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JESUS  THE  MESSIAH 

Vol.  I. 


THE 


LIFE  AND  TIMES 


OF 


JESUS  THE  MESSIAH 


BY 


ALFRED    EDERSHEIM,   M. A.Oxon,  D.D.,  Ph.D. 

GRINFIELD   LECTURER   ON    THE  SEPTUAGINT,  OXFORD.  AND 
LATE   WARBURTONIAN   LECTURER  AT  LINCOLN'S  INN 

Author  of  ''  Prophecy  and  History  in   Relation   to  the  Messiah." 


BXeTCoftev   yap  d'pri    Si    tadnzfjov    tv    aiviyjtiari 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES 
Volume  L 


NBM'^  AMERICAN  EDITION 


NEW  YORK 

E.  R.  HERRICK  &  COMPANY 

70   Fifth  Avknue 


THF.  OUARANTEE    PRESS 

I   &  3   EAST  THIRTEENTH    STREET 

NEW   VOKK 


TO 
THE    CHANCELLOR,    MASTERS,    AND    SCHOLARS 

OF    THE 

UNIVERSITY    OE    OXFORD 

THESE   VOLUMES 

ARE 

RESPECTFULLY   DEDICATED 


PREFACE 

TO   THE 

SECOND   AND    THIRD    EDITIONS. 


In  issuing  a  new  edition  of  this  book  I  wish,  in  the  first  place,  again 
to  record,  as  tlie  expression  of  permanent  convictions  and  feelings, 
some  remarks  with  which  I  had  prefaced  the  Second  Edition, 
althougli  happily  they  are  not  at  present  so  urgently  called  for. 

With  the  feelings  of  sincere  thankfulness  for  the  kindness  with 
which  this  book  was  received  l)y  all  branches  of  the  Church,  only 
one  element  of  pain  mingled.  Although  I  am  well  convinced  that 
a  careful  or  impartial  reader  could  not  arrive  at  any  such  conclu- 
sion, yet  it  was  suggested  that  a  perverse  ingenuity  might  abuse 
certain  statements  and  quotations  for  what  in  modern  parlance  are 
termed  '  Anti-Semitic '  purposes.  That  any  such  thoughts  could 
possibly  attach  to  a  book  concerning  Him,  A^'ho  was  Himself  a  Jew; 
Who  in  the  love  of  His  compassion  wept  tears  of  bitter  anguish  o\  er 
the  Jerusalem  that  was  about  to  crucify  Him,  and  Whose  first  utter- 
ance and  prayer  when  nailed  to  the  Cross  was:  '  Father,  forgive  them, 
for  they  know  not  what  they  do ' — would  seem  terribly  incongruous 
and  painful.  Nor  can  it  surely  be  necessary  to  point  out  that  tlie 
love  of  Christ,  or  the  understanding  of  His  Work  and  Mission,  must 
call  forth  feelings  far  different  from  those  to  which  reference  has  been 
made.  To  me,  indeed,  it  is  diflicult  to  associate  the  so-called  Anti- 
Semitic  movement  witli  any  but  the  lowest  causes:  envy,  jealousy, 
and  cupidity  on  the  one  liand;  or,  on  the  other,  ignorance,  prejudice, 
bigotry,  and  hatred  ol'  I'ace.  But  as  these  are  times  when  it  is  neces- 
sary to  speak  unmistakably,  I  avail  myself  of  the  present  opportunity 
to  point  out  the  reasons  why  any  Talmudic  ipiotations,  even  it'  fair, 
can  have  no  application  for  'Anti-Semitic'  ]Mir]>oses. 


viii  PREFACE    TO    THE    SECOXI)   AND    THIRD    EDITIONS. 

First:  It  i.s  a  mistake  to  regard  everything  in  Taliniulie  writiugs 
al)Out  'the  Gentiles"  as  presently  applying  to  Christians.  Those 
spoken  of'  are  characterised  as  'the  worshippers  of  idols,"  'of  stars 
and  i)lanets.' and  by  similar  designations.  That  'the  heathens'  of 
those  days  and  lands  should  have  been  suspected  of  almost  any 
abomination,  deemed  capable  of  any  treachery  or  cruelty  towards 
Israel — no  student  of  history  can  deem  strange,  especially  when  the 
experience  of  so  many  terrible  wrongs  (would  they  had  ])een  con- 
tined  to  the  heathen  and  to  those  times!)  would  naturally  lead  to 
morbidly  excited  ^suspicions  and  apprehensions. 

Secondly:  We  must  remember  the  times,  the  education,  and  the 
general  standpoint  of  that  period  as  compared  with  our  own.  No 
one  would  measure  the  belief  of  Christians  by  certain  statements  in 
the  Fathers,  nor  judge  tlie  moral  principles  of  Roman  Catholics  by 
prurient  quotations  from  the  Casuists;  nor  yet  estimate  the  Lutherans 
by  the  utterances  and  deeds  of  the  early  successors  of  Luther,  nor 
Calvinists  by  the  burning  of  Servetus.  In  all  such  cases  the  general 
standpoint  of  the  times  has  to  be  first  taken  into  account.  And  no 
educated  Jew  would  share  the  follies  and  superstitions,  nor  yet  sym- 
pathise with  the  suspicions  or  feelings  towards  even  the  most  hostile 
and  dei^raved  heathens,  that  may  be  quoted  from  tlie  Talmud. 

Thirdly:  Absolutely  the  contrary  of  all  this  has  been  again  and 
again  set  forth  by  modern  Jewish  writers.  Even  their  attenqjts  t(j 
explain  away  certain  quotations  from  the  Talmud — unsuccessful 
thougli.  in  my  view,  some  of  them  are — afibrd  evidence  of  their 
present  repudiation  of  all  such  sentiments.  I  would  here  specially 
refer  to  such  Avork  as  Dr.  Grunehauni's  'Ethics  of  Judaism'  (' Sitten- 
lehre  d.  Judenthums') — a  ])ook  deeply  interesting  also  as  setting 
forth  the  modern  Jewish  view  of  Christ  and  His  Teaching,  and 
accordant  (though  on  ditferent  grounds)  with  some  of  the  conclusions 
expressed  in  this  book,  as  regards  certain  incidents  in  the  History 
of  Christ.  The  principles  expressed  by  Di-.  (rrlinebaion,  and  other 
writers,  are  such  as  for  ever  to  give  the  lie  to  Anti-Semitic  charges. 
And  although  he  and  others,  with  quite  proper  loyalty,  labour  to 
explain  certain  Talnnidic  citations,  yet  it  ultimately  c-omes  to  the 
admission  that  Talniudic  sayings  are  not  the  criterion  and  rule  of 
])res('nt  duty,  even  as  regards  the  heathen — still  less  Christians,  to 
whom  they  do  not  apply. 

AVhat  has  just  been  stated,  while  it  fully  disposes  of  all  'Anti- 
Semitism,'  only  the  more  clearly  sets  forth  the  argument  whicli  forms 
the  main  ]))-opositiou  of  this  book.     Here  also  we  have  the   highest 


PREFACE   TO   THE   SECOND    AND   THIRD   EDITIONS.  IX 

exaiiii)le.  None  loNcd  Israel  so  intensely,  even  unto  death,  as  Jesus  of 
Nazareth;  none  made  such  withering'  denunciations  as  He  of  Jewish 
Traditionalism,  in  all  its  l)ranches,  and  of  its  llepresentatives.  It  is 
with  Traditionalism,  not  the  Jews,  that  our  controversy  lies.  And 
here  we  cannot  speak  too  i)lainly  nor  decidedly.  It  mig-ht,  indeed,  l)e 
argued,  apart  from  any  proposed  ditlcrent  api)lications,  that  on  one  or 
another  point  opinions  of  a  ditferent  kind  may  also  be  adduced  from 
other  Rabbis.  Nor  is  it  intended  to  convey  unanimity  of  opinion  on 
every  subject.  For,  indeed,  such  scarcely  existed  on  any  one  point — 
not  on  matters  of  fact,  nor  even  often  on  Halakhic  questions.  And 
this  also  is  characteristic  of  Rabbinism.  Rut  it  must  be  remem- 
bered that  Ave  are  here  dealing  with  tlie  very  text-book  of  that 
sacred  and  Divine  Traditionalism,  the  l)asis  and  substance  of  Rab- 
])inism,  for  which  such  unlimited  authority  and  al)solute  su])mission  are 
claimed;  and  hence,  that  any  statement  admitted  into  its  pages,  even 
though  a  different  view  were  also  to  be  adduced,  possesses  an  authori- 
tative and  a  representative  character.  And  this  further  appears  from 
the  fact  that  the  same  statements  are  often  i-epeated  in  other  docu- 
ments, besides  that  in  which  they  were  originally  made,  and  that  they 
are  also  supported  by  other  statements,  kindred  and  parallel  in  spirit. 
In  truth,  it  has  throughout  been  my  aim  to  present,  not  one  nor 
another  isolated  statement  or  aspect  of  Rabbinism,  but  its  general 
teaching  and  tendency.  In  so  doing  I  have,  however,  purposely  left 
aside  certain  passages  which,  while  they  might  have  most  fully  brought 
out  the  sad  and  strange  extravagances  to  which  Rabbinism  could  go, 
would  have  involved  the  unnecessary  quotation  of  what  is  not  only 
very  painful  in  itself,  but  might  have  furnished  an  occasion  to 
enemies  of  Israel.  Alike  the  one  and  the  other  it  was  my  most 
earnest  desire  to  avoid.  And  by  the  side  of  these  extravagances 
there  is  so  much  in  Jewish  writings  and  life — the  outcome  of  Old 
Testament  training — that  is  noblest  and  most  touching,  especially  as 
regards  the  social  virtues,  such  as  purity,  kindness,  and  charity,  and 
the  acknowledgment  of  God  in  sutferings,  as  well  as  their  patient 
endurance.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  even  the 
vehement  assertions  of  partisans  on  the  other  side,  supported  liy 
isolated  sayings,  sometimes  torn  from  their  context,  or  by  such  co- 
incidences as  are  historically  to  be  expected,  will  persuade  those  who 
keep  in  view  either  the  words  of  Christ  or  His  history  and  that  of 
the  Apostles,  that  the  relation  between  Christianity  in  its  origin,  as 
the  fullilment  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  Traditionalism,  as  the  exter- 
nalised development  of  its  letter,  is  other  than  that  of  which  these 


X  PREFACE  TO   THE    SECOND   AND   THIRD   EDITIONS. 

\(»luiii(>s  furnish  hoth  the  explanation  and  the  evidence.  In  point  of 
fact,  the  attentive  student  of  history  Avill  observe  that  a  simiUir  protest 
against  the  bare  letter  underlies  Alexandrianism  and  Philo — although 
there  from  the  side  of  reason  and  apologetically,  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment from  the  aspect  of  spiritual  life  and  for  its  full  presentation. 

Tlius  much — somewhat  reluctantly  written,  because  approaching 
controversy — seemed  necessary  by  way  of  explanation.  The  brief 
interval  between  the  First  and  Second  Editions  rendered  only  a 
superficial  revision  possible,  as  then  indicated.  For  the  present 
edition  the  whole  work  has  once  more  been  revised,  chiefly  with  the 
view  of  removing  from  the  numerous  marginal  Talmudic  references 
such  misprints  as  were  observed.  In  the  text  and  notes,  also,  a  few 
errata  have  been  corrected,  or  else  the  meaning  rendered  more  clear. 
In  one  or  two  places  fresh  notes  have  been  made;  some  references 
have  been  struck  out,  and  others  added.  These  notes  will  furnish  evi- 
dence that  the  literature  of  the  subject,  since  the  first  appearance  of 
these  volumes,  has  not  been  neglected,  although  it  seemed  unnecessary 
to  swell  the  '  List  of  Authorities  '  by  the  names  of  all  the  books  since 
published  or  perused.  Life  is  too  busy  and  too  short  to  be  always 
going  back  on  one's  traces.  Nor,  indeed,  would  this  be  profitable. 
The  further  results  of  reading  and  study  will  best  be  embodied  in 
further  labours,  please  God,  in  continuation  of  those  now  completed. 
Opportunity  may  then  also  occur  for  the  discussion  of  some  questions 
which  had  certainly  not  been  overlooked,  although  this  seemed  not 
the  proper  place  for  them:  such  as  that  of  the  composition  of  the 
Apostolic  writings. 

And  so,  with  great  thankfulness  for  what  service  this  book  has 
))een  already  allowed  to  perform,  I  would  now  send  it  forth  on  its 
new  journey,  with  this  as  my  most  earnest  hope  and  desire:  that,  in 
however  humble  a  manner,  it  may  be  helpful  for  the  fuller  and  clearer 
setting  forth  of  the  Life  of  Him  Who  is  the  Life  of  all  our  life. 

A.  E. 

Oxford:  March  1886. 


PREFACE 

TO 

THE     FIKST    EDITION, 


In  presenting  tliese  volumes  to  the  reader,  I  must  offer  an  explana- 
tion,— though  I  would  fain  hope  that  such  may  not  be  absolutely 
necessary.  The  title  of  this  book  must  not  be  understood  as  implying 
any  pretence  on  my  part  to  write  a  '  Life  of  Christ '  in  the  strict  sense. 
To  take  the  lowest  view,  the  materials  for  it  do  not  exist.  Evidently 
the  Evangelists  did  not  intend  to  give  a  full  record  of  even  the 
outward  events  in  that  History;  far  less  could  they  have  thought  of 
compassing  the  sphere  or  sounding  the  depths  of  the  Life  of  Him, 
Whom  they  present  to  us  as  the  God-Man  and  the  Eternal  Son  of 
the  Eternal  Father.  Rather  must  the  Gospels  l^e  regarded  as  four 
different  aspects  in  which  the  Evangelists  viewed  the  historical  Jesus 
of  Nazareth  as  the  fulfilment  of  the  Divine  promise  of  old,  the  Mes- 
siah of  Israel  and  the  Saviour  of  man,  and  presented  Him  to  the 
Jewish  and  Gentile  world  for  their  acknowledgment  as  the  Sent  of 
God,  Who  revealed  the  Father,  and  Avas  Himself  the  Way  to  Him, 
the  Truth,  and  the  Life.  And  this  view  of  the  Gospel-narratives 
underlies  the  figurative  representation  of  the  Evangelist  in  Christian 
Symbolism.^ 

In  thus  guarding  my  meaning  in  the  choice  of  the  title.  I  have 
already  indicated  my  own  standpoint  in  this  l^ook.  But  in  an- 
other respect  I  wish  to  disclaim  having  taken  any  predetermined 
dogmatic  standpoint  at  the  outset  of  my  investigations.       I  wished 

^  Comp.  tbe  historical  account  of  tliese  sj'iiibols  in  Zahn.  Forsch.  z.  Gescb.  il. 
Neu-Test.  Kanons,  ii.  pp.  257-275. 


xii  PREFACE   TO   THE   FUIST    EUITIOxX. 

to  write,  not  lur  a  (U'tiiiile  pur])()se,  be  it  even  that  of  the  defence 
of  the  faith — but  i-athcr  to  h't  that  purpose  grow  out  of  the  book, 
us  woukl  be  pointed  out  by  the  course  of  independent  study,  in  which 
ar<>:uinents  on  both  sides  should  l)e  impartially  weighed  and  facts 
ascertained.  In  this  manner  I  hoped  best  to  attain  what  must  be  the 
first  object  in  all  research,  l)ut  especially  in  such  as  the  present:  to 
ascertain,  as  far  as  we  can,  the  truth,  irrespective  of  consequences. 
And  thus  also  I  hoped  to  help  others,  by  going,  as  it  were,  before 
them,  in  the  path  which  their  enquiries  must  take,  and  removing 
the  difficulties  and  entanglements  which  beset  it.  So  might  I 
honestly,  confidently,  and,  in  such  a  matter,  earnestly,  ask  them  to 
follow  me,  i)ointing  to  the  height  to  which  such  enquiries  must  lead 
uj).  I  know,  indeed,  that  there  is  something  beyond  and  apart  from 
this;  even  the  restful  sense  on  that  height,  and  the  happy  outlook 
from  it.  But  this  is  not  within  the  province  of  one  man  to  give 
to  another,  nor  yet  does  it  come  in  the  way  of  study,  however 
earnest  and  careful;  it  depends  upon,  and  implies  the  existence  of 
a  subjective  state  which  comes  only  by  the  direction  given  to  our 
enquiries  by  the  true  odj/yog  (St.  John  xvi.  13). 

This  statement  of  the  general  object  in  view  will  explain  the 
course  pursued  in  these  enquiries.  First  and  foremost,  this  book  was 
to  be  a  study  of  the  Life  of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  retaining  the 
general  designation,  as  best  conveying  to  others  the  subject  to  be 
treated. 

But,  secondly,  since  Jesus  of  Nazareth  was  a  Jew,  spoke  to,  and 
moved  among  Jews,  in  Palestine,  and  at  a  definite  period  of  its 
history,  it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  view  that  Life  and  Teaching 
in  all  its  surroundings  of  place,  society,  popular  life,  and  intellectual 
or  religious  development.  This  would  form  not  only  the  frame  in 
which  to  set  the  picture  of  the  Christ,  but  the  very  background  of 
tlie  picture  itself.  It  is,  indeed,  most  true  that  Christ  spoke  not  only 
to  the  Jews,  to  Palestine,  and  to  that  time,  but — of  which  history 
has  given  the  evidence — to  all  men  and  to  all  times.  Still  He  spoke 
first  and  directly  to  the  Jews,  and  Tlis  words  must  have  been  in- 
telligible to  them.  His  teaching  have  reached  upwards  from  their 
intellectual  and  religious  stand])oint,  even  although  it  infinitely 
extended  the  horizon  so  as,  in  its  full  application,  to  make  it  wide  as- 
the  bounds  of  earth  and  time.  Nay,  to  explain  the  bearing  of  the 
religious  leaders  of  Israel,  from  the  first,  towards  Jesus,  it  seemed 
also  necessary  to  trace  the  historical  development  of  thought  and 
religious  belief,  till  it  issued  in  that  svstem  of  Traditionalism,  which. 


PREFACE   TO   THE   FIRST    EDITION.  xui 

by  an  internal  necessity,  was  irreconcilably  antagonistic  to  the  Christ 
of  the  Gospels. 

On  other  grounds  also,  sueh  a  full  portraiture  of  Jewish  life, 
society,  and  thinking  seemed  requisite.  It  furnishes  alike  a  vin- 
dication and  an  illustration  of  the  Gospel-narratives.  A  vindication 
— because  in  measure  as  we  transport  ourselves  into  that  time,  we 
feel  that  the  Gospels  present  to  us  a  real,  historical  scene;  that  the 
men  and  the  circumstances  to  which  we  are  introduced  are  real — 
not  a  fancy  i)icture,  l)ut  just  such  as  we  know  and  now  recognize 
them,  and  would  expect  them  to  have  spoken,  or  to  have  been. 
Again,  we  shall  thus  vividly  realise  another  and  most  important 
aspect  of  the  w(u-ds  of  Christ.  We  shall  perceive  that  their  form  is 
wholly  of  the  times,  their  cast  Jewish — while  by  the  side  of  this 
similarity  of  form  there  is  not  only  essential  ditierence  but  absolute 
contrariety  of  substance  and  spirit.  Jesus  spoke  as  truly  a  Jew  to 
the  Jews,  but  He  spoke  not  as  they — no,  not  as  their  highest  and 
best  Teachers  would  have  spoken.  And  this  contrariety  of  spirit 
with  manifest  similarity  of  form  is,  to  my  mind,  one  of  the  strongest 
evidences  of  the  claims  of  Christ,  since  it  raises  the  all-important 
question,  whence  the  Teacher  of  Nazareth — or,  shall  we  say,  the 
lunnble  Child  of  the  Carpenter-home  in  a  far-off  little  place  of  Galilee 
— had  drawn  His  inspiration?  And  clearly  to  set  this  forth  has  been 
tlie  first  ol)ject  of  the  detailed  Rabbinic  quotations  in  this  book. 

But  their  further  object,  besides  this  vindication,  has  been  the 
illustration  of  the  Gospel-narratives.  Even  the  general  reader  must 
be  aware  that  some  knowledge  of  Jewish  life  and  society  at  the  time 
is  requisite  for  the  understanding  of  the  Gospel-history.  Those  who 
have  consulted  the  works  of  Lighffoot,  Schottgen,  Meuschen,  Wetstein 
and  WfinscJie,  or  even  the  extracts  from  them  presented  in  Com- 
ujcntaries,  know  that  the  help  derived  from  their  Jewish  references 
is  veiT  great.  And  yet,  despite  the  immense  learning  and  industry 
of  these  writers,  there  are  serious  drawbacks  to  their  use.  Some- 
times the  references  are  critically  not  quite  accui'ate;  sometimes 
they  ai-e  derived  from  works  that  should  not  have  been  adduced  in 
evidence:  occasionally,  eithei'  the  i-endering,  or  the  application  of 
what  is  separated  from  its  context,  is  not  reliable.  A  still  more 
s<'rious  objection  is,  that  these  ({notations  are  not  unfrequently  one- 
sided: but  chiefly  this — perhaps,  as  the  necessary  consequence  of  being 
merely  illustrative  notes  to  certain  verses  in  the  Gospels — that  they 
do  not  i)i-esent  a  full  and  connecte<l  picture.  And  yet  it  is  this 
which  so  often  gives  the  most  varied  and  welcome  illustration  of  the 


XIV  PREFACE    TO   THE    FIRST    EDITION. 

(iuspcl-iiari'atives.  \u  truth,  we  know  nut  only  the  leadinji'  per- 
sonages in  Cliurcli  and  State  in  Palestine  at  that  time,  their  views, 
teaching,  pursuits,  and  aims;  the  state  of  parties;  the  character  of 
poi)ular  opinion;  the  proverbs,  the  customs,  the  daily  life  of  the 
country — but  ^ve  can,  in  imagination,  enter  their  dwellings,  associate 
with  them  in  familiar  intercourse,  or  follow  them  to  the  Temple,  the 
Synagogue,  the  Academy,  or  to  the  market-place  and  the  worksho}). 
Wv  know  what  clothes  they  wore,  what  dishes  they  ate,  what  wines 
they  drank,  what  they  produced  and  what  they  imported:  nay,  the 
cost  of  every  article  of  their  dress  or  food,  the  price  of  houses  and 
of  living:  in  short,  every  detail  that  can  give  vividness  to  a  picture 
of  life. 

All  this  is  so  im[)ortant  for  the  understanding  of  the  Gospel- 
history  as,  I  hope,  to  justify  the  fulness  of  archteological  detail  in 
this  book.  And  yet  I  have  used  only  a  portion  of  the  materials  which 
I  had  collected  for  the  purpose.  And  here  I  must  frankly  own,  as 
another  reason  for  this  fulness  of  detail,  that  nmny  erroneous  and 
misleading  statements  on  this  subject,  and  these  even  on  elementary 
points,  have  of  late  been  made.  Supported  by  references  to  the 
labours  of  truly  learned  Gernum  writers,  they  have  been  sometimes 
set  forth  with  such  confidence  as  to  impose  the  laborious  and  un- 
welcome duty  of  carefully  examining  and  testing  them.  But  to 
tills  oidy  the  briefest  possible  reference  has  I)een  made,  and  chiefly 
in  the  l)eginning  of  these  volumes. 

Another  explanation  seems  more  necessary  in  this  connection.  In 
describing  the  Traditionalism  of  the  time  of  Christ,  1  must  have  said 
what,  I  fear,  may,  most  unwillingly  on  nn'  part,  wound  the  feelings  of 
some  who  still  cling,  if  not  to  the  faith  of^  yet  to  what  now  rei)resents 
the  ancient  Synagogue.  But  let  me  appeal  to  their  fairness.  I 
must  needs  state  what  I  believe  to  be  the  facts;  and  I  could  neither 
keei)  them  back  nor  soften  them,  since  it  was  of  the  very  essence  of 
my  argument  to  present  Christ  as  both  in  contact  and  in  contrast  Avith 
Jewish  Traditionalism.  No  educated  Western  Jew  would,  in  these 
•daA's,  confess  himself  as  occupying  the  exact  standpoint  of  Rabbinic 
Traditionalism.  Some  will  select  i)arts  of  the  system;  others  will 
allegorise,  exi)lain.  or  modify  it:  very  many  will,  in  heart — often 
also  openly — repudiate  the  whole.  And  here  it  is  surely  not  neces- 
sary for  me  to  rebut  or  disown  those  vile  falsehoods  about  the  Jcavs 
which  ignorance,  cupidity,  and  bigoted  hatred  have  of  late  again  so 
strangely  raised.  But  I  would  go  further,  and  assei't  that,  in  re- 
fci-ence  to  Jesus  of  Xazareth.  no  educated  Israelite  of  to-day  would 


PREFACE   TO   THE   FIRST    EDITION.  XV 

identify  himself  with  the  religious  leaders  of  the  people  eighteen 
centuries  ago.  Yet  is  not  this  diselainier  of  that  Traditionalism 
which  not  only  explains  the  rejection  of  Jesus,  l)ut  is  the  sole  logical 
raison  cVetre  of  the  Synagogue,  also  its  condemnation? 

I  know,  indeed,  that  from  this  negative  there  is  a  vast  step  in 
advance  to  the  positive  in  the  reception  of  the  Gospel,  and  that 
many  continue  in  the  Synagogue,  because  they  are  not  so  convinced 
of  tlie  other  as  truthfully  to  profess  it.  And  perhaps  the  means  we 
have  taken  to  present  it  have  not  always  been  the  wisest.  The  mere 
appeal  to  the  literal  fultilmeni,  of  certain  prophetic  jiassages  in  the 
Old  Testament  not  only  leads  chiefly  to  critical  discussions,  but  rests 
the  case  on  what  is,  after  all,  a  secondary  line  of  argumentation. 
In  the  New  Testament  prophecies  are  not  made  to  point  to  facts, 
but  facts  to  point  back  to  prophecies.  The  New  Testament  presents 
the  fultilment  ofallprophccy  rather  than  of  prophecies,  and  individual 
predictions  serve  as  fingerposts  to  great  outstanding  tacts,  which 
mark  where  the  roads  meet  and  part.  And  here,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
we  are  at  one  with  the  ancient  Synagogue.  In  proof,  I  would  call 
special  attention  to  Appendix  IX.,  which  gives  a  list  of  all  the  Old 
Testament  passages  Messianically  applied  in  Jewish  writings.  We, 
as  well  as  they,  appeal  to  all  Scripture,  to  all  prophecy,  as  that  of 
which  the  reality  is  in  the  Messiah.  But  we  also  appeal  to  the 
whole  tendency  and  new  direction  which  the  Gospel  presents  in 
opposition  to  that  of  Traditionalism;  to  the  new  revelation  of  the 
Father,  to  the  new  brotherhood  of  man,  and  to  the  satisfaction  of  the 
deei)est  wants  of  the  heart,  which  Christ  has  brought — in  short,  to 
the  Scriptural,  the  moral,  and  the  spiritual  elements;  and  wc  would 
ask  whether  all  this  could  have  been  only  the  outcome  of  a  Car- 
penter's Son  at  Nazareth  at  the  time,  and  amidst  the  siu'i-oundings 
which  we  so  well  know. 

In  seeking  to  reproduce  in  detail  the  life,  opinions,  and  teaching 
of  the  contemporaries  of  Christ,  we  have  also  in  great  measure 
addressed  ourselves  to  what  was  the  third  siieckd  object  in  view  in 
this  History.  This  was  to  clear  the  path  of  difficulties  —  in  other 
words,  to  meet  such  objections  as  might  be  raised  to  the  Gospel- 
narratives.  And  this,  as  regards  principle — not  details  and  minor 
questions,  which  will  cause  little  uneasiness  to  the  thoughtful  and 
calm  reader;  quite  irrespective  also  of  any  theory  of  insj^iration 
which  may  l)e  proposed,  antl  hence  of  any  harmonistic  or  kindred 
attempts  which  may  be  made.  Broadly  speaking,  the  attacks  on  the 
Gospel-narratives   may   be   grouped  under  tliese  three  particulars: 


XVI  PREFACE   TO   THE    FIRST   EDITION. 

they  may  l)o  represented  as  inteiiti(^nal  fraud  hj  the  writers,  and 
imposition  on  the  readers;  or,  secondly,  a  rationalistic  explanation 
may  V)e  sought  of  them,  showing  how  what  originally  had  been  quite 
simple  and  natural  was  misunderstood  by  ignorance,  or  perverted  by 
superstition;  or,  thirdly,  they  ma}^  be  represented  as  the  outcome  of 
ideas  and  expectations  at  the  time,  which  gathered  around  the 
beloved  Teacher  of  Nazareth,  and,  so  to  speak,  found  body  in  legends 
that  clustered  around  the  Person  and  Life  of  Him  Who  was  regarded 
as  the  Messiah.  .  .  .  And  this  is  supposed  to  account  for  the 
preaching  of  the  Apostles,  for  their  life- witness,  for  their  martyr- 
death,  for  the  Church,  for  the  course  which  history  has  taken,  as 
well  as  for  the  dearest  hopes  and  experiences  of  Christian  life! 

Of  the  three  modes  of  criticism  just  indicated,  importance  at- 
taches only  to  the  third,  which  has  been  liroadly  designated  as  the 
mythical  theory.  The  fraud-theory  seems — as  even  Strauss  admits 
— psychologically  so  incompatible  with  admitted  facts  as  regards  the 
early  Disciples  and  the  Church,  and  it  does  such  violence  to  the  first 
requirements  of  historical  enquiry,  as  to  make  it — at  least  to  me — 
dilRcult  to  understand  how  any  thoughtful  student  could  In'  swayed 
l)y  objections  which  too  often  are  merely  an  appeal  to  the  vulgar, 
intellectually  and  morally,  in  us.  For — to  take  the  historical  view 
of  the  question — even  if  every  concession  were  made  to  negative 
criticism,  sufficient  would  still  be  left  in  the  Christian  documents  to 
establish  a  consensus  of  the  earliest  belief  as  to  all  the  great  facts  of 
the  Gospel-History,  on  which  both  the  preaching  of  the  Apostles 
and  the  primitive  Church  have  been  historically  based.  And  with 
this  consensus  at  least,  and  its  practical  outcome,  historical  enquiry 
has  to  reckon.  And  here  I  may  take  leave  to  point  out  the  infinite 
importance,  as  regards  the  very  foundation  of  our  faith,  attaching  to 
the  historical  Church — truly  in  this  also  the  eKKXrjcria  Geov  ^(^vro?:, 
(TTvXog  Ktx\  iSpaiijDj-ia  [coluinna  et  fulcrum^  rr/g  aXt/delag;  fthe 
Church  of  the  Living  God,  the  pillar  and  stay  [support]  of  the  truth). 

As  regards  the  second  class  of  interpretation — the  rationalistic — 
it  is  altogether  so  superficial,  shadow}'  and  unreal  tliat  it  can  at 
most  be  only  regarded  as  a  passing  phase  of  light-niindcil  attempts 
to  set  aside  felt  difficulties. 

IJut  the  third  mode  of  explanation,  commonW,  tlioiigh  ]»('rhai)s 
not  always  ([uite  fairly,  designated  as  the  mythical.  dcsciNcs  and 
demands,  at  least  in  its  sober  presentation,  the  serious  lonsidcration 
of  the  historical  student.  Hai)])ily  it  is  also  tliat  which,  in  the  nature 
of  it,  is  most  capable  of  being  subjected   to  the  test  ot  liistoricai  ex- 


PREFACE   TO   THE   FIRST    EDITION.  XVii 

amination.  For,  as  previously  stated,  we  possess  ample  materials  for 
ascertaining  the  state  ol'  thought,  belief,  and  expectancy  in  the  time 
of  Christ,  and  of  His  Apostles.  And  to  this  aspect  of  olyections  to 
the  Gospels  the  main  line  of  argumentation  in  this  book  has  been 
addressed.  For,  if  the  historical  analysis  here  attempted  has  any 
logical  force,  it  leads  up  to  this  conclusion,  that  Jesus  Christ  was, 
alike  in  the  fundamental  direction  of  His  teaching  and  Avork,  and  in 
its  details,  antithetic  to  the  Synagogue  in  its  doctrine,  })ractice,  and 
expectancies. 

But  even  so,  one  difficulty — we  all  feel  it — remaineth.  It  is  that 
connected  with  miracles,  or  rather  with  the  miraculous,  since  the 
designation,  and  the  difficulty  to  which  it  points,  must  not  be  limited 
to  outward  and  tangible  phenomena.  But  herein,  I  venture  to  say, 
lies  also  its  solution,  at  least  so  far  as  such  is  possible — since  the 
difficulty  itself,  the  miraculous,  is  of  the  very  essence  of  our  thinking 
about  the  Divine,  and,  therefore  one  of  the  conditions  of  it:  at  least, 
in  all  religions  of  which  the  origin  is  not  from  within  us,  subjective, 
but  from  without  us,  objective,  or,  if  I  may  so  say,  in  all  that  claim 
to  be  universal  religions  (catholic  thinking).  But,  to  my  mind,  the 
evidential  value  of  miracles  (as  frequently  set  forth  in  these  volumes) 
lies  not  in  what,  without  intending  ofience,  I  may  call  their  barely 
super-naturalistic  aspect,  but  in  this,  that  they  are  the  manifestations 
of  the  miraculous,  in  the  widest  sense,  as  the  essential  element  in 
revealed  religion.  Miracles  are  of  chief  evidential  value,  not  in 
themselves,  but  as  instances  and  proof  of  the  direct  communication 
between  Heaven  and  earth.  And  such  direct  communication  is,  at 
least,  the  postulate  and  first  position  in  all  religions.  They  all  present 
to  the  worshipper  some  medium  of  personal  communication  from 
Heaven  to  earth — some  prophet  or  other  channel  of  the  Divine — and 
some  medium  for  our  communication  with  Heaven.  And  this  is  the 
fundamental  principle  of  the  miraculous  as  the  essential  postulate 
in  all  religion  that  purposes  again  to  bind  num  to  God.  It  j)roceeds 
on  the  twofold  principle  that  communication  must  tirst  come  to  man 
fro)ii  Heaven,  and  tlien  that  it  does  so  come.  Rather,  perhaps,  let 
us  say,  that  all  religion  turns  on  these  two  great  factors  of  our  inner 
experience:  man's  felt  need  and  (as  implied  in  it,  if  we  are  God's 
creatures)  his  felt  expectancy.  And  in  the  Christian  Church  this  is 
not  merely  matter  of  the  past — it  has  attained  its  fullest  reality,  and 
is  a  constant  present  in  the  indwelling  of  the  Paraclete. 

Yet  another  part  of  the  task  in  writing  this  book  remains  to  be 
mentioned.     In  the  nature  of  it,  such  a  ])ook  must  necessarily  have 


XVlll  PREFACE    TO   THE   FIRST   EDITION. 

Ijucii  more  or  Ie.-;ri  of  a  Coininentary  on  the  Gof^pels.  But  I  have 
souglit  to  follow  the  text  of  the  Gospels  throughout,  and  separately 
to  eonsider  every  passage  in  them,  so  that,  1  hope,  I  may  truthfully 
tlesignate  it  also  a  Commentary  on  the  Four  Gospels — though  an 
informal  one.  And  here  I  nmy  be  allowed  to  state  that  throughout 
I  have  had  the  general  reader  in  view,  reserving  for  the  foot-notes 
and  Appendices  wiiat  may  be  of  special  interest  to  students.  While 
thankfully  availing  myself  of  all  critical  help  within  my  reach — 
and  here  I  may  perhaps  take  the  liberty  of  specially  singling  out 
I'rofessor  Westcott's  Commentary  on  St.  John — I  have  thought  it 
right  to  make  the  sacred  text  the  subject  of  fresh  and  independent 
study.  The  conclusions  at  which  I  arrived  I  would  present  with 
the  more  deference,  that,  from  my  isolated  position,  I  had  not,  in 
writing  these  volumes,  the  inestimable  advantage  of  personal  contact, 
on  these  subjects,  with  other  students  of  the  sacred  text. 

It  only  remains  to  add  a  few  sentences  in  regard  to  other  matters 
— jierhaps  of  more  interest  to  myself  than  to  the  reader.  For  many 
years  I  had  wished  and  planned  writing  such  a  book,  and  all  my 
pi'cvious  studies  were  really  in  preparation  for  this.  But  the  task 
was  actually  undertaken  at  the  request  of  the  Publishers,  of  whose 
kindness  and  patience  I  must  here  make  public  acknowledgment. 
For,  the  original  term  fixed  for  writing  it  was  two  or  three  years. 
It  has  taken  me  seven  years  of  continual  and  earnest  labour — and, 
even  so,  I  feel  as  if  I  would  fain,  and  ought  to,  spend  other  seven 
years  upon  what  could,  at  most,  be  touching  the  fringe  of  this  great 
subject.  What  these  seven  years  have  been  to  me  I  could  not  at- 
tempt to  tell.  In  a  remote  country  parish,  entirely  isolated  from  all 
social  intercourse,  and  amidst  not  a  few  trials,  parochial  duty  has 
been  diversified  and  relieved  by  many  hours  of  daily  work  and  of 
study — delightful  in  and  for  itself.  If  any  point  seemed  not  clear 
to  my  own  mind,  or  required  protracted  investigation,  I  could  give 
days  of  undisturbed  work  to  what  to  others  might  perhaps  seem 
secondary,  but  was  all-important  to  me.  And  so  these  seven  years 
l)assed — with  no  other  companion  in  study  than  my  daughter,  to 
whom  I  am  indebted,  not  only  for  the  Index  Berum,  but  for  much 
else,  especially  for  a  renewed  revision,  in  the  proof-sheets,  of  the 
references  made  throughout  these  volumes.  What  labour  and  pa- 
tience this  required  every  reader  will  perceive — although  even  so  I 
cannot  hope  that  no  misprint  or  slip  of  the  pen  has  escaped  our 
detection. 

And  now  I  part  from  this  book  with  thankfulness  to  Almighty 


PREFxVCE   TO   THE    FIRST    EDITION.  -MX 

<j(()(l  for  sparing-  iiie  to  complete  it,  witli  lingering  regret  that  the 
task  is  ended,  but  also  with  unfeigned  diffidence.  I  have,  indeed, 
sought  to  give  my  best  and  most  earnest  labour  to  it,  and  to  v.rite 
what  I  believed  to  be  true,  irrespective  of  party  or  received  opinions. 
This,  in  such  a  book,  was  only  sacred  duty.  But  where  study 
necessarily  extended  to  so  many,  and  sometimes  new,  departments, 
I  cannot  hope  always  to  carry  the  reader  with  me,  or — Avhich  is  far 
more  serious — to  have  escaped  all  error.  My  deepest  and  most 
earnest  prayer  is  that  He,  in  Whose  Service  I  have  desired  to  write 
this  book,  would  graciously  accept  the  humble  service — forgive  what 
is  mistaken  and  bless  what  is  true.  And  if  anything  pers(Muil  may 
intrude  into  these  concluding  lines,  I  would  fain  also  designate  what 
I  have  written  as  Apologia  jy^'O  vita  itied  (alike  in  its  fundamental 
direction  and  even  ecclesiastically) — if,  indeed,  that  may  be  called 
an  Apologia  which  is  the  confession  of  this  inmost  conviction  of 
mind  and  heart:  '  Lord,  to  Whom  shall  we  go  ?  The  words  of 
eternal  life  hast  Thou!  And  we  have  believed  and  know  that  Thou 
art  the  Holy  One  of  God.' 


ALFRED  EDERSHELM. 


S  Bradmore  Road,  Oxford: 
September  1883. 


LIST    OF   AUTHORITIES 

CHIEFLY  USED    IN  WRITING   THIS   BOOK. 


Alford:  Greek  Testament. 

Vonder  Aim:  Heidn.    u.   ji'id.  Urtheile 

iiber  Jesii  u.  die  alteii  Christen. 
Altingius:  Dissertationes  et  Orationes. 
Apocrypha:  S.  P.  C.  K.  Commentary  on. 

Tlie  Apocryplial  Gospels. 
Auerbach :  Beritli  Abraham. 

Bachev:  Die  Agada  der  Babylon.     Anio- 

raer. 
Back:  Geschichte  des  Jiid.     Yolkes  u. 

seiner  Literatur. 
Baedeker:  Syrien  u.  Palastina. 
Bdhr:  Gesetz  iiber  Falsche  Zeugen  nach 

Bible  u.  Talmud. 
Barclay:  City  of  the  Great  King. 
Beer:  Leben  Abraham's. 
Beer:  Leben  Alosis. 
Beer,  P. :  Geschichte  d.  relig.  Sekten  d. 

Juden. 
Ben/jel:  Gnomon  Novi  Testamenti. 
Bengel:  Alter  der  jiidischen  Proselyten- 

taufe. 
Bergel:   Naturwissenschaftliche    Kenut- 

nisse  d.  Talmudisten. 
Bergel:  Der  Himmel  u.  seine  AVunder. 
Bergel:  Die  Eheverhaltnisse    der  alteu 

Juden. 
Berliner,  Br.  A . :  Targum  Onkelos. 
Bertholdt:  Christologia  Judfeorum. 
Beyschlag:  Die   Christologie  des  Neuen 

Testaments. 
Beyschlag:  Zur  Johanneischen  Frage. 
Bickell :  Die  Entstehung  der  Liturgie  aus 

der  Einsetzungsfeier. 
Bleek:    Einleitung  in    das  Neue  Testa- 
ment, ed.  Mangold. 
Bleek:    Synoptische    Erklarung  d.  drei 

Evangelien. 
Bloch :  Studien  z.  Gesch.  der  Sammlung 

d  althebr.  Literatur. 
Blocli :  Das    Mosaisch-talmud.     Polizei- 

rechl. 
Bloch :  Civilprocess-Ordnung  nach  Mos. 

rabb.  Rechte. 
Bochartns:  Hierozoicon. 
Bodek:  Marcus  Aurelius  u.  R.  Jehudah. 
Bodenschatz:  Kircbliche  Verfassung  der 

heutiizren  .Juden. 


Bbhl:    Forschuugen  nach  einer  Volks- 

bibel  zur  Zeit  Jesu. 
Bbhl:  Alttestamentliche  Citate  im  N.  T. 
Bonar:  The  Land  of  Promise. 
Braun:  DieSohne  des  Herodes. 
Brauri/us:  De  Vestitu  Ilebrajorum. 
Brecher :  DasTranscendentale  iniTalmud. 
Bredow:  Rabbinische  Mytheu,  <tc. 
Brilckner:    Die  Versuchuugsgeschichte 

unseres  Herrn  Jesu  Christi. 
Br  tick:  Rabbinische  Ceremonialgebrau- 

che. 
Br  nil:  Fremdsprachliche  Redensarten  ira 

Talmud. 
Br  nil:  Trachten  der  Juden. 
Buber:  Pesikta. 
Backer:  Des  Apostels  Johannes  Lehre 

vom  Logos. 
Burgon :  The  Last  Twelve  Verses  of  St. 

Mark. 
Buxforf:  Exercitationes. 
Buxtorf:  Synagoga  Judaica. 
Buxtorf;  Lexicon  Talmud. 

Calvin:  Comment,  (passim). 
Cahen :  Repertorium  Talmudicum. 
Carpzov:  Chuppa  Hebneorium. 
Caspar i:  Einleitung  in  das  Leben  Jesu 

Christi. 
Cassel:  Das  Buch  Kusari. 
Cassel:    Lehrbuch   der  Jiid.     Gesch.  u. 

Literatur. 
Castelli:  Commento  di  Sabbatai  Donnolo 

sul  libro  della  Creazione. 
Castelli:  II  Messia  secondo  gli  Ebrei. 
Cavedoni:  Biblische  Numismatik. 
Charter  is :  Canonicity. 

Chasronoth  Hashas. 
Cheyne:  Prophecies  of  Isaiah. 
Chijs:  De  Herode  Magno. 
Cohen:  Les  Deicides. 

Commentaries,    Speaker's,    on    the 
Gospels;     Camb.     Bible   on    the 
Gospels. 
Conder:  Tent  AVork  in  Palestine. 
Couder:  Handbook  to  the  Bible. 
Conforte:  Liber  Kore  ha-Dorot. 
Cook:  The  Rev. Version  of  the  Gospels. 
Creizetuich :  Shulcan  Ariich. 


XXll 


LIST   OF  AUTHORITIES. 


Cremer:  New  Testament  Dictionary. 
Cureton :  Syriac  Gospels. 

Ddhiie:  Ji'ulisch-Alex.  Religionsphilos. 
Daridson :  Introduction  to  the  Study  of 

tlie  New  Testament. 
DdTiiJson:  The  Last  Things. 
Dachx:  Codex  SuccaTalmudisBabylonici. 
I)(tJikn:  IIistoriaRevelatlonisDivina?N.T. 
Bniiko:  De  Sacra  Scriptura  ejusque  in- 

terpretatione  Conuneutarius. 
Dehiuiiaji:  Moines  et  Siljylles  dans  Tau- 

tiquite  Judeo-Grecque. 
Delifzsch :    Handwerkerleben     zur    Zeit 

Jesu. 
Dditzsch  :  Geschiciite  der  jiid.  Poesie. 
Delitzsrh :    Durcli   Kraidvheit  zur   Gene- 
sung. 
Beb'tzsch :  Bin  Tag  in  Capernaum. 
Delitzsch:  Untersu.chungen  iib.  die  Ent- 

steh.  u.  Aidage  d.  .Mattii.-Evang. 
Delifzsclr,  Talniu<1isrhe  Studieu. 
Delitzsch :  Jesus  und  llillei. 
DerenboKi-ij:  Essai  sur  I'Histoire   et  la 

Geograpiiie  de  la  Palestine. 
Deiitsch:  Literary  Remains. 
Dp>/liii{/ius :  Observationes  Sacra?. 
DiUmnnn:  Das  Bucli  Henoch. 
DoUiiu/er:  Heidenthum  und  Judentluim. 
Drummonil:  Tlie  .Jewisli  Messiah. 
Diikfs:  Zni'  Rabbinischen  Sprachkunde. 
Dukes:  Rabbiiiisohe  Blumenlese. 
Dusch((k:  Zur  Rotanik  des  Talmud. 
Diischak:  Die  Moral  der  Evangelien  und 

des  Talmud. 
Duschak:  Jiidischer  Cultus. 
Dnsc/itik :  Schulgesetzgebung. 

Ebrard:    Wissenschaftliehe    Kritik    der 

evangel,  (icschichte. 
Eders]tfim :  History  of  the  .Jewish  Nation. 
Edersheim:  TheTenq)le,  its  Ministry  and 

its  Services. 
EdPTsheim:  Sketclies   of  .Jewish    Social 

Life. 
Ehrmann:  Geschichteder Schulen  u.  der 

Cultur  unter  den  .Juden. 
EisemnriKicr:  Entdecktes  Judenthum. 
Eislcr:  Reitriige  zur   Rabb.  Sprach-    u. 

Alterthums-kunde. 
EUicutt:  New  Testament   Commentary: 

Gosi^els. 
EUicoft:    I^ectures   on   the   I^ife   of    oui' 

Lord. 

Encyclopitdia  Britannica   { passim). 
Ether idye:  Tlie  Targums  on  the  Penta- 
teuch. 
Euselniis:  Ecclesiastical  History. 
Ewald:  Abodah  Sai'ah. 
Eicald:  Geschichte  des  Volkes  Israel. 
Ewald:  Bibl.  Jahrb.  (  passim). 


Fabric  ill  s:  Codex  PseudepigraphusV.T. 

Farrar:  Life  of  Christ. 

Farrar:  Eternal  Hope. 

Fassi'l:  Das  Mos.  rabb.  Civilrecht. 

Fassel :  Gerichts-Verf. 

Field:  Otium  Norvicense. 

Fdipoirski:  Lil)er  Juchassin. 

Fisher:  Beginnings  of  Christianity. 

Fraiikel:  Targum  der  Proi)h. 

Frankel:  Ueb.d.  Einfl.d.  paliist.  Exegese 

auf  die  Alexandr.  Hermeneutik. 
Frankel:    Mouatschrift  fiir   das   Juden- 
thum (passim). 
Frankel:    Vorstudien    zu    der    Septua- 

ginta. 
Frankel:    Einleitung   in    d.    Jerusalem 

Talmud. 
Era  nek:  d.  Kabbala. 
Freudenthal:  Hellenistische  Studien. 
Friedenthal:    Jessode    haddat   weikere 

Haeniuna. 
Friedlaender:  Sittengeschichte  Roms. 
Friedlaender:  Ben  Dosa  u.  seine  Zeit. 
Friedlaender:    Patristische  u.  Talmud- 

ische  Studien. 
Friedlieb:  Oracula  Sibyllina. 
Friedlieb:   Archaologie  der  Leidensge- 

schichte. 
Fried/i/an)i:  Siphre  debe  Rab. 
Fritzsche  ii.  Grimm:  Handbuch   zu  den 

Ajiokryplien. 
Fritzsche  n.  drimm  :  Libri  V.  T.  Pseud- 

epigraphi  Selecti. 
Fuller:  Harmony  of  the  Four  Gospels. 
FUrst:  Der  Kanon  des  A.  T. 
Filrst:  Ivulturu.  Literaturgeschichte  der 

Juden  in  x\sien. 
Fi(j-st:  Biblioth.  Jiid.  (passim). 
Filrstenthal:  Menorath  Hammaor. 
Fiirstetithal:  Jessode  haddat. 

Geier:  De  Ebra^orum  Luctu  Lugen- 
tiumque  Ritibus. 

Geiyer:  Das  Judenthum  u.  seine  Ge- 
schichte. 

Gei<jer:  Beitriige  z.  Jiid.  Literatur-Gesch. 

Geir/er:  Zeitschrift  fur  Jud.  Theol.  (p)as- 
sim). 

Geii/er:  Urschrift  n.  Uebersetzungen  del 
Bibel. 

Geikie:  Life  and  Words  of  Christ. 

Gelpke:  Die  Jugendgesch.  des  Herrn. 

Gerlach:  Die  R:dni.  Statthiilter in  Syrien 
u  JudJia. 

Gf rarer:  T'hilo. 

Gfr<')rer:   .lahrli.  d.  Ileils. 

(rinsburi/:  Ben  Chajim's  Introd. 

Ginslmrfj:  Massoreth  Ha-Massoreth. 

Ginsl)ur<j:  Tlie  Essenes. 

Gi)t.slnirij:  The  Kabbalah. 

Godet:  Commentar. 


LIST  OF  AUTHORITIES. 


XXI 11 


Godef:  BiljI.  Studies. 
Goehel:  Die  Paraijelu  Jesu. 
Goldherij:  The  Language  of  Clirist. 
Gruetz:  Clescliichte  der  Juden. 
Green:  Tlandbiv.  to  tlie  Gnunniar  of  tlie 

Grk.  Te8t. 
Grhr/m:  Die  Samariter. 
Grimm  :  Claris  N.  T. 
Grunemann:  Die   Jonatliaasclie    I'enta- 

teuch-Uebersetzung. 
Griinehaum :  Sittenlebre  des.Iudeiithuins. 
Gnerut :  Description  do  la   Palestine  et 

Saniarie. 
Guillemdrd:    Hebraisms   in    the   Greelv 

Testament. 
GiinzbKr'j:    Beleuchtuug  des  alten  Ju- 

denthums. 

II'i infill rijer:  Real  Encyklopiidie  f.  Bibel 

u.  Talmud. 
Ilainelsreld:  Dissertatio  de  itdibus  vet. 

Hebr. 
Haneberg:  Die  relig.  Alterth.  der  Bibel. 
Harnoch:  De   Philouis  Judivi  Log.  In- 

quisitio. 
Hart  nut  un :  Die  Hebraerin  am  Putztische 

u.  als  Braut. 
Harfmrtiu) :    Die  enge  Verbiudung  des 

A.  T.  mit  dem  Neuen. 
Hase:  Lebeu  Jesu. 
Hrinpf:  Die  A.  T.  Citate  in  den  i  Evan- 

gelien. 
Hans  rath:     Neutestamentliche    Zeitge- 

schichte. 
Her zf eld:  Gescbichte  Israels. 
Herzfehl:  Handelsgescbichte  der  .Judeu 

des  Alterthums. 
Herzog:  Real-Encyklopadie  (passim). 
UHdesheimer:  Der  Herod.  Tempel  n.  d. 

Talmud  u.  Josephus. 
Uilgenfeld:  Jiidische  Apokalyptik. 
Hirsc/ifeld:  Halach.  u.  Hagad.  Exegese. 
Hirschfeld:  Tractatus  Macot. 
Hitzig :  Geschichte  des  Volkes  Israel. 
Hoffmann:  Leben  Jesu. 
Hofmann:  Schriftbeweis. 
Hofmann:  Weissagung  u.  Erfiillung. 
Hoffmann:  Abhandluugeu  iib.  die  Pen- 
tat.  Gesetze. 
Holdheim:  d.  Cerem.  Ges. 
Hottinger:  Juris  Hebr.  Leges. 
Huschke:  Ueb.  d.  Census  u.  die  Steuer- 

verf.  d.  friih.  Rom.  Kaiserzeit. 
Huschke:  Ueb.  d.  z.  Zeil  d.  Geb.  Jesu 

Christi  gehaltenen  Census. 
Hnvercamp :  Flavins  Josephus. 

Ideler:  Chronologie. 
Ikenitis:  Antiquitates  Hebraicse. 
Ikenius:  Dissertationes  Philologieo-theo- 
logicae. 


Jellinek:  Beth  ha-Midrasli. 

Joel:  Blick  in  <1.  Religionsgescii.  d.  2teu 

Christiiehen  Jahrh. 
Joel:  Kdigiiinsphilos.  des  iSohar. 
Jost:  Gesch.  d.  Judenth.  u.  seiner  Sekten. 
Jon-eft:  Epistles  of   St.    Paul,   Romans, 

Galatians,  Thessalonians. 
Josephus  Gorionides:  ed.  Breithaupt. 
JatjnljoU:    Comment,    in    Hist.     Gentis 

Samaritaiue. 

Keil:  Einl.  in.  d.   Kanon.   u.   Ai)okrvph. 

Scbriften  des  A.  T. 
Keim :  Geschichte  Jesu  von  Nazara. 
Kennedy:  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 
Kirchheim :    Septem     Libri     Talmudici 

parvi  Hierosol. 
Kirchner:  Jiid.  Passahf. 
Kitto:  Cyclopaedia  of  Biblical  Literature 

{'passim). 
Kofiut:  Jiidische  Angelologie  u.  Daemo- 

nologie. 
Konig:  Die  Menschwerdung  Gottes. 
Kosfer:  Nachw.  d.  Spur,  einer  Trinitats- 

lehre  vor  Christo. 
Kraff't:  Jiidische  Sagen  u.   Dichtungen. 
Krauss:  Die  Grosse  Syuode. 
A0-f6.s-:  Decreta  Athen  in  honor  Hyrcani 

P.  M.  Judfeorum. 
Krebs:  Decreta  Roman,  pro  Juda^is. 
Krehs:  Observationes  in  Nov.  Test. 
Kuhn:    Stadt.    u.  Inirgerl.    Yerfass    d. 

Rom.  Reichs. 

Landau:  Arukh. 

Lange:  Bibehverk  (on  Gospels). 

Langen  :  Judenthum  in  Paliistina  z.  Zeit 

Christi. 
Lange:  Leben  Jesu. 

Langf elder:  Symbolik  des  Judenthums. 
Laftes:  Saggio  di  Giunte  e  Correzzioni  al 

Lessico  Talmudico. 
Lavadeur:  Krit.  Beleucht.  d.  jiid  Kalen- 

derwesens. 
Lenormant:  Chaldean  Magic. 
I^eti:  Historia  Religionis  jfuda^orum. 
Levy:  Neuhebr.   u.   Chaldaisch.  AVorter- 

buch. 
Lery:    Chaldaisch.    Wiirterb.    iiber    die 

Targumim. 
ier^:  Gesch.  der  Jiidiscb.  Miinzen. 
Lei-yssohii:  Disputatio  de  Jud.  sub.  Ca's. 

Conditione. 
Leu-in :  Fasti  Sacri. 
Len-in:  Siege  of  Jerusalem. 
Len-yssohn:  Zoologie  des  Talmuds. 
Ligidfoof:   Hora  Hebraica  et  Talnind- 

ica  in  4  Evangel. 
Ligidfoof:  Comnieiitary  on  Galatians. 
Lighffoof:  Commentary   on   Colossians. 
Lisco:  Die  Wnnder  .lesu  Christi. 


X\1V 


LIST   OF  AUTHORITIES. 


Loir:  Beitriige  z.  jiid  Altorthuniskiuule. 
Ao//':  Lebeusalter  in  d.  jiid.  Literutiir. 
Loire:  Schulchan  Arucd. 
Loiry:  Biggoreth  liii  Talniud. 
Lucius:  Essenisimis  in  .sein  Verhilltn  z. 

Jutlenth. 
Liicke:  Johiinnerf  (Gorfpel). 
Jjundius:  Jiulisciio  Hoiligtliiinicr. 
Lnthardt:    Johaun.  Evangelium. 
Ltiihnrdt:  Die  modern.  Darslell.  d.  Le- 

bens  Jesu. 
Lutterheck:  Neutestamentliche  Lelirbe- 

grifle. 

McLellan:  New  Testament  itxospels). 
Madden:  Coins  of  the  .Jews. 
Maimonides:  Yad  liaCliazziikali. 
Marcus;  Padagogiiv  des  Tahniid. 
Marqiiardt:  Rom,  Staatsverwaltuug. 
Martinus:  Fidei  Pugio. 
Maybaum:  Die  Anthropomoii)!!.  u.  An- 

tliropopatli.  bei  Onkelos. 
Megillath  Taauitla. 
Meier:  Judaica. 
MfKscltpu :    Nov.   Test   e.\    Talnmde    et 

Joseph. 
Meyer:  Seder  01am  Rabba  et  Suta. 
Meyer:  Buch  Jezira. 
Meyer:  Kommentar.  (ou  Gospels). 
Meyer:  Arbeit  u.  Ilandwgrk.  im  Talmud. 
Midrash  Rabboth. 

Midrashim.      (See    List    in    Rabb. 
Abb  rev.) 
Mill:  On  the  M\thical  Interpretation  of 

the  Gospels. 
Mishnah. 
Molitor:  Philosophic  der  Geschichte. 
Moscovitor:  Het  N.  T.  en  de  Talmud. 
Milller:  Mess.  Erwart.  d.  Jud.  Philo. 
Milller:  Zur  Johann  Frage. 
Miiller,  J. :  Massech.  Sopher. 
Milnter:  Stern  der  Weisen 

Naiiz:  Die  Besessenen  im  N.  T. 

Neander:  Life  of  Christ. 

Nehe:  Leidensgesch.  uuser.  Herru  Jesu 

Christi. 
Nebe:  Auferstehungsgesch.  unser.  Herru 

Jesu  Christi. 
Neiihnuer:  La  Geographie  du  Talmud. 
Neubauer  and  Driver:  Jewish  Interpre- 
ters of  Isaiah,  liii. 
Xeiniuniii:    Messian.    Erschein.    Ijei    d. 

Juden. 
Neumarni:  Gesch.  d.  Mess.  Weissag.  im 
A.  T. 

New    Testament.      Ed.    Scrivener. 
Ed.  Westcott  and  Hort.   Ed.  Geb- 
hardt. 
JSlcolai:  De  Sepulchris  Hebra^oram. 

Nizzachon  Vetus.  et  Toledotli  Jeshu. 


Nicholson :    Tlie  Gospel  accord,   to  the 

Hebrews. 
Morris:  New  Testament  (Gospels). 
Nork:  Rabbinische  Quellen  u.  Parallelen. 
Nil  ft:  Samaritan  History. 

OtJio:  Lexicon  RaljViin.  Philolog. 
Outram:     De      Sacriticiis     Judteor     et 

Christi. 

Othijoth  de  R.  Akiba. 
Oxlee:    Doc.   of   Trinity  on  Princips.    of 

Judaism. 


Pag ni  11  us-  Thesaurus  Lingua^  Sauctte. 
Palestine   E.xploration   Fund  Quar- 
terly Statements  {passim). 
Perles:  Liechenfeierlichk.   im  Nachbibl, 

Judenth. 
Philii)2)soii :    Ilaben    wirklich  die    Jud. 

Jesuni  gekreuzigt ''. 
Philippsoii:  Israellt.  Religionslehre. 
Philo  Juduius:  Opera. 

Pictorial  Palestine  (passim). 
Picturesque  Palestine. 
Pinner:   Berachoth. 
Pinner:  Compend.  des Hieros.  u.  Babyl. 

Thalm. 

Pirke  de  R.  Elieser. 
PI II in pt re:  Comment,  on  the  Gospels. 
Pliiinplre:   Hihle  Educator (y;f/s67'w). 
Pocock:  Porta  Mosis. 
Prayer-books,    Jeirish :    i.  Arnheim.  ii. 

Mannheimer.     iii.    Polak     (Frankfort 

ed.).   iv.  Friedliinder.  v.  F.  A.  Euchel. 

vi.  Jacobson.    vii.  Pesach  Haggadah. 

viii.  Rodelheim  ed. 
Pressense:  Jesus  Christ:  His  Time,  Life, 

and  "Works. 
Prideaii.v:  Connec.  of  0.  and  N.T. 
Pusey:  What  is  of  Faith  as  to  Everlasting 

Punishment  ? 

Rabbinowicz:  Einleit.   in  d.  Gesetzgeb. 

u.  Medicin  d.  Talm. 
Earn  is:  Dissertat.  de.  aedib.  vet.  Hebr. 
Bedslob:  Die  Kanonisch.  Evangelien. 
Eeland:    Anticpiit.    Sacr.    veter.  Hebr. 
Belaud:  Pakvstina. 
Remond:  Ausbreit.  d.  Judenthuins. 
Renan :  L'Antechrist. 
Renan  :  Vie  de  Jesus. 
Renan :  Marc-Aurele. 
Rhenferdet  Vitriiuja:  De  Decern  Otiosis 

Syuagoga;. 
Riehni:  Haudworterb.  d.  bibl.  Alterth. 

{2yassi')n). 
Riehm:  LehrbegritT  d.  Hebraerbriefs. 
Riess:  Geburtsjahr  Christi. 
Ritter:  Philo  u.  die  Ilalacha. 
Roberts:  Discussion  on  the  Gositcls. 


LIST   OF  AUTHUI{IT[K>. 


XXV 


liohinsoir.   Bil)rK-al  l{i\st';irclu>s  in  J'aleci- 

tiiie. 
Roeth  :  Epistola  ad  Hebrteos. 
Bohr:  Paliistiiia  z.  Zeit  Christi. 
Bdiisc//:  Bucli  Jubilaen. 
Rous:  Lehreu.  Lebeiisgescli.  JesuCliri(<ti. 
Riisch:  Jesus-Mythen  d.  Talinudist. 
Rospjimilller:  Biblisch.  GeoiiTaphie. 
Rossi,  Azarjnh  de:  Meor  Eiiajiiii. 
Rossi,  Giambernnrdo  de:   Delia  Liuji'ua 

Propria  di  Christo. 

Sdchs:  Beitriigez.  SpracU  u.  Altertlmms- 

kuiide. 
JSaalsc/niiz:  Musik  bei  d.  Hebrileni. 
Saalschiitz:  Mos.  Recht. 
Halmidor:  Ronierherrscluift  in  Judiea. 
Salvador:  Gescb.  d.  Jiid.  Volkes. 
Hammter:  Baba  Mezia. 
Schenkel:  Bibel-Iiexicoii  (jiassim). 
JSchleusner:  Lexicon  Gr.  Lat.  in  N.T. 
Hchiner:  De  Chuppa  Ilebraioruni. 
Schmilg:     Der     Siegeskaleuder    Megill 

Taanitli. 
SchnecJierdncrger :  Neutestanient.  Zeitge- 

schiclite. 
JSchoetfijf'n :     Hora3    Hebraicse    et    Tal- 

niudic;e. 
Schreiber:  Principien  des  Judentluims. 
Schroedenis:     Comment,      de     Vestitu 

Mulier.  Hebr. 
Schilrer:  Neutestam.  Zeitgescli. 
Sckiirer:  Gemeindeverfass.  d.  Juden  in 

Rom  in  d.  Kaiserzeit. 
Schwab:  Le  Talmud  de  Jerusalem. 
Schwarz:  I).  Heilige  Land. 
Schwarz:  Tosifta  Shabbath. 
Scrivener:  Introduction  to  the  Criticism 

of  the  New  Testament. 
Seder  Hadoroth. 
Selden  :  De  Synedriis  Ebr. 
Seidell :  De  Jure  Naturali  et  Gent.  Hebr. 
Selden:  Uxor  Ebraica. 
Sej)}}:  Leben  Jesu. 
Sevin  :  Chronologie  des  Lebens  Jesu. 
Sheri/ighani :  Jonia. 
Siegfried:  Philo  vou  Alexandria. 
Singer:  Onkelos   u.    seine  Verhaltn.  z. 

Halacha. 

Sion  Ledorosh. 
Smith :  Dictionary  of  tlie  Bible  ( passim). 
Smith  and  W((ce:  Dictionary  of  Christian 

Biography  (passim). 
Sohar. 

Tikkune  haSohar. 
Salowetjczyk:    Bibel,  Talmud,   u.   Evan- 

gelium. 
Sommer :  Mispar  haSohar. 
Spencer:  De  Legib.  Hebr.  Ritual. 
Spiess:  Das  Jerusalem  des  Josephus. 
Spitzer:  Das  Mahl  bei  den  Hebriiern. 


Staideij:  Sinai  and  I'alesliiic. 

Stein rnei/er:  Gebiu't   des    llerrn    u.  seiii- 

erste  Schritte  im  Leben. 
Steinmeijer:  Die  Parabeln  des  llerrn. 
Stein :  Schrift  des  Lebens. 
Stern :  Die  Fran  im  Talmud. 
Stern:  Gesch.  des  Judenthums. 
Slier:  Reden  des  Ilerrn  Jesu. 
Sfrack:  Pirke  Aboth. 
Struck:  Proleg.  Crit.  in  V.T.  Hebr. 
Strauss:  Letien  Jesu. 

Supernatural  Religion. 
S/irenhiisins:  Biblos  Katallages. 
Surenhnsins:  Mishnah. 

Talmud,  Babylon  and  Jerusalem. 
Targum,  the  Targumlm  in  the  Mik- 
raoth  gedoloth. 
Taylor:  Sayings  of  the  Jewish  Fathers 
(Pirqe    Ab..    &c.).    with    critical    and 
illustrative  Notes. 
Taylor:  Great  Exemplar. 
Taitchuma:  Midrash. 
Thein :  Der  Talmud. 

Theologische    Studieu    u.    Kritikeu 
( passim). 
Tholuck:  Bergpredigt  Christi. 
Tholuck:  Das' Alt.  Test,  im  Neu.  Test. 
Tischendorf:  When   were   our  Gospels 

written  ? 
Toetterman :  R.  Eliezer  ben  Hyrcanu.s. 
Traill:   Josephus. 
Trench  :  Notes  on  the  Miracles 
Trench :  Notes  on  the  Parables. 
Tristram :  Natural  History  of  the  Bible. 
Tristram:  Land  of  Israel. 
Tristram :  Land  of  Moab. 
Trusen:    Sitten,   Gebriiuche  u.    Krank- 
heiten.  d.  alt.  Hebr. 

Ugolinus:  Thesaurus  Anticiuitatum  Sac- 

rarum  {passim). 
Unriih:    Das    alte    Jerusalem  u.    seine 

Bauwerke. 

Ver))es:  Histoire  des  Idees  Messianiques. 
Vitringa :  De  Synagoga  Vetere. 
Volkmar:  Einleitungin  die  Ai)okryphen. 
Volkmar:  Marcus. 
Volkmar:   Mose  Prophetic  u.    Himmel- 

fahrt. 
Vorstius:  De  Hebraisms  Nov.  Test. 

Wace:  The  Gosi)el  and  its  Witnesses. 
Wagenseil:    Sota. 

Wahl:  Clavis  Nov.  Test.  Pliilolu-ica. 
Warneck:  Pontius  Pilatus. 
Watkins:  Gospel  of  St.  John. 
Welier:    Johannes    der    Ttiufer    u.    die 
Parteien  seiner  Zeit. 


xxw 


LIST   OF  AUTHORITIES. 


W'ahcr:  System  der  nltsyiiiiyot;-.  paliist.   ; 

Theolofcie. 
B.  Weiss:  Lelirli.  d.  I.ilil.  Tlieol.  desN.T. 
ITe/w:  Mecliilta. 
UV'/.s'.v:  Sii)hrti. 

B.   ]\'eiss:  Mtittliiiiisevaiigeliuin. 
B.   Weiss:  Lel)('n  Jesu. 
]IV/.s'.s-:    Gescliichtc.  derjiul.  Tradition. 
Weizsilcker:  Uiitersuch.  lib.  die  evauj^el. 

Gescbichte. 
Wdllinusen:  Die  Pharisaer  u.  die  Sad- 

duciier. 
Wi'stroU:  Introduction  to  the   Study  of 

tlie  Gosi)eis. 
M'fstcott:    On   tbe   Canon   of  the  New 

Testament. 
Westrntf:  Gospel  of  St.  Jobn. 
Wefstfin :  Novum  Testamentum  Gnecuni 

(Gospels). 
WicJicIhdvs:  Kommentar   zur   Leidens- 

geschichte. 
Wieseler:  Beitriige  zuden  Evang.  u.  der 

Evangel.  Gesch. 
Wieseler:  Cbronol.  Syno])se  der  4  Evan- 

gelien. 
Wiesner:  d.  Bann  in  s.  Gescb.  Entwicke- 

lung. 
Winer :  Bibliscbes  Realworterbuch  ( pas- 
sim). 


Winer:  De  Onkeloso. 

Wilson:  Recovery  of  Jerusalem. 

Witticheu :  Die  Idee  des  Reicbes  Gottes. 

Wittichen :  Leljen  Jesu. 

Woljiiis:  Bibliotbeca  Hebnta  (pfissim). 

Wordswori/i:  Commentary  (Gospels). 

Wnnderbdv:  Biljl.  talmud.  Aledecin. 

Wilnsche:  Die  Leiden  des  Alessias. 

Wilnsche:  Neue  Beitriige  z.  Erlilut.  der 

Evangel. 
Wilnsclie:  Der  .Jerusalemiscbe  Talmud. 
Wilnsche:  Biljliotbeca  Rabbinica. 

Yalkut  Sbimeoni. 
Yalkut  Rubeni. 
Youny:  Cbristology  of  tbe  Targums. 

Zahn:  Forscb.  zur Gescb.  d.  N.T.  Kanons. 
Zeller:  Pbilosopbie  der  Griechen. 

Zemacb  David. 
Ziminermann  :  Karten  u.  Pliine  z.  Topo- 
graphic des  alten  Jerusalems. 
ZocMer:  Handb.  d.Theol.Wissenscbaften. 
Znmjd:  Geburtsjaln-  Christi. 
Zunz:  Zur  Gescbichte  u.  Literatur. 
Z?/»z:DieGottesdienstl.  Yortr.  d.  .Juden. 
Zimz:  Synagogale  Poesie. 
Z'o?2:  Ritus  d.Synagogalen-Gottesdienst. 
Znckermandel :  Tosephta. 


LIST    OF    ABBREVIATIONS    USED    IX    REFERENCE    TO 
RABBINIC   WRITINGS    (QUOTED    IN    THIS  WORK. 

The  Mis/uHi/i  iri  always  quoted  according  lo  Tractate,  (lia-ptfr  (Pereq)  and  Para- 
ijraph  (Mishnah),  the  Chapter  l)ein.ii'  marked  in  Eoman,  the  paragraph  in  ordinary 
Numerals.  Thus  Ber.  ii.  4  means  the  .Misimic  Tractate  Berakhoth,  second  Chapter, 
fourth  Paragi-aph. 

The  Jerusalem  TaJvuid  is  distinguished  liy  the  ai)1)reviation  Jer.  ijefore  the 
name  of  the  Tractate.  Thus,  .Ter.  Ber.  is  the  .Jer.  Gemara,  or  Talmud,  of  the  Tractate 
Berah-hoth.  The  edition,  from  which  quotations  are  made,  is  that  commonly  used, 
Krotoschin,  1866,  1  vol.  fol.  The  quotations  are  made  either  by  Chapter  and  Para- 
grapli  (.Jer.  Ber.  ii.  4),  or,  in  these  volumes  mostly,  l)y  page  and  column.  It  ought 
to  be  noted  that  in  Ilabbinic  writings  each  page  is  really  a  double  one.  distinguished 
respectively  as  a  and  h:  a  being  the  page  to  the  left  hand  of  the  readei-,  and  h  the 
reverse  one  (on  turning  over  the  page)  to  the  right  hand  of  the  reader.  But  in  the 
Jerusalem  Gemara  (and  in  Yalkut  [see  below],  as  in  all  works  where  the  page  and 
column  {col.)  are  mentioned)  the  (luotation  is  often — in  these  volumes,  mostly — made 
by  page  and  column  (two  columns  being  on  each  side  of  a  page).  Thus,  while  .Jer. 
Ber.  ii.  4  would  be  Chapter  11.  Par.  4,  the  corresi)onding  (luotation  by  page  and  col- 
umn would  in  that  instance  be,  .Jer.  Ber.  4  d:  0  marking  that  it  is  tiie  fourth  culnmii 
in  h  (or  the  ofl-side)  of  iiage  4. 

The  Babyl.  Talminl  is.  in  all  its  editions,  equally  jiaged,  so  that  a  quotation  made 
applies  to  all  editions.  It  is  double-paged,  and  ([uoted  with  the  name  of  the  Tractate, 
the  number  of  the  page,  and  a  or  b  according  as  one  or  another  side  of  the  page  is 
referred  to.  The  quotations  are  distinguished  from  those  of  the  Mishnah  ])y  this, 
that  in  the  Mishnah  Roman  and  ordinary  numerals  are  employed  (to  mark  Chapters 
and  Paragraphs),  while  in  the  Babylon  Talmud  the  name  of  the  Tractate  is  followed 
by  an  ordinary  numeral,  indicating  the  page,  together  with  a  or  6,  to  mark  wliich 
side  of  the  page  is  referred  to.  Thus  Ber.  4  a  means:  Tractate  Berachoth.  \).  4.  first 
or  left-hand  side  of  the  page. 

1  have  used  the  Vienna  edition,  but  this,  as  already  explained,  is  not  a  point  of 
any  importance.  To  facilitate  the  verification  of  passages  quoted  I  have  in  very 
many  instances  quoted  also  the  line)^,  either  from  top  or  bottom. 

The  abbreviation  Tos.  {Tosephtn,  additamentum)  before  the  name  of  a  Tractate 
refers  to  the  additions  made  to  the  Mishnah  after  its  redaction.  This  redaction  dates 
from  the  third  century  of  our  era.  The  Tos.  extends  only  over  52  of  the  Mishnic 
Tractates.  They  are  inserted  in  the  Talmud  at  the  end  of  each  Tractate,  and  are 
printed  on  the  doulde  pages  in  double  columns  (col.  a  and  h  on  p.  a.  col.  e  and 
(I  on  p.  h).  They  are  generally  quoted  by  Pereq  and  Mishnah :  thus,  Tos.  Gitt.  i.  1. 
or  (more  rarely)  by  page  and  column,  Tos.  Gitt.  p.  l.iO  a.  The  ed.  7.uckcrmaiiiM 
is,  when  quoted,  specially  indicated. 

Besides,  the  Tractate  Ahoth  de  Rabbi  Nathan  (Ab.  de.  R.  Math.),  and  the  smaller 
Tractates,    Sopherim   (Sopher.).    Semarhoth    (Seniarh.).    Kalhih   (Kail,   or  ChaU.% 

1  It  is  to  be  noted  that  in  tJiP  marginal  ami  notp-rPterfncPs  the  olrl  mode  of  indicating  a 
reference  (as  in  the  first  ed.  of  this  hook)  and  tlie.  perliai)s,  more  correct  mode  of  translitera- 
tion have  been  promiscuously  employed.  But  the  reader  can  have  no  difficulty  in  under- 
standing the  reference. 


XXVlll  I.IST   OF  ABBREVIATIONS. 

JJerekh  Erets  {Der  Er.),  Derekh  Erets  Ziita  (commouly  Der  Er.  S.),  and  Pereg 
Shalom  {Per.  Shal.)  are  inserted  at  the  close  of  vol.  ix.  of  the  Talmud.  They  are 
printed  in  four  columns  (on  double  pages),  and  quoted  by  Pereq  and  Mishnah. 

The  so-called  Septem  Libri  Talmudici  parvi  Hierosolymitani  are  published 
separately  (ed.  Raphael  Kirchheim,  Frcf  1851).  They  are  the  Massecheth  Sepher 
Torah  {Mass.  Se/ph.  Tor.),  Mass.  Mezuzah  {Mass.  Mesus.),  Mass.  Tephillin  {Mass. 
Tephill.),  Mass.  Tsitsith  {Mass.  Ziz.),  Mass.  Ahhadim  {Mass.  Abaci.),  Mass.  Kuthlm 
{Mass.  Cuth.),  and  Mass.  Gerim  {Mass.  Ger.).  They  are  printed  and  quoted 
according  to  double  pages  {a  and  b). 

To  these  must  be  added  the  so-called  Vhesronoth  haShas,  a  collection  of  jjassages 
expurgated  in  the  ordinary  editions  from  the  various  Tractates  of  the  Talmud. 
Here  we  must  close,  what  might  else  assume  undue  proportions,  by  an  alphabetical 
list  of  the  abbreviations,  although  only  of  the  principal  books  referred  to: — 

Ab.  Zar.  '  .         .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Abhodah  Zarah,  on  Idolatry. 

Ab.      .         .         .     •'  '■  '•         PZ/yyey  .IfeZ/o^/?,  Sayings  of  the  Fathers. 

Ab.  de  P  Nath.      The  Tractate  Abhoth  de  Rabbi  Nathan  at  the  close  of  vol.  ix.  in 

the  Bab.  Talm. 
Arakh.       .        .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Arakhiii,  on  the  redemption  of  persons  or 

things  consecrated  to  the  Sanctuary. 

Bab.  K.       .        .     "  "  "        5aM«  Qaw7«a  (' First  Gate '),  the  first, 

Bab.  Mets.  [or  Mez.^  "  "        Babha  Metsia  ('Middle  Gate  '),  the  second, 

Bab.  B.      .        .     "  "  "        5a6//rt  5«it/^?-«  ('Last  Gate'),  the  third  of 

the  great  Tractates  on  Common  Law. 

Bechor.      .        .     "  "  '•        i?t'A7;oro^/^  on  the  consecration  to  the  Sanc- 

tuary of  the  First-born. 

Bemid  R.  .        .  The  Midrash  (or  Commentary  {Bemidbar  Rabba.  on  Numbers. 

Ber.  .         .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Berakhoth,  on  Prayers  and  Benedictions. 

Ber.  R.       .         .  The  Midrash  (or  Commentary)  Bereshith  Rabba,  on  Genesis. 

Bets,  [or  Be^.^^  .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Betsah.  laws  about  an  egg  laid  on  Sabbath 

and  Fast-days,  and  on  similar  points 
connected  with  the  sanctifying  of  such 
seasons. 

Biccur.      .         .     "  "  "        Bikkurim,  on  First-fruits. 

Chag.         .        •     "  "  '■        Ghaijiyali,  on   the  festive   ofl'erings  at  the 

three  Great  Feasts. 

Qhall.         .         .     "  "  "         ChaUah,  on  the  tirst  of  the  dough  (Numb. 

XV.  17). 

Chull.        .        .     •■  "  "        C'A?/////?.  the  rubric  as  to  the  mode  of  killing 

meat  and  kindred  subjects. 

Bebar  R.  .         .  The  Midrash  Det/han'/n  Rfd/tn/.  on  Deuteronomy. 
Bern.         ■         .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Demai.  regarding  Produce,  the  tithing  of 

which  is  not  certain. 

Ech.  R.      .         .  The  Midrash   EkJuih   Rabbathi.  on  Lamentations  (also  (pioted  as 

Mid.  on  Lament). 

Eduy.  .  .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Edu//oth  (Testimonies),  the  legal  determina- 
tions enacted  or  confirmed  on  a  certain 
occasion,  decisive  in  Jewish  History. 

Er^/b.  .         .  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Endihin.  on   the  conjunction  of  Sal)bath- 

boundaries.    (See  Ajipendix  XVII.) 

Midr.  Esth.         .  The  ^Ildrash  on  Estlier. 

'  Mark  the  note  on  previous  page. 


LIST   OF  ABBREVIATIONS. 


XXIX 


Giit. 
Horay. 


The  Talimulio  Tractate  Qittin,  on  Divorce. 


.  The  Taldniudic  Tractate  llorai/oth  '  Decisions '  on  certain  uninten- 
tional transgressions. 
Jnd.    [or  rad]     "  "  "  JTarfw^/m,  on  the  Washing  of  Hands. 

Jebam.    [or  )    ,,  ,,  ,, 

Yebam.'[        \ 
Jam.  [mostly   |     ..  ,^  ^, 

Tom.]       '    ( 


Yebhamoth,  on  the  Levirate. 
Yoma,  on  the  Day  of  Atonement. 


Kel.    . 

Kerith. 

Kethuh. 
Kidd. 
Kil.    . 

Kinn. 


Midr.  Kohel. 
Maris. 
Marts  S/i. 

Machsh. 


Mrtkk:  [or 
MechiL 


Meg  ill. 


Med. 

Menach. 
Midd. 

Mikv. 
Moed  K. 

Naz.  . 
Ned.  . 
Neg.  . 
Nidd. 


Ohol. 
Orl. 

Par. 
Peak 
Pes. 


Mace 


A'e^i'm,  on  the  purification  of  furniture  and 

vessels. 
Kerithufh,  on  the  inuiishment  of  'cutting 

off.' 
KethubJioth,  on  marriage-contracts. 
"  "  Qiddushin,  on  Betrothal. 

"  "  "  Kilayhn.    on   the   unlawful   commixtures 

(Lev.  xix.  19;  Deut.  xxii.  9-11). 
"  "  "  Qinnim,  on  the  offering  of  doves  (Lev.  v. 

1-10;  xii.  8). 

The  Midrash  on  Qoheleth  or  Eccles. 
The  Talmudic  Tractate  Maaseroth,  on  Levitical  Tithes. 
"  "  "  Jihftse?*  (S/«eM/, on  second  Tithes  (Deut.  xiv. 

22,  &c.). 
"  "  "  Makhshirin,  on  fluids  that   nuiy  render 

products  '  defiled,'  or  that  leave  them 
undefiled  (Lev.  xi.  34,  38). 
]  "  "  "  Makkoth,  on  the  punishment  of  Stripes. 

"  "  ife^Virf^rt,  a  Commentary  on  part  of  Exo- 

dus, dating  at  the  latest  from  the  first 
half  of  the  second  century. 
"  "  MegUlah,  referring  to  the  reading  of  the 

('roll')  Book  of  Esther  and  on  the 
Feast  of  Esther. 
"  "  MeUah,  on  the  defilement  of  tilings  con- 

secrated. 
"  "  Menachoth,  on  Meat-offerings. 

"  "  Middoth,   on   the    Temple-measurements 

and  arrangements. 
"  "  MiqvaotJi,  on  ablutions  and  immersions. 

"  "  Moed  Qatau,  on  Half-holidays. 

"  "  Nazir,  on  the  Nasirate. 

"  "  Nedavim,  on  Vowing. 

"  "  Negaim,  on  Leprosy. 

"  "  Nicldah,    on    female    levitical    impurity 

{menstruri). 

"  "  Oholoth.  on   tlie  delilement  of  tents  and 

houses,  si)ecially  by  death. 

"  "  Orlah,  on  the  ordinances   connected  with 

Lev.  xix.  23. 

"  "  Parnh.  on  the  Red  Heifer  and  purificatiou 

by  its  ashes. 
"  "  Peak,  on  the  corner  to  be  left  for  the  poor 

in  harvesting. 
"  "  Pesachiin,  on  the  Paschal  Feast. 


XXX 


LIST   OF  ABBREVIATIONS. 


Pesiqta    .        .  The  Book  I'esiqta.  an  exceediii.i;l.v  interesting  series  of  Meditations 

or  brief  discussions  and  Lectures  on  cer- 
tain portions  of  tiie  Lectionary  for  the 
principal  Sabbaths  and  Feast  Days. 

Firqe  de  B.  Eliez.  The  Haggadic  Pirqe  de  EahhiEUezer,  in  54  cliapters.  a  discursive 

Tractate  on  tlie  History  of  Israel  from 
the  creation  to  the  time  of  Moses,  with 
the  insertion  of  three  chapters  (xlix.-li. ) 
oil  the  history  of  Hainan  and  the  future 
Messianic  deliverance. 

Bosh  haSh.       .  The  Talnuidic  Tractate  Bosh  luiShanah,  on  the  Feast  of  New  Year. 

Sab.  .  .    "  "  "  ZrtM(v«,  on  certain  levitically  defiling  issues. 

Sank.       .  .    "  "  "  (S'«H/<ec?r/«,  on  the  Sanhedrim  and  Criminal 

Jurisprudence. 

tSebdcIi.     .  .    "  "  '•  Zehhacliiiii.  on  Sacrifices. 

S/i(d)h.      .  .    "  "  "  Shabbath,  on  Sabbath-observance. 

S/iebh.      .  .    "  "  "    .         (S7ie6//H7/<,  on  the  Sabbatic  Year. 

Shebii.      .  .    "  "  '■  Shebliuoth,  on  Oaths,  &c. 

S/ieqal.     .  .    "  '•  "  .S7/e(7«/^/«,  on  the  Temple-Tribute,  etc. 

>s/iem  B.  .  .  The  Midrash  Shemoth  Babba  on  Exodus. 

Shir  haSh  B.  .    "         "  Shir  haShirim  B(djba.  onXhQ  iio\\g,o'i^o\omo\\. 

Sijihra     .  .    The  ancient  Commentary    on  Leviticus,  dating  from  the  second 

century. 

Siphre      .  .  The  still  somewhat  older  Commentary  on  Numb,  and  Deuter. 

Sot.  .  .  The  Talniudic  Tractate  Sotah,  on  the  Woman  accused  of  Adultery. 

Snkk.        .  .    "  "  "  6'mA-A-«/<,  on  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles. 

Taan.       .         .    "  "  "  Taanitlt,  on  Fasting  and  Fast-Days. 

Tarn-        .         •    "  "  "  Tamid,  on  the  daily  Service  and  Sacrifice 

in  the  Temple. 

Teb.  Yam.        .    "  "  "  TeMw/ 1'o/m  (■  bathed  of  the  day '),  on  im- 

purities, where  there  is  immersion  on 
the  evening  of  the  same  da\'. 

Tern.        .        .    "  "  "  Tcmurah,  on  substitution  for  things  con- 

secrated (Lev.  xxvii.  10). 

Ter.  .        .    "  "  "  T(9r^^??^o//^  on  the  priestly  dues  in  produce. 

Tohnr.      .         .    "  "  "  Tohnrofh,  on  minor  kinds  of  defilement. 

Tnnch.     .        .  The   Midrashic   Commentary    Tanclnima   (or    Yelmndenv).  on  the 

Pentateuch. 


Ukz. 


.  The  Talmudic  Tractate  Uqtsiit,  on  the  defilement  of  fruits  through 

their  envelopes,  stalks.  iSrc. 


Vdi/jiik.  B.        .  The  Midrash  Vai/ijikra  B(dib(t.  on  Leviticus. 

Yidk.       .        .  The  great  codeciiDte ion:   Ytdkiif  Shimeoni,  which  is  a cre/p^c/ on  the 

whole  Old  Testament,  containing  also 
ipuitations  from  works  lost  to  us.' 


1  It  will,  of  course,  be  understood  that  we 
have  only  given  the  briefest,  and.  Indeed,  im- 
[lerfect,  indications  of  the  contents  of  the 
various  Talmudic  Tractates.  Besides  giving 
the  Laws  connected  with  each  of  the  sub- 


jects of  which  they  treat,  all  kindred  topics 
are  taken  up,  nay,  the  discussion  often  passes 
to  quite  other  than  the  subjects  primarily 
treated  of  in  a  Tractate. 


CONTENTS 


THE      F  I  R  S  1^     A^  0  L  U  M  E 


BOOK   I. 
INTRODUCTORY. 

THE  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL: 
THE  JEWISH  WORLD  IN  THE    DAYS  OF  CHRIST. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGE 

The  Jewish  World  in  the  Days  of  Christ — Tlie  Jewish  Dispersion  iu  the  East    .        3 

CHAPTER  H. 

The  Jewish  Dispersion  in  the  West^ — The  Hellenists — Origin  of  Hellenist  Litera- 
ture in  the  Greek  Translation  of  the  Bible — Character  of  the  Septuagint    .       17 

CHAPTER  HI. 

The  Ohl  Faith  preparing  for  the  New — Development  of  Hellenist  Theology: 

The  Apocrypha,  Aristeas,  Aristobulus,  and  the  Pseudepigraphic  Writings      31 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Philo  of  Alexandria,  the  Rabl)is,  and  the  Gospels — The  Final  Development  of 
Hellenism  in  its  Relation  to  Fxabbinism  and  the  Gospel  according  to  St. 
John 40 

CHAPTER  V. 

Alexandria  and  Rome — The  Jewisli  Comminiities  in  the  Cai)itals  of  Western 

Civilisation 58 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Political  and  Religious  Life  of  the  Jewish  Dispersion  in  the  West — Their  rnit)n 

in  tlie  Great  Hoi)e  of  the  Coming  Deliverer .73 


XXXU  CONTENTS   UP^   THE   FIRST   VOLUME. 

CHAPTEU  VII. 

PAGE 

In  Palestine — Jews  and  Gentiles  in  •  the  Land" — Their  Mutual  Relations  and 

Feelings—-  The  Wall  of  Separation ' -    .    .       84 

CHAPTER  VIH. 

Traditionalism,  its  Origin,  Character,   and  Literature — The  Mishnah  and  Tal- 
mud— The  Gospel  of  Christ — The  Dawn  of  a  New  Day       .        .        .         .       9S 


BOOK   II. 

FROM  THE  MANGER  m   BETHLEHEM  TO  THE 
BAPTISM  IN  JORDAN. 


CHAPTER  L 
In  Jerusalem  when  Herod  reigned  .         .         .        .         .        .        .        .111 

CHAPTER  11. 
The  Personal  History  of  Herod — The  Two  Worlds  in  Jerusalem         .        .        .     121 

CHAPTER  III. 
The  Annunciation  of  St.  John  the  Baptist ,        .     13S 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Annunciation  of  Jesus  the  Messiah,  and  the  Birch  of  His  Forerunner        .     144 

CHAPTER  V. 
Wliat  Messiah  did  the  Jews  expect  ? 160 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  Nativity  of  Jesus  the  Messiah 180 

CHAPTER    VII. 
The  Purification  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Presentation  in  the  Temple  .        .     191 

CHAPTER  VIH. 
The  Visit  and  Homage  of  the  Magi,  and  the  Flight  into  Egypt         .         .        .     202 

CHAPTER  IX. 
The  Child-Life  in  Nazareth 217 

CHAPTER    X. 

In  the  House  of  His  Heavenly,  and  in  the  Home  of  His  Earthly  Father — The 

Temple  of  Jerusalem — The  Retirement  at  Nazareth  ....     235 


CONTENTS   OF   THE    FIRST   VOLUME.  XXXlll 

CHAPTER   XI. 

PAGE 

In  the  Fifteenth  Year  of  Tiberius  Caesar  and  under  the  Pontificate  of  Annas 

and  Caiaphas — A  Voice  in  the  Wilderness 255 

CHAPTER   XII. 
The  Baptism  of  Jesus:  Its  Higher  Meaning 275 


BOOK  III. 
THE    ASCENT: 

FROM   THE    RIVER   JORDAN    TO   THE   MOUNT   OF 
TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  Temptation  of  Jesus 291 

CHAPTER   II. 

The  Deputation  from  Jerusalem — The  Three  Sects  of  the  Pharisees,  Sadducees, 

and  Essenes — Examination  of  their  distinctive  Doctrines  .         .         .     308 

CHAPTER   HI. 

The  Twofold  Testimony  of  John — The   First  Sabbath   of  Jesus's  Ministry — 
The  First  Sunday  -The  First  Disciples 336 

CHAPTER   IV. 

The  Marriage-Feast  in  Cana  of  Galilee — The  Miracle  that  is  '  a  Sign '       .         .     351 

CHAPTER   V. 
The  Cleansing  of  the  Temple — '  The  Sign  '  which  is  not  a  Sign         .         .         .     364 

CHAPTER   VI. 

The  Teacher  come  from  God  and  the  Teacher  from   Jerusalem — Jesus   and 

Nlcodemus 377 

CHAPTER   VII. 

In  Judaja  and  through  Samaria — A  Sketch  of  Samaritan  History  and  Theology 
— Jews  and  Samaritans .     390 

CHAPTER   Vm. 
Jesus  at  the  Well  of  Sychar       .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .404 


XXXIV  CONTENTS   OF   THE    FIRST    VOLUME. 

CHAPTER   IX. 

PAGE 

The  Second  Visit  to  Cana — Cure  of  the  '  Nobleman's '  Son  at  Capernaum         .     422 

CHAPTER   X. 

The  Synagogue  at  Nazareth — Synagogue-Worship  and  Arrangements       .        .    430 

CHAPTER   XI. 
The  First  Galilean  Ministry 451 

CHAPTER   XH. 

At  the  •  Unknown '  Feast  in  Jerusalem,  and  by  tlie  Pool  of  Bethesda        .        .     460 

CHAPTER   Xm. 

By  the  Sea  of  Galilee — The  final  Call  of  the  First  Disciples,  and  the  Miraculous 

Draught  of  Fishes 472 

CHAPTER   XIV. 
A  Sabbath  in  Capernaum 478 

CHAPTER   XV. 

Second  Journey  through  Galilee — The  Healing  of  the  Leper    ....     489 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

The  Return  to  Capernaum — Concerning  the  Forgiveness  of  Sins^The  Healing 
of  the  Paralysed 499 

CHAPTER   XVII. 

The  Call  of  Matthew — The  Saviour's  Welcome  to  Sinners — Rabbinic  Theology 
as  regards  the  Doctrine  of  Forgiveness  in  contrast  to  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
—The  call  of  the  Twelve  Apostles 507 

CHAPTER   XVIII. 

The  Sermon  on  the  Mount — The  Kingdom  of  Christ  and  Rabbinic  Teaching     .     524 

CHAPTER   XIX. 

The  Return  to  Capernaum — Healing  of  the  Centurion's  Servant       .         .         .     542 

CHAPTER  XX. 
The  Raising  of  the  Young  Man  of  Nain — The  Meeting  of  Life  and  Death         .     552 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
The  Woman  which  was  a  Sinner 561 


CONTENTS   OF   THE   FIRST  VOLUME.  XXXV 

CHAPTER  XXn. 

PAGE 

The  Ministry  of  Love,  the  Blasphemy  of  Hatred,  and  the  Mistakes  of  Earthly 
Affection — The  Return  to  Capernaum — Healing  of  the  Demonised  Dumb 
— Pharisaic  Charge  against  Clu-ist — The  Visit  of  Christ's  Mother  and 
Brethren 570 

CHAPTER  XXra. 

New  Teaching  '  in  Parables ' — The   Parables  to   the  People   by  the   Lake  of 

Galilee,  and  those  to  the  Disciples  in  Capernaum       .  '      .         .         .        .     578 

CHAPTER   XXIV. 

Christ  Stills  the  Storm  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee 599 

CHAPTER  XXV. 
At  Gerasa — The  Healing  of  the  Demonised 606 

CHAPTER  XXVL 

The  Healing  of  the  Woman — Christ's  Personal  Appearance — The  Raising  of 

Jairus'  Daughter 616 

CHAPTER  XXVII. 

Second  Visit  to  Nazareth — The  Mission  of  the  Twelve 635 

CHAPTER   XXVni. 

The   Story  of  John   the  Baptist,   from  his  Last  Testimony  to  Jesus  to  his 

Beheading  in  Prison ,         .         .         .     654 

CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Miraculous  Feeding  of  the  Five  Thousand 676 

CHAPTER  XXX. 
The  Night  of  Miracles  on  the  Lake  of  Gennesaret.     ......     686 


BooJi  I. 

IN  TROD  ITCTOR  Y. 

THE  PREPARATION   FOR  THE   GOSPEL: 
THE  JEWISH   WORLD   IX   THE   DAYS   OF   OHRIST. 


All  the  prophets  prophesied  not  but  of  the  daj's  of  the  Messiah.' — Sanh.  99  a. 
'  The  work!  was  not  created  but  only  for  the  Messiah.' — Sanh.  98  h. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   JEWISH    WORLD    IN    THE    DAYS    OF    CHRIST — THE   JEWISH 
DISPERSION    IN    THE    EAST. 

Among  the  outward  means  by  which  the  religion  of  Israel  was  pre- 
served, one  of  the  most  important  w^s  thecentralisation  and  localisa- 
tion  of  its  worship  in  Jerusalem.  If  to  some  the  ordinances  of  the 
Old  Testament  may  in  this  respect  seem  narrow  and  exclusive,  it  is 
at  least  doubtful,  whether  without  such  a  provision  Monotheism  itself 
could  have  continued  as  a  creed  or  a  worship.  In  view  of  the  state 
of  the  ancient  world,  and  of  the  tendencies  of  Israel  during  the 
earlier  stages  of  their  history,  the  strictest  isolation  was  necessary  in 
order  to  preserve  tlie  religion  of  the  Old  Testament  from  tliat  mixture 
with  foreign  elements  which  would  speedily  have  proved  fatal  to  its 
existence.  And  if  one  source  of  that  danger  had  ceased  after  the 
seventy  years'  exile  in  Babylonia,  the  dispersion  of  the  greater  part 
of  the  nation  among  those  whose  manners  and  civilisation  would 
necessarily  influence  them,  rendered  the  continuance  of  this  separa- 
tion of  as  great  importance  as  before.  In  this  r('S})e('t,  even  tradi- 
tionalism had  its  mission  and  use,  as  a  hedge  around  the  Law  to 
render  its  infringement  or  modification  impossible.  q 

Wherever  a  Roman,   a  Greek,  or  an  Asiatic  might  wander,  he   ^  \  /--«^u 
could  take  his  gods  with  him,  or  find  rites  kindred  to  his  own.  (^^^"^-^-iJ 
It  was  far  otherwise  with  the  Jew.     He^  had  only  one  Tcm])lo,  that  ^  ^  ^^ 
in  Jerusalem;    only  one  God,    Him  Who  had  once    throned  there  ^/    ^^-<^ 
between  the  Cherulnm,  and  Wlio  was  still  King  over  Zion.     'I'liat 
Temple  was  the  only  place  where  a   God-appointed.  ])ui-('  pricstliood 
could  offer  acceptable  sacrifices,  whether  for  forgiveness  of  sin,  or.lbr 
fellowship  with  God.     Here,  in  the  impenetrable  gloom  of  the  inner- 
most sanctuary,  whic^h  the  High-Priest  alone  might  enter  once  a  year 
for  most  solemn  expiation,  had  stood  the  Ark,  the  leader  of  the  people 
into  the  Land  of  Promise,  and  the  footstool  on  which  the  Sliechinah 
had  rested.     From  that  golden  altar  rose  the  sweet  cloud  of  incense, 
symbol  of  Israel's  a<?cepted  prayers;  that  seven-branched  candlestick 


THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK     shed  its  perpetual  light,  indicative  of  the  brightness  of  God's  Covenant- 
I  Presence;  on  that  table,  as  it  were  before  the  face  of  Jehovah,  was 

^■^v — '  laid,  week  by  week,  *  the  Bread  of  the  Face,' '  a  constant  sacrificial 
meal  which  Israel  oflercd  unto  God,  and  wherewith  God  in  turn  fed 
His  chosen  priesthood.  On  the  great  l)lood-sprinkled  altar  of  sacrifice 
smoked  the  daily  and  festive  ))urnt-offerings,  brought  by  all  Israel, 
and  for  all  Israel,  wherever  scattered;  while  the  vast  courts  of  the 
Temple  were  thronged  not  only  by  native  Palestinians,  but  literally 
by  '  Jews  out  of  every  nation  under  heaven. '  Around  this  Temple 
gathered  the  sacred  memories  of  the  past;  to  it  clung  the  yet 
brighter  hopes  of  the  future.  The  history  of  Israel  and  all  their 
prospects  were  intertwined  with  their  religion;  so  that  it  may  be 
said  that  without  their  religion  they  had  no  history,  and  without  their 
history  no  religion.  Thus,  history,  patriotism,  religion,  and  hope 
alike  pointed  to  Jerusalem  antl  the  Temple  as  the  centre  of  Israel's 
unity. 

N'or  could  the  depressed  state  of  the  nation  alter  their  views  or 
shake  their  confidence.  What  mattered  it,  tliat  the  Idumasan,  Herod, 
had  usurped  the  throne  of  David,  except  so  far  as  his  own  guilt  and 
their  present  subjection  were  concerned?  Israel  had  passed  througli 
deeper  waters,  and  stood  triumphant  on  the  other  shore.  For 
centuries  seemingly  hopeless  bondsmen  in  Egypt,  they  had  not  only 
been  delivered,  but  had  raised  the  God-inspired  morning-song  of 
jubilee,  as  they  looked  back  upon  the  sea  cleft  for  them,  and  which 
had  l)uried  their  oppressors  in  their  might  and  pride.  Again,  for 
weary  years  had  their  captives  hung  Zion's  harps  by  the  rivers  of 
that  city  and  empire  whose  colossal  grandeur,  wherever  they  turned, 
must  have  carried  to  the  scattered  strangers  the  desolate  feeling  of 
utter  hopelessness.  And  yet  that  empire  had  crumbled  into  dust, 
while  Israel  had  again  taken  root  and  sprung  up.  And  now  little 
more  than  a  century  and  a  half  had  passed,  since  a  danger  greater 
even  than  any  of  these  had  threatened  the  faith  and  the  very  existence 
of  Israel.  In  his  daring  madness,  the  Syrian  king,  Antiochus  lY. 
(Epiphanes)  had  forbidden  their  religion,  sought  to  destroy  their 
sacred  books,  with  unsparing  ferocity  forced  on  them  conformity  to 
heathen  rites,  desecrated  the  Temi)le  by  dedicating  it  to  ZeusOlympios, 
and  even  reared  a  heathen  altar  upon  that  of  burnt-oflfering. '^  Worst 
of  all,  his  wicked  scheme§  had  lieen  aided  by  two  apostate  High- 
Priests,  wlio  had  outvied  each  other  in  buying  and  then  prostituting 

1  Such  is  the  literal  meaiiiiia;  of  what  is  translated  by  'shewbread.' 
^  1  Mace.  i.  54,  59 ;  Jos.  Ant.  xii.  5.  4. 


THE   JEWISH   DISPERSION. 

the  sacred  oflBce  of  God's  anointed,^  Yet  far  away  in  the  mountains 
of  Ephraim^  God  had  raised  for  them  most  unlooked-for  and  unlikely 
help.  Only  three  years  later,  and,  after  a  series  of  brilliant  vietories 
by  undisciplined  men  over  the  flower  of  the  Syrian  army,  Judas  the 
Maccabee — truly  God's  Hammer^ — had  purified  the  Temple,  and 
restored  its  altar  on  the  very  same  day  *  on  which  the  '  abomination 
of  desolation  '  ^  had  been  set  up  in  its  place.  In  all  their  history  the 
darkest  hour  of  their  night  had  ever  preceded  the  dawn  of  a  morning 
])righter  than  any  that  had  yet  broken.  It  was  thus  that  with  one 
voice  all  their  prophets  had  bidden  them  wait  and  hope.  Their 
sayings  had  been  more  than  fulfilled  as  regarded  the  past.  Would 
they  not  equally  become  true  in  reference  to  that  far  more  glorious 
future  for  Zion  and  for  Israel,  which  was  to  be  ushered  in  by  the 
coming  of  the  Messiah  ? 

Nor  were  such  the  feelings  of  the  Palestinian  Jews  only.  These 
indeed  were  now  a  minority.  The  majoritv  of  the  nation  constituted 
what  was  known  as  the  dispersion;  a  term  which,  however,  no  longer 
expressed  its  original  meaning  of  banishment  by  the  judgment  of 
God,**  since  absence  from  Palestine  was  now  entirely  voluntary.  But 
all  the  more  that  it  referred  not  to  outward  sufiering,''  did  its  continued 
use  indicate  a  deep  feeling  of  religious  sorrow,  of  social  isolation,  and  of 
p( )lit  i(';i I  strangership  •*  in  the  midst  of  a  heathen  world.  For  although, 
as  Josephus  reminded  his  countrymen,''  there  was  'no  nation  in  the 
world  which  had  not  among  them  part  of  the  Jewish  people, '  since  it 
was  *  widely  dispersed  over  all  the  world  among  its  inhabitants, ' ''  yet 
they  had  nowhere  found  a  real  home.     A  century  and  a  half  befor 


.5- J 

CHAP.^O-?J 
I 


"  Jew.  W 
ii.  16.  4 


b  vii.  3.  3 


'  After  the  deposition  of  Onias  III. 
tlirouf^h  tlie  bribery  of  his  own  brother 
Jason,  the  latter  and  Menelaus  outvied 
each  otlier  in  bribery  for,  and  prostitu- 
tion of,  the  holy  office. 

'^  Modin,  the  birthplace  of  the  Macca- 
bees, has  been  identified  with  the  modern 
El-Medyeh,  about  sixteen  miles  north- 
west of  Jerusalem,  in  the  ancient  terri- 
tory of  Ephraim.  Comp.  Conder's  Hand- 
liook  of  the  Bible,  p.  291;  and  for  a  full 
reference  to  the  whole  literature  of  the 
subject,  see  Schurer  (Neutest.  Zeitgescli. 
p.  78,  note  1). 

^  On  the  meaning  of  the  name  Macca- 
bee, comp.  Grimm's  Kurzgef.  E.xeget. 
Handb.  z.  d.  Apokr.  Lief,  iii.,  i)p.  ix.  x. 
We  adopt  the  derivation  from  Maqqabha, 
a  hammer,  like  Charles  MarteJ. 

*  1  Mace.  iv.  .52-54 ;  Megill.  Taan.  23. 

^  1  Mace.  1.  54. 


®  Alike  the  verb  ;^'i">,  in  Hebrew,  an 
dtaaTtsipco  in  Greek,*  with  their  deriv- 
atives, are  used  in  the  Old  Testament, 
and  in  the  rendering  of  the  LXX.,  with 
reference  to  punitive  banishment.  See, 
for  example,  Judg.  xviii.  30;  1  Sam.  iv. 
21;  and  in  the  LXX.  Deut.  xxx.  4;  Ps. 
cxlvii.  2 ;  Is.  xlix.  6,  and  other  i)assages. 

'  There  is  some  truth,  although  greatly 
exaggerated,  in  the  bitter  remarks  of 
Hausrath  (Neutest.  Zeitgesch.  ii.  p.  93), 
as  to  the  sensitiveness  of  the  Jews  ia 
the  dtacTTCopd,  and  the  loud  outcry  of 
all  its  members  at  any  interference  with 
them,  however  trivial.  But  events 
unfortunately  too  often  ]iroved  how 
real  and  near  was  their  danger,  and 
how  necessary  the  caution  '  Obsta  prin- 
cipiis.'  _, 

8  St.  Peter  seems  to  have  used  it  in 
that  sense,  1  Pet.  i.  1.  / 


THE   PREPARATION    FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


ROOK 
I 


our  era  comes  to  us  from  Egypt^ — where  the  Jews  possessed  exceptional 
privileges — professedly  from  the  heathen,  but  really  from  the  Jewish^ 
Sibyl,  this  lament  of  Israel: — 


Crowding  with  thy  uuiubers  every  ocean  and  country — 
Yet  an  ofl'ense  to  all  around  thy  presence  and  customs  ! 


:) 


;^V 


</ 


0'^ 


r 


Sixty  years  later  the  Greek  geographer  and  historian  Strabo  bears 
the  like  witness  to  their  presence  in  every  land,  but  in  language  that 
shows  how  true  had  been  the  complaint  of  the  Sibyl.*  The  reasons 
for  this  state  of  feeling  will  by-and-by  appear.  Suffice  it  for  the 
present  that,  all  unconsciously,  ^hilo  tells  its  deepest  ground,  and 
that  of  Israel's  loneliness  in  the  heathen  world,  when  speaking,  like 
the  others,  of  his  countrymen  as  in  ^  all  the  cities  of  Europe^  in  t^he 
provinces  of  Asia  and  in  the  isliuids.'  he  describes  them  as,  wlicrever 
sojourning,  having  but  one  metropolis — not  Alexandria,  Antioch,  or 


Rome — but 
High  God. '^ 


the  Holy  City  with  its  Temple,  dedicated  to  the  Most. 


A  nation,  the  vast  majority  of  which  was  dispersed  over 
the  whole  inhabited  earth,  had  ceased  to  be  a  special,  and  become  a 
world-nation.**  Yet  its  heart  beat  in  Jerusalem,  and  thence  the  life- 
blood  passed  to  its  most  distant  members.  And  this,  indeed,  if  we 
rightly  understand  it,  was  the  grand  object  of  the  '  Jewish  dispersion ' 
throughout  the  world. 

What  has  been  said  applies,  perhaps,  in  a  special  manner,  to  the 
Western,  rather  than  to  the  Eastern  '  dispersion.'  The  connection  of 
the  latter  with  Palestine  was  so  close  as  almost  to  seem  one  of  con- 
tinuity. In  the  account  of  the  truly  representative  gathering  in 
Jerusalem  on  that  ever-memorable  Feast  of  Weeks, ^  the  division  of 
the  '  dispersion "  into  two  grand  sections — the  Eastern  or  Trans- 
Euphratic,  and  the  Western  or  Hellenist — seems  clearly  marked.'  In 
this  arrangement  the  former  would  include  '  the  Parthians,  Modes, 
Elamites,  and  dwellers  in  Mesopotamia, '  Judaea  standing,  so  to  speak, 
in  the  middle,  while  '  the  Bretes  and  Arabians '  would  typically  re- 
present the  farthest  outrunners  respectively  of  the  Western  and  the 
Eastern  Diaspora.     The  former,  as  we  know  from  the  New  Testament, 


1  Comp.  the  remarks  of  Schneckenbur- 
ger  (Vorles  ii.  Neutest.  Zeitg.  p.  95). 

'^  Coiiip.  Friedlieb,  D.  Sibyll.  Weissag. 
xxii.  39. 

»  Orac  Sibyll.  iii.  271,  272,  apud  Fried- 
lieb,  

bo  apud  Jos.  Ant.  xiv.  7.  2 :  'If 
'is  not  easy  to  find  a  place  in  the  world 
that  has  not  admitted  this  race,  and  is  , 
mastered  by  it.'  . —       .-^ 


^  Philo  in  Flaccum  (ed.  Francf.),  p.  971. 

^  Comp.  Jos.  Ant.  xii.  3;  xiii.  10.  4; 
13.  1;  xiv.  6.  2;  8.  1;  10.  8;  Sueton. 
Cses.  85. 

'  Grimm  (Clavis  N.  T.  p.  113)  quotes 
two  passages  from  Philo,  in  one  of  which 
he  contradistinguishes  '  us,'  the  Hellenist 
Jews,  from  '  the  Hebrews,'  and  speaks  of 
the  Greek  as  'our  language.' 


'HELLENISTS'   AND    'HEBREWS.'  7 

commonly  bore  in  Palestine  the   name  of  the    '  dispersion   of  the     chap. 
Greeks,' "  and  of  '  Hellenists  '  or  '  Grecians.' "     On  the  other  han<l,  the  I 

Trans-Euphratic  Jews,  who  '  inhal^ited  Babylon  and  many  of  the  othei-  ^ — ^^^ — 
satrapies, ' "  were  included  with  the  Palestinians  and  the  Syrians  under  !^fj*-3g'^''^" 
the  term  '  Hebrews,'  from  the  connnon  language  which  tliey  spoke.      '^Actsvi.  i; 

•  •  ix  ^^9  *  xi  20 

But  the  difference  between  the  '  Grecians  '  and  the  '  Hebrews  '  was     „".,'    " 

"  Philo  ad 

far  deeper  than  merely  of  language,    and  extended  to  the  whole  ^o^jj"™^/- 
direction  of  thought.     There  were  mental  influences  at  work  in  the  Aut.  xv.  3.  i 
Greek  world  from  which,  in  the  nature  of  things,  it  was  impossible       •    y 
even  for  Jews  to  withdraw  themselves,  and  which,  indeed,  were  as  J/-*^^^^*^^-*^-^-^ 
necessary  for  the  fulfilment  of  their  mission  as  their  isolation  from  IUXiZ^^iJL,t.,^ 
heathenism,   and   their   connection  with  Jerusalem.     At   the  same 
time  it  was  only  natural  that  the  Hellenists,  placed  as  they  were  ^'^*'*'^^*-'*'**-^ 
in  the  midst  of  such  hostile  elements,  sh(nild  intensely  wish  to  be  l^'X^ 
Jews,  equal  to  their  Eastern  brethren.     On  the  other  hand,  Pharisaism,    <^-— «^<- 
in  its  pride  of  legal  purity  and  of  the  possession  of  traditional  lore,    /^jj-Aji-co-)   f 
with  all  that  it  involved,   made  no  secret  of  its  contempt  for  the    do-^oU- 
Hellenists,  and  openly  declared  the  Grecian  far  inferior  to  the  Baby- 
lonian '  dispersion, '  ^     That  such  feelings,  and  the  suspicions  which 
they  engendered,  had  struck  deep  into  the  popular  mind,   appears 
from  the  fact,  that  even  in  the  Apostolic  Church,  and  that  in  her 
earliest  days,  disputes  could  break  out  between  the  Hellenists  and 
the  Hebrews,  arising  from  suspicion  of  unkind  and  unfair  dealings 
grounded  on  these  sectional  prejudices.'^  'lActsvi.  i 

Far  other  was  the  estimate  in  which  the  Babylonians  were  held 
by  the  leaders  of  Judaism.  Indeed,  according  to  one  view  of  it. 
Babylonia,  as  well  as  '  Syria  '  as  far  north  as  Antioch,  was  regarded  as 
forming  part  of  the  land  of  Israel.'  Every  other  country  was  con- 
sidered outside  'the  land,'  as  Palestine  was  called,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  Bal)ylonia,  which  was  reckoned  as  part  of  it.'  For  S^^ria  and  "Emb.  21a 
Mesopotamia,  eastwards  to  the  banks  of  the  Tigris,  were  supposed 
to  have  been  in  the  territory  whicli  King  David' had  conquered,  and 
tliis  made  them  ideally  for  ever  like  the  land  of  Israel.  But  it  was 
just  between  the  Euphrates  and  the  Tigris  that  the  largest  and 
wealthiest  settlements  of  the  Jews  were,  to  such  extent  that  a 
later  writer  actually  designated  them  <  the  land  of  Israel.'  Here 
Nehardaa,  on  the  Nahar  MalJca,  or  royal  canal,  which  passed  from  the 

1  Similarly  we  have   (in   Men.    110^/)  ends  of  the  earth '—these  are  the  exiles 

this  curious  explanation  of  Is.   xliii.  6:  in  other  lauds,   whose    minds  were  not 

'  My  sons  from  afar  '—these  are  the  exiles  settled,  like  women, 
in  Babylon,  whose  minds  were  settled,  -  Ber.  R.  17. 

like  men,   '  and  my  daughters  from  the 


THE  PREPAEATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 


BOOK  Euphrates  to  the  Tigris,  was  the  oldest  Jewish  settlement.  It  l)oasted 
I  of  a  Synag'ogue,  said  to  have  been  built  ])y  King  Jechoniah  with 
— ~-r — -•  stones  that  liad  been  brought  from  the  Temple.'  In  this  fortified  city 
the  vast  contributions  intended  for  the  Temple  were  deposited  by  the 
Eastern  Jews,  and  thence  conveyed  to  their  destination  under  escort 
of  tliousands  of  armed  men.  Another  of  these  Jewish  treasure-cities 
was  Nisibis,  in  northern  Mesopotamia,  Even  the  fact  that  wealth, 
which  must  have  sorely  tempted  the  cupidity  of  the  heathen,  could  be 
safely  stored  in  these  cities  and  transported  to  Palestine,  shows  how 
large  the  Jewish  population  must  have  been,  and  how  great  their 
general  influence. 

In  general,  it  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to  remember  in  regard 
to  this  Eastern  dispersion,  tliat  only  a  minoritv  of  the  Jcws^onsistinu- 
in  all  of  aljout  50.000,  originallv  returned  from  Babylon,  first  under 
ZorubbaJjel  and  afterwards  under  Ezra."  Xor  was  their  inferiority 
)iifin('d  to  numbers.  The  wealthiest  and  most  influential  of  the  Jews 
remained  behind.  According  to  Josephus,''  with  whom  Philo  sub- 
stantiallv  agrees,  vast^numbers,  estimated  at  millions,  inhabited  the 
Trans-Eu])hratic  i)rovinces.  To  judge  even  by  the  number  of  those 
slain  in  popular  risings  (50,000  in  Seleucia  alone'^),  these  figures  do 
not  seem  greatly  exaggerated.  A  later  tradition  had  it,  that  so  dense 
was  the  Jewish  population  in  the  Persian  Empire,  that  Cyrus  forbade 
the  further  return  of  the  exiles,  lest  the  country  should  be  depopulated.^ 
So  large  and  compact  a  body  soon  became  a  political  power.  Kindly 
treated  under  the  Persian  monarchy,  they  were,  after  the  fall  of  that 
empire,''  favoured  by  the  successors  of  Alexander,  When  in  turn  the 
Macedono-Syrian  rule  gave  place  to  the  Parthian  Empire, '^  the  Jews 
formed,  from  their  national  opposition  to  Rome,  an  important  element 
in  the  East.  Such  was  their  influence  that,  as  late  as  the  year  40  a.d.  , 
the  Roman  legate  shrank  from  provoking  their  hostility.*  At  the 
same  time  it  must  not  be  thought  that,  even  in  these  favoured  regions, 
they  were  wholly  witliout  persecution.  Here  also  history  records 
more  than  one  tale  of  bloody  strife  on  the  part  of  those  among  whom 
they  dwelt. ^ 

To  the  Palestinians,  their  brethren  of  the  East  and  of  Syria — to 
which  they  had  wandered  under  the  fostering  rule  of  the  Macedono- 


1  Comp.  Fiirsf,  Kult.  u.  Literaturgesch. 
d.  Jud.  in  Asien,  vol.  i.  p.  S. 

^  Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  9.  9. 

3  Midrash  on  Cant.  v.  5,  ed.  Warsh.  p. 
26  a. 

*  P/H7oadCaj. 


^  The  following  are  the  chief  passages 
in  Josephus  relating  to  that  part  of  Jewish 
history:  Ant.  xi.  5.  2;  xiv.  13.  5;  xv.  2.  7; 
3.  1;  xvii.  2.  1-3;  xviii.  9.  1,  &c. ;  xx.  4. 
Jew.  W.  i.  13.  3. 


H^  i^ 


PRE-EMINENCE   OF   THE    BABYLONIANS.  9 

Syrian  monarchs    (the   Scloiicidae) — were   indeed   pre-eminently  the     CHAP. 
Golah,  or    'dispersion.'     To   them  the  Sanhech'in  in  Jerusalem  in-  I 

timated  by  tire-signals  from  mountain-top  to  mountain-top  the  com-  ^^ — . — 
mencement  of  eacii  month  for  the  regulation  of  the  festive  calendar,' 
even  as  they  afterwards  despatched  messengers  into  Syria  for  the 
same  purpose.^     In  some  respects  the  Eastern  dispersion  was  placed 
on  the  same  footing;  in  others,  on  even  a  higher  level  than  the  mother- 
country.    Tithes  and  Terumot/i,  or  firet-fruits  in  n  prepared  condition,*  p     -^^ 
were  due  from  them,  while  the  Blkkurim,  or  tirst-fruits  in  a  fresh  state, 
were  to  be  brought  from  Syria  to  Jerusalem.     Unlike  the  heathen  CLoUZ^^  Q. 
countries,  whose  very  dust  defiled,  the  soil  of  Syria  was  declared  clean, 
like  that  of  Palestine  itself''     So  far  as  purity  of  descent  was  con-  ''Oiioi.^ 
cerned,  the  Babylonians,  indeed,  considered  themselves  superior  to 
tlieir  Palestinian  brethren.     They  had  it,  that  when  Ezra  took  with 
him  those  who  went  to  Palestine,  he  had  left  the  land  behind  him  as 
l)ure  as  fine  Hour.''     To  express  it  in  their  own  fashion:    In  regard  to  bKuui.  69  6 
the  genealogical  purity  of  their  Jewish  inhabitants,  all  other  countries 
were,   compared. to  Palestine,   like  dough  mixed  with   leaven;   but 
Palestine  itself  was  such  by  the  side  of  Babylonia.*     It  was  even 
maintained,  that  the  exact  boundaries  could  be  traced  in  a  district, 
within  which  the  Jewish  population  had  preserved  itself  unmixed. 
Great  merit  was  in  this  respect  also  ascribed  to  Ezra.     In  the  usual 
mode  of  exaggeration,  it  was  asserted,  that,  if  all  the  genealogical 
studies  and  researches^   had  been  put  together,   they  would  have 
amounted  to  many  hundred  camel-loads.     There  was  for  it,  however,  at 
least  this  foundation  in  truth,  that  great  care  and  labour  were  bestowed 
on  preserving  full  and  accurate  records  so  as  to  establish  purity  of 
descent.     What  importance  attached  to  it,  w^e  know  from  the  action  ■ 
of  Ezra*"  in  that  respect,  and  from  the  stress  which  Josephus  lays  on  -^chs.  ix.  x. 
this  point.''    Official  records  of  descent  as  regarded  the  priesthood  were  aLifoi. ;  Ag. 
kept  in  the  Temple.     Besides,  the  Jewish  authorities  seem  to  have  . 
possessed  a  general  official  register,  which  Herod  afterwards  ordered  to 
be  burnt,  from  reasons  which  it  is  not  difficult  to  infer.     But  from 
that  day,  laments  a  Rabbi,  the  glory  of  the  Jews  decreased!" 

Nor  was  it  merely  purity  of  descent  of  which  the  Eastern  dis- 
persion could  boast.     In  truth,  Palestine  owed  everything  to  Ezra, 

1  Rosh.    haSh.   ii.  4;    comp.  the  Jer.  ^  As  comments  upon  tlie  genealogies 

Gemara  on  it,  and  in  the  Bab.  Talmud  from  '  Azol '  in  1  Cbr.  viii.  37  to  '  Azel'  iu 

23  b.  ix.  44.     Pes.  62  b. 

■^  Rosh.  haSh.  i.  4.  6  pes.  62  ft;  Sachs,  Beitr.  vol.  ii.  p. 

^  Shev.  vi.  jMSsim ;  Gitt.  8  a.  157. 

*  Cheth.  in  a. 


10 


THE   I'REPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


the  Babylonian.'  a  man  so  di.stiuguislied  that,  according  to  tradition, 
the  Law  would  have  been  given  by  him,  if  Moses  had  not  previously 
obtained  that  honor.  Putting  aside  the  various  traditional  ordi- 
nances which  the  Talmud  ascribes  to  him,^  we  know  from  the  Scrip- 
tures what  his  activity  for  good  had  been.  Altered  circumstances 
had  brought  many  changes  to  the  new  Jewish  State.  Even  the 
language,  spoken  and  written,  was  other  than  formerly.  Instead  of 
the  characters  anciently  employed,  the  exiles  brought  with  them,  on 
their  return,  those  now  common,  the  so-called  square  Hebrew  letters, 
sauh.  216  which  gradually  came  into  general  use.''!  The  language  spoken  by 
the  Jews  was  no  longer  Hebrew,  but  Aramaean,  both  in  Palestine  and 
in  Ba])ylonia ;  *  in  the  former  the  Western,  in  the  latter  the  Eastern 
dialect.  In  fact,  the  common  people  were  ignorant  of  pure  Hebrew, 
which  henceforth  became  the  language  of  students  and  of  the 
Syna'gogue.  Even  there  a  Methurgeman,  or  interpreter,  had  to  be 
employed  to  translate  into  the  vernacular  the  portions  of  Scripture 
read  in  the  public  services,^  and  the  addresses  delivered  by  the  Rabbis. 
This  was  the  origin  of  the  so-called  Targumim,  or  paraphrases  of 
Scripture.  In  earliest  times,  indeed,  it  was  forbidden  to  the  Me- 
thurgeman  to  read  his  translation  or  to  write  down  a  Targum,  lest 


'  According  to  tradition  he  returned  to 
Babylon,  and  died  tliere.  Jo3ephu3  says 
that  he  died  in  Jerusalem  (Ant.  xi.  5.  5). 

2  Herzfeld  has  given  a  very  clear  his- 
torical arrangement  of  the  order  in  which, 
and  the  persons  by  whom,  the  various 
legal  determinations  were  supposed  to 
have  been  given.  See  Gesch.  d.  V.  Isr. 
vol.  iii.  pp.  240  &c. 

^  Although  thus  introduced  under  Ezra, 
the  ancient  Hebrew  characters,  which  re- 
semble the  Samaritan,  only  very  gradu- 
ally gave  way.  They  are  found  ou  monu- 
ments and  coins. 

*  Herzfeld  (u.  s.  vol.  iii.  i).  46)  happily 
designates  the  Palestinian  as  the  Hebrajo- 
Aramaic,  from  its  Hebraistic  tinge.  The 
Hebrew,  as  well  as  the  Aramaean,  belongs 
to  the  Semitic  group  of  languages,  which 
has  thus  been  arranged:  1.  North  Semi- 
tic: Punico-Phoenician.  Hebrew,  and 
Aramaic  (Western  and  Eastern  dialects). 
2.  South  Semitic:  Arabic.  Himyaritic. 
and  Ethiopian.  3.  East  Semitic:  The 
Assyro-Babylonian  cuneiform.  When  we 
speak  of  the  dialect  used  in  Palestine,  we 
do  not,  of  course,  forget  the  great  in- 
fluence of  Syria,  exerted  long  before  and 
after  the  Exile.  Of  these  three  branches 
the  Aramaic  is  the  most  closelv  connected 


with  the  Hebrew.  Hebrew  occupies  an 
intermediate  position  between  the  Ara- 
maic and  tlie  x\rabic,  and  may  be  said  to 
be  the  oldest,  certainly  from  a  literary 
point  of  view.  Together  with  the  intro- 
duction of  the  new  dialect  into  Palestine, 
we  mark  that  of  the  new,  or  square, 
characters  of  writing.  The  Mishnah  and 
all  tlie  kindred  literature  up  to  the  fourth 
century  are  in  Hebrew,  or  rather  in  a 
modern  development  and  adaptation  of 
that  language ;  the  Talmud  is  in  Aramaean. 
Comp.on  this  subject :  Be  Wefte-^chrader, 
Lehrb.d.  hist.  kr.  Einl.  (8  ed.)  i)p.  71-88; 
Herzof/'s  Real-Encykl.  vol.  i.  4f,fi.  468 ;  v. 
614&C.,  710;  Zi^//z,"Gottesd.yortr.  d-  Jud. 
pp.  7-9;  llerzfehJ,  u.  s.  pp.  44  kQ..  38  &c. 
"  Could  St.  pani  have  had  this  in  mind 
when,  in  referring  to  the  miraculous  gift  of 
speaking  in  other  languaijes,  he  directs 
that  one  shall  always  interpret  d  Cor.  xiv. 
27)?  At  any  rate,  the  word  fargtim  in 
Ezra  iv.  7  is  rendered  in  tlie  LXX.  by 
apurtvEVGo.  The  followins  from  the 
Talmud  fBer.  8  a  and  h)  afforils  a  cu- 
rious illustration  of  1  Cor.  xiv.  27:  'Let 
a  man  always  finish  his  Parashah  (the 
daily  lesson  from  the  Law)  with  the 
congregation  (at  the  same  time) — twice 
the  text,  and  once  targum.' 


BABYLONLVN   INFLUENCE   ON   THEOLOGY.  n 

the  paraphrase  should  be  regarded  as  of  equal  authority  with  the     CHAP. 
orig'iual.     It  was  said  that,  when  Jonathan  brought  out  his  Targuui  I 

on  the  Prophets,  a  voice  from  heaveu  was  heard  to  utter:  '  Who  is  ^- — ~r — ' 
this  that  has  revealed  My  secrets  to  men? ' "  Still,  such  Targii-  "Megiii.sa 
mim  seem  to  have  existed  from  a  very  early  period,  and,  amid 
the  varying  and  often  incorrect  renderings,  their  necessity  must 
have  made  itself  increasingly  felt.  Accordingly,  their  use  was 
authoritatively  sanctioned  before  the  end  of  the  second  century  after 
Christ.  This  is  the  origin  of  our  two  oldest  extant  Tarcjinnim: 
that  of  Onkelos  (as  it  is  called),  on  the  Pentateuch;  and  that  on 
the  Proi)hets,  attributed  to  Jonathan  the  son  of  Uzziel.  These  names 
do  not,  indeed,  accurately  represent  the  authorship  of  the  oldest  Tar- 
guniim,  which  may  more  correctly  be  regarded  as  later  and  authorita- 
tive recensions  of  what,  in  some  form,  had  existed  before.  But 
although  these  works  had  tlieir  origin  in  Palestine,  it  is  noteworthy 
that,  in  the  form  in  which  at  present  we  possess  them,  they  are  the 
outcome  of  the  schools  of  Babylon. 

But  Palestine  owed,  if  possible,  a  still  greater  debt  to  Babylonia. 
The  new  circumstances  in  which  the  Jews  were  placed  on  their 
return  seemed  to  render  necessary  an  adaptation  of  the  Mosaic  Law, 
if  not  new  legislation.  Besides,  piety  and  zeal  now  attached  them- 
selves to  the  outward  observance  and  study  of  the  letter  of  the  Law. 
This  is  the  origin  of  the  JlisJinah,  or  Second  Law,  which  was  intended 
to  explain  and  supplement  the  first.  This  constituted  the  only 
Jewish  dogmatics,  in  the  real  sense,  in  the  study  of  which  the  sage, 
Rabbi,  scholar,  scribe,  and  Darshan,^  were  engaged.  The  result  of 
it  was  the  llldrash,  or  investigation,  a  term  which  afterwards  was 
popularly  applied  to  commentaries  on  the  Scriptures  and  preaching. 
From  the  outset,  Jewish  theology  divided  into  two  branches:  the 
HalakJiah  and  the  Haggadah.  Tlrc  former  (from  halakk,  to  go)  was, 
so  to  speak,  the  Rule  of  the  Spiritual  Road,  and,  when  tixed,  had 
even  greater  authority  than  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament, 
since  it  explained  and  applied  them.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Haggadah^  (from  nagad,  to  tell)  was  only  the  personal  saying  of 
the  teacher,  more  or  less  valuable  according  to  his  learning  and 
populnrity,  or  the  authorities  which  he  could  quote  in  his  support. 
Fnlike  the  EaJoMah,  the  Haggadal}  had  no  absolute  authority, 
either  as  to  doctrine  practice,  or  exegesis.     But  all  the  greater  would 

'  From  clavasih.  to  searcli  out,  literally,  =  The  TIalnkhali  miijlit  be  described  as 

to  tread  out.     The  preacher  was  after-      the  apoer>i)hal  Pentateuch,  the  Hagga- 
wards  called  the  Darshan.  dab  as  the  apocryphal  Prophets. 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

be  its  popular  influence,'  and  all  the  more  dangerous  the  doctrinal 
license  which  it  allowed.  In  fact,  strange  as  it  may  sound,  almost 
all  the  doctrinal  teaching  of  the  Synagogue  is  to  be  derived  from  the 
Haggadah — and  this  also  is  characteristic  of  Jewish  traditionalism. 
But,  alike  in  Halakhah  and  Haggadah,  Palestine  was  under  the 
deepest  obligation  to  Babylonia.  For  the  father  of  Halakhic  study 
was  Hillel,  the  Babylonian,  and  among  the  popular  Haggadists  there 
is  not  a  name  better  known  than  that  of  Eleazar  the  Mede,  who 
flourished  in  the  first  century  of  our  era. 

After  this,  it  seems  almost  idle  to  inquire  whether,  during  the 
first  period  after  the  return  of  the  exiles  from  Babylon,  there  were 
regular  theological  academies  in  Babylon.  Although  it  is,  of  course, 
impossible  to  furnish  historical  proof,  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  a 
community  so  large  and  so  intensely  Hebrew  would  not  have  been 
indiftercnt  to  that  study,  which  constituted  the  main  thought  and 
engagement  of  their  brethren  in  Palestine.  We  can  understand  that, 
since  the  great  Sanhedrin  in  Palestine  exercised  supreme  spiritual 
authority,  and  in  that  capacity  ultimately  settled  all  religious 
questions — at  least  for  a  time^the  study  and  discussion  of  these 
subjects  should  also  have  been  chiefly  carried  on  in  the  schools  of 
Palestine;  and  that  even  the  great  Hillel  himself,  when  still  a  poor 
and  unknown  student,  should  have  wandered  thither  to  acquire  the 
learning  and  authority,  which  at  that  period  he  could  not  have  found 
in  his  own  country.  But  even  this  circumstance  implies,  that  such 
studies  were  at  least  carried  on  and  encouraged  in  Babylonia.  How 
rapidly  soon  afterwards  the  authority  of  the  Babylonian  schools 
increased,  till  they  not  only  overshadowed  those  of  Palestine,  but 
finally  inherited  their  prerogatives,  is  well  known.  However,  there- 
fore, the  Palestinians  in  their  pride  or  jealousy  might  sneer,  ^  that  the 
Babylonians  were  stupid,  proud,-  and  poor  ( '  they  ate  bread  upon 
bread  '),^  even  they  had  to  acknowledge  that,  '  when  the  Law  had 
fallen  into  oblivion,  it  was  restored  by  Ezra  of  Babylon;  when  it  was 
a  second  time  forgotten,  Hillel  the  Babylonian  came  and  recovered 
it;  and  when  yet  a  third  time  it  fell  into  oblivion,  Rabbi  Cliija  came 
from  Babylon  and  gave  it  back  once  more. '  * 

1  We  may  here  remind  ourselves  of  1  is  mentioned  as  a  reason  wliy  the  Shekhi- 

Tim.  V.   17.  St.  Paul,  as  always,  writes  nah  could  not  rest  upon  a  certain  Ral)lji. 

with  the  familiar  Jewish   phrases   ever  ■'  Pes.  34  b;  Men.  52  (t;  Sanh.  24  n; 

recurring  to  his  mind.     The  expression  Bets.  16  n — apud  Neiihauer,  Geog.  du 

SiSadKaXia  seems  to  be  equivalent  to  Talmud,    ]).   32.3.     In  Keth.   75  a,  they 

Halakhic  teaching.     Comp.  (/?•»???»,  Cla-  are  styled  the  'silly  Babylonians.'     See 

vis  N.  T.  pp.  98,  99.  also  Jer.  Pes.  32  a. " 

■^  In  Moed  Q.  25  (i.  sojourn  in  Babylon  *  Sukk.   20  a.     R.   Chija,  one  of  the 


JEWISH   WANDERERS   IN   THE   FAR    EA8T. 


13 


CHAP. 
I 


tLX 


Sucli  tlii'ii  was  that  Hebrew  dispersion  which,  t'roiii  tlie  tirst,  eoii- 
stitute(l  really  the  chief  part  and  the  strength  of  the  .Jewish  nation, 
and  with  which  its  religious  future  was  also  to  lie.  For  it  is  one  of 
those  strangely  signiticant,  almost  symbolical,  facts  in  history,  that 
after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem  the  spiritual  sujjremacy  of  Palestine 
passed  to  Babylonia,  and  that  Rabbinical  Judaism,  under  the  stress 
of  political  adversity,  voluntarily  transferred  itself  to  the  seats  of 
Israel's  ancient  disi^ersion,  as  if  to  ratify  by  its  o^^ai  act  what  the 
judgment  of  God  had  formerly  executed.  But  long  before  that  time 
the  Babylonian  '■  dispersion '  had  already  stretched  out  its  hands  in 
every  direction.  Northwards,  it  had  spread  through  Armenia,  the 
Caucasus,  and  to  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea,  and  through  Media  to 
those  of  the  Caspian.  Soutlnvards,  it  had  extended  to  the  Persian  Gulf 
and  through  the  vast  extent  of  Arabia,  although  Arabia  Felix  and  the 
land  of  the  Ilomerites  may  have  received  their  first  Jewish  colonies 
from  the  opposite  shores  of  Ethiopia.  Eastwards  it  had  passed  as  far  ^  .,  . 
as  India.'  Ever3'where  we  have  distinct  notices  of  these  wanderers,  i^u^tA  ^ 
and  everywhere  they  appear  as  in  closest  connection  with  the  Rabbi-  O, 
nical  hierarchy  of  Palestine.  Thus  the  Mishnah,  in  an  extremely 
curious  section, Hells.us  how  on  Sabbaths  the  Jewesses  of  Arabia  might 
wear  their  long  veils,  and  those  of  India  the  kerchief  round  the  head, 
customary  in  those  countries,  without  incurring  the  guilt  of  desecrating 
the  holy  day  by  needlessly  carrying  what,  in  the  eyes  of  the  law,  would  be 
a  burden;-'  while  in  the  rubric  for  the  Day  of  Atonement  we  have  it 
noted  that  the  dress  which  the  High-Priest  wore  '■  between  the  even- 
ings' of  the  great  fast — that  is,  as  afternoon  darkened  into  evening — 
was  of  most  costly  'Indian'  stuflt'.'' 

That  among  such  a  vast  community  there  should  have  been  poverty, 
and  that  at  one  time,  as  the  Palestinians  sneered,  learning  may  have 
been  left  to  pine  in  want,  we  can  readily  believe.  For,  as  one  of  the 
Rabbis  had  it  in  explanation  of  Dent.  xxx.  1.3:  'Wisdom  is  not 
"  beyond  the  sea  " — that  is,  it  will  not  be  found  among  |;raders  or 
merchants,'"  whose  mind  must  be  engrossed  by  gain.     And  it  was 


•'  Shabb. 
vi.  6 


'Yomanl. 


teachers  of  the  second  century,  is  among 
llie  most-celebrated  Rabbinical  authori- 
ties, around  whose  memorj'  legend  has 
thrown  a  special  halo. 

'  In  this,  as  in  so  many  respects.  Dr. 
Nenharier  has  collated  very  interesting 
information,  to  which  we  refer.  See  his 
Geogr.  du  Talm.,  pp.  369-399. 

2  The  whole  section  gives  a  most 
curious  glimpse  of  the  dress  and  orna- 


ments worn  by  the  Jews  at  that  time. 
The  reader  interested  in  the  subject  will 
find  special  information  in  the  tlnee  little 
volumes  of  Ihirtmann  (Die  Heliriierin 
am  Putztische),  in  3".  G.  Sc/ifbder'stiome- 
what  heavy  work:  De  Vestitu  Mulier. 
Hel)r.,  and  especially  in  that  interesting 
tractate,  Trachten  d.  Juden,  ])y  Dr.  A. 
Briin,  of  whicli,  unfortunately,  only  one 
part  has  appeared. 


14  THE    Pliin'AKATION  FOR   THE   GUSPEI.. 

BOOK      trade  and  commerce  which  procured  to  the  13al)yl()iiiaiis  their  wealth 
I  and  influence,  although  agriculture  was  not  neglected.     Their  cara- 

■ — ~. — '  vans — of  whose  camel  drivers,  l)y  the  way,  no  very  flattering  account 
''Kicui.  iv.  is  given" — carried  the  rich  carpets  and  woven  stuff's  of  the  East,  as 
well  as  its  precious  spices,  to  the  West:  generally  through  Palestine 
to  the  Phoenician  harbours,  where  a  fleet  of  merchantmen  belonging 
to  Jewish  bankers  and  shippers  lay  ready  to  convey  them  to  every 
quarter  of  the  world.  These  merchant  i)rinces  were  keenly  alive  to 
all  that  passed,  not  only  in  the  flnancial,  but  in  the  political  world. 
We  know  that  they  were  in  possession  of  State  secrets,  and  entrusted 
with  the  intricacies  of  diplomacy.  Yet,  whatever  its  condition,  this 
Eastern  Jewish  community  was  intensely  Hebi-ew.  Only  eight  days' 
journey — though,  according  to  Philo's  western  ideas  of  it,  by  a  diffi- 
cult road' — separated  them  from  Palestine;  and  every  pulsation  there 
vibrated  in  Babylonia.  It  was  in  the  most  outlying  part  of  that 
colony,  in  the  wide  plains  of  Arabia,  that  Saul  of  Tarsus  spent  those 
three  years  of  silent  thought  and  unknown  labour,  which  preceded  his 
re-appearance  in  Jerusalem,  when  from  the  burning  longing  to  labour 
among  his  brethren,  kindled  by  long  residence  among  these  Hebrews 
of  the  Hebrews,  he  was  directed  to  that  strange  work  which  was  his 
KGai.  i.  17;  Ufe's  missiou."  And  it  was  among  the  same  community  that  Peter 
«ipet.  V.  13  wrote  and  laboured,'^  amidst  discouragements  of  which  we  can  form 
some  conception  from  the  sad  boast  of  Nehardaa,  that  up  to  the  end 
of  the  third  century  it  had  nut  numbered  among  its  members  any 
convert  to  Christianity. - 

In  what  has  been  said,  no  notice  has  been  taken  of  those  wan- 
derers of  the  ten  tribes,  whose  trackless  footsteps  seem  as  mysterious 
as  their  after-fate.  The  Talmudists  name  four  countries  as  their  seats. 
But,  even  if  we  were  to  attach  historic  creilence  to  their  vague  state- 
ments, at  least  two  of  these  localities  cannot  with  any  certainty  be 
identified.^  Only  thus  far  all  agree  as  to  point  us  northwards,  through 
India,  Armenia,  the  Kurdish  mountains,  and  the  Caucasus.  And  with 
this  tallies  a  curious  reference  in  what  is  known  as  IV.  Esdras, 
which  locates  them  in  a  land  called  Arzareth.  a  term  which  has, 
with    some   probability,  l)een   identified  with  the   land  of  Ararat,* 

1  rhilo  ad  Cajuni,  ed.  Frcf.  p.  1023.  For  the  i-easons  there  stated.  I  prefer  tliis 

-  Pes.  56  a,  apud  Xeubauer,  u.  s.,  p.  to  the  inii;eiiious  interpretation  proi)osed 

351.  liy  Dr.  Scliilh'r-Szinessy  (.lourn.  of  Philol. 

3  Comp.  Neiihduer,  jtp.  315,  372  ;  Hum-  for  ls70,  p)).  113.  114),  who  re,2;aTds  it  as 

bur'jp.r,  Real-Enoykl.  ]).  135.  a   contraction   of    Erez   acheretJi,    'an- 

*  Comp.  Vri//,-i)i(ir,  Handl).  d.  Einl.  in  other  land.'  referred  to  in  Deut.  xxix.  27 

d.  Apol<r.  ii"^^  Abth..  pp.  193,  194,  notes.  (28). 


TIIK    'IJ)ST'   TRIBES. 


15 


Josc'phus' describes  tlu'Ui  as  ;i  11  iiiiiimici'able  miiltitiKlc,  and  \a,nii('ly 
locates  them  beyond  the  Eiipliiates.  Tlie  Mishiiali  is  sihuit  as  to 
their  seats,  but  discusses  their  liiture  restorati(Ju;  ilablji  Akiba  deny- 
ing- and  Ilabbi  Eliezer  auticii)atin,iA'  it.''  Another  Jewish  tradition' 
locates  tliem  by  the  t'abk'd  river  Habbatyon,  which  was  sui)})osed  to 
cease  its  tiow  on  tlie  weekly  Sabbath.  This,  of  course,  is  an  implied 
admission  of  ignorance  of  their  seats.  Similarly,  the  Talmud  '  sjjcaks 
of  three  localities  whither  they  had  been  Ijanished  :  the  district 
around  the  river  Sat)batyon;  I)ai)hne,  near  Antioch;  while  the  tliird 
was  overshadowed  and  hidden  by  a  cloud. 

Later  Jewish  notices  connect  the  tinal  discovery  and  the  return 
of  the  Most  tribes"  with  their  conversion  under  that  second  Messiah 
who,  in  contradistinction  to  '  the  Son  of  David '  is  styled  '  the  Son  of 
Joseph,'  to  whom  Jewish  tradition  ascribes  what  it  cannot  reconcile 
with  the  royal  dignity  of  'the  Son  of  David,'  and  which,  if  applied 
to  Ilim,  would  almost  inevitably  lead  up  to  the  most  wide  concessions 
in  the  Christian  argument.*'  As  regards  the  ten  tribes  there  is  this 
truth  underlying  the  strange  hypothesis,  that,  as  their  persistent 
apostacy  from  the  God  of  Israel  and  His  worship  had  cut  them  otf 
from  his  people,  so  the  fultihuent  of  the  Divine  promises  to  them  in 
the  latter  days  would  imj^ly,  as  it  were,  a  second  birth  to  make  them 
once  more  Israel.  Beyond  this  wc  are  travelling  chietly  into  the 
region  of  conjecture.  Modern  investigations  have  pointed  to  the 
Nestorians,^  and  latterly  with  almost  convincing  evidence  (so  far  as 
such  is  possible)  to  the  Afghans,  as  descended  from  the  lost  tribes.* 
Such  mixture  with,  and  lapse  into,  Gentile  nationalities  seems  to  have 
been  before  the  minds  of  those  Rabbis  who  ordered  that,  if  at  present 
a  non-Jew  weds  a  Jewess,  such  a  union  was  to  be  respected,  since 
the  stranger  might  be  a  descendant  of  the  ten  tribes.'  Besides, 
there  is  reason  to  believe  that  part  of  them,  at  least,  had  coalesced 
with  their  brethren  of  the  later  exile;  ^^  while  we  know  that  indi- 
viduals who  had  settled  in  Palestine  and,  presumably,  elsewhere,  Avere 


ClIAI'. 

1 

"Ant.  xi.5. 'J 
■  Sanh.  X.  :i 
Ber.  R.  7:{ 


e  Yebam. 

16  6 


1  R.  Eliezer  seems  to  connect  their 
return  with  the  dawn  of  the  new  Mes- 
sianic day. 

'^  This  is  not  the  place  to  discuss  the 
later  Jewish  fiction  of  a  second  or  '  suf- 
ferins;'  Messiah,  'the  son  of  Joseph,' 
wliose  special  mission  it  would  lie  to 
lirine:  back  the  ten  tribes,  and  to  subject 
them  to  Messiah,  'the  son  of  David,'  but 
who  would  perish  in  the  war  against 
Goa;  and  Maa;o£r. 


^  Comp.  the  work  of  Dr.  Asahel  Grant 
on  the  Nestorians.  His  ariiunients  have 
been  well  summarised  and  exi)andt'(l  iu 
an  interesting  note  in  Mr.  Sii/t's  Sketch 
of  Samaritan  History,  pi).  2-4. 

*  I  would  here  call  special  attention 
to  a;  most  interesting  paper  on  the  sub- 
ject ('A  New  Afghan  Question  '),  by  Mr. 
H.  W.  Bellexr,  'n\  the  •Journal  of  the 
United  Service  Institutidii  of  India,'  for 
1881.  pp.  49-97.  ■'  Kidd.  (59  b. 


16  THE   PREPARATION    FOR   THE   GOrfPEl.. 

able  to  trace  descent  from  them.'  Still  the  great  mass  of  the  teu 
tribes  was  in  the  days  of  Christ,  as  in  our  own,  lost  to  the  Hebrew 
nation. 

1  So  Anna'  from  the  tribe  of  Aser,  St.  ments  are  not  convincing,  and  iiis  opin- 
Luke  ii.  'M\.     Lutterheck  (Neutest.  Lehr-  ion  was  certainly  not  that  of  those  who 
begr.   pp.  102,  103)  argues  that  the  ten  lived  in  the  time  of  Christ,  or  who  re- 
tribes  had  become  wholly  undistinguish-  fleeted  their  ideas, 
able  from  the  other  two.     But  his  argu- 


GREEK   INFLUENCES   ON   THE   HELLENIST   JEWS.  17 


^JuL^u^-^Ul^^^-^^^^^^^^ 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  JEWISH  DISPERSION  IN  THE  WEST — THE  HELLENISTS — ORIGIN  OF 
HELLENIST  LITERATURE  IN  THE  GREEK  TRANSLATION  OF  THE 
BIBLE — CHARACTER    OF    THE    SEPTUAGINT. 

When  wc  turn  from  the  Jewish  '  dispersion  '  in  the  East  to  that  in     CHAP. 

the  West,  we  seem  to  breathe  quite  a  ditiercnt  atmosphere.     Despite         H 

tlicir  intense  nationalism,  all  unconsciously  to  themselves,  their  mental  "^ — "y- — ^ 

characteristics   and   tendencies  were  in  the   opposite  direction  from 

those  of  their  brethren.     With  those  of  the  East  rested  the  future  of 

Judaism;  with  them  of  the  West,  in  a  sense,    that  of  the   world. 

The  one  represented  old  Israel  groping  back  into  the  darkness  of  the 

]mst;  the  other  young   Israel,  stretching  forth   its  hands  to  where 

the  dawn   of  a  new  day  was  a])out  to   break.     These  Jews   of  the 

West  are  known  by  the  term  HeJ1c)il>its — from  eK.Xtfvi8,8iv^  to  conform 

to  the  language  and  manners  of  the  Greeks.  ^ 

Whatever  their  religious  and  social  isolation,  it  was,  in  the  nature 

of  t hings,  impossible  that  the  Jewish  communities  in  the  West  should 

remain  unati'ccted  by  Grecian  cultuje  and  modes  of  thought:  just  as, 

on  the  other  hand,  the   Greek  world.  des})ite  popular   hatred  and  the 

contempt  of  the  higher  classes,\ould  not  wholly  withdraw  itself  from 

Jewish   intluences/.-  Witness  hei'e    the    many    convei'ts    to    .Iinhn'suj 

among  the  (jjentiles ;  -  witness  also  t he  evident  i)reparedness  of  the  lands 

of  this    '  dispersion '  for  the   new  doctrine  which  was  to   conu*   from 

Judaea.     Many  causes  contributed  to  render  the  Jews  of  the  West  ^ 

accessible  to  Greek  intluenccs.     They  had  not  a  long  local   liistory  to  -^^^-'^^^-^    / 

look  ]);i(',k  ii])on.  nor  did  thev  form  a  eoinp;ict  body,  like  tlieii-  liivtluvr    'wTa2U 

in  the  East.     Thev  were  craftsmen,  traders,  merchants,  settled  for  a     a 
-T^ ^^^ ' ^  (5Vl^  ^ 

1  Indeed,   the  word  Ahiisti  (or  Aln-  j  Test.)  on  Acts  vi.  1,  agTeeiiig-  with  Dr. 
nistin) — 'Greek' — actually  occurs,  as  in  j    Roberts,  argue.s  that  the  term  'Hellenist' 
.Ter.  Sot.  21  I),  line  14  from  bottom.  Bold  \    indicated  only  principles,  and  not  birth- 
place, and  that  there  were  Hebrews  and 
Hellenists  in  and  out  of  Palestine.     But 
this  view  is  untenable. 

^  An  account  of  this  proiiaganda  of 
Judaism  and  of  its  results  will  be  given 
in  another  connection. 


(Forsch.  n.  ein.  Volksb.  p.  7)  quotes  Philo  j 
(l^eg.  ad  Caj.  \).  102;?)  in  proof  that  he 
i-egarded  the  Eastern  dispersion  as  a 
branch  separate  from  the  Palestinians. 
But  the  passage  does  not  convey  to  me 
the  inference  whicli  he  draws  from  it. 
Di'.  Guiliemard  (Hebraisms  in  the  (Jreek 


S..>UL 


18 


THE   PREPAKATION    FOl!    THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


\? 


time  hero  or  there — units  which  niigiit  combine  into  communities, 
])ut  could  not  I'oi'iii  one  ))e()))h-.  Then  tlieir  V)Ositi(jn  was  not  favour- 
able to  tlie  sway  of  traditionalisnw/  Their  occupatii  ns,  the  verv 
reasons  for  their  being  in  a  '  strange  land,'  were  purely  secular.  That 
jofty  absorjition  of  thought  and  life  in  the  study  of  the  Law,  writteB^ 
and  oral,  which  characterised  the  East,  was  to  them  something  in  the 
dim  distance,  sacred,  like  the/soi^  and  the  institutions  of  Palestine,  but 
unattainable.  In  Palestine  or  Babylonia  numberless  influences  from 
his  earliest  years,  all  that  he  saw  and  heard,  the  very  force  of  circum- 
stances, would  tend  to  make  an  earnest  Jew  a  disciple  of  the  Rabbis; 
in  the  West  it  vrould  lead  him  to  Miellenise.'  It  was,  so  to  speak, 
'in  the  air';  and  he  could  no  more  shut  his  mind  against  Greek 
thought  than  he  could  withdraw  his  body  from  atmospheric  influences. 
That  restless,  searching,  sul^tle  Greek  intellect  would  penetrate  ever}^- 
where,  and  flash  its  light  into  the  innermost  recesses  of  his  home 
and  Synagogue. 

To  be  sure,  they  were  intensely  Jewish,  these  communities  of 
strangers.  Like  our  scattered  colt)nists  in  distant  lands,  they  would 
cling  with  double  atFection  to  the  customs  of  their  home,  and  invest 
with  the  halo  of  tender  memories  the  sacred  traditions  of  their  faith. 
The  Grecian  Jew  might  well  look  with  contempt,  not  unmingled  with 
pity,  on  the  idolatrous  rites  practised  around,  from  which  long  ago 
the  pitiless  irony  of  Isaiah  had  torn  the  veil  of  beauty,  to  show  the 
hideousness  and  unreality  beneath.  The  dissoluteness  of  public  and 
])i-ivate  life,  the  frivolity  and  aimlessness  of  their  pursuits,  political 
aspirations,  popular  assemblies,  amusements — in  short,  the  utter  decay 
of  society,  in  all  its  phases,  would  lie  open  to  his  gaze.  It  is  in 
terms  of  lofty  scorn,  not  unmingled  with  indignation,  which  only 
occasionally  gives  way  to  the  softer  mood  of  warning,  or  even  invita- 
tion, that  Jewish  Hellenistic  literature,  whether  in  the  Apocrypha  or 
in  its  Apocalyptic  utterances,  addresses  heathenism. 

From  that  spectacle  the  Grecian  Jew  would  turn  Avith  infinite 
satisfaction — not  to  say,  pride — to  his  own  community,  to  think  of 
its  spiritual  enlightenment,  and  to  pass  in  revicAv  its  exclusive 
]mvileges\  It  was  with  no  uncertain  steps  that  he  would  go  past 
those  si)lendid  temples  to  his  own  humbler  Synagogue,  pleased  to  find 
himself  there  surrounded  by  those  who  shared  his  descent,  his  faith, 
his  liopes;  and  gratified  to  see  their  number  swelled  by  many  who, 
heathens  l)y  birth,  had  learned  the  error  of  their  ways,  and  now,  so  to 
speak,  humlily  stood  as  suppliant  'strangers  of  the  gate,' to  seek 
'  St.  Paul  fully  describes  tliese  feelings  in  tlie  Epistle  to  the  Romans. 


CHAP. 

TI 


a  De  Vita 
Mosl8, 
p.  68") ;  Leg. 
ad  Oaj. 
I).  1014 

'■  Leg.  ad 
Caj.  p.  1035 

«  Ag.  Aplon 
li.  17 


THK    IIKLLENIST   SYNAGOqUES:_  ,  19 

uduiit^sit)!!  into  hi.s  sauctuni'j.'  Hoav  ditl'erent  were  the  rites  which  he 
l)ractisc(l,  hallowed  in  their  Divine  origin,  rational  in  themselves,  and 
at  the  same  time  deei)ly  sigiiilicant,,'tn)ni  the  absurd  superstitions 
around.  Who  could  have  c()nii)ared  with  the  voiceless,  meaningless, 
blasphemous  heathen  worshi}),  if  it  deserved  the  name,  that  of  the 
Synagogue,  with  its  i)athetic  hymns,  its  sublime  liturgy,  its  Divine 
Scriptures,  and  tliose  '  stated  sermons  '  which  '  instructed  in  virtue  and 
l)iety,'  of  which  not  only  I'hilo,"  Agri])pa,''  and  Josephns,"  speak  as  a 
regular  institution,  but  whose  antiquity  and  general  prevalence  is 
attested  in  Jewish  writings,^  and  nowiiere  more  strongly  tlian  in  the 
book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles? 

And  in  these  Synagogues,  how"  would  '  l)rotherly  love '  be  called 
out,  since,  if  one  member  suffere<l,  all  might  soon  be  affected,  and  the 
danger  whicli  threatened  one  community  would,  unless  averted,  ere 
long  overwiielin  the  rest.  There  was  little  need  for  the  admonition 
not  to  'forget  the  love  of  strangers.'*  To  entertain  them  was  not 
merely  a  virtue;  in  the  Hellenist  dispersion  it  w^as  a  religious 
necessity.  And  by  such  means  not  a  few  whom  they  would  regard 
as  '  heavenly  messengers  '  might  be  welcomed.  From  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  we  knew  with  what  eagerness  they  would  receive,  and  with 
what  readiness  they  would  invite,  the  passing  Rabbi  or  teacher,  Avho 
came_from  the  home  of  tlieir  faith^  to  speak,  if  there  were  in  them  a 
word  of  comforting  exhortation  for  the  people.'*  We ~caiT scarcely 
douV)t,  considering  the  state  of  things,  that  this  often  bore  on  'the 
consolation  of  Israel.'  But,  indeed,  all  that  came  from  Jerusalem,  all  Acts.xm.  iPj 
that  helped  them  to  realise  their  living  connection  with  it,  or  bound 
it  more  closely,  was  precious.  'Letters  out  of  Judaea,'  the  tidings 
which  someone  might  bring  on  liis  return  from  festive  pilgrimage  or 
business  journey,  especially  about  anything  connected  with  that  grand 
expectaticni — the  star  which  w^as  to  rise  on  the  Eastern  sky — would 
soon  spread,  till  the  Jewish  i)edlar  in  his  wanderings  had  carried  the 
news  to  the  most  distant  and  isolated  Jewish  home,  wdicre  he  might 
tind  a  Sabbath-welcome  and  Sabbath-rest. 


'*  A6y09  TTa- 
paKArjo-eo)? 

TTpb?    TOf 


1  The  '  Gerey  haShaar,^  proselytes  of 
the  gate,  a  designation  whicli  some  have 
derived  from  the  circumstance  that  Gen- 
tiles were  not  allowed  to  advance  be- 
yond the  Tenii)le  Court,  but  more  likely 
to  be  traced  to  such  passages  as  Ex.  xx. 
10;  Deut.  xiv.  21;  xxiv.  14. 

^  Comp.  here  Targ.  Jon.  on  Judg.  v. 
2,  9.  I  feel  more  hesitation  in  appeal- 
ing to  such  passages  as  Ber.  19  a,  where 


we  read  of  a  Rabbi  in  Rome,  Thodos 
(Theudos?),  who  llourislied  several  gen- 
erations before  Hillel.  for  reasons  which 
the  passage  itself  will  suggest  to  the 
student.  At  the  time  of  Philo.  however, 
such  instructions  in  th(>  Synagogues  at 
Rome  were  a  long-established  institution 
(Ad  Caj.  p.  lOU). 
^  (piXo^Evia,  Hebr.  .\iii.  2. 


20 


THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


c^- 


BOOK  Such  undoubtedly  was  t\ui  case.     And  yet,  when  the  Jew  stej2l3e<l 

I  out  of  tlie  naiT()wcircle  wliich  he  had  drawuuaround   liini,  he  was 

^~'^fSi'^^  C(ml'routed  on  eveFy  side  by  Greciaujsni.  Jt  was  in  the  Ibi-uni,  in  the 
n-ket,  in  tlie  counting-house,  in  the  street;  in  all  that  he  saw,  and 
in  all  to  whom  he  spoke.  It  was  retined;  it  was  elegant;  it  was 
profound;  it  was  supremely  attractive.  He  might  resist,  but  he  could 
not  i)ush  it  aside.  Even  in  resisting,  he  had  already  yielded  to  it. 
For,  once  o\)Qn  the  door  to  the  questions  which  it  brought,  if  it  were 
only  to  expel,  or  repel  them,  he  must  give  n\)  that  principle  of  simple 
authority  on  whicli  traditionalism  as  a  system  rested.  Hellenic 
criticism  could  not  so  he  silenced,  nor  its  searching  light  be  extin- 
guished by  the  breath  of  a  Rabbi.  U  he  attempt(,Ml  this,  the  truth 
would  not  only  ])e  worsted  before  its  enemies,  but  suffer  detriment  in 
his  own  eyes.  He  must  meet  argument  with  argument,  and  that  not 
only  for  those  who  were  without,  but  in  order  to  be  liimself  quite  sure 
of  what  he  believed.  He  must  be  able  to  hold  it,  not  only  in  con- 
troversy with  others,  where  pride  might  l)id  him  stand  fast,  but  in 
that  much  more  serious  contest  Avithin.  wlnire  a  man  meets  the  old 

la  of  his  own   niiud.  and   has  to 
lit,  in  which  hcJjiunchcered  by 


V^ 


adversary  alone   in   the   secret  ai'cn 
sustaTiTthat  terrible  hand-to-hand  tii 


outwar*!  hel)).  ]>ut  A\hy  slioiihl  he  shrink  from  the  contest,  wlien  he 
was  sure  that  his  was  Divine  truth,  and  that  therefore  victory  must 
be  on  his  side?  As  in  our  nujdern  conHicts  against  the  onesided  in- 
ferences from  i^hysical  investigations  we  are  wont  to  say  that  the 
truths  of  nature  cannot  contradict  those  of  revelation — both  l)eing  of 
God — and  as  we  are  apt  to  regard  as  truths  of  nature  what  sometimes 
are  only  deductions  from  paitially  ascertained  facts,  and  as  truths  of 
revelation  what,  after  all,  may  ))e  only  our  own  inferences,  sometimes 
from  imperfectly  apprehended  premises,  so  the  Hellenist  would  seek 
to  conciliate  the  truths  of  Divine  revelation  with  those  others  which, 
Tic~thought,  he  recognised  m  llelieiTism.  hut  what  A\ere  the  truths 
of  Divine  revelatu)n?  Was  it  only  the  substance  of  Scripture,  or 
also  its  form — the  truth  itself  which  was  conveyed,  or  the  manner  in 
which  it  was  presented  to  the  Jews;  oi-,  if  both,  then  did  the  two 
stand  on  exactly  the  same  footing?  On  the  answer  to  these  questions 
Avould  depend  how  little  or  how  much  he  would  'hellenise.' 

One  thing  at  any  rate  was  quite  certain.  The  Old  Testament, 
leastwise,  the  La\v  of  Moses,  was  directly  and  wholly  from  God;  and 
if  so,  then  its  form  also — its  letter — must  be  authentic  and  authorita- 
tive. Thus  much  on  the  surface,  and  Ibr  all.  \\\\\  the  student  must 
search  deeper  into  it,   his  senses,  as  it  were,  quickened  by  Greek 


HELLENIST    VIEWS   OF   SCRII'TrUE.  21 

criticism;  he  must  'meditate'  and  penetrate  into  the  Divine  mys-      CHAP, 
teries.   The  Palestinian  also  searched  into  them,  and  the  I'csult  was  the  H 

Midrash.     But,  whichever  of  his  methods  he  had  ai)plicd — the  Peshat^    ' 1  — 

or  simple  criticism  of  the  words,  the  DerusJi,  or  search  into  the  i)Os- 
sibie  api)lications  of  the  text,  what  might  be  'trodden  out'  of  it;  or 
the  Sod,  the  hidden,  m3Stical,  sui)ranatural  bearinii-  of  the  words — it 
was  still  only  the  letter  of  the  text  that  had  been  studied.  There  was, 
indeed,  yet  another  understanding' of  the  Scriptures,  to  Avhicli  St.l'aul 
directed  his  disci})les:  the  spiritual  bearing  of  its  spiritual  truths. 
Hut  that  needed  another  qualitication,  and  tended  in  another  direction 
from  those  of  which  the  Jewish  student  knew.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  was  the  intellectual  view  of  the  Scriptures — their  philosophical 
understanding,  the  application  to  them  of  the  results  of  Grecian 
thought  and  criticism.  It  was  this  which  was  peculiarly  Hellenistic. 
Apply  that  method,  and  the  deei)er  the  explorer  proceeded  in  his 
search,  the  more  would  he  feel  himself  alone,  far  from  the  outside 
crowd;  but  the  brighter  also  would  that  light  of  criticism,  which  he 
carried,  shine  in  the  growing  darkness,  or,  as  he  held  it  u]),  would 
the  precious  ore,  Avliich  he  laid  bare,  glitter  and  sparkle  with  a 
thousand  varying  hues  of  brilliancy.  What  was  Jewish,  Palestinian, 
individual,  concrete  in  the  Scriptures,  was  only  the  outside — true  in 
itself,  but  not  the  truth.  There  were  depths  beneath.  Strip  these 
stories  of  their  nationalism;  idealise  the  individual  of  the  })ersons 
introduced,  and  you  came  upon  abstract  ideas  and  realities,  true  to  all 
tiine  and  to  all  nations.  But  this  deep  syml)olism  was  Pythagorean; 
this  pre-existence  of  ideas  which  were  the  types  of  all  outward 
actuality,  was  Platonism!  Broken  rays  in  them,  but  the  focus  of 
truth  in  the  Scriptures.  Yet  these  were  rays,  and  could  only  have 
come  from  the  Sun.  All  truth  was  of  God;  hence  theirs  nnist  have 
been  of  that  origin.  Then  were  the  sages  of  the  heathen  also  in  a 
sense  God-taught — and  God-teaching,  or  inspiration,  was  rather  a 
question  of  degree  than  of  kind ! 

One  step  only  remained;  and  that,  as  we  imagine,  if  not  the 
easiest,  yet,  as  we  reflect  upon  it,  that  which  in  practice  would  be 
most  readily  taken.  It  was  simply  to  advance  towards  Grccianism: 
frankly  to  recognise  truth  in  the  resvdts  of  Greek  jt bought.  There  is 
that  within  us,  name  it  mental  consciousness,  or  as  you  will,  which, 
all  unbidden,  rises  to  answer  to  the  voice  of  intellectual  truth,  come 
whence  it  may,  just  as  conscience  answers  to  the  cause  of  moral  truth 
or  duty.  But  in  this  case  there  was  more.  There  was  jthe  mighty 
six'll  which  Greek  i)hilosophy  exercised  on  all  kindred  minds,  and  the 


■7 


-  6n^ 


u 


2  Till-:    PRKl'AKATION    FOR   THE    GOSPEL. 

BOOK     jripecial  adaptation  of  the  Jewisli  intellect  to  such  subtle,  if  not  deep, 

1  thinking.     And,  in  general,  and  more  powerful  than  the  rest, because 

^^  ,- —    penetrating  everywhere,  \v^j_llie.  charm  of  (Jreek  literatuxe,  with  its 

brilliancy;  of  Greek  civilisation  and  culture^jvith. their  pQlisbjamL 

attractiveness^^  and  of  what,  in  one  word,  we  may  call  the  '■  time- 

spirit,'  that  tyrannos,  who  rules  all  in  their  thinking,  speaking,  doing, 

/r\  whether  they  list  or  not. 

'--' — '  Why,  his  sway  extended  even  to  Talestine  itself,  and  was  felt  in 
the  innermost  circle  of  the  most  exclusive  Rabbinisni.  We  are  not 
li(;re  referring  to  the  fact  that  the  very  language  spoken  in  Palestine 
caine  to  be  very  largely  charged  with  Greek,  and  even  Latin,  words 
Ilebraised,  since  this  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the  new  circumstances, 
and  the  necessities  of  intercourse  with  the  dominant  or  resident 
foreigners.  Nor  is  it  requisite  to  point  out  how  impossible  it  would 
have  been,  in  presence  of  so  many  from  the  Greek  and  Roman  world, 
and  after  the  long  and  persistent  struggle  of  their  rulers  to  Grecianise 
Palestine,  nay,  even  in  view  of  so  many  magnificent  heathen  temples 
on  the  very  soil  of  Palestine,  to  exclude  all  knowledge  of,  or  contact 
with  Grecianism.  But  not  to  be  able  to  exclude  was  to  have  in  sight 
the  dazzle  of  that  unknown,  which  as  such,  and  in  itself,  must  have 
luul  peculiar  attractions  to  the  Jewish  mind.  It  needed  stern 
principle  to  repress  the  curiosity  thus  awakened.  When  a  young 
Ral)l)i,  BeriDama,  asked  his  uncle  whether  he  might  not  study  Greek 
philosophy,  since  he  had  mastered  the  'Law'  in  every  aspect  of  it, 
the  older  Rabbi  replied  by  a  reference  to  Josh.  i.  8:  'Go  and  search 
what  is  the  hour  which  is  neither  of  the  day  nor  of  the  night,  and  in 
"Men.  99;.,  it  thou  maycst  study  Greek  philosophy.'"  Yet  even  the  Jewish 
end  })atriarch,  Gamaliel  IL,  who  may  have  sat  with  Saul  01  Tarsus  at  the 

feet  of  his  grandfather,  was  said  to  have  busied  himself  with  Greek, 
as  he  certainly  held  liberal  views  on  many  points  connected  with 
Grecianism.  To  be  sure,  tradition  justified  him  on  the  ground  that 
his  position  brought  hiin  into  contact  with  the  ruling  powers,  and, 
perhaps,  to  further  vindicate  him,  ascribed  similar  pursuits  to  the 
elder  Gamaliel,  although  groundlessly,  to  judge  from  the  circumstance 
that  he  was  so  impressed  even  with  the  wrong  of  possessing  a  Targum 
on  .lob  in  Aramaean,  that  he  had  it  buried  deep  in  the  ground. 

But  all  these  are  indications  of  a  tendency  existing.  How  wide 
it  must  have  spread,  appears  from  the  fact  that  the  ban  had  to  be 
pronounced  on  all  who  studied  'Greek  wisdom.'  One  of  the  greatest 
Rabbis,  Elisha  ben  Abujah,  seems  to  have  been  actually  led  to 
apostacy  by  such  studies.  True,  he  appears  as  the  ^Acher'' — the 
'other' — in   Talmudic    writings,  Avhom  it   was  not  proper  even  to 


THE   SEPTUAGINT   AS   THE    PEOPLE'S   BIIJLE.  23 

naiuo.     But  he  was  not  yet  an  apostate  tVoni  the  Synagogue  when      CHAP. 
tlu).se  '  Greek  songs '  ever  tlowed  from  his  lips;  and  it  was  in  the  veiy  H 

Beth-lia-Midrash.  ov  theologieal  aeadeniy,  tliat  a  multitude  of  SipJireij  '^ —  .' — 
3IiiiiiH   (heretical  l)ooks)   Hew  Irom  his  breast,  where  they  had  lain 

concealed/'     It  nmy  be  so,  tluit  the  expression  ^  Hiplirty  Homeros^  -jcr. chag. 

(Homeric  writings),  which  occur  not  only  in  the  Talmud ''but  even  ciiag.^i™^' 

in  the  Mishnah'    reterred   pre-eminently,   it  not  exclusively,   to  the  ''Jer.  sanh. 

'        _  •  '  -^  '  X.  28  a 

religious  (u-  semi-religious  Jewish  Hellenistic  literat.ure,  outside  even   <••  vad.  iv.  g 
the  Apocrypha.'     But  its  occurrence  proves,  at  any  rate,  that  the 
Hellenists  were  credited  with  the  study  of  Greek  literature,  and  tliat 
through    tliem,    il'   not   moi-e  directly,   the   Palestinia.ns  had  become 
acciuainted  with  it. 

This  sketch  will  pre})are  us  for  a  rapid  survey  of  that  Hellenistic 
literature  which  Judasa  so  mucli  drea<}ed.  Its  importance,  not  only  to 
the  Hellenists  but  to  the  world  at  large,  can  scarcely  be  over-estimated. 
First  and  foremost,  we  have  here  the  Greek  translation  of  the  Old 
Testament,  veneral)le  not  only  as  the  oldest,  but  as  that  which  at  the 
time  of  Jesus  held  the  place  of  our  *  Authorized  Aversion,' and  as 
such  is  so  often,  although  freely,  quoted,  in  the  New  Testament.  Nor 
need  we  wonder  that  it  slioidd  have  been  the  people's  Bible,  not 
merely  among  the  Hellenists,  but  in  Galilee,  and  even  in  Judaea.  It 
was  not  only,  as  already  exjilained,  that  Hebrew  was  no  longer  tlie 
'  vulgar  tongue '  in  Palestine,  and  that  written  Targuinim  were  pro- 
liibited.  But  most,  if  not  all — at  least  in  towns — would  understand 
the  Greek  version;  it  might  be  quoted  in  intercourse  with  Hellenist 
In-ethren  or  with  the  Gentiles;  and,  what  was  perhaps  equally,  if  not 
more  important,  it  was  the  most  readily  procurable.  From  the  extreme 
labour  and  care  bestowed  on  them,  Hebrew  manuscrii)ts  of  the  Bible 
were  enormously  dear,  as  we  infer  from  a  curious  Talmudical  notice,''   'iGut.a^x. 

1  11  1  •    1       r  1  last  line, 

where  a  connnon  woollen  wra}),  which  ot  course  yvas  very  cheap,  a  coj)y  ana  u 
of  the  Psalms,  of  Job,  and  torn  pieces  from  Proverbs,  are  together 
valued  at  tive  nianeh — say,  about  19?.  Although  this  notice  dates  from 
the  third  or  fourth  century,  it  is  not  likely  that  the  cost  of  Hebrew 
BiVdical  MSS.  was  much  lower  at  the  lime  of  Jesus.  This  would,  of 
course,  put  their  possession  well  nigh  out  of  common  reach.     On  the 

'  Throu<2;h    tliis  literature,    whicli    as  Bibel  u.  Talmud,  vol.  ii.  pp.  68,  69),  the 

bein<!;  .Jewisli  might  have   i)assed  unsus-  expre.-^rfion     Siphroy    Ilomeros    applies 

peeted,  a  dangerous  acquaintance  might  exchisively  to   the    Juda^o-AIexandvian 

have  been  introduced  with   Greek  writ-  heretical    writings;    according   to  Fur>it 

ings — the  more  readily,  that  for  example  (Kanon    d.    A.  Test.  p.   98),    simjjly  to 

Aristobulus  described  Homer  and  Ilesiod  Homeric  literature.     But  see  the  discus- 

as  having  'drawn  from  our  liooks'  (ap.  sion  in  Xer//,  Neuhebr.  u.  Chald.Worterb., 

Euseh.    Pra^par.    Evang.  xiii.   12).     Ac-  vol.  i.  p.  176  ii  and  l>. 
cording  to  Ilamhin-r/er  (Real-Encykl.  fiir 


24  THE    PREPARATION   P^OR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK      other  hand,  we  are  able  to  Un-\n  an  idea  of  the  cheainics.s  of  Greek 
I  manuscripts  from  what  we  know  of  the  price  of  l)ooks  in  Rome  at  the 

"*— ^v —  he.iiinning-  of  our  era.  Hunch-eds  of  slaves  were  there  engaged  copying 
what  one  dictated.  The  result  was  not  only  the  publication  of  as 
large  editions  as  in  our  days,  but  their  production  at  only  about  double 
the  cost  of  what  are  now  known  as  'cheap'  or  '  })eople's  editions.' 
Probably  it  would  be  safe  to  compute,  that  as  much  matter  as  would 
cover  sixteen  pages  of  small  print  might,  in  such  cases,  be  sold  at  the 
rate  of  about  sixpence,  and  in  that  ratio.'  Accordingly,  manuscripts 
in  Greek  or  Latin,  although  often  incorrect,  must  have  been  easily 
attainable,  and  this  would  have  considerable  influence  on  nuiking  the 
Greek  version  of  the  Old  Testament  the  'people's  Bible.  - 

The  Greek  version,  like  the  Targum  of  the  Palestinians,  originated, 
no  doubt,  in  the  first  place,  in  a  felt  national  want  on  the  part  of  the 
Hellenists,  who  as  a  body  were  ignorant  of-  Hebrew.  Hence  we  find 
notices  of  very  early  Greek  versions  of  at  least  parts  of  the  Penta- 
teuch.^ But  this,  of  course,  could  not  suffice.  On  the  other  hand, 
there  existed,  as  Ave  may  suppose,  a  natural  curiosity  on  the  part  of 
students,  especially  in  Alexandria,  which  had  so  large  a  Jewish  popu- 
lation, to  know  the  sacred  liooks  on  which  the  religion  and  history  of 
Israel  were  founded.  Even  more  than  this,  we  must  take  into 
account  the  literary  tastes  of  the  first  three  Ptolemies  (successors  in 
Egypt  of  Alexander  the  Great),  and  the  exceptional  favour  which 
the  Jews  for  a  time  enjoyed.  Ptolemy  I.  (Lagi)  was  a  great  patron 
of  learning.  He  projected  the  Museum  in  Alexandria,  which  was  a 
liome  for  literature  and  study,  and  founded  the  great  library.'  In 
these  undertakings  Demetrius  Phalereus  was  his  chief  adviser.  The 
tastes  of  the  first  Ptolemy  were  inherited  by  his  son,   Ptolemy  II. 

^286-284B.c.  (Philadelphus),  who  had  for  two  years  been  co-regent.^  In  fact, 
ultimately  that  monarch  became  literally  book-mad,  and  the  sums 
spent  on  rare  MSS.,  which  too  often  proved  spurious,  almost  pass 
belief.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  third  of  these  monarchs, 
Ptolemy  III.  (Euergetes).  It  would  have  been  strange,  indeed,  if 
these  monarchs  had  not  sought  to  enrich  their  library  with  an 
authentic  rendering  of  the  Jewish  sacred  books,  or  not  encouraged 
such  a  translation. 

'  Comp.   Frif^dUiridar,  gitteiii;-.  Roins,  ^    i^.,-,>,./,^/,„//,.,.  in -p^gp),  Pi-ajpjii-.Evanfr. 

vol.  iii.  p.  31.').  ix.   f>;    xiii.   12.      Tlie  douhts  raised  by 

2  To  these  calL^es  there  should  perhaps  //^qc/?/ aijaiust  this  testimony  have  been 

be  added  the  attempt  to  iiiti'odiice  Gre-  li-enerally  repudiated  by  critics  since  the 

danism  by  force  inlo  Palestine,  the  con-  treatise  ijy  Fa?fe??aer  (Diatr.  de  Aristob. 

sequences  which  it  may  have  left,  and  the  .Tud.   appended  to  Gai'sford's  eA.  of  the 

existence  of  a  Grecian  i)arty  in  the  land.  Pnepar.  Evang.). 


ORIGIN   OF   THE   8EPTITAGINT.  25 

These  circuiiistauces  will  account  for  the  ditt'erent  elements  which  CHAP, 
we  can  trace  in  the  Greek  version  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  explain  il 
the  historical,  or  rather  legendary,  notices  which  we  have  of  its  - — .' — ' 
composition.  To  Ix'gin  with  the  latter.  Josephiis  has  preserved 
what,  no  doubt  in  its  present  form,  is  a  spurious  letter  from  one 
Aristeas  to  his  brother  Philocrates,'  in  which  we  are  told  how,  by  the 
advice  of  his  librarian  (?),  Demetrius  Phalereus,  Ptolemy  II.  had 
sent  by  him  (Aristeas)  and  another  officer,  a  letter,  with  rich  presents, 
to  Eleazar,  the  High-Priest  at  Jerusalem;  who  in  turn  had  selected 
seventy-two  translators  (six  out  of  each  tribe),  and  furnished  them 
with  a  most  valuable  manuscript  of  the  Old  Testament.  The  letter 
then  gives  further  details  of  their  splendid  reception  at  the  E]gyptian 
court,  and  of  their  sojourn  in  the  island  of  Pharos,  where  they  ac- 
complished their  work  in  seventy-two  days,  when  they  returned  to 
.lerusalom  laden  with  rich  presents,  their  translation  having  received 
the  formal  approval  of  the  Jewish  Sanhedrin  at  Alexandria.  From 
this  account  we  may  at  least  derive  as  historical  these  facts:  that 
the  Pentateuch — for  to  it  only  the  testimony  refers — was  translated 
into  Greek,  at  the  suggestion  of  Demetrius  Phalereus,  in  the  reign 
and  under  the  patronage — if  not  by  direction — of  Ptolemy  II, 
(Philadelphus).'  With  this  the  Jewish  accounts  agree,  which  describe 
the  translation  of  the  Pentateuch  under  Ptolemy — the  Jerusalem  Tal- 
mud ''in  a  simpler  narrative,  the  Babylonian"  w^tli  additions  apparently  ''  ^^^s-  *• 
derived  from  the  Alexandrian  legends;  the  former  expressly  noting 
thirteen,  the  latter  marking  fifteen,  variations  from  the  original  text. '^ 

The  Pentateuch  once  translated,  whether  by  one,  or  more  likely 
by  several  persons/  the  other   books   of  the  Old  Testament  would 

1  Comp.    Joseplii    Opera,   ed.    Haver-  KeiJ,   Lelirb.   d.   hist.   kr.  Eiul.  d.  A.  T., 

camp,   vol.   ii.  App.  pp.  103-132.     The  p.. 551,  note  5. 

best  and  most  critical    edition  of   this  ^  It  is  scarcely  worth  while  to  refute 

letter   by  Prof.  M.    Schmidt,    in    Merx'  the    view  of   Tychsen,    Jost   (Gescli.  d. 

Archiv.    i.    pp.    252-310.     The   story   is  Judenth.),   and  others,   that   the  Jewish 

found  in  Jos.  Ant.  xii.  2.  2;  Ag.  Ap.  ii.  writers    only  wrote    down    for   Ptolemy 

4;  Philo,   de  Vita  Mosis,  lib.  ii.  §  5-7.  the    Hebrew  words    in   Greek    letters. 

The   extracts  are    most  fully  given   in  But  the  word  ^ji'i  cannot  possibly  bear 

Easeh.   Pra.>par.    Evang.     Some  of    the  that  meaning  in  this  connection.    Comp. 

Fathers  give  the  story,  with  additional  also  Frankel,  Vorstudien,  p.  31. 

embellishments.     It  was  first  critically  *  According  to  Sopher.  i.   8,   by  five 

called  in  question  by  Body  (Contra  His-  persons,  but  that  seems  a  round  number 

toriam  Aristene  de  L.  X.  interpret,  dissert.  to  correspond  to  the  five  books  of  Moses. 

Oxon.  1685),  and  has  since  been  generally  Fninkel  (Ueber  d.  Eiiitl.  d.  iialiist.  Exeg.) 

regarded  as  legendary.     But  its  founda-  labours,  however,  to  sliow  in  detail   the 

tion  in  fact  has  of  late  been  recognized  differences  between  the  difierent  trans- 

by  well  nigh  all  critics,  tliongh  the  letter  lators.  But  his  criticism  is  often  strained, 

itself  is  pseudonymic,  and  full  of  fabuhnis  and  the  solution  of   the  question  is  ap- 

details.  parently  impossible. 

~  This  is  also  otherwise  attested.     See 


Meg.  9  a 


26  THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   (JOSPEL. 

l!()(»K      nntiii-nlly  soon  receive  the   same    treatnicnt.     They  were  evidently 
'  rendei'cd  by  a  number  of})ersons,  who  possessed  very  different  qualiti- 

"- — ^.  cations  for  their  work — the  transhition  of  tlie  J3ook  of  Daniel  having 

l)een  so  defective,  that  in  its  i)lace  another  by  Theodotion  was  after- 
v/ards  substituted.  The  version,  as  a  whole,  bears  tiie  name  of  the 
LXX. — as  some  have  sui)i)osed  irom  the  nund>erof  its  translators  ac- 
cording to  Aristcas'  account — only  that  in  that  case  it  should  have 
been  seventy-two;  or  from  the  approval  of  tlie  Alexandrian  San- 
hedriu' — although  in  tliat  case  it  should  have  been  seventy-one;  or 
perhaps  because,  in  the  ])oj)ular  idea,  the  number  of  the  Gentile 
nations,  of  which  the  Greek  (Japheth)  was  regarded  as  typical,  was 
seventy.  We  have,  however,  one  tixed  date  by  which  to  compute  the 
completion  of  this  translation.  Fromthei)rologueto  the  Apocryphal 
'  Wisdom  of  Jesus  the  son  of  Siracli,'  we  learn  that  in  his  days  the 
Canon  of  Scripture  was  closed;  and  tliat  on  his  arrival,  in  his  thirty- 
eighth  year,"  in  Egypt,  which  was  then  under  the  rule  of  p]uergetes, 
he  found  the  so-called  LXX.  version  completed,  when  he  set  himself 
to  a  similar  translation  of  the  Hebrew  work  of  his  grandfather.  But 
in  the  50th  chapter  of  that  work  we  have  a  description  of  the  High- 
Priest  Simon,  which  is  evidently  written  by  an  eye-witness.  We 
have  therefore  as  one  term  the  pontificate  of  Simon,  during  which 
the  earlier  Jesus  lived;  and  as  the  other,  the  reign  of  Euergetes,  in 
which  the  grandson  was  at  Alexandria.  Now,  although  there  were 
two  High-Priests  who  bore  the  name  Simon,  and  two  Egyptian  kings 
with  the  surname  Euergetes,  yet  on  purely  historical  grounds,  and 
apart  from  critical  prejudices,  we  conclude  that  the  Simon  of  J]cclus. 
L.  was  Simon  I.,  the  Just,  one  of  the  greatest  names  in  Jewish 
traditional  history;  and  similarly,  that  the  Euergetes  of  the  younger 
Jesus  was  the  first  of  that  name,  Ptolemy  III.,  who  reigned  Irom 
247  to  221  B.C.-*  In  his  reign,  therefore,  we  must  regard  the  LXX. 
version  as,  at  least  substantially,  completed. 

'  _B6/^/ would  have  it,  'the  Jerusalem  it  tiear  on  the  question  of  the  8o-calhHl 

Sanhedrin!'  'Maccabean  Psahns,'and  the  autliorsiiip 

'■^  But   the   expression   has   also   been  and  date  of  the  ]?ook  of  Daniel.  But  liis- 

referred  to  the  thirty-eighth  year  of  the  torical  ((uestloiis  should  ]w  treated  inde- 

reign  of  Euergetes.  pendently  <jf  critical  prejudices.      Winer 

•^  To  ray  niiud,  at  least,  the  historical  (Bibl.  Reahvorterb.  i.  p.  555),  and  others 
evidence,  ai)art  from  critical  considera-  after  him  admit  that  the  Simon  of 
tions,  seems  very  strong.  Modern  writers  Ecclus.  ch.  L.  was  indeed  Simon  the  .Just 
on  the  other  side  have  confessedly  been  (i.),  but  maintain  that  the  Euergetes  of 
influenced  Ijy  the  consideration  that  the  tlie  Prologue  was  the  second  of  tliat 
earlier  date  of  tlie  Book  of  Siracli  would  luime,  Ptohuiiy  YII.,  popularly  nick- 
also  involve  a  mucli  (>arlier  date  for  the  named  Kakergetes.  Comp.  the  remarks 
close  of  till'  ().  T.  Canon  than  they  are  dis-  of  Frifzsche  on  this  view  in  tlie  Knrzgef. 
posed  to  achnit.     More  especially  would  Exeg.  Haudb.  z.  d.Apokr.nte  Lief.  p.  xvii. 


TEXT,    OllDEK,   AND   ClIAKAOTEH    UK   THE   HEFTLACJINT. 


27 


From  tliis  it  would,  of  course,  follow  that  tho  Cauou  of  the  Old      CHAP. 
Testaoieut  was  then  i)ractically  fixed  in  Palestine. '     That  Cauoii  was         II 
accepted  by  the   Alexandrian  translators,  althou^'h   the   more   loose   ^ — . — 
views  of  the  Hellenists  on  '  inspiration,'  and  the  absence  of  that  close 
watchfulness  exercised  over  the  text  in  Palestine,  led  to  additions  and 
alterations,  and  ultimately  even  to  the  admission  of  the  Ai)ocryi)ha 
into  the  G]"eek  liible.     Unlike  the  Hebrew  arrangement  of  the  text 
into  the   Law,  the   Prophets,-  and  the  (sacred)  Writings,  or   Ilagio- 
grapha,   the  LXX.   arrange  them  into  historical,   prophetical,   and 
l)oetic    books,    and   count  twenty-two,   after  the    Hebrew  alphabet, 
instead  of  twenty-four,  as  the  Hebrews.     But  perhaps  both  these 
may  have  been  later  arrangements,  since  Philo  evidently  knew  the 
Jewish  order  of  the  books."     What  text  the  translators  may  have  "Devua 
used   we   can   only   conjecture.      It   differs   in   almost   innumerable  sa 
instances  from  our  own,  though  the  more  important  deviations  ai"e 
comparatively  few.^     In  the  great  majority  of  the  lesser  variati(nis 
our  Hebrew  must  be  regarded  as  the  correct  text.* 

Putting  aside  clerical  mistakes  and  misreadings,  and  making 
allowance  for  errors  of  translation,  ignorance,  and  haste,  we  note 
^certain  outstanding  facts  as  characteristic  of  the  Greek  version.  It 
bears  evident  marks  of  its  origin  in  Egypt  in  its  use  of  Egyptian 
words  and  references,  and  £!C|jLially  evident_traces  of  its  Jewish  coni- 
position.  By  the  side  of  slavish  and  false  literalism  there  is  great 
liberty,  Jf^not  licence,  in  handling  the  ^original;  gi'oss  mist;ikcs  occur 
along  with  happy  renderings  of  very  difficult  passages,  suggesting 
the  aid  of  some  a))le  scholars.  I^j^tjjii't  Jewish  elemenls  ;ire  un- 
draiably  there,  which  can  only  be  explained  by  refcicui-e  In  Jewish 
tradition,  although  they  arc  nuich  fewer  than  some  critics  have 
sujj^oacd.'     Tliis  we  can  easily  understand,  since  only  those   tradi- 


•  Comp.  liere,  besides  the  passages 
fiuoted  in  the  i)i'evious  note,  Baba  B.  13  b 
and  14  6;  for  the  cessation  of  revela- 
tion in  the  Maccabean  period,  1  Mace.  iv. 
4fi ;  ix.  27 ;  xiv.  41 ;  and,  in  general,  for 
the  Jewish  view  on  the  subject  at  the 
time  of  Christ,  Jns.  Ag.  Aj).  i.  8. 

'^  Anterior:  .Tosh.,  Judg.,  1  and  2  Sam. 
1  and  2  Kings.  Posterior:  Major:  Is., 
Jer.,  and  Ezek. ;  and  the  Minor  Pro- 
phets. 

■'  They  occur  chiefly  in  1  Kings,  tlie 
books  of  Esther,  Job,  Proverbs,  Jeremiah, 
and  Daniel.  In  the  Pentateuch  we  find 
them  only  in  four  passages  in  the  Book  of 
Exodus. 

*  There  is  also  a  curious  correspondence 


between  the  Samaritan  version  of  the 
Pentateuch  and  that  of  the  LXX.,  which 
in  no  less  than  about  2,000  passages  agree 
as  against  our  Hebrew,  although  in  other 
instances  the  Greek  text  either  agrees 
with  the  Hebrew  against  the  Samaritan, 
or  else  is  independent  of  both.  On  tho 
connection  between  Samaritan  literature 
and  Hellenism  there  are  some  very  inte- 
resting notices  in  FreudenthaJ ,\le\\.i^i\ii\. 
pp.  82-103,  130-136,  186,  &c. 

•■'  The  extravagant  computations  in 
this  respect  of  Frankel  (Ijoth  in  his  work, 
Ueber  d.  Einfl.  d.  Palast.  Exeg.,  and 
also  in  the  Yorstud.  z.  Se])t.  pp.  189-191) 
have  been  rectiti('(l  l)y  Ufrz/eld  (Gesch. 
d.  Vol.  Isr.  vol.  iii.),who,  perhaps,  goes  to 


oy  THE    PREPARATION    FOR    THE    (JOSPKl.. 

BOOK  tioiis  would  tiud  a  place  which  at  that  early  time  were  not  only 
1  received,  but  in  general  circulation.     The  distinctively  Grecianjele-^ 

^— ^.^ — '  ments,  however,  are  at  present  of  chief  interest  to  us.  They  consist^f 
allusions  to  Greek  mythological  terms,  and  adai)tations  of  Greek  phi- 
losophical ideas.  However  few, '  even  one  well-authenticated  instance 
would  lead  us  to  suspect  others,  and  in  general  give  to  the  version 
the  character  of  Jewish  Hcllenising.  In  the  same  class  we  reckon 
what  constitutes  the  prouiiueiit  characteristic  of  the  LXX.  version, 
which,  for  want  of  better  terms,  we  would  designate  as  rationalistic 
and  apologetic.  Difficulties — or  what  seemed  such — are  removed  by 
the  most  l)old  UK'tliods,  and  by  free  handling  of  the  text;  it  need 
scarcely  be  said,  often  very  unsatisfactorily.  More  especially  a 
strenuous  eff'ort  is  made  to  banish  all  anthro})omori)hisms,  as  incon- 
sistent with  their  ideas  of  the  Deity.  The  supertlcial  observer  might 
be  tempted  to  regard  this  as  not  strictly  Hellenistic,  since  the  same 
may  be  noted,  and  indeed  is  much  more  consistently  carried  out,  in 
the  Targum  of  Onkelos.  Perhaps  such  alterations  had  even  been 
introduced  into  the  Hebrew  text  itself.^  But  there  is  this  vital 
difft'rence  between  Palestinianism  and  Alexandriaiiism,  that,  broadly 
speaking,  the  Hebrew  avoidance  of  anthropomorphisms  depends  on 
objective — theological  and  dogmatic — the  Hellenistii;  on  subjective 
— philosophical  and  apologetic — grounds.  The  Hebrew  avoids  them 
as  he  does  wluit  seems  to  him  inconsistent  with  the  dignity  of  Biblical 
heroes  and  of  Israel.      '  Great  js  the  power  of  the  prophets,'  he  writes, 

■  Mechuta  '  wlio  likcu  the  Creator  to  the  creature; '  or  else""  '  a  thing  is  written 
only  to  break  it  to  the  ear ' — to  adapt  it  to  our  human  modes  of 
speaking  and  understanding;  and  again,"  the  '  Avords  of  the  Torah 
are  like  the  speech  of  the  children  of  men.'  But  for  tliis  very  pur- 
pose the  words  of  Scripture  may  be  presented  in  another  form,  if  need 

the  other  extreme.     Herzfekl  (pp.  548-  this  is  not  tlie  sole  Instance  of  the  kind. 
650)  admits — and  even  this  with  hesita-  ''■  As   in  the  so-called  '  Tiqquney  ISa- 

tion — of  only  six  distinct  references  to  'pherim,^ ov  'emendations  of  the  scribes.' 

Halakhoth  in  the  following-  passages  in  Comp.  here  generally  the  investigations 

the  LXX.:   Gen.   ix.  4;  xxxii.  32;  Lev.  of    Geiger  (Urschrift    n.    tleberse  z.  d. 

xix.  19;  xxiv.  7;  Deut.  xxv.  5;  xxvi.  12.  Bibel).     But  these,  however  learned  and 

As  instances  of  Haggadah  we  may  men-  ingenious,  require,  like  so  many  of  the 

tion   the  renderings  in  Gen.  v.  24  and  dicta  of  modern  Jewish  criticism,  to  be 

Ex.  X.  23.  taken  with  the  utmost  caution,  and  in 

1  Dahne    and   Gfrorer  have  in    this  each  case  subjected  to  fresh  examination, 

resi)ect  gone  to   the   same   extreme  as  since  so  large  a  i)roportion  of  tlieir  writ- 

Frankel  on  the  Jewish  side.     But  even  ings  are  what  is  best  designated  by  the 

SiP[ifried{^\\\\.o  v.  Alex.  p.  S)  is  obliged  to  German  Tendenz-Schriften,  and  their  in- 

admit  that  the  LXX.  rendering,  i)  deyi)  ferences  Tendenz-Schlilssf.  But  the  critic 

7JV    dopcxro-    (XKai    KaraaKsvaaroi  and  the  historian  should  have  no   Tfe//- 

Gen.  i.  2),  bears  undeniable  mark  of  Gre-  druz — except   towards   simi>le   fact  and 

cian  philosophic  views.     And  certainly  historical  truth. 


on  Ex.  xix. 


ALEXANDRIAN   VIEWS   ON    INTEKrilETATION   AND   INSIMIJATION.  09 

he  even  inoditicd,  so  as  to  obviate  possible  inisuiiderstaiulin^-,  or  doy,-      CHAP. 
niatic  error.     The  Alexandrians  arrived  at  the  same  eonelusion,  but  II 

from  an  opposite  direction.     The}'  had  not  theological  but  philo-  ^^-^r — ' 
sophieal  axioms  in  their  minds — truths  which  the  hhjhest  truth  could 
not,  and,   as  they  held,  did  not  contravene.     Only  dig  deeper;  get 
beyond  the  letter  to  that  to  which  it  pointed;  divest  abstract  truth  of 
its  concrete,  national,  Judaistic  envelope — penetrate  through  the  dim 
porch  into  the  temple,  and  you  were  surrounded  by  a  blaze  of  light, 
of  which,  as  its  portals  had  been  thrown  open,  single  rays  had  fallen 
into  the  night   of  heathendom.     And   so   the   truth  would  appear      -7^ 
glorious — more  than  vindicated  in  their  own  sight,   triumphant  in  Xj^ 
that  of  others!  ^^"^^ 

Iu_such  manner  the  LXX.   version  became  really  the  people's     /^'-*-- 
Bible  to  that  large  Jewish  world  through  which  Christianity  was     L^     ^ 


afterwards  to  address  itself  to  mankind.     It  was  part  of  the  case,  that    ^   /-^^^^^ 
the  original.     Otherwise  it  would  have  been  impossible  to  make  final    ^^^'. 


this  translation  should  be  regariled  by  the  Hellenists  as  inspired  like 


appeal  to  the  very  words  of  the  Greek;  still  less,  to  tind  in  them  a    '       ' '■        d 
mystical  and  allegorical  meaning.     Only  that  we  must  not  regard  -^VX  - 
their  views  of  inspiration — except  as  applying  to  Moses,  and  even 


-2^ 


t  lierc  only  partially — as  identical  Avitli  ours.  To  their  minds  inspira- 
tion differed  quantitatively,  not  qualitatively,  from  what  the  rapt  soul  '^^'~'*^^ 
might  at  any  time  experience,  so  that  even  heathen  philosophers /Z^  ^^^ 
might  ultimately  be  regarded  as  at  times  inspired.  So  far  as  the  4 «^-  7^^ 
version  of  the  Bible  was  concerned  (and  probably  on  like  grounds), 
similar  views  obtained  at  a  later  period  even  in  Hebrew  circles,  where  .e>^  "  m^j 
it  was  laid  down  that  the  Chaldee  Targum  on  the  Pentateuch  had  ^^ .  ^^ 
been  originally  spoken  to  Moses  on  Sinai,-'  thou2:h  afterwards  for-  '» Ned. 37  6: 
gotten,  till  restored  and  re-mtroduced.''  laieg.  3  a 

Whether  or  not  the  LXX.  was  read  in  the  Hellenist  Synagogues, 
and  the  worship  conducted,  wiiolly  or  partly,  in  Greek,  must  l)e 
matter  of  conjecture.  We  tind,  however,  a  significant  notice''  to  the  "Jer.  Meg. 
effect  that  among  those  who  spoke  a  barbarous  language  (not  Hebrew  Ki-ot.  p.Vs.r 
—the  terra  referring  specially  to  Greek),  it  was  the  custom  for  one 
person  to  read  the  whole  Parashah  (oi'  lesson  for  the  day),  while 
among  the  Hebrew-speaking  Jews  this  was  done  by  seven  persons, 
successively  called  up.  This  seems  to  imply  that  either  the  Greek 
text  alone  was  read,  or  that  it  followed  a  Hebrew  reading,  like  the  Tar- 
gum of  the  Easterns.  More  probably,  however,  the  former  would  be 
the  case,  since  both  Hebrew  manuscripts,  and  persons  qualified  to 
read  them,  would  be  ditRcult  to  procure.     At  any  rate,  we  know  that 


0  THH    I'RKI'AKATIOX    l'i)\l    THE    GOSPKI.. 

i;{,(»K      t  lie  Greek  Scriptures  wcic  authoritatively  acknowledged  in  Palef!tiiiej2_ 
I  and  tliat  the  ordinary  daily  prayers  iiught  be  said  in  (ireek.-     The 

— ■;' —  LXX.  deserved  this  distinction  I'roni  its  general  faithfulness — at  least, 
in  regard  to  the  I'eiitateuch — and  from  its  preservation  of  ancient 
doctrine,  'rtius.  without  further  referring  to  its  full  acknowledgment 
of  the  doctrine  of  Angels  (comp.  Deut.  xxxii.  H,  xxxiii.  2).  we  s})eeially 
mark  that  it  preserved  the  Messianic  interpretation  of  (irn.  xlix.  10, 
and  Numb.  xxi\.  T.  IT,  2:;,  bringing  us  evidence  of  what  had  been 
the  generally  received  view  two  and  a  half  centuries  before  the  birth 
of  Jesus.  It  must  have  been  on  the  ground  of  the  use  made  of  the 
LXX.  in  argument,  that  later  voices  in  the  Synagogue  declared  this 
version  to  have  ])een  as  gi-eat  a  calamity  to  Israel  as  the  making  of 
the  gohlen  caHV  and  that  its  eompletion  had  been  followed  l)y  the 
terril)le  omen  of  an  eclijjse,  that  lasted  three  days.''  For  the  Ral)l)is 
declared  that  upon  investigation  it  had  been  found  that  the  Torah 
could  lie  adetpiately  translated  (udy  into  Greek,  and  they  are  most 
extravagant  in  their  i)raise  of  the  Greek  version  of  Aky/as,  or  Aquila, 
the  i)roselyte,  Avhich  was  made  to  counteract  the  influence  of  the 
LXX.'  I)Ut  in  Egypt  the  anniversaiw  of  the  completion  of  the  LXX. 
was  celebrated  by  a  feast  in  the  island  of  Pharos,  in  which  ultimately 
even  heathens  seem  to  have  taken  i)ait.'' 


/  ^  Meii".  i.  S.  It  i.<.  Iiowt'ver.  fair  to  con- 
fess strong  douljt,  on  my  part,  wlictliei- 
this  pa-ssuiiie  may  not  refer  to  tlie  Greek 
translation  of  AkyUts.  At  tlie  same  time 
it  simply  speaks  of  a  translation  into 
(rreek.  And  l)efore  the  version  of  Aquila 
the  LXX.  alone  held  that  place.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  darini::  modern  .Tewisli 
perversions  of  history  to  identify  tliis 
Akylas,  wlio  Hourislied  about  KJO  after 
Christ,  with  the  Aquila  of  the  Book  of 
Acts.  It  wants  even  the  excuse  of  a 
(■olourai)le  ])erversion  of  the  confused 
story  about  Akylas.  whicli  EpipfidniKs 
who  is  so  jjenerallv  inaccurate,  uives  in 


De  I'ond.  el  .Mensur.  c.  .\lv. 

-  The  -Shema"  (.Jewish  creed),  with  its 
collects,  tlie  eif^hteen  'bene(rictious,'  and 
■  the  ,2:race  at  meat. '  A  later  Ilabtji  vindi- 
cated the  use  of  the  '  Shema  '  in  Greek 
l)y  tlie  ariiumeiit  that  tlie  word  Slipmn 
meant  not  only  -Hear,'  l)Ut  also  'un- 
derstand ■  (.Ter.  Sotali  vii.  l.)Conip.  .Sotah 
vii.  1.  2.  In  P>er.  40  h.  it  is  said  that 
tlie  I'arashah  connected  witli  the  woman 
suspected  of  adultery,  the  jirayer  and 
confession  at  tlie  brin<;inii:  of  the  tithes, 
and  the  various  beneilictions  over  food, 
may  l)e  said  not  only  in  Hebrew,  but  in 
any  other  lanii'nases. 


AI'OCRVniAI,    IJTKHATUUE,  31 


riTAPTEK   III. 

THK  OLl>  FAITH  I'KKl'A  H  IM;  KoK  TIIK  XKW — I>K\'KL<)I'M  KXT  oF  IIF1,LK\I8T 
THKOLOfiV:  THK  Al'OCin  I'll  A.  AIMSTKAS.  A  ItlSTOlU'IA'S,  AX  D  IIIK  I'SKl'lr 
KIMKIJAIMIIC   W  KITIX(;s. 

'VuK  ti;nislati()ii  of  the  OhMVstaiucu.t  Iiitii  Greek AiiLiOu_l)i::.ll'ganie<l      CHAP. 
jis  the  staitiiuj;-j)j>iiit    ol"  HelleuisiiK      It   rendered   ^)ossil)le  tlie   lioix'         m 

that  what  ill  its  original   torni  hadjjceu  eontined  to  tlu'  few.   might  ^ —  ^"^ 

become  aeeessible  to  the  world  at  large.'     l>ut  much  yet  remained  to  '/'/»/<-,  <i6 

he  done.      If  the  religion  of  the  Old  Testament  had  been  bronght  near  ea.  Man-' 

gey.  ii-  v- 

to  the  (irecian  world  of  tlKtnght,  the  latter  had  still  to  be  brought  near  n^" 
to  Judaism.  Some  intermediate  stage  must  be  tbund;  some  eonnnon 
ground  on  which  the  two  might  meet:  some  original  kindredness 
of  s})irit  to  which  their  later  divergences  might  be  carried  l)ack.  and 
where  they  might  finally  be  reconciled.  As  the  first  attemjjt  in  this 
dii-ection — first  in  order,  if  not  always  in  time — Ave  mark  the  so- 
called  Apocryphal  literature,  most  of  which  was  cither  written  in 
(Jreek,  or  is  the  product  of  llellenising  Jews.'  ^jts  general  object 
wa.s  twofold.      First,  of  course,  it  was  a])ologetic — intended  to  fill  gajis 

in  Jewish  llistoi-y  oi'  tiiouglil.    but    e.-pecially   to  stl-eilgthen   the  J(A\isll 

mind  against  attacks  from  without,  an<l. generally  to  extol  the  dignity 
of  Israel.  Thus,  more  withering  sarcasm  could  scaicely  be  jjoured 
(tn  heathenism  than  in  the  apocryphal  story  of  •  Bel  and  the  Di-agon,' 
or  in  the  so-called  •  Kpistle  of  Jeremy."  with  which  the  I>ook  of 
•  ilarucir  closes,  'i'he  same  strain,  only  in  more  lotty  tones,  resounds 
through  the  Hook  of  the  •  ^^■isdonl  of  Solomon. ' ''  along  with  the  '■  comp.  s.- 
constantly  implied  contrast  l)etwi'en  the  righteous,  or  l>rael.  anil 
sinners,  or  the  heatlien.  Ijut  the  next  o1>ject  was  to  show  that  the 
decpcrjind  ])urer  thinking  of  heathenism  in  its  highest  i)hiIoso|)]ry 
supported- -nay.  in  some  respects,  was  identical  with  the  funda- 
nicntal  teaching  of  the  Old  Testament.  This,  of  coui'se,  was 
apologt>tii'  of  the  Old  Testament,  but  it  also  i)repared  the  way  for  a 

'  All  ttie -Apocrypha  were   ori,i;iiially       course, -tiu^  •  Wisdom  of  Jesus  tlie  Sou  of 
written  in  Greek,  e.xcept  1  Mace,  .Judith.       Sirach." 
part  of  Bariich,  probably  Tobit.  aud.  of 


XX. 


.^: 


32  THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEI.. 

HOOK      reconciliation  with  Greek  philosophy.     We  notice  this  cspccdally  in 

I  tli(!  so-called  Fourth  Book  ofMaccabees,  so  lon,ii:  erroneously  attributed 

^- — ^1^—^   to  Josephus/ and  in  the  'Wisdom  of  Solomon."     The  first  postulate 

here  would  be  the  acknowledgment  of  truth    among    the    Gentiles, 

which  was  the  outcome  of  Wisdom — and  Wisdom  was  the  revelation 

of  God.     This  seems  already  implied  in  so  thoroughly  Jewish  a  book 

«comi,.  for  as  that  of  Jesus  the  Son  of  Sirach.''     Of  course  there  could  be  no 

ex.  Ef'i'lus.  ..... 

xxiv.  f,  alliance  with  Epicureanism,  which  was  at  the  opposite  })ole  of  the  Ohl 
Testament.  But  the  brilliancy  of  Plato's  speculations  would  charm, 
while  the  stern  self-abnegation  of  Stoicism  would  prove  almost 
equally  attractive.  The  one  would  show  why  they  believed,  the  other 
why  they  lived,  as  they  did.  Thus  the  theology  of  the  Old  Testament 
would  find  a  rational  basis  in  the  ontology  of  Plato,  and  its  ethics 
in  the  moral  philosophy  of  the  Stoics.  Indeed,  this  is  the  very  line 
of  argument  which  Joscphus  follows  in  the  conclusion  of  his  treatise 
"11.39,40  against  Apion.''  This,  then,  was  an  unassailable  position  to  take: 
«  comp.  ai-   contempt  poured  on  heathenism   as   such,"  and  a  rational   philoso- 

SO  Jos.  Ag.  ^        '  '  ^. 

Ap.  11. 34  pliical  basis  for  Judaism.  They  were  not  deep,  only  acute  thinkers, 
these  Alexandrians,  and  the  result  of  their  speculations  was  a  curious 
Eclecticism,  in  which  Platcmism  and  Stoicism  are  found,  often  hetero- 
geneously,  side  by  side.  Thus,  without  further  details,  it  may  be  said 
that  the  Fourth  Book  of  Maccabees  is  a  Jewish  Stoical  treatise  on 
the  Stoical  theme  of  '  the  supremacy  of  reason' — the  proposition, 
stated  at  the  outset,  that  *  pious  reason  bears  absolute  sway  over  the 
passions, '  being  illustrated  by  the  story  oi'  the  martyrdom  of  Eleazar, 

dcomp. 2      and  of  the  mother  and  her  seven  sons.''     On  the  other  hand,  that 

vinV^'"  sublime  work,  the  'Wisdom  of  Solomon,'  contains  Platonic  and  Stoic 
elements  ^ — chiefly  perhaps  the  latter — the  two  occurring  side  by  side. 

■^ ch. vii.  22-  Thus''  '  Wisdom,' which  is  so  concretely  presented  as  to  be  almost 

27 

fvv.  22-24      hypostatised,^  is  first  described  in  the  language  of  Stoicism, "^  and 

fVv. 25-29      afterwards  set  forth,   in  that  of  Platonism,-  as  'the  breath  of  the 

power  of  God:'  as  'a  pure  influence  floAving  from  the  glory  of  the 

Almighty;'   '  the  brightness  of  the  everlasting  light,  the  unspotted 

mirror  of  the  power  of  God,  and  the  image  of  His  goodness.'     Siini- 

'  It  is  jirhited  in  Havercami)'s  edition  -^  Compare  especially  ix.  1;  xviii.  14- 

of  .losephus,  vol.    ii.  pp.  497-520.     The  16,  where  the  ideaofcro</>/<:i- passes  into 

best  edition  is  in  Fnyzsc/ip, 'LWm  A\)o-  that  of  theXoyo?.     Of  course  the" above 

cryplii  Vet.  Test.  (Lips.  1871).  remarks  are  not  intended  to  dei)reciate 

■^  AVr/A/lCJosch.  d.  Volkes  Isr.,  vol.  iv.  the  .2;reat  value   of   this  book,   alike  in 

pp.  62()-(;:{2)  lias  ^iven  a  ,2;lowinf!:  sketch  itself,  and  in  its  practical   teaching,  in 

of  it.  Ewald  rightly  says  that  its  Grecian  its  clear  enunciation  of  a  retribution  as 

elements  have  been  exaggerated;  but  B?^-  awaiting    man,    and    in    it,s    important 

c/ier  (Lehre  vom  Logos,  pp.  .59-62)  utterly  bearing  on  the  New  Testament  revela- 

fails  in  denying  their  i)resence  altogether.  tion  of  Me  Adyoi. 


HERETICAL   AND    'OUTSIDE'   BOOKS.  33 

Inrly,  we  have''  a  Stoical  eiiuiucration  of  the  four  cardinal  virtues,      chap. 
temperance,    prudence,  justice,  and   fortitude,   and  close  b}^  it  the         HI 
riatonic  idea  of  the  soul's  pre-existence.''  and  of  earth  and  matter  ' — -r — ' 
|)ressing  it  down."     How  such  views  would  point  in  the  direction  of  i^hkJ'- vui. 
the  need  of  a  perfect  revelation  from  on  hig-h,  as  in  the  Bible,  and  of  1.  in  w.  19, 
its  rational  possibility,  need  scarcely  be  shown.  ".     . 

But  how  did  Eastern  Judaism  bear  itself  towards  this  Apocryphal 
literature  ?  We  lind  it  described  by  a  term  which  seems  to  corre- 
spond to  our  'Apocrypha,'  as  Sephay'im  Genuzim,^  'hidden  books,' 
i.e.,  (uther  such  whose  origin  was  hidden,  or,  more  likely,  books 
withdrawn  from  common  or  congregational  use.  Although  they  were, 
of  course,  carefully  distinguished  from  the  canonical  Scrii)tures,  as  not 
being  sacred,  their  use  was  not  only  allowed,  l>ut  many  of  them  are 
(pioted  in  Talmudical  writings.'  In  this  respect  they  are  placed  on 
a  very  ditt'erent  footing  from  the  so-called  Sepharim  Chitsonim^  or 
'  outside  books, '  which  probably  included  both  the  products  of  a 
certain  class  of  Je^^■ish  Hellenistic  literature,  and  the  Siphrey  Minim,  or 
writings  of  the  heretics.  Against  these  Rabbinism  can  scarcely  find 
terms  of  sufficient  violence,  even  debarring  from  share  in  the  world  to 
come  those  who  read  them."  This,  not  only  because  they  were  used  in  ■'  sanh.  100 
controversy,  but  because  their,  secret  influence  on  orthodox  Judaism 
WHS  dreaded.  For  similar  reasons,  later  Judaism  forbade  the  use  of 
the  Apocrypha  in  the  same  manner  as  that  of  the  Sepharim  Chitsonlm. 
But  their  influence  had  already  made  itself  felt.  The  Apocrypha,  the 
more  greedily  perused,  not  only  for  their  glorification  of  Judaism,  but 
that  they  were,  so  to  speak,  doubtful  reading,  which  yet  afforded  a 
glimpse  into  that  forbidden  Greek  Avorld,  opened  the  way  for  other 
Hellenistic  literature,  of  which  unacknowledged  but  frequent  traces 
occur  in  Talmudical  writings.-/ 

To  those  who  thus  sought  to  wekl  Grecian  thought  with  Hebrew 
revelation,  two  objects  would  naturally  present  themselves.  They 
must  try  to  connect  their  Greek  philosophers  with  the  Bible,  and  they 
must  find  beneath  the  letter  of  Scripture  a  deeper  meaning,  which 
would  accord  with  i)hilosophic  truth./-  So  far  as  the  text  of  Scrip- 
ture was  concerned,  they  had  a  method  ready  to  hand.  Tlie  Stoic 
])hilosophers  had  busied  themselves  in  finding  a  deeper  aUegirricul 
meaning,  especially  in  the  Avritings  of  Homer.     By  applying  it  to 

'  Some  Apocryphal  books  whicli  have  biiyger,  vol.  ii.  pp.  6()-70. 
not  been  preserved  to  ns  are  mentioned  -  Com]).  Siajfried,  Pbilo  von  Alex.  i)p. 
in    Talmndiciil    writin^-Hi,   amonj;'    tlieni  27r)-29!l,   wiio,    liowever,   perhaps   over- 
one,    'The  roll   of  tlie   bnildini;;  of   the  states  the  matter. 
Temple,'  alas,  lost  to  us!    Comp.  Ham- 


34 


Till-:  pi;i-;i'Ai;.\Ti<)\  i-oi;  tiik  (josi-kt.. 


]!()()K       mythical  stories.  <ir  to  tl.c  popular  hclicts.  and  In  traciii;^:'  the  supposed 
I  syml)()li('al  iiicaiiiiiLi'  of  names,  nnmhei's.  ikr..  it  hecaiue  easy  to  prove 

■ — .■ —  almost  anythin.u'.  or  to  extract  tVoni  these  i)hilosophical  truths  (ethical 
priiicii)les.  ami  e\cn  the  later  results  of  natural  science.'  .Such  a. 
|)rocess  was  ix'culiarly  pleasinii'  to  the  ima.ii'inat ion.  and  The  results 
alike  astouudinii'  and  <at  istactoi-y.  since  as  they  could  not  he  j)rove(l, 
so  neither  c()uld  t  hey  he  di>pro\ cd.  This  alleii'orical  met  lux P  was  the 
welcome  key  by  which  the  Hellenists  nii.LiiiT  uid(»ck  the  hidden 
treasury  of  Scriptui-e.  In  point  of  fact,  we  liml  it  appli<'d -o  early  as 
in  the  ■  ^^'isdom  of  Solomon."  ' 

But  as  yet  Hellenism  had  scarcely  lel't  the  donmin  of  sol>ei-  iuter- 
l)retation.  It  is  otherwise  in  the  letter  of  the  Pseudo-Aristeas,  to 
which  reference  has  already  heen  made.'  Here  the  wildest  syinbolism 
is  put  into  tin'  mouth  of  the  11  iiih-1'riest  Kleazar,  to  eonvinee  Aristeas 
and  his  hdlow-ambassador  that  tiie  ^Tosaic  ordiiunieeseoneernin,t^l"o<»d 
had  not  only  a  political  i-eason —to  keej)  Isi-ael  separate  from  impious 
nations — and  a  sanitary  one.  hut  chiefly  a  mystical  nieauiui^.  The 
hirds  allowed  foi'  food  wei'e  all  tame  and  ])Ui('.  and  they  fe<l  on  corn 
or  veg'etahle  pi'oducts.  the  op|)osite  hein.ii'  the  case  wit  h  t  hose  torbiddeii. 
The  first  less(m  which  this  was  inten(h:'(l  to  teach  was.  that  Israel  must 
lie  just,  and  not  seek  to  obtain  au,Si"ht  from  others  by  \i(»lence;  l)ut,  so 
to  si)eak.  imitate  the  habits  of  those  birds  Avhich  were  allowed  th<Mu. 
The  next  lesson  would  be,  that  eaeii  must  learn  to  *i'overn  his  passions 
and  inclinations.  Similarly,  the  direction  al)out  cloven  hoofs  })ointed 
to  the  need  of  makina:  separation — that  is.  between  uood  and  <'vil: 
and  that  about  chewiuii"  the  cud  to  the  nee(l  of  remembei-iiiL;'.  viz.  (Jod 


'  Comp.  Sii'i/fried,  pp.  !)-!() :  Hmi- 
vKiiuK  Eiise  Verb.  tl.  A.  Tpst.  iiiit  il.  X.. 
pp.  568-.572. 

-  This  is  to  l)e  carefully  'listliiiiUL^heil 
from  the  ty|)ical  uilenn-etation  ami  from 
the  mystical — the  type  tjein-j;  proplietic. 
tlie  mystery  spiritually  umlerstooil. 

■'  Not  to  .^peak  of  such  sounder  inter- 
pretations as  that  of  the  t)razen  serpent 
(Wis(h  xvi.  (),  7),  and  of  the  Fall  (ii.  24). 
or  of  the  view  presented  of  the  early 
history  of  the  chosen  race  in  eh.  x..  we 
may  mention  as  instances  of  alleiijorical 
interpretation  that  of  the  manna  (xvi. 
2()  2S).  and  of  the  hif<h-i)riestly  dre.^s 
(xviii.  24).  to  wliioji,  no  dou])t.  others 
miij;ht  l)e  added.  P.ut  I  caimot  lind  suf- 
ficient evidence  of  this  allegorical  method 
in  the  Wisdom  of  Jesus  the  Son  of  Siracli. 
The  reasoninic  of  Ha /(man  n  (n.  .<.,  ])p. 
")42-.i47)  .seems  to   me  irreatlv  strained. 


Of  tlie  existence  <jf  allegorical  inter- 
pretations in  the  Synoi)tic  Gospels,  or  of 
any  connection  with  Hellenism,  nuch  as 
Ilartmann.  Siegfried,  and  Loesner  (0])s. 
ad.  X.T.  e  Phil.  Alex. )  put  into  them,  1 
cannot,  on  examination,  discover  any 
evidence.  Similarity  of  expressions,  or 
even  of  thouglit.  afford  no  evidence  of 
inward  comiectlon.  Of  the  Go.spel  ])v 
St.  John  we  shall  speak  in  the  sequel. 
In  the  Paul  ne  Epistles  we  find,  as  might 
be  expected,  some  allegorical  interpre- 
tations, chiefly  in  those  to  tlie  Corin- 
thians, perhai)s  owing  to  the  connection 
of  that  church  witli  Apollos.  Comp. 
here  1  Cor.  ix.  0;  x.  4  (Phllo,  Quod  de- 
ter. i)Otiori  insid.  ?>\]:  1  Cor.  iii.  1(1: 
Gal.  iv.  21.  Of  the  Epi.slle  to  the  H«'.- 
brews  ami  tlie  Ajiocalypse  we  cannot 
here  speak. 
<  See  )).  2."). 


Ai,iJ-;r;(>i;icAi.  intki!Imm-:tati(>ns. 


35 


.•111(1  His  will.'  Ill  siicli  iiiaiiiici-.  nccoi-dini:-  to  Aristcns.  did  tlic  Iliiiii 
J'ricst  go  tlii'oiiuii  t  lie  ciitiili tunc  df  things  lorliiddcii.  ;iiid  of  ;niiiii;ds  to 
l)e  sacriticcd,  sliDwiug  TrDiii  their  •  ]iid(h'ii  iiicniiing  '  llic  iiinjcsty  ;iiid 
sanctity  ol"  the  Law  . ' 

Tliis  was  ail  iiiii)()rtaiit  line  to  take,  and  it  diU'crcd  in  |)riuciple 
IVom  tlic  allegorical  method  adopteil  by  the  i^astein  .lews.  Xot  only 
the  horslicij  llcsli  n  iiii)th."'  <)\'  >i'x\vv\\in-^  out  ol'tlie  suhtielies  oi' ScripturO, 
ofthcir  indications,  hut  e\'eii  theoi'dinai'V  llaggadist  employed,  indeed, 
allegoric  interpretations.  Thereby  Akiba  vindicated  tor  the  -Song of 
Songs"  its  place  in  the  Canon.  Did  not  Script  ure  say :  -One  thing- 
spake  (iod,  twofold  is  what  I  heard,'  '  and  did  not  this  ini])ly  a  twofold 
meaning;  nay,  could  not  the  Torali  be  exi)laiiied  by  many  ditferent 
niethods?'  AVhat,  for  exami)le.  was  the  Avater  which  Israel  sought  in 
the  wilderness,  orthe  bread  and  raiment  which  .lacoli  aske(l  in  Bethel, 
but  the  Tuvdli  and  the  dignity  which  it  conferred y  But  in  all  these, 
and  inminieralile  similar  instances,  the  allegorical  intcr])retation  was 
only  an  ap]>lication  of  Scrii)ture  for  homiletical  imrposes,  not  a  search- 
ing into  a  rdtioiutlc  beneath,  such  as  that  of  the  Jlellenists.  The 
latter  the  Rabbis  would  have  utterly  repudiated,  on  their  express  jirin- 
cil)le  that  •S(jiptnre  goes  not  lieyond  its  jilain  meaning. "•'  They 
sternly  insisted,  that  we  ought  not  to  search  into  the  ulterior  object 
and  rationale  of  a  law,  but  simply  obey  it.  Hut  it  was  this  very 
/■(itioiKifc  of  tho  Law  which  the  Alexandrians  sought  to  tind  under  its 
letter.  It  was  in  this  sense  that  Aristobulus.  a  Hellenist  Jew  of 
Alexandria,'' sought  to  explain   Scrii»ture.      Only  a    fragment   of  his 

'  A  sniiilar  jn-inciiile  applied  to  tlif  of  God  it^  like  a  liaiiinier  that  breaks  llic 
l)r<)liibitioii  of  siicii  .«pecie.s  as  the  mouse  rock  hi  a  tliou.saiid  i)ii'('es.  Coiiip. 
or  the  weasel,    not   only   because   tliey       Kasbi  on  Gen.  .xxxiii.  20 


CHAl'. 


destroyetl  everythuig,  but  l)ecause  the 
latter,  from  its  mode  of  coiiceiviiiii-  and 
bearing,  symbolized  listening'  to  evil 
tales,  and  exaggerated,  lyiiiii.  or  mali- 
cious sjieeoh. 

-  Of  course  this  iiietlnxl  is  conslaiiliy 
ailopted  l)y  .losephus.  Coinp.  for  exani- 
l)le,  Ant.  iii.   1.  (i:  7.  7. 

■'  Or  Dorshp.ji  ('luimiiroth,  searchers  of 
dlfticult  passages,  '/.miz.  Gottesd.  \'orlr. 
p.  .'52:^,  note  J). 

^  The  seventy  lan2;ua,2;es  in  wliicli  tlie 


■'  Pei'haiis  we  on.iiht  here  to  point  out, 
tuie  of  the  most  imiiortant  principles  of 
Katibinism,  which  has  ])een  almost  en- 
tirely overlookeil  in  modern  criticism  of 
the  Talmud.  It  is  tliis:  tJiat  any  ordi- 
nance, not  only  of  the  l)iviiH>  law,  iiut  of 
tlie  Ivabbis.  even  thoui;;]!  only  ^-iveii  for 
a  particular  time  or  occasion,  or  for  a 
speciid  reason,  remains  in  full  force  for 
all  time  unless  it  be  expressly  recalled 
I  IJetsah  a  A).  Tlius  Maimonides  (8ei)lier 
la   .Mitsv.)  declares  the  law  to  extiriiatn 


T.aw  was  sui)|iosed  to  have  lieen  written  tlie  ranaanites  as  continuinij:  in  its  obii 
below  Mount  Kbal  (Sotah  vii.  5).  lean-  .tiations.  The  inferences  as  to  the  pcr- 
not  help  feeling'  this  may  in  part  also  pctxal  ohJi'idtloii.  not  only  of  the  cere- 
refer  to  the  various  modes  of  interpret-  monial  law.  but  of  sacrifices,  will  Ix* 
inij;  Holy  Scriiiture.  and  that  there  is  obvious,  and  their  bearing- on  the  Jewish 
an  allusion  to  this  in  Shabb.  88  b,  where  controversy  need  not  be  explained. 
I's.  Ixviii.  12.  and  Jer.  xxiii.  29.  are  Conip.  Chief  Rabbi  IlohJheim.  A.  Cere- 
ipioted.  the  latter  to  siiow  that  Ilie  woivl  monial  Geset/.  in  Messiasreicli.  ]s4.^. 


"Ps.  LNii.ll; 
Saiili.  ::4  .' 


THE  TREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 


BOOK  work,  which  seems  to  have  been  a  Coinineutary  on  the  Pentateuch, 
1  iledicated  to  King  Ptolemy  (Philometor),  has  been  preserved  to  us  (by 

— -,- —  Clement  of  Alexandria,  and  l)y  J^usebius") .  According  to  Clement 
of  Alexandria,  his  aim  was,  '  to  bring  the  Peripatetic  philosophy  out 
of  the  law  of  Moses,  and  out  of  the  other  prophets.'  Thus,  when  avc 
read  that  God  stood,  it  meant  the  stable  order  of  the  world;  that  He 
created  the  world  in  six  days,  the  orderly  succession  of  tinu^;  the  rest 
of  the  Sabbath,  the  preservation  of  what  was  created.  And  in  such 
manner  could  the  whole  system  of  Aristotle  be  found  in  the  Bil)le. 
But  how  was  this  to  be  accounted  for?  Of  course,  the  Bible  had  not 
learned  from  Aristotle,  but  he  and  all  the  other  philosophers  had  learned 
from  the  Bible.  Thus,  according  to  Aristobulus,  Pythagoras,  Plato, 
and  all  the  other  sages  had  really  learned  from  Moses,  and  thel)r()ken 
rays  found  in  their  writings  were  united  in  all  their  glory  in  thcTorah. 

It  was  a  tempting  path  on  which  to  enter,  and  one  on  which  there 
was  no  standing  still.  It  only  remained  to  give  fixedness  to  the  allegori- 
cal method  by  reducing  it  to  certain  principles,  or  canons  of  criticism, 
and  to  form  the  heterogeneous  mass  of  Grecian  philosoi)hemes  and 
Jewish  theologuraena  into  a  compact,  if  not  homogeneous  system. 
This  was  the  work  of  Pliilo  of  Alexandria,  born  about  20  B.C.  It 
concerns  us  not  here  to  inquire  what  were  the  intermediate  links  be- 
tween Aristobulus  and  Philo.  Another  :md  more  important  point 
claims  our  attention.  If  ancient  Greek  ])hil()so])hy  knew  the  teacliing 
of  Moses,  where  was  the  historic  evidence  for  it?  If  such  did  not 
exist,  it  must  someh(3w  be  invented.  Orpheus  was  a  name  which  had 
always  lent  itself  to  literary  fraud, ''and  so  Aristobulus  boldly  produces 
(whether  of  his  o^v^n  or  of  others'  making)  a  number  of  spurious 
citations  from  Hesiod,  Homer,  Linus,  but  especially  from  Orpheus,  all 
Biblical  and  Jewish  in  their  cast.  Aristobulus  was  neither  the  first 
nor  the  last  to  commit  such  fraud.  The  Jewish  Sibyl  boldly,  and, 
as  we  shall  see,  successfully  personated  the  heathen  oracles.  And 
tliis  opens,  generally,  quite  a  vista  of  Jewish-Grecian  literature. 
In  the  second,  and  even  in  the  tliird  century  before  Christ,  there  were 
Hellenist  historians,  such  as  Eupolemus,  Artapanus,  Demetrius,  and 
Aristeas;  tragic  and  epic  poets,  such  as  p]zekiel,  Pseudo-Philo,  and 
Theodotus,  who,  after  the  manner  of  t)ie  ancient  classical  writers,  but 
for  their  own  i)urposes,  described  certain  periods  of  Jewish  history,  or 
sang  of  such  themes  as  the  Exodus,  Jerusalem,  or  the  rape  of  Dinah. 

The  mention  of  these  spurious  quotations  naturally  leads  >is  to 
another  class  of  spurious  literature,  which,  although  not  Hellenistic, 
has  many  elements  in  common  with  it,  and,  even  Avhen  originating 


PSEUl)KPI(il{Al'HlC    LITEKATURE.  37 

with  Palestinian  Jew!^  is  not  Palestinian,  nor  yet  has  been  i)res('rve(l  in      chap. 
its  language.     We  allude  to  what  are  known  as  the  I'seudcijigraphie,         HI 
or  Pseudonymic  Writings,  so  called  because,  with  one  exception,  they  ^- — ^.^-^ 
bear   false  names  of  authorship.     It   is    difficult    to    arrange    thcni 
otherwise  than  chronologically — and  even  here  the  greatest  dirt'ei-ence 
of  opinions  prevails.     Their  general  character  (with  one  exception) 
may  be  described  as  anti-heathen,  perliai)s  missionary,  hut  chietly  as 
Apocalyptic.     They  are  attempts  at  taking  up  the  key-note  struck 
in  the  prophecies  of  Daniel;  rather,  we  should  say,  to  lift  the  veil 
only  partially  raised  by  him,  and  to  point — alike  as  concerned  Israel, 
and  the  kingdoms  of  the  world — to  the  past,  the  present,  and  the 
future,  in  the  light  of  the  Kingship  of  the  Messiah.     Here,  if  any- 
where, we  might  expect  to  find  traces  of  New  Testament  teaching; 
:ind  yet,  side  by  side  with  frequent  similarity  of  form,  the  greatest 
ditierence — we  had  almost  said  contrast — in  spirit,  prevails. 

Many  of  these  works  must  have  perished.  In  one  of  the  latest 
of  them  ^  they  are  put  down  at  seventy,  probably  a  round  number,  MEsdras 
having  reference  to  the  supposed  number  of  the  nations  of  the  earth, 
or  to  every  possible  mode  of  inter])reting  Scripture.  They  are  de- 
scribed as  intended  for  'the  wise  among  the  people,'  probably  those 
whom  St.  Paul,  in  the  Christian  sense,  designates  as  '  knowing  the 
time'"^  of  the  Advent  of  the  Messiah.  Viewed  in  this  light,  they  ''Rom.xm. 
embody  the  ardent  aspirations  and  the  inmost  hopes  ^  of  those  who 
l(»ngcd  for  the  'consolation  of  Israel,'  as  they  understood  it.  Nor 
should  we  judge  their  personations  of  authorship  according  to  our 
Western  ideas.''  Pseudonymic  writings  were  common  in  that  age, 
and  a  Jew  might  perhaps  plead  that,  even  in  the  Old  Testament, 
l)ooks  had  been  headed  by  names  which  confessedly  were  not  those 
of  their  authors  (such  as  Samuel,  Ruth,  Esther).  If  those  inspired 
poets  who  sang  in  the  spirit,  and  echoed  the  strains,  of  Asaph,  adoi)te(l 
that  designation,  and  the  sons  of  Korah  preferred  to  be  known  l)y 
that  title,  might  not  they,  who  couhl  no  longer  claim  the  authority 
of  inspiration  seek  attention  for  tlieir  utterances  by  adopting  the 
names  of  those  in  whose  spirit  they  professed  to  write  if 

The  most  interesting  as  well  as  the  oldest    of  these  l)ooks  arc 

'  The  Katpo?  of  St.  Paul  seems  here  the    Psendepisrapha.     Their    ardour   of 

u.-(ed  HI  exactly  the  .same  sense  as  iu  later  expectancy  ill  ac;rees  with  the   modem 

Hel)rew  ]'^t.     The  LXX.  render  it  so  in  theories,  which  would  eliminate,  if  pos- 

tive  passages  (Ezr.  v.  8;  Dan.  iv.  .'5:^;  vi.  sible,  the   Messianic  hope  from  ancient 

10 ;  vii.  22,  25).  Judaism. 

-  Of   course,   it   suits   .Jewish  writers.  ^  Comp.  Dnimimn  iu   Ilerzoij's  Real- 

like  Dr.  .Tost,   to  dei)recate  the  value  of  Kncykl.  vol.  xii.  p.  :*>(>1. 


11 


38 


TiiK  ri;i:i"Ai;ATi(»N  foi;  tiik  cospkl. 


BOOK       tliosc  known    sis   I  lie   Hook  of  Enoch,  the  Sibij/Jiiic  Oracles.  tln'Rsalter 
I  of  Solomon,    ;iinl   tlic  Jlook  of  ■tifbilccs.  or   Lilflc   dciicsis.      ( hily  the 

■ — , — •     bricrcst  notice  of  tluMU  cjin  here  find  w  jjliicc' 

Tlic  Hook  of  KuocJk  the  oldest  ]);ii-t,<  of  wliicli  date  a  criitui-y  and 
a  hair  Ix'forc  Christ,  comes  to  lis  from  Palestine.  It  jirofesscs  to  be 
a  vision  vouchsafed  to  tlmt  I'ati-iai'cli.  and  tells  of  the  fall  of  the  Angels 
and  its  ('(msequeiices,  and  of  what  he  saw  and  heard  in  his  ra])t 
journeys  throtiii-h  heaven  and  earth.  Of  dee])est,  thouii-h  otlen  sad, 
interest,  is  winit  it  says  of  tlie  Kin.u'dom  of  Heaven,  of  the  advent 
of  .Messiah  and  His  Kin,irdom.  and  of  the  last  tliinji-s. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  Sibi/lli/ic  Oracles,  of  which  the  oldest  ))or- 
tions  date  trom  about  KiO  B.C.  come  to  us  from  K«>Ti)t.  it  is  to  the 
latter  only  that  we  here  i-efer.  'fheir  most  interestini--  i)ai'ts  are  also 
the  most  characteristic.  In  them  the  ancient  heathen  myths  of  the 
first  a.ii'es  of  man  are  wehhnl  toiicther  with  Old  Testament  notices, 
while  the  heathen  Theoii'ony  is  recast  in  a  .lewisli  mould.  Thus  Noah 
becomes  Uranos,  Sheni  Saturn,  Jlam  Titan,  and  Jai)lieth  Japetus. 
Similarly,  we  have  fraiiinents  of  ancient  heathen  oracles,  so  to  speak, 
recast  in  a  Jewish  edition.  The  straiiii'est  circumstance  is,  that  the 
utterances  of  this  .hidaisin.i;-  and  .lewish  Sibyl  seem  to  have  passe<| 
as  the  oracles  of  the  ancient  Krythr;ean,  which  had  i)redicted  the  fall 
of  Troy,  and  as  those  of  the  Sibyl  of  Cunue,  which,  in  the  infancy  of 
Rome,  Tarquinius  Superlnis  had  deposited  in  the  Cai)itoI. 

The  collection  of  eighteen  hymns  known  as  the  Psalter  of  Solon  1.011 
dates  from  more  than  half  a  century  before  our  era.  N<j  doubt  the 
original  was  Hebrew,  though  they  breathe  a  somewhat  Hellenistic 
spirit.  They  express  ardent  Messianic  asi)irations.  and  a  tiini  faith 
in  the  Resurrection,  and  in  eternal  i-ewards  and  i)unishments. 

Diticrent  in  character  from  the  preceding  woiks  is  Tin-  flook  of 
Jubilees — so  called  from  its  chi'onological  arrangement  into  •.Jtd>ilee- 
periods  ■ — or  •  fJttle  Genesis.'  It  is  chiefly  a  kind  of  legendary  suj)- 
plenient  to  the  Hook  of  (irenesis,  intended  to  e.xjdain  some  of  its  historic 
difficulties,  and  to  till  \\\)  its  historic  Incnna'.  It  was  probably  written 
about  the  time  of  Christ — and  this  gives  it  a  sp(M'ial  interest — by  a 
ralestinian,  and  in  Hebrew,  m  rathei-  Aranuean.  But.  like  tlie  rest 
of  the  Apocryphal  and  Pseudei)igra])hic  literature  which  conu^s  from 
Palestine,  or  was  originally  written  in  Hebrew,  we  ])ossess  it  no  longer 
in  that  language,  but  only  in  translaticm. 

If  from  this  brief  review  ol'  Hellenist  and  Pseudepigraphic  lite- 
rature we  turn  to  take  a  reti-os})eci.  we  can  scarcely  fail  to  })er<MMve, 

'    Fdl-  Jl  lirict'   review   of   the   •  I'>eu<le)rn;l:i|iliic  WritilliTS,'  StH'  Appelltliv   !. 


TIIK    OLD    AND    TIIK    NKW. 


89 


on  the  one  hiiud.  llic   (IcvclopnuMit    <»l   the   old.  iiiid   on  tlic  otlicr  tlic      ciiAl'. 
])i'('i)iii-ation   foi-    tlic    new — in    otlici-  words,    the   iiirand    oxpcctiincv         HI 
iiwnkcncd.  jind  the  li'i'and  propai'ation  made.      One  stc])  only  ri'iiniincd     — 
to  coniplctc    what    llcllcnisin    had  already  bcii-uii.      That   coniplction 
cauic  thi'oniih   one   who.  althonii-h   hiniself  nntonchcd    1)\  the  (iospcl. 
pci'liaps  more  than  any  othor  prepared  alike   his  co-reli^ionisls  flu^ 
Jews,  and  his  eonntrynien  the  (Jreeks,  for  the  new  teaehinii-.  wliieh, 
indeed,  was  presented   by  many  of  its  early  advocates   in  the  Ibrins 
which  they  had  learned  trom  him.     That  man  was  IMiilo  the  Jew.  of 
Alexandria. 


40  THE   PKEPAKATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

PHILO  OF  ALEXANDRIA,  THE  KABBLS,  AND  THE  GOSPELS — THE  FINAL  DE- 
VELOPMENT OF  HELLENISM  IN  ITS  RELATION  TO  RABBINISM  AND  THE 
GOSPEL    ACCORDING    TO    ST.    JOHN. 

BOOK      It  is   strange    how   little  we    know  ot  the  personal  history  of  the 
I  greatest  ot"  uninsi)ire(l  Jewish  writers  of  old,  though  he  occupied  so 

/prominent  a  position  in  his  time.'     Philo  was   born   in   Alexandria, 
atK)ut  the  year  20  l)efore  Christ.     He  was  a  descendant  of  Aaron,  and 
belonged  to  one  of  the  wealthiest  and  most  intluential  families  among 
jjo^.    the  Jewish  merchant-princes  of  Egypt.     His  l)rother  was  the  politi- 
^^/>n  •'*fcal  head  of  that  community  in  Alexandria,  and  he  himself  on  one 
I    %\  fl5>^   occasion  represented  his  co-religionists — though  unsuccessful!}' — at 
A^-Wmio       Rome,''  as  the  head  of  an  embassy  to  entreat  the  Emperor  Caligula 
for  protection  from  the  persecutions  consequent  on  the  Jewish  re- 
^  2;^  sistance  to  placing  statues  of  the  Emperor  in  their  Synagogues.   But 

it  is  not  with  Philo,  the  wealthy  aristocratic  Jew  of  Alexandria,  but 
with  the  great  writer  and  thinker  who,  so  to  speak,  completed  Jew- 
ish Hellenism,  that  we  have  here  to  do.  Let  us  see  what  was  his 
relation  alike  to  heathen  philosophy  and  to  the  Jewish  faith,  of  both 
of  which  he  was  the  ardent  advocate,  and  how  in  his  system  he  com- 
bined the  teaching  of  the  two. 

To  begin  with.  Philo  united  in  rare  measure  Greek  learning  with 
Jewish  enthusiasm.  In  his  writings  he  very  frequently  uses  classi- 
cal modes  of  expression:  -  he  names  not  fewer  than  sixty-four  Greek 
wi-iters;^  and  he  either  alludes  to,  or  quotes  frequently  from,  such 
sources  as  Homer,  Hesiod.  Pindar,  Solon,  thegreat  Greek  tragedians, 
Plato,  and  others.  But  to  him  these  men  were  scarcely  'heathen.' 
He  had  sat  at  their  feet,  and  learned  to  weave  a  system  from  Pytha- 
goras,   Plato,    Aristotle,   and  the  Stoics.     The  gatherings  of  these 

•  Hausrath  (N.T.  Zeitjr.  vol.  ii.  p.  222  collected  a  vast  number  of  iiarallel  ex- 
Ac.)    has    given   a    hiijiily   imaginative  pressions,  cliiefly  from  Plato  anrl  Plntarch 
picture   of  Philo — as,  indeed,   of  many  (p)).  .30-47). 
other  persons  and  things.                         "  •■  Comi).  Grossmroiu,  Qua'st.  Phil.  1.  \\ 

-  Siegfried  has,  witli  immense  lal)oi-,  5  &c. 


PHILO'S   CANONS   OF   INTERPRETATION.  41 

philosophers  were  '  holy,'  and  riato  was  '  the  great.'     But  holier  than     cHAP. 
all  was  the  gathering  of  the  true  Israel;  and  incomparably  greater        TV 
than  any,  Moses.     From  him  had  all  sages  learned,  and  with  him     — .' — ' 
alone  was  all  truth  to  be  found — not,  indeed,  in  the  letter,  but  under 
the  letter,  of  Holy  Scripture.     If  in  Numb,  xxiii.  19  we  read  'God 
is  not  a  man,'  and  in  Deut.   i.  81  that  the  Lord  was  *  as  a  man,'  did 
it 'not  imply,  on  the  one  hand,  the  revelation  of  absolute  truth  bj^         ~/2jZ. 
God,  and,  on  the  other,  accommodation  to  those  who  were  weak?>-i^^  ' 

Here,  then,  was  the  principle  of  a  twofold  interpretation  of  the  Word^  ^^^^*'*^ 
of  God — the  literal  and  the  allegorical.     The  letter  of  the  text  must^7*^^^!f'*^ 
be  held  fast;  and  Bil)lical  personages  and  histories  were  real.     But^JS^^^*'^^?''^ 
only  narrow-minded  slaves  of  the  letter  would  stop  here;  the  more  so,  *-'*''^**j^^"*^ 
as  sometimes  the  literal  meaning  alone  would  be  tame,  even  absurd ;^*^^ 
while  the  allegorical  interpretation  gave  the  true  sense,  even  thougl^^i^^^T^;**'*^ 
it  might  occasionally  run  counter  to  the  letter.     Thus,  the  patriarchs  ^*'*'^^n^~'  T  ^ 
represented  states  of  the  soul;  and,  whatever  the  letter  might  bear,  ^^^*  ^** 
Joseph  represented  one  given  to  the  fleshly,  whom  his  brothers  rightly 
hated;  Simeon  the  soul  aiming  after  the  higher;  the  killing  of  the 
Egyptian  by  Moses,  the  subjugation  of  passion,  and  so  on.     But  this 
allegorical  interpretation — l)y  the  side  of  the  literal  (the  Peshat  of  the 
Palestinians) — though  only  for  the  few,  was  not  arbitrary.     It  had  its 
'  laws, '  and  '  canons  ' — some  of  which  excluded  the  literal  interpreta- 
tion, while  others  admitted  it  by  the  side  of  the  higher  meaning.' 

To  begin  with  the  former:  the  literal  sense  must  be  wholly  set 
aside,  when  it  implied  anything  unworthy  of  the  Deity,  anything  un- 
meaning, impossible,  or  contrary  to  reason.  Manifestly,  this  canon, 
if  strictly  a])plied,  would  do  away  not  only  with  all  anthropomorphisms, 
l)utcutthc  knot  wherever  difficulties  seemed  insupera])le.  Again,  Philo 
would  find  an  allegorical,  along  with  the  literal,  interpretation  indicated 
in  the  reduplication  of  a  word,  and  in  seemingly  superfluous  words, 
particles,  or  expressions.-  These  could,  of  course,  only  bear  such  a 
meaning  on  Philo's  assumption  of  the  actual  inspiration  of  the  LXX. 
version.  Similarlv,  inexact  accordance  with  a  Talmudical  canon,''  'BabaK. 
any  repetition  of  what  had  been  already  stated  would  point  to  some- 
thing new.  These  were  comparatively  sober  rules  of  exegesis.  Not 
so  the  licence  Avhich  he  claimed  of  freely  altering  the  i)unctuation  ^  of 

'  In  this  sketch  of  the  system  of  Phih)  ing  to  some  special  meaning,  since  there 
I  iiave  Uirii:ely  availed  myself  of  the  was  not  a  word  or  particle  in  Scrip- 
careful  analysis  of  Siegfried.  tare  without  a   detinite    meaning    and 

^  It  should  be  noted    that   these  are  object, 

also  Talmudical  canons,  not  indeed  for  -^  To   illusti'ate   what    use    might    be 

allegorical  interpretation,  but  as  point-  made  of  such   alterations,   the   Midrasb 


w  a 


42 


■I'liK  i'i.'i:i'AiiATi().\  I'oi;  TiiK  (;(»si'i:l. 


