INTRODUCTION
The following discussion is intended to deal, from one particular
point of view, with the problem of the origin of Christianity. That
problem is an important historical problem, and also an important
practical problem. It is an important historical problem not
only because of the large place which Christianity has occupied
in the medieval and modern world, but also because of certain
unique features which even the most unsympathetic and superficial
examination must detect in the beginnings of the Christian movement.
The problem of the origin of Christianity is also an important
practical problem. Rightly or wrongly, Christian experience has
ordinarily been connected with one particular view of the origin
of the Christian movement; where that view has been abandoned, the
experience has ceased.
This dependence of Christianity upon a particular conception of
its origin and of its Founder is now indeed being made the object
of vigorous attack. There are many who maintain that Christianity
is the same no matter what its origin was, and that therefore
the problem of origin should be kept entirely separate from the
present religious interests of the Church. Obviously, however, this
indifference to the question as to what the origin of Christianity
was depends upon a particular conception of what Christianity now
is; it depends upon the conception which makes of Christianity
simply a manner of life. That conception is indeed widespread,
but it is by no means universal; there are still hosts of earnest
Christians who regard Christianity, not simply as a manner of life,
but as a manner of life founded upon a message--upon a message with
regard to the Founder of the Christian movement. For such persons
the question of the origin of Christianity is rather to be called
the question of the truth of Christianity, and that question is to
them the most important practical question of their lives. Even if
these persons are wrong, the refutation of their supposed error
naturally proceeds, and has in recent years almost always proceeded,
primarily by means of that very discussion of the origin of the
Christian movement which is finally to be shorn of its practical
interest. The most important practical question for the modern
Church is still the question how Christianity came into being.
In recent years it has become customary to base discussions of
the origin of Christianity upon the apostle Paul. Jesus Himself,
the author of the Christian movement, wrote nothing--at least
no writings of His have been preserved. The record of His words
and deeds is the work of others, and the date and authorship and
historical value of the documents in which that record is contained
are the subject of persistent debate. With regard to the genuineness
of the principal epistles of Paul, on the other hand, and with
regard to the value of at least part of the outline of his life
which is contained in the Book of Acts, all serious historians
are agreed. The testimony of Paul, therefore, forms a fixed
starting-point in all controversy.
Obviously that testimony has an important bearing upon the question
of the origin of Christianity. Paul was a contemporary of Jesus. He
attached himself to Jesus' disciples only a very few years after
Jesus' death; according to his own words, in one of the universally
accepted epistles, he came into early contact with the leader among
Jesus' associates; throughout his life he was deeply interested (for
one reason or another) in the affairs of the primitive Jerusalem
Church; both before his conversion and after it he must have had
abundant opportunity for acquainting himself with the facts about
Jesus' life and death. His testimony is not, however, limited to
what he says in detail about the words and deeds of the Founder of
the Christian movement. More important still is the testimony of
his experience as a whole. The religion of Paul is a fact which
stands in the full light of history. How is it to be explained? What
were its presuppositions? Upon what sort of Jesus was it founded?
These questions lead into the very heart of the historical problem.
Explain the origin of the religion of Paul, and you have solved the
problem of the origin of Christianity.
That problem may thus be approached through the gateway of the
testimony of Paul. But that is not the only way to approach it.
Another way is offered by the Gospel picture of the person of
Jesus. Quite independent of questions of date and authorship and
literary relationships of the documents, the total picture which
the Gospels present bears unmistakable marks of being the picture
of a real historical person. Internal evidence here reaches the
point of certainty. If the Jesus who in the Gospels is represented
as rebuking the Pharisees and as speaking the parables is not a
real historical person living at a definite point in the world's
history, then there is no way of distinguishing history from
fiction. Even the evidence for the genuineness of the Pauline
Epistles is no stronger than this. But if the Jesus of the Gospels
is a real person, certain puzzling questions arise. The Jesus of the
Gospels is a supernatural person; He is represented as possessing
sovereign power over the forces of nature. What shall be done with
this supernatural element in the picture? It is certainly very
difficult to separate it from the rest. Moreover the Jesus of the
Gospels is represented as advancing some lofty claims. He regarded
Himself as being destined to come with the clouds of heaven and be
the instrument in judging the world. What shall be done with this
element in His consciousness? How does it agree with the indelible
impression of calmness and sanity which has always been made by His
character? These questions again lead into the heart of the problem.
