{"collection":"scripture-revelation","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_56279/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_56279","id":"gutenberg_56279","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56279","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Religious","Category: Religion/Spirituality","Christianity -- Origin"],"text":"THE ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT OF\n\n  CHRISTIAN DOGMA\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n\n  ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT\n\n  OF\n\n  CHRISTIAN DOGMA\n\n\n  AN ESSAY\n\n  _IN THE SCIENCE OF HISTORY_\n\n\n  BY\n\n  CHARLES A. H. TUTHILL\n\n\n  LONDON\n\n  KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH & CO., 1, PATERNOSTER SQUARE\n\n  1888\n\n\n(_The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved._)\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  CHAPTER                                          PAGE\n\n\n       INTRODUCTION                                   1\n\n    I. THE FOUNDATION OF MONOTHEISM                   4\n\n   II. THE MESSIANIC FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIANITY      33\n\n  III. THE CHRISTIANITY OF CHRIST                    65\n\n   IV. JEWISH CHRISTIANITY                           93\n\n    V. PAGAN CHRISTIANITY                           112\n\n   VI. CATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT CHRISTIANITY         142\n\n  VII. THE PERMANENCE OF DOGMATIC RELIGION          160\n\n\n\n\n  THE\n\n  ORIGIN AND DEVELOPMENT\n\n  OF\n\n  CHRISTIAN DOGMA.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION.\n\n\nIf we compare Christianity with the other dogmatic religions of the\nworld, we are at once struck by a feature peculiar to it, namely,\nthe complexity of its doctrinal system. A glance at the Athanasian\nCreed is sufficient to show that this peculiarity results from the\nexistence of fundamental inconsistencies in the dogmas of Christianity.\nSuch inconsistencies are not found in other religions, whether, like\nMohammedanism, they have at once sprung into full maturity at the time\nof their creation, or whether, like Judaism, they have passed through a\nlong and slow process of development. The inconsistencies of Christian\ndoctrine clearly cannot be ascribed to the necessary tendencies of\nthe evolution of dogmatic religion; they must be due to special\ncircumstances connected with the history of Christianity.\n\nWhat these circumstances were there is no difficulty in ascertaining.\nThe fully developed dogmatic system of Christianity is the product\nof the union of two opposite streams of religious tendency. From\nthe collision of the monotheism of Judaism with the polytheism of\nPaganism the inconsistencies of its doctrines have sprung. In the\ndoctrine of the Trinity, which takes up so much of the Athanasian\nCreed, we have the clearest evidence of this. But, in reality, the\nwhole of Christianity is pervaded by the contradictions inseparable\nfrom the combination in it of the characteristics of monotheistic and\npolytheistic religion. This combination is the source of its unique\npower; it thus can satisfy both the higher and the lower class of\nreligious instincts; but its complex and confused theology is also an\ninevitable result.\n\nThe distinctive feature of the doctrinal system of Christianity can\nthus be readily explained by a reference to the conditions of its\norigin. To investigate in detail, by the same method of historical\ninquiry, the causes which produced its separate dogmas, is the object\nof this essay. The origin of the earlier ones must be traced through\nthe history of Judaism; the later ones were Pagan, but they were\ngrafted on a Jewish stock. Starting from primary religious ideas, we\nhave to examine the growth and modification of theological dogma. Our\nstudy, accordingly, will take us over the whole period of history.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\nTHE FOUNDATION OF MONOTHEISM.\n\n\nAt the time of the birth of Christianity, only in one portion of the\nRoman world could a new and pure religion have arisen. The fusion of\nthe empire had, by destroying their national basis, fatally weakened\nthe Pagan religions; so far as real feeling was concerned, they had\npassed into the hands of the ignorant classes exclusively, and had\nlost the vitality in which alone the higher religious forces can\ngerminate. Philosophies, resting on a common basis of contempt of the\npopular polytheism, were the refuge of the more enlightened. Between\nphilosophers and those who still believed in the power of the ancient\ngods there existed a vast mass of people who had religious instincts\nwith no sure means of satisfying them, ripe subjects for the new\nreligion which they looked for but could not originate. At this time,\nthroughout the Pagan world, a high and systematic morality could\nonly be reared on an intellectual basis which destroyed sympathy\nwith common men; in no part of it could have been developed the pure\nenthusiasm needed for the founding of a great religion.\n\nOne region of the empire alone was free from the symptoms of religious\ndecay. In the small district of Palestine, with many offshoots\nscattered over the world, lived a people who professed a religion of\nthe purest type. And this religion was not a lightly held philosophical\ntheory; its adherents clung to it with a passionate tenacity, and\nwere ever ready to face martyrdom in its defence. It was a pure\nmonotheism, and morality was inculcated by it, indeed, maintained by\nit, in the strongest and most effective fashion. With justice Josephus\ncould assert that Greek philosophers only followed the example of his\ncountrymen, and taught doctrines which the Jewish sacred law had made\npractical realities.[1] For Judaism was not an esoteric creed which\nonly the more cultured Jews fully understood; the lowest of the people\ngrasped its principles, abhorred the idea of polytheism, detested even\nthe smallest advance towards idolatry, and regarded every sin as a\nviolation of divine decrees. Such a religion, pure and strongly held,\nwas fit to be the parent of a noble religious system. In it originated\nthe earliest doctrines of the religion which now sprang from it and\nconquered the Roman world. And as Judaism was in a special sense a\nnational religion, its development must be examined in the history of\nthe Jewish people.\n\n\nWe cannot, with any approach to historical certainty, assert more\nrespecting the social and political condition of the first known\nancestors of the Jews, than that they belonged to a race of nomad\ntribes wandering in the district which, roughly speaking, lies between\nEgypt and Palestine. In endeavouring to ascertain the religious ideas\nof this race, we may safely assume that the character of their religion\nwas determined by the circumstances of their position. Living in a\nregion which is either desert or barren and unprofitable land, the\nsofter influences of nature could not affect them. The terror of nature\nwould fascinate them; lightning and tempest would speak to them of\ntheir gods, and from the harshness of their surroundings they would\nderive the gloomiest impressions of the powers of the supernatural\nworld. Their religion would be essentially a religion of fear.[2]\nHaving little to deify on the earth around them, their mythology\nwould be based on the phenomena of the sky. Sun and moon and stars\nwould be their divinities, and to these they would ascribe jealous\nand implacable tempers. This sternness of their religion would carry\nwith it many advantages. Their deities would be more majestic, more\nremoved from themselves, than the gods of happier peoples, and the\nhumility they would feel in worship would have within it the seeds of a\nhigher religious development. A still more important feature of their\nmythology would be its narrowness. The poverty of their environment\nwould cause their gods to be few and limited in number. No fresh\ndivinities would discredit the older ones and reveal the weakness of\ntheir theology. And this would be likely to produce a serious effect on\nthe outward form of their religion.\n\nWhenever a common polytheism is professed by peoples politically\nseparate, there is a tendency to localise deities. Now a large\nmythology throws great difficulties in the way of this tendency. If\nthere are many gods, each one individually is too unimportant to be\nthe divinity of a people, and the political divisions of course being\nfew, after every tribe or state has appropriated a deity, a surplus is\nleft with no particular duty to discharge. When this occurs, it usually\nresults that the national deities are formed into a higher order of\ngods; and probably divine oligarchies, like that of the Hellenic\nmythology, are always created in this manner. But it is obvious that if\nthe number of gods is small at the time of the formation of political\ndivisions, the process of localization is greatly facilitated. The\nfewer they are, the more honour attaches to the gods individually; each\none is sufficiently dignified to become the god of a separate people.\nAfter a system of this kind has been fully developed, the gods form a\nfederal council, in which each state or tribe has a representative. The\nquarrels and rivalries of the earthly bodies are of course transferred\nto their heavenly representatives; all local patriotism expresses\nitself in the general religion.\n\nFrom the evidence of the early records of the Jewish people we may\nconclude that the race from which they sprang went through a process of\nthis character. In these, Israel, whether as a tribe or as a people,\nis often described as associating with other tribes or peoples, and\ncomparing its own god with theirs, a common basis of religious belief\nbeing assumed.[3] The god of Israel seems to be regarded as superior to\nthe other gods; but this does not imply that distinctions of rank were\nrecognized in the common mythology. An intelligent Englishman would\nhardly assert that his country is now the chief European power; but\nif any other state were named as a possible enemy, he would probably\nsay that his own was more than a match for it. In the same way,\npatriotism expressing itself in religion, the Israelites considered\ntheir own god, or heavenly representative, more than a match for any\nother, and this naturally involved a belief in his superiority. From\nthese conditions a spurious monotheism would necessarily result.\nIn proportion as their patriotism was strong, the Israelites would\nworship exclusively the tribal god, though thoroughly believing in\nthe existence of others. This, of course, is only polytheism, but it\ncontains within it the possibility of monotheistic development.\n\nSuch probably was the state of the religious ideas of the Israelites at\nthe time they came into connection with Egypt. Previously they had been\none among many cognate tribes having a common polytheistic mythology.\nIn this mythology they had a tribal god, whom they worshipped without\ndenying the existence of the rest. While mixing and constantly coming\ninto collision with other tribes, each owning, of course, a similar\ndeity, tribal patriotism must have made them, for the most part,\ndevote themselves to this god exclusively. When they arrived in Egypt,\nthey found there a system of religion utterly unlike their own, and\nthis would confirm them in adherence to it. Being then a small tribe,\nthey could more easily pay strict allegiance to the tribal god. As\nthey increased in numbers, both through ordinary growth and through\nreceiving accessions from cognate peoples outside, this allegiance\nwould begin to be endangered. While they were a small tribe often\nmeeting with other tribes which had different gods, patriotism would\nmake them cling to their own. But when they became a large tribe, and\nceased to come in contact with other branches of their race, not only\nwould tendencies towards polytheism in actual worship be strengthened,\nbut the check upon them in the shape of tribal patriotism would be\nweakened. They would thus be likely to drift back into the racial\npolytheism, their tribal god being lost in the rest. The opposition\nto the Egyptian religion[4] would rather help this tendency, as it\nwould throw them more on their feelings of race. So, on the whole, it\nis probable that the Israelites, during their connection with Egypt,\nbecame more or less ordinary polytheists.\n\nIn one respect, however, their relations with Egypt must have tended\nto maintain their adherence to the tribal god. The period of struggle\nagainst Egyptian power which preceded their departure from Egypt must,\nby stimulating their patriotism, have prevented the remembrance of\nhis old rank from being wholly lost. Patriotism could not have been\ncompletely disassociated from the divinity who had formerly been the\ncentre round which it rallied. The outburst of patriotic fervour\nnecessarily accompanying the actual conflict with Egypt, as well as\nits ultimate success, must have enormously increased the influence of\nthe tribal god. For a time, we may be sure, he regained his original\ndistinction, and became to the Israelites the representative of\nheaven. During the first serious fighting in Palestine, he would for\nthe same reason retain his power. But then, as the national warfare\ndegenerated into a series of detached tribal contests, the old tendency\ntowards polytheistic worship would revive. To ascertain what forces\ncounteracted this tendency, we must consider a new question.\n\nJudaism may as well be said to have been founded by Moses as\nChristianity by Christ. Even if we knew nothing of its founder, there\nare features of Christianity which we could only explain by referring\nthem to the influence of a personal character. There are peculiarities\nof Judaism, too, which have to be traced back to the personality of\nits founder. Moses and Christ, indeed, are inseparably connected in\nhistory. One completed what the other began. Without Moses, Christ\ncould hardly have existed; without Christ, the work of Moses would\nhave been of little value to the world. This presumption from internal\nprobability corroborates the traditional evidence, and justifies us in\naccepting its general outline.\n\nIf the Israelites migrated from Egypt under the leadership of Moses,\nand thus began their national life, it was very natural that he should\nbe to some extent their legislator as well. Their leader, under such\ncircumstances, must have had great ability, and also enormous power.\nHis ability, together with his power, would lead him to consolidate\nthe energies of his people, in order to fit them for the difficult\ntask lying before them; and this could only be done by a system of\nlegislation. Accordingly, we may assume that the foundation of the\nJewish law was laid by Moses, though it is very hard to ascertain what\nthat foundation actually was. The ten commandments, in their simplest\nform, are generally admitted to be relics of the Mosaic age. To account\nfor the first and most important of these we have, in particular, to\ncall in the authority of Moses. \u201cI am Jahveh thy god; thou shalt have\nnone other gods beside me,\u201d is the foundation stone of the development\nof monotheism. It implies the existence of polytheism, but it decrees\nthat polytheism shall be abolished. If the people, or any class of\nthe people, continuously obeyed it, they had in time to become pure\nmonotheists. If they ceased to think of other gods, these gods would\nultimately pass out of remembrance, and Jahveh alone would occupy\nheaven. Jewish monotheism, with all its wonderful consequences, must be\nascribed to the framer of the first commandment.\n\nWe have to assign its authorship to Moses, because of the difficulty\nof otherwise accounting for it. That it was a spontaneous decree of the\npeople, produced by their confidence in the national god after their\nvictory over the Egyptians, is very improbable. Many reasons, however,\ncan be given for its having been decreed by Moses. The explanation just\nmentioned is more probable when applied to him. He may, as Professor\nKuenen conjectures,[5] have regarded the national success as a proof of\nthe greatness of the national god, and so have vowed the people to his\nexclusive service. The connection between this hypothesis and the idea\nof a covenant between Jahveh and Israel, to be referred to presently,\nis in its favour. But a stronger reason for believing the commandment\nto be due to Moses might be found in his desire to secure the national\nunity. The Israelites had grown so numerous as to be divided into\nseparate tribes. If the people had more gods than one, the old process\nwould be repeated, each tribe choosing a different god for its tribal\ndeity; and thus their religion would help the tendency towards\ndisunion. We know how the unity of Greece was anything like a reality\nonly when it was based on the worship of Apollo at Delphi, Apollo\nbecoming practically the national god of the Hellenes.[6] If no rivals\nof Apollo had existed, how much more effective his worship would have\nbeen! In general it may be said that, in an early stage of political\ndevelopment, national unity can be secured against tribal separation\nonly by basing it on religion. A close union was specially necessary\nto the Israelites at this time, when they had to struggle against so\nmany peoples in order to obtain a home. Recognizing the impossibility\nof otherwise securing this union, Moses may well have framed the first\ncommandment in order to give the tribes at least one bond of union in\nthe exclusive worship of Jahveh, their national god.\n\nWe may conclude, then, that from the Mosaic age it was part of the\nIsraelitic religion that the tribal, or national, god should be\nworshipped exclusively. The people, whatever might be their practice,\nhad accepted the principle. The second and third commandments, which\nprohibit idolatry and the misuse of Jahveh\u2019s name, are evidently meant\nto be supports of the first, by demanding reverence for Jahveh and by\nabolishing the records of his rivals. The next two are merely local.\nBut the last five, the second table of the law, are the basis of a\nfeature of the Jewish religion even more important than its monotheism.\n\nThat the morality of the time, so far as it existed, should have\nbeen based on religion is natural enough; and, accordingly, at first\nsight, there seems to be nothing remarkable about the five moral\ncommandments. When examined closely they are found more curious.\nThe first four, though simple rules which tribal experience might\nhave shown to be necessary, are still exceptional as the laws of a\nhalf-civilized people. The last takes us into a region of morality\nwith which it is impossible that the Israelites could then have\nbeen acquainted. Only a highly civilized mind could have conceived\nthe precept, \u201cThou shalt not covet.\u201d Here again we are driven for\nexplanation to the personality of Moses.\n\nThese commandments are inexplicable as the product of a low\ncivilization, but they are very natural if a high civilization be\nassumed as their basis. Egypt was at this time highly civilized, and,\nas we know from the \u201cBook of the Dead,\u201d had developed a pure morality,\nwith which the last commandment would be thoroughly in harmony. If\nwe could assume that Moses once belonged to the inner circle of\nEgyptian civilization, the peculiarities of Judaism would be fully\nexplained. The early traditions represent him as brought up in the\nking\u2019s household, and, accordingly, in a position to be acquainted\nwith the best philosophy of the age. A later tradition says he was\n\u201cinstructed in all the wisdom of the Egyptians.\u201d[7] And probabilities\nare distinctly in favour of this. The power and authority he exercised\nover the Israelites could be readily accounted for if he was a member\nof their tribe who had received the highest education of the time. Such\na training must have developed his faculties, and marked him out as the\nleader of his countrymen, ensuring their reverence for him, and trust\nin his ability to rule them.\n\nIn a region of historical inquiry like that in which we are now moving,\nwe must be content to be guided by conjecture. When a conjecture\nasserts what is intrinsically probable, and at the same time explains a\ncomplex series of phenomena, we may fairly consider it to be accurate.\nThe conjecture that Moses drew his inspiration from the higher culture\nof Egypt is of this kind.[8] There was nothing strange in his stamping\nthe principles of that culture, if he was acquainted with it, on his\nIsraelitic legislation. He had an unequalled opportunity of realizing\nthe ideals of conduct. Political circumstances had placed the destinies\nof his people in his hands. Commands coming from him had an authority\nonly possible at the beginning of national life. It is thoroughly in\naccordance with probability that he should have seized the occasion\noffered him, and imposed laws on the nation he ruled which, unless they\npassed utterly out of remembrance, would ensure it a noble development.\n\nFrom the evidence of the ten commandments it is thus almost certain\nthat the Israelitic religion was, even at its beginning, peculiarly\nmoral. The people were commanded to worship Jahveh exclusively, and\nalso to practise a severe morality. From this connection between\nJahvism and morality important consequences were bound to follow.\n\nAll ancient religions were more or less marked in practice by a\nsacrificial system. The idea at the bottom of the custom of offering\nsacrifices is very simple. Men, as a proof of their devotion, give\nto their gods some of their possessions. The immediate object may\nbe either to win the divine favour or to avert the divine wrath.\nWhen a religion is harsh and severe, the latter is likely to be the\nmore frequent sacrificial motive. Accordingly, when the Israelites\nsacrificed to Jahveh, it was probably for the most part to remove\nJahveh\u2019s anger, to obtain forgiveness for their sins against him.\nNow exactly in proportion to the closeness of the connection between\nJahvism and morality would be the tendency of these sins to be real\nsins. When sins are included among offences against a religious code,\nthey are pretty sure to be the offences most frequently committed.\nHence it follows that the early sacrificial system of the orthodox\nIsraelites must have been largely directed to the atonement of sin.\n\nIf, then, we could accept the accounts in the Pentateuch as an\naccurate description of the sacrificial customs of the Mosaic age,[9]\nwith external evidence corroborating internal probability, we might\nregard our conclusion as proved. But, as Professor Kuenen has shown,\nthe whole system of the Jewish ceremonial law described in the\nPentateuch was, in at least its final and consolidated form, the result\nof the labours of the period of Ezra and Nehemiah. It thus becomes a\nquestion of great difficulty to determine what portion of the law, if\nany, existed in early times. A few statements of the prophets seem\nto imply that in the Mosaic age no sacrifices at all were offered\nto Jahveh.[10] But the prophets cannot be considered trustworthy\nauthorities for the early history of Israel. They wrote under the\npressure of immediate circumstances, and with a very definite purpose.\nThis purpose, as will afterwards be shown, required them to cast\ndiscredit on sacrifices. In doing so, their repeated references are\nevidence that a full sacrificial system in connection with the worship\nof Jahveh was established in their time.[11] Here their testimony\nis irrefragable, and it proves that such a system must have begun\nbefore their age. No period was so likely to have originated it as the\nearliest, when the foundations of the national life were laid.\n\nBut the strongest argument in favour of the conclusion that sacrificing\nto Jahveh for the atonement of sin began in the Mosaic age is, that\nthus only can subsequent phenomena be explained. The great point in the\nhistory of Jewish religion is the magnificent period of the prophets.\nTheir writings are the noblest expression ever given to religious and\nmoral ideas. We explain their pure monotheism by deducing it from the\ninstitution of the first commandment, which necessitated in a class\nobeying it continuously the ultimate development of the belief that\nJahveh was the one God \u201cthat made the earth and created man upon it,\nthat stretched out the heavens and commanded all their host.\u201d[12] How\ncan we explain their wonderful morality except in the same way? We\nknow from the commandments that moral excellence was required by the\nreligion of Jahveh from the very first. If thus from the beginning\nmorality was impressed on Jahveh\u2019s worshippers by a sacrificial\nsystem which declared every sin to be an offence against him that\nmust be expiated at a personal cost, we can understand how any class\ncontinuously adhering to him should in time have developed a morality\nin which sin was hated for its own sake, and goodness made the essence\nof religion. Such vivid and constant evidence of Jahveh\u2019s hatred of sin\nwould naturally, after many generations, produce the pure morality\nof the prophets. But otherwise it is inexplicable. A mere theoretical\nconnection between Jahvism and morality might ultimately have made\nthe Jahvists better than the worshippers of other gods, but it could\nnot have created that marvellous passion for righteousness which made\nthe Jewish religion at its best the greatest the world has ever seen.\nThis conclusion does not involve the belief that in the Mosaic age the\nsystem of sacrificing for sin was fully developed. If the foundation\nof it was laid then, the conditions of the problem are satisfied. The\nsystem would ensure its own subsequent development. Once Jahveh\u2019s\nhatred of sin was marked by any practical effect, as time went on,\nthrough the moral growth of the people who grasped the doctrine, that\nhatred would seem to deepen, to become more comprehensive and complete.\nA conclusion which explains so much, and has probability so greatly in\nits favour, may fairly be accepted.\n\nIf from the age of Moses the religion of Jahveh was thus inseparably\nconnected with morality, all the best of the people would rally round\nit. Unless Israel at any time was wholly without a remnant that loved\nrighteousness and hated iniquity, Jahvism must always have had its\nearnest supporters. The same cause, of course, would tend to make it\nunpopular with the mass of the people. But for this, it would be\ndifficult to understand why the Israelites, down to the captivity,\nwere so persistent in their devotion to strange gods. Jahveh was their\nnational divinity, and a mere love of polytheism could hardly account\nfor this incessant desertion of him. The close connection between\nJahvism and morality fully explains the phenomenon. The Israelites\nin general found Jahveh too severe for them, and turned to gods more\ntolerant of evil-doing, just as Catholic sovereigns used to choose\nindulgent confessors. This fact would only confirm the few more\nstrongly in their allegiance. The worshipper of Jahveh would justly\nextol Jahveh in comparison with Baal, as he compared himself with the\nworshipper of Baal. And thus through the purity of Jahveh\u2019s adherents\ntheir religion would be saved from the contamination of baser elements,\nand would necessarily develop in simplicity and truth. Sin, at first\nhated chiefly because Jahveh forbade it, would at last be hated\nbecause of its own foulness; Jahveh, at first reverenced merely as the\nnational saviour, would at last be reverenced as the lord of heaven and\nearth. Down the channel of Jahvism flowed all the higher forces of the\nnational life, till at length they broke forth in the wave of moral\nand religious energy which finally overcame resistance in the grand\nstruggle of the prophets.