The fanatics, as described in the second Book of Maccabees, an

apocryphal writing of the second century before Christ, hoped for a

corporeal resurrection and a visible supremacy. Of seven sons, who, with

their mother, were barbarously executed because they refused to deny

their religion by eating swines' flesh, one declares: "The King of the

world shall raise us up who have died for his laws, into everlasting

life;" another, holding forth his hands (to be cut off), said

courageously, "These I had from heaven, and for his laws I despise them,

and from him I hope to receive them again." The next shouts: "It is good

being put to death by men, to look for hope from God, to be raised up

again by him; as for thee, thou shalt have no resurrection to life."

Finally, when all the seven have died heroically, with words of similar

import on their lips, the mother is put to death, having exhorted her

youngest born to faithfulness with the exhortation: "Doubtless the

Creator of the world who formed the generation of man, and found out the

beginning of all things, will also, of his own mercy, give you breath

and life again, as ye now regard not your own selves for his laws'

sake." The same book records the suicide of Razis: "One of the elders of

Jerusalem, a lover of his countrymen, and a man of very good report, who

for his kindness was called a Father of the Jews, for in former times he

had been accused of Judaism, and did boldly jeopard his body and life

with all vehemency for the religion of the Jews;" "choosing rather to

die manfully than to come into the hands of the wicked, to be abused

otherwise than beseemed his noble birth, he fell on his sword.

Nevertheless, while there was yet breath within him, being inflamed with

anger, he rose up, and though his blood gushed out like spouts of water,

and his wounds were grievous, yet he ran through the midst of the

throng, and, standing upon a steep rock, when as his blood was now

quite gone, he plucked out his bowels, and taking them in both his

hands, he cast them upon the throng, and calling upon the Lord of life

and spirit to restore him those again, he thus died."

The angel of the book of Daniel calls up a fairer vision: "Many of them

that sleep in the dust of the earth shall awake, some to everlasting

life, and some to shame and everlasting contempt. And they that be wise

shall shine as the brightness of the firmament; and they that turn many

to righteousness, as the stars for ever and ever."

Something like this, perhaps, was the anticipation of the Christ

sketched in the last chapter. The personal conception is shadowy. There

is nothing to indicate positively that he departed from the usual

opinion of a physical resurrection and a kingdom of heaven on earth, a

period of terrestrial happiness under the rule of Jehovah. The

declaration to the thief on the cross: "This day thou shalt be with me

in Paradise," belongs to a later tradition, corresponding to the ideas

of Paul. The parable of Dives and Lazarus must be assigned to the same

circle of doctrine. The saying respecting children, "Their angels always

behold the face of my father in heaven," conveys no more than the belief

in guardian spirits. The "angels" are not departed children, but the

watchers over the lives of living ones. The reply given to the

Sadducees, in Matt. XXII., "In the resurrection they neither marry, nor

are given in marriage, but are as the angels of God in heaven," implies

that the temporal condition of the Messiah's subjects will differ in

important respects from their present social estate, but does not

suggest a celestial locality for its organization; and the declaration

that follows: "God is not the God of the dead, but of the living,"

affirms merely that Abraham, Isaac and Jacob are not annihilated, that

they are, or will be, alive; but how, where, or when, is left undecided.

The expression, "Thy kingdom come," in the paternoster, so different

from the latter petition: "May we come into thy kingdom," looks towards

an earthly paradise. The succeeding phrase, "Thy will be done on earth

as it is in heaven," points in the same direction. It is probable that

the Christ, living and expecting to live, contemplated the establishment

of his Messianic dominion in Palestine. After his death and

disappearance, the thoughts of his friends turned elsewhither, and with

an increasing steadiness, as his return was delayed, and the

probabilities of their going to him outweighed the probabilities of his

coming to them. The change of expectation was, it is likely, a gradual,

silent, and unperceived one, effected slowly, and not completed till a

new conception of the Christ supplanted the old one, and transformed

every feature of the Messianic belief. In less than twenty-five years

after the death of Jesus, this change was so far effected that it was

capable of full literary expression. The writings that publish it, are

the genuine letters of Paul, and other scriptures produced under the

inspiration of his idea.

