ON THE MORAL PERFECTION OF JESUS.
Let no reader peruse this chapter, who is not willing to enter into
a discussion, as free and unshrinking, concerning the personal
excellencies and conduct of Jesus, as that of Mr. Grote concerning
Socrates. I have hitherto met with most absurd rebuffs for my
scrupulosity. One critic names me as a principal leader in a school
which extols and glorifies the character of Jesus; after which
he proceeds to reproach me with inconsistency, and to insinuate
dishonesty. Another expresses himself as deeply wounded that, in
renouncing the belief that Jesus is more than man, I suggest to
compare him to a clergyman whom I mentioned as eminently holy and
perfect in the picture of a partial biographer; such a comparison
is resented with vivid indignation, as a blurting out of something
"unspeakably painful." Many have murmured that I do _not_ come forward
to extol the excellencies of Jesus, but appear to prefer Paul. More
than one taunt me with an inability to justify my insinuations
that Jesus, after all, was not really perfect; one is "extremely
disappointed" that I have not attacked him; in short, it is manifest
that many would much rather have me say out my whole heart, than
withhold anything. I therefore give fair warning to all, not to
read any farther, or else to blame themselves if I inflict on them
"unspeakable pain," by differing from their judgment of a historical
or unhistorical character. As for those who confound my tenderness
with hypocrisy and conscious weakness, if they trust themselves to
read to the end, I think they will abandon that fancy.
But how am I brought into this topic? It is because, after my mind had
reached the stage narrated in the last chapter, I fell in with a new
doctrine among the Unitarians,--that the evidence of Christianity is
essentially popular and spiritual, consisting in _the Life of Christ_,
who is a perfect man and the absolute moral image of God,--therefore
fitly called "God manifest in the flesh," and, as such, Moral Head of
the human race. Since this view was held in conjunction with those
at which I had arrived myself concerning miracles, prophecy, the
untrustworthiness of Scripture as to details, and the essential
unreasonableness of imposing dogmatic propositions as a creed, I
had to consider why I could not adopt such a modification, or (as it
appeared to me) reconstruction, of Christianity; and I gave reasons
in the first edition of this book, which, avoiding direct treatment of
the character of Jesus, seemed to me adequate on the opposite side.
My argument was reviewed by a friend, who presently published the
review with his name, replying to my remarks on this scheme. I thus
find myself in public and avowed controversy with one who is endowed
with talents, accomplishments, and genius, to which I have no
pretensions. The challenge has certainly come from myself. Trusting to
the goodness of my cause, I have ventured it into an unequal combat;
and from a consciousness of my admired friend's high superiority, I do
feel a little abashed at being brought face to face against him. But
possibly the less said to the public on these personal matters, the
better.
I have to give reasons why I cannot adopt that modified scheme
of Christianity which is defended and adorned by James Martineau;
according to which it is maintained that though the Gospel Narratives
are not to be trusted in detail, there can yet be no reasonable
doubt _what_ Jesus _was_; for this is elicited by a "higher moral
criticism," which (it is remarked) I neglect. In this theory, Jesus is
avowed to be a man born like other men; to be liable to error, and
(at least in some important respects) mistaken. Perhaps no general
proposition is to be accepted _merely_ on the word of Jesus; in
particular, he misinterpreted the Hebrew prophecies. "He was not
_less_ than the Hebrew Messiah, but _more_." No moral charge is
established against him, until it is shown, that in applying the old
prophecies to himself, he was _conscious_ that they did not fit.
His error was one of mere fallibility in matters of intellectual and
literary estimate. On the other hand, Jesus had an infallible moral
perception, which reveals itself to the true-hearted reader, and is
testified by the common consciousness of Christendom. It has pleased
the Creator to give us one sun in the heavens, and one Divine soul in
history, in order to correct the aberrations of our individuality, and
unite all mankind into one family of God. Jesus is to be presumed to
be perfect until he is shown to be imperfect. Faith in Jesus, is not
reception of propositions, but reverence for a person; yet this is
_not_ the condition of salvation or essential to the Divine favour.
Such is the scheme, abridged from the ample discussion of my eloquent
friend. In reasoning against it, my arguments will, to a certain
extent, be those of an orthodox Trinitarian;[1] since we might both
maintain that the belief in the absolute divine morality of Jesus is
not tenable, when the belief in _every other_ divine and superhuman
quality is denied. Should I have any "orthodox" reader, my arguments
may shock his feelings less, if he keeps this in view. In fact, the
same action or word in Jesus may be consistent or inconsistent with
moral perfection, according to the previous assumptions concerning his
person.
I. My friend has attributed to me a "prosaic and embittered view of
human nature," apparently because I have a very intense belief of
Man's essential imperfection. To me, I confess, it is almost a first
principle of thought, that as all sorts of perfection coexist in God,
so is no sort of perfection possible to man. I do not know how for
a moment to imagine an Omniscient Being who is not Almighty, or
an Almighty who is not All-Righteous. So neither do I know how to
conceive of Perfect Holiness anywhere but in the Blessed and only
Potentate.
Man is finite and crippled on all sides; and frailty in one kind
causes frailty in another. Deficient power causes deficient knowledge,
deficient knowledge betrays him into false opinion, and entangles him
into false positions. It may be a defect of my imagination, but I do
not feel that it implies any bitterness, that even in the case of
one who abides in primitive lowliness, to attain even negatively an
absolutely pure goodness seems to me impossible; and much more, to
exhaust all goodness, and become a single Model-Man, unparalleled,
incomparable, a standard for all other moral excellence. Especially
I cannot conceive of any human person rising out of obscurity, and
influencing the history of the world, unless there be in him forces
of great intensity, the harmonizing of which is a vast and painful
problem. Every man has to subdue himself first, before he preaches to
his fellows; and he encounters many a fall and many a wound in winning
his own victory. And as talents are various, so do moral natures vary,
each having its own weak and strong side; and that one man should
grasp into his single self the highest perfection of every moral
kind, is to me at least as incredible as that one should preoccupy
and exhaust all intellectual greatness. I feel the prodigy to be so
peculiar, that I must necessarily wait until it is overwhelmingly
proved, before I admit it. No one can without unreason urge me to
believe, on any but the most irrefutable arguments, that a man, finite
in every other respect, is infinite in moral perfection.
