The attitude towards miracle assumed in the anti‐Strauss literature shows

how far the anti‐rationalistic reaction had carried professedly scientific

theology in the direction of supernaturalism. Some significant symptoms

had begun to show themselves even in Hase and Schleiermacher of a tendency

towards the overcoming of rationalism by a kind of intellectual gymnastic

which ran some risk of falling into insincerity. The essential character

of this new kind of historical theology first came to light when Strauss

put it to the question, and forced it to substitute a plain yes or no for

the ambiguous phrases with which this school had only too quickly

accustomed itself to evade the difficulties of the problem of miracle. The

mottoes with which this new school of theology adorned the works which it

sent forth against the untimely troubler of their peace manifest its

complete perplexity, and display the coquettish resignation with which the

sacred learning of the time essayed to cover its nakedness, after it had

succumbed to the temptation of the serpent insincerity. Adolf Harless of

Erlangen chose the melancholy saying of Pascal: “Tout tourne bien pour les

élus, jusqu’aux obscurités de l’écriture, car ils les honorent à cause des

clartés divines qu’ils y voient; et tout tourne en mal aux reprouvés,

jusqu’aux clartés, car ils les blasphèment à cause des obscurités qu’ils

n’entendent pas.”(45)

Herr Wilhelm Hoffmann,(46) deacon at Winnenden, selected Bacon’s aphorism:

“Animus ad amplitudinem mysteriorum pro modulo suo dilatetur, non mysteria

ad angustias animi constringantur.” (Let the mind, so far as possible, be

expanded to the greatness of the mysteries, not the mysteries contracted

to the compass of the mind.)

Professor Ernst Osiander,(47) of the seminary at Maulbronn, appeals to

Cicero: “O magna vis veritatis, quae contra hominum ingenia, calliditatem,

sollertiam facillime se per ipsam defendit.” (O mighty power of truth,

which against all the ingenious devices, the craft and subtlety, of men,

easily defends itself by its own strength!)

Franz Baader, of Munich,(48) ornaments his work with the reflection: “Il

faut que les hommes soient bien loin de toi, ô Vérité! puisque tu supporte

(_sic!_) leur ignorance, leurs erreurs, et leurs crimes.” (Men must indeed

be far from thee, O Truth, since thou art able to bear with their

ignorance, their errors, and their crimes!)

Tholuck(49) girds himself with the Catholic maxim of Vincent of Lerins:

“Teneamus quod semper, quod ubique, quod ab omnibus creditum est.” (Let us

hold that which has been believed always, everywhere, by all.)

The fear of Strauss had, indeed, a tendency to inspire Protestant

theologians with catholicising ideas. One of the most competent reviewers

of his book, Dr. Ullmann in the _Studien und Kritiken_, had expressed the

wish that it had been written in Latin to prevent its doing harm among the

people.(50) An anonymous dialogue of the period shows us the schoolmaster

coming in distress to the clergyman. He has allowed himself to be

persuaded into reading the book by his acquaintance the Major, and he is

now anxious to get rid of the doubts which it has aroused in him. When his

cure has been safely accomplished, the reverend gentleman dismisses him

with the following exhortation: “Now I hope that after the experience

which you have had you will for the future refrain from reading books of

this kind, which are not written for you, and of which there is no

necessity for you to take any notice; and for the refutation of which,

should that be needful, you have no equipment. You may be quite sure that

anything useful or profitable for you which such books may contain will

reach you in due course through the proper channel and in the right way,

and, that being so, you are under no necessity to jeopardise any part of

your peace of mind.”

Tholuck’s work professedly aims only at presenting a “historical argument

for the credibility of the miracle stories of the Gospels.” “Even if we

admit,” he says in one place, “the scientific position that no act can

have proceeded from Christ which transcends the laws of nature, there is

still room for the mediating view of Christ’s miracle‐working activity.