Yet they cannot be ignored. They are presented inevitably by what
every serious historian admits.
The fundamental evidence with regard to the origin of Christianity
is therefore twofold. Two facts need to be explained--the Jesus
of the Gospels and the religion of Paul. The problem of early
Christianity may be approached in either of these two ways. It
should finally be approached in both ways. And if it is approached
in both ways the investigator will discover, to his amazement, that
the two ways lead to the same result. But the present discussion is
more limited in scope. It seeks to deal merely with one of the two
ways of approach to the problem of Christianity. What was the origin
of the religion of Paul?
In discussing the apostle Paul the historian is dealing with a
subject important for its own sake, even aside from the importance
of what it presupposes about Jesus. Unquestionably Paul was a
notable man, whose influence has been felt throughout all subsequent
history. The fact itself cannot be called in question. But since
there is wide difference of opinion about details, it may be well,
in a brief preliminary word, to define a little more closely the
nature and extent of the influence of Paul.
That influence has been exerted in two ways. It was exerted, in the
first place, during the lifetime of Paul; and it has been exerted,
in the second place, upon subsequent generations through the medium
of the Pauline Epistles.
With regard to the second kind of influence, general considerations
would make a high estimate natural. The Pauline Epistles form a
large proportion of the New Testament, which has been regarded as
fundamental and authoritative in all ages of the Church. The use of
the Pauline Epistles as normative for Christian thought and practice
can be traced back to very early times, and has been continuous
ever since. Yet certain considerations have been urged on the other
side as indicating that the influence of Paul has not been so great
as might have been expected. For example, the Christianity of the
Old Catholic Church at the close of the second century displays a
strange lack of understanding for the deeper elements in the Pauline
doctrine of salvation, and something of the same state of affairs
may be detected in the scanty remains of the so-called "Apostolic
Fathers" of the beginning of the century. The divergence from Paul
was not conscious; the writers of the close of the second century
all quote the Pauline Epistles with the utmost reverence. But the
fact of the divergence cannot altogether be denied.
Various explanations of this divergence have been proposed. Baur
explained the un-Pauline character of the Old Catholic Church as
due to a compromise with a legalistic Jewish Christianity; Ritschl
explained it as due to a natural process of degeneration on purely
Gentile Christian ground; Von Harnack explains it as due to the
intrusion, after the time of Paul, of Greek habits of thought.
The devout believer, on the other hand, might simply say that the
Pauline doctrine of grace was too wonderful and too divine to be
understood fully by the human mind and heart.[1]
[1] Compare "Jesus and Paul," in _Biblical and Theological Studies_
by Members of the Faculty of Princeton Theological Seminary, 1912,
pp. 553 f.
Whatever the explanation, however, the fact, even after
exaggerations have been avoided, remains significant. It remains
true that the Church of the second century failed to understand
fully the Pauline doctrine of the way of salvation. The same lack
of understanding has been observable only too frequently throughout
subsequent generations. It was therefore with some plausibility that
Von Harnack advanced his dictum to the effect that Paulinism has
established itself as a ferment, but never as a foundation, in the
history of doctrine.[2]
[2] Harnack, _Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte_, 4te Aufl., i, 1909, p.
155. (English Translation, _History of Dogma_, i, 1895, p. 136.)
