A Consideration of Certain Ill-Judged
Methods of Defence
THE reader has now heard the utmost that can be said against the historic
character of the Resurrection by the ablest of its impugners. I know of
nothing in any of Strauss’s works which can be considered as doing better
justice to his opinions than the passages which I have quoted and, I
trust, refuted. I have quoted fully, and have kept nothing in the
background. If I had known of anything stronger against the Resurrection
from any other source, I should certainly have produced it. I have
answered in outline only, but I do not believe that I have passed any
difficulty on one side.
What then does the reader think? Was the attack so dangerous, or the
defence so far to seek? I believe he will agree with me that the combat
was one of no great danger when it was once fairly entered upon. But the
wonder, and, let me add, the disgrace, to English divines, is that the
battle should have been shirked so long. What is it that has made the
name of Strauss so terrible to the ears of English Churchmen? Surely
nothing but the ominous silence which has been maintained concerning him
in almost all quarters of our Church. For what can he say or do against
the other miracles if he be powerless against the Resurrection? He can
make sentences which sound plausible, but that is no great feat. Can he
show that there is any _a priori_ improbability whatever, in the fact of
miracles having been wrought by one who died and rose from the dead? If
a man did this it is a small thing that he should also walk upon the
waves and command the winds. But if there is no _a priori_ difficulty
with regard to these miracles, there is certainly none other.
Let this, however, for the present pass, only let me beg of the reader to
have patience while I follow out the plan which I have pursued up to the
present point, and proceed to examine certain difficulties of another
character. I propose to do so with the same unflinching examination as
heretofore, concealing nothing that has been said, or that can be said;
going out of my way to find arguments for opponents, if I do not think
that they have put forward all that from their own point of view they
might have done, and careless how many difficulties I may bring before
the reader which may never yet have occurred to him, provided I feel that
I can also shew him how little occasion there is to fear them.
I must, however, maintain two propositions, which may perhaps be
unfamiliar to some of those who have not as yet given more than a
conventional and superficial attention to the Scriptural records, but
which will meet with ready assent from all whose studies have been
deeper. Fain would I avoid paining even a single reader, but I am
convinced that the arresting of infidelity depends mainly upon the
general recognition of two broad facts. The first is this—that the
Apostles, even after they had received the gift of the Holy Spirit were
still fallible though holy men; the second—that there are certain
passages in each of the Gospels as we now have them, which were not
originally to be found therein, and others which, though genuine, are
still not historic. This much of concession we must be prepared to make,
and we shall find (as in the case of the conversion of St. Paul) that our
position is indefinitely strengthened by doing so.
When shall we Christians learn that the truest ground is also the
strongest? We may be sure that until we have done so we shall find a
host of enemies who will say that truth is not ours. It is we who have
created infidelity, and who are responsible for it. _We_ are the true
infidels, for we have not sufficient faith in our own creed to believe
that it will bear the removal of the incrustations of time and
superstition. When men see our cowardice, what can they think but that
we must know that we have cause to be afraid? We drive men into unbelief
in spite of themselves, by our tenacious adherence to opinions which
every unprejudiced person must see at a glance that we cannot rightfully
defend, and then we pride ourselves upon our love for Christ and our
hatred of His enemies. If Christ accepts this kind of love He is not
such as He has declared Himself.
We mistake our love of our own immediate ease for the love of Christ, and
our hatred of every opinion which is strange to us, for zeal against His
enemies. If those to whom the unfamiliarity of an opinion or its
inconvenience to themselves is a test of its hatefulness to Christ, had
been born Jews, they would have crucified Him whom they imagine that they
are now serving: if Turks, they would have massacred both Jew and
Christian; if Papists at the time of the Reformation they would have
persecuted Protestants: if Protestants, under Elizabeth, Papists. Truth
is to them an accident of birth and training, and the Christian faith is
in their eyes true because these accidents, as far as they are concerned,
have decided in its favour. But such persons are not Christians. It is
they who crucify Christ, who drive men from coming to Him whose every
instinct would lead them to love and worship Him, but who are warned off
by observing the crowd of sycophants and time-servers who presume to call
Him Lord.
