CHAPTER II

MODES OF CONSERVATIVE FALLACY

To all such reminders the present-day expert will reply, belike, that

he does not need them. He, profiting by the past, can commit no such

errors. And yet, however right the present members of the apostolic

succession of truth-monopolists may be, there is an astonishing

likeness in their tone and temper over the last heresy to that of their

predecessors, down to the twentieth generation. Anger and bluster,

boasting and scolding, snarl and sneer, come no less spontaneously

to the tongues of the professional defender of the present minimum of

creed than they did to those of the full-blooded breed of the ages of

the maximum, or of Calvin and Bonner. From the defence of the "real

presence" of the God to that of the bare personal existence of the

Man is a long descent; but there is a singular sameness in the manner

of the controversy. As their expert ancestors proved successively

the absolute truth of the corporal presence in the wafer, or the

humanity of the Son against those who dubbed him merely divine, or

his divinity against those who pronounced him merely human, or the

inerrancy of the Gospels against the blasphemers who pointed out

the contradictions, or the historic certainty of the miracles and

the Virgin Birth and the Resurrection and the Ascension against the

"materialists" who put such Christian myths on a level with Pagan,

so do the expert demonstrators of the bare historicity of the now

undeified God establish by vituperation and derision, declamation

and contempt, the supreme certainty of the minimum after all the

supernatural certainties are gone. Even as Swiss patriots undertook to

demonstrate "somebody" and "something" behind the legend of William

Tell when it had ceased to be possible to burn men at the stake for

exposing the apple-myth, so do the descendants of the demonstrators

of the real presence now go about to make clear the real existence.

I speak, of course, of the ruck of the vindicators, not of the

believers; and Professor Schmiedel and M. Loisy, I trust, will not

suspect me of classing them with men many of whom are as hostile to

them as to the thesis which those scholars seek by rational methods

to confute. Professor Schmiedel has even avowed that a proof of

the non-historicity of the Gospel Jesus would not affect his inner

religious opinions; and such high detachment has been attained to

by others. That civilized scholars credit, and might at a pinch

maintain in debate, the historicity of the Gospel Jesus as calmly as

they might the historicity of Lycurgus against its impugners, I am

well aware. And to such readers, if I have the honour to obtain any,

I address not a warning but an appeal. There is an attitude towards

the problem which incurs no reproach on the score of tone and temper,

and which will naturally recommend itself all the more to men of real

culture, but which yet, I think, only illustrates in another way the

immense difficulty of all-round intellectual vigilance. Let me give

an example in an extract from a rather noteworthy pronouncement upon

the question in hand:--

Of Paul's divine Master no biography can ever be written. We have

a vivid impression of an unique, effulgent personality. We have

a considerable body of sayings which must be genuine because

they are far too great to have been invented by His disciples,

and, for the rest, whatever royal robes and tributes of devotion

the Church of A.D. 70-100 thought most fitting for its king. The

Gospels are the creation of faith and love: faith and love hold

the key to their interpretation. (Canon Inge, art. "St. Paul"

in Quarterly Review, Jan., 1914, p. 45.)

I am not here concerned to ask whether the closing words are the

expression of an orthodox belief; or what orthodoxy makes of the

further proposition that "With St. Paul it is quite different. He is a

saint without a luminous halo." The idea seems to be that concerning

the saint without a nimbus we can get at the historical truth,

while in the other case we cannot--a proposition worth orthodox

attention. But what concerns the open-minded investigator is the

logic of the words I have italicized. It is obvious that they proceed

(1) on the assumption that what non-miraculous biography the Gospels

give is in the main absolutely trustworthy--that is to say, that the

accounts of the disciples and the teaching are historical; and (2)

on the assumption that we are historically held to the traditional

view that the Gospel sayings originated with the alleged Founder as

they purport. It is necessary to point out that this is not a licit

historical induction. Even Canon Inge by implication admits that

not all the Gospel sayings have the quality which he regards as

certifying authenticity; and on no reasonable ground can he claim

that the others must have been "invented by the disciples." The

alternative is spurious. No one is in a position to deny that any

given saying may have been invented by non-disciples. In point

of fact, many professional theologians are agreed in tracing to

outside sources some tolerably fine passages, such as the address to

Jerusalem (Mt. xxiii, 37; Lk. xiii, 34). The critics in question do

not ascribe that deliverance to inventive disciples; they infer it

to have been a non-Christian document. Many other critics, again,

now pronounce the whole Sermon on the Mount--regarded by Baur as

signally genuine--a compilation from earlier Hebrew literature,

Biblical and other. Which then are the "great" sayings that could not

be thus accounted for? Without specification there can be no rational

discussion of the problem; and even the proposition about the exegetic

function of "faith and love" affects to be in itself rational.

