CHAPTER V.

THE DISCIPLES OF JESUS.

§ 70.

CALLING OF THE FIRST COMPANIONS OF JESUS. DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE FIRST

TWO EVANGELISTS AND THE FOURTH.

The first two Evangelists agree in stating that Jesus, when walking by

the sea of Galilee, called, first, the two brothers Andrew and Peter,

and immediately after, James and John, to forsake their fishing nets,

and to follow him (Matt. iv. 18–22; Mark i. 16–20). The fourth

Evangelist also narrates (i. 35–51), how the first disciples came to

attach themselves to Jesus, and among them we find Peter and Andrew,

and, in all probability, John, for it is generally agreed that the

nameless companion of Andrew was that ultimately favourite apostle.

James is absent from this account, and instead of his vocation, we have

that of Philip and Nathanael. But even when the persons are the same,

all the particulars of their meeting with Jesus are variously detailed.

In the two synoptical gospels, the scene is the coast of the Galilean

sea: in the fourth, Andrew, Peter, and their anonymous friend, unite

themselves to Jesus in the vicinity of the Jordan; Philip and

Nathanael, on the way from thence into Galilee. In the former, again,

Jesus in two instances calls a pair of brothers; in the latter, it is

first Andrew and his companion, then Peter, and anon Philip and

Nathanael, who meet with Jesus. But the most important difference is

this: while, in Matthew and Mark, the brethren are called from their

fishing immediately by Jesus; in John, nothing more is said of the

respective situations of those who were summoned, than that they come,

and are found, and Jesus himself calls only Philip; Andrew and his

nameless companion being directed to him by the Baptist, Peter brought

by Andrew, and Nathanael by Philip.

Thus the two narratives appear to refer to separate events; and if it

be asked which of those events was prior to the other, we must reply

that John seems to assign the earlier date to his incidents, for he

represents them as taking place before the return of Jesus from the

scene of his baptism into Galilee; while the synoptists place theirs

after that journey, especially if, according to a calculation often

adopted, we regard the return into Galilee, which they make so

important an epoch, as being that from the first Passover, not from the

baptism. It is evident, too, from the intrinsic nature of the

occurrences reported by the fourth Evangelist, that they could not have

succeeded those in Matthew and Mark. For if, as these writers tells us,

Andrew and John had already followed Jesus, they could not again be in

the train of the Baptist, as we see them in the fourth gospel, nor

would it have been necessary for that teacher to have directed their

attention to Jesus; neither if Peter had already been called by Jesus

himself to become a fisher of men, was there any need for his brother

Andrew to bring him to his already elected master. Nevertheless,

expositors with one voice declare that the two narratives are equally

adapted to precede, or follow, each other. The fourth gospel, say they,

[836] recounts merely the first introduction of these men to Jesus;

they did not forthwith become his constant followers, but were first

installed by Jesus in their proper discipleship on the occasion which

the synoptists have preserved.

Let us test the justness of their view. In the synoptical narrative

Jesus says to his future disciples, Come after me, δεῦτε ὀπίσω μου, and

the result is that they follow him (ἠκολούθησαν αὐτῷ). If we understand

from this that the disciples thenceforth constantly followed Jesus, how

can we give a different interpretation to the similar expression in the

fourth gospel, Follow me, ἀκολούθει μοι? It is therefore a laudable

consistency in Paulus, to see, in both instances, merely an invitation

to a temporary companionship during a walk in the immediate

neighbourhood. [837] But this interpretation is incompatible with the

synoptical history. How could Peter, at a later period, say so

emphatically to Jesus, We have left all, and followed thee: what shall

we have therefore?—how could Jesus promise to him and to every one who

had forsaken houses, etc., a hundredfold recompense (Matt. xix. 27

ff.), if this forsaking and following had been so transient and

interrupted? From these considerations alone it is probable that the

ἀκολούθει μοι in John also denotes the commencement of a permanent

connexion; but there are besides the plainest indications that this is

the case in the context to the narrative. Precisely as in the

synoptical gospels, Jesus appears alone before the scene of the

vocation, but after this on every fit occasion the attendance of his

disciples is mentioned: so in the fourth gospel, from the time of the

occurrence in question, the previously solitary Jesus appears in the

company of his disciples (ii. 2, xii. 17, iii. 22, iv. 8, 27, etc.). To

say that these disciples, acquired in Peræa, again dispersed themselves

after the return of Jesus into Galilee, [838] is to do violence to the

gospels out of harmonistic zeal. But even supposing such a dispersion,

they could not, in the short time which it is possible to allow for

their separation from Jesus, have become so completely strangers to

him, that he would have been obliged to re-open an acquaintance with

them after the manner narrated by the synoptical writers. Still less

probable is it that Jesus, after having distinguished Simon in the most

individual manner by the surname Cephas on their first interview, would

on a later occasion address to him the summons to be a fisher of men—a

destination which was common to all the disciples.

The rationalistic commentators perceive a special advantage in their

position of the two narratives. It accounts, say they, for what must

otherwise be in the highest degree surprising, namely, that Jesus

merely in passing, and at the first glance, should choose four

fishermen for his disciples, and that among them he should have

alighted on the two most distinguished apostles; that, moreover, these

four men, actively employed in their business, should leave it on the

instant of their receiving an enigmatical summons from a man with whom

they had no intimate acquaintance, and devote themselves to him as his

followers. Now on comparing the fourth gospel, we see that Jesus had

learned to know these men long before, and that they, too, had had

demonstration of his excellence, whence it is easy to understand the

felicity of his choice, and their readiness to follow him. But this

apparent advantage is the condemning circumstance in the above

position: for nothing can more directly counteract the intention of the

first two Evangelists, than to suppose a previous acquaintance between

Jesus and the brethren whom he summons to follow him. In both Gospels,

great stress is laid on the fact that they immediately εὐθέως left

their nets, resolved to follow Jesus: the writers must therefore have

deemed this something extraordinary, which it certainly was not, if

these men had previously been in his train. In relation to Jesus also,

the point of the narrative lies in his having, with a prophetic spirit,

and at the first glance, selected the right individuals, not needing

that any should testify of man, for he knew what was in man, according

to John ii. 25, and thus presenting one of the characteristics which

the Jews expected in their Messiah.

If, then, each of these two diverse narratives professes to describe

the first acquaintance of Jesus with his most distinguished disciples,

it follows that one only can be correct, while the other is necessarily

erroneous. [839] It is our task to inquire which has the more intrinsic

proofs of veracity. With respect to the synoptical representation, we

share the difficulty which is felt by Paulus, in regarding it as a true

account of the first interview between the parties. A penetration into

the character of men at the first glance, such as is here supposed to

have been evinced by Jesus, transcends all that is naturally possible

to the most fortunate and practised knowledge of mankind. The nature of

man is only revealed by his words and actions; the gift of discerning

it without these means, belongs to the visionary, or to that species of

intuition for which the rabbinical designation of this messianic

attribute, odorando judicare, [840] is not at all too monstrous.

Scarcely less improbable is the unhesitating obedience of the

disciples, for Jesus had not yet acquired his Galilean fame; and to

account for this promptitude we must suppose that the voice and will of

Jesus had a coercive influence over minds, independently of preparation

and motives, [841] which would be to complete the incredibility of the

narrative by adding a magical trait to the visionary one already

exposed.

If these negative arguments are deemed strong enough to annul the

pretensions of the narrative to an historical character, the

alternative is to assign to it a mythical interpretation, if we can

show on positive grounds that it might have been constructed in a

traditional manner without historical foundation. As adequate

inducements to the formation of such a legend, we may point, not only

to the above cited Jewish notion of the Messiah as the searcher of

hearts, but to a specific type of this vocation of the apostles,

contained in the narrative (1 Kings xix. 19–21) of the mode in which

the prophet Elijah summoned Elisha to become his follower. Here Jesus

calls the brethren from their nets and their fishing; there the prophet

calls his future disciple from the oxen and the plough; in both cases

there is a transition from simple physical labour to the highest

spiritual office—a contrast which, as is exemplified in the Roman

history, tradition is apt either to cherish or to create. Further, the

fishermen, at the call of Jesus, forsake their nets and follow him; so

Elisha, when Elijah cast his mantle over him, left the oxen, and ran

after Elijah. This is one apparent divergency, which is a yet more

striking proof of the relation between the two narratives, than is

their general similarity. The prophet’s disciple entreated that before

he attached himself entirely to Elijah, he might be permitted to take

leave of his father and mother; and the prophet does not hesitate to

grant him this request, on the understood condition that Elisha should

return to him. Similar petitions are offered to Jesus (Luke ix. 59 ff.;

Matt. viii. 21 f.) by some whom he had called, or who had volunteered

to follow him; but Jesus does not accede to these requests: on the

contrary, he enjoins the one who wished previously to bury his father,

to enter on his discipleship without delay; and the other, who had

begged permission to bid farewell to his friends, he at once dismisses

as unfit for the kingdom of God. In strong contrast with the divided

spirit manifested by these feeble proselytes, it is said of the

apostles, that they, without asking any delay, immediately forsook

their occupation, and, in the case of James and John, their father.