\n\nThough the majority of the people usually worshipped other gods, and\nthus broke their own sacred laws, we are not to suppose that they\ndenied Jahveh\u2019s existence, or even his right to worship. They must\nhave been pure polytheists, believing that many gods reigned in the\nheavens. Among these they held it to be their right to choose, just\nas a lower-class Catholic will choose his favourite saint. But they\nfully admitted that Jahveh was the national god; and in periods of\ndanger, when patriotism was strongly excited, it is likely that for the\nmoment they returned to the exclusive worship of him. Thus the power of\nJahvism over the people at large would rise and fall with the national\nfortunes. When Israel was prosperous, Jahvism prospered too; when\nIsrael declined, Jahvism declined as well. For we may well believe that\nthe Israelites flourished just in proportion as they were united. The\nbook of Judges is probably in the main historically correct. The tribes\nwould drift apart, or even quarrel with each other, and their enemies\nwould overcome them and take their cities. Then a wave of patriotism\nwould sweep over them; they would reunite and become victorious in\ntheir turn. From this it is easy to see what credit Jahveh would in\ntime acquire, even among the entire people. Union brought with it\nnational happiness and success, but the adoption of Jahvism was the\ncondition of union. So it would appear to them that by returning\nto Jahveh and observing the precepts of their sacred law they could\nalways secure prosperity. When serving Jahveh faithfully, they would\nhave good fortune; after falling away from him, they would quickly\nbe plunged in calamity. How soon this would create a conviction of\nJahveh\u2019s irresistible power! In their misfortunes they would see Jahveh\npunishing them for their apostacy; in their successes they would see\nJahveh accepting their repentance and restoring his protection.\n\nThus in time all the people would in one sense become Jahvists. They\nwould believe that Jahveh was their true god, and that they ought to\nworship him alone. When they turned to other gods, they would do so\nwith a distinct consciousness of evil-doing and a certain expectation\nof punishment. Jahveh\u2019s severity of moral requirement would render it\nimpossible for them to serve him willingly; they could never become\ntrue Jahvists. But in their hearts would always be a sullen fear of\nJahveh, a belief that he punished terribly. This was the chord of\npopular feeling which the prophets touched, and to the existence of\nwhich they owed their success.\n\nThese conditions would naturally in time produce the belief that a\ncovenant had been concluded at the beginning between Israel and Jahveh.\nThe true Jahvists would of course eagerly proclaim that Israel\u2019s\nhappiness depended on obedience to Jahveh, that calamity was the result\nof his just anger, and prosperity the consequence of his favour. But\nthat Jahveh should have given notice of this, and shown the ways of\ngood and evil from the first, would soon seem to be necessary. Hence\nin later times it would be thought that Jahveh had formally concluded\na covenant with the Israelites, in which he engaged to protect them\nand make them prosperous, on condition that they served him and kept\nhis law.[13] All the failures and misfortunes of the nation would\nbe ascribed by the Jahvists to the breaking of this covenant by the\npeople, and the consequent drawing down of the penalties of its\nviolation on their heads.\n\nFrom the development in Jahvism of this idea that suffering was a\ndivine punishment followed the most important results. If national\nsuffering was considered to be due to national breaking of the law,\nequally private suffering would be ascribed to private breaking of the\nlaw. Sin would be looked on as the cause of suffering. Abstinence from\nsin was commanded by Jahveh, and so every sin would be a violation of\nhis commands that invited punishment by him. Private suffering would\nthen be regarded as the proof of sin, as Job\u2019s friends regarded it, and\nas the divine chastisement of it. But of course it would seem right\nthat the chastisement should be proportioned to the sin, and limited\nfor each offence. Thus, in time, suffering would be considered the\natonement of sin, Jahveh\u2019s punishment of it, after which his favour\nwould be restored. But sacrifices, as we saw before, were the legal\nmeans of atoning for sin. If a man sinned, then, in order to escape\nthe suffering which otherwise would be the penalty of his sin, he\nwould offer a sacrifice. Now Israelitic sacrifices, as they were a\npastoral people, were mainly offerings of living beasts. Under these\ncircumstances there would certainly be a tendency to imagine that the\npenalty of sin was laid on the sacrificial victim, that its suffering\nand death were accepted as the atonement in place of the suffering of\nthe offender.\n\nProfessor Kuenen, basing his opinion on the fact that no direct\nmention of it occurs in the law, believes that this idea of atonement\nby vicarious suffering did not enter into the Jewish sacrificial\nsystem.[14] The legal permission in certain cases of a sin offering of\nmeal or flour[15] supports his conclusion. On the other hand, vicarious\npunishment was clearly recognized in one great ceremony of the law.\nThe scapegoat is described as bearing away the sins of the people into\nthe wilderness in which it was left to die.[16] With a tendency of the\nsacrificial system towards the belief in vicarious punishment, and\nclear evidence in one instance of its recognition, we may safely assume\nthat it entered to some extent into the feelings of the people when\nthey sacrificed. Probably it was never consciously developed in the\nlaw, and so it was not directly mentioned, and, in exceptional cases,\ninanimate offerings were allowed. But after the sacrificial system had\nbeen long in existence, the constant repetition of animal sacrifices\nwould naturally produce the belief. We find the principle of vicarious\npunishment asserted in the prophets, and fully developed in the sending\naway of the scapegoat. We may safely conclude, then, that, from the\nbeginning, it was latent in Jahvism, and gradually grew as Jahvism\npassed into Judaism, until at length it reached maturity in the first\ngreat dogma of Christianity.\n\nSuch a principle, growing in Jahvism, would tend still more to develop\na hatred of sin. Morality exists because, from the simple observation\nof social phenomena, sin is connected with suffering, and calamity of\nsome kind regarded as its inevitable consequence. But this connection\nof sin with suffering would be placed far more vividly before the\nworshipper of Jahveh, as his religion gradually forced on him the\nbelief that \u201cwithout shedding of blood there is no remission.\u201d[17] In\nthe blood of the victim sprinkled on Jahveh\u2019s altar, the Israelite\nwould see stern evidence of the inexorable severity of Jahveh against\nsin\u2014a severity so great that he could not forgive it without exacting\nthe penalty, though his mercy might allow the transgressor to find\na substitute. Harsh and cruel Jahvism thus would be, even rooted in\ninjustice; but in effect it would be grandly moral, stamped with a\ncondemnation of sin that, at such a stage of civilization, was of\npriceless value.\n\nFrom the Mosaic age, then, on to the period of the prophets, we can\nimagine the development of Jahvism in Israel. There was always the\nnucleus of true Jahvists, who observed the law so far as it existed,\nand steadily grew in spirituality and moral insight. They were the\nnational party; for them tribal divisions could have had but little\nimportance. From among them, in times when the national fortunes were\nnear ruin, always uprose the deliverers, as the pure flame of their\npatriotism drew to them the nobler elements of the people. They, in\nfact, were Israel, a continuous power representing the national life.\nThrough a long struggle, marked by many a martyrdom, they contended\nagainst the downward tendencies of the rest of the people, until at\nlength, after the final destruction of Israel\u2019s material greatness,\nthey won the victory and impressed their principles on the entire\nnation. It was no mere sense of the superiority of Jahvism that\nsustained them for the longest part of this contest. That could only\nbe felt strongly towards the end, when the chief fruit of the struggle\nhad been gained. Their fierce patriotism was their real strength. To\nthem Jahveh seemed to be King of Israel, and his law the constitution\nof their state. In idea their government was a theocracy; even an\nearthly viceroy impaired Jahveh\u2019s prerogatives.[18] This was possible\nbecause Jahveh was the national god, universally recognized as such. As\nthe national god, the worship of him was patriotism; he was the ideal\nobject of Israel\u2019s self-love. All their religious feelings flowed in\na patriotic channel. Church and state were blended in one; love of\ntheir country inspired their passionate devotion to their religion.\nThis close union of religious and national feeling afterwards continued\nwith the relations inverted, patriotic feeling flowing in a religious\nchannel.\n\nIn connection with its intense patriotism, Jahvism from the beginning\nmust have been distinguished by a rigid exclusiveness. The greatest\ndanger it had to face was the corruption of the Israelites by the\nreligions of the peoples around them. To guard against this danger, it\nwould naturally insist on the sternest separation of Israel from the\nGentile nations. Circumcision, as well as other local customs, it used\nas means of fulfilling its purpose. Jahvism was probably at first\nfiercely cruel. The injunctions to extirpate the Canaanites contained\nin the books of the law, which Professor Kuenen considers to be the\nexpression of the Jewish hatred of foreigners after the captivity, and\nonly \u201cmurder on paper,\u201d in all likelihood faithfully represent the\nfeelings of the Jahvists in early times. They must have seen their\nfellow Israelites constantly deserting Jahveh for the gods of other\npeoples, and it is natural that they should have wished to remove such\ntemptations in the most effective manner. Probably they did not succeed\nin gratifying their desires, except in a few instances when national\nfeeling was strongly roused. The Israelites in general, we may be sure,\nwere easily corrupted, and were in too much sympathy with foreign gods\nto destroy their worshippers. But the Jahvists must have been fierce\nhaters of foreigners, and eager in every way to build an insurmountable\nwall around Israel. This strict exclusiveness, inevitable and,\nindeed, praiseworthy in early times, afterwards came into collision\nwith the higher tendencies of Jahvism when it attained its maturity.\nThe subsequent Messianic ideal, as it existed in the noblest minds,\ninvolved a struggle against these influences, which, in its youth, had\nbeen a hard shell enclosing and protecting the Jewish religion.\n\nFor the most part the battles of Jahvism must have been with the\nlocal religions of the lands the Israelites conquered.[19] Intermixing\nwith the conquered peoples, in race kindred to themselves, they\nwould readily adopt the divinities they found in possession of the\nsoil. Thus, in different districts, Jahvism was opposed to different\nreligions[20]\u2014a fact which was afterwards the subject of the bitter\nirony of Jeremiah.[21] But its longest and most important conflict\nwas with the religion of Baal, some particular deity worshipped under\nthis generic title. The history of Elijah illustrates the severity and\nuncertainty of the struggle. To the Jahvists probably its fierceness\nwas wholly due. They would tolerate the existence of no other religion,\nand so, in self-defence, other religions were bound to persecute\nthem. This long contest with Baal must have been of great service to\nJahvism.[22] It strengthened the fanaticism of the Jahvists, and showed\nvividly to the people the zeal their religion inspired. When actually\nput face to face with other gods, the superiority of Jahveh must have\nbeen so manifest as to gain for him many adherents.\n\nDuring the early history of Israel, up to the time of the kings,\nin spite of occasional interruptions, the national fortunes were\nprosperous, and the territory of the Israelites increased in extent.\nJahvism, as the national religion, would naturally share in the\nprosperity of the state. In the golden age of Israel, the age of\nDavid and Solomon, it must have had great nominal power. The large\nIsraelitish empire which then existed must have appeared convincing\nproof that the national deity had kept his part of the covenant, and so\nthe people would be more disposed to abide by theirs. But Jahvism could\nnot have really sunk into the hearts of the Israelites; their devotion\nto it was strong in the sunshine, but failed in the storm. When the\nkingdom was split in two, and the fortunes of the Israelites steadily\ndeclined, and great empires, in comparison with which, even united,\nthey were as nothing, overshadowed them, then Jahvism seemed threatened\nwith utter ruin. Only the devotion of its true adherents, whom the days\nof its success had enabled to develop in appreciation of its value,\nsaved it from destruction.\n\nStill, even during the closing struggle, Jahvism must have included\nin its ranks a large proportion of the people. The language of the\nprophets is clear evidence of this. The strong phrase, \u201cI am full of\nthe burnt-offerings of rams and the fat of fed beasts,\u201d[23] which\nIsaiah puts in the mouth of Jahveh, is a proof that many sacrifices\nwere then being offered to him. Signs of only a formal adherence they\nprobably were; and it was not merely to extend the nominal limits of\ntheir religion, but to change this formal adherence into a real grasp\nof its principles, that the prophets fought their battle and won Israel\nfor Jahveh.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER II.\n\nTHE MESSIANIC FOUNDATION OF CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nBy the time of the prophets Jahvism had grown into Judaism. Their\nreligion, with the examination of which we shall be mainly occupied\nin this chapter, in all cases was a pure monotheism; they worshipped\nJahveh as God, sole maker and ruler of heaven and earth. It was\nJudaism, too, in the sense that it was universally recognized as the\nnational religion. That Jahveh was properly the god of Israel was now\nadmitted by all. And this the prophets unhesitatingly assumed. They did\nnot regard themselves as preachers of a religion who sought to persuade\nothers of its truth; they were rather, in their own eyes, champions\nof loyalty against rebels and traitors false to their parent Israel.\nFor while they believed that Jahveh was God, the creator of all the\nworld, he was still much more to them the god of Israel \u201chis servant,\nthe seed of Abraham his friend.\u201d[24] Patriotism was the essence of\ntheir religion. Even when the later prophets reached their highest\nexaltation in dreaming of the return of all men to the knowledge of\nGod, they were thinking of the welfare of the Gentiles far less than of\nthe glory of Israel. And this, too, inspired their passionate hatred\nof sin. They hated it not merely for its own sake, but as an act of\ncivil revolt against Jahveh, which called down his vengeance on their\ncountry. As Jahveh was head of the state, sin was a political offence,\nand they condemned it accordingly with the fervour of condemnation\nso rare in moral, so common in political questions. The grand poetry\nof denunciation with which they enriched the literature of the world\nsprang from local feeling based on local requirements.\n\nPrevious to this period no prophetical writings are found. And yet\nthere must have been prophets of Jahveh before; indeed, many such are\nmentioned in the Jewish historical books. Evidently prophetic activity\nwas less needed before. Jahvism had prospered with the prosperity of\nthe nation; but when the national fortunes declined, and the great\nAssyrian empire threatened Jud\u00e6a, it began to lose its hold on the\npeople. To save itself, it rallied all its strength, and the splendid\nperiod of prophetic energy, which has handed down to us so many noble\nworks, was the result. The prophets saved Judaism. We owe to them an\ninestimable debt of gratitude, for they were the channel through which\nflowed the higher religious forces of the world. It was well that the\ncrisis came no earlier, or perhaps their religion would not have been\nsufficiently developed to call forth such magnificent powers in its\ndefence.\n\nIntensely patriotic as the prophets were, the chief object that engaged\ntheir attention was the depression of Israel\u2019s fortunes. However weak\nthe allegiance of the Israelites in general to him had been, still they\nwere Jahveh\u2019s people, his representatives on earth.[25] In spite of\nmuch back-sliding, he had given them prosperity, and under the first\nkings had made them a powerful nation. In their own time, on the other\nhand, the early prophets saw Israel divided and weak, and threatened\nwith utter destruction; and the later prophets saw this destruction\nfall on one kingdom after the other, until the national existence\nceased. Believing that all events were under the control of Jahveh,\nand that he had made the covenant with Israel mentioned in the last\nchapter, they could accept only one explanation of their country\u2019s\ncalamities. They could not imagine Jahveh false to his promise, and so\nthe alternatives would be presented to them as the second Isaiah puts\nthem before his countrymen: \u201cBehold, Jahveh\u2019s hand is not shortened,\nthat it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it cannot hear: but\nyour iniquities have separated between you and your God, and your sins\nhave hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear.\u201d[26] This is\nthe burden of all the preaching of the prophets. They were ever saying\nto their countrymen, \u201cYou have broken your covenant; you have deserted\nJahveh; and now he has deserted you.\u201d[27] The almost invariable image\nunder which they describe Israel is that of an adulterous woman who\nhas forsaken her husband. By their violation of the covenant, the\nIsraelites had provoked Jahveh\u2019s wrath, and all their misfortunes were\nsent as a punishment by him.[28]\n\nCompelled professionally thus to believe that Israel had been false\nto Jahveh, the prophets were not good judges of the actual extent of\nthis falsehood. They denounced the wickedness of the people, not so\nmuch because they saw it as because they felt it must be there as the\nexplanation of Jahveh\u2019s harshness. Hence it is very likely that their\nreports of the evil doings of their countrymen are exaggerated. If we\ndid not know from internal probability that the religion of Jahveh\nwas then in danger, we might suspect that the prophets were fighting\nimaginary foes. Knowing, however, that they must have had great forces\nopposed to them, we can allow for the exaggeration, and yet admit the\ngeneral truth of their statements.\n\nThe people they addressed could hardly have been in a position to\ndefend themselves against the strictures of the prophets by even to\nthis extent taking exception to their denunciations. With the decline\nof Israel, Jahvism had also declined, and the Israelites must have\nfelt instinctively that the second phenomenon was the cause of the\nfirst, and that their own exceptional sinfulness had produced the\nnational disasters. They might, indeed, so far as they knew the past\nhistory of their country, complain that the people of Israel had before\ntransgressed as heavily without receiving such a severe punishment\nfrom Jahveh. But here the prophets met them fully on their own ground,\nby denouncing their past as well as their present wickedness, and by\nasserting that, his long-suffering patience having at length given way,\nJahveh was then punishing them for the whole course of their national\nsins. Only once in the prophetical books is there any sign that the\npeople ever ventured to question the premisses of the prophets. On one\noccasion they are said to have replied to Jeremiah\u2019s denunciations\nby asserting that their misfortunes were really due to their having\nforsaken other gods for Jahveh, and by announcing that they would\nreturn to these divinities, the worship of whom had been accompanied\nby prosperity.[29] It was a dangerously strong argument to use against\nthe prophets, and it naturally stirred Jeremiah to a fiercer fury of\nmalediction. But, in general, the people could not have had either the\ncritical power or the knowledge of their own history needed for the\nadoption of such a line of defence. The steady darkening of Israel\u2019s\nprospects must have seemed to them grim confirmation of the prophetic\nstatements. As prophet after prophet arose screaming against their\nwickedness, pointing to their misfortunes as the punishment inflicted\nby Jahveh, and announcing that worse calamities would come before the\ncompletion of it, they must have seen in every national disaster a\nproof that the prophets were divine envoys, and a chill of fear must\nhave driven them to Jahveh\u2019s feet.\n\nProphets and people stood on common ground in their patriotism. The\nattention of all the Israelites must have been absorbed in watching\nthe national prospects. The prophets, necessarily including in their\nnumber the best and wisest minds, of course saw more clearly than the\nrest. Probably most of them had the acuteness to see how inevitable\nwas the destruction of Israel. Once the group of small kingdoms\nfringing the eastern side of the Mediterranean was threatened by the\nvast power of inland Asia, it was not difficult to foresee the ultimate\nissue. Still the prophets, in their own way, did their best to avert\ntheir country\u2019s ruin. Every prophetic declaration was a political\npamphlet giving political advice. All their counsel was simply the\ndevelopment of a single precept\u2014Rely on Jahveh only. In home matters\nthis principle of action could do no harm, but it had a bad effect on\nforeign policy. When the great Assyrian empire was overshadowing Israel\nand all the kingdoms around, it did not require much wisdom to perceive\nthe advantage of an alliance against the common danger. Nevertheless,\nthe whole prophetic influence was used to prevent it; the states were\nseparately attacked, and perished one by one. Egypt was far the most\npowerful of the countries near Palestine opposed to Assyria, and its\nprotection would have been of enormous value to Israel. And yet at a\ntime when both were threatened, Isaiah thundered against an alliance\nwith Egypt;[30] and probably prophetic advice was the cause of the\nalmost inconceivable folly of the religious Josiah\u2019s attack on an\nEgyptian army actually invading Assyria.[31] So far as the prophets\nthus contributed to the political overthrow of Israel, they served the\nhigher interests of their religion; but evidently a foolish fanaticism\ndictated their action, a belief that Jahveh would be dishonoured if his\npeople allied themselves with strangers, and that, if they trusted to\nhim alone, he would finally deliver them from their enemies.\n\nAs the national ruin of the surviving kingdom of Israel drew nearer,\nthe prophets had to fight more fiercely on behalf of their religion.\nThe people must have been as angry with Jahveh as he was said to be\nwith them. The prophets met their anger with more savage denunciations\nof their wickedness, and more severe predictions of calamity. The\ndivision between prophets and people became then most strongly marked,\nand the struggle between them resembled a civil war. The life of\nJeremiah, the most national of all the prophets, was one long battle.\nThe evil doings of his countrymen he held to be the cause of all\nIsrael\u2019s misfortunes, and he hated them with a bitter hatred. This\nhatred they fully reciprocated; he was imprisoned and almost put to\ndeath. When the chief prophet of the religion of Jahveh received such\ntreatment at the hands of the people, the religion itself must have\nbeen in terrible danger. If this period had been prolonged, perhaps\nJudaism would have preceded the kingdom of Judah in its fall.\n\nBut the destruction of the national polity of Israel came in time to\nsave the national religion. When Jud\u00e6a was merely a province of a great\nempire, the nationality of the Jews could survive only in the religion\nof which Jahveh was the head. The very manner in which the change\ntook place was exceptionally favourable to Judaism. The captivity,\nthe carrying away of the best families of the Jews into an inland\ndistrict of the empire, was admirably calculated to destroy Jahveh\u2019s\nrivals. The nucleus of the nation, placed in such close contact with\nforeign religions, by patriotism alone would have been made sincere\nworshippers of Jahveh. Far away from the local idolatries of Jud\u00e6a,\nthe exiles accepted the pure religion of the prophets. The most\nimaginative and the most spiritual of the greater prophets, Ezekiel\nand the second Isaiah, sprang from their ranks. And thus at last the\nprophetic became the popular religion, and Jahveh as God reigned over\nIsrael. When the exiles returned to Jud\u00e6a, they carried with them a\npure and moral monotheism. The remainder of the people readily adopted\ntheir principles. Judaism from this time was the sole religion of the\nJews, the expression of their national patriotism. Consolidated now\nfinally into the rigid system of the law, with a multitude of minute\nobservances that kept it constantly before their eyes, it was placed\nbeyond reach of attack. Henceforth all Jahveh\u2019s people worshipped\nJahveh only, professed obedience to his precepts, and knew him as the\none true God.[32]\n\nThus, in outward semblance, the prophets won their battle. They won\nit in consequence of the events they most bitterly deplored. With\ntheir religion the only security of their nationality, the Jews never\nafterwards wavered in their allegiance to it. Persecution made them\ncling to it more firmly; it inspired them in the noblest period of\ntheir history, the crisis which produced the Maccabees. Even when\nan empire greater than the Chaldean conquered them, and a severer\nsentence exiled them from Jud\u00e6a, dispersed over the world, they held\nto their religion. The moral monotheism which Jahvism had developed\nwas now unalterably settled. New doctrines were added to it, some\nof which became of the first importance, but its primary principles\nwere fixed for ever. And yet, at the very moment at which Judaism was\nthus established, there was sown the seed of a new religion, destined\nultimately to spring from it in defiance of its spirit of privilege.\nThe nobler prophets sought to make their religion the national glory of\nIsrael, a blessing to be taken by all the world meekly from Israel\u2019s\nhands; and their efforts long afterwards produced a religion which\nignored national distinctions. For at the time of the full development\nof Judaism the movement towards Christianity began.\n\n\nThe expectation of a Messiah was the most peculiar feature of the\nJewish religion. It was a fundamental principle of the community of\nIsrael, says Ewald, \u201cthat every real divine deliverance could be\nattained only by the instrumentality of a true prophet.\u201d[33] The cause\nof this reliance on divine envoys was probably the rigid theocratic\ncharacter of their Jahvist constitution, which discouraged general\nenterprise. The belief that a covenant had been originally concluded\nwith Jahveh tended to produce dependence on him; his worshippers looked\nfor help to him, and not to themselves. Any great man who felt himself\nimpelled to lead the people in times of national peril, was sure to\nconsider himself Jahveh\u2019s representative, commissioned by him for the\npurpose; and, of course, all Jahvists would naturally be of the same\nopinion. In time this reliance on individuals became fixed, and gave\nthe Messianic colour to the national hopes.\n\nThe hopes themselves were encouraged by the want of enterprise which\ninvested them with their personal character. Hope is but a form of\ndreaming, and the worst men of action are the best dreamers. Jews\nwho believed in the power of Jahveh were naturally hopeful. As the\nnational fortunes sank lower and lower during the prophetic period, it\nwas impossible for such a people not to expect an ultimate restoration\nof Israel\u2019s greatness. The prophets, in particular, were impelled in\nthis direction. Being men of imagination rather than action, whose\nintense patriotism was blended indissolubly with trust in Jahveh, they\nwere strongly urged to hope for Messianic deliverance. Israel, after\nall, was Jahveh\u2019s people, and Jahveh could never forsake his people,\nor allow them to be utterly destroyed. For their sins they were being\npunished, but the punishment could not last for ever. Jeremiah even\nexpostulates with Jahveh for permitting his people to be so degraded,\nand \u201cthe vanities of the Gentiles\u201d to seem superior to him.[34] Sooner\nor later Jahveh would assert his power, and vindicate his glory as\nruler of the world. Though the prophets might predict immediate\nmisfortunes, they all believed that ultimately the deliverer would be\nsent to Israel.