  absolute  denial  of  the  autliority  of  the 
 word  of  God  is  a  thing  almost  unknown  among  them.  Still,  professed 
 theologians,  of  great  talents  and  learning,  and  holding  high  official  positions, 
 adojjted  a  theory  (the  so-called  MafioHali.im)  more  dangerous  than  avowc! 
 infidelity,  and  succeeded,  for  a  time,  in  diffusing  its  poison  to  a  pain^jil 
 extent. 
 
 The  declared  aim  of  the  Rationalists  was  to  interpret  the  Bible  on 
 rcdiniuil  principles ;  that  is  to  say,  to  find  nothing  in  it  beyond  the  scope 
 of  Imman  reason.  Not  supposing  its  writers  to  be  impostors,  nor  denying 
 tlie  record  to  be  a  legitimate  source,  in  a  certain  sense,  of  religious  instruc- 
 tion, they  sought  to  free  it  of  everji;hing  supernatural ;  deeming  it  to  be, 
 not  a  direct  Divine  revelation,  but  a  product  of  the  lunnan  mind,  aided, 
 indeed,  by  Divine  Providence,  but  in  no  extraordinary  or  miraculous  way. 
 The  rniracka,  therefore,  had  to  be  explained  away;  and  this  was  done  in 
 any  mode  that  the  ingenuity  or  ph'domph  ji  of  the  expositor  might  suggest. 
 Sometimes,  for  instance,  they  were  no  miracles  at  all,  but  simple,  natural 
 facts ;  and  all  the  old  interpreters  liad  misunderstood  the  writers.  Some- 
 times, again,  the  writers  of  the  sacred  history  misunderstood  the  facts, 
 deeming  them  to  be  miraculous  when  thej'  were  not ;  e.  .7.  when  Christ 
 "healed  the  sick,"  he  merely  prescribed  for  them,  as  a  kind  physician, 
 with  skill  and  success;  when  he  "  raised  the  dead,"  he  only  restored  men 
 from  a  swoon  or  trance  ;  when  lie  "subdued  the  storm,"  there  was  simply 
 a  happy  "coinciilence,"  making  a  strong  impression  upon  the  minds  of 
 the  disciples;  when  he  fod  the  "five  thousand,"  he  only  set  an  example  of 
 kindness  and  benevolence  which  the  rich  by-standers  eagerly  followed  by 
 opening  their  stores  to  feed  the  hungry  nmltitude,  &c.  &c.  But  even  this 
 elastic  exegesis,  wlien  stretched  to  its  utmost  capacity,  would  not  explain 
 every  case :  some  parts  of  the  narratives  were  stubbornly  unyielding,  and 
 new  methods  were  demanded.  For  men  who  had  gone  so  far,  it  was  ea.'^y 
 to  go  farther ;  the  text  itself  was  not  spared ;  this  passage  was  doubtful, 
 that  was  corrupt,  a  third  was  spurious.  In  short,  "criticism,"  as  this 
 desperate  kind  of  interpretation  was  called,  was  at  last  able  to  make  any- 
 thing, and  in  a  fair  way  to  make  nothiwi,  out  of  the  sacred  records.  But 
 still  the  rationalist  agreed  with  the  orthodox  supernaturalist  in  admitting 
 that  there  w^as,  at  bottom,  a  basis  of  sulistantial  truth  in  the  records;  and 
 asserted  tliat  his  eff"(irts  only  tended  to  free  the  substantive  verity  from  the 
 enveloijments  of  fable  or  jierversion  with  which  tradition  had  invested  it. 
 The  admission  was  a  fatal  one.  The  absurdities  to  which  the  theory  led 
 could  not  long  remain  undetected.  It  was  soon  sliown,  and  shown  effec- 
 tually, that  tliis  vaunted  criticism  was  no  criticism  at  all ;  that  the  objec- 
 tions wliich  it  offered  to  the  Gospel  history  were  as  old  as  Porphyry,  or, 
 at  IccOst,  as  the  English  Deists,  and  had  been  refuted  again  and  again ; 
 that  the  errors  of  interpretation  into  which  the  older  expositors  had  fallen 
 
TRANSLATORS  PREFACE.  XI 
 
 might  be  avoided  without  touching  the  truth  and  inspiration  of  the  Evan- 
 gelists ;  and,  in  a  word,  that  there  could  be  no  medium  between  open  infi- 
 delity and  the  admission  of  a  supernatural  revelation.  During  the  first 
 quarter  of  the  present  century  the  conflict  was  waged  with  ardour  on  both 
 sides,  but  witli  increasing  energy  on  the  side  of  truth  ;  and  every  year 
 w^eakened  the  forces  of  rationalism.  Still,  the  theological  mind  of  Ger- 
 many was  to  a  considerable  extent  unsettled :  its  Tholucks  and  Hengsten- 
 bergs  stood  strong  for  orthodoxy ;  its  Twesten  and  Nitszch  applied  the 
 clearest  logic  to  systematic  theology  ;  its  Marheineche  and  Daub  philoso- 
 phized religiously  ;  its  Bretschneider  and  Hase  upheld  reason  as  the  judge 
 of  revelation ;  while  not  a  few  maintained  the  old  rationalism,  though 
 with  less  and  less  of  conviction,  or  at  least  of  boldness. 
 
 It  was  at  this  point,  that  Strauss  conceived  the  audacious  idea  of  apply- 
 ing the  mythical  theory  to  the  whole  structure  of  the  Evangelical  history. 
 AL.  Germany  has  been  more  or  less  infected  with  the  mytho-mania,  since 
 the  new  school  of  arclueologists  have  gone  so  deeply  into  the  heathen, 
 mythologj'.  A  mi/ffiis  omnus  ju'lscorum  hominum  cum  historia  tuni  j^liilom- 
 phla procedit,  saysHeyne:  and  Bauer  asks,  logically  enough,  "if  the  early 
 history  of  every  people  is  mythical,  why  not  the  Hebrew?"*  The  mere 
 application  of  this  theory  to  the  sacred  records  was  by  no  means  original 
 witli  Strauss :  he  himself  points  out  a  number  of  instances  in  which 
 Eichliorn,  Gabler,  Vater,  &c.,  had  made  use  of  it.  His  claim  is  to  have 
 given  a  completeness  to  the  theory,  or  rather  to  its  application,  which, 
 former  interpreters  had  not  dreamed  of ;  and,  to  tell  the  truth,  he  has 
 made  no  halting  work  of  it.  That  Jesus  lived ;  that  he  taught  in  Judea; 
 that  he  gathered  disciples,  and  so  impressed  them  with  his  life  and  teaching 
 as  that  they  believed  him  to  be  the  Messiah ;  this  is  nearly  the  sum  of 
 historical  truth  contained  in  the  Evangelists,  according  to  Strauss.  Yet 
 he  ascribes  no  fraudulent  ihd<jns  to  the  WTiters ;  his  problem  is,  therefore, 
 to  account  for  the  form  in  which  the  narratives  ajjjjear ;  and  this  is  the 
 place  for  his  theory  to  work.  A  Messiah  was  expected ;  certain  notions 
 were  attached  to  the  Messianic  character  and  oflSce  ;  and  with  these  Christ 
 was  invested  by  his  followers.  "Such  and  such  a  thing  nmst  happen  to 
 Messiah  ;  Jesus  was  the  Messiah  ;  therefore,  such  and  such  a  thing  must 
 have  happened  to  him."  "Tlie  expectation  of  a  Messiah  had  flourished 
 in  Israel  long  before  the  time  of  Ciirist ;  and  at  the  time  of  his  appearance 
 it  had  ripened  into  full  bloom ;  not  an  indefinite  longing,  either,  but  an 
 expectation  defined  liy  many  prominent  characteristics.  Moses  had  pro- 
 mised (Deut.  xviii.  15)  'a  prophet  like  unto  himself,'  a  passage  applied,  in 
 Christ's  time,  to  Messiah  (Acts  iii.  22  ;  vii.  37).  The  Messiah  was  to 
 spring  of  David's  line,  and  ascend  his  throne  as  a  second  David  (Matt, 
 xxii.  42;  Luke  i.  32);  and  therefore  he  was  looked  for,  in  Christ's  time, 
 to  be  born  in  the  little  town  of  Bethleliem  (John  vii.  42  ;  Matt.  ii.  5).  In 
 the  old  legends,  the  most  wonderful  acts  and  destinies  had  been  attributed 
 to  the  prophets :  could  le.ss  be  expected  of  the  Messiah  ?  Must  not  his 
 life  be  illustrated  by  the  most  splendid  and  significant  incidents  fi-om  the 
 lives  of  the  prophets?  Finally,  the  Messianic  era,  as  a  whole,  was  ex- 
 pected to  be  a  period  of  signs  and  wonders.  Tlie  eyes  of  the  blind  were 
 to  be  opened ;  the  deaf  ears  to  be  unstopped ;  the  lame  were  to  leap,  &c. 
 (Isa.  x.xxv.  &c.).  These  expressions,  part  of  which,  at  least,  were  purely 
 figurative,  came  to  be  literally  understood  (Matt.  xi.  5  ;  Luke  vii.  21,  seq.) ; 
 and  thus,  even  before  Christ's  appearance,  the  image  of  Messiah  was  con- 
 
 *  Strauss,  i.  S  S. 
 
XU  TRANSLATORS  PREFACE. 
 
 timially  filling  out  with  new  features.  And  thus  many  of  the  legends 
 respecting  Jesus  had  not  to  be  newly  invented ;  they  existed,  ready-made, 
 in  the  Messianic  hopes  of  the  people,  derived  chiefly  from  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment, and  only  needed  to  be  transferred  to  Christ  and  adapted  to  his 
 character  and  teachiAgs."* 
 
 These  extracts  contain  the  substance  of  Strauss's  theory ;  his  book  is 
 little  more  than  an  application  of  it  to  the  individual  parts  of  the  history 
 of  Christ  as  given  in  the  Evangelists.  A  few  instances  of  his  procedure 
 will  suffice.  He  finds  the  key  to  the  miraculous  conception  in  Matt.  i.  22 : 
 "All  this  was  done  that  it  might  be  fulfilled  which  was  spoken  of  the 
 Lord  by  the  prophet,  saying, "  f  &c.  "  The  birth  of  Jesus,  it  was  said,  must 
 coiTespond  to  this  passage ;  and  what  was  to  be,  they  concluded,  really 
 did  occur,  and  so  arose  the  myth."  Tlie  account  of  the  star  of  tlie  Magians, 
 and  of  their  visit  from  the  East,  arose  from  a  similar  application  of  Num- 
 bers xxiv.  17  ;  Psa.  Lxxii.  10  ;  Isa.  Ix.  1-6,  J  &c.  The  temptation  of  Cbnst 
 was  suggested  by  the  trials  of  Job ;  its  separate  features  helped  out,  by 
 Exod.  xxxiv.  28 ;  Lev.  xvi.  8,  10 ;  Deut.  ix.  9,  §  &c.  The  Transfiguration 
 finds  a  starting-point  in  Exod.  xxxiv,  29-35.  ||  So  we  might  go  through 
 the  book. 
 
 The  appearance  of  the  work,  as  we  have  said,  produced  a  wonderful 
 .sensation  in  Germany ;  greater,  by  far,  than  its  merits  would  seem  to  have 
 Authorized.  It  was  the  heaviest  blow  that  unbelief  had  ever  struck  against 
 Christianity ;  and  the  question  was,  what  should  be  done  ?  The  Prussian 
 government  was  disposed  to  utter  its  ban  against  the  book ;  and  many 
 evangelical  theologians  deemed  this  the  proper  course  to  pursue  in  regard 
 to  it.  But  Dr.  Neander  deprecated  such  a  procedure  as  calc\dated  to 
 give  the  work  a  spurious  celebrity,  and  as  wearing,  at  least,  the  aspect  of 
 a  confession  that  it  was  unanswerable.  He  advised  that  it  should  be  met, 
 not  by  authority,  but  by  argument,  believing  that  the  truth  had  nothing 
 to  fear  in  such  a  conflict.  His  counsel  prevailed ;  and  the  event  has  shown 
 that  he  was  right.  Rej)lie3  to  Strauss  poured  forth  in  a  torrent ;  the  Gos- 
 pel histories  were  subjected  to  a  closer  criticism  than  ever ;  and  to-day 
 the  public  mind  of  Germany  is  nearer  to  an  orthodox  and  evangelical  view 
 of  their  contents  than  it  has  been  for  almost  a  century. 
 
 Besides  the  general  impulse  given  1)y  Strauss  to  the  study  of  the  Four 
 Gospels,  he  has  done  theology  another  good  service.  His  book  has  given 
 a  deadly  blow  to  rationalism  properly  so  called.  Its  paltry  criticism  and 
 beggarly  inteq^retations  of  Scripture  are  nowhere  more  effectually  dis- 
 sected than  in  his  investigations  of  the  different  parts  of  the  historj'  and 
 of  the  expositions  that  have  been  given  of  it.  In  a  word,  he  has  driven 
 rationalism  out  of  the  field  to  make  way  for  his  myths ;  and  Neander, 
 Ebrard,  and  others  have  exploded  the  myths ;  so  that  nothing  remains  but 
 a  return  to  the  simjjle,  truthfid  interpretations  which,  in  the  main,  are 
 given  by  the  evangelical  commentators. 
 
 But,  it  may  be  asked,  why  troulde  ourselves  with  controversies  of  this 
 kind  here  ?  We  cannot  help  it.  Strauss's  book,  at  first,  coidd  not  find  a 
 respectable  publisher  in  England;  and  a  garbled  translation,  containing 
 its  very  worst  features,  was  put  out  in  a  cheap  form  for  the  million.  Tlio 
 same,  or  a  similar  aV)ridgment,  has  been  circulated  to  a  consiilerable  extent 
 in  this  country.  And  within  the  last  year  a  translation  of  the  whole 
 work,  from  the  last  German  edition,  has  been  pul)lished  in  London  in 
 three  handsome  volumes.     That  the  soil  of  many  minds  is  ready  to  receive 
 
 *  StrausF,  i.  §  14.        t  Ibid.  i.  5  29.        X  Ibid.  §  e6.        h  Ibid.  §  56.        II  Ibid,  h  lOr. 
 
TRANSLATOK  S  PREFACE.  XIU 
 
 its  pestilent  doctrines,  both  in  that  country  and  in  our  own,  is  too  sadly 
 true  to  he  denied,  The  Westminster  Review  for  April,  1847,  contains  an 
 article  on  Strauss  and  Parlctr  which  talks  about  tlie  Evangelists  in  the 
 coolest  strain  of  infidelity  imaginable,  and  refers,  with  obvious  compla- 
 cency, to  the  signs  of  "  unbelief  or  illumination"  (it  cares  not  which)  that 
 are  at  present  so  abundant  in  England. 
 
 To  a  certain  extent,  as  we  have  remarked,  Neander's  Life  of  Christ  has 
 a  polemic  aim  against  Strauss.  But  this  is  a  small  part  of  its  merits ; 
 indeed,  but  for  the  notes,  an  ordinary  reader  would  not  detect  any  such 
 specific  tendency.  It  unfolds  the  life  of  the  Saviour  from  the  record  with 
 great  clearness  and  skill :  it  invests  the  outline,  thus  obtained,  with  the 
 fresh  colours  of  life,  without  resorting  to  forced  constructions  and  vain 
 imaginings ;  and,  above  all,  it  seeks,  with  child-Uke  humility  and  reve- 
 rence, to  learn  and  exhibit  the  mind  of  tlie  Spirit.  The  characteristic  of 
 sjnrituality,  so  strongly  stamped  upon  all  the  works  of  this  great  writer, 
 is  (.specially  prominent  here.  Xone,  we  think,  can  read  the  book  without 
 becoming  not  merely  better  acquainted  with  the  facts  of  the  life  of  Christ, 
 but  more  anxious  than  ever  to  drink  into  its  spint. 
 
 At  the  same  time,  it  is  not  to  be  concealed  that  Neander  differs  in  his 
 views  on  some  points  of  doctrine,  as  well  as  of  interpretation,  from  most 
 Evangelical  theologians.  We  wish  to  state  distinctly  that  we  do  not  hold 
 ourselves  responsible  for  these  jieculiarities  of  opinion.  It  was  at  one 
 time  our  purpose  to  append  notes  to  such  passages  as  we  deemed  most 
 objectionable  ;  but  after  mature  delilieratiou  this  intention  was  laid  aside;- 
 It  is  liardly  fair  to  criticise  a  man  in  his  own  pages,  even  if  one  is  aljle  to 
 do  it.  The  general  spirit  and  tendency  of  the  work  cannot,  we  are  sure, 
 be  otherwise  than  beneficial,  or  we  should  never  have  attempted  to  trans- 
 late it.     Its  specific  errors  can  be  met  and  refuted  elseAvhere. 
 
 The  noble  candour  of  Neander  in  the  letter  which  precedes  this  preface 
 must  disarm  all  severity.  Let  us  remember,  in  our  judgment  of  what 
 may  appear  to  us  even  grave  errors  of  opinion  in  the  book,  that  its  author 
 has  fought  for  every  step  of  ground  that  has  been  gained  of  late  years  by 
 spiritual  religion  in  Germany ;  antl,  while  we  lament  the  "  dimness  "  which 
 this  great  man  confesses  with  such  Christian-like  humility,  let  us  acknow- 
 ledge the  grandeur  of  his  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  the  earnestness 
 of  his  devotion  to  it.  His  starting-point,  and  many  of  his  paths,  are 
 different  from  ours  ;  it  must,  therefore,  gladden  our  hearts,  and  may,  per- 
 haps, confirm  our  faith,  to  see  that  he  reaches,  after  all,  the  general  results 
 of  Evangelical  theology. 
 
 One  word  for  the  translation.  We  have  tried  to  do  our  best ;  but  we 
 feel  that  we  have  not  done  very  well.  It  is  hard  to  translate  German ; 
 and  of  all  German  that  we  have  tried  to  put  into  intelligible  English, 
 Neander's  is  the  hardest.  We  have  not  attempted  a  literal  version  (for 
 we  want  the  book  to  be  read) ;  nor,  on  the  other  hand,  have  we  willingly 
 gone  into  mere  paraphrase.  We  have  sought  to  seize  the  sense  of  the 
 author,  and  to  express  it  in  our  own  tongue  ;  but  none  can  be  better 
 assured  than  ourselves  that  we  have  very  often  failed.  Readers  of  the 
 original  work  will  see  that  we  have  taken  some  liberties  with  it  which 
 demand  explanation.  Tlie  di\'ision  of  the  text  into  books,  chapters,  and 
 sections  will,  we  hope,  make  the  work  more  intelligible  and  acceptable  to 
 Englisli  readers.  In  many  of  the  author's  paraphrases  of  Scripture  pas- 
 sages, we  have  substituted  the  words  of  the  Enghsh  version,  where  it  could 
 be  done  without  affecting  the  sense ;  and  many  passages,  also,  to  which 
 
XIT  PBEFACE. 
 
 he  had  merely  alluded,  are  queried  at  length.  A  few  sentences  have  been 
 transferred  from  the  text  to  the  notes ;  and  a  few  passages  of  the  notes,  of 
 purely  polemical  interest,  which  would  have  needed  explanation  to  put 
 them  fairly  before  the  American  public,  have  been  omitted.  In  all  that 
 "we  have  done,  we  have  endeavoured  to  comply  witli  the  spirit  of  Dr. 
 Neander's  wishes,  as  kindly  communicated  to  us  by  himself. 
 January  5,  1848. 
 
 PREFACE  TO  THE  FIRST  EDITION. 
 
 In  the  Preface  to  my  Representation  of  the  Christian  Religion  and 
 Church  in  the  Apostolic  Age,  I  assigned  my  reasons  for  the  separate  pub- 
 lication of  that  work,  and  stated  its  relations  to  my  General  History  of 
 the  Church.  It  remained  for  me  to  treat  of  that  which  formed  the  ground 
 of  the  manifestation  and  existence  of  the  Apostolical  Church  itself,  viz. 
 the  Life  and  Ministry  of  the  Divine  Founder  of  the  Church ;  and  I  have, 
 moreover,  been  urged  from  many  quarters  to  execute  this  necessary  por- 
 tion of  my  work.  I  was  made  to  pause  in  the  fonner  undertaking  by  the 
 lofty  sacredness  of  the  subject  and  its  many  difficulties ;  how  much  more, 
 then,  in  the  latter!  But  the  signs  of  the  times  (to  which,  as  a  historian 
 of  the  Church,  I  could  not  but  take  heed),  the  uncertainty  of  human 
 affairs,  and  the  opportunity  afforded  by  a  pause  in  my  General  History, 
 have  overcome  my  scruples,  and  led  me,  trusting  in  GoD,  to  go  on  with 
 this  work. 
 
 Yet  well  may  he  hesitate  who  undertakes  to  ^vTite  the  life  of  CHRIST  ! 
 "^Vho,  indeed  (as  Herdeu  finely  answered  Lavater),  could  venture,  after 
 John,  to  write  the  life  of  Christ?"*  Who  will  not  agree  with  Anna 
 Maria  von  Schdrmann,  that  such  an  attempt  is  "to  paint  the  sxm  with 
 charcoal :  the  life  of  a  Christian  is  the  best  picture  of  the  life  of  Christ  ?"  + 
 
 Yet  why  should  not  history  (though  assured  that  its  description  must 
 be  far  behind  the  reality)  occupy  itself  with  the  highest  manifestation  that 
 has  appeared  in  humanity — a  manifestation  which  sanctifies,  but  does  not 
 spurn,  the  labours  of  men?  The  artist,  inspired  by  devotion,  paints  a  pio 
 ture  of  Christ  without  any  aid  from  history,  merely  from  intuition  of  the 
 idea  of  Christ.  But  we  have  the  lineaments  of  the  historical  Christ,  in 
 fragments  at  least ;  and  there  is  wanting  only  insight  into  their  connexion 
 to  fi-ame  them  into  a  harmonious  whole.  We  feel  the  necessity  of  calling 
 up  vividly  before  our  minds,  in  our  own  stage  of  life  .and  scientific  pro- 
 gress, this  realized  Ideal,  which  belongs  to  all  ages ;  and  at  particular 
 epochs  in  the  mutations  of  time  this  necessity  is  always  felt  anew.     The 
 
 *  "/ WTitc  the  life  of  Christ — //  Never.  The  Evangelists  have -written  it  as  it  can 
 and  oupht  to  lie  written.  Let  jm,  however,  not  write  it,  but  become  it !  "  (Ueitragc 
 y.ur  naheren  Kenntiiiss  Lavater's,  von  Ulrich  Hegcner:  Leips.  1836.)  May  the  pood 
 Zuriclicrs,  who  liave  lately  shown  themselves  so  worthy  of  their  sires  in  their  resist- 
 ance to  revolutionary  violence  and  their  enthusiasm  for  the  faith  (dngvin  Chris/iarium 
 dopma  pnpiilnre,  Aupustin.  opus  iniperf.  c.  Julian,  ii.  a),  erect  a  Christian  national 
 inemorinl  by  an  edition,  as  complete  as  possible,  of  Lavater's  correspoudence. 
 
 t  Cf.  Reinhard,  Plan  Jcsu,  1  ;  Heubner's  Anin. 
 
PREFACE.  XV 
 
 image  of  Christ,  not  of  yesterday  nor  to-day,  ever  renews  its  youth  among 
 men,  and,  as  the  world  grows  old,  penetrates  it  with  a  heaven-tending, 
 youthful  vigour.  What  Photius  says  of  the  various  ideas  of  Christ  among 
 different  nations  may  Ije  applied  to  different  periods  of  time,  viz.  "that 
 each,  by  a  new  representation,  must  make  itself  familiar  with  the  image 
 of  Christ."  Obviously,  however,  the  peculiarities  of  different  periods  must 
 be  distinguished.  Some  periods  mark  a  new  creation  in  the  Christian 
 Church  and  in  humanity,  as  already  appeared;  others,  by  dissolution  and 
 cnsii*,  p)rpare  the  way  for  it.  Our  age  belongs  to  the  latter  class:  we 
 stand  between  the  old  world  and  a  new  one  to  be  called  into  being  by  the 
 ever  old  and  ever  new  Gospel.  For  the  fourth  time,  Christianity  is  pre- 
 paring a  new  epoch  in  the  life  of  humanity.  Our  labours  can  only  be 
 preparatory  to  that  new  creation,  when,  after  the  regeneration  of  life  and 
 science,  the  great  acts  of  God  shall  be  proclaimed  with  new  tongues  of 
 fire!* 
 
 But  it  may  be  questioned,  also,  whether  it  is  possible,  from  the  autho- 
 rities in  our  hands,  to  exhibit  a  connected  description  of  the  life  of  Christ? 
 Christian  consciousne.ss  will  be  satisfied  with  nothing  less  than  an  intuition 
 of  Christ's  life  as  a  whole ;  and,  therefore,  science  must  undertake  to  free 
 it  from  all  alloy,  and  to  found  it  on  a  substantial  basis.  It  is  by  means  of 
 the  Christian  consciousness  that  we  feel  ourselves  allied  to  all  Christianity, 
 since  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost — Christian  consciousness,  the 
 living  source  from  which  everything  in  life  and  science,  which  has  really 
 enriched  the  Church,  has  proceeded  and  must  proceed ;  a  far  different 
 thing  from  the  changeful  culture  of  the  day,  which,  without  it,  must  ever 
 be  ephemeral  and  transitory.  To  serve  this  last,  is  the  most  wretched  ot 
 servitudes.  It  is,  indeed,  time  for  a  new  beginning  of  Biblical  criticism, 
 of  New  Testament  exegesis,  of  inquiries  into  the  formation  of  the  canon. 
 There  are  great  difficulties,  indeed,  especially  in  the  chronology,  t  in  the 
 work  which  we  have  to  do.  But  this,  instead  of  deterring,  must  only 
 stimulate  us  to  greater  efforts.  We  must  only  guard  against  relinquishing 
 our  hopes  too  hastily,  and  keep  aloof  from  all  prejudices  either  of  anti- 
 quity or  novelty ;  and  then  this  undertaking  may  be  one  of  the  prepara- 
 tions, however  trifling,  for  a  new  epoch  in  this  part  of  history. 
 
 As  for  those  who  deny  that  our  field  is  properly  historical,  and  place  it 
 in  a  pre-historical  and  mythical  region,  I  need  say  nothing  here,  as  I  have 
 sought  to  refute  them  in  the  course  of  the  work  itself. 
 
 In  regard  to  my  relations  to  the  various  theological  parties  of  the  age, 
 I  must  refer  to  the  Preface  to  the  first  volume  of  my  ' '  Apostolic  Age ; " 
 and  to  my  letter  to  Dewar,  chaplain  to  the  British  Embassy  in  Hamburg. 
 Whatever  appears  to  me  to  be  true,  or  most  probable,  after  candid  and 
 earnest  inquiry,  with  all  reverence  for  the  sacredness  of  the  subject,  I 
 utter,  without  looking  at  consequences.  WTioever  has  a  good  work  to  do 
 must,  as  Luther  says,  let  the  devil's  tongue  run  as  it  pleases.  Tliere  are 
 two  opposite  parties  whom  I  cannot  hope  to  please,  viz.  those  who  will 
 forcibly  make  all  things  iiew,  and  fancy,  in  their  folly,  that  they  can  shake 
 the  rock  which  ages  could  not  undermine ;  and  those  who  would  retain, 
 
 *  Most  keenly  does  the  author  feel  (as  did  his  late  friend,  B.  Jacob!,  who  has  left 
 behind  him  a  blessed  and  honoured  memory)  that  his  work  bears  the  marks  of  its 
 production  in  an  age  of  crisis,  of  isolation,  of  pain,  and  of  throes. 
 
 t  Wlicrevcr  I  have  not  sure  grounds  for  decision,  1  .say  "perhaps:"  nor  ami 
 ashamed  of  it,  unfashionable  as  "perhaps"  is,  now  a-days,  in  matters  of  science. 
 Would  that  our  younp  votaries  of  science  would  lay  to  licart  the  excellent  words  of 
 NiKBL'HR,  on  the  degrees  of  confidence,  in  the  "  Lebensnachrichten,"  ii.  208. 
 
Xvi  PREFACE. 
 
 and  forcibly  reintrodnee,  even  at  the  expense  of  all  genuine  love  of  truth, 
 everything  that  is  old;  nay,  even  the  wom-out  and  the  obsolete.  I  shall 
 not  please  those  hypercritics  who  subject  the  sacred  writings  to  an  arbi- 
 trary subtilty,  at  once  superrational  and  sophistical ;  nor  those,  on  the 
 other  hand,  who  believe  that  here  all  criticism — or  at  least  all  criticism 
 on  internal  groimds — cometh  of  evil.  Both  these  tendencies  are  alike  at 
 variance  with  a  healthful  sense  for  truth  and  conscientious  devotion  to  it ; 
 both  are  alike  inimical  to  genuine  culture.  There  is  need  of  criticism 
 where  anything  is  communicated  to  us  in  the  form  of  an  historical  tradition 
 in  written  records ;  and  I  am  sure  that  an  impartial  criticism,  applied  to 
 the  Scriptures,  is  not  only  consistent  with  that  child-like  faith,  without 
 which  there  can  be  no  Cliristianity  or  Christian  theology,*  but  is  necessary 
 to  a  just  acutenesst  and  profoundness  of  thought,  as  well  as  to  that  true 
 consecration  of  mind  which  is  so  essential  to  theology.  The  child-like 
 faith  of  the  theologian  who  cannot  violently  rid  himself  of  the  critical 
 element  of  his  times  or  of  human  nature,  is  thus  proved,  as  it  were,  in  the 
 fire  of  temptation  ;  this  is  the  tcntatio  (particularly  in  this  age  of  scientific 
 struggle)  which  must  go  along  with  oratio  and  meditatio,  in  the  depths  of 
 the  earnest  and  humble  spirit.  Without  this  priestly  consecration,  there 
 can  be  no  theology.  It  thrives  best  in  the  calmness  of  a  soul  consecrated 
 to  God.  ^Vhat  gi-ows  amid  the  noisy  bustle  of  the  world  and  the  empty 
 babble  of  the  age  is  not  theology. 
 
 God  reveals  himself  in  his  uwd  as  he  does  in  his  works.  In  both  we 
 see  a  seU-revealinff,  seli-concealinff  God,  who  makes  himself  known  only  to 
 those  who  earnestly  seek  him  ;t  in  both  we  find  stimulants  to  faith  and 
 occasions  for  unbelief ;  in  both  we  find  contradictions,  whose  higher  har- 
 mony is  hidden,  except  from  him  who  gives  up  his  whole  mind  in  reverence  ; 
 in  both  in  a  word,  it  is  the  law  of  revelation  that  the  heart  of  man  should 
 be  tested  in  receiving  it ;  and  that,  in  the  spiritual  life  as  well  as  in  the 
 bodily,  man  must  cat  his  bread  in  the  sweat  of  his  brow. 
 Berlin,  July  18,  1837. 
 
 PREFACE  TO  THE  THIRD  EDITION. 
 
 The  rec#.ption  of  this  work  among  the  opposing  theological  parties  of 
 the  age  has  been  such  as  I  anticipated  in  the  Preface  to  the  first  edition. 
 It  is,  therefore,  the  less  necessary  for  me  to  vindicate  myself  against  special 
 accusations  on  any  side.  I  am  satisfied  that  the  principles  of  my  theolo- 
 gical procedure  are  in  the  main  correct,  and  that  their  claims  will  finally 
 
 *  But  the  theologian  must  have  more  than  a  merely  critical  mind  and  critical  aims  : 
 he  needs  a  spiritual  mind,  a  deep  acquaintance  wth  divine  things ;  and  he  must 
 study  the  Scriptures  with  his  lirnrt  as  well  as  head,  uidess  he  wishes  his  theology  to 
 be  robbed  of  its  salt  by  his  criticism. 
 
 t  Not  too  sharp,  so  as  to  be  notched. 
 
 X  This  is  the  pervading  thought  of  Pascal  (the  sage  for  all  centuries)  in  his  Pens6es, 
 though  blended  with  many  errors  of  Catholicism  and  absolute  Predestination.  Great 
 thanks  are  due  to  Faugcrt  for  the  edition  of  tliis  work  (1844)  in  its  original  form. 
 
PREFACE.  X"VU 
 
 be  justified.  To  answer  the  revilings  or  false  inferences  of  fanatical  preju- 
 dice on  either  hand,  or  to  enter  into  purely  personal  controversj',  forms  no 
 part  of  my  purpose.  Yet,  in  order  to  leave  no  room  for  doubt  as  to  my 
 own  theological  stand-point,  it  appears  necessaiy  tliat  I  should  notice  a 
 few  of  the  opinions  that  have  been  passed  upon  the  work. 
 
 A  review  from  the  pen  of  Consistorial  Counsellor  ScHULZ  has  appeared 
 in  the  Alh/emeine  DarnisUidtische  Klrchenzeitung,  which  opposes  me  merely 
 by  dictatorial  decisions ;  and,  by  isolating  various  passages  *  of  my  work 
 from  their  connexion,  ascribes  to  me  opinions  which  are  foreign  to  my 
 whole  theological  system.  What  I  say  will  not  be  disputed  by  any  one 
 who  candidly  examines  tliat  review  and  compares  it  with  my  work.  I 
 have  called  the  attention  of  my  readers  in  this  edition  to  these  perversions 
 of  my  words,  perversions  in  which  SCHCLZ  shakes  hands  with  men  of  a 
 school  directly  opposite  to  his  own.  Were  I  not  satisfied  of  his  integrity, 
 I  should  be  under  the  necessity  of  calling  them  diahonest  perversions  ;  as 
 the  case  is,  I  see  in  them  only  the  prejudice  of  that  enihimasm  of  reason  so 
 admirably  characterized  by  Jacobi  in  his  remarks  upon  "Keason  which  is 
 not  Reason"  (ii.  492).  Of  those  who  are  enslaved  by  this  enthusiasm,  he 
 says,  "Tlieir  belief  is  always  reason,  nor  can  they  recognize  another's 
 reason  except  in  his  belief.  They  inquire  not  liow  he  feels,  perceives,  ob- 
 8er\'es,  or  infers,  but  only  what  his  opinions  are — whetlier  they  agree  with 
 their  canon  or  not ;  and  that  decides  the  matter."  This  stand-point  as 
 surely  generates  a  prejudice  which  precludes  all  just  judgment  of  the 
 opinions  of  others,  and  leads  (though  unconsciously)  to  falsehood,  as  does 
 the  enthxisiasm  for  an  absohite  system  of  doctrmes  which  lays  down,  as  a 
 standard,  a  definite  number  of  articles  of  faith,  or  principles  therewith 
 connected,  and  makes  this  standard  a  criterion  of  every  one's  claim  to 
 Christianity.  In  the  judgments  fonned  of  my  work,  as  well  as  in  many 
 other  matters  of  our  time,  these  two  sets  of  prejudices  have  led  to  similar 
 results. 
 
 "What,"  inquires  ScHCLZ  several  tirties,  "will  the  believers  in  creeds 
 say  to  this?"  Now,  as  to  the  opinion  of  this  or  that  set  of  men,  I  am  in- 
 different ;  it  concerns  me  only  to  know  how  far  my  statements  accord  with 
 truth,  especially  Christian  truth.  It  is  proper  that  I  should  say,  however, 
 that  I  go  along  with  those  who  oppose  "creed-believers"  (to  use  ScHULZ's 
 term)  so  far  as  this,  viz.  that  I  could  not  subscribe  to  any  of  the  existing 
 symbols  (except  the  Apostles'  creed,  which  testifies  to  those  fundamental 
 facts  of  Christianity  that  are  essential  to  the  existence  of  the  Christian 
 Church)  as  an  unconditional  expression  of  my  religious  convictions. 
 
 I  believe  that  our  path  lies,  through  the  strifes  and  storms  of  the  pre- 
 sent time,  to  a  new  creation  in  the  Church,  when  the  same  Holy  Spirit+ 
 that  works  in  the  life  of  the  Church,  and  produces  all  truly  CliriBtian 
 creeds  as  expressions  (defective,  indeed,  as  all  human  representations  of 
 the  Divine  must  be,  and  stamped  with  the  varj-ing  culture  of  the  time) 
 
 *  The  reviewer  ha.s  been  able  to  point  out  but  one  oversight — certainly  no  proof  of 
 careless  haste  in  a  work  on  such  a  subject.  The  mistake  was  one  which  might  have 
 happened  to  any  one  in  an  unlucky  moment,  whicli  could  not  fail  to  be  noticed  by 
 any  one,  and  which,  in  fact,  was  noticed  by  myself  as  soon  as  I  glanced  again  at  the 
 passage. 
 
 t  The  Holy  Spirit  going  out  from  faith  in  Christ,  who  was  crucified  for  the  sins  cf 
 men,  who  truly  rose  from  the  dead  and  ascended  to  heaven  ;  the  Holy  Spirit,  which 
 has  proved  itself  the  same  since  the  first  Christian  Pentecost,  at  all  times,  among  all 
 people,  learned  or  unlearned ;  not  the  changeful  spirit  of  the  times,  which  corresponds 
 more  nearly  to  what  is  called  in  the  New  Testament  the  spirit  of  the  world,  and 
 whose  manifestations  stand  opposed  to  those  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
 
 b 
 
XVlll  PREFACE. 
 
 of  Christian  truth,  will  produce  a  symbol  adapted  to  the  new  stage  of  the 
 Church's  development,  if  it  become  necessary  that  such  an  expression  of 
 the  animating  faith  of  the  Church  be  given  in  a  new  literal  form.  But  T 
 go  along  with  the  theologians  (so  called  creed-believers)  in  what  I  believe 
 to  be  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  Reformation  and  of  the  Evangelical 
 Church  ;  the  doctrines,  viz.  of  the  corruption  of  human  nature  (not,  how- 
 ever, excluding,  but  presupposing,  an  element  of  affinity  for  God  [Gott- 
 verwandte]  in  human  nature)  ;  and  of  justification  by  faith  in  Jesus  as  the 
 Redeemer.  The  essential  part  of  the  Evangelical  Confession  (the  Augs- 
 burg Confession  and  its  Apologj'),  so  far  as  it  is  an  exposition  of  this 
 doctrine,  together  with  the  unchangeable  verities  to  which  the  Apostles' 
 Creed  bears  witness,  seem  to  me  the  iirefragable  basis  of  the  Evangelical 
 Church  ;  which,  on  this  basis,  protests  against  all  popery,  whether  the 
 Roman  or  any  other  impure  spirit  of  the  age  :  against  human  statutes,  no 
 matter  of  what  kind.  Dr.  8cHULZ  reproaches  me  for  .speaking  of  the  sin- 
 fulness of  human  nature.  On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  but  be  astonished 
 that  this  truth,  so  clearly  revealed  in  the  Scriptures,  nay,  lying  at  their 
 basis,  and  so  plainly  written  upon  every  human  heart,  should  be  denied 
 by  any  man.  He  wishes,  moreover,  that  the  terms  "natural  reason"  and 
 "self-righteousness"  may  hereafter  not  appear  in  my  writings.  In  this 
 respect  I  cannot  possibly  gratify  him.  These  terms  have  a  well-established 
 right  in  the  Evangelical  Church  ;  the  conceptions  which  they  express  are 
 closely  connected  with  its  fundamental  principle  ;  they  are,  moreover, 
 finnly  founded  in  Biblical  Anthropologj-.*  Tliey  are  not  the  offshoot  of  a 
 "  new  Evangelical "  Theology,  Imt  of  an  old  Evangelical  faith.  It  is  a 
 mere  pretended  "enlightenment"  (which,  notwithstanding  it  may,  by  de- 
 stroying, prepare  the  way  for  better  things,  is  yet  in  its  positive  elements 
 a  source  of  darkness)  that  can  object  to  those  conceptions. 
 
 I  have  to  thank  Dr.  Hase  for  the  kindness  with  which  he  has  spoken 
 of  my  work  in  the  Jahrbiichei-fiir  ui&inuKhaftllche  Kriti^-;  but  it  would 
 take  more  space  than  a  preface  will  allow  to  come  to  an  underst.anding 
 with  him  upon  the  points  in  Apologetics  and  Dogmatics  on  which  he 
 touches  in  his  review.  I  can  only  remark,  that  a  description  of  the  life 
 of  Christ  (although  it  munt  proceed  from  the  Christian  consciousness, 
 which  alone  can  afford  a  living  intuition  of  it)  does  not  necessarily  demand 
 for  its  foundation  a  complete  and  well-defined  theory  of  the  2^crson  of 
 Christ.  On  the  contrary,  it  would  be  one  of  the  excellences  of  such  a 
 work,  that  various  doctrinal  tendencies  (if  supranaturalistic)  coidd  l>e 
 satisfied  with  it.  It  must  deal  with  fartx,  which  are  more  weighty  than 
 men's  conceptions,  changeful  as  they  are.  All  dogmatical  theories  except 
 those  which  are  willing  to  do  violence  to  history  must  agree  in  acknow- 
 ledging certain  facts.  ^V^lat  I  have  said  of  the  human  development  of 
 the  life  of  Christ  harmonizes  well  with  the  consequent  doctrine  of  a  status 
 
 *  It  is  a  trick  of  Jesuitism  (whicli  is  by  no  means  confined  to  one  form,  but  often 
 a.ssuraes  the  shape  of  the  fanaticism  of  reason  or  understandhi?)  to  protest  (in/orw) 
 agrainst  the  tendencies  of  the  journal  called  the  Kfangrlisrite  kirchrnzeitiinp,  while, 
 in  fact,  the  protest  is  not  meant  to  bear  apainst  those  tendencies — nnt  afrainst  anti- 
 fiuated  doi^mas, — but  aj^ainst  the  unchangeable  fundamental  truths  of  the  Church  of 
 Christ ;  truths  which  can  appear  to  be  auticjuated  dotrmas  only  to  the  shallow  and 
 superficial  spirit  of  tlu-  times,  a  spirit  as  contracted  as  it  is  conceited.  At  the  same 
 time,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  the  onesidedness,  the  exapcrerations  and  multiform 
 sickliness  of  the  tendencies  referred  to  may  have  contributed  to  produce  a  reaction. 
 We  say  this  sine  ira  ft  studio,  with  a  full  sense  of  the  sincere  and  earnest  zeal,  and 
 the  true  Christian  endeavours  and  results  of  those  tendencies  which  find  an  organ  in 
 tlic  Kirchenzeitung. 
 
PREFACE.  XIX 
 
 eccinanilionU ;  without  this,  in  fact,  the  human  life  of  Christ  can  have  no 
 reality.  As  to  my  views  of  the  Ascension,  I  must  adhere  to  them,  until 
 I  can  be  convinced  that  without  them  the  full  import  of  Christ's  re^ur- 
 ovction  can  be  asserted.  Nor  is  it  simply  .strength  of  faith  that  leads  me 
 to  these  results ;  from  the  beginning  my  religious  life  has  been  too  much 
 affected  by  the  culture  of  this  age  to  allow  me  to  glory  in  such  a  faith — 
 to  compare  myself  with  those  men  of  child-like  simplicity,  those  heroe.s 
 whose  Divine  confidence  is  exalted  above  all  douVjt.*  I  have  adopted 
 them  from  consecutive  reasoning  upon  the  principles  of  the  Christian 
 feith.  There  is  no  middle  ground  here  ;  unless,  indeed,  in  order  to  avoid 
 admitting  a  limit  to  all  explanation,  ^vithout,  at  the  same  time,  affirming 
 the  opposite,  we  cover  up  the  difficulty  in  phrases  and  formulas. 
 
 To  all  those  who  consider  the  Socratic  vjnorance  as  folly,  and  who  have 
 settled  beforehand  the  highest  questions — questions  whose  right  answers 
 the  great  Mel.\ncthon  placed  among  the  beatitudes  of  the  intuition  of 
 a  better  life — my  dogmatical  system  must  appear  weak  and  unsatisfactory. 
 
 In  the  reviewer  of  my  work  in  the  Halle  Litcrafurzcitunfi  (Church- 
 counsellor  ScHWARZ  of  Jena),  I  am  happy  to  recognize  a  worthy  man, 
 who  can  acknowledge  with  congenial  spirit,  even  amid  differences  of 
 opinion,  the  work  of  an  earnest  mind  and  of  serious  study — a  phenomenon 
 every  day  becoming  rarer  in  this  age  of  selfish  and  excited  party  spirit. 
 I  am  gratified,  though  not  surprised,  to  find,  from  the  beautiful  notice  of 
 my  book  by  Dr.  Lucre,  that  that  old  and  worthy  fi-iend  agrees  with  me 
 in  all  essential  points. 
 
 To  find  ourselves  as  one  in  the  recognition  of  certain  tniths  with  men 
 whom  we  must  admire  and  honour  on  many  accounts,  even  though  our 
 convictions,  on  important  subjects,  may  be  opposed  to  each  other,  cannot 
 be  otherwise  than  gratifying.  I  have  no  sympathy  with  that  narrowness 
 of  mind  which  refuses  to  do  justice  to  the  advocate,  however  able,  of 
 opinions  which  we  ourselves  must  reject.  That  is  an  unworthy  arrogance 
 which,  in  its  zealous  defence  of  a  holy  cause  (a  cause  which,  above  all 
 others,  breathes  humility,  and  teaches  us  more  and  more  that  all  our 
 knowledge  is  but  fragmentary),  deems  itself  authorized  to  look  down 
 haughtily  upon  its  opponent,  however  superior  in  scientific  ability ;  or 
 even  seeks  to  cover  the  weakness  of  its  own  arguments  by  what  is 
 intended,  according  to  the  sickly  taste  of  the  age,  to  pass  for  wit  and 
 humour. 
 
 I  cannot,  therefore,  but  rejoice  to  find  that  my  treatment  of  the  subject, 
 with  that  of  others  engaged  in  the  same  controversy,  has  induced  Dr. 
 SXBArss  to  soften  down  his  mythical  theory  of  the  life  of  Christ  in  various 
 points,  and  to  acknowledge  the  truth  of  several  results  arrived  at  by  my 
 historical  inquiries.  In  his  public  acknowledgment  of  this  I  recognize  a 
 candour  and  love  of  truth  which  is  far  more  honourable  than  mere 
 intellectual  greatness.  At  the  same  time,  I  am  grateful  to  him  for  the 
 kindness  with  which  he  has  spoken  of  me  personally.  A  certain  degree 
 of  harmony,  then,  may  be  attained  by  the  application  of  tho.se  fimda- 
 mental  principles  of  historical  criticism  which  all  sound  thinkers  must 
 acknowle<lge  to  be  correct.  Yet  it  is  onlii  a  certain  degree ;  it  is  easy  to 
 be  understood  how  the  harmony  thus  reached  is  interrupted  by  the  wider 
 differences  which  lie  at  the  foundation  of  the  subject. 
 
 *  Truth  before  all  thin^.  I  would  not  senm  to  be  what  I  am  not.  This  book, 
 which  coulil  oiily  have  arisen  in  this  age  of  strife  and  discord,  is  itself  a  mirror  of  the 
 progress  of  my  mind. 
 
 62 
 
XX  PREFACE. 
 
 The  chief  points  of  controversy  turn  upon  essential  differences  of 
 religious  thought  and  feeling.  These  fundamental  differences  are  clearly- 
 set  forth  by  Dr.  Strauss  in  the  closing  dissertation  of  his  third  edition, 
 and  in  his  essay  on  the  Permanent  and  the  Transitory  {das  Bleibende  wnd 
 Vergdwjliclie)  in  Christianity.  They  are  to  be  found  chiefly  in  opposing 
 views  of  the  relation  of  God  to  the  world,  of  the  personality  of  spirit,  of 
 the  relation  between  the  here  and  the  hereafter,  and  of  the  nature  of  sin . 
 The  controversy,  to  our  mind,  does  not  lie  between  an  old  and  a  new 
 view  of  Christianity,  but  between  Christianity  and  a  human  invention 
 directly  opposed  to  it.  It  is  nothing  less  than  a  struggle  between  Christian 
 Theism  and  a  system  of  world  and  self-deification.  This  system  (by  a 
 relative  historical  necessity)  had  to  unfold  itself  in  theological  and  philo- 
 sophical rationalism,  in  order  to  be  overthrown  by  the  power  of  Christian 
 truth  in  the  natural  progress  of  life  and  thought.  Symptoms  of  it  can  be 
 detected  in  the  sects  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  in  many  of  the  manifesta- 
 tions that  preceded  the  Reformation ;  and  it  would  have  broken  forth 
 at  an  earlier  period,  had  not  the  Evangelical  enthusiasm  of  the 
 Keformat/on  suppressed  it  for  a  time.  We  may  apply  here  the  words  of 
 Melancthon,  uttered,  with  his  deep  historical  insight,  in  a  connexion 
 akin  to  this :  Dogniatum  semina,  quae  longe  graviora  tunndtus  cdiquando 
 excitalura  fuerant,  nisi  Lutherus  exortiis  esset  ac  studici  hcrminum  alio  tretx- 
 isset  {Corpus  Eeformator.  tom.  i.  f.  1083).  Far  be  it  from  me  to  judge  the 
 heart  of  any  man  ;  in  tliis  regard  each  must  be  his  own  accuser.  A  man 
 that  knows  he  serves  a  truth  above  the  range  of  the  hiunan  mind  knows, 
 at  the  same  time,  how  far  below  it  he  himself  stands,  and  how  high,  on 
 the  other  hand,  others,  whose  individual  culture  modified  by  the  spirit  of 
 the  age  may  have  laid  them  open  to  error,  may  in  heart  be  raised  above 
 their  error.  Whoever  has  entered  into  the  struggles  of  his  age  will  be 
 willing,  at  the  same  time  that  he  judges  himself,  to  be  mild  in  his 
 judgments  of  others,  who  although  they  may  have  been  further  carried 
 away  by  those  same  struggles,  have  preserved  a  seemly  and  becoming 
 moderation.  It  is  iXiQ  j)rinciple  alone  that  is  in  question,  and  that  cannot 
 be  judged  too  strictly. 
 
 I  conclude  with  the  golden  words  of  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  modem 
 times  in  testimony  of  the  truth,  and  in  opposition,  not  only  to  the  vain 
 attempt  to  amalgamate  Christianity  with  the  principle  of  modem  niis- 
 culture,  but  also  to  the  spirit  which  seeks  to  reduce  all  minds  to  one 
 mode  of  doctrinal  conception — to  the  stand-point  which  strives  to  niake 
 the  piece-work  of  human  knowledge  absolute.  "  The  man  who  does  not 
 liold  Christ's  earthly  life,  with  all  its  miracles,  to  be  as  projierly  and 
 really  historical  as  any  event  in  the  sphere  of  history,  and  who  does  not 
 receive  all  points  of  the  Apostolic  Creed  with  the  fullest  conviction,  I  do 
 not  conceive  to  be  a  Protestant  Christian.  And  as  for  that  Christianity 
 which  is  such  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  modem  philosophers  and 
 Pantheists,  without  a  personal  GoD,  without  iumiortality,  without  an 
 individuality  of  man,  without  historical  faith — it  may  be  a  very  in- 
 genious and  subtle  jthilosojihij,  but  it  is  no  Christianity  at  all.  Again 
 •ind  again  have  I  said  that  I  know  not  what  to  do  with  a  metaphysical 
 God  ;  and  that  I  will  have  no  other  but  the  GoD  of  the  Bible,  who  is 
 It^art  to  heart.  Wlioever  can  reconcile  the  metaphysical  God  with  the 
 God  of  the  Bible,  may  try  it,  and  write  symbolical  books  to  suit  all 
 ages ;  but  he  who  admits  the  absolute  inexplicability  of  the  main  point, 
 which  can  only  be  approached  by  asj-mptotes,  will  never  grieve  at  the 
 
PKEFACE. 
 
 impossibility  of  possessing  any  system  of  religion."*     May  the  man  who, 
 with  rare  world-historical  insight,  was  able  to  explain  the  signs  of  the 
 times,  be  heard  of  many ! 
 Berlin,  May  6,  1839. 
 
 PREFACE  TO  THE  EOURTII  EDITION. 
 
 I  HAVE  sought,  in  this  fom-th  edition,  to  improve,  as  far  as  I  could, 
 both  the  matter  and  form  of  the  work ;  but  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to 
 add  anything  to  what  has  been  said  in  former  prefaces  upon  my  mode  of 
 treating  the  subject.  I  have  thought  it  best,  in  spite  of  a  desire  to 
 economize  space,  to  republish  those  prefaces ;  adding  here  and  thei-e  a 
 remark  called  for  by  the  relations  of  the  times,  which  I  should  have 
 otherwise  put  into  a  separate  preface.  Although  I  would  willingly  have 
 buried  in  oblivion  the  unpleasant  personal  allusions  (contained  in  the 
 second  prefece)  to  a  man  whom  I  honour  and  esteem,  I  have  considered 
 it  necessary  to  republish  it,  in  view  of  the  truths  which  it  contains,  and 
 their  bearing  upon  the  times; 
 
 And  now  let  my  book,  with  the  blessing  of  God,  enter  anew  among 
 the  strifes  of  the  age ;  standing  in  the  midst  of  wliich,  I  shall  not  suffer 
 myself  to  be  shaken  or  perplexed  by  the  '''  to.  iv  fikfft^  dn(poTt()uj9tv 
 KTtiverai." 
 
 A.  Neandee. 
 Beiiin,  August  3,  1845. 
 
 *  Leben  Niehuhr's  Thl.  ii.  344.  We  cannot  be  too  grateful  to  the  publishers  for 
 putting  forth  tliis  treasure  of  sound  feeUng  and  profound  truth. 
 
LIST  OF  DE.  NEANDER'S  WORKS. 
 
 Das  Leben  Jcsu  Christi,  in  seinem  geschichtliclien  Zusammenhange  unci 
 seiner  gescliiclitlichen  Entwickelung:  l'«  Aufl.  1837  ;  4'«  Aufl.  1845  (The 
 Life  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  its  Historical  Connexion  and  Historical  Develop- 
 ment: 1st  ed.  1837;  4th  ed.  1845). 
 
 Gesehichte  der  Pflanzung  und  Leitung  der  Christlichen  Kirche  durch 
 die  Apostel:  1"^  Aufl.  1832;  4"^  Aufl.  1847  (History  of  the  Planting  and 
 Training  of  the  Christian  Church  by  the  Apostles:   Ist  ed.  1832;  4th  ed. 
 
 1847). 
 
 AUgemeine  Gesehichte  der  Christlichen  Religion  und  Kirche  (General 
 History  of  the  Christian  Religion  and  Church). 
 
 (a)  Die  drei  ersten  Jahrlmudcrte :  lie  Aufl.  in  3  Banden ;  2te  Aufl.  in  2  Bd., 
 1842-43.  (The  three  first  centuries:  1st  edition  in  3  volumes,  1825;  2nd 
 edition  in  2  vols.  1842-43.) 
 
 (b)  Das  4te-6te  Jahrhundert:  Ite  Aufl.  in  drei  BUnden,  1828;  2te  Aufl.  in  2  Bd. 
 18Jfi-4".  (Fourth  to  sixth  century-:  1st  ed.  in  3  vols.  1828;  2nd  in  2  vols. 
 1846-47.) 
 
 (c)  6te-8te,  in  1  Bd.     (Sixth  to  eighth,  1  vol.),  1834. 
 
 (d)  8te-nte,  in  1  Bd.     (Eighth  to  eleventh,  1  vol.),  1836. 
 
 (e)  llte-l3te,  in  2  Banden.    (Eleventh  to  thirteenth,  2  vols.),  1841  and  1845. 
 
 Ueber  den  Kaiser  Julianus  und  sein  Zeitalter  (The  Emperor  Julian  and 
 his  Times),  1812. 
 
 Genetische  Entwickelung  der  vornehmsten  Gnosti.schen  Sj'steme  (Ge- 
 netical  Development  of  the  principal  Gnostic  Systems),  1818. 
 
 Anti-Gnosticus.  Geist  des  TertuUianus  und  Einleitung  in  de.ssea 
 Schriften  (Anti-Gnosticus.  Genius  of  TertuUian  and  Introduction  to  his 
 "Writings),  1825. 
 
 Der  heilige  Chrysostomus  und  die  Kirche  in  dessen  Zeitalter,  2|Bd. 
 1820;  2"^  Aufl.  1"=  Bd.  1832  (Chi-ysostom  and  the  Church  in  his  Times, 
 2  vols.  1820;  2d  ed.  of  Ist.  vol.  1832.) 
 
 Der  heilige  Bemhard  und  sein  Zeitalter  (Bernard  and  his  Times),  1813. 
 
 Denkwiirdigkeiten  aus  der  Gesehichte  des  Christenthums  und  des 
 Christlichen  Lcbens:  V  Aufl.  in  3  Bd.  1822  ;  3"  Aufl.  in  2  .Bd.  1845-46 
 (Memorabilia  from  the  History  of  Christianity  and  the  Christian  Life  : 
 1st  ed.  3  vols.  1822;  3d  ed.  2  vols.  1845-46). 
 
 Kleine  Gelegenheitschriften  praktisch-Christlichen,  vomehmlich  exege- 
 tischen  und  historischen  Inhalts,  3''  Aufl.  1829  (Smaller  IVeatises,  chiefly 
 exegetica.1  and  historical,  3d  ed.  1829). 
 
 Da.s  Eine  und  das  Mannichfaltige  des  Christlichen  Lebens ;  Eine  Reihe 
 kleiner  Gelegenheitschriften,  grcissertentheils  biographischen  Inhalts 
 (Series  of  smaller  Treatises,  chiefly  biographical),  1840. 
 
 Das  Princip  der  Reformation,  oder  Staupitz  und  Luther  (The  Principle 
 of  the  lieformation ;  or  Staupitz  and  Luther),  1840. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTIOK 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 THE  IDEA  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  CHRIST  I>J  OEVERAL. 
 
 5  1.  The  Indifference  of  Criticism  rejected Page  I 
 
 f  2.  Tlie  Truth,  tliat  Christ  is  God-man,  presupposed         ..         ..         ..         ..         2 
 
 j  3.  This  Presupposition  and  the  Historical  Accounts  mutually  confirm  and 
 
 illustrate  each  other         3 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 SOURCES  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 M-  Traditional  Origin  of  the  Synoptical  Gospels 7 
 
 ^5.  Genuhieuess  of  John's  Gospel        ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         7 
 
 i  6.  Results  of  Criticism 8 
 
 BOOK  I. 
 
 BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS. 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 \  7.  Scantiness  of  our  Information  in  regard  to  this  Period  of  Christ's  Life ; 
 
 nothing  further  essential  to  the  Interests  of  Religion        II 
 
 §  8.  Fundameutally  opposite  Motles  of  apprehending  the  Accounts        . .         . .       11 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 THE  MIRACULOUS  CONCEPTION. 
 
 5  9.  The  Miraculous  Conception  demanded  d  priori,  and  confirmed  d  posteriori      i; 
 S  10.  No  tr.ace  of  a  Mi/t/ms  in  the  Narrative.     Such  a  Myth  could  not  have  ori- 
 ginated amnup  the  .Tewish  people        ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..       13 
 
 511.  Objections  to  the  Credibility  of  the  Narrative  from  the  subsequent  Disposi- 
 
 tions of  Christ's  Relations  answered,  (I)  from  the  Nature  of  the  Case ; 
 
 (2)  from  the  Name  Jesus. .         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..       If 
 
 512.  Analogical  Ideas  among  the  Heathen i; 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 
 THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 i  \a.  The  Birth  of  Christ  in  its  Relations  to  the  Jewish  Theocracy 
 
 SM.  The  Miraculous  Events  that  accompanied  it 
 
 i  I  .'■>.  Tiic  Taxing ;  Jesus  bom  at  Bethlehem 
 
 i  16.  The  Announcement  of  the  Shepherds 
 
 i  17.  The  Sacrifice  of  "Purification,"  and  the  "Ransom  of  the  First-boni 
 Their  Weiglit  as  Proof  against  the  Mythical  Theory 
 
 HS.  .Simeon's  Prophetic  Discourse        
 
 i  1(1.  The  Longing  of  the  Heathen  for  a  Saviour.     Tlic  Star  of  the  Wise  Men 
 §  20.  The  Massacre  of  the  Innocents,  and  the  Flight  into  Egypt  . . 
 
XXIT  CONTENTS. 
 
 §  21.  The  Return  to  Nazareth Page  31 
 
 §  22.  Brothers  and  Sisters  of  Jesus  ;  the  mention  of  them  in  the  Gospel  Narra- 
 tive a  Proof  of  Credibility  33 
 
 i  23.  Consciousness  of  Messiahship  in  the  Mind  of  Jesus.    Christ  among  the 
 
 Doctors         33 
 
 BOOK  II. 
 
 THE  MENTAL  CULTURE  OF  JESUS  :    HTS  LIFE  TO  THE  TIME  OF  HIS 
 
 PUBLIC  MINISTRY. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 JESl'S    XOT   EDUCATED    IN'   THE    THEOLOGICAL    SCHOOLS    OF   THE    JEWS. 
 
 §  24.  The  Pharisees 36 
 
 ^  25.  The  Sadducees 36 
 
 i  26.  The  Essenes 38 
 
 527.  The  Alexandrian  Jews  ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  41 
 
 i  28.  Affinity  of  Christianity,  as  absolute  Truth,  for  the  various  opposing  Systems  41 
 
 429.  Christ's  Doctrine  revealed  from  Within,  not  received  from  Without         ..  41 
 
 §  30.  The  popular  Sentiment  in  regard  to  his  Connexion  with  the  Schools        . .  42 
 
 CHAPTER   II. 
 
 THE    LIFE    OF   JESUS    TO    THE    OPENING   OF    HIS    PUBLIC    MIVISTRT. 
 
 §31.  Consciousness  of  Messiahship  in  Christ 43 
 
 BOOK  III. 
 
 PREPARATIVES  TO  THE  PUBLIC  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 OBJECTIVE  PBKPABATION  :  MINI8TBT  OF  JOHK  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 RELATION   OF    THE    BAPTIST   TO    THE    JEWS, 
 
 §  32.  How  far  the  Baptist  revised  the  Expectation  of  a  Messiah     . .         . .         . .  43 
 
 i  33.  Causes  of  Obscurity  in  tlie  Accounts  left  us  of  the  Baptist.     Sources,  viz. 
 
 the  Ernngelixls,  Josf/t/iiis  ..         ..         ..  ..         ..  ..  ..  46 
 
 i  34.  Tlie  Baptism's  Mode  of  Life  and  Teaching  in  the  Desert         49 
 
 i  35.  John  as  Baptist  and  Preacher  of  Repentance 50 
 
 ^  36.  Relations  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducces  to  the  Baptist       51 
 
 i  37.  Relations  of  the  Baptist  to  the  People,  and  to  the  narrower  Circle  of  his 
 
 own  Disciples  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  S3 
 
 ^  38.  John's  Demands  upon  the  People  compared  with  those  of  Christ.     His 
 
 humble  Opinion  of  his  own  Calling     ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  53 
 
 CHAPTER   11. 
 
 THE    RKLATION    OF   THE    BAPTIST   TO   THE    MESSIAH. 
 
 4  39.  The  Baptist's  Explanation  of  Ins  Relation  to  Messiah.    The  Baptism  by 
 
 Witter  and  by  Firr  . .  . .  ..         ..         . .         . .         ..  ..  54 
 
 4  40.  The  Baptist's  Conception  of  Messiah's  Kingdom         55 
 
 441.  The  Baptist's  Recognition  of  Jesus  as  Messiah  ..         ..         ..         ..  56 
 
 (1)  Import  of  his  Baptism  of  Jesus  ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  58 
 
 (2)  The  Continuance  of  his  Ministry        59 
 
 (3)  Possible  Wavering  in  his  Convictions  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  60 
 
 (4)  His  Message  from  Prison  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  62 
 
 C5)  Conduct  of  his  Disciples  towards  Jesus        63 
 
 4  42.  The  Phenomena  at  the  Baptism,  and  their  Import 6.1 
 
 (1)  No  Ecstatic  Vision  64 
 
 (2)  The  Ebionilish  View,  and  its  Opposite         64 
 
 (3)  Development  of  the  Notion  of  Baptism  in  New  Testament       . .        . .  65 
 
CONTENTS.  XXV 
 
 5  42.  (4)  The  Baptism  of  Christ  not  a  Rite  of  Purification Page  66 
 
 (5)  But  of  Consecration  to  his  Theocratic  Reign         67 
 
 (6)  John's  previous  Acquaintance  with  Christ  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .       68 
 
 (7)  Explanation  of  John  i.  31  69 
 
 (8)  The  Vision  and  the  Voice :  intended  exclusively  for  the  Baptist         . .       70 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 SUBJECTIVE  PBEPAKATION  :   THE  TEMPTATION  OF  CHBIST. 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 IMPORT    OF   THE    INDIVIDUAL   TEMPTATIOXS. 
 
 M3.  The  Hunger "1 
 
 §  44.  The  Pinnacle  of  the  Temple 75 
 
 i  45.  The  World- Dominion "6 
 
 CHAPTER   ir. 
 
 IMPORT   OF   THE   TEMPTATION    AS   A   WHOLE. 
 
 k  46.  Fundamental  Idea 77 
 
 M7.  The  Temptation  not  an  inward  one,  but  the  Work  of  Satan 77 
 
 BOOK  ly. 
 
 THE  PUBLIC  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST  ACCORDING  TO  ITS  REAL 
 CONNEXION. 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 THE  PLAN  OP  CHBIST. 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 THE    PLAN    OF   CHRIST    IN    GENERAL. 
 
 §  48.  Had  Christ  a  conscious  Plan  ?         80 
 
 h  49.  Connexion  with  the  Old  Testament  Theocracy 82 
 
 §  50.  Christ's  steadfast  Consciousness  of  Messiahsbip  83 
 
 §51.  His  Plan  underwent  no  Alterations  84 
 
 h  52.  TiA'O-fold  bearing  of  the  Kingdom  of  God.     (1)  An  inward,  spiritual  Power : 
 
 (2)  A  world-renewing  Power 88 
 
 CHAPTER   II. 
 
 THE    PLAN    OF   CHBIST   IN    ITS    RELATION   TO   THE    OLD   TESTAMENT   IDEA    OF   THE 
 KINGDOM    OF    GOD. 
 
 §  53.  Christ's  Observance  of  the  JewLsh  Worship  and  Law 89 
 
 §54.  His  Manifestation  g-re(/to' than  the  Temple        ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  92 
 
 \  bo.  Tlie  Conversation  with  the  Samaritan  Woman 93  • 
 
 j  06.  The  "Destroying"  and  "  Fulfilling"  of  the  Law         94 
 
 §  57.  The  Interpolation  in  Luke  vi.  4.    (Cod.  Cant.) 96 
 
 CHAPTER   III. 
 
 NEW  FORM  OF  THE  IDEA  OF  THE  PERSON  OF  THE  THEOCRATIC  KINO. 
 
 §  58.  Tlic  Names  "Son  of  God"  and  "Son  of  Man"            98 
 
 \  59.  Import  of  the  Title  "  Son  of  Man,"  as  used  by  Christ  himself.    Rejection 
 
 of  Alexandrian  and  other  Analogies 98 
 
 §  flO.  Import  of  the  Title  "Son  of  God" 100 
 
 ( 1    John's  Sense  of  the  Title  accordant  with  tJiat  of  the  other  Evangelists  1 00 
 
 (2)  .(Vnd  confirmed  by  Paul's           101 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 THE  ITELVNS  AND  IN3TBCMENT3  OF  CHRIST. 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 THE    .MEAN'S    Of    CHRIST    IN    GENERAL. 
 
 ;  6i-    Christ  a  Spiritual  Teacher 102 
 
XXVI  CONTENTS. 
 
 ^62.  Different  Theatres  of  liis  Work  as  Teacher         Page  ina 
 
 j  tJ3.  Choice  and  Training  of  the  Apostles  to  be  subordinate  Teachers    ..         ..      103 
 
 CHAPTER   II. 
 Christ's  mode  of  teaching  ix  regari)  to  its  .method  and  form. 
 
 A.    IT<!    CENERAI,    principles. 
 
 5  fi4.  His  Mode  of  Teaching  adapted  to  tlie  Stand-point  of  his  Hearers  ,.         ..  104 
 
 §  65.  His  Truth  presented  in  O'crm  to  be  developed  ;  Seeds  of  Thought  . .         . .  Ida 
 
 5  66.  Its  Results  dependent  upon  the  Susceptibility  of  the  Hearers          . .         . .  lo6 
 j  67.  This  con-esponds  to  the  general  Law  of  Development  of  the  Kingdom  of 
 
 God 110 
 
 B.  Christ's  use  of  paraiiles. 
 5  fis.  Idea  of  the  Parable.     Distinction  between  Parable,  Fable,  and  Mythus   ..      Ill 
 i  C9.  Order  in  which  the  Parables  were  delivered.     Their  Perfection.     Mode  of 
 
 interpreting  them  . .  113 
 
 §  70.  Christ's  Teaclnng  not  con/ined  to  Parables,  but  conveyed  also  in  longer 
 
 Discourses    ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..114 
 
 §  71-  John's  Gospel  contains  chiefly  connected  and  profound  Discourses,  and 
 
 why  > 114 
 
 §  72.  The  Parable  of  the  Shepherd  in  John,  compared  with  the  Parables  in  the 
 
 other  Gospels         II6 
 
 c.  Christ's  use  of  acco.m.modation. 
 
 §  73.  Necessity  of  Accommodation  117 
 
 ^  74.  Distinction  between  Material  and  Formal  Accommodation 118 
 
 ^  75.  Christ's  Application  of  Passages  from  Old  Testament 120 
 
 CHAPTER   III. 
 choice  a.vd  training  ok  the  .vpostles  as  teachers. 
 §  76.  Christ's  Relation  to  the  Twelve.     Significance  of  the  Number.    The  Name 
 Apostle 
 
 i~7.  Choice  of  the  Apostles.     Of  Judas  Iscariot         
 
 4  78.  The  Apostles  uneducated  Men 
 
 §  7i).  Two  Stages  in  their  Dependence  upon  Christ    . . 
 
 §  80.  Clirist's  pecidiar  Method  of  Training  the  Apostles       
 
 121 
 123 
 124 
 12fi 
 126 
 
 CHAPTER   IV. 
 the  church  and  baptism. 
 
 5  81.  Founding  of  the  Church.     Its  Objects 127 
 
 §  82.  Name  of  the  Church.     Its  Form  traced  back  to  Christ          129 
 
 5  83.  Later  Institution  of  Baptism  as  an  initiatory  Rite        132 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 THE    .miracles    of   CHRIST:    THEIR    CHARACTER    AND    OBJECTS. 
 A.    THE    OBJECTIVE    CHARACTER    OK    MIRACLES. 
 
 5  84.  Connexion  of  Christ's  Miracles  with  his  Mode  of  Teachmg  . .         ..         ..  133 
 
 §  S.'i.  Negative  Elenent       13 » 
 
 M'i.  Positive  Element.     Teleological  Object. .            I3!> 
 
 M7.  Relation  of  Miracles  to  the  rourf.e  of  Natiire 137 
 
 \  HH.  Relation  of  the  individual  .Miracles  to  the  highest  Miracle,  viz.,  the  Mani- 
 festation of  Christ '3^ 
 
 §  89.  Relation  of  Miracles  to  History 1 3i) 
 
 B.   THE    MIRACLES    OF   CHRIST   AS    VIEWED    BV    HIS    CONTKMrORARIES. 
 
 5  90.  Miracles  deemed  in  essential  Sign  of  Mcssiahship 140 
 
 c.  ci:rist's  own  estimate  of  his  miracles. 
 
 §  91.  Apparent  Discrepancies:  Mode  of  removing  them 14  J 
 
 (1)  IVo-fold  Objict  of  the  Miracles         I4-' 
 
 (2)  A  Susceptibility  for  Impression  iircsui^iosed           ..          ..          ..          ■•  14- 
 
 5  02.  His  Explanation  of  the  "  Sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonah"           Hi 
 
 5  !)3.  His  Declaration,  "  Destroy  this  Temple,"  itc 14'> 
 
 t  94.  His  Distinction  between  the  Mafn-itil  and  Formal  in  the  Miracles  . .          . .  14r. 
 
 i  (iri.  His  Appeals  to  Miracles  as  Testimony.     1  hree  diirercnt  Stages  of  Faith  . .  I4(> 
 
 i  96.  The  Communication  of  the  Divine  Life  the  highest  Miracle 148 
 
 CHAPTER  VI. 
 TUB  miracles  of  cmrist  considerkd  in  regard  to  supernatural  acencv. 
 
 §  97-  Transition  from  the  Natural  to  the  Supernatural  in  the  Miracles  . .         . .  148 
 
CONTENTS,  XXVU 
 
 A.    UIRACLES    WROL'CIIT    UPON    HUMAN    NATURE. 
 
 I.  The  Healinp  iif  IHsfnaes. 
 
 S  98.  Use  of  Spiritual  Agencies.     Faith  demanded  for  the  Cure   . .         . .      Page  149 
 
 §99.  Use  of  Physical  Ag-encies 151 
 
 S  lou.  Relation  bet%veeu  Sin  and  Physical  E\-il.    Jewish  Idea  of  Pujiitivc  Justice. 
 
 Clurist's  Doctrine  on  the  Subject  151 
 
 II.  Demon  in  cal  Posses.iio  n . 
 
 I  101.  Two  extreme  Theories.     Analogous  Phenomena        i:a 
 
 f  1U2.  Connexion  of  the  Phenomena  with  the  .State  of  the  Times  . .         ..         ..  1.15 
 
 i  103.  Accommodation  of  the  TSvo  extreme  Theories           ..         ..         ..         ..  15/ 
 
 f  104.  Christ's  E.xplanations  of  Demonism  purely  Spiritual.     His  Accommoda- 
 tion to  the  Conceptions  of  the  Demoniacs     ..         ..         ..         ..         ..15^ 
 
 5  105.  Diflcrenccs  between  Christ's  Cures  of  Demoniacs  and  the  Operations  of 
 
 the  Jewish  Exorcists        l6o 
 
 III.  The  Raising  of  the  Dead. 
 
 J  106.  Different  Views  on  these  Miracles          I6l 
 
 B.    MIRACI.KS  WROUGHT  UPON  MATKRIAL  NATURE. 
 
 J  10".  Most  obvious  Manifestations  of  Supernatural  Power  ..        ..        ..     162 
 
 BOOK  y. 
 
 THE  PUBLIC  MFNISTRY  OF  CHRIST  ACCORDING  TO  ITS 
 CHRONOLOGICAL  CONNEXION. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ON  THE  DIFFERENCES  BETWEEN  THE  STNOPTICAL  GOSPELS  AND  JOHN. 
 
 ^108.  Differences  in  Chronology  ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  16S 
 
 i  log.  Difl'erences  as  to  the  Theatre  of  Christ's  Labours 163 
 
 i  110.  Proof  that  Christ  frequently  exercised  his  Ministry  in  Judea  and  Jeru- 
 salem    164 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 FROM  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OF  CHRI.ST's  PUBLIC  MINISTRY  TO  THE 
 TlllUMPHAL  ENTRY. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 JESUS   AND    JOHN   THE    BAPTIST.      THE    FIRST   DISCIPLES. 
 
 §  1 1 1 .  Message  of  the  Sanhedrim  to  John  at  Bethabara       16/ 
 
 \  112.  John  points  to  Jesus  as  the  Suffering  Messiah,  and  testifies  to  his  Higher 
 
 Dignity         169 
 
 5  113.  John  and  Andrew,  Disciples  of  the  Baptist,  attach  themselves  to  Jesus. 
 
 Gradual  Attraction  of  Others 170 
 
 CHAPTER   II. 
 
 FIRST   PUBLIC   TEACHING    OK    CHRIST.      CAPERNAUM. 
 
 §  114.  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes.    Effect  on  Peter,  Andrew,  James,  and 
 
 John i;i 
 
 5115.  The  Calling  of  Nathanael 174 
 
 CHAPTER   111. 
 
 CHRIST    AT    CANA. 
 
 §  116.  The  Water  changed  into  Wine.    Character  and  Import  of  the  Miracle   ..     1'5 
 CHAPTER  IV. 
 
 FIRST   JOURXEV   TO    JERUSALEM    TO    ATTEND    TUB    FE.\ST   OP    PASSOVER. 
 
 f  117.  The  Cleansing  of  the  Temple 
 
 1118.  The  Saying  of  Christ,  "  Destroy  this  Temple,"  &c 
 
 §  119.  Christ  and  Nicodemus 
 
 (1)  Dispositions  of  the  Pharisees  and  People:  of  Nicodemus 
 
 (2)  The  New  Birth 
 
 178 
 
 180 
 1 83 
 
 183 
 185 
 
XSrVUl  COSTTENTS. 
 
 §  119.  (3)  The  Birth  of  "Water  and  the  Spirit"         Page  186 
 
 (4)  Christ  intimates  his  own  Sufferings  188 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 JESUS    AT   JRy!Oy,    NEAR    SALIM. 
 
 i  120.  Jealousy  of  John's  Disciples.     Final  Testimony  of  the  Baptist.    His 
 
 Imprisonment 189 
 
 CHAPTER  VI. 
 
 RETURN   THROUGH    SAMARIA   TO    GALILEE:    THE    SAMARITAN   WOMAN. 
 
 §121.  First  Impressions  of  the  Samaritan  Woman 192 
 
 i  122.  Christ's  Decision  between  the  Worship  of  the  Jews  and  that  of  the 
 
 Samaritans  . .         . .         . .  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  193 
 
 §123.    The  Worship  of  God  in  "  Spirit  and  in  Truth  "         194 
 
 §  124.  Bearing  of  the  Spiritual  Worship  upon  Practical  Life  I95 
 
 §  125.  Christ  glances  at  the  future  Progress  of  his  Kingdom,  and  at  his  own 
 
 Death  196 
 
 §126.  Subsequent  State  of  the  Samaritans       ..         197 
 
 CHAPTER  VII. 
 
 Christ's  first  general  ministry  in  galilee. 
 
 §127.  Christ  heals  the  Nobleman's  Son.    Chooses  Capernaum  as  his  Abode    ..     198 
 
 §  128.  Christ  appears  in  the  Synagogue  at  Nazareth.    His  Life  is  endangered  . .     199 
 
 §129.  Parable  of  the  Sower.     Clirist's  Explanation  of  it  . .         ..         ..         ..         200 
 
 §130.  Parable  of  the  Draw-net :  of  the  Wheat  and  Tares  ..         ..         ..         2U3 
 
 §  131.  Christ  subdues  the  Storm.      Character    of    the    Miracle.      Its  moral 
 
 Import        204 
 
 §  132.  The  Gadarene  Demoniac 205 
 
 §  133.  Return  to  the  West  Side  of  the  Sea.  Healing  of  the  Issue  of  Blood  . .  209 
 §134.  Raismg  of  Jairus's  Daughter,  and  of  the  Widow's  Son  at  Nain  ..  ..  210 
 §  135.  Doubts  of  John  Baptist  in  Prison.     His  Message.     Christ's  Testimony 
 
 concerning  Him.     Relation  of  Old  and  New  Dispensations      ..         ..     212 
 §  136.  Relation  of  the  People  to  the  Baptist  and  to  Clirist.    The  Ea-sy  Yoke  and 
 
 the  Light  Burden.    Jewish  Legalism  contrasted  with  Christian  Liberty    216 
 §  13".  Christ's  Conversation  with  the  Pharisees  in  regard  to  his  Disciples'  Mode 
 
 of  Life.    The  Morals  of  Fasting  218 
 
 §  138.  Parable  of  the  New  Patch  on  the  Old  Garment:  of  the  New  Wme  in  Old 
 
 Bottles        220 
 
 §139.  Forms  of  Prayer.    The  Lord's  Prayer 222 
 
 §  140.  Christ  and  the  Magdalen  at  Simon's  House.     Reciprocal  Action  of  Love 
 
 and  Faith  in  the  Forgiveness  of  Sins. .         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..     227 
 
 §  141.  Call  of  Matthew  the  Publican.     The  Fea.st       229 
 
 §  142.  Christ's  different  Modes  of  Reply  to  those  who  questioned  his  Condiict 
 in  consorttng  with  Sinners.  Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son:  of  the  Pha- 
 risee and  Publican  231 
 
 CHAPTER  VIII. 
 Christ's  second  journey  to  Jerusalem. 
 
 §  143.  The  Miracle  of  the  Pool  of  Bethesda.  The  Words  of  Christ  in  the  Temple 
 
 to  the  Man  healed  233 
 
 §  144.  Christ  accused  of  Sabbath-breaking  and  Blasphemy.    His  Discourse  in 
 
 Vindication  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .     235 
 
 §  145.  The   Discourse   continued:    Clirist  intimates    his   greater   Works.     His 
 
 Judgment,  and  the  Resurrection        236 
 
 §  146.  Tlie  Discourse  continued  :  Christ  Appeals  to  the  Testimony  of  his  Works  238 
 §  147.  The  Discoiu-se  continued:    Incapacity  of  the  Jews  to  understand  the 
 
 Testimony  of  God  ui  the  Scriptures 239 
 
 CHAPTER  IX. 
 
 Christ's  second  course  op  extended  labour  in  galilee. 
 
 The  Sermon  on  the  jMount. 
 
 Infroductinn. 
 
 §148.  (1)  Place  and  Circumstances        240 
 
 (2)  Subject-matter  of  the  Sermon;  viz.  the  Kingdom  of  God  as  the  Aim 
 
 of  the  Old  Dispensation 241 
 
 (3)  Two  Editions  of  the  Sermon ;  Matthew's  and  Luke's    ..         ..         ..     241 
 
 (4)  Its  Pervading  Rcljuke  of  Carnal  Conceptions  of  the  Messiataship      . .     241 
 
CONTENTS.  XXIX 
 
 I.  The  Beatitudes. 
 
 5  1 -19.  Moral  i?e7ut«i7cs  for  entering  the  Kingdom  of  God              ..        ..     Page  2-12 
 
 (1)  Poverty  of  Spirit            242 
 
 (2)  Meekness            243 
 
 (3)  Hungering  and  Thirsting  after  Righteousness 243 
 
 {  150.  Moral  Result  of  entering  the  Kingdom.     "The  Pure  in  Heart  see  God  "  244 
 §151.  'M.oral  liclatio)i.i  of  tlie  Members  of  the  Kingdom  to  their  Fellow-men  j 
 
 viz.  they  are  "Peace-makers,"  and  "  Persecuted"          ..         ..         ..  244 
 
 II.  Influence  of  the  Members  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  Renewing  the  World. 
 §  152.  The  Disciples  of  Christ  the  "Light"  and  "  Salt"  of  the  Earth     ..         ..246 
 
 III.  The  Law  of  Christian  Life  the  Fulfilment  of  the  Old  Law, 
 
 J  153.  Fulfilling  the  Law  and  the  Prophets 24/ 
 
 §  154.  Fulfilling  the  Law  in  the  Higher  Sense.     General  Contrast  between  the 
 
 Juridical  and  Moral  Standpoints       . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  250 
 
 5  155.  Fulfilling  the  Law  in  the  Higher  Sense.      Special  Examples,  viz.   (1) 
 Murder;    (2)  Adultery;    (3)  Divorce;    (4)  Perjury;    (5)  Revenge;  (6) 
 National  Exclusiveuess  ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..251 
 
 IV,  True  Religion  contrasted  with  the  Mock  Piety  of  the  Pharisees. 
 §  156.  (I)  Alms,  Prayer,  and  Fasting;  (2)  Rigid  Judgment  of  Self,  MUd  Judg- 
 ment of  others ;  (3)  Test  of  Sincerity           253 
 
 V.  Warning  to  the  Children  of  the  Kingdom. 
 
 §  isr.  Exhortation  to  Self-denial.     Warning  against  Seducers 254 
 
 VI.  True  and  False  Disciples  contrasted. 
 
 §  158.  Test  of  Discipleship             256 
 
 §  159.  Healing  of  the  Leper  on  the  Way  to  Capernaum        257 
 
 §  l6o.  Healing  of  the  Centurion's  Slave  at  Capernaum        ..         ..         ..         ..  257 
 
 §  l6l.  HeaUng  of  the  Deaf  and  Diunb  Demoniac.    Charge  of  a  League  with 
 
 Beelzebub  refuted           259 
 
 i  162.  Conjurations  of  the  Jewish  Exorcists 261 
 
 i  163.  Blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  against  the  Son  of  Man  . .         . .  263 
 
 5164.  Purpose  of  Christ's  Relatives  to  confine  him  as  a  Lunatic   ..         ..         ..  264 
 
 5  165.  Demand  for  a  Sign  answered  by  "  the  Sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonah  "          . .  266 
 
 §166.  Discourse  at  a  Feast  against  the  Pharisees  and  Lawyers     ..         ..         ..  267 
 
 i  167.  The  Disciples  warned  against  the  Pharisees.     Power  of  Truth       . .         . .  269 
 
 I  168.  Christ  heals  a  Paralytic  at  Capernaum.     Charge  of  Blasphemy  repelled  2/1 
 
 §  169.  Withered  Hand  healed  on  the  Sabbath.     Objectitms  anticipated              ..  274 
 
 ^170.  Infirm  Woman  healed  on  tlie  Sabbath.     Pharisees  disconcerted              ..  275 
 
 i  171.  Precedence  at  Feasts.     Partible  of  the  Great  Supper            ..         ..         ..  276 
 
 ^  172.  The  Pharisees  attack  the  DLsciples  for  pluckmg  Com  on  the  Sabbath. 
 
 Christ  defends  them        277 
 
 i  173.  Discourse  against  the  merely  outward  Cleanliness  of  the  Pharisees        . .  279 
 
 H74.  Trial  Mission  of  the  Apostles  in  Galilee             280 
 
 (1)  Objects  of  the  Mission.     Powers  of  the  Missionaries     ..         ..         ..  280 
 
 (2)  Instructions  to  the  Missionaries.     Reasons  for  the  Exclusion  of  Sa- 
 
 maritans and  Heathen         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ,.         ..  281 
 
 '35  Instructions  continued :  the  Apostles  to  rely  on  Providence    ..         ..  283 
 
 075.  Various  Ophiions  entertained  of  Jesiis  ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  284 
 
 f  176.  Return  of  the  Apostles.     Feeding  of  the  Five  Thousand 284 
 
 i  177.  Christ  Walks  upon  the  Waters 288 
 
 5178.  Christ  in  the  Synagogue  at  Capernaum            ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  289 
 
 (1)  Camal  Mind  of  the  Multitude  rebidted        289 
 
 (2)  Christ  the  "  Bread  of  Life  " 290 
 
 (3)  Eatuig  Christ's  Flesh  and  Drinking  his  Blood 292 
 
 (4)  Sifting  of  the  Apostles.     Confession  of  Peter        294 
 
 CHAPTER  X. 
 
 JESUS    IN    NORTH    GALILEE,    AND    ON   THE    WAY   TO    CESAREA    PHILIPPI. 
 
 §179.  Reasons  of  the  Journey 294 
 
 §  180.  Blind  Man  cured  at  Bethsaida.    Peter's  Second  Confession.    Power  of 
 
 the  Keys 295 
 
 §  181.  The  Disciples  forbidden  to  reveal  Christ's  Messianic  Digni^.    Peter's 
 
 Weakness  rebuked          . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  297 
 
 M82.  Monitions  to  the  Apostles             298 
 
 vl)  Wisdt>m  of  Serpents  and  Harmlessness  of  Doves. .          . .         . .         . .  298 
 
 (2)  Parable  of  the  Unjust  Steward          300 
 
 1.3)  "  Friends  of  the  Mammon  of  Unrighteousness  "            300 
 
XX -X.  CONTENTS. 
 
 H S3.  Caution  (\!;aiii»t  ini prudent  Zeal  Page  303 
 
 ^  1S4.  The  SjTD.Phicuieiiiu  Woman.     {\.)  Her  Prayer;    (3^  Her  Repulse;  i.3) 
 
 Her  perseverinj-  Faitli ;  ^-t)  The  Result        305 
 
 ^  18S.  The  Transfitruration  307 
 
 §186.  Elias  a  Forerunner  of  Messiah 3lig 
 
 i  IS7.  Cure  of  a  Hemoniac,  alter  vain  Attempts  of  the  Disciples    ..  ..  310 
 
 j  188.  The  Disciples'   Failure  explained.    The   Power  of  Faith.    Prayer  and 
 
 Fasting        .".         ..  312 
 
 J  189.  Return  to  Capernaum.     Dispute  for  Precedence.    Tlje  Child  a  Pattern. 
 
 Acting  in  tlie  Name  of  Christ 313 
 
 5  190.  Christ's  two  Sayings,  "  He  that  is  not  ngdinst  you  is  for  you;"  and, 
 
 "  He  that  is  not /or  me  is  against  me"         ..     ' 313 
 
 ^  191.  The  Stater  in  the  Fish         31; 
 
 CH AFTER  XI. 
 
 niRIST's    JOTRXEY   TO    JKRVSAl.K.M    TO    .\TTKNl>    THK    FKAST    OF   T.VUKRXACLKS. 
 
 §192.  His  Precautions  against  the  Sanhedrim  319 
 
 i  193.  Christ  explains  the  Nature  of  his  Teaehuig  as  Divine  Revelation  . .  320 
 
 H 94.  The  Pharisees  attempt  to  arrest  him 321 
 
 I  195.  Christ  a  "  Spring  of  Living  Water,"  and  the  "  Light  of  tlie  World."    Va- 
 lidity of  his  Testimony  of  Himself      . .         . .         .  . .         , .         . .  322 
 
 M96.  Connexion  betwoon  Stoadl'astncss,  Truth,  and  Freedom 324 
 
 t  197.  Vain  AttiMupts  of  the  Sanliedrim.     First  Decision  agauist  Christ  . .         ..  32d 
 
 i  19s.  Man  born  Blind  healed  on  the  Sabbath.     Individual  Sufferings  not  to  be 
 
 judged  a  Punishment  for  Sin  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  326 
 
 ^  199.  Attempts  of  the  Sanheilrim  to  corrupt  the  restored  Man.     "  The  Sight  of 
 
 the  Hlii\d,  and  the  lUindness  of  the  Seeing"  ..         ..         ..         ..  828 
 
 §  200.  P;u-able  of  the  Good  Shepherd.     The  Parable  extended        329 
 
 §  201.  Divisions  among  the  People.     Christ  rctiu-ns  to  GiUilee       331 
 
 CHAPTER  XII. 
 
 RKTl'RX    FROM    C.VPKRN.\CM    TO    JKRrsAI.KM    THROfOH    S.\M.\RI.\. 
 
 ^  202.  Reasons  for  the  Journey  through  Samaria 333 
 
 ^203.  Mission  of  the  Seventy.     Significance  of  the  Number  ..         ..         ..  333 
 
 «  204.  Instructions  to  the  Seventy.    The  Woe  to  the  I'nbelieviiig  Cities            ..  334 
 §  20.">.  Exultation  of  the  Disciples.     Christ  warns  them  against  \'!\nity  ..     '    ..  336 
 {  206.  The  Kingdom  revealed  to  Babes.      Ulessetlness  of  the  Disciples  in  be- 
 holding it 33" 
 
 ^207.  Requisites  of  Discipleship.     Self- Denial,  Submission,  talcing  up  the  Cross  339 
 \  208.  Self- Denial  further  illustrated:  Parables  of  the  building  of  the  Tower,  of 
 the  Warring  King,  of  the  Sacrificial  Salt,  of  the  Trciisiu'C  hid  in  a 
 
 Field,  of  the  Peail  of  Great  Price       343 
 
 i  209.  Christ  refuses  to  interfere  in  Civil  Disputes.    His  Decision  in  the  Case  of 
 
 the  Adulteress 343 
 
 ^  210.  Christ  intimates  the  Future  345 
 
 i  211.  Parables  of  the  Mustard  Seed  and  the  Leaven  345 
 
 j  212.  The  Fire  to  be  kindled.    The  Baptism  of  Sufferings.     Christianity  not 
 
 Peace,  but  a  Sword        . .  . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  347 
 
 i  213.  The  Kingdom  of  God  cometh  not  with  Obsenation  348 
 
 ^214.  Christ's  personal  Return  and  the  Day  of  Judgment  ..  ..  ..         ..  349 
 
 §21.1.  Exhortation  to  Watch  for  Christ's  Coming.     The  bnportunate  Widow      ..  350 
 
 §  216.  Call  to  entire  Devotion.    The  Straight  Gate 3.->l 
 
 i  217-  The  Signs  of  the  Times 352 
 
 §  21s.  The  contracted  Jewish  Theocracy  rejected 3".S 
 
 f  219-  Parable  of  Dives  and  l.azarus       ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  ..  354 
 
 §220.  Persecutions  of  Heroil  Antipas 355 
 
 §  221.  Ctost  speaks  of  his  Death  356 
 
 §  222.  HejUing  of  the  Ten  Lepers.     Ingratitude  of  the  Nine.    Gratitude  of  the 
 
 one  Samaritan      . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  357 
 
 CHAPTER  XIII. 
 Christ's  stay  at  jkrusalkm  iuring  tub  fsast  op  nEnicATiov. 
 }  223.  His  Statement  of  the  Proofs  of  his  Messiahship.     His  Oneness  with  the 
 
 Father.     He  defends  liis  Words  from  the  Old  Testament        ..         . .     SSj 
 
 CHAPTER  XIV. 
 
 CHRIST    IV    FKR.n.V    ^RKTHABARa). 
 
 \  224.  His  Decision  on  the  Question  of  Divorce.    Celibacy  36l 
 
CO>?TENT.S.  XXXI 
 
 §  22.';.  The  Blcssiiis,' of  Little  Children Page  3f)^ 
 
 §  226.  Conversation  with  the  rich  lluler  of  the  SjTiagogue Sfi.'i 
 
 §  227.  The  Dan-ccrs  of  Wealth 3(58 
 
 §  22«.  The  Keib'u  of  Uclievers  with  Christ        3(ifl 
 
 CHAPTER  XV. 
 
 CHIU.ST   IN    DKTIIANV. 
 
 §  229.  Family  of  Lazarus.     Martha  and  Mary.     Their  different  Tendencies      ..  3^0 
 
 j  2:tu.  Sickne.ss  of  Lazarus.     Christ's  Reply  to  the  Messengers :t71 
 
 J  231.  Death  of  Lazarus.    ChrLst's  Conversation  with  the  Disciples  in  regard 
 
 to  it 373 
 
 i  232.  Death  of  Lazarus.     Christ's  Conversation  with  Martha;  with  Mary       ..  375 
 
 \  233.  Resurrection  of  Lazarus.     Christ's  Prayer       377 
 
 i  231.  Measures  of  the  Sanhedrim          378 
 
 CH.\PTER  XVL 
 
 CnillST   IS    £1>HR.\IM. 
 
 i  23J.  The  Necessity  for  his  Death          379 
 
 CHAPTER  XVII. 
 Christ's  last  passovkr  journev  to  Jerusalem. 
 
 §230.  Journey  to  Jericho,     blind  Dartiineus 380 
 
 §237.  Christ  lodges  with  Zaccheus         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..  382 
 
 <)  238.  The  Recjuest  of  Salome.    Ambition  of  the  Disciples  rebuked        . .         . .  382 
 
 §  239.   Parable  of  the  Pounds        384 
 
 i  241).  Parable  of  the  Labourers  in  the  Vineyard        . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  38.5 
 
 i  24 1 .  Passion  for  Rewards  rebukeil        387 
 
 i  242.  Christ  anointed  by  Mary  in  Bethany 388 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 FROM   THE   TRIUMPHAL   ENTRY   TO   THE   ASCENSION. 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 PROM  THE  TRIUMPHAL  EVTRV  TO  THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
 
 \  243.  The  Entrj'  into  Jerusalem 390 
 
 i  244.  Sadness  of  Christ  at  Sight  of  the  City '■i9-^ 
 
 4  245.  The  Fig-tree  cursed.     Parable  of  the  Fig-tree          3!W 
 
 §246.  Machinations  of  the  Pharisees 39() 
 
 §  247.  Union  of  the  Pharisees  and  Herodlans.     Tribute  to  Caesar 397 
 
 i  248.  Christ's  Reply  to  the  Pharisees  about  the  Resurrection 398 
 
 §249.  His  Exposition  of  the  First  and  Great  Commandment        ..         ..         ..  399 
 
 §250.  Parable  of  the  Good  Samaritan 400 
 
 §251.  Christ's  Interpretation  of  Psalm  c.\.  1 401 
 
 §  2.52.  The  Widow's  Mite 404 
 
 §253.  Christ  i)redicts  the  Divine  Judgments  upon  Jerusalem        ..         ..         ..  404 
 
 §254.  He  ))redicts  the  coining  of  the  Kingdom,  and  the  Second  Advent. .         ..  405 
 
 §255.  Parable  of  the  Marriage  Feast  of  the  Kujg's  Son     ..         ..         ..         ..  408 
 
 §256.  Parable  of  tlie  wicked  Vine-dressers     ..         ..         ..         ..         ..         --  410 
 
 §257.  Parable  of  the  Talents  compared  with  that  of  the  Pounds 411 
 
 §258.  Parable  of  the  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins. .         ..         ..         ..         ..         ..412 
 
 §259.  Christ  teaelics  that  Faith  must  prove  itself  by  Works        ..         ..         ..  412 
 
 §  26u.  The  Heathens  with  Christ 414 
 
 §  261.  Christ's  Struggles  of  SouL    The  Voice  from  Heaven 4I6 
 
 §  262.  Christ  closes  his  Public  Ministry 418 
 
 §  2fi3.  Machinations  of  his  Enemies         ..         ..  ..         ..  ..         ..  ..418 
 
 §264.  Motives  of  Judas  in  betraying  Christ 419 
 
 (1;  Avarice? 420 
 
 (2)  False  Views  of  Christ's  Messiahship  ?         422 
 
 (3)  Gradually  developed  Hostility  ?        423 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 THE    LAST   SUPPER. 
 
 §  265.  Object  of  Christ  in  the  Last  Sn])per         425 
 
 §  266.  Christ's  wa-shing  of  the  Disciples' Feet 428 
 
 §  267.  His  Words  with,  and  concerrung,  his  Betrayer. .        . .        . .        . .         . .  429 
 
 §  268.  Institution  of  the  Eucharist         430 
 
XXXa.  CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 Christ's  last  discourses  at  table  with  ihb  disciples. 
 
 i  269.  The  New  Commandment Page  433 
 
 §  270.  The  Request  of  Peter  :  Christ  predicts  his  Denial 434 
 
 5271.  He  predicts  Danger  to  his  Disciples        434 
 
 5  272.  He  consoles  the  Disciples    . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  436 
 
 J  273.  Conversation  with  Philip  and  Thomas 438 
 
 i  274.  Of  Prayer  in  the  Name  of  Christ.    He  promises  the  Comforter    . .        . .  440 
 
 5  275.  Christ's  Salutation  of  "  Peace."    Its  import 441 
 
 CHAPTER  IV. 
 
 DISCOURSES    OF    CHRIST   AFTER    RISIXG    FROM    TABLE. 
 
 i  276.  Similitude  of  the  Vine  and  Branches.    The  Law  of  Love 442 
 
 5277.  Final  Promise  of  the  Holy  Ghost 444 
 
 5278.  Christ's  Prayer  as  High-priest 446 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 GETH  SE  M  ANE. 
 
 f  279.  Comparison  of  John's  Gospel  with  the  Synoptical  Gospels 448 
 
 f  280.  Tlie  Agony  m  the  Garden 45! 
 
 5  281.  The  Arrest.    Peter's  Haste  rebuked       453 
 
 CHAPTER  VI. 
 
 THE    TRIAL    AND    COXDEMXATIOV. 
 
 §282.  Night.    Examination  before  Annas 455 
 
 §283.  Morning.     Examination  before  Caiaphas        456 
 
 §  284.  Double-dealing  of  the  Sanhedrim          45/ 
 
 §  285.  Christ  before  Pilate.     His  Kingdom  not  of  this  World        459 
 
 §  286.  Christ  sent  to  Herod 4fio 
 
 §  287.  Pilate's  lYuitless  Efforts  to  save  Christ.    Dream  of  Pilate's  Wife  . .        . .  4Gl 
 
 §  288.  Last  Conversation  with  Pilate.     The  Sentence 462 
 
 §  289.  Christ  led  to  Calvary.     Simon  of  CjTcne        463 
 
 CHAPTER  VII. 
 
 THE     CRUCIFIXIO:^. 
 
 §  290.  Detafls  of  the  Crucifixion    ..        ..        464 
 
 §  291.  Christ  prays  for  his  Enemies.     The  two  Thieves        465 
 
 §  292.  Christ's  Exclamation,  Psalm  xxii.     His  last  Words 466 
 
 §  293.  Phenomena  accompanying  the  Death  of  Christ         467 
 
 CHAPTER  VIII. 
 
 THE     RESURRECTION'. 
 
 §  294.  Did  Christ  predict  his  Resurrection  ? 468 
 
 §  295.  Sudden  Transition  of  the  Apostles  from  Dejection  to  Joy.    Argxunent 
 
 from  this 470 
 
 §  296.  Was  the  Reappearance  of  Christ  a  Vision  ?       471 
 
 §  297-  Was  Christ's  a  real  Death  ? 472 
 
 §  298.  The  Resurrection  intended  only  for  Believers 475 
 
 §  299.  Tlie  Women,  Peter,  and  John  at  the  Grave 475 
 
 §  300.  Christ  appears  to  the  Women;  to  Mary;  to  the  two  Disciples  on  the 
 
 Way  to  Emmaus 476 
 
 §  301.  Chri.st  appears  to  Peter;  to  all  the  Aiwstles  except  Thomas 476 
 
 §  302.  Christ  appears  to  five  hundred  Believers;  to  James;  to  aU  the  Apostles. 
 
 Conversation  with  Thomas        . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .         . .  480 
 
 §  303.  Christ  appears  in  Galilee  to  the  Seven  on  Geuesareth         482 
 
 §304.  Christ  appears  in  Galilee  for  the  last  Time 483 
 
 §  305.  Christ  appears  for  the  last  Time  near  Jerusalem        484 
 
 CHAPTER  IX. 
 
 THE     ASCENSION'. 
 
 §  .306.  Connexion  of  the  Ascension  with  the  Resurrection 484 
 
 §  307.  The  Ascension  necessary  for  the  Conviction  of  the  Apostles        ..         . .  486 
 
 §  308.  Connexion  of  aU  the  supernatural  Facts  in  Clu-ist's  Manifestation         . .  487 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 THE  IDJLV  OF  THE  HISTORY  OF  CHKIST  IX  GENERAL. 
 §  1. — The  Indifference  of  Criticism  rejected. 
 
 It  lias  been  often  said  that,  in  order  to  time  inquiry,  we  must 
 take  nothing  for  granted.'^  Of  late  this  statement  has  been 
 reiterated  anew,  with  special  reference  to  the  exposition  of  the 
 Life  of  Christ.  At  the  outset  of  oui-  work  we  refuse  to  meet 
 such  a  demand.  To  comply  with  it  is  impracticable  ;  the  veiy 
 attempt  contradicts  the  sacred  laws  of  our  being.  We  cannot 
 entirely  free  oui'^elves  from  presuppositions,  which  are  bom 
 with  our  nature,  and  which  attach  to  the  fixed  course  of  pro- 
 gress in  which  we  ourselves  are  iiiTolved.  They  control  our 
 consciousness,  whether  we  will  or  no ;  and  the  supposed 
 freedom  from  them  is,  in  fact,  nothing  else  but  the  exchange 
 of  one  set  for  another.  Some  of  these  prepossessions,  springing 
 from  a  higher  necessity,  founded  in  the  moral  order  of  the 
 universe,  and  derived  fr-om  the  eternal  laws  ^  of  the  Creator, 
 constitute  the  very  ground  and  support  of  our  nature.  From 
 .such  we  must  not  fr'ee  oiu-selves. 
 
 But  we  are  ever  in  peril  of  exchanging  these  legitimate 
 sovereigns  of  our  spiiitual  being,  against  which  nothing  but 
 arbitrary  will  can  rebel,  for  the  prepossessions  of  a  self-created 
 or  traditional  prejudice,  which  have  no  other  than  an  ai-bitraiy 
 origin,  and  which  rule  by  no  better  title  than  usurpation.  But 
 for  this  peril,  the  way  of  the  science  of  life  would  be  as  safe  as 
 the  way  of  life  itself.  Life  moves  on  in  the  midst  of  such 
 diversified  and  ever-commingling  prepossessions,  especially  in 
 
 *  [Voraiissetmngslosiylieii  :  "freedom  from  presuppositions."] 
 *•  Of  which,  says  Sophocles,  beautifully, 
 
 liiv  oXvfiTrog 
 iraTTip  novcQ,  ovCi  vii'  Bpara 
 <pv<jig  avkpuiv  iTiK-iv,  ovce 
 ftdv  TTOTi  \a9a  KaraKoi/iaait 
 /iiyag  iv  ToiToic  ^ibg 
 ovSt  ytipaVKii. 
 
 B 
 
3  INTRODUCTION. 
 
 our  o^vn  time,  whicli,  torn  by  contrarieties  (contrarieties,  how- 
 ever, wMcli  subserve  a  higher  wisdom  by  balancing  each  other), 
 foiTHS  the  period  of  transition  to  a  new  and  better  creation. 
 On  the  one  hand  we  behold  efforts  to  biing  the  human  mind 
 again  into  bondage  to  the  host  of  arbitrary  prejudices  which 
 had  long  enough  enslaved  it ;  and,  on  the  other,  we  see  a  justi- 
 fiable protest  against  these  prejudices  running  into  the  extreme 
 of  rejecting  even  those  holy  prepossessions  which  ought  to  inile 
 our  spiritual  being,  and  which  alone  can  offer  it  true  fi-eedom. 
 What,  then,  is  the  duty  of  Science  ?  Must  she  dismiss  aU 
 prepossessions,  and  work  out  her  task  by  unassisted  thought  % 
 Far  from  it.  From  nothing  nothing  comes ;  the  Father  of 
 spirits  alone  is  a  Creator.  Empty  indeed  is  that  enthusiasm 
 which  seeks  only  the  mere  soimd  of  truth — abstract,  formal 
 truth.  <=  This  absolute  abnegation  of  all  prepossessions  would 
 free  the  soul  fi-om  those  holy  ties  by  which  alone  it  can  connect 
 itself  with  its  source — the  source  of  all  tmth — and  comprehend 
 it  by  means  of  its  revelations  in  humanity.  The  created  spirit 
 cannot  deny  its  dependence  upon  God,  the  only  creative 
 Spirit ;  and  it  is  its  obvious  destination  to  apprehend  the  reve- 
 lation of  God  in  creation,  in  natm-e,  and  in  history.  So,  the 
 work  of  science  can  only  be  to  distinguish  the  prepossessions 
 which  an  inward  necessity  constrains  us  to  I'ecognize,  from 
 such  as  are  purely  voluntary.  Indeed,  the  healthfulness  of  oiu- 
 spiritual  life  depends  upon  our  ridding  ourselves  of  the  latter, 
 and,  at  the  same  time,  )T.elding  in  lowliness  and  singleness  of 
 heart  to  the  former,  as  the  law  of  the  Creator,  as  the  means  by 
 which  light  fi-om  heaven  may  be  conveyed  to  our  minds.  All 
 that  the  intellect  has  to  do  in  regard  to  these  last,  is  to  demon- 
 strate theii*  necessity,  and  to  show  that  our  being  contradicts 
 itself  in  rebelling  against  them. 
 
 §  2. — The  Truth,  that  Christ  is  God-Man,  presuj>posed. 
 
 What,  then,  is  the  special  presupposition  with  wliich  we 
 must  approach  the  contemplation  of  the  Life  of  Christ  1  It  is 
 one  on  which  hangs  the  very  being  of  the  Christian  as  such ; 
 the  existence  of  the  Christian  Church,  and  the  natui*e  of 
 Christian  consciousness.  "^     It  is  one  at  whose  touch  of  power 
 
 "^  It  is  one  of  Pascal's  best  thoughts,  that  "On  se  fait  une  idole  do  la 
 verite  mfime  ;  car  la  vcritc  hors  de  la  charitc  n'est  pas  Dieu  ;  c'est  son 
 image,  et  une  idole,  qu'il  ne  faut  point  aimer,  ni  adorer,  et  encore  moins 
 £iut-il  aimer  ou  adorer  son  contrairc,  qui  est  le  mensonge." 
 
 ''  It  was  one   of  the   epoch-makmg  indications  of  ScHLEIEBMACHEll's 
 
INTRODUCTION.  3 
 
 the  dry  bones  of  the  old  world  sprimg  up  in  all  the  vigour  of  a 
 new  creation.  It  gave  bii-th  to  all  that  culture  (the  modem  as 
 distinguished  from  the  ancient)  from  which  the  Germanic 
 nations  received  their  pecuhar  intellectual  life,  and  from  wliich 
 the  emancipation  of  the  mind,  gro-vvn  too  strong  for  its  bonds, 
 was  developed  ia  the  Eeformatiou.  It  is  the  very  root  and 
 ground  of  our  modern  ciiolization  ;  and  the  lattei',  even  in  its 
 attempts  to  separate  from  this  root,  must  I'est  upon  it :  indeed, 
 should  such  attempts  succeed,  it  must  dissolve  into  its  original 
 elements,  and  assume  an  entirely  new  form.  It  is,  ia  a  word, 
 the  beUef  that  Jesus  Christ  is  the  Son  of  God  in  a  s&nse  which 
 cannot  he  predicated  of  any  human  being, — the  perfect  image  of 
 the  personal  God  in  the  form  of  that  humanity  that  was 
 estranged  fi-om  him  ;  that  in.  him  the  source  of  the  Divine  life 
 itself  in  humanity  appeared;  that  by  him  the  idea  of  hiimanity 
 was  realized, 
 
 §  3. — This  presupposed  Truth  and  tlte  Historical  Accounts  mutually  conirm 
 and  illustrate  each  other. 
 
 But  as  man's  higher  nature  can  only  reach  its  true  destiuy 
 in  Christian  consciousness,  from  which  the  great  First  Tiiith 
 just  mentioned  is  insepai'able,  it  is  necessary  that  this  fii'st 
 
 influence  upon  theology  that  he  succeeded  in  stamping  this  phrase  (Chris- 
 tian consciousness)  as  current,  with  the  meaning  that  he  assigned  to  it,  in 
 an  age  which  (although  some  men,  blind  to  the  ^lesson  of  history,  look 
 back  upon  it  longingly  as  the  golden  age  of  our  nation)  was  guided  only 
 by  the  naked  understanding,  and  destitute  at  once  of  faith  and  of  true 
 historical  insight.  He  used  it  to  denote  Christianity  as  an  undeniable, 
 self-revealing  power,  entering  into  the  life  of  humanity ;  an  immediate, 
 internal  power  in  the  spiritual  world,  from  which  went  forth,  and  is  ever 
 going  forth,  the  regeneration  of  the  life  of  man,  and  which  produces  pheno- 
 mena wliich  can  be  explained  in  no  other  way.  This  phrase,  and  the 
 thouglit  which  it  expresses,  are  able  to  maintain  their  ground  against  that 
 formalism  of  thought  which  is  so  hostile  to  every  thing  immediate,  and 
 wishes  to  substitute  empty  abstractions  for  the  living  powers  that  move 
 the  human  race,  as  well  as  .against  that  low  and  mean  view  of  the  world 
 (impertinently  obtrusive  as  it  has  been  of  late)  which  owns  no  power  above 
 those  which  buUd  railways  and  set  steam-engines  a-going.  As  the  intuitive 
 consciousness  of  God  indicates  to  the  himian  mind  the  existence,  the  ouuii- 
 present  power,  and  the  self  revelation  of  a  personal  Deity,  so  does  this 
 "Christian  consciousness"  testify  that  Christ  lived,  and  that  he  continues, 
 by  his  Spirit,  to  operate  upon  mankind.  The  works  of  creation  only 
 reveal  God  to  him  who  already  has  a  consciousness  of  the  Divine  existence  ; 
 for  he  who  has  not  God  within  can  find  him  nowhere.  So  it  is  only  he 
 who  has  a  "Christian  consciousness"  that  can  recognize  Chkist  in  the 
 fragments  of  tradition  and  the  manifestations  of  history,  or  that  can  com- 
 prehend the  history  of  CHRIST  and  his  Church. 
 
 b2 
 
4  INTRODUCTION. 
 
 truth  slioixld  be  shown  to  be  essential  also  to  the  general  con- 
 scioiisness  of  man.  That  it  is  so  can  be  proved  from  its 
 harmony  with,  the  miiversal  and  essential  prepossessions  of 
 human  nature  ;  but  the  exhibition  of  tliis  proof  belongs  more 
 properly  to  tlie  department  of  Apologetics.  It  is  shown  to  be 
 a  necessary  and  not  a  voluntary  prepossession ;  fii'st,  because 
 it  satisfies  a  fundamental  want  of  human  nature,  a  want 
 created  by  history,  and  foreshadowing  its  own  fulfilment ;  and, 
 secondly,  because  this  view  of  Cluist's  person  arose  from  the 
 direct  impression  which  his  appearance  among  men  made  upon 
 the  eye-witnesses,  and,  through  them,  upon  the  whole  himian 
 race.  This  image  of  Clu-ist,  which  has  always  propagated  itself 
 in  the  consciousness  of  the  Chi'istian  Church,  originated  in, 
 and  ever  points  back  to,  the  revelation  of  Christ  himself, 
 without  which,  indeed,  it  could  never  have  arisen.  As  man's 
 limited  intellect  could  never,  -wdthout  the  aid  of  revelation, 
 have  originated  the  idea  of  God,  so  the  image  of  Christ,  of 
 which  we  have  spoken,  could  never  have  sprung  from  the  con- 
 sciousness of  sinfid  humanity,  but  'must  be  regarded  as  the 
 reflection  of  the  actual  life  of  such  a  Christ.  It  is  Christ's 
 self-revelation,  made,  thi-ough  all  generations,  in  the  fragments 
 of  his  history  that  remain,  and  in  the  workings  of  his  Spirit 
 which  inspires  these  fragments,  and  enables  us  to  recognize  in 
 them  one  complete  whole.  ^     It  is  a  stream  of  the  Divine  life 
 
 *  Stracss,  in  his  "Leben  Jesu"  (part  ii.  p.  719),  hag  drawn  a  just 
 distinction  between  the  abstract  idea  of  human  perfection  which  is  involved 
 in  our  consciousness  of  sinfulnesss,  and  seems  inseparable  from  our  natural 
 tendency  to  the  idea  of  God,  and  the  "  actual  (concrete)  working  out  of  the 
 picture,  with  the  traits  of  individual  reality."  In  relation  to  this  last  he 
 says,  "Such  a  faultless  picture  could  not  be  exhibited  by  a  sinful  man  in 
 a  sinfiil  age;  but,"  adds  he,  "such  an  age,  itself  not  free  from  these 
 defects,  would  not  be  conscious  of  them  ;  and  if  the  picture  is  only  sh.tchcd, 
 and  stands  in  need  of  much  illustration,  it  may,  even  in  a  later  and  more 
 clear-sighted  age,  willing  to  afford  favourable  illustrations,  be  regarded  as 
 iaultless."  In  opposition  to  this,  we  have  to  say  that  the  picture  of  the 
 Life  of  Christ  which  has  been  handed  down  to  us  does  not  exhibit  the  sjiirit  of 
 that  age,  but  a  far  higher  Spirit,  which,  manifesting  itself  in  the  lineaments 
 of  the  picture,  exerted  a  regenerating  influence  not  only  in  that  age,  but  on 
 all  succeeding  generations.  The  image  of  human  perfection,  concretely  pre- 
 sented in  the  Life  of  Christ,  stands  in  manifold  contradiction  to  the  tenden- 
 cies of  humanity  in  that  period  ;  no  one  of  them,  no  combination  of  them, 
 dead,  as  they  were,  could  account  for  it.  Whence,  then,  in  that  impure  age, 
 came  such  a  picture  (a  picture  which  the  age  itself  could  not  completely 
 understand,  of  which  the  age  could  only  now  and  then  seize  a  congenial 
 trait  to  make  a  caricature  of),  the  contemplating  of  which  raised  the  human 
 race  of  that  and  following  ages  to  a  new  development  of  spiritual  life  ? 
 The  study  of  this  picture  has  given  a  new  view  of  the  destiny  of  humanity  ; 
 
INTRODUCTION.  0 
 
 which  has  spread  abroad  through  all  ages  since  the  establish- 
 ment of  the  Christian  Church.  And  the  peculiar  mark  of  this 
 Divine  Life  is  precisely  tliis,  that  it  is  grounded  in  a  conscious- 
 ness of  absolute  dependence  upon  Christ ;  that  it  is  notliing 
 else  but  a  constant  rene^ving  after  the  image  of  Christ.  But 
 as  we  often  find  this  stream  darkened  and  troubled,  we  are 
 necessarily  led  back  to  Him,  the  well-spring  from  whom  the 
 full-flowing  foimtain  of  Di\'ine  Life  gushes  forth  in  all  its 
 purity  ;  the  Son  of  God,  and  the  Redeemer  of  men.  He  who 
 could  Avith  Divine  confidence  present  himself  as  such  to  man- 
 kind, and  call  all  men  to  come  unto  him  to  satisfy  the  cravings 
 of  their  higher  nature,  must  have  had  within  himself  the 
 authority  of  an  infallible  consciousness. 
 
 Now  if  we  can  show  that  the  Life  of  Christ,  without  the  aid 
 of  the  First  Truth  which  forms  the  ground  of  our  conception 
 of  it,  must  be  unintelligible,  whUe,  on  the  contrary,  with  its 
 assistance,  we  can  frame  the  Life  into  a  harmonious  whole, 
 then  its  claims  will  be  established  even  in  the  exposition  of 
 the  Life  itself.  ^  Nay,  the  idea  of  Christ  which  has  come  down 
 to  us  through  Christian  consciousness  (the  chief  element  of 
 which  is  the  impress  which  He  himself  left  upon  the  souls  of 
 the  Apostles)  will,  by  comparison  with  the  living  manifestation 
 (i.  e.,  of  Chi-ist  in  his  life),  be  more  and  more  distinctly  defined 
 and  developed  in  its  separate  features,  and  more  and  more 
 freed  from  foreign  elements. 
 
 So  it  is  in  considering  the  life  of  any  man  who  has  materially 
 and  beneficially  afiected  the  progress  of  the  race,  especially  if 
 the  results  of  his  labours  have  touched  upon  our  own  interests. 
 We  forui  in  advance  some  idea  of  such  a  man,  and  are  not 
 
 a  new  conception  of  what  the  ideal  of  human  virtue  should  be,  and  a  new- 
 theory  of  morals  :  all  which  vanish,  however,  when  we  withdraw  our  gaze 
 from  its  lineaments.  The  spirit  of  ethics,  wliich  had  taken  to  itself  only 
 certain  features  of  the  picture  broken  from  their  connection  with  the 
 whole,  and  was  corrupted  by  foreign  elements  that  had  bound  themselves 
 up  with  the  Christian  consciousness,  was  purified  again  in  contemplating 
 the  unmutilated  historical  Prototype  in  the  days  of  the  Reformation. 
 Aud  whenever  the  spirit  of  the  age  cuts  itself  loose,  either  in  the  popular 
 turn  of  thought  or  in  the  schools  of  philosophy,  from  this  historical  rela- 
 tion, it  estranges  itself  also  from  the  ethics  of  Christianity,  and  sets  up  a 
 new  and  difierent  ideal  of  perfection  from  that  which  the  revelation  of 
 Christ  has  grounded  in  the  consciousness  of  man. 
 
 So  much  for  what  Strauss,  1.  c,  and  Baur  (Gnosis,  p.  655)  have  said 
 against  Sckleiermacker. 
 
 '  Tag  viroQ'tatiq  noiovfitvog  oiiK  apxag,  nWa  Ttji  ovTi  viroBsaiiQ,  olov 
 iTn€a<T(ig  te  kui  bpfiac,  as  Plato  says,  in  a  different  connection,  at  the  end 
 of  the  sixth  book  of  the  Republic. 
 
^6  INTEODUCnON. 
 
 disposed,  from  any  doubtful  acts  of  liis  tliat  may  be  laid  before 
 us,  to  cliange  our  preconceived  notion  for  an  opposite  one. 
 But  while  this  preconceived  idea  may  be  our  guide  in  studying 
 the  life  of  such  a  man,  the  study  itself  \nll  contribute  to 
 enlarge  and  rectify  the  indiAidual  lineaments  of  the  picture. 
 
 But  we  must  not  lose  sight  of  one  important  difference.  In 
 all  other  men  there  is  a  contrast  between  the  ideal  and  the 
 phenomenal.  WhUe  in  many  of  their*  traits  we  may  discern 
 the  Divine  principle  which  forms  theii'  individuality,  the  arche- 
 type of  theii"  manifestation  in  time,  in  others  we  see  opposing 
 •  elements,  which  go  to  make  a  mere  caricature  of  that  i^iinciple. 
 We  can  obtain  no  clear  Aiew  of  the  aim  of  the  life  of  such 
 men,  unless  we  can  seize  upon  the  higher  element  wliich  forms 
 the  individual  character;  just  as  an  artist  might  depict  accu- 
 rately a  man's  organic  featui-es,  and,  for  want  of  the  peculiar 
 intellectual  expression,  fail  completely  in  gi^ang  the  entire 
 living  physiognomy.  But  wdthout  a  conception  of  the  living 
 whole  we  coidd  not  detect  the  separate  featui-es  which  mar  the 
 harmony  of  the  pictm'e.  On  the  other  side,  again,  it'  we  con- 
 template the  whole  apart  from  the  individual  features,  we  shall 
 only  form  an  arbitrary  ideal,  not  at  all  corresponding  to  the 
 reality. 
 
 In  Christ,  however,  the  ideal  and  the  phenomenal  never 
 contradict  each  othei*.  All  dejiends  upon  our  viewing  rightly 
 together  the  separate  feattu'es  in  their  connexion  witli  the 
 higher  unity  of  the  whole.  We  presuppose  this  vdew  of  the 
 whole,  in  order  to  a  just  conception  of  tlie  parts,  and  to  avoid 
 regarding  any  necessary  featui'c  in  the  light  of  a  caricatiu'c. 
 This  can  the  more  easily  be  done,  as  the  phenomena  which  we 
 are  hei-e  to  contemplate  stand  alone,  and  can  be  compai-ed  with 
 no  other.  And  as,  even  in  studying  the  life  of  an  eminent 
 man,  we  must  commune  with  his  spii'it  in  order  to  obtain  a 
 complete  view  of  his  being,  so  we  must  yield  ourselves  up  to 
 the  Spirit  of  Christ,  whom  we  acknowledge  and  adore  as 
 exalted  above  us,  that  He  himself  may  show  us  his  Divine 
 image  in  the  mii-ror  of  his  Life,  and  teach  us  how  to  distin- 
 gTiish  all  prejudices  of  our  own  creating  from  the  necessary 
 laws  of  cm-  bein^r. 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 SOURCES  FOR  THE  HISTORY  OF  CHRIST. 
 §  4. — Traditional  Ongin  of  the  Sytioptical  Gospels. 
 
 In  using  the  authorities,  I  shall  foUow  the  general  niles  ot 
 historical  criticism,  and  seek  the  trath  by  compaiing  the 
 individual  accounts  with  themselves  and  with  each  other.  A 
 correct  judgment  of  the  nature  of  the  authoiities  may  be 
 derived  from  thus  examining  them  in  detail. 
 
 The  settled  result  of  my  investigations  on  tliis  subject  may 
 be  stated  as  follows:  The  historical  remains,  as  well  as  the 
 natui-e  of  the  case,  show  that  the  -wTdting  of  the  Gospel  history- 
 did  not  originate  in  any  design  to  give  a  connected  account  of 
 the  life  and  public  ministry  of  Christ  as  a  whole,  but  rather 
 gi-ew  out  of  a  series  of  traditional  accounts  of  separate  scenes 
 in  his  historv".  These  accounts  were  partly  transmitted  by 
 word  of  mouth,  and  partly  laid  down  in  Avi-itten  memoirs. 
 The  commission  of  the  whole  to  writing  naturally  soon  followed 
 the  spread  of  Christianity  among  the  Greeks,  a  people  much 
 accustomed  to  writing.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Paul 
 made  use  of  Avritten  memoirs  of  the  life  of  Cln-ist.s  The 
 objections  of  Weisse  against  this  ^dew  are  of  no  importance. 
 Our  first  three  Gospels  resulted  from  the  compilation  of  such 
 separate  materials,  as  Luke  himself  states  in  his  introduction.'* 
 Matthew's  Gospel,  in  its  present  form,  was  not  the  production 
 of  the  apostle  whose  name  it  beai-s,  but  was  founded  on  an 
 account  wi-itten  by  him  in  the  Hebrew  language,  chiefly  (but 
 not  wholly)  for  the  purpose  of  presenting  the  discom'ses  of 
 Christ  in  a  collective  form. 
 
 §  5. — Genwineness  of  John's  Gospel. 
 Jolm's  Gospel,  which  contains  the  only  consecutive  account 
 of  the  labours  of  Christ,  arose  in  a  very  difierent  way.  It 
 could  have  emanated  from  none  other  than  that  "  beloved  dis- 
 ciple" upon  whose  soid  the  image  of  the  Saviour  had  left  its 
 deepest  impress.  So  far  fi-om  this  Gospel's  having  been 
 AVTitten  by  a  man  of  the  second  centuiy  (as  some  assert),  we 
 cannot  even  imagine  a  man  existing  in  that  centurv'  so  little 
 affected  by  the  contrarieties  of  his  times  and  so  far  exalted 
 above  them.  Could  an  age  involved  in  perpetiial  contradictions, 
 an  age  of  religious  materiaUsm,  anthropomorphism,  and  one- 
 
 B  See  my  Apostol.  Gcschichte,  3rd  edit.  p.  131.  '^  Lake  i.  1,  2. 
 
8  INTRODUCTION. 
 
 skied  intellpctualism,  have  given  birth  to  a  production  like 
 this,  which  bears  the  stamp  of  none  of  these  deformities? 
 How  mighty  must  the  man  have  been  who,  in  that  age,  could 
 produce  from  his  own  mind  such  an  image  of  Christ  as  tliis  ? 
 And  this  man,  too,  in  a  period  almost  destitute  of  eminent 
 minds,  remained  in  total  obscurity  !  Was  it  necessary  for  the 
 master-spirit,  who  felt  in  himself  the  capacity  and  the  calling 
 to  accomplish  the  greatest  achievement  of  his  day,  to  resort  to 
 a  pitifid  trick  to  smuggle  his  ideas  into  circulation  1 
 
 And  then,  too,  while  it  is  thought  sufficient  to  say  of  the 
 three  other  Gospels  that  they  were  compiled  from  undesigned 
 fables,  we  are  told  that  such  a  Gospel  as  tliis  of  John  Avas  the 
 work  of  sheer  invention,  as  lately  Dr.  Baur  has  confessed,  with. 
 praiseworthy  candoui'.  Strange  that  a  man,  anxious  for  the 
 credit  of  his  inventions,  should,  in  the  chronology  and  topo- 
 gi'aphy  of  his  Life  of  Christ,  give  the  he  to  the  Church  tradi- 
 tions of  his  time,  instead  of  chiming  in  with  them ;  stranger 
 still,  that  in  spite  of  his  bold  contradiction  of  the  opinions  of 
 his  age  in  regard  to  the  history,  his  fraud  should  be  successful ! 
 In  short,  the  more  openly  this  ciiticism  declares  itself  against 
 the  Gospel  of  John,  the  more  palpably  does  it  manifest  its  own 
 ■wilful  disregard  of  history. 
 
 §  S.—Re-fults  of  Criticism. 
 
 A  comparison  of  the  representation  of  Christ  derived  from 
 the  traditions  of  the  Apostolic  Church,  with  tliat  which  the 
 direct  and  personal  knowledge  of  the  beloved  disciple  affords 
 to  us,  mil  not  only  aid  our  general  conception  of  his  image  as 
 a  whole,  but  will  also  prove  the  identity  of  these  two  rej^resen- 
 tations  with  each  other,  from  their  agreement  as  well  in  the 
 separate  features  as  in  the  general  picture. 
 
 It  must  be  regarded  as  one  of  the  greatest  boons  which  the 
 purifying  process  of  Protestant  theology  in  Germany  has  con- 
 ferred upon  faith  as  well  as  science,  that  the  old,  mechanical 
 A-iew  of  Inspiration  has  been  so  generally  abandoned.  That 
 doctrine,  and  the  forced  harmonies  to  which  it  led,  demanded 
 a  cierk-Uke  accuracy  in  the  evangelical  accounts,  and  could  not 
 admit  even  the  sUghtest  contradictions  in  them ;  but  we  are  now 
 no  more  compelled  to  have  recourse  to  subtUties  against  which 
 our  sense  of  truth  rebels.  In  studying  the  liistorical  connexion 
 of  our  Saviour's  life  and  actions  by  the  ai)plication  of  an  un- 
 fettered criticism,  we  reach  a  deeper  sense  in  many  of  liis  .say- 
 ings than  the  bonds  of  the  old  dogmatism  would  have  allowed. 
 
INTRODUCTION.  9 
 
 The  inquiring  reason  need  no  longer  find  its  free  sense  of  truth 
 opposed  to  faith ;  nor  is  reason  bound  to  subjugate  herself,  not 
 to  faith,  but  to  arbitrary  dogmas  and  artificial  hypotheses.  The 
 chasms  in  the  Gospel  history  were  unavoidable  in  the  trans- 
 mission of  Divine  truth  tlu'ough  such  lowly  human  means.  Tlie 
 precious  treasure  has  come  to  us  in  earthen  vessels.  But  this 
 only  affords  room  for  the  exercise  of  our  faith — a  faith  whose 
 root  is  to  be  found,  not  in  science,  not  in  demonstration,  but 
 in  the  humble  and  self-denying  submission  of  our  spii'its.  Oui' 
 scientific  \iews  may  be  defective  in  many  points;  oiu-  know- 
 ledge itself  may  be  but  fragmentary ;  but  our  religious  interests 
 will  find  all  that  is  necessaiy  to  attach  them  to  Christ  as  the 
 ground  of  salvation  and  the  archetype  of  holiness. 
 
BOOK  I. 
 
 THE  BIRTH  AND  CHILDHOOD  OF  JESUS/ 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 PRELIMINAKY  REMARKS. 
 
 §  7. — Scantiness  of  our  Information  in  regard  to  this  Period  of  Christ's  Life. 
 — Nothing  further  really  csseiitial  to  the  Interests  of  Religion. 
 
 In  writing  the  life  of  any  eminent  man,  we  sliovild  not  be 
 likely  to  begin  with  a  period  when  his  character  was  fully  de- 
 veloped and  his  world-historical  importance  recognized.  On 
 the  contrary,  we  should  study  the  grmoth  of  his  being — seek 
 for  the  bud  which  concealed  the  seed,  and  the  powers  that 
 conspired  to  unfold  it. 
 
 We  cannot  fail  to  have  the  same  desire  in  studying  that 
 Life  wliich  far  transcends  every  other,  both  in  its  own  intiinsic 
 excellence  and  in  its  bearing  upon  the  historj^  of  the  human 
 race ;  but  we  are  kept  within  veiy  narrow  limits  on  tliis  point 
 by  the  paucity  of  our  materials,  consisting,  as  they  do,  of  frag- 
 mentary accounts,  whose  literal  accuracy  we  have  no  light  to 
 presuppose.  To  exhibit  these  featiu-es  in  the  life  of  Clirist  did 
 not  belong  to  the  Apostolic  mission,  which  was  designed  to 
 meet  religious  rather  than  scientific  wants ;  to  relate  the 
 mighty  acts  of  Christ,  from  the  beginning  of  his  ministry  to 
 the  time  of  his  ascension,  rather  than  to  show  how,  and  under 
 what  conditions,  his  inner  natm-e  gradually  manifested  itself. 
 It  belongs  to  science  to  give  a  pragmatico-genetical  develop- 
 ment of  the  history;  religious  faith  occupies  itself  only  with 
 the  immediate  facts  themselves.  We  cannot  expect  this  part 
 of  the  history  to  give  so  accurate  a  detail  as  that  which  treats 
 of  Christ's  public  ministry  and  his  redemptive  acts;  nor  do 
 the  wants  of  faith  reauii-e  it. 
 
 §  8. — Fwndanientally  opposite  Modes  of  apprehending  the  Accounts. 
 The  problems  offered  to  scientific  inquiry  at  this  point  are, 
 first,  to  distinguish  the  objective  reality  of  the  events  from  the 
 
 '  I  do  not  enter  into  tlie  minute  researches  which  are  necessary  to  fix 
 tlie  exact  date  of  Christ's  birth. 
 
12  OPPOSING  VIEWS  OF  THE  NARRATIVE. 
 
 stibjective  form  in  which  they  are  apprehended  in  the  ac- 
 counts; and,  secondly,  to  fill  np,  as  far  as  may  be,  the  chasms 
 which  necessarily  arise  in  the  liistory  from  its  being  composed 
 of  detached  narratives.  These  problems  nearly  involve  each 
 other;  for  we  must  obtain  a  clear  view  of  the  events  them- 
 seh'es,  before  we  can  solve  the  difficulties  that  arise  in  con- 
 necting them  together.  Of  these,  various  views  may  be  taken, 
 different  in  themselves,  yet  each  in  harmony  with  the  interests 
 of  religion. 
 
 But  this  cannot  be  said  of  all  the  different  views  which  may 
 be  taken  of  the  subject.  The  attempt  might  be  made,  for  in- 
 stance, to  explain  the  life  of  Christ  just  as  that  of  any  eminent 
 man,  on  the  natm-al  principles  of  human  development;  reject- 
 ing, of  course,  the  first  truth  of  Christian  belief  in  Christ  as 
 the  Son  of  Gon  and  our  Saviour.  This  theory,  denying  the 
 supernatural  element  of  Christianity,  necessarily  leads  its  ad- 
 vocates to  consider  everything  in  the  Gospel  accounts  which 
 contradicts  it  as  simply  mythical.  Thus,  even  in  what  may  be 
 called  the  ante-historical  part  of  our  work,  we  find  arrayed 
 against  us  those  \dews  which  always  reject  the  supematm-al  in 
 the  events  of  the  life  of  Chi-ist ;  although  tliis  is  a  dispute 
 wliich  cannot  be  settled  empirically  by  inquiries  into  the  sepa- 
 rate accounts;  for  this  very  distinction  of  historical  and  non- 
 historical  presupposes  a  final  decision  between  these  opposing 
 views  made  elsewhere.  Thus,  the  Deistic  and  Pantheistic 
 theories,  wliich,  although  they  aiise  from  directly  opposite 
 modes  of  thought,  agree  perfectly  in  opposing  supernatural  ism, 
 must  deny,  in  the  outset,  what  the  supematural-theistic  views 
 hold  to  be  essential  to  the  idea  of  a  genuine  world-redeeming 
 Christ. 
 
 We  must,  then,  in  order  to  bring  the  indi\'idual  featm-es 
 into  harmony  with  our  portraiture  of  Chiist,  form  the  latter 
 definitely  from  a  view  of  his  whole  life,  and  of  the  organism  of 
 that  Christian  consciousness  which  grows  out  of  his  impress 
 left  upon  humanity,  and  manifests  liis  perpetual  revelation. 
 In  relation  to  the  individual  features  of  the  history,  it  only 
 remains  to  prove,  by  naked  historical  inquiiy,  that  there  is  no 
 sufficient  ground,  apart  from  the  general  ])rcjudices  of  ration- 
 alism, to  deny  their  historical  basis ;  and  to  show  that  the 
 origin  of  the  accounts  themselves  cannot  be  explained  without 
 the  actual  occurrence  of  the  events  which  they  describe  on  the 
 very  ground  where  they  arose. 
 
THE  MIRACULOUS  CONCEPTION.  13 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 THE  MIRACULOUS  CONCEPTION. 
 
 §  9. — Tlie  Miraculous  Conception  demanded  \  priori,  and  confirmed 
 k  posteriori. 
 
 If,  then,  we  conceive  the  manifestation  of  Christ  to  have 
 been  a  supernatural  communication  of  the  Di\Tne  nature  for  the 
 moral  renewal  of  man,  a  new  beginning  in  the  chain  of  liuman 
 progress  ;  in  one  word,  if  we  conceive  it  as  a  miracle,  this 
 conception  itself,  apart  from  any  historical  accounts,  would 
 lead  us  to  form  some  notion  of  the  beginning  of  his  human  life 
 that  would  harmonize  with  it. 
 
 It  is  true,  this  human  life  of  Christ  took  its  appointed  place 
 in  the  course  of  liistorical  events — nay,  all  histoiy  was  arranged 
 with  reference  to  its  incorporation  ;  yet  it  entered  into  history, 
 not  as  part  of  its  offspring,  but  as  a  higher  element.  What- 
 ever has  its  origin  in  the  natural  course  of  hxmianity  must  bear 
 the  stamp  of  hmnanity ;  must  shai'e  in  the  sinfiilness  wliich 
 stains  it,  and  take  part  in  the  strifes  which  disti'act  it.  It  Avas 
 impossible,  therefore,  that  the  second  Adam,  the  Divine  pro- 
 genitor of  a  new  and  heavenly  race,  conld  derive  liis  origin 
 from  the  first  Adam  in  tlie  ordinaiy  course  of  nature,  or  could 
 represent  the  tjrpe  of  the  species,  the  people,  or  the  family  from 
 wliich  he  sprung,  as  do  the  common  children  of  men.  We 
 must  conceive  him,  not  as  a  individual  representative  of  the 
 type  which  descended  from  our  first  parents,  but  as  the  crea- 
 tive origin  of  a  new  type.  And  so  oiu:  own  idea  of  Chi-ist 
 compels  us  to  admit  that  two  factors,  the  one  natm-al,  the 
 other  supematui-al,  were  coefficient  in  his  entrance  into  human 
 life  ;  and  this,  too,  although  we  may  be  unable,  a  2>^'i<»'i,  to 
 state  how  that  entrance  was  accomplished. 
 
 But  at  this  point  the  historical  accounts  come  to  our  aid,  by 
 testifying  that  what  our  theory  of  the  case  requires  did,  in 
 fact,  occur.  The  essential  part  of  the  history  is  found  precisely 
 in  those  features  in  which  the  idea  and  the  reality  harmonize  ; 
 and  we  must  not  only  hold  fast  these  essential  facts  wliich  are 
 so  important  to  the  interests  of  religion,  but  carefully  distin- 
 guish them  from  -unimportant  and  accidental  parts,  wluch 
 might,  perhaps,  be  involved  in  obscurity  or  contradiction. 
 
 §  10. — Mythical  View  of  the  Miracidous  Conception. — No  Trace  of  it  in  the 
 Narrative. — No  such  Mythus  could  have  originated  among  the  Jews. 
 
 The  accounts  of  Matthew  and  Luke  agree  in  stating  that  the 
 
14  THE  ItflEACTTLOUS  CONCEPTIOK. 
 
 birtli  of  Clirist  was  the  resiilt  of  a  dii-ect  creative  act  of  God, 
 and  not  of  the  ordinary  laws  of  human  generation.  They  who 
 deny  this  must  make  one  of  two  assumptions  ;  either  that  all 
 the  accounts  are  absolute  fables,  or  that  some  actual  fact  was 
 the  gi'ound-work  of  the  fabiJous  conception. 
 
 Those  who  adopt  the  former  view  tell  iis  that,  after  Christ . 
 had  made  himself  conspicuous  by  his  gi'sat  acts,  men,  struck 
 with  his  extraordinary  character,  formed  a  theory  of  his  birth 
 to  coiTespond  with  it.  But  this  assumption  is  utterly  irrecon- 
 cileable  -with  the  simple  and  prosaic  style  in  which  Matthew 
 tells  the  story  of  Joseph's  pei-plexity  at  finding  Mary  pregnant 
 before  her  time  ;J  and  the  supposition  that  this  prosaic  narra- 
 tive was  the  offspring  of  some  previous  mythical  description,  is 
 out  of  all  harmony  with  the  character  of  the  primitive  Christian 
 times.  As  for  the  second  assimaption,  those  who  adopt  it  can 
 assign  no  possible  fact  to  explain  the  origin  of  the  account,  but 
 one  of  so  base  a  nature  as  utterly  to  shock  every  religious 
 feeling,  and  every  just  notion  of  the  overruling  Providence  of 
 God.  Had  such  an  occurrence  ever  been  deemed  possible,  the 
 fanatical  enemies  of  Christ  woidd  very  soon  have  made  use  of 
 it.^  Both  these  assumptions  failing,  nothing  remains  but  to 
 admit  that  the  birth  of  Christ  was  a  phenomenon  out  of  the 
 ordinary  course  of  nature.^ 
 
 Nor  would  such  a  mythus  have  been  consistent  with  Jewish 
 modes  of  thought.     The  Hindoo  mind  might  have  originated 
 
 J  We  cannot  believe,  notwithstanding  what  Strauss  says  on  this  point 
 in  his  3rd  edition,  that  a  fable  could  originally  be  presented  in  so  prosaic  a 
 {pxh  as  that  of  Matthew.  Cases  are  not  wanting,  however,  in  which  the 
 substance  of  a  mythus,  after  it  had  come  to  be  received  as  liistory,  has 
 been  given  out  in  a  prosaic  form. 
 
 ''  Tliey  would  have  done  so  before  Jewish  malevolence  employed  the 
 history  of  the  miraculous  conception  to  invent  the  fable  which  Celsus  first 
 made  use  of. — Orig.  i.  32.  Had  any  such  legends  been  in  circulation 
 before,  we  should  find  some  trace  of  them  in  the  Evangelists,  who  do  not 
 conceal  the  accusations  that  were  made  against  Christ. 
 
 '  Schldermacher,  whose  reverence  for  sacred  things  forbade  him  to  adopt 
 the  latter  of  these  two  suppositions,  while  his  conscientious  love  of  truth 
 compelled  him  to  admit  the  reality  of  the  history,  says,  in  comparing  the 
 statements  of  Matthew  and  Luke  {Critical  Inquiries,  p.  47),  "We  may 
 well  leave  the  statement  of  Matthew  in  the  judicious  indefiniteness  in 
 which  it  is  expressed  ;  while  the  traditional  basis  of  the  poetical  announce- 
 ment in  Luke  rebukes  those  impious  explanations  which  soil  the  veil  they 
 cannot  lift."  But,  in  sober  truth,  no  one  can  admit  the  veracity  of  the 
 history,  and,  at  the  same  time,  deny  the  miraculous  conception,  without 
 fiiUing  into  the  very  conclusion  which  Schleiermacher  rejects  with  such 
 pious  indignation. 
 
THE  MIKACULOUS  CONCEPTION.  15 
 
 a  fable  of  this  character,  though  in  a  different  form  from  that 
 in  -which  the  account  of  the  Evangelists  is  given  ;  but  the 
 Jewish  had  totally  different  tendencies.  Such  a  fable  as  the 
 birth  of  the  IMessiah  from  a  virgin  could  have  arisen  any  where 
 else  easier  than  among  the  Jews ;  their  docti'ine  of  the  Divine 
 Unity,  wliich  placed  an  impassable  gulf  between  God  and  the 
 world  ;  then-  high  regard  for  the  marriage  relation,  which  led 
 them  to  abhor  unwedded  life  ;  and,  above  all,  theu*  full  persua- 
 sion that  the  Messiah  was  to  be  an  ordinary  man,  undis- 
 tinguished by  any  tiling  supernatural,  and  not  to  be  endowed 
 with  Divine  power  before  the  time  of  his  solemn  consecration 
 to  the  Messiahship,  all  conspired  to  render  such  an  invention 
 impossible  among  them.  The  accounts  of  Isaac,  Samson,  and 
 Samuel  cannot  be  quoted  as  in  point ;  these  cases  rather  illus- 
 trate the  Hebrew  notion  of  the  blessing  of  fruitfulness ;  and 
 in  them  all  the  Divine  power  was  shown,  not  in  excluding 
 the  male,  but  in  rendering  the  long-barren  female  fruitfixl, 
 contrary  to  all  human  expectation.  The  conception  of  Christ 
 would  have  been  analogous  to  these,  had  Mary,  after  long 
 ban-enness,  borne  a  son,  or  had  Joseph  been  too  old  to  expect 
 offspring  at  the  time."^ 
 
 It  was  on  this  very  account,  viz.,  because  the  miraculous 
 conception  was  foreign  to  the  prevailing  Jewish  modes  of 
 thought,'!  -tiiat  Qj^Q  ggct  of  i\^q  Ebionites,  who  could  not  free 
 
 ^  E.  ff.  in  the  apocryphal  Gospel  of  James,  ch.  ix.  it  is  stated,  that 
 when  the  priest  was  about  to  give  Mary  as  a  wife  to  the  aged  Joseph,  the 
 latter  said,  "  I  have  sons  and  am  old,  while  she  is  yet  young ;  shall  I  not 
 then  become  a  mockery  for  the  sons  of  Israel  ?" 
 
 °  Professor  Weisse,  in  his  work,  "Die  Evangelische  Greschichte  "  (The 
 Gospel  History,  critically  and  philosophically  treated,  Leips.  1838),  admits 
 that  the  Jews  could  not  have  invented  this  myihus,  but  ascribes  to  it  a 
 heathen  origin.  How,  in  view  of  the  relations  that  subsisted  between 
 early  Christianity  and  heathenism,  the  pagan  myihus  of  the  sons  of  the 
 gods  could  so  soon  have  been  transformed  into  a  Christian  one  ;  and  how 
 the  latter  could  have  found  its  way  into  St.  Matthew's  Gospel,  which  im- 
 questionably  had  a  Jewish-Christian  origin,  are  among  the  incomprehen- 
 sibilities which  abound  in  Prof.  W.'s  very  intelligible  work.  He  says, 
 p.  178,  that  "as  Paid  found  himself  involuntarily  compelled,  in  addressing 
 the  Athenians,  to  quote  Greek  poetry  {For  we  are  also  his  offspriny. 
 Acts  xvii.  28),  so  it  is  possible  that  the  apostles  to  the  heathen  were  led 
 to  adopt  the  pagan  my  thus  of  the  sons  of  the  gods,  in  order  to  make  known 
 to  them  the  truth,  that  Christ  is  the  son  of  God,  in  a  form  suited  to  their 
 way  of  thinking,  and  that  their  figurative  language,  literally  understood, 
 formed  the  starting-point  for  such  a  mytkus."  Things  very  heterogeneous 
 are  thrown  together  in  this  passage.  AVhat  religious  scruples  need  have 
 hindered  Paul  from  alluding  to  the  consciousness  of  the  I)i\-ine  origin  of 
 the  human  race,  which  the  Athenians  themselves  had  expressed,  and  to  the 
 
16  THE  MIRACULOUS  CONCEPTIOX. 
 
 themselves  from  their  old  prejudices,  refused  to  admit  the 
 doctrine ;  and  the  section  Avhich  contains  the  account  is  ex- 
 cluded from  the  Ebionitish  rescension  of  the  Gospel  to  the 
 Hebrews,  which  arose  from  the  same  source  as  our  Matthew. 
 As  for  the  single  obscure  passage  in  Isa.  vii.,  it  could  hardly 
 have  given  rise  to  such  a  tradition  among  the  people  of  Pales- 
 tine, where,  imquestionably,  Matthew's  Gospel  originated. 
 
 §  11. — Objections  to  tJie  Narrative  drau-n  from  the  subsequent  Dispositions  of 
 Christ's  Relatives,  answered  {l)from  the  Nature  of  the  Case  ;  {2)  from  the 
 name  Jesus. 
 
 An  objection  to  the  credibility  of  the  narrative  has  been 
 raised  on  the  ground  that  if  such  events  had  really  preceded 
 the  bii-th  of  Chi'ist,  his  own  relatives  would  have  been  better 
 disposed  to  recognize  him  as  the  Messiah.  It  is  possible  that 
 the  circumstances  of  his  bu-th  did  raise  their  expectations  to  a 
 lofty  pitch  ;  but  as  for  thirty  years  no  indications  corresponding 
 with  ordinary  views  of  the  Messiah  manifested  themselves,  their 
 first  impressions  gradually  wore  away,  only  to  be  revived,  how- 
 ever, by  the  great  acts  which  Jesus  performed  after  the  open- 
 ing of  his  pubUc  career.  And  as  for  Mary  (in  whom  a  doubt 
 of  this  soi't  would  appear  stiU  more  strange,  as  she  was  directly 
 cognizant  of  the  miraculous  features  of  the  history),  there  is  no 
 proof  whatever  that  she  ever  lost  the  memory  of  her  \T.sions, 
 
 vague  idea  which  they  entertained  of  an  unknowm  God  ?  Nor  was  snch 
 an  allusion  likely  to  be  misunderstood.  How  could  a  man,  imbiied  with 
 Jewish  feeUngs  in  regard  to  the  heathen  mythology  (feelings  which  his 
 conversion  to  Christianity  would  by  no  means  weaken),  compare  the  1  lirth 
 of  the  Holy  One — of  the  Messiah — with  those  pagan  fables,  whose  im- 
 purity coidd  inspire  him  with  nothing  but  disgust  ?  Weisse  has  trans- 
 ferred his  own  mode  of  contemplating  the  heathen  myths  to  a  people  that 
 would  have  revolted  from  it. 
 
 It  is  quite  another  thing  when  Weisse  adduces  the  comparisons  in  which 
 the  early  Christian  apologists  indulged.  These  men,  themselves  of  heathen 
 origin,  were  accustomed  to  the  allegorical  interpretations  of  the  mythology, 
 ind  it  was  natural  for  them  to  seek  and  occupy  a  position  intermediate 
 between  their  earher  and  later  views.  But,  so  far  from  these  comparisons 
 having  given  rise  to  the  accounts  of  the  supernatural  conception,  it  was 
 the  latter  which  caused  the  former.  They  wished  to  show  to  the  heathen 
 that  this  miraculous  event  was  not  altogether  foreign  to  their  own  religious 
 ideas,  while  tliey  carefully  guarded  against  the  sensual  forms  of  thought 
 involved  in  the  myths  ;  and,  as  they  could  presuppose  this  emit,  they  had  a 
 right  to  employ  the  myths  as  they  did,  inasmuch  as  these  poetical  efFiisions 
 of  natural  religion  anticipated  (though  in  sadly-distorted  caricatures)  the 
 ijreat  truth  of  Christianity,  that  the  union  of  the  divine  with  the  human 
 nnture  was  brought  about  by  a  creative  act  of  Omnipotence.  The  early 
 apologists  expressed  this  in  their  own  way  :  "Satan  invented  these  fabUs  by 
 iiiiitiUinff  Ove  truth." 
 
THE  MIRACULOUS  CONCEPTIOX.  17 
 
 or  relinquished  the  hopes  they  are  so  well  calculated  to  raise. 
 Her  conduct  at  the  marriage  of  Cana  proves  directly  the  re- 
 verse. She  obviously  expected  a  miracle  from  Christ  immedi- 
 ately after  the  proclamation  of  his  Messiahship  by  John  the 
 Baptist.  The  confirmation  which  John's  Gospel,  by  its  recital 
 of  this  mii'acle,  affords  to  the  other  evangelists,  is  the  moi-e 
 striking,  as  John  himself  gives  no  accoimt  of  the  events  accom- 
 panying the  birth  of  Christ.° 
 
 "  (a)  John's  silence  in  regard  to  the  miraculous  conception  is  no  proof 
 that  he  was  either  ignorant  of  the  accounts  of  that  event  or  disbeUeved 
 them.  His  object  was  to  testify  to  what  he  had  himself  seen  and  heard, 
 and  to  declare  how  the  glory  of  the  Only  begotten  had  been  unveiled  to 
 him  in  contemplating  Christ's  manifestation  on  earth.  But  that  he  recog- 
 nized the  miraculous  conception  is  evident  from  his  emphatic  declarations 
 (in  opposition  to  the  ordinary  Jewish  idea  of  the  Messiah),  that  the  Divine 
 and  the  human  were  originally  united  in  the  person  of  Christ,  and  that 
 the  Logos  itself  became  flesh  in  him  ;  while  at  the  same  time  he  avers 
 that  '•'  thaiwhich  is  horn  of  the  flesh  is  flesh."  No  man  could  hold  these  two 
 ideas  together  without  believing  in  the  immediate  agency  of  God  in  the 
 generation  of  Chkist.  (6)  The  objection  that  Jesus  was  known  among  the 
 Jews  as  the  son  of  Joseph  and  Mary,  and  that  this  fact  was  adduced 
 against  his  claims,  has  been  sufficiently  met  in  the  text ;  but  it  has  been 
 urged  further  that  Christ  himself,  when  this  objection  was  brought  against 
 him  (Matt.  xiii.  55),  did  not  allude  to  the  miraculous  conception.  As  to 
 this,  we  need  only  say  that  it  was  far  more  likely  and  natural  that  Jesus 
 should  call  men's  attention  to  the  proofi  of  his  Divinity  which  were  before 
 their  eyes  in  his  daily  acts,  sho^ving,  at  the  same  time,  that  the  causes  of 
 their  disbelief  lay  in  themselves,  rather  than  that  he  should  dwell  upon  the 
 circumstances  which  preceded  his  birth,  the  proof  of  which  had  to  rest 
 upon  the  testimony  of  Mary  alone,  (c)  Nor  is  Paul's  silence  on  this 
 point  proof  of  his  not  acknowledging  it.  It  only  shows  that,  for  liis 
 religious  sense,  the  sufferings  and  resurrection  of  Christ,  the  centre  and 
 support  of  the  Christian  system,  stood  out  more  prominently  than  the 
 miraculous  conception.  In  the  passages  in  which  he  speaks  of  Christ's 
 origin,  he  had  a  different  object  in  view  than  to  treat  of  this  subject  ; 
 e.  g.  in  Rom.  ix.  5,  "  Whose  are  the  fathers,  and  of  whom,  as  concern- 
 ing the  flesh,  Christ  came,  who  is  over  all,  God  blessed  for  ever  ;  "  and  in 
 Horn.  i.  4,  where  he  brings  out  prominently  the  two-fold  manifestation  of 
 Christ,  as  the  Son  of  David  and  as  the  Son  of  God,  raised  above  all  human 
 and  national  relationships,  as  he  revealed  himself  after  the  resurrection. 
 If  we  could  infer  from  such  passages  Paul's  disbelief  in  the  miracle,  we  can 
 draw  precisely  the  opposite  conclusion  from  Gal.  iv.  4  ;  although,  as  the 
 case  is,  we  do  not  lay  much  stress  upon  the  expression  "born  of  a  woman." 
 And  if  Paul  could  represent  Jesus  as  the  Son  of  God  from  heaven,  as  beuig 
 without  sin  in  the  flesh  {(jcip'Q,  in  which  sin  before  had  reigned,  while  at 
 the  same  time  he  taught  the  projiagation  of  sinfulness,  from  Adam  down, 
 it  is  likely  that  the  supernatural  generation  of  Jesus  was  so  firmly  esta- 
 blished in  the  connection  of  his  o\\'n  thoughts,  that  he  felt  the  less  necessity 
 to  give  it  individual  prominence.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  make  a  similar 
 remark  hereafter  in  regard  to  the  omission  of  the  accoimt  of  Christ's  as- 
 cension as  an  individual  event. 
 
18«  THE  MIRACULOUS  COXCEPnON. 
 
 The  name  Jesus  itself  affords  additional  proof  that  his 
 parents  "^ere  led  by  some  extraordinary  circumstances  to 
 expect  that  he  would  be  the  MessiaL  Such  names  as  Theo- 
 doru-s,  Theodoret,  Dorotheus,  among  the  Greeks,  "were  usually 
 bestowed  because  the  parents  had  obtained  a  son  after  long 
 desire  and  expectation.  As  names  were  also  given  among  the 
 Jews  with  reference  to  their  significancy,  and  as  the  name 
 Jesus  betokens  ••  Hni  through  whom  Jehovah  bestows  salva- 
 tion j"  and,  moreover,  as  the  Messiah,  the  bearer  of  this  salva- 
 tion, was  generally  expected  at  the  time,  it  must  certainly 
 appear  probable  to  us  that  the  name  was  given  with  reference 
 to  that  expectation-  I^ot  that  this  conclusion  necessarily 
 follows,  because  the  name  Jesiis,  Joshua,  was  common  among 
 the  Jews ;  but  yet,  compared  with  the  accounts,  it  certainly 
 affords  confirmatory  evidence. 
 
 §  12. — Analogical  Ideas  among  the  Heathen. 
 
 Moreover,  inferences  in  favour  of  the  accounts  of  the  mira- 
 culous conception,  as  well  as  against  them,  may  be  obtained  by 
 comparing  them  with  the  ancient  myths  of  other  religions. 
 The  spirit  of  the  pagan  mythology  could  not  have  penetrated. 
 among  the  Jews,  and  therefore  cannot  be  assigned  to  explain 
 the  similarity  between  the  Christian  and  pagan  views.  We 
 must  seek  that  explanation  rather  in  the  relations  that  subsist 
 between  mythical  natural  reHgion  and  historical  revealed  re- 
 ligion ;  between  the  idea,  forming,  from  the  enslaved  conscious- 
 ness which  it  sways,  an  untrue  actualization  ;  and  the  idea, 
 grounded  in  truth,  and  developing  itself  therefrom  into  clear 
 and  free  consciousness. 
 
 The  truth  which  the  rehgious  sense  can  recognize  at  the 
 bottom  of  these  myths,  is  the  earnest  desire,  inseparable  from 
 man's  spirit,  for  communion  with  God,  for  participation  in  the 
 Divine  nature  as  its  true  life — its  anxious  longing  to  pass  the 
 gulf  which  separates  the  God-derived  soul  from  its  original — 
 its  wish,  even  though  unconscious,  to  secure  that  imion  with 
 God  which  alone  can  renew  human  nature,  and  which  Chris- 
 tianity shows  us  as  a  living  reahty.  Xor  can  we  be  astonished 
 to  find  the  facts  of  Christianity  thus  anticipated  in  poetic  forms 
 (embodying  in  imaginative  creations  the  innate  yet  indistinct 
 cravings  of  the  .spirit)  in  the  mythical  elements  of  the  old  re- 
 ligions, when  we  remember  that  human  nature  itself  and  all 
 the  forms  of  its  development,  as  well  as  the  whole  course  of 
 human  history,  were  intended  by  GrOD  to  find  their  full  acoom- 
 
THE  BIBTH  OF  CHRIST.  19 
 
 plishment  in  Chriit.  But  the  genius  of  Christianitv  is  mis- 
 taken by  those  who  despise  the  simplicity  of  the  Gospel  history, 
 and  contrast  it  Tvith  the  poetry  of  religion.  The  opposition, 
 apparently  essential  to  the  mere  natural  man,  bet-vreen  poetry, 
 transcending  the  limits  of  the  actual  and  the  prose  of  common 
 reality,  is  taken  away  by  the  manifestation  of  ChrisT,  and  tciU 
 be  done  away  wherever  Christianity  passes  into  flesh  and 
 blood.  The  pectdiarity  of  Christian  ethics  is  indeed  founded 
 upon  this. 
 
 The  characteristic  difference  between  the  religion  of  Theism 
 and  that  of  the  old  mythology  lies  in  this  one  poiut :  that  in 
 the  evangelical  histories  the  Divine  power  is  represented  as 
 operating  immediately,  and  not  by  the  interposition  of  natural 
 causes  ;  while,  in  the  mythical  conceptions,  the  Divine  causality 
 is  made  co-efficient  with  natural  agencies ;  the  Divine  is 
 brought  down  to  the  sphere  of  the  natxural,  and  its  manifesta- 
 tion is  th\is  physically  explained?  Thus  the  Grospel  histories, 
 precisely  as  a  just  idea  of  Christ  would  lead  us  to  presuppose, 
 attribute  to  the  creative  agency  of  GrOD  alone  the  introduction 
 of  that  new  member  of  humanity  through  which  the  regenera- 
 tion of  the  race  is  to  be  accomplished 
 
 CHAPTER  nL 
 
 THE  BTBTH  OF  CHRIST. 
 §  13. — The  Birth  of  Christ  in  its  JRdatioM  to  the  Jeiciih  Theocracy. 
 As  the  entrance  of  Christ  into  the  course  of  humanity  was 
 brought  about  by  the  co-working  of  supernatural  with  natural 
 elements,  so  both  these  agencies  conspired  in  j^rfparii?^  thetcay 
 for  that  great  event,  the  centre  of  all  things,  and  the  aim  of  all 
 preceding  history.  So  we  interpret  the  relarions  of  the  Jews 
 and  heathens  to  the  appearance  of  Christ.  The  natural  deve- 
 lopment of  the  heathen  was  destined,  under  the  Divine  giddance, 
 to  prepare  them  for  receiving  the  new  light  which  emanated 
 firom  tfesus ;  and  the  history  of  the  Jetcish  people  was  ail  pre- 
 
 p  Baiimfiarten-Orusivs  has  notioed  this  distmctioii  in  his  BiUical  llieo- 
 logy,  p.  397  ;  but  Strauss  denies  it,  and  asserts  that  the  expression  i-iog 
 &tov  in  Luke  i.  35.  is  to  he  taken  entirely  in  a  physical  sense.  There  i3 
 no  such  meaning  in  the  passage  ;  it  predicates  the  terms  "  the  hdy  one." 
 '•'  the  Son  of  God,"  of  Christ,  on  the  ground  of  the  special  ^ency  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit  in  his  birth.  He  who  was  conceived  under  su^  an  agency 
 naist  stand  in  a  special  rebtion  to  GOD.  Not  merely  the  Jewish  mcde  of 
 thinking  on  the  subject,  but  also  the  feet  that  Jesus  is  designated  both 
 as  the  Son  of  David  and  the  Son  of  God,  exclude  the  physical  interpre- 
 tation. 
 
20  THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 paratory  to  the  appearance  and  ministry  of  Christ,  who  was  to 
 come  forth  out  of  their  midst.  This  preparation  was  accom- 
 plished by  means  of  a  chain  of  separate,  but  organically  con- 
 i5PA>+oP  revelations,  all  tending  toward  the  fidl  revelation  in 
 Him,  whose  whole  life  was  itself  to  be  the  highest  manifestation 
 of  God  to  man. 
 
 There  was  pecuhar  fitness  in  Christ's  being  bom  among  the 
 Jewish  people.  His  life  revealed  the  Mngdom  of  God,  which 
 was  to  be  set  up  over  all  men,  and  it  properly  commenced  in  a 
 nation  whose  political  life,  always  developed  in  a  theocratic 
 form,  was  a  continual  type  of  that  kingdom.  He  was  the 
 culminating  point  of  this  development :  in  Him  the  kingdom 
 of  God,  no  longer  hmited  to  this  single  people,  was  to  show  its 
 true  design,  and,  imfettered  by  physical  or  national  restraints, 
 to  assert  its  authority  over  the  whole  human  race.  The  parti- 
 cular typifies  the  universal :  the  earthly,  the  celestial ;  so 
 David,  the  monarch  who  had  raised  the  poUtieal  theocracy  of 
 the  Jews  to  the  pinnacle  of  glory,  typified  that  greater  monarch 
 in  whom  the  kingdom  of  God  was  to  display  its  glory.  Not 
 without  reason,  therefore,  was  it  that  Christ,  the  summit  of 
 the  theocracy,  sprang  firom  the  fallen  line  of  royal  David.  i 
 
 ■i  However  the  discrepancies  in  the  two  genealogies  of  Clirist  may  be 
 explained,  his  descent  from  the  race  of  David  was  admitted  from  the 
 beginning,  and  the  evangelists  took  it  for  granted  as  indisputable.  How 
 Weisse  should  deny  this,  as  he  does  (p.  169),  is  unaccountable.  His  argu- 
 ments can  convince  no  one  endowed  with  the  slightest  powers  of  observa- 
 tion, and  need  no  answer.  The  only  one  which  is  at  all  plausible  is  that 
 founded  on  Mark  xii.  35,  and  that  depends  upon  the  question  whether 
 Mark  uses  these  words  in  their  original  application  ;  a  question  which 
 we  shall  hereafter  have  occasion  to  examine.  Certainly,  if  they  admit  of 
 tnore  than  one  interpretation,  we  shall  adopt  any  other  sooner  than  that 
 which  comes  into  conflict  with  Paul,  who  assumed  Christ's  descent  from 
 David  as  certain.  Could  the  apostles  have  embraced  a  notion  which  the 
 Saviour  himself  had  denounced  as  an  invention  of  the  scribes  ?  There  was 
 nothing  in  Paul's  turn  of  feeling  or  thought  to  incline  him  towards  it,  had 
 it  not  been  established  on  other  grounds  ;  on  the  contrary,  the  doctrine 
 that  Christ  was  not  the  Son  of  David,  but  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Lord  of 
 David,  would  have  afforded  him  an  excellent  point  of  attack  against 
 Judaism.  Although  Luke's  genealogy  is  not  directly  stated  as  following 
 the  line  of  Mary,  yet  it  may  have  done  so,  and  have  only  been  improperly 
 placed  where  it  is.  Justin  Martyr  (Dial.  c.  Tryph.  i.  327)  was  acquainted 
 with  such  a  genealogy  referring  to  Mary.  Luke  i.  32-35,  seems  to  show 
 that  Mary  was  of  David's  race.  Her  relationship  to  Elizabeth,  the  mother 
 of  John  Baptist,  does  not  prove  the  contrarj' ;  for  members  of  the  tribe  of 
 Levi  were  not  restrained  from  intermarriage  with  other  tribes  ;  and 
 Elizabeth,  although  of  that  tribe  on  the  father's  side,  and  herself  the 
 wife  of  a  priest,  might  very  well  have  sprung  from  the  tribe  of  Judah  on 
 the  mother's  side. 
 
THE  BIRTH  OP  CHRIST.  21 
 
 §  14. — The  Miraculous  Events  that  accompanied  the  Birth  of  Christ. 
 
 The  Divine  purpose  in  the  supernatural  conception  of  Jesua 
 could  not  have  been  accomplished  without  some  providenti-al 
 forewarnings  to  his  parents  ;  nor  could  these  intimations  of  the 
 certainty  of  the  approaching  birth  of  the  theocratic  King  have 
 been  given  by  ordinary,  natural  means.  In  the  sphere  of  the 
 greatest  miracle  of  human  history,  the  miracle  which  was  to 
 raise  mankind  to  communion  with  Heaven,  we  do  not  wonder 
 to  see  rays  of  light  streaming  from  the  invisible  world,  at  other 
 times  so  dark. 
 
 From  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  we  can  expect  no  fidl 
 account  of  those  extraordinary  manifestations  of  which,  natu- 
 rally enough,  Mary  alone  could  testify.'  But  a  mere  myllms, 
 destitute  of  historical  truth,  and  only  serving  as  the  veU  of  an 
 ideal  truth,  is  a  veiy  different  thing  from  what  we  are  here 
 stating,  viz.,  that  a  lofty  history  may  be  imparted  in  a  form 
 wliich  must  have  more  than  its  mere  literal  force  ;  and  that 
 events  of  a  lofty  character  necessarily  impart  their  higher  tone 
 to  the  language  in  which  they  are  conveyed.  In  this  latter 
 case,  we  may  harmlessly  differ  in  our  modes  of  arranging  the 
 materials,  and  of  filling  up  the  chasms  of  the  history,  so  that 
 we  only  hold  fast  the  substantial  facts  which  form  its  basis. 
 The  course  of  the  events  described  in  Matt.  i.  18-25,  may  be 
 arranged  as  follows  : — When  Mary  informed  Joseph  of  the 
 remarkable  communication  that  had  been  made  to  her,  he  could 
 not  at  once  bring  himself  to  believe  it ;  which  was  not  at  all 
 strange,  considering  its  extraordinary  character,  and  how  little 
 he  was  prepared  for  it.  A  struggle  ensued  in  his  feelings,  and 
 then  occurred  the  night  vision  which  brousfht  his  mind  to  a 
 final  decision.^ 
 
 §  15. — The  Taxing. — Birth  of  Christ  at  Bethlehem. 
 By  a  remarkable  interposition  of  Providence,  interwoven, 
 however,  with  the  course  of  events  in  the  world,  was  it  brought 
 
 "■  Mary  could  only  have  been  taught  to  expect  the  Saviour  in  a  way 
 harmonizing  with  her  views  at  the  time,  and  with  the  prevailing  Jewish 
 ideas  of  the  Messiah,  viz.  that  the  Messiah  should  come  of  the  line  of 
 David,  to  establish  an  everlasting  kingdom  among  the  Jews.  But  this 
 was  only  a  covering  for  the  higher  idea  of  the  Redeemer,  the  founder  of 
 the  eternal  kingdom  of  God. 
 
 *  We  need  be  the  less  afi-aid  of  a  free  unliteral  interpretation  when  we 
 find  a  difference  in  the  subjective  conception  of  these  events  by  even  the 
 evangelists  themselves,  Matthew  speaking  only  of  dreams  and  visions,  and 
 Luke  of  objective  phenomena,  viz.  the  appearance  of  angels. 
 
22  THE  BIKTH  OF  CHUIST. 
 
 about  that  the  promised  Eang  slaoiild  be  born  in  Bethlehem  (as 
 Micah  the  prophet  had  foretold),  the  veiy  place  where  the 
 hoiLse  of  David  had  its  origin  ;  while,  at  the  same  time,  the 
 lowly  circumstances  of  his  birth  were  in  striking  contrast  with 
 the  inherent  dignity  and  glory  that  were  veiled  in  the  new- 
 born child. 
 
 The  Emperor  Augustus  had  ordered  a  general  census  of  the 
 Roman  empire,  partly  to  obtain  correct  statistics  of  its  resources,* 
 and  partly  for  purposes  of  taxation.^  As  Judea  was  then  a 
 dependency  of  the  empire,  and  Augustus  probably  intended  to 
 reduce  it  entirely  to  the  state  of  a  Roman  province,  he  wished 
 to  secure  similar  statistics  of  that  country,  and  ordered  "King 
 Herod  to  take  the  census.  In  performing  this  duty,  Herod 
 followed  the  Jewish  usage,  vi^;.,  a  division  by  tribes.^     Joseph 
 
 *  This  was  not  confined  to  the  Roman  provinces,  but  extended  also  to 
 the  Socii. — Tacit.  Ann.  i.  xi. 
 
 "  Cassiodor.  i.  iii.  ep.  52  :  Augusti  temporihus  orbis  Romanius  agns  divisus 
 censuque  descfriptus,  ut  possessio  sui  nulli  haberetur  incerta,  quam  pro  tribu- 
 torum  siisciperet  quantitatihus  solvendatn.  (Conf.  Savigny's  dissertation  in 
 the  "  Zeitschrift  fur  die  geschichtl.  Beclitswissenschaft, "  Bd.  -vi.  H.  3.) 
 This  language  of  the  learned  statesman  shows  that  he  followed  older 
 accounts  rather  than  a  Christian  report  drawn  from  Luke  ;  and  the 
 expression  of  Tacitus  confirms  this  conclusion.  There  is  no  ground, 
 therefore,  for  the  doubts  started  by  Strauss,  3rd  ed.  p.  257. 
 
 "  Luke's  account  of  the  matter  is  so  prosaic  and  straightforward,  that 
 none  but  a  prejudiced  mind  can  find  a  trace  of  the  mythical  in  it.  Ex- 
 amine the  Apocryphal  Gospels,  and  you  will  see  the  difference  between 
 history  and  fable.  And  even  if  it  could  be  shown  that  the  census  was 
 incorrect,  and  that  the  gathering  at  Bethlehem  was  due  to  some  other 
 cause,  no  suspicion  would  thereby  be  cast  upon  the  entire  narration  ;  the 
 only  reasonable  conclusion  would  be,  that  Luke,  or  the  writer  from  whom 
 he  copied,  had  fallen  into  an  anachronism,  or  an  erroneous  combination  of 
 facts,  in  assigning  the  census  as  the  cause  of  the  gathering.  Such  an  error 
 could  not  afiect  in  any  way  the  interests  of  religion.  Moreover,  what 
 right  have  we  to  demand  of  Luke  so  exact  a  knowledge  of  the  history  of 
 his  times,  in  things  that  did  not  materially  concern  his  purpose  ?  Such 
 anachronisms,  in  things  indifierent,  are  common  to  writers  of  all  ages. 
 But  the  account  itself  contains  no  marks  of  improbabihty.  The  emperor 
 would  naturally  order  Herod,  whom  he  still  recognized  as  king,  to  take 
 the  census,  and  Herod  as  naturally  followed  the  Jewish  usage  in  doing  it. 
 It  was  the  policy  of  the  emperor,  at  that  time,  to  treat  the  Jews  with 
 kindness,  and  therefore  he  would  naturally  make  the  first  attempt  at  a 
 census  as  delicately  as  possible.  How  repugnant  such  a  measure  was  to 
 them  is  shown  by  Josephus's  account  of  the  tumults  that  arose  on  account 
 of  the  census  under  Quirinus,  twelve  years  afterward.  Luke  may  have 
 gone  too  far  in  extending  (as  his  language  seems  to  imply)  the  census  over 
 the  whole  empire  ;  or  perhaps,  in  stating  the  gradual  census  of  the  whole 
 empire  as  a  simultaneous  one.  Perhaps  he  mistook  this  assessment  for  the 
 census  which  occurred  twelve  years  later,  and  on  that  account  erroneously 
 
THE  BIRTH  OF  CHRIST.  23 
 
 and  Mary  belonged  to  the  tribe  of  David,  and  tlierefore  had  to 
 repau'  to  Bethlehem,  the  seat  of  that  tribe.  On  account  of  the 
 throng,  they  could  find  no  shelter  but  a  stable,  and  the  new- 
 born infant  had  to  be  laid  in  a  manger.^' 
 
 §  16. — The  Announcement  to  the  Shepherds. 
 
 It  is  in  accordance  with  the  analogy  of  history  that  great 
 manifestations  and  epochs,  designed  to  satisfy  the  spiritual 
 wants  of  ages,  should  be  anticipated  by  the  prophetic  yearnings 
 of  pui*e  and  susceptible  hearts,  inspired  by  a  secret  Divine 
 consciousness.  All  great  events  that  have  introduced  a  new 
 developement  of  human  history  have  been  preceded  by  un- 
 conscious or  conscious  prophecy.  This  may  seem  strange  to 
 such  as  ascribe  to  God  the  apathy  of  the  Stoics,  or  who  believe 
 only  in  the  cold,  iron  necessity  of  an  immanent  spirit  of  na- 
 ture ;  but  to  none  who  believe  in  a  personal,  self-conscious 
 Deity,  a  God  of  eternal  love,  who  is  nigh  unto  every  man,  and 
 listens  willingly  to  the  secret  sighs  of  longing  souls,  can  it 
 appear  unworthy  of  such  a  Being  to  foreshadow  great  world- 
 historical  epochs  by  responding  to  such  longings  in  special  reve- 
 lations. 
 
 Far  more  probable,  then,  would  such  manifestations  be,  in 
 reference  to  the  highest  object  of  human  longings,  the  greatest 
 of  all  world-historical  phenomena ;  and  so,  at  the  time  of 
 Christ's  coming,  the  people  of  Judea,  giiided  by  the  pro- 
 phecies of  the  Old  Testament,  yearned  for  the  appearance  of 
 the  Messiah  with  an  anxiety  only  rendered  more  intense  by 
 
 mentioned  Qidrinus.  Nevertheless,  Quirinus  may  have  been  actually 
 present  at  this  assessment,  not,  indeed,  as  governor  of  the  province,  but 
 as  imperial  commissioner ;  for  Josephus  expressly  says  that  he  had  held 
 many  other  offices  before  he  was  governor  of  Syria,  at  the  time  of  the 
 second  census.  I  do  not  agree  with  any  of  the  explanations,  either  ancient 
 or  modern,  which  attempt  to  make  Luke's  statement  agree  exactly  with 
 history  ;  they  all  seem  to  me  to  be  forced  and  unphilological ;  while  the 
 want  of  exactness  in  Luke  is  easily  explained,  and  is  of  no  manner  of  im- 
 portance for  the  object  which  he  had  in  view. 
 
 ^  The  tradition  in  Justin  Martyr  (Dial.  c.  Tryph..304,  a),  that  they 
 found  shelter  in  a  cave  near  the  town,  which  had  before  been  used  for  a 
 cattle  stall  (ti'  (nrrjXaUi)  rivl  cvvtyyvg  rj)c  KMfiTjo),  may  be  true,  although 
 we  should  not  like  to  vouch  for  it.  It  is  more  likely  that  the  prophecy  in 
 Isaiah  xxxiii.  16  (which  Justin  refers  to  in  the  Alexandrian  ver.-3ion),  was 
 applied  to  this  tradition  after  it  arose,  than  that  the  tradition  arose  from 
 the  prophecy.  At  that  time  men  were  accustomed  to  find  every  where  in 
 the  Old  Testament  predictions  and  types  of  Christ,  whether  warranted  by 
 the  connection  or  not.  The  tradition  does  not  specify  such  a  cave  as  the 
 passage  in  Isaiah  would  lead  one  to  expect,  nor,  indeed,  does  the  passage 
 seem  distinctly  to  refer  to  the  Messiah. 
 
24  THE  SACRIFICE  OF  PURIFICATION. 
 
 the  oppressions  under  wliicli  they  groaned.  This  feehng  would 
 naturally  be  kept  aMve  in  Bethlehem,  associated  as  the  place 
 •was  with  recollections  of  the  family  of  David,  from  which  the 
 Messiah  was  to  come.  So,  even  among  the  shepherds,  who 
 kept  nightly  watch  over  the  flocks,  were  some  who  anxiously 
 awaited  the  appearance  of  the  Messiah.  It  is  true,  the  accoimt 
 does  not  say  that  the  shepherds  thus  longed  for  the  Messiah. 
 But  we  are  justified  by  what  followed  in  presupposing  it  as  the 
 ground  for  such  a  communication's  being  especially  made  to 
 them  ;  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  these  simple  souls,  untaught 
 in  the  traditions  of  the  sci-ibes,  and  nourished  by  commimion 
 with  God,  amid  the  freedom  of  nature,  in  a  sohtude  congenial 
 to  meditation  and  prayer,  had  formed  a  purer  idea  of  the 
 Messiah,  from  the  necessities  of  theii*  own  hearts,  than  pre- 
 vailed at  that  time  among  the  Jews.  A  vision  from  Heaven 
 conducted  them  on  that  night,  so  big  with  interest  to  man's 
 salvation,  to  the  jjlace  where  the  object  of  their  desire  was  to 
 be  born.^ 
 
 §  17. — Tlie  Sacnfice  of  Purification,  and  the  Ransom  of  the  First-born; 
 their  Weight  as  Proof  against  the  Mythical  Tlmyry. 
 
 The  mass  of  the  Jewish  people,  whose  minds  were  darkened 
 by  their  material  and  pohtical  \iews,  entertained  a  totally 
 false  idea  of  the  Messiah  ;  but  there  were  many  at  Jerusalem 
 
 ^^  Justly  and  beautifully  says  Schleiermacher,  '"There  is  something  re- 
 markable, something  divine,  in  the  satisfaction  not  seldom  afforded  in  extra- 
 ordinary times  even  to  individual  longings."  We  agree  with  this  great 
 teacher  in  thinking  that  this  account  came  indirectly  from  the  shepherds 
 themselves,  as  it  recites  so  particularly  what  occurred  to  themselves  per- 
 sonally, and  makes  so  little  mention  of  what  happened  to  the  child  after 
 their  arrival.  The  facts  may  be  supposed  to  have  been  as  follows :  The 
 faithful  were  anxious  to  presei-ve  the  minute  features  of  the  life  of  Jesus. 
 (We  cannot  be  persuaded  by  the  assertions  of  modern  Ideahsm  that  this 
 feeling  had  no  existence.  We  see  every  day  how  anxiously  men  look  for 
 individual  traits  in  the  childhood  of  great  men.)  Especially  would  any  one 
 who  had  the  opportunity  prosecute  such  researches  in  the  remarkal)le  place 
 where  Christ  was  born.  Perhaps  one  of  these  inquirers  there  found  one  of 
 the  shepherds  who  liad  witnessed  these  events,  and  whose  memory  of  them 
 was  vividly  recalled  after  his  conversion  to  Christianity.  We  cannot  be 
 sure  that  such  a  man  would  give  with  literal  accuracy  the  words  that  he 
 had  heard  ;  but,  taking  them  as  they  stand,  it  is  astonishing  how  free  they 
 are  from  the  materialis-m  which  always  tinged  Jewish  expression,  and  in 
 how  purely  spiritual  a  way  they  describe  the  sublime  transaction  of  which 
 they  treat.  Wliether  we  follow  the  received  version  or  that  of  tlie  Cod. 
 Alex.,  we  find  the  same  tliought  expressed  in  the  statement  of  the  shep- 
 herds, viz.,  "  That  God  is  glorified  in  the  Messiah,  who  brings  pe;ice  and 
 joy  to  the  earth,  and  restores  man  again  to  the  Divine  favour." 
 
TBS  SACRIFICE  OF  PURIFICATION.  25 
 
 who  longed  for  a  purer  salvation,  and  these,  also,  "were  to 
 receive  a  sign  that  the  object  of  their  hopes  had  at  last  ap- 
 peared. 
 
 Forty  days  after  the  birth  of  the  infant  Jesus  his  parents 
 carried  him  to  the  temple  at  Jerusalem,  in  order  to  offer, 
 according  to  their  means,  the  prescribed  sacrifice  for  the  puri- 
 fication of  Mary,  and  to  pay  the  usual  ransom  for  their  first- 
 bom,  y  This  appears  strange,  in  view  of  the  extraordinary'- 
 circumstances  that  preceded  and  followed  the  birth  of  the 
 child,  which,  one  might  suppose,  would  make  it  an  exception 
 to  ordinary  rules.  The  points  which  the  Levitical  law  had  in 
 view  seem  not  to  have  existed  here  :  so  remarkable  a  birth 
 might  have  precluded  the  necessity  of  the  Le-vitical  pm-ifi- 
 cation.  The  ransom  which  had  to  be  paid  for  other  first-bom 
 sons,  in  view  of  their  original  obligation  to  the  priesthood, 
 covdd  hardly  be  necessary  in  the  case  of  an  infant  who  was  one 
 day  to  occupy  the  summit  of  the  Theocracy.  It  would  be 
 natural  to  suppose  that  Mary  must  have  hesitated,  and  laid 
 her  scruples  before  the  priests  for  decision  before  she  could 
 make  up  her  mind  to  perfonn  these  ceremonies.  But  we 
 cannot  judge  of  such  extraordinary  events  by  common  stand- 
 ards. Mary  did  not  venture  to  speak  fi'eely  in  public  of  these 
 wonderful  things,  or  to  anticipate  the  Divine  purposes  in  any 
 way ;  she  left  it  to  God  to  educate  the  child,  which  had  been 
 announced  to  her  as  the  Messiah,  so  as  to  fit  him  for  his 
 calling,  and,  at  the  proper  time,  to  authenticate  his  mission 
 publicly  and  conspicuously. 
 
 Now  a  mythus  generally  endeavours  to  ennoble  its  subject, 
 and  to  adapt  the  story  to  the  idea.^  If,  then,  the  Gospel  nar- 
 rative were  mythical,  would  it  have  invented,  or  even  suffered 
 to  remain,  a  circumstance  so  foreign  to  the  idea  of  the  myth, 
 and  so  little  calculated  to  dignify  it  as  the  above  1  A  mythus 
 would  have  introduced  an  angel,  or,  at  least,  a  \dsion,  to  hinder 
 
 y  Exod.  xiii.  2,  12  ;  Num.  iii.  45  ;  xviii.  15  ;  Levit.  xii.  2. 
 
 *  The  remarks  of  Strauss,  1.  c,  p.  326,  do  not  at  all  weaken  what  is 
 here  said.  He  adduces,  also,  the  fact  that  Luke  (iii.  21)  states  the  baptism 
 without  mentioning  John's  previous  refusal  (Matt.  iii.  14)  ;  but  aU  the 
 force  of  this  lies  in  his  presupposition  that  Luke's  narrative  is  also 
 mythical,  which  I  deny.  As  to  Gal.  iv.  4,  we  of  course  believe  that 
 Christ  strictly  fidfilled  the  Mosaic  law;  but  this  fact,  on  Jewish  principles, 
 is  no  parallel  to  tlie  other,  viz.  that  Mary,  under  the  circumstances  of  the 
 miraculous  birth,  needed  purification,  and  that  the  Messiah,  who  was 
 destined  for  the  highest  station  in  the  Theocracy,  needed  a  lansom  from  the 
 obligation  to  the  priesthood. 
 
36  THE  CHILDHOOD  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 Mary  from  submitting  the  child  to  a  ceremony  so  unvrorthy  of 
 its  dignity  ;  or  the  priests  would  have  received  an  intimation 
 from  heaven  to  bow  before  the  infant,  and  prevent  its  being 
 thus  reduced  to  the  level  of  ordinary  children.  Nothing  of 
 all  this  took  place  :  but,  instead  of  it,  simply  and  imostenta- 
 tiously,  the  high  dignity  and  destiny  of  the  child  were  revealed 
 to  two  faithful  souls. 
 
 §  18. — Simeon's  Prophetic  Discowrse. 
 
 The  aged  and  devout  Simeon,''  who  had  longed  and  prayed 
 for  the  coming  of  Messiah's  kingdom,  had  received  the  Divine 
 assiirance  tliat  he  should  not  die  mthout  seeing  the  desire  of 
 his  heart.  Under  a  peculiai'ly  "\T.vid  impulse  of  this  presenti- 
 ment, he  entered  the  Temple  just  as  the  infant  Jesus  was 
 brought  in.  The  Divine  glory  irradiating  the  child's  features 
 hai'monized  with  the  longing  of  his  inspired  soul ;  he  recog- 
 nized the  manifested  Messiah,  took  the  infant  in  his  arms,  and 
 exclaimed,  in  a  bui'st  of  inspired  gratitude,  "  Lord,  now  let  Hiy 
 servant  depart  in  peace  according  to  thy  promise,  for  onine  eyes 
 have  seen  thy  salvation  which  thou  liast  prepared  before  the  face  of 
 (dl  people,  a  light  to  enlighten  tJie  Gentiles,  aiul  tJie  glory  of  thy 
 people  Israel"  ^  Then,  turning  to  Mary,  he  exclaimed,  ^^ Be- 
 hold, this  child  is  set  for  the  fall  and  rising  again  of  many  in 
 Israel,  and  for  a  sign  which  slwll  he  spoken  against ;  '^  and  a 
 sword  sJudl  pierce  through  thine  own  soul  also,  tluit  tlie  thcnigJits 
 of  many  hearts  may  be  revealed." 
 
 Notice,  now,  the  remarkable  idea  of  the  Messiah  which  these 
 words  convey  ;  precisely  such  a  one  as  we  should  expect  from 
 
 *  We  have  no  reason  to  suppose  him  to  be  the  Rahhi  Simeon,  the  father 
 of  Gamaliel,  as  no  distinguisliing  mark  of  eminence  is  assigned  to  him. 
 
 ^  It  is  said  in  Luke  ii.  33,  that  "  Joseph  and  Mary  marvelled  "  at  the 
 words  of  Simeon.  Now  it  is  strange  that  what  he  said  should  appear 
 marvellous  to  the  parents,  who  were  already  cognizant  of  so  many 
 wonderful  events  in  the  history  of  the  child.  But  we  are  to  remember 
 that  the  first  three  Gospels  do  not  contain  connected  histories,  but  compi- 
 lations of  separate  memoirs  ;  and  again,  the  ■writer  of  the  narrative  may 
 have  been  so  imbued  with  wonder  at  the  extraordinary  whole,  as  to  transfer 
 this  feeling  to  liis  expression  in  detailing  the  separate  2:iarts,  again  and 
 again.  The  narrative  would  have  worn  a  veiy  different  aspect,  liad  Luke 
 designed  to  compose  a  systematic  work,  with  the  parts  accurately  adjusted, 
 instead  of  writing,  as  he  did,  with  a  simple  and  straightforward  candour. 
 
 ••■  The  residts  of  Messiah's  appearance  among  men  depend  upon  their 
 own  spiritual  dispositions  :  salvation  for  the  believer,  destruction  for  the 
 imbeliever.  Around  his  banner  the  hosts  of  the  faithful  gather ;  but 
 infidels  reject  and  fight  against  it.  Salvation  and  doom  arc  correlative 
 ideas  ;  all  world-historical  epochs  are  epochs  of  condemnation. 
 
THE  STAIl  OF  THE  WISE  MEN.  27 
 
 ,  longing  Jew,  of  deep,  spiritual  piety.  Althougli  it  cannot  be 
 aid  to  contain  really  Christian  elements,  it  is  far  above  tbe 
 irdinary  conceptions  of  the  times  ;  and  tliis  not  only  confirms 
 he  truth  of  the  nan'ative,  but  stamps  the  discourse  as  Simeon's 
 iwn,  and  not  a  speech  composed  in  his  name.'^  It  is  true, 
 simeon  conceives  the  kingdom  of  Messiah  as  tending  to  gloiify 
 he  Jewish  people,  but  yet  extends  its  blessings  also  over  the 
 leathen,  and  believes  that  the  light  of  the  knowledge  of  God 
 vill  illumine  them  also.  Nor  does  he  conceive  Messiah's 
 dngdom  as  triumphing  at  once  by  displays  of  miraculous 
 )ower,  bxit  rather  as  developing  itself  after  struggles  with  pre- 
 vailing corruptions,  and  after  a  gradual  purifying  of  the  theo- 
 iratic  nation.  The  conflict  with  the  coiTupt  part  of  the  nation 
 ^^as  to  be  severe  before  the  Messiah  coidd  lead  his  faithful  ones 
 o  victory.  The  foreboding  of  suffering  to  Mary,  so  inde- 
 initely  expressed,  bears  no  mark  of  fost  factum  invention. 
 3ut  the  inspired  idea  of  Messiah,  in  the  pious  old  man 
 •bviously  connected  the  sufferings  which  he  was  to  endure  in 
 ds  strife  against  the  corntpt  people  with  those  which  were 
 bretold  of  him  in  Isaiah  lui. 
 
 The  other  devout  one,  to  whom  the  destiny  of  the  infant 
 resus  was  revealed,  was  the  aged  Anna,  who  heard  Simeon's 
 Fords,  shared  in  his  jo}'fid  anticipations,  and  tmited  in  his  song 
 if  thanksgiving.  ^ 
 
 19. — The,  Longinr;  oftlie  Heathen  fw  a  Saviour. — The  Star  of  the  Wise  Men. 
 Not  only  dwellers  about  Bethlehem,  but  also  men  from  a 
 ai'-distant  land,  imbued  with  the  longing  desires  of  which  we 
 lave  spoken,  were  led  to  the  place  where  Christ  was  born,  by 
 ,  sign  suited  to  their  pecidiar  mode  of  life,  a  fact  which  fore- 
 hadowed  that  the  hopes  of  heathen  as  well  as  Jews,  imcon- 
 cious  as  Avell  as  conscious  longings  for  a  Saviour,  were 
 fterward  to  be  gratified.^     We  have  before  remarked,  that 
 
 *  The  accurate  report  of  this  discourse  is  accounted  for  hy  the  supposi- 
 ion  that  the  account  came  indirectly  from  Anna  :  not  only  the  discourse, 
 lut  the  whole  occurrence,  must  have  made  a  deep  impression  upon  her 
 lind. 
 
 *=  We  agree  with  Schleicrmacher  in  thinking  it  probable  that  the  narrative 
 ame  indirectly  from  Anna.  vShe  is  far  more  minutely  described  in  it  than 
 limeon,  although  the  latter  and  his  discourse  constitute  the  most  important 
 art  of  the  account,  while  her  words  are  not  reported  at  all. 
 
 '  If  this  narrative  is  to  be  considered  as  mythical,  we  must  yet  ascribe 
 is  origin  to  the  same  source  which  produced  the  Hebrew  Gospel,  \iz.  the 
 ewish-Christian  congregations  in  Palestine — a  likely  origin,  indeed,  for  a 
 lyth  ascribing  so  great  interest  and  importance  to  uncircumcised  heathen! 
 
20  THE  CHILDHOOD  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 the  natural  development  of  the  heathen  mind  worked  in  the 
 same  direction  as  the  movement  of  revealed  religion  among  the 
 Jews  to  prepare  the  way  for  Christ's  appearance,  which  was 
 the  aim  and  end  of  all  previous  human  history.  There  is 
 something  analogous  to  the  law  and  the  prophets  (which,  under 
 revealed  religion,  led  directly,  and  by  an  organically-arranged 
 connexion,  to  Christ),  in  the  sporadic  and  detached  revelations, 
 which,  here  and  there  among  the  heathen,  arose  from  the 
 Divine  consciousness  implanted  in  humanity.  As,  under  the 
 Law,  man's  sense  of  its  insufficiency  to  work  out  his  justi- 
 fication was  accompanied  by  the  promise  of  One  who  should 
 accomplish  what  the  Law  could  never  do,  so,  in  the  progress 
 of  the  pagan  mind  under  the  law  of  natiu-e,  there  arose  a  sense 
 of  the  necessity  of  a  new  revelation  from  heaven,  and  a  longing 
 desire  for  a  higher  order  of  things.  The  notion  of  a  Messiah, 
 carried  about  by  the  Jews  in  their  intercourse  with  different 
 nations,  everywhere  found  a  point  of  contact  with  the  religious 
 sense  of  men  ;  and  thus  natural  and  revealed  religion  worked 
 into  each  other,  as  well  as  sepai-ately,  in  preparing  the  way  for 
 the  appearance  of  Christ,  s 
 
 Thus  it  happened  that  a  few  sages  in  Ai*abia  (or  in  some 
 part  of  the  Parthian  kingdom),  who  inquired  for  the  course  of 
 human  events  in  that  of  the  stars,  became  convinced  that  a 
 certain  constellation  or  star  ^  which  they  beheld  was  a  token ' 
 of  the  birth  of  the  great  King  who  was  expected  to  arise  in 
 
 An  extravagant  exaggeration  of  the  real  occurrence  was  subsequently 
 made,  probably  from  a  fragment  of  one  of  the  recensions  of  the  Hebrew 
 Gospel  (Ignat.  Epist.  ad  Ephes.  §  19) :  "  The  star  sparkled  brilhantly 
 beyond  all  other  stars  ;  it  was  a  strange  and  wonderftil  sight.  The  other 
 stars,  with  the  sun  and  moon,  formed  a  choir  around  it,  but  its  blaze  out- 
 shone them  all. ' ' 
 
 f  We  do  not  insist  upon  Tacit.  Hist.  5,  13,  and  Sueton.  Vespasian,  4, 
 who  speak  of  a  rumour  spread  over  the  whole  East,  of  the  approaching 
 appearance  of  the  great  King,  as  it  is  yet  doubtful  whether  these  passages 
 are  not  imitated  from  Josephus. 
 
 •^  Tt  is  necessary  to  distinguish  what  is  objectively  real  in  the  narrative 
 from  what  arises  from  the  subjective  stand-point  of  the  author  of  our 
 Matthew's  Gospel,  who  certainly  did  not  receive  the  account  from  an 
 eye-witness.  Not  merely  philological  exegesis,  but  also  historical  cri- 
 ticism, are  required  for  this ;  and  if  the  result  of  such  an  inquiry  be 
 pronounced  arbitrary,  because  it  does  not  either  affinn  or  reject  the 
 objective  reality  of  eveiy  thinr/  in  the  account,  then  must  all  historical 
 criticism  be  pronounced  arbitrary  also,  for  it  has  no  other  mode  of  pro- 
 cedure in  testing  the  accuracy  of  a  narrative. 
 
 '  Conf.  Bishop  Mimter's  treatise  on  the  "  Star  of  the  Wise  Men,"  and 
 Idekr's  Chronology,  ii.  399.  It  is  immaterial  whether  the  sages  were  led 
 to  seek  for  the  sign  by  a  theory  of  their  own,  or  by  a  traditional  one. 
 
THE  STAR  OF  THE  WISE  MEN.  29 
 
 the  East.  It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose  that  an  actual 
 miracle  was  wrought  in  this  case  ;  the  course  of  natm-al  events, 
 under  Divine  guidance,  was  made  to  lead  to  Christ,  just  as  the 
 general  moral  culture  of  the  heathen,  though  under  natural 
 forms,  was  made  to  lead  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Saviour. 
 
 The  Magi  studied  astrology,  and  in  their  study  found  a  sign 
 of  Christ.  If  it  offends  us  to  find  that  God  has  used  the  errors 
 of  man  to  lead  him  to  a  knowledge  of  the  great  truths  of  sal- 
 vation, as  if  thereby  He  had  lent  himself  to  sustain  the  False, 
 then  must  we  break  in  pieces  the  chain  of  human  events,  in 
 which  the  True  and  the  False,  the  Good  and  the  Evil,  are  so 
 inseparably  linked,  that  the  latter  often  serves  for  the  point  of 
 transition  to  the  former.  Especially  do  we  see  this  in  the  his- 
 tory of  the  spread  of  Christianity,  where  superstition  often 
 paves  the  way  for  faith.  God  condescends  to  the  platforms  of 
 men  in  training  them  for  belief  in  the  Redeemer,  and  meets 
 the  aspirations  of  the  truth-seeking  soul  even  in  its  error !  J  In 
 the  case  of  the  wise  men,  a  real  truth,  perhaps,  lay  at  the 
 bottom  of  the  error ;  the  tnith,  namely,  that  the  greatest  of 
 all  events,  which  was  to  produce  the  greatest  revolution  in 
 humanity,  is  actually  connected  with  the  epochs  of  the  mate- 
 rial universe,  although  the  links  of  the  chain  may  be  hidden 
 from  our  view. 
 
 In  the  narrative  before  us,  we  need  not  attach  the  same  in- 
 disputable certainty  to  the  details  as  to  the  general  substance. 
 That  the  Magians  should  be  led,  by  their  astrological  researches, 
 to  a  presentiment  of  the  birth  of  the  Saviour  in  Judea — that 
 their  own  longings  should  impel  them  to  journey  to  Jerusalem 
 and  do  homage  to  the  infant  in  whom  lay  veiled  the  mighty 
 King — this  is  the  lofty,  the  Divine  element  in  the  transaction, 
 which  no  one  who  believes  in  a  guiding,  eternal  love — no  one 
 who  is  conscious  of  the  real  import  of  a  Redeemer — can  fad  to 
 recognize. 
 
 We  cannot  vouch  with  equal  positiveness  for  the  accuracy  of 
 Matthew's  statement  of  the  means  by  which  the  sages  learned, 
 after  their  arrival  in  Jerusalem,  that  the  chosen  child  was  to 
 
 J  Ilamann  strikingly  says,  "  How  often  has  God  condescended,  not 
 merely  to  the  feehngs  and  thoughts  of  u\en,  but  even  to  their  failings  and 
 their  prejudices !  But  this  very  condescension  (one  of  the  highest  marks 
 of  his  love  to  man),  which  is  exhibited  everywhere  in  the  Bible,  affords 
 subjects  of  derision  to  those  weaklings  who  look  into  the  word  of  God  for 
 displays  of  human  wisdom,  for  the  gratification  of  their  pert  and  idle 
 curiosity,  or  for  the  spirit  of  their  own  times  or  their  own  sect." — 
 Worl-s,  1.  58. 
 
30  THE  CHILDHOOT)  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 be  bom  in  Betlileliem  ;  but  it  matters  little  wnetber  they  -were 
 directed  thither  by  Herod,  or  in.  some  other  way.  At  any  rate, 
 in  so  small  a  place  as  Bethlehem,  they  might  easily  have  been 
 guided  to  the  exact  place  by  providential  means  not  out  of  the 
 common  way  ;  for  instance,  by  meeting  with  some  of  the  shep- 
 herds, or  other  devout  persons,  who  had  taken  part  in  the  great 
 event ;  and  they,  perhaps,  described  the  whole  as  it  appeared 
 to  them  subjectively,  when,  after  reaching  the  abode,  they 
 looked  up  at  the  starry  heavens. 
 
 §  20. — The  3Iassacre  of  the  Iimooents  and  the  Flight  irtio  Egypt. 
 
 The  account  of  the  massacre  of  the  infants  at  Bethlehem 
 cannot  appear  incredible  when  we  consider  the  character  of  the 
 man  to  whom  this  act  of  blind  and  senseless  cruelty,  worthy  of 
 an  insane  tyrant,  is  ascribed. 
 
 It  was  that  Herod,  whose  crimes,  committed  in  violation  of 
 eveiy  natural  feeling,  ever  lu'ged  him  on  to  new  deeds  of  cruelty ; 
 whose  path  to  the  throne,  and  whose  throne  itself,  were  stained 
 with  human  blood  ;  whose  vengeance  against  conspu-ators,  not 
 satiated  with  then."  own  destruction,  demanded  that  of  their 
 whole  families  -^  whose  rage  was  hot,  up  to  the  very  hour  of  his 
 death,  against  liis  nearest  kindred  :  whose  wife,  Mariamne,  and 
 three  sons,  Alexander,  Aristobulus,  and  Antipater,  fell  victims 
 to  his  suspicions,  the  last  just  before  his  death  ;  who,  in  a  word, 
 certainly  desei-ved  that  the  Emperor  Augustus  should  have  said 
 of  him,  '■'■  Herodis  mallem  pwcus  esse,  quam  filius.'''^  It  was  that 
 Herod  who,  at  the  close  of  a  blood-stained  life  of  seventy  years, 
 goaded  by  the  furies  of  an  evil  conscience,  racked  b)^  a  painful 
 and  incurable  disease,  waiting  for  death,  but  desiring  life,  raging 
 against  God  and  man,  and  maddened  by  the  thought  that  the 
 Jews,  instead  of  bewailing  his  death,  woidd  rejoice  over  it  as 
 the  greatest  of  blessings,  commanded  the  worthies  of  the  nation 
 to  be  assembled  in  the  cu-cus,  and  issued  a  secret  order  "^  that, 
 after  his  death,  they  should  all  be  slain  together,  so  that  tlteir 
 kindred,  at  least,  might  have  cause  to  weep  for  his  death.^^ 
 
 ^  Joseph.  Archseol.  xv.  viii.  §  4. 
 
 '  These  words  were  applied,  in  the  fifth  century,  by  an  anachronism  of 
 the  pagan  wi-iter  Macrobius,  to  the  massacre  of  the  infants  at  Bethlehem. 
 Satwrnal.  ii.  4. 
 
 ■"  It  was  never  executed. 
 
 "  Josephus  (Archseol.  xvii.  6,  5)  says  of  him  :  "  MEXoiva  xo\>)  avrbv  ijpti 
 eirl  iraaiv  i^aypiaivovaa."  Even  Schlossei'  admits  (View  of  Ancient 
 History  and  Civilization,  iii.  1,  p.  261)  that  the  account  of  the  massacre 
 of  the  infants,  viewed  in  this  connection,  offers  no  improbability. 
 
THE  RETUHN  TO  NAZARETH.  31 
 
 Can  "we  deem  the  crime  of  sacrificiBg  a  few  cliikli-en  to  liis 
 rage  and  blind  suspicion  too  atrocious  for  such  a  monster  1 
 
 As  we  have  no  reason  to  question  the  narrative  of  the 
 tyrant's  attempts  upon  the  life  of  the  wonderful  child  whose 
 birth  had  come  to  his  ears,  we  can  readily  connect  therewith 
 the  flight  into  Egypt.  On  the  supposition  that  this  flight 
 actually  took  place,  it  was  natural  enough,  especially  with  a 
 view  to  obviate  any  objections  which  the  issuing  of  the  Messiah 
 from  a  profane  land  might  suggest  to  Jewish  minds,  for  men 
 to  seek  analogies  between  this  occurrence  and  the  history  of 
 Moses  and  the  theocratic  people ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
 would  be  absurd  to  suppose  that  a  legend  of  the  flight,  without 
 any  historical  basis,  should  have  had  its  origin  solely  in  the 
 desire  to  find  such  analogies. 
 
 Thus,  in  the  very  beginning  of  the  life  of  Him  who  was  to 
 save  the  world,  we  see  a  foreshadowing  of  what  it  was  after- 
 ward to  be.  The  believing  souls,  to  whom  the  lofty  import  of 
 that  life  was  shown  by  Divine  signs,  saw  in  it  the  fulfilment 
 of  their  longings ;  the  power  of  the  world,  ever  subservient  to 
 evil,  raged  against  it,  but,  amid  all  dangers,  the  hand  of  God 
 guided  and  brought  it  forth  victorious.*^ 
 
 §  21. — The  Retii/m  to  Nazareth. 
 Joseph  and  Mary  remained  but  a  short  time  with  the  child 
 in  Egypt.     The  death  of  Herod  soon  recalled  them  to  Pales- 
 tine, and  they  returned  to  their  old  place  of  abode  the  little 
 town  of  NazarethjP  in  Galilee. 
 
 "  Instead  of  seeing  the  expression  of  the  idea  in  the  facts,  we  might, 
 with  the  ideahstic  ghost-seers,  invert  the  order  of  things,  and  say  that 
 "  the  idea  wrought  itself  into  history  in  the  popular  traditions  "  (whose 
 origin,  by  the  way,  it  would  be  hard  to  explain  after  what  has  been  said) 
 '■'  of  the  Christians."  In  that  case  we  must  consider  every  thing  remark- 
 able, every  scintillation  of  Divinity  in  the  lives  of  individual  men,  as 
 absolutely  fabulous.  This  were,  indeed,  to  degrade  and  atheize  all  liistory 
 and  all  life ;  and  such  is  the  necessary  tendency  of  that  criticism  which 
 rejects  all  immediate  Divine  influence. 
 
 p  It  was  formerly  thought  that  Matthew  and  Luke  contradicted  each 
 other  here.  Luke  states  that  Xazareth  was  the  home  of  Joseph  and 
 Mary,  and  that,  having  gone  to  Bethlehem  for  a  special  purpose  (the 
 taxing),  they  remained  long  enough  to  perform  the  necessary  ceremonies 
 after  the  birth  of  the  chUd,  and  then  returned  home.  According  to 
 Matthew,  Bethlehem  appears  to  have  been  their  settled  place  of  abode,  and 
 they  were  only  induced,  by  special  considerations,  to  betake  themselves  to 
 Nazareth  after  their  return  fi-om  Egypt.  The  apparent  contradiction 
 vanishes  when  we  consider  that  the  memoirs  were  collected  and  written 
 independently  of  each  other. 
 
 Luke  may  have  received  the  account  of  the  journey  of  Christ's  parents 
 
32  THE  CHILDHOOD  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 §  22. — Broilters  and  Sisters  of  Jesm  ;  tlie  Mention  of  tltem  in  ike  Gospel 
 Narrative,  Proof  of  its  Historical  Character. 
 
 Various  scattered  statements  in  the  Evangelists  lead  us  to 
 conclude  tliat  Christ  had  younger  brothers  and  sisters.^  The 
 religious  principles  of  Joseph  and  Mary  offered  no  hindrance 
 to  this;  it  harmonizes  well  with  the  Christian  view  of  the 
 sanctity  of  wedlock ;  nor  is  there  anything  at  vaiiance  "svith  it 
 in  the  authentic  traditions  of  the  apostolic  age. 
 
 But  had  the  miraculous  conception  been  mythical,  the  idea 
 of  later-bom  children  would  have  been  abhorrent  to  the  spirit 
 which  originated  such  a  myth.  In  later  times,  indeed,  this 
 idea  did  appear  abhorrent  to  some  minds;  but  it  still  remains 
 a  mystery  why  the  mythical  spiiit  did  not  exercise  its  power 
 in  remodelling  the  historical  elements. 
 
 It  is  worthy  of  note  that  Mark  and  John  agree  in  statiag 
 that  these  brothers  of  the  Saviour  remained  unbelievers  during 
 his  stay  on  earth,  a  fact  which  illustrates  the  truthfulness  o\ 
 the  history,  since  it  by  no  means  tended  to  glorify  either  Christ 
 or  his  brothers,  one  of  whom,  at  least  (James),  was  in  liigt 
 
 to  Bethlehem,  without  learning  either  their  intention  to  remain  there  witl: 
 the  child,  or  the  cause  that  led  them  to  change  that  intention  ;  while  th« 
 author  of  the  Greek  text  of  Matthew  may  have  adhered  to  the  separate 
 statements  that  were  given  to  him,  in  ignorance  of  the  special  cause  of  the 
 jouraey  to  Bethlehem.  Both  accounts  may  be  equally  true,  and  harmonizt 
 well  with  each  other,  although  those  who  put  them  imperfectly  togethei 
 may  not  perceive  the  argument.  Moreover,  even  in  Matthew  (xiii.  54 
 we  find  Nazareth  named  as  Christ's  "  own  country."  There  is  no  impro 
 bability  in  supposing  that  Joseph  and  Mary  were  induced,  by  the  remark 
 able  events  which  marked  the  birth  of  the  chUd  at  Bethlehem,  and  by  th< 
 revelation  of  his  destiny  that  was  vouchsafed  to  them,  to  fix  their  residence 
 •it  the  seat  of  the  tribe  of  David,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Holy  City ;  bui 
 that  fear  of  Archelaus,  who  emulated  his  father's  cruelty  and  contempt  o 
 holy  things,  led  them  to  change  this  purpose.  This  much  is  certain,  thai 
 Matthew's  statement  of  the  apprehension  which  grew  out  of  Archelaus'i 
 accession  to  the  government  agrees  precisely  with  the  testimony  of  history 
 in  regard  to  that  prince,  who,  in  the  tenth  year  of  his  reign,  was  accusec 
 before  Augustus  of  various  crimes,  and  exiled  to  Vienna. — Joseph,  xvii 
 xiii.  2. 
 
 1  The  word  twc,  in  Matt.  i.  25,  in  connection  with  the  statement  thai 
 Jesus  was  Mary's  first-born,  leads  us  to  infer  Matthew's  knowledge 
 of  children  subsequently  born  to  her  (conf.  De  WMe  on  the  passage), 
 which  we  the  more  certainly  conclude,  as  the  same  Evangelist  mentions 
 brothers  and  sisters  of  Jesus  especially,  together  with  his  mother. — Set 
 Matt.  xiii.  55.  This  view  is  the  most  natural  in  such  passages  as  name 
 them  together,  c.  g.  Luke  viii.  21  ;  Mark  iii.  31  ;  Jolin  ii.  12  ;  vii.  3, 
 It  would  be  forced  work  indeed  to  suppose  that  in  all  these  passages 
 ahX^oi  is  placed  for  dvi^ioi. 
 
CHRIST  AMONG  THE  DOCTORS.  33 
 
 repute  among  the  Jewish  Christians.  It  is  not  to  be  won- 
 dered at  that  tJie  propJcet  teas  toithout  honour  among  those  who 
 dwelt  mider  the  same  roof,  and  saw  him  grow  np  under  the 
 same  laws  of  ordinary  human  nature  with  themselves.  Tiaie, 
 this  daily  contact  afforded  them  many  opportmiities  of  behold- 
 ing the  Divinity  that  streamed  through  the  veil  of  liis  flesh, 
 yet  it  required  a  spuitual  mind  and  a  lively  faith  to  recognize 
 the  revealed  Son  of  God  in  the  lowly  garb  of  humanity.  The 
 impression  of  humanity  made  upon  their  senses  day  after  day, 
 and  thus  grown  into  a  habit,  could  not  be  made  to  yield  to  the 
 Divine  manifestations,  unless  in  longer  time  than  was  required 
 for  others;  but  when  it  did  yield,  and,  after  such  long- 
 continued  opposition,  they  acknowledged  then-  brother  as  the 
 Son  of  God  and  the  Messiah,  they  only  became  thereby  the 
 more  tnistworthy  witnesses. 
 
 §  '2Z.—Cons.c'iousn<:ss  of  Mci^slahiship  lib  ihe  Mind  of  Jesus. — Jtms  among  the 
 boctors. 
 
 The  extraordinary  circumstances  of  the  birth  of  Christ  not 
 only  served  as  portents  of  the  greatest  event  in  the  world's 
 history,  but  also,  perhaps,  furnished  external  occasions  for  the 
 develojiment,  in  the  mind  of  Jesus,  of  the  consciousness  of  liis 
 Messiahship.  True,  this  development,  far  from  admitting  of 
 mechanical  illustrations,  required,  above  all,  an  inward  light  in 
 the  depths  of  the  higher  self-consciousness,  the  internal  testi- 
 mony of  the  Spirit;  but  sucli  a  testimony  by  no  means 
 precludes  the  agency  of  external  impressions,  acting  a,s  suggestive 
 occasions.  The  inward  Divine  Ught  and  the  revelation  from 
 outward  events  touch  upon  each  other;  and  this  connexion 
 between  the  internal  and  the  external  belongs  to  the  essence 
 of  ]">urely  human  development.'^ 
 
 Of  the  early  history  of  Jesus  we  have  only  a  single  incident ; 
 l)ut  that  incident  strikingly  illustrates  the  manner  in  which 
 the  consciousness  of  his  Di\dne  nature  developed  itself  in  the 
 mind  of  the  child.  Jesus  had  attained  his  twelfth  year,  a 
 ]ieriod  which  was  regarded  among  the  Jews  as  the  dividing 
 line  between  chUdhood  and  youth,  and  at  which  regular 
 religious  instruction  and  the  study  of  the  Law  were  generally 
 entered  upon.  For  that  reason,  his  parents,  who  were  accustomed  * 
 
 '  Weisae  maintains  {I  cannot  see  on  what  grounds)  that  this  view- 
 decades  the  Divine  element  in  the  inner  calling  oi  Christ  to  a  mechanical 
 result  of  circumstances,  p.  12(54. 
 
 '  Luke  (ii.  42)  says,  "  that  they  went  to  Jertiscdem  every  year  at  the  feast 
 if  the  Passorer."     This  may  mean  either  that  Joseph  attended  yearly  no 
 
 D 
 
34  THE  CHILDHOOD  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 to  visit  Jenisalem  together*'  annually  at  the  time  of  the 
 Passover,  took  him  with  them  then  for  the  first  time.  "When 
 the  feast  was  over,  and  they  were  setting  out  on  their 
 return,  they  missed  their  son ;  this,  however,  does  not  seem  to 
 have  alarmed  them,  and  pci-haps  he  was  accustomed  to  remain 
 with  certain  kindred  families  or  friends;  indeed,  we  are  told 
 (Luke  ii.  44)  that  they  expected  to  find  him  "  in  the  company," 
 at  the  evening  halt  of  the  caravan.  Disappointed  in  this 
 expectation,  they  retm-ned  the  next  morning  to  Jerusalem, 
 and  on  the  following  day  found  him  in  the  synagogue  of  the 
 Temple  among  the  priests,  who  had  been  led  by  his  questions 
 into  a  conversation  on  points  of  faith.^  His  parents  re- 
 proached him  for  the  uneasiuess  he  had  caused  them,  and  he 
 replied,  "  Why  did  you  seek  Tne  ?  Did  you  not  know  that  I 
 micst  he  cdout  my  Fathers  business  ? "  jSTow  these  words  of 
 Jesus  contain  no  explanation,  beyond  his  tender  years,^'  of  the 
 relations  which  he  sustained  to  the  Father;  they  manifest 
 simply  the  consciousness  of  a  child,  a  depth,  to  be  sure,  but  yet 
 only  a  depth  of  presentiment. 
 
 We  can  draw  various  important  inferences  from  this  inci- 
 dent in  the  early  life  of  Christ.  At  a  tender  age  he  studied 
 the  Old  Testament,  and  obtained  a  better  knowledge  of  its 
 religious  value  by  the  light  that  was  within  him  than  any 
 human  instruction  could  have  imparted.  Nor  was  this 
 beaming  forth  of  an  immediate  consciousness  of  Divine  tilings 
 in  the  mind  of  the  child,  in  advance  of  the  development  of  his 
 powers  of  discursive  reason,  at  all  alien  to  the  character  and 
 progress  of  human  nature,  but  entirely  in  harmony  Avith  it. 
 
 other  feast  but  this,  which  would  imply  that  it  was  not  the  general  custom 
 in  Galilee  to  attend  the  three  chief  feasts  at  Jerusalem,  or  that  Mary  used 
 to  accompany  htm  to  this  feast  only.  In  either  case,  it  proves  the  peculiar 
 eminence  of  the  Passover. 
 
 '  Mary  accompanied  her  husband,  although  the  Jewish  law  did  not 
 demand  it. 
 
 "  How  little  of  the  mythical  there  is  in  this  may  be  seen  from  the  case 
 of  Josephus,  who  states  of  himself,  that  when  he  was  fourteen  years  olii 
 the  priest.8  of  the  city  met  with  him  to  put  questions  to  him  about  the 
 law. 
 
 '  The  addition  of  extravagant  and  fabulous  colourings  to  historical 
 elements  may  be  seen  in  such  instances  as  the  following  from  Irenaeus,  on 
 the  childhood  of  Jesus,  taken  out  of  an  apocryphal  Gospel  originating 
 in  Palestine  :  "  When  the  teacher  told  the  boy  to  pronounce  A  leph,  he  did 
 so.  But  when  he  told  him  to  say  Beth,  the  child  replied,  '  Tell  me  the 
 meaning  oi  Aleph,  and  then  I  will  tell  you  what  Beth  is  '  "  (an  allusion  to 
 the  mystical  import  of  the  letters,  according  to  the  Kabbala).  There  was 
 any  number  of  such  apocrj'phal  Gospels,  as  Irenasus  says. 
 
CHRIST  AMONG  THE  DOCTORS.  3i> 
 
 Nor  need  we  wonder  that  the  infinite  riches  of  the  hidden 
 spiritual  life  of  the  child  first  manifested  themselves  to  his 
 consciousness,  as  if  suggested  by  his  conversation  A\ath  the 
 doctors,  and  that  his  direct  intuitions  of  Di\TJie  truth,  the 
 flashes  of  spiritual  light  that  emanated  from  him,  amazed  the 
 masters  in  Israel.  It  not  unfrequontly  happens,  in  our  human 
 life,  that  the  questions  of  others  are  thus  suggestive  to  great 
 minds,  and,  like  steel  xipon  the  flint,  di-aw  forth  their  inner 
 light,  at  the  same  time  revealing  to  their  o^vn  souls  the 
 imknoA^Ti  treasures  that  lay  in  their  hidden  depths.  But  they 
 give  more  than  they  receive;  the  outward  suggestion  only 
 excites  to  action  their  creative  energy ;  and  men  of  reflective 
 and  receptive,  rather  than  creative  minds,  by  inciting  the  latter 
 to  know  and  develop  their  vast  resources,  may  not  only  learn 
 much  fi.-om  their  utterance,  but  also  difiuse  the  streams  which 
 gush  with  overflo'Nving  fulness  from  these  abundant  well-springs. 
 And  these  remarks  ajiphdng — in  a  sense  in  which  they  apply 
 to  no  other — to  that  mind,  lofty  beyond  all  human  comparison, 
 whose  creative  thoughts  are  to  fertilize  the  spii'itual  life  of  man 
 thi'ough  all  ages,  and  whose  creative  power  sprang  from  its 
 mysteiious  union  with  that  Di\-ine  Word,  wliich  gave  bii-th  to 
 all  things,  show  us  that  His  consciousness  developed  itself 
 gradually,  and  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  laws  of  human 
 life,  from  that  mysterious  union  wliich  formed  its  gi'ound. 
 
 And  further — wtliout  in  the  least  attempting  to  do  away 
 with  the  peculiar  form  of  the  chilcVs  spiritual  life — ^we  can 
 recognize  in  this  incident  a  dawning  sense  of  liis  Di^dne  mis- 
 sion in  the  mind  of  Jesus :  a  sense,  however,  not  yet  unfolded 
 in  the  form  in  which  the  conniption  of  the  world,  objectively 
 presented,  alone  coidd  occasion  its  development.  The  child 
 found  congenial  occupation  in  the  things  of  God  :  in  the 
 Temple  he  was  at  home.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  we  see  an 
 opening  consciousness  of  the  peculiar  relation  in  which  he 
 stood  to  the  Father  as  the  Son  of  God.  We  deUght  to  find  in 
 the  ea,rly  lives  of  eminent  men  some  glimpses  of  the  future, 
 some  indications  of  their  after  greatness ;  so  Ave  gladly  recog- 
 nize, in  the  pregnant  words  of  the  cliild,  a  foreshadowing  of 
 what  is  afterward  so  fully  revealed  to  us  in  the  discourses  of 
 the  completely  manifested  Christ,  especially  as  they  are  given 
 to  us  in  John's  Gospel. 
 
 D  2 
 
BOOK   11. 
 
 THE  MENTAL  CULTURE  OF  JESUS.    HIS  LIFE 
 TO  THE  TIME  OF  HIS  PUBLIC  MINISTRY. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 JESUS  >'0T  EDUCATED  IN  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SCHOOLS  OF  THE  JEWS. 
 
 We  have  already  seen  that  in  the  early  progi'ess  of  the 
 mind  of  Christ  everything  was  original  and  dii-ect,  and  that 
 external  occasions  were  needed  only  to  hrhxg  out  his  inward 
 self-activity.  As  we  must  suppose  that  his  development  was 
 subsequently  continued  in  the  same  way,  we  come  at  once  to 
 tlie  conclusion  that  His  education  for  a  teacher  was  not  due  to 
 any  of  the  theological  schools  then  existing  in  Judea.  But  we 
 can  reach  this  conclusion  also  by  compaiing  the  ]ieculiar  ten- 
 dencies of  those  schools  with  the  aims  of  Christ,  with  his  mode 
 of  life  and  instruction,  and  with  the  spirit  which  he  diflFused 
 around  him. 
 
 §  2L—The  Pharisees. 
 
 In  the  outset,  how  unlike  Clirist  was  the  legal  spirit  of 
 Pharisaism,  Avith  its  soul-crushing  statutes,  its  dead  theology 
 of  the  letter,  and  its  barren  subtilties !  Some  few  of  the  sect, 
 endowed  with  a  more  earnest  religious  sense,  and  a  more 
 sincere  love  of  tiiith  than  their  fellows,  could  not  resist  the 
 impression  of  Christ's  Divine  manifestation  ;  but  they  c:ime  to 
 liim  with  a  full  knowledge  of  the  difference  between  his  mode 
 of  teachiug  and  theirs,  and  not  as  a  teachei'  sprung  froiu  among 
 themselves.  They  had  iirst  to  overcome  their  surprise  at  his 
 strange  and  extraordinary  language,  before  they  could  enter 
 into  closer  connexion  with  liim.  They  had  to  renounce  the 
 wisdom  (-f  their  schools,  to  disclaim  their  legal  righteousness, 
 and  to  attach  themselves  to  Christ  witli  the  same  sense  of 
 deficiency  in  themselves,  and  the  same  desire  for  what  he  alone 
 could  impart,  as  aU  other  men. 
 
 §  15.— The  Sadducccs. 
 The  spii'it  of  the  Sadducces  presents  a  still  more  rugged 
 contrast  to  the  sjtirit  of  ChrLst.    Their  schools  agreed  ia  nothing 
 
THE  SADDUCEES.  37 
 
 but  denying  ;  their  only  bond  of  union  was  opposition  to  the 
 Pharisees,  against  whom  they  strove  to  re-establish  the  original 
 Hebraism,  freed  from  the  foreign  elements  which  the  Pharisaic 
 statutes  had  mixed  up  with  it.  But  an  agreement  in  negation 
 can  be  only  an  apparent  one,  if  the  negation  rests  upon  an 
 opposite  positive  principle.  Thus  certain  negative  doctrines, 
 that  agree  with  Protestantism  in  rejecting  the  authority  and 
 traditions  of  the  Romish  Church,  separate  themselves  further 
 from  Protestantism  than  the  Romish  doctrine  itself,  by  the 
 affirmative  princij)^  on  which  they  rest  their  denial,  and  by 
 carrying  that  denial  too  far.  The  single  positive  principle  of 
 Sadduceeism  was  the  one-sided  prominence  given  by  them  to 
 morality,  which  they  separated  from  its  necessary  inward  Tinion 
 with  religion.  But  Christ's  combat  wth  the  Pharisees  arose 
 out  of  the  fullest  inter  penetration  of  the  moral  and  religious 
 elements.  The  Sadducees  wish  to  cut  off  the  progressive 
 developement  of  Hebraism  at  an  ai'bitrary  point.  They  re- 
 fused to  recognize  the  gi'owing  consciousness  of  God,  wliich, 
 derived  from  the  Mosaic  institute,  formed  a  substantial  feature 
 of  Judaism,  and  hence  could  not  comprehend  the  higher  reli- 
 gious element  from  wliich,  as  a  germ,  under  successive  Di\nne 
 revelations,  the  spiritual  life  of  Judaism  was  to  be  gradually 
 developed.^'  Rejecting  all  such  gi-owth  as  foreign  and-  false, 
 they  held  a  subordinate  and  isolated  point  to  be  absolute  and 
 peri)etual  ]  adliering  to  the  letter  rather  than  the  spirit.     To 
 
 "  See  below  for  the  way  in  which  Christ  ilhistrated  this  to  the  Saddu- 
 cees. As  to  the  Canon,  it  cannot  be  actually  proved  that  the  Sadducees 
 held  it  differently  from  other  Jews.  It  is  true,  Josephus  says  (Arclipeol. 
 xiii.  X.  G),  that  they  rejected  everything  but  the  Mosaic  law — uKip  ovk 
 avaykypaTTTai  iv  ro7c  Mtuiifftwe  vof-ioiQ.  But  the  Mosaic  law  is  not  here 
 opposed  to  the  rest  of  the  Canon,  but  to  oral  traditions  ;  and  the  only 
 question  was  whether  the  Mosaic  law  alone,  or  in  connection  with  oral 
 tradition,  was  to  l)e  held  as  authority  for  religious  usages.  The  remaining 
 books  of  the  Old  Testament  were  not  in  dispute,  as  no  religious  usages  at 
 all  were  derived  from  them.  Still,  it  is  not  unlikely  that  the  Sadducees 
 went  so  far  in  their  opposition  to  Pharisai.sm,  as  to  reject  all  doctrines 
 that  could  not  be  shown  to  have  a  Mosaic  origin,  and  to  consider  the  Pen- 
 tateuch as  the  sole,  or,  at  least,  the  chief,  source  of  religious  truth.  As 
 we  find  such  views  of  the  Canon  among  the  Jewish-Christian  sects  (Cf.  the 
 Clementims)  we  may  infer  that  they  previously  existed  among  the  Jews. 
 They  woulil  hardly  have  denied  Immortality  and  the  Eesun-ection,  if  they 
 had  held  the  prophets  to  be  law  in  the  same  sense  as  the  Pentateuch  ; 
 although  it  is  possible  that  they  interpreted  such  passages  of  the  Prophets 
 in  another  way.  The  general  terms  in  which  Josephus  speaks  of  the 
 recognition  of  the  Canon  among  the  Jews  (i.  c.  Apion,  §  8)  do  not  suffice  to 
 prove  that  there  were  no  difierences  in  this  respect  in  the  different  sects. 
 
38  CULTURE  OF  JESUS. 
 
 the  forced  allegorizing  of  the  Pharisees  in  interpreting  the 
 Scripture,  they  opposed  a  slavishly  literal  and  narrow  exegesis. 
 But  Christ,  on  the  other  hand,  while  he  rejected  the  Pharisaic 
 traditions,  received  into  his  doctrines  all  the  riches  of  Di^^.ne 
 knowledge,  wliich  the  progressive  growth  of  Theism,  up  to  the 
 time  of  John  the  Baptist,  had  brought  forth.  His  agreement, 
 then,  with  the  Sadducees,  consisting,  as  it  did,  solely  in  oppo- 
 sition to  Pliai-isaism,  was  merely  negative  and  apparent. 
 
 Some  have  detected  an  affinity  between  the  moral  teaching 
 of  Christ  and  the  Anti-Eud(emonisni  of  the  Sadducees,  the 
 principle,  namely,  that  man  must  do  good  for  its  own  sake, 
 Avithout  the  hope  of  futui-e  recompense.^  But  here,  again, 
 Christianity  agrees  -svith  Sadduceeism  only  in  what  it  denies, 
 not  in  what  it  affirms.  The  divine  life  of  Christianity  has  no 
 more  affinity  for  that  selfish  Eudaemonism  wliich  seeks  the  good 
 as  means  to  an  end,  than  for  the  spirit  of  Sadduceeism  which 
 denies  the  higher  aims  of  moral  action,  and  makes  it  altogether 
 "  of  the  earth,  earthly."  These  opposite  ciTors  sprang  from 
 one  common  source,  namely,  the  debasement  of  the  spiritual 
 life  into  worldliness,  and  therefore  Christianity  is  alike  antago- 
 nistic to  them  both,  whether  seen  in  the  worldly  admission  of 
 a  future  life  by  the  Pharisees,  or  in  its  worldly  rejection  by  the 
 Sadducees.  Yet  in  the  doctrine  of  the  former,  it  must  be 
 admitted,  lay  a  germ  of  truth  which  only  needed  to  be  freed 
 from  selfish  and  sensual  tendencies  to  show  itself  in  its  full 
 spiritual  import.y 
 
 §  26.—!Phe  Essmes. 
 
 The  secrecy  which  the  sect  of  the  Essenes  affected  has  given 
 rise  to  many  subtle  and  ax-bitrary  hypotheses.  Some  have 
 found  in  its  ardent  religious  spirit  ground  for  believing  in  a 
 
 ^  No  reliance  is  to  be  placed  in  the  Talnludic  tradition  in  Pirlcc  Ahoth, 
 i.  3,  according^  to  which  the  principle  thus  perverted  to  the  denial  of  a 
 future  life  came  from  Antigonus  Ish  Socho,  or  Simeon  the  Just.  The 
 prevalent  orthodoxy  was  always  inclined  to  ascribe  error  to  the  perversion 
 of  some  orthodox  doctrine. 
 
 f  Dr.  Vo7).  Culln  arrives  at  the  conclusion  that  "the  moral  philosophy  of 
 the  Sadducees  was  better  than  that  of  the  Pharisees,  because  the  New 
 Testament  does  not  attack  their  moral  principles,  but  only  their  denial  of 
 the  Resurrection. " — (Bibl.  Theol.  i.  450.)  We  do  not  acbiiit  the  inference. 
 This  silence  of  the  New  Testament  can  be  readily  accounted  for  on  the 
 ground  that  Sadduceeism  had  few  points  in  commcm  with  Christianity; 
 an  1  while  it  was  necessary  to  p:uard  men  frequently  against  Pharisaic 
 abuses  of  great  truths  (e.  g.,  of  the  truth  that  morality  and  religion  arc 
 inseparable),  the  open  contrast  of  Sadduceeism  made  such  special  contro- 
 versy with  its  teachers  unnecessary. 
 
THE  ESSENES.  39 
 
 connexion  between  it  and  Christianity/  This  ai-gument,  by 
 proving  too  much,  proves  nothing ;  on  the  same  principle  -we 
 might  show  a  connexion  between  Christianity  and  eveiy  form 
 imder  which  mysticism  has  appeared  and  reappeared  in  the 
 history  of  religion.  But  there  were  other  points  of  simi- 
 larity between  Essenism  and  Christianity,  besides  this  mystic 
 element  which  has  its  source  in  man's  native  religious  tenden- 
 cies. Essenism  grew  out  of  Judaism,  and  was  pervaded  by  a 
 moral  belief  in  God,  a  sph-it  which  was  nourished  and  strength- 
 ened by  habits  of  seclusion  from  the  stir  of  life,  of  rehgious 
 communion,  and  of  quiet  prayer  and  meditation.  Other  resem- 
 blances may  be  discovered  between  Essenism  and  the  doctrine 
 of  Christ,  or  the  forms  of  the  first  Christian  communities  ;  but 
 they  may  be  traced,  like  those  just  mentioned,  to  sources  com- 
 mon to  both,  and  therefore  afford  no  proof  of  a  real  connexion 
 between  them.  A  closer  examination  will  demonstrate  that 
 the  similarities  were  only  apparent,  while  the  difierences  were 
 essential. 
 
 For  instance,  the  Essenes  prohibited  oatlis,  and  so  did  Christ. 
 Here  is  a  resemblance.  But  the  former,  confounding  the 
 spirit  with  the  letter,  made  the  prohibition — wliich  grew  out 
 of  their  rule  of  absolute  veracity  and  mutual  confidence  in  each 
 other — a  positive  law,  unconditionally  binding,  not  only  -within 
 their  own  community,  but  in  the  general  intercourse  of  life. 
 Christ  proliibited  oaths,  on  the  other  hand,  not  by  an  enact- 
 ment binding  only  from  without,  but  by  a  law  developing  it.self 
 outwardly  from  the  new  spii'itual  life  which  he  himself  im- 
 planted in  his  followers.  Paul  loiew  that  an  asseveration,  made 
 for  right  ends,  and  in  the  spirit  of  Chi'ist's  command,  was  no 
 ■\"iolation  of  that  command. 
 
 Again,  the  law  of  the  Essenes  prohibited  slaver^/,  and  so  was 
 Christ's  intended  to  subvert  it.  The  sect  agreed  with  the  Sa- 
 Tioiu-  in  seeing  that  all  men  alike  bear  the  image  of  God,  and 
 that  none  can  have  the  right,  by  holding  theii*  fellows  as  pro- 
 perty, to  degrade  that  image  into  a  brute  or  a  chattel.  So 
 far  Essenism  and  Christianity  agree ;  but  see  wherein  they 
 differ.  The  one  was  a  foi-mula  for  a  small  circle  of  devotees  j 
 the  other  was  a  system  for  the  regeneration  of  mankind :  the 
 one  made  positive  enactments,  acting  by  pressure  from  with- 
 
 '  First  alluded  to  in  an  unpublished  treatise  of  /.  G.  Wachter,  De  Pri- 
 mwdiis  Christiame  Heligionu,  libri  duo.  See,  especially,  Reinliard's 
 Versuch  iiber  den  Plan  Jesu  (Keinhard's  Plan  of  the  Founder  of  Chris- 
 tianity, translated  by  A.  Kaufman,  Andover). 
 
40  CULTURE  OF  JESUS. 
 
 out ;  the  other  implanted  new  moral  principles,  to  work  from 
 within :  the  one  put  its  law  in  force  at  once,  and  declared  that 
 no  slave  could  be  held  in  its  communion ;  the  other  gave  no 
 direct  command  upon  the  subject.  Yet  the  whole  sj)irit  of 
 Christ's  teac-hing  tended  to  create  in  men's  minds  a  moral  sense 
 of  the  evil  of  a  relation  so  utterly  subversive  of  all  that  is  good 
 in  humanity,  and  thus  to  eftect  its  entire  abolition. 
 
 Let  us  take  another  ayjparent  resemblance.  The  Essenes 
 devoted  themselves  much  to  liealiiif)  the  sick,  and  so  did  Christ 
 (and  the  gift  of  healing  was  impai'ted  to  the  first  congi*ega- 
 tions) ;  but  the  agencies  wliich  they  em]:»loyed  were  essentially 
 diiiei'ent.  They  made  use  of  natural  remedies,  draAvn  fi-oni  the 
 vegetaljle  and  mineral  kingdoms,  and  handed  down  the  know- 
 ledge thereof  in  their  books;-'  but  the  Sa^dour  and  his  apostles 
 wrought  their  cures  by  no  intermediate  agents,  but  by  the 
 dii-ect  operation  of  power  from  on  high.'>  Even  when  Christ 
 (hd  make  use  of  physical  means,  the  results  were  always  out  of 
 proportion  to  them. 
 
 Finally,  let  us  compare  the  scope  of  Essemsm,  as  a  whole, 
 with  the  aims  of  Christ's  mission.  Essenism,  probably  origi- 
 nating in  a  commingling  of  Judaism  Avith  the  old  Oriental*^ 
 theosophy,  manifested  a  spirit  at  once  monkish  and  schismatic.'^ 
 How  strong  a  contrast  does  such  a  system  present  to  the  active 
 spii'it  of  the  Gospel,  aiming  only  to  implant  holy  feelings,  and 
 so  to  secm'e  holy  lives,  seeking  every^vhere  for  needy  souls, 
 and,  wherever  the  need  appears,  pom-ing  forth  its  exhaustless 
 treasures  without  stint !  Such  a  spirit  bi'oke  away  at  once  the 
 wall  of  separation  between  man  and  man,  which  the  aristocratic 
 
 ■  Joseph.  B.  J.  ii.  viii.  6  :  tv6tv  (i.  e.  from  old  writings)  avTolc  irpoQ 
 ^tpmrdav  TraQiov  f'>i'S.tii  n  uXt'iiTijpwi  Kcti  XiOior  Ici6t7]T(c:  aviptin>Mi'Tai. 
 
 ■>  Cf.  what  is  said  further  on,  under  tlie  head  of  "Tlie  Miracles  of 
 Christ." 
 
 *  Some  modem  writers  piefer  to  derive  Essenism  fi-om  Alexandrian 
 Platonism  transplanted  into  Palestine,  but  I  can  find  no  proof  that  their 
 view  explains  the  general  character  or  the  individu.al  features  of  Esseiii.sm 
 as  well  as  that  in  the  text.  Moreover,  I  remain  of  the  opinion  that  the 
 doctrines  of  the  Therapciitce  and  the  £asen(s  were  allied,  but  independent 
 religious  tendencies. 
 
 ■I  I  can  give  no  other  translation  than  the  following  to  the  jxassage  m 
 Josephus  (Archieol.  xviii.  i.  5)  which  speaks  of  the  E.ssenes.  It  will  be 
 seen  that  I  take  the  word  ilpyitfttroi,  not  in  the  passive,  but  in  the  viiddk 
 sense.  "  They  send,  it  is  true,  their  offerings  to  the  tenii)le.  Init  they 
 bring  no  sacrifices,  because  they  so  greatly  prefer  their  own  way  of  puri- 
 fying and  sanctifying  themselves  ;  and,  for  fear  of  defilement  by  taking  part 
 with  the  rest  of  the  people,  they  keep  away  from  the  common  sanctuary, 
 and  make  their  sacrifices  apart,  surrounded  only  by  the  initiated." 
 
Christ's  teaching  from  witiiix.  41 
 
 and  exclusive  spiritual  life  of  Essenism  was  ever  striving  to 
 build  up. 
 
 §  27. — Supposed  Injluence  of  the  Alexandrian- Jewish  Doctrines. 
 A  few  words  iu  regard  to  the  supposed  influence  of  the 
 doctrines  of  the  Alexandrian  Jews  upon  Christ's  culture.  Even, 
 admitting  that  these  doctrines  penetrated  into  Palestine,  it  can 
 by  no  means  be  presupposed  that  they  entered  into  Galdee, 
 and  especially  into  the  naiTow  circle  of  the  common  people^ 
 within  wliich  he  was  educated.  Tlie  groimds  on  wlrich  some 
 profess  to  find  traces  of  such  an  influence  in  the  discourses  of 
 Christ  would  serve  as  well  to  prove  that  Chi-istianity  derived 
 its  origin  from  Bi'ama  or  Buddhu.*^ 
 
 §  2S. — Affinity  of  Christianity,  as  absolute  Truth,  for  the  various  oppodiv) 
 Religious  Systems. 
 
 On  the  dissolution  of  Judaism,  its  elements,  oi-iginally  joined 
 together  in  a  living  unity,  necessarily  pi'oduced  A-arious  religious 
 tendencies,  which  mutually  opposed  and  excluded  each  other. 
 In  all  these  we  can  find  something  akiu  to  the  new  creation  of 
 Christianity.  And  wherever  Christianity  appears  for  the  first 
 time,  or  reveals  itself  anew  in  its  o^^^^  glory,  it  must  offer  some 
 points  of  affinity  for  the  different  opposing  systems.  The  living, ' 
 perfect  truth  has  points  of  tangency  for  the  one-sided  forms  of 
 error;  though  we  may  not  be  thereby  enabled  to  put  together 
 the  perfect  whole  from  the  scattered  and  repellent  fragments. 
 
 i 
 
 §  29. — Christ's  Teaching  revealed  from  within,  not  received  from- without. 
 Had  the  source  of  Christ's  mighty  power  been  merely  a  doc- 
 trine, it  might  have  been  received,  or  at  least  suggested,  from 
 abroad.  But  his  power  lay  in  the  impression  which  his  mani- 
 festation and  life  as  the  Incarnate  God  produced  ;  and  iki^ 
 coidd  never  have  been  derived  from  without.  ^  The  peculiar 
 import  of  his  doctrine,  as  such,  consists  in  its  relation  to  him- 
 self as  a  part  of  liis  self-revelation,  an  image  of  his  unox-iginated 
 and  inherent  life ;  and  tliis  alone  suffices  to  defy  all  attempts 
 at  external  explanation. 
 
 •^  Cf.  my  Kirchengeschichte,  2nd  edit.,  parti.,  for  the  relation  between 
 the  Alexandrian  theology  and  Christianity. 
 
