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-_y/te JejnptaMunv ¦Lnifhe, (JU'iLcLerrveAd

THE LIFE OF CHRIST

IN

RECENT RESEARCH

BY

WILLIAM SANDAY, D.D., LL.D., Litt.D.
LADY MARGARET PROFESSOR, AND CANON OF CHRIST CHURCH, OXFORD
HON. FELLOW OF EXETER COLLEGE ; IJELLOW OF THE BRITISH ACADEMY
CHAPLAIN IN ORDINARY TO THE KING

/
NEW YORK
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
american branch
91 and 93 Fifth Avenue
1907

Copyright, 1907, by
OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS
AMERICAN BRANCH

PREFACE
The present volume is composite in its origin ; and
yet, although it was something of an afterthought
to print the papers of which it is composed together,
they have a considerable degree of unity both of time
and purpose. All but one have been written within
very little more than a year; and in several cases, as
will be readily seen, one has grown out of another.
The nucleus of the volume is formed by four lec
tures delivered in response to an invitation from
Cambridge. They had also been rehearsed at Ox
ford; and the opportunity has been taken to add to
them two supplementary lectures given here in the
early summer of this year. Almost at the same time
with the invitation from Cambridge I received an
other to lecture at the Church House ; and this lecture
appears as No. I of the present series ('The Sym
bolism of the Bible '), the idea in my mind being that
some conception of the extent and nature of Biblical
Symbolism would be helpful in connexion with the
other lectures. It fell to my lot to preach before the
University in February last, and the substance of
that sermon appears under the title ' Miracles.' It
was still more of an afterthought to reprint at the
iii

iv Preface
end of the volume reviews of two recent books by
Dr. Du Bose, and with them an article on Dr. Mo-
berly's Atonement and Personality. Unintentionally,
and in the first instance almost unconsciously, these
three reviews fell into a kind of connected chain,
and as they have a distinct bearing on the main sub
ject though approaching it from a different side, it
is convenient to myself, and may be to some others,
to have them together. At the last moment I have
decided to throw in as an Appendix a sermon on
Angels, written for the Chapel Royal on Michael
mas Day. I do this, both because it furnishes an
other direct illustration of a leading principle that
has become clearer to me as the book proceeded and
also because the subject is one that has caused me
some perplexity, though it now seems to work out
satisfactorily. It would be idle for me to attempt to disguise the
fact that the collection as a whole reflects a part of
the process of self-education for the larger task that
I have undertaken, and to which reference has been
made in previous books {Sacred Sites of the Gospels,
1903; Outlines of the Life of Christ, 1905; The Crit
icism of the Fourth Gospel, 1906). If the criticism
is raised that this is not an ideal mode of procedure,
the only defence I can make is that I know that it
is not ideal. My object is to do the best I can with
such resources as I have; and under these conditions
I have no doubt that tentative methods are conducive

Preface v
to the end in view. I find it helpful to be allowed
to make studies on the way, that can be exposed to
criticism and so to correction. And I excuse myself
partly by the thought that what is good for the single
mind may be to some extent good also for the gen
eral mind. The problems of the present day are so
large and so important that they are not to be han
dled h coup sur all at once. It ought to be possible to
be tentative without being either rash or crude; but
whether I have succeeded in that attempt I cannot
tell. There is one special obligation that I have to ac
knowledge. I had occasion (on p. 29) to refer to a
picture of the Temptation of our Lord, as expressing
what may be called the modern conception of that
event in contrast to the ancient or mediaeval. It
really seemed to do more than this: it seemed to me
— I do not know whether it will to others, on such
matters every one has his own ideas — to bring out
more satisfactorily than any other representation with
which I am acquainted, either by brush or pen, the
effort that the modern mind is making to embody its
conception as a whole. The painter was W. Dyce,
R.A. (1806-1864), who may be described as one of
the first pre-Raphaelites. His easel pictures are not
very common — he was highly accomplished in a num
ber of ways, and his time was taken up both with the
theory and the organization of Art in this country
— though there is one other beautiful example of his

vi Preface
treatment of sacred subjects, besides a landscape, in
the Tate Gallery. The picture of which I have been
speaking is in a collection which belonged to Mr.
James Henry Stock, of White Hall, Tarporley, some
time member for the Walton Division of Liverpool;
and the owner most kindly and readily acceded to my
request to be allowed to have a photograph taken of
it, and to include it in my book. I greatly regret to
say that Mr. Stock died after a short illness while
the book was passing through the press. I am in
debted for the photograph to the skill of Mr. Franz
Hanfstaengl. The three reviews have all appeared in The Ex
positor, and the two later also in the New York
Churchman ; and I have to thank the editors of those
periodicals for their kind permission to reprint them.
I am also once more indebted to my good friend
Dr. Lock for his kindness in reading the proofs and
giving me the benefit of his criticisms and suggestions.
Oxford, August, 1907.

CONTENTS
I. Preliminary page
I. The Symbolism of the Bible  3
II. Cambridge Lectures
II. Twenty Years of Research  37
III. Twenty Years of Research {continued) ... 65
IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views ... 90
V. The Deity of Our Lord Jesus Christ as Expressed
in the Gospels  119
III. Epilogue VI. The Most Recent Literature  145
VII. The Most Recent Literature {continued) , . 175
IV. Miracles VIII. Miracles  203
V. The Higher Significance of the Person and Work
of Christ
IX. 'Atonement and Personality'  229
X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels'  257
XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' . . . .281
Appendix A Sermon on Angels  315
Index  32S
Illustrations From 'The Temptation in the Wilderness,' by W.
Dyce, R.A  '. Frontispiece
' The Temptation in the Wilderness ' . between pages 28, 29

I. PRELIMINARY I. THE SYMBOLISM OF THE BIBLE

THE SYMBOLISM OF THE BIBLE
We are all familiar with the fact that symbolism is
used very freely in the Bible; but I am not sure that
we realize either the extent to which it permeates the
whole volume from end to end, or how important a
factor it is, especially in all those problems which have
to do with the harmonizing of ancient and modern, of
old and new. It is just because these problems are
very much upon us at the present time, and because it
is more and more impressed upon me that the use of
symbolism has a great deal to do with them, that I
have been led to choose this subject for my lecture.
The way in which I propose to treat it is to attempt a
rough classification of the different kinds of symbol
ism. My hope is, not only that by thus breaking up
the subject into its parts we may be helped to form a
more adequate conception of its magnitude, but that
also by concentrating our attention upon different as
pects of it in turn, we may obtain a better understand
ing of its true nature.
Before going further, I must try to define what we
mean by symbolism. Symbolism, I think it may be
said, is indirect description; in other words, it is de
scription or expression by a system of equivalents, in
3

4 Preliminary
which the terms or media employed do not at once call
up the features of the object, but rather suggest them
by calling up the features of some other object like
that which it is sought to describe, or which is treated
as like it, and for the moment is taken to stand for it.
It will be obvious that symbolism is specially in
place when it is used to describe that which it is
difficult or impossible to describe directly; such as the
nature of God or of spiritual things, of which the
mind cannot form any picture as they really are, but
can at most suggest them.
We shall also see, by adopting the definition of
symbolism as ' indirect description,' why it is that the
use of symbols forms such a characteristic difference
between the ancient and the modern. The great
enlargement of our vocabulary, the multiplication of
abstract ideas, and generally the growth of a scientific
habit of mind, impel us to have recourse to direct
description, where the ancients would have used in
direct. Our processes are analytic, where theirs were
poetic and constructive.
i. The Symbolical Actions of the Prophets
We will begin with" a class of symbols that is not
only very clear and easily grasped in itself, but that
also I think may be said to place us at the Biblical
point of view in regard to the use of symbols. The
class I mean embraces a number of actions specially
characteristic of the prophets, which they are repre
sented as carrying out by express divine command, in
order to bring home to the people in the most palpable

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 5
and forcible manner the particular truth or message
which they are commissioned to declare.
The first instance of this kind is when Ahijah the
Shilonite takes Jeroboam aside, and tears up the new
garment that he has put on for the occasion into
twelve pieces, of which he gives ten to Jeroboam, in
token that God would give him ten of the twelve
tribes of Israel to form a separate kingdom, while
leaving to Rehoboam only two (1 Kings xi. 29-32).
The next example is not less instructive because it
is supplied by one of those who are called ' false
prophets,' or prophets at best of a lower order, with
an inferior degree of insight and penetration. You
will remember how, before the fatal battle of Ramoth-
gilead, Zedekiah the son of Chenaanah made for
himself horns of iron, to show how the Syrians
would be pushed until they were consumed ( 1 Kings
xxii. 11).
The prophet Isaiah walks for three years naked
(i.e. without his upper garment) and barefoot, to
represent, in a way that could not be mistaken, the
captivity of Egypt and Ethiopia, the two powers in
which king and people were inclined to trust for sup
port against Assyria: so far from rendering support
to others, these powers would be carried away captive
themselves in a plight like that of the prophet (Isa.
xx. 1-6) . We can understand that an action like this,
continued for the space of three years, would drive
home the prophet's words in a way that speech alone
could never have done.
All this time there was a strong party in favour of

6 Preliminary
the Egyptian alliance; but with this impressive warn
ing staring them constantly in the face, they did not
dare to give effect to their policy.
In the Book of Jeremiah there are a number of ex
amples, illustrating in different ways the destruction
of city and kingdom: for instance, the linen girdle
which is soaked in water and spoilt (Jer. xiii. i-ii),
the earthen bottle which is broken to pieces at To-
pheth (ch. xix), the yoke of wood which the prophet
wears upon his neck, which is broken by Hananiah
the false prophet and then replaced by a yoke of iron
(chaps, xxvii, xxviii).
Again, Ezek. iv, v contain a series of signs repre
senting to the Jews in exile the siege of Jerusalem.
Some of these actions are so elaborate that the ques
tion has been raised whether they can have been car
ried out quite literally. For instance, in iv. 3-17 the
prophet lies on one side with his limbs bound in a con
strained and painful position, according to one reading
for 390 days, and according to another (which is more
probable) for 190. It is possible that there may have
been some further symbol by which the repetition of
the act was conveyed; but I incline to think that he
really did what is described. The Hebrew prophet
had something in common with the Indian fakir.
I need not pursue the examples further. It is one
of the points of close resemblance between the proph
ets of the New Testament and those of the Old that,
in Acts xxi. 11, Agabus takes St. Paul's girdle and
binds himself with it in token that St. Paul himself
was to be bound. Here, too, we can see how effective

/. The Symbolism of the Bible 7
the act would be, and how it would impress the spec
tators more than simple speech.
The examples given so far are all of voluntary, de
liberate acts on the part of the prophets; but there
are other cases where the symbolical character is im
pressed upon the action after the event, as (e.g.) in
Jer. xxxii. 6-15, 25, 42-4. But the most conspicuous
instance of this ex post facto symbolism is no doubt
the story of the prophet Hosea and his unfaithful
wife, Gomer, which the prophet turns into an appeal
to the evil and adulterous generation in which he
lives. The death of Ezekiel's wife, with its mingled
stoicism and pathos, is another instance of a like kind
(Ezek. xxiv. 15-24). 2. Symbolical Visions
By the side of the symbolical actions of the proph
ets it is natural to place the prophetic visions.
In the Pentateuch we have as a rule dreams rather
than visions: e.g. Gen. xx. 3 (Abimelech) ; xxviii.
(Bethel) ; [xxxii, Peniel *] ; xxxvii, xl, xli (Joseph).
The vision is, I suppose, really an extension of the
dream, but with a greater degree of coherence and
plastic elaboration. Prophetic visions, like those of
Isaiah vi and Ezekiel i, are the highest phenomena of
the kind.
We do not forget that the dreams which occur so
plentifully in the book of Genesis are more repre
sentative of the time at which they were committed
to writing than of the time to which they are referred
1 Perhaps this should rather come under the head of ' symbolic history.'

8 Preliminary
as history. And yet they certainly belong to the ear
liest portions of the book; and they are really charac
teristic of the most primitive stage of Israel's religion.
If we believe, as I think we must, in a divine employ
ment of human faculties and natural human processes
for the purpose of revelation, then I think that we
shall see in these dreams, which are made to be the
vehicles of religious truth or divine command, an in
strument of this kind.
Still more may we say this of the prophetic visions.
The dream as well as the vision is really the ex
pression of the inner man. Only a religious man
who, in the beautiful old Biblical phrase, habitually
' walked with God/ was capable of receiving revela
tion through dream or vision.1
A vision such as that which embodies the ' call ' of
Isaiah is not one in which the human faculties are
wholly laid asleep. The scenery of the vision is taken
from Solomon's temple. We can well believe that the
prophet was actually worshipping there when the
trance that he has described for us came over him.
He was conscious of holding as it were a dialogue with
the Almighty. He understands what is said to him,
and at first resists the commission imposed upon him,
but his scruples are overcome by what he recognizes
as an inspiration from on high. This experience is
the foundation of his whole prophetic career.
In the case of Ezekiel there is probably a more de
liberate and conscious use of imagery. The central
1 On the psychology of the prophetic visions see especially Driver,
Minor Prophets (in the Century Bible), p. 176 f.

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 9
conception is that of the divine glory and majesty;
but there is also brought out the ceaseless activity of
God's providence in the government of the world and
in the ordering of events. I need not say that every
detail of the picture is symbolical.
The prophets with whom visions are most prom
inent are Jeremiah, Ezekiel, and Zechariah: e.g. Jer.
i. 13 f. (the Almond Tree), 13 f. (the Caldron), xxiv
(the Baskets), Ezek. viii-xi (mingled continuations
of the first vision and scenes of what is going on at
Jerusalem), xxxvii (the Valley of Dry Bones) ; Zech.
i (the Horsemen and the Horns and Smiths), ii
(the Measuring-line), iii (the Acquittal of Joshua),
iv (the Candlestick and the Olive Trees), v (the Roll
and the Woman), vii (the Chariots).
3. Symbolical Representation of the Godhead
The prophetic visions of which we have just been
speaking belong, of course, to the highest grades of
Israel's religion. There were naturally other more
naive representations current among the people, and
at earlier or lower stages in the history of the religion.
We are not surprised to find that in the early books
of the Bible, where dealings take place between God
and man, the Godhead is represented under human
form. Man was himself the noblest being with which
he was acquainted; and therefore, in conceiving of a
Being still nobler, he necessarily started from his own
self-consciousness; he began by magnifying his own
qualities, and only by degrees did he learn, not only
to magnify, but to discriminate between them. The

10 Preliminary
first step in safeguarding the spirituality of God is
to ascribe His actions, not to Jahveh Himself but to
His Angel. The nearer relations— those in which the
converse of God and man is more immediate — are
referred to the Angel, the more distant to Jahveh
Himself. Thus, for instance, in the story of Hagar
we read: ' And the Angel of the Lord said unto her,
Behold, thou art with child, and shalt bear a son; and
shalt call his name Ishmael, because the Lord hath
heard thy affliction' (Gen. xvi. 1 1 ) : it is the visible
Angel who speaks, but the Lord (Jahveh) in heaven
who has heard.1
Besides these representations of the divine under
the similitude of the human, there is a group of nat
ural phenomena that in Hebrew literature is specially
associated with God's presence. These are phenom
ena of earthquake and storm, of which there are many
vivid examples in the Psalter (e.g. Pss. xviii. 7-1$,
xxix. 3-9, lxxvii. 16-19, xcvii. 2-5). I will quote a
verse or two of the first great passage in the familiar
Prayer-Book version, just to recall it to your minds :
He made darkness His secret place, His pavilion
round about Him with dark water, and thick clouds
to cover Him. At the brightness of His presence His
clouds removed [more literally, there passed through
His thick clouds — passed through, and came down]
hailstones and coals of fire. The Lord also thundered
out of heaven, and the Highest gave His thunder,
hailstones and coals of fire.
The brilliance of lightning, appearing from time to
time, suggested to the Hebrew that it was not what
1 On this see Kautzsch in Hastings, D. B., extra vol., p. 638.

/ The Symbolism of the Bible n
we know it to be, an electric stream or flash darting
across the landscape, but rather a momentary glimpse
of brightness concealed behind the storm-cloud, and
enveloped in the cloud, but now and then seen through
rents in it. The next step was to compare this bright
ness, dazzling and blinding as it was, to the glory of
God, the splendour of which could not be endured by
any mortal eye if it were seen for more than a pass
ing moment. Then further there were combined with
this the other phenomena of tempest — the rushing
wind, earthquake, great tidal waves, torrents of rain
and hail — all expressive of irresistible power, and, to
crown all, thunder, which was naturally regarded as
a voice speaking out of the cloud.1
The primitive Hebrew, when he saw these things,
associated directly with them the presence of God.
We must remember that as yet he had not learnt to
analyse the processes of his own mind; he had not
learnt to distinguish between fact and figure; it was
just an instinctive physical apprehension, and nothing
more. He was like the Indian
whose untutored mind
Sees God in clouds, and hears Him in the wind.
If he had been asked, he would have said that it was
God whom he saw and heard. In the light of subse
quent history we can understand that what he wanted
to say, and really intended to say, if he could have put
his thought into words, was that these things of
which he was aware through the senses were signs or
' Compare Illingworth, Personality, Human and Divine, p. 77 f.

12 Preliminary
symbols of God's presence. The Hebrew was never
really a materialist, though he might appear to be one.
It was only the imperfection of language and psycho
logical analysis. We can watch the process by which
these were gradually improved and perfected. And
it is but justice to observe that the process is strictly
continuous, and therefore to explain its beginning by
its end — to give the thinker credit for meaning to say
from. the first what he ultimately succeeds in saying.
4. The Symbolism of Worship
Really the whole system of worship under the Old
Covenant was symbolical: in other words, it was the
expression of spiritual ideas through outward visible
and material forms. The ideas that underlay the
forms might be more or less unconscious: but they
were essentially ideas, and spiritual ideas. Again, we
have to remember that we are dealing with a people
that had no advanced psychology, that was not in the
habit of analysing its own processes of thought, and
therefore which had not the means of distinguishing
as we can between symbol and reality. But we can
see, looking back, that the intention was right, that
the distinction was being made with increasing clear
ness ; the horror of idolatry that came to be so char
acteristic of the Jews was only the climax of a long
development. The history of Worship in Israel is the history of
the gradual construction of a system framed on log
ical lines. Of course the fundamental principles are
two: that Jahveh is Israel's God, and that Israel is

/ The Symbolism of the Bible 13
jjahveh's people. As the transcendence of God came
to be more and more understood, it was felt that
everything in Israel really belonged to Him. At the
same time, as a practical compromise, it was held
that the direct consecration of a part satisfied the con
dition of the real consecration of the whole.
Thus the land was holy: it was Jahveh's posses
sion. But the one city that God had chosen for His
dwelling place was Jerusalem; and within Jerusalem
the Temple; and within the Temple the Holy Place,
and still more the Holy of Holies.
In like manner, all times were really holy; but the
Sabbath was set apart within the week, and the Sab
batical year in the cycle of years ; and the year of Ju
bilee when this cycle had seven times run its round.
The practice was naturally less strict than the theory.
If the cancelling of contracts and the reversion of
property in the year of Jubilee had been carried out,
society must have been utterly disorganized.1
Then again every person, at least every Israelite,
was, strictly speaking, dedicated to God. But this
dedication of the whole people was first commuted for
that of the firstborn, and then for the consecration of
the priests to minister specially before the Lord. And
there are other special organs of Jahveh, such as the
prophets and the king.
This is the complete system, as we now find it set
forth in the Pentateuch. But it had not been drawn
out in all its logical ramifications until after the
Return from the Exile. It must not, however, be
1 Kautzsch, op. cit., p. 718 ff.

14 Preliminary
thought that because the logical system was incom
plete, therefore the earlier stages were really less
dominated by ideas. Doubtless thought dwelt more
upon material forms ; but that was only because prim
itive Israel was less advanced in its powers of rational
analysis and expression.
There never was a time when worship did not take
the form of sacrifice ; and from the very first sacrifice
was expressive of ideas. The two ideas that we can
trace furthest are those of the gift and of sacramental
communion. At first these ideas took the form of a
dim instinct; but by degrees the principle which lay
behind religious usage became more and more con
scious and explicit. The impulse to propitiate or to
show gratitude by gifts is deep rooted in human na
ture. On the other hand, as far back as we can go,
the common meal was significant. That which was
food for men was regarded also as food for God, and
was offered to the Deity as such. Of that which re
mained over when a portion of the victim had been
burnt upon the altar, a sacrificial meal was made, of
which the worshipper also partook, thus sharing with
the Deity and receiving a communication of His di
vine qualities.
Another primitive rite was that followed in the
ratification of a covenant. The sacrificial victim or
victims were cut in half, and the portions placed
opposite to each other with a sort of lane between:
and the parties to the covenant passed along this lane,
thereby invoking the fate of the animal upon them
selves — might they be so cut in pieces, if they broke

/ The Symbolism of the Bible 15
the covenant. In Gen. xv the covenant which God
makes with Abraham is represented as confirmed by
ceremonies such as these. The furnace and the
flaming torch which after sundown pass between the
pieces of the sacrifice, symbolize the presence of God
Himself, who takes upon Himself an obligation like
that contracted in a covenant between men.
The great covenant at Sinai is different in its char
acter. Here the leading idea is that of the com
munion established between God and Israel. The
medium of communion is the sacrificial blood, repre
senting the life. Half of it is sprinkled upon the altar
and upon the sacred vessels signifying the divine side
of the covenant, and the other half upon the people,
signifying the human side. Thus the whole people
enters into a close covenant relation with God (see
Exod. xxiv. 5, 6, 8).
These are just examples which may help to show
how deeply the whole cultus and everything con
nected with it was saturated with symbolism.
5. Historical Symbolism
Where the Hebrew historian is writing of events
that were still fresh in men's memory, and where he
is drawing upon good contemporary sources, he is an
excellent narrator. There is no redundance of lan
guage, no straining after effect, no obscurity of detail ;
and yet the human feeling of the story, the pathos and
the tragedy, come out of themselves in a way that is
strangely moving. It is like the simple, dignified, re
served, and yet expressive speech that seems natural

16 Preliminary
to the East, and that in the Bible always has the reli
gious sense behind it. But the first book of the Bible
goes back to a period beyond the reach of any continu
ous tradition. The resources of modern science, of
geology and astronomy, were not then available for
recovering the records of the past. Our forefathers
did not hesitate to suppose that the gap was filled by
a preternatural conveyance of knowledge which they
included in their definition of Inspiration; but we have
learnt to think of Inspiration differently. The more
verifiable examples of its working are of another kind.
We may believe, as we do fully believe, that the Di
vine Spirit has been at work in these early chapters
of Genesis without assuming any anticipation of the
scientific discoveries of modern times. We should not
be wrong in calling the cosmogony of Genesis a sym
bolical representation of the facts. A like description,
indeed, on a lower plane might be given of the Baby
lonian cosmogony : and yet the difference between the
two is very great; so great, that to call it the differ
ence between a true and a false religion, though some
what crude, is hardly an exaggeration. And the
measure of the difference is also the measure of what
we mean when we claim a special inspiration for the
Bible. The cosmogony of the book of Genesis, I cannot
help thinking, has had rather hard measure at the
hands of criticism. Its sublime features have indeed
been pointed out; but along with this there has gone
a certain severity of judgment from the point of view
of modern science. The application of such a point

/. The Symbolism of the Bible 17
of view is really a survival from the days when the
inspiration of the Bible was identified with verbal in
fallibility. Scholars have been compelled to point out,
in the interest of truth, that this definition will not
hold; and in the course of their argument they have
appealed to modern science as furnishing corrections
of fact. But I cannot help hoping that the time has
come when such corrections will no longer be thought
necessary; when, in other words, it will be assumed
from the outset that the representations in Gen. i-iii
are symbolical, and that they were never intended to
be literal. These are perhaps the nearest words we
can use; and yet we do well to remind ourselves
that they are our words, and not the writer's. It is
not that he had two clearly recognized modes of ex
pression before him, and that he deliberately chose
the one and refused the other. His mental effort was
towards truth, but not towards truth in our sense
of strict scientific correspondence with material facts.
His mind moved along the only lines that were possi
ble to it, the lines of pictorial imagination. And upon
those lines it is wonderful how much he has accom
plished. When once we agree to regard his pictures
as symbols, we are free to admire not only their sub
limity and essential truth from the point of view of
religion, but also the remarkable aptness of their
form for the purpose for which they were designed.
To this day, if we had to give an account of the proc
ess of creation to a child, or to an adult at a lower
stage of culture than our own, and who in particular
was ignorant of the first principles of natural science,

18 Preliminary
could we easily do so better than in the language of
Genesis ? Surely this is the right kind of question to
put to ourselves, and not any other.
The early chapters of Genesis are not the only
portion of the Pentateuchal history to which I think
that we may rightly apply the epithet ' symbolical.'
Indeed I suspect that the greater part of the Penta
teuch would be rightly so described in greater or less
degree. The narrative of the Pentateuch culminates
in two great events, the Exodus from Egypt and the
giving of the Law from Mount Sinai. What are we
to say of these? Are they historical in the sense in
which the Second Book of Samuel is historical? I
think we may say that they are not. If we accept — as
I for one feel constrained to accept, at least in broad
outline — the critical theory now so widely held as to
the composition of the Pentateuch, then there is a long
interval, an interval of some four centuries or more,
between the events and the main portions of the record
as we now have it. In such a case we should expect
to happen just what we find has happened. There is
an element of folklore, of oral tradition insufficiently
checked by writing. The imagination has been at
work. If we compare, for instance, the narrative of the
Ten Plagues with the narrative of the Revolt of Ab
salom, we shall feel the difference. The one is nature
itself, with all the flexibility and easy sequence that
we associate with nature. The other is constructed
upon a scheme which is so symmetrical that we can
not help seeing that it is really artificial. I do not

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 19
mean artificial in the sense that the writer, with no
materials before him, sat down consciously and de
liberately to invent them in the form they now have ;
but I mean that, as the story passed from mouth to
mouth, it gradually and almost imperceptibly as
sumed its present shape.
In like manner as to the giving of the Law from
Mount Sinai.
First of all, I conceive that Moses, when he gave
Israel the judgments and decisions that formed the
first nucleus of the Pentateuchal Code, did so sol
emnly in God's name, with something very like the
prophetic formula, ' Thus saith the Lord,' and with
the full assurance that he really was commissioned to
speak by and for the Almighty.
In this way the little nucleus of fundamental laws
and institutions left by Moses came to be regarded —
and not wrongly regarded — as so much divine legisla
tion. And then the imagination played round the idea
of divine legislation, and invested it with what seemed
more adequate circumstances of solemnity and sanc
tity. We have seen how the thunderstorm was con
sidered to be a special manifestation of God's pres
ence, and the thunder was God's voice. Hence, when
the Decalogue is prefaced, ' God spake these words
and said/ nothing could be more natural than that
the words should be represented as coming out of the
storm, with 'thunders and lightnings, and a thick
cloud upon the mount, and the voice of a trumpet ex
ceeding loud ' (Exod. xix. 16). And again when we
remember how, in the covenant of God with Abra-

20 Preliminary
ham, the Divine presence is represented by ' a smok
ing furnace and a flaming torch that passed between '
the pieces of the victims, we are not surprised when
we read that ' Mount Sinai was altogether on smoke,
because the Lord descended upon it in fire; and the
smoke thereof ascended as the smoke of a furnace,
and the whole mount quaked greatly' (ver. 18).
These are just poetic accessories, emblematic of the
central fact that the words proceeded from God. The
literal truth was that God spoke to the heart of Moses :
the poetic truth was that He spoke in thunder and
lightning from the crest of Sinai.
This, I think, may be aptly described as Historical
Symbolism, or Symbolical History.
6. Apocalyptic Symbolism
There is one apocalypse in the Old Testament — the
book of Daniel; and there is one apocalypse in the
New Testament— the Revelation of St. John; and,
roughly speaking, between about the middle of the
second century b. c, and the middle of the second cen
tury a. d., there are a number of Jewish apocalypses
which have not been received into the Canon, though
one of them, that called 2 Esdras (4 Ezra), has a
place in the Old Testament Apocrypha.
It is of the very essence of these apocalyptic books
that they are symbolical. The two leading apoca
lypses, the book of Daniel and the Revelation of St.
John, may be said to be doubly symbolical. That part
of them which is not taken up with apocalyptic sym
bolism is written in the spirit of historical symbolism.

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 21
This, for instance, holds good of the historical por
tion of the book of Daniel, and to some extent of the
Letters to the Seven Churches in .the Revelation of
St. John. But the most characteristic part of both
books is the apocalyptic visions.
These visions, though they are modelled upon the
visions in the older prophets, probably differ from
them — or at least from the earlier of them — in that
they are not so much a record of real visions as liter
ary compositions. The apocalyptic writers had their
minds full of the old prophetic imagery, and in their
hands it assumed new shapes, and was applied to new
purposes. In the book of Daniel the most important visions
are those in chaps, ii, vii. In ch. ii Nebuchadnezzar
is represented as dreaming that he saw a great image
made up of different materials, gold, silver, brass,
iron, and clay. This image is struck by a stone cut
from a rock without hands and reduced to powder
which the wind carries away, while the stone becomes
a mountain and fills the whole earth. The different
materials, gold, silver, &c, represent symbolically a
succession of empires, the Babylonian, Median, Per
sian, and the Greek Empire founded by Alexander
the Great. This last is partly of iron and partly of
clay, as being weakened by division among the suc
cessors of Alexander, such as the Seleucidae in Syria
and the Ptolemies in Egypt. The stone cut out of a
rock without hands is the kingdom of the Messiah
which destroys and supersedes the rest.
The vision in ch. vii is similar in its significance.

22 Preliminary
There we have the same four kingdoms in the guise
of beasts of prey which are brought before the Divine
judgment-seat. The last, and worst, of the beasts is
slain, and the others are deposed, while a fifth figure,
in the form of a man, absorbs their kingdoms into
his own, which is eternal. This eternal kingdom is
in the first instance that of the regenerate Israel
(Dan. vii. 1 8), but in the time of our Lord it has be
come the kingdom of the personal Messiah. We
shall have occasion to follow the history of this con
ception more closely in a later lecture.
The Revelation of St. John is even more entirely
made up of symbols. It is an imaginative presenta
tion of a series of supernatural events, which usher
in the end of the age and a new world.
The historical background of the book is the Roman
Empire, concentrated in the person of the emperor
and in the city of Rome, and the worship of the em
peror, which from Augustus onwards had been more
or less encouraged but in the reign of Domitian was
enforced by the State. This enforcement, in the case
of Christians, necessarily involved persecution. And
the whole soul of the prophet — the book throughout
is called a ' prophecy ' — rose up in passionate indig
nation against this idolatrous and (as it seemed to
him) blasphemous worship and the tyranny with
which it was allied. He paints both in lurid colours
under the figures of the two Beasts, who are the in
struments of the Dragon or Satan. He has also a
grandiose picture of Rome, under the pseudonym of
Babylon, and exults over her impending downfall,

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 23
which he works into his anticipations of the end of
the world regarded as near at hand.
Now I suppose the chief problem raised by the book
is how it is that this prophecy has been so imperfectly
fulfilled. The prophet speaks in tones of intense con
viction. We know how solemnly at the end of his
book he adjures those who read or copy it not to tam
per with his prophecy either by addition or subtrac
tion, but to leave it exactly as it was written (Rev.
xxii. 18, 19). Almost in the same breath he insists
on the imminence of the end, repeating for the third
time the announcement, 'Behold, I come quickly'
(vv. 7, 12, 20). And yet the Lord has not come;
Babylon the Great has not fallen and become a dwell
ing for wild beasts. Rome still stands; and if the
Roman Empire has perished, it was by no sudden
divine catastrophe, but by slow exhaustion and decay.
It is the problem of all eschatology. We observe
that in this case the disciple has neglected, or seems
to have neglected, the Master's warning that it was
not even for the most privileged to know the times
or the seasons which the Father had reserved under
His own supreme control.
If we are to explain the prophet's language on this
side, it can only be by invoking the principle of sym
bolism — which, as we have seen, is of the very essence
of all apocalypse — and by saying that he describes in
terms of time that which is not really a question of
time but of certainty in the nature of things.1 God
1 This is admirably expressed by Sir W. M. Ramsay, Letters of the
Seven Churches, p. 112 f. (cf. /. T. S. July, 1907, p. 496).

24 Preliminary
and Christ must reign; the powers of evil must be
overthrown. And, as a matter of fact, at that very
moment when the prophet wrote, a great step forward
was being taken — the greatest step in the history of
the world — towards that final consummation.
But really the most illuminating thing in regard to
the whole class of questions raised by the Apocalypse
is an incident and saying in the Life of our Lord.
When St. Luke represents the Seventy as returning
from their mission, they eagerly {pera xapfe) tell
their Master that they found even demons yield to
them in His name. Thereupon He says : ' I beheld
Satan fall as lightning from heaven ' (Luke x. 17,
18). Really the Apocalypse is just an expansion of
that. There is, as it were, a heavenly counterpart of
the struggle which goes on upon earth. Vast mys
terious forces are arrayed against each other in what
St. Paul calls ' heavenly regions ' (t« iirovpdvia). Our
Lord laid His finger on the crisis in this battle. Those
few successful exorcisms meant immeasurably more
than the missioners who performed them could
imagine. They meant that the crisis in that age-long
conflict had passed, or was passing, and that the
power of Satan was really broken.
7. The Symbolical Language of Christ
In the last illustration I have been anticipating, and
have really encroached upon the next — and last —
stage in the evolution of my subject. The uses of
symbolism of which we have so far been speaking
have been diverse in their character — some compara-

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 25
tively simple and straightforward, others difficult.
But the chief impression that I have desired to bring
home to you is of the immense range which symbol
ism covers in the Bible, and of the extent to which it
has to be reckoned with at every turn. This is, I con
ceive, a necessary preliminary to the consideration of
what will be felt to be the most important part of my
subject, the use of symbolism by our Lord Himself.
Here, again, some things are evident at first sight.
The long list of Parables shows how naturally (if we
may say so) the teaching of our Lord assumed a
symbolical form. There were, of course, some prec
edents in the Old Testament, such as the parable of
Jotham and Nathan's address to David. We have
also quite recently had a collection of Parables put to
gether from the Talmud: Fiebig, Altjudische Gleich-
nisse u. die Gleichnisse Jesu (Tubingen u. Leipzig,
1904). You will remember the account that is given of the
object of teaching by parable in St. Mark, ch. iv. 11,
12, and parallels : ' Unto you is given the mystery of
the kingdom of God : but unto them that are without,
all things are done in parables : that seeing they may
see, and not perceive ; and hearing they may hear, and
not understand/ &c. Many critics have taken excep
tion to this, especially — and very characteristically — •
Jiilicher, and a number of others following in his
wake, on the ground that the Parables of our Lord are
too limpid in their clearness to have anything esoteric
about them or to be used in any sense for purposes of
concealment. Indeed, it was becoming almost a com-

26 Preliminary
monplace in certain circles that the whole of this pas
sage might be assumed to be unhistorical. But now
it is beginning to be seen that, after all, the Kingdom
of heaven had its mysteries, some of which were ap
propriately expressed in the form of parables, and so
at once partly concealed and partly revealed. The
fact that to this day opinions diverge so widely about
the nature of the Kingdom should have been enough
to guard the Evangelists from the charge of per
versity in suggesting that there was anything in the
Parables that could not be understood at once by the
meanest capacity.
And yet, broadly speaking, it is true that many of
the Parables are readily intelligible, and that they ap
peal to the poor and simple even more strongly than
to the learned. Our Lord spoke very much in the
vernacular, and the common people heard Him gladly.
He spoke, as the people themselves speak, in bold
and strongly-marked metaphors. This is part of
what Luther meant when he said : ' The words of our
Saviour Christ are exceeding powerful: they have
hands and feet' {Table Talk, No. Hi).
But there was another aspect of our Lord's words
that contributed to the same effect. Perhaps it is a
little strained to call this a use of symbols. And yet
this too may come under the head of ' indirect de
scription/ or at least of description that is not meant
to be taken too literally. I refer to the frequency with
which our Lord has recourse to what might be called
' extreme expressions.' 1 For instance, when He
• Cf. Johannes Weiss in Theol. Literaturzeilung (1895), col. 644.

/. The Symbolism of the Bible 27
speaks of plucking out the right eye, or cutting off
the right hand (Matt. v. 29, 30) ; or again when he
speaks of faith removing mountains (Matt. xxi. 21).
These are very forcible expressions, the last of which
I believe certainly does imply a great command even
over external nature; and yet it must not be taken
too literally — any more than we are meant to take
exactly to the letter the saying about the mote and
the beam in the eye (Matt. vii. 4, 5). It is evident
that this strong manner of speech was really charac
teristic of the popular preaching of our Lord.
But the point to which I most wish to call attention
is the remarkable extent to which our Lord accepts,
and adapts to His own purposes, a body of symbolism
which He found already in existence as part of the
common stock of ideas of those among whom He
lived and moved. For instance, how remote from
the thought of our time, and how full of meaning for
the thought of the time at which it was spoken, is the
following : ' The unclean spirit, when he is gone out
of the man, passeth through waterless places, seeking
rest, and findeth it not. Then he saith, I will return
into my house whence I came out; and when he is
come, he findeth it empty, swept, and garnished.
Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven other
spirits more evil than himself, and they enter in and
dwell there; and the last state of that man becometh
worse than the first' (Matt. xii. 43-45).
One of the most instructive passages for the pur
pose I have in view is the account of the Temptation.
In this our Lord goes to what may seem great lengths

28 Preliminary
in the use that He makes of the traditional machinery
of Judaism. There are three scenes in which the Son
of God is assailed by the Tempter. We are reminded
of that assembly in heaven at the beginning of the
book of Job, at which Satan presents himself, and is
asked from whence he came, and he replies, ' From
going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up
and down in it ' (Job i. 7). He is then permitted to
try what he can do to shake the constancy of Job,
just as in the narrative of the Gospels he aims his
attempt higher still. The change of place by levi-
tation to the pinnacle of the Temple and the exceed
ing high mountain recalls to us especially the book of
Ezekiel. For instance, in Ezek. viii. 2, 3, a fiery shape
appears to the prophet : ' And he put forth the form
of an hand, and took me by a lock of mine head : and
the spirit lifted me up between the earth and the
heaven, and brought me in the visions of God to
Jerusalem, to the door of the gate of the inner court
that looketh toward the north.' This is no doubt the
original which suggested that strange statement in
the apocryphal Gospel according to the Hebrews, re
ferred to by Origen and Jerome, ' My mother the
Holy Ghost took me by one of my hairs and carried
me away to the great mountain Tabor ' (Nestle, N. T.
Gr. Suppl, p. yy). There are a number of examples
in the book of Ezekiel of these celestial journeys (cf.
iii. 12; xi. 1, 24; xxxvii. 1 ; xliii. 5). Ezekiel is by the
river Chebar in Mesopotamia, but he is carried by the
Spirit to Jerusalem and sees what is going on there.
All this is of the nature of machinery or outside

/ The Symbolism of the Bible 29
setting. For us the story of the Temptation has a
deep spiritual meaning; for us it expresses, if we may
so. say, the problem that presented itself to the mind
of our Lord at the first outset of His ministry — how
He is to exercise the wonderful endowment of which
He was conscious, how He is to discharge His Mes
sianic mission.
I am reminded of two pictorial representations of
the scene. In Tissot's well-known book there is a
good deal of careful study in the reproduction of the
Temple, but the Tempter is just the conventional
fiend, with ram's horns and exaggerated bat's wings.
In marked contrast to this is a picture which I saw
nearly thirty years ago in a private collection, ' The
Temptation of Christ in the Wilderness/ by W.
Dyce, R.A. All that we see here is a monotonous
landscape and a Figure seated upon a stone, with the
hands clasped. and an expression of intense thought
on the beautiful but by no means effeminate features.
The contrast would be still greater, if we took the
mediaeval conception as it still survived in Memling
and Holbein and Diirer and Luther. Tissot at least
makes his outlines vague and shadowy, whereas in
the art and thought of the Renaissance and Reforma
tion period they are as sharp and definite as possible.
It would, however, be a mistake if we were to insist
too much upon this contrast, as though the modern
presentation were right and true and the ancient or
mediaeval wrong and untrue. Each is really right in
its place ; they mean fundamentally the same thing, and
it is only the symbolical expression that is different.

30 Preliminary
The story of the Temptation naturally goes with
the incident to which I have just referred, the Return
of the Seventy and our Lord's announcement in con
nexion with it. The vision of the Fall of Satan was
the counterpart or reflection in heaven of the casting
out of demons on earth. It meant that Satan was
really vanquished, the victory over him virtually won.
I said that we might regard the Apocalypse of St.
John as an expansion of this idea. And, conversely,
I think we may say that our Lord's language dis
tinctly belongs to the apocalyptic scheme.
There are really two remarkable things in the pas
sage just referred to. The first is this — the extent to
which our Lord adopts the current apocalyptic lan
guage. The phrase about Satan falling from heaven
belongs to the same category with those about Satan
being bound and cast into the lake of fire ; it is essen
tially apocalyptic and essentially Jewish. To us it
seems perhaps at first sight fantastic, and we are sur
prised that our Lord Jesus Christ, with all His pene
trating, insight into truth and reality, should con
descend to make use of the strange ideas that were
current around Him.
That is perhaps our first thought. But then our
second thought is, when we look into the matter a little
more closely, that after all there is no real incongru
ity. There is nothing really fantastic in our Lord's
meaning. The facts of the situation were, as I said
a short time ago, that the disciples came back from
their mission reporting that they had found themselves
able to heal a few demoniacs. I think there is no

I. The Symbolism of the Bible 31
doubt whatever that such things did occur. Not only
did our Lord Himself heal these unfortunate beings,
but it is assumed in the Gospels that even the Phari
sees and their disciples sometimes healed them (' If I
by Beelzebub cast out devils, by whom do your sons
cast them out?'). That is the bare fact, the literal
fact, that the disciples had performed these cures —
a small enough matter, we might think, accomplished
in an obscure corner of Palestine. But, small as.it is,
our Lord sees that it has a cosmic significance. It
means nothing less than that this haunting power of
temptation and evil, which dogs the steps of humanity
wherever it goes, will at last come to an end; its
ultimate fate is sealed; the decisive blow has been
struck, and the effect will be only a question of time.
Shall we say that such insight as that was un
worthy of the Son of God, or that it was possible to
any besides Him? The form that His saying takes
is simply an example of His use of symbols.
Just one more example of a rather different kind.
We are familiar with the biblical view of the mission
of John the Baptist. We know that he was to go be
fore the face of the Lord in the spirit and power of
Elijah, to prepare for Him an obedient people (Luke
i. 17). The history of this designation of the Baptist
as Elijah is interesting, and I think important.
To whom do we owe it? To none other than our
Lord Himself. I will just rapidly run over the evi
dence, and then make a few comments upon it. As
they were coming down from the Mount of Transfig
uration, the disciples asked our Lord, saying, 'The

32 Preliminary
scribes say that Elijah must first come. And He said
unto them, Elijah indeed cometh first, and restoreth
all things : and how is it written of the Son of Man,
that He should suffer many things and be set at
nought? But I say unto you, that Elijah is come, and
they have also done unto him whatsoever they listed,
even as it is written of him' (Mark ix. n-13). St.
Matthew in the parallel passage (Matt. xvii. 10-13)
adds, 'T' ;n understood the disciples that He spake
unto them of John the Baptist.' The fundamental
document there is the Mark-Gospel. Another passage
is what is often called Logian : ' All the prophets and
the law prophesied until John. And if ye are willing
to receive it, this is Elijah, which is to come. He that
hath ears to hear, let him hear ' (Matt. xiii. 13-15).
There we are expressly told that it was our Lord who
gave the name to John. A common opinion was that
our Lord Himself was Elijah (Mark vi. 15 and par
allels; comp. Mark viii. 28 and parallels). John him
self had no idea that he was Elijah. The Fourth
Gospel relates how a deputation came down from Jeru
salem to inquire who he was. They asked if he was
Elijah; and he answered that he was not (John i. 21).
I pause for a moment to point out what an authentic
touch this is — all the more authentic, because it runs
counter to the general Christian tradition.
Here again we have another feature in the apoca
lyptic scheme. The Jews expected that Elijah would
come before the Messiah. They did this on the
strength of Mai. iv. 5, 6, 'Behold, I will send you
Elijah the prophet before the great and terrible day

/. The Symbolism of the Bible 33
of the Lord come/ &c. Here too the Jewish expec
tation was fantastic and superstitious. As Herod be
lieved that our Lord was John the Baptist actually
risen from the dead (Mark vi. 14 and parallels), so
they doubtless believed that Elijah would rise from
the dead. Our Lord does not adopt this part of the
belief. He takes the work of John just as it was, and
by what a German writer calls His own ' dogmatic '
or authoritative verdict, He pronounces H'a to be Eli
jah. He treats him as the Elijah of prophecy. And in
doing this He is quite aware that His verdict is (so to
speak) esoteric, that it was one that everybody would
not understand : ' If ye are willing to receive it, this is
Elijah . . . He that hath ears to hear let him hear.'
I do not propose to go further than this. I have
given three remarkable, and I think I may say typical,
examples of our Lord's use of symbolism. I would in
vite you to think them over, and to see whether they
do not suggest a clue to some other things besides
themselves. Two of the three examples belong to the
region of apocalyptic. And I am coming to think my
self that we shall have to take more account of this
region than perhaps we have done. I take some
blame to myself for not having perceived what I now
seem to perceive before. I do not know that I shall
have very much to retract, because I have always
wished to speak guardedly on this subject; and yet
I confess that a good many things appear to me
otherwise than they did.
I must reserve the fuller exposition of these differ-

34 Preliminary
ences for the present. The lecture that I have been
giving is intended rather to prepare the way for their
discussion. I shall be glad if it should prove to be of
any service towards that end. But, apart from any
thing that it. may contribute in the way of argument
and inference, I hope that it may help to commend a
certain attitude of mind.
That attitude, I think, consists mainly in three
things :
i. In a spirit of reverence for old ideas, which may
perhaps be transcended, but which discharged a very
important function in their day;
2. In a spirit of patience which, because those ideas
may be transcended, does not at once discard and re
nounce them, but seeks to extract their full signifi
cance ;
3. In an open mind for the real extent of this sig
nificance. We have our treasure, perhaps, in earthen
vessels, but the vessels are themselves very deserving
of study. I would say rather that, for the purpose
before us, we should not think of them exactly as
earthen, but as made of some finer and more trans
parent material which permits us to see through to
.the light within.
I will venture to add that this attitude is not only
right for the particular subject in connexion with
which it is suggested, but for all that has to do with
the history of Christianity, and indeed for all serious
study of Religion.

II. CAMBRIDGE LECTURES
II. TWENTY YEARS OF RESEARCH
III. TWENTY YEARS OF RESEARCH (continued)
IV. SURVEY AND CRITICISM OF CURRENT VIEWS
V. THE DEITY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST AS
EXPRESSED IN THE GOSPELS

II
TWENTY YEARS OF RESEARCH
Those of us who make much use of German tools
and who try to acknowledge adequately the debt they
incur in doing so run the risk of becoming tedious to
their own countrymen. The world is apt to grow
weary of hearing Aristides called the Just. And
yet, if one is constantly consulting Aristides, that is
the least that is his due.
On great problems, and from the point of view of
research, it is a secondary merit in a book to be
right. I should be far from laying this down as a
general rule ; but within the particular conditions that
I have in view. I think it holds good. Within these
conditions, I suppose that the greatest merit of all is
to deserve to be right. One may be right by accident,
or through acquiescing in some one else's opinion that
happens to be right. But to deserve to be right is
another matter. For that the conditions are exacting
and severe. First, there must be comprehensive
knowledge; then, there must be sound method; and
lastly, there must be the right temper or balance of
mind — a combination that is by no means easy to
obtain. I must not pursue this subject as you will see at
once that it is capable of being pursued. I only in-
37

38 Cambridge Lectures
terpolate these few words to explain what I mean
when I go on to say — still from the same restricted
point of view — that, while I agree more often with
my own countrymen, I learn more from the Germans.
Again I must pause for a moment, to guard myself
against doing injustice. It would ill become me to
complain of my own countrymen in this matter.
When I came back to Oxford as Ireland Professor
four and twenty years ago, the doctrine that I ven
tured to preach was: Don't let us be too ambitious;
let us plan our work on a large scale, and be content
to take the humbler departments first. Let us make
sure of our ground as we go on. Let us begin by see
ing that we have trustworthy texts ; then let us take
up the literary problems, and work them out as well
as we can ; let us practise our hands on commentaries
and the like. In this way we shall gain experience,
and make ourselves fit to aim at higher things.
There was in my mind something of Browning's:
Oh, if we draw a circle premature,
Heedless of far gain,
Greedy for quick returns of profit, sure
Bad is our bargain!
That is true of learning, and true also of religion ;
but it is not the whole truth of either. I suppose that
really a programme such as I have described was
more congenial to my own mind; I knew that I was
not myself ready, and greatly doubted whether the
nation at large was ready, for anything more heroic.
It might be said, too, that a similar attitude was

II Twenty Years of Research 39
really characteristic of the great Cambridge scholars
of the third quarter of the last century; so that the
work of the last twenty years has been very much a
continuation of theirs.
However this may be, if we take such a programme
and measure by it the performance of the last twenty
years, English theologians have not been idle. First,
as to texts: the Latin versions — an immense field —
have been pretty nearly mastered (at least so far
as the publication of texts is concerned), and that
mainly from Oxford. The Syriac versions are di
vided between Cambridge and Oxford, with a balance
on the side of Cambridge; there too the most impor
tant work has been done. The Coptic brings us back
to Oxford, where something has also been done upon
the Armenian. Strange to say, the Continent has
really little to place by the side of this, though equiva
lent work has been done in other spheres. Again,
there is the mass of new material rendered available
by Dr. Charles and Dr. James, the great Cambridge
LXX, and admirable outlying work of the highest
quality from both Universities. I am thinking of
such things as Mr. C. H. Turner's Canons, and the
Cambridge Texts and Studies.
Then, as to literary problems: more has really
been done, at both Universities, than quite appears
upon the surface; though Sir John Hawkins's Horae
Synopticae is a leading authority on the Continent
as well as here — I might say, the leading authority,
because it is the one book that everybody trusts.
There is also a quantity of carefully prepared ma-

40 Cambridge Lectures
terial, like the Synopses of Rushbrooke, and Dr. A.
Wright, and Moulton and Geden's Concordance.
And now we have to add two very valuable works,
Johannine Vocabulary and Johannine Grammar, by
Dr. Edwin A. Abbott.
Meanwhile at Cambridge, the home of commen
taries, the succession of the great triumvirate has
been worthily kept up by the Dean of Westminster.
and Dr. Swete ; in Oxford perhaps our best strength
has gone into the Old Testament, though we too have
done something also at the New. The country as a
whole has put a great deal of honest work into Hast
ings's Dictionaries and The Encyclopaedia Biblica.
We have been gradually educating ourselves; and
our self-education has taken especially this form.
One is accustomed to think modestly of our Eng
lish theology, in the technical sense. But, after all,
when the items for the last twenty years come to be
added up, they make quite a considerable total. And
much of what has been done is sound and solid work,
not subject to the ebb and flow of opinion, but a per
manent possession.
Nor ought we to forget, on rather different lines,
the great work that has been done by the little com
pany of friends who produced Lux Mundi, in the
sphere where thought and practice meet. That work
has been a public force of no small importance in
the history of the period; but it stands rather apart
from our present survey. Nearly all the other work
that I have mentioned has been of a sober hue. It
has been steady and sound, but it has not dealt much

II. Twenty Years of Research 41
in experiment ; and it has been especially chary of ex
periment on the highest matters. If Dr. Hatch had
lived, we should probably have had more of enter
prise to chronicle. Dr. Moberly's Atonement and
Personality was a work of marked originality; and
we have also had experiments from Dr. Edwin Ab
bott, and some others of less importance. But, as a
rule, English work of the last twenty years has been
neutral or defensive. I fully believe that this period,
not only is coming, but has come to an end. There
is evidence around us on many sides that a new and
more adventurous and inventive spirit is abroad. I
have been speaking only of the past; and it is with
reference to the past that I think we feel the contrast
when we turn to Germany.
We are not called upon to judge. There may be
some things that we should deprecate, along with
much that we should find to admire. But the strong
point of Teutonic science is its persistent spirit of for
ward movement. With us, if a good piece of work is
done, it lasts for a generation; whereas in Germany,
no sooner does a definite result appear to be gained,
than new questions begin to be asked, and new com
binations attempted.
Another excellence is the close inter-connexion and
cohesion of everything that is done. With some
twenty-one fully staffed Universities in the German
Empire alone (besides those in German Switzerland
and Austria), each watching all the rest, and all
throwing their knowledge into a common stock, what
ever advance is made is made all along the line.