\n\nIn the dreams of the prophets, the work to be accomplished by this\ninspired envoy of Jahveh had important variations. The first and most\nnatural character he assumed was that of a king and conqueror, who\nshould lead Israel to victory and restore the national empire. To the\nIsraelites of the prophetic age who looked back on the history of\ntheir country, the period of David\u2019s reign seemed the brightest it had\nknown. Israel had then been united, internally at peace, and lord of\nthe peoples around. These blessings were believed to have been obtained\nspecially by the skill and power of David himself; and so, by a\nfamiliar process of thought, the Messiah became a second David, coming\nto do the work of the first by reviving the old prosperity.[35] With\nthe earlier prophets this was almost the sole kind of Messianic dream.\nWhen the punishment of Israel should be complete, the Messiah was to\ncome as a prince and warrior, and make the nation greater than it ever\nhad previously been.[36]\n\nAfter the overthrow of the northern kingdom, this national Messianic\nideal naturally included the restoration of its scattered captives to\ntheir native land. The Samaritan captivity seemed to the prophets to\nbe designed by Jahveh as a destruction of the fatal system of dualism\nwhich had undermined Israel\u2019s strength. Henceforth the Israelites were\nto be one people, with Jerusalem as their centre and capital. When\nthe kingdom of Judah, too, was conquered, and its chief classes also\ncarried away into captivity, of course the restoration of exiles\nbecame the most important part of the Messiah\u2019s mission. But even\nbefore this, the prophets of Judah, warned by the fate of Samaria, and\naware of the customs of the Assyrian and Chaldean empires, foresaw\nand predicted the great captivity, and, in consequence, included a\nsubsequent restoration in their Messianic dreams. Thus by nearly all\nthe prophets the restoration of the captives to their country was\nregarded as the prelude to the events of the Messianic period, either\nto be accomplished by the Messiah personally, or to be immediately\nfollowed by his appearance. In so confidently predicting the\nrestoration, the prophets were only giving expression to the national\nhopefulness, but they might have based their expectation on stronger\ngrounds. The cohesive influence of their religion was sure to prevent\nthe Jewish exiles from being lost in the peoples among whom they were\nplaced; and if they managed to preserve their nationality, it was\nlikely that, sooner or later, they would be restored to Jud\u00e6a. The\nabsence of this influence was probably the reason why no restoration\nfollowed the captivity of the kingdom of Samaria. The religion of\nJahveh was never so strong in it as in the kingdom of Judah, and must\nhave been then too weak to serve as a national support. When the\nsecond captivity occurred, Judaism was able to meet it and to save the\nnationality it was designed to destroy.\n\nAfter the restoration had taken place, fulfilling the predictions of\nthe prophets under circumstances very different from those which they\nhad expected, the Messianic ideal had, of course, to be disconnected\nfrom it. Sufficient ground still existed for looking forward to the\ncoming of the Messiah. Israel was only semi-independent, a small\nstate at the mercy of Gentile masters. But the disappointment of the\nMessianic expectations which had been connected with the restoration\nmust have given a blow to the spirit of prediction. During the\nrebuilding of Jerusalem, the voices of the prophets grew faint and\nfeeble; and after the restoration was complete, only one broke the\nsilence. The Jews had to fall back on faith in the ultimate fulfilment\nof earlier prophecies, regarding the establishment of Judaism as the\nreligion of all Israel, as the beginning of the reconciliation of\nJahveh and his people which should finally secure their prosperity.\n\nSo far as the Messianic ideal of the prophets took this national form,\nit greatly helped to effect their union with the people. All the people\nwere thoroughly at one with them in wishing for the national glory of\nIsrael. If, by proclaiming Jahveh\u2019s anger and predicting misfortunes,\nthey excited popular displeasure and dislike, equally, by promising\nhis favour and predicting prosperity, they excited popular feelings of\npleasure and good-will. In fact, this part of their preaching sugared\nthe pill of their denunciations, and probably had a large share in\ngiving them their final success. As the condition of Israel grew more\ndesperate, their confidence in an ultimate revival of good fortune\nmust have seemed a tower of strength to desponding minds. During the\ncaptivity, when their store of malediction had become exhausted, and\nonly that of blessing remained, they promised nothing but happiness.\nThis, of course, would render the prophetic religion agreeable to the\npeople, and so must have contributed to make it the religion of Israel.\n\nThough most of the prophets included in their Messianic dreams the\nmaterial greatness of Israel, they were far too highly developed to\nlook for this alone. The noble morality, the noble conception of God,\nwhich formed the essence of their religion, made social and political\nprosperity seem to them of only secondary value. In their ideas, the\nchief result of the Messiah\u2019s coming was to be the reconciliation of\nJahveh and his people through their abandonment of sin. They expected\nthe establishment of a new covenant, that could not be broken like\nthe old, when the law of Jahveh should be written in the hearts of\nIsrael.[37] The grandest religious language the world has ever known\nis the expression of this dream of a people wholly free from sin; the\nheavenly new Jerusalem of Christianity is only a vague copy of the\nideal Jerusalem which the prophets imagined for earth.\n\nThis vision of a sinless age was present to all the prophets, and is\nthe chief feature of their prophecies. It was preserved in the sacred\nliterature of the Jews; and, after forming for centuries a perpetual\nincentive to religious purity, it finally produced all that is best in\nChristianity. Back to it are traceable the forces which moulded the\npersonal character of Christ, and stamped upon Christianity its noble\nmorality. The first Christians not only believed in the coming of this\nideal age, but struggled actually to realize it, and made the nearest\npossible approach to success. In the hopes of most of the prophets it\nwas closely connected with the national Messianic ideal, the vision of\nIsrael as a prosperous and powerful state. But it was also connected,\nin the minds of the noblest prophets, with another Messianic ideal,\nwhich I will call the spiritual Messianic ideal\u2014the vision of the whole\nworld reconciled to God, which produced Christianity itself.\n\nAs pure monotheists, the prophets believed that Jahveh was not merely\ngod of Israel, but God, the creator and ruler of the world. Naturally,\nthis belief that the God of the universe was their national god was\nto them a source of intense spiritual pride. Amos makes Jahveh say to\nIsrael, \u201cYou only have I known of all the families of the earth,\u201d[38]\nand give this fact as a reason for his severity, as Israel, being\nso highly favoured, had sinned doubly in disobedience to him. Such\nintense spiritual pride, of course, tended to diminish their purely\npolitical pride. Their race, so greatly distinguished in religion,\ncould afford to dispense with material glory. While, viewed thus from a\npatriotic standpoint, the belief that the God of the world was Israel\u2019s\nJahveh was a source of national pride, it also suggested a means of\ngratifying national vanity. The homage of subject peoples constituted\nthe chief attraction of material empire. Here, however, was a chance of\nreceiving the homage, not merely of a few nations around them, but of\nall mankind. Knowing the universal God, the Israelites might become a\nnation of priests by leading all men to a knowledge of him their maker,\nand so have a glory and authority far greater than any that could be\ngiven by political power.\n\nIt would not be fair to say that the prophets, in the formation of this\nideal, were influenced only by patriotism. Spiritually they were too\ngreat not to feel the need of a reconciliation between the world and\nits God. In the mind of the noblest of them, Israel was the servant\nof the Gentiles, a messenger of God bringing glad tidings of peace to\nmen. Still, on the whole, the glory of Israel was the object of their\nzeal for the conversion of the Gentiles. They dreamed of all the world\ncoming to take the truth meekly from Israel\u2019s hands.[39] Jerusalem was\nto be the sacred city of the earth, and Jud\u00e6a, as afterwards during the\nCrusades, the Holy Land. The second Isaiah gives the highest expression\nto this dream. \u201cNations shall come to thy light,\u201d Jahveh promises\nJerusalem, \u201cand kings to the brightness of thy rising. Strangers shall\nbuild up thy walls, and their kings shall minister unto thee. Thy gates\nalso shall be open continually; they shall not be shut day nor night;\nthat men may bring unto thee the riches of the nations. The sons of\nthem that afflicted thee shall come bending unto thee, and they shall\ncall thee the city of Jahveh, the Zion of the Holy One of Israel.\nI will make thee an eternal excellency, a joy of many generations.\nViolence shall no more be heard in thy land, desolation nor destruction\nwithin thy borders; but thou shalt call thy walls Salvation, and thy\ngates Praise.\u201d[40] As spiritual guides and teachers, the Israelites\nthus would be the Levites of mankind, a sacred people intermediate\nbetween the world and God.[41]\n\nThe spiritual Messianic ideal of the second Isaiah was both nobler\nand more vividly conceived than that of any other of the prophets.\nBut nearly all of them have given some expression to it. Even the\nfiercely national Jeremiah, who hated the Gentiles so bitterly that,\nthough he believed them to be Jahveh\u2019s instruments for the chastisement\nof Israel, he prayed that they might be punished for their assaults\non the sacred city, had a vision of their coming to Jahveh.[42] And,\nindeed, there was an inevitable pressure on the prophets which forced\nthem in this direction. In proportion as the spiritual greatness of\ntheir religion was understood by them, they were driven to adopt the\nspiritual Messianic ideal. The experiences of the prophetic period,\nbesides, must have shown them how impossible it was that the small\npeople of Israel should ever equal or surpass in material power the\nmighty Gentile empires which then first came in contact with them.\nSo everything tended to make them seek the satisfaction of their\npatriotism in the extension of their religion.\n\nSo far as this ideal entered into it, an inversion in the relations of\npolitical and religious feeling now occurred in Judaism. Previously,\nas pointed out in the last chapter, Jahveh being the national god\nof Israel, religious feeling flowed in a patriotic channel. In the\nprophetic age, on the other hand, patriotic feeling began to flow in\na religious channel. Jahveh before had been subordinate to Israel;\nthen Israel became subordinate to Jahveh. It is obvious that there\nwas nothing exceptional in this change, and that the circumstances of\nJewish history amply explain its occurrence.\n\nHere, accordingly, we have the historical explanation of the production\nof Christianity. From the beginning Jahvism was bound to develop into a\nnoble monotheism. Also from the beginning it was a national religion.\nBeing a national religion, in it patriotic was blended with religious\nfeeling. Under these circumstances, if, after its full development, a\npermanent decay took hold of the state with which it was connected,\nit had, as an exceptionally pure religion, to become the basis of\nnational pride, to make proselytism its end. But the history of the\nworld during this central period of Judaism is the history of the great\nempires of western Asia. The small people of Israel could offer no\neffective resistance to their power, and so, under pressure from them,\nthe magnificent national religion of Israel was compelled to become the\nexpression of patriotism, and to aim at the conversion of the world. So\nfar, then, as Christianity was a movement towards the establishment of\nthe Jewish religion as the religion of the world\u2014and at first it was\nnothing else\u2014it was inevitable. The conditions of Israel\u2019s history made\nan expansion of Judaism\u2014or rather, an attempt to expand Judaism, its\nsuccess depending on external circumstances\u2014a necessary occurrence.\n\nA tendency to remodel the form of Judaism was a consequence of the\nspiritual Messianic ideal. When struggling against rival religions,\nJahvism, as we saw in the last chapter, was forced to become strongly\nexclusive. To keep itself pure from corruption, and also to assert its\nown high dignity, it had to enclose itself in a hard shell of formal\nobservance. But when it developed into Judaism, and sought to become\na world-conquering religion, this formalism was a hindrance to its\npurpose. The barriers that were so useful for defence interfered with\noffensive movements. Accordingly, the prophets who recognized the\nhigher ideal of Judaism revolted against its formalism. Its initial\nrite, circumcision, was the chief mark of separation between the Jews\nand the mass of the Gentiles. But the whole sacrificial system was\nalso, in its way, an expression of exclusive tendencies. Sacrificing in\none manner distinguished the Jew from the Gentile, who sacrificed in\nanother manner. Moreover, circumstances at this time were accentuating\nthe exclusiveness of Judaism. As Israel fell more and more into the\npower of strangers, of course the people\u2019s hatred of strangers grew\nstronger. This feeling, which, by throwing the people back on the\nnational religion, was in one respect of service to the prophets,\nnaturally expressed itself in Judaism by increasing its exclusiveness.\nSo Judaism was tending to be narrowed just when the prophets wished it\nto be enlarged.\n\nThe prophets met this tendency with a crusade against formalism.\nCircumcision they declared to be only a symbol of obedience. A\npeople \u201cuncircumcised in heart\u201d Jeremiah called his countrymen. They\npronounced sacrifices of small importance in comparison with personal\nrighteousness. \u201cWherewith shall I come before Jahveh and bow myself\nbefore the high God?\u201d said Micah. \u201cShall I come before him with\nburnt-offerings, with calves of a year old? Will Jahveh be pleased with\nthousands of rams, or with ten thousands of rivers of oil? Shall I give\nmy firstborn for my transgressions, the fruit of my body for the sin\nof my soul? He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth\nJahveh require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to\nwalk humbly with thy God?\u201d[43] Here the regular sacrifices of orthodox\nJahvism are actually compared with the human sacrifices of corrupted\nJahvism, and are subjected to the same condemnation. The second Isaiah\neven goes so far as to assert that sacrifices are offensive to Jahveh,\nas it is degrading him to suppose that such offerings can please\nhim.[44] Of course the high development of their religion had also some\neffect in making the prophets adopt this principle. A system of animal\nsacrifices did not accord well with their noble theism. A righteous\nlife, besides, they felt to be the best offering to God, and they knew\nthat formal observances distracted attention from morality. But still\nthey assailed the formalism of Judaism mainly because it imprisoned the\nreligion of Jahveh in nationality; they wished Judaism to be a purely\nspiritual religion to which all national customs would be equally\nforeign.\n\nOf course they expressed their desires in their Messianic dreams. They\ndwell upon the glories of the spiritual religion of which Jerusalem\nwas to be the centre, when Jahveh would speak face to face with all\nhis people, with no barrier of priestly formalism between. From the\ntime of the prophets, all who clung to the spiritual Messianic ideal\nmust have shared their feelings; and when Christianity afterwards broke\nthrough the fetters of Jewish ceremonialism, its action was strictly in\naccordance with the principles of those who originated and continued\nthe movement in Judaism of which it was finally the issue.\n\nThe spiritual Messianic ideal from the prophetic age necessarily\nformed the ideal of the best and purest Jews. In the writings of the\nprophets, especially in those of the second Isaiah, it remained before\nthe people, a constant incentive to all who grasped the true principles\nof their pure religion. It was easily blended with the additions then\nbeginning to be made to Judaism, the supernaturalism which rendered\nJudaism less cold and unattractive. But though this ideal was sure\nto continue as the expression of the noblest aspirations of Israel,\nand though endeavours were certain to be made to realize it, in its\ncompleteness it was destined to inevitable failure. So far as the\nprophets dreamed of Israel\u2019s glory being found in sharing the religion\nof the one God with the Gentiles, they dreamed an unrealizable dream.\nFrom the time of the prophets down to the destruction of Jerusalem, the\ngreat mass of the Jews, as the years went by, hated all Gentiles with a\nbitterer hatred. Their religion became more confined within the limits\nof their nationality, and Jahveh more peculiarly the God worshipped by\nJews alone. It is easy to see that Judaism as Israel\u2019s religion could\nnot have expanded itself, and that the national pride of Israel could\nnot thus have been gratified. Only by leaving nationality behind, by a\nmovement outward from Judaism of the most spiritual Jews, could the God\nof Israel become the God of the world.[45]\n\nIn this Messianic ideal the conception of the Messiah personally was\nvague and undefined. The second Isaiah expected that the Messiah would\nsimply bring the captivity to a close, and that the Messianic glories\nwould then follow spontaneously as a result of the exhibition of\nJahveh\u2019s power. This more indistinct picture of the spiritual Messiah\nwas of great service to Christianity.\n\nThe belief in atonement by vicarious suffering mentioned in the last\nchapter was connected in a special manner with the spiritual Messianic\nideal. All the prophets believed in atonement by suffering; they all\nthought that Jahveh was punishing his people for their sins, and that\nthe punishment was the necessary antecedent to the restoration of\nhis favour. But to those who accepted this Messianic ideal Israel\u2019s\nsuffering plainly seemed to be a means of realizing it. The great\npreacher of it, the second Isaiah, writing towards the close of the\ncaptivity, saw an obvious connection between it and the crowning\nmisfortune of his country. Dispersed among the heathen, the worshippers\nof Jahveh appeared to him missionaries of the true religion, revealers\nto the world of its God. He believed that the restoration would be\naccomplished by the return of the Israelites under the guardianship\nof the converted Gentiles, to be their priests in the Holy Land.[46]\nBut when the captivity was recognized as an instrument of Gentile\nconversion, it was of course regarded as a blessing to the Gentiles.\nBeneficial to the Gentile world, it was not the less harmful to Israel,\nwhose nationality it almost destroyed. Thus the hurt of Israel was a\nblessing to the Gentiles. It would follow from this, in a mind nursed\nin the ideas of the Jewish sacrificial system, that the suffering of\nIsrael was an atonement for Gentile sins. The Gentiles clearly had\nsinned against God, their ignorance of him was a sin; but in revealing\nhimself to them he was blessing them, and in blessing them he was of\ncourse forgiving their sins. But this forgiveness was shown by means of\nIsrael\u2019s suffering; therefore Israel\u2019s suffering was an atonement for\nGentile sins accepted by God.\n\nWe find the results of this train of reasoning clearly expressed\nby the second Isaiah. In the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, which\nis the great Messianic chapter of orthodox Christians, and which\nprobably exercised an important influence over the mind of Christ,\nthree kinds of atonement are described. Partly Israel\u2019s sufferings\nare represented as an atonement offered for Israel\u2019s own sins; partly\nIsrael\u2019s sins are regarded as atoned for by the undeserved suffering\nof the few righteous Israelites, faithful adherents of Jahveh, on whom\nthe national misfortunes fell as well as on the rest of the people;\nwhile put more strongly, and running through the whole chapter, is the\nidea that Israel\u2019s sufferings atoned for Gentile sins. The beautiful\nphrase at the end, \u201cHe made intercession for the transgressors,\u201d means\nthat Israel, though oppressed and bruised by the Gentiles, was still\nready to be a mediator leading them to God. In the previous chapter\nthe astonishment of the Gentiles at the fact that so insignificant\na people possessed so great a revelation, is described by the\nsame method of personal illustration, universally adopted by the\nprophets.[47] Interpreted Messianically, in a literal sense, these\npassages were afterwards of importance to Christianity.\n\nThe prophetic age, as a whole, was thus essentially a period of\ntransition. In it Judaism was established, and the movement towards\nChristianity begun. Throughout the whole course of Israel\u2019s history\nwe see a gradual development of religion, religious forces steadily\ntending upwards and evolving higher ideas of God. Before the time\nof the prophets, these forces were working out a pure and moral\nmonotheism; during and after it, they were working out the release\nof this monotheism from the fetters of nationalism, and preparing a\nreligion for the civilised world.\n\nThe circumstances which at this time were tending to make Judaism\na proselytizing religion were also preparing it for success in its\nmission. The religion of the prophets was too pure to become popular.\nThe absence of supernaturalism, the freedom from dogma, which made it\nin essence so superior to Christianity, rendered it fit only for the\nhighest minds. Afterwards, when impressed on Israel in general, it was\nidentified with a rigid ceremonialism. That such a religion, deriving\nno strength from formalism or from national feeling, could conquer\nthe Gentile world, far lower than the Jewish people in religious\ndevelopment, was of course impossible. But just at this moment it began\nto receive additions from foreign sources which ultimately bridged\nthe chasm between it and the ideas of ordinary men. The dispersion\nof the Jews, which completed the victory of Judaism, alloyed it with\nbaser elements. So far as its adherents were placed in contact with\nidolatrous religions like the Chaldean, it was rather secured against\ncorruption. In the Persian religion, however, which it encountered\ntowards the close of the captivity, it found an enemy disguised as a\nfriend. This religion, which was as anti-idolatrous as the Jewish, and\nwhich had a nominal monotheism underlying its dualism, was marked by a\nsupernaturalism very different from the simplicity of the religion of\nthe prophets. A large part of this supernaturalism was now transferred\nto Judaism. The Persian deity of evil became the Jewish Satan,\nwith a multitude of demons under him that made man their sport and\nprey.[48] A hierarchy of angels was constructed, completely foreign\nto the prophetic belief in the immediate agency of God. But the most\nimportant doctrine at this time introduced into Judaism, whether from\nthe Persian religion or not is a matter of dispute, was the doctrine of\nthe resurrection of the dead, which soon became the chief dogma of the\nJewish creed. How far it tended to suit Judaism to Gentile requirements\nis shown by a curious passage of the Apocrypha, which reads like a\ndescription of the doctrine of Pagan Christianity respecting purgatory\nand masses for the dead.[49] The more philosophical Jews afterwards\nformed themselves into a party to resist these innovations, but the\nmajority of the people eagerly adopted them. With the spiritual\nMessianic ideal they were readily connected, as they formed the\npopular elements needed for proselytism, and as they tended to place\nreligion on a personal rather than on a national basis. We find them\nthe chief strength of Christianity, which, as the successful embodiment\nof the outward forces of Judaism, naturally laid aside the portions\nof it unfavourable, and took up the portions of it favourable, to\ndenationalisation and expansion.\n\nOf course these corruptions of Judaism were the result of its becoming\na popular religion. No longer confined to the best part of the people,\nit paid the penalty of diffusion. The rigid ceremonialism, which\nhenceforth was its leading feature, was another consequence of its\nsuccess. Utterly obnoxious as such ceremonialism was to the instincts\nof the prophets, it was still inevitable if Judaism was to be the\nreligion of all the Jews. As Jewish political independence faded more\nand more into a memory of a distant past, the people clung more\ntenaciously to their religion, more based their nationality upon it,\nand made it the object of their patriotism. This, as it continued,\nrendered impossible a religious union of Jew and Gentile. A religion\nprofessed by Gentiles by that fact alone would have seemed to the vast\nmajority of Jews to be sufficiently condemned. It became steadily more\napparent that, in order to convert the Gentile, Judaism had to leave\nthe Jew.\n\nThroughout all this period the expectation of the Messiah\u2019s coming\nremained the sole consolation of the Jewish people. The expectation\nentered into every part of their action.[50] All Jews believed that,\nto obtain the Messiah, they needed to be reconciled to God, that their\nsins kept alive his anger, and delayed the sending of the deliverer.\nMany an obscure preacher probably cried in their ears, \u201cRepent, repent,\nthat the kingdom of heaven may come,\u201d before John the Baptist, by\nsynchronizing with Christ, gained a prophetic celebrity. Indeed, we\nmay be sure that during this long time of calamity many attempts were\nmade to realize the Messianic ideals, that many who claimed to be the\nMessiah appeared among the Jews, and earned oblivion by their failure.\nWhen the empire of Rome began to overshadow them with its massive and\nenduring power, so unlike that of their previous masters, a conviction\nspread through the Jews that the last days were at hand.[51] The\nexpectation of the Messiah grew stronger, and the passionate longing of\nthe people tended more and more to secure, as far as was possible, its\nown gratification. Into an age of dreams and hopes, which seethed with\nrestlessness and discontent, Christ was born.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER III.\n\nTHE CHRISTIANITY OF CHRIST.\n\n\nIt is hardly necessary to say that simply from the statements of the\ngospels we cannot construct an historical life of Christ. Strauss and\nBaur have finally determined the question of their historical value. In\nthe first three, it is true, after making allowance for the vast growth\nof legend overspreading them, useful materials can still be found; but\neven these can be depended on only so far as probability is distinctly\nin their favour. The last is simply a philosophical romance, with the\ntheology of the second century as its basis. We see the figure of\nChrist through a mist of legend, and its real outlines are hopelessly\nlost. Characters like the hero of M. Renan\u2019s historical novel are\nmerely the projections of imagination, coloured undisguisedly by the\nmedium through which they are viewed. Only by study of the religion he\nfounded can trustworthy knowledge of Christ be obtained.\n\nBut in this way, as far as general results are concerned, we can arrive\nat almost certain knowledge. We can be sure, for instance, that the\nexceptional goodness of Christ was no figment of the gospels. The new\nmorality which Christianity introduced into the world of practice,\nthe morality which makes inward purity a test of virtue rather than\noutward actions, must have been derived from him. Its origin must have\nbeen in personal influence, and Christ\u2019s alone could have permanently\nstamped it on Christianity. And this, of course, renders it likely that\nsayings of striking moral beauty attributed to him in the gospels, such\nas \u201cLove your enemies,\u201d \u201cJudge not, that ye be not judged,\u201d and the\nperfect one not in the gospels, \u201cIt is more blessed to give than to\nreceive,\u201d were in substance actually uttered by him, for they are in\nharmony with the character of exceptional goodness which he must have\npossessed. So far, at least, we can have a sure knowledge of Christ\nwhich entitles him to our willing reverence.