 '  We  recall  hero  the  profound  sentiment  of  a  prophetic  German  mind  : 
 "  The  pearl  of  C'hristianity  is  a  life  hidden  in  God,  a  truth  in  Christ  the 
 Mediator,  a  jiower  which  consists  neither  in  word.i  and  forms,  nor  in  dogma-i 
 and  outward  acts  ;  it  cannot,  therefore,  be  valued  by  the  common  standards 
 of  logic  or  ethics." — Ilamann,  iv.  285. 
 
42  CULTURE  OF  JESUS. 
 
 §  30. — The  Popular  Sentiment  in  regard  to  Ch-isVs  Connection  with  the 
 Schools. 
 
 Had  Jesus  been  trained  in  tlie  Jewish  seminaries,?  his  oppo- 
 nents would,  doubtless,  have  reproached  him  Avith  the  arrogance 
 of  setting  up  for  master  where  he  himself  had  been  a  pupil. 
 But,  on  the  contrary,  we  find  that  they  censiu-ed  him  for  at- 
 tempting to  explain  the  Scriptures  without  having  enjoyed  the 
 advantages  of  the  schools  (John  vii.  15).  His  first  appearance 
 as  a  teacher  in  the  synagogue  at  Kazareth  caused  even  gx'eater 
 surprise,  as  he  was  known  there,  not  as  one  leai'ned  in  the 
 Law,  but  rather  as  a  carpenter's  son,  who  had,  perhaps,  himself 
 worked  at  his  father's  trade. '^     The  general  impression  of  his 
 
 E  Dr.  Paulus  supposes  that  Christ,  because  he  was  called  Rahhi,  not  only 
 by  his  disciples,  but  by  the  distinguished  Rabbi  Nicodemus,  and  even  by 
 his  enemies  (John  vi.  25),  obtained  that  title  in  the  way  usual  among  the 
 Jews  ;  and  he  intimates  that  Christ  studied  with  tlie  rabbis  of  the  Essenes, 
 and  perhaps  obtained  the  degree  from  them  (Life  of  Christ,  i.  1,  122).  But 
 when  we  remember  that  he  stood  at  the  head  of  a  party  which  recognized 
 his  prophetic  character,  we  can  see  why  others,  who  did  not  recognize  it, 
 would  yet  c.ill  him  their  master,  e.  g.,  Matt.  xvii.  2i  ;  6  hcdrXKoXo^  vfioJv. 
 Nicodemus,  however,  did  really  acknowledge  him  as  a  Di'i'ine  teacher  ;  nor 
 were  those  who  addressed  him  as  Rahhi,  in  John  vi.  25,  by  any  means  his 
 enemies.  This  style  of  address,  therefore,  does  not  imply  his  possession  of 
 a  title  from  a  Jewish  tribunal,  but  rather  arose  in  the  circle  of  followers 
 that  he  gathered  aroimd  him.  As  to  the  Essenes,  it  cannot  be  proved  that 
 they  created  rabbis,  as  did  the  Jewish  synagogues  ;  and  if  they  did,  such 
 titles  would  hardly  be  recognized  by  the  prevailing  party,  the  Pharisees. 
 
 ''  It  cannot  be  decided  certainly  that  this  was  the  case.  There  was  a 
 tradition  in  primitive  Christian  times  to  that  effect ;  so  Justin  Martyr 
 Dialog,  c.  Tryph.  316)  says :  ravra  rit  TtKToviKa  ipya  ilpyd'Ciro  iv 
 dvOpuiiroiQ  wv,  Kai  Kvydj  Sid  tovtuiv  kui  rd  Trjg  ciKaiotrvi'rig  avfifoXa 
 ciSd(TK(ov  Kai  tvkpytj  (3iov.  It  may  be  that  this,  and  the  tradition,  also, 
 that  Christ  was  destitute  of  personal  beauty,  were  rather  ideal  than  histo- 
 rical conceptions,  framed  to  conform  with  his  humble  condition  "  in  the  form 
 of  a  servant. ' '  Christ  was  not  to  come  forth  from  a  high  position,  but  from 
 a  lowly  workshop  ;  as,  according  to  the  reproach  of  Celsus,  liis  first  followers 
 were  mechanics.  But  the  report  may  have  been  true,  and  was,  if  the 
 ordinary  reading  of  Mark  vi.  3  be  correct.  Against  this  has  been  adduced 
 the  following  passage  in  Ong.  cont.  Ctls.  vi.  36,  viz.  :  on  ovcafiov  riliv  iv 
 ratr  tKKXrjffiaic  (pipofitviov  ivayyeXiujv  TCKToiy  aijTog  o  'l/jirorf  dvayf.- 
 ypmrrai.  The  reading  in  Mark  vi.  3  may  have  been  altered  before  the 
 time  of  Origen,  from  a  false  pride  that  took  offence  at  Christ's  working  as 
 a  common  mechanic,  and  a  foolish  desire  to  conciliate  the  pagans,  who 
 reproached  Christians  with  tliis  feature  in  the  life  of  their  founder.  Fntz.<>cJie 
 founds  an  ineffectual  argument  on  the  following  internal  ground,  viz.  : 
 "  Christ's  working  at  a  trade  would  not  have  interfered  witli  his  appearing 
 as  a  public  teacher.  The  Jews  had  no  contempt  for  artizans,  and  even  the 
 scribes  sometimes  supported  themselves  by  mechanical  toils. ' '  True,  the 
 scribes  might  occasionally  work   at  trades  without  reproach,   but  to  be 
 
CONSCIOUSNESS  OF  MESSIAHSHIP.  43 
 
 (liscoxirses  every^vhere  was,  that  they  contained  totally  different 
 materials  from  those  furnished  by  the  theological  schools 
 (Matt.  vii.  29). 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 COURSE     OF     CHKIST's     LIFE     UP    TO     THE     OPENING   OF    HIS 
 
 PUBLIC   MINISTRY. 
 
 §  31. — Grouing  Consciousness  of  His  MesslaMldp  in  Christ. 
 
 Although  so  many  years  of  our  Saviour's  life  are  veiled  in 
 obscurity,  we  cannot  believe  that  the  full  consciousness  of  a 
 Di\Tine  call,  which  he  displayed  in  his  later  years,  was  of  sudden 
 growth.  If  a  great  man  accomplishes,  within  a  very  brief 
 period,  labours  of  paramount  importance  to  the  world,  and 
 which  he  himself  regards  as  the  task  of  his  life,  we  must  pre- 
 sume that  the  strength  and  energies  of  his  previous  years  were 
 concentrated  into  that  limited  period,  and  that  the  former  only 
 constituted  a  time  of  preparation  for  the  latter. 
 
 Most  of  all  must  this  be  true  of  the  laboiu's  of  Christ,  the 
 gi-eatest  and  most  important  that  the  world  has  known.  "We 
 have  the  right  to  presiune  that  He  who  assumed  as  his  task 
 the  salvation  of  the  human  race  made  his  wdiole  previous  ex- 
 istence to  bear  upon  this  mighty  laboiu'.  The  idea  of  the 
 Messiah,  as  Redeemer  and  King,  streamed  forth  in  Divine 
 light,  from  the  course  of  the  theocracy  and  the  scattered  inti- 
 mations of  the  Old  Testament,  in  full  extent  and  clearness, 
 and  in  Di-vine  light  he  recognized  this  Messiahship  as  his  own; 
 and  this  consciousness  of  God  •within  him  harmonized  with  the 
 extraordinary  phenomena  that  occurred  at  his  birth. 
 
 merely  a  mechanic  (and  no  scribe)  was  quite  a  different  thing  ;  so  that  the 
 ensuing  objection,  "  How  comes  this  carpenter  to  set  up  as  our  teaclier  ?"  was 
 quite  in  character,  even  among  Jews.  It  does  not  follow  because,  after- 
 ward, only  designations  of  family  are  given  in  the  passage,  that  therefore 
 the  first  designation  was  fixed  upon  him  only  as  "  the  son  of  the  carpenter ;' ' 
 for,  certainly,  the  two  ideas,  "he  himself  is  only  a  carpenter,"  and  "his 
 relations  live  among  us  as  ordinary  people, ' '  hang  well  together.  Tliey 
 could  utter,  first,  the  most  cutting  contrast,  "  he  is  a  carpenter,  like  the 
 others,  and  he  now  will  be  a  prophet,"  and  then  mention  only  his  relations 
 who  were  yet  living,  but  not  Joseph,  who  was  already  dead. 
 
 It  is  perfectly  in  accordance  with  the  genius  of  Christianity  (although 
 not  necessarily  flowing  from  it),  that  the  Highest  should  thus  spring  from  an 
 humble  walk  of  life,  and  that  the  Divine  glory  should  manifest  himself  at 
 first  to  men  in  so  lowly  a  form.  The  Redeemer  thus  ennobled  human 
 labour  and  the  forms  of  common  life  ;  there  was  henceforth  to  be  no 
 ^avavaov  in  the  relations  of  human  society.  Thus  began  the  influence  of 
 Christianity  upon  the  civil  and  social  relations  of  men — an  influence  which 
 has  gone  on  increasing  from  that  day  to  this. 
 
44  CONSCIOUSNESS   OF   MESSIAHSHIP. 
 
 But  the  negative  side  of  the  Messiahsliip,  namely,  its  relation 
 to  sin,  he  could  not  learn  from  self-contemplation.  He  could 
 not  leani  depra\'ity  by  experience;  yet,  -without  this  know- 
 ledge, although  the  idea  of  the  Messiah  as  theocratic  king 
 might  have  been  fully  developed  in  his  mind,  an  essential 
 element  of  hLs  relations  to  humanity  would  have  remained 
 foreign  to  him.  But  although  his  personal  experience  could 
 not  unfold  tliis  peculiar  modification  of  the  Messianic  conscious- 
 ness, many  of  its  essential  features  were  continually  suggested 
 by  his  intercourse  with  the  outer  world.  There,  in  all  the 
 relations  of  life,  he  saw  human  depravity  and  its  attendant 
 wretchedness.  The  sight,  and  the  sjTnpathizbig  love  which  it 
 awoke,  made  a  profound  un})rcssion  upon  his  sovd,  and  formed, 
 at  least,  a  basis  for  the  consciousness  of  his  o\\ti  relation  to  it 
 as  Messiah. 
 
 We  may  assume,  then,  that  when  he  reached  liis  thirtieth 
 year,'  fiiUy  assured  of  his  call  to  the  Messiahsliip,  he  waited 
 only  for  a  sign  from  God  to  emerge  from  his  obscurity  and  enter 
 upon  his  work.  This  sign  was  to  be  given  liim  by  means  of 
 the  last  of  God's  ^\-itnesses  under  the  old  dispensation,  whose 
 calling  it  was  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  new  development  of 
 the  kingdom  of  God — by  John  the  Baptist,  the  last  represen- 
 tative of  the  prophetic  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament,  whose' 
 relation  to  Christ  and  liis  office  we  shall  now  more  particu- 
 larly examine.J 
 
 '  The  age  at  which  the  Levites  entered  on  their  office. — Numb.  iv. 
 
 i  A  promising  young  theologian  of  Luljeck,  L.  ron  Roliden,  has  lately 
 put  forth  an  excellent  treatise  on  this  subject,  well  adapted  for  general 
 circulation,  entitled,  "Johannes  der  Tiiufer,  in  seinem  Leben  and  Wirkeu 
 dargeatellt." 
 
BOOK    III. 
 
 PREPARATIVES  TO  THE  PUBLIC  MINISTRY 
 OE  CHRIST. 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 OBJECTIVE  PREPARATION.     THE  MINISTRY  OF  JOHN 
 THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 THE   CALLIXG    OF   THE   BAPTIST,    AND    HIS    RELATION'S   TO 
 
 THE   JEWS. 
 '  §  32. — How  far  tlie  Bajitist  rerircd  the  Expechdion  of  a  Messiah. 
 
 A  P110CL.4.MATI0N  of  the  approaching  kingdom  of  God, 
 involving  the  restoration  of  the  sunken  glory  of  the  Theocracy, 
 and  the  dawning  of  a  brighter  day  upon  God'.s  oppressed  ones, 
 was  essentially  necessary  as  a  prepai-ation  for  Christ's  public 
 ministry'. 
 
 But  this  was  not  all ;  it  was  equally  necessary  to  announce 
 Him  who  was  called  to  the  accom])lishment  of  this  great  work. 
 Tlic  expectation  of  the  kingdom  and  the  king  should  always 
 have  gone  together ;  bxit  we  find  that  they  did  not  actually  do 
 so.  The  prophecies  of  the  general  renewal  wex'e  often  distinct 
 from  those  which  foretold  the  agent  chosen  by  God  to  accom- 
 plish it ;  and  the  hope  of  the  former  often  existed  in  minds 
 which  had  lost  sight  of  the  latter.  A  Fhilo  proves  tlii.s.  The 
 Greek  and  Alexandrian  cultiu-e,  and  j)erhaps  the  combination 
 of  the  two  in  the  religious  ReaUsm  of  Palestine,  may  have 
 tended  to  bring  about  tliis  result.  Be  that  as  it  may,  it  is 
 essential  for  our  purpose  to  keep  the  two  ideas — the  announce- 
 ment of  the  kingdom  and  the  proclamation  of  the  Messiah — 
 separate  from  each  other. 
 
 Some  suppose  that  John  the  Baptist  was  the  first  ^  to  sug- 
 gest the  idea  of  a  Messiah  to  the  Jewish  mind  of  that  day. 
 
 ''  So  Schkiermadier  (Christlicbe  Sittenlehre,  p.  19)  states  that  John's 
 work  was  "  to  revive  the  forffotten  idea  of  the  Messiah." 
 
46  JOHN  THE   BAPTIST. 
 
 But  certainly  this  idea,  so  tlioroughly  interwoven  w-itli  the 
 theocratic  consciousness,  could  not  have  fallen  into  obhAion  ; 
 nay,  the  sufferings  of  the  people,  then*  shame  at  being  slaves 
 to  those  Avhom  they  beheved  themselves  destined  to  nile,  and 
 their  desu-e  for  dehverance  from  this  degrading  bondage,  must 
 have  constantly  tended  to  bring  it  more  and  more  vividly  before 
 them.  It  would  be  going  too  far,  then,  to  say  that  this  idea  had 
 been  lost  out  of  the  mind  of  that  age,  and  that  its  revival  was 
 due  to  the  efforts  of  a  single  individual.  Much  i-ather  .should 
 we  conceive  that  the  spirit  of  the  indi-sddual  was  stirred  by  an 
 impulse  from  the  spirit  of  the  age.  But  while  the  general 
 tendency  of  the  popular  mind  prej^ared  the  way  for  John,  his 
 labours  reacted  mightily  upon  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  formed, 
 indeed,  a  new  epoch  in  the  hopes  of  men  for  the  appearance  of 
 the  Kingdom  and  of  the  Messiah.  Christ  himself  makes  tliis 
 epoch  the  transition-period  between  the  old  and  the  new  dis- 
 pensations. ^ 
 
 It  was  essential,  also,  to  this  preparation  for  the  Messiah, 
 that  the  minds  of  the  people  should  obtain  a  clear  conception 
 of  the  object  to  which  their  hopes  were  directed,  and  the 
 means  by  which  it  was  to  be  obtained,  involving  a  more  correct 
 notion  of  the  work  and  kingdom  of  Messiah,  and  of  the  moral 
 requisites  for  participation  therein.  All  tliis  belonged  to  the 
 calHng  of  the  Old-Testament  order  of  prophets,  of  which  John 
 constituted  the  apex.  "We  must  look  for  the  ^jee?<7('rtr  features 
 of  his  position  in  the  fact  that  he  himself  not  only  fonned  the 
 point  of  transition  to  the  new  era,  but  was  allowed  to  recog- 
 nize and  point  out  the  ^Messiah,  and  to  give  the  signal  for  the 
 beginning  of  his  public  ministrj-. 
 
 §  33. — Causes  of  Obscurity  in  the  AccouiUs  left  iis  of  ilie  Baptist. — Sources . 
 The  Evangelists.     Joscphm. 
 
 The  difficulties  and  obscm-ities  that  remain  in  the  accounts 
 of  this  remarkable  man  seem  to  have  arisen  necessarily  from 
 the  peculiar  stand-point  wliich  he  occupied.  In  a  prophet  or 
 a  forerunner,  we  must  always  distinguish  between  what  ho 
 utters  with  clear  self- consciousness,  and  what  lies  bejond  the 
 utterance,  concealed  even  from  himself,  until  a  later  pei-iod  ; 
 between  the  fundamental  idea,  and  the  form,  perhaps  not 
 wholly  fitting,  in  wliich  it  veils  itself  Opposite  elements 
 always  meet  each  other  in  an  epoch  which  constitutes  the 
 
 '  Matt.  xi.  12.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  say  more  on  this  passage 
 hereafter. 
 
AUTHORITIES.  47 
 
 transition-poiut  from  one  stage  of  development  to  another ; 
 and  we  cannot  look  for  a  logical  and  connected  mode  of 
 thinking  in  the  representative  of  such  an  epoch.  In  some  of 
 his  utterances  we  may  find  traces  of  the  old  period  ;  in  others, 
 longings  for  the  new  ;  and  in  bringing  them  together,  we  may- 
 find  dili'erent  viev.'s  wliich  cannot  always  be  made  perfectlj^  to 
 hannonize. 
 
 The  natiu'e  of  the  authoiities  to  v.-hich  we  are  confined 
 makes  it  peculiarly  difiicult  to  come  at  the  objective  truth  in 
 regard  to  John  the  Baptist.  On  the  one  side  we  have  the 
 accounts  of  the  Evangelists,  given  from  the  Christian  stand- 
 point, and  for  religious  ends ;  and  on  the  other  that  of 
 Josep/nis,^  which  is  purely  historical  in  its  chai-acter  send  aims. 
 
 As  to  the  fii'st,  it  is  very  probable  that  John  could  be  better 
 undei*stood  in  the  light  of  Christianity  than  he  understood 
 himself  and  liis  mission.  The  aims  of  a  preparatory  and  tran- 
 sition-period are  always  better  comprehended  after  their 
 accompUshment  than  before ;  so,  truths  wliich  were  veiled 
 from  John's  apin-ehension  stood  clearly  foi"th  before  the  minds 
 of  the  Evangelists.  But  this  very  fact  may  have  caused  the 
 obscurity  which  we  find  in  their  accounts  of  the  Baptist.  We 
 are  very  apt,  in  describing  a  lower  point  of  \iew  from  a  higher, 
 to  attribute  to  the  former  what  belongs  only  to  the  latter. 
 Any  one  who  has  passed  through  a  siibordinate  and  preparatory 
 stage  of  thought  to  a  liigher  one,  A\ill  find  it  hard  to  keep  the 
 distinction  between  the  two  clearly  before  liis  consciousness  : 
 they  blend  themselves  together  in  spite  of  him.  So,  pei'haps, 
 it  may  have  happened  that  the  distinctiAO  differences  between 
 the  stand-point  of  John  and  that  of  Chiistianity  were  lost 
 sight  of  when  the  evangelical  accoimts  were  prepared,  and  that 
 the  Baptist  was  represented  as  nearer  to  Christianity  than  he 
 really  was.  The  likelihood  of  this  result  would  be  all  the 
 greater  if  the  Christian  writer  had  been  himself  a  disciple  of 
 John  ;  such  a  one,  even  though  endowed  with  the  sincerest 
 love  of  truth,  would  naturally  see  more  in  the  words  of  his  old 
 master  than  the  latter  himself,  under  his  peculiai*  cii-cum- 
 stances,  could  possibly  have  intended.  After  a  prophecy  has 
 reached  its  fulfilment,  it  would  be  diflBcult,  if  not  impossible, 
 to  reproduce  the  precise  consciousness  under  which  the  predic- 
 tian  was  uttered. 
 
 If,  therefore,  we  find,  on  close  inquirj',  that  the  liistorical 
 statements  ai'e  somewhat  obscured  by  subjective  influences, 
 °  ArchsBol.  xix.  1. 
 
48  JOHy  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 our  estimate  of  tlieii*  veracity  need  be  in  no  wise  affected 
 thereby.  Such  a  result  would  not  conflict  in  the  least  with 
 the  only  tenable  idea  of  Inspiration.  The  organs  which  the 
 Holy  Ghost  illuminated  and  inspired  to  convey  his  truth  to 
 men  retained  their  individual  peculiarities,  and  remained 
 within  the  sphere  of  the  psychological  laws  of  our  being. 
 Besides,  Inspiration,  both  in  its  nature  and  its  object,  refers 
 oidy  to  man's  religious  interests  and  to  points  connected  with 
 it.  But  practical  religion  requii-es  only  a  knowledge  of  the 
 ti-uth  itself;  it  needs  not  to  understand  the  gradual  genetic 
 development  of  the  truth  in  the  intellect,  or  to  distingmsh 
 the  various  stages  of  its  advance  to  distinct  and  perfect  con- 
 sciousness. On  the  other  hand,  these  latter  are  j^recisely  the 
 aims  towards  which  scientific  kistory  directs  itself.  It  follows, 
 therefore,  that  the  interest  of  practical  religion  and  that  of 
 scientific  history  may  not  always  nm  in  the  same  channel ; 
 and  the  latter  must  give  place  to  the  former,  especially  in 
 points  so  vital  as  the  direct  impression  which  Christ  made 
 upon  mankind.  Prequent  illustrations  of  tliis  distinction  are 
 afforded  by  the  interpretations  of  passages  from  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment giA'en  by  the  apostles. 
 
 In  all  our  inquiries  into  the  evangelical  histories,  we  must 
 keep  in  view  the  fact,  that  they  were  written  not  to  satisfy 
 scientific,  but  religious  Avants ;  not  to  afford  materials  for  sys- 
 tematic history,  but  to  set  forth  the  groimd  of  human  sal- 
 vation in  CImst  and  his  kingdom.  There  was,  indeed,  one 
 Avho  could  distinguish  the  different  stages  in  tlie  development 
 of  revelation  at  a  single  piercing  glance  ;  but  this  one  WcOs  He 
 in  whom  God  and  man  were  united.  He  himself  told  his 
 Apostles  that  he  had  this  power,  and  liis  words  in  regard  to 
 the  stand-point  of  John  the  Bajjtist  illusti'ate  it.  These  words 
 alone  must  form  our  guiding  light. 
 
 It  might  be  inferred,  if  what  we  have  said  be  true,  that 
 the  account  oi  Josephus,  which  proceeds  from  ajiurely  historical 
 interest,  should  be  prefei-red  to  that  of  the  EvangeUsts.  But 
 it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  liistorical  events  can  only  be 
 correctly  understood  when  viewed  from  the  stand-point  of  the 
 province  to  which  tliey  belong  ;  and  so  events  that  fall  \vithin 
 the  sphere  of  religion  are  only  intelligible  from  a  religioiis 
 stand-point.  And  as  John's  import  to  the  history  of  the 
 world  consists  in  the  fact  that  lie  formed  the  dividing  line 
 between  the  two  stages  of  development  in  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  it  cannot  be  fully  understood  except  by  an  intuitive  reli- 
 
HIS  RELATION  TO  THE  JEWISH  PEOPLE.  49 
 
 ifioiis  sense,  capable  of  appreciating  religious  phenomena.  Of 
 •such  a  religious  sense  Josephus  was  destitute.  Now  the  reli- 
 gious sense  can  get  along  without  the  scientific  ;  but  the  latter 
 cannot  do  without  the  former,  whei-e  the  understanding  of 
 religious  events  is  concerned  ;  and  hence  the  living  peculiari- 
 ties of  John  the  Baptist  vanished  under  the  hands  of  Josephus, 
 although  he  was  able  to  a]>prehend  Jolm's  character  and 
 appearance  in  their  general  features.  To  his  religious  defi- 
 ciency must  be  added  his  habit  of  adapting  himself  to  the 
 taste  and  culture  of  the  Greeks,  a  habit  which  could  not  but 
 wear  away  his  Jewish  modes  of  thought  and  feeling.  He  saw 
 in  John  only  a  man  of  moral  ardour,  who  taught  tlie  truth  to 
 the  Jews,  rebuked  their  corraptions,  and  offered  them,  instead 
 of  their  lustrations  and  outwai-d  righteousness,  a  s^anbol  of 
 inward  spiritual  purification  in  his  water-baptism.  With  such 
 a  narrow  view  as  tliis  we  could  neither  understand  John's  use 
 of  baptism,  nor  explain  his  public  labours  among  such  a  people 
 as  the  Jews.  It  is  but  a  beggarly  abstraction  from  the  living 
 individual  elements  which  the  Gospel  accounts  afford. 
 
 §  ?>i. — The  Baptist's  Mode  of  Life  and  Tcacliing  in  the  Desert. 
 We  learn  from  Josephus  °  that  many  pious  and  earnest  men 
 among  the  Jews,  disgusted  with  the  corruptions  of  the  times, 
 retii'cd,  like  the  monks  and  hermits  of  Chi-istianity  at  a  later 
 day,  into  Avilderness  spots,  and  there,  becoming  teachers  of 
 Di^^nc  Avisdom,  collected  disciples  around  them.  Such  a  one 
 was  John.  Consecrated  from  his  birth,  by  a  sign  from  heaven, 
 to  his  Divine  calling,  he  led  a  rigid  and  ascetic  life  from  his 
 very  childhood.  Had  we  nothing  but  Josephus's  °  account  to 
 guide  us,  we  might  suppose  that  John  only  differed  from  the 
 other  teachers  of  the  desert  in  the  fact  that  the  spirit  of  liis 
 teaching  was  more  practical,  and  tended  to  carry  him  out  into 
 a  wider  field  of  action.  While  thci/  only  revealed  the  tniths 
 of  a  higher  life  to  such  as  sought  them  in  their  solitude,  Ite  felt 
 constrained  to  go  forth  and  raise  his  reproving  voice  aloud 
 among  the  multitude,  to  condemn  the  Jews  for  their  vices  and 
 theu"  hy^)ocrisy,  and  to  call  them,  abandoning  their  false  secm-ity 
 and  their  debasing  trust  in  outward  works,  to  seek  the  genuine 
 
 "  An  example  is  afforded  in  the  case  of  Banus,  of  wlioni  Josephus,  who 
 was  his  di.scipie,  gives  an  account  in  liis  autobiography,  §  2  ;  "  iaOT]  i  ftiu 
 uTTo  civcpwv  xpiJjfitvov,  Tpo(p>)}'  ci  rrjv  avTonurug  ipt!0(i'tvi]v  po<T(p(p6- 
 fiivoi',  •.|/i;x|0(p  ce  vouTi  Tt)v  ijjx'ipav  Kal  riji'  rvicra  TToXXdicic  Xovufitvov 
 irpoc  iiyi'tiai'." 
 
 "  Archaeol.  xviii.  v.  2. 
 
 E 
 
50  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 piety  wliich  comes  from  the  heart.  This  part  of  John's  ministiy, 
 viz.,  his  work  as  a  reformer,  Josephus  has  brought  out  promi- 
 nently ;  wliile  he  has  entu-ely  failed  to  notice  the  indelible 
 stamp  of  the  Baptist's  laboiu's  left  ujDon  the  history  of  the 
 Theocracy. 
 
 John  had  retired  to  the  desert  region  west  of  the  Dead 
 Sea,  and  there  lived  a  life  of  abstinence  and  austerity,  har- 
 monizing well  with  his  inward  grief  for  the  corruptions  of 
 his  people.  Like  his  type,  Elias,  he  wore  coarse  garments, 
 and  satisfied  his  wants  with  a  nourishment  which  natux-e 
 offered  in  a  species  of  locusts,  sometimes  used  as  food,  and 
 wild  honey.  P 
 
 §  35. — John  as  Baptist  and  Preacher  of  Repentance. 
 While  John  was  thus  sighing  in  solitude  over  the  sins  of  a 
 degenerate  people,  and  praying  that  God  would  soon  send  the 
 promised  Deliverer,  the  assurance  was  vouchsafed  to  him  from 
 above  that  the  Messiah  should  soon  be  revealed  to  him.  He 
 felt  himself  called  to  declare  this  assxu'ance  to  the  people,  and 
 to  exhort  them  to  prepare  their  souls  for  the  approacliing 
 epoch.  He  abandoned  the  solitude  of  the  desert  for  the  banks 
 of  the  Jordan,i  gathered  the  people  in  hosts  about  him,  and 
 announced  to  them  the  coming  appearance  of  both  the  Messiah 
 and  his  kingdom,  which  ideas  he  never  separated.  He  pro- 
 claimed to  them  that  God  would  sift  his  people,  and  that  the 
 unworthy  should  be  condemned  and  excluded  from  the  Theo- 
 cracy. He  denounced  as  false  and  treacherous  the  prevailing 
 idea  that  theocratic  descent  and  the  obser\'ance  of  outward 
 ceremonies  were  the  only  requisites  for  admittance  into  Mes- 
 siah's kingdom,  and  exhoi-ted  all  to  true  repentance  as  the  one 
 essential  preparation.  He  made  use  of  baptism  as  a  symbol  of 
 preparatory  consecration  to  the  Messiah's  kingdom,  a  coui-so  to 
 which  he  might  have  been  led  by  the  lustrations  common 
 among  the  Jews,  and  by  the  intimations  of  prophecy,  such  as 
 Mai.  in.,  Zach.  xiii.,  Ezek.  xxxvi.  25,  even  if  the  baptism  of 
 
 P  In  the  Ebionitish  recension  of  Matthew,  we  find  the  food  of  John 
 described  as  /tjXt  dypiov,  ov  t)  ytiKjtQ  yv  rov  fidrva,  wc  tyKplQ  tv  iXaiit) 
 ("  it  had  the  taste  of  manna,  as  a  cake  baked  in  oil." — Num.  xi.  8).  Tlie 
 simple  statement  of  Matthew  is  here  misrepresented,  and  even  falsified. 
 The  uKpiotq  (locusts)  seemed  to  this  writer  food  unworthy  for  John,  and  he 
 makes  tyKpiciQ  (cakes)  out  of  them,  and  thus  gets  a  chance  of  comparing 
 John's  food  with  manna. 
 
 1  We  follow  the  statement  of  Luke  (iii.  2),  which  has  the  advantage  in 
 distinguishing  fi-ora  each  other  the  periods  in  John's  manifestation. 
 
HIS  RELATION  TO  THE  PHARISEES.  51" 
 
 proselytes  was  not  then  extant  among  the  Jews.  Doubtless 
 the  Baptist  stood  in  a  special  relation  to  those  that  flocked 
 about  him  as  followers  ;  although,  as  preacher  of  repentance, 
 as  the  voice  of  one  crying  in  the  loilderness  (Isai.  xl.  3),  whose 
 duty  it  was  to  prej^are  the  way  for  the  Messiah  amid  a  people 
 estranged  from  God,  he  held  a  general  and  common  relation 
 to  all. 
 
 §  36. — Relations  of  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  to  ilie  Baptist. 
 
 We  are  natiu-ally  led  here  to  inquire  into  the  relations  which 
 John  sustained  to  the  different  classes  of  the  Jewish  people. 
 Was  he,  as  preacher  of  repentance,  only  a  man  of  the  jjeople, 
 and  did  the  Pharisees,  the  hierarchical  party,  manifest  their 
 jealous  opposition  from  the  very  first,  or  did  it  arise  by  degrees 
 at  a  later  period  1  Of  one  thing  we  ma}^  be  sui-e,  from  Matt, 
 iii.  7,  \iz.,  that  many  Pharisees  were  to  be  found  among  the 
 number  that  crowded  about  John  and  submitted  to  liis  baptism. 
 Yet  Christ,  in  one  of  his  last  discourses  at  Jerusalem  (Matt, 
 xxi.  32),  drew  a  striking  contrast  between  the  publicans  who 
 believed  in  John's  prophetic  calling,  and  were  led  by  him  to 
 repentance,  and  the  Phaiisees,  who  persevered  in  their  self- 
 sufficiency  and  unbeUef.  The  words  of  Matt.  xi.  1 6,  seem  also 
 to  indicate  that  the  general  spirit  of  the  people  was  as  hostile 
 to  John  as  it  subsequently  showed  itself  to  Christ,  and  that 
 only  a  few,  open  to  the  lessons  of  heavenly  ■wdsdom,  admitted 
 the  Divine  mission  of  the  Baptist.  So  also,  in  Luke  vii.  29,  30, 
 the  coui-se  of  the  people  and  the  pubhcans,  in  following  John 
 and  submitting  to  his  baptism,  is  contrasted  with  the  very  op- 
 posite conduct  of  the  Phai'isees  and  lawyers,  who  "  rejected  the 
 counsel  of  God  against  themselves." 
 
 Still,  Matthew  (iii.  7)  states  expressly,  that  "  many  Pharisees 
 and  Sadducees  came  to  Johns  baptism,"  and  the  form  of  the 
 statement  distmguishes  these  from  the  ordinary  throng.  It 
 seems  somewhat  unhistorical  that  these  sects,  so  oj)posite  to 
 each  other,  should  be  named  together  hei'e,  as  well  as  in  some 
 other  places  in  the  Gospels  ;  but  an  explanation  is  perhaps  to 
 be  found  in  the  fact  that  it  was  customary  to  name  them  to- 
 gether on  the  groimd  of  their  common  hatred  to  Christianity. 
 It  appears  improbable  that  men  of  the  peculiar  rehgious  opinions 
 of  the  Sadducees  should  have  been  attracted  by  the  preacher 
 of  repentance,  the  forerunner  of  the  Messiah  ;  nor  does  John, 
 in  his  severe  sermon,  make  any  special  reference  to  that  sect,  an 
 omission  which  coidd  hardly  have  occurred  had  any  of  the  sect 
 
 e2 
 
02  JOH]S  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 SO  far  departed  from  their  ordinary  habits  as  to  listen  to  his 
 preaching^  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that  the  mention  of 
 the  Pharisees  is  in  the  same  predicament ;  on  the  contrary,  the 
 liistorical  citation  of  the  latter  may  have  given  rise  to  the  nn- 
 liistorical  mention  of  the  Sadducees.  Nor  does  the  fact  that 
 the  Pharisees,  at  a  later  period,  maintained  an  attitude  of  hos 
 tility  towards  John  prove  that  they  had  opposed  liim  from  the 
 beginning.  His  rigid  asceticism  and  zeal  for  the  [Messiah  were 
 in  entire  harmony  with  the  spirit  of  their  sect ;  and  they 
 could  hsten  with  approval  to  his  energetic  reproofs  and  calls  to 
 repentance,  so  long  as  they  were  aimed  only  at  the  people  and 
 the  publicans.  So,  in  the  Christian  Church,  ardent  reformers 
 and  witnesses  to  the  truth  have  been  favoured  even  by  the 
 heads  of  the  hierarchy,  so  long  as  they  attacked  only  the 
 common  faults  and  vices  of  men.  But  the  first  assault  upon 
 the  hierai-chy  itself  roused  all  its  hatred  and  its  vengeance. 
 
 In  the  earlier  period  of  John's  preaching,  then,  there  may 
 have  been  notliing  to  excite  the  jealousy  of  the  Pharisees. 
 Moreover,  it  is  not  likely  that  all  who  bore  the  name  of  Pharisees 
 were  fully  imbued  v\-ith  the  spirit  of  the  sect.  Although  the 
 majority  of  them,  intent  only  upon  selfish  and  party  aims,  may 
 have  regarded  John's  ministry  with  an  eye  of  suspicion,  there 
 wei*e  probably  among  them  some  earnest,  upright  men,  upon 
 whom  his  preaching  could  not  fail  to  make  an  impression. 
 These  two  thoughts  may  seiwe  to  reconcile  Matt.  iii.  7  with  the 
 other  passages  quoted,  in  which  the  hostility  of  the  Pharisees 
 is  mentioned.  Again,  the  expression  of  (~'hrist  in  John  v.  35 
 seems  to  imply  that  the  Pharisees  received  and  approved  John's 
 prophecy  of  the  coming  ]\Iessiah,  but  did  not  allow  his  Avords 
 to  sink  deep  into  their  hearts  or  to  operate  upon  their  thoughts 
 and  inclinations.  The  severe  sermon*  reported  by  the  Evan- 
 gehsts  was  certainly  not  adapted  to  such  as  came  to  John, 
 penitent  and  broken-hearted,  to  obtain  consolation  and  guid- 
 ance ;  but  rather  to  the  haughty  and  an-ogant  Phai-isee,  Avho 
 felt  sure  of  his  share  in  the  Messiah's  kingdom,  appear  when  it 
 might,  without  either  repentance  or  forgiveness.     It  was  these 
 
 '  Wo  cannot  support  the  exjjression  of  Matthew  by  the  st-itement  of 
 Josephu3  (xviii.  1,  4),  that  the  HadJucees  were  accustomed  to  accommodate 
 their  own  convictions  to  the  principles  of  the  Pharisees,  on  account  of  the 
 stronghold  which  the  latter  had  upon  the  people.  In  this  case,  at  least, 
 no  such  accommodation  was  required,  from  the  repute  in  which  John  was 
 held  among  the  Pharisees. 
 
 "  Luke  iii.  7,  Matt.  iii.  7.  Luke  reports  it  as  addres.'scd  to  the  people  ; 
 Matthew  to  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees. 
 
HIS  OPIKION  OF  HIS  CALLING.  53 
 
 that  lie  stigmatized  as  a  "  brood  of  vipers,"  and  no  sons  of 
 Abraham.  It  was  these  to  whom  he  said,  in  tones  of  Avarning 
 and  reproof,  "  Who  has  told  yoxi  that  by  simple  baptism  you 
 shall  escape  God's  coming  judgment?  "Would  you  really 
 escape  it  1  Then  repent,  and  do  works  meet  for  repentance. 
 Trust  not  to  your  saying  'Abraham  is  our  father;'  for  I  tell 
 you  that  the  development  of  the  kingdom  is  not  confined  to 
 the  race  of  Al)raham;  nay,  from  these  very  stones  that  lie 
 upon  the  river  bank,  God  can  raise  up  his  children." 
 
 In  these  last  words  he  meant  to  tell  them  that  if  the  Jews 
 disgraced  their  Theocratic  descent,  God  would  remove  his 
 kingdom  from  them  and  impart  it  unto  strangers.  He  ends 
 by  proclaiming  that  the  Messiah  would  sift  liis  people 
 thoroughly,  and  exclude  all  that  should  be  fomid  unworthy. 
 Such  preaching  must  have  been  enough  to  embitter  and 
 alienate  the  Pharisees,  even  if  they  had  been  before  disposed 
 to  approve  and  favoiu'  the  preacher. 
 
 §  37. — Eelativns  of  John  to  the  People,  and  to  the  Narrower  Circle  of  hk  ov>n 
 Disciples. 
 
 Time  penitents  who  came  to  the  Baptist  inquiring  the  way 
 of  life  found  in  the  severe  ascetic  a  kind  and  condescending 
 teacher.  He  gave  them  no  vague  and  high-sounding  words, 
 but  adapted  his  instructions  with  minute  care  to  tlieii*  special 
 condition  and  circumstances.  John  resembled  the  austere 
 i:)reachers  of  repentance  who  sprung  up  in  the  Middle  Ages  in 
 more  than  one  respect ;  but  especially  in  the  twofold  relation 
 which  he  sustained,  to  the  people  generally,  and  to  his  disciples 
 in  particular.  Wliile  the  latter  imitated  liis  owm  ascetic  piety 
 in  order  to  tit  themselves  for  preachers  of  repentance,  he  did 
 not  demand  of  the  former  to  abandon  their  ordinary  line  of 
 life,  even  Avhen  it  was  one  obnoxious  to  the  prejudices  of  the 
 Jews ;  the  soldier  was  not  required  to  leave  the  ranks,  nor  the 
 tax-gatherer  his  office,  but  only  to  fulfil  their  respective  duties 
 Avith  honesty  and  fidelity.  AJl  alike  were  commanded  to  do 
 good ;  but  only  those  whose  occupations  were  sinfid  had  to 
 abandon  them,  and  at  liis  command  many  did  so. 
 
 §  DS. — John's  Demands  upon  the  People  compared  with  those  of  Christ. — 
 His  humble  Opinion  of  his  own  Calling. 
 
 But  how  very  moderate  do  John's  requirements  appear  in 
 comparison  with  those  of  Christ,  who  demanded  at  the  very 
 
 '  Matt.  xxi.  32. 
 
54  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST, 
 
 outset  an  absolute  sacrifice  of  the  will  and  the  affections  !  This 
 difference  arose  naturally,  howevei",  from  the  diflerent  positions 
 ■which  they  occupied.  John  was  fully  conscious  that  the  moral 
 regeneration  which  Avas  indispensable  to  admittance  into  the 
 Messiah's  kingdom  could  only  be  accomplished  by  a  Di\dne 
 principle  of  life ;  and,  knowing  that  to  impart  this  Avas  beyond 
 his  power,  he  confined  himself  to  a  preparatori/  purification  of 
 the  morals  of  the  people.  The  gi'eat,  the  Godlike  featui-e  of 
 his  character  was  his  thorough  understanding  of  himself  and  his 
 calling.  Filled  as  he  was  with  enthusiasm,  he  yet  felt  that  he 
 was  but  the  himible  instrument  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  called, 
 not  to  found  the  new  creation,  but  only  to  prodaim  it ;  nor 
 did  the  thronging  of  eager  thousands  to  hang  upon  his  Lips, 
 nor  the  enthusiastic  love  of  his  own  immediate  followers,  ever 
 ready  to  glorify  their  master,  in  the  least  degree  blind  his 
 perceptions  of  duty,  or  raise  liim  above  his  calling.  Con\Tnced 
 that  he  was  inspired  of  God  to  prepare,  and  not  to  create,  he 
 never  pretended  to  work  miracles,  nor  did  his  disciples,  strongly 
 as  he  impressed  them,  ever  attribute  miraculous  powers  to  him. 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 RELATION  OP  THE  BAPTIST  TO  MESSIAH. 
 
 §  39. — John's  Explanation  of  Ms  Relation  to  tlic  Messiah.     The  Baptism  by 
 Wafer  and  by  Fire. 
 
 Carefully,  however,  as  John  avoided  exciting  false  expec- 
 tations, they  could  hardly  fad  to  ai-ise  at  a  i:)eriod  so  full  of 
 foreboding  and  hope  for  the  coming  of  Messiah,  after  time 
 enough  had  elapsed  for  him  to  make  a  powerfid  impression 
 upon  the  public  mind  as  a  jireacher  of  repentance  and  pro- 
 claimer  of  a  better  future.'^  Many  of  those  whom  his  pi-eaching 
 had  so  deeply  moved  became  uneasy  to  ascertain  his  true 
 relation  to  the  Messiah ;  and  as  his  language  on  the  subject 
 was  always  concise,  and  ratlier  suggestive  than  explanatory, 
 they  were  inclined  to  tliink  that  liis  real  chax-acter  was  only 
 kept  in  the  back  ground  for  the  time,  and  would  aftenvard  be 
 gradually  unfolded.  But  when  the  Baptist  saw  that  men 
 mused  in  t/ielr  hearts  lohcther  he  were  the  Christ  or  no,''  he  resolved 
 to  define  his  relation  to  the  Messiali  exi)hcitly  and  unmis- 
 takcably.  His  mission,  he  told  them,  was  to  baptize  by  water, 
 as  a  symbol  of  the  preparatory  repentance  wliich  had  to  open 
 
 "  Paul's  words  (Acts  xiii.  25)  lead  us  to  infer  that  this  took  place  first 
 towards  the  end  of  John's  career.  "  Luke  iii.  15. 
 
HIS  CONCEPTION  OF  MESSIAH'S  KINGDOM.  55 
 
 the  way  for  that  renewal  and  purification  of  the  nation  by 
 Divine  poAvcr  which  was  to  be  expected  in  the  Messiah  ;  the 
 lofby  one  that  was  to  follow,  raised  so  far  above  himself,  that 
 he  sliould  be  dignified  by  performing  for  him  the  most  menial 
 services.  He  it  was  that  should  baptize  tJiem  tmth  the  Holy 
 Glwst  cmd  with  fire;  that  is  to  say,  that  as  his  (John's)  followers 
 were  entirely  immersed  in  the  water,  so  the  Messiah  would 
 immerse  the  souls  of  believers  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  imparted  by 
 himself;  so  that  it  shoidd  thoroughly  penetrate  their  being, 
 and  form  witliin  them  a  new  principle  of  life.  And  tliis  Spirit* 
 -baptism  was  to  be  accompanied  by  a  baptism  of  fire^""'  Those 
 who  refused  to  be  penetrated  by  the  Spirit  of  the  Divine  life 
 should  be  destroyed  by  the  fire  of  the  Divine  judgments.  The 
 "  sifting"  by  fire  ever  goes  along  with  the  advance  of  the  Spirit, 
 and  consumes  all  who  will  not  appropriate  the  latter.  So  John 
 represents  the  Messiah  as  appearing  Avith  his  "fan"  in  his 
 hands,  to  purify  the  '-'threshing-floor"  of  his  kingdom,  to  gather 
 the  worthy  into  the  glorified  congregation  of  God,  and  to  cast 
 out  the  unworthy  and  deliver  them  over  to  the  Divine 
 judgments. 
 
 §  40. — John's  Conception  of  Messiah's  Kingdom. 
 Let  us  inquire  now  upon  what  \-iew  of  the  calling  and  work 
 of  the  Messiah,  and  of  the  nature  of  liis  kingdom,  these  ex- 
 pressions of  the  Baptist  were  foimded.  He  contradicts  the 
 notion,  so  prevalent  among  the  Jews,  that  aU  the  descendants 
 of  Abraham  who  outwardly  observed  the  religion  of  their 
 fathers  woidd  be  taken  into  the  Messiah's  kingdom,  while  his 
 heavy  judgments  would  fall  upon  the  pagans  alone.  On  the 
 contrary,  he  maintains  the  necessity,  for  all  who  would  enter 
 that  kingdom,  of  a  moi'al  new  birth,  which  he  sets  forth  to 
 them  by  the  Spirit-baptLsm ;  and  proclaims,  as  a  necessaiy 
 preparation  for  this  new  birth,  a  consciousness  of  sin  and 
 longing  to  be  free  from  it ;  all  which  is  implied  in  the  word 
 fiETuyout,  when  stated  as  the  necessary  condition  of  obtaining 
 
 '"  Some  think  the  "fire"  is  used  as  a  sjTnbol  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  inasmuch 
 as  it  is  employed  in  other  places  in  Scripture  to  denote  Divine  influences. 
 In  this  view  of  the  passage,  as  the  baptism  by  water  symbolizes  preparatory 
 repentance,  so  that  by  Jire  symbolizes  tlie  transfiguring  and  puri^'ing 
 power  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Oiu-  own  opinion  is,  however,  that  as  judgment 
 by  fire  is  spoken  of  but  a  few  verses  after  (Luke  iii.  17),  it  must  be  taken 
 in  the  same  sense  here,  and  the  baptism  by  fire  referred  to  the  sifting 
 process  immediately  mentioned.  Tims  the  fire  is  the  sj-mbol  f)f  the  power 
 which  consumes  everything  impure,  in  the  same  sense  in  which  God  is  said 
 to  be  '■'  a  consuminE:  fire.'' 
 
5G  JOHK  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 the  promised  baptism  of  the  Spirit.  He  expects  this  kingdom 
 to  be  visible;  but  yet  conceives  it  as  piu-ely  spiritual,  a.s  a 
 community  filled  and  inspu-ed  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  and 
 existing,  in  commimion  of  the  Divnne  life,  w-ith  the  Messiah 
 as  its  -visible  King ;  so  that,  what  had  not  been  the  case  before, 
 the  idea  of  the  Theocracy  and  its  manifestation  should  pre- 
 cisely correspond  to  each  other.  He  has  already  a  presenti- 
 ment that  the  wilUng  among  the  pagans  vnll  be  incorporated 
 into  the  kingdom  in  place  of  the  unworthy  Jews  who  shall  be 
 excluded.  The  appearance  of  Messiah  Avill  caiLse  a  sifting  of 
 the  Theocratic  p»eople.  This  presupposes  that  he  will  not 
 overturn  all  enemies  and  set  up  liis  kingdom  at  once  by  the 
 miraculous  power  of  God,  but  will  manifest  liimself  in  such  a 
 fonn  that  those  whose  hearts  are  prej)ared  for  his  coming  Avill 
 recognize  him  as  Messiah,  while  those  of  ungodly  minds  will 
 deny  and  0]ipose  liim.  On  the  one  hand,  a  community  of  the 
 righteous  wiU  gather  around  him  of  their  oavti  accord ;  and,  on 
 the  other,  the  enmity  of  the  corrupt  multitude  ^^'ill  be  called 
 forth  and  organized.  The  Messiah  must  do  battle  with  the 
 universal  corniption ;  and,  after  the  strife  has  sepai'ated  the 
 ■wicked  members  of  the  Theocratic  nation  from  the  good,  ^vill 
 come  forth  victorious,  and  glorify  the  pui'ified  people  of  God 
 under  his  o-\vn  reign. 
 
 §  41. — John's  Recognition  of  Jesus  as  the  Messia/t. 
 (1.)  Import  of  his  Baptism  of  Jesus. — (2.)  The  Continuance  of  his  Ministry. 
 — (.3).  Possible  Waverinj:?  in  his  Conviction  of  Christ's  Messiahship. — 
 (4.)  His  Message  from  Prison. — (5.)  Conduct  of  his  Disciples  towards 
 Jesus. 
 
 As  John's  conception  of  the  Messiah  included  his  office  in 
 freeing  the  people  of  God  from  the  power  of  evil,  and  impai'ting 
 to  them  a  new  life  in  the  life  of  God,  it  appears  that  he  pre- 
 supposed also  the  fulness  of  the  Holy  Ghost  dwelling  in  him  in 
 such  a  way  as  that  he  could  bestow  it  upon  others.  From  the 
 first  germ  of  the  idea  of  Messiah  in  the  Prophets  down  to  the 
 time  of  Christianity  itself,  we  find  ever  that  a  just  and  pro- 
 found concejition  of  liis  office  invohes  in  it  a  liigher  idea  of  liis 
 person.  So,  perhaps,  John,  although  his  expectation  of  a 
 \'isible  realization  of  the  Theocracy  shows  hini  a.s  yet  upon  Old 
 Testament  ground,  may  Jiave  at  least  touched  upon  the  stand- 
 point of  Christianity.  His  jjosition  was  very  like  that  held  by 
 Simeon,  and  indeed,  in  general,  by  all  those  Jews  who,  in 
 advance  of  the  sentiments  of  the  times,  were  inspired  with 
 eai'ncst  longings  for  the  appearance  of  the  Messiah,  aud  thus 
 
HIS  BECOGNITIOK  OF  CHRISt's  MESSIAHSHIP.  57 
 
 stood  upon  tlie  border-laud  between  the  two  stages  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God.  And  in  John's  representation  of  lus  own 
 inferiority  to  hiin  "  that  should  come,"  and  in  his  clear  appre- 
 hension of  the  limits  of  his  mission  and  his  power — an  appre- 
 hension that  distinguished  him  from  all  other  founders  of 
 preparatory  epochs — we  have  an  assurance  that  he  will  never 
 imagine  his  preparatory  stand-point  to  be  a  permanent  one ; 
 and  that,  as  he  feels  himself  unworthy  "  to  unloose  the  shoe- 
 strings" of  the  lofty  One  that  is  to  appear,  so  he  will  bow 
 himself  in  the  same  humble  reverence  when  He,  whom  liis 
 spiiitual  sense  shall  recognize  as  the  expected  one,  shall  appear 
 in  person  before  liim. 
 
 We  are  fully  aware  of  the  objections  that  may  be  raised 
 against  these  conclusions.  It  may  be  said,  and  truly^  that  one 
 may  do  homage  to  an  idea,  whose  general  outlines  are  present 
 to  his  intuition,  but  may  be  unfit  to  recognize  the  reaUzatioii 
 of  the  idea  when  ])resented  before  his  eyes  in  all  its  features. 
 The  prejudices  of  his  time  and  circumstances  are  sure  to  start 
 up  and  hinder  liim  from  the  recognition.  But  surely,  in  the 
 case  of  John,  the  lowliness  of  mind  and  sobriety  of  judgment 
 to  wliich  we  have  just  referred  give  us  gi-ound  to  expect  that 
 he,  at  least,  would  so  far  surmount  liis  peculiar  prejudices  as 
 to  recognize  the  admission  of  a  higher  element  into  the  com-se 
 of  events — to  recognize  a  stand-point  even  essentially  different 
 from  his  own :  especially  as  he  had  himself  pointed  out  before- 
 hand the  characteristics  of  such  a  diflerence.  Yet  we  do  not 
 wish  to  deny  that  doubts  may  arise,  in  regard  to  the  fact  of 
 John's  recognition  of  Jesus  as  INIessiah,  in  the  minds  of  tlioso 
 who  do  not  presuppose  the  unconditional  credibiUty  of  the 
 Go.si)els.  Fexiiaps  the  remark  above  made,  in  reference  to  a 
 jjossible  commingling  of  the  subjective^  and  the  objective  in  the 
 Gospel  accounts,  may  be  applicable  here.  But  before  we 
 proceed  ^\ith  our  connected  historical  recital,  we  must  seek 
 sure  historicul  footing,  by  inquiring  into  the  grounds  of  the 
 doubts  referred  to. 
 
 The  following  questions,  perhaps,  express  these  gi'ounds :  If 
 John  was  really  con%inced  of  Christ's  Messiahship,  why  ditl  he 
 continue  his  independent  ministry,  and  not  rather  submit 
 himself  and  all  his  followers  as  disciples  to  Christ?  Why  did 
 ho  wait  until  after  his  impiisonment  before  sending  to  inquire 
 of  Jesus  whether  he  were  the  IMessiah,  or  men  shoiUd  look  for 
 another  ?  ^Vliy,  even  after  the  Baptist's  death,  did  his  disciples 
 preserve  their  separate  existence  as  a  sect  ?     How  happened 
 
58  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 it  that,  in  a  public  proclamation  of  the  Gospel  (Acts  x.  37  ; 
 xiii.  25),  no  stress  is  laid  upon  John's  di\inely  inspired  testi- 
 mony concerning  Christ — nay,  it  is  not  even  quoted — while 
 liis  exhortations  to  repentance  and  his  announcement  of  the 
 coming  Messiah  are  dwelt  upon  as  the  preparation  for  Christ's 
 public  ministiy  1  Do  not  these  difficulties  make  it  doubtful 
 whether  John  really  did,  before  the  time  of  his  imprisonment, 
 recognize  Christ's  Messiahship  1  Or,  is  it  not  probable  that 
 the  Chi'istian  view,  which  sees  in  Chi'ist  the  tpx6[.uyoQ  an- 
 nounced by  John,  was  involuntarily  attributed  to  the  Baptist, 
 and  so  the  tradition  grew  up  that  he  had  personally  recognized 
 the  Messiahship  of  Jesus,  and  introduced  him  into  his  public 
 labours  1  In  this  case  we  should  have  to  admit  that  he  was 
 fii'st  induced,  whUe  in  prison,  by  what  he  heard  of  Christ,  to 
 recognize  liis  calling — and  that  not  only  had  this  fact  been 
 transferred  to  an  earlier  period  in  his  history,  but  too  much 
 made  of  it  altogether. 
 
 Now  it  would  be  easy  to  overthi'ow  this  whole  structure  at 
 once,  by  assuming  the  genuineness  and  authority  of  John's 
 Gospel.^  It  is  true,  as  has  been  before  said,  the  disciple,  after 
 going  beyond  his  master,  might  have  seen  more  in  the  pre- 
 viously uttered  words  of  the  latter  than  he  himself  had  intended ; 
 but,  at  any  rate,  those  words  must  at  least  have  afforded  some 
 groimd  for  the  disciple's  representation.  If  the  above- 
 mentioned  doubts  are  well  groimded,  John's  misrepresentation 
 of  what  occurred  between  the  Baptist  and  Christ  is  notliing 
 short  of  wilful  falsehood.  The  later  Christian  traditions, 
 indeed,  might  have  admitted  such  a  transposition  without  the 
 intent  to  deceive;  but  John  was  an  eye-ioitness.  We  do  not 
 intend,  however,  to  appeal  to  John's  authority,  but  shall 
 examine  the  matter  on  internal  e\'idence,  grounded  on  the 
 nature  of  the  case. 
 
 (1.)  Import  of  the  Baptism  of  Jesus  by  John. 
 We  firsjb  consider  the  baptism  of  Jesus  by  John.  Those  who 
 cany  their  doubts  of  John's  testimony  farthest,  dispute  even 
 tlie  fact  of  this  baptism.  But  this  is  absolutely  groiuidless 
 scepticism ;  for  all  the  New  Testament  accounts,  however  else 
 they  may  differ,  presuppose  the  event  as  a  fact.  It  would  be 
 impossible  to  account  oven  for  the  origin  of  a  such  a  tradition, 
 if  the  event  itself  did  not  originate  it ;  the  very  application  of 
 John's  baptism  to  the  sinless  Jesus  must  have  caused  diffi- 
 
 »  John  i.  7,  15  ;  iii.  32  :  v.  33. 
 
HIS  RELATION  TO  CHRIST.  59 
 
 culties  to  the  Chi-istian  mind,  which  a  peculiar  line  of  thought 
 alone  could  remove.  But,  admitting  the  fact,  it  cannot  be 
 supposed  that  Christ  submitted  to  the  baptism  in  the  same 
 sense,  and  for  the  same  purpose,  as  others  did ;  for  we  can  find 
 no  possible  connecting  link  between  the  sense  of  sin  and  the 
 desire  for  purification  and  redemption  felt  by  aU  ordinary 
 appUcants  for  the  ordinance,  and  the  consciousness  of  the  sin- 
 less Hedeemer.  It  was  with  this  latter,  vmoriginated  con- 
 sciovisness,  however,  that  Jesus  presented  himself  for  baptism. 
 But  we  cannot  suppose  that  he  did  it  in  silence  ;  such  a  course 
 might  have  led  the  Baptist,  if  not  otherwise  enUghtened,  to 
 suppose  that  he  came  forward  in  the  same  relation  to  the 
 ortlinance  as  other  men.  Its  probability  is  diminished,  too,  in, 
 proportion  to  our  idea  of  Jolm's  susceptibility  for  the  dis- 
 closures which  Christ  might  have  made  to  him.  "\Ve  are  led, 
 therefore,  by  the  internal  necessity  of  the  case,  to  suppose  that, 
 in  administering  the  baptism,  he  I'eceived  a  higher  light  in 
 regard  to  the  relation  which  he  himself  sustained  to  Christ. 
 
 (2.)  The  Baptist's  continuance  in  his  Ministry  of  Preparation. 
 We  must  conclude,  however,  that  if  John  did  recognize 
 Jesus  as  Messiah,  he  applied  to  him  all  his  Old  Testament 
 ideas  of  Messiah  as  the  founder  of  a  visible  kingdom.  With 
 these  views  he  would  expect  that  ChrLst  would  bring  about 
 the  public  recognition  of  his  office  by  his  own  Messianic  labours, 
 without  the  aid  of  his  testimony.  This  expectation  would 
 naturally  cause  him  to  forbear  any  pubhc  testimony  to  Christ, 
 and  to  content  himself  with  directing  only  a  few  of  the  most 
 susceptible  of  liis  disciples  to  the  Sa\TLOur ;  but  this  would 
 have  been  a  merely  private  affair,  forming  no  part  of  his  open 
 mission  to  the  world.  That  mission  remained  always  the 
 same,  viz.,  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  Messiah's  kingdom,  and 
 to  point  to  Him  who  was  soon  to  reveal  himself;  not  to  anti- 
 cipate his  self-revelation,  and  to  declare  him  to  the  people  by 
 name  as  the  Messiah.  This  pi'cparatory  position  of  Jolm  had 
 to  continue  imtU  the  time  when  the  entrance  of  Jesus  as 
 Theocratic  King,  upon  the  estabHshment  of  his  kingdom,  gave 
 the  signal  for  aU  to  range  themselves  under  his  banners.  The 
 Baptist,  true  to  the  position  that  had  been  assigned  to  him  in 
 the  Theocratic  development,  had  to  continue  his  labours  until 
 theii-  termination,  a  termination  which  external  circumstances 
 were  soon  to  bring  about.y  As,  therefore,  Jolin's  testimony 
 i'  I  am  gratified  to  find  that  Winer,  one  of  the  most  eminent  investigators 
 
60  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 was  merely  private,  and  never  openly  laid  l>efore  the  people  ; 
 and,  moreover,  as  its  value  depended  entu-ely  upon  the  recog- 
 nition of  John's  own  prophetic  calling  (a  recognition  by  no 
 means  universal  among  the  Jews),  there  is  no  difficulty  in 
 accounting  for  the  fact  that  so  little  use  was  made  of  his  testi- 
 mony in  the  citation  of  proofs  for  Jesus's  Messiahship  by  Peter 
 and  Paul,  in  the  passages  above  referred  to.^ 
 
 (3.^  Possible  ^Yave^mg  in  John's  Conviction  of  the  Messiahship  of  Jesus. 
 Suppose,  now,  that  John's  faith  did  waver  in  his  prison — 
 that,  in  an  unhappy  hour,  he  was  seized  -w-ith  doubts  of  Christ's 
 Messiahship — would  it  follow  that  he  had  not  before  enjoyed 
 and  expressed  \nx\i  Di\-iiie  confidence  his  con's-iction  of  the 
 truth  ?  "Would  the  later  doubt  suffice  to  do  away  with  the 
 earlier  and  out-spoken  certainty  ?  Can  the  man  who  makes 
 such  an  assertion  have  any  idea  of  the  nature  and  develop- 
 ment of  reUgious  conviction  and  knowledge — of  the  relation 
 between  the  Di^•ine,  the  supematui-al,  and  the  natural  ?  It  is 
 true  that  scientific  knowledge  and  con^■iction,  logically  ob- 
 tained, can  never  be  lost  so  long  as  the  intellect  remains  un- 
 impaired ;  but  it  is  quite  another  thing  -w-ith  religions  truths. 
 These  do  not  grow  out  of  logic  ;  but,  pre-supposing  certain 
 spiritual  tendencies  and  aflfections,  they  arise  from  an  imme- 
 cUate  contact  of  the  soul  with  God,  from  a  beam  of  God's 
 light,  penetrating  the  mind  that  is  allied  to  liiiu.     The  know- 
 
 of  Biblical  literature,  has  given  an  intimation  of  the  view  which  I  have 
 here  fully  carried  out.  See  his  "  Biblisches  Eealwijrterbuch,"  i.  692, 
 2nd  ed. 
 
 '  Acts  X.  37;  xiii.  25.  Paul  had  much  more  occasion  to  quote  John's 
 testimony  when  preaching  to  his  disciples  at  Ephesus  (Acts  xix.  1-5K 
 There  is  no  ground  for  a.sserting  positively  that  he  did  not  quote  it,  although 
 the  passage  does  not  state  expressly  that  he  did;  for  it  remains  doubtful 
 whether  the  words  rovr'  lariv  of  verse  4,  are  applied  by  Paid  to  the 
 tpxofitvo^  announced  by  John,  or  were  intended  by  him  to  be  attributed 
 to  the  Baptist.  "VMiat  is  said  of  ApoUos  (Acts  xviii.  25  :  he  was  instructed 
 in  the  way  of  the  Lord,  Icnowing  onb/  the  baptism  of  John)  cannot  be  under- 
 stood nakedly  of  the  pure,  spiritual  Messiahship.  This  could  only  be  the 
 case  if  ococ  rov  Kvpiov  (v.  25)  were  equivalent  to  Oiov  ocov  (v.  26).  and 
 signified  merely  the  way  revealed  by  Gijd,  the  right  way  of  worshipping  God. 
 But  this  cannnot  be.  The  word  Kvpiog  must  be  taken  in  its  specific. 
 Christian  sense,  as  applicable  to  Christ ;  an  interpretation  confirmed  by 
 what  follows,  ^-iz  :  he  taught  diligently  the  things  of  t^e  Lord,  which  cannot 
 refer  to  the  doctrine  of  God,  but  to  the  proclamation  of  Jesus  as  Messiah. 
 But  if  it  could  be  fully  proved  that  all  these  disciples  of  John  knew  as  yet 
 nothing  of  Jesus  as  the  tpxo/iti'oc  announced  by  the  Baptist,  it  would  not 
 aflFect  our  assertion  at  all  ;  for  we  have  already  admitted  that  the  latter 
 only  partially  directed  his  followers  to  Christ  as  Messiah. 
 
UIS  RELATIOX  TO  CHRIST.  61 
 
 ledge  and  the  convictions  which  are  drawn  neither  from  natural 
 reason  nor  from  the  knowledge  of  the  world,  but  are  always 
 rebelled  against  by  the  latter  until  the  whole  spirit  is  pene- 
 trated by  the  Di%ine,  can  retain  their  vitality  only  by  the 
 same  going  forth  of  the  higher  life  wliich  gave  them  birth  ; 
 only  so  far  as  the  soul  can  maintain  itself  in  the  same  atmo- 
 s))here,  and  in  the  same  tendency  to  the  supernatural  and  the 
 Divine.  So  one  may,  when  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  the 
 higher  life,  when  no  vapours  of  earth  dim  his  spiiitual  ^"ision, 
 have  clear  conception  and  conviction  of  religious  truths,  which 
 may  perplex  him  with  obscimties  at  times  when  the  earthly 
 tendencies  prevail  Axid  thus  we  may  explain  the  fluctuations 
 and  transitions  in  the  development  of  religious  life,  convic- 
 tions and  knowledge,  of  which  the  experience  of  Christians  in 
 all  ages  affords  instances.  It  may  be  said  that,  although  this 
 explanation  holds  good  of  religious  life  in  general,  it  cannot 
 apply  to  an  inspired  prophet  like  John,  or  to  the  truths  wliich 
 he  obtained  from  the  light  of  a  supernatural  revelation.  This 
 objection  would  imply  that  a  single  objective  revelation  is  the 
 only  source  of  Christian  truth,  which  is  not  the  case.  The 
 apprehension  of  such  tiTiths  in  every  indi\"idual  mind  rests  not 
 merely  upon  this  single  objective  ground,  but  also  upon  a 
 repetition  of  the  Divine  manifestation  to  the  mind  itself  The 
 difference  between  the  inspired  prophet  and  the  ordinary  Chris- 
 tian believer,  in  regard  to  the  reception  of  God's  truth,  Ls  not 
 a  difierence  in  kind,  but  in  degree.  Christ  declared  that  the 
 least  of  Christians  was  greater  than  John ;  words  that  ill- 
 entitle  us  to  draw  such  a  line  of  distinction  between  the 
 Baptist  and  living  Christians  of  all  ages  as  to  apply  another 
 standard  and  another  law  to  his  religious  life.  It  is  true, 
 there  is  a  lifeless  supematuralism  which  views  all  Divine  com- 
 munications rather  as  overlying  the  mind  than  incorporating 
 themselves  vvith  its  natural  psychological  development ;  and 
 the  opponents  of  revealed  religion  caricature  this  view  to  serve 
 theii'  purpose  of  subverting  the  doctrines  they  so  bitterly  hate. 
 But  notwithstanding,  the  doctrine  of  such  Divine  communica- 
 tion is  perfectly  in  accordance  with  the  facts  of  the  Divine  Ufe 
 as  they  are  stated  in  the  Scriptures  ;  and  we  are  compelled 
 thereby  to  connect  these  manifestations  with  the  natural  gro'wth 
 of  the  mind  in  its  receptive  powers  and  spontaneous  activity  ; 
 to  apply  the  genei-al  laws  of  the  mind  to  the  development  of 
 whatever  is  communicated  to  it  by  a  higher  light. 
 
 As  we  have    before  remarked,  John  stood   between   two 
 
G2  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 different  stages  of  the  developmeni;  of  the  Theocracy.  It  is, 
 therefore,  not  unlikely  that  in  times  of  the  fullest  I'eligions 
 inspii-ation,  caased  in  his  soul  by  Christ's  revelations  to  him, 
 he  obtained  views  of  the  coming  kingdom  which  he  could  not 
 always  hold  fast,  and  his  old  ideas  sometimes  re\T[ved  and  even 
 gained  the  ascendancy.  Although  he  had  just  conceptions  of 
 Messiali's  kingdom  in  regard  to  its  moral  and  religious  ends, 
 he  was  always  inclined  to  connect  worldly  ideas  ^ith  it.  But 
 the  object  of  his  hopes  was  not  realized.  He  heard,  indeed,  a 
 great  deal  about  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  but  saw  him  not  at  the 
 head  of  his  visible  kingdom.  The  signal  so  long  waited  for 
 was  never  given.  Is  it,  therefore,  matter  of  wonder  if,  in 
 some  hour  of  despondency,  the  worldly  element  in  the  Baptist's 
 views  became  too  strong,  and  perplexity  and  doubt  arose  within 
 him  ! 
 
 (4.)  The  Message  from  Prison. 
 The  inqTiiry  which  John  sent  to  the  Sa\4our  from  prison  " 
 shoAvs  that  his  doubts  did  not  refer  at  all  to  the  sujyeriority  of 
 Christ,  but  to  the  question  whether  the  mission  of  the  latter 
 was  the  Mcssiahship  itself,  or  only  a  prepai-ation  for  it.  So  great 
 was  his  respect  for  the  authority  of  Christ,  that  he  expected 
 the  decisive  answer  to  the  question  from  his  own  lips.  Neither 
 the  form  of  the  question  nor  the  Sa^dour  s  reply  favour  the 
 supposition  that  John  was  led,  simply  by  the  reports  of  Christ's 
 labours  which  had  reached  him  in  prison,  to  the  thought  that 
 he  might  be  the  tpx^/utjoc.  Had  this  been  the  case,  Christ 
 would  have  answered  him  as  he  did  others  in  similar  circum- 
 stances ;  he  woidd  not  have  warned  him  not  to  be  perplexed 
 or  offended  because  his  groundless  exj^ectations  in  regard  to 
 the  Messiah  were  not  fully  realized  in  Chiist's  ministry,  but, 
 on  the  contrary,  would  have  cherished  a  faith  which  could 
 grow  up  in  one  who  was  languisliing  in  prison,  and  imable  to 
 see  \nt\\  liis  OAvn  eyes  the  mighty  works  that  were  done,  and 
 would  have  encouraged  him  to  jield  himself  fidly  uji  to  the 
 dawning  conviction.  The  warning  against  nKnrcctXiCiadai  was 
 precisely  apjilicable  to  one  who  had  once  behoved,  but  whose 
 faith  had  wavered  because  his  hopes  were  not  fully  fulfilled. 
 The  answer  of  Jesus,  moreover,  shows  plainly  in  what  expecta- 
 tions John  was  disappointed  :  they  Avere,  as  we  shall  have 
 occasion  to  .show  hereafter,  such  as  grew  out  of  his  Old  Testa- 
 ment stand-point,  and  attributed  an  outwai'd  character  to  the 
 kingdom  of  God. 
 
 •  Matt.  xi.  2,  3. 
 
HIS  KELATIOX  TO  CHRIST.  G3 
 
 (5.)  Conduct  of  John's  Disciples  towards  Jesus. 
 
 It  does  not  militate  at  all  against  our  position,  in  regard  to 
 the  Baptist's  recognition  of  Cluist,  that  many  of  his  disciples 
 did  not  join  the  Sa\iom'  at  a  later  period  ;  and  even  that  a 
 sect  was  formed  from  them  hostile  to  Christianity.  We  have 
 ah'eady  seen  that  it  was  necessary  for  John  to  maintain  his 
 independent  sphere  of  laboiu-,  and  that  his  position  natui*ally 
 led  him  to  dii-ect  only  the  more  susceptible  of  his  disciples  to 
 Jesus,  and  that  too  by  degi'ees.  These  latter  were  probably 
 such  as  had  imbibed  more  of  John's  longing  desire  for  "  liini 
 that  was  to  come,"  than  of  the  austere  and  ascetic  spiiit  of 
 the  sect.  As  to  the  rest,  we  have  only  to  say  that  we  have  no 
 right  to  judge  the  master  by  liis  scholars,  or  the  scholars  by 
 their  master.  Men  who  hold  a  position  prepai-atoiy  and  con- 
 ducive to  a  higher  one,  often  retain  the  peculiar  and  one-sided 
 views  of  their  old  gi'ound,  and  are  even  driven  into  an  attitude 
 of  opposition  to  the  new  and  the  better.  This  seems  to  have 
 been  the  case  with  John's  disciples  in  relation  to  Christianity. 
 
 From  this  full  investigation  of  the  question,  we  cannot  but 
 conclude  that  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  the  historical  veracity 
 of  the  naiTative.  It  is  matter  o^fact,  that  John  openl}'  recog- 
 nized Jesus  as  the  Messiah  when  he  baptized  him.  Having 
 secured  this  firm  historical  basis,  we  proceed  now,  with  the 
 greater  confidence,  to  inquire  into  the  peculiar  import  of  the 
 baptism  itself 
 
 §  42. — Tlic  Phenomena  at  the  Baptism,  and  their  Import. 
 (1.)  No  Ecstatic  Vision. — (2.)  The  Ebionitish  View  and  its  Opposite. — 
 (3.) — Development  of  the  Notion  of  Baptism  in  New  Testament. — 
 (1.)  Tlie  Baptism  of  Christ  not  a  Rite  of  Purification.- — (5.)  But  of 
 Consecration  to  his  Theocratic  Eeign. — (6.)  John's  pre^aoua  Acquaint- 
 ance with  Christ. — (7.)  Explanation  of  John  i.  31. — (S.)  The  Vision 
 and  the  Voice  ;  intended  exclusively  for  the  Baptist. 
 
 Two  questions  present  themselves  here :  the  bearing  of  the 
 baptism  upon  John,  and  its  bearing  upon  Chi-ist.  The  first 
 can  ea.sily  be  gathered  fii'om  what  has  been  said  already,  and 
 from  the  concurrent  accounts  of  the  Evangelists.  It  is  clear 
 that  John  was  to  be  enlightened,  by  a  sign  from  heaven,  in 
 regai'd  to  the  perswi  who  was  to  be  the  ip^of^uror  whom  he 
 himself  had  unconsciously  foretold.  The  second,  however,  i.s 
 not  so  easy  to  answer.  The  accoimts  do  not  harmonize  so  well 
 ^^^th  each  other  on  this  point,  nor  are  aU  men  agreed  in  their 
 opinions  of  the  person  of  Christ ;  and  these  causes  have  given 
 rise  to  several  different  solutions  of  the  question. 
 
G4  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 The  point  to  be  settled  is  tliis  :  Was  the  Di\'iiie  reA-elation 
 made  on  this  occasion  intended,  though  in  diflerent  relations, 
 for  both  John  and  ChrLst ;  not  merely  to  give  the  former  cer- 
 tainty as  to  the  person  of  Messiah,  but  to  impart,  a  finn  con- 
 sciousness of  Messiahship  to  the  latter  ?  And  did  Jesus,  thus 
 for  the  first  tiuie  obtaining  this  full  consciousness,  at  the  same 
 jnoment  receive  the  jiowers  essential  to  liis  Messianic  mission  ? 
 Did  what  John's  eyes  beheld  take  place  really  and  objectively, 
 and  the  fulness  of  the  Holy  Ghost  descend  upon  Jesus  to  fit 
 liim  for  liis  mighty  work  1 
 
 (1.)  No  Ecstatic  Vision  to  be  supposed  in  the  case  of  Christ. 
 If  we  adopt  this  latter  \'iew,  we  must  look  at  all  the  pheno- 
 mena connected  with  the  baptism,  not  as  merely  subjective 
 <jonceptions,  but  as  objective  supernatural y«c<s.  It  is  time,  we 
 may  imagine  a  symbolical  vision  to  have  been  the  medium  of 
 a  Di\-ine  revelation  common  to  Christ  and  John ;  but  we  must 
 certainly  be  permitted  to  doubt  the  application  of  such  a  mode 
 of  revelation  to  Christ.  It  may  be  granted  that  the  Prophets 
 were  sometimes,  in  ecstatic  vision,  carried  beyond  themselves 
 and  overwhelmed  by  a  higher  power;  but  in  these  instances 
 there  is  an  abrupt  suddennes.s,  an  opposition  of  the  human  and 
 the  Di\'ine — a  leap,  so  to  speak,  in  the  development  of  con- 
 sciousness, which  we  could  hardly  imagine  in  connexion  -s^dth 
 the  specific  and  distinctive  nature  of  the  person  of  Christ. 
 Nor,  in  fact,  is  there  a  Idnt  at  such  a  possibility  in  the  Gospel 
 naiTatives. 
 (2.)  Ebionitish  Views  of  the  Miracle  at  the  Baptism,  and  its  Opiwsite. 
 There  arc  two  opposite  stand-points  which  agree  in  ascribing 
 to  the  events  of  the  baptism  the  greatest  importance  in  refe- 
 7'cnce  to  Christ's  Messiahship.  The  finst  is  that  of  the  Ehionitcs, 
 who  deny  Chiist's  specific  Divinity.  It  is,  that  he  not  only 
 i-eceived  from  without,  at  a  definite  period  of  his  life,  the  con- 
 sciousness of  Ids  Divine  mission,  but  also  the  powers  necessaiy, 
 to  its  accom})lislmient.  The  other  \dew  (proceeding,  however, 
 from  firm  beUevers  in  the  divinity  of  Christ)  supposes  tliat  the 
 Divine  Logos,  in  assuming  the  form  of  humanity,  submitted 
 by  this  act  of  self-renunciation,  to  all  the  laws  of  luunan  deve- 
 lopment ;  and  further,  that  when  Christ  passed  from  the  sphere 
 ■of  private  life  to  that  of  his  public  ministrj%  he  was  set  apart 
 and  prepared  for  it  as  the  proiihets  were;  with  this  single 
 element  of  superiority,  viz.  that  he  was  endowed  with  t\\Qj'ul- 
 'iiess  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
 
THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST.  G-5 
 
 As  for  the  fii-st  vieAV,  it  is  not  only  at  vaiiance  with  the 
 whole  cliaracter  of  Christ's  manifestation,  but  alpo  with  all  his 
 own  testimonies  of  himself  In  all  these  there  is  manifested 
 the  conseiousness  of  his  own  gi-eatness,  not  as  something  ac- 
 <|uirecl,  but  as  unoriginated,  and  inseparable  from  his  being. 
 He  does  not  speak  like  one  wlio  has  become  wliat  he  is  by 
 some  sudden  revolution.  In  short,  this  whole  mode  of  tliink- 
 iiig  spiings  from  an  outward  supernatui'alism,  which  represents 
 the  I)i\aue  a.s  antagonist  to  the  human,  and  im})oses  it  upon 
 Olnist  from  without ;  instead  of  considering  his  entire  mani- 
 festation from  the  beginning  as  Di^dne  and  supernatural,  of 
 deriving  eveiything  from  this  fundamental  gi-ound,  and  recog- 
 nizing in  it  the  aim  of  all  the  special  revelations  of  the  old 
 dispensation.  This  is  a  continuation  of  the  old  Jewisli  view 
 of  the  progi-ess  of  the  Theocracy :  all  is  fomied  from  without, 
 instead  of  developing  itself  organically  from  Avntliin;  the  Divnne 
 is  an  abrupt  exhibition  of  the  supernatural.  How  opposite  to 
 this  is  the  view  which  sees  in  the  human  the  form  of  manifes- 
 tation under  wliich  the  Divine  nature  has  revealed  itself  from 
 the  beginning,  and  perceives,  in  this  original  and  thorough  in- 
 terpeneti'ation  of  the  Di\dne  and  the  luunan,  the  aim  and  the 
 culmination  of  all  miracles. 
 
 The  second  view  above  mentioned  will  ap]>ear  the  most 
 simple  and  natural,  if,  instead  of  consideruig  a  Divine  commu- 
 nication from  \vithout  to  have  been  made  necessary  by  the 
 self-renunciation  of  the  Logos  in  assuming  luunan  form,  we 
 admit  a  gi'adual  revelation  (in  accordance  with  the  laws  of 
 human  development)  of  the  Divine  nature,  potentially  present, 
 as  the  gi-ound  of  the  incarnate  being,  from  the  very  first,  and 
 ti-ace  all  that  appears  in  the  outward  manifestation  to  the  \)ro- 
 cess  of  development  from  within.  In  the  lives  of  all  other 
 reformers,  or  founders  of  religions,  whose  call  seems  to  have 
 dated  from  a  certain  period  of  life,  the  bu'th-time,  as  it  were, 
 of  their  actiAdty,  it  is  impos.sible  not  to  trace,  in  their  later 
 labours  and  in  their  own  personal  statements,  some  i-eferences 
 to  the  earlier  period  when  their  call  was  unfelt.^  In  the  dis- 
 courses of  Christ,  however,  there  is  not  the  most  distant  ap- 
 proach to  such  an  allusion. 
 
 (3.)  DiflFerent  Steps  in  the  New  Testament  Notion  of  tlie  Baptism,  up  to 
 
 that  of  John  the  Evangelist. 
 
 In  the  revelations  of  the  New  Test.vment,  and  in  the  process 
 
 of  the  development  of  Christianity  which   those  revelations 
 
 ^  As  in  Luther  we  see  frequent  references  to  the  light  which  first  broke 
 
 P 
 
66  JOHX  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 unfold,  we  can  dLstingnisli  various  steps,  or  stages,  of  progress 
 from  the  Old  Testament  ideas  to  the  New.  Especially  is  this 
 the  case  in  regard  to  the  person  of  Christ.  The  conception  of 
 Chi-ist,  as  anointed  with  the  fulness  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and 
 superior  to  all  other  prophets,  is  akin  to  Old  Testament  ideas, 
 and  forms  the  point  of  transition  to  the  ITew,  which  rest  upon 
 the  manifestation  of  Christ.  But  it  required  a  completely 
 developed  Christian  consciousness  to  recognise,  in  his  appear- 
 ance on  earth,  the  Divine  glory  as  inherent  in  him  from  the 
 beginning,  and  progressive  only  so  far  as  its  outward  manifes- 
 tation was  concerned.  These  two  views,  however,  by  no  means 
 exclude  each  other;  the  one  is  rather  the  complement  of  the 
 other,  while  both,  at  a  different  stage  of  development,  tend  to 
 one  and  the  same  definite  aim.  And  the  latter,  or  highest 
 stage  of  Christian  consciousness,  we  ai*e  naturally  to  look  for 
 in  that  beloved  apostle  who  enjoyed,  the  closest  degree  of 
 intimacy  with  Christ,  and  was,  on  that  account,  best  of  all 
 able  to  vmderstand  profoundly  both  his  manifestation  and  his 
 discoui'ses.  From  John,  too,  we  must  expect  the  highest 
 Chiistian  view  of  the  person  of  Christ.  [The  accoimt  of  the 
 principal  event  of  the  baptism  is  thus  given  in  John's  Gospel : 
 '•  And  John  bare  record,  sajdng,  /  saw  the  Spirit  descending 
 from  Iieaven  like  a  dove,  and  it  abode  upon  him.  And  I  knew 
 him  not;  hut  he  that  sent  me  to  baptize  with  water,  the  same  said 
 unto  me,  Upon  whom  tltmi  shalt  see  the  Spirit  descending,  and 
 remaining  on  him,  tJie  same  is  he  lohich  baptizeth  with  the  Holy 
 Ghost.  And  I  saw  and  hare  record  that  this  is  the  Son  o/'GoD."'=] 
 Now  the  fact  thus  stated,  if  intei*preted  in  an  outward  and 
 material  sense,  and  combined  with  the  view  of  Clirist  which 
 we  mentioned  a  while  ago  as  akin  to  the  Jewish  ideas,  might 
 easUy  give  rise  to  the  doctiine  that  Christ  obtained  at  the 
 baptism  something  which  he  had  not  possessed  before. 
 
 Our  conchision  is,  that  Christ  was  already  sure  of  his  Di^-iiic 
 call  to  the  Messiahship,  and  submitted  himself,  in  the  course 
 of  the  Theocratic  development,  to  baptism,  a,s  a  preparative 
 and  inaugural  rite,  from  the  hands  of  the  man  who  was  des- 
 tined to  conduct  prophecy  to  its  fulfilment,  and  to  be  the  first 
 to  recognize,  by  light  from  heaven,  the  manifested  Messiah. 
 
 (4.)  The  Baptism  not  a  Rito  of  Purification. 
 The  idea  that  Christ  was  baptized  with  a  view  to  purification 
 is  absolutely  untenable,  no  matter  how  the  notion  of  purifica- 
 
 upon  Lis  mind  during  his  monastic  life  at  Erfurth,  an  epoch  of  the  utmost 
 moment  to  his  after  career  as  a  reformer.  '  John  i.  32-34. 
 
THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST.  b  < 
 
 tion  may  be  modified.  Akin  to  this  idea,  certainly,  is  the  view 
 held  by  some,*^  that  he  submitted  to  this  act  of  seLf-hiuniliatioii 
 in  the  same  sense  in  which  he  humbled  himself  before  God,  as 
 the  One  alone  to  be  called  good.^  This  A-iew  -would  suppose 
 him  conscious,  not  of  actual  sin,  but  of  a  dormant  possibility  of 
 sin,  inherent  in  his  finite  nature  and  his  human  organism, 
 always  restrained,  however,  by  the  steadfast  firmness  of  his 
 will,  from  passing  into  action.  But  if  we  suppose  in  Chi'ist 
 the  abstract  possibility  to  sin^  which  is  inseparable  from  a 
 created  will,  pure  but  not  yet  immutable — such  a  capability  as 
 we  attribtite  to  the  fii'st  man  before  the  fall — even  this  would 
 not  necessarily  connect  with  itself  a  dormant,  hidden  sinful- 
 ness, involving  in  him  a  conscious  need  of  purification  in  any 
 sense  whatever.  Such  a  consciousness  can  grow  only  out  of  a 
 sense  of  inherent  moral  defilement,  by  no  means  originally 
 belonging  to  the  conception  of  a  created  being,  or  of  human 
 natui-e.  We  cannot  admit  a  dormant  principle  of  sin  as  an 
 essential  element  of  the  moral  development  of  man's  original 
 being.  Sin  is  an  act  of  free  will,  and  cannot  be  derived  from 
 any  other  source,  or  explained  in  any  other  way.s  There  is, 
 then,  in  Christ's  humbling  himself,  in  his  human  capacity, 
 before  God,  the  only  Good,  no  trace  of  that  sense  of  need  and 
 want  with  which  the  sinner,  conscious  of  guilt,  bows  himself 
 before  the  Holy  One.  The  act  manifested  only  a  sense,  deeply 
 grounded  in  liis  holy,  sinless  nature,  of  absolute  dependence 
 upon  the  Soui-ce  of  all  good. 
 
 (5.)  The  Baptism  of  Christ  a  Kite  of  Conaecration  to  his  Theocratic  Reigii. 
 All  difficulties  are  cleared  away  by  consideiing  John's  bap- 
 tism as  a  rite  of  preparation  and  consecration,  first  in  its  apiili- 
 cation  to  the  members  of  the  Theocratic  kingdom,  and  secondly 
 to  its  Founder  and  Sovereign.  The  repentance  and  the  sense 
 of  sin  which  were  essential  preliminaries  to  the  baptism  of  the 
 former,  co\ild  in  no  way  belong  to  Him  who,  at  the  very 
 moment  when  the  rite  was  administered,  revealed  himself  to 
 
 ■•  Be  Wette,  on  Matt.  iii.  16.  Conf.  liis  Sittcnlchre,  §  49,  50 ;  and 
 Sb-auss,  too,  after  he  had  seen  that  the  view  formerly  expressed  by  him 
 was  untenable  (1.  c.  432,  433).  «  Matt.  xix.  17. 
 
 '  This  is  not  the  place  to  examine  the  old  controversy  whether  Christ'.-; 
 sinlessness  is  to  be  regarded  as  a  2^osse  non  peccare  or  a  non  posse  peccarc. 
 
 E  We  cannot  enter  further  into  this  subject  here,  but  fcike  pleasure  in 
 referring  our  readers  to  the  late  excellent  work  of  /.  Miillcr,  viz.  "  Die 
 Lehre  von  der  Siinde,"  in  which  the  subject  is  treated  with  remarkable 
 depth  and  clearness.  The  new  elucidations,  in  the  second  edition  espe- 
 cially, evince  a  soundness  of  mind  that  is  not  more  rare  than  excellent. 
 
 f2 
 
68  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 the  Baptist  as  tlie  Messiah,  the  deliverer  from  sin.  But  while 
 the  import  of  the  lite  thus  vaiied  with  the  subjects  to  whom 
 it  was  administered,  there  was,  at  bottom,  a  substantial  element 
 which  they  shared  in  common.  In  both  it  marked  the  com- 
 mencement of  a  new  course  of  life  ;  but,  in  the  members,  this 
 new  life  was  to  be  received  from  without  through  communica- 
 tions from  on  high  :  while  in  Chiist  it  was  to  consist  of  a 
 gi-adual  unfolding  from  "vvithin  ;  in  the  former  it  was  to  be 
 receptive  ;  in  the  latter  productive.  In  a  word,  the  baptism 
 of  the  members  prepai-ed  them  to  receUm  pardon  and  salvation ; 
 that  of  Christ  was  his  consecration  to  the  work  of  hestowimj 
 those  precious  gifts. 
 
 (6.)  Had  John  a  previous  Acquaintance  with  Christ? 
 If  the  Baptist  had  an  eai'lier  acquaintance  with  Jesus,  he 
 could  not  have  failed,  wdth  his  suscejitible  feelings,  to  receive 
 a  deeper  impression  of  his  divinity  than  other  men.  We 
 cannot  but  infer,  from  Liike's^  statement  (chap,  i.)  of  the  rela- 
 tionship ^  between  the  two  families,  that  he  had  heard  of  the 
 
 ''  The  Apocryphal  Gospels  contain  many  fables  in  regard  to  Mary's 
 descent  from  a  priestly  lineage,  arising,  perhaps,  from  the  fact  that  the 
 Messiah  was  to  be  both  high-priest  and  king.  (So  in  the  second  Testa- 
 ment of  the  Twelve  Patriarchs,  the  Testament  of  Simeon,  §  7  :  avaarljati 
 Kvpioc  tK  Twv  Aivi  apxiepia  Kui  tK  raiv'lovca  fSaaiXia, hoth  in  the  person 
 of  the  Messiah.)  There  is  nothing  akin  to  these  in  Luke's  account  of  the 
 relationship  between  Mary  and  Elizabeth,  the  latter  being  of  priestly 
 lineage,  which  is  only  given  en  passant ;  the  stress  is  laid  upon  the  descent 
 from  David's  line. 
 
 '  Matthew's  omission  to  mention  this  relationship,  and  to  give  any 
 reason  for  John's  reluctance  to  baptize  Christ,  only  proves  his  narrative 
 to  be  more  artless,  and  therefore  more  credible.  The  Ebionitish  Gospel 
 to  the  Hebrews  shows  far  greater  marks  of  design,  and,  indeed,-  of  an 
 alteration  for  a  set  ])urpose.  It  represents  the  miraculous  appearances  as 
 preceding  and  causing  .John's  conduct. — When  John  hears  the  voice  from 
 heaven,  and  sees  the  miraculous  light,  he  inquires,  W/io  art  thou?  A 
 second  voice  is  heard  to  reply.  This  is  my  beloved  Smi,  in  tchom  I  am  well 
 pleased.  Jolm  is  thereby  led  to  fall  at  his  feet  and  cry,  Baptize  thou  me. 
 Christ,  refusing  him,  says.  Suffer  it. — Here  not  only  are  the  phenomena 
 exaggerated,  but  the  facts  are  remodelled  to  suit  Ebionitish  views,  which 
 denied  the  miraculous  events  at  Christ's  birth,  and  demanded  that  the 
 sudden  change  by  which  he  was  called  and  fitted  for  the  Messiahship  at 
 the  moment  of  haptism  should  be  made  prominent  by  contrast  with  all 
 that  had  gone  before.  They  conceived,  accordingly,  that  he  fast  received 
 the  Holy  Ghost  when  it  descended  upon  him  in  tlie  form  of  a  dove,  and 
 that  at  that  period  he  was  endowed  with  a  new  dignity,  and  must  offer 
 new  uianifestiitions.  His  Divine  character  was  thus  obtained  in  a  sudden, 
 magical  way  :  and  the  two  periods  of  his  life,  before  and  after  that  event, 
 were  brought  into  clear  and  sharp  contrast :  every  thing  that  occurred  at 
 the  baptism  was  deemed  miracukius,  while  all  the  wonders  of  his  previous 
 
THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST.  69 
 
 extraordinary  circumstances  attending  tlie  birth  of  Jesus.  The 
 Sa\doiir  "prayed"  at  the  baptism  (Luke  iii.  21).  If  Ave  figure 
 to  ourselves  his  countenance,  full  of  holy  devotion  and  heavenly 
 repose,  as  he  stood  in  pi-ayer,  and  its  sudden  association,  in  the 
 mind  of  the  Baptist,  with  all  his  recollections  of  the  early 
 liistory  of  Jesus,  vre  cannot  wonder  that  the  humble  man  of 
 God — all  aware  as  he  was  that  the  Messiah  was  to  be  conse- 
 crated by  his  baptism — should  have  been  overwhelmed,  in 
 that  hoiu-  so  pregnant  with  mighty  interests,  with  a  sense  of 
 Ids  own  comparative  iinwoi'thiness,  and  cried,  "  /  have  need  to 
 be  bajjtized  of  tloec,  and  contest  thoic  to  me  ?  " 
 (7.)  Explanation  of  John  i.  31. 
 One  of  two  things  must  be  tnie  :  either  John  baptized 
 Christ  with  sole  and  special  reference  to  his  Messianic  mission, 
 or  with  the  same  end  in  view  as  in  his  ordinary  administration 
 of  the  rite,  involving  in  its  subjects  a  consciousness  of  sin  and 
 need  of  repentance.     Now  it  is  clear  that  he  did  not  take 
 
 life  were  rejected  ;  in  short,  his  Divine  and  human  nature  were  rudely 
 torn  asunder.  We  see  in  all  this  the  effect  of  a  one-sided  theory  in  obscuring 
 histor}',  and  detect  in  it  also  the  germ  of  a  tendency  which  led  the  way 
 from  Judaism  to  Gnosticism.  So  it  was  with  the  doctrines  of  Cerinthus 
 and  Basilides  on  the  person  of  Christ,  according  to  which  Christ  possessed, 
 as  man,  the  ajuapr»;ri(c6j'  of  human  nature  (although  it  never  became 
 actual  sin  in  him)  ;  and  the  Redeemer  was  not  Christ,  but  the  heaveidy 
 Spirit  that  descended  upon  him.  Another  instance  of  the  way  in  which 
 the  general  object  of  John's  baptism  (viz.  purification  and  forgiveness) 
 was  brought  to  bear  upon  the  doctrine  of  the  person  of  Christ  may  be 
 seen  in  the  Gospel  of  the  Nazarenes,  translated  by  Jerome,  in  which  the 
 account  runs,  that  when  Christ  was  asked  by  his  mother  and  brothers  to 
 go  with  them  to  John,  in  order  to  be  baptized  for  the  remission  of  sins,  lie 
 replied,  quid  2>eccavi,  ut  vadam  ct  haptizcr  ah  co,  nisi  forte  hoc  i2>si'.m  quod 
 dixi  ignorantia  est  ("  unless  I,  who  have  not  sinned,  carry  the  germ  of  sin 
 unconsciously  within  me").  (Hieron.  b.  iii.  Dialog,  adv.  Pelag.  ad  init.) 
 It  is  seen  more  strongly  still  in  the  Ki'ipvyfia  YlsTpov,  according  to  which 
 Christ  made  his  confession  of  sin  before  the  baptism,  but  was  glorified  after 
 it.  Thus  we  see  two  opposite  tendencies  conspiring  to  falsify  history  in 
 the  life  of  Christ.  The  one  sought  falsely  to  ylorifij  his  early  life,  and 
 embellished  his  childliood  with  tales  of  marvel  ;  the  other  sought  to  derp'ade 
 his  prior  life  as  much  as  possible,  in  order  to  derive  all  that  he  afterwards 
 became  fi-om  his  Messianic  inauguration.  Tlie  relation  of  our  Gospels  to 
 both  these  false  and  one-sided  tendencies  is  a  proof  of  their  originality.  I 
 cannot  suppose,  with  Dr.  Schneckotburgcr  (Studien  der  Evang.  Geistlich- 
 keit  Wiirtemburgp,  Bd.  iv.  s.  1'2'2),  that  Matthew's  simple  account  of 
 Christ's  baptism  was  abridged  from  the  Ebionitish  narrative,  which,  as  we 
 have  seen,  gives  evidence  of  a  designedly  false  colouring.  Nor  can  I  agrc« 
 with  ^/»/m  and  Bleck  (Stud.  u.  Krit.  Bd.  ii.  s.  44t).%ind  1833,  s.  436), 
 that  the  dialogue  between  John  and  Christ,  which,  according  to  the 
 Ebionitish  version,  took  place  during  the  baptism,  is  inaccurately  placed 
 by  Matthew  before  it. 
 
70  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 upon  liimself  to  decide  to  what  individual  the  jMessianic  bap- 
 tism was  to  be  administered,  nor  was  he  willing  to  rest  it  upon 
 any  human  testimony,  but  waited  for  the  promised  sign  from 
 heaven ;  and  as  for  Jesus's  receiving  the  rite  in  the  second 
 sense  at  his  hands,  his  own  religious  sense  must  have  rebelled 
 against  it.  Nor  is  this  contradicted  by  his  words  recorded  in 
 John  i.  31,  '-And  I  knew  him  not ;  but  t/uit  he  should  be  made 
 mnttiiifest  to  Israel,  therefore  am  I  come  baptizing  unth  icater." 
 Johns  refusal  to  baptize  Chiist  did  not  necessarily  involve  (as 
 we  have  already  said)  a  knowledge  of  Ids  INIessianic  dignity ; 
 and  the  words  just  quoted  refer  only  to  that  dignity.  He 
 means  to  say  mth  emphasis  that  his  con-viction  of  Christ's 
 Messiahship  is  not  of  human,  but  of  Divine  origin.  His  pre- 
 vious expectations,  founded  upon  his  knowledge  of  the  circum- 
 stances of  Christ's  birth,  were  held  as  nothing  in  comparison 
 with  the  Divine  testimony  immediately  vouchsafed  to  him.  i 
 
 (8.)  The  Vision  at  the  Baptism,  and  the  Voice,  intended  exclusively  for 
 the  Baptist. 
 
 When  the  Baptist  thus  drew  back  in  reverence  and  awe, 
 Christ  encouraged  him,  saying,  "  For  tJie  present,  ^  suffer  it ; 
 for  thus  it  becomes  us   (each  from  his  own  stand-point)  to 
 
 J  It  was  the  main  object  of  John  the  Evangelist  to  bring  out  prominently 
 the  Divine  testimony  given  to  John  the  Baptist  (as  the  latter  pointed  the 
 former  originally  to  Christ) ;  the  knowledge  which  the  latter  had  derived 
 from  human  sources  was  comparatively  unimportant.  In  fact,  he  seems 
 not  to  have  thought  anything  about  it,  and  hence  his  words  may  implj'  that 
 the  Baptist  had  no  pre\aous  acquaintance  at  all  with  Christ  ;  but  such  an 
 interpretation  of  them  is  not  necessary,  considering  the  definite  end  which 
 he  had  in  view.  Let  an  event  be  described  by  different  eye-witnesses,  and 
 their  accounts  wiU  present  varieties  and  even  contrasts,  simply  because  each 
 of  them  seizes  strongly  upon  some  one  point,  and  leaves  the  rest  compara- 
 tively in  the  background.  True,  there  are  degrees  in  historical  accuracy, 
 und  we  must  distinguish  them.  In  this  case,  the  one  co-tain  fact,  involved 
 in  all  the  narratives,  however  they  may  differ  in  other  respects,  is,  that  the 
 Baptist  was  led,  by  a  revelation  made  to  him  at  the  time,  to  consecrate 
 Jesus  to  the  Messiahship  by  baptism.  This  fact  must  remain,  even  if  the 
 other  discrepancies  were  irreconcileable.  M'e  ahvaj's  consider  a  thing  stated 
 in  common  by  several  variant  historical  narratives,  to  be  more  probably 
 historically  true. 
 
 ■'  Showing  that  this  relation  between  him  and  the  Baptist  was  to  be  but 
 momentary,  and  soon  to  be  followed  by  a  very  dififerent  one.  De  WetU's 
 remarks  (Comm.  2nd  edit.)  seem  to  me  not  very  cogent.  "  Christ  describes 
 his  baptism  as  irftfTrov,  and  hence  this  view  cannot  be  correct."  But  what 
 made  it  -Tzpiirov,  was  the  fact  that  it  was  but  transitory  and  prep.aratory  to 
 the  revektion  of  Christ  in  all  his  glorj'.  The  remark  of  Christ  applied  to 
 the  mow,  and  only  to  the  now.  The  upri  implies  the  contrast,  which  is  not 
 expressed. 
 
THE  BAPTISM  OF  CHRIST.  71 
 
 luMl  all  that  belongs  to  the  order  of  God's  kingdom."  While 
 Jesus  prayed  and  was  baptized,  the  reverence  "with  which 
 John  gazed  upon  him  was  heightened  into  prophetic  inspira- 
 tion ;  and  in  this  state  he  received  the  revelation  of  the  Divine 
 Spirit  in  the  form  of  a  symbolical  vision  ;  the  heavens  opened, 
 and  he  saw  a  dove  descend  and  hover  over  the  head  of  Christ. 
 In  tliis  he  saw  a  sign  of  the  permanent  abode  of  the  Holy 
 Spirit  in  Jesus  ;  not  merely  as  a  distinction  from  the  inspired 
 seers  of  the  old  dispensation,  but  also  as  the  necessary  condition 
 to  his  bestowing  the  Divine  life  upon  others.  It  indicated 
 that  the  power  of  the  Spirit  in  him  was  not  a  sudden  and 
 abrupt  manifestation,  as  it  was  in  the  prophets,  who  felt  its 
 inspiration  at  certain  times  and  by  transitory  impulses  ;  but  a 
 continuous  and  unbroken  operation  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the 
 infinite  fiilness  of  the  Divine  life  in  human  form.  The  quiet 
 flight  and  the  resting  dove  betokened  no  rushing  ton'ent  of 
 inspiration,  no  sudden  seizure  of  the  Spirit,  but  a  imiform 
 imfolding  of  the  life  of  God,  the  loftiness,  yet  the  calm  repose 
 of  a  nature  itself  Divine,  the  indwelling  of  the  Spirit  so  that 
 he  could  impart  it  to  others  and  fill  them  completely  with  it, 
 not  as  a  prophet,  but  as  a  Creator. 
 
 The  higher  and  essential  unity  of  the  Divine  and  hvmian, ' 
 as  original  and  permanent  in  Christ,  which  formed  the  sub- 
 stance symbolized  by  the  vision,  was  further  and  more  dis- 
 tinctly indicated  to  John  by  the  voice  from  heaven,™  saying, 
 "  This  is  my  beloved  Son,  in  wJiom  I  am  well  pleased."     Words 
 
 '  We  do  not  intend  to  say,  by  any  means,  that  John  comprehended  this 
 in  the  full  sense  which  we,  from  the  Christian  stand-point,  are  able  to 
 give  to  it. 
 
 "  Although  the  words  of  the  voice,  as  given  in  our  Gospels,  contain  at 
 most  only  an  allusion  to  Psahn  ii.  7,  we  find  that  passage  fully  quoted  in 
 the  Ebionitish  Evang.  ad  Hchrceos.  The  words  are  still  better  put  together 
 in  the  Nazarean  Gospel  of  the  Hebrews,  used  by  Jerome :  Factum  est 
 autem  quura  ascendisset  Dominus  do  aqua,  descendit  fons  omnis  Spiritus 
 Sancti  et  requievit  super  eum,  ct  dixit  illi ;  Fill  mi,  in  omnibus  prophetis 
 expectabam  te,  ut  yenii-es  et  requiescerem  in  te.  Tu  es  enim  requies  mea, 
 tu  es  filius  mens  primogenitus,  qui  regnas  in  sempitemum  (Hieron.  1.  iv. 
 in  Esaiam,  c.  xi.  ed.  Vallarsi,  t.  iv.  p.  1,  f.  156).  Here  a  profound 
 Christian  sense  is  expressed  :  Christ  is  the  aim  of  the  whole  Theocratic 
 development,  and  the  partial  revelations  of  the  Old  Testament  were  directed 
 to  him  as  the  concentration  of  all  Divinity  ;  in  him  the  Holy  Ghost  finds 
 a  permanent  abode  in  humanity,  a  resting-place  for  which  it  strove  in  all 
 its  wanderings  through  these  isolated,  fragmentary  revelations  ;  he  is  the 
 Son  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  in  so  far  as  the  fulness  of  the  Holy  Ghost  is 
 concentrated  in  him.  But  although  a  Christian  sense  is  given,  the  histo- 
 rical facts  are  obviously  coloured. 
 
72  JOUy  TIIK  BAl'TIST. 
 
 tliat  cannot  possibl}'  hv  a{)plicable,  in  their  full  meaning,  tt> 
 any  mere  man,  but  to  Him  alone  iu  whom  the  i>erfect  union  of 
 God  and  man  was  exhiljited,  and  the.  ulea  of  humanity  com- 
 pletely realized.  It  Avas  tliis  union  that  made  it  possible  for  a 
 holy  God  to  be  tcell  pk'asetl  in  man.  John's  Gospel,  it  is  true, 
 makes  no  mention  of  this  voice  ;  but  it  ^\\\\  be  better  recollected 
 that  this  evan^eliiit  does  not  relate  the  baptiam  (Jolm  i.  29,  33). 
 but  cites  John  Bajjtist  a.s  referring  to  it  at  some  later  period. 
 The  subse(]uent  testimony  of  the  Baptist,  thus  recorded  ("  / 
 saw  ami  hear  record  that  tliis  is  the  Son  of  God,"  v.  34),  presup- 
 poses the  heavenly  a  oice  which  pointed  out  that  8on.ship.  At 
 all  events,  the  voice  expressed  nothing  difterent  from  the  un- 
 port  of  the  vi.sion  ;  it  was  the  exjyression  of  the  idea  wliich  tiie 
 vi.sion  itself  in\olved. 
 
 We  consider,  then,  that  the  vision  and  the  voice  contained 
 a  subjective  re\elation  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  intended  exclusively 
 for  tlie  Baptist, "  to  convince  liim  thoroughly  that  He  whose 
 coming  he  had  proclaimeil,  and  whose  way  he  had  i>repared, 
 had  really  appeared.     He  was  alone  with  Jesus ;  the  latter 
 
 "  We  follow  here  especially  the  account  of  John,  according  to  whom  the 
 Baptist  testified  only  of  what  he  had  seen  and  heard.     If  this  .statement  l»e 
 pre-8upposed  as  the  original  one,  the  rest  could  easily  he  derived  from  it. 
 What  the  Baptist  stated  as  a  real  fact  for  himself  would  reatlily  assume 
 an  objective  form  wlien  related  by  others.     This  original  apprehension  of 
 the  matter  seems  to   appear   also  in   Matthew   (iii.   Ki),   both  fivmi  the 
 heavenly  voice  being  mentioned  in  indirect  narration,  and  from  the  relation 
 of  ilct  to  avTov  ;  although  the  expression  is  not  perfectly  clear  (conf.  Bleek. 
 Stud.  u.  Krit.  1833,  a.  433,  and  2*0  Wdtc,  in  loc).     A  confinuation  of  the 
 originality  of  Mattliew'.s  account  may  be  obtained  by  comiviring  it  with 
 that   in   the   Ebiouitish  Gospel.     In  this,   first,  the  words   are   directly 
 addressed  to  Christ,  and  Psalm  ii.  7,  fully  quoted  :  then  a  sudden  light 
 illuminates  the  place,  and  tlie  voice  repeats  anew,  in  an  altogetlier  objective 
 way,    the  words  that  had  been  directed  to  Christ.     In  comparing  our 
 Evangelists  witli  eacli  other,  and  with  the  El)iomtish  Gospel,  we  see  how 
 the  simple  historical  statement  passed,  by  \-arious  interpolations,  into  the 
 Ebionitish  form  ;  and  how  a  material  alteration  of  the  facts  arose  from  a 
 change  of  form,  tlirough  the  addition  of  an  imaginary- and  foreign  dogmatic 
 element.     These  accounts  form  the  basis,  also,  of  the  view  held  by  the  sect 
 called  Mandceans  {Zabii,  du-iciples  ot  John),  who  comV>ined  the  elements  of 
 a  sect  of  John's  ilisciples  Kjiposed  to  Christianity,  with  Gnostic  elements. 
 But  as  their  object  was  to  glorify  the  Baptist  rather  than  Christ,  they 
 furtiier  distorted  and  disfigured  the  original  with  new  inventions.     "  The 
 Spirit,  called  the  Mciscttf/er  of  Life,  in  who.se  name  John  l)aptized,  appears 
 from    a   higher    region,    manifests   still    more  extraordinary  ])henomena. 
 submits  to  l»e  baptized  by  John.  a)id  then  transfigures  him  with  celestuil 
 Tadiance.     Jesus  afterward  comes  hypocritically  to  l>e  baptized  by  John, 
 in  order  to  draw  away  the  people  and  corrupt  his  doctrine  and  l>aptism." 
 See  Norberg's  Rdi^fiombuch  of  this  sect.) 
 
THE  TEMPTATION.  73 
 
 needed  no  sucli  revelation.  WHiat  was  gi'anted  to  Jolin  was 
 ouoiigh ;  he  recognized,  iniallibly,  the  voice  from  heaven,  and 
 the  revelation  of  the  Spirit,  by  his  inward  sense  ;  no  outward 
 aensible  impression  conld  give  him  more.  For  othei-s  the 
 vision  was  not  intended  ;  it  could  benefit  them  only  mediately 
 through  him,  and  in  case  they  regarded  him  as  a  prophet. 
 
 After  Jesus  had  thus,  alone  vnth  John,  submitted  to  his 
 l)aptism,  and  received  in  it  tlie  sign  for  the  commencement  of 
 his  public  Messianic  ministry,  he  ^vithdrew  into  solitude  in 
 order  to  prepare  himself,  by  prayer  and  meditation,"  for  the 
 work  on  which  he  was  about  to  enter.  This  biings  us  to 
 inquue  more  closely  into  Christ's  subjective  preparation  for  liis 
 public  labours. 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 SUBJECTIVE  PEEPAEATIOX.     THE  TEMPTATIOX. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 IMPORT  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 While,  on  the  one  hand,  we  do  not  conceive  that  the  indi- 
 \-idual  features  of  the  account  of  the  Temptation  are  to  be 
 literally  taken,  the  i")rincii)les  wliich  triimiph  so  gloriously  in 
 its  course  bear  the  evident  stamp  of  that  wisdom  which  eveiy 
 where  shines  forth  from  the  life  of  Christ.  Its  veracity  is 
 undeniably  confirmed  by  the  period  which  it  occupies  between 
 the  baptism  of  Chi'ist  and  his  entrance  on  his  public  ministiy  ; 
 the  silent,  solitaiy  i)reparatiou  was  a  natural  transition  from 
 
 "  Tlie  chronology  of  the  Gospeln  hy  no  means  excludas  such  a  time  of 
 preparation,  althougli  we  cannot  decide  whether  the  "forty  days"  are  to  be 
 taken  literally,  or  only  as  a  round  number.  John's  Go.'q>el,  as  we  have 
 said,  does  not  relate  the  baptism  in  its  chronological  connection  (John  i. 
 19,  presupposes  the  occurrence  of  the  Uaptism)  :  so  that  there  is  no  difficulty 
 in  supposing  a  lapse  of  several  weeks  l)etween  the  baptism  and  the  first 
 public  a])]>t;arance  of  Christ.  Tlie  words  in  John  i.  '29,  may  have  been 
 the  greeting  of  the  Baptist  on  first  meeting  Christ  upon  his  re-ap])earance. 
 Nor  does  the  retirement  of  Christ  throw  a  shade  upon  the  credibility  of  the 
 narrative  as  matter  of  fact.  It  is  entirely  opposed  to  the  mythical  theory  ; 
 for  we  do  not  see  in  ijL  (as  we  should  were  it  a  mj/thvs)  any  of  the  ideas  of 
 the  people  among  whom  Christianity  originated  ;  on  the  contrary,  it  dis- 
 plays a  wisdom  and  circumspection  in  direct  antagonism  to  the  i)revailing 
 tendencies  of  the  time.  As  St.  John's  object  'wa.s  only  to  state  those 
 facts  in  Christ's  life  of  which  ho  had  himself  l^een  .in  eye-witness,  his 
 silence  on  the  subject  is  easil}-  accounted  for. 
 
74  THE  TEMPT ATIOX. 
 
 the  one  to  the  othei'.  We  conclude,  from  both  these  consider- 
 ations together,  that  the  account  contains  not  only  an  ideal, 
 but  also  an  historical  truth,  conveyed,  however,  under  a  sym- 
 bolical form.P 
 
 The  easiest  part  of  our  task  is  to  ascertain  the  import  of  the 
 several  parts  of  the  Temptation,  and  to  this  we  now  address 
 oui'selves.  We  shall  find  in  them  the  principles  which  guided 
 Jesus  thi-ough  his  whole  Messianic  calling — principles  directly 
 opposed  to  the  notions  prevalent  among  the  Jews  in  regard  to 
 the  Messiah. 
 
 §  4:Z.—Tke  Hunger. 
 The  first  temptation  was  as  follows  :i  After  Jesits  had 
 fasted  for  a  long  time,  he  suftered  the  pangs  of  hunger.  As  no 
 food  was  to  be  had  in  the  desert,  the  suggestion  was  made  to 
 him,  "  If  thou  ai-t  really  the  Messiah,  the  son  of  God,  this  need 
 cannot  embarrass  thee.  Thou  canst  help  thyself  readily  by  a 
 miracle  ;  thou  canst  change  the  stones  of  the  desert  into  bread." 
 Jesus  rejected  this  challenge  with  the  words,  "  J/a/i  sliall  not 
 live  hy  bread  alone,  hut  hy  every  loord  that  pivceedeth  out  of  tlie 
 mouth  of  God'"  (what  is  produced  by  God's  creative  word).  To 
 apprehend  these  words  rightly,  we  must  recall  their  original 
 connexion  in  Deuteronomy  (viii.  3),  viz.,  that  the  Jews  were 
 fed  in  the  -wildei-ness  with  manna,  in  order  to  learn  that  the 
 power  of  God  could  sustain  human  life  by  other  means  than 
 ordinary  food.  They  longed  for  the  bread  and  flesh  of  Egypt, 
 but  were  to  be  taught  submission  to  the  vnR  of  God,  who  was 
 pleased  to  supply  their  wants  with  a  different  food.  Apply- 
 ing this  thought  to  Clu-ist's  circumstances,  we  interpret  his 
 reply  to  the  tempter  as  follows  :  "  Far  be  it  from  me  to  pre- 
 scribe to  God  the  mode  in  which  he  shall  pro\-ide  me  suste- 
 nance.     Kather  will  I  trust  his  omnipotent  creative  power, 
 
 1'  If  we  assign  a  symbolical  character  to  the  Temptation,  it  may  be 
 a,sked  ■whether  the  fasting,  which  formed  a  ground-work  for  it,  was  not 
 83nnbolical  also.  But  the  lasting  is  immediately  conuectcd  with  the 
 obviously  historical  fact  of  Christ's  retirement.  We  conceive  it  thus  : 
 Christ,  musing  upon  the  great  work  of  his  life,  forgot  the  wants  of  the 
 body.  (Cf.  John  iv.  34.)  The  mastery  (and  this  we  must  presuppose) 
 which  his  spirit  had  over  the  body  prevented  those  wants  from  asserting 
 their  power  for  a  long  time  ;  but  when  they  did,  it  was  only  the  more 
 powerfully.  It  formed  part  of  the  trial  and  self-denial  of  Christ  through 
 his  whole  life,  that,  together  with  the  consciousness  that  he  was  the  Son 
 of  God,  he  combined  the  weakness  and  dependence  of  hum.anity.  These 
 aflfected  the  lesser  powers  of  his  soul,  although  they  could  never  move  his 
 unchangingly  holy  will,  and  tuni  him  to  anv  selfish  strivings. 
 
 1  Matt.  iv.  2-4. 
 
THE  PINNACLE  OF  THE  TEMPLE.  75 
 
 which  can  find  means  to  satisfy  my  hunger,  even  in  the  desert, 
 though  it  may  not  be  with  man's  usual  food." 
 
 The  principle  involved  in  the  reply  was,  that  he  had  no 
 wLsh  to  free  liimself  from  the  sense  of  human  weakness  and 
 dependence  ;  that  he  would  work  no  miracle  for  that  purpose. 
 He  would  work  no  mii-acle  to  satisfy  Ms  own  will ;  no  miracle 
 whei'e  the  momentary  want  might  be  supplied,  though  by 
 natural  means  such  as  might  ofiend  the  sensual  appetite.  lia 
 self-denial  he  would  follow  God,  submittiag  to  His  will,  and 
 trusting  that  His  miglity  power  would  help  in  the  time  of 
 need,  in  the  way  that  His  wisdom  might  see  fit.  On  this 
 same  principle  Christ  acted  when  he  suffered  his  apostles  to 
 satisfy  theii-  hunger  with  the  corn  which  they  had  plucked, 
 rather  than  do  a  mii-acle  to  provide  them  better  food.  On 
 this  same  priuciple  he  acted  when  he  gave  himself  to  the 
 Je"v\dsh  officers  sent  to  apprehend  him,''  rather  than  seek 
 dehverance  by  a  Di\ine  interposition.  Of  the  same  kind,  too, 
 was  his  trial  when  he  hung  upon  the  cross,  and  they  that 
 passed  by  said,  "  If  he  he  tJie  King  of  Isncel,  let  him  voio  come 
 down  from  the  cross,  and  toe  tvill  believe  him."^ 
 
 §  44. — TJie  Pinnacle  of  the  Temple. 
 
 He  was  then  taken  to  the  pinnacle  of  the  Temple,  and  the 
 tempter  said  to  him,  "  If  thou  be  the  Son  of  God,  cast  thyself 
 down  :  thou  art  sure  of  aid  by  a  mii'acle  from  God  ;"  and, 
 qiioted.  Literally,  in  application,  the  words  of  Psa.  xci.  11,  12, 
 "  The  angels  shall  hear  thee  up  in  tlieir  hands,  lest  thou  dash  thy 
 foot  against  a  stone.'"  But  Christ  aiTays  against  him  another 
 passage,  which  defines  the  right  application  of  the  former  : 
 ''  Tliou  shalt  not  tempt  the  Lord  thy  God."  (Deut.  Ad.  16.)  As 
 if  he  had  said,  "  Thou  must  undertake  nothing  with  a  \dew  to 
 test  God's  omnipotence,  as  if  to  try  whether  he  will  work  a 
 miracle  to  save  thee  from  a  peiil  that  might  be  avoided  by 
 natural  means"  {i.  e.  by  coming  dowTi  from  the  battlement  in 
 the  usual  way). 
 
 These  words  of  Christ  imply  that  the  pious  man  can  look 
 for  Divine  aid  at  all  times,  provided  he  uses  rightly  the  means 
 which  God  afibrds  him,  and  walks  in  the  way  which  has  been 
 divinely  marked  out  for  him  by  his  calling  and  his  circum- 
 stances :  the  Messiah  was  not,  in  gratuitous  confidence  of 
 Divine  assistance,  to  cast  himself  into  a  danger  which  common 
 prudence  might  avoid.     They  involve  the  principle,   that  a 
 
 '  Matt.  xx\-i.  53.  '  lb.  s.xxW.  42. 
 
76  THE   TEMPTATION. 
 
 miracle  may  not  be  wrought  except  for  wise  ends  and  with 
 adequate  motives  ;  never,  with  no  other  aim  than  to  display 
 the  power  of  working  wonders,  and  to  make  a  momentary, 
 seasible  impression,  which,  however  powerful,  coxdd  leave  no 
 religious  etiect,  and,  not  penetrating  beyond  the  region  of  the 
 senses,  must  be  Vnit  transient  there.  And  on  this  principle  Chiist 
 acted  always,  in  not  voluntarily  exposing  himself  to  peril  ;  in 
 employing  wdse  and  pnident  means  to  escape  the  snares  of  his 
 enemies  ;  and  going  forth,  with  tmst  in  God  and  submission 
 to  his  will,  to  meet  such  dangers  only  as  Ids  Di\ine  mi.ssion 
 made  necessary,  and  as  he  coidd  not  avoid  withoi:t  unfaithfulness 
 to  his  calling.  On  this  principle  he  acted  when  the  Phari.sees 
 and  the  fleshly-minded  multitude  came  to  liim  and  asked  a 
 miracle,  and  he  reftised  them  with  [•'  t/iere  shall  7io  siffn  be  given 
 to  this  wicked  and  adulterous  generation  hut  the  sign  of  tlie 
 Prophet  JonaK'\^ 
 
 §  45. — Dominion. 
 
 We  do  not  take  the  tliird  temptation  ius  implying  literally 
 that  Satan  proposed  to  Christ  to  fall  dowTi  and  do  liim  homage, 
 as  the  price  of  a  tran.sfer  of  dominion  over  all  the  kingdoms  of 
 the  world  :  no  extraordinary  degi'ee  of  piety  woidd  have  been 
 necessary  to  rebuke  such  a  propos-al  as  this.  We  consider  it 
 as  invohing  the  two  following  i)oints,  which  must  be  taken 
 together,  viz.,  (1)  the  establishment  of  Messiali's  dominion  as 
 an  outward  kingdom,  with  worldly  si)lendours  ;  and  {2)  the 
 Avoi-ship  of  Satan  in  connexion  with  it,  which,  though  not 
 fidly  exjiresscd,  is  implied  in  the  act  w^hich  he  demands,  and 
 which  Christ  treats  as  equivalent  to  worshipping  him.  Herein 
 \\  as  the  temptation,  that  the  Messiah  should  not  develop  his 
 kingdom  gradually,  and  in  its  jmre  spirituality  from  within, 
 Init  should  establish  it  at  once,  as  an  outward  dominion  ;  and 
 that,  altliough  this  coidd  not  be  accomplished  without  the  use 
 of  an  evil  agency,  the  end  would  sanctify  the  means. 
 
 Wo  find  here  the  pi'inciple,  that  to  tiy  to  estabUsh  Messiah's 
 kingdom  as  an  outward,  worldly  dominion,  is  to  wi.sh  to  turn 
 the  kingdom  of  God  into  the  kingdom  of  the  de\-il  ;  and  to 
 enq)loy  that  fallen  intelligence  which  penades  all  human  sove- 
 reignties, only  in  a  different  form,  to  found  the  reign  of  Clmst. 
 And  in  rejecting  the  temjitation,  Chi'ist  condemned  every 
 mode  of  secularizing  his  kingdom,  as  well  as  all  the  devil-wor- 
 shij)  which  must  result  from  attempting  that  kingdom  in  a 
 Ax-orldly  form.  We  find  here  the  principle,  that  God's  \\ork 
 «  Matt.  xii.  39. 
 
THE  TEMPTATION  XOT  INWAUD.  77 
 
 is  to  be  accomplished  purely  as  His  work  and  by  His  power, 
 without  foreign  aid  ;  so  that  it  shall  all  be  only  a  share  of  the 
 woi'ship  rendered  to  him  alone. 
 
 And  Cln-ist's  wliole  life  illustitites  this  principle.  How  often 
 Wivs  he  urged,  by  the  impatient  longuigs  and  the  worldly  spirit 
 of  the  ])eople,  to  gratify  their  intense,  long-cherished  liopes, 
 and  establish  his  kingdom  in  a  woi-ldly  form,  before  the  hist 
 demand  of  the  kind  was  made  upon  him,  as  he  entered,  in  the 
 midst  of  an  enthusiastic  host,  the  capital  city  of  God's  earthly 
 reign  ;  before  his  last  refusal,  expressed  in  his  submission  to 
 those  sufferings  wliich  residted  in  the  triumph  of  God's  pure 
 spiritual  kingdom ! 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 IMPORT  OF  THE  TEMPTATION  AS  A  WHOLE. 
 §  46. — Fundamental  Idea. 
 The  whole  temptation  taken  together  presents  us  one  idea; 
 a  contrast,  namely,  between  the  founding  of  God's  kingdom  as 
 pure,  spiritual,  and  tried  by  many  fomis  of  self-denial  in  the 
 slow  development  ordained  for  it  by  its  liead ;  and  the  sudden 
 establishment  of  that  kingdom  before  men,  as  Aisible  and 
 earthly.  This  contrast  forms  the  central  point  of  the  whole. 
 AH  the  temptations  have  regard  to  the  created  will  as  such ; 
 the  victory  presupposes  that  self-sacrifice  of  a  will  given  up  to 
 God  which  deteiinines  the  whole  life.  And  as  this  self-saciifice 
 of  the  created  will  in  Christ  had  to  be  tested  in  his  life-long 
 struggles  with  the  Spuit  of  the  world,  which  ever  strove  to 
 obscure  the  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God  and  bring  it  doAvn  to 
 its  own  level;  so  the  free  and  conscious  decision  manifested  in 
 these  three  temptations,  fully  contrasting,  as  they  did,  the  true 
 and  the  false  Messiahship,  the  unworldly  and  the  seculaiized 
 Theoci-acy,  was  made  hpfore  his  public  ministry,  which  itself 
 was  but  a  continuation  of  the  strife  and  the  ti-iumph. 
 
 §  47. — The  Temptation  iwt  an  inward  one,  but  tlie  Wai-k  of  Satan. 
 We  find,  then,  in  the  facts  of  the  temptation,  the  expres.siou 
 of  that  period  that  intervened  between  Christ's  private  life  and 
 his  public  ministiy.  These  inwaid  spiritual  exercises  bring 
 out  the  .self-determination  which  stamps  itself  upon  all  his 
 subsequent  outward  actions.  Yet  we  dare  not  suppose  in  him 
 a  choice,  winch,  presupposing  within  him  a  point  of  tangency 
 for  evil,  would  involve  the  necessity  of  his  comparing  the  e\41 
 Avith  the  good,  and  deciding  between  them.  In  the  steadfast 
 tendency  of  his  inner  life,  rooted  in  submission  to  God,  lay  a 
 
78  THE  TEMPTATION. 
 
 decision  wliicli  admitted  of  no  such  struggle.  He  bad  in  com- 
 mon with  humanity  that  natural  weakness  which  may  exist 
 without  selfishness,  and  the  created  will,  mutable  in  its  own 
 natui'e;  and  only  on  this  side  was  the  struggle  possible — such 
 a  struggle  as  man  may  have  been  liable  to,  before  he  gave 
 seduction  the  power  of  temptation  by  his  own  actual  sin.  In 
 all  other  respects,  the  outward  seductions  remained  outwai-d; 
 they  found  no  selfishness  in  him,  as  in  other  men,  on  which 
 to  seize,  and  thus  become  internal  temptations,  but,  on 
 the  contrary,  only  aided  in  revealing  the  complete  unity  of 
 the  Di^ine  and  human,  which  formed  the  essence  of  his  inner 
 life. 
 
 Nor  is  it  possible  for  us  to  imagine  that  these  temptations 
 originated  loithin;  to  imagine  that  Christ,  in  contemplating 
 the  course  of  his  future  ministry,  had  an  internal  struggle  to 
 decide  whether  he  should  act  according  to  hLs  own  wiU,  or  in 
 self-denial  and  submission  to  the  will  of  God.  We  have  seen 
 from  the  third  temptation  that,  from  the  very  beginning,  he 
 regarded  the  establislmient  of  a  worldly  kingdom  as  inseparable 
 from  the  worsliip  of  the  devil;  he  could,  therefore,  have  had 
 no  straggle  to  choose  between  such  a  kingdom,  outward  and 
 worldly,  and  the  tnie  Messiah-kingdom,  spuitual,  and  developed 
 from  witliin. 
 
 Even  the  purest  man  who  has  a  gi'eat  work  to  do  for  any 
 age,  must  be  afiected  more  or  less  by  the  prevailing  ideas  and 
 tendencies  of  that  age.  Unless  he  struggle  against  it,  the 
 spirit  of  the  age  will  penetrate  his  own ;  his  spiritual  life  and 
 its  products  will  be  cornipted  by  the  ba.se  admixture.  Now 
 the  whole  spirit  of  the  age  of  Christ  held  that  MessiaJi's  king- 
 dom was  to  be  0/  tim  world,  and  even  John  Baptist  could  not 
 free  himself  from  this  conception.  There  was  nothing  within 
 Christ  on  which  the  sinful  spirit  of  the  age  could  seize ;  the 
 Divine  life  within  him  had  brought  every  thing  temporal  into 
 harmony  with  itself ;  and,  therefore,  this  tendency  of  the  times 
 to  secularize  the  Theocratic  idea  could  take  no  hold  of  him. 
 But  it  was  to  press  upon  him  from  vyithout;  from  the  begin- 
 ning tliis  tendency  threatened  to  corrupt  the  idea  and  the 
 development  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  Chiist's  work  had  to 
 be  kept  free  from  it ;  moreover,  the  nature  of  his  own  Mes.sianic 
 ministry  could  only  be  fully  illustrated  by  conti-ast  with  this 
 possible  objective  mode  of  action;  to  wliich,  foreign  as  it  wa.s 
 to  his  own  spuitual  tendencies,  he  was  .so  frequently  to  be 
 urged  afterward  by  the  prevailing  spuit  of  the  times. 
 
THE  WORK  OP  SATAJf.  79 
 
 But  if,  according  to  the  doctrine  of  Christ,"  the  rebelUon  of 
 a  higher  intelligence  against  God  preceded  the  whole  present 
 histoiy  of  the  universe,  in  which  Evil  is  one  of  the  co-operating 
 factors,  and  of  which  man's  history  is  only  a  part ;  if  that  doc- 
 trine makes  Satan  the  representative  of  the  Evil  which  he  first 
 brought  into  reality;  if,  further,  it  lays  down  a  connexion, 
 concealed  from  the  eye  of  man,  between  him  and  all  evil ;  then, 
 from  this  point  of  view,  Christ's  contest  -svith  the  spirit  of  the 
 world  must  appear  to  us  a  contest  with  Satan — the  temptation, 
 a  temptation  from  Satan — continued  afterward  through  his 
 whole  life,  and  renewed  in  every  form  of  assault,  imtil  the  final 
 triumph  was  announced,  "  It  is  finished.'"  As  the  temptation 
 could  not  have  originated  in  Christ,  he  could  only  attribute  it 
 to  that  Spirit  to  which  all  opposition  to  God's  kingdom,  and 
 every  attempt  to  corrupt  its  pure  development,  can  finally  be 
 traced  back.  On  the  working  out  of  Christ's  plan  depended 
 the  issue  of  the  battle  between  the  kingdom  of  God  and  the 
 kingdom  of  the  Evil  One ;  and  we  cannot  wonder,  therefore, 
 that  this  Spirit,  ever  so  restlessly  plotting  against  the  Divine 
 order',  should  have  been  active  and  alert  at  a  time  when,  as  in 
 the  case  of  the  first  man,  an  opening  for  temptation  to  the 
 mutable  created  will  was  afibrded  to  him. 
 
 Christ  left  to  his  disciples  and  the  Chvu'ch  only  a  partial  and 
 symbolical  account^  of  the  facts  of  his  inner  life  in  this  pre- 
 
 "  We  must  hereafter  inquire  whether  this  is  Christ's  doctrine,  and  onl^-^ 
 make  here  a  preliminary  remark  or  two.  The  arguments  of  the  rationalists 
 against  the  doctrine  which  teaches  the  existence  of  Satan  are  either  directed 
 against  a  false  and  arbitrary  conception  of  that  doctrine,  or  else  go  upon 
 the  presupposition  that  evil  could  only  have  originated  under  conditions 
 such  as  those  under  which  human  existence  has  developed  itself ;  that  it 
 has  its  ground  in  the  organism  of  human  nature,  e.  rj.  in  the  opposition 
 between  reason  and  the  propensities  ;  that  human  development  must  neces- 
 sarily pass  through  it ;  but  that  we  cannot  conceive  of  a  steadfast  tendency 
 to  evU  in  an  intelligence  endowed  with  the  higher  spiritual  powers.  Now 
 it  is  precisely  this  view  of  evil  which  wo  most  emphatically  oppose,  as 
 directly  contradictory  to  the  essence  of  the  Gospel  and  of  a  theistico-ethical 
 view  of  the  world  ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  we  hold  fast,  as  the  only  doctrine 
 which  meets  man's  moral  and  religious  interests,  that  doctrine  wliich  is  the 
 ground  of  the  conception  of  Satan,  and  according  to  which  evil  is  repre- 
 sented as  the  rebellion  of  a  created  will  against  the  Divine  law,  as  an  act 
 of  free-will  not  otherwise  to  be  explained,  and  the  intelligence  as  deter- 
 mined by  the  will.  I  am  pleased  to  find  my  convictions  expressed  in  few 
 words  by  an  eminent  divine  of  our  own  time,  Dr.  Nitzsch,  in  his  excellent 
 System  der  Christlichen  Lehre,  2nd  ed.  p.  152.  They  are  further  developed 
 by  Twesten,  in  his  Dogmatik.  The  same  fundamental  idea  is  given  in  the 
 work  of  Julius  Miiller,  already  mentioned  (Lehre  von  der  Siinde). 
 
 '  We  can  apply  here  Dr.  Niizsch's  remark  in  reference  to  the  Biblical 
 
80  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 paratory  epoch ;  an  account,  however,  adapted  to  their  practical 
 necessities,  and  sem-ing  to  guai'd  them  against  those  seductions 
 of  the  spirit  of  the  workl  to  which  even  the  productions  of  the 
 Divine  spirit  must  yiekl,  if  they  ai'e  ever  allowed  to  become 
 Avorldly. 
 
 BOOK   IV. 
 
 THE  PUBLIC  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST  IN  ITS 
 REAL  CONNECTION.^ 
 
 PART  L 
 
 THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 A.    THE  PLAN"  OF  CHRIST's  MINISTRY  IN  GENERAL. 
 §  48. — Had  Cknst  a  Conscmis  Plant 
 
 It  is  most  natin-al  for  us,  in  treating  of  Christ's  public 
 ministry,  to  speak  first  of  the  ^jfe/i  which  lay  at  the  foundation 
 of  it.  First  of  all,  however,  the  question  comes  up,  whether 
 he  luul  any  such  plan  at  all.'' 
 
 The  greatest  achievements  of  gi'eat  men  inbehalf  of  humanity 
 have  not  been  accomplished  by  plans  jireviously  ari-anged  and 
 digested;  on  the  contrary,  such  men  have  generally  been  un- 
 conscious instruments,  working  out  God's  purposes,  at  least  in 
 the  beginning,  before  the  fridts  of  their  labours  have  become 
 
 riccountof  the  'EaX[{Chvistl.  Lih-e,  §  106,  s.  144,  anm.  1.  2"-  Aufl.) :  "The 
 hitftory  of  the  temptation,  in  t!ii«  fonn,  is  not  a  nal.  but  a  true  history." 
 
 *  To  promote  unity  of  view,  I  deem  it  best,  especially  as  much  of  the 
 clironological  order  must  remain  uncertain,  to  treat  and  divide  Clirist's 
 jniblic  ministry,  first,  according  to  its  substantial  connection,  and,  secondly, 
 according  to  its  chronological  connection. 
 
 *  We  use  the  phrase  "plan  of  Jesus,"  inasmuch  as  we  compare  his 
 mode  of  action  with  that  of  other  world-historical  men,  in  order  to  bring 
 out  the  chanicteristic  features  which  distinguish  him.  The  exposition 
 which  follows  will  show  that  I  agree  with  the  apt  remarks  of  my  worthy 
 friend,  Dr.  Ullniann,  made  in  his  beautiful  treatise  on  the  "  lSundi.nlosigl:eit 
 Jaiu,"  (Sinlessness  of  Jesus),  p.  71,  and  that  his  censures  there  of  those  who 
 use  the  above-mentioned  pliraso  do  not  apply  to  me.  f8ee  UUman's  Trea- 
 tise, translated  by  Edwards  and  Park,  in  the  "  Selections  from  Gonnan 
 Literature."] 
 
THE  PLAX  OF  CHRIST.  81 
 
 obvious  to  tlieir  o%vn  eyes.  They  served  tlie  plan  of  God's 
 providence  for  the  progi-ess  of  his  kingdom  among  men,  by 
 giving  themselves  np  enthusiastically  to  the  ideas  which  tlie 
 Spirit  of  God  had  imparted  to  them.  Not  unfrequently  lias  a 
 false  historical  view  a.scribed  to  sucli  labours,  after  their  results 
 became  known,  a  plan  which  had  nothing  to  do  ^^•ith  their 
 development.  Nay,  these  mighty  men  were  al^le  to  do  their 
 great  deeds  precisely  because  a  higher  than  human  wnsdom 
 formed  the  plan  of  their  labours  and  prepared  the  way  for 
 them.  The  Avork  was  greater  than  the  workmen ;  they  had 
 no  presentiments  of  the  results  that  were  to  follow  from  the 
 toils  to  which  they  felt  themselves  impelled.  So  was  it  with 
 Luther,  when  he  kindled  the  spark  wliich  set  half  Europe  in 
 a  blaze,  and  commenced  the  sacred  flame  which  refined  the 
 Cliristian  Church. 
 
 Were  wc  at  liberty  to  compare  the  work  of  Christ  with 
 The.se  creations  "svi-ought  throiigh  human  agencies,  we  shoiild 
 need  to  guard  ourselves  against  determining  the  plan  of  his 
 ministry  from  its  results.  We  might  then  suppose  that  he  was 
 inspu-ed  with  enthusiasm  for  an  idea,  whose  compass  and  conse- 
 quences the  limits  of  his  cii-cumstances  and  liis  times  prevented 
 him  from  fully  apprehending.  We  might  also  distinguish  be- 
 tween the  idea,  as  made  the  guide  and  the  aim  of  his  actions 
 by  himself,  and  the  more  compreheni=iive  DiA-ine  plan,  to  which, 
 by  his  voluntary  aaid  thoroiigh  devotion  to  God,  he  served  an 
 the  organ.  And  it  would  rather  gloi-ify  than  disparage  him  to 
 show,  by  thus  comparing  him  with  other  men  who  had  wrought 
 a.s  God's  instnunents  to  accomplish  His  va.st  designs,  that  God 
 liad  accomplished  through  him  even  gi^eater  things  than  he 
 had  liimself  intended 
 
 But  we  are  allowed  to  make  no  such  comparison.  The  life 
 of  Christ  presented  a  realized  ideal  of  human  cultiu'e  such  as 
 man's  natiu-e  can  never  attain  unto,  let  his  development  reach 
 what  point  it  may.  He  described  the  fiitin-e  effects  of  the 
 truth  which  he  revealed  in  a  way  that  no  man  could  conij)re- 
 liend  at  the  time,  and  which  centuries  of  history  have  only 
 been  contributing  to  illustrate.  Nor  was  the  progress  of  the 
 future  more  cleai*  to  his  \asion  than  the  steps  in  the  history  of 
 the  pdst,  as  is  .shown  by  his  omti  statements  of  the  relation 
 which  he  sustain<Kl  to  the  old  dispensation.  Facts,  Avliich  it 
 required  the  course  of  ages  to  make  clear,  lay  open  to  his  eye ; 
 and  history  has  both  explained  and  verified  the  laws  which  he 
 pointed  out  for  the  progi'ess  of  his  kingdom.     He  could  not, 
 
 G 
 
82  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 therefore,  have  held  the  same  relation  to  the  plan  for  whose 
 accomplishment  his  labours  were  dii-ected,  as  men  who  were 
 mere  instruments  of  God,  however  great.  He  resembled  them, 
 it  is  true,  in  the  fact  that  his  labours  were  ordered  according 
 to  no  plan  of  human  contrivance,  but  to  one  laid  down  by  God 
 for  the  development  of  humanity;  but  he  differed  from  them 
 in  this,  that  He  imderstood  the  full  compass  of  God's  plan, 
 and  had  freely  made  it  his  own ;  that  it  was  the  plan  of  his 
 own  mind,  clearly  standing  forth  in  liis  consciousness  when  he 
 commenced  liis  labours.  The  account  of  his  temptation,  rightl\- 
 understood,  shows  all  this. 
 
 With  this,  also,  are  rebutted  those  views  which  consider 
 Christ  as  having  recognized  the  idea  of  his  ministry  only 
 through  the  cloudy  atmosphere  of  Judaism ;  and  those  which 
 represent  his  plan  as  having  been  essentially  altered  fi*om  time 
 to  time,  as  circumstances  contradicted  his  first  expectations 
 and  gave  bim  clearer  notions.  They  are  further  refuted  by 
 the  entire  harmony  which  subsists  between  Christ's  own  ex- 
 pressions in  regard  to  his  plan,  as  uttered  in  the  two  different 
 epochs  of  his  bistoiy. 
 
 §  49. — Connection  with  the  Old  Testament  Theocracy. 
 
 The  object  of  Christ  was,  as  he  himself  often  describes  it,  to 
 establish  the  kingdom  of  God  among  men ;  not,  as  we  have 
 shown,  after  a  plan  of  man's  devising,  but  after  one  laid  doAvn 
 by  God,  not  only  in  the  general  development  of  the  human 
 race,  but  also,  and  specially,  io.  the  development  of  the  Jewish 
 nation,  and  in  the  revelations  of  the  old  dispensation.  "We 
 must,  therefore,  look  back  upon  the  Old  Testament  foundations 
 of  the  kingdom  of  GrOD,  before  we  can  correctly  understand  the 
 plan  of  Christ  as  set  forth  in  his  acts  and  words.  The  one 
 prepared  the  way  for  the  other.  In  the  former  it  was  outward, 
 and  confined  to  the  narrow  commimity  of  the  Jewish  people, 
 in  the  form  of  a  state  founded  and  governed  by  Divine  autho- 
 rity ;  in  the  latter  it  was  to  be  universal,  all-embracing,  a  com- 
 munion, springing  out  of  the  consciousness  of  God,  intended  to 
 be  the  principle  of  life  and  union  for  all  mankind.  In  the 
 foi-mer,  the  Divine  law,  ordering  from  without  all  the  relations 
 of  state  and  people,  governed  the  nation  through  organs  ap- 
 pointed by  God  and  inspired  by  his  Spirit,  viz.,  priests,  kings, 
 and  prophets.  But  this  idea  could  not  be  reahzed ;  tlie  king- 
 dom of  God  covld  not  he  founded  from  without.  It  needed  first 
 a  proper  material ;  and  this  could  not  be  found  in  human 
 nature,  estranged  from  God  by  sin.     The  history  of  the  Jewish 
 
niS  CONSCIOUSXESS  OF  MESSIAHSHIP.  83 
 
 nation  was  designed  to  bring  tliis  conti-adiction  out  into  clear 
 consciousness  ;  and  to  awaken  a  more  and  more  vivid  anxiety 
 for  its  removal,  and  for  the  re-establisliment  and  glorification 
 of  the  Theoci'acy.  So  the  revelations  of  God  pointed  more  and 
 more  directly  to  Him,  the  Messiah,  under  whose  dominion  the 
 Divine  Idngdom  was  to  be  exalted,  and  the  worship  of  Jeho- 
 vah to  be  acknowledged  and  to  triumph  e\en  among  the 
 nations  so  long  estranged  from  him. 
 
 §  50. — Christ's  Steadfast  Consciousness  ofJiis  MessiaJiship. 
 
 And  Jesus  knew  and  testified  to  his  Messiahship  from  the 
 beginning,  from  his  first  public  appearance  vmtU  his  last  decla- 
 ration, made  before  the  lugh  priests  in  the  very  face  of  death ; 
 although  he  did  not  always  proclaim  it  -with  equal  openness, 
 especially  when  there  was  risk  of  popular  commotions  from 
 false  and  temporal  conceptions  of  the  Messiah  on  the  part  of 
 the  people ;  but  rather  gradually  led  them,  from  the  acknow- 
 ledgment of  his  prophetic  character  (by  which,  indeed,  they 
 were  bound  to  believe  in  his  words),  to  recognize  him  as  the 
 Messiah,  a  Prophet  also,  but  in  the  hig/iest  sense. 
 
 In  this  respect  there  is  no  contradiction  whatever  between 
 the  Synoptical  Gospels  y  and  John.  They  all  agree  in  stating 
 that  Jesus  spoke  and  acted  from  the  beginning  in  conscious- 
 ness of  his  Messiahship;  and  also  that,  as  circumstances  de- 
 manded, he  was  sometimes  more  and  sometimes  less  expUcif- 
 in  regard  to  it.  Nor  is  John  silent '"*  about  the  fluctuations  and 
 di^^sions  of  opinion  (easily  explained  on  psychological  gi'ounds), 
 even  among  the  more  favourably  disposed  portions  of  the  mul- 
 titude :  nay,  he  tells  us  that  some  of  the  Apostles  were  slow- 
 to  believe,  and  wavered  in  their  faith.  All  this,  however,  does 
 nothing  to  prove  similar  fluctuations  in  Christ's  conviction  of 
 his  Messiahship.  According  to  IMatthew,  Jesus  commenced 
 his  ministry,  like  John  the  Baptist,  by  summoning  men  to  re- 
 pentance, as  a  preparation  for  the  coming  kingdom  of  God. 
 But  this  by  no  means  implies  that  his  intention  and  his  an- 
 noimcement,  at  the  beginning,  were  the  same  as  those  of  the 
 Baptist.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to  take  tliis  stai-ting-point, 
 as  he  joined  liis  ministry  upon  John's  proclamation,  and  upon 
 the  desire  for  the  manifestation  of  the  kingdom  of  God  which 
 it  had  awakened,  in  order  to  puiify  tliis  desire  and  direct  it  to 
 
 J"  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke.  '  John  viii.  25  ;  x.  24. 
 
 »  John  vii.  40  ;  Matt.  xvi.  14  ;  John  vii.  12.  The  less  hostile  portion 
 of  the  people  agreed,  at  first,  only  in  believing  that  Christ  had  good 
 intentions,  and  was  no  seducer  of  the  people. 
 
 g2 
 
84  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST 
 
 its  object,  the  real  founder  of  the  kingdom.  It  was  essential 
 to  awaken  and  j^resen-e  in  the  minds  of  the  people  a  sense  of 
 the  necessity  of  repentance  as  a  condition  of  participation  iii 
 the  kingdom,  and  the  first  stai-ting-point  for  a  clear  idea  of  its 
 nature.  After  tliis  general  simnnons  had  gone  before,  Je.sus 
 could  prove,  by  the  impression  of  liis  own  works,  that  the 
 kingdom  had  really  been  manifested  through  him  (Matt.  xii. 
 28  ;  Luke  x\ni.  21).  The  proclamation  of  the  approaching 
 kingdom  and  the  announcement  of  Jesus  as  its  founder  and 
 centi-al-point,  were  closely  comiected  together;  but  sometimes 
 the  one  was  announced  more  prominently,  and  sometimes  tlie 
 other,  as  cu'cumstances  might  demand.  Compare  the  Sennon 
 on  the  Moimt  with  the  discourses  of  Christ  as  recorded  in 
 John's  Gospel. 
 
 §  51. — Xo  Alterations  of  Christ's  Plan. 
 It  may  be  imagined,  however,  that  although  Christ  was 
 conscious,  from  the  beginning,  of  his  calling  to  reahze  the  idea 
 of  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  jilan  of  his  work  may  have  been 
 modified  from  time  to  time  according  to  the  varj-ing  results 
 which  depended  upon  the  vacillating  temper  of  the  pubHo 
 mind  ;  that  at  fii-st,  perhaps,  he  hoped  to  find  the  greater  part 
 of  the  Jewish  nation  ready  to  receive  hini ;  and  designed, 
 under  this  suppo.sition,  to  separate  the  inconigible  from  tlie 
 better  part,  and  collect  the  latter  into  a  Theocratic  conmui- 
 nity  under  his  government ;  and  that  he  expected  that  tlie 
 kingdom  of  God,  once  seated  firmly  in  tliis  way,  would,  by  the 
 might  of  its  prevailing  spirit  of  I)i^•ine  life,  by  degrees  trans- 
 form all  other  nations  into  the  same  kingdom.  In  fact,  what 
 an  incalculable  influence  might  a  nation,  thoroughly  imbued 
 Avith  the  spirit  of  Christianity,  and  illustrating  Christianity  in 
 all  its  i-elations,  exert  toward  the  moral  regeneration  of  the 
 rest  of  mankind  !  A  Hght,  indeed,  would  it  be,  not  liid 
 under  a  bushel,  but  throwing  its  beams  on  all  sides  into  the 
 Kun-ounding  darkness  :  the  salt  and  the  leaven,  truly,  of  all 
 mankind.  And  some,^  in  fact,  assert  that  Christ  cherished 
 these  hopes  when  he  first  appeared  in  public.  Hence,  say 
 they,  the  joyous  feeling  witlx  which  he  announced  the  "accei)t- 
 able  year"  in  the  synagogue  at  Nazareth  ;  ''■  hence  liis  pm'pose, 
 manifested  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  to  give  to  the  peojJe 
 new  Theocratic  statutes  in  accordance  with  liis  higher  stand- 
 ])oint ;  hence  his  promise  to  the  apostles  that  they  should 
 
 •*  Be  Wette  and  Ifasc.     Paulus,  also,  with  some  modifications. 
 '  Luke  iv.  17,  seq- 
 
UXCHAXGED.  85 
 
 govern,  under  liim,  the  new  Theocratic  community ;  ^  hence, 
 too,  his  last  lamentation  over  Jerusalem,  that  he  had  so  often 
 tried  to  save  the  nation  which  ought  to  have  submitted  to  his 
 guidance.  All  which,  thej  say,  presupposes  a  belief  on  his 
 part  that  the  results  might  have  been  different  had  the  people 
 listened  to  his  voice,  and  that  he  expected  more  of  them  to 
 listen  to  him  ;  that  the  aim  of  his  ministry  was  altered  when 
 he  foimd  the  resistance  more  stubborn  and  general  than  he 
 tad  supposed  ;  and  that,  from  the  coui-se  of  events  themselves, 
 he  learned,  in  the  light  of  the  Di^•ine  Spirit,  that  the  plan  for 
 the  establishment  of  the  kingdom  of  God  which  the  Divine 
 counsels  had  formed,  was  such,  that  he  himself  must  submit  to 
 the  power  of  his  enemies,  and  rise  victorious  from  his  suf- 
 ferings ;  while  the  kingdom  itself  was  only  to  advance  by  sIom- 
 degrees,  and  after  many  combats,  to  its  final  triumph. 
 
 Yet,  after  all,  these  reasonings  are  oidy  specious,  not  solid. 
 Even  the  most  important  of  them  rather  opposes  than  sustains 
 the  theory  they  are  adduced  to  support.  It  is  time,  there  is 
 such  a  thing  as  a  holy  enthusiam  for  a  Divine  idea,  which  is 
 blind  to  all  difficulties,  or  deems  that  it  can  gain  an  easy  \"ic- 
 tory.  Such,  however,  was  not  the  enthusiasm  of  Christ  for 
 his  Divine  work ;  on  the  contrary,  he  combined  ■with  it  a  dis- 
 cretion which  fully  comprehended  the  opposition  he  must 
 encounter  from  the  prevailing  opinions  and  feelings  of  the 
 times.  He  was  far  from  tiiisting  to  the  momentary  impulses 
 under  which  the  people,  excited  by  his  words  and  actions, 
 sought  to  join  themselves  to  him.  He  readUy  distinguished, 
 with  that  seai'ching  glance  that  pierced  the  depths  of  mens 
 hearts,  the  few  who  came  to  him,  drawn  of  the  Father  and 
 following  an  inwai'd  consciousness  of  God,  from  those  who 
 sought  him  with  carnal  feelings,  to  obtain  that  which  he  came 
 not  to  bestow.  How  did  he  check  the  ardour  of  his  disciples, 
 when  he  rebuked  the  false  self-confidence  inspired  by  a  tran- 
 sient enthusiasm,  and  reminded  them  of  then-  weakness ! 
 There  was  no  extravagance  in  his  demands  upon  men  ;  nothing 
 exaggerated  in  his  hopes  of  the  future.  Everywhere  we  see 
 not  only  a  conscious  possession  of  the  Di^■ine  power  to  over- 
 come the  world,  which  he  was  to  impart  to  humanity,  but  also 
 of  the  obstacles  it  should  meet  with  from  the  old  natm-e  in 
 which  the  principle  of  sin  was  yet  active.  This  was  the  spirit 
 which  passed  over  from  him  to  the  Apostles,  and  which  con- 
 stituted the  pecuUar  essence  of  Christian  ethics.  Christ, 
 ■*  Matt.  xix.  -2$. 
 
86  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST 
 
 wliile  as  yet  sui-rounded  only  by  a  liandful  of  faithful  followers, 
 describes  tbe  renewing  power  whicb  the  seed  that  he  had  sown 
 would  exert  on  the  life  of  humanity ;  yet,  brilliant  as  the 
 prospect  is,  his  eyes  are  not  dazzled  by  it ;  he  sees,  at  the 
 same  time,  how  impurity  will  mix  itself  with  the  work  of  God, 
 and  how  clouds  wiU  obscui-e  it.  Could  He,  whose  qiiick  glance 
 thus  saw  the  depths  of  men's  hearts,  and  took  in  at  once  the 
 present  and  the  future,  who  knew  so  well  the  coiu-upt  carnality 
 of  the  Jewish  nation  before  he  entered  on  his  public  ministry, 
 so  far  deceive  himself  as  to  suppose  that  he  could  suddenly 
 transform  the  larger  part  of  such  a  nation  into  a  true  people 
 of  God  ?  He  that  searched  men's  hearts  and  knew  what  was 
 in  man,  could  not  be  ignorant  that  his  severest  battles  were  to 
 be  fought  -with  the  prevalent  depravity  of  men  ;  and  in  con- 
 nexion Avith  these  struggles,  how  natviral  was  it  for  him  to 
 look  forward  to  the  death  which  he  should  suffer  iu  the 
 faithful  performance  of  his  calling  !  Even  at  an  early  date  he 
 intimated  the  violent  death  by  which  he  was  to  be  torn  fi-om 
 the  happy  fellowship  of  his  disciples,  leaving  them  behind  him 
 in  tears  and  sorrow.^ 
 
 His  temptation,  the  historical  tnith  anl  import  of  which  we 
 Lave  shown,  makes  it  clear  that  he  had  decided,  before  be  com- 
 menced his  public  labours,  not  to  establish  the  kingdom  of  GoD 
 in  a  mere  outward  way  by  mii*aculous  power.  And  this  is 
 further  shown  by  his  assigning,  in  the  first  epoch  of  his  mi- 
 nistry, to  John  the  Baptist,  whom  he  called  the  fii'st  among 
 the  prophets,  a  subordinate  place  in  relation  to  the  new  era  of 
 rehgion  ;  for  this  could  only  have  been  done  in  view  of  John's 
 inability  fully  to  comprehend  the  essential  feature  of  this  new 
 
 *  Matt.  ix.  15.  Hose  says,  indeed,  that  these  words  do  not  imply- 
 necessarily  an  approaching  violent  death,  but  might  be  uttered  in  view  of 
 the  common  lot  of  moi-tals.  But,  in  the  first  place,  Jesus,  if  he  applied  to 
 himself  the  Old  Testament  idea  of  the  Messiah,  could  not  believe  that  he 
 would  be  torn  by  natural  death  from  the  Theocratic  community  which  he 
 should  found  among  the  Jews,  and  thus  leave  it  to  the  direction  of  others ; 
 but  must  expect  (if  he  hoped  to  foimd  an  external  Theocracy)  always  to 
 remain  present  as  Theocratic  king.  (This  applies,  also,  to  what  Hose 
 says  (2nd  edit,  of  his  Ltben  Jesu,  p.  89),  in  opposition  to  his  previously 
 expressed  views.)  Again,  it  would  be  strange  indeed  for  a  man  of  thirty 
 to  express  himself  to  older  men,  in  reference  to  the  common  end  of 
 mortals,  in  such  language  as  the  following  :  "  Now  is  your  time  for  festal 
 joy  ;  for  when  your  friend  shall  be  removed,  it  will  be  time  for  fasting  and 
 sorrow."  The  whole  connection  of  the  passage  shows  that  Jesus  did  not 
 oxpect  to  part  from  them  under  happy  circumstances,  but  amid  many  con- 
 flicts and  sufferin;js. 
 
UNCHANGED  87 
 
 era,  \iz.,  the  spiiitual  development  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
 from  witliin.  And,  again,  in  reference  to  John,  he  said, 
 "Blessedis  he,  zvhosoever  shall  not  he  offended  in  me;'"  evidently- 
 presupposing  that  John's  Old  Testament  views  would  be  of- 
 fended at  the  new  era ;  a  presiipposition  which  refers  to  the  new 
 si:)iritual  growth  ol  the  Di^Tue  kingdom.  It  is,  therefore,  unde- 
 niable that  fi-om  the  beginning  Clirist  aimed  at  this  new 
 development  of  that  kingdom. 
 
 We  find  fT.irth.er  proof  of  this  in  all  the  parables  which  treat 
 of  the  progress  of  his  kingdom,  and  the  effects  of  his  truth 
 upon  human  nature,  viz.  the  parables  of  the  mustard  seed,  of 
 the  leaven,  of  the  fire  which  he  had  come  to  kindle  upon  earth, 
 all  which  were  designed  to  illustrate  the  distinction  between 
 the  Old  Testament  form  of  the  Theocracy  and  that  of  Christ ; 
 to  illustrate  a  development  which  was  not  at  once  to  exhibit 
 an  external  stately  fabric;  but  to  commence  ■«ith  apparently 
 small  beginnings,  and  yet  ever  to  propagate  itself  by  a  mighty 
 power  working  outwardly  from  within ;  and  to  regenerate  all 
 things,  and  thus  appropriate  them  to  itself  All  these  parables 
 presuppose  the  renewal  of  human  nature  by  a  new  and  per- 
 vading piinciple  of  spiritual  life ;  and  imply  that  the  kingdom 
 of  God  cannot  be  visibly  realized  among  men  untU  they  become 
 subjects  of  this  renewal.  To  the  same  effect  was  Chiist's  saying 
 (which  we  shall  further  examine  hereafter),  "  neither  do  men 
 •put  new  wine  into  old  shins,  else  the  shins  break  and  the  wine 
 o'unneth  out."  He  who  uttered  such  truths,  involving  a  stead- 
 fast and  connected  system  of  thought,  could  not  have  set 
 out  with  the  purpose  of  establishing  an  outward  kingdom,  and 
 have  afterw^ard  been  induced  by  circumstances  to  change  liis 
 plan  in  so  short  a  time.  What  an  immense  revolution  in  his 
 mental  habits  and  course  of  thinking  must  a  few  months  have 
 produced,  «n  such  a  supposition  !  It  would  be,  indeed,  a  gross 
 misapprehension  of  the  precepts  given  in  the  Sermon  on  the 
 Mount  to  interi:)ret  them  HteraUy  as  laws  laid  do^vn  for  an 
 outward  Theocratic  kingdom.  Such  an  interpretation  would 
 involve  the  possibility  of  a  struggle  between  Good  and  Evil  in 
 the  kingdom  of  God  ;  such  as  can  never  take  place  in  Messiah's 
 reign,  if  it  be  realized  according  to  its  idea.  The  form  of  a 
 state  cannot  be  thought  of  in  connexion  with  this  kingdom ;  a 
 state  presupposes  a  relation  to  transgression  ;  an  outward  law, 
 the  forms  of  judicature,  the  administration  of  justice,  are  essen- 
 tial to  its  organization.  But  all  these  can  have  no  place  in 
 the  perfect  kingdom  of  Cluist;    a  commimity   whose  whole 
 
88  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 ]Hinciple  of  life  is  love.  Laws  intended  for  the  free  mind  los^ 
 their  import  when  their  ob.ser^■ance  is  compelled  by  external 
 penalties  of  any  kind  whatever.  INIore  of  this  -view  hei'eafter, 
 ■when  we  come  to  treat  especially  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
 Nor  is  a  change  in  Christ's  feelings  to  be  in  any  ^^■ist^ 
 admitted.  The  yeav  of  joy  [the  «cce/>?flWe  year,  Lnke  iv.  19] 
 did  not  refer  to  the  happy  residts  which  he  hoped  to  attain, 
 but  to  the  blessed  contents  of  the  announcement  with  which 
 he  commenced  liis  labours ;  the  substance  of  the  message  itself 
 was  jo}rful,  whether  the  dispositions  of  the  people  would  make 
 it  a  source  of  joy  to  them,  or  not.  And  eA-en  on  his  fir&t 
 proclamation  at  Nazareth,  the  hostility  of  the  carnally -minded 
 midtitude  could  have  enabled  liim  to  prognosticate  the  genei'al 
 temper  with  wliich  the  whole  people  would  I'eceive  him.  It 
 follows  by  no  means,  from  the  as'o  wliich  he  uttered  over  liis 
 loved  Jenisalem  (Luke  xiii.  34,  3d),  that  he  had  hoj^ed  at  first 
 to  find  acceptance  with  the  entire  nation,  and  to  make  Jeiii- 
 salein  the  real  seat  of  liis  Theocratic  government.  Yet, 
 altliough  he  could  not  save  the  nation  as  a  A\hole,  he  offered 
 his  warnings  to  the  whole,  lea\"ing  it  to  the  issue  to  decide 
 who  were  A\alling  to  hear  his  voice. 
 
 §  52. — Two-fold  hcarhff  of  the  Kingdom  of  God— an  Lmard,  t^piritval 
 Pov:ci;  and  a  World- rcnmi'in;i  Poaer. 
 
 There  are  two  sides  to  the  conception  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  as  Christ  viewed  it;  in  reference  to  its  ideal  and  its  real 
 elements,  which  must  l)e  contemplated  in  their  connexioi; 
 with  each  other.  The  discourses  of  Christ  "will  be  found 
 c\erywhere  to  contradict  a  one-sided  ^iew  of  either  of  these 
 elements. 
 
 '^\\c  kingdom  of  Goo  was  indeed  fii"st  to  be  exliibited  as  a 
 communion  of  men  bound  together  )>y  the  same  S23ii"it,  inspired 
 1)}'  the  same  consciousness  of  GoD;  and  this  comnuuuon  was 
 to  find  its  central  point  in  Christ,  its  Redeemer  and  King. 
 As  he  liimself  ordered  and  du'ected  all  thuigs  in  the  fii-st  con- 
 givgiition  of  his  disciples,  so  he  was  subsequently  to  inspu'e, 
 rule,  and  cultivate  this  community  of  men  by  his  law  and  by 
 his  Spirit.  The  revelation  of  the  Sjdrit,  shared  by  all  its 
 members,  was  all  that  was  to  distiuguish  it  from  the  world,  so 
 called  in  tlic  New  Testament,  that  is,  the  common  mass  of 
 mankind,  as  alienated  from  Goo. 
 
 But  as  this  community  was  gi-adually  to  prevail  e\en  o\cr 
 the  mass  of  mankind  througli  tlie  power  of  the  indwelling 
 Spirit,  it  was  not  always  to  remain  entirely  inward  and  hidden^ 
 
AIMS  OF  THE  KIXCDOJI  OF  GOD.  89 
 
 but  to  send  forth,  continually  more  and  more,  a  renewing 
 influence ;  to  be  the  salt,  the  leaven  of  hmnanity,  the  city  set 
 vpon  a  kill,  the  candle  which,  once  lighted,  should  never  be 
 extinguished.  And  Christ  was  gradually,  through  this  com- 
 munity, his  organ  and  liis  royal  dwelling-place,  to  establish  his 
 kingdom  as  a  real  one,  more  and  more  widely  among  men,  and 
 subdue  the  Avorld  to  his  dominion.  In  this  sense  were  those 
 who  shared  in  his  communion  to  obtain  and  exercise,  even 
 upon  earth,  a  real  world-dominion.  It  is  the  aim  and  end  of 
 history,  that  Christianity  shall  more  and  more  become  the 
 world-governing  prmciple.  In  line,  the  end  of  this  develop- 
 ment a})pears  to  be  (though  not,  indeed,  simply  as  its  natural 
 result)  a  complete  realization  of  the  Divine  kingdom  which 
 Clu-ist  established  in  its  outward  manifestation,  fiiUy  answering 
 to  its  idea;  a  perfect  world-dominion  of  Christ  and  of  hi^; 
 organs ;  a  world  purified  and  transformed,  to  become  the  seat 
 of  His  univei-sal  empire. 
 
 80  did  Chi'ist  intend,  in  a  true  sense,  and  in  various  relations, 
 to  describe  liimself  as  King,  and  his  oi'gans  as  partakers  in  his 
 dominion  of  the  world.  It  was,  indeed,  in  a  real  sense  that  he 
 spoke  of  liis  kingdom,  to  be  manifested  on  earth.  And  a^^  he 
 was  to  build  up  tliis  kingdom  on  the  foundations  laid  do^vn  in 
 the  Old  Testament,  and  to  realize  the  plan  of  God  therem 
 prefigured,  he  could  rightfully  apply  to  liimself  the  figures  of 
 the  Old  Testament  in  regard  to  the  progress  of  the  Theocracy, 
 in  order  to  bring  the  truths  which  they  ^•eiled  clearly  out 
 before  the  consciousness  of  men.'  Although  his  disciples  at 
 fii"st  took  these  figures  in  the  letter,  still,  under  the  influence 
 of  Christ's  intercourse  and  teacliing,  they  could  not  long  stop 
 there.  And  not  only  his  dii-ect  instructions,  but  the  manner 
 in  wliich  he  opposed  the  idea  of  his  spiritual  and  inward  king- 
 dom to  the  carnal  notions  of  the  Jews,  contributed  to  give  his 
 followers  the  key  to  the  right  intei'pretation  of  these  types  and 
 shadows. 
 
 In  thus  comparing  Christ's  discoiu'ses  ^\  ith  each  other,  and 
 iu  the  unity  of  purpose  which  a  contemj)latiou  of  his  iohole  life: 
 makes  manifest,  we  find  a  guard  for  all  after  ages,  against 
 carnal  misconceptions  of  his  individual  (bscoiu'ses,  or  of  separate 
 
 '  Some  suppose  that  every  thing  iu  Christ's  discourses,  as  reporteil  by 
 Matthew  and  Luke,  iu  reference  to  this  real  Theocratic  element  is  to  be 
 ascribed  to  t!ic  Jewish  \iews  that  obscured  the  truth  as  uttered  by  Christ, 
 and  caused  it  to  be  reported  incorrectly.  Tliat  this  is  not  the  case  is 
 obvious  from  Paul's  plain  references  to  such  expressions  of  Christ's,  e.  g. 
 1  Cor.  vi.  2. 
 
00  THE  PLAJSf  OF  CHRIST 
 
 features  of  his  life.s  In  general,  -when  we  find  in  the  accounts 
 of  any  world-historical  man  such  a  unity  of  the  creative  mind, 
 we  are  willing,  if  individual  features  come  up  in  apparent  con- 
 tradiction to  the  general  tenor,  to  believe  that  he  was  misim- 
 derstood  by  incapable  contemporaries;  or,  if  this  cannot  be 
 safely  asserted,  because  the  contradictory  features  are  insepa- 
 rable from  others  that  bear  his  unmistakable  impress,  we 
 endeavour,  by  compaiing  his  manifestations,  to  find  that  higher 
 unity  iu  which  even  the  unmanageable  points  may  find  their 
 rightful  jjlace.  Utterly  unhistorical,  indeed,  is  that  perverted 
 principle  of  historical  exegesis  which  teaches  that  an  original, 
 creative  mind,  a  spirit  far  above  his  times,  is  to  be  compre- 
 hended from  the  prevading  opinions  of  his  age  and  nation ; 
 and  which  presupposes,  in  fact,  that  all  these  opinions  are 
 his  own.'' 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 THE  PLAN  OF  CHKIST  IK  ITS  RELATION  TO  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT 
 IDEA  OF  THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD. 
 
 The  question  now  arises,  in  what  relation  the  new  form  of 
 the  kingdom  of  God,  according  to  Christ's  plan,  stood  to  the 
 Old  Testament  foi-m  thereof;  a  question  winch  we  shall  have 
 to  answer  from  the  intimations  afforded  by  Christ  himself. 
 Indeed,  it  has  already  been  answered  by  our  remarks  upon  his 
 idea  of  the  Idngdom  as  developing  itself  from  mthin;  but  as 
 the  subject  has  its  difficulties,  and  especially  as  some  have  tried 
 to  pi'ove  that  Christ  spoke  and  acted  at  different  times  fr-om 
 opposite  points  of  view,  we  must  examine  it  more  closely. 
 
 §  53. — Christ's  Observance  of  the  Jewish  Worship  and  Law. 
 No  question  can  arise  as  to  Christ's  intention  to  extend  his 
 kingdom  abroad  among  the  pagan  nations;  the  Messianic  pre- 
 dictions of  the  Old  Testament  had  already  intimated  the 
 general  diffusion  of  the  worship  of  Jehovah;  and  John  the 
 JBaptist  had  hinted  at  the  possible  transfer  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God  from  the  Jews  to  the  heathen,  in  case  the  former  should 
 prove  to  be  unworthy  of  it.  And  what  was  afterward  novel 
 to  the  apostles  was,  not  that  the  pagans  should  be  converted 
 and  received  into  the  fellowship  of  the  Messiah,  but  that  they 
 should  be  received  without  accepting  the  Mosaic  law.     It  was 
 
 P  We  shall  speak  more  particularly  of  this  when  we  come  to  treat  of 
 the  mode  in  which  Christ  tr.iined  his  apostles. 
 
 ''  Conf.  what  Schldermacher  says  (Hermeneutik,  s.  20)  of  "  historical 
 interpretation/'  and  also  (s.  82)  of  the  "  Analogy  of  Faith." 
 
m  ITS  RELATION  TO  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT.  91 
 
 against  the  latter  view,  and  not  the  former,  tbat  even  the 
 strictest  Judaizers  objected.  It  was  to  refute  this  that  the 
 Ebionites  aj)pea]ed  to  Christ's  strict  observance  of  the  law,  and 
 to  liis  saying,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  that  he  "  came  not 
 to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil  the  law,''  and  that  "  not  one  jot  or  tittle 
 of  the  law  shordd  pass  away." 
 
 We  must  not  oppose  this  doctrine  by  quoting  Christ's  decla- 
 i-ations  that  the  essence  of  religion  must  be  found  in  the  soul, 
 and  that  outward  things  could  neither  cleanse  nor  sanctify 
 mankind  ;i  for  even  in  the  Kght  of  the  Old  Testament  it  was 
 known  that  piety  of  heart  was  indispensable  to  a  true  fidfil- 
 ment  of  the  law.  Christ  himself  appealed  to  a  passage  in  the 
 Old  Testament  (Hos.  vi.  6)  in  proof  of  this;  and  even  the 
 weU-disposed  scribe  (Mark  xii.  33)  admitted  it.  StUl,  the 
 necessity  of  an  outward  observance  of  the  law  might  be  main- 
 tained by  those  who  deemed  _  inward  purity  essential  to  its 
 value.  J 
 
 Viewing  the  relation  of  Christ's  doctrine  to  the  legal  stand- 
 point only  on  this  side,  we  might  conceive  it  to  have  stood  as 
 follows :  Directiag  his  attention  only  to  the  necessity  of  proper 
 dispositions  in  order  to  piety,  he  held,  as  of  fundamental  im- 
 portance, that  nothing  in  religion  not  springing  from  geniiinely 
 pious  feelings  could  be  of  any  avail;  and,  holding  fast  to  this, 
 did  not  investigate  further  the  question  of  the  continued 
 authority  of  the  ceremonial  law.  Satisfied  with  saving  what 
 was  most  essential,  he  permitted  the  other  to  stand  as  inviolable 
 in  its  Divine  authority.  Such  a  course  would  have  been  emi- 
 nently proper  in  Christ,  if  we  regard  him  as  nothing  more 
 than  a  genuine  reformer.  Every  attempt  at  true  reformation 
 must  have,  not  a  negative,  but  a  positive  point  of  departiu'e ; 
 must  start  with  some  tnith  which  it  fully  and  necessarily 
 recognizes. 
 
 The  view  which  we  have  just  set  forth  is  not  invalidated 
 by  Christ's  denunciations  of  the  Pharisees  for  their  arbitrary 
 statutes  and  burdensome  additions  to  the  law.'^  In  all  these 
 he  contrasted  the  law,  rightly  and  spiritually  understood,  -with 
 then*  false  traditions  and  interpretations.  As  for  actual  viola- 
 tion of  the  law,  he  could  never  be  justly  accused  of  it  ;  even 
 
 '  Such  as  Matt.  xv.  11  ;  Mark  vii.  15. 
 
 J  Even  Philo,  from  the  stand-point  of  his  religious  idealism,  held  the 
 necessity  of  a  strict  observance  of  the  ritual  law,  believing  that  it  facilitated 
 the  understanding  of  the  spiritual  sense  of  the  law.  He  asserted  this  against 
 the  idealists,  who  adhered  absolutely  to  the  letter,  in  his  treatise  "  De  Mi- 
 ffratione  Ahraami."  ^  Matt,  xxiii. 
 
92  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST 
 
 Paul,  who  SO  Strenuously  resisted  the  continued  obligation  of 
 the  law,  declares  that  Christ  submitted  to  it.^ 
 
 §  54. — His  Manifoitutlon  r/reoter  than  (he  "Temple.^' 
 But  a  comparison  of  Matt.  xii.  6 — 8,  w'itli  Mark  ii.  28,  will 
 suggest  to  us  something  more  than  a  mere  assault  upon  the 
 statutes  of  the  Pharisees.  In  the  fii'st  passage  he  begins  with 
 liis  opponents  upon  their  own  ground.  "  You  yourselves  admit 
 that  the  priests  who  serve  the  Temple  on  the  Sabbath  must 
 Ijrcak  the  literal  Sabbatical  law  in  view  of  the  higher  duties  of 
 the  Temple  service."  Then  he  continues,  "'  But  I  say  unto  you, 
 there  is  something  here  greater  tluin  the  Temple."^  In  these,  as 
 in  many  of  Clu'ist's  words,  there  is  more  than  meets  the  ear."* 
 When  we  remember  the  sanctity  of  the  Temple  in  Jewish  eyes, 
 as  the  seat  of  the  Shekinah,  as  the  only  place  where  God  could 
 ever  be  worshipj)ed,  we  can  conceive  the  weight  of  Christ's 
 declaration  that  kls  manifestation  was  sometliing  gi-eater  than 
 the  Temple,  and  was  to  introduce  a  revelation  of  the  glory  of 
 God,  and  a  mode  of  Divine  worship  to  Avhich  the  Temple- 
 service  was  entirely  subordinate.  We  may  infer  Christ's  con- 
 clusion to  have  been,  '•'  If  the  priests  have  been  freed  from  the 
 literal  observance  of  the  Sabbath  law  because  of  theu*  relation 
 tt)  the  Temj)le,  heretofore  the  highest  seat  of  worsliip,  how 
 much  more  must  my  disciples  be  freed  from  the  letter  of  that 
 law  by  their  relation  to  that  which  Ls  greater  than  the  Tem- 
 })le  !  (Then-  intercour.se  with  Him  was  sometliing  greater 
 than  Temple- worship.)  They  have  plucked  the  com  on  the 
 Sabbath,  it  is  tiiie,  but  they  have  done  it  that  they  might  not 
 
 '  Gal.  iv.  4. 
 
 '"  I  prefer  Lachmann's  reading  {fttX'Co%')  both  on  internal  anil  external 
 grounds.  I  cannot,  however,  believe,  with  De  Wette,  that  the  passage 
 refers  to  Christ's  Messianic  calling  alone  ;  but  rather  to  his  ^rholc  manifes- 
 tation, of  wlucli  his  ministry  as  Messiah  formed  part.  Similar  expressions 
 (if  Christ  refer  to  his  whole  appearance  ;  e.  fj.  Matt.  xii.  S,  speaks  of  his 
 pcr»on.     Coof.  Luke  xi.  30. 
 
 "  Justly  says  Dr.  v(nx  ovlln  (Ideen  <lb.  d.  inneren  Zusamuienhang  der 
 Glaubenseinigung  und  Glaubensreinigimg  in  der  evangel.  Kirche,  Lrips. 
 1824,  s.  10) :  "  Every  religious  student  of  the  Scriptures,  however  he  may 
 be  satisfied  with  the  sense  that  he  has  obtained  from  them  by  the  aids  of 
 philosophy  and  history,  must  he  constrained  to  acknowledge  that  the 
 .■>im]>k'St  words  of  the  Saviour  contain  a  depth  and  fidness  of  meaning 
 which  he  can  never  lx>ast  of  having  mastered"  These  holy  words,  con- 
 taining the  genu  of  an  unending  development,  could  only  be  understood 
 in  the  Spirit  (as  by  the  Apostles) ;  and  they  who  had  not  received  this 
 Spirit,  like  the  Judaizers,  who  adhered  to  the  letter,  could  not  but  misun- 
 derstand them. 
 
IN  ITS  RELATION  TO  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT.  93 
 
 be  disturbed  in  tlieir  cominimion  with  the  Son  of  Man,  and  in 
 reliance  upon  his  authority.  They  are  free  from  guilt,  then, 
 for  the  Son  of  Man  is  Lord  even  of  ilve,  Sabhathr  He  thus  laid 
 the  foundation  for  that  tiiie,  spuitual  worship  to  which  the 
 Temple-service  was  to  give  way. 
 
 Of  the  same  character  were  those  words  of  Jesus  which 
 taught  a  Stephen  that  Christ  would  destroy  the  Temple  and 
 remove  its  ritual- worship.  (Acts  \d.  14.)  Whether  he  learned 
 this  from  the  words  recorded  in  John  ii.  19,  or  from  some 
 others,  we  leave  for  the  present  undecided.  The  doctrine  of 
 Paul  in  regard  to  the  relation  between  the  Law  and  the 
 Gospel  was  only  an  extension  of  the  tmth  first  uttered  by 
 Stephen.  This  doctrine  could  not  have  originated  in  Paid, 
 Avithout  a  point  of  departiire  for  it  in  the  instructions  of  Christ 
 himself ;  stiU  less,  if  those  instructions  had  been  in  direct  con- 
 tradiction to  it. 
 
 Christ's  declaration,  "My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my  burden  light'^ 
 (Matt.  xi.  30),  was  designed,  indeed,  primarily,  to  contrast  liis 
 manner  of  teaching  and  leading  men  with  that  of  the  Phari- 
 sees ;  but  it  certainly  meant  for  more.  It  contrasted  his  plan 
 of  salvation  with  legalism  generally,  of  which  Pharisaism  was 
 only  the  apex.  Paul's  doctrine  on  the  subject  is  nothing  but 
 a  development  of  the  intimation  contained  in  these  words." 
 §  55. — The  Conversation  ivith  tJie  Samaritan  Woman. 
 
 We  have  thus  far  confined  ourselves  to  Christ's  declarations 
 as  given  by  Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke,  avoiding  John,  because 
 the  credibility  of  his  I'eports  of  Christ's  discourses  has  been 
 more  disputed.     But,  having  sho^vn  the  tendency  of  Christ's 
 
 "  ScMcicrmachcr  (in  liis  Ilermcneutik,  s.  82)  very  aptly  applies  the  oft- 
 abused  comparison  lietween  Christ  and  Socrates  to  illustrate  the  relation 
 between  the  apostolic  doctrines,  especially  those  of  Paul,  and  the  immediate 
 teachings  of  Christ.  He  justly  remarks,  that  while  there  was  a  similarity 
 in  the  fact  that  the  teachings  of  Socrates  were  not  written  down  by  himself, 
 Imt  transmitted  through  his  disciples,  who  marked  them  with  their  own 
 individuality  without  at  all  obliterating  the  Socratic  ground-colours,  the 
 substantial  dif<rcncc  lay  in  this,  that  the  affinity  of  the  Apostles  was  closer 
 than  that  of  the  followers  of  Socrates,  "  because  the  power  of  imity  which 
 emanated  fi-om  Christ  was  in  itself  greater,  and  acted  so  powerfully  upon 
 those  Apostles  who,  like  Paul,  had  marked  individual  peculiarities,  that 
 they  appealed,  in  their  teachings,  exclusively  to  Christ.  Although  Paul 
 iirst  brought  out  the  idea  of  the  conversion  of  the  heathen  into  perfect 
 clearness  before  the  Apostles,  yet  he  advocated  it  in  no  other  power  than 
 that  of  Christ.  Had  not  the  idea  been  contained  in  Christ's  teaching,  the 
 other  Apostles  would  not  have  recognized  Paul  as  a  Christian,  much  lesti 
 an  Apostle."  Tlie  same  remark  may  be  applied  to  many  other  important 
 doctrines. 
 
94  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST 
 
 doctrine  of  tlie  Law  from  tlie  first  Gospels  alone,  we  ai'e  surely 
 now  entitled  to  a2:>peal  to  his  conversation  "with  the  woman  of 
 Samaria  (John  iv.  7 — 30),  in  which  he  set  forth  the  Christian 
 \'iew,  that  religion  was  no  more  to  be  confined  to  any  one 
 place.  In  fact,  the  discourse  involves  no  doctrine  which  cannot 
 be  found  in  Christ's  declaration  elsewhere  recorded.  Perfectly 
 accordant  ^vith  his  declaration  to  the  hostile  Pharisees  who 
 clamoui-ed  so  loudly  for  the  ritual  law — "  the  manifestation  of 
 the  Son  of  Man  is  greater  than  the  Tem'ple  ;  and  he  is  Lord  of 
 the  Sabbath" — was  Ms  answer  to  a  woman  (ignorant,  to  be 
 sure,  and  destitute  of  a  spiritual  sense  of  the  Divine,  but  yet 
 free  from  prejudice,  and  susceptible  of  recei\dng  instruction 
 from  him,  because  she  believed  him  to  be  a  prophet),  when  she 
 inquired  as  to  the  right  place  to  worship  God  :  "  The  time  is 
 coming  when  the  worship  of  God  will  be  confined  to  no  visible 
 temple  ;  for  the  hour  cometh,  and  noto  is,  when  the  true  worshij)- 
 pers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  This 
 declaration  coidd  only  have  been  founded  on  the  fact  that 
 something  greater  titan  the  Temple  had  appeared  among  men. 
 
 §  56. — The  "  Destroyiiig  "  and  "Fulfilling  "  of  the  Law. 
 
 But  although  we  infer  that  Paul's  doctrine  of  the  disjunc- 
 tion of  Christianity  from  the  IMosaic  law  was  derived,  mediately 
 at  least,  from  Clu'ist's  o^vn  words,  we  must  admit  that  the 
 Judaizing  Christians,  mifit  as  they  were,  from  then-  Je^vish 
 stand-point,  fully  to  apprehend  his  teaching,  might  have  found 
 some  support  for  their  peciiliar  opiuions  both  in  his  words  and 
 in  his  actions.  Take,  for  instance,  the  passage,  "  Think  not 
 that  I  am  come  to  destroy  tlie  Law  ami  the  Prophets  ;  I  am  not 
 come  to  destroy,  hut  to  fulfil."  v  Their  Jewish  views  might  in- 
 terpret tliis  to  mean  that  he  did  not  intend  to  abrogate  the 
 ceremonial  pai't  of  the  law,  but  to  bring  about  a  strict  observ- 
 ance of  it.  Nor  shall  we  apply  here  the  distinction  between 
 the  moral  and  the  ritual  law ;  neither  the  connexion  of  the 
 passage  nor  the  stand-point  of  the  Old  Testament  would  justify 
 this.  Certainly,  as  he  used  the  terms  Law  and  Frophets  to 
 denote  the  two  great  diAdsions  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
 declared  he  would  not  destroy  either,  he  must  have  had  in 
 view  the  entire  law  ;  it  was  the  law,  as  a  lolwle,  that  he  came 
 not  to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil. 
 
 "VVe  need  only  to  undei'stand  correctly  what  kind  of  "  de- 
 stroying" it  is  which  Christ  disclaims.     It  is  a  "  destrojdng  " 
 
 p  Matt.  V.  17. 
 
FULFILLING  THE  LAW.  95 
 
 whicli  excludes  "  fulfilling ;"  a  destroying  wliicli  is  not  at  the 
 same  time  a  fiilfilling.  The  general  positive  clause,  "  /  am  come 
 to  fulfil,'^  is  used  as  proof  of  the  special  and  negative  clause, 
 "I  am  not  come  to  destroy  tlie  Law  and  the  Prophets ;'''  nor  are 
 ■we  to  make  the  former  a  special  one,  by  seeking  an  object  for 
 it  in  the  preceding  words.  On  the  contrary,  the  general  pro- 
 position, "  /  am  come  to  fulfil,''  which  holds  good  of  Christ's 
 entire  labours,  is,  in  this  case,  specially  applied  to  his  relation 
 to  the  Old  Testament.  Christ's  activity  is  in  no  sense  a 
 destroying  and  negative,  but  in  every  respect  a  fulfilling  and 
 creative  agency.  For  instance,  by  that  agency  human  nature 
 is  to  lose  none  of  its  essential  features ;  but  only  to  be  freed 
 from  the  bonds  and  defects  which  sin  has  imposed  upon  it,  so 
 that  its  ideal,  as  originally  designed  by  the  Creator,  may  be- 
 come the  real.  This  is  fulfilling ;  but  yet  it  mixst  be  accom- 
 panied by  the  destroying  of  whatever  opposes  it.  We  applj- 
 -the  same  principle  to  Christ's  relation  to  the  Mosaic  law.  The 
 Mosaic  Institute,  as  the  fundamental  law  of  the  special  Theo- 
 cracy exhibited  in  the  Jewish  nation,  was  a  veil,  a  limited 
 form,  in  which  the  will  of  God,  the  eternal  law  of  the  Theo- 
 cracy, was  appropriately  impressed  upon  the  men  of  that  time. 
 But  the  general  and  eternal  Theocratic  law  could  not  find  its 
 free  development  and  fulfilment  in  the  form  of  an  outward 
 state  law.  The  law  (in  its  whole  extent  I  mean,  including 
 what  is  called  ia  a  narrower  sense  the  moral,  as  well  as  the 
 ritual  law)  aimed  to  realize  the  will  of  God,  to  present  the 
 true  diKawcrvi'7]  under  the  relations  above  defined.  Bvit  what 
 the  law,  in  its  whole  extent,  aimed  at,  is  accomp)lished  through 
 Chi-ist ;  the  veil  is  rent,  the  bonds  are  loosed  by  the  liberating 
 Spirit,  and  the  law  reaches  its  before  unattainable  fulfilment. 
 This  fulfilment,  indeed,  involves  the  removal  of  all  obstruc- 
 tions ;  but  this  destroying  process  cannot  be  called  destroying, 
 as  it  is  an  essential  condition,  and  a  negative  element,  of  the 
 fulfilment  itself.  So  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy  in  the  mani- 
 festation and  labours  of  Christ  necessarily  involved  the  destruc- 
 tion of  the  prophetic  veil  and  covering  of  the  Messianic  idea.<i 
 
 The  Ebionites,  adhering  only  to  the  letter,  misunderstood 
 Christ's  declarations  on  this  subject ;  but  Paul,  viewing  them 
 in  their  true  spirit  and  universal  bearing,  obtained  those  views 
 on  the  relation  of  the  Law  and  the  Gospel  which  he  presents 
 in  such  passages  as  Rom.  iii.  31  ;  viii.  3,  4. 
 
 1  "We  shall  see  hereafter  how  tliis  interpretation  of  Christ's  words  i.s 
 verified  in  the  whole  train  of  thought  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount. 
 
96  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST 
 
 §  67. — 2V(e  Interpolation  in  Lidx  \i.  4.  (Cod.  Cant.) 
 There  is  a  traditional  account  of  another  remarkable  saying 
 of  Christ  in  regard  to  the  obsen'ance  of  the  Sabbath/  viz.,  that 
 on  a  certain  occa.sion,  seeing  a  man  at  work  on  the  Sabbath, 
 he  said  to  him,  "  Happy  art  tJiou  if  thoit  knoicest  ivliat  thou  art 
 doing  ;  but  if  thou  dost  twt  know,  thou  art  accursed,  and  a  trans- 
 gressor of  the  laiv."  We  must  not  leave  this  unnoticed,  for  as 
 other  words  of  Christ  wliich  did  not  find  place  in  the  canonical 
 Gospels  were  handed  dowai  by  tradition,^  so  it  is  jx>ssible  that 
 an  event  of  the  character  here  related  may  have  been  prcsei-ved 
 in  some  collection  of  evangelical  traditions  (e.  g.,  an  apocryphal 
 Gospel  or  some  other),  and  may  have  been  aftex'wai'd  trans- 
 ferred to  Luke  vi.  4,  as  having  an  affinity  vnth  the  context 
 there.  There  is  nothing  in  the  words  themselves  which  Christ 
 might  not  have  uttered  under  certain  circi;mstances  ;  for  their 
 im]ioi-t  is  a  sentiment  which  he  always  made  prominent ;  viz., 
 that  all  depends  upon  the  spirit  in  which  one  acts.  The 
 force  of  the  passage  is,  "  Hap])y  is  he  who  has  arrived  at  the 
 conviction  that  God  must  be  worsliipped,  not  at  special  times 
 and  places,  but  in  spirit  and  in  truth  ;  and  Avho  feels  himself 
 free  from  the  Old  Testament  Sabbatical  law.  But  he  who, 
 while  acknowledging  that  law,  allows  himself  to  be  induced  by 
 outward  motives  to  labour  on  the  Sabbath,  is  a  guilty  man ; 
 the  law  is  in  force  for  him,  and,  by  \dolating  his  conscience  for 
 the  .sake  of  an  external  good,  he  pronounces  his  o^vn  con- 
 demnation." 
 
 It  is  quite  a  different  question,  however,  whether  this  naiTa- 
 tive  does  not  bear  internal  marks  of  iinprobabihty ;  whether, 
 under  the  specified  circumstances,  Christ  would  have  spoken  as 
 he  is  i-eported  to  have  done.  First,  it  is  liardly  possible  to 
 imagine  that  any  one,  at  that  day,  among  the  Jews  of  Pales- 
 tme,  would  have  ventured  to  laboxir  on  the  Sabbath.  Agaiu, 
 it  is  hard  to  be]ie\e  that  Chri.st  would  have  pronoimced  such 
 labour  in  anywise  good,  unless  it  were  })erformed  in  the  dis- 
 charge of  a  s])ecial  duty.  Such  a  procedm-e.  more  tliau  luiy 
 other,  would  have  laid  him  open  to  the  reproach  of  coutonining 
 the  law.  He  looked  \\\)on  the  law  as  having  been  a  divinely 
 ordained  part  of  the  d(;vel<  ipment  of  God's  kingdom,  and  a?-, 
 
 '  In  the  Cod.  Ount.  (Cod.  Bezae)  this  passage  immediately  follow? 
 Luke  \\.  4  :  "  ry  avry  »//«fpp  ^laffdfievoQ  riva  ipya^o^ivov  Tiji  <raQ€aTi{} 
 t'lTTti'  avrtfi'  ui'Ofiwn^i,  fl  ^uv  oiCuq  tI  ttouTc,  finKuptor  tl"  ti  (.t  fii)  oldag, 
 iiTiK([Tdi)aTOi;  K(tt  irapai'dTtjc  u  rov  vofiov." 
 
 "  Acts  ,vx.  35. 
 
XOT  ALTERED.  97 
 
 therefore,  necessary,  until  the  period  when  the  new  form  of 
 that  kingdom  should  go  into  operation.  Only  in  the  progi'ess 
 of  this  new  form  was  the  abrogation  of  the  law  to  follow  from 
 the  consciousness  of  redemption  through  Christ ;  and  then, 
 indeed,  its  destruction  would  be  one  with  its  fulfilment ;  and 
 until  that  point  of  progi'ess  arrived,  Christ  himself  set  the  ex- 
 ample of  a  conscientious  observance  of  the  law.  He  oi)posed 
 the  Pharisaic  statutes,  indeed,  but  it  was  because  they  took  the 
 law  in  its  letter,  not  in  its  spirit,  and  surrounded  its  observance 
 with  diliicidties.  He  made  it  a  flindamental  point,  that  all 
 true  obedience  mxist  spring  from  piety  and  love ;  but  still  it 
 was  obedience  to  the  lavx  He  gave,  therefore,  as  wc  have  seen, 
 intimations  only  of  that  higher  period  in  wliich  the  law  was  to 
 be  done  away;  intimations,  moreover,  which  could  only  be 
 understood  through  his  own  Spirit,  after  his  work  upon  earth 
 was  done.  Hence  he  certainly  covild  have  pronounced  no 
 action  good  in  which  mans  vvill  allowed  itself  to  anticipate 
 God's  order,  especially  an  action,  grounded  on  motives  under- 
 stood by  nobody,  which  might  have  injuriously  affected  the 
 religious  con\dctions  of  others.  Paid  lays  down  quite  a  con- 
 trary rule  in  1  Cor.  -viii.  Nor  did  Christ  liimself  act  in  such 
 a  way  in  other  cases. 
 
 There  is,  then,  very  poor  authority  for  this  passage,  either 
 ijiternal  or  external.  Its  invention  was  probably  suggested 
 by  the  woi-ds  of  Paul  in  Rom.  xiv.  22,  23,  and  affords  a  very 
 good  illustration  of  the  difference  between  mere  individual  inven- 
 tions and  the  genuine  historical  ti-aditions  of  the  Evangehsts. 
 
 We  close  our  survey  of  Christ's  sayings  in  regard  to  his 
 relations  to  the  Old  Testament  with  a  remark  clirectly  sug- 
 gested by  it,  from  which  the  weightiest  consequences  may  be 
 deduced. 
 
 The  manner  in  which  he  contrasted  the  Old  Testament  with 
 its  fulfilment,  the  New,  and  elevated  the  least  of  Christians 
 above  all  the  prophets,  shows  how  clearly  he  distinguished  the 
 kernel  front  its  perishable  shell,  the  r)i\-ine  idea  from  its  tem- 
 poraiy  vcnl,  the  truth  wliich  lay  in  germ  iu  the  Old  Testament, 
 from  the  contracted  form  in  wliich  it  presented  itself  to  Old 
 Testament  minds.  Applpng  this  general  principle  to  indivi- 
 dual cases  as  they  ai'ise,  we  may  learn  how  to  interpret,  in 
 Chi'ist's  own  sense,  the  figures  which  he  employed  to  illustrate 
 his  jMessianic  world  dominion.  In  this  way  some  of  the 
 results  at  which  we  have  already  aiTived  may  find  further 
 confirmation. 
 
98  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 
 NEW  FORM  OF  THE  IDEA  OF  THE  PERSON  OF  THE  THEOCRATIC 
 
 KING. 
 
 §  58. — Tlie  Names  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  Man. 
 
 Our  conception  of  tlie  2^^1'son  of  tlie  Messiah,  as  Theocratic 
 Eong,  is  closely  connected  -wdth  that  which  we  may  entertain 
 of  the  kingdom  of  God  itself,  and  of  its  process  of  develop- 
 ment. In  reference  to  both,  Jesus  joined  himself  indeed  to 
 the  existing.  JcAvish  conceptions,  but,  at  the  same  time,  infused 
 into  them  a  new  spix'it  and  a  higher  regenerating  element. 
 
 Both  of  the  names  which  he  applied  to  himself — Son  of  God 
 and  So7i  0/  Man — are  to  be  foimd  among  the  designations  of 
 the  Messiah  in  the  Old  Testament ;  but  he  used  them  in  a  far 
 higher  sense  than  was  current  among  the  Jews.  He  ob\iously 
 employed  them  antithetically :  they  contain  correlative  ideas, 
 and  cannot  be  thoroughly  understood  apart  from  their  recipro- 
 cal relation.  It  is  clear  from  Matt.  xvi.  16;  xxvi.  03;  John  i. 
 50,  and  from  all  that  is  kno^vn  of  the  current  theological  lan- 
 guage of  the  Jews  at  that  time,  that  the  name  "  Son  of  God " 
 ■was  the  most  common  designation  of  Messiah,  as  the  best 
 adapted  to  denote  liis  highest  dignity,  that  of  Theocratic  King. 
 The  name  "/S'cwi  of  Man''  involves,  indeed,  an  allusion  to  the 
 description  of  the  Mes.siah  in  Dan.  \n.  (further  illustrated  in 
 Christ's  last  words  before  the  high-priests.  Matt.  xxvi.  64); 
 but  it  is  certain  that  this  name  was  not  among  the  more  usual 
 or  best-kno\^^l  titles  of  Messiah.  This  may  explain  why,* 
 when  Jesus  on  a  certain  occasion  had  stated  a  fact  in  regard 
 to  himself  as  Son  of  Man  [viz.  his  approaching  death]  which 
 did  not  accord  with  prevailing  ideas,  that  liis  hearers  began 
 to  doubt  whether  he  did  not  mean  to  designate  by  that  title 
 some  other  j^erson  than  the  Messiah.  It  is  used  by  none  of 
 the  apostles  for  that  purpose;  and,  indeed,  nowhere  in  the 
 New  Testament,  except  in  the  discourses  of  Christ  and  in  that 
 of  Stephen  (Acts  \di.  56) ;  and  in  tliis  last  case  it  is  probable, 
 as  Olshauscn  justly  remarks,  that  Stephen  had  an  immediate 
 and  vivid  intuition  of  Jesus,  as  he  had  seen  him  in  his  human 
 fonn. 
 
 §  59. — Import  of  the  Tiile  Son  of  Man,  as  used  by  Christ  himself. — 
 Rejection  of  Alexandrian  and  other  Analogies. 
 
 Christ  must,  therefore,  have  had  special  reasons  for  adopt- 
 ing, with  an  obvious   predilection,  the  less-known  Messianic 
 «  Jolin  xii.  34. 
 
THE  TITLE  •'  SON  OF  MAN."  99 
 
 title.  Even  if  we  were  to  grant  that  lie  used  it  more  fre- 
 quently because  of  its  less  obAdous  application,  in  order,  at 
 first,  to  lead  the  Jews  gradually  to  recognize  him  as  Messiah ; 
 still  we  should  not  have  a  sufficient  explanation  of  his  employ- 
 ing it  so  generally  and  so  emphatically."  We  find  a  better 
 reason  for  it  in  Christ's  conscious  relation  to  the  human  race ; 
 a  relation  which  stu'red  the  very  depths  of  his  heart.  He  called 
 himself  the  "  Son  of  Man"  because  he  had  appeared  as  a  man; 
 because  he  belonged  to  mankind;  because  he  had  done  such 
 great  things  even  for  human  nature  (Matt.  ix.  8) ;  because  he 
 was  to  glorify  that  nature ;  because  he  was  himself  the  realized 
 ideal  of  humanity.^' 
 
 "  I  must  differ  herefrom  Scholten,  lAlcTce,  Von  Coin  (Bibl.  Dogm.  ii.  16); 
 and  Strauss  (Leben  Jesu)  ;  and  agree  with  Schlciermaclicr,  Thuluck,  Olshau- 
 sen,  and  Kling  (Stud.  u.  Krit.  1836,  i.  137).  Justly  says  ScMelermacher 
 of  the  title  "  Son  of  Man,"  "  Christ  would  not  have  adopted  it  had  he 
 not  been  conscious  of  a  complete  participation  in  human  nature.  Its 
 application  would  have  been  pointless,  however,  had  he  not  used  it  in  a 
 sense  inapplicable  to  other  men  ;  and  it  was  pregnant  with  reference  to  the 
 distinctive  differences  between  him  and  them."  (Doginatik,  ii.  91,  3rd  ed.) 
 Certainly  there  is  manifest,  in  the  often-repeated  expressions,  sayings,  and 
 proverbs  uttered  by  Christ,  more  the  impression  of  an  original  and  creative 
 mind  than  a  mere  appropriation  of  what  might  have  been  given  to  his 
 hand  by  his  age  and  nation.  It  is  one  of  the  merits  of  the  great  man 
 whose  words  we  have  just  quoted,  that  he  vindicated  this  tn;th  in  many 
 ways  in  opposition  to  a  shallow  theologj'.  The  unclean  spirit  which  he 
 banished  is  now  endeavouring,  with  seven  others  worse  than  himself,  to 
 take  possession  of  this  age ;  in  which  endeavour,  2>lease  God,  he  wiU  not 
 succeed. 
 
 ^  Conf.  Matt.  xii.  8  ;  John  i.  52  ;  iii.  13  ;  v.  27  ;  vi.  53.  The  force  of 
 the  first  passage  in  John  (i.  52)  is,  that  Christ  would  glorify  humanity  h\ 
 restoring  its  fellowship  with  celestial  powers.  The  second  (iii.  13)  imports 
 that  he  reveals  his  Divine  being  in  human  nature,  and  lives  in  heaven  as 
 man.  The  third  (v.  27),  that  as  man  he  will  judge  the  human  race.  The 
 fourth  (vi.  53),  that  we  must  thoroughly  take  to  ourselves  and  be  pene- 
 trated by  the  flesh  and  blood  {i.  c.  the  pure  humanity,  the  form  of  which 
 he  assumed  to  reveal  the  Divine)  of  him  who  can  be  called  man  in  a  sense 
 that  can  be  predicated  of  no  other,  and  who  himself  has  incarnated  the 
 Di\'inity.  (On  the  passage  from  Matt,  see  p.  92.)  In  Matt.  ix.  S,  there 
 is,  in  the  statement  that  the  entire  human  nature  is  glorified  in  Christ,  an 
 intimation  of  what  is  expressed  in  the  title  "  Son  of  Man,"  in  Christ's 
 sense  of  it. 
 
 It  is  remarkable,  that  while  this  emphatic  title  of  the  Son  of  Man 
 appears  in  the  discourses  of  Christ  both  in  the  synoptical  Gospels  and 
 John,  that  its  deeper  sense,  although  not  to  be  mistaken  in  some  of  the 
 passages  in  the  former,  is  far  more  vividly  expressed  in  John.  Yet  if  it 
 were  the  case  (as  has  been  said)  that  John,  following  the  prevalent  opinion, 
 designed  to  represent  Jesus  as  the  Logos  appearing  in  humanity,  and, 
 leaving  the  human  nature  in  the  back -ground,  to  present  the  Divine  con- 
 spicuously, he  could  not  have  used  this  title  so  frequently.     There  is  no 
 
100  THE  PLAN  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 "We  cfcrtainly  cannot  find  in  Christ's  use  of  the  title  any 
 trace  of  the  Alexandrian  Theologoumenon  of  the  archetype  of 
 hnmanity  in  the  Logos,  of  Pldlds  distinction  between  the  idea 
 of  humanity  and  its  manifestation  (or  the  Cabbalistic  Adam 
 Cadmoii);  notwithstanding  it  was  not  by  accident  that  so 
 manv  ideal  elements;  formed  from  a  commingling  of  Judaism 
 and  Hellenism,  were  given  as  points  of  departui-e  to  the  rexdism 
 of  Christianity;  although  this  last  was  grounded  on  the  highest 
 fact  in  history. 
 
 So,  too,  the  fundamental  idea  of  the  title  "  Son  of  Man"  is, 
 perhaps,  allied  to  that  involved  in  the  Je"wish  designation  of 
 Messiah  as  the  "second  Adam;"  but  it  is  clear  that  Christ  was 
 not  led  by  the  latter  fact  to  employ  it.  Much  rather  do  we 
 suppose  that  the  name,  although  used  by  the  prophets,  i-eceived 
 its  loftier  and  more  profound  significance  from  Christ's  o^vn 
 Divine  and  human  consciousness,  independent  of  all  other 
 sources.  It  would  have  been  the  height  of  arrogance  in  any 
 man  to  assume  such  a  relation  to  humanity,  to  style  himself 
 absolutely  Man.  But  He,  to  whom  it  was  natural  thus  to 
 style  himself,  indicated  thereby  his  elevation  above  all  other 
 sons  of  men — the  Son  of  God  in  the  Son  of  Man. 
 
 The  two  titles,  "  Son  of  God"  and  "  Son  of  Man,"  therefore, 
 bear  evidently  a  reciprocal  relation  to  each  other.  And  we 
 conclude  that  as  Christ  used  the  one  to  designate  his  human 
 personality,  so  he  employed  the  other  to  point  out  his  Divine; 
 and  that  as  he  attached  a  sense  far  more  profound  than  was 
 common  to  the  former  title,  so  he  ascribed  a  deeper  meaning 
 than  was  usual  to  the  latter. 
 
 §  &Q.— Import  of  the  Title  Sox  op  God. 
 (1.)  John's  Sense  of  the  Title  accordant  with  that  of  the  other  Evangelists. 
 We  are  indebted  to  John's  Gospel,  more  tlian  to  either  of 
 the  others,  for  those  expressions  of  Christ  which  relate  espe- 
 cially to  the  indwelling  within  him  of  the  Divine  essence.  It 
 does  not,  however  (as  some  suppose),  follow  from  this  that 
 John,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  remodelled  the  dLscoiu'ses 
 of  Clirist  according  to  the  Alexandrian  theology.  The  fact 
 may  be  explained  on  entirely  other  gi*ounds,  e.  g.  his  more  in- 
 timate connexion  with  Christ,  and  the  peculiar  profoundness 
 
 trace  of  Alcxandrianism  in  John,  nor  can  his  preference  for  the  expression 
 l)e  attributed  to  his  individual  pecidiarities,  for  there  is  nothing  of  the 
 kinil  in  \\\i  Epittles.  The  only  individual  peculiarity  that  we  can  detect 
 in  John,  in  this  respect,  is  his  susceptibility  to  impression  from  certain 
 emphatic  expressions,  especially  such  as  relate  to  the  person  of  Christ. 
 
THE  TITLE  '•' SOX  OF  GOD."  101 
 
 of  his  mind ;  moreover,  the  discourses  recorded  by  him  are 
 longer  and  more  consecutively  didactic  and  controversial  than 
 those  given  by  the  other  Evangelists.  The  impartiality,  toci, 
 •with  which  he  sets  forth  the  pure  humanity  of  Christ  is  suffi- 
 cient to  prove  the  groimdlessness  of  such  a  rej^roach. 
 
 If  we  can  only  find  individual  expressions  in  the  other  Evan- 
 gelists which  involve  the  idea  of  the  "Son  of  God"  in  John's 
 sense,  we  shall  have  proved  satisfactorily  that  the  latter  was 
 derived  immediately  from  Christ  himself.  Now  Matt.  xi.  27, 
 "  No  num  knowetlh  tlie  Son  hut  the  Fath€,r,  oieitJier  knoweth  any 
 onan  tli^  Fatfier  save  tlie  Son"  is  just  such  a  passage.  It  inti- 
 mates precisely  such  a  mysterious  relation  between  the  Father 
 and  the  Son,  as  John  more  fully  sets  forth  as  imparted  to  him 
 by  the  revelation  of  Christ.  So,  also,  the  question  propounded 
 by  Christ  to  the  Pharisees,  "Wltat  think  ye  of  tlie  Christ .?  xnliose 
 Son  is  he  V  could  have  had  no  other  object  than  to  lead  them 
 to  conceive  Messiah  as  the  Son  of  God  in  a  higher  sense  than 
 they  were  accustomed  to.  Again,  the  heathen  centuiion 
 (Matt.  -viii.  5),  who  deemed  his  roof  unworthy  of  Chiist,  and 
 begged  him,  -vvithout  approaching  his  abode,  to  heal  the  sick 
 servant  by  a  word,  cei-tainly  considered  him  as  a  superior  being 
 v,-ho  had  ministering  spirits  at  command.  He  CAidently  did 
 not  form  his  idea  of  Christ  from  the  common  Jewish  coucej)- 
 tions  of  the  Messiah  ;  on  the  contrary,  liLs  explanation  (verse  9) 
 of  the  impression  wliich  he  had  received  (either  from  the 
 accounts  of  others,  or  from  pei-sonal  observation  of  Christ's 
 pei-son  and  labours)  is  perfectly  in  keeping  -with  his  charactei- 
 and  notions  while  as  yet  a  pagan. ^'^  But  Christ  (who  ah\ays 
 rejected  any  honours  that  were  ascribed  to  him  fi-om  eiToneoas 
 ■views^)  not  only  did  not  correct  the  centurion,  but  held  his 
 faith  up  as  a  model. 
 
 In  a  word,  the  whole  image  of  Christ  presented  in  the 
 synoptical  Gospels,  exhibits  a  majesty  far  transcending  human 
 nature,  and  utterly  irreconcilable  with  Ebionitish  conceptions. 
 A  manifestation  so  extraordinaiy  presupposes  an  inward  essence 
 such  as  that  which  John's  Gospel  fully  unfolds  to  us. 
 
 (2.)  And  confirmed  by  Paul's. 
 Nor  could  the  origin  of  Paul's  doctrine  of  the  pei'son  of 
 Christ  be  explained,  unless  Clirist  himself  had  given  statements 
 corresponding  to  those  recorded  in  John's  Gospel.     So,  too,  the 
 
 *  The  whole  account  bears  the  inimitable  stamp  of  historical  truth. 
 
 *  Luke  xi.  27  ;  xviii.  19. 
 
102  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST, 
 
 various  tlieological  tendencies  that  developed  themselves  after 
 the  apostolic  age,  presuppose  a  turn  of  thought  intermediate 
 between  that  especially  exliibited  in  Matthew  and  that  of 
 Paul.  Precisely  such  an  intermediate  point  was  occupied  by 
 John.y 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 THE  MEANS  AND  INSTRUMENTS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 A.    THE  ME-VNS  OF  CHRIST  IN  GENERAL. 
 §  61. — Christ  a  Sjnritual  Teaclier. 
 
 As  the  kingdom  which  Christ  came  to  establish  was  a 
 spiritual  one,  intended  to  develop  itself  outwardly  from 
 within,  so  the  means  which  he  employed  in  its  foundation 
 were  entirely  of  a  spiritual  nature.  In  his  declaration  before 
 Pilate,^  after  he  had  (1)  disclaimed  any  piu-pose  of  setting  up 
 an  earthly  kingdom,  affirming  at  the  siime  time  (2)  that  ho  was 
 King  in  a  certain  sense,  he  added  (3)  that  lie  came  into  the 
 toorld  to  testify  of  tJie  truth.  These  three  propositions,  taken 
 together,  set  forth  Ms  purpose  to  found  his  kingdom,  not  by 
 worldly  means,  but  by  the  testimony  of  the  truth.  But  he 
 testified  of  the  truth  by  his  whole  life,  by  his  words  and  works, 
 comprising  the  entire  self-revelation  of  Him  who  could  say, 
 ^'I  am  the  Tridhr 
 
 Inasmuch,  therefore,  as  he  himself  designates  the  testimony 
 of  the  truth  aa  his  means  of  founding  his  kingdom  ;  inasmuch, 
 also,  as  he  appeared  first  as  Prophet,  in  order  to  lead  those 
 who  recognized  him  as  such,  to  recognize  him  also  as  jMessiah 
 and  Theocratic  Bang,  we  must  treat  of  his  work  as  Prophet,  or 
 of  liis  exercise  of  the  office  of  Divine  Teacher,  as  the  instru- 
 ment by  which  he  laid  the  groimdwork  of  his  reign  among 
 men. 
 
 f  Liicke  has  justly  remarked  upon  the  difference  between  the  classic, 
 •creative  tendencies  of  the  apostolic  times,  and  the  later  imitations  of  them. 
 The  dividing  line  between  the  former  and  the  latter  is  distinctly  marked. 
 Tlie  later  development  of  Christian  doctrine  presupposes  the  different 
 apostolic  types  of  doctrine,  and  among  them  that  of  John.  It  is,  therefore, 
 uttsrly  unhistorical  to  seek  the  origin  of  such  a  Gospel  as  John's  in  later 
 Chi'.rch  developments  (as  some  attempt  to  do).  Tiie  latter  are  utterly 
 destitute  of  the  hanuonious  unity  of  Christian  spiritual  elements  that 
 -distinguishes  the  former.  '  John  xviii.  33-38. 
 
TR^VmiNG  OF  THE  APOSTLES.  103 
 
 §  62. — Different  Theatres  of  Christ's  Labours  as  Teacher. 
 
 Clirist  exercised  Ms  office  as  teaclier  in  two  distinct  tlieatres, 
 Galilee  and  Jerusalem  ;  and  his  mode  of  teacliing  varied  accord- 
 ingly. That  carnal  mania  for  miracles  (directly  contrasted  by 
 Paul^  \sdth  the  Greek  pride  of  reason)  which  infected  the  Jews 
 everywhere,  whether  in  Galilee  or  Jerusalem,  and  added  pre- 
 sumption to  their  narrow-mindedness,  proved,  indeed,  in  both 
 places,  the  greatest  hinderance  to  their  reception  of  the  words  of 
 Christ.  This  common  Jewish  featm'e  of  opposition  to  the  spirit 
 of  Christ  justified  the  Apostle  John,  when  he  was  reviewing 
 the  past  in  its  gi'eat  outlines,  in  embracing  not  only  the  domi- 
 nant Pharisaic  party  at  Jerusalem,  but  also  the  hosts  of  Galilee, 
 imder  the  general  conception  of  'lovhaioLy' 
 
 Yet,  as  the  people  of  Galilee  were  of  a  more  simple  turn  of 
 mind,  and  were  less  subject  to  the  influence  of  Pharisaism  than 
 those  of  Jerusalem,  they  must  naturally  have  been  more  sus- 
 ceptible to  his  instructions.  But  a  prophet  is  not  wont  to  be 
 held  in  honour  in  his  own  country  ;  nor  was  the  nari-ow-minded, 
 carnal  supernaturalism  of  the  Galileans  likely  to  recognize  in 
 tjie  son  of  the  carpenter  of  Nazareth  the  man  sent  of  God.  It 
 was  not  until  the  displays  of  his  power  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
 Theocracy  had  revealed  iiim  in  a  liigher  light,  that  he  found  a 
 better  reception  on  his  return  to  the  villages  of  GalLlee.<= 
 
 It  was  partly,  then,  in  JeiTisalem,  where  the  Jews  gathered 
 together  from  all  the  world  at  the  Passover,  and  pai-tly  in 
 Galilee,  where  he  spoke  to  the  people,  clustered  in  more  or  less 
 numerous  groups  about  him,  especially  as  he  walked  along  the 
 shores  of  Genesareth,  that  the  scene  of  his  labours  as  a  pubUc 
 teacher  lay. 
 
 §  63. — Choice  and  Training  of  the  Apostles  to  le  subordinate  Teachas. 
 
 Those  who  had  no  ear  to  hear  the  teachings  of  Christ  fell  off 
 one  by  one,  and  left  aroimd  him  a  narrow  and  abiding  circle  of 
 susceptible  souls,  who  were  gradually  more  and  more  attracted 
 by  him,  and  more  and  more  deeply  imbued  -with  liis  spirit.  A 
 closer  [the  closest]  circle  stUl  was  formed  of  his  constant  com- 
 panions, the  Apostles.  As  the  seed  which  he  sowed  was 
 received  and  developed  so  differently  in  the  soils  of  different 
 minds,  and  as  the  import  of  his  teaching  could  not  be  thoroughly 
 comprehended  untd  his  work  upon  earth  was  finished,  there 
 was  danger  that  the  confused  traditions  of  the  multitude  woidd 
 hand  doAvn  to  posterity  a  very  imperfect  image  of  himself  and 
 "  1  Cor.  i.  22.        i*  See  John's  Gospel,  passim.        «  John  iv.  44,  45. 
 
104  THE  SLEAKS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Lis  doctrines,  and  that  tlie  necessary  instrument  for  the  founda- 
 tion of  the  kingxloni  of  God,  viz.,  the  propagation  of  the  truth, 
 would  be  v/anting. 
 
 It  might  be  supposed  that  Christ  could  have  best  guarded 
 against  this  result  by  transmitting  his  doctrine  to  all  after-ages 
 in  a  form  -written  by  Mmself.  And  had  He,  in  whom  the 
 Di\ine  and  the  human  were  combined  in  imbroken  harmony, 
 intended  to  do  tliis,  he  could  not  but  have  given  to  the  Church 
 the  perfect  contents  of  liis  doctrine  in  a  perfect  form.  Well 
 was  it,  however,  for  the  course  of  development  which  God 
 intended  for  his  kingdom,  xhat  what  could  be  done  was  not 
 done.  The  ti'uth  of  God  was  not  to  be  presented  in  a  fixed 
 and  absolute  form,  but  in  manifold  and  peculiar  representations, 
 designed  to  complete  each  other,  and  wliich,  bearing  the  stamp 
 at  once  of  God's  inspiration  and  man's  imperfection,  were  to  be 
 developed  by  the  activity  of  free  minds,  in  free  and  lively 
 appropriation  of  what  God  had  given  by  his  spirit.  This  will 
 appear  yet  more  plainly  hereafter,  from  the  principles  of 
 Christ's  mode  of  instruction,  as  set  forth  by  himself  At 
 present  we  content  oiu-selves  with  one  single  remai-k.  Christ's 
 declaration,  "  It  is  the  Spirit  that  quickeneth  ;  the  flesh  profiteth 
 Twthing,"'^  and  his  emphatic  rejection  of  an  act  of  worship  that, 
 without  thoiight  of  the  Spuit,  deified  only  his  outward  form,'= 
 may  serve  to  guard  all  after-ages  against  that  tendency  to  deify 
 the  form  which  is  so  fatal  a  bar  against  all  recognition  of  the 
 essence.  What  could  have  contriljuted  more  to  produce  such  a 
 tendency  than  a  -vvi-itten  dociunent  from  Christ's  own  hand  ? 
 
 Since,  therefore,  Christ  intended  to  leave  no  such  fixed  ride 
 of  doctrine  for  all  ages,  Avritten  by  himself,  it  was  the  more 
 necessary  for  liim  to  select  organs  capable  of  transmitting  to 
 posterity  a  correct  image  of  himself  and  his  teaching.  Such 
 organs  wei'e  the  apostles,  and  their  training  constituted  no 
 luiimportant  part  of  his  work  as  a  teacher. 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 Christ's  mode  of  teaching  in  regard  to  its  method  A^^) 
 
 FORM.       A.    GENERAL  PRINCIPLES. 
 §  64. — Jlii  mode  of  Teachlnr/  adapted  to  tJie  Stand-point  of  his  Hearers. 
 We  shall  first  seek,  in  the  intimations  of  Christ  himself,  for 
 the  pi'inciples  of  his  mode  of  teaching,  and  the  grounds  on 
 wliich  he  adoi)ted  it. 
 
 •<  John  vi.  63.  «  Luke  xi.  27. 
 
HIS  MODE  OF  TEACHING.  105 
 
 Such  an  intimation  may  be  found  in  ilatt.  xiii.  52.  After 
 he  had  littered  ajid  expoiuided  sevei-al  parables  in  regard  to  the 
 kingdom  of  God,  and  had  been  assiu-ed  by  the  apostles  that 
 they  understood  him,  he  continued  :  "  From  the  example  I 
 have  given  you,  in  thus  making  hidden  truths  clear  by  means 
 of  parables,  ye  may  learn  that  e.very  scribe  zcho  is  instructed  into 
 the  kingdom  of  Heaven  is  like  a  Jiouseliolder,  ivho  hringeth  forth 
 out  of  his  treasure  things  new  and  old."  As  a  householder  shows 
 his  visitors  his  jewels  ;  exhibits,  in  pleasing  alternation,  the 
 modern  and  the  antique,  and  leads  them  from  the  common  to 
 the  rare,  so  must  the  teacher  of  Divine  truth,  in  the  new  mani- 
 festation of  the  kingdom  of  God,  biing  out  of  his  treasures  of 
 knowledge  truths  old  and  new,  and  gradually  lead  liis  hearers 
 from  the  old  and  usual  to  the  new  and  unaccustomed.  Utterly 
 unlike  the  rabbins,  ^\"ith  their  obstinate  and  slavish  adherence 
 to  the  letter,  the  teachers  of  the  new  epoch  were  to  adapt 
 themselves  freely  to  the  cii'cumstances  of  their  hearers,  and,  in 
 consequence,  to  present  the  tnith  imder  manifold  varieties  of 
 form.  In  a  word,  Christ  himself,  as  a  teacher,  was  the  model 
 for  his  disciples. 
 
 As  the  passage  above  quoted  referred  primarily  to  the  para- 
 bolic mode  of  teaching  which  Christ  had  just  employed,  we  find 
 in  it  an  important  reason  for  the  fi-equent  use  which  he  made 
 of  figures  and  similitudes.  It  was,  namely,  in  order  to  bring- 
 new  and  higher  truths  vividly  before  the  minds  of  his  hearers, 
 by  means  of  illustrations  dra^vn  from  objects  familiar  to  them 
 in  common  life  and  nature. 
 
 But  the  passage  can  be  applied  also  to  many  other  features 
 of  his  mode  of  teaching  ;  for  instance,  to  his  habit  of  leading  his 
 hearers,  step  by  step,  from  the  stand-point  of  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment to  that  of  the  New  ;  adapting  liimself  to  the  old  repre- 
 sentations and  the  Jewish  modes  of  thought  and  speech  derived 
 from  them  (especially  those  which  referred  to  Messiah's 
 kingdom),  and  thus  imparting  the  new  spirit  luider  the  ancient 
 and  accustomed  foi-ms.  All  his  accommodation  to  fonns  finds  its 
 explanation  here. 
 
 §  65. — His  Teaching  presented  Seeds  and  Sliimdants  of  Thought. 
 Again,  he  told  his  disciples  (John  x\i.  25)  that  up  to  that 
 time  he  had  veiled  the  truth  in  parables,  but  that  the  time  was 
 approacliing  when  he  should  declare  plainly  and  openly  all  that 
 he  had  to  tell  them  of  his  Father.  He  thus  taught  them  that 
 they  would  be  enabled,  at  a  later  period,  by  the  aid  of  the  illu- 
 
106  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 minating  Spirit,  to  develop  from  his  discourses  tlie  hidden 
 truths  which  they  enfolded.  It  must,  therefore,  by  no  means 
 surprise  us  to  find  that  the  full  import  of  most  of  his  words 
 was  not  comprehended  bj'^  his  contemporaries  ;  such  a  result, 
 indeed,  was  just  what  we  might  expect.  He  would  not  have 
 been  "  Son  of  God  "  and  "  Son  of  Man,"  had  not  his  words,  like 
 his  works,  vnih  all  theii'  adaptation  to  the  eu-cumstances  of  the 
 times,  contained  some  things  that  were  inexplicable  ;  had  they 
 not  borne  concealed  within  them  the  germ  of  an  infinite  deve- 
 lopment, reseired  for  future  ages  to  unfold.  It  is  this  featiu*e 
 (and  all  the  Evangelists  conciu-  in  then.-  representations  of  it) 
 which  distinguishes  Christ  from  all  other  teachers  of  men. 
 Advance  as  they  may,  they  can  never  reach  him ;  then*  only 
 task  need  be,  by  taking  liim  more  and  more  into  their  life  and 
 thought,  to  learn  better  how  to  bring  forth  the  treasui'es  that 
 lie  concealed  in  him.^ 
 
 The  form  of  his  expressions,  whether  he  uttered  parables, 
 proverbs,  maxims,  or  apparent  paradoxes,  was  intended  to  spur 
 men's  minds  to  profounder  thought,  to  awaken  the  Divine 
 consciousness  wdthin,  and  so  teach  them  to  understaiid  that 
 which  at  first  served  only  as  a  mental  stimulus.  It  was  desigmed 
 to  impress  indelibly  upon  the  memory  of  his  hearers  truths 
 perhaps  as  yet  not  fidly  intelHgible,  but  wliich  would  grow 
 clear  as  the  Di^^ne  Hfe  was  formed  mthin  them,  and  become 
 an  ever-increasing  source  of  spmtual  light.  His  doctrine  was 
 not  to  be  propagated  as  a  lifeless  stock  of  tradition,  but  to  be 
 received  as  a  U\TLng  Spmt  by  willing  minds,  and  brought  out 
 into  ftdl  consciousness,  according  to  its  import,  by  free  spiiituid 
 activity.  Its  indi\'idual  parts,  too,  were  only  to  be  appre- 
 hended in  their  first  proportions,  in  the  complete  connection  of 
 that  higher  consciousness  Avhich  He  was  to  call  foi-th  in  man. 
 The  form  of  teaching  which  repelled  the  stupid,  and  passed 
 unheeded  and  misunderstood  by  the  imholy,  roused  susce])tible 
 minds  to  deeper  thought,  and  rewarded  their  inqvdiies  by  the 
 discovery  of  ever-increasing  treasures. 
 
 §  CO. — Its  Jtcsulls  dependent  upon  t?ie  Spirit  of  the  Hearers. 
 But  the  attainment  of  this  end  depended  upon  the  suscepti- 
 bility of  the  hearers.     So  fai'  as  they  hungered  for  time  spu'itual 
 food,  so  far  as  the  parable  stimulated  them  to  deeper  thought, 
 
 '  ScJdcierm(ichcr  says  beautifully  (Christliche  Sittenlelire,  p.  72),  that  all 
 our  progress  [in  Divine  knowledge]  must  consist  solely  in  more  correctly 
 understanding  and  more  completely  appropriating  to  ourselves  that  which 
 is  in  Christ. 
 
HIS  MODE  OF  TEACHING.  107 
 
 and  SO  far  only,  it  revealed  new  riches.  Those  -with  whom 
 this  was  reaUy  the  case  were  accustomed  to  wait  until  the 
 throng  had  left  their  Master,  or,  gathering  round  him  in  a 
 narrow  circle,  in  some  retii-ed  spot,  to  seek  clearer  light  on 
 points  which  the  parable  had  left  obscure.  The  scene  described 
 in  Mai'k  iv.  10,  shows  us  that  otiiers  besides  the  twelve  apostles 
 were  named  among  those  who  remained  behind  to  ask  bim 
 questions  after  the  crowd  had  dispersed.  Not  only  did  such 
 questions  afford  the  Saviom'  an  opportunity  of  imparting  more 
 thorough  instruction,  but  those  wlio  felt  constrained  to  offer 
 them  were  thereby  drawn  into  closer  fellowship  with  him.  He 
 became  better  acquainted  with  the  souls  that  were  longing  for 
 salvation. 
 
 The  greater  number,  however,  in  theu'  stupidity,  did  not 
 trouble  themselves  to  penetrate  the  shell  in  order  to  reach  the 
 kernel.  Yet  they  miist  at  least  have  perceived  that  they  had 
 understood  nothing;  they  coiild  not  learn  separate  phrases  ft*om 
 Christ  (as  they  might  from  other  reUgious  teachers)  and  think 
 they  comprehended  them,  while  they  did  not.  And  so,  in 
 proportion  to  the  susceptibility  of  his  hearers,  the  parables  of 
 Christ  revealed  sacred  things  to  some  and  veiled  them  from 
 others,  who  were  destined,  through  their  own  fault,  to  remain 
 in  darkness.  The  pearls,  as  he  himself  said,  were  not  to  be 
 cast  before  swine.  Thus,  like  those  "hard  sayings"?  which 
 were  to  some  the  "words  of  Life,"  and  to  others  an  insuppoxi:able 
 "  offence,"  the  pai'ables  served  to  sift  and  purge  the  throng  of 
 Christ's  hearers. 
 
 A  single  example  will  bring  this  vividly  before  us.  On  a 
 certain  occasion,  when  Christ  had  pronoimced  a  parable,  and 
 the  multitude  had  departed,  the  earnest  seekers  after  truth 
 gathered  about  him  to  ask  its  interpretation. 'i  He  expressed 
 his  gratification  at  their  eagerness  to  learn  the  true  sense  of 
 his  words,  and  said :  "  Unto  you  it  is  given^  to  know  the  mysteries 
 of  the  kingdom  of  God,  hut  to  others  in  parables  [without  the 
 explanations  that  are  given  to  susceptible  minds],  that  they 
 may  see  with  their  eyes,  and  yet  not  see ;  that  they  may  hear 
 with  their  ears,  and  yet  not  hear."  There  is  here  expressed  a 
 moral  necessity,  a  judgment  of  God,  that  those  who  were 
 destitute  of  the  right  wiU  (on  which  aU  depends,  and  without 
 which  the  Di-\dne  "drawing"  is  in  vain),   could  undei-stand 
 
 f  John  vi.  60.  i>  Luke  viii.  10  ;  Mark  iv.  11. 
 
 '  /.  e.,  they  followed  the  inward  "drawing  of  God"  (John  vi.  44,  45),  and 
 "thence  became  susceptible  of  Di\ane  impressions. 
 
108  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 notliing  of  tlie  tilings  of  the  Lord  wliicli  they  saw  and  heard. 
 So  long  as  they  remained  as  they  were,  the  whole  life  of  Christ, 
 according  to  the  same  general  law,  remained  to  them  an  inex- 
 plicable parable.  J  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  "tlie  others'' 
 ■\vith  whom  Luke  contrasts  the  inquiring  disciples,  are  styled 
 by  Mark  (iv.  11)  "t/wse  that  are  vntlwut."  The  simplest  way 
 to  interpret  this  phrase  is  to  apply  it  to  those  who  did  not 
 enter  to  ask  a  solution  of  what  they  had  not  understood ;  it 
 may  mean  those  who  were  outside  of  the  narrower  fellowship 
 around  Christ;  but  in  either  sense  the  result  is  the  same.**^ 
 
 "  The  mysteiy,"  in  the  passage  above  quoted,  is  something 
 hidden  from  men  of  worldly  minds;  incomprehensible  to  them, 
 and  to  all  who  are  excluded,  by  their  spiiit  and  disposition, 
 fi'om  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  tliis  is  the  case  "with  all 
 truths  that  relate  to  that  kingdom,  however  simple  and  clear 
 they  may  seem  to  those  whose  inner  life  has  made  them  at 
 home  in  it. 
 
 After  Christ  had  explained  the  parable  to  his  discijiles,  he 
 took  occasion,  from  this  particular  case,  to  impress  upon  them 
 
 J  According  to  Mark  and  Luke,  the  disciples  asked  of  Christ  the  meaning 
 of  the  parable  ;  according  to  Matthew  (xiii.  10),  they  inquired  why  he 
 spoke  to  the  multitude  in  parables.  In  Luke  there  is  only  an  allusion  to 
 I.sai.  vi.  9  ;  in  Matthew  the  passage  is  cited  in  fiill.  In  both  respects  the 
 statement  in  Mark  and  Luke  seems  to  be  the  more  simple  and  original. 
 Tlie  apostles  had  more  reason  to  ask  the  meaning  of  the  parables  than  to 
 find  out  Christ's  motive  for  uttering  them  ;  yet  as  Christ,  in  rei)ly  did  state 
 that  motive,  it  was  perhaps  implied  in  the  question.  The  full  quotation  of 
 the  passage  in  Isaiah  was  a  natural  change,  and  accorded  with  Matthew's 
 habit.  The  connection  is  well  preserved  in  Matthew,  and  the  difference 
 between  his  statement  and  the  others  is  merelj-  formal  ;  nor  is  there  the 
 slightest  ground  to  suppose  that  the  author  of  Matthew  simply  worked  out 
 Mark's  account  or  some  other  which  lay  before  him.  It  goes  on  naturally 
 thus  :  in  answer  to  the  question  why  he  spoke  to  the  multitude  in  parables, 
 Christ  replied  (v.  11),  that  it  was  not  given  to  them,  as  to  the  disciples,  to 
 know  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  God ;  the  rcaaon,  founded  in  their 
 moral  disjiositions,  is  stated  in  v.  12  ;  and  then,  in  v.  13,  the  Divine 
 sentence,  that  "  on  account  of  their  stupidity  he  spoke  to  them  only  in 
 parables."  There  is  nothing  inconsistent  liere,  nor  is  any  arbitrary  pro- 
 cedure attributed  to  Christ  ;  for,  in  fact,  the  parables  served  to  veil  as  well 
 as  to  reveal;  and  they  did  the  one  or  the  other,  according  to  the  moral 
 disposition  of  those  that  heard  them. 
 
 ''  Whatever  may  have  been  the  original  expression  of  Christ  in  this 
 passage,  the  fact  that  Luke  speaks  of  "  mysteries"  in  the  plural,  and  Mark 
 of  "mystery  "  in  the  singular,  contributes,  at  any  rate,  to  its  elucidation. 
 We  have  here  another  proof  that  the  germs  of  Paul's  teaching  are  to  be 
 found  in  the  discourses  of  Christ ;  this  passage  contains  Paul's  whole  doctrine 
 of  the  relation  of  the  natural  mind  to  the  knowledge  of  Divine  things  ;  e.  g., 
 1  Cor.  ii.  14. 
 
HIS  MODE  OF  TEACHING.  109 
 
 the  general  lesson  that  evei'ytliing  depended  on  the  s^niit  in 
 which  they  received  his  words.  He  came  not  (he  told  them) 
 to  liide  his  hght,  but  to  enlighten  the  darkness  of  men.  It 
 was  liis  calling  to  be  the  Light  of  the  woi'ld  (Mark  iv.  21). 
 (He  spoke  in  order  to  reveal  the  tinith,  not  to  hide  it.)  The 
 truth  which  he  had  obscurely  intimated  was  to  tmfold  itself 
 for  the  instruction  of  all  mankind  (v.  22 ;  of.  John  xvi.  25). 
 Yet  the  organs  who  were  destined  to  unfold  it  must  have 
 "liearing  ears"  (v.  2-3).  And  he  proceeds  (v.  24),  "  Take  heed, 
 therefore,  lohat  ye  hear  (be  not  like  the  stiipid  midtitude,  who 
 perceive  only  the  outward  word) ;  and  unto  you  that  hear  shall 
 more  he  given  (my  revelations  to  you  will  increase  in  proportion 
 to  the  susceptibility  wdth  wliich  you  appropriate  the  truths 
 which  I  have  intimated)."  And  he  concludes  with  the  general 
 law,i  "  Whosoever  has — in  reality  has — whosoever  has  made  to 
 himself  a  living  possession  of  the  truths  which  he  has  heard,  to 
 him  shall  more  be  ever  given.  But  he  that  has  received  it 
 only  as  something  dead  and  outward,  shaU  lose  even  that  which 
 he  seems  to  have,  but  really  has  not.""i  His  knowledge, 
 un>spiritual  and  dead,  -will  turn  out  to  be  worthless — the  shell 
 without  the  kernel. 
 
 Some  have  supposed  that  these  words  (v.  25)  were  merely  a 
 proverb  of  common  life,  of  Avhich  Christ  made  a  higher  appli- 
 cation. But  the  proofs  that  have  been  offered  °  in  favour  of 
 the  existence  of  such  a  proverb  are  by  no  means  to  the  point ; 
 and  in  fact,  it  would  be  hardly  true  applied  to  temporal  pos- 
 sessions, for  the  poor  man  can  increase  his  small  store  by 
 industiy  and  prudence ;  and  the  rich,  without  those  qualities, 
 may  soon  lose  his  heaped-up  treasm-es.  The  saying  is  fully 
 true  only  in  an  etliical  sense;  it  speaks  of  moi-al,  and  not 
 material  possessions.  Applied,  however,  as  a  proverb,  it  must 
 refer,  not  to  mere  possession,  but  to  properiy  held  as  such,  and 
 can  only  mean  that  he  who  holds  property,  as  his  avm,  will  not 
 keep  it  as  dead  capital,  but  gain  more  with  it ;  while  he,  on  the 
 other  hand,  who  does  not  know  how  to  use  what  he  has,  ^y\\\ 
 lose  it.  Thus  understood,  the  words  are  not  only  fiilly  appli- 
 cable to  the  special  case  before  us,  biit  also  to  manifold  relations 
 in  the  sphere  of  moral  life. 
 
 The  apostles   had  as  yet,   in  their  intercour.se  with  their 
 
 '  Mark  iv.  25  ;  Luke  viii.  IS  ;  Matt.  xiii.  12. 
 
 ""  I  must  hold  b  ^oKtl  ixfiv  to  be  the  true  reading  of  Luke  viii.  18,  in 
 spite  of  what  Dc  Wcttc  says  to  the  contrary, 
 "  Conf.  Wdslcin  on  Matt.  xiii.  12. 
 
110  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Master,  received  but  little;  but  that  little  was  impi'inted  on 
 their  hearts.  They  did  not,  like  the  multitude,  receive  the 
 word  only  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  but  made  it  thoroughly 
 and  spiritually  their  own.  And  thus  was  laid  within  them 
 the  foundation  of  Christian  progress. 
 
 §  67. — Ills  Mode  of  Teaching  corresponds  to  the  General  Laiv  of  Development 
 of  the  Kingdom  of  God. 
 
 It  was,  then,  according  to  Christ's  own  words,  a  peculiar  aim 
 and  law  of  his  teaching,  to  awaken  a  sense  for  Divine  things 
 in  the  human  mind,  and  to  make  further  communications  in 
 proportion  to  the  degree  of  living  appropriation  that  might  be 
 made  of  what  was  given.  And  this  corresponds  with  the 
 general  laws  established  by  Christ  for  the  development  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God.  It  is  his  law  that  choice  must  be  made,  by 
 the  free  determination  of  the  will,  between  God  and  the  world, 
 before  the  susceptibility  for  Divine  things  (which  may  exist 
 even  in  the  as  yet  fettered  soul,  if  it  incline  towards  God),  and 
 the  emotions  of  love  °  for  the  Divine  which  springs  from  that 
 susceptibility,  can  arise  in  the  human  heaii;.  The  heart  tends 
 to  the  point  from  whence  it  seeks  its  treasure  (its  highest 
 good).P  The  sense  for  the  Divine,  the  inward  hght,  must 
 shine.  If  worldly  tendencies  extingTiish  it,  the  darkness  must 
 be  total.  Christ's  words,  Christ's  manifestation,  can  find  no 
 entrance.  The  Divine  light  streams  forth  in  vain  if  the  light- 
 perceiving  eye  of  the  soul  is  darkened.  i  The  parable  of  the 
 sower  vividly  sets  forth  the  necessity  of  a  susceptible  soil, 
 before  the  seed  of  the  Word  can  germinate  and  bring  forth 
 fruit.  And  so  he  constantly  assured  the  carnal  Jews  that 
 they  could  not  understand  him  in  their  existing  state  of  mind. 
 He  who  will  not  follow  the  Divine  "drawing"  (revealed  in  his 
 dawning  consciousness  of  God)  can  never  attain  to  faith  in 
 Christ,  and  must  feel  himself  repelled  from  his  words.  The 
 carnal  mind  can  find  nothing  in  him.''  The  form  of  his 
 language  (so  he  told  those  who  took  offence  at  it^)  appeared 
 incomprehensible,  because  its  import,  the  truth  of  God,  could 
 not  be  apprehended  by  souls  estranged  from  Hiin.  The  form 
 and   the    substance    were  alike   paradoxical   to   them.      The 
 
 0  Pascal  (Art  de  Persuader),  "  qu'il  faut  aimer  les  choses  divines,  pour 
 les  connaltre."     Beautifully  said.  p  Matt.  \i.  21, 
 
 1  Luke  xii.  34;  Matt.  vi.  22.  ■•  John  \-i.  44. 
 
 *  John  viii.  33,  44.  In  v.  43,  \a\ia  expresses  the  mode  of  speaking. 
 The  substance  is  expressed  by  Xoyoc.  See  Liicke's  excellent  remarks  on  the 
 passage. 
 
PARABLES,  111 
 
 uncongenial  soul  found  Ms  mode  of  speaking  strange  and 
 foreign;  it  is  foreign  no  more  when  the  spirit,  through  its 
 newly-roused  sense  for  the  Divine,  yields  itself  up  to  the  higher 
 Spirit.  The  words  can  be  understood  only  by  those  who  have 
 a  sympathy  for  the  spirit  and  the  substance. 
 
 Thus,  then,  the  other  Evangelists  agree  with  John  in  regard 
 to  the  fundamental  principles  of  Chi'ist's  mode  of  teaching. 
 
 B.  chkist's  use  op  parables. 
 
 §  68. — Idea  of  the  Parable. — Distinction  hetiveen  Parable,  Fable,  and 
 Mytlms. 
 
