THEIR INTERNAL STRUCTURE.
This subject is an extremely extensive one. The utmost, therefore, that I
can do is to notice a few of the most important points which bear on the
argument. I have already shown that the general principles of historical
evidence point to the conclusion that the Synoptic Gospels are three
different versions of the primitive apostolical traditions respecting the
actions and the teaching of Jesus Christ, and that even on the assumption
that the dates assigned to them by the opponents are the correct ones
(which however I would by no means be understood as conceding, for all the
internal evidence points to a much earlier period), they were still
composed within the period when such traditions possess the highest
historical value. I must now inquire whether the general structure of
these Gospels confirms this conclusion.
The question therefore at once arises, what is their general character? Do
they present the marks of traditionary history; or of being three works
composed by three different authors, who not only wrote independently of
each other, but who used no common source of information? Do their
narratives present us with the characteristics of historical truth or of
fictitious invention? The facts before us are ample, and they ought to
enable us to return a definite answer to these questions.
The most remarkable trait which first strikes the reader is the presence
of a common narrative interwoven with a considerable amount of matter
peculiar to each Gospel. Many of the events, and several of the discourses
are narrated by all three Evangelists; others by only two. Besides these
common narratives and discourses, which form the larger portion of the
Gospels, each of them contains narratives and discourses peculiar to
itself. While they possess much that is common, it is clear that each
writer had a distinct object in view in the compilation of his Gospel;
that of St. Matthew being chiefly designed for Jewish Christians; that of
St. Luke for Gentile converts, and that of St. Mark occupying an
intermediate place between the two. It was also obviously the object of
the author of St. Matthew’s Gospel to set forth the discourses; of that of
St. Mark’s to give a graphic description of the actions of our Lord. Each
of these Gospels is also distinguished by a number of minor peculiarities.
When the common narrative comes to be closely scrutinized, it presents us
with phenomena more remarkable than any that can be found elsewhere in
literature. These narratives are couched to a considerable extent in the
same words and phrases, closely interwoven with a number of most singular
variations, which have an important bearing on their historical character.
As far as the words are identical, they force on us the conclusion that
they must have been derived from some common origin. These identities are
more striking in the narrative than in the discourses. Three independent
writers, if they intended to hand down the general sense of a body of
discourses, on the supposition that they were in possession of accurate
information, would repeat them to a great extent in the same words. But
that three independent writers, who used no common source of information
in narrating the same occurrences, should have employed the same words to
the extent to which it has been done by the authors of these Gospels is
simply impossible.
But if they had all copied from the same document, these identities of
expression must inevitably have been more complete. It would have been
impossible that they could have been of the capricious character which
they present to us in the pages of the Evangelists. Even in the
narratives, frequent as is the use of the same words, the variations are
numerous; nor are they much less so in the discourses. They are of the
most singular character, and without the smallest apparent purpose.
Sometimes they are simple changes in grammatical construction, or a word
of nearly the same meaning is substituted for another. Then we find one or
more lines, sometimes a whole sentence, transposed. Sometimes words or
lines which are inserted by one Evangelist are omitted by another, the
omission obscuring, and the insertion throwing light on the sense. At
other times, a whole incident is omitted which, if it had been inserted,
would have made an obscure context plain. In the discourses it
occasionally happens that a part of one which we read in the same context
in another Evangelist, and which seems to be required by the connection,
is omitted, when words of nearly the same import have been attributed to
our Lord elsewhere. Again: sayings are reported in which, while many words
are the same, others are varied without any conceivable reason for the
variation. In one or two instances, when words are put into the mouths of
persons different from those to whom they are attributed by another
Evangelist, the grammatical structure is altered to suit the variation. Of
this we have two remarkable examples in the account of the healing of the
Centurion’s servant, and in the narrative of the request which the two
sons of Zebedee and Salome presented to our Lord. The words are precisely
the same, while the grammatical forms differ, according as the one or the
other is regarded as the speaker.
Such are the chief phenomena. But the full extent and character of these
variations, in the closest union as they are with identities of
expression, can only be appreciated by a careful comparison of the
parallel narrative of the Gospels. Numerous, however, as are the
variations, it must be observed that they exert scarcely any appreciable
influence on the general sense. They utterly negate the idea that they can
have originated in any set or deliberate purpose. Let us take for example
the account of the feeding of the five thousand. The Synoptics employ the
very remarkable expression, that after the performance of the miracle, our
Lord _constrained_ the disciples to embark, without giving us a hint of
the reason of so unusual an occurrence. We turn to St. John’s Gospel; he
says not one word about our Lord’s constraining the disciples to embark,
but tells us that the multitude were designing to come and take Jesus by
force and make Him a king. This notice, which is of the most incidental
character, gives as the fullest explanation of an event which would
otherwise have been extremely obscure.
But further: in the account of the miracle itself, one of the Evangelists
tells us, that the numbers who were fed were about five thousand, besides
women and children. How then were the numbers ascertained? and how came it
to pass that the men only were numbered, and neither the women, nor
children? Another Evangelist tells us that the multitude were directed to
sit down in companies by hundreds and by fifties. This at once explains
how the numbers were arrived at. But if this was the case, how came it to
be known that the men were about five thousand; and how came it to pass,
that the women and children were excluded from the total enumeration? Here
again another Evangelist comes to our help; and informs us that although
the order was given to the whole multitude to sit down in companies, those
who actually did so were the ἄνδρες not the ἄνθρωποι, _i.e._ that the men
only sat down, but the women and children did not. This is told us in the
most incidental form, appearing only in the Greek.