42 Cambridge Lectures
When a German scholar sets himself a particular
thesis, his first step is to get to know as nearly as he
can all that has been written about it. In this way
every step is based upon previous steps, and the con
tinuity of research is never broken. With us, dash
ing but desultory raids are apt to take the place of
what is in Germany the steady disciplined advance
of a regularly mobilized army. It is true that this
advance may include many a movement that is unsuc
cessful, many an experiment that fails; but there is
never any lack of criticism to correct mistakes, and
the ranks soon close again after defeat.
For these reasons, which I am afraid I have been
rather long in explaining, the review of the situation
which I am about to attempt will be mainly concerned
with what has been done in Germany ; and one conse
quence will be that I shall have to tax your patience
with a string of rather unfamiliar names and titles.
If you will kindly bear with this for a while, I hope
that something constructive and of general interest
may emerge by degrees.
The present moment is favourable for the retro
spect that I am proposing. Three books have recently
appeared which cover the ground that I desire to
cover: Weinel, Jesus im neunzehnten Jahrhundert
('Jesus in the Nineteenth Century'), Tubingen u.
Leipzig, 1903; Steinmann, Die geistige Oifenbarung
Gottes in der geschichtlichen Person Jesu ('The
Spiritual Revelation of God in the Historical Person
of Jesus Christ'), Gottingen, 1903; Schweitzer, Von

II. Twenty Years of Research 43
Reimarus zu Wrede (' From Reimarus to Wrede ' —
a title very nearly equivalent to Weinel's ; it is a sur
vey of a century and a quarter of research and dis
cussion), Tubingen, 1906.
Weinel is a member of a party that among the
writers of the present day is numerous and clearly
defined; and he is one of its most sanguine members.
He is not much troubled by misgivings. He has his
solution for most things in heaven and earth, and he
regards it as his mission to preach these solutions
far and wide. The book might be called a typical
product of current theological liberalism. Its object
is to carry on the liberal propaganda. For this it is
in many ways well adapted; it is popular in style,
and frankly and brightly written. Though it repre
sents views that are largely destructive, it has also a
positive side which is put forward with considerable
fervour. But I imagine that it will leave behind in
the minds of many readers a number of questions to
which it gives no sufficient answer.
Steinmann is a writer of a different order. He has
not the same popular gifts; his style is cumbersome,
and I cannot help thinking that his book might with
advantage have been much shorter. His saving vir
tue is thoughtful independence, a spirit calmly object
ive. He stands aloof from parties, and criticizes in
turn now one side and now the other. But, although
his ostensible purpose is reconstruction, he makes
upon me the impression of giving up more than he
need. This is done not so much in the way of argu
ment as in the way of assumption. Though more

44 Cambridge Lectures
conservative in temper, Steinmann shares a good
many of the premises of Weinel and his friends. He
is himself a Moravian, and this fact has deeply in
fluenced his thinking. He shows an almost nervous
dread of anything in the least degree external in reli
gion. The tendency is common in Germany, but it
appears in Steinmann in an extreme form. It is
strange that it should not be seen that, however in
ward a conviction may be and however internal the
process by which it is reached, it must sooner or later
express itself externally. Spirit must needs clothe
itself with body; and it is only in this outward form
that one spirit can communicate with another. The
external may come in at different points in the proc
ess, but the internal without the external cannot ex
ist. We in this country have learnt this lesson from
Dr. Moberly and his friends ; and I do not think that
it will be soon forgotten.
I cannot adopt all Steinmann's presuppositions; I
could not accept all his conclusions; but I welcome
much of his criticism both on the right hand and on
the left. This, and the attitude which it represents,
is to me the best thing in the book.
From a general point of view, Weinel's book is up
to a good average, and Steinmann's perhaps some
what above it, but the third book that I mentioned
seems to me in many ways more notable than either.
A. Schweitzer's Von Reimarus zu Wrede is the most
striking work of its kind that I have read for some
time. The author is young — he is a Privatdozent
at Strassburg — but, if he has something of the weak-

II. Twenty Years of Research 45
ness, he has also in full degree the strength of youth.
He knows that he is one-sided, but he glories in his
one-sidedness. He takes the line that only by the
pursuit of a relentless logic is it possible to arrive
at the truth. His own logic is relentless, and he does
at least succeed in presenting that side of the truth
which he wishes to bring out in a very vivid and im
pressive manner. The book is written with a kind
of enthusiasm; a single impetus carries it onwards
from beginning to end. There is no respect of per
sons; the author has his strong likes and dislikes,
which he is at no pains to suppress. As a rule he
favours the innovators ; drastic criticism generally en
lists his sympathies. He has an imaginative grasp
of his subject; he writes with clearness and vigour,
and with a more than ordinary command of metaphor.
He has a good sense of proportion, and groups his
subjects happily. But perhaps the most noticeable
thing about him is the sturdy individuality with which
he has chosen his own line and holds to it through
thick and thin.
There is naturally a great difference of scale be
tween Schweitzer's book and that of these lectures.
He appeals to the technical student, and can assume
a large amount of previous knowledge which it would
not be right for me to assume. I differ from him,
as will be seen, somewhat profoundly. And yet it
would be no more than just to describe a full half
of these lectures as really based upon Schweitzer's
labours. At least they would have taken a different
and less satisfactory shape, if I had not had Schweit-

46 Cambridge Lectures
zer's work before me. If I should succeed in giving
to my treatment of the subject definiteness and lucid
ity and logical coherence of outline, it will be very
largely due to him. There is no recent book of the
kind that I have found so helpful.
The conspicuous merit of this writer is that from
first to last he holds a single clue firmly in his hand.
This clue is the apocalyptic teaching that plays a
rather prominent part in the Gospels, especially in
the Synoptics. The most distinctive aspect of the re
search of the last twenty years has been the way
in which the questions raised by this teaching have
steadily come to the front.
But before I endeavour to explain how this has
come about and what it means, it is necessary that
I should first spend a few moments in explaining the
terms that I shall have to use.
There is, in particular, one long and rather ugly
word that I am afraid cannot be avoided. ' Escha-
tology ' is the doctrine of the ' last things/ or that
group of ideas which is concerned with the catas
trophe, or series of catastrophes, which ushers in and
accompanies the end of the world. These ideas are
embodied in writings which bear the general name of
' apocalypse/ or ' revelation ' of the signs and process
of the end. We have, of course, one classical example
of an apocalypse in the book which comes last in our
Bible — the Apocalypse or Revelation of St. John.
Really, however, as we now know, this book did not
at all stand alone. There was indeed one book in the
Old Testament as well as in the New which had very

II Twenty Years of Research 47
largely the character of an apocalypse — the book of
Daniel. This book can, as it happens, be dated with a con
siderable degree of exactness between the years 167-
165 B. c. It was not absolutely the first apocalyptic
writing, but it is the first that has come down to us
as a separate book. Between the time of the Mac-
cabean rising and the rising under Barcochba, the last
convulsive effort of the Jewish state in 132-135 A. d.,
there appeared a whole series of apocalypses one after
the other — the Book of Enoch, the Psalms of Sol
omon, the Assumption of Moses, the Book of Ju
bilees, the Ascension of Isaiah, probably the original
of the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs, the so-
called Fourth Ezra, the Apocalypse of Baruch, the
Book of the Secrets of Baruch.
In the middle of the last century only two of this
long list of books were at all generally known — the
Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs in its later form,
and the work now commonly called Fourth Ezra;
printed as chapters iii-xiv of Second Esdras in our
Old Testament Apocrypha.
The middle of the last century supplies a good
landmark. It was in the year 185 1 that Dillmann
published the Ethiopic text with translation of the
Book of Enoch, and Hilgenfeld his important collec
tion of texts entitled Judische Apokalyptik in 1857.
At the present time nearly all the books, through the
indefatigable labours of Dr. R. H. Charles of Dublin
and Oxford, and Dr. M. R. James and Dr. Rendel
Harris of Cambridge, are readily accessible. It will

48 Cambridge Lectures
be understood what a difference this has made to the
whole field of study.
The period during which the Apocalypses have
been practically available would thus cover a little
more than half a century. But it always takes some
time before new knowledge is brought to bear. It
is for this reason that I have limited the retrospect
of the present lecture to the last twenty years. Bal-
densperger's Das Selbstbewusstsein Jesu im Lichte
der messianischen Hoffnungen seiner Zeit ('The Self-
consciousness of Jesus in the light of the Messianic
Hopes of His Time ') is dated Strassburg, 1888 (ed.
3, 1903). This was the first book to collect on a large
scale the apocalyptic data with a view to the light
thrown by them upon the subject-matter of the Gos
pels, though it is fair to add that Dr. Edersheim 1 had
already utilized many of these data in his Life and
Times of Jesus the Messiah, published first in 1883.
Baldensperger had one or two precursors on a
smaller scale, but roughly speaking he may be said to
have inaugurated the apocalyptic or eschatological
period of Gospel study. Since that time we might
almost apply to the study of the Gospels that enig
matic phrase, 'the kingdom of heaven suffereth vio
lence, and the violent take it by force.' If we do not
press the ' violent ' too hard, it may stand for the
apocalyptists. The dominance of this school may be
said to extend over about twenty years.
1 Dr. Edersheim was a Jewish scholar, born in Vienna, who embraced
Christianity and ultimately became a clergyman in the Church of Eng
land. The book I have mentioned is still of value from its great wealth
of illustrative matter.

II. Twenty Years of Research 49
What then is the bearing of all this body of litera
ture on the study of the Gospels? So long as only
one or two of the apocalyptic books were known it
was natural that no great attention should be paid
to them. They were hardly recognized in their true
character: the book of Daniel, for instance, was
hardly treated as an apocalypse, and the Revelation
of St. John was regarded as a work sui generis,
the contents of which received the strangest in
terpretations. But when these two or three grew
into a whole library spread over some three hun
dred years, a different estimate had to be put upon
them. It may be well at this point to raise a question
which in the strict chronological order of events did
not come up until later. Apart from Christianity,
what position did the apocalyptic writings hold in
relation to the Jewish thought of the time ? Two dis
tinct streams are observable in Jewish thought about
the Christian era: on the one hand there were the
apocalypses, which are now seen to have been far
more important and more widely diffused than had
been supposed; on the other hand there was the legal
teaching, based upon the study and application of
the Mosaic Law, which we associate with the Phari
sees as they are described for us in the Gospels, the
same type of teaching that at a later date was em
bodied in the Talmud. Within the last few years,
since the beginning of the present century, quite a
lively controversy has arisen between Christian and
Jewish scholars on this question of the relative im-

50 Cambridge Lectures
portance of what may be called the legalist or Rab
binical and the apocalyptic elements in Judaism.
On the Christian side the controversy was opened
by a work on Judaism in the time of Christ by Prof.
W. Bousset of Gottingen, Die Religion des Juden-
tums im neutestamentlichen Zeit alter (' The Religion
of Judaism in the New Testament Period/ Berlin,
1903; a second edition, much re-arranged and re
written, appeared in October, 1906). The survey was
largely based on the literature of which I have just
been speaking as either newly discovered or but re
cently published in a form generally accessible. It
is not surprising that this should have brought up
some eminent Jewish scholars, who protested some
what indignantly that the apocalypses had nothing to
do with the really representative or official Judaism.
These writings, they maintained, were all more or
less abnormal, if not definitely heretical. The only
authorized form of Judaism was that which found
expression in the Talmud. Along with the different
estimate of the representative character of the apoca-
lypses there also went a different estimate of their
moral value. To a Christian, and indeed it may be
said to a modern, the apocalypses contain much that
is at least quite as attractive as Rabbinism. The
fact is that the Judaism of the time of Christ had a
wider and more open horizon than that of a hundred
years later. The result of the terrific and almost
superhuman efforts that the Jews made to throw off
the Roman yoke was a long reaction which has lasted
almost to our own time. When the great effort

II. Twenty Years of Research 51
failed, Judaism withdrew into its shell; it contracted
its outlook and turned in upon itself. It gave up the
hope of divine intervention that had at one time
seemed so near, and was content to brood upon its
past. The Talmud is so vast, and the language in which
it is written has been as a rule so unfamiliar to Chris
tian scholars, that we have been accustomed to think
of the Jews, and they have thought of themselves,
as alone possessing the key to it. As a matter of
fact, Prof. Bousset did not possess the key. Such
knowledge as he had of the Talmud was acquired at
second hand. His book was really meritorious and
useful, and it rested upon a considerable basis of
learning, but it did present this weak side to his
critics; and, although he replied with a pamphlet a
few months later (1903), he showed his conscious
ness of the fact, only insisting that they in turn did
less than justice to the literature that they practically
put on one side. The honours were really divided;
either party showed itself one-sided in turn. The
irritation of the Jewish scholars was greater than
it need have been or sought to have been. We can
now strike the balance more dispassionately; and a
lesson has been learnt which we may hope will bear
fruit in the future.
We must think of the Jewish Church and nation
in the time of our Lord as presenting a more varied
and broken surface than we have been in the habit
of supposing. It is true that in Jerusalem and at the
centre the scribes and Pharisees (i. e. the Rabbinical

52 Cambridge Lectures
type of religion) really predominated, as the Gospels
would lead us to believe they did, and that they were
not wholly given over to formalism and hypocrisy.
But we may imagine that in the hill country of Judea
and Galilee, and in many a quiet corner besides, there
were households like those of Zacharias and Eliza
beth or Joseph and Mary where less conventional
ideas were silently cherished; and not only so, but
even in the official circles themselves all would not
be on the same dead level. The mere existence of
books like the Psalms of Solomon and the Book
of Jubilees and the Assumption of Moses and the
Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs is proof that
there was a great deal of genuine religion with its
roots struck deep in the writings of Psalmists and
Prophets. Perhaps at no time either before or since
has there been so much aspiration, so much ardent
longing for a future in which God should reign more
visibly and triumphantly than ever in the past. In
this attitude of intense expectation culminated the
preparation in history for the coming of Christ; it
was in the midst of it that He came, and to it that
He appealed. Doubtless the expectation expressed
itself in forms that seem to us strangely materialized ;
but these forms were not so much hard and fast, dry
and scholastic, as fluctuating and kaleidoscopic; in
part they were the outcome of conscious symbolism,
and even where they were not this, we have to re
member that the dividing-line between figure and fact,
symbol and substance, was far less sharp and precise
than it is with us. Though the age with which we

II. Twenty Years of Research 53
are concerned was not exactly a poetic age — at least,
not poetic in the literal sense within the geographical
limits that we are contemplating — there was a vein
of poetry in it, and the world did not then dis
tinguish so closely as we do between poetry and
prose. I have said that for a full half century, from about
1850 to the present time, the apocalyptic materials
have been accumulating, and becoming year by year
more accessible and better defined. For about a gen
eration this process had been going on quietly in
the background without attracting any great notice,
when with the appearance of Baldensperger's book
it was brought deliberately and in full volume into
the field of research on the Life of our Lord. Of
course it had been there before, and it had entered
more or less into the research of the earlier part of
the century, but the way in which it had done so
had been, comparatively speaking, casual and subor
dinate. Before Baldensperger one little discovery had
been made, or thought to be made, which affected
to some extent the statement of the problem. This
was the indication by the French Protestant Tim-
othee Colani of the so-called ' Little Apocalypse ' in
the great predictive discourse (Mark xiii, Matt, xxiv,
Luke xxi) originally spoken on the Mount of Olives.
This idea of Colani's was taken up in several quar
ters, and elaborately worked out by Weiffenbach
{Der Wiederkunftsgedanken Jesu, 'Jesus' Concep
tion of His Return ': Leipzig, 1873). It was pointed
out that within the larger discourse there was en-

54 Cambridge Lectures
closed a smaller, separable from the larger, which ex
pressed the Jewish ideas of the time in stronger col
ours. The conclusion lay near at hand that this was
an interpolation or insertion in the original discourse,
written in any case before the fall of Jerusalem in
70 A. d. and Jewish, or more probably Jewish-Chris
tian, in its character. The common feature in the two
discourses was the thought of the Coming or Return
of the Messiah. It was a peculiarity of Weiffenbach's
that he explained this Coming or Return as intended
in the first instance for the Resurrection; according
to him our Lord really predicted His Resurrection,
and not any supernatural manifestation at the end of
the world. In this suggestion, however, I believe that
he has had no followers. On the other hand, many
have availed themselves of the hypothesis of inter
polation to reduce or minimize the eschatological ele
ments in our Lord's teaching.
The question as to the literary structure of the
chapters involved was in any case only a detail. As
I have said, Baldensperger was the first to collect all
the apocalyptic material he could, and bring it sys
tematically to bear upon the Life of our Lord. At
the same time the title of his book {Das Selbst-
bewusstsein Jesu im Lichte der messianischen Hoff-
nungen seiner Zeit) shows that he had a double object
in view. The apocalyptic parallels were considered
with reference to their bearing upon a psychological
analysis of the self-consciousness of our Lord. This
was a bold attempt, and it necessarily contained a
good deal that was speculative. And the connect-

II Twenty Years of Research 55
ing thread of speculation was derived, not so much
from a study of the conditions existing in the
first century a. d., as from the kind of recon
struction current in the circles of modern liberal
theology. According to Baldensperger, the primary constitu
ent in the consciousness of Jesus was the sense of a
unique relation to God. On to this consciousness
there were grafted the Jewish conceptions of the
Messiah and the kingdom of God ; and these ideas
were more and more spiritualized, until everything
earthly and political was stripped from them. For
a long time, from motives connected with our Lord's
method of teaching, no direct claim was put forward ;
in particular, all that might serve to excite political
passion was carefully avoided. The disciples were
left to draw their own inferences. At last, at Caes-
area Philippi, Peter made his bold avowal. But from
that time the inevitable end was coming into view.
Jesus Himself began definitely to prepare His dis
ciples for it ; but, in doing so, He took up another side
of the Jewish expectation ; beyond the descent into the
valley of death, He saw His own return ' in power
and great glory.'
In the working out of this theory, which in its main
outline is familiar to all of us, as it is substantially
that which has for some time with slight differences
in detail been generally accepted, Baldensperger
struck a compromise between the picture that came
out from a study of the Jewish contemporary writ
ings and that which appeared to result from mod-

56 Cambridge Lectures
ern criticism of the narratives of the Gospels. The
two different, and in some ways conflicting, aspects
of this picture he tried to harmonize as best he
could. The next step was to be of another kind. The
time had come to have done with compromises. In
1892 there appeared a short pamphlet of sixty-seven
pages by Johannes Weiss, son of the veteran Pro
fessor Bernhard Weiss, of Berlin, and himself now
Professor at Marburg, which altered the whole situa
tion, and compelled an answer to more peremptory
questions. The decisive term was the ' kingdom of God ' or
' kingdom of heaven ' ; and this it was that Johannes
Weiss set himself primarily to explain. The ques
tion was ' in the air.' It had been propounded as the
subject of a prize competition at Leyden, and two
meritorious essays sent in for this by Issel and
Schmoller had been published in 1891. The latter
of the two laid especial stress on the eschatological
sense. Johannes Weiss did more than lay stress upon
it; he asserted that it was the sense, the only sense
— in other words, that the kingdom of God was not,
as was generally supposed, partly present and partly
future, but wholly future, and wholly transcendental
or supernatural. It was present, not strictly and
literally, but in the sense of being close at hand. The
casting out of demons in particular implied that
Satan's power was broken, and that the moment for
the full manifestation of God's kingdom was very
near.

//. Twenty Years of Research 57
This, however, the exact moment of its appearance,
was the one thing that even our Lord Himself pro
fessed not to know. It was not so near as it seemed.
At first He had come forward with the same message
as the Baptist, ' Repent, for the kingdom of heaven
is at hand' (Matt. iv. 17, Mark i. 14). When the
Twelve were sent out on their mission, still the same
message was repeated (Mark vi. 12). The end of
the age was near, but it could only be ushered in by
a general repentance; and this general repentance
was delayed.
As time went on it became evident that the repent
ance of the people would never be complete. The
mass was really too hardened and obstinate. The in
vitation was given, but not accepted.
What was to be done ? By degrees it dawned upon
the consciousness of Jesus that to bring about the
great event a great act of self-devotion was needed;
and the call came to none other than Himself. All
along He had known that He was to be the agent
in establishing the kingdom. In other words, He had
the Messianic consciousness; and yet He went about
performing none of the functions of the Messiah — at
least, none of the clear and unmistakable functions
such as would have been understood at once. He
did not even give Himself out as the Messiah, though
He accepted the title (or its equivalents) when it was
given to Him by others (e. g. by the demoniacs). It
was on account of this strange reticence and reserve
that the Baptist came to put his question, ' Art thou
He that should come, or do we look for another ? '

58 Cambridge Lectures
(Matt. xi. 3). The reply that he received is enough,
but not a word more than enough; nothing is added
to satisfy what we might consider a reasonable curi
osity. But at the same time the significant hint is
given, ' Blessed is he that shall not be offended in
Me' (Matt. xi. 6).
The characteristic activities of the Messiah, like the
characteristic glories of His kingdom, were still held
back. Something was to intervene before they could
be revealed; and that something was His death. He
was to give up His life as ' a ransom for many ' —
(Mark x. 45, Matt. xx. 28). In like manner, at the
Last Supper Jesus speaks of His blood as ' shed for
many' (Mark xiv. 24, and Matt. xxvi. 28): 'for
many ' means not for the disciples only, but for the
whole people.1
When the crisis was over, when the bitter cup
had been drunk to the dregs, then at last the obstacle
would be removed, and the Son of Man would come
in power and great glory, and the Messianic reign
would begin. First would come the judgment, and
after that the reign.
This is an outline of the development of things as
Johannes Weiss conceived it. It will be seen that,
according to him, everything is thrown into the fu
ture. The moral teaching that we get in the Gospels
is not so much the ethics of the kingdom as ethical
teaching that fits for the kingdom. Schweitzer calls
1 Schweitzer, p. 237 ; J. Weiss, Predigt, etc., ed. 2, p. 201 ; in his sec
ond edition Weiss expresses some doubt as to the genuineness of the say
ing (p. 197).

II. Twenty Years of Research 59
it an Interimsethik (pp. 357, 362), i. e. designed for
an interval which is expected to be short; it is a sort
of expansion of the idea of ' repentance/ the condi
tion of the soul under the eye of the righteous Judge.
There is no real difference in attitude between the
Baptist and Jesus Himself. The outlook of both is
fixed upon the future. The real and important differ
ence is that, whereas the Baptist knew himself to be
only the Forerunner, Jesus knew that He was more
than the Forerunner ; He knew that the kingdom was
His by right.
Jesus spoke of Himself as the Son of Man. There
will be much more to be said about this title later.
I only allude to it now in order to say that for Jo
hannes Weiss its significance is essentially transcen
dental and eschatological. It means the Messiah in
His character as Judge, as in the Similitudes of the
Book of Enoch. From the way in which our Lord
used it, speaking as it were objectively and in the
third person, it would often not seem that He was
speaking of Himself. At the very last, at the hear
ing before the Sanhedrin, it is only the express assent
of Jesus that identifies Him with the Son of Man, and
that makes His assertion that the Son of Man would
come with the clouds of heaven into an assertion that
He Himself would so come.
This sketch of the theory of Weiss is based mainly
on Schweitzer's summary, checked by the second edi
tion of Weiss's book which appeared in 1900. I un
fortunately missed the first edition when it came out ;
there is no copy in the Bodleian, and I have not

60 Cambridge Lectures
been able to find one in Oxford.1 The second edition
is ' entirely recast ' ; it has grown from 67 pages to
214; and Schweitzer evidently prefers the first edi
tion. I can quite imagine that it was the more tell
ing, as it was also the more uncompromising, of the
two. But what Johannes Weiss writes is always fresh
and forcible and suggestive.
Two of Schweitzer's terse and pregnant sentences
put the characteristic, features of the Weissian theory
in a nutshell:
(Jesus) does not found the Kingdom; He only an
nounces it. He exercises no Messianic activity, but
He waits, with the rest of the world, for God to bring
in the Kingdom supernaturally (p. 236).
Or — to put it in a slightly less paradoxical form —
the ministry of Christ on earth was but preliminary;
the real Advent, the real Kingdom was to come.
When Schweitzer comes to Johannes Weiss, his en
thusiasm knows no bounds. At last he has found
a system that, like Strafford's famous policy, really
deserves the name of ' Thorough.' He regards it as
marking an epoch in the history of the subject, as
no doubt it does. It was not really to be expected
that a theory in many ways so novel should meet with
general acceptance. Schweitzer consoles himself with
the reflection that it usually takes about a generation
for any new theory to become established.
1 Through the kindness of Professor Burkitt I have been enabled to
consult the copy in the Cambridge Library ; and the generosity and per
severance combined of Dr. George Milligan — clari palris clarus filius —
have since enriched me with a copy of my own.

//. Twenty Years of Research 61
It was a noticeable fact that the two leading older
authorities on the history of Judaism, Wellhausen 1
and Schiirer,2 both dissented, or (more strictly) im
plied dissent, because they were not writing directly
against Johannes Weiss.
Wellhausen's views were expressed in the suc
cessive editions of his Israelitische und judische Ge-
schichte (' History of Israel and of the Jews '), which
first appeared in 1894. Schiirer declared himself in
an academical address, Das messianische Selbstbe-
wusstsein Jesu Christi ('The Messianic Self-con
sciousness of Jesus Christ '), published in 1903. The
opposition really turned upon the question of the rela
tion of the teaching of our Lord to the contemporary
Judaism. The novelty of such a theory as that of
Johannes Weiss consisted largely in the extent to
which it made our Lord accept the doctrines of cur
rent Judaism. Up to the year 1892 it had been usual,
especially in the liberal camp, to think of our Lord as
in strong antithesis to these. Both Wellhausen and
Schiirer distinctly occupied that standpoint. Both in
sisted on the discarding by Christ of all that was
political in the Jewish ideal, the bitter antagonism to
Roman rule. It was characteristic of Johannes Weiss
to deny, or at least to minimize, the existence of this
1 Julius Wellhausen is the writer who has done more than any one man
to revolutionize our conception of the Old Testament. It should be
noted that Schweitzer had not before him Wellhausen's views on the
eschatological question in their latest form. They are very carefully stated
in his Einleitung in die drei ersten Evang. (1905), especially pp. 98-108.
2 Emil Schiirer is the author of a History of the Jewish People in the
Time of Christ, which is a vast repertory of knowledge on the subject.

62 Cambridge Lectures
political element. For him the main point was the
transcendental, supernatural aspect of the conception.
The coming of the Messiah and the realizing of the
kingdom was all a direct intervention of God upon
earth. With Wellhausen and Schiirer may be classed other
writers of middle age like Professor von Soden, of
Berlin, and younger men like Professor Paul Wernle,
of Basel. We may also include in the group Har-
nack in his famous lectures. With all these the sig
nificance of the teaching and life of Christ lay far
less in His adoption of Jewish ideas than in His rejec
tion or correction of them.
But then it had to be remembered that the current
ideals of Judaism were very far from homogeneous.
There were, to begin with, as we have seen, the
legalist ideal and the eschatological ideal more or
less in contrast with each other. Every one, I think,
is agreed that our Lord did not adopt or approve of
the legalist or Pharisaic ideal. The utmost that can
¦be said is that there were some open-minded and
religious Pharisees whom He did not condemn along
with the rest.
But even the other, eschatological, ideal was by no
means all of a piece ; it was made -up as it were of
a number of different strands, of which it was quite
possible to take one and leave another, or partially
take one here and there. Clearly discrimination was
necessary, and, it might be, fine discrimination.
Probably from this point of view the subtlest and
most skilful of the alternatives offered for the theory

II. Twenty Years of Research 63
of Johannes Weiss was that put forward by Professor
Bousset, of Gottingen.1 There were several points
that he made in opposition to Weiss. He took the
line generally of reasserting the originality of Christ,
which seemed in some danger of being depreciated.
We have seen that Weiss made little of the differ
ence, at least in attitude, between the Forerunner and
the Messiah. But as against this, Bousset pointed
to the difference in the popular estimate of them:
the one ' came neither eating nor drinking, and they
say, He hath a devil ' : the other ' came eating and
drinking, and they say, Behold, a gluttonous man,
and a winebibber, a friend of publicans and sinners '
(Matt. xi. 18, 19). John was an ascetic, and Jesus
was not an ascetic. * This went along with other
traits in the portrait of the latter. He had an intense
feeling for the beauties of nature, the flowers of the
field that neither toil nor spin; and not less for the
lower world of animate being, for the birds of the
air, or for the straying sheep. He entered equally
into human joys and human sorrows, and showed an
especial care for the ' little ones ' who believed in
Him. All this, Bousset argued, was inconsistent with an
uncompromising eschatology. It was an affirming of
the joys of life, where eschatology implied their re
nunciation. But then there was the double strain in the Jewish
•Some of Bousset's writings that bear upon the subject have been
mentioned above (pp. 50 f.). We may add Jesus in the Religionsgeschicht-
liche VolksbUcher (Halle, 1904 ; E. T. 1906).

64 Cambridge Lectures
eschatology as it was held. One came from the an
cient prophets and psalmists of Israel ; the other came
from foreign sources, as through the contact with
Persian religion during the Captivity. It was the
former only that Jesus really adopted; so far as He
took over the transcendent supernatural side of the
expectation, He transformed and spiritualized while
He adopted it.
According to Bousset, the idea of the kingdom of
heaven could not be thrown entirely into the future.
The righteousness of the kingdom was a righteous-
i( ness that could certainly be practised upon the earth,
even as it was. At the same time, it was true that
the present character of the kingdom was not put
prominently forward. It was a ' mystery/ hinted at
in parables and dark sayings, but not intended to be
thoroughly understood.
It will be seen that Bousset's was an attempt to
mediate between the old and the new, between the
apocalyptic school and its opponents. It, of course,
was not, and is not, the last word in the controversy.
But there were to be other important episodes in it
before this sketch can be brought down to the pres
ent time. I must leave the subject at this point until
next week.

Ill
TWENTY YEARS OF RESEARCH — {continued)
In the year 1896, a young scholar, Hans Lietz-
mann, at that time Privatdozent at Bonn and now
Professor at Jena, rather startled the world by pub
lishing a tract entitled Der Menschensohn; ein Bei-
trag sur neutest. Theologie (' The Son of Man: a con
tribution to N. T. Theology': Freiburg i. B. and
Leipzig, 1896), in which he questioned on philological
grounds the use commonly ascribed to our Lord of
the title ' Son of Man ' as a designation of Himself.
He was not really by any means the first to do this,
but he was the first to do it systematically and with
a collection of practically all the relevant materials.
The question was raised at a time of marked ad
vance in the knowledge of the language of Palestine
in the time of our Lord. In the same year with
Lietzmann's tract appeared another by Arnold Meyer
called Jesu Muttersprache (' The Mother-Tongue of
Jesus ': Leipzig), surveying the ground and defining
more exactly the distribution of the different dialects.
At the same time eminent specialists like Wellhausen,
Noldeke, Kautzsch, and Dalman were laying the basis
of a scientific study of their grammar and idiom.
The ground of Lietzmann's objection was that in
Aramaic, the dialect spoken in Galilee and generally,
65

66 Cambridge Lectures
in Palestine at this time, such a phrase as ' Son of
Man ' as a title did not exist, and could not well exist,
because the phrase was in use in a different sense,
meaning simply ' man.' Lietzmann thought that the
name was not used by Christ Himself, but that it
was attributed to Him by the early Church through a
misunderstanding. Greek-speaking Christians did not
realize that 6 uids tov avdpum-ov was simply the equiva
lent of o av0po>iros; and accordingly they were led to
suppose that in passages like St. Mark ii. 28 ('The
Son of man is lord of the sabbath ' = ' Man is lord of
the sabbath ') our Lord was speaking, not of human
ity in general, but of Himself.
Both Wellhausen and Arnold Meyer had expressed
views in different ways approximating to this ; and at
a later date (in 1889) Wellhausen came round to the
opinion that the phrase had not been used by Christ
in a personal sense at all.1
It was difficult to maintain this sweeping conclu
sion in face of the strong attestation supplied by all
parts of the Gospels, including the Fourth which had
no reason of its own for adopting the phrase. And
the high authority of Dalman {Die Worte Jesu, 1898)
interposed on the other side. To this we may add
that of Dr. Driver in his admirable review of the
discussion in Hastings's Dictionary, iv. 582 f . It is an
important point that the early Syriac versions have
a special form of phrase which is not liable to con-
1 Later still he seems to have gone back somewhat from'this extreme
position. But, in reading his Einleitung (1905), I find it not easy to be
clear when he is expressing his own deliberate view, and when he is
simply writing from the standpoint of the documents.

Ill Twenty Years of Research 67
fusion. But even if the phrase is to be taken as
equivalent to ' The Man/ there is no sufficient reason
why it should not have been used. More will be said
on this point later. On the whole I think it may be
said that the radical objections of Lietzmann are at
the present time no longer urged.
There remains, however, the still more important
question, assuming that our Lord did use the title of
Himself, exactly in what sense He used it. On this
point Dalman's view is interesting. In order to ex
plain it, we must go back a little to the data on which
any view must be based.
It is agreed that in any case the use of the phrase
is connected with the vision of ' one like unto a son of
man ' (i. e. ' like a man ') in Dan. vii. 13, but there is
difference of opinion as to the nature of the connex
ion. There is also difference of opinion as to the ex
tent to which the phrase was current as a designation
of the Messiah in the time of our Lord. It occurs,
in an eschatological sense, of the Messiah as Judge in
the middle portion of the Book of Enoch, commonly
known as the Similitudes. This is usually, but not
quite universally, referred to the first century B. c.
There are also some confirmatory allusions in 4 Ezra.
But these do not in strictness amount to proof that
the term was well known or much used. According
to the degree in which it is supposed to have been,
current opinions diverge as to the motive for its use.
Some think that our Lord used it to veil His Mes-
siahship; others, to proclaim it.
Then again we note that in the places in which

68 Cambridge Lectures
the phrase is used in the Synoptic Gospels, it is used
with two different sets of associations. In one group
of passages it is associated with the humility of our
Lord's mission upon earth as man (' The foxes have
holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the
Son of man hath not where to lay his head'). In
another larger group it is used of His coming at the
end of the world in power and great glory. It will
be seen that much would depend on which of these
groups was taken as primary, and which as sec
ondary. Dalman took the line that the title was not one
generally current for the Messiah; that it was sug
gested to our Lord by Dan. vii. 13; that He used it
more especially with reference to the human side of
His mission, and in particular in connexion with the
predictions of His own sufferings and death.
On all these points Dalman may be said to be the
direct opposite of the eschatological school of which
I spoke at length in the last lecture. It is character
istic of this school to maintain that the title was at
least so well known as to be at once recognized as
a name of the Messiah, and recognized as having ref
erence to Him as the superhuman person who would
appear in the last days to bring the existing order of
things to an end and to establish a new order in its
place. In the last lecture I took Schweitzer as the latest
and most thorough-going representative of this school.
He, as we might expect, directly challenges Dalman
in regard to the points that I have just enumerated.

HI. Twenty Years of Research 69
He argues — and, I think it must be confessed, with
force — that when our Lord spoke of the Son of Man
as undergoing suffering and death, the disciples were
bewildered and could not understand what He could
mean; but when He spoke of the Son of Man as
coming in the clouds of heaven, they at once under
stood, and began to dispute who should sit at His
right hand and at His left.
The only point on which the two theories, though
from quite different directions, seemed to some ex
tent to approach each other, was that in neither was
it assumed that our Lord went about proclaiming His
Messiahship, but that in the one He took the title
Son of Man expressly in order to veil it, while in the
other He either spoke of the Son of Man in the third
person in such a way as not clearly to identify Him
with Himself, or else His discourse on the subject
was confined to His own disciples, and that in the last
period of His ministry. Not until His trial before
the high priest did our Lord definitely assume the
title, with all that it involved, in a manner at once
public and unequivocal.
With the beginning of the present century the con
troversy as to the title ' Son of Man ' seemed to be
gradually subsiding, hut only to give place to another
of still more far-reaching importance. This new
period was opened by Wrede, Professor at Breslau,
in his Messiasgeheimnis in den Evangelien ('The
Messianic Secret in the Gospels '), published at Got
tingen in 1 90 1.

70 Cambridge Lectures
The chief merit of Wrede's book consists in its
independence, its originality, and the newness of the
questions which it raises. I consider it to be not only
very wrong but also distinctly wrong-headed. But
although such a judgment may affect the book as
an isolated literary production, it affects it far less
as a contribution to theological inquiry. In the end
almost every statement of a new problem, or prob
lems, does good. The statement may be more or less
a failure in itself, but it leads to a fresher and stronger
apprehension of the facts.
I could not describe the book as attractive to read.
Wrede has directness and ability, and he never minces
matters ; as I have said, he belongs to no school, and
repeats the formulae of no school. But he writes in
the style of a Prussian official. He has all the arro
gance of a certain kind of common sense. His mind
is mathematical, with something of the stiffness of
mathematics — a mind of the type which is supposed
to ask of everything, What does it prove? It is a
mind that applies the standards to which it is accus
tomed with very little play of historical imagination.
If it cannot at once see the connexion of cause and
effect, it assumes that there is no connexion. It
makes no allowance for deficiencies of knowledge, for
scantiness of sources and scantiness of detail con
tained in the sources, for the very imperfect recon
struction of the background that alone is possible to
us. If there is upon the surface some appearance of
incoherence or inconsequence, it is at once inferred
that there is real incoherence and real inconsequence.

III. Twenty Years of Research 71
And the narrative is straightway rejected as history;
though a little reflection would show that life is full
of these seeming inconsistencies, and would be fuller
still if our knowledge of the events going on around
us did not supply us with the links of connexion
which make them intelligible. Wrede argues as
though we could exhaust the motives of the actors in
events that happened nearly nineteen hundred years
ago, whereas nothing is more certain than that we
cannot in the least come near exhausting them.
I have said that the merit of the book lies in its
calling attention to a new group of facts, to a group
which, although it had of course been observed before,
had not been appreciated in all its bearings. This
group of facts has to do with what is called ' the
secret of Messiahship/ the way in which the Gospels
— and, more particularly, the fundamental narrative-
Gospel, St. Mark — furnish indications that, although
our Lord came forward as the Jews' Messiah, He
nevertheless seemed anxious rather to suppress than
to assert His claims to the title. Wrede collected to
gether these indications, with a number of other state
ments that seemed to him to be more or less con
nected with them, and subjected them to a severe and
drastic criticism. He chose, in the first instance, the
Gospel of St. Mark as that which most modern
scholars take as the foundation for their reconstruc
tion of the Life of Christ.
He began with the instances in which certain
demoniacs confessed Jesus as the Messiah, but were
bidden to hold their peace. These demoniacs, he con-

72 Cambridge Lectures
tended, could have had nothing to suggest to them
that Jesus was the Messiah; there was no psycholog
ical avenue by which they could arrive at such a con
clusion. Therefore the narratives must be rejected
as unhistorical.
He next took up the places in which, after perform
ing miracles, Jesus enjoined upon the persons healed
to keep silence as to what had been done to them.
Any such injunctions of silence, Wrede argued, must
be futile, because according to the Evangelist a num
ber of other miracles was wrought without any pro
hibition. Therefore these two must be unhistorical
injunctions. Another characteristic of the second Gospel is the
way in which it represents our Lord as repeatedly
seeking to withdraw from the crowd, as courting
retirement and solitude. Perhaps these statements
could not be dismissed straight away; but they ap
pear to be connected with the others, and at least lie
under the suspicion of being unhistorical.
Of the same order is the explanation given in St.
Mark iv. 10-12 of the teaching in parables, as though
their object was to reveal to the disciples what was
concealed from the multitudes. Here Wrede follows
Jiilicher's well-known work on the Parables. Jiilicher
(in Wrede's opinion) had quite sufficiently exposed
the absurdity of this explanation. The parables, as
we have them, were clearly not intended to conceal
anything. The Gospels give us the impression that Jesus went
up to His last Passover at Jerusalem deliberately in

Ill Twenty Years of Research 73
order to die, and that He prepared His disciples for
this by predicting His own death; and yet, when the
catastrophe comes, it takes them by surprise. Clearly
the object attributed to the journey and the prediction
are alike unhistorical.
The dullness of apprehension ascribed to the dis
ciples in this respect is only one case of an abnormal
want of intelligence imputed to them. This too is to
be classed with the other phenomena that we have
been considering.
Really (Wrede maintains) a conscious purpose
runs through St. Mark's Gospel, a purpose which
may be understood when it is regarded in connexion
with the early stages in the history of Christianity.
The key to the whole is given by a verse which fol
lows the account of the Transfiguration: —
And as they were coming down from the mountain,
He charged them that they should tell no man what
things they had seen, save when the Son of Man
should have risen again from the dead (Mark ix. 9).
It was really the Resurrection which gave rise to the
belief that Jesus was the Messiah. This appears
distinctly both from the early discourses in the Acts
and from the Epistles of St. Paul (Acts ii. 36, Rom.
i. 4, Phil. ii. 6 ff.). This was the earliest conception;
only by degrees did it come to be supposed that
Jesus had claimed to be the Messiah during His
earthly ministry. He had not made any such claim;
and there was a complete dearth of facts showing
that He had made any such claim. How could that

74 Cambridge Lectures
dearth of facts be plausibly accounted for? Just in
the way in which St. Mark has sought to account for
it, viz. by introducing all these prohibitions and hints of
esoteric teaching and imputations of dullness and the
like. The disciples had really known who and what
their Master was, at least from the time of St. Peter's
confession ; but they had not been allowed to say.
Such was the way in which, according to Wrede,
the early Church glossed over the flaw in its own
title-deeds. St. Mark did not invent the theory; it
was the early Church that invented it. But St. Mark
gave it definite shape and substance.
What are we to think of this construction ? I can
not easily conceive anything more utterly artificial
and impossible. Imagine an ancient confronted with
an awkward dearth of facts. What would he do?
Accept the blank as it was — and then try to cover it
up by all sorts of roundabout expedients and excuses,
or boldly go in and fill up the blank with the facts re
quired? All analogy compels us to believe that the
second method would be followed and not the first.
A twentieth-century forger or criminal of the type
dealt with by Sherlock Holmes might conceivably
cover up his tracks in the way that Wrede supposes ;
but that any first-century community or writer should
so act is incredible. If the ancients deviated from
strict veracity, they at least followed the maxim
pecca fortiter. Where direct methods were open to
them, we may be sure that they would prefer them;
at least they would certainly not prefer methods so
indirect and circuitous as Wrede imagines.

Ill Twenty Years of Research 75
I really think that these considerations are enough,
without following up this strange hypothesis in detail.
One would like to cross-examine its author a little
on the use which he makes of the Resurrection. It is
true enough that the belief in the Resurrection bore
a great weight of superstructure in apostolic times.
But I doubt if at any time, from the first century to
the twentieth, it has ever had so much weight thrown
upon it as in this theory of Wrede's. It is not only
the foundation stone, but apparently the sole founda
tion of the whole edifice of Christianity. Does Wrede
really believe this ? Supposing that the Resurrection
accounts for the rest of Christianity, what is left
to account for the Resurrection? For the ordinary
Christian it is prepared for and led up to in a hundred
ways; but I think Wrede may fairly be asked what
he has left to lead up to it. The elephant stands on
the tortoise; but what does the tortoise stand upon?
There is a passage in Bousset's Jesus which seems to
me completely to overthrow Wrede's contention : —
We have certain knowledge that the belief existed
from the very beginning among the Christian com
munity that Jesus was Messiah, and, arguing back
wards, we can assert that the rise of such a belief
would be absolutely inexplicable if Jesus had not de
clared to His disciples in His lifetime that He was
the Messiah. It is quite conceivable that the first
disciples of Jesus, who by His death and burial had
seen all their hopes shattered and their belief in His
Messiahship destroyed, might have returned to that
belief under the influence of their resurrection ex
periences, if they had formerly possessed it on the

76 Cambridge Lectures
ground of the utterances and general conduct of
Jesus. But it would be wholly incomprehensible that
the belief should have originated in their hearts after
the catastrophe, for in that case we must assume that
those marvellous experiences of the Easter days pro
duced something completely new in the disciples'
souls by a process of sheer magic, and without any
psychological preparation. And that we are unable
to assume precisely on the ground of our strictly his
torical point of view (p. 168 f.).
It is Wrede's argument about the demoniacs turned
against himself.
So far as I know, Wrede's reconstruction of the
Gospel history is accepted by no one. At the same
time his book made a certain impression, and has had
a certain effect, chiefly through the criticism which
it directs against other reconstructions, especially
against that which is current in the camp of modern
theological Liberalism.1 I shall have more to say
about this in the next lecture. For the present I con
tent myself with pointing out that, in this first de
structive part of his work, Wrede has for some way
a companion in Schweitzer.
1 Apart from particular criticism, it seems to me, looking from a dis
tance, that Wrede's book has had a tendency to revive and strengthen that
unfortunate spirit of perpetual carping from which Germany was begin
ning to free itself (cf. Harnack's famous Preface of 1896). It is pathetic
to see how the better minds at the present time struggle against the grip
of this spirit, though on the whole succumbing to it. Harnack has broken
loose more than any one in his fine and true book Lukas der Arzt (1906);
but even he feels the prevalent Geist des Verneinens dragging at his skirts,
and has yielded to it more than he ought. Next to Harnack in real inde
pendence and insight, I should place Johannes Weiss.