 Without  doubt  the  form  of  Christ's  communications  was  in 
 some  degree  determined  by  the  mental  peculiarities  of  the 
 people  among  whom  he  laboiu'ed,  viz.,  the  Jews  and  Orientals. 
 "We  may  find  in  this  one  reason  for  liis  use  of  parables ;  and 
 we  must  esteem  it  as  a  mark  of  his  freedom  of  mind  and  crea- 
 tive originahty,  that  he  so  adapted  to  his  own  purposes  a  form 
 of  instruction  that  was  especially  current  among  the  Jews. 
 But  yet  his  whole  method  of  teaching,  as  we  have  already  set 
 it  forth,  would  have  led  laim,  independently  of  his  relations  to 
 the  people  arormd  him,  to  adopt  this  mode  of  communicating- 
 truth.  Not  inaptly  as  one  of  the  old  writers  compared  the 
 parables  of  Christ's  discoiu'ses  to  the  parabolic  character  of  his 
 whole  manifestation,  representing,  as  it  did,  the  supernatural 
 in  a  natural  form.* 
 
 We  may  define  the  parables  as  representations  through 
 which  the  truths  pertaining  to  the  kingdom  of  God  are  \ividly 
 exhibited  by  means  of  special  relations  of  common  life,  taken 
 either  from  nature  or  the  world  of  mankind.  A  general  truth 
 is  set  forth  under  the  likeness  of  a  particular  fact,  or  a  con- 
 tinuous narrative,  commonly  derived  from  the  lower  sphere  of 
 life  ;  the  operations  of  nature,  and  the  qualities  of  inferior 
 animals,  or  the  acts  of  men  in  their  mutual  relations  with  each 
 other,  being  assumed  as  the  basis  of  the  representation.  Those 
 parables  wluch  are  derived  entii'ely  from  the  sphere  of  nature 
 are  gi'ounded  on  the  typical  relations  that  exist"  between 
 Natiu-e  and  Spirit.     So,  in  the  vine  and  its  branches,  Christ 
 
 *  AioTi  Kai  u  KvpioQ  ovK  wv  KOfffiiKOQ,  ug  KOffjutKOC  etc  avQpwTTOvQ  t/XOev. 
 
 —Strom,  vi.  677. 
 
 "  "  It  can  readily  be  shown  that  the  parables,  as  used  by  Christ,  had  the 
 significance  of  their  types.  Nature,  as  she  has  disclosed  herself  to  the  mind 
 of  man,  must  in  them  bear  witness  of  Spirit."  Steffens  (Religionsphilo- 
 sophie,  i.  146.)  And  so  Schelling,  on  the  relation  between  Nature  and 
 History,  "They  are  to  each  other  parable  and  interpretation."  (Philos. 
 Schriften,  1809,  457.) 
 
112  THE  MEAXS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 finds  a  type  of  the  relation  between  himself  and  those  who  are 
 members  of  his  body.  He  is  the  true  Vine.  The  law  whose 
 realiti/  finds  place  in  the  .spiritual  life  is  only  imaged  and 
 tyi^ified  in  nature. 
 
 Even  though  the./rt6^e  be  so  defined  as  to  be  included  in  the 
 parable,  as  the  species  is  comprehended  in  the  genus,  still  the 
 latter,  especially  as  Christ  employs  it,  has  always  its  o^\^l  dis- 
 tinctive chai-acteristics.  The  parable  is  allied  to  the  fable,  as 
 used  by  Msop,  so  far  forth  as  both  differ  fi-om  the  Mytlms  (an 
 imconscious  invention),  by  employing  statements  of  fact,  not 
 pretended  to  be  historical,  merely  as  coveriugs  for  the  exhibi- 
 tion of  a  general  truth  ;  the  latter  only  being  presented  to 
 the  mind  of  the  hearer  or  reader  as  real.  But  tlie  parable  is 
 distinguished  from  the  fable  by  this,  that  in  the  latter,  quali- 
 ties or  acts  of  a  higher  class  of  beings  .may  be  attributed  to  a 
 lower  (e.  g.,  those  of  men  to  brutes) ;  while,  in  the  former,  the 
 lower  sphere  is  kept  perfectly  distinct  from  the  liigher  one 
 which  it  serves  to  illustrate.  The  beings  and  powers  thus 
 introduced  always  follow  the  law  of  their  natiu-e,  but  their 
 acts,  according  to  this  law,  are  used  to  figure  those  of  a  higher 
 race.  The  fable  cannot  be  tiixe  according  to  its  form,  e.  g., 
 when  biiites  are  introduced  thinking,  speaking,  and  acting 
 like  men  ;  but  the  representations  of  the  parable  always  corre- 
 spond to  the  facts  of  nature,  or  the  occun-ences  of  civil  and 
 domestic  life,  and  remind  the  hearer  of  events  and  phenomena 
 Avithin  his  own  experience.  The  mere  introduction  of  bi-utes, 
 as  personal  agents,  in  the  fable,  is  not  sufficient  to  distinguish 
 it  from  the  parable,  which  may  make  use  of  the  same  con- 
 trivance ;  as,  for  instance,  indeed,  Christ  employs  the  sheep  in 
 one  of  his  parables.  The  great  distinction  here,  also,  Ues  in 
 what  has  already  been  remarked ;  brutes  introduced  in  the 
 parable  act  according  to  the  law  of  their  natiire,  and  the  two 
 spheres  of  nature  and  the  kingdom  of  God  are  carefully  sepa- 
 i*ated  from  each  other.  Hence  the  reciprocal  relations  of  brutes 
 to  each  other  are  not  made  use  of,  as  these  could  furnish  no 
 appropriate  image  of  the  relation  between  man  and  the  Idng- 
 dom  of  God.  And  as  the  lower  animals  are,  by  an  impulse  of 
 their  natiu-e,  attached  to  man  as  a  being  of  a  higher  order, 
 Divine,  as  it  wei-e,  in  comparison  to  themselves,  and  destined 
 to  rule  over  them,  the  relations  between  man  and  this  inferior 
 i";xce  may  serve  very  well  to  illustrate  the  still  higher  relations 
 of  the  former  to  tlie  kingdom  of  God  and  the  Saviour.  Thus, 
 for  instance,  Christ  employs  tlie  connexion  of  sltecp  and  the 
 
PARABLES.  113 
 
 slwplierrd  to  give  a  vivid  image  of  tlie  relations  of  human  souls 
 to  their  Divine  guide. 
 
 There  is  ground  for  this  distinction  between  parable  and 
 fable,  both  in  \\\&j'orm  and  in  the  suhstancr.  In  the  form,  be- 
 cause the  jiarable  intends  that  the  objects  of  nature  and  the 
 occurrences  of  eveiy-day  life  shall  be  associated  with  higher 
 truths,  and  thus  not  only  illustrate  them,  but  pi'eserve  them 
 constantly  in  the  memory.  In  the  substance,  because,  although 
 single  acts  of  domestic  or  social  virtue  might  find  points  of 
 likeness  in  the  quahties  of  the  lower  animals  (not  morality 
 in  general,  for  this,  like  religion,  is  too  lofty  to  be  thus  illus- 
 trated), the  dignity  of  the  sphere  of  Divine  life  would  be 
 essentially  lowered  by  transferring  it  to  a  class  of  beings 
 entii-ely  destitute  of  corresponding  qualities. 
 
 §  69. — Order  in  ivMch  the  Parables  were  Delivered. — T/icir  Perftction. — 
 Mode  of  Interprdhif)  tJum. 
 
 We  find  many  parables  placed  together  in  Matthew  xiii.  ; 
 and  the  question  natm-ally  arises  whether  It  is  probable  that 
 Clii'ist  uttered  so  many  at  one  and  the  same  time.  We  can 
 readily  conceive  that  he  should  use  various  parables  in  succes- 
 sion in  order  to  present  the  same  truth,  or  several  closely 
 related  truths,  in  cUfferent  forms ;  tliis  variety  would  tend  to 
 excite  attention,  to  present  the  one  truth  more  clearly  by  such 
 various  illustration,  to  put  the  one  subject  before  the  be- 
 holder's eye  more  steadily,  in  many  points  of  \dew,  and  thus 
 to  imprint  it  indelibly  upon  his  memory.  But  it  is  not  to  be 
 supposed  that  Christ  delivered  a  succession  of  parables  different 
 both  in  form  and  matter,  or,  if  somewhat  alike  in  form,  different 
 in  scope  and  design ;  for  this  could  only  have  confused  the 
 minds  of  his  hearers,  and  thus  frustrated  the  very  purpose  of 
 this  mode  of  instruction. 
 
 It  will  be  easy  to  gather  what  is  necessary  to  the  j)crfection 
 of  the  parable,  from  what  we  have  said  of  its  natm-e.  In  the 
 first  place,  the  fact  selected  from  the  lower  spliere  of  life  should 
 be  perfectly  adapted,  in  its  o^\^l  nature,  to  give  a  vivid  repre- 
 sentation of  the  higher  truth  ;  and,  secondly,  the  indi-\ddual 
 ti-aits  of  the  lower  fact  itself  should  be  clearly  exliibited 
 according  to  natm-e.  Hence,  in  order  to  understand  the  pa- 
 rables correctly,  we  must  endeavour  to  seize  upon  the  single 
 truth  which  the  parabolic  dress  is  designed  to  illustrate,  and 
 refer  all  the  rest  to  this.  The  sepai-atefeatm-es,  which  serve  to 
 give  roundness  and  distinctness  to  the  pictiu-e  of  the  lower 
 fact,  may  aid  us  in  obtaining  a  more  many-sided  view  of  the 
 
 I 
 
114  THE  MEANS  OF  CIIlirST. 
 
 one  truth,  the  higher  sphere  coiTespondiug  to  the  lower  in 
 more  respects  than  one  (e.  g.,  the  parables  of  the  shej^herd  and 
 the  saioer) ;  but  we  must  never  seek  the  perfection  of  the  pa- 
 rables of  Christ  in  giving  significancy,  apart  from  the  proper 
 point  of  comparison,  to  the  parts  of  the  nan'ative  which  were 
 merely  intended  to  complete  it ;  for  this,  by  diverting  the  mind 
 from  the  one  truth  to  a  variety  of  particulars,  can  only 
 embarrass  instead  of  assisting  it,  and  must  thus  frustrate  the 
 very  aim  of  the  parable  itself.  Such  a  procedure  would  open  a 
 wide  field  for  arbitrary  interpretation,  and  could  not  fail  to  lead 
 the  hearer  astray. 
 
 The  separate  parables  will  be  treated  in  their  proper  con- 
 nections in  the  course  of  the  narrative. 
 
 §  70. — Christ's  Teaching  not  confined  to  Parables,  but  conveyed  also  in 
 
 longer  Discourses. 
 It  followed,  not  only  from  Christ's  chosen  mode  of  teaching, 
 but  also  from  his  relations  to  the  new  spiritual  creation,  whose 
 seeds  he  implanted  in  the  hearts  of  his  disciples,  that  he  used 
 pithy  and  sententious  sayings  and  aphorisms  instead  of  length- 
 ened exhibitions  of  doctrine.  They  were  intended  to  be 
 retained  in  ever  vivid  recollection,  and,  notwithstanding  their 
 separation,  to  contain  the  germs  of  an  organically  coimected 
 system  of  moral  and  religious  truth.  The  interpreter  and  the 
 historian  find  the  difficulty  of  placing  these  in  their  proper 
 relations  and  occasions,  increased  by  the  fact  that  the  accounts 
 of  the  first  three  Evangelists  arrange  and  present  them  in  dif- 
 ferent connections  of  thought.  The  Chiu'ch,  however,  has  lost 
 nothing  by  this  ;  it  only  establishes  the  doctrine  that  the  truths 
 uttered  by  Christ  admit  of  manifold  apprehension  and  appUca- 
 tion.  Yet  there  is  no  ground  for  the  assimiption  that  Christ 
 taught  mily  by  means  of  parables  and  aphorisms.  The  suppo- 
 sition, in  itself,  is  sufficiently  improbable,  that  he  ncA-er  em- 
 ployed longer  and  more  connected  forms  of  discourse  for  the 
 instruction  of  the  circles  of  disciples  who  had  received  impres- 
 sions from  him  and  gathered  themselves  about  his  person  ;  and, 
 besides,  an  example  of  this  kind  (recorded  by  the  lii'st  three 
 Evangelists)  is  to  be  found  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount.  We 
 shall  hereafter  inquire  more  closely  into  the  system  of  Christian 
 truth  contained  in  that  discourse. 
 
 §  71. — John's  Gospel  contains  cMffly  connected  and  profound  Discourses  ; 
 and  Why? 
 We  must  here  consider  the  difference  between  the  fonn  of 
 Christ's  expositions  as  given  by  the  Jirst  three  Evangelists,  and 
 
PARABLES.  115 
 
 as  recorded  by  John.  Some  recent  writers  have  found  an 
 irreconcileable  opposition  between  them  botb  of  fonn  and 
 substance  ;  and  have  concluded  therefrom  either  that  John,  in 
 reproducing  the  discoui'ses  of  Christ  from  memory,  involuntarily 
 blended  his  own  subjective  views  with  them,  and  thus  presented 
 doctrines  which  a  real  disciple  could  not  at  the  time  have 
 apprehended  ;  or  tliat  some  one  else  at  a  later  period,  and  not< 
 John,  was  the  author  of  this  Gospel.  They  contrast  the  tho- 
 roughly practical  bearing  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  with 
 (what  they  call)  the  mystical  character  of  the  discourses 
 recorded  by  John.  They  find  everything  in  the  former  simple 
 and  intelligible,  while  the  latter  abounds  in  paradoxes,  and 
 seems  to  study  obscurity.  Moreover,  the  latter  is  almost  desti- 
 tute of  parables ;  a  form  of  eloquence  not  only  national,  but 
 also  characteristic  of  Christ,  judging  from  his  discourses  as 
 given  in  the  other  Gospels. 
 
 But  let  any  one  only  yield  himself  to  the  impression  of  the 
 Sermon  on  the  IMoimt,  and  then  ask  himself  whether  it  be 
 probable  that  a  mind  of  the  loftiness,  depth,  and  power  which 
 that  discourse  e\aiices,  coidd  have  employed  only  one  mode  of 
 teaching.  A  mind  which  swayed  not  only  simple  and  prac- 
 tical souls,  but  also  so  profoundly  speculative  an  intellect  as 
 that  of  Paul,  could  not  but  have  scattered  the  elements  of  such 
 a  tendency  from  the  very  first.  We  cannot  but  infer,  from  the 
 irresistible  power  wliich  Chi-istianity  exerted  upon  minds  so 
 diversely  constituted  and  cultivated,  that  the  som'ces  of  that 
 power  lay  combined^  in  Him  whose  self-revelation  was  the 
 origin  of  Christianity  itself  Moreover,  the  other  Gospels  are 
 not  wanting  in  apparently  paradoxical  expressions  akin  to  the 
 
 '■  We  should  believe  this  even  if  we  were  to  admit  Wdsse's  view,  viz., 
 that  the  basis  of  this  Gospel  was  a  collection  of  the  \6yia  tov  Kvpiov  made 
 by  John,  and  afterward  wrought  by  another  hand  into  the  form  of  an  histo- 
 rical narrative.  But  Weisse's  critical  processes  teem  to  me  to  be  entirely 
 arbitrary.  John's  Gospel  is  altogether  (with  the  exception  of  a  few  pas- 
 sages, which  are  suspicious  both  on  external  and  internal  grounds)  a  work 
 ot  one  texture,  not  admitting  of  critical  decomposition.  In  Matthew,  not 
 only  internal  signs,  but  also  historical  traditions,  when  considered  wnthout 
 prejudice,  seem  to  distinguish  the  original  and  fundamental  composition 
 from  the  later  revision  of  the  work.  On  the  other  hand,  the  author  in 
 whom  we  first  find  the  tradition  referred  to  (Papias,  Euseb.  iii.  39),  makes 
 mention  of  no  such  thing  in  regard  to  John's  Gospel.  He  must  have  known 
 the  fact,  had  it  been  so,  living  as  he  did  in  Asia  INIinor.  Some  adduce 
 Papias's  silence  about  John's  Gospel  as  a  testimony  against  its  genuineness  ; 
 but  his  object,  most  likely,  was  to  give  information  in  regard  to  those 
 parts  of  the  narrative  whose  origin  was  not  so  well  kno-mi  in  that  part  of  the 
 coxmtry ;  whereas  John's  Gospel  was  fresh  in  every  one's  memory  there. 
 
 i2 
 
116  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 peculiar  tone  of  John's  Gospel,  e.  g.,  "  Let  tlic  dead  bury  iJteir 
 deadr^^  Nor  will  an  attentive  observer  find  in  John  alone 
 expressions  of  Christ  intended  to  increase,  instead  of  to  remove, 
 the  offence  which  carnal  minds  took  at  his  doctrine.  We 
 repeat  again,  that  the  words  and  acts  of  the  time  Christ  coidd 
 not  have  been  free  from  paradoxes;  and  from  this,  indeed,  it 
 may  have  been  that  the  Pharisees  were  led  to  report  that  he 
 had  lost  his  senses. 
 
 Still,  it  is  true,  that  such  passages  are  given  by  John  much 
 more  abimdautly  than  the  other  Evangelists.  But  there  is 
 nothing  in  liis  Gospel  purely  metaphysical  or  luipractical ;  none 
 of  the  spirit  of  the  Alexandrian- Jewish  theology  ;  but  every- 
 where a  direct  bearing  upon  the  inner  life,  the  Divine  commu- 
 nion which  Christ  came  to  establish.  Its  form  would  have 
 ])een  altogether  different  had  it  been  composed,  as  some  .suppose, 
 in  the  second  century,  to  support  the  Alexandrian  doctrine  of 
 the  Logos,  as  will  be  plain  to  any  one  who  takes  the  trouble  to 
 compare  it  with  the  writings  of  that  age  that  liave  come  down 
 to  us.  The  discour.ses  given  in  the  first  tliree  Gospels,  mostly 
 composed  of  separate  maxims,  precepts,  and  parables,  all  in  the 
 popular  forms  of  speech,  were  better  fitted  to  be  handed  down 
 by  tradition  than  the  more  profound  discus.sions  which  have 
 been  recorded  by  the  beloved  disciple  who  hung  with  fond 
 affection  upon  the  Hps  of  Jesus,  treasured  Ids  revelations  in  a 
 congenial  mind,  and  poured  them  forth  to  fill  up  the  gaps  of  the 
 popular  naixative.  And  although  it  is  time  that  the  image  of 
 Christ  given  to  us  in  this  Gospel  is  the  reflection  of  Christ's 
 impression  upon  John's  peculiar  mind  and  feelings,  it  is  to  be 
 remembered  that  these  veiy  peculiarities  were  obtained  by  his 
 intercoui'se  with,  and  vivid  apprehension  of,  Christ  himself. 
 His  susceptible  nature  appropriated  Christ's  Hfe,  and  incorpo- 
 rated it  with  his  own. 
 
 §  72. — The  Parable  of  the  Shepherd,  in  John,  compared  with  the  ParuUcs 
 ill,  the  oilier  Gospels. 
 
 Parables,  as  we  have  said,  are  peculiarly  fitted  for  oral 
 tradition.  We  need  not  wonder,  therefore,  that  they  are  more 
 abundant  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  which  were  composed  of 
 such  traditions,  than  in  John  ;  and,  moreover,  the  latter,  pre- 
 supposing tliem  to  be  known,  may  have  had,  in  his  peculiar 
 turn  of  mind,  and  in  the  object  for  wliich  he  Avi'ote  his  Gosjiel, 
 sufficient  reasons  for  omitting  them.     Yet  the  di.scourses  of 
 
 "  Had  this  expression  occurred  in  John,  it  might  have  been  cited  as  a 
 specimen  of  "Alexandrian  mysticism." 
 
PARABLES.  117 
 
 Christ,  as  given  by  him,  are  marked  by  the  very  peculiarity 
 that  gives  rise  to  the  use  of  parables,  \'iz.,  the  illustration  of 
 the  Spiiitual  and  the  Divine,  by  images  taken  from  common  life. 
 
 But  real  parables  are  not  entirely  wanting  in  John's  Gospel. 
 The  illustration  of  the  shepherd  and  the  sheep  (ch.  10)  has  all  the 
 essential  features  of  the  parable,  and  John  liimself  applies  that 
 name  to  it  (ver.  6).  Here,  as  m  other  parables,  we  find  a  reli- 
 gious truth  vividly  represented  by  a  similitude  taken  from  the 
 sphere  of  nature.  As,  for  instance,  in  the  parable  of  the  sower, 
 Christ  is  likened  to  the  husbandman,  the  Divine  word  to  the 
 seed,  and  the  various  degrees  of  susceptibility  for  the  word  in 
 men's  souls  to  the  variously  productive  soUs  in  v/hich  the  seed 
 is  planted  ;  so,  in  this  similitude,  the  relation  of  souls  to  Christ 
 is  compared  with  that  of  sheep  to  the  shepherd  ;  and  the  self- 
 seeking  teacher  who  offers  himself,  on  his  o^vn  authority  and 
 for  a  bad  purpose,  as  a  guide  of  men,  is  likened  to  a  thief  who 
 does  not  enter  the  sheepfold  by  the  door,  but  climbs  over  the 
 wall.  Strauss  has  remarked  that  tliis  parable  differs  from 
 those  of  the  Synoptical  Gospels  in  this,  that  it  does  not  give  a 
 histoi-ical  narrative,  with  beginning,  middle,  and  end,  of  a  fact 
 actually  once  taking  place,  but  makes  use  simply  of  what  is 
 commo)dy  seen  to  happen.  But  even  tliis  feature  cannot  be 
 said  to  be  essential  to  all  the  synoptical  parables,  but  only  to 
 those  in  which  a  specific  occui'rence  in  human  intercourse  is 
 assumed  to  illustrate  a  spiritual  truth  ;^  for  in  those,  on  the 
 other  hand,  which  are  not  taken  fr-om  social  and  civil  life,  but 
 from  the  sphere  of  man's  intercotu'se  with  nature,  the  one 
 especial  fact  given  is  nothing  but  a  specimen  of  what  commonly 
 takes  place  ;  and  the  form  of  the  statement  could  be  entirely 
 changed  in  this  respect,  without  at  all  affecting  its  substance. 
 Of  this  the  parable  of  the  sower  is  an  example,  and,  indeed,  those 
 of  the  leaven  and  the  mustard  seeo?  also.  So,  too,  John's  parable 
 of  the  shepherd  and  the  sheep  might  be  stated  in  the  form 
 of  a  fact  once  occurring,  without  losing  a  particle  of  its  indivi- 
 duality. 
 
 c.  Christ's  use  of  accommodation. 
 §  73. — Necessity  of  Accommodation. 
 
 We  must  mention  Chiist's  adaptation  of  his  instniction  to 
 the  capacity  of  his  hearers,  as  one  of  the  peculiar  features  of 
 
 *  Even  were  the  name  parables  (as  a  distinct  form  of  similitudes) 
 restricted  to  representations  of  this  class,  such  a  distinction  would  not 
 destroy  the  analogy  between  Christ's  discourses  in  John  and  tliose  in  the 
 other  Gospels,  founded  on  their  uss,  in  common,  of  the  same  mode  of 
 \'ividly  exhibiting  spiritual  truths, 
 
118  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Ills  mode  of  teaching.  Without  such  accommodation,  indeed, 
 there  can  be  no  such  thing  as  instruction.  The  teacher  imist 
 begin  upon  a  gi'oimd  common  to  his  pupUs,  "with  principles 
 presupposed  as  known  to  them,  in  order  to  extend  the  sphere 
 of  their  knowledge  to  further  tniths.  He  must  lower  himself 
 to  them,  in  order  to  raise  them  to  himself.  As  the  time  and 
 the  false  are  commingled  in  theii*  conceptions,  he  must  seize 
 upon  the  true  as  his  point  of  departure,  in.  order  to  disengage  it 
 from  the  encumbering  false.  So  to  the  child  the  man  becomes 
 a  child,  aud  explains  the  truth  in  a  form  adapted  to  its  age,  by 
 making  use  of  its  childish  conceptions  as  a  veU  for  it. 
 
 In  accordance  with  this  princiiDle,  every  revelation  of  God, 
 having  for  its  object  the  trainiiig  of  mankind /or  the  Divine  life, 
 (and  we  must  never  forget  that  this  was  the  sole  aim  of  Chris- 
 tianity, as  well  as  of  the  preparatory  institutions  which  pre- 
 ceded it),  has  made  use  of  this  law  of  accommodation,  in  order 
 to  present  the  Divine  to  the  consciousness  of  men  in  forms 
 adapted  to  their  respective  stand-points.  And  as  Clu'ist  by  no 
 means  intended,  as  we  have  before  remarked,  to  impart  a 
 complete  system  of  doctrine  as  a  mere  dead  tradition ;  but 
 rather  to  stimulate  men's  minds  to  a  living  appropriation  and 
 development  of  the  truth  which  he  revealed,  by  means  of  the 
 powers  vnth  which  God  had  endowed  them ;  it  was  the  more 
 necessary  for  him  to  adapt  his  instruction  to  the  caf>acities  of 
 those  who  heard  him.  His  teaching  by  parables,  in  which  the 
 familiar  affairs  of  every-day  life  were  made  the  veil  and  veliicle 
 of  unknown  and  higher  truths,  was  an  instance  of  accommo- 
 dation. The  pedagogic  principle  of  joining  the  old  with  the 
 new,  of  making  the  old  new  and  the  new  old,  and  of  deriving 
 the  new  from  the  old,  is  fully  illustrated  in  the  saying  of  Christ 
 before  referred  to,  viz.,  that  the  teacher,  instructed  in  the 
 kingdom  of  Heaven,  is  like  "  a  householder,  who  bringeth  forth 
 out  of  his  treasure  things  new  and  old.''  To  this  principle,  con- 
 stantly employed  by  Christ  in  his  teaching,  we  must  asciibe  the 
 extraordinary  influence  of  Christianity  upon  human  cidture 
 from  the  very  beginning.  But,  just  as  the  "form  of  a  servant  " 
 liindered  many  eyes  from  seeing  the  Son  of  God  in  the  Son  of 
 Man,  so  the  Di\'ine,  which  adajited  itself  to  human  infirmities 
 by  veiling  its  heavenly  grandeur,  was  often  concealed  by  the 
 very  veU  which  it  had  assumed. 
 
 §  74. — jyistinclion  between  Positive  (Material)  and  Negative  (Formal) 
 Accommodation  ;  the  latter  necessary,  the  former  inadmissible. 
 
 We  must  carefully  separate  false  from  true  accommodation; 
 
ACCOMMODATION.  119 
 
 tliere  is  a  broad  distinction  between  a  negative  accommodation 
 of  the  form  and  a  positive  one  of  the  substance.  The  teacher 
 ■who  adopts  the  latter  will  confirm  his  hearers  in  an  errox-,  in 
 order  to  gain  their  confidence^  and  to  infuse  into  their  minds, 
 even  by  means  of  error,  some  important  truth.  But  the  laws 
 of  morality  do  not  admit  that  "  the  end  sanctifies  the  means  j " 
 nor  can  the  establishment  of  eiTor  ever  be  a  just  means  of 
 propagating  truth.  And  it  is  as  impoHtic  as  it  is  immoral ; 
 for  error,  as  well  as  truth,  contains  within  itself  a  fructifying 
 germ,  and  no  one  can  predict  what  fruit  it  will  produce.  He 
 who  makes  use  of  it  renounces  at  once  the  character  of  a 
 teacher  of  truth ;  no  man  ^vill  trust  liira,  and  he  can  therefore 
 exert  a  spiritual  influence  upon  none.  There  is  no  criterion 
 for  distinguishing  the  truth  of  his  aims  from  the  falsehood  of 
 liis  means.  Such  an  accommodation  as  this  was  utterly 
 repugnant  to  the  holy  natiu-e  of  Him  who  called  himself  The 
 Truth;  and  there  is  no  trace  of  it  to  be  found  in  his 
 teachings. 
 
 It  is  quite  a  difiei'ent  thing  with  the  negative  and  formal 
 accommodation.  As  Christ's  sole  calhng  as  a  teacher  was  to 
 implant  the  fundamental  truths  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  the 
 human  consciousness,  he  could  not  stop  by  the  way  to  battle 
 with  errors  utterly  imconnected  with  his -object,  and  remote 
 from  the  interests  of  religion  and  morality.  Thus  he  made  use 
 of  common  terms  and  expressions  without  entering  into  an 
 examination  of  all  the  false  notions  that  might  be  attached  to 
 them.  He  called  diseases,  for  instance,  by  the  names  in  com- 
 mon use;  but  we  should  not  be  justified  in  concluding  that  he 
 thereby  stamped  with  his  Divine  authority  the  ordinary  notions 
 of  their  origin,  as  implied  in  the  names.  Nor  does  his  citation 
 of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  by  the  accustomed  titles 
 imply  any  sanction  on  his  paii;  of  the  prevalent  oijinions  in 
 regard  to  thefr  authors.  We  must  never  forget  that  his  words, 
 as  he  himself  has  told  iis,  are  6'pirit  and  Life;  and  that  no 
 scribe  of  the  old  Eabbinical  school,  no  slave  to  the  letter,  can 
 rightly  comprehend  and  apply  them. 
 
 Nor  did  he  make  use  of  positive  accommodation  in  seizing, 
 as  he  did,  upon  those  religious  conceptions  of  the  times  which 
 concealed  the  germ  of  truth  under  material  forms.  It  was  not 
 his  aim  to  preserve  the  mere  shell,  the  outward  form,  but  to 
 disengage  the  inner  truth  from  its  covering,  and  bring  it  out 
 into  free  and  piu'e  development.  This  he  coidd  only  eflect  by 
 causing  men  to  change  their  whole  carnal  mode  of  thinking,  of 
 
120  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 whicli  the  material  form  of  representation,  jiist  referred  to, 
 was  only  one  of  the  results.  These  remarks  apply  especially 
 to  the  use  which  he  made  of  the  common  outward  images  of 
 the  Messianic  world-dominion;  which  he  certainly  would  not 
 have  employed,  if  tliey  had  not  contained  a  substantive  truth 
 in  regard  to  the  development  of  the  kingdom  of  God  from  the 
 Old  Testament  stand-point,  y  To  attack  these  material  ideas 
 directly,  and  present  the  pure,  spiritual  truth  as  a  ready-made 
 system,  would  have  been  fiiiitless ;  it  was  only  from  the  deeper 
 gi'ound  in  \v]iio]i  the  eiToneous  tendencies  were  imbedded  that 
 they  coidd  be  successfully  overthro-wn.  And  Christ,  taking 
 the  trutli  that  lay  in  the  outwaixl  form  a.s  liis  point  of  depar- 
 tui'C,  attaclied  the  root  of  fdl  the  separate  errors;  the  seltish, 
 carnal  mind,  the  longing  for  worldly  rank  and  rewards;  and 
 implanted,  on  the  other  hand,  the  purely  spiritual  ideas  of  the 
 Divine  kingdom,  as  seeds  from  Avhich,  in  due  time,  a  free 
 reaction  against  the  material  tendency  would  spontaneously 
 arise. 
 
 Of  the  same  character  was  the  use  wliich  Chi'ist  made  of 
 figurative  analogies  like  that  in  Matt.  xii.  43,^^  et  seq.  In  such 
 cases  the  figurative  representation  was  employed,  like  the 
 parable,  to  exhibit  an  idea  vividly  to  the  minds  of  his  hearers, 
 while,  at  the  same  time,  its  connexion  was  such  that  he  could 
 not  possibly  be  misunderstood. 
 
 §  75. — Christ's  Application  of  Passages  from  the  Old  Testament. 
 
 What  we  have  said  in  regard  to  Christ's  habit  of  taking  u]) 
 a  concealed  truth  is  especially  applicable  to  his  use  of  quotations 
 from  the  Old  Testament,  which  enveloped,  as  it  were,  and 
 contained  the  germ  of  truths  which  he  was  fully  to  unfold  and 
 develop.  In  this  point  of  view,  he  derived,  from  the  Old  Tes- 
 tament, truths  which,  though  not  contained  in  the  letter  of 
 its  words,  were  involved  in  its  spu'it  and  fundamental  import. 
 The  higher  spirit,  which  appeared  in  its  unlimited  fulness  in 
 Christ,  was  predominant  in  the  Old  Testament ;  all  the  pre- 
 paratory revelations  of  that  spirit  had  Christ  for  their  aim ; 
 the  Theocratic  idea,  wliich  formed  the  central  point  both  of 
 the  Scri])tures  and  the  Jewish  nation,  had  found  no  fulfilment, 
 but  looked  to  the  futiu'e  for  its  realization.  Christ  was  per- 
 fectly justified,  therefore,  in  so  interpreting  the  Old  Testament 
 as  to  bring  out  clearlv  its  hidden  intimations  and  germs  of 
 
 ''  See  p.  88  .and  p.  80. 
 
 '  AVe  shall  have  occasion  to  speak  of  this  passage  more  fully  in  anothoi- 
 connection. 
 
THE  APOSTLES.  121 
 
 tmth,  and  to  unfold  from  the  covering  of  the  letter  the  pro- 
 founder  sense  of  the  Spirit.  We  shall  have  occasion  to  illustrate 
 tliis  more  fully  in  our  exposition  of  Christ's  didactic  and 
 polemic  tise  of  the  Old  Testament.  Paul's  interpretation  of 
 the  Old  Testament  was  of  precisely  the  same  character ;  with 
 this  difterence  only,  that  Christ  was  better  able  to  distinguish 
 the  difterent  stages  of  the  Theocratic  development,  pointing, 
 as  they  all  did,  to  liis  manifestation. 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 Christ's  choice  and  training  of  the  apostles. 
 
 §  7G. — Christ's  Relation  to  the  Twelve. — Significance  of  tlie  Number  Twelve. 
 — The  Name  Apostle. 
 
 We  have  before  remarked,  that  among  the  most  important 
 means  employed  by  Christ  in  foimding  the  kingdom  of  God 
 was  the  training  of  certain  organs ;  not  only  to  replace  his 
 personal  labours  as  a  teacher  (which  were  limited  to  so  very 
 brief  a  period),  but  also  to  propagate  a  tiiie  image  of  bis  person, 
 his  manifestation,  liis  spirit,  and  his  truth.  Here  arises  the 
 question,  whether  Christ  intentionally  selected  twelve  men  for 
 this  purpose,  and  took  the  individuals  thus  chosen  into  closer 
 commiuiion  with  himself,  or  whether  this  intimate  relationship 
 arose  out  of  a  gradual  separation  of  the  more  susceptible  dis- 
 ciples from  the  mass,  who  formed  by  degrees  a  narrower  and 
 more  permanent  circle  aboxit  his  person ;  whether,  in  a  word, 
 the  choice  of  the  twelve  was  made  once  for  all,  by  a  definite 
 purpose,  or  arose  simply  from  the  nature  of  the  case."  Some 
 adopt  the  latter  notion,  -with  a  view  to  answer  objections 
 against  the  wisdom  of  Christ's  selection ;  such,  for  instance,  as 
 that  he  chose  several  insignificant  men,  who  accomplished 
 nothing  of  importance,  and  omitted  others  who  were  afterward 
 signally  eminent  and  useful;  that  he  must  either  have  been 
 deceived  in  admitting  Jvidas  into  the  nxmiber,''  or  else  (what  is 
 entirely  out  of  keeping  vAth  his  character)  must  have  made 
 him  an  Apostle  with  a  full  consciousness  of  his  inevitable 
 destiny,  in  order  to  lead  him  on  to  liis  destruction.  It  is 
 urged,  moreovei',  against  the  probability  of  Christ  himself 
 having  conferred  the  name  of  Apostles  upon  these  men  espe- 
 cially, that  others  (e.  g.  Paul),  who  laboured  in  proclaiming  the 
 Gospel  at  a  later  period,  received  that  designation. 
 
 "  See  the  arguments  for  this  view  in  Schlcicrmacher  on  Luke,  p.  SS. 
 ''  Celsus  thought  to  disparage  Christ  by  telling  that  he  was  betrayed  by 
 oni  of  his  disciples.     (Orig.  c.  Ccls.  ii.  §  12.) 
 
122  THE  ilEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Tliis  question  would  be  at  once  decided,  if  we  could  consider 
 the  Sermon  on  ilie  Mount  as  an  ordination  discourse  for  the 
 Apostles ;  but  this  view,  as  we  shall  hereafter  show,  is 
 untenable.  But  there  are  passages  *=  wliich  speak  expressly  of 
 the  choosing  of  the  twelve ;  and,  even  without  attaching  undue 
 weight  to  these,  there  are  other  and  sufficient  grounds  for 
 believing  that  such  a  choice  was  actually  made.  Christ  him- 
 self tells  the  Apostles  (John  xv.  16)  that  they  had  not  chosen 
 him,  but  that  he  had  chosen  theyn,  as  his  own  peculiar  organs; 
 which  woiold  not  have  been  true  if  they  had  fii\st  separated,  of 
 their  own  accord,  from  the  rest  of  the  multitude,  and  chosen 
 him  for  their  Master  and  guide,  in  a  narrower  sense  than 
 others. 
 
 Nor  is  the  number  twelve  destitute  of  significance.  Without 
 seeking  any  sacred,  mystical  meaning  in  the  niunber,  we  can 
 well  see  in  it  a  reference  to  the  number  of  the  tribes  of  Israel. 
 The  particular,  Jewish  Theocracy  was  a  tj-pe  of  the  universal 
 and  eternal  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  Christ  first  designated  him- 
 self as  head  of  that  kingdom  in  the  Jewish  national  form. 
 The  twelve  were  to  lead  the  kingdom  as  his  organs.  <!  Their 
 superiority  to  all  others,  who  should  also  act  as  organs  of  the 
 Holy  Spirit  testifying  within  them  of  the  Redeemer  (the 
 common  caUing  of  all  believers),  consisted  in  this,  that  they 
 received  a  direct  and  personal  impression  of  the  words  and 
 works  of  Clirist,  and  could  thus  testify  of  what  they  had  seen 
 mid  /leard.  Tins  personal  testimony  of  eye-witnesses  is  ex- 
 pressly distinguished  by  Christ  (John  xv.  27)  from  the  objec- 
 tive testimony  of  the  Holy  Spu-it ;  which,  indeed,  animated 
 them,  but  could  also  bear  -^dtness  through  other  organs. 
 Hence,  when  one  of  the  twelve  was  lost,  the  Apostles  deemed 
 it  necessary  to  replace  him,  and  thus  fill  up  the  number  origi- 
 nally instituted  by  Cluist.'^ 
 
 The  more  general  application  of  the  name  Apostle  in  the 
 Apostolic  age  is  no  px'oof  that  Christ  did  not  oiiginally  use  it 
 in  the  narrower  sense.  The  Apostolic  mind  was  imder  no 
 such  painful  subserviency  to  the  letter  as  to  avoid  the  use  of 
 a  name  in  a  sense  suggested  by  the  name  itself,  simply  because 
 Christ  had  used  it  in  a  more  contracted  signification.  The 
 term  ('nroa-oXnt  ( ]V''?P  )  denoted  persons  sent  out  by  Christ 
 to  proclaim  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  it  was  quite  natural, 
 
 •^  Luke  vi.  13  ;  Mark  iii.  13,  14. 
 
 •■  Matt.  xix.  28  ;  Luke  xxii.  30.  Yc  also  shall  sit  itpon  twelve  iJtroThes, 
 jud'jing  the  twelve  tribes  of  Im-acl.  '  Acts  i.  21. 
 
THE  APOSTLES.  123 
 
 as  all  who  preached  the  Gospel  were  considered  as  sent  out 
 by  him,  that  all  who  laboured  in  proclaiming  it  in  a  wide 
 sphere  should  receive  the  same  designation,  f  Although  Paul 
 used  the  term  in  its  wider  meaning,  he  yet  considered  the 
 narrower  sense  to  be  the  oi'iginal  one,s  and  justified  his  appU- 
 cation  of  the  latter  to  himself  only  on  the  ground  of  the  di- 
 rect and  immediate  call  which  he  had  received  from  Christ.'* 
 
 §  77. — Choice  of  the  Apostles. — Of  Judas  Iscariot. 
 There  are  a  few  examples  on  record  of  Chi-ist's  drawing  and 
 attaching  to  himself  disciples  who  exhibited  to  his  piercing  eye 
 the  quaUties  necessaiy  for  his  service.  Probably  this  procedure 
 was  the  same  in  the  cases  not  recorded.  The  Avisdom  of  Christ, 
 moreover,  leads  us  to  conclude  that  the  cultivation  of  these 
 agents,  on  whose  fitness  so  much  depended,  was  an  object  of 
 his  special  care  and  attention.  Although  we  have  not  sufll- 
 cient  information  to  decide,  in  the  case  of  each  Apostle,  why 
 he  especially  was  admitted  into  the  nimiber  of  the  twelve, 
 yet  such  examples  as  Peter  and  John,  men  of  most  stnking 
 character,  who  show  us  how  the  most  marked  features  of 
 human  nature  receive  and  tinge  Christianity,  illustrate  the 
 profound  wisdom  of  Christ,  and  the  penetrating  glance  with 
 which  he  could  detect  the  concealed  plant  in  the  insignificant 
 germ.  Yet  we  are  not  bound,  in  order  to  vindicate  Christ's 
 wisdom,  to  conclude  that  all  the  Apostles  were  alike  men  of 
 mark,  alike  capable  of  great  achievements.  It  was  enough 
 for  the  fulfilment  of  their  calling  that  they  loved  him  truly, 
 that  they  followed  him  with  chUd-like  confidence,  and  gave 
 themselves  wholly  up  to  the  guidance  of  his  Spirit ;  for  thus 
 they  would  be  enabled  to  testify  of  liim,  and  to  exhibit  his 
 image  in  truth  and  purity.  It  was  enough  that  among  the 
 number  there  were  a  few  men  of  pre-eminently  powerfid  cha- 
 racter, on  whom  the  rest  might  lean  for  support.  It  sufficed, 
 nay,  it  was  even  advantageous,  for  the  development  of  the 
 Church,  that  the  Apostles,  as  a  whole,  left  their  accounts  of 
 the  history  of  Christ  tvithout  the  peculiar  stamp  of  indiAddual 
 character,  since  there  was  only  one  John  among  them  capable 
 of  giving  a  vivid  image  of  the  life  of  the  Savioiu*  in  har- 
 monious imity.  And  it  is,  therefore,  not  at  all  wondei-ful 
 that  men  appeared  in  the  later  period  of  the  Apostolic  Church 
 
 '  The  questions  whether  Christ  chose  twelve  men  as  his  special  organs, 
 and  whether  he  himself  gave  them  the  name  Apostles,  are  entirely  distinct. 
 There  is  no  good  reason  to  doubt  the  latter. 
 
 K  1  Cor.  XV.  7.  ''1  Cor.  ix.  1 ;  xv.  9. 
 
124  THE  MEAXS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 who   accomplished   gi'eater    tilings    than    even   some    of  the 
 Apostles. 
 
 As  for  Judas  Iscaiiot,  it  by  no  means  folloAvs  from  the  pas- 
 sages wliich  say  that  Christ  knew  him  from  the  beginning,  that 
 he  knew  him  as  an  enemy  and  a  traitor ;  nor  does  the  awfiil 
 contrast  between  his  Apostolic  calling  and  his  final  fate  show 
 that  Christ  was  wholly  deceived  in  him.  Judas  may  have 
 at  first  embraced  the  proclamation  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
 with  ardent  feelings,  although  wdth  expectations  of  a  selfish 
 and  worldly  stamp ;  which,  indeed,  was  the  case  with  others 
 of  the  Apostles.  He  may  have  loved  Christ  sincerely  so  long- 
 as  he  hoped  to  find  in  him  the  fulfilment  of  his  carnal  desires. 
 Christ  may  have  seen  in  liim  capacities  which,  animated  by 
 pure  intentions,  might  have  made  liim  a  particularly  useful 
 instrument  in  spjreading  the  kingdom  of  God.  At  the  same 
 time,  he  doubtless  perceived  in  him,  as  in  the  rest  of  the 
 Apostles,  the  impure  influence  of  the  worldly  and  selfish  ele- 
 ment, yet  he  may  have  hoped  (to  do  for  him  what  he  cer- 
 tainly did  for  the  others,  "saz.)  to  remove  it  by  the  enlight- 
 ening and  purifying  effects  of  his  personal  intercourse ;  a 
 residt,  however,  which  we  freely  admit  depended  upon  the 
 /I'ce  self-determination  of  Judas,  and  could,  therefore,  be  unerr- 
 ingly knoAvn  to  none  but  the  Omniscient.  And  even  when 
 Judas,  deceived  in  his  carnal  and  selfish  hopes,  felt  his  afiec- 
 tion  for  Christ  passing  into  hatred,  the  love  of  the  Savioui-, 
 hoping  all  things,  though  he  saw  the  rising  root  of  evil,  may 
 have  induced  hhn  to  strive  the  more  earnestly  to  attract  the 
 wanderer  to  himself,  in  order  to  save  him  from  impending  iiiiu.^ 
 
 §  78. — The  Apostles  Uneducated  Men. 
 It  may  appear  strange  that  Christ  shoidd  have  selected, 
 as  his  chosen  organs,  men  so  untaught  and  unsuscej)tible  iii 
 Dixdne  tlungs,  and  should  have  laboured,  in  opposition  to  their 
 worldly  tendencies,  to  fit  them  for  their  office ;  especially  when 
 men  of  learned  cidtivation  in  Jewish  theologj'  were  at  hand, 
 more  than  one  of  whom  had  attached  themselves  sincerely 
 to  him.  liut  we  are  justified  in  presupposing  that  he  acted 
 thus  according  to  a  .special  decision  of  his  own  ^visdom,  as 
 he  himself  testifies  (Matt.  xi.  25)  :  '*/  tluink  tliee,  0  Fatlier, 
 because  thou  hast  hid  these  things  from  tJie  ii-ise  and  jnnj.deni, 
 and  hast  revealed  tliem  unto  babes."  Precisel}'  because  these 
 men,  destitute  of  all  higher  learning,  attached  themselves  to 
 
 '  See,  hereafter,  more  on  the  character  and  fate  of  Judas, 
 
THE  APOSTLES.  125 
 
 him  like  children,  and  obeyed  even  his  slightest  hints,  were 
 they  heat  fitted  to  receive  liis  Spuit  with  child-hke  devotion 
 and  confidence,  and  to  propagate  the  revelations  which  he 
 made  to  them.  Everything  in  them  was  to  be  the  growth 
 of  the  new  creation  tkrough  Christ's  Spiiit  ;  and  men  who 
 had  received  a  complete  culture  elsewhere  would  have  been 
 ni  adapted  for  this.  They  were  trammelled,  it  is  time,  by  their 
 caraal  conceptions  of  Divine  things ;  but  tlais  was  counter- 
 balanced by  their  anxiety  to  learn,  and  their  cliild-like  sub- 
 mission to  Christ  as  Master  and  guide  ;  while,  on  the  other 
 hand,  insimnountable  obstacles  would  have  been  presented  in. 
 the  want  of  such  submission — in  the  stubborn  adherence  to 
 preconceived  views  of  men  who  had  been  trained  and  culti- 
 vated before.  Moreover,  this  reverential  submission  to  Christ 
 on  the  part  of  the  disciples,  in  their  daily  intercoi;rse  -with 
 him,  tended  surely  and  constantly  to  refine  and  spiritualize 
 their  mode  of  thinking.  His  image,  received  into  their  inner 
 life,  exeited  a  steady  and  ovei-i-uliug  influence.  In  the  mode 
 in  which  the  new  revelations  were  embraced  and  develojDed, 
 we  recognize  the  general  law,  according  to  which  truths  be- 
 yond the  scope  of  human  reason  are  imparted  to  it  from 
 higher  sources,  to  be  afterward  appropriated  and  elaborated  as 
 its  own.  They  were  first  received  and  unfolded  by  men  who 
 had  no  previous  education  to  enable  them  to  work  out  inde- 
 pendently that  wliich  was  given  them  ;  and  only  at  a  later 
 period  was  a  Paul  added  to  the  Apostles — a  man  capable, 
 from  his  systematic  mental  cultivation,  of  elaborating  and 
 unfolding,  by  liis  own  power  of  thought,  yet  under  the  guid- 
 ance of  the  same  Spirit  of  Christ,  the  material  of  Di\'ine  revela- 
 tion that  was  bestowed  upon  him.  The  fact,  too,  that  a  people 
 like  the  Jews,  and  not  the  Greeks,  were  fii'st  the  chosen  organ 
 for  the  propagation  of  revealed  religion,  is  an  illustration  of  the 
 same  law.  Here  we  find  the  source  of  the  ever-renewed 
 struggle  between  Revelation,  which  demands  an  humble  recep- 
 tion of  its  gifts,  and  Reason,  which  Avill  recognize  nothing  that 
 is  not  wrought  out,  or,  at  leavst,  remodelled,  in  its  own  labo- 
 ratory. 
 
 Still  Christ  could  not  have  deemed  the  j^eriod  of  two  or 
 three  years  sufficient  to  prepare  these  untrained  disciples, 
 according  to  liis  mind,  for  teachers  of  men.  Nor  could  he  have 
 foretold,  with  such  confidence,  the  success  of  such  men  in  pro- 
 pagating his  truth  for  the  salvation  and  training  of  men,  for  ' 
 the  victorious  foimding  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  all  ages, 
 
126  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 had  he  not  been  conscious  of  powers  higher  than  had  been 
 granted  to  any  other  teacher  among  men,  which  justified  him 
 in  making  such  predictions. 
 
 §  79. — Two  Stages  in  tJie  Dependence  of  the  Apostles  vpon  C/trist. 
 
 From  the  very  beginning  the  Apostles  stood  to  Chi-Lst  in  a 
 relation  of  complete  dependence  and  submission,  but  we  must 
 distinguish  in  this  two  different  foi-ms  and  periods.  In  the 
 first,  their  dependence  was  more  outward  and  unconscious  ;  in 
 the  last,  it  was  more  inward,  and  thoroughly  understood  by 
 themselves.  From  the  beginning,  they  gave  themselves  up, 
 ■with  reverent  confidence,  to  the  will  of  Christ  as  their  supreme 
 law,  inspu-ed  by  the  conviction  that  what  he  commanded  was 
 right ;  yet,  without  a  clear  apprehension  either  of  his  mil  or 
 "word,  and  ■ndthout  the  ability  to  harmonize  their  will  vdih  his 
 by  free  consciousness  and  self-determination.  But,  during  this 
 stage  of  outward  dependence,  they  were  to  be  trained  to 
 apprehend  his  -nail  (or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  the  will  of  God 
 revealed  and  fidfiUed  by  him)  ;  to  incorporate  it  ■s\'ith  thcii"  own 
 spiiitual  tendencies  ;  in  a  word,  to  make  it  their  own.  Christ 
 himself  pointed  out  this  two-fold  relation,  when  he  said  to  them, 
 in  "saew  of  his  approaching  death,  in  reference  to  their  da^Tiing 
 consciousness  of  the  necessity  of  his  suffering  in  order  to  esta- 
 blish the  Divine  kingdom  :  '^^  Henceforth  I  caU  you  not  sei'vants: 
 for  tite  servant  hnoweth  not  ivhat  his  Lord  doeth:  hut  I  have 
 called  you  friends  ;  for  all  things  that  I  liave  heard  of  my  Father 
 I  luive  made  knoion  unto  you.  Ye  Juive  not  chosen  me,  but  I  have 
 chosen  you,  and  ordained  you,  that  ye  slwtdd  go  and  bring  forth 
 fruit,  and  tJiat  your  fruit  should  remain ;  that  whatsoever  ye  shall 
 ask  of  tlie  Fatlier  in  my  name,  he  may  give  it  you"i  The  senant 
 follows  the  wUl  of  liis  master  not  as  his  o^vn,  but  anotLer's, 
 without  imderstanding  its  aim  ;  hut  friendship  is  a  harmony  of. 
 souls  and  sympathy  of  intentions.  The  ultimate  aim  of  all 
 Christ's  training  of  the  Apo.stles  was  to  raise  them  from  the 
 fij'st  stand-point  to  the  second. 
 
 §  SO. — Christ's  peculiar  Method  ofiraining  the  Apostles. 
 
 The  words  of  Christ  recorded  in  Luke  v.  33,  Matt.  ix.  14,"^ 
 throw  a  distinct  light  upon  his  peculiar  method  of  training  the 
 Apostles.      When   reproached  because  he   imposed  no  strict 
 
 i  John  XV.  15,  Ifi.     f>o  V.  14,   "  Ye  arc  my  friends,  if  yc  do  whatsoever  I 
 command  you."     Their  efforta  to  perform  his  will  perfectly  proved  that 
 •  they  had  made  it  their  own. 
 
 ''  More  on  these  passages  hereafter,  in  their  proper  connection  in  the 
 narrative. 
 
THE  CHURCH.  127 
 
 spii-itual  discipline,  no  fasting  or  outward  exercises  upon  lus 
 disciples,  but  suffered  them  to  mingle  in  society  freely,  like 
 other  men,  he  justified  his  com'se  by  stating  (in  eflfect),  that 
 '•  fasting,  then  imposed  upon  them,  would  have  been  an  imua- 
 tm-al  and  foreign  disturbance  of  the  festal  joy  of  their  inter- 
 course with  him,  the  object  of  all  their  longings.  But  when 
 the  sorrow  of  separation  should  foUow  the  houi-s  of  joy,  fasting- 
 would  be  in  harmony  both  with  their  inward  feelings  and  their 
 outward  life.  As  no  good  could  come  of  patching  old  gannents 
 with  new  cloth,  or  putting  new  wine  into  old  skins,  so  it  was 
 not  his  purpose  to  impose  the  exercises  of  spii-itual  life,  fasting, 
 and  the  like,  by  an  outward  law,  upon  his  yet  vmtrained  disci- 
 ples, but  rathei',  by  a  gradual  change  of  their  whole  inward 
 nature,  to  make  them  vessels  fit  for  the  indwelling  of  the 
 higher  Hfe.  Wlien  they  had  become  such,  all  the  essential 
 manifestations  of  that  indwelling  life  would  spontaneously 
 reveal  themselves ;  no  outward  command  would  then  be 
 needed." 
 
 Here  we  see  the  principle  on  which  Christ  acted  in  the 
 intellectiml,  as  well  as  in  the  moral  and  religious  training  of  the 
 Apostles.  As  he  would  not  lay  external  restraints,  by  the 
 letter  of  outward  laws,  upon  natures  as  yet  undisciplined,  so  it 
 was  not  his  purpose  to  impart  the  dead-letter  of  a  ready-made 
 and  fragmentaiy  knowledge  to  minds  whose  worldly  modes  of 
 thought  di.sabled  them  from  apprehending  it.  He  aimed  rather 
 to  implant  the  germ,  to  give  the  initial  impulse  of  a  total 
 intellectual  renovation,  by  which  men  might  be  enabled  to 
 grasp,  with  a  new  spirit,  the  new  truths  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God.  In  every  relation  he  determined  not  to  "  patch  the  old 
 garment,  or  put  new  wine  into  old  bottles."  And  this  principle, 
 thus  fully  illustrated  by  Christ's  training  of  his  Apostles,  is,  in 
 fact,  the  universal  law  of  growth  in  the  genuine  Christian 
 life. 
 
 CHAPTER  IV. 
 
 THE  CHURCH  A3fD  BAPTISM. 
 §  81. — Pounding  of  the  Church. — Its  Objects. 
 Closely  connected  with  the  questions  just  discussed  is  that 
 of  t\iQ  fovmding  of  the  Church  ;  for  the  Apostles  were  the  organs 
 through  whom  the  religious  community  which  originated  in 
 Christ  Avas  to  bo  handed  down  to  after  ages,  the  connecting 
 links  that  were  to  imite  it  with  its  foimder.  A  clear  concep- 
 tion of  the  idea  of  the  Church,  in  comparison  with  what  we 
 
128  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 have  said  of  the  plan  of  Christ,  wUl  make  it  ob\'ious  that  he 
 intended  to  estahlish  the  Church,  and  lumself  laid  its  founda- 
 tion. 
 
 By  the  Church  we  understand  a  union  of  men  ai*ismg  from 
 the  fellowsliip  (communion)  of  religious  life  ;  a  union  essentially 
 independent  of,  and  different  from,  all  other  forms  of  himian 
 a.osociation.  It  was  a  fundamental  element  of  the  formation  of 
 this  union,  that  religion  was  no  longer  to  be  inseparably  bound 
 up,  either  as  prmcipal  or  subordinate,  with  the  political  and 
 national  relations,  of  men,  but  that  it  should  develop  itself,  by 
 its  own  inherent  energy,  as  a  principle  of  cultui-e  and  union ; 
 superior,  in  its  very  essence,  to  all  human  powers.  This  in- 
 volved both  the  power  and  the  duty  to  create  an  independent 
 community,  and  that  conununity  is  the  Church. 
 
 And  Chiistianity  is  j^roved  to  be  the  aim  and  object  of  all 
 human  progress,  not  only  by  the  cra\Tng  for  redemption,  which 
 iio  man  can  deny,  in  human  nature,  but  also  by  the  very  idea 
 of  such  a  community  as  the  Chm-ch,  which  overthrows  all 
 natural  barriers,  and  binds  mankind  together  by  a  union 
 founded  on  the  common  alliance  of  theu'  nature  to  God.  The 
 spuit  of  humanity,  feeling  itself  confined  by  the  limits  wliich 
 the  opposing  interests  of  nations  impose  upon  it,  demands  a 
 communion  that  shall  overleap  these  bankers,  and  lay  its 
 foundations  only  in  the  consciousness,  common  to  all  men,  of 
 their  relation  to  the  Highest — a  relation  transcending  the 
 world  and  nature.  Apart  from  Christianity,  indeed,  we  could 
 not  conceive  the  idea  of  such  a  communion ;  but  now  that 
 Christianity  has  freed  Reason  from  the  old-world  bonds  that 
 hindei'ed  its  development,  and  unfolded  for  it  a  higher  self- 
 consciousness,  there  can  be  no  science  of  human  nature  that 
 does  not  reckon  this  communion  as  the  aim  of  human  progress, 
 that  does  not  a.ssign  to  the  Church  its  proper  place  in  the 
 universal  moral  organism  of  humanity.  Schleiermacuer  has 
 done  this  in  his  "  Pliilosophical  Etliics,"  and  has  thus  found,  in 
 the  Church,  the  point  of  departure  for  Christian  moi-als.  And 
 so  every  system  of  ethics  must  do  which  is  not  willing  to  iall 
 in  the  rear  of  human  ]irogress,  and  to  be  giulty  of  cruelly 
 mutilating  the  nature  of  man.  Nay,  the  minds  of  the  .sages 
 who  sought  to  break  through  the  limits  of  the  ancient  world 
 yearned  for  this  idea  long  before  its  realization  in  Christianity. 
 Zeno,'  the  founder  of  the  Stoa,  })roclaimed  it  as  the  liighest  of 
 hiuuan  aims,  that  "  men  should  not  be  sepai'ated  by  cities, 
 '  In  his  work,  Tripi  TroXirtiaf. 
 
THE  CHURCH.  129 
 
 states,  and  laws,  but  that  all  shoultl  lie  considered  fellow- 
 citizens,  and  partakers  of  one  Hfe,  and  that  the  whole  world, 
 like  a  ignited  flock,  shoidd  be  governed  by  one  common  law.""* 
 Plutarch,  who  quotes  these  Avords,  was  probably  right  in  saying 
 that  "  Zeno  had  some  phantom  of  a  dream  before  liim  when  he 
 wrote  ;""*  for  how  could  an  idea,  so  far  transcending  the  spirit 
 of  antiquity,  be  realized  in  its  sphei'e  1  Such  a  communion 
 ctoidd  only  be  brought  about,  at  that  time,  lay  the  destiiictiou 
 of  the  sepai'ate  organization  of  nations,  to  the  detiiment  of 
 their  natural  and  individual  progress  ;  and  the  veiy  event  in 
 wliich  Plutarcli  thought  he  saw  its  fulfilment,  ^dz.,  the  com- 
 mingling of  the  nations  hj  Alexandei-'s°  conquests,  can-ied  the 
 germ  of  self-desti-uction  Avithin  it.  A  total  revolution  of  the 
 ancient  world  necessarily  had  to  precede  the  realizing  of  this 
 idea.  Mankind  had  to  be  freed  from  the  power  of  sin,  and  the 
 disjunctive  and  re}juLsive  agency  of  sin,  before  there  could  l>e 
 any  place  for  tliis  Divine  commmiion  of  life,  which  overleaps, 
 without  destroying,  tlie  natxu-al  divisions  of  nations.  And  this 
 is  the  I'ealization  of  the  idea  of  the  Church. 
 
 Now  as  this  revolution  could  only  be  brought  about  by  Him 
 who  Avas  at  once  Son  of  God  and  Son  of  Man,  so  He,  Avhen  he 
 recognized  Idmself  as  the  Sav'iour  and  King  bestowed  upon 
 mankind,  was  fully  conscious,  also,  of  his  poAver  to  realize  this 
 idea.  It  is  clear,  irom  Avhat  Ave  haA-e  said  of  the  Plan  of  Christ, 
 that  the  results  which  Avere  to  floAV  in  after-ages  from  the 
 indAveUing  poAver  of  the  Woi'd  })i-oclaimed  and  sent  forth  by 
 liim  to  regenerate  and  unite  mankind,  lay  fully  rcA'ealed  before 
 his  all-sui-veying  glance.  He  kneAv  that  it  contained  the 
 elements  of  a  spiritual  community  that  Avould  burst  asimder 
 the  coniiniug  forms  of  the  JeAvish  Theocracy,  and  take  all  man- 
 kind into  its  Avide  embrace. 
 
 §  82. — Name  of  (Jtc  Church. — Its  Form  traced  back  to  Christ  himself. 
 
 But  even  if  it  be  admitted  that  Christ  intended  to  found  a 
 Church,  the  further  (but  less  important)  question  arises,  Avhether 
 the  name,  iKicXrfirin,  Avhich  has  been  stamped  u])on  it,  had  its 
 origin  with  himself     There  is  no  gi'ound  for  doubting  even 
 
 ■"  "Ivn  [It]  Kara  iruXug,  /iijCt  Kara  vlifiovc  oiKiofiev,  icioig  iV-aorroi 
 HiupKtlxivot  ciKaioic,  aWa  T^avrac  di>9pw7rovg  i/ywyntSa  vrj^ioTctg  Kal 
 iroXtrof,  tic  t"'  /3ioc  y  Kut  Koa^iog  iiairtp  ayeXijC  (Tvvvujjlov  vofitii  Koij'<iJ 
 cvvTpitpofiivt]^.     Plut.  in  Alex.  i.  c.  vi. 
 
 "  'lovTO  Zl)vu}v  jitv  typa\l/ip  uainp  tjvap  ij  (it'aiXovtiii'O/ttiac  ^tXeco^ou 
 Kai  noXiTtiac  avaTviTioadfitvoc. 
 
 "  To  whom  he  applies  what  can  only  be  said  of  Clirist :  kvivv^  i'ikiiv 
 ^ivOlif  dpi.io<TTt)g  Kai  ^ia\\aKTri<;  riov  vXwv  vou-iCiov, 
 
 K 
 
130  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 this  (as  some  have  done),  and  thereby  casting  suspicion  upon 
 passages  like  Matt.  xvi.  18,  in  which  he  is  reported  to  have 
 used  the  tenn.  The  name  corresponds  to  the  Hebrew  "TR, 
 in  comiexiou  with  '^?<1^:,  ^)p],  c'r*''!??,  which  expressed  the  old 
 Theocratic  national  community ;  and  so  was  transferred  to 
 the  new  congi-egation  of  God,  which  was  to  emerge  from  the 
 ancient  coveiing.  This  commimion  in  itself,  indeed,  is 
 nothing  but  the  form  in  which  Clirist  has  established  the 
 kingdom  of  God  upon  earth,  and  in  which  he  intends  it  shall 
 develop  itself  until  its  full  consummation. 
 
 But  it  must  not,  therefore,  be  concluded  that  this  community 
 was  ever  to  realize  itself  in  the  form  of  a  State.^  The  name, 
 borrowed  from  an  earthly  kingdom,  is,  on  one  side,  entkely 
 symbolical,  and  was  immediately  taken  from  the  form  in  which 
 the  idea  of  the  Divine  commimity  was  represented  by  the 
 Je^vish  nation.  But  the  essential  difference  between  the 
 Jewish  and  the  Christian  stand-point  consists  in  this,  that  iii 
 the  latter  the  political  element  is  wholly  discai-ded.  Excluding 
 all  other  relations  that  belong  to  the  essence  of  a  state,  the 
 only  real  feature  expressed  by  the  symbolical  name  is  the 
 monarchical  principle  ;  and  that,  too,  in  a  sense  that  cannot  be 
 applied  to  any  temporal  state,  ^vithout  subverting  its  organism, 
 and  making  it  a  horde  of  slaves  under  the  arbitrary  will  of  a 
 despot.  The  fimdamental  principle  of  the  Christian  community 
 is,  that  there  shall  be  no  other  subordination  than  that  of  its 
 members  to  God  and  Christ,  and  that  t/iis  shall  be  absolute  ; 
 while,  in  regard  to  each  other,  they  are  to  be  upon  the  footing 
 of  complete  equalit3^  Christ  himself  drew  a  striking  contrast 
 between  hLs  own  community  and  all  political  organizations  in 
 this  respect.*! 
 
 But  even,  though  it  be  admitted  that  Christ  intended  ta 
 found  a  visible  Chm-ch,  and  gave  the  fii-st  impulse  to  a  move- 
 ment that  was  afterward  to  propagate  itself,  it  does  not  neces- 
 sarily follow  that  he  himself  directly  established  such  a  separate 
 community,  and  made  the  arrangements  and  preparations  that 
 naturally  belonged  to  it. 
 
 It  may  be  said  that  the  outward  fabric  of  tlic  visible  Church 
 could  not  be  erected  until  that  which  constituted  its  tnie 
 essence,  viz.,  the  life  of  the  invisible  Church,  which  as  yet  lay 
 only  in  the  germ,  should  be  more  fully  unfolded — until  the 
 
 f  See  this  inference  drawn  by  Rothc,  in  his  work  "  Ueber  die  Anfange 
 der  Christlichen  Kirche  und  ihrer  Verfassung,"  p.  89. 
 1  Luke  xxii.  25,  26. 
 
THE  CHURCH.  131 
 
 Mglier  life  had  obtained  in  the  disciples  a  more  substantial  and 
 self-dependent  form,  a  state  of  things  presupposed  in  a  commu- 
 nity whose  manifold  members  were  reciprocally  to  affect  each 
 other.  So,  too,  it  may  be  said,''  that  one  of  the  specific  differ- 
 ences between  Christ  and  other  founders  of  religions  was,  that, 
 as  he  did  not  impart  a  complete  and  sharply-defined  system  of 
 doctrines  to  liis  Apostles,  but  left  it  to  their  human  activity, 
 imder  the  guidance  of  the  Di^dne  Spirit,  to  fonn  such  a  system 
 from  the  elements  which  he  bestowed,^  so,  also,  he  founded  no 
 outwardly  complete  and  accurately  defined  religious  commu- 
 nity, with  a  fiked  form  of  government,  usages,  and  rules  of 
 woi-ship ;  but,  after  implanting  the  Divine  germ  of  this  com- 
 munity, left  it  also  to  human  agency,  guided  by  the  same  Holy 
 Spirit,  to  develop  the  foi^ms  which  it  should  assume  under  the 
 varying  relations  of  human  society.  According  to  this  view, 
 only  the  fructifying  elements  were  given  by  Clirist,  and  all  the 
 rest  was  left  to  human  development  proper,  animated  by  the 
 Divine  principle  of  life. 
 
 According  to  this  view,  the  only  defined  community  which 
 Clirist  established  was  that  of  the  Apostles,  who,  as  bearers 
 and  organs  of  his  Spirit,  formed  the  sole  prototype  of  the 
 Church,  which  only  grew  up  at  a  later  period  from  the  seed 
 which  Christ  had  so^^ti.  He  did  not  %vish  to  establish  an 
 exclusive  school  or  sect,  but  to  draw  all  men  to  himself.  lu 
 this  view,  further,  it  would  be  necessary  to  suppose  that  he 
 had,  at  that  time,  fixed  no  rite  of  initiation  into  his  narrower 
 feUoAvship  ;  that  such  passages  as  John  iii.  22;  Matt,  xxviii.  19, 
 arose  only  from  the  attempts  of  a  later  period  to  ascribe  the 
 origin  of  baptism  directly  to  Christ ;  and  that  baptism,  with 
 confession  of  the  name  of  Christ,  was  introduced  by  the  Apos- 
 tles subsequently''  to  the  formation  of  a  separate  Christian 
 congregation,  as  a  sign  of  membei-sliip  therein.  And  the  high 
 estimate  ^*  which  was  put  upon  the  rite  may  be  ascribed,  not 
 
 '  As  is  asserted  by  Wcissc  (p.  3S7,  seq.  ;  406,  seq.),  whose  views  and 
 proofs  we  shall  examine  in  another  place. 
 
 '  It.  is  not  without  good  ground,  therefore,  that  we  do  not  devote  a 
 separate  section  of  this  work  to  a  systematic  exposition  of  the  doctrines  of 
 Christ,  but  content  ourselves,  both  here  and  in  the  Apostolic  age,  with 
 pointing  out,  in  his  words,  the  fundamental  principles  which  were  after- 
 ward expanded  by  the  Apostles. 
 
 '  Weisse  thinks  that  the  first  trace  of  the  institution  is  to  be  found  in 
 Acts  ii.  38. 
 
 "  The  ecclesiastical  import  of  baptism  would  remain  untouched,  even  if 
 it  were  granted  that  the  symbol  was  first  instituted  by  the  Apostles  at  the 
 time  of  the  bestowing  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  which  the  rite  symbolized  ;  for, 
 
 k2 
 
132  THE  MEAXS  OF  CKRIST. 
 
 to  it*  having  been  instituted  by  Christ,  but  to  the  extraor- 
 dinarv  phenomena  of  inspiration  which  were  wont  to  attend  it. 
 
 We  agree  fully  with  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  %iew 
 just  recited.  Chiist  only  prepared  tlie  way  for  the  foundation 
 of  the  Church,  according  to  its  inner  essence  and  its  outwai'd 
 form  ]  as  he  gave  no  complete  doctiinal  system,  so  he  erected 
 no  Church  fabric  that  was  to  stand  through  all  time  ;  his  work 
 was  i-ather  to  implant  in  humanity  the  /leic  spint,  which  was 
 to  adapt  to  itself  such  outward  forms  as  would  meet  the  Avants 
 of  human  progi'ess  in  successive  ages.  But.  Avhile  we  cordially 
 go  thus  fiir,  we  do  not  find  ourselves  wan-anted,  either  by  his- 
 toiy  or  by  the  idea  of  .such  a  conunimity.  in  granting  so  wide 
 a  latitude  as  the  theoiy  demands  to  a  principle  so  just  in  itsel£ 
 
 The  gi-adual  and  natuitil  formation  of  the  circle  of  disciples 
 about  Christ  is  no  reason  for  believing  that  he  did  not  found  a 
 Chm-ch.  His  manifestation  to  men  of  diflerent  degrees  of  sus- 
 ceptibility caused,  indeed,  a  sifting  process,  wliich  soon  sepa- 
 rate<l  the  congi-egation  of  believei-s  from  the  mass  that  rejected 
 Christ ;  but  the  natui-al  way  in  which  this  restdt  was  brought 
 about  is  no  argument  against  the  establish  me nt  of  the  Church 
 at  that  time,  more  than  against  its  existence  at  ani/  time ; 
 for,  in  fact,  in  a  certain  sense,  this  is  always  the  case.  The 
 relations  of  Christ  to  the  world  tyj)ified,  in  every  respect,  what 
 were  afterward  to  be  the  relations  of  Christianiti/ to  the  world. 
 We  find  the  name  of  disciples  applied  with  a  wider  significa- 
 tion than  that  of  A]X)stles  ;  and  why  may  we  not  consider  the 
 bands  of  these,  scattered  through  different  parts  of  Palestine, 
 and  especially  those  who,  apart  from  the  Apostles,  formed  the 
 constant  retinue  of  Christ,  as  constittiting  the  first  nucleus  of 
 the  Church  ? 
 
 §  S3. — Later  iMtitution  of  Baptism  as  an  Initiatory  Rite. 
 As  for  Baptism,  we  certainly  do  not  find,  either  m  the 
 nature  of  the  case  or  in  the  historical  accounts,  any  groimd  for 
 assuming  that  Christ  himself,  dming  his  stay  upon  eaith,  insti- 
 tuted it  as  a  symbol  of  cortsecration.  As  long  as  he  cotild,  i/i 
 perso7i,  admit  believers  into  communion  -with  himself,  no  sub- 
 stituted symbol  was  necessary  ;  and  besides,  the  Holy  Spmt, 
 which  constitutes  the  essence  of  Christian  baptism,  and  spe- 
 cifically distinguishes  it  from  that  of  John,  had  not  as  yet  been 
 manifested.     The  element  of  preparatiati  was  sufficiently  indi- 
 
 even  in  that  case,  we  must  consider  them  as  Christ's  organe,  and  acting  out 
 his  will. 
 
MIEACLE3.  133 
 
 cated  by  John's  Ijaptism,  and  therefore  Christ  (in  the  prophetic 
 words  which  liave  been  preser\-ed  to  us  in  Acts  L  5)  contrasted 
 that  preparatoiy  rite  with  the  spiritual  baptism  which  he  him- 
 self was  soon  to  impart  to  his  disciples.  The  Apostles,  how- 
 ever (quite  naturally,  in  view  of  the  gi'ound  wluch  thev  occu- 
 pied), were  un-w-illing  that  John  alone  should  baptize,  and 
 applied  the  rite,  as  the  Messianic  symbol  of  inauguration 
 which  Christ  himself  had  recognized,  in  order  to  separate 
 from  the  rest  such  as  admitted  the  Divine  calling  of  Jesus, 
 and  attached  themselves  to  himJ  We  cannot  infer  from  this, 
 however,  that  there  existed  at  the  time  a  definite  rule  for 
 the  application  of  baptism.  Yet,  although  Christ  did  not 
 command,  he  permiited  it,  as  fitted  to  form  a  point  of  tran- 
 sition from  John's  to  Christian  baptism. 
 
 But  when  he  was  about  to  "«athdi-aw  his  pei'sonal  presence 
 from  his  disciples,  it  became  neces.sary  to  substitute  a  symbol 
 in  its  place.  His  sufieiings  and  resurrection,  the  fundamental 
 /acts  from  which  the  new  creation,  through  the  Holy  Spuit, 
 was  to  spring,  had  necessarily  to  take  place  before  the  insti- 
 tution of  Christian  baptism  proper  ;  for  that  baptism  implies 
 an  appropriation  of  the  fruit  of  his  sufi'erings,  a  fellowship  in 
 his  resiuTection,  and  a  participation  of  that  Hfe,  in  conmiu- 
 nion  with  Him,  which  is  above  the  world  and  death.  The 
 full  import  of  baptism  could  not  be  realized  until  the  process 
 which  began  with  Christ's  death  and  resun-ection  had  reached 
 its  con-summation ;  until  the  exaltation  had  followed  the  re- 
 surrection, and  the  glorified  Redeemer  had  dis})layed  his  tri- 
 umphant power  in  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The 
 same  efiects  which  flowed  to  mankind  in  general  from  these 
 facts,  and  the  process  which  rested  upon  them,  were  to  be  re- 
 peated in  every  indi\-idual  case  of  baptism. 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 §  S4. — Connexion  of  Christ's  Miracles  vnth  his  Mode  of  Teaching. 
 "We  have  before  remarked  that  what  most  distinguished  the 
 Teaching  of  Christ  was,  that  it  was  his  sdf-revelation,  and  in 
 this  ^■iew  it  embraces  both  his  Words  and  Works.  His  Mi- 
 racles, then,  must  be  spoken  of  in  connexion  with  his  mode 
 of  Teaching.  Although  they  are  not  to  be  sundered  from 
 their  connexion   ■with   his  whole   self-revelation,    yet,    as   an 
 
 '  John  iv.  2. 
 
134  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 especially  promineBt  featui-e  of  it,  they  served  the  highest 
 purpose,  in  a  certain  sense,  in  vividly  exhibiting  the  nature 
 of  Christ,  as  Son  of  CtOD  and  Son  of  Man.  They  have  also 
 an  additional  claim  to  be  mentioned  in  this  connexion,  as 
 they  served  as  a  basis  and  support  of  his  laboui's  as  a  teacher, 
 as  a  preparatory  means  of  leading  from  sensible  phenomena 
 to  Divine  things,  and  of  rendering  souls,  as  yet  bound  to 
 the  world  of  sense,  susceptible  of  his  higher  Spiritual  influences. 
 In  regard  to  the  JVIii-acles,  three  distinct  inquiries  present 
 themselves  : — (I.)  What  was  their  real  objective  character  and- 
 relation  to  the  universe,  and  the  Divine  government  thereof  I 
 (II.)  In  what  view,  and  with  v/hat  impressions,  did  the  con- 
 temporaries of  Christ  receive  them  1  (III.)  What  decision 
 did  Christ  himself  pronounce  as  to  their  nature,  their  value, 
 and  the  ends  he  sought  to  accomplish  by  them  ? 
 
 (A.)  THE  OBJECTIVE  CHABACTEE  OF  MIRACLES. 
 
 §  85. — Negative  Element  of  tlie  Miracle. — Its  Iiisufficiency. 
 
 We  must  distinguish  in  the  Miracle  a  negative  and  a  positive 
 clement.  The  former  consists  simply  in  this,  that  a  certain 
 event,  either  in  the  world  of  natm*e  or  man,  is  inexplicable 
 by  any  known  laws  or  powei's.  Events,  however,  thus  simply 
 inexplicable,'^  and  even  acknowledged  to  be  so,  are  not  miracles, 
 luiless  they  bear  upon  religious  interests.  Many  will  admit 
 certain  facts  to  be  inexplicable  by  any  known  laws,  and  at 
 the  same  time  refuse  to  grant  them  a  mii'aculous  or  super- 
 natural character.  Some  are  led,  by  an  unprejudiced  admis- 
 sion of  the  facts,  to  acknowledge,  %vithout  any  regard  what- 
 ever to  religion,  that  they  transcend  the  limits  of  existing 
 science,  and  content  themselves  with  that  acknowledgment ; 
 leaving  it  to  the  progress  of  natural  philosophy  or  psychology 
 to  discover  the  laws,  as  yet  unknown,  that  "\\all  explain  the 
 mysterious  phenomena.  Or,  if  the  naiTative  of  facts  be  such, 
 as  to  preclude  even  the  possibility  of  such  subsequent  dis- 
 covexy  and  solution,  they  seek  an  explanation  in  ascribing 
 chasms  and  deficiencies  to  the  account,  and  withhold,  for  the 
 time  at  least,  their  judgment  upon  the  facts  themselves  ; 
 while  a  spur  is  given  to  inquiry  and  research,  in  order,  if 
 possible,  by  some  process  of  combination  or  conjecture,  to  fill 
 up  the  existing  gaps  of  the  narrative. 
 
 Even  an  objective  (real)  deviation  from  ordinary  phenomena 
 
 ■"  A  prodigiwn  or  ripaQ  but  no  arjixuov,  distinguishing  these  words 
 according  to  their  original  import. 
 
MIRACLES.'  135 
 
 may  be  admitted  by  tbose  who  refuse  to  admit  of  miracles,  in 
 the  religious  sense  of  the  term.  That  1%  indeed,  a  narrow 
 and  ignorant  scepticism  which  measures  everjiihing  by  the 
 stiff  standard  of  known  laws,  and  passes  sentence  at  once 
 upon  every  fact,  no  matter  how  well  attested,  which  transcends 
 those  laws  ;  but  a  more  profovmd  and  scientific  philosophy 
 knows  that  thei'e  are  powers  yet  undiscovered,  which  will 
 explain  many  apparent  anomalies.  With  such  minds  we  can 
 more  readily  come  to  an  understanding  in  regard  to  the  his- 
 torical truth  of  a  narrative  of  extraordinary  events.  No  un- 
 prejudiced reader  of  historj'^  can  deny  the  occuiTence  of  inex- 
 pUcable  phenomena  in  aU  past  ages ;  and  even  those  of 
 magnetism,  ill-defined  as  they  are  as  yet,  have  taught  us  not 
 to  decide  so  promptly  against  everything  that  goes  beyond  our 
 knowledge  of  the  powers  of  nature. 
 
 Yet  we  must  not  suppose  that  all  this  gains  anything  directly 
 to  the  cause  of  religion,  within  whose  sphere  alone  the  concep- 
 tion of  the  miracle  is  a  reality.  It  leaves  us  stiU  in  the 
 domain  of  nature  and  of  natural  agencies.  It  is  not  upon  this 
 road,  therefore,  that  we  can  lead  men  to  recognize  the  super- 
 natui'al  and  the  Divine  ;  to  admit  the  powers  of  heaven  as 
 manifesting  themselves  upon  earth.  Miracles  belong  to  a 
 region  of  holiness  and  freedom,  to  which  neither  experience, 
 nor  observation,  nor  scientific  discovery  can  lead.  There  is  no 
 bridge  between  this  domain  and  that  of  natm-al  phenomena. 
 Only  by  means  of  our  inward  affinity  for  this  spiritual  kingdom, 
 only  by  hearing  and  obejnng,  in  the  stillness  of  the  soul,  the 
 voice  of  God  -sv-itliin  us,  can  Ave  reach  those  lofty  regions.  If 
 there  be  obstacles  in  our  way,  no  science  can  remove  them. 
 
 In  fact,  the  mode  of  thinking  to  which  we  have  referred, 
 instead  of  necessarily  leading  to  Theism  (the  only  religious 
 stand-point;  for  rel^on  demands  something  supramundane, 
 and  oiiust  enter  the  sphei-e  of  another  world),  is  perfectly  con- 
 sistent -svith  the  Pantheistic  view  of  the  world,  and  may  be 
 used  to  con  fi  I'm  it.  It  is  not  the  results  of  experience  which 
 fix  our  point  of  view;  but  the  latter,  independently  assumed 
 on  other  grounds,  gives  chai-acter  to  aU  our  judgments  of  the 
 fonner.  Nay,  by  applying  natural  laws  to  religious  phenomena, 
 one  may  view  new  religions  simply  as  proceeding  from  the 
 laws  of  the  development  of  the  universe,  in  order  to  form  new 
 epochs  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  thence  consider  the 
 founders  of  such  religions  as  organs  of  the  soul  of  the  world, 
 concentrating  in  them  the  hidden  powers  of  nature.    This  was 
 
13G  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 the  view  of  Pomponatius,  who  thought  that  in  this  way,  while 
 denying  eveiythiiig  sixpeniatural,  he  could  admit  many  of  what 
 others  call  miracles.  It  is  true,  there  are  some  of  the  miracles 
 of  the  Bible  Avhich,  on  the  face  of  them,  admit  of  no  such 
 explanation ;  but  one  who  holds  such  A-iews  v.'ill  find  no  gi-eat 
 difficulty  in  doubting  ever}'  account  of  mii-aculous  events  which 
 cannot  be  made  to  harmonize  with  them ;  a-s  Pomponatius  did, 
 who  could  not  with  sincerity,  after  an  utter  denial  of  the 
 supernatural,  abandon  his  ground  simply  because  some  of  the 
 miracles  could  not  be  explained  by  it. 
 
 §  86. — Positive  Element. — Teleological  Aim  of  Miracles. 
 Miracles,  then,  are  entirely  different  from  results  of  the 
 2yov)ers  of  nature  intensified.  The  question  of  their  character 
 camiot  be  decided  on  the  groimd  either  of  Deism  or  Pantheism 
 (opposed  as  these  theories  are  to  each  other;  the  one  incor- 
 rectly separating  the  idea  of  God  from  that  of  the  world,  tlie 
 other  as  incon-ectly  blending  the  two  together),  but  only  in 
 regard  to  the  Final  causes  of  the  government  of  God,  considered 
 as  an  Omni.scient  and  Omnipotent  personal  Being.  AVe  miglit 
 dispute  Avith  these  theories  in  reference  to  mAateA  facts,  on 
 historical  and  exegetical  gi-ounds ;  but  the  question  of  miracles, 
 as  such,  rises  into  a  veiy  different  sjdiere,  and  no  agreement 
 on  separate  points  woidd  bring  us  nearer  to  an  adjustment. 
 
 The  2}ositive  element,  wliich  nuist  be  added  to  the  negative 
 one,  already  spoken  of,  in  order  to  constitute  any  inexjdicable 
 phenomenon  a  miracle,  is,  that  the  Divine  power  in  the  phe- 
 nomenon itself  shall  reveal  it  to  our  religious  consciousness  as 
 a  distinctive  sign  of  a  new  Di^'ine  communication,  transcending 
 the  natural  j)rogi'ess  and  powers  of  humanity,  and  designed  to 
 raise  it  to  a  position  higher  than  its  originally  created  powers 
 covild  have  reached.  That  higher  ])o.sition  to  which  tlie  Di\'ine 
 revelations,  accampaniecl  hy  miracles  as  distinctive  signs,  were 
 destined  to  elevate  mankind,  is  tlie  character  originally  stamped 
 by  God  upon  human  nature,  which  was  lost  by  sin.  Man 
 \iolently  sundered  his  union  with  God,  liis  ti-ue  element  of 
 life,  in  which  the  Hupernatural  and  the  Natural  were  in  per- 
 fect harmony :  it  w;is  necessary,  therefore,  that  the  former 
 should  reveal  its(?lf  in  opj)Osition  to  tlie  latter — that  Minides 
 should  1)e  opposcfl  to  Nature — in  order  that  Nature  might  be 
 brought  l>ack  to  her  original  harmony  with  God.  But  miracles, 
 considered  as  signs  of  the  Divinity  revealed  in  the  world  of 
 sense,  cannot,  as  such,  be  considered  apaii;  from  their  connexion 
 
MIRACLES.  137 
 
 ■with  the  whole  vevcLition  of  God.  Their  esv^eutial  nature  is 
 to  be  discovered,  uot  by  vie\N'ing  them  ;u5  isolated  exhibitions 
 of  Divine  power,  Init  as  elements  of  liis  revelation  as  a  whole, 
 in  the  harmony  of  his  insep;u-able  attril)utes,  the  Holy  Love 
 and  Wisdom  appearing  as  much  as  the  Omnipotence.  It  is 
 this  wliioh  stamps  Dixinity  upon  such  phenomena,  and  attracts 
 all  soids  that  are  alUed  to  God.  Thus  the  negative  element 
 of  miracles  is  only  a  tinger-post  to  the  positive ;  the  inex- 
 plicable character  of  the  event  leads  us  to  the  new  revelation, 
 wluch  it  accompanies,  of  that  same  Almighty  love  which  gave 
 birth  to  the  laws  of  the  x-isible  world,  and  which,  in  ordinary 
 times,  veils  its  operations  behind  them. 
 
 §  Sr. — Relation  of  Miracles  to  the  Course  of  Nature. 
 
 Omnipotence  is  ahmi/s  as  directly  operative  in  nature  as  it 
 was  at  the  creation ;  but  ice  can  only  detect  its  workings  by 
 means  of  the  law  of  cause  and  effect  in  the  material  world. 
 Under  this  veil  of  natural  laws,  religious  faith  always  iliscovei's 
 the  Divine  caus;ility,  and  the  religious  miml,  although  it  may, 
 indeed,  contemplate  natural  phenomena  from  different  point* 
 of  xiew,  and  may  distinguish  l^etween  free  and  necessary/  cau- 
 salities in  nature,  will  always  trace  them  liack  to  the  inmiediate 
 agency  of  Almighty  love.  Just  so  in  mu-ades,  we  do  not  see 
 the  Divine  agency  i)nnn'diate?f/,  but  in  a  veil,  as  it  were;  the 
 DiWne  caus;\lity  does  not  aj^pear  in  tliem  as  coefficient  ^\'ith 
 natm-al  causes,  and  therefore  cannot  be  an  object  of  external 
 perception,  but  reveals  itself  only  to  Faith.  But  the  miracle, 
 by  displaying  phenomena  out  of  the  ortlimuy  connexion  of 
 cause  and  effect,  manifests  the  interference  of  a  higher  powei% 
 and  points  out  a  higher  connexion,  in  which  even  the  chain  of 
 phenomena  ui  the  xisible  world  must  be  taken  up. 
 
 JNIiracles,  then,  pi-esent  themselves  to  lis  as  links  in  that 
 great  clnviu  of  manifestations  whose  object  is  to  restore  man  to 
 his  lost  communion  with  God.  auil  to  impart  to  liim  a  life,  not 
 derived  from  any  createtl  causiility.  but  immediately  from  God. 
 As  heiv  new  and  higher  powei^s  enter  into  the  sphere  of 
 humanity,  thei'e  must  be  novel  effects  i-esidting  from  them, 
 which  cannot  be  exjilained  apai't  from  the  accom[ianying 
 revelation,  but  point  out  to  the  i"eligious  consciousness  their 
 self-reveahng  cause.  Such  effects  are  the  miracles,  which,  from 
 the  consiileratious  we  have  mentioned,  lay  chiim,  even  ;xs  inex- 
 pliciible  phenomena  simply,  to  a  reUgious  interest.  And 
 Jilthough,  from  their  very  nature,  they  tituiscend  the  orilinaiy 
 
138  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 law  of  cause  and  effect,  they  do  not  contradict  it,  inasmuch  as 
 nature  has  been  so  ordered  by  Divine  ■wisdom  as  to  admit 
 higher  and  creative  agencies  into  her  sphere ;  and  it  Ls  pei-fectly 
 oiatural  that  such  powers,  once  admitted,  should  produce  effects 
 beyond  the  scope  of  ordinary  causes. '^  In  the  Divine  j)lan  of 
 the  imiverse  (of  whose  fulfilment  the  connexion  of  causes  in 
 the  visible  world  manifests  only  one  side),  miracles  stand  in 
 relations  of  reciprocal  harmony  to  events  occurring  in  accord- 
 ance mth  natural  laws.  From  the  chain  of  causes  involved  in 
 that  great  plan,  indeed,  no  events,  natural  or  supernatvu-al,  are 
 excluded;  both  circles  of  phenomena  belong  to  the  realization 
 of  the  Divine  idea. 
 
 §  88. — Selation  of  the  Individual  Miracles  to  the  highest  Miracle,  the 
 Manifestation  of  Christ. 
 
 In  the  miracles  nature  is  shown  to  be  related,  like  histoiy," 
 to  the  one  highest  aim  of  Gob's  holy  love,  namely,  the  redemp- 
 tion of  the  human  race  to  the  communion  of  the  Divine  life, 
 or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  the  establishment  of  His  kingdom 
 among  men.  Nature  was  destined  to  reveal  and  glorify  God  ; 
 but  it  can  only  do  this  in  connexion  with  rational  beings, 
 together  with  whom  it  forms  the  world  as  a  whole.  Now  the 
 communion  of  rational  beings,  working  together  ydih.  consciovis 
 fx-eedom  to  reveal  and  glorify  God,  is  nothing  else  but  the 
 kingdom  of  GoD ;  and  as  the  unity  which  is  to  exhibit  the 
 world  as  a  whole  can  only  be  complete  when  nature  has  been 
 fully  appropriated  for  the  i-evelation  of  that  kingdom,  it  follows 
 that  the  realization  of  the  latter  is  the  aim  of  the  whole 
 creation — of  both  nature  and  history. 
 
 The  manifestation  of  Christ,  the  founder  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  the  bestower  upon  mankind  of  that  Divine  life  which 
 constitutes  the  essence  of  the  kingdom,  was  the  highest  miracle, 
 the  central  point  of  all  miracles,  and  required  other  and  analo- 
 gous phenomena  to  precede  and  follow  it.  But  as  the  re- 
 establishment  of  the  original  harmony  between  the  natural  and 
 the  Divine  (which  coincides  with  the  completion  of  the  Divine 
 kingdom)  was  the  jBoial  aim  of  redemption,  so,  when  the  Divine 
 life,  the  essential  jirinciple  of  the  miracle  itself,  wliich  is  purely 
 and  in  its  essence  supernatural,  was  incorporated  ^\dth  the 
 natural  progress  of  humanity  by  the  manifestation  of  Cluist,  it 
 
 ^  The  Schoolmen  of  the  thirteenth  century  rightly  distinguished  the 
 potentia  activa  from  the  potentia  passiva,  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  the 
 supernatural  to  the  natural. 
 
MIRACLES.  139 
 
 followed   that   ttenceforwaxd,  in  all  ages,  it    sliould  operate 
 Avithin  the  forms  and  laws  of  human  nature. 
 
 §  89. — Relation  of  Miracles  to  Hist&ry. 
 
 The  relation  of  miracles  to  history  is  perhaps  sufficiently 
 obvious  from  what  has  been  said.  Every  theory  of  history 
 that  proceeds  from  the  stand-point  of  natural  i^ason,  admitting 
 nothing  superior  to  itself,  must,  from  its  very  point  of  de- 
 parture, reject  the  idea  of  miracles.  It  must  seek  to  include 
 and  explain  all  events  by  one  and  the  same  pragmatical  con- 
 nexion of  causes,  and  can  therefore  find  no  place  for  miracles. 
 Even  if  it  be  desirous  to  examine  the  acts  of  Christ  without 
 prejudice,  it  can  only,  from  its  peculiar  stand-point,  manifest 
 such  freedom  by  representing  truthfally,  according  to  the 
 accounts  that  remain,  how  Christ  himself  wished  these  phe- 
 nomena to  be  regarded,  and  what  impression  they  made  iipon 
 his  contemporaries. 
 
 But  this  holds  good  of  only  a  veiy  limited  and  arbitrary 
 idea  of  history,  one  which  barricades  itself  by  its  own  prejudices 
 against  all  higher  views.  The  conception  of  the  miracle,  as 
 such,  is  in  no  way  repugnant  to  a  really  scientific  theory  of 
 history;  and  as  it  is  the  task  of  the  latter  to  study  the  proper 
 character  of  every  fact  and  phenomenon,  the  import  of  miracles, 
 as  miracles,  is  one  of  its  necessary  problems.  The  manifes- 
 tation of  Christ,  indeed,  can  only  be  rightly  Tinderstood  when 
 it  is  conceived  as  being  originally  Divine  and  supra-historical, 
 and  as  having  become  historical;  and  Christianity  can  only  be 
 explained  as  a  supernatural  principle,  destined  to  impart  to 
 history  a  new  tendency  and  direction.  In  this  connexion  the 
 individual  mii'acles,  preceding,  accompanying,  and  following 
 the  manifestation  of  Christ,  appear  entirely  in  accordance  with 
 nature.  As  for  histoiy  itself,  when  it  does  not  refer  to  Chris- 
 tianity and  the  kingdom  of  God  as  the  object  of  all  hiunan 
 progress,  it  appears  but  as  a  lawless  play  of  forces  moving 
 hither  and  thither,  rising  and  falling,  without  aim  and  without 
 unity.  Christianity  alone  shows  us  that  it  has  both.  But  in 
 order  to  comprehend  Christianity,  and,  through  it,  History, 
 reason  must  receive  the  higher  light  of  faith,  without  which 
 the  eye  of  the  mind  must  remain,  blind  to  the  operations  and 
 revelation  of  the  Divinity  in  the  coui'se  of  human  progress.y 
 
 y  My  view  of  the  miracles  agrees  with  what  Tviesten  has  said  in  the 
 Introduction  to  his  "  Dogmatik ;"  and  I  am  gratified  to  find  a  similar 
 agreement,  also,  in  his  second  volume,  pt.  i.  p.  170,  seq. 
 
140  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 (B.)   THE   MIRACLES   OF    CHRIST   AS   SUBJECTIVELY 
 
 VIEWED  BY  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES. 
 
 §  90. — Miracles  deemed  an  essential  Sijn  of  Messiah-ship. 
 
 It  Ls  evident  from  many  passages  in  the  Gosjiel  naiTative, 
 that  miracles  were  essentially  necessary,  as  signs  of  the  Messi- 
 anic calling.  Had  Christ,  therefore,  wTought  no  miracles,  his 
 contemporaries  could  not  have  believed  in  his  Messiahsliip ; 
 nor  could  he  himself  have  been  thoroughly  and  pennanently 
 convinced  of  it,  had  he  not  both  been  conscious  of  power  to 
 perform  them,  and  put  that  power  into  exerci.se.  John  the 
 Baptist  was  satisfied,  from  his  own  inability  to  acliieve  such 
 works,  that  he  was  not  eudo%\-ed  with  the  Me.ssianic  fulness  of 
 the  Spirit;  and  it  is  obvious,  from  his  recei'sing  Christ's 
 miracles  as  a  proof  of  liis  Messiahship,  that  he  expected  such 
 signs  of  the  indwelling  fulness  of  Di\T.ne  power  in  the  time 
 Messiah. 
 
 Nor  can  it  be  proved  (as  some  suppose)  that  it  was  common 
 among  the  Jews  to  spread  iiimours  of  miracles  wrought  by 
 men  whose  deeds  had  made  them  objects  of  popular  veneration, 
 as  was  subsequently  the  case  in  the  IVIiddle  Ages,  where  we 
 find  mu'aculous  powers  ascribed  to  such  men  even  during  their 
 lifetime.  There  is  a  great  difference  in  the  relations  of  the  two 
 periods.  The  Middle  Age  was  the  period  of  a  ')ieiv  creation, 
 developed  from  the  new  principle  of  life  which  Chiistianity 
 (even  alloyed  as  it  was  with  Jewish  elements)  introduced 
 among  the  micultivated  nations.  It  was  a  period  of  youtliful 
 fi'eshness,  enthusiasm,  and  2:)oetiy.  The  men  of  that  time, 
 through  their  lively  faith  in  the  DiAine  power  of  Christianity, 
 as  ever  present  and  ever  active,  ke^^t  their  connexion  -with  the 
 miracles  that  attended  its  first  appearance  unbroken,  and 
 figured  and  imitated  them  by  their  youthful  and  inventive 
 power  of  imagination.^  But  while  such  was  the  relation 
 between  the  Middle  Age  and  the  period  of  Clu-ist's  appearance, 
 there  was  no  similar  i-elation  IjetAveen  the  latter  and  the  Old 
 Testament  age.  Christ  did  not  manifest  himself  at  a  period  of 
 new  creation  thi-ough  influences  jn-eviously  wrought  into  the 
 life  of  the  people  by  Judaism,  but  at  a  time  when  Judaism 
 itself  was  decaying  and  d}ing  ;  the  revelations  and  mighty 
 works  of  Divine  power  lay  buried  in  a  far^listant  antiquity  ; 
 
 *  llie  miraculous  tales  of  the  excited  Middle  Age  may  he  explained  from 
 the  CO- working  of  various  influences,  but  this  is  not  the  place  to  enter  mto 
 the  subject. 
 
MIRACLES.  141 
 
 and  there  was  a  vast  cliasm,  visible  to  all  eyes,  between  the 
 lofty,  holy  age  of  Prophecy,  and  that  weak  and  lifeless  time. 
 After  the  voice  of  prophecy  was  hushed,  God  was  said  to  reveal 
 himself  only  by  occasional  utterances ;  such,  for  instance,  as  the 
 BathrColj"^  a  miraculous  sound  from  heaven;  or  by  words  of 
 men,  interpreted  as  omens.  Scarcely  any  tales  of  wonder  were 
 told  but  sxich  as  referred  to  the  Exorcists^  who  were  skilled  in 
 the  deceptive  ai^ts  of  jugglery,  and  were  said  to  do  many  mar- 
 vellous things.  In  short,  it  is  sufficiently  proved  that  niii^aeles 
 were  deemed  no  oi'dinary  occurrences  among  the  Jews,'  by  the 
 fact  that  they  Avere  expected  to  be  distinctive  signs  of  the 
 Messiah,  and  that  they  were  not  ascribed  even  to  John  the 
 Baptist,  notwithstanding  his  great  deeds  and  the  honom*  in 
 which  he  was  held  as  a  prophet. 
 
 (C.)  CHEIST'S  OWN  ESTIMATE  OF  HIS  MIEACLES. 
 §  91. — Apparent  Discrepancies,  and  Mode  of  Removing  them. 
 
 There  are  apparent  contradictions  in  the  several  explanations 
 given  by  Christ  of  his  miracles;  and  by  following  them  out 
 s"eparately  we  might  arrive  at  different  views  of  the  estimate 
 which  he  himself  placed  upon  them.  But  in  order  to  bring 
 perfect  harmony  out  of  these  appai-ent  contradictions,  it  is  only 
 necessary  to  distinguish  the  different  points  of  %-iew  in  which 
 the  miracles  present  themselves.  It  has  been  already  said, 
 that  miracles  can  be  con-ectly  xniderstood,  not  when  viewed  as 
 isolated  facts,  but  in  connexion  with  the  whole  cii'cle  of  Divine 
 revelation.  Those  of  Christ,  especially,  are  intelligible  only 
 when  considered  as  results  of  his  self-revelation,  or,  as  St.  John 
 expresses  it,  as  the  manifestation  of  his  (jlo'nj.  They  demand, 
 therefore,  to  be  so  conceived  in  connexion  as  to  exliibit  vividly 
 his  whole  image  in  each  of  these  separate  manifestations;  and, 
 on  the  other  hand,  the  .same  considerations  point  out,  as  the 
 highest  aim  of  miracles,  the  revelation  of  Christ's  gloiy  in  the 
 whole  of  his  personal  manifestation. 
 
 (1.)  Christ's  Object  in  working  Miracles  two-fold. 
 
 In  their  foruuil  import,  miracles  are  atjfiela,  signs,  designed 
 to  point  from  objects  of  .sense  to  God;  powers  which,  by  pro- 
 ducing results  inexplicable  by  ordinary  agencies,  are  intended 
 
 ■''  Tlie  Batli-Col  may  be  explained  on  the  ground  that  a  heavenly  voice 
 was  b-upposed  to  be  heard  in  a  period  of  devotion,  or  that  words  accidentally 
 .spoken  by  one  person  had  a  peculiar  Bubjective  meaning  for  another,  like 
 the  tolk  lege  of  Augustine.  >>  Joseph.  Archaeol.  viii.  2,  4. 
 
 '  Josephus  says,  with  reference  to  miracles,  "  ra  irandXoya  Kai  fitH^u 
 TT](,  iXiridoQ  roli;  i^oiotg  viffTolrai  Trpayfiaaii'." — Archaeol.  x.  2,  1. 
 
142  THE  MEAJffS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 to  lead  minds  yet  under  the  bonds  of  sense,  and  unfitted  for  an 
 immediate  spiritual  revelation,  to  yearn  after  and  acknowledge 
 a  Hgher  power.  But  as  they  were  designed  to  show  forth  the 
 whole  revealed  Christ,  and  as  the  Di\ine  attributes,  in  the 
 totality  of  wMcli  the  image  of  God  was  realized  in  him,  cannot 
 be  isolated  from  each  other,  so  no  separate  manifestation  of 
 jyower  could  proceed  from  him,  not  at  the  same  time  exhibiting 
 all  the  other  attributes  belonging  to  the  Divine  image.  It  is 
 clear,  therefore,  that  although  miracles,  in  relation  to  nature, 
 are  especially  manifestations  of  Power,  they  could  not  be  per- 
 formed except  in  cases  where  the  other  attributes,  the  Wisdom 
 and  the  holy  Love,  were  brought  into  requisition.  For  the 
 same  reason,  too,  we  cannot  conceive  Christ's  miracles  as 
 epideictic,  i.  e.,  "vvTought  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  display 
 his  power  over  the  laws  of  nature.  In  them,  as  in  aU  his  other 
 actions,  the  end  which  he  had  in  view  is  shown  by  the  given 
 circumstances  in  each  case. 
 
 Accordingly,  we  distinguish  a  two-foldobject  of  his  mii*acles, 
 the  first  a  material  one,  i.  e.,  the  meeting  of  some  immediate 
 emergency,  of  some  want  of  man's  earthly  life,  which  his  love 
 urged  him  to  satisfy ;  the  other  and  higher  one,  to  poiat  him- 
 self out  to  the  persons  whose  earthly  necessities  were  thus 
 relieved,  as  the  One  alone  capable  of  satisfying  their  higher 
 and  essential  spiritual  wants  ;  to  raise  them  from  this  single 
 exhibition  of  his  glory  in  the  individual  miracle  to  a  vivid 
 apprehension  of  the  glory  of  liis  entire  natiu-e.  Nor  was  this 
 last  and  higher  aim  of  the  mii-acle  confined  to  the  persons 
 immediately  concerned  ;  it  was  to  be  to  all  others  a  sign,  that 
 they  might  believe  in  Jesus  as  the  Son  of  God. 
 
 (2.)  A  Susceptibility  to  receive  Impressions  from  the  Miracles 
 presupposed. 
 
 But  all  external  influences  designed  to  produce  an  impression 
 such  as  we  have  stated  demand  a  susceptible  soil  in  the  minds 
 of  those  who  are  to  receive  them.  The  revelation  of  Christ  by 
 his  works,  no  more  than  by  his  words,  could  produce  a  DiWne 
 impression  Avithout  an  inward  susceptibiUty  of  Divine  influ- 
 ences. The  consciousness  of  God  must  exist  in  the  soul,  though 
 dormant.  The  Divine  revelation  must  find  some  point  of 
 contact  in  human  nature  before  religious  faith  can  spring  up  ; 
 there  is  no  compulsory  influence  from  without  by  which  the 
 unsusceptible  soul  can  be  driven  to  faith  by  an  irresistible 
 necessity. 
 
MIRACLES.  143 
 
 So,  when  a  cai'nal,  "worldly  miud  is  tlie  prevaUing  tendency, 
 outward  phenomena,  however  extraordinary,  pass  by,  and  make 
 no  impression.  The  mighty  power  of  the  vnll  cannot  be 
 subdued  by  any  external  force.  The  worldly  spirit  makes 
 everything  winch  touches  it  worldly  too.  Encompassed  by 
 Divine  powers,  it  remains  closed  against  them,  in  its  earthly 
 inclinations,  thoughts,  and  feelings.  The  mind,  thus  perverted, 
 cheats  itself  by  denying  all  miracles,  because  to  acknowledge 
 them  would  oppose  its  fleshly  interests,  and  contradict  the 
 system  of  delusion  to  which  it  is  a  slave.  It  calls  the  powers 
 of  sophistry  to  aid  its  self-deception,  by  converting  eveiything 
 which  could  tend  to  undeceive  it  into  a  means  of  deeper  delu- 
 sion ;  like  those  Pharisees  who,  when  compelled  to  acknowledge 
 works  beyond  explanation  by  ordinaiy  agencies,  referred  them 
 to  the  powers  of  darkness  rather  than  of  light,  in  order  to 
 escape  an  admission  which  they  were  detennined  to  evade.  So 
 he  who  totally  rejects  the  supernatui'al  has  already  decided 
 upon  aU  separate  cases,  and  a  mii-acle  wrought  before  his  very 
 eyes  would  not  be  recognized  as  such.  He  might  admit  the 
 fact  as  extraordinary,  but  would  involuntarily  seek  some  other 
 explanation.  A  mode  of  thinking  that  controls  the  mind 
 cannot  be  shaken  by  any  power  acting  ivIwUy  from  without. 
 Such  is  the  might  of  the  free  will,  which  proves  its  freedom 
 even  by  its  self-created  bondage. 
 
 Or  if  miracles  do  impress  the  fleshly  mind  for  a  moment  by 
 the  flash  of  gi-atification  or  astonishment  which  they  afibrd,  the 
 impression,  made  merely  upon  the  senses,  is  but  transitory; 
 for  it  lacks  the  point  of  contact  in  the  soul  which  alone  can 
 make  it  permanent.  How  quickly  are  sensible  impressions,, 
 even  the  strongest,  forgotten,  when  other  and  contrary  ones 
 follow  them  !  And  here  we  find  one  of  the  reasons  why 
 Chi'ist  refused  the  demand  for  mii'acles  merely  as  proofs  of  Yns. 
 wonder-working  power.  For  those,  he  said,  whose  perverted 
 minds  could  not  be  roused  to  repentance  by  Moses  and  the 
 prophets,  woidd  not  he  persuaded  though  one  rose  from  the 
 deml. 
 
 How  grossly  ignorant,  then,  of  human  nature  must  the 
 Deists  of  the  seventeenth  century  have  been,  who  plead  in 
 opposition  to  the  reality  of  Christ's  miracles,  the  comparatively 
 little  effect  which  they  produced  !^ 
 
 ^  Like  that  strange  enthusiast,  Daniel  Afiillcr,  who  appeared  in  Nassau 
 in  the  transition  period  between  mysticism  and  rationalism,  and  in  whom 
 these  two  tendencies  joined  hands.     From  the  extreme  of  mystic  super- 
 
144  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 We  shall  find,  therefore,  Chiist's  own  statements  in  regard 
 to  his  miracles  to  harmonize  peifectly  Avith  each  other,  if  we 
 properly  distingixish  the  various  classes  of  human  character  in 
 theii'  religious  and  moral  relations  to  miracles,  and  the  different 
 relations  and  tendencies  of  the  mii'acles  themselves. 
 §  92. — The  Sign  of  the  Propfcet  JoiwJi. 
 
 Christ's  declaration,  in  answer  to  a  deinand  for  a  miraculous 
 attestation  of  his  Messiahship,  that  "  no  sign  sJiall  he  given  to 
 this  generation  hut  the  sign  of  the  Prophet  Jonalt"  has  been 
 thought  by  some  to  indicate  either  that  he  wrought  no 
 miracles  at  all,  or  that  he  did  not  mean  to  employ  them  as 
 proofs  of  his  Divine  calling.  The  passage  preceding  that  decla- 
 ration of  itself  is  enough  to  refute  this ;  for  he  had  just  ap- 
 pealed to  the  healing  of  a  demoniac  as  proof  of  the  Di\'ine 
 character  of  his  power,^  and  to  the  fact  that  the  kingdom  of 
 God  v/as  victoriously  introduced  among  men  by  him*  as 
 a  testimony  that  his  ministry  was  Divine.  But  we  can 
 refute  it  by  simply  showing  the  only  sense  which  the  words 
 could  have  conveyed,  in  the  connexion  in  which  they  were 
 used. 
 
 The  wox'ks  of  Jesus  had  made  a  great  impression,  very  much 
 to  the  discomfoi't  of  those  who.se  mode  of  tliinking  and  party 
 interests  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  oppose  him.  They 
 natui'ally  sought  to  counteract  this  impression  ;  to  dispute  the 
 evidence  of  the  facts  which  confirmed  his  ministry  as  Divine. 
 While  the  most  base  and  hostile,  compelled  to  admit  the 
 superhimian  powers  of  Chii.st,  attributed  them  to  the  kingdom 
 of  darkness,  there  were  others  who  did  not  dare  to  utter  such 
 an  acciisation,  but  asked  a  sign  of  a  different  character,  an 
 objective  testimony  from  God  himself  in  favour  of  Christ  and 
 his  ministry,  which  could  not  deceive  ;  a  visible  celestial  phe- 
 nomenon, for  instance,  or  a  voice  from  heaven,  clearly  and 
 unequivocally  authenticating  liim  as  a  messenger  from  God. 
 
 naturali.sra  he  passed  over  to  the  sceptical  conclusions  ofour  modem  critics. 
 In  his  treatise  against  Lcsshi'j  he  says,  "It  is  impossible  that  there  should 
 liave  heen  a  Christ  1,700  years  ago,  who  literally  wrought  such  wonders  as 
 these.  Had  any  man,  by  his  mere  word,  caused  the  blind  to  see  and  the 
 lame  to  walk,  given  health  to  the  leper  and  strength  to  the  palsied,  fed 
 thousands  with  a  few  loaves,  and  even  raised  the  dead,  all  men  must  have 
 esteemed  him  Divine,  all  men  must  have  followed  him.  Only  imagine 
 what  you  yourself  would  liave  thought  of  such  a  man  ;  and  human  nature 
 is  the  same  in  all  ages.  And,  with  so  many  followers,  the  scribes  and 
 Pharisees  could  not  have  killed  him." — Jlgen's  Zeitschrift,  1834,  p.  257. 
 ■^  Liike  xi.  20.  '  Luke  xi.  22. 
 
MIRACLES.  14-5 
 
 In  answer,  then,  to  those  who  asked  a  Divine  sign  apart  from 
 his  whole  manifestation,  a  sign  for  that  which  was  of  itself  the 
 greatest  of  all  signs,  Christ  appeals  to  that  loftiest  of  signs,  his 
 own  appearance  as  the  God-Man,  which  included  witlun  itself 
 all  his  miracles  as  separate,  individual  manifestations.  £  To  this 
 (he  told  them) — ^iz.,  that  "  the  manifestation  of  the  Son  of 
 Man  was  gi'eater  than  that  of  Jonah  or  of  Solomon" — belonged 
 all  those  works  of  liis  which  no  other  coidd  perform  ;  every- 
 thing was  to  be  refen-ed  to  that  manifestation  as  the  highest  in 
 the  histoiy  of  humanity.  Had  these  woixls  been  spoken  by 
 any  other,  they  would  have  convicted  him  of  saciilegious  self- 
 exaltation. 
 
 §  2Z.—"  Destroy  this  Temple,"  ttc. 
 
 Similar  to  this  was  Christ's  reply  at  the  Passover,  wliich  he 
 first  kept  in  Jerusalem,  to  those  who,  unable  to  comprehend 
 an  act  of  holy  zeal,  asked  him  to  prove  his  calling  as  a  reformer 
 by  a  miracle — "  Destroy  this  temple,  and  in  three  days  I  icill 
 raise  it  up."  Instead  of  worldng  a  mii'acle,  uncalled  for  by 
 the  circumstances,  for  their  idle  satisfaction,  he  pointed  them 
 to  a  sign  that  was  to  come,  a  gi-eat,  world-historical  sign,  which 
 may  have  been  either  his  resurrection,  that  was  to  seal  the 
 conclusion  of  his  ministry  on  earth,  and  bring  about  the 
 triumph  of  his  kingdom,  in  spite  of  the  machinations  of  liis 
 foes,  who  hoped  to  destroy  his  work  by  putting  him  to  death ; 
 or  the  creation,  as  the  end  and  aim  of  his  whole  manifestation, 
 of  the  new,  spiritual,  and  eternal  Temple  of  his  kingdom 
 among  men,  after  the  \-isible  Temple  should  have  been  de- 
 .stroyed  by  their  own  guilt. 
 
 §  94. — CJirist's  Distinction  beticecn  tlue  material  Element  of  Miracles  and  their 
 essential  Object. — John  vi.  26. 
 
 Chri.st  himself  distinguishes  the  material  pai"t  of  the  miracle, 
 i.  e.  its  effect  in  satisfying  a  momentary  want,  and  its  formal 
 part,  as  a  sign  to  point  from  objects  of  sense  to  God,  and  to 
 accredit  himself  as  capable  of  satisfying  all  higher  spiritual 
 wants.  To  those  who  embraced  the  miracles  in  this  latter 
 sense,  properly  as  ar]^e\a,  he  freely  commimicated  himself;  and, 
 
 e  We  cannot  but  be  surprised  at  the  remark  of  De  Wefte,  Conim.  on 
 Matt.  2nd  ed.  p.  132  :  "If  Jesus  had  wished  to  express  this  thought,  he 
 would  have  uttered  nonsense — No  sign  shall  be  given  to  them,  but  still  given." 
 Christ  said  that  to  those  wlio  were  not  satisfied  by  his  whole  manifestation, 
 as  a  sign,  no  other  separate  sign  would  be  given  ;  how  could  anything  be  a 
 sign  for  them  to  whom  the  highest  sign  was  none  ?  The  words,  however, 
 do  wear  that  air  of  paradox  which  we  often  find  in  the  discourses  of 
 Christ. 
 
146  THE  MEAKS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 on  the  other  hand,  he  must  more  and  more  have  alienated 
 himself  from  those  who  attached  themselves  to  him  only  fi'om 
 a  momentary  interest  of  the  fonner  kind.  He  therefore  re- 
 proached those  who  eagerly  sotight  him  after  the  feeding  of 
 the  five  thousand,  by  saying  that  they  did  not  seek  him  be- 
 cause they  "  had  seen  the  miracles'''  {i.  e.  as  signs  to  lead  them 
 to  something  higher),  but  simply  because  their  human  wants 
 had  been  satisfied — "  Te  did  eat  of  the  loaves  and  were  filled'^ 
 The  light  of  his  works  (he  told  them)  was  not  sufficient  to 
 lead  them  to  believe  on  him,  inasmuch  as  they  lacked — what 
 was  essential  to  faith — a  sense  for  the  Divine.  The  gratifica- 
 tion of  their  natural  senses  was  aU  they  sought.  In  the  spirit 
 in  wliich  they  were,  faith  was  impossible  ;  their  preponderating 
 worldliness  of  mind,  subjugating  the  better  tendencies  of  their 
 natui'e,  left  room  for  no  sense  of  higher  wants,  and  prevented 
 them  from  feehng  the  inward  "  dravAng  of  the  FatJiei:"^ 
 
 §  95. — Oh-ist  appealed  to  the  Miracles  as  Testimonies  ;  John  xv.  24. — Iliree 
 
 different  Stages  of  Faith. 
 
 Although  Christ  appeals  (ia  John's  Gospel)  to  the  miracles 
 as  testimonies  of  his  works,  we  are  not  to  understand  him  as 
 appealing  to  them  simply  as  displays  of  power,  for  the  gx-ounds 
 akeady  stated.  Yet  he  does,  in  more  than  one  instance,  de- 
 clare them  to  be  signs,  in  the  world  of  sense,  of  a  higher  power, 
 designed  to  lead  minds  as  yet  imsusceptible  of  direct  spiiitual 
 impressions,  to  acknowledge  such  influences.  "If  I  had  not 
 done  among  them  the  works  which  none  other  man  did,  tliey  Ixad 
 not  had  sin."'^ 
 
 In  viewing  the  miracles  thus  as  means  of  awakening  and 
 strengthening  faith,  we  must  distinguish  difierent  stand-points 
 in  the  development  of  faith.  On  the  lowest  stage  stood  those 
 who,  instead  of  being  drawn  by  an  undeniable  want  of  their 
 spiiitual  nature,  inspii-ed  by  the  power  of  God  working  within 
 them,  had  to  be  attracted  by  a  feeling  of  physical  want,  and 
 by  impressions  made  upon  theii*  outward  senses.  Yet,  like  his 
 heavenly  Father,  whose  providence  leads  men  to  spiritual 
 things  even  by  means  of  their  physical  necessities,  Christ  con- 
 descended to  this  human  weakness,  sighing,  at  the  same  time, 
 that  such  means  should  be  indispensable  to  turn  men's  eyes 
 to  that  which  lies  nearest  to  their  spiritual  being.  "Except  ye 
 see  signs  and  wonders,  ye  wiU  not  believe."^ 
 
 A  higher  stage  was  occupied  by  those  who  were,  indeed,  led 
 
 ^  John  vi.  36,  44.  '  John  xv.  24,  •)  John  iv.  48. 
 
MIKACLES.  147 
 
 to  seek  the  Messiah  by  a  sense  of  spiritual  need,  but  whose 
 religious  feeHngs  were  debased  by  the  admrxtui-e  of  various 
 sensuoTis  elements.  As  these  were  yet  in  some  degree  in 
 bondage  to  sense,  and  sought  the  Saviour  without  perfectly 
 apprehending  him  as  the  object  of  their  search,  they  had  to  be 
 led  to  know  him  by  miracles  suited  to  then-  condition.  Such 
 was  the  case  with  the  Apostles  generally,  before  theu'  rehgious 
 feeHngs  were  purified  by  continued  personal  intercourse  with 
 Christ.  He  condescended  to  this  condition,  in  order  to  lead 
 men  from  it  to  a  higher  stage  of  rehgious  life ;  but  yet  repre- 
 sented it  as  subordinate  to  that  pui'er  stage  in  which  they 
 should  receive  the  whole  impression  of  his  person,  and  obtain 
 a  full  intuition  of  the  mode  in  which  God  dwelt  and  wrought 
 in  Him.  Jesus  said  unto  Nathanael,  "  Becaiise  I  said  I  saw 
 thee  under  the  Jig-tree,  helievest  thou  ?  Thou  shalt  see  greater 
 things  tlutn  tliese.  Hereafter  ye  shall  see  heaven  open,  and  the 
 angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  upon  the  Son  of  Man.'' ^ 
 
 A  far  loftier  stage  of  faith  was  that  which,  proceeding  from 
 an  inward  living  fountain,  did  not  wait  for  miracles  to  call  it 
 forth,  but  went  before  and  expected  them  as  natural  manifes- 
 tations of  the  already  acknowledged  God.  Such  a  presupposed 
 faith,  instead  of  being  summoned  by  the  miracles,  rather  simi- 
 moned  them,  as  did  the  pagan  centurion  whom  Christ  offered 
 to  the  Jews  as  a  model :  "  /  have  not  found  so  great  faith,  no, 
 not  in  Israel."^ 
 
 It  appears,  therefore,  that  Chiist  considered  that  to  be  the 
 highest  state  of  religious  development  in  which  faith  arose,  not 
 from  the  sensible  evidence  of  miracles,  but  from  an  immediate 
 Divine  impression  finding  a  point  of  contact  in  the  soul  itself 
 — from  a  direct  experience  of  that  wherein  alone  the  soul  could 
 fuUy  satisfy  its  wants ;  such  a  faith  as  testifies  to  previous  mo- 
 tions of  the  Divine  life  in  the  soul.  We  have  an  illustration  in 
 Peter,  who  expressed  his  profound  sense  of  the  blessings  that 
 had  flowed  to  him  fr'om  fellowship  with  Chiist,  in  his  acknow- 
 ledgment, "Thou  art  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.  And 
 Jesus  said  unto  him.  Blessed  aH  thou,  Simmi  Barjona,  fw  flesh 
 and  blood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  hut  my  Father  which  is 
 in  heaven.''^  This  acknowledgment  itself  might  have  been 
 made  by  Peter  at  an  earlier  period ;  but  the  ivay  in  which  he 
 made  it  at  that  critical  moment,  and  the  feeling  which  inspired 
 it,  showed  that  he  had  obtained  a  new  intuition  of  Christ  as 
 the   Son   of  God.     It  was  for  this  that   Christ  called  him 
 
 ^  Jolm  i.  50,  51.  '  Matt.  viii.  10.  "■  Matt.  xvi.  16,  17. 
 
 l2 
 
148  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST, 
 
 "  blessed,"  because  tbe  drawing  of  the  Father  had  led  him  to 
 the  Son,  and  the  Father  had  revealed  himself  to  him  in  the 
 Son.  Peter  made  his  confession,  at  that  time,  in  opposition  to 
 others,"  who  although  they  had  a  dawning  consciousness  of 
 Christ's  higher  nature,  did  not  yet  recognize  him  as  the  Son  of 
 God.  The  spii-it  in  wliich  he  made  it  is  iUustrated  by  a  similar 
 confession  made  by  him  in  view  of  the  defection  of  many  who 
 liad  been  led  by  "the  revelation  of  flesh  and  blood"  to  believe 
 in  Jesus,  and  had  afterward  abandoned  him,°  for  the  very 
 reason  that  theii*  faith  had  so  low  an  origin:  ^^ Lard,  to  irlvom 
 shall  we  go?  Titou  lubst  tJte  words  of  eternal  life.  And  toe  believe, 
 and  loe  are  sure  tJiat  tlum  art  tfiat  Christ,  the  Son  of  tlve  living 
 Godrv 
 
 And  so,  when  Tliomas  doubted,  Christ  condescended  to  give 
 him  a  visible  proof  of  his  resurrection  ;i  but  at  the  same  time 
 he  declared  that  that  was  a  liigher  faith  which  needed  no  such 
 siipport,  but  rested,  with  undoubting  confidence,  upon  the  in- 
 ward experience  of  Divine  manifestations.  "  Blessed  are  tJiey 
 that  have  not  seen,  and  yet  liave  helievedy 
 
 %  96. — The  Commmiication  of  the  Divine  Life  the  higluest  Mlra-clc. — 
 
 John  xiv.  12. 
 Finally,  the  words  of  Christ  himself  assure  us  tliat  the  com- 
 munication of  the  life  of  God  to  men  was  the  greatest  of  aU 
 miracle.?,  the  essence  and  the  aim  of  all ;  and,  further,  that  it 
 was  to  be  the  standing  miracle  of  all  after-ages.  "  He  tltat  be- 
 lieveth  on  me,  the  works  that  L  do  shall  he  do  also,  and  greater 
 works  tJmn  tJtese  sJtall  lie  do,  because  L  go  to  my  Fatlvei'.  A  nd 
 whatsoever  ye  sJudl  ask  in  my  name,  tJuit  will  L  do,  that  the 
 Father  may  be  glorified  in  tlie  Sonr  The  power  of  diffusing  the 
 Di\"ine  Ufe,  which  had  been  confined  to  him  alone,  was,  by 
 means  of  his  glorification,  to  be  extended  to  others,  and  to  as- 
 sume in  them  a  pecidiar  self-subsisting  form — the  mii-acle  which 
 was  to  be  wi'ought  among  all  men,  and  in  aU  time,  by  the 
 preaching  of  the  Gospel,  ["i/e  sludl  send  you  a^wtJter  Com- 
 forter, tli/U  Ice  may  abide  toith  you  for  ever,  even  the  Spirit  of 
 Truthr] 
 
 CHAPTER  VI. 
 
 THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST  CONSIDERED  IN  REGARD  TO  SUPER- 
 NATURAL AGENCY. 
 §  97- — Transition  from  the  Natural  to  the  Supeniativral  in  tJtc  Miracles. 
 It  has  been  asserted  in  modern  times,  that  in  order  to  re- 
 ceive mii'acles  at  all,  we  must  conceive  them  as  directly  and 
 "  Matt.  xvi.  14.       "  John  vi.  CG.       ''  John  vi.  C9.       i  John  xx.  27. 
 
THE  HEALING  OF  DISEASES.  149 
 
 abruptly  opposed  to  nature,  and  admit  no  intermediate  agencies 
 whatever.  But  we  cannot  be  confined  to  tliis  altei'native  by 
 men  who  wsh  to  caricature  the  views  which  we  maintain. 
 Abrupt  contrasts  may  Vje  set  up  in  abstract  theories;  but  in 
 real  life  we  do  not  find  them.  There  are  always  intermediate 
 agencies  and  points  of  transition.  And  why  should  this  not 
 be  the  case  in  the  opposition  between  the  natural  and  the 
 supernatural  1  We  think  that  we  have  ah'eady  shown  that  the 
 higher  unity  of  the  Di\-ine  plan  of  the  world  embraces  miracles 
 as  well  as  the  ordinary  development  of  nature.  We  hold  our- 
 selves justified,  therefore,  in  distinguishing,  with  regard  to  the 
 'marvellous  part  of  the  mu-acles,  certain  steps  of  transition  from 
 the  natural  to  the  supernatural.  Not  that  we  can  separate 
 these  gradations  so  nicely  as  to  constitute  a  division  of  the 
 mii'acles  thereby;  but  we  can  trace  an  important  harmony 
 with  the  universal  laws  of  the  Divine  government  of  the  world 
 in  the  fact  that  here,  too,  there  are  no  sudden  leaps,  but  a 
 gradual  transition  hj  intermediate  steps  thi'oughout. 
 
 Lookinof  at  all  the  miracles,  there  are  some  in  regard  to 
 wliich  it  may  be  doubted  whether  they  belong  to  the  class  of 
 natural  or  supernatural  events ;  on  the  other  side,  there  are 
 some  in  which  the  creative  power  is  exhibited  in  the  liighest 
 degree,  and  which  bear  no  analogy  whatever  to  the  results  of 
 natural  causes.  Between  these  extreme  classes,  there  are 
 many  miraculous  works  in  which  the  supernatural  can  be 
 made  vividly  obvious  by  means  of  natural  analogies.  To  these 
 last  belong  most  of  the  miracles  which  Christ  wi-ought  upon 
 human  nature  ;  whUe  those  wrought  upon  the  iiuitericd  world, 
 rejecting  all  natui-al  analogies,  may  be  ranged  under  the  second 
 extreme  class  above  mentioned.  The  latter  are  very  few  in 
 comparison  wdth  the  former,  and  far  less  intimately  connected 
 with  Christ's  peculiar  calling. 
 
 (A.)    CHRIST'S    MIRACLES    WROUGHT    UPON    HUMAN 
 NATURE. 
 
 I.    THE   HEALING   OP   DISEASES. 
 
 §  93. — Tlie  spiritual  Agencies  employed. — Faith  demanded  for  tlie  Cure. 
 
 Those  works  of  redeeming  love  which  Chiist  wi-ought  upon 
 
 the  human  body,  the  healing  of  diseases,  and  the  like,  displayed 
 
 the  peculiar  featm-e  of  his  whole  ministry.     The  ailments  of 
 
 the  body  are  closely  connected  -svith  those  of  the  soul  ;■■  and 
 
 '  It  ia  remarkable  that  great  plagues  often  spread  over  the  earth  pre- 
 cisely at  the  .same  time  w-ith  general  crises  in  the  intellectual  or  moral 
 world  ;  e.g.,  the  plague  at  Athens  and  the  Peloponnesian  war  ;  the  plagues 
 
150  THE  MEANS  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 even  if,  in  individual  cases,  ttis  cannot  be  proved,  yet  in  the 
 whole  progress  of  human  development  there  is  always  a  casual 
 connexion  between  sin  and  evil ;  between  the  disorganization 
 of  the  spirit  through  sin,  and  all  forms  of  bodily  disorder. 
 There  was  a  beautiful  connexion,  therefore,  between  Christ's 
 work  in  healing  the  lattei",  and  his  proper  calling  to  remove 
 the  fundamental  disease  of  hiunan  nature,  and  to  restore  its 
 original  harmony,  disturbed  by  sin. 
 
 Some  of  these  diseases,  also,  arose  purely  from  moral  causes, 
 and  coidd  be  thoroughly  cured  only  by  moral  and  spiritual 
 remedies.  Little  as  ■«!  e  know  of  the  connexion  between  the 
 mind  and  the  body,  we  know  enough  to  make  it  in  some  degree 
 clear  to  us  how  an  extraordinary  Divine  impression  might 
 produce  remarkable  effects  in  the  bodily  organism. 
 
 We  do  not  mean,  however,  by  this  remark,  to  bring  all  such 
 influences  down  (as  some  have  done)  into  the  sphere  of  the 
 purely  subjective.  It  is  true  that  a  natural  power,  highly 
 intensified,  might  produce  effects  closely  resembling  the  super- 
 natural ;  it  is  true  that  the  imagination,  strongly  stimulated 
 and  exalted,  often  works  strange  wonders  ;  but  we  have  to  do 
 here  only  with  efiects  vv'hich  must  be  attributed  to  higher 
 causes,  which  must  be  due  to  an  objective  Divine  agency.  In 
 the  cases  to  which  we  refer  (as,  indeed,  in  all  cases),  the  objec- 
 tive and  siibjective  factors  coxdd  co-operate  ;  the  Di\Tne  in- 
 fluence of  Christ  upon  the  soul,  and,  through  it,  upon  the 
 bodily  oi'ganism,  could  work  together  with  the  susceptibility 
 to  impression,  the  o'eceptivity  (so  to  speak),  on  the  part  of  man. 
 Hence  it  was  that  Christ  demanded  a  special  Faith  as  a  neces- 
 saiy  condition  of  his  healing  agency ;  indeed,  we  can  find  no 
 instance  of  his  working  a  mu-acle  where  a  hostile  tendency  of 
 mind  prevailed. 
 
 We  can  conceive  of  bodily  cures  thus  wrought  by  means  of 
 spiritual  influences  more  readily  than  any  others ;  and  they 
 correspond  precisely  with  the  laws  which  Christ's  operations 
 have  never  ceased  to  follow.  But  we  cannot  bring  all  the 
 instances  of  healing  which  he  ^vl•ought  under  this  class ;  some 
 of  them  were  wrought  at  a  distance,  and  ofler  no  point  of 
 departure  of  this  kind.  And  as  we  are  compelled  to  admit,  in 
 some   of  the  miracles,  immediate   operations   upon   material 
 
 xinder  the  Antonines  and  under  Decius  ;  the  labcs  inguinaria  at  the  end  of 
 the  sixth  century  ;  the  ignis  sacer  in  the  eleventh  ;  tlie  hlach  death  in  the 
 fourteenth,  &c.  That  great  man,  Nichuhr,  whose  letters  contain  so  many 
 golden  truths,  alluded  to  this  coincidence  in  another  connexion, — Leben, 
 ii.  167. 
 
PXJNITIVE  JUSTICE.  151 
 
 nature,  we  are  tlie  less  authorized  to  deny  that  such  direct 
 influences  were  exerted  upon  the  bodily  organism. 
 
 §  99. — Use  of  Physical  Agencies  m  the  Cwre  of  Diseases. 
 
 Christ  employed  his  miraculous  power  in  various  modes  of 
 operation.  He  operated  by  his  immediate  presence,  by  the 
 power  of  that  Di\Tne  "v\'ill  which  exercised  its  influence  through 
 his  word  and  his  whole  manifestation  ;  and  this  in  the  veiy 
 cases  in  which  we  might  admit  a  bodily  cure  by  the  use  of 
 physical  agencies.  Sometimes,  indeed,  there  was  besides  a 
 material  application,  e.  g.,  the  contact  of  the  hand.  In  other 
 cases  he  made  use  of  material  substances,  and  even  of  such  as 
 were  thought  to  be  possessed  of  healing  virtues,  as,  in  blind- 
 ness, of  saliva,^  water,'  and  anointing  -svith  oil. 
 
 But  in  these  cases  the  means  were  too  disproportionate  to 
 the  results,  for  us  to  imagine  that  they  were  natui-ally  capable 
 of  producing  them ;  and  as  Christ  did  not  always  employ 
 them,  there  is  no  room  to  suppose  that  they  were  necessary  as 
 vehicles  of  his  healing  power — a  supposition  which  brings  the 
 miracles  too  far  do"\\Ti  into  the  sphere  of  merely  physical 
 agencies.  "We  must  rather  presuppose  that  as  Christ,  in  his 
 teaching,  &c.,  took  up  the  forms  in  common  use  among  men  to 
 Avork  out  something  higher  from  them,  so  he  allowed  his 
 powers  of  healing  to  exhibit  themselves  in  the  use  ot  these 
 ordinary  means  in  a  symbolical  way.  He  may  have  designed 
 thereby  to  bestow  some  peculiar  lessons  of  instruction. 
 
 The  cm-es  wi'ought  at  a  distance  do  not  admit  of  this 
 material  connecting  link  ;  but  the  operations  of  Christ's  will 
 could  overstep  all  the  barriers  of  space. 
 
 §  100. — Tlie  Rdation  ietween  Sin  and  Physical  Evil. — Jewish  Idea  of 
 Punitive  Justice. — Christ's  Doctnnc  on  the  Subject. 
 
 We  must  now  examine  Christ's  miracles  of  healing  in  theii* 
 moral  aspects,  and  in  then*  connexion  "uith  his  ministry  as 
 Eedeemer.  If  it  can  be  shown  that  all  those  disturbances  of 
 the  bodily  organism,  which  we  call  diseases,  have  their  origin 
 in  Sin,  as  the  soui'ce  of  all  discord  in  himian  natui'e,  we  may 
 infer  that  there  is  a  close  connexion  between  these  miracles 
 and  his  proper  calling ;  and  that,  in  healing  the  diseases  pro- 
 duced by  sin,  by  means  of  his  influence  upon  the  essential 
 natm'e  of  the  distiu'bed  organism,  he  displayed  himself  also  as 
 the  Redeemer  from  sin.     In  many  cases,  also,  we  may  find  the 
 
 '  Pli/a.  Hist.  Natur.  xxviii.  7.  *  Mark  viii.  ;  John  is. 
 
152  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 physical  and  the  moral  cure  reciprocally  operating  upon  each 
 other. 
 
 The  question  first  occurs,  In  what  relation  does  Chri.st  him- 
 self place  disease  to  sin  ?  This  question  is  connected  -wdth  the 
 broader  one,  In  what  relation  to  sin  does  he  place  physical 
 evil  in  general?  In  Luke  v.  20,  and  John  v.  14,  he  seems  to 
 assign  a  special  connexion  between  sin  and  certain  diseases  as 
 its  punishments ;  but  other  expressions  of  his  appear  to  con- 
 tradict such  a  connexion.  To  soh-e  this  difficulty,  we  must  not 
 only  distinguish  the  different  aims  of  these  several  expressions, 
 but  also  discriminate  between  the  true  and  the  false  in  the 
 modes  of  thinking  prevalent  among  the  Jews. 
 
 The  doctrine  that  sin  is  guilt,  and  that  the  Di\dne  holiness 
 reveals  itself  in  opposition  to  sin,  as  punitive  justice,  is  one  of 
 the  characteristics  of  the  religion  of  the  Old  Testament  in  its 
 relations  to  the  various  shapes  of  natural  religion.  Punitive 
 justice  displays  itself  in  the  estabHshed  connexion  between  sin 
 and  exi],  in  consequence  of  which  the  sinful  vnl\  that  rebels  in 
 act  against  the  Di\'ine  law  must  be  compelled,  through  sufler- 
 ing,  actually  to  acknowledge  that  law,  and  to  humble  itself 
 befoi'e  its  majesty.  According  to  this  \iew  of  the  world, 
 which  subordinates  the  natural  to  the  moral,  all  evil  is  to  be 
 attributed  to  sin ;  it  shows  itself  to  the  soid  estranged  from 
 God  as  belonging  to,  and  connected  with  sin ;  the  consciousness 
 that  sin  is  opposed  to  the  Di^-ine  order  of  nature  is  developed 
 by  sufferings  ;  and  thus  sm  appears,  even  to  the  sinner,  to  be 
 desei-ving  of  punishment.  All  liistory  proves  that  the  conse- 
 quences of  bad  actions,  as  well  as  of  good  ones,  operate  for 
 generations ;  all  histoiy  testifies  that  '•  God  is  a  jealous  God, 
 visiting  the  iniquities  of  ilie  fathers  tipon  tlie  children  to  the  third 
 and  fourth  generation."  We  can  see  tliis  especially  in  the  a-ises 
 of  the  liistoiy  of  nations,  by  tracing  them  to  their  preparatoiy 
 causes.  The  history  of  the  Jewish  nation,  particularly,  was 
 designed  to  exhibit  this  uni\'ersal  law  in  miniatui-e,  but  A^th 
 striking  distinctness. 
 
 To  this  conception  of  the  punitive  justice  of  God,  as  difi- 
 playing  itself  in  the  progress  of  history  and  in  the  course  of 
 generations,  a  contracted  Theodicy  had  joined  itself,  which 
 arrogantly  assumed  to  apply  the  universal  law  to  special  cases." 
 
 "  The  fact  that  this  view  was  maintained  by  the  carnally  disposed,  and 
 that  the  later  Jewish  history  often  apparently  reversed  the  connexion 
 l)etween  sin  and  evil,  piety  and  happiness,  gave  rise,  subsequently,  to  an 
 Ebionitish  reaction,  which  maintained,  that  in  this  world,  belonging  as  it 
 
pCmtive  justice.  153 
 
 The  book  of  Job  bad  ab-eacly  refuted  this  contracted  view ;  and 
 Chi'ist  liimself  opposed  it ;  taking,  however,  the  basis  of  truth 
 which  was  found  in  the  Okl  Testament,  purifying  it  from  foreign 
 admixtures  of  error,  and  giving  it  a  fuller  development  J 
 
 The  doctrine  of  punitive  justice  was  in  no  degree  impugned 
 by  the  new  and  lofty  prominence  which  Christ  gave  to  the 
 Redeeming  love  of  God  ;  on  the  contraxy,  the  latter  doctrine 
 presupposed  the  former,  but  at  the  same  time  gave  it  peculiar 
 modifications.  And  as  Christ  teaches  us  that  aU  human  events 
 are  subservient  to  the  manifestation  of  redeeming  love,  the 
 highest  aim  of  God's  moral  government,  it  follows  that  the 
 connexion  between  siu  and  physical  evil,  ordained  by  Divine 
 justice,  must  serve  the  same  great  end.  The  universal  e,\i\ 
 introduced  by  sin  is  so  distribvited  in  detail  as  to  aid  in  pre- 
 paring the  SOU  of  men's  hearts  to  receive  and  appropriate 
 redemption  and  salvation,  and  in  fm'ther  purifying  the  hearts 
 of  those  who  have  already  become  partakers  of  the  Divine 
 life. 
 
 There  are  two  passages  in  which  Christ  contradicts,  in  the 
 one  negatively  and  in  the  other  positively,  the  contracted  \\qw 
 of  punitive  justice,  before  referred  to. 
 
 The  negative  contradiction  is  given  in  Luke  xiii.  2,  4  : 
 "  Supiwse  ye  that  these  Galileans  loei-e  sinners  above  all  the  Gali- 
 leans, because  they  suffered  such  things  ?  I  tell  you,  nay  ;  but 
 except  ye  repent,  ye  sJudl  all  likewise  p>^'>'ish-  Or  those  eighteen, 
 vpon  lohom  the  tower  of  Siloamfell,  and  slew  them,  think  ye  that 
 they  were  sinners  above  all  men  tluxt  dwelt  in  Jerusalem  f  In 
 this  passage  Christ  teaches  that  the  evil  that  befel  the  indi- 
 viduals did  not  necessarily  measiu"e  their  individual  guilt,  but 
 that  their  pax-tieular  suflferiiigs  v/ere  to  be  traced  back  to  the 
 general  guilt  of  the  nation. 
 
 The  jx>sitive  contradiction  is  found  in  Johnix.  2,  3  :  "3f aster, 
 wJw  did  sin,  this  man  or  his  parents,  that  lie  was  born  blind  ? 
 Jesus  answered,  Neither  hath  this  man  sinned,  nor  his  parents  ; 
 but  that  tlie  luorks  of  God  shoidd  be  made  manifest  in  him.'" 
 Here  he  rebukes  the  presupposition  that  the  calamity  of  the 
 indi\'idual  sufferer  was  to  be  referred  to  sins  committed  by 
 his  ancestors,  and  brings  out,  in  sti'ong  contrast  with  it,  that 
 
 does  to  Satan,  the  wicked  have  possession  of  the  goods  of  this  life,  while 
 poverty  and  pain  must  be  the  lot  of  the  pious  ;  and  that  this  state  of  things 
 will  only  be  compensated  in  the  Millennium,  or  in  the  life  to  come.    Christ's 
 truth  opposes  both  these  false  \-iew.'?. 
 ^  Luke  xiii.  4. 
 
154  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 Almighty  love  wliicli  shows  itself  even  by  so  distributiBg  phy- 
 sical evil  as  to  train  men  for  salvation.''^ 
 
 We  interpret,  in  accordance  with  this  view,  the  explanations 
 which  Christ  gave  in  several  cases  of  a  relation  between  dis- 
 ease and  siu,  and  between  healing  and  the  pardon  of  sin.  He 
 referred  either  to  the  general  connexion,  through  which  all 
 evil  was  intended  to  call  forth  the  consciousness  of  sin  ;  or  to  a 
 closer  connexion,  in  indi"\T.dual  cases,  between  a  given  misfor- 
 tune and  a  specific  sin.  The  relation  between  the  bodily  cure 
 and  the  pardon  of  sin  was  still  closer.^ 
 
 n.   DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION. 
 
 The  connexion,  of  which  we  have  spoken,  between  sin  and 
 evil,  must  be  especially  predicated  of  those  forms  of  disease 
 which,  view  them  as  we  may,  exhibited  a  moral  wreck,  not 
 only  of  the  individual  sufferers,  but  of  the  age  in  which  they 
 lived ;  and  which  admitted  no  means  of  perfect  ciu'e  except 
 moral  influences.  We  mean  the  'psychical  diseases,  the  suf- 
 ferings of  the  so-called  Demoniacs. 
 
 §  101. — Two  Theories  of  the  Affliction:    (a)  Possession  hy  Evil  Spirits; 
 (6)  Insanity. — Analogous  Phenomena  in  other  Times. 
 
 There  are  two  points  of  view,  opposed  to  each  other,  but  yet, 
 perhaps,  admitting  of  an  intermediate  ground,  in  wliich  we  may 
 contemplate  these  forms  of  disease  ;  they  may  have  oiiginated 
 either  (a)  from  internal  causes  in  the  soid  itself,  or  (b)  from 
 causes  entirely  outward  and  supernatural.  Those  who  adopt 
 the  first  view  confine  their  attention  to  the  chai'acteristic 
 symptoms  as  reported,  and  compare  them  with  the  veiy  si- 
 milar ailments,  the  diseases  of  the  mind  and  of  the  nervous 
 system,  which  not  only  existed  in  that  age,  but  have  ap- 
 peared at  all  subsequent  periods-^  Those  who  strictly  adopt 
 the  latter  \iew  adhere  closely  to  the  letter  of  the  narrative, 
 and  make  no  attempt  to  distinguish  what  is  objective  in  it 
 from  what  is  subjective;  but  see  in  the  miserable  demoniacs 
 only  passive  instruments  of  evil  spuits. 
 
 If,  in  accordance  with  this  view,  we  admit  no  intermediate 
 agency,  but  ascribe  the  phenomena  immediately  to  evil  spirits, 
 the  cures  must  be  directly  attributed  to  Clu'ist's  dominion 
 over  the  jjowers  of  the  other  world  ;  thus  sti'ikingly  showing 
 his  supernatural  control  over  a  supernatural  cause  of  disease. 
 
 "  We  shall  examine  this  explanation  again  in  its  proper  place  in  the 
 narrative.  ^  Matt.  ix.  2-5. 
 
 y  Similar  diseases,  occurring  in  the  first  centuries,  were  explained  in  this 
 way  by  the  physicians. — Orig.  in  Matt.  xiii.  §  6. 
 
DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION.  155 
 
 And,  on  the  other  hand,  if  we  class  these  phenomena  with 
 diseases  of  the  mind  in  general,  and  consider  the  supposed 
 indwelling  of  evil  spirits  only  as  a  symptom  grounded  on  na- 
 tural causes,  we  shall  more  readily  be  able  to  conceive  how 
 a  disease  arising  entirely,  or  at  least  chiefly,  from  a  psychical 
 cause,  could  be  cured  by  a  pui-ely  psychical  agency.  Nor 
 would  this  in  the  least  degree  deny,  or  even  detract  from, 
 the  miraculous  character  of  Christ's  acts ;  for  to  restore  a 
 raving  maniac  to  reason  by  a  look  or  a  word  was  sm-ely  beyond 
 all  natural  psychological  influence,  and  presupposed  powers 
 transcending  all  ordinary  agencies.  It  is  true,  we  find  analo- 
 gous cases  in  later  times,  in  which  great  things  were  wrought 
 by  immediate  Divine  impressions,  and  by  devout  prayer  in  the 
 name  of  Chi'ist.^ 
 
 Not  only  at  the  time  of  Christ's  appearance,  but  also  in  the 
 centuries  immediately  following,=»  many  forms  of  disease  like 
 those  called  demoniacal  in  the  New  Testament  were  spread 
 abroad  ;  and  we  may  infer  that  the  same  cause  was  at  work  in 
 both  periods. 
 
 §  102. — Connexion  of  the  Phenomena  with  the  State  of  ilie  Times. — Cvor 
 ceptions  of  tlie  Jews  in  regard  to  them :  of  tJie  Demoniacs  themselves. 
 
 The  diseases  of  the  mind  iu  every  age  bear  the  stamp,  to 
 some  degi'ee,  of  the  prevailing  tendencies  and  ideas  of  the 
 times  ;  and  those  to  which  we  refer  reflected  the  peciiliar 
 and  predominant  features  of  the  Jewish  mind  of  that  age. 
 The  wretched  demoniacs  seemed  to  be  hunied  onward  by  a 
 strange  and  hostile  power  that  subjugated  their  intellectual. 
 and  moral  being,  and  whose  chief  characteristic,  as  displayed 
 
 ^  We  must  not  take  the  spirit  of  an  age  of  materialism  or  rationalism  as 
 a  rule  for  judging  of  aU  phenomena  of  the  ^yxv,  which  veils  within  itself 
 the  Infinite ;  which  is  capable  of  such  manifold  excitement ;  and  whose 
 various  powers  are  alternately  dormant  and  active — now  one  prevailing, 
 and  now  another.  An  age  may  be  destitute  of  certain  phenomena  and 
 experiences,  because  it  has  no  organs  for  developing  them ;  and  this  would 
 prove  nothing  against  their  reaUty. 
 
 Although  I  can  hardly  think  it  possible  that  the  view  given  in  the  text, 
 taken  in  connexion  with  the  general  principles  of  this  book,  can  be  mis- 
 understood, yet,  in  order  to  guard  against  a  possible  misinterpretation,  I 
 deem  it  best  to  add,  that  it  was  far  from  my  intention  to  do  away  with  the 
 distinction  between  the  natural  and  the  supernatural,  or  to  trace  the  latter 
 entirely  to  the  development  of  powers  inherent  in  the  ipvxv-  I  wished 
 only  to  point  out  the  organ,  the  point  of  contact,  in  the  ^pvxv,  for  super- 
 natural communications  and  influences ;  to  show  that  it  is  itself  superna- 
 tural in  its  hidden  essence,  which  looks  forward  to  be  unfolded  hereafter  in 
 the  higher  world  to  which  it  is  allied. 
 
 *  As  seen  in  the  Fathers,  and  in  Lucian's  PMlopseudes. 
 
156  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 in  their  paroxysms,  was  a  wild  and  savage  destructiveness. 
 The  Jews  explained  these  phenomena  according  to  their  own 
 notions,  and  especially  by  the  general  opinion  that  man  was 
 surrounded  on  every  side  by  the  operations  of  evil  spirits,  who 
 were  the  authors  of  both  moral  and  physical  evil.^'  And  as  a 
 fierce  destnictiveness  was  considered  to  be  characteristic  of 
 these  spirits,  the  condition  of  the  demoniacs  was  a.scribed  to 
 their  heing  possessed  by  one  or  more  of  them.'^ 
 
 The  diseased  persons  themselves  involuntarily  conceivetl  of 
 their  own  exj^erience  according  to  the  prevalent  opinion,  and 
 their  expressions,  literally  taken,  contributed  to  confirm  it. 
 Everything  ii'rational  which  suggested  itself  to  them  appeared 
 to  their  consciousness  as  the  work  and  the  will  of  the  in- 
 dwelling evil  spirit.  They  conceived  themselves,  in  fact,  as 
 possessed  of  two  natures,  viz.,  their  i-eal  proper  being  (the  true 
 /),  and  the  eviL  spirit  which  subjugated  the  other ;  and  thus 
 it  hapj^ened  that  they  spoke  in  the  person  of  the  e\di  spirit, 
 with  which  they  felt  themselves  blended  into  one,  even  in  in- 
 stincts and  propensities  utterly  repugnant  to  their  tnie  nature. 
 The  sense  of  inward  discord  and  distraction  might  rise  to 
 such  a  height  as  to  induce  the  behef  that  they  were  pos- 
 sessed by  a  number  of  spirits,  to  whom  they  were  compelled 
 to  lend  their  utterance. 
 
 We  may  find  a  reason  for  the  remarkable  prevalence  of  such 
 phenomena  at  that  time,  not  only  among  the  Jews,  but  also 
 throughout  the  Roman  Empire,  in  the  character  of  the  age 
 itself  It  was  an  age  of  spiritual  and  physical  distress,  of 
 manifold  and  violent  disruptions  ;  such  as  characterize  those 
 critical  epochs  in  the  history  of  the  world  at  which,  from  the 
 dissolution  of  all  existing  things,  a  new  creation  is  about  to 
 unfold  itself  The  sway  of  Demonism  was  a  sign  of  the  ap- 
 proaching dissolution  of  the  Old  World. '^     Its  phenomena — 
 
 ''  Some  have  attrilmted  the  prevalence  of  this  opinion  to  an  admixture 
 of  Persian  religious  doctrines  ;  but  it  had  a  far  deeper  ground  in  the  reli- 
 gious spirit  of  the  age.  It  arose  fiom  the  sense  of  discord  which  penetrated 
 the  wholi^  mind  of  that  time,  and  wliich  was  reflected  in  the  doctrine  of 
 Dualism,  then  so  extensively  prevailing. 
 
 •^  We  agree  with  Strauss,  that,  according  to  the  Jewish  mode  of  thinking, 
 tlie  interference  of  evil  spirits  must  be  really  supposed,  and  that  the  views 
 ofJosephus  (B.  J.  vii.  6,  3:  r«  yap  KaXou^iwa  oaifiovia  Trovijpaiv  toriv  Jm 
 avOpwTciov  Tri'tvfiaTa,  rolv  'Cuimv  ticrcvoinvn)  were  modified  by  his  Greek  ^ 
 ctilture.  At  a  later  period,  when  Oriental  influences  were  more  felt,  the 
 idea  ot  demons,  as  spirits  allied  to  matter,  or  as  h\q>ostatic  emanations  from 
 the  vXri,  was  common  even  among  the  educated  Hellenists. 
 
 •■  Schclling's  remark  on  this  subject,  in  his  "Philosophical  Inquiries  into 
 
DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION.  157 
 
 sjonptoms  of  the  universally-felt  discord — were  among  the 
 signs  of  the  times  which  pointed  to  the  coming  of  the  Re- 
 deemer, who  was  to  change  that  discord  into  harmony.  The 
 insatiable  craving  of  want  is  always  a  precursor  of  the  ap- 
 proaching supply. 
 
 §  103. — Accommodation  oftJie  two  extreme  TJteories. 
 
 If  now  the  question  be  asked  whether  these  phenomena  are 
 to  be  considered  as  wholly  natural  or  as  supernatural,  we 
 answer,  that  these  two  extreme  views  may  be  more  or  less 
 abruptly  opposed  to  each  other.  On  the  one  hand,  we  may 
 asci-ibe  the  origin  of  the  disease  to  natural  causes,  and  judge  of 
 the  symptoms  accordingly,  without  excluding  the  operation  of 
 the  other  concealed  cause  ;  the  question  whether  such  a  cause 
 existed  or  not,  can  be  by  no  means  decided  merely  by  the 
 symptoms. 
 
 Christ  teaches  that  all  wickedness,  and  all  evil  in  its  con- 
 nexion with  wickedness,  must  be  traced  back  to  a  higher 
 cause — to  a  Spirit  ^  that   fii-st    rebelled   against  God,  to  an 
 
 the  Nature  of  Human  Freedom,"  is  worthy  of  note  :  "The  time  is  coming 
 when  all  this  splendour  will  be  dissolved  ;  when  the  existing  body  of  this 
 fair  world  will  fall  to  pieces,  and  chaos  come  again.  But  before  the  final 
 wreck,  the  all-pervading  powers  assume  the  nature  of  evil  spirits  ;  the  very 
 powers  which  in  the  sounder  time  were  the  protecting  spirits  of  life,  become, 
 a.s  dissolution  draws  on,  agents  of  mischief  and  destruction." 
 
 '  If  it  could  be  proved  that  Christ  had  only  taken  up  the  doctrine  of  the 
 existence  of  Satan  by  way  oi formal  acconunodation  (p.  118),  the  question 
 of  the  demoniacs  would  be  at  once  decided.  It  cannot  be  denied  that  in 
 many  of  his  expressions  we  might  substitute,  for  Satan,  the  objective  notion 
 of  einl,  vrithout  at  all  affecting  the  thought.  We  might,  indeed,  admit  that 
 he  used  the  doctrine  (borrowed  from  the  circle  of  popular  ideas)  merely  as 
 a  figurative  covering  for  evil,  if  he  himself  had  anywhere  intimated  that  he 
 did  not  intend  thereby  to  confirm  the  view  of  the  origin  of  evil  which  the 
 popular  notion  involved ;  just  as  we  showed  fro7n  Ms  own  woreh,  that,  in 
 transferring  the  popular  figures  to  his  Messianic  kingdom,  he  did  distin- 
 guish between  the  substantial  truth  and  its  formal  covering.  But  this  is 
 by  no  means  the  case  here.  There  is  not  a  vestige  of  evidence  in  his  con- 
 versations with  his  disciples  to  show  that  he  did  not  mtend  to  establish  the 
 doctrine  that  a  higher  intelligence,  estranged  from  God,  was  the  original  source 
 of  evil.  Neither  can  we  class  this  question  (as  some  do)  among  those  which 
 have  no  bearing  on  the  interests  of  religion,  and  which  Christ's  mission  did 
 not  require  him  to  interfere  with  ;  our  conception  of  evil  will  be  very 
 different  if  we  confine  it  to  human  nature,  from  what  it  would  be,  if  we 
 admit  its  existence  also  in  spirits  of  a  higher  order. 
 
 In  John  viii.  44,  Christ  gives  a  perfectly  defined  conception  of  Satan  ; 
 he  designates  him  as  "the  Spirit  aUenated  from  ti'uth  and  goodness  (for, 
 .according  to  John's  usage,  dXi^Qiia  inrolves  both  the  true  and  the goocl),  in 
 whom  felsehood  and  wickechiess  have  become  a  second  nature  ;  who  can 
 find  no  abiding  place  in  the  truth."     The  revelation  of  truth  which  the 
 
158  THE  MIRACLES  OP  CHRIST. 
 
 Original  Sin,  wliicli  gave  birtli  to  tlie  first  germ  of  wickedness. 
 As  lie  lays  down  a  certain  connexion  between  the  various. 
 stages  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  so  he  assigns  a  similar  connexion 
 between  all  the  manifestaciot^  of  the  powers  of  evil.  It  is 
 thus,  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  teaching  of  Christ,  that  we 
 ascribe  those  fearful  disturbances  of  the  corporeal,  spiritual 
 organism  (in  which  the  might  of  the  principle  of  sin  in  human 
 nature  and  the  moral  degeneracy  of  that  nature  are  so  strik- 
 ingly exhibited),  to  the  general  kingdom  of  the  E\'il  One. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  in  admitting  the  higher  and  concealed 
 cause,  we  need  not  necessarily  conceive  it  as  operating  in  a 
 magical  way,  without  any  preparation.  A  preparation,  a  point 
 of  contact  in  the  psychological  development,  is  by  no  means 
 excluded  by  such  an  admission,  but,  as  is  the  case  in  all  influ- 
 ences wi'ought  upon  man's  inner  nature,  rather  presupposed. 
 In  every  instance  we  both  can  and  ought  to  distinguish  the 
 symptoms  of  these  diseases  (as  stated  in  the  narrative)  which 
 arose  from  the  hidden  cause,  from  those  which  might  have 
 
 spirits  were  to  receive  from  communion  witli  the  Father  of  Spirits  passes 
 by  him  unheeded ;  he  cannot  receive  and  hold  it  fast,  because  he  has  no 
 organ  to  embrace  it,  no  susceptibility  for  its  impressions.  Christ  tells  the 
 Pharisees  that  they,  serving  the  Spirit  of  Lies,  and  living  in  communion 
 with  him,  showed  themselves,  by  the  spirit  which  their  actions  manifested, 
 to  be  children  of  Satan,  i-ather  than  of  Abraham  and  God.  Schleiermacher' s 
 attempt  to  prove  (Works,  iii.  §  45,  p.  21i)  that  even  in  this  passage  the  idea 
 of  a  personal  Satan  is  untenable,  is  by  no  means  su  jcessful.  ' '  This  passage, ' ' 
 says  he,  "  cannot  be  interpreted  througliout  on  the  theory  of  the  reality  of 
 the  devil,  without  either  opposing  the  devil  to  God  in  the  Manichtean 
 sense,  or  else  calling  Christ  the  Son  of  God  in  the  sime  extended  significa- 
 tion in  which  the  Pharisees  are  called  Sons  of  the  Devil. ' '  The  argmnent 
 is  unsuccessful,  we  say,  because  the  proper  point  of  comparison  would  be, 
 iwt  the  sense  in  which  Christ  can  be  called  the  Son  of  God,  but  the  sense 
 in  which  pious  men  could  be  so  called  ;  and  in  a  comparison  it  is  not  neces- 
 sary that  all  the  relations  should  be  adequate,  but  only  those  which  are 
 common  to  the  point  of  comparison  itself. 
 
 Nor  can  we  admit  that  Christ,  in  making  use  of  the  current  doctrine  as 
 a  covering  for  his  own,  added  nothing  new  to  it.  It  is  true  that  he  made 
 no  disclosures  on  the  subject  to  satisfy  the  speculative  curiosity  of  science, 
 but  here,  as  elsewhere,  made  his  communications  only  to  meet  practical 
 wants.  It  is,  however,  precisely  in  the  region  of  practical  religion  that 
 the  doctrine  of  the  personality  of  Satan  was  newly  modified  by  its  connec- 
 tion with  the  doctrine  of  Jesus,  as  the  author  of  salvation.  As  for  the 
 passages  in  which  "evil,"  might  be  substituted  for  "  Satan,"  it  is  enough  to 
 say,  that  after  the  existence  of  such  an  intelligence,  the  first  reliel  a;^ainbt 
 God,  had  been  given  as  a  fact,  it  was  natural  to  employ  him  as  the  repre- 
 sentative of  evil  in  general.  Wo  may  use  "Sa.ten"  as  a  symbol  for 
 wickedness  in  general,  without  implying  any  tiling  against  the  doctrine,  of 
 his  personal  existence. — See  p.  78- 
 
DEMONIACAL  POSSESSION.  159 
 
 originated  in  the  cui-rent  opinions  of  tlie  times,  or  in  the  peculiar 
 psychological  condition  of  the  sufferers  themselves.  In  either 
 case  we  shall  have  to  ascribe  the  radical  cure,  which  Christ 
 alone  covUd  accomplish,  to  the  operation  of  his  Spirit  upon  the 
 evil  piinciple  in  the  man  liimself. 
 
 §  104. — Christ's  Explanations  of  Demonism  purely  Spiritual. — Sis  Accom- 
 modation to  the  Conceptions  of  the  Demoniacs. 
 
 It  is  important  to  inquire  whether  Chi'ist  assigned,  in  express 
 words,  any  definite  view  of  the  origin  of  these  diseases,  or 
 established  any  view  by  taking  it  as  a  point  of  departure. 
 That  he  did  not  dispute  the  cuiTent  opinion,  does  not  prove 
 that  he  participated  in  it;  this  wovdd  have  been  one  of  those 
 errors,  not  affecting  the  interests  of  religion,  which  his  mission 
 did  not  require  him  to  correct.  Apai-t  from  its  moral  ground, 
 it  belongs  to  the  domain  of  science,  wliich  is  left  to  its  own 
 independent  development — to  natm-al  philosophy,  psychology, 
 or  medicine ;  sciences  entu-ely  foreign  to  the  sphere  of  Christ's 
 immediate  calling  as  a  teacher,  although  they  might  derive 
 fruitful  germs  of  tnith  from  it.  It  was  his  pecvdiar  office  only 
 to  reveal  to  men  the  moral  ground  of  both  general  and  special 
 evil,  and  thus  to  comdnce  them  that  its  thorough  cm-e  could 
 be  effected  only  by  influences  A\T.'ought  upon  the  principle  of 
 moral  corruption  in  which  it  originated.  In  order  to  this,  the 
 doctrine  that  these  diseases  were  caused  by  indwelling  evil 
 spirits  could  be  made  use  of  as  a  point  of  departm-e,  especially 
 as  the  truth  of  the  idea  of  a  kingdom  of  Satan,  in  its  moral 
 sense,  was  pre-supposed. 
 
 In  regard  to  Christ's  accommodation  to  the  conceptions 
 which  the  demoniacs  themselves  had  of  their  own  condition, 
 our  remarks  in  another  place  (p.  118)  in  reference  to  the  dis- 
 tinction between  formal  and  material  accommodation,  are  not 
 fully  applicable.  The  law  of  veracity,  in  the  intercourse  of 
 beings  in  possession  of  reason,  does  not  hold  good  where  the 
 essential  conditions  of  rational  intercourse  are  done  away.  In 
 such  cases,  language  obeys  its  natm-al  laws  only  in  proportion 
 as  tlie  use  of  reason  itself  is  re-established. 
 
 There  lay  a  profoimd  truth  at  the  bottom  of  the  demoniac's 
 consciousness  that  his  feelings,  incUnations,  and  words  did  not 
 spring  from  his  rational,  God-allied  nature  (his  true  /),  but 
 from  a  foreign  power  belonging  to  the  kingdom  of  the  devil, 
 which  had  subjugated  the  former.  And  this  ti-uth  offered  the 
 necessary  point  of  contact  for  the  operation  of  Christ's  spiritual 
 mfluence  to  aid  the  soid,  which  longed  to  be  delivered  from  its 
 
160  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 distraction  and  freed  from  its  ignominious  bondage.  In  the 
 mind  of  the  demoniac,  the  fundamental  ti-uth  was  insepai-able 
 fi'om  the  f<yrm  in  which  he  conceived  it;  it  was,  therefore, 
 necessary  to  seize  upon  the  latter,  in  order  to  develop  the 
 former. 
 
 §  105. — Difference  hetween  Christ's  Healing  of  the  Demoniacs  and  the  Opera- 
 tions of  the  Jewish  Exorcists. 
 
 Tlie  so-called  Excyrcists  were  at  that  time  practising  among 
 the  Jews  their  pretended  art  of  expelling  demons;  an  ai-t 
 which  they  afiected  to  derive  from  Solomon.^  The  means 
 which  they  employed  Avere  certain  herbs,  fumigations,  and 
 forms  of  conjuration.  They  probably  possessed  a  dexterous 
 legerdemain,  and  perhaps  by  natural  agencies,  aided  by  the 
 imagination,  could  produce  powerftil  eflects  for  the  moment, 
 the  cases  of  obAdous  failure  being  foi-gotten  in  those  of  apparent 
 success.  Had  Christ  produced  only  similar  effects,  their  veiy 
 commonness  would  have  made  them  unimpressive.  The  moral 
 and  spiiitual  influences  of  Christ,  ])roceeding  from  his  imme- 
 tliate  Dirine  power,  were  of  a  totally  different  character  from 
 these  juggling  tricks. 
 
 An  excellent  illustration  of  this  is  afforded  in  the  account 
 of  the  cwYQ  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  demoniac,  in  Luke  xi.  1 4  ; 
 Matt.  xii.  22.  Even  the  most  hostile  Pharisees  could  not 
 deny  that  in  this  instance  something  was  done  which  coiild  not 
 be  exjilaiQed  by  natural  causes;  and  to  obviate  the  impression 
 which  it  made  upon  the  multitude,  and  to  prevent  them  from 
 acknowledging  the  Divinity  of  Christ,  they  accused  him,  con- 
 trary to  theii'  o\vn  convictions,  of  being  in  league  \vith  the 
 ruler  of  evil  spirits,  and  of  working  his  wonders  by  powers 
 derived  from  that  dark  source.  Clnist  points  out  the  contra- 
 diction involved  in  their  assertion,  and  showed  that  such  works 
 could  be  wrought  only  by  the  power  of  God,  which  alone  coidd 
 free  the  human  soul  from  the  dominion  of  the  eril  spirit.  He 
 designates  this  indiridual  case  as  a  sign  that  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  befure  wliich  the  powers  of  darkness  miist  flee  away,  had 
 manifested  itself  He  gives  them  to  imderstand  that  the 
 original  som-ce  of  evil  in  mankind  and  in  men  had  fir.st  to  be 
 i"cmoved,  before  its  particulai*  effects  could  be  subdued.     And 
 
 '  Joseph.  Archseol.  viii.  2  §  5.  Josephus  appeals  to  a  remarkable  proof 
 of  this  fact,  wliich  one  of  tliese  exorcists  had  given  before  Vespa-sian  in 
 presence  of  part  of  the  Roman  army.  See  the  Greek  Testiiment  of  Solomon 
 (written  at  a  later  period)  in  Dr.  Fleck's  "Theologisclie  Keisefriichte, " 
 iii.  113. 
 
THE  RAISING  OF  THE  DEAD.  IGl 
 
 from  this  it  necessaiily  followed  (lie  showed)  that  every  casting 
 out  of  evil  spirits,  eveiy  healing  of  demoniacs,  wliich  was  not 
 foimded  upon  a  \'ictory  over  the  original  evil  power,  was  only 
 an  apparent  exorcism,  and  must  be  followed  by  a  worse  reaction. 
 Tlius  the  ordinary  exorcists,  who  apparently  produced  the 
 same  effects  as  Chi'ist,  in  reality  did  the  very  opposite.  The 
 e\'il  was  banished  only  to  retimi  with  increased  power. 
 
 He  that  does  not  work  in  communion  with  Cluist,  and  by 
 the  power  of  the  same  Spirit,  will,  in  producing  efiects  appa- 
 rently the  same,  bring  about  totally  different  results.  He 
 advances  the  kingdom  of  the  devil,  and  not  the  kingdom  of 
 God. 
 
 The  case  of  the  GadareneS  who  was  restored  from  raving 
 madness  to  a  sound  mind  by  the  Di\'ine  power  of  Chiist,  and 
 who  was  so  drawn  to  the  Saviour  that  he  Arished  to  remain 
 always  with  him,  shows  that  the  i-adical  cui-e  of  the  demoniacs 
 consisted  in  this,  that  they  who  were  freed  from  the  e^^l  spuit 
 were  drawn  to  the  Spu'it  of  God  which  had  delivered  them. 
 Such  a  condition  was  jDerhaps  to  many  the  crisis  of  a  higher 
 life.  In  tliis  way  Mary  ]Ntagdalene  appears  to  have  been 
 brought  into  the  narrower  cu-cle  of  Christ's  disciples.'' 
 
 The  silence  of  John's  Gospel  in  regard  to  Christ's  healing  of 
 demoniacs  may  be  ascribed  to  the  fact  that  the  disease  was 
 more  common  in  Gahlee  than  in  Jenisalem. 
 
 ni.    THE   KAISING   OP   THK  DEAD. 
 
 §  106. — DiffcveiU  Views  on  tJiese  Miracles. 
 
 The  position  to  be  assigned  to  the  miracle  of  the  raising  of 
 the  dead  will  depend  upon  the  view  which  Ave  take  of  the  real 
 condition  of  those  said  to  be  raised.  Some  suppose  that  they 
 were  not  absolutely  dead  in  the  physiological  sense,  but  that 
 there  was  an  intermission  of  the  powers  of  life,  presenting 
 sjnnptoms  resembling  death ;  and  those  who  adopt  this  view 
 of  the  case  consider  the  mu-acle  to  differ  only  in  degree  from 
 that  of  healing  the  sick. 
 
 But  if  the  accounts  are  taken  literally,  and  we  suppose  a 
 real  death,  the  mii-acle  was  »peciJicaUi/  different  from  that  of 
 healing,  and,  in  fact,  constituted  the  very  culminating  point  of 
 .supernatural  agency.  Yet,  even  to  awaken  the  dormant 
 powers  of  life,  and  kindle  up  again  the  expiring  flame,  would 
 certainly  have  been  a  miracle,  demanding  for  its  accomplish- 
 ment a  Di\-ine  power  in  Christ. 
 
 «  Mark  v.  1.     Luke  viii.  26.  •>  Mark  xvi.  9. 
 
162  THE  MIRACLES  OF  CHRIST. 
 
 A  precise  account  of  tlie  symptoms,  and  a  knowledge  of 
 physiology,  would  be  necessaiy  to  give  us  tlie  elements  for  a 
 decision  of  this  question,  in  the  absence  of  any  testimony  from 
 Christ's  own  mouth  to  decide  it.  In  regard  to  Christ's  own 
 words,  it  is  a  fair  question  whether  he  meant  to  distinguish 
 closely  between  apparent  and  real  death,  or  whether  he  made 
 use  of  the  tenn  "  death  "  only  in  accordance  with  the  popular 
 usage. 
 
 If  it  be  presupposed  that  the  dead  were  restored  to  earthly 
 life  after  having  entered  into  another  form  of  existence — into 
 connexion  with  another  world — the  idea  of  resurrection  would 
 be  dismal ;  but  we  have  no  right  to  form  such  a  presupposition 
 in  our  blank  ignorance  of  the  laws  under  which  the  new  form 
 of  consciousness  develops  itself  in  the  soul  after  separation 
 from  the  body.i 
 
 B.  CHRIST'S  MIRACLES  WROUGHT  UPON  MATERIAL 
 NATURE. 
 
 §  107. — Theseexhibit  Supernatural  Power  most  obviously. 
 
 We  pass  now  to  a  consideration  of  the  miracles  which  Christ 
 wrought  upon  material  nature,  in  which  the  supernatural 
 exhibits  itself  in  the  highest  possible  degree,  as  an  inter- 
 mediate psychical  agency  is,  by  the  very  natnre  of  the  case, 
 excluded. 
 
 Apart  from  individual  cases,  it  is  certain  that  a  power  of 
 controlUng  nature  is  one  of  the  marked  features  of  the  image 
 of  Christ  given  to  us  in  the  evangelical  tradition.  He  had 
 fully  impressed  men's  minds  with  a  belief  of  this.  And  in 
 deciding  upon  the  individual  cases  themselves,  everything 
 depends  upon  the  conception  of  Christ's  character  as  a  wlwle, 
 with  which  we  set  out.  Were  such  a  narrative  of  the  acts  of 
 an  ordinary  man  handed  down  to  us,  even  though  we  might 
 be  unable  to  separate  the  actual  course  of  fact  from  the  sub- 
 jective dress  given  to  it  in  the  account,  we  should  yet  be 
 inclined  to  suppose  that  the  man  had  wrought  some  mighty 
 influences  upon  the  minds  of  his  contemporaries,  and  that  they 
 had  involuntarily  transferred  these  to  natui*e,  which  is  so  often 
 made  the  mirror  of  what  passes  in  the  mind  of  man. 
 
 But  if  we  set  out  in  our  investigation  of  the  Gospel  narrative 
 with  a  just  idea  of  the  specific  difierence  between  Christ  and 
 any,  even  the  greatest,  of  mere  men ;  if  we  set  out  with  a  full 
 intuition  of  the  God-Mo/ti,  we  shall  find  no  difficulty  whatever 
 
 '  See  hereafter  on  the  resurrection  of  the  "  Widow's  Son, "  and  of 
 "  Lazarus," 
 
DIFFERENCES.  16$ 
 
 in  believing  that  he  operated  upon  the  most  secret  powers  of 
 natiu-e  as  no  other  could  have  done,  and,  by  the  might  of  his. 
 Divinity,  controlled  nature  in  a  way  which  finds  no  parallel 
 among  men. 
 
 BOOK  V. 
 
 THE  PUBLIC  MINISTRY  OF  CHRIST  ACCORDING 
 TO  ITS  CHRONOLOGICAL  CONNECTION. 
 
 INTEODUCTIOK 
 
 ON  THE  DIFFERENCES  BETWEEN  THE  SYNOPTICAL  GOSPELS  AND 
 JOHN. 
 
 In  comparing  the  first  three  Gospels  with  John,  we  find 
 several  discrepancies  in  regard  both  to  the  chronology  of  the 
 narrative  and  to  the  theatre  of  Christ's  labours. 
 §  108. — Differences  of  Chronology. 
 
 Matthew,  Mark,  and  Luke  include  but  o^ie  feast  of  the  Pass- 
 over within  the  period  of  Christ's  public  ministry,  wliile  John's 
 nan-ative  embraces  three  or  four.  It  may  be  enough  to  say  in 
 regard  to  this,  that  the  former  Gospels  do  not  confine  them- 
 selves to  a  chronological  arrangement,  and  therefore  we  ai-e 
 entitled  to  draw  no  conclusion  from  the  fact  that  the  Passover 
 is  mentioned  in  them  but  once,  and  that  towards  the  close  of 
 Christ's  career  upou  earth.  The  facts  narrated  may  have  ex- 
 tended through  several  years,  and  yet  the  mention  of  the  Pass- 
 over feasts  may  have  been  omitted,  as  other  chronological 
 mai'ks  have  been. 
 
 There  is  nothing  in  the  first  three  Gospels  to  contradict  the 
 theory  that  Christ's  ministry  lasted  for  several  years.  Even  in 
 Luke  himself)  there  is  a  passing  remark  which  necessarily 
 presupposes  the  occurrence  of  one  Passover  in  the  midst  of  that 
 ministry.  There  is  nothing,  then,  to  invalidate  John's  account, 
 which  mentions  the  oocurrence  of  several. 
 
 §  109. — Differences  as  to  (he  Theatre  of  Christ's  Labours. 
 
 According  to  the  sjTioptical  Gospels,  Galilee  was  the  chief  ' 
 theatre  of  Christ's  labours,    and   he    only  transferred    them 
 
 •>  Luke  vi.  1 :  the  ffa^GaToi'  StvnponpwTov,  in  connection  with  the 
 "  npe  ears  of  corn. ' ' 
 
 M  2 
 
164  THEATRE  OP  CHRIST's  LABOURS. 
 
 to  Jerusalem  when  be  was  going  to  meet  his  approaching 
 death. 
 
 We  miist  here  more  minutely  examine  the  question  before 
 lightly  touched  upon  (p.  103).  Did  Christ  purposely  confine  his 
 labours  chiefly  to  Galilee  in  hope  of  finding  more  ready  access 
 to  the  hearts  of  its  simpler-minded  inhabitants,  who  were  less 
 in  bondage  to  the  traditions  of  the  Phai'isees  than  the  people 
 of  Jerusalem  ?  or  was  it  because  he  was  less  exposed  there  to 
 the  "  snares  "  of  the  Pharisees,  and  could,  therefore,  hope  to 
 exercise  his  labours  more  iminten'uj)tedly,  and  for  a  longer 
 period  ?  Did  he  wait  imtil  he  had  laid  the  foundation  of  his 
 work  so  firmly  that  it  would  endm-e,  and  propagate  itself  after 
 his  death,  before  he  detennined  to  go  and  meet  the  perils  that 
 awaited  him  at  the  seat  of  the  priesthood  1  Did  he  only  make  up 
 his  mind  to  go,  in  spite  of  the  dangers  which  he  foresaw  would 
 environ  him,  in  order  to  avoid  the  reproach  of  distrusting  the 
 Divinity  of  his  owii  cause,  and  thereby  giving  occasion  of  per- 
 plexity to  his  disciples  1 
 
 If  these  questions  are  answered  in  the  affirmative,  we  should 
 have  to  suppose  that  the  tradition  which  John  followed  in  his 
 Gospel  did  not  give  correctly  the  oxiginal  relations  of  Christ's 
 labours.  It  was  utterly  inconsistent  with  a  wish  on  his  part  to 
 be  recognized  as  Messiah,  for  him  to  conceal  himself  so  long  in 
 a  corner  of  Galilee,  and  to  hold  back  for  so  long  a  time  his 
 testimony  to  his  Divine  calling  before  the  face  of  the  people 
 and  the  priests  at  JeiiTsalem.  It  would  have  been  a  stumbling- 
 block,  indeed,  for  one  who  professed  to  acknowledge  the  old 
 Mosaic  religious  ideas  in  all  their  holiness,  to  refrain,  dining 
 the  whole  course  of  his  public  laboui-s,  from  Ansiting  the  Temple 
 at  one  of  the  chief  feasts  of  the  Jews. 
 
 §  110. — Proof  that  Christ  frequently  exercised  his  Ministry  in  Judea  and 
 Jerusalem. 
 
 It  is  every  way  accordant,  indeed,  with  internal  probability, 
 that  Jesus  should  have  exjiected  to  find  easier  jucess  to  the 
 simple-miuded  Galilean  peasants  than  to  the  rich,  the  haughty, 
 and  the  learned  at  Jerusjilem.  Bvit  it  is  altogether  improbable 
 to  suppose  that  he  would  subject  himself  to  the  reproach  of 
 despising  the  ancient  and  holy  institutions'^  of  the  Jews,  by 
 
 I*  In  the  Tfilmudical  treatise  "  ChagigaJi,"  c.  ii.  none  (among  atlults) 
 l^ut  the  deaf,  the  sick,  the  insane,  and  the  very  aged,  are  exempted  from 
 the  o))ligation  to  attend  the  princijial  feasts  at  Jerustdeui.  Of  course,  this 
 law  couhl  not  apply  to  the  Jews  of  distant  countries,  who  were  only  retjuircd 
 to  send  annually  a  deputation  to  the  Temple,  willi  sacrifices,  and  with  the 
 
JERUSALEM.  1 G5 
 
 absenting  himself  from  the  gatherings  of  the  devont  at  their 
 chief  feasts  ;^  and  it  would  have  been  strange  if  he  had  neg- 
 lected the  opportunity  of  extending  his  labours  that  was 
 afforded  by  the  general  coming  together  of  Jews  from  all 
 countries  at  those  festivals. 
 
 And  how  unAvise  would  it  have  been  in  him  to  defer  the 
 commencement  of  his  laboxu-s  in  the  Theocratic  capital  until 
 the  precise  period  when  liis  ministry  in  Galilee  must  have 
 drawn  upon  him  the  hatred  and  the  fears  of  the  prevailing 
 Pharisaic  party  of  Jerasalem,  when  he  must  have  foreseen,  too, 
 that  he  woidd  be  overcome  by  them  ! 
 
 As  to  his  putting  off  lus  journey  to  Jerusalem  until  the 
 Apostles  were  sufficiently  pre2:»ared  to  cany  on  the  work  with- 
 out his  personal  presence,  sui'ely  the  Apostles  knew  as  yet  too 
 little  of  his  doctrines  to  render  such  a  course  consistent  even 
 with  human  foresight. 
 
 Moreover,  the  fanatical  hatred  of  Christ  wliich  was  mani- 
 fested by  the  Pharisaical  party  can  only  be  explained  upon  the 
 ground  that  he  had  excited  theu-  opposition  by  a  pre^ious 
 ministry,  of  some  duration,  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem  itself. 
 Nor  are  there  wanting,  even  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  intima- 
 tions to  the  same  effect,  e.  g.,  Matt.  iv.  25,  xv.  1,  in  wliich  the 
 scribes  and  Pharisees  of  Jerusalem  are  spoken  of  as  gathering 
 rovmd  Jesus  in  Galilee,  and  asking  him  entangling  questions. 
 It  may  have  been  the  case,  either  that  after  liis  labours  in 
 Jei'usalem  had  drawn  their  hatred  upon  him,  they  followed, 
 and  watched  him  suspiciously,  even  in  Galilee  ;  or  that  some 
 of  the  events  that  originally  happened  in  the  city  were,  in  the 
 coiu-se  of  tradition,  intermingled  and  confused  with  those  which 
 occiuTcd  in  Gahlee.  Again,  the  earnest  exclamation  of  Christ, 
 recorded  in  Luke  xiii.  34  ;  Matt,  xxiii.  37,  distinctly  implies 
 that  he  had  oflen  endeavoured,  by  his  jyersoiial  teaching  in 
 Jerusalem,  to  rouse  the  people  to  repentance  and  conversion, 
 that  they  might  be  saved  from  the  i-uin  then  impending  over 
 them.  The  words,  "children  of  Jerusalem"  although  they 
 might  apply  to  the  whole  nation,  must,  in  this  exclamation, 
 which  is  specifically  addressed  to  the  "city  which  killed  the 
 
 money  arising  from  the  price  of  the  first  fruits.  Conf  Philo,  Legat.  ad 
 Cajum,  §§  23,  31. 
 
 '  Luke  ii.  41,  shows  that  the  devout  of  Galilee  felt  themselves  bound  to 
 journey  to  Jerusalem  at  least  at  the  Passover  ;  the  passage  even  speaks  of 
 the  journey  of  a  woman,  on  whom  the  law  imposed  no  such  obligation. 
 We  cannot  (\vitli  Strauss)  find  any  proof  even  in  Matthew  that  absence  from 
 the  festivals  was  held  of  no  account  amon?  the  Je^^nsh-Christians. 
 
166  THE  VTKE  OF  CHRIST's  LABOURS. 
 
 ■prophets^''  be  taken  as  referring  directly  to  the  inhabitants  of 
 that  city. 
 
 The  account  of  Christ's  relations  with  the  family  of  Lazarus, 
 given  in  Luke  (x.  38-42),  coiucides  in  spirit  with  John's  state- 
 ment (xi.  5)  of  the  intimate  affection  with  which  the  Saviour 
 regarded  them ;  and  the  intimacy  must  have  been  formed 
 during  a  prolonged  stay  in  Jerusalem.  The  fact,  too,  that 
 several  distinguished  men  of  that  city  (e.  g.,  Joseph  of  Arima- 
 thea,  as  we  are  told  by  the  fii-st  Evangelists)  liad  attached 
 themselves  to  Christ,  affords  us  the  same  conclusion.  !N^or  can 
 we  fail  to  trace,  in  Luke's  account  (ix.  51-62)  of  his  last  jom-ney 
 to  Jerusalem,  some  confusion,  arising  from  a  blending  together, 
 in  the  narrative,  of  events  that  had  occurred  on  a  former 
 journey. 
 
 And,  again,  can  it  be  imagined  that  Christ  omitted  to  make 
 use  of  his  miracidous  powers'"  precisely  in  Jerusalem,  where 
 the  best  opportunities  of  employing  them  for  the  relief  of 
 human  suffeiing  would  have  been  afforded  ?  "Would  there  not, 
 moreover,  have  been  some  trace  of  this  in  the  mode  of  his 
 reception  at  Jerusalem,  similar,  probably,  to  what  occurred  on 
 his  first  laboui's  at  Nazai'eth  ?  Would  not  his  laboiirs  there 
 have  been  very  different  from  what  the  synoptical  Gospels 
 report  them,  if  they  had  been  liis  first  efforts  in  that  city  ? 
 
 Thus  there  are  many  tilings  in  the  first  three  Gospels  them- 
 selves which  indicate  and  presuppose  the  accuracy  of  John's 
 nan-ative.  The  latter  is,  besides,  entirely  consistent  with  itself, 
 both  in  its  chronology,  and  in  its  accounts  of  the  several 
 journeys  of  Christ  to  the  Feasts. 
 
 Finally,  those  who  infer  from  the  synoptical  Gospels  that 
 Christ  made  but  one  journey,  must  ascribe  to  the  author  of 
 John's  Gospel  a  fabrication,  wilfully  invented,  to  sen-e  liis  own 
 purpose.  But  the  man  who  could  do  this  coiild  never  have 
 written  such  a  Gospel.  Moreover,  were  it  a  fiction,  still,  if 
 intended  to  be  believed,  it  would  have  been  more  accommo- 
 dated to  the  popular  ti-adition.  No  one  individual  could  liave 
 remodelled  tlie  entire  tradition  after  an  invented  plan  of  his 
 own,  contradicting  all  others. 
 
 But,  on  the  other  hand,  by  following  John,  we  do  not  charge 
 
 "•  This  difficulty,  indeed,  is  avoided  in  Matthew's  Gospel,  for  it  is  tliere 
 stated  (xxi.  14),  quite  indefinite!}',  however,  that  "he  healed  the  lame  and 
 the  blind  in  the  Temple."  It  is  impossible  not  to  see  that  the  historical 
 connection  is  lost  in  this  passage  of  Matthew  ;  we  can  gather  it  correctly 
 only  from  John's  Gospel. 
 
JESUS  AND  J OHX  THE  BAPTIST.  1G7 
 
 any  falsification  upon  tlie  thi-ee  otliei-  Evangelists  :  we  can 
 easily  conceive  how  the  separate  ti'aclitions,  of  which  those 
 Gospels  were  made  up,  may  have  been  so  put  together,  without 
 any  intention  to  deceive,  as  apparently  to  represent  Christ  as 
 making  one  Passover  journey.  From  the  account  of  the  ap- 
 pearances of  Christ  after  the  resurrection,  given  by  Matthew, 
 we  may  see  how  easily  such  obscurities  crept  into  the  circle  of 
 Galilean  traditions.  Luke  agrees  with  John  in  assigning 
 Jerusalem  as  the  scene  of  those  appearances :  yet,  from  reading 
 Matthew  alone,  we  might  infer  that  they  all  took  place  in 
 GaUlee." 
 
 PART  I. 
 
 FROM  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OF  CHEIST'S  PUBLIC  MINIS- 
 TRY TO  THE  TRIUMPHAL  ENTRY. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 JESUS  AND  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. THE  FIRST  DISCIPLES. 
 
 "We  resume  the  thread  of  oiu-  historical  narrative  at  the 
 point  where  it  was  broken  off.° 
 
 On  issuing  from  the  soHtude  in  wliich  he  had  prepared  him- 
 self for  his  public  labours,  Jesus  again  sought  the  prophetic 
 man  who  had  given  him  the  Di\^ne  signal  for  their  commence- 
 ment, and  had  consecrated  him  to  his  holy  caUing.  Not,  in- 
 deed, in  order  to  form  a  close  connexion  with  him,  for  John 
 had  to  remain  true  to  his  office  as  Forerunner,  and  to  continue 
 his  ministry  in  that  capacity,  imtU  the  Messiah  should  lay  the 
 foundation  of  his  visible  kingdom  Avith  miraciilous  power,  and, 
 by  securing  general  acknowledgment,  should  indicate  to  the 
 Foreiimner,  also,  that  he  should  submit  himself,  with  all  others, 
 to  the  Theocratic  King.  But  in  the  circle  of  Galilean  disciples 
 that  had  gathered  around  John,  full  of  longing  aspu-ations, 
 Jesus  might  expect  to  find  some  suitable  to  be  taken  into  fel- 
 lowship with  himself  and  trained  to  become  his  organs.  The 
 sphere  of  John's  ministry  was  calculated  to  ofier  the  best  point 
 of  transition  to  Christ's  independent  laboiu's. 
 
 §  111. — Message  of  the  Satihedrim  to  John  at  Bethabara. 
 jNIeanwhile  John,  -with  his   disciples,  had  been  traversing 
 both  shores  of  the  Jordan;  and  just  at  that  time  he  was  on 
 
 "  A  favourable  light  is  thrown  upon  the  genuineness  and  credibility  of 
 John's  Gospel  by  the  fact  that  it  alone  contains  a  closely  connected  and 
 chronological  account  of  Christ's  public  ministry.  "  Page  73. 
 
168  JESUS  AND  JOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 the  east  side  of  the  river,  in  Perc^ea,  at  Bethany,  or  Bethabai-a.i^ 
 The  Jewish  Sanhedrim,  the  highest  ecclesiastical  anthority,  had 
 at  first  quietly  sufiered  him  to  go  on  preaching  repentance. 
 But  when  his  followers  and  influence  increased  to  such  an 
 extent  that  men  were  even  inclined  to  look  upon  him  as  the 
 Messiah,  that  liigh  tribunal  thought  it  best  to  send  a  deputa- 
 tion "J  to  obtain  from  his  own  hps  an  explanation  of  the  calling 
 in  which  he  laboured. 
 
 John  did  not  at  once  give  as  positive  a  statement  as  was 
 desired,  but  satisfied  himself  with  gi^Tng  a  negative  to  the 
 popular  idea  which  had  probably  caused  the  deputation  to  be 
 sent  ["/  am  not  the  Christ"^  But  as  he  accompanied  this 
 denial  Avith  no  further  explanation  in  i-egard  to  himself,  the 
 messengers  were  compelled  to  press  him  with  fui-ther  questions. 
 They  naturally  asked  him,  then,  whether  he  wished  to  be  con- 
 sidered as  one  of  the  great  personages  who  were  looked  for  as 
 precursors  of  Messiah ;  presupposing  that  only  in  this  sense  he 
 could  assume  a  Di\dne  calling  to  bajjtize.  John  continued  to 
 give  curt  replies,  just  enough  to  meet  each  separate  question. 
 Although  in  a  spiritual  sense  he  was  the  Elias  who  was  to 
 precede  Messiah,  he  denied  that  he  was  so  (/.  e.  in  the  carnal 
 sense  in  which  they  put  the  question  and  would  understand 
 the  answer).  He  desci-ibed  himself  only  in  genei-al  tenns,  not 
 liable  to  persxrsion,  as  the  one  through  whom  the  voice  of  God 
 called  upon  the  nation  to  repent  and  prepare  for  a  new  and 
 glorious  revelation  that  was  at  hand.  Humbling  himself,  as 
 the  bearer  merely  of  a  prefigurative  baptism,  he  pointed  to  the 
 mightier  One  who  should  baj)tize  with  the  Spirit,  who  ah-eady 
 stood,  unrecognized,  in  their  midst.  His  remark,  "'  Ye  know 
 him  not,"  was  doubtless  founded  upon  the  fact  (which  he  did 
 not  uttei-)  that  lie  knew  him,  as  he  had  before  been  revealed  at 
 his  baptism. 
 
 These  answers  to  the  deputation  are  less  clear  and  full  than 
 those  which  the  Baptist  gave  for  the  warning  and  instruction 
 of  individuals,  as  recorded  in  the  first  Gospels.  As  the  niling 
 powers  had  little  favour  for  John,  he  had  good  reason  to  sus- 
 pect the  intentions  Avith  which  the  Sanliedrim  had  sent  their 
 messengers.  Hence  the  brevity  and  resen-e  ^vith  which  he 
 answered  them. 
 
 I*  Two  different  names  given  to  the  snme  place  at  different  times,  both 
 having  the  same  meaning,  "a  place  of  ships,"  "a  place  for  croiwing  in 
 ships  "  (a  ferry).  See  Liickc  on  John  i.  28  ;  Wina's  "  Biblisches  llealwor- 
 terbuch,"  i.  19G,  2nd  ed.  i  John  i.  19,  seq. 
 
THE  BAPTIST  POINTS  OUT  CHRIST.  169 
 
 §  112. — John  ■points  to  Jesus  as  the  Suffering  Messiah,  and  testifies  to  his 
 Higher  Dignity. 
 
 Oil  tlie  day  aftei*  John  had  thus  (officially,  as  it  were) 
 pointed  Christ  out  as  ha\-iug  already  appeared  among  the 
 people,  though  unrecognized  by  them,  the  Sa\iour  came  forth 
 from  his  seclusion,  and  showed  himself  in  the  midst  of  John's 
 disciples/  The  Baptist,  beholding  Ids  approach,  exclaimed, 
 "  Beliold  ilie  Lamb  of  God,  that  taJceth  away  tlie  sin  of  (lie  worldr 
 The  image  of  the  Holy  One,  suffeiing  for  his  people,  and  bear- 
 ing their  sms  (Isa.  liii.),  stood  before  liis  soul  as  he  uttered 
 these  words.  As  we  have  already  seen,  John  believed  that  the 
 Messiah  would  have  to  go  through  a  struggle  with  the  coniipt 
 part  of  the  people;  and  he  readily  joined  to  tins  beUcf  the  idea 
 of  a  Messiah  suffering  for  the  sins  of  the  people,  and  trimnph- 
 infj  through  sufferinn:.  The  intuition  to  which  he  gave  utter- 
 ance  was  simultaneous  ^\'ith  the  appearance  before  his  eyes  of 
 Christ's  person,  so  gentle,  so  calm,  and  so  meek ;  ^  and  his  con- 
 ception of  the  idea  of  Messiah,  in  a  prophetic  spirit,  reached  its 
 very  acme.  Yet  we  cannot  define  precisely  the  meaning  wliich 
 John  himself  attached  to  the  words ;  for  we  cannot  supj^ose  in 
 him  a  doctrinal  conception  of  their  import  such  as  a  fully 
 Christian  mind  would  have.'     His  was  a  prophetic  intuition, 
 
 '  John  i.  29. 
 
 *  Hence  the  appropriateness  of  the  figure  of  the  lamh  rather  than  of  any 
 other  animal  used  in  the  offering's.  ^V^lat  we  say  is  enough  to  indicate  the 
 grounds  on  which  we  differ  from  otlier  inteq^retatious  of  this  pas.sage. 
 Conf.  Liiclr,  in  Uic. 
 
 '  We  do  not  suppose,  therefore,  that  the  Baptist  had  before  his  mind  the 
 full  sense  which  the  Evangelist,  from  his  Christian  stand-point,  connected 
 with  the  words.  It  caimot  be  known  with  certainty  but  that  the  fonner 
 ii.sed  the  word  C7,  which  the  latter  translated  KoafioQ.  From  a  mind  like 
 the  Evangelist's  we  could  hardly  expect  so  fine  a  distinction  between  the 
 objective  and  subjective  to  be  distinctly  marked  in  his  statement  of  the  words 
 of  another.  He  perhaps  involuntarily  blended  them.  He  revered  the 
 memory  of  the  Baptist,  his  spiritual  guide  ;  these  words  of  the  Baptist  had 
 greatly  tended  to  develop  his  inner  life,  and  had  led  him  to  Christ  :  it 
 was,  therefore,  all  the  easier  for  him  to  attribute  to  them  a  higher  Christian 
 sense  than  the  Baptist  had  when  he  uttered  them.  The  interpretation 
 which  he  gave  to  them  may  also  thus  have  reacted  upon  the  form  in  which 
 they  were  impressed  upon  his  memory.  This  view  does  not  in  the  least 
 impugn  the  veracity  of  the  narrative,  or  tend  to  show  that  John  was  not 
 its  author.  The  whole  tone  of  the  Baptist's  word.s  is  consistent  with  his 
 character  and  habits.  Moreover,  as  we  have  before  remarked  (p.  55),  the 
 kingdom  of  God,  as  spreading  among  the  heatlien  nations,  had  opened  par- 
 tially to  his  view  ;  he  may,  therefore,  in  the  passage  under  discussion,  have- 
 had  reference  to  manl:ind,  rather  than  to  the  Jewish  world. 
 
170  JESUS  AND  JOHX  THE  BAPTIST. 
 
 bordering  indeed  on  Christianity,  but  yet,  perhaps,  commingled 
 mth  -wholly  heterogeneous  elements. 
 
 After  John  had  thus  designated  the  character  of  Jesus,  to 
 ■whom  he  washed  to  direct  liis  disciples,  he  repeats  anew  the 
 testimony  which  he  had  before  publicly  given  "  of  him  that 
 was  to  follow"  (although  probably  not  given,  in  the  fii'st  in- 
 stance, with  the  same  confidence  as  to  the  person),  and  applies 
 it,  in  stronger  terms,  to  Christ — "  This  is  he  of  wliom  I  said, 
 After  me  comeili  a  man  that  is  preferred  before  me,  for  he  was 
 before  me."**  ("Wlio  has  taken  a  higher  place  than  I,  according 
 to  his  natui-e.") 
 
 §  113. — John  and  Andrew,  Disciples  of  John,  attack  themselves  to  Jesus.-^ 
 Gradual  A  ttraction  of  others. 
 
 These  words  of  the  Baptist  were  listened  to  by  two  Galilean 
 youths,  who  stood  in  the  circle  of  his  disciples — John  and 
 Andrew.     It  was  about  foiu-  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  when, 
 
 "  John  i.  30.  These  obscurely  prophetic  words  were  the  Baptist's  own, 
 and  not  put  into  his  mouth  by  the  EvangeHst.  But  this  only  makes  their 
 explanation  more  diflBcult.  According  to  the  usage  of  the  Greek,  and  of 
 language  generally,  the  before  of  place  and  time  may  express,  figuratively, 
 precedence  oi  dignity  ;  and,  in  this  usage,  ifi-poaQiv  fiov  ysyovtv  is  easily 
 intei-preted,  "  allhovfjh  (in  the  order  of  time)  he  comes  after  me,  yet  (in  the 
 order  of  dignity)  Ite  was  before  me."  In  the  full  certainty  of  prophetic 
 intuition,  the  Baptist  describes  this  as  already  realized.  It  is  harder  to 
 interpret  Trpuirog  fiov  Jjr.  Referring  the  words  "he  was  before  me"  to 
 the  pre-existaice  of  Christ,  they  would  imply  that  his  dignity  as  Messiah 
 was  to  grow  out  of  his  pre-existing  Divine  nature.  Nor  could  it,  in  this 
 case,  be  said  that  the  Evangelist  had  involuntarily  modified  the  language 
 of  the  Baptist  by  an  infusion  of  his  own  Christian  ideas  ;  for.  in  the  mind 
 of  the  latter,  the  higher  conception  of  the  person  of  the  Messiah,  as  well  as 
 of  his  work  and  kingdom,  may  have  been  developed  irom  a  profoundly 
 spiritual  interpretation  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Old  Testament.  This 
 much,  indeed,  is  implied  in  his  partial  statements  (recorded  by  the  other 
 Evangelists)  in  regard  to  the  peculiar  indwelling  of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  the 
 Messiah  ;  although  it  does  not  follow  that  the  Baptist  was  fully  conscious 
 of  this.  It  remains  a  question,  whether  it  would  not  be  more  in  accord- 
 ance with  the  simple  conception  of  the  Baptist  to  take  TrnwToc;  as  referring, 
 not  to  }nx-existence,  but  to  priority  of  nature,  which  interpretation  I  have 
 followed  in  the  text.  This  involves  no  tautology  ;  the  "  becominf/  gi-eater " 
 is  derived  fi-om  the  "being  greater."  The  word  ?/j'  is  used,  and  not  iari, 
 to  indicate  that  the  "priority  of  essence"  preceded  "the  priority  of 
 dignity,"  which  was  not  obtained  by  Christ,  in  its  manifestation,  until  a 
 later  period.  It  is  an  oxymoron:  he  was  that,  which  he  has  fjccome." 
 Thus  interpreted,  the  passage  corresponds  to  what  John  says  of  Christ  in 
 another  form,  in  Matt.  iii.  11.  If  this  view  be  adopted,  we  mu.st  remember 
 to  distinguish  between  the  sense  in  which  the  Baptist  uttered  the  words 
 and  that  which  the  Evangelist,  from  his  higher  Christian  consciousness, 
 attributes  to  them. 
 
THE  DEAUGHT  OF  FISHES.  171 
 
 obeying  the  hint  of  the  Baptist,  they  followed  Jesus ;  re£i*ain- 
 ing,  however,  in  reverence,  from  distui-buig  his  meditations. 
 The  Saviour,  noticing  them,  turned  kindly  and  asked  what 
 they  desired.  Even  then  they  did  not  venture  to  express  their 
 longing  to  be  honoured  ^vith  his  friendship ;  but  only  timidly 
 inquired  where  he  dwelt.  Anticipating  their  reque.st,  he  kindly 
 invited  them  to  visit  liim.  The  few  hours  that  remained  before 
 evening  were  spent  in  his  society.  This  was  their  first  impres- 
 sion of  Christ ;  he  left  it  to  work  in  their  hearts.  Thus  was  it 
 also  with.  SiMOX  (John  i  42),  in  whom  Christ  discerned  in  a 
 moment  the  yet  dormant  spirit  of  the  3Ian  of  Hock.  And  those 
 whose  first  impressions  were  thus  received  pointed  Christ  out  to 
 their  fellows;  and  thus  ai'ose  ihejirst  cu'cle  of  disciples,  which 
 accompanied  him  from  Persea  back  to  Galilee.^ 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 COMMENCEMENTS  OF  CHRISTS  PUBLIC  TEACHIXG. 
 §  114. — The  Miraculous  Draught  of  Fishes. — Effect  of  the  Miracle  on  Peter. 
 
 On  his  return  to  Galilee,  Christ  at  once  began  his  labours  as 
 a  teacher ;  not,  however,  in  the  synagogues,  but  in  instructing 
 the  groups  that  gathered  around  him.  He  betook  himself  first, 
 not  to  Nazareth,  his  native  place,  where  he  could  least  hope  to 
 be  received  as  a  prophet  (the  carnal  mind  looks  only  at  the 
 outward  appearance),  but  to  the  Httle  town  of  Capemaiun. 
 The  young  men  who  had  accompanied  him  from  Peraea  were 
 from  the  neighbourhood  of  Capernaimi  and  Bethsaida ;  and  he 
 only  waited  for  a  suitable  opportunity  to  take  them  into  closer 
 comm\mion.     Such  an  opportunity  was  the  following : 
 
 One  day,  as  he  was  walking  upon  the  western  shore  of  the 
 Sea  of  Genesareth,  an  increasing  throng  of  eager  listeners  col- 
 lected about  him.  Some  fishermen  who  had  toiled  all  night 
 and  brought  up  nothing  but  empty  nets,  had  left  their  vessels 
 fastened  near  the  shore.  Jesus  asked  Simon,  to  whom  one  of 
 the  fishing-boats  belonged,  to  push  it  out  a  little  way  from  the 
 shore,  that  he  might  stand  on  board,  afid  thus  address  the 
 people  to  better  advantage.'^     On  finishing  his  discourse,  he 
 
 '  John  i.  42 — 47.  It  is  apparent  from  John's  statement  alone  that 
 Christ  did  not  take  these  young  disciples,  who  were  afterward  to  be  his 
 organs,  immediately  into  close  fellowship,  but  left  them  for  a  while  to 
 themselves.  John  gives  us  no  further  account  of  the  forming  of-  the 
 Apostolic  community ;  he  presupposes  many  things,  which  we  must 
 endeavour  to  fiU  up  by  comparing  the  s;.Tioptical  Gospels. 
 
 '"  A  comparison  of  Luke  v.  with  Matt.  iv.  18,  will  vindicate  the  correct- 
 ness of  this  representation.     Here  we  have  two  independent  statements  : 
 
172  CHRIST  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 turned  to  Peter,  who  doubtless  was  anew  struck  with  the 
 power  of  his  words,  and  told  liim  to  cast  his  net  into  the  deep. 
 Although  he  had  toiled  all  night  in  vain,  he  obeyed  the  Master 
 at  a  word.  This  full  confidence  of  Peter  shows  that  he  had 
 already  been  imjiressed  to  some  extent,  at  least,  with  the 
 Divinity  of  Christ.'^  An  impression  of  the  most  powerful  cha- 
 racter, however,  mu.st  have  been  made  upon  him  (as  a  fisher- 
 man) by  the  wondei-ful  result  of  this  once  letting  down  of  his 
 net,  after  the  vain  attempts  of  the  long  night  before.  The 
 manifestation  of  the  Di\dne  power  to  liim  in  the  exercise  of 
 his  own  trade  was  characteristic  of  the  Divine  operations  gene- 
 rally in  the  histoxy  of  Christianity ;  he  Avas  thus  led  from  the 
 Carnal  to  the  Spiritual.y  All  his  prcAdous  impressions  were 
 reA-ived  and  deepened  by  this  sudden  exliibition  of  the  power 
 of  a  word  from  Christ,  and  the  SaA"iour  appeared  so  exalted, 
 that  he  felt  himself  unworthy  to  be  near  him  ["  Depart  froni 
 me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  77ian,  0  LordT^     The  Divine  power 
 
 that  in  Matthew  an  abbreviated  one,  while  Luke's  is  the  vivid  and  cir- 
 cumstantial account  of  an  eye-witness.  The  words  of  Christ  to  Peter,  as 
 given  by  Matthew  (iv.  19),  "  /  will  make  you  fishers  of  men,"  seem  to  pre- 
 suppose an  event  such  as  the  miraculous  draught  of  fishes  ;  but  Matthew 
 presents  them  as  entirely  isolated,  while  Luke  gives  the  occasion  of  them 
 very  graphically.  None  but  those  abstractionists  who  must  measure  all 
 phenomena,  however  infinite  in  variety,  upon  the  Procrustean  bed  of  their 
 own  logical  formulas,  will  see  in  this  account  the  stamp  of  a  legendary 
 story.  It  has  all  the  freshness  of  life  and  reality  about  it.  Whoever  is 
 well  read  in  the  history  of  the  diffusion  of  Christianity  in  all  ages  will  be 
 able  to  recall  many  analogous  cases.  ScMeicrmacfici-  (Comm.  on  Luke,  in 
 loc.  or  "  Werke,"  ii.  5-3),  in  his  remarks  on  tliis  case,  showed  with  what 
 nice  tact  he  could  distinguish  hktory  from  legend.  Honour  to  the  memory 
 of  that  great  man,  whose  profoundly  logical  mind  humbled  itself,  in  pure 
 love  of  Truth,  before  the  power  of  History  ! 
 
 ^  It  also  confirms  the  account  in  John's  Gospel.  Tlie  connection  of  the 
 narrative  which  I  have  given  abundantly  shows  that  Matthew's  account  is 
 not  irreconcileable  with  Luke's,  or  botli  with  John's,  as  some  suppose.  I 
 do  not  mean  to  say,  however,  that  the  connection  thus  made  by  comparing 
 all  the  accounts  was  present  to  the  minds  of  the  writers  seieral/y,  for  in 
 that  case,  doubtless,  the  fonn  of  their  narratives  would  have  l>een  different 
 from  what  it  is  now.  •Such  discrepancies  can  surprise  no  man  who  has 
 attempted  to  gather  a  connected  narrative  of  any  kind  from  several  distinct 
 accounts. 
 
 ''  Tliose  who  Iwlieve  in  a  Divine  teleological  government  of  the  world, 
 in  a  Providence  which  makes  Nature  subserve  the  progress  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God,  must  regard  this  event  as  one  of  those  in  which  the  Iwrder  lino 
 Iwtween  the  natural  and  supernatural  is  hard  to  be  distinguished,  and 
 which  form  the  point  of  transition  from  the  former  to  the  latter. 
 
 '  On  account  of  this  peculiar  relation  between  Christ  and  Peter,  we  can 
 hardly  suppose  (although  much  may  be  said  in  favour  of  it)  that  this  event 
 occurred  after  he  had  known  Christ  for  some  time,  or  after  he  had  been  a 
 
THE  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES.  173 
 
 appears  fearful,  ia  its  holiness,  to  the  sinner  who  is  conscious 
 of  his  sinfulness ;  it  fills  him  with  consternation ;  he  shiinks 
 back  from  it  Avith  tx'embling.  Infinite,  indeed,  in  view  of  the 
 law,  must  the  chasm  appear  between  the  sinner  and  the 
 Divinely  exalted  Holy  One.'' 
 
 Christ  seized  upon  this  impression,  and,  glorifying  the 
 Physical  into  the  Spiritual,  by  his  prophetic  explanation  of  the 
 phenomenon,  said  to  Peter  [Fear  not;  from  Itenceforth  tlum 
 sluilt  catch  meii]  :  "  Shrink  not  back  in  fear.  Take  confidence 
 in  me.  Attach  thyself  henceforth  wJiolly  to  me.  Thou  shalt 
 see  greater  proofs  of  my  23ower  than  this.  In  fellowsliip  vntYi 
 me  thou  shalt  achieve  greater  miracles.  From  henceforth  thy 
 net  shall  catch  men." 
 
 witness  of  his  first  public  labours  at  Jerusalem  ;  so,  also,  we  cannot,  for 
 the  same  reason,  place  it  after  the  wedding  at  Cana  ;  although  this  last  is 
 more  probable  than  the  other,  since  we  cannot  say  certainly  what  impres- 
 sions the  occurrences  at  Cana  made,  at  first,  upon  the  disciples.  The  view 
 which  we  have  followed  in  the  text  seems  to  be  contradicted  by  the  con- 
 nection between  John  i.  43  and  46  ;  but  there  is  no  real  contradiction. 
 The  calling  of  Nathanael  (John  i.  46)  and  that  of  Philip  (i.  43)  are  not 
 necessarily  connected  in  place  and  time.  John  mentions  an  intended 
 return  to  Galilee  (v.  43),  but  says  nothing  about  the  journey  itself;  he 
 may  have  been  induced,  by  the  mention  of  Bethsaida,  to  place  the  theatre 
 of  the  accomit  in  that  region.  (See  Bleelc,  Stud.  u.  Krit.  1833,  ii.)  The 
 late  B.  Jacobi  (in  the  same  periodical,  1838,  iv.  852)  adduces  against  this 
 ▼iew  John's  accuracy,  in  this  passage,  in  mentioning  time  and  place.  It 
 is  not  clear,  however,  that  John  meant  to  give,  in  each  case  in  the 
 chapter,  the  time  and  place  exactly.  His  exactness  extends  only  to  the 
 events  which  served  to  lead  John's  discipks  to  Christ ;  and  it  is  not  at  all 
 evident  that  Nathanael  belonged  to  that  number.  The  way  in  which 
 Philip  describes  the  Messiah  to  him,  saying  nothing  of  the  Baptist's  tes- 
 timony, ratlier  shows  the  contrary.  Moreover,  the  opposite  view  would 
 prove  that  Nathanael  was  first  found  in  Galilee. 
 
 *  The  truth  of  this  individual  trait,  as  narrated  of  Peter,  is  confirmed  by 
 the  subsequent  development  of  his  character.  The  consciousness  of  his 
 sinfulness  and  distance  from  the  perfectly  Holy  One  must,  indeed,  have 
 remained  ;  and  his  sense  of  the  loftiness  of  Christ  could  be  diminished  by 
 no  degree  of  intimacy  with  him.  But  there  was  this  great  difference 
 between  the  two  periods  of  his  religious  life,  that  in  the  latter,  as  he 
 imbibed  more  and  more  the  spirit  of  communion  with  Christ,  he  felt 
 himself  no  more  repelled  as  a  sinner  from  Him  in  whom  the  source  of 
 Divine  life  for  men  was  revealed,  but  attracted  to  him,  not  merely  by  his 
 own  spiritual  affinities,  but  by  his  personal  experience,  that  He  "  had  the 
 tcords  of  eternal  life."  The  redeeming  power  of  the  Divine  One  was  more 
 and  more  fully  revealed  to  him  ;  the  divinity  appeared  to  him  no  more 
 as  a  merely  outward,  but  as  an  inward  power.  The  central  source 
 of  all  the  individual  rays  of  Divinity  shone  forth  upon  his  conscious- 
 ness, and  the  separate  rays  of  themselves,  therefore,  appeared  in  a.  new 
 light.    . 
 
174  CHRIST  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 The  same  impression,  also,  caused  Andrew,  James,  and  Jokn,"^ 
 to  join  themselves  from  thenceforth  more  closely  to  Jesus. 
 
 §  115. — The  Calling  of  Nathanael. 
 In  the  case  of  a  John,  the  full  impression  of  Christ's  person- 
 ality, first  received,  prepared  the  depths  of  his  youthful  soul  for 
 sudden  and  separate  impressions  of  the  Di\'inity  of  Jesus,  which 
 soon  brought  him  to  a  complete  decision.  But  the  naiTow 
 prejudices  of  a  Nathanael  had  to  be  overcome  by  a  separate 
 supernatural  sign  before  he  coxild  receive  the  impression  of 
 Christ's  manifestation  and  nature  as  a  whole.  "When  Philip 
 fii-st  announced  to  him  that  Jesus  oi  Nazareth  yfn^  the  Messiah, 
 he  expi-essed  both  surprise  and  incredidity  that  anything  so 
 liigh  shovdd  come  forth  from  a  comer  like  GalUee.  Instead  of 
 discussing  the  point,  Philip  appeals  to  his  own  experience,  and 
 tells  him  to  "  come  and  see."  Nathanael's  prejudice  was  not 
 strong  enough  to  prevent  his  comphance,  or  to  hinder  him  from 
 being  convinced  by  facts.  Christ  sees  and  esteems  his  love  of 
 truth,  and  receives  him  with  the  words,  "  Beliold  an  Israelite, 
 indeed,  in  lohom  there  is  no  guile'"  (a  true  and  honest-hearted 
 member  of  the  Theocratic  nation).  The  candid  youth  is  sui-- 
 prised  to  find  himself  known  by  a  stranger.  He  expresses  his 
 astonishment,  and  Christ  increases  the  impression  made  upon 
 his  feelings,  by  a  more  striking  proof  still  of  his  supernatui*al 
 knowledge,  telling  him  that  liis  glance,  piercing  the  barriers  of 
 space,  had  rested  on  him  before  Pliilip  called  Mm  as  he  stood 
 "  vmder  the  fig-tree  "  (this  probably  had  some  reference  to  the 
 thoughts  which  occupied  liis  mind  under  the  fig-tree).  His 
 prejudices  are  readily  remoA'ed  [he  acknowledged  Chiist  as 
 "  Son  of  God  and  King  of  Israel  "J;  Clirist  admits  that  he  is  in 
 the  fii-st  stage  of  faith,c  but  tells  him  that  his  faith  must  develop 
 itself  from  this  beginning,  and  advance  to  a  higher  aim  (John  i. 
 50,  51).  A  faith  thiis  resting  on  a  single  manifestation  might 
 easily  be  perplexed  by  some  other  single  one,  that  might  not 
 meet  its  expectations.  That  is  a  genuine  faith  (according  to 
 Christ)  which  cari'ies  itself  to  the  very  central-point  of  revela- 
 tion, seizes  the  intuition  of  Divinity  in  its  immediate  nature 
 
 •»  Luke  says  (v.  10)  that  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  were 
 "  partners  witli  Simon  ;"  they  were,  therefore,  eye-witnesses  of  that  event, 
 and  received  the  same  impression  from  it.  In  Matthew's  statement  (iv. 
 21)  they  were  with  their  father,  in  another  vessel,  "  mending  their  nets." 
 This  agrees  well  enough  with  Luke,  since  he  likewise  mentions  two 
 vessels,  and — not,  indeed,  the  mending,  but — the  washing  of  the  much- 
 used  nets.  c  See  p.  14G. 
 
THE  CHANGE  OF  WATER  INTO  WINE.  175 
 
 and  manifestation  as  a  whole,  and  obtains,  through  immediate 
 contact  vnth  the  Divine  in  the  Spirit,  a  stand-point  which 
 doubt  can  never  reach.  ISTathanael  was  to  see  "  greater  things" 
 than  this  isolated  ray  of  the  supernatural.  He  was  to  see  the 
 "■heavem  opened  upon  the  Son  of  Man"  into  whose  intimacy  he 
 was  about  to  enter,  and  "Angels  of  God  ascending  and  de- 
 scending "  upon  him.  He  was  to  learn  Christ  in  his  true  rela- 
 tion to  the  development  of  humanity,  as  Him  through  whom 
 human  nature  was  to  be  glorified ;  through  whom  the  locked- 
 up  heavens  were  again  to  be  opened  ;  the  communion  with 
 heaven  and  earth  restored  ;  to  whom  and  from  whom  all  the 
 powers  of  heaven  were  to  flow.  Such  was  to  be  his  Divine 
 glory  in  its  full  manifestation  ;  all  other  signs  were  but  indi- 
 vidual tokens  of  it. 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 
 JESUS  AT  CANA. 
 §  116.— r/te  Chanfie  of  Water  into  Wine.  —  Character  and  Imjwt  of  the 
 Miracle. — Little  Imp-ession  made  upon  the  People. 
 Three  days  after  Chi-ist  had  thus  set  forth  the  mode  in 
 which  he  from  that  time  should  reveal  himself,  he  displayed,  at 
 a  wedding  in  CANAjti  ^he  fulness  of  "  the  power  of  heaven " 
 streaming  forth  from  himself,  which  was  to  transfigin-e,  as  he 
 had  said,  both  nature  and  humanity.  The  -wine  provided  for 
 the  occasion  gave  oixt,  and  Mary  requested  her  Son  to  supply 
 the  lack  by  employing  the  powers  that  were  at  his  command. 
 Having  recognized  him  as  Messiah,  she  necessarily  expected 
 him  to  work  miracles,  and  this  expectation  was  increased  by 
 the  impression  which  he  had  made  in  the  short  time  that  had 
 elapsed  after  his  consecration  to  the  Messianic  mission.  She 
 looked  impatiently  for  the  hour  when  he  should  reveal  himself 
 in  his  gloiy,  as  Messiah,  before  the  eyes  of  all  men. 
 
 But  Christ,  although  he  held  all  piu'ely  human  feehngs 
 sacred,  yet  demanded  that  "man  should  deny  father  and 
 mother  "  when  the  cause  of  God  required  it.  He  had  now  to 
 apply  this  principle  to  his  own  mother,  and,  conscioiis  of  his 
 Divine  character  and  calhng,  to  rebuke  the  request  thus  made 
 to  him,  and  the  feelings  which  prompted  it.  "  What  have  I  to 
 do  vnth  thee  1  mine  hour  is  not  yet  come/'  as  if  he  had  said, 
 "  Oui'  wishes  lie  apart.  My  Di\ine  powers  cannot  be  made 
 subservient  to  earthly  aims  and  motives.     My  acts  obey  a 
 
 ■*  It  is  to  be  remarked  that  Nathanael  was  "  the  son  of  Tholmai,"  i.  e. 
 Bartholomew,  of  Cana  ;  which  fact  may  confirm  our  view  of  the  order  of 
 the  events. 
 
176  CHRIST  AT  CANA. 
 
 higher  plan  and  loftier  laws,  in  accordance  with  wliich  each  of 
 them  has  its  appointed  time.  As  yet,  the  moment  for  revealing 
 myself  in  my  Messianic  dignity,  by  miracles  apparent  to  all 
 eyes,  has  not  anived." 
 
 Christ  intended,  as  he  here  intimates,  to  come  forth  graduaUy 
 fi'om  his  obscurity.  He  hatl  no  idea  of  displaying  his  glory,  as 
 Mary  wished,  at  once.  Still,  as  she  might  have  been  accus- 
 tomed to  tidie  from  Ids  words  and  look  more  than  he  uttered, 
 she  probably  imderstood  that  her  Avish  would  be  met  so  far  as 
 the  fact  was  concerned,  though  from  a  point  of  view  totally 
 different  iiom  her  own.  And  so  it  was  ;  the  thing  was  done, 
 but  in  no  very  striking  way,  nor  in  a  way  calculated  to  reveal 
 his  Messianic  glory  to  all  eyes. 
 
 As  for  the  cliaracter  of  the  miracle  itself,  we  cannot  place  it, 
 as  some  do,  among  the  highest  of  Chiist's  miraculous  acts.  We 
 conceive  it  thus  :  He  brought  out  of  watei*,  by  his  creative 
 energy,  a  substance  (wine),  which  is  naturally  the  joint  product 
 of  the  growth  of  the  vine,  and  of  human  labour,  water  being 
 only  one  of  the  co-operating  factors  ;  and  thus  substituted  his 
 creative  power  for  various  natural  and  artificial  processes. 
 But  we  are  not  justified  in  inferring  that  the  water  Avas 
 changed  into  imt/mt/aciured  ivine ;  but  that,  by  his  direct  agency, 
 he  imparted  to  it  powers  ca])able  of  producing  the  same  effects  ; 
 that  he  inteimfiecl  (so  to  speak)  the  powers  of  water  into 
 those  of  wine. •=  Indeed,  tliis  latter  view  of  the  mii'acle  conforms 
 better  to  its  spiritual  import  than  the  former.^ 
 
 It  is  not  a  sufficient  explanation  of  the  fined  cause  and 
 moral  beainngs  of  the  miiacle  to  say  that  Christ  intended, 
 
 •  I  would  be  pleased  to  believe,  if  I  could,  that  the  view  here  taken  hail 
 as  old  ecclesiastical  authority  as  the  late  Banmgarten-Cntsius  supposes  he 
 has  found  for  it,  in  the  ancient  hjTiin  "  De  Epiphania  Domini  "  {Daniel, 
 Thesaurus  HjTunologicus,  i.  j>.  19) :  "  Vel  hydriis  plenis  aqua  vini  sapotxm 
 jnfuderis."  But  the  word  supm-em  can  hardly  l)e  made  emjihatic.  In 
 the  sense  of  the  hymn,  the  words  "  ^^ni  saporem  iufinidere, "  probably 
 mean  nothing  more  than  "  in  vinum  mutare." 
 
 '  Compare,  as  analogie.-s,  the  mineral  springs  in  which  by  natural  pro- 
 cesses, new  j)owers  are  given  to  water  ;  and  the  ancient  accounts  of  springs 
 which  sent  forth  waters  like  wine — intoxicating  water  :  "  IIoXX^xo*"  ^'  "'c' 
 Kpi)vai  a\  (I'tv  TTori^wTipai  Kai  oivioStaTipai,  u»c  >;  Trtpi  n«^X«-yoi'(a»', 
 Trpof  i'/v  (jiaai  roi'c  iy\iiopiuvQ  iiTroirivnv  irpoenovrnf." — Athenaus,  Deip. 
 ii.  §  17,  18.  Of  another  water,  says  Theopompus,  "  toi'C  TrivoiraQ  aifrit 
 filOvaKtaOat,  KaOa  Kal  tovs  top  oii'oj'." 
 
 »  The  supposition  that  John's  Gospel  was  written  by  some  one  of  Alex- 
 andrian education,  with  a  tendency  to  Gnosticism,  is  refuted  by  tliis 
 narrative.  Such  a  man  would  never  have  assigned  sudi  an  object  and  such 
 a  scene  for  Christ's  first  miracle,    yuch  a  one  could  not  l>ave  invented  and 
 
THE  WATER  CHANGED  TO  WIXE.  177 
 
 by  thus  exliibiting  his  gloiy,  to  incite  and  confirm  a  faith  in 
 his  calling.  We  must  seek  its  import  i-ather  by  contemplating 
 it  in  reference  to  his  moi-al  self-revelation  as  a  whole  ;  by  in- 
 quiiing  how  the  peculiar  S^iirit  of  Christ  was  reflected  and 
 illustrated  in  tliis  single  act. 
 
 While  in  retirement,  he  had  i-esembled,  in  the  austerity  of 
 his  Ufe,  the  ascetic  preacher  of  repentance,  John  the  Baptist. 
 Koio,  however,  in  the  very  beginning  of  liLs  pul^lic  labours,  no 
 longer  in  solitude,  but  mingling  in  the  social  life  of  men,  he 
 enters  into  all  human  interests,  shares  all  hmuan  feelings,  and 
 thus  at  once  presents  a  contrast  to  the  severe  legalism  of  John, 
 In  the  joyous  circle  of  a  wedding,  he  performs  liis  first  miracle 
 to  gi-atify  a  .social  want.  Thus  he  sanctities  connexions, 
 feeUngs,  joys,  that  are  purely  lumian,  by  his  personal  presence, 
 and  by  untblding  his  Di\'ine  powers  in  such  a  circle  and  on 
 such  an  occasion.  In  this  view  the  miracle  gives  the  spirit  of 
 Christian  Ethics,  whose  task  it  is  to  apply  to  all  hunian  rela- 
 tions the  image  of  Christ  as  stamped  upon  liis  self-revealed  life. 
 But  it  has  a  fiu-ther  and  a  great  symboHcal  impoi-t  :  Christ 
 employed  water,  one  of  the  commonest  sxipports  of  life,  as  the 
 vehicle  of  a  higher  power  :  so  it  is  the  peculiarity  of  Chiist's 
 Spirit  and  labours,  the  peculiaiity  of  the  woi'k  of  Christianity, 
 not  to  destroy  Avhat  is  natiu-al,  but  to  ennoble  and  transfigiu-e 
 it ;  to  enable  it,  as  the  organ  of  Di^ine  ])owers,  to  produce 
 effects  beyond  its  original  capacities.  To  energize  the  power 
 of  Water  into  that  of  Wine  is,  indeed,  in  every  sense,  the  pecu- 
 liar ofiice  of  Christianity. 
 
 This  first  stay  of  Christ  in  Galilee  after  his  inauguration  as 
 Messiali  was  attended  Avith  important  results  in  the  training 
 of  the  narrower  cii-cle  of  liis  disciples  :  but  he  does  not  appear, 
 in  that  .short  time,  to  have  made  any  lasting  impre&sion  ujjon 
 the  people.  There  were  few  so  ingenuous  in  their  preposses- 
 sions a-s  a  Nathanael ;  the  prejudices  of  many  against  the  "  son 
 of  the  carpenter  at  Nazareth"  coidd  not  be  removed  until 
 they  had  obtained  a  -siA-id  impression  of  his  public  labours  at 
 the  feast  of  the  Passover  in  tlie  metropolis.     Even  in  tliis 
 
 put  into  the  mouth  of  the  "  ruler  of  the  feast  "  the  clumsy  jest  which  he 
 uttered  (John  ii.  9),  (although  we  do  not  (as  some  do)  lay  stress  upon  it, 
 and  infer  that  the  guests  were  nearly  drunk).  Any  one  Avriting  a  history 
 of  (."lirist  apologetically,  and  with  a  view  to  exalt  his  character  according 
 to  the  tendency  of  those  times,  would  rather  have  altered  and  adorned  a 
 tnie  narrative  of  such  facts  (if  such  existed)  than  have  invented  a  false 
 one  bea^ng  against  his  object ;  or  if  he  had  some  symbolical  meaning  in 
 his  Aiew,  he  would  certainly  have  stated  it. 
 
 If 
 
178  CKRIST's  FIllST  MINISTRY  AT  JERUS^VLEM. 
 
 beginning  of  Ms  laboui-s  in  Galilee,  he  had  probably  found  occa- 
 sion to  apply  the  Jewish  proverb,  "  a  jyropliet  liath  no  Jwnour  in 
 his  own  cotintry."  ^ 
 
 CHAPTER  IV. 
 
 FIRST  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM  TO  ATTEND  THE  FEAST  OF  THE 
 
 PASSOVER. 
 
 §  \n.—The  Purifying  of  Hie  Temple. 
 
 During  the  feast  of  the  Passovex*,  Jesus  appeared  at  Jeiii- 
 
 salem  in  his  prophetic  calling,  and  accredited  it  by  miracles.^ 
 
 On  -visiting  the  Temple,  he  found  its  worship  distui-bed  by 
 
 disoi'ders  which  desecrated  the  holy  place — a  picture  of  the 
 
 general  secularization  of  the  Theocracy .J 
 
 For  the  convenience  of  the  Jews  from  a  distance  who  wished 
 to  offer  saciifices,  booths  had  been  erected  in  the  Temple-court, 
 in  which  everything  necessary  for  the  purpose  was  kept  for 
 
 John  iv.  44  :  doubtless  referring  to  this  period  ;  a  supposition  which 
 the  use  of  yap  renders  probable.  Thus  interpreted,  we  should  have  John's 
 testimony  that  Christ  had  already  sought  to  appear  as  a  teacher  in  Galilee. 
 
 '  Although  the  Purifying  of  the  Temple  doubtless  belongs  to  an  early 
 period  of  Christ's  teaching,  it  is  by  no  means  clear,  from  John's  account, 
 that  Christ  had  not  taught  and  wi-ought  miracles  before ;  indeed,  the 
 manner  in  which  the  priests  addressed  him  rather  shows  the  contrary. 
 
 J  Here  a  difficulty  arises  ;  the  cleansing  of  the  Temple  is  placed  Ijy  Jolm 
 at  the  begiwning  of  Christ's  ministry,  during  his  tirst  stay  at  Jerusalem  ;  by 
 the  other  Evangelists  at  the  end  of  his  labouns,  during  his  last  stay  there. 
 Unless  the  same  event  took  place  imcc,  and  in  the  very  same  way  (which 
 is  hardly  probable),  either  John  or  the  others  must  have  deviated  from  the 
 clu-onological  order.  It  may  appear  more*  probable  that  an  act  implying 
 so  great  power  over  the  priests,  and  the  throng  of  buyers  and  sellers,  was 
 done  after  his  last  triumphal  entry,  when  the  people  were,  for  the  moment, 
 enthusiastic  in  his  favour,  than  at  the  beginning  of  his  labours.  On  the 
 other  hand,  he  would  have  had  more  occasion,  after  his  triumphal  entry, 
 to  avoid  everything  that  could  occasion  public  disturbance,  or  wear  the 
 appearance  of  employing  eartiily  power.  As  for  the  dr^cult//  of  the  thing 
 at  his  opening  ministry,  no  one  can  say  what  influences  the  immediate 
 power  of  God  might  produce  upon  the  minds  and  feelings  of  men.  It  is 
 certainly  less  easy  to  account  for  such  an  anachronism  in  John,  whose 
 account  is  all  of  a  piece,  and  accurate  in  chronological  order,  than  in  the 
 other  Evangelists  ;  the  latter  might  naturaUy  connect  a  feet  like  this,  well 
 adapted  to  oral  tradition,  with  the  Uuit  entry,  which  was  the  only  one 
 mentioned  in  the  circle  of  accounts  which  they  compiled.  According  to 
 John  (ii.  18)  the  Jews  put  the  question,  "  What  sign  showcst  thou  us?" 
 &c.  ;  in  Luke  xx.  2,  the  Sanhedrim  ask,  "  Brj  what  authority  doest  thou, 
 these  things  ?  "  &c.  It  might  Ije  supposed  that  this  last  question  suggested 
 the  statement  of  the  event  which  gave  rise  to  it,  if  it  were  certain  (as, 
 indeed,  it  is  not)  that  in  tlie  passage  in  Luke  it  has  this  s]iecial  reference 
 to  the  act,  and  not  a  reference  to  Christ's  teaching  in  general  at  that 
 time. 
 
PURIFYING  THE  TEMPLE.  17& 
 
 sale,  and  money-changers  were  also  allowed  to  take  tlieir  stand 
 there  ;  but,  as  might  have  been  expected  from  the  existing 
 cori-uption  of  the  Jewish  people,  many  foul  abuses  had  grown 
 up.  The  merchants  and  brokers  made  everji:hing  subserv-ieut 
 to  their  avarice,  and  their  noisy  hucksteiing  was  a  gi'eat  dis- 
 turbance to  the  worship  of  the  Temple. 
 
 It  was  Christ's  calling  to  combat  the  corruptions  of  the  secu- 
 larized Theocracy,  and  to  predict  the  judgments  of  God  against 
 them.  And  as  the  general  desecration  of  all  that  was  holy 
 was  imaged  in  these  profane  doings  at  the  Temple,  he  first 
 manifested  against  them  his  holy  anger.  Threatening  the 
 traders  with  a  scourge  of  small  cords,  he  drove  them  out  of 
 the  Temple  ;  and  said  to  those  who  sold  doves,  "  Take,  these 
 things  hence ;  make  not  my  Father's  Jwuse  a  house  of  mei'- 
 chanclise."  ^ 
 
 These  words  are  not  only  applicable  to  the  special  case,  but 
 also  contain  a  severe  reproof  of  that  carnal  tendency  which 
 debases  God's  house  into  a  merchant's  exchange.  The  hfting 
 up  of  the  scoui'ge  could  not  have  been  in  token  of  physical 
 force,  foi' — apart  from  Christ's  character — what  was  one  man 
 against  so  many  1  It  could  only  be  a  symbolical  sign — a  sign 
 of  the  judgments  of  God  that  were  so  soon  to  fall  upon  those 
 who  had  coriiipted  the  Theocracy.  ^ 
 
 There  was  no  mii-acle,  in  the  proper  sense,  -svi'ought  here, 
 but  a  proof  of  the  confident  Divine  power  -with  which  he 
 influenced  the  minds  of  men  ;  an  example  of  the  direct  impres- 
 sion of  Divinity,  of  the  power  of  the  manifestation  of  the  Holy 
 One  as  a  punisher,  in  rousing  the  slumbering  conscience. 
 Origen,  who  foimd  many  difficulties  in  tliis  narrative,"^  and  was 
 inclined  to  regard  it  as  ideal  and  symbolical,  thought  that  if  it 
 were  to  be  received  as  history,"  the  miracle  Avould  be  greater 
 than  the  change  of  water  into  wine,  or,  indeed,  any  other  of 
 Christ's  deeds ;  as  in  this  case  he  would  not  have  had  to  act 
 upon  inert  and  lifeless  matter,  but  upon  living  beings  capable 
 
 ''  John,  at  most,  alludes  to  Isa.  Ivi.  7  ;  Jer.  vii.  11  ;  but  the  other 
 Gospels  give  direct  citations.  This  is  another  proof  of  the  originality  of 
 John'.?  narrative. 
 
 '  How  absurd  would  it  be  to  attribute  the  irwention  of  such  an  incident 
 as  this  to  a  man  of  Alexandrian  culture  !  Its  utter  repugnance  to  Alex- 
 andrian views  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  Origen  considered  it  one  of  the 
 greatest  objections  to  the  credibility  of  the  narrative. 
 
 "  T.  ix.  in  Joann. 
 
 "  Origen,  however,  exaggerated  the  throng  that  Christ  had  to  expel  into 
 ih<msands.  Jolm.  more  simply  than  the  other  Evangelists,  S[)eaks  only  of 
 the  expulsion  of  the  sellers;  they,  of  the  buyers  also. 
 
 k2 
 
1 80  Christ's  first  ministry  at  Jerusalem. 
 
 of  resistance.  But,  on  the  contrary,  no  miracle,  in  the  proper 
 sense,  wa.s  -wrought,  precisely  because  Christ  had  to  operate 
 upon  rtien,  endowed,  it  is  true,  with  a  will  capable  of  resisting, 
 but  also  Avith  susceptibilities  that  had  to  yield  to  the  moral 
 and  religious  force  of  an  immediate  Divine  impression,  and 
 with  conscience,  that  slumbering  consciousness  of  GrOD,  which 
 man  can  never  wholly  abnegate,  and  which  may  be  roused  by 
 a  commanding  holy  power,  in  a  way  that  is  not  to  be  calcu- 
 lated. There  are  many  things  in  history  that  must  be  re- 
 garded as  mytlis  by  minds  that  judge  only  by  the  standard  of 
 every-day  ideality. 
 
 §  lis. — Tlte  Saying  of  Christ,  "Destroy  this  Ttmple,"  dec. — Additional 
 Exposition  of  it  (jivui  hy  John. 
 
 Some  of  the  priests  asked  Chxist  by  what  signs  be  could 
 prove  his  authority  to  act  thus.  He  gave  them  an  ansAver,  at 
 once  reproof  and  prophecy,  "  Destroy  this  temi^le,  and  in  three 
 days  I  ivill  raise  it  tip." 
 
 The  most  natural  and  apparent  interpretation  of  these  words, 
 according  to  the  circimistances  under  wliich  they  were  ut- 
 tered, laying  no  particular  stress  upon  the  specification  of 
 "  three  days,"  would  be  the  following  :  "  When  you,  hy  your  tin- 
 godliness,  which  desecrates  all  that  is  holy,  have  brought  about  tlie 
 destruction  o/tlie  Temple,  then  will  I  build  ii  up  again;''  alluding 
 (according  to  the  mode  of  conception  everyAvhere  prevalent  in 
 the  ^/"'  Testament)  to  the  relation  between  Christianity  and 
 /liironolo"  The  kingdom  of  GoD  had  a  common  basis  iu  both  ; 
 so  great/-  spiritual  Temple  which  Christ  is  to  erect  among  men 
 done  aPefore^  represented  as  the  Temple  at  Jerusalem,  rebxiilt 
 ®"j  "^is  destruction  ;  the  latter  being  a  symbol  of  the  destnic- 
 f,r.u  of  the  entire  Jewish  worship,  which  was  identified  with 
 the  Temple  itself.  The  Temple  and  the  kingdom  of  God  tu-e 
 identical  in  Judaism  and  in  Christianity  :  °  there,  in  a  form 
 particular  and  typical  ;  Ivere,  in  a  form  coiTespondiug  to  its 
 essence,  and  intended  for  all  men  and  all  ages.  As  Christ  is 
 conscious  that  the  desecrated  and  iniined  Temple  will  be  raised 
 lip  by  him  in  greater  .'splendour,  he  acts  ujjon  tliis  conscious- 
 ness, as  reformer  of  the  old  Temple,  in  the  very  begiiniiug  of 
 those  labours  which  are  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  new  iind 
 spiritual  one. 
 
 "  Just  as  the  "  House  of  God  "  (Heb.  iii.  2-C)  is  made  the  s.aiue  in  both 
 dispen-satioiis  ;  as  tlie  later  one  fulfils  the  law  of  the  older.  I  cannot  see 
 any  force  in  Ktintfs  objections  (Stud.  u.  Krit.  1630,  i.  VH).  The  Katvov 
 is  already  implied  in  the  iytipuv. 
 
"destroy  this  temple,"  etc.  181 
 
 But  what  a  glance  into  futurity  was  required  in  him  thus  to 
 foretell  not  only  the  ruin  of  the  Temple  by  the  guilt  of  the 
 Jews — the  dissolution  of  their  worship  being  necessarily  iden- 
 tified therewith — but  also  the  erection  of  the  spiritual  Edifice 
 that  was  to  take  its  place;  to  pi*edict  in  himself  the  mightiest 
 acliievement  in  the  histoiy  of  humanity,  at  a  time  when  but  a 
 few  apparently  insignificant  men  had  joined  him,  and  even 
 they  had  but  a  distant  dawning  idea  of  what  he  intended  to 
 accomplish  !  So  vast  a  meaning  was  involved  in  those  dark 
 words — dark,  as  all  prophecies  are  dai-k  !  An  analogous 
 meaning  was  contained  in  his  expi-ession  on  another  occasion, 
 "Here  is  something  greater  than  the  Temple ;"^  showing,  per- 
 haps, that  he  was  accustomed  thus  to  point  from  the  tem- 
 porary Temple  to  the  higher  one  which  had  already  appeared, 
 and  which  would  still  fmther  reveal  itself  in  the  course  of  his 
 labours. 
 