IJOOl 


scutciici's.  :iii(l  his  notion  tlinl,  ifonc  I'loni  ;iiuon<i'  several  synonymous 
words  was  chosen  in  a  |»assa^'e,  this  pointed  to  some  si)ecial  meauing 
attaeliini"'  to  it.  Kven  more  extruva^'nnt  was  the  iden^  thi\t_ii_w(.>21^ 
whic_Uj^-etirred  in  the  LXX.  mi<i'ht  beititerijreted  according  to  every 
shade jjt'  meaning  which  it  bore  in  the  Greek,  and  that  even  another 
meaning  might  lie  given  it  by  slightly  altering  tlie  letters.  However, 
like  otiier  of  Philo"s  allegorical  canons,  these  were  also  adoptcil  by  the 
l\alil)is.  and  Ilaggadic  interi)retations  were  Ircquentl}'  i)reiaced  by: 
■  Head  not  thus — but  thus.'  If  sucli  violence  might  l)e  done  to  the 
text,  we  need  not  wonder  at  interpretations  based  on  a  })lay  upon 
words,  or  even  upon  ])arts  of  a  W(n*d.  Of  course,  all  seemingly  strange 
or  [x'cuiiar  modes  of  ex])ression,  or  of  designation,  occurring  in 
Scriptui-e,  must  have  their  special  nu^aning.  and  so  also  every  particle, 
adverb,  or  i)reposition.  Again,  the  position  of  a  verse,  its  succes.sion 
by  another,  the  ajjparently  unaccountable  i)rescnce  or  absence  of  a 
word,  might  furnish  hints  for  some  deeper  meaning,  and  so  would 
an  unexpected  singular  for  a  i)]ural,  or  vice  versa,  the  use  of  a  tense, 
even  the  gender  of  a  word.  Most  serious  of  all,  an  allegorical  inter- 
pretation might  l)e  again  employed  as  the  basis  of  another.  • 

We  repeat,  that  these  allegorical  canons  of  Philo  are  essentially 
the  sanu'  as  tlu)se  of  Jewish  traditionalism  in  the  Haggadah,^  only 
tlie  latter  were  not  rationalising,  and  far  more  brilliant  in  their  api)li- 
cation.-'  In  another  resjjcct  also  the  ralestinian  had  the  advantage 
of  the  Alexandrian  exegesis.  Reverently  and  cautiously  it  indicated 
what  might  be  omitted  in  public  reading,  and  Avliy;  what  expressions 
of  the  original  might  be  moditied  by  the  Meturgenuin.  and  how;  so 
as  to  avoid  alike  one  danger  by  giving  a  passage  in  its  literality,  and 
another  l)y  adding  to  the  sacred  text,  or  conveying  a  wrong  impres- 
sion of  the  Divine  Being,  or  else  giving  occasion  to  the  unlearned  and 


(Ber.  11.  (ij)  would  have  us  puuctuatc 
Gen.  xxvii.  19,  as  follows:  'Aud  Jacob 
said  unto  his  father,  I  (viz.  am  he  who 
will  receive  the  ten  conniiandmeuts) — 
(V»ut)  Esau  (is)  thy  firstborn.'  In  Yalkut 
there  is  the  still  more  curious  exiilauation 
that  in  heaven  the  soul  of  Jacob  was  the 
firstborn! 

'  Kach  of  these  positions  is  capable  of 
ample  proof  from  Philo's  writini^s.  as 
shown  by  Siet:;fried.  But  only  a  Ijare 
statement  of  these  canons  was  here  pos- 
sible. 

'•'  Comp.  our  above  outline  with  the 
'XXV.  thesi's  demodis  et  formulis  (piibus 
pr.  ib'hr.  doctorcs  SS.  intei-pretari  etc. 
soliti    fuei'uiit."  in    Surcnhusius,  BifJXoi 


KaraXXayi}?,  pf).  57-88. 

^  For  a  comparison  between  Philo  and 
Rabbinic  theolof2:y,  see  Api)endix  II.: 
'  Philo  and  Rabbinic  Theology.'  Freuden- 
thal  (Hellen.  Studien,  pp.  67  &c.)  ai)tly 
designates  this  mixture  of  the  two  as 
'Hellenistic  Midrash,'  it  beinjz;  dittlcult 
sometimes  to  distinguish  whether  if 
originated  in  Palestine  or  in  Egvpt.  or 
else  in  both  independently.  Freudenthal 
ijives  a  number  of  curious  instances  in 
whicli  Hellenism  and  Rabl)inism  agree  in 
their  interpretations.  For  other  iiUe- 
restinji;  conu'tirisons  ])etween  Haj;'<:;adic 
interprt^talions  and  those  of  Philo,  see 
Joel,  Bliek  in  d.  Ueliiiions<?esch.  i.  p.  lis 
«fec. 


niii.o  AM)  THK  i;ai;i!Is.  43 

iitivv.MT  ol'  I )(■(•( tmiiiij,-  ciitaii.iihMl   in   (Ijiii^croiis  sprciihitioiis.      .Icwisli      cilAl'. 
tiiiditinii   Iktc  hivs  down  some   |)i-iiici[)l('s  uliicli  would   Ix-  of  uTCiit  >^' 

|»riH'tical    use.      Tlius  we   uvv  told.'  tluit  Scripliiic  uses  t  lie  modes  of    - —    — 
('X|>n\ssioii  ('oiiiiiiou  Jiiiioiiii'  iiKMi.      'I'liis  would,  of  course,  iurlude  nil   " '''i- -1 '- 
iiiitliropoiiiorpliisuis.      A^aiii.  soinetiiues  witli  coiisidei-nble  iii,u-eniiit_\ . 
a   suggcstiiMi   is  taken   tr(»ui   a  word,  -iieli   as  that    .Moses   knew  the 
s(!r[>(Mit  was  to  bo  made  of  brass  from  the  simihirity  of  the  two  word.- 
{nachfish.  a   serpent,  and    iicchD.shrf/i,   brass.''     Similarh.  it   is  uoteil    'isn.  1;.  :ii 
that  Scripture  uses  eiiplieniistie  lan.iiuaiic  so  as  to  preserve  the  ^ui-eat- 
e.st  delicacy.'      Tliese    instances    miuiit    lie   niidt  iplie(l,   but    the  above   ■  u.'i-.  u.  th 
will  Huttice. 

In  his  symlx^lical  interpretation-  i'hilo  only  paitially  took  the 
same  road  as  the  Rabbis.  The  .symbolism  of  nnmlx'i's  and.  so  far  as 
the  Sanctuary  was  concerned,  that  of  colours,  and  even  materials, 
may,  indeed,  be  said  to  have  its  foundation  in  the  Old  Testament 
itself.  The  same  remark  a])plies  partially  to  that  of  names.  The 
Ilabbis  cei'tainly  so  inti-i'preted  them.'  iSut  the  api)lication  which 
I'hilo  nnnle  of  this  symbolism  was  very  ditlerent.  Everythinji'  became 
synd)olicaI  in  his  hands,  if  it  suited  his  pur])ose:  numbers  (in  a  very 
arbitrary  nmnner),V)easts.  birds, fowls,  ci-eejiinu'  thing-s,  ])lants. stones, 
elements,  substances,  conditions,  e\en  >c\ — ;ind  so  a  term  or  an  ex- 
]H'Ossion  miii'ht  even  have  several  and  contradictory  im-aninii's.  from 
which  the  intei'jjreter  was  at  liberty  to  choose. 

From  the  consideration  of  the  method  by  which  Philo  derived 
Irom  Scriptures  his  theological  views,  we  turn  to  a  brief  analysis  of 
these  views.'-' 

1.  Theology. — In  reference  to  Uod,  we  tind,  side  by  side,  the 
apparently  contradictory  views  of  the  Platonic  and  the  Stoic  schools. 
Following-  the  former,  the  sharpest  distinction  was  drawn  between 
(rod  and  the  world,  (xod  existed  neither  in  space,  nor  in  time;  He 
had  neither  Inunan  ipialities  nor  atiections:  in  fact.  He  was  without 

'  Ttius,  to  give  only  a  few  out  <tf  many  is  tlie  curious  .<ynil)olical   derivation  of 

examples,  Ruth  is  derived  from  rc<r?v///,  to  MfphfhosJK'th.  wiio  is  sujjposed  to  have 

satiate  to  give  to  drink,  because  David,  set   David  ritflit  on  lialai<liio  ([uestions. 

her  descendant,   satiated  God  with  his  -At-.  MippihosJiefh:  '  frommynioutli  sluiin- 

Psalms  of  in-aise  (Ber.  1  h).     Here  the  in<;.' 'l)ecause  he  put  to  slumu' tiie  face 

principle   of  the   significance   of   Bible-  of  David  in  tlie  Halakliah."     Similarly  in 

names  is  deduced   from  Ps.  xlvi.  8  (9  in  Siphre  (Par.    Beliaalotlieklia.  od.   Fritnl- 

the  Hebrew):   'Come,  beliold  the  works  mann,  p.  20  r/)  we  liave  very  tjeautiful 

of  the  Lord,  who  hath  made  names  on  and     inijeuious    interpretations    of    the 

earth,'  the  word  'desolations,'  snaMoTU.  names  liet'el.  Hohuh  and  Jethro. 
being  altered  to  shcmoth,  'names.'    In  -  It  would  be  imi)ossil)Ie  here  to  give 

i;eneral,  that  section,  from   Ber.  :'.  h.  to  tiie  references,  wliicli  woidd   occui»y  too 

tlie  end  of  8  (/,  is  full  of  Hafi<i;adic  Scrip-  much  space, 
ture  interpretations.     On  fol.  4  a  there 


44  THE    PKEPAKATION    FOR    THE    GOSPEL. 

IJOOK      any  qualities  {aTtoios),   and  even  without    any    name    {apprfTog)'^ 
I  lienee,  \vlu)lly  uncognisable  by  man  {cxKaraKifTtrog).    Thus,  clianging 

^ -r —    the  punctuation  and  the  accents,  the  LXX.  of  Gen.  iii.  9  was  made  to 

read:  'Adam,  thou  art  somewhere;'  but  God  liad  no  somewhere,  as 
Adam  seemed  to  think  when  he  hid  himsell'  from  Him.  In  the 
above  sense,  also,  V.x.  iii.  14,  and  vi.  .3,  were  explained,  and  the  two 
names  Elolihit  and  Jehova](Aw\o\v^Q\\  really  to  the  two  supreme  Divine 
'Potencies,'  while  the  fact  ofGod'sl:)eing  uncognisable  appeared  from 
Ex.  XX.  21. 

But  side  by  side  with  this  we  have,  to  save  the  Jewish,  or  rather 
Old  Testament,  idea  of  creation  and  providence,  the  Stoic  notion  of 
God  as  immanent  in  the  world — in  fact,  as  that  alone  which  is  real 
in  it,  as  always  working:  in  short,  to  use  his  own  Pantheistic  expres- 
sion, as  '  Himself  one  and  the  all '  {eig  Kai  to  nav).  Chief  in  His 
Being  is  His  goodness,  the  forthgoing  of  which  was  the  ground  of 
creation.  Only  the  good  comes  from  Him.  AVith  matter  He  can 
have  nothing  to  do — hence  the  plural  number  in  the  account  of 
creation.  (Jod  only  created  the  soul,  and  that  only  of  the  good. 
In  the  sense  of  being  'immanent,'  God  is  everywhere — nay,  all 
things  are  really  only  in  Him,  or  rather  He  is  the  real  in  all.  But 
chiefly  is  God  the  wellspring  and  the  light  of  the  soul — its  'Saviour' 
from  the  '  Egypt '  of  passion.  Two  things  follow.  With  Pliilo's  ideas 
of  the  separation  between  God  and  matter,  it  was  impossible  always 
to  account  for  miracles  or  interpositions.  Accordingly,  these  are 
sometimes  allegorised,  sometimes  rationalistically  explained.  Furthei', 
the  God  of  Philo,  whatever  he  might  say  to  the  coutrai-y,  was  not 
the  God  of  that  Israel  Avhicli  was  His  chosen  people. 

2.  Intermediary  Beings. — Potencies  {dwdi^ieig,  \6yoi).  If,  in 
what  has  preceded,  we  have  once  and  again  noticed  a  remarkable  simi- 
larity between  Philo  and  the  Rabbis,  there  is  a  still  more  curious 
analogy  between  his  teaching  and  that  of  Jewish  Mysticism,  as  ul- 
timately fidly  developed  in  the  'Kabbalah.'  The  very  term  Kabbalah 
(from  qibbel,to  hand  down)  seems  to  point  out  not  only  its  Ascent  by 
oral  tradition,  1)ut  also  its  ascent  to  ancient  sources.'  Its  existence  is 

•  chaaii.  1    presupposed,  and  its  leading  ideas  are  sketched  in  the  Mishnah."  The 
Targums  also  bear  at  least  one  remarkable  trace  of  it.     May  it  not 
be,  that   as    Philo   frequently   refers   to   ancient  tradition,  so  both  . 
Eastern  and  Western  Judaism  may  here  have  drawn  from  one  and 
the  same  source — we  will  not  venture  to  suggest,  how  high   up — 

1  For  want  of  liandier  material  I  must       the   Kabl)alali   in   the    'History   of    the 
take  leave  to  refer  to  my  brief  sketch  of      Jewish  Nation,'  pp.  434-446. 


PHILO   AND   THE    KABBALAH.  45 

while  each  made  sueh  use  of  it  as  suited  their  distinctive  tendencies?     CHAP. 
At  any  rate  the  Kabbalah  also,  likening  Scripture  to  a  person,  com-        JV 

pares  those  who  study  merely  the  letter,  to  them  who  attend  only  to  ^ ^< — -" 

the  dress;  those  who  consider  the  moral  of  a  fact,  to  them  who  attend 
to  the  body;  while  the  initiated  alone,  who  regard  the  hidden 
meaning,  are  those  who  attend  to  the  soul.  Again,  as  Philo,  so  the 
oldest  part  of  the  Mishnah "  designates  God  as  Maqom — '  the  place '—  "  ^^-  ^-  * 
the  TOTtog,  the  all-comprehending,  what  the  Kabbalists  called  i\\Q  En- 
Soph^  'the  boundless,'  that  God,  without  any  quality,  Who  becomes 
cognisable  only  by  His  manifestations.' 

The  manifestations  of  God!  But  neither  Eastern  mystical 
Judaism,  nor  the  philosophy  of  Philo,  could  admit  of  any  direct 
contact  between  God  and  creation.  The  Kabbalah  solved  the  diffi- 
culty by  their  Sephiroth,'^  or  emanations  from  God,  through  which 
this  contact  was  ultimately  l)rought  about,  and  of  which  the  En- 
SopjJij  or  crown,  was  the  spring:  'the  source  from  which  the  intlnite 
light  issued.'  If  Philo  found  greater  difficulties,  he  had  also  more 
ready  help  from  the  philosophical  systems  to  hand.  His  SepJdrotJi 
were  'Potencies'  (dwdpieig),  '  Words' (Ao;>/oi),  intermediate  powers: 
'Potencies,'  as  we  imagine,  when  viewed  Godwards;  'Words,'  as 
viewed  creationwards.  They  were  not  emanations,  but,  according  to 
Plato,  'archetypal  ideas,'  on  the  model  of  which  all  that  exists  was 
formed;  and  also,  according  to  the  Stoic  idea,  the  cause  of  all,  per- 
vading all,  forming  all,  and  sustaining  all.  Thus  these  '  Potencies ' 
were  wholly  in  God,  and  yet  wholly  out  of  God.  If  we  divest  all 
this  of  its  philosophical  colouring,  did  not  Eastern  Judaism  also 
teach  that  there  Avas  a  distinction  between  the  Unapproachable  God, 
and  God  manifest?^ 

Another  remark  will  show  the  parallelism  between  Philo  and 
Rabbinism.^  As  the  latter  speaks  of  the  two  qualities  {Mlddoth)  of 
Mercy  and  Judgment  in  the  Divine  Being,''  and  distinguishes  l)etween  bjer.Ber. 
Elohlm.  as  the  God  of  Justice,  and  Jeliovah  as  the  God  of  Mercy 
and  Grace,  so  Philo  places  next  to  the  Divine  Word  {Ssiog  Xoyog), 
Goodness  {ayaSoryjg),  as  the  Creative  Potency  {noiijTiKrj  6vva/.iig), 

'  In  short,  the  \dyoi  aTteftf-iariKoi  of  and  Rabbinic  Theology.' 
the  Stoics.  *  A  very  interesting  question  arises: 

■^  Supposed   to   mean  either  iiinnera-  how  far  Philo  was  actiuainted  with,  and 

Hones,  or  splendour.  But  why  not  derive  influenced  by,  the  Jewisli  traditional  law 

the  word  from  acpaipa'!    The  ten  are:  or  the  Halakhah.     Tliis  has  been  treated 

CroiDn,    Wisdom,    Intelligence,    Me)-cy,  by  Dr.  5.  7?/yi'er  in  an  able  tractate  (Philo 

Judgment,    Beaut}/,    TriMm-ph,    Praise,  u.   die  Halach.),  although   he  attributes 

Fotindation,  Kingdom.  more  to  Philo  than  the  evidence  seems  to 

■^  For  the  teaching  of  Eastern  Judaism  admit, 
in  this  respect,  see  Appendix  II. :  '  Philo 


ix.  7 


46 


THE  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


V 


''Or  Ruach 
liam  Maijom, 
Ab.  iii.  10, 
and  fre- 
quently in 
the  Tal- 
mud. 


and  Power  [e^ovcria),  as  the  Ruling  Potenc}^  {/3a<JiXiKt}  Svvaptig), 
l)roving-  this  Ijv  a  curious  etymological  derivation  ot*  the  words  for 
'  God  '  and  '  Lord  '  [Oeos  and  Kvpiog) — apparently  unconscious  that 
the  LXX.,  in  direct  contradiction,  translated  Jehovah  by  Lord 
(Kvpiog),  and  Elohim  by  God  (©fo's")!  These  two  potencies  of  good- 
ness and  power,  Pliilo  sees  in  the  two  Cherubim,  and  in  the  two 
'  Angels '  which  accompanied  God  (the  Divine  Word),  Avhen  on  his 
way  to  destroy  tlie  cities  of  the  plain.  But  there  were  more  than 
these  two  Potencies.  In  one  place  Philo  enumerates  six,  according  to 
the  number  of  the  cities  of  refuge.  The  Potencies  issued  from  God 
as  the  beams  from  the  light,  as  the  waters  from  the  spring,  as  the 
breath  from  a  person:  they  were  immanent  in  God,  and  yet  also 
without  Him — motions  on  the  part  of  God,  and  yet  independent 
beings.  They  were  the  ideal  world,  which  in  its  imjiulse  outwards, 
meeting  matter,  produced  this  material  world  of  ours.  They  were 
also  the  angels  of  God — His  messengers  to  man,  the  media  through 
whom  He  revealed  Himself.' 

'  3.  The  Logos. — Viewed  in  its  Ijearing  on  New  Testament  teacli- 
ing,  this  part  of  Philo's  system  raises  the  most  interesting  questions. 
But  it  is  just  here  that  our  difficulties  are  greatest.  We  can  under- 
stand the  Platonic  conception  of  the  Logos  as  the  '  archety])al  idea,' 
and  that  of  the  Stoics  as  of  the  'world-reason'  pervading  matter. 
Similarly,  we  can  perceive,  how  the  Apocrypha — especially  the  Book 
of  Wisdom — following  up  the  Old  Testament  typical  truth  concern- 
ing '  Wisdom  '  (as  sjiecially  set  forth  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs)  almost 
arrived  so  far  as  to  present  '  Wisdom  '  as  a  special  '  Subsistence  '  (hy- 
postatising  it).  More  tlmn  this,  in  Talmndical  writings,  we  find  men- 
tion not  only  of  the  Shem,  or  'Name,'^  but  also  of  the  Shekhinah,' 
God  as  manifest  and  present,  which  is  sometimes  also  presented  as 
the  linacli  ha  Qodesh,  or  Holy  Spirit."  But  in  the  Targumim  we 
meet  yet  another  expression,  Avhich,  strange  to  say,  never  occurs  in  the 


'  At  the  same  time  there  is  a  reinari<- 
aljie  diHerence  liere  l)etween  Philo  and 
Raljbinism.  Philo  .holds  that  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world  was  brouiiht  about  l)y 
the  Poff'/ici'es,  but  that  the  Law  was  ,2;iven 
dii'ectly  through  Moses,  and  )iot  by  the 
mt^'/irifioti  of  (tnijels.  But  this  latter  was 
certainly  the  view  generally  entertained 
in  Palestine  as  expressed  in  the  LXX. 
renilering  of  Deut.  xxxii.  2,  in  the  Tar- 
gumim on  that  passage,  and  more  fully 
still  in  ./o.s.  Ant.  xv.  5.  3.  in  the  Mid- 
rashim  and  in  the  Talmud,  where  we  are 


told  (Mace.  24  a)  tliat  only  the  opening 
words,  '  I  am  the  Lord  thy  God,  thou 
shalt  have  no  other  gods  but  Me,'  were 
spoken  by  God  Himself.  Comp.  also 
Acts  vii.  38,  53;  Gal.  iii.  19;  Heb.  ii.  2. 
"^ Hainmejuchdd,  'approi)riatum  ;'  hnm- 
ine'pliorasli,  'expositum.'  'sei)aratum,'the 
'tetragrammaton,' or  four-lettered  name, 
;-;•,-;«.  There  was  also  a  ><}win  with 
'twelve,' and  one  with  'forty-two'  let- 
ters (Kidd.  71  a). 


THE    'MEMIJA'   OF   UNKELUS   AND   THE    '  iJKiOri.' 


47 


Talmiid.^  Jt  is  tliatortlieiJ/emv'o,  Log-os,  or  '  AVoi-d."  Not  that  tlietcrm 
is  exclusively  applied  to  the  Divine  Logos.  ^  But  it  stands  out  as  perhaps 
the  most  remarkable  fact  in  this  literature,  that  God — not  as  in  Ilis  per- 
manent manit'estation,  or  manifest  Presence — but  as  revealing"  Himself, 
is  designated  Memra.  Altogether  that  term,  as  applied  to  God,  occurs 
in  the  Targum  Onkelos  170  times,  in  the  so-called  Jerusalem  Targum  99 
times,  and  in  the  Targum  Pseudo-Jonathan  321  times.  A  critical  anal- 
ysis shows  that  in  82  instances  in  Onkelos,  in  71  instances  in  the  Jeru- 
salem Targum,  and  in  213  instances  in  the  Targum  Pseudo-Jonathan, 
the  designation  Memra  is  not  only  distinguished  from  God,  l)ut  evi- 
dently refers  to  God  as  revealing  Himself."  But  what  does  this  im- 
ply '(  The  <listinction  between  God  and  the  3fcmra  of  Jehovah  is  marked 
in  many  passages.*  Similarly,  the  Menvra of  JehovaJi  iadistrngmshed 
from  the  SheMiinali.'"  Nor  is  the  term  used  instead  of  the  sacred  word 
Jehovah;  "^  nor  for  the  well-known  Old  Testament  expression  '  the  Angel 
of  the  Lord; ' '  nor  yet  for  the  Metatron  of  the  Targum  Pseudo- Jonathan 
and  of  the  Talmud.'^  Does  it  then  represent  an  older  tradition  under- 
lying all  these  V  Beyond  this  Babbinic  theology  has  not  preserved  to 
us  the  doctrine  of  Personal  distinctions  in  the  Godhead.     And  yet,  if 


CHAP, 
IV 


'  Leiiy  (Neuliebr.  Worterb.  i.  p.  374  a) 
seems  to  imply  that  in  tbe  Midrash  the 
term  dihhnr  occupies  the  same  place  and 
meaning?.  But  with  all  deference  I  can- 
not agree  with  this  opinion,  nor  do  the 
passages  quoted  bear  it  out. 

■^  The  '  word,'  as  spoken,  is  distin- 
guished from  the  '  Word  '  as  speaking,  or 
revealing  Himself.  The  former  is  gen- 
erally designated  by  the  term  -pif/ir/amo.' 
Thus  in  Gen.  xv.  1,  •  After  these  words 
(things)  came  the  ' '  pithgama  "  of  Jehovah 
to  Abram  in  prophecy,  saying,  Fear  not, 
Abram,  My  "Memra"  shall  be  thy 
strength,  and  thy  very  great  reward.'  Still, 
the  term  Memra,  as  applied  not  only  to 
man,  but  also  in  reference  to  God,  is  not 
always  the  equivalent  of  'the  Logos.' 

•'  The  various  passages  in  the  Targum 
of  Onkelos,  the  Jerusalem,  and  the 
Pseudo-Jonathan  Targum  on  the  Penta- 
teuch will  l)e  found  enumerated  and 
classified,  as  those  in  which  it  is  a  doubt- 
ful, a  fair,  or  an  loupiestionabJe  infer- 
ence, that  the  word  Memra  is  intended 
for  God  revealing  Himself,  in  Ai)i)endix 
H. :   '  Philo  and  Rabbinic  Theology.' 

*  As,  for  example.  Gen.  xxviii.  21,  'the 
Memra  of  Jehovah  shall  be  my  God.' 

^  As,  for  example,  Num.  xxiii.  21,  '  the 
Memra  of  Jehovah  their  God  is  their 
helper,  and  the  Shekhinah  of  their  King 


is  in  the  midst  of  them.' 

•>  That  term  is  often  used  by  Onkelos. 
Besides,  the  expression  itself  is  'the 
Menu'a  of  Jehovah.' 

"  Onkelos  only  once  (in  Ex.  iv.  24) 
paraphrases  Jehovah  by  '  Malakha.' 

^  Metatron,  either  =  ixetcl  bpbvov,  or 
f^iETCL  TVfjavvov.  \\\  tlie  Talmud  it  is  ap- 
plied to  the  Angel  of  Jehovah  (Ex.  xxiii. 
20),  'the  Prince  of  the  World,'  -the 
Prince  of  the  Face  '  or  '  of  the  Presence,' 
as  they  call  him ;  he  who  sits  in  the  inner- 
most chamber  before  God,  while  the  other 
angels  only  hear  His  commands  from  be- 
hind the  veil  (Chag.  15  « ;  16  r? ;  Toseft.  ad 
ChuU.  (iO  a ;  Jeb.  16  h).  This  Metatron  of 
the  Talnuid  and  the  Kabbalah  is  also  the 
Adam  (jadmoii,  or  archetypal  man. 

■'  Of  deep  interest  is  Onkelos'  render- 
ing of  Dent,  xxxiii.  27,  where,  instead  of 
'  underneath  are  the  everlasting  arms,' 
Onkelos  has,  '  and  by  His  Menwa  was 
the  world  created,'  exactly  as  in  St.  Johu 
i.  10.  Now  this  divergence  of  Onkelos 
from  the  Hebrew  text  seems  unaccount- 
able. Winer,  whose  inaugural  disserta- 
tion, '  De  Onkeloso  ejus(iue  paraph. 
Ghald.'  Lips.  1820,  most  nu)dern  writers 
have  followed  (with  amplifications,  chiefly 
from  Luzzato^s  Philoxenus),  makes  no 
reference  to  this  passage,  nor  do  his  suc- 
cessors, so  far  as  I  know.     It  is  curious 


48 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


"  Gen.  xli.x. 
10.  11; 
Num.  xxiv. 
17 


words  have  any  meaning,  the  Memra  i.s  a  hypostasis,  though  the  dis- 
tinction of  permanent,  per.-^onal  Subsistence  is  not  marked.  Nor  yet, 
to  complete  this  subject,  is  the  Memra  identified  with  the  Messiah. 
In  tlie  Targum  Onkelos  distinct  mention  is  twice  made  of  Him, ^  while 
in  the  other  Targumim  no  fewer  than  seventy-one  Biblical  passages 
are  rendered  with  explicit  reference  to  Him. 

If  we  now  turn  to  the  views  expressed  by  Philo  about  the  Logos  we 
find  that  they  are  hesitating,  and  even  contradictory.  One  thing,  how- 
ever, is  plain:  the  Logos  of  Philo  is  not  the  Memra  of  the  Targumim. 
For,  the  expression  Memra  ultimately  rests  on  theological,  that  of 
Logos  on  philosophical  grounds.  Again,  the  Logos  of  Philo  approxi- 
mates more  closely  to  the  Metatron  of  the  Talmud  and  Ka])balah.  As 
they  speak  of  him  as  the  '  Prince  of  the  Face,'  Avho  bore  the  name  of 
his  Lord,  so  Philo  represents  the  Logos  as  'the eldest  Angel,'  'the 
nuuiy-named  Archangel,'  in  accordance  with  the  JcAvish  view  that  the 
name  JeHoYaH  unfolded  its  meaning  in  seventy  names  for  the  God- 
head.' As  they  speak  of  the  '  Adam  Qadmon,"  so  Philo  of  the  Logos 
as  the  human  refiection  of  the  eternal  God.  And  in  t)oth  these  re- 
spects, it  is  worthy  of  notice  that  he  appeals  to  ancient  teaching.^ 

What,  then,  is  thcLogos  of  Pliilo  ?    Not  a  concrete  i)ersonalitv.jind 

yet,  from  another  point  of  view,  not  strictlv  impersonal,  nor  merely  a  i^ro- 

ha.-:  scarcely  icceiveil  a.-<  yet  .siitticient 
treatrnout.  Mr.  Jjeuf.sc/i'.s  Article  in 
Smith's  ' Dictionary  of  the  Bible' (since 
reijrinted  in  liis  'Remains.')  is,  though 
brilliantly  written,  unsatisfactory.  Dr. 
Diiridson  (in  Kitto's  Cyclop.,  vol.  iii.  pp. 
!)4S-9G(;)  is,  as  always,  careful,  laborious, 
and  learned.  Dr.  Volck's  article  (in  Her- 
zog's  Real-Encykl..  vol.  xv.  ])p.  672-68.S) 
is  witliuut  much  intrinsic  value,  though 
painstakinii.  We  mention  these  articles, 
besides  the  treatment  of  the  subject  in 
the  Introduction  to-  the  Old  Testament 
(Keil,  De  Wette-Schrader.  Bleek-Kamp- 
hausen.  Reuss),  and  the  \vf)rks  of  Znnz, 
Geiger,  Noldeke,  and  others,  to  whom 
partial  reference  has  already  been  made. 
Fraid-el's  interestintr  and  learned  book 
(Zu  dem  Tar2;uni  der  Proijheten)  deals  al- 
most exclusively  with  tlie  Tarjjjum  .Jona- 
than, on  which  it  was  impossible  to  enter 
within  our  limits.  As  modern  bi'ocKures  of 
interest  the  followinj;  three  may  be  men- 
tioned: Mayhaum,  Anthroiiomorphien  bei 
Onkelos;  Gronema n n  JYw ion&th.  Pentat. 
Uebers.  uu  Verhaltu.  z.  Halacha;  and 
Sinr/er,  Onkelos  im  Verhiiltn.  z.  Halacha. 

'  See  the  enumeration  of  these  70 
Names  in  the  Baal-ha-Tiuim  on  Numb, 
xi.  16. 

'^  Comp.  Siegfried,  u.  s..  ))p.  221-223. 


that,  as  our  present  Hebrew  text  of  this 
verse  consists  of  three  worels,  so  does  the 
rendering  of  Onkelos,  and  that  both  end 
with  the  same  word.  Is  the  rendering  of 
Onkelos  then  a  paraphrase,  or  does  it 
represent  another  reading?  Another  in- 
teresting passage  is  Dent.  viii.  3.  Its  quo- 
tation by  Christ  in  St.  Matt.  iv.  4  is  deeply 
interesting,  as  read  in  the  light  of  the  ren- 
dering of  Onkelos,  •  Not  by  bread  alone  is 
man  sustained,  but  by  every  forthcom- 
ing Memra  from  before  Jehovah  shall 
man  live.'  Yet  another  rendering  of 
Onkelos  is  significantly  illustrative  of 
1  Cor.  X.  1-4.  He  renders  Deut.  xxxiii. 
3  '  with  power  He  brought  them  out  of 
Egyi)t;  they  were  led  under  thy  cloud; 
they  journeyed  according  to  (by)  thy 
Memra.'  Does  this  represent  a  difier- 
ence  in  the  Hebrew  from  the  admittedly 
dithcult  text  in  our  present  Bil)le?  Winer 
refers  to  it  as  an  instance  in  which  Onkelos 
'suopte  ingenio  et  copiose  admodum 
eloquitur  vatum  divinorum  mentem.'  add- 
ing, '  ita  nt  de  his.  (puis  singulis  vocibus 
inesse  crediderit,  significationibus  non 
possit  recte  judicari ; '  and  Winer's  suc- 
cessors say  much  the  same.  But  this  is 
to  state,  not  to  explain,  the  difficulty. 
In  general,  we  may  here  be  allowed  to 
eay  that  the  question  of  the  Targumim 


PH1L(JS    LOGOS   AS   THE    IIIGH-PRIEST   AND   PARACLETE. 


49 


portv  of  tlic  Doitv.  but  the  shadow,  as  it  were,  which  the  litrlit  of  God     CHAP. 
casts — an<l  if  Himself  li^'ht,  only  the  manifested  reflection  of  God,  His         IV 
spiritual,  even  as  the  worhl  is  His  material,  habitation.    Moreover,  the   "- — r — 
Log-QS  is  '  the  inuige  of  God  '  (siKOjv),  upon  which  man  was  made,''  or,    ^ Gen.  i.  27 
to  use  the  platonic  term,    Hhe  archetv])al   idea.'     As   regards   the 
relation  between  the  Logos  and  the  two  fundamental  Potencies  (from 
which  all  others  issue),  the  latter  are  variously  represented — on  the  one 
liand,  as  proceeding  from  the  Logos;  and  on  the  other,  as  themselves 
constituting  the  Logos.     As  regards  the  world,  the  Logos  is  its  real 
being.     He  is  also  its  archetype;  moreover  the  instrument  (opyavor) 
through  Whom  God  created  all  things.     If  the  Logos  separates  between 
God  and  the  world,  it  is  rather  as  intermediary;  He  separates,  but  He 
also  unites.     But  chiefly  does  this  hold  true  as  regards  the  relation 
between  God  and  man.     The  Logos  announces  and  interprets  to  man  the 
will  andmiiidof  God  {spjxr^vsv^  Ka  I  Trpo^fjrfjg)-  He  acts  as  mediator; 
He  is  the  real  High-Priest,  and  as  such  by  His  purity  takes  away  the 
sins  of  man,  and  by  His  intercession  procures  for  us  the  mercy  of 
God.     Hence  Philo  designates  Him  not  only  as  the  High-Priest,  but  as 
the  '  Paraclete. '     He  is  also  the  sun  whose  rays  enlighten  man,  the 
medium  of  Divine  revelation  to  the  soul;  the  Manna,  or  support  of 
spiritual  life;  He  Who  dwells  in  the  soul.     And  so  the  Logos  is, 
in  the  fullest  sense,  Melchisedek,  the  priest  of  the  most  high  God. 
the  kmu'  of  riirhteousnessJ  Bao-iXevc  diKaiog),^\\d  the  king  of  Salem 
{l^aaiXetK  sipijvijs),  Wlio  lu'ings  righteousness  and  peace  to  the  souL''  ^  De  Leg, 
But  the  Logos  '  does  not  come  into  anv  soul  tliat  is  dead  in  sip. '     That   25, 26 
there  is  close  similai'itv  of  form  between  these  Alexandrian  views  "and 
liiucli  111  the  arguuu'utation  of  the  E))istle  to  the  HebrowSr  niust__be 
evident  Uj_a[\ — no  less  than  that  there  is  the  widest  possiljle  divergence 
in  sul)stance  and  spirit. ^     The  Logos  of  Philo  is  shadowv.  unreal   not  n 
Person;  -  there  is  no  need  of  an  atoiiPDionf  •   the  High-Priest  iiiter- 
cedes,  but  has  no  sacrifice  to  ofl'er  as  the  basis  of  His  intercession,  least 
of  all  that  of  Himself;  the  old  Testament  types  are  only  typical  ideas, 

'  For  a  full  discussion  of   tbis  sinii-  showing,  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the 

larity  of  form  and  divergence  of  si)irit,  Hebrews  displays  few  traces  of  a  Pales- 

bctween  Philo — or,  rather,  between  Alex-  tinian  training. 

aiulriauism — and  the  Epistle  to  the  He-  ^  On   the    subject  of    Philo's    Logos 

brews,    the   reader    is    referred   to   the  generally  the  brochure  of  Harnoch  (Kd- 

niasterly  treatise  by  Biehm  (Der  Lehr-  nigsberg,    1879)    deserves    perusal,    al- 

begriff  d.  HebrJierbr.  ed.  1867.  especially  though  it  does  not  furnish  much  that  is 

l)p.  247-268,  411-424:,  658-670,  and  855-  new.     In  general,  the  student  of  Philo 

S60).     The  author's  general  view  on  the  ought  especially  to  study  the  sketch  bj' 

subject  is  well  and  convincingly  formu-  Zeller  in  his  Philosophie  der  Gr.,  vol. 

lated  on  p.  249.    We  must,  however,  add,  iii.  pt.  ii.  3rd  ed.  pp.  338-418. 
in  ojiposition  to  Riehm,  that,  by  his  own 


^ 


60 


THE    PUKl'AitATlUN   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


»  Aa  for 

exanfele 

EccMl.'iii. 


not  typical  ttu't.-i;  tlicy  i)()iiit  to  a  Prototypal  Idea  in  the  eternal  past, 
not  to  an  Antitypal  Person  and  Fact  in  history;  there  is  no  cleansing 
of  the  soul  by  l)lood,  no  sprinklingof  the  Mercy  Seat,  no  access  for  all 
through  the  rent  veil  into  the  immediate  Presence  of  God;  nor  yet  a 
quickening  of  the  soul  from  dead  works  to  serve  the  living  God.  If 
the  argumentation  of  the  Papistic  to  the  Hebrews  is  Alexandrian,  it  is 
an  Alcxandrianism  which  is  overcome  and  past,  which  only  furnishes 
the  form,  not  the  substance,  the  vessel,  not  its  contents.  The  closer 
therefore  the  outward  similarity,  the  greater  is  the  contrast  in 
substance. 

The  vast  difference  ])etween  Alexandrianism  and  the  Xew  Testa- 
ment will  api)ear  still  more  clearly  in  the  views  of  Philo  on  Cosmology 
and  A  ntlrropologii.  In  regard  U)  the  former,  his  results  in  some  respects 
run  parallel  to  those  of  the  students  of  mysticism  in  the  Talmud,  and 
of  the  Kab])alists.  To.u'ether  witli  tlic  Stujc  \icw.  whiVj)  i-r-pvc^c^iti-rl 
God  as  'the  active  cause    of  this  world,  and  nuitter  as  •  the  passive.' 


Philo  holils  the  Platonic  idea,  that  matter  was  somethinu*  existent.. and 
that    it    resisted    G<'d.'     Such  si)e<'uh(tions  must  have  been  current 


^  Shem.  R. 
13 


among  the  Jews  long  before,  to  judge  by  certain  warnings  given  by  the 
Son  of  Sirach."'^  And  Stoic  views  of  the  origin  of  the  world  seem 
implied  even  in  the  Book  of  the  Wisdom  of  Solomon  (i.  7;  vii.  24; 
viii.  1;  xii.  1).^  The  mystics  in  the  Talmud  arrived  at  similar 
conclusions,  not  through  Greek,  but  through  Persian  teaching.  Their 
speculations*  Ixjldly  entered  on  the  dangerous  ground,^  forbidden  to 
the  many,  scarcely  allowed  to  the  few.,*^  where  such  deep  questions  as 
the  origin  of  our  world  and  its  connection  with  God  were  discussed. 
It  was,  perhaps,  only  a  l^eautiful  poetic  figure  that  God  had  taken  of 
the  dust  under  the  throne  of  His  glory,  and  cast  it  upon  the  waters, 
which  thus  became  earth.''     But  so  far  did  isolated  teachers  become 


1  With  singular  and  characteristic  in- 
consistency, Philo,  however,  ascribes 
also  to  God  the  creation  of  matter  (de 
Somn.  i.  13). 

-'  So  the  Talinudists  certainly  under- 
stood it,  .Ter.  Chasz;.  ii.  1. 

^  Conij).  (rrimin,  Exe^i:.  Handb.  zu  d. 
Apokr.,  Lief.  vi.  pp.  55,  56. 

*  They  were  arranged  iuto  those  con- 
cerning the  Maasey  Bereshith  (Creation), 
and  the  MaaHei/  Merkahhah,  '  the  chariot' 
of  Ezekiel's  vision  (Providence  in  the 
widest  sense,  or  God's  manifestation  in 
the  created  world). 

^  Of  the  four  celebrities  who  entered 
the    'Pardes,'  or   enclosed   Paradise   of 


theosophic  speculation,  one  became  an 
ai)0state.  another  died,  a  third  went 
wrong  (Ben  Soma),  and  only  Akiba  es- 
caped unscathed,  according  to  the 
Scrijiture  saying,  '  Draw  me.  and  we  will 
run  ■  (Chag.  U  b). 

*  •  It  is  not  lawful  to  enter  upon  the 
Maasfij  Bereshith  in  presence  of  two. 
nor  upon  the  Merkabhah  in  presence  of 
one,  unless  he  be  a  "sage,"  and  under- 
stands of  his  own  knoAvledge.  Any  one 
who  ratiocinates  on  these  four  things,  it 
were  better  for  him  that  he  had  not  been 
born :  What  is  above  and  what  is  below ; 
what  was  afore,  and  what  shall  be  here- 
after.'    (Chag.  ii.  L) 


rillLO'S   COSMOLOGY   AND   ANTIIKOPOLOGY.  51 

intoxicated'  by  tlu;  new  wine  of  tliese  strang-e  si)eeuliition8,  that  they     CHAP. 
whisj)ered  it  to  one  anotlicr  that  water  was  the  oriji'iiuil  eh'iiieiit  of  the         IV 
worhl,^  which  had  successively  been  hardened  into  snow  ;iiid  tlu-n  into   ^ — .' 
earth.''  ^  Other  and  later  teachei's  fixed  uiion  the  air  or  the  tire  as  the    '.ler. chag. 
original  element,  arguing-  the  i)re-existence  ot  nuitter  troni  the  use  ot 
the  word  'made'  in  Gen.  i.  7.  instead  of 'created.'     Some  moditied 
this  view,  and  suggested  that  God  had  originally  created  the  three 
elements  of  water,  air  or  spirit,  and  lire,  from  which  all  else  was 
developed.*    Traces  also  occur  of  tlie  doctrine  of  the  })re-existence  of 
things,  in  a  sense  similar  to  tliat  of  Plato."  i-Ber.  r.  i. 

Like  Plato  and  the  Stoics.  Philo  reu'arded  matter  as  devoid  of  all 
(iualit\,  and  even  form.  Matter  in  itself  was  dead — nun'e  than  that. 
it  was  t'vU.  This  matter,  which  was  already  existing,  God  formed 
(not  made),  like  an  architect  who  uses  his  materials  according  to  a 
pre-existing  plan — which  in  this  case  was  the  archetypal  world. 

This  was  creation,  or  rather  formation,  brought  al)out  not  by  God 
Himself,  bnt  by  the  Potencies,  especially  by  the  Logos,  Who  was  the 
connecting  bond  of  all.  As  for  God,  His  only  direct  work  was  the 
soul,  and  that  only  of  the  good,  not  of  the  evil.  Man's  immaterial 
part  had  a  twofold  aspect:  earthwards,  as  Sensuousness  {aiatiijcris); 
and  heavemvards,  as  Reasoij  (koi)^).  The  sensuous  part  of  the  soul 
was  connected  with  the  l)ody.  It  had  no  heavenly  past,  and  would 
have  no  future.  But  'Reason'  {vov5)  was  that  ))reath  of  true  life 
whicli  God  had  breathed  into  man  {7rv€vj.ia)  whereby  the  earthy 
became  the  higher,  living  si)irit,  with  its  various  faculties.  Before 
time  began  the  soul  was  without  body,  an  archetype,  the  'heavenly 
man,'  pure  spirit  in  Paradise  (virtue),  yet  even  so  longing  after  its 
ultimate  archetype,  God.     Some  of  these  pure  spirits  descendetl  into 

'  'Ben  Soma  went  astray  (mentally):  A  very  cm-ions  idea  is  that  of  R.  Josluia 

he  shook  the  (Jewish)  world".'  ben   Levi,    acc()nUii,ii-   to   which    all    the 

-  That  criticism,  which  one  would  des-  works  of  creation  were  really  finished  on 

ifj;nate  as  impertinent,  which  would  find  the  tirst  day,  and  only,  as  it  were,  ex- 

this  view  in  2   Peter  iii.  5,  is,  alas!  not  tended  on    the   other   days.     This   also 

confined  to  Jewish  writers,  but  hazarded  represents  really  a  doubt  of  the  Biblical 

even  by  De  Wette.  account  of  creation.     Stran.iie  thou<ih  it 

•^  Judah  bar  Pazi.  in  the  second  cen-  may  sound,  the  doctrine  of  develoimient 

tury.    Ben  Soma  lived  in  the  first  century  was  derived  from  the  words  (Gen.  ii.  4). 

of  our  era.  '  These  are  the  generations  of  heaven  and 

■•  Accordins;  to  the  Jerusalem  Talmud  earth  when  they  were  created,  in  the  day 

(Ber.  i.  I)  the  firmament  was  at  first  soft,  when  Jahveh   Elohim   made   earth    and 

and  only  ,2;radually  became  hard.     Ac-  heavens.'     It  was   ari^ued,   that  the  ex- 

cordln,ii; "  to  Ber.  R".  10,  G(id  creat(>d  the  i)ression  implied,   they  were    developed 

world  from  a  mixture  of  tire  and  snow,  from  the  day  in  which   they  had  been 

other  Rabbis  sus:fi;estinf>;  four  ori.s^inal  created.     Others  seem  to  have  held,  that 

elements,  according  to  the  quarters  of  the  the  three    principal    things    that   were 

globe,  or  else  six,  adding  to  them  that  created— earth,   heaven,  and  water — re- 

whlch  is  above  and  that  which  is  l)elow.  mained.  each  for  three  days,  at  the  end 


52 


THE   PREPARATION  FOR   THE    GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


bodies  and  so  lost  their  purity.    Or  else,  the  union  was  brought  about 
by  God  and  by  powers  lower  than  God  (daemons,  drjfxiovpyoi).     To 

"-^^-""^  the  latter  is  due  our  earthly  part.  God  breathed  on  the  formation, 
and  the  '  earthly  Reason '  became  '  intelligent'  '  spiritual '  soul  {ipvxt) 
rospd).     Our  earthly  part  alone  is  the  seat  of  sin. ^ 

This  leads  us  to  the  great  question  of  Original  Sin.  Here  the 
views  of  Philo  are  those  of  the  f]astern  Rabbis.  Butboth  are  en- 
tirely  different  from^  those  on  which  the  argument  in  the  Epistle  to 
the  Romans  turns.  It  was  neither  at  the  feet  of  Gamaliel,  ncir  vet 
from  Jewish  Hellenism,  that  Saul  of  Tarsus  learned  the  doctrine  of 
original  sin.  The  statement  that  as  in  Adam  all  spiritually  died,  so 
in  ^lessiah  all  should  be  made  alive, ^  finds  absolutely  no  parallel  in 
Jewish  writings.^  What  may  be  called  the  starting  point  of  Chris- 
tian theology,  the  doctrine  of  hereditary  guilt  and  sin,  through  the 
fall  of  Adam,  and  of  the  consequent  entire  and  helpless  corruption  of 
our  nature,  is  entirely  unknown  to  Rabbinical  Judaism.  The  reign  of 
physical  death  was  indeed  traced  to  the  sin  of  our  first  parents.*   But 

»Ber.  61a  tlic  Taluiud  cxprcssly  teaches,"  that  God  originally  created  man  with 
two  propensities, "one  to  good  and  one  to  evil  {Yetser  tobh,  and  Yetser 

fcsanh.  917;  hara^).     The  evil  impulse  began  immediately  after  birth."'     But  it 


of  which  they  respectively  developed 
what  is  connected  with  them  (Ber.  R.  12). 

1  For  further  notices  on  the  Cosmology 
and  Anthropology  of  Philo,  see  Appen- 
dix n. :  '  Philo  and  Rabbinic  Theology.' 
■/^  'l_  We  cannot  help  quoting  the  beauti- 
ful Haggadic  explanation  of  the  name 
Adam,  according  to  its  three  letters, 
A,  D,  M — as  including  these  three  names, 
Adam.  David,  Messiah. 

*  Rayinundus  Martini,  in  his  'Pugio 
Fidei'  (orig.  ed.  p.  675;  ed.  Voisin  et 
CdU'pzor,  pp.  860,  867),  quotes  from  the 
iDOok  Siplire:  'Go  and  learn  the  merit  of 
Messiah  tlie  King,  and  the  reward  of  the 
righteous  from  the  first  Adam,  on  whom 
was  laid  only  one  commandment  of  a 
prohibitive  character,  and  he  trans- 
gressed it.  See  how  many  deaths  were 
appointed  on  him,  and  on  his  genera- 
tions, and  on  the  generations  of  his 
generations  to  the  end  of  all  genera- 
tions. {Wiinsche,  Leiden  d.  Mess.  p. 
05.  makes  here  an  unwarrantable  addi- 
tion, in  his  translation.)  But  which  at- 
tribute fmeasuring?)  is  the  greater — the 
attribute  of.  goodness  or  the  attribute  of 
punishment,  (retribution)?  He  answered, 
the  attribute  of  goodness  is  the  greater, 
and  tiie  attribute  of  punishment  the  less. 
And  Messiah  the  King,  who  was  clias- 
tcned  and  suffei-ed  for  the  transgressors, 
as  it  is  said,  ••  He  was  wounded  for  our 


transgressions,"  and  so  on — how  nuich 
more  shall  He  justify  (make  righteous — 
by  His  merit)  all  generations ;  and  this 
is  what  is  meant  when  it  is  written. 
"And  Jehovah  made  to  meet  upon  Him 
the  sin  of  us  all."'  We  have  rendered 
this  passage  as  literally  as  possible,  but 
we  are  bound  to  add  that  it  is  not  found 
in  any  now  existing  copy  of  Siphre. 

*  Death  is  not  considered  an  absolute 
evil.  In  short,  all  the  various  conse- 
quences which  Rabbinical  writings  as- 
cribe to  the  sin  of  Adam  may  be  desig- 
nated either  as  phj-sical,  or,  if  mental, 
as  amounting  only  to  detriment,  loss, 
or  imperfeiGtness.  These  results  had 
been  partially  counteracted  by  Abraham, 
and  would  be  fully  removed  by  the 
Messiah.  Neither  Enoch  nor  Elijah  had 
sinned,  and  accordingly  they  did  not  die. 
Comp.  generally.  Hamburger.  Geist  d. 
Agada.  p]).  81-84,  and  in  regard  to 
death  as  connected  with  Adam,  p.  85. 

^  These  are  also  hypostatised  as  An- 
gels. Comp.  Levy,  Chald.  Wtii'terb.  \\. 
342  a;  Neuhebr.  Worterb.  p.  259,  ((,  h. 

*  Or  with  'two  reins,' the  one,  advis- 
ing to  good,  being  at  his  right,  the  other, 
counselling  evil,  at  his  left,  according 
to  Eccles.  X.  2  (Ber.  61  a,  towards  the 
end  of  the  page). 

'  In  a  sense  its  existence  was  necea- 
sarv  for  the  continuance  of  this  world. 


PHiLO's  p:thics.  53 

was  within  the  power  of  man  to  vanquish  sin,  and  to  attain  porfoct     chap. 
righteousness;  in  fact,  this  stage  had  actually  been  attained/  l^' 

Similarly,  Philo  regarded  the  soul  of  the  child  as  ^nakoil  ■  (A  (him   ^- — ^i ' 

and  Eve),  a  sort  of  tabula  rasa,  as  wax  which  and  \v(iii1(l  fiiin  form 
and  mould.  Rnt  tin's  state  ceased  Avhcn  <(^ft'oction'  })i-e[^ciitc(l  itself 
to  reason,  and  thus  sensuous  lust  arose,  which  was  the  suriuii.-  of  all 
sin.  The  grand  task,  then,  was  to  get  rid  of  the  sensuous,  and  to 
rise  to  the  spiritual.  In  this,  the  ethical  part  of  his  system,  Philo 
was  most  under  the  influence  of  Stoic  ])hilosoohv.  We  might  almost 
.say,  it  is  no  longer  the  Hebrew  wlio  Hellenises,  but  the  >Tc11cmo  who 
Ilebraises.  And  yet  it  is  here  also  that  the  most  ingenious  and  wide- 
reaching  allegorisms  of  Scripture  are  introduced.  It  is  scarcely  pos- 
i^ible  to  convey  an  idea  of  how  brilliant  this  method  becomes  in  the 
liands  of  Philo,  how  universal  its  application,  or  how  captivating  it 
must  have  proved.  Philo  describes  man's  state  as,  first  one  of  sen- 
suousness,  but  also  of  unrest,  misery  and  unsatisfied  longing.  If  per- 
sisted in,  it  would  end  in  complete  spiritual  insensibility.^  But  from 
this  state  the  soul  must  pass  to  one  of  devotion  to  reason.^  This 
change  might  be  accomplished  in  one  of  three  wa3's:  first,  by  study 
— of  which  physical  was  the  lowest;  next,  that  which  embraced  the 
ordinary  circle  of  knowledge  ;  and  lastly,  the  highest,  that  of  Divine 
l)hilosophy.  The  second  method  was  Askesis  :  discipline,  or  prac- 
tice, when  the  soul  turned  from  the  lower  to  the  higher.  But  the 
best  of  all  was  the  third  way:  the  free  unfolding  of  that  si)iritual 
life  which  cometh  neither  from  study  nor  discipline,  but  from  a 
natural  good  disposition.  And  in  that  state  the  soul  had  true  rest^ 
and  joy.* 

Here  we  must  for  the  present  pause.®  Brief  as  tliis  sketch  of 
Hellenism  has  been,  it  must  have  brouglit  the  question  vividly  before 
the  mind,  whether  and  how  far  certain  parts  of  the  New  Testament. 
cs])ecially  the  fourth  Gospel,'  are  connected  with  the  direction  ot 

The  conflict  between  these  two  impulses  Theology.' 

coustituted  the  moral  life  of  man.  ^  The  views  of  Philo  on  the  Messiah 
1  The    solitary  exception   hei'e    is    4  will  be  presented  in  another  coiuiection. 
Esdras,  where  the  Christian  doctrine  of  '  This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  on  the 
original  sin  is  most  strongly  expressed,  (luestion  of  the  composition,  date,  and 
l)eing  evidently  derived  from  New  Tes-  authorship  of  the  four  Gosiiels.     But  as 
tament    teaching.     Comp.    especially  4  regards  the  point  on  which  negative  criti- 
Esdras  (our  ApocrjiJhal   2  Esdras)  vii.  cism  has  of  late  spoken  strongest— and 
4()-53,  and  other  passages.    "Wlierein  the  on  which,  indeed  (as  Weiss   rightly  re- 
hope  of  safety  lay,  appears  in  ch.  ix.  marks)  the  very  existence  of  '  the  Tilbin- 
'^  Symbolised  by  Lot's  wife.  gen  School '  depends — that  of  the  Johan- 
^  Symbolised  by  Ebher,  Hebrew.  nine  authorship  of  the  fourth  Gospel.  I 
*  The  Sabbath,  Jerusalem.  would  refer  to  Weisf:,  Leben  Jesu  (1882 : 
^  For  further  details  on  these   points  vol.  i.  pp.  84-139),  and  to  Dr.  Salmon's 
see  Appendix  H. :   'Philo  and  Rabbinic  Introd.  to  the  New  Test.  pp.  2iUi-'Mh). 


r 


\ 


54  THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   G08PEL. 

]!0()K  tliou^lit  (lc8cril)e(l  in  tlic  ])recudiiig  pages.  Without  yielding- to  that 
[  scliool  of  critics,   whose    perverse  ingenuity  discerns    everywnere  a 

- ^^^ — ^   sinister  motive  or  tendency  in  the  Evangelic  writers,'  it  is  evident 

that  each  of  them  had  a  special  object  in  view  in  constructing  his 
narrative  of  the  One  Life;  and  primarily  addressed  himself  to  a  special 
audience.  If,  without  entering  into  elaborate  discussion,  we  might, 
according  to  St.  Luke  i.  2,  regard  the  narrative  of  St.  Mark  as  the 
grand  representative  of  that  authentic  'narration'  {du'/yijaig)^  though 
not  by  Apostles,'^  which  was  in  circulation,  and  the  Gospel  by  St. 
Matthew  as  representing  the  'tradition'  handed  down  (the  Ttapadoaig), 
by  the  Apostolic  eye-witnesses  and  ministers  of  the  Word,^  we  should 
reach  the  following  results.  Our  oldest  Gospel-narrative  is  that  by 
St.  Mark,  which,  addressing  itself  to  no  class  in  particular,  sketches 
in  rapid  outlines  the  picture  of  Jesus  as  the  Messiah,  alike  for  all 
men.  Next  in  order  of  time  comes  our  present  Gospel  by  St. 
Matthew.  It  goes  a  step  further  back  than  that  by  St.  Mark,  and 
gives  not  only  the  genealogy,  but  the  history  of  the  miraculous  birth 
of  Jesus.  Even  if  we  had  not  the  consensus  of  tradition,  every  one 
^;    must  feel  that  this  Gospel  is  Hebrew  in  its  cast,  in  its  citations  from 

^jij^  %  the  Old  Testament,  and  in  its  whole  bearing.     Taking  its  key-note 

from  the  Book  of  Daniel,  that  grand  Messianic  text-book  of  Eastern 
Judaism  at  the  time,  and  as  re-echoed  in  the  Book  of  Enoch — which 
expresses  the  popular  apprehension  of  Daniel's  Messianic  idea — it 
presents  the  Messiah  chiefly  as  'the  Son  of  Man,'  'the  Son  of  David,' 
'  the  Son  of  God.'  We  have  hei-e  the  fulfilment  of  Old  Testament  law 
and  prophecy  ;  the  realisation  of  Old  Testament  life,  faith,  and  hope. 
Third  in  point  of  time  is  the  Gospel  by  St.  Luke,  which,  passing  back 
another  step,  gives  us  not  only  the  history  of  the  birth  of  Jesus,  but 
also   that  of  John,    'the  preparer  of  the  way.'     Jt  is  Pauline,   and 

y     .  addresses  itself,  or  rather,  we  should  sav.  i^resonts  the  Person  of  the 

Messiah,  it  may  be  '  to  the  Jew  first.'  but  certainlv  '  also  to  the  (Jrcck.' 
The  term  which  St.  Luke,   alone  of  all  Gospel  writers,*  applies  to 

'  No  one  not  acquainted  witli  this  -  I  do  not,  of  course,  mean  tliat  tlie 
literature  can  imao;ine  the  character  of  narration  of  St.  Mark  was  not  itself  de- 
the  ar^-uments  sometimes  used  by  a  cer-  rived  chiefl.y  from  Ajjostolic  preachiiiij, 
tain  class  of  critics.  To  say  that  they  especially  that  of  St.  Peter.  In  fjeneral, 
proceed  on  tlie  most  forced  perversion  tlie  ([uestion  of  the  authorship  and  source 
of  the  natural  and  obvious  meanin.i>;  of  of  tlie  various  Gospels  uuist  be  reserved 
passages,  is  but  little.  But  one  cannot  for  separate  treatment  in  another  place, 
restrain  moral  indiijnation  on  flndinii- tliat  •'  Comji.  Ma/u/oftTs  ed.  of  B/cek,  Einl. 
to  Evauiielists  and  Apostles  is  imputed,  in  d.  N.T.  (P>te  Aufl.  1S7.")),  p.  34<). 
on  sucli  ii'rounds,  not  only  systematic  ^  WitJj  the  sole  exception  of  St.  Matt, 
falsehood,  l)ut  falseliood  with  the  most  xii.  IS,  where  the  expression  is  a  quota- 
sinister  motives.  tion  from  the  LXX.  of  Is.  xlii.  1. 


PRESENTATION   UF   CHRIST   IN   THE   GOSPELS.  55 

Jesus,  is  that  of  the  nai;  or  'servant'  of  God,  in  the  sense  in  which  CHAP. 
Isaiah  has  spoken  of  the  Messiah  as  the  '  Ebhcd  Jehovah, '  '  servant  of  IV 
the  Lord.'  St.  Luke's  is,  so  to  speak,  the  Isaiali-Gospel,  presenting  "- — ■:——^ 
the  Christ  in  His  bearing  on  the  history  of  God's  Kingdom  and  of  the 
world — as  God's  Elect  Servant  in  Whom  He  delighted.  In  the  Old 
Testament,  to  adopt  a  beautiful  figure,'  the  idea  of  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord  is  set  before  us  like  a  pyramid:  at  its  base  it  is  all  Israel,  at  its 
central  section  Israel  after  the  Spirit  (the  circumcised  in  heart),  re- 
presented by  David,  the  man  after  God's  own  heart;  "while  at  its  apex 
it  is  the  'Elect'  Servant,  the  Messiah.^  And  these  three  ideas,  with 
tlieir  sequences,  are  presented  in  the  third  Gospel  as  centring  in  Jesus 
the  Messiah.  By  the  side  of  this  pyramid  is  the  other:  the  Son  of 
Man,  the  Son  of  David,  the  Son  of  God.  The  Servant  of  the  Lord  of 
Isaiah  and  of  Luke  is  the  p]nlightener,  the  Consoler,  the  victorious 
Deliverer;  the  Messiah  or  Anointed:  the  Prophet,  the  Priest,  the 
King. 

Yet  another  tendency — shall   we  sny^   wnnt  ? — remained,    so  to 


i^' 


speak,  unmet  and  unsatisfied.     That  large  world  of  latest  and  nu)st       a        pi 


ijx^Jyjo 


promising  Jewish  thought,  whose  task  it  seemed  to  bridge  over  the 
chasm  between  heathenism  and  Judaism — the  Western  Jewish  worh 

must  have  the  Christ  presented  to  them,  y  For  in  every  direction  is   C  W     j -^ 

He  the  Christ.  And  not  oulv  thev,  l)ut  that  larger  Greek  world,  so 
far  as  Jewish  Hellenism  could  ])ring  it  to  the  threshold  of  the  Church. 
This  Hellenistic  and  Hellenic  world  now  stood  in  waiting  to  enter  it, 
though  as  it  were  by  its  northern  porch,  and  to  be  baptized  at  its 
font.  All  this  must  have  forced  itself  on  the  mind  of  St^Jolm,  re- 
siding in  the  midst  of  them  at  Ephesus,  even  as  St.  Paul's  E])istles 
contain  almost  as  many  allusions  to  Hellenism  as  to  Eabbinism.^ 
And  so  the  fourth  Gospel  Ijccame,  not  the  supplement,  but  the  com- 

'  First  expressed  by  Delitzsch  (Bibl.  although  the  inferences  may  be  false. 
Comni.  ii.  d.  Proph.  Jes.  p.  414),  and  tiaen  Theoloiiy  sliould  not  here  rashly  inter- 
adopted  by  OeJder  (Theol.  d.  A.  Test.  fere.  JBut  whatever  the  ultimate  result, 
vol.  ii.  \l\^.  270-272).  these  two  are  certainly  the  fundamental 

-'  The   two   fundamental  principles  in  facts  in  the  history  of  the  Kinndom  of 

the  history  of  the  Kin,<j;dom  of  God  are  God,   and,   mai'king  them  as  sucli.   the 

selt-ctioii  and  ilerehrpmpnt.     It  is  surely  devout  philosopher  may  rest  contented.^ 
remarkable,  not  stranse,  that  these  are  ■'  The  Gnostics,  to  whom,  in  the  opinion' 

also  the  two  fundamental  truths  in  the  of  nuin,v,  so  frequent  references  are  nuide 

history  of  that  other  Kingdom  of  God,  in  the  writings  of  St.  John  and  St.  Paul, 

Nature,  if  modern  science  has  read  them  were  only  an  otTspring  (rather,   as  the 

correctly.    These  two  s/^/wA^w/hvs  would  Germans   woidd  term   it.  an  Abart)  of 

mark  the /nfc^s as  ascertained;  the  r/r/y«'-  Alexandrianism  on  the   one   hand,  ami 

twes.    which   are   added   to   them  by  a  on  llie  otlier  of  Eastern  notions,  which 

certain  class  of  students,  mark  oidy  their  are   so   lari^ely   embodied   in    the    later 

uifprettcfs  from  these  facts.     These  facts  Kabl)alah. 
may  be  true,  even  if  as  yet  incomplete, 


iJU^ 


56  THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK      pleiiicnt,  of  the  other  tliree^     There  is  no  other  Gospel  more  Pales- 
I         tiiiiau  than  this  in  its  modes  of  expression,  alhisions,  and  references. 
^-^•^^r — '   XQ,i  we  must  all  feel  how  thoroughl}'  Hellenistic  it  also  is  in  its  cast.^ 
in  what  it  reports  and  what  it  omits — in  short,  in  its  whole  aim; 
how  adapted  to  Hellenist  wants  its  presentation  of  deep  central 
truths;  how  suitably,  in  the  report  of  His  Discourses — even  so  far 
as  their  form  is  concerned — the  promise  was  here  fulfilled,  of  bringin"^ 
» St.  John     all  things  to  remembrance  whntmoever  He  had  said/     It  is  the  true 
Light  which  shineth,   of  which  the  full  meridian-blaze  lies  on  the 
Hellenist  and  Hellenic  world.     There  is  Alexandrian  form  of  thought 
not  only  in  the  whole  conception,  but  in   the  Logos,  ^  and  in  His 
presentation  as  the   Light,  the  Life,  the  Wellspring  of  the  world.'' 
But  these  forms  are  filled  in  the  fourth  Gospel  with  quite  other  sub- 
stance.   God  is  not  afar  off,  uncognisable  by  man,  without  properties, 
without  name.     He  is  the  Father.     Instead  of  a  nebulous  reflection 
(\  of  the  Deity  we  have  the  Person  of  the  Logos;  not  a  Logos  with 

^  %-'f"*-^-'      the  two  potencies  of  goodness  and  power,  but  full  of  grace  and 
^  aJ^  J      truth.     The  Gospel  of  St.  John  also  begins  with  a  ^Bereshith' — but 
*^*  it  is  the  theological,  not  the  cosmic  Bereshith,  when  the  Logos  was 

f  /?/*/^  with  God  and  was  God.     Matter  is  not  pre-existent;  far  less  is  it 

/   At^Xf  ^        g^,^j_     g^_  John  strikes  the  pen  through  Alexandrianism  when  he  lays 
it  down  as  the  fundamental  fact  of  New  Testament  history  that  '  the 

1  A  coiiipleineut,  not  a  supplement,  as  on  statements  so  entirel.y  hiaccurate. 
many  critics  put  it  {Eirald,  Weizsacker,  ^  Dr.  Buclie);  whose  book,  Des  Apos- 

and  even  Hengstenberg) — least  of  all  a  tels  Johannes  Lehre  vom  Logos,  deserves 

rectification  {Godet,  Evang.  Job.  p.  63.3).  careful  perusal,  tries  to  trace  the  reason 

''  Keim  (Leben  Jesu  von  Nazara,  i.  a,  of  these  peculiarities  as  indicated  in  the 

pp.  112-114)  fully  recognises  this;  but  I  Prologue  of  the  fourth  Gospel.     Bucher 

entirely  differ   from  tlie  conclusions  of  differentiates  at  great  lengtli  between  the 

his  analytical  comparison  of  Philo  with  Logos  of  Philo  and  of  tlie  fourtli  Gospel, 

the  fourth  Gospel.  •  He  sums  up  his  views  by  stating  that  in 

'*  The  student  who  has  carefully  con-  the  Prologue  of  St.  John  the  Logos  is 
sidered  the  views  ex])ressed  by  Philo  presented  as  the  fulness  of  Divine  Light 
about  the  Logos,  and  analysed,  as  in  and  Life.  This  is,  so  to  speak,  tlie  tlieme, 
the  Appendix,  the  passages  in  the  Tar-  Avliile  the  Gospel  history  is  intended  to 
gumira  in  which  the  word  Memra  oc-  present  the  Logos  as  the  giver  of  tiiis 
curs,  cannot  fail  to  perceive  the  im-  Divine  Light  and  Life.  While  the  otiier 
mense  difference  in  the  presentation  of  Evangelists  ascend  from"  the  manifesta- 
the  Logos  hy  St.  John.  Yet  M.  Rcikui.  tion  to  the  idea  of  the  Son  of  God.  St. 
in  an  article  in  the  '  Contemi)orary  Re-  John  descends  from  the  idea  of  the  Logos, 
view'  for  September  1877,  with  utter  as  expressed  in  tlie  Prologue,  to  its  con- 
disregard  of  the  historical  evidence  on  crete  realisation  in  His  history.  The 
the  question,  maintains  not  only  the  latest  tractate  (at  the  present  writing, 
identity  of  these  three  sets  of  ideas,  but  1882)  on  the  Gospel  of  St.  Joim,  by  l)r. 
actually  grounds  on  it  his  argument  31uller,  Die  Johann.  Frage,  gives  a 
against  the  authenticity  of  the  fourth  good  summary  of  the  argument  on  both 
Gospel.  Considering  the  importance  of  sides,  and  deserves  the  careful  attention 
the  subject,  it  is  not  easy  to  sjieak  witli  of  students  of  the  question, 
moderation  of  assertions  so  bold  based 


THE    LAST   AVORD   OF   EASTERN   AND   WESTERN    .TUDAISM.  57 

Logos  was  made  tiesh,'  just  as  St.  Paul  does  when  he  proclaims  the     chap. 
great  mysteiy  of  'God  manifest  in  the  flesh.'     Best  of  all,  it  is  not         iv 
by  a  long  course  of  study,  nor  by  wearing  discipline,  least  of  all  \)\  '- — ~' — 
an  inl)orn  good  disposition,  that  the  soul  attains  the  new  life,  but  1)y 
a  birth  from  above,  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  by  simple  faith  which  is 
brought  witliin  reach  of  the  fallen  and  the  lost.^ 

Pliilo  had  no  successor.  In  him  Hellenism  had  completed  its 
cycle.  Its  message  and  its  mission  were  ended.  Henceforth  it 
needed,  like  Apollos,  its  great  representative  in  the  Christian  Church, 
two  things:  the  baptism  of  John  to  the  knowledge  of  sin  and  need, 
iind  to  have  the  way  of  God  more  perfectly  expounded.''  On  the  "Actsxviii. 
other  hand,  Elastern  Judaism  had  entered  with  Hillel  on  a  new  stage. 
This  direction  led  farther  and  farther  away  from  that  which  the  New 
Testament  had  taken  in  following  up  and  unfolding  the  spiritual 
elements  of  the  Old.  That  development  was  incapable  of  transfor- 
mation or  renovation.  It  must  go  on  to  its  final  completion — and  be 
either  true,  or  else  be  swept  away  and  destroyed. 

'  I  cannot  agree  with  Weiss  (u.  s.,  p.  to  the  Apostle's  mind,  as  evidenced  in 

122)  that  the  great  object  of  tlie  fourth  his  Epistle,  but  the  object  in  view  could 

Gospel  was  to  oppose  the  rising  Gnostic  not  have  been  mainly,  nor  even  primarily, 

movement,     This  may  have  been  present  negative  and  controversial. 


58  THE   PREPARATION  FOR   THE   GOrfPEL. 


chaptp:r  y. 

ALEXANDRIA  AND  ROME — THE  JEWISH  COMMUNITIES  IN  THE  CAPITALS 

OF  ^\•^:8TERN  civilisation. 

BOOK  We  have  spoken  of  Alrxaiidria  as  the  eajjital  of  the  Jewish  world  in 
I  tlie  West.     Antioch  was,  indeed,  nearer  to  Palestine,  and  its  Jewish 

-— ^^ — ^  population — inchuling  the  tloating  ])art  of  it — as  numerous  as  that 
of  Alexandria.  But  the  wealth,  the  thought,  and  the  influence  of 
Western  Judaism  eentred  in  the  modern  capital  of  the  land  of  the 
Pharaohs.  In  those  days  Greece  was  the  land  of  the  past,  to  which 
the  student  might  resort  as  the  home  of  beauty  and  of  art,  the  time- 
hallowed  temple  of  thought  and  of  poetry.  But  it  was  also  the  land 
of  desolatcness  and  of  ruins,  where  fields  of  corn  waved  over  the 
remains  of  classic  anticpiity.  The  ancient  Greeks  had  in  great  measure 
sunk  to  a  nation  of  traders,  in  keen  competition  with  the  Jews. 
Indeed,  Roman  sway  had  levelled  the  ancient  world,  and  buried  its 
national  characteristics.  It  was  otherwise  in  the  far  P]ast;  it  was 
otherwise  also  in  Egypt.  Egypt  was  not  a  land  to  l)e  largely  in- 
habited, or  to  be  'civilised'  in  the  then  sense  of  the  term:  soil, 
climate,  history,  nature  forbade  it.  Still,  as  now,  and  even  more 
than  now,  was  it  the  dream-land  of  untold  attractions  t(j  the  traveller. 
The  ancient,  mysterious  Nile  still  rolled  its  healing  waters  out  into  the 
blue  sea,  where  (so  it  was  supposed)  they  changed  its  taste  within  a 
radius  farther  than  the  eye  could  reach.  To  ha  gently  borne  in  bark 
or  ship  on  its  waters,  to  watch  the  strange  vegetation  and  fauna  of 
its  banks  ;  to  gaze  beyond,  where  they  merged  into  the  trackless 
desert ;  to  wander  under  the  shade  of  its  gigantic  monuments,  or 
within  the  wierd  avenues  of  its  colossal  temples,  to  see  the  scroll  of 
mysterious  hieroglyphics  ;  to  note  the  sameness  of  manner  and  of 
people  as  oi  old,  and  to  watch  the  unique  rites  of  its  ancient  religion 
— this  was  indeed  to  be  again  in  the  old  far-away  world,  and  that 
amidst  a  dreaminess  bewitching  the  senses,  and  a  gorgeousness 
dazzling  the  imagination.  ^ 

'   Wliat    cliann    Euypt    liad     tor    tlie       of  tlicir  mosaics  and  frescoes.      Coiiip. 
Romans  may  be  withered  from  so  many       Frii-dlnndi'r,  w.  s.  vol,  ii.  pp.  i:U-l:i(i. 


FIRST    VIKW    OF    Ar.EXAXDl.MA.  59 

We  arc  still  far  out  at  sea,  iiiakiug  for  the  port  of  Alcxiiiidria — 
the  only  safe  shelter  all  along  the  coast  of  Asia  and  Africa.  Quite 
thirty  miles  out  the  silver  sheen  of  the  lighthouse  on  the  island  of 
Pharos' — connected  l)y  a  mole  with  Alexandria — is  burning  like  a 
star  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  Now  we  catch  sight  of  the  palm- 
groves  of  Pharos;  presently  the  anchor  rattles  and  grates  on  the 
sand,  and  we  arc  ashore.  What  a  crowd  of  vessels  of  all  sizes,  shapes, 
and  nationalities;  what  a  multitude  of  busy  people;  what  a  very 
IJabel  of  languages;  what  a  commingling  of  old  and  new  world  civi- 
lisation; and  what  a  variety  of  wares  piled  up,  loading  or  unloading! 

Alexandria  itself  was  not  an  old  Egyptian,  but  a  comparatively 
modern,  city;  in  ICgypt  and  yet  not  of  Egypt.  Everything  was  in 
character — the  city,  its  inhabitants,  public  life,  art,  literature,  study, 
amusements,  the  very  aspect  of  the  place.  Nothing  original  anywhere, 
but  combination  of  all  that  had  been  in  the  ancient  world,  or  that 
was  at  the  time — most  fitting  place  therefore  to  be  the  capital  of 
Jewish  Hellenism. 

As  its  name  indicates,  the  city  was  founded  by  Alexander  the 
Great.  It  was  built  in  the  form  of  an  o])en  fan,  or  rather,  of  the 
outspread  cloak  of  a  Macedonian  horseman.  Altogether,  it  measured 
(16,360  paces)  8,160  paces  more  than  Rome;  but  its  houses  Avere 
neither  so  crowded  nor  so  many-storied.  It  had  been  a  large  city 
when  Rome  was  still  inconsiderable,  and  to  the  last  held  the  second 
place  in  the  Emi)ire.  One  of  the  five  quarters  into  which  the  city  was 
di\ided,  and  which  were  named  according  to  the  first  letters  of  the 
alphal)et,  was  wholly  covered  by  the  royal  palaces,  with  their  gardens, 
and  similar  buildings,  including  the  royal  mausoleum,  where  the  body 
of  Alexander  the  Great,  preserved  in  honey,  was  kept  in  a  glass  coffin. 
But  these,  and  its  three  miles  of  colonnades  along  the  principal  high- 
way, were  only  some  of  the  magnificent  architectural  adornments  of 
a  city  full  of  palaces.  The  population  amounted,  })robably,  to  nearly 
a  million,  drawn  from  the  East  and  West  by  trade,  the  attractions  of 
wealth,  the  facilities  for  study,  or  the  amusements  of  a  singularly 
frivolous  city.  A  strange  mixture  of  elements  among  the  people, 
combining  the  quickness  and  versatility  of  the  Greek  with  the  gra- 
vity, the  conservatism,  the  dream-grandeur,  and  the  luxury  of  the 
Eastern. 

Three  worlds  met  in  Alexandria:    Europe,  Asia,  and  Africa;  and 

1  Tliis  immense  lighthouse  was  square  recorded  repairs  to  tliis  nia,s;nilioent 
up  to  tiie  middle,  then  covered  by  an  structure  of  blocks  of  marble  were  made 
octagon,  the  top  lieing  round.     The  last      in  the  year  1303  of  our  era. 


60  THE   PREPAKATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK      brought  to  it,  or  fetched  from  it,  their  treasures.     Ahoveall,  it  was  a 
I  comiuercial  city,  furnished  with  anexceHent  harbour — or  rather  with 

^— ^* five  harbours.     A  special  fleet  carried,  as  tribute,  from  Alexandria  to 

Italy,  two-tenths  of  the  corn  produce  of  Egypt,  which  sufficed  to  feed 
the  cajntal  for  four  months  of  the  year.  A  magnificent  fleet  it  was, 
from  tlie  liglit  (juick  sailer  to  those  immense  corn-ships  wliich  hoisted 
a  special  flag,  and  whose  earh*  arrival  was  awaited  at  Puteoli^  with 
more  eagerness  than  tliatof  any  modern  ocean-steamer.^  The  com- 
merce of  India  was  in  the  hands  of  the  Alexandrian  shippers.*  Since 
the  days  of  the  Ptolemies  the  Indian  trade  alone  had  increased  six- 
fold.* Xor  was  the  native  industry  inconsiderable.  Linen  goods,  to 
suit  tlie  tastes  or  costumes  of  all  countries:  woolen  stuffs  of  every 
hue,  some  curiously  wrought  with  figures,  and  even  scenes;  glass  of 
every  shade  and  in  every  shape;  paper  from  the  thinnest  sheet  to  the 
coarsest  ]ia eking  paper;  essences,  perfumeries — such  were  the  native 
products.  However  idly  or  luxuriously  inclined,  still  every  one  seemed 
busy,  in  a  city  where  (as  the  Emperor  Hadrian  expressed  it)  'money 
was  the  people's  god; '  and  every  one  seemed  well-to-do  in  liis  own 
way,  from  tlie  waif  in  the  streets,  who  with  little  troulile  to  himself 
could  pick  uj)  sufficient  to  go  to  the  restaurant  and  enjoy  a  comfort- 
aljle  dinner  of  fresh  or  smoked  fish  with  garlic,  and  his  pudding,  washed 
down  with  the  favourite  Egyptian  l)arleybeer,  up  to  the  millionaire 
banker,  who  owned  a  palace  in  the  city  and  a  villa  by  the  canal  that 
connected  Alexandria  with  Canobus.  What  a  jostling  crowd  of  all 
nations  in  the  streets,  in  the  market  (where,  according  to  the  joke  of 
a  contemporary,  anything  might  be  got  except  snow),  or  by  the  hai-- 
bours;  what  cool  shades,  delicious  retreats,  vast  halls,  magnificent 
libraries,  where  the  savants  of  Alexandria  assembled  and  taught  every 
conceivable  branch  of  learning,  and  its  far-famed  i)Iiysicians  prescribed 

^  The  average  passage  from  Alexandria  were   small  ships  comparefl  witJi  those 

to  Puteoli  was  twelve   days,  the   ships  built  for  the  conveyance  of  marble  blocks 

touching  at  Malta  and  in  Sicily.     It  was  and  columns,  and  especially  of  obelisks, 

in  such  a  ship,  the  'Castor  and  Pollux,'  One  of  these  is  said  to  have  carried,  be- 

carrying  wheat,  that  St.  Paul  sailed  from  sides    an   obelisk,    1.200   passengers,    a 

Malta  to   Puteoli.    where   it   would    be  freight  of  paper,    nitre,    pepper,   linen, 

among  the  first  arrivals  of  the  season.  and  a  large  cargo  of  wheat. 

2  They  bore,  painted  on  the  two  sides  ■'*  The  journey  took  about  three  months, 

of  the  prow,  the  emblems  of  the  gods  to  either  up  the  Nile,  thence  by  caravan, 

whom   they  were    dedicated,    and  were  and  again  by  sea;  or  else  i)erhap8  Ijy 

navigated  by  Egyptian  pilots,  the  most  the  Ptolemy  Canal  and  the  Red  Sea. 

renowned  in  the  world.      One  of  these  *  It    included    gold-dust,    ivory,    and 

vessels   is  described  as  180  by  45  feet,  mother-of-pearl     from    the    interior    of 

and  of  about  1,. 575  tons,  and  is  computed  Africa,  spices  from  Arabia,  pearls  from 

to  have  returned  to   its  owner  nearly  the    Gulf    of    Persia,    precious    stones 

3,000-'.  annually.     (Comp.  Frifdldnder,  and  byssus  from  India,  and  silk  from 

u.  s.  vol.  ii.  p.  i;^l,  itc.)    And  yet  these  China. 


JEWISH  POPULATION   OF   ALEXANDRIA.  61 

for   tlio   poor   consumptive   patients   sent  thither  from  all  parts  of     CHAP. 
Italy!     What  bustle  and  noise  among-  that  ever  excitable,  chatty,  con-         ^^ 
ceited,  vain,  pleasure-loving  multitude,  whose  highest  enjoyment  was  ^-"^f — -' 
the  theatre  and  singers;  what  scenes  on  that  long  canal  to  Canobus, 
lined  with  luxurious  inns,  where  barks  full  of  pleasure-seekers  revelled 
in  the  cool  shade  of  the  banks,  or  sped  to  Canobus,  that  scene  of  all 
dissipation  and  luxury,  proverbial  even  in  those  days!     And  yet,  close 
by,  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Mareotis,  as  if  in  grim  contrast,  were  the 
chosen  retreats  of  that  sternly  ascetic  Jewish  party,  the  Therapeutas,  *  ^  on  the  ex- 

_  ^  ^  ^  ist6ncG  of 

whose  views  and  practices  m  so  many  iiomts  were  kindred  to  those  tue  Tuera- 

.  *  peutes 

of  the  Essenes  in  Palestine!  comp. Art. 

I'hilo  in 

This  sketch  of  Alexandria  will  help  us  to  understand  the  sur-  smith  & 

Wace's 

roundings  of  the  large  mass  of  Jews  settled  m  the  Egyptian  capital.    Diet,  of 
Altogetlier  more  than  an  eighth  of  the  population  of  the  country  yoi.  iv. 
(one  million  in  7,800,000)  was  Jewish.     Whether  or  not  a  Jewish 
colony  had  gone  into  Egypt  at  the  time  of  Nebuchadnezzar,  or  even 
earlier,  the  great  mass  of  its  residents  had  been  attracted  by  Alexander 
the  Great,"  who  had  granted  the  Jews  equally  exceptional  privileges  ^Mommsm 
with  the  Macedonians.     The  later  troubles  of  Palestine  under  the  Gesch.  v.  p. 

489) 

Svrian  kings  greatly  swelled  their  number,  the  more  so  that  the  ascribes 

'^      '^  "^  .  '  this  rather 

Ptolemies,  with  one  exception,  favoured  them.  Originally  a  special  toptoiemy 
quarter  had  been  assigned  to  the  Jews  in  the  city — the  '  Delta  '  by  the 
eastern  harbour  and  the  Canobus  canal — -probably  alike  to  keep  the 
community  separate,  and  from  its  convenience  for  commercial  purposes. 
The  privileges  which  the  Ptolemies  had  accorded  to  the  Jews  were 
confirmed,  and  even  enlarged,  hy  Julius  Caesar.  The  export  trade  in 
grain  was  now  in  their  hands,  and  the  harbour  and  river  police  com- 
mitted to  their  charge.  Two  quarters  in  the  city  arc  named  as  spe- 
cially Jewish — not,  however,  in  the  sense  of  their  being  confined  to 
them.  Their  Synagogues,  surrounded  by  shady  trees,  stood  in  all 
parts  of  the  city.  But  the  chief  glory  of  the  Jewish  community  in 
Egypt,  of  which  even  the  Palestinians  boasted,  was  the  great  central 
Synagogue,  Iniilt  in  the  shape  of  a  basilica,  with  double  colonnade, 
and  so  large  that  it  needed  a  signal  for  those  most  distant  to  know 
the  proper  moment  for  the  responses.  Tlie  different  trade  guilds  sat 
there  together,  so  that  a  stranger  would  at  once  know  where  to  find 
Jewish  employers  or  fellow-workmen."  In  the  choir  of  this  Jewish  ^sukk.  5if. 
cathedral  stood  seventy  chairs  of  state,  encrusted  with  precious  stones, 
for  the  seventy  elders  who  constituted  the  eldership  of  Alexandria,  on 
the  model  of  the  great  Sanhedrin  in  Jerusalem. 

It  is  a  strange,  almost  iiiexi)licable  fact,  that  the  Egyptian  Jews 


Q2  THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK      liad  actually  built  a  sehisuuitic  Temple.     Duriug  the  terrible  Syrian 
I  persecutions  in  Palestine  Onias,  the  son  of  the  murdered  High-Priest 

^^■— ,^ '   Onias  III.,  had  sought  safety  in  Egypt.     Ptolemy  Philometor  not 

only  received  him  kindly,  but  gave  a  disused  heathen  temple  in  the  town 
of  Leontopolis  for  a  Jewish  sanctuary.     Here  a  new  Aaronic  priest- 
hood ministered,  their  support  being  derived  from  the  revenues  of  the 
district  around.     The  new  Temple,  however,  resembled  not  that  of 
Jerusalem  either  in  outward  appearance  nor  in  all  its  internal  tittings.* 
At  tirst  the  Egyptian  Jews  were  very  i)roud  of  their  new  sanctuary, 
"Is.  xix.  18  and  professed  to  see  in  it  the  fultilment  of  the  prediction,^  that  tive 
cities  in  the  land  of  Egypt  should  speak  the  language  of  Canaan,  of 
which  one  was  to  be  called  Ir-ha-Heres,  which  tlio  LXX.  (in  their 
original  form,  or  by  some  later  emendation)  altered  into   '  the  city  of 
righteousness.'     This  temple  continued  from  about  160  B.C.  to  shortly 
after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  ,  It  could  scarcely  be  called  a  rival 
to  that  on  Mount  Moriah,  since  the  P^gyptian  Jews  also  owned  that  of 
Jerusalem  as  their  central  sanctuary,  to  which  tliey  made  pilgrimages 
^phiioAi.      and  brought  their  contributions,'' while  the  priests  at  Leontopolis, 
Ma'ngey       bcforc  uiarrving,  always  consulted  the  official  archives  in  Jerusalem  to 
cjos  Ag.       ascertain  the  puritv  of  descent  of  their  intended  wives."     The  Pales- 

Ap.  1.  7  1  . 

tinians  designated  it  contemptuously  as  '  the  house  of  Chonyi '  (Onias), 
and  declared  the  priesthood  of  Leontopolis  incapable  of  serving  in  Jeru- 
salem, although  on  a  par  with  those  who  were  disqualified  only  by  some 
bodily  defect.  Offerings  brought  in  Leontopolis  were  considered  null, 
unless  in  the  case  of  vows  to  which  the  name  of  this  Temple  had  been 
a  Men.  xiii.   cxprcsslv  attached.'*     This  qualified  condemnation  seems,  however, 

10,  and  the  ^  "^        .  ^  ....  , 

Gemara.       strangelv  mild,  excei)t  on  the  supposition  that  the  statements  we  have 

109  a  and  b  "-     "^  '  ^  .1,^^1,111  1 

quoted  only  date  from  a  time  when  both  Temples  had  long  passed 
away. 

Nor  were  such  feelings  unreasonable.  The  Egyptian  Jews  had 
spread  on  all  sides — southward  to  Aliyssinia  and  Ethiopia,  and  west- 
ward to,  and  beyond,  the  province  of  Cyrene.  In  the  city  of  that 
name  they  formed  one  of  the  four  classes  into  which  its  inha!)itants 
-  strabo  in  wcrc  divided."  A  Jewish  inscription  at  Berenice,  apparently  dating 
xiv.  7, 2'  from  the  year  13  B.C.,  shows  that  the  Cyrenian  Jews  formed  a  distinct 
community  under  nine  'rulers  '  of  their  own,  who  no  doulit  attended 
to  the  communal  affairs — not  always  an  easy  matter,  since  the 
Cyrenian  Jews  were  noted,  if  not  for  turbulence,  yet  for  strong  anti- 


^  Iii.stoivd  of  the  seven-branched  golden      suspended   from   a  chain   of   tlie 
candlestick  there   was  a  golden   lamp,      metal. 


SOCIAL   STATUS   OF   THE    EGYPTIAN   JEWS.  03 

Koiiian  feeling,  which  more  than  once  was  cruelly  quenched  in  blood. ^     CHAP. 

Other  inscriptions  prove,-  that  in  otlier  places  of  their  dispersion  also  V 

the  Jews  had  their  own  Archontes  or  'rulers, '  while  the  special  direction  ^— -y— -^ 

of  pul)lic  worship  was  always  entrusted  to  the  Archisynagogos,  or 

'chief  ruler  of  the  Synag-ogue, '  both  titles  occurring  side  by  side.^ 

It  is,   to  say  the  least,   very  doubtful,   whether  the  High-Priest  at 

Leontopolis  was  ever  regarded  as,  in  any  real  sense,  the  liead  of  the 

Jewish  community  in  Egypt.*     In  Alexandria,  the  Jews  were  under 

the  rule  of  a  Jewish  EfJinarch,''  whose  authority  was  similar  to  that 

of  'the  Archoii'  of  independent    cities."      But    his  authority''  was   "Straboin 

transferred,  l)y  Augustus,  to  the  whole  'eldership.'''    Another,  prob-  siv.  7.  2' 

ably  Roman,  office,  though  for  obvious  reasons  often  filled  by  Jews,    '^hlcc"'ia 

was  that  of  the  Alabarch,  or  ratlier  Arnbardi,  who  was  set  over  the  ^^-nsey,  n. 

Arab  population."     Among  others,  Alexander,  the  brother  of  Philo, 

lield  this  post.     If  we  may  judge  of  the  position  of  the  wealthy  Jewish 

lamilies  in  Alexandria  by  that  of  this  Alabarch,  their  influence  must 

have  been  very  great.     The  firm  of  Alexander  was  jn'obalily  as  rich  as 

the  great  Jewish  bankinu-  and  shiiiping  liouse  of  Saranialla  in  Antioch."  '  Jos.  Ant. 

T  .     „  .  Xiv.  la.  5; 

Its   chief  was    entrusted    with    the    management   of  the    aflairs   of  war.  1. 13,5 

Antonia,  the  much  respected  sister-in-law  of  the  Emperor  Tiberius."  ;jAnt.  xix. 

It  was  a  small  thing  for  such  a  man  to  lend  King  Agrippa,  when  liis 

fortunes  were  very  low,  a  sum  of  about  7,000/.  with  which  to  resort 

to  Italv,'' since  he  advanced  it  on  the  guarantee  of  Agrippa's  wife,   "Ant. xvui. 

^  6. 3 

whom  he  highly  esteemed,  and  at  the  same  time  made  provision  that 

the   money   should   not   be    all    spent   l)efbre   the    Prince    met    the 

Emperor.     Besides,  he  had  his  own  i>lans  in  the  matter.     Two  of  his 

sons    married   daughters    of  King  Agrippa;  while  a  third,   at   the 

price  of  apostasy,  rose  successively  to  the  posts  of   Procurator  of 

Palestine,  and  finally  of  Governor  of  Egypt.'     The  Temple  at  Jeru-  'Ant.  xix. 

salem  bore  evidence  of  the  wealth  and  munificence  of  this  Jewish 

millionaire.     The  gold  and  silver  with  which  the  nine  massive  gates 

^  Could   there    liave    been    any   such  fi29).     The  subject  is  of  great  imiwrtance 

meaning  in  laying  tlie  Roman  cross  which  as  illustrating  the  rule  of  the  Synagogue 

Jesus  had  to  bear  upon  a  Cyrenian  (St.  in  the  days  of  Christ.    Another  desigua- 

Luke  xxiii.  2(5)?     A  symbolical  meaning  tion  on  the  gravestones  vrarijp  crvva- 

It  certainly  has,  as  we  remember  that  the  ycoyrfi  seems  to  refer  solely  to  age — 

last    Jewish    rebellion    (132-135    a.d.);  one  being  described  as  110  years  old. 

which  bad  Bar  Cochba  for  its  Messiah,  *  Jost,  Gesch.  d.  Judenth.  i.  p.  345. 

first  broke  out  in  Cyrene.    "What  terrible  *  3farquard(  (Rom.  Staatsverwalt.  vol. 

vengeance  was  taken  on  those  who  fol-  i.  p.  297).     Note  5  suggests  that  sBvo? 

lowed  the  false  Christ,  cannot  here  be  may  here  mean  clai^ses,  ordo. 

told.  «  The  office  itself  would  seem  to  have 

'^  Jewisli  inscriptions  have  also  been  been  continued.     (Jos.  Ant.  xix.  5.  2.) 

found  in  Mauritania  and  Algiers.  ''  Comp.     WesKeliug,  de  Jud.  Archont. 

^  Onatomljstoneat  Capua(3/i9?»?H.sp»,  pp.  (i3,  &c.,  i\\)m\  ScliUrer,  pp.  ()27,  (i28. 
Inscr.    R.  Neai).  3,()57,  apud  Schurer,  \). 


64 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


•  Probably 
about  200 

B.C. 


were  covered,  which  led  into  the  Temple,  were  the  gift  of  the  great 
Alexandrian  banker. 

The  possession  of  such  wealth,  conpled  no  doubt  with  pride  and 
self-assertion,  and  openly  spoken  contempt  of  the  superstitions  around,' 
would  naturally  excite  the  hatred  of  the  Alexandrian  populace  against 
the  Jews.  The  greater  number  of  those  silly  stories  about  the  origin, 
early  history,  and  religion  of  the  Jews,  which  even  the  philosophers 
and  historians  of  Rome  record  as  genuine,  originated  in  Egypt.  A 
whole  series  of  writers,  beginning  with  Manetho,''  made  it  their 
business  to  give  a  kind  of  historical  travesty  of  the  events  recorded  in 
the  books  of  Moses.  The  boldest  of  these  scribblers  was  Apion,  to 
whom  Josephus  replied — a  world-famed  charlatan  and  liar,  who  wrote 
or  lectured,  with  equal  presumption  and  falseness,  on  every  conceivable 
object.  He  was  just  the  man  to  suit  the  Alexandrians,  on  Avhom  his 
unblushing  assurance  imposed.  In  Rome  he  soon  found  his  level,  and 
the  Emperor  Tiberius  well  characterised  the  irrepressible  boastful 
talker  as  the  '  tinkling  cymbal  of  the  world.'  He  had  studied,  seen, 
and  heard  everything — even,  on  three  occasions,  the  mysterious  sound 
on  the  Colossus  of  Memnon,  as  the  sun  rose  upon  it!  At  least,  so  he 
graved  upon  the  Colossus  itself,  for  the  information  of  all  generations.'^ 
Such  was  the  man  on  whom  the  Alexandrians  conferred  the  freedom 
of  their  city,  to  whom  they  entrusted  their  most  important  affairs,  and 
whom  they  extolled  as  the  victorious,  the  laborious,  the  new  Homer.  ^ 
There  can  be  little  doubt,  that  the  popular  favour  was  jjartly  due  to 
Apion's  virulent  attacks  upon  the  Jews.  His  grotesque  accounts  of 
their  history  and  religion  held  them  up  to  contempt.  But  his  real 
object  was  to  rouse  the  fanaticism  of  the  populace  against  the  Jews. 
Every  year,  so  he  told  them,  it  was  the  practice  of  the  Jews  to  get 
hold  of  some  unfortunate  Hellene,  whom  ill-chance  might  bring  into 
their  hands,  to  fatten  him  for  the  year,  and  then  to  sacrifice  him, 
partaking  of  his  entrails,  and  burying  the  body,  while  during  these 
horrible  rites  they  took  a  fearful  oath  of  ])cri)etual  enmity  to  the  Greeks. 
These  were  the  people  who  battened  on  the  wealth  of  Alexandria,  who 
had  usurped  quarters  of  the  city  to  which  they  had  no  right,  and 
claimed  exceptional  privileges;  a  peoi)lc  who  had  proved  traitors 
to,  and  the  ruin  of  every  one  who  had  trusted  them.  '  If  the 
Jews,'  he  exclaimed,  'are  citizens  of  Alexandria,  why  do  they  not 
worship  the  same  gods  as  the  Alexandrians  ? '     And,  if  they  wished 


'  Comp.,  for  example,  such  a  trenchant 
chapter  as  Baruch  vi.,  or  the  2nd  Fragm. 
of  the  Erythr.  Sibyl,  vv.  21-33. 

''■  Comp.    Friedlander,  n.  s.  ii.  p.  155. 


3  A  very  good  sketch  of  Apion  is  given 
by  Hausrath,  Neutest.  Zeitg.  vol.  ii.  pp. 
187-195. 


65 


ESTIMATE   OF   JUDAISM   IN   ROME. 

to  enjoy  the  protection  of  the  Csesars,  why  did  they  not  erect  statues, 
and  pay  Divine  honor  to  them?^  There  is  nothing  strange  in  these 
appeals  to  the  fanaticism  of  mankind.  In  one  form  or  another,  they 
have  only  too  often  been  repeated  in  all  lands  and  ages,  and,  alas!  by 
the  representatives  of  all  creeds.  Well  might  the  Jews,  as  Phihj 
mourns, '  wish  no  better  for  themselves  than  to  be  treated  like  other  "Leg.  ad 

,  Caj.  etl. 

men !  Frcf. 

We  liave  already  seen,  that  the  ideas  entertained  in  Rome  about 
the  Jews  were  chieily  derived  from  Alexandrian  sources.  But  it  is 
not  easy  to  understand,  how  a  Tacitus,  Cicero,  or  Pliny  could  have 
credited  such  al)surdities  as  that  the  Jews  had  come  from  Crete 
(Mount  Ida — Id£ei=Jud8ei),  been  expelled  on  account  of  leprosy  from 
Egypt,  and  emigrated  under  an  apostate  priest,  Moses;  or  that  the 
Sabbath-rest  originated  in  sores,  which  had  obliged  the  wanderers  to 
stop  short  on  the  seventh  day;  or  that  the  Jews  worshipped  the  head 
of  an  ass,  or  else  Bacchus;  that  their  abstinence  from  swine's  flesh  was 
duo  to  remembrance  and  fear  of  leprosy,  or  else  to  the  worship  of  that 
animal — and  other  puerilities  of  the  like  kind.''  The  educated  Roman  ^Comp. 
regarded  the  Jew  with  a  mixture  of  contempt  and  anger,  all  the  more  Hist.v!2-t; 
keen  that,  according  to  his  notions,  the  Jew  had,  since  his  subjection  pos.'iV.  5 
to  Rome,  no  longer  a  right  to  his  religion;  and  all  the  more  bitter 
that,  do  what  he  might,  that  despised  race  confronted  him  everywhere, 
with  a  religion  so  uncompromising  as  to  form  a  wall  of  separation, 
and  with  rites  so  exclusive  as  to  make  them  not  only  strangers,  but 
enemies.  Such  a  phenomenon  was  nowhere  else  to  be  encountered. 
The  Romans  were  intensely  practical.  In  their  view,  political  life  and 
religion  were  not  oulj'  intertwined,  but  the  one  formed  part  of  the 
other.  A  religion  apart  from  a  political  organisation,  or  which 
offered  not,  as  a  quid  pro  quo,  some  direct  return  from  the  Deity  to  his 
votaries,  seemed  utterly  inconceivable.  Ever}"  country  has  its  own 
religion,  argued  Cicero,  in  his  appeal  for  Flaccus.  So  long  as  Jeru- 
salem was  unvanquished,  Judaism  might  claim  toleration;  but  had  not 
the  immortal  gods  shown  what  they  thought  of  it,  when  the  Jewish 
race  was  conquered?  This  was  a  kind  of  logic  that  appealed  to  the 
humblest  in  the  crowd,  which  thronged  to  hear  the  great  orator 
defending  his  client,  among  others,  against  the  charge  of  preventing 
the  transport  from  Asia  to  Jerusalem  of  the  annual  Temple-tribute. 
This  was  not  a  popular  accusation  to  bring  against  a  man  in  such  an 
assembly.  And  as  the  Jews — who,  to  create  a  disturbance,  had  (we 
are  told)  distributed  themselves  among  the  audience  in  such  numbers, 

'  Jos.  As-  Ap.  li.  4.  5.  fi. 


66 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK      that  Cicero  somewhat  rhetorically  declared,  he  would  fain  have  spoken 
I         with  bated  breath,  so  as  to  be  only  audible  to  the  judges — listened  t(j 

^- — 'r — '  the  great  orator,  they  must  have  felt  a  keen  pang  shoot  to  their  hearts 
while  he  held  them  up  to  the  scorn  of  the  heathen,  and  touched,  with 
rough  tinger,  their  open  sore,  as  he  urged  the  ruin  of  their  nation  as 
the  one  unanswerable  argument,  which  Materialism  could  bring 
against  the  religion  of  the  Unseen. 

And  that  religion — was  it  not,  in  the  words  of  Cicero,  a  *  barbar- 

»Hist.  Nat.  ous  superstition,'  and  were  not  its  adherents,  as  Pliny  had  it,"*  '  a  race 
distinguished  for  its  contempt  of  the  gods '  ?  To  begin  with  their 
theology.  The  Roman  philosopher  would  sympathise  with  disbelief  of 
all  sjiiritual  realities,  as,  on  the  other  hand,  he  could  understand  the 
popular  modes  of  worship  and  superstition.  But  what  was  to  be  said 
for  a  worship  of  something  quite  unseen,  an  adoration,  as  it  seemed 
to  him,  of  the  clouds  and  of  the  sky,  without  any  visible  symbol,  con- 
joined with  an  utter  rejection  of  every  other  form  of  religion — Asiatic, 
Egyptian,  Greek,  Roman — and  the  refusal  even  to  pay  the  customary 
Divine  honor  to  the  Csesars,  as  the  incarnation  of  Roman  power? 
Next,  as  to  their  rites.  Foremost  among  them  was  the  initiatory  rite 
of  circumcision,  a  constant  subject  for  coarse  jests.  What  could  be 
the  meaning  of  it;  or  of  what  seemed  like  some  ancestral  veneration 
for  the  pig,  or  dread  of  it,  since  they  made  it  a  religious  duty  not  to 
partake  of  its  flesh?  Their  Sabbath-observance,  however  it  had 
originated,  was  merely  an  indulgence  in  idleness.  •  The  fast  young 
Roman  literati  w^ould  find  their  amusement  in  wandering  on  the 
Sabbath-eve  through  the  tangled,  narrow  streets  of  the  Ghetto, 
watching  how  the  dim  lamp  within  shed  its  unsavory  light,  while  the 
inmates  mumbled  prayers  'with  blanched  lips;'"  or  they  would,  like 
Ovid,  seek  in  the  Synagogue  occasion  for  their  dissolute  amusements. 
The  Thursday  fast  was  another  target  for  their  wit.  In  short,  at  the 
best,  the  Jew  was  a  constant  theme  of  popular  merriment,  and  the 
theatre  would  resound  with  laughter  as  his  religion  was  lampooned, 
no  matter  how  absurd  the  stories,  or  how  poor  the  punning.' 

And  then,  as  the  proud  Roman  passed  on  the  Sabbath  through 
the  streets,  Judaism  would  obtrude  itself  upon  his  notice,  by  the 
shops  that  were  shut,  and  l^y  the  strange  figures  that  idly  moved  about 
in  holiday  attire.  They  were  strangers  in  a  strange  land,  not  only 
without  sympathy  with  what  passed  around,  but  with  marked 
contempt  and  abhorrence  of  it,  while  there  was  that  about  their 
whole  bearing,  which  expressed  the  unspoken  feeling,  that  the  time 
'  Comp.  the  quotation  of  such  scenes  in  the  Introd.  to  the  Midrash  on  Lamentations. 


•>  Persius  v. 
184 


ROMAN   HATRED   OF   THE   JEWs.  67 

of  Rome's  tall,  and  of  their  own  .sui)rcniacy,  was  at  hand.     To  put     CHAP, 
the  general  feeling  in  the  words  of  Tacitus,  the  Jews  kept  close  to-         ^^ 
gether,  and  were  ever  most  liberal  to  one  another  ;  but  they  were  tilled  "-^^r— ^ 
with  bitter  hatred  of  all  others.     They  would  neither  eat  nor  sleep 
with  strangers  ;  and  the  first  thing  which  they  taught  their  proselytes 
was  to  despise  the  gods,  to  renounce  their  own  country,  and  to  rend 
the  bonds  which  had  bound  them  to  parents,  children  or  kindred. 
To  be  sure,  there  was  some  ground  of  distorted  truth  in  these  charges. 
For,  the  Jew,  as  such,  was  only  intended  for  Palestine.     By  a  neces- 
sity, not  of  his  own  making,  he  was  now,  so  to  speak,  the  negative 
element  in  the  heathen  world;  yet  one  which,  do  what  he  might, 
would  always  obtrude  itself  upon  public  notice.     But  the  Roman 
satirists  went  further.     They  accused  the  Jews  of  such  hatred  of  all 
other  religionists,  that  they  would  not  even  show  the  way  to  any  who 
worshipped  otherwise,  nor  point  out  the  cooling  spring  to  the  thirsty."  "•/'"•  sat. 
According  to  Tacitus,  there  was  a  political  and  religious  reason  for 
this.     In  order  to  keep  the  Jews  separate  from  all  other  nations, 
Moses  had  given  them  rites,  contrary  to  those  of  any  other  race,  that 
they  might  regard  as  unholy  what  was  sacred  to  others,  and  as  lawful 
what  they  held  in  al)omination.^     Such  a  people  deserved  neither  "Hist. v.  13 
consideration  nor  pity  ;  and  when  the  historian  tells  how  thousands 
of  their  number  had   l)een   banished   by   Tiberius  to  Sardinia,   he 
dismisses  the  probal:)ility  of  their  perishing  in  that  severe  climate 
with    the    cynical    remark,   that    it    entailed    a    'poor  loss'"   (vile  ^Ann. u.ss, 

Comp.  Suff. 

damnum).  Tib.  36 

Still,  the  JcAV  was  there  in  the  midst  of  them.  It  is  impossible 
to  fix  the  date  when  the  first  Jewish  wanderers  found  their  way  to  the 
capital  of  the  world.  We  know,  that  in  the  wars  under  Pompey, 
Cassius,  and  Antonius,  many  were  brought  captive  to  Rome,  and  sold 
as  slaves.  In  general,  the  Republican  party  was  hostile,  the  Ca?sars 
were  friendly,  to  the  Jews.  The  Jewish  slaves  in  Rome  proved  an 
unprofitable  and  troublesome  acquisition.  They  clung  so  tenaciously 
to  their  ancestral  customs,  that  it  was  impossible  to  make  them  con- 
form to  the  wavs  of  heathen  households.''     How  far  they  would  carrv   'P/'iVo.Lejr. 

act  Caj.  pii. 

their  passive  resistance,  appears  from  a  story  told  l)y  Josephus,"  about  Frcf-  p-  wi 
some  Jewish  priests  of  his  acquaintance,  who,  during  their  captivity 
in  Rome,  refused  to  eat  anything  but  figs  and  nuts,  so  as  to  avoid  the 
defilement  of  Gentile  food.^     Their  Roman  masters  deemed  it  prudent 

^  Lutterbeck  (Neutest.  Lebrbegr.  p.  384,  402.  etc.).  re.siard.s  these  priests  as 
119),  follo\viii«:  up  the  suggestions  of  the  acousei's  of  8t.  Paul,  who  brought 
Wieseler  (Chroii.  <1.  Apost.  Zeitalt.  ])p.      about  liis  martynloiii. 


Life  ;i 


68  THE   PREPARATION  FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK  to  give  their  Jewish  slaves  their  freedom,  either  at  a  small  ransom,  or 
I  even  without  it.     These  freedmen  {liberti)  formed  the  nucleus  of  the 

^-"v^-^  Jewish  community  in  Rome,  and  in  great  measure  determined  its 
social  character.  Of  course  they  were,  as  always,  industrious,  sober, 
pushing.  In  course  of  time  many  of  them  acquired  wealtli.  By-and- 
by  Jewish  immigrants  of  greater  distinction  swelled  their  number. 
Still  their  social  position  was  inferior  to  that  of  their  co-religionists  in 
other  lands.  A  Jewish  population  so  large  as  40,000  in  tlie  time  of 
Augustus,  and  60,000  in  that  of  Til)erius,  would  naturally  include  all 
ranks — merchants,  bankers,  literati^  even  actors.^  In  a  city  which 
offered  such  temptations,  they  would  number  among  them  those  of 
every  degree  of  religious  profession ;  nay,  some  Avho  would  not  only 
imitate  the  habits  of  those  around,  but  try  to  outdo  their  gross 
licentiousness.^  Yet,  even  so,  they  would  vainly  endeavor  to  efface 
the  hateful  mark  of  being  Jews. 

Augustus  had  assigned  to  the  Jews  as  tlieir  special  quarter  the 
'  fourteenth  region  '  across  the  Tiber,  which  stretched  from  the  slope 
of  the  Vatican  onwards  and  across  the  Tiber-island,  where  the  boats 
from  Ostia  were  wont'to  unload.  This  seems  to  have  been  their  poor 
Mart. i.4i;  (juartcr,  chiefly  inhabited  by  hawkers,  sellers  of  matches,*  glass,  old 
clothes  and  second-hand  wares.  The  Jewish  ])urying-ground  in  that 
quarter*  gives  evidence  of  their  condition.  The  whole  appointments 
and  the  graves  are  mean.  There  is  neitlier  marble  nor  any  trace  of 
painting,  unless  it  be  a  rough  representation  of  the  seven-1)ranched 
candlestick  in  red  coloring.  Another  Jewish  quarter  Avas  l)y  the 
Porta  Capena,  where  the  Appian  Way  entered  the  city.  Close  by, 
the  ancient  sanctuary  of  Egeria  was  utilized  at  the  time  of  Juvenal  * 
as  a  Jewish  hawking  place.  But  there  must  have  been  richer  Jews 
also  in  that  neighl^orhood,  since  the  burying-place  tlierc  discovered 
has  paintings — some  even  of  mythological  figures,  of  which  the  meaning- 
has  not  yet  been  ascertained.  A  third  Jewish  burying-ground  was 
near  the  ancient  Christian  catacombs. 

But  indeed,  the  Jewish  residents  in  Rf)me  must  have  s])read  over 
every  quarter  of  tlio  city — even  the  l)est — to  judge  by  the  location  of 
their  Synagogues.  From  inscriptions,  we  have  been  made  acquainted 
not  only  with  the  existence,  but  with  the  names,  of  not  fewer  than 

'  Conip.,   for  exami)le.  Mart.  x\.  {)\;  Gesch.  Lsr.  vol.  vii.  p.  27. 
Jos.  Life  3.  ^  Described  by  Bnsio,  but  since   un- 

'^  Martialis,    n.   s.     The    ' Anc/n'ohis'  known.     Com\).Frie(Ud/ide7%  U.S.  vol. 

by  wbom  the  poet  would  have  the  Jew  iii.  pp.  510,  ~A\. 
swear,  is  a  corrui)tion  oi  Annchi  Elohhn  *  Sat.  iii.  13;  vi.  542. 

( '  I  am  God  ')  in  Ex.  xx.  2.  Com)).  EirahJ. 


Xll.  o 


ANCIENT   JEWISH   TOMBSTONES  AND   THEIR   TEACHING.  69 

seven  of  tlieso  Synagogues.  Three  of  them  respectively  bear  the 
names  of  Augustus,  Agripjja,  and  Vohnnnius,  eitlieras  tlieir  i)atrons, 
or  because  the  worshij)pers  were  cliietly  their  attencUints  and  clients: 
while  two  of  them  derived  tiieir  names  from  W\q,  Campua  Martua^,  and 
the  quarter  Suhura  in  wliich  they  stood.'  The  ^  Sijnafjocje  Elaias' 
may  have  been  so  called  from  bearing  on  its  front  the  device  of  an 
olive-tree,  a  favourite,  and  in  Rome  specially  signiticant,  emblem  of 
Israel,  whose  fruit,  crushed  beneath  heavy  weight,  would  yield  the 
[)recious  oil  by  which  the  Divine  light  would  shed  its  brightness 
through  the  night  of  heathendom.-  Of  course,  there  must  have 
been  other  Synagogues  besides  those  wdiose  names  have  been  dis- 
covered. 

One  other  mode  of  tracking  the  footsteps  of  Israel's  wanderings 
seems  strangely  signiticant.  It  is  l)y  tracing  their  records  among  the 
dead,  reading  them  on  broken  tombstones,  and  in  ruined  monuments. 
They  are  rude,  and  the  inscriptions — most  of  them  in  bad  Greek,  or 
still  worse  Latin,  none  in  Hebrew — are  like  the  stannnering  of 
strangers.  Yet  what  a  contrast  between  the  simple  faith  and  earnest 
hope  which  they  express,  and  the  grim  proclamation  of  utter  disbelief 
in  any  future  to  the  soul,  not  unmixed  with  language  of  coarsest 
materialism,  on  the  graves  of  so  many  of  the  polished  Romans ! 
Truly  the  pen  of  God  in  history  has,  as  so  often,  ratified  the  sentence 
which  a  nation  had  })ronounced  upon  itself.  That  civilisation  was 
doomed  which  could  inscribe  over  its  dead  such  words  as:  '  To  eternal 
sleep; '  'To  perpetual  rest; "  or  more  coarsely -express  it  thus,  '  I  was 
not,  and  I  became;  I  was,  and  am  no  more.  Thus  much  is  true;  who 
says  other,  lies;  for  I  shall  not  be,'  adding,  as  it  were  by  way  of 
moral,  '  And  thou  who  livest,  drink,  play,  come.'  Not  so  did  God 
teach  His  people:  and,  as  Ave  i)ick  our  way  among  these  broken 
stones,  we  can  understand  how  a  religion,  which  proclaimed  a  hope 
so  different,  must  have  spoken  to  the  hearts  of  nmny  even  at  R(une, 
and  much  more,  how  that  blessed  assurance  of  life  and  immortality, 
which  Christianity  afterwards  lu'ought,  could  win  its  tliousands, 
though  it  were  at  the  cost  of  poverty,  shame,  torture,  and  the 
arena. 

Wandering  from  graveyard  to  graveyard,  and  deciphering  the 
records  of  the  dead,  we  can  almost  read  the  history  of  Israel  in  the 
days  of  the  Caesars,  or  when  Paul  the  prisoner  set  foot  on  the  soil  of 
Italy.  When  St,  Paul,  on  the  journey  of  the  'Castor  and  I'ollux,' 
touched  at  Syracuse,  he  would,   during  his  stay  of  three  days,   find 

'  Coiiip.  Fripdiander.  u.  s.  vol.  iii.  p.  510.  -  Midr.  R.  <iii  Ex.  'M\. 


10 


THE   PREPARATION    FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
1 


■•'  Jns.  Ant. 
xvii.  12.  1; 
War  il.  7. : 


^  Acts 
xxviii.  17 


himself  ill  the  midst  of  u  Jewish  commimit}',  as  we  learn  trom  an 
inscription.  When  he  disembarked  at  Puteoli,  he  was  in  the  oldest 
Jewish  settlement  next  to  that  of  Rome,''  where  the  loving  hospitality 
of  Christian  Israelites  constrained  him  to  tarry  over  a  Sabbath.  As 
he  '  went  towards  Rome, '  and  reached  Capua,  he  would  meet  Jews 
there,  as  we  infer  from  the  tombstone  of  one  *  Alfius  Juda,'  who  had 
been  'Archon  '  of  the  Jews,  and  'Archisynagogus '  in  Cai)ua.  As  he 
neared  the  city,  he  found  in  Anxur  (Terracina)  a  Synagogue.  ^  In  Rome 
itself  the  Jewish  community  was  organized  as  in  other  places."  It 
sounds  strange,  as  after  these  many  centuries  we  again  read  the 
names  of  the  Archons  of  their  various  Synagogues,  all  Roman,  such  as 
Claudius,  Asteris,  Julian  (who  was  Archon  alike  of  the  Campesian  and 
the  Agrippesian  Synagogue  j^riest,  the  son  of  Julian  the  Archisyn- 
agogus,  or  chief  of  the  eldership  of  the  Augustesian  Synagogue). 
And  so  in  other  places.  On  these  tombstones  we  find  names  of 
Jewish  Synagogue-dignitaries,  in  every  centre  of  population — in 
Pompeii,  in  Venusia,  the  birthplace  of  Horace;  in  Jewish  catacombs; 
and  similarly  Jewish  inscriptions  in  Africa,  in  Asia,  in  the  islands  of 
the  Mediterranean,  in  ^-Egina,  in  Patrae,  in  Athens.  Even  where  as 
yet  records  of  their  early  settlements  have  not  been  discovered,  we 
still  infer  their  presence,  as  we  remember  the  almost  incredible  extent 
of  Roman  commerce,  which  led  to  such  large  settlements  in  Britain, 
or  as  we  discover  among  the  tombstones  those  of  '■  Syrian'  merchants, 
as  in  Spain  (where  St.  Paul  hoped  to  preach,  no  doubt,  also  to  his  own 
countrymen),  throughout  Gaul,  and  even  in  the  remotest  parts  of 
Germany.^  Thus  the  statements  of  Josephus  and  of  Philo,  as  to  the 
dispersion  of  Israel  throughout  all  lands  of  the  known  world,  are 
fully  borne  out. 

But  the  special  importance  of  the  Jewish  community  in  Rome  lay 
in  its  contiguity  to  the  seat  of  the  government  of  the  world,  where 
every  movement  could  be  watched  and  influenced,  and  where  it  could 
lend  support  to  the  wants  and  wishes  of  that  compact  body  which, 
however  widely  scattered,  was  one  in  heart  and  feeling,  in  thought 
and  purpose,  in  faith  and  practice,  in  suflfering  and  in  prosperity.'^ 
Thus,  when  upon  the  death  of  Herod  a  deputation  from  Palestine 
appeared  in  the  capital  to  seek  the  restoration  of  their  Theocracy 


'  Comp.  Cassel,  in  Ersch  u.  Gruber's 
Encyclop.  2d  sect.  vol.  xxvii.  p.  147. 

'■^  Comp.  Friedldnder,  u.  s.  vol.  ii. 
pp.  17-204  passim. 

■*  It  was  probably  this  unity  of  Israel- 
itisli  interests  which  Cicero  had  in  view 


(Pro  Flacco,  28)  when  he  took  such 
credit  for  his  boldness  in  daring  to  stand 
up  against  the  Jews — unless,  indeed,  the 
orator  only  meant  to  make  a  point  in 
favour  of  his  client. 


POSITION   OF   THE   JEWS   IN   THE   ROMAN   WORLD.  71 

under  a  Roman  protectorate,"  no  less  than  8,000  of  the  Roman  Jews     CHAI\ 
joined  .it.     And  in  case  of  need  they  could  find  powerful  friends,         v 
not  oidy  among  the   Herodian  princes,  but  among   court  favourites  ^ —  — ' 
who  were  Jews,   like  the  actor  of  whom  Josephus  speaks;"  among  "^'^"l' ^^\. 
those  who  were  inclined  towards  Judaism,  like  Poppaea,  the  dissolute   war.n. e.i 
wife  of  Nero,  whose  coffin  as  that  of  a  Jewess  was  laid  among  the 
urns  of  the  emperors;'  or  among  real  proselytes,  like  those  of  all 
ranks  who,  from  sui)crstition  or  conviction,  had  i(lentified  themselves 
with  the  Synagogue.'-' 

In  truth,  there  was  no  law  to  prevent  the  si)read  of  Judaism. 
Excepting  the  brief  period  when  Tiberius"  banished  the  Jews  from  '^ioa.d. 
Rome  and  sent  4,000  of  their  number  to  fight  the  banditti  in  Sardinia, 
the  Jews  enjoyed  not  only  perfect  liberty,  but  exceptional  privileges. 
In  the  reign  of  Caesar  and  of  Augustus  we  have  quite   a  series   of 
edicts,   which  secured  the  full  exercise  of  their  religion  and  their 
communal  rights.^     In  virtue  of  these  they  were  not  to  be  disturlK'd 
in  their  religious  ceremonies,  nor  in  the  observance  of  their  sabbaths 
and  feasts.     The  annual  Temi:)le-tribute  Was  allowed  to  be  transported 
to  Jerusalem,  and  the  alienation  of  these  funds  by  the  ci\il  magis- 
trates treated  as  sacrilege.     As  the  Jews  objected  to  bear  arms,  or 
march,  on  the  Sabbath,  they  were  freed  from  military  service.     On 
similar  grounds,  they  were  not  obliged  to  appear  in  courts  of  law  on 
their  holy  days.     Augustus  even  ordered  that,  Avhen  the  public  dis- 
tribution of  corn  or  of  money  annuig  the  citizens  fell  on  a  Sabliath, 
the  Jews  were  to  receive  their  share  on  the  following  day.     In  a 
similar  spirit  the  Roman  authorities  confirmed  a  decree  by  which  the 
founder  of  Antioch,  Seleucus  I.  (Nicator),"*  had  granted  the  Jews  the  '^ob.asoB.c. 
I'ight  of  citizenship  in  all  the  cities  of  Asia  Minor  and  Syria  whicli 
he  hatl  built,  and  the  privilege  of  receiving,  instead  of  the  oil  that 
was  distributed,  which  their  religion  forbade  them  to  use,""  an  equi-  -Ab.  sar. 
valcnt  in  money. "^    These  rights  were  maintained  by  Vespasian  and  f./,«.  Am. 
Titus  even   after  the   last  Jewish  war,  notwithstanding  the  earnest  ^""  ^"  ^ 
remonstrances  of  these  cities.      No  wonder,  that   at   the  death  of 
Caesar*-'  the  Jews  of  Rome  gathered  for  many  nights,  waking  strange  f44B.c. 
feelings  of  awe  in  the  city,  as  they  chanted  in   mournful   melodies 
their  Psalms  around  the  pyre  on  which  the  body  of  their  benefactor 

'  Sc/itl/er    (Gesch.    fl.    Rom.    Kaiser-  -  Tlie   question  of  Jewisli   iiroselytes 

reiclis,  p.  588)  denies  tliat  PopjK^a  was  a  will  be  treatefl  in  anotlier  i)hice. 

in'osclyte.      It    is,   indeed,    true,    as   he  ■■•  Conip.  ./o.v.  Ant.  xiv.  H».  itassim,  and 

ari:;ues,  that  the  fact  of  her  entomlmient  .xvi.  (i.  These  edicts  are  collated  in  Krehs. 

afibrds  no  absolute   evidence  of  this,  if  Decreta  Ronianor.  iiro  .Tiul.   facta,  with 

taken  liy  itself;  but  conip.  Jos.  Ant.  xx.  lon.i?  comments  by  the  author,   and  l)y 

8.  1 1  ;  Life  3.  Lc/rysftohn. 


72  THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

1500K      had  been  burnt,  and  raised  their  pathetie  dirges."     The  measures  of 

I  Tiberius  against  them  were  Uue   to   tlic  iutluence  of  his   favourite 

^^^. — '   Sejanus,  and  ceased  with  his  sway.     Besides,  they  were  the  outcome 

'Suet.cxs.    Qf  j)nl)lic  feeling  at  the  time  against  all  foreign  rites,  which  had  l)een 

roused  by  the  vile  conduct  of  the  priests  of  Isis  towards  a  Roman 

matron,  and  was  again  provoked  1)y  a  gross  imposture  upon  Fulvia,  a 

noble  Roman  proselyte,  on  the  part  of  some  vagabond  Rabbis.     But 

even  so,  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  literally  all  Jews  had  left 

Rome.     Many  Avould  find  means  to  remain  secretly  behind.     At  any 

rate,  twenty  years  afterwards  Philo  found  a  large  communit}'  there, 

ready   to   support   him   in  his  mission  on   behalf  of  his  Egyptian 

countrymen.      Any    temporar}'     measures    against   the    Jews   can, 

therefore,  scarcely  be  regarded  as  a  serious  interference  with  tlieir 

privileges,  or  a  cessation  of  the  Imperial  favour  shown  to  them. 


TWOFOLD   PRIVILEGES   OF   THE   JEWS   IN   ASIA.  V3 


CHAPTER  V 

POLITICAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  LIFE  OF  THE  JEWISH  DISPERSION  IN  THE  WEST 
THEIR    UNION    IN    THE    (JREAT    HOPE    OF    THE    COMING    DELIVERER. 

It  was  not  only  in  the  capital  of  the  Empire  that  the  Jews  enjoyed     CHAP, 
the  rights  of  Roman  citizenship.     Many  in  Asia  Minor  could  boast        ^^l 
of  the  same  privilege.''  The  Seleucidic  rulers  of  Syria  had  previously  ^- — "<      ' 
bestowed  kindred  privileges  on  the  Jews  in  many  places.    Thus,  they  xi^'^'io"*' 
possessed  in  some  cities  twofold  rights:  the  status  of  Roman  and  ^^f^^^j-j 
the  privileges  of  Asiatic,  citizenship.    Those  who  enjoyed  the  former  '-^^"^ 
were  entitled  to  a  civil  government  of  their  own,  under  archons  of 
their  choosing,  quite  independent  of  the  rule  and  tribunals  of  the 
cities  in  which  they  lived.     As  instances,  we  may  mention  the  Jews 
of  Sardis,   Ephesus,  Delos,   and  apparently  also  of  Antioch.     But, 
whether   legally   entitled   to   it  or  not,   they  probably  everywhere 
claimed  the  right  of  self-government,  and  exercised  it,  except  in 
times  of  persecution.     But,  as  already  stated,  they  also  possessed, 
besides  this,  at  least  in  many  places,  the  privileges  of  Asiatic  citizen- 
ship, to  the  same  extent  as  their  heathen  fellow-citizens.     This  two- 
fold status  and  jurisdiction  might  have  led  to  serious  complications, 
if  the  archons  had  not  confined  their  authority  to  strictly  communal 
interests,''  without  interfering  with  the  ordinary  administration  of  bcomp. 

•     •  •  Acts  xix   14 

justice,  and  the  Jews  willingly  submitted  to  the  sentences  i)ronounced  ix.  2 
by  their  own  tribunals. 

But,  in  truth,  they  enjoyed  even  more  than  religious  liberty  and 
communal  privileges.     It  was  quite  in  the  spirit  of  the  times,  that 
]X)tentates  friendly  to  Israel  bestowed  largesses  alike  on  the  Temple 
in  Jerusalem,  and  on  the  Synagogues  in  the  provinces.     The  magni- 
ficent porch  of  the  Temple  was  '  adorned '  with  many  such  'dedicated 
gifts. '     Thus,  we  read  of  repeated  costly  oiferings  by  the  Ptolemies, 
of  a  golden  wreath  which  Sosius  offered  after  he  had  taken  Jerusalem 
in  conjunction  with  Herod,  and  of  rich  flagons  which  Augustus  and  c  jos.  Ant. 
his  wife  had  given  to  the  Sanctuary."     And,   although  this  same  xili.Vi: 
Emperor  praised  his  grandson  for  leaving  Jerusalem  unvisited  on  his  5  f  Ant  xiV. 
journey  from  Egypt  to  Syria,  yet  he  himself  made  provision  for  a   v^'it" 


"  Jos.  War 
ii.  II).  i:  11 
17.  •> 


74  THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

iiooK      daily  ScU'ritice  on  his  helialf,  whit-h  only  ceased  when  the  last  war 
'  against  Rome  was  i)roclaimed.^     Even  the  circumstance  that  tliere 

- — ■ ' ' — '  was  a  '  Court  of  the  Gentiles, '  with  marble  screen  beautifully  orna- 
mented, bearing  tablets  which,  in  Latin  and  Greek,  warned  Gentiles 
not  to  proceed  further,'  proves  that  the  Sanctuary  was  largely  attended 
by  others  than  Jews,  or,  in  the  words  of  Josephus,  that  '  it  was  held 
in  reverence  by  nations  from  the  ends  of  the  earth.'  ^' 

In  Syria  also,  where,  according  to  Josephus,  the  largest  numlier  of 
Jews  lived, ^  they  experienced  special  favour.  In  Antioch  their  rights 
and  immunities  were  recorded  on  tables  of  brass. ^ 

But,  indeed,  the  capital  of  Syria  was  one  of  their  favourite 
resorts.  It  will  be  remembered  what  importance  attached  to  it  in 
the  early  history  of  the  Christian  Church.  Antioch  was  the  third 
city  of  the  Empire,  and  lay  just  outside  what  the  Rabbinists  desig- 
nated as  '  Syria'  and  still  regarded  as  holy  ground.  Thus  it  formed, 
so  to  speak,  an  advanced  post  between  the  Palestinian  and  the 
Gentile  world.  Its  chief  Synagogue  was  a  magnificent  building,  to 
which  the  successors  of  Antiochus  Epiphanes  had  given  the  spoils 
which  that  monarch  had  brought  from  the  Temple.  The  connection 
between  Jerusalem  and  Antioch  was  very  close.  All  that  occurred 
in  that  city  was  eagerly  watched  in  the  Jewish  capital.  The  spread 
of  Christianity  there  must  have  excited  deep  concern.  Careful  as 
the  Talmud  is  not  to  afford  unwelcome  information,  which  might 
have  led  to  further  mischief,  we  know  that  three  of  the  principal 
Rabbis  went  thither  on  a  mission — we  can  scarcely  doubt  for  the 
purpose  of  arresting  the  progress  of  Christianity.  Again,  we  find  at 
a  later  period  a  record  of  religious  controversy  in  Antioch  l)etween 
Rabbis  and  Christians.*  Yet  the  Jews  of  Antioch  were  strict!}'' 
Hellenistic,  and  on  one  occasion  a  great  Rabl)i  was  unable  to  find 
among  tliem  a  copy  of  even  the  Book  of  Esther  in  Hebrew,  which, 
accordingly,  he  had  to  write  out  from  memory  for  his  use  in  their 
Synagogue.  A  fit  place  this  great  border-city,  crowded  l)y  Hellenists, 
in  close  connection  Avith  Jerusalem,  to  be  the  birthplace  of  the  name 
'Christian,'  to  send  forth  a  Paul  on  his  mission  to  the  Gentile  world, 
and  to  obtain  for  it  a  charter  of  citizenship  far  nobler  than  that  of 
which  the  record  was  graven  on  tablets  of  brass. 

But,  whatever  privileges  Israel  might  enjoy,  history  records  an 

'  One  of  tlie.-<e  tablets  has  lately  ])eeii  -  War,  vii.  :>.  3. 

excavated.      Comp.    'The    Temple:    its  ■'  War,  vii.  5.  2. 

Ministry   and   Services   in  the   Time    of  *  Comp.  generally  Nenbnner,  Googr. 

Christ,"' p.  24.  (hi  Tahnud,  pp.  S12."  :-!l:!. 


RELATION   OF   -IKWS   TO   THE    HEATHEN    WOlfLD.  75 

almost  continuous  series  of  attc]ni)ts,  on  the  part  oT  tlie  commu-  CHAP, 
nities  anionii'  wliom  they  lived,  to  deprive  them  not  only  of  their  vi 
immunities,  hut  even  of  their  common  rights.  Foremost  among  "— ^r' — ' 
the  reasons  oi'  this  antagonism  we  i)laee  the  absolute  contrariety 
be'tween  heathenism  and  the  Synagogue,  and  the  social  isolation 
which  Judaism  rendered  necessary.  It  was  avowedly  unlawful  for 
the  Jew  even  '  to  keep  company,  or  come  unto  one  of  another  nation. ' "  » Acts  x.  28 
To  quarrel  with  this,  was  to  tind  fault  with  the  law  and  the  religion 
which  made  him  a  Jew.  But  besides,  there  was  that  pride  of  descent, 
creed,  enlightenment,  and  national  privileges,  which  St.  Paul  so  graphi- 
cally sums  up  as  '  making  l)oast  of  God  and  of  the  laAv. ' ''  However  dif-  ''  comp. 
ferently  they  might  have  expressed  it,  Philo  and  Hillel  would  have  been  24 
at  one  as  to  the  absolute  superiority  of  the  Jew  as  such.  Pretensions 
of  this  kind  must  have  been  the  more  provocative,  that  the  populace 
at  any  rate  envied  the  prosperity  which  Jewish  industry,  talent,  and 
capital  everywhere  secured.  Why  should  that  close,  foreign  corpora- 
tion possess  every  civic  right,  and  yet  be  free  from  many  of  its  burdens? 
Why  should  their  meetings  be  excepted  from  the  '  collegia  illicita  "  ? 
why  should  they  alone  be  allowed  to  export  part  of  the  national 
wealth,  to  dedicate  it  to  their  superstition  in  Jerusalem  ?  The  Jew 
could  not  well  feign  any  real  interest  in  what  gave  its  greatness  to 
Ephesus,  its  attractiveness  to  Corinth,  its  influence  to  Athens.  He 
was  ready  to  profit  by  it*;  but  his  inmost  thought  must  have  been 
contempt,  and  all  he  wanted  was  quietness  and  protection  in  his  own 
pursuits.  What  concern  had  he  with  those  petty  squabbles,  ambitions, 
flr  designs,  which  agitated  the  turbulent  populace  in  those  Grecian 
cities  ?  what  cared  he  for  their  popular  meetings  and  noisy  discus- 
sions ?  The  recognition  of  the  fact  that,  as  Jews,  they  were  strangers 
in  a  strange  land,  made  them  so  loyal  to  the  ruling  powers,  and  pro- 
cured them  the  protection  of  kings  and  Cgesars.  But  it  also  roused 
the  hatred  of  the  populace. 

That  such  should  have  been  the  case,  and  these  widely  scattered 
memliers  have  been  united  in  one  body,  is  a  unique  fact  in  history'. 
Its  only  true  explanation  must  be  sought  in  a  higher  Divine  impulse. 
The  links  which  bound  them  together  were:  a  common  creed,  a 
common  life,  a  common  centre,  and  a  common  Iwpe. 

Wherever  the  Jew  sojourned,  or  however  he  might  differ  from 
his  brethren.  Monotheism,  the  Divine  mission  of  Moses,  and  the 
authority  of  the  Old  Testament,  were  equally  to  all  unquestioned 
articles  of  belief.  It  may  well  have  been  that  the  Hellenistic  Jew, 
living  in  the  midst  of  a  hostile,  curious,  and  scurrilous  population,  did 


13 


76  TJIF-:    I'HErAHATIUN    FOH    THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK  not.  care  to  oxhil)it  over  his  house  and  doorposts,  at  the  right  of  the 
I  entrance,  the  Mezuzah,^  which  enclosed  the  folded  parchment  that,  on 

^-^-^r — '  twenty-two  lines,  bore  the  words  from  Deut.  iv.  4-9  and  xi.  13-21, 
or  to  call  attention  b}'  their  In'eadth  to  the  I'ephiUin,'  or  phylacteries 
on  his  left  arm  and  forehead,  or  even  to  make  observable  the  Tsitsith,^ 
or  fringes  on  the  borders  of  his  garments/  Perhaps,  indeed,  all  these 
observances  may  at  that  time  not  have  been  deemed  incumbent  on 
every  Jew.'  At  any  rate,  we  do  not  find  mention  of  them  in 
heathen  writers.  Similarly,  they  could  easily  keep  out  of  view,  or 
they  nmy  not  have  had  conveniences  for,  their  prescribed  purifications. 
But  in  every  place,  as  we  have  abundant  evidence,  where  there  were 
at  least  ten  BaUanim — male  householders  who  had  leisure  to  give 

» Acts XV. 21  themselves  to  regular  attendance — they  had,  from  ancient  times," 
one,  and,  if  possible,  more  Synagogues."     Where  there  was  no  Syn- 

bActsxvi.  agogue  there  was  at  least  a  Proseuche,^'  or  meeting-place,  under  the 
open  sky,  after  the  form  of  a  theatre,  generally  outside  the  town,  near 
a  river  or  the  sea,  for  the  sake  of  lustrations.  These,  as  we  know 
from  classical  writers,  were  well  known  to  the  heathen,  and  even 
frequented  by  them.  Their  Sabbath  observance,  their  fasting  on 
Thursdays,  their  Day  of  Atonement,  their  laws  relating  to  food,  and 
their  pilgrimages  to  Jerusalem — all  found  sympathisers  among  Juda- 
ising  Gentiles. '^  They  even  watched  to  see,  how  the  Sabbath  lamp 
was  kindled,  and  the  solemn  prayers  spoken  which  marked  the 
beginning  of  the  Sabbath.®     But  to  the  Jew  the  Synagogue  was  the 

1  Ber.  iii.  3 ;  Meg.  i.  8 ;  Moed  K.  iii.  4 ;  already  been  pointed  out  in  that  book 

Men.  iii.  7.  Comp.  Jo.s.  Ant.  iv.  8.  13;  and  of  gigantic  learning,  Spencer,  De  Leg. 

the  tractate  Mezuzah  in  Kirchheim,  Sep-  Hebr.  p.  1213.    F/-rt«^-e^  (Ueber  d.  Eintl. 

tern   libri   Talmvid.    parvi  Hierosol.  pp.  d.  Pal.  Exeg.,  pp.  89,  90j  tries  in  vain  to 

12-17.  controvert  the  statement.     The  insuffi- 

^  St.  Matt,  xxiii.  5;  Ber.  i.  3;  Shabb.  vi.  ciency  of  his  arguments  has  been  fully 

2 ;  vii.  3 ;  xvi.  1 ;  Er.  x.  1,  2  ;  Sheq.  iii.  2 ;  shown  by  Ilerzfeld  (Gesch.  d.  Volk.  Isr. 

Meg.  i.  8;  iv.  8;  Moed.   Q.  iii.  4;  Sanh.  vol.  iii.  p.  224). 

xi.   3;  Men.  iii.   7;  iv.    1;  Kel.  xviii.  8;  '^  avvayooyr},  Jos.  Ant.x\\.6.^;Vfnv, 

Miqv.   X.   3;  Yad.  iii.  3.     Comp.  Kirch-  ii.  14.  4.  5;  vii.  3.  3;  Philo,  Quod  omnis 

7<e(?rt,  Tract.  Tephillin,  u.  s.  pp.  18-21.  probus   liber,   ed.     Mangey,  ii.  i).  458; 

3  Moed  K.  iii.  4;  Eduy.  iv.  10;  Men.  avvaycbyiov,  Philo,  Ad  Caj.  ii.  p.  591; 

iii.   7;  iv.   1.  Comp.  Kirchheim,  Tract.  cTafifiarelov,  Jos.  Ant.  xvi.  6.  2;  npo- 

Tsitsith.  u.  s.  pp.  22-24.  crevKrijpiov,  Philo,  Vita  Mosis,  lib.  iii., 

*  The  Tephilliii  enclo-sed  a  transcript  ii.  p.  KJS. 

of  Exod.  xiii.  1-10.  11-16;  Deut.  vi.  4-9;  '  TCpoaevx)).  Jos.    Ant.   xiv.    10.   23, 

xl.    13-21.     The  Tsifsith  were   worn  in  Life  54:  Philo,  In  Place,  ii.  p.  523;   Ad 

obedience  to  the  injunction  in  Num.  xv.  Caj.   ii.   pp.   565,   596;   Epiphnn.     Ha»r. 

37  etc. ;  Deut.  xxii.  12  (comp.  St.  Matt.  Ixxx.  1.  Comp.  J^i/^-ew.  Sat.  iii.  296: 'Ede 

ix.  20;  xiv.  36;  St.  Mark  V.  27;  St.  Luke  ubi  consistas?    in  qua   te    quajro   pros- 

viii.  44).  eucha? ' 

^  It  is  remarkable  that  Aristeas  seems  **  Comp..    among    others,     Ovid,   Ars 

to  speak  only  of  the  phylacteries  on  the  Amat.  i.  76:  Jnr.  Sat.  xiv.  96,  97;  Ilor. 

arm,  and  Piiilo  of  those  for  the   head.  Sat.  i.  5.  100;  9.70;  Suet.  Aug.  93. 

Avhile  the  LXX.  takes  the  command  en-  "  Persius  v.  iso. 
tirely  in  a  metaphorical  sense.     This  has 


JERUSALEM   THE   CENTRE   OF   UNION.  77 

l)on(l  of  union  throughout  tlie  worUl.     There,  on  Sabbath  and  feast     CHAP. 
days  they  met  to  read,  from  the  same  Leetionary,  the  same  Seri})ture-         VI 
lessons  which  their  brethren  read  throughout  the  world,  and  to  say,    ^— -v^^ 
in  the  words  of  the  same  liturgy,  their  common  prayers,  catching 
echoes  of  the  gorgeous  Temple-services  in  Jerusalem.     The  heathen 
must  have  been  struck  with  awe  as  they  listened,  and  watched  in  the 
gloom  of  the  Synagogue  the  mysterious  light  at  the  far  curtained  end, 
where  the  sacred  oracles  were  reverently  kept,    wrapped  in  costly 
coverings.     Here  the  stranger  Jew  also  would  find  himself  at  home: 
the  same  arrangements  as  in  his  own  land,  and  the  well-known  ser- 
vices and  })rayers.     A  hospitable  welcome  at  the  Sabbath-meal,  and 
in  many  a  home,  would  be  pressed  on  him,  and  ready  aid  be  proffered 
in  work  or  trial. 

For,  deepest  of  all  convictions  was  that  of  their  common  centre; 
strongest  of  all  feelings  was  the  love  which  bound  them  to  Palestine 
and  to  Jerusalem,  the  city  of  God,  the  joy  of  all  the  earth,  the  glory 
of  His  pco])le  Israel.  '  H"  I  forget  thee,  0  Jerusalem,  let  my  right  hand 
forget  her  cunning;  let  my  tongue  cleave  to  the  roof  of  my  mouth.' 
Hellenist  and  Eastern  equally  realised  this.  As  the  soil  of  his  native 
land,  the  deeds  of  his  people,  or  the  graves  of  his  fathers  draw  the 
far-off  wanderer  to  the  home  of  his  childhood,  or  fill  the  mountaineer 
in  his  exile  with  irrepressible  longing,  so  the  sounds  ^^1lich  the  Jew 
heard  in  his  Synagogue,  and  the  observances  which  he  kept.  Nor 
was  it  with  him  merely  matter  of  patriotism,  of  history,  or  of  associ- 
ation. It  was  a  religious  principle,  a  spiritual  hope.  No  truth  more 
firmly  rooted  in  the  consciousness  of  all,  than  that  in  Jerusalem  alone 
men  could  truly  worship."  As  Daniel  of  old  had  in  his  hour  of  »st.  John 
worshi})  turned  towards  the  Holy  Cit}',  so  in  the  Synagogue  and  in 
his  prayers  every  Jew  turned  towards  Jerusalem;  and  anything  that 
might  imply  want  of  reverence,  when  looking  in  that  direction,  was 
considered  a  grievous  sin.  From  every  Synagogue  in  the  Diasjjora 
the  annual  Temple-tribute  went  up  to  Jerusalem,^  no  doubt  ofteu 
accompanied  by  rich  votive  offerings.  Few,  Avho  could  undertake  or 
a  fiord  the  journey,  but  had  at  some  time  or  other  gone  up  to  the  Holy 
City  to  attend  one  of  the  great  feasts.^  Philo,  who  was  held  by  the 
same  spell  as  the  most  bigoted  Rabbinist,  had  himself  been  one  of 
those  dejMited  by  his  fellow-citizens  to  offer  prayers  and  sacrifices  in 
the  great  Sanctuary.-^     Views  and  feelings  of  this  kind  help  us  to  un- 

^  Comp.  Jos.  Ant.   xiv.   7.   2 ;  xvi.  6,  -  Philo,  De  Moiiarchia,  ii.  p.  223. 

passiuni;  Ph/h,  De  Mouarchia,  ed.  Man-  *  Philo,  in  a  fragment   preserved   in 

gey.  ii.  p.  224;  Ad  Caj.  ii.  p.  568;  Contra  Euseh..  Pra^par.  Ev.  viii.  13.     Wliat  tlie 

Flacc.  ii.  ]).  524.  Temple  was  in  the  estimation  of  Israel, 


Iv.  20 


IS 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


'  War  vi.  9. 
3:  comp.  ii. 
14.  3 


"  Hos.  si.  11 


c  Mldr.  on 
Cant.  i.  1.5, 
ed.  War- 
shau,  p.  11& 


a  Men.  53  h 


derstand,  how,  on  .some  gTeat  feast,  as  Joseplms  states  on  sufficient 
authority,  the  i)opukxtion  of  Jerusalem — within  its  ecclesiastical 
boundaries — could  have  swelled  to  the  enormous  number  of  nearly 
three  millions/' 

And  still,  there  was  an  even  stronger  liond  in  their  common  hope. 
That  hope  pointed  them  all,  wherever  scattered,  back  to  Palestine. 
To  them  the  coming  (jf  the  Messiah  undoubtedly  implied  the  restora- 
tion of  Israel's  kingdom,  and,  as  a  tirst  i)art  in  it,  the  return  of  'the 
dispersed.' '  Indeed,  every  devout  Jew  prayed,  day  by  day:  '  Proclaim 
by  Thy  loud  trumi)ct  our  deliverance,  and  raise  up  a  l)anner  to 
gather  our  dispersed,  and  gather  us  together  from  the  four  ends  of 
the  earth.  Blessed  be  Thou,  0  Lord!  Who  gatherest  the  outcasts 
of  Thy  peojjle  Israel.'^  That  prayer  included  in  its  generality  also 
the  lost  ten  tribes.  So,  for  example,  the  prophecy''  was  rendered: 
'  They  hasten  hither,  like  a  bird  out  of  Egypt, ' — referring  to  Israel 
of  old;  'and  like  a  dove  out  of  the  land  of  Assyria' — referring  to 
the  ten  tribes."^  And  thus  even  these  wanderers,  so  long  lost,  were 
to  be  reckoned  in  the  field  of  the  Good  Shepherd.  * 

It  is  worth  while  to  trace,  how  universally  and  warmly  both 
Eastern  and  Western  Judaism  cherished  this  hope  of  all  Israel's 
return  to  their  own  land.  The  Targumim  l)ear  repeated  reference  to 
it;'*  and  although  there  may  be  question  as  to  the  exact  date  of 
these  paraphrases,  it  cannot  be  doubted,  that  in  this  respect  they 
represented  the  views  of  the  Synagogue  at  the  time  of  Jesus.  For 
the  same  reason  we  may  gather  from  the  Talmud  and  earliest  com- 
mentaries, what  Israel's  hope  was  in  regard  to  the  return  of  the 
'  dispersed."**  It  was  a  l)eautiful  idea  to  liken  Israel  to  the  olive-tree, 
which  is  never  stripped  of  its  leaves.''  The  storm  of  trial  that  had  swept 
over  it  was,  indeed,  sent  in  judgment,  but  not  to  destroy,  only  to 
pui-ity.     Even  so,  Israel's  persecutions  had  served  to  keep  them  from 

II  Messia,  p.  253. 

*  Notably  in  connection  witli  Ex.  xii. 
42  (both  in  tlie  Pseudo-Jon.  and  Jer. 
Targ;uni);  Numb.  xxiv.  7  (Jer.  Targ.); 
Deut.  XXX.  4  (Targ.  Ps.-Jon.):  Is.  xiv.  29; 
Jer.  xxxiii.  i:^:  Hos.  xiv.  7;  Zech.  x.  (i. 
Dr.  Drummond,  in  his  'Jewish  Messiah,' 
p.  :H3.5.  quotes  from  tlie  Targnm  on 
Lamentations.  But  tiiis  dates  from  long 
after  the  Talmudic  period. 

^  As  each  sentence  which  follows 
would  necessitate  one  or  more  references 
to  difiereiU  works,  the  reader,  who  may 
be  desirous  to  verify  the  statements  in 
the  text,  is  generally  referred  to  Cnstelli, 
w.  s.  pp.  251-2.'j.'i. 


and  what  its  loss  boded,  not  only  to 
them,  but  to  the  whole  world,  will  be 
shown  in' a  later  part  of  this  book. 

1  Even  Maimonides,  in  spite  of  liis 
desire  to  minimise  the  Mes.sianic  expect- 
ancy, admits  this. 

••'"This  is  tlie  tcntli  of  the  eigiiteen  (or 
ratlier  nineteen)  l)enedictions  in  the  daily 
l)rayers.  Of  these  tlie  tirst  and  the  last 
three  are  certainly  the  oldest.  But  this 
tenth  also  dates  from  liefore  tiie  des- 
truction of  Jerusalem.  Cornp.  Ziniz, 
Gottesd.  Vortr.  d.  Juden.  p.  368. 

■^  Comp.  Jer.  Sanh.  x.  (i;  Sanh.  110  />: 
Yalk.  Shim. 

*  The  suggestion  is  made  by  Castelli. 


THE   COMMON    MESSIANIC   HOPE. 


79 


becoiniiiii"  mixed  with  the  (jlciitiles.  Heaven  and  cartli  might  ])C 
destroyed,  but  not  Israel;  and  their  final  deliverance  would  Jar  out- 
i^trip  in  nmrvellousness  that  ironi  Egyi)t.  The  winds  would  blow  to 
bring  together  the  dispersed;  nay,  if  there  were  a  single  Israelite  in  a 
land,  howeverdistant,  he  would  be  restored.  With  every  honour  would 
the  nations  l)ring  them  V)aek.  The  patriarchs  and  all  the  just  would 
rise  to  share  in  the  joys  of  the  new  possession  of  their  land;  new 
hymns  as  well  as  the  <jld  ones  would  rise  to  the  praise  of  Gotl.  Nay, 
the  bounds  of  the  land  would  be  extended  far  l)eyond  what  they  had 
ever  been,  and  nmde  as  wide  as  originally  promised  to  Abraham. 
Nor  would  that  possession  be  ever  taken  from  them,  nor  those  joys 
be  ever  succeeded  by  sorrows/  In  view  of  such  general  expectations 
we  cannot  tail  to  nuirk  with  what  wonderful  soll^riety  the  Apostles  put 
the  question  to  Jesus:  'Wilt  Thou  at  this  time  restore  the  kingdom 
to  Israel  ?'•■' 

Hopes  and  expectations  such  as  these  are  expressed  not  only  in 
Talmudical  writings.  We  find  them  throughout  that  very  interest- 
ing Ai)ocalyptic  class  of  literature,  the  Pseudepigrapha,  to  which 
reference  has  already  been  nmdc.  The  two  earliest  of  them,  the 
Book  of  Enoch  and  the  Sibylline  Oracles,  are  equally  emphatic  on 
this  subject.  The  seer  in  the  Book  of  Enoch  beholds  Israel  in  the 
Messianic  time  as  coming  in  carriages,  and  as  borne  on  the  wings  of 
the  wind  from  East,  and  West,  and  South."  Fuller  details  of  that 
happy  event  are  furnished  by  the  Jewish  Sibyl.  In  her  utterances 
these  three  events  are  connected  together:  the  coming  of  the  Mes- 
siah, the  rebuilding  of  the  Temple,'  and  the  restoration  of  the  dis- 
persed,'' when  all  nations  would  bring  their  wealth  to  the  House  of 
God.'^  The  latter  trait  specially  reminds  us  of  their  Hellenistic  origin. 
A  century  later  the  same  joyous  contidenco,  only  perhaps  more  clearly 
worded,  appears  in  the  so-called  'Psalter  of  Solomon.'  Thus  the 
seventeenth  Psalm  bursts  into  this  strain:  '  Blessed  are  they  who  shall 
live  in  those  days — in  the  reunion  of  the  tribes,  which  God  brings 
al)out."^    And  no  wonder,  since  they  are  the  days  when  'the  King. 


CHAl' 
VI 


'  The  fiction  of  two  Messiahs — one 
the  Sou  of  David,  the  otlier  the  Son  of 
Joseph,  the  latter  beincj  connected  with 
the  restoration  of  the  ten  tribes — has  been 
conclusively  shown  to  he  the  i)Ost-Chris- 
tian  date  (conip.  Schottgen,  Home  Hebr. 
i.  \).  359;  and  Wiinsche,  Leiden  d.  Mess, 
p.  109).  Possil)ly  it  was  invented  to 
find  an  explanation  for  Zech.  xli.  10 
(comp.  Slice.  52  a),  just  as  the  Socinian 
doctrine  of  the  assumption  of  Christ  into 


heaven  at  the  beii'inniniz;  of  His  ministry 
was  invented  to  account  for  St.  Joim  iii. 
13. 

-  M.  Maurice  Vernes  (Hist,  des  Idees 
Messian.  pp.  43-119)  maintains  that  the 
writers  of  Enoch  and  Or.  Sib.  iii.  ex- 
pected this  period  under  the  rule  of  the 
Maccabees,  and  reii'arded  one  (»f  tliem  as 
the  Messiali.  It  imi)Iies  a  jieculiar  read- 
in^•  of  iiistory,  and  a  lively  inuiii'lnatiou, 
to  arrive  at  such  a  conclusion. 


!<  Book  of 
En.ch.lvii. ; 
comp.  xc.aa 


■:  B.  In.  286- 
294;  comp. 
B.  V.  414- 
433 

a  iii.  732-735 

e  iii.  766-783 


f  Ps.  of  Sol. 
vsii.  50: 
comp.  also 
Ps.  xi. 


80 


THE    PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
I 


»  Ps.  Sal. 
xviii.  23 

*>  V.  25 

•^T.  27 

'1  V.  28 

e  vv.  30,  31 


t  Book  or. 
•Jub.  cli.  i. ; 
fomp.  al^>( 
ell.  xxili. 


e  St.  .John 
11.  19 


the  Son  of  David,""  having  purged  Jerusalem"  and  destroyed  the 
heathen  l)y  the  word  of  His  mouth,"  would  gather  together  a  holy 
people  which  He  would  rule  with  justice,  and  judge  the  tribes  of  His 
people/  •  dividing  thein  over  the  land  according  to  tribes; '  when  '  no 
stranger  would  any  longer  dwell  among  them.''' 

Another  pause,  and  we  reach  the  time  when  Jesus  the  Messiah 
appeared.  Knowing  the  characteristics  of  that  time,  we  scarcely 
wonder  that  the  Book  of  Jubilees,  whicli  dates  from  that  period, 
should  have  been  Rabbinic  in  its  cast  rather  than  Apocalyptic.  Yet 
even  there  the  reference  to  the  future  glory  is  distinct.  Thus  we  are 
told,  that,  though  for  its  wickedness  Israel  had  been  scattered,  God  would 
'  gather  them  all  from  the  midst  of  the  heathen, '  '  build  among  them 
His  Sanctuary,  and  dwell  with  them. '  That  Sanctuary  was  to  '  be  for 
ever  and  ever,  and  God  would  appear  to  the  eye  of  every  one,  and 
every  one  acknowledge  that  He  was  the  God  of  Israel,  and  the  Father 
of  all  the  Children  of  Jacob,  and  King  upon  Mount  Zion,  from  ever- 
lasting to  everlasting.  And  Zion  and  Jerusalem  shall  be  holy.  "^  When 
listening  to  this  language  of,  perhaps,  a  contemporary  of  Jesus,  we  can  in 
some  measure  understand  the  popular  indignation  which  such  a  charge 
would  call  forth,  as  that  the  Man  of  Nazareth  had  proposed  to  destroy 
the  Temple,®  or  that  he  thought  merely  of  the  children  of  Jacob. 

There  is  an  ominous  pause  of  a  century  before  we  come  to  the  next 
work  of  this  class,  which  bears  the  title  of  the  Fourth  Book  of  Esdras. 
That  century  had  been  decisive  in  the  history  of  Israel,  Jesus  had 
lived  and  died;  His  Apostles  had  gone  forth  to  bear  the  tidings  of  the 
new  Kingdom  of  God;  the  Church  had  been  founded  and  separated 
from  the  Synagogue;  and  the  Temple  had  been  destroyed,  the  Holy 
City  laid  waste,  and  Israel  undergone  sufferings,  compared  Avith  which 
the  former  troubles  might  almost  be  forgotten.  But  already  the  new 
doctrine  had  struck  its  roots  deep  alike  in  Eastern  and  in  Hellenistic 
soil.  It  were  strange  indeed  it\  in  such  circumstances,  this  book 
should  not  have  been  diflerent  from  any  that  had  preceded  it;  stranger 
still,  if  earnest  Jewish  minds  and  ardent  Jewish  hearts  had  re- 
mained wholly  unaffected  by  the  new  teaching,  even  though  the 
doctrine  of  the  Cross  still  continued  a  stumbling-block,  and  the  Gospel- 
announcement  a  rock  of  offence.  But  perhaps  we  could  scarcely 
have  been  prepared  to  find,  as  in  the  Fourth  Book  of  Esdras,  doctrinal 
views  which  were  wholly  foreign  to  Judaism,  and  evidently  derived 
from  the  New  Testament,  and  which,  in  logical  consistency,  would 
seem  to  lead  up  to  it.^  The  greater  part  of  the  book  maybe  described 


^  The  doctrinal  ))art  of  IV.  Esdras  may 
be  said  to  be  saturated  with  tlie  do<;ma 


of  original  sin,  which  is  wholly  foreign 
to  the  theology  alike   of  Rabbinic  and 


l'()8T-CHRISTIAN   THEOLOGY  OF   IV.   ESDRAS.  81 

as  restless  tossing,  the  seer  being  agitated  by  the  problem  and  the 
consequences  of  sin,  which  here  for  tlietirst  and  only  time  is  presented 
as  in  the  New  Testament;  by  the  question,  Avhy  there  are  so  few  who 
are  saved  ;  and  especially  by  what  to  a  Jew  must  have  seemed  the 
inscrutable,  terrible  mystery  of  Israel's  sufferings  and  banishment/ 
Yet,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  no  other  way  of  salvation  is  indicated  than 
that  by  works  and  personal  righteousness.  Throughout  there  is  a 
tone  of  deep  sadness  and  intense  earnestness.  It  almost  seems  some- 
times, as  if  one  heard  the  wind  of  the  new  dispensation  sweeping 
before  it  the  withered  leaves  of  Israel's  autumn.  Thus  far  for  the 
princijjal  portion  of  the  l)Ook.  The  second,  or  Apocalyptic,  part, 
endeavors  to  solve  the  mystery  of  Israel's  state  b}'  foretelling  their 
future.  Here  also  there  are  echoes  of  New  Testament  utterances. 
What  the  end  is  to  be,  we  are  told  in  unmistakable  language.  His 
'Son,'  Whom  the  Highest  has  for  a  long  time  preserved,  to  deliver 
'  the  creature '  by  Him,  is  suddenly  to  appear  in  the  form  of  a  Man. 
From  His  mouth  shall  proceed  alike  woe,  fire,  and  storm,  which  are 
the  trilnilatiolis  of  the  last  days.  And  as  they  shall  gather  for  war 
against  Him,  He  shall  stand  on  Mount  Zion,  and  the  Holy  City 
shall  come  down  from  heaven,  prepared  and  ready,  and  He  shall 
destroy  all  His  enemies.  But  a  peaccal)le  multitude  shall  now  be 
gathered  to  Him.  These  are  the  ten  tribes,  who,  to  separate  themselves 
iVorn  the  ways  of  the  heathen,  had  wandered  far  away,  miraculously 
lielped,  a  journey  of  one  and  a  half  years,  and  who  were  now  similarl}' 
restored  by  (jrod  to  their  own  land.  But  as  for  the  'Son,'  or  those 
who  accompanied  him,  no  one  on  earth  would  l)e  able  to  see  or  know 
them,  till  the  day  of  His  appearing."-  avis.vi.ch. 

It  seems  scarcely  necessary  to  complete  the  series  of  testimony  "'^^"'  "'^"^^ 
by  referring  in  detail  to  a  book,  called  'The  Prophecy  and  Assump- 
tion of  Moses,'  and  to  what  is  known  as  the  Apocalypse  of  Baruch,  the 
servant  of  Jeremiah.  Both  date  from  probably  a  somewhat  later  period 
than  the  Fourth  Book  of  Esdras,  and  both  are  fragmentary.  The  one 
distinctly  anticipates  the  return  of  the  ten  tribes  ; ''  the  other,  in  the  '<Proi>het.et 

Ass.  Mos. 

letter  to  the  nine  and  a  half  tribes,  far  beyond  the  P]uphrates,'"  with  iv.  7-u: 

vii.  20 

which  the  book  closes,  preserves  an  ominous  silence  on  that  point,  or  cAp.  Bar. 
rather  alludes  to  it  in  language  which  so  strongly  reminds  us  of  the  ^^^"'  "^"^ 

Hellenistic  Juduism.     Comp.  ^'is.  \.  oli.  niatic  part,  seems  successively  to  take  up 

ill.   21,   22;  iv.   30.   38;    Vis.  iii.   ch.  vi.  these  three  subjects,  a!tliou<iii  from  nuite 

18.  19  (ed.  Fritzsche,  p.  607);  33-41;  vii.  another  i)oint  of  view.      How  different 

46-48;  viii.  34-35.  the  treatment  is,  need  not  be  told. 

1  It  almost  seems  as  if  there  were  a  -  The  better  reading  is  '  in   tempore 

l)arallelism  between  this  book  and  the  diei  ejus.  (v.  52).* 
Epistle  to  the  Romans,  which  in  its  dog- 


82  THE    I'KErAKATlON    FOR   THE   G(Jrfl'EL. 

liOOK      adverse  oi)iiiioii  exi)resse(l  in  the  Talmud,  that  we  cannot  help  sus- 
I  pecting  some  internal  connection  l)etween  the  two.' 

"— ^r~"^  The  writing's  to  which  we  have  referred  have  all  a  decidedly 
Hellenistic  tinge  of  thought.^  Still  they  are  not  the  outcome  of 
pure  Hellenism.  It  is  therefore  with  i)eculiar  interest  that  we  turn 
to  Philo,  the  great  representative  of  that  direction,  to  see  whether  he 
would  admit  an  idea  so  purely  national  and,  as  it  might  seem,  exclu- 
sive. Nor  are  we  here  left  in  douht.  So  universal  was  this  belief, 
so  deep-seated  the  conviction,  not  only  in  the  mind,  but  in  the  heart 
of  Israel,  that  we  could  scarcely  find  it  more  distinctly  expressed  than 
l)y  the  great  Alexandrian.  However  low  the  condition  of  Israel 
»DeExe-  might  be,  he  tells  us,''  or  however  scattered  the  people  to  the  ends  of 
cAi.  Frcf.       the  earth,  the  banished  would,  on  a  given  sign,  be  set  free  in  one  day. 

pp.  936,  937  '  )  t.  ??    >^  J 

In  consistency  with  his  system,  he  traces  this  wondrous  event  to 
their  sudden  conversion  to  virtue,  which  would  make  their  masters 
ashamed  to  hold  any  longer  in  Ijondage  those  who  were  so  much 
better  than  themselves.  Then,  gathering  as  by  one  impulse,  the  dis- 
persed would  return  from  Hellas,  from  the  lands  of  the  barljarians, 
from  the  isles,  and  from  the  continents,  led  l)y  a  Divine,  superhuman 
api)arition  invisible  to  others,  and  visible  only  to  themselves.  On 
their  arrival  in  Palestine  the  waste  places  and  the  wilderness  would  ]}e 
inhabited,  and  the  l)arren  land  transformed  into  fruitfulness. 

Whatever  shades  of  difterence,  then,  we  may  note  in  the  expres- 
sion of  these  views,  all  anticipate  the  deliverance  of  Israel,  their  re- 
storation, and  future  pre-eminent  glory,  and  they  all  connect  these 
events  with  the  coming  of  the  Messiah.  This  was  'the  promise' 
unto  which,  in  their  '  instant  service  night  and  day,  the  twelve  tribes,' 
bActs  however  grievously  oppressed,  hoped  to  come. ^'     To  this  'sure  word 

xxvi.  7 

of  prophecy'  'the  strangers  scattered'  throughout  all  lands  would 
'take  heed,  as  unto  a  light  that  shineth  in  a  dark  place,'  until  the 

'  111  Sanh.  110 /^  we  read,  'OurEabbirf  the   one,    and  tormented  in  the    other 

teach,  that  the  Ten  Tribes  have  no  part  in  (Apoc.  Bar.  Ix.xxiii.  8). 
the  era  to  come,  because   it  is  written         ^  Thus,  for  example,  the  assertion  that 

"Tlie  Lord  drave  them  out  of  their  land  there  had  been  individuals  who  fulfilled 

in   anger,   and   in  wrath,   and   in   great  the  commandments  of  God,  Vis.  i.  ch.  iii. 

indignation,  and  cast  them  into  another  36;  the  domain  of  reason,  iv.  22;  v.  9; 

huul."    "  Tlie  Lord  drave  them  from  their  general  Messianic  blessings  to  the  world 

land" — in  the  present    era — "and  cast  at  laige,  Vis.  i.  ch.  iv.  27,  28;  the  idea 

them  into  another  land  " — in  the  era  to  of  a  law  within  their  minds,  like  that  of 

come.'     In  curious  agreement  with  this,  which  St.  Paul  sjieaks  in  the  case  of  the 

Pseudo-Baruch  writes  to  the  nine  and  a  heathen,     Vis.    iii.    ch.    vi.    45-47    (ed. 

half  tribes  to    'prepare   their  hearts  to  Fritzsche,  p.  609).     These  are  only  in- 

that  wliich  they  had  formerly  ijelieved,'  stances,  and  we  refer  besides  to  the  gen- 

lest  they  should  sutler  'in  l)oth  eras  {ab  eral  cast  of  the  reasoning. 
utroque  sceculo),^  being  led  captive  in 


NEARNESS   OF   MESSIAH'.S   COMING.  83 

day  dawned,  and  the  daj-star  rose  in  their  liearts."     It  was  this     CHAP, 
which  gave  meaning  to  their  worship,  tilled  them  with  patience  in        vi 
suflering,  kept  them  separate  from  the  nations  around,  and  ever  tixed  " — ~-r — ' 
their  hearts   and   thoughts  upon  Jerusalem.     For  the  'Jerusalem'  ''2Pet.  i.  19 
which  was  above  was  '■  the  mother '  oi'  them  all.     Yet  a  little  while, 
and  He  that  would  come  should  come,  and  not  tarry — and  then  all 
the  blessing  and  glory  would  be  theirs.     At  any  moment  the  glad- 
some tidings  might  burst  upon  them,  that  He  had  come,  when  their 
glory  would  shine  out  from  one  end  of  the  heavens  to  the  other.    All 
the  signs  of  His  Advent  had  come  to  pass.     Perhaps,  indeed,  the 
Messiah  might  even  now  be  there,  ready  to  manifest  Himself,  so  soon 
as  the  voice  of  Israel's  repentance  called  Him  from  His  hiding.  Any 
hour  might  that  banner  be  planted  on  the  top  of  the  mountains; 
that  glittering  sword  be  unsheathed;  that  trumpet  sound.     Closer 
then,  and  still  closer,  must  be  their  connection  with  Jerusalem,  as 
their  salvation  drew  nigh;  more  earnest  their  longing,   and  more 
eager  their  gaze,  till  the  dawn  of  that  long  expected  day  tinged  the 
Eastern  sky  with  its  brightness. 


84 


THE   PREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 


BOOK 
T 


'  Mac.  23  /' 


'  Rosh 
HaSh.  11  a 


t  Ber.  R.  44 
■'  Yalkut  S  2 


Ber.  R.  1 


CHAPTER  YII. 

IN  PALESTINE  —  JEWS   AND   GENTILES   IN    'THE   LAND' — THEIR  MUTUAL 
RELATIONS    AND    FEELINGS — 'THE    WALL    OF    SEPARATION.' 

The  pilgrim  who,  leaving  other  countries,  entered  Palestine,  must 
have  felt  as  if  he  had  crossed  the  threshold  of  another  world. 
Manners,  customs,  institutions,  law,  life,  nay,  the  very  intercourse 
between  man  and  man,  were  quite  different.  All  was  dominated  by 
the  one  all-absorbing  idea  of  religion.  It  penetrated  every  relation 
of  life.  Moreover,  it  was  inseparably  connected  with  the  soil,  as  well 
as  the  people  of  Palestine,  at  least  so  long  as  the  Temple  stood. 
Nowhere  else  could  the  Shekhinah  dAvell  or  manifest  itself;  nor  could, 
unless  under  exceptional  circumstances,  and  for  '  the  merit  of  the 
fathers,'  the  spirit  of  prophecy  be  granted  outside  its  bounds.  To 
the  orthodox  Jew  the  mental  and  spiritual  horizon  was  bounded  by 
Palestine.  It  was  'the  land';  all  the  rest  of  the  world,  except 
Babylonia,  was  '  outside  the  land. '  No  need  to  designate  it  specially 
as  'holy ';  for  all  here  bore  the  impress  of  sanctity,  as  he  understood 
it.  Not  that  the  soil  itself,  irrespective  of  the  people,  was  holy;  it 
was  Israel  that  made  it  such.  For,  had  not  God  given  so  many  com- 
mandments and  ordinances,  some  of  them  apparently  needless,  simjjly 
to  call  forth  the  righteousness  of  Israel;''  did  not  Israel  possess  the 
merits  of  'the  fathers,"'  and  specially  that  of  Abraham,  itself  so 
valuable  that,  even  if  his  descendants  had,  morally  speaking,  been  as 
a  dead  body,  his  merit  Avould  have  been  imputed  to  them?"  More 
than  that,  God  had  created  the  Avorld  on  account  of  Israel, ''  and  for 
their  merit,  making  preparation  for  them  long  before  their  appear- 
ance on  the  scene,  just  as  a  king  who  foresees  the  birth  of  his  son; 
nay,  Israel  had  been  in  God's  thoughts  not  only  before  anything  had 
actually  been  created,  but  even  before  every  other  creative  thought.'' 
If  these  distinctions  seem  excessive,  they  were,  at  least,  not  out  of 
proportion  to  the  estimate  formed  of  Israel's  merits.  In  theory,  the 
latter  might  be  su])posed  to  How  from  'good  works,'  of  course,  in- 
cluding the  strict  practice  of  legal  i)iety,  and  from  'study  of  the  law.' 


FUNDAMENTAL   DIFFERENCES   BETWEEN   JUDAISM   AND   CHlilST.  85 

But   ill  reality   it  was  '  study "  alone  to  which  such  supreme  merit     chap. 
attached.     Practice  required  knowledge  for  its  direction;  such  as  the        Vii 

Am-lui-arets  {^  country  people,'  plebeians,  in  the  Jewish  sense  of  ])eing  ^ ^-^-^ 

unlearned)  could  not  possess,''  who  had  bartered  away  the  highest  '.tJomp.Ab. 

crown  for  a  spade  with  which  to  dig.     And  '  the  school  of  Arum  ' — 

the  sages — the  *  great  ones  of  the  world '  had  long  settled  it,  that 

stiuly  was  before  w^orks.''     And  how  could  it  well  be  otherwise,  since  "Jer.  chag. 

*         .  i.  hal  7 

the  studies,  which  engaged  His  chosen  children  on  earth,  equally  occu-  towards 
pied  their  Almighty  Father  in  heaven?"     Could  anything,  then,  be  Jer.  Pes', 
lugher  than  the  peculiar  calling  of  Israel,  or  better  cpialify  them  for  cAb.  z.  3  6 
l)oing  the  sons  of  God? 

It  is  necessary  to  transport  oneself  into  this  atmosphere  to  under- 
stand the  views  entertained  at  the  time  of  Jesus,  or  to  form  any  con- 
ception of  their  infinite  contrast  in  spirit  to  the  new  doctrine.  The 
abhorrence,  not  unmingicd  with  contempt,  of  all  Gentile  ways, 
thoughts  and  associations;  the  worship  of  the  letter  of  the  Law;  the 
self-righteousness,  and  pride  of  descent,  and  still  more  of  knowledge, 
])ecome  thusintelligil)le  to  us,  and,  equally  so,  the  absolute  antagonism 
to  the  claims  of  a  Messiah,  so  unlike  themselves  and  their  own  ideal. 
Tlis  first  announcement  might,  indeed,  excite  hope,  soon  felt  to  have 
l)een  vain;  and  His  miracles  might  startle  for  a  time.  But  the  boun- 
dary lines  of  tlie  Kingdom  which  He  traced  were  essentially  different 
from  those  which  they  had  fixed,  and  within  which  t\\Qj  had  arranged 
everything,  alike  for  the  present  and  the  future.  Had  He  been 
content  to  step  witliin  them,  to  complete  and  realise  what  they  had 
indicated,  it  miglit  have  been  different.  Nay,  once  admit  their  funda- 
mental ideas,  and  there  was  much  that  was  beautiful,  true,  and  even 
gi'and  in  the  details.  But  -it  was  exactly  in  the  former  that  the  diver- 
gence lay.  Nor  was  there  any  possibility  of  reform  or  progress  here. 
The  past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  alike  as  regarded  the  Gentile 
world  and  Israel,  were  irrevocably  fixed:  or  rather,  it  might  almost  be 
said,  there  were  not  such — all  continuing  as  they  had  lieen  from  the 
creation  of  the  world,  nay,  long  before  it.  The  Torah  had  really 
existed  2,000  years  before  Creation;' the  patriarchs  had  had  their  ashir 
Academies  of  study,  and  they  had  known  and  observed  all  the  ordi-  onViiuVt.  v. 
nances;  and  traditionalism  had  the  same  origin,  both  as  to  time  and  siiau, i).266 
authority,  as  the  Law  itself  As  for  the  heathen  nations,  the  Law  had 
been  offered  by  God  to  them,  l)ut  refused,  and  even  their  after  re])ent- 
ance  would  prove  hypocritical,  as  all  their  excuses  would  lie  shown  to  be 
futile.  But  as  for  Israel,  even  though  their  good  deeds  should  l)e  few, 
yet,  by  cumulating  them  frf)m  among  all  the  peojile.  they  would  appear 


86  THE  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 

BOOK      ji'reat  in  the  end,  and  God  would  exact  payment  for  their  .sins  as  a  man 
I  docs  from  his  triends,  taking  little  sums  at  a  time.     It  was  in  this 

^- — ~^'  '  sense,  that  the  Ra))bis  employed  that  sublime  tjtjcnre,  representing  the 
Church  as  one  Ijody,  of  whicli  all  the  members  suH'ered  and  joyed  to- 
gether, which  St.  Paul  adopted  and  applied  in  a  vastly  ditierent  and 

»Eph. iv. ic.  spiritual  sense.'' 

If,  on  the  one  hand,  the  pre-eminence  of  Israel  depended  on  the 
Land,  and,  on  the  other,  that  of  the  Land  on  the  presence  of  Israel 
in  it,  the  Rabbinical  comjjlaint  was,  indeed,  well  grounded,  that  its 
M)oundaries  were  l)ecoming  narrow.'  We  can  scarcely  expect  any 
accurate  demarcation  of  them,  since  the  question,  wliat  belonged  to 
it,  was  determined  by  ritual  and  theological,  not  by  geographical  con- 
siderations. Not  only  the  imuiediate  neighborhood  (as  in  the  case  of 
Ascalon),  but  the  very  wall  of  a  city  (as  of  Acco  and  of  Caesarea) 
might  be  Palestinian,  and  yet  the  city  itself  be  regarded  as  '  outside '  the 
sacred  limits.  All  depended  on  who  had  originally  ])ossessed,  and  now 
held  a  place,  and  hence  what  ritual  ol)ligati(ms  lay  upon  it.  Ideally, 
as  we  may  say,  '  the  land  of  promise'  included  all  wliich  God  had 
covenanted  to  give  to  Israel,  although  never  yet  actually  possessed  by 
them.  Then,  in  a  more  restricted  sense,  the  'land'  comprised  what 
'  they  who  came  u\)  from  Egypt  took  possession  of,  from  Chezib  [about 
three  hours  north  of  Acre]  and  unto  the  river  [Euphrates],  and  unto 
Amanah.'  This  included,  of  course,  the  conquests  made  by  David  in 
the  most  prosperous  times  of  the  Jewish  commonwealth,  supposed  to 
have  extended  over  Mesopotamia,  Syria,  Zobali,  Achlah,  &c.  To  all 
these  districts  the  general  name  of  Soria,  (jr  Syria,  was  afterwards 
given.  This  formed,  at  the  time  of  which  we  Avrite,  a  sort  of  inner 
band  around  'the  land,' in  its  narrowest  and  only  real  sense;  just 
as  the  countries  in  which  Israel  was  specially  interested,  such  as 
Egypt,  Babylon,  Amnion,  and  Moab,  formed  an  outer  band.  These 
lands  were  heathen,  and  yet  not  quite  heathen,  since  the  dedication  of 
the  so-called  Tcru)notJ(,  or  first-fruits  in  a  prepared  state,  was  expected 
from  them,  while  Soria  shared  almost  all  the  obligations  of  Palestine, 
except  those  of  the  'second  tithes,'  and  the  fourth  year's  product  of 

'■Lev.  xi.x.  plants.''  But  the  wavesheaf  at  the  Paschal  Feast,  and  the  two  loaves 
at  Pentecost,  could  only  l)e  brought  from  wliat  had  grown  on  the 
holy  soil  itself.  This  latter  was  roughly  defined,  as  'all  which  they 
who  came  u])  from  Babylon  took  possession  of,  in  the  land  of  Israel, 
and  unto  Cliozil)."  Viewed  in  this  light, there  was  a  special  significance 
in  the  fact  that  Antioch. where  tlie  name  'Christian'  first marke<l  the 
Acts xj.  26  new  'Sect' which  had  sprung  up  in  Palestine,"  and  where  the  first 


24 


HEATHENLSAI    IN    AND    AROrND    TALESTlNi:.  87 

Gentile  Church  was  lunned,"  lay  just  outside  the  nortliern  l)oun(lar3^      CHAP. 
ot  '  tlie  laud.'     .Siuiilarly,   we  understand,  why  those  Jewish  zealots        ^^ 
who  would  tain  have  imposed  on  the  new  Church  the  yoke  of  the  Law/'  ^-^"^c    -^ 
concentrated  their  tirst  efforts  on  that  Sorid  which  was  reirarded  as  a   l^^ctsxi.  20, 
kind  of  outer  Palestine.  ''  Acts  xv.  1 

But,  even  so,  there  was  a  ii'radation  of  sanctity  in  the  Holy  Land 
itself,  in  accordance  with  ritual  distinctions.  Ten  degrees  arc  here 
enumerated,  beginning  with  the  bare  soil  of  Palestine,  and  culuiinat- 
ing  in  the  Most  Holy  Place  in  the  Temple — each  implying  some  ritual 
distinction,  which  did  not  attach  to  a  lowei- degree.  And  yet,  although 
the  very  dust  of  heathen  soil  was  supposed  to  carry  delilement,  like 
corruption  or  the  grave,  the  spots  most  sacred  were  everywhere  sur- 
rounded by  heathenism  ;  nay,  its  traces  were  visible  in  Jerusalem 
itself  The  reasons  of  this  are  to  be  st)ugiit  in  the  political  circum- 
stances of  Palestine,  and  in  the  persistent  endeavour  of  its  rulers — 
with  the  exception  of  a  very  brief  i^eriod  under  the  Maccabees — to 
Grecianise  the  country,  so  as  to  eradicate  that  Jewish  particularism 
which  must  always  be  antagonistic  to  every  foreign  element.  In 
general,  Palestine  might  be  divided  into  the  strictly  Jewish  territiny, 
and  the  so-called  Hellenic  cities.  The  latter  had  been  built  at  ditferent 
l)eriods,  and  were  politically  constituted  after  the  model  of  the  Greek 
cities,  having  their  own  senates  (generally  consisting  of  several  hundred 
persons)  and  magistrates,  each  city  with  its  adjoining  territory  forming 
a  sort  of  commonwealth  of  its  own.  But  it  must  not  be  imagined, 
that  these  districts  were  inhabited  exclusively,  or  even  chiefly,  by 
Greeks.  One  of  these  groups,  that  towards  Peraea,  was  really  Syrian, 
and  formed  part  of  Syria  Decapolis]  ^  while  the  other,  along  the  coast 
of  the  Mediterranean,  was  Phcenician.  Thus  ^  the  land'  was  hemmed 
in,  east  and  west,  within  its  own  borders,  while  south  and  north 
stretched  heathen  or  semi-heathen  districts.  The  strictly  Jewish 
territory  consisted  of  Judaia  proper,  to  which  Galilee,  Sanuiria  and 
Pertea  were  joined  as  Toparchies.  These  Toparchies  consisted  of  a 
group  of  townships,  under  a  Metropolis.  The  villages  and  townships 
themselves  had  neither  magistrates  of  their  own,  nor  civic  constitu- 
tion, nor  lawful  popular  assemblies.  Such  civil  adminstration  as 
they  required  devolved  on  '  Scribes'  (the  so-called  Koo/uoypa/x/uaTsis 
or  TOTToypajupinTSig).  Thus  Jerusalem  was  really,  as  well  as  nominally, 

I  Tlie  followina:  cities  probably  formed  Dion,  Pella.  Gerasa.   and  Canatiia.     On 

the  Decripo/i.'i,    tliouo;!!    it  is  ditticult  to  these    cities,    comi).   Caspnri.    Ghronol. 

feel  (luite  sure  in  reference  to  one  or  tlie  GJeoiir.   Einl.  in  d.  Lebeu  J.  Christi,  pp. 

other  of  them:  Damascus,   Philadeli)liia,  83-90. 
Rai)hana,  Scythopolis,   Gadara,   Hippos, 


8  THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

BOOK      tlie  capital  of  the  whole  land.     Judaea  itself  was  arranged  into  eleven, 

I         or  rather,  more  exactly,  into  nine  Toparchies,  of  which  Jerusalem  was 

— ^^"^  tlie  chief.  While,  therefore,  the  Hellenic  cities  were  each  independent  of 

the  other,  the  whole  Jewish  territory  formed  only  one  '  Civitas.''  Rule, 

government,  tribute— in  short,  political  life — centred  in  Jerusalem. 

But  this  is  not  all.  From  motives  similar  to  those  which  led  to 
the  founding  of  other  Hellenic  cities,  Herod  the  Great  and  his  imme- 
diate successors  built  a  number  of  towns,  which  were  inhabited  chiefly 
by  Gentiles,  and  had  independent  constitutions,  like  those  of  the  Hel- 
lenic cities.  Thus,  Herod  himself  built  Sebaste  (Samaria),  in  the 
centre  of  the  country;  Cassarea  in  the  west,  commanding  the  sea-coast; 
Gaba  in  Galilee,  close  to  the  great  plain  of  Esdraeion;  and  Esbonitis 
in  Percea.^  Similarly,  Philip  the  Tetrarch  built  Caesarea  Philippi 
and  Julias  (Bethsaida-Julias,  on  the  western  shore  of  the  lake);  and 
Herod  Antipas  another  Julias,  and  Tiberias.'*  The  object  of  these 
cities  was  twofold.  As  Herod,  well  knowing  his  unpopularity,  sur- 
rounded himself  by  foreign  mercenaries,  and  reared  fortresses  around 
his  palace  and  the  Temple  which  he  built,  so  he  erected  these  forti- 
fied posts,  which  he  populated  with  strangers,  as  so  many  outworks, 
to  surround  and  command  Jerusalem  and  the  Jews  on  all  sides.  Again, 
as,  despite  his  profession  of  Judaism,  he  reared  magnificent  heathen 
temples  in  honour  of  Augustus  at  Seljaste  and  Caesarea,  so  those 
cities  were  really  intended  to  form  centres  of  Grecian  influence  within 
the  sacred  territory  itself.  At  the  same  time,  the  Herodian  cities  en- 
joyed not  the  same  amount  of  liberty  as  the  'Hellenic,'  which,  with 
the  exception  of  certain  imposts,  were  entirely  self-governed,  while  in 
the  former  there  were  representatives  of  the  Herodian  rulers.^ 

Although  each  of  these  towns  and  districts  had  its  special  deities 
and  rites,  some  being  determined  by  local  traditions,  their  prevailing 
character  may  be  described  as  a  mixture  of  Greek  and  S3Tian  worship, 
the  former  preponderating,  as  might  be  expected.*  On  the  other 
hand,  Herod  and  his  successors  encouraged  the  worship  of  the  Emperor 
and  of  Rome,  which,  characteristically,  was  chiefly  practised  in  the 
East."      Thus,  in  the   temple   which   Herod   built   to   Augustus  in 

1  Herod  rebuilt  or  built  other  cities,  Die  Stadt.  u.  biirgerl.  Verf.  d.  Roin. 
such  as  Autipatris,  Cypros,  Phasaelis,  Reichs,  2  vols. ;  and  for  this  part,  \(il.  ii. 
Anthedon,   &c.      Schiirer  describes  the      pp.  336-354,  and  i)p.  370-372. 

two  first  as  built,  but  they   were   only  *  A  good  sketch  of  the  various  rites 

rehmlt  or  fortitied  (com]).  Ant.  xiii.  I.').  prevailing  in  different  places  is  given  by 

1;  War  i.  21.  8.)  by  Herod.  Schiirer,  Neutest.  Zeitg.  pp.  378-3X5. 

2  He  also  rebuilt  Sepphoris.  ^  Comp.  Weisefer.  Beitr.  z  riclit.  Wiir- 
•^  Comp.  on  the  subject  of  the  civic  in-  dig.  d.  Evaug.  pp.  90,  !)1. 

stitutionr^  of  the  Roman  Empire,  Knhn, 


HEATHEN  TEMPLES,  THEATRES,   AND  MANNERS.  89 

Caesarea,  there  were  statues  of  the  Emperor  as  ()lyini)ian  Zeus,  and  CHAP, 
of  Rome  as  Hera.''     He  was  wont  to  excuse  this  conformity  to  heathen-        vn 

ism  before  his  own  people  on  the  ground  of  political  necessity.     Yet,  ' — ^^ — ' 

even  if  his  religious  inclinations  had  not  been  in  that  direction,  he  "-^'^-Ant. 

~  '  XV.  9.  b: 

would  have  earnestly  striven  to  Greciauise  the  people.  Not  only  in  ^[^^'  '•  '^^• 
Cassarea,  but  even  in  Jerusalem,  he  built  a  theatre  and  amphitheatre, 
where  at  great  expense  games  were  held  every  four  years  in  honour  of 
Augustus.'  Nay,  he  placed  over  the  great  gate  of  the  Temjjle  at 
Jerusalem  a  massive  golden  eagle,  the  symbol  of  Roman  dominion,  as 
a  sort  of  counterpart  to  that  gigantic  golden  vine,  the  symbol  of  Israel, 
which  hung  above  the  entrance  to  the  Holy  Place.  These  measures,  in- 
deed, led  to  popular  indignation,  and  even  to  conspiracies  and  tumults,*"  "  Ant.  xv.  s. 
thougli  not  of  tlie  same  general  and  intense  character,  as  when,  at  a  e.  2 
later  period,  Pilate  sought  to  introduce  into  Jerusalem  images  of  the 
Emperor,  or  when  the  statue  of  Caligula  was  to  be  placed  in  the 
Temple.  In  connection  with  this,  it  is  curious  to  notice  that  the 
Talmud,  while  on  the  wiiole  disapproving  of  attendance  at  theatres 
and  amphitheatres — chiefly  on  the  ground  that  it  implies  *  sitting  in 
the  seat  of  scorners,'  and  might  involve  contributions  to  the  main- 
tenance of  idol-worship — does  not  expressly  prohibit  it,  nor  indeed 
speak  very  decidedly  on  the  subject."  ^  so  at  least 

The  views  of  the  Rabbis  in  regard  to  pictorial  representations  are  tha*!^  comp! 
still  more  interesting,  as  illustrating  their  abhorrence  of  all  contact  sion  and"^ 
with  idolatry.  We  mark  here  differences  at  two,  if  not  at  three  cmiouYar- 
periods,  according  to  the  outward  circumstances  of  the  peoi)le.  The  favou?*o/° 
earliest  and  strictest  opinions"  absolutely  forbade  any  representation  fn  Ab.Ta^n 
of  things  in  heaven,  on  earth,  or  in  the  waters.  But  the  Mishnah''  foiiowfng 
seems  to  relax  these  prohibitions  by  subtle  distinctions,   which  are  ''Mer-niita 

'■  ''  '  on  Ex.  XX. 

still  further  carried  out  in  the  Talmud.^  4,e(i.wei8s, 

p.  To  a 

To  those  who  held  such  stringent  views,  it  must  have  been  pecu-  eAb.  zar. 
liarly  galling  to  sec  their  most  sacred  feelings  openly  outraged  by  their 
own  rulers.  Tlius,  the  Asmonean  princess,  Alexandra,  the  mother-in- 
law  of  Herod,  could  so  far  forget  the  traditions  of  her  house,  as  to 
send  i)ortraits  of  her  son  and  daughter  to  Mark  Antony  for  infamous 
purposes,  in  hope  of  thereby  winning  him  for  her  ambitious  plans.  ^  fjo«.  Ant. 
One  would  be  curious  to  know  who  painted  these  pictures,  for,  when 
tlie  statue  of  Caligula  was  to  be  made  for  the  Temi)le  at  Jerusalem,  no 

'  The  Actiau  jj'ames  took  place  every  (Aut.  xvi.  5.  1;  coiiip-  War  i.  21.  8). 

fifth  year,  tlu-ee  years  always  intervening.  .  '^  For  a  full  statement  of  the  Tainnidi- 

The  games  in  Jerusalem  were  held  in  the  cal  views  as  to  images,  representations 

year  28  b.o.  (Jos.  Ant.  xv.  8.  1);  the  first  on  coins,  and  the  most  ancient  Jewish 

games  iu  Caesarea  in  the  year   12  b.c.  coins,  see  Appendix  IH. 


111. 


XV.  2.  5  and 


90 


THE   PREPARATION   FOR   THE   GO.^PEL. 


r.ooK 


"  ./o.<.  War  V. 
4.  i 


1'  Acts  xii.23 


'■  Ant.  xix. 
9.  1 


d  Dan.  vii. 
23 


'  Miclr.  R. 
on  Ex.  Par. 
23 

f  Alj.  Z.  2  h 


2  Ab.  Z.  10«; 
Gitt.  80  a 


''  Ps.  Ixxvl. 
9 


native  artist  could  bo  toiiiid,  and  the  work  was  entrusted  to  Phoe- 
niciaus.  It  must  have  been  these  foreigners  also  who  made  the  '  figures, ' 
with  which  Herod  adorned  his  palace  at  Jerusalem,  and  'the  lirazen 
statues'  in  the  gardens  'through  which  the  water  ran  out,""  as  well  as 
the  colossal  statues  at  Csesarea,  and  those  of  the  three  daughters  of 
Agrippa,  which  after  his  death'' were  so  shamefully  abused  by  the 
soldiery  at  Sebaste  and  Csesarea." 

This  abhorrence  of  all  connected  Avith  idolatry,  and  the  contemi)t 
entertained  for  all  that  was  non-Jewish,  will  in  great  measure  exi)laiu 
the  code  of  legislation  intended  to  keej)  the  Jew  and  Gentile  apart.  If 
Judaea  had  to  submit  to  the  power  of  Rome,  it  could  at  least  avenge 
itself  in  the  Academies  of  its  sages.  Almost  innnmeral)le  stories  are 
told  in  which  Jewish  sages,  always  easily,  confute  Roman  and  Greek 
philosophers;  and  others,  in  which  even  a  certain  Emperor  (Antoninus) 
is  represented  as  constantly  in  the  most  menial  relation  of  self-abase- 
ment before  a  Rabbi. ^  Rome,  which  was  the  fourth  beast  of  Daniel," 
would  in  the  age  to  come,-  when  Jerusalem  would  be  the  metropolis 
of  all  lands,"  be  the  first  to  excuse  herself  on  false  though  vain  pleas 
for  her  wrongs  to  Israel.''  But  on  worldly  grounds  also,  Rome  was  con- 
temptible, having  derived  her  language  and  writing  from  the  Greeks, 
and  not  possessing  even  a  hereditary  succession  in  her  empire.*^  If 
such  was  the  estimate  of  dreaded  Rome,  it  may  lie  imagined  in  what 
contempt  other  nations  were  held.  Well  might  'the  earth  treml)le,''' 
for,  if  Israel  had  not  accepted  the  Law  at  Sinai,  the  whole  world 
would  have  been  destroyed,  while  it  once  more  'was  still'  when  that 
happy  event  took  place,  although  God  in  a  manner  forced  Israel  to  it.' 
And  so  Israel  was  purified  at  Mount  Sinai  from  the  impurity  which 
clung  to  our  race  in  consequence  of  the  unclean  union  between  Eve 
and  the  serpent,  and  which  still  adhered  to  all  other  nations!  ^ 

To  begin  with,  every  Gentile  child,  so  soon  as  born,  was  to  be 
regarded  as  unclean.  Those  who  actually  worshipped  mountains,  hills, 
bushes,  &c. — in  short,  gross  idolaters — should  be  cut  down  with  the 
sword.  But  as  it  was  impossible  to  exterminate  heathenism,  Rab- 
binic legislation  kept  certain  definite  objects  in  view,  which  nmy  be 
thus  summarised  :  To  prevent  Jews  from  being  inadvertently  led  into 


1  Comp.  here  the  interestins;  tractate 
of  Dr.  Bodek,  'Marc.  Aur.  Anton,  als 
Freiiud  u.  Zeitgeuosse  ties  R.  Jehuda  lia 
Na.-^i.' 

■  T\w  Atliidlnhho,  'sfecuhini  futiinun." 
to  be  (li.stin,2;ui.shefl  from  the  Ohnii  hiihJxi. 
'the  world  to  come.' 


3  Ab.  Z.  22  h.  But  as  in  what  follows 
the  quotations  would  be  too  numerous, 
they  will  be  omitted.  Each  statement, 
however,  advanced  in  tiie  text  or  notes 
is  derived  from  part  of  the  Talmudic 
tractate  Abodali  Zarali. 


8  from  top 


AVOIDANCE   OF   CONTACT   WITH    lIEATHENISxM.  91 

idolatry;  to  avoid  all  participation  in  idolatry;  not  to  do  anything     CHAP. 
which  might  aid  the  heathen  in  their  woi'ship;  and,  beyond  all  this,        Vll 
not  to  give  pleasure,  nor  even  hel]),  to  heathens.     The  latter  involved  a   "~- — r — • 
most  dangerous  princii)le,  ca[)able  of  almost  indelinite  ai)plication  by 
fanaticism.     Even  the  Mishnah  goes  so  far"  as   to    forbid  aid  to  a  "Ab.  z.  ii.i 
mother  in  the  hour  of  her  need,  or  nourishment  to  her  babe,  in  order 
not  to  bring  up  a  child  for  idolatry!'     But  this  is  not  all.     Heathens 
Avere,  indeed,  not  to  be  precipitated  into  danger,  but  yet  not  to  bo 
delivered  from  it.     Indeed,  an  isolated  teacher  ventiires  even  u^xtn  this 
statement:   'The   best    among   the    Gentiles,    kill;   the   best   among 
seri)ents,  crush  its  head.'"     Still  more  terrible  was   the   fanaticism  "Meruiita, 

.  .  ed.  Weiss, 

Avhich  directed,  that  heretics,  traitors,  and  those  who  had  left  the  p.^a3i,,nne 
Jewish  faith  should  be  thrown  into  actual  danger,  and,  if  they  were 
in  it,  all  means  for  their  escape  removed.  No  intercourse  of  any 
kind  was  to  be  had  with  such — not  even  to  invoke  their  medical  aid 
in  case  of  danger  to  life,-  since  it  was  deemed,  that  he  who  had  to  do 
with  heretics  was  in  imminent  peril  of  becoming  one  himself,^  and 
that,  if  a  heretic  returned  to  the  true  faith,  he  should  die  at  once — 
partly,  probably,  to  expiate  his  guilt,  and  partly  from  fear  of  relapse. 
Terrible  as  all  this  sounds,  it  was  probalily  not  worse  than  the 
fanaticism  disi)layed  in  what  are  called  more  enlightened  times. 
Impartial  history  must  chronicle  it,  however  painful,  to  show  the  cir- 
cumstances in  which  teaching  so  far  ditierent  was  propounded  by 
Christ.^ 

In  truth,  the  bitter  liatred  which  the  Jew  bore  to  the  Gentile  can 
only  be  explained  from  the  estimate  entertained  of  his  character.     The 

'  The  Tahnnd  declares  it  only  lawful  the  arraugements  of  the  world '  (Gitt. 

if  done  to  avoid  exciting  liatred  againrit  (51    (/).     Tiie    quotation   so   often   made 

the  Jews.  (Ab.  Z.  3  (t),  that  a  Gentile  wlio  occupied 

''  Tliere  is  a  well-known  story  told  of  himself  with   tlie   Torah  was  to  be  re- 

a  Rabbi  who  was  bitten  by  a  serpent.  garded    as    equal    to  the    High-Priest, 

and  about  to  be  cured  by  tlie  invocation  proves  nothing,  since  in  the  case  sup- 

of  the  name  of  Jesus  by  a  Jewish  CIn-is-  posed  the  Gentile  acts  like  a  Rabbinic 

tian,  which  was,  however,  interdicted.  Jew.     But,   and  this  is  a  more  serious 

•'  Yet,  such  is  the  moral  obli(iuity,  that  iioint,  it  is  diflicult  to  believe  that  those 

even  idolatry  is  allowed  to  save  life,  pro-  who  make  this  (luotation  are  not  aware, 

vided  it  be  done  in  secret!  how  the  Talmud  (Ab.  Z.  3  d)  immediately 

*  Against    this,    although    somewhat  labours  to  prove  that  llieir  reward  is  not 

doubtfidly,  sucli  concessions  maybe  put  e(|ual  to  that  of  Israelites.    A  somewhat 

as  that,  outside  Palestine,  Gentiles  were  similar  charge  of  one-sidedness,   if  not 

not  to  be  considered  as  idolators,  but  as  of  unfairness,  nuist  be  brought  against 

observing  the  customs  of  their  fathers  Drutsch   (Lecture   on   the   Talmud,   Re- 

(Chull.   13  b\  and  that  the  poor  of  the  mains,   pi).    U(i,    147),   whose  sketch  of 

Gentiles  were  to  be  equally  supported  Judaism   shoidd   be   compared,   for  ex- 

with  those  of  Israel,   their  sick  visited,  amjile,  with  the  tirst  Perek  of  the  Tal- 

and  their  dead  iiuried;  it   being,   how-  mudic  tractate  Abodah  Zarah. 
ever,  significantly  added,  '  on  account  of 


92  THE  PREPARATION  FOR  THE  GOSPEL. 

BOOK      most  vile,  and  even  iinnatural,  crimes  wore  imi)ute<l  to  them.     It  was 
I  uot  safe  to  leave  cattle  in  their  charge,  to  allow  their  women  to  nurse 

^--"v-^'^  infants,  or  their  physicians  to  attend  the  sick,  nor  to  walk  in  their 
company,  without  taking  precautions  against  sudden  and  unprovoked 
attacks.  They  should,  so  tar  as  possi))]e,  l)e  altogether  avoided, 
except  in  cases  of  necessity  or  for  the  sake  of  business.  They  and 
theirs  were  defiled;  their  houses  unclean,  as  containing  idols  or 
things  dedicated  to  them;  their  feasts,  their  joyous  occasions,  their 
very  contact,  was  polluted  by  idolatry;  and  there  was  no  security,  if  a 
heathen  were  left  alone  in  a  room,  that  he  might  not,  in  wantonness 
or  by  carelessness,  defile  the  wine  or  meat  on  the  table,  or  the  oil 
and  wheat  in  the  store.  Under  such  circumstances,  therefore,  every- 
thing must  be  regarded  as  having  l)een  rendered  unclean.  Three 
days  before  a  heathen  festival  (according  to  some,  also  three  days 
after)  every  business  transaction  with  them  was  prohilnted,  for  fear 
of  giving  either  help  or  i)leasure.  Jews  were  to  avoid  passing  thr(High 
a  city  where  there  was  an  idolatrous  feast — nay,  they  were  not  even  to 
sit  down  within  tlie  shadow  of  a  tree  dedicated  to  idol-Avorship.  Its 
wood  was  polluted;  if  used  in  baking,  the  bread  was  unclean;  if  a 
shuttle  had  been  made  of  it,  not  only  was  all  cloth  woven  on  it  for- 
bidden, but  if  such  had  l)een  inadvertently  mixed  with  other  pieces  of 
cloth,  or  a  garment  made  from  it  placed  with  other  garments,  the 
whole  became  unclean.  Jewish  workmen  were  not  to  assist  in  building 
basilicas,  nor  stadia,  nor  places  where  judicial  sentences  were  pro- 
nounced by  the  heathen.  Of  course,  it  was  not  lawful  to  let  houses 
or  fields,  nor  to  sell  cattle  to  them.     Milk  drawn  by  a  heathen,  if  a 

=  Ab.  zar.  Jew  had  not  l)een  present  to  watch  it, "  bread  and  oil  prepared  by  them, 
were  uidawful.  Their  wine  was  wholly  interdicted^ — the  mere  touch 
of  a  heathen  polluted  a  whole  cask;  ]iay,  even  to  put  one's  nose  to 
heathen  wine  was  strictly  prohibited  ! 

Painful  as  these  details  are,  they  might  be  multiplied.  And  yet 
the  bigotry  of  these  Rabbis  w^as,  perhaps,  not  worse  than  that  of 
other  sectaries.  It  w^as  a  painful  logical  necessity  of  their  system, 
against  which  their  heart,  no  doubt,  often  rebelled;  and,  it  must  be 
truthfully  added,  it  was  in  measure  accoimted  for  by  the  terrible 
history  of  Israel. 

'  According  to   R.  Asi,   there  was  a  whether  for  personal  use  or  for  trading, 

threefold  distinction.     If  wine  had  been  Lastly,    wine  prepared  by  a   Jew,    but 

dedicated  to  an  idol,  to  carry,  even  on  a  deposited  in  custody  of  a  Gentile,  was 

stick,  so  much  as  tlie  weight  of  an  olive  prohibited  for  personal  use.  but  allowed 

of    it.    detlled   a   man.     Other   wine,    if  for  ti-athc. 
prepared  by  a  heathen,  was  prohibited, 


TJIE  'SCRIBES.' 


93 


CHAPTER     yill. 

TRADITIONALISM,  ITS  ORIGIN,  CHARACTER,  AND  LITERATURE — THE  MISH- 
NAH  AND  TALMUD — THE  (JOSPEL  OF  CHRIST — THE  DAWN  OF  A  NEW 
DAY. 

In  trying  to  picture  to  ourselves  New  Testament  scenes,  the  ligure 
most  prominent,  next  to  those  of  the  chief  actors,  is  that  of  the  Scribe 
(ICID,  yptx/jjuaTEvg,  Uteratus).  He  seems  ubiquitous;  we  meet  him  in 
Jerusalem,  in  Judsea,  and  even  in  Galilee.^  Indeed,  he  is  indisj)en- 
sable,  not  only  in  Babylon,  which  may  have  been  the  birthplace  of  his 
order,  but  among  the  'dispersion'  also.''  Everywhere  he  appears  as 
the  mouthpiece  and  representative  of  tlie  people;  he  pushes  to  the 
front,  the  crowd  respectfully  giving  way,  and  eagerly  hanging  on  his 
utterances,  as  those  of  a  recognised  authority.  He  has  been  solemnly 
ordained  l)y  the  laying  on  of  hands;  and  is  the  Eabbi,^  'my  great 
one,'  Master,  am/jjlitudo.  He  puts  questions;  he  urges  objections; 
he  expects  full  exi)lanations  and  respectful  demeanour.  Indeed,  his 
hyper-ingenuity  in  questioning  has  become  a  proverb.  There  is  not 
measure  of  his  dignity,  nor  yet  limit  to  his  importance.  He  is  the 
'  lawyer,'"  the  '  well-plastered  pit,'  filled  with  the  water  of  knowledge 
'  out  of  which  not  a  drop  can  escape,'  "^  in  opposition  to  the  weeds  of 
uutilled  soil '  (c^-;,2)  of  ignorance."  He  is  the  Divine  aristocrat, 
among  tlu;  vulgar  herd  of  rude  and  ])rofane  'country-people,'  who 
'know  not  the  Law' and  are  'cursed.'  More  than  that,  his 
order  constitutes  the  ultimate  authority  on  all  questions  of  faith 
and  practice;  he  is  'the  Exegete  of  the  Laws,' '  the  'teacher  of  the 
Law,'"*  and  along  with  'the  chief  priests'  and  'eldtn-s'  a  judge  in 
the  ecclesiastical  tribunals,  whether  of  the  capital  or  in  the  pro- 
vinces.'' Although  generally  appearing  in  comi^any  with  'the 
Pharisees,'  he  is  not  necessarily  one  of  them — for  tliey  represent  a 


CHAP. 
VIII 


St.  Luke 

T.  17 


*  Jos.  Ant. 
xvlli.  3.  5; 
XX.  11.  2 


1  The  title  Rahhon  {i>nr  Mastor)  oc- 
curs first  in  connection  witli  Gamaliel  i. 
(Acts  V.  S4).  Tlie  N.T.  expression  Rab- 
boni  or  RahhoKui  {^X.  Mark  .\.  .')1;  St. 
John  XX.  K!)  takes  the  word  Rabbon  or 
Rabba/i  (here  in  the  absolute  sense)= 


Roh//,  and  adds  lo  it  the  i)ersonal  suffix 
'my,'  pronouncinii'  the  I\am/'z  in  the 
Syi'iac  maimer. 

-  Not  t.') '/,  as  aimd  T)('r('iif)Oiir</.  Simi- 
lai'jy.  his  rendering;'  •  litteralenient,  "ci- 
terne  vide  "" '  seems  to  me  erroneous. 


the  legls 
DivinEe 
perltus,  St. 
Matt.  xxil. 
35;  St.  Luke 
vii.  30;  X. 
•25 :  xi.  45 ; 
xlv.  3 

'•  Ab.  ii.  8 
<■  Ber.  io  6  2 ; 
Ab.  li.  5; 
Bemid.  R.  3 

f  Jns.  Ant. 
SVll.  6.  2 

■^    r'Ojuo5i5ac- 
KaAo?,  St. 
Luke  V.  17; 
Acts  V.  34 : 
comp.  also 
1  Tim.  i.  7 

I'  St.  Matt, 
li.  4:  XX.  18: 
xxi.  \h: 
x.Nvi.  57: 
xxvii.  41; 
St.  Mark 
xlv.l.43:xv. 
1 :  St.  Luke 
xxii.  2,  66; 
xxiii.  10; 
Acts  iv.  5 


i'  Sipiii-i 

Niiml), 

2". /> 

'-  on 
1' 

1'  Si,)hr. 
Dent.  ] 
lOr. ,( 

''  on 

94  THE    J'liKl'ARATlON    FUU    THE    GOSPEL. 

BOOK      religious  party,  while  lie  has  a  status,  and  holds  an  oMice.^     In  short, 
I  he  is-  tlu;  TaliiiUl  or  learned  student,  the  ('luikliaiii  or  sage,  whose 

^^ — ^^-^  honour  is  to  l)e  great  in  tlu'  future  world.  Kach  Scribe  outweighed 
all  the  eounnon  people,  who  must  aecordingly  i)ay  him  every  honour. 
Nay,  they  were  honoured  of  God  Himself,  and  their  i)raises  proclaimed 
by  the  angels;  and  in  heaven  also,  each  of  them  would  hold  the  same 
rank  and  distinction  as  on  earth."  Such  was  to  be  the  resi)ect  i)aid 
to  their  sayings,  that  they  were  to  be  absolutely  1)elieved,  even  if  they 
were  to  declare  that  to  1)e  at  the  right  hand  which  Avas  at  the  left,  or 
vice  versa ^ 

An  institution  which  had  attained  such  proportions,  and  wielded 
such  powei-.  could  not  have  been  of  recent  grovrtli.  In  ))oint  of  fact, 
its  rise  was  very  gra<lual,  and  stretched  back  to  the  time  of  Xehemiah. 
if  not  beyond  it.  Altliough  from  the  utter  confusion  of  historical 
notices  in  Ivabbinic  writings  and  their  constant  practice  of  ante- 
dating events,  it  is  impossible  to  furnish  satisfactory  details,  the  genei'al 
developnu'ut  of  the  institution  can  be  traced  witli  sufficient  precision. 

cEzravu.f;,    If  Kzra   is  described  in  Holy  Writ'  as  'a  ready  {experfjiH)   Scribe,' 
'    ■  '       who  liad  '  set  his  heart  to  seek  (seek  out  the  full  meaning  of)  the  law 

'T*""         of  the  Lord,  and  to  do  it,  and  to  teach  in  Israel,''  this  might  indicate 

I'l'^'t'""  ^^  ^^^^  successors,  the  Sopherim  (Scribes),  the  threefold  direction  A\iiich 
their  studies  afterwards  took:  the  J\['ulrash^  the  Hdlal^liali,  and  the 

•  Nedar.  iv.  H((gf/n(Jtif/ ,'  '  of  wh'iQh  the  one  pointed  to  Scriptural  investigation, 
the  other  to  Avhat  was  to  be  observed,  and  the  third  to  oral  teaching 
in  the  widest  sense.  But  Ezra  left  his  work  uncompleted.  On 
Nehemiah's  second  arrival  in  Palestine,  he  found  nmtters  again  in  a 

fNeh.  xiii.  statc  of  utmost  confusiou.'  He  must  have  felt  the  need  of  establish- 
ing some  permanent  authority  to  watch  over  religious  affairs.  This 
we  take  to  have  been  '  the  Great  Assembly, '  or,  as  it  is  commonly 
called,  the  Mlreat  Synagogue.'  It  is  impossible  with  certainty  to 
determine,'^  either  who  composed  this  assend)ly,  or  of  how  man} 
members  it  consisted.*     Prol)ably  it  comprised  the  leading  men  in 

'  The  (listhictioii  between  'Phai'isees'  tares  on  tli is  subject  have  been  hazarded, 

and   '.Scribes,' is  marked  in   many  pas-  whidi  need  not  here  tind a  place.   Comp. 

sages  in  the  N.T.,  for  e.\"anii)le.  St.  Alatt.  for    ex.     the    two   articles   of   Gratz   in 

xxiii.  passim;   St.    Luke  vii.  :iO;  xiv.  S;  Frankeri^  Mouatsschrift  for  1857,  pp.  31 

and  especially  in  St.  Luke  xi.  4M.  comp.  etc.  fil  etc.,  the  main  ])Ositions  of  which 

with   V.    40.     TJie   words    '  Scribes   and  have,  however,   been    adopted  ])y  some 

Phari.sees.    hypocrites.'  in   ver.   44.   are,  learned  English  writers, 
accordiny-  to  all  evidence,  spurious.  *  The  Talmudic  notices  are  often  incon- 

'■*  In  Ned.  iv.  :5  this  is  the  actual  divi-  sLstent.  The    nundjer  as  uiven   in  them 

sion.  Of  course,  in  another  sense  the  Mid-  amounts  to  about  120.     B>it  tiie  modern 

rash  mi<?ht  be  coiisldei'ed  as  the  source  of  doubts  (of  Kuenen  and  others)  against 

both  the  llalhkhali  and  tiie  Haiiiiadali.  the  in.stitution  itself  cannot  be  sustained. 

■'  Very  straniiv  and  uu,ur(>\iiult'il  eonjec- 


THK     (iREAT    SVNA(;()(;  IK  '  AND    TlIK   •  ('<  ;l  PI.KS.'  95 

(Miureh  and  State,  tlic  chicr  pi-R'sts,  elders,  and  'Jiidg'cs" — the  latter  CHAP, 
two  classes  includinii'  -the  Sci-ibes,"  il",  indeed,  that  order  was  already       ^'tn 

separately    organised.'     Probably  also  the   term   -Great  Assem))ly  '  ^- — -^.' — ' 

refers  rather  to  a  succession  of  men  than  to  one  Synod;  the  ingen-  »Ezrax.  ii; 

.  '  ^  Nell.  V.  7 

uity  of  later  times  tilling  such  parts  of  the  historical  canvas  as  had 
been  left  blank  with  fictitious  notices.  In  the  nature  of  things  such  an 
assend)ly  could  not  exercise  permanent  sway  in  a  sparsely  pojudated 
country,  without  a  strong  central  authority.  Noi-  could  they  iiave 
wielded  real  i)()wer  during  the  political  difficulties  and  troubles  of 
foreign  domination.  The  oldest  tradition'' sums  up  the  result  of  their  'Ab.  1. 1 
activity  in  this  sentence  ascribed  to  them:  ' Bii  careful  in  judgment, 
set  up  many  Talmidim,  and  make  a  hedge  about  the  To  rah  (Law).' 

In   the  course  of  time  this  rope  of  sand  dissolved.     The  High- 
Priest,  Simon  tilt  Just,''  is  already  designated  as  'of  the  remnants  of  •=  in  the  be- 

■  .  .  ginning  of 

the  Great  Assemblv.'     But  even  this  exi)ression  does  not  necessarily   tu.  tiurd 

A  _    •      (•(•ntui-y 

imply  that  he  actually  belonged  to  it.  In  the  troublous  times  which  ^■^'■ 
followed  his  Pontificate,  the  sacred  study  seems  to  liav(^  been  left  to 
solitary  individuals.  The  Mishnic  tractate  Aboth,  which  records  -the 
sayings  of  the  Fathers,'  here  gives  us  only  the  name  of  Antigonus 
of  Socho.  It  is  significant,  that  for  the  first  time  we  now  meet  a  (ii-eek 
name  among  Rabbinic  authorities,  together  with  an  indistinct  allusion 
to  his  disciples.*'^  The  long  interval  between  Simon  the  Just  and  ''Ab.  i.  3, 4 
Antigonus  and  his  disciples,  brings  us  to  the  terrible  time  of  Antiochus 
Kpiphanes  and  the  great  Syrian  persecution.  The  \'eiT  sayings  at- 
tributed to  these  two  sound  like  an  echo  of  the  political  state  of  the 
country.  On  three  things,  Simon  was  wont  to  say,  the  permanency 
of  the  (Jewish?)  world  depends:  on  the  Torah  (faithfulness  to  the  I/aw 
and  its  i)ursuit),  on  worship  (the  non-i)articipation  in  (ilrecianism). 
and  on  works  of  righteousness.''  They  Avere  dark  times,  when  (Jod's  '  Ab.  i.  2 
l)ersecuted  people  were  tcmi)ted  to  think,  that  it  might  be  vain  to  serve 
Him,  in  wliich  Antigonus  had  it:  '  IJe  not  like  servants  who  serve 
their  nuister  for  the  sake  of  reward,  but  be  like  servants  who  serve 
their  lord  Avithout  a  view  to  the  getting  of  reward,  and  let  the  feai-  of 
heaven  be  upon  you.' '  After  these  two  names  come  those  of  the  so-  fAb.  s.  3 
<'allcd  Aa'C  Zugoth,  or  'couples,'  of  Avhom  Hillel  and  Shammai  are  the 
last.     Later  tradition  has  represented  these  successive  couples  as, 

•  Zunz  lias  well  pohited  out  tliat,  if  in  statiiiff  tliat.  except  for  .special  reason.^.  I 

Ab.  i.  4  tlie  first  '  couple  '  is  said  to  liave  shall    not  refer   to    previous  writers   on 

'received   from  tlieni ' — wliile  only  An-  this  subject,  partly  lK>cause  it  would   ne- 

tiuonus   is  nieiilioned  in  the  precediiid;-  cessitate  too  nuuiy  (luotations,  but  ciiictly 

Mishnah.  it    must  imply   Antiii-onus  and  because   the   line  of    arii;unient    1    have 

Ills  uiHKuned  disciples  and  followers.     In  taken   dlflers  from   that  of  my  predeees- 

iivneral.  1   may  take  lliis   opportunity  of  sors. 


96 


TIIK    PRKI'ARATION   FOR    TIIK    (iOSPEL. 


BOOK      respectively,  the  Nasi  (president),  and  Ab-beth-din  (vice-president,  of 
I  the  Satihedrin).     Of  the  first  three  of  these  'couples'  it  may  be  said 

^— ^.^ — "  that,  except  significant  allusions  to  the  circumstances  and  dangers  of 
their  times,  their  recorded  utterances  clearly  point  to  the  development 
of  the  purely  Sopheric  teaching,  that  is,  to  the  Rabbinistic  part  of 
their  functions.  Fr(nn  the  fourth  'couple,'  which  consists  of  Simon 
ben  Shetach,  who  figured  so  largely  in  the  political  history  of  the 
later  Maccabees'  (as  Ab-beth-din),  and  his  superior  in  learning  and 
judgment,  Jehudah  bcu  Tabbai  (as  Nasi),  we  have  again  utterances 
which  show,  in  harmony  with  the  political  history  of  the  time,  that 
judicial  functions  had  been  once  more  restored  to  the  Rabbis.  The 
last  of  the  five  couples  brings  us  to  the  time  of  Herod  and  of  Christ. 
We  have  seen  that,  during  the  period  of  severe  domestic  troubles, 
beginning  with  the  persecutions  under  the  Seleucidse,  which  marked 
the  mortal  struggle  between  Judaism  and  Grecianism,  the  'Great 
Assembly'  had  disappeared  from  the  scene.  The  SopJierim  had  ceased 
to  be  a  party  in  power.  They  had  become  the  Zeqenim, '  Elders, '  whose 
task  was  purely  ecclesiastical  —  tlie  preservation  of  their  religion, 
such  as  the  dogmatic  labours  of  their  predecessors  had  made  it.  Yet 
another  period  opened  with  the  advent  of  the  Maccabees.  These  had 
been  raised  into  power  by  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Ghasidim,  or  '  pious 
ones,'  who  formed  the  nationalist  party  in  the  land,  and  who  had 
gathered  around  the  liberators  of  their  faith  and  country.  But  the 
later  bearing  of  the  Maccabees  had  alienated  the  nationalists.  Hence- 
forth they  sink  out  of  view,  or,  rather,  the  extreme  section  of  them 
merged  in  the  extreme  section  of  the  Pharisees,  till  fresh  national 
calamities  awakened  a  new  nationalist  party.  Instead  of  the  Ghasidim, 
we  see  now  two  religious  parties  within  the  Synagogue  —  the  Phari- 
sees and  the  Sadducees.  The  latter  originally  represented  a  reaction 
from  the  Pharisees  —  the  moderate  men,  who  sympathised  with  the 
later  tendencies  of  the  Maccabees.  Josephus  places  the  origin  of 
these  two  schools  in  the  time  of  Jonathan,  the  successor  of  Judas 

i6a-i43B.c.  Maccabee,"  and  with  this  other  Jewish  notices  agree.  Jonathan 
accepted  from  the  foreigner  (the  Syrian)  the  High-Priestly  dignity, 
and  combined  with  it  that  of  secular  ruler.  But  this  is  not  alL 
The  earlier  Maccabees  surrounded  themselves  with  a  governing 
eldershi))."  ^  On  the  coins  of  their  reigns  this  is  designated  as  the 
Ghebher,  or  eldership  (association)  of  the  Jews.   Thus,  theirs  was  what 


>>    The    Te- 

povaia, 

1  Maco.  xii. 
6:  xin.  36; 
xiv.  28 :  Jna. 
Ant.  xul.  i. 

9;  5.  8 


'  See  Apiieiiflix  IV. :  '  Political  History 
of  the  .Jews  from  the  Reign  of  Alexander 
to  the  Accession  of  Ilerod.' 


^  At  the  same  time  some  kind  of  ruling 
AepoDo-ia  existed  earlier  than  at  this  pe- 
iii>d,  if  we  ma.v  judge  from  Jos.Aut.  xii. 


RISE   OF   THE   SANIIEDUIN.  97 

Jose]ihiis  designates  as  an  aristocratic  government,"  and  of  which  he  CHAP. 

soniewiiat  vagnely  says,  that  it  histed   '  from  the  Captivity  nntil  the  vni 

descen(Uuits  of  the  Asmoneans  set  up  kingly  government."     In  this  ^— ^. — -' 

aristocratic  government  the  lligh-Priest  would  ratlier  be  thechiel'of  j^^"^-  ^^■*- 
a  representative  ecclesiastical  body  of  rulers.     'IMiis  state  of  things 
continued  until  the  great  breach  between  llyrcanus,  tlu'  iburth  Irom 
Judas  Maccabee,  and  the  Tharisaical  ijarty,'  which  is  equally  recorded 

by  .losephus  "  and  the  Talmud,*^  with  only  vai-iations  of  names  and  bAnt.  xiu. 

details.     The  dispute  apparently  arose  from  the  desire  of  the  Phari-  ,.^l^^^  ,.,,;„ 
sees,  that  Hyrcanus  should  be  content  with  the  secular  power,   and 
resign  the  Pontiticate.     lint  it  ended  in  thei)ersecution,  and  removal 
from  power,  of  the  Pharisees.     Very  signiticantly,  Jewish  tradition 
introduces  again  at  this  time  those  j)urely  ecclesiastical  authorities 

which  are  designated  as  'the  couples.'*'     In  accordance  with  this,  '.ler.Maas. 

altered  state  of  things,  the  name  '  Chebher  '  now  disappears  from  the  end,  p.  56//: 

coins  of  the  Maccabees,  and  the  Rabbinical  celebrities  ('the  couples"  i>.  2V(( 
or  Zugoth)  are  only  teachers  of  traditionalism,    and  ecclesiastical 

authorities.     The   ■  eldershij),' '  which  under  the  earlier  Maccabees  'vfpoi«7?ia 

was  called  •  the  tribunal  of  the  Asmoneans,''^  now  passed  into  the  ri*^^ 

Sanht'drin.''"     Thus  avc  place  the  origin  of  this  institution  about  the  ^nn 

time  of  Hyrcanus.     ^^'ith  this  Jewish  tradition  tully  agrees.^     The  ganhsoa'^ 

power  of  the  Sanhedrin  would,  of  course,  vary  with  political  circum-  a^.  z.  36'/ 

stances,  being  at  times  almost  absolute,  as  in  the  reign  of  the  Pharisaic  '^<^'""^^""' 

devotee-Queen,  Alexandra,  while  at  others  it  Avas  shorn  of  all  bnt  |j/J^e^T 

ecclesiastical  authoritv.     But  as  the  Sanhedrin  was  in  full  force  at  the  ^^^^"^  "'^^^ 

'  -yepoucrta, 

time  of  Jesus,  its  organisation  will  claim  our  attention  in  the  sequel,    and  twice 
After  this  brief  outline  of  the  origin  and  development  of  an  insti-  "f^^l^"" 
tution  which  exerted  such  decisive  influence  on  the  future  of  Israel,  it  ^^^.^,.. 

'  xxii.  ()6: 

seems  necessary  similarly  to  trace  the  growth  of  the  '  traditions  of  the  ^^^^  ^^"'  ^ 
Eldei's,'  so  as  to  understand  what,  alas  !  soefi'ectually,  opi)osedthe  new 
<loctrine  of  the  Kingdom.  The  tirst  place  must  here  be  assigned  to 
those  legal  determinations,  which  traditionalism  declared  al)Solutely 
binding  on  all — not  only  of  equal,  but  even  gi'eater  obligation  than 
Scrijiture  itself.''     And  this  not  illogically,  sinct' ti'adition  was  etjually 

Tint  he  uses  tli(>  term  somewhat  vuiiuely.  io  me.  historically,  impossible.     Hut  iiis 

applyin.i;'  it  even  to  the  time  of  Jaddua  opinion  to  that  effect  (u.  s.  ];.  S7)  is  ap- 

(Ant.  xi.  8.  2).  pavently  contradicted  at  p.  !K?. 

1  Even  Ber.  48  a  fiuniishes  evidence  of  '^  Sc/iUn'i;  follo\vin,ii' 11  V^wVc/-.  supposes 

this   'enmity.'     On  the  hostile  relations  the  Sanhedrin   to  have  Ijeen  of  Honiaii 

l)etvveen  the   Pharisaical  i)arty  and  the  institution.      But     tlie     ariiuments     of 

^[accabees  see    Iliimburger,    Real-Enc.  Wlcselcr  on  this  point  (Beitr.  zur  richt. 

ii.  ]).  ?>{\1.     Com]).  Jer.  Taan.  iv.  5.  Wiird.  d.   Evani;:.   p.   224 1   are  incoiiciu- 

-'  f)ere)ihnitrg  takes  a  different  view,  give, 

and   identities   the   tril)unal   of  the  As-  *  Conij).  Dcrenho}! r<i.  \\.  s.  ji.  !)."). 

moneans  with,  the  Sanhedi'in.    This  seems  =  Tims  we  read:     •  Tlie  saviniis  of  tiie 


98  Tin-:  i'i;i:i'AiiATi()X  foi;  tiik  cosi'KL. 

BOOK      of  Divine  uiiiiiii  with  Holy  Seriptiii'c,  and  .uitlioritativoly  explained 
1  its    nieanin>i- :    supplcMiKMitod  it  :    ,u'ave    it  ap])]i('ation  to    cases   not 

^-*^r~"*^  expressly  provided  for.  perliai)s  not  even  foreseen  in  Bihlieal  times  ; 
and  generally  gniai-ded  its  sanctity  by  extending  and  adding  to  its 
j)rovisions,  drawing  '  a  hedge,"  aronnd  its  'garden  enclosed.'  Thus,  in 
new  and  dangerous  circumstances,  would  the  full  meaning  of  God's 
Law,  to  its  every  tittle  and  iota,  l)c  elicited  and  obeyed.  Thus  also 
would  their  feet  be  arrested,  who  might  sti'ay  from  within,  or  break 
in  from  without.  Accordingly,  so  important  was  tradition,  that  the 
greatest  merit  a  Rabbi  could  claim  was  the  strictest  adherence  to  tlie 
traditions,  which  he  had  received  from  his  teacher.  Nor  might  one 
Sanhedrin  annul,  or  set  aside,  the  decrees  of  its  predecessors.  To 
such  length  did  they  go  in  this  worship  of  the  letter,  tlmt  the  great 
Hillel  was  actually  wont  to  mispronounce  a  word,  because  his  teacher 

"Eduy. i. 3.   bcforc  lilm  had  done  so.' 

(viiiimentof         Tliesc  traditional  ordinances,  as  already  stated,  bear  the  general 

iues  '  nanu.'  of  the  Halakhah.  as  indicating  alike  the  way  in  which  tin? 
fathers  had  walked,  and  that  which  their  children  were  bound  to 
follow.'  TheiiQ  ffalahi/otJi  were  either  simply  the  laws  laid  down  in 
Scri|)tuie:  or  else  derived  from,  (u*  traced  to  it  by  some  ingenious  and 
artificial  method  of  exegesis  :  or  added  to  it,  by  way  of  amplification 
and  for  safety's  sake;  or,  finally,  legalised  customs.  They  ])rovided 
for  every  [)ossible  and  inipossible  case,  entered  into  every  detail  of 
private,  fainih^,  and  public  life  ;  and  with  iron  logic,  unbending  rigour, 
and  most  minute  analysis  pursued  and  dominated  man,  turn  whithei- 
lie  might,  laying  on  him  a  yoke  which  was  truly  inibearable.  'I'he; 
return  which  it  offered  was  the  ideasure  and  distinction  of  knowledge, 
the  acquisition  of  righteousness,  and  the  final  attainment  of  rewards  ; 
one  of  its  chief  advantages  over  our  modern  traditionalism,  that  it 

'  was  expressly  forbidden  to  draw  inferences  from  these  traditions,  which 

should  have  the  force  of  fresh  legal  determinations.- 

In  describing  the  historical  growth  of  the  HaJah'/iah,"'  we  nmy 

elders  liavc  more  wei^'lit  tliaii  tlioso  of  law — in  tlio  Rabbinic  seiifie — was  worso 
the  proijliets  ■  (Jcr.  Ber.  i.  7);  'an  otience  than  adolatry.  luiflcanness.  oi'  tlic  siied- 
ai^ainst  the  sayhi^s  of  the  Scribes  is  dina;  of  blood.  See  i;eneral]y  that  Intro- 
worse  than  one  ajiiainst  tliose  of  Scripture '  duction. 

(Sanh.  xi.  3).     Compare  also  Er.  21   />.  '  It  is  so  explained  in  the  Aruch  (ed. 

Tile  comparison  between  such  claims  and  Jjindan.  vol.  ii.  i).  529,  col  h). 

tlu)se   sometimes   set   up   on   belialf   of  -  Com]).  Tlamburger.  \\.  s.  p.  ?,\?,. 

'creeds'  and  'articles' (Z^(Y/o'.v  Cyclop.,  ■'•  Comj).  here  especially  the   detailed 

2nd  ed.,   p.   786,  col  (()  does  not   seem  descri|)tion   by  llprzfdd  (u.   s.  vol.   iii. 

to  me  a])i)]ica1)Ie.     In  the  introduclion  j))).  22(),  2()3);    also  the  Introduction  of 

to  tlie   Midr.   on   Lament,  it  is  inlcrrcd  Maiinonides,    and    the    very    able    ami 

from  .ler.  ix.  12,  1:5,  that  to  forsai<e  tlie  learned   works   (not    sutticiently   appre- 


TUB  iiist()1.m(;ai.  (jkowtii  of  ti;at)itiox.mjsm.  99 

dismiss  in  a  lew  sentcuccs  the  le/i'euds  of  .Icwisli  tradition  about  riiAl'. 
|)ati'iai'<*hal  limes.  They  assure  us,  tliat  there  was  an  Academy  and  ^'I^' 
a  lval)l)inie  tril)unal  of  Shem.  and  they  si)eak  of  tradit  ions  delivercMl  ^— ^.^— ^ 
i»y  that  Tatriareh  to  Jaeoh;  ot  diligent  atteu(hince  by  the  hitlei'  on 
tlic  Kabbinie  College;  of  a  tractate  (in  400  seetions)  on  i(h)hitr3  by 
Abraliam,  and  of  his  observance  of  the  wlioh^  traditional  law:  of  tlio 
introduction  of  the  three  daily  times  of  ])rayei',  successively  by 
Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob;  of  thetliree  benedictions  in  the  custom- 
ary 'grace  at  meat,"  as  ijroponnded  by  Moses,  Joshua,  and  I)a\i(l 
and  Solomon:  of  the  Mosaic  introduction  of  the  practice  of  reading 
lessons  from  the  laAv  on  Sabbaths,  New  Moons,  and  Feast  Days,  and 
even  on  tlie  Mondays  and  Thursdays  ;  and  of  that,  by  the  same 
authority,  of  preaching  on  the  three  great  festivals  about  those  feasts. 
Further, they  ascribe  to  Moses  the  arrangement  of  the  priesthood  into 
eight  courses  (that  into  sixteen  to  Samuel,  and  that  into  twenty-four  to 
David),  as  also,  the  duration  of  the  time  for  marriage  festivities,  and 
for  mourning.  But  evidently  these  are  vague  statements,  with  the 
object  of  tracing  traditionalism  and  its  observances  to  primaeval  times, 
even  as  legend  had  it,  that  Adam  was  born  circumcised,'  and  latci-  ^Micu-. 

11111  111  T  Shochar 

writers  that  he  had  kept  all  the  ordinances.  xobhonPs. 

Hut  other  i)rinciples  apply  to  the  traditions,  from  Moses  down-  warshaii. 

T  1  T         •    1  •  /-<      T     1       1        •  -tr  p.  14  6 ;  Ab. 

wards.     According  to  the  Jewish  view,  God  had  given  Moses  on  deK.  Nath. 

.  2 

Mount  Smai  alike  the  oral  and  the  written  Law,  that  is,  the  Law 
with  all  its  interpretations  and  applications.  From  Ex.  xx.  1,  it  was 
inferred,  that  God  ha<l  communicated  to  Moses  the  Bible,  the  Mishnah, 
and  Talmud,  and  the  Haggadah,  even  to  thatwiiich  scholars  would  in 
latest  times  propound.'  In  answer  to  the  somcMdiat  natural  objection, 
why  the  Bible  alone  had  been  written,  it  was  said  that  Moses  had  pro- 
posed to  write  down  aUAlw  teaching  entrusted  to  him, but  the  Almighty 
had  refused,  on  account  of  the  future  subjection  of  Israel  to  the  nations, 
who  would  take  from  them  the  written  Law.  Then  the  unwritten  tradi- 
tions would  remain  to  se])ara te  between  Israel  and  the  Gentiles,  Popula  r 
exegesis  found  this  indicated  even  in  the  language  of  prophecy.''  'hos.  vm. 

12:  comp. 

ciiited)  t)y  Or.   //.    S.    llirscltfcl'l.  Ilalii-  written.' tlie  ri'djdicts  ami  ll;iiii(ii:rapli:u 

chische     Exe.u'ese    (Berlin.     is40),     and  -that  thou  niayesf  tcacli  them;"  the  Tal- 

}Iafi"adi.sc'lie  Exeii'ese  (Berlin,  lS-17).   Per-  mud — ■  whicii  shows  that   they  were   all 

haps   I   may  also  take   leave  to  refer  to  uiveii  to  Mo.-^es  on  Sinai"  (Ber.  o  <i.  line.s 

the  corresitoiidinii' chapters  In  my  'His-  ll-KV).     Alike  application  was  made  of 

tory  of  the  .Jewish  Nation.'  the  various  clauses  in  Cant.  vii.  12  (Erub. 

'  Similarly,    the  expressions    in    Ex.  21//).  Nay,  by  an  alteration  of  the  words 

xxiv.   12  were  thus  exiilained:  'the  ta-  in  IIos.   \\\\.  10,  it  was   shown  that  the 

bles  of  stone,'  the  ten  commandments;  banished  had  been  brouffht  back  for  the 

the  'l-aw,'    the   written   Law;  the  'coin-  merit   of  their   study    [of  the  sacrilicial 

mandments.' the  Mishnah  :  ■  which  T  have  sections]  of   the  Mishnah  (Vayyik  B.  7). 


Shem.  B.  46 


lUO 


Tin-:  i'i,'ki'ai;at[()N  fok  tiik  gospel. 


B()(»K 

I 


Jei'.  cihai;. 
I.  7(i  <l 


'  Tos. 
Shabb.  xiv. 


Enib.  51'- 


Deut.  i.  5 


But  traditiunaiisiii  wont  lurther,  and  placed  the  oral  actually 
above  the  written  Law.  The  expression,"  '  After  the  tenor  of  these 
Avords  I  have  made  a  covenant  with  thee  and  with  Israel,'  was 
ex])lained  as  meaning;,  that  God's  covenant  was  founded  on  the  spoken, 
in  oi)position  to  the  written  words.''  If  the  written  was  thus  placed 
below  the  oral  Law,  we  can  scarcely  wonder  that  the  reading  of  the 
Ilagiographa  was  actually  prohibited  to  the  people  on  the  Sabbath, 
from  fear  that  it  might  divert  attention  from  the  learned  discourses  of 
the  Rabbis.  The  study  of  them  on  that  day  was  only  allowed  for  the 
l)urpose  of  learned  investigation  and  discussions."' 

But  if  traditionalism  was  not  to  be  committed  to  writing  by 
Moses,  measures  had  been  taken  to  prevent  oblivion  or  inaccuracy. 
Moses  had  always  repeated  a  traditional  law  successively  to  Aaron, to 
his  sons,  and  to  the  elders  of  the  i)eople,  and  they  again  in  turn  to 
each  other,  in  such  wise,  that  Aaron  heard  the  Mishnah  four  times, his 
sons  tlu-ee  times,  the  Elders  twice,  and  the  people  once.  But  even 
this  was  not  all,  for  by  successive  repetitions  (of  Aaron, his  sons, and 
the  Elders)  the  people  also  heard  it  four  times.''  And,  before  his 
death,  Moses  had  sununoned  any  one  to  come  forward,  if  he  had 
forgotten  aught  of  what  he  had  heard  and  learned."  But  these 
'  Halakhoth  of  Moses  from  Sinai '  do  not  make  up  the  whole  of 
traditionalism.  According  to  Maimonides,  it  consists  of  five,  but 
more  critically  of  three  classes.^  The  ./?>-.sY  of  these  comprises  both 
such  ordinances  as  are  found  in  the  Bil)le  itself,  and  the  so-called 
Halokhotli  of  3Ioses  from  Sinai — that  is,  such  laws  and  usages  as 
prevailed  from  time  immemorial,  and  which,  according  to  the  Jewish 
view,  had  ))een  orally  delivered  to,  but  not  written  down  by  Moses. 
For  these,  therefore,  no  [yroof  was  to  he  sour/Jit  in  Scripture — at  most 
support,  or  confirmatory  allusion  {Asmakhtii).^  Nor  were  these 
open  to  discussion.  The  second  class  formed  the  'oral  law, ''or  the 
'traditional  teaching'''  in  the  stricter  sense.  To  this  class  belonged 
all  that  was  supposed  to  be  implied  in,  or  that  could  be  deduced  from, 
the  Law  of  Moses.*     The  latter  contained,  indeed,  in  substance  or 


'  Another  ivasoii  also  is.  liowever.  ineii- 
tioned  for  his  i)roliibitlon. 

-  Hirschfeld.  w.  s.  \)\).  !)2-9!). 

^  From  "i^D.  to  lean  aa;ainst.  At  the 
same  time  tlie  ordinances,  for  which  an 
apijeal  conld  be  made  to  As))iak/ifa.  were 
better  liUed  than  those  which  rested  on 
tradition  alone  (Jer.  Chap;.  ]).  "(i,  col  r/). 

*  In  connection  with  this  it  is  very 
sii>nilicant  that  R.  Jochanan  ben  Zaccai, 


wlio  tauiiht  not  many  years  after  the 
Crucifixion  of  Christ,  was  wont  to  say. 
that,  in  the  future,  Halakhahs  in  reii'ard 
to  i)urity,  which  had  not  the  sui)port  of 
Scripture,  would  be  repeated  (Sot.  27  6, 
line  l(i  from  tojV).  In  .ii'eneral,  the  teach- 
ing of  R.  .Jochanan  should  be  studied  to 
understand  the  unacknowledged  influ- 
ence which  Christianity  exercised  u|)on 
the  Synagogue. 


TILVDITIONS    OI'KN    T(J    DISCISSION    UK    IM:M()\'AL. 


101 


<i,"enii,  everythiiiii';  l)ut  it  had  not  been  l)r()U.ii'ht  out,  till  circiiiustunces 
succcsstully  evolved  what  from  the  lirst  had  been  provided  in  prinei- 
])le.  For  this  class  of  ordi nances  reference  to,  a nd  iirooffroni.  Scrijil  nrc 
ivns  required.  Xot  so  for  the  third  class  of  ordinances,  which  were 
'the  hediie'  drawn  by  the  Rabbis  around  the  Law,  to  i)revent  any 
breach  of  the  Law  or  customs,  to  ensui'e  their  exact  o))servance.  oi'  to 
meet  peculiar  circumstances  and  dang'crs.  These  ordinances  consti- 
tuted 'the  saying-s  of  the  Scribes'-'  or  'of  the  Rabbis"''' — and  wei-e 
Q\t\wv positive  in  their  character  ( 7eq(janoth),i)V  v\^(:s  negative  {(lezeroih 
from  (jazar  to  cut  off').  Perhaps  the  distinction  of  these  two 
cannot  always  be  strictly  carried  out.  But  it  was  ])robably  to  this 
third  class  especially,  confessedly  unsui)ported  by  Scripture,  that 
these  words  of  Christ  referred:'^  'All  therefore  whatsoever  they 
tell  you,  that  do  and  observe;  but  do  not  ye  after  their  works:  for 
they  say,  and  do  not.  For  they  l)ind  heavy  burdens  and  grievous  to 
l)e  Ijorne.  and  lay  them  on  men's  shoulders:  but  with  their  tinker 
they  will  not  move  them  away  (set  in  motion).'-  This  view  has  two- 
fold contirnmtion.  For.  this  third  class  of  Halakhic  ordinances  was 
the  only  one  open  to  the  discussion  of  the  learned,  the  ultimate  de- 
cision being  according  to  the  majority.  Yet  it  possessed  jjractically 
(though  not  theoretically)  the  same  authority  as  the  other  two  classes. 
In  further  confirnmtion  of  our  view  the  following  may  be  (pioted:  'A 
(rezerah  {i.e.  this  third  class  of  ordinances)  is  not  to  be  laid'  on  the 
congregation,  uidess  the  majority  of  the  congregation  is  able  to  bear 
if' — words  which  read  like  a  commentary  on  those  of  Jesus,  and 
show  that  these  burdens  could  be  laid  on,  or  moved  away,  according 
to  the  varying  judgment  or  severity  of  a  Rab])inic  College.^ 

This  l)ody  of  traditional  ordinances  forms  the  subject  of  the  3£i.'<h- 
rtah,  or  second,  repeated  law.     We  have  here  to  [)lace  on  one  side  the 


cnAi'. 


'■  St.  Matt, 
xxiil.  3,  4 


'  But  this  is  not  always. 

■^  To  elucidate  the  meaniiiii;  of  Clirist.  it 
seemed  necessary  to  submit  an  avowedly 
difficult  text  to  fresh  criticism.  I  have 
taken  the  word  kiveIv.  moreo  in  the 
i^eui^eolircfticio {Grimm.  ClavisN.T.  ed. 
2'i^  J).  2-li  fi).  hut  I  have  not  adoi)ted 
tlie  inference  of  Met/cr  (Krit.  Exeiret. 
Handl).  ]).  45.5).  In  classical  Gi'eek  also 
KivFAv  is  used  for  -to  remove,  to  alter.' 
My  reasons  against  what  may  be  called 
the  traditional  interpretation  of  St.  Matt, 
xxiii.  'A.  4,  are:  1.  It  seems  scarcely  pos- 
sible to  suppose  that,  before  such  an  au- 
dience, Christ  would  have  contemplated 
the  i)ossibility  of  not  observhiii'  either  of 


the  two  first  classes  of  Ualukhoth.  which 
were  re<i;arded  as  beyond  controversy. 
2.  It  could  scarcely  be  truthfully  charijed 
against  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  that 
they  did  not  attemj)!  to  keep  themselves 
the  ordinances  which  they  imjjosed  upon 
others.  The  expression  in  the  i)arailel 
passage  (St.  Luke  xi.  4r))  must  be  ex- 
plained in  accordance  with  the  com- 
mentation on  St.  Matt,  xxiii.  4.  Nor  is 
there  any  serious  difficulty  aljout  it. 

■'  For  the  classitication.  arrangement, 
origin,  and  enunu'ration  of  tiiese  Mal- 
akhoth.  see  .\i)pendix  V.:  •  IJahbinic 
Theology  and  literature." 


A.D. 


i,)-2  THE    I'RHrAliATION    FOK    TIIK    (JOSI'EL. 

i',( )( )K      Law  ot'Moses  as  recorded  in  the  Peiitaleueh,  as  staiidiiiii-  by  itself.     All 
I  else — even  the  teaching  of  the  Prophets  and  of  the  llagiographa,  as 

^— ^r^"^  well  as  tlie  oral  traditions — bore  the  general  name  ot'(Jabbalah — •  that 
whicli  has  been  i-eceivcd.'  The  sacred  study — or  Mldrasli,  in  the 
original  ai)i)li('ation  of  tiie  term — concerned  eitliei'  the  H(i/al'/i(i/i,  tra- 
ditional ordiiudice,  which  was  always  -that  wiucli  had  been  heard'- 
{Sheiiidtha),  or  else  thQ  HaggadaJt,  'that  which  was  said"  upon  the 
authority  of  individuals,  not  as  legal  ordinance.  It  was  illustration, 
connnentary,  anecdote,  clever  or  learned  saying,  Jkc.  At  first  the 
Halakhah  renuiined  unwritten,  probably  owing  to  tlie  disputes  be- 
tween Pharisees  and  Sadducees.  But  the  necessity  of  tixedness  and 
order  led  in  course  of  time  to  more  or  less  complete  collections  of  the 
HalaA-hofJt.^     The  oldest  of  these  is  ascribed  to  R.  Akiba,  in  the  time 

» 132-135  of  the  Emperor  Hadrian.'-  But  the  authoritative  collection  in  the  so- 
called  Mishnah  is  the  work  ()f  Jehudah  the  Holy,  who  died  about  the 
end  of  the  second  century  of  our  era. 

