implies nothing of the kind.[77] The _gift of tongues_, which St. Paul,
though possessed of it in the highest degree,[78] places in the lowest
rank of spiritual gifts,[79] and which he expressly discriminates from
“the word of wisdom,” and “the word of knowledge,”[80] is the only
preternatural effect there ascribed to this new influence. Other
passages descriptive of this agency equally fall short of this claim of
infallibility. We read, for example,[81] that by the direction of the
Apostles, seven persons were to be selected from the general body of
believers, who were to be men “full of the Holy Ghost, _and
wisdom_,”—the two attributes being distinguished. It must be supposed,
too, that the qualifications demanded of these officers had some
proportionate reference to the duties assigned. These duties were simply
the management of the society’s financial accounts, and the distribution
of its eleemosynary funds. When it is said that John the Baptist should
“be filled with the Holy Ghost, even from his mother’s womb,”[82] are we
to understand, that from earliest infancy he was infallible?—he who, in
the very midst of his ministry, sent to Jesus for information on this
question, “Art thou he that should come, or do we look for
another?”[83]—a question, be it observed, which implies doubt on the
great subject-matter of the Baptist’s whole mission. Perhaps, however,
it will be admitted that there are inferior degrees of this inspiration;
so that passages like this may be found, in which the phrases denoting
it are used in a lower sense. But, it will be said, in its highest
intensity it cannot be so restricted, and is even distinctly affirmed to
involve infallibility. The operations of the spirit of God are
distributed by theologians into two classes,—the extraordinary,
experienced by the apostles, and exempting them from liability to
error,—the ordinary, which are assured to all true disciples, and whose
office implies no further illumination of the understanding, than is
needful for the sanctification of the heart. Now if this statement and
division be really true and scriptural, we shall doubtless find Christ
and his Apostles separating their promises of divine influence into two
corresponding sets; keeping things so different, clear of all confusion;
and fully as exact in this “discerning of spirits,” as their modern
disciples. But so far is this from being the case, that between the
_greater spirit_ of the twelve apostles, and the _less spirit_ of the
general church, no distinction whatever is drawn; nor any between the
_intellectual infallibility_ which was to await the apostles, and the
_spiritual sanctification_ promised to the faithful multitude of all
ages. Nay, it so happens, that the most unlimited expressions relating
to the subject occur in such connections, that they cannot be confined
to the apostles, but obviously apply to all private Christians. For
instance, shall we say that our Lord’s promise of the “Comforter, which
is the Holy Ghost,” explained by the remarkable synonym which he
appended, “_the spirit of truth_” which should “_teach them all
things_,” and “_lead them into all truth_”—implies universal
illumination of the understanding? Close at hand is a clause forbidding
the interpretation, by spreading the promise over all ages of the
church; “I will pray the Father, and he will give you another Comforter,
_that he may abide with you for ever, even the spirit of truth_;”[84]
and the expression is accordingly quoted by Dr. Wardlaw, as descriptive
of the common operations of the spirit.[85] Again, St. John in his first
_General Epistle_ (addressed of course to the whole church) says, “Ye
have an unction from the Holy One, and _ye know all things_.”[86] Take
then the strongest and most unqualified expressions on this subject, and
if they prove the infallibility of the apostles, they prove the same of
all private Christians. Or, take those which show sanctification to be
the characteristic office of the Holy Spirit with respect to the general
church, and you show that this also was its agency on the Apostles.
One or two texts are occasionally adduced in defence of this doctrine;
their paucity and inapplicability show how slight is the scripture
foundation on which it rests. By far the most remarkable of these is
found in 2 Tim. iii. 16. “All scripture is given by inspiration of God,
and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for
instruction in righteousness.” Now observe,
1. That the verb _is_, which constitutes the whole affirmation here, has
nothing corresponding to it in the Greek, and is put in by the English
translators. Of course the sentence requires a verb _somewhere_, but the
place of its insertion depends on the discretion of the translator.
Baxter, Grotius, and other critics, accordingly render the passage thus:
“All scripture, given by inspiration of God, is also profitable,” &c.
The Apostle has already been reminding Timothy of the importance of
those scriptures with which he had been acquainted from his youth, to
his _personal faith_: and he now adds, that they are _also_ useful for
his _public teaching_. He therefore simply says that whatever scriptures
are given by inspiration of God, are thus profitable.