VI.

PAUL'S NEW DEPARTURE.

There is reason to think, as we have said, that the first Messianic

impulse would have spent itself ineffectually in a few years, had not a

fresh impulse been given by a new conception of the Messiah. The Christ

outlined in the earliest literature of the New Testament would hardly

have founded a permanent church, or given his name to a distinct

religion. A new conception came, in due time, from an unexpected

quarter, through a man who was both Jew and Greek; Jew by parentage,

nurture, training and genius; Greek by birth-place, residence and

association; a man well versed in scripture, a pupil of approved rabbis,

familiar with the talmud, and deeply interested in talmudical

speculation; a Pharisee of the straitest sect; an enthusiast--yes, a

fanatic by temperament; on the other hand, a mind somewhat expanded by

intercourse with the people and the literature of other nations. Paul's

feeling on the "Christ question" was always intense. He made it a

personal matter, even in his comparative youth; distinguishing himself

by his zeal in behalf of correct opinion on the subject. He appears,

first, a young man, as a persecutor of the Jews who believed that the

Christ had actually come, and who were waiting for his return in clouds.

That idea seemed to him visionary and dangerous; he made it his business

to exterminate it by violence, if necessary. But the fury of his

demonstration proved his interest in the general idea. He was at heart a

Messianic believer, though not in that style. A Messianic believer he

continued to be, but to the end as little as at first, in that style. To

the ordinary belief he never was "converted;" his repudiation of it was

perhaps at no time less vehement than it was at the beginning; as his

own thought matured, his rejection of the faith he persecuted in his

youth, became it seems more deliberate, if less violent.

As he pursued one phase of the Messianic expectation, another aspect of

it burst upon him with the splendor of a revelation, and determined his

career. The man who had breathed fury against one type, became the

apostle of another. The same fiery zeal that blasted the one, warmed the

other into life. In the book of the "Acts of the Apostles," the first

martyr at whose stoning Paul assisted, bore the Greek name "Stephen,"

whence, as well as from other indications, it has been surmised by Baur

and others that he was a precursor of the future "Gentile party,"

pursued and slain by the "orthodox" on account of his infidelity to the

cause of Hebrew national exclusiveness. If this conjecture be admitted,

the deed Paul had abetted, may have been the immediate cause of his own

moral revulsion of feeling. The slain over-came the slayer. The dying

hand committed to the fierce bystander the torch it could carry no

further. The murdered Greek raised up the apostle to the Greeks, thus

avenging himself by sending his adversary to martyrdom in the same cause

for which he himself bled. In religious fervors such reactions have been

frequent.

For Paul was, from first to last, the same person, in no natural feature

of mind or character changed. His religious belief remained essentially,

even incidentally unaltered. A Pharisee he was born, and a Pharisee he

continued. The pharisaic doctrine of the resurrection was the corner

stone of his system, the beginning, middle and end of his faith, the

starting point of his creed. His conception of God was the ordinary

conception, unqualified, unmitigated, uncompromised. The divine

sovereignty never suffered weakening at his hands. One can hardly open

the epistle to the Jewish Christians in Rome, without coming across some

tremendous assertion of the absolute supremacy of God. Read the passage

in the first chapter, 20-26 verses; in the second chapter, 6-12 verses;