But to look at the matter from another point of view; when there is a
long sustained contest between two bodies of capable and seriously
disposed people, (and none can deny that many of our adversaries have
been both one and the other), and when this contest shews no sign of
healing, but rather widens from generation to generation, and each party
accuses the other of disingenuousness, obstinacy and other like serious
defects of mind—it may be certainly assumed that the truth lies wholly
with neither side, but that each should make some concessions to the
other. A third party sees this at a glance, and is amazed because
neither of the disputants can perceive that his opponent must be
possessed of some truths, in spite of his trying to defend other
positions which are indefensible. Strange! that a thing which it seems
so easy to avoid, should so seldom be avoided! Homer said well:
“Perish strife, both from among gods and men,
And wrath which maketh even him that is considerate, cruel,
Which getteth up in the heart of a man like smoke,
And the taste thereof is sweeter than drops of honey.”
But strife can never cease without concessions upon both sides. We agree
to this readily in the abstract, but we seldom do so when any given
concession is in question. We are all for concession in the general, but
for none in the particular, as people who say that they will retrench
when they are living beyond their income, but will not consent to any
proposed retrenchment. Thus many shake their heads and say that it is
impossible to live in the present age and not be aware of many
difficulties in connection with the Christian religion; they have studied
the question more deeply than perhaps the unbeliever imagines; and having
said this much they give themselves credit for being wide-minded, liberal
and above vulgar prejudices: but when pressed as to this or that
particular difficulty, and asked to own that such and such an objection
of the infidel’s needs explanation, they will have none of it, and will
in nine cases out of ten betray by their answers that they neither know
nor want to know what the infidel means, but on the contrary that they
are resolute to remain in ignorance. I know this kind of liberality
exceedingly well, and have ever found it to harbour more selfishness,
idleness, cowardice and stupidity than does open bigotry. The bigot is
generally better than his expressed opinions, these people are invariably
worse than theirs.
The above principle has been largely applied in the writings of so-called
orthodox commentators, not unfrequently even by men who might have been
assumed to be above condescending to such trickery. A great preface
concerning candour, with a flourish of trumpets in the praise of truth,
seems to have exhausted every atom of truth and candour from the work
that follows it.
It will be said that I ought not to make use of language such as this
without bringing forward examples. I shall therefore adduce them.
One of the most serious difficulties to the unbeliever is the
inextricable confusion in which the accounts of the Resurrection have
reached us: no one can reconcile these accounts with one another, not
only in minute particulars, but in matters on which it is of the highest
importance to come to a clear understanding. Thus, to omit all notice of
many other discrepancies, the accounts of Mark, Luke, and John concur in
stating that when the women came to the tomb of Jesus very early on the
Sunday morning, they found it _already empty_: the stone was gone when
they came there, and, according to John, there was not even an angelic
vision for some time afterwards. There is nothing in any of these three
accounts to preclude the possibility of the stone’s having been removed
within an hour or two of the body’s having been laid in the tomb.
But when we turn to Matthew we find all changed: we are told that the
stone was gone _not_ when the women came, but that on their arrival there
was a great earthquake, and that an angel came down from Heaven, and
rolled away the stone, _and sat upon it_, and that the guard who had been
set over the tomb (of whom we hear nothing from any of the other
evangelists) became as dead men while the angel addressed the women.