\n\nNot only is it necessary to distrust the positive evidence of the\ngospels, but even negatively their evidence cannot wholly be allowed.\nThey may suppress what is true as well as assert what is false. For\ninstance, they represent Christ as obtaining great success immediately\nafter his entrance on his ministry. Now nothing could be more unlikely\nthan this. He could not have been accepted as the Messiah by even a\nsmall number of disciples without a long probation previously, a period\nof struggle and unsuccess. In the gospels themselves the explanation\nof this omission is suggested, when Christ is said to have been thirty\nyears old at the time he began to preach. At about this age, after a\nyouth of conflict and uncertainty, he probably was first recognized as\nthe Messiah. But naturally those who knew him only as the Messiah could\nnot dream of a period when none regarded him as such. Hence the account\nin the gospels, the years of development and failure having passed out\nof remembrance.\n\nThe true historical evidence on which to found a life of Christ\nconsists of the statements of the synoptical gospels, tested and\ninterpreted by probability. It is obvious that in this way only\nknowledge of the broadest and most general nature can be obtained. If\nspecial circumstances of Christ\u2019s life, as reported in the gospels, are\naccepted according as they appear to be probable, the result naturally\nvaries with the character of the student. In these cases probability,\nin the scientific sense, does not exist. And thus far the greater part\nof the statements of the gospels are properly outside the region of\nhistorical investigation. Some are so distinctly improbable that we can\npronounce them inaccurate; some are so distinctly probable that we\ncan pronounce them accurate; but the vast majority of them, the test\nof probability being absent, cannot be pronounced either accurate or\ninaccurate; we simply cannot tell.\n\nIn endeavouring to determine the nature of the personal character and\nreligious ideas of Christ, it is on this general kind of probability\nthat I chiefly rely, appealing to the gospels to corroborate it more\nthan to it to corroborate the gospels. Such probability in certain\ncases is the surest kind of historical evidence, and may safely be\ndepended on, even in the absence of written confirmation.\n\nThat Christ stood exceptionally high in moral development, was\nexceptionally good, can be declared, as we have seen, with practical\ncertainty. The evidence of the gospels and the evidence of probability\nare here in thorough harmony, and the fact has never been disputed. The\nevidence of the gospels and the evidence of probability equally agree\nin declaring that Christ was not exempt from the theological illusions\nof his age, but their declaration is called in question by some. As\nthis point is of vital importance to our subject, we must now carefully\nconsider it.\n\nMr. Matthew Arnold has given the clearest expression to the belief that\nthe religion of Christ was wholly undogmatic in character. The dogmatic\nassertions attributed to Christ in the gospels, were, according to\nhim, used only in a mystical sense which the grosser-minded disciples\nmisunderstood. When Christ, for instance, spoke of his resurrection,\nhe meant that his moral system would triumph after his death; but his\ndisciples understood his words in a personal sense. Christ, Mr. Arnold\nsays, spoke \u201cover the heads of his followers,\u201d and, in consequence,\nthey failed to understand him, and ascribed their own ideas to him. The\nevidence on which Mr. Arnold founds his theory is extremely slight; in\nfact, he practically rests it on the few stories in the gospels where\nChrist uses figurative language, which his disciples misunderstand,\nas in the case of his injunctions respecting the \u201cleaven of the\nPharisees.\u201d Now figurative language of this sort is quite distinct from\nthe mystical language Mr. Arnold attributes to him, Hebrew literature\nbeing full of the former and absolutely empty of the latter, and the\nonly resemblance between them is that they can both be misunderstood.\nMr. Arnold, indeed, by an elaborate criticism of the last gospel,\nmakes it to support his theory, its mysticism readily allowing this\nto be done; but the fourth gospel has no historical value. The real\nbasis of the theory is the reverence which all men feel for Christ,\nwhich renders it difficult for them to believe that he held opinions\ndiffering from their own, and which also disposes them to imagine that\na vast distinction separated him from those whom he addressed.\n\nThe strongest argument in favour of the theory is drawn from the\nunquestionable fact of the greatness of Christ. His moral superiority\ncannot be disputed, and the success of his system shows that he must\nhave possessed unique personal power. But does his moral superiority,\nor his possession of wonderful personal power, really prove that he\nwas free from theological illusion? It is obvious to every one that\nthe most exalted goodness may be united with the most implicit belief\nin the dogmas of supernatural religion. It is nearly as obvious that\nextreme fascination of character, far from indicating that one who\npossesses it is superior to ordinary illusions, is a clear presumption\nthat he is peculiarly under their control. The popular power which\nChrist must have exercised is strong evidence that he shared the\npopular beliefs. The essence of popularity is sympathy; the popular\nman must be in sympathy with the people he meets, and must be ruled\nby the same ideas, whether they happen to be right or wrong. Christ\u2019s\npopularity, his influence over his simple Jewish followers, is a\nfair proof that he was subject to their religious illusions, that no\ndifference of deep insight separated him from them. People always are\nirritated by hearing what they do not understand. Had Christ been in\nthe habit of speaking over the heads of his disciples, not many would\nhave remained with him; he might thus have acquired a reputation as a\nphilosopher, but he certainly would not have founded a Church.\n\nIn considering this question, we must keep the facts of experience\nsteadily before us. All who have ever been widely loved and greatly\npopular among average men have had characters remarkable for moral\nbeauty, and have also been peculiarly steeped in religious illusions.\nSt. Francis of Assisi and St. Teresa resembled Christ in spiritual\ngoodness and in the power of fascinating others, and they held the\ncrudest religious ideas of their times. In our own days, men who are\njustly called heroes, men like Stonewall Jackson and General Gordon,\nwho win the love and reverence of all who come near them, are sure to\nbelieve in the most absurd dogmas. Stonewall Jackson feared that he\nwould lose a battle if he fought it with powder obtained by labouring\non Sunday, and General Gordon believed an island in the Pacific to be\nthe private residence of the devil. Christ\u2019s fascination of character\nis additional evidence of his supreme goodness, but it is far from\nproving that he rose above the religious ideas of the crowd.\n\nThe reverence we feel for Christ need not in the least be impaired by\nrecognizing that he was subject to the illusions of dogmatic religion.\nOf his moral superiority we have certain evidence; and this, and not\nwisdom, is the true object of reverence. Had he been profoundly wise,\nseeing with perfect clearness through the deluding phantasms of life,\nhe could not have been so good. To be supremely good, to rise far above\nthe standard of negative morality, and to be inspired by a passionate\ndevotion to others which leaves no room for a thought of self, is not\ncompatible with the colder temperament which examines the foundations\nof belief. Wise men may die for a just cause, but they are never\nwilling martyrs; they lack not merely the fanaticism, but the power\nof forming the exaggerated estimate of the value of the sacrifice,\nwhich martyrdom requires. But we never hesitate in choosing between\ncalm wisdom and pure enthusiasm as objects of our praise. And in the\nsame way, Christ\u2019s belief in much that we think unfounded should be\nno hindrance to our reverent admiration of him; we ought rather to\nrecognize that it is the inevitable accompaniment of such greatness\nas his. Only a noble fanaticism, which leaves no guard against error,\ncould have inspired his life and secured his success.\n\nWe may conclude, then, that Christ accepted the common religious ideas\nof his time, that he believed in the personal God to whom the prophets\naddressed their prayers and complaints, and in the resurrection of the\ndead. And now, after this unavoidable digression, we will take up our\nsubject at the point where we left it at the close of the last chapter.\nIn referring to the gospels, I shall always mean the synoptical\nexclusively, the last being put aside as hopelessly unhistorical.\n\nAt the time of Christ\u2019s birth the expectation of the Messiah was rooted\nmore strongly than ever in the minds of the Jewish people. Nothing\nbut the Messiah seemed able to save them from the final loss of the\nremains of their national independence at the hands of the irresistible\npower of Rome. For in Rome they saw, not a mere conqueror exacting\ntribute from subject peoples, but an empire that steadily absorbed\ninto its own vast mass all the nationalities of the civilized world.\nTo the Jews, who valued their nationality above all things, this fact\nmust have appeared a ground for absolute despair. The lower orders\nmight be roused to attempts at passionate resistance, but the higher\nclasses must have seen the hopelessness of a struggle against the Roman\npower, and must have been impelled to gloomier forebodings by the fear\nthat at any moment the end might be precipitated by the unreasoning\nfanaticism of their ignorant countrymen.[52] The religion of the Jews,\nas Professor Kuenen has pointed out,[53] tended to encourage these\nfeelings. Pride in their religion stimulated their patriotism, and made\nit harder for them to submit to the conditions of Roman rule. Thus the\ncircumstances of the time would heighten the ordinary Messianic hopes,\nand make the people look more for the national saviour. The general\nunrest, too, would deepen the sense of sin. Wandering preachers of\nthe class of John the Baptist, denouncing the sins of the people, and\nasserting that their wickedness was bringing on them the threatened\ncalamity, and calling for repentance, in order that the Messiah might\nbe sent to deliver them, such a time would be sure to produce.\n\nIn the midst of these Messianic expectations Christ grew up. The\nagitation and unrest of the period must have powerfully stimulated\na nature so impressible in its spiritual beauty. Exceptionally good\nmen are always keenly responsive to the religious influences around\nthem, so Christ must have passed his youth in a world of Messianic\ndreams. The sacred literature of his race was familiar to every Jew;\nand the spiritual predictions of the prophets, the vision of an Israel\nreconciled to God, must early have enthralled his fancy. National\nfanaticism could not have found a place in his character. In both\nMessianic ideals, as we saw in the last chapter, the distinction\nbetween Jew and Gentile was made to contribute either to the spiritual\nor to the material glory of Israel. For the glory of Israel Christ\ncould not have cared; putting aside national distinctions, he must have\nlived only for the welfare of man and for the glory of God.\n\nFrom the beginning, his Messianic desires must have been for the\nreconciliation of God and man by the conquest of human sinfulness.\nAs he watched the ceremonialism which was then the most distinctive\nfeature of the Jewish religion, he must have echoed the burning words\nin which the prophets proclaimed righteousness to be alone acceptable\nto God, and must have denounced all forms that tended to obscure this\ntruth. His sympathy would be sure to be with those whom the Pharisaic\nrigidity of that ceremonialism shut out and degraded by exclusion, \u201cthe\nlost sheep of the house of Israel.\u201d The \u201cinwardness\u201d of Christ, the\nstress he laid on the purity of the heart, in the first instance was\nprobably the result of a reaction against the formalism of his age,\nwith its minutely defined outward morality of law. To restore primitive\ntruths, and to make goodness the essence of religion, must have always\nbeen his aim.\n\nJudging simply from probability, we should say that there were likely\nto be three clearly marked periods in the life of Christ. In early\nmanhood his longing for the Messianic times would naturally express\nitself in the same form in which the longing of so many of his\ncountrymen was expressed\u2014in the call to repentance. The wickedness of\nthe people being regarded as the cause of God\u2019s anger, the best way\nto remove his anger and, consequently, to obtain the Messiah, was to\nturn the people from their sins, Christ\u2019s own personal hatred of sin\nalso, of course, urging him in this direction. Thus at first probably\nhe was simply a preacher like John the Baptist, not claiming to be\nthe Messiah, but a forerunner of the Messiah, exhorting the people\nto repent, and promising them that the Messiah would come as soon\nas they had reconciled themselves to God. Gradually, while engaged\nin this work, as he reached maturity and his powers grew to their\nfull development, and as with them came the consciousness of his\nown greatness, the conviction would force itself on him that he was\nhimself the promised Messiah, to be revealed as such by succeeding in\nhis labour, by converting the people and banishing sin from Israel.\nThis second period would grow naturally out of the first. Compared\nwith the other preachers of repentance, he must have seemed able to\nobtain success; his preaching, of course, would be far more effective\nthan theirs. Such being the case, hope\u2014and natures like his are\nalways intensely hopeful\u2014would lead him to imagine himself completely\nsuccessful, to believe that at his call all Jews would turn with pure\nhearts to God. This result would be sufficient glory for the Messiah;\nin the dreams of the prophets it had been the chief feature of the\nMessianic times. During this period he would be uniformly gentle,\nwithout bitterness against any class, would speak of coming \u201cto call\nnot the righteous, but sinners to repentance.\u201d Then as slowly but\nsurely it became evident that his task was impossible, that the Jews in\ngeneral cared nothing for his teaching and despised his pretensions,\nhe would enter on a third period, with the end not far off, in which,\nstill firmly holding himself to be the Messiah, he would appear as\nthe leader of a new departure like Moses, and, applying to himself\nthe spiritual ideal of the second Isaiah, would open his system to\nthe Gentiles, the obstinate and unrepentant Jews being left to perish\nin their sins. During this period he would become a bitter assailant\nof those who refused to accept him; he would denounce the scribes and\nPharisees, and, like the prophets, foretell destruction for Jerusalem,\nand thus finally gain for himself the death of the cross.\n\nOf course no evidence for the first of these three periods can be\nderived from the gospels. For reasons already mentioned, when Christ\nwas once recognized as the Messiah all the previous part of his life\nmust have passed into oblivion. But in the gospels the second and\nthird periods are clearly indicated; in fact, by referring to them we\nexplain most of the contradictions in the sayings ascribed to Christ.\nAs probability and tradition are so strongly in favour of them, we may\nassume the existence of at least these periods to be proved.\n\nThe greater part of Christ\u2019s active life probably belonged to\nthe second period. Declaring that the kingdom of heaven had come,\nand exhorting to righteousness as the condition of sharing in its\nblessedness, he wandered through the country districts of Galilee and\nJud\u00e6a. To the country he would naturally keep, as there, where the\npeople were less fiercely national and fanatical, his purer conception\nof the Messiah would more readily find acceptance. In the towns, and\nespecially in Jerusalem, only the national type of Messiah would be\nrecognized; and so the gospels are probably correct in stating that\nhe came first to Jerusalem in the closing days of his life. The term\n\u201cSon of man,\u201d which in the gospels is his favourite name for himself,\nwas, it is likely, the Messianic title he claimed, as it marks the\nrecognition of humanity alone by the minister of God. \u201cSon of David\u201d\nwas the accepted title of the national Messiah, and though his\nfollowers, we may be sure, often applied it to him, he would rather\nshrink from it himself. He must have gained many adherents during\nthis period; in the unrest of the age men would easily yield to the\nfascination of his character, its gentleness and hopefulness being\nstill unspoiled by failure.\n\nAs he extended the area of his labours and began to come in contact\nwith the people of the towns, he would find himself in face of\nserious opposition. Here he would meet, not simple rustics who cared\nlittle about ritual and politics, but legalists and nationalists\nprompt to condemn him as irreligious and unpatriotic. The credulity\nof his country disciples would be challenged and his Messianic\nclaims subjected to a hostile scrutiny. The tendency to dwell on the\nsupernatural inseparable from such a character as his would be in\nsharp contrast to the spirit of worldliness he would encounter. Some\nSadducees even would be likely to confront him, requiring proof of the\npostulates of his teaching, and infecting others with their scepticism.\n\nThen would begin a time of struggle and irritation. All who looked\nfor the national Messiah would be enemies of Christ. They would be\neager upholders of the formal and exclusive elements of Judaism, and\nhis disregard of these would excite their bitter opposition. If he\nneglected traditional ceremonies or associated with the outcasts of\nformalism, he would be denounced as a breaker of the law, and the\nfriend of publicans and sinners. Gradually this opposition would\nproduce its effect. As the minor customs of the law were more and\nmore put before him as matters of sole importance, he would be forced\ninto hostility against them; as the outcries of the legalists grew\nstronger, the whole system of legalism would become more discredited\nwith him. But, above all, he would lose his expectation of converting\nIsrael. When he realized by experience the strength of the obstacles\nto his ideal, he would be compelled to reconsider his whole position as\nMessiah.\n\nThe effect of this would be to drive him strongly towards\nsupernaturalism. From the beginning he must have been disposed to put\naside the ordinary conditions of life. The exaggerated and unworkable\nmorality of the gospels is probably an accurate representation of his\nteaching. With his attention fixed on the spiritual glories of the\nMessianic age, the worldly arrangements around him must have seemed\ntoo transient to be worthy of attention. This feature of his character\nwould now enable him to meet the difficulty of his position. He would\nturn from earth to heaven. Believing in the resurrection of the dead,\nhe would use it to justify his claim to be the Messiah. Rejected by the\ngreater part of his countrymen, no demonstration of his power on earth\ncould be pointed to, but he still could proclaim for himself the future\nglory of a second coming in the clouds of heaven.\n\nOpposition, of course, would only strengthen his belief in himself.\nBut this belief required that he should realize the glorious ideal of\nthe prophets. If he could not realize it during his earthly life, he\nwould have to realize it after his death. The prophecy in the book of\nDaniel of one like a son of man coming with the clouds of heaven, and\nhaving everlasting dominion over all the world,[54] would now appear\nto him to be a manifest reference to himself. Connecting it with the\nfifty-third chapter of Isaiah, the chapter easily admitting of an\nerroneous interpretation in a personal sense, he would readily form a\nnew conception of his mission. The failure to convert Israel would seem\npart of his true glory as the suffering Messiah. Despised and rejected\nof men, he would only be like all God\u2019s envoys to the Jews; his\nrejection would fill up the measure of Israel\u2019s guilt; and after it the\nwicked would finally be swept away, and he himself, as Messiah, proved\nby his constancy under persecution and suffering, would judge those who\nhad rejected him, and establish his everlasting kingdom.[55]\n\nThe necessity of his own martyrdom would soon become part of his\nbelief. In the state in which Jud\u00e6a was then, the forces tending in\nthis direction were sufficiently obvious. Only an increase of the\nopposition he had already encountered, such as would be produced by\nhis coming into collision with the fanatical orthodoxy of Jerusalem,\nwas needed to secure his death as a criminal. There must have been\nmany reasons to make him welcome a speedy death. M. Renan is probably\nright in conjecturing that Christ began to lose ground during the later\ndays of his life, the irritability produced by constant controversy\nweakening the personal charm of his character. Death would seem the\nonly remedy for this. The fifty-third chapter of Isaiah, which Mr.\nArnold supposes to have been always present to Christ\u2019s mind as the\nembodiment of his Messianic ideal, is likely to have been thus before\nhim in this closing period. There death is represented as crowning the\nafflictions of the righteous servant of Jahveh, and a glorious triumph\nis promised as its result. Christ would of course apply the passage\nto himself, and would look forward to his death as the condition\nnecessarily preceding his Messianic glory. Personal shrinking from\npain would count for nothing with him. If he believed himself to be\nthe divinely appointed Messiah, the central figure of all the world\u2019s\nhistory, he could not have had one feeling that was not subservient to\nhis mission.\n\nAs soon as this conception of his Messiahship was developed in his\nthoughts, he would at once adopt in its fulness the spiritual Messianic\nideal. Rejected by the vast majority of the Jews\u2014rejected, moreover,\nbecause he was not the national Messiah, he would be irresistibly\nimpelled to proclaim himself the spiritual Messiah, in whose eyes no\ndistinctions of race separated men from God. Failing with the Jews,\nthere was the more need that he should turn to the Gentiles; defeated\nby Jewish nationalism, Jewish nationalism must have become hateful to\nhim. He would look now for the establishment of a spiritual Israel,\nformed of all mankind reconciled to God and delivered from sin. From\nthis time, though he probably did not preach to them himself, he must\nhave included the Gentiles in his system.[56]\n\nHe would, of course, impress this new ideal on his disciples as\nstrongly as he could. It was now necessary that his system should\nbe preached by them after his death, so that when he came again in\nthe clouds of heaven he might find faithful adherents to share in\nthe glories of his reign. He would strive to prepare his disciples\nfor his death, to prevent them from being disheartened by it, and in\ndoing so he would promise them his return in power. Thus he would\nhimself originate the dogma of his second advent, which was the main\nsupport of the early Christian Church. It would not be very difficult\nto induce his disciples to accept the doctrine. They believed in the\nresurrection of the dead, and he would merely have to fix in their\nminds a conviction that his resurrection would be immediate; that he,\nas Messiah, would rise at once to heaven after his death, thence to\nreturn with unlimited powers to punish and reward. To get the first\npart of the doctrine into their heads may not have been easy; they\nwould not readily understand that their lord was to die still publicly\nunrecognized, with no proclamation of his greatness; but once they\ndid understand this, his promised return in glory would seem best to\nexplain it, and would suit it to their ambitious dreams. Probably they\nnever fully understood this portion of his teaching until after his\ndeath, when, of course, there would be every inducement to accept it.\n\nIt is unnecessary to state how strongly the evidence of the gospels\nsupports this conclusion. Again and again in them Christ appears\npreparing his disciples for his death, and promising his return\nafterwards in heavenly glory. But the evidence of probability would be\nsufficient to establish it. It solves the great problem in the history\nof Christianity; it explains the passage of Christianity through the\nperilous period immediately after its founder\u2019s death.\n\nBeing thus forced to justify himself by appealing to the supernatural\nelements of Judaism, supernatural conditions would necessarily assume\nmore importance in his eyes. The post-prophetic additions to Judaism\nmentioned in the last chapter had by this time developed a complete\nsystem of salvation and damnation. Heaven and hell were now fully\nestablished in the creed of the Jew, heaven being appointed for\nhimself and hell for the Gentile. Christ would naturally accentuate\nthis part of his religion, and adopt the same spirit of exclusiveness.\nHeaven would be for those who accepted, hell for those who rejected\nthe Messiah. Probably he now began to lay special stress on the\nsalvation of the soul in his preaching. And thus we can understand\nhow Christianity came to possess in a heightened form the more Pagan\nfeatures of Judaism.\n\nThe same circumstances which were leading Christ to exaggerate the\nportions of Judaism most favourable to general proselytism, would also\ncause him to lay aside the portions of Judaism most unfavourable to it.\nHis opposition to the legal and ceremonial elements of Judaism would\nnow be greatly increased. His worst enemies, of course, were those\nwho attached most importance to these, and in their attacks on him\nformalism must have supplied them with their most effective weapons.\nThis would lead him in time to reject formalism completely. In doing\nso, he was, as we saw in the last chapter, strictly fulfilling the\nspiritual Messianic ideal. To what extent he made the renunciation of\nthe law an actual part of his system we cannot tell, but we may be sure\nit was to a larger extent than his disciples were ready to accept. The\nforms of Judaism, at least, could not have been regarded by him as\nnecessary elements of his religion. He was forced to make his system\na movement out of orthodox Judaism, and he could not have cared to\nencumber his new religion with the worn-out forms of the old.\n\nThe account in the gospels of the closing incidents of Christ\u2019s life\nis probably in the main strictly correct. Sooner or later he was sure\nto go to Jerusalem. The need to justify his system by preaching it\nin the capital, and the wish to found it securely by his death under\npersecution, would alike impel him in this direction. And he would\nnaturally choose one of the great feasts as the occasion for his visit\nto the city. Though the forms of Judaism had now probably ceased to be\nan essential portion of his religion, there is no reason to suppose\nthat he personally objected to observing the more important of them.\nComing to Jerusalem to keep the passover, he would find it crowded with\nstrangers; practically the whole Jewish world would be concentrated\nthere; and thus he would obtain the widest possible publicity, both\nfor his preaching and his martyrdom. That the latter would necessarily\nfollow the former he must have clearly seen. In the capital of Judaism,\nat a time when a great religious festival excited the fanaticism of\nthe people to the highest pitch, to preach a religion that involved\nthe overthrow of legalism and the equality of Jew and Gentile in the\nsight of God, and to do this while claiming to fulfil the popular\nexpectations, obviously meant a speedy extinction. So we may conclude\nthat Christ came to Jerusalem at the time of the passover, probably\naccompanied by many of his country adherents who were also going to\nthe feast, and that there by his preaching he provoked against himself\nthe fanaticism of the priests and the populace, and was put to death as\nan offender against the law. Among the incidents related as occurring\nnow, is one that established a great dogma.