Could anything betray more clearly than this one feature, that the

narrative is an embellished imitation of that in the Old Testament

intended to show that Jesus, in his character of Messiah, exacted a

more decided adhesion, accompanied with greater sacrifices, than

Elijah, in his character of Prophet merely, required or was authorized

to require? [842] The historical germ of the narrative may be this:

several of the most eminent disciples of Jesus, particularly Peter,

dwelling on the shores of the sea of Galilee, had been fishermen,

whence Jesus during their subsequent apostolic agency may have

sometimes styled them fishers of men. But without doubt, their relation

with Jesus was formed gradually, like other human relations, and is

only elevated into a marvel through the obliviousness of tradition.

By removing the synoptical narrative we make room for that of John; but

whether we are to receive it as historical, can only be decided by an

examination of its matter. At the very outset, it excites no favourable

prejudice, that John the Baptist is the one who directs the first two

disciples to Jesus; for if there be any truth in the representation

given in a former chapter of the relation between Jesus and the

Baptist, some disciples of the latter might, indeed, of their own

accord attach themselves to Jesus, formerly their fellow-disciple, but

nothing could be farther from the intention of the Baptist than to

resign his own adherents to Jesus. This particular seems indebted for

its existence to the apologetic interest of the fourth gospel, which

seeks to strengthen the cause of Jesus by the testimony of the Baptist.

Further, that Andrew, after one evening’s intercourse with Jesus,

should announce him to his brother with the words, We have found the

Messiah (i. 42); that Philip too, immediately after his call, should

speak of him in a similar manner to Nathanael (v. 46); is an

improbability which I know not how to put strongly enough. We gather

from the synoptical statement, which we have above decided to be

trustworthy, that some time was necessary for the disciples to

recognise Jesus as the Messiah, and openly confess their belief through

their spokesman Peter, whose tardy discernment Jesus would have been

incorrect in panegyrizing as a divine revelation, if it amounted to no

more than what was communicated to him by his brother Andrew at the

commencement of his discipleship. Equally unnatural is the manner in

which Jesus is said to have received Simon. He accosts him with the

words, Thou art Simon, the son of Jona,—a mode of salutation which

seems, as Bengel has well remarked, [843] to imply that Jesus had a

supernatural acquaintance with the name and origin of a man previously

unknown to him, analogous to his cognizance of the number of the

Samaritan woman’s husbands, and of Nathanael’s presence under the

fig-tree. Jesus then proceeds to bestow on Simon the significant

surname of Cephas or Peter. If we are not inclined to degrade the

speech of Jesus into buffoonery, by referring this appellation to the

bodily organization of the disciple, [844] we must suppose that Jesus

at the first glance, with the eye of him who knew hearts, penetrated

into the inmost nature of Simon, and discovered not only his general

fitness for the apostleship, but also the special, individual qualities

which rendered him comparable to a rock. According to Matthew, it was

not until after long intercourse with Jesus, and after he had given

many manifestations of his peculiar character, that this surname was

conferred on Simon, accompanied by an explanation of its meaning (xvi.

18): evidently a much more natural account of the matter than that of

the fourth Evangelist, who makes Jesus discern at the first glance the

future value of Simon to his cause, an odorando judicare which

transcends the synoptical representation in the same ratio as the

declaration, Thou shalt be called Cephas, presupposes a more intimate

knowledge, than the proposal, I will make you fishers of men. Even

after a more lengthened conversation with Peter, such as Lücke

supposes, [845] Jesus could not pronounce so decidedly on his

character, without being a searcher of hearts, or falling under the

imputation of forming too precipitate a judgment. It is indeed possible

that the Christian legend, attracted by the significance of the name,

may have represented Jesus as its author, while, in fact, Simon had

borne it from his birth.

The entire narrative concerning Nathanael is a tissue of

improbabilities. When Philip speaks to him of a Messiah from Nazareth,

he makes the celebrated answer, Can any good thing come out of Nazareth

(v. 47)? There is no historical datum for supposing that Nazareth, when

Jesus began his ministry, was the object of particular odium or

contempt, [846] and there is every probability that the adversaries of

Christianity were the first to cast an aspersion on the native city of

the Messiah whom they rejected. In the time of Jesus, Nazareth was only

depreciated by the Jews, as being a Galilean city—a stigma which it

bore in common with many others: but in this sense it could not be

despised by Nathanael, for he was himself a Galilean (xxi. 2). The only

probable explanation is that a derisive question, which, at the time of

the composition of the fourth gospel, the Christians had often to hear

from their opponents, was put into the mouth of a cotemporary of Jesus,

that by the manner in which he was divested of his doubt, others might

be induced to comply with the invitation, to come and see. As Nathanael

approaches Jesus, the latter pronounces this judgment on his character,

Behold an Israelite indeed in whom is no guile (v. 48)! Paulus is of

opinion that Jesus might have previously gathered some intimations

concerning Nathanael at Cana, where he had just been attending a

marriage of some relations. [847] But if Jesus had become acquainted

with Nathanael’s character in a natural way, he must, in answer to the

question Whence knowest thou me? either have reminded him of the

occasion on which they had had an earlier interview, or referred to the

favourable report of others. Instead of this he speaks of his knowledge

that Nathanael had been tarrying under a fig-tree: a knowledge which

from its result is evidently intended to appear supernatural. Now to

use information, obtained by ordinary means, so as to induce a belief

that it has been communicated supernaturally, is charlatanism, if

anything deserve the name. As, however, the narrator certainly did not

mean to impute such artifice to Jesus, it is undeniably his intention

to ascribe to him a supernatural knowledge of Nathanael’s character. As

little are the words, When thou wast under the fig-tree, I saw thee,

explained by the exclamation of Paulus, “How often one sees and

observes a man who is unconscious of one’s gaze!” Lücke and Tholuck are

also of opinion, that Jesus observed Nathanael under the fig-tree in a

natural manner; they add, however, the conjecture, that the latter was

engaged in some occupation, such as prayer or the study of the law,

which afforded Jesus a key to his character. But if Jesus meant to

imply, “How can I fail to be convinced of thy virtue, having watched

thee during thy earnest study of the law, and thy fervent prayer under

the fig-tree?” he would not have omitted the word προσευχόμενον

(praying), or ἀναγινώσκοντα (reading), for want of which we can extract

no other sense from his declaration than this: “Thou mayest be assured

of my power to penetrate into thy inmost soul, from the fact that I

beheld thee when thou wast in a situation from which all merely human

observers were excluded.” Here the whole stress is thrown not on any

peculiarity in the situation of the person seen, but on the fact that

Jesus saw him, whence it is necessarily inferred that he did so by no

ordinary, natural means. To imagine that Jesus possessed such a second

sight, is, we grant, not a little extravagant; but for that very

reason, it is the more accordant with the then existing notions of a

prophet, and of the Messiah. A like power of seeing and hearing beyond

the limits assigned to human organs, is attributed to Elisha in the Old

Testament. When (2 Kings vi. 8, ff.) the king of Syria makes war

against Israel, Elisha indicates to the king of Israel every position

of the enemy’s camp; and when the king of Syria expresses his suspicion

that he is betrayed by deserters, he is told that the Israelitish

prophet knows all the words that he, the king of Syria, speaks in his

private chamber. Thus also (xxi. 32), Elisha knows that Joram has sent

out messengers to murder him. How could it be endured that the Messiah

should fall short of the prophet in his powers of vision? This

particular, too, enables our Evangelist to form a climax, in which

Jesus ascends from the penetration of one immediately present (v. 42),

to that of one approaching for the first time (v. 48), and finally, to

the perception of one out of the reach of human eyesight. That Jesus

goes a step farther in the climax, and says, that this proof of his

messianic second sight is a trifle compared with what Nathanael has yet

to see,—that on him, the Son of man, the angels of God shall descend

from the opened heavens (v. 51),—in nowise shows, as Paulus thinks,

that there was nothing miraculous in that first proof, for there is a

gradation even in miracles.

Thus in the narrative of John we stumble at every step on difficulties,

in some instances greater than those with which the synoptical accounts

are encumbered: hence we learn as little from the one as the other,

concerning the manner in which the first disciples attached themselves

to Jesus. I cannot agree with the author of the Probabilia, [848] in

deriving the divergency of the fourth Evangelist from his predecessors,

from the wish to avoid mentioning the derided fishing trade of the most

distinguished apostles; since in chap. xxi., which Bretschneider allows

to be by the same hand as the rest of the gospel, he unhesitatingly

introduces the obnoxious employment. I rather surmise that the idea of

their having received their decisive apostolic call while actually

engaged with their fishing-nets, was not afloat in the tradition from

which the fourth Evangelist drew; and that this writer formed his

scenes, partly on the probably historical report that some disciples of

Jesus had belonged to the school of the Baptist, and partly from the

wish to represent in the most favourable light the relation between

Jesus and the Baptist, and the supernatural gifts of the former.

§ 71.

PETER’S DRAUGHT OF FISHES.

We have hitherto examined only two accounts of the vocation of Peter

and his companions; there is a third given by Luke (v. 1–11). I shall

not dilate on the minor points of difference [849] between his

narrative and that of the first two Evangelists; the essential

distinction is, that in Luke the disciples do not, as in Matthew and

Mark, unite themselves to Jesus on a simple invitation, but in

consequence of a plentiful draught of fishes, to which Jesus has

assisted Simon. If this feature be allowed to constitute Luke’s

narrative a separate one from that of his predecessors, we have next to

inquire into its intrinsic credibility, and then to ascertain its

relation to that of Matthew and Mark.