Now this is not one of those cases in which the supposition can be
tolerated that all would be clear if the whole facts of the case were
known to us. No additional facts can make it come about that the tomb
should have been sealed and guarded, and yet _not_ sealed and guarded;
that the same women, at the same time and place, should have witnessed an
earthquake, and yet _not_ witnessed one; have found a stone already gone
from a tomb, and yet _not_ found it gone; have seen it rolled away, and
_not_ seen it, and so on; those who say that we should find no difficulty
if we knew _all_ the facts are still careful to abstain from any example
(so far as I know) of the sort of additional facts which would serve
their purpose. They cannot give one; any mind which is truly
candid—white—not scrawled and scribbled over till no character is
decipherable—will feel at once that the only question to be raised is,
which is the more correct account of the Resurrection—Matthew’s or those
given by the other three Evangelists? How far is Matthew’s account true,
and how far is it exaggerated? For there must be either exaggeration or
invention somewhere. It is inconceivable that the other writers should
have known the story told by Matthew, and yet not only made no allusion
to it, but introduced matter which flatly contradicts it, and it is also
inconceivable that the story should be true, and yet that the other
writers should not have known it.
This is how the difficulty stands—a difficulty which vanishes in a moment
if it be rightly dealt with, but which, when treated after our unskilful
English method, becomes capable of doing inconceivable mischief to the
Christian religion. Let us see then what Dean Alford—a writer whose
professions of candour and talk about the duty of unflinching examination
leave nothing to be desired—has to say upon this point. I will first
quote the passage in full from Matthew, and then give the Dean’s note. I
have drawn the greater part of the comments that will follow it from an
anonymous pamphlet {141} upon the Resurrection, dated 1865, but without a
publisher’s name, so that I presume it must have been printed for private
circulation only.
St. Matthew’s account runs:—
“Now the next day, that followed the day of the preparation, the
chief priests and Pharisees came together unto Pilate, saying, ‘Sir,
we remember that that deceiver said, while he was yet alive, “After
three days I will rise again.” Command therefore that the sepulchre
be made sure until the third day, lest his disciples come by night
and steal him away and say unto the people, “He is risen from the
dead:” so the last error shall be worse than the first.’ Pilate said
unto them, ‘Ye have a watch: go your way, make it as sure as ye can.’
So they went and made the sepulchre sure, sealing the stone and
setting a watch. In the end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn
towards the first day of the week, came Mary Magdalene and the other
Mary to see the sepulchre. And, behold, there was a great
earthquake: for the angel of the Lord descended from heaven, and came
and rolled back the stone from the door, and sat upon it. His
countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow: And
for fear of him the keepers did shake, and became as dead men. And
the angel answered and said unto the women, ‘Fear not ye: for I know
that ye seek Jesus, which was crucified. He is not here: for he is
risen, as he said. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. And go
quickly, and tell his disciples that he is risen from the dead; and,
behold, he goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see him: lo,
I have told you.’ And they departed quickly from the sepulchre with
fear and great joy; and did run to bring his disciples word. And as
they went to tell his disciples, Jesus met them, saying, ‘All hail.’
And they came and held him by the feet, and worshipped him (_cf._
John xx., 16, 17). Then said Jesus unto them, ‘Be not afraid: go
tell my brethren that they go into Galilee, and there shall they see
me.’ Now when they were going, behold, some of the watch came into
the city, and shewed unto the chief priests all the things that were
done. And when they were assembled with the elders, and had taken
counsel, they gave large money unto the soldiers, saying, ‘Say ye,
His disciples came by night, and stole him away while we slept. And
if this come to the governor’s ears, we will persuade him and secure
you.’ So they took the money, and did as they were taught: and this
saying is commonly reported among the Jews until this day.”
Let us turn now to the Dean’s note on Matt. xxvii., 62–66.
With regard to the setting of the watch and sealing of the stone, he
tells us that the narrative following (_i.e._, the account of the guard
and the earthquake) “has been much impugned and its historical accuracy
very generally given up even by the best of the German commentators
(Olshausen, Meyer; also De Wette, Hase, and others). The chief
difficulties found in it seem to be: (1) How should the chief priests,
&c., _know of His having said_ ‘in three days I will rise again,’ when
the saying was hid even from His own disciples? The answer to this is
easy. The _meaning_ of the saying may have been, and was hid from the
disciples; _but the fact of its having been said_ could be no secret.