In the first place, however, it may be doubted whether the dictum
of Von Harnack is true; for in that line of development of theology
which runs from Augustine through the Reformation to the Reformed
Churches, Paulinism may fairly be regarded as a true foundation. But
in the second place, even if Von Harnack's dictum were true, the
importance of Paul's influence would not be destroyed. A ferment is
sometimes as important as a foundation. As Von Harnack himself says,
"the Pauline reactions mark the critical epochs of theology and of
the Church.... The history of doctrine could be written as a history
of the Pauline reactions in the Church."[3] As a matter of fact
the influence of Paul upon the entire life of the Church is simply
measureless. Who can measure the influence of the eighth chapter of
Romans?
[3] Harnack, _loc. cit._
The influence of Paul was also exerted, however, in his own
lifetime, by his spoken words as well as by his letters. To estimate
the full extent of that influence one would have to write the entire
history of early Christianity. It may be well, however, to consider
briefly at least one outstanding aspect of that influence--an aspect
which must appeal even to the most unsympathetic observer. The
Christian movement began in the midst of a very peculiar people; in
35 A.D. it would have appeared to a superficial observer to be a
Jewish sect. Thirty years later it was plainly a world religion.
True, the number of its adherents was still small. But the really
important steps had been taken. The conquest of the world was now a
mere matter of time. This establishment of Christianity as a world
religion, to almost as great an extent as any great historical
movement can be ascribed to one man, was the work of Paul.
This assertion needs to be defended against various objections, and
at the same time freed from misinterpretations and exaggerations.
In the first place, it might be said, the Gentile mission of Paul
was really only a part of a mighty historical process--the march of
the oriental religions throughout the western world. Christianity
was not the only religion which was filling the void left by the
decay of the native religions of Greece and Rome. The Phrygian
religion of Cybele had been established officially at Rome since 204
B.C., and after leading a somewhat secluded and confined existence
for several centuries, was at the time of Paul beginning to make
its influence felt in the life of the capital. The Greco-Egyptian
religion of Isis was preparing for the triumphal march which it
began in earnest in the second century. The Persian religion of
Mithras was destined to share with Isis the possession of a large
part of the Greco-Roman world. Was not the Christianity of Paul
merely one division of a mighty army which would have conquered even
without his help?
With regard to this objection a number of things may be said. In
the first place, the apostle Paul, as over against the priests of
Isis and of Cybele, has perhaps at least the merit of priority; the
really serious attempt at world-conquest was made by those religions
(and still more clearly by the religion of Mithras) only after the
time of Paul. In the second place, the question may well be asked
whether it is at all justifiable to class the Christianity of Paul
along with those other cults under the head of Hellenized oriental
religion. This question will form the subject of a considerable
part of the discussion which follows, and it will be answered with
an emphatic negative. The Christianity of Paul will be found to
be totally different from the oriental religions. The threat of
conquest made by those religions, therefore, only places in sharper
relief the achievement of Paul, by showing the calamities from
which the world was saved by his energetic mission. If except for
the Pauline mission the world would have become devoted to Isis or
Mithras, then Paul was certainly one of the supreme benefactors of
the human race.
Even apart from any detailed investigation, however, one difference
between the religion of Paul and the oriental religions is perfectly
obvious. The oriental religions were tolerant of other faiths; the
religion of Paul, like the ancient religion of Israel, demanded an
absolutely exclusive devotion. A man could become initiated into the
mysteries of Isis or Mithras without at all giving up his former
beliefs; but if he were to be received into the Church, according
to the preaching of Paul, he must forsake all other Saviours for
the Lord Jesus Christ. The difference places the achievement of
Paul upon an entirely different plane from the successes of the
oriental mystery religions. It was one thing to offer a new faith
and a new cult as simply one additional way of obtaining contact
with the Divine, and it was another thing, and a far more difficult
thing (and in the ancient world outside of Israel an unheard-of
thing), to require a man to renounce all existing religious beliefs
and practices in order to place his whole reliance upon a single
Saviour. Amid the prevailing syncretism of the Greco-Roman world,
the religion of Paul, with the religion of Israel, stands absolutely
alone. The successes of the oriental religions, therefore, only
place in clearer light the uniqueness of the achievement of Paul.