The plain truth would seem to be that Canon Inge has formed for himself

no tenable critical position. He has merely reiterated the fallacy

of Mill, who in his Three Essays on Religion (pp. 253-54) wrote:--

Whatever else may be taken away from us by rational criticism,

Christ is still left; a unique figure, not more unlike all his

precursors than all his followers, even those who had the direct

benefit of his personal teaching. It is of no use to say that

Christ as exhibited in the Gospels is not historical, and that

we know not how much of what is admirable has been superadded

by the tradition of his followers. The tradition of followers

suffices to insert any number of marvels, and may have inserted

all the miracles which he is reputed to have wrought. But who

among his disciples or among their proselytes was capable of

inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining the

life and character revealed in the Gospels? Certainly not

the fishermen of Galilee; as certainly not St. Paul, whose

character and idiosyncrasies were of a totally different sort;

still less the early Christian writers, in whom nothing is more

evident than that the good which was in them was all derived,

as they always professed that it was derived, from the higher

source. What could be added and interpolated by a disciple we

may see in the mystical parts of St. John, matter imported from

Philo and the Alexandrian Platonists and put into the mouth of

the Saviour in long speeches about himself such as the other

Gospels contain not the slightest vestige of, though pretended

to have been delivered on occasions of the deepest interest and

when his principal followers were all present; most prominently

at the last supper. The East was full of men who could have stolen

(!) any quantity of this poor stuff, as the multitudinous Oriental

sects of Gnostics afterwards did. But about the life and sayings

of Jesus there is a stamp of personal originality combined with

profundity of insight which, if we abandon the idle expectation

of finding scientific precision where something very different

was aimed at, must place the Prophet of Nazareth, even in the

estimation of those who have no belief in his inspiration,

in the very first rank of men of sublime genius of whom our

species can boast. When this pre-eminent genius is combined

with the qualities of probably the greatest moral reformer, and

martyr to that mission, who ever existed on earth, religion [sic]

cannot be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on this man

as the ideal representative and guide of humanity.... Add that,

to the conception of the rational sceptic, it remains a possibility

that Christ actually was what he supposed himself to be--not God,

for he never made the smallest pretension to that character, and

would probably have thought such a pretension as blasphemous as

it seemed to the men who condemned him--but a man charged with a

special, express, and unique commission from God to lead mankind

to truth and virtue....

Ein historischer Kopf hatte er nicht, is a German economist's criticism

of Mill which I fear will have to stand in other fields than that

of economics. The man who wrote this unmeasured dithyramb can never

have read the Gospels and the Hebrew books with critical attention;

and can never have reflected critically upon his own words in this

connection. The assumption that "the fishermen of Galilee" could not

have attained to thoughts which are expressly alleged to have been

put forth by an untaught carpenter of Galilee is on the face of it a

flight of thoughtless declamation. Had Mill ever critically read the

Old Testament and the Apocrypha, he must have been aware that the main

precepts of the Sermon on the Mount, which are presumably among the

unspecified objects of his panegyric, were all there beforehand. Had

he taken the trouble to investigate before writing, he could have

found in Hennell's Inquiry (1838), which popularized the old research

of Schoettgen; in Nork's Rabbinische Quellen und Parallelen (1839);

and in Les Origines du Sermon de la Montagne by Hippolyte Rodrigues

(1868), a copious demonstration of the Jewish currency of every moral

idea in the Christian document, often in saner forms. And he ought

to have known from his own reading that the doctrine of forgiveness

for injuries, which appears to be the main ground for the customary

panegyric of the Sermon, was common to Greeks and Romans before the

Gospels were compiled. From the duty of giving alms freely--which

is repeatedly laid down in the Old Testament--to that of the sin

of concupiscence and the wrongness of divorce for trivial causes,

every moral idea in the Sermon had been formulated alike by Jews and

Gentiles beforehand. [3] And if it be argued that the compilation

of such a set of precepts with a number of religious dicta (equally

current in non-Christian Jewry) is evidence of a special ethical or

religious gift in the compiler, the answer is that precisely the fact

of such a compilation is the disproof of the assertion in the Gospels

that the whole was delivered as a sermon on a mountain. A sermon it

never was and never could be; and if the compiler was a man of unique

character and qualification he was not the Gospel Jesus but the very

type of which Mill denied the possibility!