Jesus, oppressed by the throng of people on the shore of the Galilean

sea, enters into a ship, that he may address them with more ease at a

little distance from land. Having brought his discourse to a close, he

desires Simon, the owner of the boat, to launch out into the deep, and

let down his nets for a draught. Simon, although little encouraged by

the poor result of the last night’s fishing, declares himself willing,

and is rewarded by so extraordinary a draught, that Peter and his

partners, James and John (Andrew is not here mentioned), are struck

with astonishment, the former even with awe, before Jesus, as a

superior being. Jesus then says to Simon, Fear not; from henceforth

thou shalt catch men, and the issue is that the three fishermen forsake

all, and follow him.

The rationalistic commentators take pains to show that what is above

narrated might occur in a natural way. According to them, the

astonishing consequence of letting down the net was the result of an

accurate observation on the part of Jesus, assisted by a happy

fortuity. Paulus [850] supposes that Jesus at first wished to launch

out farther into the deep merely to escape from the crowd, and that it

was not until after sailing to some distance, that, descrying a place

where the fish were abundant, he desired Peter to let down the net. But

he has fallen into a twofold contradiction of the evangelical

narrative. In close connexion with the command to launch out into the

deep, Jesus adds, Let down your nets for a draught (ἐπανάγαγε εἰς τὸ

βάθος, καὶ χαλάσατε τὰ δίκτυα, κ.τ.λ.), as if this were one of his

objects in changing the locality; and if he spoke thus when at a little

distance only from the shore, his hope of a successful draught could

not be the effect of his having observed a place abundant in fish on

the main sea, which the vessel had not yet reached. Our rationalists

must therefore take refuge in the opinion of the author of the Natural

History of the Great Prophet of Nazareth, who says, Jesus conjectured

on general grounds, that under existing circumstances (indicative

probably of an approaching storm), fishing in the middle of the sea

would succeed better than it had done in the night. But, proceeding

from the natural point of view, how could Jesus be a better judge in

this matter than the men who had spent half their life on the sea in

the employment of fishing? Certainly if the fishermen observed nothing

which could give them hope of a plentiful draught, neither in a natural

manner could Jesus; and the agreement between his words and the result,

must, adhering to the natural point of view, be put down wholly to the

account of chance. But what senseless audacity, to promise at random a

success, which, judging from the occurrences of the past night, was

little likely to follow! It is said, however, that Jesus only desires

Peter to make another attempt, without giving any definite promise.

But, we must rejoin, in the emphatic injunction, which Peter’s remark

on the inauspicious aspect of circumstances for fishing does not induce

him to revoke, there is a latent promise, and the words, Let down your

nets, etc., in the present passage, can hardly have any other meaning

than that plainly expressed in the similar scene, John xxi. 6, Cast the

net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. When, moreover,

Peter retracts his objection in the words, Nevertheless at thy word I

will let down the net, ἐπὶ δὲ τῷ ῥήματί σου χαλάσω τὸ δίκτυον, though

ῥῆμα may be translated by command rather than by promise, in either

case he implies a hope that what Jesus enjoins will not be without

result. If Jesus had not intended to excite this hope, he must

immediately have put an end to it, if he would not expose himself to

disgrace in the event of failure; and on no account ought he to have

accepted the attitude and expressions of Peter as his due, if he had

only merited them by a piece of lucky advice given at a venture.

The drift of the narrative, then, obliges us to admit that the writer

intended to signalize a miracle. This miracle may be viewed either as

one of power, or of knowledge. If the former, we are to conceive that

Jesus by his supernatural power, caused the fish to congregate in that

part of the sea where he commanded Peter to cast in his net. Now that

Jesus should be able, by the immediate action of his will, to influence

men, in the nature of whose minds his spiritual energy might find a

fulcrum, may to a certain extent be conceived, without any wide

deviation from psychological laws; but that he could thus influence

irrational beings, and those not isolated animals immediately present

to him, but shoals of fish in the depths of the sea, it is impossible

to imagine out of the domain of magic. Olshausen compares this

operation of Jesus to that of the divine omnipotence in the annual

migrations of fish and birds; [851] but the comparison is worse than

lame,—it lacks all parallelism; for the latter is an effect of the

divine agency, linked in the closest manner with all the other

operations of God in external nature, with the change of seasons, etc.;

while the former, even presupposing Jesus to be actually God, would be

an isolated act, interrupting the chain of natural phenomena; a

distinction that removes any semblance of parallelism between the two

cases. Allowing the possibility of such a miracle (and from the

supranaturalistic point of view, nothing is in itself impossible), did

it subserve any apparent object, adequate to determine Jesus to so

extravagant a use of his miraculous powers? Was it so important that

Peter should be inspired by this incident with a superstitious fear,

not accordant with the spirit of the New Testament? Was this the only

preparation for engrafting the true faith? or did Jesus believe that it

was only by such signs that he could win disciples? How little faith

must he then have had in the force of mind and of truth! how much too

meanly must he have estimated Peter, who, at a later period at least

(John vi. 68), clung to his society, not on account of the miracles

which he beheld Jesus perform, but for the sake of the words of eternal

life which came from his lips!

Under the pressure of these difficulties, refuge may be sought in the

other supposition as the more facile one; namely, that Jesus, by means

of his superhuman knowledge, was merely aware that in a certain place

there was then to be found a multitude of fishes, and that he

communicated this information to Peter. If by this it be meant that

Jesus, through the possession of an omniscience such as is commonly

attributed to God, knew at all times, all the fish, in all seas, rivers

and lakes; there is an end to his human consciousness. If, however, it

be merely meant that when he crossed any water he became cognizant of

its various tribes of fish, with their relative position; even this

would be quite enough to encumber the space in his mind that was due to

more weighty thoughts. Lastly, if it be meant that he knew this, not

constantly and necessarily, but as often as he wished; it is impossible

to understand how, in a mind like that of Jesus, a desire for such

knowledge should arise,—how he, whose vocation had reference to the

depths of the human heart, should be tempted to occupy himself with the

fish-frequented depths of the waters.

But before we pronounce on this narrative of Luke, we must consider it

in relation to the cognate histories in the first two synoptical

gospels. The chronological relation of the respective events is the

first point. The supposition that the miraculous draught of fishes in

Luke was prior to the vocation narrated by the two other Evangelists,

is excluded by the consideration, that the firm attachment which that

miracle awakened in the disciples, would render a new call superfluous;

or by the still stronger objection, that if an invitation, accompanied

by a miracle, had not sufficed to ally the men to Jesus, he could

hardly flatter himself that a subsequent bare summons, unsupported by

any miracle, would have a better issue. The contrary chronological

position presents a better climax; but why a second invitation, if the

first had succeeded? For to suppose that the brethren who followed him

on the first summons, again left him until the second, is to cut the

knot, instead of untying it. Still more complicated is the difficulty,

when we take in addition the narrative of the fourth Evangelist: for

what shall we think of the connexion between Jesus and his disciples,

if it began in the manner described by John; if, after this, the

disciples having from some unknown cause separated from their master,

he again called them, as if nothing of the kind had before occurred, on

the shore of the Galilean sea; and if, this invitation also producing

no permanent adherence, he for the third time summoned them to follow

him, fortifying this final experiment by a miracle? The entire drift of

Luke’s narrative is such as to exclude, rather than to imply, any

earlier and more intimate relation between Jesus and his ultimate

disciples. For the indifferent mention of two ships on the shore, whose

owners were gone out of them to wash their nets, Simon being unnamed

until Jesus chooses to avail himself of his boat, seems, as

Schleiermacher has convincingly shown, [852] to convey the idea that

the two parties were entire strangers to each other, and that these

incidents were preparatory to a relation yet to be formed, not

indicative of one already existing: so that the healing of Peter’s

mother-in-law, previously recounted by Luke, either occurred, like many

other cures of Jesus, without producing any intimate connexion, or has

too early a date assigned to it by that Evangelist. The latter

conjecture is supported by the fact that Matthew places the miracle

later.

Thus, it fares with the narrative of Luke, when viewed in relation to

that of Matthew and Mark, as it did with that of John, when placed in

the same light; neither will bear the other to precede, or to follow

it,—in short, they exclude each other. [853] Which then is the correct

narrative? Schleiermacher prefers that of the Evangelist on whom he has

commented, because it is more particular [854]; and Sieffert [855] has

recently asserted with great emphasis, that no one has ever yet doubted

the superiority of Luke’s narrative, as a faithful picture of the

entire occurrence, the number of its special, dramatic, and

intrinsically authenticated details, advantageously distinguishing it

from the account in the first (and second) gospel, which by its

omission of the critical incident, the turning point in the narrative

(the draught of fishes), is characterized as the recital of one who was

not an eye-witness. I have already presented myself elsewhere [856] to

this critic, as one hardy enough to express the doubt of which he

denies the existence, and I here repeat the question: supposing one

only of the two narratives to have been modified by oral tradition,

which alternative is more in accordance with the nature of that means

of transmission,—that the tangible fact of a draught of fishes should

evaporate into a mere saying respecting fishers of men, or that this

figurative expression should be condensed into a literal history? The

answer to this question cannot be dubious; for when was it in the

nature of the legend to spiritualize? to change the real, such as the

story of a miracle, into the ideal, such as a mere verbal image? The

stage of human culture to which the legend belongs, and the mental

faculty in which it originates, demand that it should give a stable

body to fleeting thought, that it should counteract the ambiguity and

changeableness of words, by affixing them to the permanent and

universally understood symbol of action.