This leads us to think of mysterious powers of nature as operating in the

history of Christ—powers such as we have some partial knowledge of, as,

for example, those magnetic powers which have survived down to our own

time, like ghosts lingering on after the coming of day.” From the

standpoint of this spurious rationalism he proceeds to take Strauss to

task for rejecting the miracles. “Had this latest critic been able to

approach the Gospel miracles without prejudice, in the Spirit of

Augustine’s declaration, ‘dandum est deo, eum aliquid facere posse quod

nos investigare non possumus,’ he would certainly—since he is a man who in

addition to the acumen of the scholar possesses sound common sense—have

come to a different conclusion in regard to these difficulties. As it is,

however, he has approached the Gospels with the conviction that miracles

are impossible; and on that assumption, it was certain before the argument

began that the Evangelists were either deceivers or deceived.”

Neander, in his Life of Jesus,(51) handles the question with more delicacy

of touch, rather in the style of Schleiermacher. “Christ’s miracles,” he

explains, “are to be understood as an influencing of nature, human or

material.” He does not, however, give so much prominence as Schleiermacher

had done to the difficulty involved in the supposition of an influence

exercised upon material nature. He repeats Schleiermacher’s assertions,

but without the imposing dialectic which in Schleiermacher’s hands almost

commands assent. In regard to the miracle at Cana he remarks: “We cannot

indeed form any clear conception of an effect brought about by the

introduction of a higher creative principle into the natural order, since

we have no experience on which to base such a conception, but we are by no

means compelled to take this extreme view as to what happened; we may

quite well suppose that Christ by an immediate influence upon the water

communicated to it a higher potency which enabled it to produce the

effects of strong wine.” In the case of all the miracles he makes a point

of seeking not only the explanation, but the higher symbolical

significance. The miracle of the fig‐tree—which is _sui generis_—has only

this symbolical significance, seeing that it is not beneficent and

creative but destructive. “It can only be thought of as a vivid

illustration of a prediction of the Divine judgment, after the manner of

the symbolic actions of the Old Testament prophets.”

With reference to the ascension and the resurrection he writes: “Even

though we can form no clear idea of the exact way in which the exaltation

of Christ from the earth took place—and indeed there is much that is

obscure in regard to the earthly life of Christ after His

resurrection—yet, in its place in the organic unity of the Christian

faith, it is as certain as the resurrection, which apart from it cannot be

recognised in its true significance.”

That extract is typical of Neander’s Life of Jesus, which in its time was

hailed as a great achievement, calculated to provide a learned refutation

of Strauss’s criticism, and of which a seventh edition appeared as late as

1872. The real piety of heart with which it is imbued cannot conceal the

fact that it is a patchwork of unsatisfactory compromises. It is the child

of despair, and has perplexity for godfather. One cannot read it without

pain.

Neander, however, may fairly claim to be judged, not by this work, but by

his personal attitude in the Strauss controversy. And here he appears as a

magnanimous and dignified representative of theological science.

Immediately after the appearance of Strauss’s book, which, it was at once

seen, would cause much offence, the Prussian Government asked Neander to

report upon it, with a view to prohibiting the circulation, should there

appear to be grounds for doing so. He presented his report on the 15th of

November 1835, and, an inaccurate account of it having appeared in the

_Allgemeine Zeitung_, subsequently published it.(52) In it he censures the

work as being written from a too purely rationalistic point of view, but

strongly urges the Government not to suppress it by an edict. He describes

it as “a book which, it must be admitted, constitutes a danger to the

sacred interests of the Church, but which follows the method of

endeavouring to produce a reasoned conviction by means of argument. Hence

any other method of dealing with it than by meeting argument with argument

will appear in the unfavourable light of an arbitrary interference with

the freedom of science.”