HI Twenty Years of Research 77
Schweitzer himself contrasts his own theory with
that of Wrede as a thorough-going eschatology as
against a thorough-going scepticism. I am afraid
that I shall be again compelled to make a good deal of
use of this ugly and cumbrous word, for which I had
to apologize in my last lecture. This time we will
try to be a little more accurate. In the last lecture
I spoke of eschatology as dealing with the events
which were expected to happen at the end of the
world. Instead of ' the end of the world,' let us say
' the end of the aeon or world-age/ i. e. the end of the
present period in the history of the world, or rather
the period that was present in the time of the Apos
tles. Many of the Jews in the time of our Lord (I
do not say all, and perhaps not a majority, but at
least a large minority) fully expected that the world-
age in which they lived was soon about to come to
an end ; and that it would end with a complete break
up of the existing order of things, through a direct
divine interposition. The interposition was to be
essentially supernatural. It was to take the form of
a visible establishment of God's kingdom upon earth.
The agent through whom the kingdom was to be
established was the Messiah. There was to be a
great crash and collapse of all human kingdoms,
and the divine kingdom alone was to be left stand
ing. Schweitzer applies this belief in the study of the
Gospels; and he applies it more thoroughly than had
ever been done before, even by the school to which
he himself belongs. The leaders of the school (such

78 Cambridge Lectures
as Baldensperger and Johannes Weiss, especially the
latter) had explained a large part of our Lord's
teaching as essentially eschatological, but they had
not gone beyond this. They had explained large
parts of the teaching as eschatological but not the
Life. In a tract which he brought out at the same
time as Wrede's book, Schweitzer applied the same
explanation to the Life; and that explanation he re
peats on a larger scale in his volume Von Reimarus
zu Wrede.
There are three great secrets — real secrets — in the
Life of our Lord. There is the secret or mystery of
the Messiah; the secret or mystery of the Kingdom;
the secret or mystery of Suffering. All three are
strictly eschatological; they belong to that cycle of
current doctrine that has to do with the end of the
age. i. The secret of the Messiah is itself a part of this
larger scheme. Jesus knows that He is the Messiah.
He thinks of Himself especially under the form of
that particular Messianic title ' the Son of Man.'
How He came to think of Himself thus lies beyond
us. It is vain to speculate about it; we must be con
tent to accept it as a fact.
But although Jesus knows that He is the Messiah,
He does not go about proclaiming Himself in this
character. He has indeed the full consciousness of
Messianic authority; but He does not assert, but
rather conceals it. This is His ' secret/ which He is
anxious not to disclose too soon. He lets St. Peter
make his confession; that is the first step in the dis-

III. Twenty Years of Research 79
closure; He is aware that St. Peter only knows it
because it is God's will that he should do so.
But still, and up to the last, the knowledge does not
travel beyond the Twelve. The outside multitude is
perplexed about Him. It does not know what to
think. It has a suspicion that really He is involved
in the great divine event which it believes to be com
ing. But, so far as it ventures to put its suspicion
into words, it would be inclined to say that the
Prophet of Nazareth was Elijah rather than the Mes
siah. The Messiah was a supernatural personage
who would appear upon the clouds of heaven. It
would not occur to the ordinary Jew that one who
walked the earth as a man could be the Messiah.
But he might quite well be Elijah, the forerunner
of the Messiah. Schweitzer holds that the phrase
' he that should come ' was interpreted in this sense
of Elijah, the human precursor of the superhuman
Christ. This is one of the elements of obscured and para
doxical truth that are really seized in a recent essay
which identifies Jesus Himself with the Forerunner.1
He was not the Forerunner in His own consciousness ;
He is not the Forerunner of history — the world's his
tory, as it looks back over the ages. But He was
the Forerunner in the speculation perhaps of many
contemporary Jews. He was unmistakably a man;
and the revived Elijah was to be a man, not more
than man.
'A paper entitled 'Christ the Forerunner' in Mr. H. W. Garrod's
The Religion of All Good Men (London, 1906)

80 Cambridge Lectures
Jesus (in Schweitzer's view) had begun to reveal
what He really was. He did so in the moment when
He pronounced John the Baptist to be Elijah. But
that was just one of those covert allusions, the signifi
cance of which could not be taken in all at once. The
message of the Baptist in prison, and the reply of
jesus, and the discourse which followed on the true
position of the Baptist, were indeed a landmark in
the process of revelation; but they are a landmark
rather from the point of view of Jesus Himself than
for the rough apprehension of the crowd.
Even the solemn entry into Jerusalem at the be
ginning of the last week, although it was doubtless
Messianic for Jesus, and possibly for the most dis
cerning of His disciples, looking at events in the light
of St. Peter's confession, had no such meaning for
the crowd. We may see this from the sequel of the
narrative. The other public actions of Jesus on the
days before the preparation for the Passover were
not such as would be recognized as Messianic.
According to Schweitzer, the secret of the Messiah-
ship was really the secret betrayed by Judas. It was
through Judas that the high priest was put in pos
session of it, and so enabled to propound that direct
question, our Lord's assent to which carried with it
the verdict of condemnation. Apart from this auda
cious and blasphemous claim, nothing deserving of
death could be brought home to Him.
2. I have said that the secret of the Messiah was
intimately connected with that other secret, the secret
of the Kingdom. We must always remember that,

HI. Twenty Years of Research 81
from the eschatological point of view, the coming of
the Kingdom was an essentially supernatural event.
It meant the break-up of the existing order, the end
of the world-age. It had to be ushered in by a series
of catastrophes. And, therefore, during our Lord's
life, it could not be, in the strict sense, present; it
might be impending in the near future; but only as
so impending could it be spoken of as present.
Schweitzer goes so far as apparently to deny that
our Lord greatly altered the Jewish conception of the
Kingdom. He seems to deny the political character
of this conception. He denies that the frequent ris
ings of which we hear were Messianic. In this I
confess that I think he goes much too far. It may
be a bare truth that we have no direct evidence that
the outbreaks were ostensibly Messianic. It may be
also true that there were a good many Jews for
whom the Messianic hope was more or less dormant.
But I imagine that from the time of the Maccabees
to the time of Barcochba there was a Messianic back
ground — or something like it — to every popular move
ment that swept over Palestine. I cannot think that
the Zealots, for instance, were either simple brigands
or a purely political party without any admixture of
religion. Just as the book of Daniel reveals the spir
itual atmosphere of the age to which it belongs, so
also do the Psalms of Solomon reveal the like condi
tions a hundred years later, and the Assumption of
Moses later still. I am, as I implied in the last lec
ture, perfectly ready to believe in any amount of
subtly blending light and shade, any degree of cross-

82 Cambridge Lectures
ing and commingling of political and religious mo
tive, all through the period. But that the religious
hopes as well as the political often took a very coarse
and violent form, I regard as certain. Therefore
it seems to me that, if our Lord appealed to these
hopes, He could not do so without to some extent
correcting them. It must not be said that in assert
ing this we are reading into the texts our own ideas.
The teaching of the Gospels as they stand inevitably
involves such correction. There will be more to be
said on this subject in the next lecture.
The secret of the Kingdom is the knowledge of its
laws, and the knowledge of the divine counsels in re
gard to it, more especially as to its nearness and the
circumstances by which it was to be accompanied.
Jiilicher, as we have seen, and indeed many other
modern critics, object to the comments which all three
Evangelists make upon our Lord's teaching in para
bles, as though they contained something mysterious
which was revealed only to the elect. It is true that
there are parables, and other teaching as well, the
meaning of which is plain enough. But that is by no
means true of all the parables, or of all our Lord's
teaching. There is a single phrase, which our Lord
certainly used, and which on the face of it implies
the presence of something that might be called ' eso
teric ' in His teaching; that is the phrase, 'he that
hath ears to hear, let him hear.' This occurs twice
over in St. Mark's parable-chapter — possibly not ex
actly at the right place (Mark iv. 9, 23). It also oc
curs in Matt. xi. 15, where I think we may say that

///. Twenty Years of Research 83
it is certainly right, with reference to the identifica
tion of John the Baptist as Elijah. The whole group
of ideas relating to the coming of the Kingdom and
its signs was a group of mysteries.
3. Lastly, there is the secret of Suffering. On the
common view our Lord is represented as from the
time of St. Peter's confession onwards repeatedly
predicting His own passion and death. The eschato
logical theory emphasizes this; but it emphasizes it
too as part of a larger scheme. The so-called ' Woes
of the Messiah/ the great tribulation, a period of
storm and stress, including persecution of the right
eous, convulsions of nature, tumults and wars, were a
sort of hurricane-belt that had to be passed through
on the way to the end. They were the travail-pangs
of the new birth.
Our Lord's predictions of the sufferings that were
to fall upon Himself and His followers came in as
a necessary part of this wider outlook of suffering.
Neither is there any reason to doubt the other allu
sions of a like kind that are scattered up and down
the Gospels.
In particular, the discourse at the sending-out of
the Twelve Apostles (Matt. ix. 36-xi. 1) is placed
by this theory in an altogether new light. Hitherto
there has been a tendency among critics to suppose
that what is said about the imminence of persecution
and the gift of the Spirit really belonged to another
occasion. According to Schweitzer, there is no need
for this supposition; we may take the chapter much
as it stands. The mistake has been in regarding the

84 Cambridge Lectures
whole discourse as having too much to do with in
struction. The Apostles were not really sent out to
teach; their preaching might be summed up in one
word, the exhortation to repent. Their mission was
to announce the near approach of the end.
But indeed Schweitzer maintains that our whole
view of the ministry of our Lord has been to regard
Him far too much as a Teacher. His teaching was
for the most part incidental, drawn from Him by pass
ing controversy ; that He was really a Prophet rather
than a Teacher, and, before all things, a Prophet who
announced the approach of the supernatural Kingdom
of God.
We are invited to look at the sequence as we have
it in the Gospels. First, the Baptist comes with his
cry, ' Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at
hand.' Then the same cry is taken up by our Lord
Himself. Then, once more, he sends out the Twelve
to proclaim exactly the same thing. It seemed at that
moment as though the end and the new beginning
were very near.
In this connexion Schweitzer offers an explanation
of a phrase that has always been difficult, and the cur
rent interpretations of which must be confessed to
be unsatisfactory : ' from the days of John the Baptist
until now, the kingdom of heaven suffereth violence,
and the violent take it by force ' (Matt. xi. 12, Luke
xvi. 16). The coming of the Kingdom is an object
of desire. The disciples had been taught to pray,
' Thy kingdom come.' The most effective means of

HI. Twenty Years of Research 85
hastening the coming of the Kingdom was repent
ance. And as a matter of fact there was a great
movement of repentance all over Palestine, which
brought the divine event nearer than anything else.
So it was that violent men — eager, zealous, deter
mined men — were forcing on the kingdom of God.
The pressure was felt even by God Himself — the
pressure of earnest desire and earnest prayer. This
is the moral of the two parables of importunity — the
Friend who comes at night, and the importunate
Widow and the Judge. At the time when the Twelve
went forth upon their mission the end seemed nearer
than ever it had done before. ' Verily I say unto you,
Ye shall not have gone through the cities of Israel
till the Son of Man be come ' (Matt. x. 23). Schweit
zer insists that we must not subtract anything from
the force of these words. He thinks that our Lord
expected that the Twelve would never return — that
the great event would come while they were still out
on their mission.
In the meantime, during their absence, He had
let drop another hint which told the same story —
viz. thgftijat of which we have spoken, that John
the ii Iwas really the expected Elijah. If he
was, <9MHTat meant that the winding-up of the age
(^ ovvt£XWitov al&vosi) had already begun.
And yet there was delay. The Twelve returned
from their journeyings; and the Kingdom had not
come. Then followed our Lord's own journey to the
North. This too has a new light thrown upon it. It

86 Cambridge Lectures
is often spoken of as ' flight/ due to the gathering
clouds of opposition, the more and more hostile atti
tude of those among whom our Lord had preached.
Schweitzer rejects this explanation, as having no suf
ficient warrant in the texts. He would see in it
rather the impulse to seek solitude in expectation of
the end. The Transfiguration is at once a ratifica
tion of the past and a foreshadowing of the future.
By this time our Lord has fully realized that He Him
self must undergo a change. As the Son of Man He
must come with power from heaven. But, in order
to come from heaven, He must first go thither. In
other words, He must first die and rise again. The
rising again is a necessary part of the transformation.
But death must come first; and He decided to go up
to Jerusalem — to die.
Wrede, purely out of his own head, had considered
himself called upon to reject this statement of the
Gospels. Schweitzer, on the contrary, adheres closely
to it. By this time the disciples at last understood
who their Master was. But they did not know what
was in store for Him. He knew, and He set His
face like a flint. When the time came, fe^Bis own
direction, He entered Jerusalem in a kincjM; tKamph.
He entered it as the Messiah; but only HBJRfl His
own immediate followers knew that He wasTne Mes
siah. The crowd played its part unconsciously. It
gave its greetings to the Prophet of Nazareth in
Galilee; and it was in that character that it followed
Him through the events of the week that followed.
The full disclosure was only made to the high priest

HI. Twenty Years of Research 87
when Jesus was brought before him as a prisoner.
For His presumption in making this claim Jesus was
condemned, and went to His doom. With the cry
on the Cross ' Eloi, Eloi/ what may be called the
eschatological envelope or clothing of the Messianic
idea 'shrivels like a parched scroll.'
With that Schweitzer's outline reconstruction of the
Gospel history ends almost abruptly, and with that,
I think we may say in the spirit of the author, the
modern phase of Christianity begins. For in another
place he writes thus : —
All the history of Christianity down to the present
day, all its inner real history, turns upon the delay of
the Coming, on the non-fulfilment of the Coming, on
the giving up of eschatology, on the progressive and
self-evolving liberation of religion from eschatology
{Enteschatologisierung der Religion) that goes along
with it (p. 356).
And the concluding paragraphs of the book are
these : —
It is well that the historical Jesus should dethrone
the modern, that He should rise up against the mod
ern spirit, and also that He should bring us, not peace
but a sword. He is not a teacher and seeker, but
a Master and Lord. For that reason, because He
is all this in His innermost being, He was able to
conceive of Himself as the Son of Man. That was
only under the conditions of the time a name for the
fact that He is Master and Lord. The titles with
which He was designated as such, Messiah, Son of
Man, Son of God, have become for us historical para-

88 Cambridge Lectures
bles. We cannot find any word to express to our
selves His nature.
As one unknown and without name He comes to
us, as by the shore of the lake He came to those fish
ermen who knew not who He was. He speaks the
same words : ' But do thou follow me ! ' and He sets
us before the tasks which He would have discharged
in our own day. He commands: and to those who
obey Him, both wise and unwise, will He reveal Him
self in that which in communion with Him they will
have to do, to struggle through, and to suffer; and
as an unspeakable mystery will they come to feel who
He is indeed (p. 401).
I cannot say that I should be prepared to endorse
all the novelties of detailed interpretation that
Schweitzer puts forward; but it seems to me that, on
broad, general grounds, he and his school have a
great deal to say for themselves. Besides those pre
dictions which occupy so large a place in the last
week of our Lord's life, there is more in the Gospels
than we are apt to suppose, which, in its original
sense, is distinctly eschatological.
I must leave further comment on Schweitzer's book
for the next lecture. But in the meantime I will ask
you to note three things.
The author is a thorough critic — and on the critical
side of his work I shall have more to say. And yet,
in spite of this,
(1) He keeps much closer to the texts than most
critics do ; he expressly tells us that his investigations
have helped to bring out the historical trustworthy
ness of the Gospels;

III. Twenty Years of Research 89
(2) He does not, like so many critics, seek to re
duce the Person of Christ to the common measures
of humanity, but leaves it at the transcendental height
at which he finds it;
(3) By doing this, he is enabled to link on, in an
easy and natural way, the eschatology and Christology
of the Gospels to the eschatology and Christology of
St. Paul and St. John.
I will develop some of these points next time.

IV
SURVEY AND CRITICISM OF CURRENT VIEWS
As the nineteenth century passed over into the
twentieth the dominant influence in regard to the con
ception of the Life of Christ may be said to have been
that of modern critical Liberalism. The great era of
production in this sense had been the decade 1860-70.
In 1863 appeared Renan's Vie de Jesus. A year later
Strauss brought out his popular Life, which was a
modified and less characteristic presentation of the
results arrived at in his greater work published in
1835-6. The same year Schenkel's Charakterbild
Jesu ('Portrait of Jesus') saw the light. A really
greater work than any of these was Keim's Geschichte
Jesu von Nazara, the first volume of which came out
in 1867, and the third and last in 1872, and the one-
volume abridgement in the same year. Written under
pressure of a mortal disease, under a sense of loneli
ness and struggle, with a feverish energy of expres
sion and from immense stores of genuine learning,
there was pathos about it as well as power. It was a
misfortune that most of Keim's presuppositions de
rived from literary criticism were wrong. In the
meantime important critical investigations had ap
peared by H. J. Holtzmann {Die synoptischen Evan-
gelien, 'The Synoptic Gospels/ 1863), and K. H.
90

IV Survey and Criticism of Current Views 91
Weizsacker ( Untersuchungen iib. d. evangelische Ge-
schichte, ' Investigations bearing upon the Gospel
History/ 1864). To the eighties belong two consid
erable works of a mediating tendency by Bernhard
Weiss (1882) and Willibald Beyschlag (1885-6);
while in England we had Dr. Edersheim's Life and
Times of Jesus the Messiah (1883; see p. 48 supra).
In the works of the later decade, as compared with
those of the earlier, there was some difference of less
and more; and as the period went on the literary
criticism of Holtzmann and Weizsacker made itself
increasingly felt. But the general type and character
of all these works (with some exception perhaps in
the case of Dr. Edersheim) was the same. The
Leben Jesu of Oscar Holtzmann, which appeared just
on the threshold of the twentieth century (1901, Eng.
Trans. 1904), might be taken to represent the average
net result. Other smaller books by P. W. Schmidt,
Bousset, Wernle, von Soden, though with rather more
pointed individuality, followed substantially the same
lines. But in 1901 a sharp attack was delivered against
this general conception from two sides — by Wrede in
a negative sense, and by Schweitzer in a more posi
tive. Schweitzer's shorter tract, which he called Eine
Skizze des Lebens Jesu ('A Sketch of the Life of
Jesus'), is taken up by his more elaborate work of
last year (1906). Up to a certain point in their
criticism of the current view both writers go together,
but Schweitzer is in this respect the more thorough.
Wrede himself developed with originality principles

92 Cambridge Lectures
of scepticism already existing; but Schweitzer chal
lenged the methods in vogue more directly. The
charges that he brings are especially those of exces
sive modernizing, of deserting the texts and reading
too much between the lines, and of filling up gaps by
a free use of speculative psychology that is incapable
of proof.
I will quote a trenchant passage in which all these
charges are contained. It should be remembered that
all critics in a greater or less degree, and those who
reject the Fourth Gospel almost entirely, are agreed
in starting from the Gospel of St. Mark. It is on the
treatment of this Gospel by the modern liberal school
that Schweitzer comments as follows: —

In order to find its Life of Christ in the Gospel of
St. Mark, modern theology is obliged in that Gospel
to read in between the lines a number of things, and
those constantly just the most important, and to inter
polate them into the text by means of psychological
conjectures. It wants to make good in St. Mark a
development of Jesus, a development of the disciples,
a development of the external circumstances, and it
professes at the same time to be only reproducing
disguised hints and ideas of the Evangelist. But in
reality he has none of the pragmatism attributed to
him [i. e. as I suppose, history conceived as express
ing an idea] , not one word of it, and when his inter-*
preters are asked on what particular hints they rely,
they turn out to be only argument a e silentio.
St. Mark knows nothing of any development in
Jesus ; he knows nothing of the paedagogic consider
ations which are said to have determined the relations
of Jesus to the disciples and to the people ; he knows
nothing of two forms of the Messianic idea, one

IV Survey and Criticism of Current Views 93
spiritual and the other popular and political, contend
ing for the mastery in the heart of Jesus; he also
knows nothing of any difference in this respect be
tween the conception of Jesus and that of the people ;
he knows nothing about the ass at the entry into
Jerusalem symbolizing non-political Messiahship; he
knows nothing about the discourse on the Messiah as
David's Son as having anything to do with that al
ternative; he knows neither that Jesus explained the
secret of His own suffering to the disciples, nor that
they to some extent understood it; he only knows
that from the beginning to the end they were equally
without understanding about everything ; he does not
know that the first period was a period of success, and
the second a period of failure, but from Mark iii. 6
onwards he makes the Pharisees and Herodians de
cide upon the death of Jesus, and the people continue
enthusiastic and faithful to Him down to the last day
on which He preached in the temple.
All these things — and they are the foundation-
pillars of the modern Lives of Christ — ought first to
be proved, if they are capable of proof. But it is time
to stop reading them into the text as something that
goes without saying, because that which according
to the prevailing critical practice appears as though
it went without saying, is in truth the very re
verse. Another thing that has hitherto been treated as
though it went without saying — the historical kernel
that it has become the custom to disengage from the
paragraphs of narrative, should now be given up, until
it is really shown — if it can be shown — that we are in
a position to separate, and that we ought to separate,
between, husk and kernel. Let all that is narrated
be treated as either historical or unhistorical; let us,
in the case of the very definite predictions of passion,
death, and resurrection, cease from taking a single
hint of suffering as historical and dropping all the
rest ; let us either accept the idea of an atoning death

94 Cambridge Lectures
or reject it, but do not let us foist upon Jesus some
pale and lifeless conception of the kind, while we set
down to the account of Pauline theology the signifi
cance which as a matter of fact St. Mark attaches to
the passion.
Different as are the results that come out from the
process of getting at the kernel, the method of pro
cedure is the same : subtraction and explaining away.
' Every historian/ says Wrede, ' ends by retaining so
much of the words that have come down to him as
fits in with his own construction of the facts and his
own conception of historical possibilities; the rest he
rejects.' The psychological motives and psychological con
nexions of events and actions which it has been sought
to discover in St. Mark, simply do not exist. There
fore nothing can come of it, when a construction is
worked out with the help of rational psychology.
Treasures without end of learning and knowledge, of
art and artifice, which the Marcan hypothesis, during
the two generations of its existence, has gathered into
its barns with a view to base upon them its Life of
Christ, are spoilt and of no further use for genuine
historical inquiry (pp. 329 f.).
I am glad that Schweitzer has stated his criticisms
in this very trenchant form, because in such a form
they are more likely to go home; and they are very
much needed. But, if one looks at them simply in
order to see how far they are true, then I think we
should have to confess — at least I should myself be of
the opinion — that, while they contain a great amount
of truth, they also contain not a little exaggeration.
Let me try to discriminate.
First, as to psychology. Schweitzer is not the
only writer who thinks that we have had too much

IV Survey and Criticism of Current Views 95
psychology.1 And yet it is certainly not either pos
sible or desirable to dispense with it altogether. All
history involves a certain amount of psychological
analysis. It is part of the effort to reconstruct a
coherent picture of the course of events in our own
minds. The picture would not be coherent if there
were not a thread of psychology running through it,
if there were not some conjectural connecting of ac
tions with motives. But just because this thread of
psychology comes from ourselves and not from the
sources, we ought to exercise especial care in regard
to it, and in particular we ought to be constantly on
our guard to attribute only that kind of motive which
is suitable to the time and place. We ought first to
steep ourselves as far as possible in the real spirit of
what is happening.
On this subject of psychology I have some retracta
tion to make. In my article in Hastings's Dictionary,
reprinted as Outlines of the Life of Christ, I began
by advocating a method which should proceed from
without inwards, and not from within outwards. I
was really rather repelled by the freedom with which
the motives of our Lord were canvassed, as though
He were a living statesman or one's neighbour in the
next house. But so much has been done on these
lines that is at once reverent and reasonable, and the
result has been such a clear gain in reality of appre-
1 Cf. Wellhausen, Einleitung, p. 94: 'Man hat iiber das Selbstbe-
wusstsein Jesu bis zum Uberdruss viel geredet und geschrieben;' also
Burkitt, Gospel History, p. 77: ' What is certain is that our Gospels
are very far from being a sort of psychological novel with Jesus Christ
for Hero.'

96 Cambridge Lectures
hension, that I would not express myself as opposed
to it in principle.
To return to Schweitzer : there are many details in
regard to which he seems to me to have reason on his
side. I might have been tempted to include among
these his protest against the view of our Lord's jour
ney to the North as of the nature of a ' flight.' But
just at the last moment there comes into my hands
a very skilful re-statement of the older opinion in Pro
fessor Burkitt's new book,1 which demands full con
sideration. It is pointed out that the course of this
journey is just such as to avoid the dominions of
Herod Antipas; and from Luke xiii. 31 we learn that
rumours were abroad that Herod was meditating to
put our Lord to death.
A point on which I must in any case agree with
Schweitzer is that there has been too much tendency
to minimize or explain away everything that is not
congenial to our modern point of view. With him,
I would apply this specially to the saying about the
life given as a ransom for many (Mark x. 45, Matt.
xx. 28). For myself, I am not satisfied with the di
luted interpretation of this saying that finds so much
favour. Again, with Schweitzer, I look with some reserve
upon the theories of development — not that I would
wish to exclude the idea, which has taken so strong
a hold upon us in modern times, but I do not think
that we ought to posit development just for the sake
of development. We must not go further than we
1 The Gospel History and its Transmission, Edinburgh, 1906.

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 97
have tangible evidence for going. And it is probably
true that the two periods in our Lord's public min
istry should not be divided and contrasted so sharply
as is sometimes done.
On the other hand, there are points of importance,
and indeed affecting the whole balance of the position,
in which Schweitzer seems to me to have a good deal
overstated his case against the current view. One is
the extent to which he questions whether our Lord
really thought of Himself as a teacher (pp. 349-53).
He evidently thinks of our Lord rather in the char
acter of a prophet than of a teacher. The prophet an
nounces, where the teacher expounds ; and Schweitzer
would make the preaching of our Lord consist far
more of announcement than of exposition.1 In this
connexion (p. 348) he would reduce the length of our
Lord's ministry even to less than a year. Announce
ments may be compressed into a short time, where
teaching would take much longer.
An opinion like this may easily appear more para
doxical than it really is. Schweitzer begins by putting
aside all that incidental teaching that was drawn from
our Lord by passing controversy. He would also
claim as on his side everything eschatological. And
it is no doubt true that there is a great deal that would
really come under the head of eschatology, and per
haps seem more appropriate to the prophet than to
1 Wellhausen directly contradicts this: 'In the Galilaean period He
does not announce at all, but He teaches' (EM. p. 106). This result can
only be obtained by laying the whole stress on Mark and ignoring the
second document (Q), as in Matt. x. 7, 23.

98 Cambridge Lectures
the teacher. All the parables and sayings that have
to do with watching might be classed under this head;
so might everything that has to do with judgment
and reward; and many of the parables of the Kingdom
might be described as eschatological.
Many — but by no means all. Especially the para
bles which form such a characteristic feature in the
Gospel of St. Luke (e. g. the Good Samaritan, and the
Pharisee and the Publican) would distinctly come
under the head of moral teaching; so would by far
the greater part of the Sermon on the Mount, and the
sayings that are allied to it. Nor can we ignore the
fact that our Lord is constantly addressed, both by
His disciples and by strangers, as Teacher or Rabbi.
The truth is that, both to His own disciples and to
the multitude, He appeared at once as teacher and
prophet. He is addressed almost indifferently now
as the one and now as the other. We need to take
account of both sides of His mission, if we are to form
an adequate conception of it.1
If we are to allow for teaching as well as prophetic
announcement, we shall require a greater length of
time : and the data seem to me to point in this direc
tion. No doubt the question as to the duration of our
Lord's ministry depends ultimately upon the extent
to which we adopt the time-references in the Fourth
Gospel. But there are some other indications that
seem to favour the longer period. Such, for instance,
would be the parallelism between our Lord's ministry
and the career of the Baptist. First, there is the time
1 Cf. Bousset, Jesus, pp. 21-33 (E. T.).

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 99
during which they were working near each other.
This, it is true, comes from the Fourth Gospel, but
seems to be intrinsically probable. Then there is the
Baptist's imprisonment, which cannot have been very
short, as we have to make room both for his interviews
with Herod Antipas, and also for reports to reach him
and doubts to arise in his mind about the mission of
our Lord. And then, after his death, we must again
allow a substantial interval before Herod could con
ceive the idea that our Lord was the Baptist risen
from the dead. This would not follow quite imme
diately. And lastly, there is the withdrawal of our
Lord to the North, which Professor Burkitt (p. 93)
estimates as extending over some eight months.
Another paradox of Schweitzer's to which I cannot
assent is the double contention (i) that there was no
political element in the Messianic expectation of the
Jews; and (ii) that our Lord had not in consequence
to recast and transform the Jewish idea. It is difficult
to understand exactly what Schweitzer can mean by
the first of these denials. I do not think that he has
ever quite explained his own meaning. Surely there
was a large political side to all the Jewish eschatology.
It arose in the first instance out of the Old Testament
doctrine of the ' Day of the Lord/ This was to be
primarily a day of judgment upon the enemies and
oppressors of Israel. It was only as a second step,
due directly to the teaching of the prophets, that it
came to be regarded as a judgment upon Israel itself.
The old idea was never repealed; and there was no
belief that glowed more fiercely in the breasts of the

ioo Cambridge Lectures
Jewish people. Josephus says almost in so many
words that it was the Messianic hope which excited
the people to break out in the Jewish war. He him
self discreetly explained that hope as fulfilled in
Vespasian {B. J. VI. v. 4).
I am aware that Schweitzer prides himself on the
logical thoroughness of his theory, and that he re
gards this thorough-going logic as essential to it. But
it seems to me that, in order to carry out this, he has
to ignore a good many well-attested facts. I believe
it to be, on the whole, as great a mistake to try to
explain everything in the Life of our Lord in terms
of eschatology, as it is to treat the eschatology as a
mere appendage.
To the wider aspect of the acceptance of the Jewish
eschatology by our Lord I shall return later on in
this lecture. In the meantime I would point out that
the general effect of the theory, where it is soundest,
is to heighten our sense of the historical trustworthi
ness of the Gospels. For instance, at the end of the
discussion about the title 'Son of Man/ Schweitzer
writes : —
We must needs remark in regard to this early pe
riod the fidelity of the tradition. The evangelists who
wrote in Greek, like the Greek-speaking Churches,
can have hardly understood any longer the purely
eschatological character of this name by which Jesus
described Himself. It had become for them nothing
more than a name. And yet they, and in particular
St. Mark, handed down the sayings of Jesus in such
a way that the original meaning and application of the
expression as used by Him is still clearly discernible

IV Survey and Criticism of Current Views 101
by us, and we can accordingly fix with certainty the
isolated cases in which the title holds a secondary place
in the text of His discourses. And so the use of the
expression ' Son of Man/ which, if we were to join in
the tour de force of Lietzmann and Wellhausen and v
strike it out as interpolated by Greek theology, would
throw doubt upon the whole evangelical tradition as
such, is exactly a proof of the sureness and trust
worthiness of this tradition. We may say generally,
that the progressive recognition of the eschatological
character of the teaching and acts of Jesus denotes a
progressive vindication of the evangelical tradition;
a whole series of sections and discourses that were
challenged, because from the standpoint of modern
theology taken as a test of the tradition they seemed
without meaning, are now assured. The stone of
critical stumbling has become the corner-stone of the
tradition (pp. 282 f.).
I And there are many other passages to a like effect.
I cannot, however, say that on this subject of the
historicity of the Gospels Schweitzer is quite consist
ent. All along the line of his own theory and his own
personal investigations the result is such as I have
just described. But in his history of research as ap
plied to the Gospels he seems to use a rather different
standard. In the broad outline of his survey he marks
off three main stages: the first dating from Strauss
in the year 1835 ; the second from Holtzmann and
his companions Schenkel, Weizsacker, and Hase from
1863 onwards ; and the third from Johannes Weiss in
the year 1892. The last of these periods has for its
chief characteristic the thorough application of escha
tology. The first period is regarded as practically set
tling the question of Miracles, and the second as in

102 Cambridge Lectures
like manner practically settling the question of the
Fourth Gospel.
Schweitzer does not say that the problem of Mira
cles is solved; he expressly guards himself against
saying this (p. 109). He thinks that we shall never
be able to say how the narratives arose and assumed
the form they bear; he would simply leave them
with a note of interrogation. But his view is that
from the time of Strauss onwards historical science
has practically left miracles on one side.
The criticism of Strauss was directed at once
against Rationalism and Supernaturalism. It was
more completely hostile to the former than to the lat
ter (pp. 104 f.). But, as Schweitzer rightly sees, it re
quires something different from both, indeed a new
way of conceiving the Supernatural. I would not at
all say that Schweitzer has completely succeeded in
defining this new conception. That is probably the
last thing that we shall any of us be able to do.
Schweitzer's language is not, I think, always consist
ent with itself; it leans sometimes to the destructive
side more than upon his own premises it ought to lean.
On the other hand his affirmations are sometimes
vaguer than they need be. Still I cannot withhold
from him the praise due to a courageous attempt to
solve a difficult problem. But, as the subject is dis
cussed at greater length elsewhere in these lectures
and in the present book, I will not pursue it further
at present.
In regard to Miracles, I could wish that Schweit
zer had given rather more prominence to his warning

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 103
against premature modernism. I quite agree that we
are compelled to modernize sooner or later. We are
modern men; and when we come to the final appro
priation and assimilation of ancient truth, we must
appropriate and assimilate it as modern men. But we
are apt to be in too great a hurry to get to this stage.
We intrude our modernism too soon. We mix it up
with the statement of ancient facts and the reproduc
tion of ancient thought. It is far better to keep the
two things separate — at least long enough to enable
us to see the ancient facts and ancient thought in the
full impressiveness of their own context.
And yet, when all is said, I doubt whether we shall
be able to find a much better description of the attitude
of many a loyal Christian than to say that he accepts
the narratives of miracles and of the miraculous as
they stand, but with a note of interrogation. If I
might put it in my own way, I think I should describe
it as ' a note of interrogation — in brackets and in the
margin.' By this I mean, a question that distinctly
does not touch the essence of the matter. We believe,
indeed we are sure, that virtue went forth from the
Person and presence of the Lord. But it is another
thing to adjust exactly our conception of the mode in
which it went forth to language that took shape
more than eighteen centuries ago under conditions of
thought and experience very different from our' own.
Such a marginal note as I have suggested will allow
sufficiently for this difference, without implying any
real disloyalty. And even a modern mind may be
content with so much reserve until its instruments are

104 Cambridge Lectures
sharpened to a finer edge of discrimination than they
are at present.
As to most of the evangelical miracles Schweitzer
contents himself with registering :the explanations
that from time to time have been given, without adopt
ing them. , But there is one .central miracle in regard
to which he' puts forward a view of his own that is
at least extremely interesting. This is the miracle of
the Feeding of the Five Thousand.
S.< In this (he says) everything is historical, except
the concluding remark, that they were all filled. Jesus
caused the food, which He and His disciples had with
them, to be distributed among the multitude, so that
every one of them received a little, after He had first
pronounced a thanksgiving over it. The significance
lies in the thanksgiving and in the fact that they re
ceived food consecrated by Him. As He is the com
ing Messiah, this meal, without their knowing it, be
comes the Messianic meal.
It will be remembered that the Messianic meal, or
banquet, held a definite place in the Jewish expecta
tion, on the strength of Isa. Iv. I ff., lxv. 12 ff., and
especially xxv. 6-8 : ' In this mountain shall the Lord
of hosts make unto all peoples a feast of fat things,
a feast of wines on the lees, of fat things full of
marrow, of wines on the lees well refined/ &c. It is
certainly in allusion to this that St. Luke represents
our Lord as saying at the Last Supper : ' I will not
drink from henceforth of the fruit of the vine until the
kingdom of God shall come ' ; and again, ' I appoint
unto you a kingdom, even as My Father appointed

IV Survey and Criticism of Current Views 105
unto Me, that ye may eat and drink at My table in
My kingdom ' (Luke xxii. 18, 29 f.). Schweitzer re
gards the Last Supper as a foretaste of the Messianic
feast. He goes on, with reference to the feeding by
the Sea of Galilee: —
With the portion of bread which He causes to be
distributed to them by the disciples, He consecrates
them to be partakers in the coming Messianic feast,
and gives them the guarantee that, as they had been
His table-companions in the time of His obscurity, so
should they be also in the time of His glory. In the
thanksgiving, He not only gave thanks for the food,
but also for the coming kingdom and all blessings. It
was the counterpart of the Lord's Prayer, where He
so remarkably inserts the petition for daily bread be
tween the petition for the coming of the kingdom,
and for preservation from temptation [or trial, which
Schweitzer explains of the trials which would accom
pany the first stage in the coming of the kingdom].
The feeding was more than a love-feast and feast of
communion. It was, from the standpoint of Jesus,
a Sacrament of deliverance (p. 373).
Schweitzer explains both the Sacraments in an
eschatological sense. Just as the one is a foretaste
of the Messianic feast, so also the other carries out
the idea of the sealing of a peculiar people, after the
manner of Ezek. ix. 4 f . : ' And the Lord said unto
him, Go through the midst of the city, through the
midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark upon the fore
heads of the men that sigh and that cry for all the
abominations that be done in the midst thereof. And
to the others he said in mine hearing, Go ye through
the city after him, and smite : let not your eye spare,

106 Cambridge Lectures
neither have ye pity.' Baptism was a sign of deliver
ance by which the Lord ' would know them that are
His ' in the judgement that was to come. Schweitzer
is quite right in saying that this is the conception that
prevailed throughout the Early Church. I am sorry
to be obliged to abridge this account of his views,
but they are full of interest. They will be found on
PP- 373-8.
We might naturally have supposed that, taking the
view that he does of the Feeding, Schweitzer would
see in it a mark of the authentic character of the
Fourth Gospel, which puts a very similar construction
upon it in the discourse in the synagogue at Caper
naum. But I am afraid that in regard to the Fourth
Gospel he simply accepts the conventional view cur
rent in German liberal circles. That there is a great
deal that is purely conventional in this view, I have
tried to show elsewhere.1 Schweitzer only repeats
what has been said, without testing it.
The question will no doubt be raised how far the
Fourth Gospel is compatible with any eschatological
theory at all. But this is just one of the things in
regard to which an impression exists that will not bear
examination. Of course we have to remember that the Fourth
Gospel was written at a time when the expectation of
the end which had been so strong and vivid in the
earlier years of Christian history was comparatively
in abeyance. The Fourth Gospel is at a level similar
to that of the later Epistles of St. Paul, and not the
* Criticism of the Fourth Gospel (1905), p. 130.

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 107
earlier. But, this being so, it is remarkable how much
there is in the Fourth Gospel of eschatological lan
guage and the eschatological mode of thought. For
instance this: —
Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour cometh,
and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the
Son of God; and they that hear shall live. For as
the Father hath life in Himself, even so gave He to
the Son also to have life in Himself: and He gave
Him authority to execute judgement, because He is
the Son of Man. Marvel not at this: for the hour
cometh in which all that are in the tombs shall hear
His voice, and shall come forth ; they that have done
good, unto the resurrection of life; and they that
have done ill, unto the resurrection of judgement
(John v. 25-9).
We observe here that our Lord speaks of the Mes
siah, under the titles Son of God and Son of Man,
objectively in the third person, just as He is repre
sented as doing in the Synoptic Gospels. And the
function of Judge ascribed to Him, as well as the idea
of bodily resurrection, is in accord with the tenor of
all eschatological teaching.
The use of the title Son of Man is also strictly
eschatological. I shall return to this at some length
in the next lecture, and will not dwell upon it now.
St. John's use of the title is in agreement with the
best views that are coming to be held about it. The
Jews say : ' We have heard out of the law that
the Christ abideth for ever: and how sayest Thou,
The Son of Man must be lifted up ? Who is this Son
of Man? ' (xii. 34). The use in the third person and

108 Cambridge Lectures
the question are exactly as they should be. So also is
that other question put by the crowd : ' How long dost
Thou hold us in suspense? If Thou art the Christ,
tell us plainly ' (x. 24). Clearly, in spite of some ap
pearances to the contrary, the evangelist was quite
aware of the reserve with which our Lord had put
forward His claim.
With due allowance for the special conditions (date
and purpose) of the Fourth Gospel, I do not think
that we shall find it really opposed to Schweitzer's
main theses. I imagine that the opposition to these
will rest rather upon two grounds : ( 1 ) the reluctance
to implicate our Lord in the fantastic imagery of the
Jewish apocalypses; and (2) the reluctance to ascribe
to Him a kind of outlook which in a literal sense is
unfulfilled, or, in other words, the difficulty of corre
lating this apocalyptic outlook with the actual course
of Christian history.
The reluctance in both cases is natural, and yet I
believe that it may be easily carried too far. On the
other hand, although I admire Schweitzer's unflinch
ing realism, and although I would not blame him for
pushing this to the verge of paradox, still it seems
to me that he has made his case more difficult than
it need be by exaggeration, and by stopping short
when he might have gone forward in the process of
reconstruction. Speaking broadly and with much reserve as to de
tails, I should be disposed to defend the main out
lines of his argument. I consider that we want more,
and not less, of realism in our understanding of the

/V Survey and Criticism of Current Views 109
New Testament. We should accustom ourselves to
the recognition of a large acceptance on the part of
our Lord of the ideas that He found in existence all
around Him. We should in each case start from the
sense in which those ideas were understood by His
contemporaries. And not until we have thoroughly
searched and sounded this sense should we turn to
look for another.
But, on the reverse side, we also must not stint our
recognition of the extent to which, in the very act
of adopting and using these ideas, our Lord really
remoulded and transformed them. And, most of all,
we must beware of withholding this recognition at
the bidding of certain tacit humanitarian presup
positions, which I suspect are present in Schweit
zer's book to a greater degree than he is himself
aware. Let me give one or two examples of what I mean :
first, from the non-apocalyptic portion of the Gospels,
and then from the apocalyptic.
In the Preliminary Lecture I discussed at some
length three marked examples of our Lord's method
of dealing with the figurative language and ideas in
herited from Judaism; and I may perhaps be allowed
to refer summarily to what I then said.
The first example was taken from the account of
the Temptation. I have always contended that this
is one of the most authentic things in the whole of
the Gospels; and that for the reason that it lies so
entirely beyond the reach of invention. Neither any
one of the original disciples, nor the primitive Church

no Cambridge Lectures
as a body, had insight enough to invent it. That
means that the story must ultimately have come from
our Lord Himself.
Now the first thing that strikes us in this story is
the extreme simplicity — what we might call the ver
nacular simplicity — of the outward form. The story
is told as a Jewish mother might have told it to a
Jewish child. The Power of Evil is represented in a
personal bodily form, and the machinery or setting
of the story is full of the marvellous — locomotion
through the air to impossible positions and with im
possible accompaniments, such as the literal view of
all the kingdoms of the world in a moment of time.
These celestial journeys, I have little doubt, were
suggested by the book of Ezekiel, where the prophet
is transported by the Spirit from place to place ; which
means that he was empowered to see in vision and to
describe what was going on in those places.
Realism could hardly go further. And yet the
meaning and essence of the Temptation is wholly
spiritual; it is the problem what is to be done with
supernatural powers ; shall the possessor of them use
them for his own sustenance, or for his own aggran
dizement? In what way is the kingdom of God to
be spread and established?
A second illustration was taken from the apoca
lyptic cycle. I have referred to it already in this
lecture, but I shall not hesitate to quote the verses
again, because, if I mistake not, they are of profound
significance for the understanding of our Lord's
method. 'AH the prophets and the law prophesied

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views in
until John. And if ye are willing to receive it, this is
Elijah, which is to come. He that hath ears to hear,
let him hear ' (Matt. xi. 13-15).
Here again I do not doubt that the popular idea was
a crude one. It was thought that Elijah would liter
ally rise from the dead, and resume his prophetic
work in preparation for the coming of the Messiah.
That was what the Scribes meant, when they said that
Elijah must first come ; and that was the kind of crude
sense in which Herod Antipas declared our Lord to
be the Baptist risen from the dead. But, because the
idea was crude, our Lord did not therefore discard it.
He took it as it was, but He applied it in a sense that
has about it nothing of crudity. He applied it to His
own real forerunner, who had indeed come ' in the
spirit and power of Elijah ' (Luke i. 17). It was by
His Divine pronouncement — by a word, and only by
a word — that the Baptist became Elijah.
The third example was our Lord's greeting to the
Seventy when they returned from their mission and
reported that even the devils were subject to them.
On this our Lord said, ' I beheld Satan fall as light
ning from heaven ' (Luke x. 18). This too is apoca
lyptic language: it belongs to the same category as
the description of Satan being bound and cast into the
lake of fire in the Revelation of St. John. That, it
might be said, is Jewish and fantastic; but the mean
ing of our Lord was not at all fantastic. What He
meant was that the victory over the Power of Evil
was virtually won. The healing of those few demo
niacs might seem a small thing; but it was not a

112 Cambridge Lectures
small thing; it was really a crisis — the crisis in the
history of the human race.
We may take this last instance as typical of the
whole way in which our Lord adopted, and in adopt
ing transmuted, the apocalyptic tradition. When we
begin to read the Gospels systematically with a view
to see how much of their language really belongs to
this tradition, we shall probably be surprised at its
amount. And then, we begin to ask ourselves, in what
relation does it stand to the history of the primitive
Church ?
Happily for us, the problem which is becoming ur
gent for ourselves presented itself also to that age
of the Church, and had to be solved by its leaders.
Nothing can be more instructive than the way in
which they dealt with it. One of the clearest proofs
that our Lord's teaching must have been largely
eschatological is supplied by the fact that after the
Ascension the attitude of the Church is so predomi
nantly eschatological. Not only do we find, when we
really look into it, *hat the early chapters of the Acts
presuppose an attitude of this kind (Acts i. ii, ii. 16-
21, 36-40, 47, iii. 18-21, 26, iv. 2, 11, 12, v. 31, 32, vii.
56), but — what is more significant — when the curtain
rises in the form of strictly contemporary literature
some twenty years or a little more later, the Church is
still in the same attitude. Both 1 and 2 Thessalonians
are essentially eschatological. In 1 Thess. i. 9, 10,
we have a summary description of the newly-founded
Church, which had so lately ' turned unto God from
idols, to serve a living and true God, and to wait for

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 113
His Son from heaven, whom He raised from the
dead, even Jesus, which delivereth us from the wrath
to come.' In like manner the .Church at Corinth is
addressed as waiting for the revelation of our Lord
Jesus Christ; who should also confirm them unto the
end, that they might be unreprovable in the day of our
Lord Jesus Christ (1 Cor. i. 7, 8). A little later, in
the same Epistle, we have a vivid description of what
this ' waiting ' meant : ' But this I say, brethren, the
time is shortened, that henceforth both those that
have wives may be as though they had none; and
those that weep, as though they wept not; and those
that rejoice, as though they rejoiced not; and those
that buy, as though they possessed not ; and those that
use the world, as not abusing it: for the fashion of
this world passeth away ' (vii. 29-31 ). And the part
ing words of the Epistle (xvi. 22) are, ' Mar an atha '
— the Christian greeting, ' Our Lord cometh.'
From such indications as these it is not difficult for
us to form for ourselves a picture of the attitude —
the deliberate and prevailing attitude — of the Church
about the years 50-56 a. d. It is, I think we may say,
in entire agreement with the other picture that we
frame for ourselves from data contained in the Gos
pels. If our Lord used the language that He is repre
sented to have used, then the attitude of the Church
for the first twenty-five or thirty years of its history
is easily and naturally explained. The rest of the cen
tury witnessed various fluctuations of feeling; some
times the expectation appeared to be weakened, but
only to break out with redoubled force, as at the time

114 Cambridge Lectures
of the Jewish War and towards the end of the reign
of Domitian, when we see it in full eruption in the
book of Revelation. , After that the expectation again
began to decline, lingering on as the shadow of its
former self among the Chiliasts or Millennarians.
But what had happened in the meantime? Behind
the screen (so to speak) of eschatology the Church
had gradually been building up for itself an organized
body of thought, the imposing structure that we call
its Theology. We can follow the process even now in
the great Epistles of St. Paul. But there is evidence
enough that according to the measure of their power
other leaders of the Church had been doing the same
thing. The Pauline Churches were not the whole
Church, neither was Pauline Christianity the whole of
Christianity. Not to appeal to examples that might
be questioned, the Epistle of St. James and the book
of Revelation represent the conspicuous and energetic
expression of non-Pauline belief.
But the main question that we have to ask our
selves is, in what relation does the broad develop
ment of the Church in the first two generations of its
history stand to the ministry and teaching of Christ
Himself, and especially to that ministry and teaching
regarded in the light of eschatology? In particular,
what relation does the subsequent development bear
to our Lord's own outlook beyond the tomb — that
tomb of His which was filled for a brief space, but
so soon found empty?
This last form of question is one that I shall not
attempt to answer directly. When we get on to the

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 115
ground of the ultimate consciousness of our Lord
Jesus Christ we must restrain our words and not
speak as though we knew more than we do. But we
may take definite language used, and compare it with
the facts.
Here is a salient passage which I will take in its
oldest and best attested form : ' Verily I say unto you,
There be some here of them that stand by, which shall
in no wise taste of death, till they see the kingdom of
God come with power' (Mark ix. 1). What is the
essential meaning of the kingdom of God? Is it not
the asserted and realized sovereignty of God, Divine
influence and Divine power felt as energizing in the
souls of men ? Is not this the eternal reality — as dis
tinct from any temporary expression — of what we
mean by the phrase ? But what, again, is that, when
we look at it closely, but the apostolic doctrine of the
Holy Spirit? And, if we ask further at what point
in history did a new access of this Divine power and
energy enter into the world, shall we not say, from
the Day of Pentecost onwards ? We still pray, Thy
kingdom come. And Christians from the first have in
like manner prayed for its coming all down the cen
turies. There has been, and still is, a real Coming;
and yet we feel that the Coming has never yet been
exhausted; in its plenitude it is still far off.1
1 There is a good passage to like effect in Julius Kaftan, Jesus u. Paulus
(1906), p. 23 f.: — 'From this purely historical point of view there are two
factors of which we have to take account. First, there is the cycle of apoc
alyptic ideas, from which are taken the root conceptions of the preaching
of Jesus — the Kingdom of God and the Messiah, the forgiveness of sins
and redemption. In the second place, there is the spiritual force in Jesus

n6 Cambridge Lectures
It is perhaps easiest for us to apprehend this if
we adopt for the moment the impersonal phrase, and
speak of the kingdom or sovereignty of God coming
with power. But the meaning is not different if we
employ the other more personal form and speak,
with St. Matthew, of the Son of Man coming in His
kingdom. The apostolic doctrine undoubtedly was that the
coming of the Holy Spirit was a coming of the Son.
This is the very clear teaching of St. Paul (Rom. viii.
9-1 1), and it is also the teaching of St. John. 'A
little while and ye behold Me not, and again a little
while and ye shall see Me.' ' I will not leave you
orphans, I will come to you/ ' But the Comforter (or
Advocate), even the Holy Spirit, whom the Father
will send in My Name, He shall teach you all things,
and bring to your remembrance all that I said unto
Himself, by virtue of which through an inward necessity of His being He
knows Himself to be the Messiah, the Son of the Father. Out of the tension
between these two factors the preaching of Jesus arose. All attempts to reduce
it to a single rule, or to force it upon the horns of a dilemma between which
a choice must be made, break down in face of the facts. In particular, we
must not ask whether the kingdom of God and the Messiah are future or
present, in order to take this for our guide in one sense or the other. Every
thing is yet future, because all must see that the existing order of things,
the alav ovtos, still prevails. For the apocalyptic conceptions in the
mouth of Jesus are not to be understood symbolically or as a form of words
(Einkleidung), but realistically. [Is it necessary to oppose "symbolical"
and "realistic" in this way? May not an idea be realistically expressed —
i. e. expressed through some strongly material forms, and yet be in the last
resort symbolical?] And yet everything is already present; the Bride
groom has come; the Son of Man has appeared among men. Only a par
adoxical formula can cover the actual historical facts. And that must run
thus: The future salvation has become present, and yet has not ceased to be
future.' The italics are Kaftan's.

IV. Survey and Criticism of Current Views 117
you' (St. John xvi. 19; xiv. 18, 26). This is really
the teaching of Romans viii; and then, from Rom.
viii the transition is easy to Rom. xiv. 17: ' The king
dom of God is not eating and drinking, but righteous
ness and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.' The king
dom of God is here closely associated with the gift
of the Holy Ghost; and it is a present kingdom. In
like manner, it is of a present kingdom that the Apos
tle speaks, when he says that ' the kingdom of God is
not in word, but in power ' ( 1 Cor. iv. 20) . It is also
a present kingdom into which Christians are already
' translated ' (Col. i. 13). And yet the Apostle speaks
none the less of the kingdom as future, as something
to be inherited (1 Cor. vi. 9, 10; xv. 50; Gal. v. 21;
Eph. v. 5) and reserved for the elect (2 Thess. i. 5;
2 Tim. iv. 18), as something that will be grander
and more perfect than it is now (1 Cor. xv. 24; 2
Tim. iv. 1).
Both writers are really describing the facts of their
own day. They are describing the new force that
they felt had entered into the world ; a force of which
St. Paul had had no experience when he was a
Pharisee. It was a force that both writers were con
scious had come down from heaven. It came from
that abode whither Christ had gone; it was a direct
continuation of His work; and yet the future might
see it more triumphant than ever.
When, in the light of these things, we look back
upon such a passage as St. Mark ix. 1, I cannot help
asking if it is not possible that the coming of the
kingdom of which our Lord spoke at least included

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within its scope that great wave of energy and enthu
siasm which dated from the day of Pentecost? The
prophetic language, even of our Lord Himself, is
couched in parables which we must not always expect
to be able to reduce to plain prose. It would certainly
be wrong to assume that He meant nothing more than
His contemporaries might have meant by the same
words. But in a case like this, which relates to the
fulfilment of prophecy in history, the problem is to
determine, not only what the Son meant, but what the
Father meant, speaking through the Son : x
IIoWol fiev dv7]T0i<; yK&o-aai, fila 8' aBavaTOunv.
1 This point is more fully developed below (pp. 198-200).