This last case is perhaps the most remarkable example in the Gospels, of
the manner in which an incidental variation in one Evangelist throws light
on the obscurities of another. Can such a narrative be otherwise than
historical? This note of veracity is so entirely incidental that it has in
all probability escaped the notice of nine hundred and ninety‐nine out of
every thousand of its readers. There are many others, though less
striking, all of which are of the same incidental character, and it is
impossible to attribute them to design. Surely this can only have resulted
from our being in the presence of facts and not of fiction.
But the variations in the discourses require a further notice. When
variations occur in highly important discourses, it is open to the
suspicion that they have originated in the deliberate purpose of giving a
different doctrinal meaning to the words. But when we closely examine
those in the Gospels, although they are very numerous, we find them of a
purely incidental character, exerting a very inconsiderable influence on
the sense. I am aware that attempts have been made to show that some few
of these variations have originated in design; but these attempts only
prove the straits to which those who make them are driven. Thus in the
account of the Sermon on the Mount as we read it in St. Matthew, the
passage runs: “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven.” In the corresponding passage in St. Luke it runs: “Blessed are
_ye_ poor,” _i.e._ the poor people who were our Lord’s disciples, for the
Evangelist expressly tells us that these words were addressed, not to the
multitude generally, but to them. The supposition that this variation
indicates the presence of something resembling communistic views in the
author of St. Luke’s Gospel is too absurd to be worthy of serious
discussion. Taking them as a whole, these discrepancies create no
appreciable difference in the teaching of Jesus as reported by the
different Evangelists.
One thing respecting them is clear—they bear the strongest testimony to
the historical character of the writings which contain them. It is simply
inconceivable that the authors of the Gospels made them deliberately. They
must have found them in the sources from which they drew their
information. They form one of the strongest proofs that neither a forger,
nor an accommodater of facts for the purpose of making them fit in with
particular doctrinal theories, has had any hand in originating them. In
simple changes in grammatical structure, purpose or design is
inconceivable.
But the variations in narratives, such as those above referred to, are
even more important as constituting an attestation of their historical
reality than variations in discourses. Four separate versions of a
fictitious incident fail to clear up one another’s obscurities. But the
ability to do so is the distinctive mark of imperfect narratives of facts,
told by different witnesses. When two things of a complicated mechanical
construction exactly dovetail into each other, it is a proof that they
have originated in the same mind. In a similar manner, when a number of
distinct narratives, each of which is more or less incomplete, exactly fit
into each other, this constitutes a proof, that they did not originate in
a fiction but in a fact.
An illustration will aid in showing the force of this reasoning. The early
history of Rome is unquestionably of a highly legendary character. We have
two versions of it, one by Livy, and another by Dionysius. These writers
do not give us direct accounts of the primitive legends, but their
narratives are compiled from authors of a much earlier date, who first
reduced them to writing. Still these historians may be viewed as
substantially accurate reporters of the legendary history, as it was
compiled by the earlier writers. An important question therefore arises,
does the twofold account which we possess of these legends, after all the
efforts made by Livy and Dionysius to weave them into a consistent whole,
bear the smallest analogy to the narratives contained in four Evangelists?
It is clear that great disagreements existed among the original
authorities. Let us take any account of the supposed events of three
years—do the variations in the two accounts bear the smallest resemblance
to the singular phenomena which we find in the Evangelists? Will they
dovetail into one another? Will the small additions in one throw light on
the obscurities of the other? Do the speeches present any indications of
being copies of a common original? All these questions must be answered in
the negative. Whence then comes this difference between the narratives of
the Evangelists and the legendary accounts of the origin of the Roman
power? I answer, because the one is founded on fact and the other on
fiction.
It is not my intention to discuss the innumerable theories that have been
propounded as to the origin of the Gospels, for the purpose of accounting
for the common narrative, its variations, and the additions peculiar to
each. Many of these theories violate the principle of common sense; and if
the contrary were not known to be the fact they would suggest the idea
that their authors had never practised the art of literary composition.
Among them I shall only notice the theories which suppose that the
Evangelists had before them one common document when writing their
Gospels; or that one of them had before him the Gospel of another; that
they deliberately copied the common words and phrases, and no less
deliberately made the alterations, additions, and transpositions which the
common narrative presents. Let us take for an illustration the supposition
that the author of Mark’s Gospel had that of Matthew before him, or the
converse. In the one case he must have deliberately retained all the
common words and phrases, after making the most capricious variations and
suppressions. Next, he must have inserted all the little additions which
distinguish the Gospel of St. Mark from that of St. Matthew, and made the
requisite transpositions. But what is still more remarkable, he must also
have taxed his invention to insert in the midst of its impersonal
narrative all those graphic descriptions which impart to Mark’s Gospel the
appearance of ocular testimony. Besides all this he must of set purpose
have omitted nearly all the discourses in which Matthew’s Gospel is so
full, or have placed them in a different context. If, on the other hand,
we suppose that Mark’s Gospel is the original and Matthew’s the copy, the
whole process must be reversed, and above all the author must have
deliberately struck out the graphic portions of Mark, except in one or two
instances, when he has added some of his own. All theories which are
founded on the supposition that the authors of either Gospel used a common
document and deliberately altered it, or that one of them formed his
Gospel out of that of another by a number of additions and subtractions
axe simply incredible.
But the common narrative exists with the identities of expression
interwoven with its variations. How are we to account for this remarkable
fact? The identities of expression must have had a common origin. But what
do the variations prove? Evidently that the narrative had passed through a
period of oral transmission. No other theory can adequately account for
them.