\n\nIn the description which the gospels give of the institution of\nthe Lord\u2019s supper, we have statements which are corroborated by an\nimportant external authority. The first epistle of St. Paul to the\nCorinthians is unquestionably genuine, and accordingly it ranks as\none of the earliest documents of the New Testament. In it Christ,\non the occasion of his passover feast in Jerusalem, is said to have\nbroken bread and distributed it among his disciples, and to have\npoured out wine and given it to them, asserting that the bread was\nhis body and the wine his blood, and ordering them to continue the\npractice as a memorial of him. Taking this passage in conjunction\nwith the corresponding passages of the gospels, we have in all four\nstatements so much distinctly expressed; while equally in all four\nit is either expressed or clearly implied that this distribution of\nhis body and blood meant that his body was broken and his blood shed\nfor the remission of sins; the only variation in the passages being\nthe omission by the first two gospels of the injunction to repeat the\nceremony. Putting this point aside for the moment, we have in the rest\nof the description an account in which the three gospels agree, and in\nwhich they are corroborated by a trustworthy external authority. Unless\nprobability is decidedly against it, this concurrence of evidence is\nsufficient to establish its truth.[57]\n\nThe account, however, has probability distinctly in its favour. If\nChrist was alive on the day of the passover\u2014and there is every reason\nto suppose that the gospels are correct when they assert that he\nwas\u2014he would naturally keep the passover supper with his disciples,\nas otherwise his presence in Jerusalem would be inexplicable. But\nkeeping the passover, with the expectation of his immediate death\nvividly before him, the celebration must have seemed to him to possess\na strange significance. He believed that the first passover feast had\nbeen celebrated in the time of Moses, that the blood of the victim\nsprinkled on their doorways had preserved the Israelites from harm\non the eve of their departure from Egypt, and that this had been\nthe earliest rite of the Jewish law. Now he, of course, must have\nregarded his system, which was to be fully established by his death,\nas the fulfilment of Judaism. The ceremonies of Judaism, of which the\npassover, as first, was chief, belonged only to the old unfulfilled\nreligion, and not to the mature Judaism founded by him. So this\npassover he was keeping would seem to him, not merely a commemoration\nof the first, but, in a proper sense, actually the last ceremony of\nthe Jewish ritual. And as it was the last rite of the old, so it\nwas the first of the new Judaism. His disciples now, like the early\nIsraelites, were leaving old ways and beginning a new life as wanderers\non strange paths. As the first ceremony of Judaism had sanctified its\ncommencement, so this first ceremony of Christianity might well appear\nto him to sanctify its commencement, and to mark the transition from\nthe old religion to the new.\n\nBut where was the victim of this Christian passover? The Jewish\npassover was essentially a sacrifice, and the idea of vicarious\natonement was clearly stamped on it. The Jews believed that, when the\nfirst-born sons of the Egyptians had been destroyed, the first-born\nsons of their ancestors had escaped, through the sprinkling on\ntheir doorways of the blood of a _first-born_ lamb or kid of their\nflocks.[58] Sacrificial substitution is unmistakable here. Now, as\nmentioned above, Christ at this time had probably taken as his ideal\nthe suffering Messiah thought to be referred to in the fifty-third\nchapter of Isaiah. There the supposed Messiah is spoken of as becoming\n\u201can offering for sin,\u201d and as bearing \u201cthe sin of many.\u201d[59] To\nChrist\u2019s mind, we must remember, the idea of atonement for sin by\nsacrifice was thoroughly familiar, rooted as it was in the Jewish law.\nIf, then, he believed that for him as Messiah a death at the hands\nof others was ordained, he would at this moment naturally see in his\ndeath an atonement offered for sin. Though he must have regarded the\nsacrificial system of the law as only decreed for a time, he would\nstill feel that underlying it there was a divine principle. Recognizing\nthis principle, with the passage of Isaiah pressing on him a sense of\na connection between it and his death, he would be sure to find in\nhimself the victim of the Christian passover.\n\nThe idea that his death was an atonement for sin may have occurred\nto him before. But whether it did or not, it must have been fully\ndeveloped in his mind by the circumstances under which he kept this\npassover. It fitted like a key into the peculiarities of his religion.\nAs already explained, his object as Messiah was to found a system which\nshould secure the happiness of those who accepted him; on his second\ncoming, they were to enjoy the felicity of the Messianic period on\nearth, as well as the everlasting joys of heaven. If they were to enjoy\nfelicity, to escape punishment, through his death, which necessarily\npreceded his second coming, how readily would that death appear to him,\nas a Jew, an atoning sacrifice for their sins! Just as the lamb of the\npassover had borne, as a substitute for the Israelites, the penalty\nthat had fallen on the Egyptians, so he, as their substitute, would\nbear for his followers the penalty that would fall on the rest of the\nworld, the time at which his death was to take place heightening the\nparallel and making it seem to be providentially designed.\n\nAs the victim of the passover, part of it having been used\nsacrificially as an expiation, had then been eaten as food by those\nwhom its sacrifice was meant to benefit, so here Christ would wish his\nbody thus to be partaken of sacramentally after it became an atonement\nfor sin. Sacrifice is usually followed by sacrament; the victim, being\naccepted by the deity, becomes divine, and those who partake of it\nare purified by receiving divine elements into their natures. The\nsacramental side of the passover sacrifice was particularly marked.\nTo complete the parallel, Christ, as the new passover victim, needed\nto make his body a sacrament. But in his case such a sacrament had\nnecessarily to precede, and not to follow the sacrificial death. It\ncould only be symbolical. He had, as the parables of the gospels\nshow, a natural tendency to use symbolism to express his thoughts.\nSymbolically, the sacrament, to prevent coarse misconception, would\nbest be celebrated by himself. And so at this passover supper, after\nthe victim appointed by the law had been partaken of, Christ probably\ndistributed bread and wine as his body and blood, the symbolical\nsacrament of his approaching sacrificial death, the new passover feast\nof the new Christian Church. And as the first passover feast had been\ncommemorated in Judaism, so he probably commanded his disciples to\ncommemorate this second one, which fulfilled and abrogated the first,\neven as his system fulfilled and abrogated the system to which the\nfirst belonged, making it thus the only rite of Christianity, which\nshould symbolise in purity the coarse sacrificial ritual of Judaism.\n\nThough, of course, there is no certainty in this conclusion,\nprobability is so much in its favour that we may assume it to be\nproved. The positive evidence alone is sufficient to establish the\nfact, and still stronger is the evidence for it arising from its being\nan indispensable link in a great chain of development.\n\nAnd so we may conclude that the first distinctive dogma of Christianity\nwas actually originated by Christ himself. The Church started with\nbelief in the Atonement, in the sacrificial death of Christ, the \u201cLamb\nof God,\u201d for the sins of men. The further explanation of this doctrine\nbelongs to our next chapter.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER IV.\n\nJEWISH CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nSo far in the course of our inquiry we have traced the development of\nChristian doctrine simply through the religious ideas of the Jewish\npeople. But from this point we shall have to consider the relations\nof opposite tendencies, the collision between Judaism and Paganism\nin Christianity to which I have referred in the Introduction. And in\ndealing with this subject, it is a fair canon of historical criticism\nto say that so far as any dogma is distinctly Jewish, its origin should\nbe assigned to the earliest period of the Christian Church, and so far\nas any dogma is distinctly Pagan, its origin should be assigned to\na later period, after the conversion of the Gentiles had begun. The\njustice of this canon is evident when we remember that Christianity\nat the time of Christ\u2019s death had none but Jewish adherents, and that\nthenceforth it grew to be more and more accepted by Pagans, until\nat last its ranks were filled with Pagans alone. The Atonement is\nthe chief Jewish dogma, and the Incarnation the chief Pagan dogma of\nChristianity, and they obviously conform to the requirements of the\ncanon. For the present we shall be occupied with the doctrines of\nChristianity which are mainly Jewish in form.\n\nThough the Christian Church started with belief in the Atonement,\nthe dogma at the beginning could not have been fully grasped and\nunderstood. For a time it was probably only latent in the doctrines\nof the Church. His disciples were not likely at once to recognize the\nsignificance of what Christ did at the passover supper; up to the last\nthey could hardly have been prepared for his death. But even with a\nblind obedience they would naturally obey their lord\u2019s commands. As\nthey commemorated the Christian passover and repeated its forms, the\nmeaning of it would gradually dawn on their minds. This repetition must\nhave been from the first the centre of the early Church, a distinctive\nceremony which brought the Christians together and marked them off\nfrom the Jews around them. While thus incessantly repeating the form\nof sacramental communion with the body of Christ, sooner or later they\nwould be sure to recognize what this sacramental communion implied,\nthe sacrificial character of his death. Then the latent dogma of the\nAtonement would be fully understood. As Jews, they would readily accept\nit; indeed, it would be to them an explanation of their strange\nposition as disciples of a crucified Messiah.\n\nAs soon as the first Christians recognized that Christ\u2019s death had been\nan atonement offered for their sins, a feeling of lightness and joy\nmust have arisen in their hearts. Circumstances like those in which\nthey were placed always tend to develop strongly a sense of sinfulness\nand of alienation from God. But here appeared a means of reconciliation\nto God and of escape from the burden of sin. And, accordingly, it is\nlikely that now their missionary activity began. The dogma supplied\nthem with a vindication of their lord\u2019s greatness. Jesus, as the\nMessiah, had borne the sins of men, and had become the representative\nof men with God. The Jews, who had so unjustly slain him, were in\nspecial need of divine forgiveness; and we may be sure that the\nwatchwords of the preaching of the early Christians, when they preached\nonly to Jews, were \u201cJesus and the remission of sins.\u201d\n\nThough the commemoration of the passover supper was probably the\nmeans of impressing the doctrine of the Atonement on the minds of\nthe early Christians, there is no reason to suppose that at first\nthey attached to it an actual sacramental value. They would naturally\nrepeat the forms of the sacramental feast they were commemorating\nwithout considering the repetition also to be sacramental. But before\nlong, as we know from St. Paul\u2019s words,[60] the repetition did become\nsacramental itself. The Christians then believed that the elements\nof Christ\u2019s body were present in the bread and wine of their Lord\u2019s\nSupper. At first this presence may have been regarded as symbolical\nonly. It is obvious, however, that the delicate symbolism habitual\nin Christ\u2019s language was sure in this instance sooner or later to\nbe misunderstood by the grosser minds of his followers. The passage\nof St. Paul just referred to shows that he believed the flesh and\nblood of Christ to be actually present in the bread and wine of the\nEucharist\u2014that is, present in them by an act of faith, not changed into\nthem by a formula of consecration. When the common feast of the early\nChristians had thus become a sacramental commemoration of the sacrifice\nof Christ\u2019s death, their conception of that sacrifice must have been\nstrengthened and made definite. And with this clearer conception of\nChrist as the victim that atoned for the sins of man, whose body was\nspiritually present in the food they ate at their sacred supper, would\ncome a greatly enhanced reverence for him. He would seem to them more\nthan human; his Messiahship would gather round it all the highest\nattributes ever dreamed of in the Messianic ideals of their race.\nTheir full missionary energy would then be displayed. Probably the\nrecovery of the Church from the paralysis that must have fallen on\nit after Christ\u2019s death began with the recognition of the doctrine of\nthe Atonement, and was finally completed when the Eucharist became a\nsacrament, a solemn and mysterious ceremony, the central expression of\nChristian belief.\n\nThe preaching of Christianity must have been far easier after its\nfounder\u2019s death. Reverence for Christ could rise to greater heights.\nSupernatural powers could be attributed to him without any fear of\ntoo dangerous a challenge. And, besides, the preachers could disperse\nthemselves. So long as Christ lived he alone could properly preach his\nsystem, for all Christians would gather closely round him as their\nliving head. But now every body of Christians was equally near him,\nno matter where they might be, and had the assurance of his spiritual\npresence in the elements of the Eucharist. Henceforth the mission of\nthe Church was proselytism; growth became its evidence of life.\n\nThat proselytism began immediately after Christ\u2019s death is, of course,\nvery unlikely. The Church probably took some years to recover from the\nshock of its loss. During this period it could barely have managed\nto survive as a small body containing the most faithful of those who\nhad followed Christ. Among these picked disciples the development of\nlatent doctrine went on, until the primary principles of Christianity\nwere established on a sure basis. Then, proselytism beginning, every\nmember of the original body probably became more or less a missionary.\nAs a select few they were the preachers and authorities of early\nChristianity. The commands of Christ, as well as the nature of their\nreligion, impelled them to preach with vigour. At first they would\nnaturally address themselves to Jews alone. With the Jews of Palestine\nthey were not likely to make much way. But when they extended their\nactivity to the synagogues in foreign countries they would be more\nsuccessful. Here, as the fanaticism of race was less, the spiritual\nideal of Christianity would have fewer obstacles to overcome. Still in\nall their dealings with Jews they probably met with little success.\nTo the Jews Christ crucified was indeed a stumbling-block which even\nthe promise of his second advent could not remove. But as soon as the\npreachers of Christianity touched the Gentiles, they must have reaped\nan abundant harvest. Such was the disorganization of religion at this\ntime in the Roman world that, notwithstanding the harsh exclusiveness\nof Judaism, Gentiles in large numbers were becoming proselytes to it.\nUnder these circumstances Christianity, which had dropped all the harsh\nfeatures of Judaism, and had added to the remainder much that was in\nharmony with Gentile ideas, must have easily made converts among them.\nThough probably very soon the majority of Christians were Gentiles,\nall the heads of the Church still were Jews, and its principles\nremained wholly Jewish. This period of Jewish Christianity may fairly\nbe said to have lasted in full vigour until the death of St. Paul.\n\nFor more than the second half of this time the missionary activity of\nthe Church centred in St. Paul. After Christ himself, no man influenced\nthe circumstances and doctrines of Christianity more than he. The\nstress laid upon faith as a means of salvation in early Christianity\nwas largely the result of his personal character. A renegade from the\nmost rigid legalism of Judaism, he naturally, as a Christian, passed to\nthe other extreme, and exalted faith above the righteousness of works.\nThe same recoil from Judaism made him the apostle of the Gentiles. But\nthough St. Paul was as little Jewish as an unhellenised Jew could be,\nand strained the doctrines of Christianity greatly in the direction\nof Gentile ideas, his religion was still essentially Jewish. In his\nepistles\u2014putting aside his references to the resurrection of the dead,\nmade because he was writing to Gentiles who were not familiar with\nthe doctrine\u2014as well as in the other books of the New Testament that\nbelong to this period, we find stress laid chiefly on two dogmas, the\nAtonement and the second advent.[61] These two dogmas were closely\nconnected, and were the strength of the early Church.\n\nThe doctrine of the Atonement was that Christ had died for the sins\nof the world. \u201cGod was in Christ,\u201d says St. Paul, \u201creconciling the\nworld unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.\u201d[62]\nThe term \u201cworld,\u201d as used in this and kindred passages, can only be\nunderstood by keeping the doctrine of the second advent steadily in\nview. All the glories predicted by the prophets for the Messianic\ntimes were transferred in the expectation of the early Christians to\nthe period of the second coming of Christ. They believed that when\ntheir lord returned there would be literally \u201cnew heavens and a new\nearth.\u201d[63] This new world, then to be established in fulness, they\nheld to have been actually founded by the death of Christ, which had\nrendered it possible by relieving man from the burden of sin. But\nin their case only had sin been thus put away, and accordingly they\nwere the foundation of the world reconciled to God, which after the\nsecond coming of Christ would remain alone, the old world of sin and\nalienation from God which still survived beside the new being then\nfinally destroyed. Christ had left them to preach the gospel, that is,\nto snatch souls from the perishing to the permanent world. The latter\nseemed to them the real world, and the other, which existed for a time\nbeside it, only a vanishing shadow. For this real and permanent world,\nthen represented by the Church, they believed Christ to have died. The\nmore hopeful Christians might expect that the two worlds would yet\nbecome identical, through the conversion of all men before the second\nadvent. Then Christ would come, not in wrath, but simply in love; not\nto punish, but simply to reward. This, however, could only have been a\nrare belief. In general the expectation of the Church was that Christ\nwould come speedily, and sweep away all men outside it, and leave it\nalone on an earth renewed and glorified. Faith in him was the pass that\nprocured admission to the felicities of his Messianic reign; to those\noutside Christianity his coming could only bring confusion and ruin.[64]\n\nThis new world, the creation of which was begun by Christ\u2019s death, and\nwas to be completed by his second coming, the early Christians regarded\nas a kingdom of light girdled on every side by the old world or kingdom\nof darkness. It was their mission, they held, to extend its frontiers,\nand continuously to encroach on the region given over to night. Every\ninch of ground they gained they believed to be saved from an imminent\ndestruction. For the fervour of proselytism which possessed them rested\non the dogma of the second advent. To it they looked forward as a\nblessing to themselves and a terror to the rest of mankind.[65] All men\noutside the Church seemed to be walking on the brink of a precipice,\nover which they were shortly to be hurled. Naturally to save as many as\npossible of these from a danger so immediate and so vividly conceived\nwas to most Christians the chief object of life. Some of the sterner\nof them, as we know from the book of Revelation, which was written at\nthe close of this period, expected with gladness the coming of Christ\nto take vengeance on his enemies. But the harsh and exclusive spirit of\nthat characteristically Jewish work could not have been general; and we\nmay be sure that the Christians, as a whole, felt only pity when they\nthought of the impending destruction of the proud non-Christian world.\n\nMany strange ideas entered into the expectation of the coming of\nChrist. It was even thought that at the last moment he would convert\nand save those who had been unreached by his earthly envoys. St. Paul\nbelieved that then, \u201cafter the fulness of the Gentiles had come in,\u201d\nIsrael would at length be saved.[66] As to what was to follow the\nsecond advent, opinions slightly varied. According to St. Paul,[67]\nChrist would establish after it an eternal and heavenly kingdom of\nthe Christian living and risen dead; but according to the book of\nRevelation,[68] he would then reign for a thousand years on earth,\nafterwards beginning his everlasting rule.\n\nFrom the new world then to be completed the Christians believed sin\nto have been put away by the death of Christ. The doctrine of the\nAtonement, as they understood it, meant actual deliverance from sin,\nand not mere deliverance from its penalty. Nothing could be clearer\nthan St. Paul\u2019s statement of this.[69] All St. Paul\u2019s epistles are\npervaded by a tone of grieved surprise that sin should be found\nexisting within the Church. Sin in his eyes was essentially the mark\nof the old world. If, then, a Christian sinned, he showed that he did\nnot really belong to the new world; he was under the law, and not under\ngrace, and by the law he would be condemned; he would perish with\nthe perishing world. Probably, under the pressure of such a belief,\nthe Church at this time was the purest society of men that has ever\nexisted. Considering the moral condition of the period, it is likely\nthat the distinction then made between believer and sinner almost\ncorresponded to actual fact. Practically within all was good, and\nwithout all was evil. In modern evangelical Protestantism language of\nthe same kind is often used, but only as the shadowy semblance of what\nwas once substantial reality.\n\nThe belief in the second advent of Christ in another way must have\nhelped to maintain the purity of the early Christians. Living in the\nconstant expectation of his immediate coming, worldly pleasures seemed\ntoo transient and unsure to be worthy of attention. Their belief too,\nwas invested with a vivid sense of reality. They expected to see\ntheir lord in all his heavenly majesty, not under strange and unknown\nconditions only to be experienced by passing through the gate of death,\nbut in the midst of the familiar associations of earth. They awaited\nhis appearance \u201cin the very world which is the world of all of us,\u201d and\nthe shadow of his coming lay on all the thoughts and actions of their\nlives.\n\nWith the fading of so beautiful a dream the real corruption of\nChristianity began. As the years passed by, and Christ did not appear,\nthe hopes of the Church gradually died away. The doctrine of his speedy\ncoming at length became the last refuge of fanaticism. With it \u201cthe\nfreshness of the early world\u201d of Christianity finally perished; the\nChurch never knew again the simplicity and purity which marked this\nperiod of its youth.\n\nThe expectation of the immediate coming of Christ was the sustaining\nprinciple of Jewish Christianity. The loss of it threw the Church\ncompletely into Pagan hands. While it prevailed, Christians cared\nlittle about the explanation of their theology; existing conditions\nwere regarded as too provisional. But afterwards, when a long life\nseemed to lie before the Church, theological \u201cpseudo-science\u201d was\nborn. New and complex doctrines were needed to engage the thoughts of\nChristians, and these Pagan Christianity supplied.\n\nThough the Christianity of this period was thoroughly Jewish in the\ncharacter of its doctrines, the preaching of it was addressed chiefly\nto Pagans. St. Paul was their representative among the heads of the\nChurch, and preached almost exclusively to them. In turning to them,\nChristianity had to a certain extent to adapt itself to their ideas.\nThe nature of this adaptation is clearly visible in the writings of St.\nPaul.\n\nI have said that, in preaching to Jews, the watchwords of Christianity\nprobably were \u201cJesus and the remission of sins.\u201d In preaching to\nPagans, these watchwords would not have been worth much. Pagans looked\nfor no Messiah, nor were they likely to be inconveniently conscious of\nsin. The great doctrine of the Church on which stress was laid when it\npreached to Pagans, as we have clear evidence in St. Paul\u2019s epistles,\nwas the resurrection. Christianity attracted Pagans mainly by promising\nthem the resurrection of the dead. This was naturally the case, as\nto them, unlike Jews, it was a novel doctrine. But the strength of\nChristianity in dealing with Pagans lay not merely in its assertion of\nthe resurrection of the dead, but in the proof of the resurrection it\nprofessed to give. This, again, is plainly evident in the epistles of\nSt. Paul. He dwells so much on the resurrection of Christ that we might\nsuspect him to have been tainted originally with the scepticism of the\nSadducees. By this peculiarity, however, he was exactly fitted to be\nthe apostle of the Gentiles. With his writings before us, we may be\nsure that he preached to Pagans, as he is made to do in the Acts of the\nApostles, \u201cJesus and the resurrection.\u201d[70] To him the resurrection of\nChrist was the evidence for the general resurrection of the dead; while\nhis conviction that Christ had risen from the dead rested on the belief\nthat he as well as others had seen Christ after his death.[71] And so\nSt. Paul could preach the resurrection to Pagans in a very effective\nmanner, declaring that the dead would rise again, and giving as proof\nof this the fact that one man, Jesus, was known thus to have risen, as\nafter his death he had been seen by many credible witnesses, including\nSt. Paul himself. If God had raised Jesus, why should he not also raise\nother men? Christ had risen from the dead, and become the first-fruits\nof them that slept.\n\nThus while the watchwords of the Church in preaching to Jews were\n\u201cJesus and the remission of sins,\u201d its watchwords in preaching to\nPagans were \u201cJesus and the resurrection.\u201d That the evidence on which\nthis preaching was founded should have existed is natural enough.\nThe disciples of Christ, as Jews, necessarily believed that he,\nafter his death, had ascended to heaven, and was living there with\nGod. Such being the case, there is nothing strange in their fancying\nthat he occasionally appeared to them.[72] The death of Christ must\nhave immediately weeded out of the Church all but his most faithful\nfollowers. It is not surprising that these, in the midst of the\ndisturbance and excitement of those early days, should have seen\nvisions of their lord, should have imagined that he came sometimes from\nheaven to console them and strengthen them in their weakness. People\nso superstitious, in a period of so much supernaturalism, were almost\ncertain to see such visions. St. Paul\u2019s own particular vision, which\nplayed so important a part in the history of early Christianity, of\ncourse can only be explained by referring to the peculiarities of his\npersonal character.\n\nThis basing the doctrine of the resurrection of the dead on the\nresurrection of Christ had nothing to do with the subsequent belief\nthat he rose on earth and stayed there for a time. St. Paul evidently\nbelieved that Christ appeared to others as well as to himself by\ncoming straight from heaven, and that his resurrection had been his\nentrance into heavenly glory.[73]\n\nIn another and a more important respect the influence of its Pagan\nproselytes affected the principles of Jewish Christianity. In preaching\nto Pagans it was necessary to determine the nature of Christ. For Jews\nit was enough to call him the Messiah; their imagination supplied\nthe rest. But Pagans, who had no Messianic expectations, required an\nexplanation of his position as founder of the Church. This influence\nnaturally was most felt by St. Paul, and through him it had a\nconsiderable effect in shaping the development of Christian doctrine.