in the ninth chapter, 14-23 verses; in the eleventh chapter, first

verse and onward. Read 1 Corin., fifteenth chapter, 24-29 verses. The

old fashioned Jewish conception is expressed in language simply

revolting in its bald inhumanity. The views of Divine Providence set

forth in some of these sentences are anthropomorphitic to a degree that

is amazing in an intellectual man of his age and race. His discussions

of fate and free-will betoken the sternness of a dogmatic, rather than

the discernment of a philosophic, mind. His notion of history has the

narrowness of the national character. His ethics are taken from the law

of Moses, and not from the more benignant versions of it. The grandest

ethical chapter he ever wrote, the twelfth chapter of Romans, contains

no less than three instances of grave infidelity to the highest standard

of morality in his own scriptures. Rabbi Hillel said: "Love peace, and

pursue peace; love mankind, and bring them near the law. The moral

condition of the world depends on three things,--Truth, Justice, and

Peace." Paul says: "If it be possible, _so much as lyeth in you_, live

peaceably with all men," implying clearly that it might not always be

possible, and in such cases was not to be expected. The tacit proviso in

the phrase "so much as lyeth in you," discharges the obligation of its

imperative character; as if conscious that the duty might prove too much

for the moral power, he will not impose it. It is written in the

Talmud: "Thou shalt love thy neighbor; even if he be a criminal, and

has forfeited his life, practise charity towards him in the last

moments." Paul drops far below this when he bids his disciples, "Avenge

not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath" (make room for wrath

that is wrath indeed.) "For it is written, 'vengeance is mine; I will

repay, saith the Lord.'" Therefore (because the Lord's vengeance will be

more terrible than yours), "if thine enemy hunger, feed him: if he

thirst, give him drink; for in so doing, thou shalt heap coals of fire

on his head." That is, by showing kindness you will inflict on him

tenfold agony!

Such a disciple would not adorn the membership of a modern Peace

Society. The language ascribed to him in Ephesians bristles with

military metaphor; "Fight the good fight of faith," "The helmet of

salvation," "The sword of the Spirit," "Armor of light."

In the days of our own anti-slavery conflict, his dictum, "Slaves obey

your masters, in fear and trembling, in singleness of heart," was a

tower of strength and a fountain of refreshment to many an upholder of

the patriarchal system. The later Christians in the West could safely

justify their quiet toleration of the system of slavery in the Roman

Empire by the precepts of the foremost apostle. If the genuineness of

the epistle to Philemon could be maintained, the case would wear a

different look. But it is much more than doubtful whether even that

qualified humanity proceeded from his pen.

In our own generation the apostle is a serious stumbling block in the

way of "evangelical" women who are friendly to the aspirations of their

sex. He showed the most stubborn Hebrew principles on this subject.

"Wives, submit yourselves to your husbands"; "Let your women keep

silence in the churches; if they wish to learn anything, let them ask

their husbands at home; for it is a shame for women to speak in the

church." "It is permitted them to be under obedience." The Hindoo

scripture spoke better: "Where women are honored, there the deities are

pleased. Where they are dishonored there all religious acts become

fruitless."

How can the most conservative Republicans accept as teacher a man who

counsels religious men, in _proportion as they are religious_, to

surrender their full, unqualified, sincere allegiance to established

authorities because they are established, however despotic, ferocious

nay vile they may be; even to such despotisms as that of

Nero;--maintaining that resistance to such is equivalent to resisting

the ordinance of God?--giving this not as the counsel of prudence, but

as the dictate of conscience, thus proclaiming exemption from criticism

or assault, for inhuman tyrannies? Nothing short of this is inculcated

by the sweeping declaration: "Let every soul be subject to the higher

powers: for there is no power but of God; the established powers are

ordained of God." No doubt the bidding was given in view of a turbulent

or insurrectionary spirit among the Israelites in Rome, but it is given

without explanation or limit. It ratifies the divine right of kings:

sanctions the principle that might makes right. Paul was an enthusiast

for ideas; not a theologian, not a social reformer, but one whose zeal

was spent on doctrines. Prevailingly intellectual, his whole nature was

fused by the electric touch of a new thought.