Such variations would naturally spring up in the course of oral
transmission. We have already seen that the circumstances of the Church
rendered such a mode of transmission necessary, as details of our Lord’s
life must have formed regular portions of Christian instruction. In doing
this, variations would inevitably arise. After a while they would assume a
distinctive type in different Churches. If then the Synoptic narratives
are three versions of an oral Gospel handed down in as many Churches, and
put together with additions by their respective authors, this affords a
reasonable explanation of the phenomena which the common narrative
presents. In this case the only thing which involves a difficulty is the
large number of identities preserved by the Evangelists. This proves the
strong hold which the words must have had on the minds of the members of
the different Churches.
The existence of a traditionary narrative is still further proved by the
fourth Gospel. No one can deny that this is an independent record, and
that its origin must have been wholly different from that of the other
three. Yet in those portions which cover common ground with the Synoptics
we meet with phenomena of a similar order, all proving that there must
have been a narrative in existence which had impressed itself indelibly on
the mind of the Church; so much so that an entirely independent writer
fell into the same mode of expression when his subject led him to narrate
incidents common to the other three.
Every consideration which can be brought to bear on this subject tends to
prove the existence of a traditionary narrative of the actions and
teaching of Jesus which was handed down in the Churches prior to the
publication of either of the Synoptic Gospels, and that their common
matter must have passed through a period of oral transmission. It follows
therefore that our three Synoptics are three different versions of the
same oral Gospel modified in the course of transmission and supplemented
by additional information introduced by their respective authors. We know
as a fact that a traditionary narrative maintained its place in the Church
far into the second century. Papias deliberately expressed his preference
for it as compared with written records; and the writings of other Fathers
show their acquaintance with it.
It is clear therefore that a number of traditionary narratives existed in
the Church; and that if a number of persons had set themselves to reduce
these accounts to writing, they would have presented phenomena analogous
to those of the Synoptic Gospels. I have also shown that these Gospels
present all the phenomena which distinguish this species of narrative. The
substantial agreement of the three, both as to facts and as to the
discourses, is a guarantee that the actual traditions of the Church have
been accurately reported. Their diversities also afford the strongest
proof that these reports were composed in perfect independence of each
other.
It is remarkable that the great majority of those against whom I am
reasoning admit that the discourses in the Synoptic Gospels are fairly
accurate representations of the actual utterances of Jesus, although they
must have passed through a period of oral transmission. Yet it is certain
that the accurate transmission of discourses by oral tradition is far more
difficult than that of a report of facts through the same medium. The
difficulty of preventing the intrusion of foreign elements is much
greater. Slight alterations may materially affect their meaning. Yet the
discourses recorded in the Synoptics bear the indelible impress of a
single mind, that of Jesus Christ.(6) It follows therefore that if the
traditions of the Church were able to hand down accurately the discourses
of our Lord until the time when they were reduced to writing, still more
easily would they transmit a correct account of His acts as narrated by
His original followers. Except on account of the antecedent difficulty
with which the miraculous element in the narrative is supposed to be
attended, it would be absurd to accept the one and to reject the other as
mere legendary invention. But having once established the fact of the
Resurrection, the antecedent difficulty of the miracles is effectually
disposed of, and the facts resume their place in history.
It forms no objection to the general argument that some of the Synoptics
contain narratives of considerable length, which are omitted by others. It
was precisely what was to be expected that the traditionary accounts would
vary in this respect, and have incidents reported by different witnesses
of our Lord’s ministry incorporated into them. They abound in the Gospel
of St. Luke, who distinctly states that it is a compilation.
A careful study of the Gospel of St. Matthew must lead to the conclusion
that its narrative portions are derived from the same general sources as
those of the other two. We find in it precisely the same verbal identities
which have been already noticed as affording proof of the existence of a
common source of information, and the same variations which prove that it
must have passed through a period of oral transmission. Nor are the
indications of autoptic testimony stronger in Matthew than in the other
two Evangelists; in fact, they are less so than in Mark. The discourses in
Matthew, viewed as a whole, are a far more complete collection of the
sayings of our Lord, than those in Mark or Luke. It seems to have been one
of the chief purposes of the author of this Gospel to make a collection of
them, and to unite them by a brief narrative of events. But even in the
discourses, some of the variations found in Mark and Luke possess stronger
claims to be regarded as the original form of the utterances of our Lord,
than the corresponding ones in Matthew. In the parts which are common to
the Synoptics, they are evidently founded on one common source of
information; and in this respect neither of them can put in a higher claim
to originality than the other.
Such are some of the chief characteristics of these Gospels, which have
the most intimate bearing on their claims to be regarded as genuine
historical productions. They are accounts of the traditions of the Church
respecting the life and teaching of its Founder at the time when they were
composed. I have already shown, that if they were composed at any time
between the ministry of Jesus Christ and the first twenty years of the
second century, it would have been impossible to have substituted a
legendary narrative for the account which was handed down in the Church. I
am not concerned to prove that no inaccuracies could have crept into these
traditionary accounts. The only question of the smallest importance is,
are they substantially historical? On this question mere minor details,
the order and arrangement of events, or even the introduction of two or
three erroneous accounts, has no more bearing than it has on the general
credit of other histories. Our question is, what is their value as sources
of history? This must be kept perfectly distinct from the question as to
the nature and extent of the inspiration of the writers.
With respect to a large number of alleged discrepancies, their whole force
as objections to the historical character of the Gospels is disposed of by
the simple consideration that their authors assert them to be memoirs, and
not histories. No small number of others can be shown to exist only in the
imagination of those who allege them. A few real difficulties will
probably remain; but these no more invalidate their historical character,
than similar ones which are to be found in every writer “from Herodotus to
Mr. Froude.”