 Among  the  accusations  brought  against  Christ  hj  the  false 
 ■svitnesses,  at  a  later  period,  was  this,  that  he  had  said,  " I  am 
 able  to  ilestroy  the  Temple  of  God,  and  to  built  it  in  three  days."i 
 Some  may  suppose  that  the  editor  of  our  Greek  Matthew  may 
 have  been  ignorant  of  the  occasion  and  the  tnie  sense  on  wliich 
 the  words  were  uttered  by  Christ,  and  therefore  attributed 
 them  entirely  to  the  invention  of  the  ^\•itnesses.  It  is  likely, 
 however,  that  the  testimony  was  called  faUe  by  Matthew, 
 because  the  "s\T,tnesses  peiwerted,  and  put  a  false  construction 
 on  Cluist's  real  words  ;  he  had  not  said  that  "  he  would  destroy 
 the  Temple,"  but  (what  is  veiy  different)  that  its  destinictiou 
 would  be  brought  about  by  the  guilt  of  the  Jews.  The  priests 
 might  veiy  naturally  have  falsely  reported  the  words^  in  order 
 to  i^ut  a  sense  upon  them  that  would  not  bear  against  them- 
 selves so  closely,  and  which,  at  the  same  time,  would  aj^pear 
 more  obnoxious  to  the  people.  In  Mark  xiv.  58,  the  words 
 are  still  more  perverted  by  the  false  ^vitnesses  :  "  /  will  destroy 
 this  Temple  tluit  is  made  vAth  Jtands,  and  loithin  three  days  I 
 vjill  bnild  another."^  Isot  that  they  understood  Christ  that  he 
 would  l>uild  a  spiritual  temple  instead  of  the  visible  one  ;  but, 
 probably,  that  he  could,  after  destroying  the  latter,  replace  it 
 in  gi'eater  gloiy  by  magic  (after  the  ^isiouarj'  representatioiLS 
 of  the  Cliihasts),  or  cause  one  to  descend  from  heaven.  Even 
 one  of  the  thieves  on  the   cross  malevolently  quoted   these 
 
 V  See  above,  p.  92.  i  Matt.  xxvi.  61. 
 
 '  Mark  observes  (xiv.  50) :  "But  iKilhcr  so  did  their  vAttteas  ofp-ec  to- 
 gether." 
 
182  Christ's  first  mixistry  at  Jerusalem. 
 
 ■words  against  Christ.  All  tlus  shows  that,  whatever  amaze- 
 ment the  words  excited,  they  had  made  a  great  and  general 
 impression,  s 
 
 The  faithfulness  of  John  is  strikingly  sho^\'n  by  the  way  in 
 which  he  distinguishes  his  own  interpretation  of  these  words 
 of  Christ  from  the  words  themselves.*  Christ,  iu  uttering 
 them  (according  to  John's  explanation),  pointed  to  his  o^vn 
 body  [referring  to  the  resurrection]. 
 
 Although  this  does  not  appear  to  bear  so  directly  upon  the 
 
 '^  It  is  a  special  confirmation  of  John's  Gospel  that  he  alone  gives  the 
 jiatural  occasion  for  the  utterance  of  these  words  by  Christ,  and  their 
 original  form.  Strauss,  however,  thinks  that  the  original  form  of  the 
 «xpression  was  that  put  into  Stephen's  mouth  by  his  accusers.  Acts  vi.  14  ; 
 •and  that  the  "  three  days"  were  added  Efubsequently,  with  reference  to 
 the  resurrection.  But  these  are  not  Stephen's  words,  nor  is  it  even  attri- 
 buted to  him  that  he  quoted  Christ's,  but  only  that  he  uttered  a  thought 
 of  his  own,  perhaps  derived  from  them.  At  any  rate,  the  mention  of  the 
 ■'  three  days  "  would  have  been  imsuited  to  the  thought  ascribed  to 
 Stephen.  The  interpolation  of  the  words  "  three  days"  is  more  impro- 
 bable, as  neither  Matthew  nor  Mark  explain  them  at  all ;  on  the  contrary, 
 it  is  much  more  likely  that  the  presence  of  the  words  led  to  their  being 
 applied  subsequently  to  the  resurrection,  than  that  the  resurrection  itself 
 led  to  their  interpolation. 
 
 '  It  may  be  disputed  whether  John's  interpretation  is  intended  to  give 
 the  exact  sense  in  which  Christ  used  the  words  [or  only  accommodated  them 
 to  the  resurrection,  as  is  perhaps  implied  in  the  22n(i  verse,  "  when,  there- 
 fore, he  ivas  risen  from  tlie  dead,  his  disciples  remembered  that  he  had  said 
 this  unto  tJiem ' '].  An  instance  of  such  accommodation,  of  words  uttered 
 by  Christ,  in  a  sense  different  from  the  original  one,  is  found  in  John  xviii. 
 .9  ;  although,  in  this  case,  John  must  have  known  that  he  applied  them 
 diflFerently,  and  was  glad  to  find  them  admit  such  application.  John's 
 authority,  in  regard  to  the  sense  of  the  words  of  the  Master  whom  he 
 followed  so  devoutly,  and  whose  sayings  he  preserved  so  faithfully,  is 
 necessarily  of  great  weight ;  still,  in  the  explanation  of  special  expressions 
 [as  to  their  original  import],  the  natural  relations  and  connexions  might 
 compel  us  to  deviate  from  him.  Nor  would  this  at  all  conflict  with  Inspi- 
 ration, rightly  understood,  which  would  only  require  that  the  explanation 
 given  by  the  Evangdlist  should  be  true  in  itself,  although  the  words  might 
 not  be  applied  with  Christ's  original  meaning.  He  would  none  the  less 
 be  the  proclaimer  of  the  whole  truth  made  known  to  him  by  the  illumina- 
 tion of  the  Holy  Ghost.  The  mention  of  the  "  three  days"  (which  cannot, 
 indeed,  be  easily  explained,  except  by  the  resurrection)  might  have  led 
 the  author  of  this  Gospel,  who  always  dwelt  with  peculiar  fondness  upon 
 everything  that  concerned  the  person  of  Christ,  at  once  to  think  of  his 
 resurrection.  The  interpretation  given  by  the  Evangelist  is  a  furtljer 
 proof  against  the  theory  that  this  Gospel  had  a  later  Hellenistic  or  Alex- 
 andrian origin.  It  would  have  accorded  much  better  with  the  taste  ot 
 that  school  to  apply  Christ's  words,  in  the  grand  prophetic  liearing,  to  the 
 building  of  the  spiritual  Temple  (the  i-abg  Trvtv^iariKoc,  in  place  of  the 
 vavg  aiaOijroi;)  th.an  to  the  resurrection  of  his  body. 
 
NICODEJIUS.  183 
 
 aim  of  Christ  at  the  time,  and  upon  the  question  of  the  Jews, 
 as  the  view  given  above,  it  yet  may  involve  the  following 
 deeper  import,  \iz.  :  "  The  Temple  at  Jerusalem  is  only  a 
 temporaiy  place  consecrated  to  God;  but  Chi'ist,  in  liis  human 
 nature,  shall  build  up  the  everlasting  Temple  of  God  for  man. 
 The  former  shall  be  destroyed,  and  not  rebuilt ;  but  the  body 
 of  Chiist,  the  temple  of  the  indwelling  Divine  nature,  shall  rise 
 triumphant  out  of  death."  " 
 
 The  fii'st  interpretation  seems  to  us  more  simple,  and  to 
 connect  itself  more  naturally  with  Christ's  intention  ;  but  the 
 latter  has  the  advantage  in  gi'\dng  a  more  intelligible  bearing 
 to  the  "three  days."^' 
 
 §  119. — Interview  of  Christ  with  Nicodemus. 
 
 (1.)  Disposition  of  the  People  and  Pharisees  towards  Christ. — ^Dispositions 
 
 of  Nicodemus. 
 
 Many  of  the  people  were  attracted  to  Christ  during  this  his 
 first  stay  at  Jerusalem.  And  although  the  prevailing  Phari- 
 saic pai*ty  looked  upon  him  with  an  eye  of  suspicion,  they 
 coiUd  not  openly  oppose  him,  as  he  had  not  as  yet  aiTayed 
 himself  against  their  statutes  and  traditions,  but  directed  his 
 blows  against  abiuses  which  no  one  dared  to  defend.  And  even 
 of  the  Pharisees  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  all  were  hyjio- 
 crites,  governed  only  by  selfish  motives  ;  doubtless  there  were 
 many  whose  piety,  however  debased  by  the  en-ors  of  their 
 entu'e   system,  was   yet   sincere.'^'      Such   could   not   remain 
 
 "  I  agree  with  Kling's  (1.  c.)  refutation  of  certain  modem  objections  to 
 John's  explanation,  and  also  with  his  view  of  the  impossibility  of  connect- 
 ing the  two  interpretations  together. 
 
 "  Many  passages  have  been  quoted  by  others  to  prove  that  "  three  days  " 
 must  necessarily  mean  a  time  of  short  duration,  but  I  am  not  yet  convinced 
 of  it.  In  general,  it  means  "a  round  number,"  and  we  must  learn  from 
 the  context  whether  a  longer  or  shorter  ])eriod  is  intended.  In  this  case 
 the  contrast  with  the  length  of  time  taken  to  build  the  Temple  justifies  us 
 in  assuming  that  a  short  period  is  meant.  The  new  spiritual  Temple,  the 
 progressive  development  of  the  new  spiritual  kingdom  of  God,  did  in  fact 
 immediately  follow  the  overthrow  of  the  old  form  of  the  Theocracy. 
 
 "  It  is  probable,  in  the  nature  of  things,  that  although  the  Pharisees, 
 scribes,  and  chief  men,  as  a  whole,  were  iU-disposed  to  Christ,  there  were 
 among  them  individual  susceptible  minds.  In  the  first  Gospels  we  find 
 Joseph  of  Arimathea — in  Matt.  ix.  18,  a  ruler;  in  Mark  xii.  28,  a  scribe — 
 manifesting  an  interest  in  his  Divine  calling,  and  fi-ora  these  we  may  infer 
 the  existence  of  other  cases.  There  is  no  ground,  therefore,  for  Sti'axiss's 
 assertion  that  the  case  of  Nicodemus  is  improbable.  Utterly  unhistorical, 
 too,  is  his  assertion  (i.  633)  that  the  accounts  of  rich  and  chief  men  coming 
 secretly  to  Christ  (and  so  of  Nicodemus)  were  invented  at  a  later  period, 
 ■to  remove  the  reproacli  brought  against  the  primitive  Christians,   "  that 
 
184  Christ's  first  stay  ix  Jerusalem. 
 
 without  Divine  impressions  from  the  words  and  works  of 
 Chiist. 
 
 A  specimen  of  this  better  class  was  Nicodemus.''  To  him, 
 esj^ecially,  the  miracles  of  Jesus  appeared  to  be  works  tran- 
 scending all  merely  human  power,  and  undeniable  signs  of  a 
 Divine  calling.  Beyond  tliis  general  impression,  however,  he 
 had  no  clear  views  of  Clixist's  person  or  mission ;  and  his 
 desire  to  obtain  more  definite  infoi-mation  was  the  gi-eater, 
 because  he  had  participated  in  the  expectations  awakened  by 
 John  the  Baptist,  in  regard  to  the  approaching  reign  of 
 Messiah.  Recognizing  Chiist  as  a  prophet,  he  detei-mined  to 
 apply  to  liim  personally,  and  came  to  him  by  nigM,  to  avoid 
 strengthening  the  suspicions  of  his  colleagues  in  the  Sanlie- 
 drim,  probably  already  ai'oused  against  him. 
 
 We  may  presuppose  that  he  shared  in  the  ordinaiy  Je\\ash 
 conceptions  of  the  Messianic  kingdom,  and  expected  it  soon  to 
 be  founded  in  visible  and  earthly  glory ;  although  he  may 
 have  had,  at  the  same  time,  some  more  worthy  and  spiritual 
 ideas  in  I'egard  to  it.  He  considered  himself  siu-e,  as  a  rigidly 
 pious  Jew  and  Pharisee,  of  a  share  in  that  kingdom,  and  was 
 only  anxious  to  be  informed  as  to  the  approaching  manifesta- 
 tion of  Messiah. 
 
 Addressing  Christ  as  an  enlightened  teacher,  accredited 
 from  God  by  miracles,  he  expected  to  obtain  from  his  lips  a 
 further  account  of  his  calling  and  of  his  relation  to  the  JNIe.s- 
 sianic  kingdom.  But  instead  of  entenng  upon  this,  Cluist 
 purposely  gives  an  answer  especiallj'"  adaj)ted  to  the  moral  and 
 religious  wants  of  Nicodemus,  and  all  of  like  mind.>  The 
 ti'uth  which  he  uttered  was  not  only  new  and   strange  to 
 
 none  but  the  poor  and  illiterate  attaciied  themselves  to  Jesus."  Instead 
 of  being  a  "  reproacli,"  it  was  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  primitive  Church 
 that  the  new  creation  of  Christianity  l^egan  among  the  poor ;  that  the 
 wise  of  this  world  were  put  to  shame  by  the  ignorant.  Thei-e  wa.s  no 
 inducement,  then,  for  .such  inventions.  Moreover,  this  mode  of  thinking 
 pervades  the  whole  of  John's  Gospel ;  he  that  could  represent  Jesus  as 
 unfolding  his  highest  truths  to  a  poor  woman  could  not  have  lieen  tempted 
 to  inrtnt  a  conversation  l)etween  him  and  a  distinguished  scribe. 
 
 *  /5^'ai/«s  strains  hard  to  give  a  symbolical  and  mythical  meaning  to  this 
 common  Jewish  name  rnnp: .  There  is  no  trace  in  the  early  Christian 
 history  of  mythical  ))ersons  thus  originating  from  mere  fancy,  without  any 
 historical  point  of  departure.  Only  at  a  later  period  was  tiie  liistory  of 
 really  eminent  men  i',\ugj.cerate(l  by  (voluntary  or  involuutary)  invention 
 into  fables  ;  c.  g.  8i»nm  Miu/m  ■wa.s  thus  made  mjrthical. 
 
 '  An  answer,  too,  entirely  characteristic  of  Jeuus,  and  wliich  would  not 
 have  occurred  to  one  inventing  this  dialogue. 
 
NICODEMUS.  185 
 
 Nicodemus,  but  also  fundamentally  opposed  to  liis  whole  sys- 
 tem :  "  Except  a  man  he  born  again,^  he  cannot  see  the  Icingdom 
 o/Godr 
 
 (2.)  Tlie  New  Birth. 
 
 Uprooting  the  notion  that  any  pai*ticular  line  of  birth  or 
 descent  can  entitle  men  to  a  share  in  God's  kingdom,  Christ 
 points  out  an  inward  condition,  necessary  for  all  men  alike,  a 
 title  which  no  man  can  secure  by  his  OA\'n  power.  His  answer 
 to  Nicodenuis  presupposes  that  all  men  are  alike  destitute  of 
 the  DiAine  life.  It  was  du-ected  as  well  against  the  arrogant 
 self-righteousness  of  the  Pharisees  as  against  the  contracted 
 externalizhig  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  Jewish  particularism. 
 It  involves  also  (although  we  are  not  sure,  from  the  fonn  of 
 the  expression,  that  Christ  intended  precisely  tliis)  that  a 
 faith  like  that  of  Nicodemus  was  insufficient ;  springing,  as  it 
 did,  from  isolated  mii-acles,  and  not  from  inward  experience,  or 
 an  internal  awakening  of  the  Di-vdne  life.  Certaiidy  it  hit  the 
 only  point  from  which  Nicodemus  coidd  and  must  proceed  in 
 order  to  change  his  mode  of  conceiving  the  Messianic  king- 
 dom. Even  if  he  at  first  still  expected  it  to  appear  as  an 
 outward  one,  he  must  have  had  a  higher  and  nobler  moral 
 conception  of  it.  He  doubtless  took  Christ's  words  "  cannot 
 see  the  kingdom"  to  mean  "  cannot  share  in  the  visible  king- 
 dom ;"  while  Christ  meant  an  inward  spiritual  ^'■entering  into" 
 that  kingdom  which  was  first  to  be  founded,  as  a  spiritual  one, 
 in  the  hearts  of  men.^ 
 
 '  Or,  "from  above;"  but  I  cannot  prefer  this  reading,  even  after 
 Liicke's  arguments.  "  Born  again  "  corresponds  with  "  becoming  like 
 children"  (Matt,  xviii.  3)  ;  witli  7rrtXiyy£j'£(7((T  (Matt.  xix.  28)  ;  compared 
 with  the  \ovTp6v  TraXc/ytvtffiat;  of  Paul.  We  infer  that  this  mode  of 
 expre.ssion  belonged  to  the  peculiar  type  of  Christ's  teaching,  a.s  it  agrees, 
 also,  with  his  expressions  (recorded  in  the  first  three  Gospels)  in  regard  to 
 his  operations  upon  human  nature. 
 
 '  The  idea  of  a  "  new  birth  "  was  not  unkno\vn  to  the  Greek  and  Roman 
 mind,  although  its  true  import  is  only  revealed  in  the  light  which  Chris- 
 tianity lends  to  self-scrutiny.  Tlie  non  emendari,  scd  trawjigurari  of  Seneca 
 (Ep.  ad  Lucil.  vi.)  which  is  rather  a  rhetorical  expression  anyhow,  applies 
 to  a  gradual  amendment  of  character  by  lopping  off  separate  vices,  and 
 not  to  a  radical  change  of  nature.  As  the  Christian  new  birth  is  the 
 beginning  of  a  proces.s  in  human  nature,  which  is  to  go  on  until  the  con- 
 summation of  the  kingdom  of  Go<l,  the  new  birth  in  individuals  preparing 
 the  way  for  the  new  birth  of  a  glorified  world ;  so  the  SuAc  doctrine  speaks 
 of  a  TTtpio^iKj)  vaXiyytvta'ia  ribv  oXwr,  dva(fToi\iiMaiQ.  But  this  Ls  con- 
 nected with  the  pantheistic  conception  of  a  cycle  of  alternate  destructions 
 and  renewals  of  the  world,  utterly  opposed  to  the  teleological  point  of 
 •view  in  Christianity.      'O  TtuaafyaKoiTovrrjQ,  iav  vovv  bvocrovovv  txyj 
 
186  Christ's  first  stay  in  Jerusalem. 
 
 The  mere  figure  of  a  new  birth,  in  itself,  would  have  been 
 nothing  so  unusual  or  uniatelligible  to  Nicodemus ;  he  could 
 haA'e  understood  it  well  enough  if  applied,  for  instance,  to  the 
 case  of  a  heathen  submittiag  himself  to  circumcision  and  the 
 observance  of  other  Jewish  usages.''  But  what  startled  him 
 was  the  altogether  novel  application  which  Christ  made  of  the 
 figure  ;  not  to  a  change  of  external  relations,  as  in  the  case 
 above  supposed,  but  to  a  totally  diflferent  change,  of  which  the 
 learned  scribe  had  not  the  glimmering  of  an  idea.  He  knew 
 not  what  to  think  of  such  an  answer  to  his  question,  and  no 
 wonder ;  a  dead,  contracted,  arrogant  scribe-theology  is  always 
 amazed  at  the  mysteries  of  inward,  spiritual  experience.  This 
 fii'st  direct  impression,  perhaps,  did  not  allow  liim,  at  the 
 moment,  to  distinguish  between  the  figure  and  the  thing,  and 
 he  asked,  "  How  can  a  man  he  horn  lohen  he  is  old  V 
 
 (3.)  The  Birth  of  Water  and  of  the  Spirit. 
 
 But  Christ  confirms  what  he  had  said,  and  explains  it  further : 
 "Verily,  except  a  man  he  horn  of  water  and  oftJie  iSjnrit,  he  can- 
 not enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."'^  He  thus  describes  more 
 exactly  the  active  principle  (the  creative  agent)  of  the  new 
 birth,  the  Divine  Sjrint,  which  implants  a  new  Divine  life  in 
 those  who  give  themselves  up  to  it ;  producing  a  moral  change, 
 a  reversion  of  the  universal  tendency  of  man,  as  the  offspring 
 of  a  race  tainted  by  sin. 
 
 So  much  is  cleai-.     But  what  shall  we  say  of  the  "  water ?"^ 
 
 iravTa  to.  ytyovora  Kai  to.  itofitva  iwpoKe  Kara,  to  o^otiScQ. — {Anton. 
 Mcnol.  xi.  1.)  "He  who  lives  only  forty  years  and  observes  well,  has 
 experienced  everything  which  occurs  in  the  whole  eternity  of  this  ever- 
 renewed  process." 
 
 *"  Strauss  thinks  (p.  701 )  that  the  way  in  which  Paul  uses  the  expression 
 "a  new  creation"  (2  Cor.  v.  17;  Gal.  vi.  15),  without  explaining  it, 
 implies  that  it  was  in  common  use  in  Judaism.  We  do  not  agree  with 
 him,  but  rather  see  in  such  expressions  the  new  dialect  created  by  Chris- 
 tianity, which  Paul's  readers  might  be  supposed  to  understand.  If 
 Strams's  view  were  correct,  we  should  expect  such  antitheses  in  Paul  as 
 the  followng :  "Circumcision  cannot  develop  a  new  creation  in  the  heathen, 
 but  leaves  all  in  its  old  condition;  a  new  creation  can  only  grow  out  from 
 within,  through  faith." 
 
 '^  How  different  the  words  of  Christ,  in  their  original  simplicity,  were 
 from  the  later  dress  given  to  them,  may  be  seen  by  comparing  John  iii.  5, 
 with  the  Clementines,  Horn.  xi.  §  2G:  " idu  fii)  avayfvvtjOiirt  oSari 
 'i^Mvri  tig  6voi.t.i  narphq,  v'lov,  ayiov  Trvevfiaroc,"  &c.  It  is  imm.iterial 
 whether  this  passage  was  borrowed  from  John's  Gospel  immediately,  or 
 from  some  tradition. 
 
 •■  It  is  said,  by  some,  that  the  hand  of  a  later  writer  is  to  be  ttaced  here, 
 who  planned  this  conversation,  half  fiction,  half  truth,  upon  the  basis, 
 
NICODEMUS.  187 
 
 We  infer  from  the  fact  that  Christ  says  natliing  more  of 
 "  -water,"  but  proceeds  to  explain  the  operations  of  the  "  Spirit," 
 that  the  former  was  only  a  point  of  departui-e  to  lead  to  the 
 latter.  It  was  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit,  the  "  birth  of  the 
 Spirit "  into  a  new  Divine  life,  that  was  unknown  to  Nico- 
 demus  ;  whereas  John's  baptism  might  have  already  made  him 
 acquainted  with  water  as  a  symbol  of  inward  puiification, 
 pointing  to  a  higher  purification  of  soul,  to  be  wrought  by  the 
 Messiah,  and  aiding  in  its  comprehension. 
 
 After  this  preparation,  Christ  sets  forth  the  general  principle 
 on  which  his  previous  declarations  to  Kicodemus  were  founded, 
 viz.,  the  total  opposition  between  the  natural  life — the  life  of 
 aU  those  who  continue  to  live  according  to  nature  sunply — and 
 the  new  life  which  God  imparts  ["  TJmt  which  is  horn  of  tlie 
 flesh  is  flesh,  and  tliat  tohich  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  Spirit"]. 
 But  as  this  "  birth  of  the  Spirit "  was  still  strange  to  Kico- 
 demus,  Clirist  made  use  of  a  sensible  image  to  bring  it  more 
 vividly  before  him.  "  As  none  can  set  bounds  or  limits  to  the 
 wind,  as  one  hears  and  feels  its  blast,  but  cannot  track  it  to  its 
 source  or  to  its  aim  ;  so  it  is  with  the  breath  of  God's  Spirit  in 
 those  who  have  experienced  the  new  birth.  There  is  something 
 in  the  interior  life  not  to  be  explained  or  comprehended,  wliich 
 reveals  itself  only  in  its  operations,  and  can  be  known  only  by 
 experience  ;  it  is  a  life  which  no  one  can  trace  backward  to  its 
 origin,  or  fom^ai-d  to  its  end." 
 
 The  light  begins  to  dawn  upon  Nicodemus.  But  to  his  mind, 
 yet  in  bondage  to  a  legal  Judaism,  prone  to  conceive  all  Divine 
 things  in  an  outward  sense  and  to  keep  God  and  man  too  far 
 apart,  the  fact  asserted  by  Christ  seems  marvellous ;  and  he 
 exclaims  in  amazement,  "  IIow  can  this  be  ?  "    Jesus  seizes  upon 
 
 perhaps,  of  an  earlier  narrative,  and  added  "birth  bywater"  to  "birth  by 
 spirit,"  in  order  to  give  additional  authority  to  baptism  in  the  Church. 
 But  this  theory  is  contradicted  by  the  fact  that  baptism  is  only  incidentally 
 mentioned  by  John ;  that  he  nowhere  expressly  ascribes  its  institution  to 
 Christ,  and  nowhere  says  anything  of  the  baptism  of  the  Apostles.  A 
 writer  influenced  by  an  ecclesiastical  intent,  and  permitting  himself  to 
 remodel  the  history  of  Christ  from  such  a  motive,  would  not  have  made 
 these  omissions.  It  might  even  be  said,  \vith  more  plausibility,  that  John 
 had  been  led  to  connect  baptism  and  regeneration  together,  and  had  attri- 
 buted this  combination  to  Christ.  We  have  no  right,  because  of  a  mere 
 difficulty,  to  charge  such  a  thing,  even  though  involuntar}',  upon  the 
 faithful  disciple.  The  whole  turn  of  John's  feelings,  the  mystic  element 
 (in  its  good  sense)  that  predominated  in  his  mind,  would  alone  have  pre- 
 vented him  from  making  any  ouUcard  thing  prominent  that  was  not  made 
 so  in  the  original  words  of  Christ. 
 
188  Christ's  fikst  stay  ix  jeiiusalem. 
 
 this  exclamation  to  liuinble  the  pride  of  the  learned  theologian, 
 to  con-sdnce  him  of  his  want  of  insight  into  Divine  tilings,  and 
 to  make  him  feel  the  need  of  foi-ther  illumination.  "  You,  a 
 teacher  of  Israel,  and  this,  -ndthout  which  all  religion  is  a  dead 
 thing,  not  kno-vvn  to  you  !  And  if  you  beheve  me  not  when  I 
 speak  of  a  mere  matter  of  fact,  which  every  man  upon  earth 
 may  test  by  his  own  experience,^  how  will  you  believ^e  when  I 
 jjroclaim  truths  beyond  the  cu*cle  of  man's  experience  and 
 transcending  the  limits  of  his  reason ;  when  I  tell  you  the 
 hidden  and  unfathomable  counsels  of  God  for  human  sal- 
 vation !" 
 
 (4.)  Jesus  intimates  his  own  Sufferings. 
 
 Tliis  introduction  prepares  us  to  expect  something  totally^ 
 opposed  to  the  ordinaiy  conceptions  of  the  Jewish  scribes.  It 
 would  have  been  quite  inappropriate  if  Christ  had  merely 
 been  about  to  speak  of  the  exaltation  of  Messiah,  for  that  idea 
 was  familiar  enough  ;  or  even  if  he  had  been  about  to  apply 
 that  exaltation  personally  to  himself  as  Messiah  ;  for  this  claim 
 could  not  appear  very  marvellous  to  Nicodemus,  who  was 
 already  inclined  to  recognize  him  as  a  prophet.  But  nothing 
 could  have  been  more  startling  to  Je^vish  modes  of  thought,  or 
 even  to  the  mind  of  Nicodemus,  who  was  still  in  bondage  to 
 the  outward  letter,  than  an  intimation  that  Messiah  was  not  to 
 appear  in  earthly  splendour,  but  was  to  found  the  salvation  of 
 mankind  upon  the  basis  of  his  onm  syfferingsS  This  was, 
 indeed,  and  ever,  the  stumbling-block  of  the  Jews. 
 
 But  Christ  did  not  amiounce  tlus  truth,  so  strange  to  Nico- 
 demus, plainly  and  in  full  breadth.  Emplojdng  a  well-known 
 figm'e  fi-om  the  Old  Testament,  he  compared  the  lifting  up  of 
 the  Son  of  Man  with  the  serpent  that  was  raised  in  the  wdlder- 
 nesss  before  the  eyes  of  all  the  people  :  and,  having  thus  inti- 
 mated the  truth  to  the  scribe  by  a  simile  drawn  from  his  own 
 familiar  studies,  he  left  it  to  be  further  developed  by  his  own 
 thoughts.  The  brazen  serpent  may  have  appeai-ed  to  the 
 fathers  a  paradoxical  cure  for  the  serpent's  bite ;  and  such  a 
 paradox  is  the  salvation  of  the  world  through  a  suffming 
 Messiah.  The  very  strangeness  of  the  comparison  must  ha^•e 
 stimulated  the  mind  of  Nicodemus.'' 
 
 *  A  Jewish  believer  could  understand  tliis,  from  its  analogy  to  separate 
 impulses  of  the  Divine  life  experienced  under  Judaism. 
 
 f  See  p.  85,  86. 
 
 K  Conf.  the  explanation  of  Jacohi.     (Stud.  n.  Krit.  1825,  pt.  i.) 
 
 ''  The  words  of  Christ  end  with  ver.  15,  we  think.  Nicodemus  had  the 
 goad  in  his  mind,  enough  to  wake  him  out  of  his  spiritual  slumber,  and 
 
JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  189 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 JESUS  AT  -ENON,  NEAR  SALIM, 
 
 "We  cannot  fix  with  certainty  the  length  of  Christ's  first  stay- 
 in  Jerusalem  after  the  beginning  of  his  public  ministry.  But 
 it  is  certain  that  he  went  directly  thence  to  yEnon,^  near  SaHm 
 (Salumias),  a  part  of  the  coimtiy  which  was,  at  that  time,  the 
 theatre  of  John  the  Baptist's  labours.  Here  he  probably  spent 
 most  of  the  time  from  the  Passover  to  the  late  hai-vest.  He 
 may  have  had  two  objects  in  this,  viz.,  to  continue  the  training 
 of  his  disciples  more  iminterruptedly,  and  also  to  make  use  of 
 the  connecting  link  which  the  ministry  of  John  the  Baptist 
 afforded.  The  reason  for  the  continuance  of  the  latter's  separate 
 labours  has  already  been  mentioned.J 
 
 §  120. — Jealousy  of  John's  Disciples. — Final  Testimony  of  flie  Baptist. — 
 His  Imprisonment. 
 
 The  rapid  growth  of  Chnst's  sphere  of  labour  excited  the 
 jealousy  of  many  of  John's  discijoles,  who  would  hear  of  no 
 other  master  but  their  own,  and  who  had  not  imbibed  enough 
 of  his  spiiit  to  know  that  /i£  was  to  give  way  before  the  higher 
 
 urge  him  to  deeper  thought  upon  the  truth,  partly  clear  and  partly  obscure, 
 to  which  he  had  listened.  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  therefore,  Jesus 
 would  not  be  likely  to  add  anything  further.  The  verses,  16—21,  have 
 altogether  the  air  of  a  commentary  added  by  the  Evangelist,  from  the 
 fulness  of  his  heart  and  experience.  He  has  seen  the  working  of  the 
 Gospel,  and  the  judgments,  too,  which  attend  its  preaching,  and  he  records 
 them.  John's  Gospel  is  a  sdectioyi  from  the  history  of  the  Gospel,  made 
 with  a  definite  purpose ;  he  begins  it  with  a  reflection,  and  he  frequently 
 interrupts  the  narrative  with  a  course  of  reflection,  as  appears  to  us  to  be 
 the  case  in  the  passage  under  consideration.  Verse  16  takes  up  and 
 repeats  Christ's  closing  words  in  verse  15,  and  explains  them,  as  the  yap 
 obviously  shows.  The  marks  of  a  change  in  the  speaker  seem  to  me  very 
 evident.  It  appears  to  be  characteristic  of  John  not  to  mark  such 
 transitions  very  distinctly  ;  although,  of  course,  he  could  never  intend  to 
 intermix  his  o\\ti  words  with  those  of  the  Saviour. 
 
 '  Ijir,  a  name  derived  from  "T?  ("ajtlace  abounding  in  water"),  Johniii. 
 23.  Eusebius  (Onomastikon)  says  that  such  a  place  was  still  pointed  out, 
 eight  Roman  miles  south  of  Scythopolis,  near  Salim  and  the  Jordan. 
 (Hieron.  0pp.  ed.  Vallars,  iii.  163  ;  MoscnmiiUer,  Handb.  d.  Biblisch. 
 Alterth.  ii.  2,  133  ;  Hohinson's  Palestine,  iii.  322.)  This  suits  the  place 
 described  in  John,  as  Christ  goes  thence  to  Samaria.  If  it  appear  strange 
 that  the  Baptist  should  go  to  Samaria,  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  the  place 
 belonged,  as  a  border  town,  to  Judea  ;  and  the  Baptist  may  have  found 
 it  necessary,  in  order  to  avoid  persecution,  to  betake  himself  to  this  out- 
 of-the-way  comer.  Perhaps,  also,  with  his  more  liberal  tendency  of  mind, 
 he  had  no  scruples  about  abiding  on  the  borders  of  Samaria. 
 
 J  Page  59. 
 
190  CHRIST  AT  MSOyi. 
 
 one.  They  had  seen  that  Christ  obtained  his  first  disciples  by 
 John's  testimony  in  his  favour.  Having  no  desire  themselves 
 to  go  beyond  John's  teaching,  they  did  not  strive  to  understand 
 that  testimony  fully,  and  deemed  it  unreasonable  that  Chiist, 
 who  owed  his  first  followers  to  the  recommendation  of  their 
 own  mastei",  should  exalt  himself  above  the  latter.  But  when 
 they  mentioned  their  surprise  to  John,  he  answered  them, 
 "  Do  not  wonder  at  this ;  it  had  to  be  so.  No  man  can  usiu'p 
 what  Heaven  has  not  granted  him.  (No  man's  laboui-s  can 
 transcend  the  hmit  appointed  by  God.  Chidst's  influence 
 proclaims  the  Di^dnity  of  his  calling.  Men  would  not  join 
 him,  if  God  did  not  give  them,  in  him,  what  I  could  never 
 bestow.)"  He  then  calls  them  to  witness  that  he  had  never 
 announced  himself  to  them  as  INIessiah,  but  always,  and  only,  as 
 the  Forei-unner  :  "  /  said  I  am  owt  t/ie  Christ,  but  that  I  am  sent 
 before  him" 
 
 It  is  to  be  observed  (and  it  confii'ms  what  we  have  said  of 
 the  historical  position  of  the  Baptist)  that  he  does  not  here 
 appeal  to  his  piivate  declarations  as  to  Christ's  ]\Iessiahship, 
 made  to  individual  suscejjtiblc  disciples,  but  only  to  his  conti- 
 nuous public  testimony.  The  jealous  spirits,  therefore,  may 
 never  have  had,  from  the  Hps  of  theii*  mastei",  any  such  special 
 direction  to  Christ. 
 
 But  he  added,  "  My  goal  is  reached  ;  my  joy  is  fulfilled.  I 
 have  led  the  Bride  (the  Theocratic  congregation)  to  the  Bride- 
 gi-oom  (the  Messiah),  to  whom  she  belongs,  who  alone  can  fulfil 
 her  hopes.     He  must  increase,  but  I  must  deci-ease."^ 
 
 In  uttering  these  words,  the  Baptist  probably  had  a  presenti- 
 ment that  the  end  of  his  career  was  at  hand.  When  he 
 returned  to  the  other  side  of  the  river,  Herod  Antipas,  who 
 ruled  in  Peraea,  succeeded  in  laying  hold  of  him.     The  rigid 
 
 ''  John  iii.  30.  Tims  far  the  words  bear  the  stamp  of  the  Baptist,  their 
 meaning  being  figuratively  intimated  rather  than  expressed.  But  those 
 which  follow  (31 — 36)  are  totally  different.  The  EvangeUst,  having  in  his 
 owii  Christian  experience  so  rich  a  commentary  upon  the  words  of  his 
 former  Master,  feels  bound  to  apply  it  in  explaining  them.  The  relation 
 of  the  Baptist  to  Christ  sets  aside  all  tliat  has  been  said,  in  later  times, 
 about  some  imaginary  persons  having  invented  this  scene  and  tacke<l  it  on 
 to  .John's  Gospel.  Had  such  a  one,  as  Sirauss  thinks,  made  the  fiction  in 
 order  to  oppose  the  disciples  of  the  Baptist  (who  kept  aloof  from  Chris- 
 tianity) by  the  authority  of  their  own  master,  he  would  have  gone  much 
 further;  it  would  have  been  just  as  easy,  aud  far  more  effectix-e,  to  invent 
 a  dialogue  between  Christ  and  the  Baptist  himself.  Tlie  apocrj-phal 
 writings  of  that  period,  manufactured  to  favour  certain  religious  ideas, 
 were  not  wont  to  confine  their  inventions  within  such  narrow  limits. 
 
CHRIST  RETURNS  TO  GALILEE.  191 
 
 censor  of  morals,  who  had  no  respect  for  persons  where  the  holy 
 law  of  God  was  concerned,  had  offended  the  tetrarch  ;^  and,  by 
 order  of  the  latter,  he  was  conveyed  as  a  prisoner  to  the  border 
 fortress  of  MachseiiLs.'" 
 
 CHAPTER  VI. 
 
 JESUS  RETURNS  THROUGH  SAMARIA  TO  GALILEE. — THE  SAMARITAN 
 WOMAN.       (JOHN  IV.) 
 
 The  Pharisaic  party  became  more  suspicious  of  Jesus  than 
 they  had  been  of  the  rigid  preacher  of  repentance,  when  it  was 
 found  that  his  ministry  was  beginning  to  attract  still  greater 
 attention  than  Jolm's  had  done.  He  determined,  therefore,  to 
 leave  that  part  of  the  countiy."  Galilee  offered  a  safe  abode  ; 
 and,  besides,  a  good  spmtual  soil  for  liis  instructions  woultl 
 probably  be  found  there,  as  deep  impressions  had  been  made 
 upon  the  minds  of  many  Galileans  attending  the  Passover,  by 
 his  public  labours  at  Jeinisalem.     He  took  the  shortest  road — 
 
 '  Josephus  tliffers  fi-om  the  Gospels  (Matt.  xiv.  3-5;  Mark  vi.  17-20; 
 Luke  iii.  19-20)  as  to  Herod's  reasons  for  this  act ;  according  to  the  latter, 
 it  was  done  because  John  had  reproved  him  for  carrying  off  and  marrying 
 his  brother  Philip's  wife ;  according  to  the  former,  the  tetrarch  was 
 induced  by  fear  of  political  disturbances.  "Afitraf  rb  iiri  roffuvct  iridavov 
 avTov  toIq  dv9pt!jwoic  l-ii)  tTfi  airoirrami  rii'i  (pipoi'  TcavTa  yap  tijiKinav 
 <jvfi€ov\y  ry  iKtivov  Trpa^ovreg,  ttoXv  Kpiirrov  yytiTai,  irpii'  ti  vtoirtpov 
 I?  ai'Tov  yiv'icdai,  TrpoXaSw*'  avaiptiv  j)  /ifrafe'o\»/c  yivoiikvijQ  tig  rd 
 irpdyfiara  ifiTziaiov  fitTavotif." — (Archaeol.  xviii.  v.  §  2.)  Now  the 
 character  of  the  Evangelists,  as  historians,  would  not  be  affected,  if  we 
 admit  that  they  followed  the  popular  report,  even  though  incorrect,  as 
 the  matter  had  no  connexion  with  their  immediate  object.  But  the  cUflS- 
 culty  is  cleared  up,  and  a  better  insight  into  the  nature  of  the  case  obtained, 
 by  the  supposition  that  Josephus  gave  the  ostciisible,  and  the  Evangelists 
 the  real  and  secret  reason  that  impelled  Herod.  As  the  Baptist  did  not 
 claim  to  be  Messiah,  and  exhorted  the  peojJe  to  fidelity  in  the  several 
 relations  of  life,  Herod  could  have  had  no  pohtical  fears  except  such, 
 indeed,  as  might  arise  from  John's  honest  boldness  in  reproving  his  sins. 
 It  is  a  further  proof  of  his  personal  hatred  to  John,  that  he  not  only 
 imprisoned,  but  killed  him.  History  affords  many  instances  in  which 
 faithful  ■witnesses  to  the  truth  have  fallen  ^^ctims  to  the  craft  of  priests  or 
 women,  and  often  of  the  two  combined. 
 
 ™  Supposing  that  John  appeared  in  public  about  six  months  before 
 Christ,  and  that  he  was  imprisoned  about  the  same  length  of  time  after 
 Clirist's  first  Passover,  his  whole  public  ministry  lasted  for  about  a  year. 
 
 "  Here  is  the  occasion  of  Matthew's  statement.  Matt.  iv.  12.  But  as 
 the  first  three  Gospels  only  speak  expressly  of  Christ's  last  journey  (see 
 p.  163),  no  distinction  is  made  between  his  stay  in  Galilee  before  and  after 
 his  first  journey.  Hence  arose  the  mistake  as  to  the  time  of  John's 
 imprisonment;  to  correct  which  error  in  the  tradition  probably  John  iii.  24, 
 was  intended. 
 
192  CHRIST  AXD  THE  SAMARITAN  WOMAN. 
 
 three  days'  journey — to  Galilee,  through  Samaria ;  and  made 
 use  of  the  opportunity  to  scatter  seeds  for  the  future  among 
 the  people  of  that  country,  who  Avere  then  longing  for  new 
 revelations,  and  among  whom  no  political  perversions  of  the 
 Messianic  idea  were  to  be  found,  as  among  the  Jews. 
 
 §  121. — Impressions  made  npon  the  Samaritan  Woman. 
 
 In  the  mean  time  the  summer  months,  and  j>ai't  of  autumn, 
 had  passed  away.  It  was  in  seed-time,  which  lasted  from  the 
 middle  of  October  to  the  middle  of  December,  that  Jesus 
 anived  in  the  feilile  plain  of  Sicliem.  Fatigued  -with,  tra- 
 velling, he  stopped  to  refresh  himself  about  mid-day  °  at  the  well 
 of  Jacob.  He  was  alone,  for  he  had  sent  his  disciples  into  the 
 city  to  buy  provisions  ;  not  without  the  intention,  probably,  to 
 elevate  them  above  the  Jewish  prejudice  which  regarded  the 
 Samaritans  as  unclean.  While  he  sits  by  the  well-side,  a  poor 
 woman  from  the  neighbouring  city  comesP  to  di^aw  ft-esh  water. 
 He  asked  her  for  w^ater  to  quench  his  thirst,  and  embraced  the 
 occasion  (as  he  always  embraced  every  moment  and  opportunity 
 to  ftilxil  liis  Divine  calling)  to  plant  in  her  soul  the  seeds  of 
 Div^'ne  truth.i  Adapting  his  mode  of  teaching  to  her  con- 
 dition and  cxilture,  he  made  use  of  a  natm-al  figiu-e,  offered  by 
 the  occasion  ["  If  thou  kiiewest  the  gift  of  God,  aiul  who  it  is  tJuit 
 saith  unto  thee,  '  Give  me  to  driiik,'  thou  tvouldst  have  (uskcd  of 
 Jiim,  and  he  woidd  have  given  tJiee  Hiding  wcUer"^. 
 
 The  figure  was  admirably  adajjted  to  awaken  in  her  as  yet 
 unspiritual  mind  a  longing  for  the  precious  i)Ossession  thus 
 intimated,  before  she  could  apprehend  the  natiu-e  of  the  pos- 
 session itself  ["  Wliosoever  drlnketh  of  (lie  wat^r  tJuit  I  shall  give 
 him,  shall  never  thirst :  it  shall  be  in  him  a  well  oficuter  spring- 
 ing up  into  everlasting  life  "].  How  joyfully  mu.st  she  have 
 heard  of  water,  ever  fresh  and  flowing,  wliich  one  could  always 
 carry  with  him,  and  never  need  thirst  or  be  weary  with  con- 
 
 °  That  travelling  could  be  continued  until  twelve  o'clock  shows  that  it 
 must  have  been  late  in  autumn. 
 
 P  Tliis,  too,  could  not  have  l)een  done  at  that  hour  in  Bummer. 
 
 1  Here  is  another  refutation  of  the  theory  that  assigned  an  Alexandrian 
 origin  to  this  Gospel.  A  man  trained  in  that  school  would  liave  been  as 
 little  disposed  as  a  Jewish  theologian  of  Palestine  to  represent  Jesus  as 
 conversing  with  a  poor  woman  and  displaying  to  her  the  prospect  of  a  new 
 future  of  religious,  development !  But  it  was  })erfectly  in  keeping  with 
 the  character  of  Him  who  thanked  God  that  "  what  had  l)een  hidden  from 
 the  wise  had  been  revealed  unto  babes,"  and  who  had  come  to  break  down 
 all  barriers  that  separated  men,  and  to  glorify  human  nature  even  in  the 
 form  of  woman. 
 
THE  WATER  OF  LIFE.  193 
 
 stant  travelling  the  dusty  I'oad  to  draw  !  And  so,  under  this 
 figure,  Christ  pictured  forth  for  her  the  Divine  life  which  he 
 had  come  to  impart,  wliich  alone  can  quench  the  thirst  of  the 
 soul,  and  is,  for  all  who  receive  it,  an  endless  stream  of  hfe 
 flowing  onward  into  eternity  ! 
 
 After  thus  exciting  in  her  mind  a  desire  for  the  miraculous 
 water,  of  which  she  could  as  yet  form  no  just  conception,  he 
 breaks  off  without  giving  her  further  explanations  of  what,  at 
 that  time,  she  could  not  be  made  to  understand.  He  turns 
 the  conversation,  tirst,  to  make  her  look  icithin,  as  self-know- 
 ledge alone  can  prepare  us  rightly  to  apprehend  Divine  things; 
 and,  secondly,  to  satisfy  her  that  he  was  a  prophet,  by  showing 
 an  acquaintance  ^vith  parts  of  her  private  history  of  which,  as 
 a  stranger,  lie  could  have  known  nothing.'' 
 
 §  1"2'2. — Christ's  Decision  letwcen  the  Worship  of  the  Jacs  and  that 
 of  the  Samai-ltans. 
 
 Struck  with  his  insight  of  her  secret  histoiy,  the  woman 
 recoguLzed  liim  as  a  prophet.  She  must,  in  consequence,  have 
 supposed  that  a  higher  sense  lay  hid  in  what  he  had  uttei'ed, 
 enigmatical  as  it  yet  appeared  to  her,  and  she  laid  it  up  in 
 her  mind.  It  was  natural,  also,  for  her  to  question  him 
 further,  as  a  prophet,  on  religious  subjects,  and  thus  elicit 
 from  liini  new  instiniction.  And  what  question  so  likely  to 
 occur,  or  fraught  ynih  deeper  interest  to  her,  than  that  which 
 formed  the  bone  of  contention  between  the  Jews  and  Sama- 
 ritans, and  which  was  suggested  to  her  by  the  very  s})ot  on 
 which  they  stood.  Mount  Gerizini  itself  toweling  iip  just  at 
 hand  ["  Our  fathers  worshipped  in  this  mountain,  and  ye  sai/ 
 that  in  Jerusalem  is  (lie ijlace  wlvere  me,nov.(jht  to  worshqi^^^. 
 
 The  answer  of  Christ  has  a  two-fold  reference  :  one  to  the 
 existing  stage  of  the  Theocracy,  thus  answering  the  .spiidt  of 
 the  woman's  question  ;  the  other  alluding  to  the  higher  stage 
 
 ■■  It  has  been  made  a  question  whether  Christ,  at  tlie  moment  when  lie 
 requested  the  woman  to  call  "  laer  husband"  (John  iv.  16),  had  the  full  and 
 supernatural  knowledge  of  her  real  circumstances,  and  only  spoke  thus  to 
 her  in  order  to  test  her  disposition,  and  induce  her  to  speak  of  her  course 
 of  life  with  candour  ;  or  whether  he  had  not  that  knowledge  at  the  moment, 
 and  really  wished  her  husband  to  come,  in  order  to  open  a  communication 
 with  the  Samaritans;  so  that  the  final  turn  of  the  conversation  was  diffe- 
 rent from  what  he  had  expected.  We  are  not  acquainted  with  the  laws 
 nnder  which  the  beams  of  supernatural  knowledge  broke  forth  fi-om  the 
 soul  of  Christ,  nor  with  the  relation  between  external  occasions  and  the 
 internal  development  of  his  higher  knowledge.  And  therefore  we  cannot 
 say  whether  the  woman's  explanation,  that  "she  had  no  husband,"  excited 
 tlie  streaming  forth  of  the  Di\'ine  light  within  him  or  not. 
 
 0 
 
194  CHRIST  AND  THE  SAMARITAN  WOMAN. 
 
 of  the  Theocratic  development  which  he  himself  was  about  to 
 introduce. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  first,  he  decides  (v.  22)  in  favour  of  the 
 Jews.  "  The  Samaritans  are  ignorant  of  the  true  worship  of 
 God,  because  they  reject  the  prophets,  the  several  stages  of 
 revelation  that  have  prepared  the  way  for  that  wliich  is  the 
 aim  of  all,  the  manifestation  of  the  Redeemer ;  the  Jews,  on 
 the  other  hand,  do  worship  God  intelligently,*  since  they  have 
 recognized  his  successive  revelations,  and  are  thiis  fitted  to  be 
 the  medium  through  which  salvation  may  come  forth  for  men  ; 
 to  lead  to  which  salvation  is  the  end  and  aim  of  all  GtOd's 
 revelations.  Jerusalem,  meanwhUe,  had  to  be  the  seat  of 
 worship,  because  from  Jerusalem  the  Redemption,  which  was 
 to  raise  worship  to  a  higher  sphere,  was  to  spiing  up." 
 §  123. — Ulc  Worship  of  God  in  Spirit  and  in  Truth. 
 
 Christ  thus  showed  that  the  worslup  at  Jerusalem  was  only 
 prefeiTed  in  view  of  the  salvation  that  was  to  come  forth  there, 
 and  that  the  superiority  would  cease  at  the  time  of  its  coming 
 forth.  He  had,  then,  to  describe  that  higher  era  before  which 
 the  question  in  dispute  between  Jews  and  Samaritans  would 
 wholly  cease  :  "  The  Jwur  cometh,  and  now  is,  when  tlie  true 
 worshippers  shall  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  tnith,  for 
 the  Father  seeketh  such  to  worship  him :  God  is  Spirit,  aiul  they 
 who  worship  him  mtcst  worship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth."  To 
 the  worship  of  God  as  previously  conceived — the  sensuous, 
 external  worsliip,  confined  to  special  times  and  a  fixed  place 
 — Christ  opposes  a  worship  limited  by  neither,  but  proceeding 
 from  the  Spirit,  and  embracing  the  whole  being.  The  true 
 wor-ship  of  God,  as  Spiiit,  can  only  spring  from  Divine  affinities 
 in  the  Spirit. 
 
 And  such  worship  can  only  be  "  Worship  in  the  Truth  ;" 
 the  two  are  inseparable  ;  the  Truth  must  be  taken  up  into  the 
 life  of  the  Spirit  bt^fore  it  can  utter  spiritual  woi-ship — Truth, 
 the  Divine  element  of  life,  the  link  that  binds  the  Avorld  of 
 spirits  to  God,  their  original.  As  worship  in  spirit  is  opposed 
 to  that  which  is  confined  wholly,  or  chiefly,  to  isolated  outward 
 acts,  so  worship  in  the  Truth  is  opposed  to  that  which  adheres 
 to  sensuous  types  and  images  that  only  veil  the  truth.  And 
 this  true  sjiiritual  worship  can  only  flow  fi'om  those  who  are  in 
 communion  of  life  vnth  God,  as  Father. 
 
 '  This,  of  course,  is  only  said  objectivclt/,  with  reference  to  the  stand- 
 point of  the  Jewisli  nation ;  suhjectively,  applied  to  individual.-^,  it  would 
 only  be  true  of  those  who  correspond  int^pirit  to  the  definition  that  follows. 
 
THE  WORSHIP  IN  SPIRIT.  195 
 
 Christ  used  the  words,  "  the  time  cometh,  and  is  nov^" 
 because  the  ti'ue,  spu-itual  worship  was  realized,  in  its  perfec- 
 tion, in  himself ;  and  because  he  had  planted  seeds  in  the 
 hearts  of  his  disciples,  fi'om  which  it  was  to  develop  itself  in 
 them,  and  through  them  in  all  mankind. 
 
 §  124. — The  Spiritual  Worship. — Its  Bearing  upon  Practical  Life. 
 
 Cluist  uttered  here  no  merely  theoretical  truth,  bearing 
 only  upon  knowledge,  but  one  eimnenily practical,  and  including 
 in  itself  the  whole  woi"k  which  he  was  to  accompUsh  in  hu- 
 manity. The  sages  of  both  the  East  and  the  West  had  long 
 known  that  all  time  worship  must  be  spiritual ;  but  they 
 beUeved  it  impossible  to  extend  such  worship  beyond  the 
 narrow  circle  of  thoughtful  and  spiritually  contemplative 
 minds  ;  nor  did  they  even  know  rightly  how  to  realize  it 
 for  themselves.  They  sought  in  Knowledge  what  could  only 
 spring  from  Life,  and  was  in  this  way  to  become,  not  the 
 pri-\Tlege  of  a  favoured  few,  but  the  common  good  of  all  men. 
 
 On  the  other  hand,  Christ  not  only  gave  the  true  Idea,  but 
 realized  it.  As  Redeemer  of  men,  he  placed  them  in  a  relatior 
 to  God,  throvigh  which  the  tendency  to  true  and  spiritual  wor- 
 ship is  imparted  to  their  whole  life.  He  made  the  Truth  wliich 
 he  revealed  the  source  of  life  for  men  ;  and  by  its  means,  as 
 spirits  alUed  to  God,  they  worship  him  in  Truth.  Only  in 
 proportion  as  men  partake  of  the  Divine  life,  by  ap})ropriating 
 Christ's  revealed  tnith,  can  they  succeed  in  worsldpping  Goi; 
 in  spirit  and  in  truth. 
 
 The  knowledge  of  God  as  Spirit  was  by  no  means  commu- 
 nicated to  men  ready  made  and  complete.  It  was  to  develop 
 itself  in  the  reflective  consciousness  only  from  true  worship  of 
 God,  rooted  in  the  life  ;  here,  and  here  only,  were  men  to 
 learn*  the  full  import  of  the  words,  '"  God  is  Spiiit."" 
 
 How  has  the  lofty  truth,  the  world-historical  imj)ort,  of  this 
 saying  of  Christ  been  lost  sight  of  by  those  who  have  taken  it 
 as  an  isolated  expression,  apart  from  its  connexion  with  Cliris- 
 tian  Theism  and  with  the  whole  Divine  process  for  the  deve- 
 
 '  Tlie  history  of  relij^ious  opinions  in  the  first  three  centuries  affords 
 most  vivad  proof  of  this.  E.  17.  "  ttciv  ■jn'iv/.ia,  il  aTrXovarepov  iKXap,- 
 Cdi/o/KEi',  awfia  Tvyxavov."     (Orig.  in  Joann.  t.  xiii.  §  2'2.) 
 
 "  This  great  truth,  rightly  understood,  was  closely  connected  with  the- 
 moral  and  religious  wants  of  the  Samaritans,  as  represented  by  the  woman. 
 The  natural  order  of  this  conversation,  the  simplicity  and  depth  of  Christ's 
 words — so  free  from  the  diffuseness  characteristic  of  intentional  imitation 
 — is  a  strong  proof  of  its  originality. 
 
 o2 
 
196  CHRIST  AXD  THE  SAMARITAN  WOM.Of. 
 
 lopment  of  Christian  life,  by  those  abstract,  naked,  one-sidedly 
 intellectual  Deists  and  Pantheists  who  have  dreamed  that  tliey 
 could  incorporate  them  into  their  discordant  systems  by  their 
 spiritual  Fetichism,  Avhich  substitutes  the  deification  of  an 
 Idea  for  the  spiritual,  truthfid  adoration  of  God  as  Spirit ! 
 The  aristocracy  of  education,  the  one-sided  hiteUectualum  of 
 the  ancient  world,  was  uprooted  by  Christ  when  he  uttered 
 this  grand  truth  to  an  uneducated  woman,  who  belonged  to 
 an  ignorant  and  uncultivated  people  ;  For  all  men  alike,  the 
 Higliest  must  spriwj  from  life  [and  not  from  culture]. 
 
 §  125. — Christ's  Glances  at  the  future  Progress  of  his  Kingdom,  aiid  at 
 his  own  Death. 
 
 After  Christ  had  made  himself  known  as  Messiah  to  the 
 Samaritan  woman,  she  hastened  joyfully  to  the  city  to  tell  the 
 strange  things  that  had  happened  to  her.  Her  countrymen 
 came  out  in  tlu-ongs  at  her  call.  In  the  mean  time,  however, 
 the  disciples  had  returned,  and  found  their  !Master  just  closing 
 his  conversation  with  the  woman ;  and,  although  both  surprised 
 and  curious,  they  asked  no  questions  about  the  occasion  or  sub- 
 ject of  the  conversation. 
 
 But  they  wondered  that  he  did  not  touch  the  provisions 
 they  had  brought.  His  corporeal  wants  are  forgotten  in  the 
 higher  thoughts  that  occupy  him  :  the  work  of  hxA  life  is 
 before  him,  the  planting  of  the  seeds  of  Di\ine  truth  in  a 
 himian  soul,  and  through  it  in  many  others,  even  beyond  the 
 limits  of  the  Jewish  people.  The  Samaiitan  womiin  is  an 
 exponent  of  this  new  progress  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  Her 
 countrymen  are  approaching  ;  the  seed  is  already  germinating. 
 He  re]jlies,  therefore,  to  his  ilisciples,  "  /  have  meat  to  cat  which 
 ye  hwio  not  of  (The  nourishment  of  the  boily  is  forgotten  in 
 tliat  of  the  Spirit.)  My  meat  is  to  do  t/ie  will  of  him  tliat  sent 
 me,  and  to  finish  his  loork  (to  sow  the  seed  for  the  general 
 diffusion  of  the  kingdom  of  God  among  men)." 
 
 He  then  illusti-ates  the  work  of  God,  which  he  had  just 
 begim  among  the  Samaritans,  by  a  similitude^  from  the  face 
 of  Nature  before  them.  Glancing,  on  the  one  side,  at  the 
 peasants  sc<xttercd  over  the  fertile  \alley,  busily  so^\^ng  their 
 seed,  and  on  the  other,  at  the  Samaritans,  tlironging  fi-om  the 
 town  in  answer  to  the  woman's  Ciill,  he  says  to  the  (iisciplos, 
 
 ^  This  Bimilitude  is  of  the  same  character  with  Christ's  parables  rfiven 
 in  the  first  three  Gospels  in  general,  and  eapocially  with  those  taken  from 
 sowing  seed,  &c. ;  a  sign  of  the  comniun  character  that  pervaded  all  his 
 discourses. 
 
STATE  OF  THE  SAMARITANS.  197 
 
 "  Are  ye  not  w-ont  to  say,  at  tliis  season  of  the  year,  '  TJiere 
 are  yet  four  vionths,  and  tlien  cometh  fuirvest  V'^  So  it  is, 
 indeed,  in  the  natural,  but  not  in  the  spiritual  world.  The 
 seed  is  just  sown,  and  ah'eady  the  han'est  appears.  '  Lift  up 
 your  eyes'  (pointing  to  the  approaching  Samaritans),  '  and  see 
 hmo  tlie  fields  are  already  tvliiiening  to  the  harvest.'''" 
 
 A  profound  glance  into  the  soid  of  Christ  and  the  secret 
 connexion  of  his  thoughts  is  now  opened  to  us.-^  He  cannot 
 utter  this  prediction  of  the  glorious  har\-est  that  is  to  follow 
 the  seed  which  he  has  sowti,  ^v'ithout  the  moumful,  though 
 plea.sant,  thought  that  he  shall  not  live  to  see  its  gathering. 
 He  must  leave  the  earth  before  the  harvest-home;  nay,  his 
 death  itself  is  to  prepare  the  way  for  it.  So  he  tells  his  dis- 
 ciples that  tliey  shall  reap  what  he  had  sowed;  but  that  he 
 shall  rejoice  with  them  \^'That  both  he  tJmt  soioeth  and  he  tliat 
 reapeth  o^iay  rejoice  together.  I  sent  you  to  reap  tlmt  whereon  ye 
 bestowed  no  labour'"^.y  Distant  intimations  like  tliis  were  the 
 only  announcements  of  his  approaclung  death  that  Clu'ist  made 
 at  t!iis  early  period  of  his  ministry.'' 
 
 §  126. — Subsequent  State  of  tlvc  Samaritans. 
 At  the  earnest  request  of  the  Samaritans,  who  were  deeply 
 impressed  with  his  appearance  and  his  words,  Christ  remained 
 two  days  with  them  before  continuing  his  joui-ney  to  Galilee. 
 "We  have  no  infonnation  as  to  the  immediate  frait  of  these  his 
 first  labours  among  that  people ;  perhaps  it  was  the  source  of 
 that  religious  awakening  among  them  which  is  recorded  in 
 the  Acts  (viii.  14).  If  this  be  so,  the  seed  sown  by  Christ,  rich 
 and  fruitful  as  it  was  in  the  short  time  of  his  stay,  was  not 
 afterward  carefiilly  cultivated  until  the  Apostles  went  to  Sa- 
 maria; many  foreign  elements  had  crept  in,  and  enthusiasts 
 and  false  prophets  had  led  the  people  astray.  The  pure  mani- 
 festation of  Di\'inity  was  followed  by  a  paltr^"-  caricature.  The 
 unsophisticated  Samaritans  believed  in  Christ,  from  the  Divine 
 power  of  liis  words  and  his  a])pearance,  without  any  miracle ; 
 
 "  A  proverb  taken  from  the  climate  and  farming  of  that  part  of  the 
 country.  *  A  mark  of  truth,  not  of  fiction. 
 
 ?■  There  is  no  ground  wliatever  to  refer  John  iv.  37,  38  (a-s  Stramx 
 does),  especially  to  the  later  ministry  of  the  Apostles  in  Samaria.  The 
 prediction  which  they  contain  is  just  like  tho;ie  in  Matt.  x.  2(3 ;  Luke 
 xii.  3;  and  in  the  parables  hereafter  examined  (p.  1S8-190).  Anyone 
 putting  these  words  into  Christ's  mnutli,  in  order  to  point  to  the  labours 
 of  the  Apostles  in  Samaria  a-s  having  been  preceded  by  Christ's,  would 
 have  been  leas  reserved  and  delicate  about  it  by  far. 
 
 '  Luke  V.  35. 
 
19S  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IX  G^VIJLEE. 
 
 but  at  a  later  period,  when  their  minds  had  been  debauched 
 by  magical  arts  and  legerdemain,  the  most  stiiking  miracles 
 were  requisite  to  restore  them. 
 
 CHAPTER  VII. 
 
 Christ's  first  general  ministry  in  galilee. 
 
 §  127- — Christ  Jteals  the  Nobleman's  Son. — Chooses  Capernaum  for  his 
 A  bode  — Healing  of  Peter's  Wife's  Mother. 
 
 On  his  an'ival  in  Galilee  Jesus  went  again  to  Cana.  (John 
 iv.  AG.)  WTiile  there,  there  came  to  liim  a  man  belonging  to 
 the  court  {patnXiicoc)  of  Herod  Antipas,  and  begged  him  to  go 
 do\vn  to  Capernaum  and  cure  his  son,  who  was  dangerously  ilL 
 Distress  di'ove  this  man  to  Christ;  although  he  might  (if  he 
 had  chosen),  perhaps,  have  received  Divine  impressions  before. 
 He  probably  was,  at  first,  among  the  number  of  those  who 
 verified  the  proverb  in  regard  to  Christ,  "  a  prophet  is  without 
 honour  in  his  own  country."  The  Samaiitans  believed,  be- 
 cause of  their  imoard  wants,  and  of  the  inward  power  of  Divi- 
 nity ;  the  faith  of  the  Galileans  had  to  be  roused  by  visible 
 miracles  and  material  blessings.  To  this  must  we  refer  the 
 words  of  reproof  uttered  by  Cluist  before  he  granted  the 
 man's  prayer:  "Except  ye  see  signs  and  vxmders,  ye  ivill  not 
 believe."'^ 
 
 Ha^'ing,  by  the  miracle  wi'ought  in  this  ca^e,  produced  a  new 
 and  favourable  impression  upon  the  public  mind  at  Capernaum, 
 he  chose  that  place  as  the  seat  of  his  ministiy.  Here  he  taught 
 in  the  synagogue,  and  healed  the  sick.  It  happened  on  a 
 certain  Sabbath,  that  when  he  left  the  synagogue  he  went, 
 attended  by  his  disciples,  to  the  house  in  which  Peter  lived, 
 Avith  his  mother-in-law,  who  lay  ill  at  the  time  of  a  fever.^ 
 Jesus  healed  her,  at  once  and  fully,  so  that  she  was  able  to 
 attend  to  her  household  duties  and  detain  her  guests  for  the 
 Sabbath-day's  dinner."^  As  Chiist  spent  the  day  in  the  house 
 (tlie  rumour  having  probably  been  spread  that  he  would  soon 
 leave  the  town),  sick  persons  were  brought  in  from  all  sides; 
 not,  however,  until  after  sunset,  to  avoid  breaking  the  law  of 
 "the  Sabbath.  Cn  the  next  day  the  people  sti'ove  to  prevent 
 his  departure,  but  he  told  them,  "/  miist  preach  t^ie  kingdom  of 
 ijrod  to  Oliver  cities  also,  for  therefore  am.  I  sent." 
 
 •     •  See  p.  146.  ^  Luke  iv.  3S  ;  Matt,  -v-iii.  14  ;  Mark  i.  29. 
 
 *  Joseph.  De  Vita  Sua,  §  54  :   "'tKTtj  woa,  KaO'  r/v  Tolg  au€€aiTtv  apia- 
 TOiroiitaQai  vofit^ov  iariv  ijiuv." 
 
.    NAZARETH.  199 
 
 §  128. —  Christ  appears  in  the  Synagogue  at  Nazareili. — His  Life  is 
 endangered.     (Luke  iv.  16-30.) 
 
 From  Capernaum  Christ  went  to  Nazareth,  but  the  fame  of 
 his  great  deeds  at  the  former  place  had  gone  before  him.  All 
 eyes  were  turned  upon  him  when  he  appeared  in  the  synagogue 
 on  the  Sabbath ;  they  had  known  liim  as  a  veiy  different  person 
 from  what  fame  now  proclaimed  liim  to  be.  He  took  the  scroll 
 of  the  prophets  that  was  handed  to  him,  and,  Di\'inely  guided, 
 opened  it  at  Isaiah  Ixi.  1.  We  may  infer  from  the  words  of 
 this  passage  that  he  proclaimed  the  arrival  of  the  prophetical 
 Jubilee,  and  declared  liimself  to  be  the  promised  one  that  was 
 to  open  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  and  to  bring  liberty  to  those 
 who  lanfmished  in  the  bonda<2;e  of  sin  and  Satan. 
 
 But  his  hearei*s  were  unconscious  of  theii'  spiritual  bondage, 
 and  longed  for  no  deliverance ;  they  knew  not  of  their  blind- 
 ness, and  asked  not  to  be  healed.  Engrossed  in  the  afiliii-s  of 
 life,  they  were  conscious  of  no  liigher  wants,  and,  therefore, 
 although  his  words  made  an  impression,  it  was  only  upon  the 
 surface.  Their  astonishment  that  a  man  whom  they  had 
 known  from  childhood  should  speak  such  words  of  power  was 
 soon  followed  by  the  doubt,  "  How  comes  it  that  such  a  man 
 should  do  such  great  things  1"  Incapable  of  aj)preciating  the 
 heavenly  gifts  which  Christ  offered,  they  wished  him  (in  their 
 hearts,  if  not  with  their  lips)  to  work  wonders  there,  as  he  had 
 done  at  Capernaum. 
 
 We  have  seen  already''  that  the  fundamental  principles  on 
 which  Christ  acted  forbade  him  to  accept  a  challenge  of  this 
 sort.  He  could  do  nothing  for  those  who  insisted  on  seeing  in 
 order  to  beUeve.  Slaves  to  the  outward  seeming,  and  destitute 
 of  a  spiritual  sense,  they  woiild  have  been  satisfied  •v\'ith  nothing 
 he  might  do;  and  he  refused  them  with  a  rebuke  that  pointed 
 to  the  ground  of  their  offence  and  unbelief:  "  Ye  will  surely  say 
 unto  me  this  proverb,  ^Physician,  heal  thyself;'  tcluitsoever  tve 
 Imve  lueard  done  in  Capernaum,  do  also  here  in  thy  country.^'  He 
 then  quoted,  %vith  special  reference  to  Nazareth,  the  proverb 
 wluch  he  had,  on  another  occasion,  applied  to  the  whole  of 
 Galilee,  "A  prophet  is  without  honour  in  his  o^vn  comitry;""^ 
 and  illustrated,  by  examples  from  the  Old  Testament  (in  op- 
 
 •^  See  p.  144. 
 
 •  The  Nazarenes  represent  the  character  of  the  whole  Jewish  people. 
 The  doctrine  which  Christ  arrayed  against  them — that  God's  gi-ace  is  not 
 imparted  according  to  any  liuinan  standard — contains  the  germ  of  Paul's 
 ninth  chapter  to  the  Eonians,  which  meets  similar  Jewish  demands. 
 
300  FIUST  GEXERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 position  to  their  contracted  arrogance),  the  tnith  that  the 
 grace  of  God,  in  the  distribution  and  application  of  miraculous 
 gifts,  acts  freely;  so  that  they  could  not  extort  a  miracle  by 
 thoir  challenge,  if  it  was  the  Avill  of  God  that  none  should  be 
 ■wrought.  I£e  came  by  no  means  to  heal  all  the  Jew-ish 
 nation. 
 
 At  tliis  rebuke,  the  wrath  of  the  scribes  and  of  the  i-ude 
 multitude  Avas  enldndled  against  him,^  and  the  protecting 
 hand  of  Gou  alone  saA'ed  liim  from  the  death  which  threatened 
 him. 
 
 This  rejection  of  Christ  at  ISTazareth,  due  mainly  to  the  dis- 
 position of  the  chief  men,  is  worthy  of  note,  as  a  tyjje  of  the 
 rejection  which  awaited  him  at  the  hands  of  the  leaders  of  the 
 whole  nation  from  the  same  cause. 
 
 §  129. — Tlie  ParahU  of  the  Sowei-.^ — Christ's  Rrplanatinn  of  tJtc  Parable 
 to  the  smalUr  Circle  of  his  Disciples. 
 
 The  time  intervening  between  Christ's  return  to  Galilee  in 
 November,  and  his  jom-ney  to  Jeiiisalem  to  attend  the  feast  of 
 the  Passover  in  the  following  !March  or  April,  was  spent  in 
 scattering  the  seeds  of  the  kingdom  more  A^dely  among  the 
 peojjle  of  that  country.  Probably  many  of  the  CA'ents  re- 
 corded by  the  first  three  Evangelists  belong  to  this  period. 
 
 Perhaps,  also,  it  was  during  this  period  that  lie  took  occa- 
 sion, as  he  walked  by  the  shores  of  Genesareth,  to  otier  Dixine 
 truth  to  the  gathered  crowds  around  him,  in  the  form  of  a 
 paral)le  suggested  by  the  laboui-s  of  the  ])c;xsants  who  were 
 sowing  their  fields  around.     He  exhibited  A-i^-idly  to  their 
 
 '  Lxike'.s  account  of  this  ia  very  graphic,  hiit  very  brief;  many  other 
 things  may  liave  occurred  to  stir  up  the  anger  of  tlie  people.  But  when 
 we  renieniber  the  fame  that  had  preceded  his  coming,  the  striking  exor- 
 dium with  which  he  opened  his  .speecli  (.addressed,  however,  only  to 
 susceptible  souls),  and,  tinall}-,  that,  instead  of  complying  with  their 
 request,  he  refused  and  rebuked  them  .at  the  same  time,  we  may  readily 
 conceive  why  thoy  should  be  angi-y  at  the  "son  of  the  carpenter,"  now 
 coming  forward  with  the  pretensions  of  a  prophet.  Their  excited  selfish- 
 ness now  took  the  garb  of  zeal  against  a  false  prophet.  According  to 
 Luke's  account,  Christ  wrought  no  miracle  here,  and  tliis  accords  with  tlio 
 words  he  uttered  :  the  less  detailed  stitements  of  the  other  Evangelist«i 
 (Matt,  xiii,  58  ;  Mark  vi.  5)  imply  that  he  wrought  a  feu\  In  this  last 
 ca.se,  it  might  lie  supjwsed  that  he  did  not  leave  the  town  immediately 
 after  the  synagogue  .service,  and  that,  meanwhile,  something  occurred  to 
 excite  the  people.  It  is  jirobable,  however,  that  we  must  consider  Luke's 
 statement  the  most  definite,  both  in  view  of  the  gcner.al  principles  on  whicli 
 Christ  wrought  his  mighty  works,  and  also  of  the  si^cial  relation  in  whicli 
 lie  stood  to  the  Nazarenes. 
 
 s  Matt.  xiii.  1-!) ;  Mark  iv.  1-9  ;  Luke  viii.  4-8. 
 
PARABLE  OF  THE  SOWER.  201 
 
 minds,  under  the  figure  of  the  seed,  the  object  of  Ids  proclama- 
 tion, the  disi)Ositious  of  mind  witli  which  it  must  be  received 
 in  order  to  accomi)lish  that  object,  and  the  hinderances  with 
 which  it  is  wont  to  meet  in  human  nature. 
 
 It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  Christ  uttei-ed  this  parable 
 (which  refers  solely  to  the  operations  of  the  word  pr(jclaimed 
 by  liim)  as  an  isolated  sj)eech ;  indeed,  it  is  distinctly  intimated 
 (Mark  iv.  2)  that  an  exhortation  or  warning  to  liis  hearers 
 pi'eceded  it. 
 
 He  di^'ides  his  hearers  into  two  principal  classes,  (I.)  those 
 in  whom  the  word  received  is  unfruitful,  and  (II.)  those  in 
 whom  it  brings  forth  fruit.  In  the  first  class,  again,  he  dis- 
 tinguishes (a)  the  totally  unsusceptible,  and  (b)  those  to  whom 
 the  word  indeed  finds  access,  but  yet  biings  fox'th  no  fruit. 
 Of  these  last,  again,  there  are  two  subdivisions. 
 
 I.  THE  UNFRITTFUL  HEARERS. 
 
 (a.)  The  totally  Unwsceptiile. 
 The  seed,  which  does  not  penetrate  the  earth  at  all,  but 
 remains  upon  the  surface,  and  is  trodden  or  devoiu-ed  by  birds, 
 con-esponds  to  the  relation  of  the  Di^■ine  word  to  the  wholly 
 worldly,  who,  utterly  unsusceptible,  reject  the  truth  without 
 ever  comprehending  it  at  all. 
 
 (6.)  The  partially  Susceptible. 
 
 (1.)  T/ie  Stony-growid  Hearers. — Under  the  figure  of  the 
 stony  ground,  in  which  the  seed  shoots  up  quickly,  but  \vithers 
 as  soon,  for  want  of  earth  and  moisture,  he  depicts  that  Lively 
 but  shallow  susceptibility  of  spirit  Avhich  gi-asps  the  truth 
 eagerly,  but  receives  no  deep  impressions,  and  yields  as  quickly 
 to  the  reaction  of  worldly  temptations  as  it  had  pelded  to  the 
 Di\'ine  word.  Faith  must  prove  itself  in  strife  against  the 
 world  without,  as  well  as  Avithiu ;  but  the  mind  just  described 
 never  appropriates  the  ti'uth  in  such  a  way  as  to  obtain  j)ower 
 to  resist. 
 
 (2.)  The  Word  cliohed  among  Thorm. — Tlie  seed  which 
 germinates  and  takes  root,  but  is  stifled  by  the  thorns  that 
 shoot  up  with  it,  figures  the  mind  in  which  the  impure 
 elements  of  worldly  desii*e  develop  themselves  along  with  the 
 higher  life,  and  at  last  become  strong  enough  to  crush  it,  su 
 that  the  received  truth  is  utterly  lost. 
 
 II.  THE  FRUITFUL  HEARERS. 
 
 When  seed  Ls  sowni  into  good  ground,  it  is  variously  pro- 
 
202  FIRST  GE>'EKAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 (luctive  according  to  the  fertility  of  tlie  soil.  So  the  fruitful- 
 ness  of  Divine  tinith,  when  once  appropriated,  depends  upon 
 the  degree  in  -which  it  penetrates  the  whole  inteiuor  life  and 
 all  the  powers  of  the  spirit,  stamping  itself  upon  the  truth- 
 inspired  course  of  life. 
 
 With  what  perfect  simplicity  are  the  profovmdest  truths  in 
 regard  to  the  growth  of  religious  life  imfolded  in  this  parable  ! 
 So  vivid  an  impression  was  made  upon  a  woman  in  the 
 throng,  that  she  exclaimed,  "  Blessed  is  the  toomb  tJuit  bare  thee, 
 and  the  breast  that  gave  thee  suck."^^  But  Chiist  rejected  this 
 external  veneration,  and  said,  as  if  with  prophetic  warning 
 against  that  tendency  to  fix  religious  feeling  upon  the  ovticard, 
 which  in  later  times  so  sadly  disfigured  true  Chi'istianity, 
 "No,  ratlier  blessed  are  tliey  that  hear  tlie  word  of  God  and 
 heep  it;"  with  obvious  reference  to  the  parable,  which 
 illustrated  the  faitlifiil  reception  and  use  of  the  Di-vdne 
 word. 
 
 After  the  dispersion  of  the  multitude,  the  smaller  circle  of 
 disciples  gathered  about  Christ  and  asked  a  fvirther  explana- 
 tion of  the  parable.'  He  told  them  that  to  them  it  should 
 remain  no  longer  a  parable  ;J  tlvey  might  clearly  apprehend  the 
 truth  which  was  only  ofiered  in  a  veil  to  the  stupid  mvdtitude. 
 After  unfolding  its  import,  he  taught  them  that  the  truth  then 
 veiled  in  parables  was  to  become  a  light  for  all  mankind  ;  that 
 they  were  to  train  themselves  to  be  his  organs  in  difi'using  it ; 
 but  that,  in  order  to  this,  they  must  ever  grow  in  the  know- 
 ledge of  his  truth  by  a  faitliful  employment  of  the  means  that 
 he  had  given  them.  "  No  man,  when  he  luxth  lighted  a  candle, 
 covereth  itioith  a  vessel,  or  puiteth  it  tinder  a  bench;  but  scttefh  it 
 on  a  candlestick,  tltat  they  which  enter  in  may  see  the  light.  (So, 
 also,  the  truth,  destined  to  be  a  light  for  all  mankind,  must 
 not  be  concealed,  but  diffuse  its  light  on  all  that  seek  to  enter 
 the  kingdom  of  God.)  For  tliere  is  nothing  hid  that  shall  not  be 
 known  and  come  abroad.  (And  he  adds  waniingly  t.o  his  disci- 
 ples). Take  heed,  tlierefore,  how  ye  hear  ;  for  u-limoevei'  hath,  to 
 him  shall  be  given;  and  tvlwsoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be 
 taken  even  that  v;hich  Jie  seemeth  to  liave.  (Evciything  de- 
 pends upon  the  spirit  in  which  the  truth  is  received  and 
 put  to  use.)" 
 
 '■  Luke  xi.  2".  We  sliall  give  our  reasons,  fiirther  on,  in  placing  these 
 •R-nnls  in  this  connexion. 
 
 '  Matt.  xiii.  18-23  ;  Mark  iv.  10-25  ;  Luke  viii.  9-18. 
 •»  Cf.  p.  109. 
 
PARABLE  OF  THE  WHEAT  AXD  THE  TARES.  203 
 
 §  130. — Parable  of  Oie  various  Kinds  of  Fish  in  the  Xei.^ — Of  (lie 
 Wheat  and  (he  Tares} 
 
 Marvellous  was  the  spirit-glance  with  which  Chi-i.st  sur- 
 veyed not  only  the  process  by  which  the  higher  life  which  he 
 had  inti'odaced  iuto  humanity  was  to  develop  itself,  accoixling 
 to  its  owm  inherent  laws,  but  also  the  manifold  corruptions  and 
 liinderances  that  awaited  it.  The  parables  in  which  he  illus- 
 trated the  hinderances  and  obstacles  of  the  truth  were  also 
 derived  from  the  s^jhere  of  nature  and  of  life  immediately 
 aa'ound  him — the  toils  of  the  fishermen  in  the  Sea  of  Gcne- 
 sareth,  and  of  the  husbandmen  in  the  fertile  fields  about  its 
 shores. 
 
 He  had  to  teach  his  disciples  that  not  all  who  joined  liim 
 were  fitted  to  be  genuine  followers,  and  that  the  spurious  and 
 the  time  should  be  intermixed  in  his  visible  kingdom,  until 
 that  final  process  of  decision  which  God  had  reserved  to  liim- 
 self  To  convey  this  truth,  he  compares  the  kingdom  of  God, 
 in  the  process  of  its  development  on  eai"th  (which  corresponds 
 to  the  visible  Chui'ch  as  distinguished  from  the  inAd.sible),  to  a 
 net  cast  into  the  sea,  in  wliich  fish  of  all  kinds,  good  and 
 "worthless,  are  caught,  and  which  are  only  assorted  after  the 
 net  has  been  drawn  to  the  shore. 
 
 It  was,  perhaps,  an  expression  of  surjii-ise  on  the  part  of  his 
 disciples,  at  the  long  forbearance  of  Cluist  toward  some  whom 
 they  deemed  unworthy — and  certainly  there  w^as  one  such  in 
 the  iixmiediate  circle  of  his  followers — that  gave  him  occasion 
 to  utter  the  parable  of  the  "  Wheat  and  the  Tares."  Its  object 
 was  to  warn  them  (and  the  leaders  of  the  Church  in  all  ages) 
 against  arbiti-arily  and  impatiently  anticipating  the  Divine 
 Avisdom,  which  guides  all  the  threads  of  the  Church's  pi'ogress 
 to  one  aim ;  against  attempting  to  distingui.sh  the  spurious 
 from  the  genuine  members  before  that  final  sifting  of  the  king- 
 dom which  God  liimself  will  make ;  to  teach  them  that  men 
 have  no  means  of  making  such  decisions  unerringly,  and  might 
 cut  oft*,  as  false,  some  who  were,  or  might  become,  true  subjects 
 of  the  kingdom. 
 
 The  chief  point  in  the  parable  is,  that  while  the  genuine 
 seed  germinates  and  brings  forth  fruit,  the  bastard  seed  is  also 
 •sown  among  it,  and  both  .shootmg  up  together,  the  bastard 
 wheat,  from  its  likeness  to  the  time,  cannot  well  be  discrimi- 
 nated until  harvest,  when  its  real  natiu'e  is  manifested.     The 
 
 "  Matt.  xiii.  47.  '  Matt.  xiii.  24. 
 
204  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 other  point  of  comparison  is  the  impatience  of  the  servants, 
 who  wish  to  pull  up  the  tares  at  once. 
 
 It  is  a  question  whether  the  individual  trait  that  the  tares 
 were  sown  by  the  enemy  "while  vien  shpt"^  had  any  special 
 prominence.  If  so,  it  contains  an  exhortation  to  the  leaders  of 
 the  Church  to  be  watchful ;  implying  that  carelessness  and 
 inflifference  on  their  part  may  admit  false  members  among  the 
 true.  But  no  such  exhortation  is  aftenvard  expressed,  and, 
 moreover,  the  whole  jilan  of  the  parable  j)resupposes  that  these 
 spuiious  admixtures  will  iiecessarily  take  place  in  the  progi'ess 
 of  the  kingdom  ;  that  no  care  or  foresight  can  prevent  them. 
 We  must,  therefore,  consider  this  trait  as  belonging  to  the 
 colouring  rather  than  the  substance  of  the  parable. 
 
 /      §  131. — Christ  subdues  a  Storm  on  the  Sea. — Charade)'  of  the  Act 
 ^'  "  as  a  Miracle. — Its  moral  Significance. 
 
 '  1      "disciples  had  many  opportunities,  on  the  Sea  of  Gene- 
 
 .i      of  contrasting  then*  own  spiritual  feebleness  with  the 
 
 •|.    .  ,      "'  of  the  Saviour's  soul ;  an  experience  that  was  useful, 
 
 .      "^  +if  '^  *^^  time,  but  as  a  preparation  for  their  own  subse- 
 
 ,     .-,      1  .  1     'casion,"^  sailing  from  the  western  to  the  eastern 
 truth  which  wt       .  i      -.i  i         r  i  •    j-    •  i  j 
 
 I,  r..  r-  ^^■      a,  m  a  vessel  with  a  number  oi  ms  disciples  and 
 
 After  uniolding    ■   .      ^  1,1  ,     -..i,  i  •    ^ 
 
 .,    1  .  1^    into  sleep,  probably  worn  out  with  Ms  pre\^ous 
 
 veiled  m  parables  .       -i       1      •    1  u  ■  -j.     i  -a- 
 
 . ,  .     .     •  ins  the  physical  as  well  as  si^iritual  necessities 
 
 they  were  to  tram  .rf.,     -.'^    •'         ,  ,     ^  •  1     i. 
 
 ,/,■,,.         1      ihile  he  was  asleep,  a  storm  arose,  so  %^olent 
 but  that,  in  order  t    ,     ,       , .         n  \{  ■,      mi,     j-    •  ^ 
 
 11        r.  1  •    ,      ,11     destruction  01  the  vessel,     ihe  disciples, 
 ledge  01  his  truth  by         ,    ,  ,         ,   ,  1   i  •      •  S  ■ 
 
 T     ^    -,     •         ,1       "^    and  always  accustomed  to  seek  Jus  aid  m 
 he  had  given  them.      .      „       "^  i  t       r        -Li.         j    i 
 
 ^j  V,     .^,  7  im  irom  sleep,     in  a  lew  short  words  he 
 
 coveret/i  it  vnt/i  a  vessel,  t.       ,    ,,        ^  ,      ,, ,        , -n  n       j    • 
 
 77   ^-7    ^7   ^  A   and   the  waves  to   "be  still,     and    is 
 on  a  candlestick,  that  they  ,  .i     ^         c      i.  tt       -in 
 
 1       ,1      ,     ^1     1    ,•      1  d  over  the  lace  01  nature.     He  mildly 
 also,  the  truth,  destined  t  rrr,         .  ^  -w  0      i    j.        i.     c 
 
 ,\  1    1   1    I    vrc    Where  is  iiour  jaxth  l  what   sort  ot 
 
 not  be  concealed,  but  ditrus.  ''.i    /     ,    ,       „„ 
 
 , ,     ,  .      1         r  i-i   J  \     E7      can  so  easily  be  shaken  s 
 the  kmgdom  01  God.)    JJor  \.    ,    ,.        .,•'  .     ,,       ,. 
 
 T  °,  77/Aut  the  other  persons  in  the  ship, 
 
 knoxon  and  come  abroad.    (An.       .      ,       r<       mi.  „ 
 
 ■i    \    m  1     -     7   ^7      I-       7    's  miracle.     One  of  the  strangers" 
 pies),  1  ake  toeed,  therefore,  hoic  ,. ,  .  ,       ,        -.'^     , 
 
 I  •       I  71  -L      •  77       many  01  ms  wonders  to  ask  such 
 
 him  shall  be  given;  and  wliosoc,-,  ■-,    c  •    j.t,-     xu  4. 
 
 ^7  .r  .     7.77  kinti  ot  man  is  this,  that  even 
 
 taken  even  that  which  lie  seeme'IT 
 
 pends  upon  the    spirit   in  which    ,    ,,       , ,  . 
 ^    ^  ,       ^    ,„  ^  'hether  this  occun-ence  can- 
 
 put  to  use.) 
 
 .    _    ,        .    „„      ,.,^     ,    ,,     .  Mark  iv.  36-41.    The  connexion 
 
 »  Luke  XI.  2/.     We  shall  give  our  reasons  ^j^^  ^ext  of  the  EvangeUsts  is 
 ■w-ords  in  this  connexion  d  of  such  a  conuexiou  exists. 
 
 ■  Matt.  xin.  18-23;  Mark  iv.  10-25;  Luke-^^t^g  ^hat  these  person., 
 j  Cf.  p.  109. 
 
THE  STOKM  SUBDUED.  205 
 
 not  be  explained  from  the  subjective  apprehension  of  the  men 
 themselves,  e.  g.,  as  follows.  When  Jesus  awoke,  and  spoke 
 calmJy  to  them,  his  composure  quieted  their  perturbed  minds. 
 A  calm  in  the  elements  ensued  ;  and  they  transferred  the 
 impression  made  upon  their  minds  to  Natiu-e.  Interpreting 
 the  few  words  uttered  by  Christ  in  this  way,  they  involuntarily 
 altered  them  a  shade  in  repeating  them  afterward. 
 
 Now,  even  if  this  theory  were  atlmitted,  it  would  leave  the 
 Divine  image  of  Christ  untouched  in  its  sublimity.  He  that, 
 on  awaking  suddenly  from  sleep,  coidd  impress  men's  minds 
 vvdth  such  a  belief,  by  a  word  and  a  glance,  must  have  been  the 
 Son  of  God. 
 
 But  the  theory  cannot  be  admitted.  Christ  must  have 
 knoAvn  that  the  observers  looked  upon  Ids  words  as  the  catose 
 of  the  calm  that  ensued,  and  woidd  not  have  employed  a 
 deceit  to  confirm  theii-  faith  in  his  sovereignty,  wliich,  resting 
 upon  the  foundations  of  truth,  needed  no  such  props  as  this. 
 He  would  rather  have  taken  occasion,  from  such  a  misunder- 
 standing (had  it  occmTed),  to  convey  a  usefid  lesson  to  his 
 futui-e  Apostles.  He  would  have  told  them,  probably,  that  his 
 work  was,  not  to  subdue  the  storms  and  waves  of  nature,  but 
 of  men's  soids;  that  to  souls  full  of  his  peace  and  joy  no  powers 
 of  the  world  could  bring  terror. 
 
 In  short,  our  interpretation  of  the  event  will  depend  upon 
 the  general  view  of  the  person  of  Christ  with  wliich  we  set 
 out.  Were  an  achievement  like  this  attributed  to  a  smnt,  we 
 should  be  entitled  to  give  it  such  an  interpretation  as  the  above ; 
 but  it  is  ascribed  to  Jesus,  the  son  of  God,  who  revealed,  in  the 
 liistory  which  we  have  of  his  life,  powers  adequate  to  such  a  deed. 
 
 The  moral  design  of  the  mii-acle  was,  partly,  to  impress  liis 
 sovereignty  upon  the  minds  of  certain  persons  who  had  before 
 seen  no  exlubitions  of  it ;  and,  partly,  to  confirm  the  faith  of 
 the  Apostles  in  his  power  to  subjugate  nature,  and  make  her 
 opei-ations  tributary  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  And  this  sensi- 
 ble mir-acle  was  an  image  of  that  higher  spiritual  one  which 
 Chi'ist  works  in  all  ages,  in  speaking  peace  to  the  soul  amid 
 all  the  tempests  of  life,  and  in  bringing  to  obedience  all  the 
 raging  powers  that  oppose  the  progi-ess  of  his  kingdom. 
 
 §  132. — The  Gadarene  Demoniac." — Christ's  Treatment  of  him  after 
 the  Cure. — Inferences  from  it. 
 
 Christ  lauded  on  the  eastern  shore,  near  the  town  oiGadara. 
 
 Many  pagans  probably  resided  in  that  vicinity,  as  herds  of 
 
 °  Matt.  viii.  28  :  Mark  v.  1-20  ;  Luke  viii.  26-39.     Two  demoniacs  are 
 
206  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 swine  abounded.  A  demoniac,  P  who  could  not  possibly  be 
 kept  chained  in  his  raging  paroxysms,  but  constantly  broke 
 his  fetters  and  eluded  his  guardians,  was  wandering  about  near 
 the  landing-place.  He  believed  himself  inhabited  and  hurried 
 hither  and  thither  by  a  host  of  evil  spmts.  Driven  naked 
 from  the  haunts  of  men  by  the  direful  powers,  he  sought  a 
 dreary  refuge  amid  the  grave-stones  and  old  tombs i  of  the 
 Avilderness. 
 
 Probably  attracted  by  the  noise  of  the  landing,  the  demoniac 
 ran  to  meet  the  passengers  as  they  disembarked  ;  ha^•ing  pro- 
 bably, also,  heard  of  the  fame  of  Jesus,  which  had  spread  from 
 the  western  to  the  eastern  shore  of  the  lake.  From  what  we 
 can  leam,  we  should  judge  that  the  man  was  a  heathen,  who 
 had,  however,  dwelt  much  among  the  Jews,  and  therefore  con- 
 founded Jewish  and  pagan  notions  together  in  his  disturbed 
 consciousness.  So  he  probably  addressed  Jesus  as  "the  son 
 of  the  highest  God,"  rather  in  a  pagan  than  Jewish  sense."" 
 The  appearance  of  Christ  (probably  combined  Avith  what  he 
 had  previously  heard)  affected  liim  profoimdly ;  the  waning 
 ]jowers  -wdthin  him — as  was  generally  the  case  when  Christ's 
 Divinity  came  in  contact  with  demoniacs — partly  urged  him 
 toward  the  Saviour,  and  partly  held  liim  back ;  attracted  as  he 
 was,  he  could  not  bear  the  presence  of  Jesus.  There  is  something 
 in  him  wliich  resists  and  dreads  the  Divine  power.  Losing  his 
 proper  identity  in  that  of  the  evil  spii-its  that  possess  him,  he 
 personates  them,  and  recognizing,  ^vith  terror,  the  Son  of  God 
 as  the  future  Judge,  he  exclaims,  in  anguish,  "  What  hast  thou 
 to  do  Avith  us,  thou  Son  of  the  Highest  1  (What  would  the 
 Heavenly,  so  near  us  ?)  Why  hast  thou  come  hither  before 
 the  time  (before  the  final  doom),  to  make  us  feel  thy  power, 
 and  torment  us?"* 
 
 Christ's  first  procedure  is  not  such  a.s  to  imply  that  he  haij 
 
 mentioned  by  Matthew,  perhaps  because  the  demoniac  speaks  in  the  plural 
 number.  p  Cf.  p.  154. 
 
 1  Tliese  are  still  to  be  found  among  the  ruins  of  Om-Keis,  probably  the 
 ancient  O'udara.  (Cf.  Burckhardt,  i.  426  ;  Gesenius,  Anmerkungen,  538 ; 
 Robinson  iii.  535.)  Origeii  must  have  been  mistaken  (t.  vi.  in  Joann.  §  24) 
 in  saying  that  Gadara  cnuld  not  1)€  the  spot,  because  there  is  neitlier  lake 
 nor  precipice  near;  lie  ])robably  looked  for  the  theatre  of  the  event  in  the 
 immediate  vicinity  of  the  town,  which  by  no  means  follows  necessarily 
 from  the  narrative. 
 
 '  Cf  the  words  of  the  heatlien  woman,  Acts  xvi.  17. 
 
 '  The  original  form  of  these  words  is  probably  that  given  by  Matthew. 
 Eveiything  leads  us  to  conclude  that  the  demoniac,  impressed  by  the  per- 
 son of  Christ,  addressed  him  first. 
 
THE  GADARENE  DEMONIAC.  207 
 
 to  do  with  evil  spii'its.  He  directs  his  words  to  the  man,  seeks 
 to  get  his  attention  and  draw  him  into  conversation,  so  as  to 
 prepare  the  way  for  further  influences.  As  a  beginning,  he 
 asks  the  man  his  name.  But  the  demoniac,  still  blending  his 
 own  identity  with  that  of  the  evil  spii'its,  answers,  "Legion:'' 
 it  is  a  whole  legion  of  evil  spii-its  that  dwell  in  him.  Ho  then 
 reiterates,  in  their  person,  the  prayer  that  Christ  would  not 
 cast  them  into  Hades  before  their  time  ;  and  perceiving  a  herd 
 of  smne  feeding  at  a  distance,  the  unclean  spirits  are  associated 
 with  the  unclean  beasts  in  his  perturbed  thoughts.  He  then 
 beseeches  Christ  that,  if  the  spirits  are  compelled  to  leave  the 
 nian,  they  may  be  permitted  to  enter  the  sicine,  under  the 
 notion  that  they  cannot  exist  except  as  united  to  material 
 bodies. 
 
 There  is  a  gap  here  in  our  connexion  of  the  facts.  Did 
 Christ  really  participate  in  the  opinions  of  the  demoniac,  or 
 was  it  only  subsequently  inferred''  from  the  fact  that  the  swine 
 rushed  dovvTQ,  that  Chri.st  had  allowed  the  evil  spirits  to  take 
 possession  of  them  1  It  is  certain,  at  any  rate,  that  they 
 did  cast  themselves  over  the  precipice  into  the  sea,  as 
 if  driven  by  an  invisible  j  ower,  and  that  many  of  them 
 perished. 
 
 One  thing  is  very  clear,  a  man  in  such  a  state  could  not 
 have  been  cured  by  Christ's  merely  humouring  his  whims,  and 
 by  a  single  coincidence  like  that  of  the  herd's  thi'owing  them- 
 selves o-\er  the  precipice.  Nay,  he  could  not  have  made  the 
 request  that  he  did,  nor  have  beUeved  that  the  evil  spirits  had 
 abandoned  liim  at  Christ's  command,  had  not  Christ,  by  the 
 
 *  Strikingly  as  this  graphic  narrative  bears  the  marks  of  tnith,  this  is 
 still  its  obscure  point.  Some  have  attempted  to  clear  it  up  liy  the  suppo- 
 sition that  the  demoniac  threw  himself  upon  the  herd  after  Christ  spoke  to 
 him.  Eut  this  is  inconsistent  with  the  facts.  It  is  not  probable  that  a 
 paroxysm  like  this  could  have  seized  him  after  the  impression  which  Christ 
 had  made  upon  him.  Moreover,  this  explanation  atlbrds  no  ground  for 
 the  notion  of  the  demoniac  that  the  spirits  had  abandoned  him  for  the 
 swine,  but  would  rather  convince  him  of  the  continuance  of  their  power 
 over  him.  In  order  to  believe  the  former,  he  must  have  stood  as  a  quiet 
 spectator  while  the  herd  was  violently  driven  into  the  sea  by  an  invisible 
 power.  The  analogy  of  the  notions  of  the  time  favours  this.  In  the 
 reference  to  Joscphus,  before  made  (p.  ICO),  the  exorcist  bids  the  demon 
 leave  the  sufferer  and  enter  a  vessel  of  water  that  stood  by ;  and  his  obe- 
 dience is  proved  by  the  fall  of  the  vessel  of  its  oun  accord.  So  the  swine 
 must  have  rushed  down  of  their  own  accord,  to  afford  any  proof  that  the 
 devils  had  left  the  man  and  entered  them.  Finally,  an  attack  of  the 
 swine,  on  the  part  of  the  demoniac,  could  have  been  no  matter  of  surprise 
 to  the  swineherds.     (Matt.  viii.  37.) 
 
208  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 power  of  liis  spmt,  made  a  niiglity  impression  upon  him  before. 
 What  followed  shows,  however,  more  clearly  that  Christ  used 
 higher  influences  to  restore  his  shattered  soul  to  its  pi-istine 
 soundness. 
 
 Although  no  detailed  account  is  left  of  what  immediately 
 followed,  we  may  yet  conclude,  from  the  result,  that  many 
 things  occurred  between  Christ  and  the  demoniac  after  the 
 preparatory  work  above  related.  His  heart  had  been  made 
 susceptible  of  I'arther  spiritual  influences.  The  pi'esence  and 
 words  of  Christ  produced  additional  efiects,  as  we  And  the  man 
 sitting  clothed,  and  in  his  right  mind,  at  the  feet  of  Jesus, 
 listening  to  liim  with  eager  devotion.  So  moved  is  he,  that 
 he  wishes  to  attach  himself  to  Christ  and  follow  him  every- 
 whei-e. 
 
 But  Christ  (who  had  reserved  for  a  subsequent  period  the 
 conversion  of  the  heathen)  tells  the  restored  man  to  "  go  home 
 to  his  friencls."^  We  see  in  this,  as  in  many  other  examples, 
 how  Christ's  conduct  varied  with  circumstances,  and  how  care- 
 fully we  should  guard  against  deducing  general  principles  from 
 his  procedure  in  isolated  cases.  While  he  calls  upon  some  to 
 leave  home  and  family  to  follow  him,  he  bids  this  man  to  follow 
 first  the  purely  himiau  feelings  which  had  been  reinstated  in 
 their  natm-al  rights  within  him  ;  to  return,  sane  and  calm,  to 
 the  family  which  he  had  abandoned  as  a  maniac ;  and  to  glorify 
 God  among  them,  by  telling  them  how  Christ  had  v/rought 
 the  mighty  change,  and  giving  them  a  living  proof  of  it  in  his 
 own  person.  He  tells  some  on  whom  he  had  wrought  miracles 
 not  to  say  too  much  about  what  he  had  done  ;  but  this  one  he 
 commands  to  publish  everywhere  among  his  friends  what  great 
 things  God  had  wrought  for  him.  In  tliis  case  it  was  heatliens 
 (not  Jews)  that  were  concerned. 
 
 The  way  in  which  Christ  gave  peace  and  harmony  to  this 
 distracted  and  lacerated  soul  aflbrds  an  image  of  the  whole 
 work  of  redemption.  The  first  emotion  of  the  uncultivated  and 
 (chiefly)  heathen  people  ai'oimd  was  ^ar;  not  the  feeling  then 
 best  adapted  to  render  them  susceptible  of  liis  teaching.  But 
 the  simi>le  story  of  the  restored  man's  experience  Avas  adapted 
 to  lead  them  to  contemplate  Christ,  no  longer  on  the  .side  of 
 his  power,  but  of  his  love  and  holiness.^' 
 
 "  Mark  v.  19. 
 
 *  Tlie  narrative  does  not  say  whether  this  foundation  of  Divine  know- 
 ledge was  ever  built  upon  among  them. 
 
THE  ISSUE  OF  BLOOD.  209 
 
 §  133. — Christ  Rciwns  to  the  west  side  of  Genesareth. — Healing  of 
 the  Issue  of  Blood.'" 
 
 Wlieii  Christ  returned  to  the  western  shore  of  the  lake,  he 
 foTind  a  multitiide  of  people  awaiting  his  aiiival.  One  of  the 
 rulers  of  the  synagogue,  named  Jairus,  whose  daughter  of  twelve 
 years'*^  lay  so  ill  that  her  deatli  was  houi'ly  expected,  pressed 
 through  the  throng  to  the  Savioiu",  and  besought  him  to  go  to 
 his  house.  He  ai'ose  to  grant  the  sorrowing  father's  prayer, 
 but  the  crowd  detained  them. 
 
 A  woman  who  had  suffered  with  an  issue  for  twelve  years, 
 and  had  sought  aid  in  vain  from  physicians,  approached  liini 
 thi'ough  the  press  from  behind.  She  did  not  venture  to  address 
 liim  directly,  but  ha\dng  formed  the  idea  in  her  o^vn  way,  she 
 thought  that  a  sort  of  magical  healing  power  streamed  forth 
 from  liis  person,  and  that  she  might  be  relieved  of  her  malady 
 simply  by  touching  his  garment.  Her  believing  confidence, 
 although  blended  with  eiToneous  conceptions,  was  not  disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 Christ  felt  that  some  one  had  touched  his  robe,y  and  inquired 
 who  it  was.  Peter,  foi-ward  as  usual,  spoke  for  the  disciples, 
 and  Sixid  (very  candidly,  doubtless,  as  he  probably  did  not 
 observe  the  woman's  movement),  "  How  canst  thou  be  sur- 
 prised, in  the  midst  of  such  a  throng,  that  the  people  approach 
 and  touch  thee  f  But  Chiist  repeated  his  question,  and  the 
 woman,  who  had  not  before  ventured  a  word,  expecting  to  be 
 fli.scovei-ed,  fell  trembling  at  his  feet,  and  proclaimed  before  all 
 what  had  happened  to  her.  Jesus,  kindly  encom-aging  the 
 trembling  heart,  said  to  her,  "i?e  of  good  clveer,  thy  faith  Ivaih 
 saved  iliee;  go  in  peace."  ^ 
 
 "  Matt.  ix.  18-26  ;  Mark  v.  21  ;  Luke  \nii.  40. 
 
 *  Straitss  says  that  this  age  of  "  twclre  "  was  a  mere  fiction,  in  imitation 
 of  the  twelve  years  of  the  issue  of  blood.  There  is  not  a  sliadow  of  reason 
 to  suppose  that  Luke's  statements  are  not  literally  correct  in  both  in- 
 stances ;  but  even  if  they  were  not,  if  a  round  number  only  i.'^  meant,  and 
 the  one  period  modelled  after  the  other,  the  veracity  of  the  narrative 
 would  be  in  nowise  impeached. 
 
 y  Luke's  account  could  have  been  given  by  none  but  an  eye-witness  in 
 such  lively  and  minute  detail ;  e.  (/.  Christ's  question,  Peter's  answer,  the 
 repetition  of  the  question,  &c.  Jloreover,  Luke  makes  the  cure  iimne- 
 diate  upon  the  touching  of  the  gannent  ;  in  Matthew  it  follows  the  words 
 of  Christ  in  the  usual  way.  Luke's  eye-witness  had  tlie  conception  of  the 
 mode  of  cure  that  the  NVoman  herself  had,  and  so  interpreted  Christ's 
 words  (viii.  46). 
 
 •■  The  narrative  does  not  decide  whether  the  approach  of  the  woman 
 
 P 
 
210  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 §  134. — Raising  of  Jairus's  Daughter. — And  of  the  Widow's  Son 
 at  Nain. 
 
 In  the  mean  time  a  message  came  from  the  house  of  Jairus 
 that  his  daughter  was  dead,  and  that,  as  nothing  could  be  done, 
 the  Master  need  be  troubled  no  further.  ^^  But  ChrLst,  not  hin- 
 dered by  the  news,  said  to  the  father,  "  Be  not  afraid;  only 
 believe,  and  she  shall  he  made  lohole." 
 
 What  right  had  he  to  hold  out  tliis  hope  to  the  parent,  and 
 in  what  sense  did  he  do  it  ?  Did  he  know,  from  the  reported 
 symptoms,  that  the  death  was  only  apparent,  and  that  he  was 
 going  to  cure  a  fainting-fit  by  remedies  in  his  possession  ?  Had 
 this  been  the  case,  he  surely  would  have  guarded  against  ex- 
 citing hopes  that  might  be  disappointed ;  he  would  have  said, 
 in  words,  that  liis  expectations  wei'e  founded  only  on  the  sup- 
 position tliat  the  girl  was  in  a  trance ;  and  as  natural  signs 
 alone  could  give  no  unening  certainty  of  cure,  he  woiild,  in 
 mere  prudence,  have  spoken  conditionally,  telling  the  father, 
 perhaps,  to  trust  in  God,  but  yet,  at  the  same  time,  to  resign 
 himself  to  the  Divine  will.  In  a  word,  he  could  only  have 
 spoken  as  Ihe  did,  from  a  Divine  confidence  that  he  could,  by 
 the  power  of  God  within  him,  restore  life  to  the  dead  body. 
 
 At  the  door  of  the  house  the  mother  comes  to  meet  them. 
 A  throng  of  curious  persons  at  the  door  desire  to  enter,  but  he 
 admits  only  the  parents,  with  three  of  his  most  intimate  disci- 
 ples. In  the  chamber  of  death  he  finds  already  gathered  the 
 minstrels  and  mourners.  "  Weqi  not^''  said  he  to  them  ;  "  she 
 is  not  dead,  hut  sleepeth." 
 
 These  words  might  have  been  used,  it  is  true,  if  he  meant  (as 
 some  suppose)  to  state  her  condition  according  to  the  symptoms, 
 
 was  knowTi  to  Christ,  and  lie  healed  her  intentionally,  or  whether  the  cure 
 was  a  Divine  operation,  independently  of  him  (a  2ifiysical  cause  being  laid 
 out  of  the  case),  caused  by  the  woman's  faith,  and  thus  serving  to  gloriiy 
 her  trust  in  Christ. 
 
 •  Tiie  discrepancy  between  Luke'a  account  (viii.  49)  and  Matthew's 
 (ix.  18,  scq.)  has  been  made  a  ground  of  objection.  It  has  been  supposed 
 that  the  second  message  is  a  mere  filling  up  of  Luke's.  A  similar  dis- 
 crepancy, as  to  the  sending  of  a  message,  occurs  in  the  case  of  the 
 centurion.  Matt.  viii.  5-10  ;  Luke  vii.  15.  Grant  that  the  two  cases  were 
 entirely  alike,  it  would  not  follow  that  there  had  been  an  intentional 
 invention.  But  the  dissimikrity  of  the  two  is  greater  than  their  similarity. 
 In  both  cases,  indeed,  the  message  is,  that  Christ  7u:cd  not  come;  but  the 
 reason  assigned  in  tlie  one  is,  that  he  can  help  without  coming,  and  in  the 
 other,  that  it  is  too  late  for  him  to  help  at  all.  Wiiai,  then,  is  unlikely  in 
 either  ?  especially  as  Luke's  statements,  derived  from  eye-wtnesses,  are 
 full,  while  those  of  Matthew  are  abridged  reports. 
 
JAIKUS'S  DAUGHTER.  211 
 
 and  to  make  this  a  ground  of  consolation ;  as  if  he  had  said, 
 "she  is  only  in  a  trance  resembling  sleep."  But  they  were 
 equally  appropriate,  if,  "svithout  any  reference  to  natural 
 symptoms  and  consequences,  he  meant  only  to  say  that  tliis 
 condition  would  be,  for  lier,  only  sleep,  as  he  Avas  able  to  raise 
 her  out  of  it.  The  character  in  which  Christ  acted,  as  well  as 
 the  whole  connexion  of  the  narrative,  compel  the  conclusion 
 that  he  spoke  with  reference  to  the  result  rather  than  to  the 
 nature  of  the  condition  in  which  the  maiden  lay ;  even  though 
 the  circumstances  might  make  it  probable  that  this  conditioa 
 was  a  trance. 
 
 ["And  he  put  them  all  otti."]  In  stillness  must  such  a  work 
 be  wrought ! 
 
 When  the  noisy  mourners  were  gone,  and  he  was  alone  \nil\ 
 the  few  that  had  accompanied  him  into  the  chamber  of  death, 
 he  spoke  to  the  maiden  the  life-inspii-ing  words.  He  then 
 "  charged  them  to  tell  no  man  what  had  been  done."  It  has 
 been  said  that  he  did  this  to  prevent  theu'gi\Tng  him  the^a^^e 
 reputation  of  having  done  a  miracle  in  the  case  ;  false,  because 
 he  had  restored  the  maiden,  in  an  entii-ely  natural  way,  from  a 
 death  that  was  only  apparent.  Had  this  been  the  case,  he 
 certainly  would  have  explained  liimself  more  definitely.  He 
 would  have  told  them,  in  that  case,  how  to  report  the  matter ; 
 not  that  they  should  not  report  it  at  all.  But  he  coiild  not 
 have  wished  that  the  event  should  be  otherwise  regarded  than 
 as  a  work  of  Divine  power ;  and  the  prohibition  was  doubtless 
 made  in  view  of  cii'cumstances,  especially  in  -view  of  the  dispo- 
 sitions of  the  people. 
 
 To  this  period  of  Christ's  ministry,  probably,  belongs  also  a 
 miracle  akin  to  the  raisins;  of  Jairus's  daucrhter,  which  is 
 reported  only  by  Luke.^ 
 
 On  a  journey,  accompanied  by  his  disciples,  and  by  many 
 others  who  had  joined  hun  on  the  road,  he  arrives  before  the 
 little  town  of  Nain,'^  in  the  vicinity  of  Mount  Tabor,  and  not 
 far  from  the  well-known  Endor.  Near  the  gate  he  meets  a 
 funeral  procession ;  and  in  the  sad  line  a  widow,  mourning  for 
 her  only  son.     In  compassion  "^  to  her  grief,  he  exclaims,  "  Weep 
 
 ^  Luke  vii.  11. 
 
 '  Now  a  little  village,  Nein,  inhabited  by  a  few  femilies. — Robinson,  iii. 
 460  [Am.  ed.  iii.  218,  22C]. 
 
 ■^  Olshamen  thinks  that,  although  Christ  only  made  his  compassion  for 
 the  motlw  prominent  in  this  miracle,  he  still  had  regard  to  the  salvation 
 of  the  son;  for,  as  he  well  remarks,  the  life  of  one  human  being  cannot  be 
 used  merely  as  means  for  another's  peace  or  welfare.     But,  although  we 
 
 p2 
 
212  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 not."  Had  he  not  been  conscious  of  poAver  to  remove  the 
 cause  of  grief,  by  giving  back  her  son,  he  would  have  tried  to 
 soothe  her  sorrow,  instead  of  exciting  a  vain  hope,  only  to 
 ])lunge  her  deeper  into  anguish. 
 
 §  135. — Doubts  of  John  the  Baptist  In  his  Imprisonment.' — Jlis  Message  to 
 Christ,  and  iUs  Result.— -Christ's  Testimony  conciruinr/  Him. — His  view 
 of  the  relation  between  the  Old  and  New  Dispensations. 
 
 John  the  Baptist  had  now  languished  in  prison  for  several 
 months  in  the  fortress  Machoerus.  He  was  not  wholly  inter- 
 dicted from  intercourse  with  his  disciples  ;  for  the  fear  of  poli- 
 tical disturbance  from  him  Avas,  as  we  have  soen,*^  the  ostensible, 
 not  tlie  real,  reason  of  his  imprisonment. 
 
 In  the  testimony  which  he  gave  to  Chi'ist,  just  before  his 
 imprisonment,?  he  had  declared  his  expectation  that  he  would 
 soon  be  obscured  by  the  public  manifestation  of  Jesus  as 
 Messiah,  and  by  liis  recognition  at  the  hands  of  the  worthy 
 members  of  the  Theocratic  nation.  What  he  heard  in  prison 
 of  Christ's  mighty  works  only  made  him  look  more  unpatiently 
 for  the  foimding  of  his  A-isible  Messianic  kingdom.  The  delay 
 of  this  event  might  A'ery  naturally  cause  doubts  to  spring  up  in 
 his  miud.''  But,  as  liis  faith  in  the  Divine  calling  of  Jesus 
 remained  unshaken,  he  looked  for  a  definite  decision  of  the 
 question  from  his  OAvn  Ups,  and  sent  two  of  hi.s  disciples  with 
 the  inquiry,  "Art  thou  He  that  s/iould  conie,  oi'  do  tve  look  /or 
 another  /"' 
 
 In  this  reply  Christ  gives  them,  as  proof  of  Ids  I\Iessiahship, 
 the  miracles  that  he  had  wrought,  both  upon  matter  and  spirit.J 
 
 cannot  decide  that  Christ  had  reference  at  the  time  to  tl>e  manner  in  which 
 the  youth's  resurrection  would  tend  to  his  personal  welfare,  lie  must  liave 
 lieen  satisfied  that,  in  the  wisdom  of  GoD,  it  was  destined  to  secure  it.  As 
 the  organ  of  GoD,  he  must  liave  been  conscious  of  a  harmony  between — 
 not  merely  his  whole  manifestation,  but  also — all  his  individual  actions 
 and  the  Divine  jilan  for  the  government  of  the  world.  A  physician  may 
 .save  a  man's  life  by  natural  means  without  knowing,  at  the  time,  what 
 use  the  man  will  make.of  it :  but.  if  he  is  a  believer,  he  must  l)e  satisfied 
 that  God  would  not  allow  it,  if  the  re.ntoration  were  not  for  the  best,  in 
 regard  to  his  individual  well-l)eing.  The  same  relation  would  subsist  if 
 the  means  emploved  were  supernatural. 
 
 '  Matt.  xi.  2-15 ;  Luke  vii.  19-30.  '  Cf.  p.  190. 
 
 B  Cf.  p.  190.  ^  Cf.  p.  60. 
 
 '  We  have  before  shown  that  this  presupposes  rather  than  contradicts 
 the  previous  bapti.sm  and  recognition  of  Jesus  by  the  Baptist.  It  illus- 
 trates, however,  the  method  in  which  the  synoptical  Gos]>els  were  com- 
 piled :  the  author  of  this  statement,  if  he  had  knowni  of  that  previous 
 recognition,  coidd  hardly  have  failed  to  notice  it. 
 
 J  It  by  no  means  follows,  from   the  narrative,  that  Chri.st  wrought  all 
 
JOHN  THE  BAPTIST.  213 
 
 He  first  combines  the  two  classes,  applying  the  material  as  a 
 tj'j)e  or  image  of  the  spiritual ;  and  then  makes  the  spiritual 
 esj)ecially  prominent.  ''  The  blind  receive  tlieir  sight "  (both 
 physical  and  spiritual),  "  the  lame  walk^  tlie  lepers  are  cleansed, 
 the  deaf  liear,  the  dead  are  raised}  tlte  poor  liave  the  Gospel- 
 preac}i£d  unto  tJiem."'^ 
 
 Thus  he  presents  himself  as  the  Messiah,  selecting  the  sphere 
 of  his  labours  among  the  poor  in  goods  and  in  spirit,  displaying 
 his  relieving  and  redeeming  power  to  those  who  feel  their  need 
 of  it ;  the  self-revealing,  yet  self-concealing  Messiah,  who  does 
 not  offer  himself  as  Theocratic  king  \'isibly  before  men's  senses, 
 a.s  the  Jews  expectetl — an  expectation  which  perplexed  even 
 the  Baptist's  own  mind.  And,  therefore,  he  closes  with  the 
 pregnant  words  of  warning,  ''And  blessed  is  lie  wliosoever  sluxll 
 'not  be  offended  in  me.''  (Happy  is  he  who  is  satisfied,  by  these 
 signs,  to  admit  my  Messiahship,  and  who  is  not  offended 
 because  it  does  not  precisely  meet  his  expectations.) 
 
 After  the  disciples  of  John  had  departed,  Je.sus  said  to  the 
 multitude  aroimd  him,  "What  went  ye  oid  into  the  wilderness^ to 
 see?  A  reed  shaken  with  the  tvind  on  the  shore  of  Jordan?" 
 To  see  a  fickL;,  changeful  man,  the  sport  of  outward  influences  ? 
 (He  thus  intends  to  represent  John  as  a  prophet,  faitliful  and 
 true  to  his  convictions,  and  to  vindicate  lum  from  any  charge 
 of  instability  on  the  gTOund  that  this  question,  sent  by  his 
 disciples,  was  in  conflict  with  his  earlier  testimonies.)     '•  But 
 
 these  miracles  in  presence  of  John's  messengers.  They  could  hear  of  them 
 anywhere,  and  see  their  effects.  Nor  is  a  chronological  connexion  between 
 tile  resurrection  of  the  widow's  son  and  this  message  of  John's  to  be 
 inferred  from  the  juxtaposition  in  which  Luke  places  them  ;  he  may  have 
 been  led  to  this  by  Christ's  mention  of  "the  raising  of  the  dead." 
 
 ^  There  is  an  obvious  allusion  here  to  Isa.  xxxv.  5  ;  Ixi.  1  ;  yet  it  is 
 not  absolutely  necessary  so  to  consider  it.  Nor  are  we  bound  to  square 
 the  words  of  Christ  by  the  quotation,  and  to  infer  that  all  which  deviates 
 from  it  has  been  added  l)y  another  hand.  A  close  connexion  is  obvious  in 
 the  text. 
 
 '  This  is  to  be  understood  especially  of  spiritual  death  and  resurrection, 
 a  sense  which  joins  better  to  the  following  clause,  since  it  is  precisely  by 
 the  "  preaching  of  the  Gosj)el "  that  the  spiritually  dead  are  raised. 
 
 '"  The  word  "  poor"  may  be  taken  in  the  spiritual  as  well  as  the  natural 
 sense  here  ;  both,  indeed,  are  connected,  as  it  is  among  the  poor  in  worldly 
 goods  that  most  of  the  spiritually  poor  are  to  be  found,  i.  e.  such  as  feel 
 their  inward  wants  and  crave  a  supply  for  them. 
 
 "  It  is  possible  that  these  words  had  no  higher  meaning,  and  were  only 
 used  to  impress  the  single  thought  negatively,  thus  :  '•  Ye  must  have  gone 
 to  the  mldcmess  to  seek  something  more  than  the  wililerness  itself  could 
 afford  to  you."  But  as  all  that  follows  refers  antithetically  to  John,  we 
 infer  that  these  words  also  had  such  a  reference. 
 
214  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 perhaps  ye  went  out  to  see  a  man  in  soft  and  splendid  garments  1 
 Such  men  ye  find  not  in  deserts,  but  in  the  palaces  of  kings." 
 A  striking  contrast  between  the  preacher  of  repentance,  the 
 austere  censor  of  morals,  and  the  luxurious  courtiers  who  wait 
 upon  the  smiles  of  princes." 
 
 After  these  negative  traits,  Chi-ist  designates  the  stand- 
 point of  John  positively.  He  calls  him  a  "prophet,"  and 
 "  more  than  a  prophet,"  and  points  liim  out  as  the  Forerunner, 
 the  preacher  of  repentance  predicted  in  Malachi  (iii.  1),  who 
 was  to  go  before,  in  the  spirit  of  Elias,  and  prepare  the  way  for 
 the  Messiah.  He  declares  that  none,  in  all  time  before,  had 
 held  a  higher  position  in  the  development  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God  than  John  ;  that  none  had  enjoyed  a  liigher  degree  of 
 religious  illumination.P  Yet,  said  he,  the  least  in  the  mani- 
 fested kingdom  of  God  (i.  e.,  in  the  Church  founded  by  Christ 
 as  Redeemer),  the  least  among  truly  enlightened  Christians  is 
 gi'eater  than  John. 
 
 These  words  have  a  double  importance,  as  they  define  not 
 only  Christ's  view  of  the  stand-point  of  John  the  Baptist,  but 
 also  of  the  Old  Dispensation  in  general,  in  regard  to  Chris- 
 tianity. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  first,  we  must  distinguish  whei'ein  John 
 was  beliind  Christianity,  and  wherein  he  towered  above  the 
 prophets.  He  was  behind  Christianity,  because  he  was  yet 
 prejudiced  by  his  conception  of  the  Theocracy  as  external; 
 because  he  did  not  clearly  know  that  Messiah  was  to  found  his 
 kingdom  by  sufferings,  and  not  by  miracidously  triiimphing 
 over  his  foes ;  because  he  did  not  conceive  that  this  kingdom 
 was  to  show  itself  from  the  first,  not  in  visible  appearing,  but 
 as  a  Divine  power,  to  develop  itself  spiritually  from  -within 
 
 "  Unless  the  words  have  this  meaning,  they  appear  to  have  none  ;  with 
 it,  they  imply  that  John's  conduct  had  given  occasion  for  such  compari- 
 sons :  and  perhaps  this  may  have  contributed  to  his  imprisonment. 
 
 P  We  cannot,  in  Matt.  xi.  11,  supply  TrpoipiiTrjQ  after  fiii'C^^v  ;  the  last 
 clause  of  the  verse  forbids  it.  It  probably  was  not  in  Christ's  original 
 words  ;  and  if  it  be  not  a  gloss  in  Luke  (vii.  2S),  it  is  only  an  explanatory 
 addition  in  the  statement  itself  The  "superiority"  does  not  refer  to 
 subjective  moral  worth,  in  which,  certainly,  Christ  could  not  intend  to 
 place  the  "  least "  in  the  Christian  Church  above  this  man  of  God  ;  but 
 refers  to  advantages  for  apprehending  the  nature  and  progress  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  the  greatest  of  the  old,  pre- 
 paratory stage  were  less  than  the  least  of  the  new.  Since  the  propheti, 
 who  form  the  point  of  transition  between  the  two  disjiensations,  occupied 
 tlie  highest  stand-point  in  the  religious  development  of  antiquity,  the  senso 
 of  the  passage  is  the  same,  with  or  without  the  word  irpo(j>i)-t]Q. 
 
THE  EASY  YOICE.  215 
 
 outward,  and  thus  gradually  to  overcome  and  take  possession 
 of  the  -world.  The  least  among  those  who  understand  the 
 natm-e  and  process  of  development  of  the  Divine  kingdom,  in 
 connexion  with  Cluist's  redemption,  is  in  this  respect  greater 
 than  the  Baptist,  who  stood  upon  the  dividing  hne  of  the  two 
 spiritual  eras.  But  John  was  above  the  prophets  (and  Christ 
 so  declared),  because  he  conceived  of  the  Messiah  and  his 
 kingdom  in  a  higher  and  more  spiritual  sense  than  they  had 
 done,  and  because  he  directly  pointed  men  to  Clmst,  and  re- 
 cognized Him  as  the  manifested  Messiah. 
 
 In  regard  to  the  second,  viz.,  the  relation  of  the  Old  Dispen- 
 sation in  general  to  Chrietianity,  the  fact  that  Christ  places  the 
 Baptist  above  the  prophets,  who  were  the  very  culminating 
 point  of  the  Old  Covenant,  and  yet  so  far  heloio  the  members 
 of  the  new  development  of  the  kingdom,  exhibits  in  the  most 
 striking  way  possible  his  view  of  the  distance  between  the  old 
 preparatory  Testament  and  the  New.  The  authority  of  Christ 
 himself,  therefore,  is  contradicted  by  those  who  expect  to  find 
 the  tnith  revealed  by  hivi,  already  developed  in  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment. If  in  John  we  are  to  distinguish  the  fundamental  truth 
 which  he  held,  and  which  pointed  to  the  New  Testament,  from 
 the  limited  and  sensuous  form  in  which  he  held  it,  much  more, 
 according  to  Christ's  words,  are  we  bound  to  do  this  in  the 
 Old  Testament  generally,  and  in  its  Messianic  elements  espe- 
 cially. Following  this  intimation,  we  must,  in  studying  the 
 prophets,  discriminate  the  liistorical  from  the  ideal  sense,  the 
 conscious  fi'om  the  unconscious  prophecies. 
 
 The  testimony  which  Christ  added  in  regard  to  the  effects 
 of  John's  laboiu's  corresponds  precisely  with  the  above  view  of 
 his  stand-point.  "  From  tlie  days  of  John  the  Baptist  until  noiol 
 the  kingdom  of  heaven  sttffereth  violence,  and  the  violent  take  it  by 
 force.'" ^     (That  is,  "  the  longing  for  the  kingdom,  excited  by 
 
 1  These  words  (Matt.  xi.  12)  obviously  presuppose  that  John's  labours 
 had  ceased,  and,  of  course,  that  he  had  lost  liis  liberty.  This  is  enough 
 to  refute  the  hypothesis  of  Schleiet-macher,  that  he  sent  the  message  hefiyre 
 his  imprisonment.  The  whole  tenor  of  the  passage  implies  that  John's 
 era  was  at  an  end.  It  has  also  been  inferred  from  the  wortls  aTro  tCjv 
 t'ificpwi'  'lioai'vov,  that  the  passage  was  a  later  interpolation,  improperly 
 put  into  Christ's  mouth.  If  this  were  true,  it  would  only  affect  the  form, 
 not  the  substance  of  the  passage,  and  we  should  have  to  follow  Luke  xvi. 
 16  (where,  however,  the  words  are  obviously  out  of  place).  But  it  is  not 
 true. 
 
 ■■  These  words  are  expressly  chosen  to  denote  the  earnest  will,  the 
 struggle,  and  the  entire  devotion  of  soul  which  are  requisite  to  enter  into 
 the  kingdom  of  heaven.     All  the  powers  of  the  spirit,  ita  submission,  its 
 
216  FIllST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 John's  preaching,  has  spread  among  men  ;  they  press  forward, 
 stri^•ing  to  secure  it,  and  those  who  strive  with  then-  whole 
 souls  obtain  a  shai-e  in  it.'")  "  And  if  ye  v^iU  receive  it,  this  iV 
 Elias,  lohich  vxis  for  to  come.''  (John  is  the  Elias  who  was  to 
 come  to  prejiare  the  way  for  Messiah — if  you  will  only  under- 
 stand it — spiritually,  not  corporeally.) 
 
 §  136. — Christ  shows  the  Itelation  of  his  Contemporaries  to  the  Baptist  and 
 to  Himself^ — Tlie  Easy  Yol-c  and  tloe  Light  Burden.— Jewish  Legalism 
 contrasted  icith  Christian  Lihei-ty. 
 
 The  discoiu-.sc  which  Christ  continued  to  the  groups  around 
 Mm  is  especially  important,  as  unfolding  the  I'elation  in  which 
 he  stood  to  the  Jews. 
 
 •'•  They  are  like  children  sitting  in  the  market-place,  and  saying. 
 We  have  jnped  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced ;  we  have 
 mourned  unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  xoeptr  The  merry  music 
 and  the  mournful  are  alike  displeasing ;  they  will  neither 
 dance  nor  be  sad.  So  it  was  \\'ith  John  and  the  Son  of  Man 
 on  the  one  hand,  to  the  people  of  that  time  on  the  other.  The 
 ascetic  of  the  desert,  preacliing  repentance  ^\^th  fasting  and 
 austerity,  was  laughed  at  as  a  madman ;  the  Son  of  Man, 
 mingling  in  the  intercourse  of  men,  and  sharing  in  their  hvmian 
 joys,  was  "  a  glutton  and  a  tdne-bibher."  Yet  "  Wisdom  was 
 jusdjied  of  her  children,'"  was  recognized  by  those  who  really 
 belonged  to  her.  (Wliile  the  multitude,  sunk  in  worldly- 
 mindeduess  and  self-conceit,  and  deaf  to  the  voice  of  Divme 
 wisdom,  took  oftence,  for  opposite  reasons,  at  both  these  mes- 
 sengers of  God,  the  humble  and  susceptible  disciples  of  <;he 
 wisdom  of  God,  on  the  other  hand,  could  understand  the  dif- 
 ferent stand-points  of  John  and  Jesus,  and  appreciate  the 
 reasons  for  their  different  modes  of  life  and  action.) 
 
 The  discourse  concluded  with  an  exhortation  to  the  gathered 
 multitude,  in  which  Christ,  with  the  greatest  tenderness,  in- 
 ^■ited  the  susceptible  souls  among  them  (the  children  of 
 Wisdom)  to  ^'conie  unto  him,"^  and  find,  in  his  fellowshij*,  a 
 
 efforts,  are  necessary  at  all  times,  to  secure  the  kingdom  amid  the  reactions 
 of  tlie  natural  man,  the  carnal  mind,  its  selfishness,  its  worldliness  of 
 spirit ;  but  at  that  time  it  was  especially  the  worldly  notions  of  the  Mes- 
 siahship  that  had  to  he  strug^ded  against.  The  nature  of  the  case  shows 
 that  ftia^itv  is  to  be  thus  figuratively  taken  :  the  usus  toquatdi  does  not 
 contradict  it ;  and  it  suits  the  natural  coimexiou  of  the  passage. 
 
 •  Matt.  xi.  17. 
 
 •  Tiiese  incomparable  words,  preserved  for  us  by  Matthew  alone 
 (xi.  28-30),  fitly  conclude  the  discourse  ;  the  interposed  passage  (20-27) 
 was  probably  tiiken  from  some  other  of  Christ's  addresses  by  the  editor  of 
 
THE  EASY  YOKE.  217 
 
 supply  foi'  all  their  wants.  He  contrasts  himself,  as  the 
 Redeemer  of  "heavy-laden"  souk,  -vvith  the  I'igicl  teachei's  of 
 the  law,  who,  while  they  burdened  men's  consciences  with  theii- 
 multiplied  statutes,  imparted  no  jjower  to  perform  them,  and 
 repelled,  in  haughtiness,  the  conscience-stricken  sinner,  instead 
 of  affording  him  peace  and  consolation.  The  contriist,  perhaps, 
 was  intended  to  ai)ply  not  only  to  the  Pharisees,  but  to  the 
 Baptist,  who  also  occupied  the  stand-point  of  the  law. 
 
 Tlie  "  friend  of  publicans  and  smners  ''  thus  in^-ites  all  who 
 feel  their  wretchedness  to  enter  liis  communion ;  and  announces 
 himself  as  the  "meek  and  lowly"  one,  repelling  none  because 
 of  their  misery,  condescending  to  the  necessities  of  all,  taking 
 off  the  load  from  the  weary  soul  instead  of  im2:)osLng  ne\\ 
 l>ui-dens,  and  gi^'ing  them  joy  and  rest  in  his  fellowship.  He 
 makes  no  extravagant,  impracticable  demands.  Obedience, 
 indeed  ("  the  easy  yoJce "),  he  does  rcquii-c  ;  but  an  obedience 
 which  (although  it  embraces  more  than  the  righteousness  of  the 
 law)  is  easy  and  pleasant,  flowing  spontaneously  from  the 
 Divine  life  Avdthin,  and  rendered  in  the  spirit  of  love.  '■  Come 
 xmto  me  (says  he),  all  ye  that  laboiu*  and  are  heavy  laden  (all 
 that  sigh  under  the  legal  yoke  and  the  sense  of  sin,  like  the 
 '  pow  in  spirit '  of  the  Sei'mon  on  the  Mount),  and  I  Avill  free 
 you  from  your  burdens,  and  give  you  the  peace  for  which  j'ou 
 sigh.  Enter  the  fellowship  of  my  cUsciples,  and  you  svi^l  find 
 me  no  hard  master,  but  a  kind  and  gentle  one  ;  you  shall 
 obtain  rest  for  your  souls,  for  my  yoke  is  mild,  and  the  burden 
 wliich  I  shall  lay  upon  you  light."" 
 
 Om-  inference,  from  Christ's  own  words,  in  respect  to  the 
 relation  in  which  he  stood  at  that  time  to  the  Jevvish  people, 
 is :  That  the  viajorit?/  of  them  were  dissatisfied  with  him,  as 
 they  had  before  been  \nth.  the  Baptist  ;  but  that  a  smaller 
 niimber  of  those  who  had  recognized  the  Divine  calling  of  John, 
 acknowledged  also  that  of  Christ,  and  passed  over,  in  sub- 
 mission to  the  guidance  of  Divine  ■\\'isdom,  from  the  foinncr  to 
 the  latter. 
 
 It  is  clear  that  a  strong  oitposition  was  already  formed 
 against  Christ,  and  the  chief  point  on  which  it  supported  itself 
 was  precisely  that  which  distinguished  the  stand-point  of  the 
 
 our  Matthew  (see  hereafter),  and  placed  here  because  of  iU  affinity  to  the 
 context. 
 
 "  Here  is  the  germ  of  P.aul's  entire  doctrine,  not  only  of  tl>e  contrast 
 lietsveen  law  and  Gospel,  but  also  of  tlie  Gospel  itself  as  a  vofinc  TriffTewc, 
 
 TTPiVfiaTOC. 
 
218  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Saviour  from  that  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  also  from  the 
 peciiliar  one  of  John  the  Baptist.  It  was  the  spirit  of  liberty 
 with  which,  in  Christianity,  the  Divine  life  takes  hold  of  and 
 appropriates  to  itself  the  relations  of  the  world  and  society,  in 
 contrast  with  the  spirit  of  ascetic  opposition  to  the  world. 
 The  Jews  coiild  see  nothing  of  the  holy  prophet  in  a  man  who 
 shared  with  his  disciples  in  the  pleasures  of  social  Kfe,  and 
 sanctified  them  by  his  presence ;  in  a  man  who  did  not  hesitate 
 to  partake  of  the  entertainments  of  publicans  and  smners. 
 Striking,  indeed,  must  have  been  the  contrast  between  the 
 comparatively  unrestrained  mode  of  Hfe  adopted  by  Christ's 
 disciples,  and  the  austere  asceticism  of  the  pupils  whom  the 
 Baptist  was  training  to  be  preachers  of  repentance,  or  of  the 
 neophytes  of  the  Pharisaic  schools.  No  schools  of  spiritual  life, 
 indeed,  before  that  time,  had  trained  their  pupUs  as  Chi-ist  did 
 his.     We  can  easily  imagine  the  amazement  of  the  Phai-isees  ! 
 
 §  137. — ChAst's  Conversation  u-ith  the  Pharisees  in  regard  to  the  Mode  of 
 Life  indulged  hy  his  Disciples.'' — TJie  Morality  of  Fasting. 
 
 It  is  not  strange,  therefore,  that  on  a  certain  occasion  the 
 Pharisees  came  to  Christ,  and  expressed  their  surprise  at  the 
 free  and  .social  mode  of  life  in  which  he  indulged  his  disciples. 
 They  did  not  confine  their  appeal  to  the  example  of  their  own 
 school,  but  intentionally  added  that  of  the  Baptist's  disciples, 
 believing  that  the  latter  would  be  the  more  to  their  purpose, 
 as  Christ  had  recognized  John  for  an  enlightened  teacher. 
 
 It  may  be  asked  whether  the  Pharisees,  in  puttuig  this 
 question,  sought  only  for  instnxction,  and  wished  to  obtain  from 
 Christ  himself  the  principles  on  which  a  course  so  inexplicable 
 to  them  was  founded,  or  whether  they  meant  to  reproach  him 
 personally  for  sitting  at  the  banquets  of  publicans  and  sinners, 
 and  only  made  use  of  their  question  about  the  disciples  for  a 
 crafty  blind  to  their  attack  1  The  gentle  and  instructive  tone 
 of  Christ's  reply  seems  (although  it  certainly  is  not  proof)  to 
 favoTH'  the  first  view.^  Would  he  have  said  so  much  to  justify 
 his  conduct  without  a  word  in  reproof  of  their  question,  if  he 
 
 »  Matt.  ix.  11-17  ;  Mark  ii.  15-22  ;  Luke  v.  33-39. 
 
 "  The  collocation  of  Luke  v.  33  and  34,  if  it  be  the  original  chronolo^cal 
 order,  opposes  this  view.  In  that  case,  after  Christ  had  cau.sed  the  ques- 
 tion of  the  Pliarisees  to  recoil  upon  themselves,  they  returned  witli  it  in  a 
 more  concealed  form.  But  it  is  probahle  [that  different  cliisses  of  Thari- 
 sees  were  concerned  in  the  two  cases],  and  that,  this  distinction  being  lost 
 .sight  of,  the  occurrence  in  question  was  connected  with  one  of  the  real 
 machinations  of  that  p.arty  in  general  against  Christ. 
 
FASTING.  219 
 
 had  to  deal  with  crafty  opponents,  utterly  unsusceptible  of  in- 
 struction 1^ 
 
 Be  that  as  it  may,  some  of  them  came  to  him  with  the 
 question,  "  Why  do  tlte  disciples  of  John  fast  often,  and  make 
 prayers,^  and  likewise  those  of  the  Pharisees;  but  thine  eat  and 
 drink?"  Christ  replies:  "Can  you  make  the  companions  of 
 the  bridegroom  fast  while  the  bi-idegroom  is  yet  with  them  1 
 Does  fasting  harmonize  -with  the  festal  joy  of  a  wedding  ?  The 
 time  of  fasting,  indeed,  will  come  of  its  own  accord,  when  the 
 bridegroom  is  gone,  and  the  festal  days  are  over." 
 
 So  privations,  suited  to  the  time  of  mourning,  would  have 
 been  out  of  keeping  -wdth  the  joyous  Ufe  in  common  of  the  dis- 
 ciples and  their  Lord — with  those  happy  days  when  the  object 
 of  their  desu-e  was  yet  present  in  their  midst.  Fasting  would 
 have  been  as  foreign  to  their  state  of  mind — as  outward  and 
 
 ^  We  follow  Luke  v.  33  ;  Mark  ii.  18,  wliich  have  more  internal  proba- 
 bility than  Matt.  ix.  14.  It  is,  indeed,  possible  that  those  disciples  of 
 John  who  adhered  only  one-sidedly  to  the  views  of  their  master  may  have 
 taken  oiFence,  and  expressed  it,  just  as  the  Pharisees  did.  Probably,  too, 
 at  a  later  period,  there  grew  up  a  gradual  opposition  between  the  Chris- 
 tians and  part  of  John's  disciples  ;  and  the  Jewish  sect  of  TiifiipoGairTirrrai 
 may  have  been  no  other  than  these  {Hegesipp.  in  Euseb.  iv.  22.  Cf  the 
 Clementines,  Hom.  ii.  23,  'lwavin]Q  ■t'lfiEpniaTrTiari'ig.)  But  it  is  by  no 
 means  as  probable  that  they  joined  themselves  with  the  Pharisees,  theu' 
 bitter  enemies ;  they  could  have  had  no  tendency  to  associate  with  men 
 whom  they  could  consider  as  having  had  a  hand,  at  lea.'^t,  in  the  sacrifice 
 of  their  master.  The  fact  that  the  scribes  had  quoted  the  example  of 
 John's  disciples  may  ea.sily  have  passed  into  the  report  that  the  latter  had 
 come  to  Christ  with  the  same  question.  This  view  is  adopted,  also,  by 
 Schleiermachcr.  De  Wttte's  objections  are  sufficiently  refuted  by  what  has 
 been  said. 
 
 y  De  Wettf  considers  the  mention  of  "  prayer "  (Luke  v.  33)  as  out  of 
 place,  and  argues  from  it  that  Luke  had  departed  from  the  original  tra- 
 dition. But  certainly  it  was  natural  enough  for  the  Fliarisees  thus  to 
 characterize  the  (to  them)  strikingly  worldlj'  life  of  the  disciples  ;  for  the 
 former  made  a  show  of  sanctity,  not  only  by  fasting,  but  by  repeated 
 prayers  ;  and,  moreover,  John  had  prescribed  a  form  of  prayer  for  hie 
 disciples  (Luke  xi.  1),  which  Christ  as  yet  had  not  done.  As  the  words 
 "eating  and  dTinhino"  are  used  in  the  question  to  designate  the  profane 
 and  carnal  life,  so  "fasting  and  prayer"  denote  its  opposite — the  strict 
 spiritual  life.  Now,  had  the  word  "prayers"  originally  existed  in  the 
 passage,  and  been  afterward  lost  in  transmission,  we  might  easily  account 
 for  it :  because  it  might  be  thought  that  Christ's  reply  does  not  allude  to 
 "prayer,"  that  such  a  depreciation  of  prayer  (mistakenly  imagined)  would 
 be  a  stumbling-block,  and,  besides,  contradictory  to  Christ's  own  teaching 
 in  other  places.  But  to  account  for  its  interpolation  is  quite  a  different 
 matter.  As  for  Christ's  not  alluding  to  prayer  in  his  reply,  he  had  no  call 
 to  do  it ;  it  was  the  spirit  of  outward  and  ascetic  piety,  as  a  whole,  that 
 he  rebukes. 
 
220  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 aa  forced — ^as  to  the  guests  at  a  wedding.  But  as  the  days  of 
 the  feast  are  followed  by  others  when  fasting  is  in  place ;  so, 
 when  the  joy  of  happy  intercourse  ^xath  Christ  shall  give  place 
 to  niouming  at  separation  from  Him  who  is  their  all  in  all,  in 
 those  sad  days,  indeed,  the  disciples  will  need  no  outward 
 Lidding  to  fast.  Then*  mode  of  life  will  naturally  change  with 
 theu'  state  of  feeling  ;  fasting  ^v'ill  then  be  but  the  spontaneous 
 token  of  their  souls'  grief 
 
 Taken  in  tliis  sense,  it  is  cleai*  that  the  words  could  not  have 
 been  intended  to  apply  to  the  u-hole  life  of  the  disciples  after 
 Christ  should  have  been  removed  from  them.  The  sad  feelings 
 here  described  were  not  intended  to  be  permanent ;  the  ti-an- 
 sitory  pain  of  personal  separation  was  to  be  followed  by  a  more 
 perfect  joy  in  the  conscioiasness  of  spiritual  communion  -with 
 Clu-ist.  Applying  the  passage,  then,  to  this  transition  period 
 of  grief,  we  infer  from  it,  as  the  rule  of  Cliristian  ethics  in  re- 
 gard to  fasting,  that  it  is  neither  enjoined  nor  recommended, 
 but  only  justified,  as  the  natural  expression  of  certain  states  of 
 feeling  analogous  to  tho.se  of  the  discijjles  in  the  time  of  sad- 
 ness refeiTed  to;  e.  g.  the  sense  of  separation  from  Christ, 
 which  may  j^recede  an  experience  of  the  most  blissfiil  com- 
 munion with  Him.  In  such  states  of  the  interior  life,  all  out- 
 ward signs  of  peace  and  joy,  all  jmrticipation  in  social  inter- 
 course and  ])leasure  are  unnatural  and  repugnant;  although, 
 when  Christ  is  present  in  the  soul,  these  social  joys  are  sancti- 
 fied and  traiLsfigiu-ed  by  the  inward  communion  with  Him. 
 The  interior  life  and  the  outward  expression  should  be  in 
 entire  hai-mony  with  each  other.  Another  glance  at  this  sub- 
 ject, however,  after  examining  what  follows,  will  afford  as 
 another  view  of  it. 
 
 §  lZ%.—Tlic  Parable  of  the  New  Patch  on  the  Old  Garment,  and  of  the 
 New  Wine  in  Old  Bottles.' 
 
 Christ  added  another  illustration  in  the  form  of  a  parable. 
 "aC^o  vian  jnitteth  a  ]necc  of  a  iiew  garment  vpoii  an  old;  if 
 oilierwise,  tlven  both  (lie  new  maketh  a  rent,  and  the  piece  that  was 
 taken  ont  of  the  nev)  agreeth  not  vrith  the  old.  And  no  vian 
 jnitteth  new  tvine  into  old  bottles  (.skins),  else  the  new  vniie  will 
 hurst  the  bottles  and  be  sj/illed,  and  the  bottles  shall  j)crish.  But 
 new  wine  mnst  he  jyut  into  new  bottles,  and  both  are  jrresen'ed.'' 
 
 The  old  nature  cannot  be  renewed  by  the  imposition  from 
 without  of  the  exercises  of  fisting  and  prayer ;  no  outward  and 
 compulsory  asceticism   can    change   it.     Individual  points  of 
 *  Matt.  ix.  10  ;  Mark  ii.  21  ;  Luke  v.  S6. 
 
NEW  WINE  IN  NEW  BOTTLES.  221 
 
 character  are  significant  only  so  far  as  they  are  connected  with 
 the  tendency  of  the  whole  Ufe ;  a  reformation  in  tJiese,  indeed, 
 may  be  enforced,  and  the  stamp  and  spirit  of  the  life  remain 
 imchanged.  A  fragment  of  the  higher  spiritual  life,  thus 
 broken  off  from  its  living  connexion  (destroyed  in  the  fi-acture), 
 and  forced  upon  the  nature  of  the  old  man,  woidd  not  really 
 improve  it ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  by  its  utter  want  of  adap- 
 tation, would  worsen  the  rent  in  the  old  nature — would  tear 
 it  nidely  away  from  its  natural  course  of  development.  A  mere 
 renewal  from  without  is  at  best  an  artificial,  hy[Jocritical  tiling. 
 The  new  cloth  is  torn,  and  a  patch  laid  upon  the  old  that  does 
 not  fit  it.     The  new  wine  is  lost,  and  the  old  skins  peri.sh.* 
 
 The  prematm-e  imposition,  therefore,  of  such  exercises  upon 
 the  disciples,  instead  of  develojiing  the  new  life  within  them, 
 would  have  hindered  it,  by  mutilating  and  cnj^phng  what  they 
 liad.'^     Separate  branches  of  the  spiritual  life,  apart  from  their 
 
 "  We  de^nate  from  the  ordinary  interpretation  of  this  parable.  Our 
 expla-nation  is  not  only  adapted  to  the  preceding  context  (Luke  v.  33-35), 
 but  also  tits  the  minute  details  of  tlie  comparison,  which  the  one  commonly 
 given  does  not.  According  to  the  latter,  the  substance  of  the  parable  is, 
 that  the  outward  religious  exercises  of  Judaism  are  not  adapted  to  the 
 higher  stage,  Christianity,  for  which  the  disciples  were  training.  But 
 Christ  admits  (verse  35)  that  fasting  may  be  a  good  thing  at  the  right 
 time  ;  which,  he  said,  had  not  then  come,  but  would  come.  Instead  of 
 taking  up  this  point,  and  imfolding  it  in  the  par.able  in  another  aspect,  as 
 one  might  exjject,  the  common  interpretation  introduces  a  new  and  entirely 
 tlifferent  thought,  viz.  that  such  exercises  were  unsuitable  (not  to  tlieir 
 condition  at  that  time,  but)  to  Christianity  at  any  time.  Again,  one  would 
 naturally  think,  from  v.  34,  35,  that  the  " 7u:w  wine"  and  the  "neic  cloth" 
 of  the  parable  were  intended  to  represent  the  fasting,  &c.  of  which  Christ 
 was  speaking,  viz.  that  fasting  which  tlie  Apostles  were  to  practise  at  a 
 later  period.  But  the  usual  interpretation,  on  the  other  hand,  supposes 
 fasting  to  be  something  defective  in  itself,  and  as  belonging  to  that  form  of 
 life  which  is  represented  by  the  "  old  garment."  The  sense  thus  obtained 
 contains  a  thought  not  true  in  itself ;  for,  in  the  ca.se  of  the  Apostles,  the 
 new  wine  of  Christianity  was  put  into  the  old  bottle  of  Judaism,  and  was 
 intended  to  bre.ak  it  to  pieces.  If  the  prescribed  fasting  was  to  be  disre- 
 garded by  the  Apostles  as  belonging  to  Jewish  legalism,  so  also,  on  the 
 same  principle,  the  u-lu)le  Jewish  legalism  would  have  to  be  done  away  by 
 them,  as  foreign  to  the  new  spirit  introduced  by  Christ. 
 
 It  is  remarkable  that  this  obviously  false  interpretation  should  have 
 kept  so  long  in  the  back-ground  the  true  one  develojied  by  Clmisvstom, 
 Horn,  in  Matt.  xxx.  {;  4.  Independently  of  my  exposition,  Wllhe  has 
 recently  declared  himself  (in  his  Uriran<i(Ustai)  in  favour  of  the  view  hero 
 given.  De  Wette  styles  it  "forced  ;"  but  how  the  term  can  apply  to  an 
 interpretation  so  accurately  fitting  the  details  of  the  parable,  I  cannot 
 imagine.  I  should  be  very  glad  to  see  the  attention  of  interpreters  directed 
 to  tlie  views  which  I  have  set  forth. 
 
 '■  ^iiiccrum  ast  nm  vat,  quodcunque  infundis,  acescit. 
 
223  FIRST  GENERAL  M12«ISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 connexion  with  the  whole,  cannot  be  grafted  npon  the  stem  of 
 the  old  natui'e ;  that  nature  must  be  renewed  from  within  in 
 order  to  become  a  vessel  of  the  Spirit.  (In  the  case  of  the 
 Apostles,  the  way  was  prepared  for  this  by  their  personal  in- 
 tercourse with  the  Sa^'iou^.)  The  idiole  gaiTuent  had  to  be 
 new ;  the  -wine  required  new  bottles.  The  new  Spirit  had  of 
 itself  to  create  a  new  fonn  of  Ufe. 
 
 Glancing  l)ack  from  this  point  to  the  words  before  spoken 
 on  fasting,  we  may  refer  them  to  the  privations  that  lay  before 
 the  Apostles  in  their  course  of  duty — privations  which  they 
 would  joyously  go  to  meet  under  the  impxdse  of  the  new  Spirit 
 that  was  to  animate  them. 
 
 But  although  no  outward  impulses  (no  patches  upon  the  old 
 gai-ment)  might  be  needed  when  the  interior  life  should  freely 
 guide,  it  might  yet  naturally  be  the  case  that  '^No  man,  Itaviufj 
 also  dratik  old  wine,  straighticay  desireth  new;  for,  he  saith,  the 
 old  is  better" •=  The  disciples  had  to  be  weaned  gradually  from 
 the  old  life  and  trained  for  the  new — a  law  applicable  in  all 
 ages  of  the  Church,  and  which,  if  faithfuUy  observed,  might 
 have  saved  her  from  many  eiTors  in  Chiistian  life  and  morals.'^ 
 
 This  example  affords  another  illustration  of  the  tnith  that 
 individual  parts  of  Chiist's  teaching  cannot  be  rightly  under- 
 stood apart  from  their  connexion  with  his  whole  system  of 
 truth. 
 
 §  139. — Forms  of  Pray o: — The  Lord's  Prayer ;  its  Occasion  and  Import.'^ — 
 Encouraf/evients  to  Prayer ;  God  gives  no  Stone  for  Bread. 
 
 We  take  up  now  a  subject  akin  to  that  of  which  we  have 
 just  treated,  without  inipl)ing  (what,  indeed,  is  of  no  import- 
 ance) a  chronological  connexion  between  them. 
 
 We  have  seen  that  one  tiling  which  surprised  the  PharLsees 
 was  that  Chiist  did  not  lay  stress  upon  outward  prayers.  He 
 had  not,  like  John  the  Baptist,  prescribed  forms  of  prayer  for 
 his  disciples.  In  this  respect,  as  well  i\s  others,  their  rehgious 
 life  was  to  develop  itself  from  ■within.  From  intercoui"se  with 
 Christ,  and  intuition  of  his  life,  they  were  to  Icam  how  to  pray. 
 The  mind  wliich  he  imparted  wa.s  to  make  prayer  indispensable 
 to  them,  and  to  teach  tliem  how  to  pray  aright. 
 
 On  a  certain  occasion,  the  desue  arose  in  tlieir  hearts,  from 
 
 =  It  is  a  proof  of  the  originality  and  faithfulness  of  Luke's  narrative, 
 tlmt  this  pasaage,  so  indubitably  stamped  with  originality,  and  yet  .so 
 closely  connected  with  the  context,  is  recorded  by  him  alone. 
 
 **  Pope  Innocent  III.  understood  and  applied  this  i>a.seage  correctly,  in 
 reference  to  the  establishment  of  a  mi.ssion  in  I'ru.ssia  :  "Cum  veteres 
 uteres  vii  novnm  vinum  contineant."     I^pp.  I.  xv.  14S.  '  Luke  xi. 
 
THE  lord's  prayer.  223 
 
 behukliug  liim  pray,  to  be  able  to  pray  as  he  did ;  and  one  of 
 them  asked,  "Lord,  teach  its  how  to  fray,  as  John  also  taught 
 his  disciples."^ 
 
 Christ  replied  that  they  were  not,  in  theii-  prayers,  to  use 
 "  many  words,"  and  to  repeat  details  to  God,  who  knew  all 
 their  wants  before  they  conld  be  uttered.  And  then,  in  a 
 prayer  framed  in  the  spirit  of  this  injunction,  he  gave  them  a 
 vi\'id  illustration  of  the  nature  of  Christian  pi-ayer,  as  referring 
 to  the  one  thing  needful,  and  incorporating  everything  else 
 with  that.  As  prayer  is  no  isolated  thing  in  Clu-istianity,  but 
 springs  from  the  ground  of  the  whole  spiritual  life,  so  this 
 prayer,  wliich  forms  a  complete  and  organic  whole,  compre- 
 hends within  itself  the  entu-e  peculiar  essence  of  Christianity. 
 
 "  Oicr  FatJier  who  art  in  Heaven.'' o  The  form  of  the  invo- 
 cation corresponds  to  the  nature  of  the  Christian  stand-point ; 
 our  Father,  because  Christ  has  made  us  his  children.  We 
 address  GoD  thus,  not  as  individuals,  but,  in  the  fellowship  of 
 Clirist,  a.s  members  of  a  community  which  He  has  placed  in 
 this  relation  to  the  common  Father.  Side  by  side  with  this 
 consciousness  of  communion  as  children,  goes  that  of  our  dis- 
 tance as  creatures  ;  the  God  that  dwells  in  his  cliildren  is  the 
 God  above  the  tooi'ld  (so  that  Christianity  is  equally  far  from 
 
 '  We  follow  Luke  xi.  The  passage  in  Matt.  vi.  7-16,  appears  foreign 
 to  the  original  organism  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  in  which  prayer, 
 fasting,  &c.  were  treated  especially  in  contrast  with  the  hypocrUy  of  the 
 Pharisees.  As  that  longer  discourse  was  made  a  repertory  for  Christ's 
 sayings,  in  which  they  were  arranged  according  to  their  affinities,  so  per- 
 haps it  was  with  this.  We  may  certainly  conclude  that  Christ  would  not 
 have  sketched  such  a  prayer  for  the  disciples  without  a  special  occasion  for 
 it ;  for  the  wish  to  lay  down  forms  of  prayer  was,  as  we  have  seen,  remote 
 from  his  spirit  and  object.  But  we  cannot  think  it  possible  [with  some] 
 that  Christ  uttered  this  prayer  as  appropriate  for  himself,  and  that  the 
 disciples  adopted  it  for  that  reason  ;  it  had  no  fitness  to  his  position  :  ^e, 
 at  leiist,  could  not  have  prayed  for  the  pardon  of  his  sins.  The  occasion 
 given  by  Luke  was  a  very  appropriate  one  ;  the  form  was  drawn  out  by 
 Christ  at  the  request  of  the  disciples.  It  was  probable,  moreover,  from 
 the  nature  of  the  case,  that  Christ,  who  did  not  wish  to  prescribe  standing 
 forms  of  prayer,  would  make  use  of  such  an  occasion  to  explain  further  the 
 nature  of  prayer  itself  [as  he  does  in  Luke  xi.  5-13].  In  the  Sermon  on 
 the  Mount,  also  (Matt.  vii.  7),  a  passage  similar  [to  Luke  xi.  9j  is  found  ; 
 and  Matt.  vi.  7,  perhaps  contains  the  beginning  of  Christ's  reply  to  his 
 disciples'  request  on  the  subject. 
 
 ff  In  the  shorter  form  of  the  prayer  given  in  Luke,  the  words  j//xwi'  and 
 u  f.v  To7^  ovpnvolc  are  omitted.  It  is  probable  that  the  original  form 
 of  the  prayer  is  that  given  by  Matthew.  Luke  is  more  accurate  in  giving 
 the  chronological  and  historical  connexion  of  Christ's  discourses,  but 
 Matthew  gives  the  discourses  themselves  more  in  full. 
 
224  FIRST  GEXERAL  MINISTRY  Ds  GALILEE. 
 
 Pantheism  and  Deism).  "Our  Father — in  heaven'' — that  the 
 soul  may  soar  in  prayer  from  earth  to  heaven,  with  the  living 
 and  abiding  consciousness  that  earth  and  heaven  are  no  more 
 kept  asunder.  To  this,  indeed,  the  substance  of  the  Avhoie 
 prayer  tends. 
 
 "  Ilalloiced  he  thy  name  ;  thy  kingdom  come  ;  thy  ny'dl  he  do'iie 
 on  earth  as  it  is  done  in  heaveii."  Wliile  the  Christian,  dwelUno' 
 on  earth,  tolceresin  reigns,  prays  to  the  Father  in  heaven,  he  longs 
 that  earth  may  be  completely  reconciled  to  heaven,  and  be- 
 come wholly  an  organ  of  its  revelations.  And  this  is  nothing 
 else  but  the  coming  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  to  which,  as  the 
 centi-e  of  all  Chiistian  Life,  and  the  object  of  all  Christian 
 desire,  the  three  positive  prayers  first  given  dii-ectly  refer. 
 The  special  prayer,  "  Thy  kingdom  come,"  is  guarded  against 
 the  possibly  carnal  and  worldly  interpretation  (to  which  the 
 disciples  were  at  that  time  incHned)  by  the  one  which  precedes 
 ("  Hallowed  be  thy  noAne"),  and  the  one  which  follows  ('•  Thy 
 will  be  done').  The  Holy  One  is  to  be  acknowledged  and 
 worshipped  by  all,  according  to  His  holy  nature  and  His  holy 
 name;''  not  by  a  nakedly  abstract  knowledge  and  confes.sion 
 thereof,  but  by  a  life  allied  to  Him.  This  "hallowing"  of  the 
 name  of  God  implies  the  "  coming  of  his  kingdom,"  and  tliis 
 last  is  further  developed  in  the  pi-ayer  that  "  his  Asdll  may  be 
 realized  on  earth,  as  it  is  in  the  communion  of  perfect  spirits." 
 The  kingdom  will  have  come  when  the  ■will  of  men  is  made 
 perfectly  at  one  with  the  will  of  God,  and  to  accomplish  tliis 
 is  the  very  aim  of  the  atonement.  Among  all  rational  intelli- 
 gences, the  one  common  essence  of  the  kingdom  of  God  is  the 
 doing  his  "vvill,  and  thus  hallowing  his  name. 
 
 "  Give  us,  day  by  day,  our  daily  bread.''''  The  positive  prayers 
 for  the  supply  of  Divine  wants  are  followed  by  one  (and  only 
 one)  for  the  supply  of  human  wants  ;  in  regard  to  wliich,  also, 
 the  disciple  of  Christ  must  cherish  an  abiding  consciousness  of 
 dependence  on  the  Heavenly  Father.  It  is  not  the  tendency 
 of  Chiistianity  to  stifle  or  suppjress  the  wants  of  our  earthly 
 natui-e,  but  to  halloAv  them  by  referring  them  to  God  ;  at  the 
 same  time  keeping  them  in  their  proper  sjjhere  of  subordination 
 to  the  higher  interests  of  the  soul. 
 
 ^  In  Hebrew  ami  Hellenistic  usiige,  the  name  expresses  the  outward 
 self-revelation  of  the  thing ;  the  image  of  the  thing,  as  such,  or  in  some 
 <lefined  relation.  Where  the  Occidentalist  would  use  the  idea,  the  Ori- 
 entalist, in  his  vividly  intuitive  language,  puts  tlie  name.  The  sense  tlien 
 is,  '■  God  is  to  be  hallowed  as  God,  the  common  Father." 
 
THE  lord's  prayer.  225 
 
 "  And  forgive  us  our  sins,Jor  we  also  forgive  every  one  that  is 
 iiukhted  to  us."  The  lirst  negative  prayers  correspond  to  the 
 tirst  positive  ones.  Conscious  of  a  manifold  sinfuhiess,  which, 
 80  long  as  it  remains,  hinders  the  full  development  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God  witlxin  them,  the  disciples  of  Chiist  pray  for 
 jbrgiveness  of  past  sins,  originating  in  the  reaction  of  the  old 
 evil  nature.  But  they  cannot  pray  for  this,  with  conscious 
 need  of  pardon,  without  a  disjiosition,  at  the  same  time,  to 
 foi-give  the  wrongs  which  others  have  done  to  themselves ; 
 unly  thus  can  their  prayer  be  sincere,  only  thus  can  they 
 expect  it  to  be  answered.  The  Christian's  constant  sense  of 
 the  need  of  God's  ptu'doning  grace  for  himself  necessarily  gives 
 tone  to  his  conduct  towards  his  fellows. 
 
 '^  Aiul  lead  iLS  not  into  temptation,  hid  deliver  us  from  eviU 
 The  prayer  for  pardon  of  past  sins  Ls  followed  by  one  for 
 deliverance  in  the  fiitiu'e.  The  word  "temptation"  has  a 
 twofold  meaning  in  Scripture,  expressing  either  oaMvarrd  trials 
 of  Chiistian  faith  and  Airtue,  or  an  inward  point  of  contact  for 
 outward  incitements,  caused  by  the  strife  of  the  sinful  prin- 
 ciple with  the  life  of  God  in  the  soul ;  and  the  question  may 
 be  asked,  wliicli  of  the  two — the  objective  or  subjective 
 temptation — is  referred  to  in  the  prayer.  Certainly  Christ 
 coidd  not  have  intended  that  liis  disciples  should  pray  for 
 exemption  from  external  conflicts  and  sufierings  ;  for  these  are 
 inseparable  from  the  calling  of  soldiers  of  the  kingdom  in  this 
 world,  and  essential  for  the  confirmation  of  Christian  faith  and 
 virtue,  and  for  cultiu'e  in  the  Christian  life ;  and  He  himself 
 told  them  that  such  trials  woidd  become  the  salt  of  their 
 interior  life.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  prayer  cannot  be 
 confined  to  piu'ely  subjective  temptations ;  for  Christ  coidd 
 not  have  presupposed  that  God  would  do  anything  so  contra- 
 dictory to  His  own  hoHne.ss  as  to  lead  men  into  temptation  in 
 litis  sense.  A  combination  of  the  two  appears  to  be  the  true 
 idea  of  the  prayer  :  "  Lead  us  not  into  such  situations  as  will 
 form  for  us,  in  our  weakness,  incitements  to  sin  ; "  thus  laying 
 it  down  as  a  rule  of  life  for  Christians  not  to  put  themselves, 
 self-confidently,  in  such  situations,  b;it  to  avoid  them  as  far  as 
 duty  will  allow.  But  everything  depends  upon  deliverance 
 from  the  internal  incitement  to  sin  ;  and  hence,  necessarily,  the 
 concluding  clause  of  the  petition,  "DeHver  ils  from  inward 
 temptation  by  the  power  of  the  Evil  One."  Confiding,  in  the 
 struggle  with  evil,  upon  the  power  of  God,  we  need  not  fear 
 .^aich  outward  temptations  as  are  unavoidable. 
 
 Q 
 
226  FIKST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Thus  the  prayer  accurately  defines  the  relation  of  the  Chiis- 
 tian  to  God.  The  disciple  of  Christ,  ever  called  to  struggle 
 against  evil,  which  finds  a  point  of  contact  in  his  inward 
 nature,  cannot  fight  this  battle  in  his  own  strength,  but  always 
 stands  in  need  of  the  assistance  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The 
 prayer  holds  the  fundamental  truths  of  Christian  faith  before 
 the  rehgious  consciousness,  in  their  essential  connexion  Avdth 
 each  other — God,  revealed  in  Chinst,  who  redeems  man,  formed 
 after  his  image,  yet  estranged  from  him  by  sin  ;  who  imparts 
 to  him  that  Di\dne  Life  which  is  to  be  led  on  by  him  to  its 
 consummation  through  manifold  strifes  against  the  Power  of 
 Evil. 
 
 It  appears,  therefore,  that  Christ  did  not  intend  by  "the 
 Lord's  Prayer"  to  prescribe  a  standing  form  of  pi"ayer  to  liis 
 disciples,  but  to  set  vividly  before  their  minds  the  peculiar 
 natiu'e  of  Christian  prayer,  in  opposition  to  heathen ;  and, 
 accordingly,  he  followed  it  up  by  urging  them  to  present  their 
 wants  to  their  Heavenly  Father  with  the  most  undoubting 
 confidence  (Luke  xi.  5-13).  By  a  comparison  drawn  from  the 
 ordinary  relations  of  life,  he  teaches  that  if  om*  prayers  should 
 not  appear  to  be  immediately  answei'ed,  we  must  only  i)erse- 
 vere  the  moi'e  earnestly  (v.  5-8)  ;  and  then  imj»resses  the 
 thought  that  God  cannot  deny  the  anxious  longings  of  his 
 children  (9,  10). 
 
 Here,  also,  the  internal  character  of  Christian  prayer  is 
 strongly  contrasted  with  the  pagan  outward  conception  of  the 
 exercise.  Even  the  "  seeking,"  the  longing  of  the  soul,  that 
 turns  with  a  deep  sense  of  need  to  God,  is  prayer  already ; 
 indeed,  there  is  no  Christian  prayer  without  such  a  feeling. 
 The  comparison  that  follows  {v.  11-13)  glances  (Uke  the 
 Lord's  Prayer)  from  the  relation  of  child  and  ])areut  on  earth 
 to  that  of  the  childi'en  of  God  to  their  Father  in  heaven — a 
 comparison  opj)osed,  in  the  highest  conceivable  degrees,  to  all 
 Pantheistical  and  Deistical  notions  of  the  relations  between 
 God  and  ci-eation.  "Jfa  son  shall  ask  bread  of  any  of  you  tJuU 
 is  a  father,  trill  he  give  him  a  stone  (in  shape  resembling  the 
 loaf)?  or,  if  lie  ask  a  fish,  will  lie  give  him  a  serpent  ?  or,  if  he 
 ask  an  egg,  irill  lie  offer  a  scorpion?  And  how  should  youi* 
 Hfavenly  Father,'  of  whose  perfect  love  all  human  afl'ection  is 
 but  a  darkened  image,  mock  the  necessities  of  his  children  by 
 withholding  from  theii-  longing  hearts  the  Holy  Ghost,  which 
 
 '  Tlie  word.s  "  Trar//;)  o  t£  oxipavov"  Luke  xi.  13,  plainly  point  to  the 
 invocation  in  the  Lord's  Prayer. 
 
THE  MAGDALEN.  227 
 
 alone  can  satisfy  the  hunger  of  their  spirits?"  Here,  again,  as 
 in  the  Lord's  Prayer,  the  main  objects  of  Christian  prayer  are 
 shown  to  be  spiritwxl ;  the  giving  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  one 
 chief  good  of  the  Christian,  includes  all  other  gifts.J 
 
 §  140. — Christ  f&rffives  the  Magdalen  at  the  House  of  Simon  the  Pharisee.^ — 
 The  reciprocal  action  of  Love  and  Faith  in  the  Forgiveness  of  Sins. 
 
 It  was  Christ's  free  mode  of  life  with  his  disciples,  his  inter- 
 course vnth.  classes  of  people  despised  by  the  Pharisees,  his 
 seeking  the  society  even  of  the  degraded,  in  order  to  save  them, 
 wliich  first  drew  upon  liim  the  assaults  of  that  haughty  and 
 conceited  sect. 
 
 On  one  occasion  he  was  invited  to  dine  with  one  of  the 
 Pharisees,  named  Simon,  a  man  certainly  incapable  of  appre- 
 ciating the  Saviour.  Either  from  his  natural  temper,  or  from 
 his  peculiar  disposition  towards  Christ,  he  gave  him  but  a  cool 
 reception.  While  the  SaA^iour  was  there,  a  woman  came  in 
 who  had  previously  led  a  notoriously  vicious  life,  but  who  now, 
 convinced  of  sin  and  groaning  under  it,  sought  consolation 
 from  Christ,  from  whom  she  had  doubtless  previously  received 
 DiATOie  impressions.  She  threw  herself  at  his  feet,  moistened 
 them  with  her  tears,  wiped  them  with  her  hair,  and  anointed 
 them  with  ointment.  With  what  power  must  He  have  at- 
 tracted the  biirdened  soul,  when  a  woman,  goaded  by  con- 
 science, could  come  to  him  with  so  sure  a  hope  of  obtaining 
 balm  for  her  woiuided  heart ! 
 
 The  Pharisee  was  astonished  that  He  should  have  anything 
 to  do  vvith  her.  "  Were  this  man,"  thought  he,  "  possessed  of 
 the  prophet's  glance,  piercing  the  thoughts  of  men,  he  could 
 not  be  so  deceived."  Christ,  noticing  lus  amazement,  gave  an 
 explanation  of  the  principle  on  which  he  acted,  that  must  have 
 shamed  and  humbled  Simon ;  contrasting  his  cold  hospitality 
 with  the  heartfelt  love  which  the  woman,  though  oppressed 
 with  grief  and  sin,  had  manifested  for  liim.  Looking  at  the 
 disposition  of  the  heart,  he  j^refers  the  woman — guilty,  indeed, 
 before,  but,  even  for  that  reason,  now  longing  the  more  ear- 
 nestly for  salvation,  and  penetrated  with  holy  love — to  the 
 cold,  haughty,  self-righteous  Pharisee,  who,  with  all  his  out- 
 ward show  of  observing  the  law,  was  destitute  of  quickening 
 love,  the  essential  piinciple  of  a  genuine  Divine  life.     "  Her 
 
 '  Cf.  the  indefinite  dyaOd,  in  Matt.  vii.  11,  generalized  from  the  Sofiara 
 dya9d  in  the  first  clause  of  the  verse.  Tlie  "Holy  Ghost"  ansrwers  defi- 
 nitely to  the  point  of  comparison — the  nourishment  of  the  soul,  as  bread 
 is  to  the  body.  ^  Luke  vii.  36,  se  i. 
 
 q2 
 
228  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE, 
 
 *i»s,"  said  lie,  "  ichich  ((re  riiany,  are  all  forgiven,  fiyr  she  loved 
 mtich  ;  but  to  whom  little  is  forgiven,  he  loveth  little.'^ 
 
 It  is  love,  according  to  Jesus,  which  gives  to  I'eligioii  and 
 morality  their  true  import.  The  faith  of  the  woman  proved 
 itself  genuine,  because  it  spi'ang  from,  and  begat  love  ;  the 
 love  from  the  faith,  the  faith  from  the  love.  Her  grief  for 
 her  sins  wa.s  founded  in  her  love  to  the  Holy  God,  to  whom, 
 conscious  of  her  estrangement,  she  now  felt  hei-self  drawni. 
 Her  desu-e  for  salvation  led  her  to  Jesus  ;  her  love  aided  her 
 in  finding  a  Sa\'iour  in  him  ;  Avith  warm  love  she  embi-aced 
 him  a-s  .such,  even  hefoi'e  he  pronounced  the  pardon  of  her  suis. 
 Therefore  Chri.st  said  of  her,  "  Her  many  sins  are  forgiven,  be- 
 cause .she  has  loved  much  :"  and  to  her,  "  Thy  faith  hath  saved 
 thee,  go  in  peace;"  thus  exhibiting  the  reciprocal  relations  of 
 the  two — the  faith  proving  itself  ti-ue  by  the  love.  The  Pha- 
 risee, Avhose  feelings  were  ossified,  bound  up  in  the  mechanism 
 of  the  outward  law,  was  especially  lacking  in  the  love  which 
 could  lead  to  faith  ;  and  therefore,  in  speaking  to  him,  the 
 woman's  love,  and  not  her  faith,  wa.s  made  prominent  by 
 Christ. 
 
 The  veiy  vices  of  the  woman  made  her  conviction  more 
 pi-ofound,  her  desii-e  for  salvation  more  ardent,  her  love  for 
 the  Redeemer,  who  pronounced  her  sins  forgiven,  more  deep 
 and  heartfelt.  But  she  had  not,  even  in  the  midst  of  her 
 transgressions,  been  further  removed  from  the  tnje,  inward 
 holiness  that  springs  from  the  Divine  life,  than  Avas  the  Pha- 
 risee in  his  best  estate.  He  sepai-ated  liimself  fi-om  God  as 
 effectually,  by  that  unfeeling  selfishness  which  often  coexists 
 Avith  what  is  called  morality,  and  with  a  conspicuous  sanctity 
 of  good  works,  as  if  he  had  yielded,  like  the  Avoman,  to  the 
 power  of  cA-il  passions.  He  was  none  the  better  because  his 
 colder  nature  offered  no  salient  points  for  such  temptations. 
 Christ's  standard  of  morality  was  different  fi'om  that  which 
 the  Avc>rld,  deceived  by  apjiearances,  is  wont  to  apply.  The 
 Phari.see  had  succeeded  in  avoiding  these  glaring  sins,  and  in 
 keeping  a  fair  show  of  obedience  to  the  law  ;  but  all  this  only 
 ]jropped  up  his  .self-deceiAing  egotism,  Avhich  dehghted  in  the 
 illusion  of  self-righteousness.  In  such  a  man,  the  sen.*^e  of 
 alienation  from  God,  the  consciousness  of  sin,  as  an  abyss 
 between  him  and  the  Holy  One,  without  which  there  can  be 
 no  ti-^ie  repentance,  could  find  no  place. 
 
 Nay,  the  abject  woman,  in  her  course  of  vice,  may  have  been 
 nearer  to  the  kingdom  than  the  haughty  and  self-righteous 
 
CALLING  OF  MATTHEW.  229 
 
 mau  ;  even  then,  there  may  have  been  a  spark  of  love,  stifled, 
 indeed,  by  sensuality,  but  still  existing  in  her  hcai-t,  which 
 needed  only  the  touch  of  a  higher  power  to  kindle  into  flame. 
 In  her  case,  wliat  was  in  itself  bad  may  have  l^een  a  means  of 
 good  ;  good,  however,  which  certainly  might  have  been  arrived 
 at  by  another  road.  The  pangs  of  repentance  made  her  sus- 
 ceptible of  Divdne  impressions,  the  Divine  love  that  met  her 
 kindled  the  spark  in  her  own  heart ;  and  she  rose,  by  the 
 living  faith  of  love,  above  the  Pharisee,  who,  in  his  arrogant 
 selfishness,  was  hardened  against  Divine  impressions,  and  did 
 not  recognize  the  love  of  God,  even  when  he  saw  it  mani- 
 fested.' 
 
 §  141. — Matthew  the  Publican  called  from  the  Custom-house — Familiar 
 Intercourse  of  Christ  with  the  Publicans  at  the  Banquet. — 2'he  Pharisees 
 blame  the  Disciples,  and  Christ  justifies  them. — "  The  Sick  need  tltc 
 Physician." 
 
 Wliat  surprise  and  offence  must  the  Pharisees  have  felt 
 when  they  saw  Christ  admit  even  a  ^>2<Wfc«J4  into  the 
 immediate  circle  of  his  disciples."' 
 
 '  The  simplicity  of  this  narrative,  and  tlie  stamp  of  Christ's  spirit  whiolt 
 it  bears,  are  sufficient  proofs  of  its  originality  and  truth.  But  I  find  no 
 ground  for  believing  it  to  be  identical  with  the  anointing  of  Christ  by 
 Mary  at  Bethany,  which  also,  according  to  Matt.  (xxvi.  6),  occurred  in  the 
 house  of  a  Simon.  The  resemblances  are  accidental;  such  things  could 
 occur  again  and  again  amid  Oriental  customs.  That  a  woman,  in  order 
 to  show  her  reverential  love  for  the  Saviour,  might  serve  him  like  a  slave, 
 wash  his  feet,  not  with  water,  but  with  the  costliest  material  in  her  pos- 
 session, &c.  ;  all  this  could  easily  have  occun-ed  twice,  and  both  times, 
 too,  in  the  house  of  a  man  named  Simon,  which  was  a  very  common  name 
 among  the  Jews  ;  although  it  is  possible  that  the  name  may  have  been 
 transferred  from  the  one  account  to  the  other.  But  while  the  resem- 
 blances are  accidental,  the  differences  are  substantial.  In  the  one  the 
 woman  is  an  awakened  sinner  ;  in  the  other,  one  who  had  always  led  a 
 devout  life,  and  was,  at  the  time,  seized  with  additional  gratitude  at 
 the  saving  of  a  beloved  brother's  life.  In  the  one,  the  different  relations 
 in  which  a  self-righteous  Pharisee  and  an  awakened  sinner  stand  to  Christ, 
 who  rejects  no  repentant  sinner,  are  .set  forth  ;  in  the  other,  a  heartfelt 
 love,  which  knows  no  measure,  is  contrasted  with  the  common  mind, 
 incapable  of  comprehending  such  love.  In  the  one  it  is  Christ  that  is 
 blamed  and  justified  ;  in  the  other,  the  woman. 
 
 "'  There  are  discrepancies  in  the  narrative  of  the  calling  of  Matthew, 
 not,  however,  affecting  the  credibility  of  the  account,  which  comes  from 
 several  independent  sources,  and  bears  no  marks  of  exaggeration.  In 
 Matthew's  Gospel,  ix.  9,  the  person  hero  spoken  of  is  called  Matthew,  and 
 in  X.  3,  Matthew  the  publican  is  mentioned  among  the  Apostles  ;  but  in 
 Luke  v.  27  ;  Mark  ii.  14,  he  is  called  Levi.  Mark  appears  to  Ije  more 
 definite  than  the  others,  calling  him  the  son  of  Alpheus,  which  does  not 
 look  like  a  fanciful  designation.  The  difficulty  might  be  overcome  by 
 supposing  (what  was  not  uncommon  among  the  Jews)  that  the  same  mau 
 
230  FIRST  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 As  lie  was  walking  one  day  along  the  shore  of  the  lake,"  he 
 saw  a  publican  sitting  in  his  toll-booth,  named  ^Matthew;  a 
 man  who  had  doubtless,  like  Peter,  received  many  impressions 
 from  Christ  before,  and  was  thereby  prepai'ed  to  renounce  the 
 world  at  liis  bidding.  Jesus,  with  a  voice  that  could  not  be 
 resisted,  said  unto  him,  "  Follow  one."  Matthew  understood 
 the  call,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  follow,  at  any  cost,  Him  who 
 had  so  powerfully  attracted  his  heart.  He  left  his  business, 
 rejoicing  that  Christ  was  ^viUing  to  take  him  into  his  closer 
 fellowship.  This  decisive  event  was  celebrated  by  a  great 
 entertainment,"  intended  also,  perhaps,  as  a  farewell  feast  to 
 his  old  business  associates.  Christ,  in  whose  honour  the  en- 
 tertainment was  given,  did  not  disdain  this  token  of  grateful 
 love,  but  took  his  place  at  the  feast  with  a  set  of  men  who 
 were  regarded  as  the  scum  of  the  people,  but  to  whom  his 
 sa^TOig  influences  were  to  be  brought  nigh. 
 
 Shortly  after,  some  of  the  Pharisees  took  the  disciples  to 
 task  for  their  fi-ee  and  (as  they  thought)  unspiritual  mode  of 
 life,  in  eating  and  drinking  with  degraded  sinners  and  tax- 
 gatherers.  It  is  evident  that  the  attack  was  intended  for 
 Christ,  though  they  hesitated,  as  yet,  to  assault  him  openly. 
 He,  therefore,  took  the  matter  up  pei'sonally,  and  justified  his 
 conduct  by  saying,  "  They  that  are  whole  need  not  a  physician, 
 but  tliey  that  are  sick."  Indicating  that  he  sought,  rather  than 
 avoided,  degi-aded  sinners,  because  they,  precisely,  stood  most 
 
 was  desigiuated  in  the  one  case  by  the  name,  in  the  other  by  the  surname. 
 An  objection  to  this  (though  not  decisive)  is  the  fact  that  in  the  list  of 
 Apostles  given  in  Matt.  x.  3,  he  is  called  merely  Matthew  the  publican, 
 with  no  surname,  and  in  the  lists  given  by  Mark  aud  Luke,  Matthew, 
 simply,  with  no  surname ;  and,  further,  that  an  old  tradition  existed, 
 which  discriminated  Matthew  and  Levi,  and  named  the  latter,  in  addition, 
 among  the  prominent  heralds  of  the  Gospel.  (Heracleon,  in  Clem.  Alex. 
 Strom.  1.  iv.  c.  xi.)  On  this  ground  we  might  admit,  with  Sieffcrt,  that 
 the  names  of  two  persons,  i.  e.  of  the  Apostle  Matthew,  and  some  other 
 who  had  been  admitted,  at  least,  among  the  Seventy,  had  been  confounded 
 together.  But  as  Matthew  himself  was  the  original  source  of  the  materials 
 of  the  Gospel  which  bears  his  name  (materials  arranged,  perhaps,  by 
 another  hand),  we  cannot  attribute  the  confusion  to  this  Gospel.  It  is,  at 
 the  same  time,  possible  that  the  giver  of  the  feast  (Luke  v.  29),  Levi,  was 
 another  rich  publican,  a  friend  of  the  publican  Matthew,  who  afterward 
 also  attached  himself  to  Jesus  ;  especially  as  nothing  is  said  in  Matt.  ix.  10, 
 about  a  great  feast  being  given  at  the  house  of  Matthew  ;  and  that  thus 
 the  name  of  Matthew,  whose  call  to  the  ministry  occasioned  the  feast,  and 
 that  of  Levi,  the  host,  in  whose  life  it  made  an  epoch,  and  who  afterward 
 became  known  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  were  confounded  together. 
 »  Mark  ii.  13.  "  Luke  v.  29. 
 
DIFFERENT  MODES  OF  REPLY.  231 
 
 in  need  of  his  healing  aid,  and  were  most  likely,  from  a  sense 
 of  need,  to  receive  it  willingly. 
 
 But  he  certainly  did  not  mean  to  say  that  he  came  to  save 
 only  those  who  were  sunken  in  vice.  He  was  far,  also,  from 
 meaning,  that  though  all  have  need  of  him,  all  have  not  the 
 same  need  of  him;  that  any  were  excluded  from  the  number 
 of  the  "  sick,"  who  needed  him  as  a  "  physician."  But  he  taught 
 that  as  he  had  come  as  a  physician  for  the  sick,  he  could  help 
 only  those  who,  as  sick  persons,  sought  healing  at  his  hands. 
 He  sought  the  tax-gatherers  rather  than  the  Pharisees,  because 
 the  latter,  deeming  themselves  spiritually  sound,  had  no  dispo- 
 sition to  receive  that  which  he  came  to  impart.  Undoubtedly, 
 he  did  not  mean  to  grant  that  they  were  sound,  or  less  diseased 
 than  the  publicans. 
 
 Indeed,  he  pointed  out  their  peculiar  disease  by  saying  to 
 them,  "  Go  ye,  and  learn  wJiat  that  meanneth,  '  /  will  have  mercy, 
 and  not  sacrifice.''''^  On  the  one  hand,  by  this  quotation,  he 
 pointed  out  the  feeling  that  inspired  his  own  conduct,  the  love 
 which  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law ;  and,  on  the  other,  he  indi- 
 cated their  fundamental  error  of  making  religion  an  outward 
 thing,  while  they  totally  lacked  the  soul  of  genuine  piety. 
 This  was  to  convince  them  that  they  themselves  were  sick  and 
 needed  the  physician.  Dropping  the  figiure,  he  gave  them  the 
 same  thought  in  plain  terms:  "/  came  not  to  call  the  rig/Ueous, 
 hut  sinners  to  repentance." 
 
 §  142. — Christ's  different  Modes  of  Rejtly  to  those  who  questioned  his  Conduct 
 in  consorting  loith  Sinners. — The  Value  of  a  Soul. — Parable  of  the  Prodi- 
 gal Son. — Of  the  Pharisee  and  the  Publican. 
 
 There  is  a  difference  in  one  respect  in  Christ's  replies  at  dif- 
 ferent times  to  those  who  found  fault  with  his  kindness  to 
 publicans  and  degraded  sinners.  In  some  cases  he  stopped 
 short  after  vividly  exhibiting  the  mercy  of  God  to  all  truly 
 repentant  sinners;  in  others,  he  not  only  justified  his  own  con- 
 duct, but  took  the  offensive  against  those  who  had  attacked  him, 
 and  showed  them  their  own  deficiencies  in  tiiie  righteousness, 
 and  their  inferioiity  to  the  sincerely  repentant  publicans.  The 
 foi-mer  coiirse  was  probably  taken  with  those  who  were  more 
 sincerely  stmdng  after  righteousness,  and  who  took  offence  at 
 him  on  purer  grounds.  It  is  necessaiy  to  note  this  distinction 
 in  order  to  apprehend  Christ's  words  rightly,  and  to  derive, 
 from  comparing  his  discourses  together,  a  connected  system  of 
 doctrine. 
 
 P  Matt.  ix.  13  ;  Hos.  vi.  6. 
 
232  FIRST  GENERAL  MIMSTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Under  tlie  first  class  may  be  placed  the  parables  which  are 
 recorded  in  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  Luke.  In  verses  3-10  we 
 have  a  vivid  illustration  of  the  value  which  God  attaches  to  the 
 salvation  of  one  soul,  sho^vn  by  the  great  joy  which  the  repent- 
 ance of  a  sinner  caiLses  in  a  world  of  spuits,  allied  in  their 
 sympathies  to  Him.  This  is  the  one  point  wliich  is  to  be  made 
 prominent  and  emphatic  in  interpi-etiug  the  passage;  we  shoidd 
 err  in  pressing  the  separate  points  of  comparison  ftirther. 
 
 To  the  same  class,  also,  belongs  the  parable  of  the  Prodigal 
 Son.^i  The  elder  son,  who  remains  at  home  and  serves  his 
 father  faithfully,  represents  a  Pharisee"^  of  the  better  clas.s,  who 
 sincerely  strives  to  keep  the  law  and  is  free  from  glaruig  sins, 
 but  still  occupies  a  strictly  legal  stand-point.  The  younger  son 
 represents  one  who  seeks  his  liighest  good  in  the  woi-ld,  throws 
 off  the  restraints  of  the  law,  and  gives  full  play  to  his  pas.sions. 
 But  experience  shows  him  the  emptiness  of  such  a  life; 
 estranged  frona  God,  he  becomes  conscious  of  wi-etchedness, 
 and  returns,  sincerely  pemtent,  to  seek  forgiveness  in  the 
 Father's  love. 
 
 Christ  does  not  go  far,  in  this  parable,  in  illustrating  the 
 deficiencies  of  the  Phaiisee.  His  legal  righteousness  goes 
 without  specific  rebuke,  but  his  envy  (v.  28),  and  his  want  of 
 love  (•■the  fulfilling  of  the  hnv"),  show  clearly  the  emptiness  of 
 his  morality.  It  may  have  been  the  Saviour's  intention  to  lead 
 the  person  here  represented  to  discover,  of  liimself,  his  total 
 want  of  the  substance  of  religion. 
 
 The  one  chief  point  of  the  parable  is  to  illustrate,  luider  the 
 figui'e  of  relations  drawn  from  Inmian  life,  the  manner  in  which 
 the  paternal  love  of  God  meets  the  vilest  of  sinnei*s  when  he 
 returns  sincerely  penitent.  How  strikingly  does  this  picture 
 of  the  Father's  \o\c,  ever  ready  to  pardon  sin,  rebuke  not  merely 
 the  Jewish  exclusiA-eness,  but  all  those  limitations  of  God'.s 
 purpo.ses  for  the  salvati(Mi  of  the  human  race,  whether  before  or 
 aft(u-  Christ,  Avhich  the  arbitrary  creeds  of  men  have  attributed 
 to  the  Divine  decrees!  The  parable  clearly  implies  that  the 
 lov(!  of  the  Father  contemplates  the  stdvation  of  aU  his  falleu 
 children,  among  all  generations  of  men.  Yet  it  by  no  means 
 excludes,  although  it  does  not  expressly  declare,  tlie  necessity 
 
 1  Luke  XV.  11-32. 
 
 '  Thi.s  must  he  the  cise,  on  the  .suppo.sition  that  Luke  xv.  2  expresses 
 the  precise  occjision  of  thi.s  parahle,  but  we  cannot  positively  assert  thU. 
 It  is  po.srtihle  that  one  of  the  disciples  who  had  not  fully  imbitjed  the  tipirit 
 of  Christ  may  have  given  the  occasion  for  it. 
 
THE  MIKACLE  AT  THE  POOL  OF  BETHESDA.  233 
 
 of  the  mediatorial  work  of  Christ ;  we  must  not  expect  to  find 
 tlie  whole  cu-cle  of  Chiistian  doctrine  in  every  parable.  Indeed, 
 the  mediation  of  Christ  itself  is  the  precise  way  in  which  the 
 paternal  love  of  God  goes  out  to  meet  and  welcome  all  his  fallen 
 children  when  they  retm*n  in  repentance.  The  parable  images 
 the  condition  of  fallen  man  in  general,  as  well  as  of  that  cla.ss 
 of  gi'oss  sinners  to  which,  from  the  occasion  on  wliich  Chi-ist 
 uttered  it,  it  necessarily  gives  special  prominence. 
 
 The  line  of  distinction  between  the  Pharisee  and  the  i)ub- 
 lican  is  stiU  more  closely  drawn  in  the  parable  contained  in 
 Luke  x\'iii.  9-14.^  The  publican  humbles  liimsclf  before  God, 
 deeply  sensible  of  sin,  and  only  seeking  foi-giveness,  and  is 
 therefore  represented  as  having  the  dispositions  necessary  for 
 pardon  and  justification.  The  Pharisee,  trusting  in  his  sup- 
 posed righteousness,  exalts  himself  above  the  notorious  sinner, 
 and  is  therefore  destitute  of  the  conditions  of  pardon,  though 
 he  needs  it  a,s  nuich  as  the  other.  Chiist  himself  deduces  from 
 the  example  this  general  tnith :  ^- Every  one  tlutt  exalteth  hbiiself 
 shall  be  abased,  and  lie  that  humbhth  himself  shall  be  exalted." 
 That  is,  he  who  sets  up  great  pretensions  before  God  on 
 accoimt  of  his  .self-acquired  virtue  or  ^visdora,  will  be  disap- 
 pointed ;  his  arrogant  assumption  of  a  worth  which  is  nothing 
 but  \-ileness  will  exclude  him  from  that  true  dignity  wliich  the 
 grace  of  God  alone  can  bestow ;  which  dignity  toiU  be  bestowed, 
 on  the  other  hand,  upon  the  sinner  who  truly  humbles  himself 
 before  God  from  a  conscious  sense  of  moral  unworthiness. 
 
 In  this  par-able  we  find  the  gemi  of  Paul's  doctrine  ;  even  of 
 some  of  his  weighty  expressions  on  this  subject.  The  doctinne 
 is  the  same  as  that  which  Christ  taught  in  pronouncing  the 
 '•  poor  in  spirit  "  blessed. 
 
 CHAPTER  VIII. 
 Christ's  second  journey  to  jeuusalem.* 
 
 §  US.— The  Miracle  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda.—The  Words  of  Christ  in 
 
 the  Temple  to  the  Man  that  was  healed.     (.John  v.  1-14.) 
 Christ,  ha-\-ing  spent  the  Avinter  in  Galilee,  was  called  again 
 to  Jeru.salem  by  the  feast  of  the  Passover.     His  stay  iu'the 
 
 "  This  parable  is  one  (cf.  p.  Ill)  in  which  a  truth  relating  to  the  king- 
 dom of  God  i^^  illustrated  by  an  a.sgumed  fact ;  but  the  fact  is  one  taken 
 from  the  same  sphere  of  life  ad  that  which  it  intended  to  depict.  More- 
 over, the  relation  which  niu.st  exist,  in  all  time,  between  the  self-righteous 
 saint  b;/  works  and  the  humbly  penitent  sinner  is  illustrated  by  an  example 
 such  as  once  constantly  occurred  in  real  life — in  Pharisees  and  publicans. 
 
 '  John  V.  1.     The  chronology  of  the  life  of  Christ  depends  a  good  deal 
 
234  SECOND  JOUKNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 city  at  that  feast  forms  a  marked  period  in  his  history  ;  for  a 
 cure  wrought  upon  a  certain  Sabbath  in  that  time  was  the 
 occasion,  if  not  the  cause,  of  a  more  violent  display  of  the 
 opposition  of  the  Pharisees  than  had  yet  been  made  against 
 him. 
 
 A  certain  spring  at  Jerasalem  was  believed  by  the  people  to 
 
 possess  remarkable  heahng  powers  at  particular  seasons,  when 
 
 its  waters  were  moved  by  (what  they  supposed  to  be)  a  super- 
 
 atural  cause.^'  It  is  unimportant  whether  this  belief  was  an  old 
 
 upon  the  question  whether  the  feast  mentioned  John  v.  1,  was  or  was  not 
 the  Passovei".  The  indefiniteness  of  the  word  "  feast "  in  this  passage,  and 
 the  mention  of  the  Passover  itself  in  John  vi.  4,  might  lead  us  to  infer 
 that  the  feast  of  Purini  was  meant,  which  occurred  a  few  weeks  before  the 
 Passover  ;  but  everything  else  is  against  this  inference.  The  Purim 
 feast  did  not  require  of  the  pious  Jew  avataivtiv  tig  'lipocroXvfia  ;  had 
 this  least,  herefore,  been  in  question,  we  might  expect  in  John  v.  1,  a 
 statement  of  Christ's  reason  for  going  up  to  it,  instead  of  waiting  for  the 
 Passover.  The  most  ancient  interpretation  favours  the  Passover  (Iren, 
 ii.  22),  which  feast  was  attended  by  most  of  the  foreign  Jews,  and  required 
 the  ai'atahxiv.  The  omission  of  the  definite  article  in  the  text  is  not  so 
 important  as  some  suppose.  The  text  says  rjv  toprl] — "it  was  feast" — 
 further  defined  by  aviiii],  showing  that  the  chief  feast  is  intended.  Even 
 in  German  [or  English]  we  might  say,  loosely,  "it  was  feast,"  omitting  the 
 article,  as  in  the  Greek.  It  is  unlikely,  too,  that  Christ,  who  had  already 
 roused  the  prejudices  of  the  Pharisees  against  him,  should  have  gone  to 
 the  Purim  feast,  where  he  would  have  had  to  contend  with  them  alone  in 
 Jerusalem,  instead  of  continuing  his  labours  undisturbed  in  Galilee  until 
 Passover.  John's  omission  to  say  more  of  Christ's  ministry  up  to  the  time 
 of  the  next  Passover  (vi.  4)  may  be  accounted  for  on  the  ground  that  it 
 was  not  his  purpose  to  recount  his  labours  in  Galilee,  which  were  preserved 
 in  the  circle  of  the  ordinary  traditions.  The  two  first  verses  of  chap.  v. 
 show  how  summary  his  account  is.  Only  in  chap.  vii.  1,  is  an  occasion 
 offered  for  assigning  the  reason  for  Christ's  stay  in  Galilee ;  we  can  the 
 more  readily  account  for  the  surprise  of  the  brothers  (vii.  3,  seq.)  if  he 
 spent  the  whole  year  and  a  half  in  Galilee. 
 
 "  Against  the  credibility  of  this  account,  Brctschncidcr  and  'Strav^s 
 adduce  the  silence  of  Josephus  and  the  Eabbins  in  regard  to  such  a  healing 
 spring  ;  but  this  argument — like  every  arfjumcntum  e  silentio,  unsupported 
 by  special  circumstances — is  destitute  of  force.  These  very  authorities  tell 
 us  that  there  were  many  mineral  springs  in  Palestine.  Euscbiits,  in  his 
 work,  "inpi  rwv  tottikwv  ovofidTwv  rutv  iv  ry  ^tlq.  ypa(py"  (Onomasticon), 
 says,  under  the  word  "Bjj^a^a" — " Kai  vvv  CtiKwrai  tv  ra'ig  avToOt 
 \ifivaig  SiOvfioiQ,  wv  tKaripa  fi'tv  Ik  Twr  Kar^  itoq  vtrwv  TrXjjpovTai, 
 ddrfpa  Sk  TrapacuKdOQ  Treipoiviy^uvov  hii'vm  to  vSwp,  i\'»'OC,  we  <pa(Ti, 
 ffpnvaa  twv  TrciXai  KaOaipofikvuiv  'itptiwv.  Trap'  o  Knl  TrpoiaTiKt]  KaXtlTai 
 Jid  TO.  ^v^ara."  (Hieron.  0pp.  ed.  Vallars,  tom.  iii.  pt.  i.  p.  181.)  The 
 old  tradition,  that  the  waters  liad  become  "  red,"  from  the  washing  of  the 
 sacrifices  in  them  in  old  times,  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  it  contained 
 peculiar  components.  Tlie  legend  of  the  angel  (in  v.  4,  which,  according 
 to  the  best  criticism,  does  not  belong  to  John,  but  is  a  later  gloss)  could 
 not   have    arisen   unless    the   spring   and  its  phenomena   really  existed. 
 
CHRIST  ACCUSED  OF  SABBATH-BREAKING.  235 
 
 one,  or  was  called  forth  at  a  later  period  by  actual  occurrences, 
 of  which,  as  was  common,  too  much  was  made.  The  heaUng 
 spring  itself,  or  the  covered  colonnade  connected  with  it,  was 
 called  Bethesda"  ("  place  of  mercy  "). 
 
 At  this  fountain  Chi-ist  found,  on  the  Sabbath  day,  a  man 
 who  had  been  lame  for  thirty-eight  yeai's,  and  had  long  waited 
 for  the  moving  of  the  waters  in  hope  of  relief,  but  had  never 
 been  able  to  a  ail  himself  of  it  for  want  of  a  kind  hand  to  help 
 him  into  the  water  at  the  auspicious  moment.  It  is  probable 
 that  many  pressed  to  the  spiing  in  haste  to  catch  the  passing 
 instant,  when  its  healing  powers  were  active.  But  the  sick 
 man  was  to  find  help  from  a  far  different  soiu-ce.  [Jesus  saith 
 unto  him,  Arise,  take  ujy  thy  bed  cmd  icalk,  and  immediately  the 
 man  was  made  whole.^ 
 
 The  restored  man  lost  sight  of  the  Saviour  in  the  throng, 
 but  afterward  Christ  found  him  in  the  Temple,  where  he  had 
 probably  fir.st  gone  in  order  to  thank  God  for  his  recovery. 
 The  favourable  moment  was  seized  by  the  Sa^dour  to  direct  his 
 mind  fi'om  the  healing  of  his  body  to  that  of  his  soul.  His 
 words,  "Sin  no  more,  lest  a  worse  thing  come  unto  thee,"  maybe 
 considered  either  as  implying  that  the  sickness,  in  this  parti- 
 cular case,  was  cavised  by  sin,  or  as  referring  to  the  general 
 connexion  between  sin  and  physical  e\\\,  in  "virtue  of  which  the 
 latter  is  a  memorial  of  the  former  as  its  source.  In  either  view, 
 they  were  intended  to  remind  him  of  liis  sphitual  necessities, 
 and  to  point  out  the  only  way  in  which  they  could  be  reUeved. 
 
 §  144. — The  Phansees  accuse  Christ  of  Sahhath-hreahing  and  Blasphemy. — 
 His  Justification.     (John  v.  10,  17-19.) 
 
 Tliis  occurrence  gave  the  Pharisees  the  first  occasion  (so  far 
 as  we  know)  to  accu.se  Chxist  of  breaking  the  Sabbath  and  of 
 blaspheming  against  God.  The  fii'st  accusation  was  made  in 
 theu'  contracted  sense  of  the  Sabbatical  law,  and  of  its  viola- 
 tion ;  the  latter  arose  from  their  legal  Monotheism,  and  their 
 narrow  idea  of  the  Messianic  office. 
 
 In  his  justification,  Christ  struck  at  the  root  of  the  first 
 eiTor,  viz.,  the  carnal  notion  that  the  sanctity  of  the  Sabbath 
 was  founded  solely  upon  God's  resting  after  the  work  of 
 creation,  as  if  his  creative  labours  were  then  commenced  and 
 ended;  and  points  out,  on  the  other  hand,  the  ever-continuing 
 
 Robinson  (Palestine,  ii.  137,  156)  thinks  that  he  found  in  the  irregular 
 movement  of  the  water  in  the  "  Fountain  of  the  Virgin  "  phenomena 
 similar  to  those  recorded  of  the  Pool  of  Bethesda,  and  contributing  to 
 explain  them.  "  "^^r^i  and  ms. 
 
23G  SECOND  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 activity  of  God  as  the  ground  of  all  being — my  FatJier  ivorketh 
 Mtlierto,  and  I  v^orky''  ("  As  He  never  ceases  to  work,  so  do  I 
 ■work  luiceasingly  for  the  salvation  of  men.")  He  rejects  the 
 narrow  limits  which  their  contracted  view  of  tlie  law  of  the 
 Sabbath  woidd  a-ssign  to  his  healing  labours,  which  were  to  go 
 on  luiinterruptedly.  Nor  did  he  lower  his  tone  in  regard  to 
 the  relations  wliich  he  sustained  to  his  Heavenly  Father 
 because  his  opponents  charged  liim  with  claiming,  by  Ids 
 words,  Di^^ne  dignity  and  authority.  On  the  contrary,  he 
 strengthened  his  assertions,  taking  care  only  to  guai'd  against 
 their  l)eing  perverted  into  a  depreciation  of  the  Father's  dignity, 
 by  declaring  that  he  labovu-ed  in  unity  with  the  Father,  and  in 
 dependence  upon  him.  '•  Tlie  Soyi,"  said  he,  "  can  do  notJiingqf 
 himself,  but  what  he  seeth  the  Father  do."  (He  would  have  to 
 deny  himself  as  the  Son  of  GoD,  before  he  could  act  contrary  to 
 the  will  and  example  of  the  Father.) 
 
 §  145. — The  Discourse  continwd  :  Christ  intimates  his  future  greater 
 Works. — Uis  Judgment,  and  the  Resui-rection.     (John  v.  20-29.) 
 
 Christ  proceeds  to  declare  (v.  20)  that  the  Father  loill  show 
 him  greater  V)orks  than  these,  i.  e.,  than  re^'i\ing  the  dead  limbs 
 of  the  paralytic.  And  what  were  these  "  greater  works?" 
 "Without  doubt,  tJuit  work  which  Christ  always  describes  as 
 Lis  greatest — as  the  aim  of  his  wliole  life — the  awakening, 
 namely,  of  Divine  life  in  the  spiritually  dead  humanity  :  a 
 work  which  notliing  but  the  creatine  efficiency  of  God  could 
 accomplish.  "  That  ye  may  marvel ;"  for  those  who  then  woidd 
 not  recognize  the  Son  of  God  in  the  humble  gai-b  of  the  Son  of 
 JNIan  woidd  indeed,  at  a  later  period,  be  amazed  to  see  works 
 (wrought  l)y  one  whom  they  believed  to  be  dead)  wluch  must 
 be  acknowledged  to  be  great  in  their  moral  effects,  even  if 
 their  intrinsic  natui'e  could  not  be  understood. 
 
 He  describes  these  gi-eater  works  more  exactly,  and  points 
 out,  at  the  same  time,  tlie  perfect  power  which  he  would  ha\-c 
 to  do  them  in  the  words  :  "  Fo^'  as  the  Fatlier  raiseth  vp  the 
 dead,  and  qiiickeneth  tliem,  even  so  the  So7i  quickcneth  ichom  Ite 
 will."     The  raising  to  life  is  as  real  in  the  latter  clause  as  in 
 
 *  John  V.  17.  This  is  not  out  of  place,  nor  borrowed  from  Philo,  as 
 some  snjjpose,  nor  a  mere  metaphysical  jiroposition,  but  one  belontjing 
 immeiliately  to  the  reliijious  con.sciou.snessj.  It  is  said,  moreover,  that 
 Christ's  transition  (in  verses  17,  19,  seq.)  from  the  Sabliath  controver.'sy  t<> 
 an  exposition  of  his  higher  dijniity  is  out  of  keeping  with  his  ch.iracter  and 
 mode  of  teaching,  as  exhibited  in  the  first  three  Gospels.  What  would  he 
 said,  then,  if  a  transition  like  that  recorded  in  Matthew  xij.  6,  weiv 
 recorded  in  John's  Gospel  ? 
 
THE  TESTIMONY  TO  CHRIST.  237 
 
 llie  former.  It  depends  xipon  His  will,  indeed  ;  but  liis  is  no 
 arbitrary  will ;  and  it  follows  that  submission  to  his  Avill  is 
 requisite  before  man  can  receive  this  Divine  life.  This,  like 
 that  other  passage — the  wind  bloioeth  vj/iere  it  listeth — breaks 
 down  the  ban-iers  within  which  Judaism  inclosed  the  Theocracy 
 and  the  Messianic  calling. 
 
 And  because  it  depends  upon  the  Son  to  give  light  to  whom 
 He  will,  the  whole  judgment  of  mankind  is  intrusted  to  his 
 hands.  "For  tlie  Father  judgeth  no  man,  hut  Jmth  committed  all 
 judgment  unto  tJie  Son."  The  negative  is  joined  to  the  positive. 
 The  judgment  is  brought  about  by  men's  bearing  towards  Him 
 from  whom  alone  they  can  receive  life  :  "  T/uU  all  men  slioidd 
 Jionour  the  Son,  even  as  also  they  honour  tlie  Father."  He  that 
 ^vill  not  recognize  the  Divine  mission  of  the  Son  dishonours  the 
 Father  that  sent  liim. 
 
 The  truth  thus  enunciated  in  general  terms,  Christ  pre- 
 sented still  more  vividly,  by  applying  it  to  his  work  then 
 beginning,  and  Avliich  was  to  be  carried  on  through  all  ages, 
 until  the  final  judgment  and  the  consummation  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God.  "  He  that  heareth  my  tvord,  and  believeth  on  him  tluit 
 sent  me,  luith  everlasting  life,  and  shall  not  come  into  judcpnent, 
 but  is  jiCLSsed  from  deatli  into  life  (the  tx-ue,  everlasting,  Divine 
 life).  Tlie  hour  is  coming,  and  now  is,  ic/ien  tlve  (spiritually) 
 dead  sJuUl  Iiear  the  voice  of  the  Son  of  God,  and  tliej/  t/tat  Iiear 
 shcdl  live  ;  for  as  tlie  Father  hath  (the  Source  of  Divine)  life  in 
 himself  so  lialh  he  given  to  the  Son  to  lucre  (Divine)  life  in  him- 
 lielf  (If  the  Source  of  Ufe,  which  is  in  God,  had  not  been  com- 
 municated to  the  human  natm-e  in  liim,  then  communion  with 
 him  could  not  communicate  the  Divine  life  to  others.)  And 
 hath  given  him  autluyrity  to  execute  jiulg)nent  also,  because  he  is 
 the  Son  of  Man  (as  man  he  is  to  judge  men)." 
 
 His  hearers,  who  saw  him  before  their  eyes  in  human  form, 
 were  startled,  doubtless,  by  these  declarations.  They  looked 
 for  Messiah  to  establish  a  visible  kingdom,  with  unearthly 
 splendours,  expectmg  it  to  be  attended  by  an  outward  judg- 
 ment ;  and  Christ's  announcement  of  a  spiritiud  agency,  that 
 was  to  be  coeval  with  the  world's  liistory,  was  beyond  their 
 apprehension.  He  referred  them,  therefore,  to  the  final  aim 
 of  the  course  which  he  was  laying  out  for  the  human  race,  the 
 Hnal  Messianic  work  of  the  Judgment  and  the  general  Eesui'- 
 lection  ;  a  work  in  itself,  indeed,  more  famihar  to  them,  but 
 which,  as  ascribed  to  him,  must  have  still  more  raised  their 
 Avonder.     "Marvel  not  at  this ;  for  the  hour  is  coming  m  ivhich 
 
238  SECOND  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 cill  tluit  are  in  tJie  graves  shaU  hear  his  voice,  and  shall  come 
 forth  :  tliey  that  have  done  good,  to  the  resurrection  of  life  ;  and 
 they  tluxt  liave  done  evil,  unto  tlie  resurrection  of  da/mnation.'" 
 
 §  116. — The  Discourse  continued:  Christ  appeals  to  the  Testimony  of 
 his  Worh.     (John  v.  30-37.) 
 
 Having  tlius  unfolded  his  whole  Messianic  agency,  em- 
 bracing both  the  present  and  the  future,  Christ  retvirns  (v.  30) 
 to  the  general  proposition  "vvith  which  he  had  commenced  (in 
 T.  1 9).  As  he  had  appUed  his  unity  of  action  with  the  Father 
 to  his  whole  course,  so  now  he  apphes  it  specifically  to  his 
 judgment,  which  must,  therefore,  be  just  and  time  :  "  I  can  oj 
 mine  oum  self  do  nothing  ;  as  I  hear,  I  judge,  and  my  judgment 
 is  just." 
 
 His  decision  agaiu-st  his  opponents  must,  therefore,  be  just 
 and  time  also.  They  need  not  say  (he  told  them)  that  his 
 testimony  was  not  trustworthy,  because  given  of  himself  (v.  31). 
 It  was  another  that  bore  witness  of  him,  whose  testimony  he 
 knew  to  be  unimpeachable  {x.  32).  He  did  not  allude  to  John, 
 whose  light,  which  had  been  to  them,  as  to  childi-en,  a  source 
 of  transitoiy'-'  pleasure,  they  had  not  followed  to  the  point 
 whither  it  ought  to  have  guided  them ;  he  did  not  allude  to 
 John's,  nor,  indeed,  to  any  man's  testimony,  but  to  a  greater, 
 viz.,  the  works  themselves,  which  the  Father  had  given  him  to 
 accomplish,  and  which  formed  the  objective  tei?timony  to  the 
 Divinity  of  liis  laboiu's :  "  TJie  same  tcorlcs  tJiat  I  do,  hear  xmtness 
 of  me  that  the  Father  hath  sent  me ;  and  tlie  Fat/ier  himself, 
 which  hath  sent  me,  hath  borne  icitness  ofme^'y  (v.  36,  37). 
 
 *  The  words  of  John  v.  35,  imply  that  the  ministry  of  the  Baptist 
 belonged  to  the  past,  and  they  may  have  been  spoken  after  his  death ; 
 although  the  only  necessary  inference  is,  that  he  had  ceased  his  public 
 labours. 
 
 y  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who  (like  Liicke,  Comm.  John  v.  37)  refer 
 the  first  clause  of  verse  37  to  the  testimony  of  the  Father,  as  given  in  the 
 Old  Testament.  The  connexion  demands  a  climax.  But  how  could  the 
 testimony  of  God  in  the  Scriptures  be  more  direct  than  in  the  Divine 
 Agency  of  Christ  itself?  There  could  be  no  revelation  more  direct  or 
 powerful  than  this.  The  present  tense  ("  the  works  bear  witness  ")  w  used 
 in  verse  3G,  because  Christ's  agency  was  still  going  on,  and  to  continue. 
 But  because  part  of  it  was  already  past,  and  a  subject  of  contemjilation, 
 the  perfect  tense  is  used  in  verse  37  ('"  the  Father /ia</i  twTic  wiliic.se"). 
 The  37th  verse  looks  back  to  the  3Cth,  the  o  nifr^ac  ft  referring  to  the  on 
 6  Trarqp  fit  airfirraXicf.  The  climax  consists  in  the  transfer  of  what  has 
 been  said  of  the  works,  as  testifying  of  God,  to  God  himsdf,  as  testifying 
 through  the  works,  llien  Christ  shows  why  the  Jews  do  not  perceive 
 this  testimony,  but  always  demand  new  proofs.  They  ask  a  testimony 
 that  can  be  heard  and  perceived  by  the  carnal  senses  ;  and  theie  is  none 
 
THE  TESTIMONY  TO  CHRIST.  239 
 
 §  147. — The  Discourse  continued :  Incapacity  of  the  Jeivs  to  Understand 
 the  Testimony  of  God  as  given  in  the  Saiptures.     (John  v.  37-47.) 
 
 It  was  precisely  tbrougli  the  works,  Christ  told  them,  that 
 the  Father  had  testified  to  liim.  "  But,"  coutinued  he,  in  effect, 
 "  it  is  no  wonder  that  you  ask  another  testimony  of  me,  seeing 
 that  you  are  destitute  of  the  spiritual  capacity  which  is  neces- 
 sary to  perceive  this  one.  It  cannot  be  perceived  with  the 
 senses ;  ^  you  have  never  heard  with  your  ears  the  voice  of  the 
 Father,  nor  seen  with  your  eyes  his  form.  God  does  not  reveal 
 himself  to  the  fleshly  sense ;  and  in  you  no  other  sense  is  de- 
 veloped. And  for  this  reason,  too,  you  cannot  understand  the 
 testimony  of  the  Scriptvu-es.  The  word  of  God,  wliich  you 
 ought  to  have  received  within  you  from  the  Scriptures,  dwells 
 not  in  you  ;  it  has  remained  for  you  simply  outward.  Hence 
 your  'searching  of  the  Scriptures'  is  a  lifeless  thing.  Thinking 
 that,  in  the  letter  of  the  word,  you  have  eternal  life,  you  will 
 not  come  unto  Him  who  alone  impaxis  that  life,  and  to  whom 
 the  Scriptures  were  only  intended  to  lead ;  your  dLspositions 
 and  mine  are  directly  contraiy.  I  am  concerned  only  for  the 
 honour  of  God;  you  for  your  own.  With  such  a  disposition, 
 you  cannot  possibly  believe  in  me.  If  another  should  come,  in 
 feeling  like  youi'selves,  and  seek,  in  liis  own  name,  to  lord  it 
 among  you,  him  you  will  receive.'*  Moses  himself,  for  whose 
 honour  you  are  zealous,  biit  whose  law  you  violate  whenever  it 
 clashes  with  your  selfish  interests,  will  appear  as  your  accuser. 
 Did  you  truly  believe  Moses — not  according  to  the  letter 
 merely,  but  also  to  the  spirit — you  would  also  believe  in  me."'' 
 
 Had  the  I'harisees  been  truly  sincere  in  observing  the  law, 
 the  law  would  have  been  to  them  a  Tratca^wyoc  f«c  Xptarov  (a 
 
 8ucli  to  be  had.  God  reveals  himself  only  in  a  spiritual  way,  to  the 
 indwelling  Sense  for  the  Divine.  This  last  they  have  not ;  and  the  reve- 
 lation of  the  Old  Testament  has  always  been  to  them  a  dead  letter ;  the 
 word  of  God  has  not  penetrated  their  inner  being.  To  this  very  naturally 
 follows  verse  39,  "  Ye  search  the  Sa-ipturcs,  for  in  them  ye  think  ye  have 
 eternal  life;"  which  life  only  Christ  can  impart.  In  opposition  to  the 
 most  recent  commentators,  I  must  think  this  the  true  connexion  of  the 
 passage. 
 
 '  We  may  remember  how  the  Jews  were  inclined  to  look  for  Theopha- 
 nies  (visible  appearances  of  the  Deity). 
 
 *  Cf  the  predictions,  in  the  synojitical  Gospels,  of  false  prophets  that 
 t^hould  deceive  the  people. 
 
 •*  For  Moses'  highest  calling  was  to  prepare  the  way  for  Mes.aiah.    Both 
 by  the  whole  stage  which  he  occupied  in  the  development  of  the  Divine 
 kingdom,  and  by  individual  prophetic  intimations  (like  Deut.  xviii.  15 
 Gen.  iii.  15,  in  their  spiritual  meaning),  he  had  pointed  out  the  Messiah. 
 
340  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 scliool master  to  lead  to  ChrUt),  and  they  would  have  discovered 
 the  element  of  prophecy  even  in  the  Pentateuch  itself.  Their 
 iulherence  to  the  letter  made  them  blind  to  the  Messiah  ;  but 
 theu"  carnal  mind  caused  tlieir  adherence  to  the  letter.  Justly, 
 then,  could  Christ  say  to  them,  "  Ye  strive  for  the  honour  of 
 Moses,  yet,  in  fact,  you  seek  your  own  honour  more  than  his, 
 and,  therefore,  do  not  believe  him  ;  how,  then,  can  you  believe 
 mi/  words,  wliich  must  appear  altogether  strange  and  new?" 
 
 From  this  time  the  mling  Pharisaic  party  persecuted  Chnst 
 as  a  most  dangeroiis  enemy,  who  exposed  their  sentiments  with 
 a  power  of  truth  not  to  be  controverted.  "  Sabbath-breaking 
 and  blasphemy"  were  the  pretexts  on  which  they  sought  his 
 condemnation. 
 
 CHAPTER  IX. 
 
 SECOND  COURSE  OF  EXTENDED  LABOURS  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Such  was  the  affiliation  of  parties  throughout  Judea,  that 
 the  opi)osition  which  the  Pharisees  stirred  Tip  against  Chi-ist  at 
 Jenisalem,  soon  made  itself  felt  throughout  the  country.  A 
 new  epoch  of  his  ministry  therefore  began. 
 
 The  charge  of  heresy  and  blasphemy  ha\'ing  spread  into 
 Galilee,  Christ  Avas  led  to  unfold,  in  a  connected  discoui-se,  the 
 relation  which  existed  between  the  old  stand-point  of  the  law 
 and  the  new  era  of  the  kingdom  of  God  introduced  by  himself. 
 His  exposition  was  adapted  to  the  caj^acities  of  his  hearers  at 
 the  time,  and,  therefore,  did  not  include  the  circle  of  tiiiths 
 wliich  was  afterward  to  be  revealed,  through  the  Holy  Spiiit, 
 bi  the  progi'ess  of  the  kingdom.     This  discourse  was  the 
 
 SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT. 
 
 INTRODUCTION'. 
 
 ^148. — (1.)  Phcce  and  Circumstawxs  of  the  Delhrnj  of  the  Sermon; 
 (2.)  Its  Subject- mattti;  viz.:  the  Khujdom  of  God  «.i  the  Aim  of  the  Old 
 Duspcnsaiion ;  (3.)  The  Two  Editiom,  viz.  Matthew'n  and  Luke's; 
 (4.)  Its  Pcivadiiif/  Rebuke  of  Carnal  Conceptions  of  the  McmaJiship. 
 
 In  the  cour.se  of  the  summer,  as  Jesus  was  returning  from 
 one  of  his  extensive  preachuig-tours  in  Galilee,  multitudes  fol- 
 lowed hiiu,  attracted  by  his  words  and  works.  Toward  even- 
 ing they  came  near  Capernaum,  and  a  few  of  the  company 
 hastened  thither  in  advance,  while  the  gi-eatcr  number  re- 
 miiined,  in  order  to  enter  the  city  in  company  with  the  INIa-ster. 
 The  inidtitude  stopped  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain  near  the 
 town;  but  Jesus,  seeking  solitude,  went  higher  u)»  the  ascent. 
 The  next  morning  lie  took  his  place  upon  the  declivity  of  the 
 
 i 
 
SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  241 
 
 moiuitain,  and,  drawing  his  twelve  disciples  into  a  narrower 
 r.ircle  abont  him,'-"  delivered  tlie  discourse.  It  was  intended  lijr 
 .ill  such  as  felt  drawn  to  follow  him;  to  teach  them  what  they 
 liad  to  expect,  and  what  would  be  expected  of  tliem,  in  bo 
 coniing  his  disciples;  and  to  expose  the  false  representations 
 tliat  had  been  made  upon  both  these  points. 
 
 The  connected  system  of  truths  unfolded  in  the  discour.se 
 was  intended  to  exhibit  to  the  people  the  kingdom  of  God  as 
 tlie  aim  of  the  Old  Dispensation ;  as  the  con.siimmation  for  v.-hich 
 that  dispensation  prepared  the  way.  The  Sermon  on  the 
 Moimt,  therefore,  forms  the  point  of  transition  from  the  Law 
 to  the  Gospel ;  Christianity  is  exhibited  in  it  as  Judaism  spi- 
 litualized  and  transtigiu'ed.  Tlie  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God  is 
 the  prominent  one ;  the  person  of  the  Theocratic  k'uui  is  subor- 
 dinate thereto.  The  discoiu-se  is  made  up  of  many  sententious 
 passages,  calculated,  separately,  to  impress  the  juemory  of  tlie 
 hearers,  and  remain  as  fruitful  germs  in  their  hearts;  but,  on 
 the  other  hand,  bound  together  as  parts  of  an  organic  whole. 
 This  was  admirably  adapted  to  preserve  the  discourse,  in  its 
 essential  featui'es,  uncomijited  in  transmission. 
 
 AccorcUngly,  we  find  the  two  editions  (Matt.  v.  vi.  vii. ;  and 
 Luke  \i.  20-29),  each  giving  the  body  of  the  discourse,  with 
 beginning,  middle,  and  end  ;  although  they  certainly  originated 
 in  (Ufferent  traditions  and  from  cUft'erent  hearers. 
 
 Comparing  the  two  copies,  we  find  Matthew's  to  be  more 
 full,  a.s  well  as  more  accurate  in  the  details;  it  also  gives 
 obvious  indications  of  its  Hebrew  origin.  But  the  original 
 document  of  Matthew  pa.ssed  through  the  hands  of  the  Greek 
 editor,  who  has  insei-ted  other  expressions  of  Christ  allied  to 
 those  in  the  organic  connexion  of  the  discourse,  but  spoken  on 
 other  occasions.  Assuming  that  what  is  common  to  Matthew 
 and  Luke  forms  the  body  of  the  sermon,  Ave  have  a  standard 
 for  deciding  what  passages  do,  and  what  do  not,  belong  to  it 
 as  a  connected  whole. 
 
 There  nins  through  the  Avhole  dLscourse,  implied  where  it  is 
 
 '■  If  Luke  \-i.  13  is  intended  to  recite  the  choosing  of  the  Apostles,  it  Ls 
 clear  that  it  is  done  only  incidentiilly,  .and  not  in  chronological  connexion, 
 Luke  does  not  say  that  the  discourse  waa  specially  directed  to  the  Apostles, 
 nor  is  there  a  trace  of  internal  evidence  to  that  effect.  The  discourses  of 
 Christ  that  icere  specially  intended  to  teach  the  Apostles  the  duties  of  theii* 
 calling  have  a  very  different  tone. 
 
 R 
 
242  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 not  directly  expressed,  a  i-ebiike  of  the  carnal  tendency  of  the 
 Jewish  mind,  as  displayed  in  its  notions  of  the  Messianic  king- 
 dom, and  of  the  requisites  for  participating  therein ;  the  latter, 
 indeed,  depending  entirely  upon  the  former.  It  was  most 
 important  to  convince  men  that  mectness  for  the  kingdom 
 depended  not  upon  alliance  to  the  Jewish  stem,  but  u]jon 
 alliance  of  the  heart  to  God.  Their  mode  of  thinking  had  to 
 be  modified  accordingly.  A  direct  attack  upon  the  usual  con- 
 ceptions of  the  nature  and  manifestation  of  the  Idngdom  would 
 have  been  repelled  by  those  who  were  unprepared  for  it ;  but 
 to  show  what  dispositions  of  heart  it  requii-ed,  was  to  strike 
 at  the  root  of  error.  In  his  mode  of  expression,  indeed,  Christ 
 adhered  to  the  Jewish  forms  (e.  g.  in  stating  the  beatitudes) ; 
 but  his  words  were  carefully  adapted  and  varied,  so  as  to  guai-d 
 against  sensuous  interpretations.  The  truth  wa.s  clearly  to  be 
 seen  through  the  veU. 
 
 I.    THE  BEATITUDES. 
 
 §  149. — Moral  RequUsiles  for  Enterinf)  the  Kingdom  of  God :  (1.)  P<yvei-ty  of 
 Spirit;  (2.)  Meehmss ;  (3.)  Hioujering  and  Thirstinrj  after  Righteousness. 
 
 Glancing  at  the  poor,  who  probably  comprised  most  of  his 
 congregation,  Christ  says,  "  Blessed  are  the  j^oor  in  spirit,  for 
 timrs  is  tlie  Jcindom  of  heaven.  Happy  are  they  who  feel  the 
 spiritual  "wretchedness  of  the  Theocratic  nation ;  who  long  after 
 the  true  riches  of  the  kingdom ;  who  have  not  stifled  the 
 higher  cra^"ings  of  then-  souls  by  worldly  delights,  by  confidence 
 in  their  Jewish  descent,  by  the  pride  of  Pharisaic  righteousness 
 and  wisdom;  but  are  conscious  of  their  spiritual  poverty,  of 
 their  lack  of  the  true  riches  of  the  Spirit  and  the  kingdom."** 
 
 <i  "Poverty  of  spirit"  includes  all  that  we  have  here  expressed.  De 
 Wctte  (in  Heidelb.  Bluditn,  vol.  iii.  pt.  2,  in  his  Comment,  de  morte  Jcsu 
 Christi  eccpiaioria,  in  his  Christliche  Littadehre,  pt.  i.  p.  246,  and  in  his 
 Commentary,  in  loc.)  lias  done  much  to  develop  the  idea  genetically.  He 
 has  rightly  called  attention  to  the  derivation  of  the  phrase  from  the  Old 
 Testament  views.  ''The  humble  citizen  of  the  fallen  Theocracy,  deeply 
 feeling  the  misery  of  the  Theocratic  nation,  bruised  in  spirit,  and  hoping 
 only  in  GOD,  is  'jjoor  in  spirit,'  in  contrast  with  the  haughty  blasphemer, 
 who  has  no  such  feeling  :  i:y,  ]V3N,  in  contrast  with  vvr\ ;  Isa.  bu.  1." 
 Applying  this  spiritually,  with  reference  to  the  inner  life,  we  naturally 
 infer  that  the  7rra)\;oi  T-<p  —vtv^iari  are  "those  who  feel  their  want  of  that 
 which  alone  can  s;itisfy  and  enrich  the  Spirit,"  and  so  all  the  rest  that  we 
 have  intimated.  Tlie  difference  in  these  explanations — easily  harmonized 
 — consists  only  in  the  reference  of  the  idea  to  its  genetic  liistorical  deve- 
 lopment in  the  one,  and  to  the  objective  Christian  meaning,  which  holds 
 good  for  all  ages.     Conf.  James  (i.  9,  10),  whose  epistle  accords  in  many 
 
SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  243 
 
 Sucli  are  they  to  whom  the  kingdom  of  God  belongs  ;  "  theirs," 
 says  Christ,  "is  the  kingdom  o/hea/ven;"  as,  in  certain  respects, 
 a  present  possession. 
 
 .(^•)  ... 
 As  the  pride  of  the  Phaiisee  is  joined  with  sternness,  so 
 
 poverty  of  spirit  is  attended  by  meekness  and  humility.  In  the 
 Sennon,  "  blessed  are  the  poor  in  spirit "  is  followed  by  ^  "  blessed 
 are  the  meek,  for  they  shall  inlierit  the  earth."  A  remarkable 
 contrast :  Dominion  is  promised  to  that  precise  disposition  of 
 heart  wliich  is  most  averse  to  it.  A  contrast,  too,  which  serves 
 to  poiat  out  the  peculiar  kijid  of  world-dominion  promised,  as 
 distinguished  fi-om  the  prevailing  Jewish  ideas  on  the  subject. 
 According  to  the  latter,  the  sceptre  of  the  Messianic  reign  over 
 the  heathen  nations  was  to  be  a  sceptre  of  iron  ;  according  to 
 the  former,  the  "gentle-spirited"  are  to  obtain  possession  of  the 
 earth. 
 
 It  is  true,  the  expression,  '•'shall  inherit  the  earth,"  is  in- 
 cluded (like  the  other  beatitudes)  in  the  more  general  one, 
 "  theirs  is  the  kingdom  of  heaven ; "  it  is  doubtless  true,  also, 
 that  the  plirase  was  not  imcommon  among  the  Jews ;  but  we 
 are  not,  therefore,  obliged  to  conclude  that  the  thought  in- 
 volved ia  it  is  only  the  general  one  of  "  the  blessedness  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God."  The  expression  has  a  significance  of  its 
 own.  The  "inheritance  of  the  earth"  is  that  world-dominion 
 ■which  Christians,  as  organs  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  are  ever 
 more  and  more  to  obtain,  as  the  kingdom  of  God  shall  win 
 increasing  sway  over  mankind  and  the  relations  of  society, 
 until,  in  its  final  consummation,  the  whole  earth  shall  own  its 
 dominion ;  and  the  Power  wliich  is  to  gain  this  world-dominion 
 is  IMeekness;  the  quiet  might  of  gentleness  it  is  with  which 
 God's  kingdom  is  to  subjugate  the  world. 
 
 Christ,  then,  further  develops  the  characteristics  of  poverty 
 of  spirit  in  the  beatitude:  "Messed  are  they  that  mourn  (that 
 ai'e  conscious  of  inward  woe),^r  they  shall  be  comforted."  That 
 this  mourning  is  not  grief  for  mere  outward  afflictions,  appears 
 from  the  next :  '•'  Blessed  are  they  ivhich  do  hunger  and  thirst 
 after  righteoicsness,  for  they  shall  beJUlcd"  (shall  find  their  wants 
 supplied  in  the  commimion  of  the  kingdom  of  God). 
 
 points  with  the  S>erraon  on  the  Mount,  and  follows  its  stand-point  in  the 
 development  of  Christianity. 
 
 *  In  the  order  of  the  Beatitudes,  I  follow  the  text  of  Lachmann,  which 
 gives  them  in  a  connexion  not  only  logical,  but  corresponding  with  their 
 aim  as  instruction. 
 
 r2 
 
244  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 !  150. — Moral  Result  of  Entering  tlte  Kingdom  of  God,  viz. :  The  "Pure  in 
 Heart  see  God." 
 
 The  preceding  beatitudes  point  out  the  moral  requi.sites  for 
 vatering  into  the  kingdom  of  GoD ;  but  it  must  not  be  inferred 
 jhat  they  are  demanded  only  on  entrance  into  it,  and  no  longer. 
 Rather,  as  oiu-  appropriation  of  the  kingdom  can  never  be  a 
 finished  act  while  we  remain  on  earth,  must  its  moral  requisites 
 continue,  nay,  continually  grow  in  strength.  "We  can  discern 
 ilready,  in  their  connexion,  the  peculiar  essence  of  Christianity. 
 The  Christian  is  conscious  of  no  moral  or  spiiitual  ability  of  his 
 Dwn,  needing  only  to  be  rightly  applied  to  gain  the  wished-for 
 Bnd ;  on  the  contrary,  he  feels  that  he  has,  of  khnself,  notliing 
 but  want  and  weakness,  insufficiency  and  wretchedness.  Al- 
 ready Christ  announces  redemption  as  liis  own  pecidiar  work. 
 
 Presupposing,  then,  that  those  who  are  endowed  w  ith  these 
 requisites  will  enter  his  kingdom,  satisfy  their  spiiitual  need, 
 and  share  in  his  saving  power,  Christ  describes  them,  in  conse- 
 cpence,  as,  '■'■'pure  in  heart"  (pure,  however,  not  according  to 
 the  standard  of  legal  piety).  And  to  those  who  possess  tliis 
 pmity  he  promises  that  "  t/tey  shall  see  God."  They  shaU  have 
 perfect  communion  with  Him,  and  that  complete  and  intuitive 
 knowledge  of  his  nature  which,  founded  in  such  communion, 
 forms  the  bliss  of  everlasting  life. 
 
 This  promise  refers,  it  is  true,  to  that  full  communion  with 
 God  which  shall  be  realized  in  eternal  life,  or  in  the  consum- 
 mation of  the  kingdom  of  God  only.  But  tliis  by  no  means 
 excludes  its  application  to  tluit  participation  in  the  kingdom 
 which  begins  dming  our  earthly  life;  just  as  the  preceding 
 promises  were  to  be  gi'adually  and  progressively  fulfilled  until 
 their  consummation.  The  prominent  connexion  of  thought  is, 
 that  the  knowledge  of  Divine  things  must  spring  from  the  life, 
 from  that  purity  of  heart  wliich  fits  men  for  communion  witli 
 God  ;  that  in  our  life  on  earth  we  are  to  be  prepared,  by  puri- 
 fication of  heart,  for  complete  Divine  knowledge.  For  the  rest, 
 this  promise  leads  over  to  those  which  relate  to  the  futui'e 
 evei'lasting  life  (the  consummation  of  the  kingdom). 
 
 §  151. — Moral  Relations  of  the  Member.'^  of  llie  Kiw/dom  to  their  Fdloicmcn  : 
 viz.  Tluij  are  "  Peace- m ulcers,"  and  "  Persecuted." 
 
 Christ  next  desciibes  certain  relations  in  which  the  members 
 of  his  kingdom  stand  to  others.  Inspired  by  love  and  meek- 
 ness, they  seek  peace  vnth  all  men.  But  as  th<!y  serve  a  holy 
 kingdom,  and  do  battle  with  the  prevalent  wickedness  of  men, 
 
SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  245 
 
 tliey  caunot  escape  persemtioiis.  Here,  again,  Christ  dissipates 
 the  hopes  with  which  the  Jews,  expecting  a  Messiah,  are  wont 
 to  flatter  themselves.  Instead  of  promising  to  his  followers  a 
 kingdom  of  earthly  glory  and  prosperity,  he  predicts  for  them 
 manifold  persecutions,  such  as  the  prophets  of  old  had  suffered 
 for  the  cause  of  God. 
 
 They  shall  suffer  "  for  righteousness  "  sake  ;  but  he  then 
 passes  over,  from  the  general  idea  of  the  kingdom  (righteous- 
 iiess — holiness)  to  his  own  person  :  "  Blessed  are  ye  wli^n  imn 
 shall  revile  you,  &c.  for  my  sake.'"  Then-  very  relations  to  ffim 
 were  to  draw  upon  them  all  manner  of  slanders  and  calumnies 
 thus  presupposing  that  the  prevailing  Jewish  opinions  would 
 be  opposed  by  his  disciples.^ 
 
 The  accompanpng  beatitudes  are  also  full  of  meaning 
 "  Blessed  are  the  peace-makers,  for  they  shall  be  called'^  tht 
 children  of  God"  that  is,  shall  be  invested  wdth  the  dignity  anc 
 the  rights  of  children  of  GoD.  This  promise  refers  partly  tc 
 the  present  life,  and  partly,  in  its  highest  meaning,  to  th( 
 future.''     "  Blessed  are  they  which  are  persecuted,  for  theirs  v 
 
 tJie.  kingdom  of  heaven," "  For  great  is  ymir  reward  it 
 
 lieavenr 
 
 The  "  reward  "  may  be  understood,  even  apart  from  whai 
 Clirist  has  said  elsewhere,  from  the  connexion  of  this  discourse 
 itself'  The  first  beatitudes  show  that  we  have  no  claim  tc 
 the  kingdom  but  our  humble  wants  and  susceptible  hearts 
 the  idea  of  'tnerit,  therefore,  claiming  a  reward  as  its  due,  i; 
 wholly  out  of  the  question.  The  reward  is  a  gracious  gift 
 But  when  grace  has  admitted  us  into  the  kingdom,  our  parti 
 cipation  in  its  "  blessedness  "  depends  upon  our  beaiing  in  th( 
 straggles  to  which  our  membership  in  the  kingdom  expose: 
 us  on  earth.  The  "  reward,"  tlierefore,  designates  the  I'elatioi 
 between  the  Divine  gifts  and  our  subjective  worth  ;  the  gifti 
 are  proportioned   to   the  work  which  the   members   of  th( 
 
 f  This  aorees  very  well  with  the  point  of  time  to  which  we  have  referrei 
 the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  i.  e.  the  period  when  the  Pharisees  began  ti 
 persecute  Christ  and  his  disciples.  Moreover,  his  foresiglit  at  that  time  o 
 the  hatred  he  would  excite,  and  the  persecutions  his  followers  would  suffer 
 combined  with  the  fact  that  throughout  the  discourse  there  is  not  th 
 slightest  hint  of  a  purpose  to  triumph  over  his  foes  by  an  overAvhelminj 
 miracidous  power — nay,  that  the  whole  spirit  of  the  discourse  is  oppose( 
 to  cuch  a  purpose — agrees  very  well  with  his  anticipating,  at  the  time,  tha 
 he  should  die  in  fulfilling  his  calling. 
 
 s  The  name  is  the  outward  sign  of  the  thing — its  manifestation  aud  con 
 firmation.  ^  Indicated  in  K\t}dJ}(jovTai,  especially. 
 
 '  Cf  Dc  Wette's  excellent  remarks  on  Matt.  v.  12. 
 
246  SECOND  GENEKAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 kingdom,  as  such,  have  to  do.J  It  is  obvious,  then,  that  no 
 external  reward  is  meant — no  acting  vnth  a  view  to  such — 
 for  these  ideas  are  foreign  to  the  nature  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God  itself 
 
 What,  then,  is  the  "  reward  1"  It  is,  that  the  wan|;s  of  our 
 higher  nature  shall  be  satisfied ;  that  we  shall  enjoy  perfect 
 communion  with  God,  and,  in  consequence,  perfect  knowledge 
 of  him ;  that  we  shall  have,  and  exercise,  the  perfect  privilege  of 
 sons  of  God.  It  is  nothing  but  the  perfect  realization  of  what 
 is  implied  in  "  the  kingdom,"  ''  the  children  of  God,"  "  the 
 Divine  Life."  In  our  struggles  for  the  kingdom,  we  must 
 direct  our  eye  to  the  goal  of  the  consummation  ;  must  feel 
 that  we  struggle  for  no  vain  ideal.  The  two  expressions 
 "  reward  in  Iieaven"  and  "  inherit  the  earth,"  mutually  illus- 
 trate each  other  ;  the  latter  is  to  be  a  spintnal,  and  not  a 
 carnal,  Jewish,  world-dominion  ;  the  former  does  not  betoken 
 a  locality/,  but  a  perfected  communion  of  life  ^vith  God,  i.  e.  a 
 Divine  life  brought  to  perfection. 
 
 TI.  INFLUENCE  OF  THE  MEMBERS  OF  THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD  IN  RENEWING  THE 
 
 WORLD. 
 
 §  152. — The  Disciples  of  Christ  the  ''Light"  and  "  Salt"  of  the  Earth. 
 Christ  then  points  out  to  his  disciples  the  regenerating 
 influence  which  the  qualities  before  described  must  exert 
 when  exhibited  to  the  world.  His  followers  are  "  tJie  light 
 oftlie  loorld,"  which,  where  it  exists,  cannot  be  hid,  but  must 
 shine  forth.  They  are  to  become  "  tJie  salt "  of  mankind.  As 
 salt  preserves  from  decay  and  corruption  everything  to  which 
 it  is  applied,  so  Christians  are  to  incite  mankind  to  live  ac- 
 cording to  their  high  destiny ;  are  to  impart  freshness  to  hu- 
 manity, and  to  preserve  it  from  the  corraption  into  which  it 
 naturally  passes,  by  the  power  of  theii'  higher  principle  of  life. 
 The  course  of  the  human  race,  apart  fi'om  Clmstianity,  is 
 always  downward;  all  its  civilization  ends  in  barbarism.  It  is 
 for  Christians  to  preserve  the  spiritual  life  of  mankind  fresh 
 and  undecayed. 
 
