Chapter XXVI: Section VI: Jesus Christ (6)

He uses towards them such designations as these: "Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites;" "you blind guides;" "you fools and blind;" "thou blind Pharisee;" "you serpents, you generation of vipers." If we may believe that he was the author of a parable contained only in Luke, he used a Pharisee as his typical hypocrite, and held up a publican—one of a degraded class—as far superior in genuine virtue to this self-righteous representative of the hated order (Lu. xviii. 9-14).

Had the Pharisees been actually guilty of the exceeding wickedness which Jesus thought proper to ascribe to them, his career would surely have been cut short at a much earlier stage. As it was, they seem to have borne with considerable patience the extreme license which he permitted himself in his language against them. Nay, I venture to say that had he confined himself to language, however strong, he might have escaped the fate which actually befell him. And the evidence of this proposition is to be found in the extreme mildness with which his apostles were afterwards treated by the Sanhedrim, even when they acted in direct disobedience to its orders (Acts iv. 15-21, and v. 27-42). Only Stephen, who courted martyrdom by his language, was put to death, and that for the legal offense of blasphemy. Ordinary prudence would have saved Jesus. For his arrest was closely connected with his expulsion of the money-changers from the temple court. Not indeed that he was condemned to death on that account, but that this ill-considered deed was the immediate incentive of the legal proceedings, which subsequently ended, contrary perhaps to the expectation of his prosecutors, in his conviction by the Sanhedrim on a capital charge. Let us consider the evidence of this. For the convenience of persons going to pay tribute to the temple, some money-changers—probably neither better nor worse than others of their trade—sat outside for the purpose of receiving the current Roman coinage and giving the national money, which alone the authorities of the temple received in exchange. Certain occasions in life requiring an offering of doves, these too were sold in the precincts of the temple, obviously to the advantage of the public. Had Jesus disapproved of this practice, he might have denounced it in public, and have endeavored to persuade the people to give it up. Instead of this, he entered the temple, expelled the buyers and sellers (by what means we do not know), upset the money-changers' tables and the dove-sellers' seats, and permitted no one to carry a vessel through the temple. "Is it not written," he exclaimed, "'My house shall be called a house of prayer for all nations?' but you have made it a den of thieves" (Mk. xi. 15-18; Mt. xxi. 12, 13; Lu. xix. 45-48). The action and the words were alike unjustifiable. The extreme care of the Jews to preserve the sanctity of their temple is well known from secular history. Nothing that they had done or were likely to do could prevent it from remaining a house of prayer. And even if they had suffered it to be desecrated by commerce, was it, they would ask, for Jesus to fall suddenly upon men who were but pursuing a calling which custom had sanctioned, and which they had no reason to think illegal or irreligious? Was it for him to stigmatize them all indiscriminately as "thieves"? Plainly not. He had, in their opinion, exceeded all bounds of decorum, to say nothing of law, in this deed of violence and of passion. Thus, there was nothing for it now but to restrain the further excesses he might be tempted to commit.

No immediate steps were, however, taken to punish this outrage. It is alleged that Jesus escaped because of the reputation he enjoyed among the people. At any rate, the course of the authorities was the mildest they could possibly adopt. They contented themselves with asking Jesus by what authority he did these things, a question which assuredly they had every right to put. He answered by another question, promising if they answered it, he would answer theirs. Was John's baptism from heaven or from men? Hereupon the Evangelists depict the perplexity which they imagine arose among the priests. If they said, from heaven, Jesus would proceed to ask why they had not received him; if from men, they would encounter the popular impression that he was a prophet. All this, however, may be mere speculation; we return within the region of the actual knowledge of the Evangelists when we come to their answer. "And they say in answer to Jesus, '_We do not know._' And Jesus says to them, '_Neither do I tell you_ by what authority I do these things.'" (Mk. xi. 27-33; Mt. xxi. 23-27; Lu. xx. 1-8). Observe in this reply the conduct of Jesus. He had promised the priests that if they answered his question, he would also answer theirs. They _did_ answer his question as best they could, and he refused to answer theirs! Even in the English version, where the contrast between him and them is disguised by the employment of the same word "tell" as the translation of two very different verbs in the original, the distinction between "We _cannot_ tell" and "I _do not_," that is "will not tell" is palpable enough. But it is far more so in the original. The priests did not by any means decline to answer the question; they simply said, what may very likely have been true, that they did not know whence the baptism of John was. In the divided state of public opinion about John, nothing could be more natural. They could not reply decidedly if their feelings were undecided. Their reply, "We do not know," was then a perfectly proper one. The corresponding reply on the part of Jesus would have been, "I do not know by what authority I do these things;" but this of course it was impossible to give. The chief priests, scribes and elders had more right to ask Jesus to produce his authority for his assault than he had to interrogate them about their religious opinions. But Jesus, though he had for the moment evaded a difficulty, must have been well aware that he was not out of danger. He found it necessary to retire to a secret spot, known only to friends. Here, however, he was discovered by his opponents, and brought before the Sanhedrim to answer to the charges now alleged against his character and doctrine.