Altogether,  the  Mishnah  comprises  six  'Orders"  {JSedariin),  each 
devoted  to  a  special  class  of  subjects.^  These  'Orders'  are  divided 
into  tractates  {Massi'khtoth,  Massel-htiijoth,  'textures,  webs"),  of  which 
there  are  sixty-three  ( or  else  sixty-two )  in  all.  These  tractates  are  again 
subdivided  into  chapters  (Peraqim) — in  all  525,  which  severally  consist 
of  a  certain  number  of  verses,  or  JlisItnaJis  {JlisJinayotJi,  in  all  4, 187). 
Considering  the  variety  and  complexity  of  the  subjects  treated,  the 
Mishnah   is   arranged   with    remarkable   logical   perspicuity.      The 

'  See   the   learned   remarks   of    Li^i'i/  Nasirate.     The  fourth  '  Order  "  (A>2#V/?/^ 

about  the  reasons  for  the  earlier  prohibi-  'damages')     contains     the     civil     and 

tion  of  writing  down  the  oral  law,  and  criminal  law.     Ciiaracteristically,   it  in- 

the    tinal    collection    of    the     Mishnah  eludes   all  the    ordinances    concerning 

(Neuhebr.   u.   Chald.  Worterb.  vol.  ii.  p.  idol-worship    (in    the   tractate  Ahhodah 

435).  Zarah)  and  'the  sayings  of  the  Fathers' 

'^  These  collections  are  enumerated  in  {AJihotli).     The  fifth  •Owhn-'  {Qrxhixlnm. 

the  Midrash  on  Eccles.  xii.  3.     They  are  -holy  things')   treats     of    the     various 

also  distinguished  as   'the   former' and  classes  of  sacrifices,  ofl'erings.  and  tilings 

'the  later"  Mishnah  (Xedar.  91  a).  belonging  (as  the  tirst-borii).  or  dedicated, 

■^  The  first  '  Order '  (Zerr^^7/^,  'seeds')  to  God,  and  of  all  questions  which  can  be 
begins  with  the  ordinances  concern-  groujied  under  '  sacred  things  '  (snch  as 
ing  'benedictions,'  or  the  time,  mode,  the  redemption,  exchange,  or  alienation 
manner,  and  character  of  the  prayers  of  what  liad  been  dedicated  to  God).  It 
prescribed.  It  then  goes  on  to  detail  also  includes  the  laws  concerning  the 
what  may  be  called  tlie  religio-agrarian  daily  morning  and  evening  service 
laws  (such  as  tithing.  Sabbatical  years,  ( TnmiiT).  and  a  description  of  the  struc- 
first  fruits,  itc).  The  second  'Order'  ture  and  arrangements  of  the  T(miii)I(> 
(Moed,  'festive  time')  discusses  all  con-  {Middolh,  'the  measurements').  Finally, 
nected  with  the  Sabbath  observance  and  the  sixth  'Order'  (Toharofh,  'clean- 
the  other  festivals.  The  third  '  Order '  nesses ')  gives  every  ordinance  connected 
{NasJum,  'women')  treats  of  all  that  with  the  questions  of  'clean  and  un- 
concerns betrothal,  marriage  and  divorce,  clean,' alike  as  regards  human  beings, 
but   also     includes    a    tractate   on    the  animals,  and  inanimate  tilings.- 


TilK    .MlSIIXAJl,   Till-:    JKKISAI.K.M    AM)    T1!H    JJAini.oN    TAL.Ml'D.  103 

laii<i'uage  is  Hebrew,  tliouji'h  (.)fe()iii'se  not  that  oftlic  Old  Te>tanieiit.      <"HAP. 
The  A»'()i'(ls  I'eiidei'ed  iieeessaiy  hy  the  new  circuinstanccs    ai'c    ehietiv        ^  '" 
derived  t'roni  tlie  (Jrcck,  the  S^yriae,  and  the  Latin,  witli  Hebrew  trr-   ^— ^  ^^-^ 
niinations.'      Hnt  all  conneetedwitli  social  intereoiusc  or  ordinary  lite 
(such  as  contracts),  is  written,  not  in  Hebrew,  lait   in   Arainiean,    as 
the  laniiiniiic  of  the  people. 

l^)Ul  the  traditional  law  enibodie(l  othei"  nnderials  than  the 
Hahikhotli  collected  in  the  ^lishnah.  Sonu'  that  had  not  been 
recordeil  there,  tbnnd  a  phice  in  the  works  of  certain  Kabbis,  or  were 
derived  from  their  schools.  These  are  called  BovaitJias — that  is.  tra- 
ditions v.rfcnial  to  the  Mishiudi.  finally,  there  were  •  additions"  (or 
Tosephtoth)^  dating  after  the  completion  of  the  Mishnah.  but  probably 
not  later  than  the  third  centur^^  of  our  era.  Such  thei'e  are  to  not 
fewer  than  tifty^-two  out  of  the  sixty-three  Mishnic  tractates.  When 
spcakina:  of  the  ffalakltaJt  as  distinguished  froni  the  Ha/jgadali,  we 
iniT^t  not,  however,  suppose  that  the  latter  could  1)e  entirely  separated 
from  it.  In  point  of  fact,  one  whole  tractate  in  the  J//-s7(f;i«/i  (Aboth: 
The  Sayings  of  the  '  Fathers  )  is  QwiiveX}  Hagrjadnh;  a  second  {Middoth: 
the  '  Measurements  of  the  Temple')  has  Halalxhuh  in  only  fourteen 
places;  while  in  the  rest  of  the  tractates  Haggadali  occurs  in  not 
fewer  than  207  places.  -  Onl}^  thirteen  out  of  the  sixty-three  tractates 
of  the  Mishnali  are  entirely  free  from  Hagrjadah. 

Hitherto  we  have  only  spoken  of  the  ]Mishnah.  IJut  this  coni- 
l)rises  only  a  very  snudl  part  of  traditionalism.  In  course  of  time  the 
discussions,  illiistrations,  explanations,  and  additions  to  Avhicli  the 
Mishnah  gave  rise,  whether  in  its  application,  or  in  the  Academies  of 
the  Rabbis,  were  authoritatively  collected  and  edited  in  what  are 
known  as  the  two  Talmvds  or  Oemaras.  ^  H' we  imagine  something 
combining  law  reports,  a  Rabbinical  '  Hansard,'  and  notes  of  a  theo- 
logical debating  club — all  thoroughly  Oriental,  full  of  digressions, 
anecdotes,  quaint  sayings,  fancies,  legends,  and  too  often  of  what, 
from  its  profanity,  superstition,  and  even  obscenity,  could  scarcely  be 
(juoted,  we  may  form  some  general  idea  of  what  the  Talmud  is.  The 
oldest  of  these  two  Talmuds  dates  from  alxmt  the  close  of  the  fourth 
century  of  our  era.  It  is  the  product  of  the  Palestinian  Acadennes, 
and  hence  called  the  Jerusalem  Talmud.  The  second  is  about  a  century 
younger,  and  the  outcome  of  the  Rabylonian  schools,  hence  called  the 

'  Comp.  the  very  interer!thv2;  tractate  '-'  Coiiij).  tbe  ("iminorutioii  in   Phnicr, 

by  Dr.  Bi'ilN  (Freiiid^pr  Kodeiisart  in  d.  u.  s. 

Taliimd),  as  well  as  Dr.  Eish'r'n  Beitniii'e  ■'   Tabniid:  tlraf  wiiicli  is  learned,  doc- 

z.  Raid),  u.  Aitertliiuiisk.,  .1  fascic:  Sac/is.  trine,     (rnnitvfi:  eitlier  tlie  same,  orel.se 

Beitr.  z.  Kabl).  u.  Alterthnnisk.  '  l)erfpcfi()n."  ■completion.' 


0-t  THE    PREPAKATION   FOR   THE   GOSPEL. 

JiooK      lUibijlon  (afterwai'ds  also  'our')  Talmud.     We  do  not  possess  either 
1  of  these  works  complete.  ^     The  luost  detective  is  the  Jerusalem  Tal- 

— '^. umd,  which  is  also  much  briefei",  and  contains  far  fewer  discussions 

than  that  of  Bal)ylon.  The  Babylon  Talmud,  Avhicli  in  its  present 
form  extends  over  thirty-six  out  of  the  sixty-three  tractates  of  the 
Mishnah,  is  al)out  ten  or  eleven  times  the  size  of  the  hitter,  and  more 
than  four  times  that  of  the  Jerusalem  Talnmd.  It  occupies  (in  our 
editions),  with  marginal  commentations,  2,94*7  folio  leaves  (pagesaand 
b).  Both  Talmuds  are  written  in  Aramaean;  the  one  in  its  western, 
the  other  in  its  eastern  dialect,  and  in  both  the  Mishnah  is  discussed 
seriatim^  and  clause  by  clause.  Of  the  character  of  these  discussions  it 
would  be  impossible  to  convey  an  adequate  idea .  When  we  bear  in  mind 
the  many  sparkling,  beautiful,  and  occasionally  almost  sublime  passages 
in  the  Talmud,  but  especially  that  its  forms  of  thought  and  expression 
so  often  recall  those  of  the  New  Testament,  only  ])rejudice  and  hatred 
could  indulge  in  indiscriminate  vituperation.  On  the  other  hand,  it 
seems  unaccountable  how  any  one  who  has  read  a  Talmudic  tractate, 
or  even  part  of  one,  could  compare  the  Talnmd  Avith  the  New  Testa- 
ment, or  find  in  the  one  the  origin  of  the  other. 

To  complete  our  brief  survey,  it  should  be  added  that  our  editions 
of  the  Babylon  Talmud  contain  (at  the  close  of  vol.  ix.  and  after  the 
fourth  'Order')  certain  Boraithas.  Of  these  there  were  originally 
nine,  but  two  of  the  smaller  tractates  (on  '  the  memorial  fringes, '  and 
on  -non-Israelites")  have  not  been  preserved.  The  first  of  these 
Boraithas  is  entitled  Abhoth  de  Rabbi  Xatlian,  and  partially  corre- 
sponds with  a  tractate  of  a  similar  name  in  tlie  Mishnah.  -     Next 

1  The  following:  will  explain  our  mean-  kliotli  were  collected  in  a  work  fdatinj? 

hig:  On  tiie  ./fr.sV  'order'  we  iiave  the  from  alxmt  800  a. d.)  entitled  Ha/ak/iof/i 

Jei'usalem  Talmud  complete,  tliat  is,  on  Gedolotli.     They  are  arranu'ed  to  corre- 

every  tractate  (comprisinn-  in  all  (1.3  folio  s])ond  witli  the  weekly  lectionary  of  tiie 

leaves),  while  the  JJabylon  Talmud  ex-  Pentateuch  in  a  work  entitled  Sheeltofh 

teud.s  only  over  its  first  tractate  (Berak-  (-Questions:  "best  ed./>vAc/-/(/V//V/;, 1786). 

]iofh).     (in  the  .sf^co«(?  order,  the  four  last  The  Jerusalem  Talmiul  extends  over  31), 

chapters  of  one  tractate  (Shahhath)  are  the  Babyhmian  over  3()J  tractates — 15i 

wanting-  in  the  Jerusalem,  and  one  whole  tractates  have  no  Gemara  at  all. 

tractate  |.S7^er/«?;?«)  in  the  Babi/Joi)  Tal-  '■*  The  last  ten  chai)ters  curiously  gi'oup 

mud.   The  ///?r(Z  order  is  com])lete  in  both  toffether  events  or  thin.a;s  under  numerals 

Gemaras.     On  t\\^,fouvt]i  ordera  clia])ter  from  10  downwards.     The  most  generally 

is  wantinn-  in  one  tractate  (3A/Z7.vV//)  in  interestinu-of  these  is  that  of  the  10  AV///- 

the  JeTiisdlem,  and  two  whole  tractates  doth,  or  passaues  of  Scrii)ture  in  which 

{Ed>ij/ofh  and  AbhotJi)  in  both  (iemaras.  letters  are  nuirked  by  dots,  together  with 

^\w  Jjftli  order  is  wholly  wanting  in  the  the   explanation    of   their   reasons   (ch. 

Jerusalem,  and  two  and  a  half  tractates  xxxiv.).    The  whole  Boraitha  seems  com- 

of  it  (Middoth,  Qiniiim.  ami  half  Taviid)  posed  of  parts  of  three  difierent  works, 

in  the  Babylon  Talmud.     Of  the  sixth  and  consists  of  forty  (or  f(jrty-one)  chaj)- 

order  only  one  tractate  (Niddnh)  exists  ters,  and  occuiiies  ten  folio  leaves, 
in  both  Gemaras.     The  iirincipal   Ilala- 


CONTRAST    TO   THE   TKA('111N(J    OF   CHRIST.  105 

follow  six  minor  tractates.     These  are  respectively  entitled  Soiiherim     chap. 
(Scribes)/  detailing  the  ordinances  about  copying  the  Scriptures,  the       Vlii 
ritual   of  the   Lectionary,    and   festive   prayers;  Ebhel  Rabbafhi  or  ^^ — ^r^*-^ 
SemaA'hoth,'-  containing  llalakhah  and  Ilaggadah  about  funeral  and 
mourning  observances;  Kallah,-^  on  the  married  relationship;  Derekh 
Erets,*   embodying   moral    directions  and  the  rules  and  customs  of 
social  intercourse;  Derekh  Erets  Zuta,^  treating  of  similar  subjects, 
but  as  regards  learned  students;  and,  lastly,  the  Pereq  ha  Shalom,'^ 
Avhich  is  a  eulogy  on  peace.     All  these  tractates  date,  at  least  in  their 
present  form,  later  than  the  Talmudic  period.' 

But  when  the  Halakhah,  however  varied  in  its  application,  was 
something  fixed  and  stable,  the  utmost  latitude  was  claimed  and  given 
in  the  HaggadaJi.  It  is  sadly  characteristic,  that,  practically,  the  main 
body  of  Jewish  dogmatic  and  moral  theology  is  really  only  ffaggadah, 
and  hence  of  no  absolute  authority.  The  ITalak/uih  indicated  with 
the  most  minute  and  painfid  punctiliousness  every  legal  ordinance 
as  to  outward  observances,  and  it  explained  every  bearing  of  the  Law 
of  Moses.  But  beyond  this  it  left  the  inner  man,  the  spring  of 
actions,  untouched.  What  he  was  to  believe  and  what  to  feel,  was 
chiefly  matter  of  the  Ilaggadah.  Of  course  the  laAVS  of  moi"ality, 
and  religion,  as  laid  down  in  the  Pentateuch,  were  fixed  ijrinciples, 
but  there  was  the  greatest  divergence  and  latitude  iu  the  explanation 
and  api)lication  of  many  of  them.  A  uum  might  liold  or  propound 
almost  any  views,  so  long  as  he  contravened  nt)t  the  Law  of  Moses, 
as  it  was  understood,  and  adhered  in  teaching  and  i)i-actice  to  the 
traditional  ordinances.  In  {principle  it  was  the  same  liberty  which  the 
Romish  Church  accords  to  its  professing  meuibei's — only  with  much 
wider  application,  since  the  debatahle  ground  einl)]-aced  so  many 
matters  of  faith,  and  the  liberty  given  Avas  not  only  that  of  i)rivate 
opinion  but  of  pu])lic  utterance.  We  emj^hasise  this,  because  the 
absence  of  authoritative  direction  and  the  latitude  in  matters  of  faith 


'  Tn  twenty-one  chniiters.  eacli  ediitiiin-  altou'ether.    with    abundant    notes,  only 

inga  nunilier  of  Halakhalis,  and  occupy-  forty-four  snui  11  l)a<;'es,  whicli  ti'eal  of  tlie 

ing  in  all  four  folio  leaves.  copyiiiii-  of  the  Bible  {Sephir  Tovult,  1q 

'■^  In  fourteen  chapters,  occupying  rath-  live  chapters),  of  the  Meziizah,  or  niem- 

er  more  than  three  folio  leaves.  orial  on  tlie  doorposts  (in  two  cliapters), 

*  It  fills  litth^  more  than  a  folio  page.  of  Pln/lncfen'es  {Tpphillin,  in  one  eliap- 

*  In  eleven   cliapters,  covering  about  ter),  of  the  Tsifsif//.  or  memorial-fringes 
If  folio  leaves.  (in   one   diapter).   of  N/r/rw   (Ahhadim, 

■>  In  nine  chapters,  tilling  one  folio  leaf.  in    tlu'ee  chapters)  of  tlie    Cuf/irdiis,   or 

"  Little  more  than  a  folio  column.  Sanuu'itans  (in  two  chapters),  and,  finally, 

'  Besides  these.   liaphof^l    Kirvliht'ini  a  curious  tractate  on  Proselytes  {Gerim, 

has  published  (Frankfort,   ls,il)  the  so-  in  four  chajtters). 

called  seven  smaller  tractates,  covering 


iOo 


THE    i'REl'ARATloN    FOR   THE    (iUSl'EL. 


HOOK 
I 


■>  St.  Matt. 
XV.  11,  lt< 


iiud  iuiK-r  looliiig'  staiul  side  In'  side,  and  in  such  sliarp  contrast,  with 
tli(>  most  minute  i)unctiliousness  in  all  matters  of  outward  observance. 
And  here  we  may  nmrk  the  fundamental  distinction  between  the  teach- 
in<;-  of -Jesus  and  Kabbinism.  He  lett  the  Ifalakhah  untouched,  putting 
it,  as  it  were,  on  one  side,  as  soinethini>:  quite  secondary,  while  He 
insisted  as  pi-imnry  on  that  wliicli  lo  them  waschietly  matter  of  Hagga- 
(hdi.  And  this  rightly  so,  for,  in  His  own  words.  'Not  that  which 
goeth  into  the  mouth  detileth  a  man;  but  that  whic-l'  cometh  out  of 
the  mouth,'  since  'those  things  Avhich  proceed  out  of  the  mouth 
come  forth  from  the  heart,  and  they  detile  the  man.'"  The  ditference 
Avas  (m(^  of  fundamental  i)rincii)le,  and  not  merely  of  development, 
form,  oi'  detail.  The  one  develoix'il  the  Law  in  its  outward  direction 
as  ordinances  and  commandments;  the  other  in  its  inward  applica- 
tion as  life  and  liberty.  Thus  I»al)l)inism  occupied  one  pole — and  the 
outcome  of  its  tendency  to  i)ure  externalism  was  the  Halakhah,  all  that 
Avas  internal  and  higher  ])eing  merely  Haggadic.  The  teaching  of  Jesus 
occupied  the  opi)osite  ])ole.  Its  starting-i)oint  was  the  iinier  sanc- 
tuary in  which  (Jod  was  known  and  worsiiii)i)ed.  and  it  might  well 
leave  the  Rabbinic  Halaklujth  aside,  as  not  worth  controversy,  to  be 
in  the  meantime  'done  and  observed,'  in  the  tirm  assurance  that,  in 
the  course  of  its  develoi)ment.  the  si)irit  would  create  its  own  appro- 
l)riate  forms,  or,  to  use  a  New  Testanumt  tigure,  the  new  Avine  burst 
the  old  bottles.  And,  lastly,  as  closely  connected  with  all  this,  and 
nmrking  the  climax  of  contrariety;  Kabbinism  started  with  demand  of 
outward  obedience  and  righteousness,  and  pointed  to  sonshi])  as  its  goal: 
the  Gospel  started  Avith  the  free  gift  of  forgiveness  through  faith  and 
of  sonshi[),  and  i)ointed  to  obedience  and  righteousness  as  its  goal. 

In  truth,  Kabbinism,  as  such,  had  no  system  of  theology;  only  Avhat 
ideas,  conjectures,  or  fancies  the  Haggadah  yielded  concerning  God, 
Angels,  demons,  man,  his  future  destiny  and  })resent  position,  and 
Israel,  Avith  its  past  history  and  coining  glory.  Accordingly,  by  the 
side  of  Avliat  is  noble  and  pure,  what  a  tei-rible  mass  of  utter  incon- 
gruities, ofcontlicting  statements  and  too  often  debasing  superstitions, 
the  outcome  of  ignorance  and  narrow  nationalism:  of  legendary  colour- 
ing of  r>il)lical  narratives  and  scenes,  profane,  coarse,  anddegradingto 
them;  the  Almighty  Himself  and  His  Angels  taking  part  in  the  con- 
versations of  Rabbis,  and  the  discussions  of  Academics:  nay,  forming 
a  kind  of  heavenly  Sanhedi'in.  which  occasionally  requires  the  aid  of 
an  earthh'  Kabbi.'     The  miraculous  merges  into  the  ridiculous,  and 


'  Tliiis.  in  U.  Mi'Z.  S(i  a.  we  read  of  u      llic  snlijcct  nf  i»urity.  wlicii   l{al)l)ali  was 
iliscus.sion  ill  tlic  litnivenlv  AcadiMiiv  en      .-iuinniuiuMl  to  heaven  In  deatli,  aitliou^h 


Jl'DAIS.M    AM)    IIEATIIEXIS.M:    TIIKIK    (;()AL 


107 


even  tlie  revoltiiiu'.  Miraculous  cures,  uiiracul(»us  supplies,  iiiiraculuus 
help,  all  for  the  glory  of  great  Ilabbi.s/  who  by  a  look  or  woi'd  can 
kill,  and  restore  to  life.  At  their  l)iddiiig  the  eyes  ol"  a  I'ival  tall  out. 
and  are  again  inserted.  Nay,  siu-h  was  tlie  veneration  due  to  l\al)bis, 
that  K.  Joshua  used  to  kiss  the  stone  on  which  R.  Eliezer  had  sat  and 
lectured,  saying:  'This  stone  is  like  Mount  Sinai,  and  he  who  sat  on 
it  like  the  Ark."  Modern  ingenuity  has,  indeed,  striven  to  suggest 
deeper  symbolical  meaning  lor  such  stories.  It  should  own  the  terrible 
contrast  existing  side  by  side:  Hebrewism  and  Judaism,  the  Old 
Testament  and  traditionalism;  and  it  should  recognise  its  deeper 
cause  in  the  absence  of  that  element  of  spiritual  and  inner  life  which 
Christ  has  l)rought.  Thus  as  between  the  two — the  old  and  the  new 
— it  may  be  fearlessly  asserted  that,  as  regards  their  substance  and 
spirit,  there  is  not  a  dilference,  but  a  total  divergence,  of  funda- 
mental principle  between  Rabbinism  an<l  the  New  Testament,  so  that 
comparison  between  them  is  not  possiljle.  Here  there  is  absolute 
contrariety. 

The  i)ainful  fact  just  referred  to  is  only  too  clearly  illustrated  l)y 
the  relation  in  which  traditionalism  places  itself  to  the  Scriptures 
of  the  Old  Testament,  even  though  it  acknowledges  their  inspira- 
tion and  authority.  The  Talmud  has  it, '  that  he  who  busies  himself 
with  Scripture  only  {i.e.  without  either  the  jMisJuxiIi  ov  Geinuru)  has 
merit,  and  yet  no  merit.-  Even  the  comparative  ])aucity  of  references 
to  the  Ril)le  in  the  Mishnah''  is  siii'nificant.      Jsrael  had  made  void 


ciiAr 


"  Baba 

Mets.  33  a 


tliis  required  a  miracle,  since  he  was  con- 
stantly engaged  in  sacred  study,  i^lioci';- 
ing  to  write,  it  needed  tlie  authority  of 
lJal)])ah  to  attest  the  correctness  of  the 
Ahiiighty's  statement  on  the  Halakhic 
((uestiou  discussed. 

'  Some  of  these  miracles  are  detailed 
in  B.  Mets.  85  h.  86  a.  Thus,  Resh  Lakish. 
wlien  searching  for  tiie  tomb  of  K.  Chija. 
found  that  it  was  miraculously  renu>ved 
from  his  sight,  as  being  too  sacred  for 
ordinary  eyes.  The  same  Rabbi  clainu'd 
.sucii  merit,  that  for  his  sake  the  Law 
siiould  never  be  forgotten  in  Israel. 
Sudi  was  the  power  of  tlie  i)atriarchs 
tiuit,  if  they  had  been  raised  u))  together, 
they  would  have  brought  Messiah  iiefoiv 
His  lime.  When  R.  Ciiija  praye*!,  succes- 
sively a  storm  arose,  the  rain  descended, 
and  the  earth  trembled.  Again.  Rab])ah, 
when  about  to  be  arrested,  caused  the 
face' of  the  messenger  to  be  turned  to 
his  l)ack,  and  again  restored  it;  next,  l)\ 
his  prayer  lie  made  a  wall  burst,  and  so 


escai)ed.  In  Abhod.  Zar.  17  //.  a  miracle 
is  recorded  in  favour  of  R.  Eleazar,  to  .set 
him  free  from  his  persecutors,  or,  rather, 
to  attest  a  false  statement  which  he 
made  in  order  to  escape  martyrdom. 
Vo\-  further  extravagant  jtraises  of  the 
Ralibis,  comj).  8anh.  101  a. 

-  Similarly  we  read  in  Aliotli  d.  R. 
Natlian  2!):  -He  who  is  master  of  the 
Midrash.  Imr  knows  no  Halakhahs,  is  like 
a  iiei'o,  1)ui  there  are  no  ai'ins  in  his  hand, 
lie  that  is  master  of  tlie  Halaklioth,  but 
knows  nothing  of  the  ^lidrashim.  is  a 
wcalv  person  who  is  |)rovided  with  arms. 
Hut  he  that  is  master  of  both  is  both  a 
hero  and  armed." 

•'  Most  of  these,  of  coiu'se,  are  IVom  the 
Pentateuch.  References  to  any  other  Old 
Testament  books  are  generally  loosely 
made,  and  serve  chietly  as  /lo/iifs  (/'(tppi/i 
for  Rabbinical  sayings.  Scriptui'al  (piota- 
tions  occur  in  .M  out  of  the  (!:i  tractate.s 
of  the  Mi.'^hnah.  the  number  of  verses 
(pioti'd  being  A'.'iO.     \  ((notation  in  the 


108 


THE    PUErAliATlUX    FOll   THE    GO>>^PEL. 


I5()()K 
I 


the  Law  b}-  its  traditions.  Under  a  load  of  outward  ordinances  and 
observances  its  spirit  had  been  crushed.  The  religion  as  well  as  the 
gi-aiid  hope  of  the  Old  Testament  had  become  externalized.  And  so 
alike  Heathenism  and  Ju(Uiism — for  it  was  no  longer  the  pure  religion 
of  tlie  Old  Testament — each  following  its  own  direction,  had  reached 
its  goal.  All  was  prepared  and  waiting.  The  very  i)orch  had  l)een 
Iniilt,  through  which  the  new,  and  yet  old,  religion  was  to  pass  into 
the  ancient  world,  and  the  ancient  world  into  the  new  religion. 
Only  one  thing  was  needed:  the  Coming  of  the  Christ.  As  yet 
darkness  covered  the  earth,  and  gross  darkness  lay  upon  the  people. 
I3ut  far  away  the  golden  light  of  the  new  day  -was  already  tingeing 
the  edge  of  the  horizon.  Presently  would  the  Lord  arise  upon  Zion, 
and  His  glory  be  seen  upon  her.  Presently  would  the  Voice  from 
out  the  wilderness  prepare  the  way  of  the  Lord;  i)resently  would  it 
herald  the  Coming  of  His  Christ  to  Jew  and  Gentile,  and  that 
Kingdom  of  heaven,  which,  established  uj^on  earth,  is  righteousness, 
and  ])eace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost. ^ 


Mishiiah  is  ,2;eneriilly  iiitrotlnced  l),v  the 
formula  'as  it  is  said.'  Tliis  in  all  but 
sixteen  instances,  wliere  the  ([uotation  is 
prefaced  by,  'Scripture  means  to  say.' 
But,  in  general,  the  difference  in  the 
mode  of  quotation  in  Rabbinic  writings 
seems  to  depend  partly  on  the  context, 
but  chiefly  on  the  place  and  time.  Thus, 
'  as  it  is  written '  is  a  Chaldee  moile  of 
quotation.  Half  the  quotations  in  the 
Tahnud  are  prefaced  by  'as  it  is  said;' 
a  lifth  of  them  Ijy  •  as  it  is  written ; '  a 
tenth  by  'Scripture  means  to  say;'  and 
the  reiiiaining  tifth  by  various  other 
formulas.     Comp.  Pinner's  Introduction 


to  Berakhoth.  In  the  .Jerusalem  Talmud 
no  al-fikre  ('read  not  so,  but  read  so') 
occurs,  for  the  iMiri)oses  of  textual  criti- 
cism. In  the  Talmud  a  Tavourite  mode 
of  quoting  from  the  Pentateuch,  made  in 
about  600  passages,  is  by  introducing  it 
as  spoken  or  written  by  xi^tm-  "The 
vai'lous  modes  in  which  Biblical  quota- 
tions are  made  in  .Jewish  writings  are 
enumerated  in  Sifrenfiusii's  BifiXo? 
KaraAXay))^,  p)).  1-.36. 

^  For  details  on  the  Jewish  views  on 
the  Canon,  and  historical  and  mystical 
tiieology,  see  Ajipendix  V. :  •  Rabl)inic 
Theology  and  Literature.' 


BOOf?   II. 

FROM  THE  MANGER  IN  BETHLEHEM  TO   THE 
BAPTISM   IN  JORDAN. 


•  Fortitudo  iiilirniatiir, 
Parva  tit  iinmensitas; 
Liberator  alligatiir, 
Nascitur  a?ternitas. 
O  quam  mira  i)erpetrasti 
Jesu  propter  hoiiiinem  ! 
Tani  ardeuter  ([ueni  aniasti 

Paradiso  exulem.' — Ancient  Latin  Hymn. 


THE   JERUSALEM  OF  SOLOMON  AND  OF  HEROD.  m 


CHAPTP]R  I. 

IN  JERUSALEM   WHEN  HEHOD  KEK.'XED. 

If  the  du8t  ol'ti-n  ('iMiturics  vowUl  liavc  Ix'cii  wiped  Iroiu  tlio  cvclitls     CHAP, 
of  those  slcepci'8,  and  one  of  thoiii  who  tliroii.uccl  -Icnisah'in   in  the  I 

highday  of  its  glory,  (hiring  the  I'eign  of  King  Solomon,  had  returned  ^— ^r^^^ 
to  its  streets,  he  would  seareely  have  recognised  the  once  familiar 
city.  Then,  as  now,  a  Jewish  king  reigned,  who  bore  undivided  rule 
over  the  whole  land  ;  then,  as  now,  the  city  was  filled  with  riches  and 
adorned  with  palaces  and  architectural  monuments  ;  then,  as  now, 
Jerusalem  was  crowded  with  strangers  trom  all  lands.  Solomon  and 
Herod  were  each  the  last  Jewish  king  over  the  Land  of  Promise;* 
Solomon  and  Herod,  each,  built  the  Temple.  Hut  with  the  son  of 
David  began,  and  with  the  Idunnean  ended,  'the  kingdom';  or 
rather,  having  fulfilled  its  mission,  it  gave  place  to  the  spiritual 
world-kingdom  of  '  David's  greater  Son."  The  sce])tre  departed  from 
Judah  to  where  the  nations  were  to  gather  under  its  sway.  And  the 
Temple  which  Solomon  built  was  the  first,  hi  it  the  Sliekhinah 
dwelt  visibly.  The  Temple  which  Herod  reared  was  the  last.  The 
ruins  of  its  burning,  which  the  torch  of  the  Romans  had  kindled, 
were  never  to  be  restored.  Herod  was  not  the  aiitityi»e,  he  was  the 
Barabbas,  of  David's  Royal  Son. 

In  other  respects,  also,  the  difterence  was  almost  eipially  great. 
The  four  'comi)anion-like'  hills  on  which  the  city  was  built,"  the  «Ps.  cxxii, 
deep  clefts  l)y  which  it  was  surrounded,  the  Mount  of  Olives  rising 
in  the  the  east,  were  the  same  as  a  thousand  years  ago.  There,  as  of  old 
were  the  Pool  of  Siloam  and  the  royal  gardens — nay,  the  very  Avail 
that  had  then  surrounded  the  city.  And  yet  all  was  so  altered  as  to  be 
scarcely  recognisal)le.  The  ancient  Jebusite  fort,  the  City  of  David, 
Mount  Zion.'  was  now  the  priests'  ([iiarter,  Ophel.  and  the  old  royal 
palace  and  stables  had  been  thrown  into  the  'I'diiiile  area — now  com- 

•  I  do  not  here  reckon  the  brief  reign  on  the  traditional  site,  on  the  western  hill 

of  King  An:rippa.  of  Jerusalem,  but  on  the  eastern,  south 

2  It  will  be  seen  that,  with  the  most  of  the  Temple  area. 
I'eoent  explorers.  I  locate  Mount  Zion  not 


112  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK  pletely  levelled — where  they  formed  the  luagniticent  treble  eolonnade, 
II  known  as  the  Royal  Torch.  Passing  through  it,  and  out  by  the 
^ — -'^  '  Western  Gate  of  the  Temple,  we  stand  on  the  innnense  bridge 
which  spans  the  'Valley  of  the  Cheesemongers,'  or  the  Tyropceon, 
and  connects  the  Eastern  with  the  Western  hills  of  the  city.  It  is 
perliaps  here  that  we  can  best  nuirk  the  outstanding  features,  and 
note  the  changes.  On  the  right,  as  we  look  northward,  are  (on 
the  Eastern  hill)  Oi)hel,  the  Priest-quarter,  and  the  Temple — oil,  how 
Avondrously  V)eautiful  and  enlarged,  and  rising  terrace  upon  terrace, 
surrounded  by  massive  walls:  a  palace,  a  fortress,  a  Sanctuary  of 
shining  marble  and  glittering  gold.  And  bejond  it  frowns  the  old 
fortress  of  Baris,  rebuilt  by  Herod,  and  named  after  his  patron, 
Antonia.  This  is  the  Hill  of  Zion.  Right  below  us  is  the  cleft  of 
the  Tyrojioeon — and  here  cree])S  up  northwards  the  'Lower  City'  or 
Acra,  m  the  form  of  a  crescent,  widening  into  an  almost  square 
'  suburb.'  Across  the  Tyropceon,  westward,  rises  the  '  Upper  City.' 
If  the  Lower  City  and  suburb  form  the  business-quarter  with  its 
markets,  bazaars,  and  streets  of  trades  and  guilds,  the  '  Upper  City' 
is  that  of  palaces.  Here,  at  the  other  end  of  the  great  bridge  which 
connects  the  Temple  with  the  'Upper  City,'  is  the  palace  of  the 
Maccabees;  beyond  it,  the  Xystos,  or  vast  colonnaded  enclosure, 
where  popular  assemblies  are  held  ;  then  the  Palace  of  Ananias 
the  High-Priest,  and  nearest  to  the  Temple,  '  the  Council  Chamber ' 
and  public  Archives.  Behind  it,  westwards,  rise,  terrace  upon  terrace, 
the  stately  mansions  of  the  Upper  City,  till,  quite  in  the  north-west 
corner  of  the  old  city,  we  reach  the  Palace  which  Herod  had  built  for 
himself — almost  a  city  and  fortress,  flanked  l)y  three  high  towers,  and 
enclosing  spacious  gardens.  Beyond  it  again,  and  outside  the  city 
walls,  b(3th  of  the  first  and  the  second,  stretches  all  north  of  the  city 
the  new  suburb  of  Bezetha.  Here  on  every  side  are  gardens  and 
villas;  here  passes  the  great  northern  road;  out  there  must  th(}y 
have  laid  hold  on  Simon  the  Cyrenian,  and  here  must  have  led  the 
way  to  the  place  of  the  Crucifixion. 

Changes  that  marked  the  chequered  course  of  Israel's  history 
had  come  even  over  the  city  walls.  The  first  and  oldest — that  of 
David  and  Solomon — ran  round  the  west  side  of  the  Upper  City, 
then  crossed  south  to  the  Pool  of  Siloam,  and  ran  up  east,  round 
Ophel,  till  it  reached  the  eastern  enclosure  of  tlie  Temple,  whence 
it  passed  in  a  straight  line  to  the  point  from  which  it  had  started, 
forming  the  northern  l)oundary  of  the  ancient  city.  But  although 
this  wall  still  existed,  there  was  now  a  marked  addition  to  it.     When 


B.C. 


WALLS   AND    FOKTS.  II3 

the   Maccabee   Jonathan   finally   cleared   Jerusalem   of  the   Syrian  chap. 

garrison  that  lay  in  Fort  Aera,''  he  built  a  wall  right  'through  the  1 

middle  of  the  city,'  so  as  to  shut  out  the  foe.''     This  wall  probably  ran  ^- — ^r — ' 

from  the  western  aniile  of  the  Temiile  southwards,  to  near  the  pool  of  "iMacc.  i. 

.  '  '  ^  33,  and 

8iloam,  following  the  winding  course  of  the  Tyropoeon,  but  on  the  f'"en:hut 

'  '='  '^  .  *'       ^  '  the  precise 

other  side  of  it,  where  the  declivity  of  the  Upper  City  merged  in  the  pfJJ^""" 
valley.     Another  monument  of  the  Syrian  Wars,  of  the  Maccabees,    '.fort'i« 

*'  ''  y  'in  dispute 

and  of  Herod,  was  the  fortress  Antonia.     Part  of  it  had,  probably,    MMacc 
been  formerly  occupied  by  what  was  known  as  Fort  Acra,  of  such  Ant.'xiii.''5! 
unhappy  prominence  in  the  wars  that  preceded  and  marked  the  early  wi"thT"xiv. 
Maccabean  period.     It  had  passed  from  the  Ptolemies  to  the  S3Tians,    vi!  ■i'.2;'Ki 
and  always  formed  the  central  spot  round  which  the  fight  for  the  city 
turned.      Judas  Maccabee  had  not  been  able  to  take  it.      Jonathan 
lirtd  laid  siege  to  it,  and  built  the  wall,  to  which  reference  has  just 
been  made,  so  as  to  isolate  its  garrison.     It  was  at  last  taken  by 
Simon,   the  brotlicr   and  successor  of  Jonathan,  and    levelled  with 
the  ground."     Fort  Baris,  which  was  constructed  by  his  successor  <-i4ib.c. 
Hyrcanus  I.,'^  covered  a  much  wider  space.     It  lay  on  the  north-  t^^s-ioe 
western  angle  of  the  Temj)le,  slightly  jutting  beyond  it  in  the  west, 
hut  not  covering  the  whole  northern  area  of  the  Temple.      The  rock 
ou  which  it  stood  was  higher  than  the  Temple,^  although  lower  than 
the  hill  up  which  the  new  suburb  Bezetha  crept,  which,  accordingly, 
was  cut  olf  by  a  deep  ditch,  for  the  safety  of  the  fortress.     Herod 
greatly  enlarged  and  strengthened  it.      Within  encircling  walls  the 
fort  rose  to  a  height  of  sixty  feet,  and  was  flanked  by  four  towers,  of 
which  three  had  a  height  of  seventy,  the  fourth  (S.E.),  which  jutted 
into  the   Temple  area,  of  105  feet,  so  as  to  command   the  sacred 
enclosure.     A  subterranean  passage  led  into  the  Temple  itself,'"  which 
was  also  connected  with  it  by  colonnades  and  stairs.     Herod  had 
adorned  as  well  as  strengthened  and  enlarged,  this  fort  (now  Anto- 
nia), and  made  it  a  palace,  an  armed  camp,  and  almost  a  city.''  f./o.s.  war 

Hitherto  we  have  only  spoken  of  the  first,  or  old  wall,  which 
was  fortified  by  sixty  towers.  The  second  wall,  which  had  only 
fourteen  towers,  began  at  some  ]ioint  in  the  nortliern  wall  at  the  Gate 
Gennath,  whence  it  ran  north,  and  then  east,  so  as  to  enclose  Acra 
and  the  Suburb.  It  terminated  at  Fort  Antonia.  Beyond,  and  all 
around  this  second  wall  stretched,  as  already  noticed,  the  new,  as 
yet  unenclosed  suburb  Bezetha,  rising  towards  the  north-east.     But 

'It    is,    to   say  the    least,    doubtful,       v.  5. 8),  appliestoitsboiirlitioomp. -S'^Wss, 
whether  the  numeral  50  cubits  (7.''i  feet).      Das  Jerus.  d.  .Jos.  p.  fifiV 
which  Josephus  assigns  to  this  rock  (War 


8 


114  FROM    BETHLEHEM    TO   .lOlIDAX. 

BOOK  those  changes  were  as  iiutliiug  compared  with  those  within  the  city 
n  itself.  First  and  foremost  was  the  great  transformation  in  the 
^-^-^(^-^  Temi^le  itself/  which,  from  a  small  building,  little  larger  than  an 
ordinary  church,  in  the  time  of  Solomon,^  had  become  that  great  and 
glorious  House  which  excited  the  admiration  of  tlu^  foreigner,  and 
kindled  the  enthusiasm  of  every  son  of  Israel.  At  the  time  of  Christ 
it  had  been  already  forty-six  years  in  building,  and  workmen  were 
still,  and  for  a  long  time,  engaged  on  it.'^  But  what  a  heterogeneous 
crowd  thronged  its  ixirches  and  courts!  Hellenists;  scattered 
wanderers  from  the  most  distant  parts  of  the  earth — east,  west,  north, 
and  south;  Galileans,  quick  of  temper  and  uncouth  of  Jewish  speech; 
Judseans  and  Jerusalemites;  white-robed  Priests  and  Levites;  Temple 
ofticials;  broad-phylacteried,  wide-fringed  Pharisees,  and  courtly, 
ironical  Sadducees;  and,  in  the  outer  court,  curious  Gentiles! 
Some  had  come  to  worship;  others  to  pay  vows,  or  bring  offerings, 
or  to  seek  purification;  some  to  meet  friends,  and  discourse  on 
religious  subjects  in  those  colonnaded  porches,  which  ran  round  the 
Sanctuary;  or  else  to  have  their  questions  answered,  or  their  causes 
heard  and  decided,  by  the  smaller  Sanhedrin  of  twenty-three,  that  sat 
in  the  entering  of  the  gate  or  by  the  Great  Sajdiedrin.  The  latter 
no  longer  occupied  the  Hall  of  Hewn  Stones,  Gazith,  l)ut  met  in  some 
chamber  attached  to  those  'shops,'  or  booths,  on  the  Temple  Mount, 
which  belonged  to  the  High-Priestly  family  of  Ananias,  and  where 
such  profita])le  trade  was  driven  by  those  who,  in  their  cupidity  and 
covetousness,  were  worthy  successors  of  the  sons  of  Eli.  In  the  Court 
of  the  Gentiles  (or  in  its  porches)  sat  the  official  money-changers,  who 
for  a  fixed  discount  changed  all  foreign  coins  into  those  of  the 
Sanctuary.  Here  also  was  that  great  mart  for  sacrificial  animals,  and 
all  that  was  requisite  for  offerings.  How  the  simple,  earnest  country 
people,  who  came  to  pay  vows,  or  bring  offerings  for  purifying,  must 
have  wondered,  and  felt  oi)i)ressed  in  that  atmosphere  of  strangely 
blended  religious  rigorism  and  utter  worldliness;  and  how  they  must 
have  been  taxed,  imposed  ui)on,  and  treated  with  utmost  curtness, 
nay,  rudeness,  by  those  who  laughed  at  their  boorishness,  and  despised 
them  as  cursed,  ignorant  country  people,  little  better  than  heathens, 
or,  for  that  matter,  th-an  brute  beasts.  Here  also  there  lay  about 
a  crowd  of  noisy  beggars,  unsightly  from  disease,  and  clamorous 
for  helj).     And  close   by   passed  the  luxurious   scion  of  the  High- 

'  I  must  take  leave  to  refer  to  the  de-  Part  viii.  ]).  (is2  li.  speaks  of  the  dimen- 

8criptioii    of   .Jerusalem,    and   esjieciallv  sioiis  of  the  old  Sanctuary  lus  little  more 

of  the  Tenii)le,  in  the  'Temple  and  ils  than  those  of  a  villa,i,^e  church. 
Services  at  tiie  Time  of  .Tesus  Christ.'  •'  It  was  only  finished  in  64  a.d.,  that 

■■'Dr.  MUhhni,  in  Riehm's  TTandw/irterl).  is.  six  VPars  before  its  destruction. 


IN   THE   CITV    AND   AMUNG   THE   BAZAARS.  115 

Priestly  families;  the  i)r()U(l,  intensely  s(?ll-conscious  Teacher  of  the     CHAr. 
Law,   respcetfully  followed  l)y  his  disciples;    and  the    quick-witted,  I 

subtle  Scribe.  These  were  men  who,  on  Sal)baths  and  feast-days,  ^— ^r'— ^ 
would  come  out  on  the  Temple-terrace  to  teach  the  people,  or  con- 
descend to  answer  their  questions;  who  in  the  Syna.u'o^'ues  would 
hold  their  i)u/,zled  hearers  spell-hound  by  llieir  traditional  loi'e  and 
subtle  argumentation,  or  tickle  the  fancy  of  tiie  entranced  multitude, 
that  thronged  every  available  space,  by  their  ingenious  frivolities, 
their  nmi'vellous  legends,  or  their  clever  sayings;  but  w  ho  would,  if 
occasion  required,  (piell  an  opi)onent  by  well-i)oised  questions,  or  crush 
him  beneath  the  sheer  weight  of  authority.  Yet  others  were  there 
who,  desi)ite  the  utterly  lowering  intluence  which  the  frivolities  of 
the  prevalent  religion,  and  the  elaborate  ti'itling  of  its  endless  observ- 
ances, must  have  exercised  on  the  nioi-al  and  religious  feelings  of 
all — perhaps,  because  of  them — turned  aside,  and  looked  back  with 
loving  gaze  to  the  spiritual  promises  of  the  past,  and  forward  with 
longing  exi)ectancy  to  the  near  'consolation  of  Israel,'  waiting  for  it 
in  jn-ayei-ful  fellowship,  and  with  bright,  heaven-granted  gleams  of  its 
dawning  light  amidst  the  encircling  gloom. 

Descending  fnnn  the  Tenqile  into  tlie  city,  there  was  more  than 
enlargement,  due  to  the  increased  i)opulation.  Altogether,  Jerusalem 
covered,  at  its  greatest,  about  ;^00  acres.'  As  of  old  there  were  still 
the  same  nari'ow  streets  in  the  business  quarters;  but  in  close  con- 
tiguity to  bazaars  and  shops  rose  stately  mansions  of  wealthy  merchants, 
and  palaces  of.  princes.^  And  what  a  change  in  the  aspect  of  these 
streets,  in  the  character  of  those  shops,  and,  aliove  all,  in  the  appear- 
ance of  the  restless  Eastern  crowd  that  surged  to  and  fro!  Outside  their 
shops  in  the  streets,  or  at  least  in  sight  of  the  passers,  and  within  reach 
of  their  talk,  was  the  shoenudvcr  hammering  his  sandals,  the  tailor 
])lying  his  needle,  the  cari)enter,  or  th(!  worker  in  iron  and  brass.  Those 
who  were  less  busy,  or  nn)re  enterprising,  passed  along,  wearing  some 
end)lem  of  their  trade:  the  dyer,  variously  coloured  threads;  the  car- 
penter, a  rule:  the  wi-iter,  a  reed  behind  his  ear;  the  tailor,  with  a 
needle  prominently  stuck  in  his  dress.  In  the  side  streets  the  less 
attractive  occiq^ations  of  the  butcher,  the  wool-comber,  or  the  flax- 
spinner  were  carried  on.  In  these  large,  shady  halls,  artistic  trades 
Avere  pursued:  the  elegant  worknninship  of  the  goldsmith  and  jeweller; 
the  various  arficlcs  de  luxe,  that  adorned  the  houses  of  the  rich;  the 
Avork  of  the  designer,  the  moulder,  or  th(>  artificer  in  iron  or  brass. 

'  See  Conder,  Heth  and  Moab,  ji.  !(4. 

'■*  Such  as  the  Palace  of  Grapte,  and  tluit  nf  Queen  Helena  of  Adiabeue. 


116 


FROiVr  BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


b  Arakh.  vi. 
5 

<-'  Baba  K. 
X.  4 

■i  Men.  xiii. 
8;  Baba  K. 
iil.  9 

<■  Tos.  Sheq. 
ii. ;  To.s. 
Ar.  iv. 

'Men.  xili. 
8 


='  Tos.  Balsa 
Mets.  iv 


■>  Yoma  35  b 


•  Peah  viii. 
8,9 


In  tliese  streets  and  lanes  everytliiiiii-  nii^ht  be  purchased:  the  pro- 
duction of  Palestine,  or  imported  from  foreign  lands — nay,  the  rarest 
articles  from  the  remotest  parts.  Exquisitely  shaped,  curiously  de- 
signed and  Jewelled  cups,  rings  and  other  workmanship  of  })reci()us 
metals;  glass,  silks,  tine  linen,  woollen  start's,  ])ur])le,  and  costly  hang- 
ings; essences,  ointments,  and  perfumes,  as  i)recious  as  gold;  articles 
of  food  and  drink  from  foreign  lands — in  short,  what  India,  Persia, 
Arabia,  Media,  Egyi)t,  Italy,  Greece,  and  even  the  far-oft"  lan<ls  of  the 
Gentiles  yielded,  might  be  had  in  these  bazaars. 

Ancient  Jewish  writings  enal)]e  us  to  identify  no  fewer  than  118 
different  articles  of  import  from  foreign  lands,  covering  more  than  even 
modern  hi.xury  has  devised.  Articles  of  luxury,  especially  from  abroad, 
fetched  indeed  enormous  jirices;  and  a  lady  might  spend  .36^.  on  a 
cloak: "  silk  would  be  paid  1)}'  its  weight  in  gold;  purple  wool  at  3^.  o-s. 
the  i)ound,  or,  if  double-dyed,  at  almost  ten  times  that  amount;  while 
the  price  of  the  best  balsam  and  nard  was  most  exorbitant.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  cost  of  common  living  was  very  low.  In  the  bazaars 
you  miglit  get  a  complete  suit  for  your  slave  for  eighteen  or  nineteen 
shillings,"  and  a  tolerable  outfit  for  yourself  from  Bl.  to  61.  For  the 
same  sum  you  might  purchase  an  ass,'  an  ox,''  or  a  cow,"  and,  for  little 
more,  a  horse.  A  calf  might  lie  liad  for  less  than  fifteen  shillings,  a 
goat  for  five  or  six.*^  Sheep  were  dearer,  and  fetched  from  four  to 
fifteen  or  sixteen  shillings, Avhile  a  land)  might  sometimes  be  had  as  low 
as  two  pence.  No  wonder  living  and  hdxtur  were  so  cheap.  Corn  of 
all  kinds,  fruit,  wine,  and  oil,  cost  very  little.  Meat  Avas  about  a  penny 
a  pound;  a  nmn  might  get  himself  a  small,  of  course  unfurnished, 
lodging  for  about  sixpence  a  week.^  A  day  lal)ourer  was  paid  about 
l^d.  a  day,  though  skilled  labour  would  fetch  a  good  deal  more.  In- 
deed, the  great  Hillel  was  i)opularly  su])posed  to  have  supported  his 
family  on  less  than  twopence  a  day,"  while  proi)erty  to  the  amount  of 
about  G/. ,  oi-  ti'ade  with  21.  or  3^  of  goods,  was  supposed  to  exclude  a 
person  from  charity,  or  a  claim  on  what  was  left  in  the  corners  of 
fields  and  to  the  gleaners.' 

To  tliese  many  like  details  might  be  added.'  Sufficient  has  been 
said  to  show  the  two  ends  of  society:  the  exceeding  dearness  of  luxu- 
ries, and  the  col-responding  cheapness  of  necessaries.  Such  extremes 
w^mld  meet  especially  at  Jerusalem.  Its  population,  computeil  at 
frcnn  200.(100  to  2.")0.000.'-  was  enormously  swelled  by  travellers,  and  ])y 


'  Com\).  Ucr2f('l<r.'<  liaiiik'ls.i^esch.  modern  city.    Comp.  Dr.  ,SV7//V7r  in  .1.  J/. 

■-'  Anci(Mit   .k'nisait'in    is   supposed   to      Luncz,  '  Jerusalem,' for  18S2. 
liavecovcr('(l  about  dmililf  thf  aroaof  the 


MAHKETS,   FAIRS,   AND    SHOPS. 


117 


l)ilgrims (luring thogTcat  lestivals.'  The  great  Palace  wari  the  residence 
of  King  and  Court,  with  all  tlieir  following  and  luxury;  in  Antonia 
iay  afterwards  the  Roman  garrison.  The  Temple  called  thousands  of 
priests,  many  of  them  with  their  families,  to  Jerusalem;  while  the 
learned  Academies  were  filled  with  hundreds,  though  it  may  have  been 
mostly  poor,  scholars  and  students.  In  Jerusalem  must  ha  nc  been  many 
of  the  large  warehouses  tor  the  near  commercial  harboiii- of  J(»|)pa; 
and  thence,  as  from  the  industrial  centres  of  busy  Galilee,  would 
the  pedlar  go  forth  to  carry  his  wares  over  the  land.  More  especially 
would  the  markets  of  Jerusalem,  held,  however,  in  bazaars  and  streets 
rather  than  in  squares,  be  thronged  with  noisy  sellers  and  bargaining 
l)uyers.  Thither  would  Galilee  send  n()t  only  its  manufactures,  but  its 
provisions:  fish  (fresh  or  salted),  fruit*  known  for  its  lusciousness,  oil, 
grape-syrup,  and  wine.  There  were  special  inspectors  for  these  mar- 
kets— the  Agardemis  or  Agronimos — w^ho  tested  weights  and  measures, 
and  officially  stamped  them,'*  tried  the  soundness  of  food  or  drink,''  and 
occasionally  fixed  or  lowered  the  market-prices,  enforcing  tlieir 
decision,'"  if  need  were,  even  with  the  stick.'  '  Not  only  was  there  an 
ui)per  and  a  lower  market  in  Jerusalem, '^  but  we  read  of  at  least  seven 
special  markets:  those  for  cattle,^  wool,  iron-ware,''  clothes,  wood,' 
l)read,  and  fruit  and  vegetables.  The  original  market-days  were 
Monday  and  Tuesday,  afterwards  Friday.''  The  large  fairs  (Yeridiu) 
were  naturally  confined  to  the  centres  of  import  and  export — the  bor- 
ders of  Egypt  (Gaza),  the  ancient  Phoenician  maritime  towns  (Tyre 
and  Acco),  and  the  Emporium  across  the  Jordan  (Botnah).  Besides, 
every  caravansary,  or  khan  (qatlis,  atlis,  KataXvffig),  was  a  soi't  of 
mart,  where  goods  were  unloaded,  and  especially  cattle  set  oiif^  fbi-  sale, 
and  purchases  made.  But  in  Jerusalem  one  may  suppose  the  sellei's 
to  have  been  every  day  in  the  market;  and  the  magazines,  in  which 
greengrocery  and  all  kinds  of  meat  were  sold  (the  Beth  hciSIievaqim),'" 
nmst  have  been  always  open.  Besides,  there  were  the  many  shojis 
(Chanuyoth)  either  fronting  the  streets,  or  in  courtyards,  or  else  movable 
wooden  booths  in  the  streets.    Strangelv  enough,  occasionally  Jewish 


("HAP 


»  Maaser  ii. 
3 


b  Baba  B. 

89  a 

<:  .Ter.  Ab.  Z. 
44  J>:  Ab.  Z. 
58  a 

i'  Jer.  Dein. 

22  c- 

<■  Yonia  '.I  " 

f  Sanh.  89  " 

?  Erub.  s.  '.I 

''  Jo,:  ^^  ar 
V.  8.  1 

i  Ibid.  ii. 
19.  4 

k  To8.  Baba 
Mets.  lii. 


I  Kerltli. 
lii.  7; 
Temur.  ill. 


'"  Makhsh. 
vi.  2 


^  Altlmutrh  .Jerusalem  covered  only 
about  :^00  aci-e.s,  yet.  froui  the  narrowness 
of  Oriental  street.-^,  it  would  hold  a  very 
much  larijer  poindation  than  any  West- 
ern city  of  the  same  e.xtent.  Besides,  we 
must  remember  that  its  ecclesia.stical 
boundaries  extended  l)eyond  the  city. 

■^  On  the  question  of  ofhcially  fi.xini;- 
the  market-price.  diverKiuii;  opinions  are 
expressed,  Baba  B.  89  h.  It  was  tliouii;ht 
that  the  market-i)rice  should  leave  to  the 


producer  a  i)rofit  of  oiu^-sixth  on  the 
cost  (Baba  B.  !>0  ti).  In  liienei'al,  the 
laws  on  these  subjects  form  a  nuist  in- 
teresting- study.  "  B/oi/i  (Mos.  Talni. 
l\)lizeir.^  holds,  tliat  there  were  two 
classes  of  nuirket-officials.  But  this  is 
not  supported  by  suthcieiit  evidence,  nor, 
indeed,  would  such  an  arraiiiiement  seem 
likely. 

•'  that  of  Botnah  was  the  lar2;est,  Jer. 
Ab.  Z.  'M)  (7. 


118 


FROM    BETIILElUiM   TO   JOKDAX. 


BOOK 
II 


Kethulj. 
X.  i 


*  St.  Mark 
xiv.  66 


k  St.  Luke 
xxiii.  6,  7 


■Jos.  War 
U.3.  1 


<•  Ant.  XV. 
8.  1 


'  Ant.  xvii. 
10.  2;  War 
H.  3.  1,  2 


women  wero  oni ployed  in  .selling.'  Bnsinet^.s  was  also  done  in  the 
restaurants  and  wineshops,  of  which  there  were  many;  w^here  you 
might  be  served  witli  some  dish:  fresh  or  salted  fish,  fried  locusts,  a 
mess  of  vegeta])les,  a  dish  of  soup,  pastry,  sweetmeats,  or  a  piece 
of  a  fruit-cake,  to  be  w'ashed  down  with  Juda;an  or  Galilean  wine, 
Idumaean  vinegar,  or  foreign  beer. 

If  from  these  busy  scenes  we  turn  to  the  more  aristocratic  quarters 
of  the  Upper  City,  ^  we  still  see  the  same  narrow  streets,  but  tenanted 
by  another  class.  First,  we  pass  the  High-Priest's  palace  on  the 
slope  of  the  hill,  with  a  low^er  story  under  the  ]H-incipal  apartments, 
and  a  porch  in  front.  Here,  on  the  night  of  the  Betrayal,  Peter  was 
'beneath  in  the  Palace.'"  Next,  we  come  to  Xystos,  and  then 
])ause  for  a  moment  at  the  Palace  of  the  Maccal)ees.  It  lies  higher  up 
the  hill,  and  westward  from  the  Xystos.  From  its  halls  you  can  look 
into  the  city,  and  even  into  the  Temple.  We  know  not  which  of  the 
Maccabees  had  l)uilt  this  palace.  But  it  was  occupied,  not  by  the 
actually  reigning  prince,  who  always  i-esided  in  the  fortress  (Baris, 
afterwards  Antonia),  but  by  some  other  member  of  the  family.  From 
them  it  passed  into  the  possession  of  Herod.  There  Herod  Antipas 
was  when,  on  that  terrible  Passover,  Pilate  sent  Jesus  from  the  old 
palace  of  Herod  to  be  examined  by  the  Ruler  of  (ialilee.''  If  these 
buildings  pointed  to  the  difference  between  the  past  and  present,  two 
structures  of  Herod's  were,  perhaps,  more  eloquent  than  any  words  in 
their  accusations  of  the  Idumaean.  One  of  these,  at  least,  would  come 
in  sight  in  passing  along  the  slopes  of  the  U])per  City.  The  Macca- 
bean  rule  had  l^een  preceded  l)y  that  of  corruj)t  High-Priests,  wdio 
had  prostituted  their  office  to  the  vilest  puri)oses.  One  of  them,  who 
had  changed  his  Jewish  name  of  Joshua  into  Jason,  had  gone  so  tVir, 
in  his  attempts  to  Grecianise  the  people,  as  to  l)uild  a  Hippodrome  and 
Gymnasium  for  heathen  games.  We  infer,  it  stood  where  the  West- 
ern hill  sloped  into  the  Tyropoeon,  to  the  south-west  of  the  Temijle." 
It  was  probably  tliis  which  Herod  afterwards  enlarged  and  beautified, 
and  turned  into  a  theatre.  Xo  expense  was  spared  on  the  great  games 
held  there.  The  theatre  itself  was  magnificently  adorned  with  gold, 
silver,  precious  stones,  and  trophies  of  arms  and  records  of  the  victories 
of  Augustus.  But  to  the  Jews  this  essentially  heathen  place,  over  against 
their  Temple,  was  cause  of  deep  indignation  and  plots.'  Besides  this 
theatre,  Herod  also  built  an  imn^ense  am])hitheatre,  wiiich  we  must 
locate  somewhere  in  the  north-west,  and  outside  the  second  city  wall.*' 

All  this  was  Jerusalem  above  ground.     But  there  was  an  under- 
'  Compare  liere  irpiierally  Unrnh,  D.  alte  Jerusalem. 


THE   MPJTROPOLIS   OF   JUDAISM.  II9 

jj:r(iuii(l  Jerusalem  also,  which  burrowed  evervwh(>rc  under  the  city —     chat*. 
under  the  Tapper  City,  under  the  'renii)le,  beyond  the  city  walls.     Its  ' 

extent  may  be  gathered  tVoni  the  eircumstanee  that,  after  the  capture   ^     ~'''     ' 
of  the  city,  besides  the  living  who  had  sought  shelter  there,  no  fewer 
than  2,000  dead  l)odies  were  found  in  those  subterranean  streets. 

Close  by  the  tracks  of  heathenism  in  Jerusalem,  and  in  sharp 
contrast,  was  what  gave  to  Jerusalem  its  intensely  Jewish  character. 
It  was  not  only  the  Temple,  nor  the  festive  i)ilgrims  to  its  feasts  and 
services.  l>ut  there  were  hundreds' of  Synagogues,'  some  for  different  " 
nationalities — such  as  the  Alexandrians,  or  the  Cyrenians:  some  for, 
or  perhaps  founded  by,  certain  trade-guilds.  If  possible,  the  Jewish 
schools  were  even  more  numerous  than  the  Synagogues.  Then  there 
were  the  many  Rab1)inic  Academies  ;  and,  l)esides,  you  miglit  also  see 
in  Jerusalem  that  mysterious  sect, the  Essenes,  of  which  the  members 
were  easily  recognized  by  their  white  dress.  Essenes,  Pharisees,  stranger 
Jews  of  all  hues,  and  of  many  dresses  and  languages!  One  could  have 
inuigined  himself  almost  in  another  world,  a  sort  of  enchanted  land, 
in  this  Jewish  metropolis,  and  metropolis  of  Judaism.  When  the 
silver  trumpets  of  the  Priests  Avoke  the  city  to  prayer,  or  the  strain 
of  Levite  music  swept  over  it,  or  the  smoke  of  the  sacritices  hung 
like  another  Shekhinah  over  the  Temple,  against  the  green  background 
of  Olivet;  or  when  in  every  street,  court,  and  housetop  rose  the  booths 
at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  and  at  night  the  sheen  of  the  Temple 
illumination  threw  long  fantastic  shadows  over  the  city;  or  when,  at 
the  Passover,  tens  of  thousands  crowded  up  the  Mount  with  their 
Paschal  lambs,  and  hundreds  of  thousands  sat  down  to  the  Paschal 
supper — it  would  be  almost  difficult  to  believe,  that  heathenism  was 
so  near,  that  the  Roman  was  virtually,  and  would  soon  be  really, 
nmster  of  the  land,  or  that  a  Herod  occupied  the  Jewish  throne. 

Yet  there  he  was;  in  the  pride  of  his  power,  and  the  reckless 
cruelty  of  his  ever-watchful  tyranny.  Evei-ywhere  was  his  mark. 
Temples  to  the  gods  and  to  Ca:'sar,  magniticent,  and  magnificently 
adorned,  outside  Palestine  and  in  its  non-Jewish  cities;  towns  re- 
built or  built:  Sebaste  for  the  ancient  Samaria,  the  splendid  city  and 
harl)our  o\'  Ca^sarea  in  the  west,  Antipafris  (after  his  father)  in  the 
north,   Kypros  and   Pltasaelis  (after   his   mother  and   brother),  and 

'  Tradition  exaggerates  their  munber  men  were  sufficient  to  form  a  Synagogue, 

as  4()0  (.Jer.  Ketlmi).  35  c.)  or  even  480  and   liow    many — wliat     may   be   called 

(Jer.    Meg.   73  d).    But  even  the   large  '  private ' — Synagogues  exist  at  present 

number  (proportionally  to  tbe  size  of  the  in  every  town  .where  tliere  is  a  large  and 

city)    nu^ntioned   in    tlie   text   need   not  orthodox  Jewish  population, 
surprise  us  when  we  remember  that  ten 


1  •_><) 


FIJOM    BP]THLEIIEM    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
TI 


"  Baba  B. 
3  6 

!■  Bern  id. 
R.  14 


Agrippvioii :  iincouquerablo  tbi-trcsses,sucli  as  Essebonifis  and  Machui- 
nis  in  l\'ici'a,  Alexandreion,  Herodeion,  Hyrcania,  and  Masada  in 
J  udaaa — proclaimed  his  name  and  sway.  But  in  Jerusalem  it  seemed  as 
if  he  had  gathered  up  all  his  strength.  The  theatre  and  amphitheatre 
spoke  of  his  Grecianism;  Antonia  was  the  representative  fortress;  for 
his  religi(ni  he  had  built  that  glorious  Temple,  and  for  his  residence 
the  noblest  of  palaces,  at  the  north-western  angle  of  the  Ujjper  City, 
close  by  wliere  Milo  had  been  in  the  days  of  David.  It  seems 
almost  incivdible,  that  a  Herod  should  have  reared  the  Temple,  and 
yet  we  can  understand  his  motives.  Jewish  tradition  had  it,  that  a 
Rabbi  (Baba  ben  Buta)  had  advised  him  in  this  manner  to  conciliate 
the  people,'  or  else  thereby  to  expiate  the  slaughter  of  so  many 
Rabbis.'''  Probably  a  desire  to  gain  popularity,  and  superstition, 
may  alike  have  contributed,  as  also  the  wish  to  gratify  his  love  for 
si)lendour  and  building.  At  the  same  time,  he  may  have  wished  to 
show  himself  a  better  Jew  than  that  rabble  of  Pharisees  and  Rabbis, 
who  perpetually  would  cast  it  in  his  teeth,  that  he  was  an  Idumsean. 
Whatever  his  origin,  he  was  a  true  king  of  the  Jews — as  great,  nay 
greater,  than  Solomon  hiiiiself.  Certainly,  neither  labour  nor  money 
had  been  spared  on  the  Temple.  A  thousand  vehicles  carried  up  the 
stone;  -10,000  workmen,  under  the  guidance  of  1,000  priests,  wrought 
all  the  costly  material  gathered  into  that  house,  of  which  Jewish 
tradition  could  say,  'He  that  has  not  seen  the  Temple  of  Herod, 
has  never  known  what  beauty  is."^  And  yet  Israel  despised  and 
abhorred  the  builder!  Nor  could  his  apparent  work  for  the  God  of 
Israel  have  deceived  the  most  credulous.  In  youth  he  had  browbeaten 
the  venerable  Sanhedrin,  and  threatened  the  city  with  slaughter  and 
destruction;  again  and  again  had  he  murdered  her  venerable  sages; 
he  had  shed  like  water  the  blood  of  her  Asmonean  princes,  and  of 
every  one  who  dared  to  be  free;  had  stilled  every  national  aspiration 
in  the  groans  of  the  torture,  and  (luenchod  it  in  the  gore  of  his  victinis. 
Not  once,  nor  twice, but  six  times  did  he  change  the  High-Priesthood, 
to  bestow  it  at  last  on  one  who  bears  no  good  name  in  Jewish  theology, 
a  foreigner  in  Judaea,  an  Alexandrian.  And  yet  the  powei-  of  that 
Idumjean  was  but  of  vesterdav,  and  of  mushroom  growth! 


'  Tile  occasion  is  siiid  to  have  bfeii. 
that  tlie  Mabljis,  in  answer  to  Herod's 
question,   quoted  Deut.  xvii,   15.     Baba 


ben  Buta  himself  is  sui<i  to  iia\e  escaped 
the  slaujiiiter,  indeed.  l)nt  to  liave  been 
deprived  of  his  eyes. 


FAILURE   OF   THE   MACCABEES.  121 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  PERSONAL  HISTORY  OF  HEROD — THE  TWO  WORLDS  IN  JERUSALEM. 

It  is  an  intoiisely  painful  liistory,^  in  the  course  of  which  Herod  made  CHAP, 
his  way  to  the  thi-one.  We  look  back  nearly  two  and  a  half  centuries  n 
to  where,  with  the  empire  ot  Alexander,  Palestine  fell  to  his  sue-  "-^-r^^ 
cessors.  For  nearly  a  century  and  a  half  it  continued  the  battle-field 
of  the  Egyptian  and  Syrian  kings  (the  Ptolemies  and  the  Seleucidae). 
At  last  it  was  a  corrupt  High-Pric^sthood — with  which  virtually  the 
government  of  the  land  had  all  along  lain — that  betrayed  Israel's 
precious  trust.  The  great-grandson  of  so  noble  a  figure  in  Jewish 
history  as  Simon  the  Just  (compare  Ecclus.  1. )  bought  from  the  Syrians 
the  High-Priestly  office  of  his  brother,  adopted  the  heathen  name 
Jason,  and  sought  to  Grecianise  the  people.  The  sacred  oflice  fell^  if 
l)ossible,  even  lower  when,  through  bribery,  it  was  transferred  to  his 
l)r()ther  Menelaus.  Then  followed  the  brief  jieriod  of  the  terrible 
persecutions  of  Antiochus  Epiphancs,  when  Judaism  was  all  but  exter- 
minated in  Palestine.  The  glorious  uprising  of  the  Maccabees  called 
forth  all  the  national  elements  left  in  Israel,  and  kindled  afresh  the 
smouldering  religious  feeling.  It  seemed  like  a  revival  of  Old  Testa- 
ment times.  And  when  Judas  the  Maccabee,  with  a  band  so  inferior 
in  numlx'rs  and  discipline,  defeated  the  best  of  the  Syrian  soldiery, 
led  by  its  ablest  generals,  and,  on  the  anniversary  of  its  desecration 
by  heathen  rites,  set  up  again  the  great  altar  of  burnt-offering,  it 
a]ii)eare(l  as  if  a  new  Theocracy  were  to  be  inaugurated.  The  cere- 
monial of  that  feast  of  the  new  *  dedication  of  the  Temple,'  when  each 
.light  the  inimber  of  lights  grew  larger  in  the  winter's  darkness,  seemed 
symbolic  of  what  was  before  Israel.  But  the  Maccabees  were  not  the 
Messiali;  nor  yet  the  Kingdom,  which  their  sword  would  have  restored 
— that  of  Heaven,  with  its  blessings  and  ])eace.  If  ever,  Israel  might 
then  have  learned  what  Saviour  to  look  for. 

The  period  even  of  promise  was  more  brief  than  might  have  been 
expected.     The  fervour  and  purity  of  the  movement  ceased  almost 

'  For  a  fuller  sketcli  of  tliis  history  see  Appendix  IV. 


122 


FROM    BETHLEHEM   T(J   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 


« Com  p. 
1  Mace.  vi. 
81 


with  its  success.  It  was  certainly  never  the  golden  age  of  Israel — 
not  even  among  those  who  remained  i'aithlul  to  its  God — which  those 
seem  to  imagine  who,  forgetful  of  its  history  and  contests,  would  trace 
to  it  so  much  that  is  most  precious  and  spiritual  in  the  Old  Testa- 
ment. It  may  have  been  the  pressure  of  circumstances,  but  it  was 
anything  but  a  pious,  or  even  a  '  happy "  thought  •  of  Judas  the 
Maccabee,  to  seek  the  alliance  of  the  Romans.  From  their  entrance 
on  the  scene  dates  the  decline  of  Israel's  national  cause.  For  a  time, 
indeed — though  after  varying  fortunes  of  war — all  seemed  prosi)erous. 
The  Maccabees  became  both  High-Priests  and  Kings.  But  ]iarty- 
strife  and  worldliness,  ambition  and  corruption,  and  Grecianism  on 
the  throne,  soon  brought  their  sequel  in  the  decline  of  moi^ale  and 
vigour,  and  led  to  the  decay  and  decadence  of  the  Maccabean  house. 
It  is  a  story  as  old  as  the  Old  Testament,  and  as  wide  as  the  history 
of  the  world.  Contention  for  the  throne  among  the  Maccabees  led  to 
the  interference  of  the  foreigner.  When,  after  capturing  Jerusalem, 
and  violating  the  sanctity  of  the  Temple,  although  not  plundering  its 
treasures,  Pompey  placed  Hyrcanus  II.  in  possession  of  the  High- 
Priesthood,  the  last  of  the  Maccabean  rulers  ^  was  virtually  shorn  of 
power.  The  country  was  now  trilnitary  to  Rome,  and  subject  to  the 
Governor  of  Syria.  Even  the  shadow  of  political  power  passed  from 
the  feeble  hands  of  Hyrcanus  when,  shortly  afterwards,  Gabinius  (one 
of  the  Roman  governors)  divided  the  land  into  five  districts,  inde- 
pendent of  each  other. 

But  already  a  person  had  appeared  on  the  stage  of  Jewish  affairs, 
who  was  to  give  them  their  last  decisive  turn.  About  fifty  years 
before  this,  the  district  of  Idumaea  had  been  conquered  by  the  Mac- 
cabean King  H3Tcanus  I.,  and  its  inhabitants  forced  to  adopt  Judaism. 
By  this  Idumaea  we  are  not,  however,  to  understand  the  ancient  or 
Eastern  Edom,  which  was  now  in  the  hands  of  the  Nal^ataeans,  but 
parts  of  Southern  Palestine  which  the  Edomites  had  occupied  since 
the  Babylonian  Exile,  and  esj^ecially  a  small  district  on  the  northern 
and  eastern  boundary  of  Judaea,  and  below  Samaria."  After  it  became 
Judaean,  its  administration  was  entrusted  to  a  governor.  In  the  reign 
of  the  last  of  the  Maccabees  this  office  devolved  on  one  Antipater,  a 
1  .an  of  equal  cunning  and  determination.  He  successfully  interfered 
in  the  unhappy  dispute  for  the  crown,  which  was  at  last  decided  by 
the  sword  of  Pompey.  Antipater  took  the  part  of  the  utterly  weak 
Hyrcanus  in  that  contest  with  his  energetic  brother  Aristobulus.     He 


'  So  Sckiirer  in  his  Neutestam.  Zeit- 
gesch. 


■■^  A  table  (if  the  Maccabean  and  Hero- 
(lian  faniiiie.^  l.s  .a;iven  in  Appendl.x  VI. 


RISE   OF   THE   FAMILY    UF   UEKUD.  '  123 

soon  became  the  virtual  ruler,  and  Ilyreanus  II.  only  a  puppet  in  his 
hands.  From  the  accession  of  Judas  Maccabaeus,  in  166  B.C.,  to  the 
year  63  B.C.,  when  Jerusalem  was  taken  by  Pompey,  only  about  a 
century  had  elapsed.  Other  twenty-four  years,  and  the  last  of  the 
Maccabees  had  given  i)lace  to  the  son  of  Antipater:  Herod,  snrnaraed 
the  Great. 

The  settlement  of  Pompey  did  not  prove  lasting.  Aristobulus,  the 
brother  and  defeated  rival  of  Hy rcanus,  was  still  alive,  and  his  sons 
were  even  more  energetic  than  he.  The  risings  attempted  by  them, 
the  interference  of  the  Parthians  on  behalf  of  those  who  Avere  hostile 
to  Rome,  and,  lastly,  the  contentions  for  supremacy  in  Rome  itself, 
made  this  period  one  of  confusion,  turmoil,  and  constant  warfare  in 
Palestine.  When  Pompey  was  finally  defeated  by  Caesar,  the  pros- 
pects of  Antipater  and  Hyrcanus  seemed  dark.  But  they  quickly 
changed  sides;  and  timely  help  given  to  Caesar  in  Egypt  brought  to 
Antipater  the  title  of  Procurator  of  Judasa,  while  Hyrcanus  was  left 
in  the  High-Priesthood,  and,  at  least,  nominal  head  of  the  people.  The 
two  sons  of  Antipater  were  now  made  governors:  the  elder,  Phasaelus, 
of  Jerusalem;  the  younger,  Herod,  only  twentj^-five  years  old,  of 
Galilee.  Here  he  displayed  the  energy  and  determination  which 
were  his  characteristics,  in  crushing  a  guerilla  warfare,  of  Avhich  the 
deeper  springs  were  probably  nationalist.  The  execution  of  its 
leader  brought  Herod  a  summons  to  appear  before  the  Great  San- 
hedrin  of  Jerusalem,  for  having  arrogated  to  himself  the  power  of 
life  and  death.  He  came,  but  arrayed  in  purple,  surrounded  i)y  a 
body-guard,  and  supported  by  the  express  direction  of  the  Roman 
Governor  to  Hyrcanus,  that  he  was  to  be  acquitted.  Even  so  he 
would  have  fallen  a  victim  to  the  apprehensions  of  the  Sanhedrin — 
only  too  well  grounded — had  he  not  been  persuaded  to  withdraw  from 
the  city.  He  returned  at  the  head  of  an  army,  and  was  with  difficulty 
persuaded  by  his  father  to  spare  Jerusalem.  Meantime  Caesar  had 
named  him  Governor  of  Coelesyria. 

On  the  murder  of  Caesar,  and  the  possession  of  Syria  by  Cassius, 
Antipater  and  Herod  again  changed  sides.  But  they  rendered  such 
substantial  service  as  to  secure  favour,  and  Herod  was  continued  in 
the  position  conferred  on  him  by  Caesar.  Antipater  was,  indeed, 
poisoned  by  a  rival,  but  his  sons  Herod  and  Phasaelus  repressed  and 
extinguished  all  opi)osition.  When  the  battle  of  Philippi  placed  the 
Roman  world  in  the  hands  of  Antony  and  Octavius,  the  former 
obtained  Asia.  Once  more  the  Idumaeans  knew  how  to  gain  the  new 
ruler,   and  Phasaelus  and  Herod  were  named  Tetrarchs  of  Judaea. 


124  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK      Afterwards,  when  Antony  was  held  in  the  toils  of  Cleopatra,  matters 
"         seemed,  indeed,  to  assume  a  diflerent  aspect.     The  Parthiansentere<l 

' 'c — '   the  land,  in  support  of  the  rival  Maccabean  prince  Antigonus,  the  son 

of  Aristobulus.  By  treachery,  Phasaelus  and  Hyrcanus  were  induced 
to  go  to  the  Parthian  camp,  and  made  captives.  Phasaelus  shortly 
afterwards  destroyed  himself  in  his  prison,'  while  Hyrcanus  was  de- 
prived of  his  ears,  to  unfit  him  for  the  High-Priestly  office.  And  so 
Antigonus  for  a  short  time  succeeded  both  to  the  High-Priesthood  and 
royalty  in  Jerusalem.  Meantime  Herod,  who  had  in  vain  warned 
his  brother  and  Hyrcanus  against  the  Parthian,  had  been  able  to 
make  his  escape  from  Jerusalem.  His  family  he  left  to  the  defence 
of  his  brother  Joseph,  in  the  inaccessible  fortress  of  Masada;  himself 
tied  into  Arabia,  and  finally  made  his  way  to  Rome.  There  he  suc- 
ceeded, not  (jnly  with  Antony,  but  obtained  the  consent  of  Octavius, 
and  was  ])roclaimed  by  the  Senate  King  of  Judaea.  A  sacrifice  on  the 
('ai)itol,  and  a  banquet  by  Antony,  celebrated  the  accession  of  the  new 
successor  of  David. 

But  he  had  yet  to  conquer  his  kingdom.  At  first  he  made  way 
by  the  help  of  the  Romans.  Such  success,  however,  as  he  had  gained, 
was  more  than  lost  during  his  ])rief  absence  on  a  visit  to  Antony. 
Joseph,  the  brother  of  Herod,  was  defeated  and  slain,  and  Galilee, 
which  had  been  subdued,  revolted  again.  But  the  aid  which  the 
Romans  rendered,  after  Herod's  return  from  Antony,  was  much  more 
liearty,  and  his  losses  were  more  than  retrieved.  Soon  all  Palestine, 
with  the  exception  of  Jerusalem,  was  in  his  hands.  While  laying 
siege  to  it,  he  went  to  Samaria,  there  to  wed  the  l)eautiful  Maccabean 
princess  Mariamme,  who  had  been  betrothed  to  him  five  years  before.^ 
That  ill-fated  Queen,  and  her  elder  brother  Aristobulus,  united  in 
themselves  the  two  rival  branches  of  the  Maccabean  family.  Their 
father  was  Alexander,  the  eldest  son  of  Aristobulus,  and  brother  of 
that  Antigonus  whom  Herod  now  besieged  in  Jerusalem;  and  their 
mother,  Alexandra,  the  daughter  of  Hyrcanus  II.  The  uncle  of 
Mariamme  was  not  long  able  to  hold  out  against  the  combined  forces 
of  Rome  and  Herod.  The  carnage  was  terrible.  When  Herod,  by 
rich  presents,  at  length  induced  the  Romans  to  leave  Jerusalem,  they 
took  Antigonus  with  them.     By  desire  of  Herod  he  was  executed. 

This  was  the  first  of  the  Maccabees  who  fell  victim  to  his  jealousy 
and  cruelty.  Tlu^  history  which  now  follows  is  one  of  sickening  car- 
nage.    The  next  to  experience  his  vengeance  were  the  principal  ad- 

'  By  dashing  out   his  V)rains  against      one  Doris,  \\w  issue  of  the  marriage  be- 
tlie  prison  walls.  ing  a  son,  Antipater. 

''■  He  had  pre\iousIy  been  married  to 


INTRIGUES   IN   THE   FAMILY  OF   HEROD.  12:') 

heronts  in  Jerusalem  of  his  rival  Antigonus.  Forty-tive  of  the  noblest  CHAP. 
and  richest  were  executed.  His  next  step  was  to  a])point  an  obscure  ll 
liabylonian  to  the  Hig-h-Priesthood.  This  awakened  the  active  '^— ^r — 
hostility  of  Alexandra,  the  mother  of  Mariamme,  Herod's  wife.  The 
Maccabean  princess  claimed  the  High-Priesthood  for  her  son  Aristo- 
l)ulus.  Her  intrigues  with  Cleopatra — and  through  her  with  Antony 
— and  the  entreaties  of  Mariamme,  the  only  being  whom  Herod  loved, 
though  in  his  own  mad  way,  prevailed.  At  the  age  of  seventeen 
Aristobulus  Avas  made  High-Priest.  But  Herod,  who  well  knew  the 
hatred  and  contempt  of  the  Maccabean  members  of  his  family,  had 
his  mother-in-law  watched,  a  precaution  increased  after  the  vain 
attempt  of  Alexandra  to  have  herself  and  her  son  removed  in  coffins 
from  Jerusalem,  to  flee  to  Cleopatra.  Soon  the  jealousy  and  suspicions 
of  Herod  were  raised  to  murderous  madness,  by  the  acclamations 
which  greeted  the  young  Aristobulus  at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles.  So 
dangerous  a  Maccabean  rival  must  be  got  rid  of;  and,  by  secret  order 
of  Herod,  Aristobulus  was  drowned  while  bathing.  His  mother 
denounced  the  murderer,  and  her  influence  with  Cleopatra,  who  also 
hated  Herod,  led  to  his  being  summoned  before  Antony,  Once  more 
l)ribery,  indeed,  prevailed  ;  but  other  troubles  awaited  Herod. 

When  oljcying  the  summons  of  Antony,  Herod  had  committed 
I  he  government  to  his  uncle  Joseph,  who  was  also  his  brother-in-law, 
having  wedded  Salome,  the  sister  of  Herod.  His  mad  jealousy  had 
prompted  him  to  direct  that,  in  case  of  his  condemnation,  Mariamme 
was  to  be  killed,  that  she  might  not  become  the  wife  of  another. 
Unfortunately,  Joseph  told  this  to  Mariamme,  to  show  how  much  she 
was  loved.  But  on  the  return  of  Herod,  the  infamous  Salome 
accused  her  old  husband  of  impropriety  with  Mariamme.  When  it 
appeared  that  Joseph  had  told  the  Queen  of  his  commission,  Herod, 
regarding  it  as  confirming  his  sister's  charge,  ordered  him  to  be 
executed,  without  even  a  hearing.  External  complications  of  the 
gravest  kind  now  sui)ervened.  Herod  had  to  cede  to  Cleopatra  the 
districts  of  Phocnice  and  Philistia,  and  that  of  Jericho  with  its  rich 
balsam  plantations.  Then  the  dissensions  between  Antony  and 
Octavius  involved  him,  in  the  cause  of  the  former,  in  a  war  with 
Arabia,  whose  king  had  failed  to  pay  tribute  to  Cleopatra.  Herod 
was  victorious;  but  he  had  now  to  reckon  with  another  master.  The 
battle  of  Actiunr'  decided  the  fate  of  Antony,  and  Herod  had  to  "aiis.c. 
make  his  peace  with  Octavius.  Happily,  he  was  al)le  to  do  good 
service  to  the  new  cause,  ere  presenting  himself  before  Augustus. 
But,  in  order  to  be  secure  from  all  possible  rivals,  he  had  the  aged 
Hyrcanus  II.   executed,  on  pretence  of  intrigues  with  the  Arabs. 


126  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

IJOOK      Herod  was  Kuccessl'iil   with  Augustus;    and  when,    in   the  following 
H         suiuuier,  he  i'urnished  hiui  supplies  on  his  march  to  Egypt,  he  was 

'^- — ~, rewarded  by  a  substantial  addition  of  territory. 

When  about  to  appear  before  Augustus,  Herod  had  entrusted  to 
one  Soenius  the  charge  of  Mariainnie,  with  the  same  fatal  directions 
as  formerly  to  Joseph.  Again  Mariamme  learnt  the  secret;  again 
the  old  calumnies  were  raised — this  time  not  only  by  Salome,  but 
also  by  K^pros,  Herod's  mother;  and  again  Herod  imagined  he  had 
found  corroborative  evidence.  Soemus  was  slain  without  a  hearing, 
and  the  beautiful  Mariamme  executed  after  a  mock  trial.  The  most 
fearful  paroxysm  of  remorse,  passion,  and  longing  for  his  murdered 
wife  now  seized  the  tyrant,  and  brought  him  to  the  brink,  of  the 
grave.  Alexandra,  the  mother  of  Mariannne,  deemed  the  moment 
favorable  for  her  plots — but  she  was  discovered,  and  executed.  Of 
the  Maccabean  race  there  now  remained  only  distant  members,  the 
sons  of  Babas,  who  had  found  an  asylum  with  Costobarus,  the 
Governor  of  Iduma^a,  who  had  wedded  Salome  after  the  death  of  her 
tirst  husband.  Tired  of  him,  as  she  had  been  of  Joseph,  Salome 
denounced  her  second  husband  ;  and  Costobarus,  as  well  as  the  sons 
of  Babas,  fell  victims  to  Herod.  Thus  perished  the  family  of  the 
Maccabees. 

The  hand  of  the  maddened  tyrant  was  next  turned  against  his 
own  family.  Of  his  ten  wives,  we  mention  only  those  whose  children 
occupy  a  i)lace  in  this  history.  The  son  of  Doris  was  Antipater; 
those  of  the  Maccabean  Mariamme,  Alexander  and  Aristobulus; 
another  Mariamme,  whose  father  Herod  had  made  High-Priest,  bore 
him  a  son  named  Herod  (a  name  which  other  of  the  sons  shared); 
Malthake,  a  Samaritan,  was  the  mother  of  Archelaus  and  Herod 
Antipas;  and,  lastly,  Cleopatra  of  Jerusalem  bore  Philip.  The  sons 
of  the  Maccabean  princess,  as  heirs  presumptive,  were  sent  to  Rome 
for  their  education.  On  this  occasion  Herod  received,  as  reward 
for  many  services,  the  country  east  of  the  Jordan,  and  was  allowed  to 
appoint  his  still  remaining  brother,  Pheroras,  Tetrarch  of  Peraea.  On 
their  return  from  Rome  tlie  young  princes  were  married  :  Alexander  to 
a  daughter  of  tlie  King  of  Cappadocia,  and  Aristol)ulus  to  his  cousin 
Berenice,  the  daughter  of  Salome.  But  neither  kinship,  nor  the  yet 
nearer  relation  in  which  Aristobulus  now  stood  to  her,  could  extin- 
guish the  hatred  of  Salome  towards  the  dead  Maccalx'an  i)rincess  or 
her  children.  Nor  did  the  young  princes,  in  their  pride  of  descent, 
disguise  their  feelings  towards  the  house  of  their  father.  At  first, 
Herod  gave  not  heed  to  the  denunciations  of  his  sister.  Presently  he 
yielded  to  vague  a])preliensions.      As  a  first  step,  Antipater,  the  son 


LAST  ti;a(;i<;i)Ii;s  of  iikijods  keicx.  12t 

of  Doris,  w;is   rccallcMl   Irom   exile,  imd   sent   to    IJoiiie  lor  education.      CIIAI'. 
So  tlie  l)rea('li  Ix'cauie  open;   and  Herod  took  lii.s  sous  t(j  Italy,  to  lay  H 

Ibrnial  aeeiisatioii  against  tiieni  hetbrc  Augustus.  The  wise  counsels  - — ~^''' — ' 
of  the  Eiiil)eror  restored  i)eaee  lor  a  time.  But  Antipater  hoav  re- 
turned to  ralestine,  and  joined  his  calumnies  to  those  of  Salome. 
Once  more  the  King  of  Cappadocia  succeeded  in  reconciling  Herod 
and  his  sons.  l>ut  in  the  end  the  intrigues  of  Salome,  Antipater,  and 
of  an  infamous  foreigner  who  had  made  his  way  at  Court,  i)revailed. 
Alexandei-  and  Aristobulus  were  imprisoned,  and  an  accusation  of 
high  treason  laid  against  them  before  the  Emperor.  Augustus  gave 
llerod  full  powers,  but  advised  the  convocation  of  a  mixed  tribunal 
of  Jews  and  Romans  to  try  the  case.  As  might  have  been  expected, 
the  two  princes  Avere  condemned  to  death,  and  when  some  old  soldiers 
ventured  to  intercede  for  them,  300  of  the  supposed  adherents  of  the 
cause  were  cut  down,  and  the  two  princes  strangled  in  prison.  This 
happened  in  Samaria,  where,  thirty  years  before,  Ilerod  had  wedded 
their  ill-fated  mother. 

Antipater  was  now  the  heir  presumi)tive.  But,  imi)atient  of  the 
throne,  he  plotted  with  Herod's  brother,  Pheroras,  against  his  father. 
Again  Salome  denounced  her  nepliew  and  her  brother.  Antipater 
withdrew  to  Rome;  but  when,  after  the  death  of  Pheroras,  Herod 
obtained  indubitable  evidence  that  his  son  had  plotted  against  his 
'ife,  he  lured  Antipater  to  Palestine,  where  on  his  arrival  he  was 
cast  into  prison.  All  that  was  needed  was  the  permission  of  Augustus 
for  his  execution.  It  arrived,  and  was  carried  out  only  five  days 
before  the  death  of  Herod  himself.  So  ended  a  reign  almost  unparal- 
leled for  reckless  cruelty  and  bloodshed,  in  which  the  murder  of  the 
Innocents  in  Bethlehem  formed  but  so  trilling  an  ei)isode  among  the 
many  deeds  of  blood,  as  to  have  seemed  not  deserving  of  record  on 
the  page  of  the  Jewish  historian. 

But  we  can  understand  the  feelings  of  the  people  towards  such  a 
King.  They  hated  the  Idumaean;  they  detested  his  semi-heathen 
reign;  they  abhorred  his  deeds  of  cruelty.  The  King  had  surrounded 
himself  Avith  foreign  councillors,  and  was  protected  by  foreign  mer- 
cenaries from  Thracia,  Germany,  and  Gaul. "  So  long  as  he  lived,  ru)  ^^;';"  ^'?/- 
woman's  honour  was  safe,  no  man's  life  secure.  An  army  ot  all- 
powerful  spies  pervaded  Jerusalem — nay,  the  King  himself  was  said 
to  stoop  to  that  office.  ^'  If  pique  or  private  enmity  led  to  denuncia-  ;__Ant.  xv. 
tion,  the  torture  would  extract  any  confession  from  the  most  innocent. 
What  his  relation  to  Judaism  had  l)een,  may  easily  be  inferred.  He 
would  be  a  Jew — even  build  the  Temi)le,  advocate  the  cause  of  the 
Jews  in  other  lands,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  conform  to  the  Law  of 


10.  4 


]28  Vium    BETIILKIIEM    TO   JORDAN. 

I'.ooK      .liidaisiii.     Ill  hiiildinji,"  the  Teini)lc,   he  was  so  anxious  to  conciliate 
II  national   ])rcju(lice,  that  the  Sanctuary  itself  was   entrusted  to  the 

' — '         worknninslii|)   of  |)i'iests  only.      Nor  did  he   ever   intrude   into  the 
Holy  Phice,  nor  interfere  with  any  functions  of  the  priesthood.     None 
of  his  coins  bear  devices  which  could  have  shocked  popular  feeling, 
nor  did  any  of  the  l)uildings  he  erected  in  Jerusalem  exhil)it  any  for- 
bidden eniblenis.     The  Sanhcdrin  did  exist  during  his  reign,  'though 
it  must  have  been  shorn  of  all  real  power,  and  its  activity  confined  to 
ecclesiastical,    or  semi-ecclesiastical,   causes.     Strangest   of  all,    he 
seems  to  have  had  at  least  the  passive  support  of  two  of  the  greatest 
•  Ant.  xiv.     Rabbis — the  Pollio  and  Sanieas  of  Josephus" — supposed  to  represent 
i'  10. 4         those  great  figures  in  Jewish   tradition,  Abtalion   and  Sheniajah.  ''■•' 
^Aii.  1, 10,     ^^y^,  (,,jj^  ju^^  conjecture,  that  they  preferred  even  his  rule  to  what  had 
l)receded;   and  ho])e(l  it  might  lead  to  a  Roman  Protectorate,  which 
would  leave  Judiva  practically  independent,  or  rather  under  Rabbinic 
I'ulc 

It  was  also  under  the  government  of  Herod,  that  Hillel  and 
Shammai  lived  and  taught  in  Jerusalem:^  the  two,  whom  tradition 
cEdiLiM.  4  designates  as  'the  fathers  of  old.'''  Both  gave  their  names  to 
'  schools, '  whose  direction  was  generally  difterent — not  unfrequently, 
it  seems,  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  opposition.  But  it  is  not  correct  to 
describe  the  former  as  consistently  the  more  liberal  and  mild.  *  The 
teaching  of  both  was  supposed  to  have  been  declared  by  the  'Voice 
from  Heaven'  {tJte  JkitJi-(Jol)  as  'the  words  of  the  living  God;  '  yet 
"jer.Ber.     the  Luw  was  to  bc  henceforth  according  to  the  teaching  of  Hillel." 

3  ''   lines  3  ... 

and  2  from  But  to  US  Hillcl  IS  SO  intensely  interesting,  not  merely  as  the  mild 
and  gentle,  nor  only  as  the  earnest  student  who  came  from  Babylon 
to  learn  in  the  Academies  of  Jerusalem;  who  would  support  his 
family  on  a  third  of  his  scanty  wages  as  a  day  labourer,  that  he  might 
l)ay  for  entrance  into  the  schools;  and  whose  zeal  and  merits  were 
only  discovered  when,  after  a  severe  night,  in  which,  from  poverty,  he 
had  been  unable  to  gain  admittance  into  the  Academy,  his  bemiinbed 
form  was  taken  down  from  the  window-sill,  to  which  he  had  crept  u]) 

"  Conip.  tlie  (lirifiLssioii  of  this  (lue^tioii  ivnd  so  in  the  end   the  name  of  Tiod  be 

in  Wieseler,  Beitr.  pp.  215  Ac.  profaned.' 

'^  Even    their    recorded    fundamental  -^  On  Hillel  and  Shammai  see  the  arti- 

princijjles  l)ear   this  out.     That  of  She-  cle  in  Ilerzog's  Keal-Encyklop. ;  that  in 

niajali  was  :  •  Love  labour,  hate  lordship.  Ilamhuyr/er's;  Di-lifzsch,  Jesus  u.  Hillel, 

and  do  not  push   forward  to  the  authori-  and  liooks  on  Jewish  history  generally, 

ties.'     That  of  Abtalion  was:   •  Ye  sages,  *A   number  of   ))oints  on  which   the 

be  careful  in  your  words.  lest  perchance  ordinances  of  Hillel   were   more   severe 

ye  incur  Ijanishnient,  and  are  exiled  to  a  than  those  of  Shammai  are  enumerated 

lilace  of   bad  waters,   and   the  disciples  in  Eduj.  iv.  1-12;   v.  1-4;  Ber.  36  a,  end. 

who  follow  you  drink  of  tliem  and  die,  Comp.  also  Ber.  R.  1. 


HILLEL   AND   JESUS.  129 

not  to  lose  aught  of  the  precious  instruction.     And  for  his  sake  did     CIIAP. 
they  gladly  break  on  that  Sabbath  the  sacred  rest.     Nor  do  we  think         ll 
of  him,  as  ti-adition  fables  him-— the  descendant  of  David,"  possessed   ' — ^r — ■ 
of  every  great  (luality  of  body,  mind,  and  heart;  nor  yet  as  the  second  ''^*'''-"-9* 
Ezra,  whose;  learning  placed  him  at  the  head  of  the  Sanhedrin,  Avho 
laid  down  the  i)rincii)les  afterwards  applied  and  developed  ])y  Kab- 
l)inism,  nnd  who  was  the  real  founder  of  traditionalism.     Still  less  do 
we  think  of  him,  as  he  is  lalsely  represented  by  some:  as  he  whose 
princii)les  closely  resemble  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  or,  according  to  cer- 
tain writers,  were  its  source.     By  the  side  of  Jesus  we  think  of  him 
otherwise  than  this.     We  remember  that,  in  his  extreme  old  age  and 
near  his  end,  he  nuiy  have  i)resided  over  that  meeting  of  Sanhedrin 
which,  in  answer  to  lIerod"s  inquiry,  pointed  to  Bethlehem  as  the 
birthplace  of  the  Messiah.'''     AVe  think  of  him  also  as  the  grand-  i>st.  Matt. 
father  of  that  Gamaliel,  at  whose  feet  Saul  of  Tarsus  sat.     And  to  us 
he  is  the  representative  Jewish  reformer,  in  the  spirit  of  those  times, 
and  in  the  sense  of  restoring  rather  than  removing;  while  we  think 
of  Jesus  as  the   Messiah  of  Israel,    in   the   sense   of  bringing   the 
Kingdom  of  God  to  all  men,  and  opening  it  to  all  l)elievers. 

And  so  there  were  two  worlds  in  Jerusalem,  side  l)y  side.  On 
the  one  hand,  was  Grecianism  with  its  theatre  and  amphitheatj'e; 
Ibreigners  tilling  the  Court,  and  crowding  the  city;  foreign  tendencies 
and  ways,  from  the  foreign  King  downwards.  On  the  other  hand, 
was  the  old  Jewish  world,  becoming  now  set  and  ossified  in  the  Schools 
of  Hillel  and  Shanuuai,  and  ovi^rshadowed  l)y  Temple  and  Synagogue. 
And  each  was  pursuing  its  course,  by  the  side  of  the  other.  If  Herod 
had  every wliere  his  spies,  the  Jewish  law  provided  its  two  police  ma- 
gistrates in  Jerusalem,  the  only  Judges  who  received  rcnnmeration.''"  •^Jer. 
If  Herod  judged  cruelly  and    despotically,   the    Sanhedrin   Aveighed  35 ,; 

-    ,. ,'         '  111  •       i-     •  T  <   /-^  Kethub. 

most  deliberately,  the  balance  always  mclin'mg  to  mercy.  It  Greek  104 (^ 
was  the  language  of  the  court  and  cam]i,  and  indeed  nuist  have  been 
understood  and  spoken  by  most  in  the  land,  the  language  of  the 
people,  sj^oken  also  ])y  Christ  and  His  Apostles,  was  a  dialect  of  the 
ancient  Hebrew,  the  Western  or  Palestinian  Aramaic."  It  seems 
strange,  that  this  could  ever  have  been  dcuibted.*     A  Jewish  Messiah 

1  On  theelironolo,2;y  of  tlio  lifo  of  Ilillel  -  Tlie  police  laws  of  the  Ral)l)is  might 

A-c,  see  aUo  Sr/tmi/i/.  Feb.  d.  Eiitsteh.  well  serve  as  a  model   for  all  similar  leg- 

jVc.  (ler  Megillatli  Taaiiith.  esjteeially  )>.  islatioii. 

:'>4.     Hillel  is  said  to  liave  become  ('iiief  '■  At  the  same  time  T  can  scarcely  agree 

of  the  Sanhedrin  in  rSO  K.e..  and  to  have  with  Delitzsch  and  others,  that  this  was 

lield    the  office   for   f(n-t.v   years.    These  the  dialect  called -SV'r.sv'.      The  latter  was 

numl)ers,  however,  are  no  doubt  some-  rather  Syriac.     Comp.  ie?7/,  ad  voc. 

what  exaggerated.  *  Professor  /i\y/(f'/7.s' has  a(lvocated.  with 


130  FKOM    BETIILf:HEM   TO   JORDAN. 

HOOK      Wlio  would  ui'ii-o   His  claiin  uijoii  Israel  in  (ircck,   seems  almost  a 
11          contradiction  in  terms.     Wc  know,  that  the  language  of  the  Temple 

^ . — --'   and  the  Synagogue  was    Hebrew,   and    that   the    addrcr^ses   of  the 

Rabbis  had  to  be  'targumed'  into  the  vernacular  Aramaean — and 
can  we  believe  that,  in  a  Hebrew  service,  the  Messiah  could  have 
risen  to  address  the  i)e(jple  in  Greek,  or  that  He  would  have  argued 
with  the  I'harisees  and  Scribes  iu  that  tongue,  especially  remembering 
that  its  study  was  actually  forbidden  by  the  Ral)l)is?' 

Indeed,  it  was  a  peculiar  mixture  of  two  worlds  in  Jerusalem: 
not  only  of  the  Grecian  and  the  Jewish,  but  of  piety  and  frivolity  also. 
The  devotion  of  the  people  and  tiie  liberality  of  the  rich  were  un- 
bounded. Fortunes  were  lavished  on  the  support  of  Jewish  learning, 
the  promotion  of  i)iety,  or  the  advance  of  the  national  cause. 
Thousands  of  votive  ofterings,  and  the  costly  gifts  in  the  Temple, 
bore  evidence  of  this.  If  priestly  avarice  had  artificially  raised  the 
price  of  sacrificial  animals,  a  rich  man  woidd  bring  into  the  Temple 
at  his  own  cost  the  numl)er  requisite  for  the  poor.  Charity  was  not 
only  open-handed,  but  most  delicate,  and  one  who  had  been  in  good 
circumstances  would  actually  be  enal)led  to  live  according  to  his  former 
station.-  Then  these  Jerusalemites — townspeople,  as  they  called 
themselves — were  so  polished,  so  witty,  so  pleasant.  There  was  a 
tact  in  their  social  intercourse,  and  a  considerateness  and  delicacy  in 
their  public  arrangements  and  provisions,  nowhere  e^lse  to  be  found. 
'Bemid.  R.  Their  very  language  was  different.  There  was  a  Jerusalem  dialect.' 
wai^h.p.  quicker,  shorter,  'lighter'  {Lishna  Qidila)^  And  their  hospitality, 
i  BabaK.  Pspccially  at  festive  seasons,  was  unlimited.  No  one  considered  his 
house  his  own,  and  no  stranger  or  pilgrim  but  found  reception.  And 
how  much  there  was  to  be  seen  and  heard  in  those  luxuriously  fur- 
nished houses,  and  at  those  sumptuous  ent(n'taininents!  In  the 
women's  apartments,  friends  from  the  country  would  see  every  novelty 
in  dress,  adornment,  and  jewellery,  and  have  the  benefit  of  examining 
themselves  in  looking-glasses.  To  be  sure,  as  ])eing  womanish  vanity, 
their  use  was  interdicted  to  men,  except  it  were  to  the  members  of 

{i:i-eat  iiiiieiuiity,  tlie  view  tliat  Clirist  and  .Je.sn,  pp.  4-28;  to  the  latter  work  by  tlie 

His  Apostles  used  the  Greek  iaiisjuaere.  same   writer  (Aittestam.    Citate  im   N. 

See  especially  his  'Discussions  on   the  Test.);  to  a  very  interesting  article  by 

Gospels.'     The  Roman  Catholic  Cliurch  Professor  Bditzsch  in  the  '  Daheim  '  for 

sometimes  maintained,  that    .Jesus  and  1874  (No.   27);    to   Buxforf,  sub  Gelil; 

His  disciples  spoke  Latin,  and  in   1S22  a  to  J.  B.  GohJhpru,   'The   Lauijcuage  of 

work  appeared  l)y  HUirk  to  ju-ove  that  Christ";  but  esi)ecially  to   ti.  de  iiossi, 

the  N.T.Greek  siiowed  a  Latin  ()ri<;:in.  Delia  lingua  ]trop.  di  Cri.sto  (Parma  1772). 
'  For  a  full  statement  of  thearicuuients  '^  Thus  Hillel  was  said  to  have  hired  a 

on  this  sul)ject  we  refer  tlie  student  to  horse,  and  even  an  outrunner,  for  a  de- 

Bofil,   Porsch.  n.  e.    Volk.-;bibel    z.    Zeit  caved  rich  man  ! 


LIFE    AND    SOCIETY    IN    JEIU'SALEM. 


13] 


the  family  of  tlie  rresidont  of  tlic  Sniilicdiin.  on  account  of  their 
intercourse  with  those  in  authority,  just  as  for  the  same  reason  they 
wore  allowed  to  learn  Greek.''  Nor  might  even  women  look  in  the 
glass  on  the  Sabbath.''  But  that  could  only  apply  to  those  carried  in 
the  hand,  since  one  might  be  tempted,  on  the  holy  day,  to  do  such 
servile  work  as  to  pull  out  a  grey  hair  with  the  pincers  attached  t(; 
the  end  of  the  glass;  but  not  to  a  glass  fixed  in  the  lid  of  a  basket:' 
nor  to  such  as  hung  on  the  wall."  And  then  the  lady-visitor  might 
get  anything  in  Jerusalem;  from  a  false  tooth  to  an  Arabian  veil,  a 
Persian  shawl,  or  an  Indian  dress! 

"While  the  women  so  learned  Jerusalem  manners  in  the  inner 
apartments,  the  men  would  converse  on  the  news  of  the  day,  or  on 
politics.  For  the  Jerusalemites  had  friends  and  correspondents  in  the 
most  distant  parts  of  the  world,  and  letters  were  carried  by  special 
messengers,"  in  a  kind  of  post-bag.  Nay,  there  seem  to  have  been 
some  sort  of  receiving-offices  in  towns/  and  even  something  resem- 
bling our  parcel-post.^  And,  strange  as  it  may  sound,  even  a  species 
of  newspapers,  or  broadsheets,  ai)pears  to  have  been  circulating 
{3Iikhtabhin),  not  allowed,  however,  on  the  Sabbath,  unless  they 
treated  of  public  affairs." 

Of  course,  it  is  difficult  accurately  to  determine  which  of  these 
things  were  in  use  in  the  earliest  times,  or  else  introduced  at  a  later 
period.  Perhaps,  however,  it  was  safer  to  bring  them  into  a  picture 
of  Jewish  society.  Undoubted,  and,  alas,  too  painful  evidence  comes 
to  us  of  the  luxuriousness  of  Jerusalem  at  that  time,  and  of  the  moral 
corruption  to  which  it  led.  It  seems  only  too  clear,  that  such  com- 
mentations as  the  Talmud'  gives  of  Is.  iii.  16-24,  in  regard  to  the 
manners  and  modes  of  attraction  practised  by  a  certain  class  of  the 
female  population  in  Jerusalem,  applied  to  a  far  later  period  than  that 
of  the  prophet.  With  this  agrees  only  too  well  the  recorded  covert 
lascivious  expressions  used  by  the  men,  which  gives  a  lamentable 
picture  of  the  state  of  morals  of  many  in  the  city,"  and  the  notices  of 
the  indecent  dress  worn  not  only  by  women,'  but  even  by  corruj)! 
High-Priestly  youths.  Nor  do  the  exaggerated  descriptions  of  what 
the  Midrash  on  Lamentations"'  describes  as  the  dignity  of  the  Jeru- 
salemites; of  the  wealth  which  they  lavished  on  their  marriages;  of 
the  ceremony  which  insisted  on  repeated  invitations  to  the  guests  to 
a  banquet,  and  that  men  inferior  in  rank  should  not  be  bidden  to  it ; 
of  the  dress  in  which  they  appeared;  the  manner  in  which  the  dishes 
were  served,  the  wine  in  white  crystal  vases;  and  the  punishment  of 
the  cook  who  had  failed  in  his  duty,  and  which  was  to  lie  commen- 


CHAP. 
II 


"Jer.Shablp 
7  'I 

•  Shabl.. 
IW  a 


<-■  Kel.  xiv.  (j 

■'  Tos. 

Shabb.  xiii. 
ed. 

Zuckerni. 
11.  130 


'  Shabb.  X. 4 
f  Shabb.  19  « 


s  Eosh 
haSh.  9  6 


■i  Tos. 

Shabb. 

xviii. 


i  Shabb. 
62  l> 


^  Com  p. 
Shabb.  G-Jh, 
last  line 
nnd  first  <ii 
()3  a 

'  Kel.  xxiv. 
16;  xxviU.  S 

»'  On  eh.  iv. 


132 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK  suratc  to  the  digiiitv  ut  the  i)arty — give  a  better  impression  of  the 
II         great  world  iu  Jerusalem. 

— ^ And  yet  it  was  the  City  of  God,  over  whose  destruction  not  only 

the  Patriarch  and  Moses,  but  the  Angelic  hosts — nay,  the  Ahnighty 
Himself  and  His  iShekhinah — had  made  bitterest  lamentation.'  The 
City  of  the  Prophets,  also — since  each  of  them  whose  birthplace  had 

Mog.  i5-(  not  I)een  mentioned,  must  be  reganled  as  having  sprung  from  it." 
f]qually,  even  more,  marked,  but  now  for  joy  and  triumph,  would  be 
tlie  hour  of  Jerusalem's  uprising,  when  it  would  welcome  its  Messiah. 
Oh,  when  would  He  come?  In  the  feverish  excitement  of  expectancy 
they  were  only  too  ready  to  listen  to  the  voice  of  any  pretender,  ho"w- 
cver  coarse  and  clumsy  the  imposture.  Yet  He  was  at  hand — even 
now  coming:  only  quite  otlier  than  the  Messiah  of  their  dreams. 
'  He  came  unto  His  own,  and  His  own  received  Him  not.  But  as 
many  as  received  Him,  to  them  gave  He  power  to  become  children  of 
God,  even  to  them  that  V)elieve  on  HisXame." 

'  See  the  Iiitroductioti  to  tlie  Midrasli      plieinous — that  we   do    not   venture  on 
on    Lamentations.      But    some    of    tlie      (luotation. 
descriptions   are  so   painful — even  bias- 


MOliNlNG   IN   THK   TEMl'LE. 


133 


CHAPTER  Til. 


THE  ANNUNCIATION  OF  ST.  ,IOHN  THE  BAPTIST. 


CHAP. 

Ill 


(St.  Luke  i.  .''.-25.) 

It  was  tlic  time  of  the  Morning  Sacrifice'  As  the  massive  Templc- 
^ates  slowly  swung  on  their  liinges,  a  thrco-tbld  blast  IVom  the  silver 
trumpets  of  the  Priests  seemed  to  waken  the  City,  as  with  the  Voice  ^— -y^"^ 
of  God,  to  the  life  of  another  day.  As  its  echoes  came  in  the  still 
air  across  the  cleft  of  the  Tyroi)oeon,  up  the  slopes  of  the  Upper 
City,  d(jwn  the  busy  quarters  below,  or  away  to  the  new  suburb 
beyond,  they  must,  if  but  for  a  moment,  have  brought  holier  thoughts 
to  all.  For,  did  it  not  seem  to  link  the  present  to  the  past  and  the 
future,  as  with  the  golden  chain  of  promises  that  bound  the  Holy 
City  to  tlie  Jei-usalem  that  was  above,  which  in  tyi)e  had  already, 
and  in  reality  would  soon  descend  from  heaven?  Patriot,  saint,  or 
stranger,  he  could  not  have  heard  it  unmoved,  as  thrice  the  summons 
from  within  the  Temi)le-gates  rose  and  tell. 

It  hail  not  come  too  soon.  The  Levites  on  ministry,  and  those  of 
the  laity,  whose  'course'  it  was  to  act  as  the  representatives  of  Israel, 
\\hetlier  in  Palestine  or  f\ir  away,  in  a  sacrifice  provided  by,  and 
otfci-ed  for,  all  Israel,  hastened  to  their  duties.'  For  already  the  blush 
of  dawn,  for  which  the  Priest  on  the  highest  pinnacle  of  the  Temple 
had  watched,  to  give  the  signal  for  beginning  the  services  of  the  day, 
had  shot  its  brightness  far  away  to  Hebron  and  beyond.  Within  the 
Courts  below  all  had  long  been  busy.  At  some  time  previously, 
unknown  to  those  who  waited  for  the  morning — whether  at  cock- 
crowing,  or  a  little  earliei-  or  later,"  the  sujierintending  Priest  lia<l  "Tamidi.2 
summoned  to  their  sacred  functions  those  who  had  '  washed, '  according 


'  AVe  presume,  that  tlie  ministration  of 
Zaciiarias  (St.  Luke  i.  9)  took  place  in  the 
mornino;,  as  the  principal  service.  But 
.lA/'/yer  (Komni.  1.  2,  p.  242)  is  mistaken 
ill  sui)posing,  that  this  follows  from  the 
reference  to  the  lot.  It  is,  indeed,  ti'ue 
that,  of  the  four  lots  for  the  priestly  func- 
tions, three  took  i)iace  only  in  the  morn- 


in,2:.  But  that  for  incensing  was  repeated 
in  the  evenins;  (Yoma2()r4.  Even  Bishop 
H((neb(^r<i  (Die  Relig.  Altertii.  p.  fiOi))  is 
not  accurate  in  this  respect. 

-  For  a  (lescrii)tion  of  tlie  details  of 
that  service,  see  'The  Temple  ami  its 
Services,'  &c. 


134  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

R(^OK      to  the  ordinance.     There  must  have  been  each  day  about  fifty  priests 
n         on  duty.'     Such  of  them  as  were  ready  now  divided  into  two  parties, 

■ r —    to  make  inspection  of  the  Temple  courts  by  torchlight.     Presently 

they  met,    and  trooped   to  the  well-known  Hall  of  Hewn  Polished 

•  Yoma25a  gtones/Mvhere  formerly  the  Sanhedrin  had  been  wont  to  sit.  The 
ministry  for  the  day  was  there  apportioned.  To  prevent  the  disputes 
of  carnal  zeal,  the  *  lot '  was  to  assign  to  each  his  function.  Four 
times  was  it  resorted  to :  twice  before,  and  twice  after  the  Temple-gates 
were  opened.  The  first  act  of  their  ministry  had  to  be  done  in  the 
grey  dawn,  by  the  fitful  red  light  that  glowed  on  the  altar  of  burnt 
otfering,  ere  the  priests  had  stirred  it  into  fresh  flame.  It  was  scarcely 
daybreak,  when  a  second  time  they  met  for  the  '  lot,'  which  designated 
those  who  Avere  to  take  part  in  the  sacrifice  itself,  and  who  were  to 
trim  the  golden  candlestick,  and  make  ready  the  altar  of  incense 
within  the  Holy  Place.  And  now  morn  had  broken,  and  nothing 
remained  before  the  admission  of  worshippers  but  to  lu'ing  out  the 
lamb,  once  again  to  make  sure  of  its  fitness  for  sacrifice,  to  water  it 
from  a  golden  bowl,  and  then  to  lay  it  in  mystic  fashion — as  tradition 
described  the  binding  of  Isaac — on  the  north  side  of  the  altar,  with 
its  face  to  the  west. 

All,  priests  and  laity,  were  present  as  the  Priest,  standing  on  the 
east  side  of  the  altar,  from  a  golden  bowl  sprinkled  with  sacrificial 
blood  two  sides  of  the  altai',  below  the  red  line  which  marked  the 
difterence  between  ordinary  sacrifices  and  those  that  Avere  to  be 
wholly  consumed.  While  the  sacrifice  was  prepared  for  the  altar, 
the  priests,  whose  lot  it  was,  had  made  ready  all  within  the  Holy 
Place,  where  the  most  solemn  part  of  the  day's  service  was  to  take 
place — that  of  offering  the  incense,  which  symbolised  Israel's  accepted 
prayers.  Again  was  the  lot  (the  third)  cast  to  indicate  him^  who  was 
to  l)e  honoured  w^ith  this  highest  mediatorial  act.      Only  once  in  a 

'•Tamiav.2  lifetime  might  any  one  enjoy  that  privilege."  Henceforth  he  was 
called  'rich,'^  and  must  leave  to  his  brethren  the  hope  of  the  dis- 
tinction which  had  been  granted  him.     It  was  fitting  that,  as  the 

•  If  we  reckon  the  total  number  in  tbe  wliole  course  would  be  on  duty.    This  i^^, 

twenty-four  courses  of,  presumably,  the  of  course,    considerably  more  than    the 

officiating  priesthood,  at  20,000,  accord-  number  requisite,  since,  except    for  the 

ing  to  Josej)hus  (Ag.  Ap.  ii.  8),  which  is  incensing  priest,  the  lot  for  the  morning 

very  much  below  the   exaggerated  Tal-  also  held  good  for  the  evening  sacrifice, 

mudic     computation    of  85,000  for    the  '^  Yoma  26  r^     The  designation  'rich' 

smallest  course  (Jer.  Taan.  69  a),  and  is  derived  from  the  promise  which,  in 

suppose,  tiiat  little  more  than  one-third  Deut.   xxxiii.  11.  follows  on  the  service 

of  each  course  had  come   up  for  duty.  referred  to  in  verse  10.     But  probably  a 

this   would   give    fifty  priests   for   each  spiritual  application  was  also  intended, 
week-day,    while   on    the    Pabbatli     the 


ZAriTAlUAS   OF     THE   COURSE   OF  ARIA.'  135 

custom  was,  siicli  lot  slioiild  be  prceeded  by  prayer  and  eoiit'ession  of     CHAP, 
their  faith  '  on  the  part  of  the  assembled  priests.  ni 

It  was  the  tirst  Aveek  in  October  748  a.u.c,  '^  that  is,  in  the  sixth  ~ — ^r — ' 
year  before  our  present  era,  when  '  the  course  of  Abia'^ — the  eighth 
in  the  original  arrangement  of  the  weekly  service — was  on  duty  in 
the  Temple.  True  this,  as  indeed  most  of  the  twenty -four  '  courses  ' 
into  which  the  Priesthood  had  been  arranged,  could  not  claim 
identity,  only  continuity,  with  those  whose  names  they  liore.  For 
only  three,  or  at  most  four,  of  the  ancient  '  courses  "  had  returned 
from  Ba))ylon.  But  the  original  arrangenjent  had  been  i)reserved, 
the  names  of  the  missing  courses  being  retained,  and  their  number 
filled  up  by  lot  from  among  those  who  had  come  back  to  Palestine. 
In  oiir  ignorance  of  the  number  of  '  houses  of  their  father,'  or 
'families,'  which  constituted  the  'course  of  Abia,'  it  is  impossible  to 
determine,  how  the  services  of  that  Aveek  had  been  apportioned 
among  them.  But  this  is  of  comparatively  small  importance,  since 
there  is  no  doubt  about  the  central  figure  in  the  scene. 

In  the  group  ranged  that  autumn  morning  around  the  super- 
intending Priest  was  one,  on  whom  the  snows  of  at  least  sixty  winters 
had  fallen.^  But  never  during  these  many  years  had  he  been 
honoured  Avith  the  office  of  incensing — and  it  Avas  perhaps  well  he 
should  have  learned,  that  this  distinction  came  direct  from  God. 
Yet  the  venerable  figure  of  Zacharias  must  have  been  w^ell  known 
in  the  Temple.  For,  each  course  Avas  tAvice  a  year  on  ministry,  and, 
unlike  the  Levites,  the  priests  Avere  not  disqualified  by  age,  but  only 
by  infirmity.  In  many  respects  he  seemed  ditt'erent  from  those 
around.  His  home  Avas  not  in  either  of  the  great  priest-centres — 
the  Ophel-quarter  in  Jerusalem,  nor  in  Jericho^ — but  in  some  snmll 
town  in  those  uplands,  south  of  Jerusalem:  the  historic  ■  liill-countiy 
of  Judaea.'  And  yet  he  might  have  claimed  distinction.  To  l)c  a 
priest,  and  married  to  the  daughter  of  a  priest,  was  supposed  to 
convey  twofold  honour."  That  he  Avas  surrounded  by  relatives  and 
friends,  and  that  he  was  Avell  known  and  respected  throughout  his 

'  Tlic  so-called  Shcma,    consistina;  of  hotli  'well  ,-iti'ickeii  in  years.'      I>iit  IVom 

Dent.  vi.  4-5):  xi.  13-21;  \uni.  xv.  37-41.  Aboth  v.  21   we  learn,   that   sixty  years 

''■  The    question   of    this   date    i.s,    of  was  considered   '  the  coniniencement  of 

conr.se,  intimately  connected  with  that  of  aii'eduess.' 

the  Nativity  of  Christ,  ami  could  there-  =  Accordiuii'  to  tradition.  al)out  one- 
fore  not  be  treated  in  the  text.  It  is  dis-  fourth  of  the  priesthood  was  resident  in 
cussed  in  Apiiendix  VII.:  •  On  tlie  Date  Jericho.  But,  even  limit iiii!,' this  to  those 
of  the  Nativity  of  our  Lord.'  who  were  in  the  haljit  of  otliciatinji;,  the 

■'  This  was  the   eii^hth   course  in   the  statement  seems  ,2;reatly  exacjgerated. 

orij-'inal  arraiiiijement  (1  Chr.  xxiv.  10).  "  Comp.  Ber.  44  a;  Pes.  4i)  a\  Vayyikra 

*  Acconliuii'  to  St.  Luke  i.  7,  they  were  R.  4. 


136 


FROM   BKTllLEHE.M    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK  district,  appears  iucideiitally  Iroin  the  narrative.'     It  would,  indeed, 

II  have  been  strange  had  it  been  otherwise.     There  was  niueh  in  tlie 

■ — - ,- — -  poijuhir  habits  of  tliought,  as  well  as  in  the  office  and  privileges  of 

»st.Lukei.  the  Priesthood,  if  worthily  represented,  to  invest  it  with  a  vonera- 

58, 59, 61, 65,  .  .  i   •     • 

C6  tion  which   the   aggressive  claims   of  Kabbinisni   could  not  Avholly 

monopolise.  And  in  this  instance  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth,  his  wife, 
were  truly  'righteous,"  ^  in  the  sense  of  walking,  so  fa'r  as  man  could 
judge,  'blamelessly,"  alike  in  those  commandments  which  were 
specially  l)inding  on  Israel,  and  in  those  statutes  that  were  of 
universal  bearing  on  mankind.^  No  doubt  their  piety  assumed  in 
some  measure  the  form  of  the  time,  being,  if  we  must  use  the 
expression,  Pharisaic,  though  in  the  good,  not  the  evil  sense  of  it. 

There  is  much  about  those  earlier  Rabbis — Hillel,  Gamaliel,  and 
others — to  attract  us,  and  their  spirit  ofttimes  shari)ly  contrasts  witli 
the  narrow  bigotry,  the  self-glory,  and  the  unspiritual  externalism  of 
their  successors.  We  may  not  unreasonably  infer,  that  the  Tsadcliq 
in  the  quiet  home  of  the  hill-country  was  quite  other  than  the  self- 
asserting  Rabbi,  whose  dress  and  gait,  voice  and  manner,  words  and 
even  prayers,  were  those  of  the  religious  parvenu,  i)ushing  his  claims 
to  distinction  before  angels  and  men.  Such  a  household  as  that  of 
Zacharias  and  Elisabeth  Avould  have  all  that  was  beautiful  in  the 
religion  of  the  tiiYie:  devotion  towards  God;  a  home  of  atl'ection 
and  purity;  reverence  towards  all  that  was  sacred  in  things  Divine 
and  human;  ungrudging,  self-denying,  loving  charity  to  the  poor; 
the  teiiderest  regard  for  the  feelings  of  others,  so  as  not  to  raise  a 
blush,  nor  to  wound  their  hearts;*  above  all,  intense  faith  and  hope 
in  the  higher  and  better  future  of  Israel.  Of  such,  indeed,  there 
must  have  been  not  a  few  in  the  land — the  quiet,  the  prayerful,  the 
pious,  who,  though  certainly  not  Sadducees  nor  Essenes,  but  reckoned 
with  tlie  Pharisaic  party,  waited  for  the  consolation  of  Israel,  and 
received  it  with  joy  when  manifested.  Nor  could  aught  more 
certainly  have  marked  the  difference  between  the  one  and  the  other 

^  diKaivi — of  course  not  in  tlie  strict  determine  tbeir  exact   Hebrew  equiva- 

sense  in  which  the  word  is  sometimes  lents.     The  LXX.   render  by  these  two 

used,  especially  by  St.  Paul,  but  as  pius  terms    not    always    tlie  same    Hebrew 

e!  bonus.     See  Vorstms  (De    Hebraism.  words.    Comp.  Gen.   xxvi.  5  witli   Deut. 

N.T.  pp.  5.5  A-c. ).     As  tiie  account  of  tlie  iv.  40.    They  cannot  refer  to  the  division 

Evan<::elist  seems  derived  from  an  orii;-  of  tiic  law  into  atlirmative  |24S)  and  pro- 

inal  Hebrew  source,  the  word  must  have  hibiiive  (o()5)  commandments, 

corresponded  to  that  of  Tmddifi  in  tlie  ■'  There  is.  perhaps,  no  point  on  which 

then  popular  siizinitlcation.  the  Rabbinic    Law   is  more   explicit  or 

'■^  EVToXai-Aw\  6 /K-atfij/ztrrcr  evidently  strin<;ent  than  on  that  of  tenderest  reji-ard 

mark  an  essential  division  of  the  Law  at  for   the  feelings  of  others,  especially  of 

the  time.     But  it  is  almost  impossible  to  the  poor. 


THE   CELEBRANT   WITHIN   THE   HOLY   PLACE.  |;>7 

section  than  on  a  matter,  whiclnnust  almost  daily, and  most  painfully,      CHAP, 
have  forced  itself  on  Zacharias  and  Elisabeth.     There  were  amonii-        Hi 
the  Rabbis  those  who,  remembering  the  words  of  the  prophet,"  spoke  '- —  ■ — ' 
in  most  pathetic  language  of  the  wrong  of  parting  from  the  wife  of  "M-iiii- w- 
youth,"  and  there  were  those  to  whom  the  bare  fact  of  childlessness  ^■am.wh 
rendered  separation  a  religious  duty."     Elisabeth  was  childless.   For     Yeb.  w</ 
many  a  year  this  must  have  been  the   burden  of  Zacharias'  i)raycr; 
the  burden  also  of  reproach,  which  p]lisabeth  seemed  always  to  caiiy 
with  her.     They  had  waited  together  these  many  years,  till  in  rlic 
evening  of  life  the  flower  of  hope  had  closed  its  fragrant  cup;  and 
still  the  two  sat  together  in  the  twilight,  content  to  wait  in  loneliness, 
till  night  would  close  around  them. 

But  on  that  bright  autumn  morning  in  the  Temple  no  such 
thoughts  would  come  to  Zacharias.  For  the  first,  and  for  the  last 
time  in  life  the  lot  had  nmrked  him  for  incensing,  and  every  thought 
must  have  centred  on  what  was  before  him.  Even  outwardly,  all 
attention  would  he  requisite  for  the  proper  performance  of  his  office. 
First,  he  had  to  choose  two  of  his  special  friends  or  relatives,  to 
assist  in  his  sacred  service.  Their  duties  were  comparatively  simple. 
One  reverently  removed  what  had  been  left  on  the  altar  from  the 
previous  evening's  service;  then,  worshipping,  retired  l)ackwar(ls. 
The  second  assistant  now  advanced,  and,  having  spread  to  the  utmost 
verge. of  the  golden  altar  the  live  coals  taken  from  that  of  burnt- 
olfering,  worshipped  and  retired.  Meanwhile  the  sound  of  the 
'organ'  (the  INlagrephah),  heard  to  the  most  distant  pails  of  the 
Temple,  and,  according  to  tradition,  far  beyond  its  precinets.  had 
summoned  priests,  Levites,  and  people  to  prepare  for  whatever  ser- 
vice or  duty  was  before  them.  For,  this  was  the  innermost  i)art 
of  the  worship  of  the  day.  But  the  celebrant  Priest,  bearing  the 
golden  censer,  stood  alone  within  the  Holy  Place,  lit  by  the  sheen  of 
the  seven-branched  candlestick.  Before  him — somewhat  farther  a  way, 
towards  the  heavy  Veil  that  hung  before  the  Holy  of  Holies, was  the 
golden  altar  of  incense,  on  which  the  red  coals  glowed.  To  his  right 
(the  left  of  the  altar — that  is,  on  the  north  side)  was  the  table  of 
shewbread;  to  his  left,  (m  the  right  or  south  side  of  the  altar,  was  the 
golden  candlestick.  And  still  he  waited,  as  instructed  to  do.  till  a 
special  signal  indicated,  that  the  moment  had  eome  to  spread  the 
incense  on  the  altar,  as  near  as  possible  to  the  Holy  of  Holies. 
Priests  and  people  had  reverently  withdrawn  from  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  altar,  and  were  prostrate  before  the  Lord,  otfering  unspoken 
worship,  in  which  record  of  past   deliverance,   longing  (or  mercies 


138  FROM    iJHTHLEIIEM    To   JOK'DAX. 

i!(K»K      |»i'(»iiiiso(l  ill  the  t'litmc.  mid  cutivaty  I'or  present  blessing  and  peace,' 

"  seemed  the  iugietlients  of  the  incense,  that  rose  in  a  fragrant  cloud 

^- — .^—- ^  of  praise  and  prayer.     Deep  silence  had  fallen  on  the  worshippers,  as 

if  they  watched  to  heaven  the  prayers  of  Israel,  ascending  in  the 

"Kev.  V.  X;    fjoud  of  '  odours  '  that  rose  from  the  golden  altar  in  the  Holy  Place." 
viii.  1.  a.  4  .  .  .  .  .        . 

Zacharias  waited,  until  he  saw  the  incense  kindling.     Then  he  also 

iT.uiiid  vi.  would  have  '  l)Oweddown  in  worship,'  and  reverently  withdraAvn,''  had 
not  a  won< Irons  sight  arrested  his  steps. 

On  the  right  (or  south)  side  of  the  altar,  Ijetween  it  and  the 
golden  candlestick,  stood  what  he  could  not  but  recognise  as  an 
Angelic  form.'-  Never,  indeed,  had  even  tradition  reported  such  a 
vision  to  an  ordinary  Priest  in  the  act  of  incensing.  The  two  super- 
natural ai)paritions  recorded — one  of  an  Angel  each  year  of  the 
Pontificate  of  Simon  the  Just;  the  other  in  that  blasphemous  account 
of  the  vision  of  the  Almighty  by  Ishraael,  the  son  of  Elisha,  and  of 

'  Ber.  7  n  the  coiiversatioii  which  then  ensued ''  ^ — had  both  been  vouchsafed  to 
High-Priests,  and  on  the  Day  of  Atonement.  Still,  there  was  always 
uneasiness  among  the  people  as  any  mortal  approached  the  immediate 

d  jer.  Yoma  Prescncc  of  God,  and  every  delay  in  his  return  seemed  ominous.*  No 
wonder,  then,  that  Zacharias  ^  was  troubled,  and  fear  fell  on  him,' 
as  of  a  sudden — probably  just  after  he  had  spread  the  incense  on  the 
altar,  and  was  about  to  offer  his  parting  prayer — he  beheld  Avhat 
afterwards  he  knew  to  be  the  Angel  Gabriel  ('the  might  of  God'). 
Apart  from  higher  considerations,  there  could  perhaps  be  no  better 
evidence  of  the  truth  of  this  narrative  than  its  accord  with  psycho- 
logical facts.  An  Apocryphal  narrative  would  probably  have  painted 
the  scene  in  agreement  with  what,  in  the  view  of  such  a  writer, 
should  have  been  the  feelings  of  Zacharias,  and  the  language  of  the 
Angel.*  The  Angel  would  have  commenced  by  referring  to  Zacharias' 
prayers  for  the  coining  of  a  Messiah,  and  Zacharias  would  have  been 
represented  in  a  highly  enthusiastic  state.  Instead  of  the  strangely 
]irosaic  objection  which  he  offered  to  the  Angelic  announcement,  there 
would  have  been  a  burst  of  spiritual  sentiment,  or  what  passed  for 
such.     But  all  this  would  have  been  psychologically  untrue.     There 

1  For  the  prayers  offered  by  the  people  Simeon  ben  Asai  said :  From  the  side  of 

diirin.<r  the  incensing,  see  'The  Temple,'  the  altar  of  incense.' 

VP.  li59,  140.  '■>  According  to   the   Talmud,   Ishinael 

■■'  The  following   extract   from   Yalkut  once  went  into  the  innermost  Sanctuary, 

(vol.  i.  p.  113  (I,  close)  affords  a  curious  when   he    had   a   vision    of  God,    AVlio 

illnstration  of  this  Divine  communication  called  ujton   the  priest   to  ])ronounce  a 

from  beside  the  altar  of  incense:   'From  benediction.     The  token  of  God's  accept- 

what  place  did  tlie  Shekhinah  sjieak  to  aiice  luid  l^etter  not  be  quoted. 

Moses?  R.  Natlian   said:  From  the  altar  *  Instances  of  an  analogous  kind  fre- 

of  incense,    according   to    Ex.    xxx.    (i.  quently  occur  in  the  Apociyphal  Gosi)els. 


THE    VISION    AM)    I'liOPIIECY    OF    THE    ANGEL.  I39 

are  nioinoiits  ol'  moral  laiiiliK'ss,  .•^o  to  speak,  wlieii  the  vital  powers      ciiaI'. 

of  the  spiritual   heart  are  depressed,  and.  as  in  the  ease  of  the  Dis-         m 

ciples  on  the  Mount  of  Trunsliguration  and   in  the  (iarden  of  (letli-   '- — -^^ 

scmane,  the  physieal  part  of  our  being  and  all  that  is  weakest  in  us 

assert  their  power. 

It  was  true  to  this  state  of  senii-eonseiousness,  that  the  Angxd 

first  awakened  within  Zaeharias  the  renienit)rancc  of  life-long  i)rayers 

and  hopes,  which  had  now  passed  into  the  background  of  his  being, 

and  then  suddenly  startled  him  l)y  the  promise  of  their  realisation. 

But  that  Child  of  so  many  prayers,  who  was' to  bear  the  signiticant 

name  of  John  (Jehochanan,  or  Jochanan),  '  the  Lord  is  gracious,'  Avas 

to  be  the  source  of  Joy  and  gladness  to  a  far  wider  circle  than  that  of 

the  family.     This  might  be  called  the  tirst  rung  of  the  ladder  by 

which  the  Angel  would  take  the  i)riest  upwards.     Xor  Avas  even  this 

followed  by  an  immediate  disclosure  of  what,  in  such  a  place,  and 

from  such  a  messenger,  must  have  carried  to  a  believing  heart  the 

thrill  of  almost  unspeakable  emotion.     Rather  Avas   Zaeharias   led 

upAvards,  step  by  step.     The  Child  Avas  to  be  great  before  the  Lord; 

not  only  an  ordinary,  but  a  life-Nazarite,'  as  Samson  and  Samuel  of 

old  had  been.     Like  them,  he  was  not  to  consecrate  himself,  but  from 

the  inception  of  life  Avholly  to  belong  to  God,  for  His  Avork.     And, 

greater  than  either  of  these  representatives  of  the  symbolical  import 

of  Nazarism,  he  Avould  combine  the  tAvofold  meaning  of  their  mission 

— outAvard  and  inward  might  in  God,   only  in   a    higher  and  more 

spiritual   sense.      For  this  life-Avork   he  Avould   be   tilled   Avitli    the 

Holy   Ghost,  from   the    moment   life   Avoke   Avithin   him.     Then,    as 

another  Samson,  Av^ould  he,  in  the  strength  of  God,  lift  the  axe  to  each 

tree  to  be  felled,  and,  like  another  Sanniel,  turn  nuiny  of  the  children 

of  Israel  to  the  Lord  their  God.     Nay,  combining  these  tAvo  missions, 

as  did  Elijah  on   Mount  Carmel,    he   should,    in    accordance   Avith 

prophecy,'*  precede  the  Messianic  manifestation,  and,  not  indeed  in  the    ■  Mai.  m.  1 

person  or  form,  but  in  the  spirit  and  power  of  Elijah,  accomplish  the 

typical  meaning  of  his  mission,  as  on  that  da}^  of  decision  it  had  risen 

as  the  burden  of  his  i)rayer'' — that  is,  in  the  Avords  of  proi)hecv.'    "i  Kings 
'     •  .  xviii.  37 

'turn  the  heart  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,'  which,  m  vicav  of  the  cjiai.  iv.  .5, 

coming  dispensation,   Avould  be   'the  disobedient   {fo  nrdJi')  in  the  ^' 

Avisdom  of  the  just.'"     Thus  would  this  new  Elijah  'make  ready  for   'st.  Luke 

the  Lord  a  people  prepared.'  st.Matt^xi! 

If  the  apparition  of  the  Angel,  in  that  place,  and  at  that  time, 
had  overwhelmed  the  aged  priest,  the  Avords  Avhich  he  heard  must 

'  On  the  different  classes  of  Nazarites,  see  'The  Temple,  A-c.,'  pj).  322-331. 


I'.t 


140  ^'RO^l    r>ETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAxX. 

BOOK      have  filled  him  with  such  bcwildenneut,   that  for  the  moment  ho 
II         scarcely  realised  their  meaning.     One  idea  alone,  which  had  struck 

^— 'v — '  its  roots  so  long  in  his  consciousness,  stood  out:  A  son — while,  as  it 
were  in  the  dim  distance  beyond,  stretched,  as  covered  Avith  a  mist  of 
glory,  all  those  marvellous  things  that  w*erc  to  be  connected  with  him. 
So,  when  age  or  strong  feeling  renders  us  almost  insensible  to  the 
present,  it  is  ever  that  which  connects  itself  with  the  past,  rathei- 
than  with  the  present,  which  emerges  first  and  strongest  in  our 
consciousness.  And  so  it  was  the  obvious  doubt,  that  would  suggest 
itself,  which  fell  from  his  lips — almost  unconscious  of  what  he  said. 
Yet  there  was  in  his  words  an  element  of  faith  also,  or  at  least  of 
hope,  as  he  asked  for  some  pledge  or  confirmation  of  what  he  had 
heard. 

It  is  this  demand  of  some  visible  sign,  by  which  to  'know'  all 
that   the    Angel    had   promised,    which    distinguishes    the    doubt  of 

■iGeii.  xvii.   Zacharias  from  that  of  Abraham, '  or  of  Manoah  and  his  wife,''  under 

17,  IH  .  . 

bjudg.  sin   somewhat  similar  circumstances — although,  otherwise  also,    even  a 
^^^  cursory  reading  must  convey  the  impression  of  most  marked  ditfcr- 

ences.  Nor  ought  we  perhaps  to  forget,  that  we  are  on  the  threshold 
of  a  dispensation,  to  Avhich  faith  is  the  only  entrance.  This  door 
Zacharias  was  now"  to  hold  ajar,  a,  dumb  messenger.  He  that  would 
not  speak  the  ])raises  of  God,  but  asked  a  sign,  received  it.  His 
dumbness  was  a  sign — though  the  sign,  as  it  were  the  dumb  child  of 
the  prayer  of  unbelief,  was  its  i)unishment  also.  And  yet,  when 
rightly  a])i)lied,  a  sign  in  another  sense  also — a  sign  to  the  waiting 
multitude  in  the  Temple;  a  sign  to  p]lisabetli;  to  all  who  knew 
Zacharias  in  the  hill-country;  and  to  the  priest  himself,  during  those 
nine  months  of  retirement  and  inward  solitude;  a  sign  nho  that 
would  kindle  int(i  fiery  flame  in  the  day  when  God  would  loosen  his 
tongue. 

A  i)('i-iod  of  unusual  length  had  ])assed,  since  the  signal  for 
incensing  luul  been  given.  The  prayers  of  the  peojjle  had  been 
oftered,  and  their  anxious  gaze  was  directed  tow^ards  the  Holy  Place. 
At  last  Zacharias  emerged  to  take  his  stand  on  the  to])  of  the  steps 
which  led  tVom  the  Porch  to  the  Court  of  the  Priests,  waiting  to  lead 
cNumb.  vi.  in  the  priestly  benediction,"  that  preceded  the  daily  meat-otfering 
and  the  cliant  of  the  Psalms  of  praise,  accompanied  with  joyous 
sound  of  music,  as  the  drink-offering  was  poured  out.  But  already 
the  sign  of  Zacharias  was  to  be  a  sign  to  all  the  peojjle.  The  pieces 
of  the  sacrifices  had  been  ranged  in  due  order  on  the  altar  of  burnt- 
off'ering:  the  priests  stood  on  the  steps  to  the  porch,  and  the  people 


WAS  THERE  SUCH  JEWISH  EXPECTANCY?  141 

were  in  waiting.     Zacluirias  essayed  to  speak  the  words  of  bencdic-     chap. 
tion,  unconscious  that  tlie  stroke  liad  fallen.     But  tlie  people  knew        HI 

it  by  his  silence,  that  he  had  seen  a  vision  in  the  Temple.     Yet  as  he  ^— -^ 

stood  helpless,  trying  by  signs  to  indicate  it  to  the  awestruck  assem- 
bly, he  renudncd  dumb. 

Wondering,  they  had  dispersed — people  and  priests.  The  day's 
service  over,  another  family  of  ministrants  took  the  place  of  those 
among  whom  Zacharias  had  been;  and  again,  at  the  close  of  the 
week's  service,  another  '  course '  that  of  Abia.  They  returned  to 
their  homes — some  to  Ophel,  some  to  Jericho,  some  to  their  quiet 
dwellings  in  the  country.  But  God  fulfilled  the  word  which  He  had 
spoken  by  His  Angel. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  it  may  be  well  to  inquire  into  the 
relation  between  the  events  just  described,  and  the  customs  and  ex- 
pectations of  the  time.  The  scene  in  the  Temple,  and  all  the  sur- 
roundings, are  in  strictest  accordance  with  what  we  knoAv  of  the 
services  of  the  Sanctuary.  In  a  narrative  that  lays  hold  on  some 
details  of  a  very  complex  service,  such  entire  accuracy  conveys  the 
impression  of  general  truthfulness.  Sinularly,  the  sketch  of  Zacharias 
and  Elisabeth  is  true  to  the  history  of  the  time — though  Zacharias 
could  not  have  been  one  of  the  'learned,'  nor  to  the  Rabbinists,  a 
model  priest.  They  would  have  described  him  as  an  '  idiot, ' '  or  com- 
mon, and  as  an  Amha-arets,  a  '  rustic '  priest,  and  treated  him 
with  benevolent  contempt.^  The  Angelic  apparition,  which  he  saw,  was 
wholly  uni)rccedented,and  could  therefore  not  have  lain  within  range 
of  connnon  expectation;  though  the  possibility,  or  rather  the  fear,  of 
some  contact  with  the  Divine  Avas  always  present  to  the  popular  mind. 
But  it  is  difficult  to  conceive  how,  if  not  true,  the  invention  of  such 
a  vision  in  such  circumstances  could  have  suggested  itself  This 
difficulty  is  enhanced  by  the  obvicnis  differences  between  the  Evangelic 
narrative,  and  the  popular  ideas  of  the  lime.  Far  too  much  import- 
ance has  here  been  attached  by  a  certain  class  of  writers  to  a  Rab- 
binic saving, "  that  the  names  of  the  Angels  were  brought  from  Babylon.  ••'  Jer. 
For,  not  only  was  this  saying  (of  Ben  Lakish)  only  a  clever  Scriptural  uneiofrow 
deduction  (as  the  context  shows),,  and  not  even  an  actual  tradition, 
but  no  com[)etent  critic  would  venture  to  lay  down  the  principle,  that 
isolate<l  Rabbinic  sayings  in  the  Talmud  are  to  be  regarded  as 
sufficient  foundation  for  historical  facts.     On  the  other  hand,  Rab- 

1  The  word  j;«^--,  or  ■  i<li(it,' when  con-  erate.     See   Jer.    Sot.   21  A.   line  .S  from 

joined  with   'priest"  ordinarily  ineaii.s  a  bottom;  Sanh.   21  b.     Com)),  atso  Mei:;. 

common  priest,  in  distinction  to  the  Hiiili  12  />:  Ber.  R.  06. 

priest.      But   the    word    un((uestional)ly  ■  Accordin,i>-  to  Sanh.  90  h.  such  an  one 

also  signifies  vulvar,  iiiiiorant.  and   illit-  was  not  even  allowed  to  get  the  Terumah. 


142 


FROM   BETPILEHE.M    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 

ir 


18 


•>  Dau.  ix.21 

<:X.  21 


■1  Moed  K. 
•26  a 

f  1  Kinf,'3 
xvlii.  37  (in 
Hebr.  with- 
out '  Hint ' 
and 

'  again'); 
see  Ber. 
31  b,  last 
two  lines 

fBemidbar 
K.   14.     An- 
other view 
In  Par.  Vi 


biiiic  tradition  docs  lay  it  down,  that  the  names  of  the  Angels  were 
derived  from  their  mission,  and  might  be  changed  with  it.  Thus  the 
reply  of  the  Angel  to  the  inquiry  of  Manoali  *  is  explained  as  imply- 
ing, that  he  knew  not  what  other  name  might  be  given  him  in  the  fu- 
ture. In  the  Book  of  Daniel,  to  which  the  son  of  Lakish  refers,  the 
only  two  Angelic  names  mentioned  are  GabrieP  and  Michael,"  while 
the  appeal  to  the  B<jok  of  Daniel,  as  evidence  of  the  Babylonish  ori- 
gin of  Jewish  Angelology,  comes  with  strange  inconsistency  from  writ- 
ers who  date  it  in  Maccabean  times.  ^  But  the  question  of  Angelic 
nomenclature  is  quite  secondary.  The  real  point  at  issue  is,  whether  or 
not  the  Angelology  and  Demonology  of  the  New  Testament  was  derived 
from  contemporary  Judaism.  The  opinion,  that  such  was  the  case, 
has  been  so  dogmatically  asserted,  as  to  have  almost  passed  among  a 
certain  class  as  a  settled  fact.  That  nevertheless  such  was  7iot  the 
case,  is  capal^le  of  the  most  ample  proof.  Here  also,  with  similarity  of 
form,  slighter  than  usually,  there  is  absolute  contrast  of  substance.^ 
Admitting  that  the  names  of  Gabriel  and  Michael  must  have  been 
familiar  to  the  mind  of  Zacharias,  some  not  unimportant  differences 
must  be  kept  in  view.  Thus,  Gabriel  was  regarded  in  tradition  as 
inferior  to  Michael;  and,  though  both  were  connected  with  Israel, 
Gabriel  was  represented  as  chiefly  the  minister  of  justice,  and  Michael 
of  mercy;  while,  thirdly,  Gal)riel  was  supposed  to  stand  on  the  left, 
and  not  (as  in  the  Evangelic  narrative)  on  the  right,  side  of  the 
throne  of  glory.  Small  as  these  divergences  may  seem,  they  are  all- 
important,  when  derivation  of  one  set  of  opinions  from  another  is  in 
question.  Finally,  as  regarded  the  coming  of  Elijah  as  forerunner  of 
the  Messiah,  it  is  to  be  observed  that,  according  to  Jewish  notions,  he 
was  to  am^ear personally, Siml  not  merely  '  in  spirit  and  power.'  In  fact, 
tradition  represents  his  ministry  and  appearances  as  almost  continu- 
ous— not  only  immediately  before  the  coming  of  Messiah,  but  at  all 
times.  Rabbinic  writings  introduce  him  on  the  scene,  not  only  fre- 
quently, but  on  the  most  incongruous  occasions,  and  for  the  most  diverse 
l)urposes.  In  this  sense  it  is  said  of  him,  that  he  always  liveth.''  Some- 
times, indeed,  he  is  ])lamed,  as  for  the  closing  words  in  his  prayer  about 
the  turning  of  the  heart  of  the  people,"  and  even  his  sacrifice  on  Carmel 
was  only  excused  on  the  ground  of  express  command.'  But  his  great 
activity  as  precursor  of  the  Messiah  is  to  resolve  doubts  of  all  kinds; 
to  reintroduce  those  who  liiul  been  violently  and  improperly  extruded 


'  Two  other  Anirel:<  arc  iiicntioiicil.  liiit 
not  naine<l.  in  Dan.  x.  IH.  20. 
'^  The  .JeNvi.sli  idea.sand  teachins'  about 


aiijrels  are  fully  iijiven  in  Aijpcndix  XIII. : 
•.Jewish  Aiigeloloffy  and  l)einonoloiry.' 


WAITING    IN    TIIK    IIILL-COINTHY    OF   Jl'D/KA.  14:{ 

from  the  congregation  of  Lsracl,  and  vice-v(4't?a;  to  make  peace;  while,  CHAP, 

finally,  he  was  connected  with  the  raising  of  tlie  dead." '     IJut  no-  HI 

where  is  he  prominently  designated  as  intended  'to  nmke  ready  for  "--^.^ — 

the  Lord  a  i)eoi)le  prepared.''^  w7'"?'S, 

I        I         I        I  Slur  haSli 

Thus,  from  whatever  source  the  narrative  may  be  supposed  to  liavc  ^a^a^au 
been  derived,  its  details  certainly  dilfer,  in  almost  all  particulars,  from  p-  ^" 
the  theological  notions  current  at  the  time.  And  the  more  Zacharias 
meditated  on  this  in  the  long  solitude  of  his  enforced  silence,  the  more 
fully  must  new  spiritual  thoughts  have  come  to  him.  As  for  Elisabeth, 
those  tender  feelings  of  woman,  which  ever  shrink  from  the  disclosure 
of  the  dearest  secret  of  motherhood,  were  intensely  deepened  and 
sanctified  in  the  knowh'dge  of  all  that  had  passed.  Little  as  she 
might  understand  the  full  meaning  of  tlie  future,  it  must  have  been 
to  her,  as  if  she  also  now  stood  in  the  Holy  IMace,  gazing  towards  the 
Veil  which  concealed  tlie  innermost  Presence.  Meantime  she  was 
content  with,  nay,  felt  tlie  need  of,  absolute  retirement  from  other 
fellowship  tlian  that  of  God  and  her  own  heart.  Like  her  husband, 
she  too  would  be  silent  and  alone — till  another  v(nce  called  her  forth. 
Whatever  the  future  might  bring,  sufficient  for  the  present,  that  thus 
the  Lord  had  done  to  her,  in  days  in  which  He  looked  down  to 
remove  her  reproach  among  men.  The  removal  of  that  burden,  its 
manner,  its  meaning,  its  end,  were  all  from  God,  and  with  God;  and 
it  was  fitting  to  be  quite  alone  and  silent,  till  God's  voice  would 
again  wake  the  echoes  within.  And  so  five  months  passed  in  absolute 
retirement. 

1  All  the   Rabbinic   traditions   about  great  repentance  till  Elijah — his  memory 

'Elijah  as  the  Forerunner  of  the  Messiah'  for  blessing! — come,  as  it  is  said,  Mai. 

are  collated  in  Appendix  VIII.  iv.  6,'  &c.     From  this  isolated  and  enig- 

^  I  should,  however,  remark,  that  that  matic  sentence.  Professor  Deh'tzsck's  ini- 

very  curious  chapter  on  Repentance,  in  the  plied    inference   (Zeitschr.    fiir   Luther. 

Pirke  de  R.  Elieser  (c.  43),  closes  with  Theol.  1875,  p.  593)  seems  too  sweeping, 
these  words :  '  And  Israel  will  not  make 


144  FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO  JORDAN. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   ANNUNCIATION   OF   JESUS   THE   MESSIAH,  AND   THE   BIRTH 
OF    HIS    FORERUNNER. 

(St.  Matt.  i. ;  St.  Luke  i.  26-80.) 

BOOK  From  the  Temple  to  Nazareth!  It  seems  indeed  most  fitting  that  the 
II         Evangelic  story  shoidd  have  taken  its  beginning  within  the  Sanctuary, 

■"'^ — '  and  at  the  time  of  sacrifice.  Despite  its  outward  veneration  for  them, 
the  Temple,  its  services,  and  specially  its  sacrifices,  were,  by  an 
inward  logical  necessity,  fast  becoming  a  superfluity  for  Rabbinism. 
But  the  new  development,  passing  over  the  intruded  elements,  which 
were,  after  all,  of  rationalistic  origin,  connected  its  beginning  directly 
with  the  Old  Testament  dispensation — its  sacrifices,  priesthood,  and 
promises.  In  the  Sanctuary,  in  connection  with  sacrifice,  and  through 
the  priesthood  —  such  was  significantly  the  beginning  of  the  era  of 
fulfillment.  And  so  the  great  religious  reformation  of  Israel  under 
Samuel  had  also  begun  in  the  Tabernacle,  which  had  so  long  been  in 
the  background.  But  if,  even  in  this  Temple-beginning,  and  in  the 
communication  to,  and  selection  of  an  idiot  'priest,'  there  was  marked 
divergence  from  the  Rabbinic  ideal,  that  difference  widens  into  the 
sharpest  contrast,  as  we  pass  from  the  Forerunner  to.  the  Messiah, 
from  the  Temple  to  Galilee,  from  the  '  idiot '  priest  to  the  humble, 
unlettered  family  of  Nazareth.  It  is  necessary  here  to  recall  our 
general  impression  of  Rabbinism:  its  conception  of  God, ^  and  of  the 
highest  good  and  ultimate  object  of  all  things,  as  concentrated  in 
learned  study,  pursued  in  Academies;  and  then  to  think  of  the  un- 
mitigated contempt  with  which  they  were  wont  to  speak  of  Galilee, 
and  of  the  Galileans,  whose  vary  patois  was  an  offence;  of  the  utter 
abhorrence  with  which  they  regarded  the  unlettered  country-people, 

'  Terrible  as  it  may  sound,  it  is  cer-  farther  in  its  flaring  and  speal<s  of  tiie 

tainly  the  teachina;  of  Rabbinism,   that  Ahuifjhty  as  arrayed  in  a  white  di-ess,  or 

God  occupied  so  many  hours  every  day  as  occupying  himself  by  day  with  the 

in  the  study  of  the  Law.      Comp.  Tarsi.  study  of  the  Bible,   and'  by  night  with 

Ps.-Jonathan    on    Dent,    xxxii.    4,    and  that  of  the  six  tractates  of  the  Mishnah. 

Abhod.  Z.   '^  h.     Nay,   Rabbinism  goes  Comp.  also  the  Targum  on  Cant.  v.  10. 


THE   HOME   OF   NAZARETH.  I45 

ill  oi(l(!i'  to  realise,  how  sucli  an  household  as  that  of  Joseph  and  Mary  CHAP. 
would  be  regarded  l)y  the  leaders  of  Israel.  A  Messianic  announce-  IV 
ment,  not  the  result  of  learned  investigation,  nor  connected  with  ^ — y — ^ 
the  A(^ad(!inies,  l)ut  in  the  Sanctuary,  to  a  'rustic'  priest;  an  Elijah 
una])le  to  untie  the  intellectual  or  ecclesiastical  knots,  of  whose 
mission,  indeed,  this  formed  no  part  at  all;  and  a  Messiah,  the  off- 
s|)ring  of  a  Virgin  in  Galilee  betrothed  to  a  humble  workman — 
assuredly,  such  a  picture  of  the  fulfillment  of  Israel's  hope  could  never 
have  been  conceive<l  by  contempoi-ary  Judaism.  There  was  in  such  a 
Messiah  absolutely  nothing — ])ast,  present,  or  possible;  intellectually, 
leligiously,  or  even  nationally — to  attract,  but  all  to  repel.  And  so 
we  can,  at  the  very  outset  of  this  history,  understand  the  intinite 
contrast  which  it  embodied — with  all  the  difRculties  to  its  reception, 
even  to  those  who  became  disciples,  as  at  almost  every  step  of  its  pro- 
gress they  were,  with  ever  fresh  surprise,  recalled  from  all  that  they 
had  formerly  thought,  to  that  which  was  so  entirely  new  and  strange. 

And  yet,  just  as  Zacharias  may  be  described  as  the  representative 
of  the  good  and  the  true  in  the  Priesthood  at  that  time,  so  the  family 
of  Nazareth  as  a  typical  Israelitish  household.  We  feel,  that  the 
scantiness  of  particulars  here  sui>plied  l)y  the  Gospels,  was  intended 
to  prevent  the  human  interest  from  overshadowing  the  grand  central 
Fact,  to  which  alone  attention  was  to  be  directed.  For,  the  design  of 
tlie  Gospels  was  manifestly  not  to  furnish  a  biography  of  Jesus  the 
-Messiah, '  but,  in  organic  connection  with  the  Old  Testament,  to  tell 
the  history  of  the  long-promised  establishment  of  the  Kingdom  of 
God  upon  earth.  Yet  what  scanty  details  we  possess  of  the  '  Holy 
Family'  and  its  surroundings  may  here  fin<l  a  place. 

The  highlands  which  foi-m  the  central  portion  of  Palestine  are 
broken  by  the  wide,  rich  ])lain  of  Jezreel,  which  severs  Galilee  from 
the  rest  of  the  land.  This  was  always  the  great  battle-tield  of  Israel. 
Appropriately,  it  is  shut  in  as  between  mountain-walls.  That  along 
the  north  of  the  i)lain  is  formed  l)y  the  mountains  of  Lower  Galilee, 
cleft  about  the  middle  by  a  valley  that  widens,  till,  after  an  hour's 
jouru'-y,  we  stand  within  an  enclosure  which  seems  almost  one  of 
Natui'c's  own  sanctuai-ies.  As  in  an  am]ihitheatre,  fifteen  hill-tops 
rise  around.  That  to  the  west  is  the  highest — about  500  feet.  On 
its  lower  slopes  nestles  a  little  town,  its  narrow  streets  ranged  like 
terraces.     This  is  Nazareth,  probably  the  ancient  Sai-id  (or  Kn-Sarid), 

'  The  object  wliich  the  Evaiis;elists  hud  tains  no  V)ioi2:nii)liy.  The  twofold  ol)Ject 
in  view  was  certainly  not  that  of  bio-  of  their  narratives  is  indicated  l»y  St. 
graphy,  even  as  the  Old  Testament  con-       Luke  i.  4.  and  by  8t.  John  xx.  M. 


146 


FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   .lOKDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


•'  Josh.  xix. 
10,  11 


wliicli,   in  the  tiiuo  of   Joshua,   marked  the  northern  boundary    of 
Zei)uhin. "' 

Climbing  this  steep  hill,  fragrant  with  aromatic  plants,  and  bright 
with  rich-coloured  flowers,  a  view  almost  unsur})assed  opens  before  us. 
For,  tlie  Galilee  of  the  time  of  Jesus  was  not  only  of  the  richest 
fertility,  cultivated  to  the  utmost,  and  thickly  covered  with  populous 
towns  and  villages,  but  the  centre  of  every  known  industry,  and  the 
busy  road  of  the  world's  commerce.  Northward  the  eye  would  sweep 
over  a  rich  plain;  rest  here  and  there  on  white  towns,  glittering  in 
the  sunlight;  then  quickly  travel  over  the  romantic  hills  and  glens 
which  form  the  scenes  of  Solomon's  Song,  till,  passing  beyond  Safed 
(the  Tsephath  of  the  Rabbis — the  'city  set  on  an  hill'),  the  view  is 
bounded  by  that  giant  of  the  far-ofl'  mountain-chain,  snow-tipped 
Hermon.  Westward  stretched  a  like  scene  of  beauty  and  wealth — a 
land  not  lonely,  but  wedded;  not  desolate,  but  teeming  with  life; 
while,  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  lay  i)urple  Carmel;  beyond  it  a 
fringe  of  silver  sand,  and  then  the  dazzling  sheen  of  the  Great  Sea. 
In  the  farthest  distance,  white  sails,  like  wings  outspread  towards  the 
ends  of  the  woi-ld;  nearer,  busy  ports;  then,  centres  of  industry; 
and  close  by,  travelled  roads,  all  bright  in  the  pure  Eastern  air  and 
rich  glow  of  the  sun.  But  if  you  turned  eastwards,  the  eye  would 
soon  be  arrested  by  the  wooded  height  of  Tabor,  yet  not  before  at- 
tention had  been  riveted  by  the  long,  narrow  string  of  fantastic  cara- 
vans, and  curiosity  roused  by  the  motley  figures,  of  all  nationalities 
and  in  all  costumes,  busy  binding  the  East  to  the  West  by  that  line 
of  commerce  that  passed  along  the  route  winding  around  Tabor.  And 
when,  weary  with  the  gaze,  you  looked  once  more  down  on  little 
Nazareth  nestling  on  the  breast  of  the  mountain,  the  eye  would  rest 
on  a  scene  of  tranquil,  homely  beauty.  Just  outside  the  town,  in  the 
north-west,  bul)bled  the  spring  or  well,  the  trysting-spot  of  towns- 
people, and  welcome  resting-place  of  travellers.  Beyond  it  stretched 
lines  of  houses,  each  with  its  flat  roof  standing  out  distinctly  against 
the  clear  sky;  watered,  terraced  gardens,  gnarled  wide-spreading  fig- 
trees,  graceful  feathery  palms,  scented  oranges,  silvery  olive-trees, 
thick  hedges,  rich  pasture-land,  then  the  bounding  hills  to  the  south; 


'  The  name  Nazareth  may  best  be  re- 
garded   as    the    equivalent    of  niil. 

'  watch  '  or  '  watcheress.'  The  name  does 
not  occur  in  tlic  Tahnud,  nor  in  those 
Midrashim  which  have  been  preserved. 
But  the  ele^y  of  Eleazar  ha  Kallir — 
written  before  the  close  of  the  Talmud — 
in  wiiich  Nazareth  is  mentioned  as  a  Priest- 


centre,  is  based  upon  an  ancient  Midrash, 
now  lost  (comp.  Neuhauer,  Geogr.  du 
Talmud,  p.  117,  note  5).  It  is,  however, 
possible,  as  Dr.  Neuhauer  su2:gests  fu.  s. 
p.  190,  note  5),  that  the  name  n^Hij;  '" 
Midr.  on  Eccl.  ii.  8  should  read  n^-iy;, 
and  refers  to  Nazaretli. 


NAZARETH    AS   THE    1M>ACE   OF   JE8US'    UFJiKiXGlNG.  147 

and  beyoiul,  the  seemingly  unluxinded  expanse  of  the  wide  plain  (jt      CHAP. 
Esdraelon!  IV 

And  yet,  withdrawn  t'roni  the  world  as,  in  its  enclosure  of  nioun-  ^— --v— ^ 
tains,  Nazareth  might  seem,  we  must  not  think  of  it  as  a  lonely  village 
which  only  faint  echoes  reached  of  what  roused  the  land  beyond. 
With  reverence  be  it  said:  such  a  place  niiglit  have  suited  the  training 
of  the  contemplative  hermit,  not  the  upbringing  of  Him  Whose  sym- 
pathies were  to  be  with  every  clime  and  race.  Nor  would  such 
an  abode  have  furnished  what  (with  all  due  acknowledgment  of  the 
supernatural)  we  mark  as  a  constant,  because  a  rationally  necessary, 
element  in  Scripture  history:  that  of  inward  preparedness  in  which 
the  higher  and  the  Divine  afterwards  find  their  ready  points  of  contact. 

Nor  was  it  otherwise  iu  Nazareth.  The  two  great  interests  which 
stirred  the  land,  the  two  great  factors  in  the  religious  future  of  Israel, 
constantly  met  in  the  retirement  of  Nazareth.  The  great  caravan- 
route  which  led  from  Accoon  the  sea  to  Damascus  divided  at  its  com- 
mencement into  three  roads :  the  most  northern  passing  through  Ccesa- 
rea  Philippi;  the  Upper  Galilean;  and  the  Lower  Galilean.  The  latter, 
the  ancient  Via  Maris  led  through  Nazareth,  and  thence  either  by 
Cana,  or  else  along  the  northern  shoulder  of  Mount  Tabor,  to  the 
Lake  of  Gennesaret — each  of  these  roads  soon  uniting  with  the  L^pper 
Galilean.'  Hence,  although  the  stream  of  commerce  between  Acco 
and  the  East  was  divided  into  three  channels,  yet,  as  one  of  these 
liassed  through  Nazareth,  the  quiet  little  town  was  not  a  stagnant 
pool  of  rustic  seclusion.  Men  of  all  nations,  busy  with  another  life 
than  that  of  Israel,  would  appear  in  the  streets  of  Nazareth;  and 
through  them  thoughts,  associations,  and  hopes  connected  with  the 
great  outside  world  be  stirred.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  Nazareth 
was  also  one  of  the  great  centers  of  Jewish  Tem])le-life.  It  has  already 
been  indicated  that  the  Priesthood  was  divided  into  twenty-four 
'courses,'  which,  in  turn,  ministered  in  the  Temple.  The  Priests  of 
the  'course'  vs^hich  was  to  be  on  duty  alw^ays  gathered  in  certain 
towns,  whence  they  went  up  in  company  to  Jerusalem,  Avhile  those  of 
their  number  who  were  anal^le  to  go  spent  the  week  in  fasting  and 
prayer.  Now  Nazareth  was  one  of  these  Priest-centres,^  and  although 
it  may  well  have  been,  that  comparatively  few  in  distant  Galilee  con- 
formed to  the  Priestly  regulations — some  must  have  assembled  there 
in  preparation  for  the  sacred  functions,  or  appeared  in  its  Synagogue. 

1  Comp.    the   detailed   description   of  '^  Comp.  Nenbauer,  u.  s.  p.  190.  See  a 

these  roads,  and  the  references  in  Her-      detailed  account  in  '  Sketches  of  Jewish 
zoi/s  Real-Encykl.  vol.  xv.  pi).  IGO,  lOl.       Social  Life,'  Arc.  p.  :J(1. 


148 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


Even  tlio  fact,  so  well  known  to  all,  of  this  living  connection  between 
Nazareth   and  the    Temple,   must   have    wakened  peculiar  feelings. 

-^^y"^  Thus,  to  take  the  wider  view,  a  double  symbolic  signiticance  attached 
to  Nazareth,  since  through  it  passed  alike  those  who  carried  on  the 
traffic  of  the  world,  and  those  who  ministered  in  the  Tem])le.' 

We  nmy  take  it,  that  the  peoi)lc  of  Nazareth  were  like  those  of 
other  little  towns  similarly  circumstanced:'-^  with  all  the  i)eculiarities  of 
the  imi)ulsive,  straight-spoken,  hot-])looded,  brave,  intensely  national 
(lalileans; '^  with  the  deeper  feelings  and  aluKJSt  instinctive  habits 
of  thought  and  life,  which  were  tlie  outcome  of  long  centuries  of 
Old  Testament  training;  but  also  with  the  petty  interests  and  jeal- 
ousies of  such  places,  and  with  all  the  ceremonialism  and  punctilious 
self-assertion  of  Orientals.  The  cast  of  Judaism  jtrevalent  in  Nazareth 
would,  of  course,  be  the  same  as  in  Galilee  generally.  •  We  know, 
that  there  were  marked  divergences  from  the  observances  in  that 
stronghold  of  Ivab1)inism,*  Judaea — indicating  greater  simj^licity  and 
freedom  from  the  constant  intrusion  of  traditional  ordinances.-  The 
home-life  would  be  all  the  pui'er,  time  the  veil  of  wedded  life  was  not 
so  coarsely  lifted  as  in  Judsea,  nor  its  sacred  secrecy  interfered  with 
by  an  Argus-eyed  legislation.'^     The  purity  of  betrothal  in  Galilee  was 

Keth.  12  a  less  Hkoly  to  be  sullied,''  and  weddings  were  more  simple  than  in 
Judaea — M'ithout  the  dubious  institution  of  groomsmen,'"^  or  'friends 
of  the  bridegroom,' "  whose  office  must  not  unfrequently  have  degen- 
erated into  utter  coarseness.  The  bride  was  chosen,  not  as  in  Judgea, 
where  money  was  too  often  the  nujtive,  but  as  in  Jerusalem,  with 
cliief  regard  to  'a  fair  degree; '  and  widows  were  (as  in  Jerusalem) 
more  tenderly  cared  for,  as  we  gather  even  from  the  fact,  that  they 
had  a  life-right  of  residence  in  their  husband's  house.'* 

Such  a  home  was  that  to  which  Joseph  was  about  to  bring  the 
maiden,  to  whom  he  had  been  betrothed.  Whatever  view  may  be 
taken  of  the  genealogies  in  the  drospels  according  to  St.  Matthew 
and  St.  Luke — whether  they  be  regarded  as  those  of  Joseph  and  of 


!■  Keth.  12 
and  often 

■  St.  .John 
iii  29 


1  It  is  Strange,  that  tliese  two  circum- 
stances have  not  been  noticed.  Keim 
(Jesu  von  Nazara  i.  2,  i)p.  322,  323)  only 
cursorily  refers  to  the  f:;reat  road  which 
passed  throiii;'!]  Nazareth. 

■^  The  inference,  that  the  expression  of 
Nathanael  (St.  .John  i.  4())  implies  a  lower 
state  of  tiie  people  of  Nazareth,  is  un- 
founded. Even  Keim  points  out,  that  it 
only  marks  disbelief  that  the  Messiah 
would  come  from  sucli  a  place. 

^  Oui'  desorii)tion  of  them   is  derived 


from  notices  by  Josephus  (such  as  War 
iii.  3,  2),  and  many  passages  in  the 
Talmud,   • 

'  Tliese  differences  are  marlced  in  Pes. 
iv.  5;  Ketli.  iv.  12;  Ned.  ii.  4;  ChuU. 
62  a;  Haba  K.  HO  (C,  Keth.  12  ((. 

^  The  reailer  who  wishes  to  understaml 
what  we  have  only  ventured  to  hint,  is 
referred  to  tlie  Mislmic  tractate  Niddali. 

^  Comp.  '  Sketches  of  Jewish  Social 
Life,'  &c.,  pp.  152  &c. 


:i6 


ii.  24 


THE    BETROTHAL   OF   JOSEPH   AND    MARY.  149 

Mary/  or,  which  seems  tlie  more  likely/  as  those  of  Joseph  only,      chap. 

marking  his   natural  and    his  legal    descent'^  from    David,   or   vice        IV 

v(n'sa' — there  can  be  no  question,  that  both  Joseph  and  Mary  were  of  ^— ^r — ' 

tlie  royal  lineage  of  David."     Most  probably  the  two  were  nearly 

related,'"'  while  Mary  could  also  claim  kinship  with  the  Priesthood, 

being,  no  doul)tonlier  mother's  side,  a  'blood-relative'  of  Elisabeth, 

tlie    Priest-wife   of  Zaeharias.'''      Even   this    seems  to  imply,   that  "St. Lukoi. 

Mary's  family  must  shortly  before  have  held  higher  rank,  for  only 

with  such  did  custom  sanction  any  alliance  on  the  ]iart  of  Priests.** 

But    at   the  time    of  their  betrothal,  alike  Josej)!!  and  Mary  were 

extremely  poor,  as  a})pcars — not  indeed  from  his  being  a  carpenter, 

since  a  trade  was  regarded  as  almost  a  religious  duty — but  from  the 

offering  at  the  i)resentation  of  Jesus  in  the  Temple.''     Accordingly,   ^st.  Luke 

their  betrothal  must  have  been  of  the  simplest,  and  the  dowry  settled 

the  smallest  possible.**     Whichever  of  the  two  modes  of  betrothal  "' 

may  have   been  adopted:  in  the  presence  of  witnesses — either  by 

solemn  word  of  mouth,  in  due  prescribed  formality,  with  the  added 

])ledge  of  a  piece  of  money,  however  small,  or  of  money's  worth  for 

use;  or   else  by  writing  (the  so-called  Shifre  Erusin) — there  would 

be  no  sumptuous  feast  to  follow;  and  the  ceremony  would  conclude 

with  some  such  benediction  as  that    afterwards   in    use:     '  Blessed 

art  Thou,  0  Lord  our  God,  King  of  the  World,  Who  hath  sanctified 

us  by  His  Commandments,  and  enjoined  us  about  incest,  and  forbidden 

the  betrothed,  but  allowed  us  those  wedded  by  Chuppah  (the  marriage- 

baldachino)  and  betrothal.     Blessed  art  Thou,  Who  sanctifiest  Israel 

■  The  best  defence  of  this  view  is  tliat  '^  Tliis  is  tlie  general  view  of  antiquity, 

by  Wieseler,  Beitr.  zur  AViirflig.  <1.  Evang.  '  Reference  to  this  union  of  Levi  and 

pp.  133  &c.     It  is  also  virtually  adopted  Judah  in  tlie  Messiah  is  made  in  the  Test, 

by  H^eiS.s- (Leben  Jesu,  vol.  i.  iss2).  xii.  Patriarch.,  Test.  Simeonis  vii.  (apud 

2  This  view  is  adopted  almost  unani-  Fabr.  Cod.  Psendepi.UT.  vol.  ii.  p.  542). 

mously  by  modern  writers.  Curiously,  the  gi-eat  Hillel  was  also  said 

■'  This  view  is  defended  with  much  skill  by  some  to  have  descended,  throuii-h  his 

by  Mr.  McCh-llau  in  his  New  Testament,  fatlier  and  mother,    from  the   trilies   of 

vol.  i.  11]).  409-422.  Judah  and  Levi — all.  however,  asst^-ting 

*  So  (irotius,  Bishop  Lord  Arthur  Her-  ids  Davidic  origin  (conip.  Jer.  Taan.  iv. 

vey,  and  after  him  most  modern  English  2  ;  Ber.  R.  98  and  33). 

writers.  **  Comp,  Maimonidps.  YadhaChazHil. 

^  The  Davidic  descent  of  the  Virgin-  Sanh.  ii.  The  inference  would,  of  course, 

Mother — which  is  questioned   by  some  be  the  same,  whether  we  suppose  Mary's 

even    among    orthodox    inter])reters —  mother  to  have  V)een  the  sister-in-law,  or 

seems  im])lied  in  the  Gospel  {St.  Luke  i.  the  sister,  of  Elisabeth's  father. 

27,  32,  69;  ii.  4),  and  an  almost  neces-  "  Comp.    'Sketches  of   Jewish    Social 

sitr)!  inference   from    such   i)assages   as  Life  in  the  Days  of  Christ."  ])ii.  143-149. 

Uom,   i.   3;  2  Tim.  ii.  S;  Hebr.  vii.  14.  Also  the  article  on  '  Marriage '  in  Ca.s.sW/'.s' 

The  Davidic  descent  of  Jesus  is  not  only  Bible-Educator,  vol.  iv.  pp.  2()7-270. 

iidmitted,    but    elaborately   proved — on  i"  There  was  a  third  mode,  by  cohabita- 

l)urely  rationalistic  grounds — by   Kcim  tion;  but  this  was  highly  disapproved  of 

(u.  s.  pp.  327-329).  even  by  tlie  Rabbis. 


150 


FROM  HETHLEHI-:M  to  JORDAN. 


12 


HOOK      Ity  Clmppiih  and   Ix'trothar — the   wliolc   being   i)erhaps  concluded 
II         ])\  a  benediction  over  the  statutory  cup  of  wine,  Avhich  was  tasted 

— ^f '   in  turn  by  the  loetrothed.     From  tliat  moment  Mary  was  the  betrothed 

wife  of  Joseph;  their  relationship  as  sacred,  as  if  they  had  ah-eady 
been  wedded.  Any  breach  ofitwouhl  be  treated  as  adultery;  nor 
could  the  band  be  dissolved  except,  as  after  marriage,  l)y  regular 
divorce.  Yet  months  might  intervene  between  the  betrothal  and 
marriage.^ 

Five  months  of  Elisabeth's  sacred  retirement  had  passed,  when 
a  strange  messenger  brought  its  lirst  tidings  to  her  kinswoman  in 
far-off  Galilee.  It  was  not  in  the  solemn  grandeur  of  the  Temple, 
between  the  golden  altar  of  incense  and  the  seven-branched  candle- 
sticks that  the  Angel  Gabriel  now  appeared,  bat  in  the  privacy  of  a 
humble  home  at  Nazareth.  The  greatest  honor  bestowed  on  man 
was  to  come  amidst  circumstances  of  deepest  human  lowliness,  as  if 
the  more  clearly  to  mark  the  exclusively  Divine  character  of  what 
was  to  happen.  And,  although  the  awe  of  the  Supernatural  must 
unconsciousl}^  have  fallen  upon  her,  it  was  not  so  much  the  sudden 
appearance  of  the  mysterious  stranger  in  her  retirement  that  startled 
the  maiden,  as  the  words  of  his  greeting,  implying  unthought  bless- 
ing. The  'Peace  to  thee'^  was,  indeed,  the  well-known  salutation, 
while  the  words,  'The  Lord  is  with  thee'  might  waken  the  remem- 
judg.  vi.  brance  of  the  Angelic  call,  to  great  deliverance  in  the  past.''  But 
this  designation  of  '  highly  favored '  ^  came  upon  her  Avith  bewilder- 
ing surprise,  perhaps  not  so  much  from  its  contrast  to  the  humble- 
ness of  her  estate,  as  from  the  self-conscious  humility  of  her  heart. 
And  it  was  intended  so,  for  of  all  feelings  this  would  now  most 
become  her.  Accordingly,  it  is  this  story  of  special  '  favour '  or  grace, 
which  the  Angel  traces  in  rapid  outline,  from  the  conception  of  the 
Yirgin-Mother  to  the  distinctive.  Divinely-given  Xame,  symbolic  of 
the  meaning  of  His  coming;  His  absolute  greatness;  His  acknow- 
ledgment as  the  Son  of  God;  and  the  fulfillment  in  Him  of  the  great 


I  The  assertion  of  Professor  Wiinsche  the  Hebrew  j;«?r  ^"'^  f"*^''  ^'^^  correctness 
(Neue  Beitr.  zur  Erliiuter.  d.  Evaug.  p.  7)  of  it  refer  the  reader  to  Grimm'' f<  remarks 
that  the  practice  of  betrothal  was  confined  on  1  Mace.  x.  18  (Exeget.  Handb.  zu  d. 
exclusively,  or  almost  so,  to  Judaea,  is  Apokryph.  3"«^  Lief.  p.  149). 
quite  ungrounded.  The  passages  to  which  *  Bengel  aptly  remarks.  '  Non  ut  mater 
he  refers  (Kethub.  i.  5 — not  3 — and  gratiae,  sed  ut  filiagratite.'  Even  Jfrew// 
especially  Keth.  12  a)  are  irrelevant.  Trn/lor's  remarks  (Life  of  Christ,  ed. 
Keth.  V2  fi  marks  the  simpler  and  i)urer  Pickering,  vol.  i.  p.  .OG)  would  here  re- 
customs  of  Galilee,  but  does  not  refer  to  quire  modification.  Following  the  best 
betrothals.  critical  authorities.   I  have  omitted  the 

-  I  have  rendered  the  Greek  xocip^  by  words,  'Blessed  art  tliou  among  women.' 


THE   ANNUNCIATION   TO   THE    VIROIN. 


151 


Davidic  hope,  with  its  never-ceasing  royalty,^  and  its  never-ending, 
boundless  Kingdom.^ 

In  all  this,  however  marvellous,  tliere  could  V)e  nothing  strange 
to  those  who  cherished  in  their  hearts  Israel's  great  hope,  not  merely 
as  an  article  of  abstract  belief,  but  as  mattei-  of  certain  fact — least 
of  all  to  the  maiden  of  the  lineage  of  David,  beti'othed  to  him  of  the 
house  and  lineage  of  David.  So  long  as  the  hand  of  prophetic  bless- 
ing rested  on  the  house  of  David,  and  before  its  linger  had  pointed  to 
the  individual  who  '  found  favor '  in  the  highest  sense,  the  con- 
sciousness of  possibilities,  which  scarce  dai-cd  shape  themselves  into 
definite  thoughts,  must  at  times  have  stirred  nameless  feelings — 
perhaps  the  more  often  in  circumstances  of  outward  depression  and 
humility,  such  as  those  of  the  'Holy  Family,'  Nor  was  there  any- 
thing strange  even  in  the  naming  of  the  yet  unconceived  Child.  It 
sounds  like  a  saying  current  among  tlic  people  of  old,  this  of  the 
Rabbis,''  concerning  the  six  whose  names  were  given  before  their 
birth:  Isaac,  Ishmael,  Moses,  Solomon,  Josiah,  and  'the  Name  of  the 
Messiah,  Whom  may  the  Holy  One,  lilessed  be  His  Name,  bring 
quickly  in  our  days  ! '  ^  But  as  for  the  deejier  meaning  of  the  name 
Jesus,"  which,  like  an  unopened  bud,  enclosed  the  flower  of  His 
Passion,  that  was  mercifully  yet  the  unthought-of  secret  of  that 
sword,  which  should  pierce  the  soul  of  the  Virgin-Mother,  and  which 
only  His  future  history  would  lay  open  to  her  and  to  others. 

Thus,  on  the  supposition  of  tlie  readiness  of  her  believing  heart, 
and  her  entire  self-unconsciousness,  it  would  have  been  only  the 
glorious  announcement  of  the  inqiending  event,  which  would  absorb 
her  thinking — with  nothing  strange  about  it,  or  that  needed  further 
light,  than  the  lioiu  of  her  own  connection  with  it.^     And  the  words. 


CHAP 
IV 


a  Pirqe  tJe 
K.  El.  32. 
at  the  be- 
ginning 


b  St.  Matt, 
i.  21 


1  We  here  refer,  as  an  intei'estinc;  cor- 
roboration, to  the  Tar^um  on  Ps.  xlv.  7 
((>  In  our  A. v.).  But  thi.s  interest  is  in- 
tensely increased  when  we  read  it,  not  as 
in  our  editions  of  the  Tarfi;;uni,  but  as 
found  in  a  M.S.  copj'  of  the  year  1208 
feiven  by  Levy  in  his  Tara;uin.  Wcirterl). 
vol.  i.  p.  390'  (t).  Transiatinjj;  it  from 
that  reading,  tlie  Tara;uni  thus  renders 
Ps.  xlv.  7,  '  Thy  throne,  0  God,  in  the 
heaven  '  (Levy  renders,  '  Thy  throne  from 
God  in  heaven,'  but  in  either  case  it  re- 
fers to  the  throne  of  the  Messiah)  '  is 
for  ever  and  ever'  (for  'world  witliout 

end,' ^^D'lr  "|^:c'"ir.  'a  rule  of  rit;-hteous- 
ness  is  the  rule  of  Thy  kingdom,  O  Thou 
Kill";  Messiah ! ' 


^  In  Pir(|i'  de  R.  El.  c.  11,  the  same 
boundless  dominion  is  ascribed  to  Mes- 
siah the  Kiii.f;'.  In  that  curious  passa.se 
dominion  is  ascribed  to  'ten  kiuiis,'  the 
tii'st  beinii'  r4od,  tlie  ninth  the  Alessiah. 
and  the  tenth  a.iiain  God,  to  Wliom  the 
kiii<;-dom  would  be  delivered  in  the  end, 
accordiui;  to  Is.  xliv.  (5;  Zecliar.  xiv.  9; 
Ezek.  xxxiv.  24,  with  the  result  described 
in  Is.  lii.  9. 

■^  Professor  Wilnfiehe's  ([notation  is 
here  not  exact  (u.  s.  p.  414). 

*  Weis^  (Leben  Jesu.  1SS2.  vol.  i.  p. 
213)  riffhtly  calls  attention  to  the  humility 
of  her  self-sui-render,  when  she  willinii'ly 
submitted  to  wliat  her  heart  would  feel 
hardest  to  beai- — that  of  incurrinij  sus- 
picion of  her  purity  in  the  si,t>;ht  of  all. 


152 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK      which  she  spake,  were  not  of  trembling  doubt,  that  required  to  lean 
H         on  the  staff  of~a  'sign,'  but  rather  those  of  enquiry,  lor  the  further 

^- — ~> '  guidance  of  a  willing  self-surrender.     The  Angel  had  pointed   her 

opened  eyes  to  the  shining  path:  that  was  not  strange;  only,  that 
She  should  walk  in  it,  seemed  so.  And  now  the  Angel  still  further 
unfolded  it  in  words  which,  however  little  she  may  have  understood 
their  full  meaning,  had  again  nothing  strange  about  them,  save  once 
more  that  sAe  should  be  thus  'favoured";  words  which,  even  to  her 
understanding,  must  have  carried  yet  further  thoughts  of  Divine 
favour,  and  so  deepened  her  humility.  For,  the  idea  of  the  activity 
of  the  Holy  Ghost  in  all  great  events  was  quite  familiar  to  Israel  at 
the  time,^  even  though  the  Individuation  of  the  Holy  Ghost  may 
not  have  l^een  fully  apprehended.  Only,  that  they  expected  such 
influences  to  rest  exclusively  upon  those  who  were  either  mighty,  or 

i-Nedar-ssa  rich,  Or  wisc."  And  of  this  twofold  manifestation  of  miraculous 
'  favour  ' — that  she,  and  as  a  Virgin,  should  be  its  subject — Gabriel, 
'  the  might  of  God,'  gave  this  unasked  sign,  in  what  had  happened  to 
her  kinswoman  Elisabeth. 

The  sign  was  at  the  same  time  a  direction.  The  first,  Init  also 
the  ever-deepening  desire  in  the  heart  of  Mary,  when  the  Angel  left 
her,  must  have  been  to  be  away  from  Nazareth,  and  for  the  relief  of 
opening  her  heart  to  a  woman,  in  all  things  like-minded,  who  perhaps 
might  speak  blessed  words  to  her.  And  to  such  an  one  the  Angel 
himself  seemed  to  have  directed  her.  It  is  only  what  we  would  have 
expected,  that  '  with  haste '  she  should  have  resorted  to  her  kins- 
woman, without  loss  of  time,  and  before  she  would  speak  to  her 
betrothed  of  what  even  in  wedded  life  is  the  first  secret  whispered.^ 

It  could  have  been  no  ordinary  welcome  that  would  greet  the 
Yirgin-Mother,  on  entering  the  house  of  her  kinswoman.  Elisabeth 
must  have  learnt  from  her  husband  the  destiny  of  their  son,  and 
hence  the  near  Advent  of  the  Messiah.  But  she  could  not  have 
known  either  when,  or  of  ivhom  He  would  be  born.  When,  by  a 
sign  not  quite  strange  to  Jewish  expectancy,*  she  recognised  in  her 


but  especially  in  that  of  her  betrothed. 
The  whole  account,  as  we  gather  from 
St.  Luke  ii.  19,  5L  must  have  been  de- 
rived  from  the  i)ersonal  recollections  of 
the  Virgin-Mother. 

'  So  in  almost  innumerable  Rabbinic 
passages. 

'^  This  in  answer  to  the  objection,  so 
pertinaciously  urged,  of  inconsistency 
with  the  narrative  in  St.  Matt.  i.  19  &c. 


It  is  clear,  that  Mary  went  '  with  liaste ' 
to  her  kinswoman,  and  that  any  com- 
munlcatio)!  to  .Joseph  could  only  have 
taken  place  after  that,  and  after  the 
Angelic  prediction  was  in  all  its  parts 
confirmed  by  her  visit  to  Elisabeth. 
Jeremy  Taylor  (u.  s.  p.  64)  has  already 
arranged  the  narrative  as  in  tlie  text. 

•^  According  to   Jewish  tradition,   the 
yet   unborn   infants    in    tlieir    uiotlier's 


tup:   f^ALUTATlON   OF   ELISABETH   AND   HYMN   OF   MARY. 


163 


near  kinswoman  the  Mother  of  her  Lord,  her  salutation  was  that  ol"  a 
mother  U)  a  mother — the  mother  of*  the  '  preparer  '  to  the  mother  of 
Him  for  Whom  he  would  i)repare.  To  be  more  precise:  the  words 
vvhicli,  filled  with  the  Holy  Uhost,  she  spake,  were  the  mother's 
utterance,  to  the  mother,  of  the  homage  which  her  unborn  babe 
ottered  to  his  Lord;  while  the  answering  liymn  of  Mar}'  was  the 
ort'ering  of  that  honmge  unto  God.  It  was  the  antiphonal  morning- 
psalmody  of  the  Messianic  day  as  it  broke,  of  which  the  words  were 
still  all  of  the  old  dispensation,^  but  their  music  of  the  new;  the 
keynote  being  that  of  'favour,'  'grace,'  struck  by  the  Angel  in  his 
ttrst  salutation:  '  favour '  to  the  Virgin;-'  'favour,'  eternal  'favour' 
to  all  His  humble  and  poor  ones;''  and  '  favour'  to  Israel,  stretching 
in  golden  line  from  the  calling  of  Al)raham  to  the  glorious  future 
that  now  opened.''  Not  one  of  these  fundamental  ideas  but  lay 
strictly  within  the  range  of  the  Old  Testament;  and  yet  all  of  them 
now  lay  beyond  it,  bathed  in  the  golden  light  of  the  new  day. 
Miraculous  it  all  is,  and  professes  to  be;  not  indeed  in  the  connection 
of  these  events,  which  succeed  each  other  with  psychological  truth- 
fulness; nor  yet  in  their  language,  which  is  of  the  times  and  the 
circumstances;  but  in  the  underlying  facts. ^  And  for  these  there 
can  be  no  other  evidence  than  the  Life,  the  Death,  and  the  Resurrec- 
tion of  Jesus  the  Messiah.  If  He  was  such,  and  if  He  really  rose 
from  the  dead,  then,  with  all  soberness  and  solemnity,  such  inception 
of  His  appearance  seems  almost  a  logical  necessity.  But  of  this 
whole  narrative  it  may  be  said,  that  such  inception  of  the  Messianic 
appearance,  such  announcement  of  it,  and  such  manner  of  His  Coming, 
could  never  have  been  invented  by  contemporary  Judaism;  indeed, 
ran  directly  counter  to  all  its  preconceptions.* 


CHAP. 
IV 


» 1st  stanza 
vv.  46-49 

•j  2n(l  stan- 
za, vv.  50-53 

<^  3r(l  stan- 
za, vv.  54-5S 


wombs  responded  by  a"  Amen  to  the 
liynui  of  praise  at  the  Red  Sea.  This  is 
supposed  to  be  indicated  by  the  words 
■^S'^w^  "I'r-D^O  '^^-  '-"^^''ii-  27;  see  also 
iiie  Tarnuin'on  that  verse).  Coniii.  Keth. 
7  i'*  and-Sotali-SO  ('>  (Uxst  line)  and  ;^1  a, 
tliouftli  the  coarse  le,a;endary  explanation 
of  R.  Tanchiuna  mars  the  poetfc  beauty 
of  the  whole. 

'  The  i)oetic  grandeur  and  the  Old 
Testament  cast  of  the  Virgin's  hymn 
(comp.  the  Song  of  Hannah,  1  Sam.  ii. 
1-10),  need  scarcely  he  jiointed  out. 
Perhaps  it  would  read  fullest  and  best 
by  trying  to  recall  what  must  have  been 
its  Hebrew  original. 

-  Weiss,  while  denying  the  historical 
accuracy  of  much  in  the  tjospel-narrative 


of  it,  unhesitatingly  accepts  the  fact  of 
the  supernatui'al  Vurth  of  Jesus. 

^  Keim  elaltorately  discusses  the  origin 
of  what  he  calls  the  legend  of  Christ's 
suiiernatural  conception.  He  arrives  at 
the  conclusion  that  it  was  a  Jewish- 
Christian  legend — as  if  a  Jeifish  inven- 
tion of  such  a  '  legend '  were  not  the  most 
unlikely  of  all  possible  hypotheses!  But 
negative  criticism  is  at  least  bound  to 
furnish  some  historical  basis  for  the 
origination  of  such  an  unlikely  legend. 
Whence  was  the  idea  of  it  lirst  derived  ? 
How  did  it  find  such  ready  acceptance 
in  the  Clmrch  't  Weiss  has,  at  consider- 
able length,  and  very  fully  ,  shown  the 
impossiliility  of  its  origin  either  in  Jew- 
isli  or  iieathen  legend. 


154  VliO^l    BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK  Three  months  liiid  i)iisse(l  since  tlie  Virgin-Mother  entered  the 

n  home  of  her  kinswoman.  And  now  she  must  return  to  Nazareth. 
^— -^^ — '  Soon  Elisabeth's  neighb(jurs  and  kinsfolk  would  gather  with  sympa- 
thetic joy  around  a  home  which,  as  they  thought,  had  experienced 
unexpected  mercy — little  thinking,  liow  wide-reaching  its  conse- 
quences would  be.  But  the  Virgin-Mother  must  not  be  exposed  to 
the  publicity  of  such  meetings.  However  conscious  of  what  had  led 
to  her  condition,  it  must  have  iDeen  as  the  first  sharp  pang  of  the 
sword  which  was  to  pierce  her  soul,  when  she  told  it  all  to  her 
betrothed.  For,  however  deep  his  trust  in  her  whom  he  had  chosen 
for  wife,  only  a  direct  Divine  communication  could  have  chased  all 
questioning  from  his  heart,  and  given  him  that  assurance,  which  was 
needful  in  the  future  history  of  the  Messiah.  Brief  as,  with  exquisite 
delicacy,  the  narrative  is,  we  can  read  in  the  '  thoughts '  of  Joseph 
the  anxious  contending  of  feelings,  the  scarcely  established,  and  yet 
delayed,  resolve  to  *  put  her  away, '  which  could  only  be  done  by 
regular  divorce;  this  one  determination  only  standing  out  clearly, 
that,  if  it  must  be,  her  letter  of  divorce  shall  be  handed  to  her 
privately,  only  in  the  presence  of  two  witnesses.  The  humV)le  Tsaddiq 
of  Nazareth  would  not  willingly  have  brought  the  blush  to  any  face, 
least  of  all  would  he  make  of  her  'a  public  exhibition  of  shame. '^ 
It  was  a  relief  that  he  could  legally  divorce  her  either  publicly  or 
privately,  whether  from  change  of  feeling,  or  because  he  had  found 
just  cause  for  it,  but  hesitated  to  make  it  known,  either  from  regard 
for  his  own  character,  or  because  he  had  not  sufficient  legal  evidence'^ 
of  the  charge.  He  would  follow,  all  unconscious  of  it,  the  truer 
•  Ketii.  74  6  manly  feeling  of  R.  Eliezar,^'  R.  Jochanan,  and  R.  Zera,*"  according 
kKeth  97  6  ^^  which  a  man  would  not  like  to  put  his  wife  to  shame  before  a 
Court  of  Justice,  rather  than  the  opposite  sentence  of  R.  Meir. 

The  assurance,  which  Joseph  could  scarcely  dare  to  hope  for,  was 
miraculously  convej^ed  to  him  in  a  dream-vision.  All  would  now  be 
clear;  even  the  terms  in  which  he  was  addressed  ( '  thou  son  of 
David'),  so  utterly  unusual  in  ordinary  circumstances,  would  prepare 
him  for  tlie  Angel's  message.  The  naming  of  the  unborn  Messiah 
would  accord  with  popular  notions;*  the  symbolism  of  such  a  name 

'  I  bave   thus   paraijhrased  the  verb  witnesses,  or  if  their  testimony  could  be 

TrapcrSez^^/^arz'^&j,  rendered  in  Heb.vi.  6  invalidated  by  an.y  of  those  i)rovision3 

(A.V.)  '  put  to  an  open  shame.'     Comp.  in   favour    of    the    accused,     of    which 

also  LXX.   Num.   xxv.   4;  Jer.   xiii.  22;  traditionalism  had  not  a  few.     Thus,  as 

Ezek.  xxviii.  17  (see  Grimm,  Clavis  X.T.  indicated  in  the  text,  Josei)h  mi2;ht  have 

p.  3:^3  b)  Archdeacon  Farrar  adopts  the  privately  divorced  .Mary,  leaving;  it  open 

reading  dEiy/iaricrai.  to  doubt  on  what  ground  he  had  so  acted. 

-  For  example,  if  he  had  not  sufficient         ■'  See  a  former  note. 


THE   ANGELIC    MESSAGE   TU   JOSEPH. 


155 


was  deeply  rooted  in  Jewish  hclioi';  '  whik'  the  explanation  of 
Jehoslma  or  Jesltua  (Jenas),  as  He  who  would  save  His  people 
(primarily,  as  he  would  understand  it,  Israel)  from  their  sins,  described 
at  least  one  generally  expected  aspect  of  His  Mission,'^  although 
Joseph  may  not  have  known  that  it  was  the  basis  of  all  the  rest. 
And  perhaps  it  was  not  without  deeper  meaning  and  insight  into  His 
character,  that  the  Angel  laid  stress  on  this  very  element  in  His 
communication  to  Joseph,  and  not  to  Mary. 

The  fact  that  such  an  announcement  came  to  Him  in  a  dream, 
would  dispose  Joseph  all  the  more  readily  to  receive  it.  'A  good 
dream'  was  one  of  the  three  things^  popularly  regarded  as  marks  of 
God's  favour;  and  so  general  was  the  belief  in  their  significance,  as  to 
have  passed  into  this  popular  saying:  'If  any  one  sleeps  seven  days 
without  dreaming  (or  rather,  remembering  his  dream  for  interpreta- 
tion), call  him  wicked'  (as  being  unremembered  of  God''*).  Thus 
Divinely  set  at  rest,  Joseph  could  no  longer  hesitate.  The  highest 
<luty  towards  the  Virgin-Mother  and  the  unborn  Jesus  demanded  an 
immediate  marriage,  which  would  afford  not  only  outward,  but  moral 
protection  to  both.^ 


CHAP. 
IV 


•  Tluis  we  read  in  {Shocher  Tubh)  the 
Midrash  on  Pro  v.  xix.  21  (closing  part; 
ed.  Lemberg.  j).  16  5)  of  eight  names 
given  to  tlie  Messiali,  viz.  Yinnon  (Ps. 
Ixxii.  17,  'His  name  shall  sprout  [bear 
sprouts]  before  the  Sun ; '  comi).  also 
Pirqe  de  R.  El.  c.  2);  Jehovah;  Our 
Righteousness;  Tsemach  (the  Branch, 
Zeeh.  iii.  8j;  Menachem  (the  Comforter, 
Is.  li.  3);  Da  rid  (Ps.  xviii.  50);  Shiloh 
(Gen.  xlix.  10);  Elijah  (Mai.  iv.  5).  The 
Messiah  is  also  called  Anani  (He  that 
Cometh  in  the  clouds,  Dan.  vii.  13;  see 
Tanch.  Par.  Toledoth  14);  ChaninahMt^ 
reference  to  Jer.  xvi.  13 ;  the  Lepi-ons, 
with  reference  to  Is.  liii.  4  (Sanh.  96  h). 
It  is  a  curious  instance  of  the  Jewish 
mode  of  explaining  a  meaning  by  gi- 
matreya,  or  numerical  calculation,  that 
they  \^YO\QTspmach  (Branch)  and  Mena- 
chevi  (Comforter)  to  be  the  same,  because 
the  numerical  equivalents  of  the  one 
word  are  equal  to  those  of  the  other: 

r:=40,  :=50,  n=8,  ::=40,  =  i38 ;  a= 

DO.  ?:=40,  n=8,  =  138. 

'  Professor  TT7i??.?c/i(e(Erlauter.  d.Evang. 
p.  10)  proposes  to  strike  out  the  words 
'from  their  sins'  as  an  un-.Jewisli  inter- 
polation. In  answer,  it  would  suffice  to 
point  him  to  the  passages  on  this  very 
subject  which  he  has  collated  in  a  pre- 
vious work :  Die  Leiden  des  Messias,  pp. 


63-108.  To  these  I  will  only  add  a  com- 
ment in  the  Midrash  on  Cant.  i.  14  (ed. 
Warshau,  p.  \\a  and  li),  where  the  re- 
ference is  undoubtedly  to  the  Messiali  (in 
the  words  of  R.  Berakhyah,  line  8  from 
bottom;  and  again  in  the  words  of  R. 
Levi,  11  'b,  line  5  from  top,  Ac).  The 
expression  ^r^H  i^  there  explained  as 
meaning  'He  Who  makes  expiation  for  the 
sins  of  Israel.'  and  it  is  distinctly  added 
that  this  expiation  bears  reference  to  the 
transgressions  aiul  evil  deeds  of  the 
children  of  Abraham,  for  which  God 
provides  this  Man  as  the  Atonement. 

^  '  A  good  king,  a  fruitful  year,  and  a 
good  dream.' 

*  Rabbi  Zera  proves  this  by  a  reference 
to  Prov.  xLx.  23,  the  reading  Sabhea  (sat- 
isfied) being  altered  .into  Shebha — both 
written  -jy^ — while  'j"*:'*'  is  understood  as 
of  siiending  the  night.  Ber.  55  a  to  o't  b 
contains  a  long,  and  sometimes  verj^ 
coarse,  discussion  of  dreams,  giving  their 
various  interpretations,  rules  for  avoid- 
ing the  consequences  of  evil  dreams,  «tc. 
The  fundamental  principle  is,  that  '  a 
dream  is  according  to  its  interpretation ' 
(Ber.  55  /;).  Such  views  about  dreams 
would,  no  doulit,  have  long  been  matter 
of  popular  lielief.  before  being  foi'mally 
expressed  in  tlie  Talmud. 

^  The  objection,  tluu   tlie  account  of 


156  FROM    BETHLEHEM    TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK  Vie\vin«>;  events,  not  as  isolated,  but  as  links  welded  in  the  golden 

n         chain  of  the  history  of  the  King'doni  of  (iod,  'all  this' — not  only  the 

^^ — ~." — '  birth  of  Jesus  from  a  Virgin,  nor  even  His  symbolic  Name  with  its 
import,  but  also  the  unrestful  questioning  of  Josei)h,  —  'happened' ' 

»is.  vii.  11  in  fulfilment^  of  what  had  ])een  prefigured/  The  promise  of  a  Virgin- 
born  son  as  a  sign  of  the  firmness  of  God's  covenant  of  old  with  David 
and  his  house;  the  now  unfolded  meaning  of  the  former  symbolic 
name  Iminanuel;  even  the  unbelief  of  Ahaz,  with  its  counterpart  in 
the  questioning  of  Joseph — 'all  this'  could  now  be  clearly  read  in 
the  light  of  the  breaking  day.  Never  had  the  house  of  David  sunk 
morally  lower  than  when,  in  the  words  of  Ahaz,  it  seemed  to  renounce 
the  very  foundation  of  its  claim  to  continuance;  never  had  the 
fortunes  of  the  house  of  David  fallen  lower,  timn  when  a  Herod  sat 
,on  its  throne,  and  its  lineal  representative  was  a  humble  village 
carpenter,  from  whose  heart  doubts  of  the  Virgin-Mother  had  to  be 
Divinely  chased.  And  never,  not  even  when  God  gave  to  the  doubts 
of  Moses  this  as  the  sign  of  Israel's  future  deliverance,  that  in  that 

»>Ex. ni.  12  mountain  they  should  worship'' — had  unbelief  been  answered  by 
more  strange  evidence.  But  as,  nevertheless,  the  stal)ility  of  the 
Davidic  house  was  ensured  by  the  future  advent  of  Immanuel — and 
with  such  certainty,  that  before  even  such  a  child  could  discern 
between  choice  of  good  and  evil,  the  land  would  be  freed  of  its 
dangers;  so  now  all  that  was  then  prefigured  was  to  become  literally 
true,  and  Israel  to  be  sailed  from  its  real  danger  by  the  Advent  of 
Jesus,  Immanuel.*     And  so  it  had  all  been  intended.     The  golden 

Joseph  and  Mary's  immediate  marriage      loss  (Wiinsche)  2*n2"l  NIH  N"",    but,  as 

is  inconsistent  witli  tlie   designation  of      Professor  Delitzscb  renders  it,  in  liis  new 

Mary  in  St.  Lul^e  ii.  5,  is  sufficiently  re-      translation  of   St.  Mattiiew,   nx  mx""'?:'i 

futed  by  the  consideration  that,   in  any  Ti^^/iifp^..^,,,,^  ;=■;.,., ^^..t^r,/ 

,,        •'       ^     .  ,•       ,  1 1      <- u  ^"1  "iTi  "iwy.    Ihetlitferenee  IS  important, 

other  case,  Jewish  custom  would  not  have  '- '    ^«^  '  ' 

allowed  Mary  to  travel  to  Bethlehem  in  a"^!   Dehtzsch's    translation  completely 

company  with  Joseph.     The  expression  established  by  the  snnilar  rendering  of 

used  in  St.  Luke  ii.  5,  must  be  read  in  the  LXX.  of  1  Kings  ii.  27  and  2  Chron. 

connection  with  St.  Matt.  i.  25.  xxxvi.  22. 

1  Ilaupt  (Alttestam.   Citate  in  d.  vier  '  A  critical  discussion  of  Ls.   vii.   14 

Evang.   i)p.  207-215)  rightly  lays  stress  would  here  be  out  of  place;    though  I 

on  the  words,  '  all  this  was  done:    He  'i-^ve  attempted  to  express  my  views  in 

even  extends  its  reference  to  the  three-  the  text.     (The  nearest  approacli  to  them 

fold  arrangement  of   the  genealogy  by  i^  that  by  Engelhardt  in  the  Zeitschr.  fur 

St.  Matthew,  as  implying  the  ascending  Lut'i.  Theol.  fur  ls72,  Ileft   iv.).      Tlie 

splendour    of    the    line    of    David,    its  quotation  of  St.   Matthew  follows,  with 

middav  glory,  and  its  decline.  scarcely  any  variation,  tlie  rendering  of 

-  The  correct  Hebrew  equivalent  of  the  the  LXX.     That  theD  should  have  trans- 

rxpression    'that  it   might  be   fulfilled'  lated  the  Hebrew  ^-ji^'-i^"!  by  TrapSfVo?,  'a 

'iva  TtXii pa)(ir]  is   not,  as  Siirenhusiits  Virgin,'  is  surely  sufficient  evidence  of 

(Biblos  Katallages,    i).    151)    and   other  the  admissibility  of    such  a   rendering. 

Vi'riters   have    it,   iT^SiiL?  n?2  D''^r>>  *^till  The  idea  that  the  promised  Son  was  to  l)e 


CIRCUMCISION    AND    NAMIXCI    OF   JOHN. 


157 


cup  of  prophecy  wliicli  Isaiali  had  i)hiced  einpt}^  on  the  Holy  Table, 
waiting  for  the  time  of  the  end,  was  now  full  HIUmI,  up  to  its  hrini, 
with  the  new  wine  of  the  Kingdom. 

Meanwliile  the  long-looked-for  event  had  taken  place  in  the  home 
of  Zacharias.  No  domestic  solemnity  so  important  or  so  joyous  as 
that  in  which,  by  circumcision,  the  ehild  had,  as  it  Avere,  laid  ui)on  it 
the  yoke  of  the  Law,  Avitli  all  of  duty  and  privilege  which  this  imi)lied. 
Even  the  circumstance,  that  it  took  i)lace  at  early  morning  '■'  might 
indicate  this.  It  was,  so  tradition  has  it,  as  if  the  tiither  had  acted 
sacriflcially  as  High-Priest,''  offering  his  child  to  God  in  gratitude  and 
love;"  and  it  symbolised  thi.s  deeper  moral  truth,  that  "man  must  ])y 
his  own  act  complete  what  God  had  first  instituted.''  To  Zacharias 
and  Elisabeth  the  I'ite  would  have  even  more  than  this  significance, 
as  a(hninistered  to  the  child  of  their  old  age,  so  miraculously  given, 
and  who  was  connected  with  such  a  future.  Besides,  the  legend  wliich 
associates  circumcision  with  Elijah,  as  the  restorer  of  this  rite  in  the 
apostate  ]^eriod  of  the  Kings  of  Israel, *"  was  probably  in  circulation  at 
the  time.'  We  can  scarcely  1)0  mistaken  in  supposing,  that  then,  as 
now,  a  benediction  was  si)oken  l)efore  circumcision,  and  that  the 
ceremony  closed  with  the  usual  grace  over  the  cup  of  wine,-  when  the 
cliild  received  his  name  in  a  prayer  that  jjrobably  did  not  much  ditfer 
from  this  at  j)resent  in  use:  -Our  God,  and  tlie  God  of  our  fathers, 
raise  up  this  child  to  his  father  and  mother,  and  let  his  name  be 
called  in  Israel  Zacharias.  the  son  of  Zacharias.'^     Let  his  fatlier  re- 


CHAP. 
IV 


Pes.  4  a 


'•  Yalkiit 
SIi.  i.  par. 
81 

'  Tanch.  P. 
Tetsavveh, 
at  the  be- 
ginnlnK, 
ed.  War- 
shaii,  J).  Ill 
a 

'1  Taneli. 

U.    M. 

f  Pirqi'  do 
K.  E11(!S.  c. 
29 


either  that  of  Ahaz,  or  else  of  tlie  projiliet, 
cannot  stand  the  test  of  critical  investi- 
gation (see //r^»;'^  U.S., and  /jo///,  Alttest. 
Citate  im  N.T.  pp.  :!-(i).  Our  difiiculties 
of  interpretation  are.  in  .i^reat  part,  due 
to  the  abruptness  of  Isaiah's  i)roplietic 
hinijuaii'e,  and  to  our  iunorance  of  sur- 
roundinu-  circumstances.  Sfe/'i/mi'i/er  in- 
geniously argues  agaiitjit  the  niytliical 
theory  that,  since  Is.  vii.  14  was  i/of 
interjireted  by  the  ancient  Synagogue 
in  a  Messianic  sense,  that  passage  could 
not  have  led  to  the  origination  of  -the 
legend '  about  the  '  Virgin's  Son  '  (Gesch. 
rt.Geb.  d.  Herrn,  p.  (io).  We  add  this 
further  (|uestion.  1J7/c//(y^  did  it  oi'igin- 
ate  ? 

'  Probably  the  designation  of  •chaii" 
or  'throne  of  Elijah.' for  the  cliair  on 
whicii  the  godparent  holding  tlie  child 
sits,  and  certaiidy  the  invocalioi:  of  lOli- 
jah,  are  of  later  date.  Indeetl,  the  in- 
stitution of  godi)arents  is  itself  of  later 
origin.  Curiously  enough,  the  Council 
of  Terracina,   in    i:!;!0,   liad  to   interdict 


Christians  acting  as  godparents  at  cir- 
cumcision !  Even  the  great  P.uxtorf 
acted  as  godparent  in  Kilt)  to  a  .lewish 
child,  and  was  condemned  to  a  tine  of  100 
florins  for  his  otl'ence.  See  Loir,  Lebens- 
alter,  ]).  8(i. 

-  Accoi'dingIo./asY'yy/i'//.s' (Ag.  A\).  ii.  2(5) 
circumcision  was  m)t  followed  by  a  feast. 
I)Ut.  if  this  be  true,  the  i)ractice  wassoou 
altered,  and  the  feast  took  i)lace  on  the 
eve  t)f  circumcision  (.ler.  Keth,  i.  .">:  B. 
Kanui  so  a:  ]].  Ikith.  (iO  />.  Ac.  I.  Eater 
.Midrashim  ti'aced  it  ui)  to  the  history  of 
Abraham  and  the  feast  at  tlu>  weaning 
of  Isaac,  which  they  represented  as  one- 
al  circumcision  (Pinie  d.  1'.  Eliez.  29). 

'  Wiinsche  I'eiterates  the  groundless 
objection  of  IJabbi  Edw  (u.  s.  p.  !)(i),  that 
a  fannly-name  was  oidy  given  in  remem- 
brance of  the  grandfather,ci'rr(v^s'M/ father. 
oi-  other  member  of  the  family  I  Sli'ange, 
that  such  a  statenu'Ut  should  ever  have 
l)een  hazarded:  stranger  still,  that  it 
slioidd  be  rejK'atecl  after  having  been 
bdiv  refuted   bv  Pelitzsch.      It    certaiidy 


158  FJUm    I5ETIILEIIEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      j<)ic(^  in  tlie  issue  of  his  loins,  and  liis  mother  in  the  fruit  of  her  womb, 

II         as  it  is  written  in  Prov.  xxiii.  25,  and  as  it  is  said  in  Ezek.  xvi.  6, 

^-^^"^ — '   and  again  in  I*s.  ev.  H,  and  Gen.  xxi.  4; '  the  {)assages  being,  of  course, 

quoted  in  full.     The  prayer  closed  with  the  hope  that  the  child  might 

grow   up,    and    successfully,    '  attain   to   the   Torah,  the   nmrriage- 

baldachino,  and  good  works.' ' 

Of  all  this  Zacharias  was,  though  a  deeply  interested,  yet  a  deaf 
and  dunib'^  witness.  This  only  had  he  noticed,  that,  in  the  benedic- 
tion in  Avhich  the  child's  name  was  inserted,  the  mother  had  inter- 
rupted the  i)rayer.  Without  explaining  her  reason,  she  insisted  that 
liis  name  should  not  be  that  of  his  aged  father,  as  in  the  peculiai' 
circumstances  might  have  been  expected,  but  John  {Jochana7i).  A 
reference  to  the  father  only  deei)encd  the  general  astonishment,  when 
he  also  gave  the  same  name.  But  this  was  not  the  sole  cause  for 
nuirvel.  For,  forthwith  the  tongue  of  the  duml)  was  loosed,  and  he, 
who  c(nUd  not  utter  the  name  of  the  child,  now  burst  into  praise  of 
the  name  of  the  Lord.  His  last  words  had  been  those  of  uni)elief, 
his  tirst  were  those  of  praise;  his  last  words  had  been  a  question  of 
doubt,  his  first  were  a  hymn  of  assurance.  Strictly  Hebrew  in  its 
cast,  and  closely  following  Old  Testament  i)rophccy,  it-  is  remarkable 
— and  yet  almost  natural — that  this  hynni  of  the  Priest  closely 
follows,  and,  if  the  expression  be  allowable,  spiritualises  a  great  part 
of  the  most  ancient  Jewish  prayer:  the  so-called  PJighteen  Benedic- 
tions; rather  perhaps,  that  it  transforms  the  expectancy  of  that 
prayer  into  praise  of  its  realisation.  And  if  we  bear  in  mind,  that  a 
great  portion  of  these  prayers  was  said  by  the  Priests  before  the  lot 
was  cast  for  incensing,  or  by  the  people  in  the  time  of  incensing,  it 
almost  seems  as  if,  during  the  long  period  of  his  enforced  solitude, 
the  aged  Priest  had  meditated  on,  and  learned  to  understand,  what 
so  often  he  luid  repeated.  Opening  with  the  common  form  of  bene- 
diction, his  hymn  struck,  one  by  one,  the  deepest  chords  of  that 
])rayer,  specially  this  the  most  significant  of  all  (the  fifteenth  P^ulogy), 
'  Speedily  make  to  shoot  forth  the  Branch  ^  of  David,  Thy  servant,  and 

iscontraryto  f7o.s'6'7>/('».s'(War  iv.  3,  9),  and  Zacharias  was  what  the  Rabbis  nnder- 

lo  tiu>  circumstance  tliat  both  the  father  stood  by  w'l" — one  deaf  as  well  as  dumb, 

and  hriitlier  of  .losephus  bore  the  name  Accordin:i;ly  tliey  communicated  with  liini 

of  Matthias,    i^ee  also  Zuiiz  (Z.  Gesch.  u.  by  C^T'il  '  siirns  '. — as  Delitzscli  correctly 

Liter.  |).  :^18).  renders  it :  rjN'-'-'^?  ^T?:-n 

'  The  reader  will  Hnd  £.//.  .4 ''pri'>r/t7/\  ■<    .,.,        i     i        *    n        i            »i      • 

,,    .^,     ,1      1          ,    •»!         IT  T          •   *  Althouirh  almo.st  a  1  modern  authori- 

Herith  Abraham    with  a  Hebrew  mtro-  ..                   •     »            r             *               i 

,     ^.     ,         •   *        ^-        ^     ,,-  ^           *i  ties  are  against   me.   I  cannot  in'rsuade 

duction   an   interestnifj   tractate  on  the  i*:  ti    ♦  ti                  •      -c'*   i    i     •   "u^ 

,  .     ^  '  T-.           n           1                        •  myself  that  the exniession  s-t.  Luke  1.  ^'^ 

subject.  For  another  and  youni^er  version  •   ,       ,     ,          •      ,  .            *  ^r  •    i 

tA                              J..  •        "       ,„.,  rendered  •  daysorinir    in  our  A.  V.  is  here 

of  these  prayers,  see  Loir.  u.  s.    >.  102.  ,  ,,            •  '   i     ^      .•  <i      ir  \         -ha^. 

•^  From  8t.  Luke  i.  62  we  -ather.  that  "^'^  ^''^^  equiyalent   ot   the  Hebrew  n^^ 


HYMN   OF   ZACHAK'IAS.  I59 

<'xalt  Thou  liis  Iiorii  l)y  Thy  salvation,  lor  in  Thy  salvation  wo  trust      CHAP. 
all  the  day  long-.    Jilesscd  art  Thou,  Jehovah!    Who  causeth  to  spring-         IV 

forth  the  Horn  of  Salvation'  (literally,  to  braneluforth).   This  analogy    - — ^. ' 

between  the  hymn  of  Zacharias  and  the  prayers  of  Israel  will  best 
appear  from  the  benedietions  Avith  whieh  these  eulogies  closed.  For. 
when  thus  examined,  their  leading  thoughts  will  be  found  to  be  as 
follows:  God  as  the  Shield  of  Abraham',  He  that  raises  the  dead,  and 
causes  salvation  to  shoot  forth:  the  Holy  One;  Who  graciously  fjireth 
knowledge;  Who  taketh  pleasure  in  repentance;  Who  multiplieth 
forgiveness;  Who  redeemeth  Israel;  Who  hecdeth  their  (spiritual) 
diseases;  Who  blesseth  the  years;  Who  gathereth  the  outcasts  of  His 
jieople;  Who  loveth  righteousness  and  judgment;  Who  is  the  abode 
and  stay  of  the  righteous;  Who  buildeth  Jerusalem;  Who  causeth  the 
Horn  of  Scduation  to  shoot  forth;  Who  heareth  prayer;  Who  bringeth 
back  His  Shekhinah  to  Zion;  God  the  Gracious  One,  to  Whom  praise 
is  due;  Who  blesseth  His  people  Israel  luith  peace. 

It  was  all  most  fitting.  The  question  of  unbelief  had  struck  the 
Priest  duml),  for  most  truly  unbelief  cannot  speak;  and  the  answer 
of  faith  restored  to  him  speech,  for  most  truly  does  faith  loosen  the 
tongue.  The  first  eviilenee  of  his  duud)ness  had  been,  that  his 
tongue  refused  to  speak  the  benediction  to  tlie  people;  and  the  first 
i'vidence  of  his  restored  power  was,  that  he  spoke  the  benediction  of 
God  in  a  rapturous  burst  of  praise  and  thanksgiving.  Tlie  sign  of 
the  unbelieving-  Priest  stamling  before  the  awe-struck  people,  vainly 
essaying  to  make  himself  understood  by  signs,  was  most  fitting;  most 
fitting  also  that,  when  'they  made  signs  '  to  him,  the  believing  father 
should  burst  in  their  hearing  into  a  prophetic  hynni. 

But  far  and  wide,  as  these  marvellous  tidings  spread  throughout 
the  hill-country  of  Juda'a,  fear  fell  on  all — the  fear  also  of  a  nameless 
hope.  The  silence  of  a  long-clouded  day  had  l)een  broken,  and  the 
light  whieh  had  suddenly  riven  its  gloom,  laid  itself  on  their  hearts 
in  exj)ectancy:  'What  then  shall  this  Child  be?  Yw  the  Hand  of 
the  Lord  also  was  Avith  Him!'- 

*  Branch."     Tlip  LXX.   at  any  rate  reii-  The  Eighteen  Eulo2;ies  are  iriveii  in  full 

(lered -^;^J  in  Jer.  xxiii.  5 :  Ezeis.  xvi.  7:  in  the   •  Hi.story  of  the   Jewish   Nation,' 

wii.  10;  Zech.  iii.  8;  vi.  12,  by  dvaroA)).  pp.  8(;3-:i(j7. 

'  Tiie  italic.-i  mark  tlie  point.s  of  corre-  -'  The  insertion  of  yap  seems  criticallj' 

siiondenee  witli  tlie  hymn  of  Zaeharias.  estalilished,  and  gives  the  fuller  meau- 

Comp.   the  best   edition   of  the   Jewish  ing.  j 

Prayer  Book  (Frankfort,  5601),  pp.  21-28. 


100  FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JOKD.LN. 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHAT    MESSIAH  DID  THE  JEWS  EXPECT? 

BOOK      It  were  an  extremely  narrow,  and,  indeed,  false  view,  to  regard  the 
II         diti'erence  between  Judaism  and  Christianity  as  contined  to  the  ques- 

■""^  '  tion  of  the  fultillment  of  certain  prophecies  in  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
These  i)redictions  could  only  outline  individual  features  in  the  Person 
and  history  of  the  Messiah.  It  is  not  thus  that  a  likeness  is  recog- 
nised, hut  rather  by  the  combination  of  the  various  features  into  a 
unity,  and  by  the  expression  Avhich  gives  it  meaning.  So  far  as  we 
can  gather  from  the  Gospel  narratives,  no  objection  was  ever  taken  to 
the  fulfillment  of  individual  prophecies  in  Jesus.  But  the  general 
conception  Avhich  the  Rabbis  had  formed  of  the  Messiah,  differed 
totally  from  what  was  presented  by  thi;  Prophet  of  Nazareth.  Thus, 
what  is  the  fundamental  divergence  between  the  two  may  be  said  to 
have  existed  long  before  the  events  Avhich  finally  divided  them.  It 
is  the  coml)ination  of  letters  which  constitute  words,  and  the  same 
letters  may  be  combined  into  different  words.  Similarly,  both  Rab- 
binism  and — what,  by  anticipation,  we  designate — Christianity  might 
regard  the  same  predictions  as  Messianic,  and  look  for  their  fullill- 
nient;  while  at  the  same  tiuie  the  Messianic  ideal  of  the  Synagogue 
might  be  quite  other  than  that,  to  which  tlie  faith  and  hope  of  the 
Church  have  clung. 

1.  The  most  important  point  here  is  to  keep  in  mind  the  organic 
yi///i'j'/ of  tiie  Old  Testament.  Its  predictions  are  not  isolateil,  but 
features  of  one  grand  projjhetic  picture;  its  ritual  and  institutions 
l)arts  of  one  great  system;  its  history,  not  loosely  connected  events, 
but  an  organic  development  tending  towards  a  definite  end.  Viewed 
in  its  innermost  substance,  the  hist(UT  of  the  Old  Testament  is  not 
difl'erent  from  its  typical  institutions,  nor  yet  these  two  from  its  pre- 
dictions. The  idea,  underlying  all,  is  God's  gracious  manifestation  in 
the  world — the  Kingdom  of  (Jod:  the  meaning  of  all — the  establish- 
ment of  this  Kingdom  n])on  earth.  That  gracious  ])uriiosc  was,  so  to 
speak,  individualized,  and  flic  Kingdom   actinilly  cstablislied   in  the 


THE    OLD    TESTAMENT   VIEW   OE    THE    MESSLVH.  1(J1 

Mesfiiah.      IJolh  llic  fuiKlaiiiciilal  and  the  liiial  rclatioii^liip  in  vioAV  was      CHAP. 
tluit  of  God  towards  man,  and  of  man  towards  God:  tlie  Ibrmcr  ascx-         V 
l)ressod  by  the  word  Fatlier;  the  latter  l)y  that  of  Servant — or  rather  ^~ — ^^^^ — ^ 
theeoni'oinationof  the  two  ideas:  'Son-Servant.'  Tliis  was  already  ini- 
l)lied  in  the  so-called  I'rotevang'el;  ■'  and  in  this  sense  also  the  words   »Gen.  iii.ia 
of  Jesus  hold  true:   '  Before  Abraham  came  into  being,  1  am." 

13ut,  narrowing  our  survey  to  where  the  history  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God  begins  with  that  of  Abraham,  it  was  indeed  as  Jesus  said: 
'  Your  father  Abraham  rejoiced  that  he  should  see  My  day,  and  he 
saw  it,  and  Avas  glad."'     For,  all  that  followed  from  Abraham  to  the  ''St.  johu 

vui.  56 

Messiah  was  one,  and  bore  this  twofold  impress:  heavenwards,  that  of 
Son;  earthwards,  that  of  Servant.  Israel  was  God's  Son — His  'first- 
born ';  their  history  that  of  the  children  of  God;  their  institutions  those 
of  the  family  of  God;  their  predictions  those  of  the  household  of  God. 
And  Israel  was  also  the  Servant  of  God — '  Jacob  My  Servant ';  and  its 
history,  institutions,  and  predictions  those  of  the  Servant  of  the  Lord. 
Yet  not  merely  Servant,  but  Son-Servant — '  anointed  '  to  such  service. 
This  idea  was,  so  to  speak,  crystallised  in  the  three  great  repre- 
sentative institutions  of  Israel.  The  '  Servant  of  the  Lord  '  in  relation 
to  Israel's  history  was  Kingship  in  Israel;  the  'Servant  of  the  Lord' 
in  relation  to  Israel's  ritual  ordinances  was  the  Priesthood  in  Israel; 
the  'Servant  of  the  Lord'  in  relation  to  prediction  was  the  Prophetic 
order.  But  all  sprang  from  the  same  fundamental  idea:  that  of  the 
'  Servant  of  Jehovah." 

One  step  still  remains.  The  Messiah  and  His  history  are  not 
|)resented  in  the  Old  Testament  as  something  separate  from,  or 
superadded  to,  Israel.  The  history,  the  institutions,  and  the  predic- 
tions of  Israel  run  up  into  Him.'  He  is  the  typical  Israelite,  nay, 
typical  Israel  itself — alike  the  crown,  the  completion,  and  the  repre- 
sentative of  Israel.  He  is  the  Son  of  God  and  the  Servant  of  the 
Lord;  but  in  that  highest  and  only  true  sense,  which  had  given  its 
meaning  to  all  the  preparatory  development.  As  He  was  'anointed' 
to  l)e  the  '  Servant  of  the  Lord,'  not  with  the  typical  oil,  but  In-  'the 
Spirit  of  Jehovah'  'upon'  Ilim,  so  was  He  also  the  'Son"  in  a 
nni(jue  sense.  His  organic  connection  Avith  Israel  is  marked  by  the 
<lesignations  'Seed  of  Abraham'  and  'Son  of  David,'  while  at  the 
same  time  He  was  essentially,  what  Israel  was   suliordinately  and 

'  Tn  tilts  resjiect  there  is  deep  siijnifi-  wliioli  Cod   had  shown  to  Israel  in  the 
caiice  in  the  .Jewish   leu'end  (freiiuently  wilderness  would  he  done  a.ii'uin   to  re- 
introduced: see.  for  example.  Tancli.  ii.  deemed  Zion  in  the  •  latter  davs.' 
'.)!)  n\   Del).  R.  1),   that  all   the  nnraeles 


1(52  FKU.M    I]i:TIILEiIEM    TO    JOIJDAN. 

BOOK      tyi)i('ally:   'Thou    art   My    Son — this    day   liavo    I    ])egotten   Thee.' 
II         Hence  also,  in  strictest  truthfulness,  the  Evangelist  could  apply  to  the 

^■^ — ^ '   Messiah  what  referred  to  Israel,  and  see  it  fulfilled  in  Jlis  history: 

"i^io^^''^"'  '^^'^^  of  Egypt  luive  1  called  my  Son.'"^  And  this  other  correlate 
idea,  of  Israel  as  '  the  Servant  of  the  Lord, '  is  also  fully  concen- 
trated in  the  Messiah  as  the  Representative  Israelite,  so  that  tlie 
JJook  of  Isaiah,  as  the  series  of  predictions  in  which  His  picture  is 
most  fully  outlined,  might  be  sununarised  as  that  concerning  'the 
Servant  of  Jehovah.'  Moreover,  the  Messiah,  as  Rei)resentativc 
Israelite,  combined  in  Himself  as  ^the  Servant  of  the  Lord'  the  three- 
fold office  of  Prophet,  Priest,  and  King,  and  joined  together  the  two 

'•pitii.  u.  ideas  of 'Son 'and  'Servant.'''  And  the  final  combination  and  full 
exhibition  of  these  two  ideas  was  the  fullillment  of  the  typical  mission 
of  Israel,  and  the  establishment  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  among  men. 

c  &en.  iii.ir,  Thus,  in  its  final,  as  in  its  initial,"  stage  it  was  the  establishment 
of  the  Kingdom  of  (}od  upon  earth — brought  about  by  the  'Servant' 
of  the  Lord, Who  was  to  stricken  humanity  the  God-sent  'Anointed 
Comforter'  (Mnslnach  lia-Menachem):  in  this  twofold  sense  of 'Com- 
forter'  of  individuals  ('the  friend  of  sinners '),  and  '  Comforter  '  of 
Israel  and  of  the  world,  reconciling  the  two,  and  bringing  to  both 
eternal  salvation.  And  here  the  mission  of  Israel  ended.  It  had 
passed  through  three  stages.  The  first,  or  historicaI,vras  the  prepara- 
tion of  the  Kingdom  of  God;  the  second,  or  ritual,  the  typical  pre- 
sentation of  that  Kingdom;  while  the  tliird,  or  pj'ojjhetic,  brought 
that  Kingdom  into  actual  contact  with  the  kingdoms  of  the  world. 
Accordingly,  it  is  during  the  latter  that  the  designation  'Son  of 
David '  (tyjHcal  Israel)  enlarged  in  the  visions  of  Daniel  into  that  of 
'  Son  of  Man  '  (the  Head  of  redeemed  humanity).  It  were  a  onesided 
view  to  regard  the  Babylonish  exile  as  only  a  punishment  for  Israel's 
sin.  There  is,  in  truth,  nothing  in  all  God's  dealings  in  history 
exclusively  punitive.  That  were  a  merely  negative  element.  But 
there  is  always  a  positive  element  also  of  actual  progress;  a  step 
forward,  even  though  in  the  taking  of  it  something  should  have  to 
be  crushed.  And  this  step  forward  was  the  development  of  the  idea  of 
.  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  its  relation  to  the  world. 

2.  This  organic  unity  of  Israel  and  the  Messiah  explains  how 
events,  institutions,  and  predictions,  which  initially  were  ])ur('ly 
Israelitish,  could  with  truth  lie  regarded  as  finding  their  full  accom- 
plishment in  tlie  Messiah.  From  this  point  of  view  the  whole  Old 
Testament  becomes  the  perspective  in  which  the  figure  of  the  Messiah 
stands  out.      And   ])('rha])s    the  most    valu;il)l('  clement  in   Rabbinic 


OLD   TESTAMENT   PREDICTION'S   Ql'OTED    DY   THE    UADBIS.  1(53 

coiniHcutatiou  on  Mcssiniiic  times  is  tliat  in  wliicli,  tis  so  ti'C({uently,      ciiAl'. 
it  is  explained,  that  all  the  miracles  and  deliverances  of  Isi-acl's  past  V 

would  be  re-enacted,  only  in  a  much  "wider  manner,  in  the  days  of  "— ^.' — -^ 
the  Messiah.  Tlius  tlu'  whole  past  was  symbolic,  and  typical  of  the 
future — the  Old  Testament  the  ^'lass,  thi-ou,nh  which  tlie  universal 
.lilessino:,s  of  the  latter  days  were  seen.  It  is  in  this  sense  that  we 
Avould  understand  the  two  sayinji's  of  the  Talmud:  .-All  the  pi-ophets 
prophesied  only  of  the  days  of  the  Messiah,'"  and  'The  world  was  "Sanh.  99»i 
created  only  for  the  Messiah.'"'  isanii.  98  b 

In  accordance  with  all  this,  the  ancient  Synagogue  found  re- 
ferences to  the  Messiah  in  nuiny  more  passages  of  the  Old  Testament 
than  those  verbal  predictions,  to  which  we  generally  appeal;  and  the 
latter  formed  (as  in  the  New  Testament)  a  proportionately  snuill,  and 
secondary,  element  in  the  concei)tion  of  the  Messianic  era.  This 
is  fully  borne  out  by  a  detailed  analysis  of  those  ])assages  in  the 
Old  Testament  to  which  the  ancient  Synagogue  referred  as  Messianic.^ 
Their  number  amounts  to  upwards  of  4.56  (75  from  the  Pentateuch, 
243  from  tlie  rr(j})liets,  aiul  138  from  the  Hagiographa),  and  their 
Messianic  application  is  sii])ported  by  more  than  558  references  to 
the  most  ancient  Rabbinic  writings.-  But  comparatively  few  of  these 
are  what  would  be  termed  verl)al  i)redictions.  Rather  would  it  seem  as 
if  every  event  were  regarded  as  prophetic,  and  every  prophecy,  whether 
by  fact,  or  by  word  (prediction),  as  a  light  to  cast  its  sheen  on  the 
future,  until  the  picture  of  the  Messianic  age  in  the  far  back-ground 
stood  out  in  the  hundredfold  variegated  brightness  of  prophetic  events, 
and  i)roi)hetic  utterances;  or,  as  regarded  the  then  state  of  Israel, 
till  the  darkness  of  their  present  night  was  lit  up  by  a  hundred  con- 
stellations kindling  in  the  sky  overhead,  and  its  lonely  silence  broken 
by  echoes  of  heavenly  voices,  and  strains  of  prophetic  hymns  borne  on 
the  breeze. 

Of  course, there  was  the  danger  that,  amidst  these  dazzling  lights. 
or  in  the  crowd  of  tigures,  each  so  attractive,  or  else  in  the  absorbing 
interest  of  the  general  })icture,  the  grand  central  Personality  should 
not  engage  the  attention  it  claimed,  and  so  the  meaning  of  the  whole 

^  See  Appendix  IX.,  wliere  a  detailed  iii.i;'  the  Midrasli  on  Levitiout^,  no   fewer 

list  is   given   of  all   the  Old  Testament  than  twenty-tive  close  witli  an  outlook  on 

passaj^es  which  the  ancient  Syna,2;ogue  Messianic  times.     The  same  may  lie  said 

applied  Messianically,  together  with  the  of  the  dose  of  many  of  the  Parashahs  in 

references  to  the  Rabbinic  works  where  the   Midrashim    known    as    Pesi((ta   and 

they  are  quoted.  Tanchuma  (Zioiz.  u.  s.  pp.  ISl.  2S4).    Be- 

''■  Large  as  this  number  is,  I   do   not  sides,  the  oldest  portions  of  the  Jewish 

present  the  list  as  complete.  Thus,  out  liturgy  are  full  of  Messianic  asi>irations. 
of  the  thirtv-seven   Parashahs  constitut- 


iy4  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK  l)e  lost  in  the  contemplation  of  its  details.  This  danger  was  the 
n  greater  from  the  absence  of  any  deeper  spiritual  elements.  All  that 
^■^-^r — ^  Israel  needed:  'study  of  the  Law  and  good  works/ lay  within  the 
reach  of  every  one;  and  all  that  Israel  hoped  for,  was  national  restora- 
tion and  glory.  Everything  else  was  but  means  to  these  ends;  the 
Messiah  Himself  only  the  grand  instrument  in  attaining  them.  Thus 
vie\v('(l,  tlie  pictuj'e  presented  would  be  of  Israel's  exaltation,  rather 
than  of  the  salvation  of  the  world.  To  this,  and  to  the  idea  of  Israel's 
exclusive  spiritual  position  in  the  world,  must  be  traced  much,  that 
otherwise  would  seem  utterly  irrational  in  the  Rabbinic  pictures  of  the 
latter  days.  But  in  such  a  picture  there  would  be  neither  room  nor 
occasion  for  a  Messiah-Saviour,  in  the  only  sense  in  which  such  a 
heavenly  mission  could  be  rational,  or  the  heart  of  humanity  respond 
to  it.  The  Ral^binic  ideal  of  the  Messiah  was  not  that  of  '  a  light  to 
lighten  the  Gentiles,  and  the  glory  of  His  people  Israel  '■ — the  satisfac- 
tion of  the  wants  of  humanity,  and  the  completion  of  Israel's  mission 
— but  quite  different,  even  to  contrariety.  Accordingly,  there  was  a 
fundamental  antagonism  l)etween  the  Rabbis  and  Christ,  quite  irre- 
spective of  the  manner  in  which  He  carried  out  His  Messianic  work. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  is  equally  noteworthy,  that  the  purely  national 
elements,  which  well  nigh  formed  the  sum  total  of  Rabbinic  expecta- 
tion, scarcely  entered  into  the  teaching  of  Jesus  about  the  Kingdom 
of  God.  And  the  more  we  realise,  that  Jesus  so  fundamentally 
separated  Himself  from  all  the  ideas  of  His  time,  the  more  evidential 
is  it  of  the  fact,  that  He  was  not  the  Messiah  of  Jewish  conception, 
but  derived  His  mission  from  a  source  unknown  to,  or  at  least  ignored 
by,  the  leaders  of  His  people. 

3.  But  still,  as  the  Rabbinic  ideas  were  at  least  based  on  the  Old 
Testament,  we  need  not  wonder  that  they  also  embodied  the  chief 
features  of  the  Messianic  history.  Accordingly,  a  careful  perusal  of 
their  Scripture  quotations  *  shows,  that  the  main  postulates  of  the 
Kew  Testament  concerning  the  Messiah  are  fully  supported  by 
Rabl)inic  statements.  Thus,  such  doctrines  as  the  pre-mundane  eoc- 
istence  of  the  Messiah;  His  elevation  above  Moses, and  even  above  the 
Angels;  His  representative  character:  His  cruel  sufferings  and 
derision]  His  violent  death,  and  that /or  His  people:  His  loork  on 
behalf  of  the  living  and  of  the  dead;  His  redemption,  and  restora- 
■  tion  of  Israel;  the  oppo.s7Y/o)M)f  the  Gentiles;  their  partial  j^^rZgrjwenf 
and  conversion;  the  prevalence  of  His  Laiv\  the  universal  blessings  of 
the  latter  days;  and  His  Kiiigdoni — can  1)0  clearly  deduced  from  un- 

'  For  Ihcsc.  see  Appendix  IX. 


RABlJIXiC    DKXIAL   OF    ORIGINAL    .SIN. 


1G5 


qiK'slioued  passages  iii  aiick'nt  I{al)l)iiiic  writings.  Only,  as  we  niiglit 
expect,  all  is  there  indistinct,  incoherent,  unexi)laine(l.  and  from  a 
much  lower  standpoint.  At  best,  it  is  the  lower  stage  of  yet  unful- 
tilled  prophecy — the  haze  when  the  sun  is  about  to  rise,  not  the  blaze 
when  it  has  risen.  Most  painfully  is  this  felt  in  connection  with  the 
one  element  on  which  the  New  Testament  most  insists.  There  is, 
indeed,  in  Rabbinic  writings  frequent  reference  to  the  sufferings,  and 
even  the  death  of  the  Messiah,  and  these  are  brought  into  connection 
with  our  sins — as  how  could  it  be  otherwise  in  view  of  Isaiah  liii.  and 
other  passages — and  in  one  most  remarkable  comment*  the  Messiah 
is  represented  as  willingly  taking  upon  Himself  all  these  sufierings, 
on  condition  that  all  Israel — the  living,  the  dead,  and  those  yet  un- 
l)oi'n — should  be  saved,  and  that,  in  consequence  of  His  work,  God 
and  Israel  should  be  reconciled,  and  Satan  cast  into  hell.  But  there 
is  only  the  most  indistinct  reference  to  the  removal-  of  sin  -by  the 
Messiah,  in  the  sense  of  vicarious  sufferings. 

In  connection  with  what  has  been  stated,  one  most  important 
point  must  be  kept  in  view.  So  far  as  their  opinions  can  ])e  gathered 
from  their  writings,  the  great  doctrines  of  Original  Sin,  and  of  the  sin- 
fulness of  our  whole  nature,  were  not  held  by  the  ancient  Rabbis.^  Of 
course,  it  is  not  meant  that  they  denied  the  consequences  of  sin,  either 
as  concerned  Adam  himself,  or  his  descendants;  but  the  final  result 
is  far  from  that  seriousness  which  attaches  to  the  Fall  in  the  New  Testa- 
ment, where  it  is  presented  as  the  basis  of  the  need  of  a  Redeemer, 
Who,  as  the  Second  Adam,  restored  what  the  first  had  lost.  The  dif- 
ference is  so  fundamental  as  to  render  further  explanation  necessary.'^ 

The  fall  of  Adam  is  ascribed  to  the  envy  of  the  Angels-^ — not  the 
fallen  ones,  for  none  were  fallen,  till  God  cast  them  down  in  conse- 
quence of  their  seduction  of  man.  The  Angels,  having  in  vain  tried 
to  prevent  the  creation  of  man,  at  last  conspired  to  lead  him  into  sin 
as  the  only  means  of  his  ruin — the  task  being  undertaken  by  Sammael 
(and  his  Angels),  who  in  many  respects  was  superior  to  the  other 
Angelic  princes.''  The  instrument  employed  was  the  serpent,  of 
Avhosc  original  condition  the  strangest  legends  are  told,  prol)ably  to 
make  the  Biblical  narrative  appear  more  rational."  The  details  of  the 
story  of  the  Fall,  as  told  by  the  Rabbis,  need  not  be  here  repeated, 
save  to  indicate  its  consequences.     The  first  of  these  was  the  with- 


CHAP 
V 


'  This  is  tlie  view  expressed  l)y  all 
Jewisli  flo,i>matic  \Yriters.  See  also 
M^eher,  Altsyna,<i\  Tlieol.  p.  217. 

-  Coinp.  oil  tlie  su])ieot.  Ber.  R.  12-1  (>. 

'■'■  In  Ber.  B.,  liowever.   it  lias  seemed 


to  me,  as  if  sometimes  a  mystical  and 
symliolical  view  of  tlie  iiistory  of  the 
Fall  were  insinuated— evil  concuiiisceuce 
beina,'  the  occasion  of  it. 


■1  Yalkut  on 
Is.  ix.  1 


''  Pirq:'  de 
K.  EI.  c.  13: 
Yalkut  i. 
p.  S  c 

"  Comp. 
Pirqe  de  R. 
El.  and 
Yalkut, 
U.S. :  also 
Ber.  R.  li> 


166 


FROM-  liETlILKHKM    TO    JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


"  Ber.  R.  19, 
ed.War- 
«liau,  ij.37rt 

>>  Beniidb. 
R.  l:i 


'■  Vayylkra 
R.  27 

■'  Ber.  R.  16 
21,  and 
often 

f  Ber.  R.  5, 
12,  10; 
comp.  also 
llidr.  on 
Eccl.vli.13; 
and  viil.  1, 
and  Baba 
B.  17  a 

f  Ber.  R.  9 


s  Bemldb. 
R.  19 


h.\ccordlng 
to  Deut. 
xxxUi.  2; 
Hab.  lii.  3 

'<  \h.  Zar. 

2b 

t  Ab.  Z.  -y  a 


drawal  of  tlic  Shckliiiiiili  Iroin  cai'tli  to  the  tir.<t  lieaven,  while  i^ub- 
se([ueiit  sins  suecossively  led  to  its  further  removal  to  the  seventh 
heaven.  This,  however,  can  scarcely  be  considered  a  permanent 
sequel  of  sin,  since  the  good  deeds  of  seven  righteous  men,  beginning 
with  Abraham,  lirought  it  again,  in  the  time  of  Moses,  to  earth."- 
Six  things  Adam  is  said  to  have  lost  by  his  sin;  but  even  these  are 
to  be  restored  to  man  by  the  Messiah.'''  That  tire  i)hysical  death  of 
Adam  was  the  consequence  of  his  sin,  is  certainly  taught.  Other- 
wise he  would  have  lived  forever,  like  Enoch  and  Elijah.''  But 
although  the  fate  which  overtook  Adam  was  to  rest  on  all  the  world,'' 
nnd  death  came  not  only  on  our  first  father  but  on  his  descendants, 
and  all  creation  lost  its  ]X'rfectness,''yet  even  these  temporal  sequences 
are  not  universally  admitted.  It  rather  seems  taught,  that  death  was 
intended  to  be  the  fate  of  all,  or  sent  to  show  the  folh'  of  men  claiming 
Divine' worship,  or  to  test  Avhether  piety  was  real,^  the  more  so  that 
with  death  the  weary  struggle  with  our  evil  inclination  ceased. 
It  was  needful  to  die  when  our  work  was  done,  that  others  might 
enter  upon  it.  In  each  case  death  was  the  consequence  of  our  own, 
not  of  Adam's  sin.^  In  fact,  over  these  six — Abraham,  Isaac,  Jacol), 
Moses,  Aaron,  and  Miriam — the  Angel  of  Death  had  had  no  absolute 
power.  Xay,  there  was  a  time  Avhen  all  Israel  were  not  only  free 
from  death,  but  like  the  Angels,  and  even  higher  than  they.  For, 
originall}^  God  had  offered  the  Law  to  all  Gentile  nations,"  but  the}' 
had  refused  to  sulnnit  to  it.'  But  when  Israel  took  on  themselves 
the  Law  at  Mount  Sinai,  the  description  in  Psalm  Ixxxii.  <5  applied 
literally  to  them.  They  would  not  have  died,  and  Avere  'the  sons  of 
God." "  But  all  this  was  lost  by  the  sin  of  making  the  golden  calf — 
altliough  the  Talmud  marks  that,  if  Israel  had  continued  in  that 
Angelic  state,  the  nation  would  have  ceased  with  that  generation. - 
Thus  there  were  two  divergent  opinions— the  one  ascribing  death  to 
personal,  the  other  tracing  it  to  Adam's  guilt.' 


^  They  are:  the  shininof  splendour  of 
his  person,  even  his  heels  bein^  like  suns ; 
his  ^iffantic  size,  from  east  to  west,  from 
earth  to  heaven :  the  spontaneous  splen- 
did products  of  the  ground,  and  of  all 
fruit-trees;  an  infinitely  "greater  measure 
of  lisrht  on  the  part  of  the  lieavenly  bod- 
ies: and.  finally,  endless  duration  of  life 
(Ber.  R.  12.  ed.  Warsh.  ]).  24  h;  Ber.  Jl. 
21;  Sanh.  .'JS  b;  Chas;.  12  a;  and  for  flieir 
restoration  by  the  Messiah.  Bcni.  Ii.  I?,). 

'^  Byamo.st  inj^enious  theoh)i!:ifal  arti- 
fice the  sin  of  the  ijolden  calf,  and  that  of 
David  are  made  matter  for  tlniid<sij:ivin^; 


the  one  as  showing  that,  even  if  the  whole 
people  sinned.  God  was  willinir  to  for- 
give: the  other  as  proving,  tluit  God  gra- 
ciously condescended  to  each  individual 
sinner,  and  that  to  each  the  iloDr  nf 
repentance  was  oj^en. 