It is easy to show how, out of the expression preserved by the first

Evangelist, the miraculous story of the third might be formed. If

Jesus, in allusion to the former occupation of some of his apostles,

had called them fishers of men; if he had compared the kingdom of

heaven to a net cast into the sea, in which all kinds of fish were

taken (Matt. xiii. 47); it was but a following out of these ideas to

represent the apostles as those who, at the word of Jesus, cast out the

net, and gathered in the miraculous multitude of fishes. [857] If we

add to this, that the ancient legend was fond of occupying its

wonder-workers with affairs of fishing, as we see in the story related

of Pythagoras by Jamblichus and Porphyry; [858] it will no longer

appear improbable, that Peter’s miraculous draught of fishes is but the

expression about the fishers of men, transmuted into the history of a

miracle, and this view will at once set us free from all the

difficulties that attend the natural, as well as the supranatural

interpretation of the narrative.

A similar miraculous draught of fishes is recorded in the appendix to

the fourth gospel, as having occurred after the resurrection (ch.

xxi.). Here again Peter is fishing on the Galilean sea, in company with

the sons of Zebedee and some other disciples, and again he has been

toiling all night, and has taken nothing. [859] Early in the morning,

Jesus comes to the shore, and asks, without their recognising him, if

they have any meat? On their answering in the negative, he directs them

to cast the net on the right side of the ship, whereupon they have an

extremely rich draught, and are led by this sign to recognise Jesus.

That this history is distinct from the one given by Luke, is, from its

great similarity, scarcely conceivable; the same narrative has

doubtless been placed by tradition in different periods of the life of

Jesus. [860]

Let us now compare these three fishing histories,—the two narrated of

Jesus, and that narrated of Pythagoras,—and their mythical character

will be obvious. That which, in Luke, is indubitably intended as a

miracle of power, is, in the history of Jamblichus, a miracle of

knowledge; for Pythagoras merely tells in a supernatural manner the

number of fish already caught by natural means. The narrative of John

holds a middle place, for in it also the number of the fish (153) plays

a part; but instead of being predetermined by the worker of the

miracle, it is simply stated by the narrator. One legendary feature

common to all the three narratives, is the manner in which the

multitude and weight of the fishes are described; especially as this

sameness of manner accompanies a diversity in particulars. According to

Luke, the multitude is so great that the net is broken, one ship will

not hold them, and after they have been divided between the two

vessels, both threaten to sink. In the view of the tradition given in

the fourth gospel, it was not calculated to magnify the power of the

miraculous agent, that the net which he had so marvellously filled

should break; but as here also the aim is to exalt the miracle by

celebrating the number and weight of the fishes, they are said to be

μεγάλοι (great), and it is added that the men were not able to draw the

net for the multitude of fishes: instead, however, of lapsing out of

the miraculous into the common by the breaking of the net, a second

miracle is ingeniously made,—that for all there were so many, yet was

not the net broken. Jamblichus presents a further wonder (the only one

he has, besides the knowledge of Pythagoras as to the number of the

fish): namely, that while the fish were being counted, a process that

must have required a considerable time, not one of them died. If there

be a mind that, not perceiving in the narratives we have compared the

finger-marks of tradition, and hence the legendary character of these

evangelical anecdotes, still leans to the historical interpretation,

whether natural or supernatural; that mind must be alike ignorant of

the true character both of legend and of history, of the natural and

the supernatural.

§ 72.

CALLING OF MATTHEW. CONNEXION OF JESUS WITH THE PUBLICANS.

The first gospel (ix. 9 ff.) tells of a man named Matthew, to whom,

when sitting at the receipt of custom, Jesus said, Follow me. Instead

of Matthew, the second and third gospels have Levi, and Mark adds he

that was the son of Alphæus (Mark ii. 14 ff.; Luke v. 27 ff.). At the

call of Jesus, Luke says that he left all; Matthew merely states, that

he followed Jesus and prepared a meal, of which many publicans and

sinners partook, to the great scandal of the Pharisees.

From the difference of the names it has been conjectured that the

Evangelists refer to two different events; [861] but this difference of

the name is more than counterbalanced by the similarity of the

circumstances. In all the three cases the call of the publican is

preceded and followed by the same occurrences; the subject of the

narrative is in the same situation; Jesus addresses him in the same

words; and the issue is the same. [862] Hence the opinion is pretty

general, that the three synoptists have in this instance detailed only

one event. But did they also understand only one person under different

names, and was that person the Apostle Matthew?

This is commonly represented as conceivable on the supposition that

Levi was the proper name of the individual, and Matthew merely a

surname; [863] or that after he had attached himself to Jesus, he

exchanged the former for the latter. [864] To substantiate such an

opinion, there should be some indication that the Evangelists who name

the chosen publican Levi, intend under that designation no other than

the Matthew mentioned in their catalogues of the apostles (Mark iii.

18; Luke vi. 15; Acts i. 13). On the contrary, in these catalogues,

where many surnames and double names occur, not only do they omit the

name of Levi as the earlier or more proper appellation of Matthew, but

they leave him undistinguished by the epithet, ὁ τελώνης (the

publican), added by the first Evangelist in his catalogue (x. 3); thus

proving that they do not consider the Apostle Matthew to be identical

with the Levi summoned from the receipt of custom. [865]

If then the Evangelists describe the vocation of two different men in a

precisely similar way, it is improbable that there is accuracy on both

sides, since an event could hardly be repeated in its minute

particulars. One of the narratives, therefore, is in error; and the

burthen has been thrown on the first Evangelist, because he places the

calling of Matthew considerably after the Sermon on the Mount; while

according to Luke (vi. 13 ff.), all the twelve had been chosen before

that discourse was delivered. [866] But this would only prove, at the

most, that the first gospel gives a wrong position to the history; not

that it narrates that history incorrectly. It is therefore unjust to

impute special difficulties to the narrative of the first Evangelist:

neither are such to be found in that of Mark and Luke, unless it be

thought an inconsistency in the latter to attribute a forsaking of all,

καταλιπὼν ἅπαντα, to one whom he does not include among the constant

followers of Jesus. [867] The only question is, do they not labour

under a common difficulty, sufficient to stamp both accounts as

unhistorical?

The close analogy between this call and that of the two pairs of

brethren, must excite attention. They were summoned from their nets; he

from the custom-house; as in their case, so here, nothing further is

needed than a simple Follow me; and this call of the Messiah has so

irresistible a power over the mind of the called, that the publican,

like the fishermen, leaves all, and follows him. It is not to be

denied, that as Jesus had been for a considerable time exercising his

ministry in that country, Matthew must have long known him; and this is

the argument with which Fritzsche repels the accusation of Julian and

Porphyry, who maintain that Matthew here shows himself rash and

inconsiderate. But the longer Jesus had observed him, the more easily

might he have found opportunity for drawing him gradually and quietly

into his train, instead of hurrying him in so tumultuary a manner from

the midst of his business. Paulus indeed thinks that no call to

discipleship, no sudden forsaking of a previous occupation, is here

intended, but that Jesus having brought his teaching to a close, merely

signified to the friend who had given him an invitation to dinner, that

he was now ready to go home with him, and sit down to table. [868] But

the meal appears, especially in Luke, to be the consequence, and not

the cause, of the summons; moreover, a modest guest would say to the

host who had invited him, I will follow thee, ἀκολουθήσω σοι, not

Follow me, ἀκολούθηι μοι; and in fine, this interpretation renders the

whole anecdote so trivial, that it would have been better omitted.

[869] Hence the abruptness and impetuosity of the scene return upon us,

and we are compelled to pronounce that such is not the course of real

life, nor the procedure of a man who, like Jesus, respects the laws and

formalities of human society; it is the procedure of legend and poetry,

which love contrasts, and effective scenes, which aim to give a graphic

conception of a man’s exit from an old sphere of life, and his entrance

into a new one, by representing him as at once discarding the

implements of his former trade, leaving the scene of his daily

business, and straightway commencing a new life. The historical germ of

the story may be, that Jesus actually had publicans among his

disciples, and possibly that Matthew was one. These men had truly left

the custom-house to follow Jesus; but only in the figurative sense of

this concise expression, not in the literal one depicted by the legend.

It is not less astonishing that the publican should have a great feast

in readiness for Jesus immediately after his call. For that this feast

was not prepared until the following day, [870] is directly opposed to

the narratives, the two first especially. But it is entirely in the

tone of the legend to demonstrate the joy of the publican, and the

condescension of Jesus, and to create an occasion for the reproaches

cast on the latter on account of his intimacy with sinners, by

inventing a great feast, given to the publicans at the house of their

late associate immediately after his call.