To some extent these charges are matter of conjecture. The Gospels intimate that there was much evidence against him which they have not reported. Now it is impossible for us to do complete justice to the tribunal which heard the case unless we know the nature and number of the offences of which the prisoner was accused. One of them, the promise to destroy the temple and rebuild it in three days, may have presented itself to their minds as an announcement of a serious purpose, especially after the recent violence done to the traders. However this may be, there was now sufficient evidence before the court to require the high priest to call upon Jesus for his reply. He might therefore have made his defense if he had thought proper. He declined to do so. Again the high priest addressed him, solemnly requiring him to say whether he was the Christ, the Son of God. Jesus admitted that such was his conviction, and declared that they would afterwards see him return in the clouds of heaven. Hereupon the high priest rent his clothes, and asked what further evidence could be needed. All had heard his blasphemy; what did they think of it? All of them concurred in condemning him to death (Mk. xv. 53-64; Mt. xxvi. 57-66; Lu. xxii. 66-71).

The three Evangelists who report the trial all agree that the blasphemy thus uttered was accepted at once as full and sufficient ground for the conviction of Jesus. Now, I see no reason whatever to doubt that the priests who were thus scandalized by his declaration were perfectly sincere in the horror they professed. All who have at all realized the extremely strong feelings of the Jews on the subject of Monotheism, will easily understand that anything which in the least impugned it would be regarded by them with the utmost aversion. And a man who claimed to be the Son of God certainly detracted somewhat from the sole and exclusive adoration which they considered to be due to Jehovah. As indeed the event has proved; for the Christian Church soon departed from pure Monotheism, adopting the dogma of the Trinity; while Christ along with his Father, and even more than his Father, became an object of its worship. So that if the Jews considered it their supreme obligation to preserve the purity of their Jehovistic faith, as their Scriptures taught them to believe it was, they were right in putting down Jesus by forcible means. No doubt they were wrong in holding such an opinion. It was not, in fact, their duty to guard their faith by persecution. They would have been morally better had they understood the modern doctrine of religious liberty, unknown as it was to Christians themselves until some sixteen centuries after the death of Christ. But for their mistaken notions on this head they were only in part responsible. They had inherited their creed with its profound intolerance. Their history, their legislators, their prophets, all conspired to uphold persecution for the maintenance of religious truth. They could not believe in their sacred books, and disbelieve the propriety of persecution. Before they could leave Jesus at large to teach his subversive doctrines, they must have ceased to be Jews; and this it was impossible for them to do. We must not be too hard upon men whose only crime was that they believed in a false religion.

According to the dictates of that religion, Jesus ought to have been stoned. But the Roman supremacy precluded the Jews from giving effect to their own laws. Jesus was therefore taken before the procurator, and accused of "many things." The charge of blasphemy of course would weigh nothing in the mind of a Roman; and it is evident that another aspect of the indictment was brought prominently before Pilate: namely, the pretension of Jesus to be king of the Jews. As to the substantial truth of this second charge, we are saved the necessity of discussion, for Jesus himself, when questioned by Pilate, at once admitted it. But whether it was made in malice, and in a somewhat different sense from that in which Pilate understood it, is not so clear. Jesus at no time, so far as we know, put forward any direct claim to immediate temporal dominion. At the same time it must be remembered that the ideas of Messiahship and possession of the kingdom were so intimately connected in the minds of the Jews, that they were probably unable to dissociate them. Unfit as Jesus plainly was for the exercise of the government, they might well believe that, if received by any considerable number of the people, it would be forced upon him as the logical result of his career. Nor were these fears unreasonable. His entry into Jerusalem riding on an ass (an animal expressly selected as emblematic of his royalty), with palm-branches strewed before him, and admirers calling "Hosanna!" as he went, pointed to a very real and serious danger. Another such demonstration might with the utmost ease have passed into a disturbance of the peace, not to say a tumult, which the Romans would have quenched in blood unsparingly and indiscriminatingly shed. Jesus was really therefore a dangerous character, not so much to the Romans, as to the Jews. Not being prepared to accept him as their king in fact, they were almost compelled in self-preservation to denounce him as their would-be king to Pilate.

His execution followed. His supposed resurrection, and the renewed propagation of his faith, followed that. It has been widely believed that because Christianity was not put down by the death of its founder, because, indeed, it burst out again in renewed vigor, therefore the measures taken against him were a complete failure, and served only to confer additional glory and power on the religion he had taught. But this opinion arises from a confusion of ideas. If they aimed at preserving their own nation from what they deemed an impious heresy—and I see no proof that they aimed at anything else—the Jewish authorities were perfectly successful. Christianity, which, if our accounts be true, threatened to seduce large numbers of people from their allegiance to the orthodox creed, was practically extinguished among the Jews themselves by the death of Christ. They could not possibly believe in a crucified Messiah. Only a very small band of disciples persisted in adhering to Jesus, justifying their continued faith by asserting that he had risen from the tomb. But it was no longer among the countrymen of Jesus, whom he had especially sought to attach to his person and his doctrine, that this small remnant of his followers could find their converts. Neither then, nor at any subsequent time, has Christianity been able to wean the Jews from their ancient faith. The number of those who, from that time to this, have abandoned it in favor of the more recent religion has been singularly small. If, as is probable, there was during the earthly career of Jesus a growing danger that his teaching might lead to the formation of a sect to which many minds would be attracted, that danger was completely averted.