\n\nSt. Paul believed that Christ \u201cwas born of the seed of David according\nto the flesh, and declared to be the son of God in power by the\nresurrection from the dead.\u201d[74] Thus St. Paul, as Strauss says, began\nthe deification of Christ. Of course, as Strauss also points out,\nthis was due to the fact that he had never personally seen Christ.\nEntering the Church some years after its founder\u2019s death, when already\nlegendary influences must have been active in exalting him, St. Paul\nhad no knowledge of Christ to check his natural tendency to glorify\nthe master whom he believed to have appeared to him in a blaze of\nheavenly light. The other Christians who saw visions of Christ had\nprobably all known him during his life, and this must have interfered\nwith their impulses to magnify him. Naturally, then, St. Paul went\nfurther than the other leaders of the Church, and, having seen Christ\nonly in a heavenly vision, thought of him only as a heavenly being.\nThe conception he ultimately formed of Christ in consequence of this\ntendency to exalt him is somewhat obscure. The term \u201cson of God\u201d in the\nmouth of a Jew might have only a vague meaning applicable to any man.\nAs employed by St. Paul, it evidently has a special significance. He\nseems to have believed that Christ was the true Man, Man as he ought\nto be. Adam was the first and imperfect man, Christ was the second and\nperfect man. Thus God was the father of Christ in a fuller sense than\nthat in which he was the father of ordinary men, as he had imparted\nto Christ more of his own nature. Through this possession of elements\nof the divine nature, Christ was able to represent and redeem mankind\nfallen under the power of sin. All faithful followers of him were to be\nmade partakers of his divine characteristics, were to become children\nand heirs of God and joint-heirs with Christ, were to suffer and be\nglorified with him.[75]\n\nChrist was evidently regarded by St. Paul as made thus peculiarly the\nson of God by his possession of God\u2019s spirit. No idea of his having\nhad a miraculous human birth entered into this belief. God in the\nfulness of time sent forth his son in the likeness of sinful flesh,\nborn under the law, that he might redeem those who were under the\nlaw.[76] St. Paul, however, seems to have believed vaguely in Christ\u2019s\npre-human existence;[77] but the pre-existence he assigned to Christ\nwas potential rather than actual, Christ existing from the beginning of\ntime as the destined deliverer of mankind.[78]\n\nSo the extent of St. Paul\u2019s deification of Christ may be thus generally\ndescribed. He believed that Christ was in a peculiar sense the son of\nGod\u2014that is, something more than ordinary man. Intermediate between God\nand man, he was at once God\u2019s agent and man\u2019s representative. But St.\nPaul clearly makes him inferior to God as well as superior to man, and\nallows him no power except what is delegated to him by God.[79] Thus\nas yet there was no sign of the doctrine of the Incarnation, though a\npath for it was being prepared. For the doctrine of the Incarnation,\nit must be remembered, is not a mere deification of Christ. It is\nimportant, not because it deifies man, but because it humanizes God.\nSt. Paul undoubtedly, so far as he deified\u2014it would be better to say\ndivinised\u2014Christ, helped the Pagan tendencies of later Christianity,\nbut there was nothing actually Pagan in his belief.\n\nThe death of St. Paul marked the beginning of the end of Jewish\nChristianity. As the Jewish leaders died off, the vast Pagan majority\nseized upon power and impressed their ideas on the doctrines of the\nChurch. Between the undiluted Jewish Christianity of its origin and\nthe Pagan Christianity of the second century, Paulinism served as a\nlink which enabled them finally to remain in nominal connection. In\nthe spurious epistles attributed to St. Paul we can trace the steps\nof advancing Paganism, and observe the struggle for reconciliation\nwhich his followers inherited from him. Paulinism was ultimately lost\nin the Paganism with which its Jewish opponents had identified it.\nBut it bridged the interval between the Jewish and Pagan periods of\nChristianity, and so saved the Church from a rupture it could not have\nsurvived.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER V.\n\nPAGAN CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nWhile the movement within Judaism with which hitherto we have been\nmainly occupied was tending to create out of it a world-religion,\noutside of it circumstances were preparing to make this tendency\nsucceed. The later additions to Judaism, the supernatural system of\ndogma which formed the basis of Christianity, were, as I have already\nsaid, favourable to its expansion by reason of their harmony with Pagan\nideas. About the time at which they entered strongly into Judaism,\nbegan a steady break-up of the religions of the Pagan world. The\nmaterial power of Rome attacked them from below, by destroying the\nnational foundations on which they rested, while Greek culture and\nphilosophy, advancing under the protection of that power, assailed\nthem from above. Under the double pressure they faded away. In the age\nof the apostles, over the greater part of the Roman empire religion\nwas a matter of sincere belief only with the lower orders of the\npeople. A few men of thought and learning put it utterly aside.\nBetween these two classes there was the great body of ordinary persons\nmentioned at the beginning of our first chapter, who had lost faith\nin the popular religions, but were themselves thoroughly religious.\nThe credulity which always characterizes periods of religious change,\nwhen some form of religion is destroyed, though the religious spirit\nretains its energy, was universal. Besides this break-up of the old\nreligions in consequence of the extension of Roman power, in another\nway that extension of power more directly prepared a path for a great\nproselytising system. As national limits were overthrown, of course\na religion that ignored national distinctions could more easily\noverspread the world.[80] Thus when Christianity touched Paganism\neverything promised it success. In fact, the critical period in the\nlife of Christianity was that which immediately followed its founder\u2019s\ndeath. While it existed only in Palestine, it was in great danger.\nWhen it spread among the synagogues of Jews in foreign countries, it\nhad a surer footing. And when from these, which served as a means of\nintroducing it to them, it turned to Pagans, it was placed beyond\npossibility of failure.\n\nIt is interesting to note that Christianity failed to conquer the\nJudaism from which it sprang, while the Paganism seemingly foreign to\nit everywhere succumbed to it. A few centuries after this time every\npart of the Roman empire professed Christianity as its religion, while\nthe Jews remained still the same. Paganism was overcome and absorbed\nby Christianity, but Judaism shook it off as an excrescence without\nsuffering harm. In this fact there is nothing surprising. Judaism was\ntoo strong for Christianity to subdue it, while Paganism was a ready\nprey. The Roman empire, outside Judaism, lay before Christianity like\na body without a mind; it needed a unifying religion to match its\npolitical unity, and this Christianity supplied.\n\nThe general effect likely to be produced on Christianity by its\nreception of Pagan disciples may now be considered. It is obvious that\nPagans, who were steeped in religious ideas very different from those\nwith which the Jews were familiar, would carry with them into Jewish\nChristianity different principles of religion. To ascertain the extent\nof this difference, we must compare Judaism and Paganism.\n\nAs a pure monotheism, Judaism stood alone in the world. A purely\nmonotheistic religion tends to produce humility and stress on faith.\nThe two great principles of human action, which Mr. Lecky names\nas the alternative forces that underlie every important movement\nof mankind,[81] a sense of human dignity and a sense of sin, are\ndistinctive marks of polytheism and monotheism. Monotheism, with\nits one God so far removed from man, inspires a feeling of human\nnothingness in comparison with him. Polytheism, with its far more\nanthropomorphic and less awful gods, does not dwarf man thus, but\nenables him freely to compare himself with the divinities he worships.\nAnd monotheism, by making man appear nothing beside God, necessarily\nexalts faith above good works as a means of pleasing him; for when the\ndistance between them is so immense, the best that man can do appears\na trifle. Both these tendencies of Judaism, as a monotheism, were more\nthan counterbalanced by other circumstances connected with it. The\nhumility the Jews might feel when conscious of the difference between\nthemselves and God was more than outweighed by the pride they felt in\ntheir superiority to the rest of mankind as his chosen people who alone\nhad the knowledge of him.[82] Their superiority to other men naturally\naffected them more than their inferiority to God. The strict legalism\nof Judaism also prevented stress on faith from being developed in it,\nas a multitude of petty observances made it peculiarly a religion of\nworks. But both these principles were latent in Judaism, and were only\nchecked by special circumstances attending it as a national religion.\nThese circumstances being removed, the latent principles were sure to\nbe developed. And, in fact, in Jewish Christianity, which was neither\nformal nor exclusive, their development was unmistakable. Early\nChristianity was essentially distinguished both by humility and stress\non faith, as a glance at the New Testament is sufficient to show.\n\nSimplicity of thought also characterized Judaism. Mysticism was\nabhorrent to a pure Jew, though a hellenised Jew like Philo might be\nsteeped in it. Simplicity of worship, too, was a feature of Judaism;\nfor the splendid ritual connected with the temple at Jerusalem was not\nproperly a part of it, but was merely the expression of national pride.\nWhen away from Jerusalem, the Jew worshipped in the simplest and purest\nmanner. And, most of all, morality was closely bound up with Judaism.\nJosephus justly boasted that his religion made virtue an indispensable\npart of itself.[83] The Jews as a whole were certainly far more moral\nthan the Pagans as a whole.\n\nThe opposite of all these qualities characterised Pagan religions.\nPagans felt no religious humility, for there was no great difference\nbetween their gods and themselves. Pride, a sense of human dignity,\ndistinguished them as men. They had not to lay stress on faith, for\nthis pride made them fully recognize the value of their own good works.\nMysticism marked their religious thought, and sensuousness their\nreligious worship. Between morality and their religions there was only\nthe loosest connection.\n\nKeeping these facts in view, we can easily understand the change in\nChristianity which now began. All the characteristics of Judaism just\nmentioned distinguished Jewish Christianity. Humility, stress on\nfaith, simplicity of thought and worship, and the closest connection\nwith morality clearly marked the religion of the early Church. This\nwas evidently the case because the first Christians were Jews. When,\nthen, the Pagans came in, having wrapped up in their religious ideas\npride, trust in good works, mysticism, a love of sensuous worship,\nand a loose regard for morality, and when before long they alone made\nup the Church, Christianity could not remain unchanged. Christianity\nbecame Pagan because Pagans became Christians. And this is the full\nexplanation of its corruption. The Jews, in a religious sense, were\nmore highly developed than the Pagans, and so when it passed from Jews\nto Pagans it necessarily deteriorated.\n\nAs Christianity was preached in the Pagan world, it continually reached\nlower strata of Paganism. At first only the best Pagans could have\nentered the Church, but afterwards, as it grew in influence, Pagans\nof a constantly inferior type must have joined it. Thus the corruption\nof Christianity proceeded, not merely because Pagans in larger numbers\nprofessed it, but because, as time went by, a lower, a more Pagan class\nbecame included within its ranks. All during the period we are now\nexamining probably belonged to the great middle order of society before\nmentioned, philosophers and peasants equally being absent. Christianity\nclung to the cities, and the restlessness of city life contributed to\nthe growth of its theology. We will now trace the results of the direct\ninfluence of Paganism on the dogmas of the Church.\n\nThis influence naturally showed itself in a tendency towards the\nexaltation of Christ. He would seem to Pagans the real god of\nChristianity. God, the purely Jewish divinity, the national deity of\nJudaism, must have been from the beginning unattractive to Pagans,\nwho disliked Jews, and were accustomed to gods that differed but\nlittle from men. The identification by Marcionite Gnosticism of the\nJewish god with the malignant creator of matter showed how strong this\nfeeling could become. But for the most part Pagans would simply put\nGod aside, and fix all their attention on Christ. They would honour\nand exalt him, and regard him as the representative of heaven. Thus\nPaganism must have tended to develop still further the Christology of\nPaulinism. The first result of this probably appeared in connection\nwith the Pauline phrase \u201cson of God.\u201d A Jew could not misinterpret the\nphrase and give it a literal meaning, but a Pagan might do so easily.\nFamiliar with ideas of extremely anthropomorphic gods, Pagans would\nnaturally consider Christ to be the son of God in the sense in which\nHerakles was the son of Zeus. As the proportion of Jews in the whole\nnumber of Christians grew less, the increasing Paganism of the Church\ndeveloped this tendency, until finally it resulted in the belief in the\nmiraculous conception of Christ, the first distinctly Pagan dogma of\nChristianity.\n\nThe gospels supply us with almost certain evidence that this was the\nway in which the dogma originated. The genealogies in Matthew and Luke\nare clear proof that the earlier traditions of the Church made Joseph\nthe father of Christ, and of course the Church was less Pagan then than\nit was in later times. The doctrine, as Dean Milman points out, is\nutterly un-Jewish.[84] The Jews always expected the Messiah to be born\nin the ordinary manner, and they reverenced God too much to put him in\nthe place of a human father. So the dogma shows plainly that it was the\nfirst triumph of Christian Paganism. Jewish Christianity was only able\nslightly to spiritualize it, and to found it in appearance upon an\nabsurd misinterpretation of a passage of Isaiah.[85]\n\nWhile the beginning of the gospel narratives was being constructed\nby one influence of Pagan Christianity, the end of them was being\nconstructed by another. When the expectation of the second coming\nof Christ was abandoned, the Church had to assign a different\nmeaning to his resurrection. Originally, and especially by St. Paul,\nthis was closely connected with the second advent.[86] St. Paul\nevidently regarded the appearances of Christ to him and to others as\npreliminaries of the second advent, but now they seemed to stand in\nanother light. Examining the traditions which preserved the remembrance\nof the visions of Christ seen by the early Christians, the Church found\nthem, of course, clustered most thickly in the period immediately after\nhis death, when the conditions likely to produce them were strongest.\nVisions seen after that time were probably only occasional and rare,\nand, with the exception of St. Paul\u2019s, they were sure to have little\nimportance. Finding, then, that nearly all the appearances of Christ\nhad occurred within a short period after his death, the Church would\nnaturally make a distinction between this period and subsequent\ntimes. Christ obviously seemed to have been more present then than\nafterwards. It would not be long before the belief would follow that\nhe had actually stayed on earth during this period, before he had\nascended to heaven. With his second coming no longer expected, that\nhe should have done so would seem quite natural. The Church having to\nface a long life without Christ, it was reasonable that, before leaving\nit to its lonely struggle, he should have stayed with it for a time\nto sustain its immaturity and to strengthen it for its work. A solemn\nascension of Christ in presence of his disciples would seem to be\ndemanded as a suitable close to this period, and with the addition of\nit the dogma was complete.\n\nAs we can see by comparing Luke\u2019s gospel with the Acts, this stay on\nearth was made shorter by an earlier than it was by a later belief. It\nwas probably fixed finally at forty days, in order to include different\nreports of visions with places other than Jerusalem as their scene,\nand possibly, through the influence of expiring Christian Judaism, to\nmatch the forty days of Moses on Mount Sinai. That Christ rose on the\nthird day after his death was a dogma of older times accepted by St.\nPaul,[87] founded, it is likely, on a passage of Hosea,[88] and there\nwas no difficulty in connecting it with the belief in his stay on\nearth. So the final doctrine of the Church was that Christ rose again\non the third day after his death, stayed then forty days on earth, and\nafterwards ascended to heaven, not to return till the day of judgment\nand the end of mortal things.\n\nThe evidence in favour of this explanation of the origin of the\northodox doctrine of the resurrection of Christ is exceptionally\nstrong. The accounts in the gospels, so confused and contradictory even\nin comparison with the rest of them, and telling only of occasional\nappearances of Christ to his disciples, show us clearly the underlying\nbasis of dreams and visions on which the legend was founded. The belief\nin the resurrection of Christ on earth, we may conclude with almost\nhistorical certainty, arose from the late combination of the early\ntraditions of Christ\u2019s appearances from heaven to his disciples.\n\nThus at the time to which we have now come the Church in general\nbelieved Christ to be the divinely begotten and humanly conceived\nson of God, who had risen after his death on earth, and then had\nfinally ascended to heavenly glory. Pagan principles had triumphed,\nand Paganism was every moment growing stronger in Christianity. The\ntendency to exalt Christ, already far advanced, had now nothing to\ncheck it. Forces were at work which were inevitably destined fully to\ndeify Christ, to lift him to the level of the Jewish God. The Jewish\nelements of Christianity, including monotheism, were thus in great\ndanger of utterly perishing. Christianity, in fact, was tending to\nbecome a purely Pagan polytheistic religion, with a human being as its\nmost important god, when it was saved by the influence on it at this\ncritical period of a fortunate development in Jewish hands of Pagan\nphilosophy.\n\nPhilosophy, from the moment of its first existence, has always by an\nirresistible pressure been driven towards monotheism. The consciousness\nin the thinker of his own unity, and the inevitable conditions of\nthought, alike force him to imagine one power as the cause of all\nthe phenomena of life. Philosophy, when it arises in the midst of\npolytheism, at first allows the orthodox gods to be the subordinate\ninstruments of this power, but it soon develops a tendency to sweep\nthem utterly away. Then, having shaken itself free of popular religion,\nit builds up a new religion of its own, in which it asserts the\nexistence of one supreme intelligence, the creator and governor of the\nworld.\n\nWhen philosophy has got thus far, and has constructed its eternal God,\ncertain difficulties confront it. God, as the great first cause, has\nto be made perfect, for if he were imperfect thought would have to\nascend higher to find a cause of his imperfection. But as the creator\nof all things, God at one time must have existed alone, an absolute\nbeing simply self-contemplative. When he began to create, he ceased\nto be absolute, and became a relative being contemplative of his own\ncreation. If as an absolute being he was perfect, how did he remain\nperfect when he became a relative being? The study of this problem has\ngenerally driven philosophy into pantheism, but where it has maintained\nits hold on theism, it has been forced to suppose that a change\noccurred in God at the time of creation, by which he remained absolute\nin regard to himself, though he became relative in regard to that which\nhe created.\n\nTwo Gods had thus to be imagined, one absolute and eternal, the other\nrelative and existing from the beginning of created things. But these\ntwo had to be one, or else the first or absolute God would have been\nrelative to the second, and so the old difficulty would have been\nrevived. Hence there was need of a mystery; God was one and yet two,\ntwo persons and one substance. The first was God as he was through\nall eternity, the second was God as he was manifested in creation,\nhis representative with everything but himself. Thus the second was a\nmediator between the first and the world.\n\nWhile for purely philosophical reasons philosophy was thus compelled\nto dualise God, other reasons also impelled it to this conclusion.\nHolding him to be pure mind, it had to explain his action on matter.\nHere, too, it was necessary to suppose, a mediator between the material\nworld and God. And in proportion as philosophy advanced in its theism,\nit extended the attributes of God and raised him to a loftier height\nabove created things; and hence, to connect him with what was so far\ninferior, a mediator again was needed. But in all cases this mediator\nhad to be a part of God himself, or no difficulty was met; and thus in\nevery way philosophy tended towards a divine dualism in mystery.\n\nAll Greek philosophy, except where it drifted into pantheism or pure\nmaterialism, was more or less influenced by this tendency. In Platonism\nespecially it is clearly marked. The ideal world of Plato fills the\nplace of the second or relative God, and acts as a mediator between God\nthe absolute and the material world. God, according to Plato, is not\nthe creator of matter, which, so far as it is recognized in his system,\nis given an eternal existence. The action of God is confined to the\nideal world, of which material phenomena are a distorted reflection. At\nthe time of the beginning of Christianity these features of Platonism\nwere strongly developed in the theology of an Alexandrian Jew.\n\nOutside Palestine the most important centre of Jewish thought was\nAlexandria. There from the time of the captivity a large colony of\nJews had been established. This colony became in many respects almost\nindependent of Jerusalem in religion; it formed and translated its own\ncanon of sacred writings, and even set up a temple of its own. Speaking\nthe Greek language and living in the most cosmopolitan city of the\nworld, the meeting-ground of eastern and western thought, the Jews of\nAlexandria were naturally affected by the speculative activity of Greek\nphilosophy. The high development of Judaism encouraged speculation in\nits adherents. The Jewish philosopher had not, like the Pagan, to cast\nhis religion aside when he began to seek out the causes of things;\non the contrary, his religion seemed to cover a great part of the\nphilosophical path. Under these circumstances, it is not strange that a\nphilosophy should have arisen among the Alexandrian Jews.\n\nFor us this philosophy is represented by Philo, who was born about\ntwenty years before Christ. A Jew by birth, and nominally always one in\nreligion, Philo was so steeped in Pagan thought that he really ranks\nas a Greek philosopher. The chief object of his life was to reconcile\nJudaism and Hellenism, to give a philosophical reason for every feature\nof the Jewish religion. In fulfilment of this purpose, he handled\nJudaism with considerable freedom, and bent its simple theology into a\nmystical Platonism.\n\nThe tendency which inevitably characterized philosophy to push God back\nfrom contact with creation, and to preserve his shadowy glory as an\nabsolute being, of course influenced Philo, who simply as a philosopher\nwas bound to be a pure theist. But as a Jew also, Philo was bound to\nbe a pure theist, with the most reverent conception of God. Thus two\nforces acted on him, as a Jew and as a Greek philosopher, driving him\nto the most refined theism, and this double pressure produced what\nProfessor Huxley calls Philo\u2019s agnosticism. He was compelled to form a\nconception of God utterly inconsistent with his character as creator\nof the world. Philo could not imagine that God had any relations with\nmatter, or that he contemplated anything except the world of his own\nideas. So philosophy, helped by his monotheistic religion, forced Philo\nto pursue the path of theological development which I have described\nabove, to leave God in his pure essence absolute and unknown, and to\nattribute all the phenomena of creation to a mediator between this pure\nessence and created things.\n\nIn Judaism, language had already been used which, taken literally,\nalmost described such a mediator. Wisdom had been spoken of as God\u2019s\ncompanion before creation and his assistant or agent in all that he had\ndone.[89] In a passage of the Psalms the word of God had been called\nthe maker of the heavens.[90] Language of this kind probably was merely\nthe result of the inveterate tendency of the Jewish mind to express\nitself by means of personification and symbolism, and had no mystical\nsignificance. But the passage last referred to, derived of course from\nthe formula of creation in the first chapter of Genesis, seems to have\nguided Philo in his difficulty. He made the \u201cWord\u201d of God the required\nmediator, God\u2019s agent and representative in all his actions.[91]\n\nPhilo\u2019s conception of the Word is shrouded in the deepest mysticism. In\nlanguage worthy of the Athanasian Creed, he asserts that it is neither\ncreated nor uncreated.[92] At one time he makes it distinct from\nGod, at another a simple manifestation of God. These contradictions\nreveal his meaning only the more plainly. He regarded the Word as\nthe modification of God which necessarily preceded creation, God\nthe relative, while God the absolute remained outside it and yet\nnot separate from it. Contradiction, of course, was inevitable. As\na monotheist, for him there could be but one God; as a theistic\nphilosopher, he had to push this God back from contact with the world.\nHence he was compelled to imagine a manifestation of God, distinct from\nhim and yet mystically one with him, to bear the burden of creation,\nand to represent the divine nature with all outside itself.\n\nOn the theological system of Philo, which was widely diffused at\nthe period of its greatest danger from the pressure of Paganism,\nChristianity now drew largely to avert its ruin. This product of Pagan\nmysticism was exactly what it needed at the time. It was in danger,\nthrough its deification of Christ, of losing its monotheism and of\nworshipping a human God. By identifying Christ with Philo\u2019s Word, every\ndifficulty was overcome. The doctrine of an incarnation of a divine\nbeing in a human form had already entered into Asiatic religion, and,\nin a more familiar shape, was a common feature of western Paganism.\nChrist, as the Word made flesh, could be raised to the level of\nGod without destroying monotheism; the Jewish God, as the absolute\nand unknown, could be reduced to the position of a constitutional\nsovereign; by a mystery the impulses of the Church could be satisfied,\nand yet the purity of Christianity be preserved.\n\n\u201cPhilo,\u201d says Professor Kuenen, \u201cgave the Church a formula commensurate\nwith her ideas of her founder.\u201d[93] But Philo really did much more. He\ngave the Church a means of reconciling conflicting tendencies within\nit, of satisfying at once the higher and the lower class of religious\ninstincts. And by doing so he saved Christianity. If this means of\nreconciliation had not been provided, Christianity would have sunk to\nthe level of Paganism, and would have fallen among the ruins of the\nempire. Still we must not conclude that the doctrine of the mystic\nunion of the persons of the Trinity was, except in a secondary sense,\nderived from Philo. Primarily it was derived from the necessities\nof Christianity. By deifying Christ, the Church prepared the way\nfor that doctrine and the dogma of the Incarnation depending on it.