It must not be forgotten that a careful examination of the Gospels
discloses a mass of additional evidence on this subject which is
inconsistent with the idea that their narratives are a mere congeries of
legendary inventions. It would be impossible to investigate it in a work
like the present, or even to give an idea of its value, as shown in the
intimate acquaintance of the authors with the events, ideas, customs, and
general circumstances of the times. To compose such stories out of any
materials which could have been at his hand at the beginning of the second
century, supposing him to have been devoid of all personal knowledge on
the subject, would defy any modern writer of fiction, even one possessed
of the highest genius; not to speak of the incompetence of the ancient
world in this class of literature, rendering the attempts of such writers
as existed among the early Christians simply hopeless.
There are two additional points to which I must draw attention here, in
the internal structure of the Gospels, as establishing their historical
character.
The strongest evidence which the Gospels afford of their being historical
narratives is the unquestionable fact that they contain a delineation of
the greatest of all characters, Jesus Christ our Lord. This character is
there depicted, even in the opinion of unbelievers of the greatest
eminence, with a matchless perfection. Why will they not grapple with the
question of its origin, and show how it is possible that such a character
should ever have found a place in the Gospels, on any theory which they
have propounded to account for their origin? It does not originate in any
formal sketch or delineation. This the Evangelists have nowhere given. It
is the combined result of all the facts and the discourses which they
contain. The whole subject matter of the Gospels is in fact the material
out of which this great character is delineated. How came it there if the
Gospels consist only of a mass of mythic and legendary stories which
gradually accumulated in the Church? How is it possible that a bundle of
legends thus thrown together can have created the perfect character of
Jesus Christ, forming, as it does, an harmonious whole? How has it come to
pass that the authors of our Gospels, if they each composed their
narratives from a mass of fictions which grew up during a period of
seventy years, have each given us a delineation of the same Jesus? These
are problems which have an intimate bearing on the question whether they
belong to the order of historical or fictitious compositions, but with
which unbelief has hitherto most prudently declined to grapple. I shall
not pursue them further here, as I have discussed them fully in the work
already referred to, and shown that the portraiture of Jesus Christ as
delineated in our Gospels is inconsistent with any theory of their origin
which has been propounded by our opponents. To this work I must refer the
reader.
But there is a second character which is harmoniously delineated in the
Gospels, to which I have not alluded in the work above referred to, that
of Simon Peter. This character, though a subordinate one, is also a
perfect delineation of its kind, instinct with historic life. It differs
from that of Jesus Christ in being that of a purely human character,
possessed of many of the virtues and not a few of the frailties of
ordinary human nature. No student of the Gospels can rise from their
perusal without a lively conception of it. If they are historical, the
account of the origin of this second character of which they present us so
perfect a delineation is a very simple one. It is that of a genuine man,
whose actions they have correctly recorded. But if the Gospels are such as
my opponents affirm them to be, I must earnestly put to them the question,
How came this character there also? Each Gospel presents us with a
delineation of Peter. In each the same living man is before us, in all his
virtues and in all his failings. How, I ask, is it possible that the
author of each Gospel has succeeded in creating a character of Simon
Peter—each true to nature and each manifestly a delineation of the same
person—out of a number of fictions, myths, and legends? Can any one affirm
that the Peter of the Gospels presents us with one single trait of a
character formed by legend?
But the existence of this delineation in each of the Gospels involves
those with whom I am reasoning in a yet further difficulty. The New
Testament contains a fifth delineation of the character of Simon Peter,
professedly drawn by himself. I allude to his first Epistle. This
unbelievers say is not his genuine production, though the external
evidence for it is strong. In either case it will be equally available for
my argument. If it was written by him, it is separated by an interval of
from thirty to forty years from the Peter of the Gospels. After such a
period of time we ought to find the same substantial lineaments of
character, but chastened, improved, and softened by the influence of
Christianity. This is precisely what we do find. The Peter of the Epistle
is the Peter of the Gospels, in all the substantial elements of his
character, but raised to a greater moral elevation. The Peter of the
Gospels is the Peter of youthful aspirations, who has had little
experience of the trials and struggles of human life. The Peter of the
Epistle while continually reminding us of the Peter of the Gospels, is a
deeply softened man, with many of his infirmities changed into the graces
to which they are allied.
Now if the four Peters of the Gospels are fictions, how have their
inventors succeeded in delineating him true to his youthful character, and
true to human nature? If, on the other hand, the Peters of the Gospels and
of the Epistle are all five creations of the imagination, the difficulty
is increased to impossibility. How was it possible for the forger of the
Epistle to have delineated a Peter who should be true to the legendary
character of the Peter of the Gospels, and at the same time such an
improved version of it as would naturally result from the trials of
between thirty and forty years spent in the service and in attempts to put
in practice the teaching of his Master? It follows, therefore, that the
five portraitures of Simon Peter presented us in the New Testament, are so
many distinctive proofs that the Gospels are historical realities, and not
the mere offspring of the imaginations of their respective authors.
I am now in a position to restore the Gospels to their place in history,
and to estimate the value of their testimony. The Synoptics are so many
versions of the traditions, preserved in the different Churches during the
first century, of that portion of the life and teaching of Jesus which
formed the groundwork of Christianity. Such an account, more or less full,
must have been handed down from the first origin of the Church. This
account received enlargements from different narrators who had been
witnesses of different events of our Lord’s life and ministry; but so
completely was it interwoven with the daily course of Christian life, that
it is impossible that matters inconsistent with its fundamental conception
can have become incorporated with it. Moreover, the whole period lay
within the limits of time during which traditions are strictly historical.