They do indeed indicate the need and longing of the ancient world
for redemption; but that is only part of the preparation for the
coming of the gospel which has always been celebrated by devout
Christians as part of the divine economy, as one indication that
"the fullness of the time" was come. But the wide prevalence of the
need does not at all detract from the achievement of satisfying the
need. Paul's way of satisfying the need, as it is hoped the later
chapters will show, was unique; but what should now be noticed is
that the way of Paul, because of its exclusiveness, was at least far
more difficult than that of any of his rivals or successors. His
achievement was therefore immeasurably greater than theirs.
But if the successes of the oriental religions do not detract from
the achievement of Paul, what shall be said of the successes of
pre-Christian Judaism? It must always be remembered that Judaism,
in the first century, was an active missionary religion. Even
Palestinian Judaism was imbued with the missionary spirit; Jesus
said to the Pharisees that they compassed sea and land to make one
proselyte. The Judaism of the Dispersion was no doubt even more
zealous for winning adherents. The numberless synagogues scattered
throughout the cities of the Greco-Roman world were not attended,
as Jewish synagogues are attended to-day, only by Jews, but were
also filled with hosts of Gentiles, some of whom had accepted
circumcision and become full Jews, but others of whom, forming the
class called in the Book of Acts "God-fearers" or "God-worshipers,"
had accepted the monotheism of the Jews and the lofty morality of
the Old Testament without definitely uniting themselves with the
people of Israel. In addition to this propaganda in the synagogues,
an elaborate literary propaganda, of which important remnants have
been preserved, helped to carry on the missionary work. The question
therefore arises whether the preaching of Paul was anything more
than a continuation, though in any case a noteworthy continuation,
of this pre-Christian Jewish mission.
Here again, as in the case of the longing for redemption which is
attested by the successes of the oriental religions, an important
element in the preparation for the gospel must certainly be
detected. It is hard to exaggerate the service which was rendered
to the Pauline mission by the Jewish synagogue. One of the most
important problems for every missionary is the problem of gaining a
hearing. The problem may be solved in various ways. Sometimes the
missionary may hire a place of meeting and advertise; sometimes
he may talk on the street corners to passers-by. But for Paul
the problem was solved. All that he needed to do was to enter
the synagogue and exercise the privilege of speaking, which was
accorded with remarkable liberality to visiting teachers. In the
synagogue, moreover, Paul found an audience not only of Jews but
also of Gentiles; everywhere the "God-fearers" were to be found.
These Gentile attendants upon the synagogues formed not only an
audience but a picked audience; they were just the class of persons
who were most likely to be won by the gospel preaching. In their
case much of the preliminary work had been accomplished; they were
already acquainted with the doctrine of the one true God; they had
already, through the lofty ethical teaching of the Old Testament,
come to connect religion with morality in a way which is to us
matter-of-course but was very exceptional in the ancient world.
Where, as in the market-place at Athens, Paul had to begin at the
very beginning, without presupposing this previous instruction on
the part of his hearers, his task was rendered far more difficult.
Undoubtedly, in the case of many of his converts he did have to
begin in that way; the First Epistle to the Thessalonians, for
example, presupposes, perhaps, converts who turned directly from
idols to serve the living and true God. But even in such cases the
God-fearers formed a nucleus; their manifold social relationships
provided points of contact with the rest of the Gentile population.
The debt which the Christian Church owes to the Jewish synagogue is
simply measureless.
This acknowledgment, however, does not mean that the Pauline mission
was only a continuation of the pre-Christian missionary activity
of the Jews. On the contrary, the very earnestness of the effort
made by the Jews to convert their Gentile neighbors serves to
demonstrate all the more clearly the hopelessness of their task.