Not to lay any stress on John ii., 19 (Jesus answered and said unto them,
‘Destroy this temple and in three days I will build it up’), we have the
direct prophecy of Matt. xii., 40 (‘For as Jonah was three days and three
nights in the whale’s belly, so shall the Son of Man be three days and
three nights in the heart of the earth): besides this there would be a
rumour current, through the intercourse of the Apostles with others, that
He had been in the habit of so saying. (From what source can Dean Alford
know that our Lord _was_ in the habit of so saying? What particle of
authority is there for this alleged habit of our Lord?) As to the
_understanding_ of the words we must remember that _hatred is keener
sighted than love_: that the _raising of Lazarus_ would shew _what sort
of a thing rising from the dead was to be_; and the fulfilment of the
Lord’s announcement of his _crucifixion_ would naturally lead them to
look further to _what more_ he had announced. (2) How should the women
who were solicitous about the _removal_ of the stone not have been still
more so about its being sealed and a guard set? The answer to this last
has been given above—_they were not aware of the circumstance because the
guard was not set till the evening before_. There would be no need of
the application before the _approach of the third day_—it is only made
for a watch, εως της τρίτης ημέρας (ver. 64), and it is not probable that
the circumstance would transpire that night—certainly it seems not to
have done so. (3) That Gamaliel was of the council, and if such a thing
as this and its sequel (chap. xxviii., 11–15) had really happened, he
need not have expressed himself doubtfully (Acts v., 39), but would have
been certain that this was from God. But, first, it does not necessarily
follow that _every member_ of the Sanhedrim was present, and applied to
Pilate, or even had they done so, that all bore a part in the act of
xxviii., 12” (the bribing of the guard to silence). “One who like Joseph
had not consented to the deed before—and we may safely say that there
were others such—would naturally withdraw himself from further
proceedings against the person of Jesus. (4) Had this been so the three
other Evangelists would not have passed over so important a testimony to
the Resurrection. But surely we cannot argue in this way—for thus every
important fact narrated by _one Evangelist alone_ must be rejected, e.g.
(which stands in much the same relation), _the satisfaction of
Thomas—another such narrations_. _Till we know more about the
circumstances under which_, _and the scope with which_, _each Gospel was
compiled_, _all a priori arguments of this kind are good for nothing_.”
(The italics in the above, and throughout the notes quoted, are the
Dean’s, unless it is expressly stated otherwise.)
I will now proceed to consider this defence of Matthew’s accuracy against
the objections of the German commentators.
I. The German commentators maintain that the chief priests are not
likely to have known of any prophecy of Christ’s Resurrection when His
own disciples had evidently heard of nothing to this effect. Dean
Alford’s answer amounts to this:—
1. They had heard the words but did not understand their meaning; hatred
enabled the chief priests to see clearly what love did not reveal to the
understanding of the Apostles. True, according to Matthew, Christ had
said that as Jonah was three days and three nights in the whale’s belly,
so the Son of Man should be three days and three nights in the heart of
the earth; but it would be only hatred which would suggest the
interpretation of so obscure a prophecy: love would not be sufficiently
keen-sighted to understand it.
But in the first place I would urge that if the Apostles had ever heard
any words capable of suggesting the idea that Christ should rise, after
they had already seen the raising of Lazarus, on whom corruption had
begun its work, they _must_ have expected the Resurrection. After having
seen so stupendous a miracle, any one would expect anything which was
even suggested by the One who had performed it. And, secondly, hatred is
not keener sighted than love.
2. Dean Alford says that the raising of Lazarus would shew the chief
priests what sort of a thing the Resurrection from the dead was to be,
and that the fulfilment of Christ’s prophecy concerning his Crucifixion
would naturally lead them to look further to what else he had announced.