My friend is "at a loss to conceive in what way a superhuman physical
nature could tend in the least degree to render moral perfection more
credible." But I think he will see, that it would entirely obviate the
argument just stated, which, from the known frailty of human nature
in general, deduced the indubitable imperfection of an individual. The
reply is then obvious and decisive: "This individual is _not_ a mere
man; his origin is wholly exceptional; therefore his moral perfection
may be exceptional; your experience of _man's_ weakness goes for
nothing in his case." If I were already convinced that this person was
a great Unique, separated from all other men by an impassable chasm in
regard to his physical origin, I (for one) should be much readier to
believe that he was Unique and Unapproachable in other respects: for
all God's works have an internal harmony. It could not be for nothing
that this exceptional personage was sent into the world. That he was
intended as head of the human race, in one or more senses, would be
a plausible opinion; nor should I feel any incredulous repugnance
against believing his morality to be if not divinely perfect, yet
separated from that of common men so far, that he might be a God to
us, just as every parent is to a young child.
This view seems to my friend a weakness; be it so. I need not press
it. What I do press, is,--whatever _might_ or might _not_ be conceded
concerning one in human form, but of superhuman origin,--at any
rate, one who is conceded to be, out and out, of the same nature as
ourselves, is to be judged of by our experience of that nature, and is
therefore to be _assumed_ to be variously imperfect, however eminent
and admirable in some respects. And no one is to be called an imaginer
of deformity, because he takes for granted that one who is Man has
imperfections which were not known to those who compiled memorials of
him. To impute to a person, without specific evidence, some definite
frailty or fault, barely because he is human, would be a want of good
sense; but not so, to have a firm belief that every human being is
finite in moral as well as in intellectual greatness.
We have a very imperfect history of the apostle James; and I do not
know that I could adduce any fact specifically recorded concerning him
in disproof of his absolute moral perfection, if any of his Jerusalem
disciples had chosen to set up this as a dogma of religion. Yet no
one would blame me, as morose, or indisposed to acknowledge genius and
greatness, if I insisted on believing James to be frail and imperfect,
while admitting that I knew almost nothing about him. And why?--Singly
and surely, because we know him to be _a man_: that suffices. To set
up James or John or Daniel as my Model, and my Lord; to be swallowed
up in him and press him upon others for a Universal Standard, would
be despised as a self-degrading idolatry and resented as an obtrusive
favouritism. Now why does not the same equally apply, if the name
Jesus is substituted for these? Why, in defect of all other knowledge
than the bare fact of his manhood, are we not unhesitatingly to take
for granted that he does _not_ exhaust all perfection, and is at best
only one among many brethren and equals?
II. My friend, I gather, will reply, "because so many thousands
of minds in all Christendom attest the infinite and unapproachable
goodness of Jesus." It therefore follows to consider, what is the
weight of this attestation. Manifestly it depends, first of all, on
the independence of the witnesses: secondly, on the grounds of their
belief. If all those, who confess the moral perfection of Jesus,
confess it as the result of unbiassed examination of his character;
and if of those acquainted with the narrative, none espouse the
opposite side; this would be a striking testimony, not to be despised.
But in fact, few indeed of the "witnesses" add any weight at all to
the argument. No Trinitarian can doubt that Jesus is morally perfect,
without doubting fundamentally every part of his religion. He believes
it, _because_ the entire system demands it, and _because_ various
texts of Scripture avow it: and this very fact makes it morally
impossible for him to enter upon an unbiassed inquiry, whether that
character which is drawn for Jesus in the four gospels, is, or is not,
one of absolute perfection, deserving to be made an exclusive model
for all times and countries. My friend never was a Trinitarian, and
seems not to know how this operates; but I can testify, that when I
believed in the immaculateness of Christ's character, it was not
from an unbiassed criticism, but from the pressure of authority, (the
authority of _texts_,) and from the necessity of the doctrine to the
scheme of Redemption. Not merely strict Trinitarians, but all who
believe in the Atonement, however modified,--all who believe that
Jesus will be the future Judge,--_must_ believe in his absolute
perfection: hence the fact of their belief is no indication whatever
that they believe on the ground which my friend assumes,--viz. an
intelligent and unbiassed study of the character itself, as exhibited
in the four narratives.
I think we may go farther. We have no reason for thinking that _this_
was the sort of evidence which convinced the apostles themselves, and
first teachers of the gospel;--if indeed in the very first years the
doctrine was at all conceived of. It cannot be shown that any one
believed in the moral perfection of Jesus, who had not already adopted
the belief that he was Messiah, and _therefore_ Judge of the human
race. My friend makes the pure immaculateness of Jesus (discernible
by him in the gospels) his foundation, and deduces _from_ this the
quasi-Messiahship: but the opposite order of deduction appears to have
been the only one possible in the first age. Take Paul as a specimen.
He believed the doctrine in question; but not from reading the four
gospels,--for they did not exist. Did he then believe it by hearing
Ananias (Acts ix. 17) enter into details concerning the deeds and
words of Jesus? I cannot imagine that any wise or thoughtful person
would so judge, which after all would be a gratuitous invention. The
Acts of the Apostles give us many speeches which set forth the grounds
of accepting Jesus as Messiah; but they never press his absolute moral
perfection as a fact and a fundamental fact. "He went about doing
good, and healing all that were oppressed of the devil," is the utmost
that is advanced on this side: prophecy is urged, and his resurrection
is asserted, and the inference is drawn that "Jesus is the Christ."
Out of this flowed the farther inferences that he was Supreme
Judge,--and moreover, was Paschal Lamb, and Sacrifice, and High
Priest, and Mediator; and since every one of these characters demanded
a belief in his moral perfections, that doctrine also necessarily
followed, and was received before our present gospels existed. My
friend therefore cannot abash me by the _argumentum ad verecundiam_;
(which to me seems highly out of place in this connexion;) for the
opinion, which is, as to this single point, held by him in common with
the first Christians, was held by them on transcendental reasons which
he totally discards; and all after generations have been confirmed
in the doctrine by Authority, _i.e._ by the weight of texts or church
decisions: both of which he also discards. If I could receive
the doctrine, merely because I dared not to differ from the whole
Christian world, I might aid to swell odium against rejectors, but I
should not strengthen the cause at the bar of reason. I feel therefore
that my friend must not claim Catholicity as on his side. Trinitarians
and Arians are alike useless to his argument: nay, nor can he claim
more than a small fraction of Unitarians; for as many of the them
believe that Jesus is to be the Judge of living and dead (as the late
Dr. Lant Carpenter did) must as _necessarily_ believe his immaculate
perfection as if they were Trinitarians.
