Christian Fellow Citizens,--

We are living together in this world, but I do not know whether we

shall live together in the next world. You probably consider yourself

as booked for heaven, and me as booked for the other establishment. But

that is a question I will not discuss at present. I will only remark

that you may be mistaken. Existence, you know, is full of surprises;

and, as the French say, it is always the unexpected that happens.

Well, my fellow citizens of this world, it is now the time when you

celebrate the death and resurrection of your "Savior." Not being of your

faith, I cannot join in the commemoration. I shall, however, regard the

season after a more primitive fashion. Your Church adopted an old

Pagan festival, the rejoicing at the renewal of the earth in the genial

springtide. At the vernal equinox the sun is increasing in power, the

world is astir with new life, and begins to reassume its mantle

of green. Such a time inspired jollity in the human breast. It was

commemorated with feast and dance and song. Perhaps it will be so again,

even in sombre England, when the gloom of your ascetic creed has lifted

and disappeared. Meanwhile I, as a "heathen man and a sinner," will

imitate as far as I may the example of the Pagans of old. I will not

sing, for I am no adept in that line; and my joints are getting too

stiff for dancing. But I will feast, within the bounds of reason; I will

leave this million-peopled Babylon and put myself in touch with Mother

Nature; I will feel, if only for a brief while, the spring of the turf

under my feet; I will breathe air purified by "the moving waters at

their priest-like task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores";

I will watch the seahorses, with their white crests, in endless rank,

charging the shore; I will listen to the sound which Homer heard so long

before your Christ was born--the sound so monotonous, so melancholy, yet

so soothing and sustaining, which stirs a pulse of poetry in the very

dullest and most prosaic brain. But before I go I send you this Easter

egg, to show that I do not forget you. Keep it, I pray you; study well

its inscriptions; and perhaps, after all, you will not pelt me with it

at the finish.

I have said, my Christian fellow citizens, that your Church appropriated

an ancient Pagan festival--the festival of spring. I may be told

by scholars amongst you that the time of Christ's crucifixion and

resurrection was fixed by the Jewish Passover. I reply that the Passover

was itself a spring festival, whose original and natural meaning was

obscured by priestly arts and legendary stories. That it happened at

this time of the year, that it depended on astronomical signs, that

its commemoration included the sacrifice of the firstlings of the

flock--shows clearly enough that it was a Jewish counterpart of the

common Gentile celebration. Has it ever occurred to you that if Christ

died, he died on a particular day; and that if he rose from the dead, he

rose on a particular morning? That day, that morning, should have been

observed in the proper fashion of anniversaries. But it never was, and

it is not now. Good Friday--as you curiously, and almost facetiously

call the day on which the founder of your faith suffered a painful and

ignominious death--and Easter Sunday, when he left his sepulchre,

never fall on the same date in successive years. They are determined by

calculations of the position of the sun and the phases of the moon--a

planet sacred to lovers and lunatics, and naturally dear therefore to

devotion and superstition. You decorate your churches with evergreens

and flowers as the Pagans decorated their temples and altars. You use

Easter eggs like the pre-Christian religionists. You show, and your

creed shows, in everything that Easter is really a spring festival. The

year springs from the tomb of winter, and Christ springs at the same

time from the tomb of death.

I am disposed to regard your "Savior" as a purely mythical personage,

like all other Saviors and sun-gods of antiquity, who were generally,

if not always, born miraculously of virgin mothers, mysteriously

impregnated by celestial visitors; and whose careers, like that of your

Christ, were marked by portents and prodigies, ending in tribulation and

defeat, which were followed by vindication and triumph. Whether there

was a man called Jesus, or Joshua (the Jewish form of the name), who

lived and taught in Galilee and died at Jerusalem, is more than I will

undertake to determine, and it seems to me a question of microscopic

importance. But I am convinced that the Christ of the Gospels is the

product of religious imagination; an ideal figure, constructed out of

materials that were common in the East for hundreds and perhaps for

thousands of years.

To confine ourselves, however, to the Easter aspect of the matter, I

think you will find--if you read the Gospel story with unprejudiced

eyes--that the closing scenes of Christ's career are quite imaginary.

The story of his Trial and Crucifixion is utterly at variance with Roman

law and Jewish custom. It also includes astonishing incidents--such

as the earthquake which rent the veil of the temple, the three hours'

eclipse of the sun, and the wholesale resurrection of dead "saints"--of

which the Romans and the Jews were in a still more astonishing

ignorance. What must have startled the whole or the then known world,

if it happened, made absolutely no impression on the Hebrew and Gentile

nations, and not a trace of it remains in the pages of their historians.