No community ever existed which had equal facilities for handing down
accurately the events of its Founder’s life, or had stronger inducements
to do so. The Church was struggling for existence, and seeking to
assimilate to itself the elements by which it was surrounded. This alone
must have kept steadily in its memory the leading events of the life of
Jesus. These, as we have seen, must also have formed the subjects in which
its converts were habitually instructed. Jesus Christ, to use the
expressive language of St. Paul, must have been to the primitive Christian
community from the hour of its birth “all and in all.”
From the various direct and indirect references in St. Paul’s Epistles we
can form a general idea of the life and teaching of Jesus, as it must have
been accepted by the Churches to which he wrote. All the outlines
furnished by these Epistles may be traced in our present Gospels. If we
descend to a still later period, we shall find that accounts,
substantially the same, were spread over the entire Church. Even if it is
true that the early Ecclesiastical writers do not cite the Gospels, it is
evident that they were in possession of accounts, either written or
unwritten, which were for all practical purposes the same. It follows,
therefore, that as the Synoptics contain three versions of the ministry of
Jesus which were handed down by the Churches of the first century, their
claim to the character of historical documents substantially accurate in
all their main features is unquestionable.
Nothing is more lamentable than the manner in which a number of minute
verbal questions have been introduced into this great controversy. Both
parties have freely indulged in it. The life of Christianity has been made
to depend on whether some passage in a particular Father bears a precise
verbal agreement with another passage to be found in our present Gospels.
Such matters may be interesting as mere literary questions, but surely
they are not worthy to be dignified by the title of historical ones. To
represent the life of Christianity as depending on them, is to leave the
broad basis of historical investigation, and descend to the mere
technicalities of legal evidence, by which the parties who are most
capable of throwing light on the case are excluded from giving evidence at
all, while many minor points are debated with the utmost ardour. I desire
to express no opinion as to whether this is right or wrong in judicial
processes; but the principles of history are widely different. All
evidence must be accepted for what it is worth, and for no more. The
issues are great ones, and are not dependent on any mere set of barren
technicalities.
Christianity is not only one of the greatest facts in history, but the
greatest; and its truth or falsehood can never be dependent on whether a
passage more or less in Justin Martyr is an accurate citation of another
in St. Matthew’s Gospel. The only questions of real importance are: Do the
numerous references of the early Christian writers to the life and
teaching of Jesus Christ substantially agree with the accounts of that
life and teaching given in our Gospels? Do they contain any account which
gives a really different version of it? If such agreement exists, although
there may be minor differences, the matter is settled as an historical
question. The Gospels, in all their great outlines, are virtually accurate
accounts of the traditions of the primitive Church respecting the actions
and the teaching of its Founder, and as such they satisfy all the
conditions of history.
It is impossible that I should in this place enter on the question of the
authorship or the date of the Fourth Gospel. The literature on this
subject would fill a library of no mean size. I shall only refer to Mr.
Sanday’s able vindication of its historical character. One thing
respecting it is clear. It is either the veritable work of an eye‐witness
of the facts which it records, or it is a consummate fiction, such as can
be found nowhere else, either in the ancient or the modern world. Its
author must have united a fixed determination to perpetrate a forgery on a
most sacred subject, with one of the loftiest ideals of morality, and an
inimitable power of simple description, and of inventing fictitious scenes
in a manner which is in the highest degree true to human nature. If this
work was really written by a person who was not a Jew, one hundred and
fifty years after the events which are described in it, and a century
after the destruction of Jerusalem, the accuracy of its descriptions is
one of the most singular phenomena in literary history. Wherever it runs
parallel with the Synoptic Gospels, it throws light on their obscurities
without the smallest apparent intention of doing so. In some places it
helps to correct erroneous impressions into which the reader of the
Synoptic narratives might otherwise have fallen. Even in that most
striking disagreement between them, respecting the Paschal character of
the Last Supper, we find in the Synoptics hints which corroborate St.
John’s account of it. One simple alternative, and one only, lies before
us; either to accept this Gospel as a history of the highest authority, or
to reject it as an audacious forgery.
It now remains for me very briefly to consider the value of the testimony
of the Gospels to the truth of the Resurrection.
If one thing more than another is evident respecting them, it is that they
were not written for the purposes of controversy with unbelievers, but for
the instruction of Christians. It is certain that the last thing which
occurred to their authors was to guard their narratives against possible
objections. This is made clear by every page. At the time when they were
composed, the Resurrection had long been accepted by the entire body of
believers, as the foundation of their faith. It was therefore not
necessary for the Gospels to prove it, as it would have been if they had
been composed with a direct view to unbelievers. This is a point which it
is important to bear in mind in considering the nature of their testimony.
Two of the narratives of it are entirely incidental; and it is quite clear
that their authors never intended to give an exhaustive account of the
facts. The other two, though giving us more details, participate largely
in the same character. It is impossible to read either narrative with care
and not feel that it was never intended to be a systematic account of all
the facts with which the author was acquainted respecting the
Resurrection.
It is objected against these narratives that they abound with variations,
amounting to contradictions. The variations are unquestionable, and it
will readily be conceded that it is extremely difficult to piece together
all the details of the existing accounts so as to weave them into an
harmonious whole. In fact they are inevitable whenever the incidents
described are of exciting interest. Such must have been the character of
those connected with the Resurrection.
The chief difficulty is found in the details of the morning of that
important day. They are in an extremely fragmentary form, and it is quite
clear that we have not all the events before us. If we had, we should then
be in a position to judge what is the precise nature of the variations in
the minor details. But even if contradictions could be proved to exist,
how does their presence invalidate the main facts, whose truth is
established by wholly independent testimony? The only way in which it can
be made to do so is by mixing up questions involving particular theories
of inspiration with considerations purely historical. Such discrepancies
exist in connection with some of the most important facts of history in
their minor details, without in the smallest degree invalidating their
historical credibility.