Another circumstance connected with this narrative merits particular

attention. According to the common opinion concerning the author of the

first gospel, Matthew therein narrates his own call. We may consider it

granted that there are no positive indications of this in the

narrative; but it is not so clear that there are no negative

indications which render it impossible or improbable. That the

Evangelist does not here speak in the first person, nor when describing

events in which he had a share in the first person plural, like the

author of the Acts of the Apostles, proves nothing; for Josephus and

other historians not less classical, write of themselves in the third

person, and the we of the pseudo-Matthew in the Ebionite gospel has a

very suspicious sound. The use of the expression, ἄνθρωπον, Ματθαῖον

λεγόμενον, which the Manicheans made an objection, [871] as they did

the above-mentioned circumstance, is not without a precedent in the

writings of Xenophon, who in his Anabasis introduces himself as

Xenophon, a certain Athenian, Ξενοφῶν τις Ἀθηναῖος. [872] The Greek,

however, did not fall into this style from absorption in his subject,

nor from unaffected freedom from egotism,—causes which Olshausen

supposes in the Evangelist; but either from a wish not to pass for the

author, as an old tradition states, [873] or from considerations of

taste, neither of which motives will be attributed to Matthew. Whether

we are therefore to consider that expression as a sign that the author

of the first gospel was not Matthew, may be difficult to decide: [874]

but it is certain that this history of the publican’s call is

throughout less clearly narrated in that gospel than in the third. In

the former, we are at a loss to understand why it is abruptly said that

Jesus sat at meat in the house, if the Evangelist were himself the

hospitable publican, since it would then seem most natural for him to

let his joy on account of his call appear in the narrative, by telling,

as Luke does, that he immediately made a great feast in his house. To

say that he withheld this from modesty, is to invest a rude Galilean of

that age with the affectation belonging to the most refined

self-consciousness of modern days.

To this feast at the publican’s, of which many of the same obnoxious

class partook, the Evangelists annex the reproaches cast at the

disciples by the Pharisees and Scribes, because their master ate with

publicans and sinners. Jesus, being within hearing of the censure,

repelled it by the well-known text on the destination of the physician

for the sick, and the Son of Man for sinners (Matt. ix. 11 ff.

parall.). That Jesus should be frequently taunted by his pharisaical

enemies with his too great predilection for the despised class of

publicans (comp. Matt. xi. 19), accords fully with the nature of his

position, and is therefore historical, if anything be so: the answer,

too, which is here put into the mouth of Jesus, is from its pithy and

concise character well adapted for literal transmission. Further, it is

not improbable that the reproach in question may have been especially

called forth, by the circumstance that Jesus ate with publicans and

sinners, and went under their roofs. But that the cavils of his

opponents should have been accompaniments of the publican’s dinner, as

the evangelical account leads us to infer, especially that of Mark (v.

16), is not so easily conceivable. [875] For as the feast was in the

house (ἐν τῇ οἰκίᾳ), and as the disciples also partook of it, how could

the Pharisees utter their reproaches to them, while the meal was going

forward, without defiling themselves by becoming the guests of a man

that was a sinner,—the very act which they reprehended in Jesus? (Luke

xix. 7). It will hardly be supposed that they waited outside until the

feast was ended. It is difficult for Schleiermacher to maintain, even

on the representation of Luke taken singly, that the evangelical

narrative only implies, that the publican’s feast was the cause of the

Pharisees’ censure, and not that they were contemporary. [876] Their

immediate connexion might easily originate in a legendary manner; in

fact, one scarcely knows how tradition, in its process of transmuting

the abstract into the concrete, could represent the general idea that

the Pharisees had taken offence at the friendly intercourse of Jesus

with the publicans, otherwise than thus: Jesus once feasted in a

publican’s house, in company with many publicans; the Pharisees saw

this, went to the disciples and expressed their censure, which Jesus

also heard, and parried by a laconic answer.

After the Pharisees, Matthew makes the disciples of John approach Jesus

with the question, why his disciples did not fast, as they did (v. 14

f.); in Luke (v. 33 ff.) it is still the Pharisees who vaunt their own

fasts and those of John’s disciples, as contrasted with the eating and

drinking of the disciples of Jesus; Mark’s account is not clear (v.

18). According to Schleiermacher, every unprejudiced person must

perceive in the statement of Matthew compared with that of Luke, the

confusing emendations of a second editor, who could not explain to

himself how the Pharisees came to appeal to the disciples of John;

whereas, thinks Schleiermacher, the question would have been puerile in

the mouth of the latter; but it is easy to imagine that the Pharisees

might avail themselves of an external resemblance to the disciples of

John when opposing Jesus, who had himself received baptism of that

teacher. It is certainly surprising that after the Pharisees, who were

offended because Jesus ate with publicans, some disciples of John

should step forth as if they had been cited for the purpose, to censure

generally the unrestricted eating and drinking of Jesus and his

disciples. The probable explanation is, that evangelical tradition

associated the two circumstances from their intrinsic similarity, and

that the first Evangelist erroneously gave them the additional

connexion of time and place. But the manner in which the third

Evangelist fuses the two particulars, appears a yet more artificial

combination, and is certainly not historical, because the reply of

Jesus could only be directed to John’s disciples, or to friendly

inquirers: to Pharisees, he would have given another and a more severe

answer. [877]

Another narrative, which is peculiar to Luke (xix. 1–10), treats of the

same relation as that concerning Matthew or Levi. When Jesus, on his

last journey to the feast, passes through Jericho, a chief among the

publicans, ἀρχιτελώνης named Zacchæus, that he might, notwithstanding

his short stature, get a sight of Jesus among the crowd, climbed a

tree, where Jesus observed him, and immediately held him worthy to

entertain the Messiah for the night. Here, again, the favour shown to a

publican excites the discontent of the more rigid spectators; and when

Zacchæus has made vows of atonement and beneficence, Jesus again

justifies himself, on the ground that his office had reference to

sinners. The whole scene is very dramatic, and this might be deemed by

some an argument for its historical character; but there are certain

internal obstacles to its reception. We are not led to infer that Jesus

previously knew Zacchæus, or that some one pointed him out to Jesus by

name; [878] but, as Olshausen truly says, the knowledge of Zacchæus

that Jesus here suddenly evinced, is to be referred to his power of

discerning what was in men without the aid of testimony. We have before

decided that this power is a legendary attribute; hence the above

particular, at least, cannot be historical, and the narrative is

possibly a variation on the same theme as that treated of in connexion

with the account of Matthew’s call, namely, the friendly relation of

Jesus to the publicans.

§ 73.

THE TWELVE APOSTLES.

The men whose vocation we have been considering, namely, the sons of

Jonas and Zebedee, with Philip and Matthew (Nathanael alone being

excepted) form the half of that narrow circle of disciples which

appears throughout the New Testament under the name of the twelve, οἱ

δώδεκα, the twelve disciples or apostles, οἱ δώδεκα μαθήται or

ἀπόστολοι. The fundamental idea of the New Testament writers concerning

the twelve, is that Jesus himself chose them (Mark iii. 13 f.; Luke vi.

13; John vi. 70, xv. 16). Matthew does not give us the history of the

choice of all the twelve, but he tacitly presupposes it by introducing

them as a college already instituted (x. 1). Luke, on the contrary,

narrates how, after a night spent on the mountain in vigils and prayer,

Jesus selected twelve from the more extensive circle of his adherents,

and then descended with them to the plain, to deliver what is called

the Sermon on the Mount (vi. 12). Mark also tells us in the same

connexion, that Jesus when on a mountain made a voluntary choice of

twelve from the mass of his disciples (iii. 13). According to Luke,

Jesus chose the twelve immediately before he delivered the Sermon on

the Mount, and apparently with reference to it; but there is no

discoverable motive which can explain this mode of associating the two

events, for the discourse was not specially addressed to the apostles,

[879] neither had they any office to execute during its delivery.

Mark’s representation, with the exception of the vague tradition from

which he sets out, that Jesus chose the twelve, seems to have been

wrought out of his own imagination, and furnishes no distinct notion of

the occasion and manner of the choice. [880] Matthew has adopted the

best method in merely presupposing, without describing, the particular

vocation of the apostles; and John pursues the same plan, beginning

(vi. 67) to speak of the twelve, without any previous notice of their

appointment.

Strictly speaking, therefore, it is merely presupposed in the gospels,

that Jesus himself fixed the number of the apostles. Is this

presupposition correct? There certainly is little doubt that this

number was fixed during the lifetime of Jesus; for not only does the

author of the Acts represent the twelve as so compact a body

immediately after the ascension of their master, that they think it

incumbent on them to fill up the breach made by the apostasy of Judas

by the election of a new member (i. 15 ff.); but the Apostle Paul also

notices an appearance of the risen Jesus, specially to the twelve (1

Cor. xv. 5). Schleiermacher, however, doubts whether Jesus himself

chose the twelve, and he thinks it more probable that the peculiar

relation ultimately borne to him by twelve from amongst his disciples,

gradually and spontaneously formed itself. [881] We have, indeed, no

warrant for supposing that the appointment of the twelve was a single

solemn act; on the contrary, the gospels explicitly narrate, that six

of them were called singly, or by pairs, and on separate occasions; but

it is still a question whether the number twelve was not determined by

Jesus, and whether he did not willingly abide by it as an expedient for

checking the multiplication of his familiar companions. The number is

the less likely to have been fortuitous, the more significant it is,

and the more evident the inducements to its choice by Jesus. He

himself, in promising the disciples (Matt. xix. 28) that they shall sit

on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel, gives their

number a relation to that of the tribes of his people; and it was the

opinion of the highest Christian antiquity that this relation

determined his choice. [882] If he and his disciples were primarily

sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Matt. x. 6, xv. 24), it

might seem appropriate that the number of the shepherds should

correspond to that of the shepherdless tribes (Matt. ix. 36).