 But  if  tlie  salt  lose  its  saltness — becomes  stale  and  worthless 
 — whereivith  slutll  it  be  salted  ?  Where-A-ith  shall  the  Divine 
 life  be  preserved  in  those  to  whom  Christianity,  tlie  soiu'ce  of 
 the  reanimating,  freshening  power,  has  been  dead?  In  that 
 case,  those  that  should  stand  upon  the  highest  point  of  human 
 development  will  sink  to  the  lowest ;  it  is  good  far  nothing,  hut 
 
 ^  Cf.  NitzcKs  striking  observations  on  the  Divine  Justice  and  Rewards, 
 System  der  Christlichen  Lehre,  p.  115,  2nd  ed. 
 
SERMON  ON  TUE  MOUNT.  247 
 
 to  he  cast  out  and  trodden  underfoot  o/nien.  Clu-jst  knew  that- 
 the  new  element  of  life  wliicli,  through  him,  was  given  to  hu- 
 manity, had  power  to  keep  it  ever  fresh  and  living;  but  he 
 knew  also  the  impure  influences  to  which  it  would  be  liable. 
 These  words  of  his  declare  the  fate  of  Christianity,  whenever 
 it  degenerates  into  dead  forms  and  outward  show.  EQstory 
 affords  the  fullest  and  saddest  commentary  upon  this  prophetic 
 passage. 
 
 in.    THE  LAW  OF  CHRISTIAN  LIFE  THE  FULFILMENT  OF  THE  OLD  LAW. 
 
 §153. — Fulfilling  of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets :  (1.)  General  View  ;  (2.)  Par- 
 ticular Exposition  ;  (3.)  Demand  for  a  Higher  Obedience  than  that  of  the 
 Pharisees.     (Matt.  v.  17-20.) 
 
 After  commanding  his  disciples  to  become  the  "salt"  of  the 
 earth,  and  to  "  let  their  light  so  shine  before  men  that  they 
 might  see  their  good  woi'ks,  and  glorify  then-  Father  in  heaven," 
 it  remained  for  him  to  set  vividly  before  them,  by  specific  illus- 
 trations, the  mode  in  which  they  were  to  let  their  light  shine 
 through  theu'  actions;  which  would  distinguish  them  palpably 
 from  those  who  then  passed  for  holy  men  among  the  Jews. 
 
 This  gave  him  occasion  to  refute  the  charge  spread  abroad 
 by  the  Phai'isees,  that  he  aimed  to  subvert  the  authority  of  the 
 law.  But,  instead  of  confining  himself  to  a  mere  refutation,  he 
 took  a  course  conforming  with  the  dignity  of  his  character,  and 
 justified  himself  in  a  positive  way,  by  unfolding  the  relation  in 
 which  Hs  New  Creation  stood  to  the  stand-point  of  the  Old 
 Covenant.  He  incorporated  this,  moreover,  very  closely  with 
 the  practical  purpose  of  the  whole  discourse  (v.  17,  seq.).  He 
 charactemes  the  new  law  of  life  by  distinct  and  separate  traits. 
 He  proclaims  the  new  law  as  the  fulfilment  of  the  old.  For 
 since  the  old  law  proceeds  from  the  commandment  "to  love 
 God  above  all  things,  and  our  neighbour  as  ourselves,"  it  con- 
 tains the  eternal  law  of  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  and  only  where 
 love  niles  the  whole  Hfe  can  we  secure  this  object,  which  the 
 whole  religious  law  of  the  Old  Testament  aimed  at,  but  could 
 not  realize.  "  On  tliese  two  coimnandinents  (says  Christ,  Matt, 
 xxii.  40)  liang  all  the  laio  and  the  prophets"  i.  e.  the  whole  Old 
 Testament.  They  could  not  be  fulfilled  from  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment stand-point,  because  men  needed,  in  order  to  fulfil  them, 
 a  new  life,  proceeding  from  the  spirit  of  love ;  and  this  Christ 
 came  to  impart.  He  presupposes  its  existence  in  those  for 
 whom  he  communicates  the  new  law. 
 
 Moreover,  although  the  everlasting  Theocratic  law  coidd  be 
 
248  SECOND  GENERAL  3IIXISTRV  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 derived  from  the  two  commandments  specified,  yet  its  spirit, 
 tied  down  to  tlie  stand-point  of  the  political  Theocracy,  and 
 ci'ibbed  in  its  contracted  fonns,  could  not  attain  its  free  and  full 
 development.  But  Christ,  by  freeing  it  from  this  bondage  of 
 forms,  brought  it  into  complete  development,  not  only  in  the 
 consciousness,  but  in  the  practical  life.  In  this  respect,  then, 
 he  fulfilled  the  law;  and  this  was  the  object  for  which  he  ap- 
 peared.*^ 
 
 (•■2.). 
 Christ  begins,  therefore,  by  saying,  lluak  not  that  I  am  come 
 to  destroy  tlie  law  and  tlis  jy^'opliets;  I  am  not  come  to  destroy, 
 but  to  fulJiU  By  this  we  are  to  understand  the  whole  of  the 
 Old  Testament  religion ;  he  came  to  annul  neither  of  its  chief 
 di\-isions,  as  his  general  mission  was  (last  clause  of  v.  17'")  "  not 
 
 ^  Cf.  pp.  94,  95. 
 
 '  Gff'orer  smaevts  {"HeiUc/e  Sage,"  ii.  84,  seq.)  that  these  words  were  not 
 Christ's,  but  were  more  likely  put  into  his  mouth  by  the  later  Judaists 
 in  their  controversies  with  Paul ;  an  opinion  adopted  also  by  D)\  jRoeth 
 {Epist.  ad  Hehr.  non  ad  Hehrceos,  sed  ad  Chistianon  fienere  (jcntiles  scriptam 
 ease,  Francof.  1836,  p.  214).  The  former  writer  thinks  that  these  striking 
 words,  had  tliey  existed,  would  have  been  used  against  Paul  by  the 
 strenuous  advocates  of  the  continued  validity  of  the  Mosaic  law  ;  which, 
 he  infers,  they  did  not  do,  from  the  silence  of  Paul's  epistles  on  the  subject. 
 "We  are  comjjelled  directly  to  contradict  this  assertion  ;  it  is  refuted  suffi- 
 ciently by  the  close  connexion  of  the  words  with  the  current  of  thought  in 
 the  context.  Paul  understood  their  import  too  well  to  find  any  embar- 
 rassment from  them  in  his  controversies  with  the  Judaists.  If  they  were 
 quoted  against  him,  he  refuted  the  false  use  made  of  them  by  his  develop- 
 ment of  the  whole  doctrine,  rather  than  by  separate  and  detailed  quotation, 
 as  was  his  custom  in  controversy. 
 
 '"  Dc  Wette,  in  explaining  the  17th  verse,  attempts  to  prove,  from  Matt, 
 vli.  12,  and  xxii.  40,  that  the  "law  and  prophets"  were  conceived,  also,  as 
 the  source  of  the  moral  law,  and  deems  that  the  words  are  !iere  to  be  taken 
 only  in  that  sense,  with  no  reference  at  all  to  the  proplietic  element  of  the 
 Old  Testament.  I  cannot  agree  with  him.  Even  the  passages  which  he 
 adduces  tlo  not  refer  exclusively  to  the  moral  contents  of  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment, but  to  the  Old  Testament  in  its  whole  nature  and  extent.  Christ 
 designates — as  the  end  and  aim  to  which  the  whole  Old  Testament  tends 
 — only  the  qiiintessence  of  the  whole  Theocracy,  religious  as  well  as  moral, 
 viz.  :  the  spirit  of  lore  :  as  also  the  end  and  aim  of  Redemption  is  to  make 
 love  the  ruling  principle  of  man's  nature.  De  Wctte  argues  that  "no  one 
 of  his  hearers  could  have  imagined  that  Clhrist  wislied  to  be  received  a^i 
 Messiah  iii  opposition  to  all  the  prophecies  of  tic  ProjiJiets  ;  so  he  speaks 
 afterward  only  of  the  fulfilling  of  the  lan-y  Now  the  question  is,  was 
 Christ  speaking  against  a  misunderstanthng  of  his  disciples,  or  against  an 
 accusation  of  his  enemies  '<-.  If  the  latter,  as  we  suppose,  he  had  good  call 
 to  prove  that  his  ministry  was  opposed  neither  to  the  "law"  nor  to  the 
 "  jirophets,"  and  that  he  would  show  himself  to  be  Messiah  Ijy  fulfilling 
 both.  His  subsequently  making  one  part  (the  law)  particularly  prominent 
 is  no  proof  that  he  had  not  both  in  his  mind  before.     Moreover,  even  Z>c 
 
SER5I0N  OX  THE  MOUXT.  249 
 
 to  destroy,  but  to  fulfil."  He  adds,  in  a  still  stronger  aver- 
 ment (v.  18),  that  not  one  jot  or  tittle  of  the  law  should  lose 
 its  validity,  b\it  that  all  have  its  fulfilment,  until  the  consum- 
 mation of  the  kingdom  of  God.'^  This  last  \vill  be  the  great 
 "  fulfilment,"  for  vrluch  all  pre%-ious  stages  of  the  kingdom  -w-ero 
 but  preparatory. 
 
 Here,  again,  it  is  shown  that,  in  tliis  sense,  "  destro}'ing" 
 and  "  fulfilling"  are  con-elative  ideas.  The  consummation  of 
 the  kingdom  ■s\-ill  be  the  '■'/iJJiUijig'"  of  all  wliich  was  contained, 
 in  germ,  m  the  preparatory  stand-point ;  it  "will,  on  the  other 
 hand,  be  the  *'  destroying''  of  all  that  was,  in  itself,  only  prepa- 
 ratory. In  pointing  to  this  consummation  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God  as  the  final  "  fulfilling"  of  all,  Christ  at  the  same  time 
 fixes  the  final  end  for  the  fulfilment  of  all  the  promises  con- 
 nected with  the  beatitudes.  Thus  the  connexion  -with  the 
 words  spoken  before  is  closely  presen'ed.° 
 
 ^^■^ 
 Passing  from  the  Old  Testament  in  general  to  the  "law"  in 
 
 particular,  and  applying  to  it  the  general  proposition  that  he 
 
 had  advanced,   Christ  commands  his  disciples  (v.  19,  20)  to 
 
 fidfil  the  law  in  a  far  higher  sense  than  those  did  who  were  at 
 
 that  time  considered  patterns  of  righteousness.     In  proportion 
 
 as  each  fidfiUed  the  law,  was  he  to  have  a  higher  or  a  lower 
 
 place  in  the  development  of  the  kingdom  (v.  19).     The  prui- 
 
 ciple  of  life  which  they  all  possessed  in  common  (the  essential 
 
 requisite  for  fulfilUng  any  of  the  demands  of  the  sermon)  by  no 
 
 means  precluded  difierences  of  degree  ;  it  might  penetrate  one 
 
 more  thoroughly  than  another,  and  display  itself  m  a  more  (or 
 
 less)  complete  fulfilUng  of  the  law.     Christ  illustrates  the  same 
 
 doctrine  in  the  parable  of  the  Sower. 
 
 Such,  then,  and  so  supei-ior  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law  which 
 
 Christ   requii'es  of  all  who  woidd    belong  to    liis  kingdom  : 
 
 Except  your  righteousness  sludl  exceed  the  righteousness  of  tlic 
 
 scribes  and  Pharisees,  ye  shall  in  no  case  enter  into  the  kingdom, 
 
 of  Heaven.^ 
 
 Wdtc  has  to  admit  that  the  prophetic  element  is  alluded  to  in  v.  1 S.  We 
 infer,  therefore,  that  both  "law"  and  ''  prophets"  are  referred  to  from  the 
 becjinning.  "  Cf.  Tlioluck  on  v.  18. 
 
 '^  By  assuming  this  relation  to  the  law  and  the  prophets,  Christ  gave 
 himself  out  as  Messiah.  How  untenable,  then,  is  Strauss  s  assertion  that 
 at  that  time  Jesus  had  ixot  decidedly  presented  himself  as  Messiah  !  We 
 ha%'e  shown  that  the  pas.sage  is  too  closely  bound  up  with  the  organism  of 
 tlie  whole  sermon  to  be  considered  an  interpolation. 
 
 P  The  yap  in  verse  20  ob\'iously  introduces  a  confinnation  of  the  pre- 
 
250  SECOND  CEXERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 §  154. — "  PvlfilliTig  of  the  Law"  in  the  Hi'jhcr  Sense. —  General  Conirast 
 between  the  Juridical  and  Moral  Stand-points. 
 
 In  verses  22-48  Christ  illustrates,  in  a  number  of  special 
 examples,  the  sense  in  which  the  law  was,  not  "  destroyed," 
 but  "  fulfilled"  through  liim ;  also  the  sense  in  which  the 
 members  of  his  kingdom  were  to  signalize  themselves  by  zeal 
 in  fulfilling  the  law ;  and  also  (but  here  subordinately)  the 
 difierence  between  their  righteousness — answering  to  their 
 position  in  the  new  development  of  the  Divine  kingdom — and 
 the  seeming  righteousness  of  the  Pharisees. 
 
 In  these  illustrations  he  contrasts  the  eternal  Theocratic  law 
 •svith  the  political  Theocratic  law ;  the  absolute  law  with  the 
 particular  law  of  Moses.  Although  the  former  lay  at  the 
 foimdation  of  the  latter,  it  could  not,  in  that  limited  and  con- 
 tracted system,  unfold  and  display  itself;  and  it  could  not  be 
 fidly  developed  until  the  shell,  the  restraining  form,  which  had 
 cribbed  and  confined  the  spirit,  was  broken  and  destroyed."! 
 
 ceding  verse  ;  and  this  opposes  Ohhausens  view  of  the  connexion,  although 
 he  has  well  marked  the  distinction  between  verses  19  and  20. 
 
 1  I  agree  with  the  Greek  and  Socinian  interpreters  in  thinking  that 
 Christ  means  here  not  merely  the  Pharisaic  interpretations  of  the  law,  but 
 also  the  legal  stand-point  in  general.  Tliis  follows  necessarily,  (1)  from 
 the  connexion  as  we  have  unfolded  it ;  (2)  from  the  fact  that  he  quotes  the 
 commandments  in  their  literal  Old  Testament  form.  (Even  "  tJwu  shalt 
 hate  thy  enemy"  (v.  43),  though  not  found  literally  in  the  commandment, 
 is  implied  in  the  preceding  positive  commandment,  as  limited  by  the  par- 
 ticular Theocratic  stand-point)  ;  (3)  because  tppsOt)  rolg  apxaioic  (v.  33) 
 cannot  well  be  interpreted  otherwise  than  "it  has  been  said  to  the  men  of 
 old"  (the  fathers,  hence  during  the  Mosaic  promulgation  of  the  law).  Had 
 Christ  referred  to  the  statutes  of  the  elders  (which  would  not  agree  so  well 
 with  the  whole  form  of  the  expression  either),  he  woidd  have  used  irpeff- 
 SvTtpoiQ,  as  also  De  Wette  acknowledges.  Tholuck's  argument,  of  an  anti- 
 thesis between  dpxaioiQ  and  jyiJ  is  not  to  the  point ;  the  connexion  does 
 not  require  such  an  antithesis.  The  opposition  is  not  in  the  subject  of  the 
 commandment,  but  in  its  conception.  Christ  recognized  the  voice  of  God 
 in  the  Old  Testament,  and  Moses  as  sent  of  God  ;  but  he  wished  to  oppose 
 the  fu/jll/in;/  form  of  the  new  legislation  to  the  narrow  and  deficient  form 
 of  Old  Testament  legislation,  which  belonged  to  a  temporary  and  prepara- 
 tory opoth.  H.id  Christ  had  the  subject  of  the  commandment  in  view, 
 Tolr  rtpyaioir  would  naturally  have  preceded  tppiGij ;  while  the  present 
 collocation  of  tlie  words  indicates  that  the  opposition  is  instituted  between 
 what  was  said  in  earlier  times  and  what  was  then  said  by  him.  Tlio  pro- 
 minence tliat  ho  assigns  to  the  Pfcarisaical  concejition  and  apjdication  of 
 the  law  connects  very  well  with  this  opposition  to  the  old  law  in  gLiieral ; 
 for  the  Pharisees  e3]>eci:illy  refused  to  admit  the  spirit  to  pa'^s  from  the  old 
 law  and  find  its  fulfilment  in  the  new,  but  adhered  to  the  Ictta-  in  a  one- 
 sided and  exclusive  way.  Pharisaism,  in  a  word,  was  the  culmination  of 
 the  old  stand-point,  adhering  to  the  letter,  and  estranged  from  the  spirit. 
 
SEKMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  2.51 
 
 The  opposition  is  between  the  law  as  bearing  only  upon  the 
 overt  act,  and  the  law  as  bearing  upon  the  heart,  and  fidiilled 
 in  it ;  between  the  juridical  and  the  moral  stand-point. 
 
 We  infer,  then,  as  a  rule  in  interpreting  the  following  sepa- 
 rate precepts,  that  oudward  acts  are  to  be  taken  as  vivid 
 exhibitions  of  a  required  inward  disposition,  and  are  to  be 
 understood  literally  only  when  they  are  the  necessary  expres- 
 sion of  such  a  state  of  heai't. 
 
 §  155. — Fulfilling  of  the  Law  in  the  Higher  Sense. — Particidar  Examples, 
 viz.  {1.)  Murder ;  (2.)  Adultery;  (3.)  Divorce;  (4.)  Perjury;  (5.)  Jie- 
 venge;  (6.)  National  Exclusivcness. 
 
 (1.)  The  law  condemns  the  murderer  to  death.  But  the 
 Gospel  sentences  even  him  who  is  angry"^  with  his  brother. 
 The  passion  which,  when  full-blown,  causes  murder,  is  punished 
 in  the  bud  of  revengeful  feeUng,  whether  concealed  in  the 
 heart  or  sho%\Ti  in  abusive  words ^  (v.  22). 
 
 (2.)  The  law  of  tlie  particular  Theocracy  condemns  the 
 adulterer.  But  the  law  of  Chi-ist  condemns  the  germ  of  evil 
 passion  in  the  husband,  as  the  soui'ce  of  adultery*  (v.  27). 
 
 '  I  must  agree  with  those  who  reject  aiKJ}  (v.  22).  Thus  to  lessen  the 
 force  of  the  law  certainly  does  not  harmonize  with  the  connexion. 
 
 '  It  seems  to  me  that  the  words  "og  0  dv  uizy  t<1>  dSt\(p<i>  avrov'  paKa, 
 tpoxog  icFTai  r<p  uvvecpif^ "  should  be  taken  away  from  this  passage. 
 Apart  from  these,  the  connexion  is  perfect  and  oljvious.  Kpimg= judg- 
 ment, condemnation,  its  common  meaning  in  the  New  Testament ;  and  so 
 ykevva,  with  another  word.  Degrees  of  violation  of  the  Theocratic  law 
 nowhere  appear  in  this  connexioa ;  on  the  contrary,  it  teaches  that  the 
 smallest  violation,  as  well  as  the  greatest,  involves  a  disposition  of  heart 
 opposed  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  which  demands  holiness  of  heart.  Reviling 
 is  purposely  put  side  by  side  with  murder,  because  the  disposition  that 
 inspires  the  former  leads,  when  further  expanded,  to  the  latter  ;  the  reviler 
 is  a  murderer  before  that  bar  which  looks  only  at  the  heart.  A  gradation 
 between  pa/ca  and  fitopoQ  violates  both  the  aim  and  connexion  of  the  dis- 
 course, and  seems  entirely  unbecoming  its  dignity.  Moreover,  we  should 
 then  have  to  look  for  a  gradation  in  the  punishment,  which,  again,  is 
 inconsistent  with  the  connexion.  The  "Sanhedrim"  brings  us  before  the 
 Jewish  civil  jurisdiction — the  politico-Theocratical  stand-point — the  very 
 thing  to  which  Clirist  opposes  himself  throughout  the  discourse.  And  how 
 is  yitvva,  in  that  case,  to  be  distinguished  from  Kpiair  ?  In  what  relation 
 does  the  mention  of  the  SanJicdrim  stand  to  KpiaiQ  and  yuvva  ?  Things 
 entirely  incompatible  are  here  brought  together.  All  attempts  to  solve 
 the  difficulty  lead  to  forced  and  unten.-vble  interpretation.  The  fact  that 
 paKo.  means  just  the  same  thing  as  fnopk,  confirms  the  supposition  that  the 
 clause  in  question  was  introduced  by  the  Greek  translator  as  another 
 version  of  the  following,  and  original,  clause  in  Matthew's  Hebrew. 
 
 '  Verses  23-26  are  among  those  expressions  of  Christ  which  we  suppose 
 to  have  been  uttered  elsewhere,  and  transferred  to  this  connexion  from 
 their  affinity  of  subject.     (Cf.  v.  25,  26,  with  Luke  xii.  58,  59.).    So  of 
 
252  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IX  GALILEE. 
 
 (3.)  As  Christ  thus  ah-eady  considers  mariiage  as  the  imion, 
 in  part,  of  two  persons  of  different  sexes,  he  takes  occasion  to 
 develop  still  further  liis  opposition  to  the  stand-point  of  the 
 Mosaic  law  in  I'egard  to  tliis  relation.^' 
 
 The  Mosaic  law,  intended  for  a  rude  people,  who  were  to  be 
 cultivated  by  degrees,  allowed  divorce  ;  seeking  to  place  some 
 restraints,  at  least,  upon  unlimited  wilfidness.  Political  legisla- 
 tion must  ada])t  itself  to  the  material  on  wliich  it  has  to  act.^' 
 But  the  law  of  Christ  sets  forth  tlie  moral  idea  of  marriage  in 
 its  full  sti'ictness,  and  demands  that  its  communion  of  life  shall 
 be  indissoluble.  N'othing  l^ut  the  actual  adultery  of  one  of  the 
 parties  can  dissolve  the  tie,  and  leave  the  innocent  one  at 
 liberty  to  many.^ 
 
 (4.)  The  Mosaic  law  prohibits  -perjury,  and  maintains  the 
 sanctity  of  oaths.  But  the  law  of  Clu-ist  demands  that  yes  and 
 no  shall  take  tlie  place  of  all  other  confirmation.  '•'  W/uitsoever 
 is  more  titan  tliese^  cometh  of  evil,  i.  e.  testifies  to  a  want  of  that 
 
 v.  29,  30  ;  Christ  is  treating  of  the  mere  legislation,  not  of  the  element  of 
 self-discipline  as  such. 
 
 "  Polygamy  was  not  yet  wholly  forbidden  among  the  Jews,  as  appears 
 from  Jostphtis.  Speaking  in  reference  to  the  polygamy  of  Herod,  he  says  : 
 "  TTCirpLov  yap  iv  ravT<^  irXsioGiv  ijiuv  mn'oiKtlu."  (Archteol.  xviii.  1,  2.) 
 And  Justin  casts  up  to  the  Jewish  doctors  that,  even  in  his  time,  '"  o'lrivtr 
 Krti  /^«XP'  ''''''  '^^'^  Tt(T(TapaQ  Kal  irivTt  tx'"'  'V"?  yvvalKaq  fKaffTov 
 ffvyX<^pov(n."  (Dial.  c.  Tryph.  Jud.  ed.  Colon.  363,  E.)  Still  we  may  infer 
 that  the  Jewish  schools  in  Christ's  time  recognized  monogamy  as  the  onl>- 
 lawful  marriage,  from  his  saying  nothing  expressly  on  the  sul>ject,  while 
 the  precepts  that  he  delivers  presuppose  it. 
 
 *  The  (TKXijpoKapcia  rov  Xaov.     Matt.  xix.  8. 
 
 "  I  cannot  agree  with  those  who  would  make  this  law  an  outward  one 
 by  legislation ;  the  discourse  aims  at  the  heart,  and  its  precepts  can  be 
 fulfilled  in  the  life  only  fi-om  tlie  heart.  Tliey  hold  good  only  for  thoee 
 wlio  recognize  Christ  as  their  Lord  from  fi'ee  coinaction,  and  are  led  by  his 
 Spirit ;  and  who,  therefore,  find  in  them  only  the  outward  expression  of 
 the  inward  Spirit.  Tlie  state  can  no  more  realize  these  laws  than  it  can 
 make  Christians  or  create  holiness.  Its  laws  must  be  adapted  to  the 
 (TKXiipoKapcia  rov  Xaov.  The  attempt  to  accomplish,  by  legislative  sanc- 
 tion, what  redemption  alone  can  do,  would  create  a  sort  of  stunted,  Chinese 
 life,  but  nothing  better.  Precisely  because  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is 
 the  Marjna  Oharta  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  it  is  not  fit  for  a  state  law.  On 
 the  other  hand,  I  differ  fi-om  those  who  suppose  that  Christ  alluded  only 
 to  the  then  existing  fonn  of  Jewish  divorce,  which  <lid  not  require  legal 
 investigation  and  decision.  Tlie  moral  idea  which  Christ  developed  had  a 
 more  than  temporary  bearing. 
 
 ^  The  formulas  in  v.  34,  35,  3G  {not  properly  oaths,  as  they  do  not  take 
 God  to  witness)  illustrate  .still  more  forcibly  Christ's  purjiose  to  banish 
 from  his  kingdom  e\ery  affirmation  but  yes  and  no.  Had  he  not  mentioned 
 them,  his  hearers  miglit  have  thought  that  he  referred  oidy  to  the  imme- 
 diate invocation  of  Jehovah  to  witners.s,  which  all  pious  Jews  sought  to 
 
SERMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  I'oJ 
 
 dLspo.sitioii  of  heart  whicli  every  member  of  his  kingdom  ought 
 to  possess ;  a  want  of  that  thorough  truthfiilness  which  makes 
 eveiy  other  affirmation  superfluous,  and  of  the  mutual  confi- 
 dence that  depends  upon  it. 
 
 (5.)  The  Mosaic  law,  moreover,  coiTesponding  to  the  ci^il 
 law,  admits  of  retaliation,  like  for  like.  But  the  law  of  Chi-ist 
 so  completely  shuts  out  the  desii-e  of  revenge,  that  it  creates  in 
 its  subjects  a  disposition  to  sufter  all  injury  rather  than  to 
 return  evil  for  e^-il  (v.  39). 
 
 (G.)  The  old  law  enjoined  the  "  love  of  one's  neighbour ; " 
 but  none  were  regarded  as  "  neighbours  "  but  members  of  the 
 Theocratic  commiuiity,  and,  therefore,  the  law  implied  "liatred" 
 of  the  enemies  of  that  community  as  enemies  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God.  The  law  of  Christ,  on  the  contrary,  enjoins  love  with- 
 out limit ;  y  a  love  that  takes  into  its  wdde  embrace  enemies 
 and  persecutors,  yea,  even  those  who,  as  enemies  of  the  king- 
 dom of  God,  persecute  its  members;  a  love  which  not  only 
 impels  us  to  do  them  good,  but  is  so  absolutely  exclusive  of 
 even  the  germ  of  hatred,  as  to  urge  us  to  y^ray  for  them.  The 
 children  of  God  are  to  be,  like  their  heavenly  Father,  perfect 
 in  love  (v.  45,  48).     And  the  perfect  love  of  God  does  not 
 
 avoid,  and  instead  of  which  these  very  formulas,  which  helped  those  tliat 
 were  disposed  to  gloss  over  a  perjury,  were,  in  fact,  invented.  This  is 
 enough  to  refute  what  GoscJiel  says  (iiber  den  Eld,  Berlin,  1837,  pp.  118, 
 119),  in  order  to  prove  that  Christ's  precept  was  not  directed  against  oaths 
 in  general.  There  was  no  necessity  that  he  should  define  the  proper  sense 
 of  an  oath  ;  everybody  understood  it ;  but  it  would  have  been  by  no 
 means  so  obvious  to  his  liearers  that  he  condemned  also  the  common  for- 
 mulas, invented  out  of  reverence  for  the  Di\nne  name.  (PkUo,  De  Special. 
 Legib.  §  1.)  He  condemns  them  especially  for  the  reason  that  it  is  incon- 
 sistent with  the  condition  of  dependent  creatures  to  appeal  to  the  creature 
 in  confirming  an  averment.  There  remained  nothing  but  the  true  oath — 
 the  appeal  to  Almighty  God — and  this,  also,  he  forbade  ;  yes  and  no  were 
 to  suffice.  Ooschcl  says  (p.  116),  "As  Christ  came  not  to  abolish,  but  to 
 fulfil  the  law,  the  law  of  the  oath  was  not  to  be  abolislied,  but  fulfilled." 
 True  ;  just  as  the  law,  "  Thou  slialt  not  kill,"  is  fulfilled  by  avoiding 
 emotions  of  liatred  ;  just  as  the  law  of  the  Sabbath  is  fulfilled  in  conse- 
 crating every  tlay  to  God.  So  yes  and  iio  are  bonds  as  sacred  for  tlie 
 Christian  as  an  oatli  to  other  men. 
 
 y  The  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians  (as  Riickert  has  remarked)  con- 
 tains many  passages,  the  germs  of  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  Sermon  on 
 the  Mount.  Cf  iv.  8-13  ;  vi.  7  ;  vii.  10.  Paul  may  also  have  borrowed 
 irom  it  these  words  of  Christ,  which  were  preserved  for  us  only  by  his 
 means.  Acts  xx.  35,  "It  is  riwre  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive."  This  sayin" 
 expresses  the  disposition  which,  in  Matt.  v.  40-42,  is  set  forth  in  outward 
 acts  ;  the  very  nature  of  love,  happy  in  communicating.  How  beautifully 
 does  this  saying  reveal  the  whole  heart  of  Christ,  whose  whole  aim  was  to 
 impart  to  others  from  the  fulness  of  his  heavenly  riches  ! 
 
254  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 exclude  His  enemies.     How  perfect,  indeed,  must  His  love  be, 
 to  seek  the  redemption  even  of  His  enemies  ! 
 
 IV.    TRUE  RELIGION  CONTBASTED  WITH  THE  MOCK  PIETY  OP  THE  PHARISEES. 
 
 §  156. — (1.)  Alms,  Prayer,  Fastinr/ ;  (2.)  Rigid  Judgment  of  Self,  Mild 
 Judgment  of  others;  (3.)  Test  of  Sincerity  in  Seeking  after  Righteousnea. 
 (Matt.  \'i.  1-18  ;  vii.  1-5.) 
 
 {!•) 
 After  setting  forth  the  opposition  between  legal  and  true 
 holiness,  Christ  passes  on  to  contrast  the  latter  with  the  false 
 spiiitual  tendencies  at  that  time  existing;  to  contrast  that 
 piety  which  attaches  no  importance  either  to  its  own  works 
 or  to  the  show  of  them,  with  the  mock  rehgion  of  the  Phari- 
 sees, which  did  everything  for  show.  It  is  the  contrast,  in  a 
 word,  between  being  and  seeming;  and  no  words  could  express 
 it  more  strikingly  than  "  ivlien  t/wu  doest  thine  aims,  let  not  thy 
 left  hand  hww  what  thy  right  hand  doeth.  So  far  from  doing 
 good  that  others  may  see  it,  thou  must  not  even  think  of  it 
 as  thy  own  work;  do  it,  in  childish  simplicity,  from  thy  lo"\Tiig 
 spirit,  as  if  thou  couldst  not  do  othenvise."  This  principle 
 Christ  apphes  to  three  separate  acts,  in  which  the  Pharisees 
 were  specially  wont  to  make  a  pious  display,  viz. :  Alms,  prayei; 
 and  fasting'^  (vi.  1-18). 
 
 The  sin  which  is  next*  condemned  (vii.  1-5)  springs  from 
 the  same  root  as  the  one  just  mentioned.  The  Pharisees  judged 
 others  severely,  but  were  quite  indulgent  to  themselves,  and, 
 indeed,  never  rightly  examined  themselves.  He  that  knows 
 what  true  righteousness  is,  and  feels  his  own  want  of  it,  will 
 be  a  rigid  censor  of  his  own  life,  but  a  mild  and  gentle  judge 
 of  others.  ["And  why  beholdest  thou  the  mote  that  is  in  thy 
 brother's  eye,  but  considerest  not  the  beam  that  is  in  thine  own  ? 
 Thou  hypocrite  !  first  cast  out  tlte  beam  tluit  is  in  thine  own  eye, 
 and  tfien  sJudt  thou  see  clearly  to  cast  tlie  mote  out  of  thy 
 brothc7''s."] 
 
 '  Since  Christ  specifies  these  three,  in  order  to  apply  to  them  the  genenil 
 principle  of  v.  1  {t))v  £iKaioavvt]v  fii)  Trotft*'  ifiirpocrGev  rwv  avQpwirtiiv), 
 we  infer  that  it  was  foreign  to  his  purpose  to  give  an  exposition  of  the 
 nature  of  prayer  here,  which  confirms  our  view  that  the  "'Lord's  Prayer" 
 is  not  here  in  its  proper  chronological  connexion. 
 
 •  Matt.  vii.  1  stands  in  a  close  logical  connexion  with  vi.  18,  and  the 
 preceding  verses ;  and  is  also  given  by  Luke,  proving  that  it  belongs  to 
 the  original  body  of  the  discourse ;  but  vi.  19-34  \iiot  given  by  Luke  in 
 this  connexion]  appears  as  obviously  not  so.     So  of  5-11,  below. 
 
SEltMON  ON  THE  MOUNT.  255 
 
 (3.) 
 
 The  Saviour  then''  gives  (\'ii.  12)  a  criterion  to  distiugiiish 
 true  from  Pharisaic  righteousness.  "Therefore,  all  things 
 wliatsoever  ye  icould  that  onen,  should  do  unto  you,  do  ye  also  unto 
 tJtem  ;  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets."  (If  you  are  stii\-ing 
 sincerely  after  the  essence  of  righteousness,  you  will  place 
 yourself  in  the  condition  of  others,  and  act  towards  them  as 
 you  would  wish  them,  in  such  case,  to  have  acted  towards 
 you.) 
 
 It  was  certainly  not  Christ's  purpose  here  to  set  up  a  i-ule 
 of  morals  contradictory  to  the  whole  spuit  of  the  rest  of  the 
 sermon,  which  places  the  seat  of  true  morality  in  the  heart. 
 Mere  outward  action,  according  to  this  rule,  might  spring  from 
 diverse  dispositions,  e.  g.  the  mere  prudence  of  selfishness  might 
 lead  us  to  observe  it,  in  order  to  get  like  for  like.  But,  placing 
 it  in  connexion  with  what  has  gone  before,  and  making  love  the 
 mainspring  of  our  actions,  the  rule  affords  a  touchstone  of  their 
 character.  And  when  our  actions  stand  this  test,  Christ  says 
 that  "the  laio  and  the  ^rrophets  (i.  e.,  the  life  and  essence  of  piety 
 to  which  they  pomt)  are  fulfilled z"  for,  as  he  elsewhere  says, 
 "love  is  tlie  fulfilling  of  the  laio." 
 
 v.    EXHORTATIONS  AND  WARNINGS  TO  THE  CHILDREN  OF  THE  KINGDOM. 
 
 §  157. — Exhortation  to  Self-denial. — Caution  against  Seducers. 
 (Matt.  vii.  13-24.) 
 
 Christ  had  now  pointed  out  the  moral  requisites  for  entraiice 
 into  his  kingdom,  and  the  moral  quaUtics  which  must  mark  its 
 members.  He  now  warns  them  (v.  13)  against  the  delusion 
 of  expecting  to  secui-e  its  blessings  in  any  easier  way  than  he 
 had  pointed  out,  or  hoping  to  avoid  struggle  and  self-denial  ;<= 
 
 ''  The  ouv  in  verse  12,  as  well  as  the  course  of  thought,  connect  it 
 with  V.  5. 
 
 '^  Matt.  vii.  13-14,  describe  the  difficulties  of  the  way,  and  join  closely 
 to  wliat  precedes.  The  tigure  of  the  "gate,"  &c.  is  more  aptly  introduced 
 in  Luke  xiii.  24,  25,  and  it  might  bo  supposed  that  the  author  of  the 
 Greek  Matthew  had  tmnsferred  the  passage  to  this  connexion  from  the 
 actual  one  in  which  Christ  uttered  it.  But  so  obvious  a  figure  as  the 
 "gate  "  and  the  "  way  "  may  have  been  used  repeatedly  by  Christ ;  and 
 in  these  two  places,  moreover,  there  is  a  difference  in  its  application.  In 
 Luke,  the  "gate"  is  to  be  entered  before  the  Master  has  closed  it;  in 
 Matt,  it  is  "  the  wide  gate  and  the  broad  way,  which  many  see ;  tlie  nar- 
 row gate  and  the  narrow  way,  which  few  find."  In  the  former  the  thought 
 is,  "  that  few  are  willing  to  undergo  the  necessary  labours  and  struggles 
 to  enter  the  kingdom  ;  "  in  the  latter,  "the  majority  deceive  themselves 
 as  to  the  diflBculties  of  the  task,"  &c. 
 
556  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 and  cautious  them  agamst  false  teachers,  who  "would  lead  them 
 into  such  delusions,  and  draw  them  out  of  the  right  way. 
 Pii'st,  he  gives  a  warning  against  such  as  shall  falsely  pretend 
 to  a  Divine  call  as  teachers  and  guides,  insjiired  by  self-seeking 
 alone.  "  Wolves  in  sheep's  clothing,*^  their  evil  fi-uits,  proofs 
 t)f  their  evil  heai-ts,  distinguish  them  from  genuine  prophets  of 
 Ood"  (v.  lo,  20).  This  warning  was  strikingly  applicable  at 
 that  time  of  out-breaking  battle  with  the  hierarchical  acd 
 Pharisaic  party. 
 
 The  general  proposition,  that  the  state  of  the  heart  must  be 
 sho\vn  by  the  "fiiiits,"  is  then  applied  to  all  believers  (v.  21-23). 
 Not  every  one  who  honours  Jesus  as  Messiah  and  Theocratic 
 King,  and  makes  a  zealous  confession  thereof,  is  thereby  fitted 
 to  share  in  the  kingdom  ;  the  heart  must  be  shown  to  accord 
 with  the  confession,  by  a  faithful  perfbrmance  of  the  "will  of 
 GoD.^  ["  Not  every  one  tluat  saith  imto  me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall 
 e^iter  into  tJie  khigdmn  of  heaven;  but  he  that  doeth  t/ie  loill  of  my 
 Father  which  is  in  /<€««,•««."] 
 
 VI.    TRUE  AND  FALSE  DISCIPLES  CONTRASTED. 
 
 §  US.—Ti'£t  of  Disdjjkshq).  (Matt.  vii.  24-27.) 
 Christ  concludes  the  whole  discourse  with  a  contrast  between 
 tiTie  and  false  disciples ;  between  those  who  take  care  to  apply 
 to  their  hfe  and  practice  the  tiiiths  which  he  had  laid  down, 
 and  those  v/ho  do  not.  He  thus  makes  prominent,  in  the 
 conclusion,  the  great  truth  amiounced  in  the  beginning,  and 
 cai'ried  through  the  discourse,  viz.  that  a  right  disposition  of 
 heart  is  essential  in  all  things.  According  to  their  right  appli- 
 cation of  his  words,  his  hearers  were  to  judge  themselves,  and 
 find  their  destiny  described  (v.  24-27).  ["  IVierefore,  irhosoever 
 heareth  these  sayings  of  mine,  and  doeth  them,  I  wUl  Ween  him 
 unto  a  loise  man,  tchi<:h  built  his  house  uix)n  a  rock:  and  the 
 ■rain  desceiuled,  and  thejloods  came,  and  tJte  inituls  blew,  and  beat 
 ■upon  tliut  Iwuse,  and  it  fell  not ;  for  it  was  founded  upon  a  rock. 
 And  every  mie  that  liecireth  these  sayings  of  mine,  O/nd  doeth  iJtem 
 not,  shall  be  Weened  iinto  a  foolish  man,  irhich  built  his  house 
 upon  tlie  sand:  aiul  tlce  rain  descemled,  and  thejloods  came,  and 
 ifie  WDuhi  bh'in,  and  beat  upon  that  house,  and  it  fell;  ami  grejit 
 was  t/ie  fall  ry'/i."] 
 
 "  Cf.  John  X.  1-5. 
 
 •  Ch.  vii.  2-1,  connects  closely  with  v.  21.  On  the  relation  of  v.  22,  23, 
 to  the  rest  of  the  passage,  we  shall  speak  hereafter. 
 
THE  LEPER  HEALED.  20 1 
 
 These  words  of  warning,  at  the  end  of  the  discourse,  harmo- 
 nize well  with  its  beginning. 
 
 END  OF  THE  SERMOX  ON  THE  MODNT. 
 
 §  159. — JleaUny  of  the  Leper  on  the  Road  to  Capernaum.* 
 After  Cluist  had  concluded  his  deeply  impressive  discoui-se, 
 he  dismissed  the  multitude  and  came  down  from  the  mountain 
 with  his  disciples.  Hosts  of  people  attended  him  to  Caper- 
 naum. A  leper,  who  had  probably  heard  of  his  miracles,  and 
 learned  that  he  would  pass  that  Avay,  had  planted  himself  by 
 the  road-side.  Full  of  faith,  he  threw  himself  at  the  Saviour's 
 feet  and  said,  "  Loixl,  if  thou  imli,  tfiou  canst  maJce  vie  clean." 
 After  Christ  had  granted  his  petition,  he  bade  him  (as  was  his 
 wont  in  such  cases)  first  to  do  what  the  law — which  He  had 
 came  to  "  destroy  "  oidy  by  "  fidfilling  " — demanded,?  \'iz.  to 
 show  himself  to  the  priests  and  offer  the  prescribed  sacrifice,  in 
 order  to  readmission  into  the  Theocratic  community,  from 
 which  he  had  been  excluded  as  unclean. 
 
 §  160. — Ilealitu)  of  the  Heathen  Centurions  Slave  at  Cupcrnaum.^ — 77ie 
 Deputation  of  Elders. — Faith  of  the  Centurion. 
 
 As  soon  as  Christ  an-ived  at  Capernaum,  his  aid  was  sought 
 in  behalf  of  another  sufferer.  The  elders  of  the  synagogue 
 came  to  him  with  a  ])etition  in  the  name  of  a  centurion.  He 
 wa.s  a  heathen ;  but,  like  many  other  heathens  of  that  age, 
 unsatisfied  with  the  old  and  languishing  2)op\ilar  religion,  and 
 impressed,  by  the  moral  and  religious  spirit  of  the  Jewish 
 Theism,  he  has  been  led  to  believe  in  Jehovah  as  the  Almighty. 
 Whether  a  proseli/te  of  the  gate'  or  not,  he  had  proved  his  faith 
 by  liuilding  a  Jewish  synagogue  at  his  own  expense. 
 
 His  love  and  care  for  a  faithful  slaveJ  shows  how  liLs  piety 
 
 '  Matt.  viii.  1.  I  follow  Matthew's  account,  which  suits  the  chronology, 
 in  preference  to  Luke's  (v.  12),  which  says  nothing  about  the  locality  of 
 the  event.  It  wa'^  not  customary,  under  the  Mosaic  law,  for  lepers  to 
 reside  within  the  eitie:*.  Cf.  Joseph,  c.  Apion,  i.  xxxi.  ;  Archaeol.  iii. 
 11.  §  3.  B  Levit.  xiv.  1. 
 
 **  Matt.  viii.  5  ;  Luke  vii.  2.  The  chronological  agreement  of  the 
 accounts,  derived  from  separate  sources,  is  proof  of  their  veracity.  We 
 follow  Luke's,  as  the  more  original. 
 
 '  The  relation  in  which  he  appears  to  stand  to  Judaism  and  the  Jews 
 would  make  it  prob;ible  that  he  icas  a  proselyte  of  the  gate.  But,  on  the 
 other  hand,  if  he  had  been,  the  Jewish  elders  would  jirolably  have  men- 
 tioned it  iu  their  recomiiienilatiou  of  him  ;  he  would  have  had  the  usual 
 designation,  atCo^n'or,  (pr^oi'^itvog  top  fledr. 
 
 J  Tlie  word  used  in  Matthew  is  Tralc,  lyj  ;  which  may,  indeed,  mean 
 Jsla:y,  but  seems  to  be  intended  by  Lim  for  "son,"  as  he  uses  the  article 
 
 S 
 
258  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 had  influenced  his  character.  During  Christ's  absence,  this 
 slave  became  severely  ill ;  and,  just  when  he  was  ready  to  die, 
 the  centurion  heard,  to  his  gi'eat  joy,  of  the  Savioui-'s  return. 
 Placing  his  only  hopes  in  Him,  he  hastened  to  ask  his  assistance. 
 But  he  had  been  accustomed  to  look  upon  the  Jews  alone  as 
 consecrated  to  the  worship  of  the  Most  High ;  and  Clu'ist  yet 
 appeared  to  belong  only  to  that  people.  He  did  not  venture, 
 therefore,  as  a  heathen,  to  apply  to  him  dii'ectly,  but  sought 
 the  mediation  of  the  elders,  whom  he  had  laid  under  obU- 
 gation.^ 
 
 The  centurion  heard  that  Chiist,  in  compliance  with  the 
 request  of  the  elders,  was  approaching  his  house.  But  then 
 the  thought  arose,  "  Hast  thou  not  gone  too  far  in  asking  the 
 Son  of  God,  who  has  spirits  at  liis  command,  to  come  to  thy 
 house?  Hast  thou  not  lowered  him,  by  presuming  that  his 
 corporeal  jDresence  is  necessary  to  the  healing  of  thy  slave  1 
 Could  he  not  have  employed  one  of  liis  hosts  of  ministering 
 spirits  to  accomplish  it?"  \^^ Say,  in  a  word,  and  my  servant 
 shall  he  healed.  For  I  also  .  .  .  say  unto  one,  '  Come,'  and  he 
 Cometh;  and  to  another,   '  GoJ  and  he  goeth."^^     Although  his 
 
 throughout  the  narrative  (6  Tratf).  Tliis,  however,  may  be  explained  on 
 the  ground  that  either  the  centurion  had  but  otic  .slave,  or  that  he  valued 
 this  one  particularl}'.  If  "son  "  were  intended,  it  might  be  accounted  for 
 from  the  ambiguity  of  the  word  both  in  Hebrew  and  Greek  ;  the  high 
 degree  of  love  which  the  centurion  displayed,  also,  was  more  likely  to  be 
 felt  for  a  son  than  a  slave,  and  this  may  have  led  to  the  use  of  the  v/ord. 
 
 ''  Luke's  account,  on  its  face,  shows  that  it  was  taken  from  life  ;  but 
 Strauss  (with  whom  De  Wette  agrees)  thinks  it  bears  the  marks  of  a  later 
 hand,  working  over  Matthew's  purer  and  more  original  statement.  Ac- 
 cording to  Strauss,  the  humility  with  which  the  centurion  himself  addressed 
 Christ  (Matt.  viii.  8)  gave  rise  to  the  conclusion  that  a  Jieathen  who  had 
 had  so  low  an  opinion  of  himself  could  not  possibly  have  applied  to  Christ 
 except  through  Jewish  mediation  ;  and  then  it  was  necessary  to  invent 
 such  an  embassy,  in  order  to  assign  a  proper  motive  for  Christ's  immediate 
 compliance  with  the  request  of  the  heathen.  Grant,  for  a  moment,  that 
 it  were  in  itself  reasonable  and  in  harmony  with  the  simplicity  of  our 
 Evangelists ;  still,  we  should  expect  such  an  interpolation  rather  in  Matthew, 
 whose  narrative  is  supposed  to  be  derived  from  a  Palestine  Jewish- 
 Christian  tradition,  than  iu  Luke,  who  belonged  more  to  the  type  of  Paul. 
 True,  the  conduct  of  the  centurion,  as  stated  by  Luke,  is  precisely  suited 
 to  his  character,  as  shown  in  his  words  recorded  by  Matthew ;  to  his  mode 
 of  thought  in  regard  to  the  person  of  Christ  and  the  relation  between  Jews 
 and  heathen.  l)ut  must  the  veiy  naturalness  and  probability  of  the  state- 
 ment itself  be  made  a  groimd  to  suspect  it  as  an  invention  ?  As  for 
 Matthew's  statement,  that  the  centurion  himself  applied  to  Christ,  it  may 
 naturally  and  easily  be  explained  on  the  supposition  of  an  abbreviation  of 
 the  narrative,  or  obliteration  of  individual  features  of  the  occurrence. 
 
 '  We  cannot  admit  Dr.  Slrauss's  assertion,  that  the  prayer  sent  by  the 
 
THE  DEMONIAC  HEALED.  2^9 
 
 hesitation,  doubtless,  arose  in  part  from  his  unwilhngness,  as  a 
 heathen,  to  summon  the  Savioui"  to  his  house,  his  words  imply 
 that  it  arose  far  more  from  his  conscious  unworthiness  in  com- 
 parison with  Christ's  gi-eatness.  He  conceived  Christ  to  be 
 the  Son  of  God  in  a  sense  natural  to  one  who  had,  from  pa- 
 ganism, become  a  believer  in  Theism. 
 
 The  centm-ion  illustrates  a  state  of  heart  which,  in  all  age.s 
 of  Christianity,  belongs  to  those  who  are  susceptible  of  ad- 
 mitting and  embracing  Christ:  the  consciousness,  namely,  of 
 His  loftiness  and  our  own  unwoi-tliiness.  Here  was  the  deej) 
 import  of  his  signs  of  faith;  and  here  the  groimd  of  these 
 striking  words  of  Christ  addressed  to  the  attendant  multitudes : 
 "  /  have,  oiot  found  so  great  faith,  no,  not  in  Isi'oel."  He  had, 
 indeed,  found  access  to  the  people ;  he  had,  indeed,  found  faith, 
 but  not  such  faith  as  that  of  this  pagan.  The  faith  of  the 
 Jews,  prejudiced  by  their  peculiar  notions  of  the  Messiahship, 
 could  not,  as  yet,  raise  itself  to  a  just  intuition  of  the  super- 
 human greatness  of  Christ.  But  the  pagan,  viewing  Clirist  a-s 
 Lord  of  the  World  of  Spiiits,  had  reached  a  point  which  the 
 Apostles  themselves  were  only  to  attain  at  a  later  period.  And 
 here  we  have  a  sign  that  the  true  and  liigh  intuition  of  the 
 pei-son  of  Chi'ist  was  to  come  rather  trom  the  stand-point  of 
 paganism  than  of  Judaism. 
 
 §  161. — Healing  of  the  Deaf  and  Dumb  Demoniac. — TJie  Charge  ofaLeagtue 
 with  Beelzebub:  a  Visible  Sign  demanded. — The  Cha/i'ge  refuted. 
 The  constantly  increasing  influence  of  Christ  uatiu-ally 
 heightened  the  wrath  of  the  Pharisees.  A  movement  which 
 they  could  not  check  was  in  progress  against  the  spirit  and  the 
 interests  of  their  party.  But  a  powerful  impression,  wrought 
 by  a  single  miracle,  gave  the  signal  for  a  new  and  more  artful 
 attack.  This  occasion  was  the  healing  a  man  of  imbecile  mind, 
 or  a  melancholy  idiot,  who  went  about  appearing  neither  to 
 see  nor  to  hear  anytliing  that  passed  around  him.™  The  people 
 received  the  ciu-e  as  a  sign  of  Christ's  Messianic  power. 
 
 elders  (Luke  ^di.  3)  is  inconsistent  with  tbe  second  message  (v.  6),  and 
 that,  therefore,  the  connexion  which  in  Matthew  is  natural  is  unnatural 
 in  Luke.  Had  Luke's  account  been  a  fiction,  instead  of  making  the  cen- 
 turion take  back  his  prayer  sent  by  the  elders,  it  would  have  given  the 
 prayer  a  different  character  from  the  beginning.  Considering  it  as  a  nar- 
 rative of  fact,  it  bears  precisely  the  stamp  of  real  life  ;  the  centurion,  at 
 first,  absorbed  in  his  anxiety,  sends  for  Christ  to  come  to  him  ;  afterward, 
 when  he  finds  the  fulfilment  of  his  desire  at  hand,  the  sense  of  his  unwor- 
 thiness in  comparison  with  the  greatness  of  Christ  becomes  prominent,  and 
 with  it  a  sense  of  the  impropriety  of  his  request. 
 
 "  Luke  xi.  14  ;  Matt.  xii.  22.     This  view  of  the  case  is  founded  upon 
 
 s2 
 
260  SECOND  GEXERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILER 
 
 It  was  necessary  for  the  Pharisees  to  remove  this  impression 
 from  their  minds.  But  how  was  it  to  be  done  1  The  fact 
 could  neither  be  denied  nor  attributed  to  natural  agencies. 
 In  this  dilemma,  they  had  recourse  to  falsehood,  and  accused 
 him  of  employing  an  e\al  magic,  a  beUef  in  which  still  propa- 
 gated itself  among  the  traditions"  of  Jewish  fanaticism.  The 
 Prince  of  Evil  Spmts,  they  said,  in  order  to  secure  favour 
 among  the  people  for  the  false  pi'ophet  who  was  laboiu-ing  for 
 Satan's  kingdom,  had  given  him  power  to  exorcise  inferior 
 spirits  from  men;  thixs  sacrificing  a  less  object  for  a  gi*eater.*> 
 
 Others,  again,  whose  hostility  to  Chi'ist  and  to  tnith  was  not 
 so  decided  (although  they  were  not  susceptible  of  Di%Tne  im- 
 pressions), only  refused  to  acknowledge  the  miracle  as  a  suffi- 
 cient sign  of  Messiah.ship,  and  demanded  an  immediate  token 
 from  God — a  voice  from  heaven,  or  a  celestial  appearance.? 
 
 Christ  first  replied  to  the  most  decided  opponents,  and,  to 
 show  the  absiu-dity  of  their  accusation,  reasoned  as  follows : 
 "  It  is  a  conti-adiction  in  terms  to  suppose  that  good  can  be 
 directly  wrought  by  evil;i  tliat  evil  shoiUd  be  conquered  by 
 
 the  fact  that  the  man's  dumhicss  is  ascribed  (which  is  not  done  in  othei" 
 cases)  to  his  being  possessed  with  demons,  and  his  subsequent  ability  to 
 fiear  and  speak  to  their  expidsion.  Matthew  adds  blindness,  which  har- 
 monizes well  with  our  view.  We  infer,  from  the  impression  produced  by 
 the  miracle,  that  the  case  differed  from  ordinary  possessions.  It  is  possible, 
 however,  that  the  case  is  confounded  in  Matthew  with  other  cures  of  blind 
 men  ;  cf.  Matt.  ix.  27-34.  Tliis  last  passage,  v.  32-34,  seems  to  be  but  an 
 abridged  account  of  the  very  case  under  discussion. 
 
 °  Celms  took  a  hint  from  these.  •>  Matt.  xii.  24-26. 
 
 •"  How  strongly  expectations  of  this  kind  were  cherished  by  the  Jews  is 
 .shown  by  the  fact  that  Philo's  Hellenic- Alexandrian  culture  could  not  free 
 him  from  them,  although  the  expectation  of  a  personal  Messiah  is  not 
 prominent  in  him.  He  believes  that,  when  the  purification  of  the  scat- 
 tered Jews  is  accomplished,  they  will  be  drawn  together  from  all  nations, 
 by  a  celestial  phenomenon,  to  one  definite  place:  "  ttvcxyovjiivoi  jr/odf 
 Tivog  ^iioTipac  j)  Kara  (piiaiv  avOpwTrirtjv  oi^/foic,  dt"/;Xoi»  fttv  iripoig, 
 fjtovoig  ci  Tolc  dva<rb)}^ofiivoig  tfi<pavovc.'' — De  Execrat.  §  9. 
 
 1  There  is,  indeed  a  sense  in  which  the  kingdom  of  evil  is  always  at  war 
 with  itself;  but  in  evil,  as  sv/:h,  as  opposed  to  good,  there  is  always  a 
 definite  relative  unity.  If  this  unity  was  destroyed,  if  Satan  were  to 
 accomplish  the  same  good  as  that  ^^T0Ught  by  the  power  of  God.  it  would 
 be  a  contradictio  hi  adjecto  ;  the  kingdom  of  evil  would  be  ijtfio  facto  sub- 
 verted. Evil  may,  and  indeed  must,  indirectly  subserve  good  ;  but  it 
 cannot  directly  do  good  so  long  as  its  nature,  as  evil,  remains.  A  kingdom, 
 or  a  family,  may  continue  to  exist  as  such,  with  an  internal  discord  in  its 
 bosom  that  is  the  germ  of  its  dissolution  ;  but  the  relative  imity  must 
 remain.  This  truth  admitted  the  further  application — which  Christ  did 
 not  express,  but  left  to  the  Pharisees  to  make — that  Satan  could  not  seek 
 
THE  JEWISH  EXORCISTS.  2G1 
 
 evil;  that  one  should  be  ivQQ^from  the  power  of  the  Evil  One 
 hy  the  power  of  the  Evil  One.  Could  evil  thus  do  the  works 
 of  good,  it  would  be  no  more  evil."  He  then  applies  an  argu- 
 meutum  ad  hominem  to  the  Pharisees  [//*  /  %  Beelzehrih  cast 
 out  devils,  by  ivliom  do  yaitr  sons  cast  them  out  ?  tlierefore  sttaU 
 tltey  he  your  judges].  If  a  charge  of  the  sort,  he  tells  them, 
 were  brought  against  their  exorcists,  they  would  soon  pro- 
 nounce it  untenable.  It  follows,  then,  that  this  Di\'ine  act — 
 the  delivery  of  a  human  soul  from  the  evol  spirit  that  had 
 crushed  its  sell-conscious  activity — was  wrought  by  the  power 
 and  Spirit  of  God  alone. 
 
 ''But"  he  contmues,  "if  I  cast  out  devils  by  tlie  Spirit  of  God, 
 tJien  tJte  kingdom  of  God  is  come  unto  you."  This  single  victory 
 proves  that  a  power  has  come  among  men  which  is  able  to 
 conquer  evil — the  power,  namely,  of  the  kmgdom  of  God, 
 which  ever  i)ropagates  itself  in  stniggling  with  evil ;  the  nega- 
 tive presupposes  the  positive.  The  similitude  that  follows 
 illustrates  the  same  truth  :  "  When  a  strong  man,  armed,  keepeth 
 his  palace,  his  goods  are  in  peace;  but  ^rJien  a  stronger  tJum  he 
 sluxll  come  zipon  him,  and  overcome  him,  lie  taketh  from  him  all 
 his  armour  loherein  he  trusted,  and  divideth  his  spoils."  So,  had 
 not  the  power  of  evil  itself  been  subdued  by  a  higher  power, 
 such  individual  manifestations  of  it  as  the  evil  spuit  in  the 
 demoniac  could  not  have  been  conquered.'^ 
 
 §  162. — The  Conjuraticms  of  the  Jewish  Exwcists.  (Luke  xi.  23-26.) 
 It  followed,  from  the  foregoing  words  of  Chiist  iu  reply  to 
 the  Pharisees,  that  all  ciu'cs  of  demoniacs  wrought  on  any  other 
 principles  must  be  entirely  apparent  and  deceptive.*  It  was  of 
 no  avail  to  remove  individual  symptoms  while  the  cause,  "viz.  the 
 dominion  of  the  evil  prmciple,  remained  unshaken.  The  very 
 agency   that    removed   the   former    for   a   time    would   only 
 
 to  secure  accew  to  the  hearts  of  men  for  one  whose  whole  nature  and 
 labours  were  opjwsed  to  the  kingdom  of  evil.  "  Satan,  casting  out  Satan," 
 wotdd  be  no  more  Satan.  Tlie  difficulties,  therefore,  wliich  De  Wetfe  finds 
 in  the  passage  are  overcome.  Tlie  truth  of  Christ's  proposition  does  not 
 lie  upon  the  surface. 
 
 ■■  Christ  here  indicates  that  the  so-called  demoniacal  possessions  were 
 nothing  else  but  individual  phenomena  of  Satan's  kingdom  manife>ted 
 among  men. 
 
 *  As  a  physician,  who  treats  the  symptoms  of  disease,  but  neglects  the 
 cause,  Btrengthens  the  latter  by  the  very  medicines  which  palliate  the 
 fonuer.  A  vivid  illustration  of  the  pregnant  truth  here  unfolded  by  Christ 
 iu  reference  to  the  cures  of  the  demoniacs. 
 
2G2  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 sti-engthen  the  latter,  to  break  forth  again  "with  increased 
 power. 
 
 Therefore,  although  Chiist,  speaking  kut  avBputnor,  presup- 
 posed that  the  Jewish  exorcists  could  heal  demoniacs,  he  could 
 not  recognise  their  cures  as  genuine.  So  he  says  (Luke  xi.  23), 
 "  WJwsoever  is  not  with  me  (works  not  in  communion  with  me 
 in  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost)  is  agaiiist  tne  (opposes  in  his 
 works  the  kingdom  of  God)  ;  and  lie  t/uit  gatliereth  not  with  me 
 (does  not,  in  communion  with  me,  gather  souls  for  the  king- 
 dom) sccUtereth  abroad^  (leads  them  astray,  and  thus  really 
 works  for  the  kingdom  of  Satan,  against  which  he  ajypareidly 
 contends)."  The  exorcists  pretended,  in  casting  out  de\-ils,  to 
 fight  against  Satan;  but,  in  fact,  by  their  ai'ts  of  deceit,  were 
 striving  against  the  kingdom  of  God.  How  cutting  a  contrast 
 to  the  assertion  of  the  Pharisees  that  devils  might  be  cast  out 
 by  the  aid  of  Satan ! 
 
 The  same  truth  is  illustrated  in  parabolic  form  in  verses 
 24 — 26;  unless  a  radical  cm*e  of  the  demoniac  is  made  by  the 
 redeeming  power  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  Ms  soul  remains  es- 
 tranged from  God,  the  apparently  cured  disease  seizes  it  witli 
 
 *  This  text  is  put  in  the  same  connexion  in  Matt.  (xii.  30).  But  the 
 Sia  Tovro  of  v.  31  does  not  naturally  join  with  v.  30  ;  there  is  no  such 
 casual  relation  as  is  implied  by  the  phrase,  nor  does  it  join  any  more 
 closely  with  what  follows  ;  indeed,  it  appears  rather  to  l)elong  at  the  end 
 of  all  the  proofs  adduced  against  the  Pharisees.  Tlie  right  arrangement 
 is  doubtless  that  of  Luke  (xii.  23-26)  ;  and  the  more  profound  order  of  the 
 thought,  as  Luke  presents  it,  is  not  the  work  of  chance,  but  a  proof  of  the 
 originality  of  the  account.  I  must  differ,  therefore,  from  Professor  Ehcert, 
 who,  in  his  ingenious  dissertiition  {Stud,  der  Geistl.  Wiirtcm.  ix.  i.  1836), 
 denies  that  Luke  xi.  23  has  reference  to  the  verses  immediately  preceding. 
 Understanding  the  parable  more  in  the  sense  of  Matthew  (although  he 
 admits  Luke's  originality  also),  he  connects  this  passage  with  it,  and  con- 
 siders it  as  directed  against  the  indecision  of  the  multitude,  who,  after 
 Mioments  of  enthusiastic  excitement  in  Christ's  favour,  suffered  themselves 
 to  be  so  easily  led  astray.  But  we  ought  not  to  seek  new  combinations 
 when  the  original  connexion  of  a  passage,  lying  before  us,  offers  a  good 
 sense.  Even  apart  from  this,  however,  Prof  E.'s  explanation  does  not 
 suit  the  latter  clause  of  v.  23  at  all — "  Ife  that  galheret.'i  not  with  me,  sccU- 
 tereth,"  which  is  obviously  not  directed  against  an  inward  disposition,  but 
 outward  acts;  viz.  acts  which  pretend  to  he  done  in  favour  of  Christ's 
 kingdom,  Init,  in  reality,  operate  against  it.  Prof  E.  himself  tidmits 
 (p.  180)  that  the  words  quoted,  if  taken  strictly  in  their  connexion,  do  not 
 favour  his  view  ;  but  thinks  he  is  justified,  by  their  approaching  to  the 
 character  of  a  proverb,  in  departing  from  the  strict  construction.  There 
 is  no  proof,  however,  that  Christ  made  use  here  of  an  existing  proverb  ; 
 but  this  is  immaterial  to  the  interpretation  of  the  pas.sage.  On  the  whole, 
 my  view  corresponds  with  that  of  Schlcicrm acker,  in  loc.  Tlie  relation  of 
 Luke  xi.  23  to  ix.  60,  will  be  examined  in  its  place  hereafter. 
 
BLASPHEMY  AGAINST  THE  HOLY  GHOST.  263 
 
 iiew  force,  the  ungodly  spirit  finds  his  old  haunt — liis  former 
 dwelling  is  completely  prepared  for  his  reception." 
 
 §  163. — Blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost  and  against  (he  Son  of 
 Man.  (Matt.  xii.  32.) 
 Christ,  having  thus  shoAvn  to  the  Pharisees  the  emptiness 
 of  their  charge,  and  the  absurdity  of  the  assumption  which 
 formed  its  basis,  then  assumed  the  ofiensive,  and  pointed  out 
 to  them  the  ground  of  their  coming  to  utter  such  a  self-refuting 
 accusation.  It  was  because  the  disposition  of  their  hewrts  raled 
 and  swayed  their  decision;  what  aggravated  their  guilt  was, 
 that  they  suppressed  the  consciousness  of  God  and  of  truth, 
 to  whose  strivings  in  their  minds  their  very  accusation  bore 
 testimony.  "  Because  you  cannot  really  believe  that  I  work 
 with  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  Evil,  but,  on  the  other  hand, 
 could  readUy  have  satisfied  yourselves  that  I  could  do  such 
 works  only  by  the  power  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  tJierefore,  I  say 
 unto  you,  it  is  one  thing  with  those  who  stumble  at  the  human 
 form  of  my  manifestation,  and  are  itnable  to  recognise  the  Son 
 of  God  in  the  veil  of  flesh,  with  those  who,  through  prejudice 
 or  ignorance,  blaspheme  the  Son  of  Man  because  he  does  not 
 appear,  as  they  expected  the  Messiah  would,  in  earthly  splen- 
 dour;^ and  quite  another  thing  -with  you,  who  loill  not  receive 
 
 "  Luke  xi.  24-25.  In  Matt.  xii.  43-45,  the  passage  is  introduced  in  a 
 different  connexion,  and  must  be  differently  interpreted  ;  it  was  applied 
 to  illustrate  the  truth,  viz.  that  that  generation,  refusing  to  obey  the  call 
 to  repentance,  should  therefore  fall  into  worse  and  more  incurable  cor- 
 ruption. This  corresponds  perfectly  to  the  sense  of  the  parable  ;  and  the 
 thought  which  it  contains  finds  a  rich  and  manifold  illustration  in  history, 
 both  on  a  large  and  small  scale  ;  in  all  tliose  cases,  namely,  in  which  a 
 temporary  and  apparent  reformation,  without  a  radical  cure  of  funda- 
 mental evil,  has  been  followed  by  a  stronger  reaction.  This  application 
 of  the  passage  implies  that  signs  of  an  apparent  amendment  had  shown 
 themselves  in  "  that  generation  ; "  and,  moreover,  it  requires  that  the 
 passage  itself  should  be  referred  to  the  impressions,  great,  but  not  perma- 
 nent, which  Christ's  works,  now  and  again,  produced  npon  the  multitude. 
 But  it  is  clear  that  the  nearer  and  stricter  application  of  the  pas.sage  is 
 that  given  in  Luke,  viz.  to  the  apparent  healing  of  the  demoniacs.  One 
 thing  is  evident  from  Matthew's  use  of  it,  viz.  that  it  was  well  understood 
 from  the  beginning  that  the  pa.ssage  was  not  to  be  taken  literally,  but 
 figuratively,  which,  indeed,  is  obvious  enough  from  the  whole  foim  of  dis- 
 course. It  would  have  been  contrary  to  all  analogy  for  the  men  of  that 
 time,  disposed  as  they  were  to  take  everything  in  a  literal  sense,  to  attach 
 a  spiritual  meaning  to  these  words,  if  it  had  not  been  obvious  that  he  spoke 
 them  entirely  by  way  of  parable.  This  is  written — quite  superfluously — 
 solely  against  Strauss ;  for  the  sense  in  which  Christ  used  the  f»arable  is 
 plainly  obvious  from  the  connexion. 
 
 ^  There  were  some  such  among  the  Jews,  led  away  by  prejudice  and 
 
26  t  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 the  revelation  of  the  Holy  Ghost  that  comes  towards  you,  w  ho 
 suppress  the  conscious  truth  within  you,  declaring  that  to  be 
 the  Evil  Spirit's  Avork  which  you  feel  yoursehes  im}>elled  to 
 recognise  as  the  woi-k  of  the  Holy  Ghost"  (v.  31-33). 
 
 "Where  the  root  in  the  heart  is  not  corrupted,  where  the 
 sense  of  truth  is  not  stifled — as  in  the  case  of  those  who  bhis- 
 plieme  the  Son  of  INIan  not  hwwn  as  such — there  Christ  finds 
 a  starting-point  for  repentance,  and  access  for  forgiveness. 
 But,  where  the  Spirit  of  Lies  has  taken  fidl  possession,  says  he, 
 there  can  be  no  room  for  repentance,  and,  consequently,  uo 
 forgiveness.  It  is  not  clear,  however,  whether  he  meant  to 
 charge  upon  the  very  indi\iduals  in  question  tliis  total  sup- 
 pression of  truth  and  submission  to  the  S]nrit  of  Lies,  thus 
 utterly  excluding  thou  from  repentance  and  pardon;  or 
 whether,  by  drawing  this  distinct  line  of  demarcation,  he 
 wished  to  show  them  how  precarious  a  footing  they  held,  fur 
 from  the  first  class,  and  near  to  the  second.  In  fact,  the  Spirit 
 of  Lies,  which  peiinits  no  impressions  of  the  Good  and  the 
 True,  held  a  high  degree  of  dominion  o^er  these  Pharisees. 
 
 Christ  further  told  the  Pharisees  (in  close  connexion  with 
 his  exj)osm'e  of  their  axil  disposition  of  heart)  that,  in  their 
 moral  condition,  they  could  not  speak  otherwise  than  they  had 
 done :  "  0  generation  of  vipers  !  hovi  can  ye,  being  evil,  speaJc 
 good  things  ?"  Their  decision  upon  his  act  bore  the  impress  of 
 theii'  ungodly  nature.  "For  out  of  tJie  abundance  of  the  heart 
 tlie  mouth  speaketh  ;''  and  tlierefore  it  is — because  the  eril  natiu-e 
 can  express  itself  outwai-dly  in  words  as  well  as  deeds — that 
 Christ  attaches  so  much  import  to  their  words.  The  judgment 
 of  God,  which  looks  only  at  the  heart,  will  visit  words  no  less 
 than  works :  "  /  say  luito  you,  that  every  idle  vjord  tliat  ineif. 
 shall  speak,  tliey  shall  give  account  thereof  in  tJie  d<iy  of  judgment: 
 for  by  thy  words  tluni  sludt  be  justified,  and  by  thy  words  shalt 
 thou  be  condemnedy^' 
 
 ignorance,  rather  tlian  by  evil  dispositions,  to  blaspheme  what  they  did 
 not  understand.  Iliese  were  not  l>eyond  the  reach  of  Divine  impressions 
 and  convictions,  if  presented  at  more  favourable  periods.  Many  who  then 
 stumbled  at  the  Son  of  Man  in  the  form  of  a  nerr-ant  were  afterward  more 
 readily  led  to  believe  by  tlie  operations  of  the  Spirit  proceeding  fnmi  the 
 glorified  Son  of  Man.  But  what  clearness  and  freedom  of  mind,  what 
 elevation  above  all  personal  influences,  did  C'lirii-t  display  in  thus  distin- 
 yui.sliing,  in  tlie  very  heat  of  the  l)attle.  the  different  cLoases of  his  enemies! 
 The  distinction  thus  drawn  by  Christ  is  applicable  to  the  different  opjwv- 
 nents  of  Cliristianity  in  all  ages. 
 
 *  Tliis  announcement  was  directly  opposed  to  the  Pharisees'  doctrine, 
 according  to  which  morality  wasjud^d  by  the  standard  oi  quantity. 
 
Christ's  relatives  ix  a  spiritual  sense.  '■26^) 
 
 §  164. — Purpose  of  Christ's  Relatives  to  coinfinc.  him  as  a  Lunatic. — He 
 declares  who  are  his  Relatives  in  the  Spintual  &H.ve.* 
 
 While  Cluist  was  tlius  exposing  the  machinations  of  the 
 Pharisees  and  the  evil  spirit  that  inspired  them,  he  was  in- 
 formed that  his  mother  and  his  brothers,  who  could  not 
 apjiroach  on  account  of  the  throng,  were  seeking  him.>'  As  the 
 scene  that  was  going  on  threatened  bad  results  to  the  Pharisaic 
 party  by  making  a  strong  impression  upon  the  people,  the 
 Pharisees  had  sought  to  break  it  up,  by  persuading  his  relatives 
 that  he  had  lost  his  senses.^  His  scA'ere  discourses,  doubtless, 
 appeared  to  many  a  bigoted  scribe  as  the  words  of  a  madman 
 (John  X.  20),  and  the  Pharisees  probabh"  made  use  of  them  in 
 imposing  upon  his  relatives.  The  apparent  contrarieties  in 
 Christ's  discourses  and  actions  could  only  be  hannonized  by  a 
 complete  and  tnie  intuition  of  his  personality;  to  his  brothern 
 he  was  always  an  enigma  and  a  pai-adox,  and  they  could, 
 therefore,  the  more  easily,  in  an  unhappy  moment,  be  perplexed 
 by  the  crafty  Pharisees."  It  is  difficult,  however,  to  imagine 
 that  Mary  could  have  been  thus  deceived;  she  may  have 
 followed  them  from  anxiety  of  a  different  kind  about  her  sou. 
 
 But  Christ,  surrounded  by  a  host  of  anxious  seekers  for 
 salvation,  heard  the  announcement  undisturbed.  To  show,  6y 
 this  striking  case,  that  blood  relation.ship  did  not  imply  affinity 
 
 ^  Matt.  xii.  4^-'j0  ;  Mark  iii.  31,  seq.  :  Luke  viii.  19,  seq. 
 
 y  By  i^u)  (in  Matthew  and  Mark)  we  are,  perhaps,  to  understand  "out- 
 side of  the  thronff,"  or,  outside  of  an  enclosure.  It  is  not  neces.«ary  (nor, 
 indeed,  suitable)  to  assiune  that  the  asseniljly  was  gathered  in  a  house. 
 
 ^  Mark  iii.  21.  This  doe.s  not  look  [as  some  would  have  it]  like  a  wilful 
 colouring,  added  to  the  facts  by  tradition,  or  by  Mark  himself ;  but  rather 
 indicates,  as  do  slight  characteristic  touches  in  other  passages  given  by 
 Mark  alone,  that  this  Evangelist  made  use  of  authorities  ]ieculiarly  hia 
 o^\■Il.  Such  an  invention,  or  penersion  of  tradition,  would  have  been 
 utterly  inconsistent  with  the  tone  of  thought  and  feeling  generally  preva- 
 lent in  regard  to  Christ :  who,  in  those  days,  would  have  believed  tliat 
 Christ's  own  brothers  could  listen  to  such  a  bla,sphemy  against  him  !  It  has 
 been  supposed,  again,  that  the  statement  in  Mark  originated  in  a  misun- 
 derstanding of  the  accusation  brought  against  Christ  by  tlie  Pharisees  ; 
 but  this  is  impossiljle  ;  who  could  .suppose  the  accusation  to  mean  that 
 "  he  cast  out  devils,  being  himself  a  demoniac  i "  On  the  other  hand, 
 different  memljers  of  the  Pharisaic  jiarty,  or  the  same  persons  with  different 
 objects  in  view,  nught  have  originated  both  slanders ;  at  one  moment 
 charging  him  with  the  Satanic  league,  and  at  another  with  being  a  de- 
 moniac himself. 
 
 '  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  John  (vii.  .'i-7)  mentions,  precisely  with 
 reference  ti>  this  same  point  of  time,  that  Christ's  brothers  did  not  believe 
 in  his  Divine  caUing,  but  wished  to  jiut  him  to  the  proof;  and  that  hi 
 then  described  them  as  belonging  to  the  world. 
 
266  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GAULEE. 
 
 for  his  Spirit,  lie  asked,  "  W/io  is  my  onother,  and  wJto  a/re  my 
 broilvers  V  Pointing  to  tlie  seeking  souls  ai'ound  him,  and  to 
 his  nearer  spiritual  kindred — the  disciples — he  said,  ''  Be?iold 
 my  motlier  and  my  brotJiers  !  For  ivhosoever  sludl  do  the  loill  of 
 my  Father  which  is  in  heaven,  the  same  is  my  hrotlier,  and  sister, 
 and  mother.''  ^ 
 
 §  165.- — Tlie  Demand  of  a  Sign  from  Heaven  ansicercd  only  by  the  Sign 
 of  the  Prophet  JonctJi.     (Luke  xi.  16,  29-36.) 
 
 "We  stated,  on  p.  260,  that  the  less  violent  of  Christ's  oppo- 
 nents demanded  of  him  "  a  sign  from  heaven."  In  answering 
 these,  he  showed  that  their  ungodly  disposition  of  heart  was  at 
 once  the  ground  of  their  unbelief  and  the  secret  motive  of  their 
 demand. 
 
 \A  n  evil  amd  adulterous  generation  seeketh  after  a  sign  ;  a/nd 
 tliere  shall  no  sign  be  given  to  it,  but  the  sign  of  the  Prophet 
 Jonah.  For  as  Jonah  loas  a  sign  to  the  Ninevites,  so,  also,  sludl 
 the  Son  of  Man  be  to  this  generation!]  "  In  vain  did  they  ask 
 a  new  sign;  such  a  one  as  they  asked  they  should  not  obtain. 
 No  other  sign  should  they  have  but  that  of  the  Prophet 
 Jonah,'^  i.  e.  the  whole  manifestation  of  Christ, "^  by  which  the 
 Jews  were  to  be  called  to  repent  and  escape  the  threatened 
 judgment."     He  was  to  be  a  sign,  shining  for  all  mankind ; 
 
 ^  These  words  are  given  by  Luke  (viii.  21)  in  a  different  connexion  ; 
 one  in  which,  indeed,  Christ  might  veiy  well  have  uttered  them,  althougli 
 the  occasion  for  them  does  not  appear  so  obvious  as  in  Matthew  and  ]\Iark. 
 In  connexion  with  the  account  of  the  healing  of  the  deaf  and  dumb  de- 
 moniac given  by  Lidce,  we  have  a  different  passage  (xi.  27,  28)  from  the 
 one  now  imder  discussion,  but  which  yet  contains  something  of  a  similar 
 import,  viz.  :  a  contrast  between  a  mere  outward  love  of  Christ's  person 
 and  true  reverence  for  him.  This  affinity  of  meaning  may  have  caiised 
 the  two  passages  to  change  places  with  each  other.  We  presupposed  this 
 in  our  use  of  Luke  xi.  28,  on  p.  202.  And  tlie  affinity  of  the  two  expres- 
 sions may  have  also  caused  the  two  accounts  in  Matthew  and  Mark  to  be 
 chronologically  connected  together. 
 
 '  See  above,  p.  144. 
 
 ''  In  Matt.  xii.  40,  the  reference  is  made  to  bear  upon  the  reswTection 
 of  Christ,  which  is  quite  foreign  to  the  original  sense  and  connexion  of  the 
 passage.  It  was  Christ's  whole  manifestation,  then  developing  itself  before 
 ike,  eyes  of  them  that  heard  him,  that  was  in  question  ;  the  resurrection  was 
 witnessed  only  by  persons  who  were  already  believers,  for  whom  it  was  a 
 sign  to  reanimate  their  faith.  For  those  who  persisted  in  unbelief,  TWt- 
 withstanding  the  sign  of  his  whole  manifestation,  the  resurrection  was  a 
 sign  of  reproof,  a  testimony  that  the  work  of  God  had  triumphed  over  all 
 their  machinations.  A  special  application  of  the  ty[)e  in  this  way  would 
 have  drawn  the  attention  of  the  hearers  away  from  the  main  point  of 
 comparison.  For  these  reasons  we  think  the  vei'se  in  question  is  a  com- 
 mentary by  a  later  hand. 
 
THE  PHABISEES  REBUKED.  267 
 
 and  this  candle,  once  lighted,  teas  not  to  he  put  in  a  secret  place, 
 /leither  under  a  bitsliel,  but  on  a  candlestick,  that  all  loho  should 
 enter  the  house  might  see  tJie  lig/it  (v.  33).  So  was  He  to  be  a 
 light  xmto  all  men.  But  in  order  to  receive  the  light,  the  eye 
 must  be  sound.  And  what  the  eye  is  to  the  body,  the  inner 
 light  of  Divine  consciousness,  originally  implanted  in  our 
 natiire,  is  to  the  soul.  Where  this  light  has  become  darkness; 
 where  the  DiAinity  in  man,  the  consciousness  of  God,  has  been 
 subjugated  and  stifled  by  the  world,  all  that  is  within  is  fidl  of 
 darkness,  and  no  Ught  from  without  can  illumine  it.  The 
 organ  wherewith  to  receive  Divine  revelations  is  wanting 
 (v.  34-36). 
 
 Thus  it  was,  because  of  the  inner  darkness  of  their  souls, 
 that  these  men  could  not  imderstand  '•  the  sign "  given  by 
 Chiist's  whole  manifestation;  and  for  this  reason  it  was  that, 
 in  spite  of  all  the  signs  that  lay  before  their  eyes,  they  ever 
 asked  for  more. 
 
 §  166. — Discourse  proTunmced  at  a  Feast  against  the  Hypocrisy  of  the 
 Pharisees  and  tlie  Laicyers.     (Luke  xi.  37-52.) 
 
 While  Christ  was  engaged  in  the  conversation  just  referred 
 to,  a  certain  Pharisee,  who  did  not  display  liis  hostile  dispo- 
 sition so  openly  as  the  rest,  but  masked  it  lander  the  garb  of 
 courtesy,  came  and  invited  liim  to  breakfast,  probably  with  a 
 view  to  catch  up  something  in  his  words  or  actions  that  might 
 point  a  charge  of  heresy,  or  serve  to  cast  suspicion  upon  him 
 at  a  subsequent  period. 
 
 In  this  spirit,  he  found  it  quite  a  matter  of  offence  that 
 Chiist  sat  down  to  table  without  washing  his  hands.  The 
 Saviour  took  occasion  from  this  to  expose  the  hypocrisy  of  the 
 sect;  and  availed  himself,  for  the  purpose,  of  illustrations 
 drawn  from  the  objects  around  liim  at  the  feast.  "  You 
 Pharisees  make  the  cups  and  dislies  clean  outside,  but  leave 
 them  fidl  of  dirt  withm.  So  you  are  carefid  to  preserve  an 
 outwai'd  show  of  purity,  but  inwardly  you  are  full  of  avai-ice 
 and  wickednes.s.^     Ye  fooLs,  are  not  the  inwai'd  and  the  out- 
 
 •^  It  is  a  question  whether  Matt,  xxiii.  2.5,  or  Luke  xi.  39,  contains  the 
 original  form  of  these  words.  In  the  latter,  the  second  member  of  the 
 illustration  is  wanting ;  Christ  passes  over  from  the  illusti-ation  (the 
 vessels)  to  the  thing  illustrated  (the  Pharisees).  The  two  members  are 
 more  complete  in  ilatthew  :  "  Ye  make  clean  the  outside  of  the  cups  and 
 platters,  but  inwardly  they  are  fuU  of  extortion  and  wickedness,"  i.  e.  their 
 contents  were  obtained  by  avarice  and  oppression.  But  neither  is  this 
 precisely  apt,  nor  does  it  seem  likely  that  Christ  would  have  reproached 
 the  Pharisee  exactly  in  tliis  form.     In  Luke  the  last  member  of  the  Ulus- 
 
268  SECOJiT)  GEaTERA.L  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 ward  made  by  the  same  Creator,  insepai'able  1  From  within 
 must  tnie  morality  proceed ;  from  the  heart  must  the  essence 
 of  piety  be  developed." 
 
 From  this  he  takes  occasion  (v.  41-14)  to  expose  the  mock 
 piety  of  the  Pharisees,  displayed  in  their  satisfying  themselves, 
 not  mei'ely  in  religion,  but  also  in  morality,  with  outward  aiid 
 empty  show.^     They  manifested   their   hjq^ocrisy  (v.   42)  in 
 
 tration  (the  cups  are  dirty  \vithiu)  and  the  Jii'st  member  of  the  application 
 (ye  are  careful  for  outward  purity)  are  wanting.  lu  the  above  interpreta- 
 tion of  Matthew  we  follow  the  reading  dciKiac  ;  it  would  not  apply  if  we 
 take  that  of  the  lect.  recept.  viz.  ctK^aaiuQ  ;  which  is  not  without  good 
 authority.  This  reading  recommends  itself  as  the  more  difficult :  it  is  easy 
 to  Conceive,  as  Dc  Wctte  remarks,  how  the  others  could  have  grown  out  of 
 it. 
 
 '  Luke  xi.  41,  presents  a  difficulty.  On  any  interpretation,  it  seems  to  me 
 that  TO.  iiwvra  corresponds  to  tau)9(i>,  as  contrasted  with  t^ioOiv,  v.  39,  and 
 must  therefore  be  applied  to  the  heart.  This  being  admitted,  the  only 
 question,  is  whether  the  words  were  or  were  not  spoken  ironically.  If  they 
 were  not,  it  must  seem  strange  that  Christ,  whose  design  was  to  aim  at  the 
 disposition  of  the  heart,  should  have  laid  down  anything  so  easily  perverted 
 into  opus  operatiim.  It  may  be  said  that,  in  accordance  with  a  mode  of 
 teaching  which  he  frequently  adopted,  viz.  to  give  a  specific  instead  of  a 
 general  precept,? — to  command  an  outward  act,  as  a  sign  of  the  disposition, 
 instead  of  ei\joining  the  disposition  itself;  he  here  enjoins  alms-giving  as 
 proof,  in  act,  of  the  possession  of  that  love  which  imparts  to  others.  This 
 appears  to  be  confinned  by  the  verse  following,  in  which  justice  and  love 
 are  mentioned  as  virtues  wholly  neglected  by  the  Pharisees  ;  imjilying  that 
 their  alms-giving,  previously  mentioned,  being  destitute  of  the  proper  dis- 
 position, was  valueless.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  where  Christ  employs 
 this  mode  of  teaching,  the  peculiar  kind  of  special  injunction  that  he  givea 
 is  always  determined  by  the  character  of  his  hearers  ;  and  alms-ffiving 
 would  have  been  an  inapt  injunction  to  Phansces,  who,  as  we  leani  from, 
 the  Sennon  on  the  Mount,  made  great  show  and  display  thereof  Still, 
 the  injunction  may  have  been  given  in  view  of  tbe  character  of  the  indi- 
 vidual Pharisees  before  him,  who  may  have  been  known  as  avaricious  men  ;. 
 and  Christ  may  have  known  that  to  part  with  their  money  would  be  a  test 
 of  love  which  they  could  not  stand.  If  it  Ik;  supposed  that  the  words  are 
 not  accurately  reported,  and  that  the  special  injunction  is  due  to  the  writer. 
 and  not  to  Christ,  still  the  connexion  sufficiently  guards  even  the  writer 
 from  the  charge  of  setting  forth  the  opus  operatum. 
 
 All  difficulties  would  disappear  if  we  could  assume  th.at  Christ  intende<l 
 only  to  point  out  the  prevailing  spirit  in  which  the  Pharisees  acted,  and 
 the  sophi.sms  with  which  they  satisfied  their  con.sciences.  "As  to  your 
 inward  parts,  all  you  have  to  do  in  to  give  alms,  and  lo !  all  is  clean  for 
 you  I"  (You  think  that  alms-giving  is  to  cleanse  your  life  and  atone  for 
 your  sins.)  Although  this  view  di>es  not  apjx'ar  perfectly  simple  and 
 natural,  I  cannot  sliare  in  the  decisive  sentence  which  modern  writers,  and 
 even  De  Wctte,  have  pronounced  against  it.  It  may  be  connected  with 
 verne  42,  as  follows  :  "  You  cannot  with  this  mock  piety  satisfy  the  law  of 
 (!i>d,  and  escape  his  judgments;  but  Woe  unto  youf"  He  then  adds 
 another  illustration — their  "  tithing  of  aint,"  &c.  as  corresponding  to  their 
 
THE  POWER  OF  TRUTH,  2G9 
 
 giving  '•■  tithes "  of  tlie  most  trifling  products  (mint,  cummin, 
 &,c.),  and  entirely  neglecting  the  moi-e  essential  duties  of 
 righteousness  and  love.  Their  vanity  and  haughtiness  were 
 shown  (v.  43)  in  their  claiming  to  lord  it  over  every  body. 
 They  were  (v.  44)  like  tomb.s,  so  heautifiiUy  painted,  that  no 
 one  would  suppose  them  to  be  gi-aves;  but  whose  fair  exterior 
 concealed  nothing  but  putrefaction. 
 
 At  this  point,  a  laioyer^  Avho  was  present  asked  Clmst 
 whether  he  meant  to  apply  these  censures  to  the  class  to  wliich 
 he  belonged,  also.  From  this  the  Saviour  took  occasion,  in  the 
 remainder  of  the  discourse  (v.  45-52),  to  expose  the  crimes  that 
 were  peculiar  to  the  la^svyers. 
 
 §  167. — Christ  warns  his  Disciples  against  the  Pharisees. — The  Putvev  of 
 Divine  Truth.     (Luke  xi.  52  ;  xii.  3.) 
 
 It  is  pi'obable  that  the  conversation,  commenced  at  the 
 breakfast-table,  was  continued  in  the  open  air;''  the  irritated 
 
 kiiul  of  alms-giving  ;  and  contrasts  both  forms  of  hypocrisy  (last  clause  of 
 V.  42)  with  the  tnie  righteousness  and  love  of  which  they  were  destitute. 
 
 s  There  appears  to  have  been  a  marked  distinction  between  these 
 vo^iKolg  and  the  Pharisees  proper.  They  probably  applied  themselves 
 more  to  the  Scriptures  than  to  the  traditions;  not,  however,  whoU}^  reject- 
 ing the  authority  of  the  latter.  (Perhaps  they  formed  a  transition  sect  to 
 the  later  Karaites.)  This  might  account  for  their  expecting  Christ  to 
 express  himself  more  favourably  of  them  than  of  the  Pharisees,  Ijut  did  not 
 save  them  from  his  reproach.  They  could  derive  a  lifeless  and  unspiritual 
 system  fi'om  the  letter  of  the  Scrij^tures  as  well  as  fi'om  traditions  ;  could 
 be  as  severe  as  the  Pharisees  in  judging  others,  and  as  indulgent  towards 
 themselves.  This  distinction  between  the  vofiiKoi  and  the  others  confirms 
 tlie  originality  of  Luke.  Strauss  and  De  Wttte  think  that  these  interlocu- 
 tions of  other  persons,  giving  occasion  to  new  turns  of  the  discourse — a 
 sort  of  table-taUi — belong  merely  to  the  peculiar  tlress  wliicli  Luke  gives  to 
 the  account ;  but  it  appears  to  me,  on  the  contrary,  that  their  ajit  adapta- 
 tion to  the  several  speakers  is  a  strong  proof  of  the  originality  of  the 
 narrative.  They  belong  to  the  very  ciiaracter  of  table  conversation  ;  and 
 their  faithful  and  accurate  tran.smission  may  be  easily  accounted  for  ;  tl)ey 
 were  probably  again  and  again  repeated,  and  finally,  in  aid  of  memory, 
 committed  to  writing.  Any  argument  against  the  verisimilitude  of  these 
 accounts,  drawn  from  the  modern  etiquette  of  the  table,  is  totally  out  of 
 place,  and  valueless.  ^r 
 
 •*  We  see  ft-om  Luke  xi.  53,  compared  with  xii.  1,  that  the  conversation 
 was  continued.  The  transition  is  not  managed  with  the  art  that  we  should 
 look  for  in  a.  fictitious  narrative  ;  had  Luke  invented  the  dialogue,  he  would 
 haialy  have  joined  so  awkwardlj',  without  any  connecting  link,  the  tabic 
 conversation  with  the  discourse  afterward  delivered  to  the  multitude,  but 
 our  assertion  tliat  Luke,  in  describing  tlie  table-talk  with  what  preceded 
 and  followed,  has  actually  given  us  a  real  scene  from  the  life  of  Christ, 
 docs  not  imply  there  is  nothuig  in  the  statement  that  belongs  in  another 
 place.  Things  are  repeated  here  which  we  find  often  in  both  Matthew  and 
 Luke.     The  case  was  probably  as  follows  :  an  original  body  of  discourse. 
 
270  SECOITD  GEST:RAL  MINISTKY  in  GALILEE. 
 
 Pharisees  interrogated  him  anew,  seeking,  by  captious  ques- 
 tions, to  find  some  handle  by  which  to  gratify  their  malice  and 
 seciire  the  vengeance  wliich  they  hoped  to  wTeak  upon  him. 
 A  multitude  of  other  persons  gathered ;  groups  were  formed 
 around  Christ;  and  the  Pharisees  finally  withdrew.  The 
 Saviour  then  addressed  himself  to  the  immediate  circle  of  his 
 disciples,  and  gave  them  warnings  aud  cautions,  probably  occa- 
 sioned by  the  recent  machinations  of  the  Pharisees.  "  JJeware 
 of  the  leaven  of  tlie  Pharisees,  which  is  hypocrisy ;"  a  leaven 
 which  impregnates  all  that  comes  from  them,  and  poisons  all 
 who  come  in  contact  with  them.  They  were  to  be  on  their 
 guard;  to  trust  no  appearances;  the  hostile  aim  was  there, 
 even  when  carefully  concealed.  All  theii*  acts  alike  were 
 poisoned  by  hypocrisy;  against  them  all  it  would  be  necessary 
 to  watch.i 
 
 e.  g.  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  a  conversation  on  some  special  occasion, 
 at  table  or  elsewhere,  was  handed  down  and  written,  subsequently,  in 
 particular  memoirs.  Other  separate  expressions,  not  .«pecitically  con- 
 nected with  them,  were  also  handed  down,  and  were  incorporated  in 
 suitable  places  in  the  larger  discourses,  the  more  effectually  to  secure  their 
 preservation  and  transmission.  Such  may  have  been  the  case  in  the 
 passage  before  us  ;  e.  g.  xi.  49,  for  example,  which  is  gi%'en,  in  its  original 
 form,  in  Christ's  last  an ti- Pharisaic  discourse.  Matt,  xxiii.  34. 
 
 '  We  do  not  know  how  far  the  leaven  of  the  Pharisees  did  succeed  in 
 poisoning  the  heart  of  an  Iscariot.  The  caution  in  the  text  was  obviously 
 occasioned  by  the  pretended  friendship  of  the  Pharisee  who  invited  Christ 
 to  breakfast,  and  by  the  captious  questions,  put  to  him  under  pretence  of 
 securing  his  opinions  on  important  points.  We  do  not  find  the  passage  in 
 as  original  a  form  in  Matt.  xvi.  G  ;  the  Pharisees  are  connected  (as  is  often 
 done  in  Matt.)  with  the  Sadducccs ;  a  connexion,  as  we  have  remarked 
 before,  not  natural  or  probable.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how  Christ 
 could  have  connected  the  doctrine  of  tlie  Pharisees  with  that  of  the  Sad- 
 ducees  ;  or  how  he  could  have  warned  his  disciples  against  the  influence  of 
 the  latter,  to  which,  from  their  own  religious  stand-point,  and  the  circle  of 
 society  in  which  they  moved,  they  certainly  were  not  exposed.  Schnecken- 
 hwrger  (Stud.  d.  Geist.  Wiirtemb.  vi.  1,  48),  indeed,  says  that  the  doctrine 
 of  the  Pharisees  coidd  not  have  been  alluded  to  either,  because  Christ 
 recommends  the  latter  himself  (Matt,  xxiii.  3).  But  we  cannot  agree  with 
 him  ;  Christ's  object,  in  the  passage  quoted,  is  to  contrast  the  rigid  precepts 
 of  the  Pharisees  with  their  practice.  It  was  the  example  of  their  life  that 
 the  disciples  were  to  guard  against ;  but  as  their  righteousness  was  to 
 exceed  that  of  the  Pharisees,  they  were  enjoined  to  live  up  even  to  the 
 strict  precepts  of  that  sect,  so  that  none  might  be  able  to  accuse  them  of 
 violating  the  law.  But  surely  there  was  nothing  in  this  inconsistent  with 
 opposition,  on  Christ's  part,  to  the  doctrines  of  tho  Pharisees  in  other 
 respects  ;  and  proofs  of  such  opposition  abound  in  the  Evangelists.  It  is 
 possible,  from  the  connexion  in  Matt,  that  Christ  may  have  given  his 
 warning  in  view  of  Pharisaic  ideas  of  the  kingdom  of  God  and  of  the  signs 
 of  its  appearance,  and  that  the  figure  of  the  leaven  may  have  been  intended 
 
THE  PARALYTIC  HEALED.  271 
 
 After  tliis  note  of  warning,  which  probably  perturbed  theu* 
 minds,  he  allowed  them,  for  their  comfort,  to  catch  a  glimpse 
 of  the  coming  triumphs  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  of  the 
 A-ictories  which  liis  truth  should  achieve.  The  craft  of  men, 
 he  told  them,  shoidd  not  check  its  progress;  it  should  make 
 its  way  by  the  power  of  God.  Has  truth,  as  yet  veiled  and 
 covered,  was  to  be  brought  to  the  knowledge  of  all  men.  ^'Fw 
 there  is  nothing  covered  that  shall  not  he  revealed;  and  hid,  that 
 slwll  not  he  knoion.  W/tat  I  tell  you  in  darkness,  that  speak  ye 
 in  light :  and  v)hat  ye  liear  in  the  ear,  that  lyreach  ye  upon  the 
 lumse-tops  (the  flat  roofe  of  Eastern  dwellings). "J  And  with 
 this  promise,  too,  is  connected  an  exhortation  to  firmness  and 
 steadfastness  in  their  struggles  for  the  tiiith :  "Be  not  afraid 
 oftli/em  tJiat  kill  the  body,"^  &c. 
 
 %  168. — Christ  Heeds  a  Paralytic  at  Capernaum,  and  the  Pharisees  accuse 
 him  of  Blasphemy. — The  Accusation  Repelled.  (Matt.  ix.  1;  Mark  ii. 
 1  ;  Luke  v.  17.) 
 
 The  attack  made  upon  Christ  at  Jerusalem  involved,  as  we 
 have  seen,  two  chai'ge.s,  viz.  that  he  violated  the  law,  and  that 
 he  assumed  a  power  and  dignity  to  which  no  man  could  have 
 a  right.  The  Pharisees  continvied  their  persecutions,  on  the 
 same  grounds,  in  GraJilee  also,  where  his  labours  offered  them 
 
 to  apply  to  this  ;  but  yet  it  is  more  natural  to  explain  it  as  alluding  (in 
 Luke's  sense)  to  the  hypocrisy  of  the  sect,  which  Christ  had  just  before 
 condemned.  In  Mark  viii.  15,  indeed,  no  other  sense  is  admissible  ;  the 
 disciples  might  be  "warned  against  the  hypocrisy  of  Herod  Antipas,  but  not 
 against  his  doctnne.  It  raay,  uideed  be  said  that  Luke's  version  is  the 
 original  one  ;  that  Matthew,  as  was  usual  with  him,  added  Sadducees  to 
 Pharisees  ;  and  that  Mark,  finding  this  imsuitable,  substituted  Herod.  In 
 answer  to  this,  Christ  may  have  employed  the  phrase  more  than  once.  In 
 the  case  of  Herod,  the  caution  was  not  uncalled  for  ;  the  disciples  might 
 have  been  deceived  by  his  wish  to  see  Jesus,  although  he  wished  it  with  no 
 good  intentions.  Mark  probably  employed  a  dififerent  and  original 
 account  ;  and,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  the  substitution  of  the  Sadducees 
 for  Herod  was  unlikely  :  it  is  not  knoAvn  that  Herod  was  a  Pharisee. 
 
 J  In  Matt.  X.  26,  27,  these  words  are  incorporated  into  the  discourse  at 
 the  mission  of  the  Apostles,  in  which  several  other  passages  are  out  of  place. 
 Their  form,  is  probably  more  accurately  given  in  Matt,  than  in  Luke  ;  in 
 the  fonner,  it  is  what  they  hear  that  is  to  be  proclaimed  ;  in  the  latter, 
 what  they  speah ;  for  at  that  time  the  disciples  themselves  did  not  fully 
 understand  and  utter  the  truth  among  themselves.  It  was  only  to  become 
 plain  to  them  at  a  later  period. 
 
 ''  Other  things  are  added,  after  Luke  xii.  5,  probably  out  of  their  proper 
 connexion  ;  especially  the  "  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,"  of  which 
 we  have  spoken  before  (p.  263).  I  cannot  adopt  the  interpretation  of 
 ScMeierm.acher,  which  is  adapted  to  the  passage  as  if  this  were  its  proper 
 place. 
 
272  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 many  points  of  assault.  But  against  all  such  attacks  his  Di- 
 -lane  gi'eatness  only  displayed  itself  the  more  cousjiicuously. 
 
 On  one  occasion,  he  returned  to  Capernaum  fi-om  one  of  liis 
 preacliing  tours,  and,  when  his  arrival  was  known,  many  ga- 
 thered around  liini.  Some  sought  him  to  hear  the  words  of 
 life  from  his  lips ;  to  obtain  help  for  then-  bodies  or  their  souls ; 
 others,  doubtless,  with  hostile  intent,  to  put  captious  questions, 
 and  act  as  spies  upon  his  words  and  actions ;  and  curiosity,  too, 
 had  done  its  part;  so  that  the  door  of  the  house  was  beset 
 ■with  people.  The  Saviom*  was  inten-upted  in  liis  teaching  by 
 a  gi-eat  noise  Avithout.  A  man  palsied  in  all  his  limbs,  tor- 
 mented by  pain  of  body  and  anguish  of  heart,  had  caused  liim- 
 self  to  be  carried  thither.  His  disease  may  have  been  caused 
 by  sinful  excesses;  or  it  may  have  so  awakened  liis  sense  of 
 guilt,  as  that  he  felt  it  to  be  a  pmiishment  for  his  sins ;  but,  be 
 this  as  it  may,  the  disease  of  his  body  and  the  distress  of  his 
 soul  seem  to  have  been  closely  connected,  and  to  have  reacted 
 upon  each  other.'  Both  reqriired  to  be  healed,  in  order  to  a 
 ratlical  cui'e.  Though  the  bodily  ailment  was  a  real  one,  and 
 not  due  to  a  psychical  cause,  still,  such  was  the  recipi-ocal 
 action  of  spirit  and  body,  that  the  spiritual  anguish  had  first 
 to  be  remedied.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the  (Usease  seemed 
 to  be  a  j)unishment  for  sin,  he  needed,  for  the  healing  of  liis 
 soul,  a  sensible  pledge  of  the  pardon  of  his  sins;  and  such  a 
 pledge  he  was  to  find  in  the  cure  of  his  palsy. 
 
 Four  men  carried  the  couch  on  which  the  sick  man  lay ;  but 
 the  thi'ong  was  so  gi"eat  tliat  they  could  not  make  their  way 
 thi'ough.  The  i)alsied  man  was  anxious  to  see  the  Saviour,  by 
 whom  he  hoped  to  be  relieved.  Entrance  by  the  door  was 
 impossible ;  but  the  Oriental  mode  of  building  afforded  a 
 means  of  access,  to  wliich  they  at  once  had  recourse.  Passing 
 up  the  stairs,  which  led  from  the  outside  to  the  flat  roof  of  the 
 house,"*  they  made  an  opening  by  removing  part  of  the  tiles, 
 and  let  the  couch  do^vn  into  an  xipper  chamber. 
 
 '  Schldermacher  concluded,  from  the  great  pains  that  were  taken,  and 
 the  unusual  means  that  were  resorted  to  to  bring  the  sick  man  to  Christ, 
 that  the  Saviour  was  about  to  depart  immediately  from  tlie  city.  But 
 Mark's  account  shows  that  he  had  just  returned,  and  that  a  vast  crowd  had 
 gathered  about  him.  A  momentary  exacerbation  of  the  sick  man's  suffer- 
 ings may  have  caused  the  haste ;  but  we  do  not  know  enough  about  his 
 case  to  decide  this. 
 
 "  The  accounts  of  Mark  and  Luke  bear  throughout  the  vivid  stamp  of 
 eye-witnesses.  The  unusual  feature  of  the  event  is  related  in  the  simplest 
 I)ossible  way,  without  a  trace  of  exaggeration ;  and  it  is  all  in  perfect 
 
THE  PARALYTIC  HEALED.  273 
 
 Christ's  first  words  to  the  sick  man,  addressed  to  his  longing 
 and  faith,  were,  "Son,  thy  sins  befwgiven  thee;'''  and  this  halm, 
 poiu'ed  into  the  wounded  spirit,  prepared  the  way  for  the  heal- 
 ing of  his  corporeal  malady. 
 
 The  Pharisees,  always  on  the  watch,  seized  upon  this  oppor- 
 tunity to  renew  their  accusations;  he  had  claimed  a  fulness  of 
 power  which  belonged  to  God  alone ;  the  power,  namely,  to 
 forgive  sins.  Percei\'ing  their  uTitation,  he  appealed  to  a  fact 
 which  could  not  be  denied,  as  proof  that  he  claimed  no  poAver 
 which  he  could  not  fidly  exercise.  ["  WItether  is  it  easier  to  say, 
 Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee;  or  to  say,  Arise  and  ivalk?  Bid  that 
 ye  7)iay  know  that  the  Son  of  Man  liath  power  on  earth  to  forgive 
 sins^  (tlien  saith  lie  to  tlie  sick  of  the  pahy^,  Arise,  fake  up  thy  bed, 
 and  go  unto  thy  Iwuse.  And  lie  arose  and  departed  to  his  honse.''^ 
 "  It  is  easy  to  say,  Thy  sins  be  forgiven  thee ;  for  if  these  words 
 really  produce  any  result,  it  could  not  be  perceptible  to  the 
 
 keeping  with  Oriental  life.  Strauss  assumes,  without  the  slightest  ground, 
 that  these  accounts  are  exaggerated  copies  of  Matthew's  ^ix.  1),  which  is 
 much  the  most  simple.  We  have  far  more  reason  to  take  it  the  other  way, 
 and  consider  Matthew's  as  an  abrkh/cd  statement,  the  main  object  of  which 
 was  to  report  what  Christ  said,  and  not  to  give  a  full  detail  of  the  circum- 
 stances. /S'(;*a?'«s  says,  further,  that  the  words  "  ichcn  he  saw  their  faith," 
 gave  occasion  for  the  invention  of  the  story  of  the  letting  down  of  the  bier 
 through  the  roof,  &c.  Let  us  look  at  this.  If  Jesus  set  so  high  a  value 
 upon  the  faith  of  the  men,  he  did  it,  either  because  he  saw  their  faith  by 
 that  glance  of  his  which  searched  men's  hearts,  or  because  they  gave  some 
 outward  sign  of  it.  [>S^ca««s  would  not  be  likely  to  admit  the  fii'st,  and  the 
 second]  is  precisely  met  by  the  statement  of  Luke.  Moreover,  an  inven- 
 tion of  this  kind  would  have  been  iitterly  inconsistent  with  the  spirit  of 
 early  Christianity,  which  had  too  high  a  conception  of  Christ's  power  to 
 pierce  the  thoughts  of  men  to  suppose  that  he  needed  any  outward  sign  of 
 a  really  existing  faith.  Again,  if  it  be  agreed  that  admittance  could  be 
 had  by  a  door  in  the  roof,  it  may  be  questioned  whether  such  a  door  would 
 be  large  enough  to  admit  a  couch.  But,  probably,  no  such  door  existed  in 
 Eastern  houses.  Joseph.  Archseol.  1.  xiv.  xv.  §1-,  confirms  this.  Herod  I. 
 had  taken  a  village,  in  which  there  were  many  of  the  enemy's  soldiers  : 
 part  of  them  were  taken  on  the  roofs,  and  then,  it  is  %iid,  ''  roi'c  opotpovg 
 Tbiv  o'lKMv  KaracsKinTTiov,  tfiTrXta  tu  KUTio  twv  arpd-noTMi'  iupa  aOpowQ 
 aTreiWrjuixki'wv."  Even  those  who  suppose  Mark's  account  to  be  an 
 imitation  of  Luke's,  or  of  the  aTrof.ivi]j.i6vtv^a  which  Luke  followed,  must 
 still  admit  that  it  implies  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  the  construction 
 of  Eastern  houses.  Had  there  been  a  way  of  getting  through  the  roof 
 otherwise,  he  would  not  have  said  that  they  Iroht  it.  As  I  have  said 
 before,  Mark's  details,  in  many  places,  imply  that  he  u.sed  a  separate 
 authority  ;  although  I  cannot  believe,  with  some,  that  his  Gospel  was  the 
 original  basis  of  Matthew  and  Luke. 
 
 "  God  forgives  the  sins  in  heaven,  but  Christ,  as  Man,  announces  the 
 Divine  forgiveness.  "  Son  of  Man"  and  •' /»  raj'iA"  are  correlative  con- 
 ceptions. 
 
 T 
 
274  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 senses,  and,  for  that  reason,  the  lack  of  the  result  could  not 
 convict  au  impostor;"  but  he  who  says,  Ai-ise  and  walk  must 
 really  possess  the  power  which  his  words  claim,  or  his  untnith 
 will  be  immediately  exposed." 
 
 And  the  fact  that  the  Divine  power  of  his  words  revivified 
 the  dead  limbs  of  the  paralytic  proved  that  he  had  the  power, 
 by  granting  forgiveness  of  sins,  to  awaken  the  dead  soul  to  a 
 new  spiritual  life.    In  this  case  the  two  were  boimd  togethei*. 
 
 §  169. — The  Witliered  Hand  healed  on  the  Salhath. — T/ie  Objections  of 
 the  Pharisees  anticipated  and  refuted.  (Mark  iii.  1-6  j  Luke  vi.  6-8  ; 
 Matt.  xii.  10.) 
 
 A  man  with  a  withei*ed  hand  appeared  in  the  synagogue  on 
 a  certain  Sabbath  while  Christ  was  teaching,  probably  at  Ca- 
 pernaum. The  Pharisees,  perhaps,  had  brought  him  there,  as 
 they  stood  by  and  watched  eagex'ly  to  see  what  Christ  would 
 do ;  but  the  latter  saw  then*  purpose,  and  acted  with  his  cha- 
 racteristic calmness  and  confidence.  Taking  no  notice  whatever 
 of  his  crafty  foes  until  he  had  called  the  sufierer  forth  into  the 
 midst  of  the  synagogue,  he  then,  by  putting  an  unavoidable 
 dilemma  to  the  Pharisees,  anticipated  all  that  they  could  say  : 
 "  Is  it  lawoful  to  do  good  on  the  Sabbath  days,  or  to  do  evil;  to 
 save  life,  or  to  kill  ? "  This  question  did  not  ofier  a  choice  be- 
 tween doing  or  not  doing  a  specific  good,  but  between  doing 
 the  good  or  its  opposite  evil ;  and  even  the  Pharisees  could  not 
 pretend  to  hesitate  as  to  the  reply.  It  was  precisely  for  this 
 reason  that  Christ  so  put  it. 
 
 But  Avas  he  justified  in  this?  Let  us  see.  The  point  as- 
 sumed was,  that  a  sin  of  omission  is  also  a  sin  of  commissimi. 
 Whoever  omits  to  do  a  good  act  wliich  he  has  the  power  and, 
 therefore,  the  calling  to  do,  is  responsible  for  all  the  evil  that 
 may  flow  from  his  omission ;  e.  ^.  if  he  can  save  a  neighbour's 
 life,  he  ought;  and  if  he  does  not,  he  is  guilty  of  his  death.!' 
 So  with  the  case  of  this  lame  man ;  there  he  was ;  Christ  could 
 cure  him ;  Christ  might  to  cure  him ;  and,  if  he  did  not,  would 
 be  responsible  for  the  continuance  of  his  impotency.  That  it 
 was  a  duty  to  save  life  on  the  Sabbath  was  taught  even  by  the 
 Pharisees  themselves;  and,  as  the  spint  of  the  law  required, 
 Christ  extended  the  piinciple  fui-ther.     The  exception  allowed 
 
 "  It  was  only  in  this  sense,  and  not  with  reference  to  the  act  of  power 
 in  itself,  that  Ciirist  said,  "  It  it  easier,"  &c. 
 
 P  WUke's  objections  {Urevangelisten,  p.  191)  to  the  word  airoKrt'ivai  are 
 not  decisive.  A  strong  word  would  naturally  be  used  by  Christ  to  give 
 empliasis  to  the  declaration  that,  in  such  a  case,  not  to  save  life,  is  to  kill. 
 
THE  IXFIRM  HEALED.  275 
 
 by  the  Pharisees  showed  that  the  law  could  not,  uncondition- 
 ally, be  literally  fiUfilled. 
 
 After  putting  his  question,  he  looked  around  to  see  if  any 
 of  them  "would  venture  a  reply.  All  were  silent.  Then,  with 
 Di^dne  word  of  power,  he  said  to  the  lame  man,  "Stretch  forth 
 thine  hand;"  and  it  was  done.*! 
 
 §  170. —  Cure  of  the  Infirm  Woman  on  the  Sabbath;  the  Pharisees  discon- 
 certed.    \^L\ike  xiii.  10.) — Of  the  Dropsical  Man.     (Luke  xiv.) 
 
 On  another  Sabbath,  wliile  Christ  was  teaching  in  the  syna- 
 gogue, his  attention  was  arrested  by  a  woman,  who  had  gone 
 for  eighteen  years  bowed  together  and  unable  to  erect  herself. 
 He  called  her  to  him,  and  laid  his  hands  upon  her;  she  was 
 healed,  and  thanked  God. 
 
 The  ruler  of  the  synagogue,  not  venturing  to  attack  ChrLst 
 directly,  turned  and  reproached  the  people  with,  There  are  six 
 days  in  which  men  ought  to  work;  in  tliem,  tlierefore,  come,  and 
 he  healed,  and  not  on  the  Sabbath  day.  Christ  saw  that  the  re- 
 proach was  intended  for  himself;  and  exposed  to  the  man  (who 
 only  illustrated  the  sjiirit  of  his  whole  party)  the  hypocrisy  of 
 his  language,  and  the  contrast  between  Pharisaic  actions  and  a 
 Pharisaic  show  of  zeal  for  the  law,  by  the  question.  Doth  not 
 each  of  you,  on  tJie  Sabbath,  loose  his  ox  w  his  ass  from  the  stall, 
 and  lead  him  away  to  watering .?  And  shall  not  this  daughter'  of 
 Abraham,  wloom  Satan  Itath  bound,  lot  these  eighteen  years,  be 
 loosed  from  this  bond  on  the  Sabbath  dayP 
 
 1  It  is  obvious  that  the  accounts  of  this  event  in  Matthew,  Mark,  and 
 Luke  were  written  independently  of  each  other,  from  independent  sources  ; 
 and  this  seems  to  confirm  their  truth.  Immediate  originality,  and  the 
 vivacity  of  an  eye-witness,  are  strikingly  exhibited  in  Luke's  account ;  e.  g. 
 before  the  Pharisees  open  their  lips,  Christ  anticipates  them  both  by  word 
 and  deed,  which  is  much  more  characteristic  than  Matthew's  statement. 
 And  as  for  Christ's  words,  as  given  by  Luke,  being  due  to  a  later  revision 
 of  the  original,  it  is  the  less  likely,  because  the  striking  application  of 
 which  they  admit  does  not  lie  upon  the  surface  at  all.  The  clause  in  Matt. 
 xii.  12,  (KecTTi  role  SaCCoiri  KaXiJg  iruulv,  gives  a  hint  of  the  thought 
 more  fully  developed  in  Luke.  As  to  Matt.  xii.  11,  it  may  be  out  of 
 place  ;  and,  in  that  case,  may  be  the  same  as  Luke  xiv.  5,  in  a  different 
 form,  the  latter  being  supposed  to  give  the  true  occasion  on  which  the 
 words  were  uttered.  But  it  is  just  as  possible  that  Christ  uttered  the  same 
 thought  on  two  occasions  ;  or  that  he  appended  both  illustrations  to  his 
 answer  to  the  question  given  in  Luke  vi.  9. 
 
 '  The  expression  "  whom  Satan  hath  boimd"  may  imply  a  demoniacal 
 possession,  a  state,  perhaps,  of  melancholy  imbecility ;  and  the  words 
 TTvivfia  da9tvtiag  appear  to  confirm  this.  But  they  may  also  be  referred 
 to  the  connexion  between  sin  and  evil  in  general,  or  in  this  particular 
 case  :  and  so  a  demoniacal  possession,  in  the  fidl  sense,  need  not  be  pre- 
 
 t2 
 
276  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Often  the  hidden  aims  of  the  Pharisees  were  veiled  in  the 
 garb  of  friendliness ;  but  the  Sa\iour  anticipated  their  attacks 
 before  they  Avere  uttei'ed,  and  thus  often  prevented  theii"  utter- 
 ance at  all.  An  illustration  of  this  is  to  bo  found  .in  the  ac- 
 coimt  given  by  Luke  (xiv.)  of  a  meal  taken  at  the  house  of 
 Ji  Pharisee,  by  whom  he  had  been  in\-ited  on  the  Sabbath. 
 Whether  by  accident,  or  by  the  contrivance  of  the  Pharisees,  a 
 dropsical  man  was  there,  seeking  to  be  healed.  Jesus  first 
 turned  and  asked  them,  Is  it  lavjful  to  Iieal  on  tJie  Sabbath  day .? 
 When  they  made  no  reply,  he  touched  the  man  and  cured  him. 
 When  he  had  left  the  house,  the  Saviour  saw  that  the  Phari- 
 sees were  tlisposed  to  put  an  ill  consti-uction  on  what  he  had 
 done ;  and  appealed,  as  he  had  done  before,  to  the  testimony 
 of  their  own  conduct :  Which  of  you  shall  have  an  ox  or  an  ass 
 faUen  into  a  pit,  and  iinU  not  straightway  jniU  him  out  on  the 
 Sahhaih  day  ? 
 
 §  171. — The  Strife  for  Precedence  at  Feasts. — The  Poor,  not  the  Rich,  to  be 
 invited. — Parable  of  the  Great  Supper.     (Luke  xiv.) 
 
 When  the  time  of  sitting  down  to  the  meal  an-ived,  there 
 wa«  a  strife  for  precedence  among  the  Pharisees,  forming  an 
 apt  display  of  their  vanity  and  pride  of  rank ;  and  illustrating, 
 in  the  lower  sphere  of  life,  the  an-ogant  and  evil  disposition 
 which  they  can-ied  into  the  higher,  and  which  totally  unfitted 
 them  for  the  kingdom  of  God.  Christ  took  the  occasion  to 
 contra.st  this  ha\ighty  spii-it  of  theirs  ^vith  spiritual  prudence, 
 the  ti-ue  wisdom  of  the  kingdom,  by  giving  them,  in  a  para- 
 bolic form,  a  rule  of  prudence  for  the  lower  sphere  of  life. 
 
 This  mle  wa.s,  that,  instead  of  appropriating  the  highest 
 seat,  and  thus  expo.sing  one's  self  to  the  shame  of  being  bidden 
 to  leave  it,  one  should  rather  seek  the  lowest  place,  and  thus 
 have  the  chance  of  being  honoured,  before  all  the  guest.s,  by  an 
 invitation  to  a  higher.  It  is  obvious  enough,  on  the  face  of 
 this,  that  Christ  did  not  intend  it  merely  as  a  inile  of  social 
 courtesy;  he  himself  (v.  11)  .sets  forth  the  prominent  thought 
 illu.strated,  viz. :  that,  to  be  exalted  by  God,  we  must  humble 
 ourselves ;  that  all  self-exaltation  can  only  deprive  us  of  that 
 huraihty  which  constitutes  true  elevation. 
 
 During  the  repast,  the  Saviour  turned  to  the  host  and  at- 
 tacked the  prevailing  selfishness  that  niled  all  the  conduct  of 
 the  Pharisees.     He  illustrated  this  by  contiusting  that  selfi.sh 
 
 supjjosed.  The  tenns  may  have  been  used  in  view  of  prevalent  opiniona, 
 or  because  of  the  peculiar  fonu  in  which  Chri«t  wished  to  express  himBelf 
 in  tills  case. 
 
THE  SABBATH.  n  277 
 
 hospitality  which  looks  to  a  recompense  ^\^th  the  genuine 
 love  that  does  good  and  asks  no  return.  The  heart  that  is  fit 
 for  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  looks  to  no  earthly  reward,  but 
 will  receive,  in  their  stead,  the  heavenly  riches  (v.  12 — 14)  of 
 that  kingdom. 
 
 One  of  th«  guests,  probably  wishing  to  turn  the  conversa- 
 tion from  a  disagreeable  subject,  seized  upon  the  words  uttered 
 by  Christ,  to  allude  to  the  blessedness  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 "Blessed"  said  he,  "is  he  that  shall  eat  hreaJ  in  tlie  kingdom  of 
 God."  He  may  have  borrowed  the  figure  from  the  scene 
 around  liini ;  or,  perhaps,  employed  it  from  a  tendency  to  Chi- 
 liastic  ideas  of  heaven.  On  this,  Ohiist  took  occasion  to  show 
 the  Pharisees,  who  deemed  themselves  secure  of  a  share  in  the 
 Messianic  kingdom,  how  utterly  destitute  they  were  of  its 
 moral  requisites,  aud  how  far  those  whom  they  most  despised 
 wei"e  superior  to  them  in  this  respect.  He  demanded  a  dispo- 
 sition of  hcax-t  ready  to  appreciate  the  true  nature  of  the  king- 
 dom of  God  as  manifested  and  proclaimed,  and  willing  to  for- 
 sake all  things  else  in  order  to  lay  hold  of  it. 
 
 To  set  this  ■vi^•idly  before  their  minds,  he  made  use  of  the 
 figure  of  a  supper,  suggested,  doubtless,  by  the  circumstances 
 around  hiin.  The  Jirst  in\ated — those  to  whom  the  servant  is 
 sent  to  say,  ^' Come, /or  all  things  are  now  ready'' — are  the  Pha- 
 risees, who,  on  account  of  their  life-long  devotion  to  the  study 
 of  the  law,  and  their  legal  i)iety,  deemed  themselves  cei-tain  of 
 a  call  to  share  in  the  Divme  kingdom.  They  are  not  accased, 
 in  the  parable,  of  decided  hostility,  but  of  indifference  to  that 
 which  ought  to  be  theii-  highest  interest.  Not  knowing  how 
 to  value  the  invitation,  they  excuse  themselves  from  accepting 
 it  under  various  pretexts.  The  character  of  all  persons,  indeed, 
 who  are  too  busi/  to  give  heed  to  Christ's  words,  is  here  illus- 
 trated. 
 
 When  the  in\ited  guests  I'efused  to  come,  a  call  was  seat 
 forth  for  "  ilie  poor,  the  maimed,  th/i  halt,  and  the  blind;"  gue.sts 
 unin\-ited,  indeed,  and  not  ex[)ectiug  such  an  honour.  By 
 these  we  undei-stand  the  despised  ones,  the  pubhcans  and 
 sinnei-s,  whom  Christ  took  to  his  embrace. 
 
 Still  there  is  room;  the  highways  must  be  ransacked;  that 
 is,  the  heathen,  strangers  to  the  Theocratic  kingdom,  are  to  ha 
 summoned  to  Christ's  kingdom. 
 
 §  172. — The  P/iurisces  attack  the  Dixclpkn  for  plucling  Corn  o»«  tJte  Sabbath. 
 — Christ  defends  them.     (Luke  vi.  1  ;  Matt.  xii.  18.) 
 
 During  the  first  or  second  year  of  Clmst's  labours  in  Galilee, 
 
278  SECOND  GENEBAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 he  walked,  on  the  first  Sabbath  after  the  Passover,^  through  a 
 corn-field  with  his  disciples.  The  corn  was  lipe;  and  the 
 disciples,  urged  by  hunger,  plucked  a  few  ears,  rubbed  them  in 
 their  hands,*^  and  ate  them.  Some  of  the  Pharisees  (always  on 
 the  alert)  reproached  them  for  doing  such  a  thing  on  the  Sab- 
 bath day.  As  the  charge  was,  in  fact,  meant  for  Christ  him- 
 self, he  replied  to  and  refuted  it;  and  not  content  -with  bare 
 refutation,  he  intimated  a  higher  tnith,  which  could  not  be 
 brought  out  cleai-ly  and  fiiUy  until  a  later  period. 
 
 First,  he  showed  to  the  Pharisees,  on  their  own  gi'ound,  the 
 falsity  of  their  slavish  adherence  to  the  letter  of  the  law. 
 David,  he  told  them,  violated  their  principle  in  satisfying  his 
 hunger  with  the  sacred  bread,  when  no  other  coiild  be  had."^ 
 The  Mosaic  law  itself  opposed  it,  inasmuch  as  the  priests  were 
 necessaiily  compelled,  in  the  Temple  service,  to  infi'inge  upon 
 the  Sabbath  rest ;  clearly  showing  that  not  all  labour  was 
 inconsistent  with  that  rest,  so  that  the  tnie  aim  of  the  law 
 was  kept  in  view.  But  (he  proceeded,  intimating  the  higher 
 tiiith)  if  a  deviation  from  the  letter  of  the  law  was  justifiable 
 in  the  priests,  because  engaged  in  the  Temple-service,  how  much 
 more  in  men  who  were  engaged  in  the  service  of  that  which 
 was  greater  than  the  Temple,  the  highest  manifestation  that  had 
 been  made  to  mankind.^' 
 
 Having  thus  vindicated  the  disciples,  he  opposed  Hosea  vi.  6, 
 to  that  idea  of  religion  which  rests  in  outward  forms  and  lacks 
 the  inward  life;  which,  in  this  as  in  other  cases,  was  the  root 
 of  error  from  which  the  conduct  of  the  Pharisees  proceeded. 
 Had  they  known  that  love  is  greater  than  all  ceremonial  ser- 
 vice, they  would  not  have  been  so  forward  to  condemn  the 
 innocent.^^  For  innocent  the  disciples  were,  who  had  acted  as 
 they  did  for  the  sake  of  the  Son  of  Man,  who  is  greater  than 
 the  Sabbath,  and  who,  as  Lord  over  all  things,  is  Lord  also''  of 
 the  Sabbath,  y      The  Sabbath  was  only  a  means  of  religious 
 
 '^  SdCSrtTov  OivrepoTTpwTov,  Luke  vi.  1.  Meaning,  if  the  reading  be 
 coirect,  the  first  Sabbath  after  the  second  Easter-day,  when  the  first  sheaf 
 of  corn  was  presented  in  the  Temple. 
 
 '  A  customary  way  of  appeasing  hunger  in  those  landa,  even  to  this  day  ; 
 of.  Robinson,  Palestine,  ii.  419  and  430. 
 
 "  1  Sam.  xxi.  '  Cf.  p.  92. 
 
 "  The  ya^  in  Matt.  xii.  8,  may  refer  either  to  v.  7  or  v.  6  ;  in  eitlier 
 case  it  has  a  connexion  of  thought  with  v.  6. 
 
 ^  The  Kai,  in  Luke  vi.  5,  agrees  well  with  this. 
 
 y  Mark  ii.  27,  joins  well  to  this.  The  "man"  cf  v.  27  refers  to  "Son 
 of  Man"  in  v.  28  ;  a  reference  that  cannot  be  conceived  as  the  work  of  a 
 later  hand. 
 
OUTWARD  CLEAJfLINESS  OP  THE  PHARISEES.  279 
 
 development  up  to  a  certain  period.  That  period  had  amved 
 in  the  manifestation  of  the  Son  of  Man,  the  aim  of  all  pre- 
 paratory things,  in  whom  the  original  dignity  of  man  was 
 restored,  the  ideal  of  humanity  realized,  and  the  interior  life  of 
 man  made  independent  of  time  and  place.  ^ 
 
 §  173. — Christ's  Discourse  ar/ainst  the  merely  outicard  Cleanliness  of  the 
 Pharisees. — He  explains  the  Discourse  to  his  Disciples.     (Matt.  xv.  1-20.) 
 
 The  fi'ee  mode  of  life  pursued  by  Christ's  disciples  was 
 always  an  object  of  scrutiny  to  the  Pharisees,  who  were  con- 
 stantly looking  for  signs  of  heresy.  It  could  not  fail  to  give 
 them  opportunities  of  fixing  suspicion  on  the  Master  himself. 
 Once,  when  he  was  surrounded  by  inquiring  tkrongs,  they  put 
 the  question,  invohdng,  also,  an  accusation,  why  his  disciples 
 so  despised  the  ancient  traditions  as  to  neglect  the  ordinary 
 ablutions  before  eating. 
 
 His  reply  was,  in  fact,  an  accusation  against  their  whole 
 system.  He  told  them,  in  effect,  that  all  their  piety  was  out- 
 ward and  hypocritical;  that  they  justified,  by  their  own 
 arbitrary  statutes,  their  actual  violation  of  God's  holy  law,  and 
 thought  to  escape  its  observance  by  their  sophistical  casiustry. 
 Having  thus  repulsed  the  Pharisees,  he  turned  to  the  multitude, 
 and  warned  them  against  the  Pharisaical  tendency  so  destruc- 
 tive to  Jewish  piety,  the  tendency  to  smother  time  religion 
 under  a  mass  of  outward  forms.  "  Hear  and  utiderstand  ;  not 
 that  lohich  goeth  into  the  mouth  defileth  a  man;  hut  that  lohich 
 cometh  ovi  of  the  mouth,  this  defileth  a  man."  Here  Christ  dis- 
 plays the  same  conscious,  lofty  superiority  so  often  manifested 
 in  his  disputes  with  the  Pharisees  (as  recorded  in  John,  as  well 
 as  in  the  synoptical  Gospels) ;  instead  of  softening  down  the 
 offensive  doctrine,  he  presents  it  more  and  more  forcibly  in 
 proportion  as  they  take  offence.  The  words  just  qiioted  might 
 be  interpreted  as  an  attack  upon  the  Mosaical  law  in  respect 
 to  food,  (fee,  and  thus  coidd  afford  the  Pharisees  a  clear  oppor- 
 tunity to  fix  a  charge  of  heresy  upon  him. 
 
 when  the  disciples  called  his  attention  to  the  offence  which 
 the  Pharisees  had  taken,  he  gave  them  to  understand  that  this 
 caused  him  no  uneasiness:  Every  plant  ichich  my  heavenly 
 Father  hath  not  planted  shall  he  rooted  tip;  let  them  alone;  they 
 be  hlind  leaders  of  the  blind;  both  shall  fall  into  the  ditch.  ("AU 
 merely  human  growths — every  thing  not  planted  by  God — 
 
 ^  I  consider  myself  justified  in  finding  all  this  in  the  passage,  by  taking 
 the  words  in  their  full  meaning,  and  comparing  them  with  other  expres- 
 sions of  Christ's. 
 
280  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 must  fall ;  the  Avh.jle  Pharisaic  system  shall  come  to  the  ground. 
 Let  not  their  talk  trouble  you ;  blind  are  they,  and  those  that 
 follow  them ;  both  leaders  and  led  are  going  on  to  destiiic- 
 tion.") 
 
 The  (Usciples  jirobably  expected  a  different  explanation  ; 
 they  were  stiU  too  much  loiled  by  Jewish  "siews  to  api)reheud 
 correctly  the  full  force  of  Christ's  figumti\e  language.  The 
 form  of  exj)r(;ssion  wjus  simi)le  enough  in  itself;  it  was  the 
 sti'ange  thouglit  which  made  it  difficult.  It  was  only  at  a  later 
 period  that  even  Peter  could  leam,  and  that,  too,  by  the  illu- 
 mination of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  eveiy  tiling  is  pm'e,  for  men, 
 wliich  comes  pui-e  from  the  Creator's  hand.  In  the  case  before 
 us,  Peter,  as  spokesman  for  the  disciides,  asked  an  explanation 
 of  the  obscure  point.  In  reply,  Christ  first  expressed  liLs 
 surprise  that,  after  havuig  so  long  enjoyed  liis  society  and 
 teacliing,  they  had  made  so  little  yjrogress  in  religious  know- 
 ledge ;  that  such  a  saying  should  awak-e  their  scnxples  as  well 
 as  the  Pharisees".  "  Do  ye  not  yet  understand,"  said  he,  "that 
 what  enters  a  man's  mouth  fiom  ^Nithout  caimot  defile  the 
 interior  life  ?  It  is  the  product  of  the  lieart,  it  is  that  which 
 comes  from  imthui  that  makes  a  man  unclean." — Tliis  trutli 
 was  then  immediately  applied  only  to  the  ca.se  in  point,  viz.  : 
 eating  Avith  uuwa.shed  hands  ;  tlu;  Asider  application  of  which 
 it  Mas  capable  could  not  be  unfolded  to  them  until  a  much 
 later  period.^ 
 
 §  174. — TrUU  Mission  of  the  Apostles  in  Galilee.     (Luke  ix.  ;  Matt.  x.> 
 
 (1.)  Objects  of  the  Misaiou. — Powers  of  the  Missionaries. 
 The  extended  period  of  time  which  Christ  spent  in  Galileo 
 was  employed,  also,  in  the  education  of  the  men  who  were  to 
 carry  on  his  woi"k  upon  earth.  The  disciples,  at  first,  accom- 
 l)anied  him  as  witnesses  of  his  miuLstiy ;  but,  in  order  to 
 accustom  them  to  independent  laV)oui-s,  and  to  test  their  quali- 
 fications for  the  work,  he  sent  them  forth  on  a  trial  mission. 
 An  additional  object  was  to  sjjread,  by  their  agency,  through 
 all  the  to%vns  and  villages  of  Galilee,  the  announcement  that 
 the  kingdom  of  Gou  had  appeared.  He  l\v  no  means  sent 
 them  to  iiroclaim  the  whole  trutli  of  .salvation ;  they  were  as 
 vet  incapable  of  this ;  and  it  wius  at  a  later  }>eriod  only  that  he 
 promised  the  gift  of  the  Spirit  to  qu:dity  them  for  it.  So  long 
 us  He  remained  u])on  tlie  eai-th,  He  was  the  .sole  teacher. 
 They  were  only  to  procltuni  everywhere  that   the  kingdom  of 
 
 '  ff.  p.  [to. 
 
TKIAL  MISSION  OF  THE  APOSTLES.  281 
 
 God,  the  object  of  all  men's  desire,  had  come ;  to  point  out  to 
 the  people  of  Galilee  the  great  gi-ace  of  God  in  calHng  the 
 Founder  of  that  kingdom  from  their  midat.  Their  present 
 work  was  to  be  a  type  of  their  future  one,  when  the  great 
 work  imthin  them  should  be  accomplished.  As  they  were  to 
 become  bearers  of  the  word,  the  S])irit,  and  the  powei"s  of 
 Christ,  so  preparation  was  already  to  be  made  for  this,  though 
 as  yet  incompletely. 
 
 "  Tlien  lie  called  his  twelve  disdjyles  together,  and  gave  them 
 poioer  and  authonty  over  all  devils,  and  to  cure  diseases.  And 
 lie  sent  them  to  jrroclaiin  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  to  heal  the 
 sick."  We  see  that  Christ  could  communicate  certain  of  the 
 sujternatural  powers  tliat  dwelt  in  him  to  those  who  devoted 
 themselves  to  ser\e  him  as  organs.  But  as  the.se  powei's  ema- 
 nated fi"om  the  source  of  Divine  life  in  him,  so  we  conclude 
 that  the  degree  in  which  they  wei'e  imparted  to  others  de- 
 pended upon  the  degree  in  which  they  had  imbibed  that  life 
 from  him. 
 
 (2.)  Instructions  to  the  Missionaries?.     Reasons  for  the  Exclusion  of  the 
 Samaritans  and  Heathen.     (Matt.  x.  5-6  ;  Luke  ix.  1,  &c. 
 
 The  disciples  thus  sent  forth  were  to  confirm  the  truth  of 
 their  announcement  by  miraculous  acts,  pointing  to  Him  who 
 gave  the  power  to  perform  them.  At  first,  the  general  atten- 
 tion of  the  people  was  only  to  be  called  to  the  great  epoch  that 
 had  dawmed;  the  development  of  the  doctrine  of  the  kingdom 
 was  to  be  left  to  Christ's  own  teaching,  and  to  the  subsequent 
 operations  of  his  Spirit.  Tliis  ex})lains  why  he  did  not  fiirtlu>i- 
 direct  the  Apostles  as  to  what  they  should  teach.  Their 
 mission  was  to  Galilee  alone;  and  the  exclu.sion  of  the  Samari- 
 tans and  heathen'"  is,  therefore,  not  at  all  inconsistent  -with 
 what  we  have  said  of  Christ's  plan  for  the  xmivei^sal  establish- 
 ment of  Ills  kingdom.  AH  the  difficulties  that  have  l>ceu 
 found  in  this  restriction  flow  fi-om  considering  it  apart  from 
 the  proper  peiiod  of  Christ's  life  to  which  it  belongs.  During 
 liis  life  on  earth,  His  ministry  was  to  be  confined  to  the  Jews. 
 Beft>re  the  kingdom  of  God  could  be  planted  among  the  heofhen 
 by  the  proclamation  of  his  truth  in  this  new  form,  it  was  ne- 
 ee.ssaiy  that  the  knowledge  of  it  should  be  fiUly  developed  in 
 
 ^  Matthew  e^-idently  connects  many  things  with  the  instructions  given 
 to  the  Apostles  in  view  of  their  .^cs^  journey,  which,  chronologically,  l)elong 
 later,  viz.  :  to  those  given  at  the  mission  of  the  .Seventy,  which  he  omits. 
 But  it  is  likely  that  Luke  ix.  1,  seq.  gives  but  an  abridgment,  and  we  may 
 fill  it  out  from  Matthew. 
 
282  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 the  disciples ;  and  this  could  only  be  done,  after  his  departure, 
 by  the  enlightening  power  of  the  liigher  Spirit  that  was  to  be 
 imparted  to  them.  The  links  of  the  chain  of  internal  and 
 external  progress,  by  which  this  last  great  event  was  to  be 
 brought  about,  were  closely  bound  to  each  other;  a  premature 
 development  would  only  hinder  instead  of  hastening  the  result. 
 Before  the  Apostles  could  teach  the  heathen,  or  find  access  to 
 their  hearts,  they  had  to  learn  the  j^eculiaiities  of  the  Grospel 
 itself,  as  well  as  its  relations  to  the  religion  of  the  Old  Testa- 
 ment. Even  had  they  succeeded  in  reaching  the  mind  of  the 
 heathen  -with  their  defective  apprehension  of  Christ's  doctrine, 
 and  thus  making  Jews  of  them,  it  would  only  have  been  the 
 more  difficult  afterward  to  eradicate  the  laboriously-planted 
 eiTors,  and  impart  a  pui-e  form  of  Chi-istianity.  But  this 
 knowledge  was  among  the  tilings  of  which  Christ  himself  said 
 to  his  disciples,  "  Ye  cannot  bear  them  now;'"  it  was  bound  up 
 with  many  truths  that  were  as  yet  veiled  from  them.  Nor 
 could  he,  consistently  with  his  plan,  as  we  have  above  imfolded 
 it,<=  impart  these  truths  as  separate  and  ready-made ;  the  fruit 
 of  knowledge  had  to  grow  up  in  their  religioiis  consciousness 
 from  the  seeds  of  knowledge  sown  there  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
 
 The  direction,  therefore,  given  to  the  Apostles,  iwt  to  go  to 
 the  heathen  in  Galilee  and  on  the  border,  necessarily  followed 
 from  the  plan  of  Jesus.  "  But,"  it  may  be  asked,  "  why  did  he 
 not  explain  to  them  the  grounds  of  this  restriction  ?"  It  might 
 be  enough  to  reply  to  this,  that  it  is  not  likely  that  the  fiill 
 instructions,  Avith  the  reasons  in  detail,  are  preserved  to  us, 
 but  only  an  extract  containing  the  most  essential  features. 
 But,  apart  from  this,  Christ  coidd  not  at  that  time  have  given 
 them  all  his  reasons;  for,  in  that  case,  he  must  have  imparted 
 to  them  what  they  could  not  as  yet  comprehend.  They  were 
 tlien  unconscious  oi'gans  for  the  execution  of  his  commands. 
 
 But  their  relation  to  the  Jews  was  quite  a  different  thing. 
 To  the  latter  they  were  to  impart  no  entirely  new  doctrine; 
 and  there  was,  therefore,  no  fear,  as  in  the  case  of  the  heathen, 
 that  they  would  plant  seeds  of  error  which  would  have  to  be 
 uprooted  afterward.  The  Apostles  were  to  take  hold  of  ex- 
 pectations ah-eady  cherished  among  the  Jews,  and  to  prockdm 
 that  the  object  of  desire  had  come.  Tlie  errors  which  yet 
 biassed  their  own  minds  were  shared  by  the  Jews  as  a  body ; 
 errors  from  which  nothing  but  the  spirit  of  the  Gospel  could 
 free  either  them  or  the  Jews.  And,  besides,  they  must  have 
 '  Book  iv.  pt.  i.  chap.  ii. 
 
TRIAL  MISSION  OP  THE  APOSTLES.  283 
 
 received  mauy  seeds  of  tlie  higher  life  from  the  society  and 
 teaching  of  Christ ;  and,  in  scattering  these  ^  they  pould  aid  in 
 preparing  the  ground  for  subsequent  culture. 
 
 Perhaps,  also,  the  Sa\-iour,  in  pointing  out  "</*€  lost  slveep  of 
 the  Jwuse  oflsraer'  as  the  first  objects  of  their  toil,  had  in  view, 
 also,  "otlier  sheep,  not  of  this  fold"'^  belonging  to  those  whom 
 he  had  come  to  collect  into  one  flock,  under  one  shepherd. 
 There  was  sufficient  groimd,  moreover,  for  excluding  Samaiia 
 from  the  sphere  of  tliis  trial-mission,  in  the  brief  duration 
 to  which  it  had  to  be  limited;  apart  from  the  fact  that  the 
 Apostles  did  not  stand  in  the  same  relation  to  the  Samaritans 
 as  to  the  Galilean  Jews.  They  were  not  prepared  to  adapt 
 themselves  to  the  feelings  of  the  Samaritans,  nor  to  meet  the 
 controversies  into  which  they  must  inevitably  be  led  among 
 them;  the  way  in  which  the  two  sons  of  Zebedee  treated  that 
 people  at  a  later  period  is  proof  of  this.  There  was  no  danger, 
 however,  that  the  disciples  would  so  misunderstand  Christ  as 
 to  infer  that  the  Samaritans  were  to  be  excluded  from  the 
 kingdom  of  God  ;  what  they  had  seen  of  liis  personal  inter- 
 course with  that  people,  and  of  the  love  wliich  he  cherished  for 
 them,  sixfficiently  guarded  against  that. 
 
 And  so,  too,  they  could  not  but  infer  that  the  exclusion  of 
 the  heathen  must  not  be  extended  too  fai\  Besides,  the  Jews 
 themselves^  admitted  that  the  heathen  were  to  obtain  a  certain 
 share  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  on  condition  of  obser\'ing  the 
 Jewish  law ;  and  the  disciples  could  hardly  think  less  would  be 
 granted  by  tlieir  Master,  whose  words  and  actions  breathed  so 
 very  different  a  spirit. 
 
 (3.)  The  Instructions  continued  ;  the  Apostles  enjoined  to  rely  on 
 Providence. 
 
 Christ  sought  to  train  his  ministers  to  perform  the  duties  of 
 their  calling  without  anxious  care  for  the  future.  He  bade 
 them  make  no  provision  for  their  journey,*  but  to  trast  in 
 GrOD,  who  wovdd  not  see  them  want  while  faithfully  doing  their 
 duty ;  to  be  content  with  what  was  offered  them ;  to  abide  in 
 the  first  house  that  was  hospitably  opened  to  them ;  and  thus, 
 having  made  one  family  their  home,  to  extend  their  labours 
 around  it  as  a  centre.  The  issue  satisfied  them  that  their 
 Master  had  predicted  rightly ;  they  found,  as  he  had  promised, 
 all  then-  wants  supplied.?     At  that  time  the  fame  of  Christ's 
 
 '*  John  X.  16.  '  Cf.  pp.  90.  01. 
 
 *  This  is  the  essential  part  of  the  instruction  ;  differences  of  detail  are  of 
 no  moment.  e  Luke  xxii.  35. 
 
284  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 miracles  had  rendered  the  dispositions  of  the  Galileans  favour- 
 able ;  they  Jiad  to  iight  no  battles  with  fanatical  enemies. 
 Moreover,  the  substance  of  their  teaching  was  not  as  yet  so 
 inconsistent  with  the  i)revailing  modes  of  thought  as  to  excite 
 hatred  and  opposition. 
 
 §  175. —  VarioiDi  Opinions  entertained  of  Jisus.     (Luke  ix.  7-9.) 
 
 In  the  meantime  Christ's  fame  was  spreading  through  all 
 the  land,  and  various  ojjinions  existed  in  regard  to  the  charac- 
 ter of  the  powers  which  could  not  be  denied.  A  veiy  small 
 minority  of  the  people  recognised  him  a.s  the  Messiah  ;  but  the 
 greater  number  exjiected  that  when  IMessiah  should  come,  he 
 would  prove  himself  such  by  founding  an  earthly  kingdon\  in 
 visible  glory ;  and  that  his  power  would  be  displayed,  not  in  a 
 corner  of  Galilee,  Init  in  the  Theocratic  metropolis.  But  those 
 who  had  been  impressed  by  the  labours  of  John  the  Baptist 
 could  hardly  realize  his  total  disappearance;  and  such,  seemg 
 gi-eater  works  done  so  soon  after  his  death,  explained  them 
 thus :  "7/c  is  risen  from  tlie  dead,  and  tlierefore  might  >/  works  do 
 shov)  forth  tliemsches  in  him'''  (Matt.  xiv.  2).  Otliers  said  that 
 Elias,  or  one  of  the  ancient  prophets,  had  re-appeared,  to  pre- 
 l^are  the  way  for  Messiah's  kingdom. 
 
 It  is  obvious  that  the  impression  produced  by  Christ's  works 
 caused  him  to  be  generally  regarded  a.s  higher  than  John — as 
 the  highest,  indeed,  next  to  Messiah;  but  not  a«  Messiah  liim- 
 self  on  account  of  the  false  expectation  above  mentioned.  It 
 is  no  matter  of  surprise  that  there  shoidd  have  been  incon- 
 sistent and  contradictory  opinions  at  a  time  so  disturbed  and 
 uneasy. 
 
 §  176. — Return  of  the  Apostles. — Miraculovs  Feeding  of  the  Fire  T/iovsand. 
 (Matt.  xiv.  ;  Mark  vi.  ;  Lukeix.) — Oliject  and  Significance  of  the  Miroxle. 
 — Its  Effect  -upon  the  Multitude. 
 
 Christ  had  now  spent  a  whole  year  in  Galilee.  The  time  of 
 the  Passover  approached,  and  the  Apostles  returned  from  tlieir 
 missionary  journey.  Multitudes  still  thronged  aljout  him. 
 seeking  aid  for  soul  and  body ;  the  caravan.s,  gathering  to  the 
 I*a.s,sover,  increased  the  i)ress.  Tlie  Saviour  did  not  wi.sli  at. 
 once  to  expose  liimself  to  tlie  dangei-s  that  threatenetl  him  at 
 Jenisalem;  moreover,  he  desired,  for  a  time,  to  jirolong  Ijotli 
 his  ministry  in  Galilee,  and  his  intercourse  with  the  Apostles, 
 whose  training  for  the  work  was  now  his  fii-st  object.  H< 
 sought  a  .season  of  undisturbed  society  with  them;  to  receiM- 
 the  report  of  their  fii-xt  iiidej)endent  lalxau-s,  and  to  give  theiu 
 ad\-ice  and  instruction  for  the  fiitui-e  (Mark  vi.  30,  31).     For 
 
FEEDING  OP  THE  FIVE  THOUSAJvD.  28.5 
 
 ^his  purpose,  he  departed,  with  the  tliscii)les,  from  the  neigh- 
 houi'hood  of  Caperuauni,  on  the  western  shore  of  Genesareth, 
 to  a  inoimtam  on  the  eastern  sliore,  at  the  liead  of  tlie  lake, 
 near  BetliMiicla  Julias}^  But  the  multitude  took  care  to  see 
 whither  he  accompanied  his  disciples,  and  immediately  hastened 
 after  him.' 
 
 And  here  followed  i\\e  feeding  of  the  fice  thousand.  This 
 miracle  formed  the  very  acme  of  Christ's  miraculous  power  ;J 
 in  it  creative  agency  was  most  strikingly  prominent,  although 
 it  was  not  purely  creation  out  of  notliing,  but  a  multiplication 
 of  an  existing  substance,  or  a  strengthening  of  its  properties. 
 For  this  very  rea.son,  there  is  more  excuse  in  regard  to  this 
 than  some  other  of  the  miracles  for  inquiring  whether  the  sub- 
 jective element  of  the  account  can  be  so  separated  from  the 
 objective  as  to  offer  a  different  view  of  the  natiu'e  of  the  act. 
 
 A  theory  has  accordingly  been  coustnicted  to  do  away  with 
 the  mii^aculous  character  of  the  act,  and  explain  it  as  a  resiilt 
 of  Christ's  spuitual  agency,  brought  about  in  a  natui'al  way. 
 It  amounts  to  this :  the  feeding  of  the  vast  multitude  with  five 
 loaves  and  two  fishes  was  accomplished  by  the  example  and 
 moral  influence  of  Christ,  which  induced  the  better-pro\'ided 
 to  share  their  food  ^vith  the  rest,  Christ's  spiiit  of  love  bring- 
 ing rich  and  poor  to  an  equality,  as  it  has  often  done  in  later 
 Christian  times.  So,  then,  the  result  was  rightly  judged  to 
 have  been  brought  about  by  the  Spiiit  of  Christ ;  but  the  spi- 
 litual  influence  was  translated  into  a  material  one;  Christ's 
 power  over  men's  hearts  into  a  power  exerted  by  liim  over 
 nature ;  and  the  intermediate  link  in  the  chain  was  thus 
 omitted. 
 
 Kow,  although  it  is  possible  that  an  account  of  the  mii-acle 
 might  have  originated  in  some  such  way  as  this — examples  of 
 
 •>  Lukeix.  10.  Thetetrarch  Philip,  wlio  raised  the  village  of  Bethsaida 
 (on  the  east  side)  to  the  dicrnity  of  a  city,  distinguished  it  from  the  village 
 of  the  same  name  on  the  west  side,  by  adding  the  name  Julias,  from  the 
 emperor's  daughter  (Joseph.  Archaeol.  xviii.  2,  §  1).  It  is  not  strange  that 
 the  name  rTTL"n'3  (meaning  a /j/ow  offish,  afinhinfj-toivn),  slioidd  l>e  applied 
 to  two  places  on  different  sides  of  a  lake  abounding  in  fi.-.h. — Robinnon's 
 Palestine,  vol.  iii.  p.  566. 
 
 '  It  appears  possible,  from  John  vi.  '>,  that  Christ  only  withdrew  to  the 
 east  shore  after  spending  a  great  part  of  the  day  with  the  multitude  on 
 the  west  side.  In  this  case  it  would  be  natural  for  Christ  to  express,  first, 
 •T.  care  for  their  corporeal  wants,  when  he  saw  them,  after  spending  nearly 
 the  whole  day  without  food,  follow  him  at  a  late  hour.  "NVliat  was  done 
 upon  the  two  shores,  therefore,  may  perhaps  have  been  blended  together  in 
 the  synoptical  accounts.  J  Cf.  p.  162. 
 
286  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 the  like  are  not  wanting  in  tlie  Middle  Ages — the  details  of 
 the  narrative,  in  all  the  different  versions  of  it,  are  ii-reconcile- 
 able  with  the  hypothesis.  Had  part  of  the  people  been  sup- 
 ])lied  mth  proAasions,  the  disciples  must  have  known  it;  on 
 the  contraiy,  according  to  the  narrative,  they  had  no  such 
 thought ;  nothing  remained  for  them  but  to  "  send  the  multitude 
 away  into  the  villages  to  buy  victuals."  Had  they  supposed  that 
 the  caravans  were  partly  supplied  with  food  for  theii*  journey  to 
 Jerusalem,  it  would  have  been  most  natural  for  them  to  say 
 to  Christ,  "Thou  who  canst  so  control  the  heax-ts  of  men, 
 speak  the  word,  that  they  may  shai-e  with  the  needy."  But 
 there  is  no  plausibility  in  the  hypothesis  that  thei'e  were  pro- 
 visions on  the  ground;  the  multitudes  had  not  come  from  a 
 great  distance;  and  there  were  villages  at  hand  where  food 
 could  be  bought ;  so  that  there  was  no  inducement  to  carry  it 
 with  them.  MoreoA^er,  had  Christ  seen  such  a  misunderstand- 
 ing of  his  act  arise,  he  would,  instead  of  turning  the  self-decep- 
 tion of  the  people  to  his  own  advantage,  have  taken  occasion, 
 by  setting  the  case  truly  before  them,  to  illustrate,  by  so 
 striking  an  illustration,  what  the  spirit  of  love  could  do. 
 Finally,  the  uaiTative,  as  given  by  John  (xi.  15),  puts  this 
 theoiy  wholly  out  of  the  question.  So  powerfully  were  the 
 multitude  impressed  by  what  Chidst  had  done,  that  they  wished 
 to  take  Jesus  as  Messiah,  and  make  him  king.  Tlie  act  must 
 have  been  extraordinary  indeed  that  coidd  produce  such  an 
 effect  as  this  upon  a  people  under  the  dominion  of  the  senses, 
 and  not  at  all  susceptible  of  any  immediately  spiritval  agency 
 which  Christ  might  have  employed. 
 
 The  miracle  was  not  wrought  "without  reason;  the  circum- 
 stances which  demanded  it  may  be  thus  stated :  A  multitude 
 of  persons,  travelling  to  Jerusalem  for  the  Passover,  followed 
 Christ  from  the  western  to  the  eastern  shore ;  he  had  spoken 
 the  words  of  life  to  them,  and  healed  the  sick.  They  were 
 chained  the  whole  day  to  his  presence,  and  evening  came  upon 
 them.  The  sick  who  had  just  been  healed  were  without  food ; 
 they  could  not  go,  fiiating,  to  the  Aallages  to  obtain  it.''     Here, 
 
 ■^  John's  Gospel,  however,  diflfers  from  others  in  this  point  (vi.  5),  in 
 stating  that  Christ  liiraself  asked  the  question,  "  Wheiux  shall  we  but/ 
 bread  f"  &c.  before  anything  else  was  done.  We  find,  therefore,  by  com- 
 parison with  the  other  Gospels,  tluit  John  has  omitted  part  of  the  details. 
 Christ  would  not  make  this  the  first  question,  when  a  multitude  stood 
 before  him  in  want  of  spiritual  as  well  as  bodily  relief ;  nor  is  it  likely  that 
 he  meant  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  miracle  from  the  beginning.  From 
 John  vi.  17,  also,  we  gather  that  the  event  took  place  towards  evenin-.' 
 
FEEDING  OF  TUE  FIVE  THOUSAND.  287 
 
 then,  was  a  call  for  liis  assisting  love ;  and,  natural  sustenance 
 failing,  his  miracle-working  power  must  s\ipply  the  lack. 
 
 The  effect  of  the  miracle  illustrates  for  us  the  mode  of 
 Christ's  working  in  all  ages;  both  in  temporal  and  spiritual 
 things,  the  spirit  that  proceeds  from  laim  makes  the  greatest 
 results  possible  to  the  smallest  means;  that  which  appears,  as 
 to  quantity,  most  trilling,  multiplies  itself,  by  his  Di^dne  power, 
 so  as  to  supply  the  wants  of  thousands.  The  physical  miracle 
 is  for  us  a  tjqje  of  the  spiritual  one  which  the  power  of  liis 
 words  works  in  the  life  of  mankind  in  all  time.^ 
 
 leaving  room  for  the  inference  [apart  from  the  accounts  in  the  other 
 Gospels]  that  the  multitude  had  been  about  Christ  some  time.  In  this 
 statement,  then,  John  plunges  at  once  into  the  midst  of  the  account, 
 without  the  vividness  of  detail  which  usually  marks  his  Gospel.  On  the 
 other  hand  (of  Matt.  xv.  32),  it  is  not  likely  that  Christ  waited  for  an 
 intimation  from  the  disciples  before  manifesting  his  ever-watchful  love  and 
 compassion ;  nor  was  it  his  custom  to  work  a  miracle  suddenly,  but  in  a 
 naturally-suggested  and  prepared  way.  All  difficulties  thsappear  if  we 
 adopt  the  view  of  note  ',  p.  285. 
 
 '  The  question  arises,  whether  the  miracle  recorded  in  Matt.  xv.  32, 
 seq.  and  Mai-k  viii.  1-8,  is  different  from  the  one  of  which  we  have  just 
 treated,  or  whether  it  is  the  same,  differently  stated.  The  fact  that  the 
 narratives  are  suhstantiallij  alike,  and  differ  in  matters  comparatively  unim- 
 portant, may  be  urged  in  favour  of  the  latter  '.aew  ;  but  the  relative  differ- 
 ences of  measure  (4.000  instead  of  5,000,  with  seven  loaves  instead  of  Jive, 
 and  the  multitude  spending  three  days  with  Christ)  favour  the  former.  The 
 resemblances  may  be  ascribed  to  the  one  account's  having  been  modelled 
 after  the  other.  Matt.  xvi.  9,  10,  would  not  prove  them  different  ;  that 
 passage  may  have  been  modified  at  a  later  period,  when  the  facts  were 
 pre-supposed  to  be  different,  without  afiecting  its  veracity.  The  localities 
 might  help  to  decide  the  question.  The  first  miracle  took  place,  as  we 
 have  said,  on  the  easteiii  side  of  Genesareth,  near  a  mountain.  The  locality 
 which  we  assign  to  the  second  will  depend  upon  our  answer  to  a  question 
 still  debated,  viz.  where  Magdala,  to  which  Christ  passed  over  (Matt.  xvi. 
 39),  was  situated.  According  to  the  Talmudical  accounts  {Lightfoot, 
 Chorograph.  c.  76  ;  Wctstein,  in  loc),  it  was  near  Gadara,  consequently, 
 on  the  eastern  side  of  the  sea.  If  this  be  so,  the  second  miracle  must  have 
 been  wrought  upon  a  mountain  on  the  western  shore  ;  thus  assigning  a 
 locality  to  it  different  from  that  of  the  first.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
 there  is  sho\vn  to  this  day,  south  of  Capemaimi,  on  the  road  to  Tiberias,  a 
 village  called  el-Mejdcl  (Robinson),  a  name  corresponding  to  the  ancient 
 Magdala  (Burckkardt,  Germ,  trans,  ii.  559.;  cf  jRosenmiiller,  Handbuch 
 der  Biblischen  Alterthumskunde,  ii.  73).  This  agrees  with  the  Tahnudic 
 accounts  that  place  the  site  near  Tiberias  ;  but  not  so  well  with  the  one- 
 quoted  above,  namely,  that  it  was  near  Gadara;  but  cannot  the  MigdaJ 
 Gadar,  therein  mentioned,  be  otherwise  exphained  1  Cf.  Gescniiis's  remark 
 on  the  passage  cited  ;  Burclkardt  ii.  1056;  Itobinson  iii.  529  ;  Matt.  xvi.  i. 
 (Pharisees  meeting  Christ),  agrees  better  with  the  supposition  of  the  western 
 shore.  If,  then,  Magdala  was  on  the  western  shore,  the  second  miracle, 
 like  the  first,  must  have  occurred  on  the  eastern ;  the  direction  of  their 
 
288  SECOND  GEXtTl.A.L  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Up  to  this  time  Christ  had  only  impressed  the  multitude 
 Avith  the  belief  that  he  was  a  mighty  Prophet,  whose  appeai'- 
 ■ance  was  preparatory  to  the  jVIessiaiiic  era.  But  this  climax  of 
 his  miracle-working  power  produced  one,  also,  in  then-  opinions. 
 "  He  that  can  do  such  a  miracle  can  be  no  other  than  Messiah ; 
 we  mu.st  do  liomage  to  him  as  Theoci'atic  king,  and  urge  hiin 
 to  establish  his  kingdom  among  us."  Plans  of  this  sort  Chnst 
 had  to  evade;  and  he  returned  alone  to  the  moimtain. 
 
 §  177. — Christ  walks  npon  the  Watirs.     (John  vi.  16  ;  Matt.  xiv.  22  ; 
 Mark  vi.  45.) 
 
 Dismissing  the  ilisciples  at  evening,  he  commanded  them  to 
 sail  across  to  the  western  shore,  in  the  direction  of  Bethsaida 
 and  Capernaum.  They  departed,  but  sailed  for  a  while  slowly 
 along  the  shore,  expecting  Christ  to  c<jme  to  them  after  he  had 
 dismissed  the  multitiide  ;  l)nt  they  waited  in  vain.  It  was  now 
 dark;  they  became  aware  that  their  expectations  would  not 
 be  fulfilled,  and  took  their  way  for  the  other  .shore.  But  the 
 wind  was  against  them ;  they  had  to  contend  %vith  stoi'm  and 
 waves.  After  struggling  -w-ith  the  elements  in  gi-eat  anxiety 
 for  more  than  an  hour  and  a  half  in  the  open  sea,  they  strove 
 again  to  reach  the  shore  which  they  liad  left.  A\niile  they 
 were  toiling  to  accomplish  this,  suddenly,  between  three  and 
 six  in  the  morning,  Christ  appeared  to  them  walking  on  the 
 •watei's,  and  approaching  the  vessel."'     Bewildered  with  feai", 
 
 subsequent  passage  across  the  lake  wonUl  agree  pretty  well.  Tlien  the 
 general  geographical  course  (indicated  in  Matt.  xvi.  1.3)  would  accord  very 
 well  with  Matt.  xv.  21  ;  and  all  this  favours  the  opinion  that  we  have  two 
 reports  of  one  and  the  same  miracle.  Tliere  is  an  important  diflFerence 
 between  Matt.  xv.  39,  and  xiv.  22  ;  the  Latter  stating  that  Christ  sent  his 
 <lisciples  away  first  by  ship  ;  the  firmer,  that  he  went  innnediately  him- 
 self; but  this  might  have  arisen  from  an  omission  in  the  fonner  pas.sage  ; 
 just  as  we  find  Luke,  also,  saying  nothing  of  it.  The  probability  of  the 
 miracle  having  been  wrought  twice  is  lessened  by  the  view  tliat  we  have 
 taken  of  it  as  constituting  the  climax  of  his  miraculous  works.  We  recog- 
 nise in  Matt.  xv.  29  ;  xvi.  12,  a  break  in  the  historical  .and  local  connexion  ; 
 and,  in  fact,  we  frequently  find  in  this  document,  although  an  original  and 
 evangelical  one,  the  same  expressions  and  events  narrated  more  than  once  ; 
 sonwtimes  in  longer,  sometimes  in  shorter  forms. 
 
 ™  If  it  were  even  f/rammaticuUi/  possible  to  tra!i>ilate  t-rri  ri/f  ^aXdfffrrjg 
 "  (dowj  the  sea,"  and  tTri  ri'iv  ^aXaaaav  •' ?6ky(«/.'J  Mc  jtc«,"  although  the 
 coimexion  be  unnatural  (thus  supposing  that  Christ  had  (jone.  in  a  half 
 '-•ircle  to  tlie  other  side  of  the  shore,  and  so  reached  the  disciples,  who  had 
 slowly  toiled  ulon;/  the  shore)  ;  if  this,  I  say,  were  grammatically  possible, 
 huch  a  construction  is  directly  opposed  to  the  tenor  and  intention  of  the 
 narrative.  This  is  most  obvious  in  JoJui's  account,  which  is  the  most  direct 
 and  simple,  and  has  lea.-t  of  the  miraculous  about  it.  Suppose  the  disciples 
 to  have  sjiiled  25  or  30  furlongs,  uot  across,  but  aloitg  the  sua,  and  then, 
 
THE  SYNAGOGUE  AT  CAPERNAUM.  289 
 
 they  did  not  recognise  the  Saviour  amid  the  storm  and  dark- 
 ness, bnt  thought  they  saw  "  a  sjnrlt." "  But  Christ  called  to 
 them,  "  It  is  I;  be  not  afraid."  The  well-known  voice  turned 
 their  fear  into  joy.  They  sought,  longingly,  to  take  liim  into 
 the  vessel ;  but,  before  they  could  succeed  in  it,  they  were 
 wafted  to  the  shore  by  a  favoiuuble  wdnd.  This,  too,  visas  full 
 of  impoit  to  them ;  as  soon  as  Christ  made  liimself  known, 
 everything  took  a  joylid  tuni.° 
 
 §  178. — Christ  in  the  Synagogue  at  Capernaum.     (John  vl.) 
 (1.)  Tlie  Carnal  Mind  of  the  Multitude  rebuked. 
 
 Christ  met  certain  of  the  eye-witnesses  of  the  miraculous 
 feeding  of  the  five  thousand  in  the  synagogue  at  Capernaimi, 
 either  on  the  Sabbath,  or  on  some  other  day.!'  They  were 
 surprised,  and,  therefore,  the  more  gratified,  at  his  sudden 
 appearance,  .since  they  had  left  him  on  the  eastern  shore;  and 
 their  pleasxire  was  shared  ]>y  others  whom  they  had  told  of  the 
 mii-acle.  Doubtless  they  were  full  of  expectation  that  he 
 would  work  new  wonders  to  confirm  his  Messiahship,  and 
 gi-atify  tlieir  carnal  longings.  But  the  higher  theii-  hopes  of 
 this  kind  were,  the  deeper  was  their  disappointment,  and  the 
 gi'eater  their  rage,  when  he  offered  them  something  entii-ely 
 different  from  what  they  sought.  The  miracle  could  produce 
 no  faith  in  those  who  were  destitute  of  a  spiritual  mind ;  their 
 enthusiasm,  carnally  excited,  was  soon  to  pass  over  into  oppo- 
 sition. A  process  of  sifting  was  to  take  place,  and  the  discoiu'se 
 wliich  Christ  uttered  was  intended  to  bring  it  on. 
 
 They  questioned  him ;  but,  instead  of  leplying.  he  entered 
 at  once  upon  a  rebuke  of  their  carnal  temper :  "  Ye  seek  me, 
 not  becaiise  ye  saw  tJie  miracles,  hut  because  ye  did  eat  of  tlie 
 loaves,  and  xoere  filUd.  Laborer  not  for  tJte  meat  which  perislietk, 
 hut  for  tluxt  meat  which  eadureth  unto  everUtsthig  life,  ichich  the 
 
 seeing  Jesus  on  the  shore,  to  have  taken  him  in  ;  how  will  this  agree  witli 
 John's  statement  (vi.  21),  "  immediatcl;/  the  ship  was  at  the  land,  ichithe)' 
 thcij  went?"  If  they  saw  Jesus,  then,  on  the  shore,  it  must  h.-vve  been  the 
 ur^tcrn  shore  ;  and  what  meaning  could  there  be,  in  that  case,  in  thc-ir 
 taking  him  into  the  vessel  .'     Cf.  Liukc's  excellent  remark.'s,  in  loc. 
 
 "  Not  a  likely  thouglit,  if  Jesus  was  walking  on  the  nhwc  ;  it  could  have 
 been  nothing  strange,  especially  towards  Easter,  when  so  many  were  tra- 
 velling towards  Jerusalem,  to  see  a  man  walking  on  the  lake-side  towards 
 morning. 
 
 "  I  follow  John's  account,  as  most  naturally  explaining  itself. 
 
 ■"  Part  of  what  occurred  would  have  been  a  violation  of  the  Sal>bath  ;  in 
 later  times  there  were  assemblies  in  the  synagogue  on  the  second  and  fifth 
 days  of  the  week  {Winer,  Reahvorterbuch,  2nd  ed.  vol.  ii.  p.  G37). 
 
 U 
 
290  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTEY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 Son  of  Man  sludl  give  unto  you;  for  him  hath  God  the  Father 
 sealed.'^  "Ye  seek  me,  not  because  the  sign  of  my  Divine 
 working,  -svliich  ye  saw,  has  led  you  to  me  as  the  Son  of  God, 
 who  alone  can  supply  your  spiritual  wants;  but  only  because 
 I  have  appeased  your  bodily  appetite;  and  so  you  look  to  me 
 only  for  sensible  gifts,  Avhich  I  come  not  to  bestow  {i.  e.  such 
 was  the  carnal  hue  of  their  expectations  of  Messiah).  Strive 
 not  for  pei'ishable,  but  eternal  food,  imparting  eternal  life, 
 which  the  Son  of  Man  will  bestow ;  God  has  sealed  him  to 
 this  by  miracles  wrought  before  your  eyes,  ia  attestation  of  his 
 Divine  calling." 
 
 Upon  this,  the  purer-minded  among  them  asked  him,  "What 
 must  we  do,  then,  to  become  Avorthy  of  the  Divine  favour  1 " 
 They  expected  him  to  prescribe  new  rehgious  duties;  but, 
 instead  of  this,  he  led  them  back  to  the  one  work :  "  Believe  on 
 him  whom  God  hath  sent."  With  this  faith  everything  is 
 given. 
 
 (2.)  A  greater  Sign  demanded. — ^The  Answer  :  "  Christ  the  Bread  of  Life. " 
 Then  others'!  came  out;  either  eye-witnesses  of  the  miracle, 
 who  (according  to  the  nature  of  the  im^spiritual  mind),  still 
 unsatisfied,  and  seeking  greater  signs,  were  liable,  from  their 
 want  of  faith,  to  be  soon  pex'plexed  even  in  regai'd  to  what 
 they  had  akeady  experienced;'^  or  persons  who  had  only  heard 
 of  the  miracle  from  others,  and  who  had  decided  from  the  fii'st 
 to  see  for  themselves  before  they  would  believe.  These  de- 
 manded of  Christ  (v.  30)  anew  miraculous  attestation;^  and, 
 as  the  Messiah  was  to  be  a  Moses  with  new  powers,  they  asked 
 that  he  should  gi^^e  them  bread  from  heaven — celestial  manna 
 — angels'  food,  according  to  theii*  fancies  of  the  millennial  bHss. 
 Christ  took  the  opportunity  (v.  32-42)  thus  natm-ally  offered 
 to  lead  them  from  the  material  to  the  spiritual  and  Divine, 
 and  declared  himself  to  be  the  true  bread  from  heaven,  at  the 
 same  time  seeking  to  awaken  in  them  a  desire  for  it.  But 
 their  carnal  feelings  were  susceptible  of  no  such  desire;  and, 
 
 ■i  It  is  part  of  John's  manner  not  to  distinguish  individuals  or  classes 
 closely  in  his  narrations. 
 
 '  For  the  mii-acle  in  the  miracle,  the  Supernatural,  as  such,  can  only  bo 
 apprehended  by  the  Sense  for  the  Supernatural.  The  reaction  of  the  senses 
 on  the  critical  understanding  can  soon  uproot  a  conviction  growing  only  in 
 the  soil  of  the  senses.  One  reasons  away  what  he  thinks  he  has  seen  ;  "  it 
 could  not  have  happened  so." 
 
 ■  It  is  to  be  noted,  in  comparing  the  .-vccounts  of  the  two  instances  in 
 which  the  multitude  were  miraculously  fed,  that  the  second  is  followed 
 (Matt.  xvi.  1)  by  a  demand  made  upon  Christ  for  a  sign  from  /leaven. 
 
THE  SYNAGOGUE  AT  CAPERNAUM.  291 
 
 still  regarding  only  the  earthly  appearance,  they  took  offence 
 that  the  carpenters  son  sliould  say,  ^- 1  came  down  from  liewven" 
 He  did  not  attempt  to  I'eason  them  out  of  their  scruples,  but 
 laid  bare  the  source  of  them,  i.  e.  their  dispositions  of  heaii; 
 and  mind;  of  these  they  liad  fii-st  to  be  rid,  before  they  could 
 recognise  the  Di\inity  in  his  human  manifestation  (v.  43-47). 
 "Murmur  not  among  yourselves;  no  man  can  come  unto  me, 
 accept  the  Fatlier,  which  Jutth  sent  me,  draw  him.''  Seek  untfmt, 
 you,  not  without  you,  for  the  cause  of  your  surprise ;  it  lies  in 
 this :  you  came  to  me  carnally,  with  no  sense  of  spiritual  need ; 
 and,  therefore,  have  not  the  dratoing  of  the  Father,  which  all 
 must  follow  who  woidd  come  unto  me  aright.  It  is  among  the 
 prophecies  that  are  to  be  fiilfilled  in  the  Messianic  age  that 
 "they  shall  all  be  taught  of  God;'' ^  and  so,  every  one  that  fol- 
 lows the  Fathei-'s  call,  comes  to  me.  (The  voice  of  God,  which 
 testifies  of  the  Redeemer  in  aU  needy  souls  and  calls  them,  will 
 be  heard  everywhere.)  But  this  must  not  be  understood  as  if 
 any  one  could  know  the  Father,  or  be  united  with  him,  except 
 thi'ough  the  Sou;  the  Son  alone,  derived  from  the  Father, 
 knows  him  perfectly,  and  can  impart  this  knowledge  to  others 
 \^^Not  tJuit  any  man  hath  seen  tlie  Father,  sa/ve  lie  which  is  of 
 God;  he  hath  seen  the  Father"'\.  This  preventing  operation  of 
 the  Holy  Spuit  was  only  intended  to  lead  them  to  the  Son,  as 
 their  Redeemer:  "ffe  that  believeth  on  me  hath  everlasting  life!' 
 Again  (v.  48-51)  he  repeats  the  assertion,  "I  am  that  bread  of 
 life  from  heaven"  confirmed  by  the  proof  that  none  could  at- 
 tain a  shai-e  in  the  Divine  Hfe,  or  communion  with  the  Father, 
 except  through  him;  and  describes  himself  as  the  true  ma/tina 
 from  heaven. 
 
 He  then  proceeds  to  tell  them  (v.  51)  that  he  would  give 
 them  a  bread  which  was  to  impart  life  to  the  world;  hence, 
 that  the  bread  which  he  was  abotit  to  give  was,  in  a  certain 
 sense,  different  from  the  bread  which  he  wa^;  different,  that 
 is,  from  liis  whole  self-commimication.  "And  tlie  bread  which 
 I  wUl  give  is  myfesh.''  This  bread  was  to  be  the  self-sacrifice 
 of  his  laodily  life  for  the  salvation  of  mankind."  The  life-giving 
 
 '  John  vi.  45.  This  cannot  be  understood  of  the  s^ihsequent  teaching  of 
 all  by  the  bestowing  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  or  of  the  general  teaching  of 
 Christianity  ;  the  thing  in  view  in  the  pas.sage  was,  the  Divine  voice  in 
 men,  preceding  faith,  to  lead  them  to  Christ  as  Saviom",  which  was  not  to 
 be  restrained  by  any  human  statutes. 
 
 "  Lachniann's  text  omits  the  words  i)v  iyiL  Surrio  in  v,  51,  a  reading 
 ■which  is  supported  by  considerable  authority.  Omitting  these  words,  only 
 the  general  idea  (the  adp^  to  be  devoted  for  the  salvation  of  men)  would 
 
292  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTRY  IN  GALILEE. 
 
 power,  as  such,  was  his  Divine-human  existence ;  the  life-giving 
 power,  in  its  sj)ecial  a<:t,  was  his  self-sacriiice.  The  two  are  in- 
 separable ;  the  latter  being  the  essential  means  of  realizing  the 
 former;  only  by  his  self-sacrifice  could  his  Divine-human  life 
 become  the  bread  of  life  for  menJ 
 
 (3.)  Eating  Christ's  Flesh  and  Drinking  his  Blood. — His  own  Explanation 
 of  this.     (John  vi.  53,  saq.) 
 
 The  Jews  wilfully  peiwerted  these  words  of  Christ  (v.  52) 
 into  a  cai'nal  meaning ;  and  therefore  he  repeated  and  strength- 
 ened them.  "Except  ye  eat  the  Jiesh  of  tlic  Son  of  Man^'  kc. 
 (v.  53-58).  "Except  ye  receive  my  Di vine-human  life  within 
 you,  make  it  as  your  own  flesh  and  blood,  and  become  tho- 
 roughly penetrated  by  the  Di^•ille  principle  of  Kfe,  wliich 
 Christ  has  imparted  to  human  nature  and  himself  realized  in 
 it,  ye  cannot  partake  of  eternal  life." 
 
 To  make  the  sense  of  his  figurative  expressions  perfectly 
 clear,  he  changed  the  figure  again  to  the  "  bread  from  heaven ;" 
 (IS  the  living  Father  luith  sent  «i€,  and  I  live  hy  the  Fatlier ;  so 
 he  that  cateth  mey'  even  he  shall  live  by  me.^  This  is  the  bread 
 that  came  down  from  heaven.  But  most  of  his  disciples  still 
 lacked  the  capacity  to  imderstand  how  his  words  mutually 
 explained  each  other.  Adhering  to  the  outward  and  material 
 sense,  they  seized  upon  those  expressions  which  were  most 
 striking,  without  catching  their  connexion,  or  taking  the 
 trouble  to  understand  his  figures  by  comparing  them  with  each 
 other  and  with  the  unfigin-ative  ex])ressions;  a  process  wliich 
 could  not  have  been  difiicult  even  to  those  among  them  who 
 were  incapable  of  profound  thought,  accustomed  as  they  were 
 to  the  figurative  style  of  Oriental  language,  and  to  Christ's 
 peculiar  manner  of  speaking.  Fastening  only  upon  the  ex- 
 pression, "  eating  his  flesh  and  drinking  his  blood,"  in  this 
 
 he  made  prominent  in  the  passage  ;  not,  however,  to  the  exclusion  of  his 
 self-sacrifice  as  the  culminating  {Kiint  of  his  life  devoted  to  God  and  to  man's 
 saJvation.  But  the  omission  would  make  the  passage  harsh,  and  unlike 
 John's  style  :  the  words  may  have  slipped  out  of  some  of  the  MSS.  from 
 their  simUarity  to  the  prece<ling  oj'  tya»  cwgiv. 
 
 *  I  am  well  aware  of  wliat  Klin;/  says  against  ZiiHr  (Stud.  n.  Krit. 
 1836,  1)  in  regard  to  this  divisi(m  of  the  discourse,  but  my  views  remain 
 unaffected.  I  cannot  find  in  the  words  of  Christ  the  Lutheran  Realism,  so 
 called. 
 
 "To  "eat  him"  and  "to  eat  his  flesh  and  blood"  have  the  same 
 meaning. 
 
 '  Tlie  way  in  which  Christ  himself  explains  his  meaning  by  changing 
 his  words  is  enough  to  show  how  far  removed  these  words  are  from  any 
 reference  to  a  communication  of  the  body  of  Christ  in  the  Lord's  Supper. 
 
THE  SYNAGOGUE  AT  CAPERNAUM.  293 
 
 sense,  they  found  it  "  a  hard  saying,  which  they  could  not 
 bear"  (v.  60). 
 
 And  this  was  true  not  merely  of  the  mass  of  hearers  in  the 
 synagogue,  but  also  of  many  who  had  become  his  followers 
 during  his  protracted  labours  in  Gralilee,  without,  however,  in 
 heart  and  spirit,  really  belonging  to  the  circle  of  disci])les. 
 The  foreign  elements  had  to  be  separated  from  the  kindred 
 ones ;  and  the  very  same  impressions  which  served  to  attach 
 really  kindred  souls  moi'e  closely  to  the  person  of  Christ  were 
 now  to  drive  off  others,  who,  though  pre\'iously  attracted,  were 
 not  decided  within  themselves  as  to  their  relations  to  hin\ 
 (v.  61-66). 
 
 When  he  had  left  the  synagogue,  and  was  standing  among 
 persons  who,  up  to  that  time,  had  been  liis  constant  attend- 
 ants, he  said,  in  view  of  the  state  of  feeling  above  described, 
 "  I  have  spoken  to  you  of  eating  my  flesh ;  doth  this  offend 
 you  ?  What,  then,  will  you  say,  when  the  Son  of  Man  will 
 ascend  into  heaven  ?  You  will  t/ien  see  me  no  more  ^vith  your 
 bodily  eyesjy  but  yet  it  will  be  necessarj-  for  you  to  eat  my 
 flesh  and  diink  my  blood,  wliich  then,  in  a  carnal  sense,  will 
 be  plainly  impossible."  It  is  ob^Hous,  therefore,  that  Christ 
 meant  no  mateiial  participation  in  his  flesh  and  blood,  but 
 one  which  would  have  its  fullest  import  and  extent  at  the 
 time  specified. 
 
 He  then  naturally  passes  on  to  explain  the  spii'itual  import 
 of  his  life-streaming  words :  "It  is  t/ie  Spirit  that  quickeneth,  t/ie 
 Jlesh  projiteth  nothing;  the  vjords  that  I  speak  unto  ycm,  tliey  are 
 spirit  a^id  they  are  life.  It  is  the  Spirit  that  giveth  life ;  the 
 flesh  is  nothing ;  hence  I  coidd  not  have  meant  a  sensible  eat- 
 ing of  my  flesh  and  blood,  but  the  appropriation  of  my  Spirit, 
 as  the  life-giving  principle,  as  this  commimicates  itself  through 
 my  manifestation  in  flesh  and  blood.  As  my  words  are  only 
 the  medium  through  which  the  Spirit  of  life  that  gushes  forth 
 from  me  is  imparted,  they  can  be  rightly  understood  only  so 
 far  as  the  Spirit  is  perceived  in  them."  But  this  was  precisely 
 what  those  who  misimder-stood  liim  were  deficient  in;  and, 
 "tlierefore"  said  he,  "I  said  unto  you,  that  no  man  can  caim 
 unto  one,  except  it  were  given  unto  him  of  my  Fatlm:  Only  those 
 that  hear  His  call,  and  come  ^vith  a  susceptibility  for  Di\'ine 
 
 y  Tlio  removal  of  Christ's  bodily  presence  from  the  earth,  ami  his  exalta- 
 tion to  heaven,  are  united  together  by  him.  Unbelievers  see  only  the 
 negative  aide,  the  removal ;  the  eye  of  faith,  in  seeing  the  one,  sees  the 
 other. 
 
294  SECOND  GENERAL  MINISTBY  IN  GALILEE.. 
 
 things,  can  apprehend  my  words  and  obtain  faith  in  me.  As  I 
 said  imto  you,  yoiu'  carnal  sense  is  the  source  of  your  misun- 
 derstanding and  unbelief" 
 
 (4.)  Sifting  of  the  Disciples. — Peter's  Confession. 
 
 Then  followed  a  sifting  of  the  disciples.  [From  that  time 
 many  of  his  disciples  loent  hack,  and  walked  'no  more  with  him!] 
 As  this  was  the  natural  result  of  his  relations  to  them,  he 
 rather  furthered  than  checked  it;  it  was  time  that  the  crisis  that 
 had  been  prepaiing  in  their  hearts  should  manifest  itself  out- 
 wardly. And  the  departui-e  of  the  unworthy  was  to  test  the 
 genuine  disciples,  and  make  them  conscious  of  the  true  relation 
 in  wliich  they  stood  to  Clirist.  He  wished  them,  therefore,  in 
 that  critical  moment,  to  prove  their  own  selves ;  for  there  was 
 one  among  them  already  upon  the  point  of  turning  away,  who 
 might  yet,  by  heeding  Christ's  injunction,  have  saved  himself 
 from  the  destruction  that  awaited  him. 
 
 He  said  to  the  twelve,  '•'  Will  ye  also  go  aicay  ? "  Peter, 
 speaking,  as  usual,  for  the  rest,  bore  testimony  to  their  expe- 
 rience in  his  fellowship :  "Lord,  to  whom  can  loe  go  ?"  and  con- 
 firmed Christ's  words  by  his  owti  consciousness,  in  whose  depths 
 ^he  had  felt  the  flow  of  their  life-giving  fountain :  "  Thou  hast 
 the  words  of  eternal  life.''  And,  therefore,  he  was  able  to  con- 
 fess in  the  name  of  all  the  rest,  from  a  conviction  founded  in 
 personal  knowledge  and  experience,  that  Jesus  was  Messiah 
 (v.  69).  But  Christ  warned  them  that  there  was  one  among 
 them  who  did  not  share  this  conviction,  although  included  in 
 Peters  confession.  He  had  chosen  them — drawn  them  to 
 himself — he  said,  and  yet  one  of  them  had  the  heart  of  an 
 enemy.  These  words,  sho'sving  to  Judas  that  his  inmost 
 thoughts  lay  bare  before  Christ,  might,  had  he  been  at  all 
 open  to  impression,  have  brought  him  to  repent  and  open  his 
 heart  to  the  Saviour,  seeking  forgiveness.  Failing  this,  they 
 could  only  strengthen  his  enmity. 
 
 CHAPTER  X. 
 
 JESUS  IN  NORTH  GALILEE,  AND  ON  THE  WAY  TO  CESAREA  PHILIPPI. 
 
 §  179. — Reasons  for  the  Journey. 
 We  have  said  that  Christ  desired  to  obtain  an  opportimity 
 for  private  intercourse  with  the  disciples,  in  order  to  hear  the 
 report  of  their  mission  journey,  and  to  prepare  their  minds  for 
 the  stormy  times  that  were  approaching.  As  it  seemed  im- 
 possible to  secure  this  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Tiberias,  lie 
 
THE  KEYS.  295 
 
 determined  to  go  to  some  distance  from  that  region  of  country, 
 a  purpose  wMch  otlier  circiunstances  soon  hastened. 
 
 Herod  Antipas,  who  then  reigned  in  Galilee,  hearing  of  the 
 feme  of  Jesus,  became  personally  desirous  to  see  him.  This 
 ^\•ish  was  probably  dictated  by  mere  curiosity,  or  by  a  desire 
 to  test  Christ's  power  to  work  miracles ;«  certainly  it  arose 
 from  no  sense  of  spiritual  need.  As  such  a  meeting  coidd  lead 
 to  no  good  result,  Christ  muist  have  desired  to  avoid  it.  This 
 formed  an  additional  motive  for  withdrawing  himself  into 
 North  Galilee ;  and  perhaps  beyond,  into  Pamas,  or  Cesarea 
 Philippi,  the  domain  of  the  Tetrarch  Philip.^  The  first  stage 
 of  the  journey  took  him  to  Bethsaida  Julias,  on  the  west  side 
 of  the  Sea  of  Genesareth. 
 
 §  180.— (7-JM'e  of  the  Mind  Man  at  Bethsaida. — Peter's  Second  Confession. — 
 The  Power  of  the  Keys.     (Mark  viii. ;  Matt,  svi.) 
 
 At  Bethsaida  a  blind  man  was  brought  to  Christ,  who  took 
 him  out  of  the  town  to  avoid  public  notice ;  and  then  per- 
 formed on  him  the  cure  whose  successive  steps  are  so  graphi- 
 cally described  by  Mark.  He  then  forbade  him  for  the  time 
 being  to  tell  of  what  had  been  done,  as  notoriety  would  have 
 been  inconsistent  with  his  pm^pose  above  mentioned.^ 
 
 When  left  alone  with  the  disciples,  he  questioned  them 
 about  their  travels,  and  concerning  the  opinions  generally  pre- 
 valent in  regard  to  himself.  Peter  renewed,  in  a  different 
 form,  the  confession  wliich  he  had  before  made  on  a  similar 
 occasion.^  In  contrast  with  those  who  saw  in  Jesus  only  a 
 Prophet,  he  said,  "Thou  art  the  Messiah;"  certainly  implying 
 more  than  was  included  in  the  ordinary  Jewish  sense ;  although 
 he  must  have  felt  more  than  he  could  unfold  in  definite  thought 
 when  he  added,  "tJie  Son  of  the  living  GocV 
 
 Thus  had  Peter,  on  two  distinct  occasions,  given  utterance 
 to  the  same  confession,  drawn  from  the  depths  of  his  inward 
 
 ^  Cf.  Lxike  xxiii.  8.  In  view  of  the  character  of  Herod,  there  is  more 
 internal  probability  in  Luke  ix.  7,  than  Matt.  xiv.  1,  2. 
 
 ^  We  infer  the  direction  which  Christ  took  with  his  disciples  from  com- 
 paring Matt.  XV.  21  ;  xvi.  13  ;  Mark  vii.  24  ;  viii.  27 ;  Luke  ix.  10-18. 
 
 ^  "niis  suits  well  mth  the  point  of  time  here  assigned  to  it. 
 
 =  In  all  the  Gospels  this  event  is  closely  connected  with  the  miraculous 
 feeding,  which  confirms  our  view  of  the  historical  connexion  of  the  facts. 
 True,  it  is  possible  that  Peter's  confession,  as  recorded  by  Johnj  is  the  same 
 as  that  recorded  by  Matthew,  and  nothing  essential  would  be  lost  if  it  were 
 so.  But  we  may  certainly  suppose  that,  at  so  critical  a  period,  Christ 
 could  have  questioned  his  disciples  thus  closely  on  two  different  occasions 
 in  regard  to  their  personal  con^^ctions,  which  were  soon  to  xindergo  so 
 severe  a  trial. 
 
296  JOUiOTEY  TO  XOBTH  GALILEE. 
 
 experience;  in  the  first  instance,  in  opposition  to  those  whose 
 heaits  \rere  wholly  estranged  from  Chnst ;  and  in  the  second, 
 to  those  who  had  obtained  only  an  inferior  intuition  of  the 
 person  of  Christ.  The  Sa%"iour.  therefore,  thought  him  worthy 
 of  the  follo\s-ing  high  praise:  "Blessed  art  thou,  for  jiesh  and 
 Mood  hath  not  revealed  it  unto  thee,  but  my  Father  which  is  in 
 heaven."  Peter  s  eonvicuon  was  the  result  of  no  human  teach- 
 ing, no  sensible  impression  or  outward  authority;  but  of  an 
 inward  revelation  from  God,  whose  drawing  he  had  always 
 followed — a  Divine  /act,  which  comes  not  to  men  from  with- 
 out :  which  no  education  or  science,  how  lofty  soever,  can  either 
 make  or  stand  in  stead  o£"^ 
 
 In  view  of  this  conviction  of  Peter,  thus  twice  confessed,  in 
 regard  to  that  great  fact  and  tmth  which  forms  the  unchange- 
 able and  immoveable  basis  of  the  eternal  kingdom  of  God, 
 Christ  called  him  by  the  name  which  at  an  early  j>eriod.  with 
 prophetic  glance,  he  had  applied  to  him  (John  L  42),  Me  man 
 of  rock,  on  whom  he  declared  that  he  would  build  his  Church, 
 that  should  triumph  over  all  the  powers  of  death,^  and  stand 
 to  all  eternity. 
 
 This  promise  was  not  made  to  Peter  as  a  person,  but  as  a 
 faithful  organ  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  his  steadfast  witness. 
 Christ  might  have  .said  the  same  to  any  one.  who,  at  such  a 
 moment,  and  in  such  a  sense,  had  made  the  same  confession; 
 although  Peter's  utteiing  it  in  the  name  of  all  the  twelve  ac- 
 corded with  his  peculiar  ■)(^aQi(Tua,  which  conditioned  the  post 
 that  Christ  assigned  to  him. 
 
 In  the  same  sense  he  confided  to  Peter  the  ■•'  keys  of  the 
 kingdom  of  Heaven,''  which  was  to  be  revealed  and  spread 
 abroad  among  men  by  the  community  fotmded  by  him ;  inas- 
 much as  men  were  to  gain  admittance  into  that  kingdom  by 
 appropriating  the  truth  to  which  he  had  first  testified,  and 
 which  he  was  afterward  to  proclaim.  This  was  to  be  the  key 
 by  which  the  kingdom  was  to  be  opened  to  all  men.  And 
 with  it  was  intrusted  to  him  the  power,  on  earth,  "to  bind 
 and  loose"  for  heaven;  since  he  was  called  to  announce  for- 
 
 •*  Cf.  p.  147. 
 
 '  The  '•  GaU^  of  ffadeg,"  in  Matt.  xvi.  18  (ct  Isa.  xxrdii.  10  ;  1  Cor. 
 XV.  55),  designate  rather  the  kingdom  of  rf«rM  than  of  Satan.  In  this 
 >-iew  the  paaeage  means,  that  '"'  the  Church  should  stand  for  ever,  and  thac 
 its  members,  partakers  of  the  Ihvinc  life,  should  fear  death  no  more" — of 
 coarse  implying,  however,  that  she  should  be  victorious  over  all  hostile 
 po-wers. 
 
THE  WEAJLSTSS  OF  FETTER  REBUKED.  297 
 
 gireness  of  sins  to  all  who  should  rightly  receive  the  Gospel 
 he  was  to  proclaim,  and  the  announcement  of  pardon  to  such 
 as  received  the  offered  grace  had  neces-sarilj-  to  be  accompanied 
 by  the  condemnation  of  those  who  rejected  it.^ 
 
 §  ISl. — The  Duciplcs proh.ihitfd  to  rmal  Christ's  Jfe-manic  Dirrnity. — The 
 Weakvjcss  of  Peter  rebuked.     (Matt.  xri.  20-28  ;  Mark  viil.  30.) 
 
 Thus  Cluist  confirmed  the  Apostles  in  their  confession  of 
 his  Messianic  dignity.  But  he  knew,  at  the  same  time,  that 
 their  minds  were  still  tinctured  with  the  ordinary  idea^  and 
 expectations  of  a  visible  kingdom  to  be  founded  by  Mes.siah ; 
 and  he  therefore  gradually  tausht  them  that  it  was  by  his  own 
 sufferings  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  to  be  established. 
 [Then  cha.rged  he  his  di-i-cip^es  that  tJiey  shoxOd  teU.  'iw  man  that 
 he  ti'os  Jesus  the  Christ.  From  thai  time  he  began  to  show  to 
 his  disciples  hoK  that  he  must  go  to  Jerusalem  and  svffer  many 
 things,  <^'-c.] 
 
 The  prohibition  Ts^as  doubtless  gi%"en  with  a  view  to  prevent 
 them  from  diffusing  the  expectation?  of  Messiah  which  they 
 then  entertained,  and  thus  leading  the  }:>eople  to  political  un- 
 dertakings, and  the  like,  in  opj.>osition  to  the  objects  of  Christ. 
 The  words  that  immediately  foUow  the  prohibition  confirm 
 this  %-iew  of  it.  But  Christs  declarations  that  s>.i.tferings  lay 
 before  him  was  too  iar  opposed  to  the  disciples"  opinions  and 
 wishes  to  find  easy  entrance  to  their  minds.  "  Be  it  far  from 
 thee,  Lord,'  said  Peter:  an  exclamation  inspired,  indeed,  by 
 love,  but  a  love  attaching  itself  rather  to  the  earthly  manifes- 
 tation of  Christ's  person,  than  to  its  higher  one;  a  love  in 
 which  natural  and  human  feelings  were  not  as  yet  made  suffi- 
 ciently stibc>rdinate  to  (tOD  and  his  kingdom.  And  as  the 
 Savioiu-  had  just  before  exalted  Peter  so  highly,  when  he  tes- 
 tified to  that  which  had  not  been  revealed  to  him  by  flesh  and 
 blood,  but  by  the  Father  in  heaven ;  so  now  he  reproved  him 
 as  severely  for  an  utterance  inspired  by  a  love  too  much  de- 
 based by  flesh  and  blood.  Human  considerations  were  more 
 to  him  than  the  cause  of  God  ;  he  sought,  by  presenting  them, 
 as  far  as  in  bini  lay.  to  prevent  Christ  from  offering  the  sacri- 
 
 '  This  -view  of  the  'binding  and  loosing"  power  is  sustained  by  John 
 xs.  23.  The  same  thing  is  expressed  in  other  words  in  Matt.  x.  IS  ; 
 2  Cor.  ii.  15.  16.  The  difference  between  the  figure  of  "the  kevs"  and 
 that  of  "  binding  and  loosing"  need  cause  no  difficulty  ;  thev  refer  to  dif- 
 ferent conceptions  :  the  former,  to  reception  into,  and  exclusion  Srom.  the 
 kingdom  of  Heaven  ;  the  latter,  to  the  mcatis  of  reception  and  exclusi<Hi, 
 viz.  the  pardon  of  sin  and  the  withholding  of  pardon. 
 
298  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 iice  wMcli  his  Divine  calling  demanded  ;S  and  his  disposition 
 was  rebuked  -with  holy  indignation.^ 
 
 Christ  then  turned  to  his  disciples,  and  gave  them  a  lesson 
 directly  opposed  to  Peter's  weak  xinwillingness  to  sacrifice 
 everything  to  the  one  holy  interest.  He  impressed  upon  them 
 a  truth  pre-eminently  necessaiy  to  the  fulfilment  of  their  call- 
 ing, viz.  that  none  but  those  who  were  prepared  for  every 
 species  of  self-denial*  could  become  his  disciples,  and  enter  into 
 the  kmgdom  of  God,  whose  foundations  he  was  about  to  lay. 
 ^Finally,  he  announced  to  them  that  many  among  them  would 
 live  to  see  the  kingdom  of  God  come  forth  in  glorious  victory 
 over  aU  its  foes.  It  is  true,  they  were  not  at  that  time  able 
 fully  to  comprehend  this ;  only  at  a  later  period,  by  the  illu- 
 mination of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  by  the  course  of  events,  the 
 best  commentary  on  prophecy,  were  they  to  be  brought  com- 
 pletely to  understand  it. 
 
 §  182. — Monitions  of  Christ  to  tlie  Apostles  in  regard  to  Prudence  in  their 
 
 Ministry. — (1.)    The   Wisdom  of  Serpents  amd  Harmlessness  of  Doves. 
 
 (Matt.  X.  16.) — (2.)  The  Parable  of  the   Unjust  Steward.     (Luke  xvi. 
 
 1-13.) — (3.)  "Make  to  yourselves  Friends  of  tJie  Mammon  of  Unrighteous- 
 
 ness,"  &c. 
 
 (!•) 
 
 To  this  period,  in  which  Christ  conversed  with  his  disciples 
 in  regard  to  their  first  missionaiy  tour,  and  gave  them  cautions 
 for  their  future  and  more  difficult  labours,  doubtless  belong 
 many  advices  of  the  same  tenor,  found  in  different  places  in 
 the  Gospels.  We,  therefore,  join  together  several  sayings  of 
 this  kind  here ;  if  not  chronologically,  at  least  according  to  the 
 substantial  connexion. 
 
 ^  The  alternations  in  Peter's  feelings,  and  his  consequent  desert  of  praise 
 or  blame  from  the  Master,  within  so  short  a  time,  are  so  easily  explained 
 from  the  stand-point  which  he  then  occupied,  that  I  cannot  find  anything 
 strange  in  Christ's  expressing  himself  thus  oppositely  to  him,  as  Schleien-- 
 macher  does  (Werke,  ii.  107)-  And,  therefore,  I  see  no  internal  ground 
 for  believing  that  the  passage  is  not  properly  connected  with  the  narrative 
 here. 
 
 ^  This  helps  to  fix  the  right  point  of  view  for  understanding  Christ's  pre- 
 vious declaration  and  promise  to  Peter  ;  and  the  two  addresses  to  him, 
 taken  together,  attest  the  fidelity  of  the  narrative  as  uncorrupted  by  a  later 
 ecclesiastical  interest. 
 
 '  It  was  naturally  necessary  for  Christ  to  impress  this  truth  frcqiUMtly 
 upon  the  disciples  ;  Matt.  xvi.  24  ;  Mark  viii.  34,  35  ;  Luke  ix.  23,  24  ; 
 and,  therefore,  the  occurrence  of  similar  passages,  e.  g.  Matt.  x.  38  ;  John 
 xii.  25,  2C,  proves  nothing  against  tlie  originality  of  the  discourses  there 
 recorded  ;  although  it  is  possible  tliat  his  sajrings  to  this  effect  on  one 
 occasion  may  have  been  combined  with  tliose  uttered  on  another  to  the 
 aame  tenor. 
 
THE  UNJUST  STEWARD.  299 
 
 As  he  sent  the  disciples  forth  like  defenceless  sheep  among 
 wolves,  he  bade  them,  in  the  struggles  through  wliich  they 
 must  pass,  to  combine  childlike  innocence  and  purity  of  heart, 
 symbolized  by  the  harmless  dove,  vnih.  prudence  and  sagacity, 
 whose  symbol  was  the  serpent.J  They  were,  indeed,  to  labour 
 as  organs  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  and  to  be  furnished  with 
 Divine  powers  for  their  ministry;  but  he  did  not  wish  them, 
 on  that  account,  to  neglect  aU  proper  human  means  for  over- 
 coming the  difficulties  they  should  meet  -with,  but  rather  to 
 apply  that  wisdom  which  knows  how  to  use  circumstances  pru- 
 dently. No  such  mle  wovdd  have  been  given  had  he  expected 
 his  kingdom  soon  to  be  established  by  a  sudden  interference  of 
 Omnipotence ;  it  was  prescribed  in  view  of  a  gradual  develop- 
 ment by  the  use  of  means  provided  in  the  genei-al  com'se  of 
 nature. 
 
 Yet  the  attempt  to  exercise  prudence  for  the  kingdom  of 
 God  might  (he  taught)  easily  beguile  them  fi-om  purity  and 
 simplicity  of  heart.  The  wisdom  of  the  serpent  was,  therefore, 
 limited  by  the  innocence  of  the  dove ;  their  prudence  was  to 
 be  defined  by  purity.  They  were  to  use  none  but  pure  and 
 tinithful  means  for  the  advancement  of  the  holy  objects  of  the 
 kingdom.  On  the  other  hand,  the  combination  of  ioisdom  with 
 innocence  showed  that  the  childlike  simplicity  of  discipleship 
 was  perfectly  consistent  with  the  culture  and  use  of  the  tmder- 
 standing,  and  with  a  judicious  share  in  the  manifold  and  diver- 
 sified relations  of  life ;  the  one  thing  needful  was,  that  purity 
 should  inspire  their  wisdom.  Here,  as  always,  Christ  brings 
 into  their  higher  unity  tilings  which  elsewhere  opjiose  and 
 contradict  eacli  other. 
 
 (2.) 
 
 The  parable  of  the  Unjicst  Steward  illustrates  tliis  combina- 
 tion of  simplicity  with  ])rudence.^  We  find  the  main  point  of 
 comparison  not,  as  some  do,  in  the  proper  management  of 
 earthly  possessions,  but  in  the  words  emphasized  by  Christ 
 himself :  "  The-  children  of  this  world  are  wiser  in  their  genera- 
 
 j  Paul,  who  frequently  alludes  to  Christ's  sayings,  does  so  several  times 
 to  this  one,  Rom.  xvi.  19  ;  1  Cor.  xiv.  20.  I  place  the  passage  in  this 
 connexion  as  better  adapted  to  it  than  to  the  first  Apostolical  missionary 
 journey. 
 
 ''  It  is  to  be  noted  that  this  parable,  according  to  Luke  xvi.  1,  was 
 addressed  to  the  disciples,  even  though  we  apply  the  word  to  the  lai^r 
 circle  of  disciples,  and  not  specifically  to  the  Apostles.  We  need  not 
 suppose,  from  v.  14,  that  it  was  directed  against  the  avarice  of  the 
 Pharisees. 
 
300  JOURXEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 tion  than  the  childre)L  of  light''  (v.  8).  The  cliildren  of  tlie 
 world,  using  more  wisdom  than  the  children  of  light,  often 
 succeed  in  caiT>-ing  out  their  purposes  against  the  latter;  as, 
 on  the  other  hand,  the  children  of  light  fad  of  ends  connected 
 with  the  Divine  kingdom,  because  they  lack  ^visdom  in  the 
 choice  of  the  means.  That  wisdom,  thei-efore,  which  charac- 
 tei-izes  the  children  of  the  world  is  to  be  recommended  to  the 
 childi'eu  of  light.  This  is  the  main  thought ;  the  proper  use 
 of  earthly  goods,  subordinating  everjiilung  to  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  is  a  uiinor  f)ne.  Keeping  this  in  A'iew,  the  difficidties  of 
 the  parable  vanish ;  the  special  feature  in  it  wliich  fonns  a 
 stumbling-block  to  some  will  be  fouud  precisely  adapted  to 
 tliis  thought,  and  necessaiy  to  its  illustration. 
 
 The  example  of  the  unjust  steward  is  to  be  imitated,  not  in 
 regard  to  the  disposition  that  imi)elled  him,  but  to  his  undi- 
 "xided  attention  to  everytliing  which  could  sen'e  as  a  means  to 
 his  ends.  As  the  cliildreu  of  the  world  aim  steatlily  at  their 
 selfish  objects,  and,  >vith  ever-watchful  pnidence,  seize  upon  all 
 the  means  necessaiy  to  secure  them,  so  the  chilcb-en  of  light 
 are  to  keep  constantly  before  their  ej'es  the  relations  of  life  to 
 the  Divine  kingdom,  and  to  press  everything  into  their  service 
 in  its  behalf.  It  is,  indeed,  a  difficidt  task  to  combine  the 
 singleness  of  aim  and  simi)licity  of  heart  which  the  Gospel  re- 
 quires \ni\i  that  shrewd  sagacity  wliich  can  Ijend  all  eaithly 
 tlungs  to  its  holy  purj)Oses.  Yet  if  the  aim  to  serve  Gods 
 kingdom  be  the  ruling  power  of  one's  life,  and  all  the  manifold 
 interests  of  life  are  made  subordinate  thereto ;  if  the  holy  d^ci- 
 81071  be  once  made  and  never  swei'\'ed  from,  it  will  bring  forth, 
 as  one  of  its  neces.sary  finiits,  this  tiTie  .sagacity  and  moral  pre- 
 sence of  mind.  It  is  precisely  this  connexion  of  prudence  with 
 a  single,  steadfast  aim,  though  a  bad  one,  that  is  illustrated  in 
 the  conduct  of  the  uuju.st  steward.  A  bad  man  was  neces-sarily 
 chosen  for  the  example ;  its  very  object  was  to  .show  how  much 
 the  children  of  light  might  do  for  the  kingdom  of  God,  if  they 
 would,  in  tins  re.spect,  imitate  the  children  of  the  world. 
 
 (3.) 
 The  subordinate  i)oint  of  the  parable  is  the  special  ajyplica- 
 tion  of  this  ])nidence  to  the  use  of  earthly  goods.  We  must 
 take  care,  in  inteqireting  the  -serses  wliich  follow,  not  to  lose 
 sight  of  the  parable  itself.  As  the  unjust  steward  secures  the 
 favour  of  the  debtors  by  gratuities,  in  order  to  make  siu-e  of  a 
 home  for  himself  when  his  oflBce  is  taken  away ;  so  the  children 
 of  light,  by  the  rig)  it  use  of  earthly  possessions,  ai-e  to  make 
 
THE  MAMMON  OF  UXRIGHTEOUSXESS.  301 
 
 for  themselves  friends  who  will  receive  them  into  everlasting 
 mansions  when  they  are  called  away  from  this  life. 
 
 It  is  plain  that  charities  to  the  pious  are  meant  here,  as 
 none  can  "receive  into  everlasting  habitations"  unless  they 
 themselves  dwell  there.  Eut  it  woidd  be  inconsistent  Nvith 
 Chi'ist's  general  teaching  to  suppose  that  he  meant  to  say  that 
 pious  soids  in  heaven  would  have  the  power  to  receive  those 
 Avho  had  done  kindness  to  them  on  earth  into  a  share  of  their 
 blessedness;  or  that  the  mei'ely  outward  act  of  alms-gi\-ing  to 
 the  pious  could  atone  for  pa.st  sins  and  secure  eternal  joy.  The 
 persons  addx-essed  are  presupposed  as  idreadi/  "  children  of 
 light;"  and  they  are  requii'ed  to  manifest  theii-  inward  feelings 
 in  outward  acts.  The  active  love  of  Chi-istians  is  to  show  itself 
 .such,  in  the  use  of  earthly  goods,  by  shai-ing  them  A^-ith  fellow- 
 Chi-istians.  "  Fit  yoiu-selves,  by  your  labours  of  love,  to  be- 
 come fellow-inmates  of  the  heavenly  mansions  with  those 
 Avhose  wants  you  have  willingly  alle\-iated  diu-ing  their  earthly 
 wa}iuring."  The  form  of  exjjression  is  adapted  to  the  parable ; 
 there  the  debtors  of  the  rich  man  were  made  friends  by  the 
 unjust  steward  to  secui-e  a  home  on  eaith;  here  the  pious  poor 
 are  made  friends  by  the  Christian  to  secm-e  an  eternal  mansion 
 in  heaven. 
 
 Christ  annexes  to  this  application  of  the  pax-able  certain 
 directions  for  the  use  of  property  by  the  children  of  God.  He 
 designates  worldly  goods  ^m^^wrde  riig  ocikuic,  aciicoc  f^ia/A^UJi'dc; 
 because  they  are  usually  unjustly  obtained,  and  employed  iu 
 the  service  of  the  dcA-il,  who  is,  and  will  be,  the  ruler  of  this 
 world  (and  thus  called  KotxiioKpariop)  until  the  consummation  of 
 tlie  kingdom  of  Gk)D.  And  this  e\il  mammon  is  contrasted 
 with  the  true  riches,  which  cannot  be  possessed  except  by  the 
 children  of  light.'  The  wealth  of  this  world  belongs  to  the 
 children  of  this  world,  who  devote  it  to  the  serAace  of  Evil ;  it 
 is  anotJver  mans,  and  not  the  Christian's  OAvn ;  while  he  dwells 
 in  a  world  of  strangers,  he  knows  of  higher  riches,  of  which 
 the  worldling  is  totally  ignoi'ant.'" 
 
 '  The  antithesis  of  iitiKov  and  a\t)9ii'6v,  in  v.  11,  miffht  lead  us  to 
 interpret  the  first  as  '•  what  is,  in  itself,  not  good  ;"  but  the  phrase  fia/i- 
 fnofUQ  Ti'ig  dSiKiag,  and  the  implied  allusion  to  the  parable,  favour  the 
 sense  given  in  the  text. 
 
 "  Here  is  illustrated  the  difference  between  the  Ebionitish  idea  of 
 worldly  goods  and  the  true  Christian  view.  According  to  the  first,  Satan 
 is  Lord  and  Master  of  this  world  in  a  physical  sense  ;  and  the  possession 
 of  property,  beyonil  the  bare  necessaries,  is  considered  as  sinful  in  itself,  as 
 sharing  in  a  domain  which  ought  to  be  left  exclusively  to  tlie  servants  of 
 
302  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GAULEE. 
 
 The  suminaiy,  then,  of  precepts  annexed  to  the  pai-able  by 
 Christ,  and  illustrating  its  import,  is  as  follows  (v.  10-13) :  "Be 
 faithful  in  managing  your  earthly  property,  that  you  may  be 
 found  "worthy  to  be  intmsted  with  the  higher  riches.  '  He  that 
 is  faithful  in  the  least,  is  faithful  also  in  much;'  the  fidelity 
 which  is  proved  by  the  right  use  of  wealth  may  be  trusted 
 with  the  riches  of  the  kingdom.  The  latter  will  be  granted 
 in  proportion  to  the  former.  '  But  he  that  is  unjust  in  the 
 least,  'will  be  unjust  also  in  much.'  Who  will  trust  you  with 
 the  tnie  riches,  if  you  misapply  the  unrighteous  mammon  ? 
 '  And  if  ye  have  not  been  faithful  in  that  which  is  another's, 
 who  shall  give  you  that  which  is  your  own?'  Who  will  give 
 you  that  which  properly  belongs  to  your  higher  nature,  if  you 
 mismanaged  what  was  not  your  own,  but  only  intrusted  to 
 you?" 
 
 The  concluding  thought  is :  "  No  servant  can  serve  twf i 
 masters  at  once,  the  servant,  in  the  strictest  sense,  being 
 wholly  dependent  upon  the  master,  and,  in  fact,  liis  instru- 
 ment; so  no  man  can  have  two  masters  spiritually;  the  one 
 only  who  rules  the  whole  hfe  is  tlie  master."  No  man's  life 
 can  depend,  at  the  same  time,  upon  both  God  and  Mammon. 
 To'  find  one's  true  good  in  Mammon,  and  to  serve  GrOD  as 
 Master,  these  things  are  incompatible.  The  true  child  of  GrOD 
 applies  his  earthly  wealth  to  his  service,  and  therein  proves 
 himself  a  faithful  servant ;  regarding  it  not  as  a  good  in  itself, 
 but  only  in  its  bearing  upon  the  kingdom  of  God — the  highest 
 good. 
 
 It  is  clear  that  this  passage  (placed  out  of  its  connexion  in 
 Matt.  vi.  24)  stands  properly  here,  closely  joined  to  the  parable ; 
 and,  indeed,  requisite  to  set  the  idea  of  the  parable  in  its  pro- 
 per light.  The  piincipal  scope  of  the  latter,  as  we  have  seen, 
 is  to  show  the  connexion  between  tcisdom  and  a  steadfast  aim 
 of  life;  and  the  passage  in  question  (v.  13)  contains  precisely 
 
 Satan.  According  to  the  latter,  earthly  gooda  are  not  the  true  riches, 
 which  the  Christian  alone  can  possess,  and  shall  possess  for  ever,  in  greater 
 and  greater  fulness  ;  they  belong  to  Satan  in  the  same  sense  as  the  whole 
 world  belongs  to  him.  But  as  the  world,  from  a  kingdom  of  Satan,  is  to 
 become  the  kingdom  of  God,  so  worldly  goods  are  to  be  employed  by  the 
 children  of  light  to  advance  the  latter,  with  a  wisdom  (illustrated  in  the 
 parable)  not  to  be  surpassed  by  the  wisdom  of  the  world.  It  is  to  be 
 remarked  that  Christ,  instead  of  presenting  the  principle  in  its  abstract 
 generality,  applied  it  specifically  to  acts  of  benevolence  ;  the  disciples  at 
 that  period,  had  no  opportunity  of  employing  their  property  to  fiirther  the 
 other  objects  of  the  kingdom  of  GOD,  such  as  have  been  abundantly  fur- 
 nished in  the  later  course  of  its  development.     Cf.  De  Wettc,  Matt.  xix.  21. 
 
THE  UNJUST  STEWAKD.  303 
 
 the  same  thought ;  as  it  teaches  that  we  canuot  rightly  use 
 our  earthly  goods  unless  we  make  oiu*  choice  decidedly  between. 
 God  and  the  world,  and  then,  with  undivided  aim,  refer  all 
 things  to  the  one  Master  to  whom  we  have  consecrated  our 
 whole  life. 
 
 Thus  the  parable  illustrates  the  precept,  "  Be  zcise  as  serpents, 
 wnd  Imrirdess  as  doves."  It  exhibits  the  unjust  steward  as  a 
 model  of  serpent  wisdom,  which,  imitated  by  Christians,  be- 
 comes the  wisdom  of  innocence.  The  concluding  words  of 
 Christ,  above  explained  (v.  13),  teach  that  the  true  simplicity, 
 i.  e.  singleness  of  aim,  generates  that  controlling  presence  of 
 mind  which  is  the  element  of  wisdom.  What,  at  a  later  period, 
 was  the  chief  source  of  Paul's  Apostolical  wisdom  but  this, 
 that  his  heart  was  not  divided  between  God  and  the  world ; 
 that  he  had  but  one  aim,  and  served  but  one  Master  1 
 
 §  183. — Caution  against  Imprudent  Zeal  in  Preaching  t/ie  Gospel. 
 
 Akin  to  the  wisdom  thus  recommended  to  the  Apostles,  is 
 the  rule  of  preaching  the  truth,  given  in  Matt.  vii.  6,  Give  tiot 
 that  which  is  holy  unto  ilie  dogs,  neitlier  cast  ye  your  pearls  before 
 sivitie,  lest  they  trample  them  tinder  their  feet,  aiid  turn  again  and, 
 rend  you.  "  Valuable  as  pearls  are  to  men,  they  would  only 
 enrage  himgry  swine,  who  would  trample  them,  and  i-ush  upon 
 him  that  had  so  deceived  their  hunger."  Under  this  vivid 
 illustration,  Christ  enjoined  his  disciples  to  guard  against 
 hastily  offering  the  sacred  truths  of  the  kingdom  to  minds  car- 
 nally unfit  for  them,  and  destitute  of  a  sense  of  spiiitual  need  ; 
 the  holy  pearls  would  be  valueless  in  the  eyes  of  such.  To 
 meet  them  on  their  own  ground,  and  yet  offer  them  nothing 
 to  satisfy  their  carnal  desires,  would  only  rouse  their  evil  pas- 
 sions, and  expose  valuable  lives,  which  ought  to  be  preserved, 
 for  the  kingdom  of  God,  without  doing  any  good.  The  witness 
 for  the  truth  must  needs  be  zealous  and  courageous,  but  he 
 need  not  be  imprudent  or  indiscreet. 
 
 The  Apostles,  then,  were  cautioned  against  the  error  into 
 which  some  later  missionaries  have  fallen,  of  offering  the  Gos- 
 pel, under  the  impulse  of  inconsiderate  zeal,  without  regard  to 
 the  proprieties  of  time  and  place.  StiU,  it  by  no  means  fol- 
 lowed that  they  were  not  to  preach  imder  circumstances  in 
 which  the  Word  might  prove  a  stone  of  offence  to  some,  while 
 it  pricked  others  to  the  heart ;  the  Word  was  destined,  of  ne- 
 cessity, to  sift  the  various  classes  of  men  that  shoidd  heai-  it. 
 Nor  was  the  caution  neglected  by  Christ  himself,  when  he  re- 
 
304  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 fused  to  allow  the  rage  of  carnal  and  narrow-minded  heai'ers 
 to  hinder  him  from  uttering  his  truths  boldly,  and  without 
 regard  to  consequences,  revealing  a  spu-itual  power  that  defied 
 all  opposition ;  or  when  he  pimished  their  obdui-acy  by  ceasing 
 to  condescend  to  their  weakness  and  prejudice,  and  by  offering 
 the  tiaith  in  its  sharp  and  naked  outlines,  even  although  it 
 excited  the  wTath  of  some,  while  it  led  others  to  reflection. 
 
 The  apophtliegm  that  we  have  just  considered  was  in  itself 
 a  judgment  and  a  prediction.  The  more  immediate  applica- 
 tion of  such  sayings  depended  upon  the  circumstances  under 
 which  they  wei'e  uttered;  to  interpret  them,  it  is  not  sufficient 
 to  have  their  Utter  only,  but  also  the  life-giving  Spirit  which 
 originally  inspired  them. 
 
 An  ancient  and  widespread  tradition  ascribes  to  Christ  the 
 following  saying :  "  yivEade  Tpane'Cirui  toKifiot  :  become  approved 
 nioney-cIui7i(/ers."  This  expression  bears  the  stamp  of  Chi-ist's 
 figiu'ative  manner  of  speech;  and  the  external  and  internal 
 evidence  is  in  favour  of  its  genuineness.'*  If  tliis  expression 
 be  deemed  akin  to  the  pai-able  of  the  Talents,  its  sense  could 
 be  given  th\is :  "  Be  like  acute  nioney-clia/ngers ;  adding  dailif  to 
 the  capital  intrusted  to  you.''  But  the  pxincipal  figm-e  in  the 
 parable  of  the  talents  is  not  the  money-changer,  but  the  persou 
 who  puts  money  at  interest  with  him ;  and,  besides,  the  money- 
 changers did  not  gain  money  with  bonowed  capital,  but  with 
 their  own.  We  must,  therefore,  look  for  an  interpretation 
 more  in  accordance  with  the  business  of  the  broker.  Eccle- 
 siastical antiquity,  wliich  perhaps  first  received  these  words  of 
 Christ  in  connexion  with  others  that  explained  them,  affords 
 us  such  an  interpretation.  It  was  pai't  of  tlie  business  of  the 
 money-changer  to  distinguish  genitine  from  counterfeit  coin. 
 So  Christ  might  have  given  this  rule,  capable  of  manifold  ap- 
 plication in  the  labom-s  of  the  Apostles;  to  imply  a  careful 
 circumspection  in  oixler  to  tlistinguish  the  tnie  from  the  appa- 
 rent, the  genuine  from  the  counterfeit,  the  pui-e  from  tlie 
 alloyed ;  not  to  co}idemn  hastily,  but,  on  the  other  hand,  not 
 to  tnist  lightly. 
 
 »  See  Fahic'd,  Cod.  Apocnjph.  N.  T.  \.  330  ;  iii.  524.  We  find  tliis 
 saying  in  apocryplial  writings,  both  heretical  and  Catholic  :  and  many 
 imitations  of  it  Kceni  to  have  been  made  by  the  ecclesiasticjil  teachers  of 
 the  first  century,  which  could  not  h.ave  happened  at  that  time,  had  it  not 
 Ijeen  uttered  by  Christ  or  one  of  the  Apostles.  Paul  (whose  writings  con- 
 tained many  allusions  to  Christ's  words,  and  sentiments  taking  their  hue 
 from  them)  jierhaps  had  this  saying  in  mind  in  1  Thess.  v.  21,  as  has  been 
 sup])()sed  by  Jldnscl,  with  whose  view  of  the  apophthegm  I  agree. — {Stud, 
 u.  Krit  183(),  I.) 
 
THE  SYRO-PHCENICIAN  WOMAX.  305 
 
 §  ISi.—  The  Syro-Phcenician   Woman.     (Matt.  xv.  21  ;  Mark  vii.  24.) — 
 '(1.)  Her  Pra}/er.—(2.)  Her  Rejmhe.—{d.}  Her  Faith.— {i.)  The  Result. 
 
 (1-) 
 
 Christ,  liaving  passed  beyond  the  northern  bolder  of  Gahlee, 
 reached  a  place  where  he  wished  to  remain  ixnknown.  But 
 tlie  fame  of  liis  mii-acles  had  preceded  his  arrival.  A  heathen 
 woman  of  the  neighbourhood  (a  Canaanite  or  Phcenician), 
 whose  daughter  was  a  demoniac,  hastened  to  seek  help  from 
 the  Sa\'ionr.  As  he  Avent  otit  with  the  disciples,  she  ran  and 
 cried  to  him,  "Have  mercy  on  me,  0  Lord!  tJiou  Son  of  David; 
 my  daughter  is  grievoiidy  vexed  with  a  devil." 
 .       .(2.) 
 
 "  Bvi  "lie  answered  and  said,  I  am  not  sent  hut  unto  tlie  lost 
 slieep  of  tlie  limise  of  Isi'ael.  .  ...  It  is  not  meet  to  take  the  chil- 
 dren s  bread  and  to  cast  it  to  dogs."  Taking  tliis  reply  alone, 
 apart  from  the  circumstances  under  which  Christ  uttered  it, 
 it  appears  mysterious  indeed,  that  he  should  so  emphatically 
 restrict  his  mission  to  the  Jew.s,  that  he  should  speak  of  the 
 heathen  in  such  a  tone  of  contempt,  and  repel  the  prayer  of 
 the  woman  with  so  much  severity.  But  although  we  may  not 
 be  able,  from  the  close  and  abridged  naiTative,  to  obtain  a  clear 
 \-iew  of  the  mattei",  we  c<an  yet  remove  its  difficulties  to  a  great 
 extent  by  consideriug  it  in  its  jiroper  historical  connexion." 
 
 We  have  before  said,  that  the  restiiction  of  Christ's  mission 
 to  the  lost  sheep  of  the  house  of  Israel  Avas  not  inconsistent 
 Tvith  his  piirpose  of  establisliing  a  universal  kingdom.  This 
 i-estriction  referred  to  his  personal  agency,  which  in  fact  be- 
 longed to  the  Jewnsh  j^eople ;  not,  however  (as  he  himself  said), 
 but  that  he  had  "  other  sheep  not  belonging  to  this  fold,"  which 
 were  at  some  time  to  be  brought  into  the  same  fold,  and  under 
 the  same  shephei-d,  A^-ith  the  lost  sheej^  of  the  hou.se  of  Israel. 
 But  in  other  ca.ses,  also  (as  we  have  seen),  he  affijrded  his  j^er- 
 ,<*0Hal  assistance  to  individual  heathens.  We  must,  thei-efore, 
 seek  the  reasons  of  Chri.st's  conduct  in  the  pecuhar  circum- 
 stances of  the  case,  and  of  the  time  at  which  it  occurred. 
 
 In  the  first  place,  it  is  clear  that  he  wished,  at  that  juncture, 
 to  remain  hidden,  and  therefore  to  avoid  public  labours  (Mark 
 \"ii.  24).     In  the  preWous  cases  in  which  he  had  assisted  indi- 
 
 "  Tlie  attempt  to  remove  these  difficulties  by  the  theory  that  Christ 
 .-Jtered  his  plan  at  different  periods  cannot  be  made  to  hamionize  with 
 the  attendant  circumstances  of  this  case,  as  related  by  ^lark  as  well  as 
 Matthew  ;  for  these  circumstances  (the  journey  into  North  Galilee,  &c.) 
 prove  that  this  case  must  be  placed  chronologically  after  other  cases  in 
 ■which  Christ  had  assisted  individual  heathens. 
 
306  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 vidual  pagans,  no  further  consequences  were  likely  to  follow , 
 but  his  agency  in  this  case  was  likely  to  draw  multitudes 
 around  him,  and  to  extend  his  ministxy  among  the  heathen,  in 
 opposition  to  his  general  plan.  His  action,  therefore,  was 
 directed  only  to  the  Apostles  and  to  the  woman ;  the  latter  he 
 wished  to  relieve  after  she  had  proved  her  faith  and  poured 
 out  her  whole  heart  before  him ;  to  the  former  the  case  afforded 
 an  example  of  pagan  faith  that  might  shame  the  Jews,  and 
 teach  the  Apostles  that  the  heathen  would  yet  believe  in  liim, 
 and  share,  through  their  faith,  in  the  blessings  of  his  kingdom. 
 It  may  be  a  question  whether  this  was  Cluist's  intention  from 
 the  beginning,  or  whether  the  woman's  fervent  prayer  and 
 believing  importunity  overcame  his  first  purpose  to  6end  her 
 away.  There  is  nothing  in  the  latter  supposition  inconsistent 
 with  the  character  of  Jesus,  since,  in  liis  purely  hmnan  being, 
 he  was  difierently  determined  by  different  circumstances. 
 
 And  again,  hard  as  the  words  "one  ought  oiot  to  cast  tlie 
 cldldreyHs  bread  to  the  dogs'''  may  sound  to  us,  we  must  remem- 
 ber that  it  was  a  figiirative  expression,  meaning  nothing  more 
 than  that  the  mercies  destined  for  the  Theocratic  people  could 
 not  as  yet  be  extended  to  a  people  at  that  time  far  from  the 
 kingdom  of  God,  and  by  no  means  excluding  the  expectation 
 that  this  relation  should  be  so  changed  as  that  all  should  be- 
 come "childi'en." 
 
 (3.) 
 
 The  woman  doubtless  felt  that  these  words,  severe  as  they 
 were,  came  from  a  heart  overflowing  with  love,  and  she  con- 
 tinued her  prayer  with  trustful  importunity,  herself  entering 
 into  the  words  of  Christ,  and  acknowledging  their  truth.  "  Yes, 
 Lwd;  yet  the  dogs  eat  of  tlve  Gnjumhs  which  faU  from  their  mas- 
 ters table." 
 
 Now,  if  this  total  abasement  before  a  man  of  another  nation 
 be  regarded  merely  as  an  outward  and  human  submission  for 
 the  sake  of  a  bodily  blessing,  it  must  appear  abject  indeed  ; 
 nor  could  Christ  have  praised  it,  and  granted  the  favour  so 
 earnestly  3'et  basely  sought.  But  it  Avas  not  of  such  a  charac- 
 ter; the  pagan  woman  felt  herself  unworthy  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God,  and  therefore  was  not  degraded  by  her  sense  of  infe- 
 riority to  the  Theocratic  nation ;  she  humbled  herself,  not 
 before  a  iiumi,  but  before  one  in  whom  (whatever  conception 
 she  had  of  his  person)  God  revealed  himsdfto  her  heart;  it  was 
 to  a  Divine  poAver,  not  a  human,  that  she  gave  so  lowly  a  sub- 
 mission.    It  is  precisely  this  sense  of  unworthiness  and  uncon- 
 
THE  TRANSFIGURATION.  307 
 
 ditional  submission  to  God,  when  revealed  in  liis  omnipotence 
 and  mercy;  it  is  precisely  Faith,  in  tliis  peculiarly  Christian 
 sense,  -which  is  made,  throughout  the  New  Testament,  the 
 condition  of  all  manifestations  of  the  grace  of  God.  The  act 
 of  Christ  in  the  case  illustrated  his  own  saying,  "  He  that  hum- 
 hleth  himself  shall  be  exalted;"  he  answered  the  woman,  com- 
 mending her  as  he  would  not  commend  the  Jews,  "  0  ivommi, 
 great  is  thy  faith;  he  it  imto  thee  even  as  tlmu  loilt."  He  set  up 
 the  believing  woman  as  a  pattern  of  that  faith  which  was  to 
 become,  among  the  pagans,  the  foundation  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God. 
 
 Thus,  again  and  again,  under  the  most  varied  circumstances, 
 did  Christ  set  forth  the  value  in  which  he  held  a  spirit  of 
 humble,  self-denying  devotion  to  God  and  submission  to  his 
 revelation  in  Christ;  this  spirit,  so  irreconcilably  opposed  to 
 the  pride  of  natural  Reason,  which,  in  the  ancient  world,  was 
 held  to  be  man's  highest  dignity,  was  made  by  Christ  the 
 essential  condition  of  participation  in  liis  kingdom.  Idle, 
 indeed,  and  vain,  therefore,  must  be  all  attempts  to  make 
 Christianity,  in  tliis  sense,  a  religion  of  reason,  or  to  make 
 Christian  ethics  a  morality  of  reason. 
 
 The  transaction  affords  another  lesson  also.  The  Christian 
 may  comfort  himself  under  the  hai-dest  trials  and  severest 
 struggles — nay,  even  when  his  most  ardent  prayers  appear  to 
 be  unheard  and  unanswered — with  the  consoliiig  belief  that 
 behind  the  veil  of  harshness  the  Fathei-'s  love  conceals  itself: 
 
 [Behind  the  frowning  Providence 
 He  hides  a  smiling  face.] 
 
 §  185. — Tlie  Transfigwation  of  Christ.     (Luke  ix.  29-36.) 
 Six  daysP  after  the  conversation  in  which  Christ  first  im- 
 folded  to  the  Apostles  the  sufferings  and  the  fate  that  awaited 
 him,  he  took  Peter,  James,  and  John  up  into  a  mountain  apart, 
 a/nd  tvas  transfigured  before  them. 
 
 The  Transfiguration  may  be  considered  either  (1)  as  an  ob- 
 jective fact,  a  real  communication  with  the  world  of  spirits ; 
 or  (2)  as  a  subjective  psychological  phenomenon.  The  account 
 of  Luke  bears  indubitable  marks  of  originality  and  historical 
 truth ;  the  attempts  that  have  been  made  to  resolve  it  into  a 
 
 P  Luke  says  eight  days,  Matthew  six,  involving  no  discrepancy,  now- 
 ever,  for  it  is  easy  to  show  that  they  employed  diflFerent  modes  of  compu- 
 tation. Statements  of  time  thus  agreeing  in  fiict,  but  differing  in  form,  are 
 among  the  surest  signs  of  veracity  in  historical  narratives. 
 
 x2 
 
308  o'OURNET  TO  NORTH  GALILEK. 
 
 mythical  narrative  are  absurd.  But  it  certainly  appeal's  to 
 favour  the  second  view  above  stated  lather  than  the  first. 
 
 If  we  ado))t  the  first  view,  and  a.ssiune  that  the  naiTative  is 
 intended  to  relate  an  objective  fact,  it  affords  us  a  partial  ex- 
 hibition of  the  intercourse  of  Christ  himself  vdth  the  world  of 
 spirits.  It  could  not  have  been  intended  merely  for  the 
 Apostles  to  witness;  for,  duiing  its  progress,  they  were  ''heacj/ 
 with  slee.pl'  and,  therefore,  unfit  to  apprehend  it,  or  to  transmit 
 an  account  of  it  as  matter  of  fact.  We  cannot,  however,  deny 
 the  possibility  of  such  an  occun-ence,  and  of  some  unknown 
 object  for  it,  in  the  connexion  of  a  history  which  is  entirely 
 out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  events.  Once  admitting  the 
 event  as  such,  all  that  we  should  have  to  do  would  be,  to  con- 
 fess our  ignorance,  instead  of  losing  ourselves  in  arbitrary 
 hypotheses  and  speculative  dreams. 
 
 But,  on  the  other  hand,  by  following  the  indications  given 
 in  Luke,  we  may  arrive  at  the  follo^ving  view  of  the  narrative  : 
 Jesus  retired  in  the  evening  with  three  of  Ids  dearest  disciples, 
 apart,  into  a  mountain,'!  to  })ray  in  their  presence.  We  may 
 readily  imagine  that  his  prayer  referred  to  the  subjects  on 
 which  he  had  spoken  so  largely  with  the  disciples  on  the  pre- 
 ceding days,  viz.  the  coming  develo]»ment  of  his  kingdom,  and 
 the  conflicts  he  wa.s  to  enter  into  at  Jenisalem  in  its  behalf. 
 They  were  deeply  impressed  by  his  prayer;  his  countenance 
 beamed  Avith  radiance,  and  he  appeared  to  them  glorified  and 
 transfigured  with  celestial  light.  At  last,  worn  oxit  with 
 fatigue,  tliey  fell  asleep ;  and  the  impres.sions  of  the  Sa\'iour's 
 prayer,  and  of  their  conversation  with  him,  were  reflected  in  a 
 vision''  thus :  Beside  Him,  who  was  the  end  of  the  Law  and  the 
 Prophets,  appeared  Moses  and  Elias  in  celestial  splendour ;  for 
 the  glory  that  streamed  forth  from  Him  was  reflected  back 
 upon  the  Law,  and  the  Prophets  foretold  the  fate  that  awaited 
 him  at  Jeru.salem.  In  the  mean  time  they  awoke,  and,  in  a 
 haJf-waking  conclition,^  saw  and  heard  what  followed.  Viewed 
 in  this  light,  the  most  striking  feature  of  the  event  is  the  deep 
 impression  which  Christ's  words  had  made  upon  them,  and  the 
 conflict  between  the  new  \-iews  thus  received  and  their  old 
 ideas,  showing  it.self  thus  while  they  were  in  a  state  of  im- 
 consciousness. 
 
 1  We  do  not  know  whether  this  was  Mount  Jlcrmon,  or  the  mountain 
 from  which  Cesarea  i'hili])pi  took  the  name  Pancas.  The  old  tradition, 
 whicli  makes  Mount  Tabor  the  site  of  the  transfiguration,  cannot  be  relied 
 on.  '  Cf.  Matt.  xvii.  9.  •  Cf.  Luke  ix.  33,  last  clause. 
 
ELIAS  A  FORERUNNER  OF  MESSIAH.  300 
 
 Still  the  difficult}'-  remains,  that  the  i>heaomena,  if  simply 
 psychological,  should  have  appeared  to  all  the  thice  Apostles 
 precisely  in  the  same  form.  It  is,  perhaps,  not  improbable, 
 that. the  account  came  from  the  lips  of  Peter,  who  Ls  the  pro- 
 minent figure  in  the  narrative.* 
 
 The  disciples  did  not,  at  first,  dwell  ui:)on  this  phenomenon. 
 The  tui'n  of  Chiist'-s  conversations  with  them,  and  the  pressui'e 
 of  events,  withdrew  theii*  attention  from  it  until  after  the  re- 
 sxu'rection,  when,  as  the  several  traits  of  their  later  intercourse 
 with  Christ  were  brought  to  mind,  this  transfiguration  was 
 vividly  recalled,  and  assigned  to  its  proper  comiexion  in  the 
 epoch  which  preceded  and  prepared  the  way  for  the  sufferings 
 of  the  Saviom-." 
 
 §  186. — Elias  a  Forenmner  of  Messiah.     (Matt.  xvii.  10-13.) 
 The  relations  of  Elias  to  Christ  at  that  time  greatly  occu- 
 pied the  minds  of  the  disciples,  as  is  ol)^■ious  from  the  portions 
 of  one  of  their  conversations  with  him  that  are  preserved 
 to  us.'^ 
 
 As  we  have  seen  [Matt.  xvi.  21],  he  was  at  this  period  un- 
 folding to  his  disciples  his  approaching  appearance  at  Jerusa- 
 lem as  Messiah,  and  his  impending  fate.  They  presented  to 
 him  in  connexion  -with  this,  as  a  difficulty  in  their  minds,  the 
 prediction  taught  by  the  scribes,  and  the  very  one  which  they 
 arrayed  against  the  Messiahsliip  of  Jesus — that  Elias  mv^st  first 
 
 •  We  have  several  times  remarked  that  too  much  importance  is  not  to 
 be  attached  to  the  omission  of  any  event  by  John  that  is  recorded  by  the 
 other  Evangelists.  Still  his  silence  in  regard  to  the  transfiguration  is  re- 
 markable, seeing  that  he  himself  was  an  eye-witnes.s,  and  that  the  event  itself, 
 if  an  objective  reality,  was  calculated  to  display  the  grandeur  of  Christ  in 
 a  very  high  degree.  Two  reasons  may  Ije  supposed  for  this  :  (1.)  That  he 
 did  not  deem  himself  prepared,  from  the  circumstances  of  the  event,  to 
 give  a  distinct  representation  of  it  ;  or,  (2.)  That  he  did  not  view  it  as  an 
 objective  reality,  and,  therefore,  did  not  attach  so  much  importance  to  it. 
 D):  Schneckenhurger  (Beitragen  zur  Einleitung  in  das  Neue  Testaments 
 thinks  that  John  omitted  the  transfiguration  Ijecause  of  the  Gnostics  and 
 Docetics,  who  might  have  used  it  to  support  their  views  of  the  i^erson  of 
 Christ  ;  but  to  us  it  apjiears  that  this  would  have  been,  on  the  contrary,  a 
 reason  why  he  should  mention  it,  to  guard,  by  a  full  and  clear  statement, 
 against  misinterpretation  on  that  side. 
 
 "  Luke  ix.  36,  is  most  simple  :  they  hpt  it  close,  and  told  no  man  in 
 those  days  any  of  those  things  which  they  had  seen.  The  statement  in  Mat- 
 thew and  Mark,  that  Christ  forbade  it,  gives  a  reason  for  this  silence,  in 
 accordance  more  with  the  view  that  the  event  was  purely  objective. 
 
 '  We  think  we  are  justified  in  considering  Matt.  xvii.  10-13,  as  one  of 
 these  ;  the  ovv  with  which  the  question  commences  shows  that  it  has  a 
 connexion  elsewhere. 
 
310  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 appear,  to  introduce  the  Messiah  among  the  Theocratic  people. 
 He  answered,  tliat  the  scribes  -were  right  in  saying  that  Elias 
 must  first  come,  and  make  smooth  the  way  for  the  coming  of 
 Messiah ;  but  tliat  they  were  Avrong  ia  the  carnal  and  literal 
 sense  which  they  put  upon  the  saying,  as  if  Elios  were  to  ap- 
 pear in  person.  I^s,  he  told  them,  was  spuitually  represented 
 by  John  the  Baptist ;  he  "is  co)iie  already ,  and  tJtey  knew  him  not, 
 hut  have  done  tinto  him  whatsoever  they  listed."^  Likewise,  also, 
 shdU  the  Son  of  Man  suffer  of  tJism."  The  same  selfish  spirit, 
 the  same  adherence  to  the  letter,  which  hindered  them  from 
 seeing  Elias  in  John,  and  induced  them  to  get  rid  of  so  trouble- 
 some a  witness,  would  prevent  them  from  recognizing  Messiah 
 in  the  Son  of  Man,  and  lead  them  to  treat  him  as  they  had 
 done  the  Baptist. 
 
 §  187. — Christ  cures  a  Demoniacal  ToutJi  after  the  Disciples  had  attempted 
 it  in  vain.  (Mark  ix.  14  ;  Matt.  xvii.  14  ;  Luke  ix.  37.) — He  reproves 
 the  Unbelieving  Midtitiode. 
 