This may be easily tested by examining a number of newspaper accounts of
any exciting event, which are derived from reporters entirely independent
of each other. One witnesses one thing, and one another; and it is often
difficult to weave the whole into a perfectly consistent narrative. No one
can doubt that the morning of the Resurrection must have been one in the
last degree exciting to the disciples of our Lord. They were not mere
reporters, but persons profoundly interested in the various occurrences.
It would therefore have been inconsistent with the historical truth of
their position, if their narratives had presented us with no variations.
It is certain that several women accompanied our Lord on His last journey
to Jerusalem. What was more likely than that they would visit the
sepulchre at different times, and with different purposes? Can any one
doubt that their excitement must have been great? What conceivable
difference can it make to the great fact of the Resurrection, that one
account mentions two Marys as going to the sepulchre; that the second adds
to these Salome; that the third mentions several women; and that the
fourth mentions Mary Magdalene alone? There might have been, as far as
anything which appears in the narratives is concerned, several different
visits; or the same person may have returned more than once. Or what is
the use of urging that there is an apparent variation of about an hour
between the different accounts, as to the precise time when these visits
were made? Do variations of this description, which are found in accounts
derived from eye‐witnesses of Louis XVI’s flight from Paris, in the
smallest degree invalidate the fact? Or what conceivable difference does
it make that one narrative represents the women as seeing one angel, and
another two; and that one describes the appearance as taking place inside,
and another outside the sepulchre? It is quite possible that all these
accounts may be true, and that these occurrences took place on different
occasions. If they were true, nothing was more unlikely than that the
women could have given an orderly narrative of them. Variations must occur
in all reports of events when the witnesses see only a portion of them.
The great facts before us are plain and evident; and unless they are
falsehoods, there could be no possibility of mistake respecting them.
Different bodies of women found the sepulchre empty. Some of them affirmed
that they had seen Jesus risen from the dead, and that He sent a message
by them to His disciples. Peter and John visited the sepulchre, and found
it empty. Later in the same day, Peter affirmed that Jesus Christ appeared
to him; on which day also two other disciples affirmed that they had seen
Him on a journey, at first without recognizing Him, but that they did so
afterwards. On the evening of the same day, these two disciples, ten of
the Apostles, with other persons in company, saw Him in a body, and were
permitted to test the reality of His Resurrection by handling His Person,
and by seeing Him eat. About such facts there could be no mistake. Most of
them were well known and accepted when St. Paul wrote his Epistles, when
the means of testing their truth was ample. We know on the same authority
that the whole apostolic body asserted that they had seen the Lord, and
that as many as five hundred other persons made a similar assertion. These
are the chief facts, and a number of minor variations such as those above
referred to cannot affect their credibility.
It has been objected that the author of St. Matthew’s Gospel was ignorant
of some of these appearances. On what ground is the objection made? On the
fact that he has not mentioned them? Does a writer always report all he
knows, especially when his writing is intended for the use of those who
firmly believe the fact already? Nothing can exceed the fragmentary
character of this portion of his narrative. If this Gospel was composed at
the late period assigned to it by those against whom I am reasoning,
namely, A.D. 90, it is incredible that these were the only facts known to
the writer, at least thirty years after St. Paul wrote his Epistles. The
charge of ignorance might be sustained with far greater plausibility if it
were admitted that St. Matthew was the author of this Gospel, because it
might have been expected that he would mention the first occasion on which
his Master had appeared to him rather than the third. But his authorship
is denied, and the publication of the Gospel assigned to the last ten
years of the century, when it was impossible that the author, whoever he
may have been, could be ignorant that it was alleged that our Lord had
appeared on other occasions besides those mentioned by him.
I will now consider the threefold account of the great appearance on the
morning of Easter‐day. One of them is contained in the supplement to St.
Mark’s Gospel; the other two are those in Luke and John. Let us first
carefully observe the mode in which they are narrated in the supplement.
Its author seems to have entertained a stronger view of the indisposition
of the disciples to believe the truth of the Resurrection than the other
two narratives appear to warrant. He first notices the appearance to Mary
Magdalene on the morning of that day, and says that the disciples refused
to credit her report. Next, he tells us of the appearance to the two
disciples as they went into the country; and states that on their return
they told it to the remainder, “_Neither believed __ they them._”
“Afterward,” he adds, “he appeared _to the eleven as they sat at meat, and
upbraided them with their unbelief and hardness of heart, because they
believed not those who had seen him after he was risen_.” It is evident
that the author of the supplement entertained a strong view of the
incredulity of the disciples when their companions reported to them the
fact of the Resurrection.