The destination of the twelve is only generally intimated in John (xv.

16); in Mark, on the contrary, it is particularly, and without doubt

accurately, stated. He ordained twelve, it is here said, that they

should be with him, that is, that he might not be without

companionship, aid, and attendance on his journeys; and accordingly we

find them helpful to him in procuring lodgings (Luke ix. 32; Matt.

xxvi. 17 f.), food (John iv. 8), and other travelling requisites (Matt.

xxi. 1 ff.); but above all they were in his society to become scribes

well instructed unto the kingdom of heaven (Matt. xiii. 52). To this

end they had the opportunity of being present at most of the discourses

of Jesus, and even of obtaining private elucidations of their meaning

(Matt. xiii. 10 ff., 36 ff.); of purifying their minds by his severe

but friendly discipline (Matt. viii. 26, xvi. 23, xviii. 1 ff. 21 ff.;

Luke ix. 50, 55 f.; John xiii. 12 ff. etc.), and of elevating their

souls by the contemplation of his example (John xiv. 19). Another

motive of Jesus in choosing the twelve, was, according to Mark, that he

might send them forth to preach, that is, to preach the kingdom of

heaven during his life, according to the immediate meaning of Mark; but

the promulgation of his cause after his death, must be supposed as an

additional object on the part of Jesus. (Mark proceeds to enumerate the

powers of healing and of casting out devils; but on these points we

cannot dilate until we reach a future stage of our inquiry.)

It was this latter destination that won for them the distinguished name

of apostles, ἀπόστολοι (Matt. x. 2; Mark vi. 30; Luke vii. 13, etc.).

It has been doubted whether Jesus himself conferred this name on the

twelve, according to Luke vi. 13, and it has been suggested that it was

not given them until later, ex eventu. [883] But that Jesus should have

called them his envoys cannot be improbable, if he really sent them on

a journey to announce the approaching kingdom of the Messiah. We grant

that it is possible to regard this journey as an event transposed from

the period after the death of Jesus to his lifetime, in order that a

sort of rehearsal of the subsequent mission of the apostles might pass

under the eye of Jesus; but as it is not improbable that Jesus, perhaps

even before he had a full conviction of his own Messiahship, sent out

messengers to announce the Messiah’s kingdom, we are not warranted to

urge such a doubt.

John knows nothing of this mission, recorded by the synoptists. On the

other hand, they are ignorant of a circumstance alleged by John,

namely, that the disciples baptized during the life of Jesus (iv. 2).

According to the synoptical Evangelists, it was not until after the

resurrection, that Jesus gave his disciples authority to baptize (Matt.

xxviii. 19, parall.). As, however, the rite of baptism was introduced

by John, and we have reason to believe that Jesus, for a time, made

that teacher his model, it is highly probable that he and his disciples

also practised baptism, and hence that the positive statement of the

fourth gospel is correct. But the negative statement that Jesus himself

baptised not (iv. 2), has the appearance of an after-thought, intended

to correct the import of the previous passages (iii. 22, iv. 1), and is

most probably to be accounted for by the tendency of the fourth gospel

to exalt Jesus above the Baptist, and by a corresponding dread of

making Jesus exercise the function of the mere forerunner. The question

whether Jesus did not baptize at least the apostles, afterwards

occasioned much demur in the church.

With the exception of the mission mentioned above, the gospels speak of

no important separation between Jesus and his twelve disciples, for

there is nothing certain to be gathered from the resumption of their

business after his death (John xxi. 2 ff.). No one could detect in our

gospels any indications of a repeated interruption to the intercourse

of Jesus with his disciples, but theologians, whose harmonistic zeal

wished to find room for a second and third vocation; or expositors,

who, in their unwearied application to details, cast about for a means

of subsistence for so many indigent men, and thought it necessary to

suppose that they were occasionally provided for by a return to their

secular labours. As to the subsistence of Jesus and his disciples, we

have sufficient sources for it in the hospitality of the East, which,

among the Jews, was especially available to the rabbins; in the

companionship of rich women who ministered unto him of their substance

(Luke viii. 2 f.); and finally in the γλωσσόκομον, mentioned, it is

true, only by the fourth Evangelist (xii. 6, xiii. 29), which was ample

enough to furnish assistance to the poor, as well as to supply the

wants of the society, and in which, it is probable, presents from

wealthy friends of Jesus were deposited. They who do not hold these

means adequate without the labour of the disciples, or who think, on

more general grounds, that the total renunciation of their secular

employment on the part of the twelve, is improbable, must not try to

force their opinion on the Evangelists, who by the stress which they

lay on the expression of the apostles, we have left all (Matt. xix. 27

ff.), plainly intimate the opposite view.

We gather, as to the rank of the twelve disciples of Jesus, that they

all belonged to the lower class: four, or perhaps more (John xxi. 2),

were fishermen, one a publican, and for the others, it is probable from

the degree of cultivation they evince, and the preference always

expressed by Jesus for the poor πτωχοὺς, and the little ones, νηπίους

(Matt. v. 3, xi. 5, 25), that they were of a similar grade.

§ 74.

THE TWELVE CONSIDERED INDIVIDUALLY. THE THREE OR FOUR MOST CONFIDENTIAL

DISCIPLES OF JESUS.

We have in the New Testament four catalogues of the apostles; one in

each of the synoptical gospels, and one in the Acts (Matt. x. 2–4; Mark

iii. 6–10; Luke vi. 14–16; Acts i. 13). Each of these four lists may be

divided into three quaternions; in each corresponding quaternion the

first member is the same; and in the last, the concluding member also,

if we except Acts i. 13, where he is absent: but the intermediate

members are differently arranged, and in the concluding quaternions

there is a difference of names or of persons.

At the head of the first quaternion in all the catalogues, and in

Matthew with the prefix πρῶτος (the first), stands Simon Peter, the son

of Jonas (Matt. xvi. 17); according to the fourth gospel, of Bethsaida

(i. 45); according to the synoptists, resident in Capernaum [884]

(Matt. viii. 14, parall.). We hear an echo of the old polemical

dispute, when Protestant expositors ascribe this position to mere

chance,—an assumption which is opposed by the fact that all four of the

catalogues agree in giving the precedence to Peter, though they differ

in other points of arrangement; or when those expositors allege, in

explanation, that Peter was first called, [885] which, according to the

fourth gospel, was not the case. That this invariable priority is

indicative of a certain pre-eminence of Peter among the twelve, is

evident from the part he plays elsewhere in the evangelical history.

Ardent by nature, he is always beforehand with the rest of the

apostles, whether in speech (Matt. xv. 15, xvi. 16, 22, xvii. 4, xviii.

21, xxvi. 33; John vi. 68), or in action (Matt. xiv. 28, xxvi. 58; John

xviii. 16); and if it is not seldom the case that the speech and action

are faulty, and that his prompt courage quickly evaporates, as his

denial shows, yet he is, according to the synoptical statement, the

first who expresses a decided conviction of the Messiahship of Jesus

(Matt. xvi. 16, parall.). It is true that of the eulogies and

prerogatives bestowed on him on that occasion, that which is implied in

his surname is the only one that remains peculiarly his; for the

authority to bind and to loose, that is, to forbid and to permit, [886]

in the newly-founded Messianic kingdom, is soon after extended to all

the apostles (xviii. 18). Yet more decidedly does this pre-eminence of

Peter among the original apostles appear in the Acts, and in the

Epistles of Paul.

Next to Peter, the catalogue of the first and third gospels places his

brother Andrew; that of the second gospel and the Acts, James, and

after him, John. The first and third Evangelists are evidently guided

by the propriety of uniting the couples of brethren; Mark and the

author of the Acts, by that of preferring the two apostles next in

distinction to Peter to the less conspicuous Andrew, whom they

accordingly put last in the quaternion. We have already considered the

manner in which these four apostles are signalized in the Christian

legend by a special history of their vocation. They appear together in

other passages of Mark; first (i. 29), where Jesus, in company with the

sons of Zebedee, enters the house of Simon and Andrew: as, however, the

other Evangelists only mention Peter on this occasion, Mark may have

added the other names inferentially, concluding that the four

fishermen, so recently called, would not be apart from Jesus, and that

Andrew had a share in his brother’s house, a thing in itself probable.