But, if the raising of Lazarus would shew the chief priests what sort of
thing the Resurrection was to be, it would shew the Apostles also; and
again if the fulfilment of the prophecy of the Crucifixion would lead the
chief priests to look further to the fulfilment of the prophecy of the
Resurrection, so would it lead the Apostles; this supposition of one set
of men who can see everything, and of another with precisely the same
opportunities and no less interest, who can see nothing, is vastly
convenient upon the stage, but it is not supported by a reference to
Nature; self-interest would have opened the eyes of the Apostles.
II. The German commentators ask how was it possible that the women who
were solicitous about the removal of the stone, should not be still more
so about “its being sealed and a guard set?” If the German commentators
have asked their question in this shape, they have asked it badly, and
Dean Alford’s answer is sufficient: they might have asked, how the other
three writers could all tell us that the stone was already gone when the
women got there, and yet Matthew’s story be true? and how Matthew’s story
could be true without the other writers having known it? and how the
other writers could have introduced matter contradictory to it, if they
had known it to be true?
III. The German commentators say that in the Acts of the Apostles we
find Gamaliel expressing himself as doubtful whether or no Christianity
was of God, whereas had he known the facts related by Matthew he could
have had no doubt at all. He must have _known_ that Christianity was of
God.
Dean Alford answers that perhaps Gamaliel was not there. To which I
would rejoin that though Gamaliel might have had no hand in the bribery,
supposing it to have taken place, it is inconceivable that such a story
should have not reached him; the matter could never have been kept so
quiet but that it must have leaked out. Men are not so utterly bad or so
utterly foolish as Dean Alford seems to imply; and whether Gamaliel was
or was not present when the guard were bribed, he must have been equally
aware of the fact before making the speech which is assigned to him in
the Acts.
IV. The German commentators argue from the silence of the other
Evangelists: Dean Alford replies by denying that this silence is any
argument: but I would answer, that on a matter which the other three
writers must have known to have been of such intense interest, their
silence is a conclusive proof either of their ignorance or their
indolence as historians. Dean Alford has well substantiated the
independence of the four narratives, he has well proved that the writer
of the fourth Gospel could never have seen the other Gospels, and yet he
supposes that that writer either did not know the facts related by
Matthew, or thought it unnecessary to allude to them. Neither of these
suppositions is tenable: but there would nevertheless be a shadow of
ground for Dean Alford to stand upon if the other Evangelists were simply
silent: but why does he omit all notice of their introducing matter which
is absolutely incompatible with Matthew’s accuracy?
There is one other consideration which must suggest itself to the reader
in connection with this story of the guard. It refers to the conduct of
the chief priests and the soldiers themselves. The conduct assigned to
the chief priests in bribing the guard to lie against one whom they must
by this time have known to be under supernatural protection, is contrary
to human nature. The chief priests (according to Matthew) knew that
Christ had said he should rise: in spite of their being well aware that
Christ had raised Lazarus from the dead but very recently they did not
believe that he _would_ rise, but feared (so Matthew says) that the
Apostles would steal the body and pretend a resurrection: up to this
point we admit that the story, though very improbable, is still possible:
but when we read of their bribing the guards to tell a lie under such
circumstances as those which we are told had just occurred, we say that
such conduct is impossible: men are too great cowards to be capable of
it. The same applies to the soldiers: they would never dare to run
counter to an agency which had nearly killed them with fright on that
very selfsame morning. Let any man put himself in their position: let
him remember that these soldiers were previously no enemies to Christ,
nor, as far as we can judge, is it likely that they were a gang of
double-dyed villains: but even if they were, they would not have dared to
act as Matthew says they acted.
And now let us turn to another note of Dean Alford’s.
Speaking of the independence of the four narratives (in his note on Matt.
xxviii., 1–10) and referring to their “minor discrepancies,” the Dean
says, “_Supposing us to be acquainted with every thing said and done in
its order and exactness_, _we should doubtless be able to reconcile_, _or
account for_, _the present forms of the narratives_; but not having this
key to the harmonising of them, all attempts to do so in minute
particulars must be full of arbitrary assumptions, and carry no certainty
with them: and I may remark that _of all harmonies_ those of the
_incidents of these chapters_ are to me the _most unsatisfactory_.