V

THE DEITY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST AS EXPRESSED
IN THE GOSPELS
In the three preceding lectures I have been trying
to put before you what I may call the eschatological
theory of the Life and Teaching of our Lord : first, to
trace its history, and the steps by which it has come
to the front: then to expound and, in expounding,
also partly to criticize it.
Speaking very summarily, the theory — or so much
of it as most demands our attention — is something of
this kind.
Although our Lord, at least from the Baptism on
wards, had the clear consciousness that He was Him
self the promised Messiah, yet He did not at once
press His claim, but deliberately sought rather to
conceal than to assert it. Although He was the Mes
siah, the time for entering upon His full Messianic
functions was not yet. The Kingdom of God, which
the Messiah was to inaugurate, was not as yet present
but future. The announcement with which our Lord
began His ministry repeated exactly the announce
ment made by the Baptist : it was not ' The kingdom
of God is here/ but ' The kingdom of God is at hand.'
The petition in the Lord's Prayer is also future : ' Thy
119

120 Cambridge Lectures
kingdom come.' The kingdom thus intended was not
merely an increased activity of Divine working con
ducted through the ordinary natural channels, but a
supernatural divine activity, such as the Jews ex
pected at the close of the existing aeon or world-age.
As being supernatural, it was necessarily not present,
but future. This was the sense in which our Lord
preached the Gospel of the Kingdom. His public min
istry, as we look back upon it, was not the establish
ment of the kingdom, but a stage preliminary to its
establishment. The real inauguration of the king
dom was to take place when the Messiah came to His
own in declared supremacy. The precautions which
our Lord took to prevent a premature disclosure of
the Divine counsels were successful. Only His most
intimate disciples guessed the secret, and even they
not until His ministry was far advanced, when St.
Peter, acting as their spokesman, rose to the confes
sion that his Master was the Christ. The people at
large knew that Jesus of Nazareth was a prophet, and
they had a sort of uneasy feeling that He might be
more; but not until our Lord assented to the interro
gation of the high priest did He Himself publicly and
categorically affirm His own Messiahship.
Before He did this, He already knew and had al
ready foretold that His present condition must come
to an end, and a great change intervene before the
consummation could come. The coming of the Mes
siah with the clouds of heaven was not to be con
fused with the earthly mission of Him who had not
where to lay His head. Before He could come from

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 121
heaven, He must first be transported thither. He
must needs die ; and He must needs rise again ; it was
through. the grave and gate of death alone that He
could enter upon His full Messianic inheritance.
I am free to confess that in the theory, thus broadly
stated, there seems to me to be a large element of
truth, and of what I suspect for most of us will be new
truth. I doubt if we have realized — I am sure that I
myself until lately had not adequately realized — how
far the centre of gravity (so to speak) of our Lord's
ministry and mission, even as they might have been
seen and followed by a contemporary, lay beyond the
grave. I doubt if we have realized to what an extent
He conceived of the kingdom of heaven, that central
term in His teaching, as essentially future and essen
tially supernatural. I doubt if we have quite under
stood the reticence and reserve with which our Lord
put forward His own claim, though the claim was
there, or rather the consciousness on which it was
based, all the time. I doubt if we have appreciated
the preliminary or preparatory character of His mis
sion; the gradualness of the disclosures made in the
course of it ; in particular, the ' mysteries ' or secrets
which were an important part of His teaching — the
mystery of the Messiah, the mystery of the Kingdom,
the mystery of Suffering. I doubt if we have recog
nized the extent to which our Lord, while transcend
ing the current Jewish notions of the time, yet in
almost every instance starts from them.
One main argument for such a construction of the
Gospel History as I have been describing seems to

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me to be the way in which it fits in with the attitude
of mind that we find prevailing in the Early Church,
when the curtain rises and we get our first contem
porary pictures of it.
And if I am asked further, as to the transition from
an eschatological way of looking at things to a non-
eschatological, I would reply that we can nowhere see
it better carried out than in the writings that have
actually come down to us from the Apostolic age, and
that I fully believe were in the main working out hints
and intimations of our Lord Himself. I also think
that we have evidence enough that our Lord's own
teaching was deeply symbolical and that, if we did
but know, the ultimate reality would be found to cor
respond more nearly to the actual historical course of
events than we are apt to suppose. I am inclined to
believe — though this is speculation, that I would not
express otherwise than very tentatively — that the real
coming of the Kingdom — the fact corresponding to it
in the field of ultimate realities — is what we are in
the habit of calling the work of the Holy Spirit, from
the day of Pentecost onwards; the presence of a di
vine force, drawing and annexing (so far as the re
sistance of human wills allows it) the world to itself,
but as yet still in mid process, and with possibilities
in the future of which we perhaps hardly dream.
With this much of retrospect, I pass on to the sub
ject of this, my last lecture, which singles out what
for us Christians must needs be the central point of
interest in the whole construction, the place in it that

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 123
we are to assign to our Lord Jesus Christ Himself.
The problem still turns round the use of those old
names — Son of Man, Son of God, Messiah.
In regard to all three, I think that we stand on
firmer and clearer ground than we did. I am speak
ing not so much of the state of things in this country
as in the world at large, and more particularly in Ger
many, and not so much of the actual balance of opin
ion as of what we can ourselves digest and make our
own. Speaking in this sense, I should say that we
have passed through a period of keen criticism. Some
searching questions have been raised, which I think
we may now more or less definitely put behind us.
We have seen how doubts have been thrown, on lin
guistic grounds, upon the use by our Lord of the title
Son of Man with reference to Himself. We have
seen how those doubts have receded; and I do not
think that they will ever be urged with so much in
sistence again. Even if we are to take the phrase
' son of man ' as an Aramaic equivalent for ' man,'
it would by no means follow that our Lord cannot
have applied it to Himself.
I am no Semitic scholar ; but there is just one point
that I should like to submit for consideration, and
which I do not remember to have seen noticed. The
point of the linguistic argument was that, in the
Aramaic phrase, ' son ' has so far lost its force that
the phrase as a whole meant no more than simply
' man/ Now we know that in the book of Ezekiel
' son of man ' is the standing phrase by which the
prophet describes himself. That is no doubt Hebrew,

124 Cambridge Lectures
and not Aramaic. But, in a people so devoted to the
Bible as the Jews, it was impossible that a usage so
marked as this could be forgotten. Whatever degra
dation the phrase may have undergone in common
speech, the Biblical use must at any time have been
capable of being revived as a mode of address. The
Jews knew their Bibles so well that there can never
have been anything really strange in it. This general
argument seems to me to come in to reinforce the
conclusion at which I believe Aramaic scholars had
arrived that, even if we do take the phrase as mean
ing little more than ' the Man/ exception cannot be
taken to the use ascribed to our Lord in the Gospels.
In any case it must have been difficult to sustain
the objection. The phenomena that the Gospels pre
sent in regard to this usage are remarkable, and de
serve to be dwelt upon in some detail. Let me first
remind you of the statistics. The phrase ' Son of
Man/ in the mouth of our Lord, occurs 14 times in
St. Mark, 30 times in St. Matthew, 25 times in St.
Luke, and 12 times in St. John. Naturally, the two
longest Gospels have the greatest number of occur
rences. But the student of the Synoptic Problem sees
at a glance something more than this. He sees at
once that the phrase occurs with considerable fre
quency in both of his leading documents ; — in ' the
Mark-gospel probably about 14 times (8 Mk. Mt.
Lk. + 5 Mk. Mt. + 1 Mk. Lk.), in the Logia or non-
Marcan document at least 8 times. Besides these, it
occurs 9 times in special matter of St. Matthew, and
8 times in special matter of St. Luke. Not all of

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 125
these instances need necessarily come from a peculiar
source, but the majority probably do so. In addition
to this there are the occurrences in St. John, and one
in an extant fragment of the Gospel according to the
Hebrews. In other words, we might say that the
phrase is found in practically every document that
criticism has to postulate. More strictly, I should
have said, in -eYery evangelical document; for the re
markable thing is that it occurs hardly anywhere in
other ^writings than Gospels. There is, as is well
known, one solitary example in the Acts (vii. 56), not
one in the whole body of Epistles, and two — where
the ultimate reference is probably to Dan. vii. 13 — in
the Apocalypse. The phrase is equally rare Jn_earbyJ
Christian literature outside the Canon; and it is worth
while to notice that, "in fEe Gospels, it is always put
into the mouth of our Lord Himself, and is never used
by the evangelists in their own persons.
Let me invite your attention to these surprising
literary phenomena. They seem to me, and have
always seemed, to throw a vivid light on the high
character for trustworthiness of our Gospels. It is
often argued that particular expressions or ideas come
from St. Paul, or from the theology of the Early
Church. Here is an expression that certainly does
not come from either; the evidence for it in any such'
connexion is infinitesimal. Really, it can only go back
to our Lord Himself, and it bears speaking testimony
to the fidelity with which His words have been pre
served. And now, further, what is the meaning of the title ?

126 Cambridge Lectures ,
Let us recall its history. We begin with the yision
in Dan. yii. The prophet has been following the
fate of the four great world-empires, the Babylonian,
Median, Persian, and Greek, each impersonated under
the form of a beast of prey — the first like a lion, the
second like a bear, and so on. One by one they are
brought before the throne of Divine Judgement, and
one by one they are condemned and deposed. Then
a fifth figure comes before the Almighty, ' like unto
a son of man/ i. e. like a man. This Figure, we are
told, stands for the ' saints of the Most High ' (ver.
18), i.e. the purified and regenerate Israel. This
manlike Figure also receives a kingdom, which is not
only for a time but eternal.
The next writing in which any such impersonation
appears is the Book of Enoch (xlvi-xlviii, lxii, lxix,
lxx). This time the manlike Figure is no longer the
collective Israel, but the personal Messiah. For a
Jew, that was an easy transition of thought, of which
we have many examples. From the Similitudes of
Enoch onwards all the allusions to the Son of Man
are Messianic: so not only in Christian sources but
in 4 Ezra xiii. 3 ff.
Still, the title was not, I believe, very widely cur
rent. It does not appear in the Rabbinical writings
proper. The apocalyptic teaching, though its main
outlines were well known, had about it something
esoteric. And that, I conceive, was one of the rea
sons that recommended the title to our Lord. We
have seen that a great part of the time when He
spoke of the Son of Man His hearers probably did

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 127
not understand that He was speaking of Him
self. But I believe that there was another reason; and
on this I should like to lay a little stress, because I
do not think that it has had the prominence that it
deserves. I believe that our Lord rarely took up a Jewish
idea without putting into it more than He found
there. And this enrichment constantly came from
His profound intimacy with the Old Testament. I
believe that we should at any time be justified in
supposing that at least the leading passages in which
a phrase that He makes use of occurs were present
to His mind. But, apart from such general presump
tion, we have evidence that He appealed to Psalm
viii in His quotation of the verse, ' Out of the mouth
of babes and sucklings Thou has perfected praise '
(Matt. xxi. 16). And we also know that in the
apostolic age this Psalm was quoted as Messianic
(Heb. ii. 5-9, an elaborate and important passage,
in which I would ask you specially to note how the
writer glides into the subject of suffering; comp.
1 Cor. xv. 27). This fact seems to me to raise a
considerable presumption that the Psalm was in our
Lord's mind when He called Himself the Son of Man.
Now this splendid Psalm was no doubt in the first
instance written of Man, in the sense of Humanity :
' What is Man that Thou art mindful of him, or the
Son of Man that Thou so regardest him? ' So that,
in taking it to Himself, it seems to me that our Lord
must have regarded Himself as in some manner rep-

128 Cambridge Lectures
resenting Humanity. The idea of ' representing ' may
seem to be too modern; and that of embodying an
ideal humanity may seem to be more modern still. I
do not know exactly what expression to use so as to
avoid this. An ancient might have had some diffi
culty in expressing the abstract idea; it seems to me
that the word ' represent ' is just what the ancients
wanted. But, however that may be, I feel sure that
there was a deep reality corresponding to it in the
consciousness of our Lord. The great passage to
which I would appeal in proof is St. Matt. xxv. 31-
46/ Here, as in the Book of Enoch, the Son of Man
is seated on His throne as Judge; and He accepts
some, and rejects others, of those who are brought
before Him, on the express ground that actions done,
or not done, to their fellow-men, had been done, or
not done, to Him.
This is the most conspicuous, but it is not by any
means the only passage in which the representative
or inclusive idea is brought out in the Gospels. I
would refer to the same head such sayings as, ' Every
one who shall confess Me before men, him will I also
confess before My Father which is in Heaven; and
he that receiveth you receiveth Me, and he that re-
ceiveth Me receiveth Him that sent Me ' (Matt. x.
32, 40), and the like.
I believe that this whole group of passages is of
1 I am aware that doubt is thrown on this passage by some critics.
But- the doubt is most wanton. Where is the second brain that could
have invented anything so original and so sublime as w. 35-40, 42-5?

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 129
great importance. On the one hand it seems to arise
very simply and naturally out of the use of the title
Son of Man. It is but a kind of revival of the col
lective or corporate idea contained in that title from
the first, though partially dormant in some of its ap
plications. The easy contraction and expansion of
the idea was, as I have said, just what would be
natural and characteristic to a Jewish mind. And, on
the other hand, there are few things in the Synoptic
Gospels which I think also go so far to explain the
Christology of the Early Church. What we have in
the Gospels is not formulated doctrine; but it does
express those living traits, those vital root-relations,
of which the formulated doctrine was intended to take
account. These are the kind of expressions that we find in
the Gospels : ' that ye may know that the Son of Man
hath power on earth to forgive sins ' ; ' He spake as
one having authority, and not as the scribes ' ; ' be
hold, a greater than Solomon, a greater than Jonah,
is here ! ' It is in such subdued, but intensely human
ways, that the Synoptic Gospels express what we call
the Deity of Christ. But when we take all these ex
pressions together, we see how they lead up to the
conclusion that He was really more than man.
Going back for a moment to Ps. viii, I would sug
gest that it may be with this Psalm that we should
associate all those hints of lowliness, humiliation,
and suffering that form the other side of the portrait
of the Son of Man. The Psalm really teaches Pas
cal's doctrine at once of the littleness and of the

130 Cambridge Lectures
greatness of man. That is the wonder of it, that a
creature to all appearance so poor and feeble should
have such an exalted destiny. It seems to me that
our Lord must have dwelt much on this, as well as
on the other side of the picture, and that He looked
at it in the light of His own experiences. At a later
date, when the Passion came clearly into view, a new
set of scriptures was brought to remembrance — all
those which helped to portray the suffering Servant
whether in psalm or in prophecy. So no element in
the complex nature and fortunes of Man was left out.
We might say that on these lines the Son of Man
fathomed the mystery of His own incarnation.
When we pass over to the title Son of God, there
are perhaps two points that may be brought out with
out going over again ground that is already too well
trodden. We naturally take together not only the
instances in which the title Son in a unique sense ap
pears to have express Divine sanction (as in the nar
ratives of the Baptism arid the Transfiguration), but
also the other places in which there is mention of ' the
Father ' or ' My Father ' and ' the Son/ The latter
class of passages is of course to be found far more
frequently in the Fourth Gospel than in the others.
' The Father ' and ' My Father ' are fairly frequent
in St. Matthew and St. Luke, testifying apparently
to the usage of the second main document that we
now call Q. In St. Mark there are only four ex
amples of the use of Trartfp of divine Fatherhood.
But it is worth while to notice that two of these places

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 131
are what may be called strong examples of the usage
of which we are speaking. One is eschatological,
where the Son of Man is described as coming ' in the
glory of His Father with the holy angels ' (Mark
viii. 38). The other is the famous passage in which
it is said that the hour of the Messiah's coming
'knoweth no one, not even the angels in heaven,
neither the Son, but the Father' (Mark xii. 32).
This is one of Schmiedel's ' foundation-pillars ' of the
Gospel narrative which, because they happen to con
tain negatives, he thinks may be accepted without any
suspicion of their genuineness. In this I think we
may agree with him, though I should be very far
from agreeing that, because we attach special weight
to these passages as being exceptions to the main
tenor of the tradition, therefore we can afford to neg
lect that main body of tradition which alone gives
them force as exceptions. It is, however, of real im
portance, in estimating the testimony to the two cor
relative forms ' the Father ' and ' the Son/ that one
of the leading passages in St. Mark should bear this
stamp. Another important branch of the evidence for this
usage is supplied by the Pauline Epistles. It is in
deed a notable fact that the phrase ' God the Father ' ^
should occur almost in the- opening words of the old
est extant Epistle, 1 Thessalonians. It is well known
that the phrase is especially common in these opening
salutations. We cannot think that it is a new coinage
of St. Paul's. It comes to his pen quite naturally,
and not as though it needed any explanation. I think

132 Cambridge Lectures
we may safely set it down as part of the general vo
cabulary of Christians. Its occurrence in the Logian
document (Q) is proof that it was familiar in circles
far removed from Pauline influence.
There is a further point in this connexion that I
think also deserves some emphasis. Those who think
that our Lord was deified by the Early Church, as a
rule throw the onus of this deification upon St. Paul.
We have just seen that one of the phrases by which
it is conveyed is not at all likely to have been his in
vention. But another set of considerations tends to
the same conclusion.
St. Paul has a view of his own as to the outstand
ing moment in the Sonship of Christ. He expresses
this in set terms when he speaks of Christ as 'de
clared/ or 'determined, to be the Son of God with
power by the resurrection of the dead' (Rom. i. 4).
The Resurrection (or, more strictly, the Ascension)'
is equally regarded as a turning-point in Phil. ii.
9-1 1.
We may call this the specially Pauline view; and
the same kind of stress is laid upon the Resurrection
in Acts ii. 36: 'Let all the house of Israel know
assuredly, that God hath made Him both Lord and
Christ, this Jesus whom ye crucified/
This is not exactly the view of the Gospels, and in
particular of the fundamental narrative-Gospel St.
Mark. Here the divine Sonship of Christ is dated at
least from the Baptism. I say ' at least/ because there
is some degree of ambiguity as to the exact amount
of significance to be attached to the Baptism. We can

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 133
see that both the Baptism and the Resurrection were
conspicuous landmarks in the life of Christ. But pre
cisely how much is implied in either event is left
unexplained. The Gospels of St. Matthew and St.
Luke carry back the divine Sonship behind the Bap
tism to the Birth. St. Luke makes the youthful Jesus
at the age of twelve already speak of God as ' My
Father ' (Luke ii. 49). The prologue to the Fourth
Gospel of course goes further back still. Here, then,
we have a succession of steps ; but we can only specu
late as to the degree of significance of the later steps
in relation to each other and to the earlier. There is
no explicit statement on the point. But the marked
variety of view is, I think, sufficient proof that we
cannot really refer the deification of Christ to St. Paul.
There is, I believe, not a single reference in the whole
of his writings to our Lord's Baptism, as a landmark
or turning-point in His career. The idea of Sonship
in the Gospels — both the Synoptics and the Fourth
Gospel — is really developed on other lines than his.
St. Paul stands apart ; and although the author of the
Third Gospel and the Acts shows acquaintance with
the same point of view, the probability is that even
that point of view was really older than both St. Luke
and St. Paul, and in each case was derived and not
original. The active mind of St. Paul no doubt
worked out, enriched, and applied in manifold detail
the ideas that came to him. But the workshop in
which those ideas, in their simpler form, were forged
was the apostolic Community in its early sojourn at
Jerusalem.

134 Cambridge Lectures
We have spoken of the two main titles, Son of Man
. and Son of God : the latter, used sparingly and for the
most part indirectly by our Lord Himself ; the former,
His own special choice and the mould in which He
cast the deepest utterances of His self-consciousness
and of His experience. There remains a third title,
Christ or Messiah, of which Son of Man is really a
variant. It is a variant in two directions ; one, strictly
eschatological, and in the current tradition of the time,
tending to be narrowed down to the function of the
Messiah as Judge; the other, made the receptacle for
our Lord's own conception of His character and mis
sion. The name Messiah was a rather wider embodi
ment of the Jewish expectation with a stronger em
phasis on the function of the King as contrasted with
that of the Judge.
For a classical example of the idea of the Messiah
as it was inherited by our Lord from the century that
.preceded His coming, we cannot do better than go to
the seventeenth of the Psalms of Solomon. I give
the extract in the translation of Drs. Ryle and
James : —
Behold, O Lord, and raise up unto them their king,
the son of David, in the time which thou, O God,
knowest, that he may reign over Israel thy servant;
And gird him with strength that he may break in
pieces them that rule unjustly.
Purge Jerusalem from the heathen that trample her
down to destroy her with wisdom and with righteous
ness. He shall thrust out the sinners from the inheritance,
utterly destroy the proud spirit of the sinners, and as

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 135
potter's vessels with a rod of iron shall he break in
pieces all their substances.
He shall destroy the ungodly nations with the
sword of his mouth, so that at his rebuke the nations
may flee before him, and he shall convict the sinners
in the thoughts of their hearts.
And he shall gather together a holy people, whom
he sTiall lead in righteousness; and shall judge the
tribes of the people that hath been sanctioned by the
Lord his God.
And he shall not suffer iniquity to lodge in their
midst ; and none that knoweth wickedness shall dwell
with them.
For he shall take knowledge of them, that they be
all the sons of their God, and shall divide them upon
the earth according to their tribes.
And the sojourner and the stranger shall dwell with
them no more.
He shall judge the nations and the peoples with the
wisdom of his righteousness.
And he shall possess the nations of the heathen to
serve him beneath his yoke; and he shall glorify the
Lord in a place to be seen of the whole earth;
And he shall purge Jerusalem and make it holy,
even as it was in the days of old.
So that the nations may come from the ends of the
earth to see his glory, bringing as gifts her sons that
had fainted,
And may see the glory of the Lord, wherewith God
hath glorified her.
And a righteous king and taught of God is he that
reigneth over them ;
And there shall be no iniquity in his days in their
midst, for all shall be holy and their king is the Lord
Messiah (Pss. Sol. xvii. 23-36).
This is not the whole of the passage, but it will be
enough for my purpose. It will show, unless I have

136 Cambridge Lectures
misunderstood him, how wrong Schweitzer is in deny
ing the political element in the Jewish conception.
The conception is all political, based upon the circum
stances of the moment. It expresses the dissatisfac
tion of the Pharisees with what they considered the
usurping regime of the Hasmonaean princes, as well
as their deep-seated antipathy to foreign rulers. The
ideal to which the writer clings is one in which there
shall not be an alien left in the midst of the holy
people (ver. 31).
All this intensely national and particularist side of
the expectation our Lord certainly discarded. But
He did not discard the eschatological side. We must
not forget that the kingdom just described, although
on earth, is yet essentially eschatological ; and, because
eschatological, it is also essentially transcendental and
supernatural. It is brought about by the intervention
of God Himself ; and that intervention takes the form
of a series of catastrophes, which must come to pass
before the reign of righteousness can begin.
There is no explaining away this deep-rooted ele
ment in the consciousness of our Lord. On this rock
the persistent efforts to minimize the significance of
His Person must assuredly be shipwrecked. Such
chance of success as they have ever seemed to have
has arisen from the fact that the period of His earthly
ministry was really a period (so to speak) of occupa
tion, in which the full display of His divine power was
deliberately restrained and held back. But behind all
our Lord's teaching we can see the conviction that
this restraint would be only for a time, that His mani-

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 137
festation in His true character was only delayed,
and that He Himself would be the chief agent in
making real and effectual the reign of God upon
earth. The appellation ' Son of David ' is just a sub-head
of the doctrine of the Messiah. In liberal quarters it
is commonly held that the question raised by our Lord
in St. Mark xii. 35-7 and parallels was intended as a
disclaimer for Himself of the title. But it seems to
me that Schweitzer's reply (p. 392) to this view is
complete. The question propounded was no mere ab
stract conundrum: it was a real problem, which had
exercised the mind of our Lord Himself, as it had for
Him a very personal bearing. He really had the
answer to the question, though He did not give it.
As descendant of David, He was to that extent sub
ordinate to him ; but as Son of Man enthroned at the
right hand of God, He was his Lord.
So far I have been drawing only upon Synoptic
Gospels. When we turn to the Fourth Gospel, the
first thing that we have to do is to distinguish between
the teaching of the main body of the Gospel which
is put into the mouth of Christ, and the teach
ing which belongs to the evangelist in his own
person. Copious as it is, the language that falls under the
first head is all the development of a single idea. It
all grows out of the filial relation ; it is a working-out
of the implications of the title Son of God. The idea,
as we have seen, rests upon evidence that is far older
than the Fourth Gospel. It would not be wrong to

138 Cambridge Lectures
call it the first proposition of Christian theology, the
first product of reflection upon the Life of Christ
that has come down to us. The most detailed analysis
of the idea is no doubt to be found in the Fourth
Gospel; but that Gospel really adds nothing funda
mentally new. When once we assume that our Lord
Jesus Christ thought of Himself as Son, thought of
Himself as the Son, thought of God as in a peculiar
sense LJis Father, or the Father, all the essential data
are before us.
The Fourth Gospel enlarges upon this theme more
than the others. It does so for a special purpose, be
cause it is the very centre and pivot of Christianity.
The writer of the Fourth Gospel wanted to make
Christians— convinced Christians, and therefore it is
that he reiterates the truth which he thought best
designed to make them.
He no longer, or but rarely — as we have seen —
throws this into an eschatological form. Not that
he denied, or dropped, the expectation that the Lord
would really return to His people — the First Epistle
says expressly, ' Little children, it is the last hour '
(ii. 18) — but only that the author wrote at a time
when long postponement had caused this idea to lie
comparatively dormant, and had brought other ideas
to the front in its stead.
The writer has one special idea of his own, what
we are in the habit of calling the doctrine of the Lo
gos. In a Greek city, on the shores of the Aegean,
one of the great centres of Hellenic culture in those
days, it was natural that he should think of this term

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 139
as specially adapted to commend what he desired to
teach to his hearers and readers. I do not myself
think that he had any great acquaintance with Greek
philosophy, even in its Alexandrian or semi- Jewish
form ; what acquaintance with it he had I suspect was
derived more from intercourse with men than from
books. Just as St. Paul disputed with Stoics and Epi
cureans at Athens, so also St. John may well have held
prolonged debates with disciples of Philo: some of
these may have been converted, and he may have
lived in close intercourse with them. In this way he
may have got the term Logos; but I believe that he
read into it a different content derived from other
sources. He saw that it expressed more comprehen
sively and more significantly than any other word that
aspect of Christ's Incarnation that he most desired to
express ; and he welcomed the fact that it was a rich
and suggestive word with which the philosophy of the
time was familiar. But the writer whom we, as I be
lieve rightly, call St. John, was not in bondage to a
word. He used this, as he used other language, and
as other Apostles before him had used it, to convey
that he personally had found the Way, the Truth, and
the Life, and he desired to make his own experience
available for all mankind.
That is really the meaning of all Christian theology.
The facts come first; the formulae, or groups of for
mulae, which express and partially explain the facts
by correlating them with the whole body of belief,
come afterwards.
If we go back to the ultimate facts of the Life of

140 Cambridge Lectures
Christ, how simple they are, especially in their Synop
tic presentation ! ' Ye have heard that it was said to
them of old time . . . but I say unto you ' ; ' behold,
a greater than Solomon is here ' ; 'if any man come
to Me, and hate not his father and mother . . . yea
and his own life also, he cannot be My disciple ' ; ' ye
have the poor always with you, but Me ye have not
always ' ; ' Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are
heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' If this is self-
assertion — and it is really self-assertion — the phrases
that I have just quoted are such as no earthly poten
tate and no earthly saint could use as Christ used
them — if they imply self-assertion, how modest it is,
how gentle, and yet how firm ! ' Modest ' is perhaps
hardly a word that ought to be used in this connexion.
' Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me, for I am
meek and lowly in heart/ are the words of Christ
Himself. They do not describe the whole of His
human character. That is another point that has been
brought out in recent years — what we might call the
masculine side in the character of our Lord. The
other, beautiful as it is, and true as it also is most em
phatically, is yet almost feminine, and so one-sided.
And the one-sided stress that has been laid upon it
has impressed a certain air of softness, sometimes
approaching effeminacy, on second-rate religious art.
There undoubtedly is another side than this. Our
Lord, it is manifest enough, could be stern and severe.
He could set His face like a flint in carrying out a
high resolve. He could expel buyers and sellers from
the temple ; He could lash scribes and Pharisees with

V. The Deity of Christ in the Gospels 141
scathing words. He could go to His death without
a murmur, with outward calm, though there was deep
trouble — even, at one moment, agony — within. It is
just this that is so wonderful in our Lord — the perfect
balance of what is with us masculine and feminine, so
that the scale inclines neither way. It is no mere com
promise, but a marvellous fusion of opposed types,
each in its perfection.
But what I want to invite you to look at is the
nature of those little indications — for they are really
little indications, strangely delicate and unobtrusive —
scattered over the Gospels, that in spite of the humble
form of His coming He was yet essentially more than
man. Let me ask you to observe how it is all in
keeping. It is in keeping with what I have already
called the period of ' occultation.' Everything about
the Manhood of our Lord is (so to speak) in this sub
dued key.
But this is only for a time. It expresses the sur
face consciousness, not the deeper consciousness; the
deeper consciousness after all is expressed by St.
John's ' I and My Father are one.' It is the uncloud
ed openness of the mind of the Son to the mind of the
Father that was the essence of His being. It is not
only openness to influence, but a profound unshak
able inner sense of harmony, and indeed unity, of
will. This is the fundamental fact that lies behind all our
theologizings. They are but the successive efforts to
put into words, coloured perhaps by the different ages
through which the Church has passed, what St.

142 Cambridge Lectures
Thomas meant by his exclamation, ' My Lord and
my God/
Perhaps, in these modern days, it is well for us to
go back and remind ourselves of these fundamental
facts, so human in their divinity and so divine in their
humanity. It is they which really touch not only our
heads but our hearts and souls.

III. EPILOGUE
VI. THE MOST RECENT LITERATURE
VII. THE MOST RECENT LITERATURE (continued)

VI
THE MOST RECENT LITERATURE
In the course of lectures that I gave two terms
ago I was very conscious of not covering the whole
ground. The title by which the lectures were an
nounced (' The Reconstruction of the Life of Christ ')'
was tentative and provisional, and it might well seem
to promise more than it performed. I was really fol
lowing out a single clue — the one that seemed perhaps
the most important at the time — and I knew that I
was some way from embracing the whole process of
reconstruction. It is indeed very hard to be thoroughly abreast with
inquiry on the wide subject of which I am speaking.
On some parts of it my own reading was rather in
arrears when the lectures were written, and I should
like to try to make good one or two omissions due to
that cause.
But, apart from that, the mere preparation and de
livery of a course of lectures takes some time. It is
now nine months since I began to write the lectures
to which I refer. And it happens that just those nine
months have been even more than usually eventful.
Not only has there been in the meantime an accumu
lation of literature, some of it of a high order, but the
i4S

146 Epilogue
position as a whole has undergone a not inconsider
able amount of change. I should be glad, if I can, to
give some account of this.
And then, lastly, there is the progress — such as it
is — in one's own mind. I confess that it would be a
satisfaction to me to return once more to the subject
of my lectures, and to make another effort to formu
late or express at once with justice and with accuracy
the sum of the impression which the survey that I
have been attempting leaves upon me. It is in such
small ways, by the incessant effort to restate things to
one's self, to correct what is one-sided and to attain
to a really balanced view, that not only the individual
mind but the public mind makes its advances. What
I may contribute will be of course only a drop in the
ocean ; but I do not know that one can have a higher
ambition than to make one's own contribution, how
ever small, as just and as true as one can.
These three things — the wish to repair one or two
omissions, the wish to take account of what has ap
peared in the last few months, and, perhaps most of
all, the wish in part with the help of this recent litera
ture to improve the summing up that I laid before
you — are my reasons for taking up the thread of my
discourse again.
I began my previous course with a very brief and
summary sketch of what had been done in this coun
try, not so much upon the Life of Christ as in prepa
ration for the study of the Life of Christ. I pointed
out how, in contrast to much that had been done or
attempted upon the Continent, the work done here

VI ' The most recent Literature 147
had very largely had this preliminary character. I
noted its caution and deliberate self-restraint. I did
not disguise the fact that to the outside world this
self-restraint might well appear to be a lack of enter
prise. And, looking back now, I can see some ill re
sults from that apparent lack of enterprise. Whole
some as I am sure that it has been for us who are en
gaged upon the work, I can understand that it may
have seemed to come short of the legitimate demands
that might have been made upon us by the nation.
Ideally speaking, the nation and its theologians ought
to move altogether. The theologians ought to carry
the nation with them in each step of their own prog
ress; they ought to warn the nation what is coming,
and they ought to inform the nation as soon as it has
come. It is perhaps true that we theologians have
been rather backward in doing this, and that, as a
consequence, some things have come to the nation in
a more startling form and with a greater degree of
seeming novelty than they really possessed. The fact
has been that we theologians, at least most of us, have
had some leeway to make up of our own; we have
had to learn for ourselves before we could teach ; and
we did not think it right to produce our lesson by in
stalments, before we could see it as a whole. At least
we have really been trying so to produce it; but the
nation should understand that to do this is a difficult
and a delicate and a responsible process, and that
(human nature being what it is) it should not be
surprised if there have been shortcomings in the per
formance.

148 Epilogue
However this may be, what I said about the course
of English theology in the last twenty years may have
done something to explain that it has not really been
idle, but has accomplished more than might be sup
posed, though the work done has been of a kind less
available for general purposes than might perhaps
have been wished.
That was, broadly, the description that I gave of
the last twenty years among the English-speaking
peoples. But in preparing the lectures for the press
— and they are now in print — I introduced a few ex
pressions here and there to bring out the opinion
which I was inclined to form that the period I had
been describing had practically come to an end. I
believe that the year 1906 may be said to mark the
turning down of one page in the history of English
theology and the opening of another. I was led to
this opinion by one or two phenomena, not on a large
scale, which I took to be signs of the times and to
portend more of a change than they actually inau
gurated. I had spoken of the general solidarity of our Eng
lish Universities, i. e., in particular, of the theology
taught in them. The wonder to me really was that
that solidarity should have been maintained so long.
It was not to be expected that it could last much
longer. The indications of approaching change came,
as it happened, less from England than from Scot
land. The most typical book in this respect that I
have read for some time is that of Mr. Ernest F. Scott
on the Purpose and Theology of the Fourth Gospel

VI. The most recent Literature 149
(Edinburgh, 1906). Mr. Scott is a Balliol as well as
a Glasgow man, and we can trace something of Ox
ford as well as of Scotland in his book; but the Oxford
element that we trace in it is not exactly theological.
The nearest parallel that I am aware of was Dr.
James Moffatt's Historical New Testament, published
a few years ago. Mr. Scott is an admirable writer,
and shows especial skill in the handling of ideas; he
has also a seriousness and strength of conviction that
are decidedly attractive. But the most marked thing
about him to my mind is his stand-point, which is
identical with that of the more sober theological liber
alism in Germany. The Germanism is thorough
going — so thorough-going that it is not argued but is
simply taken for granted. Something similar might
be said of Dr. Moffatt, though with slight qualifica
tion. Later still, we have had Dr. Salmon's posthu
mous book, The Human Element in the Gospels (Lon
don, 1907), which is in its way even more significant,
because the change which it marks is not due to any
external influence but to the internal development of
the writer's own mind. In the English Universities
also there are signs of a less conservative and more
adventurous spirit: and I do not doubt that we shall
have more in the future.
This forecast upon which I ventured had nothing to
do with the ' New Theology.' I am not sure whether
at the time when it was made the public discussions
which go by that name had begun. However, now
they are upon us, and upon us in a flood; and, even
though the waters may subside, the face of the land-

150 Epilogue
scape will never quite be what it was again. The cir
cumstances were just of the kind that in this country
makes more impression upon the mass of the public
in a few weeks than the quiet work of retired students
in as many months and even years. This is just the
unfortunate part of it. Publicity with us means so
much publicity. It means rallying cries, and the
forming of party organizations, and propaganda —
very often before it is at all clear what it is sought to
propagate. A movement is forced on, and clamour
arises, and the issues are soon confused in the strife
of tongues.
I am not saying who is to blame for this. Very
often a large share of the blame attaches not so much
to individuals as to public opinion and its organs,
which are too mercurial in their way, and are apt to
aggravate local disturbances of the atmosphere which
they begin simply by recording.
Something of this kind I believe has happened in
the present instance. It would have been a far more
wholesome state of things if the movement which is
rapidly becoming full-fledged as a movement had re
mained some time longer at the stage of quiet indi
vidual study. The misfortune is that it is thrust be
fore the public long before it has been really thought
out. And the point on which it seems to me to need
the greatest amount of further thinking is in regard
to the relation between the old and the new. There
is much in the principle that lies behind the move
ment that may be right enough and true enough in
its proper place and degree. But then it is stated

VI. The most recent Literature 151
with exaggeration, and with a lack of proportion and
of the necessary qualifications which jars against the
Christian conscience.
The strange, thing is that the leaders of the move
ment hardly seem to be aware what they are doing.
For instance, in the paper which opens the April num
ber of the Hibbert Journal, which I suppose may be
taken as a programme of the movement as it stands
at this moment, there is much that is excellent and
with which one can entirely sympathize. Thus we
are told that ' the impression that the New Theology
involves a breach with historic Christianity is utterly
untrue/ Again : ' The adherent of the New Theology
tries to get beneath every venerable statement of
Christian belief, and bring to light the essential truth
implied in it.' No one could be better employed, if
he would but take his task seriously and patiently.
Yet again : ' its emphasis is positive, not negative ; it
is a return to simplicity of statement and to the preach
ing of an ethical Gospel.' By all means let us have
' simplicity of statement ' ; it is a true note of the effort
after reconstruction in which we are almost all in dif
ferent degrees engaged. By all means, too, let us
have ' the preaching of an ethical Gospel/ That also
is a sign of the times, and a good sign — provided that
it does not attempt to drive out everything else. But
then, in the very next breath we are told that ' like
Humanism, it discards every theologoumenon which
has not a practical ethical value.' The mischief lies in
the sweeping negative, which may well set the loyal
Christian on his guard, as he knows how much that

152 Epilogue
is precious to him may easily be included. And in the
same spirit we read just before: 'In applying this
method they must inevitably sweep away many of the
misleading and inadequate statements of belief which
in the popular mind are supposed to be synonymous
with Christian truth.' There, once more, we know
what to expect; and I am afraid that our expectations
are realized to a greater extent than they need be.
The pity of it is that, if I understand the New
Theology rightly, its advocates might have all that
they want — or at least all that they ought to want,
which is not perhaps quite the same thing — without
any real disturbance of the greater landmarks of
Christianity. There is a smaller movement at work,
which, just because it hardly amounts to a movement
but is rather a diffused intellectual influence, I must
needs think happier in its conditions, that seems to
me to be pursuing similar ends in an altogether more
hopeful way and well within the bounds of historical
Christianity. I refer to the influence exercised by
the writings of Dr. Moberly in this country and Dr.
Du Bose in America. And along with these may be
named the works of Mr. Illingworth and Dr. Inge.
I would earnestly commend the study of these writ
ings to all who are drawn towards the New Theology.
As some account will be given of a portion of this
literature at the end of the present volume, I need
not say more about it now.
It is true that there is a quest after what may not
wrongly be called a New Theology on foot over a
great part of Christendom, conducted by different

VI. The most recent Literature 153
methods and by men of different temperaments and
different tongues. And I am inclined to think that
this movement is not badly described when it is said
that ' The New Theology is an untrammelled return
to the Christian sources in the light of modern
thought. Its starting-point is a re-emphasis of the
Christian belief in the Divine immanence in the uni
verse and in mankind/ x The first of these sentences
is more widely true than the second. If we give some
latitude to the word ' untrammelled/ I should say that
to speak of the New Theology as ' an untrammelled
return to the Christian sources ' — certainly to speak
of it as 'a return ' to the sources — ' in the light of
modern thought ' would describe all forms of the effort
everywhere. And the second sentence, which speaks
of ' a re-emphasis of the Christian belief in the Di
vine immanence in the universe and in mankind/
would also describe a considerable section of it, es
pecially in this country and in America ; and we might
add perhaps the movement associated with Auguste
Sabatier in France. I doubt if there would be so
much stress on ' the Divine immanence ' in Germany.
In Germany the main impulse came from Ritschl, and
we have to remember that Ritschl — and the same
thing would be true of his followers — was strongly
opposed to everything of the nature of Mysticism.
His theology might well be described as having for its
object 'the preaching of an ethical gospel'; but it
would not do this in terms of Divine immanence. I
do not think that that doctrine is prominent in the
1 The New Theology, p. 4.

154 Epilogue
teaching of the school that holds the field there just
at present.
While it is true that the effort after theological re
statement is widespread, including as I believe many
who are anxious to maintain a full continuity with the
Christian faith in its historical expression, I should
like to put in a word of warning against the idea that
this effort has yet attained to anything like a com
pletely satisfactory formulation. The task is one that
it must be quite obvious cannot be carried out in a day.
It is really an immense task, and one that may well
strain all our mental energies for years to come. And
nothing but harm will come from raising our paeans
too soon. Let us maintain the modest attitude of seek
ers, and in particular not be in a hurry to sally forth
into the streets to teach until we have learnt our own
lesson, and made sure that we have learnt it well.
I must make a rather abrupt transition to an alto
gether different field from that with which I have so
far been dealing. One of the chief events of the last
nine months has been the appearance during their
course of two parts of Harnack' s new publication
which he calls Beitrdge zur Einleitung in das N. T.
('Contributions to N. T. Introduction'). Any one
else might be proud to have produced one such vol
ume in the time, for they both bristle with critically
sifted detail, but Harnack can only be compared with
himself ; we can put no limits to his power of produc
tion. Quite recently two of Germany's foremost scholars

VI. The most recent Literature 155
have come to grapple at close quarters with the prob
lems of the Gospels, Wellhausen and Harnack. Well
hausen really came first, and he ought to have filled
a larger place in my earlier lectures; but I am glad
to be able to speak of him along with one as great
as himself.
All study of the Gospels must really be founded
upon close literary analysis. But for some time past
Germany had not done anything very special in this
way — not more than has been done in this country.
A useful survey of the Synoptic Question by P.
Wernle had been published in 1899. Jiilicher had
treated the subject with conscientious thoroughness in
the successive editions of his Introduction. Bernhard
and Johannes Weiss, father and son, had continued
their labours upon it; and some lesser excursions had
been made into it by von Soden, Soltau, Zimmermann
and others. But it was distinctly an event that two
such scholars as those I have named should enter the
arena. Wellhausen began with a concise commentary on
St. Mark in 1903; a similar treatment of St. Matthew
and St. Luke (omitting the first two chapters of each
Gospel) followed in 1904; and the series was com
pleted by an Introduction to the First Three Gospels
in 1905. The design and form of the series showed
characteristic independence. No attempt was made to
produce a complete commentary ; it was but rarely that
reference was made to other views than the author's
own; he just annotated the points that struck him in
the fewest possible words, and left the rest alone.

156 Epilogue
The Introduction, if rather more systematic, was
equally concise. But it was all a direct first-hand
study of the text; and this, coming from a scholar of
so much experience and so steeped in knowledge of
the history, languages and modes of thought of the
East, could not but be of importance.
Wellhausen's most eminent speciality had to do
with the language; and it is interesting to know that
for both the leading documents that lie behind our
present Gospels, the Mark-gospel and the collection of
discourses or Q, he believes in an Aramaic original.
It may be said generally that German writers, whether
or not they contend for Aramaic originals, are coming
to see that the great mass of the Gospel tradition is
really redolent of the soil of Palestine, and that this
is a great guarantee of its substantial accuracy. It is
also interesting and also important that Wellhausen
and Harnack, without any connexion with each other,
as well as all the other writers I have mentioned, agree
in postulating these two documents as at the base of
the Synoptic tradition. So far as consent can prove
anything — and it is to be remembered that in this case
the consent is of scholars of the highest competence
who have all worked directly and closely upon the
facts — we may really, I begin to think, take the sec
ond document as well as the first as practically as
sured. Our English workers would, I believe, with
almost the same unanimity agree in this conclusion.
Dr. Salmon comes nearer than most of us to the spe
cial form of the theory adopted by Bernhard Weiss,
but he also has the two documents. It should be said,

VI The most recent Literature 157
however, that Wellhausen does not take the further
step (that e. g. Dr. Salmon takes) of identifying the
two fundamental documents with the works by Mat
thew the Apostle and Mark the companion of St.
Peter spoken of by Papias and his informant John the
Presbyter. After his manner, he abstains from pro
nouncing upon this point either way. Harnack re
gards the identification as on the whole probable, but
he will not say more.
Wellhausen thinks that there is some later matter
as well as earlier in the second Gospel ; but he will not
specify this too precisely. In the main he may be said
to constitute himself the champion of the Mark-gos
pel. As between this and the other document that we
are now calling Q, he nearly always takes its side, in
a way that almost amounts to partiality. Harnack re
dresses the balance by what is at least a steady de
fence of Q, to which he has devoted a special study.
On the vexed question, on which there is so much
division of opinion amongst scholars, as to the prece
dence in authority between St. Matthew and St. Luke,
Wellhausen is one of those who in the main would
give his suffrage for St. Matthew.
In the third part of his Introduction, which deals
with the Gospels as history, Wellhausen makes many
remarks in his terse and pointed style that well de
serve attention. And yet his habit of mind is dis
tinctly sceptical — I do not use the word in an invidi
ous sense ; Dr. Du Bose has lately told us, and I agree
with him, that scepticism too has its place in the ways
of Providence. By scepticism I mean the tendency to

158 Epilogue
question one's data; and I think that Wellhausen is
unduly disposed to question his. He is also apt to set
down a good deal more than I should think right to
the ' early Christian community.' And he sometimes
leaves a certain ambiguity as to whether the alterna
tive that he prefers represents an early form of legend
or actual historical fact.
Wellhausen draws a useful distinction — which we
have of course all drawn in a way, though we have
not perhaps always applied it quite so clearly and
directly as we should have done to the Gospel history
— between the Jewish and the Christian Messiah. It
was as the Jewish Messiah that our Lord was con
fessed by St. Peter. There is no reason to doubt this
confession or to suppose that it has been placed too
early. It was as the Jewish Messiah that Jesus was
condemned, and that Pilate wrote ' the King of the
Jews ' ; and it was in the same character that He re
ceived the mock homage of the soldiers. The jubilant
crowd which accompanied the entry into Jerusalem
gave their welcome to one whom they believed to be
on the point of restoring the kingdom of David.
What was the feeling of Jesus Himself all this time,
Wellhausen thinks is not so clear. In any case He did
not go about, like the false Christs, saying ' I am he/
Jesus accepted homage when it was offered to Him;
and He skilfully baffled attempts to extract from Him
a definite declaration. The political side of the patri
otic movement He steadily repudiated. The yoke that
He felt was not that of the foreign domination but of
the hierarchy and the scribes, with their deadening

VI The most recent Literature 159
traditions. He desired to bring about a new birth of
the nation — and that not merely by the rescuing of a
few individuals, because if that alone had been His
object He need not have gone up to Jerusalem.
All this Wellhausen rightly sees ; and yet, when he
speaks of the Christian Messiah, he means not so
much Jesus' own conception of His Messiahship as
that transfigured conception which the nascent Church
threw back upon His lifetime after His death. Well
hausen does not now dispute the use of the title ' Son
of Man/ He takes it simply in the sense of ' Man/
and makes it point back to ' the Man ' — i. e. the hu
man figure as opposed to the four beasts — in the vis
ion of Dan. vii. 13. On this point scholars are now
practically agreed. As I understand Wellhausen, he
thinks that the use of the name, along with the expec
tation of the (Second) Coming, belongs to the very
beginnings of the Christian Church. According to
Wellhausen, the first step is belief in the coming of
the Kingdom ; then in the coming of the personal Son
of Man; and lastly, the identification with our Lord.
Not even so much, it seems to me, can be interposed
between the Crucifixion and 1 Thessalonians. I have
really no doubt that all three steps were run through
in the lifetime of our Lord, though they were of course
confirmed by His Death and Resurrection.1
Wellhausen lays great stress upon the activity of
our Lord as a teacher. In direct antithesis to Schweit
zer, he describes the Galilaean ministry as consisting
1 The most important places for Wellhausen's view are Mc. pp. 66-9,
Einl. pp. 96-8.

160 Epilogue
not in announcement but in teaching {Einl. p. 106).
The main subject of the teaching is ' the ways of God '
(p. 94). The idea of the kingdom of God (more
strictly, ' rule or reign ' of God) is taken over from
the later Judaism, where it was in contrast not so
much to the rule or reign of Satan as to the domina
tion of the heathen oppressors, a state of things to
which the Jewish people had become accustomed from
the Captivity onwards (p. 100). It is not quite clear
how far the idea of a present kingdom is ascribed to
St. Matthew, and how far to our Lord Himself. It
is treated as characteristic of the First Gospel, and
Wellhausen himself seems to lean towards this con
ception, though he also speaks of it as a step towards
the comparative suppression of eschatology in the
Fourth Gospel. It is noticeable that in this context
(p. 105) he differs from many of his countrymen by
adopting the rendering, ' the kingdom of God is within
you' rather than 'among you' in Luke xvii. 21.
It seems to me, if I am not mistaken, that Wellhau
sen's scepticism, especially as to the predictions of the
Passion and (Second) Coming, involves him in some
inconsistency. At least, he speaks with rather bitter
irony of those ' advanced theologians ' who take the
view that predictions of the Parusia were suppressed
because as a matter of fact they were not fulfilled (p.
98). And yet he himself is inclined to minimize the
eschatological element, especially in our Lord Him
self. He says expressly, 'The eschatological hope
acquired its intensity first through the oldest Chris
tians, who attached it to the Person of Jesus ' (p.