■'  In  the  Talmud  (Shabb.  on  a  and  //) 
each  view  is  supported  in  discussion,  tlie 
one  by  a  reference  to  Ezek.  xviii.  20.  tlie 
otlier  to 'Eccles.  i.\.  2  (com]),  also  Sii>hr('" 
on  Deut.  .xxxii.  49).  The  final  conclu- 
sion, however,  greatly-  inclines  towards 
the  connection  between  death  and  the 
fall  (see  especially  the  clear  statement  in 


WHENCE  THE  srFFEi;iX(;s  OF  isi;aee?  1(j7 

When,  however,  we  pass  t'roiu  tlic  i»liysi('al  to  tlic  moral  sequences      CHAP, 
of  the  fall,  our  Jewish  authorities  wholly  fail  us.     They  teach,  that         ^ 
man  is  created  with  two  inclinations — that  to  c\il  (tlie  yetser  Jia-ra),   ' — ~~' — 
and  that  to  good;-''  the  first  working  in  him  IVom  the  beginning,  the  Targum 
latter  coming  gradually  in  the  course  of  time.''   \'ct,  so  far  from  guilt  Gi-n.  u.'- 
attaching  to  the  Yetser  hd-ni,  its  existence  is  absolutely  necessary,  if  !,.?i''''-f/-, 
the  world  is  to  continue."    In  fact,  as  the  Talmud  expressly  teaches,*  I'^ueaw' 
the  evil  desire  or  impulse  was  created  by  God  Himself;  while  it  is  55"',77i/'''' 
also  asserted'  that,  on  seeing  the  consequences,  God  actually  repented  ^"^ " 
having  done  so.     This  gives  quite  another  character  to  sin,  as  due  to  ,,  ^^j,.'  Jj^, 
causes  for  which  no  blame  attaches  to  man.'     On  the  other  hand,  as   'Sukk.52a, 

....,,  ,.  1         1      11       J  •  1  .       ,.  ,     ,         and  Yalkut 

it  IS  m  the  power  ol  each  wholly  to  overcome  sm,  and  to  gam  hie  l)y  n.  p.  u\u, 

study  and  works;*'  as  Israel  at  Mount  Sinai  had  actually  got  rid  of  aJ;""j'pi. 

the  Yetser  ha-ra:  and  as  there  had  been  those,  who  Avere  entirely  ?^*'i"i"\r° 

righteous," — there  scarcely  remains  any  moral  seciuence  of  Adam's  fall  -^ 

to  be  considered.     iSimilarly,  the  Apocrypha  are  silent  on  the  subject,  Kidd.  '.'mi,  ' 

the  only  exception  being  the  very  strong  language  used  in  II.  Esdras,  amp'^ie!^ 

which  dates  after  the  Christian  era.' '  cSH'" 

4.  In  the  absence  of  felt  need  of  deliverance  from  sin,  avc  can  icomp.  iv. 

understand,  how  Rabbinic  tradition  found  no  jdace  for  the  Priestly  ji,k^W.' 

office  of  the  Messiah,  and  how  even  His  claims  to  be  the  Prophet  of  e.sJKviaUy 
His  people  are  almost  entirely  overshadowed  by  His  apj^earance  as 
their  King  and  Deliverer.     This,  indeed,  was  the  ever-present  want, 
pressing  the  more  heavily  as  Israel's  national  sufferings  seemed  almost 
inexi)licable,  while  they  contrasted  so  sharply  with  the  glory  expected 

by  the  Rabbis.      Whence  fl/e.sc  sufferings /'  From  sin" — national  sin:  ^Men.n.n, 

the  idolatry  of  former  times; '  the  prevalence  of  crimes  and  vices;  the  uiitt.  i  a 

dereliction  of  God's  ordinances;  "  the  neglect  of  instruction,  of  study,  ■«  om.  88 « 
and  of  ppoper  practice  of  His  Law;  and,  in  later  days,  the  love  of 

money  and  party  strife."   But  the  seventy  years'  captivitii  had  ceased,  "Jer. 

ivhii  not  the  iiresent  dispersion?  Because  hvpocris}^  had  been  added  Yuma !)'«,' 

tiiKl  many 

to  all  other  Sins; "  because  there  iiad  not  been  proper  repentance; ''  ouipi- pas- 
sages 

•  Yiima  9  l> 

Debar.  R.  9,  ed.    Warsh.,  p.  20  «).    Tliis  Of  course,  the  tirst  two  and  tlio  hu>t  two    ,,jp,. 

view  is  also  supported  by  such  passaijes  chapters  in  our  A])ocryplial   H.   F.sih'ns    Y,,!uai.i 

in  the  Ai)0cryi)ha  as  Wisdom  ii.  '2o,  24;  are  later  spurious  a<ldltioiis  of  Clii-istiau 

iii.  1,  &c. ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  p]c-  authorsliip.    But  in  proof  of  the  iiiHuencf 

clus.  XV.  1 1-17  seems  rather  to  point  in  a  of  the  Christian  teachiii,y  on  the  writer  of 

different  direction.  the  Fourth  Book  of  Esdras  we  may  call 

1  There  can  be  no  question  that,  des-  attention,   besides   the  adoption   of  the 

pile  its  strong  polemical  tendency  against  doctrine  of  original  sin,  to  the  remarkable 

Christianity,  the  Fourtli  Book  of  Esdras  application  to  Israel  of  such  N.T.  exprcs- 

(II.  Esdras  in  our  Apocrypha),  written  at  sions  as  the  'firstborn,'  the  'only-begot- 

the  close  of  the  first  century  of  our  era,  ten.'  and  the  'Well-beloved  '  (IV.  Esdras 

is  deeply  tinged  with  Christian  doctrine.  vi.  .")S — in  our  Apocr.  II.  Esdras  iv.  5S). 


168 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 

Nidd.  l;i  h 
Yonia  I'J  l> 


>•■  For  all 
these 
poluts 
comi).  Ber. 
.".8  /; :  59  (I ; 
Sot.  48  a ; 
Shabb. 
138  b :  Baba 
B.  12  a,  b 

''  Vayyikra 
E.  19 


fPe.siqta, ' 
ed.  Buber, 
l>.  145  a, 
last  lines 

p  Mldr,  on 
Ps.cxxxvli. 


•>  Peslqta 
148  (. 


'  Chag.  13  b 


■t  Shemoth 
E.  2.  ed, 
■Warsli.  p. 
7  li,  lines  12 
&c. 


™  Ber.  3  a : 
59  rt 

"  Pesiqta 
119  6;  120  a 


liccaiuse  of  tlie  liiiir-hoaitedncs.s  of  tlie  Jewish  proselytes;  because  of 
iiupropor  inarriages,  and  other  evil  eustomsr'  and  becauf^c  of  the  gro:<s 
dissoluteness  of  certain  cities.''  The  consequences  appeared  not  onh' 
ill  the  i)olitical  condition  of  Israel,  ))ut  in  the  land  itself,  in  the 
absence  of  rain  and  dew,  of  fruitfulness  and  of  ]^lenty;  in  the  general 
disorder  of  society;  the  cessation  of  piety  and  of  religious  study;  and 
the  silence  of  prophecy.''  As  significantly  summed  up,  Israel  ^vas 
without  Priesthood,  witliout  law,  without  God."  Xay,  the  Avorld  it- 
self suflered  in  consequence  of  the  destruction  of  the  Temple.  In  a 
very  remarkalile  passage,''  where  it  is  ex])laincd,  that  the  seventy 
l)ullocks  oflcred  during  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles  were  for  the  nations 
of  the  Avorld.  1\.  Jochanan  deplores  their  fate,  since  while  the  Temple 
had  stood  the  altar  had  atoned  t\)v  the  Gentiles,  but  who  was  now  to 
do  so?  The  light,  Avhich  had  shone  from  out  the  Temple  windows 
into  the  world,  had  been  extinguished.''  Indeed,  but  for  the  inter- 
cession of  the  Angels  the  world  would  now  be  destroyed.^  In  the 
poetic  language  of  the  time,  the  heavens,  sun,  moon  and  stars,  trees 
and  mountains,  even  the  Angels,  mourned  over  the  desolation  of  the 
Temple,''  and  the  very  Angelic  hosts  had  since  been  diminished.' 
But,  though  the  Divine  Presence  had  l)een  withdrawn,  it  still 
lingered  near  His  own:  it  had  followed  them  in  all  their  banish- 
ments; it  had  sutiered  with  them  in  all  their  sorrows.'-  It  is  a  toucliing 
legend,  which  represents  the  Shekhinah  as  still  lingering  over  the 
western  wall  of  the  Temple" — the  only  one  supposed  to  l)e  still  stand- 
ing.^ ^ay.  in  language  still  bolder,  and  wliicli  cannot  lie  fully  repro- 
duced, God  Himself  is  represented  as  mourning  o-ver  Jerusalem  and 
the  Teiuple.  He  has  not  entered  His  Palace  since  then,  and  His  hair 
is  wet  with  the  dew.*  He  weeps  over  His  children  and  their  desolate- 
ness,™  and  displays  in  the  heavens  tokens  of  mourning,  corresjionding 
to  those  which  an  earthly  monarch  would  show." 

All  this  is  to  be  gloriously  set  right.  Avhen  the  Lord  turneth  tlie 
captivity  of  Zion,  and  the  Messiah  cometh.  But  luhen  may  He  be 
expected,  and  what  are  the  signs  of  His  coming?  Or  perhaps  the 
qnestiiui  sliould  thus  be  put:  Why  are  the  redemption  of  Israel 
and  tlie  coining  of  the  Messiah  so  unaccountably  delayed?  It  is  here 


^  This  is  the  Pesiqta.  not  that  which  is 
generally  quoted  either  as  Rahbathi  or 
Sutfirfd. 

^  This  iu  very  many  Rabbinical  pas- 
sages. Comp.  Cas1elli',l\  Messia,  \^.  17(!. 
note  4. 

2  In  proof  tliey  appeal  to  such  passages 


as  2  Chr.  vii.  Ifi:  Ps.  iii.  -4;  Cant.  ii.  9, 
proving  it  even  from  the  decree  of  Cyrus 
(Ezra  i.  :^.»4),  in  which  (iod  is  spoken  of 
as  still  ii!  desolate  Jerusalem. 

'  The  i)assage  from  Yalkut  on  Is.  Ix.  1 
is  (pioted  in  full  in  Ai)pendix  IX. 


WHY    DKLAVKTH    THE    MKSSIAII    HIS    ('()MIN(;?  jgc^ 

thai  tlic  Synagogue  finds  itself  in  presence  of  an  insoinhlc  mystery,      chap. 
The  explanations  attenii)te(l  are,  confessedly,  guesses,  or  rather  at-  v 

tempts  to  evade  the  issue.  The  only  course  left  is,  authoritatively  ^— ^r^— ' 
to  impose  silence  on  all  such  inquiries — the  silence,  as  they  would  put 
it,  of  implicit,  moui-nful  submission  to  the  inexplicable,  in  faith  that 
somehow,  when  least  expected,  deliverance  would  come;  or,  as  we 
would  put  it,  the  silence  of  ever-recurring  (lisappointmcnt  and  despair. 
Thus  the  grand  hope  of  the  Synagogue  is,  as  it  were,  written  in  an 
epitai)h  on  a  broken  tombstone,  to  be  repeated  l)y  the  thousands  who, 
for  these  long  centuries,  have  washed  the  ruins  of  the  Sanetuaiw  with 
unavailing  tears. 

6.    117/;/   delaiietJi  the  Jle.ssiah  His  votii'Difj?     Since  the   l)riefand 
broken  sunshine  of  the  days  of  Ezra  and  Xehemiah,  the  sky  over- 
head has  ever  grown  darker,  nor  have  even  the  terrible  storms,  which 
have  burst  over  Israel,  reft  the  canopy  of  cloud.     The  first  captivity 
passed,  why  not  the  second?     This  is  the  painful  question  ever  and 
again  discussed  by  the  Rabbis."     Can  they  mean  it  seriously,  that  the  » Jer. 
sins  of  the  second,  are  more  grievous  than  those  which  caused  the  ed.  Kro't.  p. 
first  dispersion;  or  that  they  of  the  first  captivity  repented,  but  not  parVsanh. 
they  of  the  second?     What  constitutes  this  repentance   which    yet 
remains  to  be  made?     But  the  reasoning  liecomes  aljsolutely  self-con- 
tradictory when,  together  with  the  assertion  that,  if  Israel  repented 
but  one  (lav,  the  Messiah  would  come,"  we  are  told,  that  Israel  will  •'Micir.  ou 

•    .  .  .  Cant.  V.  •>, 

not  repent  till  Elijah  comes.'-'     Besides,  bold  as  the  languau'e  is,  there  eci.  warsh. 

.  .  .  .  o        .  p.  25  a; 

IS  truth  in  the  expostulation,  which  the  ]Midrash''  puts  into  the  mouth  sanh.  98  a 
of  the  congregation  of  Israel:   '■  Lord  of  the  world,  itde])ends  on  Thee  K^Enez^ls, 
that  we  repent.'     Such  truth,  that,  althoua'h  at  first  the  Divine  replv  '''"' 

\  .'  '  '  .  '    "      '1  On  Lam. 

IS  a  repetition  of  Zechar,  i.  3,  vet,  when  Israel  reiterates  the  words,   t.  -n.  ea. 

^        ■  T   .        '  J     Warsh.  vol. 

'Turn  Thou  us  unto  Thee,  O  Lord,  and  we  shall  be  turned,'  support-  in.  p.  77a 
ing  them  by  Ps.  Ixxxv.  4,  the  argument  proves  unaiisweral)le. 

Other  conditions  of  Israel's  deliverance  are,  indeed,  mentioned. 
But  we  can  scarcely  regard  the  Synagogue  as  seriously  making  the 
coming  of  Messiah  dependent  on  their  realisation.  Among  the  most 
touching  of  these  is  a  l)eautiful  ])assage  (almost  reminding  us  of  Heb. 
xi.j,  in  which  Israel's  future  deliverance  is  described  as  the  reward  of  "-Tanch.  on 

^'  E.\.  XV.  1, 

faith.''     Similarlv  beautiful  is  the  thouuiit,*^  that,  when  (lod   redeems   eii.  war.sh. 

.p.  1-6  '' 

Israel,  it  will  lie  amidst   their  weeping.-'     r)Ut   neitlier  can  this  be   fon.jor. 
regarded  as  the  condition  of  Messiah's  comiuii":  nor  vet  such  iicneral- 

'^  '  .     '  -•  Tanch.  on 

ities  as  the  observance  of  the  Law,  or  of  some  siiecial  commandments.    f'"i-  ^i^-  -• 

'  ed.  Warsh. 

The  very  variety  of  suggestions '' ^  shows,    how  utterly  unal)le  the  i,  sann.  97  6 
1  The  reader  will  tiiid  tliese  discusr^ioiis  .suimiiarii^ed  at  tin*  clo^e  of  Appendl.x  IX. 


170  FROM   BETIILEIIKM   TO   .lOIiDAX. 

i;()()K      Syiia<:i'()<i'U('    lelt    to  iiKiicatc  any   condition  to  Ijo  fultiUed  l)y  Israel. 
11  8iicli  va^u'ue  statements,  as  that  the  salvation  of  Israel  depended  on 

^-— ^. ^ —  tlie  merits  ol"  the  patriarchs,  or  on  that  of  one  of  them,  cannot  hell) 
"  sanh. '.18  rt  us  to  a  solution;  and  the  long  discussion  in  the  Talnnur' leaves  no 
doul)t,  that  the  final  and  most  sober  opinion  was,  that  the  time  of 
Messiah's  coming  depended  not  on  repentance,  nor  any  other  con- 
dition, 1)ut  on  the  mercy  of  (Jod,  when  the  time  fixed  had  arrived. 
But  even  so,  we  arc  again  thrown  into  doubt  l)y  the  statement,  that 
it  might  be  cither  hastened  or  retarded  by  Israel's  bearing!^ 

In  these  circumstances,  any  attempt  at  determining  tlie  date  of 
Messiah's  coming  would  be  even  more  liyi)othetical  than  such  calcula- 
tions generally  are.^  Uuesses  on  the  subject  could  only  be  grounded 
on  imaginary  symbolisms.  Of  such  we  have  exami)les  in  the  Talmud.^ 
Thus,  some  fixed  the  date  at  4000  years  after  the  Creation — curiously 
enough,  about  the  era  of  Christ — though  Israel's  sin  had  blotted  out 
='  sanh.  97  b  tiic  wliolc  past  from  the  reckoning;  others  at  4201  from  the  Creation; '' 
others  again  expected  it  at  the  beginning,  or  end,  of  the  eighty-fitth 
Jul)ilee — with  this  proviso,  that  it  it  would  not  take  place  cai'lier; 
and  soon,  through  equally  groundless  conjectures,  A  comparatively 
late  work  si)eaks  of  five  monarchies — Babylon,  Medo-Persia,  Greece, 
Rome  and  Ishmael.  During  the  last  of  these  God  would  hear  the 
pirq.Tie     cry  of  Isracl,"  and  the  Messiah  come,  after  a  terril)le  war  between 

K.  KU6S.  y*2  * 

•111  s  30  "  Borne  and  Ishmael  (the  West  and  the  Plast).''  But  as  the  rule  of  these 
monarchies  was  to  last  altogether  one  day  (=1000  years),  less 
-comp.  two-thirdsof  an  hour  (1  hour:^83|  years),"  it  would  follow,  that  their 
EL  48  "  ■  domination  would  last  944*  years.*  Again,  according  to  Jewish 
tradition,  the  rule  of  Babylon  had  lasted  TO,  that  of  Medo-Persia  .34, 
and  that  of  Greece  180  years,  leaving  660f  years  for  Bonie  and  Ish- 
mael. Thus  the  date  for  the  expected  Advent  of  the  Messiah  would 
have  been  about  661  after  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  or  al)out  the 
year  729  of  the  Christian  era.* 

In  the  category  of  guesses  we  must  also  place  such  vague  state- 
ments, as  that  the  Messiah  would  come,  when  all  were  righteous,  or 
all  wicked  ;  or  else  nine  months  after  the  emi)ii-e  of  Rome    had  ex- 


1  See,  on   tlie  whole  subject,  also  De-  from  Saiili. 
bar.  R.  2.  *  rinie  de   R.  El.  2S.     The  reasoninnc 

-  We  iMit   asi(l(>,    as  universally  repu-  by  wliicli  this  dm-ation  of  the  monarchies 

(bated,   the   opinion   e.\i)ressed    by   one  is  derived  from  Ijament.  i.  115  and  Zech. 

Rabbi,   that  Israel's   Messianic  era  was  xiv.  7.    is   a    very   curious  specimen    of 

l)ast.  the  promises  havini;;  been  fulfilled  Rabbinic  ary-umentation. 
in  Kiuir  Hezekiah  (Sanh.  OS  h;  !)!»  n).  •>  Conii).  Zunz,  Gottesd.  Vortr.  p.  277. 

•"  See.   in   Apjiendix   IX.  the   extracts 


NATCIM:,    rEKSOX,    and    QIALIFICATIOX.S    of    MESSIAH.  ]71 

tt'iidi'd  over  the  whole  world;''  or  when  all  the  souls,  predestined  to      ciiaI'. 
inhabit  bodies,  had  been  oneartli. ''     But  as,  after  years  of  uni-elieved  v 

sutferiuii's,  the  Synaii-oii-uo  had  to  acknowledge  that,  one  by  one,  all   "- — ". — 
the  terms  liad  passed,  and  as  desi)air  settled  on  the  heart  of  Israel,  it   '■sanh.98(-' 
eanie  to  be  generally  thought,    that  the  time  of  Messiah's  Advent  Ber.'K.'s^' 
eould  not  be  known  l)eforehand, ''  and  that  speenlation  on  the  subject   >TarKuni 
was  tlangerous,   sinful,   even  damnable.     The  time  of  the  end  had.    ,jon.  on 
indeed,  been  revealed  to  two  sons  of  Adam,  Jacob  and  David;  ])nt 
neither  of  them  had  been  allowed  to  make  it  known.  ■*     In  view  of  "Midrash 

(inP.s.  XXXI. 

this,  it  can  scarcelv  be  rcii'arded  as  more  than  a  svmbolical,  thouii'h   eii.  warsii. 
siii-niticant  u'uess,  when  the  future  redemption  of  Israel  is  expected   i«toi.-, 
on  the  Paschal  Day,  the  15th  of  Nisan.  "  bottom 

().    We  now  ai)p)'oach  tliis  most  difficult  and  delicate  question:   ed.'^Bubpi-, 
What  was  the  expectation  of  the  ancient  Synagogue,  as  regarded  lopiitr."" 
the  ^Nature,  Person,  and  qualitications  of  the  Messiah?     In  answer-  shn-.^"^'""" 
ing  it — not  at  present  from  the  Old  Testament,  but  from  the  views  l^s!"!!.^' 
exi>ressed  in  Kabbinic  literature,  and,  so  far  as  we  can  gather  from   ^i^'j'^'i.-7a^' 
the  Uospel-narratives,  from  tliose  cherisiied  by  the  contemjioraries  of 
dirist — two  inferences  seem  evident.     First,  the  idea  of  a  Divine  Per- 
sonality, and  of  the  nnion  of  the  two  Natures  in  the  Messiah,  seems 
to  have  been  foreign  to  the  Jewish  auditory  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth, 
and  even  at  first  to  His  discii)les.      Secondly,  they   appear  to  have 
regarded  the  Messiah  as  far  above  the  ordinary  hnman,  royal,  pro- 
})hetic,  and  even  Angelic  type,  to  such  extent,  that  the  boundary-line 
separating  it  front  Divine  Personality  is  of  the  nai-rowest,  so   that, 
Avhen  the  conviction  of  the  reality  of  the  jVIessianic  manifestation  in 
Jesus  burst  on  their  minds,    this   boundary-line   was  easily,  almost 
naturally,  overstei)ped,  and  those  who  would  have  .shrunk  Irom  fram- 
ing their  belief  in  such  dogmatic  form,  readily  owned  and  worshiiiped 
Him  as  the  Son  of  God.     Nor  need  we   wonder  at   this,  even  taking 
the   highest  view  of  Old  Testament  i)rophecy.     For  here   also  the 
j)rinciple  applies,  which  underlies  one  of  St.  Paul's  most  wide-reaching 
utterances:     'We  prophesy  in  ])art'^  (f/c  yufpofg-  7rpo^7/rfZ'o/<fF). '  ficor.xiii. 
In  the  nature  of  it,  all  projjhecy  in'esents  bnt  (lisjccfo,  nienibra,  and 
it  almost  seems,  as  if  we  had  to  take  our  stand  in  the  prophet's  valley 
of  vision  (Ezek.   xxxvii.),  Avaiting  till,  at  the  bidding  of  the  Lord, 

'  See  Ajipeiidix  IX.  We   would  add.  that   tliei'c  i.-<   always  a 

-  Solitary  opinions,  however,  place  (he  'hereafter'  of    t'urtiier  devcloiJHient   iu 

future  redemption   in  the  month  Tishrl  the  history  of  tiie  individual  believer,  as 

(Taneh.   on  Ex.  xii.  :!7,  ed.  Warsh.  p.  St  in  that  of  the  Chureii— urowiui;'  hri^iUer 

I),  line  2  from  bottom).  and   briiiliter,    witii    iiu-reased   si)iritual 

'  See  the  tellinii;  renuirks  of  Oelilcr  in  eommunieation   and    kn()wled<;-e,   till  at 

I[erzo[/'s   IJeal-Eneykl.,    vol.   ix.  p.  417.  last  the  perfect  ii,i;ht  is  reaeiu'd. 


172 


FJMJM    P.KTIILEIIEM    TO    JORDAN. 


» Ps.  Ixxli. 
''  Ps.  ex. 
« Ps.  Ixxii. 
"» Is.  ix.  6  2 


CHAP,  tho  soattorod  l)()n('s  should  ]«' j.tiiicd  into  a  l)ody,  to  which  the  l)r('ath 
Tl         ot'lho  spirit  wouUl  give  life. 

■^^'' — '  Thcise  two  iiitbreiiccs,  derived  li-oiu  the  (jrospel-nai-ratives,  are  in 
exact  accordance  with  the  whole  line  of  ancient  Jewish  teaching. 
Begiiniing  with  the  LXX.  rendering  of  Genesis  xlix.  10,  and  esjje- 
cially  of  jS"unil)ers  xxiv.  T,  IT,  we  gather,  that  the  Kingdom  of  the 
Messiah^  was  higher  than  any  that  is  earthly,  and  destined  to  sulxhie 
them  all.  But  the  rendering  of  Psalm  Ixxii.  .5,  T;  Psalm  ex.  3:  and 
especially  of  Isaiah  ix. ,  carries  us  much  farther.  They  convey  the  idea, 
that  the  existence  of  this  Messiah  was  regarded  as  prcMiiundane 
(l)efore  the  moon,  "■  l)efore  tlie  morning-star''),  and  etei-nal, '  and  Hi.s 
Person  and  dignity  as  superior  to  that  of  men  and  Angels:  'the 
Angel  of  the  Great  Council,  '  **  probably  'the  Angel  of  the  Face' — a 
view  fully  contirmed  by  the  rendering  of  the  Targum.'*  The  silence 
of  the  Apocryi)ha  about  the  Person  of  the  Messiah  is  so  strange,  as 
to  be  scarcely  explained  ])\  the  consideration,  that  those  books  were 
composed  Avhen  the  need  of  a  Messiah  for  the  deliverance  of  Israel 
was  not  painfully  felt.*  All  the  more  striking  are  the  -allusions  in 
the  Pseudepigraphic  Writings,  although  these  also  do  not  carry  iis 
l)eyond  our  two  inferences.  Thus,  the  third  book  of  the  Sil\vlline  Oracles 
— which,  with  lew  exceptions,  ^  dates  from  more  than  a  century  and 
a  half  before  Christ — presents  a  picture  of  Messianic  times,\2:enerally 
admitted  to  have  formed  tlie  basis  of  Virgil's  description  of  the  Golden 
Age,  and  of  similar  lieathen  expectations.  In  these  Oracles.  170 
years  before  Christ,  the  Messiah  is  •  the  King  sod  from  ]ie<iven  '  wlio 

^■tt.285,286  Avould  'judgc  cvcry  nnm  in  blood  and  splendour  of  tire.  "  Similarly, 
the  vision  of  Messianic  times  oi)ens  with  a  reference  to  '  the  King 

Bv.  652         Whom  God  will  send  from   the  sun.^^     That  a  sui)erhunian  King- 


e  W.  652-807 


I  No  reasonaljle  iloubt  can  be  left  on 
tlie  niiiid,  that  the  LXX.  translators 
have  liere  the  Messiah  in  view. 

-  Tlie  criticism  of  Mr.  Driunmond  on 
these  ttiree  passages  (.Jewish  Messiali, 
\)\i.  2!K).  2!)1)  cannot  be  supported  on 
critical  ;:;roands. 

•■•  Tliree,  if  not  fonr.  different  render- 
insis  of  the  Targum  on  Is.  ix.  6  are  possi- 
ble. But  the  viinimnm  conveyed  to  my 
mind  implies  the  iiremundane  existence, 
the  eternal  continuance,  and  the  super- 
Imman  dii^nity  <if  the  Messiah.  (.See  also 
the  Tariium  on  Micah  v.  2.| 

^  This  is  the  view  of  (irimm.  and  more 
fully  carried  out  by  Oehler.  The  ar2;u- 
ment  of  Heiiirstenberj;,  that  the  mention 
of  such  a  Messiah   was  restrained  from 


fear  >  i  the  heatlien,  does  not  deserve 
serious  refutation. 

^  These  exceptions  are,  according  to 
Friedlii'b  (Die  Sibyllin.  Weissag.)  vv. 
l-to.  vv.  47-!)(;  (datin«i  from  40-31  be- 
fore Chri.st),  an<l  vv.  sls-,s2S.  On  the 
subject  ii-enerally,  see  our  previous  re- 
marks in  Book  I. 

«  Mr.  Drummond  defends  (at  pp.  274, 
275)  Holtzmann's  view,  that  the  expres- 
sion ajiplies  to  .'^ininn  tlie  Maecabee, 
althoui^h  on  ]>.  2!)]  he  ariiMies  on  the  op- 
liosite  supiiosition  that  the  text  refers  to 
the  Messiah.  It  is  dirticnit  to  under- 
.staml.  how  on  readiiiir  the  whole  jiassaire- 
the  hypothesis  of  Iloltzmann  could  Ite 
entertained.  While  referrinj;  to  the  3rd 
Book  of  the  Sib.  Or.,  another  point  of 


THE   MESSIAH   OF   THE    rSEUDEPlGRMMHC    WinTlN(;ri. 


178 


CHAP. 

y 


>>  fh.  i.- 
xxxvi.  and 
Ixxil.-cv. 


(loiii  of  eternal  duration,  such  a.s  this  vision  j)aints,'  sli(»ul(l  liave  a 
su{)erliunuin  King,  seems  ahiiost  a  necessary  corollary.' 

Even  more  distinct  are  the  statements  in  the  so-called  '  Book  of 
Enoch. '  Critics  are  substantially  agreed,  that  the  oldest  part  of  it '' 
dates  from  between  150  and  130  b.c.^  The  part  next  in  date  is  full 
of  Messianic  allusions;  but,  as  a  certain  class  of  modern  writers  has 
ascribed  to  it  a  post-Christian  date,  and,  however  ungrounded,^  to 
Christian  authorship,  it  may  be  better  not  to  refer  to  it  in  the  present 
argument,  the  more  so  as  we  have  other  testimony  from  the  time  of 
Herod.  Not  to  speak,  therefore,  of  such  peculiar  designations  of  the 
Messiah  as  '  the  Woman's  Son,'"  'the  Son  of  Man,""  'the  Elect,'  and  •  ixu. 5 
'  the  Just  One,'  we  mark  that  the  Messiah  is  oxi)ressly  designated  in  xu"^^"^ 
the  oldest  porticm  as  'the  S(ni  of  God'  ('I  and  My  Son').''  That 
this  implies,  not,  indeed,  essential  Sonship,  but  infinite  superiority  over 
all  other  servants  of  Clod,  and  rule  over  them,  appears  from  the 
mystic  description  of  the  Messiah  as  '  the  first  of  the  [now  changed] 
Avhite  bulls,'  '  the  great  Animal  among  them,  having  great  and  black 


m.  2; 
Ixii.  7 ;  Ixix. 
29 


considerable  interest  deserves  notice. 
According  to  tiie  tiieory  which  places 
tlie  autliorship  of  Daniel  in  the  time  of 
Antiochus  Ei)iijhanes — or  say  abont  165 
B.C. — the  '  fourth  kingdom  '  of  Daniel 
iiHist  be  the  Grecian.  But,  on  tlie  other 
hand,  such  certainly  was  iiof  the  view 
entertained  by  Apocalypts  of  the  year 
l(i5,  since  the"  3d  Book  of  the  Sib.  Or., 
w/iic/i  dates  from  jn-ecisdy  that  period, 
not  only  takes  notice  of  the  rising  power 
of  Rome,  but  anticipates  the  destruction 
of  the  Grecian  Emi)ire  by  Rome,  which 
in  turn  is  to  be  vaniiuished  by  Israel 
(vv.  175-195;  520-544;  (i:58-S07).  This 
most  important  fact  would  require  to  be 
accounted  for  by  the  opponents  of  the 
authenticity  of  Daniel. 

•  I  have  purposely  omitted  all  refer- 
ences to  controverted  passages.  But  see 
Jjungen,  D.  Judenth.  in  Palest.  pi).401  &c. 

-  The  next  oldest  portion,  consisting 
of  the  so-called  Similitudes  (ch.  x.xxvii.- 
Ixxi.),  excepting  what  are  termed  '  the 
Noachic^  parts,  dates  from  about  the 
time  of  Herod  the  (ireat. 

■'  HcJiilrer  (Lehrb.  d.  Neutest.  Zeitg. 
|)p.  534,  535)  has,  I  think,  conclusively 
shown  that  this  portion  of  the  Book  of 
F]noch  is  of  Jewish  authorship,  and  jire- 
Christian  date.  If  so,  it  were  deeply 
interesting  to  follow  its  account  of  the 
Messiah.  He  appears  by  the  side  of  the 
Ancient  of  Days,  His  face  like  the  ap- 


pearance of  a  man,  and  yet  so  lovely, 
like  that  of  one  of  the  lioly  Angels.  This 
'  Son  of  Man  '  has,  and  with  Him  dwells, 
all  righteousness;  He  reveals  the  treas- 
ures of  all  that  is  liidden,  being  chosen  by 
the  Lord,  is  sui)erior  to  all,  and  destined 
to  subdue  and  destroy  all  the  powers  and 
kingdoms  of  wickedness  (cli.  xlvi.).  Al- 
though only  revealed  at  the  last.  His 
Name  had  been  named  before  God,  be- 
fore sun  or  stars  were  created.  He  is 
the  start'  on  which  the  righteous  lean,  the 
light  of  nations,  and  the  hope  of  all  who 
mourn  in  spirit.  All  are  to  bow  down 
before  Him,  and  adore  Him,  and  for  this 
He  was  chosen  and  liidden  with  God  be- 
fore the  world  was  created,  and  will  con- 
tinue before  Him  for  ever  (ch.  xlviii.). 
This  '  Elect  One '  is  to  sit  on  the  throne 
of  glory,  and  dwell  among  His  saints. 
Heaven  and  earth  would  be  removed, 
and  only  the  saints  would  abide  on  the 
renewed  earth  (ch.  xlv.).  He  is  mighty 
in  all  the  secrets  of  righteousiu^ss,  and 
unrighteousness  would  tiee  as  a  shadow, 
because  His  glory  lasteil  from  eternity  to 
eternity,  and  His  power  from  generation 
to  generation  (ch.  xiix.).  Then  would  the 
earth.  Hades,  and  hell  give  up  their  dead, 
and  Messiah,  sitting  on  His  throne,  would 
select  and  own  the  just,  and  open  u))  all 
secrets  of  wisdom,  amidst  the  universal 
joy  of  ransomed  earth  (cii.  li.,  Ixi.,  Ixii.). 


174 


FROM    ]]P:THLE11IvM    to    JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


I'  in  Pa.  xi. 


^^inPs.xvii. 
'1  xviii. 
=  xvii.  5 
fy.  23 
g  V.  35 
i>  V.  36 


t  vv.  42,  43 
>"  V.  47 


"Xil.  32; 
xiii.  26,52: 
xiv.  9 


honi.s  oil  1 1  is  licad  " '' — Whom  '  all  the  beasts  of  the  field  aud  all  the 
fowls  of  heaven  dread,  and  to  Whom  they  cry  at  all  times.' 

Still  more  explicit  is  that  beautiful  collection  of  eighteen  Psalms, 
dating  from  about  lialf  a  century  before  Christ,  which  bears  the  name 
of  'the  Psalter  of  Solomon.'  A  chaste  antici})ation  of  the  Messianic 
Kingdom ''  is  followed  by  a  full  description  of  its  need  and  its  bless- 
ings," to  which  the  concluding  Psalm ''forms  an  apt  epilogue.  The 
King  Who  reigns  is  of  the  house  of  David.''  He  is  the  Son  of  David, 
Who  comes  at  the  time  known  to  God  only,  to  reign  over  Israel. "^ 
He  is  a  righteous  King,  taught  of  God.^  He  is  Christ  tlie  Lord 
(XpicTTog  Kvpio?:,^  exactly  as  in  the  LXX.  translation  ofLamentations 
iv.  20).  ^  He  is  2yure  from  si7i,' which,  qualities  Him  for  ruling  His 
people,  and  banishing  sinners  by  His  word.'  '  Never  in  His  days  will 
He  be  infirm  towards  His  God,  since  God  renders  Him  strong  in  the 
Holy  Ghost,'  wise  in  counsel,  Avith  might  and  righteousness  ('  mighty 
in  deed  and  word  ').  The  blessing  of  the  Lord  being  upon  Him,  He 
does  not  fail."  '  This  is  the  beauty  of  the  King  of  Israel,  Whom  God 
hath  chosen,  to  set  Him  over  the  house  of  Israel  to  rule  it.'"  Thus 
invincible,  not  by  outward  might,  but  in  His  God,  He  will  bring  His 
people  the  blessings  of  restoration  to  their  tribal  possessions,  and  (jf 
righteousness,  but  break  in  pieces  His  enemies,  not  by  outward  weapons, 
but  by  the  word  of  His  mouth;  purify  Jerusalem,  and  judge  the 
nations,  who  will  be  subject  to  His  rule,  and  behold  and  own  His  gloj-y." 
Manifestly,  this  is  not  an  earthly  Kingdom,  nor  yet  an  earthly  King. 

If  we  now  turn  to  works  dating  after  the  Christian  era,  we  would 
naturally  expect  them,  either  simply  to  reproduce  earlier  opinions,  or, 
from  opposition  to  Christ,  to  present  the  Messiah  in  a  less  exalted 
manner.^  But  since,  strange  to  say,  they  even  more  strongly  assert 
the  high  dignity  of  the  Messiah,  we  are  warranted  in  regarding  this 
as  the  rooted  belief  of  the  Synagogue.-  This  estimate  of  the  Messiah 
may  be  gathered  from  IV  Esdras,"'*  with  which  the  kindred  picture  of 


'  In  illustration  of  this  tomleiicy  we 
may  (iu<jte  the  follo\vinf>-,  evidently  i)oleni- 
icai  saying,  of  R.  Abbahu.  '  If  any  man 
saith  to  thee.  "I  am  God,"  he  is  a  liar; 
"I  am  the  Son  of  Man,"  he  will  at  last 
repent  of  it;  "  I  .iro  up  to  heaven,"  hath 
he  said,  and  shall  lie  not  do  it?'  [or, 
he  hath  said,  and  shall  not  make  it 
f?ood]  (.Jer.  Taan.  ]).  C>:y  fi.  line  7  from 
bottom).  This  R.  Alibalm  (27<)-P.2()  of 
our  era)  seems  to  have  laricely  engaii-ed 
in  controversy  with  .Fewish  Cliristians. 
Thus  lie  sonu^ht   to    arirue   aii'ainst    the 


Soiiship  of  Christ,  1)y  ci>iniiieiitin,i>',  as 
follows,  on  Is.  xliv.  (i:  '  "  I  am  the  tir.st  " 
— liecause  He  has  no  father;  '•!  am  the 
last" — because  He  has  no  Son;  '-and 
lieside  me  there  is  no  God  " — becau.se 
He  has  no  brother  (equal)'  (Shem.  R.  29, 
ed.  Warsh.  vol.  ii.  p.  41  a,  line  8  from  bot- 
tom). 

-'  It  is.  to  say  the  least,  a  iiity  that  Mr. 
Drummond  should  have  imatcined  that 
the  f|uestion  could  be  so  easily  settled 
on  the  premises  which  he  presents. 

■■'  The  4tii  IJuok  of  Esdrasfin  our  Ajiocr. 


THE    MESSIAH    OF    THE    TALMUD. 


175 


the  Messiah  iind  His  reigii  iu  the  Apocalypse  of  B;n-uch  '  may  l)(' 
eompared.  But  even  in  strictly  Rabbinic  documents,  the  prentunduni', 
if  not  the  eternal  existence  of  the  Messiah  appears  as  matter  of  com- 
mon belief.  Such  is  the  view  expressed  in  the  Targum  on  Is.  ix.  0, 
and  in  that  on  Micah  v.  2.  But  the  Midrash  on  Prov.  viii.  9 ''  ex- 
pressly mentions  the  Messiah  among  the  seven  things  created  before 
the  world.'  The  passage  is  the  more  important,  as  it  throws  light  on 
quite  a  series  of  others,  in  which  the  Name  of  the  Messiah  is  said  to 
have  been  created  before  the  world. '^  Even  if  this  were  an  ideal 
conception,  it  would  prove  the  Messiah  to  be  elevated  above  the  ordi- 
nary conditions  of  humanity.  But  it  means  much  more  than  this, 
since  not  only  the  existence  of  the  Messiah  long  before  His  actual 
appearance,  but  His  p>-emi^w(Za/ie  state  are  clearly  taught  in  other 
places.  In  the  Talmud  '^  it  is  not  only  implied,  that  the  Messiah  may 
already  be  among  the  living,  but  a  strange  story  is  related,  according 
to  which  He  had  actually  been  born  in  the  royal  palace  at  Bethlehem, 
bore  the  name  Menachem  (Comforter),  was  discovered  by  one  R.  Judan 
through  a  peculiar  device,  but  had  been  carried  away  by  a  stoiMii, 
Similarly,  the  Babylon  Talmud  represents  Him  as  sitting  at  the 
gate  of  Imperial  Rome."'  In  general,  the  idea  of  the  Messiah's 
appearance  and  concealment  is  familiar  to  Jewish  tradition. '^  But 
the  Rabbis  go  much  farther  back,  and  declare  that  from  the  time  of 
Judah's  marriage,^  '  God  busied  Himself  with  creating  the  light  of 
the  Messiah,'  it  being  significantly  added  that,  'before  the  first  op- 
pressor [Pharaoh]  was  born,  the  final  deliverer  [Messiah,  the  son  of 
David]  was  already  born."'  In  another  passage  the  Messiah  is  ex- 
pressly identified  with  A  nani, '  and  therefore  represented  as  pre-existent 
long  before  his  actual  manifestation."  The  same  inference  may  be 
drawn  from  His  emphatic  designation  as  the  First.""  Lastly,  in  Yalkut 
on  Is.  Ix.,  the  words  'In  Thy  light  shall  we  see  light'  (Ps.  xxxvi.  9)  are 


II.  Esdras)  dates  from  the  end  of  the  tirst 
century  of  our  era — aud  so  does  tlie 
Apocalypse  of  Baruch. 

1  These  are:  the  Throne  of  Glory, 
Messiah  the  King,  the  Torah,  (ideal) 
Israel,  the  Temple,  repentance,  and 
Gehenna. 

■^  In  Pirqe  de  R.  El.  and  the  other 
authorities  these  seven  things  are:  the 
Torah,  Gehenna,  Paradise,  the  Throne 
of  Glory,  the  Temple,  repentance,  and 
the  Name  of  the  Messiah. 

3  In  Ber.  R.  six  things  are  mentioned: 
two  actually  created  (the  Torah  and 
the  Throne  of  Glory),  and  four  which 


came  into  His  Mind  to  create  them  (the 
Fathers,  Israel,  the  Temple,  and  the 
Name  of  the  Messiah). 

*  In  Tanch.  seven  things  are  enumer- 
ated (the  six  as  in  Ber.  R.,  with  the 
addition  of  repentance),  '  aud  some  say: 
also  Paradise  aud  Gehenna.' 

^  In  that  passage  the  time  of  Messiah's 
concealment  is  calculated  at  forty-li\(' 
days,  from  a  comparison  of  Dan.  xii.  1 1 
with  V.  12. 

^  The  comment  on  this  passage  is 
curiously  mystical,  but  clearly  imi^lies 
not  only  the  pre-existence,  but  the  super- 
human character  of  the  Messiah. 


CHAP. 


"  ixx.  y- 

Ixxiv. 

I'Ed.  LBinb. 
p.  la 


'■  Pirqe  de 
n.  E.  3: 
Midr.onPs. 
xcUi.  1 :  P.S. 
54o;Ncdar. 
39  h ;  Ber. 
E.  1: 

Tanch.  on 
Nuiiib.  vli. 
U,  ed. 
Warsh. 
vol.  ii.  p. 
56  t),  at  the 
bottom 

<>  Jer.  Ber. 
ii.  4,  p.  5  a 


■■Sanh.  98  a; 
conii".  al.s() 
Jerua. 
Targ.  ou 
Ex.  xii.  42; 
Pirqe  de  E. 
El.  30,  and 
other  pas- 
sages 

f  See  for 
example 
Pesiqta.ed 
Buber,  p. 
49  6  i 

sGen.. 
xxxviii.  1,  2 

!>  Ber.  R.  85, 
ed.  Warsh. 
p.  151  b 

'Mentioned 
iu  1  Chr.iii. 

24  « 

''  Tanch. 
Par. 

To  edoth, 
14.  ed. 
Warsh.  p. 
37  6 

m  Ber.  R.  63, 
ed. Warsh. 
p.  114  '): 
Vayyikra 
B.  30,  ed. 
W.  vol.  ill. 
p.  47  a; 
Pes.  3  a 


ne 


FROM    ]!1:T1ILP:IIEM    to    JORDAN. 


HOOK 
II 


Yalkut  ii. 


fcShem.K.l, 
ed.W.  vol. 
ii.  p.  n  li : 
Tan  I -li.  Par. 
Tazrva,  8, 
ed.W.  vol. 
ii.  p.  £0  a 

•^  Peslqta, 
ed.  Buber, 
p.  49  '/ ; 
Midr. 

Ruth, Par.-), 
ed.W.  p. 
43  // 

'I  Sanh.  98  (! 


'  Plrqe  de 
R.  El.  31, 
ed.  Lemb. 
p.  38  a 


<■  Plrqe  de 
K.  El.  u.  s.. 
p.  39  a, 
close 
f  Beiiiid. 
R.  IS,  close 
of  tbcPar. 
••  Ps.  Ixxii. 
16 

i  According 
to  the  last 
clause  of 
(English 
version) 
.Joel  iii.  18 
(Midr.  on 
Eccles.  i.  9, 
ed.  Warsh, 
vol.  iv. 
p.  80  //I 


c.xpliiiiu'd  as  iiicauiiiii-,  that  this  is  the  light  of  the  Messiah, — the  same 
which  (iod  had  at  the  lirst  pronounced  to  be  very  good,  and  whieli, 
Ijelore  the  world  was  created,  He  had  hid  beneath  the  throne  of  His 
glory  for  the  Messiah  and  His  age.  When  Satan  asked  for  whom  it 
was  reserved,  he  was  told  that  it  was  destined  for  Him  Who  would 
})ut  him  to  shame,  and  destroy  him.  And  when,  at  his  request,  he 
was  shown  the  Messiah,  he  fell  on  his  face  and  owned,  that  the 
Messiah  would  in  the  future  cast  him  and  the  Gentiles  into  Gehenna.'* 
Whatever  else  may  be  inferred  from  it,  this  passage  clearly  implies  not 
only  the  pre-existence,  but  the  premundane  existence  of  the  Messiah.' 
But,  indeed,  it  carries  us  much  farther.  For,  a  Messiah,  pre- 
existent,  in  the  I'resence  of  God,  and  destined  to  subdue  Satan  and 
cast  him  into  hell,  could  not  have  been  regarded  as  an  ordinary  man. 
It  is  indeed  true  that,  as  the  history  of  Elijah,  so  that  of  the  Messiah 
is  throughout  compared  with  that  of  Moses,  the  '  first '  with  '  the  last 
Redeemer.'  As  Moses  was  educated  at  the  court  of  Pharaoh,  so  the 
Messiah  dwells  in  Rome  (or  PJdom)  among  His  enemies.''  Like  Moses 
He  comes,  withdraws,  and  comes  again."  Like  Moses  He  works 
deliverance.  But  here  the  analogy  ceases,  for,  whereas  the  redemption 
by  Moses  was  temporary  and  comparatively  small,  that  of  the  Messiah 
would  be  eternal  and  absolute.  All  the  marvels  connected  with 
Moses  were  to  be  intensified  in  the  Messiah.  The  ass  on  which  the 
Messiah  would  ride — and  this  humble  estate  was  only  caused  by 
Israel's  sin'^ — would  be  not  only  that  on  which  Moses  had  come  back 
to  Egypt,  but  also  that  which  Abraham  had  used  when  he  went  to 
offer  up  Isaac,  and  which  had  l)een  specially  created  on  the  eve  of  the 
world's  first  Sabbath."  Similarly,  the  horns  of  the  ram  caught  in  the 
thicket,  which  was  offered  instead  of  Isaac,  were  destined  for  blowing 
— the  left  one  by  the  Almighty  on  Mount  Sinai,  the  right  and  larger 
one  by  the  Messiah,  when  He  would  gather  the  outcasts  of  Israel  (Is. 
xxvii.  13).'  Again,  the  'rod'  of  the  Messiah  was  that  of  Aaron, 
which  had  budded,  ))lossomed,  and  burst  into  fruit;  as  also  that  on 
which  Jacob  had  leaned,  and  w^hich,  through  Judah,  had  passed  to  all 
the  kings  of  Israel,  till  the  destruction  of  the  Temple.*^  And  so  the 
principle  that  '■  the  later  Deliverer  would  l)o  like  the  first '  was  carried 
into  every  detail.  As  the  first  Deliverer  brought  doivn  the  Manna,  so 
the  Messiah ;  ^  as  the  first  Deliverer  had  made  a  spring  of  water  to 
rise,  so  ivould  the  second.' 


'  The  whole  of  tlii.s  very  remarkable  passage  is  given  in  Ajjpendix  IX.,  in  the 
notes  on  Is.  x.w.  8;  l.\.  1  ;  l.xiv.  4;  .Ter.  .xxxi.  8. 


liAPT    JEWISH    HOPE    OF    THE    MESSIAH.  177 

But  evoii  this  is  not  all.     Tlvdt  the    Messiah    had,   without  any      CIIAI'. 
instruction,  attained  to  knowledge  ol"  God;  ■'  and  that  He  had  received,  V 

dire(!tly  from  Ilini,  all  wisdom,   knowledge,   counsel,   and  grace,''  is  "-^ — ' 

comparatively  little,  since  the  same  was  claimed  for  Al)raham,  Job,  ^^®^g^- 

and  Hezekiah.      But  we  ai-e  told  that,  when  God  showed  Moses  all  warah. 

■  p.  5o  a 

his  successors,  the  spirit  of  wisdom  and  knowledge  in  the  Messiali   'Bemid. r. 
equalled  that  of  all  tlie  others  together.'     The    Messiah  would  be    '    ,,    . 

1  '^  '-■  \alkut  on 

'greater  tlian  the  Patriai'chs,'  higher  than  Moses,'  and  even  loftier  ^""i>,,. 
than  the  ministering  Angels:^  In  view  of  this  we  can  understand,  ^^^'-J- 1'- 
how  the  Midrash  on  Psalm  xxi.  3  should  apply  to  the  Messiah,  in  all   ■iTancn.. 

Par  Xol6- 

its  literality,  that  'God  would  set  His  own  crown  on  His  head,'  and  dottiu 
clothe  Him  with  His  'honour  and  majesty.'  It  is  onh^  consistent  that 
the  same  Midrash  should  assign  to  the  Messiah  the  Divine  designations: 
%I(!liovali   is  a  Man   of  War,'  and  'Jehovah  our  Righteousness.'"  Tehfii'ed 
One    other   quotation,     from     perhai)s    the   most    spiritual     Jewish   ^^^^f^- 
commentary,    must   be    added,    reminding   us    of  that    outburst    of 
adoring  wonder  which  once  greeted  Jesus  of  Nazareth.     The  pas- 
sage first  refers  to  the  seven  garments  with  v^^hich  God  successively 
robed   Himself — the  first  of   'honour   and  glory,'  at  creation;  "^  the  fps.  civ.  i 
second  of  'nmjesty,'  at  the  Red  Sea;  °  the  third  of   'strength,'  at  pps. xcui. i 
the  giving  (jf  the   Law;''  the  fourth  'white,'  when  He  blotteth  out  ^ps. xcui. i 
the  sins  of  Israel;'  the  fifth  of  'zeal,'  when   He  avengetli  them  of  iDan.  vu.  9 
their  enemies;"  the  sixth  of  'righteousness,'  at  the  time  when  the  ms.  ux.  it 
Messiah  should  be  revealed; '"  and  the  seventh  '  red,'  when  He  would   »■!«.  ux.  \i 
take  vengeance  on  Edom  (Rome). "   '  But,'  continues  the  commentarj',    "is.  ixm. 
'  the  garment  with  which  in  the  future  He  will  clothe  the  Messiah, 
its  splendour  will  extend  from  one  end  of  the  world  to  the  other,  as 
it  is  written: "  ' 'As  a  bridegroom  priestly  in  headgear. "  And  Israel  are  •>  is.  ixi.  lo 
astounded  at  His  light,  and  say:  Blessed  the  hour  in  which  the  Messiah 
was  created;  blessed  the  womb  whence  He  issued;  blessed  the  genera- 
tion that  sees  Him;  blessed  the  eye  that  is  worthy  to  behold  Him;  be- 
cause the  opening  of  His  lips  is  blessing  and  peace,  and  His  speech  quiet- 
ing of  the  spirit.     Glory  and  majesty  are  in  His  appearance  (vesture), 
and  confidence   and  tranquillity  in  His  words;   and  on  His  tongue 
compassion  and  forgiveness;  His  prayer  is  a  sweet-smelling  odour, 
and  His  supplication  holiness  and  purity.     Happy    Israel,  what  is 
reserved   for    vou!     Thus    it  is   written:''    "How    manifold    is    Thy  pPs.  xxxi. 

19 

goodness,  which  Thou  hast  reserved  to  them  that  fear  Tliee."  '  '^     Such  ,  pesiqta. 
a  King  Messiah   might  well   be   represented  as  sitting  at  the  Right   pp.  ^^s^  a^'/- 

'  This  is  tiu!  more  iiotevvorthy  as,  ac-      so  ,2;reat  as  Moses,  who  was  only  inferior 
cording  to  SoUih  9  b,  none  in  Israel  was      to  the  Aimi2;hty. 


178 


Fi;()M    UKTHLKIIEM    To   .lOliDAN. 


15()()1 


•'  Midr.  on 
Ps.  xviii.iiG, 
ed.  War.Hli. 
p.  27  (/ 

*  Midr.  on 
Ps.cx.l.ed. 
Warsh. 
p.  W  b 


«  Ber.  R.  2:i, 
ed  Warsh. 
p.  45  h 

•>  Gen.  xix. 
32 


'•  Ber.  R.  51 
ed.  Warah. 
p.  9.5  a 


fBer.  R.  2; 

and  8; 
Vayyikra 
R.  U.  ed. 
Warsh.  vol. 
Hi.  I),  il  '' 


?  Midr.  on 
Lament, 
i.  16,  ed 
Warsh. 
p.  64  fl,  last 
line  comp. 
Pesiqta, 
p.  14K  a :  * 
Midr.  on 
Ps.xxi.  and 
the  very 
curious 
conces- 
sions in  a 
contro- 
versy with 
a  Christian 
recorded  in 
Sanh.  a8  b 


Hand  of  (t(xI,  while  Al)raliain  was  oiil^  at  His  left:"  nay,  as  throw- 
ing forth  His  Right  Hand,  while  God  stood  up  to  war  for  Him." 

It  is  not  without  hesitation,  that  we  make  reference  to  Jewish 
alhisions  to  the  miraculous  birth  of  the  Saviour.  Yet  there  are  two 
expressions,  which  convey  the  idea,  if  not  of  superhuman  origin,  yet 
of  some  great  mystery  attaching  to  His  birth.  The  first  occurs  in 
connection  with  the  birth  of  Seth.  '  Rabbi  Tanchuma  said,  in  the 
name  of  Rabbi  Samuel:  I^vc  had  respect  [had  regard,  looked  for- 
ward] to  that  Seed  which  is  to  come  from  another  place.  And  who 
is  this?  This  is  Messiah  the  King.'"  The  second  appears  in  the 
narrative  of  the  crime  of  Lot's  daughters:'^  'It  is  not  written,  ''that 
wx  may  preserve  a  son  from  our  father,"  but  "seed  from  our  father."' 
This  is  that  seed  which  is  coming  from  another  place.  And  who  is 
this?     This  is  the  King  Messiah.'^' 

That  a  superhuman  character  attached,  if  not  to  the  Personality, 
yet  to  the  Mission  of  the  Messiah,  appears  from  three  passages,  in 
which  the,  expression,  '  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  moved  upon  the  face 
of  the  deep,' is  thus  paraphrased:  '  This  is  the  Spirit  of  the  King 
Messiah.  "^'^  Whether  this  implies  some  activity  of  the  Messiah  in 
connection  with  creation,*  or  only  that,  from  the  first.  His  Mission 
was  to  have  a  bearing  on  all  creation,  it  elevates  His  character  and 
work  above  every  other  agency,  human  or  Angelic.  And,  without 
pressing  the  argument,  it  is  at  least  very  remarkable  that  even  the 
Ineffable  Name  JehovaJi  is  expressly  attributed  to  the  Messiah.  «  The 


1  I  am,  of  course,  aware  that  certain 
Rabbinists  explain  tlie  expression  '  Seed 
from  another  place,'  as  referrinfi  to  the 
descent  of  the  Messiah  from  Ruth — a 
non-Israelite.  But  if  this  explanation 
could  be  offered  in  reference  to  the 
daughters  of  Lot,  it  is  difficult  to  see  its 
meaning  in  reference  to  Eve  and  the 
birth  of  Seth.  The  connection  there  with 
the  words  (Gen.  iv.  25),  'God  hath  ap- 
pointed me  another  Seed,'  would  be  the 
very  loosest. 

'^  I  am  surprised,  tliat  CastelU  (u.  s. 
I).  207)  should  have  contended,  that  the 
reading  in  Ber.  R.  8  and  Vay.  R.  14 
should  be  '  the  Spirit  of  Adam.'  For  (1) 
the  attempted  correction  gives  neitlier 
sense,  nor  proper  meaning.  (2)  The 
passage  Ber.  R.  1  is  not  impugned;  yet 
that  passage  is  tiie  basis  of  the  otiier 
two.  (3)  Ber.  R.  8  must  read,  'The 
Spirit  of  God  moved  on  the  deej) — that 
is,  the  Si)irit  of  Messiah  the  King,'  because 
the  proof-passage  is  immediately  added. 


'and  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  shall  rest 
upon  Him,'  whicli  is  a  Messianic  passage; 
and  because,  only  two  lines  before  the 
impugned  passage,  we  are  told,  that  Gen. 
i.  2(i,  Lst  clause,  refers  to  the  'spirit  of  the 
first  man.'  The  latter  remark  applies 
also  to  Vayyikra  R.  14,  where  the  context 
equally  forljids  the  proposed  correction. 

•'  It  would  be  very  interesting  to  com- 
l)are  with  this  the  statements  of  Philo  as 
to  the  agency  of  ihe  Logos  in  Creation. 
The  subject  is  very  well  treated  by  Biehm 
(Lehrbegr.  d.  Hebr.  Br.  pp.  414-420). 
althougli  I  cannot  agree  w-ith  all  his  con- 
clusions. 

*  The  whole  of  this  passage,  beginning 
at  p.  147  h,  is  very  curious  and  deeply  in- 
teresting. It  would  lead  too  far  to  quote 
it,  or  other  parallel  passages  which  miglit 
be  adduced.  Tlie  passage  in  the  Midrasli 
on  Lament,  i.  l(i  is  also  extremely  inter- 
esting. After  tlie  statement  quoted  in 
the  text,  there  follows  a  discussion  on 
the  names  of  the  Messiah,  and  then  the 


I'RKI'AliKDNEHS    FOi;    ()\VNiN(;    IIIM    AS    Till-:    SON    OF    (lOD.  179 

fact  bocuiiies  the  more  sigiiiticaiit,  when   we  recall  thai  one  of  the      CHAP, 
most  familiar  names  of  the  Mesf^iah  was  Anani — He  Who  cometh  in  V 

the  clouds  of  heaven."  ^ — -<- — 

In  what  has  been  stated,  no  reference  has  been  made  to  the  tinal  'Kan.vu.ia 
conquests  of  Messiah,  to  His  reign  with  all  its  wondei's,  or  to  the 
subdual  of  all  nations — in  short,  to  what  are  commonly  called  'the 
last  things.'  This  will  be  treated  in  another  connection.  Nor  is  it 
contended  that,  whatever  individuals  may  have  expected,  the  Syna- 
gogue taught  the  doctrine  of  the  Divine  I'ersonality  of  the  Messiah, 
as  held  by  the  Christian  Church.  On  the  other  hand,  the  cumulative 
evidence  just  presented  must  leave  on  the  mind  at  least  this  con- 
viction, that  the  Messiah  expected  was  far  above  the  conditions  of  the 
most  exalted  of  God's  servants,  even  His  Angels;  in  short,  so  closely 
bordering  on  the  Divine,  that  it  was  almost  impossible  to  distinguish 
Him  therefrom.  In  such  circumstances,  it  only  needed  the  personal 
conviction,  that  He,  Who  taught  and  wrought  as  none  other,  was 
really  the  Messiah,  to  kindle  at  His  word  into  the  adoring  confession, 
that  He  was  indeed  'the  Son  of  the  Living  God.'  And  once  that 
point  reached,  the  mind,  looking  back  through  the  teaching  of  the 
Synagogue,  would,  with  increasing  clearness,  perceive  that,  however 
ill-understood  in  the  past,  this  had  been  all  along  the  sum  of  the 
whole  Old  Testament.  Thus,  we  can  understand  alike  the  prepared- 
ness for,  and  yet  the  gradualness  of  conviction  on  this  point;  then, 
the  increasing  clearness  with  which  it  emerged  in  the  consciousness 
of  the  disciples;  and,  finally,  the  unhesitating  distinctness  with  which 
it  was  put  forward  in  Ajiostolic  teaching  as  the  fundamental  article 
of  belief  to  the  Church  Catholic' 

curious  story  about  tlie  ^les^iah  havuii;;  tinal  conchision,   that  tbe   Messiah  was 

already  been  born  in  Bothlelieni.  truly  the  Son  of  God,  while  it  has  been 

1  It  will  be  noticed,  that  the   cuniula-  our  purpose  simi)ly  to   state,  what  wis 

tive  argument  presented  in  the  foreiiMiinn"  the  exjjectation    of   the   (indent  Si/iiii- 

pages  follows  closely  tluit   in   the  first  gogne,  not  what  it  should  have  been  ac- 

chapter  of  the  lilpistle  to  tlie  Hebrews;  cording  to  the  Old  Testameut. 
only,  that  the  latter  carries  it  up  to  its 


1^0  FKOxM   BETHLEHEM   TO   .lOllDAN, 


CHAPTER  YI. 

THE  NATIVITY  OF  JESUS  THE  MESSIAH. 
(St.  Matthew  i.  25;  St.  Luke  ii.  1-20.) 

BOOK      Such  then  was  '  the  hope  of  the  promise  made  of  God  unto  the  fathers,' 
II         for  which  the  twelve  tribes,  'instantly  serving-  ((iod)  night  and  day,' 

-— r '   longed — with  such  vividness,  that  they  read  it  in  almost  every  event 

and  promise;  with  such  earnestness,  that  it  ever  was  the  burden  of  their 
prayers;  with  such  intensity,  that  nmny  and  long  centuries  of  disap- 
pointment have  not  quenchetl  it.  Its  light,  comparatively  dim  in  days 
of  sunshine  and  calm,  seemed  to  burn  Indghtest  in  the  dark  and  h)U('ly 
nights  of  suffering,  as  if  each  gust  that  swept  over  Israel  only  kindled 
it  into  fresh  flame. 

To  the  (juestion,  whether  this  hoi)c  has  ever  been  realised — or 
rather,  whether  One  has  appeared  Whose  claims  to  the  Messiahship 
have  stood  the  test  of  investigation  and  of  time — impartial  history 
can  make  only  one  answer.  It  points  to  Bethlehem  and  to  Nazareth. 
If  the  claims  of  Jesus  have  been  rejected  by  the  Jewish  Nation,  He 
has  at  least,  undoubtedly,  fulfilled  one  partofthe  Mission  prophetically 
assigned  to  the  Messiah.  Whether  or  not  He  l)e  the  Lion  of  the 
tribe  of  Judah,  to  Him,  assuredly,  has  1)een  the  gathering  of  the 
nations,  and  the  isles  have  waited  for  His  law.  Passing  the  narrow 
bounds  of  obscure  Judasa,  and  breaking  down  the  walls  of  national 
prejudice  and  isolation,  He  has  made  the  sublimer  teaching  of  the 
Old  Testament  the  common  j^ossession  of  the  world,  and  founded  a 
great  Brotherhood,  of  which  tlie  God  of  Israel  is  the  Father.  He 
alone  also  has  exhibited  a  life,  in  which  absolutely  no  fault  could  be 
found;  and  promulgated  a  teaching,  to  which  absolutely  no  exception 
can  be  taken.  Admittedly,  He  was  the  One  'perfect  Man — the  ideal 
of  humanity.  His  doctrine  the  one  absolute  teaching.  The  world 
has  known  none  other,  none  equal.  And  the  world  has  owned  it,  if 
not  by  the  testimony  of  words,  yet  by  the  evidence  of  facts.  Spring- 
ing from  such  a  people;  born,  living,  and  dying  in  circumstances,  and 
using  means,  the  most  unlikely  of  such  residts — the  Man  of  Nazareth 


TIIK    JOUUNEY   OF   JU.SEPH   AND    MARY   TO    BETHLEHEM. 


181 


lias,  1)}  uuiver.sal  coiisout,  been  the  mightiest  Factor  in  oui'  world's     CHAI'. 
history:  alike  politically,   socially,   intellectually,   and    morally.       If        VI 
He  be  not  the  Messiah,  He  has  at  least  thus  far  done  the  Messiah's   ^^ — r — 
work.     If  He  be  not  the  Messiah,  there  has  at  least  ])een  none  other, 
before  or  after  Him.      If  He  be  not  the  Messiah,  the  woi-ld  has  not, 
and  never  can  have,  a  Messiah. 

To  Bethlehem  as  the  birthplace  of  Messiah,  not  only  Old  Testa- 
ment prediction,''  but  the  testimony  of  Rabbinic  teaching-,  unhesi-  "Micauv.  2 
tatingly  pointed.  Yet  nothing  could  be  imagined  more  directly  contrary 
to  Jewisli  thoughts  and  feelings — and  hence  nothing  less  likely  to 
suggest  itself  to  Jewish  invention' — than  the  circumstances  which, 
according  to  the  Gospel-narrative,  brought  about  the  birth  of  the 
Messiah  in  Bethlehem.  A  counting  of  the  people,  or  Census;  and 
that  Census  taken  at  the  bidding  of  a  heathen  Emi)eror,  and 
executed  by  one  so  universally  hated  as  Herod,  wouhl  represent  the  /«e 
plus  ultra  of  all  that  was  most  repugnant  to  Jewish  feeling.  '  It  the 
account  of  the  circumstances,  which  brought  Joseph  and  Mary  to 
Bethlehem,  has  no  basis  in  fact,  but  is  a  legend  invented  to  locate 
the  birth  of  the  Nazarene  in  the  royal  City  of  David,  it  must  be 
pronounced  most  clumsily  devised.  There  is  absolutely  nothing  to 
account  for  its  origination — either  from  parallel  events  in  the  past,  or 
from  contemporary  expectancy.  Why  then  connect  the  birth  of 
their  Messiah  with  what  was  most  repugnant  to  Israel,  especially  if, 
as  the  advocates  of  the  legendary  hypothesis  contend,  it  did  not 
occur  at  a  time  when  any  Jewish  Census  was  taken,  but  ten  years 
previously? 

But  if  it  be  impossible  rationally  to  account  for  any  legendary 
origin  of  the  narrative  of  Josei)h  and  Mary's  journey  to  Bethlehem, 
the  historical  grounds,  on  which  its  accuracy  has  been  impugned,  are 
equally  insufficient.  They  resolve  themselves  into  this:  that  (beyond 
the  Gospel-narrative)  we  have  no  solid  evidence  that  Cyrenius  was  at 
that  time  occupying  the  needful  official  position  in  the  East,  to  order 
such  a  registration  for  Herod  to  carry  out.  But  even  this  feeble  con- 
tention is  by  no  means  historically  unassailable.  ^     At  any  rate,  there 

'  The  advocates  of  the  mythical  theory  l)eii  Jesu  i.  2,  p.  393) ;  but  all  the  more 
hav(i  not  answered,  not  even  faced  or  comjilicated  and  inexplicable  is  the  ori,i!;i- 
iuid(U'stood,  what  to  us  seems,  on  their  nation  of  the  leu'cnd,  wliich  accounts  for 
hypothesis,  an  insuperable  difficulty,  the  journey  thitlier  of  Mary  and  Joseph, 
(irantina;,  that  Jewish  expectancy  would  '■'  In  evidence  of  these  feelin,<''s,  we 
suffsest  tlie  birth  of  Jesus  at  Bethleliem.  have  the  account  of  ,Josep/ii/s  of  the  con- 
why  invent  such  circumstances  to  tuing  sequences  of  the  taxation  of  Cyrenius 
Mary  to  Bethlehem?  Keiit/  maylK'  rift-ht  (Ant.  xviii.  1.  1.  Couip.  Acts  v.  37). 
in  saying:  'The  belief  in  the  birth  at  -^  The  arguments  on  what  may  be  called 
l?(^thlehem   originated  very  simply  (Le-  the  ortliodox  side  have,    from  difierent 


182 


FROM    BETHLEIIEM    TO    .lOIJDAN. 


BOOK 

n 


"Com  p. 
Acts  V.  37 


are  two  facts,  which  render  any  lii.^torical  mistake  by  8t.  Luke  on 
this  point  extremely  difficnlt  to  believe.  First,  he  was  evidently 
aware  of  a  Census  under  Cyrenius,  ten  years  later;"  secondly,  what- 
ever rendering  of  St.  Luke  ii.  2  may  be  adopted,  it  will  at  least  be 
admitted,  that  the  intercalated  sentence  about  Cyrenius  was  not 
necessary  for  the  narrative,  and  that  the  writer  must  have  intended 
thereby  emphatically  to  mark  a  certain  event.  But  an  author  would 
not  be  likely  to  call  special  attention  to  a  fact,  of  which  he  had  only 
indistinct  knowledge;  rather,  if  it  must  be  mentioned,  would  he  do 
so  in  the  most  indefinite  terms.  This  presumption  in  favour  of  St. 
Luke's  statement  is  strengthened  by  the  consideration,  that  such  an 
event  as  the  taxing  of  Judaea  must  have  been  so  easily  ascertainable 
by  him. 

We  are,  however,  not  left  to  the  presumptive  reasoning  just  set 
forth.  That  the  Emperor  Augustus  made  registers  of  the  Roman 
Em])ire,  and  of  sulyect  and  tributary  states,  is  now  generally  ad- 
mitted. This  registration — for  the  purpose  of  future  taxation-; — 
would  also  embrace  Palestine.  Even  if  no  actual  order  to  that  elTect 
had  been  issued  during  the  lifetime  of  Herod,  we  can  understand  that 
he  would  deem  it  most  expedient,  both  on  account  of  his  relations  to 
the  Emperor,  and  in  view  of  the  probable  excitement  which  a  heathen 
Census  would  cause  in  Palestine,  to  take  steps  for  making  a  registra- 
tion, and  that  rather  according  to  the  Jewish  than  the  Roman  manner. 
This  Census,  then,  arranged  by  Augustus,  and  taken  by  Herod  in  his 
own  manner,  was,  according  to  St.  Luke,  '  first  [really]  carried  out 
when  Cyrenius  was  Governor  of  Syria,'  some  years  after  Herod's  death 
and  when  Judaea  had  become  a  Roman  province.  ^ 

We  are  now  prepared  to  follow  the  course  of  the  Gospel-narrative. 
In  consequence  of  'the  decree  of  Caesar  Augustus,'  Herod  directed  a 
general  registration  to  be  made  after  the  Jewish,  rather  than  the 
Roman,  nmnner.  Practically  the  two  would,  indeed,  in  this  instance, 
be  very  similar.  According  to  the  Roman  law,  all  country-people 
were  to  be  registered  in  their  '  own  city ' — meaning  thereby  the  town 
to  which  the  village  or  place,  where  they  were  born,  was  attached.     In 


])oints  of  view,  been  so  often  and  well 
stated — latterly  by  Wieseler,  Huschke, 
Zumpt,  and  Steinmeyer — and  on  tlie 
other  side  almost  ad  nauseam  by  ne.ijati  ve 
critics  of  every  school,  that  it  seems  un- 
necessary to  CO  asain  over  them.  The 
reader  will  find  the  whole  subject  stated 
by  Canon  ('<>()k.  whose  views  we  sub- 
stantially adopt,  in  the  'Sjteaker's  Com- 


mentary' (N.T.  i.  pp.  326-329).  The 
reasoninfi  of  Mommsen  (Res  gestae  D. 
Aug.  pp.  17.5,  176)  does  not  seem  to  me 
to  affect  the  view  taken  in  the  text. 

1  For  the  textual  explanation  we  again 
refer  to  Canon  Cook,  only  we  would 
mark,  with  Steinmeyer,  that  the  meaning 
of  the  exi)re,ssior>  kyEvEvo,  in  St.  Luke 
ii.  2.  is  determined  bv  the  similar  use  of 


IN   BETHLEHEM.  Ig3 

SO  doing,  the  'house  and  lineage  '  (the  tiomen  and  cognomen)  ofeaeh     chap. 
were  marked.'     According  to  the  Jewish  mode  of  registration,  the        vi 

people  would  have  been  enrolled  according  to  tribes  (r\''::'z),famUiefi  or   ^~ — < 

clans  (mnSw"::),  and  the  Iio/isc  of  their  fathers  fniZN'  n*2j.  But  as  ' 
the  ten  tribes  had  not  I'cturnod  to  Palestine,  this  could  only  take 
place  to  a  very  limited  extent,-'  while  it  would  be  easy  for  each  to  be 
registered  in  '  his  own  city.'-  In  the  case  of  Jose})!!  and  Mary,  vvliose 
descent  from  David  was  not  only  known,  but  where,  for  the  sake  of 
the  unborn  Messiah,  it  was  most  important  that  this  should  be  distinctly 
noted,  it  was  natural  that,  in  accordance  with  Jewish  law,  they 
should  have  gone  to  Bethlehem.  rerhajjs  also,  for  many  reasons 
which  will  readily  suggest  themselves,  Joseph  and  Mary  might  be 
glad  to  leave  Nazareth,  and  seek,  ifp()ssil)le,  a  home  in  Bethlehem. 
Indeed,  so  strong  was  this  feeling,  that  it  afterwards  recjuired  special 
Divine  direction  to  induce  Joseph  to  relinquish  this  chosen  place  of 
residence,  and  to  return  into  Galilee. ''     In  these  circumstances,  Marv,    ^st.  Matt. 

.  .  .  .  '  ■         11.  22 

now  the  'wife'  of  Joseph,  though  standing  to  him  only  m  the  actual 
relationship  of  '  betrothed,"'  would,  of  course,  accompany  her  husband  ^st.  Luke 
to  Bethlehem.  Irrespective  of  this,  every  feeling  and  hope  in  her 
must  have  prompted  such  a  course,  and  there  is  no  need  to  discuss 
whether  llonian  or  Jewish 'Census-usage  required  her  presence — a 
question  which,  if  put,  would  have  to  be  answered  in  the  negative. 

The  short  winter's  day  was  probably  closing  in,^  as  the  two  travel- 
lers from  Nazai'cth,  liringing  with  them  the  few  necessaries  of  a 
poor  Eastern  household,  nearcd  their  journey's  end.  If  we  think  of 
Jesus  as  the  Messiah  from  heaven,  the  surroundings  of  outward 
poverty,  so  far  from  detracting,  seem  most  congruous  to  His  Divine 
character.  Earthly  splendor  would  here  seem  like  tawdry  tinsel, 
and  the  utmost  simplicity  like  that  clothing  of  the  lilies,  which  far 
suri)assed  all  the  glory  of  Solomon's  court.  But  only  in  the  East 
would  the  most  absolute  sinqilicity  l)e  possible,  and  yet  neither  it, 
nor  the  poverty  from  which  it  sprang,  necessarily  imi)ly  even  the 
slightest  taint  of  social    inferiority.       The  way  had  been  long  and 

it.  in  Acts  xi.   28,  where  what  was  pre-  '  eiiie  Sache  der  Uniiionlichkeit.' 

tlictedissaidtoiiaveactually  taken  place  ■*  Tiiis,  ol  course,  is  only  a  conjtjclure; 

(iT'eVero)  atthe  time  of  CUuidius  Ca'sar.  but  I  call  it  •  probalilc,'   partly  because 

'  Comp.  IIitsr//k(',  Ueber  d.  z.  Zeit  d.  one  would  naturally  so  arrauiic  a.  journey 

C{eb.  .T.  C.  fjehalt.  Census  pp.   119,   120.  of  several  days,    to  nudve  its  sta,i;es  as 

Most  critics  have  written  very  confusedly  slow  and  easy  as   possible,   and  i)artly 

on  this  point.  from  the  circumstance,  that,  on  their  ar- 

-  The  reader  will  now  be  able  to  ap-  rival,   they  found  the  khan  full,  which 

predate  the  value  of  Keiin's  objections  would  scarcely  have  been  the  case  had 

ajjainst  such  a  Census,  as  involving;  a  they   reached   Bethlehem    early   in    the 

'  wahre  Volkswanderung '  (!),  and  being  day. 


184  FROM    J5ETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

HOOK  weary — at  the  very  least,  three  days' journoy,  whatever  route  had  been 
II          taken  Iroiii  Galih^e.     Most  i)r(^l)ahly  it  woidd  be  that  so  eoniiuonly 

'^ — .  followed,  Iroiii  a  desire  to  avoid  Samaria,   aloii.u'  the  eastern  l)anks 

of  the  Jordan,  and  l)y  the  fords  of  Jericho.'  Althou,n-h  passing 
through  one  of  the  warmest  parts  of  the  country,  the  season  of  the 
year  must,  even  in  most  favorable  eireumstanees,  have  greatly 
increased  tlie  ditticulties  of  such  a  journey.  A  sense  of  rest  and 
peace  must,  almost  unconsciously,  have  crept  over  the  travellers  when 
at  last  they  reached  the  rich  tields  that  surrounded  the  ancient 
'House  of  Bread,"  and,  i)assing  through  the  valley  which,  like  an 
amphitheatre,  sweeps  up  to  the  twain  heights  along  which  Bethlehem 
stretches  (2,704  feet  a])()ve  the  sea),  ascended  through  the  terraced 
vineyards  and  gai-dens.  Winter  tliough  it  was,  the  green  and  silvei-y 
foliage  of  the  olive  might,  even  at  that  season,  mingle  with  the  pale 
pink  of  the  almond — nature's  '  early  waker '  ^ — and  with  the  darker 
coloring  of  the  ojjening  peach-buds.  The  chaste  beauty  and  sweet 
quiet  of  the  place  would  I'ccall  memories  of  Boaz,  of  Jesse,  and  of 
David.  All  the  more  would  such  thoughts  suggest  themselves,  from 
the  contrast  between  the  past  and  the  present.  For,  as  the  travellers 
reached  the  heights  of  Bethlehem,  and,  indeed,  long  before,  the 
most  prominent  object  in  view  must  have  been  the  great  castle  which 
Herod  had  l)uilt,  and  called  after  his  own  name.  Perched  on  the 
highest    hill    south-east   of  Bethlehem,    it   was,    at   the    same    time 

"^bs.  Ant.      magnificent   palace,    strongest   fortress,    and    almost  'courtier-city.  =■ 

xiv.  13.  9;  .'^  . 

XV.  9. 4;        With    a   sense   of  relief  the   travellers    would    turn    from   this,    to 

War  1   13 

3;  21,  io  mark  the  undulating  outlines  of  the  highland  wilderness  of  Judaea, 
till  the  horizon  was  bounded  by  the  mountain-ridges  of  Tekoa. 
Through  the  break  of  the  hills  eastward  the  heavy  UKjlten  surface 
of  the  Sea  of  Judgment  would  ai)pear  in  view;  westward  wound 
the  road  to  Hebron;  behind  them  lay  the  valleys  and  hills  which 
separated  Bethlehem  from  Jerusalem,  and  concealed  the  Holy  City. 

But  for  the  present  such  thoughts  would  give  way  to  the  pressing 
necessity  of  finding  shelter  and  rest.  The  little  town  of  Bethlehem 
was  crowded  with  those  who  had  come  from  all  the  outlying  district 
to  register  their  names.  Even  if  the  strangers  from  ftir-off  Galilee 
had  been  personally  acquainted  with  any  one  in  Bethlehem,  who 
could  have  shown  them   hospitality,    they  would   have  found  every 

'  Comj).  the  account  of  the  roads,  inns,  -  The  almond  is  called,    in    Hebrew, 

<tc.  in  the  'History  of  tiie.Jewisli  Nation,'  -;->'2;,  'the  waker,'  from  the  word  'to 
p.  275;   and  the  cha])ter  on   Travellinic      ,  i     >     t*   •  •♦  -i  i      +i,  * 

in  Palestine,'  in  'Sketches  of  .Tewi.sh  ^^«  ^^'ff/  ^^  !'  quite  possible,  that 
Social  Life  in  the  Davs  of  Clwi.st.'  '"''^Y  "^  the  earliest  spnnir  .flowers  al- 

ready  made  tlie  landscape  briijht. 


St.Luke  i. 


THE   NATIVITY.  1^5 

house  fully  occupied.     The  very  inn  was  tilled,  and  the  only  availahlc      ciiap. 
space  was,  where  ordinarily  the  cattle  were  stabled.'     Bearing  in  tnind         vi 

the  simple  habits  of  the  East,  this  scarcely  implies,  what  it  would    — • ' 

in  the  West;  and  perhaps  the  seclusion  and  privacy  from  the  noisy, 
chattci'inii:  crowd,  which  thronged  the  khan,  would  l)e  all  the  more 
welcome.  Scanty  as  these  particulars  are,  even  thus  much  is 
gathered  ratlier  by  inference  than  from  the  narrative  itself.  Thus 
early  in  this  history  does  the  absence  of  details,  which  painfully 
increases  as  we  proceed,  remind  us,  that  the  Gospels  were  not 
intended  to  furnish  a  biography  of  Jesus,  nor  even  the  materials  for 
it;  but  had  only  this  twofold  object:  that  those  who  read  them 
'  might  believe  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,'  and  that 
believing  they  'might  have  life  through  His  Name.'''  The  Christian  "St.  John 
heart  and  imagination,  indeed,  long  to  be  able  to  localise  the  scene  of  comp." 
such  surpassing  importance,  and  linger  with  fond  reverence  over  that 
Cave,  which  is  now  covered  by  Hhe  Church  of  the  Nativity.'  It  may 
be — nay,  it  seems  likely — that  this,  to  which  the  most  venerable 
tradition  points,  was  the  sacred  spot  of  the  world's  greatest  event.* 
Butcertainty  we  have  not.  It  is  better,  that  it  should  be  so.  As  to 
all  that  passed  in  the  seclusion  of  that  'stable' — the  circumstances 
of  the  'Nativity,'  even  its  exact  time  after  the  arrival  of  Mary  (brief 
as  it  must'have  been) — the  Gospel-narrative  is  silent.  This  only  is 
told,  that  then  and  there  the  Virgin-Mother  '  brought  forth  her  first- 
born Son,  and  wrapped  Him  in  swaddling  clothes,  and  laid  Him  in  a 
manger. '  Beyond  this  announcement  of  the  bare  fact,  Holy  Scripture, 
with  indescribable  appropriateness  and  delicacy,  draws  a  veil  over 
that  most  sacred  mystery.  Two  impressions  only  are  left  on  the 
mind:  that  of  utmost  earthly  humility,  in  the  surrounding  circum- 

'  Dr.   (ietkie  indeed   'feels  sure'  tliat  term  occurs  in  Aniuiaic  form,   in   tJab- 

the  KaraXvua  wtis   not  an  inn,  but  a  binic  writings,  as  n*"i"«  or '':i-r=('rj-' 
guest-chamber,  because  the  word  is  used  '  **  •  '  '■  ~ 

in  that  sense  in  St.  Mark  xiv.  U,  Lulce  xxii.  KoczaXvfia,  an  inn.  Dditzsch,  in  his  He- 

11.     But  this  inference  is  critically  un-  brew  N.T.,  uses  the  more  common  «V?):- 

tenable.     The  Greek  word  is  of  very  wide  Bazaars  and  markets  were  also  held  in 

application,    and   means  (as  Schleusner  those  hostelries;  animals  killed,  and  meat 

puts  it)  'omnis  locus  quieti  aptus.'  In  the  sold  there;  also  wine  and  cider;   so  that 

LXX.  K-crrd/lt;//(nr  is  theeciuivaleut  of  not  they  were  a  much  more  public  place  of 

less  than ./7?v  Hebrew  words,  whicii  have  resort  than  might  at  first  be  imagined, 

widely  difterent  meanings.     In  the  LXX.  Comp.  Herzfehl.  Handelsgesch.  \).  :525. 
rendering  of  Ex.  iv.  2i  it  is  used  for  the  -  Perhaps  the  best  anlheiiticated  of  all 

Hebrew    "-j^j,    which    certainly  cannot  local  traditions  is  that  whicl)  fixes  on  this 

mean  a  guest-chamber,  but  an  inn.     No  c>ive  "s  tiu>  i)!ace  of  the  Nativity      The 

one  could  imagine  that,  if  private  hospi-  evidence  in  its  favour  is  well  given  l)y  Dr. 

tality  had  been  extended  to  tiie  Yirnin-  Varmr  in  his    •  Lite   of  Ciirist.      Dean 

Mother,  she  would  hav(>  lieen  left  in  such  Stanley,  however,  and  others,  have  ques- 

circumstances   in    a  stable.     The   same  tioned  it, 


186 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK      stances;  and  that   of  iii\\ar(l   rttness,  in  the   contrast   suggested  by 
II         them.      Instinctively,  re\'ercntly,  we  feel  that  it  is  well  it  should  have 

^— ^,^-'  been  so.  It  best  befits  the  birth  of  the  Christ — if  He  be  what  the 
New  Testament  declares  Him. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  circumstances  just  noted  afford  the 
strongest  indirect  evidence  of  the  truth  of  this  narrative.  For,  if  it 
were  the  outcome  of  Jewish  imagination,  where  is  the  basis  for  it  in 
contemporary  expectation  ?  Would  Jewish  legend  have  ever  presented 
its  Messiah  as  born  in  a  stable,  to  which  chance  circumstances  had 
consigned  His  Mother  ?  The  Avhole  current  of  Jewish  opinion  would 
run  in  the  contrary  direction.  The  opponents  of  the  authenticity  of 
this  narrative  are  bound  to  face  this.  Further,  it  may  safely  be 
asserted,  that  no  Apocryphal  or  legendary  narrative  of  such  a 
(legendary)  event  would  have  been  characterised  by  such  scantiness, 
or  rather  absence,  of  details.  F(jr,  the  two  essential  features,  alike 
of  legend  and  of  tradition,  are,  that  they  ever  seek  to  surround  their 
heroes  with  a  halo  of  glory,  and  that  they  attempt  to  supply  details, 
which  are  otherwise  wanting.  And  in  both  these  respects  a  more 
sharply-marked  contrast  could  scarcely  be  presented,  than  in  the 
Gospel-narrative. 

But  as  we  pass  from  the  sacred  gloom  of  the  cave  out  into  the 
night,  its  sky  all  aglow  with  starry  brightness,  its  loneliness  is 
peopled,  and  its  silence  made  vocal  from  heaven.  There  is  nothing 
now  to  conceal,  but  much  to  reveal,  though  the  manner  of  it  would 
seem  strangely  incongruous  to  Jewish  thinking.  And  yet  Jewish 
tradition  may  here  prove  both  illustrative  and  helpful.  That  the 
Messiah  was  to  be  born  in  Bethlehem,^  was  a  settled  conviction. 
Equally  so  was  the  belief,  that  He  was  to  be  revealed  from  Migdal 

^  Targum     Ecler,  '  the  tower  of  the  flock. ' "  This  Migdal  Eder  was  7iot  the  watch- 

Pseudo-  '  •111. 

jon.onGen.  towcr  for  the  Ordinary  flocks  which  pastured  on  the  barren  sheep- 
ground  beyond  Bethlehem,  but  lay  close  to  the  town,  on  the  road  to 

bshek.  vii.  Jerusalem.  A  passage  in  the  Mishnah  ''  leads  to  the  conclusion,  that 
the  flocks,  which  pastured  there,  were  destined  for  Temple-sacrifices,^ 
and,  accordingly,  that  the  shepherds,  who  watched  over  them,  were 


1  In  the  curious  story  of  Ilis  l)ii'tli,  re- 
lated hi  the  .Jer.  Talmud  (Bit.  ii.  ?>).  He 
is  said  to  iiave  been  born  in  '  the  royiii 
castle  of  Bethlehem;'  while  in  the  paral- 
lel narrative  in  the  Midr.  on  Lament,  i. 
16,  ed.  W.  p.  64  b)  the  somewhat  myste- 
rious expression  is  us(h1  j^;^-,"  .n**^^- 
But  we  mu.st  keep  in  view  the  Ifabbinic 
statement  that,    even   if  a    castle   falls 


down,  it  is  still  called  a  castle  (Valkut, 
vol.  ii.  p.  (iO  A). 

-  In  fact  the  Mishnah  (Baba  K.  vii.  7) 
expressly  forbids  the  keopins:  of  flocks 
throu<i'hont  the  land  of  Israel,  excei>t  in 
the  wildernesses — and  the  only  flocks 
otherwise  kept,  would  be  those  for  the 
Temple-services  (Baba  K.  80  a). 


CHHISTMAS-NIGHT    IN    THE    I'LAIXS    OF    I'.KTHLKHKM. 


18Y 


not  ordinary  shepherds.  The  latter  were  under  the  ban  of  Ral)l)inism, ' 
on  account  of  their  necessary  isohition  from  religious  ordinances,  and 
their  manner  of  life,  which  rcndei-ed  strict  legal  ol)servance  unlikely, 
if  not  absolutely  impossible.  The  same  Mishnic  passage  also  leads  us 
to  infer,  that  these  flocks  lay  out  all  the  year  rou ml,  since  they  are  spoken 
of  as  in  the  fields  thirty  days  before  the  l'ass(jver — that  is,  in  the  month 
of  February,  when  in  Palestine  the  average  rainfall  is  nearly  greatest.* 
Thus,  Jewish  tradition  in  some  dim  manner  aj^prehended  the  first 
revelation  of  the  Messiah  from  that  3Iigdal  E(lei\  where  shepherds 
watched  the  Temple-flocks  all  the  year  round.  Of  the  deep  symbolic 
significance  of  such  a  coincidence,  it  is  needless  to  speak. 

It  was,  then,  on  that  'wintry  night'  of  the  25th  of  December,* 
that  shepherds  watched  the  flocks  destined  for  sacrificial  services,  in 
the  very  place  consecrated  by  tradition  as  that  where  the  Messiah  was 
to  be  first  revealed.  Of  a  sadden  came  the  long-delayed,  unthought- 
of  announcement.  Heaven  and  earth  seemed  to  mingle,  as  suddenly 
an  Angel  stood  before  their  dazzled  eyes,  while  the  outstreaming 
glory  of  the  Lord  seemed  to  enwrap  them,  as  in  a  mantle  of  light.* 


CHAP. 
VI 


1  This  disposes  of  an  inaiit  (luotation 
(from  Delitzscli)  by  Dr.  Geikie.  No  one 
could  inia,i!,iiie,  that  the  Tulmudic  pas- 
sages in  (juestiun  could  apply  to  such 
shepherds  as  these. 

■^  The  mean  of  22  seasons  in  .Jerusalem 
amounted  to  4-718  inches  in  December, 
5-479  in  January,  and  5-207  in  February 
(see  a  very  interesting  paper  by  Dr. 
ChapHii  in  Quart.  Stat,  of  Pal.  Explor. 
Fund,  January,  1883).  For  1876-77  we 
have  these  startling  figures:  mean  for 
December,  -490;  for  January,  1-595;  for 
February,  8-750 — and,  similarly,  in  other 
years.  And  so  we  read:  'Good  the  year 
in  whicli  Tebheth  (December)  is  without 
rain '  (Taau.  6  h).  Tiiose  who  have  copied 
Lightfoot's  quotations  about  the  flocks 
not  lying  out  during  the  winter  months 
ought,  at  least,  to  have  known  that  the 
reference  in  the  Talmudic  passages  is 
expresiily  to  the  flocks  which  pastured 

in     '  the    wilderness '    (.ni^^^"^  p  ibN*)- 

But  even  so,  the  statement,  as  so  many 
others  of  the  kind,  is  not  accurate.  For, 
in  the  Talmud  two  ojiinions  are  exjjressed. 
According  to  one,  the  '  Midbariyoth,"  or 
'animals  of  the  wilderness,'  aie  those 
which  go  to  the  open  at  the  Passover- 
time,  and  returu  at  the  first  rains  (about 
November);  while,  on  the  other  hand. 
Rabbi  maintains,  and,  as  it  seems,  more 
authoritatively,  that  the  wilder ness-flocl-a 


remain  in  the  open  alike  in  the  hottest 
days  and  in  the  rainy  season — i.e.  all  the 
year  round  (Bezah  40  a).  Comp.  also 
Tosephta  Bezah  iv.  6.  A  somewhat  dif- 
ferent explanation  is  given  in  Jer.  Bezah 
6.3  b. 

^  There  is  no  adequate  reason  for  ques- 
tioning the  historical  accuracy  of  this 
date.  The  objections  generally  made 
rest  on  grounds,  which  seem  to  me  his- 
torically untenable.  The  subject  has  been 
fully  discussed  in  an  article  by  Cas.^el  in 
Herzog's  Real.  Ency.  xvii.  pp.  588-594. 
But  a  curious  piece  of  evidence  comes  to 
us  from  a  Jewish  source.  In  the  addition 
to  the  Megillath  Taanith  (ed.  Warsh.  p. 
20  a),  the  9th  Teliheth  is  marked  as  a  fast 
day,  and  it  is  added,  that  the  reason  for 
this  is  not  stated.  Now,  Jewish  chron- 
ologists  have  fixed  on  tliat  day  as  that 
of  Christ's  birth,  and  it  is  remarkable 
that,  between  the  years  500  and  816  a.d. 
the  25th  of  December  fell  no  less  than 
twelve  times  on  the  9th  Teblietli.  If 
the  9th  Tebheth,  or  25th  December,  was 
regarded  as  the  birthday  of  Chi'ist,  we 
can  understand  the  concealment  about 
it.  Comp.  Zuiiz,  Ritus  d.  Synag.  (4ottesd. 
p.  126. 

*  In  illustration  we  may  here  quote 
Shem.  R.  2  (ed.  W.  vol.  ii.  ]).  s  a),  where 
it  is  said  tliat,  wherever  ^lichael  appears, 
there  also  is  the  glory  of  the  Shekhinah. 
In  the  same  section  we  read,  in  reference 


iSS  FROM   BETHLEHEM    TO   JORDAN. 

IJOOK      Sin-])ri80,  :iwe,  fear  would  l)e  hushed  into  cahn  and  expectancy,  as 
II  Ironi  the  Angel  they  heard,  that  what  they  saw  bo(UMl  not  jiid<:;nient. 

— ^' '   but  ushered  in  to  waiting  Israel  the  great  joy  of  those  good  tidings 

which  he  brought:  that  the  long-promised  Saviour,  Messiah,  Lord, 
was  born  in  the  City  of  David,  and  that  they  themselves  might  go 
and  see,  and  recognize  Him  by  the  humbleness  of  the  circumstances 
surrounding  His  Nativity. 

It  was,  as  if  attendant  angels  had  only  waited  the  signal.  As, 
when  the  sacrifice  was  laid  on  the  altar,  the  Temple-mnsic  burst  forth 
in  three  sections,  each  marked  by  the  blast  of  the  priests'  silver 
ti-umjicts,  as  if  each  Psalm  wore  to  be  a  Tris-Hagion; '  so,  when  the 
Herald-Angel  had  spoken,  a  multitude  of  heaven's  host-  stood  fortli 
to  hymn  the  good  tidings  he  had  brought.  What  they  sang  was  but 
the  reflex  of  what  had  been  announced.  It  told  in  the  language  of 
praise  the  character,  the  meaning,  the  result,  of  what  had  taken  place. 
Heaven  took  up  the  strain  of  'glory';  earth  echoed  it  as  'peace';  it 
fell  on  the  ears  and  hearts  of  men  as  'good  i)leasure': 

(llory  to  God  in  the  highest — 
And  upon  earth  peace — 
Among  men  good  pleasure !  * 

Only  once  before  had  the  words  of  the  Angels'  hymn  fallen  upon  mortal's 
ears,  when,  to  Isaiah's  rapt  vision.  Heaven's  high  Temple  had  opened, 
and.  the  glory  of  Jehovah  swept  its  courts,  almost  breaking  down  the 
trembling  posts  that  bore  its  boundary  gates.  Now  the  same  glory  en- 
\NTapt  the  shepherds  on  Bethlehem's  plains.     Then  the  Angels'  hymn 

to  the  appearance  in  the  bush,  that,  '  at  maintains,  that  tlie  birth  of  ]\Ioses  re- 
lirst  only  one  Anijel  came.'  who  stood  in  mained  unknown  for  tln-ee  months,  be- 
the  burning  bush,  and  after  that  the  Shek-  cause  he  was  a  child  of  seven  months. 
Mnah   came,  and  spoke  to  Moses  from  There  are  other  legends  aljout  the  sinless- 
out  the  bush.     (It  is  a  curious  illustra-  ness  of  Moses'  father,  and  the  maiden- 
tion  of  Acts  ix.  7,  that  Moses  alone  is  hood  of  his  mother  (at  103  years),  which 
said  in  .Jewish  tradition  to  have  seen  the  remind  us  of  Christian  traditions, 
vision,  but  not  the  men  who  were  with  •  According   to    tradition,    the    three 
him.)     Wetstein  gives  an  erroneous  re-  Idasts  symbolically  proclaimed  the  king- 
ference  to  a  Talmudic  statement,  to  the  ilom  of  God,  the  in-ovidence  of  God,  and 
eflfect  that,  at  the  l)irth   of  Moses,  the  the  final  judgment, 
room  was    tilled   with    heavenly    light.         -  Curiously  enough,  the  word  crrpa- 
The statement  really  occurs  ni  Hotah  \2  a;  ridifi  Hebraised  in  the  same  connection 
Shem.  R.  1;  Yalkut  i.  51  c     This  must  .-.^^  •..„  v.«--,..rx-     See  Yalkut  on  Ps. 
be  the  foundation  of  the  Cliristian   leg-        ,      /  '  i    ••   .    T,>-         i  ^  .- n     ^■^^^  \ 
,,,.,,                .        1  •  1  rii    •  4  xlv.  (vol.  u.  p.  lOo  a,  about  the  middle  . 
end,  that  the  cave,  in  which  Clirist  was         •<  t  u  i,     •♦  I-     i         ♦  •      i   *i 
X,                   4-u    1      -n    1           ]     1-  1  +             I  have   unhesitatingly  retained  the 
born,    was    1  led   with    heavenlv   light.            ,.         f  +i      ^     ^  ,  m 
rj-    -,     .      n      T>  v^-  1    i^„„    1     K.   +^1  reading  of  the  fer^H.s  rece/;/?/.s.     The  ar- 
Sinii  ariv,  the  Romish  legend  about  the                 t.    ■     -,.    t                     ax  ■     .,        .. 
-fT-     ■    Vfl»i           t  f.  1-.      n                   f  iruments  m  its  favor  are  sufncient  y  set 
Virgin-Mother  not   fee   ng  the  pangs  of  7   *i  i     r<          r^     i  ■    i  •    ,  n     •     r^r 
mat^rnitv   is   derived   from   the   Jewish  forth  by  Canon  Cook  in  his  '  Revised  Ver- 
legend,  which  asserts  the  same  of  the  Ji'"  «*  ^^^  ^"'^^  Three  Gospels,'  pp.  27- 
mother  of  Moses.     The  same  authority  "    " 


ADOKATIOX    OF   THK   SHEPHERDS.  189 

had  lioraldcd  the   iiiiiioiiiiccnicut  of  tlic    Kiiiiidoin   coniino:;  now  that     CHAP. 
of  tlio  Kin<i- coiuc.      Tlicu   it   had  l)e('ii  the  7V/.s-//r/r//o//  ol"  prophetic         VI 
anticipation:  nou'  tliat  of  Evani^-clic  fiiltihncnt.  ^^.m^^-^m^ 

Tlic  livnin  liad  ccayed;  the  liglit  faded  out  of  tlio  sky;  and  the 
shepherds  were  alone.  But  the  Anii-elic  message  remained  with  them; 
and  the  sign,  which  was  to  gui(h'  tlicni  to  the  Infant  Christ,  lighted 
their  rapid  way  up  the  terraced  height  to  where,  at  tlu;  entering  of 
Bethlehem,  the  lamp  swinging  over  the  hosteh-y  directed  them  to  the 
strangers  of  the  house  of  David,  wlu)  had  come  from  Nazareth. 
Though  it  seems  as  if,  in  the  hour  of  her  utmost  need,  the  Virgin- 
Mother  had  not  ])eeu  ministered  to  by  h)ving  hands,'  yet  what  had 
happened  in  the  stable  must  soon  have  beeome  known  in  the  Khan. 
Perhaps  friendly  women  were  still  passing  to  and  fro  on  errands  of 
mercy,  when  the  shei)herds  readied  the  '  stable."  -  There  they  Ibund, 
perliaps  not  wliat  they  had  exiiected,  but  as  they  had  been  told.  The 
iioly  group  only  consisted  of  the  hunil)le  Virgin-Mother,  the  lowly 
carpenter  of  Nazareth,  and  the  Babe  laid  in  the  manger.  What 
further  passed  we  know  not,  save  that,  having  seen  it  for  themselves, 
the  shepherds  told  what  had  been  spoken  to  them  al)oiit  this  Child,  to 
all  around'' — in  the  'stable,'  in  the  tields,  probably  also  in  the  Temple, 
to  which  they  would  liring  their  tioeks,  thereby  preparing  the  minds 
of  a  Simeon,  of  an  Anna,  and  of  all  them  that  looked  for  salvation  in 
Israel.* 

And  now  the  hush  of  wondering  expectancy  fell  once  more  on  all, 
who  heard  what  was  told  by  the  shepherds — this  time  not  only  in  the 
hill-country  of  JuiUra,  but  within  the  wider  circle  that  embraced 
Bethlehem  and  the  Holy  City.  And  yet  it  seemed  all  so  sudden,  so 
strange.  That  on  such  slender  thread,  as  the  feeble  throb  of  an 
Infant-life,  the  salvation  of  the  worhl  should  hang — and  no  sjx'cial 
care  watch  over  its  safety,  no  better  shelter  l)e  provided  it  than  a 
'  stable,'  no  other  cradle  than  a  manger!  And  still  it  is  e\-er  so.  On 
what  slender  thread  has  the  continued  life  of  the  Church  often  seemed 
to  hang;   on  what  feeble  throlilnng  that  of  evei-y  child  of  (Jod — with 

1  This  appears  to  me   implied  in  tlie  in    lictlilclu'in.   to    iiKniire   whether   any 

emphatic    statement,   that   Mary — as    I  child  had  been  horn  anionsi'  their  quests, 
.ijather,  herself — '  wrapped  Him  in  swad-  ■'  Tlie  term  6iay  yijjfii'l,a)  inii)lies  more 

dling  clothes' (St.  Luke  ii.  7,  12).  Othei'-  than   to    -make  known  abroail.'     Wahl 

wise  the  remark  would   seem    needless  \vw\vy!^\{  ■)(Hr<>citroqiien(irr(>':'>v\\\m^- 

and  meaningless.  ner:  •  <linil</<)  aJu/Kid  t/f  uJiis  //n/ofcscaf, 

^  It  seems  diflficult  to  understand  how,  sj)/ir;/o  rKinorfin.' 
on  Dr.   Geikie's   theory,   the   shepherds  '  Tliis  may   have    jJrepartMl    not  only 

could    have   found    the    Infant-Saviour.  tliose  who  weicointMl   .Icsus  on   His  pre- 

since,  manifestly,  they  could  not  during  mentation  in  tlie  Temple,  but  tilled  many 

that  night  have  roused  every  household  others  with  expectiincy. 


190 


1-M;()M    ]5I-:TIiLKlllvM    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK      no  \isil)l('  (Hit  ward  iiicaiis  to  ward  off  daii^'cr,  uo  lioiue  of  eoinfort,  no 
II         ie?;t  of  case.       IJiit,    •  Lo,   childicii    aiv  Je'hovali's    heritagel" — and: 
-^.^^^    "80  givcth  Jlc  to  His  Ix'loved  in  his  sleei)!'' 


'  The  fdllow  iim  rciiuu'kuble  extriict 
from  llie  Jenisaleiii  Tai'ijmii  011  Ex.  xii. 
42  nuiy  interest  the  reader: — 

•It  is  a  iiiii'ht  to  be  oljserveil  and  ex- 
alted. .  .  .  Four  iiiu'lits  are  tliere  written 
ill  the  Booiv  of  Memorial.  Niglit  tir^t : 
when  the  Meinra  of  Jehovah  was  revealed 
upon  the  world  for  its  creation;  when 
the  world  was  without  form  and  void, 
and  darkness  was  spread  upon  the  face 
of  the  deep,  and  the  Menira  of  Jehovah 
illuininated  and  made  it  li^ht;  and  He 
called  it  the  tirst  night.  Niiz:ht  second: 
when  the  Memra  of  Jehovah  was  revealed 
unto  Abraham  between  the  divided 
pieces;  when  Abraham  was  a  hundred 
years,  and  Sarah  was  ninety  years,  and  to 
confirm  thereby  that  which  the  Scripture 
saith. — Alirahain  a  hundred  years,  can  he 
bejret  ?  and  Sarah,  ninety  years  old,  can 
she  bear  ?  Was  not  our  father  Isaac 
thirty-seven  years  old  at  the  time  he  was 
offered  u|  ion  the  altar".'  Then  the  heavens 
were  bowed  down  and  broutilit  low,  and 


Isaac  .saw  their  foundations,  ami  his  eyes 
were  blinded  owin<!;  to  that  sight:  and 
He  called  it  the  second  night.  The  third 
night:  when  the  Memra  of  Jehovah  was 
revealeil  upon  the  Egyptians,  at  tile 
dividing  of  the  night:  His  right  hand 
slew  the  first-born  of  the  Egyptians,  and 
His  right  hand  spared  the  first-born  of 
Israel;  to  fulfil  what  the  Scripture  hatii 
said.  Israel  is  My  first-born  well-beloved 
.son.  And  He  called  it  the  third  night. 
Night  the  fourth ;  when  the  end  of  the 
world  will  be  accomplished,  that  it  might 
be  dissolved,  the  bands  of  wickedness 
destroyeil.  and  the  iron  yoke  broken. 
Moses  came  forth  from  the  midst  of  the 
desert,  and  the  King  Messiah  from  the 
midst  of  Rome.  This  one  shall  lead  at 
the  head  of  a  Cloud,  and  that  one  shall 
lead  at  the  head  of  a  Cloud;  and  the 
Memra  of  Jehovah  will  lead  between 
both,  and  they  two  shall  come  as  one 
[('ni'Ii(iilit).'  (For  explan.  .see  vol.  ii. 
p.  100.  note.) 


TllK    V lUG I N-MUTllEK    PONDERS    IT    L\    IIKK.   llKAliT.  191 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE     PinilFICATIOX     OK     TlIK     Vll!(;i.\     AND     THE     I'HESENTATION 
IX     THE     TEMPLE. 

(Si.   I. like  ii.  21-;iS.) 

Foremost  auiougst  those  who.  \voii(h'riii*i\  had   heard  what  the  shcji-      CHAP, 
liei'ds  tohl,  wa;^  i^he  whom  most  it  eoueeriied,  who  hiid  it    iij)  deepest         VII 

in  her  lieart.  and  l)rou*2:ht  to  it  treasured  stores  of  memory.      It  was   ' -.^^ 

tlie  Mother  of  Jesus.  These  nuiny  months,  all  eonneete*!  witli  this 
Child  eould  never  have  been  far  away  trom  her  thou<i:lits.  And  now 
that  He  was  hers,  yet  not  hers — belon,ii:od,  yet'did  not  seem  to  belong, 
to  her — lie  would  be  the  more  dear  to  her  Mother-heart  tor  what 
made  Him  so  near,  and  yet  parted  Him  so  far  from  liei-.  And  upon 
all  His  history  seenu'd  to  lie  sueh  wondrous  li.iilit.  timt  slie  could 
only  see  the  path  behind,  so  far  as  she  luul  trodden  it:  while  upon 
that  on  which  she  was  to  move,  was  sucli  dazzlinii'  briuhtness,  that 
she  could  scarce  look  upon  the  i)resent,  and  dared  not  ,ua/.e  towards 
tlie  future. 

At  tlie  very  outset  of  this  history,  and  inereasin<i'ly  in  its  course, 
the  ({uestion  meets  us,  how.  if  tlie  Auii-elic  message  to  the  Virgin 
was  a  I'eality,  and  hei-  motheiiiood  so  supernatural,  she  could  liave 
been  api)arently  so  ignorant  of  what  was  to  come — nay,  so  often  have 
even  misunderstood  if/  Strange,  that  she  should  have  -pondered 
in  her  heai't  "  the  shepherd's  account:  stranger,  tiiat  afterwards  she 
should  ha\'e  wondered  at  His  lingering  in  the  Tenijjle  among  Israel's 
teaclu'rs:  strangest,  that,  at  the  very  tirst  of  His  miracles,  a  mother'.s 
liind  pride  sliould  ha\('  so  harshly  broken  in  u])on  the  I)i\ine  melody 
of  His  work,  by  striking  a  keynote  so  dift'erent  from  that,  to  which 
His  life  had  been  set:  or  that  afterwards,  in  the  height  of  his  activity, 
loving  fears,  if  not  doubts,  should  have  ])rom])te(l  her  to  iiiten-upt, 
what  evidently  she  had  not  as  yet  comprehended  in  the  fulness  of  its 
nu'aning.  Might  we  not  rather  have  expected,  that  the  Virgin- 
Mother  from  the  incejition  of  this  Child's  life  would  lia\-e  under- 
stood, that  He  was  truly  the  Son  of  (lody  The  (piestion,  like  so 
many  others,  requires  only  to  be  clearly  stated,  to  find  its  emphatic 
answer.      For.  had  it  been  so.  His  historv.  His  human  life,  of  which 


J92  ¥]um  bethi.p:iiem  to  .iokdan. 

BOOK      every  step  is  ol'  such  intiiiitc  iiii[)()i-tan('('  to  luaiikind,  would  iu)t  have 
II  l)een  possible.     Apart  IVoui  all  thoughts  (jt  the  deeper  necessity,  both 

^— — -r'-^  as  regarded  His  Mission  and  the  salvation  of  the  world,  of  a  true 
human  develojjnient  ofgradual  consciousness  and  personal  life,  Christ 
could  not,  in  any  true  sense,  have  been  subject  to  His  Parents,  if 
they  had  fully  understood  that  He  was  Divine;  nor  could  He,  in 
that  case,  have  been  watched,  as  He  -grew  in  wisdom  and  in  fav<»ui- 
with  God  and  men."  Such  knowledge  would  have  broken  the 
bond  of  His  Humanity  to  ours,  by  severing  that  which  bound  Him  as 
a  child  to  His  mother.  We  could  not  have  become  His  brethren,  iuid 
He  not  been  truly  the  Virgin's  Son.  The  mystery  of  the  Incarnation 
would  have  been  needless  and  fruitless,  had  His  hunmnity  not  been 
subject  to  all  its  right  and  ordinary  conditions.  And,  applying  the 
same  principle  more  widely,  wo  can  thus,  in  some  measure,  under- 
stand why  the  mystery  of  His  Divinity  had  to  be  kept  while  He 
was  on  earth.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  the  thought  of  His  Divinity 
Avould  have  proved  so  all-absorbing,  as  to  render  impossible  that  of 
His  Humanity,  with  all  its  lessons.  The  Son  of  Go*!  Most  Higli. 
AVhom  they  worsliipi)e(l.  could  never  have  been  the  loving  Man,  with 
Whom  they  could  hold  such  close  converse.  The  bond  which  bound 
the  .Master  to  His  discii)les — the  Son  of  Man  to  humanity — would 
have  been  dissolved;  His  teaching  as  a  Man,  the  Incarnation,  and 
the  Tabernacling  among  men,  in  i)lace  of  the  former  Old  Testament 
Revelation  from  heaven,  would  hav(!  become  wholly  impossible.  In 
short,  one,  and  that  the  distinctive  New  Testament,  element  in  our 
salvation  would  have  been  taken  away.  At  the  beginning  of  His  life 
He  would  have,  anticipated  the  lessons  of  its  end — nay,  not  those  of 
His  Death  only,  l)ut  of  His  Resurrection  and  Ascension,  and  of  the 
coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 

In  all  this  we  have  only  been  taking  the  sulyective,  not  the  objec- 
tive, view  ol  the  (}uestion;  considered  the  earthward,  not  the  heaven- 
ward, aspect  of  His  life.  The  latter,  though  very  real,  lies  beyond  oui- 
present  luu-izon.  Not  so  the  (juestion  as  to  the  development  of  the 
A^rgin-Mothers  spiritual  knowledge.  Assuming  her  to  have  occupied, 
in  the  fullest  sense,  the  standpoint  of  .Jewish  Messianic  expectancy, 
and  renuMubei'ing,  also,  that  she  was  so  -highly  favoured'  of  God, 
still,  then;  was  not  as  yet  anything,  noi-  could  there  be  for  many 
years,  to  lead  her  beyond  what  might  be  called  the  utmost  height  of 
Jewish  belief.  On  tlu'  conti'ary.  theic  was  much  connected  with  His 
true  Humanity  to  keep  her  i)ack.  For  narrow  as,  to  our  retrospec- 
tive thinking,  the  boundary-lhie  seems  between  .Jewish  belief  and  that 


EACH   EVKNT   A   FRESH   SURPRISE   T(J   THE    VH{GIN.  I93 

in  tlic  liypustatic  uiii(Mi  ol'  the  two  Natures,  the  i)a,ssa<>,('  Iroin  the     CHAP, 
one  to  the  other  represented  such  tremendous  mental  revohition,  as        vn 
to   imply   direct   Divine   teaching.'     An    illusti-ative   instance    will  ^— ^y^— 
pi-ove  this  better  than  argument.     We  read,  in  a  commentary  on  the  i'^icor.  xii. 
opening  words  of  Gen.  xv.  IS/' that  when  God  made  the  covenant  1. Ber.  r. it, 
with   Abrani,  He  'revealed    to  him  both  this   Ola  in   (dispensation)   p.  hi?'^^ 
and  the  Olain  to  come,'  which  latter  expression  is  correctly  ex})lained 
as  referring  to  the  days  of  the  Messiah.     Jewisli  tradition,  there- 
fore, here  asserts  exactly  what  Jesus  stated  in  these  words:  'Your 
fathei'  Abraham  rejoiced  to  see  My  day:  and  he  saw  it,  and  was 
"•lad."''     Yet  we  know  what  storm  (jf  indignation  the  enunciation  of  "St.  John 

^  '  viii.  06 

it  called  Ibrth  among  the  Jews! 

Thus  it  was,  that  every  event  connected  with  the  Messianic  mani- 
festation of  Jesus  would  come  to  the  A'irgin-Mother  as  a  fresh  dis- 
covery and  a  new  surprise.  Each  event,  as  it  took  place,  stood  iso- 
lated in  her  mind;  not  as  part  of  a  whole  which  she  would  anticipate, 
nor  as  only  one  link  in  a  chain;  Init  as  something  quite  by  itself.  She 
knew  the  beginning,  and  she  knew  the  end;  but  she  knew  not  the 
path  which  led  from  the  one  to  the  other;  and  each  step  in  it  was  • 
a  new  revelation.  Hence  it  was,  that  she  so  carefully  treasured  in 
her  heart  every   new  fact,''  piecing  each  to  the  other,  till  she  could  ■'st. Luke 

■^  '      ^  '^  '  u.  19,  51 

read  from  it  the  great  mystery  that  He,  Whom  Incarnate  she  had 
l)orne,  was,  indeed,  the  Son  of  the  living  God.  And  as  it  was 
natural,  so  it  was  well  that  it  should  be  so.  For,  thus  only  could  she 
truly,  because  self-unconsciously,  as  a  Jewish  woman  and  mother, 
fulfll  all  the  recpiirements  of  the  Law,  alike  as  regarded  herself  and 
her  Child. 

The  tirst  of  these  was  Circumcision,  rei)resenting  voluntary  sub- 
jection to  the  conditions  of  the  Law,  and  acceptance  of  the  ol)li- 
gations,  l)ut  also  of  the  i)rivileges,  of  the  Covenant  between  God  and 
Abraham  and  his  seed.  Any  attemjjt  to  show  the  deep  significance 
of  such  a  rite  in  the  case  of  Jesus,  could  only  weaken  the  impression 
which  the  fact  itself  conveys.  The  ceremony  took  place,  as  in  all 
ordinary  circumstances,  on  the  eighth  day,  when  the  Child  received 
the  Angel-given  nanu'  Jeshun  (Jesus).  Two  other  legal  ordinances 
still  remained  to  be  ol)served.  The  firstborn  son  of  every  household 
was,  according  to  the  Law,  to  be  '  redeemed '  of  the  priest  at  the  price 
of  tive  shekels  of  the  Sanctuary.''  Rabbinic  casuistry  here  added  "Numb. 
many  needless,  and  even  repulsive,  details.  The  following,  however, 
are  of  practical  interest.  The  earliest  period  of  presentation  was 
Ihirty-one    days    after    birth,    so  as  to  make  the  legal  month   quite 


194 


FKUM    15KTIILEI1EM    TO   JUliDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


» Beohor. 
viii.  7 


'  Com  p. 
Sifi-a.  ed. 
Weiss,  p.  59 
a  and  /; ; 
Maimon- 
Idos,  Yad 
haCluiz. 
Hal. 

Mechusre 
Capp..  ed. 
Am«t.,  vol. 
lii.  p.  -i'lb 
a  and  li 


coinpleto.  The  cliihl  iniisl,  have  breii  tlie  tii'.stl)(>rii  of  his  mother 
(jiccordinii,"  to  sonic  writers,  of  his  father  also);'  ncitlier  father  nor 
mother  -  must  he  of  Le\itic  (h'sceiit;  and  tJie  eliihl  must  be  free 
from  all  such  bodily  blemishes  as  would  have  disqualitied  him  for 
the  priesthood — or,  as  it  was  expressed:  'the  firstborn  for  the 
priesthood.'  It  was  a  thiiiii'  much  dreaded,  that  the  child  should  die 
before  his  redemption;  but  if  his  father  died  in  the  interval,  the 
child  had  to  redecui  himself  wln-n  of  age.  As  the  Rabbinic  law^ 
expressly  states,  that  the  shekels  were  to  be  of  *  Tyrian  weight,'" 
the  value  of  the  'redemption  money' would  amount  to  about  ten 
or  twelve  shillings.  The  redemption  could  l)e  made  from  any 
priest,  and  attendance  in  the  '■renii)le  was  not  requisite.  It  was 
otherwise  with  the  '  puritication '  of  the  mother.''  The  Rabbinic 
law  fixed  this  at  forty-one  days  after  the  birth  of  a  son,  and  eiglity- 
one  after  that  of  a  daughter,^  so  as  to  make  the  Riblical  terms  (piite 
comi)lete.'  But  it  might  take  place  any  time  later — notably,  when 
attendance  on  any  of  the  great  feasts  brought  a  family  to  Jerusalem. 
Thus,  we  read  of  cases  when  a  mother  would  offer  several  sacrifices  of 
purification  at  the  same  time.*  Rut,  indeed,  the  \\()man  was  not  re- 
quired to  be  personally  present  at  all,  when  her  offering  was  i)resented, 
or,  rather  (as  we  shall  see),  prin'ided  for — say,  by  the  representatives 
of  the  laity,  who  daily  took  part  in  the  services  for  the  various  dis- 
tricts from  which  they  came.  This  also  is  specially  ])rovided  for  in 
the  Tulmud.^  lint  mothers  who  were  within  convenient  distance  of 
the  Temple,  and  esj)ecially  the  more  earnest  anunig  them,  would 
naturally  attend  personally  in  the  Temple;''  and  in  such  cases,  when 
practicalile,  the  redemption  of  the  firstl)orn,  and  the  purification  of 
his  mother,  would  be  combined.  Such  was  undoubtedly  the  case  with 
the  Vir<>in-Mother  and  lier  Son. 


'  So  LuikHuh.  Jiid.  Altcrtli.  ]).  (;21,  and 
Buxtorf,  Le.\.  Tiilmud.  p.  Id!)!).  But  I 
am  bound  to  .say,  that  this  seems  con- 
trary to  the  sayhi,ii;s  of  the  Rabbis. 

■^  This  disposes  of  the  idea,  that  the 
Virgin-Motiier  was  of  direct  Aarouic  or 
Levitic  descent. 

'  Archdeacon  Farrar  is  mistaken  in 
supposin;^,  that  the  -thirty-three  days' 
were  counte<l  -after  the  circumcision.' 
The  idea  must  have  arisen  from  a  mis- 
understandin.i:;  of  the  Enu'lisli  version  of 
Lev.  xii.  4.  There  was  no  connection 
between  the  time  of  the  circumcision  of 
the  child,  and  that  of  the  puritication  of 
his  mother.  In  certain  circumstances 
circumcision  rni^iit  have  to  be  delaved 


for  days — in  case  of  sickness,  till  recov- 
ery. It  is  equally  a  mistake  to  suppose, 
that  a  Jewish  mother  ccuiid  not  leave 
the  house  till  after  the  forty  days  of  her 
puritication. 

+  Com]).  Keritli.  i.  7. 

'"  Jer.  Slieq.  50  h. 

^  Tliere  is  no  ijround  whatever  for  the 
oljjection  wiiicli  Ilablii  ZoH"(Lebensalter, 
p.  112)  raises  a,i:;ainst  the  account  of  8t. 
Luke.  Jewisli  documents  only  prove, 
that  amotiier  iieeil  not  personally  attend 
in  tlie  Temple ;  not  that  they  did  not  do 
so,  wlien  attendance  was  possible.  The 
contrary  impression  is  conveyed  to  us 
Ijy  Jewisli  notices. 


TlIK    ITHIFICATION"    OF    TIIK    VIRGIN. 


195 


P'oi-  this  twofold  i)iir|)osc  tlic  Holy  Fiiiiiil.v  went  up  to  tlic 'rciii])le,      CHAP 
when  the  i)i-<'scrii)t'(l  (hiys  were  (■oiii|)h't(^(l.'     'I'lic  cercjiioiiy   ;it    thi'         VII 
redciiii)tioii  of  a  tii'sthoi-ii  son  was,  ii<»  doubt,  more  siuiplr  than  tliat  ^■"*"~r~* 
at  present  in   use.      It   consisted   of  tlie  formal   ])resentalion   of  the 
ehild  to  the  jn-iest,  aee()nii)anie(l  by  two  short    •  benedictions  " — the 
one  for  the  law  of  redemption,  the  other  foi-  the  .aift  of  a  tirstl)orn 
son.  after  which  the  redemption  money  was  jtaid.-      Most  solemn,  as 
in  such  a  place,  and   rememl)ering  its  symbolic  siii'niticance  as  the 
ex])i-essi(Ui  of  (Jod's  claini  over  each  family  in  Israel,  nnist  this  I'ite 
have  been. 

As  regards  the  rite  at  the  puritieation  of  the  motlier,  the  scantiness 
of  information  has  led  to  serious  misstatements.  Any  comi)arison 
with  our  modern  'churching'  of  woraeir'  is  ina])plical)h;',  since  the 
latter  consists  of  thanksgiving,  and  the  former  primarily  of  a  sin- 
ofiering  for  the  Levitical  defilement  symbolically  attaching  to  the 
beginning  of  life,  and  a  burnt-otfering,  that  marked  the  restoration  of 
connnunion  with  (Jod.  besides,  as  already  stated,  the  sacritice  for 
purification  might  be  brought  in  the  absence  of  the  mother.  Similar 
mistakes  prevail  as  to  the  rubric.  It  is  not  the  case,  as  generall}'' 
stated,  that  the  wonnin  Avas  si)rinkled  with  l)lood.  and  then  pronounced 
clean  by  the  priest,  or  that  prayers  were  ottered  on  the  occasion.* 
The  service  simply  consisted  of  the  statutory  sacrifice.  This  was 
what,  in  ecclesiastical  language.  Avas  termed  an  ottering  o/c//  rri/ored, 
that  is,  'ascending  and  descending."  according  to  the  nu'ans  (tf  the 
oft'erer.  The  sin-offering  Avas.  in  all  cases,  a  turtle-dove  or  a  young 
pigeon.  But.  Avhile  the  moi-e  Avealthy  bi-ought  a  land)  foi-  a  1)urnt- 
offering,  the  poor  might  substitute  for  it  a  turtle-dove,  or  a  young 
pigeon.'    The  rubric  directed  that  the  neck  of  the  sin-otfering  Avas  to 


'  The  exin'essioa  rnv  i<a^ja/jia/iov 
aur&}v  cannot  refer  to  tlie  PurilU'iitimi 
of  the  Yirijin  and  /ler  Bahc  (Farrar),  uor 
to  that  of  the  Viri!;in  and  Josepli  (Meyer), 
because  neither  the  Babe  nor  Joseph 
needed,  nor  were  they  inchided  in,  the 
])nrification.  It  can  only  refer  to  -their' 
(I.e.  Die  Jews')  purification.  But  tliis 
does  not  inii)ly  any  Romish  inferences 
{Sep}).  Leben  .Tesn.  li.  1,  p.  131)  as  to  the 
superlnnnan  condition  or  origin  of  the 
Bh'ssed  A'iriiin  :  on  tlie  contrary,  tlieotl'er- 
in<;-  of  tlie  sin-otlerini;-  i)oiiits  in  tlie  other 
direction. 

-  Conip.  the  rubric  and  the  prayers  in 
Mahnoniile.s.  Tad  haCliaz.  Hilch.  Biccur. 
xi.  5. 

■■•  So  Dr.  (ieikie. 


^  So  Dr.  Geikie,  takinu;  iiis  account 
from  Herzo(j's  Real-Eucykl.  The  mis- 
take about  the  mother  l)eing  sprinkled 
with  sacrificial  blooil  orighuited  with 
Liii'ht foot  (Hone  Hebr.  on  St.  Luke  ii. 
22).  Later  writers  have  followed  the 
lead.  Tamid  v.  (!,  quoted  by  Liijjhtfoot, 
refers  only  to  the  cleansin.ii;  of  tlie  leper. 
The  -prayers'  supposed  to  be  spoken, 
and  tlie  lu-onouncinii-  clean  by  the  priests, 
are  the  eiiilu'llisliiiients  of  later  writers, 
ft)r  wliich  Li.nhtfoot  is  not  resjionsible. 

5  Accordiiii?  to  Sifra  (Par.  Tazria.  Per. 
iv.  3):  -AVhenever  the  sin-oflerinc;  is 
chaiii^ed.  it  i)recedes  [as  on  ordinary  oc- 
casions] the  burnt-otlerinii-;  but  when 
the  buriit-otrerinn'  is  chaiiiiied  [as  on  thi.s 
occasion],  it  precedes  the  sin-ofl'erinii-." 


19G 


FROM   BETIILP^IIEM    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


»  Sebacli. 
vi.  5 


''  Comp. 
Kerith.  i.  7 


0  Sheq.  iv.  0 
*  Sheq.  v;  1 


'  Toseplit. 
Sheq.  iii.  2 


be  broken,  but  the  head  not  wholly  severed;  that  some  of  the  blood 
should  be  sprinkled  at  the  south-western  aiig-le  of  the  altar,'  below 
the  red  line,'  which  ran  round  the  middle  of  the  altar,  ami  that  the 
rest  should  be  jxmred  (mt  at  the  base  of  the  altar.  The  whole  of  the 
tiesh  belon<>-ed  to  the  ])riests,  and  had  to  be  eaten  within  the  enclo- 
sure of  the  Sanctuary.  The  rubric  for  the  burnt-oflering  of  a  turtle-dove 
or  a  young  pigeon  was  somewhat  more  intricate."  The  substitution 
of  the  latter  for  a  young  lamb  was  exi)ressly  designated  'the  poor's 
ottering.'  And  rightly  so,  since,  while  a  lamb  would  probably  cost 
about  three  shillings,  the  average  value  of  a  jjair  of  turtle-doves,  for 
both  the  sin-  and  bnrnt-oftering,  would  be  aliout  eightpence,'^  and  on 
one  occasion  fell  so  low  as  tAvopence.  The  Temple-price  of  the  meat- 
and  drink-ott'erings  was  lixed  onee  a  month:  and  special  officials  in- 
structed the  intending  otterers,  and  i)rovided  them  with  what  was 
needed.'  There  was  also  a  special  '  superintendent  of  turtle-doves  and 
pigeons,'  rcijuired  for  certain  purifications,  and  the  holder  of  that  office 
is  mentioned  with  praise  in  the  Mishnah."  Much,  indeed,  depended 
upon  his  uprightness.  For,  at  any  rate  as  regarded  those  who  brought 
the  poor's  offering,  the  purchasers  of  pigeons  or  turtle-doves  would,  as 
a  rule,  have  to  deal  with  him.  In  the  Court  of  the  Women  there  were 
thirteen  trumpet-shaped  chests  for  pecuniary  contributions,  called 
'trumpets."'  Into  the  third  of  these  they  who  brought  the  poor's 
offering,  like  the  Virgin-Mother,  were  to  drop  the  price  of  the  sacri- 
fices which  were  needed  for  their  purification.'  As  we  infer,"  the 
superintending  i)riest  must  have  been  stationed  here,  alike  to  inform 
the  offerer  of  the  price  of  the  turtle-doves,  and  to  see  that  all  w^as  in 
order.  For,  the  offerer  of  the  poor's  ottering  would  not  require  to 
deal  directly  with  the  sacrificing  i)riest.  At  a  certain  time  in  the 
day  this  third  chest  Avas  opened,  and  half  of  its  contents  ap{)lied  to 
l)urnt-,  the  other  half  to  sin-offerings.  Thus  sacrifices  were  provided 
for  a  corresponding  numl)er  of  those  who  were  to  ])e  i)urified,  without 
either  shaming  the  poor,  needlessly  disclosing  the  character  of  im[)u- 
rity,  or  causing  unnecessary  l)ustle  and  work.  Though  this  mode  of 
procedure  coidd,  of  course,  not  ))e  obligatory,  it  would,  no  doubt,  be 
that  generally  followed. 

We   can  now,   in  imagination.   Ibllow  the   Virgin-Mother  in  the 


1  But  tliis  precise  .si)ot  was  not  niatter 
of  absolute  necessity  (Seb.  vi.  2).  Direc- 
tions are  given  as  to  the  manner  in  wiiicli 
tlie  priest  was  to  jierform  the  sacriticiul 
act. 

-'  Kinnim  i.  1.     If  tlie  sin-ot1'(MiiiH,' was 


a  four-footed  animal,  the  blood  was 
spi'inkled  afxtre  the  red  line. 

•'  Comp.  St.  Matt.  vi.  2.  See  •  Tiie 
Temple  and  its  Services,'  &c.  pp.  2(J,  27. 

+  Comp.  Siiekal.  vi.  5,  the  Connnen- 
taries.  and  Jer.  Sliek.  50  h. 


Till';    \ilv'(;iX    IN    TIIK    TKMI'I.K.  I97 

Tciiii)lc.'  Ik'i'  cliiM  liad  been  _iii\('ii  uj)  to  \\\v  Lord,  and  n'coivcd  CIIAI". 
back  tVoiu  Him.  She  lia<l  entered  the  Court  of  the  AVomeii,  pro))-  Vii 
ably  by  the  •  Gate  of  the  Women,'-  on  the  north  side,  and  deposited  ^-^-^r — ' 
the  priee  of  her  sacrifices  in  Trumpet  No.  3,  which  was  close  to  the 
raised  (hiis  or  gallery  where  tlie  women  worshipped,  apart  from  the 
men.  And  now  the  sound  of  the  organ,  which  announced  through- 
out the  vast  Temple-buildings  that  the  incense  was  about  to  Ijc 
kindled  on  the  Golden  Altar,  summoned  those  who  were  to  be  puri- 
fied. The  chief  of  the  ministrant  lay-representatives  of  Israel  on 
duty  (the  so-called  'station-men')  ranged  those,  who  presented 
themselves  before  the  Lord  as  offerers  of  special  sacrifices,  within 
the  wickets  on  either  side  the  great  Nicanor  Gate,  at  the  top  of  the 
fifteen  steps  which  led  up  from  the  Court  of  the  Women  to  that  of 
Isi'ael.  Jt  was,  as  if  they  were  to  be  brought  nearest  to  the  Sanctuary; 
as  if  theirs  were  to  be  specially  the  ^jrayers '  that  rose  in  the  cloud 
of  incense  from  the  Golden  Altar;  as  if  for  them  specially  the 
sacrifices  were  laid  on  the  Altar  of  Burnt-oftering;  as  if  theirs  was 
a  larger  share  of  the  benediction  which,  spoken  by  the  lips  of  the 
priests,  seemed  like  Jehovah's  answer  to  the  prayers  of  the  people; 
theirs  especially  the  expression  of  joy  symbolised  in  the  drink-oft'ering,  . 
and  the  hymn  of  praise  whose  Tris-Hagion  filled  the  Temple.  From 
where  they  stood  they  could  see  it  all,^  share  in  it,  rejoice  in  it.  And 
now  the  general  service  was  over,  and  only  those  remained  wdio  In-ought 
special' sacrifices,  or  who  lingered  near  them  that  had  such,  or  whose 
•l(»ved  al)ode  was  ever  in  the  Temple.  The  purification-service,  witli 
such  unspoken  prayer  and  ])i'aise  as  would  bo  the  outcome  of  a 
grateful  heart/  was  soon  ended,  and  they  who  liad  shared  in  it  were 
Levitically  clean.  Now  all  stain  was  i-emoved,  and,  as  the  Ijaw  put 
it.  they  might  again  partake  of  sacred  ofi'erings. 

X\\{\  in   such   sacred  ofi'ering,  better  than  any  of  which  priest's 

'  According  to  Dr.  Geikie.  •  tlie  (Jdld-  tlie  elevated  idatlonii  011  wliicii  tiicy  cem- 

en  Gate  at  the  head  of  tlie  loiii;-  tliftlit  of  inoiily  worshipped. 

stejjs  that  led  to  tlie  valley  of  the  Kedion  ^  This  is  stated  V>y  tlie  Kabhis  to  have 

opened  into  the  Court  of  th(>  Women.'  been   the  oljject   of  the    burnt-otteriiiii;. 

T^ut  there  was  110  Golden   Gate,   neitiier  That  snii-,2:ested  for  the  sin-ollerinii- is  too 

was  there  any  tlinlit    of  steps  into  the  ridiculous    to    iiieiitioii.      The    laiiiiiuiire 

valley  of  the  Kedron.  while  between  the  used  about  the  burnt-otterin.u,- reminds  us 

Court  of  the  AVonien  and  any  outer  ,e;ate  of  that  in  the  exhortation  in  the  otiieefor 

(such  as   coutd  have   led  into   Kedron),  the   'Cliurchin<4-  of  AVomen":   -that  she 

the  Court  of  the  Gentiles  and  a  colonnade  miiiiit  l)e  stirred  up   to  give  thanks  to 

must  have  intervened.  Aliniyhty  God,   Who  has  delivei-ed  her 

-  Or  else,  -the  ,i;;ate  of  the  tirstlin.iis.'  from  the  jiains  and  perils  of  childbirtli 

Coinp.  iivnerally.  'The Temple,  its  Minis-  (ni"^";*  *"'2n!':  n~*i~r'-   '^^'''i^'''   '■'^  matter 

try  and  .Services."  of  niiracie.'  '(Coinp.   llottiitijenis.  Juris 

'■'  This  thev  could  not  have  done  fr(U!\  llel)r.  Leses,  ed.  Tiguri.  p.  2:^8.) 


298  FI{OM    JJKTIII.KIIKM    TO    Jol.'DAN. 

I5()()K       liiiiiily    liiid   cNcr   luirtukcii,    \v;is   the   N'irji'iii-Mot licr   iimncdiately  to 
II  share.      Jt  lias  been  observed,  tliat   by  the  side  of  evei-y  liiiuiiliation 

^- — " . —  eoiiiiected  ^vitli  the  Hinnaiiity  of  the  Messiah,  the  "ilory  of  His  Divinity 
was  also  made  to  shine  foi'th.  Tlie  coiiicideiiees  are  manifestly 
undesigned  on  the  part  of  the  ICvangelic  writers,  and  henee  all  the 
more  striking,  'riius,  if  he  was  born  of  the  humble  Maiden  of- 
Xazareth,  an  Angel  announced  His  birtli;  if  the  Infant-Saviour  was 
eradied  in  a  manger,  the  shining  liost  of  heaven  liymned  His  Advent. 
And  so  afterwards — if  He  hungered  and  was  temi)ted  in  the  wiider- 
iiess,  Angels  ministered  to  Him,  even  as  an  Angel  strengthened  ilim 
in  tlie  agony  of  the  garden.  H'  He  submitted  to  baptism,  the  Voice 
and  vision  from  heaven  attested  His  Sonship;  if  enemies  threatened. 
He  could  miraculously  pass  through  them;  if  tlie  Jews  assailed, 
tliere  was  the  Yoice  of  God  to  glorify  Him;  if  He  was  nailed  t(^  the 
cross,  the  sun  craped  his  brightness,  and  earth  quaked;  if  He  was 
laid  in  the  tomb.  Angels  kept  its  watches,  and  heralded  His  rising. 
And  so,  when  now  the  Mother  of  Jesus,  in  lier  hund^leness,  could 
only  bring  the  Spoor's  ottering,'  the  witness  to  tlu'  greatness  of  Him 
Whom  she  had  borne  was  not  wanting.  A  '  eucharistic  otT'ering  ' — so 
.  to  speak — was  brought,  the  record  of  which  is  tlie  more  precious 
that  Rahbinie  writings  make  no  allusion  to  the  existence  of  the 
party,  whose  representatives  we  here  meet.  Yet  they  were  the  true 
outcome  of  the  spirit  of  the  Old  Testament,  and,  as  such,  at  this 
time,  the  special  recipients  of  the  '  Spirit '  of  the  Old  Testament. 

The  '  parents  '  of  Jesus  had  l)rought  Him  into  the  Temple  for 
presentation  and  redemption,  when  they  were  met  l)y  one,  vfhose 
venerable  figure  must  have  l)een  Avell  known  in  tiie  city  and  the 
Sanctuary.  Simeon  combined  the  three  characteristics  of  Old  Testa- 
ment piety:  ^Justice,'  as  regarded  his  relation  and  bearing  to  God 
and  man;  ^  '/ear  of  God,' '^  in  opposition  to  the  boastful  self-right- 
eousness of  Pharisaism;  and,  above  all,  longiua  expectancij  of  the 
near  fulfilment  of  the  great  promises,  and  that  in  their  spin'tiKd 
import  as  *  the  (\)ns;olation  of  Israel.'^     The  Holy  Spirit  was  u])on 

1  Coinp.  Josi'ji/ius,  Ant.  xii.  2.  Ti.  it  is  several  times  put  into  the  inontli  of 

-  The  expression,   evXcx/iiji,  unqiies-  a  .S'm«o»  (Chaij.  Iti  b\  Mace.  "Wy;  Shev. 

tionably  refers  to  '  fear  of  Clod.'    Conip.  'Ma) — altliou;;;;h,  of  course,  not  the  one 

Delitzsch.'HehY.   Br.    p)).   I'.H.    I!i2:  and  mentioned  by  St.  Luke.   The  su2;p;estion, 

(h-imm,  Claris  N.T.  p.  isd  li.  that  the  latter  was  the  son  of  the  .ijreat 

■^  The  e.x'iiression   ;-;«;-•   ■  ('((n.-^oiatioii."  llillel  and   the    father   of   Gamaliel,   St. 

for  the  .ijreat  ^[essiani(•l)((|)(' — whenoe  the  Paul's  teacher,  thonu'h  not  impossible  as 

Messianic  title  of  .l/f'/z^/r//^'//; —is  of  vei'y  reii;ards  time,  is  unsupported,  thmii^h  it 

frequent  occurrence  (so  in  the  Tariiuni  does  seem  stranjre  that  the  Mishnah  has 

on   Tsaiah   and  .Jeremiah,   and   in  many  nothinij   to  say  about  him:   ■ /o   inscar 

Rabbinical  passages).   Curiciusly eiiouirh.  hmn/sluKili.' 


Till-:    S()N(;    OF    SIMKOX.  ](»9 

liiiii:  iiiid  by  that  same  Spiiit  '  the  ^i>,-racious  Divine  answer  to  his  ciiaI". 
heart's  hanging  had  been  e(»ninuniieatod  him.  And  now  it  was  as  vii 
had  been  promised  him.  Coming  'in  the  Spirit"  into  tlie  'IVmple.  ^~ — ~r — ' 
jnst  as  His  parents  were  bringing  the  Infant  Jesus,  lie  took  Him 
into  his  arms,  and  burst  into  rapt  thanksgiving,  ^'ow,  iii(h'<'d,  had 
(lod  fnltilled  His  word.  He  was  not  to  see  death,  till  he  had  seen 
t he  Lord's  Christ.  Xow  did  his  Lord  'dismiss'  him  'inpeaee'- — ■ 
release  hinr'  in  blessed  eomlbrt  from  Avork  and  watch — since  he  had 
actually  seen  that  salvation,*  so  long  preparing  lV)r  a  wailing  weary 
world:  a  glorious  light,  Whose  rising  would  light  up  heathen  dark- 
ness, and  be  the  outshining  glory  around  Israel's  mission.  \\]\\\  this 
Infant  in  his  arms,  it  was  as  if  he  stood  on  the  mountain-height  of 
prophetic  vision,  and  watched  the  golden  beams  of  sunrise  far  away 
over  the  isles  of  the  Gentiles,  and  then  gathering  their  full  glow 
over  his  own  beloved  land  and  people.  There  was  nothing  .Judaic — 
(piite  the  c(jntrary:  only  what  was  of  the  Old  Testament — in  what 
he  tirst  said."  ^st. Luke 

But  his  unexpected  appearance,  the  more  unexpected  deed  and 
words,  and  that  most  unexpected  form  in  which  what  was  said  of  tlie 
Infant  Christ  was  presented  to  their  minds,  tilled  the  hearts  of  His 
])arents  with  wonderment.  And  it  was,  as  if  their  silent  wonderment 
had  been  an  unspoken  question,  to  which  the  answer  now  came  in 
words  of  blessing  from  the  aged  watcher.  Mystic  they  seemed,  yet 
])rophetic.  But  now  it  was  the  personal,  or  rather  the  Judaic,  aspect 
which,  in  broken  utterances,  was  set  before  the  Virgin-Mother — as 
if  the  whole  history  of  the  Christ  ui)on  earth  were  passing  in  rapid 
vision  befoi'e  Simeon.  That  Infant,  now  again  in  the  Virgin-Mother's 
arms:  It  was  to  l)e  a  stone  of  decision;  a  foundation  and  corner- 
stone,''for  fall  or  for  uprising;  a  sign  spoken  against;  the  swoi'd  of  >.  is.  viii.  i4 
deep  ])ersonal  sorrow  would  j^icMve  the  Mother's  heai't;  and  so  to  the 

'  The  nuMition  of  the  •  Holy  Spirit,"  a.s  i)erished.     On  tlie  other  haml.  ou  tukiii,i;- 

speakiiii;;  to   individuals,    is  frequent   in  leave  of  a  dead  friend,  we  are    to    say 

Rabliinic  writiniis.     This,  of  course,  does  'Go  in  peace,'  according  to  Gen.  xv.  1.5, 

not  imply  their  1)elief  in  the  Personality  and  not  'Go  to  peace.' 
of  the  Holy  Si)irit  (com]).  Bemidli.  R.  15;  '^  The  expression,  dTtoXvFiv.(ihsiiln^ri% 

20;  Midr.  on   Ruth  ii.  !) ;  Yalkut,  vol.  i.  Jiherare.  dcmiffcrc,  is  most  ,iiTai>hic.     It 

pji.  'I'll  h  and  2()o  d).  corresponds  to   the  Hebrew  ■^^r.  which 

■^  The   Talmud   (Ber.  last   i)a.2;e)  has  a  is  also  used  of  death;  as  in  n'l^ard  to 

curious  conceit,  to  the  efiect  that,  in  tak-  Simeon  the  Just,  Menach.  10!)  h:  comp. 

ing  leave  of  a  person,  one  ought  to  say:  Ber.  17  a\  Targuni  on  Cant.  i.  7. 
'Go  to  peace,' not  'm  peace  '  (crrS  '  Qodet  seems  to  strain  the  meaning 

not  ai'i't/*^^'    ^^   former    having    been  of  (j(»r?7p2oz',  when  he  renders  it  by  the 

said  by  Jethro  to  Moses  (Ex.  iv.  IS),  on  iu>uter  of  the  adjective.     It  is  fre(iueutly 

which  lie  prospered;  the  latter  by  David  used  in  tli(>  LXX.  foi'  nr'r*- 
to  Absalom  (2  Sam.  xv.  9).  on  which  he 


200 


FROM    HETlI(>i:ni:.M    TO    JORDAN'. 


BOOK 
II 


»  Ber.  K.  71, 
ed.  Warsh. 
p.  131  h 
end:  99. 
p.  179  «, 
lines  1.3  and 
12  from 
bottom 


tcri'iblo  011(1,  wlicii  the  veil  of  extci-naii.siu  wliicli  liad  so  lono-  covered 
the  hearts  of  Israel's  leaders  would  be  rent,  and  the  deep  evil  of  their 
thoughts '  laid  bare.  Such,  as  regarded  Israel,  was  the  history  of 
Jesus,  from  His  Baptism  to  the  Cross;  and  such  is  still  the  history 
of  Jesus,  as  ever  present  to  the  heart  of  the  believing,  loving  Church. 

Nor  was  Simeon's  the  only  hymn  of  praise  on  that  day.  A 
special  interest  attaches  to  her  who,  coming  that  very  moment, 
responded  in  ])rai.-^('  to  God'^  for  the  pledge  she  saw  of  the  near 
redemption.  A  kind  of  mystery  seems  to  invest  this  Anna  (ChannaJi). 
A  widow,  whose  earl}^  desolateness  had  been  followed  by  a  long  life 
of  solitaiy  mourning;  one  of  those  in  Avhose  home  the  tribal  gene- 
alogy had  been  preserved.^  We  infer  from  this,  and  from  the  fact 
that  it  was  that  of  a  tribe  which  liad  not  returned  to  Palestine,  that 
hers  was  a  family  of  some  distinction.  Curiously  enough,  the  tribe 
of  Asher  alone  is  celebrated  in  tradition  for  the  beauty  of  its  women, 
and  their  fitness  to  be  wedded  to  High-Priest  or  King.'' 

But  Anna  had  better  claim  to  distinction  than  family-descent,  or 
long,  faithful  memory  of  brief  home-joys.  These  many  years  she  had 
spent  in  the  Sanctuary/ and  spent  in  fasting  and  prayer — jet  not 
of  that  self-righteous,  self-satisfied  kind  which  was  of  the  essence  of 
popular  religion.  Nor,  as  to  the  Pharisees  around,  was  it  the 
Synagogue  which  was  her  constant  and  loved  resort;  but  tlie  Temple, 
with  its  symljolic  and  unsi)oken  worshi]),  which  Rabbinic  self-asser- 
tion and  rationalism  were  rapidly  superseding,  and  for  whose  services, 
indeed,  Rabbinism  could  find  no  real  basis.  Nor  yet  were  'fasting 
and  prayer'  to  her  the  all-in-all  of  religion,  sufficient  in  themselves; 
sufficient  also  iK'fore  God.  Deepest  in  her  soul  was  longing  wait- 
ing for  the  'redemption'  promised,  and  now  surely  nigh.  To  her 
widowed  heart  tlie  great  hoi)e  of  Israel  ai)peared  not  so  niueh,  as  to 
Simeon,  in  the  light  of  'consolation.'  as  ratlier  in  that  of  •redemp- 
tion." The  seemingly  hopeless  exile  of  liei-  own  tribe,  the  political 
state  of  Judaea,  the  condition — social,  moral,  and  religious — of  her 
own  Jerusalem:  all  kindled  in  her,  as  in  those  who  Avere  like-minded, 
deep,  earnest  longing  for  the  time  of  promised  •redemption.'     No 


'  dia?iuyta/id~,  <;eiienilly  n.^ed  in  nn 
evil  sense. 

•^  The  verb  dvijo/ioXoyfia^jai  may 
mean  respon.sive  ])i'aise.  or  simply  praise 
(""'"'■  ^vhicli  in  tliiscase,  Iiowever,  would 
equally  be  '  in  resi)onse '  to  that  of  Si- 
meon, whether  responsive  in  form  or  not. 

■*  The  whole  subject  of  'iicnealoiries  ' 
is  briefly,  but  well  treated  by  Iloinfmr- 
fjer.  Real-Encykl.,  .section  ii.  pp.  2M1  Ac. 


It  is  a  pity,  that  llnmhiirijcr  so  often 
treats  his  subjects  from  a  .Juda,'0-apoIo- 
^■etic  .standpoint. 

'  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  discuss 
the  curious  suggestion,  that  Anna  ac- 
tually Ured  in  the  Temi)le.  No  one, 
lea.st  of  all  a  woman,  i)ermanently  re- 
sided in  the  Temple,  though  the  High 
I'l'iest  had  cluunbers  there. 


ANNA.  201 

place  so  suited  to  such  au  one  as  the  Temple,  with  its  services — the     chap. 
only  thing-  free,  pure,  undefiled,  and  pointing  forward   and   upward;        "^"H 

no  occupation  so  befitting  as  'fasting  and  prayer.'     And.  blessed  be  ^— ^' ' 

(rod,  there  were  others,  perhaps  many  such,  in  Jerusalem.  Though 
Rabbinic  tradition  ignored  them,  they  were  the  salt  which  preserved 
the  mass  from  festering  corruption.  To  her  as  the  representative, 
the  example,  friend,  and  adviser  of  such,  was  it  granted  as  prophetess 
to  recognise  Him,  Whose  Advent  had  been  the  burden  of  Simeon's 
praise.  And,  day  by  day,  to  those  who  looked  for  redemption  in 
Jerusalem,  would  she  speak  of  Him  Whom  her  eyes  had  seen,  though 
it  must  be  in  whispers  and  with  bated  breath.  For  they  were  in  the 
citv  of  Herod,  and  the  stronsrhold  of  Pharisaism. 


202  FROM  i;ktiili-:iii-:.m  to  jukdan. 


CHAPTER     YIII. 

THE  VISIT  AND  HOMAfJE  OF  THE  MA(;i,   AM)  THE  FLIGHT  INTO  EOYPT. 

(.^t.  Mutt.  ii.    l-l>i.  I 

BOOK      ^N'lTH  the  rresontation  of  the  Iiilant    Saviour  in  the  Temple,   and 
II         His  acknowledgment — not  indeed  by  the  leaders  of  Israel,  but,  charae- 

-^,-^*-^  teristicall}',  ])y  the  representatives  of  those  earnest  men  and  women 
who  looked  for  His  Advent — the  Prologue,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  to 
the  third  Gospel  closes.  From  whatever  source  its  information  was 
derived — perhaps,  as  has  l)een  suggested,  its  earlier  jjortion  from  the 
Yirgin-Mother,  the  later  from  Anna;  or  else  both  alike  from  her,  who 
with  loving  reverence  and  wonderment  treasured  it  all  in  her  henrt 
— its  iimrvellous  details  could  not  have  been  told  with  greater  sim- 
])lieity,  Jior  yet  with  more  exquisitely  delicate  grace. '  On  the  other 
hand,  the  Prologue  to  the  first  Gospel,  Avhile  omitting  these,  records 
other  incidents  of  the  infancy  of  the  Saviour.  The  ])lan  of  these 
narratives,  or  the  sources  whence  they  may  originally  have  been  de- 
'  rived,  may  account  for  the  omissions  in  either  case.  At  first  sight  it 
may  seem  strange,  that  the  cosmopolitan  Gospel  by  St.  Luke  should 
have  described  what  took  place  in  the  Temple,  and  the  homage  of 
the  Jews,  while  the  Gospel  by  St.  Matthew,  which  was  primarily 
intended  for  Hebrews,  records  only  the  homage  of  the  Gentiles,  and 
the  circumstances  Avhich  led  to  the  flight  into  Egypt.  But  of  such 
seeming  contrasts  there  are  not  a  few  in  the  Gospel-history — discords, 
which  soon  resolve  themselves  into  glorious  harmony. 

The  story  of  the  homage  to  the  Infant  Saviour  l»y  the  M^^(Ji  is 
told  by  St.  Matthew,  in  language  of  which  the  brevity  constitutes  the 

'  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  point  out.  have   done  so,   ami   pui'tly  because  tlie 

how  evidential  this  is  of  the  truthfulness  only  object  served    by  i-epeatiii";;.    what 

of  the  Gospel-narrative.     In  this  respect  must  so  deeply  shock  the  Christian  mind, 

also  the  so-called   Apocryphal  Gosjiels.  would  be  to  point  the  contrast  between 

with   their    jn"oss    and    often   repulsive  th(>  canonical  and  the  Apocryi)hal  Gos- 

le<rendary  adornments,   form  a  strikiim  jiels.     But   tliis  can.  I  think,  be  as  well 

contrast.     I    have    purposely  abstained  done  by  a  sin^rle  sentence,  as  by  pages 

from  reproducing    any  of   these    narra-  of  quotations, 
lives,    partly   because   previous   wi'iters 


Til 


llnMi;   OK   TIIK    .\lA(;i. 


203 


chid"  (litliculty.  Kvcii  tlieir  (h-si.uiiatioii  is  no!  IVcc  IVoiii  ;iiiihi^iiitv. 
The  term  Mdiji  is  used  in  I  he  LXX.,  In  JMiiln,  .loscplius,  and  hy 
profane  writei's,  alike  in  an  e\il  and,  so  to  s])eak,  in  a  _ii'oo([  sense' — 
ill  the  loruier  case  as  implyiiii;- the  [)raeliee  of  iiia<iieal  arts;'  in  the 
latter,  as  referring  to  those  Eastern  (especially  Chaldee)  priest-sages, 
whose  researches,  in  great  ineasure  as  yet  mysterious  and  unknown 
to  us,  seem  to  have  embraced  much  deei)  knowledge,  though  not 
untinged  with  superstiti(»n.  It  is  to  these  latter,  that  the  Magi 
.spoken  of  by  St.  Matthew  must  have  belonged.  Their  number — to 
whicli,  liowe\er,  no  imi)ortaiice  attaches — cannot  ])e  asc('rtaincd.^ 
Various  suggestions  have  l)ecn  made  as  to  the  country  ol'  •  tlie  East,' 
whence  they  came.  At  the  period  in  question  the  sacerdotal  caste 
of  the  Medcs  and  Persians  was  dispersed  over  various  ])arts  of  the 
East,-' and  the  presence  in  those  lands  of  a  large  Jewish  <Ji((spora, 
through  which  they  might,  and  iirobably  would,  gain  knowledge  of 
the  great  liope  of  Israel,*  is  sufficiently  attested  l)y  Jewish  history. 
The  oldest  opinion  traces  the  Magi — though  partially  on  insufficient 
grounds'' — to  Arabia.  And  there  is  this  in  favor  of  it,  that  not 
only  the  closest  intercourse  existed  bet^veen  Palestine  and  Arabia, 
but  that  from  about  120  B.c.  to  the  sixth  century  of  our  era,  the 
kings  of  Yemen  {)rofessed  the  Jewish  faith."  For  if.  on  the  one 
hand,  it  seems  unlikely,  that  Eastern  Magi  would  spontaiieously 
connect  a  celestial  phenomenon  \\\X\\    the  birth  of  a  Jewish    king, 


CIIAI* 
Vlll 


■  So  also  in 
Acts  viii.  9; 
xiii.  6,  8 


'  The  evidence  on  tliis  i)oint  is  fiir- 
nirflied  by  J.  G.  MiiUc)-  in  Herzog'f!  Reiii- 
Enc,  vol.  viii.  p.  ()82.  The  whole  subject 
of  the  visit  of  the  Magi  is  treated  witli 
the  greatest  ability  and  learning  (as 
against  Stranss)  by  Dr.  Mill  (-On  the 
Mythical  Interpretation  of  the  Gospels,' 
part  ii.  pp.  27.3  iVc). 

-'  They  are  variously  stated  as  twelve 
(Aug.  Chrysost. )  and  three,  the  latter 
on  account  of  the  nuinl)er  of  the  gifts. 
Other  legends  on  the  subject  need  not 
be  repeated. 

■'  Mill  u.  s..  p.  30:5. 

*  There  is  no  historical  evidence  that 
at  the  time  of  Clirist  there  was  among 
the  nations  any  widesi)read  expeotanc\ 
of  the  Advent  of  a  Messiah  in  Palestine. 
AVhere  the  knowledge  of  such  a  hope 
existed,  it  must  have  been  entirely  de- 
rived from  Jewish  sources.  The  allusions 
to  it  by  Tncitvs  (Hist.  v.  18)  and  Siic- 
touiiis  (Ves]).  4)  are  evidently  derived 
from  Josei)hus,  and  admittedly  refer  to 
the  Flavian  dynasty,  and  to  a  period 
seventy  years  or  more  after  the  Advent. 


of  Christ.  •  The  splendid  vaticination  in 
the  Fourth  Eclogue  of  Virgil, '  which  Arch- 
deacon Farrar  regards  as  among  the  '  un- 
conscious lU'ophecies  of  heathendom,'  is 
confessedly  derived  from  the  Cuma^an 
Sibyl,  and  based  on  the  Sil)ylline  Oracles, 
bookiii.  lines  Ts4-7!)4  (ed. /•'/•/>-(///>'/(.  p.Sfi; 
seeEinl.  p.  xx.\ix.|.  Alnu)st  the  whole  of 
book  iii..  inclusive  of  these  verses,  is  of 
Jewish  authorship,  and  dates  proljably 
from  about  160  b.c.  Archdeacon  Farrar 
holds  that,  besides  the  ahore  references, 
•  there  is  ample  proof,  both  in  Jewish  and 
Pagan  writings,  that  a  guilty  and  weary 
world  was  dimly  expecting  tJie  advent  of 
its  Deliverer.'  But  he  otters  no  evidence  of 
it.  either  from  Jewish  or  Pagan  writings. 

'•  Comp.  MiU,  u.  s..  ]).  808,  note  (>(). 
The  grovjids  adduced  by  some  are  such 
references  as  to  Is.  viii.  4 ;  Ps.  Ixxii.  10, 
A'C. :  and  the  character  of  the  gifts. 

*^  Comp.  the  account  of  this  Jewish 
nn)narchy  in  the  -History  of  the  Jewish 
Nation,"  pp. 07-71 :  also  li<'m())HVs\^vs.  e. 
Gesch.  d.  Ausbreit.d.  Judenth.  pp.81  dire. ; 
and  Jo«f,  Gesch.  d.  Isr.  vol.  v.  pp.  28(5  A-c. 


204  P'ROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

I500K      evidence  will,  on  the  other  hand,  )je  presented  to  connect  the  nu'iin- 
H         ing  attached  to  the  ai)pearance  of  'the  star'  at  that  [)articuhii-  time 
^ — '•-'^'^   with  Jewish  expectancy  of  the  Messiah,     But  we  are  anticipating. 

Shortly  after  the  Prcsentaticm  of  tiie  Infant  Saviour  in  the 
Temple,  certain  Magi  from  the  East  arrived  in  Jerusalem  Avith 
strange  tidings.  They  had  seen  at  its  'rising' 'a  sidereal  appear- 
ance,^ which  they  regarded  as  betokening  the  birth  of  the  Messiah 
King  of  the  Jews,  in  the  sense  which  at  the  time  attached  to  that 
.  designation.  Accordingly,  they  had  come  to  Jerusalem  to  pay 
homage  ^  to  Him,  probably  not  because  they  imagined  He  must  be 
born  in  the  Jewish  capital*  but  because  they  would  naturally  expect 
there  to  obtain  authentic  information,  '  where '  He  might  be  found. 
In  their  simplicity  of  heart,  the  Magi  addressed  themselves  in  the 
first  place  to  the  official  head  of  the  nation.  The  rumor  of  such  an 
inquiry,  and  by  such  persons,  would  rapidly  spread  throughout  the 
city.  But  it  produced  on  King  Herod,  and  in  the  capital,  a  far  dil- 
ferent  impression  from  the  feeling  of  the  Magi.  Unscrupulously 
cruel  as  Herod  had  always  proved,  even  the  slightest  suspicion  of 
danger  to  his  rule — the  bare  possibility  of  the  Advent  of  One,  Who 
had  such  claims  upon  the  allegiance  of  Israel,  and  Who,  if  acknow- 
ledged, would  evoke  the  most  intense  movement  on  their  part — must 
have  struck  terror  to  his  heart.  Not  that  he  could  believe  the 
tidings,  though  a  dread  of  their  possibility  might  creep  over  a  nature 
such  as  Herod's;  but  the  bare  thought  of  a  Pretender,  with  such 
claims,  w^ould  till  him  with  suspicion,  apprehension,  and  impotent 
rage.  Nor  is  it  difficult  to  understand,  that  the  whole  city  should, 
although  on  diflerent  grounds,  have  shared  the  '  trouble '  of  the 
king.  It  was  certainly  not,  as  some  have  suggested,  from  appre- 
hension of  'the  woes'  which,  according  to  popular  notions,  were  to 
accompany  the  Advent  of  Messiah.  Throughout  the  history  of  Christ 
the  absence  of  such  '  woes '  was  never  made  a  ground  of  objection  to 

'  Tliis   Ls  the  correct  reiulerin^,   and  seem  most  inconi!;ruou.-<,  but  an  an  ecuiiva- 

not,  as  in  A.V.,  'in  the  East."  the  latter  1)p-  lent  of  the  Hebrew  n'n.Twn-  "^■'^  >"  (i*^^i- 

ino;exi)ressed  Ijy  the  phu'al  of  ai'crroA//,  xix.   1.     So  often  in   the  LXX.  and  t»y 

in  V.  1,  while  in  vv.  2  and  '.)   the  word  is  ))rofane  writers  (comp.  Srlilciisner.  u.  s.. 

used  in  tlie  siti>;'ular.  t.  ii.    pp.    74!),    750.    and    Vorsfjux.    De 

•^  Srlih^usiier  lias   aljundantly   i)roved  Hebraismis  N.T.  pp.  (i37-(i41). 

that  the  word  dariyj,  thonuh  ])rimarily  *  This  is  the  view  generally,  but  as  I 

meaninj?  a  f^tiir.  is  also  used  of  constella-  think  erroneously,  entertained.  Any  Jew 

tions,  meteors,  and  comets — in  short,  has  would  have  told  them,  that  the  Messiah 

the  widest  ai)i)lication:  '  omne  designare,  was  not  to  be  born  in  Jerusalem.     Be- 

(luod  aliiiuem  splendorem  habet  et  emit-  sides,  the  ((uestion   of  the  Magi  implies 

tit  ■  (Ee.\.  in  N.T..  t.  i.  pp.  SitO,  31)11.  their  ignorance  of   the   -where'  of  the 

•'  Not,   as  in   the  A.V..    'to  worship,'  Messiah. 
which  at  this  stage  of  the  history  would 


KIN(J    lIKIiOI)    AND    THE    MAGI. 


205 


His  Messianic  claims;  and  this,  Ijecause  these  '  woes'  were  not  asso- 
ciated with  the  first  Advent  of  the  Messiah,  but  with  His  final  mani- 
testation  in  power.  And  between  these  two  periods  a  more  or  less 
long  interval  was  supposed  to  intervene,  during  which  the  Messiah 
would  ])c  '  hidden,'  either  in  the  literal  sense,  or  perhaps  as  to  His 
power,  or  else  in  both  respects.^  This  enables  us  to  understand  the 
question  of  the  disciples,  as  to  the  sign  of  His  coming  and  the  end  of 
the  world,  and  the  answer  of  the  Master/  But  the  people  of  Jeru- 
salem had  far  other  reason  to  fear.  They  knew  only  too  well  the 
character  of  Herod,  and  what  the  consequences  woidd  be  to  them,  or 
to  any  one  who  might  be  suspected,  however  unjustly,  of  sympathy 
with  any  claimant  to  the  royal  throne  of  David.  ^ 

Herod  took  immediate  measures,  characterised  by  his  usual  cun- 
ning. He  called  together  all  the  High-Priests — past  and  present — 
and  all  the  learned  Rabbis,^  and,  without  committing  himself  as  to 
whether  the  Messiah  was  already  born,  or  only  expected,*  simply  pro- 
pounded to  them  the  question  of  His  birthplace.  This  would  show 
him  where  Jewish  expectancy  looked  for  the  appearance  of  his  rival, 
and  thus  enable  him  to  watch  alike  that  place  and  the  people  gen- 
erally, while  it  might  possibly  bring  to  light  the  feelings  of  the  leaders 
of  Israel.  At  the  same  time  he  took  care  diligently  to  inquire  the 
precise  time,  when  the  sidereal  appearance  had  first  attracted  the 
attention  of  the  Magi."  This  would  enable  him  to  judge,  how  far 
back  he  would  have  to  make  his  own  inquiries,  since  the  birth  of  the 
Pretender  might  be  made  to  synchronise  with  the  earliest  appear- 
ance of  the  sidereal  phenomenon.  So  long  as  any  one  lived,  who  was 
born  in  Bethlehem  between  the  earliest  appearance  of  this  '  star ' 
and  the  time  of  the  arrival  of  the  Magi,  he  was  not  safe.  The  sub- 
sequent conduct  of  Herod"  shows,  that  the  Magi  must  have  told  him, 
that  their  earliest  observation  of  the  sidereal  phenomenon  had  taken 
place  two  years  before  their  arrival  in  Jerusalem. 

The  assembled  authorities  of  Israel  could  only  return  one  answer 


CHAP. 
VHI 


»  As  re- 
ported in 
St.  Matt, 
xxiv.  3-29 


b  St.  Matt, 
ii.  7 


1  Christian  writers  on  these  subjects 
have  generally  conjoined  the  so-called 
'  woes  of  the  Messiah '  with  His  tirst 
a])iiearance.  It  seems  not  to  have 
occurred  to  them,  that,  if  such  had  been 
the  .Jewish  expectation,  a  preliminary 
objection  would  have  lain  against  the 
claims  of  Jesus  from  their  absence. 

2  Their  feelings  on  this  matter  would 
be  represented,  mufatis  mutaiidis,  by 
the  expressions  in  the  Sanhedrin,  re- 
corded in  St.  John  xi.  47-50. 


^  Both  Meyer  and  "Weiss  have  shown, 
that  tfiis  was  not  a  meeting  of  the  San- 
hedrin. if.  indeed,  that  body  had  anj'- 
tliing  more  than  a  shadowy  existence 
during  the  reign  of  Herod. 

*  The  question  i)roiiounded  by  Herod 
fv.  4),  '  where  Christ  should  be  born,'  is 
l)ut  neither  in  the  iiast  nor  in  the  future, 
but  in  the  prcsi^ut  tense.  In  other  words, 
he  laid  before  them  a  rase — a  theological 
l)roblem — but  not  a  fact,  either  past  or 
future. 


206 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


'  Jer.  Ber. 
i.  i,  p.  5  <( 


1'  St.  Matt. 
u.  6 


to  the  c|,iiestion  submitted  by  Herod.  As  shown  by  the  rendering  of 
the  Targum  Jonathan,  the  prediction  in  Micah  v.  2  was  at  the  time 
universally  understood  as  pointing  to  Bethlehem,  as  the  birthplace 
of  the  Messiah.  That  such  was  the  general  expectation,  appears 
from  the  Talmud,"  where,  in  an  imaginary  conversation  between  an 
Arab  and  a  Jew,  Bethlehem  is  authoritatively  named  as  Messiah's 
birthplace.  St.  Matthew  reproduces  the  prophetic  utterance  of 
Micah,  exactly  as  such  quotations  were  popularly  made  at  that  time. 
It  will  be  remembered  that,  Hebrew  being  a  dead  language  so  far  as 
the  people  were  concerned,  the  Holy  Scriptures  were  always  trans- 
lated into  the  popular  dialect,  the  person  so  doing  being  designated 
Methurgeinan  {dragoman)  or  interpreter.  These  .renderings,  which 
at  the  time  of  St.  Matthew  were  not  yet  allowed  to  be  written  down, 
formed  the  precedent  for,  if  not  the  basis  of,  our  later  Targum.  In 
short,  at  that  time  each  one  Targumed  for  himself,  and  these  Tar- 
gumim  (as  our  existing  one  on  the  Prophets  shows)  were  neither 
literal  versions,^  nor  yet  paraphrases,  but  something  l)etween  them, 
a  sort  of  interpreting  translation.  That,  when  Targuming,  the  New 
Testament  writers  should  in  preference  make  use  of  such  a  well- 
known  and  widely-spread  version  as  the  Translation  of  the  LXX. 
needs  no  explanation.  That  they  did  not  confine  themselves  to  it, 
but,  when  it  seemed  necessary,  literally  or  Targumically  rendered  a 
verse,  appears  from  the  actual  quotations  in  the  New  Testament. 
Such  Targuming  of  the  Old  Testament  was  entirely  in  accordance 
with  the  then  universal  method  of  setting  Holy  Scripture  before  a 
popular  audience.  It  is  needless  to  remark,  that  the  New  Testament 
writers  would  Targum  as  Christians.  These  remarks  apply  not  only 
to  the  case  under  immediate  consideration,''  but  generally  to  the 
quotations  from  the  Old  Testament  in  the  New.^ 

1  In  point  of  fact,  the  Talmud  ex-  instead  of  "'.?'"N^-'  as  in  o}(r  Hebrew 
pressly  lays  it  down,  tliat  '  whosoever 
targums  a  verse  in  its  closely  literal  form 
[without  due  re;u;ard  to  its  meaning],  is  a 
liar.'  (Kidd.  49  a;  comp.  on  the  subject 
Deutsch's  'Literary  Remains,' p.  327). 

^  The  general  principle,  that  St.'  Mat- 
thew rendered  Mic.  v.  2  farr/Hmically, 
would,  it  seems,  cover  all  the  differences 
between  his  quotation  and  the  Hebrew 
text.  But  it  may  be  worth  while,  in  this 
instance  at  least,  to  examine  the  differ- 
ences in  detail.  Two  of  them  are  trivial, 
viz.,  'Bethlehem,  land  of  Juda,'  instead 
of  'Ephratah;'  'princes'  instead  of 
'thousands,'  though  St.   Matthew  may, 

^JO-siYW^,  have  pointed  *i;rX5  ('princes'), 


as 

text.  Perhaps  he  rendered  the  word 
more  correctly  than  we  do,  since   -"l^N 

means  not  only  a  '  thousand '  but  also  a 
part  of  a  tribe  (Is.  Ix.  22),  a  clan,  or 
Beth  Ahh  fJudg.  vi.  15);  comp.  also 
Numb.  i.  Ifi;  x.  4,  36;  Deut.  xxxiii.  17; 
Josh.  xxii.  21.  30 ;  1  Sam.  x.  19  ;  xxiii.  23 ; 
in  which  case  the  personification  of  these 
'thousands'  (=our  'hundreds')  by  their 
chieftains  or  '  i)rinces  '  would  be  a  very 
apt  Targumic  rendering.  Two  other  of 
the  divergences  are  more  inijiortant,  viz., 
(1) '  Art  not  the  least,'  instead  of  '  though 
thou  be  little.'  But  the  Hel)rew  words 
have   also  been  otherwise  rendered:  in 


THE   STAR   GUIDING   TO   BETHLEHEM.  201 

The  further  conduct  of  Herod  was  in   keeping  with  his  plans,      CHAP. 
He  sent  fur  the  Magi — for  various  reasons,  secretly.    After  ascertain-       viii 

ing  the  precise  time,  when  they  had  first  observed  the  'star,'  he  ^— '^ ' 

directed  them  to  Bethlehem,  with  the  request  to  inform  him  when 
they  had  found  the  Child  ;  on  pretence,  that  he  was  equally  desirous 
with  them  to  pay  Him  homage.  As  they  left  Jerusalem  ^  for  the 
goal  of  their  pilgrimage,  to  their  surprise  and  joy,  the  'star,'  which 
had  attracted  their  attention  at  its  '  rising, '  ^  and  which,  as  seems 
implied  in  the  narrative,  they  had  not  seen  of  late,  once  more 
appeared  on  the  horizon,  and  seemed  to  move  before  them,  till  \  it 
stood  over  where  the  young  child  was ' — that  is,  of  course,  over 
Bethlehem,  not  over  any  special  house  in  it.  Whether  at  a  turn  of 
the  road,  close  to  Bethlehem,  they  lost  sight  of  it,  or  they  no  longer 
heeded  its  position,  since  it  had  seemed  to  go  before  them  to  the  goal 
that  had  been  pointed  out — for,  surely,  they  needed  not  the  star  to 
guide  them  to  Bethlehem — or  whether  the  celestial  phenomenon 
now  disappeared,  is  neither  stated  in  the  Gospel-narrative,  nor  is  in- 
deed of  any  importance.  SuflBcient  for  them,  and  for  us:  they  had 
been  authoritatively  directed  to  Bethlehem;  as  they  had  set  out  for  it, 
the  sidereal  i)henomcnon  had  once  more  appeared;  and  it  had  seemed 
to  go  before  them,  till  it  actually  stood  over  Bethlehem.  And,  since 
in  ancient  times  such  extraordinary  '  guidance '  by  a  '■  star '  was 
matter  of  belief  and  expectancy,^  the  Magi  would,  from  their  stand- 
point, regard  it  as  the  fullest  contirmation  that  they  had  been  rightly 
directed  to  Bethlehem — and  '  they  rejoiced  with  exceeding  great  joy.' 
It  could  not  be  difficult  to  learn  in  Bethlehem,  where  the  Infant, 
around  Whose  Birth  marvels  had  gathered,  might  be  found.  It 
appears  that  the  temporary  shelter  of  the  '■  stable '  had  been  ex- 
changed by  the  Holy  Family  for  the  more  permanent  abode  of  a 
Miouse;  "^  and  there  the  Magi  found  the  Infant-Saviour  with  His  "v.  ii 
Mother.     With  exquisite  tact  and  reverence  the  narrative  attempts 

the  Syriac    interrogath-'clij  ('art  thou  divergence  in  the  latter  part  of  the  verse, 

little?'),  which  suggests  tiie  rendering  of  it  may  be  best  here  sini])ly  to  give  for 

St.  Matthew;  and  in  the  Arabic  just  as  comparison  the  rendering  of  the  passage 

by  St.  Matthew  (vide  PocotV.-,  Porta  Mosis,  in  the  Targum  Jonathan:  '  Out  of  thee 

Notpe,  c.  ii. ;  but  Pocock  does  not  give  shall  come  forth  before  Me  Messiah  to 

the  Targum   accurately).     Credner  in-  exercise  rule  over  Israel.' 

geniously  suggested,  that  the  rendering  ^  Not  necessarily  by  night,  as  most 

of  St.  Matthew  may  have  been  caused  writers  suppose. 

by  a  Targumic  rendering  of  the  Hebrew  ^  So  correctly,  and  not  'in  the  East,' 

T^J?^  by  n*rT2 ;  but  he  does  not  seem  to  as  in  A.V. 

,      ''     \.     1   .,.-,..    ,,         .     ,  =*  Proof  of  this  is  abundantlv  furnished 

have  noticed,  that  this  IS  the  rtc^?m<  ren-  i,„  ti- y  /  ■     x^,,,.   t^^*   i   ;    .>.>  ol-.^^^A 

1    .       .     .,     rn              T             ii,  by  netsteiit,  Nov.  lest.  t.  i.  pp.  24/  and 

denng  in  the  Targum  Jon.  on  the  pass-  24Q                                                 • 

age.    As  for  the  second  and  more  serious 


208  PROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      not  the  faintest  description  of  the  scene.     It  is  as  if  tiie  sacred  writer 
11         had  fully  entered  into  the  spirit  of  St,   Paul,  '  Yea,  though  we  have 
^- — --, — '   known  Christ  after  the  liesh,  3  et  now  henceforth  know  we  Him  no 
"2Cor.  V      inore.""    And  thus  it  should  ever  be.     It  is  the  great  fact  of  the 
manifestation  of  Christ — not  its  outward  surroundings,  however  pre- 
cious or  touching  they  might  be  in  connection  with  any  ordinary 
earthly  being — to  which  our  gaze  nmst  be  directed.     The  externals 
may,  indeed,  attract  our  sensuous  nature;  but  they  detract  from  the 
unmatched  glory  of  the  great  supersensuous  Reality.^      Around  the 
Person  of  the  God-Man.  in  the  hour  when  the  homage  of  the  heathen 
world  was  first  offered  Him,  we  need  not,  and  want  not,  the  drapery 
of  outward  circumstances.     That  scene  is  best  realized,  not  by  de- 
scription, but  by  silently  joining  in  the  silent  homage  and  the  silent 
offerings  of  'the  wise  men  from  the  East.' 

Before  proceeding  further,  we  must  ask  ourselves  two  questions: 
AVhat  relationship  does  this  narrative  bear  to  Jewish  expectancy? 
and.  Is  there  any  astronomical  confirmation  of  this  account?  Besides 
their  intrinsic  interest,  the  answer  to  the  first  question  will  deter- 
mine, whether  any  legendary  basis  could  be  assigned  to  the  narrative; 
while  on  the  second  will  depend,  whether  the  account  can  be  truth- 
fully charged  with  an  accommodation  on  the  part  of  God  to  the 
superstitions  and  errors  of  astrology.  For,  if  the  whole  was  extra- 
natural,  and  the  sidereal  appearance  specially  produced  in  order  to 
meet  the  astrological  views  of  the  Magi,  it  would  not  be  a  sutlicient 
answer  to  the  difficulty,  '  that  great  catastrophes  and  unusual  plie- 
nomena  in  nature  have  synchronised  in  a  remarkable  manner  with 
great  events  in  human  history. '  ^  On  the  other  hand,  if  the  sidereal 
appearance  was  not  of  supernatural  origin,  and  would  equally  have 
taken  place  whether  or  not  there  had  been  Magi  to  direct  to  Beth- 
lehem, the  difficulty  is  not  only  entirely  removed,  but  tlie  narrative 
affords  another  instance,  alike  of  the  condescension  of  God  to  the 
lower  standpoint  of  the  Magi,  and  of  His  wisdom  and  goodness  in 
the  combination  of  circumstances. 

As  regards  the  question  of  Jewish  expectancy,  sufficient  has  been 
said  in  the  preceding  pages,  to  show  that  Rabbinism  looked  for  a 
very  difierent  kind  and  manner  of  the  world's  homage  to  the  Messiah 

1  In   this  seems  lo  lie  tlie   stron^cest  to  us  the  spiritual,  nor  .vet  tluis  tliat  the 

condemnation  of  Romish  and  Romanis-  deepest  and  holiest  inijiressionsare^made. 

ing  tendencies,  that  they  ever  seek  to  True  religion  is  ever  ohjcctivistic,  'sensu- 

present — or,   perhaps,  rather  obtrude —  ous  snirjectiristic. 
the  external  circumstances.     It  is  not  ^  Archdeacon  Farrar. 

thus  tluit  the  Gospel  most  fully  presents 


JEWISH  ASTROLOGY.  209 

than  that  of  a  few  Magi,  guided  hy  a  star  to  His  Infant-Home.  chap. 
Indeed,  so  far  from  serving  as  historical  basis  for  the  origin  of  such  a       viii 

*  legend, '  a  more  gross  caricature  of  Jewish  Messianic  anticipation  ^- — ~^r — ' 
could  scarcely  be  imagined.     Similarly  futile  would  it  l)e  to  seek  a 

background  for  this  narrative  in  Balaam's  prediction  *  since  it  is  in-  ='Numb. 

.  .  ,     .         xxiv.  17 

credible  that  any  one  could  have  understood  it  as  referring  to  a  brief 
sidereal  apparition  to  a  few  Magi,  in  order  to  bring  them  to  look  for 
the  Messiah.^  Nor  can  it  be  represented  as  intended  to  fulfil  the 
prophecy  of  Isaiah/"'  that  '  they  shall  bring  gold  and  incense,  and  mx.  eiast 
they  shall  show  forth  the  praises  of  the  Lord.'  For,  supi)Osing  this 
figurative  language  to  have  been  grossly  literaliscd,^  what  would  be- 
come of  the  other  part  of  that  prophecy,*  which  must,  of  course, 
have  been  treated  in  the  same  manner;  not  to  speak  of  the  fact,  that 
the  whole  evidently  refers  not  to  the  Messiah  (least  of  all  in  His  In- 
fancy), but  to  Jerusalem  in  her  latter-day  glory.  Thus,  we  fail  to 
perceive  any  historical  basis  for  a  legendary  origin  of  St.  Matthew's 
narrative,  either  in  the  Old  Testament  or,  still  less,  in  Jewish  tradi- 
tion. And  we  are  warranted  in  asking:  If  the  account  be  not  true, 
what  rational  explanation  can  be  given  of  its  origin,  since  its  invention 
would  never  have  occurred  to  any  contemporary  Jew? 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  seems,  indeed,  no  logical  connection 
between  this  astrological  interpretation  of  the  Magi,  and  any  supposed 
practice  of  astrology  among  the  Jews.  Yet,  strange  to  say,  writers 
have  largely  insisted  on  this.^  The  charge  is,  to  say  the  least,  grossly 
exaggerated.  That  Jewish — as  other  Eastern — impostors  pretended 
to  astrological  knowledge,  and  that  such  investigations  may  have  been 
secretly  carried  on  by  certain  Jewish  students,  is  readily  admitted. 

'  Strauss  (Lebeu  Jesu,  i.  pp.  224-249)  daries,'  the  'flocks of  Kedar  and  the  rams 

finds  a  legendary  basis  for  the  Evangelic  of  Nebaioth '  (v.  7),  and  'the  isles,' and 

account  in  Numb.  xxiv.  17,  and  also  a])-  '  the  ships  of  Tarshish '  (v.  9). 
peals  to  the  legendary  stories  of  profane         ''  The  subject  of  Jewish   astrology  is 

writers  about  stars  appearing  at  the  birth  well  treated  by  Dr.  Hamburger,  both  in 

of  great  men.  the  tirst  and  second  volumes  of  his  Real- 

'^  Keim  (Jesu  von  Nazara,  i.  2,  p.  377)  Encykl.     The   ablest  summary,    though 

drops  the  appeal  to  legends  of  profane  brief,  is  that  in   Dr.  Gideon   Brecker's 

writers,  ascribes  only  a  secondary  influ-  book,  '  Das  Transcendentale  im  Talmud.' 

ence  to  Numb.   xxiv.  17,  and  lays  the  (r/Vd>'er  is,  as  usually,  one-sided,  and  not 

main  stress  of  'the  legend' on  Is.  Ix. —  always  trustworthy  in  his  translations.   A 

with  what  success  the  reader  may  judge.  curious  brochure   by  Kabbi   T/ai//  (Der 

•*  Can  it  be  imagined  that  any  person  Talmud,  od.  das  Prinzi])  d.  planet.  Einfl.) 

would   invent   such   a    'legend'  on    the  is  one  of  the  boldest  attempts  at  special 

strengtli  of  Is.  Ix.  6  ?  On  the  otiier  liand,  i)leading,  to  the  ignoration  of  palpable 

if  the  event  really  took  place,  it  is  easy  facts  on  the  other  side.     Ha nsra f //' s  d'lc- 

to  understand  how  Cliristian  symbolism  ta  on  this  subject  are,  as  on  many  others, 

would — (liough   uncritically — have  seen  assertions  unsupported  by  historical  evi- 

an  adumbration  of  it  in  that  prophecy.  deuce. 

*  The  '  multitude  of  camels  and  drome- 


210 


FI{(>^r  i!i':TiTT>KiTr:M  to  Jordan. 


BOOK 

II 

"  Deb.  K.  8 

''  Comp. 
Shabb.  75  a 

•■  See  for  ex. 
Jns.  War 
vi.  .").  3 

'1  Shabb. 
l.'>6a 


'  Moed  K. 
16  (t 


t^  Shabb.  145 
h:  146  a 
ooinp.Yeb. 
103  ft 

!■  Moed  K. 
2K  a 

'  Comp. 
Baba  K. 
2  ft :  Shabb. 
121  ft 

k  Ned.  39  ft 


But  tlic  languaf>;c  ol'disapijroval  in  wliicli  these  i)ursuits  are  rclerred  to 
— such  as  that  knowh'dgc  of  the  Law  is  not  Ibund  witli  astrologers" — 
and  the  emphatic  statement,  that  he  who  learned  even  one  thing  from 
a  Mage  deserved  death,  show  what  views  were  autlioritatively  held."^ 
Of  course,  the  Jews  (or  many  of  them),  like  most  ancients,  believed 
in  the  influence  of  the  planets  upon  the  destiny  of  man."  But  it  was 
a  princii)le  strongly  expressed,  and  frequently  illustrated  in  the  Tal- 
mud, that  such  planetary  influence  did  not  extend  to  Israel.''  It  must 
be  admitted,  that  this  was  not  always  consistently  carried  out;  and 
there  were  Rabbis  who  computed  a  man's  future  from  the  constellation 
(the  Ilazzal),  either  of  the  day,  or  the  hour,  under  which  he  was  born." 
It  was  supposed,  that  some  persons  had  a  star  of  their  own,^andthe 
(representative)  stars  of  all  proselytes  were  said  to  have  been  present 
at  Mount  Sinai.  Accordingly,  they  also,  like  Israel,  had  lost  the 
defilement  of  the  serpent  (sin).^  One  Rabbi  even  had  it,  that  success, 
wisdom,  the  duration  of  life,  and  a  posterity,  depended  upon  the  con- 
stellation." Such  views  were  carried  out  till  they  merged  in  a  kind 
of  fatalism,*  or  else  in  the  idea  of  a  '  natal  affinity,'  by  which  persons 
born  under  the  same  constellation  were  thought  to  stand  in  sympathetic 
rajyport.^     The  further  statement,  that  conjunctions  of  the  planets^ 


1  I  cannot,  however,  see  that  Buxtorf 
charges  so  many  Rahbis  with  giving 
themselves  to  astrology  as  Dr.  Geikie 
imputes  to  him — nor  how  Hidithol'lt  can 
be  quoted  as  corroborating  tlie  Chinese 
record  of  tlie  appearance  of  a  new  star 
in  750  (see  the  passage  in  tlie  Cosmos, 
Engl,  transl.  vol.  i.  pp.  92,  93). 

^  Jewish  astronomy  distinguishes  the 
seven  planets  (called  '  wandering  stars  ') ; 
the  twelve  signs  of  the  Zodiac,  Mnzzaloth 
(Aries,  Taurus,  Gemini,  Cancer,  Leo, 
Virgo,  Libra,  Scorpio,  Sagittarius,  Cap- 
ricornus,  Aquarius,  Pisces) — arranged  by 
astrologers  into  four  trigons :  that  of  fire 
(1,  5,  9);  of  earth  (2,  6,l0);  of  air  (.3,  7, 
11);  and  of  water  (4,  8,  12);  and  the 
stars.  The  Kabbalistic  book  Raziel  (dat- 
ing from  the  eleventh  century)  arranges 
them  into  three  quadrons.  The  comets, 
wliich  are  called  arrows  or  star-rods, 
proved  a  great  difficulty  to  students.  The 
planets  (in  their  order)  were:  Shnhha- 
Ihiii  (the  Sabbatic,  Saturn)  ;  Tsedeq 
(righteousness,  Jupiter);  Maadim  (the 
red,  blood-coloured.  Mars);  Chammah 
(the  Sun);  Nor/ah  (splendour,  Venus); 
CnkhiiJ)h  (the  star.  Mercury);  Lebhnnah 
(the  .Moon).  Kabbalistic  works  depict  our 
system  as  a  ciirle,  the  lower  arc  consist- 


ing of  Oceanos,  and  the  upper  tilled  by 
the  sphere  of  the  earth ;  next  comes  that 
of  the  surrounding  atmosi)here ;  then  suc- 
cessively the  seven  semicircles  of  the 
l)lanets,  each  fitting  on  the  other — to  use 
the  Kabbalistic  illustration — like  the  suc- 
cessive layers  in  an  onion  (see  Sepher 
Raziel,  ed.  Lemb.  1873,  pj).  9  b,  10  a). 
Day  and  night  were  divided  each  into 
twelve  hours  (from  6  a.m.  to  6  p.m.,  and 
from  6  P.M.  to  6  a.m.^.  Each  hour  was 
under  the  influence  of  successive  planets : 
tluis,  Sundaij,  7  a.m.,  the  Sun;  8  a.m., 
Venus;  9  a.m.,  Mercury;  10  a.m.,  Moon; 
11  a.m.,  Saturn;  12  a.m.,  Jupiter,  and  so 
on.  Similarly,  we  have  for  Monday,  7 
A.M.,  the  Moon.  <tc. ;  for  Tuesdaji.  7  a.m., 
Mars;  for  Wednesday,  7  a.m..  Mercury; 
for  Thursday,  7  a.m.,  Jupiter;  for  Friday, 
7  A.M.,  Venus;  and  for  Sado-day,  7  a.m., 
Saturn.  Most  important  were  the  Tequ- 
phnth,  in  wliich  tlie  Sun  entered  respec- 
tively Aries  (Tek.  Xisan,  spring-equinox, 
'  harvest '),  Cancer  (Tek.  Tammuz,  sum- 
mer solstice,  '  warmth'),  Libra  (Tek.  Tish- 
ri,  autumn-equinox,  seed-time),  Capri- 
cornus  (Tek.  Tehlieth,  winter-solstice, 
'cold').  Comp.  Targ.  Pseudo-.Ion.  on 
Gen.  viii.  22.  From  one  Tequphah  to 
the  other  were  91  days  7|  hours.     By  a 


THE   EXl'EOTATION    OF   A    'STAR.'  211 

affected  the  products  of  the  earth  "■  is  scarcely  astrological ;  nor  per- 
haps this,  that  an  eclipse  of  the  sun  betokened  evil  to  the  nations,  an 
eclipse  of  the  moon  to  Israel,  because  the  former  calculated  time  by 
the  sun,  the  latter  by  the  moon. 

But  there  is  one  illustrative  Jewish  statement  wliich,  though  not 
astrological,  is  of  the  greatest  importance,  although  it  seems  to  have 
been  hitherto  overlooked.  Since  the  ai)pearance  of  Munter'n  well 
known  tractate  on  the  Star  of  the  Magi,^  writers  have  endeavoured 
to  show,  that  Jewish  expectancy  of  a  Messiah  was  connected  with  a 
peculiar  sidereal  conjunction,  such  as  that  which  occurred  two  years 
before  the  birth  of  our  Lord,''  and  this  on  the  ground  of  a  quotation  ^in  747 

.  ,       ;  1  A.u.c,  or 

from  the  well-known  Jewish  commentator  Abarbanel  (or  rather  Abra-  tb.c. 
hanel)."     In  his  Commentarv  on  Daniel  that  Rabbi  laid  it   down,    ■=  Born  1437. 

•  •  '  1     ,  -1  n       •  T»-  died  1508 

that  the  conjunction  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn  in  the  constellation  risccs 
betokened  not  only  the  most  important  events,  but  referred  especially 
to  Israel  (for  which  he  gives  live  mystic  reasons).  He  further  argues 
that,  as  that  conjunction  had  taken  place  three  years  before  the  birth 
of  Moses,  which  heralded  the  first  deliverance  of  Israel,  so  it  would 
also  precede  the  birth  of  the  Messiah,  and  the  final  deliverance  of 
Israel.  But  the  argument  fails,  not  only  because  Abarbanel's  calcu- 
lations are  inconclusive  and  even  erroneous,'^  but  because  it  is  mani- 
festly unfair  to  infer  the  state  of  Jewish  belief  at  the  time  of  Christ 
from  a  haphazard  astrological  conceit  of  a  Rabbi  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury. There  is,  however,  testimony  which  seems  to  us  not  only  reliable, 
but  embodies  most  ancient  Jewish  tradition.  It  is  contained  in  one 
of  the  smaller  MidrasJdm,  of  which  a  collection  has  lately  been  pub- 
lished.* On  account  of  its  importance,  one  quotation  at  least  from  it 
should  be  made  in  full.  The  so-called  Messiah-Haggadah  {Aggadoth 
MasMach)  opens  as  follows:  M  star  shall  come  out  of  Jacob.  There  is 
a  Boraita  in  the  name  of  the  Rabbis :  The  heptad  in  which  the  Son  of 
David  Cometh — in  the  first  year,  there  will  not  l)e  sufficient  nourish- 

beautiful  figure  the  sundust  is  called  '  fil-  the  uiitrustworthhiess  of  such  a  testi- 
ino;s  of  the  day'  (as  the  word  tvana —  mony,  it  is  necessary  to  study  tlie  liistory 
that  wliicli  falls  off  from  the  sun  wheel  as  of  the  astronomical  and  astrolojiical  pur- 
it  turns  (Yonui20  h).  suits  of  the  Jews  durinu'  Ihat  period,  of 

1  '  Der  Stern  derWeisen,' Copenha,2;en,  which  a  masterly  summary  is  iiiven  in 
1827.  The  tractate,  though  so  frequently  Steiuschneider's  History  of  Jewish  Liter- 
quoted,  seems  scarcely  to  have  been  sutti-  ature  {Ersch  u.  Gruber,  Encykl.  vol. 
ciently  studied,  most  writers  havino-  xxvii.).  Comp.  also  Sachs,  Relig.  Poes. 
apparently  rather  read  the  references  to  d.  Juden  in  Spanien,  pp.  2.S0  .fee. 
it  in  Meier's  Handb.  d.  Math.  u.  techn.  -^  By  Dr.  Jellinek,  in  a  work  in  six 
Chronol.  Mi^/er's  work  contains  much  parts,  entitled  'Beth  lux-Midrash,' Leipz. 
that  is  interesting  and  important.  and  Vienna,  1853-1878. 

^  To  form  an  adequate  conception  of 


212  FROM    BKTIILEIIE.M    TO    .lOliDAN. 

BOOK      nicnt;  in  the  second  year  the  arrows  of  famine  are  hiiinched;   in  the 
n         </iir(Z, a  great  famine;  in  the  fourth,  neither  famine  nor  plenty;  in  the 
'^•^-^r — '  fifth,  great  abundance,  and  the  Star  shall  shine  forth,  from  the  East, 
and  this  is  the  Star  of  the  Messiah.     And  it  will  ^^hinc  from  the  East- 
for  fifteen  days,  and  if  it  be  prolonged,  it  will  be  for  the  good  of  Israel; 
in  the  sixth,  sayings  (voices),  and  announcements  (hearings);  in  the 
seventh,  wars,  and  at  the  close  of  the  seventh  the  Messiah  is  to  be 
expected.'     A  similar  statement  occurs  at  the  close  of  a  collection  of 
three  Midrashim — respectively  entitled,  'The  Book  of  Elijah,'  'Chap- 
ters about  the  Messiah,'  and  'The  Mysteries  of  II.  Simon,  the  son  oi" 
»jeiiinek,     Jochai '  " — whcrc  we  read  that  a  Star  in  the  East  was  to  appear  two 
Mi.irash,      years  before  the  birth  of  the  Messiah.      The  statement  is  almost 
8  '   '   equally  remarkable,  whether  it  represents  a  tradition  previous  to  tlie 

birth  of  Jesus,  or  originated  after  that  event.  But  two  years  before 
the  birth  of  Christ,  which,  as  we  have  calculated,  took  place  in 
December  749  a.u.c,  or  5  before  the  Christian  era,  brings  us  to  the 
year  747  a.u.c,  or  7  before  Christ,  in  which  such  a  Star  should  ap- 
pear in  the  East.^ 

Did  such  a  Star,  then,  really  appear  in  the  East  seven  years  before 
the  Christian  era?  Astronomically  speaking,  and  without  any  refer- 
ence to  controversy,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  tlie  most  remarkable 
conjunction  of  planets — that  of  Jupiter  and  Saturn  in  the  constella- 
tion of  Pisces,  which  occurs  only  once  in  800  years — (ZicZ  take  place  no 
less  than  three  times  in  the  year  747  a.  u.  c.  ,  or  two  years  before  the  birth 
of  Christ  (in  May,  October  and  December).  This  conjunction  is  ad- 
mitted by  all  astronomers.  It  was  not  only  extraordinary,  but 
presented  the  most  brilliant  spectacle  in  the  night-sky,  such  as  could 
not  but  attract  the  attention  of  all  who  watched  the  sidereal  heavens, 
but  especially  of  those  who  busied  themselves  with  astrology.  In  the 
year  following,  that  is,  in  748  a.u.c,  another  planet.  Mars,  joined 
this  conjunction.  The  merit  of  first  discovering  these  facts — of  which 
it  is  unnecessary  here  to  present  the  literary  history  ^ — belongs  to  the 

1  It  would,   of  course,  be  possible  to  would  have  been  emphasized,  instead  of 

argue,  that  the  Evangelic  account  arose  being,  as  now,  rather  matter  of  inference, 

from   this  Jewish    tradition   about    the  ^  The  chief  writers  on  the  subject  have 

appearance  of  a  star  two  years  1)efore  the  been :  Munter{\\.^.],Idder  (u.s.)-and  H7e- 

blrtli  of  the  Messiah.     But  it  has  been  .s-i^/^z-fCln-onol.  Synopsed.  4  Evang.('lS43), 

already  shown,  that  the   liypothesis  of  a  and  again  in  Ilerznrfs  Real-Enc.  vol.  xxi. 

Jewish  legendary  origin  is  utterly  un-  j).  544,  and  finally  in  his  Beitr.  z.  Wiird.  d. 

tenable.     Besides,  if  St.  Matthew  ii.  had  Ev.  1S(;9).  In  our  own  country,  writers 

been  derived  from  this  tradition,  the  nar-  have,  since  the  appearance  of  Professor 

rative  would  have  l)een  quite  difierently  PritcharcVs  axi.  (' Star  of  the  Wise  Men') 

shai)ed,    and    more   especially   the    two  in  Dr.  Sviith's  Bilde  Diet.  vol.  iii.,  gener- 

years'  interval  between  the  rising  of  the  ally  given  up  the  astronomical  argument, 

star   and-  che   Advent    of    the    Messiah  without,     however,     clearly     indicating 


CONJUNCTION   OF   PLANETS   AT   THE    BIRTH    OF   CHRIST.  213 

great  Kepler,"-  who,  accordingly,  i)lace<l  the  Nativity  of  Christ  in  the  CHAP, 
year  748  a.u.c.  This  date,  however,  is  not  only  well  nigh  inipos-  viii 
sible;  but  it  has  also  been  shown  that  such  a  conjunction  would,  for  ' — ^i' — ' 
various  reasons,  not  answer  the  requirements  of  the  Evan<i:('lical  narra-  "  oesteiia 
tive,  so  far  as  the  guidance  to  Bethlehem  is  concerned.  But  it  does  fully  irag®,  i6u6 
account  for  the  attention  of  the  Magi  being  aroused,  and — even  if  they 
had  not  possessed  knowledge  of  the  Jewish  expectancy  above  described 
—for  their  making  inquiry  of  all  around,  and  certainly,  among  others, 
of  the  Jews.  Here  we  leave  the  domain  of  the  certain,  and  enter 
upon  that  of  the  %)robaMe.  Kepler,  who  was  led  to  the  discovery  by 
observing  a  similar  conjunction  in  1603-4,  also  noticed,  that  when 
the  three  planets  came  into  conjunction,  a  new,  extraordinary,  bril- 
liant, and  peculiarly  colored  evanescent  star  was  visible  between  Ju- 
piter and  Saturn,  and  he  suggested  that  a  similar  star  had  appeared 
under  the  same  circumstances  in  the  conjunction  preceding  the  Nati- 
vity. Of  this,  of  course,  there  is  not,  and  cannot  be,  absolute  certainty. 
But,  if  so,  this  would  be  '  the  star '  of  the  Magi,  '  in  its  rising. '  There 
is  yet  another  remarkable  statement,  which,  however,  must  also  be 
assigned  only  to  the  domain  of  the  i^robable.  In  the  astronomical  tables 
of  the  Chinese — to  whose  general  trustworthiness  so  high  an  authority 
as  Humboldt  bears  testimony  ^' — the  appearance  of  an  evanescent  star  •=  cosmos. 
was  noted.  Pingre  and  others  have  designated  it  as  a  comet,  and  cal- 
culated its  first  appearance  in  February  750  a.u.c,  which  is  just 
the  time  when  the  Magi  would,  in  all  probability,  leave  Jerusalem 
for  Bethlehem,  since  this  must  have  preceded  the  death  of  Herod, 
which  took  place  in  March  750.  Moreover,  it  has  been  astronomically 
ascertained,  that  such  a  sidereal  apparition  would  be  visible  to  those 
who  left  Jerusalem,  and  that  it  would  point — almost  seem  to  go  before 
— in  the  direction  of,  and  stand  over,  Bethlehem.^  Such,  impartially 
stated,  are  the  facts  of  the  case — and  here  the  subject  must,  in  the 
present  state  of  our  information,  be  left.^ 

Only  two  things  are  recorded  of  this  visit  of  the  Magi  to  Beth- 
lehem: their  humblest  Eastern  homage,  and  their  offerings.^   Viewed 

whether  tliey  reijanl  the  star  as  a  mirac-  tion  of  the  narrative  in  St.  ^fatthew. 

vlous  <inidance.     I   do  not,    of  course,  ^  By  the  astronomer.  Dr.  (loldsehmidt. 

presume  to  enter  on  an  astronomical  dis-  (See  Wieseler,  Chron.  Syn.  ]).  72.) 

eussion  with  Professor  Pritcliard;  hut  as  '^  A  somewhat   difl'erent   view  is  ])re- 

his  reasonini;  i)roceeds  on   the  idea  that  sented    in   the    laborious    and    learned 

the  planetary  conjunction  of  747  A.u.c,  is  edition   of  the   New  Testament  liy   Mr. 

regarded  as  'the   Star  of  the  Ma^i,'  his  Brown  McCIeUan  (vol.  i.  pp.  400-402). 

arguments   do   not  apply  either  to   the  ^  Our  A.V.   curiously  translates  in  v. 

view  jn-esented  in  the  text  nor  even  to  11,     'treasures,'    instead    of    'treasury- 

that  of  W'ieseler.     Besides.  I  must  ciis^i'd  cases.'     The   exjiression   is  exactly  the 

myself  a.ijainst  accepting  his  interprela-  same  as  in  Dent,  xxviii.  12,  for  which  the 


214  FROM    liETHLKlIEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK  iis  gifts,  the  incense  and  the  myrrh  would,  indeed,  have  been  strangely 
II  inai)propriate.  But  their  offerings  were  evidently  intended  as  speci- 
^^ — -r — '  mens  of  the  products  of  their  country,  and  tlieir  presentation  was, 
even  as  in  our  own  days,  expressive  of  the  homage  of  their  country  to 
the  new-found  King.  In  this  sense,  then,  the  Magi  may  truly  be 
regarded  as  the  representatives  of  the  Gentile  world;  their  homage 
as  the  first  and  typical  acknowledgment  of  Christ  by  those  who 
hitherto  had  been  '  far  off; '  and  their  offerings  as  symbolic  of  the 
world's  tribute.  This  deeper  significance  the  ancient  Church  has 
rightly  apprehended,  though,  perhaps,  mistaking  its  grounds.  Its 
symbolism^  twining,  like  the  convolvulus,  around  the  Divine  Plant,  has 
traced  in  the  gold  the  emblem  of  His  Royalty;  in  the  myrrh,  of 
His  Humanity,  and  that  in  the  fullest  evidence  of  it,  in  His  burying; 
and  in  the  incense,  that  of  His  Divinity.' 

As  always  in  the  history  of  Christ,  so  here  also,  glory  and  suffer- 
ing appear  in  juxtaposition.  It  could  not  be,  that  these  Magi  should 
become  the  innocent  instruments  of  Herod's  murderous  designs;  nor 
yet  that  the  Infant-Saviour  should  fall  a  victim  to  the  tyrant.  Warned 
of  God  in  a  dream,  the  '  wise  men  '  returned  '  into  their  own  country 
another  way; '  and,  warned  by  the  angel  of  the  Lord  in  a  dream,  the 
Holy  Family  sought  temporary  shelter  in  Egypt.  Baffled  in  the  hope 
of  attaining  his  object  tlirough  the  Magi,  the  reckless  tyrant  sought 
to  secure  it  l:)y  an  indiscriminate  slaughter  of  all  the  children  in 
Bethlehem  and  its  immediate  neighborhood,  from  two  years  and 
under.  True,  considering  the  population  of  Bethlehem,  their  number 
could  only  have  ])een  small,  probably  twenty  at  most.'-  But  the 
deed  was  none  the  less  atrocious;  and  these  infants  may  justly  be 
regarded  as  the  '  protomartyrs, '  the  first  witnesses,  of  Christ,  'the 
blossom  of  martyrdom '  ('  fiores  martyrum,'  as  Prudentius  calls  them). 
The  slaughter  was  entirely  in  accordance  with  the  character  and 
former  measures  of  Herod.  ^  Xor  do  we  wonder,  that  it  remained 
unrecorded  by  Josephus,  since  on  other  occasions  also  he  has  omitted 

LXX.  use  the  same  words  as  the  Evan-  ^  So  Archdeacon  Farrar  rightly  com- 

gelist.     The  exi)ression   is  also  used  in  putes  it. 

this  sense  in  the  Apocr.  and  b.v  profane  ^  An  illustrative  instance  of  the  ruth- 
writers.  Corap.  Wetstein  and  Meyer  ad  less  destruction  of  whole  families  on 
locum.  Jewish  tradition  also  expresses  suspicion  that  his  crown  was  in  danger, 
the  expectancy  that  the  nations  of  the  occurs  in  Ant.  xv.  8.  4.  But  the  sugges- 
world  would  offer  gifts  unto  the  Messiah,  tion  that  Bagoas  had  suffered  at  the 
(Comp.  Pes.  118  h\  Ber.  R.  78.)  hands  of  Herod  for  Messianic  predictions 
'  So  not  only  in  ancient  hymns  (h\  is  entirely  an  invention  of  Keim.  (Schen- 
Sedidins,  Juvenciis.  and  ChnLdian),  but  kel,  Bibel  Lex.,  vol.  iii.  p.  37.  Comp. 
by  the  Fathers  and  later  writers.  (Comp.  Ant.  xvli.  2.  4.) 
Sepp,  Leben  Jesu,  ii.  1,  pp.  102,  103.) 


MURDER   OF   THE   INNOCENTS,    AND    FLIGHT   LNTO   EGYPT.  215 

events  wiiich  to  U8  seem  iiiipoi'tunt.'      The  murder  ol"  a  lew  infants  in      CIIAP. 
an  insignitieant  village  might  appt-ar  searcely  worth  notiee  in  a  reign       Viii 
stained  by  so  mueh  bloodshed.     Besides,  he  had,  perha])s,  a  special   ^— ^r — ^ 
motive  for  this  silence.     Josephus    always  carefully  sui)i)resses,  so 
far  as  possible,  all  that  refers  to  the  Christ'' — i)rol)al)ly  not  only  in 
accordance  with  his  own  religious  views,  but  because  mention  of  a 
Christ  might  have  been  dangerous,   certainly  would  liave  been  in- 
convenient, in  a  work  written  l)y  an  intense  self-seeker,  mainly  for 
readers  in  Rome. 

Of  two  passages  in  his  own  Old  Testament  Scriptures  the  Evan- 
gelist sees  a  fulfilment  in  these  events.  The  flight  into  P^gypt  is  to 
him  the  fulfilment  of  this  expression  by  Hosea,  '  Out  of  P^gypt  have 
I  called  My  Son.'='  In  the  murder  of  'the  Innocents,'  he  sees  the  "Hos.  xi.  i 
fulfilment  of  Rachel's  lament"  (who  died  and  was  buried  in  Ramah)^  'Jer.  xxxi 
over  her  children,  the  men  of  Benjamin,  when  the  exiles  to  Babylon 
met  in  Ramah, "  and  there  was  bitter  wailing  at  the  prospect  ofi)art-  'Jer.  xi.  i 
ing  for  hopeless  captivity,  and  yet  bitterer  lament,  as  they  who  might 
have  encumbered  the  onward  nmrch  were  pitilessly  slaughtered. 
Those  who  have  attentively  followed  the  course  of  Jewish  thinking, 
and  marked  how  the  ancient  Synagogue,  and  that  rightly,  read  the 
Old  Testament  in  its  unity,  as  ever  pointing  to  the  Messiah  as  the 
fulfilment  of  Israel's  history,  will  not  wonder  at,  Init  fully  accord 
with,  St.  Matthew's  retrospective  view.  The  words  of  Hosea  were 
in  the  highest  sense  '  fulfilled '  in  the  flight  to,  and  return  of,  the 
Saviour  from  Egypt.*  To  an  inspired  writer,  nay,  to  a  true  Jewish 
reader  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  fjuestion  in  regard  to  any  prophecy 
could  not  be:  What  did  the  jy^ophet — but,  What  did  the  prophecy 
— mean?  And  this  could  only  be  unfolded  in  the  course  of  Israel's 
history.  Similarly,  those  who  ever  saw  in  the  past  the  prototyi)e  of 
the  future,  and  recognised  in  events,  not  only  the  principle,  but  the 
ver}^  features,  of  that  which  was  to  come,  could  not  fail  to  perceive, 
in  the  bitter  wail  of  the  mothers  of  Bethlehem  over  their  slaughtered 
childi'en,  the  full  realisation  of  the  prophetic  description  of  the  scene 

1  There   are,   in   Josephus'  history  of  '^  See  the  evidence  for  it  summarized 

Herod,   besides   omissions,    inconsisten-  in  '  Sl^etches  of  Jewish  Social  Life  iu  the 

cies  of  narrative,  sucii  as  about  the  exe-  Days  of  Christ,'  i).  (JO. 

cutionof  Mariamnie  (Ant.  XV.  3,  5-9  itc. ;  *  In  point  of  fact  the  ancient  Syna- 

comi).  War  i.  22.  3,  4),  and  of  chronoloijy  ,c;ogue  did  actually  apply  to  the  Messiah 

(as  War  i.  18.  2,  comp.  v.  9.  4;  Ant.  xiv.  Ex.  iv.  22,  on  which  the  words  of  Hosea 

16.  2,  comp.  XV.  1.  2,  and  others.)  are  based.     See  the  Midrash  on  Ps.  ii.  7. 

^  Comp.    on   article   on   Josephus    in  The  quotation  is  given   in    full   in  our 

Smith  and    Wace's    Diet,    of    Christian  remarks  on  Ps.  ii.  7  in  Appendix  IX. 
Biogr. 


216 


FROM    Hi:TIILEIIEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK  enacted  in  Jeremiah's  days.  Had  not  the  propliet  himself  heard,  in 
n         the  lament  oi'  the  captives  to  Babylon,  the  echoes  of  Rachel's  voice  in 

— r- — '  the  past?  In  neither  one  nor  the  other  case  had  the  utterances  of  the 
prophets  (Hosea  and  Jeremiah)  hecn predictions:  they  ware  prophetic. 
In  neither  one  nor  the  other  case  was  the  'fulfilment'  literal:  it  was 
Scriptural,  and  that  in  the  truest  Old  Testament  sense. 


THE   DEATH   OF   HEROD. 


217 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  CHILD-LIFE  IN  NAZARETH. 
(St.  Matt.  ii.  19-23;  St.  Luke  ii.  39,  40.) 

The  stay  of  the  Holy  Family  in  Egypt  must  have  been  of  brief  chap. 
duration.  The  cup  of  Herod's  misdeeds,  but  also  of  his  misery,  was  IX 
full.  During  the  whole  latter  part  of  his  life,  the  dread  of  a  rival  ^-^ — -.^-- 
to  the  throne  had  haunted  him,  and  he  had  sacrificed  thousands, 
among  them  those  nearest  and  dearest  to  him,  to  lay  that  ghost.  ^  And 
still  the  tyrant  was  not  at  rest.  A  more  terrible  scene  is  not  pre- 
sented in  history  than  that  of  the  closing  days  of  Herod.  Tormented 
by  nameless  fears;  ever  and  again  a  prey  to  vain  remorse,  when  he 
would  frantically  call  for  his  passionately-loved,  murdered  wife 
Mariamme,  and  her  sons;  even  making  attempts  on  his  own  life; 
the  delirium  of  tyranny,  the  passion  for  blood,  drove  him  to  the  verge 
of  madness.  The  most  loathsome  disease,  such  as  can  scarcely  be 
described,  had  fastened  on  his  body,^  and  his  sufferings  were  at  times 
agonizing.  By  the  advice  of  his  physicians,  he  had  himself  carried 
to  the  baths  of  Callirhoe  (east  of  the  Jordan^,  trying  all  remedies 
with  the  determination  of  one  who  will  do  hard  battle  for  life.  It 
was  in  vain.  The  namelessly  horrible  distemper,  which  had  seized  the 
old  man  of  seventy,  held  him  fast  in  its  grasp,  and,  so  to  speak, 
played  death  on  the  living.  He  knew  it,  that  his  hour  was  come, 
and  had  himself  conveyed  back  to  his  palace  under  the  palm-trees 
of  Jericho.  They  had  known  it  also  in  Jerusalem,  and,  even  before 
the  last  stage  of  his  disease,  two  of  the  most  honored  and  loved 
Rabbis — Judas  and  Matthias — had  headed  the  wild  band,  Avhich  would 
sweep  away  all  traces  of  Herod's  idolatrous  rule.  They  began  by 
pidling  down  the  immense  golden  eagle,  which  hung  over  the  great 
gate  of  the  Temple.     The  two  ringleaders,  and  forty  of  their  followers, 

^  And  yet  Keim  speaks  of  his  Iloch-  test.  Zeit2;esch.  ])]).  197,  19S. 

herzigkeit    and    natiirlicher  Edelsinn!  '^  See  tlie  liori-ihk'  (l(\'^crii)tioM   of  his 

(Leben   Jesu,    i.    L    ji.    184.)     A   much  living   death  in  Jos.  Ant.  xvii.  (i.  5. 
truer  estimate  is  that  of  Schiirer,  Neu- 


218 


FK'OM    I?I;TI1LEHE.M    to    JORDAN. 


HOOK  iillowcd  tlu'inselves  to  be  taken  l)y  Herod's  guards.  A  mock  public 
II         ti'ial   ill  tlie  theatn;   at  Jericho   Ibllowcd.     Herod,  carried  out  on  a 

— -, '   couch,   was  both   accuser  and  judge.     The  zealots,   who  had  made 

noble  answer  to  tlie  tyrant,  were  Inirnt  alive;  and  tlie  High-Priest, 
wlio  was  suspected  of  connivance,  deposed. 

After  that  the  end  came  rapidly.  On  his  return  from  C'allirhoe, 
feeling  his  death  ai)proaching,  the  King  had  summoned  the  noblest 
of  Israel  througliout  the  land  of  Jericho,  and  shut  them  up  in  the 
Hippodrome,  with  orders  to  his  sister  to  have  them  slain  immediately 
upon  his  death,  in  the  grim  hope  that  the  joy  of  the  people  at  his 
decease  would  thus  be  changed  into  mourning.  Five  days  before 
his  death  one  ray  of  jmssing  joy  lighted  his  couch.  Terrible  to  say, 
it  was  caused  by  a  letter  from  Augustus  allowing  Herod  to  execute 
his  son  Antipater — the  false  accuser  and  real  murderer  of  his  half- 
brothers  Alexander  and  Aristobulus.  The  death  of  the  wretched 
prince  was  hastened  by  his  attempt  to  bribe  the  jailer,  as  the  noise 
in  the  palace,  caused  by  an  attempted  suicide  of  Herod,  led  him  to 
suppose  his  father  was  actually  dead.  And  now  the  terrible  drama 
was  hastening  to  a  close.  The  fresh  access  of  rage  shortened  the 
life  which  was  already  running  out.  Five  days  more,  and  the  terror 
of  Judaea  lay  dead.  He  had  reigned  thirty-seven  years — thirty-four 
since  his  concpiest  of  Jerusalem.  Soon  tlie  rule  for  which  he  had  so 
long  plotted,  striven,  and  stained  himself  A\ith  untold  crimes,  passed 
from  his  descendants.  A  century  more,  and  the  whole  race  of  Herod 
had  been  swept  away. 

We  pass  by  the  -empty  pageant  and  barbaric  splendor  of  his 
burying  in  the  Castle  of  Herodium,  close  to  Bethlehem.  The  events 
of  the  last  few  weeks  formed  a  lurid  back-ground  to  the  murder  of 
'  the  Innocents. '  As  we  have  reckoned  it,  the  visit  of  the  Magi  took 
place  in  February  750  a.u.c.  On  the  12th  of  March  the  Ral)bis  and 
their  adherents  suffered.  On  the  following  night  (or  rather  early 
morning)  there  was  a  lunar  eclipse;  the  execution  of  Antipater  pre- 
ceded tlie  death  of  his  father  by  five  days,  and  the  latter  occurred 
from  seven  to  fourteen  days  before  the  Passover,  which  in  750  took 
place  on  the  12th  of  April. ^ 

1  See  the  calculation  in  >Fie,seZe?-'sSyn-  repeated    statement  of    Joseplms    that 

opse,  pp.  56  and  444.     The  '  Dissertatio  Herod   died    close    upon   the   Passover 

de  Herode  Mao;no,  by  -/•  A.  van  der  Chijs  should  have  sufficed  to  show  the  impossi- 

(Leyden.  1855),  is  very  clear  and  accu-  bility  of  that  hypothesis.     Indeed,  there 

rate.      Dr.   Gelkie  adopts  the  manifest  is  scarcely  any  historical  date  on  which 

mistake  of  Caspar!,  that  Herod  died  in  competent  writers  are  more  a^jreed  than 

January,  753,  and  holds  that  the  Holy  that   of    Herod's   death.     See  Schurer, 

Family  spent  three  years  in  Egypt.    The  Neutest.  Zeitg.,  pp.  222,  223. 


ACCP]f^BION  OF  ARCIIELAUS.  219 

It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that  Salome  (Herod's  sister)  and  her     chap. 
Iiiisl)aiid  were  too  wise  to  execute  Herod's  direction  in  regard  to  the        IX 
noble  Jews  shut  up  in  the  Hippodrome.     Their  liberation,  and  the  ^- — ~^r — ' 
death  of  Herod,  were  marked  by  the  leaders  of  the  people  as  joyous 
events  in  the  so-called  MegiUath  Taanith,  or  Roll  of  Fasts,  although 
the  date  is  not  exactly  marked.''     Henceforth  this  was  to  be  a  Yom  «Meg.Taan 
Tobh  (feast-day),  on  which  mourning  was  interdicted.'  ira*l/,; 

Herod  had  three  times  l)efore  changed  his  testament.  By  the 
first  will  Antipater,  the  successful  calumniator  of  Alexander  and 
Aristobulus,  had  been  appointed  his  successor,  while  the  latter  two 
were  named  kings,  though  we  know  not  of  what  districts. ''     After  the  >■  Jos.war 

i.  lit}.  5 

execution  of  the  two  sons  of  Mariamme,  Antipater  was  named  king, 
and,  in  case  of  his  death,  Herod,  the  son  of  Mariamme  II.  AVhen  the 
treachery  of  Antipater  was  proved,  Herod  made  a  third  will,  in  which 
Antipas  (the  Herod  Antipas  of  the  New  Testament)  was  named  his 
successor."     But  a  few  days  before  his  death  he  made  yet  another  >=jo»-.  Ant. 

^  -^    .  xvli.  6.  1 ; 

disposition,  by  which  Archelaus,  the  elder  brother  of  Antipas  (both  war  1.32.7 
sons  of  Malthake,  a  Samaritan),  was  appointed  king;  Antipas  tetrarch 
of  Galilee  and  Peraea;  and  Pliilip  (the  son  of  Cleopatra,  of  Jerusa- 
lem '),  tetrarch  of  the  territory  east  of  the  Jordan.^    These  testaments 
retlected  the  varying  phases  of  suspicion  and  family-hatred  through 
which  Herod  had  passed.     Although  the   Emperor  seems  to  have 
authorised  him  to  appoint  his  successor,'^  Herod  wisely  made  his  dis-  •;  jos.war 
l)Ositioii  dependent  on  the  approval  of  Augustus."     But  the  latter  was  ,  ^nt.  xvii 
not  by  any  means  to  be  taken  for  granted.     Archelaus  had,  indeed,   ^"  ^ 
been  immediately  proclaimed  King  by  the  army;  but  he  prudently 
declined  the  title,  till  it  had  been  confirmed  by  the  Emperor.     The 
night  of  his  father's  death,  and  those  that  followed,  were  character- 
istically spent  by  Archelaus  in  rioting  with  his  friends.*'    But  the  g^^^-g^J"- 
people  of  Jerusalem  were  not  easily  satisfied.     At  first  liberal  prom- 
ises of  amnesty  and  reforms  had  assuaged  the  populace.*''     But  the  ^Ant.  xvu. 
indin-nation  excited  bv  the  late  murder  of  the  Rabl)is  soon  burst 


'  Tlie  Mecjillath  Taanitli  itself,  or  '  Roll  Gnitz  (Gescli.  vol.  iii.  p.  427)  andDeren- 

of  Fasts.'  does  not  mention  tlie  death  of  hnnrg  (pp.  101,  16-1)  have  reirarded  the 

Herod.  But  the  commentator  adds  to  the  1st  of  Shebhat  as  really  that  of  Herod's 

dates  7th  Kislfv  (yox.)  aw]  2n(\  iS/ieb/inf  death.     But  this  is  imi)ossil)le;  and  we 

(Jan.),    l)oth   manifestly    incorrect,    the  know  enough  of  the  historical  inaccuracy 

notice  that  Herod  had  died— on  the  2nd  of  the  Rabbis  not  to  attach  any  serious 

Shebhat,  Jannai  also — at  the  same  time  importance  to  their  precise  dates, 

tellini;  a  story  about  the  incarceration  '^  Herod  had  married  no  less  than  ten 

and  liberation  of  '  seventy  of  the  PJlders  times.     See  his  genealoijical  table, 

of  Israel,'    evidently  a  modification  of  -^  Bataneea,  Trachonitis,  Auranitis,  and 

Josei)hus'  account  of  what  passed  in  the  Paulas. 
Hiprodrome   of  Jericho.      Accordiuiily, 


220 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


9.  1-3 


BOOK      into  ;i  stoi'in  of  lainciitation,  and  thou  of  rebellion,  which  Arehelaus 
H         silenced  by  the  slauii-hter  of  not  less  than  three  thousand,  and  that 
— -r — '   within  the  sacred  precincts  of  the  Temple  itself.^ 
Ant.xvii.  Other  and  more  serious  difficulties  awaited  him  in  Rome,  whither 

he  Avent  in  company  with  his  mother,  his  aunt  Salome,  and  other 
relatives.  These,  however,  presently  deserted  him  to  espouse  the 
claims  of  Antipas,  who  likewise  appeared  before  Augustus  to  plead 
for  the  royal  succession,  assigned  to  him  in  a  former  testament.  The 
Herodian  family,  while  intriguing  and  clamouring  each  on  his  own 
account,  were,  for  reasons  easily  understood,  agreed  that  they  would 
rather  not  have  a  king  at  all,  but  be  under  the  suzerainty  of  Rome; 
though,  if  king  there  must  be,  they  preferred  Antiinis  to  Arehelaus. 
Meanwhile,  fresh  troubles  broke  out  in  Palestine,  which  were  suppressed 
by  fii'e,  sword,  and  crucifixions.  And  now  two  other  deputations 
arrived  in  the  Imperial  City.  Philip,  the  step-brother  of  Arehelaus,  to 
whom  the  latter  had  left  the  administration  of  his  kingdom,  came  to 
"Ant.  xvii.  look  after  his  own  interests,  as  well  as  to  supijort  Arehelaus.''  ^     At  the 

11.  1;    War  .  '      .  .  ,      ^ 

ii.  6. 1  same  time,  a  Jewish  deputation  ot  filty,  Irom  Palestine,  accompanied 

by  eight  thousand  Roman  Jews,  clamoured  for  the  deposition  of  the 
entire  Herodian  race,  on  account  of  their  crimes,^  and  the  incorpora- 
tion of  Palestine  with  Syria — no  doubt  in  hope  of  the  same  semi- 
independence  under  their  own  authorities,  enjoyed  by  their  fellow- 
religionists  in  the  Grecian  cities.  Augustus  decided  to  confirm  the 
last  testament  of  Herod,  with  certain  slight  modifications,  of  which 
the  most  important  was  that  Arehelaus  should  bear  the  title  of 
Ethnarch,  which,  if  he  deserved  it,  would  l)y-and-by  be  exchanged 
for  that  of  King.  His  dominions  were  to  be  Judsea,  Idumasa,  and 
Samaria,  with  a  revenue  of  600  talents'  (about  230, 000?.  to  240, 000?). 
It  is  needless  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  the  new  Ethnarch.  He  began 
his  rule  by  crushing  all  resistance  by  the  wholesale  slaughter  of  his 
opponents.  Of  the  High-Priestly  office  he  disposed  after  the  manner 
of  his  father.  But  he  far  surpassed  him  in  cruelty,  oppression, 
luxury,  the  grossest  egotism,  and  the  lowest  sensuality,  and  that, 
without  possessing  the  talent  or  the  energy  of  Herod.*  His  brief 
reign  ceased  in  the  year  6  of  our  era,  when  the  Emperor  banished 
him,  on  account  of  his  crimes,  to  Gaul. 

^  I  cannot  conceive  on  what  ground  ^  The  revenues  of  Antipas  were  200 

Keim  (both  in  SchenJipVs  Bibel  Lex,  and  talents,  and  tliose  of  Philip  100   talents, 

in  his  '  Jesu  von  Nazara')  speaks  of  him  *  This   is   admitted    even   by   Brann 

as  a  i)retender  to  tlie  throne.  (Solme   d.   Ilerodes,    ]).  8).     Despite  its 

^  This  nia.y  have  been  the  liistOrical  pretentiousness,    this    tractate    is     un- 

basis  of  the  parable  of  our  Lord  in  St.  trustworthy,    being  written  in  a  party 

Luke  xix.  12-27.  sijirit  (Jewish). 


THE   SETTLEMENT   IN    NAZAPvETlI. 


221 


It  must  have  been  soon  alter  llie  aecession  of  Archelaus,^  but 
before  tidings  of  it  had  aetuallj  reached  Joseph  in  Egypt,  that  the 
Holy  Family  returned  to  Palestine.  The  first  intention  of  Joseph 
seems  to  have  been  to  settle  in  Bethlehem,  where  he  had  lived  since 
the  birth  of  Jesus.  Obvious  reasons  would  incline  him  to  choose  this, 
and,  if  possible,  to  avoid  Nazareth  as  the  place  of  his  residence.  His 
trade,  even  had  he  been  unknown  in  Bethlehem,  would  have  easily 
supplied  the  modest  wants  of  his  household.  But  when,  on  reaching 
Palestine,  he  learned  who  the  successor  of  Herod  was,  and  also,  no 
doubt,  in  what  manner  he  had  inaugurated  his  reign,  common  prudence 
would  have  dictated  the  withdrawal  of  the  Infant-Saviour  from  the 
dominions  of  Archelaus.  But  it  needed  Divine  direction  to  determine 
his  return  to  Nazareth.^ 

Of  the  many  years  spent  in  Nazareth,  during  which  Jesus  passed 
from  infancy  to  childhood,  from  childhood  to  youth,  and  from  youth  to 
manhood,  the  Evangelic  narrative  has  left  us  but  briefest  notice.  Of 
His  childhood:  that  ^He  grew  and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,  filled  with 
wisdom,  and  the  grace  of  God  was- upon  Him;'"  of  His  youth: 
besides  the  account  of  His  questioning  the  Rabbis  in  the  Temple,  the 
year  before  he  attained  Jewish  majority — that  'He  was  subject  to 
His  parents,'  and  that  'He  increased  in  wisdom  and  in  stature,  and  in 
favour  with  God  and  man.'  Considering  what  loving  care  watched 
over  Jewish  child-life,  tenderly  mjjrking  by  not  fewer  than  eight 
designations  the  various  stages  of  its  development,^  and  the  deep 
interest  naturally  attaching  to  the  early  life  of  the  Messiah,  that 
silence,  in  contrast  to  the  almost  blasphemous  absurdities  of  the 
Apocryphal  Gospels,  teaches  us  once  more,  and  most  impressively,  that 
the  Gospels  furnish  a  history  of  the  Saviour,  not  a  biography  of  Jesus 
of  Nazareth. 

St.  Matthew,  indeed,  summarises  the  whole  outward  history  of 


CHAP. 

IX 


'  We  gather  this  from  the  expression, 
'When  he  heard  that  Archelaus  did 
reigu.'  Evidently  Joseph  had  not  heard 
who  was  Herod's  successor,  when  he  left 
Egypt.  Archdeacon  Farrar  suggests,  that 
the  expression  'reigned'  (' as  a  king, 
f3a(TiXevet — St.  Alatt.  ii.  22)  refers  to 
the  period  before  Augustus  had  changed 
his  title  from  '  King '  to  Etiniarch.  But 
this  can  scarcely  l)e  jiressed,  the  word 
being  used  of  other  rule  than  that  of  a 
kinff,  not  only  in  the  New  Testament 
and  in  the  Apocryi)ha,  Init  by  Josephus, 
and  even  by  classical  writers. 

^  The  language  of  St.  Matthew  (ii.  22, 
23)  seems  to  imply  express  Divine  direc- 


tion not  to  enter  the  territory  of  Judjea. 
In  that  case  he  would  travel  along  the 
coast-line  till  he  passed  into  Galilee. 
The  impression  left  is,  that  the  settle- 
ment at  Nazareth  whs  not  of  his  own 
choice. 

■^  Yeled,  the  newborn  babe,  as  in  Is. 
ix.  6 ;  Yoneq,  the  suckling,  Is.  xi.  8 ;  OM, 
the  suckling  beginning  to  ask  for  food. 
Lam.  iv.  4;  (iamu),  the  weaned  child. 
Is.  xxviii.  9;  Taph,  the  child  clinging  to 
its  mother,  Jer.  xl.  7;  Elem,  a  child 
becoming  tirm;  Naar,  the  lad,  literally, 
'one  who  shakes  himself  free;'  and 
Bachur,  the  riiwned  one.  (See  '  Sketches 
of  Jewish  Soeial  Life,'  pp.  103,  104.) 


» St.  Luke 
il.  iu 


222 


FROM    15ETHLEnE:\r   TO   JOEDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


» In  accord- 
ance with 
Jer.  xxili. 
5;  xxxiii. 
15 ;  and  es- 
pecially 
Zech  ili.  18 


b  So  in  Ber. 
R.  76 


the  life  in  Nazareth  in  one  sentence.  Henceforth  Jesus  would  stand 
out  betbrc  the  Jews  of  His  time  —  and,  as  we  know,  of  all  times  ' — 
by  the  distinctive  designation:  'of  Nazareth/  *-!i*:  (iVbtsri),  ^a^oj- 
paios,  '  the  Nazarene.'  In  the  mind  of  a  Palestinian  a  peculiar  signi- 
ficance would  attach  to  the  by-Name  of  the  Messiah,  especially  in  its 
connection  with  the  general  teaching  of  prophetic  Scripture.  And 
here  we  must  remember,  that  St.  Matthew  primarily  addressed  his 
Gospel  to  Palestinian  readers,  and  that  it  is  the  Jewish  presentation 
of  the  Messiah  as  meeting  Jewish  expectancy.  In  this  there  is 
nothing  derogatory  to  the  character  of  the  Gospel,  no  accommodation 
in  the  sense  of  adaptation,  since  Jesus  was  not  only  the  Saviour  of  the 
world,  but  especially  also  the  King  of  the  Jews,  and  we  are  now  con- 
sidering how  He  would  stand  out  before  the  Jewish  mind.  On  one 
point  all  were  agreed:  His  Name  was  Notsri  (of  Nazareth).  St. 
Matthew  proceeds  to  point  out,  how  entirely  this  accorded  with 
prophetic  Scripture — not,  indeed,  with  any  single  prediction,  but  with 
the  wliole  language  of  the  prophets.  From  this  ^  the  Jcavs  derived 
not  fewer  than  eight  designations  or  Names  by  which  the  Messiah  Avas 
to  be  called.  The  most  prominent  among  them  was  that  of  TsemacJij 
or  'Branch.' "  We  call  it  the  most  prominent,  not  only  because  it  is 
based  upon  the  clearest  Scrijiture-testimony,  l)ut  because  it  evidently 
occupied  the  foremost  rank  in  Jewish  thinking,  being  embodied  in 
this  earliest  portion  of  their  daily  liturgy:  '  The  Branch  of  David,  Thy 
Servant,  speedily  make  to  shoot  forth,  and  His  Horn  exalt  Thou  Ijy 
Thy  Salvation.  .  .  .  Blessed  art  Thou  Jehovah,  Who  causeth  to  spring 
forth  (literally:  to  branch  forth)  the  Horn  of  Salvation'  (1.5th  Eulogy). 
Now,  what  is  expressed  by  the  word  Tsemaeh  is  also  conveyed  by  the 
term  iVefeer,  'Branch,'  in  such  passages  as  Isaiah  xi.  1,  which  was 
likewise  applied  to  the  Messiah.^  Thus,  starting  from  Isaiah  x\.\,Netser 
being  equivalent  to  Tsemaeh,  Jesus  would,  as  Notsri  or  Ben  Netser.^'* 
bear  in  popular  parlance,  and  that  on  the  ground  of  prophetic  Scrip- 
tures, the  exact  equivalent  of  the  best-known  designation  of  the 
Messiah.^  The  more  significant  this,  that  it  was  not  a  self-chosen 
nor  man-given  name,  but  arose,  in  the  providence  of  God.  from  what 
otherwise  might  have  been  called  the  accident  of  His  residence.    We 


1  This  is  still  the  common,  alniost  uni- 
versal, designation  of  Christ  among  the 
Jews. 

^  Comp.  ch.  iv.  of  this  book. 

^  See  Appendix  IX. 

*  Comp.  Buxtorf,  Lexicon  Tahn.  p. 
1383.  .  • 


^  All  this  becomes  more  evident  by  De- 
litzsch's  ingenious  suggestion  fZeitschr. 
fiir  luther.  Theol.  187(5.  part  iii.  ]). 
402).  that  the  real  meaning,  though  nf)t 
the  literal  rendering,  of  the  words  of  St. 
Matthew,  would  be  I'ir  "i."  "2 — •  for 
Nezer  ['branch"]  is  His  Xame.' 


THE    IJIiANCII   OUT   OF   JESSE'S   KOOTS.  223 

admit  tliat  this  is  a  Jewish  view;  but  then  this  (iospel  /.s  the  Jewish      CHAP, 
view  of  the  Jewish  Messiali.  IX 

But,  taking  this  Jewish  title  in  its  Jewish  significaiiee,  it  has  also  ~ — -r — 
a  deei)er  meaning,  and  that  not  only  to  Jews,  but  to  all  men.  The 
idea  of  Christ  as  the  Divinely  plaeed  '  Braneh '  (symbolised  by  His 
Divinely-appointed  early  residence),  small  and  desi)ised  in  its  forth- 
shooting,  or  then  visible  appearance  (like  Nazareth  and  the  Nazarenes), 
but  destined  to  grow  as  the  Branch  sprung  out  of  Jesse's  roots,  is 
most  marvellously  true  to  the  whole  history  of  the  Christ,  alike  as 
sketched  '  ]\y  the  prophets,'  and  as  exhibited  in  reality.  And  thus  to 
us  all,  Jews  or  Gentiles,  the  Divine  guidance  to  Nazareth  and  the 
name  Nazarene  present  the  truest  fulfilment  of  the  prophecies  of  His 
history. 

Greater  contrast  could  scarcely  be  imagined  than  between  the  in- 
tricate scholastic  studies  of  the  Juda^ans,  and  the  active  pursuits  that 
engaged  men  in  Galilee.  It  was  a  common  saying:  '  If  a  person 
wishes  to  be  rich,  let  him  go  north;  if  he  wants  to  be  wise,  let  him 
come  south ' — and  to  Judgea,  accordingly,  flocked,  from  ploughshare 
and  workshop,  whoever  w^ished  to  become  '  learned  in  the  Law. '  The 
very  neighbourhood  of  the  Gentile  world,  the  contact  with  the  great 
commercial  centres  close  by,  and  the  constant  intercourse  with  foreign- 
ers, who  passed  through  Galilee  along  one  of  the  world's  great  high- 
ways, would  render  the  narrow  exclusiveness  of  the  Southerners 
impossible.  Galilee  was  to  Judaism  '  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles  ' — the 
Rabbinic  Schools  of  Judaea  its  innermost  Sanctuary.  The  natural 
disposition  of  the  people,  even  the  soil  and  climate  of  Galilee,  were 
not  favourable  to  the  all-engrossing  passion  for  Rabbinic  study.  In 
Judaea  all  seemed  to  invite  to  retrospection  and  introspection;  to  favour 
habits  of  solitary  thought  and  study,  till  it  kindled  into  fanaticism. 
Mile  l)y  mile  as  you  travelled  southwards,  memories  of  the  past  would 
crowd  around,  and  thoughts  of  the  future  would  rise  within.  Avoiding 
the  great  towns  as  the  centres  of  hated  heathenism,  the  traveller 
would  meet  few  foreigners,  but  everywhere  encounter  those  gaunt 
representatives  of  what  was  regarded  as  the  superlative  excellency  of 
his  religion.  These  were  the  embodiment  of  Jewish  piety  and 
asceticism,  the  possessors  and  expounders  of  the  mysteries  of  his  faith, 
the  fountain-head  of  wisdom,  who  were  not  only  sure  of  heaven 
themselves,  but  knew  its  secrets,  and  were  its  very  aristocracy;  men 
who  could  tell  him  all  about  his  own  religion,  practised  its  most 
minute  injunctions,  and  could  interin-ot  every  stroke  and  letter  of  the 
Law — nay,  whose  it  actually  was  to  '  loose  and  to  bind,'  to  ju-onounce 


224  FRO:\I    BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      an  action  lawful  or  unlawful,  and  to  '  remit  or  retain  sins, '  by  declaring 
n         n  iiKin  liable  to,  or  free  from,  cxjnatory  sacrifices,  or  else  punishment 

' -. — ^   in  this  or  the  next  world.     ISo  Hindoo  fanatic  would  more  humbly 

bend  Ix'lbre  lirahiiiiu  saints,  nor  devout  Romanist  more  venerate  the 
mcudx'rs  of  a  holy  fraternity,  than  the  Jew  his  great  Rabbis.^ 
Reason,  duty,  and  precept,  alike  bound  him  to  reverence  them,  as  he 
rc^•erenced  the  God  Whose  interpreters,  representatives,  deputies, 
intimate  companions,  almost  colleagues  in  the  heavenly  Sanhedrin, 
they  were.  And  all  around,  even  nature  itself,  might  seem  to  foster 
such  tendencies.  Even  at  that  time  Judaea  was  comparatively  desolate, 
barren,  grey.  The  decaying  cities  of  ancient  renown;  the  lone  high- 
land scenery;  the  bare,  rugged  hills;  the  rocky  terraces  from  which 
only  artificial  culture  could  woo  a  return;  the  wide  solitary  plains, 
deep  glens,  limestone  heights — with  distant  glorious  Jerusalem  ever 
in  tlie  far  background,  would  all  favour  solitary  thought  and  religious 
abstraction. 

It  was  quite  otherwise  in  Galilee.  The  smiling  landscape  of 
Lower  Galilee  invited  the  easy  labour  of  the  agriculturist.  Even  the 
highlands  of  Upper  Galilee  '^  were  not,  like  those  of  Judgea,  sombre, 
lonely,  enthusiasm-killing,  but  gloriously  grand,  free,  fresh,  and 
bracing.  A  more  beautiful  country — hill,  dale,  and  lake — could 
scarcely  be  imagined  than  Galilee  Proper.  It  was  here  that  Asher 
had  'dipped  his  foot  in  oil.'  According  to  the  Rabbis,  it  was  easier 
to  rear  a  forest  of  olive-trees  in  Galilee  than  one  child  in  Judaea. 
Corn  grew  in  abundance;  the  wine,  though  not  so  plentiful  as  the  oil, 
was  rich  and  generous.  Proverbially,  all  fruit  grew  in  perfection, 
and  altogether  the  cost  of  living  was  about  one-fifth  that  in  Judgea. 
And  then,  what  a  teeming,  busy  population  !  Making  every  allowance 
for  exaggeration,  we  cannot  wholly  ignore  the  account  of  Josephus 
about  the  240  towns  and  villages  of  Galilee,  each  with  not  less  than 
15,000  inhabitants.  In  the  centres  of  industry  all  then  known  trades 
were  busily  carried  on;  the  husbandman  pursued  his  happy  toil  on 

'  One  of  the  most  absurdly  curious  On  the  south  it  was  bounded  by  Samaria 
illustrations  of  this  is  the  following:  — Mount Carmel  on  the  Western,  and  the 
'  He  who  blows  his  nose  in  the  presence  district  of  Scythopolis  on  the  eastern 
of  his  Riil)bi  is  wortliy  of  death '  (Erub.  side,  being  here  landmarks;  while  the 
1)1)  r/,  line  11  from  bottom).  Ih^  diet  inn  Jordan  and  the  Lake  of  Oennesaret 
is  supported  by  an  alteration  in  the  formed  tlie  general  eastern  boundary- 
reading  of  Prov.  viii.  ."56.  line.'  (Sketctiesof  Jewish  Soc.  Life,  p.  33.) 

'•*  Galilee  covered  the  ancient  posses-  Ii  was  divided  into  rp]ier  and  Lower 

sions  of  Issachar,  Zebulun,  Naphtali,  and  Galilee — the  former  beginning    '  where 

Asher.   '  In  the  time  of  Christ  it  stretched  sycomores  (not  our  sycamores)  cease  to 

northwards  to  the  possessions  of  Tyre  on  grow.'    Fishing  in  the  Lake  of  Galilee 

the  ono  side,  and  to  Syria  on  the  other.  was  free  to  all  (Baba  K.  81  b). 


RELIGIOUS   TEACHING   IN   GALILEE. 


225 


genial  soil,  while  by  the  Lake  of  Gennesaret,  with  its  unrivalled 
beauty,  its  rich  villages,  and  lovely  retreats,  the  flsherman  j)lied  his 
healthy  avocation.  By  those  waters,  overarched  by  a  deep  blue  sky, 
spangled  with  the  brilliancy  of  innumerable  stars,  a  man  might  feel 
constrained  by  nature  itself  to  meditate  and  pray ;  he  would  not  be 
likely  to  indulge  in  a  morbid  fanaticism. 

Assuredly,  in  its  then  condition,  Galilee  was  not  the  home  of 
Rabbinism,  though  that  of  generous  spirits.,  of  warm,  impulsive 
hearts,  of  intense  nationalism,  of  simple  manners,  and  of  earnest 
piety.  Of  course,  there  would  be  a  reverse  side  to  the  picture.  Such 
a  race  would  be  excitable,  passionate,  violent.  The  Talmud  accuses 
them  of  being  quarrelsome,"  but  admits  that  they  cared  more  for 
honour  than  for  money.  The  great  ideal  teacher  of  Palestinian 
schools  was  Akiba,  and  one  of  his  most  outspoken  opponents  a 
Galilean,  Rabbi  Josd.  ^  In  religious  observances  their  practice  was 
simpler;   as  regarded  canon-law  they  often  took  independent  views. 


CHAP. 
IX 


'  cantan- 
kerous' (?), 
Ned.  48  a 


b  Siphre  on 
Numb.  X. 
19,  ed. 
Fried- 

and  generally  followed  the  interpretations  of  those  who,  in  opposition  mann,  4  a. 
to  Akiba,  inclined  to  the  more  mild  and  rational — we  had  almost 
said,  the  more  human — application  of  traditionalism.^  The  Talmud 
mentions  several  points  in  which  the  practice  of  tlie  Galileans  differed 
from  that  of  Judaea — all  either  in  the  direction  of  more  practical  earnest- 
ness,^ or  of  alleviation  of  Rabbinic  rigorism.^  On  the  other  hand, 
they  were  looked  down  upon  as  neglecting  traditionalism,  unable  to 
rise  to  its  speculative  heights,  and  preferring  the  attractions  of  the 
Haggadah  to  the  logical  subtleties  of  the  Halakhah.*  There  was  a 
general  contempt  in  Rabbinic  circles  for  all  that  was  Galilean, 
Although  the  Judsean  or  Jerusalem  dialect  was  far  from  pure,^  the 
people  of  Galilee  were  especially  blamed  for  neglecting  the  study  of 
their  language,  charged  with  errors  in  grammar,  and  especially  with 
absurd  malpronunciation,  sometimes  leading  to  ridiculous  mistakes.® 


1  Of  which  Jochaiian,  the  son  of  Niiri, 
may  here  be  regarded  as  the  exponent. 

■■^  As  in  the  relation  between  bride- 
groom and  bride,  the  cessation  of  work 
the  day  before  the  Passover,  &c. 

•^  As  in  regard  to  animals  lawful  to  be 
eaten,  vows,  &c. 

*  The  doctrinal,  or  rather  Halakhic, 
differences  between  Galilee  and  Jud;ea 
are  partially  noted  by  Lightfoot  (Ghro- 
nogr.  Matth.  praem.  Ixxxvi.),  and  by 
Hamburger  (Real-Enc!  i.  p.  395). 

^  See  Deiitsch's  Remains,  p.  .358. 

'"  The  differences  of  ])roiiunciation  and 
language  are  indicated  by  Lightfoot  (u.  s. 


Ixxxvii.),  and  by  Deutsch  (u.  s.  pp.  357, 
358).  Several  instances  of  ridiculous 
mistakes  arising  from  it  are  recorded. 
Thus,  a  woman  cooked  for  her  husband 
two  lentils  (*ni"'w)  instead  of  two  feet 
(of  an  aninuil,  *Srw),  as  desired  {Nedar, 
66  h).  On  another  occasion  a  woman 
malpronounced  '  Come,  I  will  give  thee 
milk,'  into  'Companion,  butter  devour 
thee!'  (Erub.  53  b).  In  the  same  con- 
nection otlier  similar  stories  are  told. 
Comp.  also  Neultauer,  Geogr.  du  Tal- 
mud, p.  184,  G.  de  Rossi,  della  lingua, 
prop,  di  Cristo,  Dissert.  I.  passim. 