Can you believe that the most remarkable occurrences on record escaped

the attention of all who were living at the time, with the exception

of a handful of men and women, who never took the trouble to write an

account of their experiences, but left them to be chronicled by unknown

writers long after they themselves were dead?

All the documentary evidence we possess is Christian. It is the witness

of an interested party, uncorroborated by a particle of testimony from

independent sources. I do not forget that the literature of your early

Church includes a letter from Pontius Pilate to the emperor Tiberius,

giving a detailed account of the trial, sentence, crucifixion, and

resurrection of Christ; but this is one of the many forgeries of

your early Church, and is now universally rejected as such alike by

Protestant and by Catholic scholars. To my mind, indeed, this forgery

itself proves the falsehood of the Gospel narrative; it shows that the

early Christians felt the necessity of some corroborative evidence,

and they manufactured it to give their own statements an air of greater

plausibility.

Taking the Gospels as they stand, I will ask you to read the story in

Matthew (not that I believe _he_ wrote it) of the watch at Christ's

sepulchre. The Jewish priests come to Pilate, and ask him to let the

sepulchre be sealed and guarded; for the dead impostor had declared he

would rise again on the third day, and his disciples might steal his

body and say he had risen. The guard is set, but an angel descends from

heaven, terrifies the soldiers, rolls away the stone, and allows Jesus

to escape. Whereupon the Jewish priests give the soldiers money to tell

Pilate that they slept at their posts.

How, I ask, did those Jewish priests know that Jesus had said "After

three days I will rise again"? According to John (xx. 9), his very

disciples were ignorant of this fact--"For as yet they knew not the

scripture, that he must rise again from the dead." Could it be unknown

to his intimates, who had been with him day and night for three years,

in all parts of Palestine; yet well known to the priests, who had only

seen him occasionally during a few days at Jerusalem?

There was an "earthquake" before the angels descended. Would not

this have attracted general attention? And is it conceivable that the

soldiers would take money to say they had slept at their posts? The

punishment for that offence was death. Of what use then was the bribe?

Do men sell their honor for what they can never enjoy, and count their

lives as a mere trifle in the bargain? Is it conceivable that the

priests were so foolish as the story depicts them? Would bribing the

soldiers protect them against Christ? If he had risen he was lord of

life and death. Would they not have abandoned their projects against

him, and sought his forgiveness? He who had the power to revive himself

had the power to destroy them.

The appearances of Jesus, after his resurrection, are grotesque in

their self-contradiction. Now he is a pure ghost, suddenly appearing and

suddenly vanishing, and entering a room with shut doors. Then he appears

as solid flesh and blood, to be felt and handled. He even eats broiled

fish and honeycomb.

Such conditions are quite irreconcilable. We may imagine a ghost going

through a keyhole, but is it possible to imagine broiled fish and

honeycomb going through the same aperture? Or is the stomach of a ghost

capable of digesting such victuals?

Has it never struck you as strange, also, that the risen Christ never

appeared to anyone but his disciples? No outsider, no independent

witness, ever caught a glimpse of him. The story is a party report to

prove a party position and maintain a party's interests. Surely, if

Christ died for _all men_, if his resurrection is the pledge of ours,

and if our inability to believe it involves our perdition, _the fact_

should have been established beyond all cavil. Christ should have

stood before Pilate who sentenced him to be crucified; he should have

confronted the Sanhedrim who compassed his death; he might even have

walked about freely amongst the Jews during the forty days (more or

less) during which, as the New Testament narrates, he flitted about

like a hedge-row ghost. He should have made his resurrection as clear as

daylight, and he left it as dark as night.

To ask what became of the body of Jesus if he did not rise, is an idle

question. There is not the slightest _contemporary_ evidence that his

body was an object of concern. On the other hand, however, the story of

the Ascension looks like a convenient refuge. To talk of a risen Christ

was to invite the question "Where is he?" The story of the Ascension

enabled the talkers to answer "He is gone up." It relieved them from the

awkward necessity of producing him.

Space does not allow of my discussing this subject more extensively. I

could swell this Easter egg into gigantic proportions, but I must leave

it as it is It goes to you with my compliments, and a hope that it will

do you good. If it leads any of you to "take a thought and mend," if it

induces one of you to review the faith of his childhood, if it stirs a

rational impulse in a single Christian mind, I shall be amply rewarded

for my trouble.--Christian fellow citizens, Adieu!--I remain, Yours for

Reason and Humanity.

Flowers of Freethought (Second Series) · 第 43 / 63 题