\nBefore Philonism entered into Christianity, Christ was man made God;\nafterwards he was God made man; but before and after alike he was the\nobject of Christian worship.\n\nThe Church adhered closely to the philosophical basis of the doctrine.\nChrist, as the Word, was made the sole instrument of creation,\nGod the relative; God the absolute, the Jewish God, was left in\nlonely supremacy, unnoticed except in the theological philosophy of\nChristianity. We can see the doctrine in its early shape best in the\nfourth gospel, which was written about the middle of the first half\nof the second century, in order to give it a basis in the life of\nChrist.[94] The gospel was probably composed in Asia Minor, where\nGnosticism and the Asiatic fondness for mystery would naturally\nfacilitate the development of the doctrine. \u201cIn the beginning was the\nWord, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. All things were\nmade by means of him, and without him was not anything made.\u201d[95] That\nis, at the beginning of creation, the Word existed with and as God, and\nbecame the agent by whom all things were created. But of course to the\nChurch the Incarnation was the most important fact. \u201cThe Word became\nflesh;\u201d[96] Christ was God incarnate. The Church might now safely\nworship its founder. As God, the human Christ could be adored, while\nnominally monotheism was maintained.\n\nIt was long before the doctrine was finally settled. Not until early\nin the fourth century, at the Council of Nic\u00e6a, did the Church define\nthe dogma in its fulness. During this period different opinions\nprevailed respecting it, until at last, on the question of Arianism,\ntwo great parties made it their battle-ground. In the controversy\nthe orthodox contention was philosophically justifiable. Christ, as\nGod the relative, had to be of one substance with God the absolute,\nor no absolute God remained; while if in substance also he was not\neternal, he ceased to be God at all. Arianism, in fact, was simply\nChristian rationalism; it endeavoured to explain the relationship\nof God the Father and God the Son. But the essence of the dogma is\npure inexplicable mystery, and rationalism could not touch it without\ndestroying it. In the Nicene Creed it is stated in its proper form.\n\u201cI believe in one God, maker of heaven and earth, and in one Lord\nJesus Christ, the only-begotten son of God, begotten of his father\nbefore all worlds, very God of very God, begotten, not made, being of\none substance with the Father, by whom all things were made.\u201d Here\nthe philosophical basis of the dogma is shown in the clearest manner.\nGod was modified and Christ produced before creation began, and by\nmeans of Christ the work of creation was performed. We must carefully\nremember that the Nicene Council did not assert the eternal existence\nof Christ as a distinct being. He existed eternally, but in God the\nabsolute before the creation of things. This is declared plainly in\nthe damnatory clauses attached to the original creed by the Council,\none of which anathematized him who should say that Christ had not\nexisted before he was begotten. It was not until long afterwards,\nin the Athanasian Creed, that the eternal existence of Christ as a\nperson of the then fully developed Trinity was made a dogma of the\nChurch, notwithstanding the absurd contradiction in terms involved in\nits statement. As expressed in the Nicene Creed, putting aside the\nmisleading words \u201cFather\u201d and \u201cSon,\u201d inherited from an earlier belief,\nthere is no such direct contradiction in the doctrine. God as one\nexisted eternally; God as two persons only from the beginning of things.\n\nThus the mystery of one God in two became a part of Christianity. The\nChurch believed in God, and worshipped him as manifested in Christ.\nThe incarnation of God was henceforth the doctrine dearest to the\nChristian. His God was thus brought near to him, and presented to him\nin a form he could readily grasp. And, besides, the love felt by the\nChurch for its founder was strengthened by the belief that he had\nrenounced divine glory to come to the assistance of men. The God who\nhad become man in his love for men, and for their sakes had endured\nsuffering and shame, inspired the passionate devotion which, in the\ndarkness of medieval Christianity, shone with a blaze of light. As the\nfigure of the human Christ faded away in the dim distances of the past,\nthe figure of the divine Christ was able to replace it, and to kindle\nanew the flame of zeal which had marked the beginning of the Church.\n\nThe second great dogma of Christianity had now been developed. The\nIncarnation took its stand beside the Atonement in the doctrines of\nthe Church. Henceforth Christian theology was a mixture of Judaism and\nPaganism. For when this new essentially Pagan dogma of the Incarnation\nwas added on, the old essentially Jewish dogma of the Atonement had\nentered too deeply into the life of Christianity to be laid aside.\nBoth had to be accepted by the Christian. And, unfortunately, they\nhappened to be utterly inconsistent. The doctrine that Christ had borne\nthe penalty of human sins, and had died as an atoning victim, did not\nharmonize with the doctrine that Christ was God. That God has forgiven\nhuman sins and laid the penalty on a victim chosen for the purpose, is\na doctrine strange indeed, but perfectly natural when viewed from a\nJewish standpoint; but that God has forgiven human sins and laid the\npenalty on himself is a doctrine which, viewed from any standpoint,\ncannot be other than a hopeless puzzle.\n\nIncompatible as the two dogmas are, Christian theologians of course\nhave endeavoured to reconcile them. Only one explanation of the\ndifficulty has been seriously offered. This is, that an absolutely\nsinless victim was required to become an atonement for human sins,\nand that such a victim could not be found outside the person of God\nhimself. A reference to Pauline Christianity at once disposes of this\nexplanation. Even if Christ as merely a man could not be sinless,\nhe might be more than man without being actually God. From its very\nbeginning, the Church regarded Christ, as the Messiah, as one greater\nthan ordinary men, though still thoroughly human. Long before the\ndogma of the Incarnation was in existence, Christians looked on Christ\nas sinless, and connected his sinlessness with the Atonement.[97]\nNevertheless, the explanation is the best available. It has created\nthe doctrine of the \u201ccontract in the council of the Trinity,\u201d as Mr.\nArnold calls it. God the Father\u2019s sense of justice could be satisfied\nonly by the self-sacrificing love of God the Son, and hence the death\nof Christ upon the cross. It is certainly a characteristic example of a\ntheological explanation.\n\nThe two great dogmas remained really irreconcilable. The Jewish dogma\nof the Atonement and the Pagan dogma of the Incarnation entered into\nChristianity as the results of opposite religious tendencies, and\nthey could never be brought into harmony. The inevitable attempt to\nreconcile them is chiefly responsible for the formation of the complex\nmass of theology which so greatly distinguishes Christianity. One or\nthe other can strongly influence individual Christians, but it is\nimpossible for both at once to occupy the same mind.\n\nNow that we have examined the chief consequences of the transition from\nJewish to Pagan Christianity, and dealt with the greater part of the\ndoctrine of the Trinity, we must investigate the means by which that\ndoctrine was completed by the inclusion of the third person, the Holy\nSpirit.\n\nThroughout the earlier books of the New Testament we find constant\nreferences to the Spirit as a presence abiding with the Church. As\nused most frequently, the term simply means inspiration, the influence\nof God on individual Christians. This sense was derived directly from\nthe Old Testament. Jahveh\u2019s messengers to his people are there often\ndescribed as filled with his spirit, as inspired by him for their\nmission. Naturally the early Church believed that this inspiration\nwas continued under the new dispensation, and that the apostles, its\nleaders, were filled with the spirit of God to enable them to perform\ntheir work. But a new feature was introduced into the belief; the\nChurch held that not merely leading Christians but all Christians were\nthus filled with the spirit of God. This was the natural consequence\nof the Messianic prophecies. Among the glories of the Messianic times,\nthe prophets often included, as the result of the reconciliation of\nJahveh and Israel, the resting of the inspiration of God on all his\npeople, all being his servants just as they were themselves. Of course\nthe early Jewish Christians applied these prophecies to themselves, and\nbelieved that the spirit of God rested on all the people of his true\nIsrael, the Christian Church.\n\nBut in the early books of the New Testament we also find the term\n\u201cspirit\u201d used in a sense applicable only to a distinct being. St. Paul,\nin a remarkable passage, speaks of the Spirit as interceding with God\nfor man.[98] In order to understand the origin of this belief of the\nearly Church that the spirit of God, as a distinct being, sustained\nit in its struggle with the world, it must be remembered that the\nJewish Christians regarded Christianity as a movement from among the\nunconverted Jews similar to the movement of ancient Israel from among\nthe Egyptians. They continually looked for analogies between their\ncircumstances and what was related of the exodus from Egypt. An angel\nwas believed to have led the Israelites against their enemies,[99] and\nthe Church would naturally expect a corresponding representative of God\nto watch over its progress. But by the prophets the name \u201cspirit\u201d had\nbeen given to this angel;[100] and so the early Christians, believing\nthat the spirit of God rested on the Church, personified it vaguely\nand made it a divine representative abiding continually with them.\nThey regarded it as the substitute for the personal presence of Christ\nwhich had come to them immediately after his death. And thus the belief\nin the Holy Spirit was connected with the expectation of the second\nadvent; it had come when Christ had left the Church, and when he\nreturned its mission would be ended.\n\nWhen the expectation of the second advent was abandoned, and a stay on\nearth after his death was assigned to Christ, the Church\u2019s ideas of\nthe Spirit underwent a further development. As it was the substitute\nfor his presence, it could only have come after his ascension. Just as\nthe ascension had been imagined as a suitable close of Christ\u2019s stay\non earth, so now a solemn ceremony was imagined to mark the entrance\nof the Spirit on its mission. The day of Pentecost, the recognized\nanniversary of the delivery of the law on Mount Sinai, appeared the\nfittest time for this ceremony.[101] As the founding of the law was\nregarded as the true beginning of the life of Israel, the coming of the\nSpirit seemed to match it and to form the true beginning of the life\nof the Christian Church. The construction of this tradition, as we\nhave it in the Acts of the Apostles, was one of the last results of the\ninfluence of Judaism on Christianity.\n\nAt about the same time this influence was shown in another doctrine\nin connection with the belief in the Holy Spirit. I have already\nsaid that, when the mainly Pagan dogma of the miraculous conception\nof Christ was created, Jewish Christianity was able slightly to\nspiritualize it. By making the Spirit the agent on the divine side of\nthat conception, the dogma was as far as possible purified from its\ntaint of grossness.\n\nUntil after the time of the Nicene Council, the general belief in the\nHoly Spirit remained in this vague undefined form. The Church regarded\nit as a personified influence, and gave it little attention. In the\nNicene Creed there is no dogma of the Trinity; only two persons of\nthe Trinity as yet existed. In the fully developed Creed merely vague\nlanguage is applied to the Spirit; it is spoken of as a distinct being,\nbut its union with the Father and the Son is not asserted. The phrase,\n\u201cWho proceedeth from the Father and the Son,\u201d shows, as Feuerbach\npoints out,[102] how loose an idea of personality was attached to it,\nand is very different from the precise terms in which the Creed defines\nthe production of the Son. The subsequent dispute between the Eastern\nand Western Churches in reference to the \u201cfilioque\u201d of the Latin form\nof this Creed rendered it impossible for Christian theology to remain\nsatisfied with the Nicene definition of the Spirit. Always regarded as\ndivine, there was now a natural tendency to declare it to be God. A\nmystery of three in one was a puzzle no more perplexing than a mystery\nof two in one. And so the Holy Spirit was included in the divine\nGovernment, and the dogma of the Trinity was complete.\n\nThe full doctrine of the Trinity, philosophically expressed, is this.\nGod the Father is God the absolute, incomprehensible and unapproachable\nby created things. God the Son is part of God the relative, the creator\nand saviour of the world. God the Holy Spirit is the rest of God the\nrelative, the sustainer and guide of the world. Thus it is evident\nthat the third person of the Trinity philosophically has no existence;\nits functions are only carved out of those of the second. And this\nphilosophical non-existence of the third person has its reflection in\ntheology. In spite of the Athanasian Creed, the Holy Spirit is only\na shadow in Christian belief. Intellectually the sincere Christian\nis convinced of the existence of God the Father; emotionally he is\nconvinced of the existence of God the Son; but of the existence of God\nthe Holy Spirit he is not convinced at all, and he asserts it merely in\nthe empty forms of traditional dogma.\n\nWe have now dealt with all the chief dogmas of Christianity. The\nAtonement, the Incarnation, the full doctrine of the Trinity, and the\nmore important of the circumstances believed to be connected with the\nlife and death of Christ\u2014in fact, all the dogmas of the Creeds, have\npassed under our review. Only minor doctrines, in regard to which there\nare differences of opinion among Christians, remain to be noticed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VI.\n\nCATHOLIC AND PROTESTANT CHRISTIANITY.\n\n\nFrom the time of the completion of the doctrine of the Incarnation,\nChristianity steadily advanced towards Paganism. Gradually all the\ncharacteristics of polytheism crept into the Church. Idolatry, embodied\nspecially in an important doctrine to be mentioned presently, was\nembodied generally in the worship of images. The great principle of\nlocal government in religion which distinguished Pagan polytheism\nbecame Christian by the worship of saints. This was soon the chief\nfeature of ordinary Christianity. To the average Christian the local\nsaint appeared the representative of heaven, the appointed agent\nthrough whom heavenly blessings were to be obtained. The Christian\ndoctrine of the soul\u2019s immortality, originally derived from Judaism,\nwas Paganised into a resemblance to the ideas on the subject which had\nvaguely entered into most forms of Paganism. The old belief of the\nJewish Church that dead Christians \u201cslept\u201d until the resurrection had\nbecome heretical by the middle of the third century.[103] The doctrine\nof purgatorial penance was introduced into Christianity. For this,\nindeed, quite apart from Pagan influence, there was a very good reason.\nIn the early days of the Church, with the moral influence of Judaism\nstill strong on it, and the danger of persecution keeping it pure from\nunworthy members, probably almost all Christians were fairly good.\nBeing good, they were fit for heaven or the heavenly reign of Christ;\nand so there was no difficulty in making the simple acceptance of\nChristianity the test of salvation. But when the Church became popular,\nand especially when it became the acknowledged religious system of\nthe empire, it was plain that a large proportion of its members were\nby no means fit for heaven. And yet, with its looser Pagan hold on\nmorality, it did not care to consign to damnation faithful believers in\nits doctrines. The old ideas, latent generally in Paganism, and given\nspecial expression in the mysteries, of penal purification from evil\nexactly met the difficulty, and accordingly they were incorporated in\nChristianity. As before in the case of the Incarnation, it was the\nneed of the Church that really created the doctrine; Paganism only\ndetermined its form.\n\nChristianity took all its supernaturalism of evil from Judaism, that\nis, from the later developments of Judaism, with hardly the slightest\nchange. The belief in a chief devil, having subordinates under him, in\nhell or some such kind of irrevocable punishment, characterized late\nJudaism as much as Christianity. In general, this supernaturalism of\nevil was less strongly developed in Pagan religions, or rather, to\nspeak more precisely, it was a feature of eastern far more than of\nwestern theology. Still Christian Paganism, though mainly western,\nhad no difficulty in accepting it, and it afterwards became the chief\nsupport of medieval superstition.\n\nThe decline and final ruin of the empire of Rome transformed the\noutward structure of Christianity. The empire died under the hands\nof northern barbarians, but it attained a resurrection in the shape\nof the Papal Church. After the separation of the Eastern and Western\nChurches, the line of Christian development passed through the latter\nalone, the former remaining stagnant in consequence of its union with\npolitical despotism. The free Church of the west, becoming the real\nrepresentative of Christianity, gradually embodied in itself all the\nattributes of imperial power. The Pope succeeded the Emperor; bishops\nsucceeded the provincial legates; the religious tyranny of Catholicism\nsucceeded the political tyranny of Cesarism. The pomp and ceremonial\nof the empire were transferred to the Church. The spirit of sensuous\nworship latent always in Christian Paganism of course was encouraged\nby this, and expressed itself in a complex ritual. But most of all\nCatholic imperialism exalted the clergy above the laity.\n\nThis exaltation of the clergy was the direct result of the transference\nof the imperial power to the Church. The long reign of despotism in the\nempire had unfitted the people of it for any approach to freedom. Just\nas formerly they had submitted to the material power which had had its\ncentre in Rome, so now they submitted to the spiritual power which had\nits centre in Rome. Only by the slow training of many centuries was\npart of the population of Europe prepared for resistance to clerical\ntyranny. The Reformation rested on the political development of the\npeoples among whom it was successful. The clergy were the guardians,\nfor good or for evil, of the childhood of the modern world.\n\nThe complicated system of sacraments which now arose in Christianity\nwas largely the expression of priestly power. The distinction made\nbetween clergy and laity in the celebration of the Eucharist showed\nthis in its clearest form. But most of all the power of absolution gave\nthe priest an unlimited supremacy. Holding the keys of heaven and of\nhell, he was the master of the Christian\u2019s soul. The foundation of this\ndoctrine, as well as that of the general recognition of an authority\npeculiar to the clergy, was laid in the willing reverence felt by\nthe early Church for the apostles, for the men who had actually seen\nits founder. Clerical despotism cannot be ascribed to the spirit of\nPaganism as distinguished from the spirit of Judaism. But still, in its\nextreme development under the pressure of changes in the Pagan world,\nit was a Pagan feature of Christianity.\n\nA most important distinctly Pagan doctrine was connected with this idea\nof clerical sanctity. I have already referred to the belief of the\nearly Church that the body and blood of Christ were really present in\nthe elements of the Eucharist. It is quite clear from the language of\nSt. Paul that this belief in the real presence was not a belief that\nthe elements were actually changed into Christ\u2019s body and blood.[104]\nBy the faith of the communicant the sacrament was accomplished, and\nwithout faith it had no existence. The Eucharist was evidently then\nregarded as a constantly recurring sacrament of the once offered\nsacrifice of Christ\u2019s death, which it commemorated and declared until\nhe came again. That this was an exceedingly delicate doctrine which\ncould be easily misinterpreted is obvious. It naturally developed into\na grosser form when Paganism, with its leaning towards idolatry, became\nparamount in the Church. The elements were then formally consecrated,\nand were regarded as the actual flesh and blood of Christ. As his body,\nthey were laid on the altar and made an object of worship. This, of\ncourse, was simple idolatry. United with the dogma of the Incarnation,\nit enabled the Christian to adore God as visibly present in a material\nshape. The doctrine was connected with the exaltation of the clergy,\nas the power of consecration was confined to them. Thus the sacrament\nof the Eucharist became the sacrifice of the mass. The elements being\nactually changed into his flesh and blood, Christ was again made a\nvictim; his sacrificial death was repeated as often as the ceremony;\nand so the Jewish dogma of the Atonement was linked with ideas utterly\nantagonistic to Judaism.[105]\n\nThe deification of the Virgin Mary was another wholly Pagan development\nof Christianity. Female divinities were common in Pagan polytheism,\nand female saints replaced them in Christian Paganism. After Christ,\nas man, had been made the God of Christianity, this tendency to give\nboth sexes divine representatives produced the exaltation of the Virgin\nas his female correlative. She became the goddess of Christianity,\nthe real third person of the Trinity, as Feuerbach calls her.[106] As\nmother and wife of God, she satisfied the human instincts of Pagan\nreligion; and so the Church ultimately put all heavenly power into her\nhands. The asceticism of later Christianity at the same time created\nthe dogma of her perpetual virginity. At last, as a divine being, she\nwas encircled with an atmosphere of miraculous privilege even from\nbefore her birth.\n\nThe most striking feature of Pagan Christianity, monasticism, was due\nto a variety of causes. In part it had its origin in the personal\ncharacter of Christ. His insistence on inward purity was not far\nremoved from asceticism. But though monastic asceticism may have had\nsome of its roots in later developments of Judaism, it was foreign\nto Judaism as a whole. Judaism was remarkable for its clearness and\nbalance; it pushed nothing too far. Monasticism in reality was chiefly\nderived from eastern Paganism, from the tendency towards asceticism\nso common in Oriental religions. The same tendency produced another\nimportant effect on western Christianity, namely, the celibacy of the\nregular clergy. When this became an accepted doctrine, the finishing\ntouch was given to clerical power. Henceforth the Roman Church was the\nmost highly organized ecclesiastical system the world has ever seen.\nWith no recognized interests outside his calling, every priest belonged\nbody and soul to a vast disciplined mass which moved and acted like\none man.\n\nThus highly organized, the Church plunged into the darkest period of\nthe Middle Ages. For the evils of this period Christianity cannot\nfairly be held responsible, except in so far as it contributed to the\nruin of the Roman empire. Throughout it, on the whole, the Church\nwas a centre of light, keeping alive the embers of civilization, and\nsoftening the barbarous tendencies of the time. But in passing through\nit Christianity suffered fearfully. The ignorance and harshness and\ncorruption of the age were stamped ineffaceably upon it. And this was\ninevitable. In every civilized country at almost every time there are\nsure to be two forms of the general religion, one popular, the other\nthat of the more educated classes. The popular religion, resting on\nignorance, is always a mere superstition; the other religion, kept\nclear by partial knowledge from offensive crudities, is the recognized\nform. But during the worst period of the Middle Ages there was no\nsuch distinction; all religion was popular; even the highest classes\nwere hopelessly lost in superstition. The gloom of this superstition,\nthe shadow of the wretchedness of the age, left a lasting mark on\nChristianity. The terror of life was transferred to death; death was\nassociated with the most repulsive images, and closely connected with\nhell. The fear of hell became the motive power of religion; to escape\nhell was to the Christian the end of life.[107] The superstitious\nelements from which Christianity is now struggling to release itself\nwere mainly developed in its passage through this period.\n\nDuring it the moral corruption of Christianity was enormous. The Church\nlaid stress, not on righteous conduct, but on orthodox thinking.\nHeresy was irremediably damnable, but crimes and sins could be easily\ncompounded for. The immorality of the clergy, due partly to the general\ncorruption of the time, and partly to their legal celibacy, was closely\nconnected with the toleration of sin shown in the action of the Church.\nRotten itself, the ecclesiastical power was ever ready, in return for\nmaterial benefits, to open the gates of heaven to secular sinners.\nThe whole course of medieval Christianity was a progress towards the\ndoctrine of indulgences which immediately provoked the Reformation.\n\nThe moral decline of Christianity was the mark of its progress towards\nPaganism. It receded further from its original basis in Judaism as its\ndogmas became more complex and its hold on morality more uncertain.\nThe complexity of doctrine encouraged the decline in morality,\nreligious attention being drawn by it from practical conduct to the\nconsideration of nice points of theology. A reaction against this\ntendency was inevitable. Christianity had shared in the descent of\nEuropean civilization, and when European civilization began to ascend,\nChristianity had to ascend along with it. But the reaction, as it was\nagainst a corruption which was inextricably linked with the Paganism of\nthe Church, could not fail to oppose itself to Paganism, that is, to\nrecoil back to Judaism. And this is the explanation of the Reformation.\nIt was the revival of Judaism in Christianity. As the revival of Jewish\nChristianity, it was sure to occur sooner or later; once the thought\nand knowledge of Europe awakened from their medieval slumber, the\nrevolt against Paganism was bound to begin. The renewal of intellectual\nlife involved the renewal of moral life. The restored conscience of\nEurope would protest first against the later corruptions of Pagan\nChristianity; but these were inseparably connected with earlier ones,\nand so step by step reformers would have to ascend along the line,\nuntil at last they would find themselves the champions of Jewish\nChristianity, contending against the forces of Paganism.\n\nThus the great schism which the Reformation caused in Christianity was\ninevitable from the first. Paganism could not be eradicated by the\nrevival of Judaism. The more ignorant and backward races were sure to\ncling to it in opposition to the progressive spirit which revolted\nfrom it. The schism in Christianity was as inevitable as the schism\nwhich it occasioned in Judaism, the necessity of which was shown in\nour second chapter. And just as the expansion of Judaism which Christ\nmade a practical success was in its main features quite independent of\nthe influence of his personal character, so the main features of the\nReformation were determined apart from the personal influence of the\nReformers.\n\nFrom the time of the Reformation Jewish and Pagan Christianity stood\nside by side. Protestantism revived the principles of the early Church;\nCatholicism retained the principles of Paganism. Within the lifetime of\nLuther the change was accomplished. He himself, because he assailed one\nimmoral doctrine of the corrupt Roman Church, was forced to travel back\nalong fourteen centuries of religious development.