[887] Again, Mark xiii. 3, our four apostles concur in asking Jesus

privately (κατ’ ἰδίαν) concerning the time of the destruction of the

temple, and of his second advent. But the parallel passages in the

other gospels do not thus particularize any of the disciples. Matthew

says, The disciples came to him privately (xxiv. 3); hence it is

probable that Mark’s limitation is an erroneous one. Possibly the words

κατ’ ἰδίαν, being used in the document to which he referred to denote

the separation of the twelve from the multitude, appeared to him, from

association, an introductory form, of which there are other examples

(Matt. xvii. 1; Mark ix. 2), to a private conference of Jesus with

Peter, James and John, to whom he might add Andrew on account of the

fraternity. Luke, on the other hand, in his account of the miraculous

draught of fishes, and the vocation of the fishermen (v. 10), omits

Andrew, though he is included in the corresponding narratives, probably

because he does not elsewhere appear as one of the select apostles; for

except on the occasions already noticed, he is only mentioned by John

(vi. 9, xii. 22), and that in no very important connexion.

The two sons of Zebedee are the only disciples whose distinction rivals

that of Peter. Like him, they evince an ardent and somewhat rash zeal

(Luke ix. 54; once John is named alone, Mark ix. 38; Luke ix. 49); and

it was to this disposition, apparently, that they owed the surname Sons

of Thunder, ‏בני רנש‎ υἱοὶ βροντῆς (Mark iii. 17), [888] conferred on

them by Jesus. So high did they stand among the twelve, that either

they (Mark xi. 35 ff.), or their mother for them (Matt. xx. 20 ff.),

thought they might claim the first place in the Messiah’s kingdom. It

is worthy of notice that not only in the four catalogues, but elsewhere

when the two brothers are named, as in Matt. iv. 21, xvii. 1; Mark i.

19, 29, v. 37, ix. 2, x. 35, xiii. 3, xiv. 33; Luke v. 10, ix. 54; with

the exception of Luke viii. 51, ix. 28; James is always mentioned

first, and John is appended to him as his brother (ὁ ἀδελφὸς αὐτοῦ).

This is surprising; because, while we know nothing remarkable of James,

John is memorable as the favourite disciple of Jesus. Hence it is

supposed that this precedence cannot possibly denote a superiority of

James to John, and an explanation has been sought in his seniority.

[889] Nevertheless, it remains a doubt whether so constant a precedence

do not intimate a pre-eminence on the part of James; at least, if, in

the apprehension of the synoptists, John had been as decidedly

preferred as he is represented to have been in the fourth gospel, we

are inclined to think that they would have named him before his brother

James, even allowing him to be the younger. This leads us to a

difference between the first three Evangelists and the fourth which

requires a closer examination.

In the synoptical gospels, as we have observed, Peter, James, and John,

form the select circle of disciples whom Jesus admits to certain

scenes, which the rest of the twelve were not spiritually mature enough

to comprehend; as the transfiguration, the conflict in Gethsemane, and,

according to Mark (v. 37), the raising of the daughter of Jairus. [890]

After the death of Jesus, also, a James, Peter and John appear as the

pillars of the church (Gal. ii. 9); this James, however, is not the son

of Zebedee, who had been early put to death (Acts xii. 2), but James,

the brother of the Lord (Gal. i. 19), who even in the first apostolic

council appears to have possessed a predominant authority, and whom

many hold to be the second James of the apostolic catalogue given in

Acts i.. [891] It is observable from the beginning of the Acts, that

James the son of Zebedee is eclipsed by Peter and John. As, then, this

James the elder was not enough distinguished or even known in the

primitive church, for his early martyrdom to have drawn much lustre on

his name, tradition had no inducement, from subsequent events, to

reflect an unhistorical splendour on his relation to Jesus; there is

therefore no reason to doubt the statement as to the prominent position

held by James, in conjunction with Peter and John, among the twelve

apostles.

So much the more must it excite surprise to find, in the fourth gospel

the triumvirate almost converted into a monarchy: James, like another

Lepidus, is wholly cast out, while Peter and John are in the position

of Antony and Octavius, the latter having nearly stripped his rival of

all pretensions to an equal rank with himself, to say nothing of a

higher. James is not even named in the fourth gospel; only in the

appendix (xxi. 2) is there any mention of the sons of Zebedee; while

several narratives of the vocations of different apostles are given,

apparently including that of John himself, no James appears in them,

neither is there any speech of his, as of many other apostles,

throughout this gospel.

Quite differently does the fourth Evangelist treat Peter. He makes him

one of the first who enter the society of Jesus, and gives him a

prominent importance not less often than the synoptists; he does not

conceal that Jesus bestowed on him an honourable surname (i. 42); he

puts in his mouth (vi. 68 f.) a confession which seems but a new

version of the celebrated one in Matt. xvi. 16; according to him, Peter

once throws himself into the sea that he may more quickly reach Jesus

(xxi. 7); at the last supper, and in the garden of Gethsemane, he makes

Peter more active than even the synoptists represent him (xiii. 6 ff.,

xviii. 10 f.); he accords him the honour of following Jesus into the

high priest’s palace (xviii. 15), and of being one of the first to

visit the grave of Jesus after the resurrection (xx. 3 ff.); nay, he

even details a special conversation between the risen Jesus and Peter

(xxi. 15 ff.). But these advantages of Peter are in the fourth gospel

invalidated in a peculiar manner, and put into the shade, in favour of

John. The synoptists tell us that Peter and John were called to the

apostleship in the same way, and the former somewhat before the latter;

the fourth Evangelist prefers associating Andrew with the nameless

disciple who is taken for John, and makes Peter come to him through the

instrumentality of his brother. [892] He also admits the honourable

interpretation of the surname Peter, and the panegyric on Peter’s

confession; but this he does in common with Mark and Luke, while the

speeches and the action attributed in the fourth gospel to Peter during

the last supper and in the garden, are to be classed as only so many

mistakes. The more we approach the catastrophe, the more marked is the

subordination of Peter to John. At the last supper, indeed, Peter is

particularly anxious for the discovery of the traitor: he cannot,

however, apply immediately to Jesus (xiii. 23 ff.), but is obliged to

make John, who was leaning on Jesus’ bosom, his medium of

communication. While, according to the synoptists, Peter alone followed

Jesus into the palace of the high priest; according to the fourth

Evangelist, John accompanied him, and under such circumstances, that

without him Peter could not have entered,—John, as one known to the

high priest, having to obtain admission for him (xviii. 15 f.). In the

synoptical gospels, not one of the disciples is bold enough to venture

to the cross; but in the fourth, John is placed under it, and is there

established in a new relation to the mother of his dying master: a

relation of which we elsewhere find no trace (xix. 26 f.). On the

appearance of the risen Jesus at the Galilean sea (xxi.), Peter, as the

θερμότερος, casts himself into the sea; but it is not until after John,

as the διορατικώτερος (Euthymius), has recognized the Lord in the

person standing on the shore. In the ensuing conversation, Peter is

indeed honoured with the commission, Feed my sheep; but this honour is

overshadowed by the dubitative question, Lovest thou me? and while the

prospect of martyrdom is held up to him, John is promised the

distinction of tarrying till Jesus came again, an advantage which Peter

is warned not to envy. Lastly, while, according to Luke (xxiv. 12),

Peter, first among the apostles, and alone, comes to the vacant grave

of his risen master, the fourth gospel (xx. 3), gives him a companion

in John, who outruns Peter and arrives first at the grave. Peter goes

into the grave before John, it is true; but it is the latter in whose

honour it is recorded, that he saw and believed, almost in

contradiction to the statement of Luke, that Peter went home wondering

in himself at that which was come to pass. Thus in the fourth gospel,

John, both literally and figuratively, outruns Peter, for the entire

impression which the attentive reader must receive from the

representation there given of the relative position of Peter and John,

is that the writer wished a comparison to be drawn in favour of the

latter. [893]

But John is moreover especially distinguished in the gospel which bears

his name, by the constant epithet, the beloved disciple, the disciple

whom Jesus loved, ὁ μαθητὴς ὅν ἠγάπα, or ἐφίλει ὁ Ἰησοῦς (xiii. 23,

xix. 26, xx. 2, xxi. 7, 20). It is true that we have no absolute proof

from the contents of the fourth gospel, whether intrinsically or

comparatively considered, that by the above formula, or the more

indeterminate one, the other ὁ ἄλλος, or another disciple, ἄλλος

μαθητὴς (x. 15 f., xx. 3, 4, 8), which, as it appears from xx. 2 f., is

its equivalent, we are to understand the Apostle John. For neither is

the designation in question anywhere used interchangeably with the name

of the apostle, nor is there anything narrated in the fourth gospel of

the favourite disciple, which in the three first is ascribed to John.

Because in xxi. 2 the sons of Zebedee are named among the assistants,

it does not follow that the disciple mentioned in v. 7 as the one whom

Jesus loved must be John; James, or the one of the two other disciples

mentioned in v. 2, might be meant. Nevertheless, it is the immemorial

tradition of the church that the disciple whom Jesus loved was John,

nor are all reasons for such a belief extinct even to us; for in the

Greek circle from which the fourth gospel sprang, there could scarcely

be among the apostles whom it leaves unnamed, one so well known as to

be recognized under that description unless it were John, whose

residence at Ephesus is hardly to be rejected as a mere fable.

It may appear more doubtful whether the author intended by this title

to designate himself, and thus to announce himself as the Apostle John.