226 


FIIOM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 

"  Erub.  5:{  h 


'■  St.  Luke 
ii.  40 


•(Jaliloau — Fool!'  was  so  common  an  expression,  that  a  learned  lady 
turned  with  it  upon  so  great  a  man  as  R.  Jos^,  the  Galilean,  because 
he  hail  used  two  needless  words  in  asking  her  the  road  to  Lydda.  "^ 
Indeed,  this  R.  Jose  had  considerable  prejudices  to  overcome,  before 
his  remarkable  talents  and  learning  were  fully  acknowledged.^ 

Among  such  a  people,  and  in  that  country,  Jesus  spent  by  far  the 
longest  part  of  His  life  upon  earth.  Generally,  this  period  may 
be  described  as  that  of  His  true  and  full  Human  Development — 
physical,  intellectual,  spiritual — of  outward  submission  to  man,  and 
inward  submission  to  God,  with  the  attendant  results  of  '  wisdom, ' 
'favour,'  and  'grace.'  Necessary,  therefore,  as  this  period  was,  if 
the  Christ  was  to  be  Tkue  Man,  it  cannot  be  said  that  it  was  lost, 
even  so  far  as  His  Work  as  Saviour  was  concerned.  It  was  more  than 
the  preparation  for  that  work;  it  w^as  the  commencement  of  it: 
subjectively  (and  passively),  the  self-abnegation  of  humiliation  in  His 
willing  submission:  and  objectively  (and  actively),  the  fulfilment  of 
all  righteousness  through  it.  But  into  this  'mystery  of  piety' 
we  may  only  look  afar  otf — simply  remarking,  that  it  almost  needed 
for  us  also  these  thirty  years  of  Human  Life,  that  the  overpowering 
thought  of  His  Divinity  might  not  overshadow  that  of  His  Humanity. 
But  if  He  was  subject  to  such  conditions,  they  must,  in  the  nature 
of  things,  have  afi'ected  His  development.  It  is  therefore  not  pre- 
sumption when,  without  breaking  the  silence  of  Holy  Scripture,  we 
follow  the  various  stages  of  the  Nazareth  life,  as  each  is,  so  to  speak, 
initialled  Ijy  the  brief  but  emphatic  summaries  of  the  third  Gospel. 
•  In  regard  to  the  Child-Life,^  we  read:  'And  the  Child  grew, 
and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,*  being  filled  with  wisdom,  and  the  grace 
of  God  was  upon  Him. '  ^  This  marks,  so  to  speak,  the  lowest  rung 
in  the  ladder.  Having  entered  upon  life  as  the  Divine  Infant,  He 
began  it  as  the  Human  Child,  subject  to  all  its  conditions,  yet  perfect 
in  them. 

These  conditions  were,  indeed,  for  that  time,  the  happiest  conceiv- 
able, and  such  as  only  centuries  of  Old  Testament  life-training  could 
have  made  them.     The  Gentile  world  here  presented  terrible  contrast, 

^  Gelpke,  Jugendgesch,  des  Herrn, 
has,  at  least  m  our  daj's,  little  value 
beyond  its  title. 

*  The  words  '  iu  spirit '  are  of  doubt- 
ful authority.  But  their  omission  can  be 
of  no  consequence,  since  the  'waxing 
strong'  evidently  refers  to  the  mental 
development,  as  the  subsequent  clause 
shows. 


1  The  Rabbi  asked:  What  road  leads 
to  Lydda  ? — using  /onr  words.  The 
woman  pointed  out  that,  since  it  was 
not  lawful  to  multiply  speech  with  a 
woman,  he  should  have  asked:  Whither 
to  Lijdda  ? — in  two  words. 

2  in  fact,  only  four  great  Galilean 
Rabbis  are  mentioned.  The  Galileans 
are  said  to  have  inclined  towards  mysti- 
cal ( Kabbalistic  ?)  pursuits. 


THE   UPBRINGING   OF  A   JEWISH   CHILD.  227 

alike  in    regard    to  the  relation  of  parents  and    eliildren,  and   the     CHAP, 
character  and  moral  object  of  their  upbringing.     Education  l)egins        l^ 
in  the  home,  and  there  were  not  homes  like  those  in  Israel;  it  is  ^— ^r^^ 
imparted  by  influence  and  example,  before  it  comes  by  teaching;  it 
is  acquired  by  what  is  seen  and  heard,  before  it  is  laboriously  learned 
from  books;  its  real   object   becomes   instinctively   felt,    before   its 
goal  is  consciously  sought.     What  Jewish  fathers  and  mothers  were; 
what  they  felt   towards  their  children;    and  with  what   reverence, 
affection,  and  care  the  latter  returned  what  they  had  received,  is 
known  to  every  reader  of  the  Old  Testament.     The  relationship  of 
father   has   its   highest  sanction   and   embodiment  in   that  of  God 
towards  Israel;  the  tenderness  and  care  of  a  mother  in  that  of  the 
watchfulness  and  pity  of  the  Lord  over  His  people.     The  semi-Divine 
relationship  between  children  and  parents  appears  in  the  location,  the 
far  more  than  outward  duties  which  it  implies  in  the  wording,  of  the 
Fifth  Commandment.     No  punishment  more  prompt  than  that  of  its 
breach;''  no  description  more  terribly  realistic  than  that  of  the  ven-  j^.f^*- -'^^'• 
geance  which  overtakes  such  sin."*  ^■pxov.s.xa. 

From  the  first  days  of  its  existence,  a  religious  atmosphere  sur- 
rounded the  child  of  Jewish  parents.  Admitted  in  the  number  of 
God's  chosen  people  by  the  deeply  significant  rite  of  circumcision, 
when  its  name  was  first  spoken  in  the  accents  of  prayer,^  it  was 
henceforth  separated  unto  God.  Whether  or  not  it  accepted  the 
privileges  and  obligations  implied  in  this  dedication,  they  came  to 
him  directly  from  God,  as  much  as  the  circumstances  of  his  birth. 
The  God  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob,  the  God  of  Israel,  the  God 
of  the  promises,  claimed  him,  with  all  of  blessing  which  this  conveyed, 
and  of  responsibility  which  resulted  from  it.  And  the  first  Avish 
expressed  for  liim  was  that,  'as  he  had  been  joined  to  the  covenant,' 
so  it  might  also  be  to  him  in  regard  to  the  '  Torah '  (Law),  to  *the 
Chuppah'  (the  marriage-baldachino),  and  'to  good  works;'  in  other 
words,  that  he  might  live  'godly,  soberly,  and  righteously  in  this 
present  Avorld  ' — a  holy,  happy,  and  God-devoted  life.  And  what 
this  was,  could  not  for  a  moment  be  in  doubt.  Putting  aside  the 
overlying  Rabbinic  interpretations,  the  ideal  of  life  was  presented  to 
the  mind  of  the  Jew  in  a  hundred  different  forms — in  none  perhaps 
more  popularly  than  in  the  W(n'ds,  '  These  are  the  things  of  which 
a  man  enjoys  the  fruit  in  this  world,  but  their  possession  continueth 
for  the  next:  to  honour  father  and  mother,  pious  works,  ])eacemaking 

^  See  the  notice  of  these  rites  at  the  eircuincisioii  of  John  the  Baptist,  in  ch.  iv.  of 
this  Book. 


228  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK  between  man  and  man,  and  the  study  of  tlie  Law,  whicli  isc(j[uivalent 
II  to  them  all.' "  This  devotion  to  the  Law  was,  indeed,  to  the  Jew  the  all 

^- — ^.^ '   in  all — the  sum  of  intelleetual  pursuits,  the  aim  of  life.     What  better 

»poahi.  1  tiiin<»:  could  a  father  seek  for  his  child  than  this  inestimable  boon? 
Tlic  first  education  was  necessarily  the  mother's.^  Even  the 
Talmud  owns  this,  when,  among  the  memorable  sayings  of  the  sages, 
it  records  one  of  the  School  of  Rabbi  Jannai,  to  the  eft'ect  that  know- 
ledge of  the  Law  may  be  looked  for  in  those,  who  have  sucked  it  in 

"  Ber.  63  h  at  their  mother's  breast."  And  what  the  true  mothers  in  Israel  were, 
is  known  not  only  from  instances  in  the  Old  Testament,  from  the 
praise  of  woman  in  the  Book  of  Proverbs,  and  from  the  sayings  of 
the  son  of  Sirach  (Ecclus.  iii.^),  but  from  the  Jewish  women  of  the 
New  Testament.*  If,  according  to  a  somewhat  curious  traditional 
principle,  women  were  dispensed  from  all  such  positive  obligations  as 
were  incumbent  at  fixed  periods  of  time  (such  as  putting  on  phylac- 
teries), other  religious  duties  devolved  exclusively  upon  them.  The 
Sabbath  meal,  the  kindling  of  the  Sabbath  lamp,  and  the  setting 
apart  a  portion  of  the  dough  from  the  bread  for  the  household, — 
these  are  but  instances,  with  which  every  '  Taph, '  as  he  clung  to 
his  mother's  skirts,  must  have  been  familiar.  Even  before  he  could 
follow  her  in  such  religious  household  duties,'  his  eyes  must  have 
been  attracted  by  the  Mezuzah  attached  to  the  door-post,  as  the  name 

••On which    of  the  Most  High  on  the  outside  of  the  little  folded  parchment"  was 

Deut.vi.  4-9  " 

and  xi.  13-  revcrcntlv  touched  by  each  who  came  or  went,  and  then  the  fingers 

21  were  ./  ./  ;  ■- 

Inscribed     kisscd  that  had  come  m  contact  with  the  Holy  Name.''     Indeed,  the 

\v%'.u^'     *^iity  of  the  3l€zuzah  was  incumbent  on  women  also,  and   one   can 

Me^'iiLLS;   imagine  it  to  have  been  in  the  heathen-home  of  Lois  and   Eunice 

MoedK. 111.   -j^   ^j^^   far-off    'dispersion,'    where   Timothy  would   first  learn   to 

wonder  at,  then  to  understand,  its  meaning.     And  what  lessons  for 

the  past  and  for  the  present  might  not  be  connected  with  it  !     In 

popular  opinion  it  was  the  syml)ol  of  the  Divine  guard  over  Israel's 

homes,  the  visible  emblem  of  this  joyous  hymn:     'The   Lord   shall 

preserve  thy  going  out  and  coming  in,  from  this  time  forth,  and  even 

•  Ps.  cxxi.  8  for  evermore.  ^ " 

There  could  not  be  national  history,  nor  even  romance,  to  compare 
with  that  by  which  a  Jewish  mother  might  hold  her  child  entranced. 

^  Comp.  '  Sketches   of  .Jewish  Social  ^  Besides  tlie  holy  women   who   are 

Life,'   pp.  86-l()0,    the   literature   there  named  in  the  Gospels,  we  would  refer  to 

quoted:  D»sc//rt^,  Schulgesetzgebung  d.  the  mothers  of  Zebedee's  children  and 

alten  Isr. ;  and  Dr.  Marcus,  Paedagog.  d.  of  Mark,  to  Dorcas,  Lj'dia,  Lois,  Eunice, 

Isr.  Volkes.  Priscilla,    St.    John's    'elect  lady,'   and 

^  The  counterpart  is  in  Ecclus.  xxx.  others. 


A   JEAVISH   HOME   AND   ITS   INFLUENCES.  229 

And  it  was  liis  own  history — that  of  his  trilio,  chin,  i)oi']iaps  family;  CHAP. 
of  tho  past,  indeed,  but  yet  of 'the  present,  and  still  more  of  the  IX 
glorious  future.  Long  before  he  could  go  to  school,  or  even  Syna-  ^-^r — ' 
gogue,  the  private  and  united  prayers  and  the  domestic  rites,  whether 
of  the  weekly  Sabbath  or  of  festive  seasons,  would  indelibly  impress 
themselves  upon  his  mind.  In  mid-winter  there  was  the  festive 
illumination  in  each  home.  In  most  houses,  the  first  night  only  one 
candle  was  lit,  the  next  two,  and  so  on  to  the  eighth  day;  and  the  child 
would  learn  that  this  was  symbolic,  and  commemorative  of  the  Dedi- 
cation of  the  Temple^  its  purgation,  and  the  restoration  of  its  services 
by  the  lion-hearted  Judas  the  Maccabec.  Next  came,  in  earliest 
spring,  the  merry  time  of  Purim,  the  Feast  of  Esther  and  of  Israel's 
deliverance  through  her,  with  its  good  cheer  and  boisterous  enjoy- 
ments.^ Although  the  Passover  might  call  the  rest  of  the  family  to 
Jerusalem,  the  rigid  exclusion  of  all  leaven  during  the  whole  week 
could  not  pass  without  its  impressions.  Then,  after  the  Feast  of 
Weeks,  came  bright  summer.  But  its  golden  harvest  and  its  rich 
fruits  would  remind  of  the  early  dedication  of  the  first  and  best  to 
the  Lord,  and  of  those  solemn  processions  in  which  it  was  carried  up 
to  Jerusalem.  As  autumn  seared  the  leaves,  the  Feast  of  the  New 
Year  spoke  of  the  casting  up  of  man's  accounts  in  the  great  Book  of 
Judgment,  and  the  fixing  of  destiny  for  good  or  for  evil.  Then 
followed  the  Fast  of  the  Day  of  Atonement,  with  its  tremendous 
solemnities,  the  memory  of  which  could  never  fade  from  mind  or 
imagination;  and,  last  of  all,  in  the  week  of  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles, 
there  were  the  strange  leafy  booths  in  which  they  lived  and  joyed, 
keeping  their  harvest-thanksgiving;  and  praying  and  longing  for  the 
better  harvest  of  a  renewed  world. 

But  it  was  not  only  through  sight  and  hearing  that,  from  its  very 
inception,  life  in  Israel  became  religious.  There  was  also  from  the  first 
positive  teaching,  of  which  the  commencement  would  necessarily  de- 
volve on  the  mother.  It  needed  not  the  extravagant  lauckitions,  nor  the 
promises  held  out  by  the  Rabbis,  to  incite  Jewish  women  to  this  duty. 
If  they  were  true  to  their  descent,  it  would  come  almost  naturally  to 
them.  Scripture  set  before  them  a  continuous  succession  of  noble 
Hebrew  mothers.  How  well  they  followed  their  example,  we  learn 
from  the  instance  of  her,  whose  son,  the  child  of  a  Gentile  father, 
and  reared  far  away,  where  there  was  not  even  a  Synagogue  to  sustain 
religious  life,  had  'from  an  infant'  known  the  Holy  Scriptures,'  and 

1  Some  of  its  customs  almost  remind  -  The  word  ^/3£'0o;  has  no  other  mean- 

us  of  our  5th  of  November.  ine;  than  that  of  '  infant '  or  '  babe.' 


230 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 


»  2  Tim.  iii. 
1.') ;  1.  5 
'•  riiih. 
Legat.  <i(l 
Cajum.scc. 
16.  31 

'■  ./0.S-.  Ag. 
Apion  ii.  ivl 

'1  Jo<.  Ag. 
Apion  il.'26; 
fomp.  1.  8. 
12:  ii.  27 


Kidd,  29  a 


f  Sanh.  99  b 
e  Kidd,  30  a 


•>  Meg.  6  b 


'  Sot.  22  a 
i<  Slice.  42  a 


"  Ps.  cxiii. 
cxvlii. 


»  Baba  B. 
21  (( :  Keth. 
50  a 


tliat  in  tlicii- lire-moiildin.u-  intlucnco.^  It  was,  indeed,  no  idle  boast 
tliat  the  Jews  'were  Ironi  their  swaddling-elothes  .  .  .  trained  to 
recognise  God  as  tlieir  Father,  and  as  the  Maker  of  the  world;  'that, 
'  having  been  tanght  the  knowledge  (of  the  laws)  from  earliest  youth, 
they  bore  in  their  souls  the  image  of  the  commandments;'^' that  'from 
their  earliest  consciousness  they  learned  the  laws,  so  as  to  have  them, 
as  it  were,  engraven  upon  the  soul;'"  and  that  they  were  'brought 
up  in  learning,'  'exercised  in  the  laws,'  'and  made  acquainted  with 
the  acts  of  their  predecessors  in  order  to  tlieir  imitation  of  them."* 

But  while  the  earliest  religious  teaching  would,  of  necessity,  come 
from  the  lips  of  the  mother,  it  was  the  father  who  was  'bound  to 
teach  his  son. ' '  To  impart  to  the  child  knowledge  of  the  Torah 
conferred  as  great  spiritual  distinction,  as  if  a  man  had  received  the 
Law  itself  on  Mount  Horeb/  Every  other  engagement,  even  the 
necessary  meal,  should  give  place  to  this  paramount  duty;  ^  nor  should 
it  be  forgotten  that,  wiiile  here  real  labour  was  necessary,  it  would 
never  prove  fruitless.''  That  man  was  of  the  profane  vulgar  (an  Am 
Jia-arets),  who  had  sons,  but  failed  to  bring  them  up  in  knowledge  of 
the  Law\'  Directly  the  child  learned  to  speak,  his  religious  instruc- 
tion was  to  begin  ^ — no  doubt,  with  such  verses  of  Holy  Scripture  as 
composed  thatpartof  the  Jewish  liturgy,  which  answers  to  our  Creed.' 
Then  would  follow  other  passages  from  the  Bible,  short  prayers,  and 
select  sayings  of  the  sages.  Special  attention  was  given  to  the  culture 
of  the  memory,  since  forgetfulness  might  prove  as  fatal  in  its  conse- 
ciuences  as  ignorance  or  neglect  of  the  Law.™  Very  early  the  child 
must  have  been  taught  what  might  be  called  his  birthday-text — some 
verse  of  Scripture  beginning,  or  ending  with,  or  at  least  containing, 
the  same  letters  as  his  Hebrew  name.  This  guardian-promise  the  child 
would  insert  in  its  daily  prayers.^  The  earliest  hymns  taught  would 
be  the  Psalms  for  the  days  of  the  week,  or  festive  Psalms,  such  as  the 
Hallel,"  or  those  connected  with  the  festive  pilgrimages  to  Zion. 

The  regular  instruction  commenced  with  the  fifth  or  sixth  year 
(according  to  strength),  when  every  child  was  sent  to  school."  There 
can  be  no  reasonable  doubt  that  at  that  time  such  schools  existed 
throughout  the  land.  We  find  references  to  them  at  almost  every 
period;  indeed,  the  existence  of  higher  schools  and  Academies  would 
not  have  been  possible  without  such  primary  instruction.    Two  Rabbis 


1  The  Shema. 

2  Com]).  '  .Sketcbo.5  of  .Te\vi.sli  Social 
Life,'  1)]).  lo!)  &c.  Tiie  enigmatic  mode 
of  woniin.i!;  and  writing  was  very  com- 
mon.    Tlui.-<,   the   year  is  marked  by  a 


verse,  generally  from  Scripture,  which 
contains  the  letters  that  give  the  numer- 
ical value  of  the  year.  These  letters  are 
indicated  by  marks  above  them. 


119  b 
Sanh.  17  // 


SCHOOLS   IN   PALESTINE.  231 

of  Jerusalem,  specially  distinguished  and  beloved  on  account  of  their     CHAP. 
educational  labours,  were  among  tlie  last  victims  of  Herod's  cruelt}."         IX 

Later  on,  tradition  ascribes  to  Joshua  the  son  of  (landa  the  introduc-  ^^^r — ' 

tion  of  schools  in  every  town,  and  the  compulsory  education  in  them  " -^".s- Ant. 

.  "^  xvii.  6.  2 

of  all  children  above  the  age  of  six."     Such  was  the  transcendent   i. BabaB. 
merit  attaching  to  this  act,  that  it  seemed  to  blot  out  the  guilt  of  the  ^^ " 
purchase  for  him  of  the  High-Priestly  oflQce  by  his  wife  Martha,  shortly 
before  the  commencement  of  the  great  Jewish  war."^     To  pass  over  "Vebam. 
the  fabulous  number  of  schools  supposed  to  have  existed  in  Jerusalem,    is  a 
tradition  had  it  that,  despite  of  this,  the  City  only  fell  because  of  the 
neglect  of  the  education  of  children.''      It  was  even  deemed  unlawful  ^^shabb. 
to  live  in  a  place  where  there  was  no  school.''     Such  a  city  deserved 
to  be  either  destroyed  or  excommunicated.''  fshabb.u.s. 

It  would  lead  too  far  to  give  details  about  the  appointment  of, 
and  provision  for,  teachers,  the  arrangements  of  the  schools,  the  method 
of  teaching,  or  the  subjects  of  study,  the  more  so  as  many  of  these 
regulations  date  from  a  period  later  than  that  under  review.    Suffice 
it  that,  from  the  teaching  of  the  alphabet  or  of  writing,  onwards  to 
the  farthest  limit  of  instruction  in  the  most  advanced  Academies  of 
tlie  Rabbis,  all  is  marked  by  extreme  care,  wisdom,  accuracy,  and  a 
moral  and  religious  purpose  as  the  ultimate  object.    For  a  long  time  it 
was  not  uncommon  to  teach  in  the  open  air;  ^  but  this  must  have  been  ?shabb. 
chiefly  in  connection  with  theological  discussions,  and  the  instruc-  MoeciK.iea 
tion  of  youths.     But  the  children  were  gathered  in  the  Synagogues, 
or  in  School-houses,^  where  at  first  they  either  stood,  teacher  and 
pupils  alike,  or  else  sat  on  the  ground  in  a  semicircle,  facing  the 
teacher,  as  it  were,  literally  to  carry  into  practice  the  prophetic  say- 
ing: '  Thine  eyes  shall  see  thy  teachers.  ">   The  introduction  of  benches  hjg.  xxx.20 
or  chairs  was  of  later  date;  l)ut  the  principle  was  always  the  same, 
that  in  respect  of  accommodation  there  was  no  distinction  between 
teacher  and  taught.^    Thus,  encircled  by  his  pupils,  as  l)y  a  crown  of 
glory  (to  use  the  language  of  Maiinonides),  the  teacher — generally  the 
Chazzan,  or  Officer  of  the  Synagogue' — should  impart  to  them  the  i  For  ex- 
precious  knowledge  of  the  Law,  with  constant  adaptation  to  their  capa-  stTabb!  11  a 
city,  with  unwearied  patience,  intense  earnestness,  strictness  tempered 
by  kindness,  but,  above  all,  with  the  highest  object  of  their  training 
ever  in  view.   To  keep  children  from  all  contact  with  vice;  to  train  them 


1  He  was  succeeded  by  Matthias,  the  of  Ischoli,  with  its  various  derivations, 

son  of  Theophiios,  under  whose  Pontiti-  evidently  from  the  Greek  crxoXi),  sc/wla. 
cate  the  war  against  Rome  began.  •*  Tiie  proof-passages  from  tlit^  Talmud 

'^  Among   the    names    by   wliicli   tlie  are  collated  by  Dr.  Mdrrus  (Pa:'dagog. 

schools  are  designated  there  is  also  that  d.  Isr.  Volkes,  ii.  pp.  10,  17). 


232  FRO>I   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      tt)  liciitloncss.  cvoii  when  l)ittercst  \\i-(iii.ii"  had  been  received;  to  show 
11         sill  ill  its  repulsiveness,  rather  than  to  terrify  ])\  its  consequences; 

"— ~Y-"*-^  to  train  to  strict  truthfuhiess;  to  avoid  all  that  might  lead  to  dis- 
agreeable or  indelicate  thoughts;  and  to  do  all  this  without  showing 
partiality,  without  cither  undue  severity,  or  laxity  of  discipline, 
with  judicious  increase  of  study  and  work,  with  careful  attention  to 
thoroughness  in  acquiring  knowledge — all  tliis  and  more  constituted 
the  ideal  set  before  the  teacher,  and  made  his  office  of  such  high 
esteem  in  Israel. 

Roughly  classifying  the  subjects  of  study,  it  was  held,  that,  up  to 
ten  years  of  age,  the  Bible  exclusively  should  be  the  text-book;  from 
ten  to  fifteen,  the  Mishnah,  or  traditional  law;  after  that  age,  the 
student  should  enter  on  those  theological  discussions  which  occupied 

»At).  V.  21  time  and  attention  in  the  higher  Academies  of  the  Rabbis."  Not 
that  this  progression  would  always  be  made.  For,  if  after  three,  or, 
at  most,  five  years  of  tuition — that  is,  after  having  fairly  entered  on 
Mishnic  studies — the  child  had  not  shown  decided  aptitude,  little 
hope  was  to  be  entertained  of  his  future.  The  study  of  the  Bible 
commenced  with  that  of  the  Book  of  Leviticus.'  Thence  it  passed 
to  the  other  parts  of  the  Pentateuch;  then  to  the  Prophets;  and, 
finally,  to  the  Hagiographa.  What  now  constitutes  the  Gemara  or 
Talmud  was  taught  in  the  Academies,  to  which  access  could  not  be 
gained  till  after  the  age  of  fifteen.  Care  was  taken  not  to  send  a 
child  too  early  to  school,  nor  to  overwork  him  when  there.  For  this 
purpose  the  school-hours  were  fixed,  and  attendance  shortened  during 
the  summer-months. 

The  teaching  in  school  would,  of  course,  be  greatly  aided  by  the 
services  of  the  Synagogue,  and  the  deeper  influences  of  home-life. 
We  know  that,  even  in  the  troublous  times  which  preceded  the  rising 
of  the  Maccabees,  the  possession  of  parts  or  the  whole  of  the  Old 
Testament  (whether  in  the  original  or  the  LXX.  rendering)  was  so 
common,  that  during  the  great  persecutions  a  regular  search  was 
made  throughout  the  land  for  every  copy  of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 

l;_i  Ma.-c.  1.  those  puuishcd  who  possessed  them.''  After  the  triumph  of  the  Macca- 

'.Aw.Aiit.xii.   bees,  these  copies  of  the  Bible  would,  of  course,  be  greatly  multi- 

5.  4  , 

plied.    And,  although  perhaps  only  the  wealthy  could  have  purchased 

^  ^?/^■».'7^■^^sf Academic.  Dissert  p.  335)  and  sacrifices  pure,  it  is  fitting  that  the 

curiously  suggests,  that  tiiis  was  done  to  pure   should  busy  themselves  with   the 

teach  a  child  its  guilt  and  the  need  of  pure.     The  obvious  reason  seems,  that 

justification.     The  Rabbinical   interi)re-  Leviticus  treated  of  the  ordinances  with 

tation  ( N'ayyikra  R.  7)  is  at  least  equally  which  every  Jew  ought  to   have  been 

far-fetched:  that,  us  children  are    pure  acquainted. 


THE   CHILD-LIFE   OF  JESUS.  233 

a  MS.  of  the  whole  Old  Testainout  in  Hebrew,  yet  some  portion  or     chap. 
portions  of  the  AVord  of  God,  in  the  original,  would  form  the  most         IX 

cherished  treasure  of  every  pious  houselKjld.     Besides,  a  school  for  ^ — ^( 

Bible-study  was  attached  to  every  academv,^  in  which  coi)ies  of  the  :.^.^}'-  ^I'^s- 

Holy  Scripture  would  be  kept.     From  anxious  care  to  preserve  the 

integrity  of  the  text,  it  was  deemed  unlawful  to  make  copies  of  small 

portions  of  a  book  of  Scripture.^     But  exception  was  made  of  certain 

sections  which  Avere  copied  for  the  instruction  of  children.     Among 

them,  the  history  of  the  Creation  to  tliat  of  the.  Flood;  Lev.  i.-ix. ; 

and  Numb.  i.-x.  35,  are  sijccially  mentioned."  bsopher.  v. 

'  '  •'  _  9,  p.  25  6; 

It  was  in  such  circumstances,  and  under  such  influences,  that  the  giu  eoa; 

'  "  Jer.  Meg. 

early  years  of  Jesus  passed.  To  go  beyond  this,  and  to  attempt  lifting  1^  «;  tos. 
the  veil  which  lies  over  His  Child-History, would  not  only  be  pre- 
sumptuous," but  involve  us  in  anachronisms.  Fain  would  we  know 
it,  whether  the  Child  Jesus  frequented  the  Synagogue  School;  who 
was  His  teacher,  and  who  those  who  sat  beside  Him  on  the  ground, 
earnestly  gazing  on  the  face  of  Him  Who  repeated  the  sacrificial  ordi- 
nances in  the  Book  of  Leviticus,  that  were  all  to  be  fulfilled  in  Him. 
But  it  is  all  '  a  mystery  of  Godliness.'  We  do  not  even  know  quite 
certainly  whether  the  school-system  had,  at  that  time,  extended  to  far- 
off  Nazareth;  nor  whether  the  order  and  method  which  have  been 
described  were  universally  observed  at  that  time.  In  all  probability, 
however,  there  was  such  a  school  in  Nazareth,  and,  if  so,  the  Child- 
Saviour  would  conform  to  the  general  practice  of  attendance.  We 
may  thus,  still  with  deepest  reverence,  think  of  Him  as  learning  His 
earliest  earthly  lesson  from  the  Book  of  Lex^iticus.  Learned  Rabbis 
there  were  not  in  Nazareth — either  then  or  afterwards.^  He  would 
attend  the  services  of  the  Synagogue,  where  Moses  and  the  prophets 


1  Herzfehl  ( jesch.  d.  Y.  Isr.  iii.  p. 267,  specimens  of  th!^  '  quietffossip  '  a  number 
note)  strangely  misquotes  and  misinter-  of  Rabbinic  quotations  from  the  German 
prets  tills  matter.  Comp.  Dr.  MMer,  translation  in  D»A-es'  'Rabbinische  Blu- 
Massecb.  Sofer.  p.  75.  menlese.'    To  this  it  is  siirticient  answer: 

2  The  most  painful. instances  of  these  1.  There  were  no  such  leai'ued  Rabins  in 
are  the  legendary  accounts  of  the  early  Nazareth.     2.  If   there   had   been,  they 

■  history   of    Christ    in   the    Apocryi)hal  would  not  have  been  visitors  in  the  house 

Gospels  (well  collated  by  Keim,  i.  2,  pp.  of  Joseph.     3.  If  tliey  had  been  visitors 

413^68,  pnssi))i).     But  later  writers  are  there,  they  would  not  have  spoken  what 

unfortunately  not  wholly  free  from  the  Dr.  Geikie  quotes  from  Dukes,  since  some 

charge.  of  the  extracts  are  from  medianal  books, 

■*  I  must  here  protest  against  the  in-  and    only  one  a  proverbial  expression, 

troduction  of  imaginary  '  Evening  Scenes  4.     Even  if  they  had  so  spoken,  it  would 

in  Nazareth,'    when,  according  to   Dr.  at  least  have  been   in  the  words  which 

Geikie,  '  friends  or  neighbours  of  Joseph's  Dukes  has  translated,  without  the  changes 

circle  would  meet  for  an    hour's   quiet  and  additions  which   Dr.  Geikie  has  in- 

gossip.'     Dr.  Geikie  here  introduces  as  troduced  in  some  instances. 


234 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 

n 


■'St.  Luke 
iv.  16 


'>  St.  Matt. 

V.  18 

c  St.  Luke 
xvl.  17 


were  read,  and,  as  afterwards  by  Himself,''  occasional  addresses 
delivered.'  That -His  was  pre-eminently  a  pious  home  in  the  highest 
sense,  it  seems  almost  irreverent  to  say.  From  His  intimate  familiarity 
with  Holy  Scripture,  in  its  every  detail,  we  may  be  allowed  to  infer 
that  the  home  of  Nazareth,  however  humble,  possessed  a  precious 
coi)y  of  the  Sacred  Volume  in  its  entirety.  At  any  rate,  we  know 
that  from  earliest  childhood  it  must  have  formed  the  meat  and  drink 
of  the  Grod-Man.  The  words  of  the  Lord,  as  recorded  by  St.  Matthew " 
and  St.  Luke,"  also  imply  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  which  He  read 
were  in  the  original  Hebrew,  and  that  they  were  written  in  the  square, 
or  Assyrian,  characters.^  Indeed,  as  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees 
always  appealed  to  the  Scriptures  in  the  original,  Jesus  could  not  have 
met  them  on  any  other  ground,  and  it  was  this  which  gave  such  point  to 
His  frequent  expostulations  with  them:   '  Have  ye  not  read?' 

But  far  other  thoughts  than  theirs  gathered  around  His  study  of 
the  Old  Testament  Scriptures.  When  comparing  their  long  discus- 
sions on  the  letter  and  law  of  Scripture  with  His  references  to  the 
Word  of  God,  it  seems  as  if  it  were  quite  another  book  which  was 
handled.  As  we  gaze  into  the  vast  glory  of  meaning  which  He  opens 
to  us;  follow  the  shining  track  of  heavenward  living  to  which  He 
points;  behold  the  lines  of  symbol,  type,  and  prediction  converging 
in  the  grand  unity  of  that  Kingdom  which  became  reality  in  Him; 
or  listen  as,  alternately,  some  question  of  His  seems  to  rive  the  darkness, 
as  with  flash  of  sudden  light,  or  some  sweet  promise  of  old  to  lull 
the  storm,  some  earnest  lesson  to  quiet  the  tossing  waves — we  catch 
faint,  it  may  be  far-off,  glimpses  of  how,  in  that  early  Child-life,  when 
the  Holy  Scriptures  were  His  special  study.  He  must  have  read  them, 
and  what  thoughts  must  have  been  kindled  by  their  light.  And 
thus  ])etter  than  before  can  we  understand  it:  '  And  the  Child  grew, 
and  waxed  strong  in  spirit,  filled  with  wisdom,  and  the  grace  of  God 
was  upon  Him.' 


1  See  Book  III.,  the  chapter  on  'Tlie 
Synagoo;ue  of  Nazareth.' 

2  This  may  be  gathered  even  from  such 


an  expression  as  '  One  iota,  or  one  little 
hook,' — not  'tittle  '  as  in  the  A.V. 


GOING   UP   TO   JERU.SALEM.  235 


5-7 


CHAPTER    X. 

IN  THE  HOUSE  OP  HIS  HEAVENLY,  AND  IN  THE  HOME  OF  HIS  EARTHLY 
FATHER — THE  TEMPLE  OF  JERUSALEM — THE  RETIREMENT  AT  NAZA- 
RETH. 

(St.  Luke  ii.  41-52.) 

Once  only  is  the  great  silence,  which  lies  on  the  history  of  Christ's  chap. 
early  life,  broken.  It  is  to  record  what  took  place  on  His  tirst  visit  to  X 
the  Temple,  What  this  meant,  even  to  an  ordinary  devout  Jew,  may  ^— ^r-^ 
easily  be  imagined.  Where  life  and  religion  were  so  intertwined, 
and  both  in  such  organic  connection  with  the  Temple  and  the  people 
of  Israel,  every  thoughtful  Israelite  must  have  felt  as  if  his  real  life 
were  not  in  what  was  around,  but  ran  up  into  the  grand  unity  of  the 
people  of  God,  and  were  compassed  by  the  halo  of  its  sanctity.  To  him 
it  would  be  true  in  the  deepest  sense,  that,  so  to  speak,  each  Israelite 
was  born  in  Zion,  as,  assuredly,  all  the  well-springs  of  his  life  were 
there."  It  was,  therefore,  not  merely  the  natural  eagerness  to  see  the  ^Ps.ixsxvn. 
City  of  their  God  and  of  their  fathers,  glorious  Jerusalem;  nor  yet  the 
lawful  enthusiasm,  national  or  religious,  which  would  kindle  at  the 
thought  of  '  our  feet '  standing  within  those  gates,  through  which 
priests,  prophets,  and  kings  had  passed;  but  far  deeper  feelings  which 
would  make  glad,  when  it  was  said:  'Let  us  go  into  the  house  of 
Jehovah.'  They  were  not  ruins  to  which  precious  memories  clung, 
nor  did  the  great  hope  seem  to  lie  afar  off,  behind  the  evening-mist. 
But  'glorious  things  were  spoken  of  Zion,  the  City  of  God' — in  the 
past,  and  in  the  near  future  '  the  thrones  of  David  '  were  to  be  set 
within  her  walls,  and  amidst  her  palaces."  "Ps. 

In  strict  law,  personal  observance  of  the  ordinances,  and  hence  at- 
tendance on  the  feasts  at  Jerusalem,  devolved  on  a  youth  only  when 
he  was  of  age,  that  is,  at  thirteen  years.  Then  he  became  what  was 
called  'a  son  of  the  Commandment,'  or  'of  the  Torah.'"  But,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  the  legal  age  was  in  this  respect  anticipated  by  two 
years,  or  at  least  by  one.'*   It  was  in  accordance  with  this  custom,  that,^ 

•  Comp.  also  .l/r^//«o?i«fe,  Hilkh.Cliac;.       went  to  tlic  Tem])le  because  He  was  'a 
ii.     The  common  statement,  tliat  Jesus       Son  of  the  Commandment,'  is  obviously 


1-5 


236  FKOM   BETIILKHEM   TO   JOllDAN. 

BOOK      on  the  lirst  Piisclia  after  Jcf^us  had  passed  His  twell'th  year,  His 
II         Parents  took  Him  with  them  in  the  '  company  '  oi'  the  Nazarenes  to 

" ■> '  Jerusalem.     The  text  seems  to  indicate,  that  it  was  their  wont '  to  go 

up  to  the  Temple;  and  we  mark  that,  although  women  were  not  bound 
j^  jor  Kicui.  to  make  such  personal  appearance,"  Mary  gladly  availed  herself  of 
what  seems  to  have  been  the  direction  of  Hillel  (followed  also  by 
other  religious  women,  mentioned  in  Rabbinic  writings),  to  go  up  to 
the  solemn  services  of  the  Sanctuary.  Politically,  times  had  changed. 
i>From4       Tiic  wcak  and  wicked  rule  of  Archelaus  had  lasted  only  nine  years," 

B.C.to6A.D.  .  nil  •  1    •  1  T  •     1        T 

when,  m  consequence  oi  the  charges  against  him,  he  was  banished  to 
Gaul.  Juda?a,  Samaria  and  Idumcea  were  now  incorporated  into  the 
Roman  province  of  Syria,  under  its  Governor,  or  Legate.  The  special 
administration  of  that  part  of  Palestine  was,  however,  entrusted  to  a 
Procurator^  whose  ordinary  residence  w^as  at  Cffisarea.  It  will  be 
remembered,  that  the  Jews  themselves  had  desired  some  such  arrange- 
ment, in  the  vain  hope  that,  freed  from  the  tyranny  of  the  Herodians, 
they  might  enjoy  the  semi-independence  of  their  brethren  in  the 
Grecian  cities.  But  they  found  it  otherwise.  Their  privileges  were 
not  secured  to  them;  their  religious  feelings  and  prejudices  were 
constantly,  though  perhaps  not  intentionally,  outraged;^  and  their 
Sanhedrin  shorn  of  its  real  power,  though  the  Romans  would  probably 
not  interfere  in  what  might  be  regarded  as  purely  religious  questions. 
Indeed,  the  very  presence  of  the  Roman  power  in  Jerusalem  was  a 
constant  ofience,  and  must  necessarily  have  issued  in  a  life  and  death 
struggle.  One  of  the  first  measures  of  the  new  Legate  of  Syria, 
'^6-ii(?)  p.  Sulpicius  Quirinius,"  after  confiscating  the  ill-gotten  wealth  of 
Archelaus,  was  to  order  a  census  in  Palestine,  with  the  view  of  fixing 
d  Acts V.  37;  tlic  taxatiou  of  the  country.**  The  popular  excitement  which  this 
xviii.°.'i  called  forth  was  due,  probably,  not  so  much  to  opposition  on  principle,^ 
as  to  this,  that  the  census  was  regarded  as  the  badge  of  servitude,  and 

erroneous.  All  the  more  remarkable,  But  what  rendered  Rome  so  obnoxious 
on  the  other  hand,  is  St.  Lulve's  accurate  to  Palestine  was  the  cidtus  of  the  Em- 
knowledge  of  Jewish  customs,  and  all  peror,  as  the  symbol  and  imijersonation 
themoreantitheticto  the  mythical  theorj'  of  Imperial  Rome.  On  this  c»//?/.s  Rome 
the  circumstance,  that  he  places  this  re-  •  insistetl  in  all  countries,  not  perhaps  so 
markable  event  in  the  twelfth  year  of  much  on  religious  grounds  as  on  i)oliti- 
Jesus'  life,  and  not  when  He  became  '  a  cal,  as  being  tlie  exi)ression  of  loyalty  to 
Sou  of  the  Law.'  the  empire.     But  in  Judica  this  cidtus 

^  We  take  as  the  more  correct  reading  necessarily  met  resistance  to  the  death, 

that  which  puts  the  participle  in  the  jire-  (Comp.  Schneckpnlmrger,  Neutest.  Zeit- 

sent  tense  {a.va(5aivdvra}i'),  and  not  in  gesch.  pp.  40-61.) 

the  aorist.  ■'  This   view,    for   whicli    there   is   no 

'■^  The   Romans  were   tolerant  of   the  historic  foundation,   is   urged  by  tliose 

religion  of  all  sul)ject  nations — except-  whose  interest  it  is  to  deny  the  possi- 

ing  only  Gaul  and  Carthage.     This  for  bility  of  a  census  during  the  reign  of 

reasons  which  cannot  here  be  discussed.  Herod. 


THE    •NATIONALISTS'   IN   THEIR   PtELATION   TO   THH    '  KIN(;i)O.M.'  237 

ineoiiij)alil)I('  with  the  'I'heocratic  cluiractor  of  Israel.'  Had  a  census 
been  considered  absulntely  contrary  to  tlie  Law,  the  leadinjj;-  Kahbis 
wouhl  never  have  submitted  to  it;-  nor  wouhl  the  popular  resistance 
to  the  measure  of  (i^uirinius  have  been  quelled  by  the  representations 
of  the  Ilio'h-Priest  Joazar.  IJut,  althou.ti'h  through  his  inliiicnce  the 
census  was  allowed  to  be  taken,  the  i)oi)ular  agitation  was  not  sup- 
pressed. Indeed,  that  movement  formed  part  of  the  history  of  the 
time,  and  not  only  afl'ected  political  and  religious  parties  in  the  land, 
but  must  have  been  presented  to  the  mind  of  Jesus  Himself,  since, 
as  will  be  shown,  it  had  a  representative  within  His  own  family  circle. 

This  accession  of  Herod,  misnamed  the  Great,  marked  a  period  in 
Jewish  history,  which  closed  with  the  war  of  despair  against  Rome 
and  the  flames  of  Jerusalem  and  the  Temple.  It  gave  rise  to  the 
appearance  of  what  Josephus,  despite  his  misrepresentation  of  them, 
rightl}^  calls  a  fourth  party — besides  the  Pharisees,  Sadducees,  and 
Essenes — that  of  the  Nationalists:'  A  deeper  and  more  independent  "Ant.xvm. 
view  of  the  history  of  the  times  would,  perhaps,  lead  us  to  regard  the 
whole  country  as  ranged  either  with  or  against  that  party.  As  after- 
wards expressed  in  its  purest  and  simplest  form,  their  watchword  was, 
negatively,  to  call  no  human  being  their  absolute  \ov(\-,^'  positively,  i>Ant.xviii. 
that  God  alone  was  to  lead  as  absolute  Lord."  It  was,  in  fact,  a  revival 
of  the  Maccabean  movement,  perhaps  more  fully  in  its  national  than 
in  its  religious  aspect,  although  the  two  could  scarcely  be  separated 
in  Israel,  and  their  motto  almost  reads  like  that  which  according  to 
some,  furnished  the  letters  whence  the  name  Maccabee  '^  was  composed :  ^22*: '' 
Jii  C'amochah  /jaelim  Jehovah,  'Who  like  Thee  among  the  gods, 
Jehovah? '"  It  is  characteristic  of  the  times  and  religious  tendencies,  'Ex.  xv.  n 
that  their  followers  were  no  more  called,  as  before,  Assideans  or  Clia- 
sidim,  '■  the  pious,'  but  Zealots  {^f^Xajrai),  or  by  the  Hebrew  equivalent 
Qannaim  (Canana^ans,  not  ^Canaanites,'  as  in  A.Y.)  The  real  home 
of  that  party  was  not  Judsea  nor  Jerusalem,  but  Galilee. 

Quite  other,  and  indeed  antagonistic,  tendencies  prevailed  in  the 
stronghold  of  the  Herodians,  Sadducees,  and  Pharisees.  Of  the  latter 
only  a  small  portion  had  any  real  symjiathy  with  the  national  move- 
ment. Each  party  followed  its  own  direction.  The  Essenes,  absorbed 
in  theosophic  speculations,  not  untinged  with  Eastern  mysticism,  with- 
drew from  all  contact  with  the  world,  and  practiced  an  ascetic  life. 
With  them,  whatever  individuals  may  have  felt,  no  such  movement 
could  have  originated;  nor  yet  with  the  Herodians  or  Boethusians,  who 

'  That  these  were  the  sole  grouiuis  of      Jos.  Ant.  xviii.  1.  1.  6. 
resistance  to  the  census,  appears  from  -  As  unquestional)ly  tlioy  did. 


c  u.  s.  and 
Jew.  War 
vii.  10.  1 


L'3S 


FROM    I'.ETIILEHEM   TU   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


•'  Judy.  xi. 
3-6 


'•  Ant.  xiv. 
9.  2-5 

■;  Sanh.  19  a 


d  yoma  39  b 


(■(»inl)in('(l  strictly  Pharisaic  views  with  llcrodian  political  partisau- 
sliij);  nor  yet  with  the  Sadducces;  nor,  finally,  with  what  constituted 
the  groat  bulk  of  the  Eabbinist  party,  the  School  of  Ilillel.  But  the 
brave,  free  Hio-hlanders  of  Galilee,  and  of  the  region  across  their 
glorious  lake,  seemed  to  have  inherited  the  spirit  of  Jephthah,*  and- 
to  have  treasured  as  their  ideal — alas!  often  wrongly  apprehended — 
their  own  Elijah,  as,  descending  in  wild,  shaggy  garb  from  the  moun- 
tains of  Gilead,  he  did  battle  against  all  the  might  of  Ahab  and 
Jezebel.  Their  enthusiasm  could  not  be  kindled  ])y  the  logical 
subtleties  of  the  Schools,  but  their  hearts  burned  within  them  for  their 
God,  their  land,  their  people,  their  religion,  and  their  freedom. 

It  was  in  Galilee,  accordingly,  that  such  wild,  irregular  resistance 
to  Herod  at  the  outset  of  his  career,  as  could  be  offered,  was  organised 
by  guerilla  bands,  which  traversed  the  country,  and  owned  one  Ezekias 
as  their  leader.  Although  Josephus  calls  them  '  robbers, '  a  far  ditferent 
estimate  of  them  obtained  in  Jerusalem,  where,  as  we  remember,  the 
Sanhedrin  summoned  Herod  to  answer  for  the  execution  of  Esckias. 
What  followed  is  told  in  substantially  the  same  manner,  though  with 
dirterence  of  form'  and,  sometimes,  nomenclature,  by  Josephus,''  and 
in  the  Talmud.'  The  story  has  already  been  related  in  another 
connection.  Suffice  it  that,  after  the  accession  of  Herod,  the  Sanhe- 
drin became  a  shadow  of  itself.  It  was  packed  with  Sadducees  and 
Priests  of  the  King's  nomination,  and  with  Doctors  of  the  canon-law, 
whose  only  aim  was  to  pursue  in  peace  their  subtleties;  who  had  not, 
and,  from  their  contempt  of  the  people,  could  not  have,  any  real 
sympathy  with  national  aspirations;  and  whose  ideal  heavenly  King- 
dom was  a  miraculous,  heaven-instituted,  absolute  rule  of  Rabbis. 
Accordingly,  the  national  movement,  as  it  afterwards  developed, 
received  neither  the  sympathy  nor  the  support  of  leading  Rabbis. 
Perhaps  the  most  gross  manifestation  of  this  was  exhibited,  shortly 
before  the  taking  of  Jerusalem,  b^'  R.  Jochanan  ben  Saccai,  the  most 
renowned  among  its  teachers.  Almost  unmoved  he  had  witnessed  the 
portent  of  the  opening  of  the  Temple-doors  by  an  unseen  Hand, 
which,  by  an  interpretation  of  Zech.  xi.  1,  was  popularly  regarded  as 
betokening  its  speedy  destruction.'' ^  There  is  cynicism,  as  well  as 
want  of  sympathy,  in  the  story  recorded  by  tradition,  that  when,  in 
the  straits  of  famine  during  the  siege,  Jochanan  saw  people  eagerly 


1  The  Tahiiud  i.s  never  to  be  trusted 
as  to  historical  details.  Often  it  seems 
purposely  to  alter,  when  it  intends  the 
experienced  student  to  read  between 
the  lines,  while  at  other  times  it  presents 


a  story  in  what  may  be  called  an  alle- 
gorical form. 

2  The  designation  '  Lebanon '  is  often 
applied  in  Talnnulic  writings  to  the 
Temple. 


HILLEL   AND   SHAMMAI   IN   THEIR   RELATION   TO   NATIONALISM. 


239 


feasting:  on  soup  made  from  straw,  ho  scouted  the  idea  of  sueli  a 
garrison  resisting  Vespasian  and  immediate!  y  resolved  to  leave  the 
city/  In  fact,we  have  distinct  evidence  that  R.  Jochanan  had,  as  leader 
of  the  School  of  Hillel,  used  all  his  influence,  although  in  vain,  to 
persuade  the  people  to  submission  to  Rome." 

We  can  understand  it,  how  this  school  had  taken  so  little  interest 
in  anything  purely  national.  Generally  only  one  side  of  the  charac- 
ter of  Hillel  has  heen  presented  by  writers,  and  even  this  in  greatly 
exaggerated  language.  His  much  lauded  gentleness,  peacefulness, 
and  charity  were  rather  negative  than  positive  qualities.  He  was  a 
philosophic  Rab.bi,  whose  real  interest  lay  in  a  far  other  direction 
than  that  of  sympathy  with  the  people — and  whose  motto  seemed, 
indeed,  to  imply,  '  We,  the  sages,  are  the  people  of  God ;  but  this  people, 
who  know  not  the  Law,  are  cursed.' "  Afar  deeper  feeling,  and  intense, 
though  misguided  earnestness  pervaded  the  School  of  Shammai.  It 
was  in  the  minority,  but  it  sympathised  with  the  aspirations  of  the 
people.  It  was  not  philosophic  nor  eclectic,  but  intensely  national.  It 
opposed  all  approach  to,  and  by,  strangers;  it  dealt  harshly  with  pros- 
elytes,*^ even  the  most  distinguished  (such  as  Akylas  or  Onkelos);''  it 
passed,  by  first  murdering  a  number  of  Hillelites  who  had  come  to  the 
deliberative  assembly,  eighteen  decrees,  of  which  the  object  was  to 
prevent  all  intercourse  with  Gentiles;^  and  it  furnished  leaders  or 
supporters  of  the  national  movement. 

We  have  marked  the  rise  of  the  Nationalist  party  in  Galilee  at  the 
time  of  Herod's    first  appearance  on  the  scene,  and  learned  how 


CHAR 
X 


"  Midr.  R. 
on  Lament. 
i.  5 ;  ed. 
Warali.  vol. 
ill.  p.  GO  a 

*  Ab.  de  K. 
Nathan  4 


•  Comp.  Ab. 


<JShabb.31i 
E  Ber.  K.  70 


1  This  celebrated  meetin<j;.  of  wliicli, 
however,  but  t'cant  aiifl  incoherent  no- 
tices are  left  us  (Sliabb.  i.  7  and  specially 
in  the  Jer.  Talmud  on  thepassaeie  p.  3  c, 
d;  and  .Shald).  17  a\  Tos.  Sha'bb.  i.  2), 
took  jtlace  in  the  house  of  Chananyah, 
ben  Chizqiyah,  ben  Garon,  anotedShani- 
maite.  On  arriving,  many  of  the  Hillel- 
ites were  killed  in  the  lower  room,  and 
then  a  majority  of  Shammaites  carried  the 
so-called  eighteen  decrees.  The  first 
twelve  forbade  the  purchase  of  the  most 
necessary  articles  of  diet  from  Gentiles; 
the  next  five  forbade  the  learninn- of  their 
lanp;uap:e,  declared  their  testimony  in- 
valid, and  their  offerings  unlawful,  and 
interdicted  all  intercourse  with  them ; 
while  the  last  referred  to  first  fruits.  It 
was  on  the  ground  of  these  decrees  that 
the  hitherto  customary  burnt-ofl'ering  for 
the  Emperor  was  intermitted,  which  was 
really  a  declaration  of  war  against  Rome. 
Tlie  date  of  tlicse  decrees  was  probably 
about  four  years  before  the  destruction 


of  the  Temple  (See  Griitz,  Gesch.  d.  Juden, 
vol.  iii.  i)p.  41)4-502).  These  decrees  were 
carried  by  the  infiuence  of  R.  Eleazar, 
son  of  Chanaiiyali  the  High-Priest,  a  very 
wealthy  man,  whose  fatlier  and  brother 
belonged  to  tlie  opposite  or  peace  party. 
It  was  on  the  i)roposal  of  this  strict 
Shammaite  tliat  the  ottering  for  the 
Emi^eror  was  intermitted  {Jos.  Jew.  "War 
ii.  17.  2,  8).  Indeed,  it  is  impossible  to 
over-estimate  the  influence  of  these 
Shammaite  decrees  on  the  great  war 
with  Rome.  Eleazar,  though  opi)osedto 
the  extreme  party,  one  of  whose  cl)iefs  lie 
took  and  killed,  was  one  of  the  leaders  of 
the  national  party  in  the  war  (War  ii. 
17.  9,  10).  There  is,  however,  some  con- 
fusion about  various  persons  who  bore 
the  same  name.  It  is  impossible  in  this 
place  to  mention  the  various  Shammaites 
who  took  jtart  in  the  last  Jewish  war. 
Suflice  it  to  indicate  the  tendency  of  tliat 
School, 


240  FROM    UlCTIILKIIE-M   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      mercilessly  lie  tried  to  suppress  it:  iirst,  ])y  the  execution  of  Ezeklas 
II         and  his  adherents,  and  afterwards,  when  he  became  King  of  Judaea,  by 

"^ — ".^ — -"  the  slaughter  of  the  Sanhedrists.  The  consequence  of  this  unspar- 
ing severity  was  to  give  Rabbiuism  a  different  direction.  The  School 
of  Hillel  which  henceforth  commanded  the  majority,  were  men  of  no 
political  colour,  theological  theorists,  self-seeking  Jurists,  vain  rather 
than  ambitious.  The  minority,  represented  by  tlie  School  of  Sham- 
mai,  were  Nationalists.  Defective  and  even  false  as  both  tendencies 
were,  there  was  certainly  more  hope,  as  regarded  the  Kingdom  of 
God,  of  the  Nationalists  than  of  the  Sophists  and  Jurists.  It  was,  of 
course,  the  policy  of  Herod  to  suppress  all  national  aspirations.  No 
one  understood  the  meaning  of  Jewish  Nationalism  so  Avell  as  he;  no  one 
ever  opposed  it  so  systematically.  There  was  internal  fitness,  so  to 
speak,  in  his  attempt  to  kill  the  King  of  the  Jews  among  the  infants 
of  Bethlehem.  The  murder  of  the  Sanhedrists,  with  the  consequent 
new  anti-Messianic  tendency  of  Rabbinism,  was  one  measure  in  that 
direction;  the  various  appointments  which  Herod  made  to  the  High- 
Priesthood  another.  And  yet  it  was  not  easy,  even  in  those  times, 
to  deprive  the  Pontificate  of  its  power  and  influence.  The  High- 
Priest  was  still  the  representative  of  the  religious  life  of  the  people, 
and  he  acted  on  all  occasions,  when  the  question  under  discussion  was 
not  one  exclusively  of  subtle  canon-law,  as  the  President  of  the  San- 
hedrin,  in  which,  indeed,  the  members  of  his  family   had  evidently 

"Actsiv.  6  seat  and  vote."^  The  four  families  ^  from  which,  with  few  exceptions, 
the  High-Priest — however  often  changed — were  chosen,  al)sorbed  the 
wealth,  and  commanded  the  influence,  of  a  state-endowed  establish- 
ment, in  its  worst  times.  It  was,  therefore,  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  make  wise  choice  of  the  High-Priest.  With  the  exception  of  the 
brief  tenure  by  Aristobulus,  the  last  of  the  Maccabees — whose  ap- 
pointment, too  soon  followed  by  his  murder,  was  at  the  time  a  neces- 
sity— all  the  Ilerodian  High-Priests  were  non-Palestinians.  A  keener 
t>low  than  this  could  not  have  been  dealt  at  Nationalism. 

The  same  contempt  for  the  High-Priesthood  characterised  the 
brief  reign  of  Archelaus.  On  his  death-bed,  Herod  had  appointed  to 
the  Pontificate  Joazar,  a  son  of  Boethos,  the  wealthy  Alexandrian 
priest,  whose  daughter,  Mariamme  II.,  he  had  married.  The  Boethu- 
sian  family,  allied  to  Herod,  formed  a  party — the  Herodians — who 
combined  strict  Pharisaic  views  with  devotion  to  the  reigning  family.'^ 
Joazar  took  the  popular  part  against  Archelaus,   on  his  accession. 

'  See  the  list  of  Ilij^li-Priests  in  Ap-      tliaii  four  Tli^li-Priosts  during  tlie  period 
pendix  V[.  between  the  reitrn  of  Ilerod  and  that  of 

^  The  Boethusians  furnished  no  fewer       Aicrippa  I.  (41  a.d.). 


THE    HIGH-PRIESTS    AND    THE    NATIONALIST    PARTY.  241 

For  this  he  was  (lei)riv('(l  of  his  diii'iiity  in  lavoui-  ol'  iiiiotlici-  son  of  CHAP. 
Boethos,   Elcazar  by  name.      But  tlie  mood  of  Arciiehius  was  lickle  X 
— perhaps  he  was  distrustful  of  the  family  of  Boethos.     At  any  rate,  ^^ — r — ' 
Eleazar  had  to  give  place  to   Jesus,  the  son  of  Sie,  an  otherwise  un- 
known individual.     At  the  time  of  the  taxing  of  (^uirinius  we  find 
Joazar  again  in  office,*  apparently  restored  to  it  by  the  multitude,  "Ant. xvui. 
wliich,  having  taken  matters  into  its  own  hands  at  the  change  of 
government,  recalled  one  who  had  formerly  favoured  national  aspira- 
tions.''    It  is  thus  that  we  explain  his  influence  with  the  people,  in  lAnt.  xvui. 

•  2   1 

persuading  them  to  submit  to  the  Roman  taxation. 

But  if  Joazar  had  succeeded  with  the  unthinking  populace,  he 
failed  to  conciliate  the  more  advanced  of  his  own  party,  and,  as  the 
event  proved,  the  Roman  authorities  also,  whose  favour  he  had 
hoped  to  gain.  It  will  be  remembered,  that  the  Nationalist  party 
— or  '  Zealots,  '  as  they  were  afterwards  called — first  ai)peared  in 
those  guerilla-bands  which  traversed  Galilee  under  the  leadership 
of  Ezekias,  whom  Herod  executed.  But  the  National  party  was 
not  destroyed,  only  held  in  check,  during  his  iron  reign.  It  was 
once  more  the  family  of  Ezekias  that  headed  the  movement. 
During  the  civil  war  wliich  followed  the  accession  of  Archelaus,  or 
rather  was  carried  on  wliile  he  was  pleading  his  cause  in  Rome,  the 
standard  of  the  Nationalists  was  again  raised  in  Galilee.  Judas, 
the  son  of  Ezekias,  took  possession  of  the  city  of  Sepphoris,  and 
armed  his  followers  from  the  royal  arsenal  there.  At  that  time,  as 
we  know,  the  High-Priest  Joazar  sympathised,  at  least  indirectly, 
with  the  Nationalists.  The  rising,  which  indeed  was  general  through- 
out Palestine,  was  suppressed  by  fire  and  sword,  and  the  sons  of 
Herod  were  enabled  to  enter  on  their  possessions.  But  when,  after  the 
deposition  of  Archelaus,  Joazar  persuaded  the  people  to  submit  to 
the  taxing  of  Quirinius,  Judas  was  not  disposed  to  tbllow  what  he 
regarded  as  the  treacherous  lead  of  the  Pontiff'.  In  conjunction 
with  a  Shanimaite  Ra1)bi,  Sadduk,  he  raised  again  the  standard  of 
revolt,  although  once  more  imsuccessfully."  How  the  Hillelites  looked  -lAnt.  xvm. 
upon  this  movement,  we  gather  even  from  the  slighting  allusion  of 
Gamaliel.'*  The  family  of  Ezekias  furnished  other  martyrs  to  the  ''Actsv.  y/ 
National  cause.  The  two  sons  of  Judas  died  for  it  on  the  cross  in 
46  A.D."  Yet  a  third  son,  Manahem,  who,  from  the  commeiK  ement  ■  Ant.  xx. 
of  the  war  against  Rome,  was  one  of  the  leaders  of  the  most  fanatical 
Nationalists,  the  Sicarii — the  Jacobins  of  the  party,  as  they  have 
been  aptly  designated — died  under  unspeakable  sutferings,''  while  a  f.jewisn^ 
fourth  member  of   the  family,   Eleazar,   was  the    leader  of   Israel's  gandti 


242  FROM    r'.ETlirJ-lIIEM   TO   JORDAN. 

liooK  forlorn  hope,  and  iiohly  (lie<l  at  Ma.sada,  in  the  clu.smg  drama  of  the 

If  Jewi.-^h  war    of  indc'i)cMuk'nc('/'     Of   t^ucli    stutf   were    the    Galilean 

^ . Zealots  made.      But  we  have  to  take  this  intense  Nationalist  tendency 

"Jewish  j^i^y  [y^iQ  account  in  the  history  of  Jesus,  the  more  so  that  at  least 

War, VII.  7-y  ''  ' 

one  of  His  disciples,  and  he  a  member  of  His  family,  had  at  one  time 
belonged  to  the  party.  Only  the  Kingdom  of  which  Jesus  was  the 
King  was,  as  He  Himself  said,  not  of  this  world,  and  of  far  ditl'erent 
conception  from  that  for  which  the  Nationalists  longed. 

At  the  time  when  Jesus  went  up  to  the  feast,  Quirinius  was,  as 
already  stated,  Governor  of  Syria.  The  taxing  and  the  rising  ot 
Judas  were  alike  past;  and  the  Roman  Governor,  dissatisfied  with  the 
trimming  of  Joazar,  and  distrustful  of  him,  had  appointed  in  his 
stead  Ananos,  the  sou  of  Seth,  the  Annas  of  infauKjus  memory  in  the 
New  Testament.  With  brief  interruption,  he  or  his  son  held  the 
Pontitical  office  till,  under  the  Procuratorship  of  Pilate,  Caiaphas,  the 
son-in-law  of  Annas,  succeeded  to  that  dignity.  It  has  already  been 
stated  that,  subject  to  the  Roman  Governors  of  Syria,  the  rule  of 
Palestine  devolved  on  Procurators,  of  whom  Coponius  was  the  first. 
'■9-12A.D.  Of  him  and  his  immediate  successors — Marcus  Ambivius,"  Annius 
12-15 A.D.  Rufus,'  and  Valerius  Gratus,'*  we  know  little.  They  were,  indeed, 
guilty  of  the  most  grievous  fiscal  oj^pressions,  but  they  seem  to  have 
respected,  so  far  as  was  in  them,  the  religious  feelings  of  the  Jews. 
We  know,  that  they  even  removed  the  image  of  the  Emperor  from 
the  standards  of  the  Roman  soldiers  before  marching  them  into 
Jerusalem,  so  as  to  avoid  the  appearance  of  a  ciiltus  of  the  Caesars. 
It  was  reserved  for  Pontius  Pilate  to  force  this  hated  emblem  on  the 
Jews,  and  otherwise  to  set  their  most  sacred  feelings  at  defiance.  But 
we  may  notice,  even  at  this  stage,  with  what  critical  periods  in  Jewish 
history  the  public  appearance  of  Christ  synchronised.  His  first  visit 
to  the  Temple  followed  upon  the  Roman  possession  of  Judsea,  the 
taxing,  and  the  national  rising,  as  also  the  institution  of  Annas  to 
the  High-Priesthood.  And  the  commencement  of  His  public  Min- 
istry was  contemporaneous  Avith  the  accession  of  Pilate,  and  the 
institution  of  Caiaphas.  Whether  viewed  subjectively  or  objectively, 
these  things  also  have  a  deep  bearing  upon  the  history  of  the  Christ. 

It  w^as,  as  we  reckon  it,  in  spring  a.d.  9,  that  Jesus  for  the  first 
time  went  up  to  the  Paschal  Feast  in  Jerusalem.  Coponius  would 
be  there  as  the  Procurator;  and  Annas  ruled  in  the  Temple  as  High- 
Priest,  when  He  appeared  among  its  doctors.  But  fai-  other  than 
political  thoughts  must  have  occupied  the  mind  of  Christ.  Indeed, 
for  a  time  a  brief  calm  had  fallen  ui)on  the  land.     There  was  nothing 


^  15-26  A.D. 


b  A.V. 

'  Degrees ' 
Ps.  cxx.- 
cxsxiv. 


IN    THE    TExMl'LE    AS    THE    HU['.SE    OF    HIS    FATin:R.  243 

to  provoke  active  resistance,  and  the  party  of  the  Zealots,  altliough     chap. 
existing,'  and  striking  deeper  root  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  was,  for         ^ 

the  time,  rather  what  Josephus  called  it,  '  the  philosophical  party ' —  ^-'^^ 

their  minds  busy  with  an  ideal,  which  their  hands  were  not  yet  pre- 
paring to  make  a  reality.  And  so,  when,  according  to  ancient  wont,"  i^xx^i":i9 
the  festive  company  from  Nazareth,  soon  swelled  by  other  festive  bands, 
went  up  to  Jerusalem,  chanting  by  the  way  those  '  Psalms  of  Ascent ' '' 
to  the  accompaniment  of  the  flute,  they  might  implicitly  yield  them- 
selves to  the  s])iritual  thoughts  kindled  by  such  words. 

When  the  pilgrims'  feet  stood  within  the  gates  of  Jerusalem,  there 
could  have  been  no  difficulty  in  finding  hospitality,  however  crowded 
the  City  may  have  been  on  such  occasions  ^ — the  more  so  when  we 
remember  the  extreme  simplicity  of  Eastern  manners  and  wants,  and 
the  abundance  of  provisions  which  the  many  sacrifices  of  the  season 
would  supply.  But  on  this  subject,  also,  the  Evangelic  narrative  keeps 
silence.  Glorious  as  a  view  of  Jerusalem  must  have  seemed  to  a  child 
coming  to  it  for  the  first  time  from  the  retirement  of  a  Galilean  village, 
we  must  bear  in  mind,  that  He  AVho  now  looked  upon  it  was  not  an 
ordinary  Child.  Nor  are  we,  perhaps,  mistaken  in  the  idea  that  the 
sight  of  its  frrandeur  would,  as  on  another  occasion,"  awaken  in  Him  'St.  Liike 

^  ^-  '  ,  _  '  .  xix.  -11 

not  so  much  feelings  of  admiration,  which  might  have  been  akin  to 
those  of  pride,  as  of  sadness,  though  He  may  as  yet  have  been  scarcely 
conscious  of  its  deeper  reason.  But  the  one  all-engrossing  thought 
would  be  of  the  Temple.  This,  his  first  visit  to  its  halls,  seems  also 
to  have  called  out  the  first  outspoken — and  may  we  not  infer,  the  first 
conscious — thought  of  that  Temple  as  the  House  of  His  Father,  and 
with  it  the  first  conscious  impulse  of  his  Mission  and  Being.  Here  also 
it  would  be  the  higher  meaning,  rather  than  the  structure  and  ap- 
pearance, of  the  Temple,  that  would  absorb  the  mind.  And  yet  there 
was  sufficient,  even  in  the  latter,  to  kindle  enthusiasm.  As  the  pil- 
grim ascended  the  Mount,  croste<l  by  that  symmetrically  proportioned 
building,  which  could  hold  within  its  gigantic  girdle  not  fewer  than 
210,000  persons,  his  wonder  might  well  increase  at  every  step.  The 
IVIount  itself  seemed  like  an  island,  abruptly  rising  from  out  deep 
valleys,  surrounded  by  a  sea  of  walls,  palaces,  streets,  and  houses,  and 
crowned  by  a  mass  of  snowy  marble  and  glittering  gold,  rising  terrace 
ui)on  terrace.  Altogether  it  measured  a  square  of  aI)out  1,000  feet, 
or,  to  give  a  more  exact  equivalent  of  the  measurements  furnished  by 

1  It  seems,  however,  that  tlie  Feast  of     tliaii  that  of  the  Passover  (conip.  Acts  ii. 
Pentecost  would  see  even  more  i)il,ii"i'inis      9-11). 
— at  least  from  a  distance — in  Jerusalem, 


244 


FROM    BKTIILEIIEM    TO    JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


a  Jns.  War 
vi.  a.  2 


<>  Sanh.  xi.2 


<■  St.  John 
ii.  14;  St. 
Matt.  xxi. 
12:  .Jerus. 
Chag.  p.  78 
a:  com  p. 
Neh.  xiii.  4 
&c. 


the  Rabbis,  927  feet.  At  its  north-western  aniilc,  and  connected  with 
it,  frowned  the  Castle  of  Antonia,  held  hy  the  Roman  garrison.  The 
lofty  walls  were  pierced  by  massive  gates — the  unnscd  gate  (Tedi)  on 
the  north;  the  Susa  Gate  on  the  east,  which  opened  on  the  archet! 
roadway  to  the  Mount  of  Olives;  ^  the  two  so-called  '  Huldah  '  (prob- 
ably, 'weasel')  gates,  which  led  by  tunnels^  from  the  priest-suburb 
Ophel  into  the  outer  Court;  and,  finally,  four  gates  on  the  west. 

Within  the  gates  ran  all  around  covered  double  colonnades,  with 
here  and  there  benches  for  those  who  resorted  thither  for  prayer  or 
for  conference.  The  most  magnificent  of  those  was  the  southern,  or 
twofold  double  colonnade,  Avith  a  wide  space  between;  the  most  vener- 
able, the  ancient  'Solomon's  Porch,'  or  eastern  colonnade.  Entering 
from  the  Xystus  bridge,  and  under  the  tower  of  John,''  one  would  pass 
along  the  southern  colonnade  (over  the  tunnel  of  the  Huldah-gates) 
to  its  eastern  extremity,  over  which  another  tower  rose,  probably 
'  the  pinnacle  '  of  the  history  of  the  Temptation.  From  this  height 
yawned  the  Kedron  valley  450  feet  beneath.  From  that  lofty  pin- 
nacle the  priest  each  morning  watched  and  announced  tlie  earliest 
streak  of  day.  Passing  along  the  eastern  colonnade,  or  Solomon's 
Porch,  we  would,  if  the  description  of  the  Rabbis  is  trustworthy,  have 
reached  the  Susa  Gate,  the  carved  representation  of  that  city  over  the 
gateway  reminding  us  of  the  Eastern  Dispersion.  Here  the  standard 
measures  of  the  Temple  are  said  to  have  been  kept;  and  here,  also, 
we  have  to  locate  the  first  or  lowest  of  the  three  Sanhedrins,  which, 
according  to  the  Mishnah,"  held  their  meetings  in  the  Temple;  the 
second,  or  intermediate  Court  of  Appeal,  being  in  the  'Court  of  the 
Priests'  (probably  close  to  the  Xicanor  Gate);  and  the  highest,  that 
of  the  Great  Sanhedrin,  at  one  time  in  the  '  Hall  of  Hewn  Square 
Stones  '  (LisJilrith  Tia-Gazith.) 

Passing  out  of  these  '  colonnades,'  or  '  porches,'  you  entered  the 
'Court  of  the  Gentiles,'  or  what  the  Rabbis  called  'the  Mount  of  the 
House,'  which  was  widest  on  the  west  side,  and  more  and  more  narrow 
respectively  on  the  east,  the  south,  and  the  north.  This  was  called 
the  Chol^  or  '  profane  '  place  to  which  Gentiles  had  access.  Here  must 
have  been  the  market  for  the  sale  of  sacrificial  animals,  the  tables  of 
the  money-changers,  and])laces  for  the  sale  of  other  needful  articles."* 


1  So  accordins;  to  the  Rabbis ;  Josephn.s 
does  not  mention  it.  In  iieneral.  tlie  ac- 
count here  given  is  according;  to  the  Rab- 
l)is. 

-  These  tunnels  were  divided  by  colon- 
nades respectively  into  three  and  into 
two,  tJK'  double  colonnade  beini;;  prob- 


ably used  by  the  priests,  since  its  place 
of  exit  was  close  to  the  entrance  into  the 
Court  of  the  Priests. 

''•  The  question  what  was  sold  in  this 
'  market ')  and  itsrelation  to  •  the  ])azaar' 
of  the  family  of  Annas  (the  ('iKtinnjnth 
hcnrii  Chitnnii)  will  be  discussed  in  a 
later  part. 


THE   SANCTUARY.  ■      245 

Advancing  within  this  Court,  you  reached  a  low  In-eust-wall  (the  Sorefj),      chap. 
which  marked  tlie  space  beyond  which  no  (ientih',  nor  Levitically  un-         X 

clean  person, might  i)rocced — tal)lcts,l)ca]'inginserii)tions  to  tliat  effect,    ^^ r — - 

warning  them  off.  Thirteen  openings  admitted  into  tlie  inner  ])art  of 
the  Court.  Tlience  fourteen  steps  led  uj)  to  the  Chel  or  Terrace,  which 
was  bounded  by  the  wall  of  the  Temple-buildings  in  the  stricter  sense. 
A  flight  of  steps  led  uj)  to  the  massive,  splendid  gates.  The  two  on 
the  west  side  seem  to  have  been  of  no  importance,  so  far  as  the  wor- 
shii)j)ers  were  concerned,  and  probal)ly  intended  for  the  use  of  work- 
men. North  and  south  were  four  gates.'  J3ut  the  most  s})]endid 
gate  was  that  to  the  east,  termed  'the  Beautiful.'"  "Acts  in.  2 

Entering  by  the  latter,  you  came  into  the  Court  of  the  Women,  so 
called  because  the  women  occupied  in  it  two  elevated  and  separated 
galleries,  which,  however,  filled  only  part  of  the  Court.  Fifteen  steps 
led  up  to  the  UpjxT  Court,  which  was  bounded  by  a  wall,  and  where 
was  the  celebrated  Nicanor  Gate,  covered  with  Corinthian  brass. 
Here  the  Levites,  who  conducted  the  musical  part  of  the  service, 
were  placed.  In  the  Court  of  the  A^'omen  were  the  Treasury  and  the 
thirteen  '  Trumpets, '  wlule  at  each  corner  were  chambers  or  halls, 
destined  for  various  purposes.  Similarly,  beyond  the  fifteen  steps, 
there  were  rej)Ositories  for  the  musical  instruments.  The  Upper 
Coui't  was  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  boundary — the  narrow  part 
forming  the  Court  of  Israel,  and  the  wider  that  of  the  Priests,  in 
which  were  tlie  great  Altar  and  the  Laver. 

The  Sanctuary  itself  was  on  a  higher  terrace  than  the  Court  of  the 
Priests.  Twelve  steps  led  up  to  its  Porch,  which  extended  beyond  it 
on  either  side  (north  and  south).  Here,  in  separate  chambers,  all 
that  was  necessary  for  the  sacrificial  service  was  kept.  On  two 
marble  tables  near  the  entrance  the  old  shewbread  which  was  taken 
out,  and  the  new  that  was  brought  in,  were  respectively  placed.  The 
Porch  was  adorned  l)y  votive  presents,  conspicuous  among  them  a 
massive  golden  vine.  A  two-leaved  gate  opened  into  the  Sanctuary 
itself,  which  was  divided  into  two  parts.  The  Holy  Place  had  the 
Golden  Candlestick  (south),  the  Table  of  Shewbread  (north),  and  the 
Golden  Altar  of  Incense  between  them.  A  heavy  double  veil  con- 
cealed the  entrance  to  the  Host  Holy  Place,  which  in  the  second 

'  The  question  as  to  then-  names  and  ^rave  doubts  as  to  tlieir  historical  trust- 

arrauu'ement    is    not  without   difficulty.  worthiness.     It   seems   to    me   that   the 

The   subject    is   fully   treated    in     'The  I{al)bis  always  ^ive  rather  tluMV/f^r/Mluin 

Temple  and  its   Services.'     Althou<i;]i   I  {\w  real — what,  accordinii- to  their  theoi-y, 

have  followed  in  the  text  tlie  arraiin'e-  sliould  have  been.  I'ather  than  wliat  ac- 

ments  of  the  Rabbis,  I  must  express  my  tually  was. 


246 


Ki;()M    IJKTIILEIIEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


»  So  aocord- 
iiiK  to  the 
Kabbis 
generally. 
Com  p.  Hoff'- 
mann,  Abh. 
11.  d.  pent. 
Ges.  i)p. 
6.-),  66 


''  St  Luke 
ii.  43 


'l\'iiii)lc  was  empty,  iiothing  being  there  but  tlie  ])iece  of  rock,  called 
the  Ebliea  Shethiijah,  or  Fotiiidatiou  Stone,  wliich,  according-  to  tradi- 
tion, covered  the  nioutli  of  the  pit,  ami  on  which,  it  was  thought,  the 
world  was  founded.  Nor  does  all  this  convey  an  adequate  idea  of  the 
vastness  of  the  Temple-buildings.  For  all  around  the  Sanctuary  and 
each  of  the  Courts  were  various  chambers  and  out-buildings,  which 
served  ditferent  purposes  connected  with  the  Services  of  the  Temple.^ 
In  some  part  of  this  Temple,  ^sitting  in  the  midst  of  the  Doctors,^ 
both  hearing  them  and  asking  them  questions,'  we  must  look  for  the 
Child  Jesus  on  the  third  and  the  two  following  days  of  the  Feast  on 
wliich  He  first  visited  the  Sanctuary.  Only  on  the  two  first  days  of 
the  Feast  of  Passover  was  personal  attendance  in  the  Temple  necessar}^ 
With  the  third  day  commenced  the  so-called  half-holydays,  when  it 
was  lawful  to  return  to  one's  home'' — a  provision  of  which,  no  doul)t, 
many  availed  themselves.  Indeed,  there  was  really  nothing  of  special 
interest  to  detain  the  pilgrims.  For,  the  Passover  had  been  eaten,  the 
festive  sacrifice  ('or  CJiagirjaJt)  offered,  and  the  first  ripe  barley  reaped 
and  brought  to  the  Temple,  and  waved  as  the  Omer  of  first  fiour  before 
the  Lord.  Hence,  in  view  of  the  w^ell-known  Rabbinic  provision,  the 
expression  in  the  Gospel-narrative  concerning  the  '  Parents '  of  Jesus, 
'when  they  had  fulfilled  the  days,'"  cannot  necessarily  imply  that 
Joseph  and  the  Mother  of  Jesus  had  remained  in  Jerusalem  during 
the  whole  Paschal  week.^  On  the  other  hand,  the  circumstances 
connected  with  the  presence  of  Jesus  in  the  Temple  render  this  sup- 
position impossible.  For,  Jesus  could  not  have  been  found  among  the 
Doctors  after  the  close  of  the  Feast.  The  first  question  here  is  as  to 
the  locality  in  the  Temple,  where  the  scene  has  to  be  laid.  It  has, 
indeed,  been  commonly  supposed  that  there  was  a  Synagogue  in  the 
Temple;  but  of  this  there  is,  to  say  the  least,  no  historical  evidence.* 
But  even  if  such  had  existed,  the  worship  and  addresses  of  the  Syna- 
gogue would  not  have  offered  any  opportunity  for  the  questioning  on 
the  part  of  Jesus  which  the  narrative  implies.  Still  more  groundless 
is  the  idea  that  there  was  in  the  Temple  sometliing  like  a  Beth  ha- 


'  For  a  full  description,  I  must  refer  to 
'The  Temple,  its  Ministry  and  Services  at 
the  time  of  Jesus  Christ.'  Some  repeti- 
tiou  of  what  iiad  been  alluded  to  in  pre- 
vious chapters  has  been  unavoidal)le  in 
the  present  description  of  tlie  Temi)Ie. 

2  Although  comparatively  few  really 
great  authorities  in  Jewish  Canon  Law 
lived  at  that  time,  more  than  a  dozj^n 
names  could  be  given  of  Rabbis  cele- 
brated in   Jewish  Utarature,   who   must 


have  been  His  contemporaries  at  one  or 
another  period  of  His  life. 

^  In  fact,  an  attentive  consideration  of 
what  in  the  tractate  Moed  K.  (comp.  also 
Chag.  17  h\  is  declared  to  be  lawful  oc- 
cupation during  the  half-holydays,  leads 
us  to  infer  that  a  very  large  i)roportion 
must  have  returned  to  their  homes. 

^  For  a  full  discussion  of  this  impor- 
tant question,  see  Appendix  X. :  '  The 
Supposed  Temple-Synagogue. ' 


AMONG   THE   DOCTORS. 


247 


Midrash,  or  theological  Academy,  not  to  speak  of  tlie  circum,stance 
that  a  child  of  twelve  would  not,  at  any  time,  have  i)eeii  allowed  to 
take  part  in  its  discussions.  But  there  were  occasions  on  Avhicli  the 
Temple  becanu'  virtually,  thoujih  not  lormally,  a  Beth  ha-3IiclrasJi.  For 
we  read  in  the  Talmud,''  that  the  mem1)crs  of  the  Temple-Sanhedrin, 
who  on  ordinary  days  sat  as  a  Court  of  Appeal,  from  tlie  close  of  the 
Morning- to  the  time  of  the  Evening-Sacrifice,  were  wont  on  Sabbaths 
•dwd  feast-days  to  come  out  upon  'the  Terrace '  of  the  Temple,  and 
there  to  teach.  In  such  poi)ular  instruction  the  utmost  latitude  of 
questioning  would  be  given.  It  is  in  this  audience,  which  sat  on 
the  ground,  surrounding  and  mingling  with  the  Doctors — and  hence 
during,  not  after  the  Feast — that  wc  must  seek  the  Child  Jesus. 

But  we  have  yet  to  show  that  tlie  presence  and  questioning  of  a 
Child  of  that  age  did  not  necessarily  imi)]y  anything  so  extraordinary, 
as  to  convey  the  idea  of  supernaturalness  to  those  Doctors  or  others 
in  the  audience.  Jewish  tradition  gives  other  instances  of  pre- 
cocious and  sti-angely  advanced  students.  Besides,  scientific  theo- 
logical learning  would  not  be  necessary  to  take  part  in  such  po^ndar 
discussions.  If  we  may  judge  from  later  arrangements,  not  only 
in  Babylon,  l)ut  in  Palestine,  there  were  two  kinds  of  public  lectures, 
and  two  kinds  of  students.  The  first,  or  more  scientific  class, 
was  designated  Kallah  (literally,  bride),  and  its  attendants  Beney- 
Kallah  (children  of  the  bride).  These  lectures  were  delivered  in 
the  last  month  of  summer  (Flul),  before  the  Feast  of  the  New 
Year,  and  in  the  last  winter  month  (Adar),  immediately  before  the 
Feast  of  Passover.  They  implied  consideral)le  prei)aration  on  the 
part  of  the  lecturing  Rabbis,  and  at  least  some  Talmudic  knowledge 
on  the  pai't  of  the  attendants.  On  the  other  hand,  there  were 
Students  of  the  Court  (Chatsatsta,  and  in  Babylon  Tarbitsa),  who 
during  ordinary  lectures  sat  sej^arated  from  the  regular  students 
by  a  kind  of  hedge,  outside,  as  it  were  in  the  Court,  some  of.  wlu^m 
seem  to  have  been  ignorant  even  of  the  Bible.  The  lectures 
addressed  to  such  a  general  audience  would,  of  course,  be  of  a  very 
different  character.'' 

But  if  there  was  nothing  so  unprecedented  as  to  render  His 
Presence  and  questioning  marvellous,  yet  all  who  heard  Him  '  were 
amazed '  at  His  '  combinative  insight ' '  and   '  discerning  answers. '  ^ 


*  Comp.  Jer. 
Ber.  iv.  p.  7 
(/.and  other 
passages 


^  The  expression  m'^'frr/^meansorio;!- 
nally  cnnctirfitts,  and  (as  HcJdeusner 
ri<i"htly  i»nt.s  it)  intelligetitia  in  the  sense 
of  i)ers])ifat'ia  qua  res  probe  coicnita'  suD- 
tiliter  ae   Oiliffenter   a   se   invlceni    dis- 


cernnntur.     The  LXX.  render  by  it  no 
less  than  eiylit  dltlerent  Hebrew  terms. 

-  Tlie  primary  meanini;-  of  the  verb, 
from  which  the  word  is  derived,  is  secer- 
no,  disferno. 


248 


FRO^r    liKTHLEllEM    TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
II 


■'  Jcr.  Pes. 
vi.  1;  Pes. 
66  a 


b  St.  Matt. 
XXil.  42-45 


I'  Jos.  Ant. 
sv.  8.  5 

■'  Maas.  Sh. 
V.  2 


We  scarcely  venture  to  in(|uire  towards  what  His  questioning  had 
])een  directed.  Judging  by  what  we  know  of  such  discussions,  Ave 
infer  that  they  may  have  been  connected  with  the  Paschal  solemni- 
ties. Grave  Paschal  questions  did  arise.  Indeed,  the  great  Hillel 
obtained  his  rank  as  chief  when  he  proved  to  the  assembled  Doctors 
that  the  Passover  might  be  offered  even  on  the  Sabbath."  Many 
other  questions  might  arise  on  the  subject  of  the  Passover.  Or  did 
the  Child  Jesus — as  afterwards,  in  connection  with  the  Messianic  teach- 
ing " — lead  up  by  His  questions  to  the  deeper  meaning  of  the  Paschal 
solemnities,  as  it  was  to  be  unfolded,  when  Himself  w^as  offered  up, 
'  the  Lamb  of  God,  Which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world '  ? 

Other  questions  also  almost  force  themselves  on  the  mind — most 
notably  this:  whether  on  the  occasion  of  this  His  tirst  visit  to  the 
Temple,  the  Yirgin-Mother  had  told  her  Son  the  history  of  His 
Infancy,  and  of  what  had  happened  when,  for  the  first  time.  He  had 
been  brought  to  the  Temple.  It  would  almost  seem  so,  if  we  might 
judge  from  the  contrast  between  the  Virgiji-Mother's  complaint 
about  the  search  of  His  father  and  of  her,  and  His  own  emphatic 
appeal  to  the  business  of  His  Father.  But  most  surprising — truly 
wonderful  it  must  have  seemed  to  Joseph,  and  even  to  the  Mother  of 
Jesus,  that  the  meek,  quiet  Child  should  have  been  found  in  such 
company,  and  so  engaged.  It  must  have  been  quite  other  than  what, 
from  His  past,  they  would  have  expected;  or  they  would  not  have 
taken  it  for  granted,  when  they  left  Jerusalem,  that  He  was  among 
their  kinsfolk  and  acquaintance,  perhaps  mingling  with  the  children. 
Nor  yet  would  they,  in  such  case,  after  they  missed  Him  at  the  first 
night's  halt — at  Sicliem,'^  if  the  direct  road  north,  through  Samaria,^ 
was  taken  (or,  according  to  the  Mishnah,  at  Akrabah") — have  so 
anxiously  sought  Him  by  the  way,^  and  in  Jerusalem;  nor  yet  Avould 
they  have  been  '  amazed '  when  they  found  Him  in  the  assembly  of 
the  Doctors.  The  reply  of  Jesus  to  the  half-reproachful,  half-relieved 
expostulation  of  them  who  had  sought  Him  '  sorrowing '  these  three 
days,^  sets  clearly  these  three  things  before  us.  He  had  been  so 
entirely  absorbed  by  the  awakening  thought  of  His  Being  and 
Mission,  however  kindled,  as  to  be  not  only  neglectful,  but  forgetful 
of  all  around.  Xay,  it  even  seemed  to  Him  impossible  to  under- 
stand how  they  could  have  sought  Him,  and  not  known  where  He 


'  According  to  Jer.  Ab.  Z.  44  J,  the 
soil,  the  fountains,  the  houses,  and  the 
roads  of  Samaria  were  '  clean.' 

■^  This  is  implied  in  the  use  of  the 
present  participle. 


•■'  The  first  day  would  be  that  of  miss- 
ing  Him.  the  second  that  of  the  return, 
and  the  third  that  of  the  search  in  Jeru- 
salem. 


THE    AWAKKXIXG    OF    THE    {"Ilin.^T-COXSClOUSXKSS. 


249 


had   lingered.      Scvohdlij:    MC   may   venture    to  ^a}-,    tliat   lie   now     niAl'. 
i-ealised    that  this  was    emphatically  His   Father's    House.      And,  X 

thirdly:  so  far  as  wc  can  judge,  it  was  then  and  there  that,  for  the   ~ r — - 

tirst  time,  He  felt  the  strong  and  irresistible  impulse — that  Divine 
necessity  of  His  Being — to  be  '  about  His  Father's  business. '  ^  We 
all,  when  first  awakening  to  si)iritual  consciousness — or,  perhaps, 
when  for  the  first  time  taking  part  in  the  feast  of  the  Lord's  House 
— may,  and,  learning  from  His  example,  should,  make  this  the  hour 
<jf  decision,  in  which  heart  and  life  shall  be  wholly  consecrated  to 
the  '  business '  of  our  Father.  But  there  was  far  more  than  this  in 
the  bearing  of  Christ  on  this  occasion.  That  forgetfulness  of  .His 
Child-life  was  a  sacrifice — a  sacrifice  of  self;  that  entire  absorjjtion 
in  His  Father's  business,  without  a  thought  of  self,  either  in  the 
gratification  of  curiosity,  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  or  personal 
ambition — a  consecration  of  Himself  unto  God.  It  was  the  first 
manifestation  of  His  passive  and  active  obedience  to  the  Will  of 
God.  Even  at  this  stage,  it  was  the  forth-bursting  of  the  inmost 
meaning  of  His  Life:  'My  meat  is  to  do  the  Will  of  Him  that  sent 
Me,  and  to  finish  His  work.'  And  yet  this  awakening  of  the  Christ- 
consciousness  on  His  first  visit  to  the  Temple,  partial,  and  perhaps 
even  temporary,  as  it  may  have  been,  seems  itself  like  the  morning- 
dawn,  which  from  the  pinnacle  of  the  Tem]ile  the  Priest  watched, 
ere  he  summoned  his  waiting  brethren  beneath  to  ofler  the  early 
sacrifice. 

From  what  we  have  already  learned  of  this  History,  we  do  not 
wonder  that  the  answer  of  Jesus  came  to  His  parents  as  a  fresh 
surprise.  For,  we  can  only  understand  what  we  perceive  in  its 
totality.  But  here  each  fresh  manifestation  came  as  something 
separate  and  new — not  as  part  of  a  whole;  and  therefore  as  a  sur- 
prise, of  wdiich  the  i)urport  and  meaning  could  not  be  understood, 
except  in  its  organic  connection  and  as  a  whole.  And  for  the  true 
human  development  of  the  God-]\Lan,  what  was  the  natural  was  also 
the  needful  process,  even  as  it  was  best  for  the  learning  of  Mary 
herself,  and  for  the  future  reception  of  His  teaching.     These  three 

'  The  expression  sv  roT?  rov  Ttarpo?  (2)  It  seems  unaccountable  how  the  word 

//Of  may  be  equally  rendered,  or  rather  'house'  could  have  been  left  out  iu  the 

supplemented,  by  '  in  My  Father's  house. '  Greek  renderinir  of  the  Aramjean  words  of 

and  '  about  My  Father's  business.'     The  Christ — but  quite  natural,  if  the  word  to 

former  is  adopted  by  most  modern  com-  be  supplemented  was  'things'  or  -busi- 

mentators.     But  (1)  it  does  not  accord  ness.'     (3)  A  reference  to  the  Temple  as 

with  the  word  that  must  be  supplemented  His  Father's  hniise  C(tnld  not  have  seemed 

in  the  two  analoicous   passages  in    tlio  so  stran,e;e  on  tlie  lii)s  of  Jesus — nor,  in- 

LXX. .  Neither  in   Esth.   vii.   9,   nor  in  deed,    of   any   .Tewi.-<li    child— as   to   till 

Ecclus.  xlii.  10,  is  it  strictly  '  the  /lOK.^e.'  Jusepli  and  Mary  with  astonishment. 


•2;A) 


VIIOM    ]5I:TIILEHKM   to   JOliDAX. 


BOOK      sul).<i(liai'y  reasons  may  once  more  l)c  indicated  liei'e  in  e.\i)laiiati(ju  of 
n  the  Yirsiin-Mother's  seemiug  iguorauce  of  her  kSoii"s  true  character: 

- — -: — '  the  necessary  gradualness  of  such  a  revelation;  the  necessary  de- 
velopment of  His  own  consciousness;  and  the  fact,  that  Jesus  could 
not  have  been  subject  to  His  Parents,  nor  had  true  and  proper  human 
training,  if  they  had  clearly  known  that  He  was  the  essential  Son  of  God. 
A  further,  though  to  us  it  seems  a  downward  step,  was  His  quiet, 
immediate,  unquestioning  return  to  Nazareth  with  His  Parents,  and 
His  willing  submission^  to  them  while  there.  It  was  self-denial, 
self-sacrifice,  self-consecration  to  His  Mission,  with  all  that  it  im- 
plied. It  was  not  self-exinanition  but  self-submission,  all  the  more 
glorious  in  proportion  to  the  greatness  of  that  Self.  This  constant 
contrast  before  her  eyes  only  deepened  in  the  heart  of  Mary  the  ever- 
present  impression  of  '  all  those  matters,'^  of  which  she  was  the  most 
cognisant.  She  was  learning  to  spell  out  the  word  Messiah,  as  each 
of  '  those  matters '  taught  her  one  fresh  letter  in  it,  and  she  looked  at 
them  all  in  the  light  of  the  Nazareth-Sun, 

With  His  return  to  Nazareth  began  Jesus'  Life  of  youth  and 
early  manhood,  witli  all  of  inward  and  outward  development,   of 

jt.  Luke  heavenly  and  earthly  approbation  which  it  carried.''  Whether  or 
not  He  went  to  Jerusalem  on  recurring  Feasts,  we  know  not,  and 
need  not  inquire.  For  only  once  during  that  period — on  His  first 
visit  to  the  Temple,  and  in  the  awakening  of  His  Youth-Life — 
could  there  have  been  such  outward  forth-bursting  of  His  real 
Being  and  Mission.  Other  influences  were  at  their  silent  work  to 
weld  His  inward  and  outward  development,  and  to  determine  the 
manner  of  His  later  Manifesting  of  Himself.  We  assume  that 
the  School-education  of  Jesus  must  have  ceased  soon  after  His 
return  to  Nazareth.  Henceforth  the  Nazareth-influences  on  the  Life 
and  Thinking  of  Jesus  may  be  grouped — and  progressively  as  He 
advanced  from  youth  to  manhood — under  these  particulars:  Home, 
Nature,  and  Prevailing  Ideas. 

1.  Home.  Jewish  Home-Life,  especially  in  the  country,  was  of 
the  simplest.  Even  in  luxurious  Alexandria  it  seems  often  to  have 
been  such,  alike  as  regarded  the  furnishing  of  the  house,  and  the 
provisions  of  the  table.'  The  morning  and  midday  meal  must  have 
been  of  the   plainest,  and  even  the  larger  evening  meal   of  the 


The  voluntariness  of  His  submission      equivalent  to  the  Hebrew  C*".^m~""3= 
nplied  by  the  present  part.  mid.  oj 
vei'b. 
-  Tlie  Authorised  Version  renders  •  sav- 


ihp'"Sl?'^  ^'''  ^^^  ^''''^''*  ^^'^'  '"''^'  "^^     ^"   ^''^■^^   ^'""-•'-      ^t-   Luke  uses    the 


word  ~Z~  in  that  sense  in  i.  65:  ii.  15, 

. „,n  ^T*i,-   1  +v  •      •     1      1        19,51;  Acts  V.  .32:  x.  37;  xiii.  42.* 

ings.  But  I  thmk  the  expression  ,s  clearly         3  Comp.Philo  in  Flacc.ed.  Fcf.  p.977  &c 


THE    'I'.UETIIUEN'    OK    THE    EORI). 


251 


.simplost,  ill  tho  lioiiio  at  Nazareth.  Only  tho  Sabbath  and  festivals, 
whether  domestic  or  public,  brought  what  of  the  best  lay  within 
reach.  But  Nazareth  w^as  not  the  city  of  the  wealthy  or  influential, 
and  such  festive  evening-entertainments,  with  elaborate  ceremonious- 
ness  of  reception,  arranging  of  guests  according  to  rank,  and  rich 
si)read  of  board,  would  l)ut  rarely,  if  ever,  be  witnessed  in  those 
quiet  homes.  The  same  simplicity  would  prevail  in  dress  and 
numners.^  But  close  and  loving  were  the  l)on(ls  which  drew 
together  tho  members  of  a  family,  and  deep  the;  iutiuence  which 
they  exercised  on  each  other.  We  cannot  here  discuss  the  vexed 
question  whether  '  the  brothers  and  sisters  '  of  Jesus  were  such  in 
the  real  sense,  or  step-brothers  and  sisters,  or  else  cousins,  though 
it  seems  to  us  as  if  the  primary  meaning  of  the  terms  would  scarcely 
have  l)ecn  called  in  question,  but  for  a  theory  of  false  asceticism,  and 
an  undervaluing  of  the  sanctity  of  the  married  estate.''  But,  what- 
ever the  precise  relationship  between  Jesus  and  these  '  brothers  and 
sisters, '  it  must,  on  any  theory,  have  been  of  the  closest,  and  exercised 
its  influence  upon  Him.^ 

Passing  over  Joses  or  Joseph,  of  whoso  history  we  know  next  to 
nothing,  we  have  suflicient  materials  to  ena])le  us  to  form  some  judg- 
ment of  what  must  have  l^oon  tho  tendencies  and  thoughts  of  two  of 
His  brothers  James  and  Jude^  before  they  were  heart  and  soul  followers 
of  the  Messiah,  and  of  His  cousin  Simon.'^  If  we  might  venture  on  a 
general  characterisation,  avo  would  infer  from  the  Epistle  of  St.  James, 
that  his  religious  views  had  originally  been  cast  in  the  mould  of  Sham- 
med. Certainly,  there  is  nothing  of  tho  Hillelite  direction  about  it,  but 
all  to  remind  us  of  the  earnestness,  directness,  vigour,  and  rigour  of 
Shammai.  Of  Simon  we  know  that  he  had  belonged  to  the  National- 
ist party,  since  he  is  expressly  so  designated  {Zelotes,^'  Canana'an)." 
Lastly,  there  are  in  tho  Epistle  of  St.  Judo,  one  undoubted,  and 
another  ])robable  reference  to  two  of  those  (Pseudepigraphic)  Apoca- 
lyptic l)o()ks,  which  at  that  time  marked  one  deeply  interesting  phase 
of  the  Messianic  outlook  of  Israel.''  We  have  thus  within  the  narrow 
circle  of  Christ's  Family-Life — not  to  speak  of  anj'  intercourse  witli  tho 
sons  of  Zebedee,  who  probably  were  also  His  cousins* — the  three  most 


"  Comp. 
St.  Matt.  1. 
24:;  St.  Luke 
il.  7 :  St. 
Matt.  xil. 
46;  xiii.  5"). 
56;  St.  Mark 
m.  31;  vi. 
3;  Acts  i. 
U;  1  Cor. 
ix.  5;  Gal.i. 
19 


1  For  details  as  to  dres.s,  food,  and 
manners  in  Palestine,  I  must  refer  to 
other  ])arts  of  this  book. 

"  The  question  of  the  real  relationship 
of  Glirist  to  His  '  brothers  '  has  been  so 
often  discussed  in  the  various  Cycloiia?- 
dias  that  it  seems  unnecessary  iiere  to 
enter  ui)on  the  matter  in  detail.  See 
also  Br.  Liijliffoofs  Dissertation  in  his 
Comment,  ou  Galat.  pp.  282-2U1. 


-'  I  regard  this  Simon  (Zelotes)  as  the 
son  of  Clopas  (brother  of  Joseph,  the 
Virgin's  husband)  and  of  Mary.  For 
the  reasons  of  this  view,  see  Book  ni. 
ch.  xvii.  and  Book  V.  ch.  xv. 

*  On  the  maternal  side.  'We  read  St. 
John  xix.  25  as  indicating  fonr  women — 
His  Mother's  sister  being  Salome,  accord- 
ing to  St.  Mark  xv.  40. 


>>  St.  Luke 
vl.  15; 
Acts  1.  13 

'  St.  Mark 
lii.  18 


■I  St.  Judf- 
XV.  14,  1.")  to 
the  V)0(ik  <it 
Enoch,  anil 
V.  SI  prob- 
alily  to  the 
Assum. 
of  Moses 


25-_> 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


I'.OOK 
II 


»  Comp. 
St.  Matt. 

Xlii.  fi.); 

St.  John  Tl. 
i-2 


hopeful  and  pur(3  Jcwisli  tendencies,  Ijrouicht  into  constant  contact 
with  Jesus:  in  Pharisaism,  the  teaching  of  Slianiniai;  tlien,  the 
Nationalist  ideal;  and.  finally,  the  hoi)e  of  a  glorious  Messianic  future. 
To  these  there  should  prol)a])ly  l)e  added,  at  least  knowledge  of  the 
lonely  preparation  of  His  kinsman  John,  who,  though  certainly  not  an 
Essene,  had,  from  the  necessity  of  his-  calling,  much  in  his  outward 
bearing  that  was  akin  to  them. 

But  we  are  anticipating.  From  what  are,  necessarily,  only  sugges- 
tions, we  turn  again  to  what  is  certain  in  connection  witli  His  Family- 
Life  and  its  influences.  From  St.  IVIark  vi.  3,  we  may  infer  with  great 
prolnibility,  though  not  with  absolute  certainty,''  that  He  had  adopted 
the  ti-ade  of  Joseph.  Among  the  Jews  the  contempt  for  manual 
labour,  which  was  one  of  the  painfu'  characteristics  of  heathenism, 
did  not  exist.  On  the  contrary,  it  was  deemed  a  religious  duty, 
frequently  and  most  earnestly  insisted  upon,  to  learn  some  trade, 
provided  it  did  not  minister  to  luxury,  nor  tend  to  lead  away  fi'om 
I' Comp.  personal  ol)servance  of  the  Law.''  There  was  not  such  separation 
Kidd.  29"6i  between  rich  and  poor  as  with  us,  and  while  Avealth  might  confer 
social  distinction,  the  absence  of  it  in  no  way  implied  social  inferiority. 
Nor  could  it  be  otherwise  where  wants  were  so  few,  life  was  so  simple, 
and  its  highest  aim  so  ever  present  to  tlie  mind. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  the  religious  intiuences  in  the  family, 
so  blessedly  difierent  from  that  neglect,  exposure,  and  even  murder  of 
children  among  the  heathen,  or  their  education  by  slaves,  who  cor- 
rupted the  mind  from  its  earliest  opening.^  The  love  of  parents  to 
children,  appearing  even  in  the  curse  which  was  felt  to  attach  to 
childlessness;  the  reverence  towards  parents,  as  a  duty  higher  than 
any  of  outward  observance;  and  the  love  of  brethren,  which  Jesus  had 
learned  in  His  home,  form,  so  to  speak,  the  natural  basis  of  many  of 
the  teachings  of  Jesus.  They  give  us  also  an  insight  into  the  family- 
life  of  Nazareth.  And  yet  there  is  nothing  sombre  nor  morose  about  it ; 
and  even  the  joyous  games  of  children,  as  well  as  festive  gatherings 
of  families,  find  their  record  in  the  Avords  and  the  life  of  Christ.  This 
also  is  characteristic  of  His  past.  And  so  are  His  deep  sympathy 
with  all  sorrow  and  suffering,  and  His  love  for  the  family  circle,  as 
evidenced  in  the  home  of  Lazarus.     That  He  spoke  Hebrew,  and  used 


1  See  the  chapter  on  'Trades  and 
Tradesmen,'  in  the  'Sketches  of  Jewish 
Social  Life.' 

2  Comp.  this  subject  in  Bollinger.  'Hei- 
denthuin  u.  Jndenthum.'  in  regard  to  tlie 

•  Greeks,  p.  692  ;  in  regard  to  the  Romans. 
pp.  716-722;  in  regard  to  education  and 


its  abominations,  pp.  72.3-726.  Nothing 
can  cast  a  more  lurid  light  on  the  need 
for  Christianity,  if  the  world  was  not  to 
perish  of  uttter  rottenness,  than  a  study 
of  ancient  Hellas  and  Rome,  as  presented 
])V  Dullir.ger  in  his  admirable  work. 


CHRIST'S   SYMPATHY   WITH   NATURE   AND   MAN.  253 

and  quoted  tlic  Scriptures  in  the  original,  has  already  been  shown, 
although,  no  doubt,  He  understood  Greek,  possibly  also  Latin. 

Secondhj:  Nature  and  Every-duy  Life.  The  most  superlicia 
perusal  ol'tlie  teaching  of  Christ  must  convince  how  deeply  sympathetic 
He  was  with  nature,  and  how  keenly  observant  of  man.  Here  there 
is  no  contrast  between  love  of  the  country  and  the  hal)its  of  city  life; 
the  two  are  found  side  by  side.  On  His  lonely  walks  He  must  have 
had  an  eye  for  the  beauty  of  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  thought  of  it, 
how  the  birds  of  the  air  received  their  food  from  an  Unseen  Hand, 
and  with  what  maternal  atfection  the  hen  gathered  her  chickens 
under  her  wing.  He  had  watched  the  sower  or  the  vinedresser  as  he 
went  forth  to  his  labour,  and  read  the  teaching  of  the  tares  which 
sprang  up  among  the  wheat.  To  Him  the  vocation  of  the  shepherd 
must  have  been  full  of  meaning,  as  he  led,  and  fed,  and  watched  his 
flock,  spoke  to  his  sheep  with  well-known  voice,  brought  them  to  the 
fold,  or  followed,  and  tenderly  carried  back,  those  that  had  strayed, 
ever  ready  to  defend  them,  even  at  the  cost  of  his  own  life.  Nay,  He 
even  seems  to  have  watched  the  hal)its  of  the  fox  in  its  secret  lair. 
But  he  also  equally  knew  the  joys,  the  sorrows,  the  wants  and 
sufferings  of  the  busy  multitude.  The  play  in  the  market,  the 
marriage  processions,  the  funeral  rites,  the  wrongs  of  injustice  and 
oppression,  the  urgent  harshness  of  the  creditor,  the  bonds  and 
prison  of  the  debtor,  the  palaces  and  luxury  of  princes  and  courtiers, 
the  self-indulgence  of  the  rich,  the  avarice  of  the  covetous,  the 
exactions  of  the  tax-gatherer,  and  the  oppression  of  the  widow  by 
unjust  judges,  had  all  made  an  indelible  impression  on  His  mind. 
And  yet  this  evil  world  was  not  one  which  He  hated,  and  from  which 
He  would  withdraw  Himself  with  His  disciples,  though  ever  and 
again  He  felt  the  need  of  periods  of  meditation  and  prayer.  On  the 
contrary,  while  He  confronted  all  the  evil  in  it.  He  would  fain  pervade 
the  mass  with  the  new  leaven;  not  cast  it  away,  but  renew  it.  He 
recognised  the  good  and  the  hopeful,  even  in  those  who  seemed  most 
lost.  He  quenched  not  the  dimly  burning  flax,  nor  brake  the 
bruised  reed.  It  was  not  contempt  of  the  world,  but  sadness  over 
it;  not  condemnation  of  man,  but  drawing  him  to  His  Heavenly 
Father;  not  despising  of  the  little  and  the  poor,  whether  outwardly  or 
inwardly  such,  but  encouragement  and  adoption  of  them — together 
with  keen  insight  into  the  real  under  the  mask  of  the  apparent,  and 
withering  denunciation  and  unsparing  exposure  of  all  that  was  evil, 
mean,  and  unreal,  wherever  it  might  appear.  Such  were  some  of  the 
results  gathered  from  His  past  life,  as  presented  in  His  teaching. 

Thirdly:  Of  the  prevailing   ideas  around,  with  which  He  was 


254 


FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK      brought  in  contact,  some  liave  already  l)ecn  mentioned.     Surely,  the 
n         earnestness  of  His  Shammaite  brother,  if  such  we  may  venture  to 

— -^r^^  designate  him ;  the  idea  of  the  Kingdom  suggested  by  the  Nationalists, 
only  in  its  purest  and  most  spiritual  form,  as  not  of  this  world, 
and  as  truly  realising  the  sovereignty  of  God  in  the  individual,  who- 
ever he  might  be;  even  the  dreamy  thoughts  of  the  prophetic  litera- 
ture of  those  times,  which  sought  to  reatl  the  mysteries  of  the  coming 
Kingdom;  as  well  as  the  i)rophet-like  asceticism  of  His  forerunner 
and  kinsman,  formed  at  least  so  many  points  of  contact  for  His 
teaching.  Thus,  Christ  was  in  sympathy  Avith  all  the  highest  ten- 
dencies of  His  people  and  time.  Above  all,  there  was  His  intimate 
converse  with  the  Scriptures  of  the  Old  Testament.  If,  in  the  Syna- 
gogue, He  saw  much  to  show  the  hollowness,  self-seeking,  pride,  and 
literalism  which  a  mere  external  observance  of  the  Law  fostered,  He 
would  ever  turn  from  wdiat  man  or  devils  said  to  what  He  read, 
to  what  was  'written.'  Not  one  dot  or  hook  of  it  could  fall  to  the 
ground — all  must  be  established  and  fultilled.  The  Law  of  Moses  in 
all  its  bearings,  the  utterances  of  the  prophets — Isaiah,  Jeremiah, 
Ezekiel,  Daniel,  Hosea,  Micah,  Zechariah,  Malachi — and  the  hopes 
and  consolations  of  the  Psalms,  were  all  to  Him  literally  true,  and  cast 
their  light  upon  the  building  which  Moses  had  reared.  It  was  all  one, 
a  grand  unity;  not  an  aggregation  of  ditferent  parts,  but  the  unfolding 
of  a  livin*';  organism.  Chicfest  of  all,  it  was  the  thought  of  the 
Messianic  bearing  of  all  Scripture  to  its  unity,  the  idea  of  the  King- 
dom of  God  and  the  King  of  Zion,  which  was  the  life  and  light  of  all. 
Beyond  this,  into  the  mystery  of  His  inner  converse  with  God, 
the  unfolding  of  His  spiritual  receptiveness,  and  the  increasing 
communication  from  above,  we  dare  not  enter.  Even  what  His  bodily 
appearance  nmy  have  been,  w^e  scarcely  venture  to  imagine.'  It  could 
not  but  be  that  His  outer  man  in  some  measure  bodied  forth  His 
'  Inner  Being.'  Yet  Ave  dread  gathering  around  our  thoughts  of  Him 
the  artificial  tlowers  of  legend."  What  His  manner  and  mode  of  re- 
ceiving and  dealing  with  men  were,  we  can  portray  to  ourseh^es  from  His 
life.  And  so  it  is  best  to  remain  content  with  the  simple  account  of  the 
Evangelic  narrative:   *  Jesus  increased  in  favour  Avith  God  and  Man.' 

1  Even  the  poetic  conception  of  tiie  Gieseler.  Kircliengescli.  i.  ]ip.  85,  80. 
painter  can  only  furnish  his  own  ideal,  '•*  Of  these  there  are,  alas!  only  too 
ami  that  of  one  special  mood.  Speakin<i;  many.  The  reader  interested  in  the 
as  one  who  has  no  claim  to  knowledfre  of  matter  will  find  a  ijood  summary  in  Ki'im, 
art,  only  one  picture  of  Christ  ever  really  i.  2,  pp.  4(50^08.  One  of  the  few  note- 
impressed  me.  It  was  that  of  an  '  Ecce  worthy  remarks  recorded  is  this  descrip- 
Homc,'  by  Carlo  Dolci.  in  the  Pitti  Gal-  tion  of  Christ,  in  the  spurious  Epistle 
lery  at  Florence.  For  an  account  of  of  Lentxliis.  '  AVho  was  never  seen  to 
the  early  pictorial  representations,  comp.  lan;j;h,  but  often  to  weep.' 


ELIJAH   AND   THE   BAPTIST.  255 


CHAPTER  XI. 

IN  THE  FIFTEENTH  YEAR  OF  TIBERIUS  CESAR  AND  UNDER  THE  PONTIFI- 
CATE OF  ANNAS  AND  CAIAPHAS — A  VOICE  IN  THE  WILDERNESS. 

(St.  Matthew  iii.  1-12;  St.  Mark  i.  2-8;  St.  Luke  iii.  1-18.) 

There  is  something  grand,  even  awful,  in  tlie  almost  absolute  silence  CHAP, 
which  lies  upon  the  thirty  years  between  the  Birth  and  the  first  ^I 
Messianic  Manifestation  of  Jesus.  In  a  narrative  like  that  of  the  '-^^f-^ 
Gospels,  this  must  have  been  designed;  and,  if  so,  aflbrds  presump- 
tive evidence  of  the  authenticity  of  what  follows,  and  is  intended  to 
teach,  that  what  had  preceded  concerned  only  the  inner  History  of 
Jesus,  and  the  preparation  of  the  Christ.  At  last  that  solemn  silence 
was  broken  by  an  appearance,  a  proclamation,  a  rite,  and  a  ministry 
as  startling  as  that  of  Elijah  had  been.  In  many  respects,  indeed, 
the  two  messengers  and  their  times  bore  singular  likeness.  It  was 
to  a  society  secure,  prosperous,  and  luxurious,  yet  in  imminent  danger 
of  perishing  from  hidden,  festering  disease;  and  to  a  religious  com- 
munity which  presented  the  appearance  of  hopeless  perversion,  and  yet 
contained  the  germs  of  a  possible  regeneration,  that  both  Elijah  and 
John  the  Baptist  came.  Both  suddenly  appeared  to  threaten  terrible 
judgment,  but  also  to  open  unthought-of  possibilities  of  good.  And, 
as  if  to  deepen  still  more  the  impression  of  this  contrast,  both  ap- 
peared in  a  manner  unexpected,  and  even  antithetic  to  the  hal)its  of 
their  contemporaries.  John  came  suddenly  out  of  the  wilderness  of 
Judaea,  as  Elijah  from  the  wilds  of  Gilead;  John  bore  the  same  strange 
ascetic  appearance  as  his  predecessor;  the  message  of  John  was  the 
counterpart  of  that  of  Elijah;  his  baptism  that  of  Elijah's  novel  rite 
on  Mount  Carmel.  And,  as  if  to  make  complete  the  parallelism,  with 
all  of  memory  and  hope  which  it  awakened,  even  tlie  more  minute 
details  surrounding  the  life  of  Elijah  found  their  counterpart  in  that 
of  John.  Yet  history  never  repeats  itself.  It  fulfils  in  its  develop- 
ment that  of  which  it  gave  indication  at  its  commencement.     Thus, 


25(3  FUOM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK  the  liistory  of  John  the  Bai)tist  was  the  lulllhnent  of  that  of  f]lijah 
n  in  'the  fuhiess  of  time.' 
>- — y- — '  For,  alike  in  the  Roman  worhl  and  in  I'alestine,  tlie  time  had 
fully  come;  not,  indeed,  in  the  sense  of  any  special  expectancy,  but 
of  absolute  need.  The  reign  of  Augustus  marked,  not  only  the 
climax,  but  the  crisis,  of  Roman  history.  Whatever  of  good  or  of 
evil  the  ancient  world  contained,  had  become  fully  ri})e.  As  regarded 
politics,  philosophy,  religion,  and  society,  the  utmost  limits  had  been 
reached.^  Beyond  them  lay,  as  only  alternatives,  ruin  or  regeneration. 
It  was  felt  that  the  boundaries  of  the  Empire  could  be  no  further 
extended,  and  that  henceforth  the  highest  aim  must  be  to  preserve 
what  had  l)een  conquered.  The  destinies  of  Rome  were  in  the  hands 
of  one  man,  who  was  at  the  same  time  general-in-chief  of  a  standing 
army  of  about  three  hundred  and  forty  thousand  men,  head  of  a 
Senate  (now  sunk  into  a  mere  court  for  registering  the  commands  of 
Caesar),  and  High-Priest  of  a  religion,  of  Avhich  the  highest  expression 
was  the  apotheosis  of  the  State  in  the  person  of  the  Emperor.  Thus, 
all  power  within,  without,  and  above  lay  in  his  hands.  AVithin  the  city, 
which  in  one  short  reign  was  transformed  from  brick  into  marble,  were, 
side  by  side,  the  most  abject  misery  and  almost  boundless  luxury.  Of 
a  population  of  about  two  millions,  well-nigh  one  half  were  slaves;  and, 
of  the  rest,  the  greater  part  either  freedmen  and  their  descendants, 
or  foreigners.  Each  class  contril)uted  its  share  to  the  common  decay. 
Slavery  was  not  even  what  we  know  it,  but  a  seething  mass  of  cruelty 
and  oppression  on  the  one  side,  and  of  cunning  and  corruption  on  the 
other.  More  than  any  other  cause,  it  contributed  to  the  ruin  of  Roman 
society.  The  freedmen,  who  had  very  often  acquired  their  liberty 
by  the  most  disreputable  courses,  and  had  prospered  in  them,  com- 
bined in  shameless  manner  the  vices  of  the  free  with  the  vilcness  of 
the  slave.  The  foreigners— especially  Greeks  and  Syrians— who  crowded 
the  city,  poisoned  the  springs  of  its  life  by  the  corruption  which  they 
brought.  The  free  citizens  were  idle,  dissipated,  sunken;  their  chief 
thoughts  of  the  theatre  and  the  arena;  and  they  were  mostly  sup- 
ported at  the  public  cost.  While,  even  in  the  time  of  Augustus, 
more  than  two  hundred  thousand  persons  were  thus  maintained  by 
the  State,  what  of  the  old  Roman  stock  remained  was  rapidly  decaying, 
partly  from  corruption,  but  chiefly  from  the  increasing  cessation  of  mar- 
riage, and  the  nameless  abominations  of  what  remained  of  family-life. 

'  Instead  of  detailed  quotations  I  Sittengeschlchte  Roms,  and  to  DbUin- 
wonlil  liere  {renorally  refer  to  works  on  r/prii  exhaustive  work,  Heidenthum  and 
Roman  hiritory,esi)eclallyto  Friedldnder's      Judeuthum. 


THE    ANCIENT   ROMAN   WORLD.  257 

The  state  of  tlie  provinces  was  in  every  respect  more  favourable.  CHAP. 
But  it  was  the  settled  policy  of  the  Empire,  which  only  too  surely  XI 
succeeded,  to  destroy  all  separate  nationalities,  or  rather  to  absorb  ^— -^r-*-^ 
and  to  Grecianise  all.  The  only  real  resistance  came  from  the  Jews. 
Their  tenacity  was  religious,  and,  even  in  its  extreme  of  intolerant 
exclusiveness,  served  a  most  important  Providential  purpose.  And 
so  Rome  became  to  all  the  centre  of  attraction,  but  also  of  fast-spread- 
ing destructive  corruption.  Yet  this  unity  also,  and  the  common 
bond  of  the  Greek  language,  served  another  important  Providential 
purpose.  So  did,  in  another  direction,  the  conscious  despair  of  any 
possible  internal  reformation.  This,  indeed,  seemed  the  last  word 
of  all  the  institutions  in  the  Roman  world:  It  is  not  in  me!  Reli- 
gion, philosophy,  and  society  had  passed  through  every  stage,  to  that 
of  despair.  Without  tracing  the  various  phases  of  ancient  thought, 
it  may  be  generally  said  that,  in  Rome  at  least,  the  issue  lay  between 
Stoicism  and  Epicureanism.  The  one  flattered  its  pride,  the  other 
gratified  its  sensuality;  the  one  was  in  accordance  with  the 
original  national  character,  the  other  with  its  later  decay  and  cor- 
ruption. Both  ultimately  led  to  atheism  and  despair — the  one,  by 
turning  all  higher  aspirations  self-Avard,  the  other,  by  quenching 
them  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  moment;  the  one,  by  making  the  ex- 
tinction of  all  feeling  and  self-deification,  the  other,  the  indulgence 
of  every  passion  and  the  worship  of  matter,  its  ideal. 

That,  under  such  conditions,  all  real  belief  in  a  personal  con 
tinuance  after  death  must  have  ceased  among  the  educated  classes, 
needs  not  demonstration.  If  the  older  Stoics  held  that,  after  death, 
the  soul  would  continue  for  some  time  a  separate  existence — in  the 
case  of  sages  till  the  general  destruction  of  the  world  by  fire,  it  was 
the  doctrine  of  most  of  their  successors  that,  immediately  after  death, 
the  soul  returned  into  '  the  world-soul '  of  which  it  was  part.  But 
even  this  hope  was  beset  by  so  many  doubts  and  misgivings,  as  to 
make  it  practically  without  influence  or  comfort.  Cicero  was  the 
only  one  who,  following  Plato,  defended  the  immortality  of  the  soul, 
Aviiile  the  Peripatetics  denied  the  existence  of  a  soul,  and  leading 
Stoics  at  least  its  continuance  after  death.  But  even  Cicero  writes 
as  one  overwhelmed  by  doubts.  With  his  contemporaries  this  doul)t 
deepened  into  absolute  despair,  the  only  comfort  lying  in  present 
indulgence  of  the  passions.  Even  among  the  Greeks,  who  were  most 
tenacious  of  belief  in  the  non-extinction  of  the  individual,  the  prac- 
tical upshot  was  the  same.  The  only  healthier  tendency,  however 
mixed  with  error,  came  from  the  Xeo-Platonic  School,  Avhicli  accord- 


258  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

I!()()K      iii.u'ly  olfcrcd  a  point  of  contact  between  ancient  i:)hilosophy  and  the 
II  new  faith. 

"■ (^"^^         In  such  circumstances,  anything  like  real  religion  was  manifestly 

impossible.  Rome  tolerated,  and,  indeed,  incorporated,  all  national 
rites.  But  among  the  populace  religion  had  degenerated  into  abject 
superstition.  In  the  East,  much  of  it  consisted  of  the  vilest  rites; 
while,  among  the  philosophers,  all  religions  were  considered  equally 
false  or  equally  true — the  outcome  of  ignorance,  or  else  the  uncon- 
scious moditications  of  some  one  fundamental  thought.  The  only 
religion  on  which  the  State  insisted  was  the  deification  and  worship 
of  the  Emperor.^  These  apotheoses  attained  almost  incredible  de- 
velopment. Soon  not  only  the  Emperors,  but  their  wives,  paramours, 
children,  and  the  creatures  of  their  vilest  lusts,  were  deified;  nay, 
any  private  person  might  attain  that  distinction,  if  the  survivors 
possessed  suflicient  means.  ^  Mingled  with  all  this  was  an  increasing 
amount  of  superstition — by  which  term  some  understood  the  worship 
of  foreign  gods,  the  most  part  the  existence  of  fear  in  religion.  The 
ancient  Roman  religion  had  long  given  place  to  foreign  rites,  the 
more  mysterious  and  unintelligible  the  more  enticing.  It  was  thus 
that  Judaism  made  its  converts  in  Rome;  its  chief  recommendation 
with  many  being  its  contrast  to  the  old,  and  the  unknown  possibili- 
ties which  its  seemingly  incredible  doctrines  opened.  Among  the 
most  repulsive  symptoms  of  the  general  religious  decay  may  be 
reckoned  prayers  for  the  death  of  a  rich  relative,  or  even  for  the 
satisfaction  of  unnatural  lusts,  along  with  horrible  blasphemies  when 
such  prayers  remained  unanswered.  We  may  here  contrast  the  spirit 
of  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  with  such  sentiments  as  this,  on  the 
tomb  of  a  child:  'To  the  unjust  gods  who  robbed  me  of  life;'  or  on 
that  of  a  girl  of  twenty :  '  I  lift  my  hands  against  the  god  who  took 
me  away,  innocent  as  I  am.  ' 

It  would  be  unsavoury  to  describe  how  far  the  worsliip  of  in- 
decency was  carried;  how  public  morals  were  corrupted  by  the 
mimic  representations  of  everything  that  was  vile,  and  even  by  the 
]iandering  of  a  corrupt  art.  The  personation  of  gods,  oracles, 
divination,  dreams,  astrology,  magic,  necromancy,  and  theurgy,^  all 

1  The  oiil.v  thorough  resistance  to  this  ^  One  of  tlie  most  painful,  and  to  tlie 

■worship  came  from  hated  Jud«a,  and,  we  Christian  almost  incredible,  manifesta- 

may  add,  from  Britain  {BbUimjer,  p.  Gil),  tions  of  relip;ious  decay  was  the  unblush- 

''  From  tlie  time  of  Ca-sar  to  that  of  ins;  manner  in  which  the  priests  practised 

Diocletian,    fifty-three   such    ajiotheoses  imposture  upon   the  i)eople.    Numerous 

took  idace,  including  those  of  fifteen  wo-  and  terrible  instances  of  this  could  be 

men  belonging  to  the  Imperial  families,  given.     The  evidence  of  this  is  not  only 


MORALS,    SOCIETY,    AND    rillLOSOl'llY.  259 

contributed  to  the  general  decay.  It  has  been  ri<i-htly  said,  that  the  CHAP. 
idea  of  conscience,  as  we  understand  it,  was  unknown  to  heathenism.  ^'I 
Absohite  right  did  not  exist.  Might  was  right.  The  social  relations  ^— ^(  ' 
exhil)ited,  if  possible,  even  deeper  corruption.  The  sanctity  of  mar- 
riage had  ceased.  Female  dissipation  and  the  general  dissoluteness 
led  at  last  to  an  almost  entire  cessation  of  nmrriage.  Abortion,  and 
the  exposure  and  murder  of  newly-born  children,  were  common  and 
tolerated;  unnatural  vices,  which  even  the  greatest  philosophers  prac- 
tised, if  not  advocated,  attained  proportions  which  defy  description. 
But  among  these  sad  signs  of  the  times  three  must  be  specially 
mentioned:  the  treatment  of  slaves;  the  bearing  towards  the  poor; 
and  public  amusements.  The  slave  was  entirely  uni)rotected;  males 
and  females  were  exposed  to  nameless  cruelties,  compared  to  which 
death  by  being  thrown  to  the  wild  beasts,  or  fighting  in  the  arena, 
might  seem  absolute  relief.  Sick  or  old  slaves  were  cast  out  to 
perish  from  want.  But  what  the  influence  of  the  slaves  must  have 
been  on  the  free  population,  and  especially  ui)on  the  young — whose 
tutors  they  generally  were — may  readily  l)e  imagined.  The  heart- 
lessness  towards  the  poor  who. crowded  the  city  is  another  well-known 
feature  of  ancient  Roman  society.  Of  course,  there  was  neither 
hospitals,  nor  provision  for  the  poor;  charity  and  brotherly  love  in 
their  every  manifestation  are  purely  Old  and  New  Testament  ideas. 
But  even  the  l)estowal  of  the  snudlest  alms  on  tlie  needy  was  regarded 
as  very  questionable;  best,  not  to  attbrd  them  the  means  of  i)rotracting 
a  useless  existence.  Lastly,  the  account  which  Seneca  has  to  give 
of  what  occupied  and  amused  the  idle  multitude — for  all  manual 
labour,  except  agriculture,  was  looked  upon  with  utmost  contempt 
— horrified  even  himself.  And  so  the  only -escajje  which  remained 
for  the  pliiloso]iher,  the  satiated,  or  the  miserable,  seemed  the  i)Ower 
of  self-destruction!  What  is  worse,  the  noblest  spirits  of  the  time 
felt,  that  the  state  of  things  was  utterly  hopeless.  Society  could 
not  reform  itself;  philosophy  and  religion  had  nothing  to  ofler:  they 
had  been  tried  and  found  wanting.  Seneca  longed  tor  some  hand 
from  without  to  lift  up  from  the  mire  of  desj)air;  Cicero  pictured 
the  enthusiasm  which  would  greet  the  embodiment  of  true  virtue, 
should  it  ever  appear  on  earth;    Tacitus  declared  lunnan  life  one 

derived  from  the  Fathers.  T)nt  a  work  lias  practised.     (Comp.    '  The  rneumaties  of 

l)een  preserved  in  which  formal  iiistruc-  Hero,' translated  l)y  7:;.  lloof/rro/y.)  The 

tions  are  ,s;iven.  how  temples  and  altars  worst  was,  that  this  kind   of   imposture 

are  to  lie  constructed  in  order  to  produce  on  tlie  i,<;-noranti)oi»nlace  was  openly  ap- 

false  miracles,   and  by  what  m(>ans  im-  i)roved  by  the  educated.     {Dollinger,  p. 

postures  of  this  kind  nuiy  be  successfully  647.) 


160 


FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK  great  farce,  and  expressed  his  conviction  that  the  Roman  world  laj 
^I  nnder  some  terrible  curse.  All  around,  despair,  conscious  need,  and 
— >" — '  unconscious  longing.  Can  greater  contrast  he  inuigined,  than  the 
proclannition  of  a  coming  Kingdom  of  God  amid  such  a  world;  oi 
clearer  evidence  be  afforded  of  the  reality  of  this  Divine  message, 
than  that  it  came  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was  thus  lost?  One 
synchronism,  as  remarkable  as  that  of  the  Star  in  the  East  and  the 
Birth  of  the  Messiah,  here  claims  the  reverent  attention  of  the  student 
of  history.  On  the  19th  of  December  a.d.  G9,  the  R(nnan  Capitol, 
with  its  ancient  sanctuaries,  was  set  on  fire.  Eight  months  later, 
on  the  9th  of  Ab  a.d.  70,  the  Temple  of  Jerusalem  was  given  to  the 
flames.  It  is  not  a  coincidence  but  a  conjunction,  for  upon  the  ruins 
of  heathenism  and  of  apostate  Judaism  was  the  Church  of  Christ  to 
be  reared. 

A  silence,  even  more  complete  than  that  concerning  the  early  life 
of  Jesus,  rests  on  the  thirty  years  and  more,  which  intervened  between 
the  l)irth  and  the  open  tbrthshowing  ^  of  John  in  his  character  as 
Forerunner  of  the  Messiah.  Only  his  outward  and  inward  develop- 
ment, and  his  ])eing  'in  the  deserts,'"  are  brielly  indicated.''  The 
latter,  assuredly,  not  in  order  to  learn  from  the  Essenes,^  but  to 
attain  really,  in  lonely  fellowship  with  God,  what  they  sought  extern- 
ally. It  is  characteristic  that,  while  Jesus  could  go  straight  from 
the  home  and  workshop  of  Nazareth  to  the  Baptism  of  Jordan,  His 
Forerunner  recjuired  so  long  and  peculiar  preparation:  characteristic 
of  the  difference  of  their  Persons  and  Mission,  characteristic  also  of 
the  greatness  of  the  work  to  be  inaugurated.  St.  Luke  furnishes 
precise  notices  of  the  time  of  the  Baptist's  public  appearance — not 
merely  to  fix  the  exact  chronology,  which  woidd  not  have  required 
so  many  details,  ])ut  for  a  higher  pur^DOse.  For,  they  indicate,  more 
clearly  than  the  most  elaborate  discussion,  the  fitness  of  the  moment 
for  the  Advent  of  'the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.'  For  the  first  time 
since  the  Ba])ylonish  Captivity,  the  foreigner,  the  Cliief  of  the  hated 
Roman  Empire — according  to  the  Rabbis,  the  fourth  beast  of  Daniel's 
bAb.zar.2  6  visiou  *" — was  absolutc  and   undisputed   master  of  Judaea;    and  the 


"  St.  Luke  1 
80 


1  This  seems  the  full  meanin.s:  of  the 
■word,  St.  Luke  i.  80.  Comp.  Acts  i.  2i 
(in  tlie  A.V.  'shew  '). 

•^  The  plural  indicates  that  St.  John 
was  not  always  in  the  same  'wilder- 
ness.' The  plural  form  in  re<i;ard  to  the 
'  wildernesses  which  are  in  tlie  land  of 
Israel,'  is  common  in  Raljbinic  writinfjs 
(comp.  Baba  K.  vii.  7  and  the  Gemaras 


on  the  i)as3a^e).  On  the  fulfilment  by 
the  Baptist  of  Ls.  xl.  3.  see  the  di-scussion 
of  that  i)assage  in  Ap})endlx  XL 

^  Godet  has,  in  a  few  forcible  sentences, 
traced  what  may  be  called  not  merely 
the  ditference.  but  the  contrast  between 
the  teachinir  and  aims  of  the  Essenes  and 
those  of  John. 


THE   SONS   AND   SUCCESSORS   OF   HEROD. 


261 


chief  religious  office  divided  between  two,  equally  unworthy  of  its  CHAP, 
functions.     And  it  deserves,    at  least,   notice,    that  of  the  Rulers        XI 

mentioned  by  St.  Luke,   Pilate  entered  on  his  office"  only  shortly  ' — ~r — 

before  the  public  ap])earance  of  John,  and  that  they  ail  continued  "P>'>habiy 

.        .  .  "^  about 

till  after  the  Crucitixion  of  Christ.     There  was  thus,  so  to  speak,  a   Ea.stor,  26 
continuity  of  these  powers  during  the  whole  Messianic  period. 

As  regards  Palestine,  the  ancient  kingdom  of  Herod  was  now 
divided  into  four  parts,  Judasa  being  under  the  direct  administration 
of  Rome,  two  other  tetrarchies  under  the  rule  of  Herod's  sons  (Herod 
Antipas  and  Philip),  while  the  small  principality  of  Abilene  was 
governed  by  Lysanias.^  Of  the  latter  no  details  can  be  furnished, 
nor  are  they  necessary  in  this  history.  It  is  otherwise  as  regards  the 
sont;  of  Herod,  and  especially  the  character  of  the'  Roman  government 
at  that  time. 

Herod  Antipas,  whose  rule  extended  over  fortj^-three  years, 
reigned  over  Galilee  and  Persea — the  districts  which  were  respec- 
tively the  principal  sphere  of  the  Ministry  of  Jesus  and  of  John  the 
Baptist.  Like  his  brother  Archelaus,  Herod  Antii)as  possessed  in  an 
even  aggravated  form  most  of  the  vices,  without  any  of  the  greater 
qualities,  of  his  father.  Of  deeper  religious  feelings  or  convictions 
he  was  entirely  destitute,  though  his  conscience  occasionally  misgave, 
if  it  did  not  restrain,  him.  The  inherent  weakness  of  his  character 
left  him  in  the  absolute  control  of  his  wife,  to  the  final  ruin  of  his  for- 
tunes. He  was  covetous,  avaricious,  luxurious,  and  utterly  dissipated; 
suspicious,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  that  fox-cunning  which,  especially 
in  the  East,  often  forms  the  sum  total  of  state-craft.  Like  his  father, 
he  indulged  a  taste  for  building — always  taking  care  to  i)ropitiate 
Rome  by  dedicating  all  to  the  Emperor.-  The  most  extensive  of  his 
undertakings  was  the  building,  in  22  a.d.,  of  the  city  of  Tiberias,  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee.  The  site  was  under  the 
disadvantage  of  having  formerly  been  a  burying-place,  which,  as 
implying  Lcvitical  uncleanness,  for  some  time  deterred  i)ious  Jews 
from  settling  there.  Nevertheless,  it  rose  in  great  magiiiticence  from 
among  the  reeds  which  had  but  lately  covered  the  neighbourhood 
(the  ensigns  armorial  of  the  city  were  'reeds').  Herod  Antipas  made 
it  his  residence,   and  built  there  a  strong  castle  and  a  i)alace  of 


1  Till  quite  lately,  those  who  iini)u<i"ii 
the  veracity  of  the  Cfospels — Siraitss,  and 
even  Kenn — have  pointed  to  this  notice 
of  Lysanias  as  an  instance  of  the  unhis- 
torical  character  of  St.  Luke's  Gospel. 
But  it  is  now  admitted  on  all  h?.nds  that 


the  notice  of  St.  Luke  is  strictly  correct; 
and  that,  besides  the  other  Lysanias.  one 
of  the  same  name  had  rei^yiied  over 
Abilene  at  the  time  of  Christ.  Comp. 
Wi^seler,  Beitr.  i)p.  196-204.  ■AudSc/iilrer 
in  Eiehm's  Handworterl),  p.  !)81. 


262 


FROM    RETIILETIEM   TO   JORDAN. 


BOOK 
Tl 


a  PUlo, 

ed.  Frcf., 
Leg.  1015 


c.Sm/'<.  Tiber. 
69 


4  Philn,  U.S. 
1034 

«  Jnx.  Ant. 
xvlii.  3.  1,  2 

fSt.  Luke 
xili.  1 

e  Ant.  xviii. 
4.1,2. 

h  Philo.lieg. 
1033 


unrivalled  splendour.  The  city,  which  was  peopled  cliiefly  by  ad- 
venturers, was  mainly  Grecian,  and  adorned  with  an  amphitheatre, 
of  which  the  ruins  can  still  be  traced. 

A  happier  account  can  be  given  of  Philip,  the  son  of  Herod  the 
Great  and  Cleoi)atra  of  Jerusalem.  He  was  undoubtedly  the  best 
of  Herod's  sons.  He  showed,  indeed,  the  same  abject  submission  as 
the  rest  of  his  family  to  the  Roman  Emperor,  after  whom  he  named 
the  city  of  Csesarea  Philippi,  which  he  built  at  the  sources  of  the 
Jordan;  just  as  he  changed  the  name  of  Bethsaida,  a  village  of  which 
he  made  an  opulent  city,  into  Julias,  after  the  daughter  of  Augustus. 
But  he  was  a  moderate  and  just  ruler,  and  his  reign  of  thirty-seven 
years  contrasted  favourably  with  that  of  his  kinsmen.  The  land  was 
quiet  and  prosperous,  and  the  people  contented  and  hapj^y. 

As  regards  the  Roman  rule,  matters  had  greatly  changed  for  the 
worse  since  the  mild  sway  of  Augustus,  under  which,  in  the  language 
of  Philo,  no  one  throughout  the  Empire  dared  to  molest  the  Jews." 
The  only  innovations  to  which  Israel  had  then  to  submit  were,  the 
daily  sacrifices  for  the  Emperor  and  the  Roman  people,  offerings  on 
festive  days,  prayers  for  them  in  the  Synagogues,  and  such  partici- 
l)ation  in  national  joy  or  sorrow  as  their  religion  allowed.'' 

It  was  far  other  when  Tiberius  succeeded  to  the  Empire,  and 
Judasa  was  a  province.  Merciless  harshness  characterised  the  ad- 
ministration of  Palestine;  while  the  Emperor  himself  was  bitterly 
hostile  to  Judaism  and  the  Jews,  and  that  although,  personally, 
openly  careless  of  all  religion.  "=  Under  his  reign  the  persecution 
of  the  Roman  Jews  occurred,  and  Palestine  suffered  almost  to  the 
verge  of  endurance.  The  first  Procurator  whom  Tiberius  appointed 
over  Judasa,  changed  the  occupancy  of  the  High-Priesthood  four 
times,  till  he  found  in  Caiaphas  a  sufficiently  submissive  instrument 
of  Roman  tyranny.  The  exactions,  and  the  reckless  disregard  of  all 
Jewish  feelings  and  interests,  might  have  been  characterised  as 
reaching  the  extreme  limit,  if  worse  had  not  followed  when  Pontius 
Pilate  succeeded  to  the  procuratorshij).  Yenality,  violence,  robbery, 
persecutions,  wanton  malicious  insults,  judicial  murders  without 
even  the  formality  of  a  legal  process,  and  cruelty — such  are  the 
charges  brought  against  his  administration.''  If  former  governors 
had,  to  some  extent,  respected  the  religious  scruples  of  the  Jews, 
Pilate  set  them  purposely  at  defiance;  and  this  not  only  once,  but 
again  and  again,  in  Jerusalem,"^  in  Galilee,-' and  even  in  Samaria,*^ 
until  the  Emperor  himself  interposed.'' 

Such,   then,   was  the  political  condition  of  flic  land,  Avhen  Jolm 


THE   HIGH-PRIESTS   AND   THEIR    FAMflJES. 


263 


appeared  to  preach  the  near  Advent  of  a  Kingdom  with  wliich 
Israel  associated  all  that  was  happy  and  glorious,  even  beyond  the 
dreams  of  the  religious  enthusiast.  And  equally  loud  was  the  call 
for  help  in  reference  to  those  who  held  chief  spiritual  rule  over  the 
people.  St.  Luke  significantly  joins  together,  as  the  highest  religious 
authority  in  the  land,  the  names  of  Annas  and  Caiaphas.^  The 
former  had  been  appointed  by  Quirinius,  After  holding  the  Pontifi- 
cate for  nine  years,  he  was  deposed,  and  succeeded  by  others,  of 
whom  the  fourth  was  his  son-in-law  Caiaphas.  The  character  of  the 
High-Priests  during  the  whole  of  that  period  is  described  in  the 
Talmud "  in  terrible  language.  And  although  there  is  no  evidence 
that  '  the  house  of  Annas '  ^  was  guilty  of  the  same  gross  self- 
indulgence,  violence,"  luxury,  and  even  public  indecency,"  as  some  of 
their  successors,  they  are  included  in  the  woes  pronounced  on  the 
corrupt  leaders  of  the  priesthood,  whom  the  Sanctuary  is  represented 
as  bidding  depart  from  the  sacred  precincts,  which  their  presence 
defiled."*  It  deserves  notice,  that  the  special  sin  with  which  the 
house  of  Annas  is  charged  is  that  of  '  whispering ' — or  hissing  like 
vipers — which  seems  to  refer  ^  to  private  influence  on  the  judges 
in  their  administration  of  justice,  whereby  '  morals  w^ere  corrupted, 
judgment  perverted,  and  the  Shekhinah  withdrawn  from  Israel. ' ' 
In  illustration  of  this,  we  recall  the  terrorism  which  prevented  San- 
hedrists  from  taking  the  part  of  Jesus, ^  and  especially  the  violence 
which  seems  to  have  determined  the  final  action  of  the  Sanhedrin,-'^ 
against  which  not  only  such  men  as  Mcodemus  and  Joseph  of  Ari- 
mathaea,  but  even  a  Gamaliel,  would  feel  themselves  powerless.  But 
although  the  expression  '  High-Priest '  appears  somctiuics  to  have 
been  used  in  a  general  sense,  as  designating  the  sons  of  the  High- 
Priests,  and  even  the  principal  members  of  their  families,"  there  could, 


CHAP. 
XI 


1  Tlie  Procurators  were  Imperial  fin- 
ancial officers,  witii  absohite  i)ower  of 
{government  in  smaller  territories.  The 
office  was  generally  in  tlie  hands  of  tlie 
Roman  knights,  which  chietly  consisted 
of  financial  men,  banl\ers.  ciiief  imltii- 
cans,  etc.  The  order  of  knighthood  had 
sunk  to  a  low  state,  and  the  exactions  of 
such  a  rule,  especially  in  Jud.Ta,  can  bet- 
ter be  imagined  than  described.  Com)), 
on  the  whole  subject,  Frfed/auder,  Sit- 
tengesch.  Rom,  vol.  i.  p.  2GS  S:c. 

'^  Annas,  either  Chdnan  (pn),  or  else 
Ghana  or  Chanva,  a  common  name.  Pro- 
fessor Delitzsch  has  rightly  shown  that 
the  Hebrew  equivalent  for  Caiaphas  is 
not  Ket/pJia  (N'p^r)  =Peter,  but  luojapha 


(J^-^'r*'  or  perhai)S  rather — according  to 

the    reading  Kai(!)aZ — Xy^p  Kaiplia,  or 

Kaiphah.  The  name  occurs  in  the  Mishnah 
as  Kayaph  [so,  and  not  A'(/;>/(,  correctly] 
(Parah  iii.  5).  Professor  Delitzsch  does 
not  venture  to  exi)lain  its  meaning. 
Would  it  be  too  bold  to  suggest  a  deriva- 
tion from  N'Cp,  and  the  meaning  to  be: 
He  who  is  '  at  the  top  '  ? 

3  If  we  may  take  a  statement  in  the 
Talmud,  where  the  same  word  occurs,  as 
a  commentai-y. 

*  I  do  not,  however,  feel  sure  that  the 
word  'high-priests'  in  this  passage  should 
be  closely  i)ressed.  It  is  just  one  of  those 
instances  in  wliich  it  would  suit  Josephus 


•>  Jos.  Ant. 
XX.  8.  8 

I'  Yoma  35  6 


''  Pes.  U.S. 


<■  Tos.  Set. 
siv. 


f  St.  John 
Til.  50-52 

e  St.  John 
xl.  47-50 


Vos.  Jewish 
War  vl.  2.2 


264 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 


»  St.  .John 
xi.  49 

I-  St.  .Jf.hn 
xviii.  13 


:  779  A.TT.C. 


■'  St.  Luke 
iii.  3 


'  St. 
28 


•John  i. 


'  '2  Kings  i. 


ol'  course,  be  only  ouc  actual  High-Priest.  The  conjunction  of  the 
two  names  of  Annas  and  Caiaphas  ^  probably  indicates  that,  although 
Annas  was  deprived  of  the  Pontificate,  he  still  continued  to  preside 
over  the  Sanhedrin — a  conclusion  not  only  borne  out  by  Acts  iv.  6, 
wliere  Annas  appears  as  the  actual  President,  and  I)}'  the  terms  in 
which  Caiaphas  is  spoken  of,  as  merely  *  one  of  them,'  ^  but  by  the  part 
which  Annas  took  in  the  final  condemnation  of  Jesus.'' 

Such  a  combination  (jf  political  and  religious  distress,  surely,  con- 
stituted the  time  of  Israel's  utmost  need.  As  yet,  no  attempt  had  been 
made  by  the  people  to  right  themselves  by  armed  force.  In  these  cir- 
cumstances, the  cry  that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  was  near  at  hand, 
and  the  call  to  preparation  for  it,  must  have  awakened  echoes  through- 
out the  land,  and  startled  the  most  careless  and  unbelievings  It 
was,  according  to  St.  Luke's  exact  statement,  in  the  fifteenth  year  of 
the  reign  of  Tiberius  Ceesar — reckoning,  as  provincials  would  do,^ 
from  his  co-regency  with  Augustus  (which  commenced  two  years 
before  his  sole  reign),  in  the  year  26  a. d."  According  to  our  former 
computation,  Jesus  would  then  be  in  His  thirtieth  year.^  The  scene 
of  John's  first  public  appearance  was  in  'the  wilderness  of  Jiidsea,' 
that  is,  the  wild,  desolate  district  around  the  mouth  of  the  Jordan. 
We  know  not  whether  John  baptized  in  this  place,*  nor  yet  how  long 
he  continued  there;  but  we  are  expressh^  told,  that  his  stay  was  not 
confined  to  that  locality.**  Soon  afterwards  we  find  him  at  Bethabara," 
which  is  farther  up  the  stream.  The  outward  appearance  and  the 
habits  of  the  Messenger  corresponded  to  the  character  and  object  of 
his  Mission.  jS"either  his  dress  nor  his  food  was  that  of  the  Essenes;  ^ 
and  the  former,  at  least,  like  that  of  Elijah,*^  whose  mission  he  was 
now  to  '  fulfil.' 


to  give  such  a  graudiose  title  to  those 
■who  joined  the  Romans. 

'  This  only  in  St.  Luke. 

^Wieseler  has,  I  think,  satisfactorily  es- 
tablished this.  Conip.  Beitr.  pp.  191-194. 

^  St.  Luke  speaks  of  Christ  being 
'about  thirty  years  old'  at  the  time  of 
His  baptism.  If  John  began  His  ])ublic 
ministry  in  the  autumn,  and  some  months 
elapsed  before  Jesus  was  baptized,  our 
Lord  would  have  just  i)as3ed  His  thirtieth 
year  when  He  ai)i)eared  at  Bethabara. 
We  have  i)ositive  evidence  that  the  ex- 
pression '  about '  before  a  numeral  meant 
either  a  little  more  or  a  little  less  tiian 
that  exact  number.  See  Midr.  on  Ruth  i. 
4  ed.  Warsh.  p.  39  f>. 

*  Here  tradition,  tliough  evidently 
falsely,  locates  the  Baptism  of  .Jesusu 


^  In  reference  not  only  to  this  point, 
but  in  general,  I  would  refer  to  Bishop 
Light/oofs  masterly  essay  on  the  Es- 
senes in  his  Appendix  to  his  Commen- 
tary on  Colossians  (especially  here,  pp. 
388,  400).  It  is  a  remarkable  confirma- 
tion of  the  fact  that,  if  John  had  been 
an  Essene,  his  food  could  not  have  been 
'  locusts '  that  the  Gospel  of  the  Ebion- 
ites.  who,  like  the  Essenes,  abstained 
from  animal  food,  omits  the  mention  of 
the  'locusts,'  of  St.  Matt.  iii.  4.  (see  Mr. 
Nicholson''s  '  The  Gospel  of  the  He- 
brews,' pp.  34.  35).  But  jM'oof  positive 
is  derived  from  Jer.  Nedar.  40  h,  where, 
in  case  of  a  vow  of  abstinence  from 
flesh,  fish  and  locusts  are  interdicted. 

•*  Our  A.Y.  wrongly  translates  '  a  hairy 
man,'  instead  of   a  man  with  a  hairy 


THE   'KINGDOM  OF   HEAVEN'  AND   THE   OLD   TESTAMENT.  '        265 

This  was  evinced  alike  by  what  he  preached,  and  l)y  the  new     CHAP. 
symbolic  rite,  IVoni  wiiich  he  derived  the  name  of  '  Baptist.'     The        XI 
grand   burden   of    his    message   was:    the    announcement    of  tlie  ^- — -v^— ^ 
approach  of  'the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,'  and  the  needed  preparation 
of  his  hearers  for  that  Kingdom.     The  latter  he  sought,  positively, 
by  admonition,  and  negatively,  by  warnings,  while  he  directed  all 
to   the   Coming   One,    in  Whom  that  Kingdom  would  become,   so 
to  speak,  individualised.     Thus,   from  the  first,    it  was  '  tlie  good 
news  of  the  Kingdom,'  to  which  all  else  in  J-ohn's  })reaching  was 
but  subsidiary. 

Concerning  this  '  Kingdom  of  Heaven, '  which  was  the  great  mes- 
sage of  John,  and  the  great  work  of  Christ  Himself,'  we  may  here 
say,  that  it  is  the  whole  Old  Testament  sublimated.,  and  the  whole 
^ew  Testament  realised.  The  idea  of  it  did  not  lie  hidden  in 
the  Old,  to  be  opened  up  in  the  New  Testament — as  did  the  mystery 
of   its   realisation.''      But   this   rule   of    heaven   and   Kingship    of  >Kom.  xvi. 

25,  2C; 

Jehovah  was  the  very  substance  of  the  Old  Testament;  the  object   Eph.  1.9; 

.       .  .  .  Col.  i.  26, 27 

of  the  calling  and  mission  of  Israel ;  the  meaning  of  all  its 
ordinances,  whether  civil  or  religious;  ^  the  underlying  idea  of  all 
its  institutions.^  It  explained  alike  the  history  of  the  people,  the 
dealings  of  God  with  them,  and  the  prospects  opened  up  by  the 
prophets.  Without  it  the  Old  Testament  could  not  be  understood; 
it  gave  perpetuity  to  its  teaching,  and  dignity  to  its  representations. 
This  constituted  alike  the  real  contrast  between  Israel  and  the 
nations  of  antiquity,  and  Israel's  real  title  to  distinction.  Thus  tlie 
whole  Old  Testament  was  the  preparatory  presentation  of  the  rule 
of  heaven  and  of  the  Kingship  of  its  Lord. 

But  preparatory  not  only  in  the  sense  of  typical,  but  also  in  that 
of  inchoative.  Even  the  twofold  hindrance — internal  and  external — 
which  '■  the  Kingdom  '  encountered,  indicated  this.  The  former  arose 
from  the  resistance  of  Israel  to  their  King;  the  latter  from  the  oi)i)o- 
sition  of  the  surrounding  kingdoms  of  this  world.  All  the  more 
intense  became  the  longing  through  thousands  of  years,  that  these 

(camel's  luiir)  raiment.'  This  seems  after-  designates  as  the  •  treibenden  Gedani<en 

wards  to   have  become    the   distinctive  des   Alten   Testamentes' — those   of  the 

dressof  the  prophets  (comp.  Zech.  xiii.  4).  Kingdom  and  the  King.    A  Kingdom  of 

1  Keim  beautifully  designates  it:  7)r?.s-  God  without  a  King:  a  Theocracy  with- 

LiebIi)/{/sirorf  Jesii.  out  tlie  rule  of  God;  a  i)erpetual  Davidie 

^  If,  indeed,  in  the  preliminary  dispen-  Kingdom  without   a  '  Son   of   David  ' — 

sation  these  two  can  be  well  sejiarated.  these   are    tnitinomies  (to    borrow  the 

•''  I  confess  myself  utterly  unable  to  term  of  Knnt)  of  which  neither  tlie  Old 

understand,  how  anyone  writing  a  His-  Testament,  tlio   Apocryjiha,   the   Pseud- 

tory  of  the  Jewish   Church  can   apiiar-  epigrai)hic  writings,  nor  Rabbiuism  were 

ently  eliminate  from  it  what  even  Keim  guilty. 


266 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK      hindrances  might  be  swept  away  by   the  Advent  of  the  promised 
H         Messiah,  Who  would  permanently  establish  (by  His  spirit)  the  right 

^^ r-"^  relationship  between  the  King  and  His  Kingdom,  by  bringing  in  an 

everlasting  righteousness,  and  also  cast  down  existing  barriers,  by 
calling  the  kingdoms  of  this  world  to  be  the  Kingdom  of  our  God. 
This  would,  indeed,  be  the  Advent  of  the  Kingdom  of  God,  such  as 
''xiv.  91  had  been  the  glowing  hope  held  out  by  Zcchariah,''  the  glorious 
1  Tii.  i3,u^  vision  beheld  by  Daniel.''  Three  ideas  especially  did  this  Kingdom  of 
{jfod  m\\)\y :  univei^sality,  heavenliness,  uml permanency.  Wide  as  God's 
domain  Avuuld  l)e  His  Dominion;  holy,  as  heaven  in  contrast  to  earth, 
and  God  to  man,  would  be  his  character;  and  triumphantly  lasting 
its  continuance.  Such  was  the  teaching  of  the  Old  Testament,  and 
the  groat  hope  of  Israel.  It  scarcely  needs  mental  compass,  only 
moral  and  spiritual  capacity,  to  see  its  matchless  grandeur,  in  con- 
trast with  even  the  highest  aspirations  of  heathenism,  and  the 
blanched  ideas  of  modern  culture. 

How  imperfectly  Israel  understood  this  Kingdom,  our  previous  in- 
vestigations have  shown.  In  trutli,  the  men  of  that  period  possessed 
only  the  term — as  it  were,  the  form.  What  explained  its  meaning, 
filled,  and  fulfilled  it,  came  once  more  I'rom  heaven.  Rabbinism  and 
Alexandrianism  kept  alive  the  thought  of  it;  and  in  their  own  way 
filled  the  soul  with  its  longing — just  as  the  distress  in  Church  and 
State  carried  the  need  of  it  to  every  heart  with  the  keenness 
of  anguish.  As  throughout  tliis  history,  the  foriii  was  of  that 
time;  tlie  substance  and  the  spirit  were  of  Him  Whose  coming 
was  the  Advent  of  that  Kingdom.  Perhaps  the  nearest  approach 
to  it  lay  in  the  higher  aspirations  of  the  Nationalist  party,  only 
that  it  sought  their  realisation,  not  spiritually,  l)ut  outwardly. 
Taking  the  sword,  it  perished  by  the  sword.  It  was  probably  to 
this  that  both  Pilate  and  Jesus  referred  in  that  memorable  question: 
'Art  Thou  then  a  King? '  to  which  our  Lord,  unfolding  the  deepest 
meaning  of  His  mission,  replied:  'My  Kingdom  is  not  of  this 
world:  if  ^ly  Kingdom  were  of  this  world,  then  would  My  servants 

■:  St.  John        tight.'" 

According  to  the  Rabbinic  views  of  the  time,  the  terms  '  King- 
dom,' 'Kingdom  of  heaven,'"  and  'Kingdom  of  God  '  (in  the  Targum 

1  '  And  the  Lord  shall  be  King  over  given  Him  dominion,  and  glory,  and  a 

all  the  earth:  in  that  day  shall  there  be  kingdom,  that  all  peoi)le,   nations,  and 

one  Lord,  and  His  Name  one.'  languages,  should  serve  Him :  His  domin- 

^  '  I   saw   in   the   night  visions,   and,  ion  is  an   everlasting   dominion,  which 

behold,  One  like  the  Son  of  Man  came  shall  not   pass  away,  and  His  kingdom 

with  the  clouds  of  heaven,  and  came  to  that  which  shall  not  be  destroyed.' 

the  Ancient  of   Days,  and  they  brought  •'  Occasionally   we     find,    instead    of 

Him  near  before  Him.     And  there  was  Malkhuth     Shumai/im    ('Kingdom     of 


THE   KINGDOM   OF   HEAVEN  ACCORDING   TO   THE   JEWISH   VIEW. 


267 


on  Micah  iv.  T  '  Kingdom  of  Jehovah  ' ),  were  equivalent.  In  fact, 
the  word  '  heaven '  was  very  often  used  instead  of 'God, 'so  as  to 
avoid  unduly-  familiarising  the  ear  with  the  Sacred  Name.^  Tliis, 
l)r()l)ably,  accounts  for  the  exclusive  use  of  the  expression  'Kingdom 
of  Heaven'  in  the  Gospel  by  St.  Matthew.^  And  the  term  did  imply 
a  contrast  to  earth,  as  the  expression  '  the  Kingdom  of  God '  did  to 
tliis  world.  The  consciousness  of  its  contrast  to  earth  or  the  world 
was  distinctly  expressed  in  Rabbinic  writings.'' 

This  'Kingdom  of  Heaven,'  or  'of  God,'  must,  however,  be  dis- 
tinguished troni  such  terms  as  'the  Kingdom  of  the  Messiah  '  {Mal- 
Kiiutha  duneshicha^'),  'the  future  age  (world)  of  the  Messiah'  (Alma 
deathey  dimesJdcha " ),  'the  days  of  the  Messiah,'  'the  age  to  come  ' 
{•scpculum  futmvim,  the  AtJtid  labho^ — both  this  and  the  previous 
expression''),  'the  end  of  days,'"  and  'the  end  of  the  extremity  of 
days  '  So2)h  Eqebh  Yomaija^).  This  is  the  more  important,  since  the 
'  Kingdom  of  Heaven '  has  so  often  been  confounded  with  the  period 
of  its  triumphant  manifestation  in  'the  days,'  or  in  'the  Kingdom, 
of  the  Messiah.'  Between  the  Advent  and  the  final  manifestation  of 
'the  Kingdom,'  Jewish  expectancy  i)laced  a  temporary  obscuration 
of  the  Messiah.*  Xot  His  first  appearance,  but  His  triumphant 
manifestation,  Avas  to  be  preceded  by  the  so-called  '  sorrows  of  the 
Messiah'  (the  ChebJdey  shel  Masliiach),  'the  tribulations  of  the  latter 
days.'^ 

A  review  of  many  passages  on  the  subject  shows  that,  in  the 
Jewish  mind  the  expression  '  Kingtlom  of  Heaven '  referred,  not  so 
much  to  any  particular  period,  as  in  general  to  the  Fade  of  God — as 
acknowledged,  manifested,  and  eventually  perfected.  Very  often  it 
is  the  equivalent  for  personal  acknowledgment  of  God:  the  taking 
upon  oneself  of  the  'yoke'  of  'the  Kingdom,'  or  of  the  command- 
ments— the  former  preceding  and  conditioning  the  latter. ^     Accord- 


CIIAI'. 
XI 


Heaven'),  Mal/i/iuf/ia  dii-^r/ii/fi  {^King,- 
(lom  of  the  tirniament '),  as  In  Ber.  58  a, 
Shel)liu.  35  b.  But  in  the  former  passa,2:e, 
at  least,  it  seems  to  ajiply  rather  to  God's 
Providential  government  than  to  His 
moral  reign. 

1  The  Talmud  (Shehhn.  35  h)  analyses 
the  various  i)asfeages  of  Scripture  in 
whicli  it  is  used  in  a  sacred  and  in  the 
common  sense. 

^  In  St.  Mattliew  the  expression  occurs 
thirty-two  times;  six  times  that  of  '  the 
Kimrdom; '  five  times  that  of  '  Kingdom 
of  God.' 

■^  The   distinction   between    tlie  O/mn 


hal)ba  (the  world  to  come),  and  the  Athid 
labho  (the  age  to  come),  is  important.  It 
will  be  more  fully  referred  to  by-and- 
by.  In  the  meantime,  suffice  it,  that  th(> 
Athid  I(d)Jio  is  the  more  specific  designa- 
tion of  Messianic  times.  The  two  terms 
are  expressly  distinguished,  for  example, 
in  Meclillta  (ed.  IT7^/.s.s'),  p.  "4  a,  lines 
2.  3. 

*  This  will  be  more  fully  explained 
and  shown  in  the  sequel.  For  tiie  pres- 
ent we  refer  only  to  Yalkut,  vol.  ii.  p.  75 
(7,  and  the  Mldr.  on  Ruth  ii.  14. 

■''  The  wliole  subject  is  ^ully  treated  in 
Book  y.  eh.  vi. 


1  As  in 
Shebhu 
35  b ;  Ber. 
R.  9,  ed. 
Warsh,  pp. 
19  6,  20  a 

•>  As  In  the 
Targuni  on 
Ps.  siv.  7, 
and  on  Is. 
Hil.  10 

'■  As  in 
Targum  on 
1  Kings  iv. 
33  (V.  13) 

d  For  ex 
ami)le,  in 
Ber.  R.  88, 
ed.  Warsh. 
p.  157  a 

'  Targ. 
Pseudo- 
Jon,  on  Ex. 
Xl.  9,  11 

f  Jer.  Targ. 
on  Gen.  iii. 
15;  Jer.  and 
Pseudo- 
Jon.  Targ 
on  Numb. 
xxiv.  14 


?  So  ex- 
pressly in 
Mechiita, 
p.  V.-)  a: 
YcUkut, 
vol.  ii.  p. 
14  a,  last 
lino 


268 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 


'  For  ex- 
ample, Ber. 
IJ  I',  U  b ; 
Ber.  li.  5; 
and  the 
touching 
story  of 
Kabbi 
Aklba  thus 
taking  up- 
on himself 
the  yoke  of 
the  Law  in 
the  hour  of 
his  martyr- 
dom, 
Ber,  61  h 

c  So  often, 
Comp, 
Slphrc-  p. 
14-i '',  li:3  b 
1  Ber,  K,  98 

<■  Yalkut, 
vol,ii,p.iy  a 

f  Midr.  on 

1  Sam,  ii, 
1'2:  Midr.on 
Eccl.  i.  18 

2  In  Yalkut 
ii.  p,  178  a 
hZech,xiv.9 


i  Midr.  on  1 
Sam,vili,7. 
Comf),  also 
generally 
Mldr.onPs. 
cxlvii.  1 


inglj,  tlic  Mishnah "  gives  this  as  the  reason  why,  in  the  collection 
of  Scripture  passages  which  forms  the  prayer  called  ^  Shema,' '^  the 
couicssion,  Dent.  vi.  4&c.,  precedes  the  admonition,  Dent.  xi.  18  &c., 
because  a  man  takes  upon  himself  first  the  yoke  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven,   and  afterw^ards  that  of  the  commandments.     And  in  this 
sense,  the  repetition  of  this  Shema,  as  the  personal  acknowledgment 
of  the  Rule  of  Jehovah,  is  itself  often  designated  as  '  taking  upon 
oneself  the   Kingdom  of  Heaven.'"      Similarly,    the  putting  on   of 
phylacteries,  and  the  washing  of  hands,  are  also  described  as  taking 
upon  oneself  the  yoke   of  the   Kingdom   of  God.^     To  give  other 
instances:  Israel  is  said  to  have  taken  up  the  yoke  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God  at  Mount  Sinai;"  the  children  of  Jacol)  at  their  last  inter- 
view with  their  father;'^    and  Isaiah  on  his  call  to  the  prophetic 
office,''  where  it  is  also  noted  that  this  nnist  be  done  willingly  and 
gladly.     On  the  other  hand,  the  sons  of  Eli  and  the  sons  of  Ahab  are 
said  to  have  cast  off  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.  "^     While  thus  the 
acknowledgment  of  the  Rule  of  God,  both  in  profession  and  practice, 
was  considered  to  constitute  the  Kingdom  of  God,  its  full  manifesta- 
tion was  expected  only  in  the  time  of  the  Advent  of  Messiah.     Thus 
in  the  Targum  on  Isaiah  xl.  9,  the  words    '  Behold  your  God!'    are 
paraphrased:   'The  Kingdom  of  your  God  is  revealed.'     Similarly, ^ 
we  read:   'When  the  time  approaches  that  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
shall  be  manifested,  then  shall  be  fulfilled  that  "the  Lord  shall  be 
King  over  all  the  earth.  """^     On  the  other  hand,  the  unbelief  of 
Israel  would  appear  in  that  they  would  reject  these  three  things:  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  the  Kingdom  of  the  House  of  David,  and  the 
buiMing  of  the  Temple,  according  to  the  prediction  in  Hos.  iii.  5.' 
It  follows  that,  after  the  period  of  unbelief,  the  Messianic  deliverances 
and  blessings  of  the  '  Athid  Labho,'  or  future  age,  were  expected. 
But  the  final  completion  of  all  still  remained  for  the  '01am  Ilabba,' 
or  world  to  come.     And  that  there  is  a  distinction  between  the  time 
of  the  Messiah  and  this  '  world  to  come  '  is  frequently  indicatetl  in 
Rabbinic  writings.'' 


^  The  Shema,  whicli  was  repeated  twice 
every  day,  was  re,i>;arded  as  distinctive  of 
Jewish  in-ofessioii  (Ber.  iii.  3). 

-  In  Ber.  14  b.  last  line,  and  \b  n, 
first  line,  there  is  a  shocking;  definition 
of  what  constitutes  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  in  its  comjileteness.  For  the 
sake  of  those  who  would  derive  Christi- 
anity from  Rabbinism,  I  would  have 
quoted  it,  but  am  restrained  by  its  pro- 
fanitv. 


^  The  same  passage  is  similarly  re- 
ferred to  in  the  Midr.  on  Song.  ii.  12, 
where  the  words  'the  time  of  the  singing 
has  come,'  areparaphra.sed;  'the  time  of 
the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  that  it  shall  be 
manifested,  hath  come '  (in  B.  Martini 
Pugio  Fidei,  p.  782). 

*  As  in  Shabb.  6.3  rr,  where  at  least 
three  differences  between  them  are  men- 
tioned. For.  while  all  ]irophecy  i)ointed 
to  the  days  of  the  Messiah,   concerning 


THE      KINGDOM   OF  GOD'   THE    'REKJN   OF   GOD.' 


269 


As  "wc  pass  Iroin  the  Jewish  ideas  of  tlie  time  to  the  teaching  of 
the  New  Testament,  we  feel  that  while  there  is  comjjlete  change  of 
S2)irit,  the  form  in  which  the  idea  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  pre- 
sented is  suhstantially  similai'.  Accordingly,  we  must  dismiss  the 
notion  that  the  expression  refers  to  the  Church,  whether  visible 
(according  to  the  Roman  Catholic  view)  or  invisible  (according  to 
certain  Protestant  writers)/  '  The  Kingdom  of  God,'  or  Kingly  Rule 
of  God,  is  an  objective  fact.  The  visil)le  Church  can  only  be  the  sub- 
jective attempt  at  its  outward  realisation,  of  which  the  invisil)le  Church 
is  the  true  counterpart.  When  Christ  says,''  that  '  except  a  man  be 
horn  from  above,  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God,'  He  teaches,  in 
opposition  to  the  Ral)l)inic  representation  of  how  'the  Kingdom'  was 
taken  up,  that  a  man  cannot  even  comprehend  that  glorious  idea  of 
the  Reign  of  God,  and  of  becoming,  by  conscious  self-surrender,  one 
of  His  subjects,  except  he  be  first  born  from  above.  Similarly,  the 
meaning  of  Christ's  further  teaching  on  this  subject ''seems  to  be  that, 
except  a  man  be  born  of  water  (profession,  with  baptism^  as    its 


»  St.  John 
Hi.  3 


the  world  to  come  we  are  told  (Ls.  Ixiv.  -t) 
that  'eye  hath  not  seen,  ttc.';  m  the 
days  of  the  Messiah  weapons  would  be 
borne,  but  not  in  the  world  to  come;  and 
while  Is.  xxiv.  21  applied  to  the  days  of 
the  Messiah,  the  seemingly  contradictory 
passage.  Is.  xxx.  26,  referred  to  the 
world  to  come.  In  Targum  Pseudo-Jon- 
athan on  Exod.  xvii.  IG,  we  read  of  three 
generations:  that  of  this  world,  that  of 
the  Messiah,  and  that  of  the  world  to 
come  (Aram:  Alma  deathey=o/'r/»z  hab- 
ba).  Comi).  Ar.  13  6,  and  Midr.  on  Ps. 
Ixxxi.  2  (3  in  A.V.),  ed.  WavKh.  p.  63  a, 
where  the  harp  of  the  Sanctuary  is  de- 
scribed as  of  seven  strings  (according  to 
Ps.  cxix.  164);  in  the  days  of  the  Messiah 
as  of  eight  strings  (according  to  the  in- 
scription of  Ps.  xii.);  and  in  the  world  to 
come  (here  Athid  hibho)  as  of  ten 
sti'ings  (according  to  Ps.  xcii.  3).  The 
reftn-ences  of  Gfrbrer  (Jahrh.  d.  Heils, 
vol.  ii.  )).  213)  contain,  as  not  unfre- 
{piently,  mistakes.  I  may  here  say  that 
FJienferdius  carries  the  argument  about 
tlie  Olrt7n  habba,  as  distinguished  from 
the  days  of  the  Messiah,  beyond  what  I 
believe  to  be  established.  See  his  Dis- 
sertation in  Me)ische)>,  Nov.  Test.  pp. 
1116  Ac. 

'  It  is  difficult  to  conceive,  how  the 
idea  of  the  identity  of  the  Kingdom 
of  God  with  the  Gliurch  could  have  origi- 
nated.    Such   parables   as  those  about 


the  Sower,  and  about  the  Net  (St.  Matt, 
xiii.  3-9;  47,  48),  and  such  admonitions 
as  those  of  Christ  to  His  disciples  in  St. 
Matt.  xix.  12;  vi.  33;  and  vi.  10,  are  ut- 
terly inconsistent  with  it. 

^  The  passage  which  seems  to  me  most 
fully  to  explain  the  import  of  baptism,  in 
its  subjective  bearing,  is  1  Peter,  iii.  21, 
which  I  would  thus  render :  '  which  (water) 
also,  as  the  antitype,  nowsavesyou,  n-en 
baptism;  not  the  putting  away  of  the 
filth  of  the  flesh,  but  the  inquiry  (the 
searching,  -perhaps  the  entreaty),  for  a 
good  conscience  towards  God.  through 
the  resurrection  of  Christ.'  It  is  in  this 
sense  that  baiitism  is  designated  in  Tit. 
iii.  5,  as  the  'washing,'  or  'bath  of  re- 
generation,' the  baptized  person  step- 
ping out  of  the  waters  of  Ijaptism  with 
this  openly  spoken  new  search  after  a 
good  conscience  towards  God;  and  in 
this  sense  also  that  bai)tism — not  the  act 
of  baptizing,  nor  yet  that  of  being  l)ap- 
tized — saves  us,  but  this  through  the  Re- 
surrection of  Christ.  And  this  leads  us 
up  to  the  objective  aspect  of  baptism. 
This  consists  in  the  promise  and  the  gift 
on  the  part  of  the  Risen  Saviour.  Who,  by 
and  with  His  Holy  Spirit,  is  ever  present 
with  his  Church.  These  renuu'ks  leave, 
of  course,  aside  the  question  of  Infant- 
Baptism,  which  rests  on  another  and,  in 
my  view  most  solid  basis. 


2t0  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

BOOK      symbol)  and  tlio  Spirit,  he  cannot  really  enter  into  tlie  fellowship    of 
n         that  Kingdom. 

'^ — v— ^  In  fart,  an  analysis  of  119  passages  in  the  New  Testament  where 
the  expression  '  Kingdom '  occurs,  shows  that  it  means  the  o'ule  of 
God]  ^  which  was  manifested  in  and  through  Christ;  ^  is  apparent  in 
'  tJie  Church)  *  gradually  develops  amidst  hindrances;^  is  triumpliant 
at  the  second  coming  of  Christ'"  ('the  end');  and,  finally,  2Je''fected  in 
the  world  to  come.^  Thus  viewed,  the  announcement  of  John  of  the 
near  Advent  of  this  Kingdom  had  deepest  meaning,  although,  as  so 
often  in  the  case  of  prophetism,  the  stages  intervening  between  the 
Advent  of  the  Christ  and  the  triumph  of  that  Kingdom  seem  to  have 
been  hidden  from  the  preacher.  He  came  to  call  Israel  to  submit  to 
the  Reign  of  God,  about  to  be  manifested  in  Christ.  Hence,  on  the 
one  hand,  he  called  them  to  repentance — a  '■  change  of  mind  ' — with 
all  that  this  implied;  and,  on  tlie  other,  pointed  them  to  the  Christ, 
in  the  exaltation  of  His  Person  and  Office.  Or  rather,  the  two  com- 
bined might  be  summed  up  in  the  call:  'Change  your  mind' — repent, 
wliich  implies,  not  only  a  turning  from  the  past,  but  a  turning  to  the 
Christ  in  newness  of  mind.''  And  thus  the  symbolic  action  by  which 
this  ]n'eaching  was  accompanied  might  be  designated  '  the  baptism  of 
repentance.' 

Tlie  account  given  by  St.  Luke  bears,  on  the  face  of  it,  that  it  was 

aiii.  18  a  summary,  not  only  of  the  first,  but  of  all  John's  preaching.''  The 
very  presence  of  his  hearers  at  this  call  to,  and  l)aptism  of,  repentance, 
gave  point  to    his    words.     Did   they   who,  notwithstanding   their 

1  111   tliis  view  the  expression  occurs  sages:  St.  Matt.  xi.  12;  xiii.  11,  19,  24, 

thirty-four  times,  viz. :.  St.   Matt.  vi.  33 ;  31,  33,  44,  45,  47,  .52  ;  xviii.  23 ;  xx.  1 ;  xxii. 

xii.  28;    xiii.   38;  xix.   24;  xxi.  31;    St.  2;  xxv.  1,  14;  St.   Marie  iv.  11,  26,  30; 

Mark  i.  14;  x.    15,   23,  24,   25;  xii.  34;  St.   Luke  viii.  10;  ix.   62;  xiii.    18,   20; 

St.  Luke  i.  33;  iv.  43;  ix.   11;  x.  9,  11;  Acts  i.  3;  Rev.  i.  9. 
xi.  20;  xii.  31;  xvii.  20,  21;  xviii.  17,  24,  ^  As  in  the  followiiis;  twelve  passages: 

25,  29;  St.  John  iii.   3;  Acts  i.  3;  viii.  St.  Mark  xvi.  28;  St.  Mark  ix.  1;  xv."43; 

12;  XX.   25;  xxviii.   31;    Rom.   xiv.   17;  St.  Luke  ix.  27;  xix.  11;  xxi.  31;  xxii. 

1  Cor.  iv.  20;  Col.  iv.  11;  1  Tliess.  ii.  12;  16,  18;  Acts  i.  3;  2  Tim.  iv.  1;  Heb.  xii. 

Rev.  i.  9.  28;  Rev.  i.  9. 

^  As  in  the  following  seventeen  pas-         "  As  in  the  following  thirty-one  i)as- 

sages,  viz.:  St.   Matt.  iii.   2;  iv.   17,  23;  sages:  St.  Matt.  v.    19,  20;  vii.  21;  viii. 

V.  3,    10;  ix.   35;  x.  7;  St.   Mark  i.  15;  11;  xiii.  43;  xviii.  3;  xxv.  34;  xxvi.  29; 

xi.  10;  St.  Luke  viii.  1;  ix.  2;  xvi.  16;  St.  Mark  ix.  47;  x.  14;  xiv.  25;  St  Luke 

xix.  12,   15;  Acts  i.  3;  xxviii.  23;  Rev.  vi.  20;  xii.  32;  xiii.  2s,  29;  xiv.  15;  xviii. 

1.  9.  16;  xxii.  29;  Acts   i.   3;  xiv.  22;   1  Cor. 

■^  As  in  the  following  eleven  passages:  vi.  9,  10;  xv.  24,  50;  Gal.  v.  21;  Eph.  v. 

St.  Matt.  xi.  11;  xiii.  41;  xvi.  19;  xviii.  5;  2  Thess.  i.  5;  St.  James  ii.  5;  2  Peter 

1;  xxi.  43;  xxiii.  13;  St.   Luke  vii.  28;  i.  11;  Rev.  i.  9;  xii.  10. 
St.  John  iii.  5;  Acts  i.  3;  Col.  i.  13;  Rev.  "  The     term     '  repentance  '     includes 

i.  9.  faith  ia  Christ,  as  in  St.  Luke  xxiv.  47; 

*  As  in  the  following  twenty-four  pas-  Acts  v.  31. 


WE   HAVE   ABRAHAM   TO   OUR   FATHER.' 


271 


sins,'  lived  in  such  security  of  carelessness  and  self-rigliteousness,  really 
understand  and  fear  the  final  consequences  of  resistance  to  the  coming- 
'  Kingdom '  ?  If  so,  theirs  must  be  a  repentance  not  only  in  ])i"o- 
fession,  but  of  heart  and  mind,  such  as  would  yield  fruit,  both  good 
and  visible.  Or  else  did  they  imagine  that,  according  to  the  common 
notion  of  the  time,  the  vials  of  Avrath  were  to  be  poured  out  only 
on  the  Gentiles,^  while  they,  as  Abraham's  children,  were  sure  of 
escape— in  the  words  of  the  Talmud,  that' 'the  night '  (Is.  xxi. 
12)  was  *  only  to  the  nations  of  the  world,  but  the  morning  to 
Israel '  ?  '^ 

For,  no  principle  was  more  fully  established  in  the  popular  convic- 
tion, than  that  all  Israel  had  })art  in  the  world  to  come  (Sanh.x.  1), 
and  this,  specifically,  because  of  their  connection  with  Abraham. 
This  appears  not  only  from  the  New  Testament,''  from  Philo,  and 
Josephus,  but  from  many  Rabbinic  passages.  '  The  merits  of  the 
Fathers,'  is  one  of  the  commonest  phrases  in  the  mouth  of  the  Rabbis.* 
Abraham  was  represented  as  sitting  at  the  gate  of  Gehenna,  to  deliver 
any  Israelite*  who  otherwise  might  have  been  consigned  to  its  terrors." 
In  fact,  by  their  descent  from  Abraham,  all  the  children  of  Israel  were 
nobles,*^  infinitely  higher  than  any  proselytes.  '  What,'  exclaims  the 
Talmud,  '  shall  the  born  Israelite  stand  upon  the  earth,  and  the 
proselyte  be  in  heaven?'^  In  fact,  the  ships  on  the  sea  were  pre- 
served through  the  merit  of  Abraham-  the  rain  descended  on  account 
of  if  For  his  sake  alone  had  Moses  been  allowed  to  ascend  into 
heaven,  and  to  receive  the  Law;  for  his  sake  the  sin  of  the  golden 
calf  had  been  forgiven;^  his  righteousness  had  on  many  occasions 
been  the  support  of  Israel's  cause;''  Daniel  had  been  heard  for  the 
sake  of  Abraham;'  nay,  his  merit  availed  even  for  the  wicked.''^  In 
its  extravagance  the  Midrash  thus  apostrophises  Abraham:  'If  thy 


CHAP 
XI 


1  I  cannot,  with  Schbttgen  and  others, 
regard  the  expression  '  generation  of  vi- 
pers'  as  an  allusion  to  the  tilthy  legend 
about  the  children  of  Eve  and  the  ser- 
pent, but  believe  that  it  refers  to  such 
passages  as  Ps.  Iviii.  4. 

'■^  In  proof  that  such  was  the  common 
view,  I  shall  here  refer  to  only  a  few 
passages,  and  these  exclusively  from  the 
Targumini :  Jer.  Targ.  on  Gen.  xlix.  1 1 ; 
Targ.  on  Is.  xi.  4;  Targ.  on  Amos  ix.  11 ; 
Targ.  on  Nah.  i.  6 ;  on  Zech.  x.  3,  4.  See 
also  Ab.  Z.  2  5,  Yalkut  i.  p.  64  a;  also 
56  b  (where  it  is  shown  how  i)lagues 
exactly  corresponding  to  those  of  Egypt 


were  to  come  upon  Rome). 

•^  'Everything  comes  to  Israel  on  ac- 
count of  the  merits  of  the  fathers '  (Siphre 
on  Deut.  p.  108  b).  In  the  same  category 
we  place  the  extraordinary  attempts  to 
show  that  the  sins  of  Biblical  jjersonages 
were  not  sins  at  all,  as  in  Shabb.  55  />,  and 
the  idea  of  Israel's  merits  as  works  of 
supererogation  (as  in  Baba  B.  10  a). 

*  I  will  not  mention  the  profane  device 
by  which  apostate  and  wicked  Jews  are  at 
that  time  to  be  converted  into  non-Jews. 

*  Professor  Wilusche  quotes  an  inapt 
passage  from  Shabb.  89  b,  but  ignores,  or 
is  ignorant  of,  the  evidence  above  given. 


°  Jer.  Taan. 
64  a 


''  St.  John 
viii.  33, 39, 
53 


•^Ber.  K.  48; 
com  p. 
Midr.  on 
Ps.  yi   1: 
Pirk    d.  R. 
Ellew.  e.  •.:•.» : 
Sheni.  K.  19 
Yalkut  i.  \>. 
23  6 

^BabaMez. 
vu.  1 ;  Baba 
K.  91  a 

<■  Jer.  Chag. 
76  a 

fBer  E.  39 

?  Shem  R. 
a 

'•  Vas-ylkra 
K.  36 

>  Ber.  7  6 
k  Shabb. 
55  a;  com  p. 
Beer,  Leben 
Abr.  p.  88 


272 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOOK 
H 


"  Ber.  R.  ed. 
Warsh. 
p.  80  h,  par. 
44 

''  Perhaps 
with  refer- 
ence to  Is. 
ii.  1,  2 


■•  For  ex. 
•Jer.  Taan. 
64  a 


cliildron  were  even  (morally)  dead  liodies,  without  bloodvessels  or 
bones,  thy  merit  would  avail  for  them ! ' '' 

But  if  such  had  been  the  inner  thoughts  of  his  hearers,  John 
warned  them,  that  God  was  able  of  those  stones  that  strewed  the 
river-bank  to  raise  up  children  unto  Abraham;"'  or,  reverting  to  his 
former  illustration  of  '  fruits  meet  for  repentance,'  that  the  i^roclama- 
tion  of  the  Kingdom  was,  at  the  same  time,  the  laying  of  the  axe  to 
the  root  of  every  tree  that  bore  not  fruit.  Then  making  application 
of  it,  in  answer  to  the  specific  inquiry  of  various  classes,  the  preacher 
gave  them  such  practical  advice  as  applied  to  the  well-known  sins  of 
their  past;  ^  yet  in  this  also  not  going  beyond  the  merely  negative, 
or  preparatory  element  of  'repentance.'  The  positive,  and  all-im- 
portant aspect  of  it,  was  to  be  presented  by  the  Christ.  It  was  only 
natural  that  the  hearers  wondered  whether  John  himself  was  the 
Christ,  since  he  thus  urged  repentance.  For  this  was  so  closely  con- 
nected in  their  thoughts  with  the  Advent  of  the  Messiah,  that  it  was 
said,  '  If  Israel  repented  but  one  day,  the  Son  of  David  would  im- 
mediately come.'"  But  here  John  pointed  them  to  the  difterence 
])etween  himself  and  his  work,  and  the  Person  and  Mission  of  the 
Christ.  In  deepest  reverence  he  declared  himself  not  worthy  to  do 
Him  the  service  of  a  slave  or  of  a  disciple.^  His  Baptism  would  not 
be  of  preparatory  repentance  and  with  water,  but  the  Divine  Baptism 
in*  the  Holy  Spirit  and  fire  ^ — in  the  Spirit  Who  sanctified,  and  the 
Divine  Light  which   purified,^  and  so  eflectively  qualified  for  the 


1  Lightfoot  aptly  points  out  a  play  on 
the  words  '  chiUlreu  '  —  bnnim  —  and 
'stones' — abhanim.  Both  words  are 
derived  from  bana,  to  build,  which  is 
al.-^o  used  by  the  Rabbis  in  a  moral 
sense  like  our  own  '  upbuildino;,' and  in 
that  of  the  ffift  or  adoption  of  children.  ■ 
it  is  not  necessary,  indeed  almost  detracts 
from  the  <reneral  impression,  to  see  in 
the  stones  an  allusion  to  the  Gentiles. 

■^  Thus  the  view  that  charity  delivered 
from  Gehenna  was  very  commonly  en- 
tertained (see,  for  example.  Baba  B. 
10  a).  Similarly,  it  was  the  main  charge 
against  the  publicaus  that  they  exacted 
more  than  their  due  (see,  for  example, 
Baba  K.  11.3^^).  The  Greek  oipajvi ov,  or 
wage  of  the  soldiers,  has  its  Rabbinic 
eciuivalent  of  Afsinyn  (a  similar  word 
also  in  the  Syriac). 

^  Volkmar  is  mistaken  in  regarding 
this  as  the  duty  of  the  house-porter 
towards  arriving  guests.  It  is  exi)ressly 
mentioned  as  one  of  the  characteristic 


duties  of  slaves  in  Pes.  4  a ;  Jer  Kidd. 
i.  3 ;  Kidd.  22  b.  In  Kethub.  96  n  it  is 
described  as  also  the  duty  of  a  disciiile 
towards  his  teacher.  In  Mechilta  on  Ex. 
xxi.  2  (ed.  Weiss,  p.  S2  a)  it  is  qualified 
as  only  lawful  for  a  teacher  so  to  employ 
his  discii)le,  while,  lastly,  in  Pesiqta  x. 
it  is  described  as  the  common  practice. 

*  Godet  aptly  calls  attention  to  the 
use  of  the  prei)osition  in  here,  while  as 
regards  the  baptism  of  water  no  prepo- 
sition is  used,  as  denoting  merely  an 
instrumentality. 

^  The  same  writer  points  out  that  the 
want  of  the  preposition  before  'fire' 
shows  that  it  cannot  refer  to  the  fire  of 
judgment,  but  must  be  a  further  enlarge- 
ment of  the  word  'Spirit.'  Probably  it 
denotes  the  negative  or  purgative  effect 
of  this  baptism,  as  the  word  '  holy ' 
indicates  its  positive  and  sanctifying 
eflfect. 

*  The  expression  '  baptism  of  fire ' 
was  certainly  not  unknown  to  the  Jews. 


THE   BAPTISM   OF   JOHN.  273 

'  Kingdom.'    Andthore  was  still  another  contrast.    Jolm'swasbutprc-     CHAP, 
paring  work,  the  Christ's  that  of  final  decision;  after  it  came  the        ^l 
harvest.    His  was  the  harvest,  and  His  the  garner ;  His  also  the  fan,  with  " — ~y — -^ 
which  He  would  sift  the  wlieat  from  the  straw  and  chaff — the  one  to 
be  garnered,  the  other  burned  with  fire  uncxtinguislied  and  inextin- 
guisha])le.^     Thus  early  in  the  history  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  was  it 
indicated,  that  alike  that  which  would  prove  useless  straw  and  the 
good  corn  were  inseparably  connected  in  God's  harvest-field  till  the 
reaping  time ;  that  both  belonged  to  Him ;  and  that  the  final  separa- 
tion would  only  come  at  the  last,  and  by  His  own  Hand. 

What  John  preached,  that  he  also  symbolised  by  a  rite  which, 
though  not  in  itself,  yet  in  its  application,  was  wiiolly  new.  Hitherto 
the  Law  had  it,  that  those  who  had  contracted  Levitical  defilement 
were  to  immerse  before  oflering  sacrifice.  Again,  it  was  prescribed 
that  such  Gentiles  as  became  'proselytes  of  righteousness,'  or  'pro- 
selytes of  the  Covenant '  [Gerey  hatstsedeq  or  Gerey  liabherith),  were  to 
be  admitted  to  full  participation  in  the  privileges  of  Israel  by  the 
threefold  rites  of  circumcision,  baptism,^  and  sacrifice — the  immersion 
being,  as  it  were,  the  acknowledgment  and  symbolic  removal  of 
moral  defilement,  corresponding  to  that  of  Levitical  uncleanncss.  But 
never  before  had  it  been  proposed  that  Israel  should  undergo  a 
'  baptism  of  repentance, '  although  there  are  indications  of  a  deeper 
insight  into  the  meaning  of  Levitical  baptisms.*     Was  it  intended, 

In  Sauh.  39  a  (last  lines)  we  read  of  an  passages,  and  not   Telilten  (Mei/er),  nor 

immersion  of  God  in  tire,  based  on  Is.  even  as  Professor  Delitzsch  renders  it  in 

Ixvi.    15.     An  immersion  or  baptism  of  his  Hebrew  N.T. :  J/r;/,s\    The  three  terms 

lire  is  proved    from  Numb.    xxxi.    23.  are,  however,  combined   in  a  curiously 

More  apt,  perhaps,  as  illustration  is  the  illustrative  parable  (Ber.  R.  83),  referring 

statement,  Jer.  Sot.  22  d,  that  the  Torah  to  the  destruction  of  Rome  and  the  pres-  ■ 

(the  Law)  its  parchment  was  white  fire,  ervatiou  of  Israel,  when  the  gi-ain  refers 

the  writing  black  tire,  itself  fire  mixed  the  straw,   stubble,   and  chart',  in  their 

with  fire,  hewn  out  of  fire,  and  given  by  dispute  for  whose  sake  the  field  existed, 

fire,  according  to  Deut.  xxxiii.  2.  to  tlie  time  when  the  owner  would  gather 

1  This  is  the  meaning  of  da/Searu?.  the  corn   into  his   barn,    but  burn  the 

The  word  occurs  only  in  St.  Matt.  iii.  12;  straw,  stubble,  and  chaft". 
St.  Luke  iii.  17 ;  St.  Mark  ix.  43,  45  (?),  '^  For  a  full  discussion  of  the  question 

but  frequently  in  the  classics.  The  ques-  of  the  baptism  of  proselytes,  see  Appen- 

tion  of  '  eternal  punishment '  will  be  dis-  dix  XII. 

cussed  in  another  place.     The  simile  of  ^  The  following  very  significant  i)as- 

the  fan  and  the  garner  is  derived   from  sage  may  here  be  quoted :  'A  man  who  is 

the  Eastern  practice  of  threshing  out  the  guilty  of  sin,  and  makes  confession,  and 

corn  in  the  open  by  means  of  oxen,  after  does  not  turn    from   it.  to  whom  is  he 

which,  what  of  the  straw  had  been  tram-  like?    To  a  man  who  has  in  his  hand  a 

1)1(m1  under  foot  (not  merely  the  chaff,  as  defiling  reptile,  who,  even  if  he  immerses 

in  the  A.V.)  was  burned.     This  use  of  in  all  the  waters  of  tlie  Avorld.   his  bap- 

the  straw  for  tire  is  referred  to  in  the  tism  avails  him  nothing  ;  but    let  him 

Mishnah,  as  in  Shabb.  iii.  1 ;  Par.  iv.  3.  cast  it  from  his  hand,  and  if  he  immerses 

But  in  tliat  case  the  Hebrew  equivalent  in  only  forty  seah  of  water,  immediately 

for  it  is  rp   (Qash) — as    in    the    above  his  bai)tism  avails  him,'     On  the  same 


274 


FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 


BOO-K 
II 


» Comp. 
(ien.  XXXV. 


'•  Ex.  six. 
10,  14 


that  the  hearers  of  John  sliouhl  ^ive  this  as  evidence  of  their  re- 
pentance, that,  like  i)ersons  defiled,  they  sought  purification,  and,  like 
strangers,  tliey  sought  admission  among  the  people  who  took  on  them- 
selves the  Rule  of  God?  These  two  ideas  would,  indeed,  have  made 
it  truly  a  '  baptism  of  repentance.'  But  it  seems  difficult  to  suppose, 
that  the  people  would  have  been  prepared  for  such  admissions;  or,  at 
least,  that  there  should  have  been  no  record  of  the  mode  in  which  a 
change  so  deeply  spiritual  w^as  brought  about.  May  it  not  rather 
have  been  that  as,  when  the  first  Covenant  was  made,  Moses  was 
directed  to  prepare  Israel  l)y  symbolic  baptism  of  their  persons  *  and 
their  garments,''  so  the  initiation  of  the  new  Covenant,  by  which  the 
people  were  to  enter  into  the  Kingdom  of  God,  was  preceded  by 
another  general  symbolic  baptism  of  those  who  would  be  the  true 
Israel,  and  receive,  or  take  on  themselves,  the  Law  from  God?^  In 
that  case  the  rite  would  have  acquii-ed  not  only  a  new  significance, 
but  be  deeply  and  truly  the  answer  to  John's  call.  In  such  case  also, 
no  special  explanation  would  have  been  needed  on  the  part  of  the 
Baptist,  nor  yet  such  spiritual  insiglit  on  that  of  the  people  as  w^e  can 
scarcely  suppose  them  to  have  possessed  at  that  stage.  Lastly,  in 
that  case  nothing  could  have  been  more  suitable,  nor  more  solemn, 
than  Israel  in  waiting  for  the  Messiah  and  the  Rule  of  God,  preparing 
as  their  fathers  had  done  at  the  foot  of  Mount  Sinai. ^ 


paije  of  the  Talmud  there  are  some  very 
apt  and  beautiful  remarks  on  the  subject 
of  repentance  (Taaii.  16  a,  towards  the 
end). 

1  It  is  remarkable,  that  Maimonides 
traces  even  the  practice  of  baptizing 
proselytes  to  Ex.  xix.  10,  14  (Hilc. 
Issiirey  Biah  xiii.  3;  Yad  haCh.  vol.  ii.  \). 
142  h).  He  also  gives  reasons  for  the 
'baptism  '  of  Israel  before  entering  into 
covenant  with  God.  In  Kerith,  9  « 
'  the  ba])tism '  of  Israel  is  proved  from 
Ex.  xxiv.  5,  since  every  sprinkling  of 
blood  was  supposed  to  be  preceded  by 
immersion.     In  Siphre  on  Numb,    (ed. 


Weiss,  p.  30  b)  we  are  also  distinctly 
told  of  'baptism'  as  one  of  the  three 
things  by  which  Israel  was  admitted  into 
the  Covenant. 

2  This  may  help  us,  even  at  this  stage, 
to  understand  why  our  Lord,  in  the  ful- 
filment of  all  righteousness,  submitted 
to  baptism.  It  seems  also  to  exi^lain 
why,  after  the  coming  of  Clu-ist,  the  bap- 
tism of  .lohn  was  alike  unavailing  and 
even  meaningless  (Acts  xix.  3-5).  Lastly, 
it  also  shows  how  he  that  is  least  in  the 
Kingdom  of  God  is  really  greater  than 
John  himself  (St.  Luke  vii.  28). 


THE   CALL   TO    'THE   KINGDOM.'  275 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE   BAPTISM   OF   JESUS:    ITS   HIGHER   MEANING. 
(St.  Matt.  iii.  13-17;  St.  Mark  i.  7-11;  St.  Luke  iii.  21-28;  St.  John  i.  32-34.) 

The  more  wo  think  of  it,  the  better  do  we  seem  to  understand  how  that     CHAP. 
'  Voice  crying  in  the  wilderness :  Repent !  for  the  Kingdom  of  Ilcavcn        Xll 
is  at  hanil, '  awakened  echoes  throughout  the  land,  and  brought  from  '^—-^^ — 
city,  village,  and  hamlet  strangest  hearers.     For  once,  every  distinc- 
tion was  levelled.     Pharisee  and    Sadducee,  outcast    pul)lican  and 
semi-heathen  soldier,  met  here  as  on  common  ground.     Their   bond 
of  union  was  the  common  '  hope  of  Israel ' — the  only  hope  that  re- 
mained: that  of  '  the  Kingdom.'     The  long  winter  of  disappointment 
had  not  destroyed,  nor  the   storms  of  suffering  swept  away,  nor  yet 
could  any  plant  of  spurious  growth  overshadow,  what  had  struck  its 
roots  so  deep  in  the  soil  of  Israel's  heart. 

That  Kingdom  had  been  the  last  word  of  the  Old  Testament.  As 
the  thoughtful  Israelite,  whether  Eastern  or  Western,^  viewed  even 
the  central  part  of  his  worship  in  sacrifices,  and  remembered  that  his 
own  Scriptures  had  spoken  of  them  in  terms  which  pointed  to  some- 
thing l)eyon(l  their  offering,  ■' he  must  have  felt  that  '  the  blood  oflndls 
and  of  goats,  and  the  ashes  of  an  heifer  sprinkling  the  unclean, '  could 

1  It  may  be  said  that  the  fundamental  and  in  view  of  the  cessation  of  sacrifices 

tendency  of  Rabbinism  was  anti-sacriti-  in  tlie  '  Athid-labho  '  (Vay,  u.  s. ;  Tanch. 

cial,  as  regarded  the  value  of  sacrifices  on  Par.  Shemini).    Soon,  prayer  or  study 

in  commending  the  ofi'erer  to  God.  After  were  put  even    above    sacrifices    (Ber. 

the  destruction  of  the  Temple  it  was,  of  32  b;  Men.  110  a),  and  an  isolated  teacher 

course,  the  task  of  Rabbinism  to  show  went  so  far  as  to  regard  the  introduc- 

that  sacrifices  had  no  intrinsic  import-  tion  of  sacrificial  worship  as  merely  in- 

ance,  and  that  their  place  was  taken  by  tended  to  preserve  Israel  from  conform- 

prayer,  i)enitence,  and  good  works.     So  ing  to  heathen  worship  (Vayyikra  R.  22, 

agauist  objoctors  on  the  ground  of  Jer.  u.  s.  p.  34  i'^,  close).     On  the  otlier  hand, 

xxxiii.  18 — but  see  tlie  answer  in  Yalkut  individuals  seemed  to  have  ofi'ered  sac- 

on  the  i)assage  (vol.  ii.  p.  67  a,  towards  rifices  even  after  the  destruction  of  the 

the    end)  dogmatically  (Bab.   B.    10  b;  Temple  (Eduy.  viii.  6;  Mechilta  on  Ex. 

Vayyikra  R.  7,  ed.  Wars/i.  vol.    iii.  p.  xviii.  27,  ed.  Weiss,  \).  08  b). 
12  a):  'he  that  doeth  repentance,  it  is  -  Comp.  1   Sam.   xv.  22;    Ps.  xl.  6-8; 

imputed  to  him  as  if  he  went  up  to  Jeru-  li.  7,   17;  Is.   i.   11-13;  Jer.  vii.   22,23; 

salem,  built  the  Temi^le  and   altar,  and  Amos  v.   21,  22;  Ecclus.    vii.  9;  xxxiv. 

wrought  all  the  sacrifices  in  the  Law';  18,  10;  xxxv.  1,  7. 


276  FllOM   IJETIILEIIEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK  only  'sanctify to  tlic  purity iug  of  the  flesh;'  that,  indeed,  tlie  whole 
II  body  of  ceremonial  and  ritual  ordinances  '  could  not  make  him  that 
■^-^■^f^-^  (lid  the  service  perfect  as  pertaining  to  the  conscience. '  They  were  only 
'  the  shadow  of  good  things  to  come; '  of  '  a  new  '  and  '  better  cove- 
nant, established  upon  better  promises.' '  It  was  otherwise  with  the 
thought  of  the  Kingdom.  Each  successive  link  in  the  chain  of  pro- 
phecy bound  Israel  anew  to  this  hope,  and  each  seemed  only  more 
firmly  welded  than  the  other.  And  when  the  voice  of  prophecy  had 
ceased,  the  sweetness  of  its  melody  still  held  the  people  spell-bound,  even 
when  broken  in  the  wild  fantasies  of  Apocalyptic  literature.  Yet  that 
'  root  of  Jesse,'  whence  this  Kingdom  was  to  spring,  was  buried  deep 
under  ground,  as  the  remains  of  ancient  Jerusalem  are  now  under 
the  desolations  of  nmny  generations.  Egyptian,  Syrian,  Greek,  and 
Roman  had  trodden  it  under  foot;  the  Maccabees  had  come  and  gone, 
and  it  was  not  in  them;  the  Herodian  kingdom  had  risen  and  fallen; 
Pharisaism,  with  its  learning,  had  overshadowed  thoughts  of  the 
priesthood  andof  prophetism;  but  the  hope  of  that  Davidic  Kingdom, 
of  which  there  was  not  a  single  trace  orrepresentativ^e  left,  was  even 
stronger  than  before.  So  closely  has  it  been  intertwined  with  the 
very  life  of  the  nation,  that,  to  all  believing  Israelites,  this  hope  has 
through  the  long  night  of  ages,  been  like  that  eternal  lamp  which 
burns  in  the  darkness  of  the  Synagogue,  in  front  of  the  heavy  veil 
that  shrines  the  Sanctuary,  which  holds  and  conceals  the  precious  rolls 
of  the  Law  and  the  Prophets. 

This  great  expectancy  would  be  strung  to  utmost  tension  during 
the  pressure  of  outward  circumstances  more  hopeless  than  any 
hitherto  experienced.  Witness  here  the  ready  credence  which  im- 
postors found,  whose  promises  and  schemes  were  of  the  wildest 
character;  witness  the  repeated  attempts  at  risings,  which  oidy 
despair  could  have  prompted;  witness,  also,  the  last  terrible  war 
against  Rome,  and,  despite  the  horrors  of  its  end,  the  rebellion  of 
Bar-Kokhabh,  the  false  Messiah.  And  now  the  cry  had  been  suddenly 
raised:  '  The  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand! '  It  was  heard  in  the 
wilderness  of  Judaea,  within  a  few  hours'  distance  from  Jerusalem. 
No  wonder  Pharisee  and  Sadducee  flocked  to  the  spot.  How  many 
of  them  came  to  inquire,  how  many  remained  to  be  baptized,  or  how 
many  went  away  disappointed  in  their  hopes  of  'the  Kingdom,'  we 
know  not.^     But  they  would  not  see  anything  in  the  messenger  that 

1  Ilebr.    ix.   13,    9;  x.   1;  viii.   6,   13.       hriefes,  1867). 
On  this  subject  we  refer  to  tlie  classical  ■^  Ancient  commentators  supposed  that 

worlv  of /i'ie/<??i  (Lehrbe,n"ri tides  Ilebriler-       they  came  from  liostile  motives;     later 


THE   APPEARANCE   OF   THE   BAPTIST.  277 

could  have  given  their  expectations  a  rude  shock.  His  was  not  a  call  CHAP. 
to  armed  resistance,  but  to  rei)entauce,  such  as  all  knew  and  felt  must  XH 
l)recede  the  Kingdom.  The  hojjc  which  he  held  out  was  not  of  *— ^r — ' 
earthly  possessions,  but  of  purity.  There  was  nothing  negative  or 
controversial  in  what  he  spoke;  nothing  to  excite  prejudice  or  passion. 
His  appearance  would  connnand  respect,  and  his  character  was  in 
accordance  with  his  appearance.  Not  rich  nor  yet  IMiarisaic  garb 
with  wide  7^s/^.s/f//,M)()iind  with  many-coloured  or  even  priestly  girdle, 
out  the  old  prophet's  poor  raiment  held  in  by  a  leathern  girdle.  Not 
luxurious  life,  but  one  of  meanest  fare.^  And  then,  all  in  tlie  man  was 
true  and  real.  ^  Not  a  reed  shaken  l)y  the  wind, '  but  unbentlingly  firm 
in  deep  and  settled  conviction;  not  ambitious  nor  self-seeking,  l)ut 
most  humble  in  his  self-estimate,  discarding  all  claim  ])ut  that  of 
lowliest  service,  and  pointing  away  from  himself  to  Him  Who  was  to 
come,  and  Whom  as  3'et  he  did  not  even  know.  Above  all,  there  was 
the  deepest  earnestness,  the  most  utter  disregard  of  nmn,  the  most 
firm  belief  in  what  he  announced.  For  himself  he  sought  nothing; 
for  them  he  had  only  one  absorbing  thought:  The  Kingdom  was  at 
liaud,  the  King  was  coming — let  them  prepare! 

Such  entire  absorption  in  his  mission,  which  leaves  us  in  ignorance 
of  even  the  details  of  his  later  activity,  must  have  given  force  to  his 
message.^   And  still  the  voice,  everywhere  proclaiming  the  samemes- 

writers  that  curiosity  i)ronii)te(l  tliem.  then  eleven  times  witli  a  double  knot 
Neither  of  these  views  is  admissible,  nor  (11  numerically  =  "*:  )  and  lastly,  thir- 
does  St.  Luke  vii.  30  implj',  that  all  the  teen  fanes  (13  numerically  =  ~nN;  or,  al- 
Pliarisees  who  come  to  him  rejected  his  together  "ns  "'"",  Je/toni/i  One).  Auain, 
baptism.  it  is  pointed  out  that  as  Tsitsith  is 
1  Comp.  St.  Matt,  xxiii.  5.  T\\e  Tsitsith  numerically  equal  to  600  (  n'^'i'l  this, 
{plural,  Tsitsii/ot/t),  or  borders  (corners,  with  the  eiii;ht  threads  and  live  knots, 
'wings')  of  the  garments,  or  rather  the  gives  the  number  (513,  which  is  that  of 
fringes  fastened  to  them.  The  observ-  the  Commandments.  At  present  the 
ance  was  based  on  Numb.  xv.  38-41,  Tsitsith  are  worn  as  a  special  under- 
and  tlie  Jewish  practice  of  it  is  indicated  garment  (the  r^'Z12  r2";N)  or  on  the 
not  only  in  the  N.T.  (u.  s.,  comp.  also  Tallith  or  prayer-mantle,  but  anciently 
St.  Matt.  ix.  20;  xiv.  36)  but  in  the  Tar-  they  seem  to  have  been  worn  on  the 
gumini  on  Numb.  xv.  3S,  3!)  (comp.  also  outer  garment  itself.  In  Bemidbar  R. 
Targ.  Pseudo-Jon.  on  Numb.  xvi.  1,  2,  17.  end  (ed.  Warsh,  vol.  iv.  p.  69  a),  the 
where  the  peculiar  colour  of  the  Tsitsith  blue  is  represented  as  emblematic  of  the 
is  represented  as  the  cause  of  the  con-  sky,  and  the  latter  as  of  the  throne  of 
troversy  between  Moses  and  Korah.  But  God  (Ex.  xxiv.  10).  Hence  to  look  upon 
see  the  version  of  this  story  in  Jer.  Sanh.  the  Tsitsith  was  like  looking  at  the  throne 
X.  p.  27 'Z,  end).  The  Tls^y^/Z/Mvere  orig-  of  glory  (.ScZ/wrrr  is  mistaken  in  sup- 
inally  directed  to  be  of  white  threads,  iiosing  that  the  tractate  Tsitsitli  in  the 
with  one  thread  of  deep  blue  in  eacli  Septem  Libri  Talmud,  par.  pji.  22.  23.  con- 
fringe.  According  to  tradition,  each  of  tains  much  information  on  tlie  subject), 
these  white  fringes  is  to  consist  of  -  Such  certainly  was  John  the  Bap- 
eight  threads,  one  of  them  wound  round  tist's.  Some  locusts  were  lawful  to  be 
the  others:  first,  seven  times  with  a  eaten.  Lev.  xi.  22.  Comj).  Terum.  59  «; 
double  knot:  then  eight  times  with  a  and,  on  the  various  species.  Chull.  65. 
double  knot  (7  -|-  8   numerically^  "*);  ^  Deeply  as  we  appreciate  the  beaut.y 


278 


FIJOM   15ET1ILEI1EM   TO   JORDAN. 


V>8 


BOOK      sage,  travelled  upward,  along  the  winding  Jordan  which  cleft  the  land 
II         of  promise.     It  was  probably  the  autumn  of  the  year  779  (a. u.c), 

-^r^i^  which,  it  may  be  noted,  was  a  Sabbatic  year.^  Released  from  busi- 
ness and  agriculture,  the  multitudes  flocked  around  him  as  he  passed 
on  his  Mission.  Rapidly  the  tidings  spread  from  town  and  village  to 
distant  homestead,  still  swelling  the  numbers  that  hastened  to  the 
banks  of  the  sacred  river.  He  had  now  reached  what  seems  to  have 
been  the  most  northern  point  of  his  Mission-journey,^  Betli-Ahara 
('  the  house  of  passage,'  or  '  of  shipping  ') — according  to  the  ancient 
reading,  Bethany  ('the  house  of  shipping') — one  of  the  best  known 
St.  joiini.  fords  across  the  Jordan  into  Persea.*  Here  he  baptized."  The  ford 
was  little  more  than  twenty  miles  from  Kazareth.  But  long  before 
John  had  reached  that  spot,  tidings  of  his  word  and  work  must 
have  come  even  into  the  retirement  of  Jesus'  Home-Life. 

It  was  now,  as  we  take  it,  the  early  winter  of  the  year  780.* 
Jesus  had  waited  those  months.  Although  there  seems  not  to  have 
been  any  personal  acquaintance  between  Jesus  and  John — and  how 
could  there  be,  when  their  spheres  lay  so  widely  apart? — each  must 
have  heard  and  known  of  the  other.  Thirty  years  of  silence  weaken 
most  human  impressions — or,  if  they  deepen,  the  enthusiasm  that  had 
accompanied  them  passes  away.  Yet,  when  the  two  met,  and  per- 
haps had  brief  conversation,  each  bore  himself  in  accordance  with 
his  previous  history.  With  John  it  was  deepest,  reverent  humility — 
even  to  the  verge  of  misunderstanding  his  special  Mission,  and 
work  of  initiation  and  preparation  for  the  Kingdom.  He  had  heard 
of  Him  before  by  the  hearing  of  the  ear,  and  when  now  he  saw  Him, 

of  Keim's  renisirks  about  tlie  character  ^  It  is  one  of  the  merits  of  Lieut, 
and  views  of  .John,  we  feel  ooly  the  more  Conder  to  have  ideiitifiert~the  site  of 
that  sucli  a  man  could  not  have  talven  the  Beth-Abara.  The  word  i)robably  means 
public  position  nor  made  such  public  pro-  '  the  house  of  passage '  (fords),  but  may 
clamation  of  the  Kingdom  as  at  hand,  also  mean  'the  house  of  shipping,' the 
without  a  direct  and  objective  call  to  word  Abarah  in  Hebrew  meaning  '  ferry- 
it  from  God.  The  treatment  of  John's  boat,'  2  Sam.  xix.  18.  The  reading 
earlier  history  by  Keim  is,  of  course,  Bef/iqiua  instead  of  BetJudiarn  seems 
without  historical  basis.  undoubtedly  the  original  one,  only  the 

'  The  year  from  Tishri  (autumn)  779  word  must  not  be  derived  (as  by  Mr. 

to    Tishri.   780   was    a    Sabbatic    year.  Conder,   whose  exi)lanations  and  com- 

Comp.  the  evidence  in   Wieseler,   Syn-  ments  are   often   untenable),    from  the 

opse  d.  Evang.  pp.  204,  205.  province   linUinea,    but    explained    as 

■^  We  read  of  three  places  where  John  Beth-Oniyah,   the   'house  of   shipping.' 

baptized:  'the  wilderness  of  Jud«a ' —  (See  Liicke,    Comment,    ii.    d.    Evang. 

probably  the  traditional  site  near  Jericho;  Job.  i.  pp.  392.  .393.) 

.^non,    near  Salim,    on  the    boundary  *  Considerable  probability  attaches  to 

between  Samaria  and  Judaea  (Condn-'s  the  tradition  of  the  Basilideans,  that  our 

Handbook  of   the   Bible,   p.   320);    and  Lord's  Baptism  took  place  on  the  6th  or 

Beth-Abara,  the  modern  Abarah,  '  one  of  10th   of   January.      (See   Bp.    EUicotfs 

the  main  Jordan  fords,  a  little  north  of  Histor.  Lect.  on  the  Life  of   our  Lord 

Beisan '  (u.  s.).  Jesus  Christ,  p.  105,  note  2. 


33 


WHY   DID   JESUS   COME   TO   BE   BAPTIZED?  219 

that  look  of  (luict  dignity,  of  tlic  majesty  of  unsullied  purity  in  the     CHAP. 
only  Unfallen,  Unsinning  Man,  made  him  forget  even  the  express        Xll 
command  of  God,  which  had  sent  him  from  his  solitude  to  preach  and  ^- — ^r — ' 
Ijaptize,  and  that  very  sign  which  had  been  given  him  by  Avhich  to 
recognise  the  Messiah/ ^     In  that  Presence  it  only  became  to  him  a  ^st.  johni. 
question   of  the   more    '■  worthy '   to   the   misunderstanding   of  the 
nature  of  his  special  calling. 

But  Jesus,  as  He  had  not  made  haste,  so  was  He  not  capal)le  of 
misunderstanding.  To  Him  it  was  '  the  fulfilling  of  all  righteousness.' 
From  earliest  ages  it  has  been  a  question  why  Jesus  went  to  be 
baptized.  The  heretical  Gospels  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  Virgin- 
Mother  an  invitation  to  go  to  that  baptism,  to  which  Jesus  is 
supposed  to  have  replied  by  pointing  to  His  own  sinlessness,  except 
it  might  be  on  the  score  of  ignorance,  in  regard  to  a  limitation  of 
knowledge.^  Objections  lie  to  most  of  the  explanations  offered  by 
modern  writers.  They  include  a  bold  denial  of  the  fact  of  Jesus' 
Baptism;  the  profane  suggestion  of  collusion  between  John  and 
Jesus;  or  such  suppositions,  as  that  of  His  personal  sinfulness,  of 
His  coming  as  the  Representative  of  a  guilty  race,  or  as  the  bearer  of 
the  sins  of  others,  or  of  acting  in  solidarity  with  His  people — or  else 
to  separate  Himself  from  the  sins  of  Israel;  of  His  surrendering 
Himself  thereby  unto  death  for  man;  of  His  purpose  to  do  honour  to 
tlie  baptism  of  John;  or  thus  to  elicit  a  token  of  His  Messiahship; 
or  to  bind  Himself  to  the  observance  of  the  Law;  or  in  this  manner 
to  commence  His  Messianic  Work ;  or  to  consecrate  Himself  solemnly 
to  it;  or,  lastly,  to  receive  the  spiritual  qualification  for  it.^  To  these 
and  similar  views  must  be  added  the  latest  conceit  of  Eenan,*  who 
arranges  a  scene  between  Jesus,  who  comes  with  some  disciples,  and 
John,  when  Jesus  is  content  for  a  time  to  grow  in  the  shadow  of 
John,  and  to  submit  to  a  rite  which  was  evidently  so  generally 
acknowledged.  But  the  most  reverent  of  these  explanations  involve 
a  twofold  mistake.  They  represent  the  Baptism  of  John  as  one  of 
repentance,  and  they  imply  an  ulterior  motive  in  the  coming  of 
Christ  to  the  banks  of  Jordan.  But,  as  already  shown,  the  Baptism 
of  John   was   in   itself   only   a   consecration   to,    and    preparatory 

1  Tlie  superticuil  objection  on  the  sup-  theories.      Tlie   views    of    Godef    come 

l)ose(l  discreiiancy  between  St.  Matthew  nearest  to  wbat  we  regard  as  the  true 

iii.  14  and  St.  John  i.  33  has  been  well  exi^lanation. 

put  aside  b.y  Bp.  EUicott  (u.  s.  p.  107,  ^  I  must  here,  once  for  all,  exi)ress  my 

note).  astonishment  tliat  a  book    so  frivolous 

-  Conip.  Nicholson,  Gospel  according  and  fantastic  in  its  treatment  of  the  Life 

to  tiie  Hebrews,  \)\).  38,  92,  93.  of  Jesus,  and  so  super-licial  and   often 

•'  It  would  occupy  too  much  space  to  inaccurate,  should  have  excited  so  much 

give  tlie  names  of  the  authors  of  these  public  attention. 


280  FRO^I   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK  initiation  loi-,  the  new  Covenant  of  tlie  Kingdom.  As  applied  to 
II  sinful  men,  it  was  indeed  necessarily  a  'baptism  of  repentance; '  but 
"^^-"v^"^  not  as  applied  to  the  sinless  Jesus.  Had  it  primarily  and  always 
been  a  'bai)tism  of  repentance,'  He  could  not  have  submitted  to  it. 

Again,  and  most  important  of  all,  we  must  not  seek  for  any 
ulterior  motive  in  the  coming  of  Jesus  to  this  Baptism.  He  had  no 
ulterior  uiotive  of  any  kind:  it  was  an  act  of  simple  submissive 
obedience  on  the  part  of  the  Perfect  One — and  submissive  obedience 
has  no  motive  beyond  itself.  It  asks  no  reasons;  it  cherishes  no 
ulterior  purpose.  And  thus  it  was  '  the/?/ffilment  of  all  righteousness. ' 
And  it  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  all  His  previous  life.  Our  dif- 
ficulty here  lies — if  we  are  unbelievers,  in  thinking  simply  of  the 
Humanity  of  the  Man  of  ]S"azareth;  if  we  are  believers,  in  making 
abstraction  of  his  Divinity.  But  thus  much,  at  least,  all  must 
concede,  that  the  Gospels  always  present  Him  as  the  God-Man,  in  an 
inseparable  mystical  union  of  the  two  natures,  and  that  they  present 
to  us  the  even  more  mysterious  idea  of  His  Self-exinanition,  of  the 
voluntary  obscuration  of  His  Divinity,  as  part  of  His  Humiliation. 
Placing  ourselves  on  this  standpoint — Avliich  is,  at  any  rate,  that  of 
the  Evangelic  narrative— we  may  arrive  at  a  more  correct  view  cf 
this  great  event.  It  seems  as  if,  in  the  Divine  Self-exinanition,  ap- 
parently necessarily  connected  with  the  perfect  human  development 
of  Jes'is,  some  corresponding  outward  event  were  ever  the  occasion  of 
a  fresh  advance  in  the  Messianic  consciousness  and  work.  The  first 
event  of  that  kind  had  been  his  appearance  in  the  Temple.  These 
two  things  then  stood  out  vividly  before  Him — not  in  the  ordinary 
human,  but  in  the  Messianic  sense:  that  the  Temple  was  the  House  of 
His  Father,  and  that  to  be  busy  about  it  was  His  Life-work.  With 
this  He  returned  to  Nazareth,  and  in  willing  subjection  to  His 
Parents  fulfilled  all  righteousness.  And  still,  as  He  grew  in  years,  in 
wisdom,  and  in  favour  with  God  and  Man,  this  thought — rather  this 
burning  consciousness,  was  the  inmost  spring  of  His  Life.  What  this 
business  specially  was,  He  knew  not  yet,  and  waited  to  learn;  the 
hoio  and  the  ioheti  of  His  life-consecration.  He  left  unasked  and 
unanswered  in  the  still  waiting  for  Him.  And  in  this  also  we  see 
the  Sinless,  the  Perfect  One, 

When  tidings  of  J('lin"s  Baptism  reached  His  home,  there  could 
l)e  no  haste  on  His  part.  Even  with  knowledge  of  all  that  concerned 
Joim's  rehition  to  Him,  there  was  in  the  'fulfilment  of  all  righteous- 
ness' quiet  waiting.  The  one  question  with  Him  was,  as  He  after- 
wards put  it:  'The  Baptism  of  John,  whence  was  it?  from  heaven,  or 


CHRLST   FULFILLING   ALL   RTnilTEOUSNESS.  281 

of  men?'  (St,  Matt.  xxi.  25).  That  question  once  answered,  there  chap. 
could  be  no  longer  doubt  nor  hesitation.  He  went — not  for  any  Xll 
ulterior  purpose,  nor  from  any  other  motive  than  that  it  was  of  God.  ^— ^r^^-^ 
He  went  voluntarily,  because  it  was  such — and  because  '  it  became 
Ilim'  in  so  doing  'to  fulfil  all  righteousness.'  There  is  this  great 
difference  between  His  going  to  that  Baptism,  and  afterwards  into 
the  wilderness:  in  the  former  case.  His  act  was  of  preconceived 
purpose;  in  the  latter  it  was  not  so,  but  'He  was  driven' — without 
l)revious  purpose  to  that  effect — under  the  constraining  power  '  of  the 
Spirit,'  without  premeditation  and  resolve  of  it;  without  even  know- 
ledge of  its  object.  In  the  one  case  He  was  active,  in  the  other 
passive;  in  the  one  case  He  fulfilled  righteousness,  in  the  other  His 
righteousness  was  tried.  But  as,  on  His  first  visit  to  the  Temple, 
this  consciousness  about  His  Life-business  came  to  Him  in  His  Father's 
House,  ripening  slowly  and  fully  those  long  years  of  quiet  submission 
and  growing  wisdom  and  grace  at  Nazareth,  so  at  His  Baptism,  with 
the  accompanying  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  His  abiding  in  Him, 
and  the  heard  testimony  from  His  Father,  the  knowledge  came  to 
Him,  and,  in  and  with  ^  that  knowledge,  the  qualification  for  the  busi- 
ness of  His  Father's  House.  In  that  hour  He  learned  the  when,  and 
in  part  the  hoiv,  of  His  Life-business;  the  latter  to  be  still  farther,  and 
from  another  aspect,  seen  in  the  wilderness,  then  in  His  life,  in  His 
suffering,  and,  finally,  in  His  death.  In  man  the  subjective  and  the 
objective,  alike  intellectually  and  morally,  are  ever  separate;  in  God 
they  are  one.  What  He  is,  that  He  wills.  And  in  the  God-Man 
also  we  must  not  separate  the  subjective  and  the  objective.  The 
consciousness  of  the  when  and  the  hoiv  of  His  Life-business  was 
necessarily  accompanied,  while  He  prayed,  by  the  descent,  and  the 
abiding  in  Him,  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  b}^  the  testifying  Voice  from 
heaven.  His  inner  knowledge  was  real  qualification — the  forth- 
bursting  of  His  Power;  and  it  was  inseparably  accompanied  by 
outward  qualification,  in  what  took  place  at  His  Baptisnu  But  the 
first  step  to  all  was  His  voluntary  descent  to  Jordan,  and  in  it  the 
fulfilling  of  all  righteousness.  His  previous  life  had  been  that  of  the 
Perfect  Ideal  Israelite — believing,  unquestioning,  submissive — in  pre- 
paration for  that  which,  in  His  thirteenth  year,  He  liad  learned  as  its 
business.  The  Baptism  of  Christ  was  the  last  act  of  His  private  life; 
and,  emerging  from  its  waters  in  prayer,  He  learned:  ichen  His 
business  was  to  commence,  and  hoiv  it  would  be  done. 

^  But  the  latter  must  be  tiriiily  upheld. 


iii.  21. 


282  FROM  BETHLEHEM  TO  JORDAN. 

I5()<)K  That   one   outstanding   thought,   then,    'I   must   be   about   My 

'I  Father's  business,'  vvliich  had  been  the  principle  of  His  Xazaretli 

- — (^ — '  life,  had  come  to  full  ripeness  when  He  knew  that  the  cry,  '  The 
Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand,'  was  from  God.  The  first  great 
question  was  now  answered.  His  Father's  business  was  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven.  It  only  remained  for  Him  Ho  be  about  it,'  and  in 
this  determination  He  went  to  submit  to  its  initiatory  rite  of  13ai^- 
tism.  We  have,  as  we  understand  it,  distinct  evidence — even  if  it 
were  not  otherwise  necessary  to  suppose  this — that  '  all  the  people 
St.  Luke  had  i)e('n  ])aptized,' "  when  Jesus  came  to  John.  Alone  the  two  met 
— probal)ly  for  the  first  time  in  their  lives.  Over  that  which  passed 
between  them  Holy  Scripture  has  laid  the  veil  of  reverent  silence, 
save  as  regards  the  beginning  and  the  outcome  of  their  meeting, 
which  it  was  necessary  for  us  to  know.  When  Jesus  came,  John 
kncAv  Him  not.  And  even  when  He  knew  Him,  that  was  not  enough. 
Not  remembrance  of  what  he  had  heard  and  of  juist  transactions,  nor 
the  overwhelming  power  of  that  spotless  Purity  and  Majesty  of  will- 
ing submission,  were  sufficient.  For  so  great  a  witness  as  that  which 
John  was  to  bear,  a  present  and  visible  demonstration  from  heaven 
was  to  ])e  given.  Not  that  God  sent  the  Spirit-Dove,  or  heaven 
uttered  its  voice,  for  the  purpose  of  giving  this  as  a  sign  to  John. 
These  vuanifestations  were  necessary  in  themselves,  and,  we  might 
say,  would  have  taken  place  quite  irrespective  of  the  Baptist.  But, 
while  necessary  in  themselves,  they  were  also  to  be  a  sign  to  John. 
And  this  may  perhaps  explain  why  one  Gospel  (that  of  St.  John) 
seems  to  describe  the  scene  as  enacted  before  the  Baptist,  whilst 
others  (St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark)  tell  it  as  if  only  visible  to  Jesus.' 
The  one  bears  reference  to  '  the  record,'  the  other  to  the  deeper  and 
absolutely  necessary  fact  which  underlay  <  the  record.'  And,  beyond 
this,  it  may  help  us  to  perceive  at  least  one  aspect  of  what  to  man  is 
the  miraculous:  as  in  itself  the  higher  Necessary,  with  casual  and 
secondary  manifestation  to  man. 

We  can  understand  how  what  he  knew  of  Jesus,  and  what  he 
now  saw  and  heard,  must  have  overwhelmed  John  with  the  sense  of 
Christ's  transcendentally  higher  dignity,  and  led  him  to  hesitate 
about,  if  not  to  refuse,  administering  to  Him  the  rite  of  Baptism.'^ 
Not  because  it  was  '  the  baptism  of  repentance,'  but  because  he  stood 

'  The  account  by  St.  Luke  seems  to  me  thus  met. 
to  incluile  both.    The  common  objection  ^  Theexpre.ssionSzfK-ojAufj'fSt.  Matt, 
on  the  score  of  the  supposed  divergence  iii.  U:  'John  forbade  Him'jimiilies earn- 
between  St.  John  and  the  Synoptists  is  est  resistance  (comp.  Meyer  ad  locum). 


THE   BAPTIST   IN    lUESENCE   OF   THE   CHRIST.  283 

ill  the  presence  of  Iliiu  '  the  latchct  of  Whose  shoes '  he  was  'not  chap. 
wortliy  to  k)osc.'  Had  he  not  so  felt,  the  narrative  wouhl  not  have  Xll 
been  psychologically  true;  and,  had  it  not  been  recorded,  there  ■— — v-^-^ 
would  have  been  serious  difficulty  to  our  reception  of  it.  And  yet, 
withal,  in  so  '  forbidding  '  Him,  and  even  suggesting  his  own  baptism 
by  Jesus,  John  forgot  and  misunderstood  his  mission.  John  himself 
was  never  to  be  baptized;  he  only  held  open  the  door  of  the  new 
Kingdom;  himself  entered  it  not,  and  he  that  was  least  in  that 
Kingdom  was  greater  than  he.  Such  lowliest  place  on  earth  seems 
ever  conjoined  with  greatest  work  for  God.  Yet  this  misunder- 
standing and  suggestion  on  the  part  of  John  might  almost  be 
regarded  as  a  temptation  to  Christ.  Not,  perhaps.  His  first,  nor  yet 
this  His  first  victory,  since  the  '  sorrow '  of  His  Parents  about  His 
absence  from  them  when  in  the  Temple  must  to  the  absolute  sub- 
missiveness  of  Jesus  have  been  a  temptation  to  turn  aside  from  His 
path,  all  the  more  felt  in  the  tenderness  of  His  years,  and  the  inex- 
perience of  a  first  public  appearance.  He  then  overcame  by  the 
clear  consciousness  of  His  Life-business,  which  could  not  be  contra- 
vened by  any  apparent  call  of  duty,  however  specious.  And  He  now 
overcame  by  falling  back  upon  the  simi)le  and  clear  principle  which 
had  brought  him  to  Jordan:  'It  becometh  us  to  fulfil  all  righteous- 
ness.' Thus,  simply  putting  aside,  without  argument,  the  objection 
of  the  Baptist,  He  followed  the  Hand  that  pointed  Him  to  the  open 
door  of  'the  Kingdom.' 

Jesus  stepped  out  of  the  baptismal  waters  'praying.'*  One  MSt. Luke 
prayer,  the  only  one  which  He  taught  His  disciples,  recurs  to  our 
minds. ^  We  must  here  individualise  and  emphasise  in  their  special 
application  its  opening  sentences:  '  Our  Father  Which  art  in  heaven, 
hallowed  be  Thy  Name!  Thy  Kingdom  come!  Thy  will  be  done  in 
earth,  as  it  is  in  heaven! '  The  first  thought  and  the  first  petition  had 
been  the  conscious  ontcome  of  the  Temple-visit,  ripened  during  the 
long  years  at  Nazareth.  The  others  were  now  the  full  expression  of 
His  submission  to  Baptism.  He  knew  His  Mission;  He  had  con- 
secrated Himself  to  it  in  His  Baptism;  '  Father  Which  art  in  heaven, 
hallowed  be  Thy  Name. '  The  unlimited  petition  for  the  doing  of 
God's  Will  on  earth  with  the  same  absoluteness  as  in  heaven,  ivas 
His  self-consecration:  the  prayer  of  His  Baptism,  as  the  other  was  its 

1  It  seems  to  me  that  the  ])rayer  which  prayer  has,  of  course,  no  ajiplication  to 
the  Lord  tauajht  His  disciples  must  liave  Him,  but  is  His  aiiplication  of  the  doc- 
had  its  root  in,  and  talven  its  start  from,  trine  of  the  Kingdom  to  our  state  and 
His  own  inner  Life.     At  the  same  time  it  wants, 
is  adapted  to  our  wants.     Much  in  that 


iii.  21 


284  FROM   BETHLEHEM   TO   JORDAN. 

BOOK      confession.    And  the  '  Iiallo\v('(l  ))e  Thy  Name  '  was  the  eulogy,  because 
il  the  ripened  and  experimental  principle  of  His  Life.     How  this  Will, 

^-^■"^Y  connected  with  'the  Kingdom,'  was  to  be  done  l)y  Him,  and  ivJwn, 

He  was  to  learn  after  His  lJai)tism.  But  strange,  that  the  petition 
wliicli  followed  those  which  must  have  been  on  the  lii)S  of  Jesus  in 
that  hour  should  have  been  the  subject  of  thc^r.s-^  temptation  or  assault 
by  the  Enemy;  strange  also,  that  the  other  two  temptations  should 
have  rolled  back  the  force  of  the  assault  upon  the  two  great  ex- 
Ijeriences  He  had  gained,  and  which  formed  the  burden  of  the 
petitions,  'Thy  Kingdom  come;  Hallowed  be  Thy  Name.'  Was  it 
then  so,  that  all  the  assaults  which  Jesus  bore  only  concerned  and 
tested  the  reality  of  a  past  and  already  attained  experience,  save 
those  last  in  the  Garden  and  on  the  Cross,  which  were  '  sufierings ' 
by  which  He  '  was.' made  perfect'? 

But,  as  we  have  already  seen,  sucli  inward  forth-bursting  of 
Messianic  consciousness  could  not  l)e  separated  from  objective  qualifi- 
cation for,  and  testimony  to  it.  As  the  })rayer  of  Jesus  winged 
heavenwards.  His  solemn  response  to  the  call  of  the  Kingdom — '  Here 
am  I ; '  '  Lo,  I  come  to  do  Thy  Will ' — the  answer  came,  which  at  the 
same  time  was  also  the  predicted  sign  to  the  Baptist.  Heaven  seemed 
cleft,  and  in  bodily  shape  like  a  dove,  the  Holy  Ghost  descended 
on  ^  Jesus,  remaining  on  him.  It  was  as  if,  symbolically,  in  the 
1  St.  Pet.  words  of  St.  Peter,"  that  Baptism  had  been  a  new  flood,  and  He  Who 
now  emerged  from  it,  the  Noah — or  rest,  and  comtbrt-ln-inger — Who 
took  into  His  Ark  the  dove  bearing  the  olive-branch,  indicative  of  a 
new  life.  Here,  at  these  waters,  was  the  Kingdom,  into  which  Jesus 
had  entered  in  the  fulfilment  of  all  righteousness;  and  from  them  he 
emerged  as  its  Heaven-designated,  Heaven-qualified,  and  Heaven- 
proclaimed  King.  As  such  he  had  received  the  fulness  of  the  Spirit 
for  His  Messianic  Work — a  fulness  abiding  in  Him — that  out  of  it 
we  might  receive,  and  grace  for  grace.  As  such  also  the  voice  from 
Heaven  proclaimed  it,  to  Him  and  to  John:  'Thou  art  ("this  is') 
My  Beloved  Son,  in  Whom  I  am  well  pleased.'  Tlic  ratification  of 
the  great  Davidic  promise,  the  announcement  of  the  fulfilment  of  its 
predictive  import  in  Psalm  ii.'^  was  God's  solemn  declaration  of  Jesus 

1  Whether  or  not  we  adopt  the  reading  come  help.  It  paraphrases :  'Beloved  as 
£/5  avTov  in  St.  Mark  i.  10,  the  remnin-  a  son  to  his  fatlier  art  Thou  to  Me.'  Keim 
inrj  of  the  Holy  Spirit  upon  Jesus  is  re,i:;ar(lri  the  words,  '  Thou  art  my  beloved 
clearly  expressed  in  St.  John  i.  32.  Son,'  ifec,  as  a  mixture  of  Is.  xlii.  1  and 

2  liere  the  Tarjz;um  on  Ps.  ii.  7,  which  Ps.  ii.  7.  I  cannot  agree  with  this  view, 
is  evidently  intended  to  Aveaisen  the  thouijh  this  history  is  the  fulfilment  of 
Messianic  interpretation,    gives  us   wel-  tl)e  priMliction  in  Isaiali. 


lii.  21 


THE   DESCENT   OF   THE   SPIRIT   AND   THE   VOICE    FROM    HEAVEN.  285 

as  tlio  Mcssiali,  Ills  i)ii])li(i  proeJamatioR  of  it,  and  the  Ijeginiiiiig  of     CHAP. 
Jesus'  Messiauie  work.     And  so  the  Baptist  understood  it,  when  he       ^n 
'  bare  reeord  '  that  He  was  '  the  Son  of  God. ' "  " — ~^. ' 

Quite  intelligible  as  all  this  is,  it  is  certainly  miraculous;  not,  ^stJ"ii'U. 
indeed,  in  the  sense  of  conti'avention  of  the  Laws  of  Nature  (illogical 
as  that  phrase  is),  but  in  that  of  having  nothing  analogous  in  our 
present  knowledge  and  experience.  But  would  we  not  have  expected 
the  sui^ra-empirical,  the  directly  heavenly,  to  attend  such  an  event — 
that  i^,  if  the  narrative  itself  bo  true,  and  Jesus  what  the  Gospels 
re})re8ent  llini?  To  reject,  therefore,  the  narrative  because  of  its 
supra-enii)irical  accompaniment  seems,  after  all,  a  sad  inversion  of 
reasoning,  and  begging  the  question.  But,  to  go  a  step  further: 
if  there  be  no  reality  in  the  narrative,  whence  the  invention  of  the 
legendi'  It  certainly  had  no  basis  in  contemporary  Jewish  teaching; 
and,  equally  certainly,  it  would  not  have  spontaneously  occurred  to 
Jewish  minds.  Nowhere  in  Rabbinic  writings  do  we  find  any  hint 
of  a  Baptism  of  the  Messiah,  nor  of  a  descent  upon  llim  of  the 
Spirit  in  the  form  of  a  dove.  Rather  would  such  views  seem, 
a  priori,  repugnant  to  Jewish  thinking.  An  attempt  has,  however, 
been  made  in  the  direction  of  identifying  two  traits  in  this 
narrative  with  Rabbinic  notices.  The  '  Voice  from  heaven'  has  been 
reprcHcnted  as  the  'Bath-Qol,'  or  '  Daughter- Voice, '  of  which  we  read 
in  Rabbinic  writings,  as  bringing  heaven's  testimony  or  decision 
to  perplexed  or  hardly  bestead  Rabbis.  And  it  has  been  further  as- 
serted, that  among  the  Jews  '  the  dove '  was  regarded  as  the  emblem 
of  the  Spirit.  In  taking  notice  of  these  assertions  some  warmth  of 
language  may  be  forgiven. 

We  make  bold  to  maintain  that  no.  one,  who  has  impartially  ex- 
amined the  matter,^  could  find  any  real  analogy  between  the  so-called 
llath-Qol,  and  the  '  Voice  from  heaven'  of  which  record  is  made  in  the 
New  Testament.  However  opinions  might  differ,  on  one  thing  all 
were  agreed:  the  Batli-Qol  had  come  after  the  voice  of  prophecy  and 
the  Holy  Ghost  had  ceased  in  Israel,"  and,  so  to  speak,  had  taken,  '.  jer.  sot. 
their  place. ^    But  at  the  Baptism  of  Jesus  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Yoma'gfc; 


1    Dr.    Wilnsche's  Rabbinic  notes   on  translation  and  profane  misinterpretation 

tlic  P>iith-(,)ol  (Neue  Beitr.  pp.  22,  23)  are  of  the  words  '  She  lias  been  more  ri<>;h- 

lakcn    IVoni  Hamburger's  Real-Eucyivl.  teons'    (Gea.    xxxviii.    2())   occur   (Jer. 

(Abtli.  ii.  i)p.  92  etc.)."  Sot.  ix.  7),  at  all  bears  out  this  suiiges- 

-  IhtmhKrr/er,   indeed  maintains,    on  tion.     It  is  quite  untenable  in  view  of 

the  iiTOuiul  of  Mace.  23  6,  that  occasionally  the  distinct  statements  (Jer.  Sot.  ix.  14; 

it  was   identified  with  tlie   Holy  Spirit.  Sot.  48  b;  and  Sanh.  11  a),  that  after  the 

But  carefully  read,  neither  this  passaii-e,  cessation   of  the  Holy  Spirit  the  Bath- 

uor  the  other,  in  which  the  same  mis-  Qol  took  His  place. 


Sotah  38  a\ 
48  /( ;  Sanh. 
11  a 


286 


FROM   I]ETITLElIR:\r   TO   JORDAN. 


IJOOK 
Jl 


Ghost  ivas  accompanied  by  the  Voire  froin  Heaven.  Even  on  this 
ti'i-oiind,  therefore,  it  could  nut  luive  been  the  Rabbinic  Bath-Qol. 
J) lit,  further,  this  '  Daughter- Voice '  was  regarded  rather  as  the  echo  of, 
than  as  the  Voice  of  God  itself^  (Toseph.  Sanh,  xi.  1).  The  occasions 
on  which  this  '  Daughter-Voice '  was  supposed  to  have  been  heard  are 
so  various  and  sometimes  so  shocking,  both  to  common  and  to  moral 
sense,  that  a  comparison  with  the  Gospels  is  wholly  out  of  the  question. 
And  here  it  also  deserves  notice,  that  references  to  this  Bath-Qol 
increase  the  farther  we  remove  from  the  age  of  Christ.^ 

We  have  reserved  to  the  last  the  consideration  of  the  statement, 
that  among  the  Jews  the  Holy  Spirit  was  presented  under  the  symbol 
of  a  dove.  It  is  admitted,  that  there  is  no  support  for  this  idea 
either  in  the  Old  Testament  or  in  the  writings  of  Philo  {Lticke, 
Evang.  Joli.  i.  pp.  425,  426);  that,  indeed,  such  animal  symbolism  of 
the  Divine  is  foreign  to  the  Old  Testament.  But  all  the  more 
confident  appeal  is  made  to  Rabbinic  writings.  The  suggestion  was, 
apparently,  first  made  by  Wetstein.''  It  is  dwelt  npon  with  much 
confidence  by  Gfrorer^  and  others,  as  evidence  of  the  mythical  origin 
I'jahrh.  of  the  Gospels;^  it  is  repeated  by  WUnsche,  and  even  reproduced  by 
vof.u.^plisa  writers  who,  had  they  known  the  real  state  of  matters,  would  not 


'  Nov.  Test, 
i.  p.  268. 


'  Comp.  on  the  subject  Pinner  in  his 
Introduction  to  tlie  tractate  Beralviioth. 

'•^  In  the  Targum  Onkelos  it  is  not  at 
all  mentioned."  In  the  Targum  Pseudo- 
Jon,  it  occurs  four  times  (Gen.  xxxviii. 
2(j;  Numlj.  xxi.  G;  Deut.  xxviii.  15; 
xxxiv.  5),  and  four  times  in  the  Targum 
on  the  Hagiographa  (twice  in  Ecclesi- 
astes,  once  in  Lamentations,  and  once  in 
Esther).  In  Meclillta  and  Sii)hra  it  does 
not  occur  at  all,  and  in  8iphre  only  once, 
in  the  absurd  legend  that  the  Bath-Qol 
was  heard  a  distance  of  twelve  times 
twelve  miles  proclaiming  the  death  of 
Moses  (ed.  Friedmann,  p.  U!)  b).  In  the 
Mishnah  it  is  only  twice  mentioned  (Yeb. 
xvi.  6,  where  the  sound  of  a  Bath-Qol  is 
supposed  to  be  sufficient  attestation  of  a 
man's  death  to  enable  his  wife  to  marry 
again;  and  in  Abhoth  vi.  2,  where  it  is 
impossible  to  uiulerstand  the  language 
otherwise  tlian  figuratively).  In  the  Jeru- 
salem Talmud  tlie  Bath-Qol  is  referred 
to  twenty  times,  and  in  llie  Babylon 
Talmud  sixty-nine  times.  Sometinu's  tlie 
Bath-Qol  gives  sentence  in  favour  of  a 
poimlar  Rabbi,  sometimes  it  attempts  to 
decide  controversies,  or  bears  witness; 
or  else  it  is  said  every  day  to  proclaim : 
Such  an  one's  daughter  is  destined  for 


such  an  one  (Moed  Kat.  18  h\  Sot.  2  a; 
Sanh.  22  a).  Occasionally  it  utters 
curious  or  profane  interiu-etations  of 
Scripture  (as  in  Yoma  22  b\  Sot.  10  i'/), 
or  silly  legends,  as  in  regard  to  the 
insect  Yattush  which  was  to  torture  Titus 
(Gitt.  56  6),  or  as  warning  against  a 
place  where  a  hatchet  had  fallen  into  the 
water,  descending  for  seven  years  v.ithout 
reaching  tlie  bottom.  Indeed,  so  strong 
became  the  feeling  against  this  super- 
stition, that  the  more  rational  Rabbis 
protested  against  any  appeal  to  the  Bath- 
Qol  (Baba  Metsia59"6). 

^  The  force  of  Gfrbrer's  attacks  upon 
the  Gospels  lies  in  his  cumulative  at- 
temjjts  to  prove  that  the  individual 
miraculous  facts  recorded  in  the  Gospels 
are  based  ujion  Jewish  notions.  It  is, 
therefore,  necessary  to  examine  each  of 
them  sei)arately,  and  such  examination, 
if  careful  and  conscientious,  shows  that 
his  ([notations  are  often  untrustworthy, 
and  ills  conclusions  fallacies.  None  the 
less  taking  are  they  to  those  who  are 
imperfectly  acquainted  with  Rabbinic 
literature.  Wiinsche's  Talmiidic  and 
Midrashic  Notes  on  the  N.T.  (Gottingen, 
lS78j  are  also  too  often  misleading. 


MISTAKEN   JEWISH   ANALOGIES. 


287 


have  lent  their  authority  to  it.  Of  tlie  two  passages  l3y  whidi  this 
strange  liyi)othesis  is  supported,  that  in  the  Targuui  on  Cant.  ii.  12 
may  at  onec  be  dismissed,  as  dating  considerably  after  the  close  of 
the  Talmud.  There  remains,  therefore,  only  the  one  passage  in  the 
Talmud,' which  is  generally  thus  quoted:  '  The  Spirit  of  God  moved 
on  the  face  of  the  waters,  like  a  dove.' ''  That  this  quotation  is 
incomi)lete,  omitting  the  most  important  part,  is  only  a  light  charge 
against  it.  For,  if  fulh'  made,  it  would  only  the  more  clearly  be 
seen  to  be  inapplicable.  The  passage  (Chag.  15  a)  treats  of  the 
supposed  distance  between  'the  upper  and  the  lower  waters,'  which 
is  stated  to  amount  to  only  three  llngerbreadths.  This  is  proved 
by  a  reference  to  Gen.  i.  2,  where  the  Spirit  of  God  is  said  to  In-ood 
over  the  face  of  the  waters,  'just  as  a  dove  broodeth  over  her  young 
without  touching  them.'  It  will  be  noticed,  that  the  comparison 
is  not  between  the  Spirit  and  the  dove,  but  between  the  closeness  ^^ith 
which  a  dove  broods  over  her  young  without  touching  them,  and 
the  supposed  proximity  of  the  Spirit  to  the  lower  waters  without 
touching  them.'  But,  if  any  doubt  could  still  exist,  it  would  be 
removed  by  the  fact  that  in  a  parallel  passage,''  the  expression  used 
is  not  'dove'  but  'that  bird.'  Thus  much  for  this  oft-misquoted 
passage.  But  we  go  farther,  and  assert,  that  the  dove  was  not  the 
symbol  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  but  that  of  Israel.  As  such  it  is  so 
nnivcrsally  adopted  as  to  have  become  almost  historical.'*  If,  there- 
fore. Rabbinic  illustration  of  the  descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit  with  the 
visi])le  appearance  of  a  dove  must  be  sought  for,  it  would  lie  in  the 
acknowledgment  of  Jesus  as  the  ideal  typical  Israelite,  the  Repre- 
sentative of  His  People. 

The  lengthened  details,  which  have  been  necessar^'for  the  exposure 
of  the  mythical  theory,  will  not  have  been  without  use,  if  they  carry 
to  the  mind  the  conviction  that  this  history  had  no  basis  in  existing 
Jewish  belief.  Its  origin  cannot,  therefore,  be  rationally  accounted 
for — except  by  the  answer  which  Jesus,  when  He  came  to  Jordan, 
gave  to  that  grand  fundamental  question:  '  The  Baptism  of  John, 
whence  was  it?     From  Heaven,  or  of  men?"" 