True, Christianity, when rejected by the Jews, made rapid progress among the Gentiles. But it was no business of the authorities at Jerusalem to look after the religion of heathen nations. They might have thought, had they foreseen the future of Christianity, that a creed which originated among themselves, and had in it a large admixture of Hebrew elements, was better than the worship of the pagan deities. Be this as it may, the particular form of error which the Gentiles might embrace was evidently no concern of theirs. But they had a duty, or thought they had one, towards their own people, who looked to them for guidance, and that was to preserve the religion that had been handed down from their forefathers uncorrupted and unmixed. This they endeavored to do by stifling the new-born heresy of Jesus before it had become too powerful to be stifled. Their measures, having regard to the end they had in view, were undoubtedly politic, and even just.

For were they not perfectly right in supposing that faith in Christ was dangerous to faith in Moses? The event has proved it beyond possibility of question. Not indeed that they could perceive the extent of the peril, for neither Jesus nor any of his disciples has ventured then to throw off Judaism altogether. But they did perceive, with a perfectly correct insight, that the Christians were setting up a new authority alongside of the authorities which alone they recognized,—the Scriptures and the traditional interpretation of the Scriptures. And it was precisely the adoption of a new authority which they desired to prevent. So completely was their foresight on this point justified, that not long after the death of Christ, his assumed followers received converts without circumcision, that all-essential rite; and that, after the lapse of no long period of time, Judaism was entirely abandoned, and a new religion, with new dogmas, new ritual, and new observances, was founded in its place. Surely the action of the men who sat in judgment upon Jesus needs no further justification, from their own point of view, than this one consideration. They had no more sacred trust, in their own eyes, than to prevent the admission of any other object of worship than the Lord Jehovah. Christ speedily became among Christians an object of worship. They owned no more solemn duty than to observe in all its parts the law delivered by their God to Moses. That law was almost instantly abandoned by the Christian Church. They knew of no more unpardonable crime than apostasy from their faith. That apostasy was soon committed by the Jewish Christians.

On all these grounds, then, I venture to maintain that the spiritual rulers of Judea were not so blameworthy as has been commonly supposed in the execution of Jesus of Nazareth. Judged by the principles of universal morality, they were undoubtedly wrong. Judged by the principles of their own religion, they were no less undoubtedly right.

SUBDIVISION 5.—_What did he think of himself?_

Having endeavored, as far as our imperfect information will admit, to realize the view that would be taken of Jesus by contemporary Jews, let us seek if possible to realize the view which he took of himself. In what relation did he suppose himself to stand to God the Father? And in what relation to the Hebrew law? What was his conception of his own mission, and of the manner in which it could best be fulfilled?

Though, in replying to these questions, we suffer somewhat from the scarcity of the materials, we do not labor under the same disadvantages as those we encountered in the preceding section. For there we had to judge between two bitterly hostile parties, of which only one had presented its case. And from the highly colored statement of this one party we had to unravel, as best we could, whatever circumstances might be permitted to weigh in favor of the other. Here we have no conflicting factions to obscure the truth. The opinion formed by Jesus of himself has been handed down to us by his own disciples, who, even if they did not perfectly understand him, must at least have understood him far better than anybody else. And if the picture they give us of the conception he had formed of his own office be consistent with itself, there is also the utmost probability that it is true. Especially will this hold good if this conception should be found to differ materially from that not long afterwards framed about him by the Christian Church.