The New Testament does not distinctly explain on what grounds this
doctrine was believed; but we may observe that in 1 Peter i. 19 and 2
Cor. v. 21, it is coupled with the Atonement, and in 1 Peter ii. 21,
Romans xv. 3, it seems to be inferred from prophecy. But let us turn
to the original Eleven, who were eye and ear witnesses of Jesus, and
consider on what grounds they can have believed (if we assume that
they did all believe) the absolute moral perfection of Jesus. It is
too ridiculous to imagine then studying the writings of Matthew in
order to obtain conviction,--if any of that school, whom alone I now
address, could admit that written documents were thought of before
the Church outstept the limits of Judea. If the Eleven believed
the doctrine for some transcendental reason,--as by a Supernatural
Revelation, or on account of Prophecy, and to complete the Messiah's
character,--then their attestation is useless to my friend's argument:
will it then gain anything, if we suppose that they _believed_ Jesus
to be perfect, because they _saw_ him to be perfect? To me this would
seem no attestation worth having, but rather a piece of impertinent
ignorance. If I attest that a person whom I have known was an
eminently good man, I command a certain amount of respect to my
opinion, and I do him honour. If I celebrate his good deeds and report
his wise words, I extend his honour still farther. But if I proceed
to assure people, _on the evidence of my personal observation of him_,
that he was immaculate and absolutely perfect, was the pure Moral
Image of God, that he deserves to be made the Exclusive Model of
imitation, and is the standard by which every other man's morality
is to be corrected,--I make myself ridiculous; my panegyrics lose all
weight, and I produce far less conviction than when I praised within
human limitations. I do not know how my friend will look on this
point, (for his judgment on the whole question perplexes me, and the
views which I call _sober_ he names _prosaic_,) but I cannot resist
the conviction that universal common-sense would have rejected the
teaching of the Eleven with contempt, if they had presented, as the
basis of the gospel their _personal testimony_ to the godlike and
unapproachable moral absolutism of Jesus. But even if such a basis
was possible to the Eleven, it was impossible to Paul and Silvanus and
Timothy and Barnabas and Apollos, and the other successful preachers
to the Gentiles. High moral goodness, within human limitations, was
undoubtedly announced as a fact of the life of Jesus; but upon this
followed the supernatural claims, and the argument of prophecy;
_without_ which my friend desires to build up his view,--I have thus
developed why I think he has no right to claim Catholicity for his
judgment. I have risked to be tedious, because I find that when I
speak concisely, I am enormously misapprehended. I close this topic
by observing, that, the great animosity with which my very mild
intimations against the popular view have been met from numerous
quarters, show me that Christians do not allow this subject to be
calmly debated, end have not come to their own conclusion as the
result of a calm debate. And this is amply corroborated by my own
consciousness of the past I never dared, nor could have dared, to
criticize coolly and simply the pretensions of Jesus to be an absolute
model of morality, until I had been delivered from the weight of
authority and miracle, oppressing my critical powers.
III. I have been asserting, that he who believes Jesus to be mere man,
ought at once to believe his moral excellence finite and comparable
to that of other men; and, that our judgment to this effect cannot be
reasonably overborne by the "universal consent" of Christendom.--Thus
far we are dealing _à priori_, which here fully satisfies me: in such
an argument I need no _à posteriori_ evidence to arrive at my own
conclusion. Nevertheless, I am met by taunts and clamour, which are
not meant to be indecent, but which to my feeling are such. My critics
point triumphantly to the four gospels, and demand that I will make a
personal attack on a character which they revere, even when they know
that I cannot do so without giving great offence. Now if any one were
to call my old schoolmaster, or my old parish priest, a perfect and
universal Model, and were to claim that I would entitle him Lord, and
think of him as the only true revelation of God; should I not be
at liberty to say, without disrespect, that "I most emphatically
deprecate such extravagant claims for him"? Would this justify an
outcry, that I will publicly avow _what_ I judge to be his defects of
character, and will _prove_ to all his admirers that he was a sinner
like other men? Such a demand would be thought, I believe, highly
unbecoming and extremely unreasonable. May not my modesty, or my
regard for his memory, or my unwillingness to pain his family,
be accepted as sufficient reasons for silence? or would any one
scoffingly attribute my reluctance to attack him, to my conscious
inability to make good my case against his being "God manifest in
the flesh"? Now what, if one of his admirers had written panegyrical
memorials of him; and his character, therein described, was so
faultless, that a stranger to him was not able to descry any moral
defeat whatever in it? Is such a stranger bound to believe him to be
the Divine Standard of morals, unless he can put his finger on certain
passages of the book which imply weaknesses and faults? And is it
insulting a man, to refuse to worship him? I utterly protest against
every such pretence. As I have an infinitely stronger conviction
that Shakespeare was not in _intellect_ Divinely and Unapproachably
perfect, than that I can certainly point out in him some definite
intellectual defect; as, moreover, I am vastly more sure that Socrates
was _morally_ imperfect, than that I am able to censure him rightly;
so also, a disputant who concedes to me that Jesus is a mere man, has
no right to claim that I will point out some moral flaw in him, or
else acknowledge him to be a Unique Unparalleled Divine Soul. It is
true, I do see defects, and very serious ones, in the character of
Jesus, as drawn by his disciples; but I cannot admit that my right to
disown the pretensions made for him turns on my ability to define his
frailties. As long as (in common with my friend) I regard Jesus as
a man, so long I hold with _dogmatic_ and _intense conviction_ the
inference that he was morally imperfect, and ought not to be held
up as unapproachable in goodness; but I have, in comparison, only _a
modest_ belief that I am able to show his points of weakness.
While therefore in obedience to this call, which has risen from many
quarters, I think it right not to refuse the odious task pressed upon
me,--I yet protest that my conclusion does not depend upon it. I might
censure Socrates unjustly, or at least without convincing my readers,
if I attempted that task; but my failure would not throw a feather's
weight into the argument that Socrates was a Divine Unique and
universal Model. If I write note what is painful to readers, I beg
them to remember that I write with much reluctance, and that it is
their own fault if they read.
In approaching this subject, the first difficulty is, to know how
much of the four gospels to accept as _fact_. If we could believe the
whole, it would be easier to argue; but my friend Martineau (with me)
rejects belief of many parts: for instance, he has but a very feeble
conviction that Jesus ever spoke the discourses attributed to him in
John's gospel. If therefore I were to found upon these some imputation
of moral weakness, he would reply, that we are agreed in setting these
aside, as untrustworthy. Yet he perseveres in asserting that it is
beyond all reasonable question _what_ Jesus _was_; as though proven
inaccuracies in all the narratives did not make the results uncertain.
He says that even the poor and uneducated are fully impressed with
"the majesty and sanctity" of Christ's mind; as if _this_ were what I
am fundamentally denying; and not, only so far as would transcend the
known limits of human nature: surely "majesty and sanctity" are not
inconsistent with many weaknesses. But our judgment concerning a
man's motives, his temper, and his full conquest over self, vanity and
impulsive passion, depends on the accurate knowledge of a vast variety
of minor points; even the curl of the lip, or the discord of eye and
mouth, may change our moral judgment of a man; while, alike to my
friend and me it is certain that much of what is stated is untrue.