2. Since Paul first speaks generally of those scriptures with which
Timothy had been familiar from his youth, and then proceeds to select
from these a certain class, as given by inspiration of God, his
description extends to no portion of the New Testament, and only to some
writings of the Old. The purpose for which he recommends them, indicates
what books were in his thoughts. As they were to aid Timothy in his
public duty of convincing his countrymen that Jesus was the Messiah, he
refers to those books which had sustained the expectation of a
Messiah,—the Jewish Prophets. “The whole extent of his doctrine, I
conceive to have been expressed by the Apostle Peter thus: ‘prophecy
came not in old time by the will of men; but holy men of God spake,
moved by the Holy Spirit;’[87]—that those also who recorded these
_speeches_, _wrote_ by the Holy Spirit; that, in addition to the
superhuman message, there was a superhuman report of it, is a notion
which no trace can be found in the apostolic writings. The whole amount,
therefore, of the Apostle’s doctrine is this; that the prophets had a
preternatural knowledge of future events; and that their communications
were recorded in the prophetic books. By the admission of these points,
the theory of _inspired composition_ obviously gains nothing.”[88]
No appeal can be more unfortunate for the advocate of plenary
inspiration, than to the writings of the great apostle of the Gentiles.
Not a trace can be found in them of the cold, oracular dignity,—the
bold, authoritative enunciation,—the transcendental exposition, equally
above argument and passion, in which conscious and confessed
infallibility would deliver its decisions. All the natural faculties of
the man are shed forth, with most vehement precipitation, on every page.
He pleads with his disciples, as if kneeling at their feet. He
withstands Peter to the face,—though no less inspired than
himself,—because he was to be blamed for unsound sentiments and
inconsistent conduct. He hurries so eagerly, and sinks so deep into an
illustration, that scarcely can he make a timely retreat. He too quickly
seizes an analogy to apply it with exactitude and precision. And above
all, he is incessantly engaged in _reasoning_: and by that very act, he
selects as his own the common human level of address,—generously submits
his statements to the verdict of our judgment, and leaves that judgment
free to accept or to reject them. Nor is it on mere subordinate points
that he contents himself with this method, which, by challenging search,
abandons infallibility. The great controversies of the infant church,
which involved the whole future character of Christianity, which decided
how far it should conciliate Polytheism, and how much preserve of
Judaism, the apostle of the Gentiles boldly confides to reasoning: and
his writings are composed chiefly of _arguments_, protective of the
Gospel from compromise with Idolatry on the one hand, and slavery to the
Law on the other.
Nor is this denied by any instructed divine of any church. In insisting
“upon the duty of professed Christians to abstain from all compliance
with the idolatrous practices of the heathens around them,” says Dr.
Tattershall, “St. Paul, even though an inspired Apostle, does not
proceed upon the mere dictum of authority, but appeals to the _reason_
of those to whom he writes; and calls upon them to reflect upon the
inconsistency of such conduct, with the nature of their Christian
profession. In fact, he produces _arguments_, and desires them to weigh
the reasons which he assigns, and see whether they do not fully sustain
the conclusion which he draws from them. ‘I speak,’ says he, ‘as to
_wise_ men, JUDGE YE what I say.’”[89]
If then the Apostle wrote his letters under inspiration, have we not
here direct authority to sit in judgment on the productions of
inspiration, or _the contents of the word of God_; not merely to learn
what is said, but to consider its inherent reasonableness and truth? No
one, indeed, can state more forcibly than Dr. Tattershall himself the
principle, of which this conclusion is only a particular case. “When I
reason with an opponent,” says he, “I do _not_ invade his acknowledged
right of private judgment, nor do I require of him to surrender that
judgment to me. I am, in fact, doing the precise _contrary_ of this. I
am, _by the very act of reasoning_, both _acknowledging_ his right of
judgment, and making an _appeal_ to it.”[90]
To acknowledge the right of judgment, is to forego the claim of
infallibility, and to concede the privilege of dissent; and thus frankly
does St. Paul deal with me. Vainly do his modern expounders attempt to
make him the instrument of their own assumptions. To appeal to my
reason, and then, if I cannot see the force of the proof, to hold me up
as a blasphemer and a rebel against the word of God, is an
inconsistency, of which only the degenerate followers of the great
Apostle could be guilty. His writings disown, in every page, the
injurious claims which would confer on them an artificial authority, to
the ruin of their true power and beauty. In order to show the absolute
divine truth of all that may be written by an inspired man, it is not
enough to establish the _presence_ of inspiration, you must prove also
the _absence_ of everything else. And this can never be done with any
writings made up, like the Apostle’s, of a scarce-broken tissue of
argument and illustration. It is clear that he was not forbidden to
reason and expound, to speculate and refute, to seek access, by every
method of persuasion, to the minds he was sent to evangelize; to appeal,
at one time to his interpretation of prophecy, at another to the visible
glories of creation, and again to the analogies of history. Where could
have been his zeal, his freshness, his versatility of address, his
self-abandonment, his various success, if his natural faculties had not
been left to unembarassed action? And the moment you allow free action
to his intelligence and conscience, you inevitably admit the
possibilities of error, which are inseparable from the operations of the
human mind. To grant that Paul reasons, and be startled at the idea that
he may reason incorrectly,—to admit that he speculates, and yet be
shocked at the surmise that he may speculate falsely,—to praise his
skill in illustration, yet shrink in horror when something less apposite
is pointed out, is an obvious inconsistency. The human understanding
cannot perform its functions without taking its share of the chances of
error; nor can a critic of its productions have any perception of their
truth and excellence, without conceding the possibility of fallacies and
faults. We must give up our admiration of the Apostles as men, if we are
to listen to them always as oracles of God.