\n\nOf course Protestantism cannot be exactly the same as the religion\nof the Jewish Church. Just as Pagan Christianity was compelled to\nretain Jewish dogmas, so Protestantism was compelled to retain Pagan\ndogmas. It had nothing to rest on except the Canon of Scripture, and\npart of the New Testament is Pagan in spirit. Accordingly, the dogmas\nof earlier Paganism, which were developed while it was still mixed\nwith Judaism in the Church, were preserved in Protestantism. It kept,\nfor instance, the great Pagan dogma of the Incarnation. Still, so far\nas general principle is concerned, Protestantism fairly represents\nJudaism, and Catholicism Paganism in Christianity. This is evident if\nthey are fully compared with each other.\n\nThe Pagan character of Catholicism has already been shown. As\nCatholicism\u2014and this term covers more than the Roman Church\u2014has\nretained all the doctrines which we have examined as representative\nof Paganism in Christianity, this is obvious. Similarly the non-Pagan\ncharacter of Protestantism is clear from its rejection of all the\nlater of these doctrines, from the worship of saints to the immaculate\nconception. Its Jewish character must be shown by a reference to the\nprinciples of our comparison of Judaism and Paganism.\n\nThe chief distinctive doctrine of Protestantism is justification\nby faith alone. That in this it resembles Jewish Christianity, a\nglance at St. Paul\u2019s epistles is sufficient to show. It is also\nplain that this doctrine is closely connected with the great Jewish\ndogma of the Atonement. According to it, sins are washed away by the\nblood of Christ, the victim offered to God. But the benefits of the\nsacrifice are obtained solely by faith; the merits of the Christian\ncannot enhance its value. Still more closely, however, is the\ndoctrine connected with the feature distinctive of Protestantism as\nof Judaism, its loftier conception of God. This, as was pointed out\nin our last chapter, is the peculiarity of monotheism, and it shows\nthe monotheistic character of Protestantism. Catholicism, having\ninherited polytheistic ideas from Paganism, naturally recognizes the\nvalue of man\u2019s good works. In the saints whom he worships the Catholic\nsees beings who, though they were once fallible like himself, have\nyet obtained heavenly authority; and, as he is thus conscious of no\nimportant difference between his divinities and himself, he is not\ndisposed to underestimate the worth of his virtue.\n\nAs a necessary consequence of its distinctive doctrine, Protestantism\nis characterized by humility. It depresses human excellence and\nheightens the sense of sin. In this it develops what were, as we saw\nbefore, the essential tendencies of Judaism. And, curiously enough, the\nphenomenon which appeared in Judaism\u2014theological humility more than\ncounterbalanced by exclusive pride\u2014appears also in the extreme forms\nof Protestantism. The religion of the Puritans was ultra-Protestant in\nits insistence on the utter sinfulness of human nature and the need\nof faith; and yet no class of men were ever prouder than they. Like\nthe Jews, they felt their pride as the people, the elect of God, who\nwere honoured by him above the rest of mankind. The same phenomenon\ncan be observed at the present day among the extreme Evangelical sects\nwhich keep the far frontier of Protestantism. In them we also find\ntheoretically religious humility, and practically the most intense\nreligious pride. And, indeed, both in these sects and in Puritanism\nwe see Protestantism fully developed in its likeness to its parent\nJudaism, with the harshness and exclusiveness of Judaism thinly veiled\nunder a nominal Christianity.\n\nAgain, Protestantism resembles Judaism in its higher morality.\nProtestants as a whole are certainly more moral than Catholics as\na whole. At first sight this seems remarkable, as morality is not\nencouraged by the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone.\nBut, as a matter of fact, the priestly absolution of Catholicism is\na much more immoral doctrine. In practice, as might be expected, the\nbelief in justification by faith alone does less mischief than the\nbelief that sins can be got rid of by a visit to the nearest church.\nOf course, in addition to this, the higher theology of Protestantism\nfavours morality, just as the higher theology of Judaism did. So far as\nit is purer and more rational than Catholicism, it naturally is more\nmoral, and allies itself less easily with ignorance and animalism.\n\nProtestantism, too, is like Judaism in having for its basis a written\nrevelation. The Bible is to Protestants what the law and the prophets\nwere to Jews. This feature of Protestantism is obviously connected with\nits depreciation of human excellence. It makes men simply vessels for\nthe reception of a finished system of religious truth. Catholicism, on\nthe other hand, by its assertion of a continuously inspired Church,\nwhich in every generation may develop new dogmas, plainly assigns a\nhigher position in religion to man.\n\nAs regards simplicity of thought and worship, there is clearly the same\nopposition between Protestantism and Catholicism that there was between\nJudaism and Paganism. Catholicism is remarkable more than Protestantism\nfor complexity of doctrine and sensuousness in worship. We will now\nconsider how far this opposition shows itself in their treatment of the\ngreat dogmas which nominally are common to them both.\n\nThe Atonement being the chief Jewish dogma of Christianity, we should\nexpect it to be more prominent in Protestantism than in Catholicism.\nAnd this is strictly the case. Catholicism lays no stress on the\ndoctrine. In a very able work by Mr. S. Baring-Gould, which presents\nthe religion of Catholicism in its truest form, the Atonement is made\nsimply symbolical, and the death of Christ is regarded as hardly\nnecessary to his work.[108] Protestantism, on the other hand, makes\nthe Atonement its primary dogma. \u201cThe blood of Jesus,\u201d is its central\ncry. It links the dogma with its distinctive doctrine; justification\nby faith in the reconciling death of Christ is the essence of its\ntheology, and sums up its multitudinous preaching.\n\nWe also find the great Pagan dogma of Christianity, the Incarnation,\nmore prominent in Catholicism than in Protestantism. That God became\nman is the central assertion of Catholicism, on which it bases its\nhigher estimation of human dignity. This can plainly be seen in the\nwork last referred to, where the Incarnation is regarded as the\ncondition of theistic religion.[109] But it is still more evident\nin the tendency of Catholic theology to exalt the divinity at the\nexpense of the humanity of Christ, for manifestly the doctrine of the\nIncarnation is expanded and made more important in proportion as the\ndifference between it and the original Jewish belief in the simple\nhumanity of Christ is increased. The Athanasian Creed is thoroughly\nCatholic, and its definition of the nature of Christ involves the\ndestruction of his human personality. Catholic theologians have boldly\nadopted this conclusion, and assert that his personality is wholly\ndivine.[110] Instinctively the Catholic always thinks of Christ as God.\n\nProtestantism, on the contrary, never dwells on the Incarnation. The\nextreme Evangelical sects, in which its principles are fully developed,\nare perpetually drifting towards Unitarianism. But, as in the case\nof Catholicism, its interpretation of the doctrine best reveals its\ntendencies. It exalts the humanity at the expense of the divinity of\nChrist. It holds him up as an example in a manner which implies his\nhuman personality. Instinctively the Protestant always thinks of Christ\nas man.\n\nIn their treatment of the Eucharist the respective characteristics of\nCatholicism and Protestantism are also evident. We have already seen\nthe Paganism of the Catholic doctrine of the real presence. Equally the\ntwo Protestant doctrines show the influence of Judaism on Christianity.\nThe first, the Evangelical doctrine, which allows the Eucharist no\nsacramental value, and makes it simply a commemoration of the sacrament\nwhich accompanied the sacrifice of Christ\u2019s death, was probably the\nbelief of the Jewish Church at its very beginning; the second, and more\ngeneral one, which asserts the real presence, but only in a spiritual\nsense through the faith of the communicant, we know to have been the\nbelief of the later Jewish Church in the time of St. Paul. If it were\nnot for the pressure of Catholicism, it is likely that the second would\nbe the doctrine of all forms of Protestantism. But when Catholics have\nso exaggerated the real presence, Protestants, by a natural reaction,\nare tempted to deny it altogether.\n\nThus the two systems of religion which Christianity seemed to unite\nhave plainly parted again. The Judaism in which it was born, and the\nPaganism in which it reached its maturity, stand once more side by\nside. And not merely does Christianity reveal so manifestly that great\nopposing forces met in its history, but in reality every important\nfeature of the long course of development which has been the subject\nof our survey, is recorded as clearly in its present structure as\nthe chief conditions of the past evolution which has produced it are\nrecorded in the structure of an animal organism.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER VII.\n\nTHE PERMANENCE OF DOGMATIC RELIGION.\n\n\nIn the course of our inquiry, one fact has been made strikingly\nmanifest, namely, the persistence of religious ideas. We found that\nChristianity at its beginning was only the result of a tendency long\nlatent in Judaism, that its doctrines were wholly Jewish while its\nadherents were chiefly Jews, and that afterwards, when Pagans in large\nnumbers entered the Church, they carried with them and made Christian\nthe principles of their Pagan religions. Similarly we saw that no new\nreligion was created by the Reformation, that it was merely an instance\nof reversion, of the falling back of part of Christianity to an older\ntype. In fact, from our study of this subject, we might conclude that\nreligious ideas are practically indestructible, or, at least, that they\ncan only be modified by gradual processes working during long periods\nof time.\n\nThis conclusion would be unquestionably correct, and it especially\nneeds to be insisted on at the present moment. A conviction is general\namong enlightened men that we are on the threshold of a great religious\nrevolution, which is to be effected by the speedy destruction of\nChristianity and the consequent abolition of supernatural religion.\nThere seems to be some reason for this belief. Within the last\nhalf-century Christianity has declined considerably. Thought and\nculture have broken loose from it. Fifty years ago the vast majority\nof the men of letters and science of Europe professed some form of it;\nnow only a small minority do so, and even this minority is steadily\ngrowing smaller. We might predict with almost absolute certainty that\nfifty years hence hardly a single believer in dogmatic Christianity\nwill be found among the leading men of European literature and science.\nChristianity is dying at the top.\n\nThere is a certain resemblance between this state of things and the\ncondition of the Roman world at the time Christianity was beginning to\nconquer it. Pagan religions then were dying at the top. Philosophers\ndespised them and wits laughed at them; the thought of the age was\nas completely agnostic as the thought of our own day is tending to\nbecome. A thinker, studying the phenomena of the period, might then\nhave reasonably concluded that supernatural religion was destined\nspeedily to perish, that, as men of learning had abandoned it, after\na short time their views would spread downwards, and be adopted by\nall classes of the people. How exquisitely this conclusion would\nhave been exposed by the irony of history! Ten centuries later the\nreligious ideas then current among the populace were common to every\nclass, and the descendants and representatives of the philosophers who\nrejected super-naturalism were employing their philosophical powers\nin determining exactly the nature of angels. Perhaps the future is\npreparing a similar exposure for the philosophers of our own day, who\nare confident that supernatural religion will soon be a curiosity of\nthe past. A few centuries hence, if esoteric Buddhism shall take the\nplace of Christianity, perhaps philosophy will be engaged in explaining\nthe meaning of \u201ckarma,\u201d and science will be occupied in ascertaining\nthe exact nature of an astral body.\n\nSupernaturalism has just as much vitality now as it had a century\nafter Christ. Even if within the next few hundred years Christianity\nwere to become wholly extinct, the ideas underlying it would simply\nbe transferred to some other form of dogmatic religion. The decline\nof Christianity now, like the decline of the Paganism of the Roman\nempire, so far as it is real, is the prelude to the formation of new\nreligions. If the support to which the religious ideas of a generation\nhave attached themselves is overthrown, they soon find another system\nto sustain them. The fall of an old religion is the signal for the rise\nof a new.\n\nSigns of this transfer of religious allegiance are distinctly visible\nat present. There is the same mixture of credulity and scepticism\nnow that there was in the first century of the Christian era. We,\ntoo, have a philosophical class intensely sceptical, but we also\nhave a class of people who are eager votaries of new religions and\nexcessively credulous. The credulity of the many is the consequence of\nthe scepticism of the few, and is the mark of religious change. It now\ncharacterizes those whose faith in Christianity is shaken, but in whom\nreligious ideas are as strong as ever.\n\nThe religious ideas now embodied in Christianity and stamped\non the general mass of mankind come under the head of dogmatic\nsupernaturalism; they are most of them concerned with God, personal\nimmortality, heaven, and hell. This dogmatic supernaturalism began\nwith the earliest illusions which created religion thousands of years\nago. Since then, with every step of his upward progress, man has been\nmore and more the slave of religious dogma. The higher religions of\nhistorical times have multiplied assertions about unknown phenomena;\nChristianity, the highest of religions, has done so most of all. Having\ninherited, then, this vast inheritance of belief in supernatural\ndogma, which began to accumulate in the remotest ages, and has since\nbeen enlarged and made sure by the great religion which for fifteen\nhundred years has been identified with the main civilization of the\nworld, how can men of our own day lightly shake off supernaturalism!\nA few here and there, as variations from the general type necessarily\nlimited in number, may manage to put it aside after a severe contest\nwith the irrational instincts which they have inherited. But so far as\nthe mass of mankind are concerned, ages must elapse before the work of\nages can be undone.\n\nJust as in the first century the disbelief of philosophers had\ndiscredited the Pagan religions, so now the disbelief of men of\nthought is discrediting Christianity. And as a certain class of Pagans\nthen turned from the discredited religions to find another basis for\ntheir religious ideas, so now a certain class of people are seeking\na basis for their religious ideas apparently surer than discredited\nChristianity. There is a difference of degree between the two periods;\nChristianity is not yet as much discredited as the Pagan religions\nwere when it attacked them. We have not yet reached the condition of\nthe time when the mysteries were the last props of Paganism, and the\nimportation of foreign religions was one of the recognized industries\nof Rome. But the seeds of the development of such phenomena are\nplainly visible. Spiritualism and the Psychical Research Society are\nthe rudiments of Christian mysteries, and certainly attempts on a small\nscale are being made to import religions into London from Syria and\nIndia.\n\nHere in England between the large class of those who still believe in\nChristianity and the small class of those who put the supernatural\nwholly aside lies the class, continually increasing in numbers, of\nthose who have lost faith in Christianity, but have not lost faith in\nthe ideas which form the essence of it. Books like \u201cEsoteric Buddhism\u201d\nand Mr. Laurance Oliphant\u2019s \u201cSympneumata\u201d are written for and by\nmembers of this class. The absurd weakness of such attempts to give the\nsupernatural a natural basis does not in the least detract from their\npopular power.\n\nLife is full of inevitable illusions, and only a few are in a position\nto detect their illusive character. In regard to these illusions,\nthe belief of the great majority of mankind must be determined by\nauthority; they can only choose between alternative authorities. And\ntheir choice cannot rest on strong grounds of personal conviction. The\nclass of people just mentioned, for instance, who have lost faith in\nChristianity, for the most part could give but poor reasons for their\nrefusal to accept its dogmas. They simply feel that it is discredited,\nand they do not like to be on the losing side. Any system which\nembodies their religious ideas, and does not appear to be discredited,\nthey will believe in readily, even though it has not a particle of\nevidence to support it.\n\nMoreover, when men in general have to choose between authorities whose\nreal weight they are not in a position to determine, their wishes\nnaturally affect their choice. If one alternative is pleasanter than\nthe other, they are sure to decide in its favour. Take, for instance,\nthe belief in personal immortality. This rests on an illusion which\ncan be seen through only by the exercise of a certain amount of\nphilosophical imagination, namely, the impossibility of conceiving its\nown extinction inherent in the mind\u2019s consciousness of life. As every\none wishes to be immortal, that is, shrinks from the return to his\npre-natal non-existence; and as nearly every one, besides, has lost\nsome loved relative or friend whose death he cannot bear to think of as\na final effacement, most people are quite ready to accept this illusion\nas valid evidence of the truth of the belief. Thus a religious system\nwhich asserts the immortality of the soul so far has mankind on its\nside. And the long influence of Christianity, which from the beginning\nhas been built on the doctrine of personal immortality, has of course\nco-operated with its primary attractiveness in stamping it deeply on\nthe nature of men of our times. Life seems unbearable to many people\nunless it is assumed to be true. It is a prominent feature of all our\nnew religious growths. The Psychical Research Society seeks to confirm\nit by the evidence of ghost-stories. Many generations will have to pass\naway before mankind in general can renounce it, and till then, if only\nto supply it with an apparent basis, dogmatic religion must survive.\n\nIf the decline of Christianity continues with the rapidity of the\nlast half-century, a perilous crisis lies before the population of\nthe civilized world. Old religious ideas seeking a new basis will\nproduce new upheavals of religious imagination, and a period of intense\nsuperstition will ensue. Whatever might result from such a period, in\nitself it could be nothing but evil, a time of darkness and disquiet,\nof relaxed morality and charlatan prophets. Fortunately the fall of\nChristianity is not likely to be so rapid in the future; the great mass\nof mankind may cling to it long after it has parted from the world\u2019s\nintellectual life.\n\nThe religion of the future certainly will not be the curious system of\nComte. Positivism is only a philosophy masquerading in the garb of a\nreligion. Its fundamental principle is hopelessly at variance with the\ncraving for supernatural dogma which has possession of ordinary men.\nEqually, of course, a refined Christianity, with the juice of dogma\nsqueezed out, cannot become the religion of mankind. Religious ideas\nneed a dogmatic system, and in some form or other their need is sure to\nbe supplied.\n\nIndeed, it is probable that dogmatic religion will always be a\nphenomenon of human life. Man framed it in the beginning, and man is\nlikely to preserve it to the end. The conditions of existence secure\nit an assured tenure. The actual business of living must occupy all\nthe thoughts of the vast majority of men. In regard to the matters\nwhich lie beyond this they can only walk by faith, and the illusions of\nlife furnish ample material for faith to work on. A few may have the\nleisure to examine phenomena themselves, and thus may attain freedom\nfrom the influence of illusion, and may see things as they really are.\nBut they can never be more than an infinitesimal minority. And so, from\ngeneration to generation, with the shadows of their hopes and fears,\ntheir loves and hates, men will people the impenetrable darkness which\ncloses around the mystery of life.\n\n\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n\n[1] Against Apion, ii. 40.\n\n[2] See Kuenen\u2019s \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d i. 226 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[3] See Gen. xxxi. 53; Josh. xxiv. 15; Judges xi. 24; cf. Exod. xv. 11.\n\n[4] Ezekiel (xx. 8) says they were corrupted by the Egyptian religion,\nbut this is very improbable.\n\n[5] \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d i. 281 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[6] See Curtius, \u201cHist. of Greece,\u201d bk. ii. ch. 4.\n\n[7] Acts vii. 22.\n\n[8] See an article by Professor Huxley, _Nineteenth Century_, April,\n1886, p. 498.\n\n[9] See, in particular, Lev. vi. 1\u20137.\n\n[10] Jer. vii. 22; Amos v. 25.\n\n[11] Isa. i. 11; lxvi. 1\u20134; Hos. vi. 6; Micah vi. 6\u20138.\n\n[12] Isa. xlv. 12.\n\n[13] Exod. xix. 5, 6; Lev. xxvi. For correlative covenant, see Gen.\nxxviii. 20, 21.\n\n[14] \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d ii. 267 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[15] Lev. v. 11, 12.\n\n[16] Ibid. xvi. 21, 22.\n\n[17] Heb. ix. 22.\n\n[18] 1 Sam. viii. 7.\n\n[19] Josh. xxiv. 15.\n\n[20] Judg. x. 6.\n\n[21] Jer. ii. 28.\n\n[22] See Kuenen, \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d i. 360 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[23] Isa. i. 11.\n\n[24] Isa. xli. 8.\n\n[25] See Exod. xix. 5, 6.\n\n[26] Isa. lix. 1, 2.\n\n[27] See Isa. xlviii. 18, 19.\n\n[28] For an endeavour to secure future obedience to the covenant,\nsee 2 Kings xi. 17. From this idea that all Israel\u2019s calamities were\ndue to the violation of a divine covenant, probably arose the Jewish\nexplanation of the \u201corigin of evil.\u201d Calamities in general falling on\nmankind they would naturally ascribe to the same cause, namely, the\ndisregard of the commands of God. Hence the story of the fall of man as\nwe have it in the opening chapters of Genesis.\n\n[29] Jer. xliv. 15\u201319.\n\n[30] Isa. xxx., xxxi.\n\n[31] 2 Kings xxiii. 29.\n\n[32] For the influence of the captivity on Judaism, see Ewald, \u201cHist.\nof Israel,\u201d v. 24, _seq._ (Eng. trans.), and Kuenen, \u201cReligion of\nIsrael,\u201d ii. 139 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[33] \u201cHistory of Israel,\u201d ii. 35 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[34] Jer. xiv. 19\u201322.\n\n[35] See Ezekiel xxxvii. 24, 25; and cf. Micah v. 2\u20139. Bethlehem, as\nDavid\u2019s birthplace, was to be the birthplace of David the Messiah.\n\n[36] _Ibid._\n\n[37] Jer. xxxi. 31\u201334.\n\n[38] Amos iii. 2.\n\n[39] Isa. ii. 2\u20134; xi. 9, 10.\n\n[40] Ibid. lx. 3, 10, 11, 14, 15, 18.\n\n[41] Ibid. lxi. 5, 6.\n\n[42] Jer. xvi. 19.\n\n[43] Micah vi. 6\u20138.\n\n[44] Isa. lxvi. 1\u20134.\n\n[45] See Kuenen, \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d iii. 276 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[46] Isa. lxvi. 18\u201323.\n\n[47] Isa. lii. 14.\n\n[48] See Tobit iii. 8. How different from Isa. xlv. 6, 7.\n\n[49] 2 Macc. xii. 43\u201345.\n\n[50] See 1 Macc. xiv. 41.\n\n[51] See Ewald, \u201cHist. of Israel,\u201d v. 360, _seq._ (Eng. trans.), and\nKuenen, \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d iii. 277 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[52] See Milman, \u201cHist. of Christianity,\u201d i. 82.\n\n[53] \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d iii. 273 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[54] Dan. vii. 13, 14.\n\n[55] See Strauss, \u201cNew Life of Jesus,\u201d sects. 38, 39.\n\n[56] See Strauss, \u201cNew Life of Jesus,\u201d sect. 36.\n\n[57] See Matt. xxvi. 26\u201328, and Mark xiv. 22\u201324; Luke xxii. 19, 20, and\n1 Cor. xi. 23\u201325; cf. 1 Cor. x. 16.\n\n[58] See Exod. xii. 3\u201330.\n\n[59] Isa. liii. 10, 12.\n\n[60] 1 Cor. x. 16.\n\n[61] Rom. iii. 24, 25; v. 6\u201311; viii. 3; 1 Thess. iv. 16, 17; cf. 1\nPet. ii. 24.\n\n[62] 2 Cor. v. 19.\n\n[63] Isa. lxv. 17; cf. Rev. xxi. 1.\n\n[64] See Milman, \u201cHistory of Christianity,\u201d i. 378.\n\n[65] 1 Thess. v. 1\u201310.\n\n[66] Rom. xi. 25\u201327.\n\n[67] 1 Cor. xv.\n\n[68] Rev. xx., xxi.; cf. 2 Esdras vii. 28\u201333.\n\n[69] Rom. v., vi.\n\n[70] Acts xvii. 18.\n\n[71] 1 Cor. xv. 1\u201320.\n\n[72] See Strauss, \u201cNew Life of Jesus,\u201d section 49.\n\n[73] See Strauss, \u201cNew Life of Jesus,\u201d section 98; 1 Cor. xv. 5\u20138.\n\n[74] Rom. i. 3, 4.\n\n[75] 1 Cor. xv. 45\u201349; Rom. viii. 16, 17.\n\n[76] Rom. viii. 3; Gal. iv. 4, 5.\n\n[77] See Baur, \u201cChurch History,\u201d part iv., and \u201cLife of Paul,\u201d part\niii., chaps. vi. and viii.\n\n[78] 1 Cor. viii. 6.\n\n[79] Of course no importance can be attached to the \u201cGod blessed for\never\u201d of Rom. ix. 5, which either, as is generally thought, does\nnot refer to Christ at all, or, if it does, is obviously a late\ninterpolation suggested to the copyist by Rom. 1. 25.\n\n[80] See Renan, \u201cLes Ap\u00f4tres,\u201d chap. xvi.\n\n[81] \u201cHistory of Rationalism,\u201d ii. 203.\n\n[82] See Kuenen, \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d iii. 271 ($1\u2013$2.).\n\n[83] Against Apion, ii. 17.\n\n[84] \u201cHistory of Christianity,\u201d i. 94, note.\n\n[85] Matt. 1. 23.\n\n[86] See Strauss, \u201cNew Life of Jesus,\u201d section 98.\n\n[87] 1 Cor. xv. 4.\n\n[88] Hos. vi. 2. It may also have been founded on the accepted date of\nthe earliest vision.\n\n[89] Prov. viii. 22\u201330.\n\n[90] Ps. xxxiii. 6.\n\n[91] There can be little doubt that \u03b4 \u03bb\u1f41\u03b3\u03bf\u03c2\u03b4 in Philo means the word\nrather than the reason of God. He evidently used the term as a Jew,\nwith the language of Genesis in his mind. This language itself is\nan interesting product of eastern anthropomorphism, which naturally\nconceived God as working like a despot by simply issuing his commands.\n\n[92] Quis ... Heres, 42.\n\n[93] \u201cReligion of Israel,\u201d iii. 202 (Eng. trans.).\n\n[94] The gospel being written in order to satisfy a need of the Church,\nit is obvious that this need would ensure its immediate acceptance.\nThe Church was not likely to question the genuineness of a document\nwhich contained exactly what it required. So we may safely assign the\ncomposition of the gospel a date immediately preceding that of the\nfirst trustworthy evidence of its existence.\n\n[95] John i. 1, 3.\n\n[96] Ibid. i. 14.\n\n[97] 1 Pet. ii. 22\u201324.\n\n[98] Rom. viii. 26, 27.\n\n[99] Exod. xxiii. 20\u201323.\n\n[100] Isa. lxiii. 9, 10; Haggai ii. 5; cf. Neh. ix. 20. It was probably\nwith reference to the storm as the most destructive phenomenon\nof nature that the name \u201cbreath of God\u201d was given to the angel\ncommissioned by him to destroy the enemies of his people.\n\n[101] Milman, \u201cHistory of Christianity,\u201d i. 352.\n\n[102] \u201cEssence of Christianity,\u201d chap. xv.\n\n[103] See Eusebius, \u201cEcclesiastical History,\u201d bk. vi. chap. 37.\n\n[104] 1 Cor. xi. 29.\n\n[105] The origin of this doctrine must not be confused with the\nscholastic defence of it.\n\n[106] \u201cEssence of Christianity,\u201d chap. vi.\n\n[107] Before the beginning of this period, Christianity was inspired\nchiefly by the hope of gaining heaven; since the beginning of it,\nChristianity has been inspired chiefly by the hope of escaping hell.\n\n[108] \u201cThe Origin and Development of Religious Belief,\u201d ii. 307 _seq._\n\n[109] \u201cThe Origin and Development of Religious Belief,\u201d vol. ii. ch. 7.\n\n[110] See Liddon\u2019s \u201cBampton Lectures,\u201d p. 259 _seq._, 7th edit.\n\n\nTHE END.\n\n\nPRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.","title":"The Origin and Development of Christian Dogma: An essay in the science of history","tradition":"scripture-revelation","translated_text":null,"word_count":37704}