 On  descending  from  the  mountain  with  Peter,  James,  and 
 John,  Christ  found  the  rest  of  the  disciples  surromided  by  a 
 multitude  of  persons,  some  well,  and  others  ill  disposed.  A 
 man  in  great  distress  on  account  of  a  deeply-afflicted  son"  had 
 gone  thither,  attracted  by  the  fame  of  Christ's  agency  in  heal- 
 ing similar  cases.  The  youth  appeal's  to  have  been  subject  to 
 epileptic  fits,  with  a  state  of  imbecility  or  melancholy,  in  which 
 last  condition  he  was  incapable  of  utterance.  He  frequently 
 attempted  to  Vill  himself  dui-ing  these  attacks,  by  throwing 
 himself  into  the  fire  or  into  the  water.  The  unhappy  father 
 had  first  met  the  disciples  who  remained  at  the  foot  of  the 
 mountain,  and  these  last  attempted  to  make  use,  in  this  case, 
 of  the  powers  of  healing  conveyed  to  them  by  Chiist.  But  the 
 resiilt  satisfied  them  that  they  were  yet  far  from  being  able  to 
 act  as  organs  for  his  Divine  powers.  They  could  not  cure  the 
 demoniac ;  and  some  unfriendly  scribes  who  were  present  took 
 advantage  of  the  failure,  and  of  the  excitement  which  it  caused 
 among  the  people,  to  question  the  disciples;  probably  disputing 
 the  miracles  and  the  calling  of  their  Master.? 
 
 *  The.«e  words  prove  that  Christ  attributed  John's  &te  to  the  machina- 
 tions of  the  Pharisees. 
 
 *  Nothing  could  be  a  stronger  proof  of  historical  veracity  than  the  tliree 
 separate  but  agreeing  accounts  of  this  event,  all  from  different  sources. 
 Mark's  narrative  is  obviously  due  to  an  eye-witness  ;  it  is  marked  by 
 simplicity  and  naturalness,  without  a  trace  of  the  exaggeration  which 
 Htrauss  would  see  in  it. 
 
 y  Tlie  presence  of  the  scribes  would  fix  the  site  rather  at  some  mountain 
 of  Galilee  tl)an  at  Mount  Hermon  or  Paneas. 
 
CURE  OF  A  DEMOXIAC.  311 
 
 III  the  mean  time  Christ  suddenly  appeai'ed  amid  the  throng, 
 to  their  great  surprise.'-  Part  of  the  multitude  were  full  of 
 liope  that  He  would  do  what  his  disciples  had  faUed  to  accom- 
 plish; others,  doubtless,  as  anxiously  hoped  that  his  efforts 
 would  be  as  impotent  as  theirs.  In  this,  as  iu  other  cases,  the 
 Saviour  combined  earnest  reproof  with  condescending  love. 
 He  reproved  them  because  his  long  labours  had  not  yet  satis- 
 fied them;  because  they  still  felt  no  higher  than  coi-poreal 
 wants ;  because  their  unbelief  still  demanded  sensible  miracles. 
 '■'■  0  faithless  generation!  how  long  shall  I  he  with  you  and  suffer 
 you."^ 
 
 The  demoniac  was  brought  in;  and,  as  usual  in  such  cases, 
 the  Divine  manifestation  appears  to  have  produced  a  crisis, 
 attraction  and  repulsion.  His  conviilsions  came  on  with  new 
 power.  To  prepare  the  mind  of  the  father,  Christ  listened 
 patiently  to  his  histoiy  of  the  disease,  which  he  closed,  as  if 
 oppressed  by  the  sight  of  liis  suffei'ing  son,  with  the  prayer, 
 "Bui  iftJiOU  canst  do  anything,  have  compassion  0)i  us  arid  Jidp 
 2<s."  Fervent  as  the  prayer  was,  the  words,  '^  If  thou  canst  do 
 anything"  implying  a  distant  doubt,  led  Chiist  to  reprove  him 
 gently,  and  encourage  him  to  believe,  not  by  saying,  "Doubt 
 not;  I  can  do  all  things"  but  by  pointing  out  to  him  the  defect 
 loithin  himself:  "  Can  /  do  an}'thing  ?  Know  that,  if  tJiou  canst 
 believe,  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth"  (thou  thyself 
 canst  do  all  things,  if  thou  only  believest ;  faith  can  do  all).^ 
 The  gentle  reproof  had  its  full  effect ;  the  father,  full  of  feeling, 
 cried  out  in  tears,  "  Yes,  Lord,  I  believe  (yet  I  feel  as  yet  that  I 
 do  not  believe  sxifficiently) ;  help  tJiou  my  unbelief."  Clu-ist  then 
 spoke  in  tones  of  confident  command;  and  the  demoniac  suf- 
 fered a  new  and  intense  paroxysm,  which  exhausted  all  his 
 
 ^  'E?£0ajuf  )j0?7,  Mark  ix.  15,  appears  entirely  natural ;  anything  but 
 exagc/erated,  as  Strauss  will  have  it. 
 
 "  It  by  no  means  follows  that  Christ's  exclamation  refers  to  the  disciples  : 
 much  more  probably  to  all  that  had  preceded  ;  the  spirit  in  which  his  aid 
 had  been  sought,  and  his  miraculous  power  doubted.  The  word  ytvia  is 
 too  general  for  the  Apostles ;  nor  would  the  Lord,  who  generally  bore  v/ith 
 their  weaknesses  so  benignantly,  have  so  severely  reproved  them  in  this 
 case.     Nor  would  they,  in  that  case,  have  put  the  question  in  ver.  28. 
 
 •>  I  give  a  free  translation  of  that  very  difficult  passage,  Mark  ix.  23, 
 such  as  the  connexion  appears  to  me  to  demand.  Et  Svvaaat,  in  ver.  23, 
 I  think,  refers  to  the  words  spoken  by  the  man,  v.  22:  t6=" thai" 
 which  had  been  said  :  iriUTtvffai  is  wanting  in  Cod.  Vatican,  according  to 
 Bentley's  collation,  and  in  Cod.  Ephraem.  Rescript,  (see  Tischendvrfs 
 reprint) ;  and  I  think  it  is  a  gloss.  Knatchbull  considers  it  as  middle,  but 
 without  groxmd. 
 
312  JOURN'EV  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 strength.      He  lay  like  a  corpse;  ^^ hut  Jesus  took  him  by  t/te 
 Jiaiid  and  lifted  him  up,  and  he  arose." 
 
 §  188. — Christ  tcIUtke  Disciples  the  Can^e  of  their  Failure. — The  Power  of 
 Faith. — Prayer  and  Fasting.     (Matt.  xvii.  20,  21.) 
 
 After  tliis  experieuce,  so  important  in  v-iew  of  the  coming 
 independent  laboiu-s  of  the  clLsciples,  they  asked  of  Christ, 
 "  TF7i?/  could  not  we  cast  him  out .?"  and  thns  gave  him  occasion 
 to  point  ont  to  them  a  twofold  ground  in  their  own  selves,  y\z. 
 (1)  a  want  of  perfectly  confiding  faith,  and  (2)  a  want  of  that 
 complete  devotion  to  God  and  renunciation  of  the  world  which 
 is  implied  in  prayer  und  fastim/.  The  former  presupposes  the 
 latter,  and  the  latter  reacts  upon  the  former.  "Because  of  your 
 unbelief;'^  for  verily  I  say  uuto  you,  If  ye  have  faith  as  a  grain 
 of  mustard  seed,^  ye  shall  say  unto  this  mountain.  Remove  Jience 
 to  yonder  place,  ami  it  shcdl  remove,'^  and  nothing  sluiU  he  impos- 
 sible tonto  yoi'J  And  then  he  adds  (prol^ahly  after  some  inter- 
 mediate sentences  not  reporfed  in  this  brief  but  sub.stantial 
 account) :  '•  Such  a  power  of  the  Evil  Spirit  as  is  in  tins  form 
 of  demoniacal  disease  can  only  be  ovei'come  by  prayer  and 
 fasting."  That  is,  by  that  ardent  prayers  which  is  offered  in 
 humiliation  before  Go]),  and  abstraction  from  the  world,  in 
 still  coUectedness  of  soul,  undisturbed  by  corporeal  feeUngs. 
 Doubtless,  by  this  whole  statement,  Chiist  intended  to  satisfy 
 the  disciples  that  they  were  not  spiritually  prepared  fuUy  to 
 discharge  the  duties  of  their  ministry.'' 
 
 •^  /.  e.  want  of  lively  confidence  in  the  j^romi.ses  they  had  received  of 
 Divine  Power,  through  Christ,  to  work  ruiracles,  and  in  their  Divine 
 calling  and  communion  with  GoD  through  Christ ;  in  general,  a  want  of 
 religious  conviction  and  confidence,  as  practically  di.splayed  in  .subduing 
 all  doubts  and  difficulties  ;  e.  g.  such  as  Paul's. 
 
 ■^  Tlie  same  figure  as  in  the  parables  of  the  kingdom  of  GOD,  probably 
 intended  to  illustrate  the  growth  of  faith,  once  rooted  in  the  heart,  by  the 
 power  of  God  that  dwells  in  it,  like  the  growth  of  the  mighty  tree  froiu 
 the  diminutive  seed-corn. 
 
 •  In  Oriental  manner,  Christ  takes  a  ( oncrete  figure  from  the  visible 
 ci-eation  before  him,  to  set  forth  the  general  thought :  "You  will  Ix!  able 
 to  remove  all  difficulties  ;  apparent  impos-sibilities  will  liecome  pos.sible." 
 
 '  Tlie  right  limitation  of  tliis  (not  to  extend  it  to  an  indefinite  generality  V 
 lies  in  its  reference,  in  the  context,  to  men  u-orhing  as  organs  of  tlce  iSjiirilof 
 (rod  ;  it  excludes,  therefore,  all  self-will,  refusing  to  submit  to  the  Divine 
 order,  which  is,  indeed,  antagonistic  to  faith  itself. 
 
 s  The  Jews  and  early  Christians,  in  tinies  of  .special  prayer,  retire<l  from 
 social  intercourse  and  bodily  enjoyments,  restraining  the  Iwdily  api>etites ; 
 and  the  mention  oijiraycr  and  fasting  togtether  implies  this  state  of  entire 
 coUectedness  and  devotion.  , 
 
 ^  Tliere  are  some  discrepancies  in  the  (EN-angelists  as  to  the  collocation 
 
RETURN  TO  CAPERNAUM.  313 
 
 §  189. — Return  to  Capernaum. — Dispute  among  the  Disciples  fw  Precedence. 
 — The  Child  a  Pattern. — Acting  in  the  Name  of  Christ.  (Luke  ix.  46  ; 
 Mark  ix.  33  ;  Matt,  xviii.) 
 
 We  have  seen  tliat  on  a  certain  occasion'  Christ  replied  to 
 those  who  asked  "  why  his  disciples  did  not  fast,"  &c.,  that  "  the 
 time  had  not  yet  come."  But  a  new  epoch  was  now  approach- 
 ing; and  he  liimself  gave  his  disciples  another  mle,  and  taught 
 them  what  they  lacked  to  fit  them,  by  fiu'ther  abstraction  from 
 the  world  and  earnest  collectedness  of  heait,  for  their  high 
 calling. 
 
 Although  Clu'ist  had  du-ectly  discountenanced,  in  liis  conver- 
 sations after  the  return  of  the  Apostles  from  their  tiial  mission, 
 the  sensuous  expectations  wliich  they  entertained  from  his 
 Messiahship,  still  the  ideas,  on  which  theii*  hopes  were  founded 
 were  too  deeply  rooted  in  their  hearts  and  minds  to  1>e  readilj'^ 
 eradicated.  With  these  was  connected,  partly  as  cause  and 
 partly  as  effect,  the  self-seeking  which  tinged  their  relations  to 
 the  kingdom  of  God.  This  same  feeUng  was  manifest  in  then- 
 conversation  on  the  way  back  to  Capernaum  from  their  north- 
 
 of  tlie  pa.ssage.s  here  referred  to.  The  two  verses  in  Matt.  (xvii.  20,  21\ 
 harmonize  well  with  each  other  and  with  the  connexion.  But  in  Mark 
 xi.  23,  the  saying  of  Christ  in  regard  to  the  'power  of  faith  is  given  in  a 
 connexion  not  homogeneous  to  it,  especially  the  withering  of  the  fig-tree, 
 which  was  not  adapted  to  illustrate  the  2')0sitive  efficiency  of  faith.  Iii 
 Luke  xvii.  6,  a  different  figure  is  used,  viz.  the  uprooting  of  a  sycamore  ; 
 and  this  pas.sage  was  probably  uttered  iu  a  different  locality  ;  as  it  is  most 
 likely  that  the  Saviour,  in  view  of  his  approaching  separation  from  the 
 disciples,  took  many  occasions,  and  employed  various  figures,  to  encourage 
 and  strengthen  their  believing  confidence. 
 
 A  more  striking  difference  is,  that  in  Mark's  account  of  Christ's  reply  to 
 the  question  of  the  disciples  (ix.  28,  29),  the  first  sentence  (the  power  of 
 faith)  is  left  out,  and  the  second  only  (prayer  and  fasting)  given.  As  this 
 last  is  given  by  both  Matthew  and  Mark,  it  is  more  certain  that  it  was 
 spoken  in  that  connexion.  But  then,  again,  Mark  ix.  23,  contaiiis  a 
 statement  of  the  power  of  faith,  addrassed,  not  to  the  disciples,  but  to  the 
 father  of  the  demoniac  ;  in  so  natural  a  connexion,  too,  that  it  would  l)e 
 impossible  to  deny  the  aptness  of  the  collocation  ;  but  in  Matthew  this  is 
 entirely  wanting.  This  last  omission,  and  the  mistaken  interjiretation  put 
 upon  yeffd  airiaroq  (Matt.  xvii.  17),  may  have  given  occasion  for  referring 
 fia  Tt)v  cnriarinv  (v.  20)  to  that  phrase  in  v.  17,  and  for  here  transferring 
 the  passage  on  the  power  of  faith  to  this  place  from  some  other.  Yet  it  i« 
 also  possible  that  Christ  uttered  both  expressions  (viz.  Mark  ix.  23,  and 
 Matt.  xvii.  20),  and  that  their  similarity  of  thought  induced  each  writer  to 
 retain  but  one.  In  confirmation  of  this.  Luke  does  not  mention  (xvii.  5,  6) 
 the  historical  connexion  in  which  the  thought  was  uttered  ;  the  disciples 
 would  not  have  asked,  "  Lord,  incrcj.ie  our  faith,"  but  for  an  experience  of 
 their  want  of  it  ;  and  precisely  such  an  experience  is  given  in  the  accounts 
 of  Matthew  and  Mark.  '  Cf.  p.  218. 
 
314  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 em  toiu'j  they  disputed  ^  among  theihselves  on  the  journey 
 about  their  relative  activity  in  the  service  of  theii*  Master,  and 
 who  among  them  should  hold  the  first  place  in  the  kingdom  of 
 GoD.J 
 
 After  their  amval  at  Capernaum,  Christ  asked  them  the 
 subject  on  which  they  had  disputed  by  the  way,  intending  that 
 the  very  shame  of  answering  his  question  might  make  them 
 conscioiis  how  unworthy  of  disciples  such  a  dispute  had  been. 
 This  end  beiug  answered,  he  did  not  directly  reprove  them 
 further;  but  in  a  few  words,  made  impressive  by  a  \'ivid  illus- 
 tration, he  set  before  them  the  worthlessness  of  their  conten- 
 tion, and  its  utter  antagonism  to  the  spirit  which  must  rule  in 
 the  kingdom  of  God.  Taking  a  little  child,  he  placed  him  in 
 their  midst,  and  said,  ""Let  this  child,  in  its  unassuming  inge- 
 nuousness, be  your  model ;  he  among  you  that  is  most  child-like 
 and  unassuming,  that  thinks  least  of  himself  and  his  own 
 worth,  he  shall  be  greatest  (shall  be  of  most  importance  to  the 
 kingdom  of  God)."'^  Then,  embracing  the  child,  he  added, 
 '•'  Whosoever  shall  receive  one  such  little  child  in  my  name, 
 receiveth  me;  and  whosoever  receiveth  me,  receiveth  liim  that 
 sent  me."' 
 
 The  tiTith  herein  expressed,  though  different  from  the  other, 
 
 J  This  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  a  later  dispute  of  the  same  character ; 
 in  the  instance  before  us,  the  question  referred  to  the  present,  not  to  the 
 futwre,  who  is  the  greatest  in  his  personal  qualities  and  performances  ? 
 Christ's  reply  was  directed  to  this  question  ;  not,  as  in  the  subsequent  case 
 (Luke  xxii.  24,  &c.),  to  one  concerning  precedence  in  the  Messianic  king- 
 dom. Matthew's  accovmt,  therefore  (xviii.  i.),  seems  to  be  less  original 
 than  those  of  Lvike  ix.  46,  Mark  ix.  33.  The  former  is  less  homogeneous  ; 
 and,  besides,  in  it  the  disciples  propose  the  question  ;  in  the  others  Christ 
 anticipates  them,  which  seems  the  more  likely,  as  they  might  readily  feel 
 that  their  dispute  was  foreign  to  Christ's  spirit,  and,  therefore,  be  ashamed 
 to  put  the  question.  It  is  also  easier  to  explain  the  origin  of  Matthew's 
 statement  from  this,  as  the  original  form,  than  that  of  the  latter  from  the 
 former.  It  must  always  be  a  debatable  question,  so  far  as  Luke  ix.  46,  is 
 concerned,  whether  the  ^disciples  only  thought  this,  or  expressed  their 
 thouglits  to  each  other. 
 
 ''  Luke's  report  of  the  sayings  of  Christ  upon  this  occasion,  although 
 more  simple  and  homogeneous  than  those  of  Matthew  and  Mark,  does  not 
 seem  to  retain  the  order  of  the  two  expressions  so  well.  This  is  evident, 
 both  from  the  yi'ip  in  the  last  clause  of  v.  48,  and  from  John's  question  in 
 V.  49,  which  was  evidently  occasioned  by  the  words  immediately  before 
 spoken  by  Christ,  but  not  by  those  in  the  last  clause  referred  to. 
 
 '  In  Matt.  X.  42,  we  find  another  8a3ring  to  the  same  effect  as  that 
 which  has  been  placed  here  in  its  connexion.  "  Even  a  drink  of  water 
 given  to  the  most  insignificant  person  as  a  disciple  of  Christ,  and  in  Jiis 
 name,  will  not  lose  its  reward."  It  is  the  disposition  to  act  in  Christ's 
 name  which  gives  value  to  tlje  most  unimportant  act.  The  form  in  which 
 the  disposition  shall  reveal  itself  is  conditioned  by  circumstances  which  are 
 
Christ's  two  sayings.  315 
 
 is  yet  akin  to  it ;  aud  both  rebuke  the  strife  for  precedence, 
 the  disposition  to  dwell  upon  one's  own  merits,  and  set  a  false 
 value  upon  actions  as  great  or  small.  It  is  not  merely  wliat  a 
 man  does  that  makes  his  action  worthy,  but  the  spirit  in  which 
 he  does  it.  The  deed  ia  itself  may  be  great  or  small ;  its  worth 
 depends  upon  its  being  done  in  the  name  of  Christ,  and  for  his 
 sake.  And  this  spirit  is  pleasing  to  God,  for  our  actions  can 
 only  be  referred  to  Him  by  means  of  our  relation  to  Christ. 
 
 The  principle  thus  announced  by  Christ  struck  at  the  root 
 of  the  contention  among  the  disciples.  Their  false  emulation 
 could  have  no  place,  if  their  actions,  whether  great  or  small, 
 were  alike  in  value,  if  alike  done  in  the  name  of  Christ ;  and 
 to  magnify  themselves,  or  their  claims,  would  have  been  absurd 
 in  view  of  such  a  rule  of  action. 
 
 §190. — Christ's  Two  Sayings :  "  He  thai  is  riot  against  you  is  for  you  ;"  wad, 
 '    "He  that  is  not  for  me  is  against  me."     (Mark  ix.  40.) 
 
 It  is  hardly  probable  that  the  disciples  at  once  understood 
 the  profound  meaning  of  Christ's  words  on  the  occasion  re- 
 ferred to  in  the  preceding  section ;  and  thus  it  was  that  John 
 (Mark  ix.  38)  brought  forward  an  instance  which  appeared  to 
 him  inconsistent  with  the  rule  just  laid  down."^ 
 
 It  appears  that  the  miracles  of  Chi'ist,  aud  those  wrought  by 
 the  Apostles  by  calling  upon  his  name,  had  induced  others,  not 
 belonging  to  the  immediate  circle  of  the  disciples,  to  call  upon 
 the  name  of  Jesus  for  the  heaUng  of  demoniacs. 'i  The  disciples, 
 displeased  that  one  out  of  then*  circle,  and  unauthorized  by 
 Christ,  should  try  in  this  way  to  make  himself  equal  with 
 them,  had  forbidden  him  to  do  so.  Even  here,  selfish  motives 
 appear  to  have  intruded ;  only  those  who  belonged  to  theni 
 were  to  be  allowed  to  make  use  of  Christ's  name.  In  view  of 
 what  Christ  now  said,  however,  of  the  value  of  even  the 
 smallest  actions,  if  done  in  His  name,  John  seems  to  have 
 thought  within  himself:  "If  everything  that  is  done  in  His 
 name  be  so  worthy,  have  we  not  done  wrong  ia  foAidding  him 
 who  was  thus  working  in  his  name?" 
 
 not  vmder  the  control  of  man  :  but  the  disposition  itself,  which  is  stamped 
 as  Christian  from  its  reference  to  the  name  of  Christ,  is  independently 
 rooted  in  the  heart. 
 
 "•  Straitss  objects  to  Schleiermachers  view  (which  accords  in  substance 
 with  mine),  that  "it  presupposes  a  readiness  of  thought  in  the  disciples  of 
 ■which  they  were  by  no  nicans  pos,iessed."  It  is  just  the  reverse  ;  it  seems  to 
 have  been  precisely  the  want  of  clear  apprehension  at  the  time  which  led 
 John,  without  further  thought  upon  tlie  sense  and  bearing  of  Christ's 
 remarks,  to  seize  upon  the  wofds,  "In  my  name." 
 
 »  As  (though  with  another  motive)  in  Acts  xix,  13. 
 
316  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 It  Ls  true,  Clmst's  words  referred  to  the  disposition  of  tlie 
 heart,  and  a  mere  external  calling  upon  liis  name  would  not 
 necessarily  involve  all  that  he  meant.  And  had  the  disciples 
 fidly  understood  his  meaning,  they  would  probably  not  liAve 
 alluded  to  such  an  instance.  But  the  instance  itself  may  have 
 been  alUed  to  that  which  has  the  aim  of  Christ's  words ;  a  man 
 who  thought  so  highly  of  Christ's  name  as  to  believe  that  by 
 using  it  he  could  do  such  gi'eat  works,  even  though  he  enjoyed 
 no  intimate  relations  with  the  Saviour,  might  have  been  on  the 
 way  to  liigher  attainments,  and,  by  obtaining  higher  knowledge 
 and  a  purer  faith,  might  have  reached  the  stand-point  desig- 
 nated by  Christ;  and  so  his  outward  calling  upon  the  name 
 might  have  led  the  way  to  a  true  acting  in  that  name.  He, 
 therefore,  reproved  them ;  they  shoidd  let  this  stand-point  pass 
 as  a  preparatory  one ;  "forbid  him  not  \^for  there  is  no  iimh 
 which  can  do  a  viiracle  hi  my  name  which  can  lightly  speak  evil 
 of  me\ :  for  lie  tlmt  is  iiot  against  you  is  far  yov.'^  The  expla- 
 nation (in  bi"ackets)  is  given  by  Mark,  but  not  by  Luke ;  it 
 aids  the  interpretation  of  the  latter  clause,  but  does  not  ex- 
 haust its  meaning. 
 
 These  woxxls  of  ChrLst  allow  us  to  suppose  that  the  man  in 
 question,  perhap.5,  only  used  HLs  name  by  way  of  conjuration, 
 and  was  far  from  him  in  heart ;  but  they  imply,  also,  that  the 
 very  fact  of  his  giving  credit  to  the  Name  for  so  great  power 
 might  lead  liim  to  inquire  who  and  what  Chi'ist  was,  and  to 
 attach  himself  to  him.  His  procedure,  also,  might  call  the 
 attention  of  others  to  Christ's  power,  and  bring  them  nearer 
 to  his  commimion.  Jesus  here  taught  the  disciples  (and  the 
 lesson  was  a  most  weighty  one  for  then-  coming  laboui"s)  that 
 they  were  not  to  requiie  a  perfect  faith  and  an  immediate  at- 
 tachment to  their  communion  from  nien  at  once;  that  they  were 
 to  recognize  preparatory  and  intermediate  stages  ;  to  di'ive 
 back  no  one  whose  foce  was  tiu-ned  in  the  right  dii-ection;  to 
 hinder  none  who  might  \vish  to  confess  or  glorify  Christ  among 
 men  in  any  Avay;  in  a  word,  to  oppose  no  one  who,  instead  of 
 offering  himself,  in  tliis  sense,  to  them,  sought  the  same  end. 
 and  thus  advanced  the  object  of  their  ministry,  even  though 
 out  of  theii"  own  communion,  and  not  seeking  to  glorify  Christ 
 })recLsely  in  the  same  sense  and  by  t  le  sjime  methods  as  them- 
 selves. 
 
 Comparing  this  saying  of  Christ  with  the  other  and  opposite 
 one,  to  wliich  we  have  before  referred,"  viz.  "i/e  thoA  is  not  for 
 °  Cf.  p.  2C1. 
 
THE  STATER  IN  THE  FISH.  317 
 
 97ie  is  against  me,''  we  must,  in  order  to  harmonize  them,  seek 
 the  precise  objects  which  He  hatl  in  view  in  the  two  cases.  In 
 the  latter,  an  action  was  treated  of  wluch  seemed  to  agree  per- 
 fectly with  Christ  in  its  results — the  expulsion  of  evil  si)irits — 
 but  yet  not  done  in  the  Spiiit  of  Christ  at  all,  but  just  the 
 opposite ;  apparently  done  Jbr  the  kingdom  of  God,  but,  in  fact, 
 against  it;  outwardly  like  Christ's  acts,  but  inwardly  and 
 essentially  antagonistic  to  them.  In  the  former  there  was  an 
 act,  again,  agreeing  in  result,  and  also  in  the  mode,  viz.  by 
 calling  tipoa  the  name  of  Christ ;  not,  it  is  tiiie.  entu-el}'  in  the 
 right  way,  but  in  a  way  preparatoiy  to  the  right  one,  and 
 which  might  lead  to  it,  if  not  disturbed  by  an  impatient  zeal. 
 In  the  former,  the  outward  coincidences  concealed  an  inward 
 and  essential  opposition,  but  in  the  latter  an  inward  ajfinity, 
 which  might  possibly  be  ripened  into  full  communion. 
 
 The  common  featiu'e,  therefore,  of  these  two  sayings  is  this : 
 Everything  depends  upon  the  relation  in  which  the  oiitward 
 act  and  its  results  stand  to  the  spirit  and  the  heart  from  wliich 
 they  proceed. 
 
 §  191.— TAc  Stater  in  the  Fish.  (Matt.  xvii.  27.) 
 Christ's  previous  visit  to  Capernaum  probably  took  place  at 
 the  time  set  apai-t  for  collecting  the  Temple  tribute  of  half  an 
 ounce  of  silver,  i.  e.  the  month  Adar,  corresponding  nearly  to 
 our  March.  It  is  likely  that  the  great  commotion  which  we 
 have  before  desciibed  as  occm-ring  just  before  his  departiu-e 
 had  prevented  him  at  that  time  from  paying  it.  On  his  re- 
 tiUTi,  the  collectors  came  to  Peter,  who  was  regarded  as  the 
 spokesman  of  the  little  society,  and  asked  why  his  Master  did 
 not  pay  the  tribute.  Chiist  and  liis  disciples  were  known  to 
 ])erform  all  duties  arising  from  the  natural  relations  of  life 
 faithfully;  but  this  tribute  belonged  to  the  religious  constitu- 
 tion, and  implied  a  relation  of  dependence  upon  the  Theocracy ; 
 and,  as  it  became  constantly  more  e\-ident  that  he  clauned  to 
 be  the  Messiah,  they  pei-haps  doubted  whether  he  would  re- 
 cognize its  obligation.  Peter,  as  we  have  seen,  was  at  that 
 time  ftill  of  the  idea  of  Messiah,  wluch  he  saw  I'ealized  in  Jesus ; 
 and  he  might,  therefore,  natiu*ally  conclude  that  the  latter,  as 
 Head  of  the  Theocracy,  was  not  subject  to  the  tribute.  But, 
 on  the  other  hand,  he  had  just  heai'd  from  the  Ups  of  Jesus 
 that  his  kingdom  was  not  to  be  an  outward  one,  and  that  he 
 should  suffer  before  his  dominion  could  be  seen ;  and,  in  this 
 view,  he  might  be  subject  to  the  tax.  With  his  tisual  pi-ompt- 
 ness,   he  answered  the  question   in  the  affirmative,  withoiit 
 
318  JOURNEY  TO  NORTH  GALILEE. 
 
 knowing  where  the  tribute  was  to  come  fx*om;  for,  perhaps 
 because  as  they  had  just  returned  from  a  long  journey,  they 
 were  out  of  money,  p 
 
 Christ  decided  to  pay  the  tax,  and  showed  Peter  that  the 
 act  foiTUcd  part  of  the  self-abasement  to  which,  conscious  of  his 
 own  dignity,  he  submitted  himself  duiing  his  earthly  Life.  Ho 
 illustrated  this  by  a  comparison  drawn  from  luunan  relation,*^. 
 As  kings  do  not  tax  their  own  children,  so  the  Messiah,  thf 
 Son  of  God,  and  Theocratic  King,  for  whose  appearance  the 
 whole  Temple  discipline  was  but  prepai-atory,  was  not  bound 
 to  pay  this  purely  ecclesiastical  tax;  his  relations  to  the  Theo- 
 cracy were  against  it.  Had  the  Jews  known  him  for  what  he 
 was,  \\z.  the  Messiah,  they  would  not  have  asked  him  to  pay 
 it.i  But  since  they  did  not,  he  wished  to  afford  them  no  oc- 
 casion, even  from  their  own  stand-point,  to  accuse  him  as  :' 
 violator  of  the  law.  He  places  himself  on  a  footing  with  them, 
 as  to  the  duties  devolving  upon  subordinate  members  of  the 
 Theocracy.  Nor  did  he  work  a  miracle  to  prociu'e  the  tribute- 
 money,  but  directed  Peter  to  make  use  of  the  means  which  his 
 trade  supplied.  In  a  place  where  fishing  was  the  common 
 trade  of  the  people,  it  was  not  likely  that  the  first  fish  caught 
 would  be  worth  the  whole  sum  needed ;  but  an  unusual  bless- 
 ing of  Providence,  as  Christ  well  knew,  attended  the  effoi-t. 
 The  very  first  fish  caught  was  to  supply  the  means ;  a  stater, 
 which  it  had  swallowed,  was  found  within  it. 
 
 By  his  procedm'e  in  this  case,  Christ  taught  the  Apostles 
 that  they  Avere  not  to  claim  all  their  rights,  but  to  submit  in 
 all  cases  Avhere  regard  to  the  needs  of  othei-s  required  it ;  and, 
 further,  that  they  might  look  with  confidence  for  the  blessing 
 of  God  upon  the  means  employed  by  them  to  comply  with 
 .such  demands.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  tliis  lesson  was  given 
 to  Peter,  in  whose  name  a  course  of  conduct  precisely  opposed 
 to  that  which  it  conveyed  was  often  practised  in  after  ages. 
 
 P  This  account  suits  well  to  the  historical  connexion  in  which  it  occur  . 
 Matt.  x\-ii.  24  ;  but  then  we  cannot  take  the  month  ^  dar  strictly.  If  thi 
 last  cannot  be  allowed,  we  must  place  the  occurrence  immediately  after  the 
 feeding  of  the  r),000  ;  as  the  multitude  then  wished  to  proclaim  Jesus  as 
 Messiah,  the  collectors  might  well  doubt  of  his  paying  the  tax.  We  cannot 
 think,  with  Wiesdcr,  that  the  tax  was  due  to  the  Empire,  for  the  whole 
 import  of  the  narrative  turns  upon  its  being  a  Temple  tax,  and  not  a 
 political  one. 
 
 1  Dc  Wette's  remarks  on  the  duty  of  obedience  to  magistrates,  referring 
 to  Rom.  xiii.  6,  are  not  applicable  here  ;  the  relation  involved  in  this  case 
 was  the  Theocratic-political  relation,  which  was  to  be  abolished  by  Christ, 
 with  the  whole  form  of  that  Theocracy. 
 
PRECAUTIONS  AGAINST  THE  SANHEDRIM.  319 
 
 CHAPTER  XL 
 
 Christ's  journey  to  Jerusalem  to  attend  the  feast  op 
 
 tabernacles. 
 
 §  192. — His  Precautions  against  the  Persecutions  of  tlve  SamJiechnm. 
 (John  vii.) 
 
 For  nearly  eighteen  months  Christ  had  been  employed  in 
 scattering  the  seed  of  the  kingdom  of  God  in  Galilee,  and  in 
 training  the  Apostles  for  their  calling.  Duiing  all  this  time 
 he  had  kept  away  from  the  metropolis,  to  wliich  he  had  before 
 been  used  to  go  at  the  time  of  the  three  chief  feasts. 
 
 The  Feast  of  Tabernacles  occurred  during  the  month  of  Oc- 
 tober; and  he  determined  to  attend  it,  in  order  to  confirm  the 
 faith  of  such  as  had  received  Divine  impressions  from  his  for- 
 mer labours  in  Jerusalem,  and  to  avoid  the  imputation,  likely 
 otherwise  to  be  cast  on  him,  that  he  feared  to  give  pubUc  tes- 
 timony to  his  Divine  calling  in  presence  of  his  enemies  and  the 
 Sanhedrim.  It  was  his  rule  of  conduct  to  avoid,  by  prudent 
 choice  of  time  and  place,  all  such  dangers  as  were  not  neces- 
 sarily to  be  met  in  the  course  of  duty ;  he  determined,  there- 
 fore, to  appear  suddenly  in  the  city,  after  the  body  of  visitors 
 to  the  feast  had  arrived,  before  the  Sanhedrim  could  take 
 measures  to  seize  upon  his  person.'^ 
 
 The  minds  of  his  own  brothers  were  not  fully  made  up  as  to 
 his  character.^  When  they  were  about  to  set  out  for  the  feast, 
 they  could  not  understand  why  he  remained  behind.  They 
 expressed  their  surpiise  that  he  kept  his  ministry  so  concealed. 
 If  he  wrought  such  great  works*  (they  told  Mm),  he  should 
 not  confine  himself  to  such  a  corner  as  Galilee,  but  should 
 make  his  followers,  gathered  from  difierent  quarters  to  the 
 feast  at  Jerusalem,  witnesses  of  his  miracles,  and  accredit  him- 
 self as  Messiah  publicly,  before  the  assembled  nation.  Imbued 
 with  such  sentiments,  and  incapable  of  apprehending  the 
 reasons  of  Christ's  conduct,  they  did  not  deserve  his  confidence, 
 and  needed  to  be  made  conscious  that  they  did  not.  He  there- 
 fore only  told  them  that  his  relations  to  the  world  were  dif- 
 
 •■  John  vii.  8.  The  mention  of  this  circumstance  by  John  proves  his 
 veracity  as  an  eye-witness.  A  merely  traditional  or  invented  narrative 
 would  have  said  nothing  about  it,  as  tending  to  lower  the  estimate  of 
 Christ's  divinity  and  supernatural  power. 
 
 »  Cf.  p.  265.  * 
 
 '  Little  as  John  relates  of  Christ's  labours  in  Galilee,  he  implies  them  in 
 vii.  3,  4.  This  passage  obviously  alludes  to  a  chasm  filled  up  by  the  other 
 Evangelists. 
 
320  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 ferent  from  theii-s ;  that  his  movements  were  not  to  be  judged 
 by  theirs;  that  his  motives  must  be  unknowni  to  them,  as  they 
 were  engaged  in  no  struggle  with  the  world,  and  had  nothing 
 to  i'ear  at  Jeiiisalem.  He  did  not  say,  however,  but  that 
 there  tooidd  be,  sxibsequently,  a  proper  time  for  himself  to  go : 
 "  J/y  time  is  not  yet  coine  to  show  myself  publicly  at  Jerusalem ; 
 but  yoii  need  not  wait  to  choose  the  favoiu-able  moment,  for 
 your  time  is  always  ready;  you  have  nothing  to  fear;  the  ivorld 
 cannot  liate  you,  for  it  looks  upon  you  as  its  own ;  hut  me  it 
 Imteth,  because  I  testify  of  it  tliat  the  ivorks  thereof  are  evil.  Go 
 ye  up  unto  this  feast;  I  go  not  yet  up,  because  my  time  is  not  yet 
 fall  come." 
 
 He  afterward  set  out  unnoticed,  and  anived  at  Jemsalem 
 about  the  middle  of  the  eight-days'  feast.  Great  anxiety  for 
 his  arrival  had  been  felt,  and  the  most  opposite  opinions  had 
 been  expressed  concerning  him.  We  need  not  be  surprised  to 
 find  the  charge  of  Sabbath-breaking  still  fresh,  though  eighteen, 
 months  had  elapsed ;  for  this  was  always  the  favourite  starting- 
 point  of  the  Pharisees  in  their  accusations  against  him,  both  in 
 the  city  and  thi'ough  their  agents  in  Galilee. 
 
 §  193. — He  explains  the  Nature  of  his  Doctnne  as  Divine  Revelation. 
 (John  vii.  16-19.) 
 
 Anew  the  power  of  Christ's  words  over  the  hearts  of  the 
 people  displayed  itself  Even  those  who  were  prepos.sessed 
 against  him  had  to  wonder  that  one  who  had  not  been  taught 
 in  the  schools  of  the  scribes  could  tlius  expomid  the  Scriptures; 
 yet  they  could  not,  from  the  force  of  prejudice,  admit  that  his 
 knowledge  was  derived  from  any  higher  source.  Their  con- 
 clusion was  soon  made  up  that  nothing  could  be  ti'ue  that  had 
 not  been  learned  in  the  schools;  and  that  one  not  educated  in 
 them  had  no  right  to  set  up  for  a  teacher.  In  ^^ew  of  this, 
 Christ  said  publicly,  in  the  Temple,  "  Wonder  not  that  I,  all 
 uneducated  in  your  schools,  appear  to  teach  you;  my  teaching 
 is  not  mine,  but  his  that  sent  me;  not  invented  by  me  as  a  man, 
 but  revealed  by  God.  But  for  your  lack  of  the  riglit  loill,  yoii 
 might  be  con\'inced  of  tliis.^     Whoever  in  heay't  desires  to  do 
 
 "  John  \'ii.  17.  With  Scltotl  an<l  Likke,  I  deviate  from  the  oldexege-is 
 •which  refers  this  passage  to  the  testimony  of  inward  exj>erience,  the  te^li- 
 monitini  Spiritus  i^ancti.  Not  the  will  of  God,  a.s  revealed  b>i  Christ,  was 
 the  aim  of  discourse  here,  but  the  will  of  C4od,  as  far  as  the  Pharitecs 
 themselves  might  have  known  it ;  so  that,  "  to  do  the  will  of  CJod  "=  "  to 
 make  the  glory  of  CJod  the  object  of  one's  actions,"  as  opposed  to  "following 
 •one's  own  will,  and  seeking  one's  own  honour."  When  Christ  had  to  do 
 .  with  such  as  did  not  fully  believe,  but  were  on  the  way  to  faith,  he  could 
 
ATTEMPTS  OF  THE  PHARISEES.  321 
 
 tlie  "will  of  God,  ■will,  by  means  of  that  disposition,  be  able  to 
 decide  whether  my  teaching  is  Divine  or  human.  Such  a  one 
 may  see  that  no  human  self-^viU  is  mixed  up  "with  my  laboui-s, 
 but  that  in  them  all  I  seek  only  to  glorify  Him  that  sent  me. 
 But  (v.  19)  that  ye  lack  the  spirit  essential  to  tliis,  is  shown 
 by  your  deeds;  pretending  to  zeal  for  the  Mosaic  law,  and 
 using  that  pretence  to  persecute  one  who  seeks  only  to  honour 
 God,  you  care  not,  in  reaUty,  to  keep  that  law." 
 
 It  astonished  the  people  to  find  that  Jesus  could  testify  thus 
 openly  against  his  opponents,  and  yet  no  hand  be  laid  upon 
 him ;  and  they  asked,  "  Can  it  be  possible  that  the  members  of 
 the  Sanhedrim  know  this  man  to  be  the  Messiah?"  (v.  26). 
 But  they  continued,  still  held  in  the  }jrejudice  and  bondage  of 
 sense,  "  How  can  it  be  so,  when  we  know  him  to  be  the  son 
 of  the  Nazerene  carpenter?  while  the  Messiah  is  to  reveal 
 himself  suddenly  in  all  his  glory,  so  that  all  must  acknowledge 
 him  (v.  27).  To  expose  the  vanity  of  these  expressions,  Christ 
 said,  "  It  is  true,  ye  both  know  me,  and  ye  know  whence  I  am; 
 and  yet  ye  know  not;  for  ye  know  not  the  heavenly  Father 
 who  hath  sent  me,  and  therefore  ye  cannot  know  me."  Thus 
 does  he  ever  I'eturn  to  the  principle  that  "  only  those  who 
 know  God,  and  belong  to  him  in  heart  {i.  e.  who  really  endea- 
 vour to  do  his  will),  can  be  in  a  condition  to  recognize  the  Son 
 of  God  in  his  self-manifestation,  and  to  acknowledge  that  he  is 
 from  heaven.  Those  who  are  estranged  from  God  and  slaves 
 to  sense,  think  they  know  him,  but  in  fact  do  not." 
 
 §  194. — The  Pharisees  attempt  to  arrest  Christ. — He  warns  than  that  they 
 should  seek  Him,  but  should  not  find  Him.     (John  vii.  SO,  seq.) 
 
 The  increasing  influence  of  Chi-ist's  words  and  works  natu- 
 i*ally  excited  the  fears  and  jealousy  of  the  heads  of  the  Phari- 
 saical party;  their  domination  was  in  danger  from  a  spiritual 
 power  directly  opposed  to  theii-  spii-it  and  statutes.    He  had  so 
 
 say,  "Try  only  to  follow  the  drawing  within  you,  to  submit  to  my  teaching 
 and  practise  it,  and  all  your  doubts  will  be  practically  solved.  Your  hearts 
 will  feel  the  Divine  power  of  my  teaching,  and  this  experience  will  remove 
 the  difficulties  from  which  you  cannot  free  yourselves."  But  the  persons 
 to  whom  he  was  speaking  in  this  instance  were  far  removed  from  faith  ; 
 and  to  such  he  had  to  point  out  objective  tests  by  which  they  might  judge 
 of  the  Divinity  of  his  mission;  but,  as  they  were  destitute  of  the  dispo- 
 sitions requisite  to  apply  these  tests  properlv,  he  had  to  show  them  dis- 
 tinctly that  they  lacked  the  v:iU  to  be  convinced,  the  earnest  of  which  is 
 obedience  to  the  will  of  God.  He  was  ju^tified  in  making  this  demand  for 
 a  proper  disposition  universal,  as  without  it  all  argument  and  proof  must 
 be  in  vain. 
 
322  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEJiL 
 
 often,  botli  in  Jerusalem  and  Galilee,  overcome  their  machina- 
 tions by  the  power  of  ti-uth,  and  frustrated  their  charges  of 
 heresy  by  his  words  and  works,  that  no  coui'se  was  left  but  to 
 ■withdraw  him  from  his  sphere  of  labour  by  actual  force. 
 
 They  sought,  therefore,  to  lay  hold  of  his  person ;  but  Christ, 
 perceiving  their  plans,  declared  in  words  of  prophetic  warning, 
 "  Yet  a  little  while  I  mn  with  you,  and  then  will  I  go  back  unto 
 him  that  sent  me.  Ye  shall  seek  me,  and  sJudl  tiotjind  me;  and 
 xoliere  I  am,  thitlier  ye  cannot  come."  He  thus  warned  the  Jews, 
 that  if  they  did  not  use  the  time  that  was  rapidly  passing,  they 
 woidd  not  be  able  to  escape  the  distress  that  was  to  come  upon 
 them  by  their  own  fault.  In  that  time  of  trouble  they  would 
 long  the  more  earnestly  for  the  DeUverer  and  the  ]\Iessiah — 
 whom  they  might  have  known — but  in  vain;  they  could  then 
 find  no  Redeemer,  nor  obtain  the  fellowship  of  Him  who  would 
 have  been  raised  into  heaven.  The  Jews  maliciously  inter- 
 pi'eted  this  dark  saying  to  mean  that  he  intended  to  go  forth 
 as  a  teacher  of  the  heathen  (v.  35) ;  a  point  worthy  of  note, 
 from  the  inference  it  allows,  that  their  anxiety  to  make  him  a 
 heretic  was  founded  upon  a  dawning  presentiment  that  his 
 teaching  was  destined  to  be  a  universal  one. 
 
 §  195. — Chnst  a  Spring  of  Living  Water,  and  the  Light  of  the  World. 
 (John  vii.  38,  seq.) — This  Validity  of  His  Testimony  of  Himself.  (John 
 viii.  13,  seq.) — He  foretels  the  subsequent  Relations  of  the  Jews  to  Him. 
 (John  viii.  21.) 
 
 It  was  the  last  chief  feast  of  the  last  year  of  Christ's  labours 
 upon  earth;  and  he  could  not  let  it  pass  without,  at  its  con- 
 clusion, giving  a  special  message  to  the  multitudes  who  were 
 soon  to  be  scattered  thi'ough  the  countiy,  and  many  of  whom 
 would  never  see  him  more.  Under  various  figm-es  he  repre- 
 sented himself  to  them  as  the  source  of  true  riches  and  unfail- 
 ing contentment,  and  thus  stimulated  their  longing  for  him. 
 
 Thus  did  he  cry  out  to  the  congregation  in  the  Temple  (pro- 
 bably alluding  to  the  ceremony  in  which  the  priests,  in  great 
 pomp,  brought  water  from  the  spring  of  Siloa  to  the  altar), 
 "  Here  is  the  true  spring  of  hving  water;  if  any  man  thirst,  let 
 him  come  unto  me  and  drink.  Whosoever  believcth  on  me, 
 his  inwaj-d  life  shall  become  a  well-spring,  whence  shall  flow 
 streams  of  hving  water."'     And  in  another  figure  (vui.  12)  he 
 
 ^  These  words  were  not  uttered  by  Christ  as  a  prediction,  but  as  a  decla- 
 ration of  the  power  of  faith  in  developing  the  Divine  life.  I5ut  as  it  was 
 not  fully  realized  until  thu  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  stream  of 
 living   water   which  flows  witliout  ceasing   through   the  communion  of 
 
THE  WITNESS  OF  CHRIST.  323 
 
 declared  that  he  was  to  be  in  the  spiritual  world  what  the  sun 
 is  in  the  material.  "/  am  tlte  light  of  the.  world;  he,  thatfoUow- 
 eth  me  sludl  not  walk  in  darkness,  hut  shcdl  luxve  (lie  Ivjht  which 
 beams  forth  from  life  and  leads  to  life.""' 
 
 The  Pharisees  objected  (viii.  13)  that  Christ's  testimony  was 
 worthless,  becaiLse  it  was  given  of  himself.  Christ,  in  reply, 
 admitted  that  self-witness  is  not  generally  valid,  but  declared 
 that  in  his  case  it  was,  because  he  testified  of  himself  with  the 
 confidence  and  clearness  of  a  consciousness  founded  in  Di\dnity. 
 "  Tlvoiifjh  I  bear  loitness  of  myself,  my  testimony  is  true;  for  I 
 know  tvJience  I  came  and  wloitlier  I  go"  (a  higher  self-conscious- 
 ness, transcending,  in  its  confidence,  all  doubt  and  self-decep- 
 tion ;  the  eternal  Light  beaming  through  the  human  conscious- 
 ness). Judging  merely  by  outward  ap2')earance,  and  incapable 
 of  apprehending  the  Divine  in  him,  they  were  deceived  (v.  1.5). 
 But  his  testimony  and  judgment  were  time,  because  not  given 
 by  himself  as  a  man  of  liimseLf,  but  by  him  imth  the  Father 
 (v.  19).  Thus  there  were  two  witnesses :  his  own  subjective 
 testimony,  infallible  because  of  his  communion  with  the  Father; 
 and  the  oljjective  testimony  of  the  Father  himself,  given  in  his 
 manifestation  and  ministiy  as  a  whole. 
 
 But  these  carnal-minded  men,  unsusceptible  for  this  spiritual 
 revelation  of  the  Father  in  the  manifestation  and  works  of  his 
 Son,  stiU  asked,  "  Wliere  is  this  witness  1  let  us  hear  the  Fa- 
 ther's voice,  and  behold  his  appearance."  He  showed  them,  in 
 turn,  that  the  knowledge  of  Him  and  of  the  FaJtlwr  were  inter- 
 dependent ;  that  they  could  not  know  him  as  he  was,  because 
 they  knew  not  the  Father;  and  that  they  could  not  know  the 
 Father,  because  they  knew  not  the  Son  in  whom  he  revealed 
 liimself. 
 
 Again,  -with  reference  to  the  continued  persecutions  of  the 
 Sanhedrim,  Christ  repeated  the  saying,  "  /  go,  and  you  will 
 seek  me;"  adding,  also,  the  reason  why  they  should  seek  in 
 
 balievers  in  all  ages,  John  justly  applied  them  to  this  (v.  39),  as  illustrated 
 in  the  progress  of  the  Church  before  his  eyes  when  he  wrote. 
 
 "  Cf.  these  wordd,  "the  light  of  life,  the  light  ivhich  giveUi  life,"ynih.  "  Oie 
 bread  of  life,"  p.  290.  The  "light"  precedes;  as  Christ  enlightens  the 
 darkened  world,  and  thus  leads  it  from  death  unto  life.  He  appears  first 
 to  the  dark  soul  as  the  enlightening  teacher  of  truth,  in  order  to  raise  it 
 to  communion  with  himself,  and  so  to  partake  of  the  Divine  life.  The 
 relation  of  "light"  and  "life  "is  not  outward  and  indirect,  but  inward 
 and  direct.  The  light  and  the  life  are  from  the  same  Giver  ;  sometimes 
 the  one  is  made  more  prominent,  sometimes  the  other,  according  to  the 
 bearings  in  which  he  is  spoken  of ;  the  life  as  light  (John  i.  4),  or  the 
 light  of  hfe. 
 
 y2 
 
324  CHRIST  AT  JERUS.\LE3r. 
 
 vain  (v.  21),  "  Because  ye  will  not  believe  in  the  Redeemer, 
 l)ut  tlie  in  your  sins,  and  therefore  be  excluded  from  heaven;" 
 because  (as  he  liimself  explained  it,  v.  23)  there  was  an  impas- 
 sable gulf  between  those  that  belong  to  this  world  and  Hiin 
 who  fUd  not.  But  the  prophetic  words  in  v.  28  were  not 
 spoken  ^vith  reference  to  these,  but  to  others :  "  W/ieii  ye  liave 
 lifted  up  tlm  Son  of  Man,  tlien  shall  ye  knoio  that  I  am  He,  and 
 that  I  do  nothing  of  myself;  but  as  my  Father  hath  taught  me,  I 
 speak  these  thimjs."  Tliis  was  spoken  of  such  as  then  mistook 
 tlie  Son  of  Man  in  his  human  appearance  (who  might  have 
 fallen  into  the  pardonable  sin  of  blasphemy  against  the  Son  of 
 Man,  Matt.  xii.  32),  but  who,  still  possessing  a  dormant  suscep- 
 tibihty  kept  down  by  prejudice,  v/ould  be  led  to  believe,  by 
 the  invisible  workings  of  his  Divine  Spirit,  when  they  should 
 see  that  work  which  was  believed  to  be  suppressed  by  his 
 death,  spreading  abroad  with  in-esistible  power. 
 
 §  196. — The  Connexion  between  Steadfastness,  Truth,  and  Freedom.     (John 
 viii.  30-32.) — Freedom  and  Servitude;  their  typical  Mcaniny  (33-38). 
 
 The  Divine  superiority  ^vit]l  which  Christ  sUenced  his  oppo- 
 nents, completed  the  impressions  of  his  previous  ministry  in 
 the  minds  of  many  of  the  people:  "As  he  spake  tliese  icords, 
 many  believed  on  him."  But  he  did  not  suffer  himself  to  be 
 carried  away  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  multitude.  He  says 
 that  many  of  them  lacked  true,  spiritual  faith,  and  knew  that 
 they  would  easily  be  turned  a.side,  if  he  should  not,  as  Messiah, 
 .satisfy  their  expectations.  In  order,  therefore,  to  point  out 
 the  requisites  of  time  disciplesliip,  and  to  show  what  they  might, 
 and  what  they  might  not,  expect  of  him,  he  said  (v.  31,  32), 
 *'  Only  by  holding  fast  my  doctrine  can  ye  be  my  disciples 
 indeed;  and  then  only  (when  you  shall  have  incorpoi'ated  tho 
 truth  ^vith  your  Ufc)  ■will  you  know  the  truth  (the  knowledge, 
 thorefoi'e,  springing  from  the  life),  and  the  power  of  the 
 truth,  thus  rightly  known,  shall  make  you  pax-takers  of  true 
 freedom." 
 
 Judas  of  Gamala  and  the  Zelotists  had  incited  the  pco])le  to 
 expect  in  !Mes.siah  a  delivei'er  from  the  temporal  yoke  of  tho 
 Komans.  In  the  words  above  cited,  Christ  coutx*asted  his  owu 
 aims  with  such  as  these.  Those  who  were  inclined  to  look 
 upon  him  as  a  temporal  Mes.siah  were  to  be  taught  that  the  true 
 freedom,  Avithout  which  there  can  be  no  other,  is  inward  and 
 spiritual;  and  that  this  alone  was  the  freedom  which  he  had 
 come  to  bestow,  a  liberty  not  to  be  communicated  from  with- 
 
FREEBOM  AND  SERVITUDE.  325 
 
 out,  but  to  spring  up  from  within,  through  the  interpenetra- 
 tion  of  His  truth  -with  the  practical  Hfe.  The  fact  that  his 
 words  were  perverted  or  misunderstood  (v.  33),  even  if  not  by 
 those  who  had  attached  themselves  to  him  with  some  dcgi-ee 
 of  susceptibility,  gave  him  occasion  to  develop  their  import 
 still  further. 
 
 The  same  persons  who  were  wont  to  sigh  under  the  Roman 
 yoke  as  a  disgraceful  sei*Adtude,  now  felt  tlicir  Theocratic  piidc 
 offended  becavise  Chiist  described  them  as  "  servants,  who  had 
 to  be  made  free,"  a  disgrace  for  descendants  of  Abraham  (v.  33). 
 In  Anew  of  this  pride  of  the  Theocratic  people,  and  the  carnal 
 confidence  which  they  indulged  in  their  outward  dignity,  a 
 dignity  unaccompanied  by  proper  dispositions,  Jesus  said, 
 "  Wfwsoever  committeth  sin  is  the  servant  of  sin.  The  servant 
 abicleth  not  in  the  house  for  ever;  he  may  be  expelled  for  his 
 faults  ;  but  the  Son  of  the  house  abideth  in  it  ever.  And  the 
 Son  of  the  house  may  obtain  liberty  for  the  servant,  and  make 
 him  a  free  member  of  the  household.  Think  not,  therefore, 
 that  ye  have  an  inalienable  claim  to  the  kingdom  of  God  ;  you 
 may,  for  your  imfoithfulness,  like  disobedient  servants,  be  ex- 
 cluded from  it.  Only  when  the  Son  of  God,  who  guides  the 
 Theocracy  in  the  name  of  the  Father,  shall  make  you  free,  will 
 you  be  free  indeed;  no  more  as  servants  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
 but  as  free  members  thereof,  as  children." 
 
 They  boasted  without  reason,  he  told  them,  of  being  Abra- 
 ham's children.  By  attemjiting  the  life  of  one  who  was  offer- 
 ing them  the  ti-uth,  and  thus  acting  as  enemies  to  the  truth, 
 they  showed  themselves  children  of  Satan''  rather  than  of 
 Abraham ;  their  disposition  and  actions  savoured  more  of  the 
 Father  of  lies  than  the  Father  of  the  faithful  (v.  37-14).  The 
 cause  of  their  unbelief,  therefore,  was  precisely  this,  that  their 
 disposition  of  heai't  was  the  reverse  of  Abraham's.  Him,  whom 
 Abraham  longed  for,  they  sought  to  desti'oy.  He  employed 
 thus  the  misunderstanding  of  the  Jews  to  bring  anew  before 
 them  the  idea  of  Messiah  as  Son  of  God  in  the  higher  sense, 
 an  idea  always  a  st\imbling-blocky  to  those  who  entertained 
 carnal  conceptions  of  INIessiah.  This  excited  theii'  rage  anew, 
 and  drew  upon  liim  the  accusation  of  bla.sphemy.^ 
 
 '  Cf.  r-  157.  r  Cf.  p.  290. 
 
 *  As  interpreters  have  often  remarked  on  John  viii.  57,  the  expression 
 of  the  Jews  was  not  inconsistent  with  the  fact  of  Christ's  lieing  just  thirty 
 years  old.  "  Thou  art  not  yet  f ft;/,  and  hu^  thou  seen  Abraham,  who  lived 
 60  many  centuries  ago?"  (Christ  was  at  the  beginning  of  the  middle 
 period  of  life,  ending  with  f/ti/,  in  which  year  the  Levites  were  freed  from 
 
326  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 §  197. —  Vain  Attempts  of  Ihe  Sanhedrim  against  Christ.    (John  vii.  40-53.) 
 — JJi»piite  in  the  Sanhedrim. — First  Decision  against  Christ. 
 
 Chiist  continued  liis  labours  in  Jerusalem  for  a  time  after 
 the  close  of  the  feast.  The  Sanhedrim  gradually  assumed  a 
 more  hostile  attitude,  and  would  have  taken  \dolent  measures 
 at  once,  had  not  a  di-sision  ensued  between  the  fanatical  zealots 
 who  held  that  any  means  were  justifiable,  and  those  who, 
 with  various  degi'ees  of  hostility,  were  more  moderate  in  their 
 opinions  and  feelings.  Even  during  the  continuance  of  the 
 feast  they  had  sought  to  seize  his  person,  but  part  of  the  mul- 
 titude were  on  his  side  ;  and  even  the  officers  of  the  Sanliedrim 
 that  were  sent  to  take  him,  unable  to  resist  the  impression  of 
 his  appearance  and  words,  returned  with  the  exclamation, 
 "Ifever  nvxn  spake  like  this  vian." 
 
 The  dominant  party  sought  to  seciire  the  immediate  con- 
 demnation of  Jesus  as  a  violator  of  the  law  and  a  blasphemer; 
 but  there  were  others  who  felt  the  power  of  his  words  and 
 works  more  than  they  openly  confessed ;  as,  for  instance,  Nico- 
 demus,  who  said,  "Both  our  Jaw  judge  any  man  hefwe  it  hear 
 him?"  Tliis  had  to  be  admitted  even  by  the  rest;  but,  as  is 
 usual  in  such  cases,  the  more  moderate  party  incurred  the  sus- 
 picion of  the  zealots.  And  when  the  latter  found  that  they 
 could  not  succeed  in  condemning  Christ  personally,  they  pro- 
 posed, to  lessen  his  influence  at  least  in  some  degree,  that  every 
 one  who  acknowledged  him  as  Messiah  shoiild  be  excommvmi- 
 cated.  In  this  they  presujjposed  that  the  Sanhedrim  was  the 
 highest  legislative  and  executi^-e  authority  in  religious  affairs ; 
 and  that  no  recognition  but  its  o-rni,  of  any  Divine  calling,  and 
 especially  of  the  liighest,  the  Messiahship,  would  be  valid.  The 
 result  was,  that,  although  no  decisive  judgment  was  pronoimced 
 again-st  the  person  of  Cluist,  it  was  made  piuiishable  for  any 
 one  to  recognise  him  apart  from  the  authority  of  the  San- 
 hedrim. This,  then,  was  the  Jirst  decree  pronounced  against 
 Christ.     (John  ix.  22). 
 
 I  198. — A  Man,  horn  Blind,  healed  on  the  Sahhath. — Christ's  Conversation 
 at  tlie  Time. — Indiridual  Siifer-ings  not  to  be  judged  as  Punishment  for 
 Sins. — Christ  the  Light  of  the  World.     (John  ix.) 
 
 If  the  charge  of  heresy  brought  against  Clirist,  on  account 
 of  the  pretended  violation  of  the  Sabbath,  produced  such 
 the  regular  service  of  the  Temple,  (Numb.  iv.  3  ;  viii.  25.)  Nothing  but 
 wilfuhiess  coulil  lead  Wcisse  and  GfOrer  to  conclude,  in  contradiction  to  all 
 the  accounts  and  to  iutei-nal  jjroljability,  that  Jesus  was  much  older  than 
 is  generally  supposed  when  he  entered  on  his  public  ministry.  On  the 
 tradition  that  Jesus  was  nearly  fifty,  which  arose  from  a  misunderstanding 
 of  these  words,  of.  my  Geschichtc  dcs  Apostol.  Zcitaltcrs,  3rd  ed.  vol.  ii.  p.  539. 
 
CURE  OF  THE  BLIND  M^VN.  327 
 
 striking  results,  he  gave  a  new  stimulus  to  the  rage,  and,  at 
 the  same  time,  to  the  jealousy,  of  the  hierarchical  party,  by  a 
 miraculous  cure  performed  on  the  Sabbath. 
 
 As  the  disciples  were  leaving  the  Temple  with  their  Master, 
 his  attention  was  drawn,  in  passing,  to  a  beggar  who  had  been 
 blind  from  his  bii-th.  Their  first  thought,  suggested  by  their 
 contracted  Jewish  ideas  of  the  government  of  God,''  was,  how 
 far  the  necessary  connexion  between  sin  and  evil  might  be 
 supposed  in  the  case:  "blaster,  wJio  did  sin,  this  man  or  his 
 parents,  that  he  was  horn  blind  V  An  untenable  theory  drove 
 them  to  this  dilemma;  even  if,  as  it  is  hardly  to  be  supposed 
 that  the  pre-existence  of  souls  was  presupposed  by  the  ques- 
 tioner, he  either  had  no  definite  idea  in  refen-ing  to  '^this  man," 
 or  did  not  know  certainly  at  the  time  that  he  was  bom  blind. 
 Christ,  not  admitting  such  a  precise  connexion  between  special 
 sins  and  special  evils,  replied,  at  first,  concisely,  "  Neither  luvth 
 this  man  sinned,  nor  his  parents;^  hut  that  the  works  of  God 
 should  he  made  manifest  in  him;"  that  his  sufierings  might 
 seem  the  higher  objects  of  God's  love  both  to  himself  and 
 others,  and  God's  works  of  sa-v-ing  power  and  mercy  be  dis- 
 played in  him.  And  for  himself,  apai-t  from  others,  the  cure 
 of  his  physical  blindness  was  to  lead  to  that  of  his  spiritual 
 darkness;  and  then  his  experience  was  to  become,  also,  the 
 means  of  saving  others.  Passing  over  dii'ectly  to  the  remark 
 that  through  himself  the  works  of  God  were  revealed,  Chiist 
 said,  "I  must  work  the  works  of  him  that  sent  me  while  it  is  day  ;'^ 
 tlie  night  cometh,  wlien  the  work  of  the  day  cannot  be  done.* 
 As  long  as  I  am  in  the  world,  I  am  the  light  oftlie  loorld."^ 
 
 The  cm-e  for  which  he  thus  prepared  them  was  probably 
 
 •  Cf.  p.  151,  152. 
 
 ''  An  apocrj'phal  writer  would  have  made  Christ  contradict  this  view 
 more  fully. 
 
 ■=  The  day,  the  time  for  labour;  its  fleeting  hours  must  he  improved. 
 "  I  cannot  let  the  opportunity  pass  without  doing  what  I  only  upon  earth 
 can  do.  My  stay  here  will  soon  end.  Nothing,  therefore,  must  hinder 
 me  from  that  which  I  (as  the  shining  Sun)  have  now  to  work  upon  the 
 earth." 
 
 ''  The  (fay = the  time  allotted  to  Christ's  ministry  on  earth ;  the  night, 
 therefore,  =  the  approaching  end  of  his  earthly  labours. 
 
 *  So  long  as  Christ  remained  on  earth,  he  must  remain,  according  to  his 
 nature,  the  Sun  of  the  world ;  so  long,  therefore,  he  must  shed  light 
 around  him,  dis]iense  bodily  and  spiritual  blessings ;  no  opportunity  of 
 doing  this  must  pass.  The  cure  of  this  blind  man,  bodily  and  spiritually, 
 was  part  of  his  work  as  "light  of  the  world."  Not,  indeed,  that  he  has 
 ever  ceased  to  be  "  the  light  of  the  world  ; "  but  his  personal  and  visible 
 manifestation  was  here  in  question ;  the  Sun  of  the  world,  visible  upon  the 
 earth  itself. 
 
328  CHRIST  l^  JERUSALEir. 
 
 gi-adual  (as  in  the  case  mentioned  p.  295);  the  patient,  per- 
 haps, began  to  see  when  Chi-ist  anointed  his  eyes,  and,  after 
 batliiiig  in  Siloam,^  was  completely  healed.6 
 
 §  199. — Attempts  of  the  SanJtcdrim  to  corrupt  and  alarm  the  restored  Blind 
 Man. — Christ's  Conveisation  with  him. — The  Sight  of  tfie  Blind,  and  the 
 Blindness  of  tlie  Seeing. 
 
 A.  great  sensation  must  have  ensued  among  the  multitude 
 at  sight  of  a  man  so  well  kno^vn  as  the  blind  beggar  walking 
 about  completely  restored.  John  gives  a  graphic  description 
 (ch.  ix.)  of  the  arts  employed  by  the  Sanliedrim  to  deny  or  ex- 
 plain away  a  fact  which  so  publicly  testified  to  the  power  of 
 Christ.  Their  craft  was  used  in  vain.  Nothing  could  be  ex- 
 torted from  the  lips  of  the  man  or  of  his  parents  to  further 
 their  designs.  The  beggar  s  incorruptible  love  of  tiTith  was 
 shoAvn  in  his  indignation  at  their  attempts  to  explain  away  his 
 own  experience,  and  force  lum  to  a  lie.  Then-  spmtual  arro- 
 gance was  wounded  by  his  firmness,  and  their  rage  soon  turned 
 against  himself. 
 
 '  Would  any  one  have  invented  this,  which  tends  to  dinunish,  instead  of 
 magnifying  the  miracle  ?  "  But  it  was  invented  for  the  sake  of  the  mys- 
 tical allusion  to  Siloam."  Were  this  so,  a  longer  explanation  than  the 
 sentence,  " vhich  is,  hy  interpretation,  'sent'  "  (v.  7),  would  have  been 
 given.  If  6  ipfii]veveTai  a-naraXfiivoQ  is  genuine,  and  a  mystical  meaning 
 is  assumed,  it  is  needless  to  insist  strictly  upon  grammatical  accuracy  in 
 the  translator,  especially  as  the  word  ni'Tt',  sending  out,  could  be  applied 
 by  metonymy  to  one  of  the  canals  from  the  spring  of  Siloam ;  and  the 
 form  nrcj  (Neh.  iii.  15)  comes,  in  fact,  near  to  this  translation.  As  has 
 been  said,  a  later  writer,  intending  to  give  a  mystical  interpretation,  would 
 have  coloured  it  more  deeply.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  we  do  not  arbi- 
 trarily assume  that  the  operations  of  the  Holy  Ghost  rudely  tore  asvmder 
 peculiarities  that  were  rooted  in  the  culture  of  the  people  and  the  times, 
 we  may  readily  imagine  that  John,  who  eagerly  caught  at  all  allusions  to 
 the  object  of  his  love,  would  be  inclined  to  find  a  mystical  and  higher 
 meaning  in  the  sending  of  the  blind  man  to  wash  in  the  pool,  and  that  the 
 more,  because  the  act  in  itself  was  comparatively  unimportant ;  and  that 
 he  thus  made  Siloam  the  sjTubol  of  the  heavenly  awoQTuXoq,  by  whom  the 
 diseased  man  was  to  be  healed. 
 
 tt  John's  omission  to  mention  expressly  that  the  cure  was  gradual  does 
 not  militate  against  our  view.  If  it  were  not  gradual,  we  should  have  to 
 supply  some  other  points  omitted  by  the  narrative,  c.  g.  that  some  one  led 
 the  blind  man  to  the  pool,  or,  that  he  was  so  accustomed  to  the  way  as  to 
 need  no  guidance.  Such  omissions  as  this  are  no  proof  that  the  account 
 was  not  due  to  an  eye-witness ;  especially  as,  on  the  theory  that  the 
 account  was  an  invention,  it  would  be  impossible  to  account  sjitisfactorily 
 for  the  mention  of  the  subsidiary  features  at  all.  In  all  the  rest  of  the 
 narrative — tlie  conduct  of  the  blind  man  and  of  the  Pharisees — the  stamp 
 of  eye-witness  is  indubitable  ;  and  the  want  of  minuteness  in  the  detail  of 
 the  fact  itself  was  probably  caused  by  the  narrator's  hastening  from  the 
 miracle  itself  to  that  in  which  he  was  most  interested,  viz.  its  result. 
 
PIHABLE  OF  THE  GCOD  SHEPHERD.  329 
 
 His  heart  \ras  prepared  by  tliis  conflict  -vvith  tlic  foes  of 
 Christ  to  receive  from  the  latter  a  revelation  of  his  character. 
 This  was  given  (v.  35-37)  probably  at  some  public  place  where 
 Jesus  found  him;  and  since  he  was  already  convinced  that  the 
 man  who  had  cured  him  was  endowed  with  Divine  power,  he 
 could  the  more  readily  recognize  him  as  Messiah,  when  an- 
 nounced by  himself  as  such. 
 
 The  conduct  of  tliis  poor  man  on  the  one  hand,  and  the 
 Pharisees  on  the  other,  represented  the  tendencies  of  two  op- 
 posite classes  of  mankind ;  and  Christ  set  this  opiiosition  forth 
 vividly  thus :  "For  judgment  I  am  come  into  this  world,  that 
 tliey  which  see  not  might  see;  atul  tluit  they  ichich  see  might  be 
 made  blind.  The  spiritual  wa~s  here  figvired  by  the  corporeal ; 
 the  bhnd  man  had  been  made  to  see,  while  the  Pharisees,  who 
 would  not  see  the  fact  before  them,  became  blind  with  their 
 eyes  open.  The  same  thing  occurred  in  a  spiiitual  sense ;  the 
 beggar,  spiritually  bHnded  by  invohmtary  ignorance,  but  con- 
 scious of  it,  humbly  accepted  the  spiritual  light  that  was 
 ofiered  him,  and  became  a  seeing  man.  The  Pharisees,  on  the 
 other  hand,  had  knowledge  enough,  but  would  not  use  it ;  and, 
 in  their  pride  of  knowledge,  shutting  out  the  Divine  light,  they 
 became  more  culpably  blind. 
 
 And  this  judgment  avails  for  all  ages.  "Wherever  the  Spirit 
 of  Chri-st  operates  among  men,  the  blind  are  made  to  see,  the 
 seeing  become  bhnd.  The  woi'k  of  Christ,  in  enhsfhtenins  and 
 blessmg  mankind,  cannot  be  accompUshed  without  this  "  sift- 
 ing j"  it  flows  necessarily  from  the  opposite  moral  tendencies 
 of  men.  The  grace  and  the  condemnation  go  hand  in  hand; 
 the  ofier  of  the  one  involves  the  infliction  of  the  other. 
 
 The  Pharisees  who  stood  around  knew  well  that  these  words 
 were  dii-ected  against  themselves,  and  asked  him,  in  offended 
 pride,  "Are  loe,  then,  blind  also?"  Christ  had  not  said  that 
 they  toere  blind,  but  that  they  loould  become  so  by  their  own 
 guilt;  and  he  replied:  "If  ye  tvere  blind,  ye  should  Juive  no  sin; 
 but  now  ye  say,  ive  see;  tliere/ore  your  sin  remaineth."  (Ignorance 
 would  have  excused  them,  as  in  the  case  of  the  sin  against  the 
 Son  of  Man.  But  their  boast  of  knowledge  was  a  ^\■itness 
 against  themselves.  Able  to  see,  but  not  willing,  their  bHnd- 
 ness  was  their  guilt.) 
 
 §  200. — Parable  of  the  Good  Shepherd. — 77te  Parable  extended. — Christ 
 the  Door. — Intimation  of  Mercy  to  the  Heathen.     (John  x.) 
 
 Christ  proceeded  to  characterize  the  Pharisees,  with  just 
 severity,  as  false  guides  of  the  people ;  doubtless  having  in  \dew 
 
330  CHRIST  IN  JERUSALEM. 
 
 at  the  time  the  conduct  of  the  tyrannical  hierarchs  to-wards  the 
 poor  blind  man,  and  liis  bearing,  in  turn,  towards  them.  He 
 first  describes  himself,  in  contrast  with  the  Pharisees,  as  the 
 genuine  and  divinely-called  leader  of  the  people.  The  blind 
 man  whom  he  had  healed  was  the  representative  of  all  such 
 oppressed  souls  as  were  repelled  by  the  selfish  judges,  and 
 drawn  to  Christ.  It  may  have  been  the  case  (although  the 
 supposition  is  not  necessary)  that  the  sight  of  a  flock  of  sheep 
 at  hand  suggested  the  parabolic  ^^  illustration  that  he  em- 
 ployed. 
 
 The  thief  who  leaps  over  the  wall,  instead  of  entering  the 
 fold  by  the  door,  represents  those  who  become  teachers  and 
 guides  of  the  people  of  theii*  own  mere  will.  The  Shepherd, 
 entering  in  at  the  door,  represents  Chiist,  who  offers  himself, 
 di\dnely  called,  to  guide  seeking  souls  to  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 His  voice  harmonizes  with  the  Divine  drawing  within  them; 
 they  know  it,  and  admit  him ;  lie  knows  them  all,  and  all  their 
 wants.  He  goes  before  them,  and  leads  the  way  to  the  pasture 
 where  their  wants  can  be  satisfied.  But  the  voice  of  the  selfish 
 leaders  is  strange  to  them,  and  they  flee  with  repugnance; 
 knowing  well  that  such  giudes  have  other  aims  than  the  salva- 
 tion of  the  souls  of  those  that  hear  them. 
 
 To  present  the  thought  still  more  strikingly,  he  extended 
 the  figure,  adding  several  new  traits.'  The  first  outline  of  the 
 parable  simply  contrasted  a  lawful  -wdth  an  imlawful  entering 
 into  the  fold ;  in  the  extended  form  of  it,  the  door  a,ssumes  a 
 new  significance.  He  himself  is  not  only  the  good  shepherd, 
 but  also  the  door  of  the  fold,  inasmuch  as  tlu'ough  liim  alone 
 can  longing  souls  find  entrance  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  This 
 very  fact,  that  he  is  at  once  both  shepherd  and  door,  distia- 
 guishes  him  from  all  other  shepherds;  it  is  the  pecuhai*  feature 
 of  Christ's  teaching,  as  distinct  from  all  teachers,  that  he  is 
 himself  the  revealer,  and  all  his  revelations  refer  back  to  liim- 
 aelf ;  he  can  point  out  no  other  door  to  the  kingdom  \>\\t  him- 
 self He  represents  himself  as  the  door  both  for  the  sheep  and 
 the  shepherds;  the  latter  more  prominently  here.  In  the 
 simple  outline  of  the  parable  he  had  contrasted  laimself,  as 
 shepherd,  with  the  thieves;  he  now  further  contrasts  other 
 shepherds  with  the  thieves.    All  who  sought  to  gather  followers 
 
 ''  Cf.  on  the  parables  of  John,  p.  116. 
 
 '  Examples  of  the  same  mode  of  extending  a  parable  are  to  be  found  in 
 the  Synoptical  Gospels. 
 
DIVISIONS  AMONG  THE  PEOPLE.  331 
 
 and  fuiin  parties  in  the  Theocratic  community,  and,  instead  of 
 turning  men's  hearts  to  Messiah,  turned  them  rather  to  them- 
 selves, were  thieves  and  robbers ;  but  such  could  find  no  access 
 to  hearts  really  seeking  salvation.  But  those  shepherds  that 
 enter  in  by  him  as  the  door  have  nothing  to  fear;  they  can  go 
 in  and  out,  and  find  pa,sture  for  the  sheep.  The  time  teacher, 
 who  leads  souls  to  Christ,  will  not  only  be  saved  himself,  but 
 will  be  able  to  satisfy  the  wants  of  the  souls  intnisted  to  his 
 care. 
 
 In  this  form  of  the  parable  Christ  contrasts  himself  (as  the 
 shepherd  who  alone  seeks  the  welfare  of  the  sheep)  not  only 
 with  the  thieves,  but  also  with  the  hirelings.  These  two  classes 
 con'esponded  to  two  different  classes  of  Pharisees,  viz.  those 
 who  sacrificed  the  welfare  of  the  people  to  their  wholly  selfish 
 aims ;  and  those  who,  with  better  feehngs,  had  not  love  enough, 
 and  therefore  not  courage  enough,  to  risk  everything  for  the 
 good  of  souls.  The  latter,  afraid  of  the  power  of  the  former, 
 gave  the  poor  people  uji  to  the  power  of  the  Evil  One  (the 
 wolf,  V.  12),  to  scatter  and  divide.  Standing  between  Christ 
 and  the  Sanhedi-im,  this  party,  with  all  their  good  intentions, 
 had  neither  the  steadiness  of  2>urpose  nor  the  self-sacrificing 
 lore  which  were  needed  in  such  a  position.  In  contrast  with 
 such,  Christ  declares,  "/  mn  tlie  good  shepherd,  and  knoio  my 
 sheep,  and  am  known  of  mine  (thus  betokening  the  inward  sym- 
 pathy between  himself  and  those  that  belonged  to  him  by  the 
 Divine  drawing  within  them),  and  I  lay  down  my  life  for  the 
 slwep^'' 
 
 With  this  view  of  his  coming  self-sacrifice  for  the  salvation 
 of  men  before  liim,  his  eye  glances  forward  to  the  greater  de- 
 velopment of  Ids  work  that  was  to  follow  that  saci'ifice,  and 
 tliere  he  sees  '■'■other  slieep,  not  of  this  fold" — souls  ready  for  the 
 kingdom  among  other  nations,  who  wex'e  also  to  have  their 
 place  before  its  consimimation  :  "  Them,  also,  I  must  bring,  and 
 they  sh(dl  hea/r  my  voice;  and  there  shall  he  one  fold,  and  one 
 shep/terd." 
 
 %  201. — Divisions  amvng  the  People. — Christ's  return  into  Galilee. 
 
 The  Avorldly-minded  and  fanatical  portion  of  the  people 
 were  incapable  of  imderstanding  these  words  of  Christ;  instead 
 of  inspiration  they  saw  nothing  but  extravagance.  But  others 
 were  ii'resistibly  attracted ;  words  such  as  no  other  coidd  utter, 
 seemed  to  them  in  perfect  harmony  with  ivorks,  such  as  no 
 
332  RETUEX  TIiaOUGH  S-VMARIA. 
 
 other  could  do.     New  divisions  arose,  and  the  power  of  the 
 Sanhedrim,  of  course,  was  upon  the  side  of  Christ's  enemies. 
 
 The  life  of  Jesus  was  more  and  more  endangered  every  day 
 at  Jerusalem,  and  his  ministry  more  and  more  distui-bed.  He, 
 therefore,  withdrew  from  the  metropoUs,  and  returned  to  Ca- 
 pernaum, now,  indeed,  for  the  last  time.'' 
 
 *•  From  the  statements  of  John,  taken  alone,  we  should  infer  that  Christ 
 did  not  leave  the  city  immediately  after  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  but 
 remained  until  that  of  the  Dedication.  It  is  true  that  John  does  not 
 expressly  scaj  (x.  22)  tliat  lie  remained,  which  deviation  from  tlie  ordinary 
 rule  we  might  expect  him  to  have  mentioned  ;  but  this  omission  can  be 
 explained  more  readily  than  the  omission  of  the  journey  back  to  Galilee. 
 Moreover,  it  would  be  easier  to  trace  the  connexion  of  the  history  by  sup- 
 posing the  previous  journey  to  have  been  the  last,  than  by  admitting  the 
 one  adopted  in  our  text  (chap.  xi.).  The  course  of  preparation  for  his 
 death  to  which  he  subjected  his  disciples  (as  already  related)  would  suit 
 much  better  to  this  hypothesi.s,  as  taking  place  just  before  the  last  journey 
 than  before  the  next  to  tlie  last. 
 
 Thus  far  we  agree  with  £.  Jacohi  (Dissertation  on  the  Chronology  of 
 the  Life  of  Jesus,  before  cited).  But  we  learn  from  Luke  ix.  51,  that 
 Jesus  made  his  last  journey  through  Samaria;  that  he  travelled  slowly,  in 
 order  to  scatter  the  seeds  of  the  kingdom  in  the  towTis  and  villages  as  he 
 passed,  and  to  make  wholesome  impressions  upon  the  people.  Against 
 John's  testimony  such  an  authority  as  this  would  not  avail ;  and  it  may  be 
 admitted,  too,  that  tlie  accounts  of  two  journeys  are  blended  together  in  it, 
 with  other  foreign  matter.  Cf  Luke  xiii.  22  ;  xvii.  11,  in  which  pa.ssages 
 a  beginning  is  made  towards  accounts  of  tico  journeys,  though  they,  per- 
 haps, refer  to  the  same  one.  TJut  it  is  clear,  in  any  case,  that  many  things 
 recited  here  must  belong  to  a  /f«<  journey  ;  for  instance,  xiii.  31-3o.  Now 
 it  cannot  be  for  a  moment  supposed  that  this  journey,  so  described,  was 
 the  one  that  Christ  took  in  order  to  attend  the  Feast  of  Tabeniacles 
 (John  viii.  2,  seq.)  ;  for  John  tells  us  that  in  that  case  he  remained  behind 
 the  rest,  and,  avoiding  all  publicity,  came  into  the  city  unexpectedly  after 
 the  feast  had  gone  on  for  some  days  ;  all  iitterly  in  conflict  with  Luke's 
 account  of  the  journey  through  Samaria.  Nor  is  it  internally  probable 
 that  Christ  would  have  remained  in  tlie  city  after  the  feast  at  a  time  when 
 his  labours  must  have  .suffered  so  many  hinderances  from  the  persecutions 
 of  the  Pharisees ;  the  last  period  of  his  stay  on  earth  was  to  be  more 
 actively  employed.  Nor  does  this  view  of  the  case  cmtradict  John's 
 statements  ;  it  only  presupposes  a  blank  necessary  to  be  filled. 
 
 We  have  tlius  drawn  attention  to  the  arguments  advanced  on  both  sides ; 
 not  intending,  however,  to  preclude  further  inquiry  of  our  own.  Cannot 
 John's  statement,  that  Jesus  went  up  to  the  feast  "not  openly,  but,  as  it 
 U'cre,  in  secret"  (vii.  10),  be  explained  by  supposing  that  he  did  not  take 
 the  usual  caravan  road,  nor  journey  with  a  caravan,  but  took  an  unusual 
 route  through  Hamaria,  a  province  that  held  no  connexion  whatever  with 
 Judea  ?  May  not  his  late  arrival  at  Jerusalem,  in  the  middle  of  the  feast, 
 be  explained  on  the  ground  that  he  intentionally  took  the  longer  route? 
 Admitting  this,  it  will  lie  easy  (as  Krahbc  and  WicscUr  allow)  to  reconcilo 
 John's  account  with  Luke's. 
 
REASONS  FOR  THE  JOUENEY.  333 
 
 CHAPTER  XII. 
 
 Christ's  retubn  from  capeunaum  to  Jerusalem  through 
 
 SAMARIA. 
 §  202. — Reasons  for  the  Journey  throu<jh  Samaria.  (Luke  ix.  51,  seq.) 
 After  a  short  abode  at  Cajiernaiiin,  Christ  determined  to 
 take  a  final  leave  of  that  place,  so  long  the  centre  of  liis  labours. 
 He  wished  to  visit  Jemsalem  again  at  the  Feast  of  the  Dedi- 
 cation, which  occurred  towards  the  end  of  December.  Many- 
 had  believed  on  him  during  his  last  stay  in  the  city,  and  he 
 had  been  compelled  to  leave  them  to  the  arts  of  the  liierarchy; 
 it  was  now  necessary  to  strengthen  and  confirm  their  faith  by 
 his  personal  presence.  He  chose  to  make  this  journey  by  way 
 of  Samaria,  rather  than  through  Persea,  in  order  to  scatter  the 
 seed  of  truth  as  -widely  as  possible  among  the  towns  and  -vil- 
 lages on  the  road.  A  longer  time  than  ordinary  was,  there- 
 fore, required  for  the  journey ;  and  he  left  Capernaum  sooner 
 than  was  absolutely  necessaiy  had  he  intended  to  go  directly 
 to  Jerusalem. 
 
 §  203. — Choice  of  the  Seventy.     (Luke  x.) — Import  of  the  Number 
 "  Seventy." 
 
 The  prospect  of  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  among  all  nations, 
 after  his  own  sufferings  should  have  j^repared  its  way,  lay 
 before  him  as  he  left  Capernaum  never  to  return ;  and  he  said 
 to  his  disciples,  in  view  of  so  vast  a  work,  in  which,  as  yet, 
 there  were  so  few  labourers,  "The  harvest,  truhj,  is  great,  hut 
 the  labourers  are  few;  pray  ye,  therefore,  the  Lord  of  the  harvest 
 that  he  loould  send  forth  labourers  into  his  harvest."  He  then 
 chose  a  number  of  his  fuUowers  as  his  S2)ecial  and  devoted 
 organs  for  proclaiming  the  kingdom,  and  sent  them  before  to 
 announce  and  explain  his  coming,  and  prepare  the  minds  of 
 the  people,  that  the  short  time  of  his  \isits  among  them  might 
 be  more  successfully  employed. 
 
 Some  definite  number  of  disciples  had  to  be  selected,  and  he 
 chose  (as  in  the  selection  of  the  Twelve,  p.  121)  a  number  at 
 that  time  in  common  currency.  The  round  number  seventy 
 may  have  had  general  reference  either  to  the  seventy  ciders, 
 or  to  the  seventy  membei-s  of  the  Great  Sanhediim ;  or  it  may 
 have  had  special  reference  to  the  opinion  prevalent  among  the 
 Jewish  theologians  that  there  were  seventy  languages  and 
 nations  upon  the  fiice  of  the  earth.  If  this  last  were  the  caae, 
 it  was  an  instance  of  formal  accommodation.  Without  con- 
 firming tliis  opinion,  Christ  might  have  employed  seventy  to 
 
334  RETURN  THROUGH  SAMARIA* 
 
 indicate  symbolically  that  his  organs  were  not  to  reach  the 
 Jewish  people  only,  but  all  the  nations  of  the  earth.l 
 
 §  204. — Instructions  to  the  Seventy  on  their  Mission.    (Liike  x.)     The  Woe 
 to  the  Unbelieving  Cities. 
 
 The  Spirit  of  Christ,  and  of  the  communion  which  he 
 founded  and  inspired,  demanded  that  his  oi-gans  should  not 
 labour  as  isolated  instruments,  but  in  union  with  each  other, 
 reciprocally  assisting  each  other :  just  as  he  promised,  "  Where 
 two  or  three  a/re  gathered  together  in  my  name,  there  am  I  in  the 
 micht  of  tJiem."  Therefore,  in  sending  out  his  disciples  in 
 various  directions  before  him,  he  sent  them  not  singly,  but  two 
 and  two. 
 
 '  The  fact  that  Luke  alone  mentions  the  choice  of  the  Seventy  is  no 
 reason  for  questioning  the  account.  We  attach  no  importance  to  the 
 narratives  in  regard  to  the  Seventy  current  in  the  first  centuries  {as  in  the 
 account  (mixed  up  with  legends)  of  the  conversion  of  King  Abgarus, 
 written  in  Syriac,  and  kept  in  the  archives  at  Edessa  (Eus.  Eecl.  Hist, 
 i.  13) ;  and  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  Hypotjrposes  of  Clement  of  Alexandria 
 (Eus.  i.  12),  which  also  contains  evident  falsehoods)  as  confirmatory  of 
 Luke's  statement.  But  its  perfect  aptness  in  the  historical  connexion,  and 
 the  entire  and  characteristic  coherency  of  everything  spoken  by  Christ, 
 according  to  Luke,  with  the  circumstances  (so  superior  to  the  collocation 
 in  Matthew),  strengthen  the  argument  in  its  favour.  How  appropriate  is 
 the  language  of  Luke  x.  2,  in  view  of  the  approaching  new  development 
 of  the  kingdom  of  God;  whereas  in  Matthew  (ix.  37,  38)  the  same  words 
 are  connected  with  the  account  of  the  preaching  in  Galilee  and  the  choice 
 of  the  Twelve  Apostles.  So,  in  Matt.  x.  the  continuation  of  Clirist's  dis- 
 course to  the  Seventy  (as  given  in  Luke  x.)  is  connected  with  the  Twelve, 
 with  many  passages  that  must  have  been  addressed  to  the  Apostles  at  a 
 later  and  more  hostile  period.  In  Luke,  the  instructions  to  the  Seventy 
 are  distinguished  from  those  to  the  Twelve  in  this,  that  the  former  contain 
 allusions  to  the  difficulties  in  which  the  missionaries  would  be  involved  ; 
 but  no  definite  references  to  the  subsequent  mission  of  the  disciples  to  the 
 heathen.  The  rebukes  of  Chorazim,  Capernaum,  &c.  suit  exactly  to  the 
 time  when  Christ  was  taking  his  final  leave  of  the  neighbourhood  which 
 had  been  the  centre  of  his  labours,  and  so  Luke  assigns  them  ;  but  in 
 Matt.  xi.  they  are  given  in  connexion  with  the  reply  to  John  Baptist's 
 messengers. 
 
 It  is  clear  that  Christ  called  upon  others  than  the  Twelve  to  join  them- 
 selves closely  to  him  ;  and  we  find  that,  after  he  left  the  earth,  others  did 
 belong  to  the  narrower  circle  of  the  disciples.  All  this  indicates  that  such 
 a  circle  was  formed  by  himself ;  for  the  whole  number  of  disciples  must 
 have  amounted  not  only  to  120  (Acts  i.  15),  but  to  500  (1  Cor.  xv.  6). 
 
 But  it  may  be  said  [as  it  has  been]  that  this  story  of  the  definite  number 
 seventy  was  invented  at  a  later  period.  Even  if  this  were  so,  it  would  not 
 discredit  Luke's  statement,  so  precisely  fitting  to  the  history,  of  tlie  way 
 in  which  tlie  circle  was  formed.  But  there  is  no  reason  to  doubt  that 
 Christ,  who  was  accustomed  to  adopt  and  use  existing  forms,  should  not 
 have  appropriated  such  a  one  as  this  in  forming  the  second  narrower  circle 
 of  disciples. 
 
INSTRUCTIONS  TO  THE  SEVENTY.  335 
 
 The  instructions  given  to  tliem  were  similar  to  those  which 
 he  had  pre^iously  impressed  upon  the  Twelve;'^  but,  as  the 
 opposition  of  the  Pharisees  had  greatly  increased  in  violence, 
 he  foretold  that  they  would  meet  with  many  enemies :  '^  I  send 
 you  f will  as  lambs  amoruj  wolves."  This  may  either  imply  that 
 they  were  to  go  forth  defenceless  among  the  most  fierce  and 
 cruel  foes;  or  because  the  Pharisees,  as  selfish  leaders  who 
 sacrificed  the  welfare  of  their  flocks,  were  wolves  in  slieeps 
 clothing,  the  discijjles  Ave  re  conti'asted  with  them  as  lambs  in 
 innocence  of  heart  and  gentleness.  Or  both  thoughts  together 
 may  have  been  intended.  But  unfavourable  as  was  the  field 
 of  their  labour,  he  bade  them  take  no  uneasy  care  for  the 
 future,  and  to  trust  confidently  that  all  their  wants  would  be 
 suppUed.  They  were  told,  as  the  Apostles  had  been  (Ls.  3), 
 to  '^  carry  neitlier  purse,  iior  scrip,  nor  shoes/'  but  "wdth  the 
 view,  in  addition  to  the  trust  in  Providence,  which  the  rule 
 implied  in  both  cases,  to  expedite  then'  journey,  as  its  imme- 
 diate objects  required  haste:  ["Salute  no  man  by  the  way."] 
 
 After  declaring  to  them  (v.  5-12)  that  the  destiny  of  the 
 towns  into  which  they  entered  would  be  fixed  by  the  reception 
 they  gave  to  the  preaching  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  Christ 
 pronounced  a  woe  upon  those  towns  of  Galilee  °  which  had  been 
 so  greatly  favoured  by  his  labours,  and  had  (the  little  flock  of 
 behevers  excepted)  given  them  so  unworthy  a  reception. 
 "Had  such  miracles"  been  wi'ought  La  Tyre  and  Sidon,  they 
 had  a  long  while  ago  repented.  And  thou,  Capernamn,  which 
 art  exalted  to  heaven,  shalt  be  cast  down  to  Hades."?     The 
 
 "  That  is,  indeed,  an  arrogant  and  presumptuous  criticism  which  de- 
 cides that  the  whole  account  of  the  mission  of  the  Seventy  is  a  mere 
 imitation  of  that  of  the  Tw^elve,  simply  because  the  two  sets  of  instructions 
 are  not  accurately  distinguished  from  each  other. 
 
 "  Many  miracles  are  here  presupposed  as  wrought  in  Western  Bethsaida 
 and  in  the  neighbouring  and  obscure  village,  Chorazin)  which  have  not 
 been  transmitted  to  us. 
 
 0  Such  sayings  from  Christ's  own  lips  prove  that  he  himself  was  con- 
 scious of  performing  acts  out  of  the  ordinary  course  of  the  material  world, 
 by  which  even  the  dullest  might  have  been  awakened  had  they  possessed 
 proper  religious  susceptibilities  ;  as,  indeed,  without  these,  the  stimulus 
 of  miracles  could  have  been  but  transient. 
 
 P  The  word  oxpojOuaa  (v.  15)  may  be  understood  objectively  or  subjec- 
 tively. In  the  first  sense,  it  would  imply  that  the  town  was  exalted  by 
 the  lot  which  had  fallen  to  it ;  certainly  not  in  reference  to  worldly  wealth, 
 although  it  was  a  prosperous  place  ;  but  to  the  presence  and  the  ministry 
 of  Christ  which  it  had  enjoyed.  Taken  subjectively,  it  would  refer  to  the 
 arrogance  of  the  city,  as  preventing  it  from  rightly  appreciating  the  grace 
 which  had  been  bestowed  upon  it.     The  connexion  favours  the  first. 
 
33G  RETURN  THROUGH  SA5LA.RIA. 
 
 higlier  one  may  rise  by  rightly  using  the  grace  bestowed  upon 
 hiui,  the  deeper  mil  be  his  fall  if  he  neglects  it.  He  who  was 
 the  humblest  of  men  here  betokened  himself  as  one  whose 
 ministry  in  a  city  could  exalt  it  to  heaven ;  and  in  the  mouth 
 of  any  other  tlie  expression  would  have  been  the  height  of 
 aiTogance.  Vainly,  indeed,  do  some  attempt  to  flatten  down 
 this  language  of  Christ's  into  Oriental  hyperbole;  an  attempt, 
 too,  which  is  utterly  unjustifiable  in  regard  to  his  language,  in. 
 which  the  figures  of  the  East  were  so  imbued  with  the  sobriety 
 of  the  West  as  to  stamp  them  with  fitness  for  all  times  and  all 
 countries. 
 
 §  205. — Exultation  of  tlie  Disciples  on  their  Return. — The  Overthrow  of 
 Satan's  Kingdom. — Christ  warns  the  Disciples  against  Vanity.  (Luke  x. 
 17-20.) 
 
 When  the  disciples,  at  a  later  period,  returned  from  their 
 mission  to  meet  Christ,  they  related  to  him,  Avith  child-like 
 joy,i  the  great  things  they  had  achieved  in  liis  name :  "  Even 
 t/ie  devils  are  subject  to  us  in  thy  7iame." 
 
 As  Christ  had  pre\'iously  designated  the  ciu-e  of  demoniacs 
 wrought  by  himself  as  a  sign  that  the  kingdom  of  God  had 
 come  upon  the  earth/  so  now  he  considered  what  the  disciples 
 reported  as  a  token  of  the  conquering  power  of  that  kingdom, 
 before  which  every  evil  thing  must  yield :  "  /  beheld^  Satan  as 
 lightning  fall  from  heaven;  i.  e.  from  the  pinnacle  of  power 
 which  he  had  thus  far  held  among  men.  Before  the  intuitive 
 glance  of  his  spirit  lay  open  the  results  wliich  Avcre  to  flow 
 from  his  redemptive  work  after  his  ascension  into  heaven;  he 
 
 1  This  does  not  seem  to  me  to  justify  De  Wette'a  conclusion  that  Christ 
 had  not  as  yet  conferred  on  them  the  same  powers  as  on  the  Apostles. 
 Even  in  possession  of  this  power,  they  might  have  been  surprised,  con- 
 scious of  what  they  were,  to  find  such  great  things  done  by  them  ;  just  as 
 in  other  cases,  a  man  who,  while  conscious  of  his  own  weakness,  serves  as 
 an  organ  for  the  objectively  Divine,  may  be  surprised  .at  what  he  does,  in 
 comparison  with  what  he  is.  '  Cf.  p.  160. 
 
 •  Beholding  in  the  spirit  is  here  undoubtedly  meant ;  Christ  designates 
 by  a  symbolical  figure  what  the  glance  of  his  Spirit  foresaw  in  the  progress 
 of  the  future.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  here  a  vision  like  that  of  the 
 prophets,  in  which  the  truth  was  presented  in  a  symbolical  veil  or  covering. 
 Nowhere  in  the  history  of  Christ  do  we  find  an  intuition  in  the  form  of  a 
 vision ;  indeed,  such  seem  to  have  been  precluded  by  the  proper  indwelling 
 of  Gon  in  Him,  distinguishing  Him  from  all  prophets  to  whom  a  transient 
 Divine  illumination  is  imparted;  in  Him  tlie  Divine  .and  the  Human  were 
 completely  one;  in  Him  was  show^n  the  calmness,  clearness,  and,  steadiness 
 of  a  mind  bearing  within  itself  the  source  of  Divine  light ;  in  His  unl>rokcn 
 consciousness  as  God-Man,  we  dare  not  distinguish  moments  of  light  and 
 moments  of  darkness. 
 
THE  KINGDOM  OF  GOD.  337 
 
 saw,  in  spirit,  the  kingdom  of  God  advancing  in  triumph  over 
 the  kingdom  of  Satan.  He  docs  not  say  "I  see  now,"  but 
 "  /  mw."  He  sail)  it  before  the  disciples  brought  the  report 
 of  their  accomplished  wonders.  While  they  were  doing  these 
 isolated  works,  he  saw  the  one  great  work — of  which  theirs 
 were  only  particular  and  individual  signs — the  -sdctory  over 
 the  mighty  power  of  evil  which  had  ruled  mankind,*^  com- 
 pletely acliieved.  And,  therefore  (v.  19),  he  promised,  in 
 consequence  of  this  genei-al  victory,  that  in  their  coming 
 labom-s  they  should  do  still  gi-oater  tilings.  They  were  to 
 trample  the  power  of  the  enemy  imder  foot ;  they  were  to 
 walk  unharmed  over  eveiy  obstacle  that  opposed  the  kingdom 
 of  God, 
 
 But  at  the  same  time  he  warned  them  against  a  tendency, 
 dangerous  to  their  ministry,  which  might  possibly  attach  to 
 their  joy  at  its  brilliant  and  extraordinary  resvilts.  "Xotwith- 
 standing,  in  this  rejoice  not,  that  the  spirits  are  subject  unto  you." 
 They  were  liable  to  vanity,  glorying  in  the  means,  viz.  the 
 individual  brilliant  results  of  their  ministry,  rather  than  in  the 
 Di^one  end,  the  triumph  of  the  kingdom,  to  which  all  single 
 results  were  but  subsidiary  elements;  a  vanity  which  might 
 deceive  itself,  and  take  the  appearance  for  the  reality.  And 
 many  great  and  successful  labourers  have  yielded  to  this  temp- 
 tation ;  theu'  very  works  becoming  the  means  of  corrupting 
 their  interior  life;  and  this  having  become  impiu-c,  the  im- 
 purity passes  over  into  their  works  also.  "  But  rather  rejoice 
 that  your  names  are  xoritten  in  heaven."  They  were  to  do 
 wonderful  works  in  the  futiu-e ;  but  these  were  not  to  be  the 
 source  of  their  joy;  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  aim  of  all  their 
 labom's,  was  to  be  the  object  of  their  rejoicing;  and  all  else 
 subordinate  to  it.  "  Your  great  deeds  are  to  be  as  nothing  in 
 comparison  to  the  grace  given  you,  the  pardon  of  your  sins. 
 and  life  evei-lasting." 
 
 §  206. — The  Kingdom  of  God  revealed  to  Bahes. — The  Bksscdncs?  .-j   the 
 Disciples  in  beholding  it.     (Luke  x.  21,  2i.) 
 
 Thus  piercing  the  futm-e,  and  seeing  that  these  simple, 
 child-like  men,  who  had  nothing  but  what  was  given  them, 
 were  to  be  organs  of  the  power  of  God  to  renovate  humanity, 
 that  by  tlieir  preaching  men  were  to  learn  what  human  wisdom 
 could  never  have  discovered,  he  poui-ed  forth  the  holy  joy  of 
 his  heart  before  God  in  fervent  thankiidness :  "  /  tJucnk  thee, 
 
 »  Cf.  John  xii.  31. 
 Z 
 
338  RETURN  THROUGH  SA3IARIA, 
 
 0  FcUlier,  Loi'd  of  Jieaven  and  earthy  that  thou  hast  hid  tJiese 
 things  from  the  wise  and  piicdent,  and  Juxst  revealed  them  unto 
 babes :^  even  so,  Father,  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sights  All 
 thhufs  are  delivered  to  me  of  my  Failier;^  and  no  man  knoweth 
 who  tlie  Son  is^  (the  true  nature  of  the  Son)  but  the  Father; 
 and  who  tite  Father  is,  but  the  Son,  and  he  to  whom  the  Son  will 
 reveal  him"^ 
 
 After  he  had  thus  poured  out  his  soul  before  GrOD,  he  turned 
 to  his  disciples,  and  pronounced  them  blessed,  because  their  eyes 
 had  beheld  that  which  the  projihets  and  the  pious  had  waited 
 and  longed  for.^ 
 
 "  Tlie  Omnipotent  Creator,  who  manifests  himself  as  Father  in  con- 
 descending to  the  wants  of  men,  and  in  his  self- revealing  love. 
 
 '  The  hiding  from  the  wise  and  the  revealing  nnto  babes  are  closely  con- 
 nected together  ;  it  required  child-like  submission  and  devotion  to  receive 
 the  communications  of  the  higher  source,  and  therefore  none  could  receive 
 it  but  such  as,  like  children,  in  need  of  higher  light,  yielded  themselves 
 up  to  the  Divine  illumination  ;  and  for  the  same  reason,  those  whose 
 imagined  wisdom  satisfied  them,  because  they  were  devoid  of  child-like 
 submission,  could  not  receive  the  Divine  communications. 
 
 "  I  think  that  i'^onoXoyoviiai  is  not  to  be  repeated  after  vai  in  v.  21 ; 
 the  latter  (like  afit)v)  is  a  confirmation  of  the  preceding  passage,  and  a 
 reason  is  assigned — " so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight ;"  a  higher  necessity, 
 viz.  the  pleasure  of  God,  made  it  so.  These  words  form  the  point  of  tran- 
 sition to  the  following  verse,  which  contains  the  ground  of  the  preceding ; 
 viz.  that  the  Son  receives  all  by  communication  from  God,  but  none  can 
 know  the  Son,  except  it  be  revealed  to  him  by  the  Father. 
 
 *  Tliat  is,  according  to  the  connexion,  all  power  to  carry  on  and  develop 
 the  kingdom  of  God  victoriously,  and  to  give  eternal  life  to  believers 
 (John  xvii.  2).  Christ  had  previously  said  that  the  Divme  power  given  to 
 him  should  show  itself  in  the  efficiency  of  his  organs  in  spreading  the 
 kingdom  of  God. 
 
 y  For  this  mighty  power  was  granted  to  him  in  view  of  his  original 
 relations  to  God. 
 
 *  This  entire  passage,  which  in  Luke  connects  itself  so  naturally  and 
 closely  with  the  narrative,  is  placed  by  Matthew  (xi.  25-27)  in  connexion 
 with  the  woes  jironounced  upon  the  unbelieving  towns  of  Galilee. 
 
 '  Tlie  passage  in  v.  23,  24,  forms  an  apt  and  fitting  conclusion  to  what 
 had  gone  before,  both  in  form  and  substance.  The  kut  Iciav  fits  with  the 
 supposition  that  the  disciples,  on  their  return,  found  Christ  surrounded  by 
 one  of  those  groups  that  frequently  gathered  about  him.  Tlie  same  words 
 stand,  also,  in  a  clear  connexion  in  Matt.  (xiii.  16,  17),  but  not  so  close  as 
 Luke's.  Even  the  form  of  the  words  is  closely  atlapted  to  the  occasion 
 and  the  context.  It  is  a  question  whether  tlie  words  "kings"  or  "righteous 
 men"  (as  Matt,  gives  it)  were  the  original  one.  The  exchange  may  have 
 taken  place  because  "kings"  appeared  foreign  ;  or  vice  rersd,  l>ecause 
 "righteous  men"  ai)peared  too  indefinite.  By  the  word  "kings,"  then, 
 we  must  understand  "the  pious  kings;"  and  the  instance  of  a  David 
 might  have  led  Jesus  to  connect  "kings"  with  "prophets."  Tims  the 
 ap])arently  insignificant  disciples  are  contraste<l  with  men  of  the  highest 
 
SIGNS  OF  DISCIPLESHIP,  339 
 
 The  "seeing"  and  "hearing"  are  not  to  be  taken,  as  Hugo 
 a  St.  Victor  long  ago  remarked,  in  an  outward  sense,  but 
 spiritually,  Avitli  reference  to  the  ti-uth  revealed  to  them,  which 
 had  been  veiled  and,  to  some  extent,  hidden  from  those  who 
 occupied  even  the  highest  place  in  the  Old  Dispensation.  A 
 conscious  or  unconscious  longing  for  the  future  revelation  was 
 theii"  highest  attainment. 
 
 §  207.— r/ie  Signs  of  DisciplesMp.  (Matt.  vii.  22.)— Requisites,  viz.  Self- 
 Denial  and  Rmgnation  (Luke  ix.  50,  62) :  Taking  up  the  Cross.  Luke 
 xiv.  25-35 ;  Matt.  x.  38 ;  xvi.  24.) 
 
 If  we  were  cori'ect  in  our  remarks  upon  the  Sermon  on  the 
 Moimt,  p.  257,  we  must  assign  to  this  period  the  following 
 words  ot  Christ  (Matt.  vii.  22) :  "  Many  loill  say  to  vie  in  that 
 day,  Lord,  Lo^-d,  have  ice  twt  proj^hesied  in  thy  name  ?  and  in 
 thy  name  have  cast  out  devils?  and  in  thy  name  done  many 
 v)onderful  ivories?  And  then  will  I  profess  unto  them,  I  never 
 knew  you;  depart  from  me,  ye  that  work  iniquity.'"^  Words 
 referring  to  that  period  in  which  Christ  had  already  imparted 
 miraculous  powers  to  the  disciples,  and  had  to  warn  them 
 against  the  danger  of  losing  sight  of  the  sole  object  of  then* 
 works,  in  the  splendoiu"  and  notoriety  of  the  works  themselves. 
 Christ,  then,  with  his  piercing  glance  into  the  future,  announces 
 that  not  the  doing  great  works  in  his  name,  but  holy  dispo- 
 sitions and  aims  alone,  would  be  an  infalHble  sign  of  disciple- 
 ship.  He,  who  recognized  as  his  own  such  as  gave  a  cup  of 
 cold  water  to  the  least  in  his  name,  repulsed,  as  aliens,  those 
 who  pretended  to  do  gi-eat  works  in  his  name;  the  di.sposition 
 shoAvn  in  then-  lives  made  it  manifest  that,  although  liis  name 
 was  upon  then-  lips,  it  was  not  in  their  hearts.  To  such,  also, 
 might  be  applied  his  saying,  "He  t/uit  is  not  with  me  is  against 
 me.'' 
 
 An  attempt  at  a  nearer  definition  of  the  relation  in  which 
 such  persons  and  their  works  stood  to  Christ  may  be  made  as 
 follows :  They  were  perhaps  really,  at  first,  in  communion  with 
 
 importance  in  the  development  of  the  Theocracy.  There  is  no  difficulty 
 in  supposing  that  Christ  passed  over  from  "prophets"  to  "righteous  men," 
 and  then  the  adjective  "many"  (Matt.  xiii.  17)  would  be  the  more 
 applicable. 
 
 There  is  internal  proof  that  this  passage  was  not  (as  some  suppose) 
 ascribed  to  Chri.st  a.s  a  post  factum  prediction.  Those  who  suppose  this 
 must  conceive  tliat  the  passage  was  invented  to  oppose  the  heretics,  who 
 boasted  of  miraculous  powers.  But  in  that  case  fake  doctrine  would  have 
 been  made  inore  prominent  than  bad  actiwis  ;  and  even  the  appearance  of 
 recognizing  their  works  as  real  miracles  would  have  been  avoided. 
 
 z2 
 
340  BETURN  THROUGH  SAJIAEIA. 
 
 him,  and  thus  participated  in  the  Diviae  life  from  which  these 
 miraculous  powers  went  forth;  but  aftersvai-d — rejoicing  more 
 that  they  were  able  to  cast  out  de\dls  than  that  their  names 
 were  wiitten  in  the  Book  of  Life — their  very  works  became  a 
 snare  to  destroy  them,  and  their  higher  life  was  lost  in  out- 
 ward appearance.  After  the  principle  of  life  was  gone,  single 
 and  separate  impulses  may  yet  have  remained.  Isolated  eftbrts 
 may  continue  after  the  prime  cause  is  destroyed ;  there  may  be 
 life-like  convulsions  when  life  has  departed  for  ever.  Compare 
 what  Paul  says  in  1  Cor.  xiii.  1-3,  about  such  separate  good 
 deeds  when  uninspired  by  the  life  of  love. 
 
 It  may  be  objected,  howevei*,  that  Christ  betokens  these  as 
 persons  whom  he  had  oiever  known  as  liis  own.  As  such,  we 
 must  beUeve  that  the  new  birth  had  never  been  fully  realized 
 in  them ;  tliat  they  had  been  predominantly  selfish  from  the 
 first ;  that  none  but  isolated  impulses  of  the  higher  life,  mere 
 exaltations  of  the  natural  feeHngs  or  imagination,  had  ever 
 found  place  in  them.  "We  must  remember  well  that  stimulated 
 natural  powers  may  do  many  things  apparently  resembling  the 
 work  of  Di\-ine  power,  but,  in  fact,  very  different  from  it. 
 
 Many  persons,  in  the  places  to  which  Christ  came,  were  so 
 powerfully  affected  by  his  preaching,  as  to  wish  earnestly  to 
 attach  themselves  to  him  for  ever;  but  he  did  not  receive  aU. 
 Some,  carried  away  by  transient  emotions,  felt  willing  to  pro- 
 mise more  than  they  could  perform;  and  he  took  pains  to  lay 
 before  such  the  sufferings  and  struggles  they  must  undergo  as 
 his  followers,  the  sacrifices  and  self-denial  which  devotion  to 
 him  must  cost. 
 
 One  of  these,  who  probably  went  with  him  a  little  distance 
 from  a  village  where  he  had  stayed  a  short  time,"^  said  unto 
 him,  '■^  Lord,  I  will  follow  the^  whithersoever  thou  goest."  Christ 
 bade  him  reflect  well  before  taking  such  a  step:  "Foxes  have 
 Jioles,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  luove  nests,  hut  the  Son  of  Man 
 liath  not  where  to  lay  his  head;"  expressing  the  privations  and 
 necessities  to  wliich  all  Avho  followed  him  thereafter  would  ex- 
 pose themselves.  Another  whom  he  invited  to  follow  him,  as 
 he  was  about  departing,  said,  "  Suffer  mo  first  to  go  and  bury 
 my  father"  Under  other  cu-cumstances  Christ  would  not  have 
 hindered  the  indulgence  of  such  a  filial  love;  but  he  made  use 
 of  this  case  to  show,  by  a  striking  example,  that  those  who 
 
 "=  If  stress  is  to  be  laid  upon  Luke  ix.  56,  57,  these  little  narratives, 
 which  fit  so  aptly  to  this  part  of  the  history,  stand  in  a  much  clearer 
 chronological  and  pragmatical  connexion  in  Luke  ix.  than  in  Matt.  viii. 
 
TAKIXG  UP  TKE  CROSS.  341 
 
 souglit  to  follow  liim  must  deny  natural  feelings  tliat  were 
 otherwise  entii'ely  sacred,  when  the  interests  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God  required  it.  '■  Ltt  tlie  dead  bury  their  dead,  hut  go  tJioit 
 and  jrreach  the  kingdom  of  Godr  (Let  those  who  are  them- 
 selves dead,  who  know  nothing  of  the  higher  interests  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God  or  the  Divine  life,  attend  to  the  lifeless  clay. 
 But  thou,  upon  whom  the  Divine  life,  which  conquers  all  death, 
 is  opened,  tlwu  must  devote  thyself  wholly  to  propagate  it  by 
 preaching  the  Gospel.  It  is  for  the  dead  to  cai'e  for  the  dead ; 
 the  living  for  the  living.)  So  in  answer  to  another,  who  said, 
 '■'■Let  me  first  go  and  hid  them  farewell  which  are  at  home  at  my 
 house j'  Christ  expressed  a  similar  thought :  "No  one  Iiavitig  put 
 his  ha)id  to  the  plough,  and  looking  back,  is  fit  for  the  kingdom  of 
 God "  '^  (no  one  can  become  a  proper  organ  of  the  kingdom  who 
 does  not  give  himself  up  to  it  with  undivided  soul,  suifering  no 
 earthly  cares  to  distract  liim). 
 
 At  a  certain  point  of  this  journey,  whole  hosts  of  people, 
 attracted  by  Christ's  appearance  and  preaching,  followed  after 
 him  (Luke  xiv.  25).  He  took  pains  to  impress  upon  the  minds 
 of  this  multitude  the  necessaiy  conditions  of  fellowship  with 
 him;  that  they  were  not  to  expect  the  appearance  of  JNIessiah's 
 kingdom  in  its  glory  upon  the  earth,  and,  therefore,  to  look  for 
 nothing  but  ease  and  enjoyment  in  his  communion;  nay,  on 
 the  other  hand,  said  he,  "If  any  man  cootie  to  me,  and  hate  not 
 his  father  and  mother,  &lg.  yea,  and  his  oivn  life  also,  he  cannot 
 be  my  disciple."  (The  nearest  and  dearest  earthly  ties  must  not 
 stand  in  the  way  of  the  kingdom  of  God.)  "jUid  whosoever  doth 
 not  bear  his  cross,  and  come  after  me,  cannot  be  my  disciple."^ 
 
 ^  Wetstein  adduces,  in  illustration  of  this  passage,  the  beautiful  Ty- 
 thagorean  sentiment  of  Simpliciiis,  in  his  Commentary  on  Epictetus :'  tig 
 Tu  'Upov  aTrepx^frn'og  ix>)  iTTiorpj^oi;. 
 
 *  It  is  involved  in  the  very  idea  of  following  Christ,  that  he  who  does  it 
 decides  to  "bear  his  own  cross."  The  sense  of  this  phrase  is  well  illus- 
 trated in  Plutarch  (de  Sera  Numinis  Vindicta,  c.  ix.),  who  says,  that  "As 
 wickedness  bears  its-  own  punishment  along  with  it,  so  the  wicked  man 
 bears  his  own  cross."  Kat  ti^  fiiv  awfxari  twv  KoXaZonivwv  tKaaroQ 
 KciKovpywi'  iKcpipiL  TOP  aiiTov  <7Tnv(i6u'  i)  ce  KOKia  twv  (coXaar/jpiojv  t^' 
 iavri^i'  tKacTTOv  i^  (ii'Ti]g  TiKTaivtrai,  ttivi]  ng  ovaa  j^iov  Sijuiovpyog 
 oiKTpov  Kai  avv  alaxvvy  (j)u£ovg  re  iroWovg  Kal  irdGr]  ^aXfTrd  Kai  {.itrn- 
 fifXtiag  Kai  THpax^g  aTtavarovg  i\ovtoq.  This  passage  shows  that  Christ 
 m{[/ht  have  employed  the  phrase  without  any  known  reference  to  his 
 death  ;  the  form  of  the  expression  is,  therefore,  no  proof  that  the  passage 
 was  modified  after  his  death  upon  the  cross.  But  John  tells  us  that  Christ 
 did  allude  to  his  impending  death  upon  the  cross  in  the  use  of  the  word 
 iiipouv  (xii.  32) ;  and  this  may  have  been,  and  probably  was,  before  his 
 mind,  in  connexion  with  his  being  delivered  over  to  ihe  heathen,  when  lie 
 
342  KETURX  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 (As  Christ,  condemned  to  death  upon  the  cross,  must  himself 
 cany  the  instrument  of  liis  sufferings  and  ignominy,  so  his  tnie 
 followers  must  be  prepared  to  undergo,  of  their  own  accord,  all 
 sufferings  and  shame.) 
 
 §  208. — Self-Dcnial  and  Self-!?amfice  further  illmfrafed. — Parable  of  the 
 buildhifj  of  the  Toim-.—  Of  the  Warring  Klnrj.  (Luke  xiv.  28-33.)— TAe 
 Sacrificial  Salt.  (Mark  ix.  49,  ^0.)—The  Treasure  hid  in  tlie  Field. — 
 The  Pearl  of  Great  Price.     (IMatt.  xiii.  44-46.) 
 
 Christ  then  made  use  of  various  comparisons  to  set  still 
 more  clearly  before  his  hearers  the  necessity  of  counting  the 
 cost,  of  fairly  contemplating  the  sacrifices  and  self-denial  which 
 his  service  required,  before  entering  upon  it.  Those  who  heed- 
 lessly neglected  this,  and  are  afterward  disgraced  by  shrinking 
 from  the  saciifices  demanded  of  them,  are  compared  to  a  man 
 that  sets  about  building  a  tower  without  calculating  the  ex- 
 pense, and  is  laughed  at  when  his  inability  to  finish  it  is  mani- 
 fested. Or  to  a  king,  who  rashly  goes  to  war  ■with  another  of 
 superior  power.  And  then,  again,  he  repeated  the  main 
 thought :  "  None  of  you,  that  foi'saketh  trot  all  that  lie  Iiath,  can 
 be  my  clisdpU.  Salt  is  good,  hut  if  tlve  salt  have  lost  its  savour, 
 wherewith  shall  it  be  seasoned?"  The  disciples  of  Christ,  the 
 salt  of  manldnd,  become  Lifeless — a  mere  appearance — without 
 self-sacrifice ;  the  salt  becomes  stale  and  worthless.^ 
 
 Kindred  to  this  is  the  passage  in  Mark  ix.  49,  50,  wliich, 
 considered  as  an  isolated  saying,  is  quite  obscure.  But  it  pro- 
 bably formed  part  of  one  of  Christ's  exhortations  to  his  disciples 
 during  this  latter  period  of  his  stay  with  them.  The  thought 
 which  it  contains  appears  to  me  to  be  this.  The  persecutions, 
 struggles,  and  sufferings  of  the  disciples  were  to  be  as  salt  to 
 presen-e  and  freshen  the  Di^dne  life  in  them ;  to  make  them 
 more  and  more  fit  sacrifices  to  be  consecrated  to  God.  But 
 (v.  50)  no  external  influences  could  thus  operate,  unless  the 
 element  of  the  inner  life,  in  truth,  exists;  the  salt  must  be 
 there,  the  spirit  of  self-sacrifice,  springing  from  the  Divine  life 
 ■«nthin,  before  outward  trials  can  sen*e  to  piirify  the  heart. 
 The  disciples  were,  therefore,  exhorted  to  keep  it  within  them, 
 and,  as  an  aid  thereto,  to  strengthen  each  other  in  the  Dirine 
 life  l)y  fellowship  of  heart.  "Have  salt  in  yourselves,  and  Juive 
 j)eace  one  vAt]i  another." 
 
 used  the  phrase  in  John.     Tlie  passaj^e  in  Matthew,  therefore,  may  be 
 taken  a.s  affording  a  similar  .Gense  ;  and  thus  John  and  the  Synoptical 
 Co8|iel3  .igree  in  stating  that  Christ  inthnated  the  mode  of  his  death, 
 f  Cf  p.  246. 
 
JESUS  REFUSES  TO  DTTERFERE  IN  CIVIL  DISPUTES.  343 
 
 The  same  thought,  \iz.  that  his  followers  must  be  prepared 
 to  sacrifice  eveiything  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  as  theu-  highest 
 good,  was  also  illustrated  by  the  parables  of  the  treasure  hid  in 
 t}i£  field,  and  the  pearl  of  great  price. 
 
 The  single  aim  of  the  first  parable  is  to  show  that  whoever 
 will  obtain  this  treasure  must  give  up  all  that  he  has  in  order 
 to  secure  it,  and  must  consider  all  other  possessions  valueless 
 in  comparison  with  this,  his  highest  good.  All  the  rest  is  the 
 colouring  of  the  picture,  to  give  impressiveness  to  this  one 
 thought.  The  same  thought  is  presented,  under  another  figure, 
 in  the  parable  of  the  costly  pearl.  It  is  probable,  however, 
 that  those  varying  foi-ms  of  illustration  were  used  to  describe 
 the  difil'vent  ways  by  which  men  reach  the  kingdom  of  God  ; 
 the  accidental  finder  of  the  treasure  in  the  field  corresponding 
 to  those  to  whom  the  proclamation  of  the  kingdom  comes  un- 
 sought and  imexpected ;  but  whom,  nevertheless,  it  finds  ready 
 to  receive  it,  and  to  saciifice  everytliing  when  its  revealed  gloiy 
 rouses  the  slumbering  Di\'ine  consciousness  within  them.  On 
 the  other  hand,  as  the  merchant  seeks  for  precious  pearls,  and, 
 after  repeated  search,  finds  one  of  surpassing  beatity  and  value ; 
 so  some,  impelled  by  anxious  longings,  pjursue  the  kingdom  of 
 God  with  restless  earnestness,  and  find  in  it  at  last,  to  the  joy 
 of  their  hearts,  that  precious  treasui-e  wliich  transcends  all 
 others,  however  valuable,  in  a  lower  sense,  they  may  be. 
 
 §  209. — Christ  refuges  to  interfere  in  Civil  Disputes.     (Luke  xii.  13-15.) — 
 His  Decision  in  the  Case  of  the  Adulteress. 
 
 It  was  natural  that  there  should  be  some,  among  the  num- 
 ber who  came  under  the  powei-ful  influence  of  Christ,  to  seek 
 from  his  authority  the  decision  of  questions  foreign  to  Ms  call- 
 ing. In  such  cases  he  refused  to  interfere ;  Ms  kingdom  was 
 to  rule  the  lieaHs  of  men ;  not  to  estabUsh  outward  law  or 
 equity.  On  a  certain  occasion,  ones  of  the  listening  crowd 
 a^ed  him  to  decide  a  dispute  between  himself  and  his  brother 
 in  regard  to  an  inheritance.  The  Saviour  repelled  him,  de- 
 chning  to  fix  the  Umits  of  ci\al  property  and  decide  in  ques- 
 tions of  civil  right;  so  important  did  he  consider  it  to  avoid 
 
 K  1  cannot  agree  in  Schhiermacher's  opinion,  that  this  was  one  of  those 
 whom  Christ  had  asked  to  follow  him.  Had  it  been  so,  Christ  would 
 doubtless  have  replied  to  him,  as  he  did  to  others,  that  his  followers  must 
 be  prepared  to  renounce  all  earthly  possessions.  It  was  not  at  aU  wonder- 
 fiil  that  a  man  who  recognized  in  Jesus  a  teacher  of  Di-\ane  authority, 
 should  ask  him  to  arbitrate  a  dispute  between  huuself  and  his  brother,  who 
 may  have  also  admitted  Christ's  authority. 
 
344  KETUKN  IHROUGH  SAJIARIA. 
 
 even  the  appearance  of  intermeddling  with  the  affairs  of  human 
 law  and  government.  And  in  the  light  of  his  conduct  in  this 
 case,  we  see  that  Christianity  is  not  directly  to  order  the  relar 
 tions  of  civil  society ;  this  outward  Divine  authority  is  foreign 
 to  its  calling.  Chiist  worked  only  in  his  own  sjjhere,  the 
 sphere  of  men's  hearts;  although,  indeed,  by  operating  upon 
 the  heart,  he  meant  to  operate  upon  eveiything  else ;  for  all 
 human  relations  gi-ow  out  of  it.  He  made  use  of  this  opjior- 
 tunity  (v.  15)  to  rebuke  covetousness,  the  soiu-ce  of  such  con- 
 tentious ;  to  show  the  vanity  of  earthly  wealth ;  and  to  point 
 out  the  heavenly  treasui'es  as  the  only  object  worth  men's 
 stii\dug  after. 
 
 The  case  which  follows  undoubtedly  belongs,  chronologically, 
 to  an  earlier  period,  not  precisely  determinable;  but  we  place 
 it  here  because  of  its  affinity,  in  a  certain  sense,  with  that  just 
 mentioned,  inasmuch  as  it  involved  a  question  of  outward 
 law.»' 
 
 At  a  period  before  the  open  and  decided  manifestation  of 
 hostility  on  the  part  of  the  Pharisees,  while  they  were  seeking 
 privately  to  attach  suspicion  to  Christ  as  the  friend  of  publi- 
 cans and  sinners,  they  brought  to  him  a  woman  taken  in  adul- 
 tery, and  asked  whether  she  ought  not  to  suffer  the  penalty  of 
 death  prescribed  by  the  Mosaic  law.  Had  he  ventured  to 
 pronounce  her  free,  as  they  perhaps  expected  from  liis  well- 
 known  gentleness  to  sinners,  their  object  would  have  been 
 gained ;  they  might  have  involved  him  in  a  dispute  with  the 
 law  of  Moses.  As  the  question  was  foreign  to  his  sphere,  he 
 at  first  paid  no  attention,  but  stooped,  and  wrote  upon  the 
 ground.  They  pressed  the  point,  however,  and  he  then  drew 
 the  question  out  of  the  sphere  of  law  into  that  of  morality, 
 
 *•  [There  has  been  much  dispute  about  the  authenticity  of  the  account  of 
 the  adulterous  woman  ;  John  viii.  1-11.]  We  think,  both  from  internal 
 and  external  grounds,  that  it  does  not  belong  to  John's  Gospel  (see  Liicke 
 on  tho  passage)  ;  perhaps  its  insertion  there  was  suggested  by  ^^ii.  15. 
 liut  in  all  essential  features  it  bears  the  stamp  of  truth  and  originality. 
 If  invented  at  all,  it  must  have  been  by  the  Marcionites  ;  but  in  that  case 
 it  would  have  been  coloured  more  highly  with  opposition  to  the  Mosaic 
 law  ;  nor  could  an  invention  of  theirs  have  found  such  general  currency  in 
 the  Catholic  Church.  The  difficulties  consist  more  in  the  fonn  than  in  the 
 substance  of  the  narrative  ;  and  even  these  can  he  readily  overcome  As 
 to  the  account  in  Evany,  ad  Jlcbrceon  (Eus.  iii.  39)  of  a  woman  accused  of 
 many  sins  before  the  Saviour,  we  know  too  little  about  it  to  decide  whether 
 it  was  true  and  original,  or  a  mere  exaggeration  either  of  the  one  before  us 
 in  John,  or  of  the  other  account  of  the  sinful  woman  who  anointed  the 
 feet  of  Jesus  (p.  227);  or  whether  it  arose  from  a  blending  of  the  two 
 together. 
 
PARABLES  OF  THE  MUSTARD  SEED  AND  OP  THE  LEAVEN,    345 
 
 wliich  was  propex'Iy  his  own.  Looking  round  upon  them  with 
 all  his  majesty  of  mien,  he  said,  "i/^e  that  is  tmthout  sin  among 
 you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her!" 
 
 It  is  true,  that  from  the  stand-2)oint  of  law  the  moral  cha- 
 racter of  the  judge  is  of  no  account;  it  is  the  law  alone  that 
 judges.  But  from  the  stand-point  of  morality,  he  that  con- 
 demns another  (i.  e.  the  sinner,  not  merely  the  sin)  while 
 conscious  of  sin  himself,  though  of  another  kind,  pronounces 
 liis  own  condemnation  (Rom.  ii.  1).  His  ovra.  conscience 
 bears  witness  against  him.  In  this  case,  therefore,  Christ  ap- 
 pealed to  the  consciences  of  the  accusers,  not  only  to  dispose 
 them  to  leniency,  but  also  to  awaken  in  them  a  common  sense 
 of  sin,  and  need  of  pardon  and  redemption.  To  the  woman, 
 who  was  bowed  down  under  the  burden  of  sin,  he  said,  "JVei- 
 t/ier  do  I  condemn  tJiee;"  cautioning  her,  at  the  same  time,  to 
 guard  against  falling  again  into  ti'ansgression. 
 
 §  210.—  Ch'ist'a  Intimations  of  the  Future. 
 The  discourses  of  Christ  in  the  course  of  this  journey  reveal 
 to  us  the  topic  on  which  his  thoughts  were  chiefly  occupied  at 
 this  critical  period.  In  the  spiritual  results  of  lus  preaching, 
 he  saw  the  earnest  of  that  new  creation  which  was  to  follow 
 his  death.  Knowing  all  that  lay  before  him  at  Jerusalem,  he 
 went  on  to  meet  his  death  in  conflict  with  the  representatives 
 of  the  depraved  spirit  of  the  world  at  Jerusalem ;  yet  contem- 
 I>lating  with  joy  the  progress  of  liis  kingdom,  for  which  this 
 self-sacrifice  was  to  pave  the  way.  At  the  same  time  com- 
 menced those  vehement  emotions  of  soul  wliich  afterward, 
 under  various  and  painful  excitements  from  without,  grew 
 stx'onger  and  strongei',  \mtil  Ids  final  and  triumphant  "  It  is 
 finished  !" 
 
 §  211. — Parables  of  the  Mustard  Seed  and  of  the  Leavm.  (Luke  xiii. 
 18-21.) — Points  of  Agreement  and  Difference. — Compared  with  the  Parable 
 of  the  Ripening  Grain.     (Mark  iv.  2G.) 
 
 Christ  recognized  in  the  little  circle  that  gathered  around 
 him  the  germ  of  a  community  which  was  to  embrace  all  na- 
 tions. Piercing  the  veil  wliich  obscured  the  future  from 
 ordinaiy  eyes,  he  saw  the  spiritual  life  of  manldnd  in  all  its 
 relations  revolutionized  by  the  power  of  his  word.  A  total 
 change  in  the  disciples'  mode  of  thinking  was  in  preparation ; 
 the  truth  they  had  received  was  to  be  freed  from  the  many 
 foreign  elements  that  yet  encumbered  it.  Thus  the  Di\ano 
 word  was  to  work  both  extensively  and  intensively.    These  forms 
 
346  RETURN  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 of  its  operation  he  illustrated  by  the  parables  of  the  musUvrd 
 seed  and  tlie  leaven.^ 
 
 The  point  in  wliich  the  two  parables  agree  is,  the  designating 
 of  the  power  vnth  which  the  kingdom  of  God,  where  the  truth 
 has  once  been  received,  develops  itself  outwardly  from  within ; 
 the  gi'eatest  results  proceeding  fi-om  apparently  the  most  in- 
 significant beginnings.  The  point  in  which  they  differ  is,  that 
 the  development  illustrated  in  the  parable  of  the  mustard  seed 
 is  more  exteiisive,  in  that  of  the  leaven  more  intensive;  in  the 
 foi'mer  is  shown  the  power  with  which  the  Church,  so  feeble 
 in  its  beginning,  spreads  over  all  the  earth ;  in  the  latter,  the 
 principle  of  Divine  life  in  Chi'istianity  renews  human  nature, 
 in  all  its  parts  and  powers,  after  its  own  image,  to  become  its 
 own  organ;  thus  illustrating  the  gro^vth  of  religion,  not  only 
 in  the  I'ace,  but  also  in  individual  men. 
 
 Here  we  notice,  also,  a  parableJ  preserved  to  us  by  Mark 
 alone  (iv.  26).  "So  is  the  khigdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man  should 
 cast  seed  into  tlie  ground;  and  shoidd  sleep,  and  fise  night  and 
 day,  and  tJie  seed  should  spnng  and  grow  up,  lie  hnoioeth  not 
 how.  For  the  earth  hi'ingeth  forth  fruit  of  herself ;  first  tite  hlnde, 
 then  tlie  ear,  after  that  the  full  corn  in  tlie  ear.  But  when  the 
 grain  is  rijje,  immediately  he  2nMeth  in  tJie  sickle,  because  tlie 
 harvest  is  come."  Christ  obviously  intended  by  this  parable  to 
 impress  upon  the  disciples  that  tlieir  duty  was  to  preach  the 
 word  [not  to  make  it  fiTiitful] ;  that  where  the  truth  was  once 
 implanted  in  the  heart,  its  growth  was  independent  of  human 
 agency;  unfolding  itself  by  its  own  inherent  Di^-ine  power,  it 
 would  gradually  accomplish  the  transformation  of  hiiman 
 nature  into  that  perfection  for  wliich  God  designed  it  [thafidl 
 corn  in  the  ear].  The  preachers  of  truth  are  instruments  of  a 
 power  whose  effects  they  cannot  measui'e.  If  they  only  preach 
 the  word,  and  do  notliing  further  to  it,  it  will  by  its  own 
 efficacy  produce  in  men  a  new  creation,  which  they  must  be- 
 
 '  Luke  gives  these  parables  in  the  connexion  we  have  assigned  to  them. 
 In  Matthew  they  are  placed  along  with  others  of  a  very  different  character, 
 only  agreeing  in  the  one  point  of  general  bearing  upon  the  kingdom  of 
 God.     On  the  arrangement  of  the  parables,  cf  p.  113. 
 
 J  This  parable  bears  the  undeniable  stamp  of  originality,  both  in  its 
 matter  and  form  ;  so  that  we  cannot  consider  it  as  a  variation  of  one  of  the 
 other  jiarables  of  the  growing  seed.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that,  just  as  in 
 the  different  narratives  of  the  same  discourse  given  in  the  first  three  Gos- 
 pels, one  Evangelist  preserves  one  portion,  and  another  another  :  fo  in 
 regard  to  these  parables  illustrative  of  the  intensive  operation  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God,  Mark  alone  has  preserved  the  one  of  the  ripeninq  corn,  omitting 
 the  leaven;  while  Matthew  and  Luke  give  the  latter,  omitting  the  former. 
 
THE  FIRE  TO  BE  KINDLED.  347 
 
 hold  with  amazement  (v.  27).  No  words  could  have  more 
 pointedly  opposed  the  prevalent  camal  notions  of  the  Jews  in 
 regard  to  the  nature  of  Messiah's  kingdom,  or  have  more  effec- 
 tually rebuked  the  tendency  to  ascribe  too  much  to  human 
 agencies,  and  too  little  to  the  substantive  power  of  the  word 
 itself 
 
 §  212.— TJic  Fire  to  he  lindled.—  The  Baptism  of  Suffenngi^.—CJaistianity 
 not  PecKC,  but  a  Sword.     (Luke  xii.  49-53.) 
 
 "/  am  come  to  send  fire  upon  the  earth;  and  loJuit  loill  I 
 (more),  if  it  he  cdready  kindled  V  As  he  had  compared  the  per- 
 vading and  rene-\ving  power  of  the  word  of  truth  to  the  leaven, 
 so  here,  as  that  word  sends  forth  a  lioly  flame,  wliich  is  to  seize 
 upon  human  nature  and  burn  out  all  its  dross  and  impuiity — 
 inextinguishable  until  it  has  enveloped  all  mankind — he  com- 
 pares it  to  a  fixe  kindled  by  himself,  whose  unquenchable 
 flames  he  already  sees  bursting  forth.  "What  will  I  more?" 
 says  he  ;  "the  object  of  my  ministry  on  earth  is  so  far  accom- 
 plished." 
 
 But  jifter  speaking  thus  of  what  had  been  already  done,  he 
 passed  on  to  what  remained  for  the  fidfilment  of  his  work,  viz. 
 the  sufferings  that  were  awaiting  him.  These  he  betokens  by 
 a  baptism  which  he  must  iindei-go ;  partly,  perhaps,  in  view  of 
 the  multitude  of  afllictions  that  were  to  overwhelm  him,'' 
 and  partly  in  \dew  of  baptism  as  a  religious  symbol,  and  of  the 
 baptism  of  sufering  as  his  last  and  perfect  consecration  as 
 Messiah  and  Redeemer;  just  as  John's  baptism  was  the  first 
 and  preparatory  one.  "/  have  yet  a  baptism  [of  sufiering]  to 
 he  hap)tized  with,  amd  how  sorely  am  I  'pained  tmtU  it  he  accom- 
 plished."^ 
 
 ^  To  "immerse  himself  in  sufferings." 
 
 '  The  common  interpretation  of  these  two  verses  (which  is  certainly  a 
 possible  one)  considers  the  two  members  as  co-ordinate — ri  ^eXu)  as  cor- 
 responding to  vioQ  ffvvsxoi^cti-  ',  a-nd  £1  yCT}  ari}(p6r]  to  smq  oii  reXiffOj};  "I 
 am  come  to  send  a  fire  on  the  earth,  and  how  do  I  wish  it  were  already 
 kindled  !  but  I  have  still  the  baptism  of  suffering  to  undergo,  and  how  am 
 I  pained  until  it  be  fulfilled."  This  places  the  whole  in  the  future.  And, 
 in  a  certain  sense,  indeed,  Christ  might  have  said  that  the  fire  which  he 
 came  to  light  among  men  was  not  as  yet  kindled ;  for  the  great  crisis 
 which  Christianity  was  to  produce  in  humanity  had  not  as  yet  come.  In 
 this  sense  of  the  passage,  it  expresses  Christ's  longing  for  this  crisis ;  for 
 the  accomplishment  of  his  work  as  Saviour  by  the  consecration  of  his 
 sufferings.  But  we  think,  in  view  of  the  parables  of  the  mustard  seed, 
 the  leaven,  and  the  ripening  com,  that  he  alluded  in  the  first  clause  to 
 what  had  been  done  ;  the  fire  burned  already,  though  but  glimmering  in 
 secret,  in  the  hearts  of  those  that  received  his  preaching  as  the  word  of 
 eternal  life.     The  words  ri  Si\w  are  thus  interpreted  more  naturally ; 
 
3-iS  RETUKN  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 In  tliis  saying,  also,  Christ  contradicted  the  prevailing  idea 
 that  the  Messiah  was  to  "work  an  outwai'd  revolution.  The 
 preached  word  itself  was  the  mighty  flame  which  Avas  to  pro- 
 duce such  wonderful  effects  among  mankind.  He  was  not  to 
 end  his  labours  by  coming  forwaxxl  to  subdue  his  foes  and  glo- 
 rify his  reign  by  miraculous  power;  his  victory  consisted  in 
 his  being  overcome  by  sufteiiug  and  death.  And  he  warned 
 his  disciples,  in  addition  (v.  51,  52),  not  to  imagine  that  he 
 would  leave  them  to  enjoy  outward  peace ;  fiir  from  it ;  the 
 truth  of  God  was  to  be  a  separating  power,  to  cause  the 
 sliarpest  strifes  in  nations  and  in  families.  The  dearest  natural 
 ties  were  to  be  sundered  by  his  ti-ue  disciples  (v.  53),  for  the 
 sake  of  the  kingdom  of  God.'"  The  higher  unity  of  Christian- 
 ity was  to  shape  itself  out  of  the  midst  of  discords  and  contra- 
 dictions. So  clearly  had  ChrLst  at  that  time  before  his  eyes 
 the  eftects  subsequently  produced  everywhere  by  Chi'istianity 
 in  the  life  of  nations  and  of  families. 
 
 §  21 3. — The  Kingdom  of  God  cometh  not  wiih  Ohsen-ation.  (Luke  xvii.  20.) 
 When  the  Pharisees  demanded  of  liim  when  the  kingdom  of 
 God  should  appear,  he  assured  them,  "T/oe  kingdom  of  God 
 co7)ieth  not  loith  outward  show "  (cannot  be  outwai-dly  seen  by 
 human  eyes); '1  "iieither  shall  tliey  say,  La  liere!  or,  Lo  tlieret 
 for,  heliold,  t/ie  kingdom  of  God  is  among  you^^ 
 
 though,  as  we  have  said,  the  other  rendering  is  not  impossible  (Matt.  vii. 
 14,  cannot  decide  the  question,  as  the  reading  of  that  passage  is  doubtful). 
 The  ck  in  v.  50  is  adversative,  according  to  our  vnew,  which,  by  the  way, 
 was  adopted  (among  the  ancients)  by  Euthymius  Zigabcnus.  Tlie  word 
 avvixofiai,  thus  apprehended,  was  Christ's  first  expression  of  his  struggles 
 of  soul  in  view  of  the  approach  of  death.  ""  Cf  Matt.  x.  34,  seq. 
 
 "  The  antithesis  is,  that  it  reveals  itself  invisibly,  so  as  to  be  seen  only 
 by  the  eye  of  faith. 
 
 "  The  words  ivrog  vfiCiv  may,  indeed,  mean  "within  you,"  as  they  are 
 commonly  interpreted  ;  but  this  would  not  suit  the  persons  addressed,  for 
 they  were  as  yet  strangers  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  the  foundation  of  faith 
 not  having  been  laid  in  tlieir  hearts.  The  pjvssage,  thus  understood,  would 
 liave  been  applicable  only  to  believers.  Clirist  would  not  have  expressed 
 liimself  in  a  way  so  liable  to  misconstruction  and  perversion  on  the  j>art  of 
 the  Pharisees.  Had  he  meant  to  tell  tliem  that  the  kingdom  of  God  nntst 
 be  prepared  within  their  hearts,  he  would  have  warned  them,  instead  of 
 looking  for  its  outward  appearance,  to  strive  to  fit  tliemsclves  for  it  by 
 laying  the  only  basis  of  which  it  admitted,  in  the  di.spositions  of  their 
 liearts.  Everything  is  clear  and  natural,  if  we  take  the  words  in  the  sense 
 that  we  have  assigned  to  them  :  "  The  kingdom  of  God  is  in  your  midst,  if 
 you  will  only  recognize  it.  You  must  not  seek  at  a  distance  what  is  already 
 near  ;  the  kingdom  of  God  has  come  in  my  ministry  :  and  all  that  l)elieve 
 on  me  belong  to  it."    This  agrees  also  with  his  usual  mode  of  treating  the 
 
THE  SECOND  ADVENT.  34:9 
 
 §  21i. — The  Personal  Return  of  Christ  to  the  Earth,  and  the  Day  of  Judg- 
 ment.    (Luke  xvii.  22-37.) 
 
 Having  thus  pointed  out  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was 
 manifested  in  his  own  appearance,  Chi^ist  turned  directly  to 
 the  disciples,  and  told  them  (v.  22)  that  the  time  would  come 
 when  they  should  look  back  longingly  upon  the  daj's  of  their 
 personal  intercourse  with  Mm,  and  wish,  though  in  vain,  to 
 have  him  even  for  one  day  in  their  midst.  But  (v.  2.3,  2-i)  as 
 this  longing  might  lay  them  open  to  deception  (as,  in  fact,  at  a 
 later  period,  their  anxious  yearnings  did  lead  them  to  expect 
 his  pei'sonal  return  too  soon),  he  warned  them  against  this 
 danger.  "  Do  not  suffer  yourselves  to  be  deceived  by  false 
 reports  of  my  return ;  when  it  comes,  it  \\Tdl  be  as  the  lightning 
 that  flashes  suddenly  from  one  end  of  the  sky  to  another, 
 dazzhng  all  men's  eyes;  none  need  point  it  out  to  others; 
 none  can  fail  to  see  it,  or  deny  its  approach." p 
 
 To  obviate  all  carnal  expectations,  he  then  told  them  (v.  25) 
 that  "He  must  first  suffer  many  things,  and  he  rejected  of  this 
 generation;"  and  that,  when  the  glorified  Son  of  Man  should 
 appear  to  judge  a  cornipt  world  (v.  26-32),  in  that  day  of 
 trial  and  sifting  that  was  to  precede  the  consummation  of  the 
 kingdom,  he  would  take  men  unawares,  and  surprise  sinners  in 
 their  lusts.  He  presented  the  whole  in  one  view  before  them, 
 without  distinguishing  the  sepai'ate  moments.^  His  object 
 was  to  g\iard  them  against  both  premature  expectations  and 
 arbitrary  calculations  upon  the  character  of  the  final  decision ; 
 to  impress  them  with  the  importance  of  being  always  prepared, 
 both  in  heart  and  in  life,  by  that  self-denial  and  renunciation 
 of  the  world  (v.  33)  which  he  always  made  the  necessaiy  con- 
 dition of  entering  into  his  kingdom.  He  then  pointed  out 
 (v.  34-3G)  the  fanning  jirocess  by  which  the  distinctive  charac- 
 tei's  of  men  in  the  same  relations  of  life  would  be  revealed; 
 "  one  shall  be  taken  (saved  and  received  into  the  kingdom) 
 and  another  left"  (to  the  judgment  of  God  ;  not  removed  from 
 it).     As  tliis  last  expression  (though  intelligible  enough  from 
 
 Pharisees  ;  he  always  pointed  out  to  ihem  the  true  meaning  of  his  appear- 
 ance.    Cf.  Matt.  xii.  28  ;  and  p.  26],  scq. 
 
 P  Christ  here  declares  that  his  actual  coming  would  not  follow  the  analogy 
 of  earthly  manifestations  ;  and  this  ought  to  have  been  enough  to  hinder 
 believing  dogmatists  from  seeking  to  define  its  character  too  accurately, 
 and  from  adhering  too  closely  to  the  letter  of  some  of  the  expressions  of  the 
 Apostles,  who  could  themselves  as  yet  have  had  no  adequate  intuition  of 
 its  precise  nature. 
 
 1  See  below,  where  we  speak  of  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
350  KETUKN  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 the  connexion)  was  somewhat  obscure,  the  disciples  asked  him, 
 "  Left  ?  where,  Lord  1 "  He  replied,  "  W/ieresoever  the  carcase 
 is,  tliither  loill  the  eagles  he  gathered  together'''^  (condemnation 
 wiU  fall  upon  those  that  have  deserved  it). 
 
 §  215. — Exhortation  to  Watch  for  Christ's  Ccymiwj  (Luke  xii.  36-48)  to 
 Confidence  in  the  Divine  Justice. — The  Importunate  Widow.  (Luke,  xviii.  1.) 
 
 On  another  occasion,  when  surrounded  by  a  larger  circle  of 
 disciples,  Christ  exhorted  the  faithful  to  watch  for  the  time 
 when  he  would  return  from  his  glory  in  heaven  and  demand 
 an  accoimt  of  their  stewardsliip.  How  earnestly  he  .sought 
 to  guard  them  against  all  attempts  to  determine  the  precise 
 time  of  his  coming,  is  manifest  from  liis  declaiming  that  it  was 
 just  as  uncertain  as  the  moment  when  a  thief  would  break 
 into  the  house  at  night.  It  might  be  deferred,  he  told  them, 
 until  the  night  was  far  spent — even  to  the  tliird  watch. ^  Very 
 naturally  Peter  (conscious  of  his  position  and  that  of  the  other 
 Apostles)  here  intemipted  Jesus  with  the  question,  whether 
 the  parable  was  spoken  in  reference  to  the  naiTower  circle  of 
 disciples  in  particular,  or  to  all  that  were  present.  The  reply 
 of  Christ  (v.  47,  48)  was,  in  effect,  that  the  greater  one's  know- 
 ledge, the  greater  his  guilt,  if  that  knowledge  be  not  improved. 
 On  this  principle  the  Apostles  could  decide  for  themselves  the 
 relation  in  which  they  stood  to  othere. 
 
 Christ  exhorted  his  followers,  in  all  their  struggles  with  the 
 sins  of  mankind,  to  trust  in  the  justice  of  their  heavenly 
 Father,  who  would  judge  between  them  and  a  persecuting 
 world  (Luke  xviii.  1,  se(|.) ;  and  to  seek  support  and  encom-age- 
 ment  in  prayer.  If  a  judge  to  whom  nothing  is  sacred  does 
 justice  to  the  persevering  widow,  simply  to  get  rid  of  her 
 importunity,  how  could  God  leave  unheard  the  contmued 
 prayers  of  his  chosen  ones  invoking  his  justice?  Though  His 
 forbearance  may  seem  like  delay,  liis  justice  will  not  fail;  "He 
 ivUl  avenge  tliem  speedily.'"^  The  decision  of  the  Divine  justice 
 between  the  degenei-ate  Theocratic  nation  and  the  new  and 
 
 '  Luke  xvii.  37,  gives  the  natural  connexion  of  these  words  ;  in  Matt, 
 xxiv.  28,  they  are  placed  with  many  other  similar  passages  referring  to  this 
 last  crisis. 
 
 •  It  is  clear  that  Paul  had  these  words  of  Christ  in  view  in  1  These,  v.  1. 
 
 '  We  cannot  see  a  clear  correspondence  between  Luke  xviii.  1,  .and  what 
 follows.  The  whole  passage  exhorts  to  confidence  in  God's  justice,  no 
 matter  what  wrong  we  may  see  done  ;  not  to  praying  always  ;  for  constant 
 prayer  has  another  aim  and  object.  It  is  presupposed  that  thu.so  who  are 
 addressed  pray,  like  cliildren,  to  their  heavenly  Fatlier  ;  but  they  are 
 exhorted  not  to  waver,  il'  the  answer  to  their  prayers  be  delayed. 
 
THE  STRAIT  GATE.  351 
 
 genuine  congregation  of  God  was,  indeed,  to  prepare  its  course 
 more  and  more  rapidly. 
 
 To  long  for  a  revelation  of  Divine  justice  before  all  the 
 world,  and  for  the  time  when  He  shall  judge  between  the 
 good  and  the  bad,  is  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  prayer  for  the 
 salvation  of  the  enemies  of  his  kingdom,  as  enjoined  both  by 
 Christ's  teaching  and  example.  The  combination  of  the  two 
 is  a  thoroughly  Chi'istian  one. 
 
 The  Saviour  finally  put  the  question  whether,  under  the 
 delays  of  Divine  justice,  all  that  beUeved  on  him  would  hold 
 fast  theii-  integrity ;  whether  the  Son  of  Man  would  find  faith 
 remaining  in  them  all  when  he  should  reveal  himself  to  his 
 Church  a  second  time.^^ 
 
 §  216. — Call  to  entire  Devotion. — The  Strait  Gate  and  iJie  Narrow  Way. — 
 Heathen  admitted  to  the  Kinrjdom  of  Heaven.     (Luke  xiii.  24-28.) 
 
 The  hosts  that  gathered  about  the  Saviour  at  this  period 
 were  exhorted  to  make  good  use  of  the  short  time  remaining 
 to  them  to  repent  and  believe,  in  order  to  escape  the  Divine 
 judgments  that  were  so  soon  to  break  upon  the  Jewish  people. 
 Such  as  were  not  hostile,  and  even  rejoiced  in  his  society,  were 
 told  not  to  rest  upon  his  personal  presence  (v.  26),  or  upon 
 then-  superficial  interest  in  him.  All  this  would  do  no  good 
 (he  told  them)  unless  his  woi-d  were  tndy  received  and 
 applied;  unless  they  sought  earnestly,  by  self-denial  and  self- 
 sacrifice,  to  enter  the  kingdom  to  which  no  road  leads  but  this 
 narrow  and  toilsome  way.'^'  '■'■Many  will  seek  to  enter  in,  and 
 shaU  not  he  able.'''  Not  those  who  seek  aright ;  but  those  who 
 seek,  without  the  heart  or  the  ^vill,  to  ftdfil  the  essential  con- 
 dition of  entire  self-denial. 
 
 Thus  the  one  truth  proclaimed  by  Christ  presents  opposite 
 aspects  under  opposite  cu-cumstances.  To  oppressed  and  weary 
 souls,  groaning  under  the  heavy  burdens  imposed  by  the  Pha- 
 
 "  Luke  xviii.  8.  Tliis  was  probably  the  sense  of  the  words  in  this  con- 
 nexion ;  we  must  remember  the  various  ap[)lioations  of  wliich  the  phrase 
 "  the  coming  of  the  8ou  of  Man"  admits,  and  in  the  intentional  indefinite- 
 ness  in  wliich  it  was  left.  It  may  be  applied  either  to  his  spiritual  or  his 
 personal  self-manifestation  in  the  progress  of  human  affeirs  and  of  the 
 Church.  At  all  events,  wo  find  no  ground  to  suppose  (as  some  do)  that 
 the  passage  was  modified  at  a  later  jjeriod,  when  men  were  running  to  and 
 fro  in  perplexity  of  opinion  about  the  second  advent  of  Christ.  The  pro- 
 phetic description  of  the  List  days  given  by  Paul  presupposes  that  intima- 
 tions of  the  same  had  been  thrown  out  by  Jesus.  It  is  more  likely  that 
 the  words  were  transferred  fi-om  some  other  connexion  in  which  Christ 
 really  spoke  of  his  second  advent,  than  that  they  were  thus  modified  at  an 
 after  period.  "  Cf.  p.  255. 
 
352  RETURN  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 risees,  he  describes  Ids  yoke  as  mild  and  easy — easy  to  those 
 that  love — in  comparison  Avith  the  yoke  of  the  law ;  ^^  while  to 
 those  who  are  yet  in  bondage  to  the  worid  of  sense,  and  expect 
 to  find  lus  sei'rice  easy,  he  represents  it  as  painfid  and  labo- 
 rious. Everytliing  depends  upon  the  heart  and  the  motives ; 
 what  is  hard  to  one  is  easy  to  another. 
 
 In  further  contrast  with  the  disposition  to  look  merely  at 
 outward  relations,  he  announced  prophetically  (v.  28),  that 
 while  many  who  gloried  in  theu'  personal  intercourse  with  him 
 might  be  excluded  from  the  kingdom  for  want  of  fellowship  of 
 spirit  with  him,  many,  on  the  other  hand,  from  all  quarters  of 
 ^e  world,  should  be  called  to  enter  in. 
 
 §  217. — The  Signs  of  tJte  Times.  (Luke  xii.  54.) 
 Others,  again,  were  referred  by  Christ  to  the  signs  of  tlie 
 times  to  learn  the  import  of  his  appearance,  and  wliat  awaited 
 them  if  they  neglected  it.  As  they  could  know  from  a  cloud 
 in  the  west  that  a  storm  was  approaching,  and  from  the  blow- 
 ing of  the  south  wind  that  there  wovdd  be  heat ;  so  (he  told 
 them),  if  they  would  observe  the  signs  of  histoiy  as  carefully 
 as  tho.se  of  natui-e,  they  coidd  discern  the  approaching  judg- 
 ments of  God  from  the  phenomena  of  the  times.  But  this 
 was  precisely  their  guilt  (v.  56),  that  in  their  heedless  folly 
 they  gave  no  thought  to  these  indications  of  the  e\'il  that  was 
 nigh.  He  called  them  hypocintes,  either  because  they  affected 
 to  plead  ignorance  wliile  the  means  of  knowledge  were  ^^■ithin 
 their  reach,  and  lacked  the  disposition  to  see,  not  the  ability; 
 or  because,  while  the  j^'^sent  was  serious,  and  i\\Q  future  tlu'eat- 
 ening,  thoy  were  utterly  unconscious  of  the  value  of  intercourse 
 with  him,  fi-om  their  folly  in  neglecting  tlie  signs  of  the  times, 
 and  now  sought  him  under  the  impulse  of  a  merely  transient 
 excitement.^ 
 
 "  Cf.  p.  218. 
 
 *  Cf.  Matt.  xvi.  1.  In  a  very  similar  discourse  the  Pharisees  demanded 
 a  sign  from  heaven,  to  accredit  his  calling  ;  he  told  them  severely,  that  if 
 they  would  only  consider  the  sign  of  his  whole  manifestation,  in  connexion 
 with  the  signs  given  by  God  in  the  events  of  the  times,  they  would  make  no 
 such  demand.  They  could  foretell  the  weather  from  the  clouds  and  sky  ; 
 but  would  not  see  in  the  events  around  them  the  signs  of  the  coming  crisis, 
 the  approach  of  the  kingdom  and  judgment  of  God.  "  This  fallen  gene- 
 ration seeks  a  sign  from  heaven,  but  no  sign  shall  be  given  to  it  l)ut  the 
 sign  of  the  prophet  Jonah  ;  the  whole  appearance  of  Christ,  which  annouces 
 to  them,  as  Jonah  did  to  the  Ninevites,  the  Divine  judgments  over  their 
 corrupt  city,  calling  them  to  repent."  His  manifestation  was  aljove  all 
 other  signs  of  the  times,  and  they  might  discern  what  was  coming  from  it. 
 He  calls  them  hypocrites  because,  for  want  of  a  right  spirit,  tliey  would  not 
 
JEWISH  THEODICY  REJECTED.  353 
 
 "  Yea,  and  why  even  of  yourselves  judge  ye  not  tohat  is  right /v 
 When  thou  goest  with  thine  adversary''  etc.  (v.  58).  (Why  mitst 
 another  point  out  to  them  what  they  ought  to  know  them- 
 selves, \\z.  that  they  should  agi'ee  with  the  Messiah  while  he 
 was  yet  with  them  on  earth  1  since  he  would  otherwise  become 
 their  accuser  before  God,^  and  make  it  impossible  to  escape  the 
 penalty  they  so  justly  deserved  =' — an  allusion  to  the  terrible 
 lot  which  the  JeA\ash  people  procured  for  themselves.) 
 
 §  218. — The  Contracted  Jewish  Theodicy  Rejected.  (Luke  xiii.  1-5.) 
 Certain  sad  events  of  the  times  wei*e  emi^loyed  by  Christ  as 
 ty]ies  and  warnings  of  the  future.  It  was  reported  to  him 
 that  Pilate  had  caused  several  Galileans  to  be  slain  wliile 
 ofi'ering  sacrifices  in  the  Temple.  The  details  of  the  case  are 
 unknown  to  us ;  whether  it  was  carelessly  reported  by  persons 
 who  did  not  know  its  connexion  Avith  the  whole  sad  and 
 terrible  course  of  events  into  which  the  guilt  of  the  nation 
 was  hurrying  it ;  or  whether  they  considered,  accortling  to  tlie 
 contracted  notions  of  the  Jews  in  regard  to  the  avenging 
 justice  of  God,  that  these  Galileans  deserved  this  wT.-etched 
 fate.''  In  answering  them,  Christ  declared  that  guilt  was 
 common  to  the  whole  people,  and  that  unless  they  became 
 convinced  of  it  and  repented,  they  might  all  expect  destiiiction. 
 A  tower,  also,  had  fallen  upon  several  persons  in  Jerasalem 
 and  killed  them;  but  tliis,  he  told  them,  did  not  prove  any 
 marked  guilt  on  the  part  of  the  unfortunate  sufferers,  but  was 
 
 see  the  signs  before  their  eyes ;  which  very  fact  was  the  cause  of  their 
 seeking  a  sign  from  heaven.  Tliis  is  very  similar  to  the  discourse  in  Luke, 
 and  Christ  might  very  well  have  uttered  both  in  separate  but  similar  con- 
 nexions. The  connexion  is  entirely  apt  in  both  Evangelists,  though  not 
 so  obvious  in  Luke.  To  be  sure,  the  one  in  Matthew  follows  immetliately 
 after  tlie  unhistorical  second  feeding  of  4,000,  but  the  question  in  xvi.  1, 
 afforded  a  very  suitable  occasion  for  it ;  whether  the  occasion  was  the  same 
 as  that  mentioned  on  p.  26C,  or  a  different  one.  It  is  very  possible  that 
 the  question  and  answer  occuiTed  twice. 
 
 y  It  is  true  that  v.  57  will  admit  of  ScJdeicrmacJier's  interpretation,  viz. 
 "niat  which  they  might  know  of  themselves  from  within  in  contrast  to 
 the  signs  of  the  times  withcjut."  But  does  not  what  follows  2:)re-suppose 
 that  they  had  already  learned  from  the  signs  of  the  times  the  true  import 
 of  Christ's  appearance,  and  thercfwe  could  easily  decide  for  themselves  what 
 line  of  conduct  to  pursue  in  order  to  escape  the  impending  judgments  of 
 God. 
 
 *  In  so  far,  namely,  that  their  guilt  laj'  in  their  conduct  towards  him. 
 
 *  The  paraboUc  comparison  in  its  complete  form  is  given  in  Luke  xii. 
 58,  59,  and  in  its  proper  connexion,  but  not  in  Matt.  v.  25,  26.  Cf  p.  251. 
 It  is  obvious  that  the  passage  has  no  reference,  as  has  been  erroneously 
 supposed,  to  the  state  of  man  after  death.  •»  See  p.  327. 
 
354  RETURN  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 rather  a  sign  of  tlie  universal  wretchedness  which  the  guilt  of 
 the  whole  people  was  to  biing  upon  them. 
 
 §  219. — The  Parable  of  Dives  and  Zazartcs.  (Luke  xvi.  19-31.) 
 The  Avorldly  spirit,  suppressing  all  sense  of  laigher  interests, 
 was  the  chief  cause  of  the  unbeUef  or  inattention  of  the  eye- 
 witnesses of  Cln-ist's  labours.  In  the  pai'able  of  Dives  and 
 Lazarus,  Christ  showed  that  no  miracles  or  revelations  could 
 lead  a  thoroughly  worldly  mind  to  repentance  and  faith;  that 
 change  of  nature  was  indispensably  necessaiy.  Impressions 
 made  ujDon  such  minds  from  without  coidd  be  but  transient 
 and  superficial.  The  disposition  with  which  a  given  gi-ace  is 
 used  is  the  one  important  element ;  and  theu'  bearing  towards 
 Christ's  revelations  ought  to  correspond  to  the  regard  which 
 they  professed  to  entertain  for  those  of  the  Old  Testament. 
 
 The  prominent  thought  in  the  parable  Ls  this:  "He  that 
 oould  not  be  awakened  to  repentance  by  Moses  and  the  pro- 
 phets coidd  not  be  by  the  re-appearance  of  the  dead."'^  Tlie 
 subordinate  point  is  the  contrast  between  the  rich  man  and 
 Lazarus ;  the  former,  representing  those  who  seek  then-  highest 
 good  in  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  and  are  thereby  excluded 
 from  the  kingdom  of  God,  forming  tlie  principal  figure.  Laza- 
 rus serves  as  a  foil  to  the  worldly  rich  man ;  but  it  must  yet 
 be  remembered  that  the  kingdom  found  the  hearts  of  rich  men 
 far  less  accessible  than  those  of  the  humbly  poor  like  Lazanis ; 
 for  the  very  reason  that  their  feelings  and  dispositions  were 
 precisely  those  of  the  Dives  of  the  parable.'^ 
 
 =  There  is  no  allusion  in  Luke  xvi.  31,  to  Christ's  resurrection  ;  a  proof 
 that  it  has  been  transmitted  pure,  especially  as  such  a  bearing  could  easily 
 have  been  given  to  it,  as  was  done  in  Matthew  on  the  "  Sign  of  the 
 Prophet  Jonah."  De  Wctte  has  remarked  this.  Still  the  passage  contains 
 a  reason  for  Christ's  non-appearance  after  his  resurrection  to  those  who 
 could  not  be  brought  to  believe  on  him  during  the  period  of  his  public 
 ministry  on  earth. 
 
 ■^  The  assertion  has  been  made  (especially  by  Straiiss)  that  this  parable 
 does  not  treat  at  all  of  the  dispositions  of  the  heart,  and  of  their  conse- 
 quences in  another  world,  but  only  of  the  opposite  concUtions  of  human 
 life,  poverty  and  wealth  ;  and  of  the  removal  of  such  inequalities  in  the 
 next  life.  It  is  pretended  that  the  parable  is  founded  on  the  Ebioniti.«h 
 doctrine,  that  wealth  is  intrinsically  sinful,  and  poverty  intrinsically  meri- 
 torious ;  and,  accordingly,  that  the  conditions  of  men  in  the  future  life  will  be 
 inversely  as  their  conditions  here.  In  support  of  this  view,  it  is  remarked 
 that  the  parable  says  nothing  of  the  spirit  in  which  Lazarus  bore  his 
 suiferings ;  that  it  does  not  ascribe  a  sinful  life  to  the  rich  man,  and  that 
 the  rebuke  of  the  latter  says,  not  that  he  deserved  to  suffer  for  his  sins,  but 
 that  it  was  now  his  turn  to  suffer,  because  he  had  enjoyed  his  good  things 
 in  this  life.     But  (1.)  Is  not  the  description  of  Lazarus,  sick  and  starving, 
 
H£BOD.  355 
 
 §  220. — Persecutiojis  of  Ilerod  Antipas.  (Luke  xiii.  31.) 
 Before  Clirist  had  passed  the  border  of  Galilee,  certain 
 Pharisees  came  and  advised  him,  with  joretended  anxiety  for 
 his  safety,  to  leave  that  region  as  quickly  as  possible,  becans-e 
 the  king,  Herod  Antipas,  had  resolved  to  slay  hini.  It  is  a 
 question  whether  this  were  really  the  case,  or  whether  it  w;xs 
 a  mere  invention  of  the  Pharisees  to  rid  themselves  of  Christ'o' 
 troublesome  presence.  The  latter  would  have  been  perfectly 
 in  keeping  with  their  character.  Herod's  jirevious  conduct 
 certainly  afforded  no  substantial  groimd  for  suspicion ;  at  fii'st 
 he  seems  to  have  been  actuated  by  mere  curiosity  to  see  a  man 
 of  whose  deeds  so  much  was  said,  and  to  witness  one  of  his 
 miracles  (Luke  ix.  9);  and  at  a  later  period,  he  was  rejoiced 
 at  finding  an  opporti;nity  of  the  kind  (Liike  xxiii.  8).  But, 
 on  the  other  hand,  had  the  Pharisees  invented  the  story,  Jesus 
 would  have  levelled  his  reproof  at  them,  and  not  against 
 Herod.  It  would  not  have  been  in  harmony  with  liis  character 
 to  rebuke  them  over  Herod's  shoulders  by  calHng  him  a  crafty 
 *fox,"  when  the  epithet  was  intended  for  themselves,  instead 
 of  telling  them  directly  that  he  knew  their  cunning  aim  to 
 
 waiting  at  the  rich  man's  door  for  a  morsel  fi-om  his  table,  and  receiving 
 from  dogs  the  tendance  which  man  refused — is  not  this  the  strongest  pos- 
 sible indictment  of  Dives's  selfishness  and  want  of  love  ?  Misery  lay  at 
 his  door,  but  instead  of  sjrmpathizing  with  it,  he  sated  himself  with  sensual 
 enjoyments.  (2.)  The  sentence,  "  Thou  in  thy  lifetime  hadst  tliygood  things, 
 and  now  .  .  thou  wt  tormented,"  implies  the  cause  of  his  torment ;  he  had 
 Bought  his  highest  good  in  earthly  things  and  stifled  all  the  higher  wants 
 of  his  soul ;  and  noie,  when  torn  from  his  illusions,  the  sense  of  want,  the 
 thirst  for  what  alone  could  refresh  his  spirit,  arose  of  necessity  more  power- 
 fully within  him.  The  figures,  as  figures,  are  not  accidental ;  they  contain 
 the  truth  in  a  symbolical  form,  although  we  must  not  look  for  it  in  all  the 
 subordinate  details  of  the  picture  ;  and  although  it  is  altogether  foreign  to 
 the  scope  of  the  parable  to  give  a  clue  to  the  nature  of  the  future  life.  (3.) 
 The  very  expression  of  a  desire  on  the  part  of  Dives  to  send  Lazarus  to 
 warn  his  brothers  by  describing  his  sufferings  to  them,  implies  that  he 
 drew  those  sufferings  upon  himself,  and  might  have  escaped  them  by  a 
 change  of  heart  and  life.  Moses  and  the  2^'>'ophcfs  would  not  have  taught 
 them  to  throw  away  riches  as  sinful  in  themselves ;  the  expression  could 
 only  apply  to  the  rich  man's  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  want  of  love  for  his 
 neighbour.  (4.)  It  is  true,  nothing  is  said  of  Lazarus's  state  of  heart ;  but 
 then  he  is  only  a  foil  to  the  rich  man,  not  the  chief  figure.  Moreover,  the 
 contrast  that  is  drawn  between  him  and  Dives,  and  the  relation  in  which 
 he  is  made  to  stand  to  Abraham,  indicate  that  he  was  intended  to  represent 
 a  pious  man,  suffering  during  his  life  on  earth,  and  bearing  his  afilictions 
 with  religious  resignation.  Perhaps,  in  the  original  form  of  the  parable, 
 several  points  were  more  prominently  broiight  out  than  they  are  in  the 
 account  of  it  which  has  been  transmitted  to  us. 
 
 2  a2 
 
356  return'through  samaria. 
 
 drive  him  out  of  the  coimtry.  Nor  is  it  to  be  supposed  tliat 
 the  feelings  and  dispositions  of  a  man  like  Herod  Antipas 
 would  not  fluctuate  under  different  influences.  The  protracted 
 travels  of  Christ  in  Galilee,  and  the  stiildng  efiects  of  his 
 labours,  might  veiy  naturally  excite  the  fears  and  suspicions  of 
 Herod,  especially  in  %-ie\v  of  the  relation  in  which  Christ  stood 
 to  John  the  Baptist.  Even  if  he  did  not  really  intend  to  kill 
 him,  he  may  have  circulated  such  a  report,  and  thus  sought  to 
 gain  his  end  by  getting  liim  out  of  GaUlee.  This  would  have 
 been  characteristic  of  the  "  fox,"  as  Jesus  styled  him. 
 
 But  since  Herod's  relations  with  the  Pharisees  were  not  the 
 most  friendly,  and  since  he  must  have  known  theu-  hostility  to 
 Jesus,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  were  his  insti-uments  in  ap- 
 proaching the  Saviour.  They  probably  acted  from  motives  of 
 their  own ;  whether  they  belonged  to  the  less  hostile  party, 
 and  gave  him  the  warning  in  good  faith,  or  whether,  without 
 inventing  the  report,  they  used  it  to  get  rid  of  one  who  so 
 troubled  them  by  his  reproofs,  and  threatened  to  injure  their 
 authority  with  the  peoj^le  so  seriously. 
 
 §  221.— Christ's  Worck  of  his  Death. 
 Christ  answered  the  Phai'isees  that  there  was  no  occasion 
 for  such  craft  and  stratagem ;  he  should  stay  in  Galilee  a  few- 
 days,  but  would  not  leave  it  sooner;  he  had  nothing  to  fear 
 during  the  time  fixed  by  God  for  his  labours  there ;  at  Jeru- 
 salem was  his  career  to  terminate,  and  thither  he  should  go  to 
 meet  his  fate.  "  Go  tdl  that  fox,  behold,  I  cast  otit  devils,  and  I  do 
 aires  to-day  and  to-morrow  (i.  e.  but  a  short  time),  ajid  tJte  third 
 day  (shortly)  /  slmll  be  jjer/ected  (find  the  end  of  my  labours). 
 ^Nevertheless,  I  must  go  on  with  my  labours'^  to-day  and  to- 
 morrow;^ and  the  day  follovnng  I  go  away,  for  it  cannot  be  tluxt 
 a 2}rophet perish  out  of  Jeruscdem"^ 
 
 "  To  give  a  complete  sense  to  v.  33,  we  must  (with  the  PescMto)  insert 
 lpya'ii(yBai,  or  some  like  word,  after  avpiov. 
 
 '  This  is  by  no  means  a  mere  repetition  ;  the  preceding  verse  says  what 
 is  done  ;  this,  what  mmt  he  done  :  ctl  fit — implying  a  ruling  Providence. 
 "  Do  not  think  that  any  human  power  can  shorten  my  ministry  ;  it  i.s  the 
 Divine  will  that  I  work  here  a  short  time,  and  then  go  to  end  my  earthly 
 career  at  Jerusalem." 
 
 !f  The  verses  following  (34,  35)  are  found,  also,  in  Matt,  xxiii.  37-39. 
 Tlie  question  is,  to  which  jjlace  do  they  oiirjinally  belong  ?  Both  the  place 
 and  time  given  by  Matthew  appear  entirely  suitable,  and  the  connexion 
 J^etween  verses  34,  35  (Luke),  appears  to  prove  that  the  words  were 
 spoken  at  Jeru.salcm.  It  may  l>e  said  that  t>  oIkoq  vfiiov  does  not  necea- 
 parily  designate  the  Temple  ;  and  hence  that  Jesus  might  have  uaeil  the 
 words  when  leaving  Galilee  ;  but,  in  fact,  he  was  not  leaving  that  country. 
 
INHOSPITALITY  OF  CERTAIN  SAJLA.RITAKS.  357 
 
 The  extent  of  tliis  last  declai-ation  may  appear  strange,  as 
 Jolin  the  Baptist,  whom  Chiist  called  the  greatest  of  prophets, 
 did  perish  out  of  Jerusalem.  But  obviously  he  did  not  mean 
 to  express  a  general  and  inevitable  law,  but  only  to  characterize 
 strikingly  the  persecuting  spirit  of  the  hierarcliical  party  in 
 tiie  metropolis,  to  which  the  ^vitnesses  of  the  truth  must  always 
 tall  \'ictims.  And  although  Jerusalem  itself  was  not  the  seat 
 of  John's  labours,  still  the  city — i.  e.  the  ruling  party  there — 
 was  the  cause  of  his  death.  •» 
 
 §  222. — Journey  continued  thronr/Jt,  Samaria.  (Luke  xvii.  11,  seq.) — 
 Jnhospitality  of  certain  Samaritans. — Displeasure  of  the  Discipless.  (Luke 
 ix.  54.) — Ingratitude  of  Nine  Jewish  Lepers  that  ivere  Healed. — Gi-atitude 
 of  the  Saniantan  Leper.     (Luke  xvii.  15,  16.) 
 
 Christ  determined,  in  this  his  last  journey,  to  pass  through 
 Samaria,'  as  he  had  done  on  his  first  return  fi'om  the  Feast  of 
 Passover.  The  seventy  disciples  prepared  his  way  among  the 
 Samaritans.  A  few  of  them  met  with  a  bad  reception  at  a 
 certain  place;  the  people  refused  to  entertain  them  and  their 
 Master  because  they  were  going  to  the  Feast  at  Jerusalem. 
 James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  with  a  zeal  not  yet  siiffi- 
 ciently  tempered  by  love — probably  relying  on  the  miraculous 
 powers  intrusted  to  them  by  Christ — said  to  him,  "Lord,  unit 
 t/iou  tluit  we  comnumd  jive  from  heaven  and  consume  them,  even 
 as  Ellas  did?"  But  he  rebuked  them  with  the  question, 
 "  Know  ye  not  "with  what  temper  of  mindJ  ye  ought,  as  repre- 
 sentatives of  my  spirit,  to  be  actuated?"  And  they  went  to 
 another  village. 
 
 but  said  expres.sly  that  he  would  remain  a  little  time  longer.  On  the 
 whole,  therefore,  we  adopt  the  connexion  in  Jlatthew  as  the  original  one. 
 The  affinity  between  verses  33  and  3i  in  Luke  may  have  led  to  the  inser- 
 tion of  the  passage  in  this  place.  ''  Cf.  p.  190. 
 
 '  As  all  that  is  foimd  in  this  part  of  Luke's  Gospel  does  not  refer  to  one 
 journey,  it  is  possible  that  Luke  ix.  52,  belongs  to  a  separate  one.  We 
 place  it  in  this  later  period  from  the  "  messenf/ers"  (v.  52),  which  we  take 
 to  allude  to  the  Seventy,  and  from  the  confidence  of  the  Apostles  in  the 
 efficacy  of  their  prayer  (v.  54),  which  implies  that  they  were  at  that  time 
 organs  of  miraciilous  power.  The  mention,  in  verse  52,  of  the  sending  out 
 of  messengers,  without  express  allusion  to  the  Seventy,  taken  in  connexion 
 with  the  fact  that  this  is  a  fragmentary  account,  separate  from  the  narra- 
 tive of  the  mission  of  the  Seventy,  serves  to  confirm  the  veracity  of  the 
 latter. 
 
 •i  Namely,  not  to  call  judgments  down  upon  the  enemies  of  the  kingdom, 
 but  to  seek  their  salvation  ;  the  spirit  of  love  and  mercy,  sympathizing 
 with  those  that  err  from  mistaken  zeal ;  as  Jesus  himself  had  distinguished 
 the  sin  against  the  Son  of  Man  from  that  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  Cf. 
 p.  245,  2(53.  They  should  have  known  that  his  miraccles  were  designed  to 
 bless,  not  to  punish.     Cf.  p.  141. 
 
858  KETUK2f  THROUGH  SAMARIA. 
 
 lu  tlie  case  jiist  mentioned  the  Samaritans  were  in  fault, 
 and  their  conduct  tended  to  strengthen  the  Jewish  prejudice 
 of  the  disciples  against  them.*^  But  another  soon  occurred  in 
 which  Samaritan  gratitude  was  made  use  of  by  the  Saviour  to 
 counteract  that  prejudice.' 
 
 On  the  outskirts  of  a  Aollage  ten  lepers  met  him,  nine  of 
 whom  were  Jews,  and  the  tenth  a  Samaritan.  Shut  out  in 
 common  from  the  fellowship  of  men,  they  forgot  then*  national 
 hatred  in  theu'  sufferings,  and  banded  together.  Not  daring, 
 as  lepers,  to  approach  the  Saviour,  they  stood  afar  off  and 
 called  for  help.  They  were  healed,  but  not  immediately ; 
 Chnst  telling  them  to  show  themselves  to  the  priests  for  in- 
 spection. Of  all  the  ten,  only  the  Samaritan  came  back  to 
 thank  Christ,  and  in  him  God,  for  the  grace  of  healing. °> 
 
 The  SaA-iour  drew  the  attention  of  the  disciples  to  the  sus- 
 ceptible mind  of  the  thankful  Samaritan,  in  contrast  with  the 
 duLness  of  heart  shown  by  the  Jews.  This  simple  example 
 was,  in  fact,  a  type  of  the  conduct  of  multitudes.^ 
 
 *  The  absence  of  any  allusion  here  to  Christ's  former  reception  among 
 the  Samaritans  proves  nothing  against  the  veracity  of  the  narrative  ;  it 
 only  illustrates  the  manner  in  which  the  synoptical  Gospels  were  compiled. 
 
 '  Of  course  we  do  not  pretend  to  prore  that  this  event  (Luke  x^•ii.  11) 
 necessarily  falls  in  the  chronological  place  in  which  we  give  it. 
 
 ■"  There  are  several  obscurities  in  the  narrative.  At  what  point  did  the 
 Samaritan  tuni  back  {y.  15)  ?  Schleiermachcr  supposes  that  it  was  not  imtil 
 after  the  lepers  had  been  declared  to  be  healed  by  the  priest,  and  had 
 brought  the  usual  sacrifices  ;  that  the  Jews  might  have  expected  to  meet 
 Christ  at  the  feast  in  Jerusalem  and  thank  him  there  ;  but  the  other,  fol- 
 lowing the  Samaritan  sense  of  the  Mosaic  law,  went  to  the  Temple  of 
 Gerizim,  and  therefore  could  not  expect  to  meet  him  again.  Had  this 
 been  the  case,  Christ  would  not  have  praised  him  to  tlie  disadvantage  of 
 the  others,  merely  because  his  gratitude,  without  being  ijreatcr,  was  sooner 
 expressed.  This  being  inadmissible,  let  us  suppose  the  case  thus :  the 
 Samaritan,  from  intercourse  with  Jews,  had  imbibed  Jewish  opinions, 
 and  admitted  the  authority  of  their  prophets,  so  far,  at  least,  as  to  apply 
 the  law  in  their  sense  ;  in  fact,  it  appears  from  the  account  that  all  the  ten 
 went  together.  But  his  ardent  gratitude  could  not  wait  for  Christ's  arrival 
 at  Jerusalem  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  had  the  jiriest's  certificate,  he  hurried 
 back  to  meet  Jesus — who  travelled  slowly — on  the  way,  and  express  his 
 thanks.  Eut  the  sense  which  naturally  flows  firom  Luke's  words  is  also 
 the  most  probable  in  itself ;  the  lepers  foimd  themselves  healed  soon  after 
 leaving  the  village,  and  the  Samaritan,  full  of  gratitude,  hastened  l)ack  to 
 give  utterance  to  it. 
 
 "  In  the  narrative  the  miracle  holds  a  subordinate  place  ;  the  prominent 
 feature  is  the  contrast  between  the  thankfulness  of  the  Samaritan  and  the 
 ingratitude  of  the  Jews ;  and  this  fact  alone  testifies  to  its  veracity  in 
 respect  to  the  miracle  itself.  The  attempts  that  have  been  made  to  impugn 
 it,  or  to  show  that  it  was  originally  a  parable,  are  futile ;  it  bears  no  mark 
 
PROOF  OF  HIS  IIESSIAHSHIP.  359 
 
 CHAPTER  XIII. 
 
 CHEISt's  stay  at  JERUSALEil  DURING  THE  FEAST  OF  THE 
 DEDICATIOX. 
 
 §  llZ.—His  Statement  of  tlie  Proof  of  His  McssiahsMp. — His  Oneness  with 
 ilic  Futher. — He  defends  his  Words  from  the  Old  Testament.  (John  x. 
 22-39.) 
 
 In  the  niontli  of  December  Christ  arrived  at  Jerusalem  to 
 attend  the  Feast  of  the  Dedication.  As  he  had  not  ahvays 
 alike  openly  declared  liimself  to  be  Messiah,  he  was  asked, 
 while  walking  in  Solomon's  Porch,  by  cei-tain  Jews,  "^Hoiv  long 
 ivilt  thou  hold  us  in  suspense?  If  thou  he  the  Christ,  tell  us 
 plainly.''''  "We  do  not  know  by  whom,  or  in  what  spiiit,  this 
 question  was  asked.  In  \"iew  of  the  prevalent  notions  of  the 
 Jews  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  Messiah's  kingdom,  we  may 
 readily  imagine  that  persons  not  entirely  hostile  might  com- 
 plain of  the  uncertainty  in  which  they  were  held.  Probably, 
 however,  among  those  who  put  the  question  were  some  that 
 had  no  other  object  than  to  use  his  answer  to  his  disadvantage. 
 Whoever  they  were,  it  is  clear  that  they  had  no  just  ideas  of 
 Christ's  ministry  or  of  his  relations  to  mankind';  and,  there- 
 fore, no  further  explanation  than  that  which  his  words  and 
 deeds  had  already  afforded  could  have  been  of  use  to  them. 
 
 He,  therefore,  replied,  '■  I  told  you,  and  ye  believed  not. 
 What  use  to  repeat  it  ?  There  is  no  need  of  telling  you  in 
 express  terms.  You  might  have  known  it  from  the  (objective) 
 testimony  of  my  works,  had  you  been  so  disposed.  The  works 
 iliat  I  do  in  my  Father's  name,  they  bear  "svitness  of  me.  But 
 you  lack  faith ;  and  you  lack  it  because  you  are  not  of  my 
 sheep  (your  spirit  excludes  you  from  my  fellowship).  My 
 sheep °  hear  my  voice,  and  I  know  them,  and  they  follow  me; 
 
 of  improbability,  and  its  position  in  the  historical  account  of  the  journey  is 
 perfectly  natural.  A  narrator  of  events  naturally  gives  prominence  to 
 thoi?e  points  in  which  his  own  mind  is  most  interested,  and  throws  others 
 comparatively  into  the  background  ;  so  that  many  things  may  appear 
 wanting  in  his  staf-ements  to  readers  who  wish  to  form  for  themselves  a 
 perfect  image  of  the  transactions.  But  this  certainly  is  no  ground  for 
 supposing  aU  the  rest  to  be  mere  invention.  Tliis  much  against  Hase,  who 
 expresses  himself,  however,  ■with  uncertainty,  and  opposes  Straiiss. 
 
 "  If  this  alludes  to  the  parable  of  the  Good  Shepherd,  and  the  words 
 KoBiljQ  iItzov  vfili'  (v.  26)  are  genuine,  it  might  be  inferred  tliat  tliis  con- 
 versation took  pLace  shortly  after  the  other,  and,  therefore,  that  the 
 journey  to  Galilee  and  back  could  not  have  occurred  between  them.  But 
 it  would  not  be  at  all  decisive  to  that  effect  ;  Christ  may  have  alluded  to 
 the  parable  frequently,  and  thus  kept  it  fresh  in  the  memory  of  his 
 hearers. 
 
360  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 and  I  grant  unto  them  eternal  life ;  and  they  shall  never 
 perish,  neither  shall  any  man  pluck  them  out  of  my  hand  (i.  e. 
 my  protecting  care,  under  wliich  they  v>t11  reach,  in  safety,  the 
 full  eujoyment  of  eternal  life).  My  Father,  who  gave  them 
 to  me,  is  the  Almighty ;  and  no  power  of  the  world  can  pluck 
 them  from  the  hand  of  Omnipotence.  Through  me,  they  are 
 united  with  the  Almighty  Father ;  /  and  the  Father  are  one." 
 
 We  understand  by  the  "  oneness"  here  spoken  of  the  oneness 
 of  Christ  with  the  Father  in  will  and  works,  in  virtue  of  which 
 his  work  is  the  work  of  the  Father;  but  tliis  was  founded  on 
 tJie  consciousness  of  his  original  and  essential  oneness  -with  the 
 Father,  as  is  clear  from  his  testunonies  in  other  places  as  to  liis 
 relations  to  God.  In  and  of  itself  the  language  of  Christ  con- 
 tained notliing  that  might  not  have  been  said  from  the  stand- 
 point of  the  Jewish  idea  of  the  Messiah.  But  tlie  hostile 
 spirits  gladly  seized  the  occasion  to  accuse  liim  of  blasphemy, 
 and  preparations  were  made  to  stone  him. 
 
 The  rigid,  legal  Monotheism  of  the  Jews  placed  an  infinite 
 and  impassable  gulf  between  Goi)  and  the  creature ;  and  they, 
 therefore,  took  offence  at  Christ's  words,  especially  at  the 
 higher  sense  in  Avliich  he  was  accustomed  to  call  himself  the 
 Son  of  God.  He  then  sought  to  prove  to  them,  on  their  ovm 
 gi'ound,  that  Messiah  might  call  himself  in  that  higher  sense 
 tlie  Son  of  God,  and  appropi'iate  the  titles  founded  thereon, 
 without  the  slightest  prejudice  to  the  honour  of  God.  '•  If," 
 said  he,  "  in  yoiu"  o^vn  law  (Ps.  Ixxxii.  G)  persons  wlio,  in  spe- 
 cific relations,  represent  God  (e.  g.  judges  and  kings),  are  culled 
 gods  (^'r^'il) ;  how  much  more,  and  in  how  far  highei-  a  sense, 
 is  the  highest  Theocratic  King  entitled  to  call  himself  the  Son 
 of  God."  The  Jews  had  not  directly  taken  otience  at  liis 
 calling  himself  the  Son  of  God,  but  at  his  saying,  "  /  am  one 
 7vlth  tloe  Father ;"  but  Christ  considered  the  latter  claim  as  a 
 necessary  result  of  the  former.?    He  concluded  by  saying,  that, 
 
 P  I  cannot  agree  with  the  views  of  this  argument  which  Strams  (3** 
 Aufl.  i.  536)  has  adopted  from  Kern  (Tiibinger  Zeitschrift,  1836,  ii.  89)  : 
 "Jesus  used  this  line  of  argument  to  prove  his  right  to  style  himself  the 
 Son  of  God  to  persons  who  did  not  admit  A/s  Messiahship,  and  who  could 
 not  be  convinced  by  passages  in  which  Messiah  was  so  called,  that  he  had  a 
 right  to  apply  the  title  to  himself."  This  is  totally  foreign  to  the  con- 
 nexion in  which  the  argmnent  is  handed  down  to  us.  The  Jews  were  not 
 offended  because  Christ  had  appropriated  a  title  to  which  none  but  Mes- 
 siah had  a  right,  but  because  they  believed  him  to  claim  more  than  any 
 creature  could.  It  was  not  his  Messiahship  that  was  in  question,  but 
 whether  any  human  being  could  place  liimself  in  such  relations  to  God 
 without  prejudice  to  the  Divine  honour.     Christ's  concluding  sentence 
 
DIVORCE.  301 
 
 if  tliey  would  not  believe  liis  words,  they  might,  from  his  loorks, 
 know  and  believe  that  He  was  in  the  Father,  and  the  Father 
 in  Him. 
 
 CHAPTER  XIV. 
 
 JESUS  IN  PER.EA  (bETHABARA). 
 
 §  2iJ4. — Ills  Decision  on  the  Question  of  Divorce. — Celibacy.     (Slatt.  xix. 
 2-12  ;  Mark  x.  3-12.) 
 
 As  Jesus  could  remain  no  longer  at  Jerusalem  with  safety, 
 he  retired  for  a  while  into  the  vicinity  of  Bethabara,  in  Perpea.l 
 where  he  had  first  appeared  publicly,  and  where  he  had  always 
 found,  in  the  results  of  the  Baptist's  labours,  a  point  of  dejiar- 
 tiu'e  for  his  own.  ]Many  in  that  neighbourhood  were  prepared 
 to  recognize  Jesus  as  higher  than  John,  because  the  latter  had 
 done  no  such  DiAine  works  as  the  former  daily  performed. 
 
 In  view  of  liis  admitted  authority,  weightj''  questions  in 
 tiieology — at  least  some  which  were  much  debated  in  the 
 schools  of  the  time — were  proposed  to  him  for  solution.  These 
 questions  were  put  either  to  test  his  wisdom,  or  becaiise  of  the 
 confidence  men  had  already  acquired  in  his  illumination  as  a 
 jwophet.  One  of  them  concerned  the  interpretation  of  the 
 Mosaic  law  of  divorce,  and  was  chiefly  disputed  between  tho 
 schools  of  Hillel  and  of  Schammai.  Both  schools  erred  in 
 confounding  the  political  and  juridical  with  the  moral  elements 
 of  the  question.'  The  school  of  Hillel  held  that  the  moral  law 
 of  marriage  was  satisfied  in  the  Theocratico-political  lav/-  of 
 Moses ;  that  of  Schammai  imderstood  the  demands  of  morality 
 better,  but  erred  in  interpreting  the  Mosaic  law,  and  in  their 
 idea  of  the  stand-point  from  which  it  was  given. 
 
 When  the  question  was  presented  to  Christ  for  decision,  he 
 sepai-ated  the  two  stand-points — the  moral  and  the  legal — 
 wliich  had  been  confoimded  by  the  schools ;  in  substance,  how- 
 
 (v.  36)  implied  that  if  any  one  could  appropriate  such  a  title,  it  was  much 
 more  the  privilege  of  one  hallowed  by  God,  and  sent  by  him  into  the  ^^■l(rl(.l, 
 ?'.  c.  of  the  IMessiah  ;  tliiis  pre-supposing  his  owti  Messiahship.  Tlie  argu- 
 ment is,  therefore,  rather  a  conclusio  a  minori  ad  majus  than,  as  Kern 
 thinks,  an  apagogic  one. 
 
 1  John  X.  40.  This  brief  stay  in  Per£ea  is  intimated  also  in  Matt.  xix. 
 1  ;  for  whatever  sense  is  put  upon  the  words  ili;  tu  opia  rtjc  'lovSaiac,  it 
 is  expressly  said  that  Christ  went  iripav  tov  'lo^Savov.  What  is  said  in 
 Mark  x.  1,  /.  e.  that  he  went  through  Persea  to  Judea,  appears  to  conflict 
 with  the  original  account  of  the  journey,  as  given  in  Luke.  Comparing 
 Matt.  xix.  1,  seq.  and  Mark  x.  1,  seq.  we  infer  that  what  is  here  related 
 took  place  partly  during  Christ's  stay  in  Persa,  and  partly  when  he  had 
 retired  from  Jerusalem  into  Judea. 
 
 '  Cf.  Michaehs  on  the  Law  of  Moses,  ii.  §  120. 
 
3B2  CHRIST  IN  PEE.EA. 
 
 ever,  in  tlie  notion  of  marriage  itself,  lie  agreed  most  with  the 
 school  of  Schammai.  He  declared  (as  he  had  before  done  in 
 the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  s)  that  marriage  is,  according  to  its 
 idea,  an  indissoluble  imion,  by  which  man  and  wife  are  joined 
 into  one  whole,  constituting  but  one  life  ["  they  twain  are  one 
 Jlesh"].  As  it  was  his  work  eveiywhere  to  lead  back  all  human 
 relations  to  their  original  intention,  so  he  decided  that  the 
 idea  of  marriage  represented  in  Genesis,  as  originally  the  basis 
 of  its  institution  by  God,  should  be  realized  in  life. 
 
 This  idea  of  marriage  is  not  an  isolated  thing,  separate  from 
 the  system  of  life  that  emanated  from  Chiist,  but  belongs  to 
 its  organism  as  a  whole.  As  Christ  has  restored  in  human 
 nature  the  image  of  God  in  its  totality,  so  the  two-fold  ground- 
 form  for  its  exhibition,  denoted  by  the  opposite  sexes,  must  be 
 reinstated  in  its  rights — its  ideal  must  be  realized.  It  is 
 essential  to  this  that  these  two  ground-forms  fidfil  their  des- 
 tiny, and  become  mutually  complementary  to  each  other  in  a 
 higher  unity  of  Hfe,  binding  two  personalities  together,  and 
 this  is  marriage.  It  was  by  Christ,  therefore,  that  the  true 
 import  of  this  relation  had  to  be  unfolded. 
 
 Having  derived  from  Gen.  ii.  24,  the  higher  unity  into 
 which  two  persons  of  different  sexes  should  be  joined  by  mar- 
 riage, he  drew  the  following  conclusion :  "  W/mt,  there/ore,  God 
 (by  the  original  institution  of  marriage,  by  the  inward  relation 
 of  the  two  persons  to  each  other,  and  by  the  leadings  tlu-oiigh 
 which  he  makes  them  conscious  of  it)  hath  joined  together,  lei 
 not  man  ^mt  amnder.''  Upon  this  they  asked,  "How,  then, 
 does  this  bear  upon  the  Mosaic  law,  which  admits  of  divorce?" 
 He  replied.  "Moses,  because  of  the  hardness  of  your  liearts  (your 
 rude  and  carnal  condition),  suffered  you  to  jmt  away  your  wives 
 (as  state  laws  do  not  aim  to  realize  moral  ideas  or  to  create  a 
 moral  sense,  but  to  bring  about  outward  civilization,  the  laws 
 being  adapted  to  the  stand-point  of  the  nature) ;  hut  from  the 
 heginning  it  loas  not  so." 
 
 But  Christianity,  from  its  veiy  nature,  can  make  no  such 
 condescensions.  It  is  her  problem  everywhere  to  realize  the 
 ideals  of  the  creation;  a  task  which  the  new  life  imparted  by 
 God  makes  possible  to  her.  In  fact,  Clu'ist's  decision  in  tliis 
 particvUar  case  illustrates  the  entire  relation  of  Judaism  to 
 Christianity;  there,  condescension  to  a  rude  contUtion  of  the 
 natural  man,  which  could  not  be  removed  by  outwai-d  means ; 
 /icre,  the  restoration  of  that  wliich  tvas  in  t/ie  beginning.  Ju- 
 '  Cf.  p.  252. 
 
CELIBACY.  363 
 
 daisin,  in  a  word,  stood  midway  between  the  original  and  the 
 reviewed  (Gal.  iii.  19). 
 
 This  high  idea  of  marriage  was  at  that  time  beyond  the 
 reach  of  the  disciples ;  its  indissolubility  appeared  so  hard,  and 
 the  responsibility  (if  eveiy  separation  were  adultery)  so  great, 
 that  they  said,  in  alarm,  "  If  the  case  be  so,  it  is  better  not  to 
 marry  at  all." 
 
 Nov/  it  is  not  to  be  imagined  that  Christ  woidd  reply  to 
 this  only  by  praising  those  who  were  incapable  of  realizuig  the 
 Christian  idea  of  marriage  and  exalting  the  superiority  (even 
 though  a  conditional  one)  of  a  single  life.  We  should  have 
 expected,  in  accordance  with  his  usual  mode  of  teaching,  that 
 he  Avould  point  out  the  ground  of  their  alarm  in  the  state  of 
 then-  hearts,  and  show  that  what  appeared  so  difficult  would 
 be  made  easy  by  the  power  of  the  Divine  life.  Moreover,  if 
 he  intended  to  answer  them  only  by  recommending  celibacy, 
 he  omitted  precisely  that  which  the  occasion  demanded,  viz. 
 the  mention  of  celibacy  arising  fi-om  conscious  inability  to 
 come  up  to  the  moral  standard  of  marriage.  This  sudden  leap, 
 from  a  lofty  definition  of  the  idea  of  marriage  to  a  laudation  of 
 cehbacy,  appears  certainly  unaccoimtable ;  we  must,  therefore, 
 suppose  that  some  intermediate  j^art  of  the  conversation  has 
 been  omitted.  The  disciples  might  have  inferred,  from  his 
 placing  marriage  so  liigh,  that  it  was  to  be  indispensable,  under 
 the  new  covenant,  to  the  manifestation  of  the  kmgdom  of  God. 
 In  this  respect,  however,  Christ  stood  dii'ectly  opposed  to  the 
 Jewish  stand-point,  which  absolutely  required  marriage;  he 
 was  far  from  prescribing  an  unconditional  form,  binding  under 
 aU  the  manifold  and  diversified  circumstances  of  life;  the 
 kingdom  of  God  could  be  served  imder  various  relations  and 
 conditions,  and  all  was  to  bend  to  tJiis  object. 
 
 "We  must  presume,  therefore,  either  that  (as  is  often  the 
 case  in  Matthew's  Gospel)  the  passage  has  been  transferred 
 fi'om  some  other  connexion  to  this;  or,  if  it  really  belongs 
 here,  that  the  intermediate  portions  of  the  conversation  have 
 not  been  transmitted  to  us. 
 
 Christ's  doctrine  on  cehbacy  here  is,  that,  if  it  aim  at  the 
 gloiy  of  God,  it  must,  like  true  man-iage,  be  connected  Avith 
 the  power  of  controlling  nature.  Such  celibacy,  and  such  only, 
 does  he  recognize,  as  implies  the  sacrifice  of  human  feelings 
 from  love  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  for  the  sake  of  render- 
 ing it  more  efficient  service.  Only  in  this  sense  could  he  have 
 spoken  of  cehbacy  "for  the  kingdom  of  Heavens  sake;''  he 
 
364  CHRIST  IN  PER^EA. 
 
 never  used  this  expression  to  denote  fitting  one's  self  for  the 
 kingdom  by  a  contemplative  life,  &c.,  but  always  to  denote  a 
 holy  activity  in  its  service.  He  condemns  those  who  bury 
 tlieir  talents  in  order  to  preser\^e  them.  But  at  a  time  when 
 the  outward  spread  of  the  kingdom  of  God  was  the  cliief 
 object  of  religious  eftbrt,  ceHbacy,  for  its  sake  especially,  might 
 find  place. 
 
 It  is  to  be  carefully  noted  that  Chi-ist  by  no  means  says, 
 '•Blessed  are  those  who  abstain  from  maxTiage  for  the  sake  of 
 the  kingdom,"  &c.  as  if  tliis,  in  itself,  M^as  pre-eminently  excel- 
 lent ;  but  simply  describes  an  existing  state  of  facts :  '•  There 
 are  some  eumichs"  &c. ;  distinguishing  such  as  adopt  this  mode 
 of  hfe  for  the  sake  of  the  kingdom  from  those  that  either  have 
 no  choice  in  the  matter,  or  are  actuated  by  other  motives. 
 His  decision,  therefore,  was  opposed  not  only  to  the  old  He- 
 brew notion  that  cehbacy  was  ^;er  se  ignominious,  but  also  to 
 tlie  ascetic  doctrine  wliich  made  it  ^?er  se  a  superior  condition 
 of  life ;  a  doctrine  so  widely  diffused  in  later  times.  It  involves 
 his  gi'eat  principle,  that  the  heart  and  disposition  must  be 
 devoted  to  the  interests  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  for  it 
 must  volvmtarily  modify  all  the  relations  of  life  as  necessity 
 may  require. 
 
 §  225. — Tlie  Blessing  of  Little  Children.     (Luke  xviii.  15-17  ;  Matt.  xix. 
 13-15  ;  Mark  i.  13-16.) 
 
 As  the  Saviour  was  lea"\dng  a  certain  place  in  Persia,  where 
 he  had  deeply  impx-essed  the  people,  they  brought  their  little 
 childx'en  to  receive  his  blessing.  The  disciples,  unwilling  to 
 have  him  annoyed,  turned  them  away.  But  Jesus  called  them 
 back,  and  said,  "  Siiffer  tlie  little  children,  to  come  unto  me,  and 
 forbid  tliem  not;  for  of  stich  ii  tlie  kingdom  of  Heaven."  He  then 
 took  them  ixp  ixi  his  arms,  laid  his  hand  ixpon  them,  axid  blessed 
 thexn ;  a<ldixig,  "  Wlwsoever  sludl  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God 
 as  a  little  child,  sludl  not  enter  tlierein."  These  words  were  op- 
 posed pax-tly  to  the  idea  still  entertained  by  the  disciples 
 (maixifested  in  theix*  deeming  the  appx-oach  of  the  children  in- 
 consistent wdth  his  dignity),  that  the  glory  of  Messiah  and  his 
 kingdom  would  be  outward ;  and  pax-tly  to  the  self-wilkd  and 
 self-seeking  spirit  which  eebased  their  religious  conceptions; 
 a  spii-it  stx-ikingly  exhibiced  in  many  of  then*  expressions 
 during  tlxis  last  pcx-iod  of  (Jhrist's  labours. 
 
 In  fact,  this  single  saying  expx-essed  the  whole  natui-c  of  the 
 Gospel  proclaiujed  by  Christ.  It  implied  that  he  v-iewed  the 
 kingdom  of  GpD  as  an  invisible  and  spiritual  one,  to  enter 
 
THE  RICH  KULEH.  3G5 
 
 wliich  a  cei'tain  disposition  of  heart  was  essentkl,  viz.  a  cliilcl- 
 like  spirit,  free  from  pride  and  self-'wdll,  recei%ing  Di\ine  im- 
 pressions in  humble  submission  and  conscious  dependence :  in 
 a  -word,  all  the  qualities  of  the  child,  siiffering  itself  to  be 
 guided  by  the  developed  reason  of  the  adult,  are  to  be  illus- 
 ti'ated  in  the  relations  between  man  and  God.*  Withoiit  this 
 child-lil-ce  spirit  there  can  be  no  reHgious  faith,  no  religious 
 life.  On  the  one  hand,  Christ  rebuked  that  self-confidence 
 which  expects  a  share  in  the  kingdom  on  the  ground  of  intel- 
 lectual 01'  moral  woi-th;"  but  on  the  other,  by  making  chUdren 
 a  model,  he  recognized  in  them  not  only  the  undeveloped  spirit 
 of  self,  but  also  the  undeveloped  consciousness  of  God,  striding 
 after  its  original.  The  whole  transaction  ilhxstrates  the  love 
 with  which  Chiist  goes  to  meet  the  da-wiung  sense  of  God  ia. 
 human  natui'e. 
 
 §  226. — Chnsfs  Conversation  with  tlie  Rich  Ruler  of  the  Synnrjorjue  (young 
 man?)     (Matt.  xix.  16-24  ;  Mark  x.  17,  seq.  ;  Luke  xviii.  18,  seq.) 
 
 Christ  was  followed  from  the  place  above  mentioned  by  a 
 ruler^  of  the  synagogue,  whose  mind  had  been  impressed  by 
 his  words,  and  who  came  to  ask  what  remained  for  him  to  do 
 that  he  might  inherit  eternal  Life.  It  is  clear  that  he  was  one 
 of  the  self-righteous,  and  had  as  yet  no  just  sense  of  his  legal 
 deficiencies  and  need  of  redemption.  He  probably  expected 
 to  hear  from  the  lips  of  the  great  Teacher  himself  that  he  had 
 already  done  all  that  was  requisite  to  secure  eternal  life ;  or 
 merely  that  some  additional  exercises  of  piety  were  necessaiy; 
 lie  himself  being  all  the  time  perfectly  content  Avith  his  own 
 moral  condition.  And  in  this  spiiit  he  asked  the  qu.estion, 
 "  Good  blaster,  wluit  shall  I  do  to  inherit  etcriuil  life  ? 
 
 '  Precisely  the  same  spirit  as  was  demanded  in  the  sayings  of  Christ 
 alluded  to  on  p.  242,  seq. 
 
 "  The  belief  that  reason  is  self-sufficient  woidd  utterly  unhinge  the 
 Christian  world,  and  cause  its  life  to  assume  fonns  directly  the  reverse  of 
 tliose  which  Christian  principles  have  created.  It  would,  indeed,  cause  a 
 contest  of  life  and  death. 
 
 "  According  to  Luke  an  lipxiov,  which  might  also  mean  "a  member  of 
 tJie  Sanhedrim  ;"  but  as  Christ  was  at  Penea,  it  was  moi-e  probably  '■  a 
 ruler  of  the  synagogue."  Accorfling  to  Matthew,  he  was  a  "young  man," 
 wliich  does  not  suit  very  well  with  his  arrogant  lang-uage — "All  these  have 
 I  kept  from  my  youth  up."  It  is  true,  the  words  Ik  vibrriToQ  finv  are 
 wanting  in  Cod.  Vatic,  but  the  authorities  for  retaining  them  preponderate  ; 
 tlieir  omission  may  have  been  caused  by  the  very  discrepancy  to  which  we 
 allude.  Althougli  it  cannot  be  said  to  be  entirely  improbable  that  he  waa 
 a.  youth,  yet  the  whole  tone  of  discourse  appears  to  imply  that  he  was 
 advanced  in  years,  and  had  a  self-righteous  confidence  founded  on  a  life 
 blameless  from  his  youth  up. 
 
366  CHRIST  IN  PER.^Li. 
 
 Christ  replied,  "  Why  callest  thou  me  good  2"^  none  is  good  save 
 one,  tluit  is,  God."  The  difficulty  which  appears  to  lie  in  these 
 ■words,  when  compared  with  other  declarations  of  Christ  in 
 regard  to  his  person,  will  vanish  if  we  keep  in  view  the  general 
 sense  in  which  the  antithesis  is  expressed.  God  is  good  in  a 
 sense  wliich  can  be  predicated  of  no  o'eature.  He  alone  is  the 
 primal  source  and  cause  of  all  good  in  rational  beings,  who  are 
 ca-eated  to  be  free  organs  of  his  revelations  of  himself.  (It  is 
 the  high  import  of  true  morahty  that  the  gloiy  of  Gor>,  the 
 only  good  and  holy  one,  is  revealed  in  it.)  Christ  would  not 
 have  exhibited,  in  his  character  as  man,  a  model  of  perfect 
 humility,  had  he  not  traced  back  to  God  all  the  good  that  was 
 in  him.  But  in  the  instance  before  us  he  doiibtless  had  a 
 special  reason  for  answering  thus ;  in  any  other  case  he  might 
 have  allowed  the  title  to  be  appUed  to  him  without  incurring 
 the  charge  of  self-deification.  We  infer  this  from  the  fact  of 
 the  answer  itself,  and  also  from  the  conduct  of  the  questioner. 
 The  Saviour,  looking  into  his  heart,  saw  that  he  was  vainly 
 trusting  in  his  own  morality,  and  was  most  of  all  lacking  in 
 humility ;  and  it  was  precisely  these  defects  which  Chi-ist  sug- 
 gested to  him,  by  declining  for  himself  the  epithet  "good." 
 
 In  regard  to  the  subsequent  words  of  Christ,  two  su2")posi- 
 tions  are  possible.  (1.)  The  fir.^t  would  run  as  follows:  Jesus 
 did  not  at  once  answer  the  rider's  question,  but  put  to  him 
 another,  viz.  whether  he  had  kept  the  commandments,  i.  e. 
 in  theii'  literal  and  outward  sense,''  without  special  reference 
 to  the  law  of  love.  He  could  not,  of  course,  mean  that  this 
 would  secure  eternal  life ;  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  had 
 already  demanded  a  higher  and  jjiu'er  obedience.  Thus  far  he 
 only  described  the  lower  stand-point — that  oi  aju-stUia  ciiilis; 
 with  the  intention  to  follow  it  up  mth  the  declai'ation  (con- 
 
 "  Ziochmann  reads,  ri  fit  tpwruQ  iripi  rnv  ayaOov :  tic  terh'  6  aynOog. 
 Even  if  this  be  tlie  true  reading,  De  Wette's  explanation,  which  seems  to 
 me  to  conflict  with  the  whole  teaching  of  Christ,  by  no  means  follows  fi-om 
 it.  It  jnay  be  thus  interpreted :  "  Why  do  you  ask  me  about  what  is 
 good  ?  There  is  one  who  i.s  good,  and  to  him  thou  must  go  to  learn  what 
 is  good;  and  he  has,  in  fact,  revealed  it  to  thee."  {Miiller,  Li^hre  v.  d. 
 Sunde,  p.  SO,  gives,  as  the  thought  expressed  in  the  passage,  "  tliat  only 
 from  communion  witli  him  who  alone  is  good  can  the  created  spirit  receive 
 the  good  ;"  thu.s  making  the  sense  about  the  same  as  in  the  common 
 reading.)  "  Thou  couldst  then  answer  the  question  forthyaelf.  But  since 
 thou  aakest  me,  then  Icnow,"  &c.  But  Lachmann's  reading  of  the  reply 
 has  not  the  air  of  originality  ;  it  was,  perhaps,  invented  because  Christ's 
 declining  the  epithet  "good  "  was  a  stumbling-block. 
 
 *  As  quoted,  Luke  xviii.  20. 
 
THE  RICH  RULER.  367 
 
 tained  in  v.  22)  that  such  a  fulfilment  wovild  not  suffice  to  gain 
 eternal  life;  that  one  thing  higher  was  still  lacking.  (2.)  The 
 second  interpretation,  and  the  one  to  which  our  own  opinions 
 incHne,  is  as  follows:  Christ  answers  (Matt.  xix.  17),  '■'■If  thou 
 wUt  enter  into  life,  keep  the  commandments;'^  implying,  doubt- 
 less, a  true  fulfilment  of  the  law  as  representing  the  holiness  of 
 God,  and,  therefore,  presupposing  the  existence  of  the  all- 
 eesential  love  in  the  specific  duties  mentioned  (v.  18,  19).  But 
 it  is  clear  that  Christ  did  not  presuppose  that  the  ruler  had 
 kept  the  commandments  in  this  sense ;  on  the  contrary,  seeing 
 his  wiKul  self-righteousness,  he  adapted  his  answers  thereto,  to 
 make  liim  conscious  hov/  far  he  was  from  that  true  obedience 
 "which  is  requisite  for  inheriting  the  kingdom.  He  thus  gives 
 the  man  occasion  himself  to  express  his  self-iighteousness :  '■'AU 
 tJi£se  luive  I  kept  from  my  youth  up'.''  When  he  adds  "  What 
 lack  I  yet '? "  Jesus  tells  him  the  one  thing  necessaiy :  >'  "  Ex- 
 change thine  earthly  wealth  for  heavenly  treasure  (the  highest 
 treasiire,  a  share  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  wliich  none  can  secure 
 but  those  who  hold  all  other  treasures  as  valueless  in  compa- 
 rison with  it) ;  ffive  thy  goods  to  tlie  poor,  and  come  and  folloxo 
 me." 
 
 Chiist  commands  him  to  follow,  just  as  he  was,  without  de- 
 laying to  care  for  his  possessions ;  expressing,  in  this  particular 
 command,  the  general  thought :  "  The  one  thing  which  thou 
 lackest,  and  without  which  none  can  enter  into  eternal  life,  is 
 the  denial  of  thyself  and  of  the  world,  making  everything  subor- 
 dinate to  the  interests  of  the  Divine  kingdom."  He  chose  the 
 pai-ticular  form,  instead  of  the  general  rule,  in  order  to  con- 
 vince the  rich  man  of  his  lack  the  more  strikingly,  by  pointing 
 out  his  weakest  side ;  for  he  clung  to  his  wealth  Avith  his  whole 
 
 y  It  is  a  question  whether  Jie  fonii  given  Ly  Luke  is  not  that  which 
 most  accurately  expresses  Christ's  meaning-.  IMatthew  has  it,  "  If'  thou 
 wilt  be  pei-fect ;"  but  even  here  could  not  be  intended  a  perfection  superior 
 to  the  fuljilment  of  the  law  ;  for,  according  to  the  Sermon  on  the  Moimt, 
 there  can  be  no  liigher  perfection  ;  and,  moreover,  the  subsequent  expres- 
 sions of  the  disciples  show  that  they  understood  Christ  to  specify  a  state  of 
 heart  which  all  must  possess  iii  order  to  secure  eternal  life.  A  misunder- 
 standing of  this  conversation  of  Christ  gave  rise  to  a  distinction  between 
 the  fulfilment  of  the  law,  i.  e.  the  peij^orniance  of  duty,  and  moral  perfection; 
 which  has  been  a  fruitful  source  of  error  ever  since  the  first  ages  of 
 Christianity.  Clement  of  Alexandria  imderstood  and  explained  the  passage 
 more  correctly  ;  not  so  much  in  his  beautiful  treatise  "  Quis  Dzres  Salv." 
 as  in  his  Strom,  iii.  449.  He  says  on  Matt.  xix.  21  :  eXtyxti  tov  Kavxi!'- 
 fitvov  iiri  Tui  TTciaaQ  rciQ  ivroXag  tK  rsorjjroe  TtTrjpt)Kfi'ai,ov  yap  TrtrrXr]- 
 pwKCi  TO'  dyaTTi'iffeic  tov  Tr\r](riov  <jjg  iavTov'  tote  Sk  viro  rov  Kvpio'j 
 avvTiXeiovf^ui'og,  tCtcdcrK(TO  ci  dyd-jifv  fiiTu^iloi'ai. 
 
368  CHRIST  IK  PEILEA. 
 
 heart ;  to  teacli  liirn,  from  his  o^vn  experience  of  his  love  of  the 
 world,  how  far  he  was  from  possessing  that  love  which  is  the 
 essence  of  obedience  to  the  law.^ 
 
 §  227.— The  Danger  of  Wealth.     (Matt.  xix.  22,  seq.  ;  Mark  x.  22,  seq. ; 
 Luke  xviii.  23,  seq.) 
 
 Tlie  rich  man,  incapable  of  the  saciifice  demanded  of  him, 
 went  away  in  perplexity ;  and  Christ  said  to  the  disciples,  "  By 
 this  example  you  may  see  how  bard  it  is  for  the  rich  to  enter 
 the  kingdom  of  Heaven;"  and  then  he  employed  a  figure  by 
 which,  indeed,  it  appears  to  be  imiDossible:  '-ft  is  easier /or  a 
 camel,"  &c.  Nor  is  this  to  be  interpreted  as  a  hyperbole ;  the 
 words  of  V.  26,  "With  inen  this  is  imjwssible  (i.  e.  to  unassisted 
 human  nature) ;  hut  with  God  all  things  are  ^Jossible"  show  that 
 Christ  meant  to  say  that  it  is  impossible  to  the  unaided  powei"S 
 of  man,  before  he  has  partaken  of  that  higher  life  wMch  alone 
 can  destroy  the  love  of  self  and  of  the  world.  Some  of  the 
 hearers  were  amazed  at  Clmst's  sa}TJig,  and  exclaimed,  in 
 alarm,  "  Who,  tlien,  can  he  saved  V 
 
 If  this  exclamation  were  made  by  any  of  the  Apostles,  it 
 must  appear  strange ;  tliey  had  no  wealth  to  absorb  their  affec- 
 tions; and  had,  in  fact,  made  the  veiy  sacrifice  demanded. 
 But  if  we  suppose  that  they  did  make  it,  they  probably  took 
 Christ's  words  in  a  general  sense — in  which  they  would  be  as 
 appUcable  to  the  poor  as  to  the  rich — as  impl^dng  total  renun- 
 ciation of  earthly  things.  Yet  Peter's  question,  v.  27,  does  not 
 accord  very  well  with  this  supposition.    It  is  also  very  possible 
 
 '^  If  we  compare  with  this  narrative,  as  given  in  our  Gospels,  that  form 
 of  it  which  appears  in  tlie  Evaiuj.  ad  Hthraos,  we  can  see  that  the  latter  xa 
 a  later  revision,  from  the  way  in  which  some  points  are  contracted  and 
 others  unhistorically  dilated  ;  e.  g.  Christ,  instead  of  throwing  out  a  single 
 thought  to  excite  the  man's  mind,  gives  him  at  once  a  full  explanation 
 (though  a  correct  one).  "Dixit  ad  eum  alter  divitum  (whether sawaZ rich 
 men  were  mentioned  in  the  original  tradition,  or  this  was  a  piece  of  inven- 
 tion) magister,  quid  bonum  faoiens  vivam  ?  Dixit  ei  :  Homo,  leges  et 
 prophetas  fac  (an  imitation  of  Christ's  saying  that  '  in  love  l)oth  the  law 
 and  the  prophets  are  fulfilled').  licspondit  ad  eum  :  feci.  Di.vitei:  vadc, 
 vende  omnia  qiiee  possidcs,  ct  divide  pauperibus  et  veni,  seqvere  me.  Ceepit 
 autem  dives  scaljiere  caput  suum  (clearly  enough  a  little  colouring  matter 
 thrown  in  ;  although  such  graphic  features  are  not  alwaj's  a  mark  of  spu- 
 riousness  ;  their  character  will  generally  decide  the  point.  In  this  instance 
 the  fancy  is  apparent).  £t  di.vit  ad  eum  Domimis  :  Quomodo  dicis :  legem 
 fed,  et  prophet  as,  quoniam  scriptum  est  in  lege:  diliges  j>roximrfm  tuum  sicui 
 teipsiun,  ct  ecce,  multi  fratres  tui,  Jilii  Ahrahce,  aviicti  sunt  stercore,  moricntcs 
 precfamc  et  domus  iua  plena  est  multis  bonis  et  7ion  egreditur  omnino  aliquid 
 ex  ca  ad  eos." 
 
REIGNING  WITH  CHRIST,  369 
 
 that  the  persons  referred  to  in  the  passage  did  not  belong  to 
 the  number  of  the  Apostles.* 
 
 "  Tlie  things,"  said  Christ,  "  which  are  imjiossihle  with  men 
 are  j^ossihle  with  God."  What  man  cannot  do  by  his  unaided 
 powers  he  can  accomplish  by  the  power  of  God.  By  enun- 
 ciating this  truth  as  the  result  of  his  whole  course  of  remark, 
 he  showed  its  point  of  departure  and  its  aim.  While  the  rest 
 stood,  as  it  were,  stupified,  Peter  ventm-ed  to  say,  "  Does  what 
 you  have  said  apply  to  us?  Lo,  we  have  left  oM  and  folio  i;ed 
 tliee." ''  Then  uttered  the  Saviour  those  words,  so  full  of  con- 
 soling px'omise :  "There  is  no  man  that  Juitli  left  Iwuse,  orj)arents, 
 or  brethren,  or  vnfs,  or  children  for  tlie  kingdom  of  GocCs  sake, 
 who  shall  not  receive  manifold  more  in  this  jyt-esent  time,  aiul  in 
 tJie  vjorld  to  come  life  everlasting."  The  first  part  of  the  pi'omise 
 (referring  to  tliis  life)  was  enough  to  show  even  those  whose 
 minds  were  filled  with  carnal  and  Chiliastic  expectations,  that 
 tlie  whole  was  to  be  taken,  not  literally,  but  spiritually ;  Chiis- 
 tiaus  were  to  receive  back  all  that  they  had  sacrificed,  increased 
 and  glorified,  in  the  communion  of  the  higher  life  on  earth. 
 The  second  part  expressed  the  common  inheritance  of  behevei^s 
 verlastmjr  life  h\  heaven. 
 
 §  228. — Believers  are  to  Reiffn  with  Christ. 
 Matthew  mentions  in  this  connexion  (xix.  28)  the  promise 
 of  Christ  to  Ms  disciples,  that,  when  the  Son  of  Man  should 
 appear  with  dominion  corresponding  to  liis  glory  in  the  renewed 
 and  glorified  world,  they  should  "sit  U'pon  twelve  thrones,  judging 
 t/ie  twelve  tribes  of  Israel."  The  word  "judging"  includes  the 
 idea  of  "  governing,"  according  to  its  ancient  acceptation.  The 
 collocation  of  tliis  passage  may  be  one  of  those  instances  in  wliich 
 Matthew  arranges  his  matter  more  according  to  the  connexion 
 of  thought  than  of  time ;  but  there  is  no  reason  to  question  its 
 originality.  The  idea  of  a  participation  of  believers  wdth 
 Christ  in  the  government  and  judgment  of  the  future  world  is 
 bound  up  with  the  whole  mode  of  re])i-esenting  the  kingdom  of 
 God  in  the  New  Testament  ;*=  our  duty  must  be  to  separate 
 the  idea  from  its  symboKcal  form  derived  from  the  old  Theo- 
 Ci'atic  mode  of  thought,  and  to  recognize  the  new  Spirit  that 
 
 *  Luke  xviii.  26,  supports  this. 
 
 ''  The  form  of  the  question  of  Peter  given  by  Matthew  (xix.  27)  implies 
 a  looking  for  reward  on  his  part.  But  had  this  been  his  object  in  j^utting 
 it,  Christ  would  have  more  emphatically  reproved  it. 
 
 "=  Cf.  p.  2i3.  Various  passages  of  Paul  (1  Cor.  vi.  2,  &c.)  pre-suppose 
 such  sayings  of  Christ. 
 
 2b 
 
370  CHRIST  IN  BETHANY. 
 
 was  to  be  developed  from  it.  The  passage  (like  tlie  other  pro- 
 mises iu  the  context)  recognizes  degrees  in  the  share  of  govern- 
 ment and  judgment  allotted  to  believers.  Not  only  the  Head, 
 but  also  all  the  organs  of  the  kingdom  of  God  are  to  share  in 
 its  dominion;  because  its  dominion  is  to  be  universal.  Tliia 
 is  an  important  idea  for  Chiistian  ethics.  There  are  to  be 
 "judges"  and  "judged,"  "rulers"  and  "ruled" — but  in  an 
 exalted  sense — in  the  new  form  of  the  Theocracy  as  weU  as  in 
 the  old. 
 
 CHAPTER  XY. 
 
 JESUS  IN  BETHANY. 
 
 §229.  —  The  Family  of  Lazarus. — Martha  and  Mary;    their   different 
 Tendencies.     (Luke  x.  38,  seq.) 
 
 A  PRESSING  call  induced  Christ  to  leave  Persea,  where  he 
 found  so  susceptible  a  soil,  perhaps  sooner  than  he  would 
 otherwise  have  done. 
 
 About  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Jerusalem,  at  the  foot  ot  the 
 Mount  of  Olives,  lay  the  village  of  Bethany,  where  dwelt  a 
 family,  two  sisters  and  a  brother,  with  whom  Christ  had 
 formed,  during  his  repeated  and  pi'otracted  visits  to  the  city, 
 a  close  and  affectionate  intimacy.  Luke  has  left  us  a  descrip- 
 tion of  this  fomily  agi'eeing  perfectly  (without  design  or  con- 
 cert) with  that  given  by  John'^  (xi.  1-5).  On  one  occasion, 
 when  Christ  was  partaldng  of  their  hospitality,  one  of  the 
 sisters,  JMartha,  showed  more  anxiety  to  provide  for  the  bodily 
 comforts  of  her  exalted  guest,  and  to  give  him  a  worthy  re- 
 
 ^  The  passage  in  John  probably  refers  to  the  earlier  period  of  this 
 intimacy.  It  is  true,  Luke  (x.  33)  does  not  mention  the  name  of  the 
 village  ;  the  account  transmitted  to  him  probably  did  not  contain  it,  and 
 here,  as  in  other  cases,  he  would  not  insert  the  name  merely  for  the  sake  of 
 givingdefiniteness  to  the  narrative.  Theevent  itself,  as  avery significant  one, 
 had  been  faithfully  kept  and  transmitted  ;  the  locality,  being  unimportant 
 to  the  interest  of  the  event,  was  probably  forgotten.  It  is  true,  the 
 position  of  the  passage  in  the  account  of  Christ's  last  journey  to  Jerusalem, 
 might  lead  to  the  inference  that  the  place  was  at  some  distance  from  the 
 city  ;  but,  as  we  have  already  said,  the  account  itself  mingles  two  journeys 
 together,  as  is  especially  evident  in  the  single  case  before  us.  i)e  Weite 
 has  remarked  this.  Luke  simply  adhered  to  the  account  he  had  received, 
 which  gave  him  no  information  about  the  locality  ;  this  last  we  must  learn 
 from  John.  The  probabilities,  in  regard  to  time,  are  favouralile  to  our 
 supposition.  The  undesigned  coincidence,  therefore,  of  John  with  Luke, 
 in  the  description  of  the  family,  &c.  is  a  strong  proof  of  credibility. 
 Straws,  however,  adduces  Luke's  silence  in  regard  to  Lazarus  as  invali- 
 dating John's  credibility,  but  without  the  slightest  reason  ;  Lulce's  object 
 was  to  make  prominent  the  relation  of  the  two  sisters  to  Clarist,  and  the 
 mention  of  Lazarus  was,  therefore,  not  at  all  necessary. 
 
ilAR-V  AND  MARTHA.  371 
 
 ception,  than  to  secure  the  blessings  for  her  soiil  which  his 
 presence  so  richly  offered ;  while  her  more  spiritual  sister, 
 Mary,  gave  herself  wholly  to  listening  to  the  words  of  life  from 
 the  lips  of  the  Saviour.  Martha,  finding  all  the  cares  of  the 
 family  thrown  upon  her,  complained  to  Jesus  thereof;  and  he 
 made  vise  of  the  occasion  to  impress  upon  her  mind  the  general 
 truth  which  he  so  often,  and  under  so  many  diversified  forms, 
 taught  to  his  hearers  :  ''Mart/ta,  thoit  art  careful  and  troubled 
 about  inany  ilmigs,  hut  one  thing  is  needful;^  and  Mary  hath 
 diosen  that  good  2>a'>'t  (that  which  is  good  in  itself;  the  only 
 worthy  aim  of  human  efibrt),  which  shall  not  he  taken  from  Jier 
 (a  possession  that  shall  be  everlasting,  not  perishable,  like 
 these  worldly  tilings)." 
 
 It  is  wholly  contrary  to  the  sense  of  history  to  interpret  this 
 narrative  [as  some  do]  so  as  to  make  Martha  represent  the 
 practical  and  Mary  the  contem2)lati've  tendency,  and  thence  to 
 infer  that  Christ  ascribes  superiority  to  the  latter.  The  anti- 
 thesis is  between  that  tnrn  of  mind  wliich  forgets,  in  a  multi- 
 plicity of  objects,  the  one  fimdamental  aim;  and  that,  on  the 
 other  hand,  which  devotes  itself  solely  to  the  one  object  from 
 which  all  others  should  proceed.  Christ  demands  of  his  fol- 
 lowers constant  activity  in  his  service,  and  therefore  could  not 
 have  approved  an  entii-ely  contemplative  spiiit.  What  he 
 honours  in  Mary  is  the  spiiit  wliich  ovight  to  be  the  centre 
 and  animating  principle  of  all  activity.  It  is  tme,  Martha  is 
 more  practical  and  worldly;  Mary  more  contemplative  and 
 spiritual ;  but  these  manifestations  do  not  necessarily  indicate 
 character;  although  in  this  instance  (and,  indeed,  commonly) 
 the  manifestation  corresponds  to  the  character.  It  was  not 
 necessary  that  Martha's  multiplied  cares  should  distract  her 
 from  the  one  thing  needful ;  Christ  blamed  her,  not  for  her 
 cares,  but  for  not  making  them  subordinate — for  so  surrender- 
 ing herself  to  them  as  to  put  the  greater  interest  in  the  back- 
 ground. 
 
 §  230. — Tlie  Siclness  of  Lazarus ;    Clirist's  Hephj  to  the  Messenc/ei'S  who 
 informed  him  of  it.     (.John  xi.  1-4.) 
 
 While  Christ  was  in  Pertea,  about  a  day's  journey  fi-om 
 Bethany,  Lazarus,  the  brother  of  Martha  and  Mary,  was  taken 
 
 *  This  clause  is  wanting  in  Cod.  Cantab,  and  other  Latin  authorities ; 
 but  nothing  would  be  lost  to  the  sense  even  if  it  were  left  out ;  for  "that 
 good  part  which  cannot  be  lost  "  is  the  "  one  thing"  to  which  life  should 
 be  supremely  devoted,  in  contrast  with  the  "many  things"  which  waste 
 and  dissipate  a  divided  mind. 
 
 2b2 
 
372  CHRIST  IN  BETHANY. 
 
 sick,  and  the  sisters  sent  to  inform  the  Savionr  of  it,  doubtless 
 in  the  hope  of  obtaining  his  assistance.  Hjs  reply  gave  this 
 consolation,  at  least,  to  the  sisters — that  theu*  brother  should 
 not  be  separatp.d  from  them  by  death ;  although  its  true  import 
 was  not  obvioxis  until  afterward:  "This  sickriess  is  not  unto 
 death,  but  for  tlie  glory  of  God,  that  the  Son  of  God  might  be  ijlo- 
 rified  thereby." 
 
 Now,  as  Lazarus  actually  died,  these  words  appear  to  need 
 explanation.  Did  Christ,  in  view  of  the  symptoms  that  -were 
 repoi'ted  to  him,  really  tliink  that  Lazai'us  woidd  not  die?  and 
 was  the  object  of  his  message  simply  to  console  the  sisters  with 
 the  assm-ance  that  the  mercy  and  poAver  of  God  would  be  glo- 
 rified in  themselves  and  their  brother,  by  saving  the  latter 
 from  death?  Was  the  latter  part  of  the  message,  "That  the 
 Son  might  be  glorified,"  added  by  the  Evangelist  lumself,  in- 
 cor])orating  his  own  explanation  >vith  Christ's  words? 
 
 Certainly  we  shall  not  assei-t  that  Christ  coidd  not  but  fore- 
 know, infallibly,  in  the  exercise  of  his  superluiman  knowledge, 
 the  result  of  the  disease ;  it  may  have  been  the  case  that  he 
 described  it,  in  view  of  the  symptoms  at  the  time,  as  not  neces- 
 sarily fatal,  although  it  afterward  took  another  turn.  But  if 
 all  tlds  were  granted,  there  is  sometliing  else  to  be  considered. 
 Christ  coidd  not,  consistently  with  his  character,  have  given  so 
 positive  a  prediction  on  the  deceptive  eAddence  of  mere  svmj>- 
 toms;  he  could  not  have  mocked  his  friends  with  baseless 
 hopes,  so  soon  to  be  scattered.  We  must  take  it  for  gi'anted, 
 therefore,  that  his  confidence  was  founded  on  a  far  sm-er  basis; 
 it  was  the  Divine  nature,  dwelling  in  Mm,  that  illuminated  his 
 human  mind.  To  be  sure,  it  is  2>ossible  that  liis  confident  con- 
 viction that  Lazarus  would  be  saved  may  have  been  coupled 
 with  uncertainty  as  to  whether  he  should  be  saved  from  sick- 
 ness, or  from  death;  but  the  language  of  his  reply,  although  it 
 might  admit  this  construction,  is  not  at  all  inconsistent  ^vith. 
 absolute  certainty  on  his  part  that  Lazarus  would  die.  Tlie 
 rei)ly  was  intended  to  comfort  the  sisters,  and  to  them  it  could 
 make  wo  difierence  whether  their  brother  was  saved  from  aj)- 
 partiiit  or  i-eal  death,  in  case  the  latter  were  of  short  duration. ; 
 and  Christ  may,  therefore,  have  Avished  to  avoid  i^resent- 
 ing  the  naked  idea  of  death  in  liis  words.  And  the  jiartial 
 ambiguity  of  his  language  may  also  have  been  designed  to  test 
 the  faith  of  the  sisters.  It  is  possible  that  \vith  this  \dew  he 
 uttered  the  words  "  Wip  rijc  coHtjq  tov  $^tov,"  and  stepped  there, 
 the  rest  being  (possibly)  added  by  the  Evangelist. 
 
THE  DEATH  OF  LAZARUS.  373 
 
 §  231. —  The  Death  of  Lazarus;  Chmfs  Conversation  with  (lie  Disciples  in 
 regard  to  it.     (John  xi.  11,  seq.) 
 
 The  affliction  of  Lazaiiis  determined  Jesus  to  leave  Pcraea, 
 where  liis  labovii-s  had  been  so  frnitfuL  Still,  lie  remained 
 there  two  days  (v.  C),  continumg  his  ministry.  But  although 
 his  course  was  thus  decided  hy  circumstances,  he  very  well 
 knew  that  the  result  would  jjroduce  the  happiest  religious 
 eflects  upon  the  sisters. 
 
 It  was  probably  on  the  very  evening  of  the  return  of  the 
 messengers  that  Lazarus  died.  Wliat  comfoxi;  could  Christ's 
 encouraging  language  now  afford  them  !  The  word  of  promise 
 seemed  to  be  bi'oken;  lils  word,  whom  they  had  always  known 
 as  the  Faithful  and  True;  his  word,  wliich  they  had  never 
 seen  come  to  naught.  What  conflicting  feelings  must  have 
 struggled  for  the  mastery  in  their  hearts  !  Either  they  sent  a 
 second  messenger  to  the  SaAiour,^  or  the  latter  became  aware 
 of  the  event  by  his  own  supei-natural  knowledge.  When  he 
 announced  to  his  disciples  that  Lazarus  "slept,"  they  thought 
 at  first  that  he  had  heard  it  in  some  way,  and  took  it  as  a  sign 
 of  recovery.?  Thereupon  he  said  to  them  in  express  terms, 
 **  Lazarus  is  dead;  and  I  am  glad  for  yoiir  sakes  that  I  teas  not 
 tliere,  to  tlie  intent  ye  may  believe''''  (still  further).  Not,  however, 
 by  any  means  asserting  that  he  had  purposely  stayed  away, 
 that  Lazarus  might  die  and  their  faith  be  confirmed  by  his 
 resurrection;  but,  in  fact,  implying  that  although  his  delay 
 had  been  caused  by  other  reasons,  he  rejoiced  at  the  means  it 
 would  afford  of  strengthening  their  faith  at  a  time  when  siich 
 rude  shocks  were  at  hand.  His  words  imply,  also,  that  if  he 
 had  been  in  Bethany,  he  would  not  have  suffered  the  family  to 
 reach  such  a  pitch  of  anguish  merely  for  the  sake  of  relieving 
 them,  and  displajdng  the  liighest  degree  of  mix*aciUous  power 
 
 ^  John's  not  mentioning  a  second  messenger  (v.  11)  does  not  prove  that 
 none  was  sent.  Moreover,  when  John  is  giving  any  instance  of  the 
 exercise  of  Christ's  supernatural  knowledge,  he  generally  intimates  it  in 
 some  way  ;  here  he  gives  no  such  intimation.  When  Christ  told  the  dis- 
 ciples that  Lazarus  '■'  slept,"  they  understood  his  words  in  a  natural  sense  ; 
 and  it  appears  most  probable  that  they  thought  he  had  received  a  message 
 from  the  sisters.  Be  the  case  decided  as  it  may,  John's  language  is  not 
 such  as  would  be  used  by  a  man  who  wished  to  give  special  prominence  to 
 the  supernatural. 
 
 ^  The  disciples  knew,  at  least,  that  persons  believed  to  be  dead  had  been 
 restored  by  C'hrist  ;  they  knew,  also,  that  "sleep"  was  a  common  image 
 of  death  ;  yet  their  misunderstanding  is  by  no  means  inexjdicable,  as  some 
 suppose ;  nor  does  it  throw  the  least  shade  upon  the  credibility  of  the 
 Evauijelist. 
 
374  CHRIST  IN  BETHANY. 
 
 afterward ;  in  compassion  to  tlieir  grief  he  would  not  have  suf- 
 fered the  sick  man  to  die.  Just  as  a  merciful  man  employs 
 natui'al  means  to  relieve  suffering  according  to  the  circiun- 
 stances,  so  Christ  made  use  of  his  su2)er-nat\u-al  power;  Avith 
 this  difference,  however,  that  the  aims  of  his  Divine  calling 
 were  always  kept  in  -view  in  the  exercise  of  those  powei-s.  For 
 this  reason,  too,  he  did  not  cure  all  the  sick  around  him. 
 
 His  decision  to  go  to  Bethany  astonished  and  alarmed  the 
 disciples  to  sucli  an  extent,  that  they  lost  sight  of  theii'  higher 
 expectations  from  him  as  Messiah,  and  of  their  higher  xiew  of 
 his  person.  It  was  characteristic  of  Thomas,  who  was  more  in 
 bondage  to  sense  than  the  others,  to  give  utterance  to  his 
 anxiety  more  prominently  (v.  1 6) ;  and,  iu  fact,  this  anxiety 
 must  have  appeared  out  of  place  to  the  disciples  liad  they  kept 
 in  view  their  ordinary  conceptions  of  Messiah. 
 
 The  Savdour  now  set  himself  to  dispel  the  clouds  which  their 
 fears  had  created ;  to  revive  theii-  higher  intuition  of  his  person 
 and  their  just  sense  of  communion  with  him ;  and  to  remind 
 them  that,  in  the  few  remaining  days  in  which  they  were  to 
 enjoy  his  j^ersonal  guidance,  they  should  submit  to  it  implicitly 
 and  ti-ustfiilly.  They  were  accustomed  to  hear  him  compare 
 himself  -with  the  natui'al  sun,  shedding  its  beams  upon  the 
 earth  dm-mg  certain  fixed  hoiu's;^  and  it  was,  perhaps,  in  allu- 
 sion to  this  symbol  that  he  now  said,'  "Are  there  not  twelve 
 hours  in  the  day?  If  any  man  tvaJk  in  the  day  lie  stunibletJi 
 not,  because  he  seeth  the  light  of  this  loorld."  So  the  disciples,  so 
 long  as  they  had  the  Sun  of  the  s])iritual  world  to  guide  them 
 with  his  light,  were  to  follow  him  without  fear  or  cai'e.  "J^ut 
 if  a  man  iccdk  in  the  night  lie  stumhleth,  because  there  is  no  light 
 in  him."  So,  in  the  time  then  rapidly  approaching,  when  they 
 should  lose  this  light,  they  were  to  choose  their  way  with 
 caution,  lest  they  sliould  stumble.  Yet,  in  the  mean  time,  the 
 higher  life  was  to  become  independent  -within  them,  so  far  that 
 they  should  not  need  tliis  sensible  guidance ;  inward  communion 
 *Vith  the  Light  of  the  World  was  to  supply  the  place  of  his 
 ^^^sible  presence,  as  Christ  afterward  told  them  in  his  last  dis- 
 '^^  rses.     In  this  spiritual  sense,  it  is  always  true  that  Christ 
 
 P^'".'^  IE  Light  of  the  World. 
 and  (. 
 
 ing   thfen  ix.  5  ;  cf.  p.  323,  327.     A  similar  figure,  Liike  xi.  33  :  Tlie  light 
 
 ambiguitot  but  sliine.     Cf.  p.  246,  2G7. 
 
 the  f iiitli '  S^'^^  ^'^'^  enigmatical  without  this  allusion  ;  with  it,  they  aro 
 
 uttered  the  . 
 
 the  rest  being 
 
THE  DEATH  OF  LAZAKUS.  375 
 
 §  232. — The  Death  of  Zazartis. — Christ's  Conversation  with  3fartha  (John 
 xi.  21-2S)  and  with  Mary  (v.  33,  34). — Jesus  Weejys  (v.  35). 
 
