Another of the objections brought against the Fourth Gospel that is not
without a certain amount of foundation is that from the nature of the
Discourses. It is said with some degree of truth that the discourses put
into the mouth of our Lord in this Gospel are different from those in
the Synoptics. We notice at once that the parables, which contribute so
much to our conception of the outward form and manner of our Lord’s
teaching, have dropped out. What St. John calls by that name, although
similar, is not exactly the same thing. Many of the discourses are
longer; for instance, that which is apparently addressed to Nicodemus in
chap. iii, the discourse after the healing of the impotent man in chap.
v, the discourse in the synagogue at Capernaum in chap. vi, and the last
discourses in chaps. xiv-xvii. And we observe further that the style of
many parts of these discourses, while it is not like that which we find
in the Synoptic Gospels, corresponds remarkably with the style of St.
John’s Epistles.
It is not the case that the speeches in the Fourth Gospel are
systematically longer than those in the Synoptics. We perhaps have an
impression that they are; but, if so, it is not borne out by the facts.
For the proof of this I may refer to the statistics carefully worked out
by Dr. Drummond on p. 24. There is no doubt that the speeches of our
Lord were, as Justin said, ‘short and concise.’ They had nothing in
common with the elaborate compositions and rounded periods of Greek
rhetoric. The type on which they were modelled was wholly different. We
find the nearest parallel to it in the so-called ‘Sayings of the Jewish
Fathers’ (_Pirke Aboth_). Each saying is a sort of aphorism; and a
longer discourse is only a string of aphorisms, unless it takes the form
of a simple narrative or description, like the parables in the Synoptic
Gospels or allegories, like those of the Good Shepherd and the Vine and
its Branches, in the Fourth Gospel.
One form of discourse, that we may be sure must have been common, is
more fully represented in the Fourth Gospel than in the other three; I
mean the dialogue, and in particular the controversial dialogue, growing
out of some natural occasion, such as those of which I spoke in the last
lecture, the woman of Samaria’s appeal to the patriarch Jacob, the Jews’
demand for a sign like a gift of manna, the practice of circumcising on
the sabbath day, the charge of demoniacal possession and the claim of
the Jews to be Abraham’s children. Instances like these must be set down
to the credit of the Gospel and not against it.
The longer discourses appear to grow out of the aphoristic sayings of
which I have spoken. Of these again Dr. Drummond has made an ample
collection (pp. 18-20). But it is true that the Evangelist permits
himself to dwell on such sayings, to repeat and enforce them by
expansions of his own, which keep coming back to the same point. It has
often been remarked that we are constantly left in doubt where the words
of our Lord end and those of the Evangelist begin. Probably the
Evangelist himself did not discriminate, or even try to discriminate. A
modern writer, in similar circumstances, would feel obliged to ask
himself whether the words which he was setting down were really spoken
or not; but there is no reason to suppose that the author of the Gospel
would be conscious of any such obligation. He would not pause to put to
himself questions, or to exercise conscious self-criticism. He would
just go on writing as the spirit moved him. And the consequence is that
historical recollections and interpretative reflection, the fruit of
thought and experience, have come down to us inextricably blended.
St. Paul was not a historian, or we may be sure that he would have
furnished abundant parallels for the sort of procedure that we find in
St. John. He is not a historian, but he does for once lapse into
history, and he does then furnish a parallel which has always seemed to
me very exact and very illuminating. You will remember in Gal. ii. 11
ff. the account of the dispute with St. Peter at Antioch. The first few
verses are strictly historical; but suddenly and without a word of
warning the Apostle glides into one of his own abstruse doctrinal
arguments as to justification by works of law and by faith.
While therefore I quite allow that in any given instance there is need
for close scrutiny to determine what belongs to the Master and what to
the disciple, I entirely repudiate the inference that St. John cannot
have written the Gospel.
Psychologically, the Gospel is more intelligible if one like St. John
wrote it, one who drew upon his own memories and was conscious of
speaking with authority. It is a mechanical and, I believe, really
untenable view to suppose that the author has simply taken over certain
Synoptic sayings and adapted them to his own ideas. We form for
ourselves a far truer and more adequate conception if we think of these
discourses as the product of a single living experience. They are from
first to last a part of the author’s self. The recollections on which
they are based are his own, and it is his own mind that has insensibly
played upon them, and shaped them, and worked up in them the fruits of
his own experience.
It is this that really constitutes the value of the Gospel. It is not a
mere invention, but it is the result of a strong first-hand impression
of a wonderful Personality. It is a blending of fact and interpretation;
but the interpretation comes from one who had an unique position and
unique advantages for getting at the heart and truth of that which he
sought to interpret. It is the mind of Christ, seen through the medium
of one of the first and closest of His companions.