That the Gospel ethic is non-original becomes more and more clear with

every extension of relevant research. The Testaments of the Twelve

Patriarchs, written between 109 and 106 B.C. by a Quietist Pharisee,

is found to yield not only origins or anticipations for pseudo-historic

data in the Gospels but patterns for its moral doctrine. Thus the

notion that the Twelve Apostles are to rule over the tribes in the

Messianic kingdom is merely an adaptation of the teaching in the

Testaments that the twelve sons of Jacob are so to rule. [4] There

too appears for the first time in Jewish literature the formula

"on His right hand"; [5] and a multitude of close textual parallels

clearly testify to perusal of the book by the Gospel-framers and the

epistle-makers. But above all is the Jewish book the original for the

doctrines of forgiveness and brotherly love. Whereas the Old Testament

leaves standing the ethic of revenge alongside of the prescription to

forgive one's enemy, the Testaments give out what a highly competent

Christian editor pronounces to be "the most remarkable statement

on the subject of forgiveness in all ancient literature. They show

a wonderful insight into the true psychology of the question. So

perfect are the parallels in thought and diction between these

verses [Test. Gad, vi, 3-7] and Luke xvii, 3; Matt. xviii, 15, 35,

that we must assume our Lord's acquaintance with them. The meaning

of forgiveness in both cases is the highest and noblest known to

us--namely, the restoring the offender to communion with us, which

he had forfeited through his offence.... We now see the importance

of our text. It shows that pre-Christian Judaism possessed a noble

system of ethics on the subject of forgiveness." [6]

Here the tribute goes to a Pharisee; in another connection it redounds

to the other butt of Christian disparagement, the Scribes. As our

editor points out, the collocation of the commands to love God and

one's neighbour is even in Luke (x, 25-27) assigned not to Jesus but

to a Scribe. But this too is found in the Testaments. "That the two

great commandments were already conjoined in the teaching of the

Scribes at the time of our Lord we may reasonably infer from our

text, [7] which was written 140 years earlier, and from the account

in Luke." [8] And here too, a century before the Christian era,

we have a Jewish predication of the salvation of the Gentiles, [9]

in the patronizing Jewish sense.

It is only for men partly hypnotized by sectarian creed that there

can be anything surprising in these anticipations. The notion that

Sacred Books contain the highest and rarest thought of their respective

periods is a delusion that any critical examination of probabilities

will destroy. Relatively high and rare thought does not find its

way into Sacred Books; what these present is but the thought that

is perceptible and acceptable to the majority, or a strong minority,

of the better people; and it is never purified of grave imperfection,

precisely because these never are. Perfect ethic is the possession

of the perfect people, an extremely rare species. The ethic of the

Testaments, which is an obvious improvement on that of average Jewry,

is in turn imperfect enough; even as that of the Gospels remains

stamped with Jewish particularism, and is irretrievably blemished by

the grotesquely iniquitous doctrine of damnation for non-belief.

Such asseverations as Mill's, constantly repeated as they are by

educated men, are simply expressions of failure to comprehend

the nature and the possibilities of life, of civilization, of

history. The thesis is that in a world containing no one else capable

of elevated thought, moral or religious, there suddenly appeared a

marvellously inspired teacher, who chose a dozen disciples incapable

of comprehending his doctrine, and during the space of one or many

years--no one can settle whether one or two or three or four or ten or

twenty--went about alternately working miracles and delivering moral

and religious sayings (including a doctrine of eternal hell-fire for

the unrepentant wicked, among whom were included all who refused

to accept the new teaching); and that after the execution of the

teacher on a charge of blasphemy or sedition the world found itself in

possession of a supernormal moral and religious code, which constituted

the greatest "moral reform" in the world's history. The very conception

is a chimera. In a world in which no one could independently think the

teacher's moral thoughts there could be no acceptance of them. If the

code was pronounced good, it was so pronounced in terms of the moral

nature and moral convictions of those who made the pronouncement. The

very propagandists of the creed after a few generations were found

meeting gainsayers with the formula anima naturaliter Christiana.

Christianity made its way precisely because (1) it was a construction

from current moral and religious material; and because (2) it

adopted a system of economic organization already tested by Jews

and Gentiles; and (3) because its doctrines were ascribed to a God,

not to a man. Anything like a moral renovation of the world it never

effected; that conception is a chimera of chimeras. While Mill, the

amateur in matters of religious research, who "scarcely ever read a

theological book," [10] ascribed to Christian morality a unique and

original quality, Newman, the essentially religious man, deliberately

affirmed with the Rationalists that "There is little in the ethics of

Christianity which the human mind may not reach by its natural powers,

and which here or there ... has not in fact been anticipated." [11]

And Baur, who gave his life and his whole powers to the problem

which Mill assumed to dispose of by a dithyramb, put in a sentence

the historic truth which Mill so completely failed to grasp:--

How soon would everything true and important that was taught by

Christianity have been relegated to the order of the long-faded

sayings of the noble humanitarians and thinking sages of antiquity,

had not its teachings become words of eternal life in the mouth

of its Founder! [12]

And a distinguished Scottish theologian and scholar has laid it

down that

there is probably not a single moral precept in the Christian

Scriptures which is not substantially also in the Chinese

classics. There is certainly not an important principle in Bishop

Butler's ethical teachings which had not been explicitly set

forth by Mencius in the fourth century B.C. The Chinese thinker

of that date had anticipated the entire moral theory of man's

constitution expounded so long afterwards by the most famous of

English moral philosophers. [13]

The Historical Jesus: A Survey of Positions · 第 2 / 20 章