Consider first the idea he entertained concerning his Messianic character, and his consequent relation to God. His conviction that he was the Messiah, who was sent with a divine message to his nation, was evidently the mainspring of his life. It was under this conviction that he worked his cures and preached his sermons. Probably it strengthened as he continued in his career, though of this there is no possible evidence. Possibly, however, the instructions he gave on several occasions to those whom he had healed, and once to his disciples, to tell no man about him, arose from a certain diffidence about the power by which his miracles were effected (_E.g._, Mk. i. 44; Mt. ix. 30), and a reluctance to accept the honor which the populace would have conferred upon him. However this may be, he certainly put forward his belief on this subject plainly enough, and its acceptance by his disciples no doubt confirmed it in his own mind, while its rejection by the nation at large, especially the more learned portion of it, gave a flavor of bitterness to the tone in which he insisted upon it. The title by which he habitually designates himself is the Son of man. This was, no doubt, selected as a more modest name than "Son of God." The latter was never (if we exclude the fourth Gospel) applied by Jesus to himself, but when applied to him by others, he made no objection to it, but accepted it as his due. The inference from his behavior is, that he liked to be thought the Son of God (as indeed is shown by his eulogy of Peter when that apostle had so described him) (Mt. xvi. 17; vers. 18 and 19 are probably interpolations), but that he did not quite venture to claim the title for himself. That he was ever imagined, either by himself or others, to be the Son of God in the literal, materialistic sense in which the term was afterwards understood, it would be an entire mistake to suppose. No such notion had ever been formulated by the Jewish mind, and it would, no doubt, have filled his earliest disciples with horror. As Mr. Westcott truly observes, "Years must elapse before we can feel that the words of one who talked with men were indeed the words of God" (Canon of New Testament, p. 64). Nor was the Hebrew Jehovah the sort of divinity who would have had a son by a young village maiden. Proceedings of that kind were left to the heathen deities. Nor did Christ, in claiming a filial relationship to God, ever intend to claim unity with the divine essence, still less to assert that he actually was God himself. This notion of identity would receive no sanction even from the fourth Gospel, which does, quite unlike its predecessors, lend some sanction to that of unity in nature. The best proof of this is that Jesus never, at any period of his life, desired his followers to worship him, either as God or as the Son of God. Had he believed of himself what his followers subsequently believed of him, that he was one of the constituent persons in a divine trinity, he must have enjoined his apostles both to address him in prayer themselves, and to desire their converts to address him. It is quite plain that he did nothing of the kind, and that they never supposed him to have done so. Belief in Christ as the Messiah was taught as the first dogma of apostolic Christianity, but adoration of Christ as God was not taught at all. But we are not left in this matter to depend on conjectural inferences. The words of Jesus are plain. Whenever occasion arose, he asserted his inferiority to the Father (as Milton has proved to demonstration),[31] though, as no one had then dreamt of his equality, it is natural that the occasions should not have been frequent. He made himself inferior in knowledge when he said that of the day and hour of the day of judgment no one knew, neither the angels in heaven, nor the Son; no one except the Father (Mk. xiii. 32). He made himself inferior in power when he said that seats on his right hand and on his left in the kingdom of heaven were not his to give (Mk. x. 40); inferior in virtue when he desired a certain man not to address him as "Good master," for there was none good but God (Mk. x. 18). The words of his prayer at Gethsemane, "all things are possible unto thee," imply that all things were not possible to him; while its conclusion, "not what I will, but what thou wilt," indicates submission to a superior, not the mere execution of a purpose of his own (Mk. xiv. 36). Indeed, the whole prayer would have been a mockery, useless for any purpose but the deception of his disciples, if he had himself been identical with the Being to whom he prayed, and had merely been giving effect by his death to their common counsels. While the cry of agony from the cross, "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" (Mk. xv. 34,) would have been quite unmeaning if the person forsaken and the person forsaking had been one and the same. Either, then, we must assume that the language of Jesus has been misreported, or we must admit that he never for a moment pretended to be co-equal, co-eternal, or con-substantial with God.

Throughout his public life he spoke of himself as one who was sent by God for a certain purpose. What was that purpose? Was it, as the Gentile Christians so readily assumed, to abolish the laws and customs of the Jews, and to substitute others in their stead? Did he, for example, propose to supplant circumcision by baptism? the Sabbath by the Sunday? the synagogue by the church? the ceremonial observances of the law of Moses by observances of another kind? If so, let the evidence be produced. For unless we find among his recorded instructions some specific injunction to his disciples that they were no longer to be Jews, but Christians, we cannot assume that he intended any such revolution. Now, not only can no such injunction be produced, but the whole course of his life negatives the supposition that any was given. For while teaching much on many subjects, he never at any time alludes to the Mosaic dispensation as a temporary arrangement, destined to yield to a higher law. Yet it would surely have been strange if he had left his disciples to guess at his intentions on this all-important subject. Moreover, it came directly in his way when he censured the Pharisees. He frequently accuses them of overlaying the law with a multitude of unnecessary and troublesome rules; but while objecting to these, he never for a moment hints that the very law itself was now to become a thing of the past. Quite the reverse. The Pharisees were very scrupulous about paying tithes and disregarded weightier matters; these, he says, they ought to have done, and not to have left the other undone. If those tithes were no longer to be paid (at least not for the same objects), why does he not say so? Again, he charges them with transgressing the commandment of God by their tradition; where it is the accretions round the law, and not the law itself, which he attacks. In one case he even directly imposes an observance of the legal requirements on a man over whom he has influence (Mk. i. 44). Moreover, he himself evidently continued to perform the obligations of his Jewish religion until the very end of his life, for one of his last acts was to eat the passover with his disciples. The only institution which he apparently desires to alter at all is the Sabbath, and there it is plain that he aims at an amendment in the mode of its observance, not at its entire abolition. Indeed, he justifies his disciples by invoking the example of David, an orthodox Hebrew; and very happily remarks, that the Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath—one of his best and most epigrammatic sayings. But an institution made for man was indeed one to be rationally observed, but by no means one to be lightly tampered with. Jesus, in fact, was altogether a Jew, and though an ardent reformer, he desired to reform within the limits of Judaism, not beyond them.