VI. The most recent Literature 161
107)1. It is also maintained that the attitude and be
haviour {Lebenswandel) of Christ ' had not such an
eschatological cast as that of His disciples who re
nounced the world in order to prepare themselves for
His Advent/ The idea is also rejected with some
show of indignation that there was anything in His
moral teaching at all of the nature of a merely pro
visional asceticism which was only to be endured for
a time in expectation of the near approach of the end
— which I suppose is meant for Schweitzer and his
Interimsethik. I have touched chiefly upon points that I think are
most likely to help us in shaping our own conclusions.
Wellhausen does, I believe, supply a wholesome cor
rective against any tendency to make too much of
eschatology. He seems to me, as I have said, to be
too sceptical as to his data to be able to construct
a really satisfying picture. And he himself, I cannot
help suspecting, has some inkling of this. His book
ends with an impressive paragraph in which he dep
recates the cry for a return ' to the historical Jesus/
The Jesus of history, he says, is wrapt in too much
uncertainty, and the cry is apt to mean no more than
the old Rationalism come up again. Jesus cannot be
understood apart from the effect of His coming, and
if He is separated from this, justice will not be done
to Him (p. 115). Without the Gospel and without
St. Paul the Judaism that He retained would still have
clung to Him, though He had really outgrown it.
The two closing sentences are striking. ' If it had nof
been for His death, Jesus would never have become

162 Epilogue
a subject for history. The impression of His career
depends upon the fact that it did not run to its con
clusion, but was broken off short, when it had hardly
begun/ Of still more importance, especially for us in Eng
land, is the appearance of Harnack on the field of
Gospel criticism. Apart from his astonishing rapidity,
range, and power of production, apart from his ex
treme keenness of insight, brilliance of combination,
and fertility of ideas, there is something about Har-
nack's writings that attracts us more than those of
almost any of his countrymen. It is an instance of
the way in which individual genius soars above na
tional peculiarities. Harnack has not only all the
German virtues in the highest degree, but he has
others that are less distinctly German — a width and
generosity of outlook, a freedom from pedantry, a
sympathy and understanding for human weakness,
that are all his own.
Of course Harnack has always been a critic ; behind
all his work there lie critical processes ; we were well
aware that even his incidental references to the Gos
pels were not made at random. And yet it was an
event when he came to deal with the criticism of the
Gospels more directly and at closer quarters than ever
before. And the interest for us in England was in
creased by the fact that the first subject on which he
was led to pronounce was one on which English
scholarship almost in a body was ranged on one side,
and German scholarship almost in a body on the

VI. The most recent Literature 163
other, and that in this debate Harnack cast his vote
into our side of the scale.
It was the old question as to the so-called ' We-
passages ' which occur in some five chapters of the
Acts (xvi, xx, xxi, xxvii, xxviii). German scholars
generally hold that these passages represent a sort of
diary or notebook by a companion of St. Paul, worked
up in the narrative of the Acts by a later editor.
Englishmen, very nearly with one consent,1 hold that,
whether or not there was anything of the nature of
a written diary, in any case the author of it and the
final editor of the whole book are the same person,
and that no other than the traditional author St. Luke.
In adopting this view, Harnack based it upon three
main grounds, each of them examined with the great
est thoroughness: (1) the consistent unity of style
throughout the whole book; (2) the unity of ideas
and other characteristics than style between these
passages and the rest of the book; (3) the particular
evidence that the author of the book was distin
guished, as we know St. Luke was, by medical knowl
edge and training.
Naturally to me the argument seemed very deci
sive ; but it was soon challenged by a near colleague of
the author. Harnack and Schiirer are joint editors
of that admirable fortnightly review the Theologische
Liter aturzeitung, and in this Harnack often gives a
1 Among those who have dealt with the Acts directly and in detail,
either as commentators or as authors of articles and monographs, the con
sensus includes Lightfoot, Salmon, Hobart, Ramsay, Chase, Knowling,
Headlam, Bebb, Rackham, Hawkins, Moffatt,

164 Epilogue
sketch in outline of the contents of his own books. He
did so on this occasion of his book Lukas der Arzt
(Leipzig, 1906) in the number for July 7 of last year;
but his fellow editor thought the matter so important
that he must needs append a note, three times the
length of the original article, controverting its con
clusions. The criticism also turned round three main
points: (1) the insufficiency of the argument from
style; (2) the objections from the side of the Higher
Criticism to the view that the book could possibly be
by a companion of St. Paul and an eye-witness of
some of the events recorded in it; (3) indications in
the shape of abruptness of transition and omissions
that the writer of the book was following a document
which he used somewhat clumsily. Harnack replied
a month later, not giving way on any of his points ;
and there the controversy stood for the time. There
we also will leave it for the moment, but we shall soon
have to come back to it again.
The main question of Harnack's monograph had
to do with the Acts rather than the Third Gospel, but
incidentally a good deal of light was thrown also
upon the Gospel. Perhaps the most interesting point
had reference to the authorship of the special matter
characteristic of St. Luke and not found in either of
his other two leading authorities, the Gospel of St.
Mark and the non-Marcan document Q. Harnack
suggested that this peculiar matter, of which he gave
a rather depreciating account, might well have been
derived from Philip the Evangelist and his four
daughters, who appear to have been settled at Cae-

VI. The most recent Literature 165
sarea (Acts xxi. 8, 9), where St. Paul was detained
for two years, with St. Luke as it would seem in his
company. Early in the present year Harnack came
back to the Gospels with another welcome monograph,
Spruche und Reden Jesu ('Sayings and Discourses
of Jesus '), which is further explained as a name for
the 'Second Source' of St. Matthew and St. Luke.
It was another great advantage to have so central a
question dealt with by a first-rate scholar like Har
nack, and it was discussed by him with characteristic
freshness, precision, and thoroughness. I have al
ready said that Harnack defends this second docu
ment against the criticisms of Wellhausen, and vin
dicates for it a high value.
I ought perhaps in passing to express my own dis
sent from the conclusion at which Harnack arrives
about the first two chapters of St. Luke's Gospel. He
regards these chapters as the composition of St. Luke
himself, based indeed upon a special tradition, but
owing their form entirely to the evangelist. The ar
gument that he uses is solely that of style. But this
is just, I cannot but think, an instance of the limi
tations of that argument. I believe myself that the
phenomena of the style can be otherwise explained.
St. Luke always impresses his own signature upon his
documents, and no doubt he has done so here. But
when we come to look at the subject-matter of the
chapters, we at once see a number of features in them
which cannot possibly have originated with St. Luke.
These features fall under two heads. They are ( 1 ) a
number of minute allusions to Jewish law and Jewish

166 Epilogue
ceremonial which are quite different from St. Luke's
manner. We know, for instance, how he avoids and
omits the passage about Pharisaic customs in St. Mark
vii. And the other point (2) is the extraordinary
extent to which these chapters hit the attitude of ex
pectancy which existed before the public appearance
of Christ. It is not only expectation, and tense ex
pectation, but expectation that is essentially Jewish in
its character. This is perhaps most marked in the
Benedictus, which one might read through and hardly
realize that it was in any sense a Christian produc
tion. The same thing is true in the main of the other
Canticles; but it stands out even more conspicuously
in the whole picture of Zacharias and Elisabeth, of
Simeon and Anna, and in many incidental expres
sions, like ' walking in all the commandments and or
dinances of the Lord blameless/ ' this man was right
eous and devout, looking for the consolation of Israel/
' she spake of him to all them that were looking for
the redemption of Jerusalem' (i. 6; ii. 25, 38).
I have ventured to maintain, in a paper that is being
printed in America, that these two chapters — what
ever the date at which they were first committed to
writing — are essentially the most archaic thing in the
whole New Testament, older really in substance —
whatever may be the date of their actual committal to
writing — than 1 and 2 Thessalonians.
The work both of Wellhausen and Harnack was
work upon the foundations — ' underground work ' as
it has been called — and specially welcome on that ac
count, because (as the Gospel has taught us) there

VI The most recent Literature 167
is all the difference in the world between building a
house upon the rock (i. e. upon solid and critically
tested materials) and upon the sands of shifting
theory and conjecture. But there is not less of living
interest in work upon the superstructure. And for
the particular task that I have been essaying, there
was special importance in the appearance, at the end
of last year, of a substantial pamphlet by Jiilicher,
which was also an attempt to survey the situation in
the light of recent literature. The pamphlet was en
titled Neue Linien in der Kritik der evangelischen
Uberlieferung, ' New Lines in the Criticism of the
Gospel Tradition' (Giessen, 1906). Jiilicher's is a
highly trained and a practised hand ; and his task was
in the main excellently done. He and his countrymen
have carried to a high pitch of perfection the art of
objectively reproducing the contents of books that
they criticize. They read the books so carefully and
so thoroughly, and with such a constant eye to their
general drift and to the ideas which they represent,
that they are able to pack into a comparatively small
space a surprising amount of definite information.
And so in Jiilicher's pamphlet there is a great deal of
admirable statement, at once full and condensed and
in the main objective. I can only say ' in the main
objective/ because the treatment is not always equally
just. There are two examples of what I cannot but
think rather conspicuous injustice. Jiilicher is essen
tially an honest writer ; it is one of his country's vir
tues that its Universities have a high standard of in
tellectual honesty. But Jiilicher is at the same time

168 Epilogue
a party man; and the spirit of party, which he has
made his own, does sometimes carry him away.
I imagine that one of the motives, perhaps the first
motive, which prompted him to take up the pen, was
the sharp attack delivered by Schweitzer, of whom I
had much to say in my previous lectures, against the
head quarters of theological Liberalism. Schweitzer
is a young writer, and a writer with qualities that, to
one not personally concerned, appeal rather for gen
erosity of treatment. But Jiilicher is evidently stung;
and he sits down with the no less evident intention of
demolishing his opponent. He has one sentence,
which it is easy to glide over, of qualified praise as of
one whom he describes as ' the best-read and most
undaunted critic ' of the subject on which he writes ;
he might have added a good deal more as to his
merits as a writer, and as to the sharpness with which
he states the problem. But, instead of doing this, he
marshals what is no doubt a rather formidable array
of the ingenious but untenable individualisms for
which Schweitzer has made himself responsible. I
said expressly that I did not approve of these; but
I did not, and I do not, think it fair to rake together
these and nothing else as samples of the worth of
Schweitzer's work. I believe that I conveyed a dif^
ferent impression; and, though I am well aware that
my own presentation of the case might have been im
proved upon, still I must needs think that the impres
sion that I sought to give is the truer of the two.
The other person who has had grave injustice done
to him is the evangelist St. Luke. Harnack's Ian-

VI. The most recent Literature 169
guage about him is at times — only at times — cavalier
enough; especially where he is speaking of that part
of the Gospel or Acts which he supposes to be based
upon the authority of Philip and his daughters. The
name ' prophet ' used to be a title of honour ; but now
' prophet ' is equivalent to Ekstatiker, one who is liable
to trance or ecstasy; and that is only a symbol for
boundless credulity. That is one of the features in
recent criticism that I strongly deprecate. It is fair
to say that Jiilicher remembers that St. Luke derived
from his special source such parables as the Good
Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, and the Pharisee and
the Publican, and he mildly remonstrates. But when
it becomes a question of St. Luke as an historian, he
leaves Harnack far behind. The upshot of Harnack's
argument had been to prove that St. Luke had been
really an eye-witness of a certain number of the events
that he related. The critic is careful to add that he
does not on that account regard him as by any means
wholly trustworthy. And so far I agree that, because
a narrative proceeds from an eye-witness, it cannot
necessarily be transplanted to our own day and ac
cepted at once just as it stands. But Jiilicher goes
beyond Harnack. His comment upon Harnack's ar
gument might be tersely summed up : 'If St. Luke
was really an eye-witness, so much the worse for the
eye-witness.' He goes on to point the finger of scorn
at the writer who knows the name of the maid who
went to the door of the house of Mary the mother of
Mark on the release of St. Peter from prison (Acts
xii. 13), and who also tells the story of the healings

170 Epilogue
wrought by the application of handkerchiefs at Eph-
esus (xix. 11, 12). In neither case have we any
reason to think that St. Luke himself was present;
but it seems to me — I speak only for myself — that
the writer who combines two such things in the same
breath gives us the measure of his own tact and deli
cacy of historical judgement. I fully believe myself
that the mention of the name Rhoda is an excellent
touch, that the whole scene is singularly lifelike, and
that its credibility is not really destroyed by the in
troduction of the angel just before. This is a rather
long story upon which I cannot enter only in passing.
I am prepared to contend that in the whole of chapter
xii St. Luke is really following a good authority. I
am not prepared to say the same thing about the ex
aggerated bit of hearsay as to the miracles at Ephesus.
This, however, is a comparatively small charge. Jiili
cher goes on, in a most contemptuous tone (pp. 59,
60), to compare the picture of St. Paul as it i-s drawn
in the Acts with that which we should infer from the
Pauline Epistles — as though the object of the his
torian was to compose a modern biography with a
psychological analysis of character and motive, and
then to assign the theology of the apostle to its place
in the development of Christian thought after the
manner of a German professor. Of course we know
very well that his real object was nothing of the kind,
but rather to write a plain objective narrative of the
spread of the Gospel from Jerusalem to Rome.
I am really very sorry to be brought into collision
with Jiilicher, which has happened to me several times

VI. The most recent Literature 171
before. I have a sincere respect, and even admira
tion, for perhaps five-sixths of his work, including par
ticularly — I should like to say in passing — his reviews
of the literature of Patristics, in which he has been at
once just and generous to some of my friends here
in Oxford. I repeat that the pamphlet from which I
started is not only good but in many ways very good.
One may go on for wide stretches in his books and
find only occasion to admire. And yet every now and
then one is pulled up sharp by passages like those
of which I have been speaking, which I confess move
me to indignation, so narrow are they, and so hard,
so deficient in sympathy and in intelligence for the
difference between one age and another.
I am afraid there is too much of this in the school
to which Jiilicher belongs. The writer who is freest
from these faults, who indeed outsoars altogether the
region in which they are apt to occur, is undoubtedly
Harnack. And yet, even in Harnack, there is a thin
vein which comes up occasionally of the same thing.
To my regret, I find myself saying under my breath
once and again Kal Tlpo/cXeij? Aepto?.
We remember Porson's paraphrase, which it would
not be quite fitting to repeat.
It is interesting that Harnack's two books should
be reviewed — and searchingly reviewed — by so typic
ally British a scholar as Sir W. M. Ramsay (in The
Expositor for December, 1906, and May, 1907).
These articles contain many important and excellent
remarks, among which I welcome especially what is

172 Epilogue
said at the end of the later number on the subject of
' legend.' This is a more emphatic and trenchant way
of putting the point of which I have just been speak
ing. It is no doubt well that we should be warned
not to press the argument from style too far; but I
am inclined to think that Sir William Ramsay slightly
overstates his case here. The remarks that I have
just been making about St. Luke i, ii will show that
I would myself apply the argument with caution : but
I think it is impossible to follow the work that has
been done upon the Synoptic Problem and in the Old
Testament upon the Hexateuch without feeling that
it rests upon a secure and solid basis. There is one
rather startling obiter dictum in the last article: viz.
that ' the lost common Source of Luke and Matthew
(i. e. Q) . . . was written while Christ was still liv
ing. It gives us the view which one of His disciples
entertained of Him and His teaching during His life
time, and may be regarded as authoritative for the
view of the disciples generally ' (p. 424). I am afraid
this is rather too optimistic. I do not doubt myself
that Q was written some time before 70 A. d. The
more exact date will depend upon the relation in which
it stands to St. Mark and to St. Paul. Under both
these heads there is much to be said on both sides.
Curiously enough, Dr. Salmon uses almost the same
expression as Sir W. M. Ramsay: —
The more I study the Gospels the more convinced
I am that we have in them contemporaneous history;
that is to say, that we have in them the stories told
of Jesus immediately after His death, and which had

VI The most recent Literature 173
been circulated, and, as I am disposed to believe, put
in writing while He was yet alive.1
Clearly this refers to Q, and not to the Mark-gospel,
which Dr. Salmon follows the Christian tradition in
dating about the time of the death of St. Peter at
Rome. There is another rather striking coincidence in Dr.
Salmon's book. The theory that he tentatively pro
pounds for the solution of the Synoptic Problem re
sembles closely that of Dr. Bernhard Weiss. Hither
to Dr. Weiss has not had many followers: the most
important is Prof. A. Titius, of Kiel (in the volume
of Essays in honour of Weiss, published ten years
ago). A Seminar, which I have had the honour of
holding, went into the arguments used with some
care, and was not convinced by them. But now Dr.
Salmon appears to have worked independently to
much the same result. The fact should be allowed its
due weight. The main difference between this theory
and that which is more generally current is that ac
cording to it the second document would consist al
most as much of narrative as of discourse, and could
not be described as non-Marcan, because St. Mark is
supposed to have used it as well as St. Matthew and
St. Luke.2
Another modified form of the current theory finds
expression in Mr. W. C. Allen's Commentary on St.
Matthew, that has recently appeared in the series
1 The Human Element in the Gospels, p. 274.
2 A review of Dr. Salmon's book by the present writer will be found
in The Guardian for July 17, 1907.

174 Epilogue
of International Commentaries. This is marked at
once by independence and caution, and is a good
example of detailed critical work.
Only in the last few weeks a monograph has reached
me by the veteran Dr. Bernhard Weiss himself on the
Sources of the Gospel of St. Luke {Die Quellen des
Lukasevangeliums : Stuttgart and Berlin, 1907). The
views expressed in this are already pretty well known :
they are most interesting where they relate to the
peculiar matter of the Gospel. In regard to this I am
more inclined to agree with Dr. B. Weiss than with
his colleague Prof. Harnack.
My second lecture will deal, not with the literary
criticism, but with the historical and doctrinal crit
icism of the Gospels.

VII
THE MOST RECENT LITERATURE {continued)
The real significance of Schweitzer, about whom I
had so much to say in my earlier course of lectures, is
in the evidence which he affords of the dissatisfaction
that is coming to be felt in Germany with the liberal
school of criticism that has been dominant for so long.
Another indication of the same thing may be seen in
a tendency which, while it has been at work some way
further back, may be said to have come forward since
the year 1905, as a definite movement with a definite
name. The Germans describe it by one of their com
pound adjectives; they call it the Modern-Positive
Movement in Theology. In other words, it is a more
affirmative form of Liberalism, Liberalism of the
Right, or conservative Liberalism. There are really
two branches of this movement; and the manifesto
put forward by one of them in the year 1905 was a
pamphlet with the title, Modern Theology of the An
cient Faith, by Dr. Theodor Kaftan, General-superin
tendent — a sort of Lutheran bishop — of Schleswig.
Dr. Theodor Kaftan is the brother of Dr. Julius Kaf
tan, Professor in the University of Berlin, who is
probably better known in this country as a writer. I
have nowhere seen Dr. Julius Kaftan's name directly
J7S

176 Epilogue
associated with the movement; but he must be in
rather close sympathy with it; indeed a little tract of
his, Jesus und Paulus, which came out in the autumn
of last year, I believe to be quite the best product of
the movement that has so far appeared. The two
Kaftans might be described as both belonging to the
right wing of the Ritschlians ; and the points on which
we might be most inclined to think them defective
are part of the inheritance from Ritschl. Dr. Theo
dor Kaftan writes with great earnestness and weight
of character ; I am very much with him in his general
aims and objects ; and yet I find myself less in agree
ment with him than I should have hoped in detail.
At the head of the other branch of the movement
is Prof. Reinhold Seeberg, also of the University of
Berlin. The movement might be said to start from a
course of lectures delivered by him at Berlin, to stu
dents from all the faculties, in the winter of 1901-2,
and published under the title Die Grundwahrheiten
der christlichen Religion (Leipzig, 1902). These lec
tures were apparently on the model of Harnack's
famous course (E. T., What is Christianity?) deliv
ered two years before. Seeberg's lectures do not
quite come up to the level of these. They have the
merits of frank, genial, and at times eloquent expres
sion; but they are rather wanting in precision and
faulty in construction; it would be wrong to expect
too much from extempore addresses, given not only
without MS. but even without notes, and not intended
for publication. Since the lectures Seeberg has
brought out an older work, recast and with a new

VII. The most recent Literature 177
title, Die Kirche Deutschlands im neunzehnten Jahr
hundert (2nd ed., Leipzig, 1904), a brightly written
history of German Protestantism in the last century,
which contributes to the same end. Seeberg ap
parently has two younger lieutenants, Richard H.
Griitzmacher, Professor at Rostock {Modern-positive
Vortrage: Leipzig, 1906), and Karl Beth, now Pro
fessor at Vienna {Die Moderne und die Prinzipien
der Theologie: Berlin, 1907). There are also now
two complete series of ' Tracts for the Times ' {Bib-
lische Zeit- und Streitfragen) , which I cannot claim
to have studied, but which seem likely to be useful.
A large part of the interest of the movement con
sists in the discussions to which it has given rise.
From the liberal side there was, first, an appreciative
and pleasing review of Seeberg's Kirche Deutsch
lands by Max Christlieb in Protestantische Monats-
hefte, 1904, pp. 414 ff., 470 ff. ; then, a criticism of
Th. Kaftan by Herrmann in Zeitschrift f. Theol. u.
Kirche, 1906, pp. 175-233; and, lastly, a series of
articles covering the whole movement by Bousset in
Theol. Rundschau, 1906, pp. 287-302, 327-40, 371-
81, 413-24; 1907, PP- I~l8-
Christlieb sums up his verdict upon Seeberg's book
by laying stress on what, as we might expect, he
considers its strength and its weakness. Its strength
consists in the insight that it shows into ' the relativity
of all scientific inquiry'; in other words, its frank
recognition of the fact that Christian truth has to be
restated from age to age. Its weakness, on the other
hand, is on the ' positive ' side, inasmuch as the course

178 Epilogue
that it has to go, its ' marching route/ is too much
determined for it beforehand.
I should like, if I may, to say a few words about this
characterization, because it seems to me to put the
whole question in a nutshell, and because in regard
to it I am entirely at one with Seeberg. I should like,
if I may, to say exactly what amount of truth I can
recognize in the criticism. I agree that Christian
doctrine has to be restated from age to age; that is,
that it should be offered to each generation as it
comes in the language that it can best understand.
But that does not mean that the Creeds are to be
rewritten for the benefit of every new generation.
Neither does it mean that the rewriting is to be en
tirely without relation to the Creed; nor yet that it
is to be simply what we might call a bald verbatim
translation of them (if that were possible) into mod
ern language: a certain allowance has to be made
under the head mutatis mutandis. But the proposi
tion does, I think, mean that, in the effort after re
statement, we should especially at first have an eye
to the Creeds; and we should have a better hope of
our own success if our experiment seemed to be work
ing out on the lines of what might be called a ' corre
spondence of values.' I do not say that this should
be the last word, but I believe that it would be well
for us if it were at least the first and the middle word
in the attempt to carry out our task. We should aim
at keeping up the continuity of Christendom. It is
rather like the case of the ideas which a dutiful son
inherits from his father. He will start from them,

VII. The most recent Literature 179
and try all he can to make them his own, but he will
not be bound by them in the sense that his ultimate
statement, at the end of all his trying, will not deviate
from them to the right hand or to the left. In the
last resort, we must do our own thinking, if it is to
be sincere.
In like manner as to the ' marching route/ We all
have our marching route prescribed for us to a cer
tain extent ex parte ante, if not ex parte post. We all
set out from the same camp; and it is something — a
substantial something — to remember that this camp
is behind us. But, apart from that, although it is
right that our marching route should leave us a cer
tain amount of latitude, we don't want to be always
going off at a tangent; we don't want our course to
be a perpetual zigzag. Liberty should not become
licence. I have only tried to define what I think in general
terms; there will be particular considerations in par
ticular cases. But what I have said may perhaps suf
fice for general guidance, so far as I can give it.
On the more special question, much as I naturally
sympathize with the Positive theologians, I am afraid
that I cannot say that either their lines of argument
or their catchwords seem to me to be happily
chosen. The two main counts in the indictment against
Liberalism (i. e. the modern Liberalism, as repre
sented by such names as Wernle, Bousset, Weinel) ,-
are: (i) that it makes our Lord Jesus Christ too j
much the subject of faith rather than the object; and

180 Epilogue
(ii) that Christianity is too much in danger of being
lost in the general history of religion.
The use of ' subject ' and ' object ' in that kind of
connexion is at best clumsy. Some years ago the
view was put forward by Haussleiter that 'fy™
in the phrase *-«"¦« 'L70-0C was a subjective genitive,
meaning ' the faith (i. e. in God) which Jesus held,
which was the foundation of His character.' Bousset
dismisses this as not worth considering; and I have
little doubt that he is right ; the phrase means ' faith
in Jesus, the faith which has Jesus for its object/ We
shall I think best understand what is meant by mak
ing Christ the subject of faith by the help of a phrase
of Seeberg's which is eagerly caught at by Bousset as
offering some chance of an understanding.1 Seeberg
says, ' Jesus was the first Christian, and He was the
only believer in the full sense of the word.' We re
member by the way that Wellhausen,2 with a differ
ent intention, says 'Jesus was not a Christian but a
Jew.' We can see what he means; in the mouth of
Bousset, Jesus as the ' first Christian ' means that He
was the first to teach and cherish the full Christian
ideal, to set the example of a Christian life. We be
lieve, and Seeberg believes, that more is involved
than this. Almost in the same breath Bousset him
self confesses that that was not St. Paul's view of the
matter. He did not think of Christ as representing
just a new type of piety.
The other count is that Christianity is treated, or
is in danger of being treated, as only one phenomenon
'Theol. Rundschau, 1906, p. 417. 1Einl. p. 113.

VII. The most recent Literature 181
by the side of others in the general history of religion.
On this head, if I understand aright, the objection
seems to me to go too far. Kaftan appears to speak
with hesitation about the Old Testament, and about
the relation of Christianity to other religions gener
ally. He widens the gap between them as much as
possible, and insists upon the isolation of Christianity.
In this I cannot go with him. I believe that we have
no reason to hesitate about the Old Testament. Hesi
tation comes from looking too much at what Old Tes
tament religion rose from and too little at what it
rose to. And, perverted as other religions may be in
greater or less degree through the presence of evil
which affects everything human, I have yet no doubt
that they too enter into the great providential order
of which Christianity forms the climax. I can far
more nearly accept the profession of faith that is given
by Bousset, who speaks of a world of reality ' in the
midst of which stands the form of Jesus of Nazareth
as the crown of a great connected history or series of
events {Geschehens) which leads up to Him, and as
the beginning and fountain-head of a working of the
Spirit that reaches down to ourselves, that carries us
with it and takes hold upon us ' (p. 294). If Bousset
and his friends would only take a statement like that
in frill earnest, I think we should have no need to com
plain of them. But do they quite take it in earnest?
According to Bousset, their position rests on two main
pillars: on the one hand, upon the impression made
by the historical Person of Jesus; and on the other
hand, upon the experience of religious people in our

182 Epilogue
own day. I may not be quite satisfied, either with the
way in which he would define the impression of which
he speaks or the way in which he would describe the
contents of the religious experience. I shall come
back to these points, or at least to one of them, later.
But I am far from undervaluing the opening that they
present for reconciling the opposing views. It seems
to me, however, that yet a third factor is needed, and
that this is really implied in the profession of faith
that I have just quoted, if we may only assume that
it means all it says. This third factor is Continuity
— that continuous influence which binds together the
incarnate Life of the Founder of our religion nine
teen centuries ago and the religious experience of us
His followers. I could not possibly express this bond
of continuity better than by the very phrase which
Bousset uses when he calls it a Geisteswirkung or
working of the (Holy) Spirit.
But then, I cannot help asking, if there is this
continuity of Divine influence from the first days of
Christianity downwards, can it be right to take quite
such a leap as Bousset and his friends take, to disen
gage themselves as much as they do from the main
stream of Christian continuity, and to sprinkle quite
so many ' nots ' as they would sprinkle over the docu
ments which express it, in other words over the Chris
tian Creeds?
I have really a great regard for these men. I
greatly appreciate the intellectual sincerity which I
know to be at bottom their motive. I understand why
they reject the advances which writers like Kaftan

VII. The most recent Literature 183
and Seeberg make to them. I am well aware of the
weakness to which all this Vermittelungstheologie,
or ' mediating theology/ is exposed. And I am also
aware that they would call what I have to offer them
by that name. And yet I should very much like just
to state the case as it seems to me from our side, and
to try if we cannot understand each other better.
In the first place there is one ugly word that I
should like, if I can, to remove out of the way. It is
not, I gather, their own word, but is taken over from
their opponents. The word is ' contradictory/ which
occurs in several different contexts. Here are three
of them, from Bousset's article in Theol. Rundschau
(1906). Has K., he asks, the audacity to pronounce the
leaders in the history of O.T. revelation, in contra
dictory opposition to Jesus, as only springing from
below? Or is there not here implied everywhere a
divine ' from above/ only with the distinction of less
and greater perfection until we come to the highest
perfection of all as expressed in Jesus? (p. 300).
Let us banish from our minds the whole idea of
' contradictory opposition to Jesus.' The reason why
Kaftan, and I am afraid Seeberg too, have ever been
led to entertain such an idea at all, is because they
have so watered down the conception of inspiration
that it has ceased to enter into their thinking. Bous
set congratulates them upon having emancipated
themselves from this exploded dogma. He is him
self, of course, wholly emancipated. And yet, in this
very passage, he expresses it himself in set terms, and

184 Epilogue
even makes it the very basis of his reasoning, when
he speaks of the 'divine from above' which points
forward to a still higher Divine.
There is another statement of their own which I
would invite all those whom it concerns to perpend,
and give it its full weight. If they would only do that,
I have no doubt that we could come to terms.
Now for another example of the use of the word
' contradictory ' :
Has one really the right to place the Christian
religion in a declared contradictory, absolute opposi
tion to all other religious life? (p. 413).
Most certainly we have no such right. The recog
nition of that ought to be a truism.
Here is a third example, which has perhaps more
excuse, and yet only an excuse:
S. begins his Christology as usual by maintaining
a contradictory opposition between Jesus and all the
rest of mankind: on one side Humanity, under the
universal domination of sin, and on the other side the
One, the sinless One, the Saviour (p. 416).
Who is it that speaks of ' contradictory opposition '
even here? Certainly not St. Paul, when he says:
' God, sending His own Son in the likeness of sinful
flesh . . . condemned sin in the flesh ' (Rom. viii. 3).
We note that St. Paul makes just this one exception of
Sin : he implies that in all other respects the humanity
of Christ was like our own. It remains, indeed, a
problem for theologians, how far that exception goes
— precisely how much it covers (see pp. 305 f. inf.).
But the problem is one that need not trouble ordinary

VII. The most recent Literature 185
men, and that most theologians may be content to
leave unanswered. But imagine St. Athanasius or
St. Augustine speaking of a ' contradictory opposi
tion ' between the humanity of Christ and our hu
manity! I need not say that, on the contrary, the
substantial identity of His humanity and ours was
of the very essence of their teaching. I am afraid
that, on such points, the ancients were more exact
and careful thinkers than the moderns.
Bousset has a great deal to say about Wirklich-
keitssinn or ' sense of reality/ which he seems to think
can be applied with the greatest ease by light of na
ture to most problems of history and of philosophy.
That involves the rather large assumption that we
know all that is included in the world of reality, and
that the laws we deduce from the contemplation
of those parts of it that come within the range of our
senses can be applied with equal justice to those parts
of it that do not. In other words Wirklichkeitssinn,
for which I suppose the plain English equivalent
would be ' common sense/ means, as it does so often,
just a big begging of the question, a taking for
granted of the real point at issue. Bousset himself
{Jesus, pp. 198-201 ) sets down a number of points in
which the Life of Christ differs from and transcends
other human lives: but he does not seem to inquire
how far these differences imply something further
and more fundamental which may well interfere with
the stringent application of those human analogies,
which is what the Wirklichkeitssinn really means.
But in case we distrust these rather masterful meth-

186 Epilogue
ods, if we hold our presuppositions under control and
do not allow them to decide for us large questions
almost before they are asked, then we are thrown
back upon the more laborious processes of historical
inquiry. Now I do not say for a moment that Bousset
and his friends are not experts in the study of these
processes. There is a great deal in the study of them
that I admire very sincerely indeed. I am aware too
that not only Bousset and his friends but a great
many in this country as well look upon persons like
myself as hampered and trammelled by all sorts of
illicit influences from which they are happily free.
But, strange as it may seem to say so, I sometimes
find myself feeling as though the tables were turned
and I had greater freedom than they. There is that
awkward Wirklichkeitssinn, which has a way of turn
ing up at every corner, and pronouncing what you
are to believe and what you are not, before you can
get the normal apparatus in such matters to work;
or perhaps the apparatus has been at work for some
little time, and a certain conclusion appears to be
pretty plainly indicated, when the Wirklichkeitssinn
rises up on a sudden and moves the closure — applies
the guillotine, as I believe it is called in parliamentary
language — and stops all further debate, imposing
some conclusion which is not what the facts appear
to point to.
I will give an example — a striking example, as it
seems to me — presently. But, before I do so, I should
like to say something seriously about Bousset and his
friends. I am deeply interested in them, and I believe

VII. The most recent Literature 187
that at bottom we are not so far apart as we may
seem. We in the Church of England, who have not yet
ceased to think much of the Christian tradition, are
apt to have our language discounted — and to some
extent justly discounted — when we express ourselves
in terms of that tradition. We repeat the language
of the Ancient Faith, though we expect to have some
allowance made for the difference of times.
To take a prominent instance; the young clergy
man, when he is ordained, says that he believes all the
Scriptures of the Old and New Testaments. And he
does really believe them : he believes that the Bible is
an inspired book, that God really speaks through it,
and therefore that it is rightly called God's Word;
that he can find there all that is necessary for his
soul's health. This he does believe, and it is what he
means when he makes his profession. But it is not
exactly what our forefathers believed, and not what
the authors of the Ordination Service believed. A
certain process of simplification has taken place ; and
a similar process of simplification has taken place else
where. Of course it is a nice question to distinguish
between legitimate simplification and that which is
not legitimate. I do not go into that question now.
My point is that our language in such cases may be
rightly discounted. I shall not be misconstrued if I
put it in the form that we believe, and are understood
to believe, rather less than we seem to say.
But, in the case of these German Lutheran writers,
if we discount their language, we may fairly I think

188 Epilogue
discount it the other way ; I mean, take it as meaning
rather more, and not less, than it says in plain words.
They have pretty well discarded the Christian tra
dition; for practical purposes, it has but little influence
upon them. I should imagine that there are very few
who would take their opinions from the Creeds,
simply because they were the Creeds. On the other
hand, they have a very high academic standard of
intellectual sincerity. Every one feels bound to say
exactly what he thinks, by his own thinking, inde
pendently of any external authority. Public opinion
backs them up in this; it almost compels them to be
not only candid, but even more than candid.
No doubt there are a good many in this country at
the present time who take much the same line. Per
haps German influence, the tone of the German Uni
versities, has had something to do with it. But, apart
from that, innate honesty, of which I do not believe
that we have any lack, was sure to bring about sub
stantially the same result. It is probable enough that
I was describing just now the state of things forty
years ago rather than the state of things to-day.
However that may be, the upshot is that in the case
of the Germans and those of our countrymen who
think and act with them, it is only right to take lan
guage as a minimum, which in the case of others of
us would be taken as a maximum. I believe that we
may often credit both our German friends and our
very candid English friends with rather more than
they put into express words.
Accordingly, I take it with a grain of salt when

VII The most recent Literature 189
some of the writers of whom I have spoken insist, as
we might describe it, on putting ' nots ' into the
Creeds. I take the liberty of interpreting their lan
guage in these cases in the light of their language
elsewhere; and I make some allowance for the Wirk
lichkeitssinn, where that intrusive quality seems on
their own showing to be out of place.
I know that Bousset says more than once that the
life of our Lord did not overstep the limits of the
purely human (pp. 202, 203). But has he the right
to say this? Does it not flatly contradict the facts
as he himself states them? And does he not seek
to prevent it from doing so by expedients that are
quite unjustifiable?
We remember that Bousset is not one of those who
explain away the Messiahship of Jesus. He not only
allows distinctly that our Lord thought of Himself as
the Messiah, but that His consciousness took this form
naturally and, as it were, inevitably. He speaks of
it as ' the form in which an eternal meaning clothed
itself/ He speaks of the title of Messiah as ' neces
sary to Jesus in its general aspect, apart from certain
details : because it alone coincided with his conscious
ness of his own unique position and super-prophetic
significance/ And then he goes on : —
Let us contemplate for a moment this sovereign
sense of leadership by which Jesus was possessed, and
the inimitable sureness with which it unfolded itself in
every direction. He knew how to value the authori
ties of the past, but he placed himself above them.
He was of more account than kings and prophets,
than David, Solomon, and the Temple. The tradition

190 Epilogue
of the elders he met with his ' But I say unto you/ and
even Moses was not an authority to whom he gave
unqualified submission. As with the past, so too the
present bowed before him. John the Baptist he
thought the greatest among the sons of men, yet it
was not Jesus who put the question, ' Art thou he that
cometh ? ' to John, but John to Jesus, and he an
swered the inquiry with a veiled though yet distinct
affirmative (p. 199).
And two more pages of the English translation are
given up to indications of the same kind, ending thus :
' Such words either come from thoughtless presump
tion or from the very highest strength and confidence.
History has decided for the latter/
You will have observed in the passages that I
quoted a number of strong expressions : ' eternal
meaning/ ' unique position/ ' super-prophetic signifi
cance/ ' sovereign sense of leadership.' Is there here
no overstepping of the human? There is indeed one
very paradoxical bit of evidence alleged to the con
trary. It is expressed as follows : —
Above all he did not lay claim to the Judgeship
of the world, although that conception was, strictly
speaking, included in that of the Son of Man. It is
true that in the narratives of our Gospels the opposite
seems to be the case. But it is inconceivable that
Jesus . . . should now have arrogated to himself the
Judgeship of the world in the place of God (p. 203).
Is this really following the evidence, or forcing the
evidence? The Gospels certainly say one thing, but
they are treated as if they said the opposite. I know
that an ingenious theory is propounded to explain how
from one step to another innocent expressions might

VII. The most recent Literature 191
have been taken to mean more than they really did.
But I am afraid that no one, merely from reading the
Gospels, would have been led to explain the facts in
this way. The real motive is subjective and not ob
jective: it is our old friend the Wirklichkeitssinn,
standing where it ought not and thrusting itself into
regions that are beyond its range. It is not the Gos
pels which say that our Lord did not lay claim to be
the Judge of the world, but Bousset whose presup
positions will not allow him to think that He could
have put forward such a claim.
The title ' Son of Man ' is robbed by a tour de force
of half its meaning. And precisely the same thing
has happened to the title Messiah. We are told that
the assumption of this title was a necessity: —
Jesus felt that he stood in such closeness of com
munion with God the Father as belonged to none be
fore or after him. He was conscious of speaking the
last and decisive word ; he felt that what he did was .
final and that no one would come after him. The cer
tainty and simple force of his work, the sunshine,
clearness and freshness of his whole attitude rest
upon this foundation. We cannot eliminate from his
personality without destroying it the trait of super-
prophetic consciousness, the consciousness of the ac-
complisher to whose person the flight of the ages and
the whole destiny of his followers is linked. And
when Jesus wished to give form and expression to
this consciousness, and thereby to lift it from its state
of fermentation into one of clearness and stability,
the only possibility that presented itself to him was
that of the Messianic idea, — of that figure of the
kingly consummator standing at the end of time, as
popular imagination had painted it with its earthly
colours (p. 179).

192 Epilogue
And then, by way of summing up, we have a para
graph which because of its importance is printed in
italics by the author : —
Thus the Messianic idea was the only possible form
in which Jesus could clothe his inner consciousness,
and yet an inadequate form; it was a necessity, but
also a heavy burden which he bore in silence almost
to the end of his life; it was a conviction which he
could never enjoy with a whole heart (p. 180).
There is no doubt one historical moment with refer
ence to which Messiahship might be thought to be a
burden. But I do not believe that the author is think
ing of Gethsemane. He is thinking of the twentieth
century, and its ideas of what constitutes a burden.
I can quite imagine that if (let us say) some modern
Jew, a Zionist leader, suddenly found himself invested
with Messianic powers, he would be troubled by them,
and would not know what to do with them ; he would
be like David in Saul's armour. I suppose it is some
thing of that kind that Bousset has in his mind. But
the Gospels are quite different. There is no hint in
them, throughout the main tenor of His ministry, that
our Lord felt His Messiahship a burden. The Sermon
on the Mount conveys no such impression; still less
does that thanksgiving recorded by St. Luke, ' I thank
Thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that Thou
hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and
hast revealed them unto babes: even so, FatheY; for
so it seemed good in Thy sight' (Luke x. 21).
The whole notion of a burden is pure modernism of
the most gratuitous kind. That was not the way in

VII. The most recent Literature 193
which our Lord thought of the work that the Father
had given Him to do.
I have just taken Bousset as an example, and he is
one of the best of his kind. What applies to him will
apply also substantially to his friends and allies who
seem to be at the present moment the dominating
influence in the German Universities. I think, how
ever, that (as I said) we can put a better construction
upon their work than we could if we were to take
them literally at their word. I value greatly the posi
tive elements in their construction. The data have
been searched with the severest scrutiny possible.
And as a result, two things stand out more clearly
and more indisputably than ever. One is the con
sciousness of our Lord as Messiah; and the other is
His consciousness as Son. I should like to commend
to you a work that came out early in the present year,
an examination of these two leading conceptions by
the veteran scholar H. J. Holtzmann, Das messian-
ische Bewusstsein Jesu (Tubingen, 1907). The book
bears the stamp of its author's characteristic excel
lences. It is crowded with learning, and full of subtle
analysis and subtle differentiation of competing views.
The treatise is, unfortunately, just because of these
qualities, difficult reading; but I do not know any
thing at once so comprehensive and so exact. And,
considering the quarter from which it comes, the
whole tenor of the discussion appears to me to be posi
tive and satisfactory to a degree beyond what might
have been expected. The formula in which Holtz
mann sums up his final result (p. 100) is that Jesus

194 Epilogue
was ' the Messiah and more than a Messiah/ just as
His forerunner the Baptist was a prophet and more
than a prophet (Matt. xi. 9, Luke vii. 26). The
writer who recognizes that, and recognizes it in those
terms, seems to me to have the root of the matter,
whatever else he may say.
Two things are impressed upon me, in looking back
over Holtzmann's book and the immense variety of
opinion which it registers. One is that, if we put aside
a minority which is so small and so unimportant as to
be really negligible, even those who still challenge our
Lord's adoption of the express title Messiah, do so
only by first defining the idea contained in it in a
sense that is rigorously Jewish, while they naturally
go on to deny — as with perfect right they must deny
— that our Lord took to Himself the title in this sense.
Those of whom I speak, if they refuse to describe the
consciousness of our Lord as Messianic, do not there
fore reduce it simply to the common level, but ac
knowledge in it heights and depths to which they
only abstain from giving an explicit name.
That is the first remark that occurs to me : the sec
ond is perhaps more subjective in the way in which
I shall state it; it is an impression borne in upon me
personally by the almost endless multitude of points
insisted upon now by this writer and now by that. It
seems to me that almost every one of these points,
subtle and remote as some of them may be, has some
thing substantial to say for itself. Especially is this
the case with that central title ' Son of Man.' We
must never forget that this is the name which our

VII. The most recent Literature 195
Lord chose specially for Himself, and which He ap
pears to have preferred above every other. The other
names He purposely kept in the background ; but this
He used freely and without hesitation, though even
this He employs objectively and in the third person,
hinting rather than expressly claiming that in speak
ing of the Son of Man He is speaking of Himself.
That being so — the name being our Lord's own
choice, and not that of others for Him — we cannot,
I think, be surprised at its extraordinary wealth of
meaning. For my own part, I should hardly put any
limit to this. No doubt there are differences of pro
portion and perspective; some parts of the idea are
nearer to the centre, and some lie more upon the cir
cumference; but it seems to me that hardly anything
that has ever been attributed to it is wholly without
at least a certain relative justification.
Let us think for a moment how many distinct lines
of association meet in this one phrase. First there is
its use in the Old Testament — its use collectively for
the race of mankind (as in Ps. viii. 4), and then its
use individually (as conspicuously by the prophet
Ezekiel). I myself greatly doubt whether there is a
single instance of its use from which some darting
ray of association does not shoot across from the Old
Testament into the New.
Then there is our Lord's use of the phrase with
reference to His own immediate present; as well the
sense that would attach to. it in current opinion
(though I agree that, while it was employed for spe
cial purposes from time to time, it was not exactly in

196 Epilogue
general or common circulation) as the sense in which
He applied it to the circumstances of His own daily
life (e. g. ' the Son of Man hath not where to lay His
head'). And, thirdly, there is the yet larger sense attach
ing to the phrase in such connotation as it had which
pointed forward definitely to the future. I should
venture to go beyond the Jewish connotation of this
kind, and to express my belief that while our Lord in
cluded this (with modifications of His own into which
we cannot wholly penetrate) He at the same time gave
it a turn that prepared the way and supplied a broad
foundation for those later attempts that Christendom
has made to express in terms of its successive thought
its sense of the ulterior mystery of His Person.
In this last connexion I will go on to make a yet
further remark which has of late suggested itself to
me, and which I am inclined to think of really great
importance, especially for that kind of critical inves
tigation in which we have been engaged. We are in
the habit of asking, what does this or that phrase or
title mean? and we go on to attempt to answer the
question as though it could have but one meaning, and
that fixed and definite, which, when once we realize it,
must of necessity exclude all others. But the fact is
— I do not stay to speculate how far it may be true of
other fields of inquiry, but I am sure that it is true, in
tensely true, of this — that each word or phrase of the
kind of which I have been speaking has many mean
ings, determined in most cases by the persons from

VII. The most recent Literature 197
whom they proceed or to whom they are addressed.
And I am persuaded that in each case, when we try to
envisage a particular meaning, the first thing that we
have to do is to ask ourselves whose meaning we are
in search of, What does the word or phrase mean, and
for whom? This may seem an obvious thing to say;
and it is no doubt true that writers and thinkers con
stantly do ask themselves this question. Still I be
lieve that they ought to do so more persistently than
as a matter of fact they do ; and that the failure to do
this has been a plentiful source of error and confu
sion. If I am not greatly mistaken, it lies at the root of
a great deal of the inadequacy which seems to me
especially to attach to liberal theories over the field
that we have been covering. These theories are at
bottom attempts to modernize; they are attempts to
state ancient facts in terms in which they can be best
understood and best appropriated by modern men. I
have no quarrel with them whatever for this. Sooner
or later we must all come to it. What I am really in
clined to complain of is that the scholars and critics
who make a point of doing this, for the most part do
it too soon. They allow their modernizing to be mixed
up in the statement of ancient facts, whereas they
ought in the first instance to state these facts strictly
as they are, i. e. as ancient. We moderns ought to
begin by using every effort of reason and imagination
to throw ourselves back into the times that we are in
vestigating and to look at men and things, practices
and ideas, strictly in the light of their own context;

198 Epilogue
we ought to exclude ourselves from the process as
much as we possibly can. First let us state the facts
with the most sympathetic reconstruction of which we
are capable of the real conditions by which they were
surrounded, the conditions as they would present
themselves to an observer at that day. They may
seem to us rude and crude. Never mind; our first
business is to take them as they are, with their own
proper atmosphere, and with no admixture of ours.
If we are to do anything, let us rather exaggerate the
significance that particular phenomena seem to have;
that will be at least better than diminishing from it.
Let us try to make our picture as full and as boldly
drawn as it is in our power to make it.
Then, when once we have done this and are satis
fied that we have nothing to add — then, and not be
fore — the time will come to apply it to ourselves.
Then, and not before, we may begin to ask what these
facts, or series of facts, mean for us. This is what
the Liberals are doing; and I would find no fault with
them if they would take the process in that way. Only
one thing, in connexion with this Christian history
which so nearly concerns us : I would beg them to ask
not only what it meant to the men of that time, spec
tators or disciples. Behind the disciples is He of
whom they were disciples. Let us ask, in all rever
ence, and without too much intrusive Wirklichkeits
sinn, what it all meant for Him. We may ask the
question, we may ask it even with some importunity ;
but we must be prepared to find ourselves before long
brought up short, and unable to give an answer. This
is really the most difficult, as it is the most tender,

VII. The most recent Literature 199
point of the inquiry. The next great step — audacious
as it may seem — is really easier ; the step, I mean, of
asking what the Disposer of all events designed in all
this history. Of course I do not suppose that we can
for a moment pretend to discover its place in His
counsels considered as ultimate and absolute. But
we can, with so many centuries to look back upon, see
something of their purpose in relation to the history
of the human race. Not only is this quite a legiti
mate, and quite a feasible, subject for inquiry; not
only are we encouraged to make it for the interest
that it has in itself ; but it has also an important bear
ing upon that application to ourselves of which I have
been speaking.
It seems to me — and with this one bit of practical
advice I will conclude — that a mistake is made in pro
pounding to ourselves so often that question which
we hear on all hands — and that we should hear it so
often is a testimony to the mental sincerity that is
increasingly characteristic of our age — the urgent
question, what is the truth about this or that, what is
true. Far be it from me to blame the sincerity. The
sincerity in itself is excellent; and I will not say that
there is — I am sure that in thousands of cases there is
not — any touch of arrogance in the question. And
yet I cannot but think that, in asking this question,
What is true? we are very many of us not in the least
aware what a tremendous thing it is that we are ask
ing. If we were aware of it, I believe that we should
many of us refrain our lips ; and although that would
not be by any means the same thing as suppressing
or abandoning the question altogether, I believe that

2oo Epilogue
it might often involve putting it by for a later season
when we were more ripe to attempt the answer. I
can well imagine that what I am going to suggest
may seem a less modest form of the question, but I
conceive that it is really a more modest form of it.
I would ask — at least at first and for a long time —
not, what is true about this or that, but what did God
mean by it, for the Church, for the world, for me.
The page of history lies open before us, and we can
read its meaning with comparative ease. In doing
so, we do not attempt to transcend the limits of the
Relative, which is the real point at which the enor
mous difficulties come in; and at the same time we fit
our thought into that teleological contemplation of
the universe which is an endless source of adoration.
And as to such theories as those which the liberal
school puts forward, we of course try to correct them
to the best of our ability. But in our judgments we
recognize the sincerity which prompts them ; we make
allowance for what seem to us to be in part self-im
posed difficulties ; we feel justified in putting our own
interpretation — as we should call it, the full Christian
interpretation — on that collection of significant facts,
which is not denied but proved over and over again
more imperatively than ever. We take what they
give us as a verifiable minimum — a minimum verifi
able by the severest methods — and we are glad to
think that their admissions show that, whether they
exactly formulate the consequences or not, they are
really looking out beyond this minimum, as we look
beyond it ourselves.

IV. MIRACLES
VIII. MIRACLES

VIII
MIRACLES
The haunting problem of Miracles invites repeated
and sustained attempts at its solution. Even a small
advance is yet advance ; and in some respects the con
ditions of inquiry are more favourable at the present
time than they have ever been before.
The great difficulty, it may be said, is to make both
ends meet — on the one hand the presuppositions of
science, and on the other hand the presuppositions of
religion ; on the one hand the data of philosophy, and
on the other hand the data of history.
We are modern men, and we cannot divest our
selves of our modernity. We may be sure that we
are not called upon to divest ourselves of it. We are
placed by God here in the twentieth century. Every
opinion that we hold has a vast context of accumu
lated opinions and beliefs about other things. Our
difficulty is, how to correlate and harmonize all these
various opinions ; and again, how to deal at once sym
pathetically and justly with the beliefs of men of an
other age, whose mental equipment .was very different
from our own.
This fact — the fact that our difficulty lies where it
does — suggests a point of method. It suggests that
203

204 Miracles
we shall do well not to isolate a part of our problem,
but rather to take a broader view of it as a whole.
And for this, perhaps, there is advantage in being
compelled to treat it with the compactness of a single
discourse. If I have to put some slight strain upon
your patience, I will try to make it no greater than
can be helped. I will try also to state the problem in
such a way as to enlist your co-operation in following
the inquiry step by step.
I have said that I would not ask any one to divest
himself of those ideas which we all naturally bring
with us — I mean our ideas as to the uniformity of the
ordinary course of nature. I would only ask you to
set beside these a single assumption of a different
kind, the assumption that every Christian is com
pelled to make by his own experience, that there is
such a thing as answers to prayer. There is no Chris
tian whose experience does not tell him that prayers
are answered on a very large scale indeed.
This experience points beyond itself. It points to
the conclusion that the Power behind the universe is
in touch with human spirits and human wills. It does
not prove that God will violate His own laws, but I
think it does prove that, within the conditions imposed
by those laws, He does interest Himself in human
affairs. In other words, there is a reciprocal relation
— an actively reciprocal relation — between the Power
without us and the spirit or personality within us.
When I speak of the reality of answers to prayer,
I do not at all mean that every prayer is answered.
Our experience is the same in this as in other things ;

VIII Miracles 205
it is that certain classes or kinds of prayer are more
frequently answered than others ; which we may take
to mean, that those particular classes or kinds of
prayer are more entirely in accordance with the Di
vine will than others. But the important point is that
prayers are answered on such an abundant scale as
to place beyond all doubt that reciprocal relation be
tween God and man of which I spoke.
It is a particular form of this relation, not so wide
spread and yet strongly attested, especially for the
earlier ages in the history of mankind, that certain in
dividuals have stood in a closer relation to God than
others, that they have received what we call special
communications from Him, that they have been made
in a higher sense than others the instruments or
organs for the carrying out of His purposes.
This belief is of course by no means confined to
the Bible. In one form or another, lower or higher,
purer or more depraved, it embraces almost all the
races of mankind.
And, along with the belief in special communica
tions to individuals, there has gone, as a sort of
natural accompaniment, the further belief that these
individuals have been gifted with some special power
of showing that the mission which they claimed for
themselves, or which was claimed for them, was real.
They had their credentials, which they were able to
produce ; and these credentials were for the most part
what we call Miracles.
I say that this belief, in its various forms and de
grees, is almost as wide as human nature itself. It is

206 Miracles
expressed very simply and naturally in such a passage
as Acts ii. 22. We are told there that the Prophet
of Nazareth was approved by God to the generation
to which He came by mighty works and wonders and
signs, which God did through Him. And in like man
ner, His follower St. Paul speaks of the signs of an
apostle which he had himself wrought ' by signs and
wonders and mighty works' (2 Cor. xii. 12). The
crowds said of our Lord in reply to the strictures of
the Pharisees, ' How can a man that is a sinner do
such signs?' (John ix. 16). And again, the blind
man who was healed says : ' We know that God hear-
eth not sinners: but if any man be a worshipper of
God, and do His will, him He heareth. ... If this
man were not from God, he could do nothing ' (ibid.
vv. 31, 33). The belief which thus finds expression
in the New Testament is just the common belief of
antiquity, with the moral side sharply accentuated.
It is an integral part of that whole group of ideas
which affirm the reality of communication between
God and man, and the presence on earth of inspired
men who are the special channels of such communi
cation. The most conspicuous pagan example of a worker
of miracles is Apollonius of Tyana, who lived through
the greater part of the first century of our era. His
biography, by Philostratus, is rather more than a
hundred years later, but professes to be based upon
materials left by the most intimate of his personal
disciples. It is a mistake to suppose that the Life was .
written with any deliberate purpose of rivalry to our 1

VIII. Miracles 207
Lord, though it was utilized in that sense in the acute
stage of pagan and Christian controversy at the be
ginning of the fourth century. The Life is a strange
mixture of modest claims — Apollonius did not pro
fess to be more than a sage and good man, and only
divine in the sense in which any good man might be
divine — of ascetic and irreproachable conduct, of
shrewdness approaching at times almost to wisdom,
with puerilities both of teaching and of practice, and
with fantastic stories of the marvellous. These reach
a climax in the account of the Indian Brahmins, whom
Apollonius visits in his search for what is left of
primitive wisdom; but he himself has the power of
predicting events, of exorcizing demons, of putting
down ghosts and lamiae (it will be remembered that
Keats's poem ' Lamia ' is based on one of the
stories) ; on one occasion he causes a pestilence to
cease by indicating the appropriate sacrifices; he is
transported from place to place ; he can at will release
himself from fetters.
The sage is often called a magus, both in pagan
literature and in Christian (e. g. by Origen) ; but the
Life tries to vindicate him at least from anything
discreditable implied in the title. The evidence has
been accumulating in recent years of the wide pre
valence of magic under the early Empire. Besides
what has come to light through a closer study of the
literature, magic holds a large place among the docu
ments of common life discovered in Egypt and else
where. We owe especially to Sir W. M. Ramsay
the warning that we do wrong to think of everything

208 Miracles
magical as pure imposture and delusion. Let me
quote a few lines from the comment in St. Paul the
Traveller (p. yy f.) upon the meeting between St.
Paul and the Magian Bar-jesus. The latter
is commonly said to be a magician, a mere 'Jewish
impostor ' ; and he is compared to the modern gipsy
teller of fortunes. Such comparisons, while having
a certain element of truth, are misleading, and give a
false idea of the influence exerted on the Roman world
by Oriental personages like this Magian. . . . No
strict line could then be drawn between lawful, hon
ourable scrutinizing of the secret powers of Nature
and illicit attempts to pry into them for selfish ends,
between science and magic, between chemistry and
alchemy, between astronomy and astrology. The two
sides of investigation passed by hardly perceptible
degrees into one another. ... It was not possible in
the infancy of knowledge to know where lay the
bounds between the possible and the impossible, be
tween the search for the philosopher's stone or the
elixir of life and the investigation of the properties
of argon or the laws of biology. ... It is certain
that the priests of some Eastern religions possessed
very considerable knowledge of the powers and proc
esses of nature; and they were able to do things that
either were, or seemed to be, marvellous.
Sir W. M. Ramsay adds that his own experience
makes him believe that, ' so far as influence over hu
man or animal nature and life was concerned, their
powers were wonderful.'
That passage is, I believe, very far from being the
least of the many debts that we owe to its accom
plished author, whose knowledge of ancient life is so
profound.