Paul's acquaintance with the Talmud is evidenced by his writings. His

use of allegory, his fanciful analogies, his mystical interpretations,

his play on words, his passion for types and symbols, his ingenious

speculations on history and eschatology, betray his familiarity with

that curious literature. He found a mine of precious material in the

mythical Adam Caedmon, the progenitor, the prototype, the "federal head"

of the race, the man who was not a man but a microcosm, created by

special act from sifted clay; a creature whose erected head touched the

firmament, whose extended body reached across the earth; a being to whom

all save Satan did obeisance; who, but for his transgression, would have

enjoyed an immortality on earth; whose sin entailed on the human race

all the evils, material and moral, that have cursed the world; the

primordial man, who contained in himself the germs of all mankind;

whose corruption tainted the nature of generations of descendants. The

Talmud exhausts speculation on this prodigious personality. The doctrine

of the christian church for fifteen hundred years was not so much

colored as shaped by the rabbis who exercised their subtlety on this

tempting theme. Philo, a contemporary of Paul, is in no respect behind

the most imaginative in his conjectures on this sublime legend. That

Paul, a student of the Talmud, fell in with them, should excite no

surprise. That he added nothing is due probably to the fact that there

was nothing to add.

From the Talmud, also, and from other rabbinical writings, Paul derived

a complete angelology, a department of speculation in which the Jewish

literature after the captivity was exceedingly prolific--Metathron,

Sandalphon, Akathriel, Suriel, were familiar to his mind. It is a bold

suggestion made by Dr. Isaac M. Wise, the Hebrew rabbi fresh from the

Talmud,[1] that Metathron,--[Greek: meta thronon], near the throne,

called by eminent titles, "king of the angels," "prince of the

countenance," impressed Paul's imagination and was the original of his

Christ. Between this supreme angel, co-ordinate with deity and

spiritually akin to him, and the Christ of Paul's conception, the

correspondence seems to be too close to be accidental; so close,

indeed, that some, unable to deny or to confute it, are driven to

surmise that the first conception originated with the apostle. It is

more probable however, though not provable, that the rabbinical idea was

the earlier, and that the apostle took that as well as the Adam Caedmon

from the rabbis. The "prince of angels" precisely met his requirement as

a counter-vailing power to Adam, and supplied a ground for his theory of

the second Adam, the "living spirit," the "Lord from Heaven," the primal

man of a new creation, the first born of a new progeny, the originator

of a "law of life" which should check and counteract the "law of sin and

death." The second Man was the counterpart of the first.

[Footnote 1: Origin of Christianity, p. 335-341.]

He is a man, yet is he no man; his flesh is only "the likeness of sinful

flesh," liable to death, but not implicating the personality in dying.

He is the spiritual, heavenly, ideal man; celestial, glorious, image of

God, translucent, sinless, impeccable; pre-existent, of course; without

father or mother; an expression of divinity; a creator of new worlds for

the habitation of the "Sons of God." His birth is an entrance into

humanity from an abode of light. The mission of this transcendent being

is, in a word, to break the force of transmitted sin, and reverse the

destiny of the race. He imparts the principle of life, which is to

restore all things. A multitude of incidental points are involved in

this fundamental one, points of theology, anthropology, history,

ethics, metaphysics, that present no difficulty to one who has this key.

The long disquisitions on the Mosaic law, the discussions on the

privileges of the Hebrew race and the rights of other races were

necessary. The familiar doctrine of the resurrection derived fresh

interest from association with the general theory, inasmuch as it

supplied a ground-work for the expectation that the glorified One would

reappear; and the hypothesis of a "spiritual" body, ventured and fully

developed by the rabbis, even illustrated by analogies of the "corn of

wheat" which the apostle makes so much of in the fifteenth chapter of I.

Corinthians, supplied all else that was wanting to complete the scheme.

The Christ, being sinless, was held to be incorruptible; death had no

dominion over him, was in fact in his case, an "excarnation," the

preparation for an ascent to the realm of light he came from, and to his

seat at the right hand of his Father, instead of being a descent into

the region of darkness to which mortals are doomed. The doctrine of last

things follows from the doctrine of first things. They who are one with

Christ through faith share his deathlessness. If they die, it is merely

a temporary retirement, in which they await the coming of their Lord,

who will in his own time call them out of their prison house. The larger

number, however, were not, in the apostle's belief, destined to die at

all; but might look as he did, to be transfigured, by the putting off

of their vile bodies, and the putting on of glorious bodies like that

of the great forerunner. In his amplifications on this theme, Paul shows

little originality, and adds nothing important to the material lying

ready to his hand.