In holding that scientific theology will be able by its own strength to

overthrow whatever in Strauss’s Life of Jesus deserves to be overthrown,

Neander is at one with the anonymous writer of “Aphorisms in Defence of

Dr. Strauss and his Work,”(53) who consoles himself with Goethe’s saying—

Das Tüchtige, auch wenn es falsch ist,

Wirkt Tag für Tag, von Haus zu Haus;

Das Tüchtige, wenn’s wahrhaftig ist,

Wirkt über alle Zeiten hinaus.(54)

(Strive hard, and though your aim be wrong,

Your work shall live its little day;

Strive hard, and for the truth be strong,

Your work shall live and grow for aye.)

“Dr. Strauss,” says this anonymous writer, “does not represent the

author’s views, and he on his part cannot undertake to defend Dr.

Strauss’s conclusions. But it is clear to him that Dr. Strauss’s work

considered as a scientific production is more scientific than the works

opposed to it from the side of religion are religious. Otherwise why are

they so passionate, so apprehensive, so unjust?”

This confidence in pure critical science was not shared by Herr Privat‐

Docent Daniel Schenkel of Basle, afterwards Professor at Heidelberg. In a

dreary work dedicated to his Göttingen teacher Lücke, on “Historical

Science and the Church,”(55) he looks for future salvation towards that

middle region where faith and science interpenetrate, and hails the new

supernaturalism which approximates to a scientific treatment of these

subjects “as a hopeful phenomenon.” He rejoices in the violent opposition

at Zurich which led to the cancelling of Strauss’s appointment, regarding

it as likely to exercise an elevating influence. A similarly lofty

position is taken up by the anonymous author of “Dr. Strauss and the

Zurich Church,”(56) to which De Wette contributed a preface. Though

professing great esteem for Strauss, and admitting that from the purely

historical point of view he is in the right, the author feels bound to

congratulate the Zurichers on having refused to admit him to the office of

teacher.

The pure rationalists found it much more difficult than did the mediating

theologians, whether of the older or younger school, to adjust their

attitude to the new solution of the miracle question. Strauss himself had

made it difficult for them by remorselessly exposing the absurd and

ridiculous aspects of their method, and by refusing to recognise them as

allies in the battle for truth, as they really were. Paulus would have

been justified in bearing him a grudge. But the inner greatness of that

man of hard exterior comes out in the fact that he put his personal

feelings in the background, and when Strauss became the central figure in

the battle for the purity and freedom of historical science he ignored his

attacks on rationalism and came to his defence. In a very remarkable

letter to the Free Canton of Zurich, on “Freedom in Theological Teaching

and in the Choice of Teachers for Colleges,”(57) he urges the council and

the people to appoint Strauss because of the principle at stake, and in

order to avoid giving any encouragement to the retrograde movement in

historical science. It is as though he felt that the end of rationalism

had come, but that, in the person of the enemy who had defeated it, the

pure love of truth, which was the only thing that really mattered, would

triumph over all the forces of reaction.