THAI'. 
XII 


"  Cliag.  15  a 

^  Farrar, 
Life  of 
Christ,  i, 
p.  117 


1  The  sayinj;  in  Cliaa;.  15  a  is  of  Ben 
Soma,  who  is  described  in  Rabbinic  lit- 
erature as  tainted  with  Christian  views, 
and  whose  belief  in  the  i)ossibilit}'  of  the 
supernatural  birth  of  the  Messiah  is  so 


coarsely  satirised  in  the  Talmud.  Eabbi 
Loin  (Lebensalter.  p.  58)  suggests  that 
in  Ben  Soma's  tigure  of  the  dove  there 
may  have  been  a  Christian  reminiscence. 


■  Ber.  R.  2 


^  Comp.  the 
loiiK  ill  us-  • 
tratiiiiis  iu 
the  Hidr. 
on  Sons  i. 
15:  Sanh. 
95  (I :  Ber. 
E.  oil; 
Yalkiit  on 
Ps.  Iv.  7. 
and  other 
passages 


«  St.  Matt. 
xxi.  25 


-Booh  HI. 

THE  ASCENT: 

FROM    THE    RIYEU   JORDAN    TO    THE   MOUNT    OF 
TRANSFIGURATION. 


n:  ^DT  immi^r  x'^'i::  nnx  n":p,-i  ?r  I'm::;  Ni'i^s  nnxr   c^p?o  :i3 

c'Din:D  ':;?vr:^"i  c^n^:::  ■'i:ri  rr,i-iD  diid 

'  Tn  every  passage  of  Scripture  where  tliou  findest  the  Majesty  of  God,  thou  also 
findest  close  by  His  Condescensiou  (Humility).  So  it  is  writteu  down  in  the  Law 
[Deut.  X.  17,  followed  by  verse  18],  repeated  in  the  Prophets  [Is.  Ivii.  15],  and 
reiterated  in  the  Hagiographa  [Ps.  Ixviii.  4,  followed  by  verse  5].' — Megill.  31  a. 


THE   GREAT  ANTITHESIS.  291 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  TEMPTATION    OF   JESUS. 
(St.  Matt.  iv.  1-11;  St.  Mark  i.  12,  13;  St.  Luke  iv.  1-13.) 

The  proclamation  and  inauguration  of  the  '  Kingdom  of  Heaven  '  at     CHAP. 
such  a  time,  and  under  such  circumstances,  was   one  of  the  great         ^ 
antitheses  of  history.     With  reverence  be  it  said,  it  is  only  God  Who  ^-^^.^^ 
would  thus  begin  His  Kingdom,     A  similar,  even  greater  antithesis, 
was  the  commencement  of  the  Ministry  of  Christ.     From  the  Jordan 
to  the  wilderness  with  its  wild  beasts;  from  the  devout  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  Baptist,  the  consecration  and  filial  prayer  of  Jesus,  the 
descent  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  the  heard  testimony  of  Heaven,  to 
the  utter  forsakenness,  the  felt  want  and  weakness  of  Jesus,  and  the 
assaults  of  the  Devil — no  contrast  more  startling  could  be  conceived. 
And  yet,  as  we  think  of  it,  what  followed  upon  the  Baptism,  and  that 
it  so  followed,  was  necessary,  as  regarded  the  Person  of  Jesus,  His 
Work,  and  that  which  was  to  result  from  it. 

Psychologically,  and  as  regarded  the  Work  of  Jesus,  even  reverent 
negative  Critics  ^  have  perceived  its  higher  need.  That  at  His 
consecration  to  the  Kingship  of  the  Kingdom,  Jesus  should  have 
become  clearly  conscious  of  all  that  it  implied  in  a  world  of  sin; 
that  the  Divine  method  by  which  that  Kingdom  should  be  estab- 
lished, should  have  been  clearly  brought  out,  and  its  reality  tested; 
and  that  the  King,  as  Representative  and  Founder  of  the  Kingdom, 
should  have  encountered  and  defeated  the  representative,  founder, 
and  holder  of  the  opposite  power,  '  the  prince  of  this  world  ' — these 
arc  thoughts  which  must  arise  in  everyone  who  believes  in  any  Mis- 
sion of  the  Chi'ist.  Yet  this  only  as,  after  the  events,  we  have 
learned  to  know  the  character  of  that  Mission,  not  as  we  might  have 
preconceived  it.     We  can  understand,  how  a  Life  and  Work  such  as 

'  No  otiiev  terms  would  correctly  de-  Strauss,  or  tlie  picturesque  inaccuracies 

scribe  tlie  book  of  Keim  to  which  I  spe-  of  a  Hausratii,  no  serious  student  need  be 

cially  refer.     How  widely  it  differs,   not  told.     Perhaps  on  that  ground  it  is  only 

only  from  the  sujierticial  trivialities  of  a  the  more  dangerous. 
Reuan,  but  from  the  stale  arguments  of 


292  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      thill  of  Jesus,  would  commence  with  '  the  Temptation,'  but  none  other 
in        lluin  His.     Judaism  never  conceived  such  an  idea;  because  it  never 

^- — ^. '  conceived  a  Messiah  like  Jesus.      It  is  quite  true  that  long  previous 

Biblical  teaching,  and  even  the  psychological  necessity  of  the  case, 
must  have  pointed  to  temptation  and  victory  as  the  condition  of 
spiritual  greatness.  It  could  not  have  been  otherwise  in  a  world 
hostile  to  God,  nor  yet  in  man,  whose  conscious  choice  determines  his 
position.  No  crown  of  victory  without  previous  contest,  and  that 
proportionately  to  its  brightness;  no  moral  ideal  without  personal 
attainment  and  probation.  The  patriarchs  had  been  tried  and  proved ; 
so  had  Moses,  and  all  the  heroes  of  faith  in  Israel.  And  Rabbinic 
legend,  enlarging  upon  the  Biblical  narratives,  has  much  to  tell  of  the 
original  envy  of  the  Angels;  of  the  assaults  of  Satan  upon  Abraham, 
when  about  to  oifer  up  Isaac;  of  attempted  resistance  by  the  Angels 
to  Israel's  reception  of  the  Law;  and  of  the  final  vain  endeavour  of 
Satan  to  take  away  the  soul  of  Moses.  ^  Foolish,  repulsive,  and  even 
blasphemous  as  some  of  these  legends  are,  thus  much  at  least  clearly 
stood  out,  that  spiritual  trials  must  precede  spiritual  elevation.  In 
their  own  language:  'The  Holy  One,  blessed  be  His  Name,  does  not 
elevate  a  man  to  dignity  till  He  has  first  tried  and  searched  him;  and 
a Bemidb.  if  hc  stauds  in  temptation,  then  He  raises  him  to  dignity. '  ^ 
warsh.  vol.  Thus  far  as  regards  man.  But  in  reference  to  the  Messiah  there 
unJ's  5  and  is  uot  a  hint  of  any  temptation  or  assault  by  Satan.  It  is  of  such 
tom""^  °  importance  to  mark  this  clearly  at  the  outset  of  this  wonderful  history, 
that  proof  must  be  ofiered  even  at  this  stage.  In  whatever  manner 
negative  critics  may  seek  to  account  for  the  introduction  of  Christ's 
Temptation  at  the  commencement  of  His  Ministry,  it  cannot  have 
been  derived  from  Jewish  legend.  The  '  mythical '  interpretation 
of  the  Gospel-narratives  breaks  down  in  this  almost  more  manifestly 
than  in  any  other  instance.^  So  far  from  any  idea  obtaining  that 
Satan  was  to  assault  the  Messiah,  in  a  well-known  passage,  which 
''Yaikuton  has  been  previously  quoted,''  the  Arch-enemy  is  represented  as 
vol.  li.  p.  56  overwhelmed  and  falling  on  his  face  at  sight  of  Him,  and  owning 

1  On  the  temptations  of  Abraham  see  esi)ecially  the  truly  horrible  story  of  the 
Book  of  .Jubilees,  ch.  xvii. ;  Sanh.  89  b  death  of  Moses  in  liebarR.  11  (ed.  Wars/i. 
(and  ditlerently  but  not  less  blasphe-  iii.  p.  22  a  and  //).  But  I  am  not  aware 
mously  in  Pirke  de  R.  Elies.  .31) ;  Pirke  de  of  any  temptation  of  Moses  by  Satan. 
R.  Elies.  26,  31,  .32  (where  also  about  ^  fhus  Gfrdrer  can  only  hope  that 
Satan's  temptation  of  Sarah,  who  dies  in  some  Jewish  parallelism  may  yet  be  dis- 
consecpience  of  his  tidings);  Ab.  de  R.  N.  covered  (!);  while  Keim  suggests,  of 
33;  Ber.  R.  32,  56;  Yalkut.  i.  c.  98,  p.  28  course  without  a  tittle  of  evidence,  ad- 
1i;  and  Tanchuma,  where  the  story  is  ^-  ditions  by  the  early  Jewish  Christians, 
lated  with  most  repulsive  details.  As  to  But  irhence  MvXwhy  these  imaginary  ad- 
Moses,  see  for  example  Sliablj.  89  r/;  and  ditions? 


THE   MESSIAH    OF   JUDAISM   THE   ANTI-CHRIST   OF   THE   GOSPELS.  293 

his  complete  defeat.'     On  another  point  in  this  history  we  lind  tlie     CHAP. 
same  inversion  of  thought  current  in  Jewish  legend.     In  the  Com-         l 
mentary  just  referred  to,"  the  placing  of  Messiah  on  the  pinnacle  of  ^ — -r — ' 
the  Temple,  so  far  from  being  of  Satanic  temptation,  is  said  to  mark  "  "•  »•  «c)i-  '^ 
the  hour  of  deliverance,  of  Messianic  proclamation,  and  of  Gentile 
voluntary  submission.     '  Our  Rabbis  give  this  tradition:  In  the  hour 
when  King  Messiah  cometh,  He  standeth  upon  the  roof  of  the  Sanc- 
tuary, and  proclaims  to  Israel,  saying.  Ye  poor  (suffering),  the  time 
of  your  redemption  draweth  nigh.     And  if  ye  believe,  rejoice  in  My 

Light,  which  is  risen  upon  you Is.  Ix.  1 upon  you  only 

....  Is.  Ix.  2 In  that  hour  will  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  His 

Name,  make  the  Light  of  the  Messiah  and  of  Israel  to  shine  forth; 
and  all  shall  come  to  the  Light  of  the  King  Messiah  and  of  Israel, 

as  it  is  written Is.  Ix.  3 And  they  shall  come  and  lick 

the  dust  from  under  the  feet  of  the  King  Messiah,  as  it  is  written, 

Is.  xlix.  23 And  all  shall  come  and  fall  on  their  faces  before 

Messiah  and  before  Israel,  and  say.  We  will  be  servants  to  Him  and 
to  Israel.  And  every  one  in  Israel  shall  have  2,800  servants,^  as  it 
is  written,  Zech.  viii.  23.'  One  more  quotation  from  the  same 
Commentary:''  'In  that  hour,  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  His  Name,  >>\x.b. 
exalts  the  Messiah  to  the  heaven  of  heavens,  and  spreads  over  Him  therdown 
of  the  splendour  of  His  glory  because  of  the  nations  of  the  world, 
because  of  the  wicked  Persians.  They  say  to  Him,  Ephraim,  Messiah, 
our  Righteousness,  execute  judgment  upon  them,  and  do  to  them 
what  Thy  soul  desireth.' 

In  another  respect  these  quotations  are  important.  They  show 
that  such  ideas  were,  indeed,  present  to  the  Jewish  mind,  but  in  a 
sense  opposite  to  the  Gospel-narratives.  In  other  words,  they  were 
regarded  as  the  rightful  manifestation  of  Messiah's  dignity;  whereas 
in  the  Evangelic  record  they  are  presented  as  the  suggestions  of 
Satan,  and  the  Temptation  of  Christ.  Thus  the  Messiah  of  Judaism 
is  the  Anti-Christ  of  the  Gospels.  But  if  the  narrative  cannot  be 
traced  to  Rabbinic  legend,  may  it  not  be  an  adaptation  of  an  Old 
Testament  narrative,  such  as  the  account  of  the  forty  days'  fast  of 
Moses  on  the  mount,  or  of  Elijah  in  the  wilderness?  Viewing  the 
Old  Testament  in  its  unity,  aiul  the  Messiah  as  the  apex  in  the 
column   of    its   history,    we    admit — or  rather,    we    must   expect — 

1  Keim  (Jesu  von  Naz.   i.  b,  p.  564)         '^  The  number  is  thus  reached :  as  there 

seems  not    to    have  perused   the  whole  are  seventu  nations,  and  feu  of  eaoii  are 

passaft'e,  and,  quoting  it  at  second-liand,  to  tal<e  hold  on  each  of  l\w  four  corners 

has  misapplied  it.     The  passage  (Yalkut  of  a  Jew's  garment,  we  have  70  x  10  x  4 

on  Is.  Ix.  1)  has  been  given  before.  ^2,800. 


294  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      throughout  points  of  correspondence  between  Moses,  Elijah,  and  the 
III        Messiah.     In  fact,   these  may  be  described  as  marking  the  three 

^ — ~Y — '  stages  in  the  history  of  the  Covenant.  Moses  was  its  giver,  Elijah 
its  restorer,  the  Messiah  its  renewer  and  perfectcr.  And  as  such  they 
all  had,  in  a  sense,  a  similar  outward  consecration  for  their  work. 
But  that  neither  Moses  nor  Elijah  was  assailed  by  the  Devil,  consti- 
tutes not  the  only,  though  a  vital,  difference  between  the  fast  of  Moses 
and  Elijah,  and  that  of  Jesus.  Moses  fasted  in  the  middle,  Elijah  at 
the  end,  Jesus  at  the  beginning  of  His  ministry.  Moses  fasted  in 
the  Presence  of  God;^  Elijah  alone;  Jesus  assaulted  by  the  Devil. 
Moses  had  been  called  up  by  God;  Elijah  had  gone  forth  in  the 
bitterness  of  his  own  spirit;  Jesus  was  driven  by  the  Spirit.  Moses 
failed  after  his  forty  days'  fast,  when  in  indignation  he  cast  the  Tables 
of  the  Law  from  him;  Elijah  failed  before  his  forty  days'  fast;  Jesus 
was  assailed  for  forty  days  and  endured  the  trial.  Moses  was 
angry  against  Israel;  Elijah  despaired  of  Israel;  Jesus  overcame  for 
Israel. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that  to  each  the  trial  came  not  only  in  his 
human,  but  in  his  representative  capacity — as  giver,  restorer,  or 
perfecter  of  the  Covenant.  When  Moses  and  Elijah  failed,  it  was 
not  only  as  individuals,  but  as  giving  or  restoring  the  Covenant. 
And  when  Jesus  conquered,  it  was  not  only  as  the  Unfallen  and 
Perfect  Man,  but  as  the  Messiah.  His  Temptation  and  Victory  have 
therefore  a  twofold  aspect:  the  general  human  and  the  Messianic, 
and  these  two  are  closely  connected.  Hence  we  draw  also  this  happy 
inference:  in  whatever  Jesus  overcame,  we  can  overcome.  Each 
victory  which  He  has  gained  secures  its  fruits  for  us  who  are  His 
disciples  (and  this  alike  objectively  and  subjectively).  We  walk  in 
His  foot-prints;  we  can  ascend  by  the  rock-hewn  steps  which  His 
Agony  has  cut.  He  is  the  perfect  man;  and  as  each  temptation 
marks  a  human  assault  (assault  on  humanity),  so  it  also  marks  a 
human  victory  (of  humanity).  But  He  is  also  the  Messiah;  and 
alike  the  assault  and  the  victory  were  of  the  Messiah.  Thus,  each 
victory  of  'humanity  becomes  a  victory  for  humanity;  and  so  is  ful- 
filled, in  this  respect  also,  that  ancient  hymn  of  royal  victory,  'Thou 
hast  ascended  on  high;  Thou  hast  led  captivity  captive;  Thou  hast 
received  gifts  for  men;  yea,  for  the  rebellious  also,  that  Jehovah  God 

a  Pa  ixviii.   iiiiu-ht  dwcll  auiong  them.' "  ^ 

18 

1  Tlie  Rabbis  have  it,  that  a  man  must      the  Mount  he  lived  of  '  the  bread  of  the 
accommodate  liimseif  to  tlie  ways  of  the      Torali '  (Shem.  R.  47). 
place  where  he  is.     Wiieii  Moses  was  on  -  Tlie  (luotation   in   Eph.  iv.  S  resem- 


WAS   THE   TEMPTATION   REAL   AND   OUTWAliD  ?  295 

But  even  so,  there  arc  other  considerations  necessarily  preliminary     CHAP, 
to  the  study  of  one  of  the  most  important  parts  in  the  life  of  Christ.  I 

They  concern  these  two  questions,  so  closely  connected  that  they  can  "-^f ' 

scarcely  be  kept  quite  apart:  Is  the  Evangelic  narrative  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  account  of  a  real  and  outward  event  ?  And  if  so,  how 
was  it  possible — or,  in  what  sense  can  it  be  asserted — that  Jesus 
Christ,  set  before  us  as  the  Son  of  God,  was  ^  tempted  of  the  Devil '  ? 
All  subsidiary  questions  run  up  into  these  two. 

As  regards  the  reality  and  outwardness  of  the  temptation  of  Jesus, 
several  suggestions  may  be  set  aside  as  unnatural,  and  ex  post  facto 
attempts  to  remove  a  felt  difficulty.  Renans  frivolous  conceit 
scarcely  deserves  serious  notice,  that  Jesus  went  into  the  wilderness 
in  order  to  imitate  the  Baptist  and  others,  since  such  solitude  was  at 
the  time  regarded  as  a  necessary  preparation  for  great  things.  We 
equally  dismiss  as  more  reverent,  but  not  better  grounded,  such  sug- 
gestions as  that  an  interview  there  with  the  deputies  of  the  Sanhedrin, 
or  with  a  Priest,  or  with  a  Pharisee,  formed  the  historical  basis  of  the 
Satanic  Temptation;  or  that  it  was  a  vision,  a  dream,  the  reflection 
of  the  ideas  of  the  time;  or  that  it  was  a  parabolic  form  in  which 
Jesus  afterwards  presented  to  His  disciples  His  conception  of  the 
Kingdom,  and  how  they  were  to  preach  it.'  Of  all  such  explanations 
it  may  be  said,  that  the  narrative  does  not  warrant  them,  and  that 
they  would  probably  never  have  been  suggested,  if  their  authors  had 
been  able  simply  to  accept  the  Evangelic  history.  But  if  so  it 
would  have  been  both  better  and  Aviser  wholly  to  reject  (as  some  have 
done)  the  authenticity  of  this,  as  of  the  whole  early  history  of  the  Life 
of  Christ,  rather  than  transform  what,  if  true,  is  so  unspeakably 
grand  into  a  series  of  modern  platitudes.  And  yet  (as  Keim  has  felt) 
it  seems  impossible  to  deny,  that  such  a  transaction  at  the  beginning 
of  Christ's  Messianic  Ministry  is  not  only  credible,  but  almost  a 
necessity;  and  that  such  a  transaction  must  have  assumed  the  form 
of  a  contest  with  Satan.  Besides,  throughout  the  Gospels  there  is  not 
only  allusion  to  this  first  great  conflict  (so  that  it  does  not  belong  only  to 
the  early  history  of  Christ's  Life),  but  constant  reference  to  the  power 
of  Satan  in  the  world,  as  a  kingdom  opposed  to  that  of  God,  and  of 
which  the  Devil  is  the  King.^  And  the  reality  of  such  a  kingdom  of 
evil  no  earnest  mind  would  call  in  question,  nor  would  it  pronounce  cl^ 

bles  the  rendering  of  the  Targum  (see  vidual  writers  who  have  broached  these 

Delitzsch  Comm.  ii^  d.  Psalter,  vol.  i.  p.  and  other  equally  untenable  hypotheses. 

503).  '•-'  The  former  notably  in  St.  Jtatt.  xii. 

1  We  refrain   from  no.niing  the  indi-  25-28;  St.  Luke  xi.  17  &c.     The  import 


29G 


FROM   JOIJDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  Deut. 
xxxiv.  1-3 


priori  aii'ainst  the  personality  of  its  king.  Reasoning  a  jjriori,  its 
credibility  rests  on  the  same  kind  of,  only,  perluijjs,  on  more  generally 
patent,  evidence  as  that  of  the  Ijeneficent  Anthor  of  all  Good,  so  that 
— with  reverence  be  it  said — we  have,  apart  from  Holy  Scripture,  and, 
as  regards  one  branch  of  the  argument,  as  much  evidence  for  l^elieving 
in  a  personal  Satan,  as  in  a  Personal  God.  Holding,  therefore,  by  the 
reality  of  this  transaction,  and  finding  it  equally  impossible  to  trace.it 
to  Jewish  legend,  or  to  explain  it  by  the  coarse  hypothesis  of  misunder- 
standing, exaggeration,  and  the  like,  this  one  question  arises:  Might 
it  not  have  been  a  purely  inward  transaction, — or  does  the  narrative 
present  an  account  of  what  was  objectively  real  ? 

At  the  outset,  it  is  only  truthful  to  state,  that  the  distinction  does 
not  seem  of  quite  so  vital  importance  as  it  has  appeared  to  some, 
who  have  used  in  regard  to  it  the  strongest  language.^  On  the 
other  hand  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  narrative,  if  naturally 
interpreted,  suggests  an  outward  and  real  event,  not  an  inward  trans- 
action; ^  that  there  is  no  other  instance  of  ecstatic  state  or  of  vision 
recorded  in  the  life  of  Jesus,  and  that  (as  Bishop  £'^?/cof Hias  shown), ^ 
the  special  expressions  used  are  all  in  accordance  with  the  natural  view. 
To  this  we  add,  that  some  of  the  objections  raised — notably  that 
of  the  impossibility  of  showing  from  one  spot  all  the  kingdoms  of  the 
world — cannot  bear  close  investigation.  For  no  rational  interpretation 
would  insist  on  the  absolute  literality  of  this  statement,  any  more  than 
on  that  of  the  survey  of  the  ivhole  extent  of  the  land  of  Israel  by  Moses 
from  Pisgah.""  *  All  the  requirements  of  the  narrative  would  be  met  l:)y 
supposing  Jesus  to  have  been  placed  on  a  very  high  mountain,  whence 
south,  the  land  of  Judaea  and  far-ofi'Edom;  east,  the  swelling  plains 
towards  Euphrates;  north,  snow-capped  Lebanon;  and  west,  the 
cities  of  Herod,  the  coast  of  the  Gentiles,  and  beyond,  the  wide  sea 
dotted  w^ith  sails,  gave  far-ofl'  prospect  of  the  kingdoms  of  this  world. 
To  His  piercing  gaze  all  their  grandeur  would  seem  to  unroll,  and 
pass  before  Him  like  a  moving  scene,  in  which  the  sparkle  of  beauty 
and  wealth  dazzled  the  eye,  the  sheen  of  arms  glittered  in  the  far 


of  this,  as  looking  back  upon  the  history 
of  the  Temptation,  has  not  alwaj's  been 
sufficiently  recognised.  In  regard  to 
Satan  and  his  power  many  passages  will 
occur  to  the  reader,  such  as  St.  Matt.  vi. 
13;  xii.  22;  xiii.  19,  25,  .39;  xxvi.  41;  St. 
Luke  X.  18;  xxii.  3,  28,  31 :  St.  John  viii. 
44;  xii.  31;  xiii.  27;  xiv.  30;  xvi.  11. 

1  So  Bishop  Ellicott,  Histor.  Lectures, 
p.  111. 

^  Professor  Godefs  views  on  tliis  sub- 
ject   are   very    far    fi'om    satisfactory, 


whether  exegetically  or  dogmatically. 
Happily,  tliey  fall  far  short  of  the  notion 
of  any  internal  solicitation  to  sin  in  the 
case  of  Jesus,  which  Bishop  EUicott  so 
justlv  denounces  in  strongest  language. 

•^  U.  s.  p.  110,  note  2. 

*  According  to  Siphre  fed.  Friedmnnn 
p.  149  a  and  b),  God  showed  to  Moses 
Israel  in  its  hajipiness,  wars,  and  misfor- 
tunes; the  whole  world  from  the  Day  of 
Creation  to  that  of  the  Resurrection; 
Paradise,  and  Gehenna. 


TILE   TEJMI'TATIUN   BOTH, 'OL'TWiUiD '  ^VND  'INW.Uip.'  297 

distiuiei',  the  ti'amp  of  armed  men,  the  hum  of  busy  cities,  and  the     CHAP. 
sound  of  numy  voices  fell  on  the  ear  like  the  far-otf  rush  of  the  sea,  I 

while  the  restful  harmony  of  thouiiht,  or  the  music  of  art,  held  and   ^^-^r^-^ 
bewitched  the  senses — and  all  seemed  to  pour  forth  its  fullness  in 
tribute  of  homage  at  His  feet  in  Whom  all  is  perfect,  and  to  Whom 
all  belongs. 

But  in  saying  this  we  have  already  indicated  tliat,  in  such  circum- 
stances, the  boundary-line  between  the  outward  and  the  inward  must 
have  been  both  narrow  and  faint.  Indeed,  with  (.'hrist  it  can  scarcely 
be  conceived  to  have  existed  at  such  a  moment.  The  ])ast,tlie  present, 
and  the  future  must  have  been  open  before  Him  like  a  map  unrolling. 
Shall  we  venture  to  say  that  such  a  vision  was  only  inward,  and  not 
outwardly  and  objectively  real?  In  truth  we  are  using  terms  Avhich 
have  no  application  to  Christ.  If  we  may  venture  once  more  to  speak 
in  this  wise  of  the  Divine  Being:  With  Him  what  we  view  as  the 
opposite  poles  of  subjective  and  objective  are  absolutely  one.  To  go 
a  step  further:  many  even  of  our  temi)tations  are  only  (contrastedly) 
inward,  for  these  two  reasons,  that  they  have  their  basis  or  else  their 
point  of  contact  within  us,  and  that  from  the  limitations  of  our  bodily 
condition  we  do  not  see  the  enemy,  nor  can  take  active  part  in  the 
scene  around.  But  in  both  respects  it  was  not  so  with  the  Christ. 
If  this  ])e  so,  the  whole  question  seems  almost  irrelevant,  and  the  dis- 
tinction oi outward  and  inward  inapplicable  to  the  present  case.  Or 
rather,  we  must  keep  by  these  two  landmarks:  First,  it  Avas  not  in- 
ward in  the  sense  of  being  merely  subjective;  but  it  was  all  real — a 
real  assault  by  a  real  Satan,  really  under  these  three  forms,  and  it  con- 
stituted a  real  Temptation  to  Christ.  Secondly,  it  was  not  merely 
outward  in  the  sense  of  l)eing  only  a  present  assault  l)y  Satan;  Init  it 
must  have  reached  beyond  the  outward  into  the  inward,  and  have  had 
for  its  further  object  that  of  influencing  the  future  Work  of  Christ,  as 
it  stood  out  ])efore  His  Mind. 

A  still  more  difficult  and  solemn  question  is  this:  In  what  respect 
could  Jesus  Christ,  the  Perfect  Sinless  Man,  the  Son  of  God,  have 
been  tempted  of  the  Devil?  That  He  was  so  tempted  is  of  the  very 
essence  of  this  narrative,  confirmed  throughout  His  after-life,  and 
laid  down  as  a  fundamental  principle  in  the  teaching  and  faith  of  the 
Church.''  On  the  other  hand,  temptation  without  the  inward  corre-  »Heb.  iv. 
spondence  of  existent  sin  is  not  only  unthinkable,  so  far  as  man  is 
concerned,"  but  temptation  without  the  possibility  of  sin  seems  unreal  ^^^^^  James 
— a  kind  of  Docetism.^     Yet  the  very  passage  of  Holy  Scripture  in 

'  The  heres}'  which  represents  the  Body  of  Christ  as  only  apparent,  not  real. 


15 

b  St.  James 
i.  14 


298  FROM   JOUDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      wliich  Christ's  equality  witliiis  as  regards  all  temptation  is  expressed, 
III        also  emi)liatically  excepts  from  it  this  one  particular  sin,^  not  only  in 

^- — -, '   the  sense  that  Christ  actually  did  not  sin,  nor  merely  in  this,  that  ^our 

»^Hebr.  iv.  coucupisceuce  '"  had  no  part  in  His  temptations,  but  emphatically  in 
this  also,  that  the  notion  of  sin  has  to  be  wholly  excluded  from  our 
thoughts  of  Christ's  temptations.' 

To  obtain,  if  we  can,  a  clearer  understanding  of  this  subject,  two 
points  must  be  kept  in  view.  Christ's  was  real,  thougli  unfaJlen 
Human  Nature;  and  Christ's  Human  was  in  inseparable  union  with 
His  Divine  Nature.  We  are  not  attempting  to  explain  these  mysteries, 
nor  at  present  to  vindicate  them;  we  are  only  arguing  from  the 
standpoint  of  the  Gospels  and  of  Apostolic  teaching,  which  proceeds 
on  these  premisses — and  proceeding  on  them,  we  are  trying  to  under- 
stand the  Temptation  of  Christ.  Now  it  is  clear,  that  human  nature, 
that  of  Adam  before  his  fall,  was  created  botli  sinless  and  i)eccable. 
If  Christ's  Human  Nature  was  not  like  ours,  but,  morally,  like  that 
of  Adam  before  his  fall,  then  must  it  likewise  have  been  both  sinless 
and  in  itself  peccable.  We  say,  in  itself — for  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  the  statement  that  human  nature,  as  Adam  and 
Christ  had  it,  was  capable  of  sinning,  and  this  other,  that  Christ 
was  peccable.  From  the  latter  the  Christian  mind  instinctively  re- 
coils, even  as  it  is  metaphysically  impossible  to  imagine  the  Son  of 
God  pecca])le.  Jesus  voluntarily  took  upon  Himself  human  nature 
witli  all  its  infirmities  and  weaknesses — but  without  the  moral  taint  of 
the  Fall:  without  sin.  It  was  human  nature,  in  itself  capable  of  sin- 
ning, but  not  having  sinned.  If  He  was  absolutely  sinless.  He  must 
have  been  unfallen.  The  position  of  the  first  Adam  was  that  of  being 
capable  of  not  sinning,  not  that  of  being  incapable  of  sinning.  The  Sec- 
ond Adam  also  had  a  nature  capable  of  not  sinning,  but  not  incapable 
of  sinning.  This  explains  the  possil)ility  of '  temptation '  or  assault  upon 
Him,  just  as  Adam  could  be  tempted  before  there  was  in  him  any  in- 
ward consensus  to  it.'^  The  first  Adam  would  have  been  'perfected  ' — 
or  passed  from  the  capability  of  not  sinning  to  the  incapability  of  sin- 
ning— by  obedience.  That  '  obedience  ' — or  absolute  submission  to  the 
Will  of  God — was  the  grand  outstanding  characteristic  of  Christ's  work; 

1  Comp.  Richm,   Lehrbegr.   d.    Hebr.  the  same  level  with  us  in  regard  to  all 

Br.  p.  364.     But  I  cannot  agree  with  the  temptations  have  been  exempt  from  sin? 

views  which  this  learned  theologian  ex-  '■^  The    latter  was    already  sin.      Yet 

presses.     Indeed,  it  seems  to  me  that  he  '  temptation  '   means    more  than    mere 

does  not  meet  the  real  difficulties  of  the  '  assault.'     There    may  be    conditional 

question ;  on  the  contrary,  rather  aggra-  mental  assensus  without  moral  consen- 

vates  them.    They  lie  in  this:  How  could  siis — and   so    temptation    without    sin. 

One  Who  (according  to  Riehm)  stood  on  See  p.  301,  note. 


A   PECCABLE   NATURE   BUT   AN   Bll'ECCABLE   PEKSON.  299 

but  it  was  so,  because  He  was  not  only  the  Unsinning-,  Unlallen  Man, 
but  also  the  Son  of  God.  Because  God  was  His  Fatlier,  thoretbic  He 
must  be  about  His  Business,  which  was  to  do  the  Will  ol'  His  Father. 
With  a  peccal)le  Human  Nature  He  was  impeccable;  not  because  He 
obeyed,  l)ut  being  iuipeccable  He  so  obeyed,  because  His  Hunum  was 
insei)arably  connected  with  His  Divine  Nature.  To  keep  this  Union 
of  the  two  Natures  out  of  view  would  be  Nestorianism.'  To  sum  up: 
The  Second  Adam,  morally  unfallen,  though  voluntarily  subject  to  all 
the  conditions  of  our  Nature,  was,  with  a  peccable  Human  Nature, 
absolutely  impeccal)le  as  being-  also  the  Son  of  God — a  peccable 
Nature,  yet  an  impeccable  Person:  the  God-Man,  'tempted  in  re- 
gard to  all  (things)  in  like  manner  (as  we),  without  (excepting)  sin.' 

All  this  sounds,  after  all,  like  the  stammering  of  Divine  words 
by  a  babe,  and  yet  it  may  in  some  measure  help  us  to  understand  the 
character  of  Christ's  first  great  Temi)tation. 

Before  proceeding,  a  few  sentences  arc  required  in  explanation  of 
seeming  dittcrences  in  the  Evangelic  narration  of  the  event.  The 
historical  part  of  St.  John's  Gospel  begins  after  the  Temptation — that 
is,  with  the  actual  Ministry  of  Christ;  since  it  was  not  within  the 
purport  of  that  work  to  detail  the  earlier  history.  That  had  been 
sufficiently  done  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels.  Impartial  and  serious 
critics  will  admit  that  these  are  in  accord.  For,  if  St.  Mark  only 
summarises,  in  his  own  brief  manner,  he  supplies  the  two-fold  notice 
that  Jesus  was  '  driven  '  into  the  wilderness,  •  and  was  with  the  wild 
beasts,'  which  is  in  fullest  internal  agreement  with  the  detailed  nar- 
ratives of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Luke.  The  only  noteworthy  difference 
between  these  two  is,  that  St.  Matthew  places  the  Temple-temptation 
before  that  of  the  world-kingdom,  while  St.  Luke  inverts  this  order, 
probably  because  his  narrative  was  primarily  intended  for  Gentile 
readers,  to  whose  mind  this  might  present  itself  as  to  them  the  true 
gradation  of  temptation.  To  St.  Matthew  we  owe  the  notice,  that 
after  the  Temptation  '  Angels  came  and  ministered  '  unto  Jesus;  to 
St.  Luke,  that  the  Tempter  only  '  departed  from  Him  for  a  season. ' 

To  restate  in  order  our  former  conclusions,  Jesus  had  deliberately, 
of  His  own  accord  and  of  set  firm  purpose,  gone  to  be  baptized.  That 
one  grand  outstanding  fact  of  His  early  life,  that  He  must  be  about 
His  Father's  Business,  had  found  its  explanation  when  He  knew  that 
the  Baptist's  cry,  'the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is  at  hand,'  was  from  God. 
His  Father's  Business,  then,  was  'the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,'  and  to  it 

1  The  heresy  which  unduly  separated  the  two  Natures. 


300  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

isoOK      He  consecrated  Himself,    so  fulfilling  all  righteousness.     But  His 
Jll         'being  about  it'  was  quite  other  than  that  of  any  Israelite,  however 

"- — ~Y  '  devout,  wlio  came  to  Jordan,  It  was  His  consecration,  not  on!}"  to 
the  Kingdom,  but  to  the  Kingship,  in  the  anointing  and  iternianent 
possession  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  in  His  proclamation  from  heaven. 
That  Kingdom  was  His  Father's  Business;  its  Kingship,  the  manner 
in  which  He  was  to  l)e  '  a1)()ut  it.'  The  next  step  was  not,  like  the 
first,  voluntary,  and  of  preconceived  purpose.  Jesus  went  to  Jordan; 
He  was  driven  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness.  Not,  indeed,  in  the 
sense  of  His  being  unwilling  to  go,'  or  having  had  other  purpose, 
such  as  that  of  immediate  return  into  Galilee,  but  in  that  of  not  being 
willing,  of  having  no  will  or  purpose  in  the  nuitter,  but  being  '  led 
up,'  unconscious  of  its  i^urpose,  with  irresistible  force,  l)y  the  Spirit. 
In  that  wilderness  He  had  to  test  what  He  had  learned,  and  to  learn 
what  He  had  tested.  So  would  He  have  full  proof  for  His  Work  of 
the  What — His  Call  and  Kingship;  so  would  He  see  its  Hoiv — the 
manner  of  it;  so,  also,  would,  from  the  outset,  the  final  issue  of  His 
AVork  appear. 

Again — banishing  from  our  minds  all  thought  of  sin  in  connection 

^Hebr.  iv.  with  Christ's  Temptation,''  He  is  presented  to  us  as  the  Second  Adam, 
both  as  regarded  Plimself,  and  His  relation  to  man.  In  these  two 
respects,  which,  indeed,  are  one.  He  is  now  to  be  ti'ied.  Like  the  first, 
the  Second  Adam,  sinless,  is  to  be  tempted,  but  under  the  existing 
conditions  of  the  Fall:  in  the  wilderness,  not  in  P]den;  not  in  the 
enjoyment  of  all  good,  but  in  the  pressing  want  of  all  that  is  neces- 
sary for  the  sustenance  of  life,  and  in  the  felt  weakness  consequent 
upon  it.  For  (unlike  the  first)  the  Second  Adam  was,  in  His  Tempta- 
tion, to  be  placed  on  an  al^solute  equality  Avith  us,  except  as  regarded 
sin.  Yet  even  so,  there  must  have  l)een  some  point  of  inward  con- 
nection to  make  the  outward  assault  a  temptation.  It  is  here  that 
opponents  (such  as  Strauss  and  Keim)  have  strangely  missed  the 
mark,  when  objecting,  either  that  the  forty  days'  fast  was  intrinsically 
unnecessary,  or  that  the  assaults  of  Satan  were  clumsy  suggestions, in- 
capable of  being  temptations  to  Jesus.  He  is  <  driven '  into  the 
wilderness  by  the  Spirit  to  be  tempted.^    The  history  of  humanity 

1  This  is  evident- even  from  the  terms  Mark  seems  to  imply  some  human  shriiik- 

used   by  St.  Matthew  (dvifx^V)  ^"'1  ^f-  i".^  *^'i  W\s,  part — at  least  at  the  outset. 

Luke   [ijyfTo).     I    cannot    agree    with  -  The  place  of  the  Temi)tation  could 

Go(M.  tiiat  Jesus  would   have   been  in-  not,  of  course,  have  been  tlie  traditional 

clined   to   return   to  Galilee   tvnd  begin  '  Quarantaiiia,' but  must  have  been  neai' 

teaching.     Jesus  had  no  in(;]ination  save  Bethabara.    See  also  >S^art^e?/'s  Siuai  and 

this— to  do  the  AVill  of  Mis  Father.    And  Palestine,  p.  308. 
yet  the  expression  '  driven  '  used  by  St. 


THE   CONDITIONS   OF   THE   TEMPTATION.  301 

is  taken  up  anew  at  the  point  where  lirst  the  kingdom  of  Satan  was     cilAP. 
lounUed,  only  under  new  eonditions.      It  is  not  now  a- ehoice,  but  a  I 

contest,  for  Sivtan  is  the  prince  of  tliis  world.  During  the  Avliole  ' — ^-r — • 
forty  days  of  Christ's  stay  in  the  wilderness  His  Teini)tation  continued, 
though  it  only  attained  its  high  point  at  the  last,  when,  after  the  long 
fast,  He  felt  tlu;  weariness  and  weakness  of  hunger.  As  fasting  oc- 
cupies but  a  very  subordinate,  we  might  almost  say  a  tolerated,  place 
in  the  teaching  of  Jesus;  and  as,  so  far  as  we  know,  lie  exercised  on 
no  other  occasion  such  ascetic  practices,  we  are  lelt  to  infer  internal, 
as  well  as  external,  necessity  for  it  in  the  present  instance.  The  for- 
mer is  easily  understood  in  His  pre-occupation ;  the  latter  must  have 
had  for  its  object  to  reduce  Him  to  utmost  outward  weakness,  by  the 
depression  of  all  the  vital  powers.  We  regard  it  as  a  psychological 
fact  that,  under  such  circumstances,  of  all  mental  faculties  the  memory 
alone  is  active,  indeed,  almost  preternaturally  active.  During  the 
preceding  thirty-nine  days  the  plan,  or  rather  the  future,  of  the  Work 
to  which  He  had  been  consecrated,  must  have  been  always  before  Him. 
In  this  respect,  then,  He  must  have  been  tempted.  It  is  wholly  im- 
possible tliat  He  hesitated  for  a  moment  as  to  the  means  by  which  He 
was  to  establish  the  Kingdom  of  God.  He  could  not  have  felt  tempted 
to  adopt  carnal  means,  opposed  to  the  nature  of  that  Kingdom,  and 
to  the  Will  of  God.  The  unchangeable  convictions  which  He  had 
already  attained  must  have  stood  out  before  Him:  that  His  Father's 
business  was  the  Kingdom  of  God;  that  He  was  furnished  to  it,  not 
by  outward  weapons,  but  by  the  abiding  Presence  of  the  Spirit; 
above  all,  that  absolute  submission  to  the  Will  of  God  was  the  way  to 
it,  nay,  itself  the  Kingdom  of  God.  It  will  be  observed,  that  it  was 
on  these  very  points  that  the  final  attack  of  the  Enemy  was  directed 
in  the  utmost  weakness  of  Jesus.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Tempter 
could  not  have  failed  to  assault  Him  with  considerations  which  He 
must  have  felt  to  be  true.  How  could  He  hope,  alone,  and  with  such 
principles,  to  stand  against  Israel?  He  knew  their  views  and  feel- 
ings; and  as,  day  by  day,  the  sense  of  utter  loneliness  and  forsaken- 
ness increasingly  gathered  around  Him,  in  His  increasing  faintness 
and  weakness,  the  seeming  hopelessness  of  such  a  task  as  He  had 
undertaken  must  have  grown  upon  Him  with  almost  overwhelming- 
power.^  Alternately,  the  temptation  to  despair,  presumption,  or  the 
cutting  short  of  the  contest  in  some  decisive  manner,  must  have 

1  It  was  this  which  would  make  the  tal  assensus — without  impiyiiifj  any  in- 

'  assault'  a  'temptation'  by  vividly  set-  ward  ro»A"e;^f;^s■  to  tlie  manner  in  which 

tin.iz;  l)efore  the  mind  tiie  reality  and  ra-  the  Enemy  proposed  to  liave  them  set 

tionality  of  these  considerations — a  men-  aside. 


302  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  I'l'cscntcd  itself  to  Hi.s  mind,  or  rather  have  ])ecn  presented  to  it  by 
III  the  Tempter. 
-_--Y-.:^  And  tliis  was,  indeed,  the  essence  of  His  last  three  great  tempta- 
tions; which,  as  the  whole  contest,  resolved  themselves  into  the  one 
question  of  absolute  submission  to  the  Will  of  God,'  which  is  the  sum 
and  substance  of  all  obedience.  If  He  submitted  to  it,  it  must  be 
suft'ering,  and  only  suffering — helpless,  hopeless  suffering  to  the  bitter 
end;  to  the  extinction  of  life,  in  the  agonies  of  the  Cross,  as  a  male- 
factor; denounced,  betrayed,  rejected  by  His  people;  alone,  in  very 
God-forsakenness.  And  when  thus  beaten  about  by  temptation.  His 
powers  reduced  to  the  lowest  ebb  of  faintness,  all  the  more  vividly 
would  memory  hold  out  the  facts  so  well  known,  so  keenly  realised  at 
that  moment,  in  the  almost  utter  cessation  of  every  other  mental 
faculty:'  the  scene  lately  enacted  by  the  banks  of  Jordan,  and  the  two 
great  expectations  of  His  own  people,  that  the  Messiah  was  to  head 
Israel  from  the  Sanctuary  of  the  Temple,  anil  that  all  kingdoms  of  the 
world  were  to  become  subject  to  Him.  Here,  then,  is  the  inward 
basis  of  the  Temptation  of  Christ,  in  which  the  fast  was  not  unneces- 
sary, nor  yet  the  special  assaults  of  the  Enemy  either  '  clumsy  sug- 
gestions,' or  unworthy  of  Jesus. 

He  is  weary  with  the  contest,  faint  with  hunger,  alone  in  that 
wilderness.  His  voice  falls  on  no  sympathising  ear;  no  voice  reaches 
Him  but  that  of  the  Tempter.  There  is  nothing  l)racing,  strengthen- 
ing in  this  featureless,  l)arren,  stony  wilderness — only  the  i)icturc  of 
desolateness,  hopelessness,  despair.  He  must.  He  will  absolutely 
submit  to  the  Will  of  God.  But  can  this  be  the  Will  of  God?  One 
word  of  i)ower,  and  the  scene  would  be  changed.  Let  Him  despair 
of  all  men,  of  everything — He  can  do  it.  By  His  Will  the  Son  of  God, 
as  the  Tempter  suggests — not,  however,  calling  thereby  in  question 
His  Sonship,  but  rather  proceeding  on  its  admitted  reality' — can 
change  the  stones  into  bread.  He  can  do  miracles — put  an  end  to 
present  want  and  question,  and,  as  visibly  the  possessor  of  absolute 
miraculous  power,  the  goal  is  reached!  But  this  would  really  have 
been  to  change  the  idea  of  Old  Testament  miracle  into  the  heathen 
conception  of  magic,  which  was  absolute  power  inherent  in  an  indi- 

1  All  the  assaults  of  Satan  were  really  vividly  in  Christ's  memory  at  that  mo- 
directed  against  Christ's  absolute  sub-  ment,  that  was  flashed  before  Him  as  in 
mission  to  the  Will  of  God,  which  was  a  mirror  under  tlie  dazzling  light  of 
His  Perfectness.     Hence,  by  every  one  of  temptation. 

these  temi)tations,  as   Weiss  saj's  in  re-         ^  Satan's  'if  was  rather  a  taunt  than 

gard  to  the  first,  '  rilttelt  er  an  Seiner  a  doubt.     Nor  could  it  have  been    in- 

Vollkonimenheit.''  tended  to  call  in  ([uestion  His  ability  to 

'•^  I  regard  the  memory  as  affording  the  do  miracles.     Doubt  m\  tliat  point  would 

basis  for  the  Temptation,     What  was  so  alreaily  have  been  a  fall. 


THE   FIRST,    AND   TIIP]   SECOND   TEMPTxVTlON.  303 

vidua),  without  moral  purixjso.     The  uu)i'al  i)urpoi5C — the  <;:rau(l  luoi'al      riLvr. 
purpose  in  all  that  was  ol'  Uod — was  al)solute  submission  to  the  ^^'ill  l 

of  God.     His  Spirit  had  driven  Him  into  that  wilderness.     His  cir-  ^~ — . ' 

cumstauees  were  God-appointed;  and  where  He  so  appoints  them, 
He  will  support  us  in  them,  even  as,  in  the  failure  of  l)read,  He  sup- 
ported Israel  by  the  manna.'''  And  Jesus  absolutely  submitted  to  ^Deut.viu. 
that  Will  of  God  by  continuing  in  His  present  circumstances.  To 
have  set  himself  free  from  what  they  implied,  would  have  been  despai7' 
of  God,  and  rebellion.  He  does  more  than  not  succumb:  He  conquers. 
The  Scri^jtural  reference  to  a  better  life  upon  the  Word  of  God  marks 
more  than  the  end  of  the  contest;  it  marks  the  conquest  of  Satan. 
He  emerges  on  the  other  side  triumphant,  with  this  expression  of  His 
assured  conviction  of  the  sufficiency  of  God. 

It  cannot  be  despair — and  He  cannot  take  up  His  Kingdom  alone, 
in  the  exercise  of  mere  power!  Absolutely  submitting  to  the  Will 
of  God,  He  must,  and  He  can,  absolutely  trust  Him.  But  if  so,  then 
let  Him  really  trust  Himself  u])on  God,  and  make  experiment — nay 
more,  public  demonstration — of  it.  If  it  be  not  despair  of  God,  let 
it  be  presumption !  He  will  not  do  the  work  alone !  Then  God-up- 
borne, according  to  His  promise,  let  the  Son  of  God  suddenly,  from 
that  height,  descend  and  head  His  people,  and  that  not  in  any  profane 
manner,  but  in  the  midst  of  the  Sanctuary,  where  God  w^as  specially 
near,  in  sight  of  incensing  priests  and  worshipping  people.  So  also 
will  the  goal  at  once  be  reached. 

The  Spirit  of  God  had  driven  Jesus  into  the  wilderness;  the  spirit 
of  the  Devil  now  carried  Him  to  Jerusalem,  Jesus  stands  on  the  lofty 
l)innacle  of  the  Tower,  or  of  the  Temple-porch,^  presumably  that  on 
which  every  day  a  Priest  was  stationed  to  watch,  as  the  pale  morning 
light  passed  over  the  hills  of  Judsea  far  off  to  Hebron,  to  announce  it  as 
the  signal  for  offering  the  morning  sacrifice.^  If  we  might  indulge  our 
imagination,  the  moment  chosen  would  be  just  as  the  Priest  had  quitted 

1  The  suijply  of  tlie  niamia  was  only  the  Sanctuary,  where  indeed  tliere  would 

an  exemplification  and  application  of  tlie  scarcely  have  been   standin<t-rooni.     It 

general  i)rinciple,  that  man  really  lives  certainly  formed  the  watch-jmst  of  the 

by  the  AVord  of  God.  Priest.    Possibly  it  may  have  been  the 

'^  It  cannot  be  regarded  as  certain,  that  extreme  corner  of  tlie  '  wing-like '  porch, 

the  TtTFpvyiov  rov  iepov  was,  as  com-  or  uhim,  which  led  into  the  Sanctuarj'. 

mentators  generally  suppose,  the  Tower  Thence  a  Priest  could  easily  luive  com- 

at  the  southeastern  angle  of  the  Temple  municated  with  his  brethren  in  the  court 

Cloisters,  where  the  Royal  (southern)  and  beneath.    To  this  there  is,  however,  tlu^ 

Solomon's  (the  eastern")  Porch  met,  and  objection  that  in  that  case  it  should  have 

whence  the  view  into  the  Kedron  Valley  been  rov  vaov.    At  p.  244,  the  ordinary 

beneath  was  to  the  stupendous  deiitli  of  view  of  this  locality  has  been  taken. 

450  feet.     Would  this  angle  be  called  '  a  ■'  Comp.  '  The  Temple,  its  Ministry  and 

wing'  {■itTEf3vyiov)t   Nor  can  I  agree  Services,' p.  132. 
with  Delitzsch,  that  it  was  the  '  roof '  of 


30J  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

liOOK      that  station.    The  first  desort-tcinptation  had  been  in  thegrey  ofhivak- 
in         ing  light,  wlicn  to  the  faint  and  weary  looker  the  stones  of  the  wildcr- 

^- — ^ '   ness  seemed  to  take  fantastic  shapes,  like  the  l)read  for  which  the  faint 

body  hungered.  In  the  next  tenijjtation  Jesus  stands  on  the  watcli-i)ost 
which  the  white-robed  priest  had  just  quitted.  Fast  the  rosy  morning- 
light,  deepening  into  crimson,  and  edged  with  gold,  is  spreading  over 
the  land.  In  the  Priests'  Court  ])elow  Him  the  morning-sacrifice  has 
been  offered.  The  massive  Temple-gates  are  slowly  opening,  and  the 
blasts  of  tlie  priests'  silver  trumpets  is  summoning  Israel  to  begin  a 
new  day  by  appearing  before  their  Lord.  Now  then  let  Him  descend, 
Heaven-borne,  into  the  nndst  of  priests  and  people.  What  shouts  of 
acclamation  would  greet  His  appearance!  What  homage  of  worship 
would  be  His!  The  goal  can  at  once  be  reached,  and  that  at  the 
head  of  believing  Israel.  Jesus  is  surveying  the  scene.  By  His 
side  is  the  Tempter,  watching  the  features  that  mark  the  work- 
ing of  the  spirit  within.  And  now  he  has  whispered  it.  Jesus 
had  overcome  in  the  first  temptation  by  simple,  absolute  trust. 
This  was  the  time,  and  this  the  place  to  act  upon  this  trust,  even  as 
the  very  Scriptures  to  which  Jesus  had  appealed  warranted.  But 
so  to  have  done  would  have  been  not  trust — far  less  the  heroism 
of  faith — but  presumption.  The  goal  might  indeed  have  been  reached; 
but  not  the  Divine  goal,  nor  in  God's  way — and,  as  so  often. 
Scripture  itself  explained  and  guarded  the  Divine  promise  by  a 
preceding  Divine  command.^  And  thus  once  more  Jesus  not  only  is 
not  overcome,  but  He  overcomes  by  absolute  sulimission  to  the  Will 
of  God. 

To  submit  to  the  Will  of  God!  But  is  not  this  to  acknowledge 
His  authority,  and  the  order  and  disposition  which  He  has  made  of 
all  things?  Once  more  the  scene  changes.  They  have  tui-ned  their 
back  upon  Jerusalem  and  the  Temjile.  Behind  are  also  all  popular 
prejudices,  narrow  nationalism,   and  limitations.     They   no   longer 

1  Benrfpl:    '  Scriptura  per  Scripturam  to   quote   a  verse.     The    child    quoted 

iiiterpretanda  et  coucilianda.'     This  is  Deut.    xiv.   22,    at  the  same   time  pro- 

also  a  Rabbinic  canon.    The  Rabbis  fre-  poundini;  the  question,  why  the  second 

quently  insist  on  the  duty  of  not  expos-  clause  virtually  repeated  the  first.    The 

ing  oneself  to  danger,  in  presumptuous  Rabbi  replied.  'To  leach  us  that  the giv- 

expectation   of  miraculous   deliverance.  ing  of  tithes  maketh  rich.'    '  How  do  you 

It  is  a  curious  sayins;:  Do  not  stand  over  know  it  ? '  askeil  the  child.    '  By  ex])eri- 

against  an  ox  when  he  comes  from  the  ence,'  answered  the  Rabbi.   'But.'  said 

fodder;  Satan  jumps  out  from  between  the  child,  '  such  experiment  is  not  lawful, 

his  horns.    (Pes.  112  6.)   David  had  been  since  we  are  not  to  teni])t  the  Lonl  our 

presumptuous  in  Ps.  xxvi.  2 — and  failed.  God.'    (See    the   very   curious  book   of 

(Sanh.   107  n.)    But  the  most  aiit  illus-  Ral)bi    So  on-eyczrjk.  Die  Bibel,  d.  Talm. 

tration  is  this:  On  one  occasion  the  child  u.  d.  Evang.  p.  \?>'l.) 
(jf  a  Rabbi  was  asked  by  R.   Jochanan 


THE   THIRD   TEMTTATIOxV.  30^ 

breathe  the  stifled  air,  thick  with  the  perfume  of  incense.     They     chap. 
have  taken  their  flight  into  God's  wide  world.     There  they  stand  on  i 

the  top  of  some  very  high  mountain.  It  is  in  the  full  blaze  of  sun-  ^- — ~~.^ — 
light  that  He  now  gazes  upon  a  wondrous  scene.  ]3efore  Him  rise, 
from  out  the  cloud-land  at  the  edge  of  the  horizon,  forms,  figures, 
scenes^come  words,  sounds,  harmonies.  The  world  in  all  its  glory, 
beauty,  strength,  majesty,  is  unveiled.  Its  work,  its  might,  its 
greatness,  its  art,  its  thought,  emerge  into  clear  view.  And  still  the 
horizon  i?eems  to  widen  as  He  gazes;  and  more  and  more,  and  beyond 
it  still  more  and  still  brighter  appears.  It  is  a  world  quite  other 
than  that  which  the  retiring  Son  of  the  retired  Xazareth-home  had 
ever  seen,  could  ever  have  imagined,  that  opens  its  enlarging 
Avonders.  To  us  in  the  circumstances  the  temptation,  which  at  first 
sight  seems,  so  to  speak,  the  clumsiest,  would  have  been  well  nigh 
irresistible.  In  measure  as  our  intellect  was  enlarged,  our  heart 
attuned  to  this  world-melody,  we  would  have  gazed  with  bewitched 
wonderment  on  that  sight,  surrendered  ourselves  to  tlie  harmony  of 
those  sounds,  and  quenched  the  thirst  of  our  soul  with  maddening 
draught.  But  passively  sul)lime  as  it  must  have  appeared  to  the 
Perfect  Man,  the  God-Man — and  to  Him  far  more  than  to  us  from 
His  infinitely  deeper  appreciation  of,  and  wider  sympathy  with  the 
good,  the  true,  and  the  beautiful — He  had  already  overcome.  It  was, 
indeed,  not  '  worship,"  but  homage  which  the  Evil  One  claimed  from 
Jesus,  and  that  on  the  truly  stated  and  apparently  rational  ground, 
that,  in  its  present  state,  all  this  world  'was  delivered '  unto  him,  and 
he  exercised  the  power  of  giving  it  to  whom  he  would.  But  in  this 
very  fact  lay  tlie  answer  to  the  suggestion.  High  above  this  moving 
scene  of  glory  and  beauty  arched  the  deep  blue  of  God's  heaven, 
and  brighter  than  the  sun,  which  poured  its  light  over  the  sheen 
and  dazzle  lieneath,  stood  out  the  fact:  'I  must  be  about  My 
Fatlier"s  l»iisiness:"  above  the  din  of  far-ofi'  sounds  rose  the  voice: 
'Thy  Kingdom  come!'  Was  not  all  this  the  Devil's  to  have  and  to 
give,  ])ecause  it  was  not  the  Father's  Kingdom,  to  which  Jesus  had 
consecrated  Himself?  What  Satan  sought  was,  '  ]\Iy  kingdom  come' 
— a  Satanic  Messianic  time,  a  Satanic  Messiah;  the  final  realisation 
of  an  enqiire  of  which  his  present  i:)OSsession  was  only  temporary, 
caused  by  the  alienation  of  man  IVoni  God.  To  destroy  all  this:  to 
destroy  the  works  of  the  Devil,  to  abolish  his  kingdom,  to  set  man 
free  from  Ids  dominion,  was  the  very  object  of  Christ's  Mission.  On 
the  ruins  of  tlie  past  shall  tlie  new  arise,  in  jjroportions  of  grandeur 
and  beauty  hitherto  unseen,  only  gazed  at  afar  by  pro})liets'  rapt  sight. 


;j()(]  FliOM   JORDAN    TO   THK   ^r(>^^'T   OF  TRANSFIOrUATION. 

BOOK      It  is  to  Ix'coiue  the  Kingdom  of  God;  and  Christ's  consecration  to  it 
III        is  to  be  the  corner-stone  of  its  new  Te)ni)le.     Those  scenes  are  to  be 

^-^-v^^  transformed  into  one  of  higher  worship;  those  sounds  to  mingle 
and  melt  into  a  melody  of  praise.  An  endless  train,  unnumbered 
multitudes  from  afar,  are  to  bring  their  gifts,  to  pour  their  wealth,  to 
consecrate  their  wisdom,  to  dedicate  their  beauty — to  lay  it  all  in 
lowly  worship  as  humble  offering  at  His  feet:  a  world  God-restored, 
God-dedicated,  in  which  dwells  God's  peace,  over  which  rests  God's 
glory.  It  is  to  be  the  bringing  of  worship,  not  the  crowning 
of  rebellion,  which  is  the  Kingdom.  And  so  Satan's  greatest  be- 
comes to  Christ  his  coarsest  temptation,'  which  He  casts  from  Him; 
and  the  words:  'Thou  shalt  worship  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  Him 
only  shalt  thou  serve,'  whicli  now  receive  their  highest  fulfilment, 
mark  not  only  Satan's  defeat  and  Christ's  triumph,  but  the  principle 
of  His  Kingdom — of  all  victory  and  all  triumph. 

Foiled,  defeated,  the  Enemy  has  spread  his  dark  pinions  towards 
that  far-oft' world  of  his,  and  covered  it  with  their  shadow.  The  sun  no 
longer  glows  with  melting  heat;  tlie  mists  have  gathered  on  the  edge 
of  the  horizon,  and  enwra])ped  tlic  scene  wliidi  has  faded  from  view. 
And  in  the  cool  and  shade  that  followed  have  the  Angels'^  come  and 
ministered  to  His  wants,  both  bodily  and  mental.  He  has  refused 
to  assert  power;  He  has  not  yiehU-d  to  despair;  He  would  not  fight 
and  conquer  alone  in  His  own  strength;  and  He  has  received  power 
and  refreshment,  and  Heaven's  company  unnumbered  in  their  ministry 
of  worship.  He  would  not  yield  to  Jewish  dream;  He  did  not  pass 
from  despair  to  presumption;  and  lo,  ai'ter  the  contest,  with  no 
reward  as  its  object,  all  is  His.  He  wouhl  not  have  Satan's  vassals 
as  His  legions,  and  all  Heaven's  hosts  are  at  His  command.  It  had 
been  victor}^;  it  is  now  shout  of  triumphant  ])raise.  He  Whom  (Jod 
had  anointed  by  His  Spirit  had  conquered  by  the  Spirit;  He  Whom 
Heaven's  Voice  had  proclaimed  God's  beloved  Son,  in  Whom  He 
was  well  pleased,  had  proved  such,  and  done  His  good  pleasure. 

They  had  been  all  overcome,  these  three  temptations  against 
submission  to  the  ATill  of  God,  present,  personal,  and  specifically 
Messianic.     Yet  all  His  life  long  there  were  echoes  of  them:  of  the 

'St. John  first,  in  the  suggestion  of  His  brethren  to  show  Himself;''  of  the 
second,  in  the  popular  attempt  to  make  Him  a  king,  and  perhaps 
also  in  what  constituted  the  final  idea  of  Judas  Iscariot;   of  the 

1  Sin  always  intensifies  in  the  coarse-      and  Demonology,  see  Appendix  XIII. : 
ness  of  its  assaults.  'Jewish  Angelolo^y  and  Demonolo,2;y.' 

^  For  the  Jewish  views  on  Angelology 


THE   VICTORY.  307 

third,  as  being  most  plainly  Satanic,  in  tlie  question  of  Pilate:  <  Art     CHAP. 
Thou  then  a  king? '  I 

The  enemy  'departed  from  Him  ' — yet  only  'for  a  season.'  But  ^— ^r-^ — -" 
this  first  contest  and  victory  of  Jesus  decided  all  others  to  the  last. 
These  were,  perhaps  not  as  to  the  shaping  of  His  Messianic  plan,nor 
through  memory  of  Jewish  expectancy,  yet  still  in  sul)stance  the 
same  contest  about  absolute  obedience,  absolute  submission  to  the 
Will  of  God,  which  constitutes  the  Kingdom  of  God.  And  so  also 
from  first  to  last  was  this  the  victory:  'Not  My  will,  but  Thine,  be 
done.'  But  as,  in  the  first  three  petitions  which  He  has  taught  us, 
Christ  has  enfolded  us  in  the  mantle  of  His  royalty,  so  has  He  Who 
shared  our  nature  and  our  temptations  gone  up  with  us,  want-pressed, 
sin-laden,  and  temptation-stricken  as  we  are,  to  the  Mount  of 
Temptation  in  the  four  human  petitions  which  follow  the  first. 
And  over  us  is  spread,  as  the  sheltering  folds  of  His  mantle,  this  as 
the  outcome  of  His  royal  contest  and  glorious  victory,  '  For  Thine 
is  the  Kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the  glory,  for  ever  and  ever! '  ^ 

^  This  quotation  of  the  Doxology  leaves,       niinetl,  whether  the  words  were  part  of 
of  course,  the  critical  question  uudeter-      the  '  Lord's  Prayer '  iu  its  original  form. 


308  Vmm   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE  DEPUTATION  FROM  JERUSALEM — THE  THREE  SECTS  OF  THE  PHARI- 
SEES, SADDUCEES,  AND  ESSENES — EXAMINATION  OF  THEIR  DISTINC- 
TIVE   DOCTRINES.^ 

(St.  John  i.  10-24.) 

BOOK      Apart  from  the  repulsively  carnal  I'oriii  which  it  had  taken,  there  is 
III        something  absolutely   sublime   in  the   continuance  and  intensity  of 

- — -r — '  the  Jewish  expectation  of  the  Messiah.  It  outlived  not  only  the 
delay  of  long  centuries,  but  the  persecutions  and  scattering  of  the 
people;  it  continued  under  the  disappointment  of  the  Maccabees, 
the  rule  of  a  Herod,  the  administration  of  a  corrupt  and  contemptible 
Priesthood,  and,  finally,  the  government  of  Rome  as  represented  by 
a  Pilate;  nay,  it  grew  in  intensity  almost  in  proportion  as  it  seemed 
unlikely  of  realisation.  These  are  facts  which,  show  that  the  doctrine 
of  the  Kingdom,  as  the  sum  and  substance  of  Old  Testament  teach- 
ing, was  the  very  heart  of  Jewish  religious  life;  while,  at  the.  same 
time,  they  evidence  a  moral  elevation  which  placed  abstract  religious 
conviction  far  beyond  the  reach  of  passing  events,  and  clung  to  it  with 
a  tenacity  which  nothing  could  loosen. 

Tidings  of  what  these  many  months  had  occurred  by  the  banks 
of  the  Jordan  must  have  early  reached  Jerusalem,  and  ultinmtely 
stirred  to  the  depths  its  religious  society,  whatever  its  preoccupation 
with  ritual  questions  or  political  matters.  For  it  was  not  an  ordinary 
movement,  n(jr  in  connection  with  any  of  the  existing  parties,  religious 
or  political.  An  extraordinary  preacher,  of  extraordinary  appearance 
and  habits,  not  aiming,  like  others,  after  rencAved  zeal  in  legal 
observances,  or  increased  Levitical  purity,  but  preaching  repentance 
and  moral  renovation  in  preparation  for  the  coming  Kingdom,  and 
sealing  this  novel  doctrine  Avith  an   e(iiially  novel  rite,  had  drawn 

1  This  chaptcM'  contains,  among  otlier      was  necessary  in  a  work  on  'Tiie  Times,' 
matter,  a  detailed  and  critical  exaniina-      as  well  as  'The  Life,'  of  Christ, 
tion  of  the  i^reat  Jewish  Sects,  such  as 


THE   DEPUTATION    FROM   JEKUriALEM. 


309 


from  tOAvn  and  country  nmltitiidcs  ofull  classes— inquirers,  penitents     CHAP. 
and  novices.     The  great  and  burning  question  seemed,  what  the  real         H 

character  and  meaning  of  it  was  ?  or  rather,  whence  did  it  issue,    ' < — -^ 

and  whither  did  it  tend  ?     The  religious  leaders  of  the  people  pro- 
posed  to    answer   this    by  instituting  an  inquiry  through  a  trust- 
worthy deputation.      In    the   account  of  this  by  St.  John  certain 
l)oints   seem   clearly  implied;^  on   others  only  suggestions  can    be  aj. i9_28 
ventured. 

That   the   interview  referred  to  occurred  after   the  Baptism  of 
Jesus,  appears  from  the  whole  context.  ^     Similarly,  the  statement  that 
the  deputation  which  came  to  John  was   '  sent  from  Jerusalem '  by 
'the  Jews,'  implies  that  it  proceeded  from  authority,  even  if  it  did 
not  bear  more  than  a  semi-official  character.     For,  although  the  ex- 
l)ression  '  Jews '  in  the  fourth  Gospel  generally  conveys  the  idea  of 
contrast  to  the  disciples  of  Christ  (for  ex,  St.  John  vii.   15),  yet  it 
refers  to  the  people  in  their  corporate  capacity,  that  is,   as  repre- 
sented by   their  constituted   religious  authorities.''      On  the  other  bcomp.  st. 
hand,  although  the  term  '  scribes  and  elders '  does  not  occur  in  the  i6ri!x.''i8,''' 
Gospel  of  St.  Johu,^  it  by  no  means  follows  that  '  the  Priests  and  12,' f/"'' 
Levites  '  sent   from    the    capital    either  represented  the  two  great 
divisions  of  the  Sanhedrin,  or,   indeed,  that  the  deputation  issued 
from  the  Great  Sanhedrin  itself     The  former  suggestion  is  entirely 
ungrounded;  the  latter  at  least  problematic.     It  seems  a  legitimate 
inference  that,  considering  their  own  tendencies,  and  the  political 
dangers   connected   with   such   a  step,  the  Sanhedrin  of  Jerusalem 
would  not  have  come  to  the  formal  resolution  of  sending  a  regular 
deputation   on   such    an    inquiry.      Moreover,  a  measure  like  this 
would  have  been  entirely  outside  their  recognised  mode  of  procedure. 
The  Sanhedrin  did  not,  and  could  not,  originate  charges.     It  only 
investigated  those  brought  before  it.     It  is  quite  true  that  judgment 
upon   false   prophets   and   religious    seducers  lay  with  it;''  but  the  ^sauh.  i.  5 
Baptist  had  not  as  yet  said  or  done  anything  to  lay  him  open  to  such 
an  accusation.     He  had  in  no  way  infringed  the  Law  by  word  or  deed, 
nor  had  he  even  claimed  to  be  a  prophet.^     If,  nevertheless,  it  seems 
most  probable  that '  the  Priests  and  Levites  '  came  from  the  Sanhedrin, 
we  are  led  to  the  conclusion  that   theirs  was   an  informal  mission, 
rather  privately  arranged  than  publicly  determined  upon. 

1  This    point    is    fully    discussed    l)y  notes  that  the  exiiression   in  St.   John 

Liuke,  Evana;.  Joh.,  vol",  i.  i))).  396-30S.  viii.  3  is  unauthentic. 

-  So  Professor  Westcott,  in  his  Com-  ♦  Of    tliis  tlie   Sanhedrin   must  have 

mentary  on  the  passage  (Speaker's  Com-  been  perfectly  aware.     Comp.  St.  Matt. 

meut.,   N.T.,   vol.  ii.  p.    18),  where  he  iii.  7;  St.  Luke  iii.  15  itc. 


310 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  For  ex. 
Vdina  1.  .') 


'■  St.  Matt, 
ill.  7,  &c. 


And  witli  this  tlic  character  of  the  deputies  agrees.  '  Priests 
and  Levites  ' — the  colleagues  of  John  the  Priest — would  be  selected 
for  such  an  errand,  rather  than  leading  Ral)binic  authorities.  The 
presence  of  the  latter  would,  indeed,  have  given  to  the  movement 
an  importance,  if  not  a  sanction,  which  the  Sanhedrin  could  not 
have  wished.  The  only  other  authority  in  Jerusalem  from  which 
such  a  deputation  could  have  issued  was  the  so-called  '  Council  of 
tlie  Temple,'  'Judicature  of  the  Priests,' or  'Elders  of  the  Priest- 
hood,'" which  consisted  of  the  fourteen  chief  officers  of  the  Temple. 
But  although  they  may  afterwards  have  taken  their  full  part  in 
the  condemnation  of  Jesus,  ordinarily  their  duty  was  only  connected 
with  the  services  of  the  Sanctuary,  and  not  with  criminal  questions 
or  doctrinal  investigations.^  It  would  be  too  much  to  suppose,  that 
they  would  take  the  initiative  in  such  a  matter  on  the  ground  that 
the  Baptist  was  a  member  of  the  Priesthood.  Finally,  it  seems  quite 
natural  that  such  an  informal  inquiry,  set  on  foot  most  probably 
by  the  Sanhedrists,  should  have  been  entrusted  exclusively  to  the 
Pharisaic  party.  It  would  in  no  way  have  interested  the  Sadducees; 
and  what  members  of  that  party  had  seen  of  John*"  must  have  con- 
vinced them  that  his  views  and  aims  lay  entirely  beyond  their  horizon. 

The  origin  of  the  two  great  parties  of  Pharisees  and  Sadducees 
has  already  been  traced.^  They  mark,  not  sects,  but  mental  directions, 
such  as  in  their  principles  are  natural  and  universal,  and,  indeed, 
appear  in  connection  with  all  metaphysical  ^  questions.  They  are 
the  different  modes  in  which  the  human  mind  views  supersensuous 
problems,  and  which  afterwards,  when  one-sidedly  followed  out, 
harden  into  diverging  schools  of  thought.  If  Pharisees  and  Sad- 
ducees were  not  '  sects  '  in  the  sense  of  separation  from  the  unity 
of  the  Jewish  ecclesiastical  community,  neither  were  theirs  '  heresies ' 
in  the  conventional,  but  only  in  the  original  sense  of  tendency, 
direction,  or,  at  most,  views,  differing  from  those  commonly  enter- 
tained.*    Our  sources  of  information  here  are:  the  New  Testament. 


1  Comp.  '  The  Temple,  its  Ministry  and 
Services,'  p.  75.  Dr.  Geiger  (Ursclir.  u. 
Uebersetz.  d.  Bibel,  pp.  li:-!,  114)  ascribes 
to  them,  however,  a  much  wider  jurisdic- 
tion. Some  of  his  inferences  (such  as  at 
pp.  115,  IKJ)  seem  to  me  historically  un- 
supported. 

'^  Comp.  Book  I.  ch.  viii. 

•^  I  use  the  term  metapliysical  here  in 
the  sense  of  all  that  is  aljove  tlie  natural, 
not  merely  the  speculative,  but  the 
supersensuous  generally. 


*  The  word  a'l'pscrii  has  received  its  pre- 
sent meaning  chiefly  from  the  adjective 
attaching  to  it  in  2  Pet.  ii.  1.  In  Acts 
xxiv.  5,  14,  xxviii.  22,  it  is  vitui^eratively 
applied  to  Christians;  in  1  Cor.  xi.  19, 
Gal.  V.  20,  it  seems  to  apply  to  diverging 
l)ractices  of  a  sinful  kind;  in  Titus  iii. 
10,  the  'heretic'  seems  one  who  held  or 
taught  diverging  opinions  or  practices. 
Besides,  it  occurs  in  tlie  N.T.  once  to 
mark  the  Sadducees,  and  twice  the  Phari- 
sees (Act3  v.  17;  XV.  5,  and  xxvi.  5). 


THE    'FRATERNITY'   OF   PHARISEES.  311 

Josephiis,  and  Ra])l)iiiic  wi'itiiigs.     The  Kew  Testament  only  marks,      CHAP, 
in  broad  outlines  and  i)opularly,  the  peculiarities  of  each  party;  t)ut         H 
from  the  al)sence  of  bias  it  may  safely  be  regarded '  as   the  most  ^— ^r^^ 
trustworthy   authority   on   the  matter.      The   inferences  which  we 
derive   from   the   statements  of   Josephus,^   though   always   to   be 
qualified  by  our  general  estimate  of  his  animus,^  accord  with  those 
from  the  New  Testament.     In  regard  to  Rabbinic  writings,  we  have 
to  bear  in  mind  the   admittedly  unhistorical  character  of  most  of 
their  notices,  the  strong  party-bias  which  coloured  almost  all  their 
statements  regarding  oi)ponents,  and  their  constant  tendency  to  trace 
later  views  and  practices  to  earlier  times. 

Without  entering  on  the  principles  and  supposed  practices  of 
'the  fraternity '  or  'association  '  (C'^e&/ier,  Chabhurah,  Chabhurta)  of 
Pharisees,  which  was  comparatively  small,  numbering  only  about 
6,000  members,''  the  following  particulars  may  be  of  interest.  The  »./os.  Ant. 
object  of  the  association  was  twofold:  to  observe  in  the  strictest 
manner,  and  according  to  traditional  law,  all  the  ordinances  concern- 
ing Levitical  purity,  and  to  be  extremely  punctilious  in  all  connected 
with  religious  dues  (tithes  and  all  other  dues).  A  person  might  under- 
take only  the  second,  without  the  first  of  these  obligations.  In  that 
case  he  was  simply  a  Neeman,  an  '  accredited  one '  with  whom  one 
might  enter  freely  into  commerce,  as  he  was  supposed  to  have  paid 
all  dues.  But  a  person  could  not  undertake  the  vow  of  Levitical 
purity  without  also  taking  the  obligation  of  all  religious  dues.  If 
he  undertook  both  vows  he  was  a  Chabher,  or  associate.  Here  there 
were  four  degrees,  marking  an  ascending  scale  of  Levitical  purity,  or 
separation  from  all  that  was  profane."  In  opposition  to  these  was  the  'Chag.  n. 

.  5.  7  ;  oomp. 

Am  ha-arets,  or  '  country  people    (the  people  which  knew  not,  or  Tohor.  vn. 
cared  not  for  the  Law,  and  were  regarded  as  '  cursed  V-    But  it  must 
not  be  thought  that  every  Chabher  was  either  a  learned  Scribe,  or  that 
every  Scrilje  was  a  Chabher.     On  the  contrary,  as  a  man  might  be  a 
Chabher  without  being  either  a  Scribe  or  an  elder/  so  there  must  have  <•  For  ex. 

,  ,        T  1  ,1  .       .  Kidd.  33  h 

been  sages,  and  even  teachers,  who  did  not  belong  to  the  association, 
since  special  rules  are  laid  down  for  the  reception  of  such.**  Candidates   '  Bekh.  30  :> 
had  to  be  formally  admitted  into  the  '  fraternity '  in  the  presence  of 
three  members.     But  every  accredited  public  '  teacher '  was,  unless 
anything  was  known  to  the  contrary,  supposed  to  have  taken  upon 

1  I  mean   on  historical,  not  on  tbeo-         ^  For  a  full  discussion  of  the  character 

logical  fjrounds.  and  writin,i!;s  of  Josephus,  I  would  refer 

'^  I  here  refer  to  the  following  passages:  to  the  article  in  Dr.  Smith's  Diet,  of  Chr. 

Jewish  War  ii.  8.  14;    Ant.  xiii.  5.  9;  Biogr.  vol.  iii. 
10.  5,  6;  xvii.  2.  4;  xviii.  1,  2,  3,  4. 


312 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 

»  Bekhor.  30 
b  Dem.  ii.  2 


a  In  St. 
Luke  xi.  42; 
xviil.  12; 
St.  Matt, 
xxlii.  23 

t  In  St. 
Luke  xl.  39, 
41:  St. Matt. 
xxiii.  25,  26 


f  Sot.  22  6; 
Jer.  Ber. 
ix.  7 


J  Abhoth  <ie 
K.  Nathan  5 


"<  -ler.  Chag. 
79</:  T.13. 
Chag.  iii. 


liim  the  obligations  referred  to.'  The  family  of  a  Chabher  belonged, 
as  a  matter  of  course,  to  the  connnunity;  ^  but  this  ordinance 
was  afterwards  altered.'  The  Neeman  undertook  tliese  four  obliga- 
tions: to  tithe  what  he  ate,  what  he  sold,  and  what  he  bought,  and 
not  to  be  a  guest  with  an  Am  ha-arets.^  The  full  Chabher  undertook 
not  to  sell  to  an  'Am  ha-arets '  any  fluid  or  dry  sul)stancc  (nutriment 
or  fruit),  not  to  buy  from  him  any  such  tluid,  not  to  be  a  guest  with 
him,  not  to  entertain  him  as  a  guest  in  his  own  clothes  (on  account  of 
their  possible  impurity) — to  which  one  authority  adds  other  par- 
ticulars, which,  however, were  not  recognised  by  the  Rabins  generally 
as  of  primary  importance.'' 

These  two  great  obligations  of  the  '  official '  Pharisee,  or  'Associ- 
ate '  are  pointedly  referred  to  by  Christ — both  that  in  regard  to  tithing 
(the  vowof  theA'eemaw);'^and  that  in  regard  to  Levitical  purity  (the 
special  vow  of  the  Chabher)."  In  both  cases  they  are  associated  with 
a  want  of  corresponding  inward  reality,  and  with  hypocrisy.  These 
charges  cannot  have  come  upon  the  people  by  surprise,  and  thoy  may 
account  for  the  circumstance  that  so  many  of  the  learned  kept  aloof 
from  the  'Association '  as  such.  Indeed,  the  sayings  of  some  of  the 
Rabbis  in  regard  to  Pharisaism  and  the  professional  Pharisee  are 
more  withering  than  any  in  the  New  Testament.  It  is  not  necessary 
here  to  repeat  the  well-known  description,  both  in  the  Jerusalem  and 
the  Babylon  Talmud,  of  the  seven  kinds  of  '  Pharisees,'  of  whom  six 
(the  'Shechemite,'  the  'stumbling,'  the  'bleeding,'  the  'mortar,' the 
'  I  want  to  know  what  is  incumbent  on  me,'  and  'the  Pharisee  from 
fear')  mark  various  kinds  of  unreality,  and  only  one  is  'the  Pharisee 
from  love.' '  Such  an  expression  as  '  the  plague  of  Pharisaism '  is  not 
uncommon;  and  a  silly  pietist,  a  clever  sinner,  and  a  female  Pharisee, 
are  ranked  among  '  the  troubles  of  life.'  ^  '  Shall  we  then  explain  a 
verse  according  to  the  opinions  of  the  Pharisees?'  asks  a  Rabbi,  in 
supreme  contempt  for  the  arrogance  of  the  fraternity.''  '  It  is  as  a 
tradition  among  the  Pharisees '  to  torment  themselves  in  this  world, 
and  yet  they  will  gain  nothing  by  it  in  the  next.'  The  Sadducees 
had  some  reason  for  the  taunt,  that  '  the  Pharisees  would  liy-and-by 
subject  the  globe  of  the  sun  itself  to  their  purifications,"'  the  more 
so  that  their  assertions  of  purity  were  sometimes  conjoined  with 
Epicurean  maxims,  betokening  a  very  different  state  of  mind,  such 
as,    •  Make   haste  to  eat  and   drink,   for  the  world  which  we   quit 


'  Abba  Saul  would  also  have  freed,  all 
students  from  tluxt  formality. 
'^  Comp.  the  suggestion  as  to  the  sig- 


nificant time  when  this  alteration  was 
introduced,  in  'Sketches  of  Jewish  So- 
cial LitV;  pp.  228,  229. 


rilARlSEES   AND   SADDICKES.  313 

resembles  a  wetUliut!:  least; '  or  this:   'My  son,  ii' thou  possess  any-     cilAP. 
thing',  enjoy  thyseil',  for  there  is  no   pleasure   in   Hades,'  and  death         H 

grants  no  respite.     But  if  thou  sayest,  AVhat  then  would  I  leave  to   ^— ^r ' 

my  sons  and  daughters?  Who  will  thaidv  thee  for  this  appointment 
in  Hadesy '  Maxims  these  to  whieh,  alas!  too  many  of  their  recorded 
stories  and  deeds  form  a  painlul  commentary.^ 

But  it  would  be  grossly  unjust  to  identify  Pharisaism,  as  a 
religious  direction,  with  such  embodiments  of  it  or  even  with  the 
official  Mi-aternity.'  While  it  may  be  granted  that  the  tendency  and 
logical  sequence  of  their  views  iuid  practices  were  such,  their  system, 
as  opposed  to  Sadduceeism,  had  very  serious  bearings:  dogmatic, 
ritual,  and  legal.  It  is,  however,  erroneous  to  suppose,  either  that 
their  system  represented  traditionalism  itself,  or  that  Scrilies  and 
Pharisees  are  convertible  terms,"  while  the  Sadducees  represented  the 
civil  and  political  element.  The  Pharisees  represented  only  the  pre- 
vailing system  of,  not  traditionalism  itself;  while  the  Sadducees  also 
numbered  among  them  many  learned  men.  They  were  able  to  enter 
into  controversy,  often  protracted  and  fierce,  with  their  opponents, 
and  they  acted  as  njembers  of  the  Sanhedrin,  although  they  had 
diverging  traditions  of  their  own,  and  even,  as  it  would  appear,  at 
one  time  a  complete  code  of  canon-law.''*     Moreover,  the  admitted  »Megm. 

Tacin    P6r 

fact,  that  when  in  office  the  Sadducees  conformed  to  the  principles  iv.  p.V. 

War.sli   D  9 

and  practices  of  the  Pharisees,  ]jroves  at  least  that  they  must  have  a     '  '   ' 

been  acquainted  with  the  ordinances  of  traditionalism.^      Lastly, 

there  were  certain  traditional  ordinances  on  which  both  parties  were 

at  one."     Thus  it  seems  Sadduceeism  was  in  a  sense  rather  a  specula-  '■sanh.33 1-. 

Horay  4  a 

tive  than  a  practical  system,  starting  from  simple  and  well-defined 
principles,  but  wide-reaching  in  its  possible  consequences.  Perhaps 
it  may  best  be  described  as  a  general  reaction  against  the  extremes  of 
Pharisaism,  springing  from  moderate  and  rationalistic  tendencies; 
intended  to  secure  a  footing  within  the  recognised  bounds  of 
Judaism;  and  seeking  to  defend  its  principles  by  a  strict  literalism  of 

'  Erul).  54  rt.     I  <jive  the  latter  clause,  much  under  the  influence  of  Gefger  and 

not  as  in  our  edition  of  the  Talmud,  but  Kuenen. 

accordlnfj  to    a    more    correct  reading  *  TI>^/7,^«^^sr'»  has  carried  his  criticisms 

{Levy,  NeuhelDr.  Wtirterb.  vol.  ii.  ]).  102).  and  doubts  of  the  Hebrew  SdioUnn  on 

2  It  could  serve  no  ,c;ood  ]>urpose  to  the  Megill.   Taan.   (or    '  Roll  of  Fasts ') 

give  instances.     They  are  readily  acces-  too  far. 

sible  to  those  who  have  taste  or  curiosity  •'  Even  such  a  book  as  the  Meg.  Taan. 

in  that  direction.  does  not  accuse  them  of  absolute  ignor- 

•^  So,  erroneously,  WeUhnusen,  in  his  ance,  but  only  of  being  unable  to  prove 

treatise  'Pharisaer  u.  Sadduc.';  and  par-  their  dicta  from  Scripture  (comp.  Pereq 

tially,  as  it  seems  to  me,  even  Sc/iUrer  x.  p.  15  b,  which  may  well  mark  the  ex- 

(Neutest.  Zeitgesch.).     In  other  respects  trenie  of  Anti-Sadduceeism). 
also  these  two   learned  men  seem  too 


314 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
111 


'Ab.  iii.  11; 
r.  8 


f^Jos.  War  I. 
5.2 


iiiteri)i\'tati<)ii  and  ai)i)licatioii.  Ift^o,  tlicsc  interpretations  would  bo 
intended  ratliei'  I'or  defensive  than  otiensive  i)ur})Oses,  and  the  great 
aim  of  the  i)arty  would  be  after  rational  freedom — or,  it  might 
be,  free  rationality.  Practically,  the  party  would,  of  course,  tend  in 
broad,  and  often  grossly  unorthoilox,  directions. 

The  fundamental  dogmatic  differences  between  the  Pharisees  and 
Sadducees  concerned:  the  rule  of  faith  and  practice;  the  'after 
death;'  the  existence  of  angels  and  spirits;  and  free  will  and  pre- 
destination. In  regard  to  the  first  of  these  points,  it  has  already 
been  stated  that  the  Sadducees  did  not  lay  down  the  principle  of 
absolute  rejection  of  all  traditions  as  such,  but  that  they  were 
opposed  to  traditionalism  as  represented  and  carried  out  by  the 
Pharisees.  When  put  down  by  sheer  weight  of  authority,  they 
would  probably  carry  the  controversy  further,  and  retort  on  their 
opponents  by  an  appeal  to  Scripture  as  against  their  traditions,  per- 
haps ultimately  even  by  an  attack  on  traditionalism;  but  always  as 
represented  by  the  Pharisees.^  A  careful  examination  of  the  state- 
ments of  Josephus  on  this  subject  will  show  that  they  convey  no 
more  than  this.^  The  Pharisaic  view  of  this  aspect  of  the  contro- 
versy appears,  perhaps,  most  satisfactorily,  because  indirectly,  in  cer- 
tain sayings  of  the  Mishnah,  which  attribute  all  national  calamities  to 
those  persons,  whom  they  adjudge  to  eternal  perdition,  who  inter})ret 
Scripture  'not  as  does  the  Halakhah,'  or  established  Pharisaic  rule.'' 
In  this  respect,  then,  the  commonly  received  idea  concerning  the 
Pharisees  and  Sadducees  will  require  to  be  seriously  modified.  As 
regards  the  practice  of  the  Pharisees,  as  distinguished  from  that  of 
the  Sadducees,  we  may  safely  treat  the  statements  of  Josephus  as 
the  exaggerated  representations  of  a  partisan,  who  wishes  to  place 
his  party  in  the  best  light.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  the  Pharisees, 
'interpreting  the  legal  ordinances  with  rigour, '" Mmposed  on  them- 
selves the  necessity  of  much  self-denial,  especially  in  regard  to  food," 
but  that  their  practice  was  under  the  guidance  of  reason,  as  Josephus 


1  Some  traditional  explanation  of  the 
Law  of  Moses  was  absolutely  necessary, 
if  it  was  to  be  applied  to  existing  cir- 
cumstances. It  would  be  a  great  his- 
torical inaccuracy  to  imagine  that  the 
Sadducees  rejected  the  whole  7tapd5  oaii 
t5}v  Ttpsafivrepoov  (St. Matt.  xv.  2)  from 
Ezra  downwards. 

-'  This  is  the  meaning  of  Ant.  xiii.  10. 
6,  and  clearly  implied  in  xviii.  1,  3,  4, 
and  War  ii.  8.  14. 

'■'■  M.  Derenho)(rg  {YViSit.  de  la  Palest.,  p. 
122,  note)  rightly  remarks,  that  the  Rab- 


binic equivalent  for  Josephus '  ocKpifieia 
is  N"!^;1m.  heaviness,  and  that  the  Phar- 

T   : 

isees  were  the  '|***';cn^'  or  '  makers 
heavy.'  What  a  commentary  this  on  the 
charge  of  Jesus  about  '  the  heavy  bur- 
dens'  of  the  Pharisees!  St.  Paul  uses 
the  same  term  as  Josephus  to  describe 
the  Pharisaic  system,  where  our  A.V. 
renders  'the  perfect  manner'  (Acts  xxii. 
8).  Comp.  also  Acts  xxvi.  5:  kcxto. 
Ti)v  ccKpifiecTrdtT/v  aipsaiv. 


DIFFERENCES   BETWEEN   PHARISEES   AND   SADDITEES. 


315 


assert?',  i.s  one  of  those  l)ol(l  niis-statcincnts  with  whicli  he  has  too 
often  to  be  credited.  His  vindication  of  their  special  reverence  for 
age  and  authority "  must  refer  to  the  honours  paid  by  the  party  to 
'the  Elders,'  not  to  the  old.  And  that  there  was  sufficient  ground 
for  Sadducean  opposition  to  Pharisaic  traditionalism,  alike  in  prin- 
ciple and  in  practice,  will  appear  from  the  following  quotation,  to 
which  we  add,  by  way  of  explanation,  that  the  wearing  of  phylacte- 
ries was  deemed  by  that  party  of  Scriptural  obligation,  and  that  the 
phylactery  for  the  head  was  to  consist  (according  to  tradition)  of  four 
compartments.  '  Against  the  words  of  the  Scribes  is  more  punish- 
able than  against  the  words  of  Scripture.  He  who  says,  No  phy- 
lacteries, so  as  to  transgress  the  words  of  Scripture,  is  not  guilty 
(free);  five  compartments — to  add  to  the  words  of  the  Scribes — he  is 
guilty.'" 

The  second  doctrinal  difference  between  Pharisees  and  Sadducees 
concerned  the  'after  death.  '  According  to  the  New  Testament,"  the 
Sadducees  denied  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  while  Josephus, 
going  further,  imputes  to  them  denial  of  reward  or  punishment  after 
death,''  and  even  the  doctrine  that  the  soul  perishes  with  the  body.'' 
The  latter  statement  may  be  dismissed  as  among  those  inferences 
which  theological  controversialists  are  too  fond  of  imputing  to  their 
opponents.  This  is  fully  borne  out  by  the  account  of  a  later  work,*^ 
to  the  effect,  that  by  successive  misunderstandings  of  the  saying  of 
Antigonus  of  Socho;  that  men  were  to  serve  God  without  regard  to 
reward,  his  later  pupils  had  arrived  at  the  inference  that  there  was 
no  other  world — which,  however,  inight  only  refer  to  the  Pharisaic 
ideal  of  'the  world  to  come,'  not  to  the  denial  of  the  immortality  of 
the  soul — and  no  resurrection  of  the  dead.  We  may  therefore 
credit  Josephus  with  merely  reporting  the  common  inference  of  his 
party.  But  it  is  otherwise  in  regard  to  their  denial  of  the  resurrec- 
tion of  the  dead.  Not  only  Josephus,  but  the  New  Testament  and 
Rabbinic  Avritings  attest  this.  The  Mishnah  expressly  states^  that 
the  formula  'from  age  to  age,'  or  rather  'from  world  to  world,'  had 
been  introduced  as  a  protest  against  the  opposite  theory;  while 
the  Talmud,  which  records  disputations  between  Gamaliel  and  the 
Sadducees  '^  on  the  subject  of  the  resurrection,  expressly  imputes  the 


CHAP. 

II 


"  Ant.  .xviij. 
1.  3 


bSanh.  xi.  3 


<•  St.  Matt 
xxii.  23, 
and  paral- 
lel pas- 
sages ;  Acta 
Iv.  1,  2: 
xxlii.  8 

d  War  it.  8. 
14 

"?Ant.  xvlll. 
1.  4 

f  Ab.  d.  R. 
Nath.  5 


8  Ber.  ix.  5 


'  The  subject  is  discussed  at  len^iith 
in  Jer.  Ber.  i.  7  (p.  3  b),  where  the 
superiority  of  the  Scribe  over  the  Pro- 
phet is  shown  (1)  from  Mic.  ii.  6  (with- 
out the  words  in  italics),  the  one  class 
being  the    Prophets  (-prophesy  not'), 


the  other  the  Scribes  (-prophesy'):  (2) 
from  tlie  fact  that  tlie  Prophets  needed 
the  attestation  of  miracles.  (Deut.  xiii, 
2),  but  not  the  Scribes  (Deut.  xvii.  11). 
-  This  is  admitted  even  by  Qeiger 
(Urschr.  u.  Uel)ers.  p.  130.  note),  though 


316 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANJ^FIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


denial  of  this  doctrine  to  the. 'Scribes  of  the  Sadducees.'  In  fairness 
it  is  perhaps  only  right  to  add  that,  in  the  discussion,  the  Sadducees 
seem  only  to  have  actually  denied  that  there  was  proof  for  this 
doctrine  in  the  Pentateuch,  and  that  they  ultimately  professed  them- 
selves convinced  by  the  reasoning  of  Gamaliel.^  Still  the  concurrent 
testimony  of  the  New  Testament  and  of  Jose])hus  leaves  no  doubt, 
tliat  in  this  instance  their  views  had  not  been  misrepresented. 
Whether  or  not  their  opposition  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Resurrection 
arose  in  the  first  instance  from,  or  was  prompted  liy,  Rationalistic 
views,  which  they  endeavoured  to  support  ])y  an  appeal  to  the  letter 
of  the  Pentateuch,  as  the  source  of  traditionalism,  it  deserves  notice 
that  in  His  controversy  with  the  Sadducees  Christ  appealed  to  the 
Pentateuch  in  proof  of  His  teaching.^ 

Connected  with  this  was  the  equally  Rationalistic  opposition  to 
belief  in  Angels  and  Spirits.  It  is  only  mentioned  in  the  New 
Testament,"  but  seems  almost  to  follow  as  a  corollary.  Remembering 
what  the  Jewish  Angelology  was,  one  can  scarcely  wonder  that  in 
controversy  the  Sadducees  should  have  been  led  to  the  opposite 
extreme. 

The  last  dogmatic  diflference  between  the  two  '  sects '  concerned 
that  problem  which  has  at  all  times  engaged  religious  thinkers: 
man's  free  will  and  God's  pre-ordination,  or  rather  their  compati- 
bility. Josephus — or  the  reviser  whom  he  employed — indeed,  uses 
the  purely  heathen  expression  'fate'  {ei)xappdvi])^  to  designate  the 
Jewish  idea  of  the  pre-ordination  of  God.  But,  properly  understood, 
the  real  ditference  between  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  seems  to 
have  amounted  to  this:    that  the   former   accentuated   God's   pre- 


in  the  passage  above  referred  to  he 
would  emendate:  '  Scribes  of  the  Samari- 
taus.'  The  passage,  however,  implies 
that  these  were  Sadducean  Scribes,  and 
that  they  were  both  willing  and  able 
to  enter  into  tlieological  controversy 
with  their  opponents. 

1  Rabbi  Gamaliel's  proof  was  taken 
from  Dent.  i.  8:  'Which  Jehovah  sware 
unto  your  fathers  to  give  unto  them.' 
It  is  not  said  '  unto  you,'  but  unto  '  them,' 
which  implies  the  resurrrection  of  tlie 
dead.  The  argument  is  kindred  in  char- 
acter, but  far  inferior  in  solemnity  and 
weight,  to  that  emi)loyed  by  our  Lord, 
St.  Matt.  xxii.  32,  from  which  it  is  evi- 
dently taken.  (See  book  v.  ch.  iv.,  the 
remarks  on  that  passage.) 

^  It  is  a  curious  circumstance  in  con- 


nection with  the  question  of  the  Saddu- 
cees, that  it  raised  anotlier  ])oint  in  con- 
troversy between  the  Pharisees  and  the 
'Samaritans,'  or,  as  I  would  read  it,  the 
Sadducees,  since  '  the  Samaritans '  (Sad- 
ducees ?)  only  allowed  man-iage  with  the 
betrothed,  not  the  actually  iredded  wife 
of  a  deceased  childless  brother  (Jer. 
Yebam.  i.  6,  p.  3  a).  The  Sadducees  in 
the  Gospel  argue  on  the  Pharisaic  theory, 
apparently  for  the  twofold  object  of 
casting  ridicule  on  the  doctrine  of  the 
Resurrection,  and  on  the  Pharisaic  prac- 
tice of  marriage  with  the  espoused  wife 
of  a  deceased  brother. 

■^  The  expression  is  used  in  the  heathen 
(philosoi)hical)  sense  of  fute  by  Pliilo, 
De  Incorrupt.  Mundi.  §  lo  ed.  iviangey, 
vol.  ii.  p.  49f,  (ed.  Frcf.  p.  !)47). 


5.  9 


'PREDESTINATION'   AND    'FREE   WILL.'  ^11 

ordination,  the  latter  man's  i'rcc  will;  and  that,  while  the  Pharisees     CIIAI'. 

admitted  only  a  partial  intiuence  of  the  human  element  on  what         n 

hapijened,  or  the  co-operation  of  the  human  Avith  the  Divine,  the  " — ~r — ' 

Sadducees  denied  all  absolute  pre-ordination,  and  made  man's  choice 

of  evil  or  good,  with  its  consequences  of  misery  or  happiness,  to 

depend  entirely  on  the  exercise  of  free  will  and  self-determination. 

And  in  this,  like  many  opponents  of  '  Predcstinarianism, '  they  seem 

to  have  started  from  the  principle,  that  it  was  impossible  for  God 

'  either   to  commit   or   to   foresee  [in  the  sense  of  fore-ordaining] 

anything  evil.'     The  mutual  misunderstanding  here  was  that  common 

in  all  such  controversies.     Although "  Josephus  writes  as  if,  according  » m  Jewish 

.  '■  .  '  ^    War  li.  8. 11 

to  the  Pharisees,  the  chief  part  m  every  good  action  depended  upon 
fate  [pre-ordination]  rather  than  on  man's  doing,  yet  in  another 
l)lace"  he  disclaims  for  them  the  notion  that  the  will  of  man  was  '■Ant.  xviii. 
destitute  of  spontaneous  activity,  and  speaks  somewhat  confusedly — 
for  he  is  by  no  means  a  good  reasoncr — of  '  a  mixture  '  of  the  Divine 
and  human  elements,  in  which  the  human  will,  with  its  sequence  of 
virtue  or  wickedness,  is  subject  to  the  will  of  fate.  A  yet  further 
modification  of  this  statement  occurs  in  another  place,"  where  we  are  =  Ant.  xui. 
told  that,  according  to  the  Pharisees,  some  things  depended  upon 
fate,  and  more  on  man  himself.  Manifestly,  there  is  not  a  very 
wide  ditiercnce  between  this  and  the  fundamental  principle  of  the 
Sadducees  in  wliat  we  may  suppose  its  primitive  form. 

But  something  more  will  have  to  be  said  as  illustrative  of  Phari- 
saic teaching  on  this  subject.  No  one  who  has  entered  into  the 
spirit  of  the  Old  Testament  can  doubt  that  its  outcome  was  faitJi,  in 
its  twofold  aspect  of  acknowledgment  of  the  absolute  Rule,  and  simple 
submission  to  the  Will,  of  God.  What  distinguished  this  so  widely 
from  fatalism  was  what  may  be  termed  Jehovahism — that  is,  the 
moral  element  in  its  thoughts  of  God,  and  that  He  was  ever  presented 
as  in  paternal  relationship  to  men.  But  the  Pharisees  carried  their 
accentuation  of  the  Divine  to  the  verge  of  fatalism.  Even  the  idea 
that  God  had  created  man  with  two  impulses,  the  one  to  good,  the 
other  to  evil;  and  that  the  latter  was  absolutely  necessary  for  the 
continuance  of  this  world,  would  in  some  measure  trace  the  causation 
of  moral  evil  to  the  Divine  lieing.  The  absolute  and  unalterable 
pre-ordination  of  every  event,  to  its  minutest  details,  is  frequently 
insisted  upon.  Adam  had  ])een  shown  all  the  generations  that  were 
to  spring  from  him.  Every  incident  in  the  history  of  Israel  had  been 
foreordained,  and  the  actors  in  it — tor  good  or  for  evil — were  only 
instruments  for  carrying  out  the  Divine  Will.      What  were  even 


3!  8 


KIJOM    .lOIJDAN    TO    THE    MOUNT    OF  TRANf^FlGUKATION. 


nooK      Moses  ;iii<l  Aaron?     God  would  have  delivered  Israel  out  of  Egypt, 
111         and  .u'iven  them  the  Law,  had  there  been  no  such  persons.     Similarly 

"- — ' — '  was  it  in  regard  to  Solomon,  to  Esther,  to  Kel)uchadnezzar,  and 
others.  Nay,  it  was  because  nmn  was  predestined  to  die  that  the 
serpent  came  to  seduce  our  first  parents.  And  as  regarded  the 
Instory  of  each  indivi(Uial :  all  that  concerned  his  mental  and  physical 
capacity,  or  that  would  betide  him,  was  prearranged.  His  name, 
place,  position,  circumstances,  the  very  name  of  her  whom  he  was  to 
wed,  were  proclaimed  in  heaven,  just  as  the  hour  of  his  death  was 
foreordered.     There  might  be  seven  years  of  pestilence  in  the  land, 

»sanh.  29  a  and  yct  no  one  died  before  his  time.''     Even  if  a  man  inflicted  a  cut 

ichuu.  7  6  on  his  linger,  he  might  be  sure  that  this  also  had  been  preordered.^ 
Nay,  '  wheresoever  a  man  was  destined  to  die,  thither  would  his  feet 
carry  him.'^  We  can  well  understand  how  the  Sadducees  would 
oppose  notions  like  these,  and  all  such  coarse  expressions  of  fatalism. 
And  it  is  significant  of  the  exaggeration  of  Josephus,^  that  neither 
the  New  Testament,  nor  Rabbinic  writings,  luring  the  charge  of  the 
denial  of  God's  prevision  against  the  Sadducees. 

But  there  is  another  aspect  of  this  question  also.  While  the 
Pharisees  thus  held  the  doctrine  of  absolute  preordination,  side  by 
side  with  it  they  were  anxious  to  insist  on  man's  freedom  of  choice, 
his  personal  responsibility,  and  moral  obligation.^  Although  every 
e^'ent  depended  upon  God,  whether  a  man  served  God  or  not  was 
entirely  in  his  own  choice.  As  a  logical  sequence  of  this,  fate  had  no 
influence  as  regarded  Israel,  since  all  depended  on  prayer, repentance, 
and  good  works.  Indeed,  otherwise  tliat  repentance,  on  which  Rab- 
binism  so  largely  insists,  would  have  had  no  meaning.  Moreover,  it 
seems  as  if  it  had  been  intended  to  convey  that,  while  our  evil  actions 
were  entirely  our  own  choice,  if  a  man  sought  to  amend  his  ways,  he 

'^Yoma38  6  would  be  helped  of  God."     It  was,  indeed,  true  that  God  had  created 


'  The  followins;  curious  histance  of 
this  is  given.  On  one  occasion  King 
Solomon,  wlien  attended  by  liis  two 
Scril)es,  Elilioreph  and  Ahlah  (l;)oth  sup- 
posed to  have  been  Ethiopians),  sud- 
denly perceived  the  Angel  of  Death. 
As  he  loolsed  so  sad,  Solomon  ascertained 
as  its  reason,  that  the  two  Scribes  had 
been  demanded  at  his  hands.  On  this 
Solomon  transported  them  Ijy  magic  into 
the  land  of  Luz,  where,  according  to 
legend,  no  man  ever  died.  Next  morn- 
ing Solomon  again  ixMreived  tlie  Angel 
of  Deatli,  Ijut  tliis  time  laugliing,  be- 
cause,   as  he  said,    Solomon    had  sent 


these  men  to  the  very  place  wdience  he 
had  Iteen  ordered  to  fetch  them  (Siikk. 
53  (I). 

-  Those  who  understand  the  character 
of  Josephus'  writings  will  be  at  no  loss 
for  his  reasons  in  tiiis.  It  would  suit 
liis  purpose  to  s]ieak  often  of  the  fatal- 
ism of  the  Pharisees,  and  to  rei)resent 
them  as  a  philosophical  sect  like  the 
Stoics.  The  latter,  indeed,  he  does  in 
so  many  words. 

■'  For  details  com]i.  ]Iamhvrr/er.  Real- 
Encykl.  ii.  pp.  103  10(1— though  there  is 
some  tendency  to  '  colouring '  in  this  as 
in  other  articles  of  the  work. 


CEREMONIAL   DIFFERENCES. 


319 


the  evil  impulse  in  us;  but  He  had  also  given  the  roniedy  in  the  Law. ' 
This  is  parabolically  represented  under  the  figure  ol'  a  nuin  seattnl  at 
the  j»arting  of  two  ways,  who  warned  all  })assers  that  if  they  chose 
one  road  it  would  lead  them  among  the  thorns,  while  on  the  other 
l)rief  difficulties  "would  end  in  a  plain  path  (joy)."  Or,  to  put  it  in  the 
language  of  the  great  Akiba":  '  Everything  is  foreseen;  free  deter- 
mination is  accorded  to  man;  and  the  world  is  judged  in  goodness.' 
With  this  simple  juxtaposition  of  two  propositions  equally  true,  but 
incapable  of  metaphysical  combination,  as  are  most  things  in  which 
the  empirically  cognisable  and  uncognisable  are  joined  together,  we 
are  content  to  leave  the  matter. 

The  other  differences  between  the  Pharisees  and  Sadducees  can  be 
easily  and  briefly  summed  up.  They  concern  ceremonial,  ritual,  and 
juridical  questions.  In  regard  to  the  first,  the  opposition  of  the  Sad- 
ducees to  the  excessive  scruples  of  the  Pharisees  on  the  subject  of 
Levitical  defilements  led  to  frequent  controversy.  Four  points  in 
dispute  arc  mentioned,  of  which,  however,  three  read  more  like 
ironical  comments  than  serious  divergences.  Thus,  the  Sadducees 
taunted  their  opponents  with  their  many  lustrations,  including  that  of 
the  Golden  Candlestick  in  the  Temple."  Two  other  similar  instances 
are  mentioned.''  By  way  of  guarding  against  the  possibility  of  pro- 
fanation, the  Pharisees  enacted,  that  the  touch  of  any  thing  sacred 
'  defiled '  the  hands.  The  Sadducees,  on  the  other  hand,  ridiculed  the 
idea  that  the  Holy  Scriptures  '  defiled '  the  hands,  but  not  such  a  book 
as  Homer.*  In  the  same  spirit,  the  Sadducees  would  ask  the  Phari- 
sees how  it  came,  that  water  pouring  from  a  clean  into  an  unclean 
vessel  did  not  lose  its  purity  and  purifying  power. -^  If  these  represent 
no  serious  controversies,  on  another  ceremonial  question  there  was  real 
difference,  though  its  existence  shows  how  far  party-spirit  could  lead 
tlie  Pharisees.  No  ceremony  was  surrounded  with  greater  care  to 
prevent  defilement  than  that  of  preparing  the  ashes  of  the  Red  Heifer.'' 


CIIAP. 

II 


"BabaB.  IG 

a 

'  Sli)lir '■  on 
Deut.  xi. 

26,  S  53,  ed. 
Fried- 
niann,  j).  HO 

(' 

^Ab.  in.    Ij 


■^  Jer.  Chag. 
ill.  8 :  Tos. 
ChaK-  iii-, 
where  llie 
reader  will 
find  sviffi- 
cient  pniiif 
that  the 
Sadducees 
were  not  in 
the  wron^ 

'  In  Yad,  iv. 

6,  7 


'  Tlie  Pharisees  replied  by  askinp;  on 
wiiat  ,2;roiuul  the  bones  of  a  Higli-Priest 
'detiled,'  but  not  those  of  a  donkey. 
And  when  tlie  Sadducees  ascril)ed  it  to 
the  ft'reat  value  of  the  former,  lest  a  man 
should  profane  the  bones  of  his  i)arents 
by  makintj;  spoons  of  them,  the  Pharisees 
liointed  out  that  the  same  arijumeiit 
applied  to  defilement  by  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. In  general,  it  seems  that  the 
Pharisees  were  afraid   of    the  satirical 


comments  of  the  Sadducees  on  their 
doings  (comp.  Parah  iii.  3). 

-  Wellhausen  rightly  denounces  the 
strained  interpretation  of  Ueiger,  who 
would  find  here— as  in  other  points — 
hid<len  i)olitical  allusions. 

3  Comp.  '  The  Temple,  its  Ministry  and 
Services,'  pp.  .'JOO.  812.  The  rubrics  are 
in  the  Mishnic  tractate  Parah,  and  iu 
Tos.  Par. 


320 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"Parahiii, : 
Tos.  Par.  3 


''  Parah  iii. 

7 


<■  Shabb. 
108  a 


d  Vv.  15,  16 

"■  Men.  X.  3; 
65  a ;  Chag. 
ii.  i 


'  Rosh 
hash.  i.  7 ; 
ii.  1: 

Tos.  Rosh 
haSh.  ed.  Z. 
i.  1.3. 


'•Sukk.48  6; 
com  p.  Jns. 
Ant.  xiii. 
13.  5 


Wluit  seem  the  original  ordinances/  directed  that,  for  seven  days 
})revi()us  to  the  burning  of  the  Red  Heifer,  the  priest  was  to  be 
kei)t  in  separation  in  the  Tenii)le,  sprinkled  with  the  ashes  of  all  sin- 
olferings,  and  kept  from  the  touch  of  his  brother-priests,  with  even 
greater  rigour  than  the  High-Priest  in  his  preparation  for  the  Day  of 
Atonement.  The  Sadducees  insisted  that,  as  '  till  sundown  '  was  the 
rule  in  all  purification,  the  priest  must  be  in  cleanliness  till  then,  before 
burning  the  Red  Heifer.  But,  apparently  for  the  sake  of  opposition, 
and  in  contravention  to  their  own  principles,  the  Pharisees  would  ac- 
tually '  defile  '  the  priest  on  his  way  to  the  place  of  burning,  and  then 
immediately  make  him  take  a  bath  of  purification  which  had  been 
prepared,  so  as  to  show  that  the  Sadducees  were  in  ("rror."  ^  In  the 
same  spirit,  the  Sadducees  seem  to  have  prohibited  the  use  of  any- 
thing made  from  animals  which  were  either  interdicted  as  food, or  by 
reason  of  their  not  having  been  properly  slaughtered;  while  the 
Pharisees  allowed  it,  and,  in  the  case  of  Lcvitically  clean  animals 
which  had  died  or  been  torn,  even  made  their  skin  into  parchment, 
which  might  be  used  for  sacred  purposes." 

These  may  seem  trifling  distinctions,  but  they  sufliced  to  kindle 
the  passions.  Even  greater  importance  attached  to  differences  on 
ritual  questions,  although  the  controversy  here  was  purely  theoreti- 
cal. For,  the  Sadducees,  when  in  office,  always  conformed  to  the  pre- 
vailing Pharisaic  practices.  Thus  the  Sadducees  would  have  interpreted 
Lev.  xxiii.  11,  15,  16,  as  meaning  that  the  wave-sheaf  (or,  rather,  the 
Omer)  was  to  be  offered  on  '  the  morrow  after  the  weekly  Sabbath ' — 
that  is,  on  the  Sunday  in  Easter  week — which  would  have  brought 
the  Feast  of  Pentacost  always  on  a  Sunday;  '^  while  the  Pharisees  un- 
derstood the  term  '  Sabbath '  of  the  festive  Paschal  day.'  '^  Connected 
with  this  were  disputes  about  the  examination  of  the  witnesses  who 
testified  to  the  appearance  of  the  new  moon,  and  whom  the  Phari- 
sees accused  of  having  been  suborned  by  their  opponents.' 

The  Sadducean  objection  to  pouring  the  water  of  libation  upon 
the  altar  on  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  led  to  riot  and  bloody  repris- 
als on  the  only  occasion  on  which  it  seems  to  have  been  carried  into 
practice.^*     Similarly,    the    Sadducees    objected    to    the    beating 


'  The  Mishnic  passage  is  difficult,  but 
I  believe  I  have  given  the  sense  cor- 
rectly. 

*  This  difference,  which  is  more  intri- 
cate than  appears  at  first  sight,  requires 


a  longer  discussion  than  can  be  given  in 
this  place. 

•'*  For  details  about  the  observances 
on  this  festival  I  must  refer  to  'The 
Temple,  its  Ministry  and  Services.' 


DIFFERENCES   ON   JURIDICAL   QUESTIONS. 


321 


off  the  willow-branches  after  the  procession  round  the  altar  on  the 
last  day  of  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  if  it  were  a  Sabbath.^  Again, 
the  Sadducees  would  have  had  the  High-Priest,  on  the  Day  of 
Atonement,  kindle  the  incense  before  entering  the  Most  Holy  Place; 
the  Pharisees  after  he  had  entered  the  Sanctuary."  Lastly,  the 
Pharisees  contended  that  the  cost  of  the  daily  Sacrifices  should  be 
discharged  from  the  general  Temple  treasury,  while  the  Sadducees 
would  have  paid  it  from  free-will  offerings.  Other  differences,  which 
seem  not  so  well  established,  need  not  here  be  discussed. 

Among  the  divergences  onj iimZica^  questions,  reference  has  already 
been  made  to  that  in  regard  to  marriage  with  the  '■  betrothed,'  or  else 
actually  espoused  widow  of  a  deceased,  childless  brother.  Josephus, 
indeed,  charges  the  Sadducees  with  extreme  severity  in  criminal 
matters;"  but  this  must  refer  to  the  fact  that  the  ingenuity  or  punc- 
tiliousness of  the  Pharisees  would  afford  to  most  offenders  a  loophole 
of  escape.  On  the  other  hand,  such  of  the  diverging  juridical  prin- 
ciples of  the  Sadducees,  as  are  attested  on  trustworthy  authority,^ 
seem  more  in  accordance  with  justice  than  those  of  the  Pharisees. 
They  concerned  (besides  the  Levirate  marriage)  chiefly  three  points. 
According  to  the  Sadducees,  the  punishment  ^  against  false  witnesses 
was  only  to  be  executed  if  the  innocent  person,  condemned  on  their 
testimony,  had  actually  suffered  punishment,  while  the  Pharisees  held 
that  this  was  to  be  done  if  the  sentence  had  been  actually  pronounced, 
although  not  carried  out."  Again,  according  to  Jewish  law,  only  a 
son,  but  not  a  daughter,  inherited  the  father's  property.  From  this 
the  Pharisees  argued,  that  if,  at  the  time  of  his  father's  decease,  that 
son  were  dead,  leaving  only  a  daughter,  this  granddaughter  would, 
(as  representative  of  the  son)  be  the  heir,  while  the  daughter  would 
be  excluded.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Sadducees  held  that,  in  such  a 
case,  daughter  and  granddaughter  should  share  alike.''  Lastly,  the 
Sadducees  argued  that  if,  according  to  Exodus  xxi.  28,29,  a  man  was 
responsible  for  damage  done  l^y  his  cattle,  he  was  equally,  if  not 
more,  responsible  for  damage  done  by  his  slave,  while  the  Pharisees 
refused  to  recognise  any  responsibility  on  the  latter  score.  ^■- 

For  the  sake  of  completeness  it  has  been  necessary  to  enter  into 


CHAP. 

n 


»Sukk.4:Wy, 
find  in  ilio 
Jerus. 
Talm. and 
T08.  Sukk. 
lii.  1 

*>  Jer.  Ynma 
i.  5;  Yonia 
19  /;;  53  a 


'  Specially 
Ant.  XX.  9 


I"  Decreed 
In  Deut. 
xlx.  21 


f  Baba  B. 
115  h: 
Tos.Yad. 
ii.  21) 


•^  Yad.  iv.  7 
and  To.s. 
Yad. 


'  Other  differences,  which  rest  merely 
on  tlie  autiiority  of  the  Hebrew  Coni- 
nientary  on  'The  Roll  of  Fasts,' I  have 
discarded  as  unsup])orted  by  liistorical 
evidence.  I  am  sorry  to  have  in  this 
respect,  and  on  some  other  aspects  of 
the  (luestion,  to  ditfer  from   the  h^arned 


Article   on  '  The   Sadducees, '   in  Kittu'n 
Bibl.  Encycl. 

-  Geiger,  and  even  Denntboui-g,  see  in 
tliese  things  deep  political  allusions — 
which,  as  it  seems  to  me,  have  no  other 
existence  than  in  the  ingenuity  of  these 
writers. 


322 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOL^'T   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


» Ant.  xlii. 
10.  G 

'■  .\iit.  xvli. 
•2.  i 


<■  Acts  V.  17; 
Ant.  X.X.9. 1 


''  Sheqal. 
iv.  4;  vi.  1; 
Eduy.  vlli. 
•2;  Ab.  li. 
8  &c. 


'  St.  John  i. 
24 


•  In  the  Ab. 
de  R.  Nath. 
c.  5 


details,  wliich  may  not  possess  a  general  interest.  This,  however,  will 
be  marked,  that,  with  the  exception  of  dogmatic  differences,  the  con- 
trover.-^y  turned  on  questions  of  'canon-law.'  Josephus  tells  us  that 
the  Pharisees  commanded  the  masses,^  and  especially  the  female 
world,*'  while  the  Sadducees  attached  to  their  ranks  only  a  minority, 
and  that  belonging  to  the  highest  class.  The  leading  priests  in 
Jerusalem  formed,  of  course,  part  of  that  highest  class  of  society; 
and  from  the  New  Testament  and  Josephus  we  learn  that  the  High- 
Priestly  families  belonged  to  the  Sadducean  party."  But  to  conclude 
from  this,^  either  that  the  Sadducees  represented  the  civil  and  political 
aspect  of  society,  and  the  Pharisees  the  religious;  or,  that  the  Sad- 
ducees were  the  priest-party,^  in  opposition  to  the  popular  and  demo- 
cratic Pharisees,  are  inferences  not  only  unsupported,  but  opposed  to 
historical  facts.  For,  not  a  few  of  the  Pharisaic  leaders  were  actually 
priests,'^  while  the  Pharisaic  ordinances  make  more  than  ample  re- 
cognition of  the  privileges  and  rights  of  the  Priesthood.  This  would 
certainly  not  have  been  the  case  if,  as  some  have  maintained,  Sad- 
ducean  and  priest-party  had  been  convertible  terms.  Even  as  regards 
the  deputation  to  the  Baptist  of  '  Priests  and  Levites '  from  Jerusalem, 
we  are  expressely  told  that  they  '  were  of  the  Pharisees.'^ 

This  bold  hypothesis  seems,  indeed,  to  have  been  invented  chiefly  for 
the  sake  of  another,  still  more  unhistorical.  The  derivation  of  the  name 
'  Sadducee  '  has  always  been  in  dispute.  According  to  a  Jewish  legend 
of  about  the  seventh  century  of  our  era,'  the  name  was  derived  from  (me 
Tsadoq  (Zadok),^  a  disciple  of  Antigonus  of  Socho,  whose  principle  of 
not  serving  God  for  reward  had  been  gradually  misinterpreted  into 
Sadduceeism.  But,  apart  from  the  objection  that  in  such  case  the  party 
should  rather  have  taken  the  name  of  Antigonites,  the  story  itself  re- 
ceives no  support  either  from  Josephus  or  from  early  Jewish  writings. 
Accordingly  modern  critics  have  adopted  another  hypothesis,  which 
seems  at  least  equally  untenable.  On  the  supposition  that  the  Saddu- 
cees were  the  '  priest-party,'  the  name  of  the  sect  is  derived  from  Zadok 
(Tsadoq),  the  High-Priest  in  the  time  of  Solomon.*  But  the  objec- 
tions to  this  are  insuperable.  Not  to  speak  of  the  linguistic  difficulty 
of  deriving  Tsadduqim  (Zaddukim,  Sadducees)  from  Tsadoq  (Zadok), ^ 


'  So  WeUhausen,  ii.  s. 

2  So  Geiger,  u.  s. 

•■*  Tseduqim  and  Tsadduqim  mark  dif- 
ferent transhterations  of  the  name  Sad- 
ducees. 

*  This  theory,  defended  with  injienuity 
by  Gei'jer,  had  Vjeen  of  late  adoi)ted  by 
most  writer.^,  and  even  hy  ScJdlrer.    But 


not  a  few  of  tlie  statements  hazarded  by 
Dr.  (ii'ii/i'r  seem  to  me  to  have  no  liistori- 
cal  foundation,  and  the  passages  quoted 
in  sui)port  either  do  not  convey  such 
meaninsr,  or  else  are  of  no  authority. 

=  So  Dr.  Lbiv,  as  quoted  in  Dr.  Gins- 
hurifs  article. 


DERIVATION   OF   THE   NAMES:     'PHARISEE'  AND    'SADDUCEE.'  323 

neither  Joseplius  nor  the  Rabljis  know  anything  of  such  a  connection     cilAT. 
between  Tsadoq  and  the  Sadducees,  of  which,  indeed,  the  rationale         ll 
would  be  difficult  to  perceive.     Besides,  is  it  likely  that  a  party  would  ^— ^r — ' 
have  gone  back  so  many  centuries  for  a  name,  which  had  no  connec- 
tion with  their  distinctive  principles?      The  name  of  a  party  is,  if 
self-chosen  (which  is  rarely  the  case),  derived  from  its  founder  or  place 
of  origin,  or  else  from  wliat  it  claims  as  distinctive  principles  or 
practices.     Opponents  might  either  pervert  such  a  name,  or  else  give 
a  designation,  generally  opprobrious,  w)iich  would  express  their  own 
relation  to  the  party,  or  to  some  of  its  supposed  peculiarities.     But 
on  none  of  these  principles  can  the  origin  of  the  name  of  Sadducees 
from  Tsadoq  be  accounted  for.     Lastly,  on  the  supposition  mentiojied, 
the  Sadducees  must  have  given  the  name  to  their  party,  since  it  can- 
not be  imagined  that  the  Pharisees  would  have  connected  their  op- 
ponents with  the  honoured  name  of  the  High-Priest  Tsadoq. 

If  it  is  highly  improbable  that  the  Sadducees,  who,  of  course, 
professed  to  be  the  right  interpreters  of  Scripture,  would  choose  any 
party-name,  thereby  stamping  themselves  as  sectaries,  this  derivation 
of  their  name  is  also  contrary  to  historical  analogy.     For  even  the 
name  Pharisees,  ^ Perushlm,'  'separated  ones,'  was  not  taken  by  the 
party  itself,  but  given  to  it  by  their  opponents.*^  From  1  Mace.  ii.  42;  ^Yad.  iv.  e 
vii.  13;  2  Mace.  xiv.  6,  it  appears  that  originally  they  had  taken  the 
sacred  name  of  Chasldim,  or  'the  pious."'      This,  no  doubt,  on  the  'Ps. sxx.i; 
ground  that  they  were  truly  those  who,  according  to  the  directions  xxxvii.  2a 
of  Ezra,"  had  separated  themselves  (become  niljhdalim)  'from  the  <^vi. 2i;ix. 
filthiness  of  the  heathen'  (all  heathen  defilement)  by  carrying  out  Neh". ix!2 
the  traditional  ordinances.'^      In  fact,  Ezra  marked  the   beginning 
of  the  'later,'  in  contradistinction  to  the   'earlier,'  or  Scripture- 
Chasidim.^    If  we  are  correct  in  supposing  that  their  opponents  liad   'Ber.  v.  i; 
called   them   Perushim,    instead   of  the   Scriptural    designation   of  vayyikra  ^ 
Nibhdalim,  the  inference  is  at  hand,  that,  while  the  '  Pharisees  '  would  war'ah.t 
arrogate  to  themselves  the  Scriptural  name  of  Chasidun,  or  'tlu- 
pious,'  their  opponents  would  retort  that  they  were  satisfied  to  lie 
Tsaddlqim,^ or  'righteous.'  Thus  the  name  of  J!s«f7r?/g/»?,  would  l)ccoiue 
that  of  the  party  opposing  the  Pharisees,  that  is,  of  the  Sadducees. 

'  The  ar2;umpnt  as  against  tlie  deriva-  ^  Here  it  deserves  special  notice  that 

tiou   of  the  torni    tidddxcec   would,    of  tlie  Old  Testament  term  CJutsid.  wlilch 

com'se,  hold  e(nially  ^ood,  even  if  each  the  Pharisees  arro,a;atod  to  theni.selves,  is 

l)arty   had  assumed,   not   received  from  rendered  in  the  Peshito  V)y  Z^^(/'//V/.   Tims, 

the  other,  its  characteristic  name.  as  it  were,  the  opponents  of  Pharisaism 

'^  Comp.  fjenerally,  '  Sketches  of  Jewish  would  i)lay  ott"  tlie  equivalent   Tsadiliq 

Social  Life,' pp.  230,  231.  againstthePharisaicarrogatiouof  C7i«A7(^. 


iii.  p.  5  a 


324 


FRO^r   .TOrvDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


«  Philn, 
Quod 

oninis  pro- 
bus  liber, 
S  12,  ed. 
Mang.  ii  p. 
4")7 ;  Jns. 
Ant.  xvili. 
1.  5 


There  is,  indeed,  an  admitted  linguistic  difficulty  in  the  chan(i:;e  of 
the  sound  i  into  u  {TsadcUqlm  into  Tsadduqim),  but  may  it  not  have 
been  that  this  was  accomplished,  not  grammatically,  but  by  popular 
witticism?  Such  mode  of  giving-  a  '  by-name'  to  a  party  or  govern- 
ment is,  at  least,  not  irrational,  nor  is  it  uncommon/  Some  wit 
might  have  suggested:  Read  not  Tsaddiqim,  the  'righteous,'  but 
Tsadduqim  (Irom  Tsadu,  'iTi)^  'desolation,'  'destruction.'  Whether 
or  not  this  suggestion  approve  itself  to  critics,  the  derivation  of 
Sadducees  from  Tsaddiqim  is  certainly  that  which  offers  most 
probability.^ 

This  uncertainty  as  to  the  origin  of  the  name  of  a  party  leads 
almost  naturally  to  the  mention  of  another,  which,  indeed,  could  not  be 
omitted  in  any  description  of  those  times.  But  while  the  Pharisees 
and  Sadducees  were  parties  ivithin  the  Synagogue,  the  Essenes 
(Ecrffrjvoi,  or  'Ecrcrmoi — the  latter  always  in  Philo)  were,  although 
strict  Jews,  yet  separatists,  and,  alike  in  doctrine,  worship,  and 
practice,  outside  the  Jewish  body  ecclesiastic.  Their  numbers 
amounted  to  only  about  4,000.^  They  are  not  mentioned  in  the 
New  Testament,  and  only  very  indirectly  referred  to  in  Rabbinic 
writings,  perhaps  without  clear  knowledge  on  the  part  of  the 
Ra])bis.  If  the  conclusion  concerning  them,  which  we  shall  by-and- 
by  indicate,  be  correct,  we  can  scarcely  wonder  at  this.  Indeed, 
their  entire  separation  from  all  who  did  not  belong  to  their  sect,  the 
terrible  oaths  by  which  they  bound  themselves  to  secrecy  about  their 
doctrines,  and  which  would  prevent  any  free  religious  discussion,  as 
well  as  the  character  of  what  is  known  of  their  views,  would  account 
for  the  scanty  notices  about  them.  Josephus  and  Philo, ^  who 
speak  of  them  in  the  most  sympathetic  manner,  had,  no  doubt,  taken 
special  pains  to  ascertain  all  that  could  be  learned.  For  this 
Josephus  seems  to  have  enjoyed  special  opportunities.*  Still,  the 
secrecy  of  their  doctrines  renders  us  dependent  on  writers,  of  Avhom 
at  least  one  (Josephus)  lies  open  to  the  suspicion  of  colouring  and 


'  Such  by-names,  by  a  play  on  a  word, 
are  not  unfrequent.  Thus,  in  Sheni. 
R.  5  (ed.  Warsh.  ]).  14  a,  lines  7  and  8 
from  top),  Pharaoli's  charf;;e  that  the 
Israelites   were  u'E-.J'   '  idle,'  is,  by    a 

transposition   of  letters  made  to  mean 
that  they  were  itopvoi. 

'■'  It  seems  strange,  that  so  accurate  a 
scholar  as  Schilrer  should  have  regarded 
the  '  national  party '  as  merely  an  ottslinot 
from  tlie  Pharisees  (Neutest.  Zeitgesch. 
p.    431),    and   ajjpealed   in   proof    to    a 


])assage  in  Jose'phns  (Ant.  xviii.  1.  6), 
which  expressly  calls  the  Nationalists  a 
fniuih  party,  by  the  side  of  the  Pharisees, 
.'^adducees,  and  Essenes.  That  in  prac- 
tice thoy  would  carry  out  the  strict 
.Judaism  of  the  Pharisees,  does  not  make 
them  T'harisees. 

■•  They  are  also  mentioned  by  Pliny 
(Hist.  Natur.  v.  16). 

■*  This  may  be  inferred  from  Josephus' 
Life,  c.  2. 


ESSENISM.  325 

oxag:geration.  But  of  one  tiling  wc  may  feci  certain:  neither  John  ciLvr. 
the  Baptist,  and  his  Baptism,  nor  the  teaching  of  Christianity,  had  H 
any  connection  with  Essenism.  It  were  utterly  unhistorical  to  infer  '^ ^r — ' 
such  from  a  few  points  of  contact — and  these  only  of  similarity,  not 
identity — when  the  differences  between  them  are  so  fundamental. 
That  an  Essene  would  have  preached  repentance  and  the  Kingdom 
of  God  to  multitudes,  baptized  the  uninitiated,  and  given  supreme 
testimon}'  to  One  like  Jesus,  are  assertions  only  less  extravagant  than 
this,  that  One  Who  mingled  with  society  as  Jesus  did,  and  Whose 
teaching,  alike  in  that  respect,  and  in  all  its  tendencies,  was  so 
utterly  Non-,  and  even  Anti-Essenic,  had  derived  any  part  of  His 
doctrine  from  Essenism.  Besides,  when  we  remember  the  views  of 
the  Essenes  on  purification,  and  on  Sabbath  observance,  and  their 
denial  of  the  Resurrection,  we  feel  that,  whatever  points  of  resemblance 
critical  ingenuity  may  emphasise,  the  teaching  of  Christianity  was  in 
a  direction  opposite  from  that  of  Essenism.' 

■  We  possess  no  data  for  the  history  of  the  origin  and  develo})ment 
(if  such  there  was)  of  Essenism.  We  may  admit  a  certain  con- 
nection between  Pharisaism  and  Essenism,  though  it  has  been 
greatly  exaggerated  by  modern  Jewish  writers.  Both  directions 
originated  from  a  desire  after  '  purity, '  though  there  seems  a  funda- 
mental difference  between  them,  alike  in  the  idea  of  what  consti- 
tuted purity,  and  in  the  means  for  attaining  it.  To  the  Pharisee  it 
was  Levitical  and  legal  purity,  secured  by  the  'hedge'  of  ordinances 
which  they  drew  around  themselves.  To  the  Essene  it  was  absolute 
purity  in  separation  from  the  '  material, '  which  in  itself  was  detiling. 
The  Pharisee  attained  in  this  manner  the  distinctive  merit  of  a  saint; 
the  Essene  obtained  a  higher  fellowship  with  the  Divine,  '  inward ' 
purity,  and  not  only  freedom  from  the  detracting,  degrading  influ- 
ence of  matter,  but  command  over  matter  and  nature.  As  the  result 
of  this  higher  fellowship  with  the  Divine,  the  adept  possessed  the 
power  of  prediction;  as  the  result  of  his  freedom  from,  and  command 

'  This  point  is  conclusively  disposed  dissent  being  few  and  unimportdnt.    The 

of  by  Bishop  Li<jhtfoot  in  tlie  third  Dis-  reader  who  wishes  to  see  a  statement  of 

sertation  appended  to  his  Conunentary  the  supposed  analogy  between  Essenism 

on   the   Colossians    (pp.   897-419).      In  and  the  teaching  of  Christ  will  find  it  in 

general,  the  masterly  discussion  of  the  Dr.     Ginshunfs    Article    'Essenes,'    in 

whole  subject  by  Bishoj)  Lightfoot,  alike  Smith  and  Wace\s  Dictionary  of  Christian 

in  the  body  of  the  Conunentary  and  in  Biography.     The  same  line  of  argument 

the  three  Dissertations  ai)pen(le(i,  nuiy  ])e  lias  been  followed  by  Frunkel  and  (rartz. 

said  to  form  a  new  era  in  tlie  treatment  The  reasons  for  the  opposite   view  are 

of  the  whole  question,    the  points   on  set  forth  in  the  text. 
which  we    would    venture    to    express 


326 


FROM   .JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT  OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Jnx.  Ant. 
xiii.  5.  9 

b  105-104 
B.C. ;  Ant. 
xili.  11.  2; 
War  i.  3.  5 


"=  Phih,  ii.p. 
457 


*  PHny, 
Hist.  Nat. 
V.  16,  17 

«  Philo,  U.S. 
p.  632;  M<. 
Jewish  War 
li.  8.  4 

f  Ant.  xiii. 
11.  2;  XV. 
10.  5;  xvii. 
13.  3 

E  War  V.  4.  2 

•'  I'liilo,  U.S. 
p.  632 

i  War  ii.8.  9 


over  matter,  the  power  of  miraculous  cures.  That  their  purifications, 
strictest  Sabbath  observance,  and  other  practices,  would  form  points 
of  contact  with  Pharisaism,  follows  as  a  matter  of  course;  and  a 
little  reflection  will  show,  that  such  observances  would  naturally  be 
adopted  by  the  Essenes,  since  they  were  within  the  lines  of  Judaism, 
although  separatists  from  its  body  ecclesiastic.  On  the  other  hand, 
their  fundamental  tendency  was  quite  other  than  tliat  of  Pharisaism, 
and  strongly  tinged  with  Eastern  (Parsee)  elements.  After  this  the 
inquiry  as  to  the  precise  date  of  its  origin,  and  whether  Essenism 
was  an  ofl'shoot  from  the  original  (ancient)  Assideans  or  ChasicUm, 
seems  needless.  Certain  it  is  that  we  find  its  first  mention  about 
150  B.C.,''  and  that  w^e  meet  the  first  Essene  in  the  reign  of  Aris- 
tobulus  I.*" 

Before  stating  our  conclusions  as  to  its  relation  to  Judaism  and 
the  meaning  of  tlie  name,  we  shall  put  together  what  information 
may  be  derived  of  the  sect  from  the  writings  of  Josephus,  Philo,  and 
Pliny.  ^  Even  its  outward  organisation  and  the  mode  of  life  must 
have  made  as  deep,  and,  considering  the  habits  and  circumstances  of 
the  time,  even  deeper  impression  than  does  the  strictest  asceticism 
on  the  part  of  any  modern  monastic  order,  without  the  unnatural 
and  repulsive  characteristics  of  the  latter.  There  were  no  vows  of 
absolute  silence,  broken  only  by  weird  chaunt  of  prayer  or  *  memento 
mori;'  no  penances,  nor  self-chastisement.  But  the  person  who  had 
entered  the  'order'  was  as  effectually  separated  from  all  outside  as 
if  he  had  lived  in  another  world.  Avoiding  the  large  cities  as  the 
centres  of  immorality,  °  they  chose  for  their  settlements  chiefly 
villages,  one  of  their  largest  colonies  being  by  the  shore  of  the  Dead 
Sea.'^  At  the  same  time  they  had  also  'houses'  in  most,  if  not  all  the 
cities  of  Palestine, ""  notably  in  Jerusalem,^  where,  indeed,  one  of  the 
gates  was  named  after  them.^  In  these  'houses'  they  lived  in  com- 
mon,'' under  officials  of  their  own.  The  affairs  of  'the  order'  were 
administered  by  a  tribunal  of  at  least  a  hundred  members.'  They 
wore  a  common  dress,  engaged  in  common  labor,  united  in  common 
prayers,  partook  of  common  meals,  and  devoted  themselves  to 
w^orks  of  charity,  for  Avhich  each  had  liberty  to  draw  from  the  com- 


'  Compare  Joseplnift,  Ant.  xiii.  5,  9; 
XV.  10.  4,  5;  xviii.  1.  5;  Jewish  War,  ii. 
8,  2-13;  Philo,  Quod  omiiis  probus  liber, 
§  12,  l?>  (ed.  Mnnqei/,  ii.  4.'i7-459;  ed. 
Par.  and  Frcf.  i)p.  87C-879;  ed.  Bu//ti'r, 
vol.  V.  pp.  285-288);  Plini/,  N.H.  v.  16, 
17.     For  references  in  the  Fathers  see 


Bp.  Liglitfoot  on  Colossians,  pp.  83,  84 
(note).  Comp.  the  literature  tliere  and 
in  Svh'ilrer  (Neute.-it.  Zeitijesch.  p.  .399), 
to  which  I  would  add  Dr.  Giiibur'/s  Art. 
'  Eriseues'  in  iSmif/i's  and  Wace^s  Diet,  of 
Chr.  Biogr.,  vol.  ii. 


VIEWS   AND   OBSERVANCES   OF   THE   ESSENES.  327 

raon  treasury  at  liis  own  discretion,  except  in  the  case  of  relatives.*     CHAP. 
It    scarcely    needs    mention  that  they   extended  fullest    hospitality         H 

to  strang-ers  belonging-  to   the  order;  in   fact,  a  special  official  was  ^- — ^.^ ' 

appointed  lor  this  purjjose  in  every  city.''  Everything  was  of  the  »w;iru. h.g 
simplest  character,  and  intended  to  jjurify  the  sonl  l)y  the  great-  ''"•'^•s* 
est  possible  avoidance,  not  only  of  what  was  sinful,  but  of  what 
was  material.  Rising  at  dawn,  no  profane  word  was  spoken  till 
they  had  ottered  their  prayers.  These  were  addressed  towards,  if 
not  to,  the  rising  son — probably,  as  they  would  have  explained  it,  as 
the  emblem  of  the  Divine  Light,  but  implying  invocation,  if  not 
adoration,  of  the  sun.^  After  that  they  were  dismissed  by  their 
officers  to  common  work.  The  morning  meal  was  preceded  by  a 
lustration,  or  bath.  Then  they  put  on  their  'festive  '  linen  garments, 
and  entered,  purified,  the  common  hall  as  their  Sanctuary.  For  each 
meal  was  sacrificial,  in  fact,  the  only  sacrifices  which  they  acknow- 
leged.  The  '  baker,'  who  was  really  their  priest — and  naturally  so, 
since  he  prepared  the  sacrifice — set  before  each  bread,  and  the  c-ook 
a  mess  of  vegetables.  The  meal  began  with  prayer  by  the  pre- 
siding priest,  for  those  who  i)resided  at  these  '  sacrifices  '  were  also 
'priests,'  although  in  neither  case  probably  of  Aaronic  descent,  but 
consecrated  by  themselves."  The  sacrificial  meal  was  again  concluded  cjbs.  warn, 
by  prayer,  when  they  put  off  their  sacred  dress,  and  returned  to  their  xViii.  i.  k 
labour.  The  evening  meal  was  of  exactly  the  same  description,  and 
partaken  of  with  the  same  rites  as  that  of  the  morning. 

Although  the  Essenes,  who,  with  the  exception  of  a  small  party 
among  them,  repudiated  marriage,  adopted  children  to  train  them 
in  the  principles  of  their  sect,-  yet  admission  to  the  order  was  only 
granted  to  adults,  and  after  a  novitiate  which  lasted  three  years. 
On  entering,  the  novice  received  the  three  symbols  of  purity:  an 
axe,  or  rather  a  spade,  with  which  to  dig  a  pit,  a  foot  deep,  to  cover 
up  the  excrements;  an  ajwon,  to  bind  round  the  loins  in  batliing; 
and  a  white  dress,  which  was  always  worn,  the  festive  garment  at 
meals  being  of  linen.     At  the  end  of  the  first  year  the  novice  was 

'  The  distinction  is  Schiirer's,  althoucili  (Comp.    ed.  Mnngey,    ii.    p.    632,    from 

he  is  disposed  to  minimise  this   point.  Eiisebhis'  Prajpar.  Evang.  lib.  viii.  cap. 

More  on  this  in  the  sequel.  8.)     I  have  adopted  the  view  of  Bisiiop 

■•*  Schiirer  re,2;ard3  these  children   as  Lu/Ziffoot  on   the    suliject.      Even    the 

formino;  the  first  of  the  four  'classes'  or  marrjinp:  order  of  the  Essenes,  however, 

'grades'   into  which  the  Essenes  were  only  admitted  of  wedlock  under  great  re- 

arranged.     But  this  is  contrary  to   the  strictlous.  and  as  a  necessary  evil  (War, 

express   statement   of  P/i/In,    that   only  u.  s.  §  13).     Bishoj)  TJi/htfnot  suggests, 

adults  were  admitted  into  the  order,  and  that  these  were  not  Essenes  in  tiie  strict 

hence  only  such  could   have   fornu^d   a  sense,  but  only  '  like  the  third  order  of  a 

'grade'  or    'class'  of  the   community.  Benedictine  or  Franciscan  brotherhood.' 


828  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      admitted  to  tlie  lustrations.     He  had  now  entered  on  the  second 
III        grade,  in  whieh  he  remained  for  another  year.     After  its  lapse,   he 

'^ — '  ■  was  advanced  to  the  ^/aVrZ  grade,  but  still  continued  a  novice,  until,  at 
the  close  of  the  third  year  of  his  probation,  he  was  admitted  to  the 
fourth  grade — that  of  full  member,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he  was 
admitted  to  the  sacrifice  of  the  common  meals.  The  mere  touch  of 
one  of  a  lower  grade  in  the  order  defiled  the  Essene,  and  necessitated 
the  lustration  of  a  bath.  Before  admission  to  full  membership,  a 
terrible  oath  w^as  taken.  As,  among  other  things,  it  bound  to  the 
most   absolute   secrecy,  we  can   scarcely  suppose  that  its  form,  as 

"  War  ii.  8.7  given  by  Josephus, "  contains  much  beyond  what  was  generally 
allowed  to  transpire.  Thus  the  long  list  given  by  the  Jewish  his- 
torian of  moral  obligations  which  the  Essenes  undertook,  is  probably 
only  a  rhetorical  enlargement  of  some  simple  formula.  More  credit 
attaches  to  the  alleged  undertaking  of  avoidance  of  all  vanity,  false- 
hood, dishonesty,  and  unlawful  gains.  The  last  parts  of  the  oath 
alone  indicate  the  peculiar  vows  of  the  sect,  that  is,  so  far  as  they 
could  be  learned  by  the  outside  world,  probably  chiefly  through  the 
practice  of  the  Essenes.  They  bound  each  member  not  to  conceal 
anything  from  his  own  sect,  nor,  even  on  peril  of  death,  to  disclose 
their  doctrines  to  others;  to  hand  down  their  doctrines  exactly  as 
they  had  received  them;  to  abstain  from  robbery;^  and  to  guard  the 
hooks  belonging  to  their  sect,  and  the  names  of  the  Angels. 

It  is  evident  that,  while  all  else  was  intended  as  safeguards  of  a 
rigorous  sect  of  purists,  and  with  the  view  of  strictly  keeping  it  a 
secret  order,  the  last-mentioned  particulars  furnish  significant  indica- 
tions of  their  peculiar  doctrines.  Some  of  these  may  be  regarded 
as  only  exaggerations  of  Judaism,  though  not  of  the  Pharisaic  kind.  ^ 
Among  them  we  reckon  the  extravagant  reverence  for  the  name  of 
their  legislator  (presumably  Moses),  whom  to  blaspheme  was  a 
capital  offence;  their  rigid  abstinence  from  all  prohibited  food;  and 
their  exaggerated  Sabbath-observance,  when,  not  only  no  food  was 
prepared,  but  not  a  vessel  moved,  nay,  not  even  nature  eased. ^  But 
this  latter  was  connected  with  their  fundamental  idea  of  inherent  im- 

'  Can  this  iiossibly  have  any  connec-  few,  if  any,  traces  of  Pharisaism  in  the 

tion  in  the  mind  of  .Tosephus  witli  the  distinctive  sense  of  the  term.    Even  their 

later  Nationalist  movement  ?    This  would  frequent  washings  had  a  diflerent  object 

agree  with  his  insistance  on  their  respect  from  those  of  the  Pharisees, 

for   those  in   authority.     Otherwise   the  ■*  For  a  similar  reason,  and  in  order 

enii)hasis  laid  on  abstinence  from  robbery  •  not  to  afl'ront  the  Divine  rays  of  light ' — 

seems  strange  in  such  a  sect.  the  light  as  symbol,  if  not  outcome,  of 

-  I  venture  to  think  that  even  Bishop  the  Deity— they  covered  themselves,  in 

Lir//i/foof    lays  too  much   stress  on  the  such  circumstances,  with  the  mantle  which 

afllnltv   to   Pharisaism.     I  can   discover  was  their  ordinarv  dress  in  winter. 


DIFFERENCES  BETWEEN  ESSENISM  AND  OUTIIODOX  JUD.USM.  329 

purity  ill  the  l)0(ly,  and,  iudocl,  in  all  that  is  material.  Ilenec,  also,  CHAP, 
their  asceticism,  their  repudiation  of  inarria<i-e,  and  their  frequent  n 
lustrations  in  clean  water,  not  only  belbre  tlieii-  sacrificial  meals,  ])ut  ^-^r — - 
upon  contact  even  with  an  Essene  of  a  lower  grade,  and  alter  attend- 
ing to  the  calls  of  nature.  Their  undoubted  denial  of  the  resurrection 
of  the  bod II  seems  only  the  logical  sequence  from  it.  W  the  soul 
was  a  sul)stancc  of  the  subtlest  ether,  drawn  by  certain  natural 
enticement  into  the  body,  which  was  its  i)rison,  a  state  of  pcrfectness 
could  not  have  consisted  in  the  restoration  of  that  which,  being 
material,  was  in  itself  im])ure.  And,  indeed,  what  we  have  called 
the  exaggerated  Judaism  of  the  sect — its  rigid  al)stinence  from  all 
forbidden  food,  and  peculiar  Sabbath-observance — may  all  liav('  had 
the  same  object,  that  of  tending  towards  an  external  purism,  which 
the  Divine  legislator  would  have  introduced,  but  the  'carnally- 
minded  '  could  not  receive.  Hence,  also,  the  strict  separation  of  the 
order,  its  grades,  its  rigorous  discipline,  as  well  as  its  abstinence  from 
wine,  meat,  and  all  ointments — from  every  luxury,  even  from  trades 
which  would  encourage  this,  or  any  vice.  This  aim  after  external 
purity  explains  many  of  their  outward  arrangements,  such  as  that 
their  labour  was  of  the  simplest  kind,  and  the  commonality  of 
all  property  in  the  order;  i:)crhaps,  also,  what  may  seem  more 
ethical  ordinances,  such  as  the  repudiation  of  slavery,  their  refusal 
to  take  an  oath,  and  even  their  scrupulous  care  of  truth.  The  white 
garments,  Avhich  they  always  wore,  seem  to  have  been  but  a  symbol 
of  that  purity  which  they  sought.  For  this  puri)oso  they  submitted, 
not  only  to  strict  asceticism,  but  to  a  discipline  which  gave  the 
officials  authority  to  expel  all  offenders,  even  though  in  so  doing 
they  virtually  condemned  them  to  death  by  starvation,  since  the 
most  terrible  oaths  had  bound  all  entrants  into  the  order  not  to 
partake  of  any  food  other  than  that  i)rei)ared  by  their  '  priests.' 

In  such  a  system  there  would,  of  course,  be  no  place  for  e it! ler 
an  Aaronic  priesthood^  or  bloody  sacrifices.  In  fact,  they  repudiated 
both.  Without  formally  rejecting  the  Temple  and  its  services,  there 
was  no  room  in  their  system  for  such  ordinances.  They  sent,  indeed, 
thank-offerings  to  tlie  Temple,  but  what  part  had  they  in  bloody 
sacrifices  and  an  Aarohic  ministry,  which  constituted  the  main  busi- 
ness of  the  Temple?  Their  '  priests '  were  their  bakers  and  presidents; 
their  sacrifices  those  of  fellowship,  their  sacred  meals  of  purity.  It 
is  quite  in  accordance  with  this  tendency  when  we  learn  from  Philo 
that,  in  thtir  diligent  study  of  the  Scriptures,  they  chiefly  adopted 
the  allegorical  mode  of  interpretation.''  u^p!  i'sa"'" 


330 


FROM    JOIIDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK  We  ciui  scarcely  wonder  that  such  Jews  as  Josephus  and  Pliilo, 

III  and  such  lieuthens  as  Pliny,  were  attracted  by  such  an  unworldly 
- — Y^^  and  lolty  sect.  Here  were  about  4,000  men,  who  deliberately 
separated  themselves,  not  only  IVom  all  that  made  life  pleasant,  but 
from  all  around;  who,  after  passing  a  long  and  strict  novitiate, 
were  content  to  live  under  the  most  rigid  rule,  obedient  to  their 
superiors;  who  gave  up  all  their  possessions,  as  well  as  the  earnings 
of  their  daily  toil  in  the  fields,  or  of  their  simple  trades;  who 
held  all  things  for  the  common  benefit,  entertained  strangers, 
nursed  their  sick,  and  tended  their  aged  as  if  their  own  parents,  and 
were  charitable  to  all  men;  who  renounced  all  animal  passions, 
eschewed  anger,  ate  and  drank  in  strictest  moderation,  accumulated 
neither  wealth  nor  possessions,  wore  the  simplest  white  dress  till  it 
was  no  longer  fit  for  use;  repudiated  slavery,  oaths,  marriage;  ab- 
stained from  meat  and  wine,  even  from  the  common  Eastern  anoint- 
ing witli  oil;  used  mystic  lustrations,  had  mystic  rites  and  mystic 
prayers,  an  esoteric  literature  and  doctrines;  whose  every  meal  was 
a  sacrifice,  and  every  act  one  of  self-denial;  who,  besides,  were 
strictly  truthful,  honest,  upright,  virtuous,  chaste,  and  charitable — in 
short,  whose  life  meant,  positively  and  uegatively,  a  continual  purifi- 
cation of  the  soul  by  mortification  of  tlic  l)ody.  To  the  astonished 
onlookers  this  mode  of  life  was  rendered  even  more  sacred  by  doctrines, 
a  literature,  and  magic  power  known  only  to  the  initiated.  Their 
mysterious  conditions  made  them  cognisant  of  the  names  of  Angels, 
by  which  we  are,  no  doubt,  to  understand  a  theosophic  knowledge, 
fellowship  with  the  Angelic  world,  and  the  power  of  employing  its 
ministry.  Their  constant  ]mrifications,  and  the  study  of  their  prophetic 
^jbs.warii.  writings,  gave  them  the  power  of  prediction;''  the  same  mystic 
Ant.xiii.  '   writings  revealed  the  secret  remedies  of  plants  and  stones  for  the 

11.  2'  XV.  10. 

5;"xvii.  is.  3  liealiug  of  the  body,^  as  well  as  what  was  needed  for  the  cure  of  souls. 
It  deserves  special  notice  that  this  intercourse  with  Angels,  this 
secret  traditional  literature,  and  its  teaching  concerning  mysterious 
remedies  in  plants  and  stones,  are  not  unfrequently  referred  to  in  tliat 
Apocalyptic  literature  known  as  the  '  Pseudepigraphic  Writings. '  Con- 
fining ourselves  to  undoubtedly  Jewish  and  pre-Christian  documents,^ 
we  know  what  development  the  doctrine  of  Angels  received  both  in 

i-ch.  sxxi.-  the  P)()()k  of  Enoch  (alike  in  its  earlier  and  in  its  later  portion '')  and 
in  the    Uook    of  Jubilees,^  and  how  the   'seers'   received  Angehc 


'  Thei'c  call  be  no  question  that  these 
Essene  curcrf  were  magical,  and  their 
knowledfje  of  remedie.s  esoteric. 

■■^  Bishop  Lhjhtfoot  refers  to  a  part  of 


the    Sibylline    books   which   seems    of 
Christian  authorship. 

■'  Comp.    Lucius,  Essenismus,   p.  109. 
This  brocliuro,  the  latest  on  the  subject, 


ORIGIN   OF   ES.SENISM.  33] 

instruction  and  revelations.      The  distinctively  Ral)))inic   teacliing  CIIAP. 
on  these  sul)jects  is  fully  set  forth  in  another  pai't  of  this    work.'  H 

Here  we  would  only  specially  notice  that  in  tlu'  IJook  of  .Iiihilccs  ^'  ^- — -i^-^ 

Auii'els  are  represented  asteachini;-  Noah  all  'herbal  remedies'  for  '^h-x- 

diseases,"  while  in  the  later  Pirqe  de  R.   Eliezer "  this  instruction  is  'comp. 

said  to  have  been  ^'iven  to  Moses.     These  two  points  (relation  to  the  sopiior' 

11  1     1  J.    1  1  •    1  /•     1  Noach  in 

Anu'els,  and  knowledfi^e  ol  theremedud  i)ower  ot  i)lants — not  to  speak  .MUnek's 
ot  visions  and  prophecies)  seem  to  connect  the  secret  writin<>;s  ol  the  Mi<ir.  iiart 
p]sscnes  with  that   'outside'  literature  which  in.  Rabbinic  writings  i56 
is  known  as  Svjiltartin  haChitsonim,  'outside  writings.'^     The  point  '*^-*^ 
is  of  greatest  importance,  as  will  presently  appear. 

It  needs  no  demonstration,  that  a  system  which  proceeded  from  a 
contempt  of  the  body  and  of  all  that  is  material;  in  some  manner 
identitied  the  Divine  manifestation  with  the  Sun;  denied  the  Resur- 
rection, the  Temple-priesthood,  and  sacrifices;  preached  abstinence 
from  meats  and  from  marriage;  decreed  such  entire  sei)arati()n  from  all 
around  that  their  very  contact  defiled,  and  that  its  adherents  would 
have  perished  of  hunger  rather  tlian  join  in  the  meals  of  the  outside 
world;  which,  moreover,  contained  not  a  trace  of  Messianic  elements 
— indeed,  had  no  room  for  them — could  have  had  no  internal  connec- 
tion with  the  origin  of  Christianity.  Equally  certain  is  it  that,  in 
respect  of  doctrine,  life,  and  worship,  it  re'dWy  stood  outside  Judaism, 
as  represented  by  either  Pharisees  or  Sadducees.  The  question 
whence  the  foreign  elements  were  derived,  which  were  its  distinctive 
characteristics,  has  of  late  been  so  learnedly  discussed,  that  only  the 
conclusions  arrived  at  require  to  be  stated.  Of  the  two  theories,  of 
which  the  one  traces  Essenism  to  Neo-Pythagorean,''  the  other  to 
Persian  sources,*  the  latter  seems  fully  established — without,  however, 
wholly  denying  at  least  the  possibility  of  Neo-Pythagorean  intlueiices.  . 
To  the  grounds  which  have  been  so  conclusively  urged  in  support  of  the 
Eastern  origin  of  P'ssenism,"  in  its  distinctive  features,  maybe  added 
this,  that  Jewish  Angelology,  which  played  so  great  a  part  in  the 
system,  was  derived  from  Chaldee  and  Persian  sources,  and  perhaps 
also  the  curious  notion,  that  the  knowledge  of  medicaments,  originally 

ihou2;li   interesting,    adds   little   to   our  ^  80  Zeller,  Pliilosoi)lue    d.  Griechen, 

knowledge.  ed.  1S81,  iii.  ])\).  •277-.'5:)7. 

1   See  Appendix  XIII.  on  the  Angelol-  *  So  Hisliop  Li(ihtf<)()t,  in  liis  masterly 

ogy,  Satanoiogy,  and  Demonology  of  the  treatment  of  tlie  whole   snl)ject  in  his 

Jews.  Conmientary  on  the  Ep.  to  the  Colossians. 

^  Only  after  writing  the  above  I  have  ^  By  Bishop  Lightfooi,  u.  s.  pp.  382- 

noticed,  that  .h'Uiuek  ai-rives  at  the  same  396.  In  general,  I  i)refer  on  many  points 

conclusion  as  to  the  Ii]ssene  character  of  — such  as  the  connection  between  Esseu- 

the   Book   of    Jubilees    (Beth    ha-Midr.  ism  and  Gnosticism  Ac,  simply  to  refer 

iii.  ]).  xxxiv.,  xxxv.),  and  of  tlie  Book  of  readers   to  the  classic   work   of   Bishop 

Enoch  (u.  s.  ii,  p,  xxx.).  Lighifoot. 


332 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


••'  Seplier 
Noach  a  p. 
Jdimek  iii. 
p.  15G 


••'  Deiifsch, 
Rpmains, 

pp.  359,  aeo 


derived  by  Noah  from  the  angels,  came  to  the  Egyptians    chiefly 
through  the  magic  books  of  the  Chaldees.'' ' 

It  is  only  at  the  conclusion  of  these  investigations  that  we  are 
prepared  to  enter  on  the  question  of  the  origin  and  meaning  of  the 
name  Essenes,  important  as  this  inquiry  is,  not  only  in  itself,  but  in 
regard  to  the  relation  of  the  sect  to  orthodox  Judaism.  The  eighteen 
or  nineteen  proposed  explanations  of  a  term,  which  must  undoubtedly 
be  of  Hebrew  etymology,  all  proceed  on  the  idea  of  its  derivation 
from  something  which  implied  praise  of  the  sect,  the  two  least  objec- 
tionable explaining  the  name  as  equivalent  either  to  'the  pious,'  or 
else  to  '  the  silent  ones. '  But  against  all  such  derivations  there  is  the 
obvious  objection,  that  the  Pharisees,  who  had  the  moulding  of  the 
theological  language,  and  who  were  in  the  habit  of  giving  the  hardest 
names  to  those  who  differed  from  them,  would  certainly  not  have 
bestowed  a  title  implying  encomium  on  a  sect  which,  in  principle  and 
practices,  stood  so  entirely  outside,  not  only  of  their  own  views,  but 
even  of  the  Synagogue  itself.  Again,  if  they  had  given  a  name  of 
encomium  to  the  sect,  it  is  only  reasonable  to  suppose  that  they  would 
not  have  kept,  in  regard  to  their  doctrines  and  practices,  a  silence 
which  is  only  broken  by  dim  and  indirect  allusions.  Yet,  as  we 
examine  it,  the  origin  and  meaning  of  the  name  seem  implied  in  their 
very  position  towards  the  Synagogue.  They  were  the  only  real  sect, 
strictly  outside7's,  and  their  name  £'s.se;ifi.S'  {^'Eaai^voi,  ^^acraioi)  seems 
the  Greek  equivalent  for  Chitsonim  (z^l'^'n),  '  the  outsiders. '  Even  the 
circumstance  that  the  axe,  or  rather  spade  (a^ivapiov),  which  every 
novice  received,  has  for  its  Rabbinic  equivalent  the  word  Chatsina,  is 
here  not  without  significance.  Linguistically,  the  words  Essenoi  and 
GMtsonim  are  equivalents,  as  admittedly  are  the  similar  designations 
Chasidim  (C'Tv~)  and  Asidaioi  {^Acridaioi).  For,  in  rendering  Hebrew 
into  Greek,  the  c7i  (n)  is  *  often  entirely  omitted,  or  represented  by 
a  spiritiis  lenis  in  the  beginning,'  while  '  in  regard  to  the  vowels  no 
distinct  rule  is  to  be  laid  down. ' ''  Instances  of  a  change  of  the  Hebrew  i 
into  the  Greek  e  are  frequent,  and  of  the  Hebrew  o  into  the  Greek  e  not 
rare.  As  one  instance  will  suffice,  we  select  a  case  in  which  exactly  the 
same  transmutation  of  the  two  vowel-sounds  occurs — that  of  the  Rab- 
binic Abhgmos  (uu^^N)  for  the  Greek{£vy€vt}5)'Eagenes  ('well-born  ').* 


1  As  regard.?  any  connection  between 
the  Essene.s  and  the  Therupeufai,  Lucius 
has  denied  tlie  existence  of  such  a  sect 
and  the  Piiilonic  authorship  of  fZe  V.co>if. 
The  latter  we  have  sought  to  defend  in 
the  Art.  Philo  (Smith  and  Wace's  Diet, 
of  Chr.  Biogr.  iv.),  and  to  show  that  the 


Therapeutes  were  not  a  '  sect '  but  an 
esoteric  circle  of  Alexandrian  Jews. 

•^  As  other  instances  may  be  quoted  such 
as  Istagioth  (rri'^JZls')  ^  areyi),  roof; 

Istuli  (VVJCNj^o-r/^A?/,  a  pillar;  Dikh- 

suniini  (*2*'2*w2~)=(5£qa7<f  j'?/,   cistern. 


DERIVATION   OF   THE    NAME    '  ESSENES. 


333 


This  derivation  oftlie  luiiiie  UsseneSj  which  strictly  expresses  tlie  chap 
character  and  standing  of  the  sect  relatively  to  orthodox  Judaism,  H 
anil,  indeed,  is  the  (ireek  Ibrni  of  the  Hebrew  term  tor  '(outsiders,'  is  ^-— r-^ 
also  otherwise  conlirmed.  It  has  already  been  said,  that  no  direct 
statement  concerning  the  Essenes  occurs  in  Kabbinic  writings.  Nor 
need  this  surprise  us,  when  we  remember  the  general  reluctance  of 
the  Rabbis  to  refer  to  tludr  opp(jnents,  except  in  actual  controversy; 
and,  that,  when  traditionalism  was  reduced  to  writing,  Essenism,  as 
a  Jewish  sect,  had  ceased  to  exist.  Some  of  its  elements  had  passed 
into  the  Synagogue,  influencing  its  general  teaching  (as  in  regard  to 
Angelology,  magic,  &c.),  and  greatly  contributing  to  that  mystic 
direction  which  afterwards  found  expression  in  what  is  now  known  as 
the  Kabbalah.  But  the  general  movement  had  passed  beyond  the 
bounds  of  Judaism,  and  appeared  in  some  forms  of  the  Gnostic  heresy. 
But  still  there  are  Rabbinic  references  to  the  'Chitsonim,'  which 
seem  to  identify  them  with  the  sect  of  the  Essenes.  Thus,  in  one 
imssage  "^  certain  practices  of  the  Sadducees  and  of  the  Chitsonim  are  »Megui. 

^  24  li,  lines  4 

mentioned  together,  and  it  is  difficult  to  see  who  could  be  meant  by  and  5  from 

.  -,  ,  .  ,  n  1  bottom 

the  latter  if  not  the  Essenes,  Besides,  the  practices  there  referred  to 
seem  to  contain  covert  allusions  to  those  of  the  P]ssencs.  Thus,  the 
Mishnah  begins  by  prohibiting  the  public  reading  of  the  Law  by 
those  who  would  not  appear  in  a  coloured,  but  only  in  a  iv/iite  dress. 
Again,  the  curious  statement  is  made  that  the  manner  of  the  Chitsonim 
was  to  cover  the  phylacteries  with  gold — a  statement  unexplained  in 
the  Gcmara,  and  inexplicable,  unless  we  see  in  it  an  allusion  to  the 
Essene  practice  of  facing  the  rising  Sun  in  their  morning  prayers.^ 
Again,  we  know  with  what  bitterness  Rabbinism  denounced  the  use 
of  the  externeivritings  (the  SepharimhaChitsonim)  to  the  extent  of  ex- 
cluding from  eternal  life  those  who  studied  them.''  But  one  of  the  "sanii.  x.i 
best  ascertained  facts  concerning  the  Essenes  is  that  they  possessed 
secret, '  outside,'  holy  writings  of  their  own, which  they  guarded  with 
special  care.  And,  although  it  is  not  maintained  that  the  Sepharim 
haChitsonim  were  exclusively  Essene  writings,^  the  latter  must  have 
been  included  among  them.    We  have  already  seen  reason  for  beUev- 

1  Tlie  practice  of  beiyinmiifr  prayers  be-  God  m  the  so-called  i^/«Z/^/i^7/f>^/^  Zikhro- 

fore.  and   endina;  them   as  the  sun  had  noth,  and   Shophroth),   shows  that  they 

just  risen,  seems  to  have  passed  from  the  were  not  Essenes,  since  such  Kal)binic 

Essenes  to  a  party  in  the  Rynasogue  it-  practices  must  have  been  alien  ti>  their 

s(>lf.   and  is   ])oiiitedlv  alluded  to   as   a  system. 

characteristic  of  the  so-called  Veihil-in,  -  In  Sanh.  ino  //  they  are  explained  as 

Ber.  ()  6;  2,5  5;  26  a.     But  another  i^e-  'tlie  writings  of  the  Sadducees,'  and  by 

culiaritv  about  them,   noticed   in    Rosh  another  Rabbi  as  ■  the  Book  of  Sirach ' 

haSli.  :}2  h  (the  repetition  of  all  the  verses  in  (Ecclus.  in  the  Apocrypha).    Ilnmlnir;/e'\ 

the  Pentateuch  coutaininir  the  record  of  as  sometimes,  makes  assertions  on  this 


334 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  In  Sanh. 

X.   1 

b  Meg.  24  b 


=  Sanh.  101 
a;  Jer. 

Sanh,  p.  28  () 


ing,  that  even  the  so-called  r.seiulepigraphic  literature,  notably  such 
works  as  the  Book  ol' Jubilees,  was  strongly  tainted  with  Essene  views; 
ii',  indeed,  in  perhaps  another  than  its  present  form,  part  of  it  was 
not  actually  Essene.  Lastly,  we  find  what  seems  to  us  yet  another 
covert  alku'iou''  to  Essene  practices,  similar  to  that  which  has  already 
been  noticed.^  For,  immediately  after  consigning  to  destruction  all 
who  denied  that  there  was  proof  in  the  Pentateuch  for  the  Resurrec- 
tion (evidently  the  Sadducees),  those  who  denied  that  the  Law  was 
from  heaven  (the  Minim,  or  heretics — probably  the  Jewish  Christians), 
and  all  '  E]picureans '  ^  (materialists),  the  same  punisliment  is  assigned 
to  those  '  who  read  externe  writings '  {Sep]w,run  haChitsonim)  and 
'who  whispered'  (a  magical  formula)  'over  a  wound. '^  Both  the 
Babylonian  and  the  Jerusalem  Talmud "  offer  a  strange  explanation 
of  this  practice;  perhaps,  because  they  either  did  not,  or  else  would 
not,  understand  the  allusion.  But  to  us  it  seems  at  least  significant 
that  as,  in  the  first  quoted  instance,  the  mention  of  the  Chitsonim  is 
conjoined  with  a  condemnation  of  the  exclusive  use  of  white  garments 
in  worship,  which  we  know  to  have  been  an  Essene  peculiarity,  so  the 
condemnation  of  the  use  of  Chitsonim  writings  with  that  of  magical 
cures.*  At  the  same  time,  we  are  less  bound  to  insist  on  these 
allusions  as  essential  to  our  argument,  since  those,  who  have  given 
another  derivation  than  ours  to  the  name  Essenes,  express  themselves 
unable  to  find  in  ancient  Jewish  writings  any  trustworthy  reference 
to  the  sect. 

On  one  point,  at  least,  our  inquiry  into  the  three  '  parties '  can 
leave  no  doubt.  The  Essenes  could  never  have  been  drawn  either  to 
the  person,  or  the  preaching  of  John  the  Baptist.  Similarly,  the 
Sadducees  would,  after  they  knew  its  real  character  and  goal,  turn 


point  which  caunot  be  supported  (Real- 
Worterb.  ii.  p.  70).  Jer.  Sanii.  28  a  ex- 
plaiiiti,  '  Such  as  tiie  booivs  of  Bea  Sirach 
and  of  Ben  La'nah ' — the  latter  apparently 
also  an  Apocrypiial  book,  for  which  tlie 
Midr.  Kohel.  (ed.  Warsh.  iii.  p.  lOfi  h)  has 
'  the  book  of  Ben  Tasla '  '  La'nali '  and 
'  Ta,ii:la' could  scarcely  be  symbolic  names. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  cannot  agree  with 
Fiirsi  (Kanon  d.  A.T.  p.  !l'.)).  who  identi- 
fies them  witli  ApoUonius  of  Tyana  and 
Empedocles.  Dr.  Neubnuer  suggests  that 
Ben  La'nah  may  be  a  corruption  of  Sibyl- 
line Oracles. 

1  The  'Epicureans.'  or  -freethinkers,' 
are  explaineil  to  Ije  such  as  speak  con- 
tenii)tuous!y  of  the  Scriptures,  or  of  tiu; 
Rubbis  (^Jer,  Sauh.  27  d).     In  Sanh.  38  i) 


a  distinction  is  made  between  'stranger' 
(heathen)  Epicureans,  and  Israelitish  Epi- 
cureans. With  the  latter  it  is  unwise  to 
enter  into  argument. 

■^  Both  in  the  Jer.  and  Bab.  Talm.  it  is 
conjoined  with  -spitting,'  whicli  was  a 
mode  of  healing,  usual  at  the  time.  The 
Talmud  forbids  the  magical  formula,  only 
ill  comieetion  with  this  'spitting' — and 
i.KUi  for  the  curious  reason  tliat  the  Di- 
vine Name  is  not  to  l)e  recorded  while 
'spitting.'  But.  wliile  in  the  Bab.  Talm. 
the  prohibition  bears  against  such  ■  si)it- 
ting'  before  pronouncing  tlie  formula,  in 
the  Jer.  Talm.  it  is  after  uttering  it. 

■*  Bishop  Lirjlitfoot  has  shown  that  the 
Essene  cures  were  magical  (u.  s.  pp.  91 
&c.  and  p.  377j. 


SUBJECT   OF   PHARISAIC   INQUIRY   REGARDING   JOHN.  335 

contemptuously  from  a  movement  wliicli  wonld  awaken  no  sympathy     CIIAP. 
in  them,  and  could  only  become  of  interest  when  it  threatened  to         II 

endanger  their  class  by  awakening    popular    enthusiasm,   and    so  ^- — -r ' 

rousing  the  suspicions  of  the  Romans.     To  the  Pharisees  there  were 

questions  of  dogmatic,  ritual,  and  even  national  importance  involved, 

which  made  the  barest  possibility  of  what  John  announced  a  question 

of  supreme  moment.     And,  although  we  judge  that  the  report  which 

the  earliest  Pharisaic  hearers  of  John  *  brought  to  Jerusalem — no  « st.  Matt. 

doubt,  detailed  and  accurate — and  which  led  to  the  despatch  of  the 

deputation,  would  entirely  predispose  them  against  the  Baptist,  yet 

it  behooved  them,  as  leaders  of  public  opinion,  to  take  such  cognisance 

of  it,  as  would  not  only  finally  determine  their  own  relation  to  the 

movement,  but  enable  them  efl'ectually  to  direct  that  of  others  also. 


7 


336  FR^^^i   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  TWOFOLD  TESTIMONY  OF  JOHN — THE  FIRST  SABBATH  OF  JESUS'S 
MINISTRY — THE  FIRST  SUNDAY — THE  FIRST  DISCIPLES. 

(St.  John  i.  15-51.) 

BOOK     The  forty  days,  which  had  passed  since  Jesus  had  first  come  to  him, 
^^^        must  have  been  to  the  Baptist  a  time  of  soul-quickening,  of  unfold- 

■''^<'^  '  ing  understanding,  and  of  ripened  decision.  We  see  it  in  liis  more 
em]ihasised  testimony  to  the  Christ;  in  his  fuller  comprehension  of 
those  prophecies  which  had  formed  the  warrant  and  substance  of  his 
Mission;  but  specially  in  the  yet  more  entire  self-abnegation,  wliich 
led  him  to  take  up  a  still  lowlier  position,  and  acquiescingly  to  realise 
that  his  task  of  heralding  was  ending,  and  that  what  remained  was 
to  point  those  nearest  to  him,  and  who  had  most  deeply  drunk  of  his 
spirit,  to  Him  Who  had  come.  And  how  could  it  be  otherwise?  On 
first  meeting  Jesus  by  the  banks  of  Jordan,  he  had  felt  the  seeming 
incongruity  of  baj^tizing  One  of  Whom  he  had  rather  need  to  be 
baptized.  Yet  this,  perhaps,  because  he  had  beheld  himself  by  the 
Brightness  of  Christ,  rather  than  looked  at  the  Christ  Himself. 
What  he  needed  was  not  to  be  baptized,  but  to  learn  that  it  became 
the  Christ  to  fulfil  all  righteousness.  This  was  the  first  lesson.  The 
next,  and  completing  one,  came  when,  after  the  Baptism,  the  heavens 
opened,  the  Spirit  descended,  and  the  Divine  Voice  of  Testimony 
pointed  to,  and  explained  the  promised  sign. '  It  told  him,  that  the 
work,  which  he  had  begun  in  the  obedience  of  faith,  had  reached  the 
reality  of  fulfilment.  The  first  was  a  lesson  about  the  Kingdom;  the 
second  about  the  King.  And  then  Jesus  was  parted  from  him,  and 
led  of  the  Spirit  into  the  wilderness. 

Forty  days  since  then — with  these  events,  this  vision,  those  Avords 
ever  present  to  his  mind!  It  had  been  the  mightiest  impulse;  nay, 
it  must  have  been  a  direct  call  from  above,  which  first  brought  John 
from  his  life-preparation  of  lonely  communing  with  God  to  the  task 
of  preparing  Israel  for  that  which  he  knew  was  preparing  for  them. 

1  St.  Johu  i.  33. 


THE  ISAIAH-PREACHING  OF   JOHN.  337 

He  had  entered  upon  it,  not  only  without  illusions,  but  with  such  chap. 
entire  sclf-tbrgetl'iilness,  as  only  deepest  conviction  of  the  reality  of  HI 
what  he  auuounced  could  have  wrought.  He  knew  those  to  whom  he  ^— ^r — ' 
was  to  speak — the  preoccupation,  the  spiritual  dulness,  the  sins  of 
the  great  mass;  tlie  hypocrisy,  the  unreality,  the  inward  im'j^ienitence 
of  tlieir  spiritual  leaders;  the  perverseness  of  their  direction;  the 
hollowness  and  delusiveness  of  their  confidence  as  being  descended 
from  Abraham.  He  saw  only  too  clearly  their  real  character,  and  knew 
the  near  end  of  it  all:  how  the  axe  was  laid  to  the  barren  tree,  and 
how  terribly  the  fan  would  sift  the  chaff  from  the  wheat.  And  yet 
lie  preached  and  bai)tized;  for,  deepest  in  his  heart  was  the  conviction, 
that  there  was  a  Kingdom  at  hand,  and  a  King  coming.  As  we 
gather  the  elements  of  that  conviction,  we  find  them  chiefly  in  the 
Book  of  Isaiah.  His  speech  and  its  imagery,  and,  especially,  the 
burden  of  his  message,  were  taken  from  those  prophecies.^  Indeed, 
his  mind  seems  saturated  with  them;  they  must  have  formed  his  own 
religious  training;  and  they  were  the  preparation  for  his  work.  This 
gathering  up  of  the  Old  Testament  rays  of  light  and  glory  into  the 
burning-glass  of  Evangelic  prophecy  had  set  his  soul  on  fire.  No 
wonder  that,  recoiling  equally  from  the  externalism  of  the  Pharisees, 
and  the  merely  material  purism  of  the  Essenes,  he  preached  quite 
another  doctrine,  of  inward  repentance  and  renewal  of  life. 

One  picture  was  most  brightly  reflected  on  those  pages  of  Isaiah. 
It  was  that  of  the  Anointed,  Messiali,  Christ,  the  Representative 
Israelite,  the  Priest,  King,  and  Prophet,"  in  Whom  the  institution  ms.  ix.e 
and  sacramental  meaning  of  the  Priesthood,  and  of  Sacrifices,  found  xUL:'iii.'io 
their  fulfilment."     In  his  announcement  of  the  Kingdom,  in  his  call  ixi". 
to   inward   repentance,    even  in  his  symbolic  Baptism,   that  Great  ''^^li"- 
Personality  always  stood  out  before  the  mind  of  John,  as  the  One  all- 
overtopping  and  overshadowing  Figure  in  the  background.     It  was 
the  Isaiah-picture  of 'the  King  in  His  beauty,' the  vision  of  'the 

1  This  is  insisted  upon  by  Kcim,  in  floor  and  fan,  xxi.  10;  xxviii.  27  &c. ; 

ills    beautiful    slcetch    of     the    Baptist.  xxx.  24;  xl.  24;  xli.  15  &c. ;  bread  and 

Would  that  he  had  known  the  Master  iu  coat  to  the  jwor,   Iviii.  7 ;    the  garner, 

the  fiilory  of  His  Divinity,  as  he  under-  xxi.  10.     Besnles  these,  the  Isaiah  refer- 

stood  the  Forerunner  in  the  beauty  of  ence  in  his  Baptism  (Is.   lii.   15;  i.  16), 

his  humanity  !     To  show  how  the  whole  and  that  to  tlie  Lamij  of  God — indeed 

teaching  of  tlie  Bai)tist  was,  so  to  speak.  many  otliers  of  a  more  indirect  character, 

saturated     with     Isaiali-langnage     and  will  readily  occur  to  the  reader.     Sinii- 

thoughts,  com)),  not  only  Is.  xl.  3,  as  the  larly,   wlieu  our  Lord  would  afterwards 

burden  of  his  mission,  l)ut  as  to  his  im-  instruct  Inm  in  his  hour  of  darkness  (St. 

agery  (after  A>/«?):  Generation  of  vipers.  .Matt.  xi.  2),  He  points  for  the  solution  of 

Is.  lix.  5;  planting  of  the  Lord,  Is.  v.  7;  iiis  doubts  to  the  well-remembered  pro- 

frees,  vi.  18;  x.   15,  18,  33;  xl.  24;  Jfre.  phecies  of  Isaiah  (Is.   xxxv.  5,  6;  Ixi.  1; 

i.   31;  ix.   18;  x.   17;    v.   24;  xlvii.    14;  viii.  14.  1,->|. 


338  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      land  of  far  distances '"  ^ — to  liim  a  reality,  of  which  Saddiicee  and 
l^l        Essenc  had  no  conception,  and  the  Pharisee  only  the  grossest  mis- 

V -,-—1-^  conception.     This  also  explains  how  the  greatest  of  those  born  of 

"  Is.  xxxiii.   women  was  also  the  most  humble,  the  most  retiring,  and  self-forgetful. 
^'  In  a  picture  such  as  that  which  filled  his  whole  vision,  there  was  no 

room  for  self.  By  the  side  of  such  a  Figure  all  else  appeared  in  its 
real  littleness,  and,  indeed,  seemed  at  best  but  as  shadows  cast  by 
its  light.  All  the  more  would  the  bare  suggestion  on  the  part  of  the 
Jerusalem  deputation,  that  he  might  be  the  Christ,  seem  like  a  blas- 
phemy, from  which,  in  utter  self-abasement,  he  would  seek  shelter  in 
the  scarce-ventured  claim  to  the  meanest  office  which  a  slave  could 
discharge.  He  was  not  Elijah.  Even  the  fact  that  Jesus  afterwards, 
in  significant  language,  pointed  to  the  possibility  of  his  becoming  such 
to  Israel  (St.  Matt.  xi.  14),  proves  that  he  claimed  it  not;'^  not  'that 
prophet';  not  even  a  prophet.  He  professed  not  visions,  revelations, 
special  messages.  All  else  was  absorbed  in  the  great  fact:  he  was 
only  the  voice  of  one  that  cried,  'Prepare  ye  the  way!'  Viewed 
especially  in  the  light  of  those  self-glorious  times,  this  reads  not  like 
a  fictitious  account  of  a  fictitious  mission;  nor  was  such  the  pro- 
fession of  an  impostor,  an  associate  in  a  plot,  or  an  enthusiast.  There 
was  deep  reality  of  all-engrossing  conviction  which  underlay  such  self- 
denial  of  mission. 

And  all  this  must  have  ripened  during  the  forty  days  of  probably 
comparative  solitude,^  only  relieved  by  the  presence  of  such  '  dis- 
ciples'  as,  learning  the  same  hope,  would  gather  around  him.  What 
he  had  seen  and  what  he  had  heard  threw  him  back  upon  what  he 
had  expected  and  believed.  It  not  only  fulfilled,  it  transfigured  it. 
Not  that,  probably,  he  always  maintained  the  same  height  which  he 
then  attained.  It  was  not  in  the  nature  of  things  that  it  should  be 
so.  We  often  attain,  at  the  outset  of  our  climbing,  a  glimpse,  after- 
wards hid  from  us  in  our  laborious  upward  toil  till  the  supreme 
height  is  reached.  Mentally  and  spiritually  we  may  attain  almost 
at  a  bound  results,  too  often  lost  to  us  till  again  secured  by  long 

^  I  cunnot  agree  with  Mr.  Cheyne  ^  We  have  in  a  previous  chapter  sus- 
fPropliecies  of  Is.  vol.  i.  p.  183),  that  gested  that  the  baptism  of  .Tesus  had 
there  is  no  Messianic  reference  here.  It  taken  place  at  Bethai>ara.  that  is,  the  fur- 
may  not  be  in  the  most  literal  sense  "per-  tliest  northern  point  of  his  activity,  and 
so«a%  Messianic;'  but  surely  this  ideal  probably  at  the  close  of  his  haptismdl 
presentation  of  Israel  in  the  perfectness  ministry.  It  is  not  possible  in  this  place 
of  its  kingdom,  and  the  glory  of  its  hap-  to  detail  the  reasons  for  this  view.  But 
piness,  is  one  of  the  fullest  Messianic  pic-  the  learned  reader  will  find  remarks  on  it 
tures  (comp.  vv.  17  to  end).  in  Eeim,  i.  2,  p.  524. 

-  This  is  well  pointed  out  by  Keim. 


THE   TEMPTATION   OF   THE   BAPTIST.  339 

reflection,  or  in  the  course  of  painful  clevelopuient.     Tliis  in  some     CHAP. 
measure  exi)lains  the  fulness  of  John's  testimony  to  the  Christ  as        m 
'the  Lamb  of  God,  Which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world,'  when  ^— ^r^^^ 
at  the  beginning-  we  find  ourselves  almost  at  the  goal  of  New  Testa- 
ment teaching.     It  also  explains  that  last  strife  of  doubt  and  fear, 
wlien    the    weary  wrestler    laid    himself  down  to  find    refreslinient 
and  strength  in  the  shadow  of  those  prophecies,  which  liad  first  called 
him  to  the  contest.     But  during  those  forty  days,  and  in  the  first 
meetings  with  Jesus  whicli  followed,  all  lay  bathed  in  the  morning- 
light  of  that  heavenly  vision,  and  that  Divine  truth  wakened  in  him 
the  eclioes  of  all  those  prophecies,  which  these  thirty  years  had  been 
the  music  of  his  soul. 

And  now,  on  the  last  of  those  forty  days,  simultaneously  with  the 
final  great  Temptation  of  Jesus, ^  which  must  have  summed  up  all 
that  had  preceded  it  in  the  previous  days,  came  the  hour  of  John's 
temptation  by  the  deputation  from  Jerusalem.'-  Very  gently  it  came 
to  him,  like  the  tempered  wind  that  fans  the  fire  into  fianie,  not  like 
that  keen,  desolating  storm-blast  which  swept  over  the  Master.  To 
John,  as  now  to  us,  it  was  only  the  fellowship  of  His  sufferings, 
which  he  bore  in  the  shelter  of  that  great  Rock  over  whicli  its  intense- 
ness  had  spent  itself  Yet  a  very  real  temptation  it  was,  this  pro- 
voking to  the  assumption  of  successively  lower  grades  of  self-asser- 
tion, where  only  entire  self-abnegation  was  the  rightful  feeling.  Each 
suggestion  of  lower  oflice  (like  the  temptations  of  Christ)  marked  an 
increased  measure  of  temptation,  as  the  human  in  his  mission  was 
more  and  more  closely  neared.  And  greatest  temptation  it  was  wiien, 
after  the  first  victory,  came  the  not  unnatural  challenge  of  his  autliority 
for  what  he  said  and  did.  This  was,  of  all  others,  the  question 
which  must  at  all  times,  from  the  beginning  of  his  mission  to  the  hour 
of  his  death,  have  pressed  most  closely  upon  him,  since  it  touched  not 
only  his  conscience,  but  the  very  ground  of  his  mission,  nay,  of  his 
life.  That  it  was  such  temptation  is  evidenced  by  the  fact  that,  in 
the  hour  of  his  greatest  loneliness  and  depression,  it  formed  his  final 
contest,  in  which  he  temporarily  paused,  like  Jacob  in  his  Israeb 
struggle,  though,  like  him,  he  failed  not  in  it.  For  what  was  the 
m<;aning  of  that  question  which  the  disciples  of   John  brought  to 

'  This,  of  course,  on  the  supposition  Bethabara.  since  evidently  it  was  not  for 

that  tlie  Baptism  of  Jesus  tool<  i)lace  at  the  salve  of  any  personal  intercourse  with 

Bethabara,  and  hence  that  the  '  wilder-  ,  Jolui. 

ness  '   into  which    He  was   driven,    was  -  Tliis  is  most  beautifully  sui^ii-ested  by 

close  by.    It  is  difficult  to  see  why,  on  Canon  Ues^'rf^/^  in  his  Commentary  on  the 

any  other  sni)position,  Jesus  returnecl  to  passau'c. 


340 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK      Jesus:   '  Art  Thou  He  tliat  should  come,  or  do  \vc  look  for  another  ?' 
ni        other  than  doubt  of  his  own  warrant  and  authority  for  what  he 

^■-"■"v^""-^  had  said  and  done  ?  But  in  that  tirst  time  of  his  trial  at  Jietha- 
bara  hv  overcame — the  first  temptation  by  the  humility  of  his 
intense  sincerity,  the  second  by  the  absolute  simplicity  of  his  own 
experimental  conviction;  the  first  by  what  he  had  seen,  the  second 
by  what  he  had  heard  concerning  the  Christ  at  tlie  banks  of  Jordan. 
And  so,  also,  although  perhaps  'afar  off,'  it  must  ever  be  to  us  in  like 
temptation. 

Yet,  as  we  view  it,  and  without  needlessly  imputing  malice  prepense 
to  the  Pharisaic  deputation,  their  questions  seemed  but  natural.  After 
his  previous  emphatic  disclaimer  at  the  beginning  of  his  preaching  (St. 
Luke  iii.  15j,  of  which  they  in  Jerusalem  could  scarcely  have  been 
ignorant,  the  suggestion  of  his  Mcssiahship — not  indeed  expressly 
made,  but  sufficiently  implied  to  elicit  what  the  language  of  St.  John^ 
shows  to  have  been  the  most  energetic  denial — could  scarcely  have 
been  more  than  tentative.  It  was  otherwise  with  their  question 
whether  he  was  '  Elijah  '  ?  Yet,  bearing  in  mind  what  we  know  of 
the  Jewish  expectations  of  Elijah,  and  how  his  appearance  was  always 
readily  recognised,-  this  also  could  scarcely  have  been  meant  in  its  full 
literality — but  rather  as  ground  for  the  further  question  after  the 
goal  and  warrant  of  his  mission.  Hence  also  John's  disavowing  of 
such  claims  is  not  satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  the  common  ex- 
planation, that  he  denied  being  Elijah  in  the  sense  of  not  being  what 
the  Jews  expected  of  the  Forerunner  of  the  Messiah:  the  real, 
identical  Elijah  of  the  days  of  Ahab;  or  else,  that  he  denied  being 
such  in  the  sense  of  the  peculiar  Jewish  hopes  attaching  to  his 
reappearance  in  the  'last  days.'  There  is  much  deeper  truth  in  the 
disclaimer  of  the  Baptist.     It  was,  indeed,  true  that,  as  foretold  in  the 

a  St.  Luke  i.  Angelic  announcement, '^  he  was  sent  'in  the  spirit  and  power  of 
Elias,'  that  is,  with  the  same  object  and  the  same  qualifications. 
Similarly,  it  is  true  what,  in  His  mournful  reti'ospoct  of  the  result  of 
John's  mission,  and  in  the  prospect  of  His  own  end,  the  Saviour  said 
of  him,  '  Elias  is  indeed  come,'  1)ut  '  they  knew  him  not,  but  have  done 

b  St.  Mark     unto  him  whatsoever  thev  listed.'  ^     But  on  this  very  recognition  and 

ix.  13;  St.  "  . 

Matt.'xvii.  reception  of  him  by  the  Jews  depended  his  being  to  thcni  Elijah 
— who  should  '  turn  the  hearts  of  the  fathers  to  the  children,  and  the 


^  '  He  confes.sed,  and  denied  not '  (St. 
John  i.  20).  Canon  Wextcoff  points  out, 
that  '  the  combination  of  a  positive  and 
negative '  is  intended  to  '  express  the 
fulness  of  trutli,'  and  that  'the  first  term 


marks  tlie  readiness  of  his  testimony,  the 
second  its  completeness.' 

^  See  Appendix  Vlll. :  '  Rabhinic Tra- 
ditions about  Elijah,  the  Forerunner  of 
the  Messiah.' 


THE   QUESTIONING   OF  THE   PHARISEES.  34I 

disobedient  to  the  wisdom  of  the  just,'  and  so  'restore  all  tilings.'     chap. 
Between  the  Elijah  of  Ahab's  reign,  and  him  of  Messianic  times,  lay        ill 
the  wide  cleft  of  quite  another  dispensation.     The  '  spirit  and  power  of  ^ — ^r — ' 
Elijah  ■  could  '  restin-e  all  things,'  because  it  was  the  dispensation  of 
the  Old  Testament,  in  which  the  result  was  outward,  and  by  outward 
means.     But  'the  spirit  and  power'  of  the  Elijah  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment, which  was  to  accomplish  the  inward  restoration  through  peni- 
tent  reception   of  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  its  reality,  could   only 
accomplish   that  object  if   'they  received  it' — if  'they  knew  him.' 
And  as  in  his  own  view,  and  looking  around  and  forward,  so  also  in 
very  fact  the  Baptist,  tho-igh  Divinely  such,  was  not  really  Elijah  to 
Israel — and  this  is  the  meaning  of  the  words  of  Jesus:   'And  if  ye 
will  receive  it,  this  is  Elias,  which  was  for  to  come.  "^  « st.  Matt. 

More  natural  still — indeed,  almost  quite  truthful,  seems  the  third 
question  of  the  Pharisees,  whether  the  Baptist  was  'that  prophet.' 
The  reference  here  is  undoubtedly  to  Deut.  xviii,  15,  18.  Not 
that  the  reappearance  of  Moses  as  lawgiver  was  expected.  But  as 
the  prediction  of  the  eighteenth  chapter  of  Deuteronomy,  especially 
when  taken  in  connection  with  the  promise''  of  a   'new  covenant'   "/f^- ^^^ 

^  31  &c. 

with  a  '  new  law '  written  in  the  hearts   of  the  people,  implied  a 

change  in  this  respect,  it  was  but  natural  that  it  should  have  been 

expected  in  Messianic  days  by  the  instrumentality  of  '  that  prophet.' ' 

Even  the  various  opinions  broached  in  the  Mishnah,"  as  to  what  ^Eduy.viii. 

were  to  be  the  reformatory  and  legislative  functions  of  Elijah,  prove 

that  such  expectations  were  connected  with  the  Forerunner  of  the 

Messiah. 

But  whatever  views  the  Jewish  embassy  might  have  entertained 
concerning  the  abrogation,  renewal,  or  renovation  of  the  Law''*  in 
Messianic  times,  the  Baptist  repelled  the  suggestion  of  his  being 
'  that  prophet '  with  the  same  energy  as  those  of  his  being  either  the 
Christ  or  Elijah.  And  just  as  we  notice,  as  the  result  of  those  forty 
days'  communing,  yet  deeper  humility  and  self-al)ncgation  on  the 
part  of  the  Baptist,  so  we  also  mark  increased  intensity  and  direct- 
ness in  the  testimony  which  he  now  bears  to  the  Christ  before  the 
Jerusalem  deputies.'*  '  His  eye  is  fixed  on  the  Coming  One.'  'He  is  ast.  Johni. 
as  a  voice  not  to  be  inquired  about,  but  heard;'  and  its  clear  and 

1  Can  the  reference  in  St.  Stephen's  does  not  deny  the  charge,  and  that  his 

speecli  (Acts  vii.  37)  ai)ply  to  this  ex-  contention  is,  tliat  tlie  Jews  wiciveiUy  re- 

l)ected  alteration  of  the  Law  ?  At  any  rate  sisted  the  autliority  of  Jesus  {w.  51-58). 

St.  Stephen  is  on  his  defence  for  teaching  -  For  the  Jewish  views  on  the  Law  in 

the  abolition  by  Jesus  of  the  Old  Testa-  I\fessianic  times,    see  Appendix    XIV. : 

nient  economy.     It  is  remarkable  that  he  '  The  Law  in  Messianic  Days.' 


342  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      uuiinstaka])le,  V)ut  deeply  reverent  utterance  is:   'The  Coming  One 
III        has  come.'  ^ 
'— ^-"^         Tlie  reward  of  his  overcoming  temptation — yet  with  it  also  the 
fitting  for  still  fiercer  conflict  (which  two,  indeed,  are  always  con- 
joined), was  at  hand.     After  His  victorious  contest  with  the  Devil, 
Angels  had  come  to  minister  to  Jesus  in  ]:)ody  and  soul.     But  better 
than  Angels'  vision   came   to   refresh   and   strengthen   His  faithful 
witness  John.     On  the  very  day  of  the  Baptist's  temptation  Jesus 
had  left  the  wilderness.     On  the  morrow  after  it,  '  John  seeth  Jesus 
coming  unto  him,  and  saith,  Behold,  the  Lamb  of  God,  Which  taketh 
away  the  sin  of  the  world ! '     We  cannot  doubt,  that  the  thought  here 
present  to  the  mind  of  John  was  the  description  of  '  The  Servant  of 
a  Is.  ui.  13    Jehovah, ""  as  set  forth  in  Is.  liii.     If  all  along  the  Baptist  had  been 
filled  with  Isaiah-thoughts  of  the  Kingdom,  surely  in  the  forty  days 
after  he  had  seen  the  King,  a  new  'morning'  must  have  risen  upon 
tis.  vui.  20  them,"  and  the  halo  of  His  glory  shone  around  the  well-remembered 
CIS.  In.  13-  prophecy.     It  must  always   have   been   Messiauically   understood;" 
it  formed  the  groundwork  of  Messianic  thought  to  the  New  Testament 
"  comp.  St.  writers'' — nor  did  the  Synagogue  read  it  otherwise,  till  the  necessities 
i7?st.Luke  of  controversy  diverted  its  application,  not  indeed  from  the  tiines, 
Acts  viii.      but  from  the  Person  of  the  Messiah.^     But  w^e  can  understand  how, 
22"     '^ ' "'   during  those  forty  days,  this  greatest  height  of  Isaiah's  conception  of 
the  Messiah  was  the  one  outstanding  fact  before  his  view.     And  what 
he  believed,  that  he  spake,  when  again,  and  unexpectedly,  he  saw 
Jesus. 

Yet,  while  regarding  his  words  as  an  appeal  to  the  prophecy  of 
Isaiah,  two  other  references  must  not  be  excluded  from  them:  those 
to  the  Paschal  Lamb,  and  to  the  Daily  Sacrifice.  These  are,  if  not 
directly  pointed  to,  yet  implied.  For  the  Paschal  Lamb  was,  in  a 
sense,  the  basis  of  all  the  sacrifices  of  the  Old  Testament,  not  only 
from  its  saving  import  to  Israel,  but  as  that  which  really  made  them 
'the  Church,'^  and  people  of  God.  Hence  the  institution  of  the 
Paschal  Lamb  was,  so  to  speak,  only  enlarged  and  applied  in  the 
daily  sacrifice  of  a  Lamb,  in  which  this  twofold  idea  of  redemption 
and  fellowship  was  exhibited.     Lastly,  the  prophecy  of  Isaiah  liii.  was 

'  The  words  within  quotations  are  those  and  exhaustive  discussions  by  Dr.  Piisey 

of  Archdeacon  Watkins,  in  his  Commen-  in   his    introduction   to    the    catena    of 

tary  on  St.  John.  Jewisli  Interpretations  of  Is.  liii. 

-  Manifestly,  whatever  interpretation  is  •*  To   those  persons  who  deny  to  the 

made  of  Is.  iii.  l.'i-iiii.,  it  applies  to  Mes-  people  of  God  under  the  Old  Testament 

sianic  times,  even  if  the  sufferer  were,  as  the    designation    Church,  we   comnuMid 

the  Synagogue  now  contends,  Israel.     On  the  use  of  that  term  by  St.  Stephen  in 

the  whole  subject  comp.  the  most  learned  Acts  vii.  38. 


'THE   LAMB   OF   GOD.' 


343 


but  the  complete  realisation  of  these  two  ideas  in  the  Messiah,      chap 
Neither  could  the  Paschal  Lamb,   with  its  completion  in  the  Daily         m 
Sacrifice,  be  properly  viewed  without  this  pro})hecy  of  Isaiah,  nor  yet  ^-^^^^^-^^ 
that  prophecy  properly  understood  without  its  reference  to  its  two 
great  types.     And  here  one  Jewish  comment  in  regard  to  the  Daily 
Sacrifice  (not  previously  pointed  out)  is  the  more  significant,  that 
it  dates  from  the  very  time  of  Jesus.     The  passage  reads  almost  like 
a  Christian  interpretation  of  sacrifice.     It  exi)lains  how  the  morning 
and  evening  sacrifices  were  intended  to  atone,  the  one  for  the  sins  of 
the  night,  the  other  for  those  of  the  day,  so  as  ever  to  leave  Israel 
guiltless  before  God;  and  it  expressly  ascribes  to  them  the  efficacy  of 
a  Faradete — that  being  the  word  used.''     Without  further  following  ''P^'sicita, 

"  _  "    ed.  Jiub''>-  J). 

this  renmrkable  Rabbinic  commentation,  ^  which  stretches  back  its  view  ^^ ''  •  <^""U'- 

'  _  mf>re  tuUy 

of  sacrifices  to  the  Paschal  Lamb,  and,  beyond  it,  to  that  ofiering  of  inYaikut 
Isaac  by  Abraham  which,  in  the  Rabbinic  view,  was  the  substratwm  bin 
of  all  sacrifices,  wo  turn  again  to  its  teaching  about  the  Lamb  of  the  '' ''' 
Daily  Sacrifice.     Hero  we  have  the  express  statement,  that  both  the 
school  of  Shanmiai  and  that  of  Hillel — the  latter  more  fully — insisted 
on  the  s3inbolic  import  of  this  sacrifice  in  regard  to  the  forgiveness  of 
sin.     '  Kebhasim '  (the  Hebrew  word  for  '  lambs '),  explained  the  school 
of  Shammai,  'because,  according  to  Micali  vii.  19,  they  suppress  [in 
the  A.Y.  'subdue']  our  iniquities  (the  Hebrew  word  KabJiash  mean- 
ing he  who  su})presseth).' ^     Still  more  strong  is  the  statement  of  the 
school  of  Hillel,  to  the  eftect  that  the  sacrificial  lambs  were  termed 
Kebhasim  (from  Jcabhas,  '■  to  wash '),  '■  because  they  wash  away  the 
sins  of  Israel."'     The  qucrtation  just  made  gains  additional  interest  "And this 
from  the  circumstance,  that  it  occurs  in  a  'meditation'  (if  such  it  special 

'  ^  reference 

may  be  called)  for  the  new  moon  of  the  Passover-month  (Msan).  In  to  is.  i.  is 
view  of  such  clear  testimony  from  the  time  of  Christ,  less  positiveness 
of  assertion  might,  not  unreasonably,  be  expected  from  those  who 
declare  that  the  sacrifices  bore  no  reference  to  the  forgiveness  of  sins, 
just  as,  in  the  face  of  the  application  made  by  the  Baptist  and  other 
New  Testament  writers,  more  exegetical  modesty  seems  called  for  on 
the  part  of  those  who  deny  the  Messianic  references  in  Isaiah, 

If  further  proof  were  required  that,  when  John  pointed  the  by- 
standers to  the  Figure  of  Jesus  walking  towards  them,  with  these 
words  :  'Behold,  the  Lamb  of  God,'  he  meant  more  than  His  gentle- 
ness, meekness,  and  humility,  it  would  be  supplied  by  the  qualifying 

'  This  appears  more   clearly    iu    the      same.  CTir.     lu  Hillel's  derivation   it 
Hebrew,  where  hoth  words  (' lambs'  and      is  identified  with  the  root  Z22  ='£'23. 
'suppressors')   are  written  exactly  the 


344  J"'1J<»-^I   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  explanation,  '  Which  taketh  away  tlic  sin  of  tlie  world.'  Wc  prci'er 
in  rendoring  the  expression  '  talvcth  away  '  instead  of  '  bcaretli,'  because 
^- — ^r — '  it  is  in  that  sense  that  the  LXX.  uniformly  use  the  Greek  term.  Of 
course,  as  ive  view  it,  the  taking  away  presupposes  the  taking  upon 
Himself  of  the  sin  of  the  world.  13 ut  it  is  not  necessary  to  suppose 
that  the  Baptist  clearly  understood  that  manner  of  His  Saviourship, 
which  only  long  afterwards,  and  reluctantly,  came  to  the  followers  of 
the  Lamb.^  That  he  understood  the  application  of  His  ministry  to 
the  whole  world,  is  only  what  might  have  been  expected  of  one  taught 
by  Isaiah;  and  what,  indeed,  in  one  or  another  form,  the  Synagogue 
has  always  believed  of  the  Messiah.  What  was  distinctive  in  the 
words  of  the  Baptist,  seems  his  view  of  sin  as  a  totality,  rather  than 
sins:  implying  the  removal  of  that  great  barrier  between  God  and 
mail,  and  the  triumph  in  that  great  contest  indicated  in  Gen.  iii.  15, 
which  Israel  after  the  flesh  failed  to  perceive.  Nor  should  we  omit 
here  to  notice  an  undesigned  evidence  of  the  Hebraic  origin  of  the 
fourth  Gosi)el;  for  an  Ephesian  Gospel,  dating  from  the  close  of  the 
second  century,  would  not  have  placed  in  its  forefront,  as  the  first 
public  testimony  of  the  Baptist  (if,  indeed,  it  would  have  introduced 
him  at  all),  a  quotation  from  Isaiah — still  less  a  sacrificial  reference. 
The  motives  which  brought  Jesus  back  to  Bethabara  must  remain 
in  the  indefiniteness  in  which  Scripture  has  left  them.  So  far  as  we 
know,  there  was  no  personal  interview  between  Jesus  and  the  Bajitist. 
Jesus  had  then  and  there  nothing  further  to  say  to  the  Baptist;  and 
yet  on  the  day  following  that  on  which  John  had,  in  such  manner, 
pointed  Him  out  to  the  bystanders,  He  was  still  there,  only  return- 
ing to  Galilee  the  next  day.  Here,  at  least,  a  definite  object  becomes 
apparent.  This  was  not  merely  the  calling  of  His  first  disciples,  but 
the  necessary  Sabbath  rest;  for,  in  this  instance,  the  narrative  supplies 
the  means  of  ascertaining  the  days  of  the  week  on  which  each  event 
took  place.  We  have  only  to  assume,  that  the  marriage  in  Cana  of 
Galilee  was  that  of  a  maiden,  not  a  widow.  The  great  festivities  which 
accompanied  it  were  unlikely,  according  to  Jewish  ideas,  in  the  case 
of  a  widow;  in  fact,  the  whole  mise  en  scene  of  the  marriage  renders 
this  most  improbable.  Besides,  if  it  had  been  the  marriage  of  a  widow, 
this  (as  will  immediately  appear)  would  imply  that  Jesus  had  returned 

1  This  meets  the  objection  of /um  (i.  2,  But,  surely,  it  is  a  most  straiifje  idea  of 

p,  552),  which  proceefk  on  the  assumi)tion  Godef,  that  at  Ilis  Baptism  .Jesus,  like  all 

that  tlie  words  of  the  Baptist  imply  that  others,  made  confession  of  sins;  that,  as 

he  knew  not  merely  that,  but  hoir.  .Jesus  lie  had  none  of  Ills  own,  lie  set  before 

would  take  away  the  sin  of   the  world.  the  Baittist  the  jiicture  of  tlie  sin  of  Israel 

But  his  words  certainly  do  not  oblige  us  and  of  the  ■world;  and  that  (his  had  led 

to  lliink,  that  he  had  the  Cross  in  view.  to  the  designation:   -The  Liunb  of  (Jod, 


ii.  1 


THE   FIRST    WEEK   OF   CHRIST'S   MINISTRY.  345 

from  the  wilderness  on  a  Saturday,  which,  as  being  the  Jewish  Sabljath,      CIIAP. 
couhl  not  have  been  the  case.     For  uniform  custom  tLxcd  the  marriage        ^^^ 
of  a  maiden  on  Wednesdays,  that  of  a  widow  on  Thursday.'     Count-  ^— "V*^ 
ing  backwards  from  the  day  of  the  marriage  in  Cana,we  arrive  at  the 
following  results.     The  interview  between  John  and  the  Saiiliedrin- 
deputation  took  place  on  a  Thursday.     '■  The  next  day,'  i^r«?a//,  Jesus 
returned  from  the  wilderness  of  the  Temptation,  and  John  bore  his 
first  testimony  to  '  the  Lamb  of  God.'     The  following  day,  when  Jesus 
appeared  a  second  time  in  view,  and  when  the  first  two  disciples  joined 
Him,  was  the  Saturday,  or  Jewish  Sabbath.     It  was,  therefore,  only 
the  following  day,  or  Sunday,"  that  Jesus  returned  to  Galilee,^  calling  ".^i-  Jo^"'- 
others  by  the  way.      'And  the  third  day 'after  if — that  is,  on  the  1.  st.  joun 
Wednesday — was  the  marriage  in  Cana.^ 

If  we  group  around  these  days  the  recorded  events  of  each,  they 
almost  seem  to  intensify  in  significance.  The  Friday  of  John's  first 
pointing  to  Jesus  as  the  Lamb  of  God,  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of 
the  world,  recalls  that  other  Friday,  when  the  full  import  of  that 
testimony  appeared.  The  Sabbath  of  John's  last  personal  view  and 
testimony  to  Christ  is  symbolic  in  its  retrospect  upon  the  old  economy. 
It  seems  to  close  the  ministry  of  John,  and  to  open  that  of  Jesus;  it 
is  the  leave-taking  of  the  nearest  disciples  of  John  from  the  old,  their 
search  after  the  new.  And  then  on  the  first  Sunday — the  beginning 
of  Christ's  active  ministry,  the  call  of  the  first  disciples,  the  first 
preaching  of  Jesus. 

As  we  picture  it  to  ourselves:  in  the  early  morning  of  that /S'a&&a^^ 
John  stood,  with  the  two  of  his  disciples  who  most  shared  his  thoughts 
and  feelings.  One  of  them  we  know  to  have  been  Andrew  (v.  40); 
the  other,  unnamed  one,  could  have  been  no  other  than  John  himself, 
the  beloved  disciple.*  They  had.  heard  what  their  teacher  had,  on  the 
previous  day,  said  of  Jesus.  But  then  He  seemed  to  them  but  as  a 
passing  Figure.  To  hear  more  of  Him,  as  Avell  as  in  deepest  sympathy, 
these  two  had  gathered  to  their  Teacher  on  that  Sabbath  morning, 
while  the  other  disciples  of  John  were  probably  engaged  with  that, 
and  with  those,  which  formed  the  surroundings  of  an  ordinary  Jewish 
Sabbath.^   And  now  that  Figure  once  more  appeared  in  view.    None 

Which  taketli  away  the  sin  of  the  world.'  •■*  Yet  Reiian  speaks  of  the  first  chapters 

'  For    the    reasons    of    this,     comp.  of  St.  John's  Gospel  as  scattered  notices, 

'Sketches  of  Jewish  Social  Life,'  p.  151.  without  clironolo.u'ical  order! 

'■*  This  may  be  regarded  as  another  of  "•  This  reticence  seems  another  uu- 
the  undesiijned  evidences  of  the  Hebraic  designed  evidence  of  Johannine  author- 
origin  of  the  fourth  Gospel.     Indeed,  it  ship. 

might  also  be  almost  called  an  evidence  '"  The  Greek  has  it:   'John  was  stand- 

of  the  truth  of  the  whole  narrative.  ing,  and  from  among  his  disciples  two.' 


346  vmm  j()iU)AN  TO  THE  mount  of  transfiguration. 

BOOK  ^vith  the  Bui)tist  but  these  two.  He  is  not  teacliing  now,  but  learning, 
HI  as  the  intensity  and  penetration  of  his  gaze'  calls  from  him  the  now 
^- — ^-^-^  worshipful  repetition  of  what,  on  the  previous  day,  he  had  explained 
and  enforced.  There  was  no  leave-taking  on  the  part  of  these  two — 
perhaps  they  meant  not  to  leave  John.  Only  an  irresistible  impulse,  a 
heavenly  instinct,  bade  them  follow  His  steps.  It  needed  no  direc- 
tion of  John,  no  call  from  Jesus.  But  as  they  went  in  modest  silence, 
in  the  dawn  of  their  rising  faith,  scarce  conscious  of  the  ivhat  and  the 
tvJnj,  He  turned  Ilim.  It  was  not  because  He  discerned  it  not,  but 
just  because  He  knew  the  real  goal  of  their  yet  unconscious  search, 
and  would  bring  them  to  know  ivhat  they  sought,  that  He  put  to  them 
the  question,  '  What  seek  ye? '  which  elicited  a  reply  so  simple,  so  real, 
as  to  carry  its  own  evidence.  He  is  still  to  them  the  Rabbi — the 
most  honoured  title  they  can  find — yet  marking  still  the  strictly 
Jewish  view,  as  well  as  their  own  standpoint  of  '  Wliat  seek  ye? ' 
They  wish,  yet  scarcely  dare,  to  say  what  was  their  object,  and  only 
put  it  in  a  form  most  modest,  suggestive  rather  than  expressive.  There 
is  strict  correspondence  to  their  view  in  the  words  of  Jesus.  Their 
very  Hebraism  of  '  Rabbi '  is  met  by  the  equally  Hebraic  '  Come  and 
see;'^  their  unspoken,  but  half-conscious  longing  by  what  the  invi- 
tation implied  (according  to  the  most  probable  reading,  '  Come  and  ye 
shall  see'^). 

It  was  but  early  morning — ten  o'clock.*    What  passed  on  that 
long   Sabbath-day  we  know  not  save  from  what   happened  in  its 

1  The  word  implies  earnest,  penetrat-  by  wliicli  Rabban  Gamaliel  is  flesignateil 

ing  gaze.  in  Sliabb.  115  a.    It  literally  means  '  be- 

■^  The  precise  date  of  tlie  origin  of  this  longing  to  the  house  of  a  Rabbi,' — as  we 
designation  is  not  ([uite  clear.  We  find  would  say,  a  Rabbi  of  Rabbis.  On  the 
it  in  threefold  development: -Rrt&, -R«6&«,  other  hand,  the  expression  '  Come  and 
and  Rabban — 'amplitudo,'  '  amplitudo  see 'is  among  tlie  most  common  Rab- 
mea,'  *  amplitudo  nostra,'  which  mark  binic  formulas,  although  generally  con- 
successive  stages.  As  the  laM  of  these  nected  Avith  tlie  acquisition  of  special 
titles  was  borne  by  the  grandson  of  llillel  and  important  information. 
(a.d.  30-50),  it  is  only  reasonable  to  ^  Com)).  Canon  Westcotf's  note, 
suppose  that  the  two  preceding  ones  were  ■•  The  common  supposition  is,  that  the 
current  a  generation  and  more  before  time  must  be  computed  according  to  the 
that.  Again,  we  have  to  distinguish  the  Jewish  motliod,  in  which  case  the  tenth 
original  and  earlier  use  of  the  title  when  hour  would  represent  4  p.m.  But  re- 
it  only  applied  to  teachers,  and  the  later  membering  that  the  Jewish  day  ended 
usage  when,  like  the  word  'Doctor,^  it  with  sunset,  it  could,  in  that  case,  have 
was  giveu  indiscriminately  to  men  of  been  scarcely  marked,  that  '  they  abode 
supposed  learning.  When  Jesus  is  so  ad-  with  Him  that  day.'  The  correct  inter- 
dressed  it  is  in  the  sense  of 'my  Teacher.'  pretation  would  therefore  point  in  this. 
Nor  can  there  be  any  reasonable  doubt,  as  in  the  other  passages  of  St.  John,  to 
that  thus  it  was  generally  current  in  and  the  Asiatic  numeration  of  hours,  corres- 
before  the  time  noted  in  the  Gospels.  A  ponding  to  our  own.  Comp.  J.  B.  Mc- 
still  higher  title  than  any  of  these  three  Lellau's  New  Testament,  pp.  740-742. 
seems  to  have  been  Bei-ibbi,  or  Berabbi, 


THE    FIRST   FOUR   DLSCirLErf. 


347 


course.     From  it  issucMl  the  two,  not  learners  now  hut  teachers,  bear-     cilAP. 
ing  what  they  had  found  to  those  nearest  and  dearest.     The  furni  of        ^'l 
the  narrative  and  its  very  Avords  convey,  that  the  two  had  gone,  each  ^ — ^'^^ 
to  searcli  for  his  brother — An(b*ew  for  Simon  Peter,  and  John  for 
James,  tliough  here  ah-eady,  at  the  outset  of  this  history,  the  haste 
of  energy  characteristic  of  the  sons  of  Jona  outdistanced  tlie  more 
quiet    intenseness   of  John:''    'He    (Andrew)  first  findeth  his  own  "^-^ 
brother.' '   But  Andrew  and  John  equally  brought  the  same  announce- 
ment,  still  markedly  Hebraic  in  its  form,  yet  filled  with  the  new 
wine,  not  only  of  conviction,  but  of  joyous  apprehension:   'We  have 
found  the  Messias.''     This,  then,  was  the  outcome  to  them  of  that 
day — He  was  the  Messiah;  and  this  the  goal  which  their  longing 
had  reached,  '  We  have  found  Him.'     Quite  beyond  what  they  had 
heard  from  the  Baptist;  nay,  what  only  i)ersonal  contact  with  Jesus 
can  carry  to  any  heart. 

And  still  this  day  of  first  marvellous  discovery  had  not  closed.  It 
almost  seems,  as  if  this  '  Come  and  see '  call  of  Jesus  were  emblematic, 
not  merely  of  all  that  followed  in  His  own  ministry,  but  of  the 
manner  in  which  to  all  time  the  'What  seek  ye?'  of  the  soul  is 
answered.  It  could  scarcely  have  been  but  that  Andrew  had  told 
Jesus  of  his  brother,  and  even  asked  leave  to  bring  him.  The  search- 
ing, penetrating  glance'^  of  the  Saviour  now  read  in  Peter's  inmost 
character  his  future  call  and  work:  'Thou  art  Simon,  the  son  of 
John* — thou  Shalt  be  called^  Cephas,  which  is  interpreted  (Grecian- 
ised)  Peter. '^ 

It  must  not,  of  course,  be  supposed  that  this  represents  all  that 
had  passed  between  Jesus  and  Peter,  any  more  than  that  the 
recorded  expression  was  all  that  Andrew  and  John  had  said  of  Jesus 
to  their  brothers.  Of  the  interview  between  John  and  James  his 
brother,  the  writer,  with  his  usual  self-reticence,  forbears  to  speak. 
But  we  know  its  result;  and,  knowing  it,  can  form  some  conception 
of  what  passed  on  that  holy  evening  between  the  new-found  Messiah 
and  His  first  four  disciples:  of  teaching  manifestation  on  His  part, 
and   of  satisfied   heart-peace   on   theirs.      As  yet  they   were  only 

'  This  appears  from  the  word  'first,'  ^  The  same  word  as  that  used  iu  regard 

used  as  an  adjective  here,  v.  41  (although  to  tiie  Baptist  looking  upon  Jesus, 

the  reading  is  doubtful),  and  from  the  iin-  ■»  So  according  to  the  best  text,  and 

plied  reference  to  some  one  else  later  on.  not  Jona. 

^  On    the    reading    of    the    Aramaic  ^  '  Hereafter  thou  shalt  win  the  name.' 

Meshichn  hy  Messias,  see  Delitzsch  iu  — Westcott. 

the  Luther.  Zeitschr.  for  1876,  p.  (iO;^.  «  So  in  the  Greek,  of  which  the  En,<ilish 

Of  course,  both  Messias  and  Christ  mean  interpretation  is  'a  stone' — KeijpJi,  or 

'the  Anointed.'  Keypha,  'a  rock.' 


348  FHOM    .TORDAX   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      followers,  learners,  not  yet  called  to  be  Apostles,  with  all  of  entire 
III        renunciation  of  home,  family,  and  other  calling  which  this  implied. 

"- — i Tills,    in   the   course   of  proper   development,    remained   for   quite 

another  period.     Alike  their  knowledge  and  their  faith  for  the  pre- 
sent needed,  and  could  only  bear,  the  call  to  personal  attachment.^ 

It  was  Sunday  morning,  the  first  of  Christ's  Mission-work,  the 
first  of  His  Preaching.  He  was  purposing  to  return  to  Galilee.  It 
was  fitting  He  should  do  so:  for  the  sake  of  His  new  disciples;  for 
W'hat  He  was  to  do  in  Galilee;  for  His  own  sake.  The  first  Jerusalem- 
visit  must  be  prepared  for  by  them  all;  and  He  would  not  go  there 
till  the  right  time — for  the  Paschal  Feast.  It  was  probal)ly  a  distance 
of  about  twenty  miles  from  Bethabara  to  Cana.  By  the  way,  two 
other  disciples  were  to  be  gained — this  time  not  brought,  but  called, 
where,  and  in  what  precise  circumstances,  we  know^  not.  But  the 
notice  that  Philip  was  a  fellow-townsman  of  Andrew  and  Peter, 
seems  to  imply  some  instrumentality  on  their  part.  Similarly,  we 
gather  that,  afterwards,  Philip  was  somewhat  in  advance  of  the  rest, 
when  he  found  his  acquaintance  Nathanael,  and  engaged  in  conver- 
sation with  him  just  as  Jesus  and  the  others  came  up.  But  here 
also  we  mark,  as  another  characteristic  trait  of  John,  that  he,  and 
his  brother  with  him,  seem  to  have  clung  close  to  the  Person  of 
Christ,  just  as  did  Mary  afterwards  in  the  house  of  her  brother.  It 
was  this  intense  exclusiveness  of  fellowship  with  Jesus  which  traced 
on  his  mind  that  fullest  picture  of  the  God-Man,  which  his  narrative 
reflects. 

The  call  to  Philip  from  the  lips  of  the  Saviour  met,  we  know  not 
nnder  what  circumstances,  immediate  responsive  obedience.  Yet, 
though  no  special  obstacles  had  to  be  overcome,  and  hence  no 
special  narrative  was  called  for,  it  must  have  implied  much  of  learn- 
ing, to  judge  from  what  he  did,  and  from  what  he  said  to  Nathanael. 
There  is  something  special  about  Nathanael's  conquest  by  Christ — 
rather  implied,  perhaps,  than  expressed — and  of  which  the  Lord's 
words  give  significant  hints.  They  seem  to  point  to  what  had  passed 
in  his  mind  just  before  Philip  found  him.      Alike  the  expression  '  an 

'V.  47.         Israelite  in  truth,  in  whom  is  no  guile  "'—looking  back   on   what 
changed  the  name  of  Jacob  into  Israel — and  the  evident  reference  to 


'  The  evidence  for  the  ^eat  historic  by  Canon  Westrott.  To  these  and  other 
diflerence  between  this  call  to  personal  commentators  tlie  reader  must  Tie  re- 
attachment, and  that  to  the  Apostolate,  ferred  on  this  and  many  iiohits,  Avhich  it 
is  shown — I  should  tliink  beyond  the  would  be  out  of  place  to  discuss  at  length 
power  of  cavil — by  Godet,  and  especially  in  this  Ijook. 


THE   CALL   OF   rillLIP  AND   XATHANAEL.  349 

the  full  roalisation  of  Jacob's  vi>si(^u  in  Bcthc]."  may  be  an  indication     chap. 
that  this  very  vision  had  eno-aged  his  thoughts.     As  the  Synagogue        m 
understood  the  narrative,  its  application  to  the  then  state  of  Israel  ^— ^r^*-^ 
and  the  Messianic  hoi)e  would  most  readily  suggest  itself.     Tutting  "'^•^^ 
aside  all  extravagances,  tlie  Synagogue  thought,  in  connection  with 
it,  of  the  rising  })ower  of  the  Gentiles,  but  concluded  with  the  pre- 
cious comfort  of  the  assurance,  in  Jer.  xxx.   11,  of  Israel's    tinal 
restoration."    Nathanael  (Theodore,  '  the  gift  of  God,')  had,  as  we  '■Tan- 

^  .  .        chuma  on 

often  read  of  Rabbis,^  rested  for  prayer,  meditation,  or  study,  m  the  pas- 
the  shadow  of  that  wide-spreading  tree  so  common  in  Palestine,  the  warsh. 

.  .  .         '     .  p.  38  a,  6 

tig-tree.^  The  approaching  Passover-season,  perhaps  mingling  with 
thoughts  of  John's  announcement  by  the  banks  of  Jordan,  would 
naturally  suggest  the  great  deliverance  of  Israel  in  '  the  age  to 
come;'"  all  the  more,  perhaps,  from  the  painful  contrast  in  the  '^ so m Tan- 
present.  Such  a  verse  as  that  with  which,  in  a  well-known  Rabbinic 
work, '^  the  meditation  for  the  New  Moon  of  Nisan,  the  Passover  •^Pesiqta 
month,  closes:  'Happy  is  he  that  hath  the  God  of  Jacob  for  his 
hell),"' would  recur,  and  so  lead  back  the  mind  to  the  suggestive  -  Pa.  cxm. 

.    .  .  ...  5:  Pesiqta, 

symbol  of  Jacob's  vision,  and  its  realisation  m  'the  age  to  come.' '       ed.  Buber. 

.    .  .  .  p.  62  a 

These  are,  of  course,  only  suppositions;  but  it  might  well  be  that  r^an- 
Philip  had  found  him  while  still  ])usy  with  such  thoughts.  Possibly  u^g.°^^' 
their  outcome,  and  that  quite  in  accordance  with  Jewish  belief  at 
the  time,  may  have  been,  that  all  that  was  needed  to  bring  that 
hapi^jy  '  age  to  come  '  was,  that  Jacob  should  become  Israel  in  truth. 
In  such  case  he  would  himself  have  been  ripening  for  '  the  King- 
dom '  that  was  at  hand.  It  must  have  seemed  a  startling  answer  to 
his  thoughts,  this  announcement,  made  with  the  freshness  of  new 
and  joyous  conviction:  'We  have  found  Him  of  Whom  Moses  in  the 
Law,  and  the  Prophets,  did  write.'  But  this  addition  about  the  Man 
of  Nazareth,  the  Son  of  Joseph,^  would  appear  a  terrible  anti-climax. 
It  was  so  difl'erent  from  anything  that  he  had  associated  either 
with  the  great  hope  of  Israel,  or  with  the  Nazareth  of  his  own  neigh- 
bourhood, that  his  exclamation,  without  implying  any  special  impu- 
tation on  the  little  town  which  he  knew  so  well,  seems  not  only 
natural,  but,    psychologically,    deeply    true.     There    was  but    one 

'  Corroborative   and  illustrative  pas-  seems  to  me,  without  historical  p;rouiid. 

sages  are  here  too   numerous,  perhaps  ^  This,    as   it  would    seem,    needless 

also   not    sutficiently   important,    to  be  addition  (if  the  narrative  were  fictitious) 
quoted  in  detail.                                             .   is  of  the  highest  evidential  value.     In  an 

'^  Etrald  imagines  that  this  '  fig-tree '  Ephesian  Gospel  of  the  end  of  the  second 

had  been  in  tlie  garden  of  Nathanael's  century  it  would  have  been  well-nigh 

house  at  Cana,  and  Archdeacon  Watkuis  inii)0ssible. 
seems  to  adopt  this   view,    but,    as   it 


350  FROM    .lOKDAX   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  answer  to  this — that  which  Pliilii)  made,  which  Jesus  had  made  to 
ni  Andrew  and  John,  and  whicli  has  ever  since  l)een  the  best  answer  to 
^— 'v- — '  all  Cliristian  inquiry:  '  Come  and  see.'  And,  despite  the  disappoint- 
ment, there  must  have  been  such  moving  power  in  the  answer  which 
Philip's  sudden  announcement  had  given  to  his  unspoken  thoughts, 
that  he  went  with  him.  And  now,  as  ever,  when  in  such  spirit  we 
come,  evidences  irrefragable  multiplied  at  every  step.  As  he  neared 
Jesus,  he  heard  Him  speak  to  the  disciples  words  concerning  him, 
which  recalled,  truly  and  actually,  what  had  passed  in  his  soul. 
But  could  it  really  be  so,  that  Jesus  knew  it  all  ?  The  question, 
intended  to  elicit  it,  brought  such  proof  that  he  could  not  but  burst 
into  the  immediate  and  full  ackowledgment:  *  Thou  art  the  Son  of 
God,'  Who  hast  read  my  inmost  being;  '  Thou  art  the  King  of 
Israel,'  Who  dost  meet  its  longing  and  hope.  And  is  it  not  ever  so, 
that  the  faith  of  the  heart  springs  to  the  lips,  as  did  the  water  from 
the  riven  rock  at  the  touch  of  the  God-gifted  rod?  It  needs  not 
long  course  of  argumentation,  nor  intricate  chain  of  evidences,  welded 
link  to  link,  when  the  secret  thoughts  of  the  heart  are  laid  bare,  and 
its  inmost  longings  met.  Then,  as  in  a  moment,  it  is  day,  and 
joyous  voice  of  song  greets  its  birth. 

And  yet  that  painful  path  of  slower  learning  to  enduring  con- 
viction must  still  be  trodden,  whether  in  the  sufferings  of  the  heart, 
or  the  struggle  of  the  mind.  This  it  is  which  seems  implied  in  the 
ay.  50.  half-sad  question  of  the  Master/  yet  with  full  view  of  the  final 
wood's to*^*'  triumph  (' thou  shalt  see  greater  things  than  these'),  and  of  the 
johnxm. '  true  realisation  in  it  of  that  glorious  symbol  of  Jacob's  vision.'' 
tothecus^i-  And  so  Nathanael,  'the  God-given' — or,  as  we  know  him  inafter- 
johnlvi.  history,  Bartholomew,  '  the  son  of  Telamyon' ^ — was  added  to  the  dis- 
ciples. Such  was  on  that  tirst  Sunday  the  small  beginning  of  the 
great  Church  Catholic;  these  the  tiny  springs  that  swelled  into  the 
mighty  river  which,  in  its  course,  has  enriched  and  fertilised  the 
barrenness  of  the  far-off  lands  of  the  Gentiles. 

1  So,  at  least,  most  probably.    Comp.  St.  John  xxi.  2,  and  the  various  commentaries. 


bv.  51 


CHRIST   AS    'THE   SON   OF   MAN.'  351 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE   MARRIACxE   FEAST   IN   CANA    OF  GALILEE — THE   MIRACLE   THAT 

IS    ^A   SIGN.' 

(St.  Johu  ii.   1-12.) 

At  the  close  of  His  Discourse  to  Natlianael — His  first  sermon —  chap. 
Jesus  had  made  use  of  an  expression  which  received  its  symbolic  ful-  i^^' 
fllment  in  His  first  deed.  His  first  testimony  about  Himself  had  " — ~i" — -' 
been  to  call  Himself  the  '  Son  of  Man."' ^  We  cannot  but  feel  that  »st.  joiidl 
this  bore  reference  to  the  confession  of  Nathanael :  '  Thou  art  the  Son 
of  God;  Thou  art  the  King  of  Israel.'  It  is,  as  if  He  would  have 
turned  the  disciples  from  thoughts  of  His  being  the  Son  of  God  and 
King  of  Israel  to  the  voluntary  humiliation  of  His  Humanity,  as 
being  the  necessary  basis  of  His  work,  without  knowledge  of  which 
that  of  His  Divinity  would  have  been  a  barren,  speculative  abstrac- 
tion, and  that  of  His  Kingship  a  Jewish  fleshly  dream.  But  it  was  not 
only  knowledge  of  His  Iiumiliation  in  His  Humanity.  For,  as  in  the 
history  of  the  Christ  humiliation  and  glory  arc  always  connected, the 
one  enwrapped  in  the  other  as  the  fiower  in  the  bud,  so  here  also  His 
humiliation  as  the  Son  of  Man  is  the  exaltation  of  humanity,  the 
realisation  of  its  ideal  destiny  as  created  in  the  likeness  of  God.  It 
should  never  be  forgotton,  that  such  teaching  of  His  exaltation  and 
Kingship  through  humiliation  and  representation  of  humanity  was 
needful.  It  was  the  teaching  which  was  the  outcome  of  the  Tempta- 
tion and  of  its  victory,  the  very  teaching  of  the  whole  Evangelic 
history.  Any  other  real  learning  of  Christ  would,  as  we  see  it,  have 
been  impossible  to  the  disciples — alike  mentally,  as  regards  founda- 
tion and  progression,  and  spiritually.  A  Christ:  God,  King,  and  not 
primarily  'the  Son  of  Man,'  would  not  have  been  the  Christ  of 
Prophecy,  nor  the  Christ   of  Humanity,  nor  the  Christ  of  salvation, 

'  For  a  full  discussion  of  that  most  ascertain  tlie  Old  Testament  import  of 

important    and    si^niticant    apiiellation  tlie  title,  and  tlien  to  view  it  as  itreseut 

'Son  of  Man,'  comp.  Lilcke,    u.  s.  pp.  to   later  Jewish  thinkinfi"  in  the  Pseud- 

4.59-460;    Godet  (German    transl.),    pp.  epiffraphic  writings    (Book  of    Enoch). 

104-108;   and  especially   Wesfcoff,    pp.  Finally,    its    full    realisation    must    be 

33-35.     The  main  point  is  here  first  to  studied  in  the  Gospel-history. 


352 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Hebr.  II, 
10 


nor  yet  the  Christ  of  S3'mpathy,  liclp,  and  example.  A  Christ,  God 
and  King,  Who  had  suddenly  risen  like  the  fierce  Eastern  sun  in  mid- 
day ))ri.iilitness,  would  have  blinded  by  his  dazzling  rays  (as  it  did 
Saul  on  the  way  to  Damascus),  not  risen  'with  kindly  liglit '  to  chase 
away  darkness  and  mists,  and  with  genial  growing  warmth  to  woo 
life  and  beauty  into  our  barren  world.  And  so,  as  '  it  became  Him,' 
for  the  carrying  out  of  the  work,  '  to  make  the  Captain  of  Salvation 
perfect  through  sufferings,'  ^  so  it  was  needful  for  them  that  He  should 
veil,  even  from  their  view  who  followed  Him,  the  glory  of  His  Divin- 
ity and  the  power  of  His  Kingship,  till  they  had  learned  all  that  the 
designation  '  Son  of  Man '  implied,  as  placed  below  'Son  of  God'  and 
'  King  of  Israel. 

This  idea  of  the  '  Son  of  Man, '  although  in  its  full  and  prophetic 
meaning,  seems  to  furnish  the  explanation  of  the  miracle  at  the  mar- 
riage of  Cana.  We  are  now  entering  on  the  Ministry  of  '  The  Son 
of  Man,'  first  and  chiefly  in  its  contrast  to  the  preparatory  call  of 
the  Baptist,  with  the  asceticism  symbolic  of  it.  We  behold  Him  now 
as  freely  mingling  with  humanity,  sharing  its  joys  and  engagements, 
entering  into  its  family  life,  sanctioning  and  hallowing  all  by  His 
Presents  and  blessing;  then  as  transforming  the  '  water  of  legal  puri- 
fication '  into  the  wine  of  the  new  dispensation,  and,  more  than  this, 
the  water  of  our  felt  want  into  the  wine  of  His  giving;  and,  lastly,  as 
having  absolute  power  as  the  '■  Son  of  Man,*  being  also  '  the  Son  of 
God'  and  'the  King  of  Israel.'  Not  that  it  is  intended  to  convey, 
that  it  was  the  primary  purpose  of  the  miracle  of  Cana  to  exhibit  the 
contrast  between  His  own  Ministry  and  the  asceticism  of  the  Baptist, 
although  greater  could  scarcely  be  imagined  than  between  the  wilder- 
ness and  the  supply  of  wine  at  the  marriage-feast.  Rather,  since 
this  essential  difference  really  existed,  it  naturally  appeared  at  the 
very  commencement  of  Christ's  Ministry.^  And  so  in  regard  to  the 
other  meaning,  also,  which  this  history  carries  to  our  minds. 

At  the  same  time  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  marriage  con- 
veyed to  the  Jews  much  higher  thoughts  than  merely  those  of  festivi- 
ty and  merriment.  The  pious  fasted  before  it,  confessing  their  sins.  It 
was  regarded  almost  as  a  Sacrament.   Entrance  into  the  married  state 


'  We  may,  however,  here  again  notice 
that,  if  thi3  narrative  had  been  fic- 
titious, it  would  seem  most  clumsily  put 
together.  To  introduce  the  Forerunner 
with  fasting,  and  as  an  ascetic,  and  Him 
to  Whom  he  pointed  with  a  maixiage- 
feast.  is  an  incongruity  which  no  writer 
of  a  legend  would  have  perpetrated.    But 


the  writer  of  the  fourth  Gospel  does  not 
seem  conscious  of  any  incongruity,  and 
this  because  he  has  no  ideal  story  nor 
characters  to  introduce.  In  this  sense  it 
may  be  said,  that  the  introduction  of  the 
story  of  the  marriage-feast  of  Cana  is  in 
itself  the  best  ju-oof  of  its  truthfulness, 
and  of  the  miracle  which  it  records. 


JEWISH   MARRIAGE-FESTIVITIES.  353 

was  thought  to  carry  tlic  forgiveness  of  sins."'     It  ahnost  seems  as  if     quw^ 
the  rehitionshi})  of  Husband  and  Bride  between   Jehovali  and  His        iv 
people,  so  frequently  insisted  upon,  not  only  in  the   liible,   but  in  ^— ,- — - 
Rabbinic  writings,  had  always  been  standing  out  in  the  background.   «Taikuton 
Thus  the  bridal  i)air  on  the  inarriagc-day  symbolised  the  union  of  God  1  voi.  ii.  p.' 
with  Israel.  ^  Hence,  though  it  may  in  part  have  been  national  pride, 
which  considered  the  birth  of  every  Israelite  as  almost  outweighing 
the  rest  of  the  world,  it  scarcely  wholly  accounts  for  the  ardent  insist- 
ance  on  marriage,  from  the  first  prayer  at  the  circumcision  of  a  child, 
onwards  through  the  many  and  varied  admonitions  to  the  same  eflfect. 
Similarly,  it  may  have  been  the  deep  feeling  of  brotherhood  in  Israel, 
leading  to  sympathy  with  all  that  most  touched  the  heart,  which 
invested   with   such   sacredness    participation   in   the   gladness   of 
marriage,^  or  the  sadness  of  burial.     To  use  the  bold  allegory  of  the 
times,  God  Himself  had  spoken  the  words  of  blessing  over  the  cup  at 
the  union  of  our  first  parents,  when  Michael  and  Gabriel  acted  as 
groomsmen,"  and  the  Angelic  choir  sang  the  wedding  hymn."     So  also  ^  Ber.  k.  8 
He   had   shown  the   example  of  visiting  the   sick   (in  the  case  of  xtti/Tv^' 
Abraham),  comforting  the  mourners  (in  that  of  Isaac),  and  burying 
the  dead  (in  that  of  Moses). **    Every  man  who  met  it,  was  bound  to  asot.  ua 
rise  and  join  the  marriage  procession,  or  the  funeral  march.     It  was 
specially  related  of  King  Agrippa  that  he  had  done  this,  and  a  curious 
Haggadah  sets  forth  that,  when  Jezebel  was  eaten  of  dogs,  her  hands 
and  feet  were  spared,''  because,  amidst  all  her  wickedness,  she  had  y  2 Kings. 
been  wont  to  greet  every  marriage-procession  by  clapping  of  hands, 
and  to  accompany  the  mourners  a  certain  distance  on  their  way  to  the 
burying.*'    And  so  we  also  read  it,  that,  in  the  burying  of  the  widow's  f  vaikut  on 
son  of  Nain,  '  much  people  of  the  city  was  with  her. ' «  35.V01.  a.  p. 

.  36  a  and  h 

In  such  circumstances,  we  would  naturally  expect  that  all  connected  ,.  g^  i^^^q 
with  marriage  was  planned  with  care,  so  as  to  bear  the  impress  of 
sanctity,  ami  also  to  wear  the  aspect  of  gladness.*  A  special  formality, 

1  The  Biblical  proofs  adduced  for  at-  married. 

tiicliiiig  this  benefit  to  a  sa<;e.  a  l)ride-  -  In  Yaicut  on  Ih.  Ixi.  10(vol.  ii.  p.  37f?) 

j^rooiii,  aud  a  prince  on  enterin<>:  on  their  Israel  is  said  to  have  been   ten   times 

new  state,  are  certainl}' peculiar.     In  the  called  in  Scripture  '  bride '  (six  times  in 

case  of  a  bridegroom  it  is  based  on  the  Canticles,  three  times  in  Isaiah,  and  once 

name  of  Esau's  bride,  Machalath  (Gen.  in  Jeremiah).    Attention  is  also  called  to 

xxviii.  9),  a  luime  which  is  derived  from  the  'ten  o-arments '  with  which  succes- 

the  Rabbinic   'Machal,'  to  forijive.     In  sively  the  Holy  One  arrayed  Himself ;  to 

Jer.  Biccur.  iii.  p.  05  d,  where  this  is  also  the    symbolic    priestly   dignity    of    the 

related,  it  is])ninte(l  out  that  tlie  original  bridegroom,  itc. 

name  of  Esau's  wife  had  been  Baseuiatli  '■•  Everything,  even  a  funeral,  had  to 

(Gen.    XXX vi.    '.i),   the   name  Mticlialath,  give  way  to  a  nuii'riage-procession. 

therefore,  having  been  given  wIumi  Es;iu  *  For  details  1  must  refer  to  the  Ency- 


vii.  12 


354 


FROM   JORDAN   T(^   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Jer.  Yeb. 
Ma. 


t'  Com  p. 
Tob.  vii.  14 


tliat  of  'betrotlial'  {Erusin  Qiddushln),  preceded  the  actual  marriage 
by  a  period  varying  in  length,  but  not  exceeding  a  twelvemonth  in 
the  case  of  a  maiden.'  At  the  betrothal,  the  bridegroom,  personally 
or  by  deputy,  handed  to  the  bride  a  piece  of  money  or  a  letter,  it 
being  expressly  stated  in  each  case  that  the  man  thereby  espoused 
the  woiiian.  From  the  moment  of  betrothal  both  parties  were  regarded, 
and  treated  in  law  (as  to  inheritance,  adultery,  need  of  formal  divorce), 
as  if  they  had  been  actually  nmrried,  except  as  regarded  their  living 
together.  A  legal  document  (the  Shitre  Erusin)  fixed  the  dowry  which 
each  brought,  the  mutual  obligations,  and  all  other  legal  points.^ 
Generally  a  festive  meal  closed  the  ceremony  of  betrothal — but  not  in 
Galilee,  where,  habits  being  more  simple  and  pure,  that  which  some- 
times ended  in  sin  was  avoided. 

On  the  evening  of  the  actual  marriage  {Nissuin,  Chathnuth),  the 
biide  was  led  from  her  paternal  home  to  that  of  her  husband.  First 
came  the  merry  sounds  of  music;  then  they  who  distributed  among 
the  people  wine  and  oil,  and  nuts  among  the  children;  next  the 
bride,  covered  with  the  bridal  veil,  her  long  hair  flowing,  surrounded 
by  her  companions,  and  led  by  'the  friends  of  the  bridegroom,'  and 
'the  children  of  the  bride-chamber.'  All  around  were  in  festive 
array;  some  carried  torches,  or  lamps  on  poles;  those  nearest  had 
myrtle-branches  and  chaplets  of  flowers.  Every  one  rose  to  salute  the 
procession,  or  join  it;  and  it  was  deemed  almost  a  religious  duty  to 
break  into  praise  of  the  beauty,  the  modesty,  or  the  virtues  of  the 
bride.  Arrived  at  her  new  home,  she  was  led  to  her  husband.  Some 
such  formula  as  '  Take  her  according  to  the  Law  of  Moses  and  of 
Israel,'"  would  be  spoken,  and  the  bride  and  bridegroom  crowned  with 
garlands.^  Then  a  formal  legal  instrument,  called  the  Kethubah, 
was  signed,''  which  set  forth  that  the  bridegroom  undertook  to  work 
for  her,  to  honour,  keep,  and  care  for  her,*  as  is  the  manner  of  the 
men  of  Israel;  that  he  promised  to  give  his  maiden- wife  at  least  two 
hundred  Zuz^  (or  more  it  might  be)/  and  to  increase  her  own  dowry 


clopsedias,  to  the  article  iu  CasseWs  'Bible 
Educator,'  aiul  to  the  corresponding  chap- 
ters in  '  Sketches  of  Jewish  Social  Life.' 

1  Pesiq.  R.  15  applies  the  first  clause 
of  Prov.  xiii.  12  to  a  long  engagement, 
the  second  to  a  short  one. 

*  The  reader  who  is  curious  to  see 
these  and  other  legal  documents  in  ex- 
tenso,  is  referred  to  Dr.  Sammter\'<  ed. 
of  the  tractate  Baba  Metsia  (notes  at  the 
end,  fol.  pp.  144-148). 

■^  Some  of  these  joyous  demonstrations, 
sucli  as  the  wearing  of  crowns,  ana  even 


the  bridal  music,  were  for  a  time  pro- 
hibited after  tlie  destruction  of  Jeru- 
salem, in  token  of  national  mourning 
(Sot.  ix.  14).  On  these  crowns  comp. 
Wfiffe/iseil,  Sota,  pp.  965-967. 

■*  I  quote  the  very  words  of  the  formula, 
which,  it  will  be  noticed,  closely  agree 
with  those  in  our  own  Marriage  Service. 

5  If  the  Znz  be  reckoned  at  7rf.,  about 
51.  Us.  M. 

8  Tins, of  cour.se,  represents  only  the  ??ii- 
ouvunn.  In  the  case  of  a  priest's  daughter 
the  ordinary  le<jal  minimum  was  doubled. 


CANA   OF   GALILEE. 


355 


(which,  in  the  case  of  a  poor  ori)haii,  the  authorities  supplied)  b}'  at 
least  one  half,  and  that  he  also  undertook  to  lay  it  out  for  her  to  the 
best  advantage,  all  his  own  possessions  being  guarantee  for  it.  ^  Then, 
after  the  prescribed  washing  of  hands  and  benediction,  the  marriage- 
supper  began — the  cup  being  tilled,  and  the  solemn  prayer  of  bridal 
benediction  spoken  over  it.  And  so  the  feast  lasted — it  might  be 
more  than  one  day — while  each  sought  to  contribute,  sometimes 
coarsely,^  sometimes  wisely,  to  the  general  enjoyment, Hill  at  last  'the 
friends  of  the  bridegroom  '  h'd  the  bridal  pair  to  the  Cheder  and  the 
Chuppah^  or  the  bridal  chamber  and  bed.  Here  it  ought  to  be 
specially  noticed,  as  a  striking  evidence  that  the  writer  of  the  fourth 
Gospel  was  not  only  a  Hebrew,  but  intimately  acquainted  with  the 
varying  customs  prevailing  in  Galilee  and  in  Judaea,  that  at  the 
marriage  of  Cana  no  'friend  of  the  bridegroom,'  or  'groomsman' 
(ShoshebJieyna),  is  mentioned,  while  he  zs  referred  to  in  St.  John  iii.  29, 
where  the  words  are  spoken  outside  the  boundaries  of  Galilee.  For 
among  the  simpler  and  purer  Galileans  the  practice  of  having  '  friends 
of  the  bridegroom,'  which  must  so  often  have  led  to  gross  impropriety,'' 
did  not  obtain,^  though  all  the  invited  guests  bore  the  general  name 
of  'children  of  the  bridechamber  '  {bene  Chuppah)." 

It  was  the  marriage  in  Cana  of  Galilee.  All  connected  with  the 
account  of  it  is  strictly  Jewish — the  feast,  the  guests,  the  invitation 
of  the  stranger  Rabbi,  and  its  acceptance  by  Jesus.  Any  Jewish 
Rabbi  would  have  gone,  but  how  differently  from  Him  would  he  have 
spoken  and  acted  !  Let  us  first  think  of  the  scenic  details  of  the 
narrative.  Strangely,  we  are  not  able  to  fix  with  certainty  the  site  of 
the  little  town  of  Cana.*  But  if  we  adopt  the  most  probable  indentifl- 
cation  of  it  with  the  modern  pleasant  village  of  Kefr  Kenna,^  a  few 
miles  north-east  of  Nazareth,  on  the  road  to  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  we 
picture  it  to  ourselves  as  on  the  slope  of  a  hill,  its  houses  rising  terrace 


CHAP. 
IV 


"  Comp. 
Ber.  6  6 


h  Comp. 
Kethub. 
Via;  Jer. 
Kethub,  i. 
p.  i.'5  a 

"■  Comp.  St. 
Matt.  ix.  15 


1  The  Talmud  (Tos.  Kethub.)  bero  puts 
llie  not  inapt  question,  '  How  if  the 
l)rideo;room  lias  no  f>;oods  and  chattels  ?' 
but  ultimately  comforts  itself  with  the 
tliou^ht  that  every  man  has  some  prop- 
erty, if  it  were  only  the  six  feet  of  ground 
in  which  he  is  to  l)e  buried. 