But I must proceed to my last argument, which is a plain one, founded
upon facts, open to every one who can read his Bible. I state it in the
words of Mr. Thirlwall: “the discrepancies found in the Gospels compel
us to admit that the superintending control of the Spirit was not
exerted to exempt the sacred writings altogether from errors and
inadvertencies;”[91] nay, he speaks of “the more rigid theory of
inspiration” having been so long “abandoned by the learned on account of
the insuperable difficulties opposed to it by the discrepancies found in
the Gospels, that it would now be a waste of time to attack it.”[92]
I heard it affirmed on Wednesday evening, that, in the sacred writings,
no case can possibly occur of self-contradiction or erroneous statement;
that the very idea of inspiration is utterly opposed to all supposition
of the presence of error; that the occurrence of such a blemish would
prove, that the writer was not so under the immediate teaching and
superintendence of Almighty God as to be preserved from error; or, in
other words, that he was not inspired; that the erroneous passage must
indeed be rejected, but, with it, the whole work in which it is found,
as destitute of divine authority. I have brought Mr. Thirlwall to
confront the question of fact; let me quote Dr. Paley in relation to
this statement of principle. “I know not,” he says, “a more rash or
unphilosophical conduct of the understanding, than to reject the
substance of a story, by reason of some diversities in the circumstances
with which it is related. The usual character of _human testimony_ (Dr.
Paley is discussing the discrepancies between the several Gospels), is,
substantial truth under circumstantial variety.” “On the contrary, a
close and minute agreement induces the suspicion of confederacy and
fraud.”[93] If both these statements be true, the phenomena of
inspiration would be identical with those of confederacy and fraud. I
estimate the Scriptures far too highly to hesitate, for a moment, about
pointing out to your notice certain small variations and
inconsistencies, utterly destructive of the doctrine of plenary
inspiration; but absolutely confirmatory, in some instances, of the
veracity of the historians, and, in all, compatible with it. Our faith
scorns the insinuation, that these sacred writings require “any
forbearance from the boasted understanding of man.”
1. The different Evangelists are at variance with each other, with
respect to the calling of the first Apostles. They differ with respect
to the _time_, the _place_, the _order_; e.g.:
First, as to _time_; Matthew[94] represents the imprisonment of John the
Baptist as the occasion of our Lord’s beginning to preach, and as
preceding the call of any Apostles.
John[95] represents Andrew and Simon, Philip and Nathanael, as
called,—the miracle at Cana as wrought, a Passover as attended at
Jerusalem,—a residence of Jesus and his disciples in the rural district
of Judæa, as going on; and then adds, “for John was not yet cast into
prison.”
Next, as to _place_; according to Matthew and Mark,[96] Andrew and Peter
are called by the Lake of Galilee; according to John, in Judæa.
And as to _order_; Matthew and Mark represent the two pairs of brothers,
as _successively_ called: first, Andrew and Peter; then, after a short
interval, James and John.
Luke,[97] making no mention of Andrew, represents the others as
simultaneously called.
John represents Andrew as called with himself; and Peter, as
subsequently called, through the instrumentality of his brother Andrew.
Of James (though affirmed by the other Evangelists to have been his own
companion in the call), he is silent.
The three first writers not being present, it is nothing wonderful that
they are less accurate than the fourth, who was.
2. The three denials of Peter, as recorded by the first, third, and
fourth Evangelists, will be found inconsistent in their minute
circumstances. The denials are uttered,
{ 1. to a maid.
according to Matthew,[98] { 2. to another maid.
{ 3. to those who stood by.