Much moreover of what he holds to be untrue does not seem so to any
but to the highly educated. In spite therefore of his able reply, I
abide in my opinion that he is unreasonably endeavouring to erect what
is essentially a piece of doubtful biography and difficult literary
criticism into first-rate religious importance.
I shall however try to pick up a few details which seem, as much
as any, to deserve credit, concerning the pretensions, doctrine and
conduct of Jesus.
_First_, I believe that he habitually spoke of himself by the title
"_Son of Man_"--a fact which pervades all the accounts, and was likely
to rivet itself on his hearers. Nobody but he himself ever calls him
Son of Man.
_Secondly_ I believe that in assuming this title he tacitly alluded
to the viith chapter of Daniel, and claimed for himself the throne of
judgment over all mankind.--I know no reason to doubt that he actually
delivered (in substance) the discourse in Matth. xxv. "When the Son
of Man shall come in his glory,... before him shall be gathered all
nations,... and he shall separate them, &c. &c.": and I believe that
by _the Son of Man_ and _the King_ he meant himself. Compare Luke xii.
40, ix. 56.
_Thirdly_, I believe that he habitually assumed the authoritative
dogmatic tone of one who was a universal Teacher in moral and
spiritual matters, and enunciated as a primary duty of men to learn
submissively of his wisdom and acknowledge his supremacy. This element
in his character, _the preaching of himself_ is enormously expanded in
the fourth gospel, but it distinctly exists in Matthew. Thus in Matth.
xxiii 8: "Be not ye called Rabbi [_teacher_], for one is your Teacher,
even Christ; and all ye are brethren"... Matth. x. 32: "Whosoever
shall confess ME before men, him will I confess before my Father which
is in heaven... He that loveth father or mother more than ME is not
_worthy of_ ME, &c."... Matth. xi. 27: "All things are delivered unto
ME of my Father; and _no man knoweth the Son but the Father_; neither
knoweth any man the Father, save the Son; and he to whomsoever _the
Son will reveal him._ Come unto ME, all ye that labour,... and _I_
will give you rest. Take MY yoke upon you, &c."
My friend, I find, rejects Jesus as an authoritative teacher,
distinctly denies that the acceptance of Jesus in this character is
any condition of salvation and of the divine favour, and treats of
my "demand of an oracular Christ," as inconsistent with my own
principles. But this is mere misconception of what I have said. I find
_Jesus himself_ to set up oracular claims. I find an assumption
of pre-eminence and unapproachable moral wisdom to pervade every
discourse from end to end of the gospels. If I may not believe that
Jesus assumed an oracular manner, I do not know what moral peculiarity
in him I am permitted to believe. I do not _demand_ (as my friend
seems to think) that _he shall be_ oracular, but in common with all
Christendom, I open my eyes and see that _he is_; and until I had read
my friend's review of my book, I never understood (I suppose through
my own prepossessions) that he holds Jesus _not_ to have assumed the
oracular style.
If I cut out from the four gospels this peculiarity, I must cut out,
not only the claim of Messiahship, which my friend admits to have
been made, but nearly every moral discourse and every controversy: and
_why_? except in order to make good a predetermined belief that Jesus
was morally perfect. What reason can be given me for not believing
that Jesus declared: "If any one deny ME before men, _him will I deny_
before my Father and his angels?" or any of the other texts which
couple the favour of God with a submission to such pretensions of
Jesus? I can find no reason whatever for doubting that he preached
HIMSELF to his disciples, though in the three first gospels he is
rather timid of doing this to the Pharisees and to the nation at
large. I find him uniformly to claim, sometimes in tone, sometimes in
distinct words, that we will sit at his feet as little children and
learn of him. I find him ready to answer off-hand, all difficult
questions, critical and lawyer-like, as well as moral. True, it is no
tenet of mine that intellectual and literary attainment is essential
in an individual person to high spiritual eminence. True, in another
book I have elaborately maintained the contrary. Yet in that book I
have described men's spiritual progress as often arrested at a certain
stage by a want of intellectual development; which surely would
indicate that I believed even intellectual blunders and an infinitely
perfect exhaustive morality to be incompatible. But our question here
(or at least _my_ question) is not, whether Jesus might misinterpret
prophecy, and yet be morally perfect; but whether, _after assuming
to be an oracular teacher_, he can teach some fanatical precepts, and
advance dogmatically weak and foolish arguments, without impairing our
sense of his absolute moral perfection.
I do not think it useless here to repeat (though not for my friend)
concise reasons which I gave in my first edition against admitting
dictatorial claims for Jesus. _First_, it is an unplausible opinion
that God would deviate from his ordinary course, in order to give us
anything so undesirable as an authoritative Oracle would be;--which
would paralyze our moral powers, exactly as an infallible church does,
in the very proportion in which we succeeded in eliciting responses
from it. It is not needful here to repeat what has been said to that
effect in p. 138. _Secondly_, there is no imaginable criterion, by
which we can establish that the wisdom of a teacher _is_ absolute and
illimitable. All that we can possibly discover, is the relative
fact, that another is _wiser than we_: and even this is liable to
be overturned on special points, as soon as differences of judgment
arise. _Thirdly_, while it is by no means clear what are the new
truths, for which we are to lean upon the decisions of Jesus, it
is certain that we have no genuine and trustworthy account of his
teaching. If God had intended us to receive the authoritative _dicta_
of Jesus, he would have furnished us with an unblemished record
of those dicta. To allow that we have not this, and that we must
disentangle for ourselves (by a most difficult and uncertain process)
the "true" sayings of Jesus, is surely self-refuting. _Fourthly_, if
I _must_ sit in judgment on the claims of Jesus to be the true Messiah
and Son of God, how can I concentrate all my free thought into that
one act, and thenceforth abandon free thought? This appears a moral
suicide, whether Messiah or the Pope is the object whom we _first_
criticize, in order to instal him over us, and _then_, for ever after,
refuse to criticize. In short, _we cannot build up a system of Oracles
on a basis of Free Criticism_. If we are to submit our judgment to the
dictation of some other,--whether a church or an individual,--we must
be first subjected to that other by some event from without, as by
birth; and not by a process of that very judgment which is henceforth
to be sacrificed. But from this I proceed to consider more in detail,
some points in the teaching and conduct of Jesus, which do not appear
to me consistent with absolute perfection.
The argument of Jesus concerning the tribute to Cæsar is so dramatic,
as to strike the imagination and rest on the memory; and I know no
reason for doubting that it has been correctly reported. The book of
Deuteronomy (xvii. 15) distinctly forbids Israel to set over himself
as king any who is not a native Israelite; which appeared to be a
religious condemnation of submission to Cæsar. Accordingly, since
Jesus assumed the tone of unlimited wisdom, some of Herod's party
asked him, whether it was lawful to pay tribute to Cæsar. Jesus
replied: "Why tempt ye me, hypocrites? Show me the tribute money."