Let us now examine how the facts stand in Luke’s narrative. It opens with
a detailed account of the journey into the country of Cleopas and his
companion, and of our Lord’s appearance to them. Our Lord addresses them
in the following words: “_O fools and slow of heart,_” (Ω ἀνόητοι, καὶ
Βραδεῖς τῇ καρδίᾳ) “_to believe all that the prophets have spoken._” After
their recognition of Jesus, they are described as immediately returning to
Jerusalem, “_and find the eleven gathered together and those that were
with them, saying, the Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared unto
Simon._” “_And they_” (_i.e._ Cleopas and his companion) “_told what
things were done on the way, and how he was known unto them in the
breaking of bread._” The narrative then proceeds: “_And as they thus
spake,_” (_i.e._ Cleopas and his companion) “_Jesus himself stood in the
midst of them, and said unto them, Peace be unto you._” It then informs us
that they were terrified and supposed that the appearance was that of a
spirit. On this our Lord reasons with them: “_Why are ye troubled, and why
do thoughts arise in your hearts? Behold my hands and my feet that it is I
myself, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones as ye see me have. And when
he had thus spoken, he showed them his hands and his feet._” The writer
then adds: “And when they yet believed not for joy and wondered, he said
unto them, Have ye here any meat? And they gave him a piece of a broiled
fish, and of an honey‐comb, and he took it and did eat before them.” The
author then proceeds with his narrative: “These are the words that I spake
unto you, while I was yet with you, that all things might be fulfilled
that are written in the law of Moses, and in the prophets and in the
Psalms concerning me.” And he adds: “_Then opened he their understanding,
that they might understand the Scriptures._”
The following is the account given of the same meeting in St. John’s
Gospel. After having given a full description of the appearance to Mary
Magdalene, he thus describes our Lord’s appearance on the evening of
Easter‐day: “Then the first day at evening, being the first day of the
week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear
of the Jews, _came Jesus and stood in the midst, and said unto them, Peace
be unto you. And when he had so said, he showed them his hands and his
side._ Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord. _Then said
Jesus unto them again, Peace be unto you: as my Father hath sent me, even
so send I you. And when he had said this he breathed on them, and said,
Receive ye the Holy Ghost._”
The difference between the supplement of Mark’s Gospel and the narratives
of Luke and John is very remarkable. Are the variations such as would be
found in different reports of a set of fictions, or are they such as
distinguish brief but inexact reports of actual occurrences? This is a
very important question.
First: the three accounts bear the clearest indications of being
independent. It is incredible that any one of the three writers having
before him one or both of the other two accounts should have composed his
own as it now stands.
Secondly: the author of the supplement uses very strong language in
describing the unbelief of the disciples. He says that when they told it
to the others, they did not believe their report. St. Luke, on the other
hand, informs us that as soon as Cleopas and his companion entered the
room where on their return they found the Apostles and others assembled
together, they were received with the exclamation: “_The Lord is risen
indeed, and hath appeared unto Simon._”
Again: the author of the supplement says that when Jesus appeared to the
eleven as they sat at meat “_he upbraided them with their unbelief and
hardness of heart_ (ὠνείδισε τὴν ἀπιστίαν αὐτῶν καὶ σκληροκαρδίαν)
_because they did not believe them that had seen him after he was risen._”
St. Luke tells us that not only were Cleopas and his companion received
with the joyful exclamation, “_The Lord is risen indeed_,” but instead of
upbraiding them Jesus addressed them with the words “_Peace be unto you_;”
which is confirmed by the author of the fourth Gospel, who, if St. John
was really the author, must have been present. In neither of these Gospels
is there one word of “upbraiding the disciples with unbelief;” while both
affirm that Jesus proceeded to give them rational grounds for believing
that He was actually risen from the dead, by showing them, according to
one, “his hands and his feet,” according to the other, “his hands and his
side.” It is quite probable that He may have done both. St. John adds,
“_Then were the disciples glad when they saw the Lord._”
But St. Luke’s account is more specific. He tells us that immediately on
His entry fear took possession of their minds. “_They were terrified and
affrighted_,” and supposed that it might be a spirit, and not Jesus
actually raised from the dead. Our Lord therefore before showing them His
hands and His feet proceeded to reason with them as to the reality of His
appearance. “_Handle me and see, for a spirit hath not flesh and bones __
as ye see me have._” Here there is nothing of reproach, such as is
suggested by the supplement to St. Mark’s Gospel. Yet there was
incredulity of a certain kind in the room, but not one which was worthy of
reproach. We learn from St. Luke that it was not the incredulity of
_unbelief, but of joy_; in other words, that the news seemed too good to
be true, and they dared scarcely trust the evidence of their senses. On
this however nothing in the form of a _reproach_ passes the lips of Jesus;
but for their further satisfaction, _he asks for food and eats it before
them_.
On all these points the narratives of St. Luke and St. John throw light on
each other, as such accounts, if founded on fact, ought to do, while their
independence is indisputable. According to those with whom I am reasoning,
the Gospel of St. John is much the latest written. If therefore the author
had borrowed from Luke, it is incredible that a writer who had such powers
of setting forth fictions in the garb of facts, should have omitted the
other remarkable incidents mentioned by St. Luke, and not have dressed
them up with the art of which he was so consummate a master, for these
would have communicated a striking reality to the scenes. It is therefore
unquestionable that these two accounts present all the phenomena of
history, and none of those of fiction.
But how stands the continuation of St. Mark’s Gospel, which affirms that
our Lord upbraided the eleven with their unbelief and hardness of heart on
the occasion of His appearance on Easter evening?
The author of the supplement was probably not aware that Cleopas and his
companion were present in the room when our Lord appeared to the eleven,
or even that others besides the eleven were present, as is expressly
affirmed by St. Luke to have been the case. The impression which it leaves
on the mind is that they reported the Resurrection to the disciples
generally on their return, and that it was disbelieved by them, and that
the appearance to the eleven was a subsequent event.
We are now in a position to see how this misapprehension may have
originated; and that instead of invalidating the account, it forms a
strong confirmation of its truth. There were persons in the room whom our
Lord had actually reproached for their unbelief, viz. Cleopas and his
companion; though He reproached none who were present on the occasion of
His appearance. The words stated by St. Luke to have been used by Him
were, Ω ἀνόητοι καὶ Βραδεῖς τῇ καρδίᾳ, “O fools and slow of heart.” Those
used in St. Mark in describing the address to the eleven are ὠνείδισε τὴν
ἀπιστίαν αὐτῶν καὶ σκληροκαρδίαν, “He upbraided their unbelief and
hardness of heart.” The one expression is the very counterpart of the
other. There were persons present who had been thus reproached but a few
hours before: the author of the continuation was aware of the fact that
some had been thus reproached, and he supposed that the reproach was
addressed to all the assembled disciples, instead of the salutation of
peace with its attendant circumstances.