 The  intelligence  of  Christ's  approach  to  Bethany  reached 
 Martha  soouer  than  her  less  practical  sister.  IMary,  lost  in 
 giief,  gave  no  heed  to  the  bnsy  world  about  her.  The  former 
 went  out  to  meet  the  Saviour;  and  when  she  saw  him  who 
 had  done  so  many  mighty  works,  and  whom  she  beheved  to  be 
 Messiah,  a  ray  of  hope  beamed  into  her  soul,  but  she  hardly 
 dared  to  cherish  it.  "Lord,  haclst  thou  been  Jier.',  my  brother 
 had  not  died;  hut  I  knmo  that  even  now,  ivhatsoever  thou  icilt 
 ash  of  God,  God  zvill  give  it  tliee."  Jesus  replied,  "  Thy  brother 
 siwll  rise  again;"  referring  directly  to  her  own  words,  and  not 
 to  the  futiu'e  resiu'rection ;  for  had  he  wished  to  give  her  that 
 consolation,  he  would  not  have  done  it  in  such  bare  and  naked 
 tei'ms.  He  wished  to  confirm  her  ho^^e,  but  yet  did  it  in 
 rather  indefinite  language,  either  designedly,  or  because  her 
 impatience  intennipted  him.  HLs  language  was  too  general  to 
 satisfy  her  feehngs;  she  wished  a  definite  assurance  that  Laza- 
 rus should  be  raised;  and,  therefore,  said,  "/  knoiv  that  he  shall 
 rise  again  in  the  resurrection  of  the  last  day ;''  intimating  what 
 she  did  not  venture  to  express,  Adz.  her  Avisli  first  mentioned. 
 Glirist  made  use  of  her  misunderstanding  (as  was  his  wont)  to 
 lead  her  mind  to  the  great  central  ti-uth  of  religion — the 
 ground  of  all  the  believer's  hopes — as  the  source  of  a  new  hope 
 in  her  brother's  case.  He  points  to  himself  as  the  true  life, 
 the  soui'ce  of  all  Ufe,  the  author  of  aU  resurrection :  "/  am  tJie 
 resurrection  ami  the  life;  he  that  believeth  in  tne,  tlwugh  he  loere 
 dead,  yet  sluiU  lie  live;  and  whosoever  liveth  and  believeth  in  me 
 duM  never  die."  He  then  asked  her  the  direct  question,  "Be- 
 Uevest  tliou  this?"  Ho  intended  to  teach  her  that  the  faith  of 
 Lazarus  had  been  rewarded  by  a  life  beyond  the  power  of 
 death ;  and  that  He,  the  author  of  the  resurrection  and  of  a 
 life  wliich  death  could  not  even  internipt,  coidd  now  also  call 
 her  dead  brother  back  again  to  life. 
 
 Although  she  did  not  fully  comprehend  his  words,  they  gave 
 her  new  hopes ;  and,  after  expressing  anew  her  faith  in  him  as 
 the  Messiah — which  included  for  her  all  thinjjs  else — she 
 hastened  away  to  call  her  broken-hearted  sister,  who  had  not 
 even  yet  heard  of  the  Saviour's  appi'oach.  Nothing  could 
 rouse  her  from  her  profoinid  and  passive  grief  but  her  love  for 
 Him  to  whose  words  of  life  she  had  so  often  sun-endered  her- 
 
376  CHRIST  IN  BETHA>Tr. 
 
 self,  as  passively  and  humbly.  She  hastened  toward  Jesus. 
 The  Jews  that  were  condoling  with  her  in  the  house,  feax"ing 
 that  she  was  going  to  her  brother's  grave  to  give  up  to  an 
 excess  of  sorrow,  followed  after.  She  saw  Jesus,  but  offeretl 
 no  such  request  as  her  sister  had  done ;  falling  at  his  feet,  she 
 only  cried,  "  Lord,  if  thou  hculst  been  here,  my  brother  had  not 
 died."  Tears  choked  her  further  utterance ;  nor,  indeed,  was 
 it  her  wont  to  anticipate  Him  whom  her  soul  so  revered  and 
 loved.  The  Jews  around,  sympathizing  in  her  sorrow,  could 
 not  refrain  from  tears. 
 
 And  Jesus  wept  in  the  depth  of  his  compassion.  It  has 
 been  inferred  from  this,  that  although  he  hoped  to  restore 
 Lazarus,  he  was  not  as  yet  sure  of  it ;  had  he  been  so  (it  is  said), 
 the  consciousness  that  he  was  soon  to  turn  the  mourning  intx) 
 joy  would  have  banished  all  grief  from  his  mind.  But  surely 
 the  expressions  of  bitter  lamentation,  the  tears  and  agony  of 
 all  around,  were  enough  to  stii'  the  compassionate  heart  of 
 Him  who  sympatliized  so  deeply  with  all  human  feelings,  even 
 though  he  knew  that  he  should  soon  remove  the  cause  of  grief 
 itself  A  physician  (though  the  analogy  is  utterly  inadequate), 
 standing  by  the  bedside  of  a  patient  surrounded  by  weeping 
 fi'iends,  may  well  be  affected  by  their  grief,  though  he  may  be 
 sure,  so  far  as  human  skill  can  give  surety,  that  he  \^n]l  heal 
 the  disease.  And  we  must  bear  in  mind,  too,  that  Christ  was 
 Man  as  well  as  God;  and  that  the  blending  of  the  Godhead 
 and  the  manhood,  the  Divine  infaUibDity  with  the  human 
 hesitancy,  must,  in  the  A-ery  nature  of  the  case,  offer  many 
 enigmas  for  our  contemplation. 
 
 The  Evangelist  gives  a  graphic  description  of  the  effects 
 produced  upon  the  Jews  around  by  the  sight  of  the  tears  of 
 Jesus.  The  better  disposed  saw  in  them  only  a  manifestation 
 of  his  love  for  Lazarus.  Others  affected  to  doultt  the  truth  of 
 liis  miracles;  he  loved  Lazarus  and  his  family;  wliy  did  he  not 
 saA^e  him?  "Cotdd  not  this  man,  tvhich  opened  tlie  eyes  of  the 
 blindji  liave  caused  that  even  this  man  slioidd  not  Imve  diedV 
 
 1  Strauss  finds  a  contradiction  here  between  John  and  the  other  Evan- 
 gelists :  "  The  Jews  quote  only  the  curinrj  of  the  hlind;  wliy  did  they  not 
 quote  the  raising  of  the  dead,  of  which  the  other  Evangelists  give  several 
 instances  1"  But  how  do  we  know  that  these  Jews  at  the  city  were 
 acquainted  with  what  had  occurred  in  Galilee  ?  Was  it  not  natural  for 
 them  to  recur  to  the  miraculous  act  performed  by  Christ  in  the  city  itself 
 so  short  a  time  before,  and  which  had  e.vcited  such  virulent  opposition 
 against  him  ?  If  John's  Gospel  were  an  invention,  the  inventor  must  have 
 heard  other  narratives  of  Christ's  rais'ng  the  dead  ;  and  had  he  wished,  as 
 
THE  RAISING  OF  LAZARUS.  377 
 
 §  233. — Tlic  Resurrection  of  Lazarus. — The  Prayer  of  Chi-isi.     (John  xi. 
 38-44.) 
 
 When  the  stone  was  about  to  be  lifted  from  tlie  giixve, 
 Martha,*^  whose  heart  fluctuated  between,  hope  and  fear,  gave 
 new  utterance  to  her  doubts:  ''■Lord,  by  this  time  lie  stinketh;^ 
 for  lie  luitli  been  dead  four  days'''  Jesus  said  unto  her,  "  Said  I 
 Qvot  unto  tliee,  that  if  thou  tvouldst  believe,  thou  shouldst  see  the 
 glory  of  God  1^^  (see  God  glorify  himself  in  the  effects  of  his 
 Almighty  mercy). 
 
 Then  looking  dovvTi  into  the  grave,  and  assured  that  Lazanis 
 would  rise,  as  though  the  miracle  were  ak-eady  wrouglit,  he 
 offex-s  first  his  thanksgiving  to  the  Father :  "  Fatlier,  I  tlmnh 
 Oiee  tliat  thou  hast  heard  me;  and  I  knew  tliat  thou  liearest  mo 
 always;  but  because  of  tlie  people  which  stand  by,  I  said  it,  tluii 
 they  may  believe  tliat  thou  hast  sent  me.'"  jNIeaning  that  his 
 utterance  of  thanks  did  not  imply  that  he  only  then  bccanx; 
 conscious  of  power  to  raise  up  Lazai-us.  Pi-ayer  and  thanks- 
 giving were  not  isolated  fragments  of  Christ's  life ;  his  whole 
 life  was  one  prayer  and  one  tlianksgiving ;  for  he  knew  tliat 
 the  heavenly  Father  heard  him  in  all  things,  and  always 
 granted  the  powers  needful  to  his  calling.  He  made  this 
 public,  individual  thanksgiving,  to  testify  to  those  around  that 
 he  did  this,  like  all  his  other  acts,  as  the  messenger  of  the 
 Father,  and  considered  it,  as  aU  things  else,  his  Father's  gift. 
 
 This  prayer  has  led  some  to  distinguish  this  mii-acle  from 
 othei-s  as  one  not  accomplished  by  Christ's  indwelling  Divine 
 powei",  but  by  God  for  him ;  to  class  it,  in  fact,  among  answers 
 to  prayer.  But  as  Christ's  whole  life  was  one  prayer,  in  the 
 sense  just  mentioned,  as  he  always  acted  in  unity  with  God,  in 
 il\c  form  of  dependence,  he  coidd  have  expressed  himself  iu 
 
 must  have  been  the  case,  to  invent  a  stronger  example  than  any  of  those 
 recorded,  he  would  surely  have  alluded  to  them.  The  question,  then,  is 
 just  as  applicable  if  the  narrative  be  fictitious  as  if  it  be  true. 
 
 ''  The  conduct  of  ilartha  and  Mary  is  in  entire  harmony  with  their 
 characters  ;  the  former  doubts,  and  expresses  her  doubt  j  the  latter  looks 
 on  in  silence. 
 
 '  We  must  grant  that  those  are  right  who  say  that  this  expression  of 
 Martha's  is  no  proof  that  corruption  had  commenced  in  the  corpse. 
 
 "  The  reference  of  the  words  uipiL  ti'iv  oiiiai'  tou  Siiov  is  doubtful. 
 Some  refer  them  to  the  reply  to  the  messengers,  John  xi.  4.  In  that  reply 
 nothing  is  said  of  "believing,"  but  faith  is  silently  pre-supposed.  Otliers 
 refer  them  to  Christ's  words  addressed  directly  to  Martha  (v.  25),  in  which 
 faith  is  expressly  required.  It  is  true,  the  words  "  6\}/(t,"  &c.  are  not  given 
 in  that  verse  expressly,  but  it  contains,  as  we  have  already  remarked,  the 
 basis  of  a  promise  of  the  kind,  only  not  announced. 
 
«376  CHRIST  IN  BETHAXY. 
 
 fJie  same  terms  in  regard  to  any  of  Ms  mii-acles.  And  although 
 Lazarus  did  not  lise  until  the  voice  of  Jesus  called  liim  forth, 
 he  could  thank  God  for  it  as  an  act  acliieved,  in  his  certainty 
 of  at  once  accomplishing  it ;  and,  in  so  dorug,  testify  that  the 
 power  to  do  it  was  from  God."! 
 
 §  234. — Meamrea  taken  against  Christ  by  tlie  Sanhedrim.  (John  xi.  47,  seq.) 
 The  raising  of  Lazanxs  exerted  an  important  influence  in 
 bringing  about  the  final  catastrophe  of  Chiist's  life.  On  the 
 one  hand,  it  led  many  to  believe  in  his  Di\T.ne  calling,  and,  on 
 the  other,  it  decided  the  ruling  Pharisaic  party  to  adopt  more 
 violent  measures  against  Mm.  They  were  now  satisfied  that 
 their  sentence  of  excommunication  °  had  not  coimteracted  the 
 impi'essions  which  his  ministry  had  made  upon  the  minds  of 
 the  people;  and  feared  that,  if  they  let  him  alone,  all  men 
 would  believe  on  him  as  Messiah.  In  view  of  the  threatened 
 danger,  a  council  of  the  Sanhedrim  was  summoned.  Men  who 
 were  in  the  liabit  of  sacrificing  the  peace  of  the  state  to  their 
 own  passions  now  made  it  a  plea  for  vigorous  steps  against 
 
 "  Tlie  omission  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus  in  the  first  three  Gospels  has 
 been  adduced  as  an  argxunent  against  its  credibility.  Were  it  not  that 
 other  events  are  omitted  in  the  same  way,  and  were  we  not  able  to  account 
 for  it  by  the  peculiar  character,  origin,  and  aims  of  John's  Gospel,  the 
 argument  might  have  more  weight.  To  seek  a  special  reason  for  the  omis- 
 sion in  this  case  could  lead  to  nothing  but  arbitrary  hvpotheses.  But  it  is 
 sufficiently  explained  by  the  geiieral  reason,  viz.  that  the  former  Gospels 
 contain  only  traditions  of  the  ministry  of  Christ  at  Jerusalem,  followed  by 
 an  account  of  his  last  stay  in  that  city.  In  this  outline  there  is  no  point 
 at  which  the  raising  of  Lazarus  would  naturally  and  necessarily  be  joined. 
 It  has  been  said  that  the  intention  to  exaggerate  is  ob^-ious  in  John's 
 Gospel,  which  always  sets  forth  the  miracles  which  it  records  as  the  highest 
 possible,  e.  g.  the  cure  of  the  palsy  of  38  years'  standing  ;  of  the  man  that 
 was  horn  blind  ;  the  raising  of  Lazarus,  &c.  In  reply  to  this,  we  might 
 admit  that  John,  having  an  apologetic  object,  only  selected,  from  the 
 abundant  materials  furnished  by  the  Evangelical  history,  a  few  events 
 illustrating  in  the  highest  degree  the  to'ia  of  Christ ;  but  this  admission 
 would  not  affect  the  veracity  of  his  narrative  in  the  slightest  degree.  But 
 the  healing  of  tliC  lepers,  one  of  the  most  marked  displays  of  miraculous 
 power,  is  omitted  by  John  ;  while  the  fecdinf;  of  the  five  thousand,  the  very 
 highest  of  them  all,  is  given  by  the  other  Evangelists  as  well  as  by  him. 
 A  high  degree  of  miraculous  power,  therefore,  was  not  the  sole  ground  on 
 which  John  selecteil  the  miracles  that  he  recorded ;  he  had  regard,  also,  partly 
 to  their  connexion  with  Christ's  discourses,  and  partly  to  their  connexion 
 with  the  course  of  the  facts  in  his  history.  This  last  holds  good  esjjecially 
 of  the  narrative  in  question — that  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus.  It  connects 
 with  the  course  of  his  life  the  triumplial  entry  into  Jerusalem,  and  the 
 enthusiasm  of  the  people  in  his  favour  ;  and  it  also  explains  the  resolution 
 soon  taken  by  the  Sanhedrim  to  put  liim  out  of  the  way.  And  this,  in 
 turn,  confirms  the  veracity  of  the  narrative  itself.  "  Cf.  p.  326. 
 
THE  NECESSITY  FOR  CHKIST's  DEATH.  379 
 
 Clu-ist.  "  If  the  tiling  is  allowed  to  go  on,  all  will  believe  on 
 him.  The  peojile  will  proclaim  him  king;  and  the  Romans 
 will  come  and  take  away  what  power  and  nationality  they 
 have  left  us."  Caiaphas,  the  high-priest,  adopting  the  "Naew 
 thus  pi'esented,  said,  "  It  is,  at  any  rate,  better  that  one  should 
 die  for  all,  than  that  the  whole  nation  should  perish."  And 
 without  any  legal  investigation  of  the  ciiminality  of  Jesus,  it 
 was  resolved,  on  pretext  of  the  safety  of  the  state,  by  the  ma- 
 jor'ity  (against  whose  vehemence  a  few  more  moderate  membex'S 
 could  do  nothing),  that  he  must  die.  The  mode  of  liis  death 
 was  to  be  subsequently  decided  on,  according  to  circumstances. 
 An  order  was  issued  for  the  seizure  of  his  person,  in  case  he 
 shoidd  attend  the  Feast  of  the  Passover  at  Jerusalem. 
 
 CHAPTER  XVI. 
 
 JESUS  IN  EPHRAIM. 
 §  235.— The  Necessity  for  Christ's  Death. 
 
 To  avoid  the  snares  of  his  enemies,  and  secure  a  short  season 
 of  undistiirbed  intercourse  with  the  disciples  before  the  close 
 of  liis  career  on  earth,  Jesus  retired  into  the  obscure  village  of 
 Epiiraim,^  in  the  desert  of  Judea,  several  miles  i  north  of  Jeru- 
 salem. He  knew  that  in  travelling  to  the  Passover  at  the 
 city  he  should  be  overcome  by  the  machinations  of  the  Phari- 
 sees, and  be  put  to  death.  The  question  may  be  asked,  Why, 
 then,  did  he  not  keep  himself  concealed  still  longer?  He 
 might  then  have  cai'iied  on  the  still  defective  religious  training 
 of  liis  disciples,  and  might,  also,  have  prepared  a  greater  num- 
 ber of  agents  to  disseminate  liLs  truth. 
 
 So,  indeed,  it  might  be  said  if  he  had  been  a  mere  teacher  of 
 tiiith,  like  other  men.  Even  though  at  last  he  had  to  fall  a 
 ^^ctim  to  the  hierarcliical  party,  he  might  thus  have  gained 
 some  time,  at  least,  for  the  training  of  liis  followers ;  a  work  of 
 the  highest  possible  importance,,  as  eveiything,  in  the  develop- 
 ment of  his  work,  depended  upon  the  way  in  which  they  a})pre- 
 hended  hi's  doctrine.  But  the  doctrine  of  Jesus  was  not  a 
 .system  of  general  conceptions;  it  was  founded  upon  a  fact, 
 viz.  that  in  Him  had  been  manifested  the  end  to  which  all 
 previous  revelations  to  the  Jewish  people  had  been  but  pre- 
 paratory ;  that  He  was  the  aim  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Old 
 Testament ;  that  in  Hlvi  the  kingdom  of  God  was  retdized. 
 Of  tliis  fact,  to  which  his  whole  previous  ministry  had  bonie 
 
 P  Jolrn  xi.  54.  q  According  to  Jerome,  20  ijoman  miles. 
 
380  CHRIST  IN  EPHEAIM. 
 
 witness,  lie  liad  now  to  testify  openly  before  tlie  face  of  liis 
 enemies.  Moreover,  his  laboiu-s  in  Galilee,  and  the  raising  of 
 Lazarus  at  Bethany,  had  raised  the  expectations  of  the  people 
 to  the  highest  pitch  (John  xi.  5G);  and  many  who  had  gone 
 up  to  the  city  before  the  Passover  to  pvuify  themselves  were 
 anxious  to  know  whether  he  would  venture  to  come  in  sjiite 
 of  the  hostile  intentions  of  the  Sanhedrim.  To  stay  away  then, 
 would  have  been  to  lose  the  most  favoiu'able  juncture;  and  to 
 manifest  both  fear  of  his  enemies  and  distrust  of  his  own  Di^'ine 
 calling  to  the  Messiahsliip.  Now  was  the  time,  when  the  rage 
 of  the  Pharisees  was  at  its  highest,  in  the  face  of  their  sentence 
 and  thek  threats,  to  bear  witness  to  himself  openly  as  JMessiah. 
 He  did  not  seek  death,  but  went  to  meet  it  in  the  execution  of 
 his  calling,  in  obedience  to  the  Di\Tne  v.dll,  and  with  a  love  to 
 God  and  man  that  was  ready  for  any  sacrifice.^"  And  he  was 
 assured  that  precisely  by  his  death  was  the  great  object,  to 
 which  in  holy  love  he  had  devoted  his  whole  life,  to  be  fully 
 realized. 
 
 As  for  the  imperfect  training  of  his  disciples,  it  must  have 
 caused  him  uneasiness  had  he  not  been  able  to  rely  (as  no 
 human  teacher  could  do)  upon  his  own  continued  operation, 
 and  that  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  in  their  hearts  and  minds,  to 
 complete  their  culture.  With  tliis  presupposition  he  could  not 
 but  be  confident  that  his  separation  from  them  would  further 
 their  independent  development,  as  he  liimself  told  them  after- 
 ward in  his  closing  conversations  "with  them. 
 
 CHAPTER  XYII. 
 
 Christ's  last  passover  journey  to  jerus^vlem. 
 
 §  236. — Journey  to  Jericho. — The  Healing  of  Mind  Bartimeus.     (INIatt.  xx. 
 30,  seq.  ;  Luke  xviii.  35,  seq.  ;  Mark  x.  46,  seq.) 
 
 Christ  did  not  go  directly  from  E})liraim  to  Jerusalem,  but 
 passed  first  eastwardly  towards  the  Jordan,  to  the  \dcinity  of 
 Jericho,  a  small  town  al)0ut  six  hours ^  distant  from  the  metro- 
 polis. Here  he  could  meet  the  caravan  coming  from  Galileo 
 to  the  feast.*-     Various  reasons  may  be  assigned  for  this  course 
 
 '  There  must  be  a  right  conception  of  Christ's  self-sacrifice  as  a  moral 
 act,  in  connexion  with  his  whole  calling,  in  order  to  any  just  doctrinal 
 view  of  his  sufferings. 
 
 '     According  to  Josephus,  150  stadia. 
 
 *  Perhaps,  also,  he  took  his  way  through  Jericho  in  order  to  extend  hia 
 ministry  in  judea.  As  the  raising  of  Lazarus  is  not  mentioned  by  the 
 three  first  Evangelists,  so  the  retirement  into  Ephraim,  nearly  connected 
 with  the  former  event,  is  only  to  be  found  in  John.     Apaa"t  from  the  latter. 
 
BLIND  BARTIMEUS.  381 
 
 on  tlic  part  of  Clinst :  a  vnsh  not  to  fall  at  once  into  the  hands 
 of  the  Sanhedi-im;  or  to  meet  the  Galilean  multitudes  on 
 •whom  his  nmiistiy  had  produced  such  powerful  effects;  or,  by- 
 means  of  the  festal  caravans,  to  cany  out  liis  plan  of  a  solemn 
 Messianic  entiy  into  Jemasalem.  And  as  this  last  might  excite 
 false  hopes  in  the  disciples,  it  was  the  more  necessarj^  to  im- 
 press iipon  them  anew  the  fact  that  his  kingdom  was  to  be 
 gloi-itied  by  his  sufferings,  and  not  to  be  established  in  earthly 
 and  \asible  splendour." 
 
 As  the  Sa^^our  entered  Jericho  attended  by  the  festal  cara- 
 vans, honouring  him  as  Theocratic  king,  there  sat,  not  far  from 
 the  gate  of  the  toNvn,  a  blind  beggar  named  Bartimeus,"'  who 
 heard  the  noise  of  the  procession,  and  inquiring  its  cause,  was 
 told  that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  jjassing  by.  He  then  cried  to 
 the  Messiah  for  mercy.  The  rebukes  of  many,  who  did  not 
 wish  liim  to  disturb  the  Theocratic  long  A^-ith  his  clamour,  had 
 no  effect  upon  liim.  Jesus  stood,  and  told  him  to  come  near. 
 Then  the  people,  knowdng  that  the  Saviour  called  none  whom 
 he  did  not  mean  to  hel]?,  said  to  the  blind  man,  "Be  of  good 
 comfort;  lie  ccdleth  thee."  He  cast  off  liis  gannent  to  run  the 
 fastei',  and  hastened  towards  Jesus.  He  was  healed,  and  fol- 
 lowed the  procession,  joining  in  the  general  Hosannah ! 
 
 we  sliould  lie  led  to  suppose  that  he  passed  through  Jericho  on  his  direct 
 way  I'rom  Galilee  to  Jerusalem. 
 
 "  Tlie  departure  from  Ephraim  connects  itself  naturally  with  Luke  xviii. 
 31  ;  why,  otherwise,  should  it  be  said  there  that  6f/o)-e  they  came  to  Jericho 
 he  "took  his  disciples  apart,  and  said  unto  them"  ?  &c. 
 
 "  According  to  Luke,  Christ  met  tlie  blind  man  on  entennff -the  town  ; 
 according  to  Matthew  and  Mark,  on  leaving  it  ;  and  Matthew,  besides, 
 speaks  of  two  blind  men.  It  is  easy  to  conceive  how  these  different  repre- 
 sentations of  the  same  event  could  arise  ;  the  only  question  is,  Avhich  has 
 tile  more  internal  probability  ?  Mark  not  only  gives  the  name  of  the  blind 
 man,  but  his  whole  account  is  so  graphic  and  circumstantial,  that  it  must 
 have  been  derived  from  the  report  of  an  eye  witness.  But  in  Luke  the 
 c\:nnexion  of  events  is  so  close  that  we  cannot  drop  a  single  link  ;  the  entry, 
 the  blind  man's  joining  the  procession,  its  passage  through  the  towii,  its 
 halt  at  the  house  of  Zaccheus  ;  all  hang  together  and  bear  the  evident 
 stamp  of  tiiith.  In  this  particular,  then,  we  follow  Luke.  Tlie  account 
 used  by  Mark,  perhaps,  stated  that  the  blind  man  joined  the  proce.f.sion  at 
 tlie  gate  and  went  forth  with  it ;  and  this  might  naturally  lead  to  the  sup- 
 
 Kosition  that  the  event  occurred  on  the  passage  out.  The  statement  of 
 latthew,  that  two  were  cured,  is  more  difficult.  It  may  be  expkiined 
 either  on  the  ground  that  two  accounts  were  blended  together,  or  that 
 two  blind  men  were  cured,  one  at  the  entrance,  the  other  at  the  outlet,  of 
 the  town.  (It  was  a  common  thing  for  blind  beggars  to  sit  at  the  gates.) 
 Tliis  supposition,  and  a  subsequent  blending  of  the  two  narratives,  would 
 account  not  only  for  Matthew's  mentioning  two  blind  men,  but  also  for  the 
 discrepancy  in  Mark  and  Luke  as  to  the  spot  of  the  cure. 
 
382  LAST  PASSOVER  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 §  237. — Christ  Zodffes  with  Zaccheus.  (Luke  xix.  2,  sc-q.) 
 The  liealing  of  the  blind  man  heightened  the  rejoicing  of 
 the  multitude.  But  Jesus  went  with  them  no  fui-ther;  per- 
 haps the  caravan  wished  to  reach  Jeinisalem  on  the  same  day."^ 
 In  the  suburbs  of  Jericho  lived  a  rich  publican,  named  Zac- 
 cheus,  who  probably  knew  Christ  by  the  reports  of  other  pub- 
 licans. Being  of  shoii;  stature,  he  climbed  a  tree,  in  order  to 
 see  Christ  when  the  procession  passed  by.  Ever  ready  to  wel- 
 come the  dawning  of  better  feelings  iai  the  hearts  of  sinners, 
 the  Saviour  looked  up,  and  said,  "  Zaccheics,^  make  Jcaste  and 
 come  doicn,  for  to-day  I  must  abide  at  thy  house."  The  love 
 with  which  Christ  met  his  desire  affected  him  more  deeply 
 than  anything  else  could  have  done ;  liis  heart  was  won ;  and 
 in  the  fulness  of  his  joy  he  vowed  to  prove  his  repentance  by 
 di^■iding  half  of  his  property  among  the  poor,  and  remunerating 
 four-fold  all  whom  he  had  overreached.  It  surpiised  many 
 that  He,  who  was  recognized  as  Theocratic  kuig,  should  go  to 
 "be  guest  with  a  man  that  was  a  sinnei'."  With  reference  to 
 this  feeling  Christ  said,  "This  day  is  sakatioii^  come  to  this 
 liouse,  forasmuch  as  lie  also  is  a  son  of  Abraham;  for  tJie  Son  of 
 Man  is  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that  ichich  teas  lost."  ^  And  this 
 was  only  an  appUcation  to  a  particular  case  of  the  general 
 tiTith,  that  it  was  his  mission  to  restore  agaui  the  image  of 
 God  that  had  been  defaced  in  luunanity. 
 
 §  238. — The  Request  of  Salome. — The  Amhition  of  the  Discijrdes  rebuJced. 
 (Matt.  XX.  20-28  ;  Mark  x.  35-45.) 
 
 The  worldly  views  of  Christ's  Messiahsliip,  wliicli  liad  been 
 revived  in  the  minds  of  the  disciples  by  the  reception  he  had 
 met  with  from  the  festal  caravan,   coidd    hardly  fail  to  be 
 
 "  It  was  but  a  short  distance  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem  ;  and  we  know 
 neither  at  what  point  Christ  joined  the  caravan,  nor  how  far  it  had  jour- 
 neyed that  tlay,  nor  what  time  of  the  day  it  was. 
 
 ^  Wliether  he  had  known  Zaccheus  before,  or  was  informed  of  his  name 
 by  the  bystanders,  is  of  no  moment.  Tlie  Evangelist  does  not  intimate 
 that  he  made  use  of  his  supernatural  knowledge  in  calling  the  man  by 
 name. 
 
 y  He  had  become  convinced  of  sin,  and  received  the  bringer  of  salvation 
 with  repentance  and  love. 
 
 '  Schleicnnacher  thinks  (ii.  174)  that  this  occurred  on  the  second  day, 
 after  the  aliiaJr  had  become  generally  kno'WTi.  We  see  no  sufficient  ground 
 for  this  supposition.  It  appears  from  the  whole  narrative  that  the  mur- 
 mvirs  of  the  people,  and  the  words  of  Zaccheus,  arose  from  an  immediate 
 impression.  Tlie  word  rrrjuipov  (Luke  xix.  9),  and  its  relation  to  aiijupov 
 (v.  5),  speaks  in  favour  of  our  view.  Schltiermachcr  seems  to  lay  too  much 
 Btress  on  aKovuvriov  (v.  11). 
 
THE  BEQUEST  OF  SALOMK  383 
 
 strengthened  by  what  occurred  in  Jericho.  His  own  teachings 
 had  not  yet  fully  convinced  them ;  and  these  imjiressions  upon 
 their  senses  was  sti'onger,  for  the  moment,  than  those  which 
 he  had  made  upon  their  souls. 
 
 The  sons  of  Salome,  James  and  John,  enjoyed  Christ's  closes* 
 intimacy ;  the  latter,  indeed,  always  sat  at  his  right  hand.  In 
 view  of  tliis  intimate  relation,  and  not  >\'ithout  the  knowledge 
 of  her  sons/''  she  came  to  Christ,  and  prayed  him,  that  when 
 Messiah's  kingdom  should  be  outwardly  realized,  her  two  sons 
 might  sit,  the  one  on  his  right  hand,  the  other  on  his  left. 
 
 As  usual,  Christ  did  not  combat  these  ideas  of  his  kingdom 
 directly  and  at  length ;  he  wished  to  desti-oy  the  root  in  the 
 hearts  of  his  followers.  He  taiTght  them  anew  that  they  were 
 to  share  with  Mm,  not  places  of  honour,  but  pains  and  suffer- 
 ings. "  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask.  Can  ye  drink  of  the  cup  (of 
 suffering)  that  I  shall  drink  of?"  To  this  they  repUed,  pro- 
 bably Avithout  duly  weighing  the  import  of  his  words,  "  We  ara 
 able."  And  he  answered :  "  I  can,  indeed,  impari  to  you  the 
 fellowship  of  my  sufferings ;  but  rank  in  the  kingdom  of  God 
 depends  not  upon  my  ■v\'ill,  but  tipon  the  allotment  of  the 
 Father"  (it  was  not  to  be  an  arbitrary  allotment,  but  tlie 
 highest  necessity  of  Divine  wisdom  and  justice). 
 
 The  chsciples  were  indignant  at  the  ambition  of  James  and 
 John ;  but  Christ  called  them  all  about  him,  and  showed  them 
 how  inconsistent  such  strifes  were  with  their  relations  to  each 
 crf;her  and  the  spiiit  that  ought  to  animate  them.  There  coidd 
 not  be  (he  told  them)  among  them  such  relations  of  superiority 
 and  subordiuation  as  existed  in  ci\al  communities ;  the  com- 
 munion of  the  Divine  kingdom  coidd  know  of  none  such.  They 
 were  to  emulate  each  other  only  in  seiwing  each  other  "svith 
 self-sacrificing  love ;  Uke  theii-  Lord  and  Master,  who  had  come, 
 not  to  be  ministered  imto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  sacrifice  his 
 life  for  the  ransom  of  many.  Wliosoever  was  greatest  in  this 
 was  the  greatest  among  them.'^ 
 
 "  According  to  Mark,  the  brothers  presented  the  request  directly  to 
 Christ ;  according  to  Matthew  (whicli  seems  the  more  Hkely),  they  did  it 
 tlirough  their  mother.  Christ's  address  to  them  (Matt.  xx.  22)  pre- 
 supposes that  really  the)/  made  the  request. 
 
 ^  Luke  does  not  give  this  narrative,  but  mentions  (xxii.  24)  a  similar 
 dispute  for  rank  among  the  disciples,  and  recites  these  similar  expressions 
 of  our  Lord.  It  is  probably  out  of  place,  as  such  a  contention  could  hardly 
 have  arisen  at  the  last  meal,  after  the  institution  of  the  Sacrament.  The 
 collocation  may  have  arisen  from  the  feet  that  the  symbolical  washing  of 
 feet,  so  striking  a  rebuke  of  this  ambitious  spirit,  was  connected  with  the 
 last  meal. 
 
384  LAST  PASSOVER  JOUKIJEY  TO  JERUSALE3I. 
 
 §  239. — Parahle  of  the  Pounds.  (Luke  xix.  11,  seq.) 
 Clirist  made  iiso  of  several  parables  during  this  last  period 
 of  liis  life,  while  his  disciples  were  stiU  expectuig  that  he  would 
 establish  a  ^^sible  kingdom,  to  give  them  purer  ideas  of  the 
 process  by  which  it  was  to  be  founded  and  developed.  Among 
 these  is  the  parable  of  the  Pounds,  wliich  Avas  given,  according 
 to  Luke,  just  as  they  left  Jericho,  expressly  because  "  he  was 
 nigh  to  Jerusalem,  and  they  thought  that  the  kingdom  of  God 
 shoi;ld  immediately  ajipear." 
 
 There  were  three  j)oint3  on  which  he  specially  sought  to  fix 
 their  attention,  \\z.  the  opjjosition  he  was  to  encounter  at  Je- 
 msalem ;  his  departure  from  them,  and  retm'n  at  a  later  period 
 to  subdue  his  foes  and  establish  his  kingdom  in  triumph ;  and 
 finally,  their  duty  to  labour  actively  in  the  interval,  and  not  to 
 await  in  indolence  the  achievement  of  victory  by  other  means, 
 without  their  co-operation.  He  particularly  aimed  to  show 
 them  that  the  iiosition  they  should  occupy  in  the  development 
 of  the  kingdom  of  God  would  depend  upon  theii'  zeal  and 
 activity  in  the  nse  of  the  means  entiiisted  to  them.  This  he 
 illustrated  under  the  figure  of  a  capital,  loaned  on  interest ; 
 the  same  amount,  viz.  one  onina,  is  committed  to  each  of  ten 
 seiwants,  and  in  proportion  to  the  gain  of  tliis,  whether  more 
 or  less,  is  the  station  assigned  to  them  by  their  master.  One 
 osaly  is  Avholly  rejected — he  that  guards  carefully  the  sum 
 committed  to  him  and  loses  nothing,  but  gains  nothing.  The 
 apology  which  he  makes  assists  us  to  determine  the  particular 
 character  v/hicli  Christ  has  in  view.  He  excuses  hunself  on 
 tlie  groimd  of  fear;  the  lord  is  a  hard  master.  He  represents 
 those,  therefoi'e,  whose  mistaken  api)rehensions  of  the  accoimt 
 they  wiU  have  to  I'ender  keep  them  in  inactivity,  and  wIk) 
 retire  from  the  active  labours  of  the  world  in  order  to  aAoid 
 contamination  from  its  unholy  atmosphere.  In  many  of  tlie 
 disciples,  indeed,  the  prospect  of  the  aj^proacliing  struggle  Avith 
 the  world  may  have  suggested  the  thought  of  such  a  retii-e- 
 ment. 
 
 And  not  without  reason  is  the  capital  which  the  unfaithful 
 servant  failed  to  employ  appropriated  to  him  who  made  the 
 most  of  his.  Indeed,  the  key  to  the  whole  jiarable  is  given  by 
 Christ  liimsolf  in  that  mcmoi-ablc  saying,  repeated  so  often  and 
 in  such  various  connexions  :•=  '^  Unto  evei'y  one  that  hath  {i.  e. 
 hath  as  real  and  productive  capital)  shall  (more,  and  ever  more) 
 
 <=  Cf.  pp.  109,  202. 
 
THE  LABOUIIKRS  IX  THE  VINEYARD.  38-5 
 
 he  qiveii  (and  most  to  liim  that  gaiiieth  most) ;  and  from  him 
 that  hath  not  (i.  e.  does  not  truly  possess  what  he  has,  but  buries 
 it)  sluiU  he  taken  aivay  even  that  ichich  Jie  liatlir 
 
 In  this  parable,  in  view  of  the  circunistances  under  wliich  it 
 was  uttered,  and  of  the  approaching  catastrophe,  special  inti- 
 mations are  given  of  Christ's  departure  from  the  eax-th,  of  his 
 ascension,  and  return  to  judge  the  rebellious  Theoci'atic  nation, 
 and  consummate  his  dominion.  It  desciibes  a  great  man,  who 
 travels  to  the  distant  court  of  the  mighty  emperor,  to  receive 
 from  him  authority  over  liis  coiintiymen,  and  to  return  ^nth 
 royal  power.  So  Christ  was  not  immediately  recognized  in  his 
 kingly  office,  but  first  had  to  dei)art  from  the  eai'tli  and  leave 
 his  agents  to  advance  his  kingdonx,  to  ascend  into  heaven  and 
 be  appointed  Theocratic  King,  and  i-eturn  again  to  exercise  his 
 contested  power. 
 
 §  240. — Parable  of  Oie  Labourers  in  the  Vineyard.  (Matt.  xx.  1-16.) 
 Here,  also,  belongs  the  paral)le  of  the  ktho^irens  in  tlie  ritie- 
 yard,  which  o^iposes  all  assertion  of  one's  own  merits,  and  all 
 anxiety  for  rank  and  rewards  among  the  sei'vants  of  the  king- 
 dom of  God.  Tliis  parable  admits  of  many  and  various  appli- 
 cations; but,  in  order  to  imderstand  it  correctly,  we  must 
 consid(!r  it  by  itself,  apart  from  the  introductory  and  con- 
 cluding passages.  "1 
 
 ''  The  words  "  The  last  shall  be  first,  and  the  first  last"  (v.  16),  cannot 
 possibly  denote  the  punctum  salicns  of  tlie  pai-able  ;  in  it  the  last  are  not 
 preferred  to  the  first  ;  the  latter  simply  fliil  to  receive  more  than  the  former, 
 as  they  had  expected.  Nor  do  they  comjilain  of  receiving  their  wages  last, 
 but  only  that  they  do  not  get  more  than  tlie  others.  It  is  something 
 merely  accidental,  necessary  onl}-  for  the  cons^istency  of  the  representation, 
 and  arising  merely  from  its  form,  that  the  turn  of  the  first  comes  last  ;  they 
 had  to  see  the  last  receive  equally  as  much  as  themselves  before  they  could 
 complain  of  it,  and  thus  give  occasion  for  the  utterance  of  the  truth  which 
 it  is  the  main  object  of  the  i)arable  to  set  forth.  In  Luke  xiii.  30,  the 
 same  words  occur  ('"there  are  last,"  &c.),  but  in  a  tot;illy  different  sense. 
 Here  the  "last"  are  those  who  are  wholly  shut  out  fi-om  the  kingdom  of 
 God  ;  an<l  tlie  passage  teaches  that  many  from  among  the  nations,  estranged 
 from  God,  should  be  called  to  share  in  his  kingdom  ;  while,  on  tlie  other 
 hand,  many  should  be  excluded  from  it  who  had  held  high  jilaces  among 
 the  ancient  people.  Taken  in  this  senso,  these  words  would  be  foreign  to 
 the  scope  of  the  parable.  The  latter  clause  of  tlie  verse,  "  many  are  called, 
 but  few  chosen,"  means  (according  to  Matt.  xxii.  14)  that  many  are  out- 
 wardly called,  and  belong,  by  profession,  to  the  kingdom  of  God.  Nor  is 
 this  relevant  to  the  parable  ;  which  draws  no  contrast  between  the  few  and 
 the  many,  the  called  and  the  chosen  ;  and,  in  fact,  makes  no  mention  at 
 ;dl  of  such  as  are  entirely  excluded  from  the  kingdom.  We  therefore 
 cannot  but  suppose  that  tliis  parable,  so  faithfully  preserved,  and  bearing 
 so  indubitably  the  stamp  of  Christ,  is  joined  to  the  words  that  precede  and 
 
 2  c 
 
386  L.\ST  PASSOVER  JOUK^TIY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 The  prominent  idea  of  the  parable  is,  that  all  who  faithfuUy 
 obey  their  call,  who  are  truly  converted,  and  labour  diligently 
 after  theii'  conversion,  whether  it  occur  at  an  earlier  or  later 
 pei'iod,  whether  the  term,  of  their  new  life  is  long  or  short,  are 
 made  partakei"s  of  the  same  blessedness  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 The  question  is,  not  what  they  were  before  then-  couvei'siou, 
 but  what  they  become  after  it.  All  who  have  reached  this 
 point  have  the  same  thing  in  common;  for  all  receive  the 
 principle  of  the  higher  life,  Avith  which,  where  it  really  exists, 
 is  also  presupposed  the  entire  new  moral  creation  that  proceeds 
 from  it;  although  this  latter  may  yet  be  far  from  complete, 
 and  can  only  be  fully  realized  in  the  future.  No  one  is  en- 
 titled to  ask  more  than  his  fellow  receives;  there  being  no 
 human  merit  in  the  case,  all  that  is  given  is  of  God's  free  gi-ace 
 and  mercy  in  redemption.  And  it  apphes  not  only  to  the 
 relations  of  nations  (e.  g.  the  later  called  heathen,  to  the  Jews), 
 but  also  of  individuals. 
 
 But  how  important  a  thing  it  is  for  us  that  a  parable  exhi- 
 biting the  doctrine  of  free  and  unmerited  gi*ace,  so  strongly 
 put  forth  by  Paid,  has  been  preserved  to  us  !  Taken  in  con- 
 nexion with  that  of  the  talents  (pomids),  it  forms  a  complete 
 whole  (the  two  parables  being  mutually  comjjlementary  to  each 
 other)  of  Christ's  truth ;  on  the  one  hand,  that  the  gifts  of 
 grace  ai'e  equally  bestowed,  and  are  to  be  received  by  all  alike 
 in  humility  of  heart ;  and,  on  the  other,  that  there  are  various 
 stages  of  Christian  progress,  depending  upon  the  use  that  is 
 made  of  the  grace  given:  on  the  one  hand,  the  humble  re- 
 ceiving of  grace  is  contrasted  with  the  asserting  of  one's  own 
 merits ;  and,  on  the  other,  a  self-active  zeal  is  opposed  to  sloth- 
 ful inactivity. 
 
 follow  by  a  merely  accidental  link  of  connexion.  (In  this  supposition, 
 which,  indeed,  has  long  been  a  certainty  with  me,  I  agree  with  Strauss  and 
 De  Wdtc.)  The  most  elaborate  efforts  to  harmonize  the  passages  in  ques- 
 tion with  the  parable,  only  result  in  destroying  its  sense,  so  pregnant  with 
 characteristic  Christian  truth.  Among  these  elaborate  attempts  must  be 
 reckoned  the  interpretation  recently  given  by  Wilhe  (Urevangelist,  s.  372). 
 The  collocation  of  the  parable  in  Matthew  may  afford  a  clue  to  its  inter- 
 pretation. Peter  appears  (xix.  27  ;  although  we  prefer  Luke  XA-iii.  28)  tQ 
 have  a  passion  for  rewards,  and  the  parable  bears  upon  such  a  disposition, 
 which,  by  the  way,  prevailed  at  that  time.  In  this  connexion,  also,  the 
 words  "  Many  that  are  last  shall  be  first,"  &c.  might  bear  against  measur- 
 ing by  merit,  judging  by  appearance,  &c.  Christ  may,  perhaps,  have 
 spoken  the  words  in  this  sense  ;  though,  as  we  have  seen,  he  gave  them 
 another ;  but  they  cannot  be  made  to  fit  the  parable. 
 
THE  PASSION  FOR  RKWARDS  REBUKED.  387 
 
 §  241. — The  Passion  for  Rewards  rehiked.  (Luke  xvii.  7.) 
 Akin  to  the  foregoing  parable,  tliough  not  chronologically 
 connected  vnth  it,  is  the  following  fragment  of  a  conA'cr-sation"^ 
 in  which  Christ  rebuked  the  prevalent  longing  of  his  disciples 
 for  ease  and  reward.  '•'  Which  of  you,  Imving  a  sei-vant  plough- 
 iiig,  or  feeding  cattle,  loill  say  unto  him,  when  he  is  come  from, 
 the  field,  Come  and  sit  doion  to  meat  ?  and  will  not  rather  say 
 unto  him.  Make  ready  wlierewith  I  may  sup,  a/nd  gird  thyself, 
 and  serve  me,  till  I  Ivave  eaten  and  drunken;  and  afterward  tlwu 
 sludt  eat  and  drink  ?  Both  he  thank  tJuit  servant  for  having  done 
 the  things  that  tvere  commanded  him  ?  I  troiv  not.  So  likewise 
 ye,  wJten  ye  sludl  lutve  done  all  those  things  (fiat  are  commanded 
 you,  say.  We  are  xmprofitahle  servants;  we  have  done  that  tvhich 
 was  our  duty  to  do." 
 
 Two  thoughts  are  here  presented :  First,  the  disciples  were 
 not  to  expect  at  once  in  the  kingdom  of  God,  for  whose  ap- 
 pearance they  were  looking,  a  rewaixl  for  their  efforts  to  da 
 Christ's  vnW.  Their  Master  waa  first  to  enter  into  his  glor}^ 
 and  they  were  to  remain  upon  earth  and  labour  for  him.  Then 
 for  them,  too,  would  come  the  time  of  rest  and  refreshment. 
 Secondly,  the  servant  who  only  fulfils  his  master's  commands 
 has  no  reason  to  boast,  and  no  claim  to  his  masters  thanks; 
 he  has  only  rendered  the  duty  owed  by  a  servant  to  liis  lord. 
 It  is  only  when  he  goes  beyond  express  commands,  and  does 
 all  that  his  mastei-'s  advantage  demands,  out  of  pm-e  love,  that 
 he  can  look  for  thanks ;  he  acts  then,  not  as  the  servant,  but 
 as  the  friend.  So  the  Apostles,  acting  simply  as  servants  to 
 Christ,  were  to  call  themselves  unprofitable  sei-vants  after  they 
 had  fulfilled  his  express  commands;  they  lacked  as  yet  the  all- 
 prevailing  love  that  would  of  itself,  without  such  commands, 
 impel  them  to  every  service  which  his  cause  required.  This 
 disposition  obtained,  they  would  be  no  more  servants,  but 
 friends ;  and  all  disputes  for  rank,  all  mercenary  longing  for 
 rewards,  would  fall  away.  They  would  then  never  think  that 
 they  had  done  enough  for  the  Master.  To  this  spirit,  the 
 essence  of  genuine  Christianity,  they  were  to  be  exalted.  *^ 
 
 *  Luke  xvii.  7,  shortly  before  tbe  account  of  the  last  journey  to  Jeru- 
 salem. It  is  plain  that  the  17th  chapter  begins  with  portions  of  uncon- 
 nected conversations.  We  have  already  seen  that  v.  5,  6  belong  to  the 
 period  now  before  us. 
 
 '  My  view  of  the  moral  import  of  this  passage  agrees  with  that  of  mj' 
 dear  friend  Julius  Miiller  (Von  der  Siinde,  2'«  Aufl.  i.  48),  although  he 
 gives  it  a  somewhat  different  turn.     I  differ  fi-om  him,  however,  in  regard 
 
 2c2 
 
388  LAST  PASSOVER  JOURNEY  TO  JERUSALEM. 
 
 §  242. — Chriisi  Anointed  hy  Mary  in  Bethany.  (John  xii.  1,  seq.) 
 After  ChrLst  had  thus  prepared  the  minds  of  the  disciples 
 for  the  great  events  that  were  approaching,  he  departed, 
 accompanied  by  them  only,  from  Jericho  on  the  Friday.  The 
 jouiTiey  thence  to  Bethany  could  easUy  he  accomplished  befoi-e 
 the  Sabbath,  which  he  intended  to  spend  in  the  latter  place 
 "with  the  family  of  Lazaiiis. 
 
 He  sat  at  the  Sabbath-meal  with  the  man  whom  he  had 
 raised  from  the  dead.  Again  did  the  two  sisters  manifest  their 
 differences  of  character  in  their  way  of  evincing  their  love  and 
 gratitude  to  the  Saviour."  The  industrious  Martha  waited 
 upon  him  at  table  ;  but  Mary,  indulging  her  feelings,  and 
 ]a}dng  aside  all  ordinar}^  calculations,  anointed  the  feet  of 
 Jesus  -^ith  costly  balsam  of  spikenard,  and  wiped  them  with 
 the  hair  of  her  head.^     The  disciples  knew  that  Jesus  rather 
 
 to  the  bearing  of  the  passage  ;  he  applies  it  to  the  Pharisees,  rather  than  to 
 ishe  Apostles. 
 
 B  The  narrative  of  this  remarkable  incident  is  not  only  given  l»y  John, 
 but  preserved  also  by  Matthew  and  Mark,  though  with  variations.  Luke 
 alone  says  nothing  about  it ;  but  then  he  mentions  nothing  of  Christ's  stay 
 in  Bethany  at  this  interval.  Even  if  [as  some  suppose]  the  account  which 
 he  gives  (vii.  38,  seq.)  of  the  anointing  at  the  house  of  Simon  (cf.  p.  227, 
 »eq.)  gave  occasion  for  the  omission  of  this,  it  would  not  follow  that  both 
 accounts  record  but  one  and  the  same  fact.  Matthew  and  Mark  diflfer 
 from  John  in  fixing  the  time  at  two  days  before  Easter,  instead  of  six ; 
 and  in  placing  its  scene,  not  in  tlie  house  of  Lazarus,  but  of  Siniou  the 
 Jej>er.  But  since  Matthew  and  Mark  omit  entirely  the  history  of  Lazarus, 
 and  connect  the  narrative  directly  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem,  it  is  easy  to 
 explain  their  placing  this  anointing  where  they  do,  seeing  that  its  nature 
 was  such  as  to  secure  its  preservation,  and  its  reference  to  Christ's  approach- 
 ing death  necessarily  assigned  its  chronological  position.  John  introduces 
 it  in  the  connexion  of  facts.  We  see  in  his  account  tlie  occa-fion  of  the 
 festive  meal,  and  of  Mary's  demonstration  of  hjve.  WHiether  the  tran.srfer 
 of  the  scene  to  the  house  of  Simon  (in  Matthew  and  Mark)  was  occasioned 
 l.iy  blending  this  narrative  with  tliat  of  the  other  banquet  that  took  place 
 at  Simon's  house,  or  by  some  other  cause,  cjiniiot  be  decided ;  nor  has  it 
 any  bearing  whatever  upon  the  veracity  of  their  narratives. 
 
 °  In  the  other  Gospels  the  "washing  of  the  head"  is  mentioned  ;  that 
 «>f  the  feet  accords  more  with  Eastern  usages.  It  was  customaiy  for  ser- 
 vants to  bring  water  to  wash  tlie  feet  of  the  guests  ;  but  Alary  bathed  them 
 herself,  not  with  water,  but  with  a  costly  unguent.  >'>trauss  thinks  it  inex- 
 plicable that  the  name  should  have  Ijeen  lost  in  the  other  Go.spels  if  the 
 woman  was  so  eminent  in  Gospel  history,  and  especially  as  Christ  .said  the 
 incident  should  be  kept  in  memorial  of  her  wherever  his  Gospel  wa.s 
 preached  (Matt.  xxvi.  13)  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  he  supposes  that  "  this 
 very  saying  of  Christ  might  have  occasioned  the  ascribing  of  the  act  to  a 
 definite  person."  To  be  sure,  it  is  as  possible  that  the  tradition  itself  gave 
 uame  to  the  'inknown  person  at  a  later  period,  as  that  the  name  originally 
 
THE  ANOINTING  BY  MARY.  389 
 
 declined  than  sought  demonstrations  of  honour  for  his  person ; 
 and  perhaps  Judas,  who  could  not  understand  or  appreciate 
 Maiy's  feelings,  meant  to  enter  into  his  views  in  this  respect 
 when  he  said,  "  Why  ivas  not  this  ointment  sold  for  three  hundred 
 2)ence,  and  given  to  tlie  poor  ?  "  ' 
 
 But  Christ,  who  looks  only  at  the  heart,  saw  in  Mary's  act 
 an  exhibition  of  that  overflowing  love  which  is  the  spi-ing  and 
 source  of  true  holiness,  and  rebuked  the  vvdgar  tendency  that 
 wished  to  measure  everything  by  its  own  standard.  "  Let 
 her  alone;  against  tlie  day  of  my  burying  hath  she  kept  this  (she 
 has  preserved  it  for  my  embalming) ;  she  has  sho^vn  me  the 
 last  tokens  of  honour  and  aflection,  not  to  be  measured  by 
 ■vulgar  standards ;  she  knows  that  you  wiU  soon  have  vie  n.d 
 moi'e  among  you,  while  the  poa-r  ye  shall  have  always." 
 
 given  should  be  lost.  But  that  the  one  is  more  prohable  than  the  other 
 cannot  be  proved  in  any  way.  Omitting  Lazani-s's  history,  they  had  no 
 occasion  to  mention  Mary.  The  commonness  of  the  name  (it  belonged  to 
 several  noted  women  in  the  New  Testament)  may  have  led  to  the  omission. 
 80  in  Luke  x.  38,  as  we  have  seen,  the  description  of  Martha  and  Mary 
 in  their  femily  circumstances,  the  place  of  their  abode,  &c.  is  omitte<i, 
 although  the  very  gist  of  the  anecdote  turns  upon  their  marked  difference* 
 of  character.  But  the  connexion  of  the  narrative  now  before  us,  with  the 
 approacliing  death  of  Jesus,  also  tended  to  preserve  the  locality.  And  a< 
 John  mentions  the  name,  without  the  promise  given  by  Matthew  (xxvi.  1.3), 
 it  is  the  more  evident  that  the  latter  did  not  cause  him  to  invent  the  former. 
 His  graphic  description  is  that  of  an  eye-witness  ;  and  it  would  even  b^ 
 easier  to  believe  that  Matt,  x.xvi.  13,  was  itself  a  later  invention  than  that 
 John  was  led  by  it  to  invent  the  name. 
 
 '  None  of  the  Evangelists  but  John  mention  the  name  of  Judas.  Stravsi 
 thinks  that  "if  Judas  had  really  been  named  in  the  original  tradition,  the 
 name  would  not  have  been  lost  ;"  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  "'his  bad 
 character  would  easily  lead  to  the  ascription  of  this  bad  trait  to  him."  But 
 care  for  the  poor  was  not  a  likely  trait  to  ascribe  to  Judas,  and  John 
 expressly  assigns  a  motive  of  his  own  for  his  language  (v.  6)  ;  and  the  very 
 inaptness  of  this  plea  to  Judas  may  have  caused  its  transfer  to  others.  W<j 
 certainly  cannot  suppose  that  all,  or  many,  of  the  Apostles  made  use  of  it, 
 but  the  one  who  said  it  may  have  expressed  the  thought  of  others  ;  though 
 Christ's  words  do  not  necessarily  presuppose  this.  Little  as  we  may  bo 
 surprised  by  various  defects  in  their  views  and  feelings  at  that  time,  there 
 are  two  points  of  view  in  this  plea  that  can  hardly  be  conceived  as  used  by 
 any  other  than  Judas  :  (1.)  If  their  minds  were  then  full  of  anticipations  of 
 Christ's  glory,  the  anointing,  as  a  demonstration  of  reverence  for  his  persoR, 
 could  not  appear  improper  to  them  ;  ("2.)  Or  if  their  thoughts  were  turned 
 to  his  approaching  sufferings  (which  is  not  so  probable),  they  could  still 
 less  dibapprove  an  expression  of  love  for  him  whom  they  were  so  soon  t» 
 lose.     Neither  of  these  remarks  wotdd  apply  to  Judas. 
 
390  THE  TRIUMPHAL  ENTEY. 
 
 PART  II. 
 
 FROM  THE  TRIUMPHAL  ENTRY  INTO  JERUSALEM  TO 
 THE  ASCENSION. 
 
 CHAPTER  I. 
 
 FROM  THE  TRIUMPHAL  EN^TRY  TO  THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
 §  243. — The  Entry  into  Jerusalem) 
 The  fame  of  Christ's  acts  had  been  difiiisecl  among  the 
 thousands  of  Jews '^  that  had  gathered  from  all  quarters  for 
 the  Passover.  The  i-esurrection  of  Lazarus,  in  particular,  had 
 created  a  gi-eat  sensation.  As  soon  as  the  Sabbath  law 
 ullowed,^  they  flocked  in  crowds  to  Bethany  to  see  Jesus,  and 
 especially  to  convince  themselves  of  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus 
 by  ocular  evidence  and  inquiiy  on  the  spot.  Perhaps  on 
 Sunday  morning,  too,  before  Christ  went  to  Jerusalem,  many 
 liad  gone  out."* 
 
 J  We  must  Lere  account  for  the  chronology  that  we  adopt.  We  set  out 
 •with  the  presupposition  (for  which  reasons  will  be  given  hereafter)  that 
 the  beginning  of  the  Passover,  14tli  Nisan,  occurred  in  that  year  on  a 
 Friday.  Now  John  xii.  1,  gives  a  fixed  mark — Christ's  arrival  at  Eethany 
 six  days  before  the  Passover  ;  which  six  days  may  include  that  which  forma 
 the  terminm  a  quo,  and  also  the  tcrminm  ad  qwm.  If  he  included  the 
 first,  Christ  reached  Bethany  on  the  Sabbath  ;  not  very  likely,  as  he  was 
 wont  to  avoid  the  charge  of  violating  the  ^Mosaic  law  except  in  cases  of 
 urgent  necessity.  If  he  included  both  days,  Christ  reached  Bethany  on  the 
 first  day  of  the  week.  But  then  the  Passover  caravan  must  have  reached 
 Jericho  on  Sabbath,  or  on  Friday,  remaining  there  on  Sabbath,  which  is 
 not  probable,  from  the  general  tenor  of  the  separate  accounts.  The  only 
 supposition  that  avoids  these  difficulties  is  that  John  included  neither  of 
 the  two  days,  and  that  Christ  arrived  in  Bethany  on  Friday.  (Cf.  note," 
 p.  307.)  Jb.  Jacobi  supposes  that  Christ  arrived  so  late  on  Friday  that  the 
 Sabbath  had  begun,  and  John,  therefore,  regarded  Friday  as  past ;  this 
 supposition  would  remove  the  difficulty,  without  altering  the  chronology. 
 
 ''  By  a  census  taken  under  Nero,  2,700,000  men  gathered  at  Jerusalem 
 to  the  Passover.     Joseph.  B.  J.  vi.  9,  §  3. 
 
 '  The  Sabbath-day's  journey  allowed  by  the  law  was  1,000  paces  ;  but 
 Bethany  was  twice  that  far  from  Jerusalem.  The  habit  was  to  walk  the 
 first  1,000  on  Sabbath  before  sunset ;  the  others  afterward. 
 
 "  John  xii.  9,  13.  According  to  the  other  Evangelists,  Jesus  came  on 
 the  same  day  with  the  multitude  from  Jericho.  Tlie  diflSculty  is  not  wholly 
 inexplicable  ;  nor  does  it  affect  the  substance  of  the  narrative.  It  is  pos- 
 sible to  distinguish  (as  Schleitrmac/itr  and  others  do)  two  entries  of  Christ 
 into  the  city  ;  the  first  being  described  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  the  second 
 in  John.  According  to  this  view,  he  entered  first  with  the  caravan  towards 
 evening,  and  a  great  sensation  was  produced  ;  thence  he  went  immediately 
 
THE  TRIUMPHAL  ENTRY.  391 
 
 The  question  may  arise,  whether  the  trimnphal  entry  into 
 Jerusalem  was  part  of  Christ's  plan,  or  not.  It  is  certainly 
 possible,  from  the  circumstances  just  mentioned,  that  it  was 
 unsought  on  his  part.  But  had  such  really  been  the  case,  he 
 would  have  avoided  the  multitude,  and  entered  the  city  quietly 
 and  privately,  as  he  could  easily  have  done.  Had  he  not  had 
 higher  interests  in  view,  he  must  have  avoided  a  mode  of  entry 
 which  confirmed  the  opinion  that  he  claimed  to  be  more  than 
 a  mere  teacher,  and  wliich  would  afibrd  so  excellent  a  handle 
 to  his  enemies.  We  do  not,  indeed,  look  upon  it  as  brought 
 about  by  any  management  on  his  part,  but  as  a  natural  residt 
 of  the  cii'cumstances,  as  a  final  and  necessary  link  in  a  chain  of 
 consecutive  events.  We  regard  it,  therefore,  as  foreseen  and 
 embraced  in  his  plan ;  and  his  plan  was  nothing  else  but  the 
 ^vill  of  his  Father,  which  he  fulfilled  as  a  free  organ.  He 
 Avished  to  yield  to  the  enthusiasm  of  the  people,  transient  as 
 he  knew  it  would  be  in  most  of  them,  and  thus  to  testify,  in 
 the  face  of  the  nation  and  of  mankind,  that  the  kingdom  of 
 God  had  come,  and  that  he  was  the  pi'omised  Theocratic  King. 
 And  this  was  the  residt  of  his  previous  labours,  brought  about 
 by  the  Di\ine  guidance.  If  he  had  not  before,  in  the  same 
 direct  and  public  way,  proclaimed  himself  Messiah,  he  oimo  did 
 it  before  the  eyes  of  all,  most  pubhcly  and  strikingly.  This 
 triumphant  entry  was  the  reply  to  many  questions  ;  a  reply 
 which  shut  out  all  doubt ;  it  was,  in  a  word,  a  world-historical 
 event.'* 
 
 to  Bethanj',  and  on  the  next  morning  (according  to  our  view,  the  second 
 day  after)  returned  to  the  city,  the  fame  of  his  works  having,  in  the  mean 
 time,  been  still  more  widely  bruited  among  the  people  ;  the  second  entry, 
 expected  and  prepared  for,  causing  much  greater  excitement  than  the  first 
 unannovmced  and  unexpected  one.  But  in  this  case  we  should  have  to 
 admit  that  the  two  narratives  had  been  blended  ;  parts  that  belonged  to 
 the  second,  as  given  by  John,  being  transferred  to  the  first.  As  the  other 
 Gospels  (ilark  especially)  relate  that  he  arrived  late  in  the  evening  at  the 
 city,  and  went  directly  thence  to  Bethany,  there  appears  good  groimd  for 
 the  supposition.  The  statement  of  the  other  Evangelists  (liis  going  to 
 Bethany)  suits  exactly  John's  account  of  his  relations  with  the  family  of 
 Lazarus. 
 
 But  yet,  if  our  mode  of  viewing  the  Gospels  be  correct,  it  may  very  well 
 have  been  inferred — the  narrative  of  the  entry  being  separatelj'  transmitted, 
 and  the  supposition  naturally  arising  that  he  came  directly  with  the  caravan 
 from  Jericho — that  the  Messianic  entry  took  place  immediately  on  his 
 arrival. 
 
 "  It  may  be  matter  of  question  what  features  of  the  entry  belonged  to 
 Christ's  plan,  and  what  were  brought  about  entirely  by  the  circumstances. 
 To  admit  that  any  of  them  belonged  to  the  latter  class  would  not  deprive 
 them  of  significance  ;  the  development  of  the  circumstances  themselves^ 
 
392  THE  TRIUMPHAL  ENTRY. 
 
 Attended  by  his  disciples  and  tlie  liost  that  had  gathei*ed 
 into  Bethany,  Christ  set  out  for  Jerusalem.  Many  more 
 advanced  to  meet  him  from  the  city,  and  were  hailed  by  those 
 who  had  been  with  Clmst  with  the  assurance  that  Lazarus 
 had  indeed  been  raised  from  the  dead.  In  the  increasing 
 throng,  Chi-ist  mounted  an  ass  which  he  found  at  hand,  for  hi.s 
 own  convenience,  and  that  the  people  might  see  him.  And  thus 
 the  natural  course  of  circumstances  aptly  symbolized  the  peace- 
 able character  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  its  total  rejection 
 of  worldly  pomp  and  display,  as  tyj^ified  by  the  Prophet 
 Zachariah  (ix.  9).  With  joyous  songs  and  shoutings  he  was 
 introduced  into  the  city  as  Messiah,  while  on  all  sides  was 
 heard  the  loud  acclaim,  "  Hosanna  !  Jehovah  prosper  him  ! 
 Blessed  is  he  that  cometh  in  the  name  of  Jehovah "  (Ps.  cxviii. 
 25,  26).  Some  Pharisees  among  the  multitvide,  who  were 
 perhaps  not  fully  decided  in  their  opinions,  though  recognizing 
 Jesus  as  a  great  teachei',  wei-e  displeased  that  he  was  thu.s 
 proclaimed  Messiah  on  entering  the  city,  and  asked  liim  tf> 
 silence  his  followers.  He  answered,  "  /  tell  you,  if  these  shmdd 
 hold  their  peace,  the  stones  loould  cry  out."  °     An  event    had 
 
 apart  from  Christ's  immediate  intention,  or  in  connexion  tlierewith,  might 
 adapt  them  to  symbolize  the  appearance  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  From 
 John  xii.  14,  we  learn  that  Christ,  finding  the  throng  so  great,  seated 
 himself  upon  an  ass  found  just  at  hand,  which  act  was  subsequently  referred 
 to,  Zach.  ix.  9,  and  the  narrative  somewhat  modified  accordingly,  a.?, 
 indeed,  is  seen  in  Matthew  (xxi.  2-7),  where  tv:n  beasts  are  mentioned, 
 from  a  misapprehension  of  the  passage  in  Zachariah,  following  the  Alex- 
 andrian version.  It  is  to  be  carefiiUy  observed  that  John  xii.  16,  makes  a 
 clear  distinction  between  the  view  of  this  event  taken  by  the  disciples  at 
 the  time,  from  that  in  which  they  regarded  it  at  a  later  period,  when  all 
 had  been  fidfiUed,  and  they  had  seen  Jesus  as  the  glorified  Messiah  ; 
 showing  that  what  at  first  appeared  to  be  only  accidental,  afterward  gained 
 a  higher  significance.  None  but  an  eye-witness  would  have  made  such  a 
 distinction  at  the  time  when  this  Gospel  was  written.  If  this  should  be 
 taken  as  implying  that  the  ass  was  accidentally  there  (though  it  by  no 
 means  necessarily  implies  this),  the  use  of  the  animal  is  not  thereby  ren- 
 dered the  less  .significant,  or  a  less  apt  fulfilment  of  tlie  Messianic  pro- 
 phecy. But,  on  the  otlier  hand,  the  other  Gospels  represent  the  act  a."" 
 intentimwl  on  Christ's  part  ;  not,  however,  as  Strauss  will  have  it,  mira- 
 citlcniK.  It  is  not  at  all  impossible  to  harmonize  John's  accoimt  with  that 
 of  the  other  Evangelists  ;  the  word  tvfuov,  in  v.  14,  does  not  of  neces.sity 
 define  the  way  in  wliich  Christ  obtained  the  ass  ;  and  John  states  many 
 points  very  concisely.  In  the  mean  tune,  it  is  a  question  which  account  i'^ 
 tlie  most  sinijile. 
 
 "  Luke  xix.  .39.  If  we  suppose  there  were  tii-o  entries  (which  tliis  pas- 
 sage appears,  though  not  necessarily,  to  favour),  these  words  would  refer 
 to  tlie  first ;  and  the  Pharisees  probably  accompanied  the  Pa.ssover  caravan 
 fi'om  Galilee. 
 
THE  FIG-TKEE  CURSED.  393 
 
 occurred,  so  lofty  and  so  pregnant  with  tlie  best  interests  of 
 mankind,  that  it  might  rouse  even  the  dullest  to  rejoice.  In 
 the  mouth  of  any  other,  even  the  greatest  of  men,  these  words, 
 would  have  been  an  unju.stifiable  self-exaltation  ;  littered  by 
 Him,  they  show  the  weighty  import  wliich  he  gave  to  his 
 manifestation.  Christ's  conduct  in  this  respect,  moreover, 
 shows  that  such  an  entiy  into  Jerusalem  formed  part  of  his 
 plan. 
 
 §  244. — Sadness  of  Christ  at  Sifjlit  of  Jcrvmlem.     (Luke  xix.  41-44.) 
 
 "With  what  sorrow  must  that  heart,  so  full  of  love,  so  over- 
 floAving  with  pity  for  the  misery  of  men,  have  been  wrung  ao 
 he  approached  for  the  last  time  the  City  whose  people  he  had 
 so  often  summoned  in  vain  to  repent,  the  metropolis  of  the 
 earthly  Theocracy — soon  to  be  left  to  deserved  destruction, 
 from  which  he  could  not  save  it,  because  His  voice  was  not 
 listened  to  !  With  tears  he  cried,  "  If  thou  haclst  Jciioion,  even 
 tluou,  at  least  in  this  thy  flay,  the  thiiigs  which  belong  unto  thy 
 peace  !  bui  noio  they  dre  hid  from  thine  ei/fts."  And  then  he 
 uttered  a  prophecy  (v.  43,  44)  which  the  destruction  of  Jeru- 
 salem afterward  abundantly  verified. 
 
 Although  Christ,  doubtless,  went  immediately  on  his  entry 
 to  the  Temple  to  thank  God,  it  does  not  follow  that  we  must 
 place  here  the  expidsion  of  the  buyers  and  sellers.  P 
 
 During  the  few  remaining  days  of  his  ministry  on  earth,  he 
 made  use  of  the  favourable  temper  of  the  peo2:)le  to  impres.si. 
 their  minds  with  his  teaching.  In  the  mornings  he  taught  in 
 the  Temple  ;  the  rest  of  the  day  was  given  to  the  disciples, 
 with  whom,  in  the  evening,  he  was  wont  to  retire  to  Bethany. 
 
 §  2io.— The  Fi[/-trec  Cursed.     (Matt.  xxi.  18  ;  Mark  xi.  12.)— Parable  of 
 the  Fig-tree.     (Luke  xiii.  6-9.) 
 
 A  remarkable  occurrence  in  this  part  of  the  history  must 
 now  be  examined  somewhat  closely.  Christ,  returning  ^vith 
 his  disciples  in  the  morning  from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem,  be- 
 came Imngry,  and  saw  at  a  distance  a  fig-tree  in  full  leaf  At 
 that  season  of  the  year  such  a  tree  might  be  expected,  in  full 
 
 P  According  to  Matt.  xxi.  15,  16,  the  displea.sure  of  the  priests  was 
 kindled  when  the  children  cried  "Hosanna  !"  in  the  Temple.  Jesus  said 
 to  them,  "  Have  ye  never  read,  Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings 
 hast  thou  ordained  praise?"  (Ps.  viii.  3).  This  incident  miyht  be  con- 
 founded witli  the  one  before  quoted  fi-om  Luke  ;  but  it  has  features 
 essentially  ditferent.  The  haughty  scribes  are  here  offended  because 
 c/tj7a?-c;i  rejoice,  and  Christ  replies,  in  effect,  "The  glory  of  God  is  revealed 
 to  children,  while  the  chiefs  of  the  hierarchy,  in  the  pride  of  their  imagined 
 wisdom,  receive  no  impressions  into  their  cold  and  imsusceptible  hearts." 
 
394  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 foliage,  to  bear  fi-uit  ;9  and  lie  walked  towards  it,  to  pluck  off 
 the  figs.  •  Finding  none,  he  said,  "  No  imin  eat  fruit  of  tliee 
 hereafter  for  ever."  On  the  second  morning,'^  the  cUsciples, 
 coming  the  same  way,  were  astonished  to  find  the  fig-tree 
 withered. 
 
 In  what  light  is  this  fact  to  be  regarded  ?  Shall  we  see  in 
 it  the  immediate  result  of  Christ's  words ;  in  fact,  a  miracle, 
 as  Matthew's  statement  appears  to  imply  1  All  his  other 
 miracles  were  acts  of  love,  acts  of  giving  and  creation ;  this 
 would  be  a  punitive  and  desti'oying  mii'acle,  falling,  too,  upon 
 a  natiu'al  object,  to  which  no  guilt  could  cling.  It  would 
 certainly  be  at  variance  with  all  other  peculiar  operations  of 
 Christ,  who  came,  in  every  respect,  "  not  to  destroy,  but  to 
 fulfil."  Shall  we  conceive  that  the  coincidence  with  Christ's 
 words  was  merely  accidental — a  view  which  suits  Mai'k's 
 statement  better  than  Matthew's  1  If  so,  we  shall  find  it 
 impossible  to  exti'act  from  Christ's  words,  twist  them  as  we 
 may,  a  sense  worthy  of  him. 
 
 The  proper  medium  is  to  be  found  in  the  symbolical  mean- 
 ing of  the  act.  If  the  miracles  generally  have  a  symbolical 
 import  (and  we  have  shown  that  in  some  it  is  particidarly 
 prominent),  we  have  in  this  case  one  that  is  entire!?/  symbolical. 
 
 The  fig-tree,  rich  in  foliage,  but  destitute  of  fruit,  represents 
 the  Jewish  people,  so  abundant  in  outward  shows  of  piety,  but 
 destitute  of  its  reaUty.  Their  ^vdtal  sap  was  squandered  upon 
 leaves.  And  as  the  fruitless  tree,  failing  to  realize  the  aim  of 
 its  being,  was  destroyed ;  so  the  Theocratic  nation,  for  the 
 same  reason,  was  to  be  overtaken,  after  long  forbearance,  by 
 the  judgments  of  God,  and  shut  out  from  his  kingdom. 
 
 The  prophets  were  accustomed  to  convey  both  insti-uctions 
 and  warnings  by  symbolical  acts ;  and  the  purport  of  this  act, 
 as  both  warning  and  prediction,  was  precisely  suited  to  the 
 time.  But  to  understand  Clrrist's  act  aright,  we  must  not 
 conceive  that  he  at  once  caused  a  sound  tree  to  wither.  This 
 would  not,  as  we  have  said,  be  in  harmony  Avith  the  general 
 aim  of  his  mu'acles  ;  nor  would  it  correspond  to  the  idea  Avhich 
 he  designed  to  set  vividly  before  the  disciples.  A  sound  tree, 
 suddenly  destroyed,  would  certainly  be  no  fitting  type  of  the 
 
 ^  See  article  "Feige,"  in  Winer's  Realworterbuch.  The  remark  in 
 Mark  xi.  13,  "The  time  of  figs  was  not  vet,"  presents  a  difficulty  ;  the 
 whole  significance  of  the  narrative  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  tree  might  be 
 expected  to  bear  fruit,  but  was  destitute  of  it. 
 
 '  I  follow  here  Mark's  statement,  wliich  seems  to  me  to  be  the  most 
 original  in  this  particular. 
 
PARABLE  OF  THE  FIG-TREE.  395 
 
 Jewish  people.  We  must  rather  believe  that  the  same  cause 
 which  made  the  tree  barren  had  already  prepared  the  way  for 
 its  destruction,  and  that  Christ  only  hastened  a  crisis  which 
 had  to  come  in  the  course  of  nature.  In  this  view  it  would 
 correspond  precisely  to  the  great  event  in  the  world's  history 
 which  it  was  designed  to  prefigure :  the  moral  character  of  the 
 Jewish  nation  had  long  been  fitting  it  for  destmction ;  and 
 the  Divine  government  of  the  world  oidy  brought  on  the 
 crisis. 
 
 It  is  true,  no  explanation  on  the  part  of  Christ  is  added  hi 
 the  account  of  the  event  above  related,  although  we  may 
 readUy  beHeve  that  the  disciples  were  not  so  capable  of 
 appx'ehending  his  meaning  or  so  inclined  to  do  it,  as  to  stand 
 in  need  of  no  explanation.  But  we  find  such  an  explanation 
 in  the  parable  of  the  barren  Jig-lree  (Luke  xiii.  G-9),  which 
 e\'idently  corresponds  to  the  fact  that  we  just  unfolded.  As 
 iihefact  is  wanting  in  Luke,  and  the  parable  in  Matthew  and 
 Mark,  we  have  additional  reason  to  infer  such  a  con-espon- 
 dence.  We  cannot  conclude,  with  some,  that  the  narrative  of 
 the  fact  was  merely  framed  from  an  embodiment  of  the 
 parable ;  nor  that  the  fact  itself,  so  definitely  related,  was 
 piu'ely  ideal ;  but  we  find  in  the  correspondence  of  the  two  an 
 intimation  that  idea  and  history  go  here  together ;  and  that, 
 according  to  the  prevailing  tendencies  of  the  persons  who 
 transmitted  the  accounts,  the  one  or  the  other  was  thrown 
 into  the  back-ground. 
 
 It  may  be  a  question  whether  the  words  of  Christ  (Matt. 
 xxi.  21;  Mark  xi.  23)  on  the  power  of  faith  to  "  I'emove 
 moimtains  "  really  belong  in  this  connexion.  Against  it  is  the 
 fact  that  the  miracle  proper  was  really  subordinate,  and  that 
 the  faith  of  the  disciples  was  to  show  its  power  m  modes  very 
 different  fi-om  that  illustrated  by  the  fact.  But  if  the  words 
 are  to  be  taken  in  this  connexion,  we  must  suppose  that,  after 
 the  attention  of  the  disciples  had  been  di-awn  to  the  subordi- 
 nate feature  (the  watheiing  of  the  tree),  Christ  made  use  of 
 their  astonishment  for  a  purpose  veiy  important  in  this  last 
 period  of  his  stay  with  them,  viz.,  to  incite  them  to  act  of 
 themselves  by  the  power  of  God  ;  not  to  be  so  amazed  at 
 what  He  wrought  with  that  power,  but  to  remember  that  in 
 communion  with  him  they  would  be  able  to  do  the  same, 
 and  even  greater  things.  The  sense  of  his  words  then 
 would  be  :  "  You  need  not  wonder  at  a  result  like  this ; 
 the  result  was  the  least  of  it ;  you  shall  do  still  greater  tilings 
 
396  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 l)y  the  power  of  God,  if  you  only  possess  tlie  great  essential, 
 Faith." 
 
 If  we  adopted  this  ^dew,  we  should  be  disposed  to  consider 
 Luke  xvii.  6,  as  the  onginal  form  of  Christ's  language  -with 
 regard  to  the  fig-tree;  and  to  suppose  that  in  Matthew  and 
 Mark  diflerent  expressions,  conveying  similar  thovights,  had 
 been  blended  together.  Yet  it  cannot  be  asserted  that  the 
 view  itself  is  altogether  well  supported.  Perhaps  it  may  have 
 been  the  case  that  the  original  form  of  Christ's  words  in  ex- 
 planation of  the  miracle  was  lost ;  its  symbolical  import,  which 
 is  really  its  chief  import,  was  made  subordinate  to  the  miracle 
 itself;  and  another  expression  of  Christ,  better  adapted  to  tliis 
 conception  of  the  fact,  was  brought  into  connexion  with  it. 
 
 §  246. — Machinations  of  <Ae  Phurisees. 
 
 The  sensation  created  by  the  raising  of  Lazarus  had,  as  we 
 have  seen,  quickened  the  resolution  to  which  the  more  hasty 
 portion  of  the  Sanhedrim  had  long  been  inclined,  to  put  JesiLs 
 out  of  the  way.  The  time  and  mode  of  its  execution  depended 
 upon  the  fact  and  the  manner  of  his  entering  the  city ;  and 
 men  of  all  classes  waited  anxiously  to  see  whether  he  would 
 dare  openly  to  face  his  enemies.  Before  his  arrival,  the  San- 
 hedrim ordered  that  any  one  who  should  ascertain  his  place  of 
 abode  should  inform  them  of  it,  that  measures  might  be  taken 
 for  his  arrest.^ 
 
 The  triumphant  Messianic  entry  of  Christ,  amid  the  shouts 
 of  the  enthusiastic  multitude,  was  an  imexpected  blow  to  the 
 hierarchical  party.  "  See,"  said  they  in  anger,  "  hoiv  ye  prevail 
 iwHiing  !  behold,  the  world  is  gone  after  him!"*  They  now 
 determined  to  make  use  of  craft.  We  cannot  decide,  from  the 
 bi'ief  intimations  of  the  Evangelists,  whether  they  first  in- 
 tended to  make  use  of  the  Sicarii,^^  who  at  that  time  were 
 employed  frequently  by  the  unprincipled  heads  of  parties;  or 
 whether  it  was  their  plan  from  the  beginning  to  get  him  into 
 their  power  by  stratagem,  and  then  have  him  condemned  under 
 the  fomis  of  law.  This  last  would  be  more  in  consonance 
 with  their  usual  hypocrisy.  Doubtless  the  pleas  and  accusa- 
 tions to  be  employed  were  all  ready ;  abundant  material  had 
 been  gathered  from  Christ's  labours  both  in  Galilee  and  Jei-u- 
 salem.  Still,  they  must  have  welcomed  any  new  developments 
 wluch  might  serve  to  justify  his  condemnation  on  the  ground 
 
 »  John  xi.  56,  57.  '  Ibid.  xii.  19. 
 
 "  Matt.  xxvi.  4.  It  cannot  be  well  decided  whether  diroKTtivHv  refers 
 to  assassination  or  to  leijal  murder. 
 
PLOTS  OF  THE  PHARISEES.  397 
 
 of  Jewish  law,  or  to  present  him  to  the  Eoman  authorities  as 
 a  culprit.^' 
 
 §  247. — Comhination  of  tJic  PJiarisees  and  Uerodlam. — Ch'isfs  Decision  on 
 jyaijing  Tribute  to  Ucesar. 
 
 Besides  the  Pharisaical  party,  there  was  another  among  the 
 Jews  at  that  time,  the  Herodians,  a  political  rather  than  reli- 
 gions party,  whose  greatest  cai^e  was  to  preserve  the  public  quiet, 
 and  avoid  all  occasions  of  offence  to  the  Romans.  These  two 
 parties  now  combined  against  Christ  ;^^'  not  the  first  or  the  last 
 instance  in  history  in  which  priests  have  made  use  of  politicians, 
 even  othermse  opposed  to  them,  to  crush  a  reformer  whose 
 zeal  might  be  inimical  to  both. 
 
 A  question  was  proposed  to  Christ,  apparently  out  of  respect 
 to  his  authority,  but  really  with  a  view  to  draw  such  an  answer 
 from  him  as  would  ofi'end  either  the  hierarchs  or  politicians : 
 '^Master,  we  know  that,  thou  art  true;  for  thou  regardest  not  the 
 person  o/men,  hit  teachest  tlie  way  of  God  in  truth:  is  it  laivful 
 to  give  tribute  to  Ccesar,  or  not  .?"*    A  denial  of  the  obligation 
 
 "  In  order  to  obtain  an  exact  view  of  the  events  that  preceded  and  con- 
 tributed to  the  death  of  Christ,  we  must  compare  the  synoptical  accounts 
 with  that  of  John.  The  former,  however,  collecting  into  the  spaca  of  a 
 few  days  events  which,  according  to  John,  occurred  at  various  points  of 
 time,  leave  many  gaps  and  obscurities.  Pharisaical  plots  and  schemes 
 that  were^  perhaps,  going  on  for  years,  are  all  transferred  to  this  period. 
 According  to  tlie  synoptical  accounts,  the  Sanhedrim  sent  a  deputation  to 
 Christ  while  he  taiight  publicly  in  the  Temple,  asking  his  authority  for  so 
 doing.  Christ,  seeing  that  they  only  meant  to  ensnare  hun,  replied  by  a 
 question  that  was  rather  dangerous  for  them  :  "  The  baptism  of  John, 
 whence  was  it?  from  heaven,  or  of  men  ?"  (Matt.  xxi.  25).  Their  interests 
 would  be  prejudiced  by  admitting  it  to  be  "  from  heaven  ;"  their  fear  of 
 alienating  the  people,  who  revered  John  as  a  prophet,  forbade  them  to  say 
 it  was  "  of  men."  They  therefore  evaded  the  question,  and  Christ  declared 
 himself  to  be  thereby  justified  in  refusing  to  answer  theirs.  In  this  state- 
 ment itself  there  is  nothing  improbable  ;  the  only  possible  doubt  is  as  to 
 its  chronological  connexion.  Could  the  Sanhedrim  have  sent  such  a  depu- 
 tation to  Christ  at  a  time  when  matters  had  gone  so  far  as  John's  account 
 represents  them  ?  The  question  proposed  cannot  but  remind  us  of  that 
 offered  to  Christ  (John  ii.  18)  at  the  V>eginning  of  his  ministry  ;  the  answer 
 reminds  us,  also,  of  Christ's  appeal,  at  an  earlier  period,  to  the  testimony 
 of  John  the  Baptist.  Without  venturing  to  decide  the  point,  we  may 
 suggest  that  tlie  chronology  is  at  fault.  And,  at  any  rate,  the  obscurity 
 in  the  connexion  of  events  in  the  synoptical  Gospels,  arising  from  the 
 omission  of  Christ's  previous  labours  in  Jerusalem,  makes  it  necessary  for 
 xis  to  fill  them  up  from  John's  definite,  historical  outline.  Matt.  xxi.  46, 
 recalls  forcibly  John's  statements  of  similar  facts  before  occurring  in  the 
 fity. 
 
 "  Mark  iii.  G,  perhaps  implies  that  this  union  was  formed  at  an  earlier 
 period.  »  Mark  xii.  14,  15. 
 
398  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 ■would  subject  hini  to  accusation  before  the  Roman  authonties 
 as  a  man  politically  dangerous,  and  a  ringleader  of  rebellion. 
 To  aclcnowledge  it,  might  lay  liim  open  to  the  charge  of  de- 
 grading the  dignity  of  the  Theocratic  nation.  Asking  for  a 
 Roman  denarius,  he  inquired,  "  Whose  is  this  image  a}id  super- 
 scription ?"  "  Caesar's."  The  very  currency  of  the  coin  implied 
 an  acknowledgment  of  the  political  dependence  of  the  nation 
 upon  the  Roman  Empire,  and  of  the  obligations  that  flowed 
 from  such  dependence.  This  conclusion  he  uttered  in  very  few 
 words:  "liender  unto  Ccesar  tlie  things  that  are  Ccesars,  and 
 to  God  t/ie  things  that  are  God's." 
 
 These  words  imply  that  it  was  not  Chiist's  calling  to  alter 
 the  relations  and  duties  of  ci^'il  society.  Had  he  meant  to 
 represent  himself  as  ]\Iessiah  in  the  sense  of  JNIessiahship  held 
 by  the  Pharisees,  he  must  have  given  a  different  reply ;  but  liis 
 answer  taught  them  that  their  obligations  to  Caesar  were  not 
 inconsistent  with  their  duties  to  God;  on  the  contrary,  that 
 the  latter  constituted  the  basis  of  the  former.  At  the  same 
 time,  it  reminded  them  of  a  duty  to  Avhich  they  were  most 
 unfaithful,  viz.  to  give  tndy  to  God  what  is  God's;  as  man,  bear- 
 ing tlie  stamj)  of  his  inuige,  belongs  to  him,  and  should  be  dedicated 
 to  him.  And  the  '-giving  to  God  what  is  God's"  not  only 
 affords  the  basis,  but  also  fixes  the  just  Limitations  of  the  ci\T,l 
 obligations  growing  out  of  relations  brought  about  by  Di%Tne 
 Pro\idence. 
 
 §  248. — Christ's  Reply  to  the  Sadducees  about  the  Jiesui'rection.     (Matt.  xxii. 
 •  23,  seq.  ;  Mark  xii.  18  ;  Luke  xx.  27.) 
 
 Between  the  spirit  of  Christ  and  that  of  the  Sadducees  there 
 was,  as  we  have  already  seen,y  nothing  in  common.  But  al- 
 though that  party  generally  paid  little  heed  to  popular  religiou.s 
 movement.s,  and  had  as  yet  hardly  noticed  Christ,  their  atten- 
 tion, and  even  their  favour,  was  drawn  to  him  by  the  opposition 
 of  the  Pharisees.  His  happy  defeat  of  the  schemes  of  the  latter 
 induced  the  Sadducees  to  tempt  him  \nth  a  question  in  regard 
 to  maniage  in  the  rcsun'ection,  which  might,  })erhaps,  embarrass 
 Mm  on  the  ground  that  he  occupied.  But  with  them,  as  with 
 the  Pharisees,  he  struck  at  the  root,  and  traced  theii"  errors  to 
 ignorance  of  the  Scriptures  and  of  the  omnipotence  of  God. 
 Had  they  known  the  Scriptures,  he  showed  them  (even  the 
 law,  which  they  acknowledged,  for  he  quoted  out  of  Exodus), 
 not  only  in  the  letter,  but  the  .spirit,  they  could  not  fail  to  sec 
 
 r  Cf.  p.  36. 
 
PLOTS  OF  THE  PH.\JIISEES.  399 
 
 a  necessary  connexion  between  the  faith  revealed  there  and  the 
 doctrine  of  an  eternal  individual  life  for  man  (v.  31,  32).  Had 
 they  known  the  omnipotence  of  God,  they  would  not  have  sup- 
 posed that  the  forms  and  i-elations  of  the  present  life  must  be 
 presei'sed  in  the  future ;  God  could  bestow  the  new  existence 
 in  a  far  different,  nay,  in  a  glorilied  form  (v.  29,  30). 
 
 He  thus  refuted  the  Sadducees,  both  negativel)'  and  posi- 
 tively. NegatiA^ely,  by  showing  that  theii'  question  went  on 
 the  false  hypothesis  that  the  forms  and  relations  of  the  present 
 sensible  life  woidd  be  transferred  to  the  future  spiritual  one; 
 and  positively,  by  showing  the  essential  import  of  the  declara- 
 tion in  the  Pentateuch,  "/  am  the  God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God 
 of  Isaac,  and  tlie  God  of  Jacob."  How  could  God  j^lace  himself 
 in  so  near  a  relation  to  indi\4dual  men,  and  ascribe  to  them  so 
 high  a  dignity,  if  they  were  mere  perishable  appearances;  if 
 they  had  not  an  essence  akin  to  his  own,  and  destined  for  im- 
 moi-tality  1 
 
 We  must  bear  in  mind  hei-e  the  emphatic  sense  in  which 
 Christ  contrasts  the  ''dead"  and  the  "living;"  a  sense  which  is 
 evident  (apart  from  John's  Gospel)  in  the  passage,  "Let  the  dead 
 bury  their  dead.""^  It  is  in  this  emphatic  sense  that  he  says, 
 "God  is  not  the  God  of  t/ie  dead,  but  of  the  living"'^  (v.  32).  The 
 living  God  can  only  be  conceived  as  the  God  of  the  living. 
 And  this  ai'gument,  derived  from  the  Theocratic  basis  of  the 
 Old  Testament,  is  founded  upon  a  more  general  one,  viz.  the 
 connexion  between  the  consciousness  of  God  and  that  of  im- 
 mortality. Man  could  not  become  conscious  of  God  as  his  God, 
 if  he  were  not  a  personal  spirit,  divinely  allied,  and  destined 
 for  eternity,  an  eternal  object  (as  an  indi\'idual)  of  God;  and 
 thereby  far  above  all  natural  and  perishable  beings,  whose  per- 
 petuity is  that  of  the  species,  not  the  indiA-idual. 
 
 It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Christ  does  not  enter  further 
 into  the  faith  of  immortality  as  defined  in  the  belief  of  the  re- 
 surrection ;  his  opponents  could  not  apj^reciate  the  latter  until 
 they  had  been  made  to  feel  the  need  of  the  former. 
 
 §  249. — Christ's  Exposition  of  the  First  cmd  Great  Commandment. 
 (Mark  xii.  28-34.) 
 
 The  promptness  with  which  Christ  silenced  the  Pharisees 
 and   Sadducees    inclined   towards   him  many  of  the  better- 
 
 ^  Cf.  p.  341. 
 
 *  The  quibbles  of  the  Eabbinical  writers  on  this  passage,  compared  wth 
 Christ's  profound  saying,  ilhistrate  the  proverb,  "  Duo  cum  dicunt  idem, 
 noil  est  idem." 
 
400  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM, 
 
 minded.'^  One  of  these,  who  felt  himself  compelled  to  acknow- 
 ledge Jesus  as  a  witness  of  tnith,  if  not  a.s  Messiah,  put  a 
 question  to  him  in  good  faith,  in  order  to  make  known  his 
 agreement  of  sentiment  -svith  him :  *=  "  Wkkh  is  the  first  com- 
 ■mandment  of  all  1"  And  when  Christ  replied  that  all  the 
 commandments  were  implied  in  two,  "  the  supreme  love  of 
 God,  and  the  love  of  one's  neighbour  as  one's  self,"  he  assented 
 with  all  liis  heart,  declaiing  that  this  was,  indeed,  more  than 
 "  all  biu-nt-offerings  and  sacrifices."  Jesus,  whose  loving 
 heai-t  always  welcomed  the  germs  of  truth  and  goodness, 
 praised  the  spirit  of  the  man's  reply,  saying,  "  TJiou  art  not  far 
 from  the  kingdom  of  God^  And  in  this  he  intended  no  moi'e 
 and  no  less  than  the  words  themselves  conveyed.  Had  he  con- 
 sidei'ed  an  earnest  moral  stri\-ing,  such  as  this  man  expressed, 
 to  be  sufficient,  he  would  have  acknowledged  him  as  not  only 
 futar,  but  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  tells  him,  however,  that 
 he  is  on  the  way  to  it,  because  he  was  freed  from  the  Pharisaic 
 delusion  of  the  righteousness  of  works,  and  knew  the  nature  of 
 gemiine  piety ;  and  could,  therefore,  more  readily  be  convinced 
 of  what  he  still  lacked  of  the  spint  of  the  law,  which  he  so  well 
 understood.  The  conscious  need  of  redemption,  thus  awakened, 
 would  lead  him  to  the  only  source  whence  his  wants  could  be 
 ■supphed. 
 
 §  250. — The  Parable  oftJu  Good  Samanian.  (Luke  x.  25,  scq.) 
 We  here  deviate  a  moment  from  chronological  order,  to  in- 
 troduce a  similitude  germane  to  the  convei"sation  ju.st  set  forth. 
 It  is  remax'kable  that  Luke  omits  that  conversation,  and  gives 
 the  parable  of  the  good  Samxiritan,^  which  is  obviou.sly  akin  to 
 it  in  import,  and  is,  in  turn,  omitted  by  the  other  EvangeUsts. 
 Perhaps  in  this,  as  in  other  cases  already  mentioned,'^  the  Evan- 
 geli.sts  divided  the  matter  among  them,  in  view  of  tliis  very 
 congeiuality  of  meaning. 
 
 ^  So,  at  the  council  of  Costnitz,  when  John  Huss,  the  %sitness  for  Christ 
 and  truth,  was  condemned  by  a  majority  of  scribes  and  priests,  tliere  were 
 yet  a  few  among  tlie  nuUtitude  of  better  spirit,  wlio  were  moved  by  the 
 power  of  truth  in  iiis  replies  and  conduct,  and  manifested  their  sympathy. 
 
 *  We  follow  Mark  rather  than  Matthew,  who  represents  the  question  as 
 put  in  a  hostile  spirit.  Mark's  description  coincides  with  Luke  xx.  39, 
 where  certain  of  the  scribes  are  represented  as  expressing  their  assent  to 
 the  Saviour's  answers. 
 
 ''  This  parable,  like  that  mentioned  p.  233,  note,  is  peculiar  in  this,  that 
 the  truth  of  the  higher  s[)here  ia  not  illustrated  by  a  fact  fri  ni  tlie  lower, 
 but  the  general  truth,  by  a  special  case  from  the  same  sphere,  which  may 
 in  itself  have  been  matter  of  fact.  ''  CT.  p.  3^6,  note,  and  p.  395. 
 
PSALM  ex.   1.  401 
 
 The  parable  introduces  a  man  asking  Christ  what  he  must 
 Jo  to  inherit  eternal  life.  We  might  infer  from  Luke's  state- 
 ment that  his  motives  were  bad ;  but  the  narrative  does  not 
 confirm  this  \'iew,  although  Christ's  reply  does  not  place  him 
 be.side  the  man  who  was  "  near"  the  kingdom  of  God.  He  was 
 one  of  the  vofiitcui  (la\vyers),  who,  as  we  have  said  (p.  269,  note), 
 differed  from  the  Pharisees  in  occupying  themselves  more  with 
 the  oiigiual  writings  of  Scripture  than  with  the  traditions.  In 
 •this  respect  they  stood  nearer  to  Christ  than  the  Pharisees. 
 The  Saviour  does  not  prescribe,  as  the  lawyer,  perhaps,  ex- 
 pected, any  new  and  special  command,  but  refers  him  to  the 
 law  itself,  which  he  had  made  his  pai-ticular  study :  "  Wltat  is 
 written  in  tlie  law  ?  How  readest  thou  i  "  The  lawyer  quoted 
 in  reply  (as  did  the  scribe  refeiTed  to  in  the  last  section)  the 
 iill-embracing  commandment  to  love  God  and  one's  neighbour". 
 '■'■Do  this^''  said  Christ,  ^^  and  tluni  shalt  live;'''  implying,  what, 
 indeed,  is  the  doctiine  of  the  whole  New  Testament,  that  if  a 
 man  were  really  capable  of  a  life  wlioUy  pervaded  by  tliLs  love, 
 he  would  lack  notldng  to  justify  him  before  God. 
 
 The  lawyer  was  probably  ill-disposed  to  dwell  upon  the 
 requisites  of  this  perfect  law;  and  Christ,  therefore,  sets 
 vividly  before  him  in  the  parable  the  nature  of  a  genuine  and 
 practical  loA^e,  sho^vn  in  the  Samaritan,  in  contrast  with  that 
 obedience  to  the  law  wliich  goes  no  further  than  the  lips, 
 illustrated  by  the  priest  and  the  Levite.  And  in  conclusion, 
 he  told  liim,  "  Go  thou  and  do  likewise,  and  thou  shalt  fulfil 
 the  law."  The  contra.st  between  true  and  pretended  love  is 
 thus  made  prominent  in  the  parable  in  opposition  (1)  to  the 
 hypocrisy,  and  (2)  to  the  narrow  exclusiveness  of  the 
 Pharisees.^ 
 
 §  251. — Ch-isi's  Interpretation  of  Psalm  ex.  1.     (}il:irk  xii.  35-37.) 
 
 V/e  return  now  to  the  order  of  the  narrative.     We  are 
 
 informed  by  the  Evangelists  that,  in  the  course  of  these  con- 
 
 trovei-sies  with  his  opponents,  Christ  put  to  them  the  question, 
 
 how  it  coidd  be  that  Me.ssiah  was  to  be  the  Son  of  David,  and 
 
 '  It  has  been  supposed,  since  Christ's  reply  is  not  precisely  an  answer  to 
 the  question  in  v.  29,  that  the  parable  may  have  been  separately  trann- 
 mitted,  and  at  a  later  period  put  into  this  connexion,  a  connexion  imitated 
 fi'om  Mark  xii.  '2S,  seq.  ;  the  two  verses  of  this  passage  ("29-31)  being 
 li-ansferrod  in  Luke  fi-om  Christ's  mouth  to  the  lawyer's.  But  even  if  we 
 admit  that  the  connecting  link  in  the  dialogue  is  not  fully  given  in  Luke 
 X.  2y,  the  historical  order  is  so  obvious,  that  we  are  thrown  upon  no  such 
 forced  explanations. 
 
 2d 
 
402 
 
 CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 pj.ggjc;gl„  David  called  Mm  "Lord"  (Ps.  ex.  1).  We  are  not 
 tlioueh  it'*^^^^  "vnth  what  \iew  he  proposed  the  question; 
 ment  that  '^^g^*'  perhaps,  be  inferred  from  Matthew's  state- 
 to  put  thei}^^®^'  ^^^  ^^^  ^°  answered  their  captious  queries  as 
 But  was  it  c  ^"^  shame,  he  sought  in  turn  to  embarrass  them, 
 questions  mOiisi^^e^*  '^^ith  the  dignity  of  his  character  to  put 
 events  is  to'^'^^^  ^^^'  ^^^^^  ^  purpose?  Nothing  like  it,  at  all 
 well  imaf^ine  ^®  foxmd  in  liis  words  or  actions.  Nor  can  we 
 embarrasted  t^^^*  *^®  shrewd  Pharisees  could  have  been  much 
 naturallv  have^  ^^^^^  ^^  interrogatory.  Their  views  would 
 to  in  respect  ti^^^sS^^*^^  *^^  I'eply  that  Messiah  was  alluded 
 David  • "  and  to '  bodily  descent,  when  called  the  "  Son  of 
 
 called  '"  Lord  "  ^^^  Divine  authority  as  Theocratic  King  when 
 follow  in  prefei''"^  ^^^  ^^^^'  *^^^'  as  in  a  recent  one,  we 
 which  Christ  r)i"®°^^  ^^^  statement  of  Mark;  according  to 
 perhaps  in  answ/*  *^^  question  while_  teaching  in  the  Temple, 
 
 But  for  what  ^^'  ^^  something  said  in  hostility  to  him.s 
 Shutting  out  e\  P^T^^^  ^^  instruction  did  he  quote  the  Psalm  ? 
 to  suppose  that  L^T  ^^^^g  but  what  Mark  says,  we  should  have 
 must  come  of  tht®  ^^®  ■^^  *°  combat  the  opimon  that  Messiah 
 good  his  claim  to  t.  ^"^  ''^-  ^'""J^^  '  ""•  '''-'^^^'  P^rtaps,  to  make 
 his  own  descent  fi^®  Messiahship  against  those  who  questioned 
 
 not  have  presuppos^^  .^^^<^  ^'^?J^^T  f?!,  ^'nJ-^'f  '°'^'^' 
 the  seed  of  Davicl  h^  ^^  ^  settled  tact"  that  Christ  was  oi 
 the  supposition  just'^<^.^«  ever  expressed  himself  according  to 
 case,  be  as  striking  a?^^^^"  ^*^^^  ^^^l*^  ^^  argument,  m  this 
 a.s  we  have  said,  he  nJ.^f  commonly  see  in  Ins  chsputes;  for 
 his  Son  in  another.  (fS^^  .^^  ^f  ^^^  .^  ^°''*^' '!"  ^""'^  '^''"''.  ""V^ 
 Psalm  in  order  to  ^n^f,  7^^^' *^^"' ^^^l^^*  ^>^'f  ^  ^^<^t^^*^^ 
 the  Son  of  God,  and  to  ^'"^^  ^^^  ^^^f  '^l^^  °f  *^\^  Messiah  as 
 
 Son  of  David,  but  a  one-PP^f '  .?^  *^  '^'',  ^^'""^  ^  '^'''  *""  ^^ 
 of  the  other  and  higher  c'^^^^  adherence  to  this,  at  the  expense 
 
 at  the  higher  titles  which;^f  ^^^■^^'^P;'^  ^^f  !^^^  ^^'^  ^^f  ^  *^^^^^ 
 have  been  thereby  led  to'  ^^  a.ssumed  to  hunself;  and  he  may 
 he  had  before  used  Ps.  lxx>^.'?°P^.  ^^  ^^'^^^^  ^?  argument.  As 
 own  ground  that  it  was  n^"  ^\  ^o  convmce  the  Jews  on  their 
 title  "Son  of  God"  in  th(°  blasphemy  for  hun  to  claim  the 
 Ps.  ex.  to  convince  them  thi'  ^'^^^''^  "^'^"^  5  so  now  he  u.sed 
 together  in  the  Messianic  "*  *^^  two  elements  were  blended 
 jnecpa.''     Still,  the  passage  may  only 
 
 K  The  word  arroKpiGtiQ  favourvjot  i 
 
 ^  Cf.  p.  17,  and  Heb.  vii.  14.     casi^  conclusion. 
 
 i  We  see  here  a  mark  of  that  '  ^^-  P-  2*^*^- 
 
 ^  ^  ler  unity  in  which  the  lineaments  of 
 
PSALM  ex.  1.  403 
 
 have  preserved  to  iis  the  head  or  beguming  of  a  fuller 
 exposition. 
 
 Even  though  it  be  proved  that  David  was  not  the  author  of 
 the  Psalm  quoted,  Christ's  argument  is  not  invalidated  thereby. 
 Its  principal  point  is  precisely  that  of  the  Psalm ;  the  idea  of 
 the  Theocratic  King,  King  and  Priest  at  once,  the  one  founded 
 UDon  the  other,  raised  up  to  God,  and  looking,  with  calm 
 assurance,  for  the  end  of  the  conflict  with  his  foes,  and  the 
 triimiphant  establishment  of  his  kingdom.  This  idea  could 
 never  be  realized  in  any  fnan;  it  was  a  prophecy  of  Christ, 
 and  in  Him  it  was  fidfiUed.  This  idea  went  forth  necessarily 
 from  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Dispensation,  and  from  the  organic 
 connexion  of  events  in  the  old  Theocracy;  it  was  the  blossom 
 of  a  histoiy  and  a  religion  that  were,  in  their  very  essence, 
 prophetical.  In  this  regard  it  is  matter  of  no  moment  whether 
 David  uttered  the  Psalm  or  not.  History  and  interpretation, 
 perhaps,  may  show  that  he  did  not.  But  whether  it  was  a 
 conscious  prediction  of  the  royal  poet,  or  whether  some  other, 
 in  poetic  but  holy  inspiration,  seized  upon  this  idea,  the  natural 
 blossom  and  off-shoot  of  Judaism,  and  assigned  it  to  an  earthly 
 monarch,  although  in  its  tiiie  sense  it  could  never  take  shape 
 and  form  in  such  a  one — still  it  was  tlie  idea  by  VN^hich  the 
 Spiiit,  of  which  the  inspired  seer,  whoever  he  may  have  been, 
 wjis  but  the  organ,  pointed  to  Jesus.  The  only  difference  is 
 that  between  conscious  and  unconscious  prophecy.  And  if 
 Christ  really  named  David  as  the  author  of  the  Psalm,  we  are 
 not  reduced  to  the  alternative  of  detracting  from  his  infalli- 
 bility and  unconditional  tmthfidness,  or  else  of  admitting  that 
 Da^dd  really  wrote  it.  The  question  of  the  authorship  was 
 immaterial  to  his  purpose ;  it  was  no  part  of  his  Di\TJie  calling 
 to  enter  into  such  investigations;  his  teachings  and  his  reve- 
 lation lay  in  a  very  different  sphere.  Here  [as  often  elsewhere] 
 he  doubtless  employed  the  ordinaiy  title  of  the  Psalm — ^the 
 one  to  wliich  liis  hearers  were  accustomed. 
 
 Wliat  we  have  said  in  another  place '^  in  regard  to  the  place 
 assigned  by  Christ  to  the  Old  Testament  and  to  the  prophecies 
 
 Christ's  picture,  as  given  by  the  first  three  Gospels,  harmonize  with  those 
 given  by  John.  Although  at  a  later  period  the  view  which  conceived 
 Christ,  as  to  his  calling,  person,  and  authority,  wholly  or  mainly  as  "the 
 Son  of  David,"  was  opposed  by  another  equally  one-sided  theory,  which 
 "•ecognized  him  only  as  "Son  of  God,"  and  thrust  out  the  "Son  of 
 David"  entirely  ;  it  would  be  a  most  arbitrary  procedure,  indeed,  to  infer 
 as  some  have  done]  that  the  prevalence  of  the  latter  doctrine  alone  gave 
 rise  to  the  invention  of  this  passage.  ''  Cf.  p.  215. 
 
 2  d2 
 
404  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 ifi  enough,  we  think,  to  show  that  he  regarded  it  as  a  revelation 
 not  fully  developed,  but  -veiled ;  not  brought  out  entirely  into 
 clear  consciousness,  but  containing  also  a  circle  of  unconscious 
 prophecies.  Let  us  be  careful  that  we  are  not  again  brought 
 into  bondage  to  a  Rabbinical  theology  of  the  letter,  than  which 
 nothing  can  be  more  at  variance  -with  the  spirit  of  Christ. 
 
 §  252.— r/tc  Widoivs  Mke.  (Luke  xxi.  1-4  ;  Mark  xii.  41-44.) 
 Christ  had  warned  the  disciples  agaiii.st  the  mock-holiness 
 ©f  the  Pharisees.  A  poor  Avidow  cast  two  mites,  all  her 
 wealth,  into  the  treasury  of  the  Temple.  He  matle  use  of 
 this  incident  to  impress  them  again  vdth  the  truth,  so  often 
 jmd  so  vai-iously  illustrated  by  him,  that  it  is  the  Imirl  which 
 fixes  the  character  of  pious  actions ;  that  the  greatest  gifts  are 
 valueless  A\dthout  pure  motives;  the  smallest,  worthy,  with 
 them.  The  same  piinciple  was  set  forth  in  his  saying  that 
 great  and  small  acts  were  alike  in  moral  worth,  if  done  in  his 
 
 J  25-3. — Chriat  predicts  the  Divine  Judffmoits  upon  Jerusalem.  (l^Iatt.  xxiii.) 
 Before  leading  the  Temple,  Christ  delivered  a  discoui-se  ^ 
 fiill  of  severity  against  the  heads  of  the  hierarchy,  through 
 whom  destruction  was  soon  to  be  bx'ought  upon  the  nation. 
 He  then  announced  the  judgments  of  God,  in  a  series  of  pro- 
 j>hecies  that  were  afterward  fulfilled  in  the  destruction  of 
 JeiiLsalem.  Regarding  liimself  as  already  removed  from  the 
 earth,  he  says  nothing  further  of  what  was  to  befitll  his  own 
 person,  but  predicts  that  the  agents  by  whose  labours  his 
 work  was  to  be  extended  would  be  pereecuted,  like  the 
 witnesses  for  the  truth  of  old;  and  that  the  Jews,  thus  jmi-- 
 taking  of  the  Avicked  spirit  of  their  fathers,  would  fill  up  the 
 measure  of  their  sms,  and  bring  u2)on  themselves  the  wrath 
 which  the  accumulated  guilt  of  ages  had  been  gathering, 
 frlaucing  with  Divine  confidence  at  the  development  of  his 
 work,  he  says :  "  Behold  !  I  send  unto  yoxu  propliets,  and  u-i^e 
 iiien,  and  scribes;^  and  some  of  them  ye  shall  scourge  in  your 
 
 •  Cf.  p.  315. 
 
 ■"  TJiis  discourse,  as  given  in  Matt,  xxiii.  contains  many  passages  uttered 
 Ml  other  occasions. 
 
 "  Tlie  application  of  these  Old  Testament  designations  to  Christ's  organs 
 is  not  strange  ;  he  intended  by  it  an  analogy  to  the  Theocratic  develop- 
 ment. There  were  prophets  in  the  early  Christian  Church  ;  and  tlie  term 
 "scribes"  is  .ipplied,  in  Matt.  xiii.  52,  to  teachers  in  the  "  kingdom  of 
 heaven"  on  earth.  As  thitt  last  discourse,  as  given  by  M.atthew,  contains 
 various  passages  given  by  Luke  in  the  table  conversation  (ch.  xi.),  so  Luke 
 inserts  tltere  this  prophetic  announcement,  whose  proper  jiosition  is  found 
 
THE  SECONT)  ADVENT.  40.) 
 
 sjpuigoffues,  aiid  persecute  tliemfrom  city  to  city ;  and  some  of 
 them  ye  s/udl  kill  and  cncci/y."  He  concludes  with  a  mournful 
 allusion  to  the  catastrophe  which  was  to  be  so  big  \\-ith 
 interest  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  to  the  judgment  over  Jenj- 
 salem,  and  to  his  second  advent  to  judge  the  earth  and  com- 
 plete his  work.  "  0  Jerusalem,  Jeruscdem,  thou  that  killest  the 
 jyropliets,  and  stoniest  them  lohich  are  sent  unto  thee,  Iwio  often 
 wordd  I  have  gathered  thy  children  together,  even  as  a  hen 
 gathercth  her  chickens  tender  Iier  icings,  and  ye  xvoxdd  ttot? 
 Behold!  your  hcnijse  is  Ipft  vnto  you  desolate ;V  for  I  say  ludo 
 you,  t/uct  ye  sluill  not  see  rue  henceforth,  till  ye  shall  say,  Blessed 
 is  lie  that  conuth  in  tlie  namie  oftlie,  Lmxl"  He  obviously,  in 
 this  last  clause,  betokens  his  second  and  triumphal  advent  as 
 Theocratic  King.  Other  persons,  however,  are  implied  than 
 those  to  whom  the  discourse  was  directed :  they  were  least 
 likely  ever  to  welcome  him  witli  praises,  and  the  words  denote 
 a  willing,  not  a  forced  submission.  We  take  them  as  refeiTing 
 to  the  Jews  in  general,  as  the  pre\'ious  verse  refers  to  the 
 inliabitants  of  Jerusalem  in  general ;  the  particular  generatioa 
 intended  being  left  undefined. 
 
 §  254. — Christ's  Prediction  of  tlie  Comiiuj  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  avd  of 
 his  Second  Advent.     (Mark  xiii.  ;  Matt,  xxiv.) 
 
 Christ  had  left  the  Temple  ^vith  the  disciples.  They  were 
 admiring  the  external  splendour  of  the  edifice,  and  he,  still 
 fiill  of  prophecy,  took  advantage  of  it  to  tell  them  that  all  this 
 
 in  Matthew.  In  opposition  to  Br.  Schnecl-enburger  (Stud.  d.  Evang. 
 Geistl.  Wiirtemb.  vi.  1,  p.  35),  I  must  think  that  the  fonu  of  Christ's 
 words  given  by  Luke  is  the  less  original.  It  shows  the  traces  of  Christian 
 language.  In  Luke  xi.  49,  this  prophecy  is  introduced  as  coming  from 
 "the  wisdom  of  God"  (cf.  Wisdom  of  Solomon,  vii.  2").  The  origin  of 
 this  form  of  citati(jn  is  accounted  for  very  naturally  by  my  dear  cnlleao-ue 
 and  friend,  Dr.  Tvcstcn,  on  the  ground  that  so  notable  a  prediction  could 
 readily  be  transmitted  as  a  separate  one  ;  that  it  was  so  transmitted  as  an 
 utterance  of  the  Divine  wisdom  manifested  in  Christ  ;  and  that  Luke, 
 receiving  it  in  this  form,  so  incoqwrated  it  in  his  collection. 
 
 °  We  have  already  remarked  that  these  words  necessarily  presuppose 
 previous  and  repeated  labours  of  Christ  at  Jerusalem.  Cf.  pp.  165,  356, 
 note. 
 
 P  He  withtlraws  fi-om  them  his  blessing,  saving  presence,  and  "leaves" 
 them,  since  they  will  not  Ije  saved,  to  the  desolation  and  destruction  they 
 have  brought  upon  themselves.  By  the  word  "house"  we  need  not 
 necessarily  understand  "temple"  (cf.  Dc  Wctte,  in  loc.)  ;  but  it  is  yet  a 
 question  whether  Christ  did  not  really  mean  the  Temple,  which  he  was 
 iust  leaving.  If  so,  he  calls  it  "their"  house,  not  the  house  of  God, 
 Ijecause  their  depraNaty  had  desecrated  the  holy  place.  His  leaving  it  was 
 a  sign  that  God's  presence  should  dwell  in  it  no  more. 
 
406  CHKIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 magnificence  should  be  swept  away  in  tlie  general  niia  of  the 
 city.  These  intimations  kindled  an  anxious  curiosity  in  their 
 minds,  and  when  they  were  alone  Avith  him,  upon  the  Mount 
 of  Olives,  they  questioned  him  closely  as  to  the  signs  hy  which 
 the  approaching  catastrophe  could  be  known,  and  the  time 
 when  it  should  take  place. 
 
 It  was  certainly  far  from  Christ's  intention  to  give  them  a 
 complete  view  of  the  com'se  of  development  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God  up  to  its  final  consmnmation.  He  iinparted  only  so 
 much  as  w^as  necessary  to  guard  them,  against  deception,  to 
 stimidate  theu"  watchftdness,  and  confirm  their  confidence 
 that  the  end  would  come  at  last.  Much,  indeed,  -was  at  that 
 time  beyond  their  comprehension,  and  could  only  be  made 
 clear  by  the  enlightening  influence  of  the  Spiiit,  and  by  the 
 progi-ess  of  events.  Indeed,  if  they  had  fidly  understood  the 
 intimations  he  had  previously  given,  they  might  have  S2:)ared 
 themselves  many  questions.  It  was  always  Chiist's  method 
 to  cast  into  their  minds  the  seeds  of  truth,  that  were  only  to 
 spring  up  into  full  consciousness  at  a  later  period.  This  was 
 especially  the  case  in  his  prophecies  of  the  future  progress  and 
 prospects  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  A  clear  and  connected 
 knowledge  on  that  point  was  not  essential  to  the  preachei-s  of 
 his  Gospel.  Many  predictions  had  necessarily  to  remain  ob- 
 scure until  the  time  of  then'  fulfilment.  He  himself  says 
 (Matt.  xxiv.  36;  Mark  xiii.  32)  that  the  day  and  hour  of  the 
 final  decision  are  known  only  to  the  counsels  of  the  Father; 
 and,  as  it  would  be  trifling  to  refer  this  to  the  precise  "  day 
 and  hour,"  rather  than  to  the  time  in  general,  it  could  not 
 have  been  his  purpose  to  give  definite  information  on  the 
 subject.  To  know  the  time,  presupposed  a  knowledge  of  the 
 hidden  causes  of  events,  of  the  actions  and  reactions  of  free 
 beings — a  prescience  which  none  but  the  Father  could  have; 
 unless  we  suppose,  what  Christ  expressly  denies,  that  He  had 
 received  it  by  a  special  Di-saue  revelation.  Not  that  he  could 
 err,  but  that  his  knowledge  was  conscious  of  its  limits; 
 although  he  knew  the  progress  of  events,  and  saw  the  slow 
 coui-se  of  their  development,*!  as  no  mortal  could. 
 
 When,  therefore,  Christ  speaks  in  this  discoxu'se  of  the  gi'eat 
 impoi't  of  liis  coming  for  the  liistoiy  of  tlie  world,  of  his 
 triumphant  self-manifestation,  and  of  tlie  beginning  of  his 
 kingdom,  he    betokens   thereby  partly  his   triumph   in   the 
 
 1  Cf.  p.  80,  on  the  Plan  of  Jesus,  and  200,  seq.,  on  the  Parables  of  the 
 Kingdom  of  God, 
 
THE  SECOND  ADVEXT.  407 
 
 destruction  of  the  visible  Theocracy,  and  its  results  in  the 
 freer  and  -wider  diffiision  of  his  kingdom,  and  partly  his  second 
 advent  for  its  consummation.  The  judgment  over  the  dege- 
 nerate Theocracy,  and  the  final  judgment  of  the  world;  the 
 first  free  development  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  its  final 
 and  glorious  consummation,  correspond  to  each  other  :  the 
 former,  in  each  case,  prefiguring  the  latter.  And  so,  in  general, 
 all  great  epochs  of  the  world's  history,  in  which  God  reveals 
 himself  as  Judge,  condemning  a  creation  ripe  for  destruction, 
 and  calling  a  new  one  into  being;  all  critical  and  creative 
 epochs  of  the  world's  history  correspond  to  each  other,  and 
 collectively  prefigure  the  last  judgToent  and  the  last  creation — 
 the  consummation  of  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 
 If  Christ  had  been  but  a  prophet,  we  might  indeed  suppose 
 that  the  image  of  the  glorious  future  which  unveiled  itself  to 
 his  seeing  glance  in  moments  of  inspiration,  was  involuntarily 
 blended  in  his  mind  with  the  realities  of  the  present ;  and 
 that  events,  separated  by  long  intervals  of  time,  presented 
 themselves  as  closely  joined  together.  But  we  must  here 
 distinguish  between  the  conscious  truth  and  the  defective 
 forms  in  which  it  was  apprehended;  between  the  revelation  of 
 the  Divine  Spirit  in  itself,  and  the  hues  which  it  took  from 
 the  narrowness  of  human  apprehension,  and  the  forms  of  the 
 time  in  which  it  was  delivered.  In  Christ,  however,  we  can 
 recognize  no  blending  of  truth  with  error,  no  alloy  of  the 
 truth  as  it  appeared  to  his  own  mind.'"  Wbat  we  have  already 
 said  is  enough  to  show  that  this  coidd  not  coexist  with  the 
 expositions  given  by  him  of  the  kingdom  of  God.  But  it  is 
 easy  to  explain  how  points  of  time  which  he  kept  apart, 
 although  he  presented  them  as  counterparts  of  each  other, 
 without  assigning  any  express  dui-ation  to  either,  were  blended 
 together  in  the  apprehension  of  his  hearers,  or  in  their  subse- 
 quent repetitions  of  his  language. ^ 
 
 '  Cf.  p.  81. 
 
 ^  It  was  peculiar,  as  we  have  seen,  to  the  editor  of  our  Greek  Mattliew, 
 to  arrange  together  congenial  sayings  of  Christ,  though  uttered  at  different 
 times  and  in  different  relations;  and  we  have  remarked  this  (p.  350,  note  "■) 
 in  reference  to  the  discourse  in  Matt.  xxiv.  We  need  not,  therefbre, 
 wonder  if  we  find  it  impossible  to  draw  the  lines  of  distinction  in  this  dis- 
 course with  entire  accuracy;  nor  need  such  a  result  lead  us  to  forced 
 interpretations,  inconsistent  with  truth  and  with  the  love  of  truth.  It  is 
 much  easier  to  make  sucli  distinctions  in  Luke's  account  (ch.  xxi.),  though 
 even  that  is  not  without  its  difficulties.  In  comparing  JNIatthew  and  Luke 
 together,  however,  we  can  trace  the  origin  of  most  of  these  difficulties  to 
 the  blending  of  different  portions  together,  when  the  discourses  of  Christ 
 
408  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 §  255. — Parable  of  the  Marriage  Feast  of  the  King's  Son.  (I^Iatt.  xxii.  11  J. ^ 
 Matthew  assigns  to  this  period  several  parables  in  which 
 Christ  illustrated  the  course  of  development  of  the  kingdom 
 of  God.  Some  of  them  a^^  allied  to  those  mentioned  by  us 
 before  in  following  Luke's  account.  But  their  aflSnity  does 
 not  justify  us  in  concluding,  with  some  modem  ■\vi-iters,  that 
 they  were  originally  one  and  the  same,  and  that  the  variations 
 in  their  form  are  due  to  their  more  or  less  faitliful  transmission. 
 We  hope  to  be  able  to  show,  a.s  we  have  done  in  other  ca-ses, 
 that  the  allied  parables  are  alike  original,  and  were  alike 
 uttei'ed  by  Christ  himself 
 
 We  take  up  first  the  parable  of  the  Marriage  of  the  King's 
 Son  (Matt.  xxii).  The  kingdom  of  God  is  here  represented 
 under  the  figure  of  a  mai-riage  feast  given  by  the  King  (God) 
 to  his  Son  (Christ).  The  guests  invited  are  the  members  of 
 the  old  Theocratic  nation.  When  the  banquet  is  prepared 
 (i.e.  when  the  kingdom  of  God  is  to  be  established  upon  earth), 
 the  king  sends  liis  servants  out  at  difl'erent  times  to  call  in  the 
 guests  that  were  before  bidden.  Some  follow  their  business, 
 Avithout  the  least  regard  to  the  invitation;  corresjjouding  to 
 those  men  who  are  wholly  devoted  to  earthly  things,  and  in- 
 different to  the  Divine.  Others,  going  still  further,  seize, 
 abuse,  and  finally  kill  the  servants;  rei:)re.scnting  men  deci- 
 dedly hostile  to  the  Gospel,  and  persecutors  of  its  preacher.-!. 
 It  is  not  strange  that  Christ  does  not  in  this,  as  in  another 
 parable,  add  another  point  of  gi-adation,  by  senduig  out  the 
 son  to  be  maltreated  also ;  it  would  not  harmonize  Anth  the 
 plan  of  the  parable  for  the  king's  son,  in  who.se  honour  the  feast 
 was  given,  to  go  about  like  a  servant  and  invite  his  guests. 
 Moreover,  the  parable  refers  to  Christ's  agents,  not  to  himself; 
 as  he  speaks  of  a  time  when  he  shall  no  more  be  present  on  tho 
 earth. 
 
 When  the  king  learns  what  has  passed,  he  sends  his  araiio:, 
 
 were  arranged  in  collections.  It  is  true,  Strausi<  and  De  IVctle  as.=iert  that 
 the  form  of  the  discourse.'*  in  Matthew  is  nmch  more  original  than  in  Luke ; 
 that  the  latter  bears  marks  of  a  date  subsequent  to  the  destruction  of  Jeru- 
 salem; and,  tlicrefore,  that  it  was  remodelled  after  the  event  had  given  its 
 light  to  the  prediction,  and  .shown  the  falsity  of  some  of  the  exjwctjitions 
 entertained  by  the  disciples.  But  does  the  character  of  the  di.sconrse  con- 
 firm this  hypothesis?  AVouM  the  narrator,  in  such  a  case,  have  left  such 
 passages  unaltered  as  xxi.  10,  also  IS,  compared  with  l«j  and  28?  It  is 
 impossible  to  carry  the  hypothesis  through  consistently  with  itself ;  and 
 the  natural  conclusion  is,  tliat  Luke  has,  as  usual,  given  us  Christ's  dis- 
 courses in  the  most  faithful  and  original  wa}'. 
 
THE  MARRIAGE  TEAST.  400 
 
 seizes  the  mm-derevs,  and  burns  their  city ;  con-esponding  to  the 
 prophecy  of  the  judgment  over  the  Jews  and  the  destnictiou 
 of  Jerusalem.  As  tlie  city  is  destroyed,  new  guests  cannot  be 
 in%ited  from  thence ;  the  king  sends  his  servants  out  into  the 
 highways,  frequented  by  many  travellers,  -with  orders  to  in^•ite 
 every  body  to  the  -svedding;  a  prophetic  intimation,  obviously, 
 that,  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  and  of  the  old  Theo- 
 cratic nation,  the  doors  of  the  kingdom  would  be  thrown  \s'ide 
 open,  and  all  the  heathen  nations  be  invited  to  come  in.  The 
 servants,  in  execution  of  the  command,  bring  in  all  whom  they 
 meet,  both  good  and  bad. 
 
 A  second  prominent  feature  of  <he  parable  now  appears  : 
 the  sifting  of  the  guests.  Those  who  have  a  just  sense  of  the 
 honour  done  them  by  the  in\itation,  and  come  iii  a  wedding- 
 garment,  represent  such  as  tit  themselves  for  niembersliip  of 
 the  kingdom  of  God  by  proper  dispositions  of  heart;  whik^ 
 those  who  come  in  the  garb  in  which  the  invitation  happens 
 to  find  them  correspond  to  such  as  accept  the  calls  of  tht> 
 Gospel  Avithout  any  change  of  heart.  Christ  himself  gives, 
 prominence  to  this  feature  of  the  parable  in  the  words,  "Maw/ 
 are  called,  but  fcio  are  chosoi;"  distinguishing  the  great  mass 
 of  outward  professors  who  obey  the  external  call  from  the  fevv- 
 who  arc  "  chosen,"  because  their  hearts  are  right.*' 
 
 This  pai-able  is  certainly  srmilai"  to  that  in  Luke  xiv.  lG-24, 
 befoie  treated  of  j'^  but  the  new  and  difi'erent  featui'es  whicli 
 
 '  Many  interpreters  think  the  case  sliould  be  conceived  thus :  The  caftan, 
 or  wedding-dress,  was  offered  to  the  guests,  according  to  Oriental  custom, 
 by  the  king  himself,  and  their  disrespect  was  shown  in  refusing  to  accept 
 it  at  his  hands ;  thus  representing  justification  by  faith  as  the  offered  gift 
 of  Divine  grace.  This  conception  would  help  us  to  explain  how  the  guests 
 taken  upon  the  road  might  have  secured  the  wedding-garment,  had  thev 
 chosen  to  do  so;  nor  is  it  a  sufficient  objection  to  it  to  s;iy  that  such  a 
 usage  cannot  be  proved  to  have  prevailed  in  ancient  times;  for  the  simi- 
 larity of  modem  to  ancient  customs  in  the  East  is  so  great,  that  we  can 
 infer  from  such  a.s  exist  now,  or  at  late  periods,  that  like  ones  prevailed  in 
 the  earliest  ages.  But  if  a  thought  so  important  to  the  whole  paral^le  had 
 been  intended,  Christ  would  not  have  failed  to  express  it  definitely  ;  he 
 would  have  expressly  reprimanded  the  delinquent  guests  with,  "The  gar- 
 ment was  offered  as  a  gift,  and  ye  would  not  accept  it;  so  much  the  greater 
 j-our  guilt."  In  short,  if  this  conception  be  the  right  one,  we  must  infer 
 either  that  the  paraljlo  has  not  been  faithfully  transmitted,  or  that  the 
 usage  referred  to  was  so  general  in  the  East  that  no  particular  reference 
 to  it  wa,s  nece.ssary.  At  all  events,  the  mode  by  which  the  wedding-dres.-< 
 could  be  obtained  was  not  important  to  Christ's  purpose  ;  and  the  absence 
 of  any  allusion  to  it  does  not  justify  Strauss'n  conclusion  that  there  is  a 
 foreign  trait  in  the  parable,  or  that  it  is  composed  of  several  heterogeneous 
 parts.  »  Cf.  p.  276^ 
 
410  CBLRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 it  presents  indicate  that  it  was  uttered  at  a  different  period. 
 In  Luke's  parable  the  hostility  of  the  invited  guests  is  not  so 
 decided;  they  offer  excuses  for  not  coming.  The  contrast,  in 
 fact,  is  limited  to  the  Jewish  nation;  the  poor  and  despised 
 Je-svish  people  being  opposed  to  the  Pharisees.  And  as  no 
 general  Jewish  enmity  is  alluded  to,  so  the  destniction  of  Je- 
 rusalem is  not  mentioned  at  all,  and  the  calling  of  the  heathen 
 only  by  the  way. 
 
 §  256. — Parable  of  the  WicKcd  JIushandman.     (Matt.  xxi.  33-44- ; 
 Mark  xii.  1-12  ;  Luke  xx.  9-18.) 
 
 The  gi-adations  of  giiilt  in  the  conduct  of  the  Jews  towards 
 the  Divine  messengers,  aid,  finally,  towards  the  Son  himself, 
 are  set  forth  more  prominently  in  the  parable  of  the  vioieyard 
 and  the  toiched  vine-dressers  (Matt.  xxi.  33).  The  enjoyment  of 
 the  kingdom  of  God  is  the  point  contemplated  in  the  parable 
 of  the  marriage  of  the  king's  son ;  the  labour  done  for  it  is  that 
 of  the  parable  now  before  its.  The  fonner  represents  the  king- 
 dom in  its  consummation  in  the  tellowship  of  the  redeemed; 
 the  latter,  in  its  gradual  development  on  earth,  demanding  the 
 acti\dty  of  men  for  its  advancement.  The  lord  of  the  vineyard 
 had  done  everytliing  necessaiy  for  its  cultivation ;  so  had  God 
 ordained  all  things  wisely  for  the  prosperity  of  his  kingdom 
 among  the  Jews;  all  that  was  wanting  was  that  they  should 
 rightly  use  the  means  instituted  by  him.  Tlie  lord  of  the  vine- 
 yard had  a  right  to  demand  of  his  tenants  a  due  proportion  of 
 fruit  at  the  vintage ;  so  God  required  of  the  Jews,  to  whom  he 
 had  intrusted  the  Theocracy  to  be  cultivated,  the  fruits  of  a 
 corresponding  life.  Wlien  the  earUer  messengers  sent  to  call 
 them  to  repentance  had  been  e\-illy  entreated  and  slain,  he 
 sends  his  Son,  the  destined  heir  of  the  vineyard,  the  King  of 
 the  Theocracy.  But  as  they  shew  like  dishonour  to  him,  and 
 kdl  him  to  secure  themselves  entire  independence — to  tui-n  the 
 kingdom  of  God  into  anarchy — liis  judgments  break  forth; 
 the  Theocratic  relation  is  broken,  and  the  kingdom  is  trans- 
 fen-ed  to  other  nations  that  shall  bring  forth  fruits  correspond- 
 ing to  it.' 
 
 §  257.— Parable  of  the  Talents  (Matt.  xxv.  14-30)  compared  witJt,  tJtat  of  the 
 Pounds.     (Luke  xbc.  12.) 
 
 Tlie  parable  of  the  talents  (Matt,  xxv.)  is  e^-idently  allied  to 
 that  of  the  pounds''''  (Luke  xix.  12);  but  there  are  points  of 
 
 '  It  is  to  be  observed  tliat  the  judgment  of  the  Jewish  nation  is  here 
 represented  as  a  "coming  of  the  Lord  ;"  intimating  that  we  are  to  see  in 
 that  judgment  a  "coming"  of  his  in  a  spiritual  sen.se.  "  Cf.  p.  384. 
 
PARABLE  OP  THE  TALENTS.  -ill 
 
 diflference  too  striking  to  be  ascribed  to  alterations  in  trans- 
 mission. In  the  latter,  each  of  the  servants  receives  the  same 
 sum,  one  pound,  and  their  position  in  the  kingdom  is  assigned 
 according  to  their  gains.  In  the  fonnei',  dilierent  sums  are 
 entrusted  to  the  servants  in  proportion  to  then*  ability,  and 
 those  who  bring  gauis  in  the  same  proportion  are  rewarded 
 accordingly.  The  arm,  therefore,  of  Luke's  parable  is  to  repre- 
 sent different  degrees  of  zeal  iu  the  management  of  one  and  the 
 same  tiling,  gi-anted  to  all  alike;  of  Matthew's,  to  show  that 
 one's  acceptance  does  not  depend  upon  his  powers,  or  the 
 extent  of  his  sphere  of  labour,  but  upon  faithfulness  of  heart, 
 which  is  independent  of  both.  If  the  different  number  of 
 talents  in  the  latter  parable  represents  different  spheres  of 
 labour,  greater  or  less,  corresponding  to  different  measures 
 of  power,  then  the  one  pound  in  the  former  must  represent  the 
 (me  common  endowment  of  Christians — the  one  Di\Tne  life  or 
 the  one  Divine  truth  received  into  the  life  in  all  believers — the 
 one  Divine  power,  proving  itself  by  its  fruits  in  all  who  par- 
 take of  it — but  5''et  admitting  of  different  degrees  of  fruitful- 
 ness,  according  to  the  completeness  with  which  it  is  willingly 
 received  and  appropriated.  These  points  of  difference  in  the 
 two  parables  presuppose  that  they  had  different  objects.  That 
 of  the  talents  aimed  to  intimate  that  the  reward  depends  upon 
 the  motives,  not  upon  the  amount  of  one's  labours,  except  so 
 far  as  this  might  be  affected  by  the  disposition  of  the  heart ; 
 and  perhaps,  also,  to  rebuke  ambition  and  jealousy  among  the 
 discii:)les  themselves.  That  of  the  2^ound,  on  the  other  hand, 
 was  designed  to  stimulate  the  zeal  of  the  Apostles  in  their 
 labour's  for  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  encourage  them  to  a  holy 
 emulation. 
 
 In  both  parables  the  servant  who  makes  no  use  of  the  capital 
 entrusted  to  him  is  condemned.  But  in  Matthew  this  servant 
 is  precisely  the  one  to  whom  only  one  talent  is  given;  rej^re- 
 senting,  perhaps,  those  who,  with  inferior  powers,  have  insuffi- 
 cient confidence,  and  make  the  smallness  of  their  gifts  and  the 
 narro^vness  of  their  sphere  of  labour  a  plea  for  inactivity ;  such 
 as  say,  compariug  their  talents  and  opportunities  with  those  of 
 others,  "  ^V^lat  can  be  expected  of  me,  to  whom  so  Uttle  has 
 been  given?"  Here  again,  then,  faitlifidness  and  zeal,  not  the 
 measure  of  gifts,  are  made  prominent.  In  the  parable  of  the 
 jiounds,  the  one  pound  is  taken  away  from  the  negligent  ser- 
 vant, and  given  to  liim  that  gained  most;  in  harmony  with 
 the  scope  of  the  parable,  that  which  the  negligent  one  never 
 
412  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 truly  possessed  (because  he  never  used  it)  is  transferred  to  him 
 who  proved  himself  worthy  of  the  trust,  by  gaining  most.  It 
 is  not  so  in  the  parable  of  the  talents ;  here  equality  in  motive 
 and  disposition  is  the  main  point,  so  that  the  quantitative  dif- 
 ferences disappear,  and  he  who  with  five  talents  gains  other 
 five  deserves  no  pre-eminence  on  that  accoxmt.  The  feature, 
 therefore,  given  in  Matt.  xxv.  28,  is  not  so  appropriate  to  his 
 l)arable  a.s  to  Luke's ;  at  all  events,  it  belongs  only  to  the  filling 
 up  of  the  i)icture  in  the  former,  while  in  the  latter  it  is  a  pro- 
 minent feature. 
 
 §  258. — Parable  of  tlie  Wise  and  Foolish  Virgins.  (Matt.  xxv.  1-13.) 
 The  parable  of  the  virgins  was  designed  to  set  vividly  before 
 the  disciples  the  necessity  of  constant  preparation  for  the  un- 
 certain time  of  Christ's  second  advent,  mthout  at  all  clearing 
 np  the  imcertainty  of  the  time  itself;  thus  harmonizing  exactly 
 with  all  liis  teachings  on  the  subject.  It  is  certainly,  also,  the 
 representation  (so  often  made  by  Chi'ist)  of  the  idea  of  Chris- 
 tian virtue  under  the  form  of  prudence;  and  illustrates  the 
 connexion  between  Christian  prudence  and  that  ever-^-igilant 
 presence  of  .mind  wliich  springs  from  one  constant  and  jjredo- 
 minent  aim  of  life.  But  we  must  distinguish  between  the 
 fundamental  thought  of  the  parable  and  its  supplementary 
 features.  It  may  be  that  one  of  these  latter  is  the  fruitless 
 application  of  the  foolish  virgins  to  the  wise  for  a  supply  which 
 they  might  have  secured  for  themselves  by  adequate  care  and 
 forethought;  yet,  perhaps,  Christ,  piercing  the  recesses  of  the 
 human  heai't,  and  seeing  its  tendency  to  trust  in  the  vicarious 
 services  and  merits  of  others,  may  have  intended,  by  this 
 feature  of  the  parable,  to  warn  his  disciples  against  such  a 
 fatal  erroi". 
 
 §  259. — Christ  (caches  that  Faith  must  prove  itself  Ly  WorJcs. 
 (Matt.  xxv.  31-46.) 
 
 At  the  clo.se  of  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  of  Matthew  there 
 is  given  a  representation  of  the  final  judgment.  There  has 
 been,  and  may  be,  much  debate  as  to  both  the  form  and  the 
 substance  of  this  i-epresentation.  In  regard  to  the  latter  it 
 may  be  asked,  '•  "What  judgment  is  alluded  to,  and  who  are  to 
 be  judged  f  One  I'eply  is,  that  the  judgment  of  unbelievers 
 alone  is  meant;''  because,  according  to  Chi-ist's  own  words 
 (John  iii.  18),  believers  are  freed  from  judgment;  and  because 
 
 ^  Advocated  particularly  by  Keil  (Opuscula)  and  OUhausen  (Com- 
 iiieritar.). 
 
FAITH  AND  WORKS.  413 
 
 the  objects  of  the  judgment  are  designated  by  the  term  'idrrj, 
 ^%  a  term  applied  exclusively  to  that  portion  of  mankind 
 which  does  not  lielong  to  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 
 It  is  true,  the  Scriptures  teach  (Rom.  ii.  12,  seq.)  that  even 
 among  these  nations  there  are  degrees  of  moral  character 
 wliich  -will  certainly  be  recognized  by  the  just  judge;  but  the 
 flistinctions  draAvn  by  the  judge  in  the  passage  before  us  are 
 not  of  this  character.  Further,  the  theory  alluded  to  wall  not 
 explain  why  sympathy  and  assistance  rendered  to  beHevers  are 
 made  the  sole  standard,  and  all  other  moral  tests  thrown  out. 
 All  that  it  can  offer  is  one  or  the  other  of  the  following  sup- 
 positions :  either  that  tliis  sympathy  is  a  general  love  for  man- 
 kind, and  its  manifestation  to  proclaimers  of  the  Gospel  merely 
 an  accidental  feature ;  or  that  it  springs  from  a  dii-ect  interest 
 in  the  cause  of  ChrLst  and  the  Gospel  itself  But  the  first  sup- 
 position would  make  the  ascription  of  special  value  to  these 
 acts  inconsistent  with  the  standard  set  up  by  Christ  himself; 
 for  the  acts  are  (according  to  the  hypothesis)  outward  and  ac- 
 cidental. The  second  does,  indeed,  afford  a  gi-ound  for  prefer- 
 ence in  the  motive,  "viz.  love  of  Christ's  cause;  but,  then,  it 
 does  away  the  theory  itself,  for  the  development  of  such  a 
 sentiment  in  the  minds  of  those  who  entertain  it  would  inevi- 
 tably make  them  Christians. 
 
 This  theory,  therefore,  is  untenable  on  either  side.  It  is 
 fui-ther  refuted  by  the  fact  that,  in  the  passage,  Clmst  bestows 
 upon  those  to  whom  he  awai'ds  liis  praise  the  very  titles 
 which  belong  exclusively  to  believers:  as  the  "righteous ;"  the 
 "  blessed  of  the  Father,  for  wliom  the  kingdom  ivas  prepared  frmix 
 tlie.  foundation  of  the  tvorld"  We  conclude,  therefore,  that  the 
 judgment  will  include  the  trial  and  sifting  of  professors  of  the 
 faith  themselves.  As  before  that  final  decision  ♦the  faith  of 
 the  Gospel  will  have  been  spread  among  aU  nations,  so  all 
 nations  are  represented  as  brought  to  the  bar;  but,  among 
 these,  genuine  believers  will  be  sej^arated  from  those  whose 
 fidehty  has  not  been  pro\-ed  by  their  lives.  Indeed,  we  have 
 already  treated  of  several  parables  which  presuppose  such  a 
 final  sifting  of  believers;  nor  is  it  at  all  inconsistent  with  the 
 conscious  assurance  of  the  faithfal  that  they  are  free  from 
 judgment  through  the  redemption  ot  Christ. 
 
 It  is  everywhere  taught  by  him  that  brotherly  love  is  a 
 peculiar  fruit  of  faith,  the  very  test  of  its  genuineness ;  and  we 
 cannot  wonder,  therefore,  to  find  it  made  so  prominent  in  this 
 passage.     The  pious  are  represented  in  it  as  follo'sWng  the  im- 
 
414  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 pulses  of  a  true  brotherly  loTe,  founded  upon  love  to  Christ, 
 and  as  manifesting  this  love  in  kind  acts  to  their  brethren 
 without  I'espect  to  persons.  Yet  they  attach  no  merit  to  their 
 ■works,  and  are  amazed  to  find  the  Lord  value  them  so  highly 
 as  to  consider  them  clone  unto  himself.  But  those  whose  faith 
 is  lifeless  and  loveless,  and  who  rely  upon  their  outward  con- 
 fessions of  the  Lord  for  their  acceptance,  are  amazed,  on  the 
 other  hand,  at  their  rejection.  Never  conscious  of  the  intimate 
 connexion  between  faith  and  love,  or  of  genuine  Christian 
 feelings  referring  everything  to  Christ,  and  seeing  him  in  all 
 things,  they  cannot  understand  why  he  interprets  their  lack  of 
 love  for  the  brethren  into  lack  of  love  for  himself  The  mere 
 fact  that  faith  is  not  expressly  mentioned  in  connexion  with 
 the  judgment  does  not  aftect  our  view;  it  is  taken  for  granted 
 that  all  have  ah'eady  professed  the  faith,  and  the  genuine  be- 
 lievers are  to  be  separated  from  the  spurious. 
 
 On  the  whole,  then,  we  ax'e  not  to  look  upon  this  represen- 
 tation as  a  ])ktui-e  of  the  final  judgment.  Its  aim  is  to  set 
 forth,  most  vividly  and  impressively,  the  great  and  fundamental 
 truth,  that  no  faith  but  that  which  proves  itself  by  works  can 
 secure  a  title  to  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  We  cannot  fail  to 
 see  in  the  "  throne,"  the  "  right  hand,"  the  "  left  hand,"  &c., 
 a  figin-ative  cbapeiy,  attending  and  setting  off  the  one  funda- 
 mental thought.  Moreover,  it  was  not  Christ's  usage  to  speak 
 of  himself  directly  under  the  title  of  "  King."  The  form  of  the 
 description,  then,  wc  suppose  to  have  been  parabolical ;  and 
 its  character  in  this  respect  was  probably  still  more  obrious 
 when  Christ  delivered  it. 
 
 §  260.— rA«  Heathens  with  Christ.  (John  xii.  20,  seq.) 
 Among  Uie  hosts  of  \asiters  at  the  feast  there  were  not  a 
 few  heatltens  who  had  come  to  the  knowledge  of  Jehovah  as 
 the  true  God,  and  were  accustomed  to  worsliip  statedly  at 
 Jerusalem ;  jierhaps  proselytes  of  the  gate.>'  Christ's  triumphal 
 entry -^  and  ministry  attracted  their  attention,   and  aU  that 
 
 -"  This  may  be  inferred  from  the  use  of  ava€aiv6vTb)v  (v.  20). 
 
 '  There  appears  to  be  a  discrepancy  between  John  and  the  other  Evan- 
 gelists, if  the  facts  related  by  him  in  xii.  20,  seq.  took  pUice  after  Christ's 
 entry,  on  the  siime  cLay,  and  if  Christ  retired  from  the  public  immediately 
 after  his  last  warning  to  the  Jews.  On  this  .supposition  time  could  not 
 have  been  afforded  for  the  transactions  we  have  already  introduced  In  this 
 interval  from  the  synoptical  Gospels.  But  it  is  evident  from  John's  own 
 narrative  that  Christ  found  many  followers  just  after  his  entry,  and  that 
 
SUBMISSION  TO  THE  DIVINE  WILL.  415 
 
 they  heard  found  a  point  of  contact  in  their  awakened  religioas 
 longings.  Not  ventiuing  to  addi'ess  him  personally,  they 
 sought  the  mediation  of  one  of  his  disciples.^  Seeing  in  these 
 individual  cases  a  prefigiuing  of  the  great  results,  in  the  moral 
 regeneration  of  mankind  and  the  diifusion  of  the  kingdom  of 
 God,  that  were  to  flow  from  his  o-wn  sufferings,  he  said,  "  Tlte 
 Jumr  is  come  that  the  Son  of  Man  should  be  glm'ified."  (The 
 man  Jesus,  exalted  to  glory  in  heaven  by  his  sufferings ;  the 
 glorified  one,  who  was  to  reveal  liimself  in  his  influences  ui)on 
 mankind;  especially  in  the  invisible  workings  of  his  Divine 
 power  for  the  spread  of  the  Divine  kingdom.)  The  necessity 
 of  his  death  is  next  set  forth.  The  seed-corn  "  abideth  alone  " 
 imless  it  is  thrown  into  the  earth ;  but  when  it  dies,  it  brings 
 foi-th  fmit :  so  the  Divine  life,  so  long  as  Jesus  remained  upon 
 earth  in  personal  form,  was  confined  to  himself;  but  when  the 
 earthly  shell  was  cast  off,  the  way  was  open  for  the  diffusion 
 of  the  Di\T.iie  life  among  all  mankind.  As  yet  the  disciples 
 themselves  were  wholly  dependent  upon  his  personal  appear- 
 ance :  and,  therefore,  he  said  that  He  alone,  as  the  Son  of 
 Man,  was  yet  in  possession  of  this  Di\dne  life.  And  as  He 
 was  to  be  glorified  through  sufferings,  so  he  told  his  disciples 
 that  the  happiness  and  glory  destined  for  them  was  to  be 
 secm-ed  only  by  self-denial.  "  JHe  that  loveth  his  life  (makes  the 
 earthly  life  liis  chief  good)  shall  lose  it  (the  true  Ui'e) ;  but  he 
 t/utt  hateth  his  life  in  this  tvorld  (i.  e.  deems  it  valueless  in 
 comparison  -with  the  interests  of  His  kingdom),  shall  keep  it 
 unto  life  eternal." 
 
 this  led  even  his  enemies  to  be  cautious.  It  may  be  inferred,  therefore, 
 that  Clirist  made  use  of  the  great  impression  produced  by  his  appearance, 
 and  did  not  immediately  withdraw  himself.  Tlie  chasm  in  John  is  well 
 filled  by  the  other  Gospels,  and  with  matter  precisely  suited  to  the  time. 
 John's  main  object  was  to  give  (as  he  alone  could)  the  last  discoui-ses  of 
 Jesus  with  his  disciples  ;  and  for  this  reason,  probably,  he  omitted  several 
 features  of  Christ's  public  labours.  Two  hj^iotheses  are  possible  :  (1) 
 Christ's  conversation  with  the  Greeks  took  place  several  days  after  his 
 entry,  and  just  before  the  end  of  his  public  labours  ;  thereby  leaving  ample 
 space  for  the  transactions  recorded  in  the  synoptical  Gospels  ;  (2)  or  it 
 took  place  on  the  day  of  his  entry,  and  was  occasioned  by  the  sensation 
 produced  by  that  event ;  leaving  a  few  days  before  his  retirement,  in  which 
 interval  the  events  recorded  in  the  synoptical  Gospels  occurred.  Tliese 
 John  did  not  mention  ;  but  after  giving  a  brief  summary  of  Christ's  final 
 warning  to  the  Jews,  hastened  on  to  his  last  discourses  with  the  disciples. 
 *  Philip  does  not  take  at  once  the  bold  step  of  presenting  the  heathen  to 
 Christ :  he  tells  Andrew,  and  then  both  together  tell  Jesus.  Thus  natu- 
 rally does  John  relate  it. 
 
416  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 §  261. — Christ's  Stfur/yhs  of  S(ml,  and  Submission  to  the  Divine  Will. — 
 The  Voirt  from  Heaven.     (John  xii.  27-29.) 
 
 At  the  same  time  that  the  great  creation  to  proceed  from 
 his  snflferings  wa.s  expanding  before  his  e3-es,  the  struggles  of 
 soul  to  which  we  have  before  aUuded  wei'e  renewed  within 
 him.  The  life  of  God  in  him  did  not  exclude  the  upri.sing  of 
 human  feelings,  in  \ie\v  of  the  sufferings  and  death  that  lay 
 before  him,  but  only  kept  them  in  their  proper  limits.  Not 
 by  imhumaniziiig  himself,  but  by  subordinating  the  human  to 
 the  Di\-ine,  was  he  to  realize  the  ideal  of  pure  human  virtue ; 
 he  was  to  be  a  jierfect  example  for  men,  even  in  the  struggles 
 of  human  weakness. 
 
 "  Xow  is  my  soul  troubled  l''  But,  sorely  as  the  terrors  of 
 his  dying  struggle  pressed  upon  him,  they  could  not  .shake  his 
 wnll,  strong  in  God,  or  disturb  the  steadfiist  calmness  of  his 
 mind.  He  does  not,  in  obedience  to  the  voice  of  nature,  pray 
 to  be  exempted  from  the  dpng  hour :  "  I  cannot  say,  "■FutJier, 
 save  me  from  this  hour;  for  tliis  cause  have  I  been  brought  to 
 this  hour,  not  to  escape,  but  to  suffer  it"''  In  fidl  conscious- 
 ness he  had  looked  forward  to  it  from  the  beginning,  as 
 essential  to  the  fulfilment  of  his  work.  Therefore  all  his 
 feelings  and  wishes  are  concentrated  upon  the  one  central  aim 
 of  his  whole  Hfe,  that  God  may  be  glorified  in  mankind  by  his 
 .sufferings:  ^^ Fatlier,  (jlorifij  thy  navic  !" 
 
 As  he  uttered  this  fervent  i)rayer,  the  veiy  breatliing  of 
 \in,selfish  holiness,  there  came  a  voice  •=  from  heaven,  heard  by 
 
 ^  John  xii.  27.     Cf.  KLi)io,  Stud.  u.  Krit.  18.36,  iii.  676. 
 
 '  Some  interpret  thi.s  account  as  a  mythus,  founded  upon  the  Jewish 
 idea  of  tlie  Bath-Col.  But  the  difficulties  in  the  account  arc  not  of  a 
 nature  to  justify  this  \'iew,  or  to  impeach  tlie  veracity  of  the  narrator.  On 
 the  contrary,  the  very  point  on  which  the  mythical  theory  seizes,  viz.  tliat 
 in  this  case  a  natural  phenomenon  conveyed  a  special  import  to  the 
 relit^ious  consciousness,  and  the  very  difficulty  itself  of  definii>.if  the  rel.ation 
 Ijetween  the  subjective  and  the  objective,  tend  to  confirm  the  narrative  a.s 
 a  statement  of  fiiot.  Would  the  wTiter  have  said  that  the  multitude  heard 
 only  the  thunder,  and  not  the  words,  if  he  meant  to  descril>e  a  voice 
 Hoimding  in  majesty  amid  the  thunder,  or  a  voice  soundinjr  with  a 
 noise  like  thunder?  Certainly  he  would  have  represented  it  a.s  lieard  by 
 tUl,  and  thus  have  avoided  the  possiVile  interpretation  that  the  whole  plie- 
 nomenon  was  merely  subjective.  Only  on  the  supposition  that  it  was  a 
 real  fact,  rebited  by  an  eye-witness,  can  we  account  for  the  clear  distinction 
 iMc'ule  by  the  writer  between  his  own  experience  in  tlie  case  .and  that  of 
 otliers,  difficult  as  it  may  be  for  us  to  discover  the  common  ground  of  these 
 tijverse  e.xperiences. 
 
 It  is  supposed  by  some  that  the  Bath-Col  was  nothing  else  but  a  sub- 
 jective interpretation  of  the  Divine  voice  in  tlmnder,  considered  as  an 
 
 ^\ 
 
THE  VOICE  FROM  HEA VEX.  417 
 
 the  believing  souls  who  stood  by  as  witnesses,  saying,  "  /  Jutve 
 both  glorijicd  my  name  in  thee,  and  will  continue  to  glorify  it." 
 All  his  previous  life,  in  which  human  nature  had  been  made 
 the  organ  of  the  perfect  manifestation  of  God  in  the  glory  of 
 His  holy  law,  had  glorified  the  name  of  God;  and  now  his 
 sufferings,  and  their  results,  were  more  and  more  to  glorily 
 that  Name,  in  the  establishment  of  his  kingdom  among  men. 
 The  Saviour  himself,  however,  needed  no  assurance*^  that  his 
 prayer  was  accepted:  '■'■  litis  voice  came  not  because  of  me,  but 
 far  your  sakes^ 
 
 He  interpreted  the  voice,  and  showed  them  hovo  God  was  to 
 be  glorified  in  him:  '■'■Now  is  the  judgment  of  this  warld;  now 
 shall  the  prince  of  this  world  be  cast  out.  And  I,  if  I  am  lified 
 tip  from  the  earth,  will  draw  all  men  ttnto  me."     His  sufterings 
 
 omen  or  Divnne  sign  of  answer  to  prayer.  Even  if  this  tlieory  be  correct, 
 it  is  clear  that  John  did  not  mean  to  record  sucli  an  omen  and  interpre- 
 tation ;  he  really  heard  the  words,  and  the  natural  phenomenon  must  liave 
 only  been  a  connecting  link  for  the  actual  apprehension  in  bis  religious 
 consciousness.  The  matter  would  have  to  be  thus  conceived  :  The  im- 
 pression made  upon  John  by  Christ's  words,  and  the  natural  phenomena 
 that  attended  them,  conepired  so  to  affect  the  susceptible  by-standers, 
 that  the  word  of  God  within  them  re-echoed  the  words  of  Christ.  Tliey 
 were  assured  that  His  prayer  was  answered  ;  receiving,  in  fact,  the  same 
 impression  as  that  reported  in  the  narrative,  though  in  a  different  form. 
 And,  as  the  natural  phenomenon  coincided  with  the  inward  ojjeration  of 
 the  Divine  Spirit — a  woril  from  the  Omnipresent  God,  who  works  alike  in 
 nature  and  in  spirit — so  Christ,  who  knew  that  His  work  was  the  Father's, 
 and  always  recognized  God's  omnipresent  working,  both  in  nature  and  in 
 the  hearts  of  men,  .\llowed  it  to  be  interpreted  as  a  voice  from  Heaven. 
 
 But  the  conception  of  the  Bath-Col,  on  which  this  whole  interpretation 
 is  founded,  cannot  be  sustained.  In  the  Rabbinical  passages  collected  by 
 Mtunchat  and  Vilringa  there  are  no  traces  of  it :  they  interpret  the  Bath- 
 Col  as  a  real  voice,  accompanied  by  thunder.  In  the  Old  Testament, 
 thunder  often  appears  as  a  ifcgn,  indeed,  but  as  a  sign  of  God's  anger  or 
 majesty,  not  of  his  grace.  Still  there  are  difficulties  in  the  way  of  sup- 
 posing that  in  the  case  before  us  this  voice  was  audible  simply  to  the  satMt. 
 In  every  place  in  the  New  Testament  in  which  such  a  voice  is  mentioned, 
 it  can  be  traced  back  to  an  inward  fact ;  and,  in  the  case  in  question,  the 
 voice  was  heard  only  by  a  part,  the  susceptible  minds.  The  hearing,  then, 
 depended  upon  the  spiritual  condition  of  the  hearer. 
 
 Two  points  are  clearly  obvious  :  (1)  there  was  thunder,  and  this  alone 
 was  heard  by  the  unsusceptible  multitude  ;  (2)  there  was  a  voice  from  God, 
 heard  by  the  susceptible  ;  anil  these  last,  again,  lost  to  outward  and  sen- 
 sible  impressions,  did  not  hear  the  thunder. 
 
 In  my  view  of  this  event,  I  agree  for  the  most  part  (and  gladly)  with 
 my  worthy  friend  KiiiKj;  and  I  agree  with  him,  also,  that  it  is  better  to 
 .acknowledge  the  existence  of  inexplicable  difficulties,  than  to  twist  the 
 text  and  historj',  in  order  to  carry  out  some  theory  which  may  suit  our 
 jowa  notions  (Stud.  u.  Krit.  loc.  cit.  tijo",  677).  "  Cf.  p  377 
 
 2e 
 
418  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 are  liis  triumpb.  He  finishes  his  work  in  them ;  and  they 
 form  the  sentence  of  condemnation  to  the  tmgodly  world.  The 
 baselessness  of  Satan's  kingdom  is  laid  bare.  The  E^il  One  is 
 ca.st  dovnx  from  his  throne  among  men.  And  Christ's  triumph 
 will  still  go  forward ;  the  power  of  evil  will  be  more  and  moi-e 
 diminished ;  and  the  Glorified  One  will  not  only  free  his  fol- 
 lowers from  that  evil  power,  but  "v\t11  exalt  them  to  communion 
 with  himself  in  heaven. 
 
 §  262. — Christ  closes  his  Public  Ministry. — Final  Words  of  Wai-ning  to 
 the  Multitude. 
 
 The  public  ministry  of  Jesus  was  closed  with  these  warning 
 words  addressed  to  the  assembled  multitude :  "  Tet  a  little  while 
 is  the  light  toith  you;  walk  while  ye  lutve  the  light  (receive  it  by 
 faith,  and  become,  by  communion  with  it,  childi'en  of  the  light), 
 lest  darkness  come  upon  you  (lest,  lo.st  in  dai"knes.s,  ye  hasten 
 headlong  to  your  owti  destruction) ;  for  he  tJiat  walketh  in  dark- 
 tiess  knowetlb  not  whither  he  goeth." 
 
 §  263. — Machinations  of  Christ's  Enemies. 
 
 The  few  hours  that  intervened  between  the  end  of  Christ's 
 public  ministry  and  his  ai-rest  were  devoted  to  instructing  and 
 comforting  his  disciples  in  view  of  his  approaching  departure, 
 and  the  severe  conflicts  they  were  to  undergo.  In  these  con- 
 versations he  displayed  all  his  heavenly  love  and  calmness  of 
 soul;  his  loftiness  and  his  humility.  In  order  that  oui-  con- 
 templation of  these  sweet  scenes  may  not  be  interrupted,  we 
 shall,  before  entering  upon  them,  glance  at  the  machinations 
 of  his  enemies  which  brought  about  his  capture  and  his  death. 
 
 As  we  have  seen,  the  Sanliedrim  had  resolved  upon  his 
 death ;  all  that  remained  was  to  decide  how  and  when  it  should 
 be  brought  about.  The  time  of  the  feast  itself  woiUd  have 
 been  unpropitious  for  the  attempt;^  it  must  be  made,  there- 
 
 '  Matt.  xxvi.  5,  implies  that  Jesus  was  arrested  Iff  ore  the  commence- 
 ment of  the  Jewish  Passover.  I  do  not  see  the  justice  of  Wcisse's  (i.  444) 
 assertion,  that  this  view  of  the  passage  is  opposed  to  its  natural  sense. 
 Tlie  passage  certainly  implies  (what  is  most  important  for  my  purpose) 
 that  he  was  nut  apprehended  on  the  feast-day;  whether  before  or  after  is 
 left  undecided.  But  this  information  is  not  sufficient  to  show  an  inaccuracy 
 in  the  chronology  of  the  first  three  Gospels.  For  we  might  suppose  that 
 the  Sanhedi-im  were  led,  by  the  opportunity  afibrded  by  the  treachery  of 
 Judas,  to  seize  Jesais  quietly  at  night,  abandoning  their  original  design. 
 It  would  therefore  follow,  at  any  rate,  that  they  had  not  decitlcd  to  effect 
 their  purpose  during  the  feast ;  and  they  may  have  made  up  their  minds 
 to  wait  until  its  close,  when  the  unexpected  proposition  of  Judas  led  them 
 to  attempt  it  during  the  feast.     But  it  is  not  probable  that  they  would 
 
MOTIVES  OF  JUDAS.  419" 
 
 fore,  either  before  or  after.  The  former  was  the  safest,  and 
 therefore  the  favourite  plan.  An  unexpected  and  most  fa- 
 vourable opening  was  afforded,  by  the  proposition  of  Judas 
 Iscanot,  to  deliver  liim  into  their  hands. *^ 
 
 §  264. — Tlie  Motives  of  Judas  in  hetmying  Jesus. 
 It  is  difficidt  to  decide  upon  the  motives  that  impelled  Judas 
 to  the  outrage  which  he  perpetr'ated.  How  could  one  that 
 had  dady  enjoyed  the  influences  of  Chiist's  Divine  life,  had 
 been  a  ^sdtness  of  liis  mighty  works,  and  received  so  many 
 proofs  of  his  love,  have  been  di-iven  to  such  a  fatal  step?  It 
 cannot  be  supposed,  as  we  have  before  remarked,^  that  he  ori- 
 ginally attaclaed  himself  to  Jesus  for  the  purpose  of  betraying 
 him;  it  rather  appeal's  that  his  motives  were  at  first  as  pure 
 as  those  of  the  rest  of  the  disciples.  Had  not  Christ  seen  in 
 him  capacities  which,  with  proper  cultivation,  might  have  made 
 him  an  efficient  Apostle,  he  would  not  have  received  him  into 
 his  nai'rower  circle  on  the  same  footing  with  the  others,  and 
 sent  him  out  along  -with  them  on  the  first  trial  mission.''  Nor 
 does  this  view  deny  either  that  the  e\al  germ  which,  when  fully 
 developed,  led  him  to  his  gi-eat  crime,  lay  in  liis  heai-t  at  the 
 time;  or  that  Christ  saw  the  evU  as  well  as  the  good.'     But 
 
 allow  Christ,  unmolested,  to  make  use  of  the  time  of  the  feast  to  increase 
 his  followers  among  the  multitude.  We  shall  see  hereafter  that  there  are 
 strong  objections  to  the  opinion  that  Christ  was  crucified  on  the  first  day 
 of  the  feast ;  and  these,  if  valid,  will  confirm  our  supposition  that  he  was 
 arrested  on  the  day  before  its  commencement.     Cf.  Oforer,  iii.  198. 
 
 f  Matt.  xxvi.  14-16  ;  Mark  xiv.  10,  11  ;  Luke  xxii.  3-6.  These  pas- 
 sages agree  in  showing  that  Judas  made  his  bargain  with  the  Sanhedrim 
 before  tlie  night  on  which  he  consununated  his  treachery.  It  might  be 
 inferred  fi-om  John  xiii.  26,  that  he  only  imbibed  the  Satanic  thought  on 
 rising  from  the  Last  Supper  ;  but  how  coidd  he  liave  negotiated  with  the 
 Sanhedrim  so  late  in  the  night,  and  just  before  the  fatal  act  ?  John  him- 
 self says  (xiii.  2)  that  the  devil  had  before  put  it  in  his  heart  to  do  it.  We 
 conclude,  therefore,  that  v.  26  refers  to  the  last  step — the  execution  of  his 
 evil  purpose  ;  and  this  agrees  very  well  \vith  the  supposition  that  he  had 
 previously  arranged  all  the  preliminaries.  A  favourable  moment  only  was 
 wanting ;  and  this  he  found  during  that  last  interview  with  Jesus. 
 
 e  Cf  p.  124.  i*  Cf.  p.  280,  seq. 
 
 '  John  vi.  64,  teaches  that  Jesus  knew  at  once  the  motives  of  all  that 
 attached  themselves  to  him.  No  mock  faith,  founded  on  carnal  incli- 
 nations, could  deceive  him,  and  theref 're  he  knew  at  once  the  spiritual 
 character  of  the  one  that  should  betray  him.  The  passage  does  not  neces- 
 sarily imply  that  he  marked  at  first  the  ■person  of  the  traitor ;  but  only 
 that  he  noticed  in  Judas,  from  the  very  beginning,  the  disposition  of  heart 
 that  finally  led  him  to  become  a  traitor.  But  it  need  not  appear  strange 
 to  us  if  John,  after  so  many  proofs  of  the  superhuman  prescience  of  Jesus, 
 attributed  to  the  indefinite  intimations  of  Christ,  given  by  him  to  Judaa 
 
 2e2 
 
420  CHKIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 the  Saviour  may  have  hoped  to  make  the  latter  preponderate 
 over  the  former. 
 
 Amoug  the  possible  motives  for  the  crime  of  Judas  are, 
 (1.)  His  alleged  avarice ;  (2.)  Je\vish  views  of  Chriist's  Messiah- 
 ship  on  his  part;  and  (3.)  A  gi-adual  growth  of  hostile  feelings 
 in  his  heart.     These  we  shall  now  examine  in  order. 
 
 Was  Judas  impelled  by  avarice  ? 
 
 There  are  certain  intimations  in  the  Evangelists  that  appear, 
 to  favour  the  hypothesis  that  avarice  was  his  leading  motive. 
 In  John  xii.  6,  this  vice  is  ascribed  to  him,  and  he  is  charged 
 with  embezzling  money  from  the  common  pui'se,  committed  to 
 his  charge  as  treasurer.  Moreover,  according  to  the  synoptical 
 Gospels,  he  bargained  for  a  certain  sum  of  money,  as  the  price 
 of  his  treachery.  It  might  be  inferred,  therefore,  that  a  love 
 of  money,  which  sought  to  gratify  itself  by  any  means,  even 
 by  the  violation  of  a  sacred  trust,  grew  upon  him  to  such  an 
 extent  as  finally  to  induce  the  commission  of  his  awfiil  crime. 
 
 But  there  are  many  and  strong  objections  to  this  view  of 
 the  case.  If  Judas's  avarice  were  so  intense,  it  is  difficult  to 
 conceive  how  Christ,  whose  piercing  glance  penetrated  the 
 recesses  of  men's  hearts,  could  have  received  him  into  the 
 number  of  the  disciples.  Could  He,  Avho  knew  so  well  how  to 
 adapt  the  special  duties  which  he  assigned  his  followers  to  their 
 individual  peculiarities,  have  allowed  precisely  this  most  arrt- 
 ricimis  disciple  to  keep  charge  of  the  common  piu:se?  And, 
 had  he  attributed  Judas's  reproof  of  MaryJ  (John  xii.  5)  to 
 this  motive,  would  he  not  have  noticed  it  in  his  reply  ^"^  It 
 must  be  remembered,  John's  explanation  (v.  6)  was  added  after 
 Judas  was  kno^\^l  to  have  bargained  to  betray  his  Master  for 
 money.  Had  such  an  accusation  been  made  at  an  eai-her 
 period,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  removed  from  the 
 treasurership.  In  all  Christ's  allusions  to  the  character  of 
 Judas  that  have  come  down  to  us,  there  is  not  the  sliglitest 
 indication  that  He  thought  it  necessary  to  warn  him  against 
 this  sin.  There  may,  indeed,  have  been  indications  in  John's 
 memoiy  which  he  believed  to  afford  sufficient  ground  for  such 
 a  charge  1^  and,  after  attributmg  the  treachery  of  Judas  in 
 in  order  to  make  him  know  himsc'f,  more  than  was  really  expressed  by 
 them  at  the  time. 
 
 J  Cf.  p.  387. 
 
 '^  Dr.  O.  Sckollmci/ci:  a  young  but  promising  theologian,  remarks  this  in 
 his  "Jesus  and  Judai?,"  Liineberg,  18.30. 
 
 '  Slraitss  (iii.  422,  a"  Aufl.)  thinks  this  is  inconsistent  with  my  funda- 
 
THE  MOTIVES  OF  JUDAS.  421 
 
 betraying  Christ  to  avaiice,  he  might  liave  been  led  to  look  for 
 traces  of  the  same  \'ice  in  his  previous  management  of  the 
 common  funds. 
 
 Again,  it  is  difficult  to  understand,  if  the  crime  was  com- 
 mitted for  the  sake  of  money  alone,  how  so  small  a  sum  as 
 tJdrty  shekels'^  could  have  .satisfied  the  traitor.*^  Would  not 
 the  Sanhedrim,  in  \'iew  of  the  importance  of  getting  hold  of 
 Jesus  quietly,  before  the  feast  began,  freely  have  given  Judas 
 more  if  he  had  asked  it?  True,  that  body  may  have  relied 
 upon  the  surety  of  seizing  him  in  some  way,  and  upon  the  im- 
 pression, gathered  from  his  charactei',  that  he  would  cause  no 
 rescue  to  be  attempted ;  and,  therefore,  so  far  as  their  offer  is 
 concerned,  thirty  pieces  is  likely  enough. 
 
 mental  principle,  since  I  acknowledge  the  Ajwslle  John  as  the  author  of 
 this  Gospel ;  just  as  if  I  accused  the  Apostle  of  a  groundless  slander.  The 
 black  deed  of  Judas  justified  John  in  ascribing  this  vice  to  him,  as  many 
 of  his  recollections  seemed  to  indicate  it.  He  certainly  could  not  be 
 expected  to  exercise  a  cool  impartiality  towards  the  traitor.  In  the  mean- 
 time, I  think  I  am  justified  in  saying  that  John's  allusions  are  not  to  be 
 taken  unconditioncdhi  as  proof.  But  the  single  trait  of  avarice  suits  well 
 the  general  character  of  Judas,  in  whom  earthly  aims  were  all-controlling. 
 
 ■"  Between  25  and  26  rix  dollars.  Twenty  shekels  =120  denarii,  and 
 one  denarius  was  at  that  time  the  ordinary  wages  for  a  day's  labour 
 (Matt.  XX.  2);  so  that  the  whole  sum  amounted  to  about  four  months' 
 wages  of  a  day-labourer.  (Cf.  Paulm  on  Matt.  xxvi.  ]  6.)  Thirty  shekels, 
 it  is  to  be  noticed,  was  the  value  set  upon  a  single  slave,  according  to 
 Exod.  x.xi.  32. 
 
 "  It  is  questioned,  with  some  plausibility,  by  Strauss  and  De  Wette, 
 whether  the  precise  sum,  thirty  sJtcL'els,  is  correctly  given.  Their  argu- 
 ments are  that  Matthew  alone  mentions  it  (xxvi.  15),  while  in  Mark  and 
 Luke  only  the  general  term  apyvpiov  is  given  ;  and  that  the  tendency  of 
 Matthew  to  find  types  of  Christ's  history  in  the  Old  Testament  induced 
 him  to  fix  this  precise  .sum,  in  view  of  Zech.  xi.  12  (cf.  Matt,  xxvii.  9). 
 
 Without  making  any  positive  assertion,  we  must  observe  on  this  (1)  that, 
 although  Mark  and  Luke  do  not  expressly  mention  the  small  sum,  they 
 would  not  have  used  the  indefinite  term  apyvpiof,  if  the  sum  had  been 
 ■  known  to  be  large  ;  (2)  although  there  is  a  discrepancy  between  Matt, 
 xxvii.  7,  and  Acts  i.  18,  yet  this  discrepancy  seems  to  presujipose  that  the 
 money  was  just  sufficient  to  purchase  a  field,  which  certainly  could  not 
 have  required  a  larr/e  sum ;  (3)  the  passage  in  the  Old  Testament  ahnf 
 would  not  have  been  enough  to  induce  the  assignment  of  so  small  a  sum, 
 in  the  face  of  the  probability,  on  the  other  side,  that  the  Sanhedrim  would 
 give  a  large  amount  to  secure  so  important  an  end  ;  (4)  it  could  not  have 
 been  invented  to  blacken  the  character  of  Judas  still  further:  his  deed 
 must  have  been  black  enough  at  any  price ;  (5)  there  is  no  great  improba- 
 bility in  the  Sanhedrim's  offering  so  small  a  reward :  people  of  this  stamp 
 would  give  Judas  no  more  than  the  lowest  possible  price  for  which  he 
 would  do  the  deed ;  and  their  fanatical  hatred  of  Christ  may  have  led  them 
 to  offer  exactly  the  price  of  a  slave,  in  order  to  degrade  the  character  of 
 Jesus. 
 
422  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALE3I. 
 
 On  the  whole,  then,  we  condude  that  to  gain  so  small  a  simi 
 of  money  could  not  have  been  Judas's  chief  motive.  And, 
 even  had  the  sum  been  a  large  one,  it  remains  almost  impos- 
 sible to  conceive  that  avaiice  alone  could  lead  him  to  deliver 
 Jesus  over  to  his  foes,  if  he  really  were  impressed  -with  a  sense 
 of  his  Divinity  and  Messiahship.  It  must  be  presupposed  that 
 he  had  stood  for  some  time  in  a  spmtual  relation  to  Christ 
 different  from  that  of  the  other  Apostles ;  and  when  tliis  is 
 once  admitted,  avarice  is  a  superfluous  motive. 
 
 (2.) 
 
 "Was  Judas  impelled  by  Jewish  views  of  Christ's  Messiah- 
 ship? 
 
 Did  Judas  foresee  and  intend  to  bring  about  the  result 
 which  followed  Christ's  arrest  ?  The  answer  to  this  question 
 will  obviously  go  a  great  way  in  fixing  our  opinion  of  liis 
 character  and  motives.  It  is  connected  with  another,  \\z.  in 
 what  way  did  the  traitor  himself  die?  If,  according  to  Mat- 
 thew's account,  he  committed  suicide  immediately  after  Christ's 
 condemnation,  we  might  infer  that  he  did  vx)t  intend  this 
 result,  and  was  thrown  into  despair  by  it. 
 
 Tliis  inference  has  led  some  to  the  opinion  °  that  Judas 
 expected  Christ's  arrest  only  to  bring  about  the  triimaph  of  his 
 cause  by  compelling  Mm  to  establish  liis  visible  Messianic 
 kingdom.  If  this  wei'e  the  case,  the  traitor  must  have  ex- 
 pected either  (1)  that  the  enthusiastic  midtitude  would  rescue 
 Christ  by  force  and  make  him  king;  or  (2)  that  Christ  liimseLf, 
 by  an  exertion  of  his  miraculous  power,  would  overthrow  his 
 foes  and  establish  his  kingdom.  But  the  first  is  utterly  un- 
 tenable ;  little  as  Judas  may  have  known  of  Christ's  spirit,  he 
 must  have  known  that  He  would  not  make  use  of  worldly 
 power  to  accomplish  his  purposes;  nor  could  he  himself  have 
 supposed  such  power  to  be  needed,  if  (according  to  the  hypo- 
 thesis) he  acknowledged  Jesus  as  Messiah. 
 
 The  secoTid  view  may  be  more  fully  stated  thus :  Holding 
 the  same  Messianic  expectations  as  the  other  Ajiostles,  he  only 
 gave  way  more  enth-ely  to  a  wilful  impatience ;  Christ  delayed 
 too  long  for  him ;  he  planned  the  arrest  to  hasten  his  decision, 
 surely  expecting  a  display  of  his  mu-aculous  power,  and  the 
 establishment  of  his  visible  kingdom.  Terrible  was  his  con- 
 sternation when  he  saw  the  Saviour,  whom  he  loved,  condemned 
 to  death!  Not,  however,  that  his  act  is  in  the  slightest  degi-ee 
 justified.  It  was  sinful  -svilfulncss  to  seek  to  control  tlie 
 °  See,  especially,  Schollmeycr's  Treatise,  above  cited. 
 
THE  MOTIVES  OF  JUDAS.  423 
 
 actions  of  Him  wLose  wise  guidance,  as  Lord  and  Master,  lie 
 ouglit  to  have  followed  in  all  things.  He  sacrificed  all  other 
 considerations  to  his  own  arbitrai-ily-conceived  idea,  and  acted 
 upon  that  vile  principle  which  has  given  bu'th  to  the  most 
 destructive  deeds  recorded  in  liistory — that  the  end  sanctifies 
 the  means.  Still  his  decision  of  character  and  energy  of  will, 
 if  sacrificed  in  obedience  to  Christ's  spirit,  would  have  made 
 him  a  most  efficient  agent  in  j^ropagating  the  Gospel,  and  prove 
 that  Christ  had  good  reasons  for  receiving  him  into  the  number 
 of  the  Apostles. 
 
 Such  is  the  second  hypothesis.  But  if  Judas  acted  on  such, 
 principles,  would  Jesus  have  abandoned  him  to  his  delusion, 
 and  allowed  liim  to  rush  bhndly  on  destruction?  The  autho- 
 rity of  Christ  as  Propliet  and  Messiah  (and,  according  to  the 
 hypothesis,  Judas  recognized  him  as  such)  could  easily  have 
 removed  the  scales  from  the  eyes  of  the  deluded  Apostle. 
 Could  the  Saviour  possibly  have  uttered  a  word  at  the  Last 
 Supper  (John  xiii.  27)  that  might  be  interpreted  into  an 
 approval  of  his  undertaking? 
 
 The  hypothesis,  then,  must  at  least  be  modified  into  the 
 view  that  Judas's  faith  wavered  because  Christ  was  making  no 
 p)reparations  for  a  visible  kingdom;  the  result  alone  could 
 solve  his  doubts;  and  therefore  he  brought  about  the  arrest, 
 reasoning  on  this  wise:  "If  Jesus  is  really  Messiah,  no  power 
 of  the  world  can  harm  liim,  and  all  opposition  will  only  serve 
 to  glorify  him ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  he  succumbs,  it  must  be 
 taken  as  a  judgment  of  God  against  liim."  His  subsequent 
 repentance  is  not  inconsistent  with  this  view;  his  conclusions 
 after  the  result,  when,  perhaps,  the  full  power  of  Christ's 
 image  stood  before  him,  may  have  been  very  diflferent  from 
 what  he  had  expected.  As  a  general  thing,  the  impressions 
 made  upon  a  man  by  the  results  of  Ms  actions  testify  but  little 
 as  to  the  character  of  his  motives ;  none  can  tell  how  an  evil 
 deed,  even  when  deliberately  planned  and  perpetrated,  will 
 react  upon  the  conscience. 
 
 (.3.) 
 
 Was  Judas  impelled  by  a  gi-adually  developed  hostility? 
 
 The  mode  of  Judas'  death,?  as  we  have  seen,  is  not  sufficient 
 
 1"  Matthew's  account  of  the  deatii  of  Judas  stands  in  (at  least)  partial 
 contradiction  to  Acts  i.  18,  which  states  that  Judas  bouglit  a  field  with 
 the  money,  and  met  his  death  by  falling  irom  a  height.  Tliis  may,  indeed, 
 possibly  mean  suicide  ;  but  it  is  doubtful.  The  wild  and  fabulous  narra- 
 tive of  Papkis  (first  published  by  Cramer,  Catena  in  Acta  S.  Apost.  Oxon. 
 1838,  p.  12)  presupposes  that  Judas  did  not  die  by  his  own  hand.     "  Miya 
 
424  CHRIST  AT  JERUSALEM. 
 
 to  prove  that  liis  purpose  in  delivering  Christ  to  the  Sauhe- 
 clrim  was  not  a  decidedly  hostile  one. 
 
 The  final  \iew  before  mentioned  may  be  stated  thus :  The 
 first  feelings  of  Judas,  in  attaching  himself  to  Christ,  were  the 
 same  as  those  of  the  other  Apostles.  He  had  a  practical  and 
 administrati\  e  talent,  which  caused  liim  to  be  made  treasurer ; 
 and  Avliich  may  have  been  usefully  employed  in  organizing  the 
 first  Christian  congi-egations.  But  the  element  of  carnal  sel- 
 fishness, although  it  aifected  the  other  Apostles  more  or  less, 
 was  in  him  deeply  rooted ;  the  Spirit  and  love  of  Christ  could 
 not  gain  the  same  power  over  him  as  over  the  other  more 
 sjiiritually-minded  disciples.  As  he  gradually  fomid  that  his 
 expectations  were  to  be  disappointed,  his  attachment  tm'ned 
 more  and  more  into  aversion,  ^\^len  the  manifestation  of 
 Christ  ceased  to  be  attractive,  it  became  repulsive;  and  more 
 and  more  so  every  day.  The  miracles  alone  could  not  revive 
 his  faith,  so  long  as  he  lacked  the  disposition  to  perceive 
 DiAanity  in  them.  If  Christ  showed  striking  proofs  of  Di%ine 
 poAver,  so,  also,  he  gave  evident  signs  of  human  weakness ;  and 
 the  sight  of  the  latter  could  easily  cause  an  estranged  heart  to 
 doubt  and  hesitate  in  regard  to  the  former.  A  man's  view- 
 even  of  facts  depends  upon  the  tendencies  of  his  mind  and 
 heai-t ;  these  necessaiily  give  their  own  hue  to  his  intequ-eta- 
 tions  even  of  what  his  eyes  behold.i    Nor  do  we  know  how  far 
 
 0£  affi£tiac  virootiyfia  tv  Tovri/j  r(p  K6<yfii{J  TTipmrarrjatv  6  'lovcar-  Trpi]u- 
 Gt'iQ  tTTiToaovTOv  Ti'jv  aaoKa,  (linrt  i^TjCk  ottoOiv  cijia^a  Ctir)\(Tai  paciuiQ 
 eKtivov  CvvaTOai  CuXOhv  dWd  fitjCk  avrbv  fiovov  rbv  ri/c  Ki^aXfiq 
 oyKov  avrov'  tu  fxti'  yap  ^\i(papa  tCjv  6(p9a\fiijv  aiiroii  (jtaai  roaovrov 
 i^oiSiicfai,  tjg  avrbv  fiti'  xaOoXov  rb  <pwQ  fit)  jiX'tTruv  rovq  bip9a\fiovQ  ck 
 avrov  fufci  vtto  iarpov  lioizTpaq  bipOTtvai  ci'vandai'  roaovrov  fSaOoq 
 iJ^ov  cnrb  Tijg  tK<^9(v  iTri^ovfiac'  ''o  ^k  alcoiov  avrov  Trdarjg  fiiv  da-)(i)- 
 fiocTvvtjQ  arjlkffripov  icai  /iH^ov  (paivtaQar  (ptoKrOni  ck  ci'  avrov  ik  iravroQ 
 Tov  (Tw/iaroQ  avppiovrag  ixt'opaQ  re  Kui  <TKo)\r]Kac  «iV  I'^p'-i'  Ci'  avruiv 
 fiovov  rwv  avayKa'noV  j.itrd  ttoWciq  ck  /Saaai-oui;  rai  rijxojping,  jj'  iciift 
 ^a/ri  ^(opiip  rfXtvri}(Tavra'  Koi  rouro  dirb  rf/g  bcov  ipt^^iov  Ka'i  dntKrjrov 
 TO  ^^oipiov  /JfXP'  '''5c  vi'v  yti'knQac  dXX  ovok  fiixpi  riig  (ji)fiipov  cvvarjOai 
 Tiva  iKtivov  rbv  rbirov  irapiXduv ,  idv  fit)  rdr  plvuQ  ra'iq  \ipiTiv  tiri<ppdi.t)' 
 Toaavrr}  Cid  rj]c  aapKoc  avrov  (cai  nri  yi/c  KotTig  t\d)pria(v ."  It  is  easy  to 
 see  how  the  exjires-^ions  in  Acts  could  give  rise  to  this  extravagant  legend. 
 
 1  Tlie  following  i>rofound  thought  of  Pascal,  abundantly  verified  in 
 history,  may  he  ajjiplied  to  the  .scientific  treatment  of  the  Life  of  Christ, 
 and  to  those  who  boast  a  cold  impartiality  in  regard  to  it  :  '"  La  volontd 
 est  un  des  ])rincipaux  organes  de  la  crcance,  non  <iu'elle  fonne  l.i  creance, 
 mais  parce  que  les  chose.s  parai.-^sent  vrayes  ou  fau-ises,  selon  la  face,  par  oil 
 on  les  regarde.  La  volonte,  qui  se  plai.^t  a  I'une  plus  qu'a  I'autre, 
 detourne  I'esprit,  de  considerer  les  qualitez  de  celle,  qu'elle  n'aime  pas,  et 
 ainsi  I'esprit  marchant  d'une  jjiece  avec  la  volonte,  s'arreste  a  regarder  la 
 
DATE  OF  THE  SUPPER.  425 
 
 the  crafty  Pharisees  understood  Judas  and  tampered  ■with.  him. 
 It  was  just  at  the  time  of  the  sifting,  before  alluded  to/  among 
 the  masses  that  had  followed  Chi'ist,  that  the  spirit  of  enmity 
 seems  to  have  germinated  in  the  heart  of  Judas,  and  Christ 
 noticed  and  intimated  it  (John  vi.  70) ;  although  it  could  not, 
 all  at  once,  have  become  predominant  in  liim :  there  were, 
 doubtless,  inward  struggles  before  the  fatal  tendency  acquired 
 full  sway.^ 
 
 The  life  of  man  furnishes  many  analogies  that  may  help  to 
 clear  up  the  enigmatical  conduct  of  Judas.  He  who  does  not 
 follow  the  impulses  of  good  which  he  receives  from  Avitliin  and 
 without,  but  rather  gives  himself  up  to  the  selfish  propensities 
 which  those  impvJses  are  meant  to  counteract,  becomes  finally 
 and  irrecoverably  enslaved  to  them ;  all  things  that  ought  to 
 work  together  for  his  good  serve  for  his  harm;  the  healing 
 balm  becomes  for  him  a  poison.  This  is  the  severe  judgment 
 U])on  which  our  free  agency  is  conditioned ;  and  to  it  may  we 
 apply  the  saying  of  o\ir  Lord,  '•  From  him  that  hath  not  shall  be 
 taken  away  even  tlmt  which  he  hath." 
 
 CHAPTER  II. 
 
 THE  LAST  SUPPER  OF  JESUS  WITH  THE  DISCIPLES. 
 §  265. — Object  of  Chnst.  in  the  Last  Supjxr. 
 Jesus  looked  forward  without  fear,  nay,  wdth  confidence,  to 
 the  fate  that  awaited  him.  We  need  not  necessarily  presup- 
 pose that  he  was  sujieniaturally  informed  of  it ;  for  it  may  be 
 said  that  his  friends  in  the  Sanhedrim  (and  he  had  such)  in- 
 formed him  of  the  negotiations  of  Judas.  He  foresaw  that  he 
 would  have  to  leave  his  disciples  before  the  proper  Passover,' 
 
 face  qu'elle  aime,  et  en  jugeant  parce  qu'il  y  voit,  il  regie  insenslblement 
 sa  croance  suivant  I'inclination  de  la  volonte."  ■■  Pp.  293,  294. 
 
 ■*  We  do  not  wish  to  be  understood  as  attempting  a  full  explanation  of 
 the  conduct  of  Judas,  so  enigmatical  in  itself,  and  so  little  explained  by 
 the  accounts  that  are  left  to  us.  We  have  only  sought  to  present  the 
 theory  which  seems  to  us  most  probable  from  the  <iata  before  us. 
 
 '  I  presuppose,  with  Idder,  Liiclr,  Siefert,  De  Wette,  and  Bhck,  that  the 
 Last  Supper  was  held,  not  on  the  14th  Nisan,  the  holy  Passover  eve,  but 
 on  the  13th,  and  that  the  Friday  of  his  passion  M'as  that  holy  evening, 
 (a.)  A  candid  interpretation  of  John's  Gospel  confirms  this  supposition. 
 We  cannot  infer  much  from  xiii.  1,  2,  although  that  passage  seems  to 
 imidy  that  the  supj^er  occurred  before  the  beginning  of  the  feast.  But 
 xviii.  28,  tells  us  that  the  deputies  of  the  Sanhedrim  would  not  enter  the 
 Pr;L'torium  for  fear  of  defilement,  as  they  had  to  eat  the  Passover  on  that 
 evening.     The  words  'iva  yaywffi  rb  Trdfjxa  mvst  be  applied,  according 
 
426  THE  I^VST  SUPPEK. 
 
 and  determined  to  give  a  pecidiar  import  to  his  last  meal  Avith 
 them,  to  place  it  in  a  peculiar  relation  to  the  Jewish  Passover, 
 
 to  prevailing  usage,  both  among  Jews  and  Christians,  to  the  feast  of 
 Passover.  It  is  objected  that  this  care  was  needless,  as,  if  a  defilement 
 were  thus  incurred,  it  would  not,  on  account  of  the  QV  to^,  last  until  the 
 evening,  i.  e.  until  the  beginning  of  the  following  day  ;  but  this  is  easily 
 answered  ;  many  things  had  to  be  done  as  preparatory  to  the  feast,  which 
 would  trench  upon  both  days.  In  xix.  31,  the  day  of  the  crucifixion  is 
 treated  as  an  ordinary  Friday.  No  scruples  were  entertained  about  the 
 crticifixion  on  that  day,  but  only  about  leaving  the  bodies  on  the  cross  on 
 the  Sabbath,  which  was  a  fixed  feast-day.  But  how  could  the  Friday,  if  it 
 were  the  first  day  of  the  principal  feast,  be  treated  as  an  ordinary  Friday  ? 
 All  difficulties  are  removed  by  supposing  that  it  was  only  a  common 
 Friday,  and  that  the  next  day  was  at  once  the  Sabbath  and  the  first  day  of 
 the  Passover  feast.  Even  if  the  Sanhedrim  were  compelled  to  expedite  the 
 crucifixion  of  Christ,  and  were  impelled,  in  their  fanatical  hatred,  to  violate 
 the  sanctity  of  the  feast  by  it,  yet  is  it  likely  that  they  w^ould  have  waited 
 just  to  the  holiest  feast-day  for  the  crucifixion  of  the  malefactors,  or  that 
 the  pardon  of  a  condemned  criminal  (granted  by  the  Romans  in  honour  of 
 the  feast)  would  have  been  delayed  until  the  feast  had  begun  ?  But  the 
 haste  and  the  pardon  would  harmonize  well  w-ith  the  view  that  the  cruci- 
 fixion took  place  before  the  feast,  on  the  13thKisan.  (b.)  Lilcke  has  called 
 attention  to  two  passages  in  1  Corinthians,  though  without  deeming  them 
 perfectly  conclusive  (Getting.  Anzeig.):  (1.)  Tlie  first  pasf?age  is  1  Cor. 
 V.  7,  8,  in  which  Paul  seems  to  contrast  the  Christian  with  the  Jewish 
 Passover  as  held  at  the  .same  time  (Christ,  as  the  spiritual  Passover,  as 
 sacrificed  simultaneously  with  the  Jewish  Paschal  lamb;  (2.)  1  Cor.  xi.  23, 
 .speaks  indefinitely  of  the  night  of  Christ's  betrayal,  not  of  his  jjartaking  of 
 the  Passover,  (c.)  It  may,  perhaps,  be  the  case  that  in  Matt.  xxvi.  18, 
 the  writer  presupposed  that  Christ  really  partook  of  the  Passover  with  his 
 disciples  ;  but  may  not  the  passage  mean,  "My  time  for  leaving  the  world 
 is  at  hand ;  and  therefore  I  will  celebrate  the  Passover  to-day  with  my  dis- 
 ciples, in  anticipation  ?"  (d.)  In  Luke  xxiii.  54,  the  day  of  the  crucifixion 
 is  mentioned  as  a  common  Friday  (the  day  of  preparation),  a  day  on  which 
 there  could  be  no  scruples  about  any  kind  of  business ;  but  would  it  have 
 been  so  mentioned  if  it  had  been  the  first  day  of  Passover,  the  greatest 
 feast-day  in  all  the  year  ?  (e.)  The  general  diffusion  of  the  belief  that 
 Christ  held  a  proper  Passover  with  his  disciples  may  be  explained  on  the 
 ground  that  Christ  really  did  hold  his  last  supper  with  reference  and 
 allusion  to  the  Passover  supper  and  the  ceremonies  that  accompanied  it ; 
 that  the  first  Christians,  intent  upon  the  substance,  paid  little  heed  to 
 chronological  niceties ;  that  the  Jewi.sh-Christians  kept  up  the  Jewish 
 usage  of  the  Passover,  giving  it,  however,  a  Christian  import ;  while  the 
 purely  Gentile  converts  kept  no  such  festal  seasons.  The  interchange  of 
 tJic  first  day  of  imleavened  bi-ead  (as  the  day  of  Christ's  passion)  witli  the 
 first  (lay  of  the  Passover  feast  may  also  have  contributed  to  it.  These 
 grounds  might  suffice  to  explain  the  admission  into  the  synoptical  Gospels 
 of  the  idea  that  the  Passion  occurred  on  the  ^rs<  day  of  the  Passover;  but 
 are  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  hypothesis  that  the  author  of  John's  Gos- 
 pel (whether  it  be  admitted  as  genuine  or  not)  could  have  inserted  and  got 
 into  circulation  a  statement  invented  by  him.self,  and  conflicting  with  the 
 general  stream  of  tradition.     John's  chronology,  as  we  have  said,  is  con- 
 
DATE  OF  THE  SUPPER.  4f27 
 
 as  the  Christian  covenant-meal  was  to  take  the  place  of  that 
 of  the  Old  Testament.  Perhaps,  as  the  Sanhediim  had  deter- 
 mined to  carry  out  their  plans  against  him  before  the  feast,  he 
 spent  Thursday,  13  th  Kisan,  in  Bethany,  in  order  to  employ 
 these  last  hours  with  the  disciples  undistiu'bed.  In  the  morn- 
 ing he  sent  Peter  and  John  into  the  city,  to  make  the  neces- 
 sary pi'eparations  for  the  Pa.ssover  supper.  To  preserve  secrecy, 
 and  avoid  all  hazard  of  sui'prise  by  the  Sanhedrim,  he  desig- 
 nated the  house  at  wliich  the  supper  was  to  be  held  by  a  sign 
 undei'stood  by  its  owner,  ^\'ithout  specifying  the  name  of  the 
 latter.^ 
 
 Two  prominent  acts  of  Christ  marked  this  last  meal  with 
 the  di.sciples,  \iz.  the  vmshing  of  feet  and  the  institution  of  the 
 LorcVs  Supper.'^ 
 
 sistent  throughout ;  but  that  of  the  synoptical  Gospels  presents  discrepan- 
 cies that  appear  irreconcilahle. 
 
 Little  use  can  be  made  of  the  ancient  disputes  about  the  Passover ;  from 
 such  mere  fragments  we  cannot  decide  liow  far  the  Evangelical  accounts 
 were  appealed  to.  The  advocates  of  the  occidental  usage,  ApoUinaris  of 
 Hierapolis,  Cl(5ment  of  Alexandria,  and  Hippolytus,  appealed  to  John's 
 Gospel  (if  the  fragments  in  Chronicon pascJiale  Alcxandrhium,  ed.  Niebuhr, 
 Dindorf,  i.  13,  are  genuine)  to  prove  that  the  Last  Supper  was  not  a  Pass- 
 over proper.  Polycrates,  bishop  of  Ephesus  (Eus.  Hist.  Eccl.  v.  24) 
 appealed  to  "the  Gospel"  in  behalf  of  the  opposite  usage  ;  but  whether  he 
 appealed,  under  the  title  "  the  Gospel,"  to  one,  or  all  of  the  Evangelists, 
 we  cannot  conceive  how  he  could  reconcile  the  declarations  in  John  with 
 the  Passover  usages  of  Asia  Minor  (cf.  Dr.  Jleltberc/'s  Abhandl.  ub.  d. 
 Paschastreit,  Ilgen's  Zeitsclirift  fiir  Histor.  Theol.  ii.  2,  119).  What  is 
 the  meaning  of  the  words  of  Polycrates,  dyeiv,  Tt)ptiv  ri/v  ijfiipav'i  Not, 
 certainly,  the  keeping  of  the  Paschal  supper ;  nor  the  Jewish  Passovei, 
 assisted  at  by  Christians;  for  the  added  words  ■wavroTt  ti)v  ii/.tipav  I'jyayov 
 01  avyytvug  fiov,  orav  Tutv  'lovCaiiov  6  Xabg  ■i'lpvvE  ti)v  'O'l^Ji',  would 
 then  be  sheer  tautology.  He  must  have  meant,  then,  "  the  day  for  com- 
 memorating the  passion  of  Christ."  If,  then,  it  is  in  t/ds  sense  that  Poly- 
 crates says  of  "all  the  bishops  of  Lesser  Asia  since  the  time  of  St.  John," 
 that  they  ■Kctv-tc  irfiptjaav  tt/v  I'lfxepav  r/Jc  TidaapsaKaiCtKd-tjg  tov 
 Ttaaxa  Kara  to  euayykXtov,  he  obviously  means  that  they  "all  celebrated 
 the  14th  Nisan,"  on  which  the  Jewish  Passover  began,  in  commemoration 
 of  our  Lord's  Passion ;  and  for  confirmation  of  this  he  might  very  well 
 appeal  to  the  Gospel  of  John. 
 
 We  must  also  allude  to  a  remarkable  passage  in  Hippolj-tus  (in  his  first 
 book  upon  the  Feast  of  Passover,  1.  c.  p.  13),  there  reported  as  coming 
 from  the  lips  of  Christ :  ovketi  ipdyonaL  to  Trduxa  (surely  Luke  xxii.  16, 
 cannot  be  meant);  as  if  Christ  had  predicted  that  he  "would  no  more  eat 
 of  the  Paschal  lamb,  and  hence  not  live  to  see  another  Feast  of  Passover." 
 
 "  I  cannot  see  a  miracle  in  this :  it  cannot  be  shown  that  Luke  (xxii.  13) 
 means  to  narrate  it  as  miraculous. 
 
 ''  John  does  not  describe  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist:  it  was  known 
 and  conuneniorated  in  the  Cliurch  regularly ;  but  the  icasIUng  of  feet,  not 
 
428  THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
 
 §  266. — Christ  washes  the  Disciples'  Feet.     Conva-sation  ivith  Peter  in 
 regard,  to  it.     (John  xiii.  2-16.) 
 
 In  washing  tlie  disciples'  feet,  Christ  obAiously  intended  to 
 impress  vi\idly  and  permanently  upon  theii-  minds,  by  means 
 of  a  specific  act,  a  general  truth ;  and  to  remove  those  canial 
 expectations  of  a  secular  kingdom,  and  the  selfishness  neces- 
 sarily connected  therewith,  which  were  not  yet  wholly  banished 
 from  their  minds.^ 
 
 Such  an  act,  on  the  part  of  the  Divine  Master,  must  doubt- 
 less have  surprised  more  than  one  of  the  disciples.  That  He, 
 the  object  of  their  deepest  reverence  and  love,  should  do  for 
 them  so  lowly  a  ser%-ice,  may  well  have  been  a  surprise  and  a 
 contradiction  to  their  feelings.  Yet  that  same  revei'ence  pre- 
 vented them  from  resisting  his  will.  But  the  fiery  and  im- 
 j)etuous  Peter  could  not  so  command  his  feelings :  "  Lord,  dost 
 thou  wash  my  feef?"  Even  when  Christ  told  him,  in  view  of 
 this  reluctance,  that  he  should  know  the  impox-t  of  the  act 
 thereafter,  he  was  not  satisfied ;  until,  at  last,  the  Saviour  re- 
 buked his  self-wdll  with  the  declaration,  '^'■Jflvmsh  tJiee  not, 
 tliou  hast  no  part  in  «;«."  And  this  was  to  be  taken  literally, 
 for  this  single  case  was  a  test  of  the  state  of  heart  essential  for 
 imion  with  Christ :  it  was  necessaiy  for  Peter  to  show  forth  a 
 complete  renunciation  of  his  own  wUl,  and  absolute  subjection 
 to  that  of  Jesus.  But  the  spiritual  meaning  afteI'^vard  set 
 forth  by  Christ,  "v^iz.  that  none  could  enter  or  remain  in  his 
 communion  unless  spiritually  piirified  through  him,  was  pro- 
 bably implied  also  in  these  words.  Peter,  alarmed,  cries  out, 
 "Yea,  if  it  be  so.  Lord,  7iot  my  feet  alone,  hut  also  viy  hands  and 
 my  head.''  To  this  Christ  repUed,  '•  That  is  too  much :  lie  that 
 is  ivashed  (bathed)  needeth  not  save  to  ivash  his  feet,  but  is  clean 
 every  whit.'*  (A  figiu-e  taken  from  Eastern  usage :  he  that  is 
 already  bathed  need  only,  on  coming  in  from  the  road,  wash 
 off  the  soil  that  may  have  gathered  on  liis  feet.)  The  si)iritual 
 imi)oi't,  then,  of  the  symbolical  act,  and  of  Christ's  language  in 
 regard  to  it,  probably  is.  Whosoever,  through  faith  in  me,  has 
 received  the  puiifpng  principle  of  life,  who  is  pure  in  heart 
 
 preserved  by  any  such  commemoration,  he  gives  in  detail,  as  an  especially 
 marked  incident. 
 
 *  Cf.  p.  386,  on  Luke  xxii.  26,  2".  I  cannot  assert,  with  Gprei;  that 
 this  passage  is  unmeaning,  unless  interjireted  in  view  of  the  spnbolic  act  : 
 the  word  CiaKovtiv,  might  apply  to  his  whole  life,  as  devoted  to  the  ser\'ice 
 of  others  (cf  Matt.  xx.  2S).  But  the  form  of  the  passage  in  Luke  cer- 
 tainly appears  to  imply  an  allusion  to  thes}Tnbolic  act  which  John  records. 
 Tlie  thought  contained  in  it  is  the  same  as  that  in  John  xiii.  13-16. 
 
THE  BETRAYER.  429 
 
 and  motives,  needs  only  thereafter  continued  purification  from 
 sins  clea\4ng  to  him  outwardly;  just  as  the  Apostles,  though 
 inspired  by  pure  love  to  Christ,  still  stood  in  need  of  the 
 power  of  this  animating  love,  to  cleanse  and  jjurify  their  mode 
 of  thought. 
 
 §  2G7. — The  Words  of  Christ  icith  and  conca'tihu}  his  Betrayer,     (John 
 xiii.  11,  21,  seq.) 
 
 To  the  Apostles  he  said,  in  the  sense  above  defined,  "  Ye  are 
 clean;"'  but,  as  this  coidd  not  be  appHed  to  Judas,  he  added, 
 '•'  yet  not  all."  Intimations  of  this  kind  he  threw  out  more  and 
 more  frequently,  partly,  as  he  himself  said  (v.  19),  to  prepare 
 them  for  the  act  of  treachery,  that  it  might  not  take  them  un- 
 awares, and  lead  them  to  infer  that  He,  too,  had  been  deceived ; 
 aiid  partly,  perhaps,  in  order  to  rouse,  if  possible,  the  conscience 
 of  Judas  himself.  But  liis  foresight  of  the  awful  deed — that 
 one  who  had  been  a  special  object  of  his  love  should  disarm 
 hiai  and  become  a  tool  of  his  enemies — and  of  the  conflict  with 
 depravity  that  he  must  go  through,  even  uj)  to  his  last  hour, 
 moved  him  most  deeply;  and  he  now  spoke  more  plainly, 
 "  Venly  I  say  unto  you,  tluit  one  of  you  shall  betray  «ie." 
 
 The  disciples,  not  yet  able  to  understand  him,  looked  ujion 
 each  other,  surprised  and  confounded.  All  were  anxious  to 
 know  whom  he  alluded  to ;  but  Peter  alone,  as  usual,  gave  ex- 
 pression to  the  ^vish.  Even  he  did  not  venture  to  ask  aloud, 
 but  beckoned  to  John,  who  was  leaning  upon  the  Saviour's 
 breast,  as  they  surrounded  the  table,  that  he  should  put  the 
 question.  In  answer  to  John,  Christ  said,  in  a  low  tone,  that 
 it  wa-s  he  whose  tui-n  it  just  then  was  to  receive  from  his 
 hands  the  morsel  of  the  lamb  dipped  in  the  sauce.  And  this 
 wa.s  Judas." 
 
 This  occiuTence  could  not  fail  either  to  awaken  the  slmnber- 
 ing  conscience  of  Judas,  or  to  make  liim  anxious  to  leave  such  a 
 fellowship  and  take  the  last  step  of  his  crime.  When  he  arose, 
 Christ  said  to  him,  "  That  tltoic  cloest  (hast  resolved  to  do),  clo 
 quickly."  Not  impl}-ing  a  command  to  commit  the  deed,  but 
 rather  calculated  to  move  his  conscience,  had  it  been  still  sus- 
 ceptible of  impression.     But  he  had  decided  upon  the  act :  so 
 
 *  According  to  Matthew,  .Judaa  also  asked,  "Is  it  I?"  and  Jesus 
 answered  in  the  affirmative.  This  incident  would  come  in  most  naturally 
 at  this  point.  Judas,  noticing  the  alanned  countenances  of  the  disciples, 
 seeing  Peter  whisper  to  John,  John  to  Jesus,  and  Jesus  reply,  felt  that  he 
 was  discovered,  and  was  led  to  ask  the  question  directly.  This  must  cer- 
 tainly have  been  done  in  an  under  tone,  if  Judas  could  have  had  a  position 
 uear  enough. 
 
430  THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
 
 far  as  his  intentions  could  go,  it  was  as  good  as  done ;  and  there- 
 fore Christ  asked  him  to  hasten  the  crisis,  y 
 
 The  departure  of  Judas  to  inform  tlie  Sanhedrim  how  they 
 might  most  readily  seize  the  person  of  Jesus,  decided  his  death ; 
 and,  in  view  of  it,  he  said,  "JVoio  is  the  Son  of  21  an  glorified  (in 
 reference  to  the  sacrifice  of  his  eartlily  life,  because  the  ideal  of 
 holiness  is  realized  in  Him  under  the  last  struggles,  because 
 human  nature  attains  therein  its  liighest  moral  perfection),  cmd 
 God  is  glorified  in  Mm  (as  the  moral  glorifying  of  human  nature 
 is  the  perfect  gloiifying  of  God  in  it ;  the  perfect  manifestation 
 of  God  in  his  holiness  and  love).  If  God  he  glorified  in  him, 
 God  slboll  also  glorify  him  in  himself^  (shall  raise  him  to  Him- 
 self, and  glorify  him),  and  sJucll  straightioay  glorify  him."^ 
 
 §  268.— r/ie  Institution  of  the  Eucharist.     (Luke  xxii.  17-20.)'' 
 The  description  of  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist  given  by 
 Luke,  harmonizing  with  that   of  Paul  (1  Cor.  xi.  23,  seq.), 
 
 y  An  allusion  to  the  severer  struggles  that  yet  awaited  Christ:  not 
 expz-e.ssly  mentioned  by  John,  but  related  by  the  other  Evangelists. 
 
 '  The  expressions  tv  avru  and  tv  iavT(ii  (John  xiii.  32)  obviously  cor- 
 respond to  each  other.  As  the  first  betokens  the  glorifying  of  God  in 
 Jesus,  as  the  Son  of  Man,  so  the  second  denotes  the  glorifying  of  the  Son 
 of  Man  in  God,  by  his  being  raised  up  unto  God  in  heaven. 
 
 "  We  presuppose  that  Jesus  wished  Judas  to  depart  before  he  should 
 institute  the  Lord's  Supper.  As  the  words  in  verses  31,  32  were  directly 
 connected  with  the  departure  of  the  betrayer,  they  too  must  have  been 
 uttered  before  the  institution. 
 
 *>  As  John  does  not  give  an  account  of  the  institution  of  the  Eucharist, 
 there  is  some  difficulty  in  deciding  precisely  at  what  point  of  his  narrative 
 (eh.  xiii.)  it  should  be  inserted.  It  was  stated  in  the  last  note  that  v.  31, 
 ^2,  were  connected  directly  with  the  departure  of  Judas,  and  it  seems  to 
 us  that  the  proper  point  of  juncture  for  the  account  in  question  is  between 
 V.  32  and  33.  The  words  kvToXi)  Kcuvi],  commencing  v.  31,  connect  very 
 well,  it  is  true,  with  the  objects  of  the  institution ;  but  still,  if  v.  33  was 
 uttered  before  the  institution,  it  seems  strange  that  Peter's  question  (v.  36), 
 obviously  referring  to  v.  33,  should  have  been  put  after  the  interv^entioa 
 of  that  solemn  act,  which  must  have  drawn  the  attention  of  the  disciples 
 60  strongly.  AVe  consider,  then,  that  v.  33  was  spoken  after  the  institution. 
 Strauss  (3'^"  Aufl.  p.  449)  objects  to  this  collocation,  as  arbitrarily  severing 
 the  words  evOvQ  Co'^aau  avTov  (v.  32)  from  in  fiiKcibv  fitQ'  v^wv  tlfii 
 (v.  33).  I  cannot  see  the  force  of  the  objection.  The  pause  after  v.  32  is 
 natural ;  and  then  follows  the  solemn  S3Tnbolical  act,  in  which  Christ  sets 
 before  the  disciples  his  departure  from  the  earth,  and  gives  them  a  pledge 
 of  communion  with  him — a  communion  to  endure  after  his  ascension  to  his 
 glory.  Then  v.  33  opens  a  new  beginning  precisely  adapted  to  the  import 
 of  the  symbolical  act. 
 
 The  aptness  with  which  the  account  of  the  institution  can  be  here  fitted 
 to  John's  narrative,  and  its  admirable  adaptation  to  the  last  discourses  of 
 Christ,  as  recorded  by  him,  shows  that  was  one  of  the  links,  and  a  most 
 
THE  INSTITUTION  OF  THE  EUCHARIST.  431 
 
 seems  to  affoi'd  us  the  most  cleax  and  natural  view  of  the  trans- 
 action. It  is  distinguished  from  those  of  Matthew  and  Mark, 
 in  stating  definitely  that  the  giving  of  the  bread  was  separated 
 by  a  certain  interval  from  that  of  the  -svine ;  the  former  occur- 
 ring din*ing  the  supper,  the  latter  after  it. 
 
 It  is  introduced  by  the  follo-sving  words  of  Cluist :  "  /  have 
 heartily  desired  to  eat  this  Passover  with  you  before  I  suffer ; 
 for  I  say  unto  you,  I  %mll  not  any  'more  eat  thereof  until  it  he 
 fuJ filed  in  the  kingdom  of  God"  (i.  e.  imtil,  in  the  consummation 
 of  the  kingdom,  he  should  celebrate  with  them  the  higher  and 
 true  Passover  Supper).  After  these  words  of  fai-ewell,  he 
 takes  the  cup  of  red  wine,  blesses  it,  sends  it  round,  and 
 reminds  them  that  he  should  no  more  di-ink  of  the  fruit  of 
 the  vine  until  he  should  partake  with  them  of  a  higher  wine  in 
 the  kingdom  of  God.  After  thus  vividly  impressing  them 
 with  liis  departure,  and  preparing  them  for  the  institution  of 
 a  rite  in  its  commemoration,  he  breaks  one  of  the  loaves,  and 
 divides  it  among  them,  showing  them  that  the  broken  bread 
 was  to  represent  his  body,  given  up  for  them ;  and  this  they 
 were  to  repeat  in  remembrance  of  liim.  Then,  after  the  con- 
 clusion of  the  meal,  he  sends  round  the  cup  again,  and  tells 
 them  that  the  wme  is  to  represent  his  blood,  about  to  be  shed 
 
 important  one,  in  the  chain  of  Christ's  last  acts.  Gfrorer  seeks  to  prove, 
 however,  from  John's  omission  to  mention  the  institution,  that  although 
 Christ  may  have  spoken  at  the  Last  Supper  the  words  ascribed  to  him, 
 they  were  words  spoken  by  the  way,  and  not  intended  to  establish  such  a 
 commemorative  rite  as  that  which  was  afterward  founded  upon  them;  just 
 as  a  deeper  signification  was  found  in  other  expressions  ot  Christ  after  his 
 departure  than  was  manifest  before;  and  that,  therefore,  John  omitted 
 them,  as  he  did  so  many  other  things  comparatively  unimportant.  This 
 hjqjothesis  contradicts  itself.  Even  Gfriircr  must  presuppose  that  John 
 personally  knew  and  partook  of  the  Eucharist  before  writing  his  Gospel ; 
 and  it  nmst  be  presupposed  just  as  certainly,  that  it  was  at  that  time  con- 
 nected with  these  words  of  Christ ;  and  that  John,  who  certainly  was  not 
 inclined  to  attribute  a  less  meaning  than  others  to  Christ's  sayings  at  the 
 Last  Supper,  must  have  conceived  the  words  to  be  so  connected.  On 
 purely  psychological  grounds,  therefore,  John's  omission  cannot  be  ex- 
 plained in  this  way.  In  a  word,  no  one  having  an  intuition  of  Christ,  and 
 conceiving  his  solemn  state  of  mind  at  that  Last  Supper,  can  believe  that 
 he  uttered  those  solemn  words  without  a  deeper  and  more  earnest  meaning. 
 As  for  the  hyi^othesis,  recently  revived,  of  an  influence  exerted  by  Essenism- 
 upon  Christian  culture,  it  is  wholly  destitute  of  historical  foundation  (cf. 
 p.  39,  seq.);  the  derivation  of  the  A(iapcc  from  the  common  repasts  of  the 
 Essenes  is  wholly  an  invention  of  fancy.  It  is  altogether  unhistorical  to 
 seek  an  external  origin  for  a  usage  that  can  be  naturally  explained  from 
 internal  grounds,  as  the  origin  of  the  celebration  of  the  Eucharist  from  an 
 imitation  of  Christ's  Last  Supper  with  liis  disciples. 
 
432  THE  LAST  SUPPER. 
 
 for  them.  Each  of  these  acts,  tlierefore — the  giving  of  the 
 bread  and  the  giving  of  the  Avine — denotes  the  same  thing, 
 viz.  the  remembrance  of  the  Last  Supper.  Each  had  its 
 signification  separately;  but  the  repetition,  during  the  meal 
 and  after  it,  served  to  impress  the  symbolical  meaning  of  the 
 act  still  more  deeply  upon  the  minds  of  the  disciples. 
 
 The  giving  of  tlianks  before  the  distribution  of  the  bread 
 and  wine  corresponds  to  a  similar  act  ou  the  part  of  the  head 
 of  the  family  in  the  Je\vish  Passover  feast,  in  which  thanks- 
 giving was  offered  for  the  gifts  of  natiu'e,  and  also  for  the 
 dehverance  of  the  fathers  out  of  Egypt  and  the  foimding  of  the 
 old  covenant ;  we  may  infer,  therefore,  that  Christ's  thanks- 
 giving had  reference  partly  to  the  creation  of  all  material 
 things  for  man  (bread  and  wine  symbolizing  all  God's  gifts  in 
 natiu'e);  partly,  and  indeed  chiefly,  to  his  own  death,  in  order 
 to  deliver  men  from  the  bondage  of  sin,  and,  by  his  redemptive 
 act,  to  establish  the  neio  covenant  between  God  and  man.'' 
 
 As  to  the  wcnxh  used  in  the  distribution,  "  This  is  my  body ; " 
 and  "  This  is  my  blood,"  it  is  impossible  that  any  of  the  reci- 
 pients at  that  time  could  have  supposed  them  to  be  literally 
 meant;  as  he  was  then  before  them  in  his  corporeal  presence. 
 Had  he  intended  to  present  so  new  and  exti'aordinaiy  a  sense 
 to  their  minds,  he  could  not  but  have  stated  it  more  definitely ; 
 and  had  they  so  understood  him,  the  difficulty  would  assiu'edly 
 have  led  them  to  question  him  fm'ther.  But  as  the  whole 
 transaction — the  institution,  at  the  close  of  a  farewell  sujjper, 
 of  a  visible  sign  of  communion  to  endure  after  his  departui-e — 
 had  a  symbolical  character,  they  would  have  interpreted  these 
 loords  also  unnaturally,  if  they  had  understood  them  literally, 
 and  not  symbolically.  "  This  is,  for  you,  my  body  and  blood ; 
 i.  e.  represents  to  you  my  body  and  blood."  The  breaking  of 
 the  bread  was  a  natural  symbol  of  the  breaking  of  his  body; 
 the  pouring  out  of  the  red  wine  (the  ordinary  wine  of  Pales- 
 tine) was  a  natural  symbol  of  the  pouring  out  of  his  blood. 
 "  I  ofier  up  my  life  for  your  redemption ;  and  when,  in  re- 
 membrance thereof,  you  meet  again  to  partake  of  this  supper, 
 be  assured  that  I  shall  then  be  with  you  as  truly  as  now  I  am 
 with  you,  visibly  and  corporeally,  in  body  and  blood.  The 
 bread  and  wine,  which  I  now  divide  among  you  as  symbols  of 
 
 "=  The  gifts  of  nature  and  of  redemption  are  inseparable;  redemjition 
 ,ilone  has  re-established  the  original  relation  between  man  and  nature. 
 Only  when  man  is  restored  to  communion  with  God  is  he  assured  that  all 
 nature  exists  for  Ids  good,  to  be  used  by  him  for  the  glory  of  God. 
 
THE  NEW  COMMAJ^DMEXT.  433 
 
 my  body  and  blood,  vnll  then  stand  in  stead  of  my  coi'poreal 
 presence." 
 
 It  may  be  added,  that  this  symbol  was  not  an  entirely  new 
 one  to  the  disciples :  it  had  been  used  substantially,  in  the 
 conversation  before  referred  to  (p.  292,  seq.)  between  Chiist 
 and  the  Jews,  in  the  synagogxie  at  Capernaum.  To  "  eat  his 
 flesh  and  drink  his  blood"'  was  an  under.stood  sign  of  the 
 closest  spiritual  communion  -with  his  Divine  human  natiire. 
 And  therefore  he  said,  in  giving  the  wine,  "  This  is  my  blood, 
 the  seal  of  the  new  covenant,  lohich  is  given  for  many  for  the 
 remission  of  sins."  "^ 
 
 CHAPTER  III. 
 
 Christ's  last  discourses  with  his  disciples. 
 
 §  269.— TAe  Neio  Commandmejit.  (John  xiii.  33-35.) 
 After  Chiist,  in  taking  leave  of  his  own,  had  given  them 
 the  symbol  and  pledge  of  continued  communion,  he  said  to 
 them,  in  the  familiar  style  of  a  father  to  his  family,  ''  Little 
 children,  yet  a  little  ivhile  I  am  with  you,  aiul,  as  I  said  unto 
 the  Jews,  '  whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come,'  so  'now  I  say  unto 
 you.^  A  new  commandment  give  I  unto  you,  that  ye  love  one 
 anotlcer ;  as  I  Juwe  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  anotlier.  By 
 this  shall  all  men  know  tJuit  ye  are  my  disciples,  if  ye  love  one 
 anotI(£r."  The  commandment  of  love  is  here  called  a  7iew  one, 
 because  it  was  the  characteristic  of  the  new  covenant,  in  "view 
 of  which  the  Lord's  Supper  had  just  been  instituted,  and  which 
 he  was  then  about  to  seal  with  liis  suflerings.  It  is  true,  the 
 all-comprehending  commandment,  to  "love    God   supremely, 
 
 •*  It  has  been  disputed  whether  the  words  "for  the  remissimi  of  sins" 
 were  really  added  hy  Christ.  But  the  import  of  the  words  of  consecration 
 is  fully  complete  without  them.  The  founding  of  the  «cio  covenant  (which 
 none  will  deny  to  have  been  embraced  in  the  words  of  consecration  ;  Paul 
 gives  it  so,  as  well  as  Luke,  and  they  must  have  received  them  from  ear- 
 witnesses)  covers  the  whole  ground.  The  "new  covenant,"  founded  upon 
 the  self-offering  of  Christ,  could  only  refer  to  the  new  relation  between 
 man  and  G-od,  secured  by  that  self-sacrifice ;  viz.  the  pardon  of  sin  through 
 his  sufferings,  and  the  restoration  of  communion  with  God,  which  the  old 
 covenant  could  not  restore.  The  whole  imjjort  of  Christianity,  in  relation 
 to  the  old  covenant,  is  clearly  set  forth  in  that  of  the  Loi'd's  Supper,  as 
 given  by  Christ  himself. 
 
 ^  In  a  different  sense,  however,  from  that  in  which  it  was  said  to  the 
 Jews :  the  latter  were  to  remain  separated  from  him  in  spirit  and  dispo- 
 sition, but  to  the  disciples  he  had  given  a  pledge  of  continued  connnunion 
 — the  Supper  of  the  new  covenant.  He  then  proceeds  to  give  them  the 
 commandment  of  the  new  covenant,  the  law  of  love,  embracing  all  others, 
 by  which  the  inward  and  spiritual  communion  was  to  be  outwardly 
 manifested. 
 
 2  F 
 
434  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 and  one's  neighbour  as  one's  self,"  wan  contained  in  the  old 
 covenant ;  but  it  became  a  oiew  one,  by  its  reference  to  the 
 sacrifice  of  Christ,  -which  expressed  its  essence ;  it  demanded  a 
 love,  •willuig,  after  His  example,  to  sacrifice  every  thing  for  the 
 bi'ethren — the  spirit  of  love,  in  a  word,  which  was  to  be  the 
 soul  of  the  new  congregation  of  God,  proceeding,  of  itself, 
 from  communion  with  him  and  intuition  of  his  image.  It  was 
 new,  also,  Avith  respect  to  the  earlier  stages  of  the  disciples' 
 association  with  him :  it  was  only  when  his  death  was  at  hand 
 that  he  could  set  it  vividly  before  them  in  this  sense. 
 
 §  270. — Tlie  Request  of  Peter. — Christ  predicts  Peter's  Denial  of  Him. 
 (John  xiii.  36-38.) 
 
 So  strongly  were  the  disciples  wedded  to  their  earlier  ideas 
 and  expectations,  that  it  seemed  impossible  to  make  them 
 realize  the  approaching  departure  of  Christ.  Peter,  alarmed 
 at  his  words,  inquired,  '■'■Lord,  ivhither  goest  thou?"  Jesus,  in 
 reply,  explained  the  sense  of  his  words,  at  the  same  time  inti- 
 mating that  Peter  should  be  able,  at  a  later  period,  though  he 
 then  was  not,  to  follow  the  Master  through  suffering :  '•'  Whither 
 I  go  thou  canst  not  follow  me  noio,  hut  thou  sJmlt  follow  me  after- 
 ward." Peter,  ever  rash  and  self-confident,  was  not  satisfied 
 to  wait  for  the  future :  belie\-ing  himself  then  able,  he  9.sked, 
 "  Lord,  tohy  can  I  not  follow  tJiee  now  ?  I  will  lay  down  my 
 life  for  thy  sake." 
 
 Christ  than  predicted  his  three-fold  denial — the  punishment 
 of  his  fro  ward  self-confidence:  "  Wilt  thoic  lay  down  thy  lifefonr 
 my  salce  ?  The  cock  sJuill  not  croio  till  thoic  hast  denied  me 
 thrice."  * 
 
 §  271. — Christ  predicts  the  Danger  of  the  Disciples  in  their  new  Rdations  to 
 tli£  People.     (Luke  xxii.  35-3S.)e 
 
 Certain  fragments  of  Christ's  conversation  at  the  table  are 
 preserved  to  us  in  the  first  three  Gospels,  not  given  by  John, 
 
 '  The  agreement  of  three  independent  accounts — Matthew,  Luke,  and 
 John — in  btatihg  this  remarkable  incident,  confirms  its  credibility.  In 
 John's  Gospel,  it  is  presented  in  an  obvious  connexion  ;  in  the  other  two, 
 as  an  isolated  fact. 
 
 «  Gfriirer  asserts  (Heilig.  Sage,  i.  336)  that  this  passage  wa.s  of  later 
 orifin,  and  supports  his  assertion  on  the  ground  that  the  connexion  of 
 tboui'ht  between  verses  36  and  37  is  fal.se.  Not  so  :  verse  37  coutiiin.s  the 
 {/round  of  the  change  in  the  disciples'  condition,  recited  in  verse  36  ;  the 
 execution  of  Christ  as  a  transgressor,  making  him  an  object  of  aversion  and 
 disgust,  was  to  react  upon  the  condition  of  his  followers.  It  is  said, 
 further,  that  the  passage  was  inserted  here  because  men  stumbled  at 
 Peter's  conduct,  as  recited  in  verse  50.     But  it  would  be  a  strange  way  to 
 
INSTRUCTIONS  TO  THE  DISCIPLES.  435 
 
 whoso  object  was  to  record  those  profound  and  connected 
 discourses  which  so  strikingly  exhibited  the  loftiness  of  his 
 Divinity,  his  heavenly  calmness  and  serenity  of  soid.  Among 
 these  fragments  are  contained  intimations,  in  a  variety  of  foiins, 
 of  the  great  change  in  their  condition  that  was  at  hand. 
 Reiteration  and  emphasis  were  necessary  to  break  away  their 
 stubborn  prejudices. 
 
 Reminding  them  of  the  first  trial  mission  ^  on  which  he  had 
 sent  them,  \sdth  express  directions  to  provide  nothing  for  their 
 journey,  he  asked  whether  they  had  then  lacked  anything ; 
 and  they  said,  Nothing.  In  that  mission,  they  foimd  the 
 people  of  Galilee  favoui-ably  di.sposed ;  no  open  hostiUty  had 
 been  excited  against  Jesus  j  on  the  contrary,  the  fame  of  liis 
 actions  inclined  the  people  to  acknowledge  him,  at  least,  as  a 
 man  endowed  with  Divine  powers.  But  noio  his  own  fate, 
 and  the  consequent  change  of  popular  feeling,  was  about  to 
 react  upon  the  disciples.  Accordingly,  he  gave  them — not 
 rules  for  a  new  mode  of  life  and  conduct,  but — a  striking 
 illustration,  in  figurative  terms,  not  only  of  his  own  sufferings, 
 but  of  the  dangers  that  awaited  them,  from  the  sudden  reflux 
 of  the  popular  feeling.  The  figures  chosen  were  dii-ectly 
 antithetical  to  those  employed  on  the  former  occasion.  "  If  I 
 formerly  bade  you  travel  without  purse,  or  scrip,  or  shoes 
 (without  provisions  for  the  journey,  as  your  wants  would  all 
 be  supplied) ;  so  now,  on  the  contrary,  I  tell  you  that  you  shall 
 find  men  difierently  disposed  towards  you.  He  that  hath  a 
 purse,  let  him  take  it,  and  likewise  his  scrip  (all  the  necessaries 
 of  travel) ;  and  he  that  hath  no  purse '  (money),  let  him  sell 
 his  garment  and  buy  a  sword  "  (or  knife).  As  if  he  had  said, 
 *•'  You  will  hereafter  need  to  care  more  for  the  safety  of  your 
 lives  than  of  your  garments;  you  will  need,  more  than  all 
 things  else,  means  to  cany  you  safely  through  the  difficulties 
 that  will  surround  you." 
 
 The  Avhole  connexion  of  these  words  taught  the  disciples 
 that  they  were  to  be  taken,  not  literally,  but  as  the  sj-mbolical 
 veil  of  a  general  thought.  And  they  could  easily  have  gath- 
 ered from  Chiist's  example,  from  the  spirit  of  his  whole  fife, 
 and  from  his  teaching,  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  and  else- 
 where (if  they  were  not  utterly  thoughtless  hearers),  that  he 
 
 get  rid  of  this  difficulty,  to  introduce  a  greater  one,  viz.  an  advice  on  the 
 part  of  Jesus  himself  to  his  disciple.?,  to  provide  swords  above  all  thino- 
 
 "  Cf  p.  280,  seq. 
 
 '  The  antithesis  is  between  6  ixcjv  (iaXavrioi'  and  o  u>)  t\o)r 
 2  F  2 
 
436  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 could  not  really  intend  to  bid  them  fumLsh  themselves  ^\•ith 
 swords. 
 
 From  tills  change  in  the  feelings  of  the  world  towards  Ijis 
 disciples,  Christ  naturally  passed  to  his  oAvn  fate,  which  wah  to 
 cause  that  change  itself  He  told  them  that  he  was  '•  to  be 
 reckoned  among  transgi'essors"  as  an  object  of  hatred  and 
 abhorrence.  Then  said  two  of  the  discijjles,  "  Behold,  Lord  ! 
 two  of  us  are  already  provided  with  swords."'  Language  im- 
 plying an  utter  misunderstanding  of  what  he  had  said ;  a  mis- 
 understanding hardly  to  be  expected  in  men  who  had  so  long 
 enjoyed  the  Saviour's  pei'sonal  society.  But,  perhaps,  injustice 
 to  the  disciples,  we  ought  to  suppose  that  their  words  were 
 uttered  in  the  confusion  and  distress  of  mind  which  his  decla- 
 rations occasioned.  Perhaps  Peter,  the  most  hasty  and  head- 
 long of  the  Apostles,  who  carried  a  sword,  was  one  of  the 
 speakers.  It  was  well  that  this  misunderstanding  was  ex- 
 pressed, to  be  checked  and  done  away.  "It  'Is  etwughj''  said 
 Christ,  plainly  showing  that  he  had  not  the  slightest  intention 
 to  advise  the  use  of  weapons  of  defence,  as  two  swords  among 
 them  would  have  been  nothing  for  that  purpose.  Perhaps, 
 however,  the  phrase  might  be  more  correctly  rendered,  ^'enongh 
 of  it;"'  i.  e.  a  sign  to  drop  the  subject;  as  if  a  reproof  of  their 
 tendency  to  stick  to  the  words  and  literal  features  of  his  lan- 
 guage, rather  than  to  its  spii-it  and  sense. 
 
 §  272. — Christ  comoles  the  Disciple  v>ith  Oie  Promise  of  his  Return. 
 (John  xiv.) 
 
 The  last  connected  discourses  of  Christ  ai'e  given  at  length 
 in  John's  Go.spel.J     In  these  he  made  use  of  a  different  turn  of 
 
 '  The  word  may  he  rendered  "  knives  ;"  and  these  were  in  common  use 
 among  travellers  in  those  regions  for  a  variety  of  purposes. 
 
 J  It  is  charged  by  some  that  John  could  not  possibly  have  remembered 
 these  discourses  thus  amid  the  thousand  painful  and  tumidtuous  emotions 
 that  must  have  immediately  followed.  Little  do  such  objectors  conceive 
 of  the  nature  of  the  human  soul,  and  of  the  might  of  deep  impressions  ui)on  it. 
 Such  impressions  these  discourses  must  have  made  upon  a  mind  and  heart 
 like  John's,  and  what  was  once  received  thus  into  the  depths  of  the  soul 
 no  concussions  could  cast  out.  Moreover,  tliese  emotions,  how  powerfid 
 soever  tliey  may  have  been,  lasted  but  for  a  few  days,  and  were  followed 
 by  a  reunion  with  Christ,  by  a  new  epoch  of  the  interior  life  of  the  disciples 
 which  developed  itself  more  and  more  gloriously.  How,  in  these  few  days, 
 could  John  have  forgotten  discourses  so  weighty  in  themselves,  and  affect- 
 ing his  own  soul  so  powerfully  ?  And,  when  the  spiritual  life  of  the  dis- 
 ciples, sunken  for  a  moment,  emerged  again  after  the  resurrection  of  their 
 Master,  how  brilliantly  must  the  image  of  these  last  discourses  have  shone 
 forth  from  the  depths  of  their  memories  and  their  hearts  !  How  precious 
 must  each  word  have  been  to  them  !     With  what  intense  interest  must 
 
PROMISE  OF  HIS  RETURN.  437 
 
 thought  from  that  above  referred  to,  to  prepare  the  minds  and 
 hearts  of  the  disciples  for  the  struggles  that  awaited  them.  In 
 \-iew  of  their  evident  distress,  while  yet  sitting  at  the  table,  he 
 said,  "Let  not  your  hearts  be  troubled;  trust  in  God,  and 
 confide  in  jNIe."  Even  when  liLs  visible  presence  should  be 
 removed,  they  were  to  trust  in  him  as  the  Mediator  of  theii- 
 communion  ^vith  God ;  nor,  in  giief  for  his  depai-ture,  to  think 
 that  he  had  left  them  alone  in  the  world.  There  would  be 
 mansions  for  all,  he  told  them,  in  his  Father's  house.  He  was 
 going  before  (it  was  the  object  of  his  redeeming  sufferings  and 
 of  his  ascension  to  heaA-en),  to  prepare  a  place  for  them ;  just 
 as  a  fiiend  goes  before  his  friend  to  make  his  dwelHng  ready. 
 And  then  he  promises  them,  "1/  I  go  and  prepare  a  place  for 
 yov.,  I  vnU  come  again  and  receive  you  unto  myself ;  tltat  wltere 
 I  am,  tliei'e  ye  viay  he  also." 
 
 This  might  be  understood  of  Christ's  second  advent,  were  it 
 not  that  he  speaks  of  what  was  to  happen  immediately  upon 
 his  return  to  the  Father,  and  that  his  design  was  to  comfort 
 them  in  view  of  the  immediate  pain  of  separation.  Nor  can  it 
 be  ap})lied  to  liis  ResuiTcction,  because  his  "going  to  the 
 Father"  was  to  foUoio  the  resui'rection,  and  this,  again,  to  be 
 followed  by  a  separation.*^     The  only  remaining  interpretation 
 
 they  have  turned  them  over  and  dwelt  upon  their  import !  And  how  clear, 
 in  the  light  of  their  experience  of  the  fulfilment  of  his  predictions,  must 
 many  things  have  appeared  that  were  before  obscure  ! 
 
 Equally  futile  is  the  objection  that  John  wrote  his  Gospel  at  an  advanced 
 age,  when  some  things  must  have  escaped  his  memory,  and  others  become 
 blended  with  his  own  thoughts.  He  must  have  repeated  these  discourses, 
 times  without  number,  to  others  ;  how,  then,  can  it  be  said  that  he  could 
 not  commit  them  faithfully  to  writing  ?  (we  do  not  mean  to  say  verbatim  et 
 literatim,  cf.  index,  sub  voc.  John).  The  remark  of  Irenaius  with  regard 
 to  what  he  had  heard  in  his  youth  from  the  lips  of  Polycarp,  will  apply 
 with  vastly  greater  force  to  John  and  Christ :  "  MaXXoi/  yap  to.  rare 
 Siafiviiiuovivw  tCiv  ivayxoQ  yivon'ivwv,  a'l  yap  tK  iraiciov  iia9i)0tir 
 avvaviovcrai.  ry  4'^XV  ifovvrai  aiiTy."  (Comp.  the  entire  passage, 
 Eiisch.  V.  20  ;  it  bears  remarkably  against  human  efforts  to  convert  a  his- 
 torical period  into  a  mythical  one.) 
 
 John  could  not  have  been  John  had  it  been  possible  for  liim  to  forget 
 such  di.^courses  of  Christ. 
 
 A  further  proof  of  the  originality  of  these  discourses,  as  recorded  by 
 John,  is  the  aptness  with  which  many  pjissages  are  joined  into  them  which, 
 in  the  other  Gospels,  are  presented  in  isolated  forms,  or  in  inapt  con- 
 ne.xions  ;  e.g.  Luke  xii.  11,  12;  Matt.  x.  17-20;  Mark  xiii.  11.  The 
 passage  in  John  xvi.  32,  is  connected  in  Matt.  xxvi.  31,  Mark  xiv.  27, 
 ■with  the  account  of  Peter's  denial. 
 
 •^  This  objection  would  fall  away  if  we  coiUd  believe,  with  L.  Kinkel 
 (Stud.  u.  Krit.  1841,  3),  that  Christ,  after  leaving  the  grave  and  appearing 
 
438  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 is  to  apply  it  to  his  spii'itual  coming,  to  his  revealing  himself 
 again  to  tbem,  as  the  glorified  one,  in  the  communion  of  the 
 Divine  life.  Not  only  were  they  to  follow  Him  to  the  heavenly 
 "mansions,"^  where  he  was  to  "provide  a  place  for  them,"  but 
 he  himself  was  "  again  to  come  to  them,''  that  whei-e  He  was, 
 there  they  might  be  also,  ia  spirit,  united  with  him,  never 
 again  to  be  separated.  But  as  they  could  not  as  yet  fully 
 apprehend  this  spiritual  coming  and  communion,  it  was  only 
 at  a  later  period  that  these  expressions,  sufficiently  within 
 their  capacity  to  give  them  consolation  at  the  time,  were 
 understood  in  their  full  import. 
 
 §  273. — Conversation  with  Philip  and  Thomas. — Christ  the.  Way. 
 (John  xiv.) 
 
 The  institution  of  the  Eucharist  also  contained  an  allusion  "^ 
 to  the  promise  that  he  would  be  with  his  disciples  as  truly 
 after  his  dejmrture  as  he  had  been  duiing  his  corporeal  pre- 
 sence. And  as  he  knew  that  their  minds  were  not  yet  entirely 
 free  from,  carnal  and  uns^^iritual  views,  he  gave  occasion  for 
 them  to  express  themselves  fi-eely,  in  order  to  give  them 
 clearer  ideas  by  means  of  their  very  misunderstandings. 
 
 "  Whither  I  go,''  said  he,  "ye  know;  and  the  way  ye  Jcnow." 
 Still,  the  death  of  Messiah  was  a  hard  conception  for  them ;  a 
 miraculous  removal  fi-om  the  eai-th  would  have  accorded  better 
 with  their  feelings.  Thomas,*^  who  seems  to  have  remained  in 
 bondage  to  sense  more  than  any  of  the  others,  said  to  him, 
 "Lord,  we  know  not  whitlier  thou  goest;  and,  lioio  can  ive  knoio 
 the  tvay  ? "  The  Savioui',  in  his  rej)ly,  inverts  the  order ;  if 
 they  had  known  the  "way,"  they  would  have  known  the 
 "whither:"  "I  am  the  way,  the  truth,  and  the  life;  no  man 
 Cometh  unto  ilie  Father  hut  hy  me.     If  ye  Jiad  knoion  me,  ye 
 
 to  Mary,  ascended  to  heaven  and  only  returned  thence  when  he  reappeared 
 to  the  disciples.  But  the  words  under  consideration  do  not  justify  this 
 supposition.  However  we  may  conceive  Christ's  reappearance  after  his 
 resurrection,  they  could  not  satisfy  the  promises,  given  in  these  discourses, 
 of  a  new  and  higher  spiritual  connexion  between  him  and  his  disciples.  In 
 view  of  this  continued  manifestation,  this  uninterrupted  communion,  his 
 bodily  re-appearance  was  only  preparatory  and  subordinate. 
 
 '  Compare  the  analogy  in  the  figure  of  the  "everlasting  mansions," 
 p.  301. 
 