When one of the coins was handed to him, he asked: "Whose image and
superscription is this?" When they replied: "Cæsar's," he gave his
authoritative decision: "Render _therefore_ to Cæsar _the things that
are Cæsar's_."
In this reply not only the poor and uneducated, but many likewise of
the rich and educated, recognize "majesty and sanctity:" yet I find it
hard to think that my strong-minded friend will defend the justness,
wisdom and honesty of it. To imagine that because a coin bears Cæsar's
head, _therefore_ it is Cæsar's property, and that he may demand to
have as many of such coins as he chooses paid over to him, is puerile,
and notoriously false. The circulation of foreign coin of every kind
was as common in the Mediterranean then as now; and everybody knew
that the coin was the property of the _holder_, not of him whose
head it bore. Thus the reply of Jesus, which pretended to be a moral
decision, was unsound and absurd: yet it is uttered in a tone of
dictatorial wisdom, and ushered in by a grave rebuke, "Why tempt ye
me, hypocrites?" He is generally understood to mean, "Why do you try
to implicate me in a political charge?" and it is supposed that
he prudently _evaded_ the question. I have indeed heard this
interpretation from high Trinitarians; which indicates to me how
dead is their moral sense in everything which concerns the conduct of
Jesus. No reason appears why he should not have replied, that Moses
forbade Israel _voluntarily_ to place himself under a foreign
king, but did not inculcate fanatical and useless rebellion against
overwhelming power. But such a reply, which would have satisfied a
more commonplace mind, has in it nothing brilliant and striking. I
cannot but think that Jesus shows a vain conceit in the cleverness
of his answer: I do not think it so likely to have been a conscious
evasion. But neither does his rebuke of the questioners at all commend
itself to me. How can any man assume to be an authoritative teacher,
and then claim that men shall not put his wisdom to the proof? Was it
not their _duty_ to do so? And when, in result, the trial has proved
the defect of his wisdom, did they not perform a useful public
service? In truth, I cannot see the Model Man in his rebuke.--Let
not my friend say that the error was merely intellectual: blundering
self-sufficiency is a moral weakness.
I might go into detail concerning other discourses, where error and
arrogance appear to me combined. But, not to be tedious,--in general
I must complain that Jesus purposely adopted an enigmatical and
pretentious style of teaching, unintelligible to his hearers,
and needing explanation in private. That this was his systematic
procedure, I believe, because, in spite of the great contrast of the
fourth gospel to the others, it has this peculiarity in common
with them. Christian divines are used to tell us that this mode was
_peculiarly instructive_ to the vulgar of Judæa; and they insist on
the great wisdom displayed in his choice of the lucid parabolical
style. But in Matth. xiii. 10-15, Jesus is made confidentially to avow
precisely the opposite reason, viz. that he desires the vulgar _not_
to understand him, but only the select few to whom he gives private
explanations. I confess I believe the Evangelist rather than the
modern Divine. I cannot conceive how so strange a notion could ever
have possessed the companions of Jesus, if it had not been true. If
really this parabolical method had been peculiarly intelligible,
what could make them imagine the contrary? Unless they found it very
obscure themselves, whence came the idea that it was obscure to the
multitude? As a fact, it _is_ very obscure, to this day. There is much
that I most imperfectly understand, owing to unexplained metaphor:
as: "Agree with thine adversary quickly, &c. &c.:" "Whoso calls his
brother[2] a fool, is in danger of hell fire:" "Every one must be
salted with fire, and every sacrifice salted with salt. Have salt
in yourselves, and be at peace with one another." Now every man of
original and singular genius has his own forms of thought; in so far
as they are natural, we must not complain, if to us they are obscure.
But the moment _affectation_ comes in, they no longer are reconcilable
with the perfect character: they indicate vanity, and incipient
sacerdotalism. The distinct notice that Jesus avoided to expound his
parables to the multitude, and made this a boon to the privileged
few; and that without a parable he spake not to the multitude; and
the pious explanation, that this was a fulfilment of Prophecy, "I will
open my mouth in parables, I will utter dark sayings on the harp,"
persuade me that the impression of the disciples was a deep reality.
And it is in entire keeping with the general narrative, which shows in
him so much of mystical assumption. Strip the parables of the imagery,
and you find that sometimes one thought has been dished up four
or five times, and generally, that an idea is dressed into sacred
grandeur. This mystical method made a little wisdom go a great way
with the multitude; and to such a mode of economizing resources the
instinct of the uneducated man betakes itself, when he is claiming to
act a part for which he is imperfectly prepared.
It is common with orthodox Christians to take for granted, that
unbelief of Jesus was a sin, and belief a merit, at a time when no
rational grounds of belief were as yet public. Certainly, whoever asks
questions with a view to _prove_ Jesus, is spoken of vituperatingly
in the gospels; and it does appear to me that the prevalent Christian
belief is a true echo of Jesus's own feeling. He disliked being put
to the proof. Instead of rejoicing in it, as a true and upright man
ought,--instead of blaming those who accept his pretensions on too
slight grounds,--instead of encouraging full inquiry and giving frank
explanations, he resents doubt, shuns everything that will test him,
is very obscure as to his own pretensions, (so as to need probing
and positive questions, whether he _does_ or _does not_ profess to
be Messiah,) and yet is delighted at all easy belief. When asked for
miracles, he sighs and groans at the unreasonableness of it; yet
does not honestly and plainly renounce pretension to miracle, as Mr.
Martineau would, but leaves room for credit to himself for as many
miracles as the credulous are willing to impute to him. It is possible
that here the narrative is unjust to his memory. So far from being
the picture of perfection, it sometimes seems to me the picture of a
conscious and wilful impostor. His general character is too high for
_this_; and I therefore make deductions from the account. Still, I do
not see how the present narrative could have grown up, if he had
been really simple and straight-forward, and not perverted by his
essentially false position. Enigma and mist seem to be his element;
and when I find his high satisfaction at all personal recognition and
bowing before his individuality, I almost doubt whether, if one wished
to draw the character of a vain and vacillating pretender, it would be
possible to draw anything more to the purpose than this. His general
rule (before a certain date) is, to be cautious in public, but bold
in private to the favoured few. I cannot think that such a character,
appearing now, would seem to my friend a perfect model of a man.
No precept bears on its face clearer marks of coming from the genuine
Jesus, than that of _selling all and following him_. This was his
original call to his disciples. It was enunciated authoritatively
on various occasions. It is incorporated with precepts of perpetual
obligation, in such a way, that we cannot without the greatest
violence pretend that he did not intend it as a precept[3] to
_all_ his disciples. In Luke xii. 22-40, he addresses the disciples
collectively against Avarice; and a part of the discourse is: "Fear
not, little flock; for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you
the kingdom. _Sell that ye have, and give alms_: provide yourselves
bags that wax not old; a treasure in the heavens that faileth not,
&c.... Let your loins be girded about, and your lights burning," &c.