VIII. Miracles 209
Undoubtedly there was this side to ancient magic.
Nor would it be true to say that there was no insis
tence upon moral conditions as necessary for the ex
ercise of superior powers. The history of Apollonius
would be evidence to the contrary. But, at the same
time, these conditions certainly were not laid down
with the clearness and firmness that characterize the
passages quoted a little while ago from the Gospels.
Speaking broadly, I am afraid it would be true that
magic presented the lower and baser side of ancient
religion. The higher elements were, I suspect, the
exception, and the lower elements the rule. Both on
the part of priests and people, of the magi themselves
and their clients, the worse passions and motives were
brought out rather than the better. I have in mind
the large extent to which the specimens of magic that
have come down to us are either erotic or impreca
tory. Of course in any general estimate we must
simply follow the evidence. But I do not think it
will be denied that Biblical Religion stands upon an
altogether higher level, even from its earliest stages
onwards. With so much of preface on the comparative aspect
of the question, we may now go on to trace the his
tory of Miracle as we find it in the Bible, first in the
Old Testament and then in the New. I believe that
we shall find the advantage in each case of consider
ing the Miracles as they come before us, not in the
abstract, but with reference to their place in the his
tory and the evidence upon which they rest.
The early chapters of Genesis stand rather apart,

210 Miracles
as falling under the head of what may be called ' sym
bolical history/ Putting these aside, the miracles of
the Old Testament fall into four groups: (i) the
miraculous narratives of the Hexateuch, including
the Exodus, the Wanderings with the Giving of the
Law from Mount Sinai, and the Conquest of Canaan ;
(ii) the Elijah- and Elisha-narratives ; (iii) the su
pernatural element in the lives of the Prophets; (iv)
a few miracles that may be called ' literary/ like those
in the Books of Jonah and Daniel.
With the exception of a few fragments, like the
songs in Num. xxi, the oldest portions of the Hexa
teuch are probably separated from the events by sev
eral centuries, hardly less than four. It would follow
almost inevitably that the story has come down to
us very largely in the form of folklore, as a product
of oral tradition. It need not be on that account, and
certainly is not, any the less a vehicle of divine reve
lation. The Holy Spirit made use of folklore, as it
made use of other natural forms of Hebrew litera
ture, to convey the lessons which God desired to have
taught to His people. We only need to think of the
story of the Burning Bush, of the Decalogue, of the
concluding of the Covenant in Ex. xxiv, and of
the proclamation of the Divine Name in Ex. xxxiv,
to be assured that this was so. Neither is there
any reason to question the strong belief which over
shadowed the whole later history of Israel, that the
deliverance from Egypt was a great interposition of
Providence, and that the nucleus of the Pentateuchal
legislation was a special work of divine inspiration

VIII Miracles 211
initiated by Moses. At the same time, the details of
the narratives as we have them show evident signs
of the kind of shaping that would be natural to folk
lore. This appears, for instance, in the artificial nu
meration and gradual crescendo of the Ten Plagues,
and in the highly poetic description of the Giving of
the Law from Sinai, modelled upon the standing sym
bolism of Hebrew theophanies (the storm-cloud, fire,
lightning and thunder, as in Ps. xviii, etc. ) , and in the
equally poetic description of the battle of Bethhoron
and the lengthening of the day in Joshua x.
The histories of Elijah and Elisha are much nearer
— indeed quite near — to the events. And yet the dif
ference is one of degree rather than of kind. Here,
too, an element of folklore has entered in; especially
in the case of Elisha (e. g. 2 Kings, ii. 19-25). But,
along with this, not only are the general narratives
at a high level as the history of a crisis, at once of
religious and of political history, but they also embody
incidentally notable revelations, as to Elijah at Horeb,
to Elisha's servant at Dothan, in the story of Gehazi
and the like.
From a religious point of view, the culminating in
stances of the supernatural in the Old Testament are
in connexion with the writing prophets ; for instance
the vision, which accompanied the call of the leading
prophets (Isa. vi, Jer. i, Ezek. i), the communion
which they are represented as habitually holding with
God, and the peculiar insight into His counsels with
which they were endowed. But there are also defi
nite predictions, literally fulfilled (e. g., the destruc-

212 Miracles
tion of Sennacherib's army, or Jeremiah's denuncia
tion of the false prophet Hananiah). It was never
intended that we should take literally such things as
Jonah and the whale, or the celestial journeys of Eze
kiel (ii. 12; viii. 3; xi. 1, 24; xxxvii. 1 ; xliii. 5). That
these things should have been taken literally at dif
ferent periods in the history of the Church does not
affect the matter; because from the first the stress
lay upon the moral lesson conveyed, and not upon
the reality of the occurrences as history.
As we look back over these Old Testament mira
cles, we cannot help noticing how the evidence for
them becomes stronger as they approximate to the
type supplied by answers to prayer. The conclusion
most effectually proved is that of the extraordinary
personal endowment of certain chosen individuals,
and especially of their extraordinary communion with
God and knowledge of His will. The providential
focussing of natural processes upon a particular point
and for a particular end is also well attested; but
the cruder interferences with natural law elude our
grasp. In turning to the New Testament, we shall still do
well to follow the obvious classification according to
documents: (i) the miracles of the Gospels, or, more
strictly, of the critically separable documents which
underlie our present Gospels; (ii) the miracles of the
Acts, both those parts of Acts in which the author
speaks as an eye-witness, and those in which he does
not — for I think I may assume the thesis so con-

VIII. Miracles 213
sistently maintained by English scholars and now
strongly defended by Harnack, that St. Luke was
really the author of the whole book; and (iii) the scat
tered allusions to miracles that occur in the Epistles
of St. Paul.
Both jointly and severally these three classes con
tain a number of miracles, the evidence for which is
exceedingly strong.
In the Gospels we have a convergence of evidence
from every one of the larger documents or literary
strata that criticism indicates. And the evidence,
which is so considerable in quantity, is excellent also
in quality. It is not only the direct evidence of nar
rative, but the still more important indirect evidence
of discourse, which implies the existence of miracles.
It is also evidence of a very restrained and trust
worthy kind; the Gospels certainly do not make too
much of miracle, but are very careful to keep it in a
subordinate place. We may well doubt whether, with
out miracle, the belief would ever have grown up that
Jesus of Nazareth was the Messiah, in view of the
striking absence of those attributes and functions
which the Jews expected in their Messiah.
And yet the Gospels, good as their credentials are,
stop short of evidence that is absolutely at first hand,
unless we insist upon statements in the Fourth Gos
pel which are still called in question. But, however
that may be, the defect is made good in the Acts and
Epistles. On the one hand, we have a number of
miracles dating from the time when St. Luke himself
was actually in the company of those who performed

214 Miracles
them. And, on the other hand, we have express state
ments by St. Paul in which he is speaking from his
own personal experience and personal knowledge.
The charismata included gifts that every one be
lieved to be miraculous, and St. Paul himself possessed
these gifts in an eminent degree.
For the purpose of history, we can only take that
state of things as it stands. The picture that we form
for ourselves of the history must include the sincere
and convinced belief of those who were actors in it.
Their good faith cannot be reasonably questioned.
Nor can we doubt that their whole attitude of mind
towards these things which they saw with their own
eyes, and heard with their own ears, and did with
their own hands, was the attitude of men who be
lieved themselves to be in contact with miracle. Their
settled assumption was that no one could do such
things unless God were with him.
As historians, we have no need to analyze the con
sciousness of these men any further. The only ques
tion is as to our own consciousness: how are we to
look at and describe to ourselves these phenomena of
which the record has come down to us? We shall
try, I think, to do justice to both sides: we shall so
far hold our own ground as not to postulate anything
that would radically conflict with our conception of
nature; but we shall not, on that account, allow our
selves so to impose our presuppositions upon the first
Christians as to do violence to their convictions.
Let us take the two latter of our three classes of
miracle, those from time to time alluded to in the

VIII. Miracles 215
Epistles of St. Paul, and those narrated in the ' We-
document' or Travel-diary of the Acts. Here, the
testimony of St. Paul is absolute, as coming from one
who was himself a miracle- worker ; it is only qualified
in so far as his descriptions are vague and general.
It is certain that he believed miracle to be a charac
teristic phenomenon of the age in which he lived and
of the circles in which he moved. It is also certain
that he fully believed himself to be gifted with the
power of working miracle. The one drawback is that
he has not left any full and exact record of the feats
which he regarded as miraculous.
On the other hand, the testimony of St. Luke is
absolute in so far as his narrative contains sufficiently
detailed descriptions — it is at least as absolute as an
honest eye-witness could make it; it is qualified in so
far as the miracles which he relates were not actually
worked by himself. We are indeed led to infer that
some of the cures accomplished upon the island of
Melita were of cases that came under his own hand
in the active practice of his medical profession. Har
nack has noticed a delicate little touch which points
to this.1 Whereas the first person is generally rather
suppressed, and whereas the healing of the father of
Publius is expressly referred to St. Paul, we are told
that, ' when this was done, the rest also which had
diseases in the island came, and were cured [rather,
' received medical treatment ' : Ramsay] ; who also
honoured us with many honours.' St. Luke himself
was one of those towards whom the islanders were
» Lukas der Arzt, p. n.

216 Miracles
specially grateful. Obviously he had used his pro
fessional skill, and he believed that God had worked
with him.
It is true that here again the description becomes
vague and summary. And yet, taking the double
testimony together of St. Paul and St. Luke, its
cogency must be allowed to be very considerable.
The burden of question seems to fall rather upon
us in these latter days. What have we to say in
reference to these miracles, which appear to be so
amply attested?
Before I attempt to answer this question, it may be
well for me to ask your attention to a remarkable, far-
sighted, philosophical passage in St. Augustine, which
shows that we moderns have no monopoly of deeper
thought on the relation of miracles to the uniformity
of nature. In De Civitate Dei, xxi. 8, St. Augustine
writes :
We say that all miracles (or prodigies, portenta)
are contrary to nature; but that they are not. For
how can that be contrary to nature which takes place
by the will of God, seeing that the will of the great
Creator is the true nature of everything created ? So
miracle is not contrary to nature, but only to what we
know of nature {contra quam est not a natura).1
Miracle is not really a breach of the order of nature ;
it is only an apparent breach of laws that we know,
in obedience to other and higher laws that we do not
know.
1 My attention was first called to this passage by Barth, Haupt
probleme d. Lebens Jesu (1899), p. 115.

VIII. Miracles 2 1 7
If, with this principle in our mind, we examine the
miracles of St. Luke's Travel-diary, we shall find
them fall under it perfectly. We shall find that they
do not imply anything really irregular or arbitrary.
We shall find that they come strictly under the analogy
of answers to prayer.
Let us run rapidly through this little group of
miracles, and we shall see that this is true. The in
cident of the soothsaying girl at Philippi is psycho
logically quite intelligible. Her exclamation at the
sight of St. Paul and his companions, ' These men
are servants of the Most High God/ is very parallel
to the exclamation of the possessed man in the syna
gogue at Capernaum, ' I know thee who thou art, the
Holy One of God.' Patients of this sort often have
a quick eye and ready intuition for high degrees of
goodness; it is just that which renders them suscep
tible to personal influence. The earthquake that broke
open the doors of the prison was only a natural event
timed opportunely. When St. Paul preached at
Troas, and Eutychus fell from the upper story, the
apostle perceived that life was in him, though those
who took him up thought him dead. I suppose we
should now say that he was probably suffering from
' concussion of the brain/ The prophecy of Agabus
(Acts xxi. 11) is an example of a gift that was com
mon both under the Old Covenant and the New. The
events of the shipwreck were providentially ordered,
but none of them ' against nature/ And the same
would be true of all that happened on the island of
Melita. The simplest explanation of the incident of

218 Miracles
the viper would probably be that a non-poisonous
snake was mistaken for a poisonous one; and the facts
recently collected by Sir William Ramsay will show
that this might easily have happened.1 The healing
of disease is one of the best authenticated forms of
miracle; but it, if anything, is a case of one set of
natural forces counteracting another. These, I think,
are all the miracles for which we have a voucher that
they took place in St. Luke's presence, and may we not
say that not a single one need cause any real diffi
culty? If it is objected that, on this showing, they
cease to be miracles, I answer, Not at all. The essen
tial point is the Divine act; and that, I think, is
proved. We are beginning to learn the lesson that
an act is not less divine because it is fundamentally
in accordance with law. A special providence is a
miracle, and fulfils all the true purpose of miracle;
it is a real proof of divine protection and divine co
operation — a real mark of a mission from God.
Rather, in these miracles of the Travel-diary we
shall see exactly what we might expect to find — a
series of events, which towards the men of that day
turned the side of miracle and satisfied all the pur
pose of miracle, and which to us turns the other side
of conformity to nature, showing that at least we need
not assume any literal dislocation of the established
order. The broad conclusion to which we shall come is,
I think, that the belief in miracle was relative to the
age in which the miracles occurred, that it was an
> Expositor, 1907, i. 122 f.

VIII. Miracles 219
inevitable product of the culture and ideas of that
age, that historically it served the purpose that it was
intended to serve, but that it has come down to us
with a different mental context, under different con
ditions, and so requires some corresponding modifi
cation of statement. There is nothing strange in all
this. It is the way in which God has really ordered
the successive ages of mankind, each with charac
teristics of its own, and each leading on to the next
beyond. It is true that all that I have just been saying has
reference specially to a particular class of miracle,
to the miracles contained in a particular document or
section of the narrative of the Acts. It is a further
question how far this can be taken as typical of the
rest of the New Testament. I believe that the mira
cles with which we have been dealing can be taken as
typical of another important class, viz. those alluded
to in the Epistles of St. Paul. The evidence for these
is as decisive as it is for those of the Travel-diary.
The events assuredly happened; they were assuredly
believed to be miracles, and they assuredly discharged
the functions of miracle. But at the same time, they
are not described with the same amount of detail.
And there is a certain exercise of faith in the assump
tion that, if they had been described with equal de
tail, they would have proved to be equally tractable.
There is an element of conjecture in assuming this,
but I do not think more than is reasonable. What we
read about miracles — especially about the charismata
— in the Epistles of St. Paul is of the nature of things

220 Miracles
unusual, obedient to laws that are somewhat recon
dite, distinctly implying divine impulse and divine
guidance, and yet at most non contra naturam sed
contra quam est nota natura.
Let me confess at once frankly, that we cannot go
quite as far as this in regard to the Miracles of the
Gospels. If we take the accounts of these that have
come down to us as they stand, we should have to
assume a degree of interference with the order of
nature that is greater in degree and more difficult in
kind. The whole problem before us, as I began by saying,
is one of making both ends meet. And it is here in
the Gospels that this problem becomes most acute.
We cannot as yet make both ends meet; we cannot
as yet reach hands across the chasm. But we can
perhaps see how the two ends may conceivably meet,
and how the chasm may conceivably be crossed some
day. Hitherto our inquiry has run upon double lines —
on the one hand upon the historical or historico-crit-
ical line, of looking carefully at the evidence and try
ing to estimate its precise value, and on the other
hand upon the more or less philosophical line, of look
ing at the causes or factors with which we have to
operate, or which we may assume to have been at
work. If any advance has been made, it has been
advance upon these double lines, bringing them nearer
to each other.
And so in regard to the Gospels, we have first to
remark, that we have much that stands high, but

VIII. Miracles 221
nothing that stands quite so high as the Travel-diary
of the Acts or the Epistles of St. Paul. Both these
authorities are strictly and in the fullest sense at first
hand. In the case of the diary, we might even be
lieve that it was not written entirely from memory,
but that actual notes may have been set down at the
time. Harnack believes that this may have been done
(p. 38). But however that may be, the distinctive
feature of the diary is its peculiar freshness of im
pression. There is nothing quite equal to this — or
at least quite equal for our present purpose — in the
Gospels. The Gospel of St. Mark, which is the real
foundation of the synoptic narrative, is not a first
hand work but a work at second-hand — though I fully
believe, good second-hand. St. Mark, if he had ac
tually seen anything, had seen very little of what he
describes ; he is dependent upon others. I believe my
self that the author of the Fourth Gospel was an eye
witness ; and, if he was an eye-witness, that is a fact
of no small importance in its bearing upon miracle.
But, even if it were so, we must remember that an
interval of from fifty to sixty years had passed be
tween the events and the time at which he wrote.
During all those many years he must have heard his
own stories told by others besides himself ; they might
easily have received slight accretions, which he could
not well distinguish from the original facts of his
own consciousness. He was also in any case a writer
of vivid imagination. We may add, not only so, but
a writer with imagination stimulated in this particular
direction. St. John held most tenaciously to the be-

222 Miracles
lief that he had found the Way, the Truth, and the
Life. He believed that the Master whom he loved
was none other than God. Would it be strange if
that belief, held so intensely, had affected somewhat
his story of miracles, to the extent of heightening
some of their details? The possibility is one that I
do not think we can exclude. The intellectual habit
of the evangelist, though truthful, was believing
rather than critical.
I am prepared therefore to believe that there may
be some deduction to be made, on historical grounds,
from the narratives of Miracle in the Gospels. But
against this deduction on the one side is to be set a
certain enhancement on the other. When we look at
the rationale of miracle, the main part of the secret
must lie within the bounds of personality, of charac
ter and will. Those who worked miracles were with
out doubt gifted persons ; they were persons endowed
with special gifts for the carrying out of a special
purpose. Now we are prepared to think — and mod
ern experience must make us more and more prepared
to think — that the latent powers of personality and
human will are very great and very elastic — great
and elastic beyond the measure of ordinary experi
ence. Faith-healing, for instance, and Christian
Science, whatever we may think of them in other
ways, have shown themselves at times capable of pro
ducing results that before the fact would hardly have
seemed credible. But, if we may argue upward from
such things to St. Luke and St. Paul, still more may
we argue upward from St. Luke and St. Paul to Him

VIII. Miracles 223
whom they served. From His Person, if from any,
we are sure that there went forth healing and power.
In our own day we have seen things, of which if our
grandfathers had been told, they would have laughed
in our faces. It has become an everyday occurrence
for ships on the high seas to communicate with each
other and with the land at great distances, for two
persons to converse far away from each other, for
momentary sounds to be caught and preserved and
reproduced at will, for the interior of the human
frame to be explored and the skeleton seen of the
living man. All these things are matters of set con
trivance, and miracles were not contrived. But con
trivance is only the conscious application of known
laws; and the instances I have given will show that
laws of which the world is ignorant to-day may be
quite familiar to-morrow, and through these laws
forces may work the very existence of which is not
suspected. All is certainly not irregular that seems
irregular. Portentum ftt non contra naturam, sed
contra quam est nota natura. Deduct something per
haps from the historical statement of the fact; and
add something to our conception of what is possible
in the course of nature; and if the two ends do not
exactly meet, we may yet see that they are not very
far from meeting. The question is mainly one of
adjustment. A distinction is often drawn between miracles
wrought upon conscious beings and acting (it may
be presumed) through their consciousness, and others
that are alleged to have been wrought upon inani-

224 Miracles
mate nature. There is doubtless a real significance in
this distinction. We must, however, admit that it cer
tainly was not present to the mind of the Biblical his
torians, and that miracles of the one class are not
inferior in attestation to those of the other. This
latter class of miracles constitutes perhaps one of the
obscurest corners of the subject; but there is one text
at least which seems to make it clear that our Lord
Himself was conscious of the power of acting upon
inanimate things as well as upon men — and, not only
so, but that He assumed the existence of the same
power in His disciples as well as in Himself. The
text is couched in a form of solemn asseveration:
' Verily I say unto you, If ye have faith as a grain
of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Re
move hence to yonder place ; and it shall remove ; and
nothing shall be impossible unto you ' (Matt. xvii. 20,
cf . Luke xvii. 6) . This is perhaps hyperbole ; for our
Lord did use hyperbole — He did not shrink from
strong expressions ; but hyperbole implies a heighten
ing of degree but not a difference in kind. We shall
therefore keep an open door on this side also, though
because some miracles may vindicate for themselves
a place within it, it does not follow that all will do so.
It is in this direction that we shall probably have to
leave some parts of the Gospel narrative unexplained.
There will perhaps always be a residuum that baffles
explanation; we must be content if that residuum is
brought within narrower limits.
The point that perhaps chiefly comes out in such an
examination as we have been attempting, is the in-

VIII Miracles 225
finite play and gradation, the subtle correlation of ex
ternal evidence and internal criticism, over the whole
field of Miracle.
In face of the evidence that has been laid before
you, how futile and how wrong by every authentic
standard of truth and error are the sweeping denials
that one often reads and hears. Such denials are of
course the easiest thing in the world; but they do
violence to history; they do violence to the sensitive
conscience of the trained historian. We remember
the airy way in which Matthew Arnold used to say
' Miracles do not happen.' There was more excuse
for him then, at the first stage of a really fresh and
frank examination of the question in a modern spirit,
than there would be for us with a quarter of a century
more of reflection and study behind us. But all that
he was really justified in saying was that miracles do
not happen now. And the truth in this proposition
is only, that our attention is fixed upon a different
order of causation, and when miracles happen we call
them by another name. There are many things, espe
cially in the region of spiritual experience, that might
be called miracles, if we care to use the word. But
nothing in modern experience can cancel the well-
attested facts of history. That miracles happened in
the full conviction and belief of the early Christians,
and with the full significance that they attached to
miracles, is as certain as our own existence. The
only question that is open to discussion is the more
exact analysis of the sense in which we at the pres
ent day are to describe them as miracles. But we too

226 Miracles
look back upon them primarily as events in the past.
And therefore, for us too, this exact and scrupulous
analysis of our own ideas is really of secondary im
portance. The first thing that we have to grasp is
the place of Miracle in the procession of the ages, as
they are slowly unrolled in accordance with the mind
and purpose of Almighty God.

V. THE HIGHER SIGNIFICANCE OF
THE PERSON AND WORK OF
CHRIST
IX. ' ATONEMENT AND PERSONALITY '
X. ' THE GOSPEL IN THE GOSPELS '
XI. ' THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. PAUL '

IX
'ATONEMENT AND PERSONALITY X
Dr. Moberly's book is little less than a complete
system of theology. It deals with such fundamental
questions and the way in which it deals with them is
itself so fundamental and so far-reaching that, either
directly or by logical consequence, all the great doc
trines of our faith seem to be involved. It is long
indeed since a book appeared which gave the same
impression of a whole series of connected problems
not only handled thoughtfully but really thought out,
traced back to their deepest roots and followed
through to the very end.
And then the reasoned system thus constructed is
so firmly knit together, its logical cohesion is so ad
mirable, that it claims — and reasonably claims — to be
accepted as a whole.
It is just this inner cohesion that increases the
difficulty of those who come to the book more or less
from without, with a different set of ideas in their
minds and with something which, however inferior,
is yet of the nature of a system of their own. They
will not find it so easy as they do with most books to
1 Atonement and Personality. By R. C. Moberly, D.D., London, 1901.
There is a cheap edition now to be had (1907).
229

230 The Person and Work of Christ
accept and assimilate a point here and a point there.
What they have before them presents itself as a com
plete recasting — or perhaps more correctly a complete
re-interpretation — of their whole creed. It will seem
to the reader at times as though this re-interpreta
tion had to be either taken or left as it stands, and
could not be partly taken and partly left. The pres
ent paper is an attempt, which the writer thinks will
have to be made by others besides himself, to see
how far any such separation of parts is possible.
Before going further let us add to the description
by saying that the style in which the book is written
reflects the qualities of the thought. The book is ex
ecuted, as it is conceived, in the ' grand style/ The
very construction of the paragraphs is such as befits
a great book and not a small one. Perhaps there is
just a little redundance of illustration and exposition.
We are sometimes tempted to ask whether, when a
thing has been said as well as it can possibly be said
in words of one syllable, it is quite necessary to re
peat it or to repeat it more than once in words a good
deal longer. But the important thing is that style
and thought together are to an extraordinary degree
consecutive, clear-cut, exact. If the reader experi
ences any difficulty we may be sure that it never arises
from real vagueness or haziness or superficiality.
Dr. Moberly emphatically knows his own mind, and it
will be the reader's fault if he also does not know it.
At the same time, though keenly logical, the book is
the very reverse of dry and hard. It glows with in
tense conviction, with the inspiration of a lofty ideal ;

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 231
and yet the glow is subdued by the consciousness of
dealing with the most sacred themes.
In short the book is one of such high distinction
both in matter and form that I should hesitate to say
what I really think about it or to assign to it the place
in English theology that I believe it really holds. I
may perhaps do so before I conclude.
It should be said further that every possible help
is given to the reader. There is a motto in Greek
(Gal. vi. 14). There is a dedication, which is really
a summing up in brief of the central thought of the
book. There follows an analysis of the contents
which is remarkably full, and able. And to complete
the whole there is an excellent index. Seldom has a
book been set before the public in which so much was
done to make the course of the argument clear and in
telligible. And seldom has an argument been so com
mended by gravitas, dignitas, pietas, reverentia.
I
I said that the dedication contains the gist of the
whole volume. It is as follows: To | the Church |
One Holy Catholic ] the Body of the Spirit [ of
Jesus Christ | very God of very God | Incarnate |
which is | the Regeneration and Hope | of the
whole world.
It may surprise some readers to see that there is
not a word here that suggests what they are in the
habit of associating with Atonement; and it may be
well to say at once that Atonement is to be taken
throughout in the largest sense. It is not a part of

232 The Person and Work of Christ
what we sometimes call ' the scheme or process of re
demption/ but the whole of it. I shall presently ask
whether a certain portion of the process is not em
phasized rather too exclusively, whether it is not
made rather too much to absorb the rest. But in the
meantime the terms of the dedication will explain
what I meant at the outset when I said that the book
touched in turn upon all the most fundamental doc
trines of Christianity. It deals at very close quarters
with the whole question of the Incarnation. It deals
at equally close quarters with the whole doctrine of
the Trinity. Its leading thought is an exposition of
the nature and work of the Holy Spirit.
I do not know what will be the feeling of others,
but I confess that to me the treatment of all this side
of the subject is extraordinarily helpful and attract
ive. It happens that I have myself for some time
past been engaged more particularly with these topics.
And not only do I constantly find Dr. Moberly sug
gesting the very word or formula that I want, but I
should also say that, as well as I can judge, the whole
of my experience and reading goes to confirm his
conclusions. I certainly do not know any other book
on these subjects which approaches this in value. It
is bold with the boldness that comes when a thing has
been really thought out; and the boldness is never,
to the best of my belief, otherwise than justified.
I should like to quote and to quote freely; but I
must content myself with setting down a few heads
on which I would refer the reader to the book itself.
The doctrine of the Trinity is essentially a doctrine

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 233
of Trinity in Unity. The basal truth is that God is
one. The further revelation of Divine ' Persons '
explains and expands but does not contradict this.
' The personal distinction in Godhead is a distinction
within, and of, unity : not a distinction which qualifies
unity, or usurps the place of it, or destroys it' (pp.
xxiii, 83, 154 f., 202).
The popular theology verges dangerously upon
Tritheism. The word ' person ' is the best that can
be used. And yet in using it we ought to lay stress
rather on its positive than on its negative side. We
must guard against being misled by our own experi
ence of personality. We should think of the Divine
Persons as ' mutually inclusive ' rather than ' mutu
ally exclusive' (pp. xxiii, 156-63, 202).
The safeguard against Sabellianism lies in the word
' mutual.' The relations of the Divine Persons to each
other are mutual relations. But Sabellianism 'degrades
the Persons of Deity into aspects ' ; and ' there can be
no mutual relations between aspects ' (pp. 80, 165).
Christ is God, not generically but identically. For
the word God does not admit of a plural. And
Christ is also Man, not generically but inclusively. He
is not one man amongst many. The nearest analogy
for His relation to mankind is that of Adam; and
even that analogy is imperfect. His Humanity ' was
not merely the Humanity of a finite creature, but the
Humanity of the Infinite God.' It had therefore a
unique capacity for universal relation. And the
means whereby that universal relation is realized is
His Spirit (pp. xx, 88 f., 204). [This of course is

234 The Person and Work of Christ
difficult; but the difficulty is one that the Christian
theologian cannot escape; and I know no treatment
of it that is so helpful as Dr. Moberly's.]
In our insistence upon the Two Natures in Christ
we are in danger of falling into Nestorian dualism.
' The phrase " God and man " is of course perfectly
true. But it is easy to lay undue emphasis on the
" and." And when this is done — as it is done every
day — the truth is better explained by varying the
phrase. " He is not two, but one, Christ." He is,
then, not so much God and man as God in, and
through, and as, man.' It is a mistake to try to keep
open, ' as it were, a sort of non-human sphere, or
aspect, of the Incarnation ' (pp. xx, 96 f. ; cf. 94).
The dominant idea in the minds of the New Testa
ment writers is that of the Incarnation. The revela
tion both of the ' Son ' and of the ' Spirit ' has refer
ence to this and grows out of it. The title ' Son ' is
given to our Lord in the New Testament primarily
as the Incarnate. To say this is not to imply that the
terms ' Father ' and ' Son ' have not a further truth
in regard to the eternal relations of the Godhead ; but
the order in which they are revealed arises out of the
Incarnation (pp. xxiv, 184 ff.).
Hence the many passages, especially the saluta
tions of the Epistles, in which Two of the Divine Per
sons appear to be mentioned without the Third, are
by no means a ' maimed Trinitarian formula/ They
contain no direct reference to the Trinity. The pri
mary reference is rather to the Incarnation — to God
as Eternal and God as Incarnate. But really the

IX. ' Atonement and Personality ' 235
Third Person, though not mentioned, is implied. It
is through the Holy Spirit that ' grace and peace '
come from God to us (pp. xxiv, 187-95).
I very much wish that space allowed me to develop
these points as they deserve. But I have much yet
to say; and I very much hope that the reader who
seeks enlightenment on these deep mysteries will seek
it, not in these pages, but in those of the book itself.
The references have been given partly to indicate
where help may be had on subjects that are naturally
difficult and abstruse, and partly to illustrate the
wealth of valuable matter that surrounds the main
course of the argument. II
But it is time to set out more directly what that
argument is.
It starts from an analysis of the connected ideas of
punishment, penitence, forgiveness. The main object
of such punishment as comes within the range of
Atonement is to produce penitence. It is penitence
that really atones. Forgiveness is the correlative of
' f orgiveableness/ It is not simply not punishing ;
or treating as if innocent, or regarding as innocent.
These things are not even moral apart from a justi
fying cause. The justification is to be sought in peni
tence, which is a real change of self wrought from
within. Real penitence — not only the perfection but any
adequate degree of penitence — is to simple human
nature impossible. Perfect penitence requires not

236 The Person and Work of Christ
only contrition for sin, but complete identity of the
self with the holiness which condemns sin. This com
bination is to be found only in Christ, whose death
upon the cross was as it were a vicarious penitence
perfect in its kind.
The great question is, How is this transcendent act
of penitence on the part of Christ to be brought home
to the human soul ? And the answer is, Through the
operation of the Holy Spirit transforming the human
self from within; making the objective subjective;
renewing our nature, so that it is no longer ours but
Christ's, not by the destruction of our own personal
ity but by its consummation. Pentecost is the true
complement of Calvary. Calvary without Pentecost
is not yet in vital relation with ourselves. Its virtue
becomes ours through the indwelling Spirit of Christ.
These are the main lines of the argument, very
imperfectly sketched. I will assume that most of
those who read this will obtain a closer acquaintance
with it. The hints that have been given may be
enough to hang our comments upon ; and they may in
what follows receive some extension.
The points on which I propose to comment more
particularly are three — (1) the conception of for
giveness as necessarily implying ' forgiveableness ' ;
(2) the mode in which the transition from objective
to subjective is effected, as involving the denial of
anything in the nature of a 'transaction'; (3) the
view of the indwelling Spirit as ultimately constitut
ing the true self.
Now it is to be observed that on each of these
central points Dr. Moberly's treatment is in the full-

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 237
est possible accord with the tendencies of modern
thought. Like him, modern thought also denies that
forgiveness can be separated from forgiveableness.
Like him, it repudiates any idea of ' transaction/
Like him, not quite so broadly, but yet in an active
section of its representatives, it is prepared to break
down the distinctness of the individual. And over
and above all this it must needs welcome the bringing
of so large a part of the spiritual world under the
dominion of rigorous and unchangeable laws.
This relation of Dr. Moberly' s book to modern
thought is, I need not say, a very important matter.
It shears away at one stroke a whole forest of objec
tions to Christianity. It supplies a theory in which
many of the most cultivated minds may well be con
tent to rest. It justifies the ways of God to men on
a scale to which it would not be easy to find a par
allel. I am well aware of this ; and I am also well aware
that the questions which I am about to raise and the
criticisms which I am about to offer are not at all
likely to meet with so favourable a reception in these
quarters. I cannot say that I feel this to be wholly
a misfortune. I have no wish to challenge the theory
for those who desire to accept it. All I wish to do is
to vindicate a place for another and older theory and
to throw a shield, if I may, over those who cannot
readily persuade themselves to part with it. It seems
to me that this is just a case where the Christian
Church should recognize alternative views as tenable.1
1 [This is faultily expressed. The views are not alternatives: see below
pp. 288, 300 f .]

238 The Person and Work of Christ
III
The first question that I should have to ask would
be whether we can expect to make good a theodicy
on so vast a scale. A theory such as that which is
propounded to us seems almost to eliminate mystery
from a large part, and that one of the most profound
parts, of the dealings of God with men. I should not
object to the theory if it took the form of one possible
explanation of those dealings. What I stumble at is
the negatives by which it is accompanied. I mean the
strong assertions which meet us from time to time
that such and such a thing cannot be.
I fall back upon Butler's Analogy. We live under
a scheme of things imperfectly comprehended. We
live under a scheme of things which contains many
features that are different from what we should ex
pect them to be. The one fact of the presence of evil
in the world throws out many of our calculations ; and
perhaps it ought to throw out more than we suppose.
I have the greatest reluctance, even upon what seem
to be obvious propositions of morality, to lay down
laws for the Almighty. ' Shall not the Judge of all
the earth do right? ' is no doubt an axiom that stands
absolutely fast. But it is another thing to say that
we shall always be able to see what is right. The
lines meet no doubt somewhere, but that meeting-
point may be beyond our ken. It is well for us that
it should be so. It is well that we should walk some
times by faith and not by sight. It is well that we
should feel that we are
'moving about in worlds not realized.'

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 239
I shall have occasion perhaps more than once to fall
back upon this principle. But the necessity does not
trouble me. It is one of those for which I am ante
cedently prepared.
I can go with Dr. Moberly when he says that ' re
mission of penalty must have a justification ' (p. 51) ;
but not if he means, as he seems to mean, a visible
tangible definable justification. He seems to me to
pursue this idea to the point of making forgiveness
cease to be forgiveness in the sense that I should
attach to the word. I must needs associate myself
with his own admirable statement of the objection to
his view, the substance of which was already in my
mind before I reached it.
But when we venture to give to the word forgive
ness any meaning of this character at all, we are met,
no doubt, by one or two very real difficulties of
thought. Thus the question suggests itself, if for
giveness (with whatever provisoes) is made to be
simply correlative to forgiveableness; and if to say
that a man is forgiveable means not merely that he
may be, but therefore ipso facto that he ought to be,
nay, must be forgiven ; if forgiveness, that is, is a sort
of automatic and necessary consequence of a certain
condition of the culprit's personality ; are you not ex
actly taking out of forgiveness all that it ever had
distinctly meant? Are you not precisely and com
pletely explaining it away? When you say you for
give, you are merely recognizing the growth towards
righteousness of those who are already becoming
righteous. You may call it forgiving only those who
deserve to be forgiven. Is it really more than this,
that you acknowledge the goodness of the good; or,
at all events, the imperfect goodness of the incom
pletely good? You merely do not continue to con-

240 The Person and Work of Christ
demn those who no longer ought to be condemned?
So far as they are still wicked, you refuse to forgive
them. So far as they are becoming righteous, they
do not need any act of yours to forgive them. In
other words, there is no place left for forgiveness.
Either, in accordance with truth, you still condemn,
or else, in accordance with truth, you acquit and ac
cept. Where does forgiveness come in? Justice this
may be. But has not forgiveness, as forgiveness,
dropped out altogether ? Either there is nothing that
can be called forgiveness at all ; or, if there is, it is a
forgiveness which can be said to have been, by de
serving, ' earned ' : and is not forgiveness that is
earned exactly not forgiveness? (pp. 58 f.)
I waive the point to which Dr. Moberly demurs
about ' earning ' and ' desert/ I gladly acknowledge
that later in the book (e.g. pp. 319 f., 321 f. ; cf.
139 f.) he repeatedly lays stress upon the fact that
the preparation for forgiveness is not the work of
the sinner himself. But I do not think that he ever
adequately answers the objection that forgiveness as
he defines it is neither what is commonly meant by
the word nor what is often meant by it in the Bible.
It seems to me also that forgiveness is not the only
word that does not come by its due. ' Mercy ' I
should be inclined to say was another, and other
words of a like kind.
Take for instance those familiar lines of Shake
speare's — Whereto serves mercy,
But to confront the visage of offence?
And what 's in prayer, but this twofold force —
To be forestalled ere we come to fall,
Or pardoned, being down?
And again —

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 241
But mercy is above this sceptre'd sway,
It is enthroned in the heart of kings;
It is an attribute to God Himself:
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
I do not doubt that in such contexts as these Shake
speare as usual speaks for the popular mind. I do
not doubt that in the myriads of cases in which
' mercy ' and ' forgiveness ' are ascribed to God the
great mass of mankind understand by them simple
remission of penalty, without regard to the cause of
the remission.
And I should have equally little hesitation in assert
ing that there are numbers of places in which the
Bible, New Testament as well as Old, does the same
thing. The very word ' forgiveness/ I imagine, has
this meaning. I should not be surprised if it were
maintained that the word ?rap«<ns means something
provisional or conditional. But that is just what I
conceive distinguishes it from its synonym a<£«rw.
And if we seek for explicit statements, what can be
more explicit than Rom. iii. 24 : ' Being justified freely
by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ
JeSUS ' (Sucatov/itvoi Swptav r{j avrov X"P'T,» &a ""fc aTrokvTpdt-
o-ews t?s ev Xptoru 1r)<rov), where the Greek is even more
significant than the English? To reconcile this
with Dr. Moberly's view, should we not have to blot
out Soipedv altogether and to take away half its mean
ing from Tjj airov x<vi«? I appeal to this passage as
perhaps the one most directly in point, though there
are many others that seem with different degrees of
directness to imply the same thing. Such would be

242 The Person and Work of Christ
(e.g.) Eph. ii. 4-6; Titus iii. 4-5; Rom. v. 6-1 1;
Matt, xviii. 23-35 (^e Unmerciful Servant) ; Luke
xv. 1-7, 8-10.
I do not deny that some of these passages, espe
cially those from Ephesians and Titus, do not stop at
the moment of forgiveness, do not leave the sinner at
the point where he is ' dead in trespasses/ but go on
to speak in the one case of quickening or raising up
with Christ, and in the other of the renewing of the
Holy Ghost. I do not deny that we may also, if we
please, take up the position that the Divine forgive
ness always has in view these further stages of Chris
tian life. But it seems to me that if we follow the
tenor of Scriptural teaching simply, without letting
ourselves be disturbed and diverted by considerations
from without, we shall see (i) that the Christian life
does consist of a series of successive stages; and (ii)
that the Scripture does not hesitate to speak of the
initial stage by itself and without reference to the later
stages. I conceive that most of the places where St.
Paul uses the verb ' to justify ' or 'be justified '
(Sikihow, SiKaiowr&u) are of this sort. I cannot quite go
with Dr. Moberly's note on this word (p. 335 f.). I
believe that in all these places it has strictly the sense
that belongs to it in common usage, and that this, and
no other, entirely suits the contexts.
I think therefore that much of our popular theology
—the theology of street preachers and evangelists —
has really a great amount of Scriptural support be
hind it when it lays stress upon a ' free forgiveness.'
I do not think that it is wrong in the order in which

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 243
it presents its message — Forgiveness first, and love
and obedience flowing from forgiveness. Not that
this is the only order or that the links in the chain
can be ever really separated, but that this is distinctly
an order in which the Scripture itself presents the
sequence, and that it has been found in practice to pos
sess a great power of attraction.
For, further, it seems to me that this order appeals
to an instinct that is really planted deep down in our
nature. There are different types of forgiveness.
That on which Dr. Moberly insists might be called
the ' parental/ or ' paedogogic ' type. And if it is con
tended that that is the type most nearly analogous to
Divine forgiveness, I should have nothing to say to
the contrary. But the human heart is instinctively
drawn to another form of forgiveness that has in it
(as we should say) no arriere pensee, no element of
calculation, but which is simply the pure outflowing
of love; ignoring misdeeds, forgetting the past, and
simply going forth to meet and embrace the offending
and alienated friend. A love such as this asks no
questions and makes no conditions. It is not think
ing either of conditions or of consequences. The
rush of its own inner strength carries it forward.
If it is rebuffed, it takes its rebuff meekly. It sinks
back perhaps bruised and wounded but in no way re
penting of its venture. And if it succeeds the success
is glorious — just the kind of success to make the very
angels in heaven rejoice.
Are we to think that there is nothing corresponding
to this, with whatever unseen and unimagined modifi-

244 The Person and Work of Christ
cations, in God ? Is it only a product of human short
sightedness and imperfection? If we are obliged to
say that it is, would not that mean that one of the
purest and most disinterested feelings in man had no
counterpart above itself? Should we not at last have
found something which the Great King Himself may
not enjoy, though His subjects may? And would not
that one thing be, no counterfeit, but the real distilled
essence of forgiveness? IV
The next great issue that separates me from Dr.
Moberly, without doubt a greater than the last, on
which I know that I have made and feel that I ought
to make so many concessions that the difference be
tween us (except just on the point of the paragraphs
immediately preceding this) might be regarded as
almost formal; the next, and not only greater but
really greatest issue, is as to whether the atoning death
of Christ can be described as in any sense a 'trans
action.' Here again, and here most profoundly, I am
aware that my friend has on his side an immense
weight of cultured and highly trained opinion. I can
not be sorry that he should speak to so large a public
in tones that it will recognize as its own. The only
thing for which I confess that I am a little sorry is
that in speaking of the ' transactional ' theory he
should have thought it necessary to set it in the pil
lory, not only in its extreme forms but in a travesty
even of them. I have in mind more particularly a sen
tence on p. 342, which recalls to me rather by way of
contrast another sentence on p. xi of the Preface as to

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 245
certain ' inferential structures ' — it is the same struc
tures that are intended — 'the most untrue of which
has considerable relation to truth.' Abusus non tollit
usum. Nobody in these days believes in the more
monstrous developments of the past. To denounce
them is like slaying the slain. We do not need these
awful examples. If we were not ourselves sensitive
enough in regard to them, outside opinion would warn
us off such ground. It is an altogether happier func
tion to seek out the grain of truth that lies hid within
the error, to set that in just proportion.
It is of course also a misfortune that we should have
to use these terms ' transaction/ ' transactional/ which
carry with them in the context a shade of meaning
that is naturally repellent. It is not really this side
• that we wish to put forward. What we mean is that
among the mysteries that surround the Atonement
(and no one is more conscious of these than Dr.
Moberly) there is one great field of mystery, with
which we ourselves are only concerned through its
effects and which we cannot explain but must not
explain away.
Our reasons for believing in the existence of this
particular field of mystery are partly because we think
that it is revealed, partly because the assumption that
it does exist seems to us to supply a key to many
things in the history of the race which we could not
understand without it; partly also because by the
application of the historical method it appears that
the antecedents of apostolic thought would naturally
point in this direction.
I remarked some way back on the rather curious

246 The Person and Work of Christ
fact that the dedication of Dr. Moberly's book, which
in a manner summarizes the leading thought of the
whole, does not contain a single one of the terms that
some of us are most in the habit of associating with
the Atonement. It will seem to these that his treat
ment of the Scriptural basis of the doctrine is
strangely unequal. Some of the passages involved
have the fullest possible justice done to them. They
are set in a new light and are brought home to the mind
in a very striking manner. But others which appear
to be hardly less relevant are either not introduced at
all or introduced only in a brief section in smaller
print that comes in parenthetically in the last Supple
mentary Chapter on the ' Atonement in History.' In
this section there is a rapid survey, which is no doubt
very pertinent, of a number of New Testament pas
sages bearing upon the doctrine.
Of course every writer must follow his own bent
and treat his subject in the way that is most natural
to him. It is no valid criticism that others would have
treated it differently. Still the fact remains that we
have stowed away in this small corner what for many
of us would have had a place in the main thesis of the
book; and I cannot help thinking that these parts of
the subject are really minimized.
It may be true that the variety of the metaphors
used in Scripture goes to show that none of them can
be pressed to their full logical extent. But so many
of these converge upon the one idea of sacrifice that
it seems as though we were obliged to accept this idea
as quite central and essential to the whole conception
of Atonement.

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 247
Now, far be it from me to say that Dr. Moberly
does not recognize this aspect of the Atonement as a
sacrifice; but he seems to me to throw quite into the
background certain features which in the writings of
St. Paul and St. Peter and St. John and the Epistle to
the Hebrews are not in the background, but prominent
and even central.
One group of terms in particular to which I cannot
find that justice is done is the group that we trans
late by ' propitiate/ ' propitiation ' {IXdo-Keo-Oai, iXaorrjpiov,
iXoo-yitos). Neither word occurs at all in the index;
there is only an incidental reference to the group on
P- 334-
Another group of the same kind is that which in
cludes ' blood-shedding/ ' sprinkling of the blood/ and
the phrase ' in the blood ' ; the underlying principle of
which is laid down in Hebrews ix. 22, ' Apart from
shedding of blood there is no remission.'
I am well aware that modern thought has a short
and easy method with all these terms. If it is com
pelled to give an account of them it sets them down as
relics of primitive barbarism. But more often it sim
ply ignores them and goes on its way without them.
Dr. Moberly does not altogether do this, but he
comes rather near doing it. Sacrifice is with him the
expression of certain moral ideas, and he tries to treat
it as though its significance were exhausted by those
ideas. I need hardly say that I sympathize with the effort,
which is the better side of the movement of thought
that we see around us. But those of us who start, not
from any -philosophical or theological system but in the

248 The Person and Work of Christ
first instance from the Bible, cannot wholly satisfy
themselves with this method. It may be an open
question, as it is no doubt a further question, how the
Biblical teaching is related to their own ultimate per
sonal beliefs. But before they come to that point they
must resolutely make up their minds not at any cost
to tamper with the facts as they see them. Whether
they like or dislike, whether they understand or do not
understand, their duty is the same. Neither ignorance
nor knowledge, neither sympathies nor antipathies,
neither the attractiveness of one theory nor their re
pugnance to another, not even the highest or purest
of moral instincts and aspirations, must be allowed to
divert them from the straight path. They are like
Balaam before Balak, and what is put into their
mouths that they must say, with all it's chances of its
being wrong, with all its risks of being misunder
stood, with all their consciousness that it is but seeing
' through a glass darkly.'
Those then for whom I am speaking must directly
face the fact that these terms — ' propitiation/ ' blood-
shedding' and the like — have the prominence they
have. It is quite another thing to say that they under
stand them. They are awful words. And when we
try to penetrate into their meaning we soon find that
we have to bow the head and be silent.
But so much at least seems to follow from them,
that the Scriptures do recognize a mysterious some
thing which, in our imperfect human language, may
be described as a ' transaction.' It seems to me diffi
cult for the plain reader of his Bible to deny this.