-'  Not  a  few  such  instances  of  riotous 
merriment,  and  even  dubious  jokes,  on 
the  part  of  tlie  greatest  Rabbis  are  men- 
tioned, to  check  which  some  were  wont 
to  adojit  the  curious  device  of  breaking 
valuable  vases,  &c. 

^  This,  and  the  other  great  ditl'erences 
in  favour  of  moralitv  and  decencv  which 


distinguished  the  customs  of  Galilee  from 
those  of  tlie  rest  of  Palestine,  are  enume- 
rated in  Jer.  Kethub.  i.  1,  p.  25  a,  about 
the  miildle. 

*  Two  such  sites  have  l)een  proposed — 
that  by  Dr.  Robinson  being  very  unlikely 
to  represent  the  ancient '  Cana  of  Galilee.' 

'"•  Comj*.  the  memoir  on  the  suljject 
l)y  ZclJn-  in  tlie  Quarterly  Report  of  the 
Palestine  Explor.  Fund  (for  ISGt),  No.  iii., 
and  for  April  1878,  by  Mr.  Hepwortk 
Dixnn);  and  Lieut.  Coiider,  Tent-Work 
in  Palestine,  vol.  i.  pp.  150-155.  Zeller 
makes  it  five  miles  from  Nazareth, 
Coiider  only  three  and  three-quarters. 


356  FROM    .lOKDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  upon  terrace,  looking  north  and  west  over  a  large  plain(tliat  of  Battauf), 
in        and  south  upon  a  valley,  beyond  which  the  hills  rise  that  separate  it 

^^■^t '   from  Mount  Tabor  and  the  plain  of  Jezrcel.     As  we  approach  the 

little  town  through  that  smiling  valley,  we  come  upon  a  fountain  of 
excellent  water,  around  which  the  village  gardens  and  orchards 
clustered,  that  produced  in  great  abundance  the  best  pomegranates  in 
Palestine.  Here  was  the  home  of  Xathanael-Bartholomew,  and  it  seems 
not  unlikely,  that  with  him  Jesus  had  passed  the  time  intervening 
between  His  arrival  and  'the  marriage,' to  which  His  Mother  had 
come — the  omission  of  all  mention  of  Joseph  leading  to  the  supposi- 
tion, that  he  had  died  before  that  time.  The  inquiry,  what  had  brought 
Jesus  to  Cana,  seems  almost  worse  than  idle,  remembering  what  had 
passed  between  Him  and  Nathanael,  and  what  was  to  happen  in  the 
first  '  sign,'  which  was  to  manifest  His  glory.  It  is  needless  to  specu- 
late, whether  He  had  known  beforehand  of  'the  marriage.'  But  we 
can  understand  the  longing  of  the  '  Israelite  indeed '  to  have  Him 
under  his  roof,  though  we  can  only  imagine  what  the  Heavenly  Guest 
would  now  teach  him,  and  those  others  who  accompanied  Him.  Nor 
is  there  any  difficulty  in  understanding,  that  on  His  arrival  He  would 
hear  of  this  '  marriage,'  of  the  presence  of  His  Mother  in  what  seems 
to  have  been  the  house  of  a  friend,  if  not  a  relative;  that  Jesus 
and  His  disciples  would  be  bidden  to  the  feast;  and  that  He  resolved 
not  only  to  comply  Avith  the  request)  but  to  use  it  as  a  leave-taking 
from  home  and  friends — similar,  though  also  far  other,  than  that  of 
Elisha,  when  he  entered  on  his  mission.  Yet  it  seems  deeply  sig- 
nificant, that  the  '  true  Israelite  '  should  have  been  honoured  to  be  the 
first  host  of  '  Israel's  King.' 

And  truly  a  leave-taking  it  was  for  Christ  from  former  friends  and 
home — a  leave-taking  also  from  His  past  life.  If  one  part  of  the 
narrative^that  of  His  dealing  with  His  Mother — has  any  special 
meaning,  it  is  that  of  leave-taking,  or  rather  of  leaving  home  and 
family,  just  as  with  this  first  'sign'  He  took  leave  of  all  the  past. 
When  he  had  returned  from  His  first  Temple-visit,  it  had  been  in  the 
self-exinanition  of  voluntary  humility:  to  'be  subject  to  His  Parents.' 
That  period  was  now  ended,  and  a  new  one  had  begun — that  of 
active  consecration  of  the  whole  life  to  His  'Father's  business.'  And 
what  passed  at  the  marriage-feast  marks  the  beginning  of  this 
period.  We  stand  on  the  threshold,  over  which  we  pass  from  the  old 
to  the  new — to  use  a  New  Testament  figure:  to  the  marriage-supper 
of  the  Lamb. 

Viewed  in  this  light,  what  passed  at  the  marriage  in  Cana  seems 


MEANING  OF  THE  MIRACLE  AT  CANA. 


357 


like  taking  up  the  tliread,  where  it  liad  been  dropped  at  the  first     CHAP. 
manifestation  of  His  Messianie  conseiousness.     In  the  Temple  at        IV 
Jerusalem  He  had  said  in  answer  to  the  misapprehensive  question  of  ^— ^r'*-' 
His  Mother:   'Wisfc  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  busi- 
ness?' and  now  when  about  to  take  in  hand  that  'business,'  He  tells 
her  so  again,  and  decisively,  in  reply  to  her  misapprehensive  sugges- 
tion.    It  is  a  truth  which  we  must  ever  learn,  and  yet  are  ever  slow 
to  learn  in  our  questionings  and  suggestings,  alike  as  concerns  His 
dealings  with  ourselves  and  His  rule  of  His  Church,  that  the  highest 
and  only  true  point  of  view  is  *  the  Father's  business,'  not  our  personal 
relationship  to  Christ.     This  thread,  then,  is  taken  up  again  at  Cana 
in  the  circle  of  friends,  as  immediately  afterwards  in  His  pul^lic 
manifestation,  in  the  purifying  of  the  Temple,     What  He  had  first 
uttered  as  a  Child,  on  His  first  visit  to  the  Temple,  that  He  manifested 
forth  when  a  Man,  entering  on  His  active  work — negatively,  in  His 
reply  to  His  Mother;  positively,  in  the  'sign'  He  wi'ought.     It  all 
meant:  'Wist  ye  not  that  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  business?' 
And,  positively  and  negatively.  His  first  appearance  in  Jerusalem ■*  il^v'^^nd" 
meant  just  the  same.     For,  there  is  ever  deepest  unity  and  harmony  vv.18-23 
in  that  truest  Life,  the  Life  of  Life. 

As  we  pass  through  the  court  of  that  house  in  Cana,  and  reach, 
the  covered  gallery  which  opens  on  the  various  rooms — in  this  instance, 
particularly,  on  the  great  reception  room— all  is  festively  adorned.  In 
the  gallery  the  servants  move  about,  and  there  the  '  water-pots '  are 
ranged,  '  after  the  manner  of  the  Jews,'  for  purification — for  the  wash- 
ing not  only  of  hands  before  and  after  eating,  but  also  of  the  vessels 
used.''    How  detailed  Rabbinic  ordinances  were  in  these  respects,  will  ^comp.  st. 

i  '  Mark  vii. 

be  shown  in  another  connection.  '  Purification '  was  one  of  the  ^-^ 
main  points  in  Rabbinic  sanctity.  By  far  the  largest  and  most 
elaborate  ^  of  the  six  books  into  which  the  Mishnah  is  divided,  is  ex- 
clusively devoted  to  this  subject  (the  ^Seder  Tohoroth,'  purifications). 
Not  to  speak  of  references  in  other  parts  of  the  Talmud,  we  have 
two  special  tractates  to  instruct  us  about  the  purification  of 'Hands' 
( Yadayim)  and  of '  Vessels '  (Kelim).  The  latter  is  the  most  elaborate 
in  all  the  Mishnah,  and  consists  of  not  less  than  thirty  chapters. 
Their  perusal  proves,  alike  the  strict  accuracy  of  the  Evangelic  nar- 

1  The  wliole  Mishliah  is  divided  into  Neziqin — contains  6S9  Mislniayoth).  Tlie 

six  Sedarim  (Orders),  of  wliich  the  last  tirst  tractate   in   this  '  Ord(>r "  of  Puriti- 

is  tlie  Seder  To/io7-otfi,  treating  of  '  i)uri-  cations  '  treats    of    the    piiritication    of 

locations.'    It  consists  of  twelve  tractates  vessels  (Kelim),  and  contains  no   fewer 

(Mdsslkhtnlh),  VM  chapters  (Perar/im),  than  thirty  chapters;  •l'c/rA/////»"  ('hands') 

and  contains  no  fewer  than  1001  separate  is   the   eleventh   tractate,   and   contains 

MishiKiijoth   (the   next  largest  Seder —  four  chapters. 


358 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OP   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


Sanh.  17  a 


i>  Jos.  Ant. 
viii.  2.  9 


<■  Shabb. 
77  h.     So 
Li<;ht£oot 
in  toe. 


ratives,  and  tlio  justice  of  Christ's  denunciations  of  the  unreality  and 
gross  hypocrisy  of  this  elaborateness  of  ordinances.^  This  the  more 
•so,  when  we  recall  that  it  was  actually  vaunted  as  a  special  qualifi- 
cation for  a  seat  in  the  Sanhedrin,  to  be  so  acute  and  learned  as  to 
know  how  to  prove  clean  creeping  things  (which  were  declared  unclean 
by  the  Law).""  And  the  mass  of  the  people  would  have  regarded 
neglect  of  the  ordinances  of  purification  as  betokening  either  gross 
ignorance,  or  daring  impiety. 

At  any  rate,  such  would  not  be  exhil)itcd  on  an  occasion  like  the 
present;  and  outside  the  reception-room,  as  St.  John  with  graphic 
minuteness  of  details  relates,  six  of  those  stone  pots,  which  we  know 
from  Rabbinic  writings,^  were  ranged.  Here  it  may  be  well  to  add, 
as  against  objectors,  that  it  is  impossible  to  state  with  certainty  the 
exact  measure  represented  by  the'  two  or  three  firkins  apiece.'  For, 
although  we  know  that  the  term  metretes  (A.V.  'firkin')  was  intended 
as  an  equivalent  for  the  Hebrew  ^hath,'  ^  yet  three  dificrent  kinds  of 
^batK  were  at  the  time  used  in  Palestine:  the  common  Palestinian 
or  '  wilderness '  bath,  that  of  Jersusalem,  and  that  of  Sepphoris.^  The 
common  Palestinian  '  bath'  was  equal  to  the  Roman  amphora^  con- 
taining about  5  \  gallons,  while  the  Sepphoris  '  bath'  corresponded  to 
the  Attic  metretes^  and  would  contain  about  8^  gallons.  In  the  former 
case,  therefore,  each  of  these  pots  might  have  held  from  10|  to  15| 
gallons;  in  the  latter,  from  17  to  25 1.  Reasoning  on  the  general 
ground  that  the  so-called  Sepphoris  measurement  was  common  in 
Galilee,  the  larger  quantity  seems  the  more  likely,  though  by  no  means 
certain.  It  is  almost  like  trifling  on  the  threshold  of  such  a  history, 
and  yet  so  many  cavils  have  been  raised,  that  we  must  here  remind 
ourselves,  that  neither  the  size,  nor  the  number  of  these  vessels  has 
anything  extraordinary  about  it.  For  such  an  occasion  the  family 
would  produce  or  borrow  the  largest  and  handsomest  stone-vessels 
that  could  be  procured;  nor  is  it  necessary  to  suppose  that  they 
were  filled  to  the  brim;  nor  should  we  forget  that,  from  a  Talmudic 
notice,"  it  seems  to  have  been  the  practice  to  set  apart  some  of  these 
vessels  exclusively  for  the  use  of  the  bride  and  of  the  more  dis- 
tinguished guests,  while  the  rest  were  used  by  the  general  company. 

Entering  the  spacious,  lofty  dining-room,*  which  would  be  bril- 


1  Comp.  St.  Mark  vii.  2-5;  St.  Matt, 
xxiii.  2r),  26;  St.  Luke  xi.  38,  39. 

-  These  'stowa-x qssqW  {Kelfy  Abhanim) 
are  often  si)oken  of  (for  example,  Chel. 
X.  1).  In  Yuday.  i.  2  tliey  are  expressly 
mentioned    for    tlie   purification   of  the 


hands. 

^  For  further  details  we  refer  to  the 
excursus  on  Palestinian  money,  wei.ijhts, 
and  measures,  in  Ilerz/eUVs  Ilandels- 
gesch.  d.  Juden.  pp.  171-185. 

^  The  Tcraqlin,  from  which  the  other 


IX. 


THE   REQUEST   OF   MARY   AND   THE   REPLY   OF   JESUS.  359 

liantly  liiilited  with  lamps  and  candlesticks,  the  guests  are  disposed     chap. 
round  tables  on  couches,  soft  with  cushions  or  covered  witli  tapestry,     '    iv 
or  seated  on  chairs.     The  bridal  blessing  has  l)een  spoken,  and  the  ^ — •      ' 
bridal  cup  emptied.    The  feast  is  proceeding — not  the  common  meal, 
which  was  generally  taken  about  even,  according  to  the  Rabbinic 
saying,"  that  he  who  postponed  it  beyond  that  hour  was  as  if  he  »Pvss.  i8  6 
swallowed  a  stone— but  a  festive  evening  meal.     If  there  had  been 
disposition  to  those  exhibitions  of,  or  incitement  to,  indecorous  and 
light  merriment,*  such  as  even  the  more  earnest  Rabbis  deprecated, 
surely  the  presence  of  Jesus  would  have  restrained  it.     And  now 
there  must  have  been  a  painful  pause,  or  something  like  it,  when 
the  Mother  of  Jesus  whispered  to   Him   that  'the   wine   failed.''^ 
There  could,  perhaps,  be  the  less  cause  for  reticence  on  this  point 
towards  her  Son,  not  merely  because  this  failure  may  have  arisen  from 
the  accession  of  guests  in  the  persons  of  Jesus  and  his  disciples,  for 
whom  no  provision  had  been  originally  made,  but  because  the  gift  of 
wine  or  oil  on  such  occasions  was  regarded  a  meritorious  work  of 
charity."  bBabas. 

Rut  all  this  still  leaves  the  main  incidents  in  the  narrative 
untouched.  How  are  w^e  to  understand  the  implied  request  of  the 
Mother  of  Jesus?  how  His  reply?  and  what  was  the  meaning  of  the 
miracle?  It  seems  scarcely  possible  to  imagine  that,  remembering 
the  miraculous  circumstances  connected  with  His  Birth,  and  informed 
of  what  had  passed  at  Jordan,  she  now  anticipated,  and  by  her  sug- 
gestion wished  to  prompt,  this  as  His  Royal  Messianic  manifestation.^ 
With  reverence  be  it  said,  such  a  beginning  of  Royalty  and  triumph 
would  have  been  i)altry:  rather  that  of  the  Jewish  miracle-monger 
than  that  of  the  Christ  of  the  Gospels.  IS'ot  so,  if  it  was  only  '  a  sign,' 
pointing  to  something  beyond  itself.  Again,  such  anticipations  on 
the  part  of  Mary  seem  psychologically  untrue — that  is,  untrue  to  her 
history.      She  could  not,  indeed,  have  ever  forgotten  the  circum- 

side-rooms    opened     (Jer.    Rosh    haSh.  moment  she  had  entered  the  Teraqlin, 

59  h;  Yonia  15  b).     From    Baba  B.  vi.  4  before   she    had    actually   gone   to    the 

we  learn,  that  such  an  apartment  was  at  Chii/ipdh. 

least  15  feet  square  and   15   feet  high.  '  Thus  it  was  customarj^,  and  deemed 

Height  of  ceiling  was  characteristic  of  meritorious,  to  sing  and  perform  a  kind 

Palestinian  houses.     It  was  always  half  of  play  with  myrtle  branches  (Jer.  Peah 

the   breadth   and   length   i>ut    together.  15  d)\  although  one  Rabbi   was  visited 

Thus,  in  a  small  house  consisting  of  one  with   sudden    death   for   excess   in   this 

room:  length,  12  feet,  breadth,  9  feet,  the  respect. 

height  would  be    10|-    feet.     In   a  large  -'  St.    John   ii.   3,   A.Y. :    'when   they 

house:  length,  15  feet,  breadth,  12   feet,  wanted  wine.' 

the  height  would  be  V6\  feet.    From  Jer.  •■  This  is  the  view  of  many  commenta- 

Kethub.  p.  28  d  we  learn,  that  tlie  bride  tors,  ancient  and  modern. 

was  considered  as  actually  married  the 


360  FRO.Af   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      stances  wliich  had  i^urrounded  His  Birth;  but  the  deeper  she  'kept 
III        all  these  things  in  her  heart,'  the  more  mysterious  would  they  seem, 

^- — ^.^ '   as  time  passed  in  the  dull  round  of  the  most  simple  and  uneventful 

country-life,  and  in  the  discharge  of  every-day  duties,  without  even 
the  faintest  appearance  of  anything  beyond  it.  Only  twelve  years 
had  passed  since  His  Birth,  and  yet  they  had  not  understood  His 
saying  in  the  Temple!  How  much  more  difficult  would  it  be  after 
thirty  years,  when  the  Child  had  grown  into  Youth  and  Manhood, 
with  still  the  same  silence  of  Divine  Voices  around?  It  is  difficult 
to  believe  in  fierce  sunshine  on  the  afternoon  of  a  long,  grey  day. 
Although  we  have  no  absolute  certainty  of  it,  we  have  the  strongest 
internal  reasons  for  believing,  that  Jesus  had  done  no  miracles  these 
thirty  years  in  the  home  at  Nazareth,'  but  lived  the  life  of  quiet  sub- 
mission and  obedient  waiting.  That  was  the  then  part  of  His  Work, 
It  may,  indeed,  have  been  that  Mary  knew  of  what  had  passed  at 
Jordan;  and  that,  when  she  saw  Him  returning  with  His  first 
disciples,  who,  assuredly,  would  make  no  secret  of  their  convictions 
— whatever  these  may  have  conveyed  to  outsiders — she  felt  that  a 
new  period  in  His  Life  had  opened.  But  what  was  there  in  all  this 
to  suggest  such  a  miracle?  and  if  it  had  been  suggested,  why  not 
ask  for  it  in  express  terms,  if  it  was  to  be  the  commencement, 
certainly  in  strangely  incongruous  circumstances,  of  a  Royal  mani- 
festation? 

On  the  other  hand,  there  was  one  thing  which  she  had  learned, 
and  one  thing  which  she  was  to  unlearn,  after  those  thirty  years  of  the 
Nazareth-Life.  What  she  had  learned — what  she  must  have  learned 
— was  absolute  confidence  in  Jesus.  What  she  had  to  unlearn,  was 
the  natural,  yet  entirely  mistaken,  impression  wiiich  His  meekness, 
stillness,  and  long  home-submission  had  wrought  on  her  as  to  His 
relationship  to  the  family.  It  was,  as  we  find  from  her  after-history, 
a  very  hard,  very  slow,  and  very  painful  thing  to  learn  It;^  yet  very 
needful,  not  only  for  her  own  sake,  but  because  it  was  a  lesson  of 
absolute  truth.  And  so  when  she  told  Him  of  the  want  that  had 
arisen,  it  was  simply  in  absolute  confidence  in  her  Son,  probably 
without  any  conscious  expectancy  of  a  miracle  on  His  part.*    Yet 

1  Tholuck  aud  Lilcke,  however,  holil  ^  This  meets  the  objection  of  Strauss 

the  opposite  view.  and  others,  that  Mary  could  not  have 

-  Luthardt  rightly  calls  it  the   com-  expected  a  miracle.     It  is  scarcely  con- 

mencement  of  a  very  painful  education,  ceivable,  how  CV??ct«  could  have  imagined 

of  which  the  next  stage   is   marked   in  that  Mary  had  intended  Jesus  to  deliver  an 

St.  Luke  viii.  19,  and  the  last  in  St.  John  address  witii  the  view  of  turning  away 

xix.  2().  tliought    IVuHi    the    want    of  wine;    or 


THE   FUNDAMENTAL   MISTAKE   IN   AYHAT   MARY   SPAKE.  361 

not  without  a  touch  of  inatcrual  scU-cousriousue.ss,  ahuost  i)ride,  that  chap. 
He,  Whom  she  could  trust  to  do  anything  that  was  needed,  was  her  IV 
Son,  Whom  she  could  solicit  in  the  friendly  family  whose  guests  the}  ^— ^r— i--" 
were — and  if  not  for  her  sake,  yet  at  her  request.  It  was  a  true 
earth-view  to  take  of  their  relationship;  onl}^,  an  earth-view  which 
must  now  for  ever  cease:  the  outcome  of  His  misunderstood  meekness 
and  weakness,  and  which  yet,  strangely  enough,  the  Romish  Church 
puts  in  the  forefront  as  the  most  powerful  plea  for  Jesus'  acting. 
But  the  fundamental  mistake  in  what  she  attempted  is  just  this,  that 
she  spake  as  His  Mother,  and  placed  that  maternal  relationship  in 
connection  with  His  Work.  And  therefore  it  was  that  as,  on  the 
first  misunderstanding  in  the  Temple,  He  had  said:  '  Wist  ye  not  that 
I  must  be  about  my  Father's  business?'  so  now:  <  Wonnin,  what  have 
1  to  do  with  thee? '  With  that  '  business  '  earthly  relationship,  how- 
ever tender,  had  no  connection.  With  everything  else  it  had,  down 
to  the  utter  self-forgetfulness  of  that  teuderest  commendation  of  her 
to  John,  in  the  bitterest  agonies  of  the  Cross;  but  not  with  this. 
No,  not  now,  nor  ever  henceforth,  with  this.  As  in  His  first 
manifestation  in  the  Temple,  so  in  this  the  first  manifestation  of  His 
glory,  the  finger  that  pointed  to  '  His  hour '  was  not,  and  could  not  be, 
that  of  an  earthly  parent,  but  of  His  Father  in  Heaven.^  There  was, 
in  truth,  a  twofold  relationship  in  that  Life,  of  which  none  other  but 
the  Christ  could  have  preserved  the  harmony. 

This  is  one  main  point — we  had  almost  called  it  the  negative  one; 
the  other,  and  positive  one,  was  the  miracle  itself  All  else  is  but 
accidental  and  circumstantial.  No  one  who  either  knows  the  use  of 
the  language,^  or  remembers  that,  when  commending  her  to  John  on 
the  Cross,  He  used  the  same  mode  of  expression,^'  will  imagine,  that  »st.joiin 
there  was  anything  derogatory  to  her,  or  harsh  on  His  part,  in 
addressing  her  as  '  woman  '  rather  than  '  mother. '  But  the  language 
is  to  us  significant  of  the  teaching  intended  to  be  conveyed,  and  as 
the  beginning:  of  this  further  teaching:  '  Who  is  My  mother?  and  My 
brethren?  And  He  stretched  forth  His  hand  toward  His  disciples, 
and  said,  Behold  My  mother  and  My  brethren  1 ' "  xfi!"46-5"' 

And  Mary  did  not,  and  yet  she  did,  understand  Him,  when  she 
turned  to  the  servants  with  the  direction,  imifiicitly  to  follow  His 
behests.  What  happened  is  well  known:  how,  in  the  excess  of  their 
zeal,  they  fille<l  the  water-pots  to  the  brim — an  accidental  circum- 

Bengel,  that  she  iiiteiuled  to  give  a  hint     forth  is:  My  FatluM-  and  I.' 
that  the  company  should  break  up.  -  Conip.  the  passages  from  the  chissics 

'  (rof/e;!  aptly  says,  'His  motto  hence-      quoted  l>y  Wetstcin  m  his  Commentary. 


362  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      stance,  yet  useful,  as  much  that  seems  accidental,  to  show  that  there 
in        could  be  neither  delusion  nor  collusion;  how,  probably  in  the  drawing 

^- — ^r^— '  of  it,  the  water  became  best  wine—'  the  conscious  water  saw  its  God, 
and  blushed;'  then  the  coarse  proverbial  joke  of  what  was  probably 

»Eccuis.  the  master  of  ceremonies  and  purveyor  of  the  feast,"  intended,  of 
course,  not  literally  to  apply  to  the  present  company,  and  yet  in  its 
accidentalness  an  evidence  of  the  reality  of  the  miracle;  after  which 
the  narrative  abruptly  closes  with  a  retrospective  remark  on  the  part  of 
him  who  relates  it.  What  the  bridegroom  said;  whether  what  had 
been  done  became  known  to  the  guests,  and,  if  so,  what  impression 
it  wrought;  how  long  Jesus  remained;  what  His  Mother  felt — of 
this  and  much  more  that  might  be  asked,  Scripture,  with  that 
reverent  reticence  which  we  so  often  mark,  in  contrast  to  our  shallow 
talkativeness,  takes  no  further  notice.  And  best  that  it  should  be  so. 
St.  John  meant  to  tell  us,  what  the  Synoptists,  who  begin  their 
a'ccount  with  the  later  Galilean  ministry,  have  not  recorded,^  of  the  first 
of  His  miracles  as  a  '  sign, '  ^  pointing  to  the  deeper  and  higher  that 
was  to  be  revealed,  and  of  the  first  forth-manifesting  of  '  His  glory. '^ 
That  is  all;  and  that  object  was  attained.  Witness  the  calm,  grateful 
retrospect  upon  that  first  day  of  miracles,  summed  up  in  these  simple 
but  intensely  conscious  words:  '  And  His  disciples  believed  on  Him.' 
A  sign  it  was,  from  whatever  point  we  view  its  meaning,  as 
previously  indicated.  For,  like  the  diamond  that  shines  with  many 
colours,  it  has  many  meanings;  none  of  them  designed,  in  the  coarse 
sense  of  the  term,  but  all  real,  because  the  outcome  of  a  real  Divine 
Life  and  history.  And  a  real  miracle  also,  not  only  historically,  but 
as  viewct^  in  its  many  meanings;  the  beginning  ot^all  others,  which 
in  a  sense  are  but  the  unfolding  of  this  first.  A  miracle  it  is,  which 
cannot  be  explained,  but  is  ouly  enhanced  by  the  almost  incredible  ' 
•platitudes  to  which  negative  criticism  has  sunk  in  its  commentation,* 

'  On  the  omission  of  certain  parts  of  passage. 

St.  John's  narrative  by  the  Synoptists,  ^  In   this,  the  first  of  his  miracles,  it 

and  vice  vei-sd,  and  on  the  supposed  dif-  was  all   the   more    necessary    that    He 

ferences,  I  can  do  no  better  than  refer  should  manifest  his  glory, 

the  reader  to    the   admirable    remarks  ■*  Thus  ;S'c/«e«A:e;  regards  Christ's  answer 

of  Canon   WestcoU,  Introduction  to  the  to  Mary  as  a  proof  that  He  was  not  on 

Study  of  the  Gospels,  pp.  280  &c.  good  terms   with   His   family;    Paidus 

-  According  to  the  best  reading,  and  suggests,  that  Jesus  had   brought    the 

literally,  'This   did— l)eginning  of  signs  wine,  and  that  it  was  afterwards  mixed 

— Jesus  in  Cana.'     Upon  a  careful  review  with   the    water    in    the    stone- vessels; 

the  Raljbinic  expression  Sirmind  (taken  Gfrdi-ei;  that  Mary  had  brought  it  as  a 

from  the  Greek  word  here  used)  would  present,  and  at  the  feast  given  Jesus  the 

seem  to  me  more  fully  to  render  the  idea  appropriate  hint  when  to  have  it  set  on. 

than  the  Hel^rew  0/h.     But  the  signiti-  The  gloss  of  Benan  seems  to  me  even 

cant  use  of  the  word  sign  should  be  well  more  untenable  and  repulsive, 
marked.     See   Canon    WestcoU  on  the 


THE   MIRACLE   'A   SIGN.' 


363 


for  whicli  there  assuredly  exists  no  Ic^-ondary  basis,  either  in  Old 
Testament  history,  or  in  contemporary  Jewish  expectation; '  which 
cannot  be  sublimated  into  nineteenth-century  idealism;''  least  of  all 
can  be  conceived  as  an  after-thought  of  Ilis  disciples,  invented  by  an 
Ephesian  writer  of  the  second  century.^  But  even  the  allegorical 
illustration  of  St.  Augustine,  who  reminds  us  that  in  the  grape  the 
water  of  rain  is  ever  changed  into  wine,  is  scarcely  true,  save  as  a 
bare  illustration,  and  only  lowers  our  view  of  the  miracle.  For  miracle 
it  is,*  and  will  ever  remain;  not,  indeed,  magic,^  nor  arbitrary  power, 
but  power  with  a  moral  puri)ose,  and  that  the  highest/  And  we 
believe  it,  because  this  '  sign  '  is  the  first  of  all  those  miracles  in  which 
the  Miracle  of  Miracles  gave  'a  sign,'  and  manifested  forth  His 
glory — the  glory  of  His  Person,  the  glory  of  His  I'urpose,  and  the 
glory  of  His  Work. 


CHAP 

IV 


'  Aijainst  this  view  of  Sfrauss,  see 
Lilcke,  u.  s.  \).  477. 

^  So  Lunge,  in  liis  '  Life  of  Christ,'  im- 
asiiiiiis  tliat  converse  .with  Jesns  had  jiut 
all  in  that  higher  ecstasy  in  which  He 
gave  them  to  drink  from  the  fulness 
of  Himself.  Similar  spiritualisation — 
thougli  T)y  each  in  his  own  manner — has 
been  attempted  hyBaiir,  Keim,  Einild, 
II/l;/f'i>fe/d.am\  others.  But  it  seems  more 
rational,  with  Schweizer  and  lIV^v.s'^^,  to 
deny  the  historical  accuracy  of  the  wliole, 
than  to  resort  to  such  exi)edieiits. 

*  Hilgenfeld,  however,  sees  in  this 
miracle  an  evidence  that  tiie  Christ  of 
the  fourth  Gospel  proclaimed  another 
and  a  higher  than  the  God  of  the  Old 
Testament — in  short,  evidence  of  the 
Gnostic  taint  of  the  fourth  Gospel. 

*  Meyer  well  reminds  us  that '  physical 


incom]irehensibility  is  not  identical  with 
absolute  impossibility.' 

^  Uodct  has  scarcely  rightly  marked 
the  difference. 

''  If  I  rightly  understand  the  meaning 
of  Dr.  Alilott's  remarks  on  the  miracles 
in  the  fourth  Gosi)el  (Encycl.  Britan.  vol. 
X.  ]).  825  b),  they  imi)ly  that  the  cliange 
of  the  water  into  wine  was  an  emblematic 
reference  to  tlie  Eucharistic  wine,  this 
view  being  supporttMl  by  a  reference  to 
1  John  V.  8.  But  could  this  be  considered 
sufficient  ground  for  the  inference,  that 
no  historic  reality  attaches  to  the  whole 
history  ?  In  that  case  it  would  have  to  be 
seriously  maintained,  that  an  Ei)hesian 
writer  a.t  the  end  of  the  second  century 
had  invented  the  fiction  of  the  miracu- 
lous change  of  water  into  wine,  for  the 
purpose  of  certain  Eucharistic  teaching  I 


364 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 

m 


«  St.  Matt, 
iv.  13;  ix.  1; 
St.  Mark  ii. 
1 


^  St.  Mark 
vi.  3 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  CLEANSING  OF   THE  TEMPLE — '  THE  SIGN,'  WHICH  IS  NOT  A  SIGN. 

(,St.  John  ii.  13-25.) 

It  has  been  said  that  Mary  uiulerstood,  and  yet  did  not  understand 
Jesus.  And  of  this  there  seems  fresh  evidence  in  the  circumstance  that, 
immediately  after  the  marriage  of  Cana,  she  and  the  '  brethren  of 
Jesus  '  went  with  Him,  or  followed  Him,  to  Capernaum,  which  hence- 
forth became  '  His  own  city, '  *  during  His  stay  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee. 
The  question,  whether  He  had  first  returned  to  Nazareth,  seems 
almost  trifling.  It  may  have  been  so,  and  it  may  be  that  His  brothers 
had  joined  Him  there,  while  His  '  sisters,'  being  married,  remained  at 
Nazareth.''  For  the  departure  of  the  family  from  Nazareth  many 
reasons  will,  in  the  peculiar  circumstances,  suggest  themselves.  And 
yet  one  feels,  that  their  following  Jesus  and  His  disciples  to  their  new 
home  had  something  to  do  with  their  understanding,  and  yet  not 
understanding,  of  Him,  which  had  been  characteristic  of  Mary's  silent 
withdrawal  after  the  reply  she  had  received  at  the  feast  of  Cana,  and 
her  significant  direction  to  the  servants,  implicitly  to  do  what  He  bade 
them.  Equally  in  character  is  the  willingness  of  Jesus  to  allow  His 
family  to  join  Him — not  ashamed  of  their  humbleness,  as  a  Jewish 
Messiah  might  have  been,  nor  impatient  of  their  ignorance:  tenderly 
near  to  them,  in  all  that  concerned  the  humanness  of  His  feelings; 
sublimely  far  from  them,  in  all  connected  with  His  Work  and  Mission. 
It  is  almost  a  relief  to  turn  from  the  long  discussion  (to  m' hich 
reference  has  already  been  made):  whether  those  who  bore  that 
designation  were  His  '  brothers '  and  '  sisters '  in  the  real  sense,  or  the 
children  of  Joseph  by  an  earlier  marriage,  or  else  His  cousins — and 
to  leave  it  in  the  indefiniteness  which  rests  upon  it.^  But  the  observant 


^  In  support  of  the  natural  interpreta- 
tion of  these  terms  (whicli  I  frankly  own 
to  be  my  view)  not  only  St.  Matt.  i.  25 
and  St.  Luke  ii.  7  may  be  urged,  but 
these  two  questions  may  be  put, suggested 
by  Archdeacon  Xorris  (who  himself  holds 
them  to  iiave  been  the  children  of  .Joseph 
bv  a  fDriiicr  marriage):  How  could  our 


Lord  have  been,  through  Joseph,  the  heir 
of  David's  tin-one  (according  to  the  gene- 
alogies), if  Joseph  had  elder  sons?  And 
again,  What  became  of  the  six  young 
motherless  children  when  Joseph  an<l  tlie 
Virgin  went  tir.st  to  Bethlehem,  and  then 
into  Egypt,  and  why  are  the  elder  sons 
iu)t   mentioned  on   the  occasion   of  the 


CAPERNAUM.  3(55 

reader  will  ])r()l)!il)ly  iiiai-k,  in  connection  with  this  controversy,  that     chap. 
it  is,  to  say  the  least,  strange  that  'brothers'  of  Jesus  should,  Avith-         v 

out  I'urther  explanation,  have  been  introduced  in  the  fourth  Gospel,    ^ r^^ 

if  it  was  an  Ei)hesian  i)ro(luction,  if  not  a  fiction  of  spiritualistic 
tendency;  strange  also,  that  the  fourth  Gospel  alone  should  have 
recorded  the  removal  to  Capernaum  of  the  'mother  and  l)rothers '  of 
Jesus,  in  company  with  llim.  But  this  by  the  way,  and  in  reference 
to  recent  controversies  about  the  authorship  of  the  fourth  Gospel. 

If  we  could  only  feel  quite  sure — and  not  merely  deem  it  most 
probable — that  the  Tell  Ham  of  modern  exploration  marks  the  site  of 
the  ancient  Capernaum,  Kephar  Nachum,  or  Tanchumin  (the  latter, 
perhaps,  'village  of  consolation '),  with  what  solemn  interest  would 
we  wander  over  its  ruins.'  We  know  it  from  New  Testartient  history, 
and  from  the  writings  of  Josei)hus.''     A  rancorous  notice  and  certain  » Jewish 

.  .  War  iii.  10. 

vile  insinuations^  of  the  Rabbis, '' connecting  it  with  '  heresy,' pre-  8;Life72 
sumably  that  of  Christianity,  seem  also  to  point  to  Kephar  Nachum  ecci^u  r!^ 
as  the  home  of  Jesus,  where  so  many  of  His  miracles  were  done,    ed.wrrsh^' 
At  the  time  it  could  have  been  of  only  recent  origin,  since  its  Syna-  T&^asnT 
gogue  had  but  lately  been  reared,  through  the  friendly  liberality  of 
that  true  and  fiuthful  Centurion."     But  already  its  importance  was  °st.  Matt. 

''  ^  viii.  5,  &c. 

such,  that  it  had  become  the  station  of  a  garrison,  and  of  one  of  the 
principal  custom-houses.  Its  soft,  sweet  air,  by  the  glorious  Lake  of 
Galilee,  with  snow-capped  Hermon  full  in  view  in  the  North — from  a 
distance,  like  Mount  Blanc  over  the  Lake  of  Geneva;^  the  fertility  of 
the  country — notably  of  the  plain  of  Gennesaret  close  by;  and  the 
merry  babble,  and  fertilising  proximity  of  a  spring  which,  from  its 
teeming  with  fish  like  that  of  the  Nile,  was  popularly  regarded  as 
springing  from  the  river  of  Egypt — this  and  more  must  have  made 
Capernaum  one  of  the  most  delightful  places  in  these  '  Gardens  of 
Princes,'  as  the  Rabbis  interpreted  the  word  'Gennesaret,'  by  the 
'cither-shaped  lake'  of  that  name.*  The  town  lay  quite  up  on  its 
north-western  shore,  only  two  miles  from  where  the  Jordan  falls  into 
the  lake.     As  we  wander  over  that  field  of  ruins,  about  half  a  mile  in 

visit  to  the  Temple  ?  (Commentary  on  the  The  second  of  the  two  notices  evidently 

New  Testament,  vol.  i.  p.  117. »  refers  to  the  first.     The  'heretic'  Jacob 

'  Bobinson,  Sep]},  and,  if  I  nnderstand  spoken  of,  is  the  bete  noire  of  t\w  Rabbis, 

llim  aright,  Lieut.  Cornier,  regard  Khan  The  implied  charges  against  the  Chris- 

Mhiycli   (Tent-Work  in  Palest,    vol.    ii.  tians  remind  one  of  the  description,  Rev. 

pp.  1S2  etc.)  as  the  site  of  Capernaum;  ii.  20-24. 

but  most  modern  writers  are  agi"(>ed  in  -^  The  comparison  is  Canon  Tristrarn's 

lixlng  it  at  TeU  Ihlin.  (Land  of  Israel,  p.  427). 

-  The  stories  are  too  foolish,  and  the  ^  This  is  another  Rabbinic  interpreta- 

iusinuations  too  vile,  to  be  here  repeated.  tion  of  the  term  Gennesaret. 


366 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Mark 
ii.  15 ; 
com  p. 
ill.  20,  31 

•>  St.  Matt, 
viii.  14 


"St.  .John 
Vi.  49,  59 


d  A.D.  27 


length  by  a  quarter  in  breadth,  which  in  all  probability  mark  the  site 
of  ancient  Capernaum,  we  can  scarcely  realise  it,  that  the  desolate- 
iiess  all  around  has  taken  the  place  of  the  life  and  beauty  of  eighteen 
centuries  ago.  Yet  the  scene  is  the  same,  though  the  breath  of  judg- 
ment has  long  swei)t  the  freshness  from  its  face.  Here  lies  in 
unruffled  stillness,  or  wildly  surges,  lashed  by  sudden  storms,  the 
deej)  blue  lake,  600  or  700  feet  below  the  level  of  the  Mediterranean. 
We  can  look  up  and  down  its  extent,  al)out  twelve  miles,  or  across  it, 
about  six  miles.  Right  over  on  the  other  side  from  where  we  stand 
— somewhere  there,  is  the  place  where  Jesus  miraculously  fed  the  five 
thousand.  Over  here  came  the  little  ship,  its  timbers  still  trembling, 
and  its  sides  and  deck  wet  with  the  spray  of  that  awful  night  of 
storm,  when  He  came  to  the  weary  rowers,  and  brought  with  Him 
calm.  Up  that  beach  they  drew^  the  boat.  Here,  close  by  the  shore, 
stood  the  Synagogue,  built  of  white  limestone  on  dark  basalt  founda- 
tion. North  of  it,  up  the  gentle  slopes,  stretched  the  town.  East 
and  south  is  the  lake,  in  almost  continuous  succession  of  lovely  small 
bays,  of  which  more  than  seventeen  may  be  counted  within  six  miles, 
and  in  one  of  which  nestled  Capernaum.  All  its  houses  are  gone, 
scarce  one  stone  left  on  the  other:  the  good  Centurion's  house,  that 
of  Matthew  the  publican,"  that  of  Simon  Peter,"  the  temporary  home 
which  first  sheltered  the  Master  and  His  loved  ones.  All  are  unre- 
cognisable— a  confused  mass  of  ruins — save  only  that  white  Syna- 
gogue in  which  He  taught.  From  its  ruins  we  can  still  measure  its 
dimensions,  and  trace  its  fallen  pillars;  nay,  we  discover  over  the 
lintel  of  its  entrance  the  device  of  a  pot  of  manna,  which  may  have 
lent  its  form  to  His  teaching  there " — a  tlevice  different  from  that  of 
the  seven-branched  candlestick,  or  that  other  most  significant  one  of 
the  Paschal  Lamb,  which  seem  to  have  been  so  frequent  over  the 
Synagogues  in  Galilee.^ 

And  this,  then,  is  Capernaum — the  first  and  the  chief  home  of 
Jesus,  when  He  had  entered  on  His  active  work.  But,  on  this 
occasion.  He  '  continued  there  not  many  days. '  For,  already,  '  the 
Jews'  Passover  was  at  hand,'  and  He  must  needs  keep  that  feast  in 
Jerusalem.  If  our  former  computations  are  right — and,  in  the 
nature  of  things,  it  i.s  impossible  to  be  absolutely  certain  about 
exact  dates — and  John  began  his  preaching  in  the  autumn  of  the 
year  7*79  from  the  building  of  Rome,  or  in  26  of  our  present  reckon- 
ing, while  Jesus  was  baptized  in  the  early  winter  following,'*^  then 


'  Conip.  ospecially  Warren's  Recovery 
of  Jerusalem,  pp.  337-351. 


2   W/'fi.s-pfer  and  most   modern  writers 
place  tlie  Baptism  of  Jesus  in  tbe  summer 


PREPARING   FOR   THE   FIRST   PASSOVER. 


3G7 


this  Passover  must  have  taken  place  in  the  spring  (about  April)  of 
the  same  year."  The  piei)aratiuus  for  it  had,  indeed,  conunenced  a 
montli  before.  Not  to  speak  of  the  needful  domestic  arrangements 
for  the  journey  of  pilgrims  to  Jerusalem,  the  whole  land  seemed  in 
a  state  of  preparation.  A  month  before  the  feast  (on  the  15th  Adar) 
bridges  and  roads  were  i)ut  in  rei)air,  and  sepulchres  whitened,  to 
prevent  accidental  pollution  to  the  pilgrims.  Then,  some  would 
select  this  out  of  the  three  great  annual  feasts  for  the  tithing  of 
their  flocks  and  herds,  which,  in  such  case,  had  to  1)0  done  two 
weeks  before  the  Passover;  while  others  would  fix  on  it  as  the  time 
for  going  up  to  Jerusalem  before  the  feast  '  to  purify  themselves  " '' — 
that  is,  to  undergo  the  ju'cscribed  purification  in  any  case  of  Levitical 
defilement.  But  wliat  must  have  appealed  to  every  one  in  the  land 
was  the  appearance  of  the  'money-changers'  (ShulcJianhn),  who 
opened  their  stalls  in  every  country-town  on  the  15tli  of  Adar  (just  a 
month  before  the  feast).  They  were,  no  doubt,  regularly  accredited 
and  duly  authorised.  For,  all  Jews  and  proselytes — -"svomen,  slaves, 
and  minors  excepted — had  to  pay  the  annual  Temple-tribute  of  half 
a  shekel,  according  to  the  'sacred'  standard,  equal  to  a  common 
Galilean  shekel  (two  dcnars),  or  about  Is.  2d.  of  our  money.  From 
this  tax  many  of  the  priests — to  the  chagrin  of  the  Rabl)is — claimed 
exemi)tion,  on  the  ingenious  plea  that  in  Lev.  vi.  23  (A.Y.)  every 
offering  of  a  priest  was  ordered  to  be  burnt,  and  not  eaten;  while 
from  the  Temple-tribute  such  offerings  were  paid  for  as  the  two  wave 
loaves  and  the  shewbread,  which  were  afterwards  eaten  by  priests. 
Hence,  it  was  argued,  their  payment  of  Temple-tribute  would  have 
been  incompati1)le  with  Lev.  vi.  23! 

But  to  return.  This  Temple-tribute  had  to  be  paid  in  exact 
half-shekels  of  the  Sanctuary,  or  ordinary  Galilean  shekels.  When 
it  is  remembered  that,  besides  strictly  Palestinian  silver  and  especially 
copper  coin,'  Persian,  Tyrian,  Syrian,  Egyptian,  Grecian,  and  Boman 


CHAP. 

V 


"  780  A.T-.O. 

or  27  A.D. 


''  St.  .John 
xi.  55 


of  27  A.D.,  and,  accordingly,  the  first 
Passover  iu  spring,  28  a.d.  But  it  seems 
to  me  highly  improbable,  that  so  long  an 
interval  as  nine  or  ten  months  should 
have  elapsed  between  John's  first  jtreach- 
ing  and  the  Baptism  of  Jesus.  Besides, 
in  that  case,  how  are  we  to  account  for 
the  eight  or  nine  months  between  the 
Bai)tlsm  and  the  Passover  ?  So  far  as  I 
know,  tlie  only  reason  for  this  strange 
hypothesis  is  St.  John  ii.  20,  which  will 
be  explained  in  its  proper  jjlace. 

'  Simon  Maccabee  had  copper  money 
coined;  the  so-called  copper  shekel,   a 


little  more  than  a  penny,  and  also  half 
and  quarter  shekels  (about  a  half-penny, 
and  a  farthing).  His  successors  coined 
even  smaller  copper  money.  During  the 
whole  period  from  the  death  of  .Simon 
to  the  last  Jewish  war  no  Jewish  silver 
coins  issued  from  the  Palestinian  mint, 
but  only  copper  coins.  Hn-zfeld  (Han- 
delsgesch.  pp.  178,  179)  suggests  that 
there  was  sutficient  foreign  silver  coin- 
age circulating  in  the  country,  while 
naturally  only  a  very  snuUl  amount  of 
foreign  copper  coin  would  be  brought  to 
Palestine. 


368  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  iiionoy  cireuhitcd  in  the  country,  it  will  ho  understood  what  work 
ni  these  '  inoney-chaiigers '  must  have  had.  From  the  15th  to  the  25th 
^— '^^'^-^  Adar  they  had  stalls  in  every  country-towu.  On  the  latter  date, 
wliicli  must  therefore  be  considered  as  marking  the  first  arrivals  of 
festive  pilgrims  in  the  city,  the  stalls  in  the  country  were  closed,  and 
the  money-changers  henceforth  sat  within  the  precincts  of  the 
Temple.  All  who  refused  to  pay  the  Temple-tribute  (except  priests) 
were  liable  to  distraint  of  their  goods.  The  '  money-changers ' 
made  a  statutory  fixed  charge  of  a  3Iauh,  or  from  firf.  to  2d.  ^  (or, 
according  to  others,  of  half  a  maah)  on  every  half-shekel.  This 
was  called  qolbon.  But  if  a  person  tendered  a  Sela  (a  four-denar 
piece,  in  value  two*  half-shekels  of  the  Sanctuary,  or  two  Galilean 
shekels),  he  had  to  pay  double  qclbon;  one  for  his  half-shekel  of 
tribute-money,  the  other  for  his  change.  Although  not  only  priests, 
but  all  other  non-obligatory  officers,  and  those  who  paid  for  their 
poorer  brethren,  were  exempted  from  the  charge  of  qolbon,  it  must 
have  brought  in  an  immense  revenue,  since  not  only  many  native 
Palestinians  might  come  without  the  statutory  coin,  Inita  vast  number 
of  foreign  Jews  presented  themselves  on  such  occasions  in  the  Temple. 
Indeed,  if  we  compute  the  annual  Temple-tribute  at  about  15,000^., 
the  bankers'  profits  may  have  amounted  to  from  8,000/.  to  9,000/.,  an 
immense  sum  in  the  circumstances  of  the  countr^^^ 

But  even  this  does  not  represent  all  the  facts  of  the  case.  We 
have  already  seen,  that  the  '  money-changers  '  in  the  Temple  gave 
change,  when  larger  amounts  than  were  equivalent  to  the  Temple- 
ti'ibute  were  proti'ered.  It  is  a  reasonable,  nay,  an  almost  necessary 
inference,  that  many  of  the  foreign  Jews  arriving  in  Jerusalem  would 
take  the  opportunity  of  changing  at  these  tables  their  foreign  money, 
and  for  this,  of  course,  fresh  charges  woul<l  be  made.  For,  there  was 
a  great  deal  to  be  bought  within  the  Temple-area,  needful  for  the 
feast  (in  the  way  of  sacrifices  and  their  adjuncts),  or  for  purification, 
and  it  would  be  better  to  get  the  right  money  from  the  authorised 
changers,  than  have  disputes  with  the  dealers.  We  can  picture  to 
ourselves  the  scene  around  the  table  of  an  Eastern  money-changer — 
the  weighing  of  the  coins,  deductions  for  loss  of  weight,  arguing,  dis- 
puting, bargaining — and  we  can  realise  the  terrible  truthfulness  of 

*  It   is   extremely  difficult    to  tix  the  witliin  bounds.  All  tlie  rejjulations  about 

e./;ac<  equivaleot.     Cassel  comymies  it  nt  the  Tri//u(e  and  Qolboti  are  enumerated 

one-tifth,  Ilerzfeld  at  one-sixth,  Zunz  at  in  Sheqal.  i.    I  have  not  <i;iven  references 

one-third,  and  Winer  at  one-fourth  of  a  for  eacli  of  the  statements  advanced,  not 

denar.  because  they  are  not  to  hand  in   reiiurd 

-  Comp.  Winer's  Real-Wdrterb.   I  have  to   almost   every   detail,    but   to    avoid 

taken  a  low  estimate,  so  as  to  Ijc  well  needless  quotations. 


THE   OFFERERS   IN   THE   TEMPLE.  309 

our  Lord's  charo'c  tliat  they  had  made  the  Father's  House  a  mart  and     ciIAP. 
place  of  traflic.      But  even  so,   the  business  of  the  Temple  money-         V 
changers  would  not  be  exhausted.     Through  their  hands  would  i)ass  ^— — r^— ^ 
tile  iunnense  votive  ofl'erings  of  foreign  Jews,  or  of  proselytes,  to  the 
Temi)le;  indeed,   they  probably  transacted  all  business  matters  con- 
nected with  the  Sanctuary.     It  is  difficult  to  realise  the  vast  accuniu- 
hition  of  wealth  in  the  Temple-treasury.     But  some  idea  of  it  may 
1)0  formed  from  tlie  circumstance  that,  despite  many  previous  spolia- 
tions, the  value  of  the  gold  and  silver  which  Crassus"  carried  from  "54-53  b.c. 
the   Temple-treasury  amounted  to  the  enormous  sum  of  about  two 
and  a  half  millions  sterling.     Whether  or  not  these  Temple  money- 
changers may  have  transacted  other  banking  business,  given  drafts, 
or  cashed  those  from  correspondents,  received  and  lent  money  at 
interest — all  which  was  common  at  the  time— must    remain   unde- 
termined. 

Readers  of  the  New  Testament  know,  that  the  noisy  and  incon- 
gruous business  of  an  Eastern  money-lender  was  not  the  only  one 
carried  on  within  the  sacred  Temple-enclosure.  It  was  a  great 
accommodation,  that  a  person  bringing  a  sacrifice  might  not  only 
learn,  but  actually  obtain,  in  the  Temple  from  its  officials  what  was 
required  for  the  meat-  and  drink-offering.  The  prices  were  fixed  by 
tarifl'  every  month,  and  on  payment  of  the  stated  amount  the  offerer 
received  one  of  four  counterfoils,  which  respectively  indicated,  and, 
on  handing  it  to  the  proper  official,  procured  the  prescribed  comple- 
ment of  his  sacrifice.^  The  Priests  and  Levites  in  charge  of  this  made 
up  their  accounts  every  evening,  and  these  (though  necessary)  trans- 
actions must  have  left  a  considerable  margin  of  profit  to  the  treasury. 
This  would  soon  load  to  another  kind  of  traffic.  Ofl'erers  might,  of 
course,  bring  their  sacrificial  animals  with  them,  and  we  know  that 
on  the  Mount  of  Olives  there  were  four  shops,  specially  for  the  sale 
of  pigeons  and  other  things  requisite  for  sacrificial  purposes.''^  But  'jer.Taan. 
then,  when  an  animal  was  brought,  it  had  to  be  examined  as  to  its 
Leviticaf  fitness  by  persons  regularly  qualified  and  appointed.  Disputes 
might  here  arise,  due  to  the  ignorance  of  the  purchaser,  or  the  greed 
of  the  examiner.  A  regularly  qualified  examiner  was  called  mumcJieh 
(one  approved),  and  how  much  labour  Avas  given  to  the  acquisition  of 

1  Coinp.    'The  Temple   and  its  Ser-  him  that  these  wore  the  C7tanu>/of/i,  or 

vices,  etc.,'  pp.  118,  Hi).  sliops,  of  the  family  of  Annas,  to  wliich 

-'  M.  Dercnhou rg  (Ilistoire  (le  Palest..  tlie  Saiiliedrin  migrated  forty  years  be- 

1).  4()7)  liolds  tliat  tliese  sliops  were  kept  fore  tlie  destruction  of  Jerusalem.     See 

by  priests,  or  at  any  rate  tliat  the  jirofits  farther  on. 
went  to  them.     But  I  cannot  agree  with 


IV.  8 


370 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   TIIR   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
111 


''  Jerus. 
Chag.  78  a 


the  rc(inisit('  knowledge  ai)i)ears  from  the  cireumrftaiice,  that  a  certain 
teacher  is  said  t(^  have  spent  eighteen  months  with  a  farmer,  to  learn 
what  faults  in  an  animal  were  temporary,  and  which  permanent/ 
Now,  as  we  are  informed  that  a  certain  mumcheh  of  firstlings  had 
been  authorised  to  charge  for  his  inspection  from  four  to  six  Isar 
{l^cl.  to  about  2d.),  according  to  the  animal  inspected,^  it  is  but 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  a  similar  fee  may  have  been  exacted 
for  examining  the  ordinary  sacrificial  animals.  But  all  troulMe  and 
diflieulty  would  be  avoided  by  a  regular  market  within  the  Temple- 
enclosure,  where  sacrificial  animals  could  bo  purchased,  having 
presumably  been  duly  inspected,  and  all  fees  paid  before  being 
offered  for  sale.^  It  needs  no  comment  to  show  how  utterly  the 
Temple  would  be  profaned  by  such  traflic,  and  to  what  scenes  it 
might  lead.  From  Jewish  writings  we  know,  that  most  improper 
transactions  were  carried  on,  to  the  taking  undue  advantage  of  the 
poor  people  who  came  to  offer  their  sacrifices.  Thus  we  read,"  that 
on  one  occasion  the  price  of  a  couple  of  pigeons  was  run  up  to  the 
enormous  figure  of  a  gold  denar  (a  Roman  gold  denar,  about  15s.  3c7.), 
when,  through  the  intervention  of  Simeon,  the  grandson  of  the  great 
Hillel,  it  was  brought  down  before  night  to  a  quarter  of  a  silver 
denar,  or  about  2(7.  each.  Since  Simeon  is  represented  as  intro- 
ducing his  resolve  to  this  effect  with  the  adjuration,  '  by  the  Temple,' 
it  is  not  unfair  to  infer  that  these  prices  had  ruled  within  the  sacred 
enclosure.  It  was  probably  not  merely  controversial  zeal  for  the 
peculiar  teaching  of  his  master  Shammai,  but  a  motive  similar  to 
that  of  Simeon,  which  on  another  occasion  induced  Baba  ben  Buta 
(well  known  as  giving  Herod  the  advice  of  rebuilding  the  Temple), 
when  he  found  the  Temple-court  empty  of  sacrificial  animals,  through 
the  greed  of  those  who  had  ^  thus  desolated  the  House  of  God,'  to 
bring  in  no  less  than  three  thousand  sheep,  so  that  the  people  might 
offer  sacrifices.'^  ^ 

This  leads  up  to  another  question,  most  important  in  this  con- 
nection. The  whole  of  this  traffic — money-changing,  selling  of  doves, 
and  market  for  sheep  and  oxen — was  in  itself,  and  from  its  attendant 
circumstances,  a  terrible  desecration;    it  was  also  liable   to   gross 


'  It  is  certain  that  this  Teiiii)le-market 
could  not  have  been  '  on  both  sides  of 
the  Eastern  Gate — the  ijate  Shushan — as 
far  as  Solomon's  Porch '  (Dr.  Farirtr). 
If  it  Iiad  been  on  both  sides  of  this  ^ate, 
it  must  have  l)een  in  Solomon's  Porch. 
But  this  supposition  is  out  of  the  ques- 
tion.    There  would  have  been  no  room 


there  for  a  market,  and  it  formed  tlie 
in-incipal  access  into  the  Sanctuary.  The 
Temple-market  was  undovibtediy  some- 
where in  tlie  'Court  of  the  Gentiles.' 

■^  It  is.  however,  quite  certain  that  Baba 
l)en  Buta  had  not  'been  the  first  to  intro- 
duce '  ( Dr.  Farnir)  t  ids  traffic.  A  i)erusal 
of  Jer.  Cha"r.  78  d  shows  thissutliciiMitly. 


THE   TEMPLE-MAE KET. 


371 


abuses.     But  was  there  about  tlio  tiuie  of  Christ  anythin<2:  to  make  it     chap. 
specially  obnoxious  and  unpopular'!'      The  priesthood  must  always         v 

have  derived  considerable  prolit  from  it — of  course,  not  the  ordinary   "— ^r^ ' 

priests,  who  came  up  in  their  'orders'  to  minister  in  the  Temple,  but 
the  permanent  priestly  oflQcials,  the  resident  leaders  of  the  priest- 
hood, and  especially  the  High-Priestly  family.  This  opens  up  a 
most  interesting  inquiry,  closely  connected,  as  we  shall  show,  with 
Christ's  visit  to  the  Temple  at  this  Passover.  But  the  materials 
here  at  our  command  are  so  disjointed,  that,  in  attempting  to  put 
them  together,  we  can  only  suggest  what  seems  most  probable,  not 
state  what  is  absolutely  certain.  What  became  of  the  profits  of  the 
money-changers,  and  who  were  the  real  owners  of  the  Temple-market? 

To  the  first  of  these  cjuestions  the  Jerusalem  Talmud''  gives  no   "Jor.  sheq. 
less  than  five  different  answers,  showing  that  there  was  no  fixed  rule  lines, p.  4g 


b 


as  to  the  employment  of  these  profits,  or,  at  least,  that  it  was  no  longer 
known  at  that  time.  Although  four  of  these  answers  point  to  their 
use  for  the  public  service,  yet  that  which  seems  most  likely  assigns 
the  whole  profits  to  the  money-changers  themselves.  But  in  that 
case  it  can  scarcely  be  doubted,  that  they  had  to  pay  a  considerable 
rental  or  percentage  to  the  leading  Temple-ofiicials.  The  profits 
from  the  sale  of  meat-  and  drink-ofierings  went  to  the  Temple- 
treasury.  But  it  can  hardly  be  believed,  that  such  was  the  case  in 
regard  to  the  Temple-market.  On  the  other  hand,  there  can  be 
little  doubt,  that  this  market  was  what  in  Rabbinic  writings  is 
styled  '  the  Bazaars  of  the  sons  of  Annas  '  {CJianuyoth  beney  Chanan), 
the  sons  of  that  High-Priest  Annas,  Avho  is  so  infamous  in  New  Testa- 
ment history.  When  we  read  that  the  Sanhedrin,  forty  years  before 
the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  transferred  its  meeting-place  from  '  the 
Hall  of  Hewn  Stones  '  (on  the  south  side  of  the  Court  of  the  Priests, 
and  therefore  partly  within  the  Sanctuary  itself)  to  'the  Bazaars,' 
and  then  afterwards  to  the  City,"  the  inference  is  plain,  that  these  "Eosii 
Bazaars  were  those  of  the  sons  of  Annas  the  High-Priest,  and  that  they 
occupied  part  of  the  Temple-court;  in  short,  that  the  Temple-market 
and  the  Bazaars  of  the  sons  of  Annas  are  identical. 

If  this  inference,  which  is  in  accordance  with  received  Jewish 
opinion,  be  admitted,  we  gain  much  light  as  regards  the  purifi- 
cation of  the  Temple  by  Jesus,  and  the  words  which  He  spake  on  that 
occasion.  For,  our  next  i)osition  is  that,  from  the  unrighteousness  of 
the  traffic  carried  on  in  these  Bazaars,  and  the  greed  of  their  owners, 
the  '  Temple-market '  was  at  the  time  nu:)st  unpopular.  This  appears, 
not  only  from  the  conduct  and  words  of  the  patriarch   Simeon  and  of 


372 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  Sii>hiv  on 
Deut.  §  105, 
end.  ed. 
Frifdniann, 
p.  9o  h  •  Jer. 
Peah  1.  6 

'■  St.  Matt, 
xxi.  12 


"^  Ant.  XX.  9. 
2-4 


a  Pes.  57  a 


''  Pes.  u.  8. 


Baba  ben  Buta  (as  above  quoted),  but  from  the  fact  that  popular  in- 
dignation, three  years  before  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  swept  away 
the  Bazaars  of  the  family  of  Annas,''  and  this,  as  expressly  stated,  on 
account  of  the  sinful  greed  which  characterised  their  dealings.  And 
if  any  doubt  should  still  linger  in  the  mind,  it  would  surely  be  removed 
by  our  Lord's  open  denunciation  of  the  Temple-market  as  '  a  den  of 
robbers. ' "  Of  the  avarice  and  corruption  of  this  infamous  High- 
Priestly  family,  alike  Josephus  and  the  Rabbis  give  a  most  terrible 
picture.  Josephus  describes  Annas  (or  Ananus),  the  son  of  the- 
Annas  of  the  New  Testament,  as  '■  a  great  hoarder  up  of  money, ' 
very  rich,  and  as  despoiling  by  open  violence  the  common  priests  of 
their  official  revenues."  The  Talmud  also  records  the  curse  which 
a  distinguished  Rabbi  of  Jerusalem  (Abba  Shaul)  pronounced  upon 
the  High-Priestly  families  (including  that  of  Annas),  who  were 
'  themselves  High-Priests,  their  sons  treasurers  (Gizbarin),  their 
sons-in-law  assistant-treasurers  (Ammarkalin),  while  their  servants 
beat  the  people  with  sticks. '  ^  What  a  comment  this  passage  offers 
on  the  bearing  of  Jesus,  as  He  made  a  scourge  to  drive  out  the  very 
servants  who  '  beat  the  people  with  sticks, '  and  upset  their  unholy 
traffic !  It  were  easy  to  add  from  Rabbinic  sources  repulsive  details  of 
their  luxuriousness,  w^astefulness,  gluttony,  and  general  dissoluteness. 
No  wonder  that,  in  the  figurative  language  of  the  Talmud,  the  Temple 
is  represented  as  crying  out  against  them:  '  Go  hence,  ye  sons  of 
Eli,  ye  defile  the  Temple  of  Jehovah!"'  These  painful  notices  of 
the  state  of  matters  at  that  time  help  us  better  to  understand  what 
Christ  did,  and  who  they  w^ere  that  opposed  His  doing. 

These  Temple-Bazaars,  the  property,  and  one  of  the  principal 
sources  of  income,  of  the  family  of  Annas,  were  the  scene  of  the 
purification  of  the  Temple  by  Jesus;  and  in  the  private  locale 
attached  to  these  very  Bazaars,  where  the  Sanhedrin  held  its  meetings 
at  the  time,  the  final  condemnation  of  Jesus  may  have  been  planned, 
if  not  actually  pronounced.  All  this  has  its  deep  significance.  But 
w^e  can  now  al'so  understand  why  the  Temple  officials,  to  whom  these 
Bazaars  belonged,  only  challenged  the  authority  of  Christ  in  thus 
purging  the  Temple.  The  unpopularity  of  the  whole  traffic,  if  not 
their  consciences,  prevented  their  proceeding  to  actual  violence. 
Lastly,  we  can  also  better  perceive  the  significance,  alike  of  Christ's 
action,  and  of  His  reply  to  their  challenge,  spoken  as  it  was  close 
to  the  spot  where  He  was  so  soon  to  be  condemned  by  them. 
Nor  do  we  any  longer  Avonder  that  no  resistance  was  offered  by 
the  people  to  the  action  of  Jesus,  and  that  even  the  remonstrances 


45  &c. 


THE   PURGATION   OF   THE   TEMPLE.  :-J73 

of  tlio    priests  were  not  direct,   l)iit    in   the    Ibrni   of  a    i)er|)lexiii<i     ciiap. 
question.  V 

Foi'  it  is  in  the  direction  just  indicated,  and   in  no  other,  that  "- — c — ' 
objections  have  been  raised  to  the  narrative  of  Christ's  lirst   jjuhlic 
act  in  Jerusalem:  the  purgation  of  the  Temple.     Commentators  have 
sutliciently  pointed  out  the  ditl'ercnces  between  this  and  the  purga- 
tion of  the  Temple  at  the  close  of  His  Ministry."^     Indeed,  on  com-  "St.  Matt. 

,  1      •  1      i  1  1     ji  -V-  xxi.  12.  Jtc. ; 

parison,  these  are  so  obvious,  that  every  reader  can  mark  them.     JSor  st.Mark  xi. 

11     ttc. :  St. 

does  it  seem  difficult  to  understand,  rather  does  it  seem  not  only  Lukexix.  " 
lifting,  but  almost  logically  necessary,  that,  if  any  such  event  had 
occurred,  it  should  have  taken  place  both  at  the  beginning  and  at  the 
close  of  His  public  ministry  in  the  Temple.  Nor  yet  is  there  any- 
thing either  'abrupt'  or  'tactless'  in  such  a  commencement  of  his 
Ministry.  It  is  not  only  profane,  but  unhistorical,  to  look  for  calcula- 
tion and  policy  in  the  Life  of  Jesus.  Had  there  been  such.  He  would 
not  have  died  on  the  Cross.  And  '  abrupt '  it  certainly  was  not. 
Jesus  took  up  the  thread  where  he  had  dropped  it  on  His  tirst  re- 
corded appearance  in  the  Temple,  when  he  had  spoken  His  wonder, 
that  those  who  knew  Him  should  have  been  ignorant,  that  He  must 
be  about  His  Father's  business.  He  was  now  about  His  Father's 
liusiness,  and,  as  we  may  so  say,  in  the  most  elementary  manner.  To 
put  an  end  to  this  desecration  of  His  Fatlier's  House,  which,  by  a 
nefarious  traffic,  had  been  made  a  place  of  mart,  nay,  '  a  den  of 
robbers,'  was,  what  all  who  knew  Mis  Mission  must  have  felt,  a  most 
suitable  and  almost  necessary  beginning  of  His  Messianic  Work. 

And  many  of  those  present  must  have  known  Jesus.  The  zeal 
of  His  early  disciples,  who,  on  their  tirst  recognition  of  Him,  pro- 
claimed the  new-found  Messiah,  could  not  have  given  place  to  absolute 
silence.  The  many  Galilean  pilgrims  in  the  Temple  could  not  but 
have  spread  the  tidings,  and  the  report  must  soon  have  passed  from 
one  to  the  other  in  the  Temple-courts,  as  He  first  entered  their  sacred 
enclosure.  They  would  follow  Him,  and  watch  what  He  did.  Nor 
were  they  disappointed.  He  inaugurated  His  Mission  by  fulfilling 
the  prediction  concerning  Him  Who  was  to  be  Israel's  refiner  and 
purifier  (Mai.  iii.  1-3).  Scarce  had  He  entered  the  Temple-porch, 
and  trod  the  Court  of  the  Gentiles,  than  He  drove  thence  what 
profanely  defiled  it.^     There  was  not  a  hand  lifted,  not  a  word  spoken 

'  It  must,  however,  be  admitted,  that  Komment.  (on  St.  Joliii),  p.  142,  notes, 
even  Lvthpr\\i\.(\  grave  doubts  whetlier  •^  And  so  He  ever  does,  l)e<i;inning  His 

the  narrative  of  the  Synoptists  and  that  Ministry  l).vi)urlfying,  whetlier  as  regards 

of  the  fourth  Gospel  did  not  refer  to  one  the  individual  or  the  Church, 
and   the   same    event.      Comi).    Meyer, 


374  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   .MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      to  arrest  Iliin,  as  He  niade  the  scourge  of  small  cords  (even  this  not 
III        without  significance)  and  with  it  drove  out  of  the  Temple  both  the 

^— 'V'^"^  sheep  and  the  oxen;  not  a  word  said,  uor  a  hand  raised,  as  He  poured 
into  their  receptacles  the  changers'  money,  and  overthrew  their  tables/ 
His  Presence  awed  them,  His  words  awakened  even  their  consciences; 
they  knew,  only  too  well,  how  true  His  denunciations  were.  And 
behind  Him  was  gathered  the  w^ondering  multitude,  that  could  not 
but  sympathise  with  such  1)old,  right  royal,  and  Messianic  vindication 
of  Temple  sanctity  from  the  nefarious  traffic  of  a  hated,  corrupt,  and 
avaricious  Priesthood.  It  was  a  scene  worth  witnessing  l)y  any  true 
Israelite,  a  protest  and  an  act  which,  even  among  a  less  emotional 
people,  would  have  gained  Him  respect,  approbation,  and  admiration, 
and  which,  at  any  rate,  secured  his  safety.^ 

For  when  'the  Jews,'  by  which  here,  as  in  so  many  other  places, 
we  are  to  understand  the  rulers  of  the  people — in  this  instance,  the 
Temple  officials — did  gather  courage  to  come  forward,  they  ventured 
not  to  hiy  hands  on  Him.  It  was  not  yet  the  time  for  it.  In  pre- 
sence of  that  multitude  they  would  not  then  have  dared  it,  even  if 
policy  had  not  dictated  quietness  within  the  Temple-enclosure,  when 
the  Roman  garrison  so  close  by,  in  Fort  Antonia,  kept  jealous  watch 

^Actsxxi.  for  the  first  appearance  of  a  tumult."  Still  more  strangely,  they  did 
not  even  reprove  Him  for  what  He  had  done,  as  if  it  had  been  wrong 
or  improper.  With  infinite  cunning,  as  appealing  to  the  multitude, 
they  only  asked  for  '  a  sign '  which  would  warrant  such  assumption 
of  authority.  But  this  question  of  challenge  marked  two  things: 
the  essential  opposition  between  the  Jewish  authorities  and  Jesus,  and 
the  manner  in  which  they  \^'ould  carry  on  the  contest,  which  was 
henceforth  to  be  waged  between  Him  and  the  rulers  of  the  people. 
That  first  action  of  Jesus  determined  their  mutual  positions;  and 
with  and  in  that  first  conflict  its  end  was  already  involved.  The  action 
of  Jesus  as  against  the  rulers  must  develop  into  a  life-opposition; 
their  first  step  against  Ilini  must  lead  on  to  the  last  in  His  condemna- 
tion to  the  Cross. 

And  Jesus  then  and  there  knew  it  all,  foresaw,  or  rather  saw  it 
all.  His  answer  told  it.  It  was — as  all  His  teaching  to  those  who 
seeing  do  not  see,  and  hearing  do  not  hear,  whose  understanding  is 

'  Canon  Wes'cott  calls  attention  to  tlie  taking  against-wblch  the  Hand  of  Christ 

use  of  two  difTerent  terms  for   money-  is  specially  directed, 

changers  in  vv.   14,  15.      In  the   latter  '^  Yet  Benan  ventures  to  characterise 

only  itis  K-o/l.Au^7crr7)c.of  which  the  Ara-  this  as  a  sudden,  ill-advised  outburst  of 

maic  form  is  qolbon.     It  is  this  qolbon-  ill-humour. 


THE  •8I(;n'  in  answer  to  the  challenge.  375 

darkened  and  heart  hardened — ini)aral)()lic  lan<i:uag'e,  whiehonly  the     CIIAP. 
after-event  would  make  clear.*     As  lor  *  the  sign/  then  and  ever  again         V 
sought  by  an  'evil  and  adulterous  generation ' — evil  in  their  thoughts  ' — -r — ' 
and  ways  and  adulterous  to  the  God  of  Israel — He   had  then,   as  °st.  Matt. 

•^  '  xiii.  11-15; 

afterwards/' only  one  'sign 'to  give:   'Destroy  this  Tem])le,  and  in  st.Markiv. 
three  days  I  will  raise  it  up.'     Thus  lie  met  their  challenge  for  a  1  st.  Matt. 
sign  by  the  challenge  of  a  sign:  Crucify  Plim,  and   He  would  rise   '"'■  '^'^'^ 
again;  let  them  suppress  the  Christ,-  He  would  trium])h.^     A  sign 
this  which  they  understood  not,  but  misunderstood,  and  by  making- 
it  the  ground  of  their  false   charge   in   His  final   trial,   themselves 
unwittingly  fulfilled. 

And  yet  to  all  time  this  is  the  sign,  and  the  only  sign,  wiiich  the 
Christ  has  given,  which  He  still  gives  to  every  '  evil  and  adulterous 
generation,'  to  all  sin-lovers  and  God-forsakers.  They  will  destroy, 
so  far  as  their  power  reaches,  the  Christ,  crucify  Him,  give  His  words 
tlie  lie,  suppress,  sweep  away  Christianity — and  they  shall  not  suc- 
ceed: He  shall  triumph.  As  on  that  first  Easter-day,  so  now  and 
ever  in  history,  He  raises  up  the  Temple,  which  they  break  down. 
This  is  the  'sign,'  the  evidence,  the  only  'sign,'  which  the  Christ 
gives  to  His  enemies;  a  sign  which,  as  an  historical  fact,  has  been 
patent  to  all  men,  and  seen  by  them;  which  might  have  been  evidence; 
but  being  of  the  nature  of  miracle,  not  explicable  by  natural  agencies, 
they  have  misunderstood,  viewing  '  the  Temple  '  merely  as  a  building, 
of  which  they  fully  know  the  architecture,  manner,  and  time  of 
construction,^  but  of  whose  si)iritual  character  and  upbuilding  they 
have  no  knowledge  nor  thought.     And  thus,  as  to  that  generation,  so 

'  I  cannot  see  in  the  words  of  .Jesus  autumn  of  the  year  734-35.  But  it  has 
any  dii'ect  rof(M-ence  to  the  abroii;ation  of  ah^eady  been  explaiued  that,  in  Jewish, 
tiie  material  Temple  and  its  services,  and  reckoning,  the  beginHinir  of  a  new  year 
the  substitution  of  the  Church  for  it.  Of  was  recl^oned  as  a  year.  Thus  if,  accord- 
course,  such  was  the  case,  and  implied  in  iug  to  universal  oi)inion  (comp.  Wieseler, 
His  Crucitixion  and  Resurrection,  though  Chronolog.  Synopse,  pp.  1(15,  166),  the 
not  alluded  to  here.  Temple-building  began   in   Kislev  73-i, 

'^  From  the  expression  (St.  John  ii.  20)  forty-uine  years  after  it  would  briug  us 

'Forty  and  six  years  was  this  Temple  iu  to  the  autumn  770,  and  the  I^assover  of 

building,'  it  has  been  inferred  by  most  780,  or  27  a.d..  would  be  regarded  and 

writers   that   this  Passover   was  of  the  s])oken  of  as  '  forty  and  six  years.'     If  a 

year  791  a.u.c,  or  2S  a.d.,  and  not,  as  Jew  had  calculated  the  time  at  Die  Pass- 

we  have  argued,  of  the  year  780  A.r.r.,  over  781,  he  would  not  have  said  ■  forty- 

or27A.D.     But  their  cal("ulation  rests  (111  six'  but  'forty-seven  j'ears  '    'was  this 

an  oversiglit.     Admittedly  the  rebuild-  Temple   in   building.'     The   mistake   of 

iug  of  the  Temple  began  in  the  autumn  writers  lies   in   forgetting  that  a  fresh 

of  the  eighteenth  year  of  Herod's  reign  year  had  begun  after  the  autumn — or  at 

(Jos.  Ant.  XV.  11.  1-6).   As  Herod's  reign  any  rate  at  the  Passover.     It  may  here 

dates    fi'om    717     a.u.c,    the    Temple-  be  added,  that  the  Temple  was  not  tinally 

building  must  have  commenced   in  the  completed  till  63  a.d. 


376 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


to  all  which  liavc  followed,  this  i.s  still  the  'sign,'  if  the}' understand 
it — the  only  sign,  tlie  Great  Miracle,  which,  as  they  only  calculate 
from  the  visible  and  to  them  ascertained,  these  '  despisers  behold,  and 
wonder,  and  perish, 'for  He  worketh  'a  work  in  their  days,  a  work 
which  they  shall  in  no  wise  believe.* 


THE  WORDH   OF   CHRIST   AS   VIEWED   BY   THE   DI.SCIPLES.  377 


CHAPTER  VL 

THE  TEACHER  COME  FROM  GOD  AND  THE  TEACHER  FROM  JERUSALEM — 
JESUS  AND  NICODEMUS. 

(St.  John  iii.  1-21.) 

But  there  were  those  who  beheld,  and  heard  His  words,  and  did  in  CHAP. 
some  measure  understand  them.  Even  before  Jesus  had  spoken  to  the  ^^ 
Temple-officials,  His  disciples,  as  silently  they  Avatched  Him,  saw  an  ^~^^'  ' 
old  Scripture-saying  kindled  into  light  by  the  halo  of  His  glory.  It 
was  that  of  the  suffering,  self-forgetful,  God-dedicated  Servant  of 
Jehovah,  as  His  figure  stood  out  against  the  Old  Testament  skj^, 
realising  in  a  hostile  world  only  this,  as  the  deepest  element  of  His 
being  and  calling:  entire  inward  and  outward  consecration  to  God,  a 
l)urnt-oft'ering,  such  as  Isaac  would  have  been.  Within  their  minds 
sprang  up  unbidden,  as  when  the  light  of  the  TJrim  and  Thummim 
fell  on  the  letters  graven  on  the  precious  stones  of  the  High-Priest's 
1)reastplate,  those  words  of  old:  'The  zeal  of  Thine  house  eateth  me 
up.'  "•  Thus,  even  in  those  days  of  their  early  learning,  Jesus  purg-  "Ps.  isix.  9 
ing  the  Temple  in  view  of  a  hostile  rulership  was  the  full  realisation 
of  that  picture,  which  must  be  prophetic,  since  no  mere  man  ever  bore 
those  lineaments:  that  of  the  ideal  Nazarite,  whom  the  zeal  of  God's 
house  was  consuming.  And  then  long  afterAvar'ds,  after  His  Passion 
and  Death,  after  those  dark  days  of  loneliness  and  doubt,  after  the 
misty  dawn  of  the  first  recognition — this  word,  which  He  had  spoken 
to  the  rulers  at  the  first,  came  to  them,  with  all  the  convincing  power 
of  pixdiction  fulfilled  by  fact,,  as  an  assured  conviction,  which  in  its 
strong  grasp  held  not  only  the  past,  but  the  present,  because  the  pre- 
sent is  ever  the  fulfilment  of  the  past:  '  When  therefore  He  was  risen 
from  the  dead,  His  disci]ilcs  remembered  that  He  had  said  this  unto 
them;  and  they  believed  the  Scripture,  and  the  word  which  Jesus  had 
said.' 

Again,  as  we  think  of  the  meaning  of  His  refusing  '  a  sign '  to 
the  rulers  of  Israel — or  rather  think  of  the  only  '  sign  '  which  He  did 
give  them — we  see  nothing  incompat  il>le  with  it  in  the  fact  that, at  the 


378  FROM    JOliDAX   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRAXi-iFIGURATION. 

I5()()K      same  feast,  He  did  many  '  signs ' '  in  sight  of  the  people.     For  it  was 
1 1 1         only  the  rulers  who  had  entered  on  that  eonflict,  of  which,  from  the  cha- 

^^ — ','^^  racter  and  aims  of  the  two  parties  engaged,  the  l)cginning  involved  the 
terrible  end  as  its  logical  sequence.  In  presence  of  such  a  foe  only 
one  'sign  '  could  be  given:  that  of  reading  their  inmost  hearts,  and 
in  them  their  real  motives  and  final  action,  and  again  of  setting  forth 
His  own  final  triumph — a  predictive  description,  a  '  no  sign '  that  was, 
and  is,  a  sign  to  all  time.  But  neither  challenge  nor  hostile  demand 
for  a  sign  had  been  addressed  to  Him  by  the  people;.  Indeed  even  at 
the  last,  when  incited  by  their  rulers,  and  blindly  following  them, 
'  they  knew  not  what  they  did.'  And  it  was  to  them  that  Jesus  now, 
on  the  morning  of  His  Work,  spoke  by  'signs.' 

The  Feast  of  the  Passover  commenced  on  the  15th  Nisan,  dating 
it,  of  course,  from  the  preceding  evening.  But  before  that — before 
the  slaying  of  the  Paschal  Lamb,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  14th  Nisan 
— the  visitor  to  the  Temple  would  mark  something  peculiar.^  On  the 
evening  of  the  13th  Nisan,with  which  the  14th,  or  'preparation-day,' 
commenced,  the  head  of  each  household  Avould,  with  lighted  candle 
and  in  solemn  silence,  search  out  all  leaven  in  his  house,  prefacing  his 
search  with  solemn  thanksgiving  and  appeal  to  God,  and  closing  it  by 
an  equally  solemn  declaration  that  he  had  accomplished  it,  so  far  as 
within  his  knowledge,  and  disavowing  responsibility  for  what  lay 
beyond  it.  And  as  the  worshippers  went  to  the  Temple,  they  would 
see  prominently  exposed,  on  a  bench  in  one  of  the  porches,  two  dese- 
crated cakes  of  some  thankoff'ering,  indicating  that  it  was  still  lawful  to 
eat  of  that  which  was  leavened.  At  ten,  or  at  latest  eleven  o'clock,  one 
of  those  cakes  was  removed,  and  then  they  knew  that  it  was  no  longer 
lawful  to  eat  of  it.  At  twelve  o'clock  the  second  cake  was  removed, 
and  this  was  the  signal  for  solemnly  burning  all  the  leaven  that  had 
been  gathered.  Was  it  on  the  eve  of  the  14th,  when  each  head  of  a 
house  sought  for  and  put  aside  the  leaven,  or  else  as  the  people 
watched  these  two  cakes,  and  then  the  removal  of  the  last  of  them, 
which  marked  that  all  leaven  was  to  be  'purged  out,'  that  Jesus,  in 
real  fulfilment  of  its  national  meaning,  '  cleansed '  the  Temple  of  its 
leaven? 

AVe  can  only  suggest  the   question.     But  the  '  cleansing  of  the 

-  ^t.johnii.   Temple  '  undoubtedly  preceded  the  actual  festive  Paschal  week."    To 

1  Although  our  A.Y.  translates  in  ver.  ^  We  reserve  a  detailed  account  of  the 

18  'sijin'aud  in  ver.   23  '  miracles,' the  Paschal  celebration  for  our  account  of 

Greek  word  is  the  same  in  both  cases,  the  last  Passover  of  Jesus, 
and  moans  a  'sij::n.' 


MIRACLES   OF   CHRIST  AND   CONTEMPORARY  TIIOUCJIIT.  :;V 

those  who  were  in  Jerusalem  it  Avas  a  week  .such  as  had  never  been  chap. 
before,  a  Aveek  Avhen  Hhey  saAv  the  signs  Avhicli  He  did,'  and  when,  V[ 
stirred  by  a  strange  impulse,  '  they  believed  in  llis  Name '  as  the  ^- — ^.^ 
Messiah.  'A  milk-taith,' as  Luther  pithily  calls  it,  Avhich  fed  on,  and 
required  for  its  sustenance,  '  signs,'  And  like  a  vision  it  passed  Avith 
the  thing  seen.  Not  a  faith  to  Avhich  the  sign  was  only  the  fingerpost, 
but  a  faith  of  which  the  sign,  not  the  thing  signified,  was  the  sub- 
stance; a  faith  Avhich  dazzled  the  mental  sight,  but  reached  not  doAvn 
to  the  heart.  And  Jesus,  Who  with  heart-searching  glance  saw  what 
Avasinman,  Who  needed  not  any  to  tell  Him,  but  with  immediateness 
kncAV  all,  did  not  commit  Himself  to  them.  They  Avere  not  like  His 
first  Galilean  disciples,  true  of  heart  and  in  heart.  The  Messiah 
Whom  these  found,  and  He  Whom  those  saw,  met  different  concep- 
tions. The  faith  of  the  Jerusalem  sign-seers  Avould  not  have  compassed 
Avhat  the  Galileans  experienced;  itAvould  not  have  understood  nor 
endured,  had  He  committed  Himself  to  them.  And  yet  He  did,  in 
Avondrous  love,  condesc'end  and  speak  to  them  in  the  only  lan- 
guage they  could  understand,  in  that  of  '  signs. '  Nor  Avas  it  all 
in  A'ain. 

Unrecorded  as  these  miracles  are — because  the  Avords  they  spoke 
were  not  recorded  on  many  hearts — it  was  not  only  here  and  there, 
by  this  or  that  miracle,  that  their  power  Avas  felt.  Their  grand 
general  effect  Avas,  to  make  the  more  spiritually  minded  and  thoughtful 
feel  that  Jesus  Avas  indeed  ^a  teacher  come  from  God.'  In  thinking 
of  the  miracles  of  Jesus,  and  generally  of  the  miraculous  in  the  New 
Testament,  we  are  too  apt  to  overlook  the  principal  consideration  in 
the  matter.  We  regard  it  from  our  present  circumstances,  not  from 
those  of  the  Jews  and  people  of  that  time;  Ave  judge  it  from  our 
standpoint,  not  from  theirs.  And  yet  the  main  gist  of  the  matter 
lies  here.  We  would  not  expect  to  be  convinced  of  the  truth  of 
religion,  nor  converted  to  it,  by  outAvard  miracles;  we  would  not  ex- 
pect them  at  all.  Not  but  that,  if  a  notable  miracle  really  did  occur, 
its  impression  and  effect  would  be  oA^erwhelming;  although,  unless  a 
miracle  submitted  itself  to  the  strictest  scientific  tests,  Avhen  in  the 
nature  of  things  it  would  cease  to  be  a  miracle,  it  Avould  scarcely  find 
general  credence.  Hence,  truth  to  say,  the  miraculous  in  the  Ncav 
Testament  constitutes  to  modern  thought  not  its  strong,  but  its  weak 
point;  not  its  convincing  evidence,  but  its  point  of  attack  and  diflfi- 
culty.  Accordingly,  treating  of,  or  contemplating  the  miracles  of  the 
New  Testament,  it  is  always  their  moral,  not  their  natural  (or  supra- 


380 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  Sanh.  65  6 


'  Baba 
Mez.  59  6 


natural),  aspect  whieli  lias  its  chief  infliienc(3  upon  us.  But  what  is 
tliis  hut  to  say  that  ours  is  modern,  not  ancient  thought,  and  that  the 
evidential  power  of  Christ's  miracles  has  given  place  to  the  age  and 
dispensation  of  the  Holy  Ghost?  With  us  the  process  is  the  reverse 
of  what  it  was  with  them  of  old.  They  approached  the  moral  and 
spiritual  through  the  miraculous;  we  the  miraculous  through  the 
moral  and  spiritual.  His  Presence,  that  one  grand  Presence  is,  indeed, 
ever  the  same.  But  God  always  adapts  His  teaching  to  our  learning; 
else  it  were  not  teaching  at  all,  least  of  all  Divine  teaching.  Only 
what  carries  it  now  to  us  is  not  the  same  as  what  carried  it  to  them 
of  old:  it  is  no  more  the  fingerpost  of  '  signs,'  but  the  finger  of  the 
Spirit.  To  them  the  miraculous  was  the  expected — that  miraculous 
which  to  us  also  is  so  truly  and  Divinely  miraculous,  just  because  it 
applies  to  all  time,  since  it  carries  to  us  the  moral,  as  to  them  the 
physical,  aspect  of  the  miracle;  in  each  case.  Divine  reality  Divinely 
conveyed.  It  may  therefore  safely  be  asserted,  that  to  the  men  of 
that  time  no  teaching  of  the  new  faith  would  have  been  real  without 
the  evidence  of  miracles. 

In  those  days,  when  the  idea  of  the  miraculous  was,  so  to  speak, 
fluid — passing  from  the  .natural  into  the  supernatural — and  men  re- 
garded all  that  was  above  their  view-point  of  nature  as  supernatural, 
the  idea  of  the  miraculous  would,  by  its  constant  recurrence,  always 
and  prominently  suggest  itself.  Other  teachers  also,  among  the  Jews 
at  least,  claimed  the  power  of  doing  miracles,  and  were  popularly 
credited  with  them.  But  what  an  obvious  contrast  between  theirs 
and  the  '  signs  '  which  Jesus  did!  In  thinking  of  this,  it  is  necessary 
to  remember,  that  the  Talmud  and  the  New  Testament  alike  embody 
teaching  Jewish  in  its  form,  and  addressed  to  Jews,  and — at  least  so  far 
as  regards  the  subject  of  miracles — at  periods  not  far  apart,  and  brought 
still  nearer  by  the  singular  theological  conservatism  of  the  people. 
If,  with  this  in  our  minds,  we  recall  some  of  the  absurd  Rabbinic  pre- 
tensions to  miracles — such  as  the  creation  of  a  calf  by  two  Rabbis 
every  Sabbath  eve  for  their  Sabbath  meal,"  or  the  repulsive,  and  in 
part  blasphemous,  account  of  a  series  of  prodigies  in  testimony  of  the 
subtleties  of  some  great  Rabbi" — we  are  almost  overwhelmed  by  the 
evidential  force  of  the  contrast  between  them  and  the  '  signs '  vviiich 
Jesus  did.  We  seem  to  be  in  an  entirely  new  world,  and  we  can 
understand  the  conclusion  at  which  every  earnest  and  thoughtful  mind 
must  have  arrived  in  witnessing  them,  that  He  was,  indeed, '  a  Teacher 
from  God.' 


NICODEMUS.  381 

Such  an  ol)server  was  Nicodeiuus  {Naqdimon),^  one  of  the   Phari-     CHAP. 
sees  and  a  lucuibcr  of  the  Jerusalem  Sanhedriu.     And,  as  we  gather         VI 
I'roni  his    mode  of  cxi)ression,^  not  he    only,  but   others    with  him.    ^ — "r- — ' 
From  the  Gospel-history  we  know  him  to  have  been  cautious  by  na- 
ture and  education,  and  timid  of  character;  yet,  as  in  other  cases, 
it  was  the  greatest  offence  to  his  Jewish  thinking,  the  Cross,  which 
at  last  brought  him  to  the  light  of  decision,  and  the  vigour  of  bold 
confession."     And  this  in  itself  would  show  the  real  character  of  his  »st.  John 

xix.  b9 

inquiry,  and  the  efl'ect  of  what  Jesus  had  first  taiight  him.  It  is,  at 
any  rate,  altogether  rash  to  speak  of  the  manner  ol'his  first  approach 
to  Christ  as  most  commentators  have  done.  We  can  scarcely 
realise  the  difficulties  which  he  had  to  overcome.  It  must  have  been 
a  mighty  power  of  conviction,  to  break  down  prejudice  so  far  as  to 
lead  this  old  Sanhedrist  to  acknowledge  a  Galilean,  untrained  in  the 
Schools,  as  a  Teacher  come  from  God,  and  to  repair  to  Him  for 
direction  on, perhaps,  the  most  delicate  and  important  point  in  Jewish 
theology.  But,  even  so,  we  cannot  wonder  that  he  should  have 
wished  to  shroud  his  first  visit  in  the  utmost  possible  secrecy.  It  was 
a  most  compromising  step  for  a  Sanhedrist  to  take.  With  that  first 
l)old  purgation  of  the  Temple  a  deadly  feud  betw^een  Jesus  and  the 
Jewi'Sh  authorities  had  begun,  of  which  the  sequel  could  not  be 
doubtful.  It  was  involved  in  that  first  encounter  in  the  Temple,  and 
it  needed  not  the  experience  and  wisdom  of  an  aged  Sanhedrist  to 
forecast  the  end. 

Nevertheless,  Nicodemus  came.  If  this  is  evidtuice  of  his  intense 
earnestness,  so  is  the  bearing  of  Jesus  of  His  Divine  Character,  and 
of  the  truth  of  the  narrative.  As  he  was  not  depressed  by  the  re- 
sistance of  the  authorities,  nor  by  the  '  milk-faith '  of  the  multitude, 
so  He  was  not  elated  by  the  possibility  of  making  such  a  convert  as  a 
member  of  the  great  Sanhedrin.  There  is  no  excitement,  no  undue 
deference,  nor  eager  politeness;  no  compromise,  nor  attempted  per- 
suasiveness; not  even  accommodation.  Nor,  on  the  other  hand,  is 
there  assumed  superiority,  irony,  or  dogmatism.  There  is  not  even 
a  reference  to  the  miracles, the  evidential  power  of  which  had  wrought 

'  A  Nicodemus  is  spoken  of  in   tlie  the  Talmud  amon,2;tlie  disciples  of  Jesus, 

Talmud  as  one  of  the  richest  and  most  and  a  story  is  related  how  his  dauf:;hter, 

distiuii'uished  citiseus  of  .Jerusalem  (Taan.  after  immense  wealth,  came  to  nH)st  ab- 

20  r/:'Kethub.  66  b:  Gitt.  56  a;  Ab.  de  ject  poverty.     But  there  can  scarcely  be 

R.  Nath.  6  comp.  Ber.  R.  42.     Midr.  on  a  doubt  that  this  somewhat  leg;endary 

Eccles.  vii.  12,  and  on  Lament,  i.  5).  But  Naqdimon  was  nut  the  Nicodemus  of  the 

this  name  was  only  g:iven  him  on  account  Gospel. 

of  a  miracle  whicli  hajipened  at  his  re-         ^  '  We  know  that  Thou  art  a  Teacher 

([uest,   his  real  name  beiuii'  Biiuai,  the  come  from  God.' 
sou  of  Goriou.    A  Bu)tai  is  mentioned  in 


382  FROM   JORDAN    TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRAX^^FIGURATION. 

BOOK      in  His  visitor  the  initial  convictiiju,  that  He  was  a  Teacher  come  IVom 
III         (to(1.   All  is  calm,  earnest,  dig-nified — if  we  may  reverentl}'  say  it — as 
^•^"^y—^  ])ecame  the  God-Man  in  the  humiliation  of  His  personal  teaching. 
To  say  that  it  is  all  un-Jewish  were  a  mere  truism:  it  is  Divine.     No 
fabricated  narrative  would  have  invented  such  a  scene, nor  so  repre- 
sented the  actors  in  it.^ 

Dangerous  as  it  may  be  to  indulge  the  imagination,  we  can 
almost  picture  the  scene.  The  report  of  what  passed  reads,  more 
than  almost  any  other  in  the  Gospels,  like  notes  taken  at  the  time 
by  one  who  was  present.  We  can  almost  put  it  again  into  the  form 
of  brief  notes,  by  heading  what  each  said  in  this  manner,  Nicode- 
mus:— or,  Jesus:.  They  are  only  the  outlines  of  the  conversation, 
given,  in  each  case,  the  really  important  gist,  and  leaving  .  abrupt 
gaps  between,  as  would  1)0  the  manner  in  such  notes.  Yet  quite 
sufficient  to  tell  us  all  that  is  important  for  us  to  know.  We  can 
scarcely  doubt  that  it  was  the  narrator,  John,  who  was  the  witness 
that  took  the  notes.  His  own  reflections  upon  it,  or  rather  his  after- 
look  upon  it,  in  the  light  of  later  facts,  and  under  the  teaching  of 
the  Holy  Ghost,  is  described  in  the  verses  with  which  the  writer 
follows  his  account  of  what  had  passed  between  Jesus  and  Nico- 
demus  (St.  John  iii.  16-21).  In  the  same  manner  he  winds  up  with 
similar  reflections  (ib.  vv.  31-36)  the  reported  conversation  between 
the  Baptist  and  his  disciples.   In  neither  case  are  the  verses  to  which 

1  This,  of  course,  is  not  the  view  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  since  otherwise  it  were 
Ttibiugeu  School,  which  regards  the  impossible  that,  when  expressly  treating 
whole  of  this  narrative  as  rei)resentiug  a  of  Baptism,  he  should  have  omitted  it. 
later  development.  Dr.  Abbott  (Encycl.  To  us,  on  the  other  hand,  the  oi)posite 
Brit,  Art.  'Gospels,' p.  821)  regards  the  seems  the  legitimate  inference.  Treat- 
expression,  '  born  of  water  and  of  the  ing  confessedly  of  Baptism,  it  was  only 
Spirit,'  as  a  reference  to  Christian  Bap-  necessary  for  his  argument,  which  iden- 
tism,  and  tliis  again  as  evidence  for  the  tified  regeneration  with  Baptism,  to  in- 
late  authorship  of  the  fourth  Gospel,  troduce  the  reference  to  the  Spirit.  Other- 
His  reasoning  is,  that  the  earliest  refer-  wise  the  ([notation  is  so  exactly  that  from 
ence  to  regeneration  is  contained  in  St.  the  fourth  Gospel,  including  even  the  ob- 
Matt.  xviii.  3.  Then  he  supposes  a  re-  jection  of  Nicodemus,  that  it  is  almost 
ference  in  Justiti's  Apologia  (i.  61)  to  be  impossible  to  imagine  that  so  literal  a 
&  further  development  of  this  doctrine,  transcription  could  have  originated  other- 
and  he  denies  what  is  generally  regarded  wise  than  from  the  fourth  Gospel  itself, 
as  Justin's  quotation  from  St.  John  iii.  .5  and  that  it  is  the  result  of  a  supposed 
to  be  such,  because  it  omits  the  word  series  of  developments  in  which  Justin 
'water.'  A  third  stage  he  su|)poses  to  would  represent  the  second,  and  the 
be  implied  in  1  Pet.  i.  3,  23;  with  which  fourth  Gospel  the  fourth  stage.  But 
he  connects  1  Pet.  iii.  21.  The  fourth  besides,  the  attentive  reader  of  the  chap- 
stage  of  development  he  regards  as  em-  ter  in  Justin's  Apologj'  cannot  fail  to  re- 
bodied  in  the  words  of  St.  John  iii.  5.  mark  that  Justin  represents  a  hder,  and 
All  these  hypotheses — for  they  are  no  not  an  earlier,  stage  than  tlie  fourth 
more  than  such — are  built  on  Justin's  Gospel.  For,  with  Justin,  Bai>tism  and 
omission  of  tlie  word  '  water,'  which,  as  regeneration  are  manifestly  identified. 
Dr.  Aljbott  argues,  i)roves  that  Justin  not  with  renovation  of  our  nature,  but 
nuist  have  been  unacquainted  with  the  with  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 


iii.  8 


THE   INTERVIEW    IN   THE   'UPPER   CIIAMlJKi;.'  333 

\vc  refer,  part  of  what  citlier  Jesus  or  John  said  at  the  time,  but  wluit, 
in  view  of  it,  John  says  in  name  of,  and  to  the  Cliiii'ch  of  tlie  New 
Testament.^ 

If  from  8t.  John  xix.  27  we  mi^iAiit  infer  that  St.  John  had  'a 
home'  in.Ierusalem  itself — whieh,  considering-  the  siniplieity  of  living 
at  the  tiuK^,  and  the  cost  of  houses,  would  not  necessarily  imply  that 
he  was  rich — the  scene  about  to  be  described  would  have  taken  jjlace 
under  the  roof  of  him  who  has  given  us  its  record.  In  any  case,  the 
circumstances  of  life  at  the  time  are  so  well  known,  that  we  have  no 
difficulty  in  realising  the  surroundings.  It  was-  night — one  of  the 
nights  in  that  Easter  week  so  full  of  marvels.  Perhaps  v/e  may  be 
allowed  to  suppose  that,  as  so  often  in  analogous  circumstances,  the 
spring-wind,  sweeping  up  the  narrow  streets  of  the  City,  had  suggested 
the  comparison, ''Mvhich  was  so  full  of  deepest  teaching  to  Nicodemus.  »st.  John 
Up  in  the  simply  furnished  AH  yah — the  guest-chamber  on  the  roof 
— the  lamp  w^as  still  burning,  and  the  Heavenly  Guest  still  busy  with 
thought  and  words.  There  was  no  need  for  Nicodemus  to  pass  through 
the  house,  for  an  outside  stair  led  to  the  upper  room.  It  was  night, 
when  Jewish  superstition  would  keep  men  at  home;  a  wild,  gusty 
spring  night,  when  loiterers  would  not  be  in  the  streets;  and  no  one 
would  sec  him  as  at  that  hour  he  ascended  the  outside  steps  that  led 
u})  to  the  Aliyali.  His  errand  was  soon  told:  one  sentence,  that  which 
admitted  the  Divine  Teachership  of  Jesus,  implied  all  the  (juestions 
he  could  wish  to  ask.  Nay,  his  very  presence  there  spoke  them. 
Or,  if  otherwise,  the  answer  of  Jesus  spoke  them.  Throughout, 
Jesus  never  descended  to  the  standpoint  of  Nicodemus,  but  rather 
sought  to  lift  him  to  His  own.  It  was  all  about  '  the  Kingdom  of 
God,'  ^  so  connected  with  that  Teacher  come  from  God,  that  Nicodemus 
would  inquire. 

And  yet,  though  Christ  never  descended  to  the  standpoint  of 
Nicodemus,  we  must  bear  in  mind  what  his  vieAvs  as  a  Jew  would  be, 
if  we  would  understand  the  interview.  Jesus  took  him  straight  to 
whence  alone  that  '  Kingdom '  could  be  seen.  '■  Except  a  man  be 
born  from  above,*  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God.'     It  has  been 

1  For  detailed  examination  and  proof  Gospel.     Otherwise  the  expression  'My 

I   must  here  refer  the  reader  to  Canon  Kiniidom '  is  used  in  xviii.  3(i.     This  ex- 

WestcotCs  Commentary.  ceptional  use  of  the  Synoptic  term,  '  King- 

-  I    cannot    a.iiTee    with    Archdeacon  domofGod.'is  noteworthy  in  this  con- 

Wiitkfus,    who    would    render   it,  'The  nectlon,  and  not  without  its  imi)ortant 

Spirit  breathes' — an  opinion,  so  far  as  I  bearing:  on  the  question  of  the  authorship 

know,  unsupported,  and  which  seems  to  of  tiie  fourtli  Gosjiel. 

me  ill-accordant  with  the  whole  context.  ■•  Notwithstandin<2;  the  hiii-li  aulliority 

^  The  expression,  'King'dom  of  God,'  of  Professor  Wesfcott,  I  must  still  hold 

occurs  only  in  iii.  3  and  iii.  5  of  the  fourth  that  this,  and  now  'anew,'  is  the  right 


384 


Fi;().M    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  Yebam. 


tlioiiiiiit  by  (•oiiiiiK'ntaloi's,  that  there  is  here  an  allusion  to  a  Jewish 
mode  of  expression  in  regard  to  proselytes,  who  were  viewed  as 
'  new-born.'  But  in  that  case  Nicodemus  would  have  understood  it, 
and  answered  differently — or,  rather,  not  expressed  his  utter  inability 
to  understand  it.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that  a  Gentile  on  becoming  a 
proselyte — though  not,  as  has  been  suggested,  an  ordinary  penitent^ 
— was  likened  to  a  child  just  born.''  It  is  also  true,  that  persons  in 
certain  circumstances — the  bridegroom  on  his  marriage,  the  Chief  of 
the  Academy  on  his  promotion,  the  king  on  his  enthronement — 
'Yaikuton  wcrc  Hkcncd  to  those  newly  born.''  The  expression,  therefore,  w^as 
not  only  common,  but,  so  to  speak,  fluid;  only,  both  it  and  what  it 
implied  must  be  rightly  understood.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  only  a 
simile,  and  never  meant  to  convey  a  real  regeneration  (Uis  a  child'). 
So  far  as  proselytes  were  concerned,  it  meant  that,  having  entered  into 
a  new  relation  to  God,  they  also  entered  into  new  relationship  to  man, 
just  as  if  they  had  at  that  moment  been  newly  born.  All  the  old 
relations  had  ceased — a  man's  father,  brother,  mother,  sister  were  no 
longer  his  nearest  of  kin:  he  was  a  new  and  another  man.  Then, 
secondly,  °  it  implied  a  new  state,  when  all  a  man's  past  was  past,  and 
his  sins  forgiven  him  as  belonging  to  that  past.  It  will  now  be 
perceived,  how  impossible  it  was  for  Nicodemus  to  understand  the 
teaching  of  Jesus,  and  yet  how  all-important  to  him  was  that  teaching. 
For,  even  if  he  could  have  imagined  that  Jesus  pointed  to  repentance, 
as  that  which  would  give  him  the  figurative  standing  of  '  born  from 
above,'  or  even  'born  anew,'  it  would  not  have  helped  him.  For, 
first,  this  second  birth  was  only  a  simile.  Secondly,  according  to 
the  Jewish  view,  this  second  birth  was  the  consequence  of  having 
taken  upon  oneself  'the  Kingdom;'  not,  as  Jesus  put  it,  the  cause 
and  condition  of  it.  The  proselyte  had  taken  upon  himself  '  the 
Kingdom,'  and  therefore  he  w^as   'born'  anew,  while  Jesus  put  it 


1  As  in 

I'alkut 


reiiderinii;.  The  word  ccvgoBev  has  always 
the  meaning  '  above '  in  the  fourth  Gos- 
pel (ch.  ill.  3,  7,  31;  xix.  11,  23);  and 
otherwise  also  St.  .John  always  speaks  of 
'  a  birth '  from  God  (St.  John  i.  13 ;  1  John 
ii.  29;  ili.  9;  iv.  7;  v.  1.  4,  18). 

1  This  is  at  least  imiilied  by  Wilnsche, 
and  taken  for  jjranted  by  others.  But 
ancient  Jewish  tradition  and  the  Talmud 
do  not  speak  of  it.  Comp.  Yebam.  22  a, 
62  a ;  97  a  and  6;  Beklior.  47  a.  Proselytes 
arc  always  spoken  of  as  '  new  creatures,' 
Ber.  R.  39,  ed.  Warsh.  p.  72  a:  Remidb. 
R.  11.  In  Vayyikra  R.  30,  Ps.  cii.  18,  '  the 
people  that  sliall  be  created'  is  explained : 


'  For  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  His  Name, 
will  create  tliem  a  new  creature.'  In 
Yalkut  on  Jud^.  vi.  1  (vol.  ii.  p.  10  c, 
about  the  middle)  this  new  creation  is 
connected  with  the  forgiveness  of  sins, 
it  being  maintained  tliat  whoever  has  a 
miracle  done,  and  i^raises  God  for  it,  his 
sins  are  forgiven,  and  he  is  made  a  new 
creature.  This  is  illustrated  by  the  his- 
tory of  Israel  at  the  Red  Sea,  by  that  of 
Deborah  and  Barak,  and  by  that  of 
David.  In  Shem.  R.  3  (ed.  Warsh.  ii.  )). 
11  r/)  the  words  Ex.  iv.  12,  'teach  tlieo  wliat 
thou  shalt  say, '  are  explained  as  e(iui  valont 
to  'I  will  create  thee  a  new  creation.' 


'EXCEPT  A  MAN  BE  BORN  FROM  ABOVE.'  335 

that  he  must  be  l)()rii  again  in  order  to  see  the  Kingdom  of  God.      CHAP, 
Lastly,  it  was  '  a  birtli  Iroui  above'  to  whieh  ret'ereuee  was   made.         VI 
Judaism  eould  understand  a  new  reUitionship  towards  God  and  man,    ^— ^r^— ^ 
and  even  the  forgiveness  of  sins.       But  it  had  no  eonception  of  a 
moral  renovation,  a  spiritual  birth,  as  the  initial  condition  for  reforma- 
tion, far  less  as  that  for  seeing  the  Kingdom  of  God.     And  it  was 
because  it  had  no  idea  of  such  '  birth  from  above, '  of  its  reality  or 
even  possibility,  that  Judaism  could  not  be  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

Or,  to  take  another  view  of  it,  for  Divine  truth  is  many-sided — 
perhaps  some  would  say,  to  make  '  Western '  application  of  what 
was  first  spoken  to  the  Jew — in  one  respect  Nicodemus  and  Jesus 
had  started  from  the  same  premiss:  Tlie  Kingdom  of  God.  But 
how  different  were  their  conceptions  of  what  constituted  that  King- 
dom, and  of  what  was  its  door  of  entrance!  What  Nicodemus  had 
seen  of  Jesus  had  not  only  shaken  the  confidence  wdiich  his  former 
views  on  these  subjects  had  engendered  in  him,  but  opened  dim 
possibilities,  the  very  suggestion  of  wiiich  filled  him  with  uneasiness 
as  to  the  past,  and  vague  hopes  as  to  the  future.  iVnd  so  it  ever  is 
with  us  also,  when,  like  Nicodemus,  we  first  arrive  at  the  conviction 
that  Jesus  is  the  Teacher  come  from  God.  What  He  teaches  is  so 
entirely  different  from  what  Nicodemus,  or  any  of  us  could,  from  any 
other  standpoint  than  that  of  Jesus,  have  learned  or  known  concerning 
the  Kingdom  and  entrance  into  it.  The  admission,  however  reached, 
of  the  Divine  Mission  of  this  Teacher,  implies,  unspoken,  the  grand 
question  about  the  Kingdom.  It  is  the  opening  of  the  door  through 
which  the  Grand  Presence  will  enter  in.  To  such  a  man,  as  to  us  in 
like  unspoken  questioning,  Jesus  ever  has  but  one  thing  to  say: 
'  Except  a  man  be  born  from  above,  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of 
God.'  The  Kingdom  is  other,  the  entrance  to  it  is  other,  than  you  know 
or  think.  That  wdiich  is  of  the  flesh  is  flesh.  Man  may  rise  to  high 
possibilities — mental,  even  moral:  self-development,  self-improvement, 
self-restraint,  submission  to  a  grand  idea  or  a  higher  law,  refined 
moral  egotism,  assthetic  even  moral  altruism.  But  to  see  the  Kingdom 
of  God:  to  understand  what  means  the  absolute  rule  of  God,  the  one 
high  calling  of  our  humanity,  by  which  a  man  becomes  a  child  of 
God — to  perceive  this,  not  as  an  improvement  upon  our  present 
state,  but  as  the  submission  of  heart,  mind,  and  life  to  Him  as  our 
Divine  King,  an  existence  which  is,  and  which  means,  proclaiming 
unto  the  world  the  Kingship  of  God:  this  can  only  be  learned  from 
Christ,  and  needs  even  for  its  perception  a  kinship  of  spirit — for  that 
which  is  born  of  the  Spirit  is  spirit.     To  see  it,  needs  the  birth  from 


386  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   xMOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      above;  to  enter  it,  the  double  baptismal  birth  ot"  what  John's  Baptism 
ni        had  meant,  and  of  what  Christ's  Baptism  was. 

^— '^r'""^  According'ly,  all  tiiis  sounded  quite  strange  and  unintelligible  to 
Nicodemus.  He  could  understand  how  a  man  might  become  other, 
and  so  ultimately  he  other;  but  how  a  man  could  tirst  he  other  in 
order  to  become  other — more  than  that,  needed  to  be  '  born  from 
above,'  in  order  to  'see  the  Kingdom  of  God' — passed  alike  his 
experience  and  his  Jewish  learning.  Only  one  possibility  of  being 
occurred  to  him:  that  given  him  in  his  natural  disposition,  or  as  a  Jew 
would  have  put  it,  in  his  original  iunocency  when  he  first  entered 

"ver.  4  the  world.  And  this— so  to  express  ourselves — he  thought  aloud.'' 
But  there  was  another  world  of  being  than  that  of  which  Xicodemus 
thought.  That  world  was  the  '  Kingdom  of  God  '  in  its  essential  con- 
trariety to  the  kingdom  of  this  world,  whether  in  the  general  sense 
of  that  expression,  or  even  in  the  special  Judaistic  sense  attaching  to 
the  '  Kingdom '  of  the  Messiah.  There  was  only  one  gate  by  which 
a  man  could  pass  into  that  Kingdom  of  God — for  that  which  was 
of  the  flesh  could  ever  be  only  flcshlj-.  Here  a  man  might  strive, 
as  did  the  Jews,  by  outward  conformity  to  become,  but  he  would  never 
attain  to  being.  But  -that  '  Kingdom  '  was  spiritual,  and  here  a  man 
must  be  in  order  to  become.  How  was  he  to  attain  that  new  being? 
The  Baptist  had  pointed  it  out  in  its  negative  aspect  of  repentance 
and  putting  away  the  old  by  his  Baptism  of  water;  and  as  regarded 
its  positive  aspect  he  had  pointed  to  Him  Who  was  to  baptize  with 
the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire.  This  was  the  gate  of  being  through 
which  a  man  must  enter  into  the  Kingdom,  which  was  of  the  Messiah, 
because  it  was  of  God  and  the  Messiah  was  of  God,  and  in  that  sense 
'  the  Teacher  come  from  God ' — that  is,  being  sent  of  God,  He  taught 
of  God  by  bringing  to  God.  This  but  a  few  who  had  gone  to  the 
Baptist  had  perceived,  or  indeed  could  perceive,  because  the  Baptist 
could  in  his  Baptism  only  convey  the  negative,  not  the  positive,  aspect 
of  it.  And  it  needed  that  positive  aspect — the  being  born  from 
above — in  order  to  see  the  Kingdom  of  God.  But  as  to  the  mystery 
of  this  being  in  order  to  become — hark!  did  he  hear  the  sound  of  that 
wind  as  it  swept  past  the  AWjaJi?  He  heard  its  voice;  but  he 
neither  knew  whence  it  came,  nor  whither  it  went.  So  was  every 
one  that  was  born  of  the  Spirit.  You  heard  the  voice  of  the  Spirit 
"Who  originated  the  new  being,  but  the  origination  of  that  new  being, 
or  its  further  development  into  all  that  it  might  and  would  become, 
lay  beyond  man's  observation. 

Nicodemus  now  understood  in  pome  measure  ivhat  entrance  into 


•HOW   CAN   THESE    THINGS   BE  ? '  38*7 

the  Kingdom  meant;  but  its  lioio  seinned  only  involved  in  greater  CHAr. 
mystery.  That  it  was  such  a  mystery,  untiioiiiiht  and  unimagined  ^'i 
in  Jewish  theology,  was  a  terribly  sad  manifestation  of  what  the  "— ^r — ' 
teaching  in  Israel  was.  Yet  it  had  all  been  told  them,  as  of  personal 
knowledge,  by  the  Baptist  and  l)y  Jesus;  nay,  if  they  could  only  have 
received  it,  by  the  whole  Old  Testament.  He  wanted  to  know  the 
hoiv  of  these  things  before  lie  l)elieved  them.  He  believed  them 
not,  though  they  passed  on  earth,  because  lie  knew  not  their  lioiv. 
How  then  could  he  believe  that  lioiv,  of  which  the  agency  was 
unseen  and  in  heaven?  To  that  spring  of  being  no  one  could  ascend 
but  He  that  had  come  down  from  heaven,^  and  Who,  to  bring  to  us 
that  spring  of  being,  had  appeared  as  'the  Son  of  Man,'  the  Ideal 
Man,  the  embodiment  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  and  thus  the  only 
true  Teacher  come  from  God.  Or  did  Nicodcmus  think  of  another 
Teacher — hitherto  their  only  Teacher,  Moses — whom  Jewish  tradi- 
tion generally  believed  to  have  ascended  into  the  very  heavens,  in  oi'der 
to  bring  the  teaching  unto  them?-  Let  the  history  of  Moses,  then, 
teach  them!  They  thought  they  understood  his  teaching,  but  there 
was  one  symbol  in  his  history  before  which  tradition  literally  stood 
dumb.  They  had  heard  what  Moses  had  taught  them;  they  had 
seen  Hhe  earthly  things'  of  God  in  the  Manna  which  had  rained 
from  heaven — and,  in  view  and  hearing  of  it  all,  they  had  not  lielieved, 
but  murmured  and  rebelled.  Then  came  the  judgment  of  the  fiery 
serpents,  and,  in  answer  to  repentant  prayer,  the  symbol  of  new 
bei7ig,  a  life  restored  from  death,  as  they  looked  on  their  no  longer 
living  but  dead  death  lifted  up  before  them.  A  symlwl  this,  showing 
forth  two  elements:  negatively,  the  putting  away  of  the  past  in  their 
dead  death  (the  serpent  no  longer  living,  but  a  brazen  serpent) ;  and 
positively,  in  their  look  of  faith  and  hope.  Before  this  symbol,  as  has 
been  said,  tradition  has  stood  dumb.  It  could  only  suggest  one 
meaning,  and  draw  from  it  one  lesson.  Both  these  were  true,  and 
yet  both  insuflicient.  The  meaning  which  tradition  attached  to  it 
was,  that  Israel  lifted  up  their  eyes,  not  merely  to  the  serpent,  but 
rather  to  their  Father  in  heaven,  and  had  regard  to  His  mercy, 
This,^  as  St.  John  afterwards  shows  (ver.  16),  was  a  true  interpreta- 

1  The  clause  'Who  is  m  heaven'  is  re-  been  rapt  in  spirit  to  lieaven.  fConi]). 'The 

yarded,  on  critical  grounds,  as  a  gloss.  History  and  Development  of  Sociniau- 

But.  even  so,  it  seems  almost  a  necessary  ism,'  in  the  North.  Brit.  Rev.  May  lSo9.) 

fj;loss,  in  view  of  tlie  Jewish  notions  about  -  Tliis  in  many  phaces.  Conip.,  for  ex., 

the  ascent  of  Moses  into  heaven.    Strange  Jer.  Targ.  on   i)eut.  xxx.   12,    and  the 

to  say,  the  passage  referred  to  forced  So-  sliocking     notice     in     Bemid.     K.     19. 

ci^;?/.';  to  the  curious  dogma  that  before  the  Anotlier  view,  liowever,  Sul<k.  f)  a. 

commencement  of  His  ministry  Jesus  had  ■'  So  already  in  Wisdom  of   Solomon 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"Yalkut, 
VOL  1.  p.  240 


tiou;  but  it  left  wholly  out  of  sight  the  Antitype,  in  gazing  on  Whom 
our  hearts  are  uplifted  to  the  love  of  God,  Who  gave  His  ouly-l)egot- 
tcn  Son,  and  we-  learn  to  know  and  love  the  Father  in  His  Sou.  And 
the  lesson  which  tradition  drew  from  it  was,  that  this  symbol  taught, 
the  dead  would  live  again;  for,  as  it  is  argued,^  'behold,  if  God 
made  it  that,  through  the  similitude  of  the  serpent  which  brought 
death,  the  dying  should  be  restored  to  life,  how  much  more  shall  He, 
Who  is  Life,  restore  the  dead  to  life.'  And  here  lies  the  true  in- 
terpretation of  what  Jesus  taught.  If  the  uplifted  serpent,  as  symbol, 
brought  life  to  the  believing  look  which  was  fixed  upon  the  giving, 
pardoning  love  of  God,  then,  in  the  truest  sense,  shall  the  uplifted 
Son  of  Man  give  true  life  to  everyone  that  believeth,  looking  up  in 
Him  to  the  giving  and  forgiving  love  of  God,  which  His  Son  came  to 
bring,  to  declare,  and  to  manifest.  'For  as  Moses  lifted  up  the 
serpent  in  the  wilderness,  so  must  the  Son  of  Man  be  lifted  up,  that 
whosoever  believeth  should  in  Him  have  eternal  life.'  ^ 

With  this  final  and  highest  teaching,  which  contains  all  that 
Nicodemus,  or,  indeed,  the  whole  Church,  could  require  or  be  able  to 
know,  He  explained  to  him  and  to  us  the  lioio  of  the  new  birth — alike 
the  source  and  the  flow  of  its  spring.  Ours  it  is  now  only  to  '  believe,' 
where  w^e  cannot  further  know,  and,  looking  up  to  the  Son  of  Man  in 
His  perfected  work,  to  perceive,  and  to  receive  the  gift  of  God's  love 
for  our  healing.  In  this  teaching  it  is  not  the  serpent  and  the  Son 
of  Man  that  are  held  side  by  side,  though  we  cannot  fail  to  see  the 
symbolic  reference  of  the  one  to  the  other,  but  the  uplifting  of  the 
one  and  the  other — the  one  by  the  sin,  the  other  through  the  sin  of 
the  people:  l)oth  on  account  of  it — the  forthgoing  of  God's  pardoning 
mercy,  the  look  of  faith,  and  the  higher  recognition  of  God's  love  in 
it  all. 

And  so  the  record  of  this  interview  abruptly  closes.  It  tells  all, 
but  no  more  than  the  Church  requires  to  know.  Of  Nicodemus  we 
shall  hear  again  in  the  sequel,  not  needlessly,  nor  yet  to  complete 


xvi.  7 ;  still  more  clearl.y  in  the  Tarji;um 
Prieudo-Jonathau  on  Numb.  xxi.  8,  9: 
'  He  who  lifted  up  his  heart  to  the  name 
of  the  Memra  of  .Telioval),  lived;'  and  in 
tlie  Jerusalem  Tar,ii;um  on  the  passage: 
'  And  Moses  made  a  serpent  of  lirass,  and 
set  it  on  a  place  aloft  [of  uplifting]  {tale 
— the  same  term,  curiously,  which  is 
api)lied  by  the  Jews  to  Christ  as  the  '  Up- 
lifted '  or  '  Crucified  '  One).  And  it  was 
that  every  one  that  was  bitten  with  the 
serpent,  and  lifted  his  face  in  ])i'ay(M'  (the 


word  implies  humbled  prayer)  unto  His 
Father  Wlio  is  in  heaven,  and  looked 
unto  tlie  l)razen  serpent,  he  was  healed.' 
Similarly  Rosli  haSh  ill.  8.  Buxtorf's 
learned  tractate  on  the  Brazen  Serpent 
(Exercitationes,  pp.  458-492)  adds  little 
to  our  knowledge. 

1  This  seems  the  correct  reading. 
Conip.  Canon  Westcott's  note  on  the 
passage,  and  in  general  his  most  full 
and  thorough  criticism  of  the  various 
readings  in  this  chapter. 


ST.  JOHN'S   RETROSPECT.  3^9 

a  biography,  were  it  even  that  of"  Jesus;  but  as  is  necessar}^  for  the      CIIAP. 
uiKhjrstandiug  of  this  History.     What  follows"  are  not  the  words  of        vi 
Christ,  but  of  St.  John.     In  them,  looking  back  many  years  after-  ^— ~y- — • 
wards  in  the  light  of  completed  events,  the  Ai)ostle  takes  his  stand,    "  st.  John 
as  becomes  the  circumstances,  where  Jesus  had  ended  His  teaching 
of  Nicodemus — under  the  Cross.      In  the  Gift,   unutterable  in  its 
preciousness,  he  now  sees  tlie  Giver  and  the  Source  of  all.''     Then,   "ver.  le 
following  that  teaching  of  Jesus  backward,  he  sees  how  true  it  has 
proved  concerning  the  world,  that '  that  which  is. of  the  flesh  is  flesh; ' 
how  true,  also,  concerning  the  Spirit-born,  and  what  need  there  is  to 
us  of  '  this  birth  from  above. ' 

But  to  all  time,  through  the  gusty  night  of  our  world's  early 
spring,  flashes,  as  the  lamp  in  that  Aliyah  through  the  darkened 
streets  of  silent  Jerusalem,  that  light;  sounds  through  its  stillness, 
like  the  Yoice  of  the  Teacher  come  from  God,  this  eternal  Gospel- 
message  to  us  and  to  all  men:  •  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  He  gave 
His  only-begotten  Son,  that  whosoever  believeth  in  Him  should  not 
perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.' 


390 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT  OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER   YII. 


BOOK 
HI 


=  St.  Jotin 
iii.  22 


^  St.  Jolin 
vi.  2 


<;  St.  .John 
iv.  1 


■i  Rom.  iv.  3 


IN  JUD.EA  AND  THROUGH  SAMARIA — A  SKETCH  OF  SAMARITAN  HISTORY 
AND  THEOLOGY — JEWS  AND  SAMARITANS. 

(St.  John  iv.  1-4.) 

We  have  no  means  of  determining  how  long  Jesus  may  have 
tarried  in  Jerusalem  after  the  events  recorded  in  the  previous  two 
chapters.  The  Evangelic  narrative "  only  marks  an  indefinite  period 
of  time,  which,  as  we  judge  from  internal  probability,  cannot  have 
been  protracted.  From  the  city  He  retired  with  His  disciples  to  '  the 
country,'  which  formed  the  province  of  Judsea.  There  He  taught, 
and  His  disciples  baptized."^  From  what  had  been  so  lately  wit- 
nessed in  Jerusalem,  as  well  as  from  what  must  have  been  known  as 
to  the  previous  testimony  of  the  Baptist  concerning  Him,  the  number 
of  those  who  professed  adhesion  to  the  expected  new  Kingdom,  and 
were  consequently  baptized,  was  as  large,  in  that  locality,  as  had 
submitted  to  the  preaching  and  Baptism  of  John— perhaps  even 
larger.  An  exaggerated  report  Avas  carried  to  the  Pharisaic  authori- 
ties:^ 'Jesus  maketh  and  baptizeth  more  disciples  than  John.'" 
From  which,  at  least,  we  infer,  that  the  opposition  of  the  leaders  of 
the  party  to  the  Baptist  was  now  settled,  and  that  it  extended  to 
Jesus;  and  also,  what  careful  watch  they  kept  over  the  new  move- 
ment. 

But  what  seems  at  first  sight  strange  is  the  twofold  circumstance, 
that  Jesus  should  for  a  tiuie  have  established  Himself  in  such  appa- 
rently close  proximity  to  the  Baptist,  and  that  on  this  occasion,  and 
on  this  only.  He  should  have  allowed  His  disciples  to  admiuister  the 
rite  of  Baptism.  That  the  latter  must  not  Ije  confounded  with 
Christian  Baptism,  which  was  only  introduced  after  the  Death  of 
Cln'ist,''  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  after  the  outpouring  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  needs  no  special  explanation.     But  our  difficulties  only 


'  Tlie  Baptism  of  preparation  for  the 
Kiiii;;(l()m  could  not  have  been  admuiit*- 
tereil  by  Hlni  Who  opened  the  Kingdom 
of  Heaven. 


-  The  Evangelist  reports  the  message 
which  was  brouglit  to  the  Pharisees  in 
the  very  words  in  whicli  it  was  delivered. 


111.  20 


THE   ZEAL   OF  JOHN'S    DLSCH'LES   FOR   THEIR   MASTER.  39I 

increase,  as  we  remember  the  essential   diUerence   between   them,      chap. 

grounded  on  that  between  the  Mission  of  John  and  tlie  Teaching        ^'H 

of  Jesus.     In  the  former,  the  Baptism  of  repentant  preparation  for  " — ^r — ^ 

the  coming  Kingdom  had  its  deepest  meaning;  not  so  in  presence 

of  that  Kingdom  itself,  and  in  the  teaching  of  its  King.     But,  even 

were  it  otherwise,  the  administration  of  the  same  rite  by  John  and 

by  the  disciples  of  Jesus  in  apparently  close  proximity,  seems  not 

only  unnecessary,  but  it  might  give  rise  to  misconception  on  the  part 

of  enemies,  and  misunderstanding  or  jealousy  on  the  part  of  weak 

disciples. 

Such  was  actually  the  case  when,  on  one  occasion,  a  discussion 
arose  'on  the  part  of  John's  disciples  with  a  Jew,'  ^  on  the  sulyect 
of  purification.*  We  know  not  the  special  point  in  dispute,  nor  »  st.  John 
does  it  seem  of  much  importance,  since  such  'questions'  would 
naturally  suggest  themselves  to  a  caviller  or  opponent  ^  who  en- 
countered those  who  were  administering  Baptism.  What  really 
interests  us  is,  that  somehow  this  Jewish  objector  must  have  con- 
nected what  he  said  with  a  reference  to  the  Baptism  of  Jesus' 
disciples.  For,  immediately^  afterwards,  the  disciples  of  John,  in  their 
sore  zeal  for  the  honour  of  their  master,  brought  him  tidings,  in  the 
language  of  doubt,  if  not  of  complaint,  of  what  to  them  seemed 
interference  with  the  work  of  the  Baptist,  and  almost  presumption  on 
the  part  of  Jesus.  While  fully  alive  to  their  grievous  error,  perhaps 
in  proportion  as  we  are  so,  we  cannot  but  honour  and  sympathise 
with  this  loving  care  for  their  master.  The  toilsome  mission  of 
the  great  Ascetic  was  drawing  to  its  close,  and  that  without  any 
tangible  success  so  far  as  he  was  concerned.  Yet,  to  souls  susceptible 
of  the  higher,  to  see  him  would  bo  to  be  arrested;  to  hear  him,  to  be 
convinced;  to  know,  would  be  to  love  and  venerate  him.  Xever  before 
had  such  deep  earnestness  and  reality  been  witnessed,  such  devoted- 
ness,  such  humility  and  self-abnegation,  and  all  in  that  great  cause 
which  set  every  Jewish  heart  on  fire.  And  then,  in  the  high-day 
of  his  power,  when  all  men  had  gathered  around  him  and  hung  on 
his  lips;  when  all  wondered  whether  he  would  announce  himself  as  the 
Christ,  or,  at  least,  as  His  Forerunner,  or  as  one  of  the  great  Prophets; 
when  a  word  from  him  would  have  kindled  that  multitude  into  a 

1  This,  and  not  'the  Jews,'  is  the  bet-  in  the  other  too  lii.<;h.    In  either  case  the 

ter  reading.  siil)j(>ct  in  dispute  would  not  be  baptisms, 

-  Probably  the   discussion   orii^inated  but  the, iieneral subject  of /*'//'/;/ert//o;^s — 

with  John's  disciples — the  objector  being  a  sul)ject  of  such  wide  range  in  Jewisli 

a  Jew  or  a  professing  disciple  of  Christ,  theology,  that  one  of  the  six  sections  into 

who  deprecated  their  views.     In  the  one  wliicii  the  Mishnali  or  tratlitional  Law  is 

case  they  would  in  his  opinion  be  too  low ;  divided,  is  specially  devoted  to  it. 


392  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  frcuzy  of  cutliusiasm — he  had  disclaimed  everything  for  himself,  and 
III  pointed  to  Another!  But  this  'Coming  One,'  to  whom  he  had  borne 
"— ^Y- — '  witness,  had  hitherto  been  quite  other  than  their  Master.  And,  as  if 
this  had  not  been  enough,  the  multitudes,  which  had  formerly  come 
to  John,  now  flocked  around  Jesus;  nay,  He  had  even  usurped  the  one 
distinctive  function  still  left  to  their  master,  humble  as  it  was.  It  was 
evident  that,  hated  and  watched  by  the  Pharisees;  watched,  also,  l)y 
the  ruthless  jealousy  of  a  Herod;  overlooked,  if  not  supplanted,  by 
Jesus,  the  mission  of  their  master  was  nearing  its  close.  It  had 
been  a  life  and  work  of  suffering  and  self-denial;  it  was  about  to  end 
in  loneliness  and  sorrow.  They  said  nothing  expresslj"  to  complain 
of  Him  to  Whom  John  had  borne  witness,  but  they  told  of  what  He 
did,  and  how  all  men  came  to  Him. 

The  answer  which  the  Baptist  made,  may  be  said  to  mark  the 
high  point  of  his  life  and  witness.  Never  before  was  he  so  tender, 
almost  sad;  never  before  more  humble  and  self-denying,  more  earnest 
and  faithful.  The  setting  of  his  own  life-sun  was  to  be  the  rising 
of  One  infinitely  more  bright;  the  end  of  his  Mission  the  begin- 
ning of  another  far  higher.  In  the  silence,  which  was  now  gathering 
around  him,  he  heard  but  one  Voice,  that  of  the  Bridegroom,  and  he 
rejoiced  in  it,  though  he  must  listen  to  it  in  stillness  and  loneliness. 
For  it  he  had  waited  and  worked.  Not  his  own,  but  this  had  he 
sought.  And  now  that  it  had  come,  he  was  content;  more  than  con- 
tent: his  'joy  was  now  fulfilled.'  'He  must  increase,  but  I  must 
decrease.'  It  was  the  right  and  good  order.  With  these  as  his  last 
words  publicly  spoken,^  this  Aaron  of  the  New  Testament  unrobed 
himself  ere  he  lay  down  to  die.  Surely  among  those  born  of  women 
there  was  not  one  greater  than  John. 

That  these  were  his  last  words,  pul)licly  spoken  and  recorded, 
may,  however,  explain  to  us  why  on  this  exceptional  occasion  Jesus 
sanctioned  the  administration  by  His  disciples  of  the  Baptism  of  John. 
It  was  not  a  retrogression  from  the  position  He  had  taken  in 
Jerusalem,  nor  caused  by  the  refusal  of  His  Messianic  claims  in  the 
Temple."*  There  is  no  retrogression,  only  progression,  in  the  Life  of 
Jesus.  And  yet  it  was  only  on  this  occasion  that  the  rite  was 
administered  under  His  sanction.  But  the  circumstances  were  ex- 
ceptional. It  was  John's  last  testimony  to  Jesus,  and  it  was  preceded 
by  this  testimony  of  Jesus  to  John.  Far  divergent,  almost  opposite, 
as  from  the  first  their  paths  had  been,  this  practical  sancti(m  on  the 

1  The  next  event  was  John's  impris-  -  This  strange  suggestion  is  made  by 

onment  I)}'  Herod.  Godef. 


CHRIST'S   TESTIMONY   TO   THE   BAPTIST. 


393 


part  of  Jesus  of  Johirs  l)ai)tisiii,  when  the  JJaptist  was  aljout  to 
be  forsaken,  betrayed,  and  murdered,  was  Christ's  highest  testimony 
to  him,  Jesus  adopted  his  Baptism,  ere  its  waters  for  ever  ceased  to 
flow,  and  thus  He  blessed  and  consecrated  them.  He  took  up  the 
work  of  His  Forerunner,  and  continued  it.  The  ])aptismal  rite  of 
John  administered  with  the  sanction  of  Jesus,  was  the  highest  witness 
that  could  be  borne  to  it. 

Tliere  is  no  necessity  for  supposing  that  John  and  the  disciples  of 
Jesus  baptized  at,  or  quite  close  to,  the  same  place.  On  the  contrary, 
such  immediate  juxtaposition  seems,  for  ol)vious  reasons,  unlikely. 
Jesus  was  within  the  boundaries  of  the  province  of  Judtea,  while 
John  baptized  at  JEnon  (the  springs),  near  to  Salim.  The  latter  site 
has  not  been  identified.  But  the  oldest  tradition,  which  places  it  a 
few  miles  to  the  south  of  Bethshean  (Scythopolis),  on  the  border  of 
Samaria  and  Galilee,  has  this  in  its  favour,  that  it  locates  the  scene  of 
John's  last  public  work  close  to  the  seat  of  Herod  Antipas,  into  whose 
power  the  Baptist  was  so  soon  to  be  delivered.^  But  already  there 
were  causes  at  work  to  remove  both  Jesus  and  His  Forerunner  from 
their  present  spheres  of  activity.  As  regards  Christ,  we  have  the 
express  statement,"-  that  the  machinations  of  the  Pharisaic  party  in 
Jerusalem  led  Him  to  withdraw  into  Galilee.  And,  as  we  gather  from 
the  notice  of  St.  John,  the  Baptist  was  now  involved  in  this  hostility, 
as  being  so  closely  connected  with  Jesus.  Indeed,  we  venture  the 
suggestion  that  the  imprisonment  of  the  Baptist,  although  occasioned 
by  his  outspoken  rebuke  of  Herod,  was  in  great  part  due  to  the 
intrigues  of  the  Pharisees.  Of  such  a  connection  between  them  and 
Herod  Antipas,  we  have  direct  evidence  in  a  similar  attempt  to  bring 
about  the  removal  of  Jesus  from  his  territory. ''  It  would  not  have 
been  difficult  to  rouse  the  suspicions  of  a  nature  so  mean  and  jealous 
as  that  of  Antipas,  and  this  may  explain  the  account  of  Josephus,'' 
who  attributes  the  imprisonment  and  death  of  the  Baptist  simply  to 


CHAP. 
VH 


"  St.  John 
iv.  1 


^  Si.  Luke 
xiii.  3],  32 


1  No  fewer  than  four  localities  have 
been  identified  with  ^Enon  and  Salim. 
Ewald,  Ileiigstenberg,  Wfeseler,  and 
Godet,  seelv  it  on  the  southern  border  of 
Judaea  {En-rimmun,  Neh.  xi.  29,  comp. 
Josh.  XV.  1,  32).  This  seems  so  improb- 
able as  scarcely  to  require  discussion. 
Dr.  B((rclny  (City  of  the  Great  Kinij.  \^\^. 
558-571)  finds  it  a  few  miles  from  Jeru- 
salem in  the  Wadtj  Fdr\i/i,  but  admits 
(p.  565)  that  tliere  are  doubts  about  the 
Arab  pronunciation  of  this  iS'r/Z^VH.  Lieut. 
Conder  (Tent-Work  in  Palest.,  vol.  i.  pp. 


91-93)  finds  it  in  the  Wady  7^«/-Vr/(,  which 
leads  from  Samaria  to  tlie  Jordan.  Here 
he  describes  most  pictorially  'tlie  spriuiis' 
'  in  the  open  valley  sui'rounded  by  deso- 
late and  shapeless  hills,'  with  the  viHase 
of  Sa/i'm  tliree  miles  south  of  the  valley, 
and  the  villajie  of  'Ainan  four  miles  north 
of  the  stream.  Against  this  there  are, 
however,  two  objections.  First,  both 
iEnon  and  Salim  would  have  been  in 
Samaria.  Secondly,  so  far  from  being 
close  to  each  otlier,  yEuon  would  have 
been  seven  miles  from  Salim. 


394 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   Till-:   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


••'Sf.M.-ifk  i. 
14:  St. Mark 
iv.  1? 


''  See  spe- 
cially St. 
Matt.  Iv.  13 
to  end 


<:  St.  John 
XX.  30,  31 ; 
xxi.  25 


d  Jo.s-.  Life, 

52 

<■  Ant.  XX. 

6.  1 


fSt.  Matt. 
X.  5 


Ilorod's  susi)ieious  lear  of  John's  unbounded  iiilliiencu  with  the 
people.' 

Leavino-  for  the  present  the  Baptist,  we  follow  the  footsteps  ot  the 
Master.  They  are  only  traced  by  the  disciple  who  best  understood 
their  direction,  and  who  alone  has  left  us  a  record  of  the  beginning  of 
Christ's  ministry.  For  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  expressly  indicate 
tiie  imprisonment  of  the  Baptist  as  their  starting-point,''  and,  though 
St.  Luke  docs  not  say  this  in  so  many  words,  he  characteristically  com- 
mences with  Christ's  public  Evangelic  teaching  in  the  Synagogues  of 
Galilee.  Yet  the  narrative  of  St.  Matthew"  reads  rather  like  a  brief 
summary;  ^  that  of  St.  Mark  seems  like  a  succession  of  rapid  sketches; 
and  even  that  of  St.  Luke,  though  with  deeper  historic  purpose  than 
the  others,  outlines,  rather  than  tells,  the  history.  St.  John  alone 
does  not  profess  to  give  a  narrative  at  all  in  the  ordinary  sense;  but 
he  selects  incidents  which  are  characteristic  as  unfolding  the  meaning 
of  that  Life,  and  records  discourses  which  open  its  inmost  teaching; " 
and  he  alone  tells  of  that  early  Judasan  ministry  and  the  journey 
through  Samaria,  which  preceded  the  Galilean  work. 

The  shorter  road  from  Judaea  to  Galilee  led  through  Samaria;  * 
and  this,  if  we  may  credit  Josephus,"  was  generally  taken  by  the 
Galileans  on  their  way  to  the  capital.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Judgeans  seem  chiefly  to  have  made  a  detour  through  Pergea,  in  order 
to  avoid  hostile  and  impure  Samaria.  It  lay  not  within  the  scope  of 
our  Lord  to  extend  His  personal  Ministry,  especially  at  its  com- 
mencement, beyond  the  boundaries  of  Israel,''  and  the  expression,  'He 
must  needs  go  through  Samaria,' ^  can  only  refer  to  the  advisability 


'  Ant.  xviii.  5.  2 :  '  But  to  some  of  the 
Jews  it  appeared,  that  the  destruction  of 
Herod's  arm.y  came  from  God,  and,  in- 
deed, as  a  righteous  punishment  on  ac- 
count of  what  had  been  done  to  John, 
who  was  surnamed  the  Baptist.  For 
Herod  ordered  him  to  be  killed,  a  good 
man,  and  who  commanded  tlie  Jews  to 
exercise  virtue,  botii  as  to  rigliteousness 
towards  one  anotlier.  and  piety  towards 
God,  and  so  to  come  to  baptism.  For 
that  the  baptizing  would  be  acceptable 
to  Him,  if  they  made  use  of  it,  not  for  the 
putting  away  (remission)  of  some  sins, 
hnt  for  the  i)urification  of  the  body,  after 
that  the  soul  had  been  previously  cleansed 
by  righteousness.  And  when  otliers  had 
come  in  crowds,  for  they  were*  exceed- 
ingly moved  by  hearing  th(>se  words, 
Herod,  fearing  lest  such  influence  of  his 
over  the  people  might  lead  to  some  re- 


bellion, for  they  seemed  ready  to  do  any- 
thing by  his  counsel,  deemed  it  best,  be- 
fore anything  new  should  happen  through 
him,  to  ])ut  him  to  death,  rather  than 
that,  when  a  change  should  arise  in  affairs, 
he  might  have  to  repent.'  Comp.  also 
Krebs.  Observatioues  inNov.  Test,  e  FI. 
Jos.  pp.  35,  36. 

'■*  I  am  so  strongly  impressed  with  this, 
that  I  do  not  feel  sure  about  Godot's 
theory,  that  tlie  calling  of  the  four  Apos- 
tles recorded  by  the  Svno])tists  (St.  Matt, 
iv.  18-22;  St.  Mark  i.  16-20:  St.  Luke  v. 
1-11),  had  really  taken  place  during  our 
Lord's  first  stay  in  Capernaum  (St.  John 
ii.  12).  On  the  whole,  however,  the  cir- 
cumstances recorded  by  the  Synoptists 
seem  to  indicate  a  period  in  the  Lord's 
Ministry  beyond  that  early  stay  in  Caper- 
naum. 


SAMARIA  AND  THE  SAMARITANS. 


395 


ill  tlio  circunistanccs  of  takiiiii' the  most  direct  road, '  or  else  to  tlic 
wish  of  avoiding  Pcraja  a.s  the  seat  of  Herod's  government.-  Such 
prejudices  in  regard  to  Samaria,  as  tliose  which  alfccted  the  ordinary 
Judaean  devotee,  would,  of  course,  not  influence  the  conduct  of  Jesus. 
But  great  as  these  undoubtedh^  were,  they  have  been  unduly  exagge- 
rated by  modern  writers,  misled  by  one-sided  quotations  from  Rabbinic 
works.* 

The  Biblical  history  of  that  part  of  Palestine  which  bore  the  name 
of  Samaria  need  not  here  be  repeated. "  Before  the  final  deportation 
of  Israel  by  Shalmaneser,  or  rather  Sargon,*  the  '  Samaria'  to  w'hich 
his  operations  extended  must  have  considerably  shrunk  in  dimensions, 
not  only  owing  to  previous  conquests,  but  from  the  circumstance  that 
the  authority  of  the  kings  of  Judah  seems  to  have  extended  over  a 
considerable  portion  of  what  once  constituted  the  kingdom  of  Israel." 
Probably  the  Samaria  of  that  time  included  little  more  than  the  city 
of  that  name,  together  with  some  adjoining  towns  and  villages.  It  is 
of  considerable  interest  to  remember  that  the  places,  to  which  the 
inhabitants  of  Samaria  were  transported,"  have  been  identified  with 
such  clearness  as  to  leave  no  reasonable  doubt,  that  at  least  some  of 
the  descendants  of  the  ten  tribes,  whether  mixed  or  unmixed  with 
Gentiles,  must  be  sought  among  what  are  now  known  as  the  Nestorian 
Christians.^  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  of  no  practical  importance  for 
our  present  purpose  to  ascertain  the  exact  localities,  whence  the  new 
'  Samaritans  '  were  brought  to  take  the  place  of  the  Israelitish  exiles.  •* 
Suffice  it,  that  one  of  them,  perhaps  that  which  contributed  tlie 
principal  settlers,  CutJiali,  furnished  the  name  Cuthim,  by  which  the 
Jews  afterwards  persistently  designated  the  Samaritans.  It  was  in- 
tended as  a  term  of  reproach,  Ho  mark  that  they  were  of  foreign 
race,*'®  and  to  repudiate  all  connection  between  them  and  the  Jews. 
Yet  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that,  at  least  in  later  times,  they  did 
not  contain  a  considerable  admixture  of  Israelitish  elements.  It  is 
difficult  to  suppose,  that  the  original  deportation  was  so  complete  as 
to  leave  bcliind  no  traces  of  the  original  Israelitish  inhabitants.^ 


CI  I A  I'. 

VII 


"  Com  p.  1 
Kings  xiil. 
32;  xvl.  24 
&c. ;   Tig- 
lath- 
pileser,  2 
Kings  XV. 
29;  Shal- 
maneser, 
xvil.  H~'>; 
xvlii.  9-11 ; 
Sargon, 
xvil.  6,  &c. 

>>  2  Chron. 
XXX.  1-26; 
xxxlv.  6 

•^  2  Kings 
xvil.  6 


'  I  cannot  agree  with  Archdeacon 
Watknis,  that  the  'needs  <»:o  '  was  in 
order  '  to  teach  in  Samaria,  as  in  Judaea, 
the  principles  of  true  relis;ion  and  wor- 
ship.' 

-  So  Benr/el  and  Lxthardt. 

^  Much  as  has  been  written  about 
Samaria,  tlie  subject  has  not  been  quite 
satisfactorily  treated.  Sonu'  of  tlie 
jjassages  referred  to  by  DeuUch  {Smith's 
Diet,  of  the  Bible,  vol.  iii.,  Art.  Samaritan 


Pentat.  ]).  1118)  cannot  l>e  verified — pro- 
bably owinu;  to  printer's  mistakes. 

•1  Comp.  Sniifh's  Rible  Diet..  Art.  Sar- 
gon; and  Schrader.  Keil-Inschr.  u.  d. 
Alte  Test.  p.  158  &c. 

•''  Of  course,  not  all  the  ten  tribes. 
Coini).  previous  remarks  on  their  migra- 
tions. 

^  The  expression  cannot,  however,  be 
pressed  as  implying  that  the  Samaritans 
were  of  entirely  Gentile  blood. 


''  2  Kings 
xvli.  24-26; 
comp.  Ezr. 
iv.  2, 10 


<■  St.  .John 
viii.  48 

f  St.  Luke 
xvil.  16. 


?  Comp.  2 
Chron. 
xxxlv.  6,  9; 
Jer.  xli.  5: 
Amos  V.  3 


396 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   j\IOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Jn.t. 
Xi.  8, 


Ant. 
2,  6,  7 


*  2  Kings 
xvii.  30,  31 


Tlicir  nuiuhcr  would  i)r()l)a1)ly  be  swelled  by  fugitives  Ironi  Assyria, 
and  by  J  ewish  settlers  iii  tiie  trouljlous  times  that  followed.  After- 
wards, as  we  know,  they  were  largely  increased  by  apostates  and 
rebels  against  the  order  of  things  established  by  Ezra  and  Nehemiah.* 
Similarly,  during  the  period  of  internal  political  and  religious  troubles, 
which  marked  the  period  to  the  accession  of  the  Maccabees,  the 
separation  between  Jews  and  Samaritans  could  scarcely  have  been 
generally  observed,  the  more  so  that  Alexander  the  Great  placed  them 
in  close  juxtaposition.^ 

The  first  foreign  colonists  of  Samaria  brought  their  peculiar  forms 
of  idolatry  with  them.''  But  the  Providential  judgments,  by  which  they 
were  visited,  led  to  the  introduction  of  a  spurious  Judaism,  consisting 
of  a  mixture  of  their  former  superstitions  \\'ith  Jewish  doctrines  and 
rites."  Although  this  state  of  matters  resembled  that  which  had 
obtained  in  the  original  kingdom  of  Israel,  perhaps  just  because  of 
this,  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  when  reconstructing  the  Jewish  common- 
wealth, insisted  on  a  strict  separation  between  those  who  had  returned 
from  Babylon  and  the  Samaritans,  resisting  equally  their  offers  of 
co-operation  and  their  attempts  at  hindrance.  This  embittered  the 
national  feeling  of  jealousy  already  existing,  and  led  to  that  constant 
hostility  between  Jews  and  Samaritans  which  has  continued  to  this 
day.  The  religious  separation  became  final  when  (at  a  date  which 
cannot  be  precisely  fixed  ^)  the  Samaritans  built  a  rival  temi)le  on 
Mount  Gerizim,  and  Manasseh,^  the  ])rother  of  Jaddua,  the  Jewish 
High-Priest,  having  refused  to  annul  his  marriage  with  the  daughter 
of  Sanballat,  was  forced  to  fiee,  and  ])ecame  the  High-Priest  of  the 
new  Sanctuary.  Henceforth,  by  impudent  assertion  and  falsifica- 
tion of  the  text  of  the  Pentateuch,*  Gerizim  was  declared  the  right- 
ful centre  of  worship,  and  the  doctrines  and  rites  of  the  Samaritans 
exhibited  a  curious  imitation  and  adaptation  of  those  prevalent  iu 
Judgea. 

We  cannot  here  follow  in  detail  the  history  of  the  Samaritans, 
nor  explain  the  dogmas  and  practices  peculiar  to  them.  The  latter 
would  1)0  the  more  difficult,  because  so  many  of  their  views  were  simply 
corrui)tions  of  those  of  the  Jews,  and  because,  from  the  want  of  an 
authenticated  ancient  literature,^  the  origin  and  meaning  of  many  of 
Gescb.   d.  Yolkes 


1  Comp.  Herzfekl 
Isr.  ii.  p.  120. 

■^  Jost  thinks  it  existed  even  before 
the  time  of  Alexander.  Comp.  yutt, 
Saniar.  Hist.  p.  16,  note  2. 

3  Tiie  difficult  ([uestion,  whether  this 
is  the  Sanbalhit  of  the  Book  of  Nehe- 


miah, is  fully  discussed  by  Fetermann 
{llcrzog's   Real-Enc.  vol.  xiii.  p.  366). 

■•  For  a  very  full  criticism  of  that 
Pentateuch,  see  Mr.  Deutsch's  Art.  in 
.Smith's  Bible-Diet. 

^  Comp.  the  sketch  of  it  in  Xutt's 
Samar.  Hist.,  and  Petermnnn's  Art. 


HISTORY  OF   SA.MARIA. 


307 
CHAP. 


tlieiii   li;ivc  ])ocn  forgotten.'      Sullicicnl,   however,  must  1)(>   said  to 
explain  the  luiitiial  relations  ut  the  time  when  the  Lord,  sitting  on        Vll 
Jacob's  well,  tirst  spake  to  tlic  Samaritans  of  the  better  worship  '  in  ^^ — -^r~ 
spirit  and  truth,'  and  opened  that  well  of  living  water  which   has 
never  since  ceased  to  flow^ 

Tlu!  political  history  of  the  people  can  be  told  in  a  few  sentences. 
Their  Tenii)lc,^  to  which  reference  has  been  made,  was  built,  not  in 
Samaria  but  at  Shechem — probably  on  accouni  of  the  position  held 
l)y  that  city  in  the  former  history  of  Israel — and  on  Mount  Gerizim, 
which  in  th(}  Samaritan  Pentateuch  was  substituted  for  Mount  Ehal 
in  Dent,  xxvii.  4.  It  was  Shechem  also,  with  its  sacred  associations 
of  Abraham,  Jacob,  and  Joseph,  which  became  the  real  capital  of  the 
Samaritans.  The  fate  of  the  city  of  Samaria  under  the  reign  of 
Alexander  is  uncertain — one  account  speaking  of  the  rebellion  of  the 
city,  the  murder  of  the  Macedonian  governor,  the  consequent  destruc- 
tion of  Samaria,  and  the  slaughter  of  part,  and  transportation  of  the 
rest,  of  its  inhabitants  to  Shechem,^  while  Josephus  is  silent  on  these 
events.  When,  after  the  death  of  Alexander,  Palestine  became  the 
field  of  battle  between  the  rulers  of  Egypt  and  Syria,  Samaria  suffered 
even  more  than  other  parts  of  the  country.  In  320  B.C.  it  passed 
from  the  rule  of  Syria  to  that  of  Egypt  (Ptolemy  Lagi).  Six  years 
later"-  it  again  became  Syrian  (Antigonus).  Only  three  years  after-  ^inau 
wards,"  Ptolemy  reconquered  and  held  it  for  a  very  short  time.  On  Mnmi 
bis  retreat,  he  destroyed  the  walls  of  Samaria  and  of  other  towns. 
In  301  it  passed  again  by  treaty  into  the  hands  of  Ptolemy,  but  in 
298  it  was  once  more  ravaged  by  the  son  of  Antigonus.  After  that 
it  enjoyed  a  season  of  quiet  under  Egyptian  rule,  till  the  reign  of 
Antiochus  (III.)  the  Great,  when  it  again  passed  temporarily,  and 
under  his  successor,  Seleucus  IV.  (Philopator),"  permanently  under  mst-h.-, 
Syrian  dominion.  In  the  troublous  times  of  Antiochus  I Y.  Epiphanes,**  "^  i'''''-i6i 
the  Samaritans  escaped  the  fate  of  the  Jews  by  repudiating  all  con- 

1  As  instances  we  may  mention  tlie  Belaud  (cle  Monte  Gads  iii.,  apud  Ugo- 
names  of  the  Angels  and  devils.  One  lini,  Thes.  vol.  vii.  pp.  717,  718),  wlio  ex- 
of  tlie  latter  is  called  Yatsara  (J?"'!*"'),  plains  the  name  as  TTfAf  Got;  T'aof,  .sV^^rro- 
which  Petermrnui  derives  from  Deut.  reum  delahrum,  corresponding:  to  the 
xxxi.  21,  and  Nutt  from  Ex.  xxiii.  2S.  I  Samaritan  desiiination  of  the  Temple  at 
have  little  doubt,  it  is  only  a  corruption  Jerusalem  as  N.-l'-^r'-^r  ."T^D  a'des  s/erco- 
of  Yefser  halia.  Indeed,  the  latter  and  rea.  Frnnkel  himself  (PaUist.  Ex.  p.  248) 
Satan  are  expressly  identified  in  Baba  B.  derives  the  expression  from  nXdTavo<; 
l(w^  Many  of  the  Samaritan  views  seem  with  reference  to  Gen.  xxxv.  4.  But 
only  corruptions  and  adaiitations  of  those  this  seems  quite  untenable.  May  not 
current  in  Palestine,  which,  indeed,  in  the  the  term  be  a  compound  of  1-^,  to  spit 
circumstances, miii'ht  have  been  expected.  ^,,ff   ;|,)d  vad'^^'. 

2  The  Jews  termed  it  C"i:'w:':'C  (Ber.  R.  •'  Comp.  Ilerzfdd,  u.  s.  ii.  i).  120. 
81).     Frankel  ridicules  the  derivation  of 


398 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  According 
to  Jns.  Ant. 
xll.  5.  5, 
eAAiJi'io?; 
according 
to  •>  Mace, 
vi.  2 
•2.  f  t-rios 

"  Betwpen 
ll.i  and  105 


■'  Ant.  XX.  8. 
5:  Jowisli 
War  i.  21.  2 


fSee  spe- 
ciallyWar 
iii.  d.  i,  5 


K  For  ex. 
Baba  B.  iii. 


''  For  ex. 
Jer.  Chag. 
iii.  i 


^  War  iii.  3. 
i,  5 


nection  with  Israel,  and  dedicating  their  temple  to  Jupiter.^  In  the 
contest  between  Syria  and  the  Maccabees  which  followed,  the 
Samaritans,  as  might  be  expected,  took  the  i)art  of  the  former.  In 
1 30  B.C.  John  Ilyrcanus  destroyed  the  Tcuii)le  on  Mount  Gerizim,^ 
which  was  never  rebuilt.  The  city  of  Samaria  was  taken  several 
years  afterwards ''  ^  by  the  sons  of  Hyrcanus  ( Antigouus  and  Aristo- 
bulus),  after  a  year's  siege,  and  the  successive  defeat  of  Syrian  and 
p]gyi)tian  armies  of  relief  Although  the  city  was  now  not  only 
destroyed,  but  actually  laid  under  water  to  complete  its  ruin,  it  was 
rebuilt  by  Gal)inius  shortly  before  our  era,"  and  greatl^^  enlarged  and 
beautified  by  Herod,  who  called  it  Seliaste  in  honour  of  Augustus,  to 
whom  he  reared  a  magnificent  temple.''  Under  Iloman  rule  the  city 
enjoyed  great  privileges — had  even  a  Senate  of  its  0^11.*=  By  one  of 
those  striking  coincidences  which  mark  the  Rule  of  God  in  liistory, 
it  was  the  accusation  brought  against  him  by  that  Samaritan  Senate 
Avhich  led  to  the  deposition  of  Pilate.  By  the  side  of  Samaria,  or 
Sebaste,  we  have  already  marked  as  perhaps  more  important,  and  as 
the  religious  capital,  the  ancient  Shechem,  which,  in  honour  of  the 
Imperial  family  of  Rome,  ultimately  obtained  the  name  of  Flavia 
Neapolis, which  has  survived  in  the  modern  IS^ablus.  It  is  interesting 
to  notice  tliat  the  Samaritans  also  had  colonies,  although  not  to  the 
same  extent  as  the  Jews.  Among  them  we  may  name  those  of 
Alexandria,  Damascus,  in  Babylonia,  and  even  some  by  the  shores  of 
the  Red  Sea.'' 

Although  not  only  in  the  New  Testament,  but  in  1  Mace.  x.  30, 
and  in  the  writings  of  Josephus,^  Western  Palestine  is  divided  into 
the  provinces  of  Jud^a,  Samaria,  and  Galilee,  the  Rabbis,  whose 
ideas  w^ere  shaped  by  the  observances  of  Judaism,  ignore  this  division. 
For  them  Palestine  consisted  only  of  Jud^a,  Pertea,  and  Galilee.^ 
Samaria  appears  merely  as  a  strip  intervening  between  Judasa  and 
Galilee,  being  'the  land  of  the  Cuthajans."'  Nevertheless,  it  was 
not  regarded  like  heathen  lands,  but  pronounced  clean.  Both  the 
Mishnah'  and  Josephus"  mark  Anuath  (\s:,n "r ■;£:)  as  the  southern 
boundary  of  Samaria  (towards  Judaea).     Northward  it  extended  to 


'  It  is  very  probable  that  the  date 
2.5  Marcheshvau  (Nov.)  in  the  Megill. 
Taan.  refers  to  the  capture  of  Samaria. 
Both  the  Talmud  (Jer.  Sot.  ix.  14;  Sot. 
33  a)  and  Jnsephus  (Ant.  xiii.  10.  7) 
refers  to  a  Bath  Qol  announcing  this 
victory  to  Hyrcanus  while  he  ministered 
in  the  Sanctuary  at  Jerusalem. 

^  Not  a  few  of  the  events  of  Herod's 


life  were  connected  with  Samaria.  There 
he  married  the  ])eautiful  and  ill-fated 
Mariamme  (Ant.  .\iv.  12.  1);  and  there, 
thirty  years  later,  her  two  sons  were 
strangled  by  order  of  the  jealous  tyrant 
(Ant.  xvi.  11.  2-7). 

3  Comp.  Xuff,  Samar.  Hist.  p.  26,  note, 
and  the  authorities  there  quoted. 


JEWS  AND   SAMARITANS. 


399 


6.  1 


GiiiEca  (the  ancient  En-Cjlaiiniiii)  on  the  south  side  of  tlie  jjlain  of     CHAP. 
Jezreel;  on  the  east  it  was  hounthMl  b^^  the  Jordan;  and  (jn  the  west        VII 
by  tlie  phiin  of  Sharon,  wliich  was  reckoned  as  belonging  to  Jiula.'a.   ^— -v — ' 
Thus  it  occupied  the  ancient  territories  of  Manasseh  and  p]phraini, 
and  extended  about  forty-eiglit  miles  (north  and  south)  by  forty  (east 
and  west).     In  aspect  and  climate  it  resembled  Judaea,  only  tliat  tlie 
scenery  was  more  beautilul  and  tlie  soil  more  fertile.      Tlie  political 
enmity  and  religious  separation  between  the  Jews  and  Samai'itans 
account  for  their  mutual  jealousy.       On   all   public   occasions   the 
8anuiritans  took  the  i)art  hostile  to  the  Jews,  while  they  seized  every 
opportunity  of  injuring  and  insulting  them.     Thus,  in  the  time  of 
Antiochus  III.  they  sold  many  Jews  into  slavery.''     Afterwards  they  ^Ant.  xu. 

i     1 

sought  to  mislead  the  Jews  at  a  distance,  to  whom  the  beginning  of 
every  month  (so  important  in  the  Jewish  festive  arrangements)  was 
intimated  by  beacon  tires,  by  kindling  spurious  signals."     We  also  ''Eosh 
read  that  they  tried  to  desecrate  the  Temple  on  the  eve  of  the 
Passover;  "^  and  that  they  waylaid  and  killed  pilgrims  on  their  road  '=Ant.  xvui. 
to  Jerusalem.'*    The  Jews  retaliated  by  treating  the  Samaritans  with  -i  Ant.  xx. 
every  mark  of  contempt;  by  accusing  them  of  falsehood,  folly,  and 
irreligion;  and,  what  they  felt  most  keenly,  by  disowaiing  them  as  of 
the  same  race  or  religion,  and  this  in  the  most  offensive  terms  of 
assumed  superiority  and  self-righteous  fanaticism. 

In  view  of  these  relations,  we  almost  wonder  at  the  candour  and 
moderation  occasionally  displayed  towards  the  Samaritans  in  Jewish 
writings.  Tliese  statements  are  of  practical  importance  in  this  history, 
since  elaborate  attempts  have  been  made  to  show  what  articles  of 
food  the  disciples  of  Jesus  might  have  bought  in  Samaria,  in  ignorance 
that  almost  all  would  have  been  lawful.  Our  inquiry  here  is,  how- 
ever, somewhat  complicated  by  the  circumstance  that  in  Rabbinic 
writings,  as  at  present  existing,  the  term  Samaritans  (Cuthim^)  has, 
to  avoid  the  censorship  of  the  press,  been  often  purposely  substituted 
for  'Sadducees,'  or  'heretics,'  i.e.  Christians.  Thus,  ■when"  the  ;;insanh. 
Samaritans  are  charged  with  denying  in  their  books  that  the  Resur- 
rection can  be  proved  from  the  Pentateuch,  the  real  reference  is 
supposed  to  have  been  to  Saddiicean  or  Christian  heretical  writings. 
Indeed,  the  terms  Samaritans,  Sadducees,  and  heretics  are  used  so 
interchangeably,  that  a  careful  inquiry  is  necessary,  to  show  in  each 
case  which  of  them  is  really  meant.       Still  more  frequent  is  the.  use 

1  The  more  exact  translation  would,  of  reasons,  it  is  impossible  always  to  adopt 

course,  be  Ki(tli/in,  hut  I  have  written  a  uniform  or  exact  system  of  translitera- 

Cuthim  on  account  of  the  reference  to  tiou. 

2  Kings  xxvii.  24.     Indeed,  for  various  ^  Thus  in  Ber.  57  h  Culha'an  is  e^i- 


•■Mb 


400 


FROM    .J()i;i)AN    TO   THE   MOl'NT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Ecclus.  1. 
25,  20 


I'  Test. 
Levi.  vii. 


'  Ber.  viii.  8 

d  Sheq.  i.  5 

<■  Jer. 
Abhod. 
Z.  V.  i, 

i>.  a  d 


fS.-^.nh.  8.5  6; 
Chilli.  3  h; 
Kidcl,  75  6 

f  .Jer.  Sheq. 
46  6 


■'  .Jer. 
Denial  lii.  4 


'Comp.also 
Jer.  Dem. 
vi.   11 :  .Jer. 
Ber.  vii.  1; 
and  .Jer. 
Kelh.  27  a 


of  the  term  '  Siiiuaritaii '  (*n";r)  I'oi"  'stranger'  (":::),  the  lattei',  and 
not  strictly  Samaritan  descent  Ijcing  jneant.*  The  popular  inter- 
change of  these  terms  casts  light  on  the  designation  of  the  Samaritan 
as  '  a  stranger  '  by  our  Lord  in  St.  Luke  xvii.  18. 

In  general  it  may  be  said  that,  while  on  certain  points  Jewish 
opinion  remained  always  the  same,  the  judgment  passed  on  the 
Samaritans,  and  especially  as  to  intercourse  with  them,  varied,  accord- 
ing as  they  showed  more  or  less  active  hostility  towards  the  Jews. 
Thus  the  Son  of  Sirach  would  correctly  express  the  feeling  of  con- 
tempt and  dislike,  when  he  characterised  the  Samaritans  as  '  the 
foolish  people '  which  his  'heart  abhorred.'"  The  same  sentiment 
appears  in  early  Christian  Pseudepigraphic  and  in  Rabbinic  writings. 
In  the  so-called  '  Testament  of  the  Twelve  Patriarchs '  (which  probably 
dates  from  the  beginning  of  the  second  century),  'Sichem'  is  the 
City  of  Fools,  derided  by  all  men."  It  was  only  natural,  that  Jews 
should  be  forbidden  to  respond  by  an  Amen  to  the  benediction  of 
Samaritans,  at  any  rate  till  they  were  sure  it  had  been  correctly 
spoken, ""  since  they  were  neither  in  practice  nor  in  theory  regarded 
as  co-religionists."*^  Yet  they  were  not  treated  as  heathens,  and 
their  land,  their  springs,  baths,  houses,  and  roads  were  declared  clean. ^ 

The  question  was  discussed,  whether  or  not  they  were  to  be  con- 
sidered '  lion-i^roselytes  '  (from  fear  of  the  lions),  or  as  genuine 
converts;  ^  and,  again,  whether  or  not  they  were  to  be  regarded  as 
heathens."  This,  and  the  circumstance  that  different  teachers  at 
different  times  gave  directly  opposite  replies  to  these  questions,  proves 
that  there  was  no  settled  princii)le  on  the  subject,  but  that  opinions 
varied  according  to  the  national  bearing  of  the  Samaritans.  Thus, 
we  are  expressly  told,''  that  at  one  time  both  their  testimony  and 
their  religious  orthodoxy  were  more  credited  than  at  others,  and  they 
are  not  treated  as  Gentiles,  but  placed  on  the  same  level  as  an  ignorant 
Jew.  A  marked  difference  of  opinion  here  prevails.  The  older 
tradition,  as  represented  by  Simon  the  son  of  Ganmlicl,  regards  them 
as  in  every  respect  like  Israelites;'  whilst  later  authority  (Rabbi 


(l('i)tly  iLsed  for  '  idolator.'  An  instance 
of  the  .lewLsh  use  of  the  term  Cuthiean 
for  Christian  occurs  in  Ber.  R.  G4,  where 
tiie  Imperial  permission  to  rebuild  the 
Temple  of  Jerusalem  is  said  to  have  been 
frustrated  by  Cuthi^an  intri<?ue,  the  text 
here  evidentl.y  referrin,<!;  by  that  exi;)res- 
sioii  not  to  Samaritans,  but  to  Christians, 
however  silly  the  charj^e  a,ii;ainst  them. 
See  Joel,  Blicke  in  d.  Reli<;-.  Gescli.  p. 
17.     Comp.  also  Frankel  u.   s.  p.  214; 


Jost,  Gesch.  d.  Judenth.  i.  p.  49.  note  2. 

^  Frciiikd  quotes  as  a  notable  instance 
of  it,  Ber.  viii.  8,  and  refers  in  proof  to 
the  Jerus.  Talmud  on  this  Mishnah.  But, 
for  reasons  soon  to  be  explained,  I  am 
not  prepared  in  this  instance  to  adopt  his 
view. 

-  As  in  the  case  of  heathens,  neither 
Temple-trilnite,  nor  any  oilier  than  free- 
will and  votive  olferings  were  received 
from  them. 


THE   JEWS   HAVE   NO    DEALINGS  WITH   THE   SAMAIMTANS.' 


401 


.Iclmda  the  Holy)  would  have  them  considered  and  treated  as  heathens. 
Again,  it  is  expressly  stated  in  tlic  BaV)ylon  Talmud,''  that  the  Samari- 
tans observed  the  letter  of  the  Pentateuch,  while  one  authority  adds, 
that  in  that  which  they  observed  they  were  more  strict  than  the 
Jews  themselves.''  Of  this,  indee<1,  there  is  evidence  as  re,u-ards  sev- 
eral ordinances.  On  the  other  hand,  later  authorities  ag'ain  reproach 
them  with  falsification  of  the  Pentateuch,  charge  them  witli  worsliij)- 
ping  a  dove,"  and  even  wlicn,  on  further  inquir}",  they  absolve  them 
from  this  accusation,  ascribe  their  excessive- veneration  for  Mount 
Gerizim  to  the  circumstance  that  they  worshipped  the  idols  which 
Jacob  had  buried  under  the  oak  at  Shechem.  To  the  same  hatred, 
caused  by  national  persecution,  we  must  impute  such  expressions 
as'^  that  he,  whose  hospitality  receives  a  foreigner,  has  himself  to 
blame  if  his  children  have  to  go  into  captivity. 

The  expression,  'the  Jews  have  no  dealings  with  the  Sanm- 
ritans,'"  finds  its  exact  counterpart*' in  this:  ^  May  I  never  set  eyes 
on  a  Samaritan; '  or  else,  '  May  I  never  be  thrown  into  company  with 
him!'  A  Rabbi  in  Cassarea  explains,  as  the  cause  of  these  changes 
of  opinion,  that  formerly  the  Samaritans  had  been  observant  of  the 
Law,  which  they  no  longer  were;  a  statement  repeated  in  another 
form  to  the  effect,  that  their  observance  of  it  lasted  as  long  as  they 
were  in  their  own  cities.^  Matters  proceeded  so  far,  that  they  were 
entirely  excluded  from  fellowship."  The  extreme  limit  of  this  direc- 
tion,' if,  indeed,  the  statement  applies  to  the  Samaritans,^  is  marked 
by  the  declaration,  that  to  partake  of  their  bread  was  like  eating- 
swine's  flesh.  This  is  further  improved  upon  in  a  later  Rab- 
binic work,"  which  gives  a  detailed  story  of  how  the  Samaritans 
had  conspired  against  Ezra  and  Nehemiah,  and  the  ban  been  laid 
ujjon  them,  so  that  now  not  only  was  all  intercourse  with  them 
forbidden,  but  their  bread  declared  like  swine's  flesh;  jiroselytes 
were  not  to  be  received  from  them;  nor  would  they  have  part 
in  the  Resurrection  of  the  dead.^  Rut  there  is  a  great  differ- 
ence between  all  this  extravagance  and  the  opinions  prevailing 
at  tlie  time  of  Jesus.  Even  in  the  Rabbinic  tractate  on  the  Sama- 
ritans'" it  is  admitted,  that  in  most  of  their  usages  they  resembled 
Israelites,  and  many  rights  and  privileges  are  conceded  to  them,  from 
which  a  heathen  would  have  been  excluded.     They  are  to  be  '  cred- 


CHAP. 
VII 

» Bcr.  f  7  h 

''  Com  p. 
ChuU.  4  a 

'ChuU.  Ga 


•iSanh. 
104  c. 


=  St.  John 
Iv.  9 

f  MeglU.  2 


e  Jer. 
Abhod. 
Zar.  V.  4 


i  Shebhyith 
vlii.  10 


"■Yalkut  li. 
p.  36  </ 


'  The  expi'essiou  literally  applies  to 
idolaters. 

-  Ill  Jer.  Kil.  ix.  4,  p.  32  c  (middle)  the 
question  of  the  Resurrection  is  discussed, 
when  it  is  said  that  the  Samaritan  iiilia- 


liitants  of  Palestine,  far  from  enjoying 
the  blessings  of  that  period,  would  be 
made  into  sections  (or,  made  like  cloth 
['!]),  and  then  burnt  up. 


m  Masse- 
ehtth 
Kuthim,  ill 
Kirchlirim, 
Septeni 
Libri  parvi 
Talmudlci, 
pp.  ai-36 


402 


FROM   J()i;i)AX   TO   TIIH   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


ited  '  on  many  points;  thcii-  meat  is  (loclarcd  clean,  if  an  Israelite 
liad  witnessed  its  killing,  or  a  Samaritan  ate  of  it;''  their  bread' 
and,  under  certain  conditions,  even  their  wine,  are  allowed;  and  the 
tinal  prospect  is  held  out  of  their  reception  into  the  Synagogue,  when 
they  shall  have  given  up  their  faith  in  Mount  Gerizini,  and  acknow- 
ledged Jerusalem  and  the  Resurrection  of  the  dead.  But  Jewish 
toleration  went  even  further.  At  the  time  of  Christ  all  their  food  was 
declared  lawful.''  There  could,  therefore,  be  no  difficulty  as  regarded 
the  purchase  of  victuals  on  the  part  of  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  most  of  the  peculiar  doctrines 
of  the  Samaritans  were  derived  from  Jewish  sources.  As  might  be 
expected,  their  tendency  was  Saddiicean  rather,  than  Pharisaic.^ 
Nevertheless,  Samaritan  'sages'  are  referred  to."  But  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  form  any  decided  opinion  about  the  doctrinal  views  of  the 
sect,  partly  from  the  comparative  lateness  of  their  literature,  and 
partly  because  the  Rabbinist  charges  against  them  cannot  be  abso- 
lutely trusted.  It  seems  at  least  doubtful,  whether  they  really  denied 
■isiphre  on  the  Rcsurrection,  as  asserted  by  the  Rabbis,'' from  whom  the  Fathers 

Numb.  XV.  ^  Ki  1 

have  copied  the  charge.^  Certainly,  they  hold  that  doctrine  at  pre- 
sent. They  strongly  believed  in  the  Unity  of  God;  they  held  the 
doctrine  of  Angels  and  devils;*  they  received  the  Pentateuch  as  of 
sole  Divine  authority;^  they  regarded  Mount  Gerizim  as  the  place 
chosen  of  God,  maintaining  that  it  alone  had  not  been  covered  by 
the  flood,  as  the  Jews  asserted  of  Mount  Moriah;  they  were 
most  strict  and  zealous  in  what  of  Biblical  or  traditional  Law  they 


BOOK 
III 

"Chull.  -ib 


^  Jer. 
Abhod. 
Zar.  V.  4 


•^GUt.  10  b 
Nidd.  33  & 


:n:  Sanh 
90  6 


1  111  .Jer.  Orlah  ii.  7  the  question  is  dis- 
cussed, how  long  after  the  Passover  it  is 
not  lawful  to  use  bread  baked  by  Samar- 
itans, showing  that  ordinarily  it  was  law- 
ful. 

^  The  doctrinal  views,  the  festive  ob- 
servances, and  the  literature  of  the  Sam- 
aritans of  a  later  period,  cannot  be  dis- 
cussed in  this  place.  For  further  infor- 
mation we  refer  to  the  following: — The 
Articles  in  Smith's  Dictionary  of  the 
Bible,  in  TT7»er'.s'  Bibl.  Real-Worterb., 
and  esiiecially  in  Herzor/s  Real-Encykl. 
{})}•  Fetf^rmuitn);  to  JuynboU,  Comment, 
in  Hist.  GentisSaniarit. ;  .Tost.  Gesch.  des 
Judenth. ;  Hevzfeld,  Gesch.  des  jiidisch. 
Volkes,  -passim;  Frankel.  Eintluss  der 
raUist.  Exeg.  pp.  237-2.')-t;  yntt,  Sketch 
of  Samarilan  History,  &c. 

^  Ejii/Jiciiiins,  Haeres.  ix.,  xiv. ;  Leon- 
fiits,  De  Sectis  viii. ;  G-rerjorii  the  Great, 
Moral,  i.  xv.  (Jh-imm  (Die  Samariter  &c., 
pp.    !)1   il-c),   not   only  stronglv  defends 


the  position  of  the  Fathers,  but  holds  that 
the  Samaritans  did  not  even  believe  in 
tlie  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  main- 
tained that  the  world  was  eternal.  The 
'  Samaritan  Chrouicje '  dates  from  the 
tliirteenth  century,  but  Grimm  main- 
tains that  it  embodies  the  earlier  views 
of  that  people  (u.  s.  p.  107). 

^  This  seems  inconsistent  with  their 
disbelief  of  the  Resurrection,  and  also 
casts  doubt  on  the  patristic  testimony 
about  them,  since  Leontins  falsely  accuses 
them  of  rejecting  the  doctrine  of  Angels. 
Epiphanins.  on  the  other  hand,  attrib- 
utes to  them  belief  in  Angels.  Pn-ldinl 
maintains,  that  they  regarded  the  Angels 
as  merely  '  powers ' — a  sort  of  imi)ersoiial 
abstractions;  Griinm  thinks  tliere  were 
two  sects  of  Samaritans — one  believing, 
the  other  disbelieving,  in  Angels. 

'"  For  their  horrible  distortion  of  later 
Jewish  Biblical  history,  see  Grimm  (u. 
s.),  p.  107. 


CHRIST  AND   THE   SAMARITANS. 


403 


received;  and  lastly,  and  most  important  of  all,  tlicy  looked  for  the 
coming  of  a  Messiah,  in  Whom  the  promise  would  be  fulfilled,  that 
the  Lord  God  would  raise  up  a  Prophet  from  the  ujidst  of  them,  like 
unto  Moses,  in  Whom  his  words  were  to  be,  and  unto  Whom  they 
should  hearken/^  Thus,  while,  in  some  respects,  access  to  them 
would  be  more  difficult  than  to  His  own  countrymen,  yet  in  others 
Jesus  would  find  thei-e  a  soil  better  prepared  for  the  Divine  Seed,  or, 
at  least,  less  encumbered  bj  the  thistles  and  tares  of  traditionalism 
and  Pharisaic  bigotry. 


CHAP. 
VII 


■Deut. 
xvlil.  15. 18 


1  They  expected  that  this  Messiali 
wouUl  tinally  convert  all  nations  to 
Saniaritanism  {Grimm,  p.  99).  But  there 
is  no  historic  ground  for  the  view  of 
Mr.  Nutt  (Sketch  of  Samar.  Hist.  pp.  40, 


r)9)  that  the  i<lea  of  a  Messiali  the  Sou  of 
Joseph,  which  holds  so  large  a  place  in 
later  Rabbinic  theology,  was  of  Samari- 
tan oriKiu. 


404  FKOM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRAJN'SriGURATION. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

JESUS   AT    THE  AVELL   OF  SYCHAR. 
(St.  John  iv.  1-42.) 

BOOK  There  is  not  a  district  in  '  the  Land  of  Promise '  Avhich  presents  a 
in        scene  more  fair  or  rich  than  the  plain  of  Samaria  (the  modern  El 

• — Y  '  Mukhna).  As  we  stand  on  the  summit  of  the  ridge,  on  the  way 
from  Shiloh,  the  eye  travels  over  the  wide  sweep,  extending  more 
than  seven  miles  northward,  till  it  rests  on  the  twin  heights  of 
Gerizim  and  Ebal,  which  enclose  the  valley  of  Shechem.  Follow- 
ing the  straight  olive-shaded  road  from  the  south,  to  where  a  spur 
of  Geriziin,  jutting  south-east,  forms  the  Vale  of  Shechem,  we  stand 
by  that  '  Well  of  Jacob  '  to  which  so  many  sacred  memories  attach. 
Here,  in  'the  parcel  of  ground'  afterwards  given  to  Joseph,^  which 
Jacob  had  bought  from  the  people  of  the  land,  the  patriarch  had, 
at  great  labour  and  cost,  sunk  a  well  through  the  limestone  rock. 
At  present  it  is  partially  filled  with  rubbish  and  stones,  but  originally 
it  must  have  gone  down  about  150  feet.^  As  the  whole  district 
abounds  in  springs,  the  object  of  the  patriarch  must  have  been  to 
avoid  occasion  of  strife  with  the  Amorite  herdsmen  around.  That 
well  marks  the  boundary  of  the  Great  Plain,  or  rather  its  extensions 
bear  other  names.  To  the  left  (westwards),  between  Gerizim^  (on  the 
south)  and  Ebal  (on  the  north),  winds  the  valley  of  olive-clad  Shechem, 
the  modern  Nablus,  though  that  town  is  not  in  view  from  the  Well 
of  Sychar.     Still    higher    up  the  same    valley,  the  mud    hovels  of 

1  The  reference  here  is  to  Gen.  xlviii.  hand,  this  may  Ije  regarded  as  another 

22.     Wiinsch",  indeed,  objects  that  this  undcsiiiiied  i)roof   of   the  Johannine  au- 

applicatiou  of  the  pas.sage  is  inaccurate,  tlioi'ship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel, 
and  contrary  to  universal  Rabbinic  tra-  -'  The  present  depth  of  tliewpj]  is  about 

ditiou..      But   in   this,    as   in   other    in-  seventy-tive  feet.-  Most  travellers  have 

stances,  it  is  not  the  Gospel,  but  rather  given  more  or  less  pictorial  accounts  of 

Dr.  Wiinschf,  who  is  inaccurate.     If  the  Jacolj's  Well.     We  refer  liere  especially 

reader  will  refer  to  ^re/'/er'.s"  Urschr.  p.  so.  to   Mr.    Kinr/s   Report  (Quarterly  Stat, 

he  will  lind  ;;roo/  that  the  Evaugeli.st's  of    the  Pal.Explor.   Fund,   Ap.    1879), 

rendering  of  Gen.  .xlviii.  22   was  in  ac-  although  it  contains  the  strange  mistake 

cordance  with  ancient  Rabbinic  tradition,  that    Jesus    had    that   day   come    from 

which  was    only  afterwards    alt(M'ed  for  Jerusalem,  and  reached  Jacob's  AVell  hy 

anti-Samaritan  purposes.     On  the  other  mi(hlay. 


AT  'THE  WELL   OF   JACOB.' 


405 


Sebastiyeh  mark  the  site  of  ancient  Sainarin,  the  maguiticent  Scbastc     CHAP, 
of  Ilerod.     North  of  the  entrance    to  the    Vale    of  Shechc^ni   rises       Vlll 
Mount  Ebal,  which  also  forms,  so  to  speak,  the  western  wall  of  the  "- — y-^— 
northern  extension  of  the  I'lain  of  Samaria.     Here  it  l)ears  the  name 
of  El  'Askar,  from  Askar,  the  ancient  Sycliar,   which  nestles  at  the 
foot   of  Ebal,    at   a  distance   of  about   two    miles   from   Shechem. 
Similarly,  the  eastern  extension  of  the  plain  l)ears  the  nanie  of  the 
Valley   of  Shalem,  from  the  hamlet  of  tliat  name,   which  prol)al)ly 
occupies  the  site- of  the  ancient  city  before  which  Jacob  pitched  his 
tent  on  his  return  to  Canaan.''  "Gen. 

At  '  the  Well  of  Jacob '  which,  for  our  present  purjiose,  nmy  be  la 
regarded  as  the  centre  of  the  scene,  several  ancient  lloman  roads  meet 
and  part.  That  southward,  to  which  reference  has  already  been 
made,  leads  close  by  Shiloh  to  Jerusalem;  that  westward  traverses  the 
vale  of  Shcchem;  that  northward  brings  ns  to  the  ancient  Sychar, 
only  about  half  a  mile  from  '  the  Well. '  Eastward  there  are  two  ancient 
Roman  roads:  one  winds  south-east,  till  it  merges  in  the  main  road; 
the  other  strikes  first  due  east,  and  then  descends  in  a  south-easterly 
direction  through  Wady  Fardh,  which  debouches  into  the  Jordan.  We 
can  trace  it  as  it  crosses  the  waters  of  that  Wady,  and  we  infer,  that 
its  immediate  neighbourhood  must  have  been  the  scene  where  Jesus 
had  taught,  and  His  disciples  baptized.  It  is  still  in  Juda?a,  and  yet 
sufficiently  removed  from  Jerusalem;  and  the  Wady  is  so  full  of  springs 
that  one  spot  near  it  actually  bears  the  name  of  'Ainun,  '  springs,' 
like  the  ancient  jEnon.  But,  from  the  spot  which  we  have  indicated, 
it  is  about  twenty  miles,  across  a  somewhat  difficult  country  to  Jacob's 
Well.  It  would  be  a  long  and  toilsome  day's  journey  thither  on  a 
summer  day,  and  we  can  understand  how,  at  its  end,  Jesus  Avould 
rest  weary  on  the  low  parapet  which  enclosed  the  Well,  while  His 
disciples  went  to  buy  the  necessary  provisions  in  the  neighbouring 
Sychar. 

Audit  was,  as  we  judge,  the  evening  of  a  day  in  early  summer,^ 
when  Jesus,  accompanied  by  the  small  band  which  formed  His 
disciples,^  emerged  into  the  rich  Plain  of  Samaria.  Far  as  the  eye 
could  sweep,    'the  fields'  were    'already    white  unto  the  harvest.' 


1  For  'the  location  of  Sycliar,'  and  the 
vinflicatioii  of  the  view  that  the  event 
took  place  at  tlie  lie^iiniini;-  of  tlie  wheat 
harvest,  or  al)out  tlie  middle  of  May,  see 
A]ipeiidix  XV.  The  question  is  of  con- 
siderable importance. 

^  From  the  silence  of  the  Synoptists, 


and  the  p:eneral  designation  of  the  dis- 
ciples without  nanuni;  them,  Ctisjun-t 
concludes  that  oidy  .lohii,  and  perhaps 
Nathanael,  but  none  t)f  the  other  apostles, 
had  accompanied  Jesus  on  this  journey 
(Chrouol.  Geogr.  Einl.  p.  104). 


406  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGUPATION. 

BOOK  TliC}- had  reached  'the  Well  of  Jacol).'  There  Jesus  waited,  while 
I'l        the  others  went  to  Sjchar  on  their  work  of  ministry.     Probably  John 

^— ^.^ remained  with  the  Master.     They  would  scarcely  have  left  Him  alone, 

especially  in  that  i)lace;  and  the  whole  narrative  reads  like  that  of 
one  who  had  been  present  at  what  passed.^  More  than  any  other, 
perhaps,  in  the  Fourth  Gospel,  it  bears  the  mark,  not  only  of  Judaean, 
but  of  contemporary  authorship.  It  seems  utterly  incompatible  with 
the  modern  theory  of  its  Ephesian  origin  at  the  end  of  the  second 
century.  The  location  of  the  scene,  not  in  Sebasteor  Shechem,  l)ut 
at  Sychar,-  which  in  the  fourth  century  at  least  had  so  entirely  ceased 
to  be  Samaritan,  that  it  had  become  the  home  of  some  celebrated 
Rabbis;^  the  intimate  knowledge  of  Samaritan  and  Jewish  relations, 
wiiich  at  tlie  time  of  Christ  allowed  the  purchase  of  food,  but  would 
certainly  not  have  conceded  it  two  centuries  later;  even  the  intro- 
duction of  such  a  statement  as  'Salvation  is  of  the  Jews,'  wholly 
inconsistent  with  the  supposed  scope  of  an  Ephesian  Gospel — tliese 
are  only  some  of  the  facts  which  will  occur  to  the  student  of  that 
period,  as  ])earing  unsolicited  testimony  to  the  date  and  nationality 
of  the  writer. 

Indeed,  tliere  is  such  minuteness  of  detail  about  the  narrative, 
and  with  it  such  charm  of  simplicity,  alTectionateness,  reverence,  and 
depth  of  spiritual  insight,  as  to  carry  not  only  the  conviction  of  its 
truthfulness,  but  almost  instinctively  to  suggest  to  us  'the  beloved 
disciple  '  as  its  witness.  Already  he  had  taken  the  place  nearest  to 
Jesus  and  saw  and  spake  as  none  other  of  the  disciples.  Jesus 
wear}^,  and  resting  while  the  disciples  go  to  buy  food,  is  not  an 
Ephesian,  but  a  truly  Evangelic  presentation  of  the  Christ  in  His 
human  weakness  and  want. 

All  around  would  awaken  in  the  Divinely-attuned  soul  of  the  Divine 
Redeemer  the  thoughts  which  so  soon  afterwards  found  appropriate 
words  and  deeds.  He  is  sitting  by  Jacob's  Well — the  very  well 
which  the  ancestor  of  Israel  had  digged,  and  left  as  a  memorial  of  his 
first  and  symbolic  possession  of  the  land.  Yet  this  was  also  the  scene 
of  Israel's  first  rebellion  against  God's  order,  against  the  Davidic  line 
and  the  Temple.  And  now  Christ  is  here,  among  those  who  are  not 
of  Israel,   and  who  persecute  it.     Surely  this,  of  all  others,  would  be 

1  Caspari  (u.  s.  p.  103)  thinks  that  is  mentioned  by  the  Rabbis,  argues  that 

John  only  related  that  of  whicli  he  him-  the  use  of  tlie  name  Sycliar  for  Shechem 

self  was  an  eyewitness,  except,  perhaps,  affords  evidence  that  the  Fourth  Gospel 

iu  ch.  xviii.  33,  &c.  is  of  Gentile-Christian  origin. 

■^  It  is  very  characteristic  when  Schen-  ^  See  Appendix  XV. 
kel,  in  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  Sychar 


THE   WIDER   BEAKING   01-    TllLS   HISTORY. 


407 


the  place  where  the  Son  of  David,  east  out  of  Jerusalem  and  the 
Tenii)le,  would  think  of  the  breach,  and  of  what  alone  could  heal  it. 
He  is  hungry,  and  those  fields  are  white  to  the  harvest;  yet  far  more 
hungering  for  that  sjjiritual  harvest  which  is  the  food  of  Ilis  soul. 
Over  against  Him,  sheer  up  800  feet,  rises  Mount  Gerizim,  with  the 
ruins  of  the  Sanurriian  rival  Temple  on  it;  just  as  far  behind  Him, 
already  overhung  by  the  dark  cloud  of  judgment,  are  that  Temple  and 
City  which  knew  not  the  day  of  their  visitation.  The  one  incpiiring 
woman,  and  she  a  Samaritan,  and  the  few  only  partially  conn)re]iend- 
ing  and  much  misundei'standing disciples;  their  inward  thinking  that 
for  the  spiritual  harvest  it  was  but  seed-time,  and  the  reaping  yet 
'four  months  distant,'  while  in  reality,  as  even  their e3-es  might  see  if 
the}'  but  lifted  them,  the  fields  were  white  unto  the  harvest:  all  ihis, 
and  much  more,  forms  a  unique  background  to  the  picture  of  this 
narrative. 

To  take  another  view  of  the  varying  lights  on  that  ])icture:  Jesus 
weary  and  thirsty  by  Jacob's  Well,  and  the  water  of  life  which  was  to 
spring  I'rom,  and  by  that  Well,  with  its  unfailing  supply  and  its  un- 
ending refreshment!  The  spiritual  in  all  this  bears  deepest  symbolic 
analogy  to  the  outward — yet  with  such  contrasts  also,  as  the  woman 
giving  to  Christ  the  one.  He  to  her  the  other;  she  unconsciously  be- 
ginning to  learn,  He  unintendingly  (for  He  had  not  even  entered 
Sychar)  beginning  to  teach,  and  that,  Avhat  He  could  not  yet  teach  in 
Juda3a,  scarcely  even  to  His  own  dis(*iples;  then  the  complete  change 
in  the  wonmn,  and  the  misapprehension''  and  non-reception'' of  the 
disciples — and  over  it  all  the  weary  form  of  the  Man  Jesus,  opening 
as  the  Divine  Christ  the  well  of  everlasting  life,  the  God-Man  satisfied 
witli  the  meat  of  doing  the  AVill,  and  finishing  the  Work,  of  Him 
that  sent  Him:  such  are  some  of  the  thoughts  suggested  by  the 
scene. 

And  still  others  rise,  as  we  think  of  the  connection  in  the  narra- 
tive of  St.  John  of  this  with  what  preceded  and  with  what  follows. 
It  almost  seems  as  if  that  Gos])el  were  constructed  in  cycles,  each 
beginning,  or  at  least  connected,  with  Jerusalem,  and  leading  up  to  a 
grand  climax.  Thus,  the  first  cycle''  might  be  called  that  of  purifi- 
cation :  first,  that  of  the  Temple;  then,  inward  purification  b}^  the 
Baptism  from  above;  next,  the  symbolic  Baptism  of  water;  lastly,  the 
real  water  of  life  given  by  Jesus;  and  the  climax — Jesus  the  Restorer 
of  life  to  them  that  believe.  Similarly,  the  second  cycle,"  beginning 
with  the  idea  of  water  in  its  symbolic  application  to  real  worship  and 
life  from  Jesus,  would  carry  us  a  stage  further;  and  so  onward  through- 


CHAP. 
VIII 


"  St.  Jolin 
iv.  33 


i>  n.  13-iv. 
54 


v.-vl.  3 


408  FlUm    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      out  the  (jos])el.     Along-  with  this  wc  may  note,  as  another  peculiarity 

III        of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  that  it  seems  arranged  according  to  this  definite 

^~-^-y — '  plan  of  grouping  together  in  each  instance  the  tvork  of  Christ,  as 

followed  by  the  illustrative  word  of  Christ.     Thus  the  fourth  would, 

Isoth  externally  and  internally,  be  the  pre-eminently  Judcean  Gospel, 

characterised  by  cyclical  order,  illustrative  conjunction  of  work  and 

ivord,  and  progressively  leading  up  to  the  grand  climax  of  Christ's 

last  discourses,  and  finally  of  His  Death  and  Resurrection,  with  the 

teaching  that  flows  from  the  one  and  the  other. 

It  was  about  six  o'clock  in  the  evening,^  when  the  travel-stained 

pilgrims  reached  that  '  parcel  of  ground  '  which,  according  to  ancient 

Jewish  tradition,  Jacob  had  given  to  his  son  Joseph.'^     Here  (as 

already  stated)  by  the  *  Well  of  Jacob  '  where  the  three  roads — south, 

to  Sliechem,  and  to  Sychar  (Askar) — meet  and  part,  Jesus  sat  down, 

while  the  disciples  (probably  with  the  exception  of  John)  went  on  to 

the  closely  adjoining  little  town  of  Sychar  to  buy  food.     Even  this 

latter  circumstance  marks  that  it  was  evening,  since  noon  was  not  the 

time  either  for  the  sale  of  provisions,  nor  for  their  purchase  by  travellers. 

Once  more  it  is  when  the  true  Humanity  of  Jesus  is  set  before  us,  iii 

the  weakness  of  His  hunger  and  weariness, °  that  the  glory  of  His 

Divine  Personality  suddenly  shines  through  it.     This  time  it  was  a 

poor,  ignorant  Samaritan  woman, "*  who  came,  not  for  any  religious 

purpose — indeed,  to  whom  religious  thought,  except  within  her  own 

very  narrow  circle,  was  almost  unintelligible — who  became  the  occasion 

of  it.     She  had  come — like  so  many  of  us,  who  find  the  pearl  in  the 

field  Avhich  we  occupy  in  the  business  of  everyday-life — on  huml)le, 

ordinary  duty  and  work.     Men  call  it  common  ;  but  there  is  nothing 

common  and  unclean  that  God  has  sanctified  by  making  use  of  it,  or 

which  His  Presence  and  teaching  may  transform  into  a  vision  from 

heaven. 

1  We  have  ah-eady  expressed  oiir  belief,  to   Jesus  'to   tarry'  with  them   (v.  40), 

that  in  the  Fourth  Gospel  time  is  reckoned  are  in  favour  of  our  view.     Indeed,  St. 

not  accordinn-  to  the  Jewish  mode,  but  John   xix.  U  renders  it  impossible  to 

according-  to  the  Roman  civil  day,  from  adopt  the  Jewish  mode  of  reckoning, 

midnight  to  mi(hrm-lit.     For  a  fill!   dis-  -  See  a  i)revioa3  note  on  p.  404. 

cussion  and  proof  of  this,  with  notice  of  '■  Godet  rightly  asks  what,  in  view  ot 

objections,  see  McLendn's  New  Test. vol.  this,  becomes  of  the  sui)i)0sed  Docetism 

i.  pp.  737-74.S.   It  must  surely  be  a  hcpaus  which,  according  to  the  Tiibingen  school, 

when  at  p.  288  (note  o),  thesame  author  is  one  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Fourili 

seems  to  assume  the  contrary.     Mei/er  Gospel  ? 

oljjects,  that,  if  it  had  been  6  p.m..  ■»  By  which  we  are  to  understand  a 
there  would  not  have  been  time  for  woman  from  the  co?/;?/;-?/,  not  the  town  of 
the  after-events  recorded.  But  tliey  Samaria,  a  Samaritaness.  The  sugges- 
could  easily  tind  a  i)laco  in  the  delicious  tion,  that  she  resorted  to  Jacob's  Well 
cool  of  a  summer's  evening,  and  both  the  on  account  of  its  sanctity,  scarcely  re- 
coming  ui)  of  the  Samaritans  (most  un-  ([uires  refutation, 
likely  at  noon-timej,  and  their  invitation 


'GIVE   ME   TO   DRINK.'  409 

Tlioro  was  another  well  (the  'Ain  \4.skar),  on  the  cast  side  of  the  chap. 
little  town,  and  niucli  nearer  to  Sycliar  than  '  Jaeob's  Well;'  and  vm 
to  it  prol)al)ly  the  women  of  Sycliar  generally  resorted.  It  should  ^- — r^"^ 
also  be  borne  in  mind,  that  in  tliose  days  such  work  no  longer  de- 
volved, as  in  early  times,  on  the  matrons  and  maidens  of  fair  degree, 
but  on  women  in  much  humbler  station.  This  Sanmritaness  may  have 
chosen  'Jacob's  Well,'  perhaps,  because  she  had  been  at  work  in  the 
fields  close  by;  or  else,  because  her  abode  was  nearer  in  that  direction— 
for  the  ancient  Sychiw  may  have  extended  southward;  perhaps,because, 
if  her  character  was  what  seems  implied  in  verse  18,  the  concourse 
of  the  more  common  women  at  the  village-well  of  an  evening  might 
scarcely  be  a  pleasant  place  of  resort  to  one  with  her  history.  In  any 
case,  Ave  may  here  mark  those  Providential  leadings  in  our  everyday 
life,  to  which  we  arc  so  often  almost  as  much  spii'itually  indebted,  as 
to  grace  itself;  which,  indeed,  form  part  of  the  disj^ensation  of  grace. 
Perhaps  we  should  note  how,  all  unconsciously  to  her  (as  so  often 
to  us),  poverty  and  sin  sometimes  bring  to  the  well  by  which  Jesus 
sits  weary,  when  on  His  return  from  self-righteous  Judtea. 

But  these  are  only  symbols;  the  barest  facts  of  the  narrative  are 
themselves  sufficiently  full  of  spiritual  interest.  Both  to  Jesus  and 
to  the  woman,  the  meeting  was  unsought,  Providential  in  the  truest 
sense — God-brought.  Reverently,  so  far  as  the  Christ  is  concerned, 
we  add,  that  both  acted  truly — according  to  what  was  in  them.  The 
request:  '  Give  Me  to  drink,'  was  natural  on  the  part  of  the  thirsty 
traveller,  when  the  woman  had  come  to  draw  water,  and  they  who 
usually  ministered  to  Him  were  away.''  Even  if  He  had  not  spoken,  »ver.  s 
the  Samaritaness  would  have  recognised  the  Jew  by  His  appearance ' 
and  dress,  if,  as  seems  likely.  He  wore  the  fringes  on  the  border  of 
His  garment.-  His  speech  would,  by  its  pronunciation,  place  His 
nationality  beyond  doubt. ^  Any  kindly  address,  conveying  a  request 
not  absolutely  necessary,  would  naturally  surprise  the  woman:  for,  as 

'  Accordin.2;  to  the  testimony  of  travel-  '•  Tliere    were,    undoubtedly,    marked 

lers  the  Samaritans,  with  the  exception  ditferences    of    pronunciation    l)etween 

of  the  Iliiih-Priestly  family,  have  not  the  the  Jews  and  tiie  Samaritans.     Witiiout 

co.nmon,  well-known  type  of  Jewish  face  enterinii-  into  details,  it  may  be  said,  that 

and  feature.  they  chiefly  concern  the    vowel-sounds; 

■^  The  'frin,!2;es'  on  the  TaUith  of  the  and    among    consonants   the   r/i(tti(rals 

Samaritans  are  blue,  while  those  worn  l)y  (which  are  generally    not    pronounced), 

the  Jews,  whether  on  X\\QArbi(  luoiphaili  the  aspirafes.  and  the  letter  r.  which  is 

or  the  TaUith,  are  white.  The  Samaritans  not,    as     in     Hebrew,     either    r    (i)ro- 

do  not  seem  to  have  worn  phyldctcru'n  nounced  s),  or  u  (pronounced  .s7/),  but  is 

(Menach.  42  h).     But  neither  did   many  always  pronounced  as -.s//.'  In  connection 

(if  the  Jews  of  old — nor,  I  feel  persuaded.  with  this  we  may  notice    one    of   those 

our  Lord  (comp.  Jost,  Gesch.  d.  Judenth.  instances,  how  a  strange  mistake  comes 

vol.  i.  p.  GO).  'by  tradition"  to  l)e  commonly  received.  It 


410  FROM   JOIIDAX   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

j'.ooK  the  Evangelist  cxplaiialivcly  adds:  '  J(!\vs  have  no  doalino-s  v\itli 
III  Samaritans,"  '  or  rather, as  theexpression  implies, no  needless,  friendly, 
"- — ^.^^"^  nor  familiar  intercourse  with  them — a  statement  true  at  all  times. 
Besides,  we  nnist  rememl)er  that  this  Avas  an  ignorant  Samaritaness 
of  the  lower  order.  In  the  mind  of  'such  an  one,  two  points  would 
mainly  stand  out:  that  the  Jews  in  their  wicked  pride  would  have  no 
intercourse  with  them;  and  that  Gerizim,  not  Jerusalem,  as  the  Jews 
falsely  asserted,  was  the  place  of  rightful  worship.  It  was,  therefore, 
genuine  surprise  which  expressed  itself  in  the  question:  'How  is  it. 
Thou,  being  a  Jew,  of  me  askest  to  drink  ?'  It  was  the  first  lesson 
she  learned,  even  before  He  taught  her.  Here  was  a  Jew,  not  like 
ordinary  Jews,  not  like  what  she  had  hitherto  thought  them:  what 
was  the  cause  of  this  difference  ? 

Before  we  mark  how  the  answer  of  Jesus  met  this  very  question, 
and  so  as  to  direct  it  to  spiritual  profit,  another  and  more  general  re- 
flection presses  on  our  minds.  Although  Jesus  may  not  have  come 
to  Sychar  with  the  conscious  purpose  of  that  which  ensued,  yet,  given 
the  meeting  with  the  Samaritan  woman,  what  followed  seems  almost 
matter  of  necessity.  For  it  is  certain  that  the  Christ,  such  as  the 
Gospels  descrilie  Him,  could  not  have  been  brought  into  contact  with 
spiritual  ignorance  and  want,  any  more  than  Avith  physical  distress, 
without  oflering  it  relief.  It  was,  so  to  speak,  a  necessity,  alike  of 
His  Mission  and  of  His  Nature  (as  the  God-Man).  In  the  language 
of  another  Gospel,  '  power  went  out  from  Him; '  and  this,  whether 
consciously  sought,  or  unconsciously  felt  after  in  the  stretching  forth 
of  the  hands  of  the  sightless  or  in  the  upward  look  of  the  speechless. 
The  Incarnate  Son  of  God  could  not  Init  bring  health  and  life  amidst 
disease  and  death;  the  Saviour  had  come  to  seek  and  to  save  that 
Avhich  was  lost. 

And  so  it  was,  that  the  '  Hoav  is  it  ?'  of  the  Samaritan  woman 
so  soon,  and  so  fully,  found  its  answer.  '  How  is  it  ? '  In  this,  that 
He,  Who  had  spoken  to  her,  was  not  like  what  she  thought  and  knew 

has  been  asserted  that  if  Jesus  had  said  first  to  have  heen  made — though  re7'j/ 

to  the  woman:  T^'ni  li  lisMofh  ('  Give  me  douhifully — by  Stier  (Reden  Jesn,  iv.  ji. 

to  driuii'),  a  Samaritan  would  liave  pro-  134).  Stier,  however,  atleast  rendered  tl)e 

nounced  it  ^/.s<,7^//,  since  the  Samaritans  words  of  .lesus :   Teni  U  liNhtoth.     Godet 

l)ronounced  the  ah  as  s.    But  tlie  reverse  (ad  loc.)  accepts  Stier's  suggestions,  but 

of  this  is  the  fact.     The  Samaritans  pro-  renders  the  words:    Teni   li   lishc/^oth. 

nounced  the  s  {'sin')  as  sh  {' shia') —  Later  writers  have   repeated  this,  only 

and  not  the  sh  as  s.     The  mistake  arose  altering  lishchoth  into  lishA-oth. 

from   confoundiiig  the   old    Ephraimite  ^  The  article  is  wanting  in   the  ori- 

(.Judg.  xii.  5,  ())  with  the  Samaritan  mode  ginal. 
of  pronouncing.     Tlie  suggestion  seems 


THE   LIYINfJ    WATER   UNTO    ETERNAL    EIFE.  411 

of  the  Je\\>*.  He  was  what  Israel  was  intended  to  liave  become  to  chap. 
mankind;  what  it  was  the  hnal  ol)ject  ot  Israel  to  have  been.  In  Vlll 
Him  was  God's  gift  to  mankind.  Had  she- but  known  it,  the  present  ^— ^-r — ' 
relation  between  them  W(juld  have  been  reversed;  the  Well  of  Jacob 
would  have  been  a  symbol,  yet  but  a  symbol,  of  the  living  water, 
which  she  would  have  asked  and  He  given.  As  always,  the  seen  is 
to  Christ  the  emblem  of  the  unseen  and  spiritual;  Nature,  that  in 
and  through  which,  in  manifold  and  divers  colouring,  He  ever  sees 
the  supernatural,  even  as  the  light  lies  in  varying  hues  on  the  moun- 
tain, or  glows  in  changeful  colouring  on  the  edge  of  the  horizon.  A 
view  this  of  all  things  existent,  which  Hellenism,  even  in  its  sublimest 
poetic  conception  of  creation  as  the  impress  of  heavenly  archetypes, 
has  only  materialised  and  reserved.  But  to  Jesus  it  all  pointed  up- 
ward, because  the  God  of  Nature  was  the  God  of  Grace,  the  One 
Living  and  True  God  in  Whom  all  matter  and  spirit  lives.  Whose 
world  is  one  in  design,  workmanship,  and  purpose.  And  so  nature 
was  but  the  echo  of  God's  heard  Voice,  which  ever,  to  all  and  in  all, 
speaks  the  same,  if  there  be  but  listening  ears.  And  so  He  would 
have  it  speak  to  men  in  paral)lcs,  that,  to  them  who  see,  it  might  be 
the  Jacob's  ladder  leading  from  earth  to  heaven,  while  they,  whose 
sight  and  hearing  are  bound  in  the  sleep  of  heart-hardening,  would 
see  but  not  perceive,  and  hear  but  not  understand. 

It  was  with  the  ignorant  woman  of  Sychar,  as  it  had  been  with 
the  learned  '  Master  in  Israel.'  As  Nicodemus  had  seen,  and  yet  not 
seen,  so  this  Samaritaness.  In  the  birth  of  which  Jesus  spoke,  he  had 
failed  to  apprehend  the  *  from  above  '  and  '  of  the  Spirit; '  she  now  the 
thought  suggested  by  the  contrast  between  the  cistern  in  the  lime- 
rock  and  the  well  of  living  w^ater.  The  '  How  can  these  things  be  ? ' 
of  Nicodemus  finds  its  parallel  in  the  bewilderment  of  the  woman. 
Jesus  had  nothing  wherewith  to  draw  from  the  deep  well.  Whence, 
then,  the  '■  living  water '  ?  To  outward  appearance  there  was  a  physi- 
cal impossibility.  This  was  one  aspect  of  it.  And  yet,  as  Nicodemus' 
question  not  only  similarly  pointed  to  a  physical  impossibility,  but 
also  indicated  dim  searching  after  higher  meaning  and  spiritual 
reality,  so  that  of  the  woman:  'No  !  art  Thou  greater  than  our  father 
Jacob  ? '  who,  at  such  labour,  had  dug  this  well,  finding  no  other 
means  than  this  of  supplying  his  own  wants  and  those  of  his  descend- 
ants. Nor  did  the  answer  of  Jesus  now  difter  in  spirit  from  that 
which  He  had  given  to  the  Rabbi  of  Jerusalem,  though  it  lacked  the 
rebuke,  designed  to  show  how  thoroughly  the  religious  system,  of 


412  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

]?()()K  which  Nicodoinns  was  a  teacher,  failed  in  its  highest  object.  But  to 
III        this  woman  His  answer  must  be  much  simpler  and  plainer  than  to  the 

^— ^r^-'  Kabbi.  And  yet,  if  it  be  Divine  teaching,  it  cannot  be  quite  plain, 
but  must  contain  that  which  will  point  upward,  and  lead  to  further 
inquiry.  And  so  the  Divine  Teacher  explained,  not  only  the  differ- 
ence between  ordinary  water  and  that  of  which  He  had  spoken,  but 
in  a  manner  to  bring  her  to  the  threshold  of  still  higher  truth.  It 
was  not  water  like  that  of  Jacob's  Well  which  He  would  give,  but 
'  living  water.'     In  the  Old  Testament  a  perennial  spring  ha<l,    in 

aGeu.xxvi.   tigurative  language,  been  thus  designated,''  in  significant  contrast  to 

19 ;  Lev.  "" 

xiv.  5  water  accumulated  m  a  cistern."     But  there  was  more  than  this:  it 

b  Jer.  ii.  13  ^^.^g  water  which  for  ever  quenched  the  thirst,  by  meeting  all  the  in- 
Avard  wants  of  the  soul;  water  also,  which,  in  him  avIio  had  drunk  of 
it,  became  a  well,  not  merely  quenching  the  thirst  on  this  side  time, 
but  '  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.'  It  was  not  only  the  meeting 
of  wants  felt,  but  a  new  life,  and  that  not  essentially  different,  but  the 
same  as  that  of  the  future,  and  merging  in  it. 

The  question  has  sometimes  been  asked,  to  what  Jesus  referred  by 
that  well  of  living  water  springing  up  into  everlasting  life.  Of  the 
various  strange  answers  given,  that,  surely,  is  almost  the  worst,  which 
would  apply  it  to  the  doctrine  of  Jesus,  supporting  such  explanation 
by  a  reference  to  Rabbinic  sayings  in  which  doctrine  is  compared  to 
'  water.'  This  is  one  of  those  not  unfrequent  instances  in  which  Ra1> 
binic  references  mislead  rather  than  lead,  being  insufficiently  known, 
imperfectly  understood,  or  misapplied.  It  is  quite  true,  that  in  many 
passages  the  teaching  of  the  Rabbis  is  compared  to  loater,^  l)ut  never 
to  a  '  well  of  water  springing  up.'  The  difference  is  very  great.  For 
it  is  the  boast  of  Rabbinism,  that  its  disciples  drink  of  the  waters  of 
their  teachers;  chief  merit  lies  in  receptiveness,  not  spontaneity,  and 
higher  praise  cannot  be  given  than  that  of  being  '  a  well-plastered 
cAb.  ii.  9  cistern,  which  lets  not  out  a  drop  of  water,' "  and  in  that  sense  to  '  a 
spring  whose  waters  ever  grow  stronger.'  But  this  is  quite  the 
opposite  of  what  our  Lord  teaches.  For,  it  is  only  true  of  what  man 
can  give  when  we  read  this  (in  Ecclus.  xxiv.  21):  '  They  that  drink 
me  shall  yet  be  thirsty.'  ^     More  closely,  related  to  the  words  of  Christ 

1  Those  who  wish  to  see  the  well-worn  sions  as  that  of  St.  Bn-nard  of  Clairraux 
Rabbinic  references  will  find  them  in  (followed  by  so  many  nioderu  hymuol- 
Lightfoot  and  Schbttgen  ad  loc.  ogists): 

2  There  is  much  spurious  religious  sen-  '  Qui  Te  gustaiit  esuriunt, 
timent  which,   in  contravention   to  our  Qui  bibunt  adhuc  sitiunt.' 
Lord's  saying,  delights  in  such  expres-  (Ap.  Daniel,  Thes.  i.  p.  223.) 


THE   NEW    SPlRlTfAL    LIFE   IN   THE   >^AMAUITAXESS.  413 

is  it,  wlicii  we  rrad-'  of  a  '  louiitaiii  of  wisdom; "  while,  in  llic  Tar^'uiii      CIIAI'. 
on  Cant.  iv.  14,  '  the  words  oi"  tiiu  Law"  arc  likened  'unto  a  well    of       ^ni 
living  waters. '  The  same  idea  was  carried  i)erhaps  even  further,  when,   ' — ~r — ■ 
at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  amidst  universal  rejoicing,  water  from  MnBar.m. 
Siloam  was  poured  from  a  golden  pitcher  on  the  altar,  as  emblem  of 
the  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Ghost. ^     But  the  saying  of  our  Lord  to 
the  Samaritaness  referred  neither  to  His  teaching,  nor  to  the  Holy 
Ghost,  nor  yet  to  faith,  but  to  the  gift  of  that  new  spiritual  life  in 
Him,  of  which  faith  is  but  the  outcome. 

M  the  humble,  ignorant  Samaritaness  had  formerly  not  seen, 
though  she  had  imperfectly  guessed,  that  there  was  a  higher  meaning 
in  the  words  of  Him  Who  spake  to  her,  a  like  mixture  of  ill-appre- 
hension and  rising  faith  seems  to  underlie  her  request  for  this  water, 
that  she  might  thirst  no  more,  neither  again  come  thither  to  draw.'^ 
She  now  believes  in  the  incredible;  believes  it,  because  of  Him  and 
in  Him;  believes,  also,  in  a  satisfaction  through  Him  of  outward 
wants,  reaching  up  beyond  this  to  the  everlasting  life.  But  all  these 
elements  are  yet  in  strange  confusion.  Those  wiio  know  how 
ditRcult  it  is  to  lodge  any  new  idea  in  the  mind  of  uneducated 
rustics  in  our  (jwn  land,  after  all  our  advantages  of  civilising 
contact  and  education,  will  understand,  how  utterly  at  a  loss  this 
Samaritan  countrywoman  must  have  been  to  grasp  the  meaning 
of  Jesus.  But  He  taught,  not  as  we  teach.  And  thus  He  reached 
her  heart  in  that  dimly  conscious  longing  which  she  expressed, 
though  her  intellect  was  incapable  of  distinguishing  the  new 
truth. 

Surely,  it  is  a  strange  mistake  to  find  in  her  w^ords"  'a  touch  bver.  is 
of  irony,'  while,  on  the  other  hand,  it  seems  an  exaggeration  to 
regard  them  simply  as  the  cry  of  realised  spiritual  need.  Though 
reluctantly,  a  somewhat  similar  conclusion  is  forced  upon  us  with 
reference  to  the  question  of  Jesus  about  the  woman's  husband,  her 
reply,  and  the  Saviour's  rejoinder.  It  is  difficult  to  suppose,  that 
Christ  asked  the  woman  to  call  her  husband  with  the  primary  object 
of  awakening  in  her  a  sense  of  sin.  This  might  follow,  but  the  text 
gives  no  hint  of  it.     Nor  does  anything  in  the  bearing  of  the  woman 

The  tlieoloay  of  tliis  is  not  only  sickly,  commentators,   any  extraui'diiiary  mark 

but  initrue  and  misknidinij.  of  risini;-  reverence  in  tlie  use  by  her  of 

1  Pee  'The  Temple  and  its  Ministry,'  the  word  '  Sir '  in  vv.  11  and  15.  It  seems 

pp.  241-243.  only  natural  in  the  circumstances. 

'^  I  cannot  bring  myself  to  see,  as  some 


414 


FROM    JOIJDAN    TO   THE    MOUNT    OF  TRANSFKjrRATION. 


IJOOK 
III 


vor.  19 
'  ver.  '29 


'  St.  John  : 
48,49 


''  Comp. 
St.  John 
vi.  6 


indicate  any  siu'li  eH'cct;  indeed,  her  i-ei)l\'  '  and  her  aiter-rel'crenec 
to  it''  rather  imply  the  contrary.  We  do  not  even  know  lor  certain, 
whether  the  five  i)reviou.s  husl)ands  had  died  or  divorced  her,  and,  it* 
the  latter,  with  whom  the  blame  lay,  although  not  only  the  peculiar 
mode  in  which  our  Lord  refers  to  it,  but  the  present  condition  of  the 
woman,  seem  to  point  to  a  sinful  life  in  the  past.  In  Judasa  a  course 
like  hers  would  have  been  almost  impossible;  but  wo  know  too  little 
of  the  social  and  moral  condition  of  Samaria  to  judge  of  what  might 
there  be  tolerated.  On  the  other  hand,  we  have  abundant  evidence 
that,  when  the  Saviour  so  unexpectedly  laid  open  to  her  a  past,  which 
He  could  only  supernaturally  have  known,  the  conviction  at  once 
arose  in  her  that  He  was  a  Prophet,  just  as  in  similar  circumstances 
it  had  been  forced  upon  Nathanael."  But  to  be  a  Prophet  meant  to  a 
Samaritan  that  He  was  the  Messiah,  since  they  acknowledged  none 
other  after  Moses,  Whether  or  not  the  Messiah  was  known  by  the 
present  Samaritan  designation  of  Him  as  *  the  Converter  '  and  '  the 
Returner'  (Restorer?),  is  of  comparatively  small  importance,  though, 
if  we  felt  certain  of  this,  the  influence  of  the  new  conviction  on  the 
mind  of  the  woman  would  appear  even  more  clearly.  In  any  case  it 
was  an  immense,  almost  immeasurable,  advance,  when  this  Samaritan 
recognised  in  the  stranger  Jew,  Who  had  first  awakened  within  her 
higher  thoughts,  and  pointed  her  to  spiritual  and  eternal  realities,  the 
Messiah,  and  this  on  the  strength  of  evidence  the  most  powerfull}'' 
convincing  to  a  mind  like  hers:  that  of  telling  her,  suddenly  and 
startlingly,  what  He  could  not  have  known,  except  through  higher 
than  human  means  of  information. 

It  is  another,  and  much  more  ditficult  question,  why  Jesus  should 
have  asked  for  the  presence  of  her  husband.  The  objection,  that 
to  do  so,  knowing  the  while  that  she  had  no  husband,  seems  un- 
worthy of  our  Lord,  may,  indeed,  be  answered  by  the  consideration, 
that  such  '  proving  '  of  those  who  were  in  His  training  was  in  accord- 
ance with  His  mode  of  teaching,  leading  upwards  by  a  series  of  moral 
questions,'^  But  perhaps  a  more  simple  explanation  may  otfer  even  a 
better  reply.  It  seems,  as  if  the  answer  of  verse  15  marked  the  utmost 
limit  of  the  woman's  comprehension.  We  can  scarcely  form  an  ade- 
quate notion  of  the  narrowness  of  such  a  mental  horizon  as  hers. 
This  also  explains,  at  least  from  one  aspect,  the  reason  of  His  speaking 
to  her  about  His  own  Messiahship,  and  the  worship  of  the  future,  in 
words  far  more  ])lain  than  He  used  to  His  own  disciples.  Xc)ne  but 
the  plainest  statements  could  she  grasp;  and  it  is  not  unnatural  to 
suppose  that,  having  reached  the  utmost  limits  of  which    she   was 


THE   riM)l'lIET    WHO   WAS   TIIH   MKSSIAII.  415 

capal)lo,  tlio  Saviour  now  ask('(l  lorhor  husl)aii(l.,  in  oi-dci'tluit,  tlirouii'h  (-map. 
the  introduction  of  another  so  near  to  her,  the  horizon  nii<ilit  )»-  ^'Hl 
enhiriicd.  This  is  also  substantially  the  view  of  some  of  the  Fathers.'  ^- — -r^"^ 
But,  if  Christ  was  in  earnest  in  asking  for  the  presence  of  her  husband, 
it  surely  cannot  be  irreverent  to  add,  that  at  that  moment  the  peculiar 
relationshi])  between  the  man  and  the  woman  did  not  stand  out  before 
His  mind.  Nor  is  there  anything  strange  in  this.  The  man  was, 
and  was  not,  her  husband.  Nor  can  we  be  sure  that,  although  un- 
married, the  relationship  involved  anything  absolutely  contrary  to  the 
law;  and  to  all  intents  the  man  might  be  known  as  her  husband. 
The  woman's  answer  at  once  drew  the  attention  of  the  Christ  to  this 
aspect  of  her  history,  which  immediately  stood  out  fully  before  His 
Divine  knowledge.  At  the  same  time  her  words  seemed  like  a 
confession — perhaps  we  should  say,  a  concession  to  the  demands  of 
her  own  conscience,  rather  than  a  confession.  Here,  then,  was  the 
required  opi)ortunity,  both  for  carrying  further  truth  to  her  mind,  by 
proving  to  her  that  He  Who  spake  to  her  was  a  Prophet,  and  at  the 
same  time  for  reaching  her  heart. 

But  whether  or  not  this  view  of  the  history  be  taken,  it  is  difficult 
to  understand,  how  any  sobei-  interpreter  could  see  in  the  five 
husbands  of  the  woman  either  a  symbolical,  or  a  mythical,  reference 
to  the  five  deities  whom  the  ancestors  of  the  Samaritans  worshipped,''  '2  Kings 

'■  '        '      xvii.  24:  &c. 

the  spurious  service  of  Jehovah  representing  the  husband,  yet  no 
husband,  of  the  woman.  It  is  not  worth  while  discussing  this 
strange  suggestion  from  any  other  than  the  mythical  standpoint. 
Those  who  regard  the  incidents  of  tlie  Gospel-narratives  as  myths, 
having  their  origin  in  Jewish  ideas,  are  put  to  even  greater  straits 
by  the  whole  of  this  narrative  than  they  who  regard  this  Gospel  as  of 
Ephesian  authorship.  We  may  put  aside  the  general  objections 
raised  by  Strauss,  since  none  of  his  successors  has  ventured  seriously 
to  urge  them.  It  is  more  important  to  notice,  how  signally  the 
author  of  the  mythical  theory  has  failed  in  suggesting  any  historical 
basis  for  this  '  myth.'  To  speak  of  nieetings  at  the  well,  such  as  those 
with  Rcbekahor  Zipporah,  is  as  much  beside  the  question  as  an  appeal 
to  Jewish  expectancy  of  an  omniscient  Messiah.  Out  of  these  two 
elements  almost  any  story  might  be  constructed.  Again,  to  say  that 
this  story  of  Jesus'  success  among  the  Samaritans  was  invented,  in 
order  to  vindicate  the  later  activity  of  the  Apostles  among  that 
people,  is  simply  to  beg  the  whole  (piestion.       In  these  straits  so 

'  Coiiip.  Liicke,  Evang.  .Joli.  vol.  i.  p.  588. 


416  Fi;().M   .rOllDAN   to   the   mount   of   TIIANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  (listiiiii-iiishcd  a -wi'iter  .as  7v'e//yi'  has  hazarded  tlic  statement:  'The 
111  meeting-  with  the  Samaritaness  has,  fur  every  one  who  lias  eyes,  only 
^- — -,' — '  a  symbolical  meaning,  by  the  side  of  which  no  historical  fact  exists.' 
An  assertion  this,  which  is  })erhaps  best  refuted  by  being  simply 
quoted.'^  On  the  other  hand,  of  all  the  myths  likely  to  enter  into 
Jewish  imagi-nation,  the  most  unlikely  would  be  one  representing  the 
Christ  in  familiar  converse  with  a  woman,  and  she  a  Samaritan,  offer- 
ing to  her  a  well  of  water  springing  into  everlasting  life,  and  setting 
before  her  a  spiritual  worshij)  of  which  Jerusalem  was  not  the  centre. 
Wliero  both  the  Ephesian  and  the  mythical  theory  so  signally  fail, 
shall  we  not  fall  back  upon  the  natural  explanation,  borne  out  by  the 
simplicity  and  naturalness  of  the  narrative — that  the  story  here 
related  is  real  and  true  ?  And,  if  so,  shall  we  not  all  the  more 
thankfully  gather  its  lessons  ? 

The  conviction,  sudden  but  firm,  that  He  Who  had  laid  open  the 
past  to  her  was  really  a  Prophet,  was  already  faith  in  Him  ;  and  so 
the  goal  had  been  attained — not,  perhaps,  faith  in  His  Messiahship, 
about  which  she  might  have  only  very  vague  notions,  l)ut  in  Him. 
And  faith  in  the  Christ,  not  in  anything  about  Him,  but  in  Himself, 
has  eternal  life.  Such  faith  also  leads  to  farther  inquiry  and  know- 
ledge. As  it  has  been  tlie  traditional  practice  to  detect  irony  in  this 
or  that  saying  of  the  woman,  or  else  to  impute  to  her  spiritual 
feelings  far  in  advance  of  her  possible  experience,  so,  on  the  other 
hand,  has  her  inquiry  about  the  place  of  {)ropcr  worship,  Jerusalem 
or  Gerizim,  been  unduly  depreciated.  It  is  indeed  too  true  that  those, 
whose  consciences  are  touched  b}^  a  presentation  of  their  sin,  often 
seek  to  turn  the  conversation  into  another  and  quasi-religious  channel. 
But  of  neither  the  one  nor  the  other  is  there  evidence  in  the  present 
case.  Similarly,  it  is  also  only  too  true,  that  their  one  point  of 
difference  is,  to  narrow-mindsd  sectarians,  their  all-in-all  of  religion. 
But  in  this  instance  we  feel  that  the  woman  has  no  after-thought,  no 
covert  purpose  in  what  she  asks.  All  her  life  long  she  had  heard  that 
Gerizim  was  the  mount  of  worship,  the  holy  hill  which  the  waters  of 
the  Flood  had  never  covered,^  and  that  the  Jews  were  in  deadly  error. 

'  The  references  here  are  to  Strroisfs,  ahuttin.a;  itself  up  against  faitli.     But  hi 

vol.  i.  pp.  510-519,  and  to  Keiin  i.  1,  p.  that  case  why  make  the  prhicipal  person 

116.  a   Samaritan,   and   not  a    heathen,   and 

'^  Meyer,   Komment.    vol.   ii.    p.    20s,  why  attribute  to  her  belief  in  a  Messiah, 

rightly  remarks  on  the  theory  of  Baar,  which  was  entirely  foreigu  to  heathen- 

Hih/ei/fchr,  itc.     Accordiug  to  them,  the  ism  ? 

whole  of  this  history  is  only  a  type  of         ^  Curiously  enough,  several  instances 

heathenism  as  receptive  to  faith,  in  con-  are    related    in    Rabljinic    writings    in 

trast  to  Nicodemus,  the  type  of  Judaism  which  Samaritans  enter  into  dispute  with 


THE    WORSHIP   IN   SPIRIT   AND   IN   TRUTH.  417 

But  liere  was  an  undoubted  Propliet,  and  He  a  Jew.    Were  they  then     CHAP, 
in  error  about  the  right  place  of  worslii}),  and  what  was  siic  to  think.       Vlii 
and  to  do?     To  apply  with  sueh  a  question  to  Jesus  was  already  to  ^ — ^r^^ 
tind  the  right  solution,  even  although  the  question  itself  might  indi- 
cate a  lower  mental  and  religious  standpoint.      It  reminds  us  of  the 
inquiry  which  the  healed  Naaman  put  to  Elisha  about  the  Temple  of 
Rimmon,  and  of  his  request  for  a  mule's  burden  of  earth  from  the 
land  of  the  True  God,  and  for  true  worship. 

Once  more  the  Lord  answers  her  question  by  leading  her  far 
beyond  it — beyond  all  controversy:  even  on  to  the  goal  of  all  His 
teaching.  So  marvellously  does  He  speak  to  the  simple  in  heart.  It 
is  best  here  to  sit  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,  and,  realising  the  scene,  to 
follow  as  His  Finger  points  onwards  and  upwards.  '  There  cometh 
an  hour,  when  neither  in  this  mountain,  nor  yet  in  Jerusalem,  ye  shall 
worship  the  Father.'  Words  of  sad  warning,  these;  words  of  pro- 
phecy also,  that  already  pointed  to  the  higher  solution  in  the 
worship  of  a  common  Father,  which  would  be  the  worship)  neither  of 
Jews  nor  of  Samaritans,  but  of  children.  And  yet  there  was  truth 
in  their  present  differences.  ^Ye  worship  ye  know  not  what:  we 
worship  what  we  know,  since  salvation  is  from  out  the  Jews. '  ^  The 
Samaritan  was  aimless  worship,  because  it  w^anted  the  goal  of  all 
the  Old  Testament  institutions,  that  Messiah  '  Who  was  to  be  of  the 
seed  of  David  '  ^ — for,  of  the  Jews,  '  as  concerning  the  flesh, '  was  Christ  » Rom.  i.  3 
to  come."  But  only  of  present  interest  could  such  distinctions  be;  •■Rom. ix.o 
for  an  hour  would  come,  nay,  already  Avas,  when  the  true  worshippers 
would  '  worship  the  Father  in  spirit  and  in  truth,  for  the  Father  also 
seeketh  such  for  His  worshippers.  Spirit  is  God  '  ^ — and  only  wor- 
ship in  spirit  and  in  truth  could  be  acceptable  to  such  a  God. 

Higher  or  more  Christlike  teaching  than  this  could  not  be  uttered. 
And  she  who  heard,  thus  far  understood  it,  that  in  the  glorious  pict- 

Rabbis  who  pass  by  Mount  Gerizim  on  under  the  heavens  were  covered,  and  so 

then- way  to  Jerusalem,  to  convince  tliem  .silenced   the  Samaritan.      (Deb.   R.    3; 

that   Gerizim   was   the   proper  place  of  comp.  Ber.  R.  .'52.)     On  the  other  hand,  it 

worship.      One    instance   may   liere   be  on.iiht  to  l)e  added,  that  in  Ber.  R.  X^  the 

mentioned,  when  a  Samaritan  maintained  Mount  of  Olives  is  .said  not  to  have  been 

that  Gerizim  was  the  mount  of  blessins;,  covered  by  the  Flood,  and   that  Ezek. 

because  it  was  not  covered  by  the  Flood,  xxii.  24  is  applied  to  this, 

ciuotina;  in  jn-oof  Ezek.  .xxii.    24.     The  '  He    had   formerly   tausht    her    the 

Rabbi  replied,  tiiat  if  such  had  been  the  '  where,''  and  now  teaches  her  the  •what,' 

case,  God  would  have  told  Noah  to  flee  of  true  worshij). 

there,  instead  of  making  an  ark.     The  -'  It  is  remarkable,  that  most  of  the 

Samaritan  retorted,  that  this  was  done  alterations  in  the  Samaritan  Pentateuch 

to  try  him.     Tiie  Rablii  was  silenced,  but  are  with  the  view  of  removing  anthro- 

his  nndctci'r  ajipealed  to  Gen.  vii.    1!).  pomorphisms. 
according;-  to    wliich   all   the   hiiih   hills 


418  FROiM    JOllDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TIIAXSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      uro,  which  was  set  before  her,  she  saw  the  coming  of  the  Kingdom 
in        of  the  Messiah.      '  I  know  that  Messiah  cometh/   When  He  cometh, 

' -r —    He  will  tell  us  all  things.'     It  was  then  that,  according  to  the  need 

of  that  untutored  woman,  He  told  her  plainly  what  in  Jud«a,  and 
even  by  His  disciples,  would  have  been  carnally  misinterpreted  and 
misapplied:  that  He  was  the  Messiah.  So  true  is  it,  that  •  babes'  can 
receive  what  often  must  remain  lung  hidden  '  from  the  wise  and 
prudent. ' 

It  was  the  crowning  lesson  of  that  day.  Nothing  more  could  be 
said;  nothing  more  need  be  said.  The  disciples  had  returned  from 
Sychar.  That  Jesus  should  converse  with  a  woman,  was  so  contrary 
to  all  Juda^an  notions  of  a  Rabbi,'  that  they  wondered.  Yet,  in  their 
reverence  for  Him,  they  dared  not  ask  any  questions.  Meanwhile  the 
woman,  forgetful  of  her  errand,  and  only  conscious  of  that  new  well- 
spring  of  life  which  had  risen  within  her,  had  left  the  unfilled  water- 
pot  by  the  Well,  and  hurried  into  'the  City.'  They  were  strange 
tidings  which  she  brought;  the  very  mode  of  her  announcement 
affording  evidence  of  their  truth:  'Come,  see  a  man  who  told  me 
all  that  I  have  done.  No — is  this  the  Christ?'  We  are  led  to 
infer,  that  these  strange  tidings  soon  gathered  many  around  her;  that 
they  questioned,  and,  as  they  ascertained  from  her  the  indisputable 
fact  of  His  superhuman  knowledge,  believed  on  Him,  so  far  as  the 

»vv.  39, 40     woman  could  set  Him  before  them  as  object  of  faith.''     Under  this 
impression  '  they  went  out  of  the  City,  and  came  on  their  way  to- 

b  ver.  30       wards  Him.  "  ^ 

Meantime  the  disciples  had  urged  the  Master  to  eat  of  the  food 
which  they  had  brought.  But  His  Soul  was  otherwise  engaged. 
Thoughts  were  present  of  the  glorious  future,  of  a  universal  worship  of 
the  Father  by  those  whom  He  had  taught,  and  of  which  He  had  just 
seen  such  unexpected  earnest.  These  mingled  with  feelings  of  pain  at 
the  spiritual  dulness  of  those  by  whom  He  was  surrounded,  who  could 
see  in  that  conversation  with  a  Samaritan  woman  nothing  but  a 
strange  innovation    on  Rabbinic    custom    and    dignity,    and    now 

1  The  words  'whicli  is  called  Christ'  bidden;  comp.  the  story  in  Bemid.  R.  9. 
should  l)e  within  brackets,  and  are  the  "  Following  the  suggestion  of  Professor 
explanation  of  the  writer.  Westroft.    I  would  thus  give   the  real 

2  In  the  original,  ver.  31  has  it: 'Rabbi  meaning  of  the  original.  It  may  save 
(not  Master),  eat.'  Surely  such  an  needless  notes  if  I  add,  that  where  the 
address  to  Christ  is  sufficiently  anti-  rendering  difters  from  the  A.V.  the 
Ephesian.  Readers  know  how  thoroughly  change  has  been  intentional,  to  l)ring 
opposed  to  .Jewish  notions  was  any  need-  out  the  meaning  of  the  Greek;  and  that 
less  converse  with  a  woman  (com]i.  Ab.  i.  where  words  in  the  A.V.  are  omitted,  it 
5 ;  Ber.  43 /^ ;  Kidd.  70  a;  also  Erub.  53  Z^).  is  because  they  are  either  spurious,  or 
To  instruct  a  woman  in  the  Law  was  for-  doubtful. 


FOUR   MONTHS   AND   THE   HARVEST   COMETH. 


419 


thought  of  notliiug  beyond   tlie   immediate  errand   on    which   they     CHAP, 
had  gone  to  Sychar.       Even  His  words  of  rebuke  only  made  them       vni 
wonder  whether,  unknown  to  them,  some  one  liad  l)rought  Ilim  food.  ^-^ — -^.' — 
It  was  not  the  only,  nor  the  last,  instance  of  their  dulness  to  spir- 
itual realities."  "st.  Matt. 

...  .  xvi.  6,  7 

Yet  with  Divme  patience  He  bore  with  them:  'My  meat  is,  that 
I  may  do  the  Will  of  Him  that  sent  Me,  and  that  I  may  accomplish 
(bring  to  a  perfect  end)  His  work.'  To  the  disciples  that  work 
appeared  still  in  the  far  future.  To  them  it.  seemed  as  yet  little 
more  than  seed-time;  the  green  blade  was  only  sprouting;  the 
harvest  of  such  a  Messianic  Kingdom  as  they  expected  was  still 
months  distant.  To  correct  their  mistake,  the  Divine  Teacher,  as 
so  often,  and  as  best  adapted  to  His  hearers,  chose  His  illustration 
from  what  was  visible  around.  To  show  their  meaning  more  clearly, 
we  venture  to  reverse  the  order  of  the  sentences  which  Jesus  spoke: 
'  Behold,  I  say  unto  you,  lift  up  your  eyes  and  look  [observantly]  at 
the  tields,  that  they  are  white  to  the  harvest.  [But]  do  ye  not  say 
(viz.  in  your  hearts ')  that  there  are  yet  four  months,  and  the  harvest 
cometh? '  The  words  will  appear  the  more  striking,  if  (with 
Professor  Westcott)  we  bear  in  mind  that,  perhaps  at  that  very 
moment,  the  Samaritans,  coming  to  Him  from  Sychar,  were  appearing 
in  sight. 

But  we  also  regard  it  as  marking  the  time,  when  this  conversa- 
tion took  place.  Generally  the  words,  '■  yet  four  months,  and  then 
cometh  the  harvest,'  are  regarded  either  as  a  proverbial  expression, 
or  as  indicating,  that  the  Lord  spake  at  the  Well  of  Jacob  four 
months  before  the  harvest-time — that  is,  about  the  month  of  January, 
if  the  barley-harvest,  or  in  February,  if  the  wheat-harvest,  was 
meant.  The  suggestion  that  it  was  a  proverb  may  be  dismissed, 
tirst,  because  there  is  not  a  trace  of  such  a  proverb,  and  then  because, 
to  give  it  even  the  scantiest  meaning,  it  is  necessary  to  supply: 
'  Between  seed-time  and  harvest  there  are  four  months,'  which  is  not 
true,  since  in  Palestine  about  six  months  intervene  between  thein. 
On  the  other  hand,  for  reasons  explained  in  another  place,  ^  we 
conclude,  that  it  could  not  have  been  January  or  February  when 
Jesus  was  in  Sychar.  But  why  not  reverse  the  common  theory,  and 
see  in  the  second  clause,  introduced  by  the  words,  'Behold!  lift  up 
your  eyes  and  observe,'  a  mark  of  the  time  and  circumstances;  while 
the  expression,  '  Do  ye  not  say,  There  are  yet  four  months,  and  then 

1  This  is  a  Hebraism.  "''  See  tlieiu  in  Appendix  XV. 


420  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  coiiicth  harvest, '  would  be  understood  as  parabolically  spoken?  Admit- 
in  tedly,  one  of  iiie  two  clauses  is  a  literal  mark  of  time,  and  the  other  is 
^— -^r^^  spoken  i)aral)olically.  But  there  is  no  reason  why  the  second  clause 
may  not  mark  the  time,  while  on  independent  grounds  we  must 
conclude,'  that  Christ  returned  Irom  Judaea  to  Galilee  in  the  early 
summer. 

Passing  from  this  point,  we  notice  how  the  Lord  further  unfolded 
His  own  lesson  of  present  harvesting,  and  their  inversion  of  what 
was  sowing,  and  what  reaping  time.  '  Already '  ^  he  that  reajjcd 
received  wages,  and  gathered  fruit  unto  eternal  life  (which  is  the 
real  reward  of  the  Great  Reaper,  the  seeing  of  the  travail  of  His 
soul),  so  that  in  this  instance  the  sower  rejoiced  equally^  as  the 
reaper.  And,  in  this  respect,  the  otherwise  cynical  proverb,  that  one 
was  the  sower,  another  the  reaper  of  his  sowing,  found  a  true  appli- 
cation. It  was  indeed  so,  that  the  servants  of  Christ  were  sent  to 
reap  what  others  had  sown,  and  to  enter  into  their  labour.  One  had 
sowed,  another  would  reap.  And  yet,  as  in  this  instance  of  the 
Samaritans,  the  sower  would  rejoice  as. well  as  the  reaper;  nay,  both 
would  rejoice  together,  in  the  gathered  fruit  unto  eternal  life.  And 
so  the  sowing  in  tears  is  on  the  spiritual  field  often  mingled  with  the 
harvest  of  gladness,  and  to  the  spiritual  view  both  are  really  one. 
'Four  months'  do  not  intervene  between  them;  so  that,  althougli 
one  may  sow  and  another  reap,  yet  the  sower  seeth  that  harvest  for 
which  the  harvester  gets  wages,  and  rejoices  with  him  in  the  fruit 
wdiich  is  gathered  into  the  eternal  storehouse. 

It  was  as  Christ  had  said.  The  Samaritans,  who  believed 
'  because  of  the  word  '  (speech)  '  of  the  woman  [what  she  said]  as  she 
testified  '  of  the  Christ,  '  when  they  came '  to  that  well,  '  asked  Him 
to  abide  with  them.  And  He  abode  there  two  days.  And  many  more 
believed  because  of  His  own  word  (speech,  discourse),  and  said  unto 
the    woman:  No   longer   because  of  thy    speaking*  do    we   believe. 

1  Comp.  Appendix  XV.  the  reaper.'     But  the  translation  in  tlie 

■''  We  follow  Canon  Westcott,  who.  for  text   seems   to  agree  better   with  what 

reasons  explained  by  him.  joins  the  word  follows.     The  whole  passage  is  perhaps 

'  already '  to  ver.  3G,  omitting  the  parti-  one  of  the  most  difficult,  from  tlie  curt- 

cle  '  and.'  ness  and  rai)id  transition  of  the  sentences. 

^  It  will  be  noticed  that,  in  ver.  3fi,  Iva  Tlie  only  apology  which   I  can  oti'er  for 

has  been  translated   -so  that,'  the  Kai  proposing  a  new  rendering   and  anew 

omitted,  and  6/<ou  rendered  'equally  as.'  interpretation  is,  that  those  with  which  I 

Linguistically,  no  apology  is  required  for  am   acquainted  have  not  conveyed   any 

these  renderings.     I,  however,    hesitate  distinct  or  connected  meaning  to  my  own 

between  tills  and  the  rendering:   '  in  or-  mind, 
der  that  the  sower  may  rejoice  along  witli  *  AcrA/a,  speech,  talking. 


TWO   DAYS   IX   SAMARIA.  421 

Foi-Ave  ourselves  have  heard,  and  know,  lliat  this  is  truly  the  Saviour     chap. 
of  the  world."  Viii 

We  know  not  what  passed  these  two  days.  Apparently  no  miraeles  ^— ^.-^-^ 
were  wrought,  but  those  of  His  Word  only.  It  was  the  deepest  and 
purest  truth  they  learned,  these  simple  men  of  simple  faith,  who  had 
not  learned  of  man,  but  listened  to  His  Word  only.  The  sower  as 
well  as  the  reaper  rejoiced,  and  rejoiced  together.  Seed-time  and 
harvest  mingled,  when  for  themselves  they  knew  and  confessed,  that 
this  was  truly  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

1  We   have   omitted    the  words  'the      as  faithfully  as  possible,  so  as  to  bring 
Christ,'  ill  ver.  42.  as  appareiitl^y  spurious,      out  the  real  meaoiDg. 
lu  general,  the  text  has  been  rendered 


422 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER   IX. 


BOOK 
III 


=^  St.  John 
iv.  45 


^  St.  Matt. 
iv.  12 

«  St.  Mark 
i.  U 

■J  St.  Luke 
Iv.  It 


<:  St.  Matt, 
iv.  17 


fRt.  Marki. 
15 


THE  SECOND  VISIT  TO  CANA — CURE  OP  THE   '  NOBLEMAN'S  '  SON 
AT  CAPERNAUM. 

(St.  Matt.  iv.  12;  St.  Mark  i.  U;  St.  Luke  iv.  14,  15;  St.  John  iv.  43-54.) 

The  brief  harvest  in  Samaria  was,  as  Jesus  had  indicated  to  His 
disciples,  in  another  sense  also  the  beginning  of  sowing-time,  or  at 
least  that  when  the  green  blade  first  appeared  aljove  ground.  It 
formed  the  introduction  to  that  Galilean  ministry,  when  '  the  Galileans 
received  Him,  having  seen  all  the  things  that  He  did  at  Jerusalem 
at  the  Feast. ' "  Nay,  in  some  respects,  it  was  the  real  beginning  of 
His  Work  also,  which,  viewed  as  separate  and  distinct,  couimenced 
when  the  Baptist  Avas  cast  into  prison.^  Accordingly,  this  circum- 
stance is  specially  marked  by  St,  Matthew,''  and  by  St.  Mark,"  while 
St.  Luke,  as  if  to  give  greater  emphasis  to  it,  abrui)tly  connects  this 
beginning  of  Christ's  sole  and  separate  Work  with  the  history  of  the 
Temptation.'^  All  that  intervened  seems  to  him  but  introductory, 
that  '  beginning  '  which  might  be  summed  up  by  the  words,  '  in  the 
power  of  the  Spirit,'  with  which  he  describes  His  return  to  Galilee. 
In  accordance  with  this  view,  Christ  is  presented  as  taking  up  the 
message  of  His  Forerunner,''  only  with  wider  sweep,  since,  instead  of 
adding  to  His  announcement  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  and  call  to 
repentance  that  to  a  Baptism  of  preparation.  He  called  those  who 
heard  Him  to  'believe  the  Gospel'  which  He  brought  them.' 

But  here  also,— as  Eusebius  had  already  noted '^ — the  Fourth 
Gospel,  in  its  more  comprehensive  presentation  of  the  Christ,  as  add- 
ing, not  merely  in  the  external  succession  of  events,  but  in  tlieir  in- 
ternal connection,  feature  to  feature  in  the  portraiture  of  the  Divine 
Redeemer,  supplies  the  gap  in  the  Synoptic  narratives,  which  so  often 
read  only  like  brief  historical  summaries,  witli  here  and  there  special 


1  The  hLstory  of  the  Baptist's  imprison- 
ment will  he  uciveii  in  the  sequel. 

'^  The  orii^in.  authorship,  and  occasion 
of  the  Synoi)tic  Gospels  and  of  that  ])y 
St.  John,  as  well  as  tlielr  interrelation,  is 


discussed  in  Enfteh.  Hist.  Eccles.  iii.  24, 
the  discussion  beins  the  more  im]iortant 
that  Eusebius  throughout  appeals  for  his 
statements  to  '  the  testimony  of  the  an- 
cients.' 