{ 1. to a maid.
according to Luke,[99] { 2. to a man.
{ 3. to another man.
{ 1. to the maid who admitted him.
according to John,[100] { 2. to the officers of the palace.
{ 3. to a man (a relation of Malchus).
3. Matthew[101] and Luke[102] state, that one Simon bore our Lord’s
cross to Calvary; John,[103] that Jesus bore it himself.
4. The inscription annexed by Pilate to the cross is given differently
by every one of the Evangelists.
Matthew:[104] “This is Jesus the king of the Jews.”
Mark:[105] “The king of the Jews.”
Luke:[106] “This is the king of the Jews.”
John:[107] “Jesus of Nazareth, the king of the Jews.”
5. Matthew[108] and Mark[109]; state that our Lord on the cross was
reviled by both the malefactors; but Luke[110] affirms that when one of
them was guilty of this shocking mockery, he was rebuked by the other;
and that the latter received the well-known assurance, “this day shalt
thou be with me in Paradise.”
6. The last discrepancy which I shall mention, has reference to the
final Passover, and its relation to the day of crucifixion. But in order
to understand the case, and indeed to read with intelligence the whole
series of events connected with the crucifixion and resurrection, it is
necessary to bear in mind the following facts:—
(a.) That the Jewish day commenced in the evening, and was reckoned from
sunset to sunset.
(b.) That the Jewish Sabbath was the seventh day of the week, and
extended from six o’clock on Friday evening, to the same time on
Saturday.
(c.) That at the Passover, the paschal lamb was slain at the end of one
Jewish day, and eaten immediately, _i.e._, at the commencement of the
next, or about six or seven in the evening. The three hours before
sunset, during which it was prepared, were called _preparation of the
Passover_, and belonged to the fourteenth of the month; while the hours
after sunset, during which it was eaten, belonged to the fifteenth. The
phrase, _preparation of the Sabbath_, was used in like manner, to denote
the three hours before sunset every Friday.
(d.) The Passover being fixed to the fifteenth of the _month_, and
_that_ a lunar month, necessarily moved over all the days of the week;
and might fall, of course, into coincidence with the weekly Sabbath.
(e.) The feast of unleavened bread was a festival of seven days’
duration, the first day of which coincided with that on which the
Passover was eaten, following of course that on which it was killed.
These things being premised, we are prepared to notice the points on
which the Evangelists agree, and those in which they disagree, in their
accounts of the crucifixion, and its connected events. They all agree in
assigning the same distinguishing incidents of our Lord’s personal
history to the _four great days of the week_ most interesting to
Christians, viz., to the Thursday the last supper; to the Friday, the
crucifixion; to the Saturday, the sleep in the sepulchre; to the Sunday,
the resurrection. But about the position of the Jewish Passover upon
these days, they singularly differ; St. John fixing it on the Friday
evening, and making it therefore coincide with the weekly Sabbath; the
other three fixing it on the Thursday evening, and so following it up by
the Sabbath. The variance is the more interesting from its influence on
our views of the last supper; which, according to the three first
Evangelists _was the Passover_, according to the fourth, was _not the
Passover_. The institution of the Communion, as a Christian
transformation of the Jewish Festival rests entirely on the former of
these narratives; St. John is altogether silent respecting it. Yet it
was he who leaned on Jesus’ bosom, and stood beneath his cross.
Now what is the just inference from such discrepancies? Is it that the
writers were incompetent reporters of the main facts? Not so; for there
are few biographers, however well-informed, whose testimony, produced in
circumstances at all parallel, would not yield, on the application of as
severe a test, inconsistencies more considerable. Is it that they are
not veracious? Not so; for not a trace of self-interest is discernible
in these cases. Is it that they were not inspired? Not so; for the
transition they underwent from peasants to apostles, from dragging the
lake to regenerating the world, is the sublimest case of inspiration
(except one) with which God has refreshed the nations. But it is this;
that they were not intellectually infallible.
I have now endeavoured to give some idea of two different ways of
regarding the Christian records.
I. They possess an _internal and self-evidence_, in their own moral
beauty and consistency, and the unimaginable perfection of the great Son
of God, whom they bring to life before us. With this evidence, which is
open to every pure mind and true heart,—which speaks to the conscience
like a voice of God without, conversing with the spirit of God within,
all those may be content, who think that, _to accept Christ as the image
of Deity, and the authoritative model of Duty_, is to be _a Christian_.