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 249
But, when we have got so far, abashed and silent as
we may be, there seem to open out long vistas which
at least give to the history of the human race and to
the course of God's providential dealings with men
a unity that they would not have otherwise.
1. A new light is thrown on what I have said that
modern thought would dismiss as ' primitive barbar
ism.' This contemptuous estimate is in fact utterly
superficial, and not less unscientific, in any true sense
of science. Surely the doctrine of Evolution has
taught us not to make light of humble beginnings.
The first beginnings of sacrifice may be humble and
the ideas associated with it may be crude ; but we can
not stop short at these. The eye must needs follow it
down the ages until it reaches its culmination on Cal
vary. If we take what I conceive to be the Biblical
view of Calvary, then we have a true evolution with a
true culmination. The course of things becomes intel
ligible where before it was not. At least we see that
the dim half-conscious gropings of the human mind
far back in the past had a diviner goal than we might
have supposed.
2. Another subject on which the propitiatory as
pect of the Atonement appears to throw light is the
value of Vicarious Suffering.
We may join with Dr. Moberly and the moderns in
rejecting the idea of Vicarious Punishment, except in
so far as this means pain incurred in the necessary
working out of the consequences of sin. But whatever
we may say as to Vicarious Punishment we must not
lose our hold on Vicarious Suffering. On Dr. Mober-

250 The Person and Work of Christ
ly's theory the form which this takes is mainly as
penitence. And perhaps it is true that vicarious peni
tence, His utter identification at once with the judge
ment of God upon sin and with the heartfelt contrition
that man ought to feel but cannot adequately feel for
it, was the most poignant of all the pangs of the Di
vine Sufferer on Calvary. But here again we have a
climax, and our thought must include all the pain and
all the humiliation that He underwent in taking upon
Himself the nature of man.
It is just in regard to this vicarious suffering that
the Old Testament comes in to reinforce the New.
No other sacred book has anything like it. And here
once more the great example does not stand alone,
but is reached through a number of delicately drawn
concentric circles of which it is the centre. The Bible
is the most consoling book in the world, just because it
reveals to us the extreme beauty and value of that
untold mass of suffering endured for the sake of
others which seems at first sight the greatest flaw
upon God's creation. We see at last that this form of
suffering belongs fitly to such a world as that in
which we live — not to a world serene, untroubled and
always in sunshine, certainly not to a lotus-eating ex
istence, to a world that has its sad minor chords, but
yet to a world in which
' We feel that we are greater than we know.'
A world like this can have no other centre than Cal
vary. 3. When we look at the Biblical writers historically

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 251
we see that the elements of this particular conception
of the Atonement were already in their minds. They
not only inherited the great sacrificial system of the
Old Testament, and they not only had before them
the profound teaching of the latter part of Isaiah re
specting the Servant of Jehovah with the parallel
teaching of certain Psalms — scriptures which took the
deepest hold of the first generation of Christians —
but in addition to this they in all probability had dis
tinct ideas, if not exactly as to Vicarious Suffering
(which was a subject developed in the Talmudical the
ology somewhat late and under the influence of Chris
tianity), yet at least as to vicarious merit. Some of
these ideas needed to be purified and they were puri
fied ; but we can see how they helped to supply mate
rial out of which the Christian doctrine was construct
ed. I am afraid that I cannot recall any contemporary
teaching that would in like manner suggest Dr. Mo-
berly's theory of Vicarious Penitence.
V
We now come to the philosophical question which
has caused Dr. Moberly to combine together in his
title ' Atonement ' and ' Personality/ In regard to
this I desire to keep an open mind, but I must confess
to a good deal of hesitation.
Dr. Moberly's point is that Personality, when ana
lysed, is found to consist of Will, Reason, and Love.
But in our present state each of these is necessarily
imperfect; they only reach their perfection through
the indwelling Spirit of God. Dr. Moberly goes so

252 The Person and Work of Christ
far as to say that this indwelling Spirit actually con
stitutes the renewed and regenerated self.
I think that he guards himself sufficiently against
Pantheism, though I could rather wish that he had
stated the distinction as explicitly as he has done in
the case of Sabellianism earlier in the book. The self
is not, as I understand him, merged and lost, but only
comes to respond perfectly to the will of God. His
view appears to be modelled more especially on two
passages in the Epistles of St. Paul. One is 2 Cor.
xii. 2-5 : ' I know a man in Christ, fourteen years ago
(whether in the body, I know not; or whether out of
the body, I know not; God knoweth), such a one
caught up even to the third heaven. And I know
such a man (whether in the body, or apart from the
body, I know not; God knoweth), how that he was
caught up into Paradise, and heard unspeakable
words, which it is not lawful for a man to utter. On
behalf of such a one will I glory: but on mine own
behalf I will not glory, save in my weaknesses/ On
this we have the following remarks —
Of whom is St. Paul speaking? There is one be
fore his thought whom he sharply contrasts with him
self — ™kp 8« ifiavrovoi. Who is it? Who is the ' self '
of whom he will not glory and who is the ' such a
one ' of whom he will ? Are they not both — with
whatever difference — himself ?
Even then the veteran apostle and martyr, who, in
vision, by anticipation, had himself seen and tested the
truer reality of himself, yet means by ' himself/ in the
present, the imperfect self, the self characterized by
weaknesses within and distresses without, and chas-

IX. 'Atonement and Personality' 253
tened by the ' thorn in the flesh/ the messenger of
Satan to buffet him.
As the clear vision of his transfigured self does not
prevent his self-identification meanwhile with the
weakness and distress ; so does not his true self-identi
fication with the weakness and distress obscure the
truth that the transfigured being whom, having once
felt, he cannot but contrast with himself, yet is, to say
the least, something very far nearer than he is to the
true and ultimate reality of himself (p. 320 note).
The other passage is Gal. ii. 20. Of this Dr. Mo
berly writes —
If any one desires a Christian formula for the cen
tral conception of human personality, it may be gath
ered from the words of St. Paul, ' I have been cruci
fied with Christ; yet I live; and yet no longer I, but
Christ liveth in me.' I, yet not I. Not I, and there
fore I, the full, real, consummated ' I ' at last. Here is
the real inmost principle of life and immortality
brought to light by the gospel of Christ (p. 255).
The first passage brings out the continuity of the
two selves; the second brings out the identity of the
renewed self with Christ.
It will thus be seen that Dr. Moberly has full Bibli
cal support for his theory. And the two passages
that have been given are only samples of a number of
others. It must be confessed that this is a strong
point in its favour.
My hesitation comes in rather from the side of
philosophy. I cannot feel sure of the sufficiency of
the analysis which resolves the 'person' into will,
reason, and love. I desiderate something more — the

254 The Person and Work of Christ
bond to hold them together. I cannot find that I can
do without the ' distinct centre of being.' If I inter
rogate my own consciousness this seems to me the
prime fact to which it testifies.
It is no doubt true that this ' centre of being ' cannot
be wholly isolated from its surroundings. It feeds, so
to speak, upon these surroundings, just as the body
takes in from without the food that keeps it alive.
But as in the body there must be the organs to assim
ilate the food, so in the self there must be something
central to correlate and unify the impressions from
without. This constitutes the empirical self, the self
of experience — the imperfect self if you will — but
there must needs be a centre somewhere to maintain
the continuity between the different phases.
This is as far as I can see at present. I am still
disposed to try whether the formula of ' influence/
which I have hitherto been in the habit of using in
these cases, will not best satisfy all the conditions.
The influence may be the very closest and most pene
trating conceivable ; but I am compelled as yet to think
of it rather as influence than as absorption or sub
stitution. It seems to me that for this too there is
Biblical warrant; e.g. St. John xiv. 23: 'If a man
love Me, he will keep My word: and My Father will
love him, and We will come unto him, and make Our
abode with him ' ; and Rev. iii. 20 : ' Behold, I stand
at the door and knock : if any man hear My voice and
open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with
him, and he with Me.' In such passages the reci
procity between the human self and the Divine Pres-

IX. Atonement and Personality' 255
ence is fully maintained. As at present advised I
should be disposed to explain the other passages in
the light of these. By so doing we can keep in closer
touch with mother earth and those realities of which
we have the most immediate cognizance. [See, how
ever, p. 309.] VI
If I am, in conclusion, to try to form an estimate of
the book as a whole, my first feeling must be one of
regret that it should be unfortunate in its reviewer.
Great as it undoubtedly is, and great as he feels it to
be, it yet collides with too many of his own cherished
ideas for him to be able to do it complete justice. It
is true that the accessories alone are so replete with
interest and instruction that, even if there was nothing
in the main argument with which he could agree, he
would still have a book that he could prize most high
ly. But there is of course much more than that. Even
a reviewer whose mind is somewhat pre-occupied can
not help being impressed by the elevated character of
the whole conception. It is, as was hinted at the out
set, a really heroic attempt to construct a far-reach
ing theodicy of a large part of God's ways ; and it is
an attempt that has all the inner marks of success that
belong to a singularly well-articulated and well-com
pacted structure.
As the eye travels backwards over the course of
English theology in search of a work of the same kind
(i.e. in the department of philosophical theology) and
of equal magnitude it seems to find nothing to stop at

256 The Person and Work of Christ
until it comes to Butler's Analogy. But then this book
stands to the Analogy not so much in the relation of a
supplement or development as of an alternative. The
Analogy is based upon a profound sense of the mys
tery of things, but the mystery is evenly distributed.
Whichever way the mind looks it is met by mystery,
and the resultant attitude is like that of the Psalmist
when he says, ' I refrain my soul and keep it low/
But with Dr. Moberly's book the case is different.
There the, mystery recedes to an unexpected degree
from a part, and yet only from a part, of God's ways.
One section of them as it were is thrown into bright
light, the effect of which however is but to increase
the surrounding shade.
And in relation to the Scriptures the effect seems to
be similar. It is one of the strong points of the book,
and a point by which I am duly impressed, that it
gives the fullest possible force to certain of the Apos
tolic and even of the Evangelic utterances. But then
there are others of which this cannot be said. Rather,
the theory by its negations seems to stand in the way
of adequate justice being done to them.
These negations indeed are not peculiar, they are
common to much of the more advanced thought of our
time. We who cannot share them are yet very far
from grudging the help that is given to those who
can. We are only compelled reluctantly to keep to old
paths as best we may.

' the gospel in the gospels ' *

From time to time alumni of the University of the
South find their way to Oxford. And I have noticed
about them, that they speak with even more than the
usual veneration of their University and of its home
at Sewanee in the State of Tennessee — planted on a
high plateau more than 2,000 feet above the sea and
breaking downwards in picturesque ravines and gul
lies. The University has no millionaire behind it, like
so many of the great institutions of the Western Re
public. To all appearance ruined soon after its foun
dation by the Civil War, and a gradual growth from
small beginnings, it yields to none of its wealthier and
more imposing competitors in the affectionate rever
ence of its sons. Indeed there has always seemed to
me to be a peculiar quality about this reverence, such
as we, on this side the Atlantic, are accustomed to see
in those poorer bodies that have about them some
special touch of romance.
Sewanee to its votaries is a kind of Mecca, and it
has its prophet — a living prophet — in Dr. W. P. Du
1 The Gospel in the Gospels. By W. P. Du Bose, S.T.D., Professor of
Exegesis in the University of the South (U.S.A.). London and New York,
1906. 257

258 The Person and Work of Christ
Bose, the Dean of its Theological Faculty, who is
a real sage and seer.
I had the privilege of meeting Dr. Du Bose — not
for the first time for we had made acquaintance some
ten or eleven years before in Oxford — under the hos
pitable roof of the Editor of The Churchman. We
had several strolls together along the lovely shores of
Long Island; and I found in him a seer of the culti
vated, quiet, homely kind, not without the charm of
that self-forgetfulness which is permitted to thinkers,
and with absolute singleness of aim. Dr. Du Bose, as
might be inferred from his name, is of French extrac
tion. He told me that in a long line of ancestry there
was only one British name — that of a Scottish Sin
clair. And yet in spite of this descent, he said, ' I'm
English all over.' Needless to add, we struck an alli
ance on the spot. Dr. Du Bose's ancestry had been
loyalists in the War of Independence. He himself, as
a young man, had fought in the ranks of the Confed
erates, had been badly wounded and taken prisoner,
and reported dead, and had then taken an active and
devoted part both in the literal and in the moral re
building of Sewanee.

There were all the materials here for casting a
horoscope ; and in addition, I had — and ought to have
had still more — the advantage afforded by earlier
works, The Soteriology of the New Testament
(1892), and The Ecumenical Councils (2nd edition,
1897) ; and yet I do not think that I quite expected- all
that I find in this new book, The Gospel in the Gospels.

X. ' The Gospel in the Gospels' 259
I will say what is in my mind at once: it is just
the kind of book that English-speaking Christianity is
wanting ! The world is always in want of a prophet —
we at this moment are specially in want of a prophet
— and here is one !
Let me try to describe what the character of the
book is.
In the first place, as to style and manner. Curiously
enough, as I think over the book, there rise irresistibly
to my mind two passages of Wordsworth that may
well seem far remote from its subject. One is from the
' Poet's Epitaph ' :
But who is this, with modest looks
And clad in homely russet brown? . . .
Not that I would suggest any defect of clerical cos
tume ; there was no such defect. And if the author is
a poet, he is so most unconsciously. There are cer
tainly none of the airs and graces of a poet. That is
really the esoteric meaning of the ' russet brown.'
The book shows a quite perceptible neglect — I had
almost said impatience, if Dr. Du Bose could ever be
impatient — of the ordinary little literary conventions.
There is hardly a reference all through the book.
There are no inverted commas for quotations. Every
now and then a sentence reads rather awkwardly;
sometimes it will not construe at all. Dr. Du Bose
shares with some of his countrymen a certain readi
ness in coining new words, about which we on this
side the Atlantic should have some scruple : ' report-
orial ' (pp. 8, 131), ' immanental ' (p. 47), ' righteous-
ing ' (in the sense of 'making righteous ' or ' invest
ing with the character of righteousness/ p. 123).

260 The Person and Work of Christ
But we feel, as we read, that these are the merest
trivialities, which come quite as much from the total
absence of literary vanity as from anything else.
Really, the style and matter fit each other admirably.
Dr. Du Bose is dealing with lofty, and by no means
easy and obvious themes ; he is obliged to repeat the
same abstract thought many times throughout his
book; and yet he never seems in want of an apt and
aptly varied expression. There is no real obscurity;
if any reader finds any part of the book obscure, the
fault is probably in himself ; perhaps it is too much to
expect that all the world should breathe freely at such
altitudes. To clothe in grave and suitable words so
much deep thinking is no small achievement. The
book bears a stamp of its own, it is one that no one
else could have written.
The other Wordsworthian echo that comes to me
arises out of the subject-matter and mode of treat
ment: When with an eye made quiet by the power
Of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
We see into the life of things.
The one slight change that has to be made here is that
we must substitute some more sober word for ' joy/
Not that it was possible to write such a book without
an inward emotion closely akin to joy. If a note of
elation had broken through now and then, no one
would have been surprised. It is sheer simplicity, sin
cerity and self-restraint. We are reminded of Lamb :
Her parents held the Quaker rule,
Which doth the human feeling cool.

X. ' The Gospel in the Gospels ' 261
Dr. Du Bose is not at all a Quaker, but he has some
thing of the admirable calm which we associate with
that body. The colour of his book is grey, though
we might well expect the imagination that is at work
in it to make its glow felt and seen through the pages.
That it should do this so little is a mark of strength —
of the same quiet unconscious strength that is the domi
nant quality throughout. I hope, if all 's well, before
I have done, to give an example of the highest point
of dithyrambic eloquence to which the book attains.
Even that I think will be pronounced sober enough.
To sum up this descriptive part of my notice. It is
a strong, grave, penetrating book, that would be
austere if the thought were not too rich and deep and
elevating for austerity.
But I must not forget that I have not even yet
explained the purpose of the book and the place that it
holds in literature. It is not a Life of Christ, and
yet we shall perhaps understand its object best if we
compare it with Lives of Christ. We have had these
of various kinds : we have had picturesque Lives, and
we have had learned Lives. The Gospel in the Gospels
does not aim at being either. It is indeed potentially
more learned than it may seem. One whose own work
is concerned with the same subject can read between
the lines; he can see more knowledge of the modern
treatment of it than is allowed to appear. Dr. Du
Bose is in truth entirely modern. But the distaste for
details of which we have spoken limits the influence of
this to results ; it does not let us see the process that
leads to the results.

262 The Person and Work of Christ
Dr. Du Bose calls his book The Gospel in the Gos
pels. It is not a complete picture of the Life of Christ.
It is not an attempt to place that picture in its histori
cal setting. In other words, it is not an attempt to
reproduce and modernize the substance of the Gos
pels, so far as that substance is capable of being pre
sented as it were visibly to the eye of the mind. But
it is rather a sustained endeavour to get at the inner
spiritual meaning that lies behind all such external
presentation. It is a high and serious effort to de
termine the principles at work in the Life of Christ,
to express them in the most compact and abstract
form, and to view them in their inner coherence and
mutual relations. We might call this a philosophy of
the Life of Christ: it belongs throughout to the re
gion of philosophy, or philosophical theology, as op
posed to that of history or criticism.
It might be expected that there would be some dif
ficulty in delimiting the two spheres, some confusion
of their natural boundaries. As a rule this has been
avoided very successfully; the book is a complete and
rounded whole, with its outline well defined. There is
only just one single case that I am inclined to think of
as an exception. The Temptation of our Lord seems
to me best treated historically, in relation to the re
casting of the Messianic idea. I cannot help thinking
it rather artificial to bring the three temptations under
the heads respectively of Faith, Hope, and Love. I
cannot remember anything else in the book to which I
could give such an epithet ; but it seems to me in this
instance due to the cause I have mentioned, the at-

X. ' The Gospel in the Gospels ' 263
tempt to bring under philosophical or theological cate
gories a problem that is primarily historical.
II
The book, as I have already said, is planned in three
main divisions: considering, (1) the Earthly Life of
our Lord; (2) His Work; (3) His Person. This
threefold division is the carrying out of a very inter
esting principle laid down in the Preface. Dr. Du
Bose is very sympathetic towards modern thought ; he
feels that, in view of the present position, a different
attitude is advisable from that which was characteris
tic of early Christianity. The early Christians held
that truth is a whole, and that anything that came
short of full truth was by that very fact condemned
and excluded. Dr. Du Bose, on the other hand, holds
that even partial truth is true as far as it goes — ' that
the Gospel of Jesus Christ is so true and so living in
every part that he who truly possesses and truly uses
any broken fragment of it may find in that fragment
something — just so much — of gospel for his soul and
of salvation for his life.' In pursuance of this prin
ciple the argument works its way upwards; first,
through the lower stage of the earthly life of Christ,
His common humanity with ours, considered as such ;
then, through the contemplation of His Work, as cen
tring in the Resurrection; and so lastly to 'the gos
pel of the Person or the Incarnation/
I am not quite sure that this scheme is altogether
a success. I am much inclined to go with the principle
from which it starts; and the first part seems to me

264 The Person and Work of Christ
really to form a rounded whole. But I am not so
clear that a dividing line can be drawn, in the same
sense, between the second and the third. I doubt if
we can frame an adequate appreciation of the Work
of Christ apart from presuppositions derived from our
estimate of His Person. I may even go further than
this, and raise the question whether it is possible to
attach any special value, such as Christians attach, to
the Work of Christ without bringing in the higher
Christian conception of His Person.
I have therefore a little wondered how far the
leading idea of the Preface may have been an after
thought. But, however that may be, the real evolu
tion of the book is less materially affected than we
might perhaps at the first blush have supposed that
it would be. There is indeed, as I have implied, a cer
tain amount of inevitable anticipation of the later
stages in the earlier; but this is not at all excessive,
and the natural upwards progression of the thought
is not much disturbed.
Part I, which stands by itself more distinctly than
the other two, deals in succession with, The Impres
sion of the Earthly Life of Jesus (chap, i) ; The
Growth and Preparation of Jesus (ii) ; The Divine
Sonship of Humanity (iii) ; The Son of Man (iv) ;
The Kingdom of God (v) ; The Authority of Jesus
(vi) ; The Blessedness of Jesus (vii) ; The Beatitudes
(viii, ix) ; The Death of Jesus (x).
As I do not propose to return to this division* of the
book, I will give a single specimen to show what it is
like. The passage is interesting, because it rather

X. ' The Gospel in the Gospels' 265
markedly — but I suspect quite independently — coin
cides with much that is being said in quarters very far
distant from Sewanee. There is a tendency ' in the
air ' at the present time to qualify the old conception
of meekness.
Men, according to Aristotle, in the spirit and tem
per of their dealings with one another, should be con
trolled by a disposition which he calls meekness or
mildness or gentleness. The term is the best we have,
he says, but it is inadequate, it is not positive or
strong enough. Moses stands out as a type of the
Hebrew righteousness ; he might be said to have been
the creator of it. And we speak of the meekness of
Moses as though that were his distinguishing trait.
But surely we have all felt the inadequacy of the term
meekness to express the character or disposition of
Moses. Our Lord seems to have selected the same
term to express His own fundamental disposition.
Take my yoke upon you, He says, and learn of me.
For I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find
rest unto your souls. And yet we too feel that the
word meek is scarcely the one to describe Jesus. We
feel even that too much application of that term to
Him has weakened the popular conception not only of
Himself but of Christianity. It has contributed per
haps to the too negative and colorless interpretation
of His great principle of non-resistance. ... In the so-
called meekness of Moses there is a lofty unselfish
ness, a great humility, a perfection of zeal and devo
tion, which momentary weakness and impatiences
scarcely detract from. The Law and the Prophets
between them were productive of great types. But
the perfection of human spirit and temper waited still
for its realization and manifestation. When Jesus
speaks of the meek, He speaks of Himself. He
speaks of that attitude towards men under all possible

266 The Person and Work of Christ
conditions of provocation and trial which He had de
liberately made His own and which never deserted
Him under any temptation to the contrary. ... I do
not know how we can define or describe in abstract
terms the peculiar meekness, or what is attempted to
be expressed by the meekness of Jesus. The thing is
ever more and greater, and even different, from its
best expression. That is why God never gives us defi
nitions or descriptions of things, but always manifes
tations of the thing itself  But the interesting point
about the beatitude is this: the perfect assurance of
Jesus that the right, the true attitude of man toward
man will be the ultimately successful and surviving at
titude. The meek shall inherit and possess the earth.
The spirit and temper and disposition of Jesus, be
cause it is the fittest, because it is that which alone
gives true meaning and value to life, because it is the
only bond of perfect relationship and intercourse
among men, will survive and prevail (pp. 99-103).
It would be too bad to call attention by italics to one
of the few sentences here and there that do not construe
('greater . . . from'), but I do so really for another
purpose, as ah instance of the wise incidental sayings
that are scattered far more freely over Dr. Du Bose's
pages. We shall come across others in the sequel.
The passage as a whole may be taken as a good
average sample of the freshness and originality with
which Dr. Du Bose writes. But we go to him espe
cially as a philosophic theologian on a large scale ; and
it is to this aspect of his book that I shall confine my
self henceforward. Ill
It is just a full lustrum since it fell to me in the
Expositor for May 1901 to review my dear friend Dr.

X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels' 267
Moberly's Atonement and Personality. I was led to
say of it that it was long since I had seen a book that
gave one so much the impression of having been really
thought out. It was neither more nor less than a
system of theology complete in itself. I should now
say just the same thing of The Gospel in the Gospels.
And — what is still more remarkable — not only is this
too real a system, completely articulated in itself, but
it is practically the very same system. Rarely can it
happen that two writers, at a distance of some five
thousand miles from each other and brought up in
circumstances entirely different, each following the
train of his own thought and without any direct
communication, should arrive at results so nearly
identical. I know that Dr. Moberly had read an
earlier book by Dr. Du Bose; and I believe — though
I am not sure — that Dr. Du Bose is acquainted with
the writings of Dr. Moberly. But I am convinced that
in neither case does this fact, so far as it is a fact, at
all impair the originality of the development. Both
are eminently logical writers; and their logic — the
logic of no sudden impulse but of a lifetime — has led
them from the same premises, by the same method, to
the same conclusions.
This is very conspicuous over the whole of the
ground covered by Dr. Moberly's volume, which (as
I have said) was remarkably comprehensive. The
whole theory of Personality, and the whole theory of
Atonement in the two books coincide.
Dr. Moberly, it will be remembered, put forward
a view of Personality that seemed to many paradox-

268 The Person and Work of Christ
ical. He held that true freedom of the will consisted,
not in the licence of doing simply what one pleased,
but in the gradual conforming of the human will to
the Divine. He held also that the perfecting of the
Self is not to be had in distinctness or isolation, but
by the permeating and penetration of the human spirit
by the Spirit of God. Both these fundamental
thoughts appear repeatedly in Dr. Du Bose.
The American scholar insists quite as strongly as the
English that the real atonement or reconciling of man
to God can only be completely brought about by this
action of the Holy Ghost. As Dr. Du Bose puts it:
It is not the Gospel nor the kingdom of God nor
salvation to men that they shall be made the objects
only of all the mercy and the goodness of the universe.
Nothing can be done merely to us or for us that will
save us. To be loved, to be sympathized with and
helped, to be shown mercy and forgiven, to be the
objects of the most unconditional divine grace, are
a very great deal. But these are the merest circum
stances of human salvation, they are not salvation
itself. No one saw more clearly than our Lord that
life and blessedness is not what is done to us, but only
in what we ourselves are and do. . . . Therefore, Jesus
quickly and decisively passes from the consideration of
men as the mere recipients or objects of the goodness
of God, of which He was the almoner, to the higher
thought of them as the subjects of the divine good
ness, as partakers and sharers of the divine spirit and
nature and life of love and goodness (p. 66).
Not less uncompromising is the following:
All the reality in the universe can be no Gospel to
us so long as it remains objective, or until it enters into

X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels' 269
living relation with ourselves. Of course, it can never
so enter unless there is in us the natural potentiality of
entering into relation with it. But equally certainly
that potentiality can only be actualized by ourselves.
What is necessary within ourselves to give effect to all
that is true without us is a corresponding response, or
a response of correspondence, on our part. That cor
respondence is, I repeat, not a fact of natural rela
tionship, but an act of spiritual communication or self-
impartation. When the Spirit bears witness with
our spirit, that we are sons of God, it is not only God
who communicates the gracious fact, but it is God who
awakens the humble and grateful response, and puts it
into our heart to say, Abba, Father. ... It is through
this eternal Spirit, which is God's and Christ's and
ours, that we pass from ourselves into Christ and
through Christ into God (pp. 286 f.).

It will be seen that the whole conception of Atone
ment or reconciliation is worked out essentially on the
lines of Romans vi. The death of Christ upon the
Cross was a death to sin, and to all that gave sin its
hold upon humanity. But this death to sin had in it
an inclusive virtue ; it is an act in which every Chris
tian is called upon and is enabled to share. The
medium of this enabling is the indwelling of the Holy
Spirit, through which the believer is made one with
Christ, so that he both dies with Him and also rises
again with Him to newness of life.
All this is strictly based upon the teaching of St.
Paul. But it is a satisfaction to see that the inter
pretation of that teaching is not so one-sided as it often
is. There are some writers who, in laying stress upon
Romans vi, seem to think that they can afford to

270 The Person and Work of Christ
neglect or forget Romans iii. Dr. Du Bose does not
do this. He is careful to balance one side of his
teaching with the other : —
Remission, or the putting away, of sin, includes two
ideas, or perhaps more correctly two stages of the
same idea. It means a real putting away by the New
Testament process of sanctification. But it also means
the provisional putting away by the equally New
Testament act of divine pardon or forgiveness. Each
of these two conceptions plays an important part in the
drama of redemption or final deliverance and freedom
from sin. And the complete meaning of each and
perfect relating of both is no small part of New Testa
ment doctrine (p. 132).
This other half of the process is elsewhere explained
quite clearly and satisfactorily: —
Here comes in the other sense of remission, not as
yet the complete impartation, but already the perfect
imputation to us of the whole holiness, righteousness,
and life of God as realized for us in Jesus Christ.
The moment a human life has really made Jesus Christ
its end, although that end be as yet only the end of
purpose, and infinitely not yet the end of attainment,
that moment God imputes to that life what it means
and intends as though it had already accomplished it.
St. Paul perfectly caught the principle, and perfectly
expressed it in the doctrine which is the root of his
system: Faith is imputed to us for righteousness; it
is reckoned or accounted as being righteous (p. 153).
It is the difference between the ideal and the actual,
the beginning of a Christian's career and the end.
That St. Paul should insist so strongly on this initial
imperfect and anticipatory stage is due to the fact that

X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels' 271
we are most of us so much nearer to this stage than
we are to the other. For us the process of dying to
sin by repentance, of throwing ourselves into the work
of Christ by faith, the struggle to keep ourselves from
falling back, must needs take precedence of that per
fecting of holiness, which will never be complete on
this side of the grave. In practice we are obliged to
start from the actual, and to look at things as they
are ; but it is a great help to us in theory to look at the
process as a whole, to see it not in the light of our
weak and uncertain efforts, but as it is consummated
through Christ in God. IV
The reader who is familiar with Dr. Moberly's great
work will be constantly reminded of it in all that is
said by Dr. Du Bose on the double subject of ' Atone
ment and Personality.' The fundamental lines of
thought are the same; and they are laid down with
equal firmness and lucidity. But the resemblance
between the two books is very far from ending here.
I have spoken of both as containing what is really
little short of a complete system of theology ; and they
might be described as almost doubles, one of the other,
over the whole field. It would be really an excellent
exercise to read the two books side by side ; they will
be constantly found to illustrate and supplement each
other. Sometimes Dr. Du Bose states his thought
with unusual boldness of concrete expression : but the
logic of both writers is equally rigorous and essen
tially the same; and it is sometimes helpful to look for

272 The Person and Work of Christ
the premises in the one of the conclusions that are
found in the other.
I will presently try to illustrate this. But the last
division of Dr. Du Bose's book is so broad and so
strong, and I may add so valuable, as a survey of the
root ideas of Christian theology that I shall take
advantage of it to give examples of the treatment of
some difficult questions where its help seems to me
specially welcome.
I will take first what is said about the mystery of
our Lord's Birth. The extract will be rather long, but
I only wish that it could be longer still ; I cannot find
in my heart to abridge it further.
While the order of things in themselves is always
forward, the order of thought about things is back
ward, so that our last knowledge is that of adequate or
sufficient causes. So Christianity may have rested for
a moment upon the spiritual endowment of Jesus, as
covered by His baptism or anointing with the Holy
Ghost from heaven. But not for long; the expla
nation was inadequate; it was impossible to see in
Jesus only a man approved of God by mighty works
and wonders and signs. The deeper question of His
person could not but follow after the others and grad
ually work its way to the front. ... It says noth
ing against the Gospel of the Infancy as a direct
naive record of facts, to recognize a more or less
conscious or unconscious reason or motive for its in
troduction. It answered the immediate direct purpose
of denying the human paternity of Jesus, and affirm
ing for Him a divine paternity. When we speak, as
we shall, of the motive or purpose in this, it is unneces
sary to think of an explicit conscious intention on the
part of the writers or of the Church. The truth

X. ' The Gospel in the Gospels ' 273
shapes itself instinctively in the mind and expression
of men, so that we often do not know why or how we
say the things that are truest.
I cannot help pausing for a moment to point out once
more what a number of wise sayings the passage I
have been quoting contains, which are general in
their bearing, and not confined to the particular topic
under discussion. It is a real sage and seer who is
speaking. There is no part of the Gospels that has quite the
poetic elevation of the Gospel of the Infancy. And
yet what, at the last, one is most impressed with is its
spiritual truth ; if there is not the true instinct of the
spirit there, in thought and language, it is nowhere to
be found. Now what instinct of truth was it that in
this effective way shaped the faith of the Gospel to the
affirmation of not a human but a divine paternity of
our Lord ? I venture to say, that at any living point
or period of Christianity the Christian consciousness
concerning Jesus Christ would instinctively and neces
sarily have come to the practical conclusion embodied
in the artless and poetical stories of the birth and
infancy of Jesus. The profound speculative question
really though invisibly at issue in and decided by them
is this: Who and What is Jesus Christ, in His real
and essential personality? The answer which this
artless, and yet most profoundly artful, so-called nurs
ery myth forestalls and excludes is this, He was no
[ ?] mere natural offspring of Joseph and Mary. Why
not ? Because the product of every such natural union
is an individual human person. Viewing Jesus Christ
in that light it is impossible to construe Him otherwise
than as a human individual, exceptionally favored by
unique relations with God. The question for the
Church then, as for the Church now or at any time, is,

274 The Person and Work of Christ
Can we, in the light of all that Jesus Christ is to the
Church and to humanity, His universality, sufficiency,
and ubiquity, can we, I say, be fully and finally satis
fied to see in Him only one of the sons of men peculiar
ly favored and most highly endowed? I must con
fess for one, that however confronted and impressed
with the rational and natural difficulties which we are
about to meet in the opposite view, it is equally impos
sible for me not to be a Christian, or to be one under
the conception of such a manhood of Jesus as the
above. And I believe that in so saying I am express
ing the normal Christian instinct and experience of
the world (pp. 211-13).
It goes without saying that this conception of a
humanity which is not that of an individual man is dif
ficult. To understand it at all we need to bring in the
doctrine of the Holy Spirit. Dr. Moberly warns us
that the relation of Christ to the race ' was not a dif
ferentiating, but a consummating relation. He was
not generically, but inclusively, man ' {A. and P. p.
86). The medium of this inclusiveness is the Spirit.
It is through the Spirit of the Incarnate that the ef
fects of the Incarnation are diffused among men.
The nearest analogy is that of Adam — ' the First
Man ' of 1 Cor. xv. 47. But Dr. Moberly points out
that the comparison is far from adequate.
It is valid as an illustration, but remains on a
different, and dissimilar, level. The one is a fleshly
relation, the other a spiritual. The one works auto
matically, materially, mechanically. The other is
realized in a different sphere, and depends upon other
than material conditions. The one is a natural prop
erty of bodily life, and follows, as it were blindly,
from the fact that Adam was the original parent.

X. lThe Gospel in the Gospels' 275
The other is a Spiritual property, so sovereign, so
transcendent, that it could only be a property of
a Humanity which was not merely the Humanity of
a finite creature, but the Humanity of the infinite God
{op. cit. p. 89).
This last phrase ('the Humanity of the infinite
God ' ) is one that would be entirely endorsed by Dr.
Du Bose.
While I believe that there was nothing revealed or
manifested to us in Jesus Christ, save the perfection of
His humanity, yet I equally believe that in that per
fection there was infinitely more than the humanity so
perfected. In other words, I see in Jesus not only the
supreme act of humanity in God, but the supreme act
also of God in humanity {Gosp. in Gospels, p. 213).
Nothing is more characteristic than the even way in
which these two complementary predications are bal
anced and the thoroughgoing unhesitating logic with
which both are asserted. Occasionally we meet
with expressions which would be almost startling, if
they were taken out of their context. For instance
this :—
Our Lord did not do that in our nature which no
man within the limits of his own nature or by the ex
ercise of only his own powers is capable of doing. He
was not holy by nature, nor righteous by the law. The
impossibilities of humanity were as much impossibil
ities for Him as for us. He bare all our weaknesses
and carried all our sorrows. He had as much to hun
ger and thirst after a righteousness which was not
His own as we have, and He did it infinitely more.
If He was actually holy and righteous as none but
He was or is, it was because He was possessed, and
humanly possessed of a higher secret, a truer way, a

276 The Person and Work of Christ
more sufficient power, of human holiness and right
eousness than human nature in itself contains or
human will can by itself acquire. ... He was holy as
a man and in the only way in which a man can be holy.
He was holy by the conquest of sin. And this He
was and did, as we too must be and do, after Him and
in Him, — not within the limits of our own nature, nor
by the powers of our own will (and yet not without
these too), but through His all-sufficient way of per
fect union and unity with God (pp. 163 f.).
This is one of the instances in which, though Dr.
Moberly does not (I believe) use quite the same lan
guage, he yet explains the principle on which it is
used : —
Christ is, then, not so much God and man, as God
in, and through, and as, man. He is one indivisible
personality throughout. In His human life on earth,
as Incarnate, He is not sometimes, but consistently,
always, in every act and every detail, Human. The
Incarnate never leaves His Incarnation. God, as man,
is always, in all things, God as man. He no more
ceases, at any point, to be God under methods and
conditions essentially human; than, under these es
sentially human methods and conditions, He at any
point ceases to be God. Whatever the reverence of
their motive may be, men do harm to consistency and
to truth, by keeping open, as it were, a sort of non-
human sphere, or aspect, of the Incarnation. This
opening we should unreservedly desire to close.
There are not two existences either of or within, the
Incarnate, side by side with one another. If it is all
Divine, it is all human too. We are to study the
Divine, in and through the human. By looking for
the Divine side by side with the human, instead of
discerning the Divine within the human, we miss the
significance of them both {A. and P. pp. 96 f.).

X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels' 277
The American and the English scholar are quite
at one on this ground. As a rule they both keep
closely to the lines of patristic divinity. This is emi
nently the case with regard to their teaching as to
the nature of the humanity assumed by Christ. Dr.
Du Bose more than once quotes Irenaeus ; and he has
striking points of contact with the teaching of that
father, and of St. Athanasius. But in the extracts
just given there is a perceptible difference from the
doctrine of the Two Natures, as it is given (e. g.) in
the Letter of Pope Leo to Flavian.
I have the impression that in this respect the mod
erns have really improved upon the ancients. The
consequences of this re-statement are rather far-
reaching. One of these may be seen in a passage
by Dr. Du Bose, which is as near to a climax as
anything in the book. But I will quote first a later
passage, which serves to explain the earlier: —
The hesitation and reluctance to see all God, and
highest God, not only in the humanity but in the
deepest human humiliation of Jesus Christ, is part of
the disposition to measure exaltation by outward cir
cumstance and condition instead of by inward qual
ity and character. We find it impossible to recognize
or acknowledge God in the highest act of His high
est attribute. We cannot listen to the thought that it
is with God as it is with us, that it only is with us
because it is with God, that self-humiliation is self-
exaltation (p. 284).
That is a kind of boldness that I do not think we
should have found in any of the ancients. And I
cannot help thinking that it is superior to the Kenotic

278 The Person and Work of Christ
teaching of many moderns. At any rate the applica
tion of it which follows is deeply impressive.
We speak of the incredible and impossible self-
lowering or self-emptying of God in becoming man or
in undergoing the death of the cross. Is the act in
which love becomes perfect a contradiction or a com
promise of the divine nature? Is God not God or
least God in the moment in which He is most love?
Where before Christ, or otherwise than in Christ, in
whom He humbled Himself to become man, and then
humbled Himself with and in man to suffer what man
must needs suffer in order to become what God would
fain make him — and the highest and best that even
God can make him — I say where before Christ, or
where now otherwise than in Christ and in the cross
of the divine suffering together with and for man,
where in all the story of the universe was or is love
so love, or God so God? (pp. 272 f.)
V
I hope it will not be thought that I have been too
copious in quotations. I have been very anxious to
let Dr. Du Bose speak — and speak adequately — for
himself. I desire to give my readers an idea of what
his book really is. I have the feeling that a few
samples, which are really characteristic, will be bet
ter than much description, even if I could trust myself
to describe with sufficient accuracy. And I did not
consider myself called upon to resist the temptation to
place a great English book by the side of a great
American. The epithet is one that I will take the risk
of giving to both.
At the same time my readers will kindly remember
that what I have given them has been only samples.

X. 'The Gospel in the Gospels' 279
Dr. Du Bose's book is full of good things at which I
have been unable even to hint. To do it justice, it
should be read carefully, and read through, from be
ginning to end. If the specimens I have given should
arouse in any one the instinct of opposition, that may
be perhaps partly because I have given prominence
to what lay most outside the beaten track. But the
reader may be assured that there is a great deal beside
this which is said with admirable freshness and force.
But the thing that perhaps strikes me most in the
book is the wholly unconscious (i. e. un-self conscious)
loftiness and largeness of the point of view. The work
is that of a serenely contemplative mind — a mind that
has fixed a long and steady gaze upon its great theme
until the outlines stood out luminous and clear. The
writer of this book has had the whole of Christianity
before him. Like Jacob at Peniel, he has wrestled
with its meaning, not excitedly or passionately, but
' in the quietness of thought ' ; and his patience has
had its reward.
I will just give a last illustration of the largeness
and comprehensiveness of view of which I have
spoken. We might call it nothingness than a defini
tion of Christianity.
I would describe Christianity in its largest sense to
be the fulfilment of God in the world through the
fulfilment of the world in God. This assumes that the
world is completed in man, in whom also God is com
pleted in the world. And so, God, the world, and
man are at once completed in Jesus Christ — who, as
He was the logos or thought of all in the divine fore-

280 The Person and Work of Christ
knowledge of the past, so also is He the telos or end of
all in the predestination of the future. That is to say,
the perfect psychical, moral, and spiritual manhood of
which Jesus Christ is to us the realization and the
expression is the end of God in creation, or in evo
lution. I hold that neither science, philosophy, nor
religion can come to any higher or other, either con
jecture or conclusion, than that (p. 274).
When we have thus adequately conceived Christ as
the universal truth and reality of ourselves, and in
ourselves of all creation, and in creation and ourselves
of God, then we are prepared for the conclusion that
we know God at all, or are sons to Him as our Father,
or are capable of that relation of partaking of His
nature or entering into His Spirit or living His life,
only in and through Jesus Christ ; because Jesus Christ
is the incarnation or human expression to us of the
whole Logos of God — that is to say, of God Himself
as in any way whatever knowable or communicable
(p. 279).
We may turn this round and express it, no longer in
the terms of reasoned theory, but in those of religious
experience, as follows: —
Jesus Christ has not come so much to create the
kingdom of God without us, as to create within us the
power to see it. I am come, He says, that they which
see not may see. What He saw and what He would
have us see is: all the eternal love that God the
Father is, ours ; all the infinite grace that God the Son
is, ours; all the perfect fellowship or oneness with
ourselves that God the Holy Ghost is, ours. If all
this is ours, then all things are ours, and all blessed
ness is indeed ours (p. 96).
It would not be easy to end on a more characteristic
or a finer note than that.

XI

' THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO ST. PAUL ' *

America should make much of Dr. Du Bose. I
strongly suspect that in his own proper field — which
I might perhaps describe as the Philosophy of the
Christian Religion — he is the wisest writer on the
other side of the Atlantic; indeed it may not be too
much to say, the wisest Anglican writer (with so
French-looking a name it seems wrong to speak of
Anglo-Saxon, and it narrows the ground a little to
confine it to a single communion) on both sides of the
Atlantic. America should make much of him — and by this
I mean, not so much praise and honour him (America
is sure to do that to any one who is worthy !) as utilize
and assimilate his work and thought for its own
advantage. It should do this just because there are
features about him that are not in the narrower sense
American. He might be described as an encouraging
example of what one American type may come to;
but this particular type is, I imagine, not at present
largely developed, and therefore it is all the more
valuable. It differs a good deal from the type or types
with which we are most familiar.
1 The Gospel according to St. Paul. By W. P. Du Bose, M.A., S.T.D.
London and New York, 1907. 281

282 The Person and Work of Christ
First and foremost — and indeed perhaps everything
in a word — here is an American who is not in a hurry,
as he might himself say, ' tremendously not ' in a
hurry! Not that I am going to blame the American
hurry; it is natural enough and right enough, for
a nation situated as they are. They have a big con
tinent to subdue; and they feel its promise; and it
is not strange that they should also feel that no time
is to be lost in subduing it. That feverish energy is
accomplishing, and will accomplish, great things.
But something more is wanted for a nation really to
possess its soul. That something is wisdom; and
wisdom cannot be had without calm. And therefore
it is that it seems to me that America must specially
prize this quality of calm; all the more where, as in
the case of Dr. Du Bose, it is calm of the right kind —
active and not passive, a quiet self-contained and self-
controlled creativeness, that hastes not and rests not,
like the great Creator Himself.
This quality is impressed upon the opening chapter,
and so strikes the key-note of the whole book. We
feel at once that we have to do with a large outlook
upon the world and upon the ways of God with men —
an outlook large, considerate, and intrepid, strong and
yet dutiful, untroubled and unshaken by anxieties
either without or within.
The ultimate aim of each one of us should be not to
save ourselves from error, but to advance the truth.
We may safely rely upon it that our truth will in the
end be accepted and our error corrected. ... I hold
what I hold subject to the revision and correction of

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 283
the deeper truth of the Scriptures and the larger
wisdom of the Church. . . . There are those who
object to our making salvation, the life of the spirit,
the life of religion in general, too natural a process.
We cannot kick against the pricks, the world has
begun to make the discovery, and it will not go back
ward in it, that the natural is God's way. The natu
ral is the rational and the divine. . . . These are
times — but, let us remember, not more so than were
the earliest and most living ages of Christianity — of
thought and speculation, original and independent
thought and speculation, upon the truth as it is in
Jesus Christ. They are not times of unthinking and
unquestioning acceptance of foregone and foreclosed
inquiry and investigation. The fact may be con
demned and lamented, but no amount of shutting our
own or others' eyes and ears to it will make it any the
less a fact. . . . The position here taken is, to my
mind, independent of any present or future conclu
sions of scepticism or criticism with regard either to
the Scriptures or the Church. I fully recognize not
only the function, but the necessity of both scepticism
and criticism, in their true meaning and use; and I
presume neither to limit nor to define these. But the
fact will always remain that we receive our Christian
ity through the Scriptures and the Church, and that
these are the tribunal of final resort for determining
what Christianity is (pp. 3, 4, 8, 9, 11, 14).
No doubt there is at the present time in many
quarters a disposition to go beyond this, not so much
to appeal to the Scriptures as to sit in judgement on
them, and to ignore the mind of the Church. That is
very largely, the attitude of critical schools on the
Continent of Europe. But I think we may be thank
ful that Dr. Du Bose draws the line where he does;
it is certainly not either narrow or illiberal.

284 The Person and Work of Christ
I
Most of my readers will be aware that the volume
now before me and of which I am to give some ac
count is practically the continuation of another pub
lished about a year ago under the title The Gospel in
the Gospels. I had the privilege of reviewing this
earlier work in the Expositor for May, 1906, and I
will not repeat what I there said. Just as the earlier
volume aimed at giving in a connected form the es
sential meaning of the Gospels, so the present vol
ume aims at giving in like manner a connected view
of the leading or root-ideas of St. Paul. It is substan
tially a commentary on the first eight chapters of the
Epistle to the Romans; not a commentary of a for
mal kind with detailed notes on each verse, but rather
a series of essays upon the epistle taken section by
section, and trying to bring out broadly what is most
central and permanent in the contents of each. I do
not think that we have anything quite like it in Eng
lish: and yet it is just what most of us, or at least
those of us who are general readers, would wish to
do for ourselves ; the professed student needs to study
his text closely word by word, but the general reader
prefers to hold his text as it were at arm's length and
to see the leading thought in it stand out in clear re
lief. It is just in this way Dr. Du Bose seeks to help
him; what he gives is practically a succession of bird's-
eye views of the paragraphs and divisions into which
the text of the epistle naturally falls.
I do not think we can be surprised that Dr. Du

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 285
Bose should make his discussions revolve round the
Epistle to the Romans in this way. His book cer
tainly is a complete and coherent presentation of the
fundamental ideas of the Apostle's teaching; and it
adequately represents and summarizes the main points
in the two earlier groups of epistles ; it also no doubt
made the whole task easier, to be able to follow the
outline of a single continuous argument. And yet
perhaps this procedure is open to the criticism that it
does not quite take in the whole of the Gospel ac
cording to St. Paul. The later epistles bring out
some sides of it — more especially that side which pre
sents the closest parallel to the Logos doctrine in
St. John and the relation of Christ to the Church —
which are but slightly touched upon in the Epistle
to the Romans and therefore practically fall out of
Dr. Du Bose's purview. Perhaps it may be said that
these are not strictly parts of ' the Gospel/ but rather
corollaries or developments of it. The Gospel is pri
marily the glad tidings of salvation; and the whole
groundwork of salvation is fully and searchingly
treated. In my previous review I had occasion to point out
the great completeness and coherence of Dr. Du Bose's
teaching. It is no mere aggregation of loosely related
doctrines but essentially a system, and a system well
knit in its parts and carefully rounded off as. a whole.
And another remarkable thing that I had to point
out was the close resemblance which this system pre
sents to that which we in England associate with
the name of Dr. Moberly. As we were fated to lose

286 The Person and Work of Christ
the one writer before his time, our satisfaction is all
the greater that the other should survive to continue
his work; for The Gospel according to St. Paul not
only takes up the The Gospel in the Gospels, but also,
if it does not exactly take up, at least reviews and
to a great extent goes over the same ground as
Atonement and Personality. It might be said to be
a restatement, with characteristic difference of lan
guage and independence of thought, of the teaching
of that book.
Perhaps one's first thought is that the new book
does not add much of quite fundamental importance
to the old. The root-ideas of both books are the
same. We might at first sight suppose that the later
work was only the arrival of a strong reinforcement
in aid of the earlier, the appearance on the field of
a weighty champion of the same cause. But, when
we come to look into it, we see that there is really
more in the matter than this. The six years that
have elapsed have not been in vain. It is, I think,
true that no new factors are introduced in the treat
ment of the main problem. But at the same time the
restatement is so careful and so searching and so
balanced that it seems to me to constitute a real
advance. I will venture to say even more than this.
I cannot claim to have followed the recent literature
of the leading subject involved very closely; there
may have been anticipation of which I am not aware ;
but to me at least Dr. Du Bose's book seems to offer
something very like the definitive solution of an age
long controversy. Just as the Gospel of St. Paul

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul' 287
and the Epistle to the Romans have been the chief
battle-ground of that controversy, so what I conceive
to be the satisfactory solution of the main question
arising out of St. Paul's Gospel, and his greatest
Epistle, appears to carry with it a virtual and suffi
cient settlement of the controversy that has gathered
round them.
The reader will guess that I am referring to the
vexed question that has agitated the Christian world
in an acute form for nearly four centuries, the ques
tion that will perhaps be best understood if I call it
by its old name, the doctrine of Justification by Faith.
It seems to me, if I am not mistaken, that Dr. Du
Bose's statement of this doctrine, with perhaps one
or two cautions added by way of explanation, fur
nishes the material for a more complete eirenicon
than has hitherto been reached, and in particular for
one that is more complete than was quite possible
under the form in which the statement of the doctrine
was left by Dr. Moberly.
I take upon myself to say this because I approach
the doctrine from a different side — I might even say,
from the opposite side — to both writers. They are
close allies, and I am (so to speak), on this ground
and within the limits of this particular subject, the
enemy. But, if I am the enemy, I beg leave to say that
I shall not only send out a flag of truce, but that I
shall authorize my representative to conclude the
terms of a permanent peace.

288 The Person and Work of Christ
II
It will make the exposition of my meaning easier,
if I may be forgiven a certain amount of apparent
egotism, and if I may go back to an article of mine in
the Expositor for May, 1901, reviewing Dr. Moberly's
Atonement and Personality. In that article I tried
(I am well aware how imperfectly) to state a case for
a more old-fashioned view, and I pleaded that in the
Christian Church alternative views should be regarded
as tenable. In that, I confess, I was altogether wrong.
The two views are not alternatives that can be placed
and tolerated side by side. I still think that there is
an element of truth on the side that I was defending,
just as I willingly and indeed eagerly acknowledged
that there was a large element of truth on the side
to which I was opposed. But the fact is that the op
posing truths are not really in pari materia; they
are not truths that can be held side by side; they
belong rather to different spheres, and the recon
ciliation between them is to be effected, not by pro
posing the one as an alternative for the other, but by
the careful delimitation of these different spheres.
Dr. Moberly and Dr. Du Bose are both primarily
philosophers; the position that the one maintained
and that the other now repeats is essentially a philo
sophical position. In regard to this, and in regard to
the ultimate truth of things, they are both absolutely
right. So far as I took up ground against this, I
evacuate that ground with all my forces, horse, foot,
and artillery. I knew that there was something wrong

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 289
when I wrote, but I did not see where the error lay.
I believe that (with the help of Dr. Du Bose) I now
do see this. The reservations that I really wish to
make are of another kind, and come under other
heads ; they do not belong to the region of philosophy,
but in part to that of history, and still more to biblical
exegesis and practical religion. In relation to the
absolute truth of things, the truths that I desired to
assert are subordinate, and can only be asserted as
such. Dr. Du Bose, I am glad to say, sees this; and
he so states the truths that are dear to him as to leave
room for those that are dear to me. For this I am sin
cerely grateful to him. If his ally had lived (alas,
that he does not, if only to welcome such congenial
aid!) I do not doubt that we should have come to
terms along the same lines; it is just the maturing
and mellowing, and in my case the clearing of the
brain, that where the heart is right comes with time.
At this point I do not think that I can do better
than try to set forth Dr. Du Bose's teaching as far as
possible in his own words. When this has been done
I will add a few remarks ; but in the meanwhile I will
take the liberty of italicizing those parts of the state
ment that are especially welcome to me as keeping an
opening for those supplemental truths that I contend
for. In the case of single words the italics are the
author's. I have described the main issue as turning round
the doctrine of Justification by Faith — of course, in
the largest sense, with all that goes with it. I use
this familiar phrase because it will probably best cover

290 The Person and Work of Christ
the ground and call up the history of the subject, with
all those kindred issues and sub-issues that we associate
with it. Dr. Du Bose does not use the phrase often;
indeed it may be said of him generally that he avoids
hackneyed technicalities, with the best result for
freshness and reality of presentation. The chapter of
his book which corresponds most nearly to what we
might call Justification by Faith is headed ' The New
Righteousness/ The ' New Righteousness ' is natu
rally that teaching on the subject of righteousness, in
relation at once to man and to God, which is most
characteristic and distinctive of St. Paul and of the
Epistle to the Romans. The asserting of the New
Righteousness is based upon the break-down in actual
fact of the Old Righteousness, so far as that depended
upon human efforts after the observance of law.
No _ man who knows what righteousness is, will
come into God's presence with a claim of his own to it.
. . . The Gospel of Jesus Christ was for sinners of
every type save the impossible one of self-righteous
ness. This sense of being received, accepted, regard
ed, treated, as righteous is carried on from the mere
negative statement under consideration to a positive
form of it which gives a new and important step in
St. Paul's Gospel. It is this being treated as right
eous, not on the ground of being righteous, but on the
ground of a certain relation of faith to Christ's right
eousness, upon which is laid the chief emphasis in St.
Paul's system (p. 71).
Nothing can be more explicit, on a point where one
is glad to see explicitness. Those who contend for the
same ultimate conclusion as Dr. Du Bose have been
too often tempted to evade the evidence which goes to

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 291
show that St. Paul speaks of the sinner as ' regarded
or treated as righteous/ and not made actually right
eous. This is further illustrated by the parable of
the Pharisee and the Publican.