To say that he was not intending to teach a universal morality,[4]
is to admit that his precepts are a trap; for they then mix up and
confound mere contingent duties with universal sacred obligations,
enunciating all in the same breath, and with the same solemnity. I
cannot think that Jesus intended any separation. In fact, when a
rich young man asked of him what he should do, that he might inherit
eternal life, and pleaded that he had kept the ten commandments, but
felt that to be insufficient, Jesus said unto him: "_If thou wilt be
perfect_, go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou
shalt have treasure in heaven:" so that the duty was not contingent
upon the peculiarity of a man possessing apostolic gifts, but was with
Jesus the normal path for all who desired perfection. When the young
man went away sorrowing, Jesus moralized on it, saying: "How hardly
shall a rich man enter into the kingdom of heaven:" which again
shows, that an abrupt renunciation of wealth was to be the general and
ordinary method of entering the kingdom. Hereupon, when the disciples
asked: "Lo! we _have_ forsaken all, and followed thee: what
shall we have _therefore_?" Jesus, instead of rebuking their
self-righteousness, promised them as a reward, that they should sit
upon twelve[5] thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. A precept
thus systematically enforced, is illustrated by the practice, not only
of the twelve, but apparently of the seventy, and what is stronger
still, by the practice of the five thousand disciples after the
celebrated days of the first Pentecost. There was no longer a Jesus
on earth to itinerate with, yet the disciples in the fervour of first
love obeyed his precept: the rich sold their possessions, and laid the
price at the apostles' feet.
The mischiefs inherent in such a precept rapidly showed themselves,
and good sense corrected the error. But this very fact proves most
emphatically that the precept was pre-apostolic, and came from the
genuine Jesus; otherwise it could never have found its way into
the gospels. It is undeniable, that the first disciples, by whose
tradition alone we have any record of what Jesus taught, understood
him to deliver this precept to _all_ who desired to enter into the
kingdom of heaven,--all who desired to be perfect: why then are we to
refuse belief, and remould the precepts of Jesus till they please our
own morality? This is not the way to learn historical fact.
That to inculcate religious beggary as the _only_ form and mode of
spiritual perfection, is fanatical and mischievous, even the church
of Rome will admit. Protestants universally reject it as a deplorable
absurdity;--not merely wealthy bishops, squires and merchants, but
the poorest curate also. A man could not preach such doctrine in a
Protestant pulpit without incurring deep reprobation and contempt;
but when preached by Jesus, it is extolled as divine wisdom,--and
disobeyed.
Now I cannot look on this as a pure intellectual error, consistent
with moral perfection. A deep mistake as to the nature of such
perfection seems to me inherent in the precept itself; a mistake which
indicates a moral unsoundness. The conduct of Jesus to the rich young
man appears to me a melancholy exhibition of perverse doctrine, under
an ostentation of superior wisdom. The young man asked for bread and
Jesus gave him a stone. Justly he went away sorrowful, at receiving a
reply which his conscience rejected as false and foolish. But this is
not all Jesus was necessarily on trial, when any one, however sincere,
came to ask questions so deeply probing the quality of his wisdom
as this: "How may I be perfect?" and to be on trial was always
disagreeable to him. He first gave the reply, "Keep the commandments;"
and if the young man had been satisfied, and had gone away, it appears
that Jesus would have been glad to be rid of him: for his tone is
magisterial, decisive and final. This, I confess, suggests to me, that
the aim of Jesus was not so much to _enlighten_ the young man, as to
stop his mouth, and keep up his own ostentation of omniscience. Had
he desired to enlighten him, surely no mere dry dogmatic command was
needed, but an intelligent guidance of a willing and trusting soul.
I do not pretend to certain knowledge in these matters. Even when we
hear the tones of voice and watch the features, we often mistake.
We have no such means here of checking the narrative. But the best
general result which I can draw from the imperfect materials, is what
I have said.
After the merit of "selling all and following Jesus," a second merit,
not small, was, to receive those whom he sent. In Matt. x., we read
that he sends out his twelve disciples, (also seventy in Luke,) men at
that time in a very low state of religions development,--men who did
not themselves know what the Kingdom of Heaven meant,--to deliver in
every village and town a mere formula of words: "Repent ye: for the
Kingdom of Heaven is at hand." They were ordered to go without money,
scrip or cloak, but to live on religious alms; and it is added,--that
if any house or city does not receive them, _it shall be more
tolerable for Sodom and Gomorrha in the day of judgment_ than for it.
He adds, v. 40: "He that receiveth _you_, receiveth _me_, and he that
receiveth _me_, receiveth HIM that sent me."--I quite admit, that in
all probability it was (on the whole) the more pious part of Israel
which was likely to receive these ignorant missionaries; but inasmuch
as they had no claims whatever, intrinsic or extrinsic, to reverence,
it appears to me a very extravagant and fanatical sentiment thus
emphatically to couple the favour or wrath of God with their reception
or rejection.
A third, yet greater merit in the eyes of Jesus, was, to acknowledge
him as the Messiah predicted by the prophets, which he was not,
according to my friend. According to Matthew (xvi. 13), Jesus put
leading questions to the disciples in order to elicit a confession of
his Messiahship, and emphatically blessed Simon for making the avowal
which he desired; but instantly forbade them to tell the great secret
to any one. Unless this is to be discarded as fiction, Jesus,
although to his disciples in secret he confidently assumed Messianic
pretensions, had a just inward misgiving, which accounts both for his
elation at Simon's avowal, and for his prohibition to publish it.
In admitting that Jesus was not the Messiah of the prophets, my friend
says, that if Jesus were _less_ than Messiah, we can reverence him
no longer; but that he was _more_ than Messiah. This is to me
unintelligible. The Messiah whom he claimed to be, was not only the
son of David, celebrated in the prophets, but emphatically the Son of
Man of Daniel vii., who shall come in the clouds of heaven, to take
dominion, glory and kingdom, that all people, nations and languages
shall serve him,--an everlasting kingdom which shall not pass away.
How Jesus himself interprets his supremacy, as Son of Man, in Matt.
x., xi., xxiii., xxv., and elsewhere, I have already observed. To
claim such a character, seems to me like plunging from a pinnacle
of the temple. If miraculous power holds him up and makes good his
daring, he is more than man; but if otherwise, to have failed will
break all his bones. I can no longer give the same human reverence
as before to one who has been seduced into vanity so egregious; and
I feel assured _à priori_ that such presumption _must have_ entangled
him into evasions and insincerities, which _naturally_ end in
crookedness of conscience and real imposture, however noble a man's
commencement, and however unshrinking his sacrifices of goods and ease
and life.