If further proof were needed of this than the fact that he himself neither abandoned the religion of his birth, nor sought to obtain disciples except among those who belonged to it, it would be found in his treatment of the heathen woman whose daughter was troubled with a devil. To her he distinctly declared that he was not sent except to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. In reply to her further persistence, he told her that it was not well to take the children's meat and throw it to dogs. Nothing but her appropriate yet modest answer induced him to accede to her request (Mt. xv. 21-28). Further confirmation is afforded by his instructions to his disciples, whom he desired not to go either to the Gentiles or the Sâmaritans, but to the lost sheep of the house of Israel (Mt. x. 5, 6). His own practice was altogether in conformity with these instructions. He markedly confined the benefits of his teaching to his fellow-countrymen. Once only is he said to have visited the neighborhood of Tyre and Sidon, and then he was anxious to preserve the strictest incognito (Mk. vii. 24). Even when the Jews refused to believed in him, he sought no converts among the Gentiles. He never even intimated that he would receive such converts without their previous adoption of the Jewish faith, and after his decease his most intimate disciples were doubtful whether it was lawful to associate with uncircumcised people (Acts x. 28; xi. 2, 3). Not only, therefore, had he himself never done so, but he had left no instructions behind him that such a relaxation of Jewish scruples might ever be permitted. True, when disappointed among his own people, he now and then contrasted them in unflattering terms with the heathen. Chorazin and Bethsaida were worse than Tyre and Sidon; Capernaum less open to conviction than Sodom (Mt. xi. 20-24). The faith of the heathen centurion was greater than any he had found in Israel (Mt. viii. 10). But all these expressions of embittered feeling imply that it was in Israel he had looked for faith, towards Israel that his desires were turned. To discover faith out of it might be an agreeable surprise, but as a general rule, was neither to be expected nor sought.

Having, then, determined, what the purport of his mission was not, let us try to discover what it was. The quest is not difficult. The whole of his teaching is pervaded by one ever-recurring keynote, which those who have ears to hear it cannot miss. He came to announce the approach of what he termed "the kingdom of heaven." A great revolution was to take place on earth. God was to come, accompanied by Jesus, to reward the virtuous and to punish the wicked. A totally new order of things was to be substituted in lieu of the present unjust and unequal institutions. And Jesus was sent by God to warn the children of Israel to prepare for this kingdom of heaven. There was but little time to lose, for even now the day of judgment was at hand. The mind of Jesus was laden with this one great thought, to which, with him, all others were subordinate. It runs through his maxims of conduct, his parables, his familiar converse with his disciples. Far from him was the notion of founding a new religion, to be extended throughout the world and to last for ages. It was a work of much more immediate urgency which he came to do. "Prepare for the kingdom of heaven, for it will come upon you in the present generation;" such was the burden of his message. Let us hear his own mode of delivering it to men.

The very beginning of his preaching, according to Mark, was in this strain: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has approached; repent, and believe the Gospel" (Mk. i. 15). Precisely similar is the purport of his earliest doctrine according to Matthew (Mt. iv. 7). How thoroughly he believed that the time was fulfilled is shown by his decided declaration that there were some among his hearers who would not taste of death till they had seen the kingdom of God come with power (Mk. ix. 1), a saying which, as it would never have been invented, is undoubtedly genuine. He told his disciples that Elias, who was expected to precede the kingdom of heaven, had already come (Mk. ix. 13).