Then as to their having been received with expressions of incredulity on
their return, St. Luke tells us that they returned to Jerusalem, “_and
found the eleven gathered together, and them that were with them._” Now as
they had set out early in the day, it was necessary on their return that
they should make some inquiry as to where the Apostles were to be found.
In doing this it is probable enough that they went to inquire of some
disciples who received their account with incredulity, and that then this
incredulity may through misapprehension have been transferred to the whole
assembly. I submit therefore that notwithstanding this disagreement
between the three accounts, that of the continuation of St. Mark’s Gospel
gives a strong corroboration of the statements of the other two. These are
precisely the kind of variations which we find in reports of events after
they have passed through a few stages of oral transmission.
The narratives of St. Luke and St. John furnish us with one more very
incidental confirmation of each other. St. Luke informs us that on the
occasion of this interview our Lord “_opened their understanding, that
they might understand the Scriptures._” St. John says that “_He breathed
on them, and said, Receive ye the Holy Ghost._” The words and the mode of
expression differ greatly; but both statements point to one and the same
fact, that on this occasion the persons present supposed that they
received a supernatural enlightenment. St. Luke describes the effect
produced on the minds of the disciples; St. John gives the actual medium
of its production. Coincidences of this kind prove that the narratives
must be founded on facts, and are beyond the skill of a forger to imitate.
I have now considered a few of the leading features of the Gospels, which
establish the general historical character of their contents. A close
examination of them would put us in possession of a large amount of
additional evidence, but to enter on such an inquiry here would be
inconsistent with the limits of the present work. As I have already
observed, the minute scrutiny of a number of minor details, as far as the
great historical question is concerned, would be a needless expenditure of
labour. The real question at issue is: Is the account of our Lord’s life
and teaching, as it is handed down in our present Gospels, substantially
true in its great outlines, or has one of a wholly different character
been substituted for the true one, and usurped its place in the teaching
of the Church? On a broad question of this kind, minor discrepancies in
the accounts have no real bearing. If the narrative is true in its great
outlines, it follows that our Lord’s character must have been beyond all
question superhuman, and justifies us in affirming that He must have been
a “teacher come from God.” Such a conclusion will still leave open a
number of questions of the deepest importance, but they belong to the
province of theology to investigate, and form no necessary portion of an
historical inquiry. If the Gospels _in their broad outlines_ are
historical; above all, _if Jesus Christ rose from the dead_, it follows
that the New Testament must contain a divine revelation.
As this last fact forms the central position of Christianity, I have made
its historical truth the chief subject of my investigation. In doing this
I have relied only on documents which are contained in the New Testament
itself, and chiefly on those whose genuineness is conceded by opponents. I
have shown that no species of documents can possess a higher historical
value than these, and that the circumstances under which they were
written, the nature of their contents, and the persons to whom they were
addressed, form an attestation to the truth of the facts asserted in them,
which is unrivalled in the whole course of literature. By means of these I
have firmly established the fact that the belief in the Resurrection of
Jesus Christ was the foundation on which the Church rested as a community
from the first dawning of its existence, and the basis of the life of its
individual members; and that considerable numbers of the followers of
Jesus Christ affirmed that they had seen and conversed with Him after He
had risen from the dead. I have shown that these facts rest on the highest
form of historical attestation. This being so, there can be only two
alternatives respecting them. Either the belief in the Resurrection was
founded on the fact that He actually rose from the dead; or it must have
originated in the delusions of His followers. I have shown that the
various theories which have been propounded to account for it on the
latter supposition, when tested by the actual facts, are untrue both to
human nature and to the possibilities of the case. From this it results,
as a necessary consequence, that JESUS CHRIST ROSE FROM THE DEAD. If He
rose from the dead, the truth of His divine mission is established, and
His claim to be the King and supreme Legislator of the Church is
vindicated. This claim may be fully set forth in two sayings of His own,
recorded in St. John’s Gospel: “I am the light of the world; he that
followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of
life.” (xiii. 12.) “Thou sayest that I am a king. For this end was I born,
and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear witness unto
the truth. Every one that is of the truth heareth my voice.” (xviii. 37.)
The practical conclusion which this investigation suggests cannot be
better expressed than in the words of the same divine Teacher: “He that
believeth, believeth not on me, but on Him that sent me; and he that seeth
me seeth Him that sent me. I am come, a light into the world, that
whosoever believeth on me should not abide in darkness. And if any man
hear my words, and believe not, I judge him not; for I came not to judge
the world, but to save the world. He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not
my words, hath one that judgeth him; the word that I have spoken, the same
shall judge him in the last day.”
THE END.
FOOTNOTES
1 My quotations throughout this work are taken from the first edition.
The passage here quoted is somewhat altered in the third edition,
but not so as to affect the general meaning.
2 The word which is here translated in the A. V. “miracles” is in the
original σημεῖα.
3 J. S. Mill, in his recently published essays, considers this the
most formidable objection against theism.
4 See for example, Matt. v. 39‐42, Luke vi. 20, 21, 24‐26, and various
others of a similar description.
5 “The Jesus of the Evangelists.”
6 Mr. Mill, in his recently published Essay on Theism, has strongly
expressed his belief that these discourses are the veritable
utterances of Jesus.