 ™  The  last  promise,  also,  Matt,  xxviii.  20,  presupposes  such  fizller 
 explanations  as  those  which  we  find  recorded  by  John  in  these  discourses. 
 
 "  Thomas  displays  the  same  character  here  as  in  his  subsequent  doubts 
 concerning  Christ's  resurrection.  It  is  wholly  incredible  that  the  author 
 of  John's  Gospel,  who  obviously  was  little  capable  of  assuming  different 
 characters,  should  have  invented  such  a  one. 
 
PHILIP  AND  THOMAS.  439 
 
 sliovld  have  knoion  my  Father  also!''  (Had  they  better  known 
 Him,  tlii'ough  whom  the  Father  reveals  and  communicates 
 liimself,  they  would  have  known  better  all  the  rest.)  The 
 three  conceptions  in  this  passage  ace  closely  connected  together. 
 He  designates  himself  not  merely  as  the  guide,  but  as  the  Way 
 itself;  and  that  because  he  is  liimself,  according  to  his  nature 
 and  life,  the  Truth;  the  truth  springing  from  the  Life;  be- 
 cause he  is,  in  himself,  the  Source  of  the  Divine  Life  among 
 men,  as  well  as  the  personal  manifestation  of  the  Divine  Truth. 
 He  is,  therefore,  the  Way,  inasmuch  as  mankind,  by  com- 
 munion of  Divine  Hfe  with  him,  receive  the  truth,  and  are 
 brought  by  it  into  union  with  the  Father.  He  that  knows 
 him,  therefore,  knows  the  Father  also.  "Ayid  from  henceforth 
 ye  hnoio  him,  and  have  seen  him;''  i.  e.  after  their  long  inter- 
 com'se  ^^dth  Christ,  they  were  now,  at  least,  to  see  and  recognize 
 the  Father  in  him. 
 
 But  Philip,  still  on  the  stand-point  of  sense,  applied  these 
 words  to  a  sensible  theophany,  as  a  sign  of  the  Messianic  era  : 
 "Lord,  shoio  us  the  Fatlier,  and  it  sufficeth  us."  This  misunder- 
 standing led  Christ  again  to  impress  upon  their  minds  the 
 same  truth,  that  whoever  obtained  a  just  spiritual  intuition  of 
 Him  saw  the  Father  in  Him ;  the  Father,  with  whom  He 
 lived  in  inseparable  communion,  and  who  manifested  himself 
 in  His  words  and  works  (v.  9,  10,  11).  But  these  works,  and 
 the  manifestation  of  God  in  them,  were  not  to  remain  to  the 
 disciples  something  merely  external.  Wlioever  believed  on 
 him  was,  through  his  fellowship,  to  become  an  organ  of  his 
 continued  Divine  working  for  the  renewal  of  the  life  of  man- 
 kind; the  aim  of  liis  whole  manifestation  was  to  do  yet  greater 
 things  than  he  had  done°  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  you,  lie 
 tlvxt  helieveth  on  me,  the  loorhs  that  I  do  shall  he  do  also;  and 
 yet  greater  works  tlia/n  these  shall  lie  do."v 
 
 And  the  som-ce  of  aU  this  power  was  to  be,  in  his  own 
 words,  "Because  I  go  unto  my  Father;"  they  were  to  gain  it 
 precisely  by  that  separation,  the  prospect  of  which  then  filled 
 them  with  giief  and  soxtow.  When  he  shoidd  go  to  the 
 Father,  and  remove  from  them  the  visible,  hiiman,  and,  there- 
 fore, liniited  form  of  his  manifestation,  as  a  source  of  depen- 
 dence, then  would  he,  as  the  glorified  one,  work  invisibly 
 from  heaven  in  them,  and  among  them,  with  Di\dne  power. 
 And   therefore    it    was    that,    through   communion    of   the 
 
 °  Cf.  the  excellent  remarks  oi  Kling,  Stud.  u.  Krit.  1836,  iii.  684. 
 p  Cf.  pp.  196,  395, 
 
440  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 DiN-ine  life  with  him,  they  were  to  "do  yet  gi-eater  things  than 
 these." 
 
 §  274. — Of  Prayer  in  the  Name  of  Christ.     He  promises  the  Spirit  of  Truth, 
 the  Comforter;  and  Jlin  own  Return.     (John  xiv.  13-26.) 
 
 The  tli.sciple.s  were  to  enter  into  new  relations  with  Clirist. 
 He,  therefore,  specially  taught  them  to  pray  in  hU  luime.  Am 
 they  had  before,  dming  his  bodily  presence,  expressed  their 
 wants  to  him  jjersonally,  so  now,  ti*usting  in  him,  and  conscious 
 of  the  new  relations  in  which,  through  him,  they  stood  to  the 
 Father,  they  were  to  apply  to  the  Father  in  his  name.  "And 
 to/iatsoever  ye  sluiU  ask  of  t/ie  Father  in  my  name  (i.  e.  through 
 his  mediation),  tluxt  tvill  I  do,  that  tlie  Fatlier  may  he  glm-ijied  in 
 tlie  Son"  (by  what  the  Son  should  work  among  men  to  the 
 glory  of  the  Father,  by  the  spread  of  the  kingdom  of  God 
 through  him).  At  the  same  time,  certain  conditions  were 
 essential  on  their  part:  "If  ye  love  me,  Jceep  my  comnumd- 
 liients." 
 
 And  this  forms  the  transition  to  the  promise  which  follows  : 
 "And  I  ioiUj)ray  the  Father,  and  lie  shall  give  you  another  Com- 
 forter, that  lie  may  abide  roith  you  for  ever."  Through  his  me- 
 diation, the  Father  would  send  them,  instead  of  Him  who  had, 
 up  to  that  time,  been  then-  help  in  all  things,  anotlter  Helpex', 
 who  should  not  leave  them,  as  He  was  about  to  do.  "Even 
 the  Sinrit  of  Trutli :"  and  he  calls  the  Spirit  so,  because  it  alone 
 can  unfold  the  meaning  of  his  tiiith,  and  because  union  with 
 the  Holy  Spirit  can  only  be  obtained  by  apjiropriating  that 
 truth.  This  Spirit,  he  told  them,  the  woi'ld  could  not  receive, 
 because  it  was  totally  foreign  to  the  world ;  but  they  were  to 
 know  it,  in  the  only  way  in  which  it  could  be  known,  by 
 inward  and  personal  exjierience:  "He  dwelleth  loith  you,  and 
 s/tall  he  in  yoit." 
 
 His  descrijition  of  the  Spirit  makes  it,  in  relation  to  his  o"Ani 
 j)re\'ious  personal  presence  among  them,  something  difl'erent 
 from  himself  This  prepared  them  to  apprehend,  in  a  more 
 spiritual  way  than  before,  tlie  annoimcement  of  his  own  return, 
 v/hich  he  now  repeated.  With  this  Spirit  it  mas  tliat  he  himself 
 teas  to  come  to  tJiem :  "  I  loill  not  leave  you  orpluuis  ;  I  xvill  covie 
 to  you."  He  speaks  now  of  liimself,  jxist  as  he  had  before 
 spoken  of  the  Spirit :  "  Yet  a  little  vjhile,  and  the  ivoi'ld  seeth  me 
 no  Tiu/rc,  bi(t  ye  see  me;  because  I  live,  and  ye  live;  I  reveal 
 myself  as  the  Living,  to  the  living."  The  world,  cut  oiT  from 
 the  DiA-iue  life,  and  therefore  dead,  knows  nothing  of  Christ, 
 as  the  Living;  it  holds  hiui  dead;  but  to  those  who  are  sus- 
 
SALUTATION  OF  PEACE.  441 
 
 ceptible  of  Di\-ine  communion  of  life  with  him,  he  will  reveal 
 himself  as  the  Li-viug  one. 
 
 He  then  tells  them  that  only  at  the  peiiod  when  they  should 
 reach  this  liigher  communion  with  him,  would  they  be  able 
 fully  to  understand  liis  relation  to  the  Father  and  to  them : 
 '^At  that  day  shall  ye  know  tJuit  I  am  in  my  Fatlier,  and  ye  in 
 om,  and  I  in  you."  Throughout  these  final  discourses,  promises 
 alternate  with  duties;  so  now  he  points  out  an  essential  requi- 
 site on  their  pai-t — ^ove,  proved  in  keeping  his  commandments : 
 "He  tliat  Jmth  (knows  and  preserves)  my  commandments,  and 
 also  heepeth  (faithfully  observes)  i}}jem,  he,  it  is  that  loveth  ine; 
 and  he  that  loveth  vm  shall  he  loved  of  my  Father,  and  I  will  love 
 him  (including  an  active  demonstration  of  love),  and  vyill  mani- 
 fest myself  to  him."  One  of  the  disciples,  yet  blinded  by  carnal 
 expectations,  said  to  him,  "Lord,  Iimv  is  it  that  thou  iinlt  mani- 
 fest thyself  unto  us,  and  not  unto  the  world  i"  This  led  Christ 
 to  say  that  this  manifestation  spoken  of  would  be  made  only 
 to  those  who  should  be  spmtually  susceptible  of  it,  thereby 
 implying  that  it  would  be  entirely  a  spiritual  manifestation 
 (v.  23,  24). 
 
 Finally,  he  referred  them  again  (v.  2Q)  to  the  Holy  Ghost, 
 to  be  sent  through  his  mediation,  who  should  teach  them 
 lightly  to  understand  his  own  (Christ's)  doctrine ;  and  should 
 call  back  to  theu'  memories  anything  wliich  might,  through 
 misimderstanding,  become  darkened  in  their  minds. 
 
 §  275. — CJu-idt's  Salutation  of  Peace  ;  its  Import.  (John  xiv.  27,  seq.) 
 When  about  to  rise  from  the  table,  the  Saviour  pronounced 
 a  blessing,  as  Avas  usual  at  salutation  and  leave-taking :  "Peace 
 I  leave  luith  you,  my  peace  I  give  unto  you."  A  fitting  con- 
 clusion to  the  promises  of  comfort  was  this  farewell  word  of 
 peace.  But,  after  all  that  he  had  promised,  he  could,  even  in 
 view  of  the  approachiug  separation,  and  the  conflicts  and  strifes 
 to  wliich  he  was  about  to  leave  the  disciples,  promise  them  the 
 enjoyment  of  peace.  And  he  told  them  tliat  his  salutation 
 implied  another  peace  than  that  of  the  world :  "Not  as  ilie 
 ivmid  giveth,  give  I  unto  your  Tliis  peace  the  world  has  not, 
 and  therefore  cannot  give.  It  was  peace  in  itself,  a  real  peace, 
 that  he  left  behind  unto  his  own;  a  peace  which  none  but  He 
 possesses,  and  none  can  find  but  in  communion  with  him.  No 
 room  in  them,  therefore,  for  fear  or  disquiet:  '' Let  not  your 
 heart  he  troubled,  neither  let  it  he  afraid." 
 
 Again  he  recurs  to  liis  departiue,  and  remiads  them  of  the 
 
442  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 promise  whicli  ouglit  to  remove  all  tlie  sting  of  sepai-ation : 
 "  Ye  have  heard  how  I  said  unto  yov.,  I  go  away,  and  come  again 
 iinto  you.  If  ye  loved  me,  ye  would  rejoice  because  I  said,  I  go 
 unto  the  Father,  foi'  tlie  Father  is  greater  tlian  I."  He  went ; 
 but  it  was  to  return  in  greater  glorj.  They  could  not  love 
 him,  if  they  did  not  rejoice  at  the  glorious  change;  that  he 
 was  to  leave  the  limits  of  his  earthly  and  visible  human  nature, 
 and  ascend  to  the  Father  Almighty,  in  order  to  operate, 
 thenceforward,  in  union  with  Him,  in  the  power  of  God,  in- 
 visible and  infinite.  1  He  had  foretold  to  them  what  would 
 happen,  that  their  faith  might  not  waver  in  the  evil  hour 
 (v.  29).  He  could  speak  but  a  few  words  more,  as  the  Piince 
 of  this  World  was  coming  (in  his  agents) ;  though  that  Prince 
 had  no  power  over  him,  and  He  could,  if  he  chose,  escape  the 
 power  of  his  foes  (v.  30) ;  but  he  did  not  choose.  Voluntarily 
 he  would  go  to  meet  death,  to  prove,  in  the  face  of  the  world, 
 his  love  to  the  Father,  by  completing  the  work  committed  to 
 him  by  the  Father  (v.  31). 
 
 And  then  he  called  them  to  arise  from  table,  and  go  with 
 him  to  the  final  conflict. 
 
 CHAPTER  lY. 
 
 DISCOURSES  OF  CHRIST  AFTER  RISIN'G  FROM  TABLE  AT  THE  LAST 
 
 SUPPER. 
 
 §  276. — Similitude  of  the  Vine  and  Branches. — The  Law  of  Love.     (John  xv.) 
 
 There  were  many  thoughts  which  his  mind  and  heart  yet 
 laboured  to  poiu*  forth.  After  leaving  the  table  he  began  to 
 discourse  anew,  and  called  their  attention  specially  to  two 
 thoughts:  (1.)  That  the  relation  which  had  subsisted  between 
 them  was  to  remain,  -sAdth  tliis  difierence  only,  that,  instead  of 
 external  dependence  and  connexion,  they  would  be  internally 
 alUed  to  and  dependent  on  him ;  (2.)  That  they  must  now  be- 
 come self-active  agents  for  the  spread  of  the  kingdom  of  God, 
 but  that  they  could  only  become  such  by  continued  commiuiiou 
 and  fellowship  with  him. 
 
 To  illustrate  these  jjoiuts,  he  made  use  of  the  sinuhtude  of  a 
 Vine:  God,  the  vine-dresser;  Christ,  the  vine;  his  followei*s, 
 the  branches.  The  fructifying  sap  flows  from  the  vine-stock 
 through  all  the  branches,  and  without  it  they  can  produce  no 
 
 1  As  Liiclcc  and  Kling  (loc.  cit.)  have  remarked,  this  passaige  can  only 
 be  applied  to  the  relation  between  God,  as  the  Almighty,  and  Jesna,  as 
 man,  standing  then  before  his  disciples,  in  the  narrow  form  of  humanity. 
 
THE  YIXE  A^"D  BRANCHES.  443 
 
 fnxit ;  so  the  followers  of  Christ  can  only  obtain,  by  inward 
 and  inseparable  communion  with  liim,  the  Di^-ine  life  which 
 can  lit  them  to  be  productive  laboiu'ers  in  the  kingdom  of  God. 
 Tlie  branches  wither  when  torn  from  the  Yvae  and  deprived  of 
 its  vital  sap ;  so,  also,  the  disciples  of  Clirist  live  and  prosper  only 
 in  continuous  commvmion  with  him.  But  as  the  branches  show, 
 by  bearing  fruit,  that  they  have  sliared  in  the  fructifying  power 
 from  the  vine-stock ;  so  the  chsciples  of  Christ  must  show  their 
 participation  in  the  Divine  life  through  commvmion  with  Him, 
 by  abundant  and  fruitful  labom-s  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  The 
 vine-dresser  cuts  off'  all  useless  branches,  which,  like  mere  ex- 
 crescences, consimie  the  vital  power  of  the  vine,  without  bear- 
 ing fruit;  so  AviU  all  those  who  do  not  manifest  the  Divine  life 
 in  fruitful  works,  pro'V'ing,  by  this  deficiency,  that  their  com- 
 munion with  Christ  is  not  real,  but  apparent,  be  cut  off  from 
 the  kingdom  of  God.*'  But  even  the  productive  branches  stand 
 in  constant  need  of  the  vine-dresser's  care ;  all  exiiberant 
 growth  must  be  trimmed ;  all  excrescences  hindering  the 
 course  of  the  vital  sap  must  be  pared  away ;  so,  also,  the  dis- 
 ciples, even  those  who  enjoy  the  Divine  life  in  communion 
 ^vith  Christ,  must  be  purified  constantly  from  foreign  elements, 
 that  there  may  be  no  obstacles  to  the  development  of  the  Divine 
 life  AAdthin  them,  or  of  the  outward  acti^dty  corresponding  to  it. 
 It  was  only  by  this  activity  in  communion  with  him  that 
 they  could  prove  themselves  to  be  his  genuine  disciples  (v.  8) ;  ^ 
 by  activity  in  observing  all  his  commandments;*  and  again  he 
 condenses  all  "the  commandments"  into  love  (v.  9-14).  Such 
 love  they  were  to  show  to  each  other  as  he,  laying  down  his 
 life,  had  shown  to  them.  In  thus  communicating  to  the  dis- 
 ciples the  whole  counsel  of  the  Father  in  regard  to  the  plan  of 
 salvation  through  thefr  agency,  and  in  calling  upon  them  to 
 devote  themselves  to  this  service  as  organs  of  the  Di\-ine  king- 
 dom, with  clear  consciousness  and  free  self-determination,  he 
 removes  them  from  the  .stand- point  of  "servants"  and  takes 
 them  up  to  that  of  "friends"  (v.  15)." 
 
 ■■  Tlie  same  thought  as  "He  who  hath,  to  him  shall  bo  given,"  &o. 
 pp.  109,  202. 
 
 '  Mark  the  inner  connexion  between  these  discourses  and  those  recorded 
 in  the  first  three  Gospels.  The  same  demand  is  implied  in  the  parables  of 
 the  talents  and  the  pound  (pp.  384,  411)  as  in  this  similitude  of  the  v-ine. 
 
 '  Hence  "the  commandments"  are  not  "the  lettcT  of  the  law  ;"  where 
 there  is  life,  rooted  in  communion  with  Clirist,  it  cannot,  according  to  its 
 very  essence,  manifest  itself  otherwise  except  in  works  corresponding  to 
 the  law.  "  Cf  p.  126. 
 
444  Christ's  last  discourses. 
 
 United  to  eacli  other  in  love,  they  must  also  be  hated  in 
 common  by  the  world ;  the  world  must  feel  to  them  as  to  their 
 Master.  He  jiredicts  the  persecutions  that  await  them.  He 
 sees  before  him  the  contlict  of  Christianity  -with  all  existing 
 institutions  (v.  18-23) J 
 
 §  277. — Promue  of  the  Hohj  Ghost. — Concluding  Words  of  Comfurt  to  the 
 Discij)l(s.     (John  xvi.  7-33.) 
 
 But  he  fiu-ther  promises,^  that  in  all  their  conflicts  they 
 shall  have  the  Holy  Ghost  for  a  helper.'^  The  Holy  Ghost  was 
 to  accomplish,  throiigh  them,  all  things  necessaiy  for  the 
 spread  of  the  Di^'ine  kingdom.  The  process  he  states  as  fol- 
 lows: The  Holy  Ghost  "«"ill  convmce  the  world  of  sin,  and 
 show  that  imbelief  is  the  ground  of  sin ;  and  further,  will  con- 
 \-ince  the  world  that  Christ  did  not  die  as  a  sinner,  but,  as  the 
 Holy  One,  ascended  to  his  Father  in  heaven,  most  perfectly 
 manifesting  His  righteotisness  in  his  death,  and  in  the  exalta- 
 tion to  God  which  followed  it;  indeed,  all  that  are  convinced 
 of  sin  will  recognize  him  as  the  Holy  One,  and  the  som-ce  of 
 all  holiness  in  men.  So  he  will  gradually  con-vince  the  world 
 of  judgment ;  that  Satan,  so  long  niler  of  the  world,  has  been 
 judged  J  that  evU  has  lost  its  sway,  and  therefore  can  cause  no 
 fear  to  such  as  hold  communion  -with  Christ.  These,  then,  are 
 the  three  great  elements  of  the  process :  the  consciousness  of 
 sin;  of  the  righteousness  of  Christ,  the  Redeemer  from  sin;  of 
 the  impotency  of  e'vil  (judgment)  in  opposition  to  the  kingdom 
 of  God.  And  to  be  conscious  of  sin ;  to  know  Christ  as  the 
 Holy  Redeemer;  and  the  kingdom  of  God  as  the  conqueror  of' 
 evW,  which  shall  finally  subdue  all  things  to  itself:  this  is  the 
 whole  essence  of  Christianity. 
 
 Christ  had  many  things  to  say  of  his  doctrine  which  the  dis- 
 ciples wei'e  not  then  in  a  condition  to  understand.  But  he 
 was  just  about  to  leave  them;  and  therefore  he  pointed  them 
 to  the  Spirit  of  Tnith,  which  was  to  unfold  all  the  truth  he 
 had  proclaimed.  It  was  not  to  announce  any  -new  doctiine ; 
 but  to  open  the  truth  of  his  doctiine;  to  glorify  Him  (v.  14) 
 in  them,  by  developing  the  full  sense  of  what  He  had  taught 
 them.  Again  he  passes  from  the  gi\ing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  to 
 bis  own  communion  with  them,  i-epeating  what  he  had  before 
 
 ^  Not  "  peace,"  but  a  "  sword,"  as  in  the  synoptical  Gospels  ;  of.  p.  347. 
 
 "^  Of.  pp.  439,  440. 
 
 ^  Cf.  p.  122,  on  the  two-fold  relation  of  the  disciples,  (1.)  As  individual 
 witnesses  of  Christ's  ministry  ;  (2.)  As  organs  of  the  spirit,  like  believers 
 in  general. 
 
THE  WORK  OF  THE  SPIRIT.  445 
 
 said,  "A  little  while  and  ye  sludl  not  see  me,  ancl  again  a  little 
 tchile  and  ye  shall  see  me,  because  I  go  to  (lie  Fatlter''  (inasmuch 
 as  his  "  going  to  the  Father"  was  to  be  the  groiuid  of  the  new 
 spiritual  communion).!'  And,  again,  some  of  them  expressed 
 the  surprise  of  theii*  conti-acted  minds  at  his  words  (v.  17). 
 Jesus,  seeing  their  uncex-tainty,  developed  the  thought  still 
 fiu-ther.  He  told  them  they  should  be  sorrowful  for  a  season, 
 but  their  sorrow  would  be  tm-ned  into  permanent  joy.  Their 
 transient  pains,  like  those  of  a  woman  in  travail,  would  be  the 
 birth-throes  of  a  new  creation  within  them.  "And  ye  now, 
 therefore,  have  soitow;  but  I  will  see  you  again,  and  your 
 heart  shall  rejoice,  and  your  joy  no  man  taketh  from  you." 
 
 '■'Ami  in  tliat  day  ye  sludl  ask  me  nothing;"  they  would  no 
 more  need  his  sensible  presence  to  ask  of  liim  as  they  had  been 
 wont.  "  Wliatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the  Father  in  my  •name  (in  con- 
 scious communion  through  Chiist's  mediation),  lie  unllgive  it  yoxC^ 
 (The  father  would  reveal  all  things  needfol  to  them  through 
 Christ's  mediation;  clearing  up  all  obscuiities,  and  supplying 
 the  place  of  his  corporeal  presence.)  Up  to  that  time  (v.  24), 
 not  having  yet  obtained  confidence  of  commmiion.  ^vith  the 
 Father  through  Christ,  they  had  asked  notliing  of  Him  ;  but 
 then  they  should  ask,  and  receive,  that  theii*  joy  might  be  fiilL 
 Then,  too,  would  Christ  no  more  speak  unto  them  in  figures  or 
 parables,  but  would  openly  unveil  all  he  had  to  say  to  them  of 
 the  Father.  "  But,"  says  he,  "  I  say  iiot  unto  you  that  I  will 
 pray  the  Father  for  you  ;"  in  their  conscious  communion  with 
 Him  they  would  be  sure  of  the  Fathei''s  love,  and  in  His  name 
 would  address  themselves  directly  to  the  Father. 
 
 At  last  a  ray  of  light  beamed  into  the  souls  of  the  disciples. 
 They  felt  the  impression  of  the  high  things  which  Christ,  in 
 confident  Divinity,  had  just  announced  to  them.  Yet,  as  their 
 language  shows  ^  that  they  did  not  fully  understand  him,  it  was 
 luther  a  feeling  than  a  clearly  developed  consciousness.  Christ 
 cautioned  them  against  tiiisting  it  too  far;  that  the  hour  was 
 at  hand  when  a  faith  of  this  kind  wovdd  give  way  to  a  power- 
 ful impression  of  another  nature ;  that  they  should  be  scattered, 
 
 ^  But  the  promise  certainly  contains  an  allusion  to  his  resurrection, 
 inasmuch  as  his  re-appearance  was  to  the  disciples  the  point  of  transition 
 to  the  state  of  new  spiritual  comnumion. 
 
 '  It  appears  clear  from  v.  29,  30  that  they  understood  the  phrase,  "  Ye 
 shall  ask  me  nothing,"  in  a  sense  ditferent  from  that  which  he  intended. 
 It  may  readily  be  imagined  that  John's  subsequent  better  comprehension 
 of  Christ's  meaning  caused  this  misapprehension  to  appear  remarkable,  and 
 served  to  impress  it  the  more  upon  his  memory. 
 
44  G  CHRIST'S  LAST  DISCOURSES. 
 
 and  leave  him  alone :  "  Yet  not  alone"  said  lie,  "  hecmise  the  Fa- 
 tlier  is  tcith  nie." 
 
 The  aim  of  the  whole  discoiu'se  had  heeii  to  impart  to  the 
 minds  of  the  disciples  a  spring  of  Di-sdue  comfort  amid  their 
 struggles  with  a  hostile  world  for  the  advancement  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God.  He  closed  it  with  a  few  words  of  farewell, 
 embracing  its  whole  scope ;  "  These  things  have  I  spoken  to  you, 
 that  in  (communion  with)  me  ye  might  have  2^006.^  In  the  world 
 ye  shall  have  tribulations;  he  of  good  dieer ;  I  have  overcome  tlie 
 woi'ld"^ 
 
 §  278.— Christ's  Prayer  cts  High-priest.     (John  xvii.) 
 
 With  a  prayer  Christ  concludes  this  last  interview  with  his 
 disciples  j  with  a  prayer  he  prepares  himself  for  the  separation 
 and  the  final  conflict. 
 
 The  import  of  the  prayer  is  the  same  as  that  of  the  dis- 
 course. Conscious  that  his  work  (Adz.  to  glorify  God  in  man) 
 on  earth  is  finished,  he  prays  the  Father  to  take  him  to  him- 
 self, and  glorify  him  Avith  himself  ISTot,  however,  -with  a  selfish 
 aim  or  selfish  longings ;  it  was  to  glorify  the  Father,  and,  what 
 was  inseparable  therefrom,  to  impart  the  Divine  life  to  man- 
 kind: "Glorify  thy  Son,  that  thy  Son  also  may  glorify  tliee;  as 
 thou  hast  given  him  power  over  all  flesh,  that  he  should  give  eter- 
 nal life  to  as  many  as  thou  hast  given  him."'^  But  as  eternal 
 life  is  only  to  be  obtained  by  knowing  the  true  God,  revealed 
 in  Christ,  he  praj's  that  this  knowledge  may  be  difliised  among 
 all  men,  and  so  eternal  life  be  given  to  all. 
 
 Then,  first,  he  prays  for  those  who  had  already  received  this 
 knowledge,  and  were  to  become  instruments  of  its  difiiision 
 among  men.  As  he  is  about  to  leave  the  woidd,  and  to  leave 
 the  disciples  alone  in  it,  he  commends  them  to  the  protecting 
 care  of  the  Father,  to  whom  they  are  consecrated  through  him ; 
 that  the  Divine  communion  of  hfe,  which  he  had  established, 
 might  be  preserved  among  them.  He  commends  them  to  His 
 care,  because  the  world,  in  whose  midst  they  are,  vnW  hate 
 them,  since  they  are  not  of  it.  He  does  not  ask  theu*  removal 
 from  the  world;  that  would   subvert  the  vciy  work  he  had 
 
 "  Inward  peace  ;  Divine  calmness  amid  tbe  struggle  with  the  world. 
 
 ^  The  relation  is  two-fold  :  (1.)  The  inward  life  in  communion  with 
 Clirist,  who  has  overcome  the  Power  of  Evil,  and  gives  his  own  to  share  in 
 his  victory ;  (2)  The  outward  life  in  contact  with  the  W(jrld,  possibly 
 harming,  indeed,  the  outward  man,  but  incapable  of  subduing,  or  disturb- 
 ing the  peace  of,  the  inner  man,  rooted  in  Christ's  fellowship. 
 
 *=  He  considers  those,  and  those  only,  as  truly  his  own  who  follow  the 
 inward  Divine  call,  the  "drawing"  of  the  Father.     Cf.  p.  146. 
 
THE  PBIESTLY  PRAYER.  447 
 
 assigned  tliem,  the  work  of  regenerating  tlie  world  through 
 the  knowledge  of  God  in  Christ ;  he  only  prays  that  they  may 
 be  inwai'dly  separated  from  the  world  and  its  evil  powers,  and 
 sanctified  through  the  truth  he  had  revealed;  that  his  life, 
 sanctified  to  God,  and  given  up  for  them,  might  become  the 
 the  ground  of  theu*  sanctification. 
 
 He  then  extends  his  prayer  to  all  that  may  l^e  brought  to 
 faith  by  their  preaching  (v.  20).  He  pi-ays  that  they  may  be 
 united  in  the  communion  of  life  with  God  wliich  he  had  esta- 
 blished ;  that  by  it  they  may  testify  of  him ;  that  thereby  they 
 might  show  forth  the  glory  of  the  inner  life  given  by  him,  and 
 bear  witness  of  that  love  of  God  (v.  23)  which  they  had  expe- 
 rienced through  him.  (The  true  communion  of  Christ's  dis- 
 cijiles  shows  forth  His  glory,  and  the  glory  which  He  has 
 imparted  to  them;  the  glory,  namely,  of  theii'  whole  i-elation 
 to  God  as  children,  secured  for  them  by  Him.  The  outward 
 appearance  is  the  reflection  of  the  glory  -witliin.'')  He  then 
 prays  (v.  24)  that  all  those  who  are  "given  to  him"  (akeady 
 united  with  him — his  glory  ali-eady  revealed  in  them)  may  be 
 raised  up  to  be  where  He  is,  to  complete  communion  with  him, 
 to  the  beholding  of  his  Divine  glory  (and  this  implies  a  slmre  in 
 that  glory:  for  intuition  and  life  coincide  in  the  Divine). 
 
 This  incomparable  prayer  of  consecration  for  his  o^vn,  and 
 for  all  mankind,  is  closed  with  the  words,  "0  Holy^  Father,  the 
 world  hath  oiot  known  thee  (lost  in  sin,  it  cannot  know  the  Holy 
 One) ;  but  I  have  known  thee  (the  Holy  One  knows  the  Holy 
 One) ;  and  these  have  knoion  that  thou  hast  sent  me  (they  are, 
 therefore,  separated  from  the  world  of  sin,  which  is  estranged 
 from  the  Holy  God)  ;  and  I  liave  declared  unto  them  thy  name 
 (have  revealed  imto  them  Thee,  as  the  Holy  One,  and  not  only 
 as  the  Holy  God,  but  as  the  Holy  Father,  with  whom  they 
 stand  in  child-like  communion),  and  will  declare  it  further  (all 
 that  had  been  revealed  was  but  the  germ,  as  it  were,  of  subse- 
 quent developments) ;  that  the  love  tvherewith  thou  hast  loved  me 
 may  be  in  them,  and  I  in  them  (that  as  they  know.  Thee  more 
 and  more  thi-ough  the  revelations  of  my  Spirit,  they  may,  in 
 communion  with  me,  learn  more  and  more  how  thou  lovest  me 
 and  those  that  belong  to  me)." 
 
 Thus  this  prayer  embraces  the  tvhole  work  of  Christ,  up  to 
 its  final  consummation ;  his  work,  upon  the  basis  laid  down  by 
 
 **  In  all  time  the  spread  of  Christianity  is  most  advanced  by  the  power 
 of  the  Christian  life. 
 
 '  I  translate  ciKaif,  ''lioly  ;"  cf.  xvi.  10  ;  1  John  ii.  29  ;  iii.  7,  10. 
 
448  GETHSEMAXE. 
 
 himself,  continually  canned  on,  until  all  that  submit  to  him 
 shall  be  brought  to  a  share  in  liis  glory — to  a  complete  com- 
 munion of  DiAone  life  with  him.  What  is  expressed  in  the 
 "  Lord's  Prayer"  as  the  object  of  the  prayer  of  believers,  is  here 
 presented  as  the  object  of  liis  own  prayer yjw  believers. 
 
 CHAPTER  V. 
 
 GETHSEMAXE. 
 
 §  279. — Compansnn  of  John's  Gospel  with  the  Sytwptical  GosjxU  in  i-cfjoid 
 to  Jmics'  Conflict  of  Soul,  —  Historical  Crtdilility  of  the  Synoptical 
 Account. 
 
 Full  of  celestial  serenity,  Jesus  went  forth  with  the  dis- 
 ciples, as  was  his  wont,  to  the  garden  at  the  foot  of  the  !Mounfc 
 of  Olives,  to  await  the  coming  of  his  captoi-s.  Various  alter- 
 nations of  feeling  ensued  in  his  soid;  and  in  regard  to  them 
 there  is  an  ob^ious  difference  between  the  synoptical  Gospels 
 and  John ;  the  former  not  mentioning  them  at  all,  the  latter 
 giving  a  partial  account  of  them.  In  modern  times  this  dis- 
 crepancy has  been  supposed  by  some  to  be  irreconcilable;  so 
 much  so,  that  one  side  or  the  other  must  be  maintained,  ac- 
 cording to  the  view  which  we  take  of  the  whole  subject. 
 
 It  is  argued  that  we  cannot  imagine  Clm.st,  who  had  just 
 spoken  with  such  Divine  confidence,  and  had  poured  out  his 
 ?.oul  before  God  in  a  prayer  of  heavenly  calmness  and  assur- 
 ance, as  undergoing,  immediately  after,  such  struggles  of  soul  as 
 are  recorded  in  the  synoptical  Gospels.  But,  lapng  John's 
 Gospel  out  of  the  case,  do  we  not  find  the  same  contrast  in  the 
 other  Gospels  ?  Was  not  all  this  heavenly  elevation,  serenity, 
 and  confidence,  presupposed  in  the  institution  of  the  Euchaiist, 
 according  to  its  deeper  sense  1  Was  not  that  act,  the  pledge 
 of  his  continuing  communion  -with  the  Church,  as  recorded  in 
 the  first  three  Gospels,  as  great  a  proof  of  those  high  thoughts 
 on  wliich  his  calmness  was  founded,  as  is  continued  in  the  final 
 discourse  and  prayer  given  by  John  ?  Nay,  even  in  tliese  last, 
 can  we  not  trace  alternations  of  feeling;  subordinate,  however, 
 to  the  fundamental  and  Divine  tone  ? 
 
 As  for  these  alternations  of  feehng  themselves,  may  we  not 
 conceive,  that  as  in  the  life  of  beUevers,  who  represent  (im- 
 ])erfectly  indeed)  the  image  of  Cluist  on  earth,  calmness  and 
 tumult,  confidence  and  despondency,  alternate  with  each  other 
 under  the  diverse  influence  of  the  outward  world,*^  so  too  there 
 
 /  Cf.  John  the  Baptist. 
 
APPAUENT  DISCREPANCIES.  449 
 
 iniglit  be  similar  fluctuations  (unconnected,  however,  witli  the 
 reactions  of  sin,  which  might  exist  in  believci's  s)  in  the  soul 
 of  Him  who,  with  all  his  Divine  elevation,  was  like  unto  man 
 in  all  things  but  sin,  and  sympathized,  unutterably,  v.ith  all 
 purely  human  feelings  1 '' 
 
 Even  in  Johns  account  of  the  raising  of  Lazarus  wo  find 
 such  alternations  in  the  prominency  of  the  Divinity  and  the 
 humanity  of  Christ;  would  not,  therefore,  similar  manifestations 
 at  the  ajiproach  of  death  be  iu  harmony  with  his  image,  as 
 depicted  by  John  himself?  Moreover,  both  John  and  Luke 
 alluded  to  the  heghiniags  of  this  struggle  of  soul  at  diiferent 
 times  before;^  momentary,  however,  and  soon  followed  by  the 
 accustomed  confidence  of  Diidnity.  In  John  xiii.  21,J  we  find 
 Jesus  "  troubled  in  spirit "  in  contemplating  Judas.  It  would 
 be  contrary  to  all  analogy,  then,  that  such  moments  should 
 not  occur,  even  with  increased  intensity,  amid  the  ever-accu- 
 mulating pangs  both  of  soul  and  body  that  he  endured  up  to 
 tlie  moment  of  the  final  and  triumphant  exclamation.  "  But," 
 it  will  i)crhaps  be  said,  "according  to  John's  account,  there 
 toas  no  struggle  of  soul  at  last."  How,  then,  could  John 
 record  Christ's  "  ti-oubie  of  soid"  (xii.  27)  in  view  of  the  last 
 hour,  and  his  wish'^  (xiii.  27)  that  the  catastrophe  might  bo 
 hastened  ? 
 
 The  account  of  the  agony  in  the  garden,  taken  from  the 
 other  Gospels,  can  be  aptly  inserted  in  John's  narrative. 
 "  But  why,  then,  does  John  not  record  it?"  It  is  enough  to 
 say,  in  reply  to  this,  that  his  object  was,  not  to  give  a  com- 
 plete biography,  but  to  arrange  a  number  of  separate  features 
 of  the  great  picture,  according  to  a  peculiar  point  of  view.  If 
 John,  having  intimated  the  beginnings  of  this  struggle  in  the 
 soul  of  Jesus,  preferred,  instead  of  ilelineating  all  its  subsequent 
 stages,  to  picture  forth  the  Divine  elevation  of  Christ  as  shown 
 in  his  last  discourses,  can  we  infer  any  thing  from  tliis,  except 
 
 p  Cf.  pp.  sn,  83. 
 
 ''  Thus  (lid  that  genuine  disciple  of  Christ,  JoHX  Hu?;s,  who  had  formed 
 his  life  ui)ou  the  intuition  of  Christ's  example,  learn  from  the  experience  of 
 his  own  last  struggles  how  to  comprehend  these  opposite  manifestations  in 
 the  Saviour's  life.  AVith  reference  to  siich  alternations  in  his  own  expe- 
 rience, he  wTites  :  "  Pro  certo  grave  est,  imperturbate  gaudere,  et  omne 
 gaudium  existimare,  in  variis  tentationibus.  Leve  est  loqui  et  illud 
 exponere,  sed  grave  implere.  Siquidem  patientissimus  et  f.>rtissimus 
 miles,  sciens  (juod  die  tertia  esset  resurrecturus,  et  per  mortem  suani 
 vincens  ininiicos,  post  coenam  idtimam  turbatus  est  spiritu  et  dixit, — 
 tristis  est  anima,  u.-que  ad  mortem." 
 
 >  Cf.  pp.  345,  41(5.  J  Cf.  p.  4-29.  ''  Cf.  p.  430. 
 
 2  G 
 
450  GETHSEMAXE. 
 
 that  in  liis  delineation  certain  features  of  Christ's  picture  are 
 more  prominent  than  others  1  Throughout,  it  is  the  method 
 of  John's  Grospel  to  present  connected  chains  of  Christ's  dis- 
 courses and  acts,  rather  than  isohited  incidents,  however 
 characteristic,  such  as  we  hnd  in  the  other  Evangelists. 
 Moreover,  as  an  eye-witness  of  this  last  sti'uggle,  he  was  not 
 in  a  state  of  mind  to  perceive,  and  subsequently  to  describe, 
 it  as  a  whole.  It  must  not  be  inferred,  however,  from  this  last 
 remark,  that  the  disciples  could  not  have  remembei-ed,  and 
 faithfully  recorded,  individual  features  that  made  a  deep  im- 
 pression upon  them. 
 
 Let  us  now  dwell  for  a  moment  iipon  the  credibility  of  the 
 syno]»tical  account.  It  agi-ees  entirely  with  Heb.  v.  7,  which 
 was  founded  upon  direct  Apostolical  tradition.  How  can  it 
 be  conceived  that  such  a  description  of  Clirist's  agony  coiJd 
 have  arisen  from  an  invented  legend,  intended  to  glorify  him  % 
 Nor  can  it  be  said  that  it  was  made  up  by  collecting  and 
 putting  together  the  various  types  and  prophecies  of  the  Old 
 Testament  that  jirefigured  such  an  agony ;  after  the  description 
 was  extant,  as  history,  it  wa.s  natural  that  these  should  be 
 gathered  up,  and  doctx'inal  reasons  assigned  for  the  agony 
 itself ;  but  hfore,  its  invention  would  have  been  utterly  incon- 
 sistent with  the  idea,  generally  prevalent,  of  the  gloiy  of 
 Messiah.  In  the  representations  of  the  Evangelists,  particu- 
 larly Matthew,  we  can  detect  no  aim  biit  an  historical  one ;  not 
 a  trace  of  doctrimd  motives  can  be  discovered ;  only  at  a  later 
 period  wei'e  such  thrust  upon  them  by  that  wilfulness  which 
 can  find  in  a  narrative  anything  it  chooses. 
 
 It  was  easy,  indeed,  from  a  natund  point  of  view,  to  find  a 
 contradiction  between  such  expressions  of  human  weakness  on 
 the  part  of  Christ,  and  his  miracle-working  power,  his  conscious 
 dignity  as  INIessiah  or  as  the  Son  of  God,  his  foreknowledge  of 
 his  resurrection,  &c.  Nor  could  such  a  contradiction  ever  have 
 natv.raUy  arisen  from  an  idealizing  invention.  It  was  precisely 
 with  a  view  to  do  it  away  as  a  ground  of  objection,  that  a 
 Docetlc  Christ  was  afterward  conceived  in  ]ilace  of  the  real 
 Christ ;  or,  his  human  nature  was  sundered  from  the  Di^^ne. 
 The  Dirinity,  the  Divine  Logos,  was  recognized  in  the  miracles 
 and  lofty  discourses ;  l)ut  it  was  feigned  that  this  Logos,  the 
 true  Redeemer^  withdrew  from  Christ  during  his  sufferings. 
 
 Such  a  Christ,  indeed,  as  the  real  Christ,  was  always  a  stone 
 of  stmnbling  for  Je^\-ish  modes  of  thought.  How  much,  there- 
 fore, must  the  author  of  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews  have  been 
 
THE  AGONY.  451 
 
 concerned  to  remove  this  rock  of  offence,  and  to  prove  that 
 these  very  struggles  belonged  necessarily  to  the  Messianic 
 calling  ?  To  lie  sure,  after  the  idea  of  Messiah  had  once  been 
 modilied  according  to  the  real,  historical  Christ,  and  the  minds 
 of  men  had  thereby  received  a  new  tendency,  it  was  easy  to 
 find  the  higher  unity  for  all  these  contradictions,  and  combine 
 them  all  into  the  one  idea.  But  Ave  can  by  no  means  infer 
 from  this  possibiUty  its  converse,  viz.  that  the  new  idea,  sud- 
 denly arising  like  a  Deus  ex  machina,  could  have  given  birth 
 to  such  an  historical  representation  of  Christ. 
 
 §  280. — TheAffony  in  the  Garden.  (Matt,  xx^^.  ;  Mark  xiv.  ;  Luke  xxii.) 
 In  i)rayer  and  retirement  Christ  had  prepared  himself  for 
 the  beginning  of  his  public  ministry;  in  prayer  and  retirement 
 he  now  pi-epared  to  close  liis  calling  on  earth.  Ai^  then,  so 
 now,  before  entering  upon  the  outward  conflict,  he  jiassed 
 through  it  in  the  inward  struggles  of  his  soul.  TJien  he  had 
 in  spirit  gained  the  Aictoxy,  before  he  appeared  openly  among 
 men  a  conqueror;  noio  the  conquest  of  suffering  was  achieved 
 within,  before  the  final,  outward  triumph. 
 
 Arrived  at  the  garden,  he  took  apart  Peter,  James,  and 
 John,  his  three  best-loved  disciples,  to  be  the  honoured 
 witnesses  of  liis  prayer,  and  to  pray  with  him.  From  the 
 natui-e  of  the  case,  we  could  not  have  so  fiill  an  account  of  tliis 
 as  of  his  prayer  for  his  disciples  (John  xvii.).  In  the  pains  of 
 suffering  that  are  2:)ressing  upon  liim  he  prays,  "  Father,  ij  it  he 
 possible,  let  this  cup  passjrom  me.''''  Biit  this  feeling  could  not 
 for  a  moment  shake  his  .submission  to  the  Divine  \nl\.  All 
 other  feelings  are  absorbed  in  the  fundamental  longing,  "  Thy 
 loill  he  done."  The  Divinity  is  distiuguished  fi-om  the 
 Humanity;  and  by  this  distinction  their  imity,  in  the  sub- 
 ordination of  the  one  to  the  other,  was  to  be  made  prominent. 
 As  a  man,  he  might  wish  to  be  spai'ed  the  sufieriugs  that 
 awaited  liim,  even  though  from  a  higher  point  of  view  he  saw 
 their  necessity ;  just  as  a  Christian  may  be  con\-inced  that  he 
 ought  to  make  a  certain  sacrifice  in  the  service  of  God,  and  yet, 
 in  darkei'  moments,  his  purely  liimian  feelings  may  rise  against 
 it,  until  his  conWction,  and  his  will  guided  by  his  couAdction, 
 at  last  prevail.  It  was  not  merely  that  Christ's  phi/sical  nature 
 had  to  stniggle  with  death,  and  S2cch  a  death,  but  his  soul  had  to 
 be  moved  to  its  depths  by  sympathy  with  the  sufierings  of 
 mankind  on  account  of  sin.^    Thus  the  wish  might  aiise  within 
 
 :    '  By  the  "cup"  we  must  understand  not  only  lis  suffering  of  death,  but 
 
 2g2 
 
452  GETnSElI.^^'E. 
 
 him,  as  a  man,  to  be  spared  that  bitter  cup ;  only  on  condition, 
 however,  that  the  will  of  God  could  be  done  in  some  other  way. 
 But  the  conviction  that  this  could  not  be,  immediately  followed ; 
 he  knew,  from  the  beginning,"'  that,  according  to  the  })lan  of 
 Di\T.ne  wisdom,  the  kingdom  of  God  was  to  be  founded  through 
 his  self-sacrifice  in  the  struggle  with  the  sins  of  the  people ;  and 
 he  submitted  to  what  he  knew  was  the  will  of  God  and  the 
 work  of  his  life." 
 
 As  a  proof  how  little  the  higher  calmness  of  Lis  spirit  wa-s 
 disturbed  by  these  upi'isings  of  human  feeling,  wc  find  him,  a, 
 moment  after  the  first  struggle,  caruig  for  his  yet  vreak 
 disciples.  Finding  them  overcome  A\"ith  sleep,  he  roused  them, 
 saying,  "  Could  ye  not  watch  with  me  one  liour  ?  Watch  aud 
 2yTay,  that  ye  enter  not  into  temptation  (that  the  outvrard  temp- 
 tation become  not  an  inward  one  °) ;  for,  tlwixjh  the  spirit  is 
 willing  (as  in  their  fulness  of  love,  when  danger  was  not 
 pressing  upon  them,  they  had  declared  themselves  ready  to 
 suflier  all  things  with  him  and  for  him),  the  Jlesh  is  VJcaJc." 
 (The  impressions  of  outward  danger  may  affect  the  flesh  so 
 strongly  as  to  bear  dowai  the  spirit ;  there  is  need,  therefore, 
 of  Divine  power,  gained  by  i')rayer,  to  streug-then  the  spiiit 
 amid  these  fearful  impressions,  that  it  may  trium|»h  over  the 
 v/eakness  of  the  flesh.) 
 
 Again  he  bends  in  prayer.  And  noio  he  docs  not  say,  "  If 
 it  be  possible,  let — ;"  but,  penetrated  by  the  conviction  that 
 the  coimsel  of  Divine  Wisdom  demands  the  sacrifice,  "  0  my 
 Father,  if  this  cup  tmiy  not  pass  away  from  me  except  I  drink 
 it,  Thy  will  he  done."  And  the  third  time  he  repents  the  same 
 wortls.  The  ^'ictory  of  his  soid  was  gained ;  the  struggle  wa.s 
 over-,  until  the  brief  conflict  of  the  final  pang.     Finding  the 
 
 all  that  preceded  and  followed  it :  the  treason  of  Juda-^i,  tlie  rage  of  Cliri-st's 
 eneniic-s,  the  delusion  of  the  multitude.  It  is  not  my  oliject  here  to  set 
 forth  the  higher  doctrinal  and  theological  import  of  tlie  death  of  Christ ; 
 yet  I  agree  heartily  in  tlie  following,  from  iMtiu'ieys  beautiful  dissertation 
 on  Christ's  agony  "(Ttihing.  Zeitschrift,  ISoS,  i.  U5,  Dti) :  "  While,  on  tlie 
 one  hand,  in  a  sinful  nature,  the  conviction  that  death  is  .a  judgment  for 
 sin  is  blunted  in  proportion  as  the  power  of  sin  in  the  indiv-idual  is  greater, 
 and  the  sense  of  its  guilt  les.-3 ;  in  a  word,  in  proportion  as  tlie  harmonic 
 unity  of  life  is  disturbed  by  sin,  so  much  the  more  powerful,  on  the  otlier 
 hand,  in  a  sinlc-^s  human  nature,  in  wliich  the  unity  of  life's  harmony  is 
 undisturbed,  must  l)e  the  conviction  tliat  death  in  a  judgment  for  siu,  a 
 dis.-olution  and  separation,  not  originally  belonging  to  human  nature,  of 
 elements  which  in  all  stages  of  the  development  of  life  belong  together." 
 I  can  make  this  agree,  also,  with  the  view  of  the  connexion  between  sin 
 a,nd  death  presented  in  my  "  A])ostol.  Zeitalter,"  vol.  ii. 
 
 »•  Of.  p.  84.  °  Cf.  p.  379.  "  Cf.  p.  225. 
 
THE  ARREST.  453 
 
 disciples  still  asleep,  he  said  to  them,  "  Sleep  on  now ;  I  will  p 
 rouse  you  no  more  to  watch  and  pray  with  me ;  but  your  sleep 
 shall  he  rudely  disturbed ;  for  behold,  the  hour  of  my  suliering 
 is  at  hand.     Already  my  captors  are  near." 
 
 §  281.— r/(C  Arrest  of  Christ.— Pc'rr's  IlaMc,  and  its  Rcfiroof.—The  Poiom- 
 of  Darkness, 
 
 Judas  approached  with  a  band  of  armed  servitors  of  the 
 Sanhedrim  and  a  part  of  a  Roman  cohort  from  the  garx-ison, 
 the  latter  as  a  guard  against  a  disturbance  from  the  sympathy 
 of  the  people.  Probably  the  traitor  alone  knew  ivho  was  to 
 be  apprehended  ;i  as  there  was  good  reason  (supposed,  at 
 least)  for  secrecy  in  the  procedure.  Jesus  did  not  wait  for 
 Judas  and  the  band  to  enter  the  garden.  With  majestic 
 calmness  he  went  to  meet  them,  and  asked,  "  Whom  seek  ye?" 
 His  sudden  appearance  in  calm  majesty,  associated  with  the 
 impressions  of  his  life  and  the  authority  of  liis  name  as,  at 
 least,  a  prophet,  so  deeply  affected  a  part  of  the  band  (not  the 
 Roman  soldiers'")  that  they  recoiled  and  fell  on  the  ground 
 b(!fore  him.  In  their  ]ier})lexity  they  then  prepared  to  seize 
 the  disciples,  perhaps  because  they  made  show  of  defending 
 their  JMaster.  The  rash  Peter  hastily  gave  way  to  impulse ; 
 without  waiting  to  know  the  Master's  will,  he  made  use  of  the 
 sword.  Christ  sharply  rebuked  his  precipitancy:  "All  thai 
 take   the  sword  (uncalled,   as  here,  in  resistance  to  authority 
 
 ''  The  words  to  Xoctoj',  in  Matt.  xxvi.  45,  compel  tis  to  take  these 
 words  as  a  warning,  or  reproof;  otherwise  the  word  KaBcvci-e  might  be 
 taken  as  the  indicative,  with  or  without  interrogation. 
 
 1  We  may  the  more  expect  differences  in  the  four  accounts  here,  from 
 the  state  of  mind  in  which  the  di.-ciples  must  necessarily  have  been.  Dis- 
 crepancies, even  if  irreconcileable  in  points  of  detail,  do  not  impeach  the 
 Teracity  of  the  essential  features  of  a  narrative  ;  but  in  tliis  case  they  are 
 not  so  irreconcileable  as  has  been  supposed.  According  to  John,  whom  we 
 have  followed,  Judas  and  the  band  remained  outside,  and  Jesus  went  out 
 and  gave  himself  u)i  :  the  other  Evangelists  report  that  Judas  gave  the 
 signal  by  a  kiss.  But  as  John's  account  gives  no  reason  at  all  for  Judas 's 
 coming,  and  as  it  could  Tiot  have  been  to  show  tlie  way  to  the  garden,  we 
 must  suppose  it  was  impelled  by  pure  hatred,  or  by  a  desire  to  see  the  end 
 of  the  matter  (this  would  suit  the  view  that  he  did  not  betray  Jesus  with 
 hostile  intent,  and  expected  a  miracle),  or  that  he  came  to  point  out  the 
 person  to  be  seized,  and  this  leads  us  directly  to  the  statement  of  the  other 
 Gospels.  The  sign  agreed  upon  may  have  been  omitted,  or  given  at  the 
 wrong  moment,  in  the  confusion  of  his  mind,  produced  by  a  bad  conscience 
 and  a  reverence  that  he  could  not  get  rid  of ;  so  that  the  different  accounts 
 may  entirely  harmonize.  In  any  case,  John's  statement  is  the  mor« 
 simple,  and  we  rely  upon  it. 
 
 ■■  Had  these  cared  at  all  about  the  matter,  they  would  not  have  Berved 
 as  instruments  of  the  Jewish  authorities. 
 
454  GETHSEMAXE. 
 
 that  is  to  be  respected  as  the  ordinance  of  God)  sJudl  perish 
 by  tlie  sword  (as  a  judgment  for  rebellion  against  the  order  of 
 God  ;  a  wai*ning  against  the  use  of  force  to  defend  his  cause 
 against  the  state) ;  thinkest  t/wu  that  I  cannot  noio  jyray  to  iny 
 Father,  and  he  shall  presently  give  me  more  tluin  twelve  ^  legions 
 of  angels  ?  (This  he  could  only  have  done  had  the  Divine  will 
 been  so.)  Tlie  cup  which  my  luit/ier  luith  given  me,  shall  I  not 
 drink  it  ?^  (not  the  human  choice,  but  the  higher  necessity, 
 must  iircvail.)" 
 
 Turning  then  to  the  baud,  he  said  to  them,  more  than  once, 
 "  I  am  he  whom  ye  seek ;  lot  these  go  theii-  way."  And  this 
 sajdng — supported  by  that  authority  Avhich  had  so  imi)ressed 
 them,  that  they  would  not  have  ventured  to  lay  liands  on  him 
 had  he  nut  given  himself  u}i — this  saying  caused  them  to  let 
 the  disciples  go,  and  to  take  no  vengeance  on  Peter,  exasperated 
 as  they  were  by  his  resistance." 
 
 "VVlien  the  person  of  Jesus  was  secured,  he  said,  further, 
 "Are  ye  come  out,  as  against  a  tliief,  -wdth  armed  bands,  to 
 take  me  ?  When  I  was  daily  with  you  in  the  Temple,  ye 
 stretched  forth  no  hands  against  me ;  but  this  is  your  hoiu*,  and 
 the  power  of  darkness."^'  During  his  jtublic  teaching  none 
 ventured  to  assail  him.  The  power  of  darkness  .shims  the  light 
 of  day.  The  Sanhedrim  found  the  night  the  fitting  time  to 
 execute  their  schemes;  the  ])olicy  that  spiings  from  darkness, 
 and  serves  it,  must  not  show  itself  in  ojien  day.  Perha}>s  the 
 words  also  allude  to  the  brief  duration  of  the  jjowcr  of  evil.^*' 
 
 *  Instead  of  the  Twelve  Apostles,  who  made  show  of  defending  him. 
 
 '  John  xviii.  11,  referring  to  the  prayer  in  the  garden.  Tlie  preceding 
 words,  omitted  hy  John,  are  strongly  characteri.stic  of  the  Spirit  of  Christ. 
 
 "  It  is  mentioned  by  all  the  Evangelists  that  Peter  cut  ott'  the  ear  of  the 
 high-priest's  sen'ant.  It  cannot  but  appear  surprising  tliat  this  arbitrary 
 act  produced  no  more  serious  consec|uences  to  the  rash  Apostle.  The 
 healing  of  the  ear,  mentioned  by  Luke,  might  serve  as  an  explanation  ; 
 but  John  s.iys  nothing  about  it.  His  naiTative,  liowever,  e.xplains  all  in 
 the  way  given  by  us  in  the  text ;  and  its  veracity,  therefore,  is  confirmed 
 by  comparison  with  the  other  Gospels. 
 
 "  Christ  was  always  fain  to  point  from  the  sensible  to  the  spiritual ;  and 
 as  the  time  chosen  to  execute  the  work  of  darkness  here  gave  occasion  for 
 such  a  connexion,  we  join  the  two  together. 
 
 "  In  any  event,  this  passage  refers  to  the  futile  attempts  l)efore  made  to 
 secure  the  arrest  of  Christ  of  which  John  informs  us  ;  it  belongs,  also,  to 
 that  class  of  passages  which  «in  only  be  clearly  understood  in  the  light  of 
 John's  representation  of  the  history  (cf.  pp.  240,  322).  John  x\-iii.  20,  is 
 certainly  not  so  .similar  to  the  above  pas.sage  as  to  justify  the  inference, 
 which  some  have  drawn,  that  the  one  is  but  a  variation  of  the  other. 
 True,  in  Luke  xxii.  52,  the  words  ai-e  addres.sed  to  the  chief  priests,  &c., 
 
BEFORE  AXXAS.  455 
 
 CHAPTER  YI. 
 
 THE  TRIAL  AND  CONDEMXATIOX. 
 §  282. — Night  Examination  Icfure  Annas. 
 
 Ix  the  meantime,  the  high-priest,  Caiaphas,  informed  of 
 what  had  passed,  had  summoned  a  council  of  the  Sanhechim 
 at  his  palace  for  the  trial  of  Jesus.  As  this  could  not  be  ac- 
 complished until  daybreak,  Jesus  was  taken  before  Ananos,  or 
 Annas,  the  former  high-priest,  lather-in-law  of  Caiaphas,  for  a 
 preliminary  examination.^ 
 
 Annas  began  with  questions  about  his  followers  and  liis 
 doctrine.  But  Christ  gave  no  satisfactory  replies.  And  this 
 was  fully  consistent  with  his  dignity;  for  he  knew  that  the 
 questions  were  put,  not  to  elicit  truth,  but  to  extort  something 
 that  might  be  used  against  him ;  that  the  decision  was  as  good 
 
 wliich  could  not  be  literally  true  ;  but  we  explain  this  on  the  gi-ound  that 
 they  were  addressed  through  the  instruments  to  the  real  captors,  the  San- 
 hedrim ;  and  not  on  the  ground  of  an  interchange  with  Jolm  xviii.  20. 
 
 "  In  Luke  xxii.  66,  we  find  that  some  time  elapsed  Ijetween  the  ai'rest 
 and  the  meeting  of  the  Council  ;  the  latter  occun-ing  "  as  soon  as  it  was 
 day."  This  accounts  for  the  arraignment  before  Annas,  mentioned  only 
 by  John  (xviii.  13).  As  for  the  invention  of  such  a  fact  as  this,  the  idea  is 
 absurd  ;  there  could  be  no  motive  for  it ;  and  John  himself  only  relates  it 
 by  the  way.  The  mention  of  such  minute  incidents,  however,  prove  him 
 to  have  been  an  eye-witness. — (Note  to  ed.  4th.)  BlccFs  review  of  L'brard 
 has  led  me  to  re-examine  this  subject.  I  cannot  think  John  would  have 
 given  such  prominence  to  the  arraignment  l)efore  Caiaphas  had  he  not  meant 
 to  unfold  this  preparatory  trial  ftirther  ;  and,  therefore,  cannot  suppose  that, 
 in  xviii.  19-23,  he  records  tlie  official  examination  before  the  Council.  In 
 that  case  he  certainly  would  liave  dwelt  upon  it  more,  and  made  more  of 
 it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  easy  to  understand  that  he  omitted  the  latter 
 examination,  because  generally  known  by  other  traditions,  and  gave  the 
 one  which  was  least  known.  In  fact,  this  is  presupposed  in  the  examina- 
 tion before  Pilate,  as  recorded  by  him,  when  comj)ared  •with  the  account  of 
 tJie  trial  before  the  Council  in  the  other  Evangelists.  In  xviii.  13,  express 
 mention  is  made  of  Caiaphas  as  apxufuvt:  "for  that  year,"  to  distinguish 
 him  from  Annas,  who  bore  the  same  title.  In  v.  14  he  cites  the  declara- 
 tion of  Caiaphas  (notable  as  coming  from  the  lips  of  the  Head  of  Eccle- 
 siastical affliirs  during  the  year  in  which  Clirist  suffered)  in  view  of  the 
 omission  of  the  full  trial  before  him.  In  v.  24,  after  the  examination,  it 
 is  stated  that  Annas  "  sent  him  t"  Caiaphas,  the  actual  higli-priest." 
 Perhaps  the  leading  out  of  Christ  occasioned  one  of  Aimas's  servants  to 
 .put  the  question  (v.  25)  which  brought  out  Peter's  second  denial ;  and, 
 perhaps,  also,  Luke  xxii.  61,  sliould  be  joined  in  immediately  after.  In 
 this  case  we  should  make  the  fore-court  of  tiie  house  of  Aiuias  the  scene  of 
 Peter's  denials  ;  and  might  infer  that,  when  this  preparatory  examination 
 .before  Annas  was  forgotten,  or  laid  aside  as  unimportant,  the  denial  of 
 Peter,  which  was  preserved  on  account  of  its  intrinsic  importance,  was  laid 
 in  the  court  of  Caiaphas,  in  connexion  with  the  second  examination. 
 
456  THE  TIUAL  AND  COXDEMNATION. 
 
 as  made,  and  the  investigation  only  intended  to  throw  over  it 
 the  forms  of  justice.  He  referred  Annas,  therefore,  to  his 
 jjublic  discourses  in  the  Temple  and  in  the  synagogues.  One 
 of  the  scr\'itors  deemed  his  reply  an  insult  to  the  high-priest's 
 tlignity,  and  struck  liim  in  the  face.  The  blow  could  not  dis- 
 turb his  serenity  of  soul;  he  only  asserted  the  justice  of  his 
 cause  in  saying,  "If  I  have  spolceji  evil,  hear  witness  of  tlie  evil; 
 hut  if  well,  lohy  smitest  tliou  nie?" 
 
 §  283. — Morning. — Examination  before  Caiaphas. 
 
 In  the  examination  before  the  Sanhedrim,  over  which  Caia- 
 phas presided,  Christ  presers^ed  the  same  silence  as  before 
 Annas,  and  for  similar  reasons.  The  conflicting  evidence  of 
 the  witnesses  afforded  no  gi'ound  for  the  condemnation  on 
 which  the  col^rt  had  already  decided.  The  high-priest  insisted 
 on  his  defending  himself  against  the  witnesses;  but  he  still 
 held  his  peace.  Finally,  he  called  upon  Jesus,  in  the  name  of 
 the  Li\'ing  God,  to  declare  whether  or  not  he  was  "  Messiah, 
 the  Son  of  Cod."  After  answering  in  the  affirmative,  Christ 
 announced  the  great  events  then  apjjroaching,  which  were  to 
 testify,  more  strongly  than  words,  that  He  teas  the  promised 
 Theocratic  King:  "  llerexfler  aliall  ye  see  the  Son  of  Man  sitting 
 on  the  rifjht  hand  ofpoiver  (of  God),  and  coviing  in  tlie  clouds  of 
 fieaven"y  (a  figurative  expression,  implpng,  "  You  shall  see  me 
 prove  my  Di\dne  power  in  act,  spreading  my  kingdom,  and 
 subduing  its  foes  in  spite  of  all  your  machinations;"  the  actual 
 proof  of  his  Messianic  dignity,  an  announcement  of  the  im- 
 pending judgment  of  God).  Then  the  liigh-priest  rent  his 
 robes,  as  a  sign  of  horror  at  the  blasphemy  uttered  liy  Christ, 
 saying,  "From  his  own  lips  ye  have  heard  it."  He  was  then 
 condemned  to  death,  either  as  a  false  prophet,  and  thereby  in- 
 curring the  punishment  ordained  by  the  law  of  Moses,  because 
 he  had  falsely  proclaimed  himself  Messiah ;  or  as  a  bhtsphemer, 
 because  he  had  attributed  Divine  honours  to  himself.  Tlie 
 latter  appears  more  probable  from  !Matt.  xx\'i.  Go,  GG;  and, 
 indeed,  they  had  often  before  accused  him  of  bla.spheniy. 
 
 After  the  condemnation  he  was  given  u]),  as  one  expelled 
 from  the  Theocratic  nation,  to  the  rude  dei'Lsion  and  mocking 
 of  the  servants  in  the  court. 
 
 y  Christ's  "coming,"  "coming  in  the  clouds,"  &c.  not  only  indicAte  hla 
 second  advent  Jit  a  fiir-dintant  period,  but  also  his  spiritual,  world-hibtorical 
 manifestation. 
 
DOUBLE  DEALING  OF  THE  SANHEDRIM.  457 
 
 §  284. — Double  Dealing  of  the  Sanhedrim. 
 
 It  is  obvious,  at  first  sight,  that  the  procedure  of  the  Sanhe- 
 drim in  condemning  Christ  was  illegal  and  arbitrary.  It  was 
 not  a  regular  inquiry  after  the  truth;  Christ  stood  in  the  way 
 of  the  hierarchy,  and  his  case  had  been  prejudged;  Caiaphas 
 himself  had,  in  fact,  announced  that  his  death  was  decided  on. 
 A  wicked  policy  demanded  the  Wctini.  Moreover,  the  neces- 
 sity of  putting  him  to  death  before  the  feast  caused  the  sen- 
 tence to  be  hastened  as  rapidly  as  possible  under  the  forms  of 
 justice. 
 
 It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  at  that  time  the  Sanhedrim 
 had  only  subordinate  authority  to  assign  penalties  for  viola- 
 tions of  the  religious  law;  it  could  not  lawfully  pi'onounoe 
 sentence  of  death  without  the  authority  of  the  Roman  gover- 
 nor.^ It  had,  therefore,  to  seek,  in  Christ's  case,  some  plausiljle 
 grounds  for  condemnation  that  would  stand  the  scrutiny  of 
 tliat  officer.  No  accusation  of  heresy,  blasphemy,  or  felse  as- 
 sumption of  tlie  prophetic  character  would  suffice.  Some  poli- 
 tical charge  must,  therefore,  be  trumped  up.  But  in  this  the 
 hierarchical  party  had  to  act  in  direct  opjiosition  to  their  own 
 convictions;  Jesus  had  always  refused  to  meddle  with  ci^dl 
 affiurs.  It  is  true,  he  had  been  attended  into  the  city  by  an 
 enthusiastic  multitude,  acknowledging  him  as  INIessiah ;  but 
 liis  withdrawal  from  them,  and,  indeed,  all  his  movements  on 
 that  occasion,  abmidantly  proved  that  he  had  no  intention  ta 
 make  use  of  worldly  means.  This  is  showTi  sufficiently  by  the 
 fact  that  no  attempt  was  made  by  the  Sanhedrim  to  use  the 
 triumphal  entry  as  ground  for  a  political  charge.  Had  it  Ijcen 
 at  all  suspicious  in  that  respect,  the  Roman  governor  would 
 have  taken  it  up;  as  popular  movements  of  the  kind  were 
 generally,  and  -with  good  reason,  looked  upon  with  ilistrust. 
 
 A  charge  of  mterference  with  the  state,  then,  could  not  be 
 sustained,  even  according  to  the  judgment  of  his  enemies.  It 
 was  clear  that  he  had  used  no  other  influence  over  men's  minds 
 
 ■  Joseph.  Arch:eol.  xx.  9,  §  1.  The  high-priest,  Ananus  (Annas),  had 
 taken  advantage  of  the  absence  of  the  governor  to  inflict  capital  punish- 
 ment, on  the  authority  of  the  Sanliedrini.  He  was  accused  for  the  act 
 before  the  Prefect  Albinus  :  ""Qq  ortc  i^ov  yv  'Avart^j  X'^P'C  ^')c  tKtivov 
 yi'Mfii]!;  KaOiaai  avi>i?piov  ;"  obviously  showing  that  the  consent  of  the 
 governor  was  essential  in  such  cases.  The  misdemeanour  was  deemed  so 
 grave  that  Ananus  was  removed  from  office.  The  reading  of  Si/nkellos, 
 *^  (KivvMv,"  would  give  an  entirely  dififerent  meaning  ;  but  it  is  obviously 
 inoorrect. 
 
458  THE  TRIAL  AND  CONDEMNATION. 
 
 than  the  inward  power  of  his  words  and  works  to  move  then- 
 convictions ;  and  this  was  ob^■iously  beyond  the  sphere  of  civil 
 jurisdiction.  But  antiquity  coidd  not  conceive  of  a  holy  sphere 
 of  conscience  and  conviction  beyond  the  reach  of  human  tribu- 
 nals. It  was  fii'st  oijcned  to  the  Old-World  consciousness  by 
 the  idea  of  the  kingdom  of  God  as  brought  to  light  by  Chi'ist, 
 Before,  either  religion  was  subordinated  to  the  state,  or  the 
 state  to  religion  (the  latter  being  the  Theocracy  in  its  political 
 form  ]  the  former  being  state-re!igio7is).  In  the  Jewish  consti- 
 tution (which,  however,  did  not  exist  in  its  original  foi-m  imder 
 the  Roman  sway)  the  state  was  subordinate  to  religion.  It 
 was  the  crime  of  the  Sanhecb'im  that  it  decided,  arbitraiily,  to 
 retain  tliis  old  stand-point,  contrary  to  the  judgment  of  God, 
 as  shown  in  the  signs  of  the  times  pomted  out  by  Clu'ist ;  that 
 it  woidd  not  give  up  its  selfish  interests,  or  bow  before  the 
 higher  power  Avhich  had  come  into  the  world  to  break  down 
 tlie  old  landmarks.  Even  if  it  could  not  ftiUy  admit  Christ's 
 claims,  it  was  bound,  on  its  OAvn  stand-point,  to  investigate  the 
 proofs  wliicli  he  offered  in  testimony  of  his  Divine  caUing;  and 
 when  phenomena  appeared  wliich  could  not  be  explained  ex- 
 cept as  the  Avorkings  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  at  least  to  leave 
 them,  as  Gamahel  did  afterAvard,  to  the  judgment  of  God  as 
 history^  should  unfold  it.  But  the  grouHch  of  the  incapacity 
 of  the  heads  of  the  liierarchy  to  admit  the  pi'oofs  of  Christ's 
 Divine  calling  had  often  before  been  pointed  out  by  himself; 
 the  inability  was  a  moral  one,  founded  in  thcii'  dispositions  of 
 heaii;,  and  therefore  it  was  guilty}^ 
 
 As  before  remarked,  the  gi'ouuds  on  wliich  the  Sanhednm 
 condemned  Christ  were  not  sufficient  to  induce  Filate,  the 
 Roman  procurator',  to  inflict  capital  punishment  \ipon  him. 
 Another  charge  Avas  needed.  To  serve  the  pm'pose,  recourse 
 was  had  to  his  claim  of  Messiahship,  on  Avliieh  they  had  pro- 
 fessed to  found  their  own  decision,  Avith  the  addition  of  a  i)oli- 
 tical  element:  "He  has  claimed  to  be  a  king;"  and  hence,  "he 
 peiwei-ts  the  nation  (contests  the  Roman  authority),  and  for- 
 bids to  give  tribute  to  Cfesar."<=     An  accusation  of  this  sort 
 
 '  To  this  judgment  Moses  refers,  Deut.  xviii.  20-22. 
 
 •>  Cf.  pp.  321,  322. 
 
 ■^  Luke  xxiii.  3.  This  passage  is  obviously  presupposed  in  John  xviii. 
 ■  33.  .John's  account  takes  many  things  for  granted  that  are  recorded  in 
 tlie  otlier  Gospels  ;  but  the  latter,  in  turn,  must  often  find  their  supple- 
 ment in  the  former,  as  is  the  case  in  this  part  of  Luke.  None  but  an  eye- 
 witness could  have  given  the  account  in  so  exiict  a  connexion  as  John's. 
 The  simple  reply  to  Pilate's  question,  av  Xeytig,  as  given  in  Luke  xxiii.  3, 
 
BEFORE  PILATE.  459 
 
 could  be  the  more  readily  admitted,  as  the  Roman  authorities 
 were  well  aware  that  the  Jews  felt  themselves  degi'aded  and 
 disgraced  by  jiaying  taxes  to  a  heathen  power. 
 
 §  285. — Jesus  before  Pilate. — Christ's  Kinr/dom  not  "  of  this  World." 
 
 The  procurator,  Pontius  Pilate,  a  representative  of  the  rich 
 and  corrupt  Romans  of  that  age,  acted  thi'ougliout  the  case  in 
 accordance  with  his  well-known  character.  An  enemy  to  the 
 Jews,  he  was  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  vex  and  mock  them. 
 But,  on  the  other  hand,  his  administration  had  been  marked 
 by  many  acts  of  arbitrary  injustice,  and  his  e\dl  conscience 
 feared  an  accusation  from  the  Jews,  such,  indeed,  as  subse- 
 quently wrought  his  downfall.  Care  for  Ids  own  security, 
 therefore,  led  him  to  avoid  giving  them  any  handle  against 
 him  on  tliis  occasion;  and  he  was  by  no  means  inclined  to  sa- 
 crifice his  own  interests  to  those  of  innocence  and  justice. 
 "With  all  his  disposition  to  save  a  man  guiltless  of  political 
 crimes,  and  whose  zeal  he  jierhaps  himself  acknowledged  to  be 
 well-meant,  it  was  no  part  of  liis  character  to  risk  personal  or 
 pohtical  objects  in  such  a  cause. 
 
 The  Sanhedrim,  in  deHvering  Jesus  up  to  Pilate  as  "  a  dis- 
 tiu'ber  of  the  public  })eace,"  exjiccted  that  he  would  be  satisfied 
 with  their  recognition  of  the  Roman  autlioi-ity,  and  lend  his 
 power,  without  further  inquuy,  to  the  execution  of  their  de- 
 cide. But  Pilate,  seeing  no  grounds  for  immediate  acqiuescence, 
 demanded  a  more  particular  accusation.  As  he  had  heard  ot 
 no  disturbance  i)roduced  l)y  Jesus,  the  statement  matle  by  the 
 deputies  of  the  Sanhedrim  ajjpeared  by  no  means  credible; 
 and,  susjiecting  that  religious  disjnites  were  at  the  bottom,  he 
 wished  to  get  rid  of  the  whole  afiliir,  and  told  them  "  to  take 
 him,  and  judge  him  according  to  then-  law."  The  deputies 
 understood  his  meaning.  But  to  treat  the  case  as  a  purely 
 ecclesiastical  one,  and  inflict  only  a  corresponding  penalty  on 
 Jesus,  was  not  what  they  desii-ed.  Theii-  desire  and  wishes 
 were  distinctly  expressed  in  theu*  reply :  "  It  is  iiot  lairfnl  for 
 us  to  -ptd  aihtj  man  to  deathr 
 
 The  prociu'ator  thought  it  necessary,  therefore,  to  enter  upon 
 the  political  accusation,  although  he  believed  it  to  be  un- 
 founded; and  said  to  Jesus,  not  without  mockery,  '■^ Art  tliou 
 the  king  of  the  Jews  V  To  tins  question  Christ  coidd  give 
 Matt,  xxvii.  11,  needs  the  further  explanation  given  by  Jolin  (xviii.  36,  37) 
 to  make  it  fully  accord  with  the  facts  ;  for  he  was  not,  and  did  not  claim 
 to  be,  "  King  of  the  Jews,"  in  the  Roman  sense  of  the  phrase  :  nor  could 
 Pilate  have  pronounced  him  guiltless  after  such  a  declaration. 
 
460  THE  TRIAL  AND  COXDEMXATION. 
 
 neither  an  express  affirmative  nor  an  express  negative :  in  tlio 
 religious  sense,  the  answer  must  be  "Yes;"  in  tlie  political, 
 *No."  He,  tlierefore,  asked  Pilate,  "Sai/est  thou  this  thing  of 
 thyself  {i.  e.  inquiring  Avliether  he  asked  the  question  in  the 
 Roman  sense,  and  thought,  with  reference  to  the  rights  of  the 
 state,  that  Christ  was  liable  to  the  accusation  of  claiming  to 
 be  "king"),  or  did  others  tell  it  thee  of  Die?"  Pilate  answered, 
 that  he  did  nothing  more  than  repeat  the  accu^^ation  brought 
 by  the  Jews.  And  Jesus  answered,  "My  kingdom  is  tiot  ofthi^ 
 tuorld"  (not  worldly  in  its  nature,  its  instniments,  or  its  con- 
 flicts). He  proved  its  unworldly  character  by  the  means  he 
 used  in  founding  it :  "//  my  kingdom  were  of  this  icorld,  tlien 
 would  my  servants  fght,''  »fcc. ;  "  but  now  is  my  kingdom  not 
 from  hence." 
 
 The  very  words  in  which  Christ  denied  that  he  was  king  in 
 a  worldly  sense,  implied  that  in  another  sense  he  certainly 
 daimed  to  be  both  a  king  and  the  founder  of  a  kingdom.  He 
 then  defined  more  exactly  the  sense  in  which  he  was  both : 
 "To  this  end  was  I  horn,  and  for  this  cause  came  I  into  this 
 world,  that  I  shoidd  hear  witness  nnto  the  truth."  It  followed 
 that  He  could  be  recognized  as  J^ing,  and  the  nature  of  his 
 kingdom  be  understood  by  those  only  who  were  susceptible  of 
 receiving  the  truth:  '^ Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my 
 voice."  This  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  sununons  to  the  con- 
 science of  Pilate  himself  But  the  procurator — a  type  of  the 
 educated  Roman  world,  especially  of  its  higher  cla.sses,  lost  in 
 "worldly-mindedness,  and  conscious  of  no  higher  wants  than 
 those  of  tliis  life — had  no  such  sense  for  truth.  "  What  is 
 truth  1 "  was  liis  mocking  question.  " Truth  is  an  empty  name" 
 he  meant  to  say. 
 
 §  286. — Jesus  sent  to  Jlerod. 
 
 Pilate  now  looked  iipon  Jesus  simply  as  a  religious  enthu- 
 sda-st,  innocent  of  all  political  crimes,  and  told  the  deputies  that 
 he  "could  find  no  fault  in  him  at  all."  They  then  replied 
 (Luke  xxiii.  5)  that  his  teaching  had  stirred  up  the  people 
 everywhere,  from  Galilee  to  Jerusalem.  As  soon  as  Pilate 
 heard  that  Jesus  was  of  Galilee,  it  occurred  to  him  to  lay  the 
 case  before  Herod  Antipas,  tetrarch  of  Galilee  and  Jude;i,  who 
 had  just  then  come  to  the  feast  at  Jerusalem. 
 
 Herod  had  for  long  wished  to  see  Jesus.^  The  fame  of  the 
 miracles  inspired  him  with  curiosity  to  see  what  Christ  could 
 do.  But  it  was  no  part  of  the  Saviour's  calling  to  satisfy  aa 
 0  Cf.  p.  855. 
 
BEFORE  HEROD.  4G1 
 
 idle  curiosity.  To  describe  his  doctrine  fully  to  a  man  so 
 utterly  worldly,  would  liave  been,  in  bis  own  language,  to 
 "cast  pearls  before  swine.*^  He,  therefore,  answered  none  of 
 Herod's  questions.  The  disappointed  king,  ha\Ting  arrayed  the 
 Saviour,  in  inockeiy,  in  a  gorgeous  pvu'ple  robe,  and  exposed 
 Mm  to  the  cruel  sport  and  derision  of  the  soldiers,  sent  him 
 back  to  the  procurator.  Doubtless  the  latter  was  eonfii-med 
 in  his  own  views  by  the  word  which  Herod  sent  him. 
 
 §  287. — Pilate's  Fruitless  Efforts  to  save  Jesus. — The  Bream  of  Pilate's  Wife. 
 
 In  honour  of  the  Passover,  and  as  a  privilege  to  the  Jews, 
 pardon  was  granted  every  year  to  a  ci'iminal  condemned  to 
 death.  Pilate  endeavoured  to  make  use  of  tliis  privilege  in 
 favour  of  Jesus;  hoping  thus  at  once  to  admit  the  validity  of 
 the  decree  of  the  Sanhedrim,  and  yet  leave  it  unexecuted.  In 
 order  to  satisfy  their  hatred  against  Jesus  to  some  extent,  he 
 proposed,  not  to  free  him  from  all  punishment,  but  to  mitigate 
 it  into  scourging.  But  the  multitude,  always  open  to  the 
 impressions  of  the  moment — the  very  multitude  who,  a  few 
 days  before,  had  welcomed  Jesus,  with  shouts  of  enthtisiasni, 
 as  Theocratic  King — were  noii\  wlien  their  carnal  expectations 
 were  deceived,  blind  instruments  of  the  Sanhedrim,  and  oljo- 
 dient  to  eveiy  fanatical  impulse  of  the  Pharisees.  They 
 clamoured  for  the  pardon  of  a  murderer  rather  than  of  the 
 false  prophet  (as  they  held  him)  who  had  deceived  their  hopes. 
 
 The  procurator  ordered  Jesus  to  be  scourged.  It  could  not 
 have  cost  the  feelings  of  a  Filate  much  to  inflict  such  violent 
 pain  and  deep  disgrace  upon  an  innocent  man.  He  thought 
 that  Jesus,  as  an  enthusiast,  who  had  already  given  so  much 
 trouble,  deserved  scourging;  and  he  probably  expected  to 
 appease  the  rage  and  excite  the  sympathy  of  the  multitude 
 by  the  infliction,  and  so,  perhaps,  to  succeed  in  saving  his  Hfe. 
 With  the  cruel  marks  upon  his  body,  the  Saviour  was  brought 
 out,  in  the  attire  which  the  soldiers  had  put  upon  him  in 
 derision,  and  set  before  the  people;  when  Pilate,  having  de- 
 clared that  he  foimd  no  guilt  in  him,  said,  "Behold  the  man!" 
 ('•'  Can  it  be  believed  that  he  woiUd  wish  to  make  himself 
 king?")  The  sight  only  stimulated  their  fanatical  rage;  and, 
 Avith  unceasing  clamours,  they  demanded  his  crucifixion.  Full 
 of  displeasure,  Pilate  said  to  them,  "  Take  ye  him,  cuid  crucify 
 him,  for  I  find  no  fault  in  him."  The  Jews  knew  well  hov»'  to 
 understand  tliis;  and,  as  their  political  accusation  had  failed, 
 
 «  Cf.  p.  303. 
 
462  THE  TRIAL  AST)  COXDEJIXATION. 
 
 they  liad  recourse  again  to  tlie  religious  one :  "  We  have  a  law, 
 and  hy  our  law  (confirmed  by  the  Konian  state)  lie  ought  to  die, 
 because  he  made  himself  the  t>on  of  God." 
 
 Unsusce})tible  as  Pilate  was  of  all  impressions  from  the 
 higher  life,  unable  to  recognize  the  majesty  that  dwelt  in  that 
 lowly  form,  he  yet  found  in  Chiist's  demeanour  under  his  suf- 
 ferings something  peculiar  and  inex]jlicable,  Moi-eover,  liis 
 wife,'  troubled  by  fearful  dreams,  sent  him  a  warning  to  "Have 
 tvothhuj  to  do  with  that  just  many  And  now,  in  addition  to 
 all  this,  he  was  told  that  Jesus  had  declared  himself  to  be  the 
 "  Son  of  God,"  a  title  wliich  he  interpreted  according  to  the 
 pagan  conceptions  of  the  "  Sons  of  the  Gods." 
 
 §  288.— Zoii  Convei'tation  of  Jesus  with  Pilate. — The  Sentence. 
 
 The  transition  is  easy  from  infidelity,  springing  from  world- 
 liness  and  frivolity,  to  sudden  emotions  of  superstition.  So  he 
 who  but  a  moment  before  had  mockingly  asked  Christ,  "  W/uU 
 is  truth?"  went  now,  in  a  sudden  access  of  superstitious  fear, 
 and  inquired,  "  Whence  art  thou  ? "  As  the  question  was 
 prompted  only  by  superstition  and  curiosity,  and  as  the  ques- 
 tioner was  incapable  of  apprehending  Jesus  as  the  Sou  of  God 
 in  the  only  sense  in  which  he  ^^dshed  to  be  acknowledged  as 
 such,  the  Sa\'iour  made  no  reply.  Pilate,  in  astonishment, 
 renewed  his  questions:  "Speakest  thou  not  unto  me  ?  Knoicest 
 Uimt  not  that  I  have  2^oioer  to  crucify  thee,  and  have  2^oicer  to 
 release  thee?"  To  tliis  Jesus  answered:  "TJiou  coiddst  have  no 
 power  at  cdl  against  me,  except  it  were  given  thee  from  above  (if 
 God  had  not  brought  it  to  pass  that  I  should  be  delivered  to 
 thee  by  the  Sanhediim) ;  therefore  is  the  guilt  of  those  by 
 ■whom  God  hath  delivered  me  unto  thee  greater  than  thine." 
 
 Thus  did  Christ  declare  that  no  human  will  hmited^  his  life, 
 but  that  his  death  took  i)lace  in  consequence  of  a  higher  neces- 
 sity ordained  by  GoD,  for  a  higher  end.  Pilate  thereupon 
 strove  more  earnestly  to  save  him  ;  but  the  Jews  alaraied  him 
 with  the  cry,  so  terrible  at  that  time,  of  crimen  majestatis:  '•  It 
 thou  let  this  man  go,  thou  art  not  Caesar's  fi-iend ;  whosoever 
 maketh  himself  a  king,  revolts  against  the  authority  of  the 
 emperor."  To  this  storm  of  clamour  the  prociu-ator  at  last, 
 though  reluctantly,  yielded .  his  conscience  feared  the  charges 
 
 '  According  to  the  Apocryphal  Gospel  of  NIcodemus  (c.  ii.),  nml  later 
 accounts  (all  of  which,  however,  probably  came  from  the  same  source),  she 
 was  a  proselyte  of  the  gate,  Sto(7tC»/r,  and  was  named  Procla  {Tliiln,  Cod. 
 Apocryph.  i.  520).  Judaism  had  found  its  converts  particularly  among 
 the  female  sex. 
 
CALVARY.  463 
 
 which  the  Sanhedrim  might  prefer  against  him  at  Eome ;  and 
 his  personal  security  was  more  to  liim  than  the  life  of  an  inno- 
 cent man. 
 
 §  289. — Jesus  led  to  Calvary. — Simon  of  Cyrme. — The  Words  of  Christ  to 
 the  Weeping  Women. 
 
 As  was  usual  with  condemned  criminals,  Jesus  himselt 
 carried  the  instrument  of  death  to  the  place  of  execution.  But 
 his  severe  struggles  and  sufierings,  both  of  body  and  mind,  had 
 so  exhausted  his  strength  tliat  he  sunk  under  the  burden. 
 Even  the  inide  soldiers,  who  had  so  lately  mocked  him,  were 
 filled  mth  compassion,  and  compelled  a  Jew,  whom  they  met 
 on  the  way,  Simon  of  Cyrene,  to  take  his  cross  and  bear  it  to 
 the  place  of  death.  8 
 
 Amid  all  his  suffeiings  lie  was  moved  with  compassion,  for 
 the  blinded  people,  over  whose  heads  he  saw  impending  the 
 judgments  of  God,  called  down  by  their  long-accumulated  guilt, 
 of  wliich  he  had  so  often  warned  them.  Seeing  the  women  of 
 Jenisalem  in  tears,''  he  said  to  them,  "Weep  not  for  me,  but 
 weep  for  yourselves  and  for  your  children."  Then,  after  pre- 
 dicting the  woes  of  the  siege  and  destruction  of  Jeiiisalem,  he 
 said,  "  If  they  do  tliese  things  in  a  green  tree,  wluct  shall  be  done 
 in  tlie  dryV'^ 
 
 E  This  account,  given  in  tlie  first  three  Gospels,  carries  the  proof  of  its 
 veracity  in  itself.  It  is  nothing  strange  that  Roman  soldiers,  in  the  public 
 service,  could  do,  unresisted,  so  higli-handed  an  act  (cf.  Hwjs  instructive 
 remarks  on  the  naiTative  of  Christ's  passion,  Zeitschrift  fiir  d.  Geistl.  d. 
 Erzbisthums  Freiburg,  1831,  v.  s.  12).  Mark,  whose  account  bears  evi- 
 dence in  this,  as  in  several  other  places,  of  peculiar  sources  of  information, 
 oral  or  written,  mentions  (xv.  21)  that  this  Simon  was  the  father  of  two 
 men  well  known  in  the  first  Christian  congregations.  Notwithstanding 
 all  that  Strauss  says  to  the  contrary,  John's  statement,  that  Jesus  was  led 
 Ijearing  his  o\\ti  cross,  is  not  at  variance  with  that  given  by  the  other 
 sources,  viz.  that  he  was  afterward  relieved  of  the  load  on  account  of  his 
 exhaustion.  John  jiasses  lightly  over  some  things  in  the  narrative  of 
 Christ's  passion,  and  gives  prominence  to  others  not  mentioned  by  the 
 other  Evangelists  ;  there  is,  therefore,  no  ground  of  surprise  in  his  omis- 
 sion of  this  particular  incident.  If  it  be  supposed  that  the  Apostle  John 
 did  iv)t  NVTite  this  Gospel,  can  it  be  imagined  that  its  author  Icncw  nothing 
 of  this  account  (for  a  doctrinal  motive  to  intentional  silence  is  out  of  the 
 question)  ?  In  what  corner  must  he  liave  ^\Titten,  to  remain  ignorant  of 
 an  incident  so  closely  interwoven  with  the  traditional  accounts  of  the 
 passion  i  And  how  could  a  document  issuing  fi:om  such  a  comer  be  passed 
 off  as  the  production  of  John,  the  Apostle. 
 
 ''  Luke  xxiii.  27-31. 
 
 '  "If  the  Holy  One,  entering  among  sinful  men,  is  so  entreated,  what 
 must  happen  to  those  whose  sufierings  will  be  the  just  penalty  of  their  own 
 accimiulated  guilt  ?" 
 
464  THE  CRUCIFIXION. 
 
 CHAPTER  YII. 
 
 THE  CRUCIFIXION. 
 §  290. — Details  of  the  Crucifixion. 
 
 "VYiiEN  Jesus  reached  tlie  place  of  execution,  lie  was  offered, 
 as  was  usual,  a  spiced  -wine^J  intended  to  stupify  the  mind  and 
 deaden  the  pains  of  death.  Oppressed  with  burning  thirst,  he 
 tasted  of  the  -wine;  but  when  he  perceived  tlie  stupifying 
 dnig,  he  refused  to  drink,  that  he  might  die  in  full  conscious- 
 ness. Stripped  of  nearly  all  his  clothing,^  he  was  lifted  up  to 
 the  cross,  bound,  and  then  nailed  to  it  by  his  hands  and  feet.' 
 (The  chief  pain  of  this  cniel  death,  according  to  a  -writer  who 
 
 '■  J  Matt,  xxvii.  34.  Mark  descrihes  it  exactly  (xv.  23)  as  olrog  lajxvp- 
 viaii'tvoQ.  Cf.  Acta  Fructuosi  Tarraconensis,  where  it  is  related  of  the 
 martyrs,  "  Cum  vudti  ex  frutenia  curiiutc  its  offinnt,  uii  condili  pcrmiu-ti 
 poculum  svmercnt,"  &c.  (c.  ill.  lUiinart.  Acta  Martyruni,  Ainstel.  1713, 
 220).  The  meruni  conditum  was  given  by  the  Christians  to  the  confef*- 
 sors  tanquam  antidotum,  that,  by  means  of  it,  they  might  be  less  sensible 
 of  suffering  (Tertull.  de  Jejnniis,  c.  xii.). 
 
 ^  John's  mention  of  the  x'toji'  dpjyatpoQ  is  confinned  by  the  statement  of 
 Isidore  of  Pelusium,  that  sucli  garments  were  peculiar  to  Galilee.  Such  a 
 garment,  though  somewhat  common  in  Galilee,  and  worn  liy  the  lower 
 classes,  might  have  been  a  novelty  to  the  Roman  soldiers,  and,  therefore, 
 an  object  of  value  in  their  eyes.  Isidore  says,  "  tIq  c't  iiyvoii  t>)i' ivTi- 
 Xtiav  Tijg  iaQijTOQ  iKiii'tjc,  yirtp  o'l  irrwxoi  Ktxoijvrai  ruv  TaXiXaiwi', 
 KaO'  oi'if  Kcii  fiaXiara  to  toioi'To  ^iXsT  yivtaOai  ijidTiov,  tLx^ij  rivi,  wg  ai 
 aTt]6oiia[^iidtg,  iwaicficvcnor  v<paiv6jitvov" 
 
 '  There  has  been  much  dispute  on  this  point,  and  many  have  given  it 
 imdue  importance  ;  tiie  result  of  the  most  candid  inquiry  is,  that  th*i  feet 
 were  nailed  as  well  as  the  hands.  Tlie  most  striking  continuation  is 
 afforded  by  the  fact  that  the  fixthers,  writing  at  a  time  when  ci-ucifixion 
 was  in  use,  speak  of  the  picrcinfj  of  Jcsus'is  feet  as  a  matter  of  cour.se, 
 without  laying  any  stress  upon  it  as  necessary  to  fulfil  Ps.  xxii.  1 7.  We 
 cannot  enter  into  theinquiry  at  length,  but  will  only  allude  to  tiie  passage 
 in  TertuUian  so  important  in  reference  to  this  question  (Adv.  Marcion.  iii. 
 19).  After  citing  "fodirunt  manus  meets  et  peden"  fi-om  the  Psalm,  he 
 undertakes  to  show  tliat  it  was  fulfilled  in  the  crucifixion  of  Christ.  Tl»e 
 words  innnediately  following,  "  (jxw  ]>rojiiie  atyocita.i  a-xcii,"  can  mean 
 nothing  else  than  that  it  was  the  piercing  of  the  hands  and  feet  which,  on 
 tlie  whole,  made  this  punishment  of  death  so  terril)le.  He  then  speaks  of 
 the  apices  crucis  as  belonging  to  the  cross  in  general,  not  Christ's  in  j>arti- 
 cular.  Further,  he  says  that  the  I'salm  cannot  be  applieil  to  any  other 
 tliat  had  died  as  a  martyr  among  the  Jews  ;  no  man  of  God  excejtt  Christ 
 had  suffered  this  mode  of  death,  "  qui  solus  a  2^opulo  tain  insi'jnit<r  cruci- 
 fi.cus  e.st"  (who  .suffered  so  marked  a  death  by  ci-ucifixion — one  otherwise 
 unknown  in  the  Old  Te-tanient — defining  him,  before  all  others,  and  fixing 
 him  alone  as  the  one  to  whom  the  words  of  the  Psalm  could  Ije  applied). 
 Cf.  Iluy's  Dissertati' m,  before  cited  ;  Hose's  Leben  Jesu,  §  143. 
 
THE  TWO  THIEVES.  4G5 
 
 lived  -wliile   it  was   yet   known   and   used,  coni.isted  in   the 
 ]ianging  of  tlie  body  wliile  the  hands  and  feet  were  nailed.) 
 
 §  291. — Christ  Prays  for  his  Enemies. — 'The  Two  Thieves. 
 
 Wlien  he  was  fastened  to  the  cros.s,  aniid  the  jeers  and 
 scoffs  of  the  carnal  nmltitude,  He  did  not  invoke  the  Divine 
 judgments  upon  the  heads  of  those  who  had,  retui'ning  evil 
 for  good,  inflicted  such  terrible  tortures  upon  him;  on  the 
 contrary,  with  boundless  love,"'  he  commended  his  enemies  to 
 tlie  mercy  of  God,  pi-aying,  "  Father,  forgive  litem,  for  they 
 know  not  ichat  tliey  do "  (the  ignorance  of  delusion,  though  a 
 guilty  one). 
 
 Two  cruninals,  of  widely  opposite  dispositions,  were  crucified 
 with  liim.  ^\niile  the  one,  hardened  in  sin,  joined  in  mocking 
 Christ,  the  other  rebuked  him  for  so  doing.  Perhai)S  the 
 men's  offences  had  been  diil'erent ;  the  one  may  have  been  a 
 common  robber,  the  other  a  criminal  led  away  by  the  poUtical 
 passions  that  then  excited  the  nation — like  the  Sicarri,'^  the 
 t-ools  of  the  hierarchy ;  but  on  this  question  we  have  no  light. 
 At  any  rate,  one  of  them,  rou.sed  to  a  sense  of  sin  and  guilt, 
 became  susceptible  of  higher  impressions.  And  tlie  deeper 
 his  consciousness  that  his  own  punishment  was  justly  due  to 
 his  crimes,  the  more  deeply  must  he  have  been  afiected  by  the 
 sufferings  of  the  Holy  One  beside  him.  Who  can  reckon  the 
 power  of  a  Divine  impression  upon  a  contrite  soid — a  soul 
 freed  from  the  bonds  of  sense  by  innnediate  sufieriugs  1 
 
 It  is  at  once  a  proof  as  well  of  the  Divine  life  manifested 
 by  Christ  in  the  very  face  of  death,  as  of  the  religious  suscep- 
 tibility of  the  criminal  himself,  that  he,  who  had  jicrhaps 
 before  seen  none  of  the  proofs  of  Christ's  majesty,  should  have 
 anticij)ated  the  faith  even  of  Apo.stles;  and  this  he  did  ui 
 trampling  upon  Jewi.sh  prejudices,  and  recognizing  the  Messiah 
 in  the  sufferer.  "  Lord,"  said  he,  "  remeviber  me  loheii  thoti. 
 covtest  into  thy  kingdom."  The  answer  of  Christ  °  is  full  of 
 imjjort  in  more  respects  than  one.  In  -view  of  the  sinner's 
 faith,  founded  on  genuine  repentance,  he  promises  him  bhss; 
 and  in  opposition  to  the  expectation  that  His  kingdom  was 
 only  to  be  founded  in  the  fiitiu'c,  he  promises  him  immediate 
 bliss:  '•  Verily,  I  say  tinto  thee,  to-day  shah  thou  be  ivith  me  m 
 
 "  Thus  illustrating  practically  his  precepts  in  the  Senuon  on  the  Mount, 
 "  As  BarahKis,  Luke  xxiii.  19. 
 
 "  Its  contradiction  to  ordinary  Jewish  notions  proves  its  originality. 
 *•  A  ."symbolical  name  for  the  regions  of  bliss. 
 
 2u 
 
406  THE  CRUCIFIXION. 
 
 §  292. — Christ's  Exclamation  ;  Psalm  xxii. — His  Last  Words. 
 
 What  Di^■iue  confidence  clid  Clii-ist's  words  to  the  malefactor 
 display,  even  in  the  midst  of  his  sufferings  !  But  he  pai-took 
 of  all  purely  human  feelings,  and  was  therefore  subject  to  the 
 alternations  which  the  outward  circumstances  tended  to 
 produce.  The  first  struggles  of  death  may  call  forth  in  man 
 the  sense  of  personal  sin;  but  He,  the  perfectly  Holy,  could 
 have  no  such  sense.  All  that  he  could  feel  (and  that  he  did 
 feel)  was  a  consciousness  that  his  sufferings  were  the  result  of 
 the  sins  of  men,  and  a  deep  sympathy  with  the  suffeiings 
 brought  upon  mankind  by  sin.  Under  these  pangs  of  soul 
 and  body  he  sees  before  him  the  Holy  One,  persecuted, 
 mocked,  proved  in  the  bitterest  suffeiings,  yet  steadfastly 
 trusting  in  God,  as  described  in  the  twenty-second  Psalm: 
 and  the  idea,  as  delineated  by  the  inspii-ed  Psalmist,  was 
 realized — not  only  in  itself,  but  in  the  minutest  traits  of  its 
 delineation  also — in  Him,  who  stood  among  men  as  the  only 
 Holy  One,  not  only  exhil^iting  the  ideal  of  holiness  in  conflict 
 and  suffering,  but  triumphing  through  them. 
 
 At  the  acme  of  his  pangs,  he  cries  alovid,  "  3fy  God,  my 
 God,  tvhy  hast  thoio  forsaken  me  V  The  form  of  the  words, 
 '■'■my  God^'  implies  the  consciousness,  in  liis  inmost  soul,  of 
 inse])arable  union  with  God.  The  words  must  also  be  taken 
 as  the  expression  of  a  single,  subordinate  moment,  in  connexion, 
 with  the  whole  state  of  soul  expressed  in  the  Psalm. 
 
 An  enigma,  indeed,  must  this  exclamation  appear  to  all  who 
 isolate  it  from  its  connexion  with  the  state  of  Christ's  soul  up 
 to  the  last  expression  of  triumph,  " /^  isfnished!"  an  enigma, 
 indeed,  to  those  who  forget  that  Christ  s^^ffered  and  thed  for 
 mankind — for  mankind  laid  up  in  his  heart ;  an  enigma  to 
 all,  in  a  word,  who  are  strangers  to  the  Christian  life.  But 
 the  Christian  sees,  in  this  feature  of  his  Master's  history,  a^ 
 type  of  the  life  of  individual  believers  and  of  the  whole' 
 Church ;  for  both  must  be  led,  through  all  stages  of  suffering, 
 and  even  through  moments  of  apparent  abandonment  by  GoD, 
 to  perfection  and  glorification. 
 
 Parched  with  inward  heat,  the  Sa^^our  asks,  for  the  last 
 time,  for  a  coohng  drink.  A  s})onge,  filled  with  the  acid  drink 
 used  by  the  soldiers,'^!  was  placed  to  his  lips.  D}dng,  he 
 commends  liis  mother  to  the  care  of  that  beloved  disciple  who 
 stood  nearer  to  liim  than  a  brother.     And  then  he  utters  the 
 
 1  Posca. 
 
ACCOMPAKYIXG  PHEXOilEXA.  467 
 
 word  of  ti'iumph,  tlie  greatest  and  the  weightiest  that  has 
 been  uttered  upon  the  earth:  " /<  is  finished  !"  and  commends 
 his  soul,  sejiarating  from  Ids  bodily  being,  to  the  Father  in 
 Heaven. 
 
 §293. — Plicnomena  accompanyinf/  the  Death  of  Christ:  the  Earth (fialce ; 
 the  Darkness  ;  the  Rending  of  the  Teiaple-reil. 
 
 The  wise  men  from  the  East  were  led  to  the  Redeemer  by 
 the  remarkable  phenomena  which  attended  his  birth;  and 
 similar  wonders  accompanied  his  death.  As  the  unity  of  the 
 world  as  a  whole  [the  world  of  natui-e  and  of  spirit],  is  seen  in 
 natural  signs  accompanjdng  epoch-making  events  in  histoiy, 
 so  we  need  not  marvel  to  find  the  greatest  event  of  history — 
 shown  as  such  by  its  fruits  in  the  spiritual  renovation  of 
 mankind  even  to  those  who  cannot  comprehend  its  internal 
 import — attended  by  similar  manifestations.  At  the  moment 
 of  Christ's  death  there  was  an  earthquake ;  and  at  the  same 
 time,  and  perhaps  from  the  same  cause,  a  darkness  spread  over 
 the  sky,  producing  eftects  like  those  of  an  eclipse  of  the  simJ 
 The  veil  of  the  Holy  of  Holies  in  the  Temple  was  rent 
 asunder,^    signifying  that  the   Holy   of  Holies  in    hea\'en  is 
 
 '  Julius  Africanus,  the  first  Christian  author  of  a  world-historical  work, 
 says  that  tlie  heathen  histoi-ian  Thallus  described  this  darkness  as  an 
 iicXti-^iC  TOO  I'lKlov.  Africanus  rightly  contradicts  this,  since  no  eclipse 
 could  possibly  have  taken  place  at  the  time,  and  infers,  justly,  that  the 
 darkness  could  only  have  occurred  as  a  real  miracle.  (See  the  fragment  in 
 Georg.  Sipicell.  C'hrotiof/raph.  el.  Nieubuhr,  Dindorf,  i.  610.)  Tlie  Fathers 
 of  the  first  centuiy  refer  frequently  to  a  statement  made  liy  Phlcgon,  the 
 author  of  a  "  Chronicle,"  under  Hadrian.  Euseblus  quotes  his  words, 
 Chron.  imder  the  fourth  year  of  202nd  Ol3anp.  :  "  tK\ti\l/(^  //XiOv  nEyiffrri 
 tCjv  tyviofffjh'Wi'  TrpoTfuof,  Kal  I'vt.  wp^t  iKTij  tTjc  I'lfntpciQ  tyivero,  uiare 
 Kal  asTtpuQ  kv  ovpavifi  tpavtivai."  A  great  earthquake  in  Bithynia  had 
 destroyed  most  part  of  Niccea  (1.  c,  p.  (314.) 
 
 *  By  KaruTTSTacT^a,  Matt,  xxvii.  51,  it  is  most  natural  to  imderstand 
 the  curtain  liefore  the  "Holy  of  Holies,"  for  this  was  distinctively  so 
 called  ;  the  veil  before  the  Sanctuary  was  called  ickX  i^jii^tn  (Philo,  De  Vit. 
 Mos.  iii.  §  5)  ;  or  imuc  must  mean  the  Sanctuary  in  the  stricter  sense, 
 which  does  not  accord  with  the  usage  of  Matthew.  The  latter  view 
 destroys  the  j^eculiar  import  of  the  occurrence. 
 
 It  has  been  questioned  whether  the  fact  of  the  rending  of  the  veil  is  well 
 supported.  It  is  true,  it  is  not  so  well  sustained  as  the  other  phenomena, 
 not  being  mentioned  by  Luke  and  John  ;  but  there  is  no  decisive  ground 
 for  doubting  its  credibility.  It  is  true,  that  the  account  may  have  origi- 
 nated fi-om  the  occurrence  of  some  fact  of  the  kind,  which  assumed  this 
 particular  form  in  the  narrative,  from  the  idea,  subsequently  received,  that 
 access  to  the  "Holiest"  was  opened  by  Christ.  Those  who  presuppose 
 this  would  call  it  a  vii/thtcal  element,  blended  with  the  historical.  We  use 
 the  term  "mythical"  purposely,  having  no  superstitious  fear  of  the  word 
 when   we   wish   to  make   use   of  the   idea.     Although   we   assert   that 
 
 2  h2 
 
4G8  THE  KESURKECTION. 
 
 opened  to  all  men  through  the  finished  work  of  Christ ;  the 
 wall  of  partition  between  the  Divine  and  the  Pluman  broken 
 down;  and  a  spiritual  Avorsliip  substituted  for  an  outward  and 
 sensible  one. 
 
 CHAPTER  YIII. 
 
 THE  llESURRECTION. 
 §  294. — Did  Christ  predict  Ms  Resurrection?- 
 
 Before  desci-ibing  the  Resurrection,  we  must  examine  the 
 question  whether  Christ  foresaw  and  predicted  that  event  as 
 well  as  his  sufferings. 
 
 It  is  true,  we  cannot  prove,  a  jmori,  that  he  must  neces- 
 sarily have  foreknown  the  Resurrection.  If  he  had  had  only 
 a  confident  certainty  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  continue  to 
 work  in  his  disciples,  unfolding  the  truth  He  had  taught  them, 
 and  completing  the  training  He  had  commenced,  he  might 
 have  left  behind  him  his  work  on  earth  with  calm  assurance 
 of  the  future ;  He  need  not  necessarily  have  concluded  that 
 liis  corporeal  reappearance  to  his  followers  in  so  short  a  time 
 must  form  the  link  of  connexion  betv^een  his  departure  and 
 the  renewal  of  spiritual  communion  with  them.  Notwith- 
 standing  all  this,   however,  the    close   connexion    of  Christ's 
 
 Christianity  is,  in  its  essence,  not  a  mythical,  but  a  historical  religion, 
 founded  upon  a  chain  of  real  historical  facts  ;  and  although  we  make  a 
 broad  distinction  between  viytJis  and  symbolical  representations  of /arf.?/ 
 still  we  do  not  assert  it  to  be  iiujMssible  that,  after  religious  intuition  hatl 
 received  a  new  direction  from  the  extraordinary  facts  of  Christianity, 
 certain  mythical  elements,  attaching  themselves  to  the  facts,  could  have 
 crept  into  the  Christian  tradition.  The  mythical  must  predominate,  iu 
 order  to  make  a  narrative  apocryphal. 
 
 But  to  admit  this  j^ossibllitij,  even  in  individual  cases  like  the  one  before 
 us,  is  not  to  admit  its  reality.  Although  it  is  true  that  none  but  a  few 
 priests  could  possibly  have  witnessed  the  rending  of  the  veil  of  "  the  Holy 
 of  Holies,"  it  was  by  no  means  impossible  that  it  could  be  generally  known 
 afterward  ;  since,  among  other  reasons,  many  priests  afterward  became 
 Christians.  Nor  is  the  argumcntiun  e  sllentio  at  all  decisive  in  this  case. 
 The  authors  of  the  New  Testament  had  so  rich  a  treasure  of  proofs  at 
 connnand  that  they  did  not  need  to  run  to  every  individual  fact  which  they 
 might  have  used.  Tliey  drew  from  full  sources  (as  the  Apostolical  epistles 
 show),  and  coidd  afford  to  pass  liy  many  available  things.  In  the  Erang. 
 ad  Hehreeos,  it  is  related  that  a  beam  over  the  Temple-door  broke  in  two 
 {supe7'liminare  ienipll  iiifinlt(E  ma<initudims  fractum  esse  atqui  divisum.  See 
 Hieron.  in  Matt,  xxvii.  51  ;  torn.  vii.  pt.  1,  p.  336,  ed  Vallars)  ;  which 
 might  have  been  caused  by  the  earthquake.  Cf  also,  the  statement  cited 
 fi-om  the  Gemara  (in  Hug's  Dissertation  above  mentioned),  that  the  folding 
 doors  of  the  Temple,  although  locked,  suddenly  burst  open  about  40  years 
 before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  All  these  accounts  hint  at  some  fact 
 lying  at  the  bottom  of  them.  ^ 
 
DID  CHRIST  FOREKNOW  IT  ?  469 
 
 resurrection  witli  his  whole  work  as  Redeemer  must,  in  the 
 outset,  make  it  appear  altogether  improbahle  that  he  should 
 not  have  foreknown  it. 
 
 "  But  if  he  looked  forward  to  his  resurrection  with  full  con- 
 fidence, how  can  we  account  for  his  conflicts  at  the  approach 
 of  death  1 "  Here  is  the  same  enigma  of  the  vmion  of  Divinity 
 and  Humanity  which  pervades  the  whole  life  of  Christ,  and  is 
 especially  prominent  at  particular  moments.  Phenomena 
 somewhat  analogous  appear  in  the  coexisting  emotions  of  the 
 Divine  and  the  natural  life  in  believers  imbued  with  the 
 Spirit  of  Christ.  The  consciousness,  in  Him,  that  death  was 
 but  a  passage  to  his  glorification  did  not  prevent  the  strivings 
 of  nature  with  suffeiings;  nor  could  the  assurance  of  speedy 
 resurrection  save  him  from  the  struggle.  All  that  we  can  do 
 is  to  distinguish  the  separate  inoments  of  his  consciousness; 
 remembering  that  faith  is  not  one  with  intuition.*  The 
 sacrifice  of  Christ  lost  as  little  of  its  moral  import  by  the 
 assurance  of  resurrection  as  does  the  self-sacrifice  of  the 
 believer  who  submits  to  the  death-struggle  in  faith  of  a  blissful 
 life  beyond. 
 
 Biit  can  it  be  proved  that  Chiist  ^^rer/tc^ec^  his  resurrection 
 to  the  disciples  ?  May  they  not,  at  a  later  period,  have  attri- 
 buted such  an  import  to  figiu'ative  expressions  of  his,  like  those 
 in  John,  which,  in  reality,  only  referi'ed  to  his  spi^tual  mani- 
 festations to  thenij  as  was  done  with  Matt.  xii.  40,  and  John 
 ii.  19? 
 
 Even  if  we  grant  that  tliis  may  have  been  the  case  with 
 some  of  Christ's  expressions  of  the  kind,  it  by  no  means  fol- 
 lows that  all  the  intimations  of  the  resurrection  were  applied 
 in  this  way  only  at  a  later  period.  The  very  fact  that  some  of 
 his  sayings  really  did  intimate  it,  may  have  led  to  the  attri- 
 buting of  this  meaning  to  others  that  did  not.  In  John  xx. 
 8,  9,  we  see  an  indication  that  the  disciples,  soon  after  his- 
 death,  began  to  call  to  miud  what  he  had  said  concerning  his 
 resui'rection,  and  hope  began  to  struggle  with  fear  in  their 
 souls.  But  John  has  preserved  to  us  one  of  (Christ's  sayings, 
 v/hich  plainly  points  to  his  resurrection,  viz.  x.  17,  18.  It  is 
 obvious  that  the  declaration,  "/  have  jwivei'  to  laij  doion  'my  life, 
 and  I  have  jwwer  to  take  it  up  again"  was  meant  to  imply 
 something  distinctive  and  peculiar  to  Christ;  it  is  entirely 
 emasculated  by  being  applied  to  that  immortality  which  is 
 
 *  Christ  is  represented,  Heb.  xii.  2,  as  leading-  the  way  for  hdievcrs,  by 
 himself  reaching  his  glory  thi-ongh  a  perfectly  tried  faith. 
 
470  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 common  to  all  men ;  nor  can  it  be  satisfied,  except  by  reference 
 to  liis  resurrection.  There  are  passages  in  the  synoptical  Gos- 
 pels (e.  g.  Matt.  x.\\.  21 ;  Luke  ix.  22)  in  which  Christ  ex- 
 pressly foretells  his  resiuTection,  along  -svith  his  suffei-ings,  sjie- 
 cifying  the  precise  interval  of  three  clays ;  but  it  is  marA'elhnas 
 that  these  precise  declarations  should  neither  have  been  under- 
 stood nor  made  the  subject  of  dii-ect  inqxiiry,  often  as  they 
 were  repeated.  Tliis  appears  unhistorical ;  indeed,  it  is  a  thing 
 to  be  looked  for,  that  tradition  would  give  to  such  expressions, 
 after  the  event,  when  their  bearing  was  better  imderstood,  a 
 more  jorecise  form  than  they  really  had  at  first.  In  John's 
 Gospel,  all  Christ's  intimations  are  distant  and  indefinite,  as  is 
 usual  in  prophecy ;  and  this  is  one  of  the  proofs  of  its  genuine 
 Apostolic  origin. 
 
 §  295. — Dejection  of  the  Apostles  immediately  after  Christ's  Death. — Their 
 Joy  and  Activity  at  a  later  Period. — The  ReappearaTice  of  Christ  necessary 
 to  explain  the  Change, 
 
 The  death  of  Christ  annihilated  at  a  stroke  the  Messianic 
 expectations  of  the  Apostles.  Their  dejection  was  complete. 
 But  if,  of  all  that  they  had  honied,  nothing  Avas  ever  realized, 
 this  dejection  could  not  have  passed  away.  It  is  tnie,  we  may 
 sujjpose  it  abstractly  possible  that,  after  the  first  consternation 
 was  over,  the  deep,  spiritual  impressions  which  Cln-ist  had 
 made  might  have  re^dved,  and  operated  moi-e  powerfully,  and 
 even  more  purely,  now  that  they  could  no  longer  see  liim  with 
 their  bodily  eyes.  But  this  view  could  not  arise,  except  along 
 with  the  recognition  of  an  liistorical  Christ  as  the  personal 
 gromad  and  cause  of  such  a  new  spii'itual  creation;  without 
 the  presupposition  of  such  a  Christ,  there  is  no  j^ossible  founda- 
 tion on  which  to  conceive  of  such  after- workings. 
 
 And  even  with  it,  we  cannot  exjtlain  (not  bare  conceivable 
 possibilities,  but)  the  actual  state  of  the  case,  \\z.  the  dejection 
 of  the  Apostles  ?d,  first,  and  what  they  were  and  did  afterward. 
 There  must  be  some  intermediate,  historical  fact  to  explain  the 
 transition ;  something  must  have  occun-ed  to  revive,  with  new 
 power,  the  almost  effaced  impression ;  to  bring  back  the  flow 
 of  their  faith  which  had  so  far  ebbed  away.  The  rea]ii)earance, 
 then,  of  Christ  among  his  discii)les  is  a  connecting  Hnk  in  the 
 chain  of  events  which  caimot  possibly  be  spared.  It  acted 
 thus  :  Their  sunken  faith  in  his  promises  received  a  new  im- 
 pulse when  these  i)romises  were  repeated  by  Him,  risen  from 
 the  dead ;  his  reappearance  formed  the  point  of  contact  for  a 
 new  si)iritual  communion  with  liim,  never  to  be  dissolved;  nay. 
 
WAS  THE  REAPPEARANCE  A  VISION  ]  471 
 
 thenceforwai'd  to  be  developed  ever  more  and  more.  Accord- 
 ing'to  their  owia  unvarying  asseverations,  it  was  the  fovindation 
 of  their  immoveable  faith  in  his  pei-son,  and  in  liimself  as  Mes- 
 siah and  Son  of  God,  as  well  as  of  their  steatlfast  hope,  in  his 
 communion,  of  a  blissful,  everlasting  life,  triumphing  over 
 death.  Without  [it,  they  never  could  have  had  that  inspiring 
 assiu-ance  of  faith  with  which  they  everyAvhere  testified  of  what 
 they  had  received,  and  joyfully  submitted  to  tortiu-es  and  to 
 death. 
 
 §  296. —  Was  the  Reappearance  of  Christ  a  Vision  ? 
 
 If,  then,  it  be  the  task  of  history  to  connect  the  course  of 
 events,  the  reappearance  of  Chiist  must  be  recognized  as  an 
 essential  link  in  the  chain  which  brought  about  the  spiritual 
 renovation  of  the  life  of  humanity.  Without  it,  the  historical 
 inqvibfer  will  always  have  an  inexplicable  enigma  to  solve.  But 
 reason,  which  demands  this  connexion  of  events,  feels  itself — 
 until  it  has  obtained  a  higher  light  by  faith — repelled  by  a 
 szipernaturcd  event,  not  to  be  explained  from  the  connexion 
 itself.  And  the  inquii'er  who  does  not  recognize  (as  we  felt 
 om'selves  compelled  to  do  at  the  outset)  the  whole  manifesta- 
 tion of  Christ  as  supernatural,  must  set  liimself  to  the  task  of 
 finding  some  natural  explanation  of  his  reappeai'ance,  in  the 
 connexion  of  cause  and  efiect. 
 
 Those  who  attempt  such  an  explanation  on  internal  grounds 
 suppose  Christ's  reappearance  to  have  been  a  vision.  Now,  in 
 any  vision  (other  than  magical,  and  such  are  precluded  by  the 
 hypothesis  of  tliis  inquiry,  which  goes  upon  natural  and  his- 
 torical grounds)  a  psychological  starting-point  is  necessarily 
 presupposed,  even  when  the  Adsion  is  said  to  be  seen  by  one 
 indi\ddual,  much  more  when  it  is  repeatedly  seen,  in  the  same 
 way,  by  different  individuals.  But  no  such  starting-point  can 
 be  foimd  in  the  mental  condition  of  the  Apostles,  such  as  it 
 has  been  described.  It  is  precisely  in  order  to  explain  the 
 change  in  that  condition  that  we  need  another  cause.  How 
 is  it  possible  to  derive  from  the  psychological  development 
 itself  a  condition  precisely  its  contrary  1  That  were  indeed  a 
 petltio  i^y'mcipii. 
 
 Moreover,  the  very  natm'e  of  the  Evangelical  narratives, 
 bearing,  as  they  do,  the  stam})  of  sensible  reality,  subverts  such 
 a  hy})othesis.  And  to  these  must  be  added  the  concurrent 
 testimony  of  a  contemporaiy,  who  himself  came  forward  A\-ithin 
 a  very  few  years  as  a  witness  for  the  reality  of  Chiist's  I'esm- 
 rection,  whose  personality  lies  before  us,  in  his  letters,  in  all 
 
472  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 tlie  traits  of  undeniable  liistorical  reality,  and  whose  convio 
 tions,  founded  on  that  resurrection,  gave  him  power  to  en- 
 counter cheerfully  all  perils,  labours,  and  sutierings  —  the 
 Apostle  Paul.  And  Paul  bears  "svitness  that  Christ  appeared 
 to  more  than  five  hundred  at  one  time.*^ 
 
 §  297.— Was  Christ's  a  real  Death  f 
 
 If  the  inquirer  still  perseveres  in  rejecting  every thiiig  super- 
 natural, he  must  have  recourse  to  external  groiuids  for  the 
 explanation  of  Christ's  reappearance,  and  deem  it  a  revival 
 from  apparent  death,  brought  about  by  the  use  of  natuial 
 means. 
 
 It  may  be  admitted,  inasmuch  as  cnicifixion  was  not  imme- 
 diately fatal,  that  one  who  had  endui'ed  its  torture  for  several 
 hoiu's  might  be  restored  by  careful  medical  aid;  although  it 
 certainly  was  not  an  easi/  thing  to  do,  as  the  examples  men- 
 tioned by  Josephus''  testify.  But  let  us,  withoiit  incpm-ing  for 
 other  signs  of  death  in  the  case  of  Jesus,  notice  the  following 
 j)oints.  Before  his  cnicifixion,  he  had  endured  multiplied  suf- 
 ferings, both  of  soul  and  body ;  he  had  been  scourged ;  he  was 
 so  worn  out  on  the  way  to  Golgotha  that  he  could  not  carry 
 his  cross,  and  even  the  Boman  soldiers  had  pity  on  him;  he 
 Vv'as  nailed  to  the  cross  by  his  hands  and  feet ;  he  had  i-emained 
 from  noon  till  towards  evening^  in  this  painful  position,  umler 
 the  rays  of  a  burning  sun ;  he  took  leave  of  the  world  in  the 
 stniggles  of  death;  his  side  was  pierced^  by  the  lance  of  a  Bo- 
 
 »  1  Cor.  XV.  6. 
 
 ^  In  his  autoLiogi'aphy,  §  75.  He  had  been  sent,  with  a  troo})  of  Roman 
 liorse,  to  the  village  of  Tekoah,  four  or  five  hours'  distant,  to  reconnoitre. 
 Jerome,  living  in  Bethlehem,  writes  of  this  village,  "  Thecoam  viculum 
 esse  in  monte  situm  et  duodecim  millibus  ab  Jerosolymis  separatum, 
 quotidie  ocuHs  cerniiam"  (t.  iv.  pt.  i.  p.  882).  Returning  from  the  ■vil- 
 lage to  Jerusalem,  Josephus  saw  several  prisoners  hanging  on  crosses, 
 "svho  must  have  been  crucified  in  the  interim,  as  he  had  not  seen  them  in 
 going  out.  On  ai-riving  at  camp,  he  begged  of  Titus  the  lives  of  three, 
 and  had  them  at  once  taken  down  (after  hanging,  therefore,  but  a  few 
 hours),  and  treated,  medically,  with  the  \itmost  care  ;  yet  but  one  out  of 
 tlie  three  .survived.  (Cf  Jirctxchneider's  remarks  on  this  account.  Stud.  u. 
 Krit.  1832,  iii.  ;  also,  JIt(>j,  Freiburg.  Zeitschrift,  No.  vii.  148.) 
 
 "  A  close  computation  of  the  Iiour.s  cannot  ])e  arrived  at  from  the  E\7in- 
 gelical  accounts.  It  is  hardly  to  l)c  supjiosed  tliat  even  the  disciples  who 
 were  eye-witnesses  were  able,  under  the  circumstances,  to  note  the  pi'ecise 
 time. 
 
 *  I  make  the  following  remarks  with  reference  to  John  xix.  31,  to  guard 
 against  the  interpolations  placed  in  this  passage  liy  a  profane  vulgarity, 
 which  read".  Jolin'.s  Go.'^pel  as  it  would  a  police  report.  The  siijj'rinfierc 
 crura  was  indeed  an  ignominious  punishment,  particularly  used  as  a  capital 
 
RExVLITY  OF  CHRIST  S  DEATH.  4T3 
 
 man  soldier;  and,  after  all  this,  lie  remained  two  niglits  and  a 
 day  in  a  fresh  grave.  Yet,  without  medical  aid  or  attendance, 
 the  same  man  walks  about,  on  a  sudden,  among  his  disciples, 
 apparently  in  sound  health  and  full  of  vital  power !  Had  he 
 appeared  among  them  sick  and  sufFei'ing,  as  he  must  have  done 
 had  he  been  restored  by  natural  means  from  apparent  death, 
 such  a  sight  could  not  have  revived  their  sunken  faith,  or  bo- 
 come  the  foundation  for  all  their  hojies.  A  weak  man  would 
 have  reappeared,  subject  to  death  like  any  other.  But,  on  the 
 contrary,  he  seemed  to  them  so  much  more  like  a  gloiified 
 being,  that  he  had  to  give  them  sensible  proofs  of  his  humanity. 
 He  appeared  to  them  thenceforth  as  one  over  whom  deatii  had 
 no  power;  and,  therefore,  became  a  pledge  that  the  life  of  man 
 should  conquer  death,  and  enjoy  for  ever  a  glorified  existence. 
 
 Even  if  all  this  could  be  made  to  agree  Avitli  a  restoration  of 
 Christ  by  natural  means  from  apparent  death,  we  should  have 
 further  to  suppose  either  that  his  life  was  subsequently  pro- 
 longed for  some  time,  or  that  he  died  soon  after,  in  consequence 
 of  his  wounds  and  sufferings.  The  former  supposition  is  a 
 mere  fancy;  there  is  no  possible  ground  for  it  in  history;  the 
 latter  is  contradicted  by  the  facts  of  his  rea2)pearance ;  there 
 
 punisliment  for  slaves  ;  but  it  certainly  was  not  immediately  fatal.  (After 
 ihe  hands  were  cut  off,  the  legs  broken,  and  tlie  body  maimed  in  various 
 ways,  the  criminals  were  thrust  into  a  pit,  still  alive  :  KoXofwo-aiTfc  ce 
 Kcti  (TviToitpavTEQ  TO.  ffKsXi],  tTi.  Z,^vraQ  tppi.;//rti'  leQ  Tiva  rucppoi'.  Polyb. 
 i.  c.  SO,  g  13.)  The  death-blow  was  afterward  given  in  some  other  way. 
 Hence  (Ammian.  Marcellin.  Hist.  xiv.  9)  it  is  expressly  added,  "fractis 
 cruribus,  occiduntuy."  The  soldiers,  having  completed  the  effraetlo  crurum, 
 on  the  two  malefactors  that  were  crucified  with  Jesus,  either  gave  them 
 tlie  death-l)lowor  permitted  them,  after  being  taken  down,  to  perish  .slowly 
 from  their  lirokeu  limbs.  But,  as  no  .signs  of  life  coidd  be  seen  in  Je.sus, 
 tliey  saw  no  necessity  to  execute  the  command,  which  was  given  solely 
 untler  the  presupposition  that  crucifixion  could  not  kill  so  soon.  Nor  waa 
 tliis  at  all  strange  ;  all  tliat  was  demanded  was  that  the  crucifixion  should 
 have  done  its  work  effectually.  They  deemed  it  enough,  therefore,  to 
 tlirust  the  lance  into  his  side,  either  to  assure  themselves  that  he  was  dead, 
 «■  to  give  him  the  death-blow.  It  would  have  been  a  bad  manoeuvre, 
 indeed,  to  do  this  as  a  mere  pretence,  with  the  intention  to  save  him. 
 Although  the  word  vvmiv  may  denote  a  slight  wound,  its  meaning  (as 
 denoting  a  severe  wound)  is  fixed  l)y  the  weapon  employed  ;  and,  more- 
 over, John  uses  it  as  sjTionyuious  with  (KKft'Tsly,  v.  37.  The  wound  could 
 not  have  been  a  small  one,  as  Christ  afterward  called  on  the  disciples  to 
 thrust  their  hands  into  it.  And  there  are  other  instances  in  which  we  read 
 of  the  death-lilow  being  given  by  piercing  the  side  with  a  lance  ;  two 
 martyrs,  Marcus  and  Marcellianus,  had  remained  a  day  and  a  night  tied 
 to  a  stake,  to  which  their  feet  were  nailed,  jussit  prrr'fectiis  amhos,  uhi 
 stahant,  lancels  jier  latent,  pa-forari  (Acta  Sanct.  Jun.  t.  iii.  f.  571). 
 
474  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 was  no  cause  of  death  apparent.  And  tlie  very  fact  of  liis 
 dying  would  have  destroyed  all  the  moral  eflect  of  Ids  resiu-- 
 rection,  wluch  consisted  solely  in  the  conviction  wrought  by  it 
 that  he,  as  Messiah,  had  conquered  death,  and  was  no  more 
 subject  to  its  power.  Moreover,  if  it  be  true  that  Christ's  suf- 
 feiings  caused  his  death,  he  is  chargeable  with  grossly  decei"\'ing 
 the  disciples  to  present  his  body  to  them  in  a  liigher  Hght,  and 
 tliereby  give  an  impulse  to  their  faith  which  it  could  not 
 otherwise  have  obtained.  And  so  that  great  fact  wliich  formed 
 the  immoveable  basis  of  the  disciples'  faith  in  Christ's  person 
 and  work,  and  in  his  plan  of  salvation,  on  which  rests  the 
 whole  fabric  of  the  Christian  Chiu'cli,  must  have  gained  its 
 high  import  from  an  actual  deception  on  the  part  of  Christ 
 liimself,  or  at  least  from  an  intentional  concealment  of  the 
 trath  ! 
 
 Had  the  Jewish  opponents  of  the  Gospel  made  use  of  this 
 hy]3othesis  to  invalidate  the  proof  of  Divinity  which  the  dis- 
 ciples derived  from  Christ's  reappearance,  and  cu'culated  it 
 freely,  it  would  neither  be  matter  of  surprise  nor  gi'ound  of 
 suspicion.  But  the  fact  that  they  did  not  make  use  of  any 
 such  hypothesis,  but  employed  any  and  eveiy  other  means  to 
 invaHdate  the  Chx'istian  faith,  is  a  powerful  j^i'oof  that  there 
 was  nothing  in  the  circumstances  of  Christ's  death  to  favour 
 such  an  explanation.  Of  a  totally  different  character  was  the 
 rejiort,  so  easily  difilised,y  that  the  disciples  had  found  means 
 to  remove  the  body  from  the  grave.  The  invention  and  cir- 
 culation of  sucli  a  report  was  most  natural ;  the  empty  grave 
 was  a  proof  that  must  be  invalidated.  But,  on  tlie  other  hand, 
 there  is  not  a  vestige  of  proof  that  the  Jews,  presupposing  the 
 accoimts  of  Christ's  reappearance  to  be  true,  ever  reported  that 
 he  had  been  revived  from  a  merely  apparent  death:  on  the 
 contrary,  the  truth  of  those  accounts  was  the  oliject  of  attack 
 from  the  very  first.  The  opponents  of  Christianity  declared 
 that  the  disciples  either  intentionally  deceived  others,  or  were 
 themselves  deceived;  e.  g.  Celsus,  who  made  great  use  of  the 
 attacks  of  the  Jews  upon  Christianity,  and  the  fables  they 
 spread  abroad  concerning  it.  And  in  this  connexion  it  was 
 that  the  accusation  of  stealing  away  the  body  was  brought 
 against  the  disciples ;  they  did  it,  it  was  said,  to  nulUfy  the 
 
 y  Matt,  xxviii.  15.  We  cannot  mistake  the  additions  of  tradition  to  the 
 original  facts.  Dial.  c.  Tr\i)h.  Jud.  f.  335,  ed.  Colon,  and  the  extracts  by 
 Eisenmen(/€r,  i.  192. 
 
INTENDED  ONLY  FOR  BELIEVERS. 
 
 475 
 
 evidence  of  the  corpse  against  tlieir  jyretence^  that  Chiist  had 
 risen  and  reappeared  to  them.  Paul  did  not  find  it  necessary 
 to  prove  that  Christ  had  really  died;  this  was  taken  for 
 gi-anted;  his  task  was  to  show  that  he  had  risen  from  the 
 dead  (1  Cor.  xv.).* 
 
 §  298.—  The  Resurrection  intended  only  fw  Believers. 
 
 The  manifestation  of  the  risen  Saviour  was  only  designed 
 for  those  who  had  been  brought  to  faith  by  his  pre\ious  minis- 
 tiy.  It  was  not  one  of  the  miracles  by  which  unbelievers 
 were  to  be  convinced.  Those  whose  dispositions  of  heart  had 
 made  them  imsusceptible  of  impression  from  his  whole  minis- 
 try would  have  received,  for  the  same  reason,  but  transient 
 impressions  from  liis  reappearance.  If  the  living  Jesus  could 
 not  lead  them  to  repent,  neither  woidd  they  have  been  per- 
 suaded by  one  risen  from  the  dead.'' 
 
 The  reappearance  of  the  risen  one,  therefore,  was  designed 
 to  seal  and  confirm  the  faith  of  such  as  akeady  believed;  to 
 form  the  point  of  transition  from  their  sensible  communion 
 with  the  visible  Christ  to  their  spiritual  fellowship  with  the 
 invisible,  but  ever-present  Saviour.  And  as  this  was  the  reason 
 why  Christ  did  not,  in  his  last  promises  recorded  by  John, 
 make  express  mention  of  his  reappearance  as  a  preparatory 
 moment,  so  we  shall  find  in  liis  conversations  with  the  disciples 
 after  the  resurrection  conspicuous  allusions  to  the  promises 
 made  before.  Here,  too,  we  find  the  reason  why  he  only  ap- 
 peared to  them  occasionally,  and  remained  among  them  but  a 
 short  time ;  they  were  not  to  accustom  themselves  anew  to 
 
 '  L.  c.  Justin  Mart.  :  "  itXavCiiaiTovQ  avQpi^TtovQX'tyovTiQ  tyni'^P^^'-" 
 »  But  I  must  believe,  contrary  to  some  of  the  latest  interj^reters,  that 
 John  (xix.  34),  as  an  eye-witness,  meant  to  prove  that  Christ  was  really 
 dead  from  the  nature  of  the  blood  that  flowed  from  the  wound.  Ver.  35 
 certainly  refers  to  ver.  34,  and  not  to  ver.  36,  37.  Although,  John,  m 
 tliese  last  verses,  referred  to  the  Old  Testament  prophecy,  it  does  not 
 follow  that  he  made  it  the  seal  of  faith  (v.  34),  particularly /or  his  reaclers, 
 who  were  not  such  as  to  be  led  to  faith  from  arguments  founded  m  Judaism. 
 Tliese  verses  are  added,  to  show  that  what  had  taken  place  was  conformed 
 to  a  higher  necessity.  It  appears  then,  that  John  thought  it  necessary  to 
 prove  t\at  Christ  had  really  died.  It  does  not  follow,  however,  that  he 
 had  in  view  any  definite  opponents  who  denied  that  fact.  As  he  intended 
 to  testify  to  the  resurrection,  it  was  necessary  that  he  should  testify  to  the 
 death,  especially  for  readers  who  were  not  believers  ;  in  view  of  the  well- 
 known  fact  that  crucifi.xion,  endured  for  a  few  hours,  was  not  in  itself 
 always  fatal.  If  he  had  definite  opponents  in  view,  they  were  probably 
 (con-esponding  to  John's  sphere  of  labour)  heathens,  and  not  Jews. 
 ^  Luke  xvi.  31  ;  cf.  pp.  143,  354. 
 
47G  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 cleave  to  liis  visible  manifestation,  but  to  learn  that  liis  reap- 
 pearance was  to  mediate  a  higher  and  everlasting  union.'^ 
 
 §  299. —  The  Women,  Peter,  and  John  at  the  Grave. 
 
 We  now  proceed  to  a  brief  statement  of  the  details  of  the 
 resurrection. 
 
 On  Sunday  morning,  the  second  day  of  Easter,  Mary  of 
 ]\Iagdalene,  with  certain  other  women,  came  to  the  tomb,  and 
 found  the  stone  removed.  They  began  to  fear  that  the  body 
 had  been  taken  away,  and  that  they  should  see  it  no  more. 
 Mary,  in  alarm,  ran  to  seek  for  John  and  Peter;  the  othex* 
 women  afterward  went  to  other  of  the  Apostles.  Peter  and 
 John  hastened  to  the  tomb.  John,  in  anxious  haste,  antici- 
 pated Peter.  Looking  down  into  the  tomb,  and  seeing  the 
 shroud  decently  dis])osed,  but  no  corpse  there,  he  stai-ted  back 
 in  consternation.  Peter,  taking  courage,  descended  into  the 
 tomb;  John  followed;  and,  now  con\'inced  that  the  bod}-  was 
 not  there,  called  to  mind'^  the  intimations  which  Christ  had 
 given '^  of  his  resurrection,  and  faith  began  to  spring  up  in  his 
 soul. 
 
 §  300. — Christ  appears  to  the  Women  at  tlie  Tomh  :  to  ilary  ;  to  the  Two 
 Diseiplcs  on  the  Way  to  Einmaus. 
 
 During  the  absence  of  the  Apostles,  Christ  appeared  first  to 
 the  two  women  who  had  gone  away;  and  they,  filled  with  joy, 
 surprise,  fear,  and  reverence,  fell  before  him  and  embraced  his 
 feet.  But  he  spoke  to  them  encouragingly :  "  Be  not  afraid.^* 
 All  that  he  said  was  encouraging  and  cheering;  and, in  bidding 
 
 *  T  agree  with  Dc  Wctte,  against  LiicTcc,  that  John  xx.  30,  does  not  refer 
 to  other  appearances  of  Christ  after  the  resurrection  not  mentioned  by 
 .Tolm,  but  thp.t  it  is  intended  as  a  word  of  concUision  to  liis  v.diole  Gospel. 
 This  is  supported  by  the  wliole  form  of  the  expression,  and  by  tlie  use  of 
 the  words  arifiiia  irouh',  which  cannot  mean  anything  but  "to  work 
 miracles."  Tlie  phrase  tvw—ioi'  tmv  fiaOijroii'  proves  nothing  to  the  con- 
 trary ;  the  Apostles  were  eye-witnesses  of  Christ's  whole  ministry  ;  and 
 .John  wrote  his  Gospel  as  one  of  these  eye-witnesses. 
 
 ''  Tlie  word  tTridTSvcjev  (John  xx.  8)  must  be  referred  to  a  previous 
 foretelling  of  the  resurrection  by  Christ  himself,  in  accordance  witli  John's, 
 usage  of  the  idea  of  "belief,"  asZ(7c/re  has  .admitted  (Commentar,  '2'""  Aufl.). 
 Tiie  sense  of  the  passage  is  as  follows  :  Tlie  disciples  needed  such  an  out- 
 ward sign  to  revive  their  faith  in  Christ's  predictions  of  his  resuiTOction  ; 
 for  they  were  not  as  yet  penetrated  by  the  conviction  that  Jesus,  as  JTcs- 
 fiiali,  had  nece'^sarUif  to  rise  in  order  to  accomjdish  the  Messianic  work 
 according  to  the  prophecies  of  Scripture.  Had  they  been,  they  would 
 have  needed  no  such  external  perception.  (Cf.  Liicl'e'a  excellent  re-marks 
 on  the  passage.)  *  Cf.  p.  469. 
 
APPEAUAXCES  OF  CHRIST.  477 
 
 tliem  announce  liis  resurrection  to  the  Apostles,  he  spoke  of 
 tlieui  as  "  brethren."^ 
 
 He  then  appeared  to  Mary,  who  had  remained  at  tlie  tomb 
 oppressed  with  anxiety  and  grief.  Seeing  him  so  unexpectedly, 
 in  the  morning  twilight,  she  did  not  at  first  recognize  him. 
 But  when  he  called  her  by  name,  she  knew  at  once  the  well- 
 accustomed  voice.  With  an  exclamation  of  joy,  she  turned 
 and  (probably)  stretched  out  her  hands  towards  him.  But 
 Jesus  bade  her  not  to  gx'asp  him:  "  Touch  me  not,  for  I  am  not 
 yet  ascended  to  my  Father ;  hut  go  to  my  brethren,  and  say  unto 
 them,  '  I  ascend  unto  my  Father  and  your  Father,  to  my  God 
 and  your  God.'  "  s  This  obscure  saying  ob\'iously  refers  to  the 
 last  discourses  reported  by  John,  and  cannot  be  understood 
 apart  from  them.  We  know  he  had  pi'omised  the  disciples 
 that,  after  ascending  to  the  Fathei",  he  would  return  and 
 remain  with  them  for  ever.  Kow  he  had  I'eturned;  and  they 
 might  deem  this  to  be  the  return  Avhich  he  had  promised,  and 
 expect  him  to  remain  with  them  thenceforth  in  the  same 
 form.  He  cautioned  them  against  so  misunderstanding  the 
 promise  as  to  cleaA^e  to  him  in  the  form  in  which  he  then 
 appeared,  because  he  had  not  "yet  ascended  to  the  Father." 
 After  that  event,  when  he  should  manifest  himself  as  the 
 glorified  one,  were  they  to  embrace  him  wholly ;  ob^dously  not 
 in  a  natui-al,  but  in  a  spiritual  sense.^'  His  stay  in  his  then 
 form  was  to  be  but  transient;  only  after  his  ascension  coidd 
 he  remain  permanently,  and  that  in  another  form.^  There- 
 fore, he  did  not  commission  Mary  to  announce  his  sensible 
 coming,  but  his  ascension  to  the  Father,  and  his  subsequent 
 revelation  to  them ;  making  no  mention  of  the  intermediate 
 and  brief  manifestation  that  was  only  to  prepare  the  way  for 
 the  higher  and  permanent  one.  The  words  "  my  brethren, 
 my  Father,  my  God,  your  God,"  served  to  remind  them  of  the 
 i:)romise  in  his  last  discourses,  viz.   that  they,  through  Him, 
 
 f  Matt,  xxviii.  10. 
 
 s  The  word  uirTeaQaL  (John  xx.  17)  means  not  only  a  momentary 
 touching,  but  to  seize,  to  r/ra^j}.  It  can,  also,  be  applied  to  the  embracing 
 of  an  object  that  one  intends  to  retain  hold  of;  and  of  the  beginning  of  a 
 continued  occupation  with  any  subject. 
 
 ''  If  the  passage  only  meant,  "  Delay  not  here  with  me,  but  go,"  we 
 might  expect  oci;rai  yap  dva^aivw  instead  of  ovttoj  ytip  ctvd€t€7]Ka. 
 
 '  It  is  clear  that  the  passage  contains  no  proof  that  Christ  ascended  to 
 heaven  immediately  after  his  conversation  with  ]Mary.  Even  with  this 
 view  (since  it  cannot  be  supposed  that  he  would  have  brought  from  heaven 
 a  body  that  could  be  physically  touched)  the  uTTTtaOat,  after  his  reappear- 
 ance from  heaven,  would  have  to  be  taken  in  a  higher  sense. 
 
478  THE  RESUKBECTION. 
 
 shoiild  enter  into  a  special  relation  to  the  Father,  whom  He, 
 in  a  sense  peculiai'ly  his  owii,  could  call  "  His  Father "  and. 
 "iiis  God;"  that  they  should,  in  communion  with  Him, 
 recognize  the  Father  also  as  "  their  Father  "  and  "  their  God," 
 and,  therefore,  have  full  confidence  that  He  would  come  to 
 them  with  the  Father. 
 
 Two  disciples J  (not  of  the  number  of  the  Apostles^)  were 
 going  in  the  afternoon  to  the  village  of  £inmaus,  about  a  mile 
 from  Jenisalem.  They  had  heard  that  the  body  was  not 
 found  in  the  grave,  and  of  what  the  women  had  seen  before 
 Chi-ist  appeared  to  them ;  but  had  not  yet  learned  that  he  had 
 risen  and  appeared.  As  they  walked,  they  conversed,  in 
 son'ow,  of  what  had  occurred ;  of  the  expectations  they  had 
 cherished  that  Jesus  should  be  the  Messiah  to  redeem  the 
 people  of  God  ;  of  the  faUiu'e  of  their  hopes,  and  their  uncer- 
 tainty as  to  the  future.  Absorbed  in  tliis  conversation,  they 
 were  joined  by  Jesus.  He  took  jiart  in  their  conversation, 
 expounded  the  Scriptiu'es  relating  to  himself,  and  pointed  out 
 the  errors  into  wliich  they  had  fallen.  Under  the  power  of 
 his  words  their  hearts  bunaed  within  them,  and  new  antici- 
 pations dawned  vipon  their  souls.  But  stUl  they  did  not 
 recognize  the  speaker,  either  because  the  thoughts  he  uttered 
 withdrew  their  attention  from  liis  ])erson;  or  because  they 
 eoidd  not  suppose  that  Jle  should  first  appear  to  tJiem;  or, 
 finally,  because  of  a  change  in  his  person.  Not  until,  as  they 
 sat  at  meat,  he  pronounced  the  l)lessing,  broke  the  bread,  and 
 gave  it  to  them,  did  they  (Usceni  Him  who  had  sat  so  often 
 with  them  at  table.  Although  the  lateness  of  their  recognition 
 may  appear  strange,  the  time  of  it — just  at  the  repetition  of 
 an  accustomed  habit — is  entirely  natural.  Thei'e  is  not  even 
 a  mystical  feature  about  it,  in  itself  considered;  although  we 
 may  })erha})s  trace,  in  the  way  in  which  he  made  himself 
 kno^v^l,  an  allusion  to  the  pi'omise  given  at  the  Last  Supper, 
 that  he  woidd  always  be  as  truly  with  them  in  their  common 
 meals  as  he  was  on  that  occasion. 
 
 §301. — Christ  appears  to  Peter;  and  to   the  rest  of  tlve  Apostles,  except 
 Thomas. — The  "Breathing"  upon  the  Apostles. 
 
 The  two  discii)les,  on  returning  to  the  city,  found  that  Christ 
 had  appeai'cd  in  the  mean  time  to  the  Apostle  Peter.'  In  the 
 evening  of  the  same  day,  the  Apostles,  Tliomas  excepted,  Avere 
 
 J  Luke  xxiv.  13. 
 
 ^  And,  therefore,  Paul  does  not  mention  the  occurrence. 
 
 »  Luke  xxiv.  33,  31 ;  1  Cor.  xv.  5. 
 
APPEARANCES  OF  CHRIST.  479 
 
 assembled  with  closed  doors,™  Avhen  Christ  suddenly  appeared 
 in  their  inidst,  ^vith  the  usual  salutation,  "  Peace  he  imto  you  " 
 — a  salutation  which,  from  his  lips,  had  a  peculiar  signiticanca'' 
 To  [)rove  that  he  was  present  in  body,  he  showed  them  the 
 woimds  in  his  hands,  feet,°  and  side.  In  taking  leave  of  them, 
 he  said,  "  Peace  he  tmto  you.  As  my  Father  luith  sent  me,  even 
 so  send  I  you^  Thus,  while  announcing  to  them  the  peace  of 
 fellowship  with  him,  he  consecrated  them  as  messengers  of 
 peace  to  all  mankind. 
 
 He  then  "  breathed "  upon  them — a  symbol  of  the  inspi- 
 ration they  were  to  receive  from  heaven,  to  fit  them  to  preach 
 liis  Gospel  and  proclaim  forgiveness  of  sins  in  his  name.P 
 Here,  again,  he  obviously  intended  to  impress  vividly  upon 
 their  minds  the  promises  given  in  his  last  discourses. 
 
 Clu'ist,  having  thus  given  a  sign  of  the  bestowing  of  the 
 DiAine  "  breath " — the  Divine  life  proceeding  fi'om  him — 
 added,  in  explanation,  "  Receive  ye  tlie  Holy  Ghost.'''  The 
 hearts  of  the  disciples  were  prepared  for  this  by  the  reap- 
 pearance of  Chi'ist  and  liis  words  to  them ;  and  the  symbolical 
 act,  recalling  the  prechctions  of  his  last  discoui-ses  in  regard  to 
 the  imparting  of  the  Sfiirit,  must  have  impressed  them 
 profoundly.  The  higher  life  received  from  Christ  had  before 
 been  covered  and  dormant ;  now,  perhaps,  a  new  consciousness 
 of  it  arose  within  them.  Still  the  full  sense  of  the  sign  and 
 of  the  words  was  lar  from  being  realized.  Not  as  yet  were 
 they  the  mighty  organs  of  that  Spirit  for  the  dilFusion  of  the 
 kingdom  of  God.     The  act,  therefore,  was  in  part  j^^opheticaL 
 
 But  it  was  something  more  than  a  sign  or  sjTnbol;  a 
 Divine  ojieration  accompanied  it.     It  formed  a  link  of  con- 
 
 ""  Luke  xxiv.  3G  ;  1  Cor.  xv.  5.  Paul  says  he  "was  seen  oi  the  ticelve ; 
 but  this  term  mij^ht  be  used  even  though  one  of  the  number  were  wanting  ; 
 the  point  was,  Christ's  appearance  to  the  Apostles  as  a  body.  Tlie  word 
 "twelve"  was  the  common  designation  of  the  Apostles  ;  the  number  was  a 
 subordinate  point.  Perhaps  even  Paul  did  not  recur  at  the  time  to  the 
 absence  of  one  of  the  number.  "  John  xiv.  27.     Cf.  p.  441. 
 
 °  It  may  be  the  case  that,  in  Luke's  account,  this  scene  is  intermingled 
 with  that  which  took  place  eight  days  later  in  presence  of  Thomaa. 
 He  relates  the  proof  of  corporeity  given  l)y  Christ  in  tasting  food  with  the 
 disciples,  which  John,  who  does  not  appear  to  give  full  details,  may  have 
 omitted,  or,  perhaps,  mentioned  in  another  connexion,  John  xxi.  13.  But 
 these  are  imimportant  points. 
 
 P  In  Luke  xxiv.  47,  48,  we  find  a  ftiller  development — John  gives  it 
 more  in  a  symbolical  form.  "  The  promise  of  my  Father"  (Luke  xxiv.  49) 
 seems  to  allude  to  Joel  iii.  1  ;  but  a  comparison  with  Acts  i.  4,  leads  us  to 
 refer  it  to  a  promise  given  by  Christ  in  the  Father's  name  ;  hence  to  the 
 last  discourses  recorded  by  John.     Cf.  Luke  xii.  12  ;  and  p.  437. 
 
480  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 nexioii  between  the  promise  of  the  Sj)irit  and  its  fulfilment ; 
 between  the  impressions  which  Christ's  personal  intercourse 
 had  made  upon  the  Apostles,  and  the  great  fact  Avhich  we 
 designate  as  "  the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  The 
 operation  of  the  promised  (Spirit  on  the  disciples  must  be 
 considered,  it  is  true,  as  a  progi-essive,  gi-adually  increasing 
 influence — a  new  inspuing  princijjle  of  their  whole  nature,  in 
 all  its  powers  and  tendencies.  But  we  must  believe,  according 
 to  the  analogy  of  all  religious  historical  develojjment,  that 
 tliere  was  a  moment,  forming  an  epoch,  in  which  the  con- 
 sciousness of  the  common  higher  life,  and  of  the  new  creation 
 of  wliich  Christ  was  the  origin,  broke  forth  with  })ecidiar 
 power  in  a  general  inspiration  of  the  first  Christian  congre- 
 gations. All  great  religious  movements  set  out  from  such 
 H'Ctual  epoch-making  moments ;  although,  indeed,  gradual 
 preparatory  stages  must  always  be  presupposed. 
 
 §  302.— C/imi  appears  to  Five  Hundred  Believers  ;  to  his  Brother  James  ; 
 to  the  Apostles,  T/u)mas  included. — Jlis  Conversation  with  Thomas. 
 
 Christ  next  appeared  to  more  than  five  hundred  discijiles, 
 assembled  in  one  place;  and  then  to  his  brother  James.  i  And 
 on  Smiday,  eight  days  after  his  first  appearance  among  the 
 li\-ing,  he  again  showed  himself  to  the  Apostles  unawares, 
 while  they  were  assembled  with  closed  doors.     Thomas  was 
 
 ■1  1  Cor.  XV.  7.  No  specific  description  of  "James"  being  given  by 
 Paul  in  this  passage,  it  was,  in  all  probability,  James  the  Just,  as  he  was 
 called,  the  brother  of  our  Lord.  Tliis  appearance  of  Christ  is  mentioned 
 in  the  £vanr/.  ad  Jlelncos  (translated  by  Jerome) ;  l)Ut  apparently  as  hiis 
 Jtj-st  appearance;  for  it  goes  on,  "After  Jesus  had  given  the  shroud  to  tlie 
 servant  of  the  high  priest,  he  went  to  James."  Perhaps  this  arose  partly 
 from  the  high  rank  assigned  to  J.ames  by  the  sect  among  whom  this  Gosv 
 pel  arose,  and  partly  from  the  fabulous  circumstances  that  are  given  in  tlie 
 account,  of  the  following  sort:  "James  had  made  a  vow,  after  partaking 
 of  the  bread  given  by  Christ  at  the  Last  Supper,  that  he  would  eat  no 
 more  until  he  had  seen  Jesus  risen  from  the  dead.  Jesus,  coming  to  him, 
 had  a  table  with  bread  brought  out,  Ijlessed  the  bread,  and  gave  it  to 
 James,  with  the  words,  "  Eat  thy  bread  now,  my  ])rother,  since  the  Son 
 of  Man  has  risen  from  the  dead  "  (Hieron.  de  Viris  Illust.  c.  ii).  Mark 
 tjie  contrast  between  the  oVyective  tone  of  the  traditions  that  form  the  basa 
 of  the  synoptical  Gospels,  and  this  tradition  of  a  party  that  owed  its  origin 
 to.an  alloying,  doctrinal  element,  remodelling  the  facts  to  serve  a  subjective 
 purpose.  Another  and  striking  c(mtrast  is,  that  our  Gospels  (and  Paul 
 following  them)  make  Christ  .ijjpear  only  to  believers,  for  reasons  explained 
 in  our  text.  Had  they  aimed  to  make  the  testimony  as  strong  as  jxissilile, 
 without  regard  to  truth,  they  would  have  represented  him  as  ajipearing 
 also  to  his  opponents.  The  statement  above  cited  from  Ecuntj.  ad  lltbr. 
 of  his  appearing  to  a  servant  of  the  high-priest,  conflicts  with  the  whole 
 unport  and  object  of  his  resurrection. 
 
APPEARANCES  OF  CHRIST,  481 
 
 now  among  them ;  the  same  Thomas  who  on  a  former 
 occasion  had  disphiyed  his  pecuhar  character  in  an  expression 
 of  doubt.  Christ's  appearance,  and  the  way  in  which  he 
 reproached  the  doiibtiiig  Thomas,  ijnpressed  the  latter  with 
 so  powerful  and  overwhelming  a  sense  of  the  Divinity  that 
 beamed  forth  in  the  manifestation  of  the  risen  Sa\dour,  that 
 he  addressed  him  by  a  title  which  had  been  ascribed  to  him, 
 so  far  as  we  know,  by  none  of  the  disciples  :  "  My  Lord  and 
 my  God!''  We  are  not  justified  in  ascribing  to  Thomas,  whose 
 immediate  impressions  impelled  him  to  this  exclamation,  a 
 fuUy-fonned  theory  of  doctrine ;  yet  how  mighty  a  cause  must 
 have  been  at  work  to  induce  a  man  trained  in  the  common 
 opinions  of  the  Jews  to  use  such  a  title  !  i" 
 
 Christ  then  said  to  Thomas,  "  Because  thou  hast  seen  oyie,  thou 
 hast  believed;  blessed  are  they  wlio  have  not  seen,  and  yet  have 
 believed."  We  must  endeavour  to  unfold  the  rich  import  of 
 these  words.  Christ  does  not  refuse  the  title  given  to  him  by 
 Thomas.  He  acknowledges  his  exclamation  as  an  expression 
 of  the  true  faith.  The  words  "believed"  and  "believe"  can- 
 not be  confined  solely  to  Christ's  resurrection ;  they  refer  to 
 his  person  and  work  in  general,  and  to  the  resurrection  only 
 as  one  necessary  element  thereof.  But  the  words  of  Christ 
 also  reproved  Thomas  for  needing  a  visible  sign  in  order  to 
 believe.  It  was  implied  in  them  that  the  long  personal  inter- 
 course of  Thomas  v,dth  Christ,  and  his  faith  in  Jesus  as  the 
 Son  of  God  and  as  superior  to  death,  should  have  been  enough 
 to  overcome  his  doubts — and,  on  this  foundation,  he  should 
 have  found  the  statements  of  Christ's  reappearance,  given  him 
 by  the  others,  anything  but  incredible.^  His  faith  should  have 
 arisen  from  Avithin,  not  waited  for  a  summons  fi'om  without. 
 And,  on  the  other  hand,  Christ  assigns  a  higher  place  to  those 
 who  are  led  to  Mth,  without  such  visible  proofs,  by  his  spiritual 
 self-manifestation  in  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel — a  faith 
 arising  inwardly  from  impressions  made  upon  a  willing  mind.* 
 
 "■  Or,  are  we  to  siippose  tliat  John  involuntarily  remodelled  the  words 
 of  Thomas,  in  accordance  with  his  own  views?  Certainly  not.  Nowhere, 
 in  John's  accounts,  do  the  disciples  speak  out  of  character.  Least  of  all 
 could  he  have  attributed  to  one  like  Thomas  more  than  he  uttered.  On 
 the  contrary,  such  an  expression,  coming  from  a  Thomas,  would,  for  that 
 very  reason,  impress  itself  more  strikingly  upon  the  minds  of  the  disciples. 
 It  is  not  difficult,  therefore,  to  account  for  the  precision  with  which  John 
 records  the  expression. 
 
 "  Christ's  reproof,  perhaps,  referred  aLso  to  the  intimations  he  had  given 
 of  his  approaching  i-esiuTcction.  '  Cf.  p.  1-1(5,  147. 
 
 2i 
 
4SB  THE  RESURRECTION. 
 
 His  words  implied  that,  in  all  after-time,  faitli  TTould  be  im- 
 possible, if  there  were  no  other  way  of  passing  from  imbelief 
 to  belief  except  by  sensible  signs  of  assurance.  The  passage 
 is  strikingly  illustrative  of  the  process  by  which  faith  is  de- 
 veloped. It  contains  the  ground  and  reason  why  tli£  Gospel 
 history  Jiad  to  he  handed  down  2')recisely  in  a  form  lohlch  could 
 not  hut  give  occasion  for  Tnamfold  doubts  to  the  human  under- 
 standing, tchen  it  conducts  its  inquiries  aj)art  from  tlt&  religious 
 consciousness  and  religious  loants. 
 
 §  303. — Christ's  Appearances  in  Galilee;  to  tJie  Seven  on  tJie  Sea  of  Ge- 
 nesareth. — Tke  Draught  of  Fishes. — The  Conven-sation  with  Peter. 
 
 We  must  now  briefly  compare  the  narrative  of  Matthew, 
 which  reports  Christ's  appearances  to  the  disciples  in  Galilee 
 alone,  with  that  of  the  other  Gospels. 'i 
 
 As  Matthew's  Gospel  I'ecords  particularly  the  events  of 
 Christ's  ministry,  of  which  Galilee  was  the  theatre,  it  might 
 be  imagined  that,  for  that  reason,  the  theatre  of  his  appear- 
 ances after  the  resuiTection  was  also,  in  that  Gospel,  iminten- 
 tionally  transferred  to  Galilee ;  this  view  would  ascribe  to  the 
 tradition  inaccuracy  as  to  localities,  but  not  as  to  the  facts 
 themselves.  But  Matthew  coincides  most  accurately,  in  this 
 particular,  with  the  account  appended  to  John's  Gospel  (ch. 
 xxi.) ;  in  which  it  is  stated  that  the  disciples  soon  retired  to 
 Galilee,  where  Christ  reappeared  to  them.  As  for  internal 
 probability,  it  is  not  likely  that  they  remained  in  the  city,  in 
 the  midst  of  Christ's  enemies,  but  rather  that  they  returned 
 to  their  own  land,  where  dwelt  most  of  Christ's  followers  and 
 friends.  Nor  is  there  anything  impossible  in  Matthew's  state- 
 ment that  Christ  bade  them  return  for  a  season  to  Galilee, 
 where  he  could  have  quiet  and  uudistiu'bed  intercourse  witli 
 them.  Their  return  thither  being  once  admitted  as  natural  in 
 itself,  it  would  naturally  follow  that  Christ  should  appear  often, 
 in  order  to  prevent  them  from  forgetting  theii-  high  calling 
 amid  the  cares  of  life;  and,  what  was  most  important,  to 
 repeat  to  them  the  promise  (before  given  at  Jerusalem)  of  the 
 gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  to  tit  them  for  the  duties  of  that 
 calling. 
 
 "  With  regard  to  Paul's  statements  (1  Cor.  xv.)  it  is  probable  that  he 
 mentioned  the  appearances  of  Christ  to  the  Apostles  (as  more  extensively 
 known)  up  to  a  certain  period,  especially  his  first  appearances  at  Jeru- 
 salem, and  stopped  short ;  it  being  unimportant  for  his  purpose  to  give  a 
 complete  enumeration,  ad<ling  only  the  manifestation  which  he  himself 
 received.     Another  explanation,  however,  might  be  given. 
 
Christ's  last  appearance.  483 
 
 Seven  of  the  disciples^  were  fishing  in  tlie  Sea  of  Genesareth. 
 During  the  whole  night  they  caught  nothing.  Early  in  the 
 moniing,  Jesus  appeared,  and  asked  them,  kindly,  as  was  his 
 wont,  '^Children,  Imve  ye  any  meatV  When  they  rei)]ied  in 
 the  negative,  he  bade  them  cast  the  net  anew  on  the  right  side 
 of  the  vessel.  John  was  the  first  to  recognize  the  Aoice  of 
 Jesus.  The  hasty  Peter  could  not  wait  imtil  the  vessel  reached 
 the  shore,  but  swam  over. 
 
 After  the  repast,  Christ  gently  reminded  Peter  of  his  pro- 
 mise, so  precipitately  made,  and  so  soon  broken:  "Lorest  thou 
 me  more  than  these  V  Peter  replied,  "  Fea,  Lord,  thou  knoivest 
 that  I  love  thee."  Then  said  Christ,  "Feed  my  lambs" '^'^  (prove 
 your  love  by  acts).  On  Christ's  third  repetition  of  the  ques- 
 tion, Peter  felt  its  force,  and  exclaimed,  in  grief,  "Lord,  thou 
 knoioest  all  things ;  thoic  kiiowest  that  I  love  thee."  The  Saviour 
 again  repeated  the  injunction,  "Feed  my  lambs;"  and  added, 
 as  a  proof  of  confidence  in  Peter's  fidelity,  that  at  some  future 
 time  he  would  have  to  sacrifice  his  life  in  the  faithful  discharge 
 of  his  calling. 
 
 §  304. — Christ  appears  in  Galilee  for  the  last  Time. — The  Commission  of 
 Hie  Apostles, 
 
 In  his  final  appearance  among  the  disciples  in  Galilee  (Matt, 
 xxviii.  18),  Christ  reminded  them  anew  of  their  calling,  viz. 
 to  preach  the  Gospel  to  all  nations;  and  to  admit  the  men  of 
 all  nations,  by  baptism,  into  his  comnmnion  and  discipleship. 
 And  he  assured  them  that  all  power  was  given  to  him,  in 
 heaven  and  in  earth,  to  establish  the  kingdom  of  God  vic- 
 toriously ;  and  that  he  would  be  with  his  own,  even  until  the 
 consummation  of  that  kingdom.'^ 
 
 ^  John  xxi.  The  account  in  this  chapter  was,  in  all  probaldlity,  re- 
 ceived from  John's  own  lips,  and  written  down,  after  his  death,  by  one  of 
 his  disciples.     There  is  no  ground  to  question  its  credibility  as  a  wliole. 
 
 "  Referring  either  to  the  preaching  of  the  Gospel  in  general,  or  in  par- 
 ticular to  the  supervision  of  the  hrst  congregations,  inasmuch  as  Peter, 
 especially,  had  the  x"P"/"'  Kvtt^vii<7t(iic:. 
 
 *  The  subsequent  scruples  of  the  disciples  to  go  among  the  heathen  do 
 not  prove  that  they  liad  not  received  this  commission.  These  scruples 
 turned  upcm  the  single  point  of  admitting  the  heathen  without  a  previous 
 conversion  to  Judaism.  Some  supiiose  that  the  naming  of  "  Father,  Son, 
 and  Holy  Ghost"  in  connexion  with  baptism  ^v.  19)  is  foreign  to  the  pas- 
 sage, and  was  derived  from  later  ecclesiastical  language.  But  that  ex- 
 pression, coming  from  the  lips  of  Christ,  was  precisely  htted  to  l>etokeii 
 the  peculiar  nature  of  the  new  communion  and  worship,  with  reference  to 
 his  earlier  teaching,  and  especially  to  his  last  discour.ses  preserved  by 
 John ;  tor  everything  there  relers  to  the  Father,  as  revealed  by  the  Son 
 
 2i2 
 
484  THE  ASCENSION. 
 
 §  305. — Christ  appears  for  the  last  Time  near  Jerusalem,  on  the  MowU 
 of  Olives. 
 
 The  minds  of  the  disciples  were  eagerly  directed  to  the  feast 
 in  conimemoratiou  of  the  giving  of  the  Law  of  the  Old  Cove- 
 nant (Pentecost) ;  the  new  relation  established  between  God 
 and  man  naturally  connected  itself  with  the  idea  of  the  old. 
 It  was  a  reasonable  expectation  that  at  this  feast  the  promise 
 of  the  Holy  Spirit,  by  which  they  were  to  be  made  powerful 
 organs  of  their  Divine  Master,  would  be  fulfilled.  They  went 
 to  Jerusalem  a  week  before  the  time  of  the  feast.  As  they 
 were  walking  to  the  Moiuit  of  Olives,  just  forty  days  after 
 Christ's  first  appearance,  they  were  joined  by  Christ,  and  be 
 repeated  the  promise  for  the  last  time. 
 
 Still  cleaving  to  their  worldly,  Messianic  hopes,  they  asked 
 the  Savdour  whether  he  intended  tlien  to  found  Ms  kingdom 
 in  its  glory  (Acts  i.  6).  In  rejjly,  he  declared,  as  he  had 
 always  done  during  Ms  life  on  earth,  "It  is  not  fur  you  to  know 
 the  times  or  the  seasons,  ivhich  the  Father  hath  j^ut  in  his  own 
 jMjwer."  It  was  enough  (he  told  them)  for  them  to  know  their 
 own  calling  in  I'eference  to  the  kingdom  of  God,  and  how  they 
 were  to  obtain  power  to  fulfil  it,  viz.  by  receivang  the  Holy 
 Ghost,  With  this  last  reply,  and  this  last  promise,  he  was 
 removed  from  their  eyes. 
 
 CHAPTER  IX. 
 
 THE  ASCENSION. 
 §  306 — Connexion  of  the  Ascension  loith  the  Resurrection. 
 We  come  now  to  treat  of  the  Ascension  of  Christ — a  close 
 of  Christ's  ministry  on  earth  corresponding  to  its  beginning. 
 It  must  not  be  thought  that  the  essential  feature  of  the  as- 
 
 to  the  Spirit,  proceeding  from  the  Father  and  imparted  by  the  Son ;  to 
 communion  with  the  Father,  through  the  Son,  in  the  Spirit  of  Divine 
 life  imparted  by  him.  It  is  possible  that  these  words  were  not  at  first 
 considered  as  a  formula  to  be  adhered  to  rigidly  in  baptism,  and  that  the 
 rite  was  performed  (the  essential  being  made  prominent)  with  reference  to 
 Christ's  name  alone ;  and  that  only  at  a  later  period  it  was  thought  that 
 the  words  constituted  a  literal  and  necessary  form.  It  is  undeniable  that 
 this  account  does  not  bear  so  distinct  a  historical  stamp  as  other  narratives 
 of  Christ's  reappearance ;  it  is  possible  that  several  occurrences,  on  separate 
 occasions,  were  taken  tugether  and  transferred  to  Galilee.  The  fact  that 
 Matthew  represents  Christ  as  reappearing  to  his  disciples  oid(j  in  Galilee, 
 while  Luke  and  Paul  testify  to  the  contrary,  may  help  us  lu  decide  upon 
 the  synoptical  accounts  of  Christ's  ministry  up  to  the  tunc  of  his  last 
 journey  to  Jerusalem,  the  theatre  of  which,  also,  thej^  ]il:ico  in  Galilee. 
 This  is  another  testimony  in  favour  of  John's  account. 
 
THE  ASCENSION. 
 
 485 
 
 cension  is  vouched  for  only  by  Luke.  It  would  rest  on  firm 
 grounds,  even  apart  from  the  particular  form  in  which  it  is 
 represented  in  Luke;  nay,  even  if  there  were  not  a  word 
 about  it  either  in  his  Gospel  or  in  the  Acts.  That  essential 
 feature  is,  that  Christ  did  not  2)((ss  from  his  earthly  existence  to 
 a  higher  through  oiatural  death,  hut  in  a  stq^ernatural  ioay;_  i.e. 
 that  he  was  removed  from  this  globe,  and  from  the  conditions 
 of  earthly  life,  to  a  higher  region  of  existence  in  a  way  not 
 conformed  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  corporeal  existence  or  to  be 
 explained  by  them.  This  fact  is  as  certain  as  his  resurrection; 
 both  must  stand  or  fall  together.  Either  the  resurrection 
 itself  must  be  denied;  or  it  must  be  considered  as  a  mere 
 natural  recovery  from  a  transitory  suspension  of  the  powers  of 
 life  (both  which  hypotheses  we  have  shown  to  be  untenable) ; 
 or  such  a  termination  of  liis  life  on  earth  as  we  have  just 
 defined,  must  be  inevitably  admitted. 
 
 Although    obscurity  rests,y    to  a  great    extent,    upon   the 
 nature  of  the  existence  of  Christ  on  earth  after  his  resurrection, 
 and  upon  the  nature  of  the  corporeal  organism  with  which  he 
 rose  from  the  dead ;  still,  this  much  is  certain,  that  the  funda- 
 mental  conception,  on  which  all  the  representations  of  the 
 New  Testament  are  founded,  exhibits  the  resurrection  only  as 
 the  means  of  transition  from  the  form  of  his  earthly  being, 
 whose  close  was  his  death,  to  a  higher  form  of  personal  existence 
 superior  to  death ;  as  the  beginning  of  a  new  life  which  was 
 not  to  be,  as  the  former,  subject  to  the  laws  of  a  corporeal, 
 earthly  organism,  but  was  destined  for  an  imperishable  deve- 
 lopment.    When  Paul  declared  (Rom.  vi.   9,  10)  that  Christ, 
 risen  from  the  dead,  should  die  no  more,  because  death  had  no 
 dominion  over  him;  when  he  opposed  this  resurrection  (2  Cor. 
 xiii.  4)  as  the  commencement  of  a  life  in  Divine  power,  to  his 
 earlier  life  in  human  weakness  through  which  he  was  made 
 subject  to  death,  he  only  gave  utterance  to  a  conviction  that 
 was  common  to  all  the  eye-witnesses  of  the  resurrection.     The 
 mode  of  Christ's  reappearance  had  made  the  same  impression 
 upon  them  all.     And  the  resurrection  had  necessarily  to  be 
 considered  as  the  restoration  from  death,  in  a  higher  form,  of 
 7  We  deem  it  better  to  acknowledge  a  problem  unsolved,  than  to  give 
 attempts  at  solution,  on  the  one  side  or  the  other,  which  will  not  satisfy  a 
 clear  thinker.     Certainly  we  over-estimate  our  knowledge  of  the  laws  of 
 the  creation  not  a  little,  when  we  deem  ourselves  authorized  to  deny  the 
 reality  of  a  phenomenon,  simply  because  we  cannot  explam  it  satisfactorily. 
 There  are  more  things  betiveen  heaven  and  earth  than  our  phtlosopuy  ma;, 
 dream  of. 
 
486  THE  ASCENSION. 
 
 his  personal  existence  (consisting  of  the  lanion  of  body  and 
 soul,  not  subject  thereafter  to  death,  but  destined  for  an  un- 
 broken eternity  of  life),  in  order  to  become  the  foundation  of 
 belief  in  an  eternal  life  of  the  glorified  human  personality,  to 
 spring  out  of  death;  in  order  to  be  the /act  on  which  this 
 faith  (as  a  historically-grounded  belief)  could  be  established. 
 The  restoration  of  an  earthly  life  from  death,  afterward  to  be 
 developed  according  to  ordinary  laws,  and  to  terminate  in 
 death,  would,  in  this  respect,  have  been  of  no  value. 
 
 §  307. — The  Ascension  necessary  for  the  Conviction  of  the  Apostles. 
 
 ]\Ioreover,  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  considered  as  a  his- 
 torical link  in  the  psychological  development  of  the  Apostles 
 (which  cannot  be  explained,  as  we  have  shown,  unless  the 
 resurrection  is  taken  for  granted),  loses  its  true  significance  in 
 this  regard,  if  Christ  were  removed  from  the  earth  in  any 
 other  than  a  supernatural  way.  How  could  his  resuri'ection 
 have  formed,  for  the  disciples,  the  basis  for  belief  in  an  eternal 
 life,  if  it  had  been  subsequently  followed  by  death  ?  Their 
 faith,  raised  by  his  reappearance,  woiild  have  sunk  with  his 
 dissolution.  Their  belief  in  his  Messiahship  would  have  been 
 rudely  shocked ;  he  would  have  been  to  them  again  an  ordinary 
 man.  And  how  could  the  conviction  of  his  exaltation,  which 
 we  find  every  where  outspoken  in  their  writings  "ndth  such 
 strength  and  confidence,  ever  have  arisen  ?  Although,  thei"e- 
 fore,  the  visible  fact  of  the  ascension  is  only  expressly 
 mentioned  by  Luke,  yet  all  that  John  says  of  his  going  up 
 to  his  heavenly  Father,  and  all  that  the  Apostles  preached 
 of  his  elevation  to  God,  pr-esupposed  their  conviction  that  he 
 had  been  supernaturally  removed  from  the  earth,  to  the  utter 
 exclusion  of  the  idea  that  he  had  departed  in  the  oi'dinary 
 wa}'  of  death.  It  was  not  necessary  to  make  express  mention 
 of  the  outward  and  visible  fact,  as  they  never  entertained  the 
 thought  that  Christ,  in  the  form  in  which  he  appeai'ed  to  them 
 after  his  resurrection,  could  be  touched  again  by  death.  When 
 he  took  leave  of  them,  and  they  saw  him  no  more,  they  never 
 thought  of  anything  else  but  that  he  had  been  supernaturally 
 removed  from  human  view  to  a  higher  region  of  existence. 
 
 .If  it  be  said  now  that  "it  does  not  follow,  because  the 
 Apostles  conceived  the  matter  so,  that  it  really  was  so ;  and 
 that  we  must  distinguish  the  fundamental  /act  from  their 
 subjective  conceptions,"  we  have  the  rej)ly  ready.  Their  sub- 
 jective conception  was  founded  in  a  /act  wliich  it  presupposed, 
 
THE  ASCENSION.  487 
 
 viz.  tlie  way  in.  which  Christ  showed  liimself  to  them  after  his 
 resurrection  ;  in  the  impression  which  he  made  u^jon  them  by 
 his  higher  and  celestial  appearance.  And  further,  apart  from 
 this  necessary  presupposition,  if  Christ  led  the  Apostles  to 
 form  such  a  subjective  conception  merely  by  mysteriously 
 appearing  and  vanishing,  by  keeping  silence  as  to  his  abode 
 and  as  to  the  end  towards  which  he  advanced,  he  must  have 
 planned  a  fraud,  to  form  the  basis  of  their  religious  conviction 
 from  that  time  on.  As  surely  as  we  cannot  attribute  such  a 
 fraud  to  the  Holy  One,  who  called  himself  the  "  Truth,"  so 
 certainly  must  we  take  for  granted  an  objective  fact  as  the 
 source  of  the  faith  of  the  Apostles. 
 
 §  308. — CouTvexion  of  all  the  Supernatural  Facts  in  Christ's  Manifestation. 
 We  make  the  same  remark  ujion  the  Ascension  of  Christ  as 
 was  before  made  upon  his  miraculous  Conception.^  In  regard 
 to  neither  is  prominence  given  to  the  special  and  SLctual/act  in. 
 the  Apostolic  wi-itings ;  in  regard  to  both  such  a  fact  is  pre- 
 supposed in  the  general  conviction  of  the  Apostles,  and  in  the 
 connexion  of  Christian  consciousness.  Thus  the  end  of  Christ's 
 appearance  on  earth  corresponds  to  its  beginning.  No  link  in 
 its  chain  of  supernatural  facts  can  be  lost,  without  taking  away 
 its  significance  as  a  whole.  Christianity  rests  upon  these  facts ; 
 stands  or  falls  with  them.  By  faith  in  them  has  the  Divine 
 life  been  generated  from  the  beginning ;  by  faith  in  them  has 
 that  life  in  all  ages  regenerated  mankind,  raised  them  above 
 the  limits  of  earthly  life,  changed  them  from  glebce  adso^ipiis 
 to  citizens  of  heaven,  and  formed  the  stage  of  transition  from 
 an  existence  chained  to  nature,  to  a  fi*ee,  celestial  life,  far 
 raised  above  it.  Were  this  faith  gone,  there  might,  indeed, 
 remain  many  of  the  effects  of  what  Christianity  had  been ;  but 
 as  for  Christianity  in  the  true  sense,  as  for  a  Christian  Chm'ch, 
 there  could  be  none. 
 
 '  Cf.  p.  17. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 A. 
 
 AccoMMonATro>r,  Christ's  use  of,  page 
 
 117,  118,  159. 
 Adulteress,  decision  in  case  of,  344. 
 Adultery,  Christian  law  of,  252. 
 Advent,  second,  of  Christ,  349,  405. 
 jEnon,  189. 
 
 Agony  in  the  garden,  451. 
 Alexandrian  theology,  had  no  influence, 
 
 K-c,  41,  98,  176,  178,  192. 
 Ambition  of  the  disciples  rebuked,  313, 
 
 3S2. 
 Annas,  455. 
 Apostles,  subordinate  teachers,  103,  121  ; 
 
 uneducated  men,  124;  training  of,  126; 
 
 trial  mission  of,  280 ;   commission  of, 
 
 after  the  resurrection,  479-482. 
 Ascension  of  Christ,  483. 
 
 B. 
 
 Baptism,  as  used  by  John,  50 ;  by  water 
 
 and  fire,  54  ;  of  Christ  by  John,  5S,  63  ; 
 
 instituted  by  Christ,  132;  of  suffering, 
 
 347. 
 Barrimeus,  381. 
 Bath  Col,  141,416. 
 Bethany,  Christ  at,  370. 
 Bethesda,  miracle  at,  233. 
 Bethsaida,  miracle  at,  295. 
 Blasphemy  against  Holy  Ghost  and  Son 
 
 of  Man,  263. 
 Body  and  blood  of  Christ,  292. 
 Bread  of  Life,  29O. 
 
 Cresar,  rights  of,  398. 
 
 Caiaphas,  379,  456. 
 
 Calvary,  463. 
 
 Cana,  175,  198. 
 
 Capernaum,  Christ  at,  171,  199.  25/  (in 
 synagogue),  289,  333. 
 
 Celibacy,  363. 
 
 Census,  in  time  of  Augustus,  22. 
 
 Centurion's  slave  healed,  257. 
 
 Children  blessed,  364. 
 
 Christ,  birth  of,  19 ;  descent  from  David, 
 21,402;  his  brothers  and  sisters,  32; 
 among  the  doctors,  34  ;  education  of, 
 36;  trade  of  ?  42  ;  plan  of,  80  ;  as  King, 
 89;  observed  Jewish  law,  90 ;  as  Pro- 
 phet, 102;  left  no  written  document, 
 104  ;  person  of,  3,  71.  98,  169,  205,  376, 
 450;  mode  of  life  with  disciples,  218, 
 
 231 ;  Light  of  the  World,  321,  327,  374  ; 
 his  struggles  of  soul,  345,  416,  447; 
 prayer  as  High-priest,  446 ;  trial  of, 
 455 ;  crucifixion  of,  464 ;  last  appear- 
 ance of,  482  ;  ascension  of,  483. 
 
 Christian  consciousness  defined,  2. 
 
 Christianity',  the  aim  of  human  progress, 
 128  ;  not  peace,  but  a  sword,  347 ;  work 
 of,  362 ;  relations  to  civU  society',  252, 
 344,  398  ;  rests  upon  supernatural  facts, 
 486. 
 
 Church,  founding  of  the,  127;  name  of, 
 129. 
 
 Commandment,  first  and  great,  399 ;  the 
 new,  433. 
 
 Crucifixion  of  Christ,  464. 
 
 D. 
 
 David,  Christ  son  of,  20,  402. 
 
 Death  of  Christ,  intimated  by  himself, 
 356;  necessity  for,  379,  4l6,  reality  of, 
 472. 
 
 Demoniacal  possession,  154, 159,  205,  259, 
 310. 
 
 De  Wette,  219,  249,  269,  .336,  366. 
 
 Disciples,  sifting  of,  294 ;  fail  to  heal  de- 
 moniac, 310;  ambition  of,  313,  382; 
 choice  of  seventy-,  333  ;  warnings  to, 
 435  ;  consolation  of,  436,  444. 
 
 Disciples  of  John,  jealous  of  Christ,  189. 
 
 Discipleship,  test  of,  256,  339. 
 
 Diseases,  miraculous  healing  of,  149. 
 
 Dives  and  I/azarus,  354. 
 
 Divine  life,  its  communication  the  highest 
 miracle,  148;  its  supports,  443. 
 
 Divhie  nature  in  Christ,  3,  71.  98.  337,  360, 
 372,  376,  407,  416,  450,  451,  469. 
 
 Divorce,  252,  361. 
 
 Ebionitcs,  64,  91,  06,  101,  152,  301. 
 Ebionitish  Gospel,  15,  50,  68,  72,  344,  368, 
 
 467,  482. 
 Elias,  the  forer\mner  of  Christ,  309. 
 Emmaus,  conversation  on  the  way  to, 
 
 478. 
 Ephraim,  Christ  at,  379. 
 Essenism,  38. 
 
 Eucharist,  institution  of,  430. 
 Evangel,  ad  Hebrseos.      [See  Ebionitish 
 
 Gospel  1 
 Evil,  origin  of,  157.    [See  Sin.] 
 Exorcists,  141,  16O,  261. 
 
490 
 
 INDEX- 
 
 Faith,  presupposes  the  "  drawing  of  the 
 Father,"  no,  290;  different  stages  of, 
 l-l/i  17-t,  185,  480;  the  necessary  condi- 
 tion of  aid  from  Christ,  2i0,  290,  312; 
 the  centurion's,  259 ;  power  of,  312,  395, 
 480 ;  faith  and  forgiveness,  228,  305, 
 
 Fasting,  218,  253. 
 
 Father,  Christ's  oneness  with,  360,  439. 
 
 Feet,  washing  of,  428. 
 
 Fig-tree  cursed,  393. 
 
 Fire  to  be  Icindled,  34/. 
 
 Forgiveness  of  sins,  228. 
 
 Gadarcne  demoniac,  205. 
 
 Galilee,  theatre  of  Christ's  labours,  163, 
 192,  198;  second  ministry  in,  240;  ap- 
 pearances in,  after  resurrection,  481. 
 
 Gethsemane,  448. 
 
 God,  as  spirit,  knowledge  of,  195, 399 ;  the 
 only  Good,  366. 
 
 Grace,  unmerited,  386,  413. 
 
 H. 
 
 Hades,  296. 
 
 Heathen,  329,  351,  414. 
 
 Herod,  30  ;  Antipas,  190,  355,  450. 
 
 Herodians,  397. 
 
 History,  relation  to  miracles,  139 ;  as  com- 
 mentary, 19'),  247. 
 
 Holy  Ghost,  at  Christ's  baptism,  "1 ;  agent 
 of  new  bu'th,  186;  blEisphemy  against, 
 263 ;  breathed  upon  Apostles,  4"8.  [See 
 Spint.'\ 
 
 Huss,  John,  400. 
 
 Hypocrisy  rebulied,  2/8.  [See  Sermon  on 
 the  MountJ] 
 
 Immortality,  399. 
 Inspiration,  8,  48,  62,  183. 
 Interpretation,  97,  104. 
 
 Jairus's  daughter,  209. 
 
 James,  the  brother  of  Christ,  32,  480. 
 
 James  and  Joim,  sons  of  Zebedee,  174, 
 383. 
 
 Jericho,  Christ  at,  380. 
 
 Jerusalem,  Christ's  ministry  frequently 
 exercised  there,  164;  his  first  labours 
 at,  178;  second  journey  to,  233;  last, 
 380  ;  triumphal  entry,  390 ;  weeps  over, 
 393  ;  judgments  predicted  upon,  404. 
 
 Jesus,  the  name,  17. 
 
 Jewish  people,  their  relations  to  Christ, 
 217  ;  liis  ministry  confined  to  them, 
 why,  281,  305. 
 
 John  the  Bai)tist,  calling  of,  45  ;  accounts 
 of,  obscure,  46  ;  mode  of  life,  49  ;  rela- 
 tion to  Messiah,  54  ;  possible  wavering 
 in  his  convictions,  60,  212  ;  his  message 
 from   prison,  62,    212;  lie  points    out 
 
 Christ,  169;  final  testimony,  190 ;  his 
 position  as  defined  by  Christ,  214. 
 
 John  the  EvangeUst,  joins  Christ,  170 ;  his 
 disposition  and  tendencies,  170, 187,  43". 
 
 John's  Gospel,  its  credibility  and  genuine- 
 ness, 7,  177,  181,  191,  319;  silent  as  to 
 miraculous  conception,  17  ;  objects  of, 
 71,  100  ;  compared  with  synoptical,  115, 
 163,  379,  447;  its  omissions,  328. 
 
 Jonah  the  Prophet,  sign  of,  144,  266. 
 
 Josephus,  as  authority  on  John  the  Bap- 
 tist, 49. 
 
 Judas  Iscariot,  123,  270,  294,  389,  419, 
 429,  453. 
 
 Judgment,  intimated  by  Christ,  236,  349, 
 407;  ia  Matt.  xxv.  412. 
 
 K. 
 
 Keys,  power  of  the,  296. 
 
 Kingdom  of  God,  longed  for  under  old 
 covenant,  339 ;  longed  for  in  Israel  at 
 Christ's  time,  24 ;  also  by  the  heathen, 
 26 ;  the  object  of  Christian  longuig,  338  ; 
 way  prepared  for  by  Baptist,  50,  seq. ; 
 its  twofold  bearing,  88 ;  relation  of  new 
 to  old  form,  90,  180;  realized  by  Christ, 
 not  as  a  worldly,  but  a  spiritual  kuig- 
 
 dom,  76,  78,  82,  seq.,  224,  456,  458  ; 
 realized  by  him,  also,  for  the  heathen, 
 277,  281,  331,  352,  409 ;  means  employed 
 by  Christ  in  founding  it,  102;  based' on 
 his  self-manifestation  in  u-ord,  102,  seq., 
 460  ;  in  miracles,  133,  seq. ;  in  nifferint:s, 
 85,  86,  347,  seq.,  451 ;  its  law  of  deve- 
 lopment, 110;  its  growth  and  progress, 
 196,  203,  224,  345;  the  Sermon  on  the 
 Mount,  its  Magna  Charta,  240  ;  its  tri- 
 umphs, 298,  337,  406  ;  its  nature  illus- 
 trated, 365,  408,  410,  460. 
 
 Last  Supper,  425. 
 
 Law,  observed  by  Christ,  90,  247,  25",  318, 
 
 358 ;  his  "  destroying  and  fultiUing  of," 
 
 94,  248   [see  Moral] ;   law  aud  gospel, 
 
 90,  seq.,  216,  seq.,  247,  seq. 
 Lawyers,  269,  401. 
 Lazarus,  famUy  of,  370 ;  death  of,  373  ; 
 
 resurrection  of,  377. 
 Legalism,  Jewish,  contrasted  with  Clu'is- 
 
 tian  liberty,  216,  367,  401. 
 Leper  healed,  257  ;  ten  healed,  357. 
 Light  of  the  World,  Christ  the,  21",  327, 
 
 374. 
 Logos,  64,  100. 
 Love,  the  quickening  principle  of  Divine 
 
 life,  227;  Ohristiaii  law  of,  253,  433. 
 
 M. 
 
 Magians,  29. 
 
 Mammon  of  unrighteousness,  301, 
 
 Marriage,  408. 
 
 Martha,  370. 
 
 Mary  Magdalene,  227. 
 
 Mary,  sister  of  lAzariis,  3/0,  388,  477. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 491 
 
 Mary,  mother  of  Jesus,  14,  ifi,  21,  25,  175. 
 
 Matthew,  usage  of,  in  quoting  from  Old 
 Testament,  108;  his  calling,  229;  his 
 Gospel  orig-inally  in  Hebrew,  7;  prin- 
 ciple on  which  he  arranges  his  matter 
 (connexion  of  fact  and  thought),  113, 
 2l6,  223,  241,  281,  340,  346. 
 
 Meekness,  243. 
 
 Merit,  no  place  in  kingdom  of  God,  386, 
 413. 
 
 Messiah,  Old  Testament  idea  of,  86,  401, 
 seq.;  in  Israel,  23;  Simeon's,  26;  hea- 
 then longing  for,  27 ;  whether  only  -re- 
 vived by  John  Baptist,  45,  55,  169,  212; 
 Nicodemus,  183;  Christ  the  conscious 
 Messiah,  33,  43,  82 ;  declares  himself 
 such  (from  beginning),  213,  236,  237, 
 288,  296,  317,  359,  391,  456;  canial  con- 
 ceptions of  Jews  and  cUsciples  rebuked, 
 235,  seq.,  242,  289,  297,  313,  323,  359, 
 364,  382;  designations  of,  98;  Christ 
 recognized  as,  by  John,  56,  69,  168. 
 
 Miracle  of  draught  of  fishes,  17I;  water 
 changed  to  wine,  175;  storm  subdued, 
 204 ;  issue  of  blood,  209 ;  Jairus's 
 daughter,  210;  widow's  son,  210;  lame 
 man,  235;  leper,  257;  demoniac,  259, 
 310;  paralytic,  271,  274;  hifirm  woman, 
 275 ;  feeding  of  five  thousand,  284  ; 
 walking  on  the  water,  288 ;  at  Beth- 
 saida,  295 ;  man  bom  bluid,  326 ;  ten 
 lepers,  357;  raising  of  Lazarus,  3/7; 
 blind  Bartimeus,  381 . 
 
 Miracles  connected  with  Christ's  teach- 
 ing, 133  ;  their  relation  to  the  covu-se  of 
 nature,  137  ;  to  Christ's  manifestation, 
 138;  to  history-,  139;  object  of,  141, 
 145,  175,  395;  witnesses  to  Christ's 
 Messiahship,  140,  146;  in  regard  to 
 supernatural  agency,  148  ;  wrought  on 
 material  nature,  162. 
 
 Moral  stand- point  distinguished  from 
 legal,  249,  254,  361. 
 
 Moses,  forerunner  of  Messiah,  240. 
 
 Mount,  Sermon  on,  240. 
 
 Muller,  Daniel,  144. 
 
 Murder,  Christian  law  of,  251. 
 
 Mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  108. 
 
 Mythical  theory  refuted,  13,  21,  24,  27,  32, 
 417. 
 
 Mythology,  difference  from  Theism,  19. 
 
 Mytluis,  cUstuiguished  from  parable,  111. 
 
 N. 
 
 Nain,  miracle  at,  210. 
 
 Kama    of    Christ,    acting    ia   the,    315 ; 
 
 prayer  in  the,  440,  445. 
 Nathanael,  calling  of,  174. 
 Nazareth,    return    to    from    Egypt,    31  ; 
 
 Christ's  first  preaching  at,  42,  199- 
 Neighbour,  love  of,  253. 
 New  birth,  185. 
 Nicodemus,  uiter\'iew  -with  Christ,  183  ; 
 
 m  Sanhedrim,  326. 
 
 O. 
 
 Oaths,  39,  252. 
 
 Old  and  New  Dispensations,  relations  of, 
 215. 
 
 Old  Testament,  use  of  passages  from  by 
 
 Christ,  120,  359,  362,  398,  4U1. 
 Olshauseu,  211. 
 
 Parable,  idea  of,  ill;  use  of  by  Christ, 
 
 105,  107. 
 Parables  of  the  kingdom  of  God,  87; 
 order  of  in  New  Testament,  113;  not 
 wanting  m  John,  1 16;  parable  of  sower, 
 200  ;  drag-net,  203  ;  wheat  and  tares, 
 203 ;  new  wine  in  old  bottles,  220 ; 
 procUgal  son,  231  ;  Pharisee  and  pub- 
 Ucan,  233 ;  great  Supper,  270  ;  unjust 
 steward,  298 ;  good  Shepherd,  329 ; 
 tower,  342  ;  salt,  342  ;  precious  pearl, 
 343 ;  mustard  seed,  345 ;  Dives  and 
 Lazarus,  354  ;  pomids,  384  ;  labourers 
 in  vineyard,  385  ;  fig-ti-ee,  393  ;  good 
 Samaritan,  400  ;  wedding-feast,  408 ; 
 wicked  husbandman,  410  ;  talents,  410j 
 ten  virghis,  412. 
 
 Paradise,  465. 
 
 Passover,  but  one  in  synoptical  Gospels, 
 three  in  John,  163;  first,  178;  second, 
 233  ;  last,  380. 
 
 Paul,  used  written  memoirs  of  Christ's 
 life,  7  ;  silence  as  to  miraculous  con- 
 ception, 17;  assumes  Christ's  descent 
 from  David,  20,  402 ;  confirms  the 
 account  of  the  choice  of  the  Apostles, 
 123  ;  a  witness  of  the  resuiTection,  472, 
 478 ;  uidirectly  of  the  ascension,  484  ; 
 reports  Chi-ist's  words,  93,  430 ;  alludes 
 to  them,  299  ;  his  position  among  the 
 Apostles,  125;  "wise  as  serpent,"  &c. 
 303 ;  his  doctrine  of  the  person  of 
 Christ,  101  ;  his  teachings  presuppose 
 Clu-ist's  as  germs,  93,  95,  108,  199,  217, 
 233,   312,  386. 
 
 Peace,  Christ's  salutation  of,  441. 
 
 Pera;a,  Christ  at,  361. 
 
 Peter,  his  first  meetmg  wth  Christ,  171 ; 
 his  call  and  character,  173,  280,  297,317, 
 369,  428,  434,  454,  482  ;  his  acknow- 
 ledgments of  Clu-ist,  147,  294,  295  J  ob- 
 tains power  of  keys,  296. 
 
 Pharisees,  36,  165,  184,  101,  218,  228, 
 235,  239,  259,  265,  267,  273.  2/6,  321, 
 329,  350,  seq.,  396. 
 
 Pharisaism,  97,  253,  401. 
 
 Philip  and  Thomas,  conversation  with 
 Christ,  438. 
 
 Pilate,  459,  seq. 
 
 Plan  of  Christ,  80  ;  not  altered,  84. 
 
 Prayer,  forms  of,  222 ;  Lord's  Prayer, 
 223 ;  not  Pharisaical,  253  ;  in  name  of 
 Christ,  440  ;  of  Christ  as  High-priest, 
 446  ;  for  his  enemies,  465. 
 
 Prophecy,  unconscious,  23. 
 
 Providence,  283. 
 
 Prudence,  ui  mmistry,  299,  303 ;  Christian, 
 
 412. 
 Publicans,  Christ  with,  229. 
 Punitive  justice,  151. 
 
 Rabbi,  title  of,  as  applied  to  Christ,  42. 
 
492 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Raising  of  the  dead,  l6l. 
 
 Reason,  pride  of,  30". 
 
 Reign  with  Christ,  369. 
 
 Relatives  of  Christ,  31,  260,  319. 
 
 Resun-ection,  intimated  by  Christ,  237, 
 3/5,  398  ;  of  Christ,  468. 
 
 Revelation,  stages  of,  194  ;  Christ's  doc- 
 trine as,  320. 
 
 Revenge,  253. 
 
 Revi^ard  in  heaven,  246,  253;  rewards, 
 passion  for  rebuked,  387. 
 
 Ruler,  Christ's  conversation  with,  323. 
 
 S. 
 
 Sabbath,  235,  275,  seq. 
 
 Sabbath-breaking,  Christ  accused  of,  235, 
 275. 
 
 Sacraments.  [See  Eucharist  and  Bap- 
 tism."[ 
 
 Sacrifice  of  purification,  24. 
 
 Sadducees,  36,  51,  398. 
 
 Salome,  382. 
 
 Samaritan,  good,  parable  of,  400. 
 
 Samaritan  woman,  conversation  with, 
 93,  192. 
 
 Samaritans,  197;  reasons  for  their  ex- 
 clusion from  first  mission  of  Apostles, 
 281  ;  leper  cured,  357. 
 
 Sanhedrim,  movements  of  against  Christ, 
 326,  328,  378,  396,  418,  453,  457. 
 
 Satan,  personality  of,  79>  158,  262;  king- 
 dom of,  336. 
 
 Schleiermacher,  3,  14,  24,  93,  99,  128, 
 158,  172,  215,  272,  315,  343,  353,  358, 
 382. 
 
 Self-denial,  341. 
 
 Sermon  on  the  Mount,  115,  240. 
 
 "Servants"  distinguished  from  "friends," 
 
 126. 
 Seventy  disciples  chosen,  333. 
 Shepherds,  announcement  to,  23. 
 Simeon,  prophecy  of,  26. 
 Sin  and  physical  evU,  relations  of,  150, 
 
 152,  236,  327,  353. 
 Slavei-y,  39. 
 Son  of  God,  title  of,  as  applied  to  Christ, 
 
 98,  100. 
 Son  of  Man,  98 ;  blasphemy  against,  264. 
 Sower,  parable  of,  200. 
 Spirit,  Holy,  promise  of,  440,  446.     [See 
 
 Holy  Ghost.-] 
 Star  of  the  wise  men,  27. 
 Strauss,  4,  14,  184,  197,  234,  249,  258,  263, 
 
 269,  273,315,  354,  370,  376,  388,  391,  407, 
 
 420,  463. 
 
 Sufferings  of  Christ,  intimated  by  him- 
 self, 183,  19O,  416. 
 
 Synoptical  Gospels,  their  origin,  7 ;  diffe- 
 rence between  them  aud  John,  114,  163, 
 
 448. 
 
 Syro- Phoenician  woman,  305. 
 
 Tabernacle,  feast  of,  Christ  attends,  319. 
 
 Talents,  parable  of,  410. 
 
 Teaching,  Christ's  mode  of,  104  ;  pre- 
 sented seeds  of  thought,  106;  Christ's 
 not  confined  to  parables,  114. 
 
 Temple,  Chiist's  manifestation  greater 
 than,  92,  278  ;  "  destroy  tliis,"  &c.,  145, 
 180;  purifying  of  the,  178. 
 
 Temptation,  225. 
 
 Temptation  of  Christ,  74 ;  its  import  as  a 
 whole,  77. 
 
 Theocracy  of  Old  Testament,  connexion  of 
 Christ's  plan  with  it,  82,  .369,  403  ;  dis- 
 tmguished  from  Christ's  by  parables, 
 87  ;  development  in  New  Testament, 
 247,  318. 
 
 Thomas,  his  doubts,  148;  Christ's  appear- 
 ance to,  480. 
 
 Transfiguration  of  Christ,  308. 
 
 Trausubstantiation,  292,  431. 
 
 Tribute  to  Csesar,  Christ's  decision  on, 
 397. 
 
 Triumphal  entry,  390. 
 
 Truth,  194;  power  of,  269,  relation  to 
 freedom,  324 ;  spirit  of,  440,  444. 
 
 U. 
 
 Unpardonable  sin,  263. 
 
 V. 
 
 Vanity,  warning  against,  337. 
 
 Vme  and  branches,  similitude  of,  442. 
 
 AV. 
 
 Water  and  the  Spirit,  birth  of,  186. 
 
 Water  of  Life,  192,  322. 
 
 Way,  Christ  the,  438. 
 
 Wealth,  right  use  of,  298  ;   dangers  of, 
 
 363. 
 Weisse,  15,  20,  115,  418. 
 Widow,  the  importunate,  350. 
 Widow's  mite,  404. 
 Worship  in  spirit  and  truth,  194. 
 
 Zaccheus,  382. 
 
PASSAGES  or  SCRIPTURE 
 
 QUOTED  OR  ALLUDED  TO. 
 
 OLD  TESTAMENT. 
 
 Genesis. 
 
 ii.  24      ..     ..        Page  362 
 
 iii.  15 239 
 
 Exodus. 
 
 xiii.  2,  12     25 
 
 xxi.  32  . .     422 
 
 Leviticus. 
 
 xii.  2     25 
 
 xiv.  1 257 
 
 Numbers. 
 
 iii.  45 25 
 
 iv.  3       44, 325 
 
 viii.  25 325 
 
 Xi.  8       50 
 
 xviii 25 
 
 Deuteronomy. 
 
 vi.  l6     75 
 
 viii.  3 74 
 
 xviii.  15 239 
 
 x\'iii.  20,  22 458 
 
 1  Samuel. 
 
 xxi 2/8 
 
 Nehemiah. 
 
 iii.  15 328 
 
 Psalms. 
 
 ii.7 72 
 
 viii.  3 393 
 
 xxii 420 
 
 xxii.  17 464 
 
 Ixxxii.  6 36o,  402 
 
 xci.  11,  12 75 
 
 ex.  1       402,  403 
 
 cxviii.  25,  26       . .     . .  392 
 
 Isaiah. 
 
 vi.  9       108 
 
 \ii.  14 16 
 
 xxxiii.  16      23 
 
 XXXV.  5 213 
 
 xxxviii.  10 29C 
 
 liii Page  27,  169 
 
 lvi.7      179 
 
 Ixi.  1      ..     ..   199,213,242 
 
 Jeremiah. 
 vii.  11 179 
 
 EZEKIEL. 
 XXXVi.  25       50 
 
 Daniel. 
 vii 98 
 
 HOSEA. 
 
 vi.  6      91,231 
 
 Joel. 
 iii.  1      479 
 
 MiCAH, 
 v.  1         22 
 
 Zechariah. 
 
 ix.  9      391,  392 
 
 xi.  12 421 
 
 xiii 50 
 
 Malachi. 
 
 iii 50 
 
 iii.  1      214 
 
 Wisdom  of  Solomon. 
 vii.  27 405 
 
 NEW  TESTAMENT. 
 
 Matthew. 
 
 i.  1-17 19,  20 
 
 i.  18-25 21 
 
 i.  25        32 
 
 ii.  1         21,  22 
 
 ii.  1-23 26,  31 
 
 iii.  1-12 45,  54 
 
 iii.  7       51,52 
 
 iii.  11     171 
 
 iii.  13-17       ..      ■•       53,  72 
 iii.  14 25 
 
 iv.  l-il ..     ..  Page  73,  80 
 
 iv.  2-4 74 
 
 iv.  12 191 
 
 iv.  13,  seq 171 
 
 iv.  18,  19      172 
 
 iv.  21     174 
 
 iv.  25 165 
 
 v.-vii 241,  257 
 
 V.  12       245 
 
 V.  13-16 84,  88 
 
 V.  17       94 
 
 V.  25,  26         35 
 
 V.  40,  42         253 
 
 vi.  1-18 254 
 
 vi.  7-15 223 
 
 vi.  21,22        110 
 
 vi.  24 303 
 
 vii.  1-5 254 
 
 vii.  6      240,  303 
 
 vii.  7-11        ..     ..   223,  227 
 
 vii.  12 249 
 
 TO.  13-24       255 
 
 vii.  14 347 
 
 vii.  21 256 
 
 vii.  22 339 
 
 vii.  24-27      256 
 
 vii.  29 43 
 
 viii.  1-4         257 
 
 viii.  5-13       ..     ..  101,  257 
 
 viii.  5,  9        101 
 
 viii.  5,  10      210 
 
 \Tii.  10 147 
 
 viii.  14-17     198 
 
 viii.  ip-22     340 
 
 viii.  22 116 
 
 viii.  23-27     204 
 
 viii.  28-34 205 
 
 ix.  1-8 271 
 
 ix.  2-5 154 
 
 ix.  8      99 
 
 ix.  9-13         229 
 
 ix.  10 230 
 
 ix.  11-17       218 
 
 Lx.  13 231 
 
 ix.  14     126,  219 
 
 ix.  15      86,  197 
 
 ix.  16 220 
 
 ix.  18 183 
 
 ix.  18-26        ..      ..    209,  210 
 
 ix.  27-34        260 
 
 ix.  3;,  38       334 
 
 X 280,335 
 
494 
 
 PASSAGES  OF  SCHIPTURE 
 
 X.  3       ..     ..       Page  230 
 
 X.  5,  6 281 
 
 X.  13       297 
 
 X.  16      298 
 
 X.  17-20  437 
 
 X.  26      197 
 
 X.  26,  27       271 
 
 X.  34-36  346 
 
 X.  38        297,  339 
 
 X.  42        314 
 
 xi.  2-3 62 
 
 xi.  2-19        -.     ..   212,  216 
 xi.  12     ..       ..     46,  214,  215 
 
 xi.  16 51 
 
 xi.  20-24         335 
 
 xi.  20-27        216 
 
 xi.  25      1 24 
 
 xi.  25-2/         338 
 
 xi.  27 101 
 
 Xi.  28 84 
 
 Xi.  28-30        216 
 
 xi.  30 93 
 
 xii.  1      75 
 
 xii.  1-8 278,279 
 
 xii.  5-8.  .92,  99, 145, 181,236 
 
 xii.  6      236 
 
 xii.  13 276 
 
 xii.  18 277 
 
 xii.  22 160,259 
 
 xii.  24-26      260 
 
 XU.  28 184,233 
 
 xii.  30,  31     261 
 
 xii.  31-33      263 
 
 xii.  32 263,  324 
 
 Xii.  35 21 
 
 xii.  39 76,144 
 
 xii.  40 266,469 
 
 xii.  41-43      263 
 
 xii.  43 120 
 
 xii.  43-45       263 
 
 xii.  46-50       265 
 
 xiii 113 
 
 xiii.  1-23       200 
 
 xiii.  10 108 
 
 xiii.  11,  12,  13'     ..      ..    109 
 
 xiii.  16,  17 3.38 
 
 xiii.  20-23 202 
 
 xiii.  24  30 203 
 
 xiii.  44-46 342 
 
 xiii.  47-50 203 
 
 xiii.  52 105,  404 
 
 xiii.  54 31 
 
 xiii.  54-58 200 
 
 xiii.  55 17,  32 
 
 xiv.  1,  2       295 
 
 Xiv.  2 284 
 
 xiv.  3,  5         191 
 
 xiv.   13-21 284 
 
 xiv.   22-33 288 
 
 XV.  1      165 
 
 XV.  1-20          279 
 
 XV.  II 91 
 
 XV.  21-28        305 
 
 XV.  21 288,  295 
 
 XV.  29-39       288 
 
 XV.  32 287 
 
 XV.  39 288 
 
 xvi.  1-4           352 
 
 xvi.  1     287,  290 
 
 xvi.  6    . .      . .        Page  2/0 
 
 -Wi.  9,  10       287 
 
 .\vi.  13-28 288 
 
 xvi.  14 83,  148 
 
 xvi.  16 98 
 
 xvi.  16,  17 147 
 
 xvi.  18 130,  296 
 
 xvi.  20-28 297 
 
 xvi.  21 309,  470 
 
 xvi.  24 298,  339 
 
 xvi.  39 287 
 
 xini.  1-21      ..      ..  307,  312 
 
 xvii.  9 308 
 
 xvii.  24 42 
 
 xvii.  24-27    ••     ••  317,  318 
 wnu.  1-5        ..       ..   313,  315 
 
 xviii.  3 185 
 
 xviii.  12-14  ..       ..   231,  232 
 
 xix.  1 361 
 
 xix.  2-12      361 
 
 xix.  8 252 
 
 xix.  13-15 364 
 
 xix.  16-24     ..     ..365,  seq. 
 xix.  17  ..      ..67,  101,  367 
 
 .xix.  27 36g,  387 
 
 xix.  28   ..    85,  122,  185,  3fi9 
 
 XX.  1-16          385 
 
 XX.  2       421 
 
 XX.  16 385 
 
 XX.  17-19     379 
 
 XX.  20-29       382 
 
 XX.  25,  seq 131 
 
 XX.  28 428 
 
 XX.  30,  seq 380 
 
 xxi.  1-22       ..      ..  390,  396 
 
 xxi.  2-7 391 
 
 xxi.  12,  13 1/8 
 
 xxi.  14 166 
 
 xxi.  15,  16 394 
 
 xxi.  18  394 
 
 x.xi.  21  395 
 
 xxi.  25 397 
 
 xxi.  32 51,  53 
 
 xxi.  33-44 410 
 
 xxi.  46 397 
 
 XXii.  1-U      408 
 
 xxii.  14 385 
 
 XXii.  15-40     ..      ..   397,  400 
 
 xxii.  22  408 
 
 xxii.  23,  seq.       ..     36,  398 
 
 x.xii.  29-32 399 
 
 xxii.  32         399 
 
 xxii.  40         247 
 
 xxii.  41,  seq.       ..    101.401 
 
 xxiii.  (var.)      91,  267,  271, 
 
 272,  405 
 
 xxiii.  3 270 
 
 xxiii.  25 267 
 
 xxiii.  34 270 
 
 xxiii.  37-39  . .     . .    165, 356 
 xxiv.  (var.)  . .  350,  405,  407 
 
 xxi  v.  28        350 
 
 XXV 410 
 
 XXV.  1-13       412 
 
 XXV.  14-30 410 
 
 XXV.  28 412 
 
 XXV.  31-46 412 
 
 xxvi.  3-5       396 
 
 XXVi.  5 418 
 
 xxvi.  6  ..  . .  Page  229 
 xxvi.  6-13      . .       ..  388,  389 
 
 xxvi.  14-16 419 
 
 xxvi.  17-19   ..     ..427,  seq. 
 
 xxvi.  20-25 428 
 
 xxvi.  26-29  • .     .  -  429,  seq. 
 
 xxvi.  45 453 
 
 xxvi.  53 75 
 
 xxvi.  57 — xxvii.  26,  410-418 
 
 xxvi.  61 181 
 
 xxvi.  63 98 
 
 xxvi.  64 98 
 
 xxvi.  65,  66 412 
 
 xxvii.  5 421,428 
 
 xxvii.  7 421 
 
 xxvii.  9 421 
 
 xxvii.  11 459 
 
 xxvii.  20      438 
 
 xxvii.  34      464 
 
 xxvii.  42       75 
 
 xxvii.  51       468 
 
 xxviii 422-436 
 
 xxviii.  19      131 
 
 M.\I(E. 
 
 i-2-8      49-54 
 
 i.  9-11 54-73 
 
 i.  12,  13 73-80 
 
 i.  16-20 171-173 
 
 i.  29-39 198 
 
 ii.  1-12 271 
 
 ii.  I3-I7 229,230 
 
 ii.  15-22 218 
 
 ii.  18      219 
 
 ii.  20      86,  198 
 
 ii.  21      220 
 
 ii.  24       87 
 
 ii.  23-28 278 
 
 ii.  28      92 
 
 iii.  1-6 274 
 
 iii.  6       397 
 
 iii.  14     129 
 
 iii.  21-29       266 
 
 iii.  22-30  . .  . .  259-263 
 iii.  31-35  ..  ..  32,265 
 iv.  1-20..       ..         200,  seq. 
 
 iv.  2        201 
 
 iv.  10 107 
 
 iv.  u 108 
 
 iv.  10-25        ..      ..     109,202 
 
 iv.  21-25         109 
 
 iv.  22     271 
 
 iv.  26-29       346 
 
 iv.  30-32         345 
 
 iv.  31       88 
 
 iv.  35;  V.  43..      ..    204-212 
 
 iv.  36-41         204 
 
 V.  1 161 
 
 V.  1-20 205 
 
 V.  19       208 
 
 V.  21        209 
 
 vi.  1-6 200 
 
 vi.  3        49 
 
 vi.  7-13 280-293 
 
 vi.  14-16        284 
 
 vi.  17-20        191 
 
 vi.  30-44         ..      ..   284,  288 
 
 vi.  45-52         288 
 
 Vli.  1-23         ..      ..    279,280 
 
QUOTED  OR  ALLUDED  TO. 
 
 495 
 
 vii.  1      ....        Page  164 
 
 vii.  15 91 
 
 vii.  24 295,  305 
 
 viii.  1-8 28" 
 
 viii.  15 270 
 
 viii.  22-26 295 
 
 viii.  23 151 
 
 viii.  27  ;  ix 295-298 
 
 viii.  28 83 
 
 viii.  30 297 
 
 viii.  31 470 
 
 viii.  34,  35 298 
 
 ix.  1-9 307-309 
 
 ix.  11-13       310 
 
 ix.  14-29         ••      .-    310-312 
 
 ix.  15 311 
 
 ix.  23 311,312 
 
 ix.  28,29       312 
 
 ix.  33-41 313-315 
 
 ix.  49 342 
 
 ix.  50      342 
 
 X.  1 361 
 
 X.  2-12 361-364 
 
 X.  13-36 364,  seq. 
 
 X.  17,  seq 365 
 
 X.  18      67,101 
 
 X.  22       368 
 
 X.  32-34 380 
 
 X.  35-45 382 
 
 X.  46-52 380 
 
 xi.  1-11  390-393 
 
 xi.  12 393 
 
 xi.  15-19       ..     ..   390-396 
 
 xi.  23     312,395 
 
 xi.  27-33       397 
 
 xii.  1-12 410 
 
 xii.  13-34      ..     ..   397-400 
 
 xii.  14,  15     -^97 
 
 xii.  18 400 
 
 xii.  28-34       ..      ..   183,  399 
 
 xii.  33 gi 
 
 xii.  35-37       ..     20,101,401 
 
 xii.  38-44       404 
 
 Xiii 404-407 
 
 xiii.  11 437 
 
 xiii.  32 406 
 
 Xiv.  1,2 418 
 
 Xiv.  3-9 388 
 
 xiv.  10,  11     ..     ..419,  seq. 
 
 xiv.  12-16      ..      ..    425-427 
 
 xiv.  17-21       429 
 
 xiv.  22-25       ..      ..430,seq. 
 xiv.  27 437 
 
 xiv.  32-43     ..      ..451,  seq. 
 xiv.  43-49     •  •      •  •  <53,  seq. 
 
 xiv.  53,  seq 455,  seq. 
 
 xiv.  58 181 
 
 xiv.  59 181 
 
 XV.   1-15 459-462 
 
 XV.  16-46      ..     ..   464-468 
 
 XV.  21 463 
 
 XV.  23 464 
 
 XV.  29 180 
 
 XV.  30 75 
 
 xvi 468-486 
 
 xvi.  0 161 
 
 LUEK. 
 
 i.  1-4      17 
 
 Page  13-19 
 . .  . .  20 
 . .       . .      68 
 
 19-22 
 
 24-31 
 
 . .    . .    26 
 
 31,32 
 
 ..     ..165 
 
 33-35 
 
 i.  26-38  . 
 i.  32-35  . 
 
 i.  36 
 ii.  1-20  . 
 
 ii.  22-38. 
 
 ii.  33 
 
 ii.  39 
 
 ii.41 
 
 ii.  41-52. 
 
 ii.  44       34 
 
 ill.  1-17 49-54 
 
 iii.  2       50 
 
 iii.  7       52 
 
 iii.  15     54 
 
 iii.  17 55 
 
 iii.  19.  20      191 
 
 iii.  21,22       ..     ..       54-73 
 
 iii.  23-38         21 
 
 iv.  1-13 73-80 
 
 iv.  16-30       . .     . .  199,  seq. 
 
 iv.  17,  seq 84 
 
 iv.  19      88 
 
 iv.  22,  seq 16 
 
 iv.  38-41         198 
 
 v.  1-11 226 
 
 v.  1        163 
 
 V.  5  171 
 
 V.  12-14  2.'i7 
 
 V.  17-26        271 
 
 V.  20       152 
 
 V.  27.32        229 
 
 V.  29     ^ 230 
 
 V.  33       126,  219 
 
 V.  33-39  ••      .-   218,  221 
 
 V.  35       197 
 
 V.  37       88,  220 
 
 Vi.  1-5 277-278 
 
 vi.  1       163,  277 
 
 vi.  4      96 
 
 vi.  5       . .     90,  seq.  98,  274 
 
 vi.  6-11 271 
 
 vi.  9       275 
 
 vi.  13      122,  241 
 
 vi.  17     165 
 
 vi.  20-49        241 
 
 vii.  l-IO        257 
 
 vii.  2,  seq I47 
 
 vii.  3      259 
 
 vii.  6       ..      ..    101,210,259 
 
 vii.  9      101 
 
 vii.  11-17      211 
 
 vii.  18-35      ..      ..   212-216 
 vii.  28     ..      ..       61,  86,  214 
 
 vii.  29,  30      51 
 
 vii.  36-50      227 
 
 viii.  2 161 
 
 viii.  4-15       200 
 
 viii.  9-18       202 
 
 ■t-iii.  10 107 
 
 >'iii.  18 109 
 
 viii.  19 265 
 
 viii.  21 32,  266 
 
 viii.  22-56      ..      ..    204-212 
 
 ^^ii.  26 161 
 
 viii.  26-29      205 
 
 viii.  29 209 
 
 viii.  40 209 
 
 viii.  46-48 209 
 
 viii.  49 210 
 
 Page  280-284 
 
 334 
 
 295 
 
 284 
 
 355 
 
 ix.  1.17 
 ix.  3 
 
 ix.  7 
 ix.  7-9 
 ix.  9 
 
 ix.  10      285 
 
 ix.  10-18       295 
 
 ix.  I8-27       ..     ..    294-293 
 
 ix.  19 82 
 
 ix.  22 469 
 
 ix.  23,  24        298 
 
 ix.  28-36       307 
 
 ix.  33      308 
 
 ix.  36     309 
 
 ix.  37-43         ..       ..   310,  312 
 ix.  46-50         ..       ..   314,  316 
 
 ix.  50     263 
 
 ix.  51,  seq 166,  333 
 
 ix.  51-56        ..       ..    357,  358 
 
 ix.  57-62       339 
 
 Lx.  60 116 
 
 X.  1-24 333-339 
 
 X.  2         333 
 
 X.  3         298 
 
 X.  21       124 
 
 X.  22       101 
 
 X.  25-37  384 
 
 X.  29       401 
 
 X.  29-31  401 
 
 X.  38-42  . .  166,  370,  390 
 
 xi.  1-13  ..      ..     222-227 
 
 xi.  1       219 
 
 xi.  9         223 
 
 xi.  14-26         ..       ..     259-263 
 
 xi.  14       259 
 
 xi.  16 266 
 
 xi.  20-22         144 
 
 xi.  23 261 
 
 xi.  24,  seq 263 
 
 xi.  27,  28  .  101,  104,  202,  266 
 .\i.  29-36         . .       . .    144,  266 
 
 xi.  3U 92 
 
 xi.  33 267,  374 
 
 xi.  34 110 
 
 xi.  34-36       267 
 
 xi.  37-52      ..     ..  267,  seq. 
 
 xi.  39     267 
 
 xi.  41-41        268 
 
 xi.  45-52         269 
 
 xi.  49      269,  404 
 
 xi.  50-52         . .       . .   262,  269 
 
 xii.  3      197.  269 
 
 xii.  5      271 
 
 xii.  10 263 
 
 xii.  11,  12     437 
 
 xii.  12 479 
 
 xii.  13-15       343 
 
 xii.  34 110 
 
 xii.  36-48      350 
 
 .\ii.  49 87 
 
 xii.  49-53       . .       . .     347-348 
 
 xii.  54-59       352 
 
 xii.  58,  59       251 
 
 xiii.  1-5  353 
 
 xiii.  2-4  163 
 
 xiii.  6-9         . .     . .  393,  394 
 
 xiii.  10-17     275 
 
 xiii.  18-21      345 
 
 xiii.  19 87 
 
496 
 
 PASSAGES  OF  SCRIPTURE 
 
 xiii.  21  . .     . .     Page  87, 88 
 
 xiii.  22 333 
 
 xiii.  23-30 351 
 
 xiii.  24,  25 255 
 
 xiii.  28 352 
 
 xiii.  30 385 
 
 xiii.  31-33      ..      ..    333-354 
 
 xiii.  33 35" 
 
 xiii.  34,  35  ..  88,  165,35" 
 xiv.  1-24       ..      ..     275-276 
 
 xiv.  5      275 
 
 xiv.  12-14 277 
 
 xiv.  16-24     409 
 
 xiv.  25-35       ..       ..    333-343 
 
 XV.  1-10 232 
 
 XV.  11-33       232 
 
 XVi.  1-13         ..      ..    300-303 
 
 xvi.  14 299 
 
 xvi.  16 215 
 
 xvi.  iy-31       354 
 
 xvi.  31    ..     ..  144,354,475 
 
 xvii.  5,  6      386 
 
 xvii.  6 312,396 
 
 xvii.  7-10      387 
 
 xvii.  11 333 
 
 xvii.  11-19     ..       ..    357,358 
 
 xvii.  15 358 
 
 xvii.  20-37    ••      ••    348,349 
 
 xvii.  21 84 
 
 xwi.  26-38 349 
 
 xvii.  34-36 349 
 
 xvii.  37 350 
 
 xviil.  1-8       ..      ..    350,351 
 
 xviii.  9-14     233 
 
 xviii.  15-30  ..     ..     361-369 
 
 xviii.  19 101 
 
 x\-iii.  28 . .   396 
 
 xviii.  31-34 381 
 
 xviii.  35-43 380 
 
 Xix.  1-10         382 
 
 Xix.  11 382 
 
 xix.  12 410 
 
 xix. 28-48      ..      ..    390-393 
 
 xix.  39 392 
 
 xix.  41-44 393 
 
 xix.  45-46 177 
 
 XX.  1-8 396 
 
 XX.  2       178 
 
 XX.  3-6 419 
 
 XX. 9-18 410 
 
 XX.  20-26      397 
 
 XX.  27-40     ..     36,398,399 
 
 XX.  39 400 
 
 XX. 41-44   ..  101,401,402 
 
 xxi 407 
 
 XXi.  1-4 404 
 
 xxi.  5,  seq.  ad  fin.  404-407 
 xxii.  3-6  ..  ..  419,  420 
 xxii.  7-13      ..     ..  425,  427 
 
 xxii.  14-23  ..      ..    428-433 
 
 xxii.  16         4;i8 
 
 xxii.  17-20 430 
 
 xxii.  24  ..      ..   314,  383 
 
 xxii.  25,  seq 130 
 
 xxii.  26,  27 4i8 
 
 xxii.  30  122 
 
 xxii.  33,  34 434 
 
 xxii.  35         28:i 
 
 xxii.  35-3  ..      ..     434- 41)6 
 
 xxii.  39-46    ..        Pa^e451 
 xxii.  47-53     ..       ..   453,  454 
 
 xxii.  52  455 
 
 xxii.  54;  xxiii.  25  . .  455-463 
 
 xxii.  61  456 
 
 xxii.  66         455 
 
 xxiii.  3  458 
 
 xxiii.  5         460 
 
 xxiii.  8  295 
 
 x.viii.  19        460 
 
 xxiii.  26-56  ..     ..    461-468 
 
 xxiii.  27-31 463 
 
 xxiii.  37-39 75 
 
 xxiii.  50        183 
 
 xxiii.  54        427 
 
 xxiv 468-486 
 
 JOH.V. 
 
 i.  4  323 
 
 i.7-15 58 
 
 i.  14       16 
 
 i.  19       73 
 
 i.  19-45 167-171 
 
 i.  29       72,169 
 
 i.  30       170 
 
 i.3l       69,70 
 
 i.  32, 34         66 
 
 i.  33,  34  72 
 
 i.  42         171,  296 
 
 i.  42-47  171 
 
 i.  43-46  173 
 
 i.  50        98 
 
 i.  50,  51  ..      ..    147,  174 
 
 i.  52       99 
 
 ii.  1-11 175 
 
 ii.  3.5 17 
 
 ii.  9        177 
 
 ii.  12       32 
 
 ii.  12-25         ..       ..    178-183 
 
 ii.  18      178,  397 
 
 ii.  19      ..    93,145,180,469 
 iii.  1-15  ..      ..     183-183 
 
 iii.2      42 
 
 iii.  6       17 
 
 iii.  13     99,  100 
 
 iii.  15     189 
 
 iii.  16-21       188 
 
 iii.  18 212 
 
 iii.  22 131 
 
 iii.  22-30        ..      ..    189-191 
 
 iii.  23 189 
 
 iii.  24 191 
 
 iii.  30 190 
 
 iii.  31-36       190 
 
 iii.  32 58 
 
 iv.  1-42 93,  191 
 
 iv.  2        133 
 
 iv.  16 193 
 
 iv.  21     94,  194 
 
 iv.  31     74 
 
 iv.  37,  38       197 
 
 iv.  43-54        199 
 
 iv.  41,  45       ..      ..    1«3,  178 
 
 IV.  lO 198 
 
 iv.   l« 146 
 
 V.  I -47 233-240 
 
 V.  1  233 
 
 V.  4  231 
 
 V.  10       235 
 
 V.  14  . 
 V.  17-19 
 V.  20.29. 
 
 Page 
 
 V.  27      . . 
 V.  30-37.. 
 
 V.  31,  32 
 V.  35 
 
 V.  37-47 
 
 Vi.  1-15 
 
 284 
 
 289 
 
 Vi.  5        ... 
 vi.  15      ..      . 
 
 Vi.  16-21 
 vi.  17 
 vi.  22-71 
 vi.  25     ..     , 
 vi.  26     . .     . 
 vi.  30     . .     . 
 vi.  32-42 
 vi.  34      ..      . 
 vi.  36-44 
 vi.  42,  seq.  . 
 vi.  43-47 
 vi.  44     . .     . 
 vi.  44,  45 
 vi.  48-51 
 vi.  53     . .      . 
 vi.  53-58 
 
 vi.  60 107 
 
 vi.  61     
 
 vi.  63      ..      ..  104,  118, 
 
 vi.  64 123, 
 
 vi.  66 148, 
 
 vi.  69 148, 
 
 vi.  70     
 
 vii.  1-52;    viii.   12}   x. 
 21        320- 
 
 152 
 235 
 236 
 
 99 
 238 
 238 
 ,  52 
 239 
 288 
 234 
 285 
 286 
 288 
 286 
 ■294 
 
 42 
 145 
 290 
 290 
 
 99. 
 
 32, 
 
 5-7 
 
 10  ..  .. 
 
 12  ..  .. 
 
 15  ..  .. 
 
 16-19  .. 
 
 17  ..  .. 
 
 2fi,  27,  -30 
 
 35,38  .. 
 
 40  . .  . . 
 
 40-53  .. 
 
 42  ..  .. 
 
 Viu.  1-11 
 ii.  13,  14 
 
 ii.  15  .. 
 ii.  19-23 
 ii.  25  . . 
 28  .. 
 It.  30-38 
 ii.  33  .. 
 
 322 
 323, 
 
 i.  43 
 i.  44 
 i.  57 
 
 2,3 
 
 5 
 
 6 
 
 22 
 
 110, 
 
 74 
 146 
 
 16 
 
 291 
 
 110 
 107 
 291 
 292 
 292 
 ,293 
 203 
 
 419 
 
 293 
 294 
 
 4ih 
 
 332 
 2:« 
 234 
 319 
 J7 
 265 
 319 
 
 3:13 
 
 321) 
 321 
 3-21 
 322 
 
 83 
 326 
 402 
 344 
 323 
 344 
 323 
 
 83 
 323 
 324 
 110 
 .327 
 110 
 157 
 
 326 
 
 153 
 374 
 151 
 326 
 
QUOTED  OR  ALLUDED  TO. 
 
 497 
 
 ix.  35-37        •  ■        Pf^ife  329 
 X.  1,  seq.      ..  11",  256,  329 
 
 X.  16       283 
 
 X.  17,  18        469 
 
 X.  20       265 
 
 X.  22       . 
 X.  22-39 
 
 333 
 359 
 
 X.  24       83 
 
 X.  36       360 
 
 X.  40       361 
 
 xi 359,  379 
 
 xi.  54-56       379 
 
 xi.  56,  57      39S 
 
 xii.  1-8 388,  3«9 
 
 xii.  1       390 
 
 xU.  5       420 
 
 .xii.  6       389,  420 
 
 .xii.  9-18        ..     ..    390-393 
 
 xii.  14 391 
 
 xii.  19 396 
 
 xii.  20-36       ..      ..     414-418 
 
 xii.  25,  26 298 
 
 xii.  27 449 
 
 xii.  27-29      416 
 
 xii.  31 337 
 
 xii.  32 341 
 
 .xii.  34 98 
 
 xiii.  1-32        ..      ..    425-430 
 
 xiii.  2 419 
 
 xiii.  2-16      428 
 
 xiii.  11-21,  seq 429 
 
 xiii.  19 429 
 
 -xiii.  21 429,  449 
 
 xiii.  26 419 
 
 xiii.  27 423,  449 
 
 xiii.  31-36 430 
 
 xiii.  33-35 433 
 
 xiii.  36-38 434 
 
 xiv.-xvii 436-448 
 
 xiv.  9,  10,  11       ..     ..   439 
 
 xiv.  12 148 
 
 xiv.  13-26 440 
 
 xiv.  23-26     441 
 
 xiv.  27 441,  479 
 
 xiv.  29-31      . .    •  .  .      . .    442 
 
 XV 442-443 
 
 XV.  1,  seq 112,  442 
 
 XV.  14-16      126 
 
 .W.  16 122 
 
 XV.  18-25       444 
 
 .XV.  24 146 
 
 .27 
 
 xvi.  7-33       414 
 
 xvi.  10 447 
 
 xvi.  14.17 
 
 xvi.  24 446 
 
 xvi.  25  ..        Page  105,  109 
 
 xvi.  29,  30 446  I 
 
 xvi.  32 437  ! 
 
 xvii 446 
 
 xvji.  2 338  1 
 
 xvii.  20-24 447 
 
 xviii.  1-11      ..      ..    453-454   I 
 
 xviii.  9 182  i 
 
 xviii.  11,  12 454 
 
 xviii.  13 455  I 
 
 xviii.  14 455   1 
 
 xviii.  19-23 455 
 
 xviii.  24,  25 456 
 
 xviii.  28 427  ' 
 
 xviii.  33 458 
 
 X\Tii.  33-38 102 
 
 xviii.  36.  37 458 
 
 xix.  1-10       462 
 
 xix.  10-12     463 
 
 xix. 17-42     ..     ..   463-468 
 
 xLx.31 425 
 
 xix.  31-37       473 
 
 xix.  34,  30,  37       . .      . .    475 
 
 XX.  1,  seq 476 
 
 XX.  8,  9 469 
 
 .XX.  17,  18, 19       ..     ..   469 
 
 XX.  23 297 
 
 XX.  27 148 
 
 XX.  30 476 
 
 XX.  xxi 468-483 
 
 Acts. 
 
 i.  4 479 
 
 i.  5 133 
 
 i.  15         334 
 
 i.  18         422,  424 
 
 i.  21,  seq 122 
 
 ii.  38       131 
 
 vi.  14      93,182 
 
 vii.  56 98 
 
 viii.  14 197 
 
 X.  37      60 
 
 .xiii.  25 54,  60 
 
 xvi.  16,  seq 206 
 
 x^•ii.28 15 
 
 x\'iii.  25,  26 60 
 
 xix.  1-5 60 
 
 .xix.  13 115 
 
 XX.  35 96,  253 
 
 Romans. 
 
 i.3 19 
 
 i.4 17 
 
 ii.l 345 
 
 ii.  12,  seq 413 
 
 iii.  31     . .     . .       Page  95 
 
 vi.  9,  10         484 
 
 viii.  3,  4        95 
 
 ix.  5       17 
 
 xiii.  6 318 
 
 xiv.  22,  23 97 
 
 xvi.  19 293 
 
 1  Corinthians. 
 
 i.  22   103 
 
 ii.  14   108 
 
 iv.  8-13 253 
 
 V.  7,8 427 
 
 vi.  2   89,  369 
 
 vi.  7   253 
 
 vii.  10 253 
 
 viii 97 
 
 ix.  1   123 
 
 xi.  23   427,  430 
 
 xiii.  1-3   340 
 
 xiv.  20 299 
 
 XV 475,  seq. 
 
 XV.  6   335,  472 
 
 XV.  7,  9 123 
 
 XV.  55 296 
 
 2  Corinthians. 
 
 ii.  15,  16       297 
 
 V.  17      186 
 
 xiii.  4 484 
 
 Galatians. 
 
 iii.  19 363 
 
 iv.  4       ..     ..        17,25,02 
 
 vi.  15' 186 
 
 1    TnESSALONIANS. 
 
 V.  1          350 
 
 V.  21       204 
 
 Hebrews. 
 
 iii.  2,  6 180 
 
 V.  7        450 
 
 vii.  14 482 
 
 xii.  2     469 
 
 1  John. 
 
 ii.  29      447 
 
 iii.  7-10 447 
 
 James. 
 
 i.  0,  10 242 
 
 'J  K 
 
PASSAGES  FROM  ANCIENT  WRITERS 
 
 QUOTED  OE  ALLUDED  TO. 
 
 Acta  Sancturum. 
 Juu.  iii.  571, 1).  709       ■•     ••        Page  473 
 
 Julius  Africanus. 
 Fragnii.  (vid.  G.  Syncell.  ed.  Niebuhr, 
 i.  610) 467 
 
 Ammianus  Marcell. 
 Hist.  xiv.  9      473 
 
 Antoninus. 
 Monolog.  xi.  1        186 
 
 Athenaus. 
 Deipnosophist.  ii.  17,  18      176 
 
 Cod,  Cuntabrig. 
 Fragm.  (Luk.  vi.  4)      96 
 
 Cassiudorus. 
 Lib.  iii.  ep.  52 22 
 
 Chugigah. 
 (Tract.  Talmud)  ii 164 
 
 Chronic.  Pasch.  Alex. 
 (Ed.  Niebulir)  i.  13       427 
 
 Chn/sostomus. 
 lloin.  ill  iviatt.  xx.x.  4 222 
 
 Clemens  Alexandr. 
 
 Strom,  iii.  p.  449 367 
 
 Strom,  iv.  1 1 230 
 
 Homit.  Clement. 
 
 Horn.  ii.  23      219 
 
 II-)m.  xi.  26     186 
 
 Ei/ayy.  kqt'  HSp. 
 
 (Vid.  Fabricius.) 
 
 Fragnm.  (Ignat.  ep.  ad  Ephcs.  5  19}  •  •  27 
 
 Fragm 50 
 
 J'ragm 68,  seq. 
 
 I'ragm "I 
 
 Fragm 344 
 
 Fragm 363 
 
 Fragm.  (Hieron.  vii.  1,  336)         Page  46s 
 
 Fragm.  (Hieron.  de  Vir.  111.  ii.)        . .  480 
 
 Eusebius. 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  i.  12      334 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  i.  13      344 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  iii.  39 344 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  iv.  22 219 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  V.  20 437 
 
 Hist.  Eccl.  V.  24 427 
 
 Chronic.  Olymp.  202,  4       467 
 
 Onomast.  Fragm.  (Hier.  iii.  l63)  '  . .  I89 
 
 Onomast.  Fragm.  (Hier.  iii.  1,  181)..  335 
 
 Evang.  Nazar. 
 
 Fragm.  (Hier.  adv.  Pelag.  iii.)  . .     . .  69 
 
 Fragm.  (Hier.  iv.  1,  156)     "1 
 
 Evang.  Nicod. 
 
 Cap.  ii.  (Thilo.  1.  520) 462 
 
 Fabricius. 
 Cod.  Apocryph.  Nov.  Testament,   (i. 
 
 330;   iii.  524)         304 
 
 Gemai-a. 
 
 (Talmud, 468 
 
 Hieront/mus. 
 
 iv.  1 ,  882 472 
 
 Hippolylus. 
 
 De  Pasch.  i.  13       427 
 
 Irenosus. 
 
 Cout.  Ha;r.  ii.  22 233 
 
 Jusephus. 
 
 C.  Apion,  i.  8 37 
 
 C.  Apion,  i.  31        257 
 
 Archccol.  iii.  1 1 ,  §  3      257 
 
 Archaol.  viii.  2,  4 141 
 
 Archseol.  viii.  2,  5 160,  208 
 
 Archaiol.  X.  2,  1     141 
 
 Arclueol.  xiii.  x.  6 37 
 
 Archjcol.  xiv.  XV.  12 274 
 
 Arclueol.  xv.  viii.  4       30 
 
 Arcliceol.  xvii.  i.  2 252 
 
 Archaeol.  xvii.  6,  5 30 
 
PASSAGES  FROM  ANCIENT  WRITERS. 
 
 499 
 
 Archseol.  xvii.  13,  2      . .     . .         Page  32 
 
 Archseol.  xviii.  1,  4       52 
 
 Archseol.  xviii.  1,  5       40 
 
 Archceol.  xviii.  2,  1       285 
 
 Archseol.  xviii.  V.  2      49,191 
 
 Archseol.  xix.  1      47 
 
 ArchKOl.  XX.  9.  1 457 
 
 De  BeU.  Jud.  ii.  8,  6 40 
 
 De  BeU.  Jud.  vi.  9,  3 390 
 
 De  BeU.  Jud.  vii.  6,  3 157 
 
 De  Vita,  2 49 
 
 De  Vita,  75      472 
 
 Justin  Martyr. 
 
 Dial.  c.  Tryph.  f.  304,  a 23 
 
 Dial.  c.  Trj'ph.  f.  316 42 
 
 Dial.  c.  Trvph.  f .  327 20 
 
 Dial.  c.  Tryph.  f.  335 474 
 
 Dial.  C.  Tiyph.  f.  363 252 
 
 Jilacrobius. 
 
 Satumal.  ii.  4 30 
 
 Origenes. 
 
 C.  Celsum,  i.  32      14 
 
 C.  Celsum,  ii.  12 lai 
 
 C.  Celsum,  vi.  36 42 
 
 Tom.  vi.  ill  Joann.  24 206 
 
 Tom.  ix.  in  Joaim 179 
 
 Tom.  xiii.  in  Joann.  22 195 
 
 Matt.  xiii.  6 154 
 
 Papias. 
 
 Fragm.  (Eus.  iii.  39) I16 
 
 Fragm.  (Cram.  Caten.  p.  12)     . .     . .  423 
 
 Tl'iTQOQ. 
 
 K npvyy..  (Int.  Oper.  Cypr.  de  rebapt. 
 
 fin.)       Co 
 
 Philo. 
 
 De  Migrat.  Abraami 91 
 
 Legat.  ad  Cajum.  23,  31       165 
 
 De  Special.  1  Leg Page  253 
 
 De  Execrat.  9 260 
 
 De  Vit.  Mos.  iii.  5 467 
 
 Pirke  Aboth. 
 (Talmud\  i.  3 38 
 
 Plinius. 
 Hist.  Nat.  xxviii.  7       151 
 
 Plutarchtis. 
 De  Sera  Num.  Vind.  ix 341 
 
 Polybius. 
 i.  80,  13     473 
 
 Ruinart. 
 Acta  Martyr.  220 . .   464 
 
 Seneca. 
 Ad  Lucil.  vi 185 
 
 Simplicius. 
 Comm.  on  Epict 34a 
 
 Sophucles. 
 CEd.  Tyr.  868 1 
 
 Suetonius. 
 Vespas.  4 28 
 
 Tacitus. 
 
 Aim.  1.  1 1 22 
 
 Hist.  V.  13 2S 
 
 Test  am.  xli.  Patr. 
 Test.  Simeon,  7      68. 
 
 Tertullianus 
 
 De  Jejun.  xii 464 
 
 Adv.  Marc.  iii.  19 464 
 
 PKINTED  UV  cox  (bUOTDEKS)  AND  HV.MAK,  GREAT  QUEEN  STKkKT. 
 
DATE  DUE 
 
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