It would not, however, be true to say that Strauss had beaten rationalism

from the field. In Ammon’s famous Life of Jesus,(58) in which the author

takes up a very respectful attitude towards Strauss, there is a vigorous

survival of a peculiar kind of rationalism inspired by Kant. For Ammon, a

miraculous event can only exist when its natural causes have been

discovered. “The sacred history is subject to the same laws as all other

narratives of antiquity.” Lücke, in dealing with the raising of Lazarus,

had thrown out the question whether Biblical miracles could be thought of

historically at all, and in so doing supposed that he was putting their

absolute character on a firmer basis. “We,” says Ammon, “give the opposite

answer from that which is expected; only historically conceivable miracles

can be admitted.” He cannot away with the constant confusion of faith and

knowledge found in so many writers “who swim in an ocean of ideas in which

the real and the illusory are as inseparable as salt and sea‐water in the

actual ocean.” In every natural process, he explains, we have to suppose,

according to Kant, an interpenetration of natural and supernatural. For

that very reason the purely supernatural does not exist for our

experience. “It is no doubt certain,” so he lays it down on the lines of

Kant’s _Kritik der reinen Vernunft_, “that every act of causation which

goes forth from God must be immediate, universal, and eternal, because it

is thought as an effect of His will, which is exalted above space and time

and interpenetrates both of them, but without abolishing them, leaving

them undisturbed in their continuity and succession. For us men,

therefore, all action of God is mediate, because we are completely

surrounded by time and space, as the fish is by the sea or the bird by the

air, and apart from these relations we should be incapable of

apperception, and therefore of any real experience. As free beings we can,

indeed, think of miracle as immediately Divine, but we cannot perceive it

as such, because that would be impossible without seeing God, which for

wise reasons is forbidden to us.” “In accordance with these principles, we

shall hold it to be our duty in what follows to call attention to the

natural side even of the miracles of Jesus, since apart from this no fact

can become an object of belief.”

It is only in this intelligible sense that the cures of Jesus are to be

thought of as “miracles.” The magnetic force, with which the mediating

theology makes play, is to be rejected. “The cure of psychical diseases by

the power of the word and of faith is the only kind of cure in which the

student of natural science can find any basis for a conjecture regarding

the way in which the cures of Jesus were effected.”

In the case of the other miracles Ammon assumes a kind of Occasionalism,

in the sense that it may have pleased the Divine Providence “to fulfil in

fact the confidently spoken promises of Jesus, and in that way to confirm

His personal authority, which was necessary to the establishment of His

doctrine of the Divine salvation.”

In most cases, however, he is content to repeat the rationalistic

explanation, and portrays a Jesus who makes use of medicines, allows the

demoniac himself to rush upon the herd of swine, helps a leper, whom he

sees to be suffering only from one of the milder forms of the disease, to

secure the public recognition of his being legally clean, and who exerts

himself to prevent by word and act the premature burial of persons in a

state of trance. The story of the feeding of the multitude is based on

some occasion when there was “a bountiful display of hospitality, a

generous sharing of provisions, inspired by Jesus’ prayer of thanksgiving

and the example which He set when the disciples were inclined selfishly to

hold back their own supply.” The story of the miracle at Cana rests on a

mere misunderstanding, those who report it not having known that the wine

which Jesus caused to be secretly brought forth was the wedding‐gift which

he was presenting in the name of the family. As a disciple of Kant,

however, Ammon feels obliged to refute the imputation that Jesus could

have done anything to promote excess, and calculates that the present of

wine which Jesus had intended to give the bridal pair may be estimated as

equivalent to not more than eighteen bottles.(59) He explains the walking

on the sea by claiming for Jesus an acquaintance with “the art of treading

water.”

Only in regard to the explanation of the resurrection does Ammon break

away from rationalism. He decides that the reality of the death of Jesus

is historically proved. But he does not venture to suppose a real

reawakening to life, and remains at the standpoint of Herder.

But the way in which, in spite of the deeper view of the conception of

miracle which he owes to Kant, he constantly falls back upon the most

pedestrian naturalistic explanations, and his failure to rid himself of

the prejudice that an actual, even if not a miraculous fact must underlie

all the recorded miracles, is in itself sufficient to prove that we have

here to do with a mere revival of rationalism: that is, with an untenable

theory which Strauss’s refutation of Paulus had already relegated to the

past.

It was an easier task for pure supernaturalism than for pure rationalism

to come to terms with Strauss. For the former Strauss was only the enemy

of the mediating theology—there was nothing to fear from him and much to

gain. Accordingly Hengstenberg’s _Evangelische Kirchenzeitung_ hailed

Strauss’s book as “one of the most gratifying phenomena in the domain of

recent theological literature,” and praises the author for having carried

out with logical consistency the application of the mythical theory which

had formerly been restricted to the Old Testament and certain parts only

of the Gospel tradition. “All that Strauss has done is to bring the spirit

of the age to a clear consciousness of itself and of the necessary

consequences which flow from its essential character. He has taught it how

to get rid of foreign elements which were still present in it, and which

marked an imperfect stage of its development.”