Over and over again, in a hundred different ways, this absorbing thought finds expression in his language. The one and only message the disciples are instructed to carry to the "lost sheep of the house of Israel" is that the kingdom of heaven is at hand (Mt. x. 17). When a city does not receive them, they are to wipe off the dust of it against them, and bid them be sure that the kingdom of God is near them (Lu. x. 11). In the coming judgment, Chorazin, Bethsaida, and above all his own place Capernaum, were to suffer more than Tyre and Sidon. Earthly matters assume, in consequence of this conviction of their temporary nature, a very trivial aspect. The disciples are to take no thought for the morrow; the morrow will take thought for itself. Nor are they to trouble themselves about food and clothing, but to seek first the kingdom of God (Mt. vi. 31-34). They are not to lay up treasure on earth, but in heaven, in order that their hearts may be there (Mt. vi. 19-21). Moreover, they must be always on the watch, as the Son of man will come upon them at an unexpected hour. It would not do then to be engaged as the wicked antediluvians were when overtaken by the flood, in the occupations of eating and drinking, or marrying and giving in marriage. Instead of this, they must be like the faithful servant whom his master on returning to his house found watching (Mt. xxiv. 38, 42, 43; Lu. xii. 37, 38). Preparation is to be made for the kingdom which their Father will give them by selling what they have and bestowing alms, so laying up an incorruptible treasure; by keeping their loins girded and their lights burning (Lu. xii. 32). Neglect of these precautions will be punished by exclusion from the joys of the kingdom, as shown in the parable of the ten virgins (Mt. xxv. 1-13). But the indications of the great event are not understood by the people, who are able to read the signs of the coming weather, but not those of the times (Lu. xii. 54-57); an inability which might have been due to the fact that they had had some experience of the one kind of signs and none of the other. On another occasion, he observes that the law and the prophets were till John; since then the kingdom of God has been preached, and every man presses into it (Lu. xvi. 16). Here he specially proclaims himself as the preacher of the kingdom; the man who brought mankind this new revelation. Such was the manner in which this revelation was announced, that some at least of those who heard him thought that the kingdom was to come immediately. To counteract this view he told the parable of the nobleman who went from home to receive a kingdom, leaving his servants in charge of certain monies, and rewarded them on his return according to the amount of interest they had obtained by usury, punishing one of them who had made no use of the sum intrusted to him (Lu. xix. 11-27). He himself, of course, was the nobleman who received his kingdom and returned again to judge his servants. So urgent was the message he had to deliver, that (according to one Evangelist) a man who wished to bury his father before joining him was told to let the dead bury their dead, but to go himself and announce the kingdom of God; while another, who asked leave to bid farewell to his family, was warned that no man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, was fit for that kingdom (Lu. ix. 58-62).

The arrival of the kingdom was to be preceded by various signs. There would be false Christs; there would be wars, earthquakes, and famines; there would be persecutions of the faithful; but the Gospel (that is, the announcement of the approach of this new state of things) must first be published in all nations.[32] Then the sun and moon would be darkened and the stars fall; the Son of man would come in power and glory, and gather his elect from all parts of the earth. The existing generation was not to pass till all these things were done. Not even the Son knew when this would happen; but as it might come suddenly and unexpectedly upon them, they were to be continually on the watch (Mk. xiii.; Mt. xxiv). The apostles would not even finish the cities of Israel before the Son of man had come (Mt. x. 23).

Little is said in description of the nature of the kingdom of heaven except by the method of illustration. The main result to be gathered from numerous allusions to it is that justice is to prevail. Thus, the kingdom of heaven is said to be like a man who sowed good seed in his field, but in whose property an enemy maliciously mingled tares. At the harvest the tares are to be burnt, and the wheat gathered into the barn. This parable Jesus himself explained. The tares are the wicked; the wheat represents "the children of the kingdom." And as tares are burnt, so "the Son of man shall send his angels, and collect from his kingdom all offenses, and those who do wickedness, and shall throw them into the furnace of fire; there shall be weeping and gnashing of teeth. Then the just shall shine out like the sun in the kingdom of their Father." The same idea is expressed in the illustration of the net cast into the sea, which gathers good fish and bad. Just as the fishermen separate these, so the angels at the end of the world will separate the wicked from the midst of the just. Other comparisons represent the influence on the heart of faith in the kingdom. Thus, the kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed, which, though the smallest of seeds, becomes the largest of herbs. Or it is like leaven leavening three measures of meal. Again, it is like treasure hid in a field, or a pearl of great price (Mt. xiii. 24-50).

The best qualification for preëminence in the kingdom was humility.

When asked who was to be greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus replied that it would be he who humbled himself like a little child (Mt. xviii. 1-4). He delights in the exhibition of striking contrasts between the present and the future state of things. The first are to be the last, and the last first. Those who have made great sacrifices now are then to receive vast rewards (Mk. x. 29-31). He who has lost his life for his sake is to find it, and he who has found it is to lose it (Mt. x. 39). The stone rejected by the builder is to become the head of the corner (Mk. xii. 10). The kingdom of God is to be taken from the privileged nation and given to another more worthy of it (Mt. xxi. 43). Publicans and harlots are to take precedence of the respectable classes in entering the kingdom (Mt. xxi. 31). It is scarcely possible for rich men to enter it at all, though God may perhaps admit them by an extraordinary exertion of power (Mk. x. 23-27). Many even who trust in their high character for correct religion will find themselves rejected. But they will be safe who have both heard the sayings of Jesus and done them. They will have built their houses on rocks, from which the storms which usher in the kingdom will not dislodge them. Those, however, who hear these sayings, and neglect to perform them, will be like foolish men who have built their houses on sand, where the storms will beat them down, and great will be their fall (Mt. vii. 22-29). That the kingdom is to be on earth, not in some unknown heaven, is manifest from the numerous references of Jesus to the time when the Son of man will "come;" a time which none can know, yet for which all are to watch. He never speaks of men "going" to the kingdom of heaven; it is the kingdom of heaven which is to come to them. And the most remarkable of the many contrasts will be that between the present humiliation of the Son and his future glory. He will return to execute his Father's decrees. His judges themselves will see him "sitting on the right hand of power, and coming in the clouds of heaven" (Mt. xxvi. 64). Instead of standing as a prisoner at the bar, he will then be enthroned as a judge. "When the Son of man shall come in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he shall sit on the throne of his glory; and all the nations shall be collected before him, and he shall separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and he shall put the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on his left." The goats, who have done harm, are then to go into everlasting punishment; and the sheep, who have done good, are to pass into eternal life (Mt. xxv. 31-46).