II. Those, however, who think that, in order to be Christians, we must
hold one only doctrinal creed, containing many things hard to
understand, and harder to believe, are aware that nothing short of a
divine infallibility can prevail with us to receive a system so
repugnant to our nature. And as this is incapable of self-proof, they
appeal chiefly to the _external evidence and foreign attestation_ which
belong to the Christian records; beginning with the historical method,
they endeavour to show,
(1.) That we have the original words of the Gospel witnesses
(_authenticity_):
(2.) That, this being the case, we have the very Words of God (_plenary
inspiration_).
Now let me detain you by one reflection on these two methods. Suppose
each, in turn, to prove insufficient, as a basis of Christianity, the
other remaining firm; and consider what consequences will result.
If the internal or self-evidence be inadequate, (which our objectors
must suppose, for it cannot, they admit, prove their creeds,) then every
one must seek a foundation for his faith in the other. He must satisfy
himself, _in limine_, of the personal authorship of the books in the
Canon; a purely literary inquiry, and one of extraordinary labour, even
to those who enjoy every advantage for its prosecution. In order to be
saved, doctrines must be embraced, requiring for their proof an
inspiration, which does not exist in the New Testament writings, except
on the supposition of their _apostolic origin_. The ascertainment, then,
of _this_ point, is the necessary prelude to all saving faith; this duty
lies on the outermost threshold of our acceptance with the Giver of
salvation. So that God hangs the eternal welfare of every man on an
investigation so critical and elaborate, that a whole life of research
is not too much to understand it, and the most familiar with its details
are, by no means, the most uniformly confident of its results; an
investigation which assigns a certain date to each book, as the lowest
limit of security; and says, if you dare to fix this letter or that
Gospel upon a time later by half a century, you are lost for ever.
But may not the young and the ignorant trust in the guidance of a
teacher? In his sermon on private judgment, Dr. Tattershall treats of
this question, and lays down the following rule:—“In the case of adults,
such reliance is justifiable _so far_, and _no farther_, than it is
unavoidable. So far as God has not given the ability, or the opportunity
of investigation, so far he will not require it; but in whatever degree
any person has the power and opportunity of examining the will of God
for himself,—in that degree,—whether he exercise his privilege _or
not,—God will hold him responsible_. As to the liability to fall into
error;—beyond all doubt, such liability exists, whether we submit to the
guidance of any teacher, or exercise our own private judgment.”[111]
How, let me ask, can we avoid drawing the following inferences?
(1.) That the greater part of mankind must be held to be in a condition
rendering this reliance on a teacher “_unavoidable_.”
(2.) For this reliance, then, such portion of mankind must be held
_justified in the sight of God_.
(3.) But such dependence makes them liable to err; and must, in fact,
have led countless multitudes into error.
(4.) If these errors are fatal to salvation, then _God_ _inflicts
eternal torments for the inevitable results of a justifiable act_.
(5.) If these errors are not fatal to salvation, then _there is
salvation out of the faith_.
The result, then, of this external system is, that you may be saved on
either of two conditions; that you belong to the orthodox literary sect,
and hold the antiquarian opinions of the priests; or, that you belong to
the ignorant, and can find out the right persons to whom to say, “I will
believe, as you believe.”
Reverse the supposition. Conceive that in the process, becoming ever
more searching, of historical inquiry, the other and external method
should be found to be inadequate to the maintenance of its
superstructure; what would be the fate of Christianity, trusted solely
to its self-evidence? I will imagine even the worst: and suppose that
the first three Gospels are shown to be not personally authentic, not
the independent productions of three apostolic men; but a compilation of
very composite structure, consisting of (we will say) some thirty
fragments, obviously from different hands, and all of anonymous origin.
In such case, the individual testimony of eye-witnesses being gone, the
whole edifice of external proof which supports a dogmatic Christianity,
must fall. But the self-evidence of a moral and spiritual Christianity,
of a Christianity that clings to the person and spirit of Christ, is not
only unharmed, but even incalculably increased. For how often, and how
truly, has it been argued, that the mere inspection of the four Gospels
is enough to prove the reality of Christ; that the invention, and
consistent maintenance of a character so unapproachable, so destitute of
all archetype beneath the skies, so transcending the fictions of the
noblest genius, and so unlike them, are things utterly incredible, were
they supposed even of one writer: and that, for the same divine image to
gleam forth with coincident perfection from four, belongs to the highest
order of impossibilities. What then should we say, if these four were
resolved into thirty? The coalescence of so many fragmentary records,
could no more make a Christ, than the upsetting of an artist’s colours
could paint a Raffaelle. Whatever then becomes of Church Christianity,
that which lives in Christ, and has the power of love in man, is
everlasting as the soul.