The Pharisee who went up into the temple to pray
and reminded God of his own righteousness was not
thereby justified ; while the publican who afar off was
conscious only of his own sin in the sight of God was,
we are told, justified. That cannot mean either that
he was recognized as actually being sinless, or that he
was by act of God at the time made sinless, or right
eous. The term ' justify ' is not in the parable of the
Gospel used in the developed, almost technical, sense
of the epistle before us, but it is exactly on the line
of it, and it illustrates the progress and the propriety
of its later use. . . . The publican is accepted on the
ground of his, at the time, occupying the right posture
or attitude, the only right attitude possible for him,
towards righteousness and at the same time towards
his own conscious unrighteousness. ... It is the at
titude which negatively towards our own unright
eousness we call repentance, and positively towards
the righteousness of God we call faith. . . . The con
dition of possible or future righteousness is the right
attitude or intention of mind and feeling towards
actual present unrighteousness. ... In the initial mo
ment of contrition the only possible and the neces
sarily first right posture of the sinner is that con
sciousness of himself which could not be the beginning
of hatred of his sin if it were not to the same extent
the beginning of a love of holiness. . . . Righteous
ness in us cannot begin otherwise than as an incipi
ent sense of sin and that prolepsis or pre-vision and
apprehension of holiness which we call faith. Faith
is therefore with a divine truth and propriety reckoned
or imputed to us as being righteousness, for it is a

292 The Person and Work of Christ
necessary moment or stage in our righteousness (pp.
72-74)- It will be seen how fully Dr. Du Bose recognizes
what there is of truth in the view opposed to his own.
At the same time he safeguards his own view by
laying stress upon the end of the process, which is not
complete until the sinner become actually righteous.
It is. the end always that determines the meaning
and nature of the thing, and the Gospel is the power
of God unto an actual righteousness of men ; and only
by the way, or in a secondary sense, a gracious treat
ing of sinful men, as not sinful, and of a faith which is
not yet righteousness as being already such. . . . The
Spirit of God, the holiness, righteousness, or life of
God can do us no good save as they are our own, and
they are our own only in our own possession and
exercise of them. It is an infinite initial blessing, a
present Gospel, to us that God does not wait for us to
be good, that He takes us to Himself from the moment
of the birth in us of the will to be good, and by treating
us as though we were makes us good. But let us be
ware of stopping with the Gospel of being accepted and
not going on to the real Gospel of being good. For
there is no other real good for man than that of being
good, of his own goodness. Any other is only a bless
ing on the way, a refreshment, and a help to the con
summate end and blessedness of being what God is.
And let us remember, too, what the goodness is that is
our only real good. It is the spirit, nature, and life of
God, it is love, service, and sacrifice. We have heard
it said, I am content to be a sinner saved by grace.
In the first place, in its truest and highest sense, to be
a sinner saved is to be one who having been a sinner
is so no longer ; to be content to be saved in and not
from sin, to be saved and still a sinner, is no true
contentment. . . . For one in that stage and attitude

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 293
of faith and waiting, it is indeed a present though not
the whole or highest blessedness of the Gospel that
we are already, with God and in faith, all that we
shall be in God and in fact. Indeed, in St. Paul's
immediate crisis of thought and contention, this stage
and phase of the matter is so uppermost for the time
that he almost seems to treat it as the whole Gospel.
He never really does this, though his ardent and one
sided partisans have abundantly done so ever since.
St. Paul has ever in his own mind the whole undis-
membered conception of salvation in Christ, but he is
passionately in earnest in establishing the present
gracious status of believers as already and completely
in possession in faith, though not yet in fact, of all
that God has made ours in Christ (pp. 76, 78, 79).
Dr. Du Bose is certainly not an ' ardent and one
sided partisan/ though he is really more ' ardent '
than his calm and deliberate language might lead us
to suppose. I value especially the last sentence which
I have italicized, because it does justice — and at last
full justice — to the real mind and purpose of St. Paul,
which I cannot help thinking was a little twisted even
by Dr. Moberly.
There is another phrase that I must italicize, be
cause as between the joint position of Dr. Du Bose
and Dr. Moberly and my own it is very important.
The response of the Gospel to the human sense of
actual sin and unattainable holiness is not thehalf-grace
of forgiveness but the whole-grace of redemption and
deliverance. God manifests Himself in it, that is to
say, in Jesus Christ, not as pitier and pardoner of man
in his sin, but as redeemer and saviour of man from
his sin. He is there seen, in all the completeness of
justifying, sanctifying, and saving grace, as at once
Righteous and righteousing or Righteouser (p. 102).

294 The Person and Work of Christ
We note in passing that Dr. Du Bose sticks to his
guns in regard to such coinages as ' righteousing ' and
' immanental.' Attention was called to these by sev
eral critics of the earlier book, especially on this side
of the water. But I confess I think, with his second
book before me, that its author is right in keeping
the words and ignoring the criticism. He is right, I
believe, doubly in these cases; at once because they
come naturally to him — it is part of Kis idiosyncrasy
to be rather fond of coining new words, and these
particular words serve a real purpose in the expres
sion of his thought — and also because they fill con
veniently a vacant place in the English language. We
want something to correspond not only to ' transcend
ent ' but to ' transcendental/ and we also want some
thing which can be treated as the exact equivalent of
the Greek Swcaiow, covering both the sense of ' to ac
count righteous ' and ' to make righteous/
The next passage that I shall quote illustrates, not
perhaps quite favourably, one or two little turns of
expression that are characteristic of the author's style
— he is especially fond of the figure ' zeugma/ and
I am not sure that there is not some slight risk of its
becoming not only a manner but a mannerism. How
ever, it is of course not for this reason that I quote
the paragraph, but because it will help to complete
and explain the thought to which I have just referred.
John the Baptist's preaching and baptism contained
everything that belongs to religion except, as he him
self confessed, the power of it or the possibility of its
realization. As has been more than once said, not

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 295
only the primary condition, but the actual first step in
religion, by which we mean the right relation of man
to God, is the knowledge and sense or feeling of his
own condition, his wants, and above all his own not
only shortcomings or failures but transgressions and
sins ; and not only his sins but his sin. The prodigal
felt not only that he had sinned, but that, deeper than
that, he was a sinner. Everything depends upon man's
own attitude towards sin and his own sin. That
attitude we express by the word repentance. Apply
ing again the principle that a thing is truly defined
only by what it is in its completeness, I say that re
pentance means the putting away of sin. In the first
place it means the actual putting it away, and in the
second place it means the putting it away by the
sinner himself. Any desire or any conferring of only
pity or pardon is only, at the best, an imperfect or
incomplete either repentance or remission. And in
the second place, even God Himself can in the full
sense confer the true remission or truly put away sin
only as He can impart a true repentance or the inward
disposition, power, and act of the man in himself put
ting away his sin. A real aphesis is neither if it is not
both God's and the man's act (pp. 104 f.).
I will conclude the exposition of the train of thought
which we have been so far following with the descrip
tion, which really belongs to it and crowns it, of the
state of peace into which the Christian enters.
The first immediate consequence of the blessedness
made ours in Jesus Christ is the sense of present
peace. It is necessary to make a distinction between
this present peace and what we may term real peace,
— if it be only for the purpose of taking in the gift
of God in its entirety, its end as well as its beginning
and progress. ... To one who is ill and about to die
it would bring great present peace to know that he

296 The Person and Work of Christ
was brought into possession of certain cure and so of
assured recovery and health. .But the real peace to
the sick man is health itself, and the wonderful com
fort and peace brought to him by a sure faith in it
and a certain hope of it is, in a large measure at least,
only proleptic or anticipatory. In a large measure,
but not wholly so. The patient may find in his very
anticipation and hope a real beginning and progress
of the return of actual health, and so his possession
and enjoyment may be not all only future; and the
believer not only looks forward in faith and hope to
the actual fruition of God and holiness and life, but
has an ever increasing foretaste of them now. That,
too, is real peace so far as it goes, and is to be classed,
in theological language, rather with the real peace of
sanctification and final glorification than with the im
mediate present peace of justification. ... If the
worst sinner at this moment in the world could be
brought to an immediate spiritual apprehension of the
full meaning of Christian baptism, what it is that is
made all ours by that divine instrument, assuredly that
act of spiritual apprehension on his part would be the
first tremendous step in the process of real righteous
ness, or sanctification, on his actual way to God. But
of real righteousness, or righteousness of his own, how
little would it be! Of real reception or reception by
actual participation there could indeed be but a drop
from the infinite ocean : but, on the other hand, by the
reception of faith and hope, or of anticipatory appro
priation, it can be all his in a moment. He may in one
ecstatic sweep of vision behold all God become human,
his own, righteousness and life. In that one happy
moment, or in the longer happy moment, of his whole
earthly life of faith and hope, it is not his own paltry
attainment of personal righteousness or life with
which God credits him. Rather it is all that his faith
takes in and appropriates to itself of the infinite and
eternal righteousness of God Himself. All of Jesus
Christ, who is God's promise and gift to us of His

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 297
own divine righteousness, — all of Jesus Christ, who is
consequently also our own perfect actual participa
tion in the righteousness of God — is reckoned, ac
counted or imputed to, as it were put to the credit
of, the worst sinner who by a true faith accepts and
appropriates Him to himself (pp. 129-31).
In the latter part of this last paragraph new thoughts
come up, about which more will be said later. But in
the meantime, what a noble outburst in the midst of
all this severe reasoning, is that ' one ecstatic sweep
of vision ' ! It is a grand expression of that comple
mentary truth for which I would plead.
Ill
When all concessions are made — and in the pas
sages I have quoted there is much that, if not exactly
put forward as concession, is at least qualifying truth
— it will still be seen that Dr. Du Bose, like Dr. Mo
berly before him, is rigorous and uncompromising
enough. Not many pages are allowed to pass any
where in the volume without some reminder that the
only righteousness in which it is possible really to rest
is the man's own actual righteousness, not imputed but
imparted and realized in himself. It is to me a mar
vel what multitudinous ways are found of saying this
one thing in different words. I should have thought
the iteration almost excessive; but I can understand
the wish to drive home this point, in view of the extent
to which a laxer theory has prevailed.
Both with Dr. Du Bose and with Dr. Moberly the
whole weight of character, temperament and intellec-

298 The Person and Work of Christ
tual leaning told in the same direction. In both wri
ters there was and is an innate veracity that is intol
erant of any form of fiction. In both writers there
was and is an intense moral earnestness that could
not be trifled with. Both writers manifest a keen
sensitiveness to the currents of modern thought, es
pecially those that are often directed against Chris
tianity. And lastly, both writers are philosophers, in
quest of a complete moral theory of the universe, and
unable to acquiesce in anything less.
And yet there is another point of view; and, what
ever condemnation I may bring down upon myself by
the confession, I must confess that I have shared in it
myself. That theirs is the better part I willingly ac
knowledge. But some of us could not help saying
under our breath, when the theory was broached,
e pur si muove — in a reactionary sense the opposite of
Galileo's; we felt that after all there was an element
of truth in the discarded propositions.
Suppose one, perhaps not wholly without a sense of
veracity, but yet sufficiently a student of past history,
to be aware that God has allowed a great deal to enter
into His plans for mankind that is not exactly naked
truth as it stands. Suppose one, further, who though
not altogether indifferent to the claims of righteous
ness was yet very conscious of living in a mixed world
in which those claims could not always be asserted to
the uttermost. Suppose one, yet again, upon whom
the ' mystery of things ' weighed somewhat heavily,
who felt that he could believe an ordinance to be di
vine without being able at once to see all the reasons

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 299
for it. Suppose this same person to have a kind of
natural drawing towards the publicans and sinners as
contrasted with 'the unco guid or the religiously
righteous ' ; and suppose that in yielding to this natu
ral drawing he was conscious of a special attraction in
the idea of ' free forgiveness ' ; and suppose that the
atmosphere in which his mind habitually moved was
that expressed in Browning's
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me.
Suppose a mind like this in an attitude of inquiry,
with no strong philosophic instinct and content with
something a good way short of ultimate truth, but in
part a student of the Bible and conscious how much
both Testaments had to say about ' forgiveness ' with
out any hint of anything behind or beyond, and in
part an observer of the more pathetic side of human
frailty. Is there not in these conditions the making,
at least, of a different point of view from that of
Dr. Moberly and Dr. Du Bose ?
I believe that there is the making of such a differ
ent point of view. But I hasten to add, as I began by
saying, that I am very nearly satisfied with the revised
statement of the position as I find it now put forth by
Dr. Du Bose. And I believe that he will accept the
one or two modifications for which I should still like
to ask. I should like to have a clear understanding
that the actual righteousness for which he contends
belongs strictly to the ultimate truth of things. That
means that, for most of us, it will never be attained

300 The Person and Work of Christ
otherwise than very imperfectly on this side the grave.
This is just a case in which we must let
the heavenly period
Perfect the earthen.
We have the admission that, for St. Paul, in the
Epistle to the Romans, the first stage and phase of
the matter, the stage of repentance and forgiveness,
' is so uppermost for the time that he almost seems to
treat it as the whole Gospel.' And the reason is
obvious, because for so many of us it is the urgent,
insistent, dominating stage in the practical experience
of life. I, on my part, am quite ready to admit that
ultimately, in the Divine counsels, there must be
' forgiveableness ' corresponding to the forgiveness ;
but that is a question for God and for His government
of the world, not for us; at least we may be content
with the simple knowledge that it is there.
Dr. Du Bose has touched with a needle's point the
heart of the matter when he speaks of ' the half -grace
of forgiveness ' and ' the whole-grace of redemption
and deliverance.' But, having won our assent to this
as a statement of underlying principle, he will I think
lend an ear to our petition that it may not be used to
the disparagement of forgiveness, which is far too
precious and beautiful a thing to have disparaged.
The two views are not alternatives; the one is
included in the other; it is the first step, the initial
stage in the carrying out of the great scheme of
salvation. All I would contend for is that this first
step is for practically all of us so near at hand, so

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 301
important and so indispensable, that we cannot afford
to relegate it to a second place even in thought. It is
quite true that everything that can be called a scheme
must be looked at as a whole, and cannot be rightly
interpreted apart from its end. But at the same time,
in the case before us, the end is so remote — it con
cerns us really in another state of existence than the
present — that it seems to me even now that there is
some lack of proportion in the relative treatment of
end and beginning. At least we must always remem
ber that Dr. Du Bose is a philosopher, and is writing
as a philosopher. IV
We are, of course, compelled to touch only upon
a selection of points, and in that way much that is very
noticeable has to be passed over. I should, however,
like in passing just to call attention to what seems to
me to be a particularly valuable paragraph on the
place in history and in the Divine scheme of the Law.
This is very apt to be misunderstood, and the follow
ing comments will do more than anything I remember
to have seen to redress the balance.
There is so much said in St. Paul's presentation of
the Gospel of the impotence and consequent supersed
ing of the Law, that we are in danger of forgetting
under his seeming disparagement how much he is
really magnifying it. The fact is that the Gospel itself
is only the Gospel in so far as it is the true, and the
only, fulfilling of the Law. The Gospel is the power
to fulfil the Law. And if there had not been first the
developed experience and sense of the Law itself and

302 The Person and Work of Christ
of the necessity of fulfilling it; and then the no less
true experience of the impossibility of the Law ful
filling itself in us, or of our fulfilling it in ourselves;
and then again, the experience of actual transgression
and the consequent sense of sin, — if all this had not
gone before, there would have been neither truth in
itself nor possible meaning for us in the Gospel of
Jesus Christ. The Law, therefore, was the most im
mediate and essential presupposition of the Gospel;
and the Hebrew development of the moral sense and
the moral law, the Hebrew passion for righteousness
and sense of sin, was the most necessary historical
preparation for the advent of the Gospel (pp. 24 f.).
But in regard to the train of thought that has so far
been occupying us, the leading point that still requires
to have something said about it is the objective ground
of salvation; in other words, the Death of Christ.
On this head I believe that the following will bring
out the points that I should most desire to emphasize.
To go no further as yet, I am convinced that the
term sacrifice and the idea or principle for which it
stands can never be dispensed with. To begin with,
it is not Jewish but universal, and although it has been
and still is undergoing the refining and purifying
treatment to which all human thought and feeling
needs to be continuously subject, yet all future prog
ress in the matter can be pnly in the direction of its
better understanding and fuller appropriation. At the
same time it ought to be finally decided that we are
going to interpret the meaning of sacrifice by the uni
versal and eternal truth of it realized in the life and
death of Christ, and not going to bring that truth down
to fit into the little system of Jewish, or any other in
complete and imperfect human, thought or under
standing of it. In other words, we shall interpret the
sacrifice of Christ by itself, or in its independent and

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul' 303
inherent significance, and make use of all prior mean
ings or uses of sacrifice as only pointing to and not
at all sufficing to express or, explain it.
One other principle or method of procedure I wish
to make plain. As humanity will never be known ex
cept in the completeness of its exposition in Jesus
Christ, so Jesus Christ cannot be known except in
most essential and universal terms of our humanity.
To understand our Lord in any act or situation of
human life it is necessary to understand what is the
eternally proper or right human attitude or action in
that situation. And so in general I would say that
what Jesus Christ did in our humanity in order to be
our salvation was just precisely what humanity needed
of itself to be and to do in order to be saved. We
exactly express or explain any act of His, and so the
supreme and decisive act, when we say that humanity
did it in His person, and that it was just precisely
what humanity needed to do in order to its own re
demption and completion. In His person humanity
righted itself with God, redeemed itself from sin,
raised itself from death. . . . Up to the present point I
would answer to any question of how we are saved by
the death or the blood or the sacrifice of Christ sim
ply in the well-known line of the poet: In His death
our sins are dead (pp. 125-7).
Here there are two paragraphs, of which the second is
both important in itself and very characteristic of the
author's thought. But as it will come before us later
in another connexion, I will not say more about it
now. I might even have postponed the quotation of
this second paragraph, but for the fact that the expo
sition of our present subject would have been too in
complete without it ; and the two paragraphs together
really take us to the centre of the matter.
In regard to the first paragraph, I would express

304 The Person and Work of Christ
the pleasure with which I read Dr. Du Bose's state
ment. It has all the philosophic breadth and care to
which we are accustomed from him; the warning that
we must interpret the lower by the higher, and not the
higher by the lower, is very far from being superflu
ous. And yet I am very glad that so modern a thinker
should not discard but should rather emphasize the
conception of the Death of Christ as a sacrifice. As
one who comes to these questions from different ante
cedents and from a different point of view, I welcome
the more than usually sympathetic treatment of the
ideas I cherish from Dr. Du Bose. He does not,
I rejoice to say, dismiss the idea of Vicarious Suffer
ing, or even the idea of Substitution. . It would be
more than human to expect that, holding the philoso
phy that he does, he should do otherwise than (as I
should put it) try to minimize the force of these con
ceptions. It seems to be something of a relief to him,
having recognized their reality, to be able to pass on
and leave them behind. I should like, for myself, to
go a little further than this; I should like to dwell
upon the place that, if we look steadily at it, Vicarious
Suffering really holds in the nature of things and,
mysterious as this dispensation of Providence may be,
I should like to dwell on the deep pathos and beauty
of it from the side of the sufferer. V
A marked characteristic of Dr. Du Bose's work is
its freshness, independence, and originality. I have
said that it all hangs together as an interconnected

XI. 'The Gospel according to St. Paul' 3°S
whole. Even where he is continuing the thought of
others, that thought has passed through the crucible
of his own mind, and it comes forth as his own. But
in some cases I suspect that the originality goes be
yond this. The following is striking: —
We have then to inquire into the meaning of our
Lord's having come in the likeness of sinful flesh, or
of the flesh of sin. From the longest and most careful
reflection upon the language and the matter of the
New Testament, I am unable to accept the words as
containing in themselves the implication that our Lord
came into a nature or condition which was like but was
not the flesh of sin. I feel the theological or doctrinal
difficulty, but I also feel that that, and that alone, is
the reason or excuse for modifying the meaning of
words which are nowhere else so modified. I should
much rather meet the real difficulty some other way;
or, if I cannot fairly do so, then face it squarely. Like
and likeness in the New Testament do not mean ' like,
but different ' ; they mean like in the sense of identical.
When our Lord was made, or became, in the likeness
of men, He did not become something similar to but
not the same as man; He became man. When He
was tempted in all points like as we are, His tempta
tions were not in some points only and not in others
like our own ; they were essentially and identically our
own, with the sole additional circumstance, which does
not affect the nature or character of the temptations,
that whereas all we are overcome by them, He over
came them. And, humanly speaking, that is all the
difference between sin and holiness. Sin or holiness
cannot be in mere nature or condition; they can be
only in what we are or do in the nature or the condi
tion (pp. 221 f.).
In accordance with the argument of this fundamental
passage there are a number of places in which it is

306 The Person and Work of Christ
insisted that the victory of Christ over sin must be in
all ways parallel with ours ('there was that in Him
which He needed to deny, to mortify, to crucify/
p. 173; cf. pp. 107, 135, 144, 174, &c.). I am not
prepared to challenge the conclusion as a whole; on
the contrary, I believe that it may be defended both
philosophically and exegetically; but I am afraid that
I must challenge at least one important premiss on
which it rests. It is a very sweeping and untenable
statement to say that ' like and likeness in the New
Testament . . . mean like in the sense of identical.'
We have only to think of the formula so frequent in
the Gospels, 'the kingdom of heaven is like, or likened,
unto ' mustard seed, leaven, &c. Every one knows
that ' like ' in these cases is very far from implying
identity; the use is rather wide and lax, and denotes
sometimes even a small degree of resemblance.
Another very questionable statement is the follow
ing:— St. Paul objects to the mediator in the phraseology
of Christianity, because a mediator is not of one but of
two; whereas God and man are not two, but one in
Christ, and there is nothing, not even a mediator,
between them (p. 243).
Surely it is forgotten here that the one instance in
which St. Paul does exclude the word ' mediator '
(Gal. iii. 19, 20) has nothing to do with Christianity,
but has reference to the promise of God in the Old
Testament. On the other hand, 1 Tim. ii. 5, Heb.
viii. 6, ix. 15, xii. 24 expressly affirm the use of the
word in Christian phraseology.

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 307
In the same context exception is taken to ' com
munion or fellowship ' as inadequate renderings of
koinonia. I object to the words communion and fellowship
simply as not going all the way of that unity of God
and man in Christ which is the truth of the Holy
Ghost. The truth of the Spirit of God is the truth of
the spirit of man. The koinonia is not real or
complete so long as the spirits are two and not one.
We have it in its completeness only as the eternal,
personal Spirit of God is the actual personal spirit of
the man.
Doctrinally (as we shall see) this is important, and
I should not wish to question it. But, for myself,
I have always regarded ' communion ' as the exact
equivalent of koinonia; it surely means an actual
sharing in, actual partaking of, or joint possession.
But to say this is not to say that it means complete
absorption, or identity.
As I am upon these small points, I may perhaps
just mention two rather disconcerting misprints on
page 131: line 8 from bottom, 'place' should be
'peace'; on page 22, line 16, 'prophecy/ should I
think be ' prophesy.' Three Greek words occur in
the book, and two of these have wrong accents. As
in the previous volume, there are one or two examples
of doubtful grammar; to us in the old country such
a construction as this would not be tolerable, ' it is not
part God and part we, but all God and all we ' (p. 37,
cf. p. 32) ; we should avoid it somehow, probably by
saying ' part God and part ourselves/

308 The Person and Work of Christ

VI
I suppose that the most really central and really
important of all the problems discussed in the book is
that relating to what Dr. Du Bose himself calls ' the
universal humanity of our Lord/ that property of His
Person by virtue of which He not only represents but
expresses ' the universal right mind of humanity.' We
have already quoted (p. 303 supra) one significant
passage in which this difficult conception is applied
with marked lucidity. I will place by the side of this
another, also very lucid, which I think not only helps
to explain the idea but also helps us to understand its
genesis. All the Old Testament promises fulfilled in Christ
were primarily promises made to humanity, and to be
fulfilled finally only in the general life and destiny of
man. The interpretation of one such promise, which
will do for all, may be studied in the second chapter
of the Epistle to the Hebrews. There is a promise
made to man that, though for a time made lower than
the angels, he shall be exalted above them and to the
head of God's creation. Now as yet we see this
promise very far from fulfilled in man, or in humanity
at large, but we do see it most completely fulfilled in
one man, Christ Jesus ; and fulfilled in Him as head
and representative and forerunner of all. It pleased
God, for and through whom are all things, in bring
ing many sons to glory, to perfect (first) the Captain
of their salvation. The promises are made generally
to man ; they are fulfilled first in the Son of man ; and
then through Him they are fulfilled in all who are in
Him (p. 120).

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 309
We are familiar with this aspect of Biblical Pro
phecy and its interpretation. We are familiar with
the subtle and easy transitions from collective to in
dividual personality, and vice versa. We know how
the ' I ' of the Psalms often stands for the community.
We know how the Servant of Jehovah represents the
nation in terms of the individual and as finding ex
pression from time to time in some select individual.
We know how (e. g. in Ps. lxxxix. 19-45) the prom
ises to David and to Israel pass into each other, and
are finally fulfilled in a personal Messiah. This alter
nate expansion and contraction of idea is undoubtedly
characteristic of the Bible. There is also something
very like it in the Patristic treatment of the Person of
Christ. Dr. Du Bose may well claim to have upon
his side in what he says on this head both ' the truth
of the Scripture and the mind of the Church.' He
also has the emphatic agreement of such a modern as
Dr. Moberly.
And yet such teaching is sure to be called in
question. It is bound to be rejected by all Individ
ualists in philosophy. When I reviewed Atonement
and Personality in 1901 I had not a little hesitation on
the subject myself; but I may be allowed to say that
since that date I have been more and more led to
think that my English friend and my American friend
are right.
It cannot be said that the latter has not the courage
of his opinions, or that he fails to meet the difficulties
involved in them fairly and squarely. He states the
principal objection thus: —

310 The Person and Work of Christ
One says, ' You lay great stress upon the view that
our Lord was not a man, but man. I find this a
difficult conception; does it mean that humanity has
a concrete real existence apart from the individual
persons who are human, and that this Universal be
comes visible in Christ? If this be so, does it not
lead us to a metaphysical Realism, not now generally
held?' (p. 297).
The answer Dr. Du Bose gives is as follows: —
The universality of our Lord's humanity is only ex
plicable upon the fact that His personality is a divine
one. It is only God in it that can make it applicable
to all or the truth of all. And since, according to
St. Paul, it is always Christ Himself who brings
Himself to us and makes all that is His our own, it
follows that, according to St. Paul, Jesus Christ can be
to us nothing less than divine. The concrete universal
of humanity which may be found in Jesus Christ be
longs to it not as humanity but as God in humanity.
It is God in it which makes that particular humanity
of our Lord, His holiness, His righteousness, His life,
valid and available for all ; so that every man may find
himself in Christ, and in Christ find himself (p. 297).
It is substantially the same answer that (as I showed
in my previous article) is given by Dr. Moberly.
There is only this difference, that Dr. Moberly refers
this all-embracing activity more explicitly to the Holy
Spirit, who is the Spirit of Christ and of God. It is of
course only a difference of language, the meaning is
precisely the same. The Holy Spirit is the bond
which binds all humanity together in one. In each one
of us He is present after our measure, but in Christ
He dwelt as the fullness of the Godhead bodily. It
is that fullness of indwelling which gathers together

XI. ' The Gospel according to St. Paul ' 311
the multitudinous units into Him and communicates
His experiences to them.
The whole work of Jesus Christ in humanity must
be expressible, whether or no we may succeed in
expressing it, in terms of distinctively human activity
and experience, human effort and attainment, human
predestination and realization. Jesus Christ 1 accom
plished and became precisely what it was the proper
and destined task of humanity in Him to accomplish
and become. This is not to say that the work of
Christ is not equally expressible in terms of the divine
activity. Jesus Christ means to us, what God is, and
has done, and is doing in humanity. God was and is
in Christ, reconciling the world unto Himself, impart
ing Himself to us and taking us up into participation
with Himself. But God is in us only what we are in
Him, and God does in us only what we do in Him;
and what that is, must be as perfectly expressible in
terms of us as of Him (pp. 225 f.).
The reciprocity is perfect: —
The complete being in Christ means the complete
being of Christ in us. , The branch is completely in
the vine only when the life of the vine is completely in
the branch (p. 234).
I know nothing more instructive than that parable
or allegory of the Fourth Gospel. As the sap circu
lates through the vine, so do spiritual forces circulate
through that Body of which Christ is the Head ; and
life in circulation carries with it the properties of
the source from which it springs.
I will only speak of one more difficulty which Dr.
Du Bose directly meets, so far as it can be met.
Here, too, there is no flinching.

312 The Person and Work of Christ
One says, ' My difficulty is as follows : The agony
in the Garden and the cry of My God, my God, why
hast thou forsaken me? seem to show that our Lord
was as personally distinct from God as we ourselves
are, that His personality, His self-consciousness and
will, was not a divine personality, but a human; so
human as to be capable of losing its hold upon God,
just as we may lose our hold upon God ' (pp. 298 f.).
This is just a case where Dr. Du Bose's thorough
going humanizing (if I may so call it) of our Lord
stands him in good stead. He asks whether we should
wish ' to construe these experiences of our Lord into
some other, non-human experiences.' And then he
goes on to ask if the whole difficulty is not ' already
expressed for us in the very word Incarnation; a
difficulty which the most of us evade by simply not
taking the word seriously, in the fullness and reality
of its meaning? ' He adds: ' In the instance we have
been analysing, what do we see but the disposition
common to us all to find in our Lord's temptation
experiences that are not human, and in Himself one
who was not truly man ' (p. 301).
This is precisely the kind of language used (as I
also showed before) by Dr. Moberly, who deprecated
the attempt so often made ' to keep open, as it were,
a sort of non-human sphere, or aspect of the Incar
nation.' It is a pleasure to me to bring out once more the
harmonious thinking of my two friends. Dr. Mo
berly has no nearer or truer successor than the Amer
ican theologian whose work I have been studying,
more than 4,000 miles away.

APPENDIX A SERMON ON ANGELS

APPENDIX
A SERMON ON ANGELS
5/. Matthew xviii. 10: 'See that ye despise not one of these little
ones; for I say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always be
hold the face of my Father which is in heaven.'
What are we to say of this article of ancient faith
that we commemorate to-day? Does it simply belong
to the poetry of old religion? Was it just in that
sense, and in no other, that it was accepted by our
Lord Jesus Christ and His Apostles ? Or is there not
in it something more than this ?
In any case, the words of my text which come from
the Gospel that has just been read are the strongest
argument we have for attaching a higher value to
the old teaching. They show that our Lord Jesus
Christ did Himself make use of this belief in Angels,
and use it to express truths that were very near His
heart. We know what a tender place there was there
for those whom He called ' the little ones who believe
in Me ' — whether He is speaking of young children or
of those who are (as He would have them be) like chil
dren in innocence and openness of character and life.
We must distinctly recognize that there were many
of the popular beliefs of His time that our Lord did
accept and did condescend to use very much in the
way in which He accepts this. We note the fact ; and,
in doing so, it is important that we should give it just
the degree of significance that belongs to it— not less,
but also not more.
Let us take another rather striking example. You
315

316 Appendix
will remember how our Lord describes the state of the
man who after he has been converted from his evil
way returns to it again : ' The unclean spirit, when he
is gone out of the man, passeth through waterless
places, seeking rest, and findeth it not. Then he saith,
I will return unto my house whence I came out ; and
when he is come, he findeth it empty, swept and gar
nished. Then goeth he, and taketh with himself seven
other spirits more evil than himself, and they enter in
and dwell there: and the last state of that man becom-
eth worse than the first' (St. Matt. xii. 43~4S)-
It is a very graphic but at the same time a very sim
ple description, one that the poor people sitting round
who heard it would at once enter into and understand.
But it does not at all follow that, because our Lord
spoke in this way to them, He would therefore have
spoken in the same way to us, if His incarnation had
taken place in the twentieth century of our era instead
of in the first. We are told that He was made in all
things like unto His brethren (Heb. ii. 17), where
' His brethren ' means in the first instance those among
whom he lived and moved. Nor was there, I think
we should add, any conscious accommodation in this.
We must not confuse the natural and beautiful sim
plicity with which our Lord spoke with the self-con
sciousness with which a superior person in these days
sometimes lets himself down to his audience. There
is a right manner and a wrong manner in such things ;
and we may be sure, indeed we can see for ourselves,
that our Lord's manner was absolutely right.
Well then, the way in which I would put it I think
would be this. There are great truths which our Lord
desires to express, and He gives them that mode of
expression that is most suitable to the time and to the

Angels 317
occasion, most intelligible and most effective for those
whom He is addressing, 'the village-groups at eve or prime'
that gathered round Him and listened to His words.
It is a mode of expression which must be distin
guished from the deeper truth expressed — not to be
despised or treated slightingly, but on the contrary to
be carefully studied, and yet to be distinguished.
It is in that way that I think we should approach
the words of my text. What is here the deeper truth,
the permanent truth, the universal truth ? It is, I sup
pose, that the little ones who believe in Christ are very
dear in the sight of God; that they are very near to
Him; that if they are oppressed or deceived or led
astray He is close at hand to hear their cry and to help
them; yes, and also to punish those who oppress or
mislead them — ' it were better for that man that a
millstone were hanged about his neck and that he
were drowned in the depth of the sea.'
That I suppose we may take to be the deeper or more
substantial truth of the verse we are considering. And
now let us fix our attention not upon the substance but
upon the form in which it is expressed : ' See that ye
despise not one of these little one ' — be very careful
of your conduct in all your dealings with them — ' for I
say unto you, that in heaven their angels do always be
hold the face of My Father which is in heaven.' It is
the doctrine of guardian or representative angels, an
gels who are a sort of alter ego of the believer on earth.
It may be well for us just to try to follow out the his
tory of this conception, to analyse the process which led
up to it. That will take us rather further back still, to
the origin of the belief in angels generally. When I
speak of the origin of the belief, I do not mean that we

318 Appendix
need be involved in the technical discussions which
have been going on for some time, as to how far the be
lief was indigenous in Israel itself, or how far it may
have been imported from foreign sources, from the
Babylonians or the Persians. We are more nearly in
terested in the psychological processes which led to the
belief, or which caused it to take root among the people
of revelation. I suspect that two motives were strong
est in this direction : on the one hand the desire to en
hance the conception of the majesty of God, and on the
other hand the instinct of reverence which tended to
remove Him from too close a contact with man.
When the Hebrew turned his thoughts towards the
majesty of God, it was natural that they should move
along the lines of that which was most sublime and
most exalted in his experience as man ; in other words,
that he should think of the earthly king upon his
throne. In the first instance he would think of his
own king at Jerusalem; but he would be aware that
his own state was but a small one, and his thoughts
would pass on to a mightier monarch, to Nebuchad
nezzar at Babylon, or to the Persian who called himself
the Great King at Susa. The Persian monarchy, with
its more elaborate organization, with its satrapies or
provinces and the provincial governors receiving their
orders regularly from the capital, impressed his imag
ination. This was the type on which he modelled his
idea of God. Our own poet has caught it exactly: —
His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest.
The angels are the retinue of God, His celestial mes
sengers and apparitors whom He sends to and fro to
convey His commands and carry out His behests.

Angels 319
That was one source of the conception; and the
other was, as I said, the instinct of reverence, the in
stinct which led men as time went on to think of God
as further off. At the dawn of reflection they thought
of Him as holding converse with our first parents, as
walking with them in the garden in the cool of the day.
But they soon came to think of such familiar inter
course as derogatory to the majesty of God. They
began to interpose links between God and man, inter
mediary beings between earth and heaven. When
Jacob dreamed his dream of special communion with
God, it took the form of a ladder set up on the earth,
with the top of it reaching to heaven, and the angels
of God ascending and descending on it. This remained
the standing type of spiritual communion with God.
Our Lord's promise to Nathanael was: 'Verily, verily,
I say unto you, Ye shall see the heaven opened, and
the angels of God ascending and descending upon the
Son of man ' (St. John i. 51), describing in these terms
His own uninterrupted communion with the Father.
I imagine that here too, in this view of the function
of angels, there is the same idea of a great Oriental
palace and royal court in the background ; the angels
as it were occupied the ante-chamber, through which
alone there is access to the royal presence, and it is
they who bear communications from without to the
King.1 The leading motive throughout all these quasi-
pictorial representations is reverence.
In the particular picture of the guardian angels of
children, and generally of the weak and humble, be
holding the face of God, another set of ideas is at
' It is pointed out to me that there is a close parallel to my text in
Esther i. 14, 'the seven princes of Persia and Media, which saw the
king's face and sat first in the kingdom.'

320 Appendix
work. We speak of the ideals of things as though they
were distinct from the reality. Plato spoke, not exact
ly of ideals, but of the ideas of things, the divine design
in accordance with which they were made, as though
they had an objective existence. The Jew of our
Lord's day spoke of the pattern of holy things laid up
in the heavens. In this way he came to think of a sort
of spiritual double of those who lived and walked on
earth, a ' spirit-self ' as it were detached from the bod
ily self. This spirit-self had a nearer access to the
presence of God, as purer and holier than that which
was of the earth earthy. So arose the conception of
what we have called guardian angels. The reminder
that the guardian angels of the little ones below look
for ever into the face of God is, as I said, a reminder
how very dear those little ones are to Him.
That is broadly the meaning of the passage. It is
out of place for us to come with our ' meddling intel
lect ' and intrude the question, Are there really such
things as guardian angels, and do they really stand in
the presence of God ? These are crude categories into
which we try to squeeze conceptions that are not con
genial to them. Our notions of reality are too much
confined to literal, material reality. Another category,
that is still rather crude, though nearer to the mark, is
that which we call ' symbolism.' We may say, if we
please, that the idea of guardian angels is symbolical —
symbolical of a truth in the nature of things, symbolical
of something at once beautiful and true that we cannot
express in any other way, but which the instinct of
reverence and the certainty that all innocence and
goodness, especially in the weak, is dear to God, inev
itably demands. For the Christian it is enough that our
Lord Jesus Christ Himself expressed it in this way.

Angels 321
And I think we may extend this to all the belief in
angels. I said at the outset that it did not follow that,
because our Lord spoke as He did to His disciples,
therefore He would have spoken in the same way to
us, if He had come to us in the twentieth century and
not in the first. Perhaps I should correct myself a
little there. I think we might say with some confi
dence that our Lord would not speak in this way to
a Faraday or a Huxley, if He met them at some rich
man's table. But I am by no means sure that He
would not still use the same language as of yore to the
young, to the ' little ones ' — whether old or young, to
' village-groups at eve or prime.'
And he would be a bold man — or rather, a very dull
and senseless man — who should take upon himself to
say that the language used to the man of science was
true, and that used to the poor and simple untrue.
Both modes of speech would be equally true in their
context. Perhaps I can illustrate the different language
suitable in these different connexions by the help of
two poems, one mediaeval and one modern. The first
is from a translation in measured prose of an old
Irish poem put in the mouth of St. Columba, and
celebrating the praise of the chief foundations of his
order. The poet has a touching love for his own
home at Derry. Were the tribute of all Alba mine,
From its centre to its border,
I would prefer the site of one house
In the middle of fair Derry.
The reason I love Derry is
For its quietness, for its purity,
And for its crowds of white angels,
From the one end to the other.

322 Appendix
The reason why I love Deny is
For its quietness, for its purity,
Crowded full of heaven's angels
Is every leaf of the oaks of Derry.
My Derry, my little oak-grove,
My dwelling, and my little cell;
O Eternal God, in heaven above,
Woe be to him who violates it!
The delight of the poet in his little cell is a feeling
partly natural and partly religious. It is in part a
natural attachment to a cherished home, but it is even
more a sense of consecration, of God's presence brood
ing over it. And then the feeling of reverence comes
in ; the poet checks himself from thinking or speaking
too freely of the presence of the Almighty; but he
has less scruple in thinking or speaking about angels,
and he feels their presence all about him. Observe
how beautifully his ideas harmonize together and
blend into a single picture of sanctity.
The reason I love Derry is
For its quietness, for its purity,
And for its crowds of white angels,
From the one end to the other.
The reason why I love Derry is
For its quietness, for its purity,
Crowded full of heaven's angels
Is every leaf of the oaks of Derry.
Quietness and purity are naturally associated with
angelic visitation.
The modern poem that I have in my mind is famil
iar to all lovers of poetry. It, too, turns upon a
sense of consecration ; but you will see that the angels
have dropped out, and the instinct of reverence is

Angels 323
satisfied in another way ; the feeling of a divine pres
ence is hinted at and implied all through, but it is
nowhere directly described; it is rather suggested
through its effect upon the human soul (as in the
' figure of the nun). I am referring to Wordsworth's
well-known sonnet.
It is a beauteous evening, calm and free;
The holy time is quiet as a nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven is on the Sea:
Listen! the mighty being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder — everlastingly.
Dear child! dear girl! that walkest with me here
If thou appear untouch'd by solemn thought
Thy nature is not therefore less divine:
Thou liest in Abraham's bosom all the year,
And worship'st at the Temple's inner shrine,
God being with thee when we know it not.
The personifications, or quasi-personifications, in
which the ancients delighted have become less con
genial to the modern mind. We are aware that the
white figures with wings, and Michael with his sword
and plume, that we see in picture-books or on our
walls are conventional representations that have no
exact counterpart on earth or in the sky. But none
the less we believe that they were an effort to express
a true idea. The true idea is that the space around
us and above us is not merely blank or vacant, but
full of God's presence. His watchful care reaches
to us and sustains and protects us every one. It is
possible that for this purpose He makes use of some

324 Appendix
intermediate forms of being. But whether that is so
or not, we cannot tell. Any language that we allowed
ourselves to use on that head could only be the lan
guage of symbol. Science I suppose has brought to
light that the space that we used to think blank is
really filled with an almost infinitely attenuated ether.
There may perhaps be something corresponding to
that in the world of spirits. We believe that those
who have gone from us look down upon us at our
earthly tasks even now ; and there may be other spir
itual existences besides theirs. What we lack is the
sense to discern them. We are like Elisha's servant
at Dothan, waiting for our eyes to be opened so that
we may see the chariots of fire and the horses of fire.
What may be revealed to us some day we do not
know; but one thing we do know. We do know that
a deep truth underlies our Lord's words about the
angels of the little ones who behold the face of their
Father who is in heaven.
And it is most, interesting to note that the modern
poet has really caught this same truth. He certainly
had not our Lord's words in his mind. It was a
discovery that he made for himself — that it is a privi
lege of childhood, of true childhood, to have God
always at hand, to feel the presence of the other
world, without making any outwardly visible sign.
In other words, to say that childhood worships at the
inner shrine, that it lives in the full light of God's
favour and God's blessing while we know it not, is
but the equivalent in modern language of the picture
which our Lord draws of the guardian angels with
upturned faces before the Throne.

INDEX

Abbott, Edwin A., 40 f.
Absalom, Revolt of, 18.
Acts, Criticism of, 162 ff., 168 ff.,
212 ff.
Allen, W. C, 173.
Angels, 315-25.
Apocalypses, 20 ff., 47 ff., 52 f.,
108.
Apocalyptic, 30, 32 f., 46 ff., 108-
18, 126.
Apollonius of Tyana, 206 f., 209.
Arnold, M., 224 f.
Asceticism, 63.
Atonement, 231 f., 244-51, 268 ff.
Augustine, St., quoted, 216, 223.
Baldensperger, 48, 53 ff., 78.
Baptism, The, 119, 132 f., 272.
Baptism: see Sacraments.
Bebb, 163.
Beth, 177.
Beyschlag, 91.
Bousset, 50 f., 63 f., 75 f., 91, 177,
179-92.
Burkitt, 59, 95 f., 99.
Butler's Analogy, 238, 255 f.
Cambridge'&Theology, 39 f.
Charles, 39, 47.
Chase, 163.
Chiliasts, 114.
Christianity defined, 279 f.
Christlieb, M., 177.
Christology, 89, 129, 184, 233 f.,
2O3 ff., 272 ff.
Collective use, 195, 309.
Communion, 307.
Continuity, 182.

Cosmogony, 16 ff.
Covenant, 14 f.
Creeds, 178, 187 f.
Cross, Cry on the, 87.

Dalman, 65 ff.
David, Son of, 137.
Decalogue, 19.
Development in Jesus, 92, 96 f.
Dillmann, 47.
Dreams, 7 f., 21.
Driver, 66 f .
Du Bose, 152, 157, 257-312.
Dyce, W., R.A., v, 29.

Early Church, 157, 159.
Edersheim, 48, 91.
Elijah, 31 ff., 79, 85, nof., 2iof.
Elisha, 210 f.
English Theology, 38 ff., 146 ff.,
163, 255 f.
Eschatology, 46, 62 ff., 77 f., 87, 89,
97-101, 104-7, in— 18, 119-22,
138, 160.
Esoteric: see Mystery, Secret, 126.
Exodus, The, 18, 210 f.
Exorcism, 24, in.
Ezekiel, 28, no, 212.

Faith-healing, 222.
Fatherhood of God, 130-3, 234.
First Man, 233, 274 f.
Five Thousand, Feeding of the,
104 ff.
Folklore, 18, 210 f.
Forerunner, 59, 63, 79.

325

326

Index

Forgiveness, 235 ff., 239-44, 270,
290-300.
Fourth Gospel, 106 ff., 133, 137-9,
141, 221.

Garrod, 79.
German Theology, 37 1, 41 f., 123,
162, 187 ff.
Godhead, Representation of, 9 ff.,
19 f., 211.
Gospels, Trustworthiness of, iooff.,
125, 213, 220 ff.
Griitzmacher, R. H., 177.

Harnack, 62, 76, 154, 161-6,
168 ff.
Harris, Rendel, 47.
Hase, 104.
Hastings, 40.
Hatch, 41.
Haussleiter, 179 ff.
Hawkins, Sir John C, 39, 163.
Headlam, 163.
Herrmann, 177.
Hilgenfeld, 47.
Historians, Hebrew, 15 ff.
Hobart, 163.
Holtzmann, H. J., 90 f., 104, 193 f.
Holtzmann, 0., 91.
Humanitarian, 109.
Humanity, 127, 184, 303, 308-12.
— of Christ, 184 f., 233, 263,
273 ff., 308-12.
Humiliation of Christ, 277 f.

Illingworth, 152.
Immanence, 153.
Incarnation, 232 ff., 276, 305, 312,
316,321.
Inge, 152.
Inspiration, 16, 187, 205, 210.
Interimsethik, 58, 161.
Issel, 56.

James, 39, 47.
Jesus Christ, Deity of, 1 19-41,
179 f., 185, 189 ff.
— Human character of, 140 f.
Jewish Church (temp. Chr.), 51 f.
Jewish scholars, 49 ff.
John the Baptist, 31 ff., 79, 84 f.,
nof., 119.
Jonah, 212.
Josephus, 100.
Judaism, 49 ff., 60 f., 99, 161.
Jiilicher, 72, 82, 155, 166-71.
Justification, 242, 287-304.
Kaftan, J., 115 f., 175 f.
Kaftan, Th., 175 ff., 180 ff.
Kautzsch, 65.
Keim, 90.
Kenotic teaching, 277 f.
Kingdom of Heaven (or of God),
56, 58 ff., 115 ff., 119 ff., 121 f.,
i59 *•
— secret of the, 78, 80 ff.
Knowling, 163.
Koinonia, 307.
Last Supper: see Sacraments.
Law, 301 f.
— Giving of the, 18 ff., 210 f.
Liberal Theology, 90 ff., 175,
179 ff., 197, 200.
Lietzmann, 65 ff., 101.
Lightfoot, 163.
'Like'inN. T.,305f.
Lives of Christ, 90 f., 261.
Logos, 138, 279 f.
Luke, St., 133, 164 ff., 168 ff., 215-
19.
Magic, 207 ff.
Mar an atha, 113.
Marcan hypothesis, 94.
Mediator, 306.
Meekness, 265 f.

Index

327

Mercy, 240 f.
Messiah, 87, 123, 134-7, 158, 189-
94.
— Woes of the, 83.
MeSsiahship, secret of, 69 ff., 78 ff.,
119 ff., 121.
Messianic Feast, 104 f.
Meyer, A., 65 f.
Milligan, 9, 60.
Ministry, duration of our Lord's,
97 ff-
Miracles, 102 ff., 203-26.
Moberly, 41, 152, 229-56, 267 f.,
274 ff., 276, 285 ff., 288-312.
Modernism, 103, 237, 263, 316 f.,
321.
Moffatt, 149, 163.
Mystery, 78 ff., 121, 238 f., 245,
256 : see Messiahship, secret of.
Mysticism, 153.
Natural, 283.
Nestorianism, 234.
New Testament, 187, 206, 212-26.
New Theology, 149-54.
Noldeke, 65.
Northern Journey, 85 f., 96.
Occultation, 136.
OldTestament, 180 f., 187, 209-12.
Oxford Theology, 39 ff.
Paedagogic, 92.
Pantheism, 252.
Parables, 25 f., 72.
Passion, Predictions of, 73, 93,
120: see also Suffering.
Patristic Theology, 277, 309.
Paul, St., 112 ff., 131 ff., 213 ff.,
219, 284-312.
Penitence, 235 f.
Pentecost, 115 ff., 122, 236.
Person, 233.
Personality, 251-5, 267.
Peter's Confession, 78, 80, 120.

Philo, 139.
Philosophy, 251 ff., 262 f.
Philostratus, 206 f.
Political ideal, 61, 81 f., 93, 99 f.,
158-
Positive Movement, 1 75 ff.
Prayer, Answers to, 204 f .
Prediction: see Prophecy, Passion.
Prophecy, 22 f., 118: see Passion.
Prophet, Jesus as, 84 f., 97 ff.
Prophets, 4 ff., 211 f.
Propitiation, 247 ff.
Psychology, 94 ff.
Punishment, 235.
Rabbinism, 48 ff., 62 ff., in, 126,
251.
Rackham, 163.
Ramsay, Sir W. M., 163, 171 f.,
207 f.
Rationalism, 102, 161.
Realism, 108 f., no.
Redemption, 58, 96.
Remission : see Forgiveness.
Renan, 90.
Repentance, 84, 271.
Resurrection, The, 73, 75 f., 132.
Ritschl, 153.
Robinson, J. A. (Dean of West
minster), 40.
Rushbrooke, 40.
Sabatier, A., 153.
Sabellianism, 233.
Sacraments, 105 f.
Sacrifice, 14 f., 246 ff., 302 ff.
Salmon, 149, 156, 163, 172 f.
Satan, 29, no.
— Fall of, 30 f., in.
Scepticism, 76, 157, 283.
Schenkel, 90, 104.
Schmidt, P. W., 91.
Schmiedel, 131.
Schmoller, 56.

328

Index

Schiirer, 61 f., 163 f.
Schweitzer, 42 f., 44 ff., 59 f., 68 f.,
77-89, 91-106, 108, 137, 159,
167 f.
Scott, E. F., 148 f.
Secret: see Messiahship, Kingdom,
Suffering.
Seeberg, R., 176 ff., 180, 183 ff.
Silence, Injunctions of , 72, 120 f.
Simplification, 187.
Sinful flesh, 305 f.
Soden, Freiherr von, 62, 91, 155.
Soltau, 155.
Son of David, 137.
Son of God, 87, 123, 130-3, 137 f.,
234.
Son of Man, 59, 65 ff., 87, 100 f.,
123-30, 159, 190-6.
South, University of (U.S.A.),
257 f-
Spirit, Holy, 115 ff., 122, 182,
233 ff., 236, 274, 292, 310.
Steinmann, 42 ff.
Strauss, 90, 101 f.
Suffering, Secret of, 78, 83, 121.
Supernatural, 61, 64, 77, 79, 102.
Swete, 40.
Symbolism defined, 3 f., cf. n f.,
i7>39. 321-
Synoptic Problem, 39 f., 155 ff.,
164 ff., 171 ff.
Talmud : see Rabbinism.
Teacher, Jesus as, 84, 97 ff., 159.

Temptation, The, 27 ff., 109 f.,
262 f.
Theodicy, 238, 255.
Theophany: see Godhead.
Tissot, 29.
Titius, 173.
Transaction, 236 f., 244 f.
Transfiguration, 86.
Trinity, 232 ff.
Tritheism, 233.
Turner, C. H., 39.
Twelve, Mission of the, 83 ff.
Two Natures, 234, 277.
Vermittelungstheologie, 183.
Versions, The, 39.
Vicariousness, 249-51, 304.
Virgin Birth, 272 ff.
Visions, 7 ff., 21 f.
Weinel, 42 f., 179.
Weiss, B., 56,91, 155, 173 f.
Weiss, J., 56 ff., 63 f., 76, 78, 101,
155-
Weizsacker, 91, 104.
Wellhausen, 60 ff., 65 f., 95, 97,
101, 154-61.
Wernle, 62, 91, 155, 179.
Worship, Hebrew, 12 ff.
Wrede, 69 ff., 86, 91, 94.
Wright, A., 40.
Zimmermann, 155.