This equitable adjustment of rewards and punishments to merit and demerit is the leading conception in the revolution which the kingdom of heaven is to make. The faithful servant is to be made ruler over his master's goods; the unfaithful one to be cut off and assigned a portion with the hypocrites. The virgins whose lamps are ready burning will be admitted to the marriage festival. The servants who make the best use of the property committed to their charge will be rewarded, while those who have failed to employ it properly will be cast into outer darkness (Mt. xxiv. 42-xxv. 30). So also the wicked husbandmen in the vineyard, who ill treated their master's servants and killed his heir, are to be destroyed when he comes, and the vineyard is to be committed to other cultivators (Mk. xii. 1-9). All those, on the other hand, who have made great sacrifices for the sake of Christ will receive a hundred-fold compensation for all that they have now abandoned (Mt. xix. 29, 30).

Such was the sort of notion—rude, yet tolerably definite—which Jesus had formed of the kingdom his Father was about to found, and for the coming of which he taught his disciples to pray. This hope of a reign of justice, of an exaltation of the lowly and virtuous, and a depression of the proud and wicked, animated his teaching and inspired his life. To make known this great event, so shortly to overtake them, to mankind, was a duty with which in his opinion he had been charged by God; to receive this message at his hands was in his judgment the first of virtues, to spurn it the most unpardonable of crimes.

SUBDIVISION 6.—_What did his disciples think of him?_

There is on record a remarkable conversation which affords us a glimpse, both of the rumors that were current about Christ among the people, and also of the view taken of him by his nearest friends during his life-time. Jesus had gone with his disciples into the towns of Cæsarea Philippi. On the way, being apparently curious about the state of public opinion, he asked them, "Whom do men say that I am?" To this they replied, "John the Baptist; and some say Elias, and others that thou art one of the prophets." To which Jesus rejoined, "But you, whom say you that I am?" Peter returned the answer, "Thou art the Messiah;" or "Thou art the Messiah, the Son of the living God." It is remarkable that Peter alone is represented as replying to this second question, as if the others had not yet attained to the conviction which this apostle held of the Messiahship of Jesus. Especially would this conclusion be confirmed if we adopted the version of Matthew, where Jesus expresses his high approbation of Peter's answer (Mk. viii. 27-30; Mt. xvi. 13-20). If this apostle was peculiarly blessed on account of his perception of this truth, it may be inferred that his companions had either not yet perceived, or were not yet sure of it. That Peter did not mean by calling him the Messiah to state that he was a portion of the deity himself, is evident from what follows; for Jesus having predicted his future sufferings, "Peter began to rebuke him," anxious to avert the omen. Had he believed that it was God himself with whom he was conversing, he could hardly have ventured to question his perfect knowledge of the future.

The doctrine of the divinity of Christ is not, in fact, to be found in the New Testament. Even the writer of the fourth Gospel, who holds the highest and most mystical view of his nature, does not teach that. Often indeed in that Gospel does Jesus speak of himself as one with the Father. But the dogmatic force of all these expressions is measured by the fact that precisely in the same sense he speaks of the disciples as one with himself. As the Father and he are in one another, so he prays that the disciples may be one in them (Jo. xvii. 21). Moreover, when the Jews charged him with making himself God, he met them by inquiring whether it was not written in their law, "I said, Ye are gods." If, then, those to whom the word of God came were called gods, was it blasphemy in him, whom the Father had sanctified and sent, to say, "I am the Son of God?" (Jo. x. 33-37). Here, then, the term which Jesus appropriates is "Son of God," and this he considers admissible because the Hebrew people generally had been called gods. Evidently, then, he does not admit the charge of making himself God.

The authority of the fourth Gospel is, of course, of no value in enabling us to determine what Jesus said or did, but it is of great value as evidence of the view taken about him by those of his disciples who, at this early period, had advanced the furthest in the direction of placing him on a level with God himself. It is either the latest, or one of the latest, compositions in the New Testament, and it proves that, at the period when its author lived, even the boldest spirits had not ventured on the dogma which afterwards became the corner-stone of the Christian creed.

Throughout the rest of the canonical books, Jesus is simply the Messiah, the Son of God; in whom, in that sense, it is a duty to believe. Whoever believes this much is, according to the first epistle of John, born of God (1 John v. 1).