Giving their compilers all credit for the best intentions, I confess they
seem to me to _weaken_ instead of strengthening the evidence, which now
rests (speaking merely _objectively_) on the unexceptionable testimony of
three independent narrators, and one who besides was an eye witness of
much that happened. If we are to compare the four and ask which is to be
taken as most nearly reporting the _exact_ words and incidents, on this
there can, I think, be no doubt. On internal as well as external ground
_that of John_ takes the _highest place_, but not of course to the
exclusion of those parts of the narrative which he _does not touch_.”
Surely the above is a very extraordinary note. The difficulty of the
irreconcilable differences between the four narratives is not met nor
attempted to be met: the Dean seems to consider the attempt as hopeless:
no one, according to him, has been as yet successful, neither can he see
any prospect of succeeding better himself: the expedient therefore which
he proposes is that the whole should be taken on trust; that it should be
assumed that no discrepancy which could not be accounted for would be
found, if the facts were known in the exact order in which they occurred.
In other words, he leaves the difficulty where it was. Yet surely it is
a very grave one. The same events are recorded by three writers (one
being professedly an eye-witness, and the others independent writers), in
a way which is virtually the same, in spite of some unimportant
variations in the manner of telling it, while a fourth gives a totally
different and irreconcilable account; the matter stands in such confusion
at present that even Dean Alford admits that any attempt to reconcile the
differences leaves them in worse confusion than ever; the ablest and most
spiritually minded of the German commentators suggest a way of escape;
nevertheless, according to the Dean we are not to profit by it, but shall
avoid the difficulty better by a simpler process—the process of passing
it over.
A man does well to be angry when he sees so solemn and momentous a
subject treated thus. What is trifling if this is not trifling? What is
disingenuousness if not this? It involves some trouble and apparent
danger to admit that the same thing has happened to the Christian records
which has happened to all others—_i.e._, that they have
suffered—miraculously little, but still something—at the hands of time;
people would have to familiarise themselves with new ideas, and this can
seldom be done without a certain amount of wrangling, disturbance, and
unsettling of comfortable ease: it is therefore by all means and at all
risks to be avoided. Who can doubt that some such feeling as this was in
Dean Alford’s mind when the notes above criticised were written? Yet
what are the means taken to avoid the recognition of obvious truth? They
are disingenuous in the very highest degree. Can this prosper? Not if
Christ is true.
What is the practical result? The loss of many souls who would gladly
come to the Saviour, but who are frightened off by seeing the manner in
which his case is defended. And what after all is the danger that would
follow upon candour? None. Not one particle. Nevertheless, danger or
no danger, we are bound to speak the truth. We have nothing to do with
consequences and moral tendencies and risk to this or that fundamental
principle of our belief, nor yet with the possibility of lurid lights
being thrown here or there. What are these things to us? They are not
our business or concern, but rest with the Being who has required of _us_
that we should reverently, patiently, unostentatiously, yet resolutely,
strive to find out what things are true and what false, and that we
should give up all, rather than forsake our own convictions concerning
the truth.
This is our plain and immediate duty, in pursuance of which we proceed to
set aside the account of the Resurrection given in St. Matthew’s Gospel.
That account must be looked upon as the invention of some copyist, or
possibly of the translator of the original work, at a time when men who
had been eye-witnesses to the actual facts of the Resurrection were
becoming scarce, and when it was felt that some more unmistakably
miraculous account than that given in the other three Gospels would be a
comfort and encouragement to succeeding generations. We, however, must
now follow the example of “even the best” of the German commentators, and
discard it as soon as possible. On having done this the whole difficulty
of the confusion of the four accounts of the Resurrection vanishes like
smoke, and we find ourselves with three independent writers whose
differences are exactly those which we might expect, considering the time
and circumstances in which they wrote, but which are still so trifling as
to disturb no man’s faith.