One thing that was fundamental in the religion of the Jews was its
exclusiveness. The people of Israel, according to the Old Testament,
was the chosen people of God; the notion of a covenant between
God and His chosen people was absolutely central in all ages of
the Jewish Church. The Old Testament did indeed clearly provide a
method by which strangers could be received into the covenant; they
could be received whenever, by becoming circumcised and undertaking
the observance of the Mosaic Law, they should relinquish their
own nationality and become part of the nation of Israel. But this
method seemed hopelessly burdensome. Even before the time of Paul
it had become evident that the Gentile world as a whole would never
submit to such terms. The terms were therefore sometimes relaxed.
Covenant privileges were offered by individual Jewish teachers to
individual Gentiles without requiring what was most offensive, like
circumcision; merit was sought by some of the Gentiles by observance
of only certain parts of the Law, such as the requirements about the
Sabbath or the provisions about food. Apparently widespread also
was the attitude of those persons who seem to have accepted what
may be called the spiritual, as distinguished from the ceremonial,
aspects of Judaism. But all such compromises were affected by a
deadly weakness. The strict requirements of the Law were set forth
plainly in the Old Testament. To cast them aside, in the interests
of missionary activity, meant a sacrifice of principle to practice;
it meant a sacrifice of the zeal and the good conscience of the
missionaries and of the true satisfaction of the converts. One of
the chief attractions of Judaism to the world of that day was the
possession of an ancient and authoritative Book; the world was
eagerly searching for authority in religion. Yet if the privileges
of the Old Testament were to be secured, the authority of the Book
had to be set aside. The character of a national religion was
therefore too indelibly stamped upon the religion of Israel; the
Gentile converts could at best only be admitted into an outer circle
around the true household of God. What pre-Christian Judaism had to
offer was therefore obviously insufficient. Perhaps the tide of the
Jewish mission had already begun to ebb before the time of Paul;
perhaps the process of the withdrawal of Judaism into its age-long
seclusion had already begun. Undoubtedly that process was hastened
by the rivalry of Christianity, which offered far more than Judaism
had offered and offered it on far more acceptable terms. But the
process sooner or later would inevitably have made itself felt.
Whether or not Renan was correct in supposing that had it not been
for Christianity the world would have been Mithraic, one thing is
certain--the world apart from Christianity would never have become
Jewish.
But was not the preaching of Paul itself one manifestation of that
liberalizing tendency among the Jews to which allusion has just been
made and of which the powerlessness has just been asserted? Was not
the attitude of Paul in remitting the requirement of circumcision,
while he retained the moral and spiritual part of the Old Testament
Law--especially if, as the Book of Acts asserts, he assented upon
occasion to the imposition of certain of the less burdensome
parts even of the ceremonial Law--very similar to the action of a
teacher like that Ananias who was willing to receive king Izates of
Adiabene without requiring him to be circumcised? These questions
in recent years have occasionally been answered in the affirmative,
especially by Kirsopp Lake.[4] But despite the plausibility of
Lake's representation he has thereby introduced a root error into
his reconstruction of the apostolic age. For whatever the teaching
of Paul was, it certainly was not "liberalism." The background of
Paul is not to be sought in liberal Judaism, but in the strictest
sect of the Pharisees. And Paul's remission of the requirement of
circumcision was similar only in form, at the most, to the action of
the Ananias who has just been mentioned. In motive and in principle
it was diametrically opposite. Gentile freedom according to Paul
was not something permitted; it was something absolutely required.
And it was required just by the strictest interpretation of the
Old Testament Law. If Paul had been a liberal Jew, he would never
have been the apostle to the Gentiles; for he would never have
developed his doctrine of the Cross. Gentile freedom, in other
words, was not, according to Paul, a relaxing of strict requirements
in the interests of practical missionary work; it was a matter of
principle. For the first time the religion of Israel could go forth
(or rather was compelled to go forth) with a really good conscience
to the spiritual conquest of the world.
[4] _The Earlier Epistles of St. Paul_, 1911, pp. 16-28, especially
p. 24. Compare Lake and Jackson, _The Beginnings of Christianity_,