The advantage his scheme gave him as a preacher to the Gentiles is too

obvious to be dwelt on. As a Greek by birth and culture, he was

interested in the fate of other nations besides the Jews. A system of

religion adapted to the traditions and satisfactory to the hopes of a

peculiar people,--a national, exclusive religion in the benefits whereof

none but Jews might share, and from whose grace no lineal descendant of

Abraham could be excluded, did not commend itself to this man, half Jew,

half Greek. The faith that obtained his allegiance, and awoke his zeal

must possess a _human_ character by virtue of which its message could be

carried to all mankind. Such a faith his new theory of the Christ gave

him. He could say to his Greek friends: "This religion that I bring you

is no Hebrew peculiarity. Its Christ is no son of David, but a son of

God; its heaven is no Messianic kingdom in Judaea, but a region of light

above the skies; its principle is faith, not obedience to a ceremonial

or legal code; it dispenses entirely with the requirements of the law of

Moses; makes no account of sacrifices or priests; presumes on no

acquaintance with Hebrew scriptures, or reverence for Hebrew men;

questions of circumcision and uncircumcision are trivial and

impertinent. The religion of Christ addresses you as men, not as Jewish

men; it appeals to the universal sense of moral and spiritual infirmity,

and offers a moral and spiritual, not a technical deliverance; instead

of limiting, it will enlarge you; instead of binding, it will emancipate

you; its genius is liberty, through which you are set free from

ceremonialism, ritualism, dogmatism, moralism, and are made partakers of

a new intellectual life."

Not all at once did this scheme unfold itself before the apostle's

vision. Gradually it came to him as he meditated alone, or experimented

with it on listeners in remote places. Naturally, he avoided the

associations of the people he had persecuted, and the teachers they

looked up to. He had nothing to learn from them; he understood their

system and was dissatisfied with it, in short, rejected it. Their Jewish

Messiah, literal, national, hebraic, was not an attractive personage to

his mind. The promise of felicity in a Jewish kingdom of heaven was not

enchanting. The daily life of the believers in Jerusalem was formal,

unnatural, repulsive to one who had "walked large" in foreign cities and

realms of thought. The apostles, Peter, James, John, had nothing

important to tell him that he did not know already. The earthly details

of the life of Jesus might have interested him, but the interior

character and the human significance of the Christ were the main thing,

and these he may have thought himself more in the way of appreciating by

a temporary retirement to the depths of his own consciousness. Having

matured his thoughts, he did put himself in communication with the

original disciples, with what result is frankly stated in his letter to

the Galatians: "To those who seemed to be somewhat (what they were is no

concern of mine, God accepteth no man's person), but who in conference

added nothing to me, I did not give way, in subjection, no, not for an

hour." So heated he becomes, as he remembers this interview, that he can

scarcely write coherently about it. The two conceptions of the Christ

and his office were so far apart, that he did not, to his dying day,

form intimate relations with the teachers of the primitive gospel. They

taught an uncongenial scheme.

From the first, Paul's sphere of action was the Gentile world to which

his message was adapted. If his first appeal was addressed to Jews, it

was simply because Christianity, as he understood it, being an outgrowth

from Jewish thought, a development of Jewish tradition, should naturally

be more intelligible and more welcome to them than to people who had no

historical or literary preparation for it. But he took the broad ground

with them, and addressed his word to outsiders the moment stubbornly

dogmatical Jews declined to receive it on his terms. The attempt made

by the author of the "Acts of the Apostles," to show that Paul modified

or qualified his scheme to bring it into harmony with the older scheme

that he supplanted, fails from the circumstance that the writer discerns

no peculiarity in his theory of the Christ, and consequently misses

completely the ground of any antagonism.

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