The time arrived at last, when Jesus felt that he must publicly assert
Messiahship; and this was certain to bring things to an issue. I
suppose him to have hoped that he was Messiah, until hope and the
encouragement given him by Peter and others grew into a persuasion
strong enough to act upon, but not always strong enough to still
misgivings. I say, I suppose this; but I build nothing on my
supposition. I however see, that when he had resolved to claim
Messiahship publicly, one of two results was inevitable, _if_ that
claim was ill-founded:--viz., either he must have become an impostor,
in order to screen his weakness; or, he must have retracted his
pretensions amid much humiliation, and have retired into privacy to
learn sober wisdom. From these alternatives _there was escape only by
death_, and upon death Jesus purposely rushed.
All Christendom has always believed that the death of Jesus was
_voluntarily_ incurred; and unless no man ever became a wilful martyr,
I cannot conceive why we are to doubt the fact concerning Jesus. When
he resolved to go up to Jerusalem, he was warned by his disciples
of the danger; but so far was he from being blind to it, that
he distinctly announced to them that he knew he should suffer in
Jerusalem the shameful death of a malefactor. On his arrival in the
suburbs, his first act was, ostentatiously to ride into the city on an
ass's colt in the midst of the acclamations of the multitude, in order
to exhibit himself as having a just right to the throne of David. Thus
he gave a handle to imputations of intended treason.--He next entered
the temple courts, where doves and lambs were sold for sacrifice,
and--(I must say it to my friend's amusement, and in defiance of his
kind but keen ridicule,) committed a breach of the peace by flogging
with a whip those who trafficked in the area. By such conduct he
undoubtedly made himself liable to legal punishment, and probably
might have been publicly scourged for it, had the rulers chosen to
moderate their vengeance. But he "meant to be prosecuted for treason,
not for felony," to use the words of a modern offender. He therefore
commenced the most exasperating attacks on all the powerful,
calling them hypocrites and whited sepulchres and vipers' brood; and
denouncing upon them the "condemnation of hell." He was successful. He
had both enraged the rulers up to the point of thirsting for his life,
and given colour to the charge of political rebellion. He resolved
to die; and he died. Had his enemies contemptuously let him live, he
would have been forced to act the part of Jewish Messiah, or renounce
Messiahship.
If any one holds Jesus to be not amenable to the laws of human
morality, I am not now reasoning with such a one. But if any one
claims for him a human perfection, then I say that his conduct on this
occasion was neither laudable nor justifiable; far otherwise. There
are cases in which life may be thrown away for a great cause; as when
a leader in battle rushes upon certain death, in order to animate
his own men; but the case before us has no similarity to that. If
our accounts are not wholly false, Jesus knowingly and purposely
exasperated the rulers into a great crime,--the crime of taking his
life from personal resentment. His inflammatory addresses to the
multitude have been defended as follows:
"The prophetic Spirit is sometimes oblivious of the rules of the
drawing-room; and inspired Conscience, like the inspiring God, seeing
a hypocrite, will take the liberty to say so, and act accordingly. Are
the superficial amenities, the soothing fictions, the smotherings of
the burning heart,... really paramount in this world, and never to
give way? and when a soul of _power, unable to refrain_, rubs off,
though it be with rasping words, all the varnish from rottenness and
lies, is he to be tried in our courts of compliment for a misdemeanor?
Is there never a higher duty than that of either pitying or converting
guilty men,--the duty of publicly exposing them? of awakening the
popular conscience, and sweeping away the conventional timidities,
for a severe return to truth and reality? No rule of morals can be
recognized as just, which prohibits conformity of human speech to
fact; and insists on terms of civility being kept with all manner of
iniquity."
I certainly have not appealed to any conventional morality of
drawing-room compliment, but to the highest and purest principles
which I know; and I lament to find my judgment so extremely in
opposition. To me it seems that _inability to refrain_ shows weakness,
not _power_, of soul, and that nothing is easier than to give vent to
violent invective against bad rulers. The last sentence quoted, seems
to say, that the speaking of Truth is never to be condemned: but I
cannot agree to this. When Truth will only exasperate, and cannot do
good, silence is imperative. A man who reproaches an armed tyrant in
words too plain, does but excite him to murder; and the shocking thing
is, that this seems to have been the express object of Jesus. No good
result could be reasonably expected. Publicly to call men in authority
by names of intense insult, the writer of the above distinctly sees
will never convert them; but he thinks it was adapted to awaken the
popular conscience. Alas! it needs no divine prophet to inflame a
multitude against the avarice, hypocrisy, and oppression of rulers,
nor any deep inspiration of conscience in the multitude to be wide
awake on that point themselves A Publius Clodius or a Cleon will do
that work as efficiently as a Jesus; nor does it appear that the poor
are made better by hearing invectives against the rich and powerful.
If Jesus had been aiming, in a good cause, to excite rebellion, the
mode of address which he assumed seems highly appropriate; and in such
a calamitous necessity, to risk exciting murderous enmity would be the
act of a hero: but as the account stands, it seems to me the deed of
a fanatic. And it is to me manifest that he overdid his attack, and
failed to commend it to the conscience of his hearers. For up to
this point the multitude was in his favour. He was notoriously so
acceptable to the many, as to alarm the rulers; indeed the belief
of his popularity had shielded him from prosecution. But after this
fierce address he has no more popular support. At his public trial the
vast majority judge him to deserve punishment, and prefer to ask free
forgiveness for Barabbas, a bandit who was in prison for murder. We
moderns, nursed in an arbitrary belief concerning these events, drink
in with our first milk the assumption that Jesus alone was guiltless,
and all the other actors in this sad affair inexcusably guilty. Let no
one imagine that I defend for a moment the cruel punishment which raw
resentment inflicted on him. But though the rulers felt the rage of
Vengeance, the people, who had suffered no personal wrong, were moved
only by ill-measured Indignation. The multitude love to hear the
powerful exposed and reproached up to a certain limit; but if reproach
go clearly beyond all that they feel to be deserved, a violent
sentiment reacts on the head of the reviler: and though popular
indignation (even when free from the element of selfishness) ill fixes
the due _measure_ of Punishment, I have a strong belief that it is
righteous, when it pronounces the verdict Guilty.
Does my friend deny that the death of Jesus was wilfully incurred? The
"orthodox" not merely admit, but maintain it. Their creed justifies it
by the doctrine, that his death was a "sacrifice" so pleasing to
God, as to expiate the sins of the world. This honestly meets the
objections to self-destruction; for how better could life be used,
than by laying it down for such a prize? But besides all other
difficulties in the very idea of atonement, the orthodox creed
startles us by the incredible conception, that a voluntary sacrifice
of life should be unacceptable to God, unless offered by ferocious and
impious hands. If Jesus had "authority from the Father to lay down his
life," was he unable to stab himself in the desert, or on the sacred
altar of the Temple, without involving guilt to any human being?