Clearer still is the evidence that, in the opinion of those most competent to judge, Jesus had no intention of abolishing the observance of the law of Moses. So far were his disciples from imagining that he contemplated any such change, that they were at first in doubt whether it was allowable for them even to relax the rules which forbade social intercourse with heathens. The writer of the Acts of the Apostles, however, informs us that, when an important convert was to be won over from the pagan ranks, Peter had the privilege of a vision which enjoined him not to call anything which God had cleansed common or unclean. Interpreting this to mean that he might associate with the Gentiles, he received the heathen convert, Cornelius, with all cordiality, and even preached the gospel of Jesus to the uncircumcised company by whom he was surrounded. That this was a novel measure is plainly evinced by the fact that the Jewish Christians who were present were astonished that the gift of the Holy Ghost should be poured out upon the Gentiles. They therefore had conceived that Christianity was to be confined to themselves (Acts x).

But there is more direct evidence of the same fact. When Peter returned to Jerusalem, the circumcised believers there found fault with him because he had gone in to uncircumcised men, and had eaten with them. Peter, of course, related his vision in self-defense, and since there was no reply to be made to such an argument as this, they accepted the new and unexpected fact which he announced: "Well, then, God has given repentance to life to the Gentiles also" (Acts xi. 1-18). Paul, who was too strong-minded to need a revelation to teach him the best way of promoting Christian interests, also received heathen converts without requiring them to come under Jewish obligations. But the conduct of these apostles was far from meeting with unmixed approbation in the community. Some men from Judea came to Antioch, where Paul and Barnabas were, and informed the brethren there that unless they were circumcised they could not be saved. So important was this question deemed, that Paul and Barnabas, after much disputing with these Judaic Christians, agreed to go with them to Jerusalem to refer the matter to a council of the apostles and elders. Obviously, then, it was a new case which had arisen. No authoritative _dictum_ of Jesus could be produced. The possibility of having to receive heathens among his disciples was one he had never contemplated. Called to deal with this supremely important question, on which the whole future of the Church turned, the apostles displayed moderation and good sense. Acting on the concurrent advice of Peter, Paul, James, and Barnabas, they wrote to the brethren in Antioch, Syria, and Cilicia, that they had determined to lay no greater burden upon them than these necessary things:—1. Abstinence from meat offered to idols; 2. from blood; 3. from things strangled; 4. from fornication. Hence it will be seen that they absolved the heathen believers from all Jewish observances except two, those that forbade blood and things strangled. These, from long habit and the fixed prejudices of their race, no doubt appeared to them to have some deeper foundation than a mere arbitrary command. These therefore they enjoined even upon pagans (Acts xv. 1-31).

Be it observed, however, that this dispensation applied only to those who were not of Hebrew blood. The apostles and elders assembled at Jerusalem had no thought of dispensing _themselves_ from the binding force of the law of Moses. To observe it was alike their privilege and their duty. They did not conceive that, in becoming Christians, they had ceased to be Jews, any more than a Catholic who becomes a Protestant conceives that he has ceased to be a Christian. The question whether those who had been born Jews should abandon their ancient religion was not even raised at this time among them. The only question was whether those who had not been born Jews should adopt it.

Innovation, however, is not to be arrested at any given point. Liberty having been conceded to the Gentiles, it was not unnatural that some of the apostles, when living among the Gentiles, should take advantage of it for themselves. No overt rule was adopted on this subject. It seems to have been tacitly understood that all Jews should continue to be bound by the rigor of their native customs, except in so far as they had been modified by common consent: and the attempt of some to escape from this burden was an occasion of no small scandal to the more orthodox members of the sect (Acts xxi. 20; Gal. ii. 12). Both Peter and Paul indeed, at separate times, were compelled to make some concessions to the extremely strong feeling in favor of the law which existed at headquarters. The conduct of these two eminent apostles merits examination.

Peter, it appears, never gave up Judaism in his own person; but when staying at Antioch he mixed freely with Gentiles, making no attempt to impose the law upon them, and approving of the proceedings of Paul. It so happened, however, that there came to Antioch some brethren from James at Jerusalem. These men were strict Jews, and Peter was so much afraid of them, that he "withdrew and separated himself" from his former companions. The other Jewish Christians, and even Barnabas, the former friend of Paul, were induced to act in the same way. Paul, who was not likely to lose the opportunity of a little triumph over Peter, ruthlessly exposed his misconduct. According to his account, he publicly addressed him in these terms: "If thou, being a Jew, livest like a Gentile and not like a Jew, why dost thou compel the Gentiles to be like Jews?" (Gal. ii. 11-14.). What answer Peter returned, or whether he returned any, Paul does not inform us. His charge against Peter I understand to be, not that the apostle had positively adopted heathen customs, and then taken up Jewish ones again, but that he had relaxed in his own favor the rules which forbade Jews from eating with Gentiles. On the appearance of the stricter Christians from Jerusalem he put on the appearance of a strictness equal to their own. Such conduct was consistent with the character of the disciple who had denied his master.