He has been the most influential factor in the necessary process of

separation. There is no one with whom Hengstenberg feels himself more in

agreement than with the Tübingen scholar. Had he not shown with the

greatest precision how the results of the Hegelian philosophy, one may

say, of philosophy in general, reacted upon Christian faith? “The relation

of speculation to faith has now come clearly to light.”

“Two nations,” writes Hengstenberg in 1836, “are struggling in the womb of

our time, and two only. They will be ever more definitely opposed to one

another. Unbelief will more and more cast off the elements of faith to

which it still clings, and faith will cast off its elements of unbelief.

That will be an inestimable advantage. Had the Time‐spirit continued to

make concessions, concessions would constantly have been made to it in

return.” Therefore the man who “calmly and deliberately laid hands upon

the Lord’s anointed, undeterred by the vision of the millions who have

bowed the knee, and still bow the knee, before His appearing,” has in his

own way done a service.

Strauss on his part escaped with relief from the musty atmosphere of the

study—beloved by theology in carpet‐slippers—to the bracing air of

Hengstenberg’s _Kirchenzeitung_. In his “Replies” he devotes to it some

fifty‐four pages. “I must admit,” he says, “that it is a satisfaction to

me to have to do with the _Evangelische Kirchenzeitung_. In dealing with

it one knows where one is and what one has to expect. If Herr Hengstenberg

condemns, he knows why he condemns, and even one against whom he launches

his anathema must admit that the attitude becomes him. Any one who, like

the editor of the _Evangelische Kirchenzeitung_, has taken upon him the

yoke of confessional doctrine with all its implications, has paid a price

which entitles him to the privilege of condemning those who differ from

his opinions.”(60)

Hengstenberg’s only complaint against Strauss is that he does not go far

enough. He would have liked to force upon him the rôle of the Wolfenbüttel

Fragmentist, and considers that if Strauss did not, like the latter, go so

far as to suppose the apostles guilty of deliberate deceit, that is not so

much from any regard for the historical kernel of Christianity as in order

to mask his attack.

Even in Catholic theology Strauss’s work caused a great sensation.

Catholic theology in general did not at that time take up an attitude of

absolute isolation from Protestant scholarship; it had adopted from the

latter numerous rationalistic ideas, and had been especially influenced by

Schleiermacher. Thus, Catholic scholars were almost prepared to regard

Strauss as a common enemy, against whom it was possible to make common

cause with Protestants. In 1837 Joseph Mack, one of the Professors of the

Catholic faculty at Tübingen, published his “Report on Herr Dr. Strauss’s

Historical Study of the Life of Jesus.”(61) In 1839 appeared “Dr.

Strauss’s Life of Jesus, considered from the Catholic point of view,”(62)

by Dr. Maurus Hagel, Professor of Theology at the Lyceum at Dillingen; in

1840 that lover of hypotheses and doughty fighter, Johann Leonhard

Hug,(63) presented his report upon the work.(64)

Even French Catholicism gave some attention to Strauss’s work. This marks

an epoch—the introduction of the knowledge of German critical theology

into the intellectual world of the Latin nations. In the _Revue des deux

mondes_ for December 1838, Edgar Quinet gave a clear and accurate account

of the influence of the Hegelian philosophy upon the religious ideas of

cultured Germany.(65) In an eloquent peroration he lays bare the danger

which was menacing the Church from the nation of Strauss and Hegel. His

countrymen need not think that it could be charmed away by some ingenious

formula; a mighty effort of the Catholic spirit was necessary, if it was

to be successfully opposed. “A new barbarian invasion was rolling up

against sacred Rome. The barbarians were streaming from every quarter of

the horizon, bringing their strange gods with them and preparing to

beleaguer the holy city. As, of yore, Leo went forth to meet Attila, so

now let the Papacy put on its purple and come forth, while yet there is

time, to wave back with an authoritative gesture the devastating hordes

into that moral wilderness which is their native home.”

The quest of the historical Jesus · 第 11 / 48 段