Did He, who is at once "High Priest" and Victim, when "offering
up himself" and "presenting his own blood unto God," need any
justification for using the sacrificial knife? The orthodox view more
clearly and unshrinkingly avows, that Jesus deliberately goaded the
wicked rulers into the deeper wickedness of murdering him; but on my
friend's view, that Jesus was _no_ sacrifice, but only a Model man,
his death is an unrelieved calamity. Nothing but a long and complete
life could possibly test the fact of his perfection; and the longer he
lived, the better for the world.
In entire consistency with his previous determination to die, Jesus,
when arraigned, refused to rebut accusation, and behaved as one
pleading Guilty. He was accused of saying that if they destroyed the
temple, he would rebuild it in three days; but how this was to the
purpose, the evangelists who name it do not make clear. The fourth
however (without intending so to do) explains it; and I therefore am
disposed to believe his statement, though I put no faith in his long
discourses. It appears (John ii. 18-20) that Jesus after scourging the
people out of the temple-court, was asked for a sign to justify his
assuming so very unusual authority: on which he replied: "Destroy
this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." Such a reply was
regarded as a manifest evasion; since he was sure that they would
not pull the temple down in order to try whether he could raise it up
miraculously. Now if Jesus really meant what the fourth gospel says he
meant;--if he "spoke of _the temple of his body_;"--how was any one
to guess that? It cannot be denied, that such a reply, _primâ facie_,
suggested, that he was a wilful impostor: was it not then his obvious
duty, when this accusation was brought against him, to explain that
his words had been mystical and had been misunderstood? The form of
the imputation in Mark xiv. 58, would make it possible to imagine,--if
the _three days_ were left out, and if his words were _not_ said in
reply to the demand of a sign,--that Jesus had merely avowed that
though the outward Jewish temple were to be destroyed, he would erect
a church of worshippers as a spiritual temple. If so, "John" has
grossly misrepresented him, and then obtruded a very far-fetched
explanation. But whatever was the meaning of Jesus, if it was honest,
I think he was bound to explain it; and not leave a suspicion of
imposture to rankle in men's minds.[6] Finally, if the whole were
fiction, and he never uttered such words, then it was his duty to deny
them, and not remain dumb like a sheep before its shearers.
After he had confirmed by his silence the belief that he had used
a dishonest evasion indicative of consciousness that he was no real
Messiah, he suddenly burst out with a full reply to the High Priest's
question; and avowed that he _was_ the Messiah, the Son of God; and
that they should hereafter see him sitting on the right-hand of power,
and coming in the clouds of heaven,--of course to enter into judgment
on them all. I am the less surprized that this precipitated his
condemnation, since he himself seems to have designed precisely that
result. The exasperation which he had succeeded in kindling led to his
cruel death; and when men's minds had cooled, natural horror possessed
them for such a retribution on such a man. His _words_ had been met
with _deeds_: the provocation he had given was unfelt to those beyond
the limits of Jerusalem; and to the Jews who assembled from distant
parts at the feast of Pentecost he was nothing but the image of a
sainted martyr.
I have given more than enough indications of points in which the
conduct of Jesus does not seem to me to have been that of a perfect
man: how any one can think him a Universal Model, is to me still less
intelligible. I might say much more on this subject. But I will merely
add, that when my friend gives the weight of his noble testimony to
the Perfection of Jesus, I think it is due to himself and to us that
he should make clear what he means by this word "Jesus." He ought
to publish--(I say it in deep seriousness, not sarcastically)--an
expurgated gospel; for in truth I do not know how much of what I have
now adduced from the gospel as _fact_, he will admit to be fact. I
neglect, he tells me, "a higher moral criticism," which, if I rightly
understand, would explode, as evidently unworthy of Jesus, many of the
representations pervading the gospels: as, that Jesus claimed to be
an oracular teacher, and attached spiritual life or death to belief
or disbelief in this claim. My friend says, it is beyond all serious
question _what_ Jesus _was_: but his disbelief of the narrative seems
to be so much wider than mine, as to leave me more uncertain than
ever about it. If he will strike out of the gospels all that he
disbelieves, and so enable me to understand _what_ is the Jesus whom
he reveres, I have so deep a sense of his moral and critical powers,
that I am fully prepared to expect that he may remove many of my
prejudices and relieve my objections: but I cannot honestly say that
I see the least probability of his altering my conviction, that in
_consistency_ of goodness Jesus fell far below vast numbers of his
unhonoured disciples.
[Footnote 1: I have by accident just taken up the "British
Quarterly," and alighted upon the following sentence concerning Madame
Roland:--"_To say that she was without fault, would be to say that she
was not human_." This so entirely expresses and concludes all that I
have to say, that I feel surprise at my needing at all to write such a
chapter as the present.]
[Footnote 2: I am acquainted with the interpretation, that the
word Môrè is not here Greek, _i.e., fool_, but is Hebrew, and means
_rebel_, which is stronger than Raca, _silly fellow_. This gives
partial, but only partial relief.]
[Footnote 3: Indeed we have in Luke vi. 20-24, a version of the
Beatitudes so much in harmony with this lower doctrine, as to make
it an open question, whether the version in Matth. v. is not
an improvement upon Jesus, introduced by the purer sense of the
collective church. In Luke, he does not bless the poor _in spirit_,
and those who hunger _after righteousness_, but absolutely the "poor"
and the "hungry," and all who honour _Him_; and in contrast, curses
_the rich_ and those who are full.]
[Footnote 4: At the close, is the parable about the absent master of
a house; and Peter asks, "Lord? (Sir?) speakest thou this parable
unto _us_, or also unto _all_?" Who would not have hoped an ingenuous
reply, "To you only," or, "To everybody"? Instead of which, so
inveterate is his tendency to muffle up the simplest things in
mystery, he replies, "Who then is that faithful and wise steward,"
&c., &c., and entirely evades reply to the very natural question.]
[Footnote 5: This implied that Judas, as one of the twelve, had earned
the heavenly throne by the price of earthly goods.]
[Footnote 6: If the account in John is not wholly false, I think the
reply in every case discreditable. If literal, it all but indicates
wilful imposture. If mystical, it is disingenuously evasive; and it
tended, not to instruct, but to irritate, and to move suspicion
and contempt. Is this the course for a religious teacher?--to speak
darkly, so as to mislead and prejudice; and this, when he represents
it as a matter of spiritual life and death to accept his teaching and
his supremacy?]