The conclusion of the twenty-first chapter, v. 24, does certainly make

the favourite disciple the testifier and writer of the preceding

history; but we may assume it as granted that this passage is an

addition by a strange hand. [894] When, however, in the genuine text of

the gospel (xix. 35), the writer says of the effect produced by the

piercing of the side of Jesus, he that saw bare record, ὁ ἑωρακὼς

μεμαρτύρηκε, no other than the favourite disciple can be intended,

because he alone among all the disciples (the only parties eligible as

witnesses in the case), is supposed to be present at the cross. The

probability that the author here speaks of himself is not at all

affected by his use of the third person; but the preterite annexed to

it may well excite a doubt whether an appeal be not here made to the

testimony of John, as one distinct from the writer. [895] This mode of

expression, however, may be explained also in accordance with the other

supposition, [896] which is supported by the circumstance that the

author in i. 14, 16, seems to announce himself as the eye-witness of

the history he narrates.

Was that author, then, really the Apostle John, as he apparently wishes

us to surmise? This is another question on which we can only pronounce

when we shall have completed our investigation. We will merely allude

to the difficulty of supposing that the Apostle John could give so

unhistorical a sketch of the Baptist as that in the fourth gospel. But

we ask, is it at all probable that the real John would so unbecomingly

neglect the well-founded claims of his brother James to a special

notice? and is not such an omission rather indicative of a late

Hellenistic author, who scarcely had heard the name of the brother so

early martyred? The designation, the disciple whom Jesus loved, which

in xxi. 20 has the prolix addition, who also leaned on his breast at

supper, and said, Lord which is he that betrayeth thee? is not to be

considered as an offence against modesty. [897] It is certainly far too

laboured and embellished for one who, without any ulterior view, wishes

to indicate himself, for such an one would, at least sometimes, have

simply employed his name: but a venerator of John, issuing perhaps from

one of his schools, might very naturally be induced to designate the

revered apostle, under whose name he wished to write, in this half

honourable, half mysterious manner. [898]

§ 75.

THE REST OF THE TWELVE, AND THE SEVENTY DISCIPLES.

The second quaternion in all the four catalogues begins with Philip.

The three first gospels know nothing more of him than his name. The

fourth alone gives his birth-place, Bethsaida, and narrates his

vocation (i. 44 f.); in this gospel he is more than once an

interlocutor, but his observations are founded on mistakes (vi. 7, xiv.

8); and he perhaps appears with most dignity, when the Ἕλληνες, who

wish to see Jesus, apply immediately to him (xii. 21).

The next in the evangelical lists is Bartholomew; a name which is

nowhere found out of the catalogues. In the synoptical gospels

Bartholomew is coupled with Philip; in the history of the vocations

given by the fourth Evangelist (i. 46), Nathanael appears in company

with the latter and (xxi. 2) is again presented in the society of the

apostles. Nathanael, however, finds no place among the twelve, unless

he be identical with one otherwise named by the synoptists. If so, it

is thought that Bartholomew is the most easily adapted to such an

alias, as the three first gospels couple him with Philip, just as the

fourth, which has no Bartholomew, does Nathanael; to which it may be

added that ‏בר תלמי‎ is a mere patronymic, which must have been

accompanied by a proper name, such as Nathanael. [899] But we have no

adequate ground for such an identification, since the juxtaposition of

Bartholomew and Philip is shown to be accidental, by our finding the

former (Acts i. 13), as well as the latter (John xxi. 2), linked with

different names; the absence of Bartholomew from the fourth gospel is

not peculiar to him among the twelve; finally, second names as surnames

were added to proper as well as to patronymic names, as Simon Peter,

Joseph Caiaphas, John Mark, and the like; so that any other apostle not

named by John might be equally well identified with Nathanael, and

hence the supposed relation between the two appellations is altogether

uncertain.

In the catalogue given in the Acts, Philip is followed, not by

Bartholomew, but by Thomas, who in the list of the first gospel comes

after Bartholomew, in that of the others, after Matthew. Thomas, in

Greek Δίδυμος, appears in the fourth gospel, on one occasion, in the

guise of mournful fidelity (xi. 16); on another, in the more noted one

of incredulity (xx. 24 ff.); and once again in the appendix (xxi. 2).

Matthew, the next in the series, is found nowhere else except in the

history of his vocation.

The third quaternion is uniformly opened by James the son of Alpheus,

of whom we have already spoken. After him comes in both Luke’s lists,

Simon, whom he calls Zelotes, or the zealot, but whom Matthew and Mark

(in whose catalogues he is placed one degree lower) distinguish as the

Cannanite ὁ κανανίτης (from ‏קָנָא‎, to be zealous). This surname seems

to mark him as a former adherent of the Jewish sect of zealots for

religion, [900] a party which, it is true, did not attain consistence

until the latest period of the Jewish state, but which was already in

the process of formation. In all the lists that retain the name of

Judas Iscariot, he occupies the last place, but of him we must not

speak until we enter on the history of the Passion. Luke, in his

filling up of the remaining places of this quaternion, differs from the

two other Evangelists, and perhaps these also differ from each other;

Luke has a second Judas, whom he styles the brother of James; Matthew,

Lebbeus; and Mark, Thaddeus. It is true that we now commonly read in

Matthew, Lebbeus, whose surname was Thaddeus; but the vacillation in

the early readings seems to betray these words to be a later addition

intended to reconcile the first two Evangelists; [901] an attempt which

others have made by pointing out a similarity of meaning between the

two names, though such a similarity does not exist. [902] But allowing

validity to one or other of these harmonizing efforts, there yet

remains a discrepancy between Matthew and Mark with their

Lebbeus-Thaddeus, and Luke with his Judas, the brother of James.

Schleiermacher justly disapproves the expedients, almost all of them

constrained and unnatural, which have been resorted to for the sake of

proving that here also, we have but one person under two different

names. He seeks to explain the divergency, by supposing, that during

the lifetime of Jesus, one of the two men died or left the circle of

the apostles, and the other took his place; so that one list gives the

earlier, the other the later member. [903] But it is scarcely possible

to admit that any one of our catalogues was drawn up during the life of

Jesus; and after that period, no writer would think of including a

member who had previously retired from the college of apostles; those

only would be enumerated who were ultimately attached to Jesus. It is

the most reasonable to allow that there is a discrepancy between the

lists, since it is easy to account for it by the probability that while

the number of the apostles, and the names of the most distinguished

among them, were well known, varying traditions supplied the place of

more positive data concerning the less conspicuous.

Luke makes us acquainted with a circle of disciples, intermediate to

the twelve and the mass of the partisans of Jesus. He tells us (x. 1

ff.) that besides the twelve, Jesus chose other seventy also, and sent

them two and two before him into all the districts which he intended to

visit on his last journey, that they might proclaim the approach of the

kingdom of heaven. As the other Evangelists have no allusion to this

event, the most recent critics have not hesitated to make their silence

on this head a reproach to them, particularly to the first Evangelist,

in his supposed character of apostle. [904] But the disfavour towards

Matthew on this score ought to be moderated by the consideration, that

neither in the other gospels, nor in the Acts, nor in any apostolic

epistle, is there any trace of the seventy disciples, who could

scarcely have passed thus unnoticed, had their mission been as fruitful

in consequences, as it is commonly supposed. It is said, however, that

the importance of this appointment lay in its significance, rather than

in its effects. As the number of the twelve apostles, by its relation

to that of the tribes of Israel, shadowed forth the destination of

Jesus for the Jewish people; so the seventy, or as some authorities

have it, the seventy-two disciples, were representatives of the seventy

or seventy-two peoples, with as many different tongues, which,

according to the Jewish and early Christian view, formed the sum of the

earth’s inhabitants, [905] and hence they denoted the universal

destination of Jesus and his kingdom. [906] Moreover, seventy was a

sacred number with the Jewish nation; Moses deputed seventy elders

(Num. xi. 16, 25); the Sanhedrim had seventy members; [907] the Old

Testament, seventy translators.

Had Jesus, then, under the pressing circumstances that mark his public

career, nothing more important to do than to cast about for significant

numbers, and to surround himself with inner and outer circles of

disciples, regulated by these mystic measures? or rather, is not this

constant preference for sacred numbers, this assiduous development of

an idea to which the number of the apostles furnished the suggestion,

wholly in the spirit of the primitive Christian legend? This, supposing

it imbued with Jewish prepossessions, would infer, that as Jesus had

respect to the twelve tribes in fixing the number of his apostles, he

would extend the parallel by appointing seventy subordinate disciples,

corresponding to the seventy elders; or, supposing the legend animated

by the more universal sentiments of Paul, it could not escape the

persuasion that to the symbol of the relation of his office to the

Israelitish people, Jesus would annex another, significative of its

destination for all the kindreds of the earth. However agreeable this

class of seventy disciples may have always been to the church, as a

series of niches for the reception of men who, without belonging to the

twelve, were yet of importance to her, as Mark, Luke and Matthew; we

are compelled to pronounce the decision of our most recent critic

precipitate, and to admit that the Gospel of Luke, by its acceptance of

such a narrative, destitute as it is of all historical confirmation,

and of any other apparent source than dogmatical interests, is placed

in disadvantageous comparison with that of Matthew. We gather, indeed,

from Acts i. 21 f. that Jesus had more than the twelve as his constant

companions; but that these formed a body of exactly seventy, or that

that number was selected from them, does not seem adequately warranted

[908].