THE   SECOND    \'1SIT   TO   CANA. 


423 


('l)is()(k's  or  reports  of  teaching  inserted.  For  St.  John  not  only  lelis  us 
of  that  early  Ministry,  wiiieh  the  Synoptists  designedly  i)ass  over, 
but  while,  like  tlieni,  referring  to  the  captivity  of  John  as  the  occasion 
of  Christ's  witlidrawal  from  the  machinations  of  the  Pharisaic  party 
in  Juda?a,  he  joins  this  departure  from  Juda?a  with  the  return  to 
Galilee  by  supplying,  as  connecting  link,  the  brief  stay  in  Samaria 
with  its  eventful  results.  St.  John,  also,  alone  supplies  the  first- 
recorded  event  of  this  Galilean  ministry. "^  We  therefore  follow  his 
guidance,  simply  noting  that  the  various  stages  of  this  Galilean  resi- 
dence should  be  grouped  as  follows:  Cana,^  Nazareth,"  and  Capernaum, 
with  general  itineration  from  that  centre.'^  The  period  occupied,  b}' 
what  is  thus  briefly  indicated  in  the  Gospels,  was  from  early  summer, 
say,  the  beginning  of  June,  to  the  unnamed  'feast  of  the  Jews.' "  If 
it  is  objected,  that  the  events  seem  too  few  for  a  period  of  about  three 
months,  the  obvious  answer  is,  that,  during  most  of  this  time,  Jesus 
was  in  great  measure  unattended,  since  the  call  of  the  Apostles* 
only  took  place  after  the  *  unnamed  feast;'  that,  indeed,  they  had  prob- 
ably returned  to  their  homes  and  ordinary  occupations  when  Jesus 
went  to  Nazareth, °  and  that  therefore,  not  having  themselves  been 
eye-witnesses  of  what  had  passed,  they  confined  themselves  to  a 
general  summary.  At  the  same  time,  St.  Luke  expressly  marks  that 
Jesus  taught  in  the  various  Synagogues  of  Galilee,''  and  also  that  He 
made  a  longer  stay  in  Capernaum.' 

When  Jesus  returned  to  Galilee,  it  was  in  circumstances  entirely 
different  from  those  under  which  He  had  left  it.  As  He  Himself  said," 
there  had,  perhaps  naturally,  been  prejudices  connected  with  the 
humbleness  of  His  upbringing,  and  the  familarity  engendered  by 
knowledge'  of  His  home-surroundings.  These  were  overcome,  when 
the  Galileans  had  witnessed  at  the  feast  in  Jerusalem,  what  He  had 
done.  Accordingly,  they  were  now  prepared  to  receive  Him  with  the 
reverent  attention  which  His  Word  claimed.  We  may  conjecture, 
that  it  was  partially  for  reasons  such  as  these  that  He  first  bent  His 
steps  to  Cana.  The  miracle,  which  had  there  been  wrought,"'  would 
still  further  prepare  the  people  for  His  preaching.  Besides,  this  was 
the  home  of  Nathanael,  who  had  probably  followed  Him  to  Jerusalem, 
and  in  whose  house  a  gladsome  homage  of  welcome  would  now  await 
Him.  It  was  here  that  the  second  recorded  miracle  of  His  Galilean 
ministry  was  wrought,  with  what  effect  upon  the  wdiole  district,  may 

'  I  cannot  believe  that  the  expression  I'Sin?  ('his  own').    Conip.  St.  Matt.  Ix.  1; 

'  His  own  country,'  refers  to  .Juda'a.  Such  also  St.  John  vii.  40-42.     Sfj-anss's  arc;u- 

an  explanation  is  not  only  unnatural,  but  nients  (T^eben  Jesu,  i.  p.  65!))  seem  here 

contrary  to  the  usage  of  the  expression  conclusive. 


CHAP 
IX 


"  St.  .Ti)hn 
iv.  4:^-54 


•'  St.  John 

iv.  45-54 

"  St.  Luke 
iv.  10-30 

<!  St.  Matt, 
iv.  i:i-17; 
St.  Mark  i. 
14,  15 :  St. 
Luke  iv.  31, 
32 

<■  St.  John 

V.  1 

f  St.  Matt, 
iv.  18-22  &c. 


c  St.  Luke 
iv.  16 


'■  St.  Luke 
iv.  15 

:  St.  Luke 

iv.  ol : 

comi). 

St.  Matt.  iv. 

13-16 

>'  St.  John 
iv.  44 


">  St.  John 
ii.  1-11 


424 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


» St.  Luke 
iv.  23 


b  Ber.  34  6 ; 
Jer.Ber.9  d. 


be  judged  from  the  expectancies  Mliicli  tlie  fame  of  it  excited  even  in 
Nazareth,  the  city  of  His  early  ui)l)ringing.'' 

It  appears  that  the  sou  of  one  of  Herod  Antipas'  officers,  either 
civil  or  military,^  was  sick,  and  at  the  point  of  death.  When  tidings 
reached  the  father  that  the  Pro})het,  or  more  than  Prophet,  AVhose 
fame  had  preceded  Him  to  Galilee,  Inid  come  to  Cana,  he  resolved,  in 
his  despair  of  other  means,  to  apply  to  Him  for  the  cnre  of  His  child. 
Nothing  can  be  gained  for  the  spiritual  interest  of  this  or  any  other 
Biblical  narrative,  by  exaggeration;  l)ut  much  is  lost,  when  the 
historical  demands  of  the  case  are  overlooked.  It  is  not  fhun  any 
disljolief  in  the  supernatural  agency  at  work,  that  we  insist  on  the 
natural  and  rational  sequence  of  events.  And  having  done  so,  wo 
can  all  the  more  clearly  mark,  by  the  side  of  the  natural,  the  distinc- 
tively higher  elements  at  work.  Accordingly,  we  do  not  assume  that 
this  '  court-officer '  was  actuated  by  spiritual  belief  in  the  Son  of  God, 
when  applying  to  Him  for  help.  Rather  would  we  go  to  almost  the 
opposite  extreme,  and  regard  him  as  simply  actuated  by  what,  in  the 
circumstances,  might  be  the  views  of  a  devout  Jew.  Instances  are 
recorded  in  the  Talmud,  which  may  here  serve  as  our  guide.  Yarious 
cases  are  related  in  which  those  seriously  ill,  and  even  at  the  point  of 
death,  were  restored  by  the  prayers  of  celebrated  Rabbis.  One 
instance  is  specially  illustrative.*  We  read  that,  when  the  son  of 
Rabban  Gamaliel  was  dangerously  ill,  he  sent  two  of  his  disciples  to 
one  Chanina  ben  Dosa  to  entreat  his  prayers  for  the  restoration  of  liis 
son.  On  this,  Chanina  is  said  to  have  gone  up  to  the  Aliyah  (upper 
chamber)  to  pray.  On  his  return,  he  assured  the  messengers  that  the 
young  man  was  restored,  grounding  his  confidence,  not  on  the  posses- 
sion of  any  prophetic  gift,  but  on  the  circumstance  that  he  knew  his  re- 
quest was  answered  from  the  freedom  he  had  in  prayer.  The  messengers 
noted  down  the  hour,  and  on  their  arrival  at  the  house  of  Gamaliel 
found,  that  at  that  very  hour  '  the  fever  left  him,  and  he  asked  for 
water.'  Thus  far  the  Rabbinic  story.  Even  supposing  that  it  was 
either  invented  or  coloured  in  imitation  of  the  New  Testament,  it 
shoAvs,  at  least,  what  a  devout  Jew  might  deem  lawful  to  expect  from 
a  celebrated  Rabbi,  who  was  regarded  as  having  power  in  prayer. 

Having  indicated  the  illustrated  part  of  this  story,  we  may  now 
mark  the  contrast  between  it  and  the  event  in  the  Gospels.  There 
restoration  is  not  merely  asked,  ])ut  expected,  and  that,  not  in  answer 


'  fiaaiXiKo?,  used  by  .Tosepluis  in  the 
freneral  senst;  of  otlicers  in  the  service  of 
Herod  Antipas.     Com;).  Kn^hs,  Obs.  in 


N.  Test,  e  Fl.  .Joseplio,  pp.  144,  145, 
wlio  notes  tliat  tlie  expression  occurs  (iOO 
times  in  tlie  writings  of  Josephus. 


THE    rilAYER   OF   THE   COUHT-OFFICTAL.  425 

to   prayer,  but  by   Christ's  Personal  jjrcsence.      IJ'it  the  li'reat  and      riiAl\ 
vital  contrast  lies,  alike  in  what  was  thoug-ht  ot"  Ilini  AVho  was  instru-         IX 
mental  in  the  cure — perlbnned  it — and  in  the  min-M  ellects  wliich  it   "■— -^r — ' 
wroug'ht.     The  history  just  quoted  i'roni  the  Talmud  is  immedialely 
followed  by  another  of  similar    imi)ort,   when    a    celebrated   Kabl»i 
accounts  on  this  wise  for  his  inaljility  to  do  that  in  which  Chaiiina 
had  succeeded,  that  Chanina  was  like  'a  servant  of  the  Kina,-,'  who  went 
in  and  out  familiarly,  and  so  mit>htbeg-  favours;  while  he  (the  failin<^' 
Rabbi)  was  '  like  a  lord  before  the  King,'  who  would  not  l)e  accorded 
mere  favours,  l)ut  discussed  matters  on  a  footing  of  ecjuality.     'Hii.s 
profane  representation  of  the  relation  between  God  and  His  servants, 
the  utterly  unspiritual  view  of  prayer  Avhich  it  displays,  and  the  daring 
self-exaltation    of  the    Ka1)l)i,    surely    mark  sufficiently  an  absolute 
contrast  in  spirit  between  the  Jewish  view  and  that  which  underlies 
the  Evangelic  narrative. 

Enough  has  been  said  to  show,  that  the  application  to  Jesus  on 
the  part  of  the  '  royal  officer '  did  not,  in  the  peculiar  circumstances, 
lie  absolutely  beyond  the  range  of  Jewish  ideas.  What  the  'court- 
officer  '  exactly  expected  to  be  done,  is  a  question  secondary  to  that 
of  his  state  of  reeeptiveness,  as  it  may  be  called,  which  was  the  nu)ral 
condition  alike  of  the  outward  help,  and  of  the  inward  blessing  Avhich 
he  received.  One  thing,  however,  it  is  of  importance  to  notice.  We 
must  not  suppose,  that  when,  to  the  request  that  Jesus  would  come 
down  to  Capernaum  to  perform  the  cure,  the  Master  replied,  that 
unless  they  saw  ^  signs  and  wonders  they  would  not  believe.  He 
meant  thereby  to  convey  that  his  Jev.ish  hearers,  in  oi)position  to 
the  Samaritans,  required  'signs  and  Avonders'in  order  to  believe. 
For  the  application  of  'the  officer'  was  itself  an  expression  of  fait  li, 
although  impei'fect.  Besides,  the  cure,  which  was  the  object  of  the 
application,  could  not  have  been  performed  without  a  miracle.  AN'liat 
the  Saviour  reproved  was  not  the  nnpiest  for  a,  miracle,  which  was 
necessary,  but  the  urgent  plea  that  lie  should  come  down  to  Cai)er- 
naum  for  that  purpose,  which  the  father  afterwards  so  earnestly 
repeated.*  That  request  argued  ignorance  of  the  real  character  of  "vrr.io 
the  Christ,  as  if  He  were  either  merely  a  Rabbi  endowed  with  sjjccial 
power,  or  else  a  miracle-monger.  What  He  intended  to  teach  this 
man  Avas,  that  He,  Who  had  life  in  Himself,  could  restore  life  at  a 
distance  as  easily  as  by  His  rresence;  by  the  word  of  his  Power  as 
readily  as  by  personal  application.     A  lesson  this  of  the  deepest  im- 

'  Tlie  emphasis  must  lie  on  tiie  word      tions  to  this  (Ev.  Job.  i.  }).  G22)  are  not 
'see,"  yet  not  exclusively.   LRc/l-c's  oMjec-      well  founded. 


426 


KROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  ver.  50 
''  vor.  53 


'•  St.  .Tohn  ; 
vi.  50,  51 


'1  St.  Matt, 
viii.  5  fzc. ; 
SI.  Luke 
vii.  1  *ic. 


portance,  as  regarded  the  Person  ol'  Clirist;  a  lesson,  also,  of  the 
widest  ai)j)lieati()n  to  us  and  for  all  cireunistanees,  temporal  and 
si)iritiial.  When  the  '  eourt-officer  '  had  learned  this  lesson,  he  be- 
eanie  'obedient  nnto  the  faith,'  and  'went  his  way, '  "  presently  to 
lind  his  laith  both  erowned  and  perfected."  And  when  both  '  he  and 
his  liouse'had  learned  that  lesson,  they  would  never  afterwards 
tliink  of  the  Christ  either  as  tlie  Jews  did,  who  siin])ly  witnessed  His 
miracles,  or  unsi)iritually.  It  was  the  completion  of  that  teaching 
which  had  first  come  to  Xathanael,  the  first  believer  of  Cana."  So, 
also,  is  it  when  we  have  learned  that  lesson,  that  we  come  to  know 
alike  the  meaning  and  the  blessedness  of  believing  in  Jesus. 

Indeed,  so  far  as  its  moral  import  is  concerned,  the  whole  history 
turns  ui)on  this  i)oint.  It  also  marks  the  fundamental  difi'crence 
between  this  and  the  somewhat  similar  history  of  the  healing  of  the 
Centurion's  servant  in  Cai)ernauni.''  Critics  have  noticed  marked 
divergences  in  almost  every  detail  of  the  two  narratives,'  which 
some — both  orthodox  and  negative  interpreters — have  so  strangely 
represented  as  only  ditferent  presentations  of  one  and  the  same 
event.'^  But,  besides  these  marketl  differences  of  detail,  tliere  is  also 
fundamental  difference  in  the  substance  of  the  narratives,  and  in  the 
spirit  of  the  two  applicants,  which  made  the  Saviour  in  the  one 
instance  reprove  as  the  re(]uirement  of  sight,  which  b}'  itself  could 
only  produce  a  transitory  faith,  that  which  in  the  other  He  marvelled 
at  as  greatness  of  faith,  for  which  He  had  in  vain  looked  in  Israel. 
The  great  point  in  the  history  of  the  '  court-officer '  is  Israel's  mis- 
taken view  of  the  Person  and  Work  of  the  Christ.  That  in  the 
narrative  of  the  Centurion  is  the  preparedness  of  a  simple  faith, 
unencnmliered  by  Jewish  realism,  although  the  outcome  of  Jewish 
teaching.  The  carnal  realism  of  the  one,  which  looks  for  signs  and 
"wonders,  is  contrasted  with  the  simplicity  and  straightforwardness  of 
the  other.  Lastly,  the  point  in  tlie  histoi-y  of  the  Syro-Phrcnician 
woman,  which  is  sometimes  confounded  with  it,^  is  the  intensitv  of 


>  These  will  readily  occur  on  com- 
parison of  the  two  narratives.  Arch- 
deacon Wdtkiiis  {ad  loc.)  has  ^'rouped 
these  under  ei,2:ht  distinct  particulars. 
Conip.  Lilc/rt'  (Ev.  Joh.)  i.  ]>.   626. 

■•^  So  partially  and  hesitatin.2;ly  Orig'en, 
C/iri/sosfoiH,  and  more  decidedly  f/ieo- 
p/n/i(s,  Eiitlnjmiiis,  Ireno'xs,  and  Ense- 
biiis.  All  modern  negative  critics  hold 
this  view;  but  Gfrorey  regards  the  nar- 
rative of  St.  John,  Strauss  and  Weiss 
that  of  St.  Matthew,  as  the  original  ac- 


count. And  yet  Kehn  ventures  to  assert : 
'  Ohne  alien  Zweifel  (!)  ist  das  die  selbe 
Geschichte.' 

^  Alike  Sfrmiss  and  Keim  discuss  this 
at  some  length  from  the  point  of  view  of 
seeming  contradiction  between  the  re- 
ception of  the  heatlien  Centurion  and  the 
first  refusal  of  the  Syro-I'luenlcian 
woman.  Keim's  treatment  of  tlie  whole 
subject  seems  to  me  inconsistent  with  it- 
self. 


THE   MIRACULOUS   CURE. 


427 


the  same  i'aitli  ^\ili('ll,   despite    (liscoiii-aiionieiits,   nay,   secniiusi  im-      chap. 
probabilities,  liolds  fast  by  the  conviction  which  lier  spiritual  instinct         IX 

had  grasped — that   such   an   One   as  Jesus    must    be    not   (Uily.  the   ' , — 

Messiah  of  the  Jews,  but  the  Savioui'  of  the  world. 

We  may  as  well  here  comi)lete  our  critical  notices,  at  least  as 
concerns  those  views  which  have  of  late  been  propounded.  The 
extreme  school  of  negative  critics  seems  here  involved  in  hoi)eless 
self-contradiction,  P'or,  if  this  narrative  of  a  Jewish  courtier  is  really 
only  antither  recension  of  that  of  the  heathen  centurion,  iiow  ccnncs 
it  that  the  'Jewish'  (J()Si)el  of  St.  Matthew  makes  a  Gentile,  while 
the  so-called  'anti-Jewish,'  '  Ephesian '  Gospel  of  St.  John  makes  a 
Jeiv,  the  hero  of  the  story?  As  signally  does  the  '  mythical "  theory 
break  down.  For,  admittedly,  there  is  no  Kabbinic  basis  for  the 
invention  of  such  a  story;  and  by  far  the  ablest  representative  of  the 
negative  school'  has  conclusively  shown,  that  it  could  not  have  origi- 
nated in  an  imitation  of  the  Old  Testament  account  of  Xaaman's 
cure  by  Elisha  the  prophet.^  But,  if  Christ  had  really  spoken  those 
words  to  the  courtier,  as  this  critic  seems  to  admit,  there  remains 
only,  as  he  puts  it,  this  ^trilemma: '  either  He  could  really  work  the 
miracle  in  question;  or,  lie  spoke  as  a  mere  fanatic;  or  else,  .He 
was  simply  a  deceiver.  It  is  a  relief  to  find  that  the  two  last 
hypotheses  are  discarded.  But,  as  negative  criticism^may  we  not 
say,  from  the  same  spirit  which  Jesus  reproved  in  the  courtier — is 
unwilling  to  admit  that  Jesus  really  wrought  this  miracle,  it  is  sug- 
gested in  explanation  of  the  cure,  that  the  sick  child,  to  whom  the 
father  had  communicated  his  intended  application  to  Jesus,  had  been 
in  a  state  of  expectancy  which,  when  the  courtier  returned  with  the 
joyous  assurance  that  the  request  Avas  granted,  issued  in  actual  re- 
covery.'' To  this  there  is  the  obvious  answer,  that  the  explanation 
wants  the  first  requirement — that  of  an  historical  basis.  There  is 
not  a  tittle  of  evidence  that  the  child  expected  a  cure;  while,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  narrative  expressly  states  that  he  was  cured  before 
his  father's  return.  And,  if  the  narrative  may  be  altered  at  will  to 
suit  the  necessities  of  a  groundless  hypothesis,  it  is  difficult  to  see 
which,  or  whether  any,  part  of  it  should  be  retained.  It  is  not  so 
that  the  origin  of  a  faith,  which  has  transformed  the  world,  can  be 

'  Keim,  .Tesu  v.  Nazara,  H.  i.  pp.  179-  he  means  tluit  tlie  faith  of  tliecliild  alone 

185.     I  regret  to  say,  that  the  laugiiage  brougiit  abont  (lie  cnre.  in  which  case 

of  Keim  at  p.  181  is  among  the  most  there  was  no  need  for  the  fathers  journey, 

painful  in  his  boolc.  Kciin  naively  asks,  what  objections  there 

'^  So  .SYrrr ».«.**.  Leben  Jesu,  vol.  ii.  \)\).  can  be  to  this  view,  unless  for  the  '  word- 

121,  122  (1st  ed.).  ing  of  St.  ,Iohn  '  ?     But  the  whole  narra- 

^  At  least  I  so  understand  Keim,  unless  five  is  derived  from  that  •  wording.' 


428  Fmm    JOIiDAN    TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      explained.     But  we  have  here  another  evidence  of  the  fact,  that  ob- 
in        jections  wliicli,  when  regarded  as  part  of  a  connected  system,  seem 

. ^- .  so  formidable  to  some,  utterly  break  down,  Avlien  each  narrative  is 

carefully  examined  in  detail. 

There  are  other  circumstances  in  this  history,  which  require 
at  least  passing  consideration.  Of  these  the  principal  are  the  time 
when  the  servants  of  the  court-officer  met  him,  on  his  return  journey, 
with  the  joyful  tidings  that  his  son  lived;  and,  connected  with  it,  the 

"ver.  52  time  when  'he  began  to  do  nicely;'"-^  and,  lastly,  that  when  the 
'  court-oflicial '  applied  to  Jesus.      The  two  latter  events  were  evi- 

bver.  53  dently  contemporaneous."  The  exact  time  indicated  by  the  servants 
as  the  commencement  of  the  improvement  is,  '  Yesterday,  at  the 
seventh  hour.'  Now,  however  the  Jewish  servants  may  originally 
have  expressed  themselves,  it  seems  impossible  to  assume,  that 
St.  John  intended  any  other  than  the  Roman  notation  of  the  civil 
daj,  or  that  he  meant  any  other  hour  than  7  p.m.  The  opposite  view, 
that  it  marks  Jewish  notation  of  time,  or  1  p.m.,  is  beset  by  almost 
unsurmountable  difficulties.^  For  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that,  as 
the  distance  between  Capernaum  and  Cana  is  about  twenty-five  ndles, 
it  would  have  been  extremely  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  for  the 
courtier,  leaving  his  home  that  morning,  not  only  to  have  reached 
Cana,  but  to. have  had  the  interview  with  Jesus  by  1  p.m.  The  diffi- 
culty is  only  increased,  when  we  are  asked  to  believe,  that  after  such 
a  journey  the  courtier  had  immediately  set  out  on  his  return.  But 
this  is  absolutely  necessary  for  the  theory,  since  a  Jew  would  not  have 
set  out  on  such  a  journey  after  dusk.  But  farther,  on  the  above  sup- 
position, the  servants  of  the  court  official  must  have  taken  the  road 
immediately,  or  very  soon  after,  the  improvement  commenced.  This 
is  itself  unlikely,  and,  indeed,  counter-indicated  by  the  terms  of  the 
conversation  between  the  courtier  and  the  servants,  which  imply  that 
they  had  waited  till  they  were  sure  that  it  was  recovery,  and  not  merely 

<^ver.  52  ^  temporary  improvement."  Again,  on  the  theory  combated,  the 
servants,  meeting  the  'courtier,'  as  we  must  suppose,  midway,  if  not 
near  to  Capernaum,  would  have  said,  '  Yesterday  at  the  seventh  hour 
the  fever  left  him,'  meaning  thereby,  that,  as  they  spoke  in  the 
evening,  when  another  Jewish  day  had  begun,  the  fever  had  left  him 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  same  day,  although,  according  to  Jewish 

'  So  literally;  the  A.V.  has:    'began  such  mifjht  not  have  been  the  usual  prac- 

U)  amend.'  tiee.     However  this  be,  we  contend  that 

2  The  Jcnvish  servants  may  have  ex-  St.  John's  notation  of  time  was  accord- 
pressed  the  time  accoi'din.^-  to  Jewish  no-  m<^  to  tlie  Roman  civil  day,  or  rather  ac- 
tation,  thoug-h  in  such  a  house  in  Galilee  cordini;  to  tliat  of  Asia  Minor. 


HIGHER    TEACIIIXC    OF    TIIK    MIRACLE.  42!) 

rGck()iiiD>i',  'ycstci'day,"  since  I  p.m.  would  !)(■  i-cckoiicd  as  the  previous     CHAP, 
day.     Jiut  it  may   I"'  safely  allinii  ,d,   that  no  -lew    woidd    have    so         IX 
expressed  hiuisell'.      if,  on  the  evening  of  a  day,  they  had  referred  to   ^-^^r^— 
what  had  taken  plaee  live  or  six  liours  previously,  at  1  p.m.,  they 
would  have  said:    'At  the  seventh  hour  the  fever  left  him;"  and  not 
'  Yesterday  at  the  seventh  hour.' 

It  is  needless  to  follow  the  matter  further.  We  ean  undei'stand 
how,  leaving  Capernaum  in  the  morning,  the  interview  with  Jesus 
and  the  simultaneous  eure  of  the  child  would  have  taken  i)lace  about 
seven  o'clock  of  the  evening.  Its  I'esult  was,  not  only  the  restora- 
tion of  the  child,  but  that,  no  longer  requiring  to  see  signs  and 
wonders,  'the  man  believed  the  Avord  which  Jesus  had  si)oken  unto 
him.'  In  this  joyous  assurance,  which  needed  no  more  ocular 
demonstration,  he  '  went  his  way, '  either  to  the  hospitable  home  of 
a  friend,  or  to  some  near  lodging-place  on  the  way,  to  be  next  day 
met  by  the  gladsome  tidings,  that  it  had  been  to  him  according 
to  his  faith.  As  already  noted,  the  whole  morale  of  the  history  lies 
in  this  very  matter,  and  it  marks  the  spiritual  receptiveness  of  the 
courtier,  which,  in  turn,  was  the  moral  condition  of  his  desire  being 
granteil.  Again,  we  learn  how,  by  the  very  granting  of  his  desire, 
the  spiritual  object  of  Christ  in  the  teaching  of  the  courtier  was 
accomplished,  how,  under  certain  spiritual  conditions  in  him  and 
ui)on  him,  the  temporal  benefit  accomplished  its  spiritual  object. 
And  in  this  also,  as  in  other  points  which  will  occur  to  the  devout 
reader,  there  are  lessons  of  deepest  teaching  to  us,  and  for  all  times 
and  circumstances. 

Whether  this  'royal  officer '  was  CJiuza,  Herod's  steward,  whose 
wife,  under  the  abiding  impression  of  this  miracle  to  her  child,  after- 
wards humblv,  gratefully  ministered  to  Jesus, "■  must  remain  undeter-  "St.  Luke 

..."  .  vlii.  '.i 

mined  on  this  side  time.  8ufhce  it,  to  mark  the  progress  in  the 
'  royal  officer  '  from  belief  in  the  power  of  Jesus  to  faith  in  His 
word,''  and  thence  to  absolute  faith  in  Him,"  with  its  blessed  exjian-  ■■ver,  50 
sive  effect  on  that  whole  household.  And  so  are  we  ever  led  faitiifully  '  ^'"■-  ^^ 
and  effectually,  yet  gently,  by  His  benefits,  upwards  from  the  lower 
stage  of  belief  by  what  we  see  Him  do,  to  that  higher  faith  which  is 
absolute  and  unseeing  trust,  springing  from  experimental  knowledge 
of  what  He  is. 


430 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION, 


CHAPTER  X. 


BOOK 
III 


THE  SYNAGOGUE  AT  NAZARETH — SYNAGOGUE-WORSHIP  AND  ARRANGE- 
MENTS. 

(St.  Luke  iv.  16.) 


The  stay  in  Cana,  thou!i:h  we  have  no  means  of  determining  its 
length,  was  probably  of  only  short  duration.  Perhaps  the  Sabbath 
^'^''■r^'^  of  the  same  week  already  found  Jesus  in  the  Synagogue  of  Nazareth. 
We  will  not  seek  irreverently  to  lift  the  veil  of  sacred  silence,  which 
here,  as  elsewhere,  the  Gospel-narratives  have  laid  over  the  Sanctuary 
of  His  inner  Life.  That  silence  is  itself  theopneustic,  of  Divine 
breathing  and  inspiration;  it  is  more  eloquent  than  any  eloquence, 
a  guarantee  of  the  truthfulness  of  what  is  said.  And  against  this 
silence,  as  the  dark  background,  stands  out  as  the  Figure  of  Light 
.  the  Person  of  the  Christ.  Yet,  as  we  follow  Jesus  to  the  city  of  Hi.s 
Childhood  and  home  of  His  humility,  we  can  scarcelj^  repress  thoughts 
of  what  must  have  stirred  His  soul,  as  He  once  more  entered  the 
well-known  valley,  and  beheld  the  scenes  to  each  of  which  some  early 
memory  must  have  attached. 

Only  a  few  months  since  He  had  left  Nazareth,   but  how   much 

that  was  all-decisive  to  Him,  to  Israel,  and  to  the  world  had  passed  ! 

■  As  the  lengthening  shadows  of  Friday's  sun  closed  around  the  quiet 

valley,  He  would  hear   the    well-remembered    double    blast   of  the 

trumpet  from  the  roof  of  the  Synagogue-minister's  house,  proclaim- 

»shabb.3.5ft  ing  the  advent  of  the  holy  day."     Once  more  it  sounded  through  the 

ijer.shabb  .s;till  summer-air,  to  tell  all,  that  work  must  be  laid  aside."    Yet  a 

xvU.  p.  16  a  .  .  .  ' 

third  time  it  was  heard,  ere  the  'minister'  put  it  aside  close  by 
where  he  stood,  not  to  profane  the  Sabbath  by  carrying  it;  for  now 
the  Sabbath  had  really  commenced,  and  tlio  festivo  Sal)batli-lanip 
was  lit. 

Sabbath  morn  dawned,  and  early  He  repaired  to  that  Synagogue 
where,  as  a  Child,  a  Youth,  a  ^lan,  He  had  so  often  worshipped  in 
the  humble  retirement  of  His  rank,  sitting,  not  up  there  among  the 
elders  and  the  honoured,  but  far  back.  The  old  Avell-known  faces 
were  around  Him.  the  old  \vell-remenil)er('(i  words  and  services  fell 


IN.STJTI'TION   OF   THE   SYNAGOGUE.  431 

on  His  ear.     How  diU'crcnt  they  had   always  hocii   to   Him    than  to     CHAP, 
them,  with  whom  He  had  thus   mingled    in  common  worshii)!    And         X 
now  He  was  ao;ain  among-  them,  truly  a  stranger  among  His  own  ^— — r-^-^ 
eountrymcn;  this  time,  to  be    looked  at.    listened  to,    tested,  tried, 
used  or  cast  aside,  as  the  case  might  be.     It  was  the  first  time,^  so 
far  as  wc  know,  that  He  taught  in  a  Sjmagogue,  and  this  Synagogue 
that  of  His  own  Nazareth. 

It  was,  surely,  a  wondrously  linked  chain  of  circumstances,  which 
bound  the  Synagogue  to  the  Church.  Such  a  result  could  never  have 
been  foreseen,  a^s  that,  what  really  was  the  consequence  of  Israel's 
dispersion,  and,  therefore,  indirectly  the  punishment  of  their  sin, 
should  become  the  means  of  fulfilling  Israel's  world-mission.  Another 
instance  this,  of  how  Divine  judgment  always  bears  in  its  bosom 
larger  mercy;  another  illustration  how  the  dying  of  Israel  is  ever 
life  to  the  world;  another  manifestation  of  that  supernatural  Rule 
of  God,  in  which  all  is  rule,  that  is,  law  and  order,  and  all  the  super- 
natural, bringing  to  pass,  in  the  orderly  succession  of  events,  what  at 
the  outset  would  have  seemed,  and  really  is,  miraculous.  For  the 
Synagogue  became  the  cradle  of  the  Church.  Without  it,  as  indeed 
without  Israel's  dispersion,  the  Church  Universal  woidd,  humanely 
speaking,  have  been  impossible,  and  the  conversation  of  the  Gentiles 
have  required  a  succession  of  millennial  miracles. 

That  Synagogues  originated  during,  or  in  consequence  of  the 
Babylonish  captivity,  is  admitted  by  all.  The  Old  Testament  con- 
tains no  allusion  to  their  existence,-  and  the  Ral)binic  attempts  to 
trace  them  even  to  Patriarchal  times'^  deserve,  of  course,  no  serious 

1  The  remark  iu  the  '  Speaker's  Com-      ?N'""'~r.'i^i~?w'1.   nzr.     •  Let    us    suppress 

mentary'  (St.   Luke  iv.  Ki),  that  Jesus       ,.       ,',  ',     ^  1 1    ^i        111*1     e 

I,  ,1 1,,  „  ;,;  fi, .  i,oi.it  ^f  „.-.,^„„,ii.i„. fi,„      altogether — the  Sabbath  ami  all  the  fes- 
nad  been  ui  the  habit  ot  expouiuluiii  the      ,.     "  •    <.i     1      i  j    /-■  t^?   ^ 

Scriptures    in    Nazareth,    is     not    only  ^H'.  ^«^^^"^,  '"  ^^'t,     f;     Comp  i'/.r^ 
groimdless,    but  inconsistent   with    the  f}"^^^''   ^''^-   "•  ^^^^^l"   '^-   ^'■•'^^-   ^'^'- 
narrative.       See    ver.    22.     Still    more         -i  ml      ■  -,     t     ,■         t  ■  •  1 
strange  is  the  supposition,  that  -Jesus  ,      ^he  introduction  ot  morning,   mid- 
offered  to' read  and  to  expound,  and  sig-  f.">-,   ^'"^  .altenioon    prayers    is  respec- 
nih^d    this   intention    by   standing   up.  t'vely  ascribed   to   Abrahan.     saac.  am 
This  might  be  done  by  any  memTjer  of  i^'""^'-      The  Targum   of    Onkelos  and 
the  congTegation.'     Mo.st  assuredly  such  fl^e  Targum   Ps.-Jon.   on   Gen.    xxv.  2/ 
.,^,  1.1  .?^t  K. +i,„  „                          ■  imply  their   existence    in    the   time  of 
would  not  be  the  case.  t      S       t    r>    r^          00            1   ■,      -ir 
.,  m  -^                <^  ^•    *    •  1  4-  •           ■  f     f  Jacob.     In  B.  Kama  iS2  <(.  and  Jer.  Me- 
■*  This  seems  at  hrst  sight  inconsistent  .,,    _.       ..           .                .         i   *     ^i 
.*,   r>    1     •     o     T>  *  *i     .1-              1       1  iiib-  75  a,  its  services  are  traced  to  the 
with  Ps.  Ixxiv.  8.    But  the  term  rendered  T.         ,,,'              .          ,.      ♦    o     1    n.>, 
,0         ^         >  •    n      t  ir  1                1  tune  of  Moses.     According  to  Sauh.  9-i  b, 
'Synagogues' in  the  A.  V.  has  never  been  r.         „              •  *   1  •    .1     +•         f  tt 
used  in  that  sense.     The  solution  of  the  '^-Vif  go^ues  existed  in  the  ime  of  Ileze- 

ditticultv  here  comes  to  us  through  the  !^'^,^    J    '^"^  "^"1'''^  I?  ^"""''  ^''^  '''^'■ 

LXX.  Their  rendering,  Kara7ravac^/iuv  -ject  further.    ^\  e  take  the  present  oppor- 

(let  us  make  to  cease)  shows  that  in  their  tunity  of  a.hling,  that,  as  the  Kabbimc 

Hebrew  MSS.  thev  read  in2r.     If   so,  Quotations  m  this  chap  er  would  be  so 

then   the    1    probably   belonged   to   the  numerous,  only  thos<>  will  be  given  which 

next  word,  4nd  the  text  would  read:  i-'^f^^i".  to.Points  hitherto  unnoticed,  or  of 

special  importance. 


432 


K1{()M    JUliDAN    TO    TIIH    MOl'XT    OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Baba  K. 
82  a 


consideration.  We  can  readily  nnderstand  how  (hiring  the  k)ng  years 
of  exile  in  Babylon,  places  and  opportunities  I'or  common  worship  on 
Sabbaths  and  feast-days  must  have  been  felt  almost  a  necessity. 
This  would  furnish,  at  least,  the  basis  for  the  institution  of  the 
Synagogue.  After  the  return  to  Palestine,  and  still  more  by  '  the 
dispersed  abroad, '  such  'meeting-houses'  {Battey  Khenesiyoth,  do- 
mus  congregationum,  Synagogues)  would  become  absolutely  requisite. 
Here  those  wlu)  were  ignorant  even  of  the  language  of  the  Old 
Testament  would  have  the  Scriptures  read  and  '  targumed '  to 
them.'  It  was  but  natural  that  prayers,  and,  lastly,  addresses, 
should  in  course  of  time  be  added.  Thus  the  regular  Synagogue- 
service  would  gradually  arise;  first  on  Sabbaths  and  on  feast-  or 
fast-days,  then  on  ordinary  days,  at  the  same  hours  as,  and  with  a 
sort  of  internal  correspondence  to,  the  Avorship  of  the  Temple.  The 
services  on  Mondays  and  Thursdays  w^ere  special,  these  being  the 
ordinary  market-days,  when  the  country-people  came  into  the  towns, 
and  would  avail  themselves  of  the  opportunity  for  bringing  any  case 
that  might  require  legal  decision  before  the  local  Sanhedrin,  which 
met  in  the  Synagogue,  and  consisted  of  its  authorities.  Naturally, 
these  two  days  would  be  utilised  to  atford  the  country-people,  who 
lived  far  from  the  Synagogues,  opportunities  for  w^orship;  ^  and  the 
services  on  those  days  were  of  a  somewhat  more  elaborate  character. 
Accordingly,  Monday  and  Thursday  were  called  '  the  days  of  congre- 
gation '  or  '  Synagogue  '  {Yo7n  lia-Kenisali). 

In  another  place  Mt  has  been  shown,  how  rapidly  and  generally 
the  institution  of  Synagogues  spread  among  the  Jews  of  the  Disper- 
sion in  all  lands,  and  what  important  purposes  they  served.  In 
Palestine  they  were  scattered  over  the  whole  country,  though  it  is 
only  reasonable  to  suppose,  that  their  number  greatly  increased  after 
the  destruction  of  the  Temple,  and  this  without  crediting  the  Jewish 
legend  as  to  their  extraordinary  number  in  certain  cities,  such  as 
480,  or  460,  in  Jerusalem.'  In  the  capital,  and  probably  in  some 
other  large  cities,  there  were  not  only  several  Synagogues,  but  these 
arranged  according  to  nationalities,  and  even  crafts.*  At  the  same  time 
it  deserves  notice,  that  even  in  so  important  a  place  as  Capernaum 


1  The  expressions  '  Targum '  and  •  tar- 
guming '  have  been  previously  explained. 
The  tir.st  indication  of  such  paraphras- 
ing in  the  vernacular  is  found  in  Neh. 
viii.  7,  8. 

■■2  See  Book  I.  pp.  19,  77. 

^  These   numljers,    however,    seem  to 


have  been  symbolical.  The  number  480 
is,  by  Gimatveyn,  deduced  from  the  word 
'She  that  was  full  of  (meleathi)  in  Is.  i. 
21.  Comp.  Yalkut,  vol.  ii.  p.  40  d,  towards 
the  end,  or  else  480  =  4  x  10  x  12. 
*  Comp.  Megill.  26. 


sYNA(j()()iri':s  IN  i'aij:stink.  433 

there  seems  either  not  to  have  been  a  Syiiagogiic,  or  that  it  wa.s  cilAl*. 
utterly  insignificant,  till  the  want  was  supplied  by  the  pious  Gentile         X 

centurion."     This  Avould  seem  to  dispose  of  the  question  whether,  as  ' -< 

is  generally  assumed,  a  Jewish  community  in  a  place,  if  numbering  ^j^'-g^"'"' 
ten  heads  of  families,  was  obliged  to  build  a  Synagogue,  and  could 
enforce  local  taxation  for  the  puri)Ose.     Such  was  undoubtedly  the 

later  Rabbinic  ordinance,''  but  there  is  no  evidence  that  it  obtained  in  •■  Maimo- 

nides,  Hilc. 

Palestine,  or  in  early  times.  Tephui,  xi. 

Generally,  of  ciMirse,  a  conununity  would  build  its  own  Synagogue, 
or  else  depend  on  the  charitable  assistance  of  neighbours,  or  on  pri- 
vate munificence.  If  this  failed,  they  miglit  meet  for  worship  in  a 
private  dwelling,  a  sort  of  'Synagogue  in  the  house.'"     For,  inearlv  'Comp. 

'  ^'  ,  -1,1  PhUem.  2 

times  the  institution  would  l)e  much  more  sim})le  than  at  a  later 
period.  In  this,  as  in  other  respects,  we  must  remember  that  later 
Jewish  arrangements  aftbrd  no  evidence  of  those  which  prevailed  while 
the  Temple  stood,  nor  yet  the  ordinances  of  the  chiefs  of  l^abylonian 
Academies  of  the  customs  existing  in  Palestine,  and,  lastly,  that  the 
Rabbinic  directions  mark  rather  an  ideal  than  the  actual  state  of 
things.  Thus — to  mention  an  instance  of  some  importance,  because 
the  error  has  been  so  often  repeated  as  to  be  generally  believed,  and 
to  have  misled  recent  exi)lorers  in  Palestine — there  is  no  evidence 
that  in  Palestine  Synagogues  always  required  to  be  built  in  the  highest 
situation  in  a  town,  or,  at  least,  so  as  to  overtop  tlie  other  houses.  To 
judge  from  a  doubtful'  passage  in  the  Talmud,'  this  seems  to  have  ''siiabb.  u 
been  the  case  in  Persia,  while  a  later  notice"'  appeals  in  support  of  it  eTos. 
to  Prov.  viii.  2.  Rut  even  where  the  Jews  were  most  powerful  and  ivfls^  ' 
influential,  the  rule  could  not  have  been  universally  enforced,  although 
later  Rabbis  lay  it  down  as  a  iirinciple.''     Hence,  the  inference,  that  ^  Maimn- 

■^  11)  J  »,V/<.x.  Hllc. 

the  Galilean  Synagogues  lately  excavated  cannot  date  from  an  early  Tephiii.  xi. 
period,  because  they  are  not  in  prominent  positions,  is  erroneous.- 

But  there  were  two  rules  observed,  which  seem  to  bave  been  en- 
forced from  early  times.  One  of  these  enjoined,  that  a  Synagogue 
should  not  be  erected  in  a  place,  unless  it  contained  ten  Baflnnim,' 
or  men  of  leisure,   who  could  devote  their  time  to  the  Synagogue 


•  Seo  the  notes  in  MaimonUics.  Ililc.  Alexander  Severus,  is  nil  the  iikhc  un- 

Tephill.  xi.  2;  p.  75  h.  lironnded,  that  at  that  time,  it  ever,  the 

'"  Comp.  Liput.    Kitchener'' ft  article  on  .tewisli  authorities  would  strictly  adhere 

the  Syna<i-o,2;ues  of  Galilee  (P.E.F.  Re-  to  Talniudie  directions  as  to  the  struc- 

l)ort,  July  1878,  pp.  12(5  &c.).     The  infm'-  tare  of  Synac-osucs. 
ence,  that  they  date  from  tlie  be.t!;iiuiin,i;;  •'  From  'battel,'  wliicli    here  seems  to 

of  the   third   century,    when    the   .lews  have   the   same   rneaninc:  as   the   Latin 

were  in  hi2:h  favour  with  the  Emperor  vacare  rei,  to  have  leisure  for  a  rhini:;. 


434 


FIJOM    JORDAN    TO    THE    MOUNT    OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"Comp.Jer. 
Ber.  iv.  5; 
BabaB.  25  a 

'•  Tos. 
Megill.iii.  3 


<:  Baba  B. 

25  a  and  b ; 
Jer.  Ber.  iv. 
5 


a  Tos. 
Meg.  ill.  3 


worsliip  and  adiniiiistration.'  This  was  proved  by  the  consideration, 
that  common  worship  implied  a  congregation,  which,  according  to 
Jewish  Law,  mnst  consist  ol'  at  least  ten  nieu.^  Another,  and  perhaps 
more  important  rule  was  as  to  the  direction  in  which  Synagogues  were 
to  be  built,  and  which  worshippers  should  occupy  during  prayer. 
Here  two  points  must  be  kept  in  view:  1st.  Prayer  towards  the 
east  was  condemned,  on  the  ground  of  the  false  worship  towards  the 
east  mentioned  in  Ezok.  viii.  16.''  2ndly.  The  prevailing  direction 
in  Palestine  was  towards  the  west,  as  in  the  Temple.  Thus,  we  read  " 
that  the  entrance  into  the  Synagogue  was  by  the  east,  as  the  entrance 
through  the  Beautiful  Gate  into  the  Sanctuary.  This,  however,  may 
refer,  not  to  the  door,  but  to  the  passage  (aisle)  into  the  interior  of 
the  building.  In  other  places,"  the  advice  is  simply  given  to  turn 
towards  Jerusalem,  in  whatever  direction  it  be.  In  general,  however, 
it  was  considered  that  since  the  Shekhinah  was  everywhere  in  Pales- 
tine, direction  was  not  of  paramount  importance. 

If  wo  cond)ine  these  notices,  and  keep  in  view  the  general  desire 
to  conform  to  the  Temple  arrangements,  the  ruined  Synagogues  lately 
excavated  in  the  north  of  Galilee  seem,  in  a  remarkable  manner,  to 
meet  the  Talmudic  requirements.  With  the  exception  of  one  (at 
'Irbid,  which  has  its  door  to  the  east),  they  all  have  their  entrances  on 
the  south.  We  conjecture  that  the  worshippers,  imitating  in  this  the 
practice  in  the  Temple,  made  a  circuit,  either  completely  to  the  north, 
or  else  entered  at  the  middle  of  the  eastern  aisle,  where,  in  the 
ground-plan  of  the  Synagogue  at  Capernaum,  which  seems  the  most 
fully  preserved  ruin,  two  pillars  in  the  colonnade  arc  wanting.'  The 
so-called  'Ark'  would  be  at  the  south  end;  the  seats  for  the  elders 
and  honourable  in  front  of  it,  facing  the  people,  and  with  their  back 
to  the  Ark.*  Here  two  pillars  are  wanting  in  the  Synagogue  at 
Capernaum.  The  lectern  of  the  reader  would  be  in  the  centre,  close 
to  where  the  entrance  was  into  the  double  colonnade  which  formed 
the  Synagogue,  where,  at  present,  a  single  pillar  is  marked  in  the 
plan  of  the  Capernaum  Synagogue;  while  the  women's  gallery  was 
at  the  north  end,  where  two  columns  and  pillars  of  peculiar  shape, 


'  This  Ls  expressly  stated  in  .Ter. 
Megill.  i.  6,  p.  70  b,  towards  the  end. 

2  Comp.  Mesjill.  iv.  3 ;  Sanh.  i.  6.  That 
ten  constituted  a  oon2:re,2;ation  was  de- 
rived from  Numb.  .\iv.  27.  Similarly,  it 
was  thought  to  be  imjilied  in  the  fact, 
that  if  ten  ri,iz;hteous  men  had  been  in 
Sodom,  the  city  would  not  have  been 
destroyed.     But  in  case  of  necessity  the 


number  ten  mi^ht  be  made  up  by  a  male 
child  under  a^e  (Ber.  R.  91,  pp.  IfiO  a 
and  h). 

'■'■  On  the  next  pajre  we  give  a  i)lan  of 
the  Synagogue  excavated  at  Tell  Hum 
(Capernaum).  It  is  adapted  from  Capt. 
Wi7so>i\'i  i)lan  in  the  P.E.F.  Quarterly 
Statement.  No.  2. 


PLAN  AND  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  .SYNA(i(K;UK.  435 

whicli  niaj  have  siii)i)()rto(l  the  gallery,  are  traceable.      For  it  is  a  CHAP, 
mistake  to  suppose  that  the  men  and  women  sat  in  opposite   aisles,         X 

separated  by  a  low  wall.      PliiJo  notices,  indeed,  this  arraiiiicinent  in  ^- — r — 

connection  with  the  Tlierapeuta3; ''  but  there  is  no  indication  that  the  »DeVit. 

Con  tempi. :J 

practice  prevailed  m  the  Synagogues,  or  in  Palestine.  and  9,  ed. 

We  can  now,  with  the  help  given  by  recent   excavations,  form   a  pp.  476, 4s<'2 
conception  of  these  ancient  Synagogues.     The  Synagogue  is  built  of 
the  stone  of  the  couutrv.     On  the  lintels  over  the  doors  there  are 


II 


PLAN  OF  SYNAfiilGUE  AT   'TELL  HrM." 


various  ornamentations— a  seven-branched  candlestick,  an  open  flower 
between  two  Paschal  lambs,  or  vine-leaves  with  bunches  of  grapes, 
or,  as  at  Capernaum,  a  pot  of  manna  between  representations  of 
Aaron's  rod.  Only  glancing  at  the  internal  decorations  of  mould- 
ings or  cornice,  we  notice  that  the  inside  plan-  is  generally  that  of 
two  double  colonnades,  which  seem  to  have  formed  the  body  of  the 
Synagogue,  the  aisles  east  and  west  being  probably  used  as  passages. 
The  intercolumnar  distance  is  very  small,  never  greater  than9|  feet.^ 

1  Comp.  Palestine  Exploration  Fund  Report,  Quarterly  Statement,  ii,  p.  42  &c. 


436 


FliOM    .lOKDAN     TO    TllK    MUL'XT    OF  TIfANSFIGL'KATIUN. 


BOOK 

ni 


*■  Megill. 
26  b ;  Taan. 


■^  Exod. 
xxvii.  20 


■i  St.  Matt, 
xxiii.  6; 
To.s. 

Megill.  ed. 
Z.  iv.  21 

'  MegUl.  32 


f  MeglU.  26 

b 


The  *  two  coriu'i-  eulumn.s  at  the  northern  end  invariably  have  their 
two  exterior  faces  square  like  piUars,  and  the  two  interior  ones  formed 
by  half-engaged  pillars.'  Here  we  suppose  the  women's  gallery  to 
have  risen.  The  flooring  is  formed  of  slabs  of  white  limestone;  ^  the 
walls  are  solid  (from  2  even  to  7  feet  in  thickness),  and  well  built  of 
stones,  rough  in  the  exterior,  but  plastered  in  the  interior.  The 
Synagogue  is  furnished  with  sufficient  windows  to  admit  light.  The 
roof  is  flat,  the  columns  being  sometimes  connected  by  Ijlock's  of 
stone,  on  Avhich  massive  rafters  rest. 

Entering  by  the  door  at  the  southern  end,  and  making  tiie  circuit 
to  the  north,  we  take  our  position  in  front  of  the  women's  gallery. 
These  colonnades  form  the  body  of  the  Synagogue.^  At  the  south 
end,  facing  north,  is  a  movable  '  Ark, '  containing  the  sacred  rolls  of  the 
Law  and  the  Prophets.  It  is  called  the  Holy  Chest  or  Ark,  Avon 
haqqodesh  (to  call  it  simply  '  aron  '  Avas  sinful), '^  but  chiefly  the  Tebltah, 
Ark.^  It  Avas  made  movable,  so  that  it  might  be  carried  out,  as  on 
public  fasts.''  Steps  generally  led  up  to  it  (the  Darga  or  Saphsel). 
In  front  hangs  (this  probably  from  an  early  period)  the  Vilon  or 
curtain.  But  the  Holy  Lamp  is  never  wanting,  in  imitation  of  the 
undying  light  in  the  Temple."  Right  l)efore  the  Ark,  and  facing  the 
people,  are  the  seats  of  honour,  for  the  rulers  of  the  Synagogue  and 
the  honourable. '^  The  place  for  him  Avho  leads  the  devotion  of  the 
people  is  also  in  front  of  the  Ark,  either  elevated,  or  else,  to  mark 
humility,  lowered.*  In  the  middle  of  the  Synagogue  (so  generally) 
is  the  Bima,^  or  elevation,  on  which  there  is  the  Luach,  or  desk,''  from 
which  the  Law  is  read.  This  is  also  called  the  Kiirseyo,  chair,  or 
throne,'  or  Kisse,  and  PergulaJi.  Those  Avho  are  to  read  the  Law  will 
stand,  while  he  who  is  to  preach  or  deliver  an  address  will  sit.  Beside 
them  will  be  the  Methurgeman,  either  to  interpret,  or  to  repeat-aloud;, 
what  is  said. 

As  yet  the  Synagogue  is  empty,  and  we  may  therefore  call 
to  mind  what  we  ought  to  think,  and  hoAV  to  bear  ourselves.  To 
neglect  attendance  on  its  services  would  not  only  involve  personal 


'  Comp.  Wai'ren's  '  Recovery  of  Jeru- 
salem,' p.  3J:3  &c. 

-  There  is  a  curious  iiassace  in  Ber. 
8  a,  which  states  that  although  there 
were  thirteen  Synagogues  in  Tiberias,  it 
was  the  jjractice  of  the  Raljbis  only  to 
pray  '  between  the  columns  where  they 
studied.'  This  seems  to  imply  that  the 
Academy  consisted  also  of  colonnades. 
For  it  would  be  difficult  to  believe 
that  all  the  supposed  Synagogues  exca- 


vated in  Galilee  were  Academies. 

■■'  It  was  also  called  Argas  and  Qomtar 
(Megill.  2G  li),  but  more  generally  Chest. 

*  Hence  the  expression  'yored  liphney 
hattebhah,'  and  'obhed  liphney  hatte- 
bhah.' 

^  Seems  also  to  have  been  called 
'  Kathedrah,'  just  as  by  our  Lord  (St. 
Matt,  xxiii.  2).  Comp.  Buxtorfs  Lexi- 
con, p.  2164. 


SANCTITY    OF    THE    SVNACJOUrE.  437 

;;i;uilt,  t)ut  briiiiz,'  j)iiui!5liiiiuiit  upon  the  whole  district.      IikUhmI,  to  he     CHAP, 
ett'ectual,  prayer  must  be  ottered  in  the  Synagogue.'      At  tlie  same         X 
time,  the  more  strict  ordinances  in  regard  to  th(!  Temple,  such  as,   ^— ^' — 
that  we  must  not  enter  it  carrying  a  stali',  nor  with  shoes,  nor  even  Bor.'eaami 
dust  on  the   teet,    nor  with    scrip   or  purse,    do   not   ap])ly   to   the    ''^^ 
Synagogue,   as  of  comparatively  inferior  sanctity.''      However,   the  '>Ber.  ca-/ 
Synagogue  must  not  be  made  a  thoroughfare.     We  must  not  behave 
lightly  in  it."     We  mav  not  ioke,  laugh,  eat,  talk,  dress,  nor  resort  "7^'^%     . 
there  for  shelter  from  sun  or  rain.     Only  Rabbis  and  their  disciples,   ^-  '"•  ■" 
to  whom  so  many  things  are  lawful,  and  who,  indeed,  must  look  upon 
the  Synagogue  as  if  it  were  their  own  dwelling,  may  eat,  driid<,  pci- 
haps  even  sleep  there.     Under  certain  circumstances,  also,  the  poor 
and  strangers  may  be  fed  there.'*      But,  in  general,  the  Synagogue  <ipes.  loid 
must  be  regarded  as  consecrated  to    God.     Even  if  a  new  one  be 
built,  care  must  be  taken  not  to  leave  the  old  edifice  till  the  other  is 
linished.       Money  collected  for  the  building  may,  in  cases  of  neces- 
sity, be  used  for  other  purposes,  but  things  dedicated  for  it  are  in- 
alienable by  sale.     A  Synagogue  may  be  converted  into  an  Academy, 
because  the  latter  is  regarded  as  more  sacred,  but  not  vice  versa. 
Village  Synagogues  may  be  disposed  of,  under  the  direction  of  the 
local  Sanhedrin,  provided  the  locale  be  not  afterwar<ls  used  for  incon- 
gruous })urposes,  such  as  public  baths,  a  wash-house,  a  tannery,  &c. 
But  town  Synagogues  are  inalienable,  because  strangers  may  have 
contributed  to  them;  and,  even  if  otherwise,  they  have  aright  to  look 
for  some  place  of  worshij).     At  the  same  time,  we  must  bear  in  mind 
that  this  rule  had  its  exceptions;  notably  that,  at  one  time,  the  guild 
of  coppersmiths  in  Jerusalem  sold  their  Synagogue.'  ■  Megui.-inn 

All  this,  irrespective  of  any  llabbinic  legends,  shows  with  what 
reverence  these  'houses  of  congregation'  were  regarded.  And  now 
the  weekly  Sabbath,  the  pledge  between  Israel  and  God,  had  once 
more  come.  To  meet  it  as  a  bride  or  queen,  each  house  was  adorned 
on  the  Friday  evening.  The  Sabbath  lamp  was  lighted;  the  festive 
garments  put  on;  the  table  provided  with  the  best  which  the  family 
could  afl'ord;  and  the  Qiddush,  or  benediction,  sj^okenover  the  cup  of 
wine,  which,  as  always,  was  mixed  with  water.'  And  as  Sabbath 
morning  broke,  they  hastened  with  quicksteps  to  the  Synagogue:  for 
such  was  the  Rabbinic  rule  in  going,  while  it  was  ])rescribed  to  retui-n 
Math  slow  and  lingering  stei)s.     Jewisli  punctiliousness  delhicd  every 

1  This,  not  for  symbolical  reasons,  but  rules  liow  the  cup  is  to  be  liehl,  or  even 
probably-oii  account  of  the  strength  of  the  litura;ical  formula  of  tlie  Qlddusii. 
the  wine.     It  is  needless  here  to  give  the      Couip.  .hn:  Ber.  p.  3  r,  cZ;  vii.  li.  p.  II  r,  d. 


438 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


ROOK 
III 


»  St.  LuKe 
iv.  20 


1'  Comp. 
Schiirer, 
Gemeind. 
Verfass.  in 
Kom.pp.  27 


'  Schiirer, 
U.S.,  pp.  18- 
20 


<'Sanh.92a; 
C'hag.  .5  h 

>■  Gitt.  60  a 


movement  and  attitude  in  i)ra}er.  If  those  rules  were  ever  observed  in 
their  entirety,  devotion  must  have  been  crushed  under  their  weight. 
But  we  have  evidence  that,  in  the  time  of  our  Lord,  and  even  later, 
there  was  much  personal  freedom  left;  ^  for,  not  only  was  much  in  the 
services  determined  by  the  usage  of  each  place,  but  the  leader  of  the 
devotions  might  preface  the  regular  service  by  free  prayer,  or  insert 
such  between  certain  parts  of  the  liturgy. 

We  are  now  in  the  Nazareth  Synagogue.  The  officials  are  all 
assembled.  The  lowest  of  these  is  the  C'hazzan,  or  minister,"  who 
often  acts  also  as  schoolmaster.  For  this  reason,  and  because  the 
conduct  of  the  services  may  frequently  devolve  upon  him,  great  care 
is  taken  in  his  selection.  He  must  be  not  only  irreproachable,  but, 
if  possible,  his  family  also.  Humility,  modesty,  knowledge  of  the 
Scriptures,  distinctness  and  correctness  in  pronunciation,  simplicity 
and  neatness  in  dress,  and  an  absence  of  self-assertion^  are  qualities 
sought  for,  and  which,  in  some  measure,  remind  us  of  the  higher 
qualifications  insisted  on  by  St.  Paul  in  the  choice  of  ecclesiastical 
officers.  Then  there  are  the  elders  (Zeqenim),  or  rulers  {apxovTes)^ 
whose  chief  is  the  Archisynagogos,  or  Hosh  ha-Keneseth.  These  are 
the  rulers  {Parnasim)  or  shepherds  {Troi/Aevsg).  There  can  be  no 
(Question  (from  the  inscriptions  on  the  Jewish  tombstones  in  Romej,'' 
that  the  Archisynagogos^  was  cJiief  among  the  rulers,  and  that, 
whether  or  not  there  was,  as  in  the  community  at  Rome,  and  probably 
also  among  the  dispersed  in  the  West,  besides  him,  a  sort  of  political 
chief  of  the  elders,  or  Gerousiarch."  All  the  rulers  of  the  Synagogue 
were  duly  examined  as  to  their  knowledge,  and  ordained  to  the 
office.  They  formed  the  local  Sanhedrin  or  tribunal.  But  their 
election  depended  on  the  choice  of  the  congregation;  and  absence  of 
pride,  as  also  gentleness  and  humility,  are  mentioned  as  special 
qualifications.'*     Sometimes  the  office  was  held  by  regular  teachers.' 

If,  as  in  Rome,  there  was  an  apparently  unordained  eldership 
(Gerousia),  it  had  probably  only  the  charge  of  outward  affairs,  and 
acted  rather  as  a  committee  of  management.  Indeed,  in  foreign 
Synagogues,  the  rulers  seem  to  have  been  chosen,  sometimes  for  a 
specified  period,  at  others  for  life.      But,  although  it  maybe  admitted 

^  A3  to  all  this,  and  the  pjeat  liberty 
in  prayer,  comp.  Zuuz,  Gottesd.  Vortr.  d. 
Jud.  pp.  368,  369,  and  notes  a,  b,  and  d; 
and  Ritiis  des  Synag-  Gottesd.  pp.  2  and  3. 

'■*  In  St.  Mark  v.  22,  several  Archi- 
synagogoi  seem  to  be  spoken  of.  But  the 
expression  may  only  mean,  as  Weiss  sug- 
gests, one   of  the   order   of  the   Archi- 


synarjoijoL  The  i)assa2:e  in  Acts  xiii.  15 
is  more  difficult.  Possibly  it  may  depend 
upon  local  circumstances — the  term 
Archisynagofjoi  including  others  beside 
the  Archisynagogoi  in  the  strictest 
sense,  such  as  the  OerousiarcJis  of  the 
Roman  inscriptions. 


SYNAGOGUE-PRAYERS. 


439 


that  the  Archisynagogos,  or  chief  ruler  of  the  Synagogue,  was  only  the 
first  among  his  equals,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  viitual  rule  of 
the  Synagogue  devolved  upon  him.  He  would  have  the  superintend- 
ence of  Divine  service,  and,  as  this  was  not  conducted  by  regular 
officials,  he  would  in  each  case  determine  who  were  to  be  called  up  to 
read  from  the  Law  and  the  Prophets,  who  was  to  conduct  the  prayers, 
and  act  as  tShdiuch  Tsibbur,  or  messenger  of  the  congregation,  and 
who,  if  any,  was  to  deliver  an  address.  He  would  also  see  to  it  that 
nothing  improper  took  place  in  the  Synagogue,'' and  that  the  i)rayers 
were  proi)('rly  conducted.  In  short,  the  sujjreme  care,  both  of  the 
services  and  of  the  building,  would  devolve  upon  him.  To  these  regular 
officials  we  have  to  add  those  who  officiated  during  the  service,  the 
Sheliach  Tsihhnr,  or  delegate  of  the  congregation — who,  as  its  mouth- 
piece, conducted  the  devotions — the  Interpreter  or  Methurgeman,  and 
those  who  were  called  on  to  read  in  fhe  Law  and  the  I^rophets,  or  else 
to  preach. 

We  are  now  in  some  measure  prepared  to  follow  the  worship  on 
that  Sabbath  in  Nazareth.  On  His  entrance  into  the  Synagogue,  or 
perhaps  before  that,  the  chief  ruler  would  request  Jesus  to  act  for 
that  Sabbath  as  the  Sheliach  Tsibbur.  For  according  to  the  Mishnah,'" 
the  person  who  read  in  the  Synagogue  the  portion  from  the  Prophets, 
was  also  expected  to  conduct  the  devotions,  at  least  in  greater  part.* 
If  this  rule  was  enforced  at  that  time,  then  Jesus  would  ascend  the 
Bima,  and  standing  at  the  lectern,  begin  the  service  by  two  prayers, 
which  in  their  most  ancient  form,  as  they  probably  oV)tained  in  the 
time  of  our  Lord,  were  as  follows:- — 

I.  '  Blessed  be  Thou,  O  Lord,  King  of  the  world,  Who  formest 
the  light  and  createst  the  darkness,  Who  nmkest  peace,  and  createst 
everything;  Who,  in  mercy,  givest  light  to  the  earth,  and  to  those 
who  dwell  upon  it,  and  in  Thy  goodness,  day  by  day,  and  everyday, 
renewest  the  works  of  ci'cation.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  our  (iod  for  the 
glory  of  His  handiworks,  and  for  the  light-giving  lights  which  He  has 
made  for  His  praise.  Selali.  Blessed  be  the  Lord  our  God,  Who  has 
formed  the  lights.' 

II.  ^  With  great  love  hast  Thou  loved  us,  0  Lord  our  God,  and 
with  much  overflowing  })ity  hast  Thou  i)itie(l  us,  our  Father  and  our 
King.  For  the  sake  of  our  fathers  who  trusted  in  Thee,  and  ''I'hou 
taughtest  them  the  statutes  of  life,  have  mercy  upon  us,  and  teach 
us.  Enlighten  our  eyes  in  Thy  Law;  cause  our  hearts  to  cleave  to 
Thy  commandments;  unite  our  hearts  to  love  and  fear  Thy  Name, 

'  Part  of  the  Shema,  and  the  wliole  of  tlie  Eulogies. 


CHAP 
X 


« St.  Luke 
xiii.  14 


^  Megill. 
V.  5 


440 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»Deut.  vi 
4-9;   xi.  Vi- 
'21;  Numb. 
XV.  37-41 

I'  Ber.  ii.  2 


and  wc  shall  not  be  put  to  shauic,  world  without  end.  For  Thou  art 
a  God  Who  preparest  salvation,  and  us  hast  Thou  chosen  from  among 
all  nations  and  tongues,  and  hast  in  ti'uth  brought  us  near  to  Thy 
great  Name — Selah — that  we  may  lovingly  i)raise  Thee  and  Thy 
Unity.     Blessed  be  the  Lcn-d,  AVho  in  love  chose  His  people  Israel.' 

After  this  followed  what  may  be  designated  as  the  Jewish  Creed, 
called  the  <S7<e//ia,  from  tiie  word  ' shetna,'  or  'liear,'  with  Avhich  it 
begins.  It  consisted  of  three  passages  frc^m  the  Pentateuch,"  so 
arranged,  as  the  Mishnah  notes,''  that  the  worshipper  took  upon  him- 
self first  the  yoke  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  and  only  after  it  the 
yoke  of  the  commandments;  and  in  the  latter,  again,  first  those  that 
applied  to  night  and  day,  and  then  those  that  applied  to  the  day  only. 
They  were  probably  but  later  determinations,  conceived  in  a  spirit  of 
hostility  to  what  was  regarded  as  the  heresy  of  Christianity,  which 
insisted  that,  as  the  first  sentence  in  the  Shema,  asserting  the  Unity 
of  God,  was  the  most  important,  special  emphasis  should  be  laid  on 
certain  words  in  it.  The  recitation  of  the  Sheinawds  followed  by  this 
prayer: — 

'  True  it  is  that  Thou  art  Jehovah,  our  God,  and  the  God  of  our 
fathers,  our  King,  and  the  King  of  our  fathers,  our  Saviour,  and  the 
Saviour  of  our  fathers,  our  Creator,  the  Rock  of  our  Salvation,  our 
Help  and  our  Deliverer.  Thy  Name  is  from  everlasting,  and  there 
is  no  God  beside  Thee.  A  uew^  song  did  they  that  were  delivered 
sing  to  Thy  Name  by  the  sea-shore;  together  did  all  praise  and  own 
Thee  King,  and  say,  Jehovah  shall  reign,  world  without  end !  Blessed 
be  the  God  Who  saveth  Israel.' 

This  prayer  finished,  he  who  officiated  took  his  place  before  the 
Ark,  and  there  repeated  what  formed  the  prayer  in  the  strictest  sense, 
or  certain  '  Eulogies  '  or  Benedictions.  These  arc  eighteen,  or  rather 
nineteen,  in  number,  and  date  from  ditterent  periods.  But  as  on 
Sabbaths  only  the  three  first  and  the  three  last  of  them,  which  are  also 
those  undoubtedly  of  greatest  age,  were  repeated,  and  between  them 
certain  other  prayers  inserted,  only  these  six,  with  which  the  series 
respectively  began  and  ended,  need  here  find  a  place.  The  first  Bene- 
diction was  said  with  bent  body.     It  was  as  follows: — 

I,  '  Blessed  be  the  Lord  our  God,  and  the  God  of  our  fathers,  the 
God  of  Abraham,  and  the  God  of  Isaac,  and  the  God  of  Jacob;  the 
Great,  the  Mighty,  and  the  Terrible  God,  the  Most  High  God,  Who 
showeth  mercy  and  kindness.  Who  createth  all  things.  Who  re- 
membereth  the  graci(jus  promises  to  the  fathers,  and  bringeth  a 
Saviour  to  their  ehildi-eii's  children,  for  His  own  Name's  sake,  in 


SYNA(;()(jrE-lM{AVERS. 


441 


lovo.      0  Kiiiii',    IIclpoi',    Saviour,  and  Shield  !      Blessed    art.    Thou, 
0  Jehovah,  the  Shield  of  Ahi-ahani.' 

II.  '  Thou  0  Lord,  art  mighty  for  ever;  Thou.  AA'lio  quickenest 
the  dead,  art  mighty  to  save.  In  Thy  mercy  Thou  preservest  the 
living.  Thou  (piickenest  the  dead;  in  Thine  al)undant  pity  Tluni 
bearest  uj)  those  who  fall,  and  healest  those  who  are  diseased,  and 
loosest  those  who  are  bound,  and  fulfillest  Thy  faithful  word  to  those 
who  sleep  in  the  dust.  Who  is  like  unto  Thee,  Lord  of  strength,  and 
who  can  be  compared  to  Thee,  Who  killest  and  makest  alive,  and 
causcst  salvation  to  spring  forth?  And  faithful  art  Thou  to  give 
life  to  the  i\i'i\(\.  Blessed  art  Thou,  Jehovah,  Who  (juickenest  the 
dead!' 

III.  '  Thou  art  Holy,  and  Thy  name  is  Holy.  Selah.  Blessed 
art  Thou  Jehovah  God,  the  Holy  One. ' 

After  this,  such  prayers  were  inserted  as  were  suited  to  the  day. 
And  here  it  may  be  noticed  that  considerable  latitude  was  allowed. 
For,  although''  it  was  not  lawful  to  insert  any  petition  in  the  three 
first  or  the  three  last  PJulogies,  but  only  in  the  intermediate  Benedic- 
tions, in  practice  this  was  certainly  not  observed.  Thus,  although, 
by  the  rubric,  ])rayer  for  rain  and  dew  was  to  be  inserted  u\)  to  the 
season  of  the  Passover  in  the  ninth  Benediction,  yet  occasionally 
reference  to  this  seems  also  to  have  been  made  in  the  second  Benedic- 
tion, as  connected  with  the  quickening  of  that  which  is  dead."  Nay, 
some  Rabbis  went  so  far  as  to  recommend  a  brief  summary  of  the 
eighteen  Eulogies,  while  yet  another  (R.  Eliczer)  repudiated  all 
fixed  forms  of  prayer.^  But  gradually,  and  especially  after  thv,  inser- 
tion of  the  well-known  prayer  against  the  heretics  or  rather  Christian 
converts  (Eulogy  XI.'-),  the  present  order  of  the  eighteen  Eulogies 
(Amidah)  seems  to  have  been  established.  Both  the  Jerusalem"  ami 
the  Babylon  Talmud ''  contain  nnieh  on  this  subject  which  is  of  very 
great  interest.^ 

Following  the  order  of  the  service,  we  now  come  to  the  conclud- 
ing Eulogies,  which  were  as  follows  : — 

XV^II.   (XYI.)   '  Take  gracious  pleasure,  O  Jehovah  our  (iod,  in 


CHAP. 

X 


»  According 
to  Ber.  34  a 


".Ter.  Ber. 
iv.  3  to  end 

■i  Ber.  33  a 
&c. 


'  There  is  even  doubt,  whether  the  e.\- 
act  words  of  at  least  some  of  the  Bene- 
dictions were  ti.\ed  at  an  early  period. 
See  Ziinz,  u.  s. 

'-'  Originally  the  enlo2;ies  were  eiiiiiteen 
in  nuniiier.  The  addition  of  tiuit  against 
the  heretics  would  iiave  made  them  nine- 
teen. Accordingly,  Eulogy  xv.,  whicli 
prayed  for  the  coming  of  the  Branch  of 


David,  was  joined  to  the  previous  one  in 
order  to  preserve  the  number  eighteen. 
Comp.  Jer.  Ber.  iv.  8.  It  is  sadly  char- 
acteristic tluit,  together  witii  a  curse 
ui)on  Christian  converts,  the  Messianic 
hope  of  Israel  should  tinis  Iiave  been 
pushed  into  the  background. 

'■'  For  the  sake  of  brevity,  I  can  only 
liere  refer  the  reader  to  the  passages. 


412 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


ij()()K      'riiv  i)('()i)le  Israel  and  in  their  i)ravors,  and  in  love  accept  the  burnt- 
Ill        ofl'erings  ol"  Israel,  and  their  prayers  with  Thy  good   pleasure,  and 
— <^''~^   may  the  services  of  Thy  people  be  ever  acceptable  unto  Thee.     And 
O  that  our  eyes  may  see  it,  as  Thou  turnest  in  mercy  to  Zion.    Blessed 
be  Thou,  0  Jehovah,  Who  restoretli  His  Shekhinah  to  Zion.' 

XVIII.  (XYII.)  In  saying  this  Eulogy,  which  was  simply  one  of 
thanks,  it  was  ordered  that  all  should  bend  down.  It  was  as  follows  : 
— '  We  give  praise  to  Thee,  because  Thou  art  He,  Jehovah,  our  God, 
and  the  God  of  our  fathers,  for  ever  and  ever.  The  Rock  of  our  life, 
the  Shield  of  our  salvation.  Thou  art  He,  from  generation  to  genera- 
tion. We  laud  Thee,  and  declare  Thy  praise.  For  our  lives  which 
are  bound  up  in  Thine  Hand,  for  our  souls  which  are  committed  to 
Thee,  and  for  Thy  wonders  which  are  with  us  every  day  and  for  Thy 
marvellous  deeds  and  Thy  goodnesses  which  are  at  all  seasons,  evening, 
and  morning,  and  midday — Thou  Gracious  One,  for  Thy  compassions 
never  end.  Thou  Pitying  One,  for  Thy  mercies  never  cease,  for  ever 
do  we  put  our  trust  in  Thee.  And  for  all  this,  blessed  and  exalted  be 
Thj'  Xame,  our  King,  always,  world  without  end.  And  all  the  living 
bless  Thee — Selah — and  praise  Thy  Name  in  truth,  0  God,  our 
Salvation  and  our  Help.  Selah.  Blessed  art  Thou,  Jehovah.  The 
Gracious  One  is  Thy  Name,  and  to  Thee  it  is  pleasant  to  give  praise.' 

After  this  the   priests,  if  any  were  in  the  Synagogue,  spoke  the 

)t.  vii.  6    blessing,  elevating  their  hands  up  to  the  shoulders ''  (in  the  Temple 

above  the  head).     This  was  called  the  lifting  up  of  hands.''     In  the 

Synagogue  the  priestly  blessing   was  spoken   in  three  sections,  the 

people  each  time  responding  h\  an  Amen."    Lastly,  in  the  Synagogue, 

the  word  '  Adonai '   was  substituted  for  Jehovah.' '     If  no  descend- 

^^^^{^a^'   ants  of  Aaron  were  present,  the   leader   of  the   devotions   repeated 

Numb.  vi.   tlic  usual  pricstly  benediction.''     After  the  benediction  followed  the 

last  Eulogy,  which,  m  its  abbreviated  form  (as  presently  used  m  the 

Evening  Service),  is  as  follows  : — 

XIX.  (XYIII.)  '0  bestow  on  Thy  people  Israel  great  peace  for 
ever.  For  Thou  art  King,  and  Lord  of  all  peace.  And  it  is  good  in 
Thine  eyes  to  bless  Thy  people  Israel  at  all  times  and  at  every  hour 
with  Thy  peace.  Blessed  art  Thou,  Jehovah,  Who  blesseth  His 
people  Israel  with  peace!' 

It  was  the  practice  of  leading  Rabbis,  probably  dating  from  very 
early  times,  to  add  at  the  close  of  this  Eulogy  certain  prayers  of  their 


''  Comp. 
1  Tim.  ii.  8 


■=  Sot.  37  b 
38a 

I  Siphre  on 


'  Minor  differences  need  not  here  be  detailed,  espacially  as  they  are  by  no  means 
certain. 


TIIK    BENEDICTION. 


443 


own,  cither  fixed  oi-  I'ree,  ol' which  the  'rahiiud  gives  specinioiis.  From 
very  early  times  also,  the  custom  seems  to  have  obtained  that  the 
descendants  of  Aaron,  belore  pronouncing  the  blessing,  put  off"  their 
shoes.  In  the  benediction  the  priests  turned  towards  the  people, 
while  he  who  led  the  ordinary  prayers  stood  with  his  back  to  the 
ptjople,  looking  towards  the  Sanctuary.  The  superstition,  that  it  was 
unlawful  to  look  at  the  priests  while  they  spoke  the  blessing,"  must 
be  n^gardcd  as  of  later  date.  According  to  the  Mishnali,  they  who 
pronounce  the  benediction  must  have  no  blemish  on  their  hands,  face, 
or  feet,  so  as  not  to  attract  attention;  but  this  presumably  refers  to 
those  officiating  in  the  Temple.^  It  is  a  curious  statement,  that 
priests  from  certain  cities  in  Galilee  were  not  allowed  to  speak  the 
words  of  blessing,  because  their  pronounciation  of  the  gutturals  was 
misleading."  According  to  the  Jerusalem  Talmud, '  moral  blemishes, 
or  even  sin,  did  not  disqualify  a  priest  from  pronouncing  the  benedic- 
tion, since  it  was  really  God,  and  not  man,  Who  gave  the  blessing.^ 
On  the  other  hand,  strict  sobriety  was  insisted  on  on  such  occasions. 
Later  Judaism  used  the  priestly  benediction  as  a  means  for  counter- 
acting the  effects  of  evil  dreams.  The  public  prayers  closed  with  an 
Amen,  spoken  by  the  congregation. 

The  liturgical  part  being  thus  completed,  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant, indeed,  what  had  been  the  primary  object  of  the  Synagogue 
service,  began.  The  Chazzan,  or  minister,  approached  the  Ark,  and 
brought  out  a  roll  of  the  Law.  It  was  taken  from  its  case  {teq,  teqah), 
and  unwound  from  those  cloths  (mitpachoth)  which  held  it.  The 
time  had  now  come  for  the  reading. of  portions  from  the  Law  and  the 
Prophets.  On  the  Sabbath,  at  least  seven  persons  were  called  upon 
successively  to  read  portions  from  the  Law,  none  of  them  consisting 
of  less  than  three  verses.  On  the  'days  of  congregation'  (Monday 
and  Thursday),  three  persons  were  called  up;  on  New  Moon's  Day, 
and  on  the  intermediate  days  of  a  festive  week,  four;  on  feast  days, 
five;  and  on  the  Day  of  Atonement,  six.^     No  doubt,  there  was  even 


CHAP. 
X 


"ChaK.  k; 


''Megni.-i4'' 

<-Jer.  Gitl. 
V.  9.  p  47  ^ : 
comp. 
Ihtschak, 
Jiid.  Kul- 
tus.  i>.  -.iTO 


'  It  seems  also  to  liave  been  the  rule, 
that  they  must  wash  their  hands  Ijefore 
pronouncing  the  benediction  (Sot.  39  a). 

-  The  question  is  discussed:  first,  who 
blessed  the  priests  ?  and,  secondly,  wliat 
part  God  had  in  that  benediction  ?  The 
answer  will  readily  be  guessed  (Chull.  4!) 
a).  Tn  Sipln-e  on  Numbers,  i)ar.  48,  the 
words  are  quoted  (Numb.  vi.  27)  to  show 
that  the  Ijlessing  came  fi'oni  God,  and  not 
from,  altluough  tln'ougii,  the  priests.  In 
Bemidb.  R.   11  ed.   Warsh.  iv.  i).  40  n 


there  is  a  beautiful  prayer,  in  which  Israel 
declares  that  it  only  needs  the  blessing  ol 
God,  according  to  Deut.  xxvi.  15.  on 
which  the  answer  comes,  that  although 
the  priests  bring  the  benediction,  it  is  (lod 
Who  stands  and  blesses  His  ixM>i)le.  Ac- 
cordingly, the  benediction  of  the  [irie-sts 
is  only  the  symbol  of  God's  blessing. 

•^  For  these  dillerent  numbers  very 
curious  symbolical  reasons  are  assigned 
(Megill.  23  <i). 


444 


FROM    .I(»i;i)AX    TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


HOOK 
III 


•  Meg.  -i'J  b 

''  -Tor. 
Sliabb. 
xvi.  1: 
Sopher.xvi. 
10 


«  Comp. 
Megill.  31  (' 

«  Gltt.  59  6 


:  Megill  iv. 


fComp. 
ICor.  xiv. 

27,  28 


in  ancient  times  a  lectionary,  though  certainly  not  that  presently  in 
use,  which  occupies  exactly  a  year.'  On  the  contrary,  the  Palestinian 
lectionary  occupied  three  "or,  according  to  some,  three  and  a  half 
years,''  lialf  a  Sabbatic  period.  Accordingly,  we  find  that  the  Mas- 
sorah  divides  the  Pentateuch  into  154  sections.  In  regard  to  the 
lectionary  of  three  and  a  half  years  we  read  of  175  sections.  It  re- 
(juires,  however,  to  be  borne  in  mind,  that  preparatory  to,  and  on 
certain  festive  days,  the  ordinary  reading  was  interrupted,  and  por- 
tk)ns  substituted  which  bore  on  the  subject  of  the  feast.  Possibly,  at 
difi'erent  periods  different  cycles  may  have  obtained — those  for  three 
and  a  half  years,  three  j'ears,  and  even  for  one  year.''  ^  According  to 
the  Talmud,'^  a  descendant  of  Aaron  was  always  called  up  first  to  the 
reading;^  then  followed  a  Levite,  and  afterwards  five  ordinary 
Israelites.  As  this  practice,  as  well  as  that  of  priestly  benediction,* 
has  been  continued  in  the  Synagogue  from  father  to  son,  it  is  possible 
still  to  know  who  are  descendants  of  Aaron,  and  who  Levites.  The 
reading  of  the  Law  was  both  preceded  and  followed  by  brief  Bene- 
dictions. 

Upon  the  Law  followed  a  section  from  the  Prophets,*  the  so-called 
Haphtarah.^  The  origin  of  this  practice  is  not  known,  although  it  is 
one  that  must  evidently  have  met  a  requirement  on  the  part  of  the 
worshippers.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  present  lectionary  from  the 
Prophets  did  not  exist  in  early  times;  nor  does  it  seem  unlikely  that 
the  choice  of  the  passage  was  left  to  the  reader  himself.  At  any  rate, 
as  regarded  the  ordinary  Sabbath  days,''  we  are  told  that  a  reader  might 
omit  one  or  more  verses,  provided  there  w^as  no  break.  As  the  Hebrew 
was  not  generally  understood,  the  Methurgeman,  or  Interpreter,  stood 
by  the  side  of  the  reader,^  and  translated  into  the  Aramaean  verse 
by   verse,    and   in   the  section  from  the  Proi)hets,  or  Haphtarah, 


'  This  division  seems  to  have  origin- 
ated in  Babylon.  Comp.  Zioiz,  Gottesd. 
Vortr.  pp.  3,  4. 

-  Comp.  Duschak,  Gescb.  des  jiid. 
Cultus,  pp.  251-258. 

^  Some  of  the  leading  Rabbis  resisted 
this  iiractice,  and  declared  that  a  Rabbi 
who  yielded  to  it  deserved  death  (Megill. 
28  a;  comp.  Megill.  22  a.  See  generally 
Duschak,  u.  a.  p.  255). 

*  Every  descendant  of  Aaron  in  the 
Synagogue  is  bound  to  join  in  the  act  of 
benediction,  on  pahi  of  forfeiture  of  the 
blessing  on  himself,  accordhig  to  Gen. 
xii.  3.  Otherwise  he  transgresses  three 
commands,  contained  in  Numb.  vi.  27 
(Sot.  38  //_).  .The  present  mode  of  divid- 
ing the  fingers  when   pronouncing   the 


blessing  is  justified  by  an  ai)peal  to  Cant, 
ii.  9  (Bemidb.  R.  11),  although  no  doubt 
the  origin  of  the  practice  is  mystical. 

5  The  reasons  commonly  assigned  for 
it  are  unhistorical.  Com]).  '  Sketches  of 
.Jewish  Life,'  p.  278.  Tlie  term  Haph- 
tarah, or  rather  Aphtarali  M^AAplitarta, 
is  derived  ivom  ^^atar,  to  dismiss — either, 
like  the  Latin  Missa,  because  it  ended 
the  general  service,  or  else  because  the 
valedictory  discourse,  called  ApJitnrah, 
was  connected  with  it. 

^  In  a  few  places  in  Babylon  (Shabb. 
116  h),  lessons  from  the  Ilagiographa 
were  read  at  afternoon  services.  Besides, 
on  Purim  the  whole  Book  of  Esther  was 
read. 


TIIK   Si:i!M()N.  445 

after  every  tlu-ee  verses. '     l>iit  the  jMcthnrrjeman  was  not  allowed  to     ciiaf. 
read  his  translation,  lest  it  niii>;ht  i)oi)ularly  be  reii'arded  as  autiiorita-         X 
tive.     This  may  lielp  us  in  some  measure  to  understand  the  i)oi)ular  ^- — ~  r — ' 
mode  of  Old  Testament  quotations  in  the  New  Testament.     So  long   •Megm.24a 
as  the  substanee  of  the  text  was  given  eorreetl}',  the  Mcfhurgoitax 
might  paraphrase  for  better  popular  understanding.     Again,  it  is  but 
natural  to  suppose,  that  the  Methurgeman  would  prepare  himself  for 
his  work  by  such  materials  as  he  would  find  to  hand,  among  which,  of 
course,  the  translation  of  the  LXX.  would  hold  a  prominent  place. 
This  may  in  part  account  alike  for  the  employment  of  the  LXX.,  and 
for  its  Targumic  modifications,  in  the  New  Testament  quotations. 

The  reading  of  the  section  from  the  Prophets  (the  Haphtarali) 
was  in  olden  times  immediately  followed  by  an  address,  discourse,  or 
sermon  (Derashah),  that  is,  where  a  Rabbi  capable  of  giving  such 
instruction,  or  a  distinguished  stranger,  w^as  present.  Neither  the 
leader  of  the  devotions  ( '  the  delegate  of  the  congregation '  in  this  mat- 
ter, or  Sliel'iacJi  Tsibbur),  nor  the  Methurgeman,  nor  3'et  the  preacher, 
required  ordination.'  That  was  reserved  for  the  rule  of  the  congre- 
gation, whether  in  legislation  or  administration,  doctrine  or  discii)line. 

The  only  points  required  in  the  i)rea('her  were  the  necessary  quali- 
fications, both  mental  and  moral. ^  When  a  great  Rabbi  enq^loyed  a 
Metliurgeman  to  explain  to  the  i)eople  his  sermon,  he  would,  of 
course,  select  him  for  the  purpose.  Such  an  interpreter  was  also 
called  A mora,  or  speaker.  Perhaps  the  Rabbi  would  whisi)er  to  him 
his  remarks,  while  he  would  repeat  them  aloud;  or  else  he  would 
only  condescend  to  give  hints,  which  the  Amora  would  amj)lity;  or 
he  would  speak  in  Hebrew,  and  the  ^Imora  translate  it  into  Aramajan, 
Greek,  Latin,  or  whatever  the  language  of  the  people  might  be,  for 
the  sermon  must  reach  the  people  in  the  vulgar  tongue.  The  Amora 
w^ould  also,  at  the  close  of  the  sermon,  answer  (juestions  or  meet 
objections.  If  the  preacher  was  a  very  great  num,  he  Avould,  perhaps, 
not  condescend  to  connnunicate  Avith  the  Amora  directly,  but  enq^lo^' 
one  of  his  students  as  a  middleman.  This  was  also  the  practice 
when  the  preacher  was  in  mourning  for  a  very  near  relative — for  so 
important  Avas  his  office  that  it  must  not  be  interrupted,  even  by  the 
sorrows  or  the  religious  o])li<i-atioiis  of  '  mourn inu".'"  'MoedK 

'^  '  '  21(1 

'  At  a  later  period,  however,  ordina-  wlio  were  ordained   and  did   not  pn-aeli 

tion  seems  to  have  been   required   for  (Sot.  22  a). 

preachinfj.     By  a  curious  Rabljinic  e\e-  -  Tims,   we  have  a  sayiim'  of  the  tirst 

fi;esis,  the  tirst  clause  of  Prov.  vii.  2(i  was  century  '  You  preach  beautifully,  but  you 

applied  to  those  who  preached  without  do   not   i)ractice   beautifully  '  (Cliag.   14 

ordination,  and  the  second  clause  to  those  ft;  Yebani.  (iS  ft). 


446  VllOM    .lORDAN   TO   TIIK    MOINT   OK   TRANSFIGURATION. 

iJooK  ludced,    .Icwinli  tradition   uses  the  iiio.st  extravagant  terms   to 

111         extol  the  institution  of  preaching.     To  say  tiiat  it  glorified  God,  and 

^- — ^. — ^   brought  men  back,  or- at  least  nearer  to  Him,  or  that  it  quenched  the 

soul's  thirst,  was  as  nothing.     The  little  city,  weak  and  besieged,  but 

"Ecoi.ix.  15  d(^liveredby  the  wise  man  in  it,^'  served  as  symbol  of  the  benefit  which 

the  preacher  conferred  on  his  hearers.     The  Divine  Spirit  rested  on 

liiiii,    and   his  office  conferred  as  much   merit  on  him  as   if  he  had 

'Ab.  dell,     oilered  both  the  blood  and  tlie  fat  upon  the  altar  of  burnt  offering.'' 
Nath.  1  .  ... 

No  wonder  that  tradition  traced  the  institution  back  to  Moses,  who 

had  directed  that,  previous  to,  and  on  the  various  festivals,  addresses, 

explanatory  of  their  rites,  and  enforcing  them,  should  be  delivered  to 

•^^ Meg. in      the  people."'      The  Targum  Jonathan  assumes  the  practice  in  the 

'iTarguiii      tunc  of  tlic  Judgcs;''  the  men  of  the  Great  Synagogue  arc,  of  course, 

2.  •'  credited  with  it,  and  Shemayali  and  Abhtalyon  are  expressly  desig- 

<■  Darsiut-       nated  as  '  preachers. "'     How  general  the  practice  was  in  the  time  of 

7o";    ""       Jesus  and  His  Apostles,  the  reader  of  the  New  Testament  need  not 

'Ag.Ap.il.   be  told,  and  its  witness  is  fullv  borne  out  ])y  Joseph  us  ^  and  Philo." 

18  '  •  "  . 

=iii  Fiacc,    Both  the  Jerusalem  and  the  Babylon  Talmud  assume  it  as  so  common, 

p';'s)7/f<ie     fhat  in  several  passages    'Sabbath-observance"   and    the   '  Sabbath- 

p.'hw^Leg.    sermon "    are    identified.       Long   before    Hillel   we    read  of  Rabbis 

idili'ioas^^"    pi'caching — in  Greek  or  Latin — in  the  Jewish  Synagogues  of  Rome," 

•  For  ex.       iust  as  the  Apostles  preached  in  Greek  in  the  Synagogues  of  the  dis- 

persed.     That  this  practice,  and  the  absolute  liberty  of  teaching, 

subject   to    the   authority    of    the    '  chief  ruler   of    the    Synagogue,' 

formed  important  links  in  the  Christianisation  of  the  world,  is  another 

evidence  of  that  wonder-working  Rule  of  God,  which  brings  about 

marvellous  results  through  the  orderly  and  natural  succession  of  events 

— nay,  orders  these  means  with  the  view  to  their  ultimate  issue. 

But  this  is  not  all.  We  have  materials  for  drawing  an  accurate 
picture  of  the  preacher,  the  congregation,  and  the  sermon,  as  in 
those  days.  We  are,  of  course,  only  speaking  of  the  public  addresses 
in  the  Synagogues  on  Sabbaths — not  of  those  delivered  at  other 
times  or  in  other  places.  Some  great  Ral)bi,  or  famed  preacher,  or 
else  a  distinguished  stranger,  is  known  to  be  in  the  town.  He  would, 
of  course,  be  asked  by  the  ruler  of  the  Synagogue  to  deliver  ;i  dis- 
course. But  who  is  a  great  ijreachei'y  We  know  that  siu'h  a 
reputation  was  much  coveted,  and  conferred  on  its  jjossessor  great 
distinction.  The  popular  preache)-  was  a  i)owcr,  and  (piite  as  much 
an  ol)ject  of  jiopular  homage  and  ffattery  as  in  our  days.  Many  a 
learned  Rabbi  l)itterly  complained  on  finding  his  ponderous  expositions 
neglected,  whi](»  the  multitude  ]mslHMl   and  crowded  into  the  neigh- 


THK    I'OlTI.Ai;    I'lJKACIIKi;. 


44: 


hoiiriii^-  Syiuig-ogue  to  hear  tho  (UH-laiiiatioiis  of  some  sluillow  i)()i)iilar     CHAP. 
Hag^adirft.'     Aud  so  it  fame,   tliat  many  eultivated  this  braneli  of         X 
theology.      When  a  popular  preacher  was  expected,  men  crowded    — ^  - — 
the  area  of  the  Synagogue,  while  women  filled  the  gallery."     On  sucii    •  su.-. .  ..i /. 
occasions,  there  was  the  additional  satisfaction  of  feeling  that  they 
had  done  something  specially  meritorious  in  running  with  quick  steps. 
and  crowding  into  the  Synagogue.''     For,  was  il  not  to  cany  out  the  i}jer.  o/- 
.spirit  of  Hos.  vi.    3;  xi.   10 — at  least,  as  Kabbinically   undc^rstood/ 
p]ven  grave  Rabbis  joined  in  this  '  pursuit  to  know  the   Lord,"  and 
one  of  them  comes  to  the   somewhat   caustic  conclusion,  that   'the 
]"eward  of  a  discourse  is  the   haste.'''      However.   nioi-(>    unworthy    isor.  iw- 
motives  sometimes  influenced  some  of  the  audience,  and  a    Talniiidic 
passage'  traces  the  cause  of  many  fiists   to  the  meetings  of  the  two  "Kiu.i.sirt 
sexes  on  such  occasions. 

The  type  of  a  popular  })reacher  was  not  very  ditfcrent  from  wliat 
in  our  days  would  form  his  chief  requisites.  He  ought  to  have 
a  good  figure,''  a  pleasant  expression,  and  melodious  voice  (his  words  'Taan. le.?. 
ought  to  be  '  like  those  of  the  bride  to  the  bridegroom'),  fiuencv.  '■/<'//,■, u. s. p. 
speech  '  sweet  as  honey,'  '  pleasant  as  milk  and  honey  ' — ■  finely  siftetl 
like  fine  flour,"  a  diction  richly  adorned.  '  like  a  bride  on  her  wedding- 
day;  '  and  sufficient  confidence  in  his  own  knowledge  and  self- 
assurance  never  to  be  disconcerted.  Above  all  he  must  be  conciliatory, 
and  avoid  being  too  personal.  Moses  had  addressed  Israel  as  rebellious 
and  hard-hearted,  and  he  was  not  allowed  to  bring  them  into  the  land 
of  promise.  Elijah  had  upbraided  them  with  having  broken  the 
covenant,  and  Elisha  was  immediately  appointed  his  successor.  Even 
Isaiah  had  his  lips  touched  with  burning  coals,  because  he  s])oke  of 
dwelliuii;  among  a  peoi)le  of  sinful  lips.' -     As  for  the  mental    (lualifi-   fY.iikutii. 

toll  1  1  p.i-.i,,.  I,e- 

<^atit)ns()f  the  preacher,  he  must  know  his  I>d)le  well.     Asa  bndekiiows   frhnunfr 

'  lu  Sot.  40  a  we  have  an  account  of  'Woe  unti)  liim   tliat  saitli  to   tlic  wood, 

how  a  iiopular  preacher  comforted  iiis  A\val<e;    to   tlie   dunili   !<toiie.    Arit-e.    it 

deserted  lirother  theoloirian  by  tlie  foi-  sliall  teacli  !' (Saiili.   7  h).     It  was  prolja- 

lowiiii;- i)aral)le:   '  Two  men  met  in  a  city.  Idy  on   account   of  isudi  scenes,  that  tiie 

tlie  one  to  sell  jewels  and  precious  things.  Nasi  was  not  allowed  afterwards   to  or- 

Ihe  other  toys,  tinsel,  and  trifles.     Tlien  dain  without  the  consent    of  the  Sanhe- 

till  the  ])eople  ran  to  the  latter  sho)).  he-  drin. 

cause  they  did  not  understand  the  wares  -  In  coiniection  with   this  the  proveil) 

of  the   former.     A  curious    instance    of  ([uoted   in   the    New  Testament   is   thuH 

Itopular  wit  is  the  followin<i;:  It  was  ex-  tised  by   Rabl)i     Tari)hoii:     'I    wonder 

pected   that  a    person     lately   ordained  whether  anyone  at  jiresent  would  accept 

y^hould  deliver  a  discourse  before  the  jteo-  i-eproof.     If  you  said.  Remove  the  mote 

pie.    The  time  came,  Jjut   the  ISlethurfic-  from  thine  eye,    he   would    innnediately 

mail   in  vain    bent  his    ear  closer  antl  reply.  First  remove  the  beam  out  of  tliine 

•closer.      It   was   evident   that    the   new  own  eye'  (Aracli.    IC  b).     May   this  not 

preacher  had  noUiinii;  to  say.     On  which  indicate  how  very  widely  the  saying's  of 

the  Methiirijeniftn  quoted  Habak.  ii.  I'.i:  ("lirist  \va<\  spreail  anion*;  the  i)eople? 


448 


FROM  JORDAN  TO  THE  MOUNT  OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
HI 


"  Com  p. 
Zuuz, 
Gottesd. 
\ortr.  jiji. 
101-106,  aol 


•■As  in  Ber. 
E.  14 

<-Shem.  R. 
15 


jji-opcii}^  to  make  use  of  her  twenty-four  oriiaiiients,  so  must  the 
l)reiU'hcr  of  the  twenty-four  books  of  the  BiWe.  He  must  carefully 
prepare  his  subject — he  is  '  to  hear  himself  before  the  people  hear  him. 
But  whatever  else  he  may  be  or  do,  he  must  be  attractive.'  In  earlier 
times  the  sermon  mis2:ht  have  consisted  of  a  simi)l(?  exposition  of  some 
passages  from  Scripture,  or  the  Book  of  Sirach,  which  latter  was 
treated  and  quoted  by  some  of  the  Rabbis  almost  as  if  it  had  been 
canonical. "^  But  this,  or  the  full  discussion  of  a,  single  text"  (""p,  to 
l)ore),  would  probably  not  be  so  attractive  as  the  adaptation  of  a  text 
to  present  circumstances,  or  even  its  modification  and  alteration  for 
such  purposes.  There  were  scarcely  bounds  to  the  liberties  taken  by 
the  preacher.  lie  would  divide  a  sentence,  cut  olf  one  or  two  syllables 
from  a  word  and  join  theui  to  the  next,  so  producing  a  different 
meaning,  or  giving  a  new  interpretation  to  a  text.  Perhaps  the 
strangest  method  was  that  of  introducing  Greek  words  and  expressions 
into  the  Hebrew,  and  this  not  only  to  give  a  witty  repartee,"  but  in 
illustration  of  Scripture. "^  Xay,  many  instances  occur,  in  which  a 
Hebrew  word  is,  from  the  similarity  of  its  sound  with  the  Greekj 
rendered  as  if  it  were  actually  Greek,  and  thus  a  new  meaning  is  given 
to  a  passage.^ 

If  such  licence  was  taken,  it  seems  a  comparatively  small  thing 
that  a  doctrine  was  derived  from  a  word,  a  particle,  or  even  a  letter. 
But,  as  already  stated,  the  great  point  was  to  attract  the  hearers. 
Parables,  stories,  allegories,  witticisms,  strange  and  foreign  words, 
absurd  legends,  in  short,  anything  fliat  might  startle  an  audience, 
was  introduced.*     Sometimes  a  discourse  was  entirely  Haggadic;  at 


1  Evon  tlie  celebrated  R.  Eliezor  had 
the  misfortune  that,  at  a  festival,  iii.s 
hearers  one  by  one  stohj  out  diirinir  the 
sermon  (Bez.  1.')  h).  On  the  other  liand, 
it  is  said  of  R.  Akiba,  altliou2;li  liis  suc- 
cess as  a  preaclier  was  very  varied,  that 
liis  api)lication  to  Israel  of  the  sufferings 
of  Job  and  of  his  final  deliverance  moved 
his  hearers  to  tears  (Ber.  R.  ?,'.>). 

^  See  Ziinz,  (xottesd.  Vortr.  \).  352, 
Note  b. 

■^  Thus,  in  Tanch.  on  Ex.  xxii.  24  (ed. 
War.sli.  p.  10,5  a  and  h,  sect.  15,  towards 
tiie  end),  the  expression  in  Deut.  xv.  7. 
'  MeacliiUha,'  from  thy  Ijrother,  is  i-ender- 
ed  '/")  acliikha,'  not  tliy  brother.  Sim- 
ilarly, in  tiie  Pesiqta,  the  statenu?nt  ui 
G-en.  xxii.  7,  8,  •  God  will  provide  Him- 
self a  laml)  for  a  burnt-offerini^.'  is  para- 
phrasi'(l.  -And  if  not  a  St^h  (iamb)  for 
a  burnt-offerinii;,  my  .son.  6e  (thee)  for  a 
burnt  offering.     It  is  added,  '  se  leolaii  is 


Greek,  meaning,  thou  art  the  buriit- 
offering.'  But  the  Greek  in  the  forniei" 
])assage  is  also  explained  l)y  rendering  I  he 
'  acliikha  '  as  an  Aramaic  form  oieoiKa, 
in  which  case  it  would  targumically 
mean  •  Withliold  not  thy  hand  from  tiie 
jioor,  who  is  like  to  thee."  Comp.  the  in- 
teresting tractate  of  Bri'dl  (Fremdspr. 
Redens.  p.  21).  A  play  upon  Greek 
words  is  also  supposed  to  occur  in  the 
Midrasli  on  Cant.  ii.  9,  wlicrc  tlie  word 
'dodi,'  by  omitting  the  .second  '/,  and 
transposing  the  nod  and  the  rnr.  is  made 
into  the  Greek  6ioi.  divine.  But  I  confe.s.s. 
Idoiiot  feel  quite  sure  aboutthis,  although 
it  has  tlie  countenance  of  Lcri/.  In  the 
]\Iidrash  on  Cant,  ii,  15,  a  whole  Greek 
sentence  is  inserted,  only  Aramaically 
written.  See  also  Sar/is,  Beitr.  ])p.  11)  A'C, 
'  Thus,  wlien  on  one  occasion  the  hearers 
of  Akiba  were  going  to  sleep  during  his 
•sermon,  he  called  out:   '  Why  was  E.sther 


ti;eat.mi-:.\t  of  a  subject.  449 

otlier.s,  tlie  Haggadah  .served  to  iiiti'oduce  the  Halakhali.  8(jnietiiiies  cilAP. 
the  object  ortho  preacher  was  ])urely  lioniiletical;  at  others,  he  (h-ah  X 
ehietlv  with  the  exi)]aiiatiou  of  S('ri})ture,  or  ol"  the  rites  and  iiieaniiig  ^—^ ,^ — - 
of  lestivals.  A  favourite  method  was  that  which  (h'rived  its  name 
Iroiii  the  stringing  togetlier  of  [)earls  [Charaz),  when  ;i  pi'eaeher, 
liaving  quoted  a  i)assage  or  section  iroin  tlie  J'entateucli,  strung  on 
to  it  another  and  I i ice-sounding,  or  really  siniihir,  from  the  Prophets 
ami  the  Hagiograj)ha.  Or  else  he  would  divide  a  sentence,  generally 
under  three  heads,  and  connect  with  each  of  the  clauses  a  separate 
doctrine,  and  then  try  to  support  it  by  Scrii)ture.  It  is  easy  to 
imagine  to  what  lengths  such  })reachers  might  go  in  their  misinter- 
pretation and  misi'cpresentations  of  the  plain  text  of  Holy  Scri{)ture. 
And  yet  a  collection  of  short  expositions  (the  Fcsiqta),  which,  though 
not  dating  from  that  period,  mayj^et  fairly  l)e  taken  as  giving  a  good 
idea  of  this  nu'thod  of  exjjosition,  contains  not  a  little  that  is  fresh, 
earnest,  useful,  and  devotional.  It  is  interesting  to  know  that,  at 
the  close  of  his  address,  the  preacher  very  generally  referred  to  the 
great  Messianic  hope  of  Israel.  The  service  closed  with  a  short 
l)rayer,  or  what  we  would  term  an  '  ascription.' 

We  can  now  j)icture  to  ourselves  the  Synagogue,  its  worship,  and 
teaching.  We  can  see  the  leader  of  the  people's  devotions  as  (accord- 
ing to  Talmudic  direction)  he  first  refuses,  with  mock-modesty,  the 
honour  conferred  on  him  by  the  chief  ruler;  then,  when  urged,  pre- 
pares to  go;  and  when  pressed  a  third  time,  goes  up  with  slow  and 
measured  steps  to  the  lectern,  and  then  before  the  Ark.  ^Xv  can 
imagine  how  one  after  another,  standing  and  facing  the  people,  un- 
rolls and  holds  in  his  hand  a  copy  of  the  Law  or  of  the  Prophets,  and 
reads  from  the  Sacred  Word,  thv  3rethurgein(:in  mtor\)vctini>:.  Finally, 
we  can  picture  it,  how  the  i)reacher  would  sit  down  and  begin  his  dis- 
course, none  interrujjting  him  with  questions  till  he  had  tlnished, 
when  a  succession  of  objections,  answers,  or  inquiries  might  aAvait  the 
Ainora,  if  the  pi'cachcr  had  employed  such  help.  And  help  it  cer- 
tainly was  not  in  mniiy  cases,  to  judge  by  the  depreciatory  and  caustic 
remarks,  which  not  unfrequently  occur,  as  to  the  nmnners.  tone, 
vanity,    self-conceit,    and   silliness  of  the  A)ii()r((  '  win),  as  he  stood    "MiUr.on 

Eccl.  Vli.  .'i; 


ix.  17  h 


Queen    in    Persia    over    127    provhices  ?  to  the   quefition,  wlio   ^lie   was:    -It   was 

Answer:  Slie  was  a  descendant  of  Sarali,  .Tochebed,  wlio  bore  Moses,  wlio  is  refl<- 

wlio  lived  127  years  '  (Be r.  K.  58).     On  oned   equal  to  all  tiie  (iOO.OOO  of  Israel' 

a  similar  occasion  R.  Jehudali  startled  (Midr.   Sliir  liaSii.   R.,   ed.  Warsii..  i».  II 

the  sleepers  by  the  question:  'One  woman  A,  towards  tlie  end.  on  Cant.  i.  15). 
in  Eiiypt  bore  600,000  men  in  one  birth.'  •  In  both  these  pa-ssaji-es  •  tlie  fools  '  are 

One  of  his  hearers  immediately  replied  explained  to  refer  to  the  Mcf/na-r/etnaii. 


450  FKOM    .I()i;i)AX    TO    TlIK    MOlXT    OF   THAXSFlGrKATlON. 

BOOK      beside   the    l\al)l)i.    tlinu,<ilit    lar   iiinrc   of   attract iiiii'    attention    and 

in         ai)plause   to  himself,  tlien  of  lienetiting   his  hearers.       Henee   sonic 

"- — -,' —    l{abl)i.s  woidd  only  eniplo}'  speeial  and  trnsted   interi)retcrs  of  their 

"Chaj:.  u«  own,  who  were   above   tifty  years  of  age. '      in  short,  so  far  as  the 

.sermon  was  coneerned,  the  impression    it  produced  must  have  been 

very  similar  to  what   we  know  the   addresses  of  the  nujuks  in  the 

Middle  Ages  to  have  wrought.       All  the  better  can   we  understund, 

even  from  the  human  as])ect.  how  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  alike  in  its 

substance  and  form,  in  its  manner  and  matter,  differed  from  that  of 

tlu'  scrilx's;    how  multitudes   would   hang  entranced  on   His    word; 

and  how,  everywhere  and  by  all.  its  imin-ession  was  felt  to  be  over- 

])owering. 

Hut  it  is  certainly  not  the  human  asi)ect  alone  which  here  claims 
our  attention.  The  i)erplexcd  inquiry:  •  Whence  hath  this  man  this 
wisdom  and  this  knowledge  ?'  must  hud  another  answer  than  the  men 
of  Nazareth  could  suggest,  although  to  those  in  our  days  also  who 
deny  His  Divine  character,  this  must  ever  seem  an  unanswered  and 
iinanswerable  question. 


THE    VISIT    TU    NAZAKETH.  451 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THH    FIRST  (JALIl.KAX    MIXISTHV. 
(St.  Matt.  iv.  13-17:  St.  Mark  i.    14,  1."):  St.  Luke  iv.  l.-)-;i2.] 

The  visit  to  Xazarotli  was  in  uiany  respects  decisive.     It  presented     chaI'. 
hy  anticipation  an  epitome  of  the  history  of  the  Christ.      He  came  to         XI 
His  own,  and  His  own  received  Him  not.     Tlie  tirst  time  He  taught  ^- — ~.— ^' 
in  the  Synagogue,  as  the  first  time  He  taught  in  the  Temple,  they  cast 
Him  out.     On  tlie  one  and  the  other  occasion,   they  questioned  His 
authority,  and  they  asked  for  a  ^sign.'     In  both  instances,  the  power 
which  they  challenged  was,  indeed,  claimed  by  Christ,  but  its  display, 
in  the  manner  which  they  expected,  refused.     The  analogy  seems  to 
extend  even  farther — and  if  a  misrepresentation  of  what  Jesus  had 
said  when  puritying  the  Temple  formed  the  ground  of  the  final  lalse 
charge  against  Him,'' the  taunt  of  the  Xazarenes:   'Physician,   heal  ^'St.  Matt, 
thyself! '  found  an  echo  in  the  mocking  cry,  as  He  hung  on  the  Cross  : 
'  He  saved  others.  Himself  He  cannot  save.""  "st.  Matt. 

It  is  difficult  to  understand  how,  either  on  historical  grounds,  oi- 
after  study  of  the  character  of  Christ,  the  idea  could  have  arisen  ' 
that  Jesus  had  offered,  or  that  He  had  claimed,  to  teach  on  that 
Sabbath  in  the  Synagogue  of  Nazareth.  Had  He  attempted  what, 
alike  in  spirit  and  form,  was  so  contrary  to  all  Jewish  notions,  the 
whole  character  of  the  act  would  have  been  changed.  As  it  was,  the 
contrast  with  those  ]iy  whom  He  was  surrounded  is  almost  as  striking, 
as  the  part  which  He  bore  in  the  scene.  We  take  it  for  granted, 
that  what  had  so  lately  taken  place  in  Cana,  at  only  foui-  miles' 
distance,  or.  to  speak  more  accurately,  in  Capernaum,  had  become 
known  in  Nazareth.  It  raised  to  tlie  highest  pitch  of  ex])ectancy  the 
interest  and  curiosity  previously  awakencMl  by  tlie  i-ejioils,  wiiich  the 
Galileans  had  brought  from  Jerusaleui,  and  by  the  general  i'ame  which 
had   spread    ab(Mit    Jesus.     The.v   were   now  to   test,  whether  their 

'  And  yet  most  coiniiieiitatort; — follow-      that  Christ  had  -.stood  np'iii  tlie  sense 
ing.  I  suppose,  the  lead  of  .l/r^/p/*— hold      of  otlerinir  or  claimiiiii'  to  read. 


452 


FROM    JORDAN    TO    THE    MOl'XT    OF   TRAXSFIGrRATIOX. 


BOOK 
TIT 


»>St.  Luke 
iv.  18,  19 

'  Baba  B. 
13?. 


eniiulryiiKiii  would  l)e  ('(jiuil  to  the  occasion,  and  do  in  His  own  city 
what  thcj  had  heard  had  l)eendoue  tor  Cai)ernanni.  To  any  ordinary 
man  the  return  to  Nazaretli  in  such  circumstances  must  have  been  an 
ordeal.  2s ot  so  to  the  Christ,  AYho,  in  utter  self-forgetlulness,  had  only 
this  one  aim  of  life — to  do  the  Will  of  ITim  that  sent  Him.  And  so 
His  bearing  that  day  in  the  Synagogue  is  itself  evidence,  that  while  //?, 
He  was  not  o/,  that  time. 

Realising  the  scene  on  such  occasions,  we  mark  the  contrast.  As 
there  could  be  no  un-Jewish  forwardness  on  the  part  of  Jesus,  so, 
assuredly,  would  there  be  none  of  that  mock-humility  of  reluctance 
to  officiate,  in  which  Rabbinism  delighted.  If,  as  in  the  circumstances 
seems  likely,  Jesus  commenced  the  first  part  of  the  service,  and  then 
pronounced  liefore  the  '■  Ark  '  those  I^ulogies  whieh  were  regarded  as, 
in  the  strictest  sense,  the  prayer  [TepldUali)^  we  can  imagine — though 
Ave  can  scarcely'  realise — the  reverent  solemnity,  which  would  seem  to 
give  a  new  meaning  to  each  well-remembered  sentence.  And  in  His 
mouth  it  all  liad  a  ne^^'  meaning.  We  cannot  know  what,  if  any, 
petitions  He  inserted,  though  we  can  imagine  wliat  their  spirit  would 
have  been.  And  now,  one  b}'  one.  Priest,  Levite,  and,  in  succession, 
five  Israelites,  had  read  from  the  Law.  There  is  no  reason  to  disturb 
the  almost  traditional  idea,  that  Jesus  Himself  read  the  concluding- 
portion  from  the  Prophets,  or  the  so-called  Hapldarah.  The  whole 
narrative  seems  to  imply  this.  Similarly,  it  is  most  likely  that  the 
Haphtarah  for  that  da}'  was  taken  from  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah,^  and 
that  it  included  the  passage  quoted  by  the  Evangelist  as  read  b}^  the 
Lord  Jesus."  We  know  that  the  '  rolls "  on  which  the  Law  was 
written  were  distinct  from  those  of  the  Prophets; "  and  every  proba- 
l)ility  points  to  it,  that  those  of  tlie  Prophets,  at  least  the  Greater, 
were  also  written  on  separate  scrolls.  In  this  instance  we  are 
expressly  told,  that  the  minister  '  delivered  unto  Him  the  book  of  the 
prophet  Esaias,'  we  doubt  not.  for  the  HaphfaraJi,-  and  that,  'when 
He  had  unrolled  the  book,'  He  'found'  the  place  from  which  the 
Evangelist  makes  quotation. 


'  Although  we  cannot  feel  quite  sure 
of  this. 

- 1  infer  this  from  tlie  fact,  that  the  Bool-c 
of  the  Prophet  Isaiah  was  r/iven  to  Him 
hy  the  Minister  of  the  Synagogue.  Since 
the  time  of  Bpur/el  it  has  been  a  kind  of 
trailitional  idea  tliat.  if  this  was  the 
JIiii>Jit(iriih  for  tlie  day,  tlie  sermon  of 
Clirist  in  Nazareth  must  have  taken  place 
on  the  Day  of  Atonement,  for  which  in 
the  modern  .J<'\vir<h  lectionarv  Ts.  Ivili.  c 


forms  part  of  the  Ildiiliturah.  There  are 
however,  two  objections  to  this  view:  1. 
Our  modern  lectiouary  of  Ilaphtarahft 
is  certainly  Jiot  the  same  as  that  in  the 
time  of  Christ.  2.  Even  in  our  modern 
lectionary.  Is.  Ixi.  1,  2  forms  no  part  of 
the  Udphtarah,  either  for  the  Day  of 
Atonement,  nor  for  any  other  Sabbath 
or  festive  day.  In  the  modern  lectionary 
Is.  Ivii.  1-t  to  Is.  Iviii.  14  is  the  Ilnpliffi- 
vdh  for  the  Dav  of  Atonement. 


Soph.  xii.  7 


TIIK    IIAIMITAIJAH    AND    TIIK    TKXT    (JF    Cin'JST\S    DISCOUUSK.  453 

When  iiiii-()l!iiii>.',  ;iml  lioldiug  tlic  scroll,  imicli  mure  than  the  sixty-     (miap 
first  chapter  of  Isaiali  iimst  have  been  within  range  ol"  His  eyes.     On         ix 

tlie  other  hand,  it   is  (piite  certain  that  the  verses  quoted  hy  the  ^- ,^^.^ 

Evangelist  could  not  have  ibrnied  the  whole  Hajihtarah.  According 
to  traditi(jnal  rule,"  the  Haphtarah  ordinarily  consisted  of  not  less  »Mas.soi;h. 
than  twenty-one  A'crses,' though,  if  the  passage  was  to  be  'targunied,' 
or  a  sermon  to  follow,  that  nund)er  might  be  shortened  to  seven,  five, 
or  even  three  verses.  Now  the  passage  quoted  by  St.  Luke  consists 
really  of  only  one  verse  (Is.  Ixi.  1 ),  together  with  a  clause  from  Is.  Iviii. 
6,-  and  the  first  clause  of  Is.  Ixi.  2.  This  could  scarcely  have  formed 
the  whole  Haplitaralt.  There  are  other  reasons  also  against  this 
supposition.  No  doubt  Jesus  read  alike  the  Haphtarah  and  the  text 
of  His  discourse  in  Hebrew,  and  then  '  targumed  '  or  translated  it; 
while  St.  Luke,  as  might  be  exijected,-  quotes  (with  but  two  trifling- 
alterations')  from  the  rendering  of  the  LXX.  But,  on  investigation, 
it  appears  that  one  clause  is  omitted  from  Is.  Ixi.  1,'and  that  between 
the  close  of  Is.  Ixi.  1  and  the  clause  of  verse  2,  which  is  added,  a 
clause  is  inserted  from  the  LXX.  of  Is.  Iviii.  6.^  This  could  scarcely 
have  l)een  done  in  reading  the  Haphtarah.  But  il',  as  we  suppose, 
the  passages  ipioted  formed  the  introductory  text  of  Christ's  dis- 
course, such  quotation  and  combination  were  not  only  in  accordance 
with  Jewish  custom,  but  formed  part  of  the  favourite  mode  of  teach- 
ing— the  Charaz — or  stringing,  like  pearls,  passage  to  passage,  illus- 
trative of  each  other.''  •  In  the  present  instance,  the  portion  of  the 
scroll  which  Jesus  unrolled  may  have  exhibited  in  close  proximit}^ 
the  two  i)assages  which  formed  the  introductory  text  (the  so-called 
Pethlchah).  But  this  is  of  comparatively  small  interest,  since  both 
the  omission  of  a  clause  from  Is.  Ixi.  1,  and  the  insertion  of  an- 
other adai)ted  from  Is.  Iviii.  G,  wei-e  evidently  intentional.  It  might 
be  presumptuous  to  attempt  stating  the  reasons  which  nmy  have 
influenced  the  Saviour  in  this,  and  yet  some  of  them  will  instinctively 
occui'  to  every  thoughtful  reader. 

'  This  sytnlKiliciilly :  7  x  :>,  since  (nicli  Itrokeu-hearti'd,' is  .spurious. 

of  the  seven  readei's  in  tiie  Law  had  to  *  All   the  liest  MSS.  oniil    the  words, 

read  at  least  tliree  verses.  '  To  heal  the  In'oken -hearted.' 

-  'To    set  at  liberty    those   that    are  ^  See  above.  Note  2. 

bruised.'     The  words  are  taken,  with  but  "^  See  the  remarks  on  (his  jKuiit  in  tLie 

a  slight  necessary  alteration  in  the  verb,  previous   chapter.     If    I   rightly   under- 

froni  the  LXX.  rendering  of  Is.  Iviii.  6.  stand   the   somewhat  obscure  language 

The  clause  from  Is.  l.\i.  2  is:  'To  preach  of  SHrenhnsius  (Biblos   Katallages,  pj). 

the  acceptable  year  of  the  Lord.'  33;)-.S'15).  such  is  also  the  view  of  that 

*  P)-eachuif/ \n!itQa(\  of  proclaim/'i/;/,  m  learned  writer.     This  jieculiarly  .Tewisli 

Is.  l.xi.  2,  and  in  tl)e  form  of  tlie  verb  in  method    of     Scriptural     (|Ui)tation     by 

the  clause  from  Is.  Iviii.  (1.     Besides,  the  -stringing  together"  is  employed  by  St. 

insertion    of    the   clause:    -to   heal   the  I'aul  in  IJoni.  iii.  10  is. 


ili.  50 


454  Fi;()M    JOK'DAX   TO   Tin-;    MorNT   OV   TRANSFIGURATION. 

i;()()K  it  was,  indeed,  Diviuc  'wisdom" — 'the  Spirit  of  the  Lord '  upon 

111         llini,  which  directed  Jesus  in  the  choice  of  such  a  text  for  His  first 

^— ^,^-^    Messianic    Sermon.       It  struck    the    key-note    to   the  whole   of  His 

(iaiilean  ministry.      The  ancient  Synaii'o<"'ue  re.uarded  Is.  Ixi.  1,  2,  as 

"The  ouier  ouc  of  the  three  ])assaii-es, '  in  which  mention  of  tlie  Holy  Ghost  was 

il.  xxxiL      ('(^nnected  with  the  i)romised  redemption.'      In  this  view,  the  ai)i)li- 

14,  15,  anil  ,.  1-1x1  •        1    •       ii  T  1-  T         1 

Lament.  cation  whicli  the  passage  receive<l  in  tlie  discourse  oi  our  Lord  was 
peculiarly  suitable.  For  the  words  in  which  St.  Luke  reports  what 
followed  the  /'ct/iic/KiIt,  or  introductory  text,  seem  rather  a  sum- 
mary, than  either  the  introduction  or  ])art  of  the  discourse  of 
Christ.  'This  day  is  this  Scripture  fullilled  in  your  ears.'  A  sum- 
mary this,  which  may  well  serve  to  guide  in  all  preaching.  As 
regards  its  form,  it  would  he:  so  to  present  the  teaching  of  Holy 
Scripture,  as  that  it  can  be  drawn  together  in  the  focus  of  one 
sentence;  as  regards  its  substance,  that  this  be  the  one  focus:  all  Scrij)- 
tiire  fullilled  l)y  a  present  Christ.  And  this — in  the  Gospel  which  He 
bears  to  the  jioor,  the  release  which  He  announces  to  the  captives, 
the  healing  which  He  offers  to  those  Miiom  sin  had  blinded,  and 
the  freedom  He  brings  to  them  who  Avere  bruised;  and  all  as  the 
trumpet-blast  of  God's  Jubilee  into  His  world  oi'  misery,  sin,  and 
want!  A  year  thus  begun  would  be  glorious  indeed  in  the  blessings 
it  gave. 

T'here  was  not  a  word  in  all  this  of  what  common  Jewish  expect- 
ancy would  have  connected  with,  nay,  chiefly  accentuated  in  an  an- 
nouncement of  the  Messianic  redemption;  not  a  word  to  raise  carnal 
hopes,  or  flatter  Jewish  pride.  Truly,  it  was  the  most  un-Jewish 
discourse  for  a  Jewish  Messiah  of  those  days,  Avith  which  to  open  His 
Ministry.  And  yet  such  was  the  power  of  these  'words  of  grace." 
that  the  hearers  hung  spell-bound  upon  them.  Every  eye  was  fastened 
on  Him  with  hungry  eagerness.  For  the  time  they  forgot  all  else — 
Who  it  was  that  addressed  them,  even  the  strangeness  of  the  message, 
so  unspeakably  in  contrast  to  any  preaching  of  Rabbi  or  Teacher  that 
iiad  l)een  heard  in  that  S.vnagogue.  Lideed,  one  can  scarcely  conceive 
the  imju'ession  which  the  Words  of  Christ  must  have  produced, 
when  promise  and  t"ulfilment.  hope  and  reality,  mingled,  and  wants 
of  the  heart,  hitherto  unrealised,  Avere  wakened,  only  to  be  moi-e 
than  satisfied.  It  was  another  sphere,  another  life.  'i'ruly,  the 
anointing  of  the  Holy  Ghost  was  on  the  Preachei-,  from  Whose  lips, 
dropped  these  -words  of  grace."  And  if  such  was  the  announcement 
of  the  Year  of  God's  Jubilee,  what  blessings  must  it  bear  in  its  bosom! 
'  See  the  Ai)i)eiiili.\  on  tln'  ^h'ssiaiiic  ))as.sages. 


THE  iii;ai;i-:i;s  in  the  SYNA(;()(;i'i-: 


455 


The  discourse  hnd  been  s])ok('ii,  and  tlie  breathless  .silence  with 
which,  even  according  to  Jewish  custoiu,  ithadl)ecn  listened  to,'  gave 
place  to  the  usual  aftcr-serinou  hnui  of  an  Kastei-n  Synagogue.  On 
one  point  all  were  agreed:  that  tlie\  were  niarvcUoiis  words  of  grace, 
which  had  proceeded  out  of  His  mouth.  And  still  the  ['readier 
wailed,  with  deep  longing  of  soul,  for  some  question,  wliidi  wonid  hav(; 
marked  the  spiritual  application  of  what  He  had  spoken.  Sim-Ii  i\i'r\) 
longing  of  soul  is  kindred  to,  and  passes  into  almost  slci-iiness,  just 
because  he  who  so  longs  is  so  intensely  in  earnest,  in  the  conviction 
of  the  reality  of  his  message.  It  was  so  with  Jesus  in  Nazareth. 
They  were  indeed  making  a})i)licatioii  of  the  Sermon  to  the  Picaclicr, 
but  in  quite  ditl'erent  manner  from  that  to  which  His  discourse  had 
l)ointed.  It  was  not  the  fultilment  of  the  8('rii)ture  in  Him,  but 
the  circumstance,  that  siu'h  an  one  as  the  Son  of  Joseph,  their  village 
carpenter,  should  have  spoken  such  words,  that  attracted  their  atten- 
tion. Not,  as  we  take  it,  in  a  malevolent  spirit,  but  altogether 
unspiritually,  as  regarded  the  ett'ect  of  Christ's  words,  did  one  and 
another,  here  and  there,  express  wonderment  to  his  neiglibour. 

They  had  Jieard,  and  now  they  woidd  fain  have  seen.  But  already 
the  holy  indignation  of  Him,  Whom  they  only  knew  as  Joseph's  son^ 
was  kindled.  The  turn  of  matters;  their  very  admiration  and  ex- 
pectation; their  vulgar,  unspiritual  comments:  if  was  all  so  entirely 
contrary  to  the  Character,  the  Mission,  and  the  Words  of  Jesus.  No 
doubt  they  would  next  expect,  that  here  in  His  own  city,  and  all  the 
more  because  it  was  such.  He  would  do  what  they  had  heard  had 
taken  place  in  Capernaum.  It  was  the  world-old  saying,  as  false, 
except  to  the  ear,  and  as  s])eciously  popular  as  most  such  sayings: 
'  Charity  begins  at  home' — or,  according  to  the  Jewish  proverb,  and 
in  application  to  the  special  circumstances:  '  Physician,  heal  thyself."  ^ 
Whereas,  if  there  is  any  meaning  in  truth  and  pi-incii)le;  if  there 
was  any  meaning  and  reality  in  Christ's  Mission,  and  in  the  discourse 
He  had  just  spoken,  Charity  does  7?of  begin  at  home:  and  '  Physician, 
heal  thyself  is  not  of  the  Gospel  for  the  pooi",  nor  yet  the  i)reaching 
of  God's  Jubilee,  Init  that  of  the  Devil,  whose  works  Jesus  had  come 
to  destroy.  How  could  He,  in  His  holy  abhorrence  an<l  indignation, 
say  this  better  than  by  again  repeating,  though  now  Avith  different 
application,  that  sad  experience,  'No  prophet  is  accepted  in  his  own 
country,'  which  He  could  have  li()pe(l  was  for  ever  behind  llim:  '  and 

'  See   the   previous  cluii)ter.     It    was  afterwards, 

the  universal  rule  to  listen  to  the  sermon  -'  Tiie  proverb    really   is:    ■  Pliysician, 

in  perfect  silence  (Pes.  1  tO  a ;  Moed  K.  n).  hf-ai  tliine  own  lameness  '  (I3er.  W.  2^^.  ed. 

The  questions  and  objections  conunenccil  Warsh.  p.  45  h). 


CHAP 
XI 


'  St.  John 
iv.  u 


4:,(;  I'liOM    .lOliDAX    TO    TlIK    Mol'NT    OF  THANSFIGURATION. 

i;ooK      !>y  i»()iiiliiiii-  lo  those  two  Old  Tesiaiiiciit  iiKstanccs  of  it,  whose  names 

111         and  authority  were  most  Ireciuently  on  Jewish  lipsy     Xot  they  Avho 

^— ^^-^    were  '  their  own, '  but  tliey  who  were  most  receptive  in  faith — not  Israel, 

but  Gentiles,  were  those  most  nuirkedly  lavoureil  in  the  ministry  of 

Elijah  and  of  Elisha/ 

As  Ave  read  the  report  of  Jesus"  Avords,  we  perceive  only  dindy 
that  aspect  of  them  which  stirred  the  wrath  of  His  hearers  to  the 
utmost,  and  yet  we  do  undei'stand  it.  That  He  should  have  turned 
so  fully  the  li<>-lit  upon  the  Gentiles,  and  flung  its  large  shadows 
uixni  them;  that  'Joseph's  Son'  should  have  taken  up  this  position 
towards  them;  that  He  would  make  to  tlieni  spiritual  application 
unto  death  of  His  sermon,  since  they  Avould  not  make  it  unto  life: 
it  stung  them  to  the  quick.  Away  He  must  out  of  His  city;  it  coidd 
not  bear  His  Presence  any  longer,  not  even  on  that  holy  Sabbath. 
Out  they  thrust  Him  from  the  Synagogue;  forth  they  pressed  Him 
out  of  the  city;  on  they  followed,  and  around  they  beset  Him  along 
the  road  by  thebroAv  of  the  hill  on  which  the  city  is  built — perhaps 
to  that  western  angle,  at  present  pointed  out  as  the  site.*  This,  with 
the  unsixjken  intention  of  crowding  Him  over  the  cliff, ^  Avliich  there 
rises  abruptly  about  forty  feet  out  of  the  valley  beneath.*  If  we 
are  correct  in  indicating  the  locality,  the  road  here  l)ifurcates,^  and 
^VQ  can  conceive  how  Jesus,  Who  had  hitherto,  in  the  silence  of  sad- 
ness, allowed  Himself  almost  mechanically  to  be  pressed  onwards  by 
the  surrounding  crowd,  now  turned,  and  by  that  look  of  connnanding 
majesty,  the  forthbreaking  of  His  Divine  Being,  Avhich  ever  and 
again  Avrought  on  those  around  miracles  of  subjection,  constrained 
them  to  halt  and  give  Avay  before  Him,  while  unharmed  He  passed 
through  their  midst.'''  So  did  Israel  of  old  jmss  through  the  cleft  waves 
of  the  sea,  which  the  wonder-working  rod  of  Moses  had  converted  into 

1  The  stateiiiciit  that  tlie  famine  ui  the  Cliurch. 

time  of  Elijah  lasted   three   and  a  half  ■''  See  the  plau  of  Nazareth  in  SocZe^rr'.'? 

years   is   in   accordance   witli    universal  (Socin's)  Pahestina,  p.  255.     Tlie  road  to 

Jewish   tradition.     Coni|).   Yalkut   on    1  the  left  aoes  westward,  that  tliroiiiili  tlie 

Kiii^s  xvi.,  vol.  ii.  p.  y>2  />.  northern  ])art  of  the  town,  towards  Ca- 

■■'  See  Stanley,  Sinai  and  Palestine,  p.  pernaum.  Our  localisation  ^ains  in  i)i-ob- 

:^(>3.     But  surely  it  could  not  have  been  alnlity.  if  the  ancient  .Syna^o,t;-ue  stood 

the  .sr>?^^//-western  corner  {Conder.  Tent-  wiiere  tradition  places  it.     At  i)resent  it 

Work,  i.  p.  UO,  and  all  later  writers).  is  in  the  hands  of  the  Maronites. 

■*  The  i)rovision.  which  awarded  in-  "  Tlie  circumstance  that  the  Xazarenes 
fitant  death  without  formal  trial  in  case  did  not  avow  the  jmrpose  of  castiuir 
of  oix'u  l)lasph('my  or  profanation  iSanii.  Him  over  theclift'.  but  intended  accident- 
Si  I,),  would  not  apply  in  this  instance.  ally  to  crowd  Ilim  over,  explains  how, 
Probal)ly  the  i)urpose  was,  that  the  crowd  when  He  turned  sharply  round  to  the 
around  should,  as  it  were  accidentally.  risht,  and  |)assed  throuuh  Ilie  crowd, 
push  Him  over  the  clifT.  they  did  not  follow  Him. 

*  The  sjiot   is  just  al)ove  the  Maronite 


TUK    liKTlKX    TO    CAI'KIfXAl  M. 


4r>7 


»st. 
ix. : 

Matt. 

I 

'•  St. 
vii. 

Luk.' 
5 

V.  2; 

Mark 

2 

lels 


a  wall  of  safet}^     Yet,   although  He  paitfd  lioiii  it  in  jiid.iiiucnt,      ciiai'. 
not  thus    could    the  Christ  have  tinally  and   I'oi-  ever  lelt    His  own         XI 
Nazareth."  ^—^  re- 

cast out  of  His  own  city,  Jesus  pursued  His  solitary  way  towards 
Ca])ei'nauui.'-  There,  at  least,  devoted  friends  and  believing  disciples 
would  welcome  Him.  There,  also,  a  large  draught  of  souls  would  till 
the  Gospel-net.  Capernaum  would  be  His  Galilean  home.^'  Here  He 
would,  on  the  Sabbath-days,  preach  in  that  Synagogue,  of  which  the 
good  centurion  was  the  builder,''  and  Jairus  the  chief  I'uler.'  These 
names,  and  the  memories  connected  with  them,  are  a  sufficient  com- 
ment on  the  etfect  of  His  preaching:  that '  His  word  was  with  power." 
In  Capernaum,  also,  was  the  now  believing  and  devoted  household 
of  the  court-officer,  whose  only  son  the  Word  of  Christ,  spoken  at  a 
distance,  had  restored  to  life.  Here  also,  or  in  the  immediate  neigh- 
bourhood, was  the  home  of  His  earliest  and  closest  disciples,  the 
brothers  Simon  and  Andrew,  and  of  James  and  John,  the  sons  of 
Zebedee. 

From  the  character  of  the  narrative,  and  still  more  from  the  later 
call  of  these  four,'*  it  would  seem  that,  after  the  return  of  Jesus  from  ist.  Matt. 
Judseainto  Galilee,  His  disciples  had  left  Him,  probably  in  Cana,  and  aufiparai- 
returned  to  their  homes  and  ordinary  avocations.  They  were  not  yet 
called  to  forsake  all  and  follow  Him— not  merely  to  discipleship,  but 
to  fellowship  and  Apostolate.  AVhen  He  went  from  Cana  to  Nazareth, 
they  returned  to  Capernaum.  They  knew  He  was  near  them. 
Presently  He  came;  and  now  His  Ministry  was  in  their  own  Caper- 
naum, or  in  its  immediate  neighbourhood. 

'  Many,  even  orthodox  commentators,  not  many.  4.  In  narrative  A  lie  is  thrust 

hold  that  this  history  is  the  same  as  that  out  of  the  city  immediately  after  His  ser- 

related  in  St.  Matt.  .xiii.  54-58,  and  St.  mon,  while  narrative  B  implies,  that  He 

Mark  vi.  1-G.  But.  for  the  reasons  about  continued  for  some   time   in   Nazareth, 

to  be  stated,  I  have  come,  although  some-  only  wondering  at  their  unbelief, 

what    hesitatingly,    to    the    conclusion,  If  it  be   objected,    that  Jesus  could 

that  the  narrative  of  St.  Luke  and  those  scarcely  have  returned  to  Nazareth  after 

of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  refer  to  dif-  the  attempt  on  His  life,  we  must  bear  in 

ferent  events.    1.  The  narrative  in  St.  mind  that  this  purpose   had   not   l)eeu 

Luke  (which  we  shall  call  A)  refers  to  the  avowed,  and  that  His  growing  fame  dur- 

commencement  of  Christ's  Ministry,  wiiile  ing   the   intervening    period    may    have 

those  of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  (which  rendered  such  a  return  not  only  possible, 

we  shall  call  B^  are   placed   at  a  later  but  even  advisable, 

period.    Nor  does  it  seem  likely,  that  our  The  coincidences  as  regards  oui- Lord's 

Lord   would  have    entirely    abandoned  statement  about  the  I'roi)het,  and  their 

Nazareth  after  one  rejection.    2.  In  nar-  objection  as  to  His  being  tlie  carpenter's 

rative  A,  Christ  is  without  disciples;  in  son,  are    only   natural    in    the    circum- 

narrative  B  He  is  accompanied  by  them,  stances. 

8.   In  narrative  A  no  miracles  are  record-  -'  I'robably  resting  in    the    immediate 

ed — in  fact,  His  words  about   Kiijah  and  neiglibomhood  of  Nazareth,  and  pursuing 

Elisha  preclude  any  idea  of  them;  while  His  joiu'ney  next  day,  when  the  Sabbatli 

in  narrative  B  there   are  a  few,  liiongh  was  past. 


458  FROM    .l<)i;i)AX    T(.)    TllH    MOINT    OF   TRANSFHUliATlON. 

HOOK  ForCapcniauiii  was  not  the  only  place  where  He  taught.    Katlier 

III         was  it  the  centre  for  itinerancy  throu<ih  all  that  district,  to  preach  in 

^— ^" —     its  Syna<i'o<rues."     Amidst  such    ministry    of  (piiet   'power,'  chietly 

»st.  Matt.      ;ii,,u(.  and   unattended  hv  His  disciples,  the  summer  passed.     Tnd^ . 
IV.  ia-i(  •  '        '  ^ 

it  was  summer  in  tiie  ancient  land  of  Zehulun  and  Xaplitali,  in  the 
({alilec  of  the  (Jentiles,  when  the  iiloi-ious  Light  that  had  risen  chased 
away  the  long  wiiitei-"s  (hirkness,  and  those  wlio  had  ])ecn  the  first 
exiles  in  Assyrian  bondage  were  the  tirst  brought  1)ack  to  Israel's  true 
lil)erty,  and  l)y  Israel's  Messiah-King.  To  the  writer  of  the -first 
Gospel,  as,  long  years  afterwards,  he  looked  back  on  this,  the  happy 
time  when  he  had  first  seen  the  Light,  till  it  had  sprung  up  even  to 
him  'in  the  region  and  shadow  of  death,'  it  must  have  been  a  time  ol' 
ju'culiarly  bright  memories.  How  often,  as  he  sat  at  the  receipt  of 
custom,  must  he  have  seen  Jesus  passing  by:  how  often  must  he 
have  heard  His  AVords,  some,  perhai)s,  spoken  to  himself,  but  all 
falling  like  good  seed  into  the  field  of  his  heart,  and  jireparing  him 
at  once  and  Joyously  to  obey  the  summons  when  it  came:  Follow  Me! 
And  not  to  him  only,  but  to  many  more,  would  it  be  a  glowing,  grow- 
ing time  of  heaven's  own  summer. 

^u.  ix.  '2  There  was  a  dim  tradition  in  tlie  Synagogue,  that  this  prediction,'' 

'  The  i)eople  that  walk  in  the  darkness  see  a  great  light,'  referred  to  the 
new  light,  with  which  God  would  enlighten  the  eyes  of  those  who  had 
l)enetrated  into  the  mysteries  of  Kal)binic  lore,  enabling  them  to 
])erceive  concerning  -loosing  and  binding,  concerning  what  was  clean 

-Tanth. on  and  wliat  was  unclean.''     Others'  regarded  it  as  a  promise  to  the 

Gen.  vi.  '.>: 

ert.warsh.    cai-jy  cxilcs,  fulfilled  whcn  the  u'reat  libertv  came  to  them.     To  Levi- 

1>.  11  ;;  • 

Matthew  it  seemed  as  if  both  inter] )retations  had  come  true  in  those 
days  of  Christ's  first  Galilean  ministry.  Nay.  he  saw  them  com])incd 
in  a  higher  unity  when  to  their  o\G:i,  enlightened  by  the  great  Light, 
canu'  the  new  knowledge  of  what  was  ])ound  and  what  loosed,  what 
unclean  and  clean,  though  quite  differently  from  what  Judaism  had 
declared  it  to  them;  and  Avlien,  in  that  orient  Sun.  the  promise  oi' 
liberty  to  hmg-banished  Israel  was  at  last  seen  fulfilled.  It  was. 
imleed.  the  highest  and  only  true  fulfilment  of  that  prediction  of 
Isaiah."  in  a  history  where  all  was  prophetic,  every  partial  fulfilment 
only  an  unfolding  and  opening  of  the  bud,  and  each  symbolic  of 
fuither  unfolding  till,  in  the  fulness  of  time,  the  great  Reality  came. 

'  See   MihrnotJi   ilp'loJotli  on  tlie  pa.-;-  primary  and   literal   puri)ose.     Tliey  ro- 

saj.;;*'-  pre.sent    a    frefpieDt    mode    of    citation 

-  Tlie  words.  •  That    it   miglit  be   fnl-  amonii  .Jewish  writers,  indicatiiif;;  a  rpiil 

tilled  which  was  si)okeii  by  Esaias.'  do  fiiililmeiit  of  the  spirit.  tiiou<i;h  not  tdways 

nut  bear  tiie  mcaiiinu;,  tliat  this  was  their  of  tli<'  letter,  of  a  i)roi)liecy.   On  this  sid)- 


•THE    PEOPLE   THAT    WALK    L\    DAIiKNESS   .SEE    A   GREAT    LIGHT.'  459 

U)  wliifh  all  that  was  prophetic  in  Icsraers  history    and  picdietions      cjiaI'. 

pointed.     And  so  as,  in  the  evening  of  his  da}  s,  Lcvi-Matthew  looked         XI 

back  to  distant  Galilee,  the  glow  of  the  setting  sun  seemed  once  more  ^— ^r"— ' 

to  rest  on  that  lake,  as  it  lay  Ijallicd   in   its  sheen  of  gold.      It  lit  up 

that  city,   those  shores,   that   custoiii-liousc:    it   spread    far  off',   over 

tlK^sc  hills,  and  across  the  Jordan.     Truly,  and  in  the  only  true  sense, 

ha<l  then  the  promise  been  fulfilled:  '   "To  them  which  sat  in  the  re-  »st. Matt. 

.  .  'X.  16 

gion  and  shadow  of  death,  light  is  s])rung  up." 

ject  see  alsn  SiinuiJuisliis.   11.  .s..  j).  21s.      miiclit  he  fallill('(l  wiiicli  \va.S8poken  '),  u. 
and  his  a(lminil)l('  exi)o.sitioii  of  tlie  .lew-     s..  itp.  2-4. 
ish   formula   -':N:*i' H*^  Q^-pb   (_-that   it 


460  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

AT  THE  '  UNKNOWN  "  FEAST  IN  JERUSALEM,  AND  BY  THE  POOL  OF  BETHESDA. 

(St.  Jolm  V. ) 

BOOK      The  sliorter  (Uuvs  of  early  autiiinn  liad  eoiiie,"  and  the  eountry  stood 
III        in  all  its  luxurious  wealth  of  beauty  and  fruitfulness,  as  Jesus  passed 

-^r^-~^  from  (Jalileo  to  what,  in  the  absence  of  any  certain  evidence,  we  must 
still  be  content  to  call  '  the  Unknown  Feast '  in  Jerusalem.  Thus  much, 
however,  seems  clear  that  it  was  either  the  '  Feast  of  Wood-offering ' 
on  the  15th  of  Abh  (in  August),  when,  amidst  demonstrations  of  joy. 
willing  givers  brought  from  all  parts  of  the  country  the  Avood  required 
for  the  service  of  the  Altar;  or  else  the  'Feast  of  Trumpets'  on  the 
1st  of  Tishri  (about  the  middle  of  September),  which  marked  the  be- 
ginning of  the  New  (civil)  Year.''  The  journey  of  Christ  to  that  Feast 
and  its  results  are  not  mentioned  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels,  because  that 
Judaean  ministr.y  which,  if  the  illustration  be  lawful,  was  the  histor- 
ical thread  on  which  St.  John  strung  his  record  of  what  the  Word 
spake,  lay,  in  great  measure,  beyond  their  historical  standpoint. 
Besides,  this  and  similar  events  belonged,  indeed,  to  that  grand  Self- 
Manifestation  of  Christ,  with  the  corresponding  growth  of  opposition 
consequent  upon  it,  which  it  was  the  object  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  to 
set  forth;  but  it  led  to  no  permanent  results,  and  so  was  outside  the 
scope  of  the  more  i)opular,  pragmatic  record,  which  the  other  Gospels 
had  in  view. 

There  nmy  in  this  instance,  however,  have  been  other  reasons 
also  for  their  silence.  It  has  already  been  indicated  that,  during  the 
summer  of  (Mu'isfs  first  Galilean  ministry,  when  Capernaum  was  His 
centre  of  action,  the  disciples  had  i-etui-ned  to  their  homes  and  usual 
avocations,  while  Jesus  moved  about  chiefly  alone  and  unatfemled. 
This  explains  the  circumstance  of  a  second  call,  even  to  His  most 
intimate  and  closest  followei-s.    It  also  accords  best  with  that  gradual 

'  Botli  Godcf  and  Prof.  Wpsfcoff  ftlie  indicate   immediate  succession  of  time, 

latter  moi-e  fully)   have  pointed  out  tiie  -  For  a  full  di-scussion  of  the  question 

distinction  between /icrd  rn-ura  (literal-  see  vol.  ii.  App.  XV.  ])]>.  765,  766:  for 

ly:  •  after  tho.se  thin.ij;s — as  in  St.  John  v.  the    -Feast    of    Wood-offering.'      'The 

r).and  i/erd  tovto.  The  former  dues  not  Temple  and  its  Services.  Ac' pp.29.5.  296. 


CHRIST   AT      THE    UNKNOWN    FEAST.'  4fjl 

(Icvelopiiiout  in  Clirisfrs  activity,  wliidi   (;oiiiin('iiciii<i-  with   the  inoro     CHAP, 
private  teacliing  of  tiic  new  Preacher  of  Righteousness  in  the  villages        XII 

by  the  lake,  or  in  the  Synagogues,  expanded  into  that  publicity  in   ^— "^v ' 

which  He  at  last  appears,  surrounded  by  His  Apostles,  attended  by 
the  loving  ministry  of  those  to  whom  He  had  brought  healing  of  body 
or  soul,  and  followed  by  a  multitude  which  everywhere  pressed  around 
Him  for  teaching  and  helj). 

This  more  public  activity  commenced  with  the  return  of  Jesus 
from  '  the  Unknown  Feast '  in  Jerusalem.  There  He  had,  in  answer 
to  the  challenge  of  the  Jewish  authorities,  for  the  first  time  set  forth 
His  Messianic  claims  in  all  their  fulness.  And  there,  also,  He  had  for 
the  first  time  encountered  that  active  persecution  unto  death,  of  which 
Golgotha  was  the  logical  outcome.  This  Feast,  then,  was  the  time  of 
critical  decision.  Accordingly,  as  involving  the  separation  from  the 
old  state  and  the  commencement  of  a  new  condition  of  things,  it 
was  immediately  followed  by  the  call  of  His  disciples  to  a  new  Apostle- 
ship.  In  this  view,  we  can  also  better  understand  the  briefness  of  the 
notices  of  His  first  Galilean  ministry,  and  how,  after  Christ's  return, 
from  that  Feast,  His  teaching  became  more  full,  and  the  display  of  His 
miraculous  power  more  constant  and  public. 

It  seems  only  congruous,  accordant  Avith  all  the  great  decisive  steps 
of  Him  in  Whose  footprints  the  disciples  trod,  only  after  He  had 
marked  them,  as  it  were,  with  His  Blood — that  He  should  have  gone 
up  to  that  Feast  alone  and  unattended.  That  such  had  been  the  case, 
has  been  inferred  by  some  from  this,  that  the  narrative  of  the  healing 
of  the  impotent  man  reads  so  Jewish,  that  the  account  of  it  appears 
to  have  been  derived  by  St.  John  from  a  Jew  at  Jerusalem." '  Others^  r^wetstdn 
have  come  to  the  same  conclusion  from  the  meagreness  of  details 
about  the  event.  But  it  seems  implied  in  the  narrative  itself,  and 
the  marked  and  exceptional  absence  of  any  reference  to  disciples  leads 
to  the  obvious  conclusion,  that  they  had  not  been  with  their  Master. 

But,  if  Jesus  was  alone  and  unattended  at  the  Feast,  the  (iuestion 
arises,  whence  the  report  was  derived  of  what  He  said  in  reply  to  the 
challenge  of  the  Jews?  Here  the  answer  naturally  suggests  itself,  that 
the  Master  Himself  may,  at  some  later  period  of  His  life — perhaps 
during  His  last  stay  in  Jerusalem — have  communicated  to  His  disciples, 
or  else    to   him   who    stood    nearest  to  Him,  the   details   of  what 

'  Tlie  reader  will  have  no  difficulty  in  would  take  too  niiicli  space  to  particu- 

linding  not  a  few  i)oiuts  in  St.  .John   v.  larise  them, 

utterly  irreconcilable  with  the  theory  of  -  So  Gess,  Godet,  and  others, 
a  second  century  Ephesiaii  Gospel.     It 


32;  xii.  39 


462  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      had  passed  on  the  tirst  occasion  when  the   Jewish  authorities  had 
in        sought  to  extinguish  His  Messianic  claims  in  His  blood.      If  that 

^ r^"^   communication  was  made  when  Jesus  was  about  to  be  offered  up,  it 

would  also  account  for  what  otherwise  might  seem  a  difficulty:  the 
very  developed  form  of  expression  in  which  His  relation  to  the  Father, 
and  His  own  Office  and  Power,  are  presented.  We  can  understand 
how,  from  the  very  first,  all  this  should  have  been  laid  before  the 
teachers  of  Israel.  But  in  view  of  the  organic  development  of  Christ's 
teaching,  w^e  could  scarcely  expect  it  to  have  been  expressed  in  such 
very  full  terms,  till  near  the  close  of  His  Ministry.' 

But  we  are  anticipating.  The  narrative  transports  us  at  once  to 
what,  at  the  time,  seems  to  have  been  a  well-known  locality  in  Jeru- 
salem, though  all  attempts  to  identify  it,  or  even  to  explain  the 
name  Bethesda,  have  hitherto  failed.  All  we  know  is,  that  it  was  a 
pool  enclosed  within  five  porches,  by  the  sheep-market,  presumably 

"Neh.m.  1,  close  to  the  'Sheep-Gate.'''  This,  as  seems  most  likely,  opened  from 
the  busy  northern  sul)urb  of  markets,  bazaars,  and  workshops,  east- 
wards upon  the  road  which  led  over  the  Mount  of  Olives  and  Bethany 
to  Jericho.^  In  that  case,  most  probability  would  attach  to  the 
identification  of  the  Pool  Bethesda  with  a  pool  somewhat  north  of 
the  so-called  Birket  IsraU.  At  present  it  is  wholly  filled  with  rubbish, 
but  in  the  time  of  the  Crusaders  it  seems  to  have  borne  the  name  of 
the  Sheep-pond,  and,  it  was  thought,  traces  of  the  five  porches  could 
still  be  detected.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  certainly  bore  in  the  '  Hebrew " 
— or  rather  Aramaean — 'tongue,'  the  name  Bethesda.  No  doubt  this 
name  was  designative,  though  the  common  explanations — Beth  C'hisrla 
(so  most  modern  writers,  and  Watkins)  'House  of  Mercy' (?),  Beth 
Istebha  (Nr^yN,  Delitzsch),  '  House  of  Porches,'  and  Beth  Zeytha  (  West- 
cott)  '  House  of  the  Olive  ' — seem  all  unsatisfactory.  More  pro])ability 
attaches  to^the  rendering  Beth  Asutha  (Wiuische),  or  Beth  Asyatha, 
'  House  of  Healing. '  But  as  this  derivation  offers  linguistic  difficulties, 
we  would  suggest  that  the  second  part  of  the  name  (Beth-Esda)  Avas 
really  a  Greek  word  Aramaiscd.  Here  two  different  derivations  sug- 
gest themselves.  The  root-word  of  Esda  might  either  exj^ress  to 
^become  ivclV — Beth  idcrOai — or  something  akin  to  the  Rabbinic  .i^'ff " 
( *c^i^^^r/di).     In  that  case,  the  designation  would  agree  with    an 

'  Even  Sfra?tss  admit?,  tliat  tlie  dis-  St.  John,  is  a  curious  instance  of  critical 

course  contains  nothing  which  niiglU  not  arirumentation  (Leben  Jesu,  i.  p.  64G). 

have  been  sjjoken  by  Christ.     His  objec-  -  Comp.  specially  liiehm's  Handvvor- 

tion  to  its  autlieuticity,  on  the  <i;round  of  terb.  ad  voc. 

the  analogies  to  it  in  certain  portions  of  -^  Said    when     people     sneezed.    Hive 

the  Fourth  Gospel  and  of  the  Epistles  of  '  Prositl ' 


THE    TROUBLIN(;    OF   THE    WATER.' 


463 


uiicieiit  reading  of  the  name,  Bethzatha.     Or  else,  the  name  Bethesda     CHAP. 
might  eombine,  aeeording  to  a  not  uneonnnon  l{al)])iiii('  practice,  tlie        XH 
Hebrew  Beth  with  some  Aramaised  form  derived  Irom  tlie  (ireek  word   '— '^^     ^ 
8,t(iO^  'to  boil' or  '  V)ubble  up'  (sul)st.  Sttcru:)]  in  whidi  case  it  would 
mean   'the  House  of  Bubbling-up, "  viz.    water.      Any  of    the    three 
derivations  just  suggested  would  not  only  give  an  apt  designation  for 
the  pool,   but  explain  why  St,  John,  contrary  to  his  usual  practice, 
does  not  give  a  Greek  equivalent  for  a  Hebrew  term. 

All  this  is,  however,  of  very  subordinate  importance,  compared  with 
the  marvellous  facts  of  the  narrative  itself.  In  the  tive  porches  sur- 
rounding this  pool  lay  '  a  great  multitude  of  the  impotent,'  in  anxious 
hope  of  a  miraculous  cure.  We  can  picture  to  ourselves  the  scene. 
The  popular  superstitions,'  which  gave  rise  to  what  we  would  regard  as 
a  peculiarly  painful  exhibition  of  human  misery  of  body  and  soul,  is 
strictly  true  to  the  times  and  the  people.  Even  now  travellers  de- 
scribe a  similar  concourse  of  poor  crippled  sufferers,  on  their  miserable 
pallets  or  on  rugs,  around  the  mineral  springs  near  Tiberias,  filling,  in 
true  Oriental  fashion,  the  air  with  their  lamentations.  In  the  present 
instance  there  would  be  even  more  occasion  for  this  than  around  any 
ordinary  thermal  spring.  For  the  po]:>ular  idea  was,  that  an  Angel 
descended  into  the  water,  causing  it  to  l)ubble  up,  and  that  only  he 
\w\\o  first  stepped  into  the  pool  would  be  cured.  As  thus  onl}'  one 
person  could  obtain  l)cnefit,  we  may  imagine  the  lamentations  of  the 
'  many '  who  would,  perhaps,  day  by  day,  be  disappointed  in  their 
hopes.  This  bubbling  up  of  the  water  was,  of  course,  due  not  to 
supernatural  but  to  physical  causes.  Such  intermittent  springs  are 
not  uncommon,  and  to  this  day  the  so-called  '  Fountain  of  the  Virgin  ' 
in  Jerusalem  exhibits  the  phenomenon.  It  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  say,  that  the  Gospel-narrative  does  not  ascribe  this  '  troubling  of 
the  waters  '  to  Angelic  agency,  nor  endorses  the  belief,  that  only  the 
first  who  afterwards  entered  them,  could  be  healed.  This  was  evidently 
the  belief  of  the  impotent  man,  as  of  all  the  waiting  multitjLule.''  But  »st.  johnv. 
the  words  in  verse  4  of  our  Authorised  Version,  and  perhaps,  also, 
the  last  clause  of  verse  3,  are  admittedly  an  interpolation,* 

In  another  part  of  this  book  it  is  explained  at  length,^  how  Jewish 
belief  at  the  time  attached  such  agency  to  Angels,  and  how  it  localised 


'  Indeed,  belief  in  '  holy  wells '  seems 
to  have  been  very  common  in  ancient 
times.  From  the  cuneiform  inscriptions 
it  appears  to  have  been  even  entertained 
by  the  ancient  Babylonians. 

'^  I  must  here  refer  to  the  critical  dis- 


cussion in  Canon  Wrsfcoff's  Commentary 
on  8t.  John.  I  only  wish  I  could  without 
unfairness  transport  to  these  pages  the 
results  of  his  masterly  criticism  of  this 
chapter. 

•'  See  the  Appendix  on  •  Angels.' 


464  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  (SO  to  speak)  special  Angels  in  si)i-ings  and  rivers;  and  vvc  shall  have 
III  presently  to  siiow,  what  were  the  i)opnhir  notions  about  miraculous  cures. 
"- — -r — '  If,  however,  the  belief  about  I>ethesda  arose  merely  from  the  mistaken 
ideas  about  the  cause  of  this  bubbling  of  the  water,  the  question  would 
naturally  suggest  itself,  whether  any  such  cases  as  those  descrilxid  had 
ever  really  occurred,  and,  if  not,  how  such  a  superstition  could  have 
continued.  But  that  such  healing  might  actually  occur  in  the  circum- 
stances, no  one  would  be  prepared  to  deny,  who  has  read  the  accounts 
of  pilgrimages  to  places  of  miraculous  cure,  or  who  considers 
the  influence  of  a  firm  expectancy  on  the  imagination,  especially  in 
diseases  which  have  their  origin  in  the  nervous  system.  This  view 
of  the  matter  is  confirmed,  and  Scripture  still  further  vindicated 
from  even  the  faintest  appearance  ofendorsing  the  popular  superstition, 
by  the  use  of  the  article  in  the  expression  '  a  multitude  of  the  impo- 
tent '  (TrXyOog  rc^v  aaSEvovvrcov),  which  marks  this  impotence 
as  used  in  the  generic  sense,  while  the  special  diseases,  afterwards 
enumerated  without  the  article,  are  ranged  under  it  as  instances  of 
those  who  were  thus  impotent.  Such  use  of  the  Greek  term,  as  not 
applying  to  any  one  specific  malady,  is  vindicated  by  a  reference  to 
St.  Matt.  viii.  17  and  St.  Mark  vi.  .56,  and  by  its  employment  by  the 
physician  Luke.  It  is,  of  course,  not  intended  to  imply,  that  the 
distempers  to  which  this  designation  is  given  had  all  their  origin  in  the 
nervous  system;  but  we  argue  that,  if  the  term  '  impotent '  was  the 
general,  of  which  the  diseases  mentioned  in  verse  3  were  the  specific 
— in  other  words,  that,  if  it  was  an  '■  impotence,'  of  which  these  were 
the  various  manifestations — it  may  indicate,  that  they  all,  so  far  as 
relieved,  had  one  common  source,  and  this,  as  we  would  suggest,  in 
.  the  nervous  system.' 

With  all  reverence,  we  can  in  some  measure  understand,  what 
feelings  must  have  stirred  the  heart  of  Jesus,  in  view  of  this  suffering,- 
waiting  'great  multitude.'  Why,  indeed,  did  He  go  into  those  five 
porches,  since  He  had  neither  disease  to  cure,  nor  cry  for  help  had 
come  to  Him  from  those  who  looked  for  relief  to  far  other  means? 
Not,  surely,  from  curiosity.  But  as  one  longs  to  escape  from  the 
stifling  atmosphere  of  a  scene  of  worldly  pomp,  with  its  glitter  and 
unreality,  into  the  clearness  of  the  evening-air,  so  our  Lord  may  have 
longed  to  pass  from  the  glitter  and  unreality  of  those  who  held  rule 

'  Another  term  for  'sick'  in  the  N.  T.  is  Mai.    i.   8.     In    1    Cor.    xi.  .30   tlie  two 

a  ppoo(Tro<=^  (St.  Matt.  xiv.  14;  St.  Mar]<  words   are    used  together,    appooaroi 

vi.  5,  1.3;  xvi.  18;  (comp.  Ecclus.  vii.  35).  and  ocadEvrii. 
This  corresponds    to  the   Hebrew   "?". 


'YE   WILL   NOT   COME   TO   ME."  465 

ill  the  Temple,  or  who  occuipied  the  scat  of  Moses  in  their  Academies,  CHAP, 

to  what  was  the  atmosphere  oi"  His  Life  on  earth,  His  real  Work,  Xli 

anioni^  that  sutferinii-^  ig-norant  multitude,  which,  in  its  sorrow,  raised  ^-— ^r^^ — ■ 
a  piteous,  longing  cry  for  hel})  where  it  liad  been  misdirected  to  seek  it. 
And  thus  we  can  here  also  })erceive  the  deep  internal  coniicctioii 
between  Christ's  miracle  of  healing    '  the   impotent  man '    and  the 

address  of  mingled  sadness  and  severity,''  in  which  He  afterwards  set  -st.  John 

V.  17-47 

before  the  Masters  m  Israel  the;  one  truth  fundamental  in  all  things. 
We  have  only,  so  to  speak,  to  reverse  the  formal  order  jind  succession 
of  that  discourse,  to  gain  an  insight  into  what  prompted  Jesus  to  go 
to  Bethesda,  and  l\v  His  power  to  perform  tliis  healing.'  He  had 
been  in  the  Temple  at  the  Feast;  He  had  necessarily  been  in  contact 
— it  could  not  be  otherwise,  when  in  the  Temple — with  the  great  ones 
of  Israel.  What  a  stifling  atmosphere  there  of  glitter  and  unreality! 
What  had  He  in  common  with  those  who  '  received  glory  one  of 
another,  and  the  glory  which  cometh  from  the  One  only  God '  they 
sought  not?"  How  could  such  men  believe?  The  first  meaning,  and  wer. i4 
the  object  of  His  Life  and  Work,  Avas  as  entirely  diflerent  from  their 
aims  and  })erceptions,  as  were  the  respective  springs  of  their  inner 
being.  They  clung  and  appealed  to  Moses;  to  Moses,  whose  successors 
they  claimed  to  be,  let  them  go!"  Their  elaborate  searching  and  ^w.  45-47 
sifting  of  the  Law  in  hope  that,  by  a  subtle  analysis  of  its  every 
))article  and  letter,  by  inferences  from,  and  a  careful  drawing  of  a  pro- 
hibitive hedge  around,  its  letter,  they  would  possess  themselves  of 
eternal  life,'^  what  did  it  all  come  to?  Utterly  self-deceived,  and  far  iver.  39 
i'rom  the  truth  in  their  elaborate  attempts  to  outdo  each  other  in 
local  ingenuity,  they  would,  while  rejecting  the  Messiah  sent  from 
God,  at  last  become  the  victims  of  a  coarse  Messianic  impostor.''  And  '  ^"^-  *o-^ 
even  in  the  present,  what  was  it  all?  Only  the  letter — the  outward! 
All  the  lessons  of  their  past  miraculous  history  had  been  utterly  lost 
on  them.  What  had  there  been  of  the  merely  outward  in  its  miracles 
and  revelations ?'^  It  had  been  the  witness  of  the  Father;  but  this  fver. 37 
was  the  very  element  which,  amidst  their  handling  of  the  external 
form,  they  perceived  not.  Nay,  not  only  the  unheard  Voice  t)f  the 
Father,  but  also  the  heard  voice  of  the  Prophets — a  voice  which  they 
might  have  heard  even  in  John  the  Baptist.  They  heard,  but  did  not 
perceive  it — just  as,  in  increasing  measure,  Christ's  sayings  and  doings, 
and  the  Father  and  His  testimony,  were  not  perceived.  And  so  all 
hastened  on  to  the  judgment  of  final  unbelief,  irretrievable  loss,  and 

'  Such  a  logical  inversion  seems  necessary  in  passing  from  the  objective  to  the 
subjective. 


466 


FROM    .loRDAX    TO   THH    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
TTI 


»>  w.  19-32 


<=  St.  John 
XX.  30 


self-caused  condemnation."  It  was  all  utterly  mistaken;  utter,  and, 
alas!  guilty  perversion,  their  elaborate  trifling  with  the  most  sacred 
things,  while  around  them  were  suH'cring,  perishing  men,  stretching 
'  lame  hands  '  into  emptiness,  and  wailing  out  their  mistaken  hopes 
into  the  eternal  silence. 

While  they  were  discussing  the  niceties  of  what  constituted 
labour  on  a  Sabbath,  such  as  what  infringed  its  sacred  rest  or  what 
constituted  a  burden,  multitudes  of  them  who  laboured  and  were 
heavy  laden  were  left  to  perish  in  their  ignorance.  That  was 
the  Sabbath,  and  the  God  of  the  Sabbath  of  Pharisaism;  this  the 
rest,  the  enlightenment,  tlie  hope  for  them  who  laboured  and  were 
heavy  laden,  and  who  longed  and  knew  not  where  to  find  the  true 
Sabbatismosl  Nay,  if  the  Christ  had  not  been  the  very  opposite  of 
all  that  Pharisaism  sought.  He  would  not  have  been  the  Orient  Sun  of 
the  Eternal  Sabbath.  But  the  God  AVho  ever  Avorked  in  love.  Whose 
rest  was  to  give  rest.  Whose  Sabbath  to  remove  burdens,  was  His 
Father.  He  knew  Him;  He  saw  His  working;  He  was  in  fellowship 
of  love,  of  work,  of  power  with  Him.  He  had  come  to  loose  every 
yoke,  to  give  life,  to  bring  life,  to  be  life — because  He  had  life:  life  in 
its  fullest  sense.  For,  contact  with  Him,  whatever  it  may  be,  gives 
life:  to  the  diseased,  health;  to  the  spiritually  dead,  the  life  of  the 
soul;  to  the  dead  in  their  graves,  the  life  of  resurrection.  And  all 
this  was  the  meaning  of  Holy  Scripture,  when  it  pointed  forward  to 
the  Lord's  Anointed;  and  all  this  was  not  merely  His  own,  but  the 
Father's  Will — the  Mission  which  He  had  given  Him,  the  Work  which 
He  had  sent  Him  to  do." 

Translate  this  into  deed,  as  all  His  teachings  have  been,  are,  and 
will  be,  and  we  have  the  miraculous  cure  of  the  impotent  man,  with 
its  attendant  circumstances.  Or,  conversely,  translate  that  deed,  with 
its  attendant  circumstances,  into  words,  and  we  have  the  discourse  of 
our  Lord.  Moreover,  all  this  is  fundamental  to  the  highest  understand- 
ing of  our  Lord's  history.  And,  therefore,  we  understand  how,  many 
years  afterwards,  the  beloved  disciple  gave  a  place  to  this  miracle, 
when,  in  the  full  ripeness  of  spiritual  discernment,  he  chose  for  record 
in  his  Gospel  from  among  those  '  many  signs,'  which  Jesus  truly  did,*^ 
only  five  as  typical,  like  the  five  porches  of  the  great  Bethesda  of 
His  help  to  the  impotent,  or  like  the  five  divisions  into  which  the 
Psalter  of  praise  was  arranged.  As  he  looked  back,  from  the  height 
where  he  stood  at  his  journey's  end,  to  where  the  sun  was  setting  in 
purple  and  golden  glory  far  across  the  intervening  landscape,  amidst 
its  varying  scenes  this  must  have  stood  out  before  his  sight,  as  what 


CHRIST   AMON(;      THE   IMl'OTENT'   AT   BETHESDA.  467 

nii<;lit  show  to  us  that  '  .Jesus  was  the  Clirist,  the  Sou  of  (iod,  and      cilAl'. 
that  believing  we  might  have  life  through  His  Nanu,'/'  Xll 

And  so,  understanding  from  what  He  afterwards  said  to  '  the  Jews  '  "— ^r — ' 
what  He  thought  and  felt  in  going  thither,  we  are  better  prepared  to  ^xVi^^" 
follow  the  Christ  to  Bethesda.  Two  pietures  must  have  been  here 
simultancousl}^  present  to  His  mind.  On  the  one  side,  a  multitude 
whose  sufferings  and  false  exi)ectancies  rose,  like  the  wail  of  the 
starving  for  bread  ;  and,  on  the  other  side,  the  neighboui-ing  Temple, 
with  its  priesthood  and  tcaehers,  who,  in  their  self-seeking  and  the 
trilling  of  their  religious  externalism,  neither  understood,  heard,  nor 
would  have  cared  for  such  a  cry.  If  there  was  an  Israel,  Prince  with 
God,  and  if  there  was  a  God  of  the  Covenant,  this  must  not,  cannot 
be  ;  and  Christ  goes  to  Bethesda  as  Israel's  Messiah,  the  Truth,  and 
the  Life.  There  was  twofold  suffering  there,  and  it  were  difficult  to 
know  which  would  have  stirred  Him  most :  that  of  the  body,  or  the 
mistaken  earnestness  which  so  trustfully  looked  for  Heaven's  relief — 
yet  within  such  narrow  limits  as  the  accident  or  good  fortune  of  being 
first  pushed  into  the  Angel-troubled  waters.  But  this  was  also  a  true 
picture  of  His  people  in  their  misery,  and  in  their  narrow  notions  of 
God  and  of  the  conditions  of  His  blessing.  And  now  Israel's  Messiah 
had  at  last  come.  What  would  we  expect  Him  to  have  done?  Surely 
not  to  preach  controversial  or  reformatory  doctrines;  but  to  do,  if  it 
were  in  Him,  and  in  doing  to  speak.  And  so  in  this  also  the  Gospel- 
narrative  proves  itself  true,  by  telling  that  He  did,  what  alone  would 
be  true  in  a  Messiah,  the  Son  of  God.  It  is,  indeed,  impossible  to 
think  of  Incarnate  Deity — and  this,  be  it  remembered,  is  the  funda- 
mental postulate  of  the  Gospels — as  brought  into  contact  with  misery, 
disease,  and  deatli  without  their  being  removed.  That  power  went 
forth  from  Him  always,  everywhere,  and  to  all,  is  absolutely  necessary, 
if  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  the  Saviour  of  the  world.  And  so  the 
miracles,  as  we  mistakingly  term  the  result  of  the  contact  of  God 
with  man,  of  the  Immanuel  (God  with  us),  are  not  only  the  golden 
ladder  which  leads  up  to  the  Miracle,  God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  but 
the  steps  by  which  He  descends  from  His  height  to  our  lowliness. 

The  waters  had  not  yet  been  'troubled,'  when  He  stood  among 
that  multitude  of  sufferers  and  their  attendant  friends.  It  was  in 
those  breathless  moments  of  the  intense  suspense  of  expectancy, 
when  every  eye  was  fixed  on  the  pool,  that  the  eye  of  the  Saviour 
searched  for  the  most  wretched  object  among  them  all.  In  him,  as  a 
typical  case,  could  He  best  do  and  teach  that  for  which  He  had  come. 
This  <  impotent '  man,  for  thirty-eight  years  a  hopeless  sufferer,  with- 


4  68 


FROM   JORDAN    TO   THE   MOUNT  OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 

m 


»  ver.  7 

•>  ver.  14 

"  Comp.  St. 
John  Ix.  3 


*  ver.  13 


out  attoiKhiut  ()!•  IriciKl"  among  tliof^e  ^\il()lll  iiii^;ei'y^i— in  this  also  the 
true  outcome  of , sin — made  so  intensely  seltish;  and  whose  sickness 
was  really  the  consequence  of  his  sin/'  and  not  merely  in  the  sense 
which  the  Jews  attached  to  it" — this  now  seemed  the  fittest  object  for 
power  and  g-race.  P'or,  most  marked  in  this  history  is  the  entire 
spontaneity  of  our  Lord's  help.'  It  is  idle  to  speak  either  of  faith  or 
of  receptiveness  on  the  man's  par-t .  The  essence  of  the  wliole  1  ies  in  the 
utter  al)sence  of  both;  in  Christ's  raising,  as  it  Avere,  the  dead,  and 
calling  the  things  that  are  not  as  though  they  were.  This,  the  fun- 
damental thought  concerning  His  Mission  and  i)ower  as  the  Clirist 
shines  forth  as  the  historical  background  in  Christ's  subsequent, 
explanatory  discourse.  The  '  Wilt  thou  be  made  whole  ? '  with  which 
Jesus  drew  the  man's  attention  to  Himself,  was  only  to  probe  and  lay 
bare  his  misery.  And  then  came  the  word  of  power,  or  rather  the 
power  spoken  forth,  which  made  him  whole  every  whit.  Away  from 
this  pool,  in  which  there  waT^  no  healing;  away — for  the  Son  of  God 
had  come  to  him  with  the  outflowing  of  His  power  and  jiitying  help, 
and  he  ivas  made  whole.  Away  with  his  l)ed,  not,  although  it  was  the 
holy  Sabbath,  1)ut  just  because  it  was  tlie-Sabbath  of  holy  rest  and 
holy  delight  ! 

In  the  general  absorljedness  of  all  around,  no  ear.  l)ut  that  to 
which  it  had  been  spoken,  had  heard  what  the  Saviour  liad  said. 
The  waters  had  not  been  troubled,  and  the  healing  had  l)een  all  un- 
seen. Before  the  healed  man,  scarcely  conscious  of  what  had  passed, 
had,  with  ncAv-born  vigour,  gathered  Iiimself  up  and  rolled  together 
his  coverlet  to  luisten  after  Him,  Jesus  had  already  withdrawn.''^ 
In  that  multitude,  all  thinking  only  of  their  own  sorrows  and  wants. 
He  had  come  and  gone  unobserved.  But  they  all  now  knew  and 
observed  this  miracle  of  healing,  as  they  saw  this  unl)efriended  and 
most  wretched  of  them  all  healed,  without  the  troubling  of  waters  or 
first  immersion  in  them.  Then  there  was  really  help  in  Israel,  and 
help  not  limited  to  such  external  means!  How  could  Christ  have 
taught  that  multitude,  nay,  all  Jerusalem  and  Jewry,  all  this,  as  well 
as  all  about  Himself,  but  by  Avhat  He  did  ?  And  so  we  learn  here  also 
anotlier  aspect  of  miracles,  as  necessary  for  those  who,  wcaiw  of 
Ka1)l)inic  wrangling,  could,  in  their  felt  impotence,  only  learn  by  what 
He  did  that  which  He  would  say. 

We  know  it  not,  but  we  cannot  believe  that  on  that  day,  nor, 
perhaps,  thenceforth  on  any  other  day,  any  man  stepped  for  healing 


1  Thiscliaracteristic  is  specially  marked 
by  Canon  Wrsfrott. 


'  The  meaninir  of  the   expression   is 
retired'  or  'witlidnnvn  '  Himself. 


TUP]    HEALED   MAN    IN    THE    TE.Ml'LE. 


469 


into  the  bubhling  waters  of  Bethesda.  Ratlici-  would  they  ask  tlio  cilAE' 
healed  man,  Whose  was  the  word  that  had  brought  him  healing?  XII 
But  he  knew  Him  not.  Forth  he  stej)ped  into  (j(j(r.s  free  air,  a  new  ^— ^r — 
man.  It  was  truly  the  holy  Sabbath  within,  as  around  him;  ])ut  he 
thought  not  of  the  <hiy,  only  of  the  rest  and  relief  it  had  brought.  It 
was  the  holy  Sabbath,  and  he  carried  on  it  his  bed.  If  he  remem- 
bered that  it  was  the  Sabbath,  on  which  it  was  unlaAvful  to  carry 
forth  anytliing — a  burden,  he  would  not  be  conscious  that  it  was  a 
Ijurden,  or  that  lie  had  any  burden;  but  very  conscious  that  He,  Who 
had  made  him  whole,  had  bidden  him  take  up  his  bed  and  walk. 
These  directions  had  been  bound  up  v.ith  the  very  word  ('Rise')  in 
which  his  liealing  liad  come.  That  was  enough  for  him.  And  in  this 
lay  the  beginning  and  root  of  his  inward  healing.  Here  was  simple 
trust,  unquestioning  obedience  to  the  unseen,  unknown,  ]:)ut  real 
Saviour.  For  he  believed  Him,'  and  therefore  trusted  in  Him,  that 
He  must  be  right;  and  so,  trusting  without  questioning,  he  obeyed. 

The  Jews  saw  him,  as  from  Bethesda  he  carried  home  his  '  l)ur(h'n.' 
Such  as  that  he  carried  were  their  only  burdens.  Although  the  law 
of  Sabbath-observance  must  have  been  made  strictei-  in  later  Rabbinic 
development,  when  even  the  labour  of  moving  the  sick  into  the  waters 
of  Bethesda  would  have  been  unlawful,  unless  there  had  been  present 
danger  to  life,- yet,  admittedly,  this  carrying  of  the  bed  was  an  in- 
fringement of  the  Sabbatic  law,  as  interpreted  by  traditionalism. 
Most  characteristically,  it  was  this  external  infringement  which  they 
saw,  and  nothing  else;  it  was  the  Person  Who  had  commanded  it 
Whom  they  would  know^,  not  Him  Who  had  made  whole  the  impotent 
man.  Yet  this  is  quite  natural,  and  perhaps  not  so  ditlerent  from 
what  we  may  still  witness  among  ourselves. 

It  could  not  have  been  long  after  this — most  likely,  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible—that the  healed  man  and  his  Healer  met  in  the  Temple.  What 
He  then  said  to  him,  conq:)leted  the  inward  healing.  On  the  ground 
of  his  having  lieen  healed,  let  him  be  whole.  As  he  trusted  an<l 
obeyed  Jesus  in  the  outward  cure,  so  let  him  now  in^\ardly  and 
morally  trust  and  obey.  Here  also  this  looking  through  the  external 
to  the  internal,  through  the  tempoi-al  to  the  spiritual  and  eternal, 
which  is  so  characteristic  of  the  after-discourse  of  Jesus,  nay,  of  all 

1  In  connection  with  tills  see  ver.  24.  30;  viii.  ^^0,  .'51;  1  .Joini  v.  10). 

where  tlie  expression  is  '  believetb  Him,'  -  Tiie  whole  subject  of  tiie  Sabbath- 

not    'on   Him'  as   In   the  A.V.,    which  Law   will   be   specially   discussed   in    a 

occasionally   obliterates    the    difference  later  cliapter.     See  also  Aj)pendi.x  XVII. 

between  the  two,  which  is  so  important,  on  'The  Law  of  the  Sabbath'  accord- 

the  one  implying  credit,   the  other  its  ing  to  the  Mishuah  and  Talmud, 
outcoming  trust  (conip.  St.  John  vi.  29, 


470  FROM    JORDAN    TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      His  discourses  and  of  His  deeds,  is  most  marked.     The  healed  man 
III        now  knew  to  Whom  he  owed  faith,  gratitude,  and  trust  of  obedience; 

^— '--r and  the  consequences  of  this  knowledge  must  have  been  incalculable. 

It  would  make  him  a  disciple  in  the  truest  sense.  And  this  was  the 
only  additional  lesson  which  he,  as  each  of  us,  must  learn  indivi- 
dually and  personally:  that  the  man  h(>aled  by  Christ  stands  in  quite 
another  position,  as  regards  the  morally  right,  from  wliat  he  did  be- 
fore— not  only  before  his  healing,  but  even  before  his  felt  sickness,  so 
that,  if  he  were  to  go  back  to  sin,  or  rather,  as  the  original  implies, 
'continue  to  sin,''  a  thing  infinitely  worse  would  come  to  him. 

It  seems  an  idle  question,  why  the  healed  man  told  the  Jews  that 
it  was  Jesus.  It  was  only  natural  that  he  should  do  so.  Rather  do 
we  ask.  How  did  he  know  that  He  Who  had  spoken  to  him  was  Jesus? 
Was  it  by  the  surrounding  of  keen-eyed,  watchful  Rabbis,  or  by  the 
contradiction  of  sinners?  Certain  we  are,  that  it  was  far  better  Jesus 
should  have  silently  withdrawn  from  the  porches  of  Bethesda  to  make 
it  known  in  the  Temple,  Who  it  was  that  had  done  this  miracle.  Far 
more  eflectually  could  He  so  preach  its  lesson  to  those  who  had  been 
in  Bethesda,  and  to  all  Jewry. 

And  yet  something  further  was  required.  He  must  speak  it  out 
in  clear,  open  words,  what  was  the  hidden  inward  meaning  of  this 
miracle.  As  so  often,  it  was  the  bitter  hatred  of  His  persecutors 
which  gave  Him  the  opportunity.  The  first  forthbursting  of  His 
Messianic  Mission  and  Character  had  come  in  that  Temple,  when  He 
realised  it  as  His  Father's  House,  and  His  Life  as  about  His  Father's 
business.  Again  had  these  thoughts  about  His  Father  kindled  within 
Him  in  that  Temple,  when,  on  the  first  occasion  of  His  Messianic 
appearance  there.  He  had  sought  to  purge  it,  that  it  might  be  a  House 
of  Prayer,  And  now,  once  more  in  that  House,  it  was  the  same  con- 
sciousness about  God  as  His  Father,  and  His  Life  as  the  business  of 
His  Father,  which  furnished  the  answer  to  the  angry  invectives  about 
His  breach  of  the  Sabbath-Law.  The  Father's  Sabbath  was  His, 
the  Father  worked  hitherto  and  He  worked;  the  Father's  work  and 

•  ver.  17  His  wcrc  the  same;  He  was  the  Son  of  the  Father.''  And  in  this 
He  also  taught,  what  the  Jews  had  never  understood,  the  true  mean- 
ing of  the  Sabbath-Law,  by  emphasising  that  which  was  the  funda- 
mental thought  of  the  Sabbath — 'Wherefore  the  Lord  blessed  the 
Sabbath  day,  and  halloived  it:'  not  the  rest  of  inactivity,  but  of 
blessing  and  hallowing. 

Once  more  it  was  not   His  whole   meaning,  but  only   this   one 

'  See  Westcott  ad  loc. 


CLOSE   OF   THE    FIRST   .STAGE    OF   CHRIST'S   MINISTRY.  47I 

point,  tliat  He  claimed  to  l)e  e<iiial  with  God,  of  wliieli  they  took  CHAP, 
hold.  As  we  understand  it,  the  diseourse  I)e,<<'innin<>-  with  verse  19  is  XII 
not  a  continuation  of  that  which  liad  been  l)(\ii,-un  in  verse  17,  but  was  ^ — "^ — -" 
delivered  on  another,  though  probably  pi'oxiniate  occasion.  By  what 
He  had  said  about  the  Father  working'  hitherto  and  His  working,  He- 
had  silenced  the  multitude,  who  must  have  felt  that  God's  rest  was 
truly  that  of  beneticence,  not  of  inactivity.  But  He  had  raised 
another  question,  that  of  His  equality  with  God,  and  for  this  He  was 
taken  to  task  by  the  Masters  in  Israel.  To  them  it  was  that  He 
addresse<l  that  discourse  which,  so  to  speak,  pi-eached  His  miracle  at 
the  Pool  of  l>ethesda.  Into  its  details  we  cannot  enter  further  than 
has  already  been  done.  Some  of  its  reasonings  can  be  clearly  traced, 
as  starting  from  certain  fundamental  positions,  held  in  common  alike 
by  the  Sanhedrists  and  by  Christ.  Others,  such  as  probal)ly  in  answer 
to  unreportetl  olyections,  we  may  guess  at.  This  may  also  account 
for  what  may  seem  occasional  aliruptness  of  transitions. 

But  what  most  impresses  us,  is  the  majestic  grandeur  of  Christ's 
self-consciousness  in  presence  of  His  enemies,  and  yet  withal  the  tone 
of  pitying  sadness  which  pervades  His  discourse.  The  time  of  the 
judgment  of  silence  had  not  yet  come.  And  for  the  present  the  majesty 
of  His  bearing  overawed  them,  even  as  it  did  His  enemies  to  the  end, 
and  Christ  could  pass  unharmed  from  among  them.  And  so  ended 
that  day  in  Jerusalem,  And  this  is  all  that  is  needful  lor  us  to  know 
of  His  stay  at  the  Unknown  Feast.  With  this  inward  separation,  and 
the  gathering  of  hostile  parties  closes  the  tirst  and  begins  the  second, 
stage  of  Christ's  Ministry. 


472  FROU    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

BY  THE  SEA  OF  GALILEE — THE  FINAL  CALL  OF  THE  FIRST  DISCIPLES, 
AND  THE  MIRACULOUS  DRAUGHT  OF  FISHES. 

(St.  Matt.  iv.  18-22;  St.  Mark  i.  I(J-20:  St.  Luke  v.  l-Il.) 

BOOK      We  are  once  again  out  of  tlie  ^^titling-  spiritual  atmosphere  of  the 
ni        great  City,  and  by  'the  glorious  Lake  of  Galilee.     They  were  other 

— -r — '  men,  these  honest,  simple,  earnest,  impulsive  Galileans,  than  that  self- 
seeking,  sophistical,  heartless  assemblage  of  Rabbis,  whose  fh'st  active 
persecution  Jesus  had  just  encountered,  and  for  the  time  overawed  by 
the  majesty  of  His  bearing.  His  return  to  Capernaum  could  not  have 
remained  unknown.  Close  by,  on  either  side  of  the  city,  the  counti-y 
was  studded  with  villages  and  towns,  a  busy,  thriving,  happy  multi- 
tude. During  that  bright  summer  He  had  walked  along  that  Lake, 
and  by  its  shore  and  in  the  various  Synagogues  preaclied  His  Gospel. 
And  they  had  been  '  astonished  at  His  doctrine,  for  His  word  was 
with  power.'  For  the  first  time  they  had  heard  what  they  felt  to  l)e 
'the  Word  of  God,'  and  they  had  learned  to  love  its  sound.  Wliat 
wonder  that,  immediately  on  His  return,  '  the  people  pressed  upon 
Him  to  hear  '  it. 

If  we  surrender  ourselves  to  the  impression  which  the  Evangelic 
narratives  give  us  when  pieced  together,^  it  would  almost  seem,  as  if 
what  we  are  about  to  relate  had  occurred  wliile  Jesus  was  returning 
from  Jerusalem.  For.  the  better  reading  of  St.  Mark  i.  16  gives  this 
as  the  mark  of  time:  '  As  He  was  passing  on  by  the  Sea  of  Galilee.' 
But  perhaps,  viewed  in  connection  with  Avliat  follows,  the  impression 
may  be  so  far  modified,  that  we  may  think  of  it  as  on  the  fir.st  morn- 
ing after  His  return.      It  had  ])rol)ably  been  a  night  of  storm  on  the 

'  The  accounts  in  the  tliree  Synoptic  which  is  evidential  of  the  Petrine  origin 

Go3i)els  must  be  carefully  pieced  together,  of  the  information.     St.   Luke  seems  to 

It  will  be  seen  that  only  thus  can.  they  have   made   si»ecial   inquiry,  and,  while 

be   understood.     Tlie   narratives    of  St.  adopting  the  narrative  of  the  others,  su))- 

Matthew  and  St.  Mark  are  almost  liter-  plements    it   with   what     without   them 

ally  the  same,  only  adding  in  St.  Mark  i.  would  be  almost  unintelligible. 
20  a  notice  about  •  the  hired  servants,' 


FISHING   IN   THE    LAKE   OF   GALILEE. 


473 


Lake.  For,  the  toil  of  the  risherinen  had  brought  thciii  no  <lrauglit 
of  fishes,"  and  tliey  stood  by  the  shore,  or  in  the  bouts  drawn  up  on  the 
beach,  casting  in  their  nets  to  '  wasli '  them  '  of  the  sand  and  pebbles, 
with  which  such  a  night's  work  would  clog  them,  or  to  mend  what 
had  been  torn  by  the  violence  of  the  weaves.  It  was  a  busy  scene; 
for,  among  the  many  industries  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  that  of  fish- 
ing w^as  not  only  the  most  generally  pursued,  but  }jerhaps  the  most 
lucrative. 

Tradition  had  it,  that  since  the  days  of  Joshua,  and  ])y  one  of  his 
ten  ordinances,  fishing  in  the  Lake,  though  under  certain  necessary 
restrictions,  was  free  to  all.^  And  as  fish  was  among  the  favourite 
articles  of  diet,  in  health  and  sickness,  on  week-days  and  especially  at 
the  Sabbath-meal,  many  must  have  been  employed  in  connection  with 
this  trade.  Frequent,  and  sometimes  strange,  are  the  Rabbinic 
advices,  what  kinds  of  fish  to  eat  at  difierent  times,  and  in  Avhat 
state  of  preparation.  They  Avere  eaten  fresh,  dried,  or  pickled;''  a 
kind  of  *  relish  '  or  sauce  was  made  of  them,  and  the  roe  also  prepared." 
We  are  told,  how  the  large  fish  was  carried  to  market  slung  on  a  ring 
or  twine, '^  and  the  smaller  fish  in  baskets  or  casks.  In  truth,  these 
Rabbis  are  veritable  connoisseurs  in  this  delicacy;  they  discuss  their 
size  with  exaggerations,  advise  when  they  are  in  season,  discern  a 
peculiar  fiavour  in  the  same  kinds  if  caught  in  difierent  w^aters,  and 
tell  us  how  to  prepare  them  most  tastfully,  cautioning  us  to  wash 
them  down,  if  it  cannot  be  w^th  water,  with  beer  rather  than  wine,"' 
It  is  one  of  their  usual  exaggerations,  when  we  read  of  300  difierent 
kinds  offish  at  a  dinner  given  to  a  great  Rabbi,  ^  although  the  com- 
mon proverb  had  it,  to  denote  what  w'as  abundant,  that  it  was  like 
'  bringing  fish  to  Acco. ' "-'  Besides,  fish  was  also  largely  imported  from 
abroad,*  It  indicates  the  importance  of  this  traffic,  that  one  of 
the  gates  of  Jerusalem  was  called  '  the  fish-gate, ' ''  Indeed,  there  is 
a  legend'  to  the  ettect,  that  not  less  than  600,000  casks  of  sardines 
were  every  week  supplied  for  the  fig-dressers  of  King  Jannseus.  But, 
apart  from  such  exaggerations,  so  considerable  was  this  trade  that, 
at  a  later  period,  one  of  the  Patriarchs  of  the  Sanhedrin  engaged 
in  it,  and  actually  freighted  ships  for  the  transport  offish." 


CHAP. 
XIII 


"  St.  Luko 


''  St.  Matt, 
vli.  10 :  xiii. 
47 ;  XV.  36 


■'  Bab.  Mez. 
ii.  1 


f  Moed  K. 
11  a,  last 
Une 

f  Jer.  Sheq. 
vi.  '2,  p.  50  a 

BShem.  R.  9 


h  Neh.  iu.  3 
'  Ber.  44  a 


^  Jer.  Ab.  Z. 
ii,  10,  p.  42  a 


'  St.  Matt.  iv.  18  &c. ;  St.  Mark  i,  16 
A-e.  as  compared  with  St.  Luke  v.  2. 

-  Iu  order  not  to  iiiijiede  iiaviiiation,  it 
was  forbidden  to  fix  nets.  For  these  two 
ordinances,  see  Baba  K.  80  b,  hist  line  .fee. 
The  reference  to  the  lisliing  in  the  lake  is 
in  81  //.  But  see  Tos.  Baba  K.  viii.  17,  18. 


■■'  Tliree  Hues  before  that  we  read  this 
sayinii;  of  a  fishernian :  '  Roast  fish  with 
his  brother  (salt),  lay  it  beside  his  father 
(water),  eat  it  with  his  son  (fisli-juice), 
and  drink  upon  it  his  father  '  (water). 

*  Specially  from  Egypt  and  Spain, 
Machsh.  vi.  3. 


474 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


» So  in 
Erub.  30  a 


i>  Ab.  i.  1 ; 
Sanh.  91  b 


e  St.  John  1. 
37  &c. 


1  St.  Matt, 
iv.  20,  22 


These  notices,  whicli  might  be  largely  multiplied,  are  ol"  more  than 
antiquarian  interest.  They  give  a  more  vivid  idea  of  life  by  the 
Lake  of  Galilee,  and  show  that  those  engaged  in  that  trade,  like 
Zebedee  and  his  sons  {~T'?]i  'the  God-given,'  like  Theodore  and 
Dorothea),  were  not  unfrcquently  men  of  means  and  standing.  This 
irrespective  of  the  fact,  that  the  Rabbis  enjoined  some  trade  or  indus- 
trial occupation  on  every  man,  whatever  his  station.  We  can  picture 
to  ourselves,  on  that  bright  autumn  morning,  after  a  stormy  night  of 
bootless  toil,  the  busy  scene  by  the  Lake,  with  the  fishermen  cleaning 
and  mending  their  nets.  Amidst  their  work  they  would  scarcely 
notice  the  gathering  crowd.  As  we  have  suggested  from  the  better 
reading  of  St.  Mark  i.  16,  it  was  Christ's  first  walk  by  the  Lake  on 
the  morning  after  His  return  from  Judaea.  Engaged  in  their  fishing 
on  the  afternoon,  evening,  and  night  of  His  arrival  in  Capernaum, 
they  would  probably  not  have  known  of  His  presence  till  He  spake  to 
them.  But  He  had  come  that  morning  specially  to  seek  four  of  these 
fishers,  that  He  might,  now  that  the  time  for  it  had  come,  call  them 
to  permanent  discipleship — and,  what  is  more,  fit  them  for  the  work 
to  which  he  would  call  them. 

Jewish  customs  and  modes  of  thinking  at  that  time  do  not  help 
us  further  to  understand  the  Lord's  call  of  them,  except  so  far  as  they 
enable  us  more  clearly  to  apprehend  what  the  words  of  Jesus  would 
convey  to  them.  The  expression  '  Follow  Me '  would  be  readily 
understood,  as  implying  a  call  to  become  the  permanent  disciple  of  a 
teacher.''  Similarly,  it  was  not  only  the  practice  of  the  Rabbis,  but 
regarded  as  one  of  the  most  sacred  duties,  for  a  Master  to  gather 
around  him  a  circle  of  disciples."  Thus,  neither  Peter  and  Andrew, 
nor  the  sons  of  Zebedee,  could  have  misunderstood  the  call  of  Christ, 
or  even  regarded  it  as  strange.  On  that  memorable  return  from  His 
Temptation  in  the  wilderness  they  had  learned  to  know  Him  as  the 
Messiah,"  and  they  followed  Him.  And,  now  that  the  time  had  come 
for  gathering  around  Him  a  separate  discipleship,  Avhen,  with  the 
visit  to  theUnknowai  Feast,  the  Messianic  activity  of  Jesus  had  passed 
into  another  stage,  that  call  would  not  come  as  a  surprise  to  their 
minds  or  hearts. 

So  far  as  the  Master  was  concerned,  we  mark  three  points.  First, 
the  call  came  after  the  open  breach  with,  and  initial  persecution  of, 
the  Jewish  authorities.  It  was,  therefore,  a  call  to  fellowship  in  His 
peculiar  relationship  to  the  Synagogue.  Secondly,  it  necessitated 
the  abandonment  of  all  their  former  occupations,  and,  indeed,  of  all 
earthly  ties.'*     Thirdly,  it  was  from  the  first,  and  clearly,  marked  as 


'1   WILL   MAKE   YOU    FISHERS   OF   MEN.'  475 

totally  ditforent  from  u  call  to  such  discipleship,  as  that  of  any  other     CHAP. 

Master  in  Israel.     It  was  not  to  learn  more  of  doctrine,  noi-  more       XIII 

fully  to  follow  out  a  life-direction  already  taken,  but  to  begin,  and  to  ^— -v^-^^ 

become,  something  quite  new,  of  which  their  former  occupation  offered 

an  emblem.     The  disciples  of  the  Rabbis,  even  those  of  John  the 

Baptist,  'followed,'  in  order  to  learn;  they,  in  order  to  do,  and  to 

enter  into  fellowship  with  His  Work.      '  Follow  Me,  and  I  will  make 

you  fishers  of  men.'     It  was  then  quite  a  new  call  this,  which  at  the 

same  time  indicated  its  real  aim  and  its  untold  difficulties.     Such  a 

call  could  not  have  been  addressed  to  them,  if  they  had  not   already 

been  disciples  of  Jesus,  understood  His  Mission,  and  the  character  of 

the  Kingdom  of  God.     But,  the  more  we  think  of  it,  the  more  do  we 

perceive  the  magnitude  of  the  call  and  of  the  decision  wiiich  it  implied 

— for,  without  doubt,  they  understood  what  it  implied,  as  clearly,  in 

some  respects  perhaps  more  clearly,  than  we  do.     All  the  deeper, 

then,  must  have  been  their  loving  belief  in  Him,  and  their  earnest 

attachment,  when,  with  such  unquestioning  trust,  and  such  absolute 

simplicity  and  entireness  of  self-surrender,  that  it  needed  not  even  a 

spoken  Yea  on  their  part,  they  forsook  ship  and  home  to  follow  Him. 

And  so,  successively,  Sinu)n '  and  Andrew,   and  John  and  James — 

those  who  had  been  the  first  to  hear,  w^ere  also  the  first  to  follow  Jesus. 

And  ever  afterwards  did  they  remain  closest  to  Him,  who  had  been  the 

first  fruits  of  His  Ministry. 

It  is  not  well  to  speak  too  much  of  the  faith  of  men.  Witn  all 
the  singleness  of  spiritual  resolve — perhaps,  as  yet,  rather  impulse — 
which  it  implied,  they  probably  had  not  themselves  full  or  adequate 
conception  of  what  it  really  meant.  That  would  evolve  in  the  course 
of  Christ's  further  teaching,  and  of  their  learning  in  mind  and  heart. 
But,  even  thus,  we  perceive,  that  in  their  own  call  they  had  already, 
in  measure,  lived  the  miracle  of  the  draught  of  fishes  which  they 
were  about  to  witness.  What  had  passed  between  Jesus  and,  first, 
the  sons  of  Jona,  and  then  those  of  Zebedee,  can  scarcelj^  have  occu- 
pied many  minutes.  But  already  the  people  were  pressing  around 
the  Master  in  eager  hunger  for  the  Word;  for,  all  the  livelong  night 
their  own  teachers  had  toiled,  and  taken  nothing  which  they  could 
give  them  as  food.     To  such  call  the  Fisher  of  Men  could  not  be  deaf. 

1  The  name  Peter  occurs  also  among  chuma  in  JeUuwk's  Betli  ba-Midr.   voL 

the  Jews,  but  not  that  of  Paul.  Thus,  in  vi.  p.   95,  wliere,   liowever,   lie  is  called 

Pesiqta  (ed.  Bubn;  p.  158  a,  line  8  from  Ben  Petio.  In  Menor.  Hamm.   tlie  name 

bottom,  see  also  the  Note  tiiere)  we  read  is  changed  into  Plu'nehas.    Comp.  Jelli- 

of  a  R.  Jose   the   son    of  Peytros,   and  nek,  Beth  ha-Midr.  vol.  vi.  Pref.  xi. 
similarly  in    the    fragments   iwnw    Tan- 


476  FliOM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

HOOK  Tlio  boat  of  Peter  shall  be  His  pulpit;  He  had  consecrated  it  by 
in        consecrating'  its  owner.     The  boat  has  been  thrust  out  a  little  from 

'^ — > '  the  land,  and  over  the  soft  ripple  of  the  waters  comes  the  strange 

melody  ol'  that  Word.  We  need  scarcely  ask  what  He  spake.  It 
would  be  of  the  Father,  of  the  Kingdom,  and  of  those  who  entered  it 
— like  what  He  spake  from  the  Mount,  or  to  those  who  lalioured  and 
were  heavy  laden.  But  it  would  carry  to.  the  hearers  th(3  wondrous 
beauty  and  glory  of  that  opening  Kingdom,  and,  by  contrast,  the  deep 
poverty  and  need  of  their  souls.  And  Peter  had  heard  it  all  in  the 
boat,  as  he  sat  close  by,  in  the  shadow  of  His  Majesty.  Then,  this 
was  tiie  teaching  of  which  he  had  l)ecome  a  disciple;  this,  the  net 
and  the  fishing  to  which  he  was  just  called.  How  utterly  miserable, 
in  one  respect,  must  it  have  made  him.  Could  such  an  one  as  he  ever 
hope,  with  whatever  toil,  to  be  a  successful  fisher? 

Jesws  had  read  his  thoughts,  and  much  more  than  read  them.  It 
was  all  needed  for  the  qualifying  of  Peter  especially,  but  also  of  the 
others  wlio  ha<l  been  called  to  be  fishers  of  men.  Presently  it  shall 
be  all  brought  to  light;  not  only  that  it  may  be  made  clear,  Init  that, 
alike,  the  lesson  and  the  help  may  be  seen.  And  this  is  another  ob- 
ject in  Christ's  miracles  to  His  disciples:  to  make  clear  their  inmost 
thoughts  and  longings,  and  to  point  them  to  the  riglit  goal.  '  Launch 
out  into  the  deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught.'  That  they 
toil  in  vain  all  life's  night,  only  teaches  the  need  of  another  begin- 
ning. The  '  neverthless,  at  Thy  word,'  marks  the  new  trust,  and  the 
new  work  as  springing  from  that  trust.  When  Christ  is  in  the  boat 
and  bids  us  let  down  the  net,  there  must  be  '  a  great  multitude  of 
fishes.'  And  all  this  in  this  syml)olic  miracle.  Already  '  the  net  was 
breaking, '  when  they  beckoned  to  their  partners  in  the  other  ship,  that 
they  should  come  and  help  them.  And  now  both  ships  arc  burdened 
to  the  water's  edge. 

But  what  did  it  all  mean  to  Simon  Peter?  He  had  been  called 
to  full  discipleship,  and  he  had  obeyed  the  call.  He  had  been  in  his 
boat  beside  the  Saviour,  and  heard  what  He  had  spoken,  and  it  had 
gone  to  his  heart.  And  now  this  miracle  which  he  had  witnessed! 
Such  shoal  offish  in  one  spot  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee  was  not  strange. 
The  miraculous  was,  that  the  Lord  had  seen  through  those  waters 
down  where  the  multitude  of  fishes  was,  and  ])i(l(lcn  him  let  down 
for  a  draught.  He  could  see  through  the  intervening  waters,  right 
down  to  the  bottom  of  that  sea;  Ho  could  see  through  him,  to  the 
very  bottom  of  Peter's  heart.  He  did  see  it — and  all  that  Jesus  had 
just  spoken  meant  it,  and  showed  him  what  Mas  there.     And  could  he 


'THEY    KOKSOOK    AIJ.,    AND    FOLLOWED    IILU.'  477 

then  be  a  fisher  ol"  men.  out  of  whose  heart,  alter  a  liCc's  ni^'ht  ol"  toil,      CHAP. 
tlie  net  woiihl  come  u])  cii^jty,  or  rather  only  clog,ii'e(l  with  sand  and       XHI 
torn  with  pebbles^     'Phis  is  wiiat  he  meant  wiien    '  he  Tell  (h)wn  at   ^— — v-^-' 
Jesus'  knees,  sayin.ii,-:  l)('j)art  IVom  me,  lor  I  am  a  sinful  man,  ()  l^ord.' 
And  this  is  why  .lesus  eomlorted  him:    'Fear  not;    from  henceforth 
thou  shalt  catch  men."     And  so  also,  and  so  only,  do  we,  each  of  us, 
learn  the  lesson  of  our  callin.n',   and  receive  the  ti'ue  comfort  in  it. 
Nor  yet  can  anyone  become  a  true  fisher  of  men  in  any  other  than 
such  manner. 

The  teachiuii:  and  the  coiidbrt  i'e(|uir(Ml  not  to  be  re})ealed  in  the 
life  of  Teter,  nov  in  that  of  the  others  who  witnessed  and  shared  in 
what  had  passed.  Many  are  the  truths  wdiich  shine  out  from  the 
symbolism  of  this  scene,  when  the  first  disciples  were  first  called. 
That  call  itself;  the  boat;  the  command  of  Christ,  despite  the  ni<i:ht 
of  vain  toil;  the  unlikely  success;  the  net  and  its  cast  at  the  bidding- 
of  Christ,  with  the  absolute  certitude  of  result,  wlun-e  He  is  and  when 
He  ])ids;  the  miraculous  direction  to  the  spot;  the  multitude  of  fishes 
enclosed;  the  net  about  to  break,  yet  not  breaking;  the  suri)rise,  as 
strange  perhaps  as  the  miracle  itself;  nnd  then,  last  of  all,  the  lesson 
of  self-knowledge  and  humiliation:  all  these  and  much  more  has  the 
Church  most  truly  read  in  this  histoi-y.  And  as  we  turn  from  it, 
this  stands  out  to  us  as  its  final  outcome  and  lesson:  '  And  wiien 
they  had  brought  their  ships  to  land,  they  forsook  all  and  followed 
Him."' 

'  AVp  would  call   special   attention   to  first  Evann-elists,  but   rejects  that  of  the 

the  aiTansement  of  tliis  narrative.     The  third,  on  iirounds  which  neither  admit  nor 

explanation  2:iven   in   the  text  will,  it  is  require  detailed  examination.   The  latest 

hoped,  l)e  sutticieiU  answer  to  the  diffl-  ami  most   curious   idea  of  the  Tiil)iniien 

cullies  raised   by   some   commentators.  sciiool  has  Iteen,  to  see  in  the  account  of 

Sf.rfiufis'  attemjit  to  indicate  the   mythic  St.  Luke  a  refiection  on   Peter  as  Juda- 

ori<^in  of  this  narrative  forms  one  of  the  istically  cramped,  and  to  understand  the 

weakest  parts  of  liis  book.     Keiiii  holds  beckoning  to  his  partners  as  implying 

the  2;enuinenessof  the  account  of  the  two  the  calliiii^  in  of  Pauline  teachers. 


4jti  FROM    .J(JKL)AN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 

A    SABBATH    IN    CAPERNAUM. 

(St.  Matt.  viii.  14-17:  St.  Mark  i.  21-34;  St.  Uiike  iv.  :i:'.-41.) 

BOOK      iT  ^^''^^  tlie  Holy  Subhatli — the  tirst  after  He  had  caUeil  around  Hiin 

III        His  tirst  permanent  <liseiples;  the  first,  also,  after  His  return  from 

^— v-*^   the  Feast  at  Jerusalem.     Of  both  we  eaii  trace  indications   in  the 

account  of  tiiat  morning,  noon,  and  evening  wtiich  the  Evangelists 

furnish.     The  greater  detail  with  which  St,  ^lark,  who  wrote  under 

the  intiueuee  of  St.  Peter,  tells  these  events,  shows  the  freshness  and 

vividness  of  impression  on  the  mind  of  Peter  of  those  earh'  days  of  his 

new    life.       As  indicating   that  what    is   here  recorded  took  i)lace 

immediately  after  the  return  of  Jesus  irom  Jei'usalem,  we  mark,  that 

as  yet  there  were  no  watehtul  enemies  in  wailing  to  entraj)  Him  in 

such  breach  of  the  Law,  as  might  furnish  ground  for  judicial  pro- 

'.st. Luke      ('('dure.     But,  from  their  presence  and  activity  so  soon  afterwards." 

v\.~-'   '' "   we  infer,  that  the  authorities  of  Jerusalem  had  sent  some  of  their 

familiars  to  track  His  steps  in  Galilee 

J3ut  as  yet  all  seemed  calm  and  undisturbed.  Those  simi)le, 
warm-hearted  Galileans  yielded  themselves  to  the  power  of  His  words 
and  works,  not  discerning  hidden  1)laspliemy  in  what  He  said,  nor  yet 
Sabbath-desecration  in  His  healing  on  God's  holy  day.  It  is  morning, 
and  Jesus  goes  to  the  Synagogne  at  Ca})ernainu.'  To  teach  there, 
was  now  His  wont.  But  frequency  could  not  lessen  the  impression. 
In  describing  the  Intluence  of  His  Person  or  words  the  Evangelists 
use  a  term,  which  really  means  amazement.-  And  when  we  find  the 
.St.  Matt,  sanu^  word  to  describe  the  impression  of  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Moimt,"* 
the  inference  is  naturally  suggested,  that  it  presents  the  t\\)^\  if  it 
does  not  sum  u])  the  contents,  of  some  of  His  Synagogue-discourses. 

'  Tlie   accounts  of  this  iriven   by  St.  in  tiio  cliaiitors  of  tlie  presont  work. 

Mark  and  St.  Luke   chronologically  pre-  -  The  foUowinf;:   are    the  passaj^e.s  ir 

cede  what  is  i-elated   in   St.   Matt.   viii.  which  the  same  term  is  used:  St.  Matt. 

14-17.     The  reader  is  requested  in  each  vii.  2S;  xiii.   .')4:  xi.\.    2.5;  x.xii.   .33;  St. 

case  to  peruse  the  Biblical  nari-atives  be-  Mark  i.  22;  vi.  2;  vii.  ."57;  x.  2(i;  xi.  18;  St. 

fore,  or  aloni;;  witli   tlieir   com  mentation  Uuke  ii.  48:   iv.  :)2 :  ix.  43;  Acts  xiii.  12. 


Tii.  -JH 


THE      DEMONISED'    IX   THE   NEW   TESTAMENT. 


479 


It  is  not  iiccessai'v  to  siipiXtsc  that,  wliat  held  His  hearers  spoll-boiiiul,      CHAP, 
hud  ueeessaril}'  also  its  ellcet  on  their  hearts  and  lives.     Men  may  be       XIII 
enraptured  by  the  ideal  without  trying  to  make  it  the  real.     Too  ^— ^r^-^ 
often  it  is  even  in  inverse  proportion;  so  that  those  who  lead  not  the 
most  moral  lives  even  dare  to  denounee  the  New  Testament   stand- 
point, as  below  their  oAvn  (.'onceptions  of  right  and  duty.      I>i!t  there 
is  that  in  man,  evidenee  of  his  origin  and  destiny,  -whicli  always  and 
involuntarily  responds  to  the  presentation  of  the  higher.       And  in 
this  instance  it  was  not  only  what  He  taught,  but  the  contrast  with 
that  to  which  they  had  been  accustomed  on  the  part  of  '  the  Scribes,' 
which  filled  them  with  amazement.      There  was  iio  appeal  to  human 
authority,  other  than  that  of  the  conscience;  no  subtle  logical  dis- 
tinctions, legal  niceties,  nor  clever  sayings.     Clear.  lini])i(l,  and  crys- 
talline, flowed  HisAvords  from  out  the  spring  of  the  Divine  Life  that 
was  in  Him. 

Among  the  hearers  in  the  Synagogue  that  Sabbath  morning  was 
one  of  a  class,  concerning  whose  condition,  whatever  ditticulties  may 
attach  to  our  proper  understanding  of  it,  the  reader  of  the  New- 
Testament  must  form  some  definite  idea.  The  term  'demoniacal 
possession '  occurs  not  in  the  New  Testament.  AVe  owe  it  to 
Josephus,''  from  whom  it  has  passed  into  ecclesiastical    language,    ^comp. 

,^,        1-         •         •,    ,,  Ti  1      ,      •  •  •  Belitzsclt  in 

We  dismiss  it  the  more  readily,  that,  m  our  view,  it  conveys  a  wrong  mehm-s 
impression.  The  New-  Testament  speaks  of  those  A\ho  had  a  spirit,  w<.rter- 
or  a  demon,  or  demons,  or  an  unclean  s])irit,  or  the  spirit  of  an 
unclean  demon,  but  cheifly  of  persons  who  were  'demonised."^ 
Similarly,  it  seems  a  strange  inaccuracy  on  the  part  of  commentators 
to  exclude  from  the  Gospel  of  St.  John  all  notice  of  the  -demonised.' 
That  the  Fourth  Gospel,  although  not  reporting  any  healing  of  th(^ 
ilemonised,  shares  the  fundamental  view  of  the  Synoi)tists.  ai)]iears 
not  only  from  St.  John  vii.  20,  viii.  48,  52.  ))ut  especially  from 
viii.  49  and  x.  20,  21.-  We  cannot  believe  that  the  writer  of  the 
Fourth  Gosi)el  would  have  jiut  into  the  mouth  of  Jesus  the  answer 
•  I  am  not  a  demon.'  or  have  alloAved  Him  to  be  descril)ed  bv  His 


buch 


'  The  won!  •  sjiirit  '  oi-  •  si)irits  '  ooours 
hrice  in  St.  Matthew,  thrice  in  St.  Mark 
and  twice,  in  St.  Luke;  witli  tlie  addition 
'  evil.'  twice  in  St.  Luke;  with  that  of  '  un- 
clean," once  in  St.  Matthew,  eleven  times 
in  St.  Mark,  and  fonf  times  in  St.  Luke. 
The  word  dai'itoov  in  .sinp;ular  or  plural 
occurs  once  in  each  of  the  Synoptists; 
wliile  Sai/ioviov,  in  sing'ular  or  i)hu"al. 
occui-s  nine  times  in  St.  Mattliew.  tlnve 
times  in  St.  Mark,  fourteen  times  in  St. 


Luke,  and  six  times  in  St.  .lohn.  Tiie 
expression  •  tlie  spirit  of  an  unclean  de- 
mon '  occurs  once  in  St.  Luke,  while  the 
verb  -to  be  demonised "  occurs,  in  one 
form  or  another,  seven  times  in  St.  Mat- 
thew, four  times  in  St.  Mark,  once  in  St. 
Luke,  and  once  in  St.  Jolm.  Comp.  also 
the  careful  broc/nrre  of  Pastor  Konz,  Die 
Besessenen  im  N.T..  altliou^h  we  difler 
from  his  conclusions. 

-  Com]),  also  ItV^V.s',  T^eben  .Tesn  i.  p.  457. 


480 


FliOM   JOIiDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Matt. 
X.  8 


'■  St.  Luke 
X.  17,  18 

•■  St.  Matt, 
xvii.  21; 
com  p.  also 
xii.  43  &c., 
also 

8ix)ken  to 
the  dis- 
ciples 


friends  as  not  one  '  demonised,'  without  a  single  word  to  show 
dissent  froni  the  poi)idar  view,  if  he  had  not  shared  tlie  ideas  of  the 
Synoptists.  In  discussing  a  question  of  such  very  serious  import  in 
the  study  and  criticism  of  the  Gospels,  the  precise  facts  of  the  case 
should  in  the  first  place  be  clearly  ascertained. 

The  first  question  here  is,  whether  Christ  Himself  shared  the 
views,  not  indeed  of  His  contemporaries  (for  these,  as  we  shall  see, 
were  very  different),  but  of  the  Evangelists  in  regard  to  what  they 
call  the  'demonised'?  This  has  been  extensively  denied,  and  Christ 
represented  as  only  unwilling  needlessly  to  disturb  a  popular  pre- 
judice, which  He  could  not  at  the  time  effectually  combat.  But  the 
theory  requires  more  than  this;  and,  since  Christ  not  only  tolerated, 
l)ut  in  addressing  the  demonised  actually  adopted,  or  seemed  to 
adopt,  the  prevailing  view,  it  has  been  argued,  that,  for  the  sake  of 
these  poor  affiicted  persons.  He  acted  like  a  physician  who  appears 
to  enter  into  the  fancy  of  his  patient,  in  order  the  more  effectually 
to  heal  him  of  it.  This  view  seems,  however,  scarcely  worth  refuting, 
since  it  imputes  to  Jesus,  on  a  point  so  important,  a  conduct  not 
only  unworthy  of  Him,  or  indeed  of  any  truly  great  man,  but 
implies  a  canon  of  '  accommodation  '  which  might  equally  be  applied 
to  His  Miracles,  or  to  anything  else  that  contravened  the  notions  of 
an  interpreter,  and  so  might  transform  the  whole  Gospel-narratives 
into  a  series  of  historically  untrustworthy  legends.  But  we  will 
not  rest  the  case  on  what  might  be  represented  as  an  appeal  to 
prejudice.  For,  we  find  that  Jesus  not  only  tolerated  the  popular 
'prejudice,' or  that  He  'adopted  it  for  the  sake  of  more  readily 
healing  those  thus  afflicted' — but  that  He  even  made  it  part  of 
His  disciples'  commission  to  '  cast  out  demons,""  and  that,  when  the 
disciples  afterwards  reported  their  success  in  this,  Christ  actually 
made  it  a  matter  of  thanksgiving  to  God.''  The  same  view  underlies 
His  reproof  to  the  disciples,  when  failing  in  this  part  of  their  work;" 
while  in  St.  Luke  xi.  19,  24,  He  adopts,  and  argues  on  this  view 
as  against  the  Pharisees.  Regarded  therefore  in  the  light  of  history, 
impartial  criticism  can  arrive  at  no  other  conclusion,  than  that  Jesus 
of  Xazareth  shared  the  views  of  the  Evangelists  as  regards  the 
'  demonised." ' 

Our  next  inquiry  must  be  as  to  the  character  of  the  phenomenon 

thus  designated.       In  view  of  the  fact  that  in  St.  Mark  ix.  21,  the 

demonised   had   been  such     -of  a  child,'    it  is  scarcely    possible  to 

ascribe  it  simply  to  itioraf  causes.     Similarly,  personal  faith  does  not 

•  This  is  also  tlic  coiicliisioii  lUTiveil  at  by  Wei.ss,  u.  s. 


I'OWKi;    OV   THE    DEMONS   OVKU      TIIK    DEMONISEl).'  4^1 

seem  to  have  been  a  requisite  condition  of  licaliii.ii-.     A<i:ain,  as  other     CHAP. 
diseases   are    mentioned    without    being-  attributed  to  demoniacal       XIV 

intiuenee,  and  as  all    who  were  duuil),  deal',  or  paralysed  Avould  not  " ■, ' 

have  been  described  as  •  demonised,'  it  is  evident  that  all  physical, 
or  even  mental  distempers  of  the  same  class  were  not  ascribed  to  the 
same  cause:  some  might  l)e  natural,  while  others  were  demoniacal. 
On  the  other  hand,  there  were  more  or  less  violent  symptoms  of 
disease  in  every  demonised  person,  and  these  were  greatly  agoravated 
in  the  last  paroxysm,  when  the  demon  quitted  his  habitation.  We 
have,  therefore,  to  regard  the  phenomena  described  as  caused  by  the 
influence  of  such  '  spirits,"  primarily,  ui)on  that  which  forms  the  nexus 
l)etween  body  and  mind,  the  nervous  system,  and  as  producing  dif- 
ferent physical  efiects,  according  to  the  part  of  the  nervous  sj'stem  af- 
fected. To  this  must  be  added  a  certain  impersonality  of  consciousness, 
so  that  for  the  time  the  consciousness  was  not  that  of  the  demonised, 
but  the  demoniser,  just  as  in  certain  mesmeric  states  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  mesmerised  is  really  that  of  the  mesmeriser.  "We  might 
carry  the  analogy  farther,  and  say,  that  the  two  states  are  exactly 
])arall('l — the  demon  or  demons  taking  the  place  of  the  mesmeriser, 
only  tliat  the  ettects  were  more  powerful  and  extensive,  perhaps  more 
enduring.  But  one  point  seems  to  have  been  assumed,  for  which 
there  is,  to  say  the  least,  no  evidence,  viz. ,  that  because,  at  least  in 
many  cases,  the  disease  caused  by  the  demon  was  permanent,  there- 
fore those  who  were  so  affected  were  permanently  or  constantly 
under  the  poAver  of  the  denujn.  Neither  the  New  Testament,  nor 
even  Rabbinic  literature,  conveys  the  idea  of  permanent  demoniac 
indwelling,  to  which  the  later  term  'possession  'owes  its  origin.'  On 
the  contrary,  such  accounts,  as  that  of  the  scene  in  the  Synagogue 
of  Capernaum,  convey  the  inqiression  of  a  sudden  influence,  which 
in  most  cases  seems  occasioned  by  the  spiritual  effect  of  the  Person 
orofthe  Wordsofthe  Christ.  To  this  historical  sketch  we  have  only 
to  add,  that  the  phenomenon  is  not  referred  to  either  in  th<>  Old 
Testament,^  or  in  tln^  Apocrypha,^  nor,  for  that  matter,  in  the 
Mishnah,*  where,   indeed,   from    the  character  of  its  contents,  one 

'  Tlic  nearest  approach  to  it,  so  far  as  could  not  luiv(>  remembered  the  e.\i)res- 

1  am  aware,  occurs  in  Pirqe  de  R.  El.  c.  sions  in  1  Sam.  xvi.  14.  15,  &c.,  wheu  he 

i:!  (ed.   Eembers,  p.  IG  h,   17  r?),  where  sees  a  parallel  to  demoniacal  possessions 

the  influence  of  Satan  over  the  serpent  in  the  case  of  Saul. 

(in  the  history  of  the  Fall)  is  likened  to  ■'  Tob.  viii.  2.  3,  is  not  a  case  in  point, 

that   of  an  evil   spirit  over   a   man,  all  ^  Gfrorer  (.Jahrh.  d.  Ileils,  i.  i)p.  410, 

whose  deeds  and  words  are  done  under  412)  quotes  Erub.  iv.  1  and   Gitt.  vii.  1; 

the  inHuence  of  the  demon,  so  that  he  but    neither   of   tliese   passages   implies 

only  acts  at  his  bidding.  anythinu-  like  demoniac  possession. 

■■^  Surely  Stnmss  (Leben  Jesu,  ii.  10) 


482  ¥\U)y\    JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   THAN><FlGrHATlON. 

BOOK      would  scarcely  expect  to  tiud  it.      l>ut  wo  timl  it  mentioned  not  only 
III         in  the    New  Testament,    l)iit   in   the  writing:^  of   Josepkvs.^      The 
^— — ,- —   references  in  heathen  or  in  Christian  writings  i)Osterior  to  those  of  the 
XcAv  Testament  lie  beyond  our  i)resent  inquiry.^ 

Jn  view  of  these  facts,  we  luay  arrive  at  some  more  definite 
conclusions.  Those  who  contend  that  the  representations  of  the 
Evangelists  are  identical  with  tlu'  popular  Jewish  notions  (jf  the 
time,  must  he  ill  acquainted  with  tlie  latter.  What  these  were,  is 
explained  in  another  place.''  Sullicc  it  here  to  state  that,  whatever 
want  ()l"ch'arness  there  may  he  about  the  Jewish  ideas  of  demoniac  in- 
tluences,  there  is  none  as  to  the  means  proposed  for  their  removal. 
These  nmy  be  broadly  classified  as:  magical  means  for  the  prevention 
of  such  influences  (such  as  the  avoidance  of  certain  places,  times, 
nuud)ers,  or  circumstances;  amulets,  i*cc.);  magical  means  for  the 
cure  of  diseases;  and  direct  exorcism  (either  by  cei'tain  outAvard 
means,  or  else  by  formulas  of  incantation).  .Vgain,  while  the  New 
Testament  furnishes  no  data  by  which  to  learn  tlu^  views  of  Jesus 
or  of  the  Evangelists  regarding  the  exact  character  of  the  i)henom- 
enoii.  it  furnishes  the  fullest  details  as  to  the  maunei'  in  which  the 
denioiiiscd  were  set  free.  This  was  always  the  same.  It  consisted 
neither  in  magical  means  nor  formulas  of  exorcism,  but  always  in 
the  AVord  of  Power  which  Jesus  spake,  or  entrusted  to  His  disciples, 
and  which  the  demons  always  obeyed.  There  is  here  not  only 
difference,  but  contrariety  in  conq^arison  Avith  the  current  Jewish 
notions,  and  it  leads  to  the  conclusion  that  there  was  the  same 
contrast  in  His  views,  as  in  His  treatment  of  the  '  demonised." 

Jewish  superstition  in  regard  to  the  demoniacal  state  can,  there- 
fore, no  more  afiect  the  question  of  the  credibility  of  the  Gospel- 
accounts  of  it,  than  can  quotations  from  heathen  or  from  post- 
Apostolic  Christian  Avriters.  In  truth,  it  must  be  decided  purely  on 
New  Testament  grounds;  and  resolves  itself  into  that  of  the  general 
trustworthiness  of  the  Evangelic  narratives,  and  of  our  estimate  of 
the  Person  of  Christ.  Thus  viewed,  he  wdio  regards  Jesus  as  the 
Messiah  and  the  Son  of  God  can  be  in  no  doubt.  If  we  are  asked 
to  explain  the  rationale  of  the  phenomenon,  or  of  its  cessation — if, 
indeed,  it  has  wholly  and  cNcrywhere  ceased — we  might  simply 
decline  to  attem])t  that   for   which  \\v   have  iu)t   sufficient  data,  and 

'  See,  for  example.  Ant.  vi.   >■.  2:  II.  Ter^t.     i.    ii]"-    279~284i.    iiinl    in   Nanzs 

3;  viii.  2.  ;>:  War  vii.  (J.  3.  Ijrocluu'e. 

''■  The  reader  will  tind  full   references  ■'  See  Appendix  XVI. :   '  .Jewish  Views 

in  the  Encyclopa'dias.  in  Wefsltnn  (Nov.  about  Delnon:^  and  the  demonised.' 


THE    DKMONI.sTJ)    STATK.  4g3 

tliis,  without    iiiiplyin.ii-   that    sucli  did   not   exist,  or  tliat,  if  kiiowii,      CHAI'. 
they  woiihl  not  wholly  vindicate  the  facts  of  tlic  case.     At  any  rate,       XIV 
it  does  not  follow  that  tliere  are  no  snch    data   because  we  do  not   ^— ^r-*^ 
])ossess   them;  nor  is  there  any  i>Tonnd  for    tlie  contention   that,    if 
they  existed,  wo  ought  to  possess  them.     For.  admittedly,  the  phe- 
nomenon was  only  a  temj^oi-ary  one. 

And  yet  certain  considerations  will  occur  to  tlie  thougjitful 
reader,  which,  if  tliey  do  not  explain,  will  at  least  make  him  hesitate 
todcsig-nate  as  inexplicable,  the  tacts  in  question.  In  our  view,  at 
least,  he  would  be  a  bold  interpreter  who  would  ascribe  all  the 
phenomena  even  of  heathen  mag-ic  to  jugglery,  or  else  to  i)urely 
physical  causes.  Admittedly  they  have  ceased,  or  perhaps,  as  much 
else,  assumed  other  forms,  just  as,  so  far  as  evidence  goes,  demoniac 
influence  has — at  least  in  the  form  presented  in  the  New  Testament. 
But,  that  it  has  so  ceased,  does  not  i)rove  that  it  never  existed.  If 
we  believe  that  the  Son  of  Clod  came  to  destroy  the  works  of  the 
Devil,  we  can  understand  the  developed  enmity  of  the  king(h:)m  of 
darkness;  and  if  we  regard  Christ  as  Very  God,  taking,  in  manner  to 
us  mysterious.  Humanity,  Ave  can  also  perceive  how  the  Prince  of 
Darkness  might,  in  counterfeit,  seek  through  the  demonised  a  tem- 
porary dwelling  in  Humanity  for  jnirposes  of  injury  and  destruction, 
as  Christ  for  healing  and  salvation.  In  any  case,  holding  as  we  do 
that  this  demoniac  influence  was  not  permanent  in  the  demonised, 
the  analogy  of  certain  mesmeric  influences  seems  exactly  to  apply. 
No  reference  is  here  made  to  other  supernatural  spirit-influences  of 
which  many  in  our  days  speak,  and  which,  despite  the  lying  and 
imposture  probably  connected  with  them,  have  a  background  of  truth 
and  reality,  which,  at  least  in  the  present  writer's  experience,  cannot 
be  absolutely  denied.  In  the  mysterious  connection  between  the 
sensuous  and  supersensuous,  spirit  and  matter,  there  are  many  things 
which  the  vulgar  '  bread-and-butter  philosophy  '  fails  rightly  to  a])por- 
tion,  or  satisfactorily  to  explain.  Tliat.  without  the  intervention  of 
sensuous  media,  mind  can.  may,  and  does  aftect  mind;  that  even 
animals,  in  proportion  to  their  sensitiveness,  or  in  special  circum- 
stances, are  aflected  by  that  which  is  not,  or  else  not  yet,  seen,  and 
this  quite  independently  of  man  ;  that,  in  slnn-t.  there  are  not  a  few 
phenomena  'in  heaven  and  earth  '  of  which  oui-  i)hilosophy  dreams 
not — these  are  considerations  which,  however  the  superficial  sciolist 
may  smile  at  them,  no  earnest  inquirer  would  care  to  dismiss  with 
peremptory  denial.     And  superstition  only  begins  when  we  look  for 


Mark  i.  23 


484  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE    MOrXT   OF  TRANSFiOURATIOX. 

IU)0K      them,  or  else  wiien  we  attempt  to  accoiuit  Ibr  and  explain  tlicni,  not 
ni        in  the  admission  of  their  possibility. 

^■^^^ — -"  But,  in  our  view,  it  is  of  the  deepest  importance  always  to  keep  in 
mind,  that  the  '  demonised  '  was  not  'a  permanent  state,  or  possession 
by  the  powers  of  darkness.  For,  it  establishes  a  moral  element,  since, 
during  the  period  of  their  temporary  liberty,  the  demonised  might 
have  shaken  themselves  free  from  the  overshadowing  power,  or  sought 
release  from  it.  Thus  the  demonised  state  involved  ])ersonal  re- 
sponsibility, although  that  of  a  diseased  and  disturbed  consciousness. 
In  one  respect  those  who  were  '  demonised  '  exhibited  the  same 
phenomenon.  They  all  owned  the  Power  of  Jesus.  It  was  not  other- 
wise in  the  Synagogue  at  Capernaum  on  that  Sabbath-morning. 
What  Jesus  had  spoken  produced  an  immediate  effect  on  the  demon- 
ised, though  one  Avhich  could  scarcely  have  been  anticipated.     For, 

»inst.  there  is  authority  for  inserting  the  word  '  straightway  ' "  immediately 
after  the  account  of  Jesus'  preaching.  Yet,  as  we  think  of  it,  we 
cannot  imagine  that  the  demon  would  have  continued  silent  nor  yet 
that  he  could  have  spoken  other  than  the  truth  in  the  Presence  of  the 
God-Man.  There  must  be,  and  yet  there  cannot  be,  resistance.  The 
very  Presence  of  the  Christ  meant  the  destruction  of  this  work  of 
the  Devil.  Involuntarily,  in  his  confessed  inability  of  disguise  or  re- 
sistance, he  OAvns  defeat,  even  before  the  contest.  '  What  have  we  to 
do  with  Thee,  Jesus  of  Nazareth?^  Thou  art  come  to  destroy  us !^ 
I  know  Thee  Who  Thou  art,  the  Holy  One  of  God. "  And  yet  there 
seems  in  these  words  already  an  emergence  of  the  consciousness  of 
the  demonised,  at  least  in  so  far  that  there  is  no  longer  confusion 
between  him  and  his  tormenter,  and  the  latter  speaks  in  his  own 
name.  One  stronger  than  the  demon  had  affected  the  higher  part  in 
the  demonised.  It  was  the  Holy  One  of  God,  in  Whose  Presence  the 
powers  of  moral  destruction  cannot  be  silent,  but  must  speak,  and 
own  their  subjection  and  doom.  The  Christ  needs  not  to  contend  : 
that  He  is  the  Christ,  is  itself  victory. 

But  this  was  not  all.  He  had  come  not  only  to  destroy  the 
works  of  the  Devil.  His  Incarnation  meant  this — and  more:  to  set 
the  prisoners  free.  By  a  Avord  of  command  He  gagged  ''  the  confes- 
sions  of  the   demon,  unwillingly  made,   and   even   so   with    hostile 

1  I  have  omitted,  on  critical  grounds,  =*  This  is  the  real  nieauiiig  of  the  ex- 

the  clause.  'Let  us  alone.'     The  expres-  pression  rendered,  '  Hold  thy  peace.'    it 

sion,  '  What  between  us  and  Thee,  Jesu  stills  the  raging  of  the  })owero  of  evil  ■ 

Nazarene,'   contains  a  well-known   He-  just  as,  characteristically,  it  is  again  eni- 

^I'aisin.  ployed  in   the  stilling  of  the  storm,  St. 

^  This  seems  the  more  correct  rendering.  Mark,  iv.  39. 


'A    NEW    DOCTIMNK    WITH    Al'TFIORITY!'  485 

iutoiit.     It  wat^  not  by  siicli  Noii-r.s  tliat  He  would  luivt;  His  Messiah-     CHAP. 
ship   ever   proclaiuuMl.     Such    testimony  was  wholly    unfitting   and       Xiv 
incongruous;  it  would  have  been  a  strange  discord  on  tlu'  witness  of  "— -v — ' 
the  Baptist  and  the  Voice  Which  had  proclaimed  llini  from  heaven. 
And,  truly,  had  it  been  admitted,  it  would  have  strangely  jarred  in  a 
Life  which  needed  not,  anel  asked  not  even  the  witness  of  men,  but 
ai)pealed  straightway  to  God  Himself.     Nor  can  we  fail  to  i)erceive 
how,  had  it  been  allowed,  it  would  have  given  a  true  ground  to  what 
the  Pharisees  sought  to  assign  as  the  interpretation  of  His  Power, 
that  by  the  Prince  of  Demons  He  cast  out  demons.     And  thus  there 
is  here  also  deep  accord  with  the  fundamental  idea  which  was  the 
outcome  of  His  Temptation:  that  not  the  seemingly  shortest,  but  the 
Divine  way  must  lead  Him  to  the  goal,  and  that  goal  not  Royal  pro- 
clamation, Init  the  Resurrection. 

The  same  power  which  gagged  the  confession  also  bade  the  demon 
relinipiish  his  prey.  One  wild  paroxysm — and  the  sufferer  was  for 
ever  free.  But  on  them  all  who  saw  and  heard  it  fell  the  utter  stupor 
and  confusion  of  astonishment.^  Each  turned  to  his  neighbour  with 
the  inquiry:  'What  is  tliis?  Anew  doctrine  with  authority!  And 
He  comnmndeth  the  unclean  si)irits,  and  they  obey  Him."'  Well 
might  they  inc|uire.  It  had  been  a  threefold  miracle:  'a  new 
doctrine;'  'with  authority;'  and  obedience  of  the  unclean  spirits  to 
His  command.  There  is  throughout,  and  especially  in  the  account  of 
the  casting  out  of  the  demon,  such  un-Jewish  simplicity,  with  entire 
absence  of  what  would  have  been  characteristic  in  a  Jewish  exorcist; 
sucli  want  of  all  that  one  would  have  expected,  if  the  event  had  been 
invented, or  coloured  for  a  purpose, or  tinged  by  contemporary  notions; 
and,  withal,  such  sublimity  and  majesty,  that  it  is  difficult  to  under- 
stand how^  any  one  can  resist  the  impression  of  its  reality,  or  that  He 
Who  so  spake  and  did  was  in  truth  the  Son  of  God. 

From  tlic  Synagogue  we  follow  the  Saviour,  in  company  with  His 
called  disciples,  to  Peter's  wedded  home.  But  no  festive  meal,  as  Avas 
Jewish  wont,  awaited  tlieni  there.  A  sudden  access  of  violent  '  burn- 
ing fever, '  ^  such  as  is  even  now  common  in  that  district,  had  laid 
Peter's    motlier-in-law    prostrate.     If    we    had   still  any   lingering 

'  The  Greek  term   impfies  this.     Be-  ^  This  seems  the  better  rendering, 

aides  its  use  in  this  narrative  (St.  Mar]<  i.  ■'  Such  is  tlie  meaning  of  the  Greek 

27;  St.  Luke  iv.  3(i,  in  tlie  tatter  in  tlie  word.     I   cannot    understand,    wliy   tlie 

sultstautive  form),  it  occurs  in  St.  Mari<  corresponding  term  in  St.  fjuke  should 

X.  24,  132 ;  Acts  ix.  (5;  and  as  a  substan-  have  been  interpreted  in  -The  Speaker's 

tive  in  Acts  iii.  10.  Commentary  as  '  typhoid  fever.' 


486 


FROM    .l(»i;i)AX   TO   TIIH    MOt^'T   OF  TRANSFKU'RATION. 


BOOK 
Til 


»  Shatob. 
67  a 


Thought  1)1"  .Jewish  iiiairical  cures  as  connected  witli  those  of  Jesus, 
what  is  now  rehited  must  dispel  it.  The  Tahiuid  gives  this  disease 
precisely  the  same  name  (Nr-*':"^' NrrN.  Eshatho  Tsemlria),  'burning 
fever,"  and  prescribes  for  it  a  magical  remedy,  of  which  the  principal 
part  is  to  tie  a  knife  wholly  of  iron  by  a  l)raid  of  hair  to  a  thornbush. 
and  to  repeat  on  successive  days  Exod.  iii.  2,  3,  then  ver.  4,  and  tinally 
ver.  5,  after  which  the  bush  is  to  be  cut  down,  while  a  certain  magical 
formnla  is  pronounced.'  How  different  from  this,  alike  in  its  sublime 
simplicity  and  in  the  majestic  bearing  of  Him  Who  healed,  is  the 
Evangelic  narrative  of  the  cure  of  Peter's  mother-in-law.  To  ignore, 
in  our  estimate  of  the  trustworthiness  of  the  Gospels,  this  essential 
contrast,  would  be  a  grave  historical  mistake.  Jesus  is  '  told  '  of  the 
sickness;  He  is  besought  for  her  Avho  is  stricken  down.  In  His 
Presence  disease  and  misery  cannot  continue.  Bending  over  the 
suflerer.  He  'rebuked  the  fever,'  just  as  He  had  rebuked'  'the 
demon  '  in  the  Synagogue,  and  for  the  same  reason,  since  all  disease, 
in  the  view  of  the  Divine  Healer,  is  the  outcome  of  sin.  Then  lifting 
her  by  the  hand,  she  rose  up,  healed,  to  '  minister '  unto  them.  It 
Avas  the  first  Diaconate^  of  woman  in  the  Church — might  we  not 
almost  say,  in  the  world? — a  Diaconate  to  Christ,  and  to  those  that 
were  His:  the  Diaconate  of  one  healed  by  Christ;  a  Diaconate 
immediately  folloAving  such  healing.  The  first,  this,  of  a  long- 
course  of  Avoman's  Diaconate  to  Christ,  in  which,  for  the  first  time, 
woman  attained  her  true  position.  And  Avhat  a  Sabbath-meal  it 
must  have  been,  after  that  scene  in  the  Synagogue  and  after  that 
healing  in  the  house,  when  Jesus  Avas  the  Guest,  they  who  had  Avit- 
nessed  it  all  sat  at  meat  Avitli  Him,  and  she  who  had  been  healed  was 
the  Deaconess.  Would  that  such  Avere  ever  our  Christian  festive 
meals! 

Jt  Avas  evening.  The  sun  Avas  setting,  and  the  Sabbath  past.  All 
that  day  it  had  been  told  from  home  to  home  Avhat  had  been  done 
in  the  Synagogue;  it  had  been  Avhispered  what  had  taken  place  in 
the  house  of  their  neighbour  Simon.  This  one  conviction  had  been 
borne  in  upon  them  all.  that  '  tcith  aufJiority  '  He  spake,  AA'ith  author- 
ity and  poAver  He  commanded  even  the  unclean  spirits,  and  they 
obeyed.  No  scene  more  characteristic  of  the  Christ  than  that  on 
this  autumn  evening  at  Capernaum.  One  by  one  the  stars  had  shone 
out  over  the  tranquil  Lake  and  the  festive  city,  lighting  n])  earth's 


1  Tlie  word  is  the  same  in  both  cases. 
^  The  term  is  the  same.     See  the  re- 


marks of  Volktaar  (Marcus,  pp.  9'J.  lOOi. 


•AT  i-:vKX.  i;i!K  Till-:  srx  was  set."  4^7 

(hirknc.-s  wit  li  licnvcirs  soft  liiiHuiiicy,  as  il'  they  stood  i  hcic  w  il  iicsscs,  cilAP. 

tluit    (iod    liad    lultlllcd    His  jiood  promise  to  Abraham.'     0\i  that  XIV 

cveiiiii.ii'    no    one    in    ('ai)ei-naiini    thought    of  l)tisiness.    ])l('asiiiv,    or  ^— ^,— *-^ 

I'est.      'I'hei'e  must  have  been  manv  homes  of  sorrow,  eare.  and  sick-  "tJen.  xxu. 

17,  18 

iiess  there,  and  in  the  })oi)ulous  nei.ghbourhoud  around.  To  them,  to 
all,  iiad  the  dooi-  of  hope  now  been  opened.  Truly,  a  new  Sun  had 
risen  on  tiiem.  with  liealin.ii-  in  His  wiiiii's.  No  disease  too  desperate, 
Avhen  even  the  demons  owned  tiie  authority  of  His  mere  I'ebuke. 
From  all  ])arts  they  brin_u-  them:  nu)thers,  widows,  wives,  fathers, 
children,  husbands — their  loved  ones,  the  treasures  'hoy  had  almost 
lost;  and  the  wiiole  city  throngs — a  hushed,  solemnised,  overawed 
multitude — expectant,  waiting  at  the  door  of  8inion"s  dwelling. 
There  they  laid  them,  along  the  street  up  to  the  nmrket-place.  on 
their  beds;  or  brought  them,  Avith  beseeching  look  and  word.  What 
a  symbol  of  this  world's  miser}',  need,  and  hope;  what  a  symbol, 
also,  of  what  the  Christ  really  is  as  the  Consoler  in  the  world's  numi- 
foldwoe!  Never,  surely,  was  He  more  truly  the  Christ:  nov  is  He 
in  symbol  more  truly  siu-h  to  us  and  to  all  time,  than  when,  in 
the  stillness  of  that  evening,  under  the  starlit  sky,  He  went  through 
that  sut!ering  throng,  laying  His  hands  in  the  blessing  of  healing  on 
every  one  of  them,  and  casting  out  numy  devils.  No  i)icture  of  the 
Christ  more  dear  to  us,  than  this  of  the  unlimited  healing  of  whatever 
disease  oi'  body  or  soul.  In  its  blessed  indetiniteness  it  eon\'eys  the 
infinite  i)otentiality  of  relief,  Avhatever  misery  have  fallen  on  us,  or 
whatever  care  or  sorrow  oppress  us.  He  must  1)e  blind,  indeed,  wlio 
sees  not  in  this  Physician  the  Divine  Healer;  in  this  Christ  the  Light 
of  the  World;  the  Restoror  of  what  sin  had  lilighted;  the  Joy  in  our 
worhl's  deep  sorrow.  Never  was  i)roi)hecy  more  truly  fulfilled  than, 
on  tiiat  evening,  this  of  Isaiah:  -Himself  took  our  infirmities,  and 
bare  our  sicknesses.' "  By  His  Incarnation  and  Coming,  by  His  taking  >•  is.  un. 
our  infirmities,  and  bearing  our  sicknesses — for  this  in  the  truest  and 
widest  sense  is  the  meaning  of  the  Incarnation  of  the  Christ — did 
He  become  the  Healer,  the  Consoler  of  humanity,  its  Saviour  in  all 
ills  of  time,  and  from  all  ills  of  eternity.  The  most  real  fulfilnuMit 
this,  that  can  be  conceived,  of  Isaiah's  rajtt  vision  of  Who  and  what 
the  Messiah  was  to  be,  and  to  do;  not,  indeed,  what  is  sometimes 
called  fulfilment,  or  expected  as  such,  in  a  literal  and  verbal 
correspondence  with  the  prediction.  An  utterly  mechanical,  external, 
and  unspiritual  view  this  of  prophecy,  in  which,  in  quite  Jewish 
literalism,  the  spirit  is  crushed  by  the  letter.  I>ut.  viewed  in  its  real 
bearing  on  mankind  with  its  wants.  Christ,  on  that  evening,  was  the 


488 


FIIO.M    JORDAN    TO    TllK    iMOl'XT    OF    TRANSFIGURATKJN. 


BOOK      real,  tlioii.n'h  as  yet  only  initial,  riiKilmcnt  oC  the  world's  <>;rL'at  lio])e, 
III         to   wiiicli,  centuries   beloi-e,    the  (Jod-dii'ected   liand   ol"  the   prophet 

'"^^r^^    had  i)ointed.' 

80  ended  that  Sabbath  in  Capernauni:  a  Sabbath  of  healinsi',  joy, 
and  true  rest.  But  lar  and  wide,  into  every  place  of  the  counti-y 
around,  throughout  all  the  region  ot  Galilee,  spread  the  tidings,  and 
with  tlieni  the  lame  of  Jliin  Whom  demons  must  obey,  though  they 
dare  not  pronounce  Him  the  Son  of  Uod.  And  on  men's  ears  fell 
His  Name  with  sweet  softness  of  infinite  promise,  'like  rain  upon  the 
mown  u'rass,  as  showers  that  water  the  earth." 


'  I  cull  sciirccly  timl  words  stroni;' 
eiiouu'li  to  e.\|)rpss  my  dissent  from  tliosc 
who  would  timit  Is.  Hii.  -i,  eitlu'r  on  tlic 
one  luuid  to  spiritual,  or  on  the  other  to 
physical  '  sicknesses.'  The  promise  is  one 
of  future  deliverance  from  both,  of  a 
Restorer  from  all  the  woe  which  sin  had 
brought.  In  the  same  way  the  expres- 
sion 'taking  upon  Himself,'  and  'bear- 
ing' refers  to  tlie  Christ  as  our  Deliverer, 
because  our  .Suljstitute.  Because  lie  took 
upon  Himself  our  iutirmities,  therefore  ll(> 
bore  our  sicknesses.  That  the  view  here 
given  is  that  of  the  N.T.,  appears  from  a 
comparison  of  the  application  of  the 
passage  in  St.  Matt.  viii.  17  with  that  in  St. 


John  i.  20  and  1  Pet.  ii.  24.  The  words, 
as  given  by  St.  Matthew,  are  most  truly 
a  N.T.  'Targum'  of  the  original.  The 
LXX.  renders,  '  This  man  carries  our 
sins  and  is  pained  for  us; '  SijmDwrhtis, 
'  Surely  He  took  up  our  sins,  and  endured 
our  labors; '  the  Targum  .Ion.,  ■  Thus  for 
our  sins  He  will  pray,  and  our  ini(iuities 
will  for  His  sake  be  forgiven.'  (Gomii. 
UrirerawA  Neubaiier,  The  .lewisli  Inter- 
jireters  on  Isaiah  liii.,  vol.  ii.)  Lastly,  it  is 
with  reference  to  this  jiassagc  tliat  the 
Messiah  liears  in  tlie  Taliniid  Die  desig- 
nation, '  The  Leprous  One,"  and  •  tii(!  Sick 
One'  (Sanh.  98  b). 


MIRACLES   AS   I'AKT   OF   GlllllST'S   HUMILIATION,  439 


CHAPTER  XV. 

SKCONl)  JOURNEY  THROIKJH  GALILKE — THE  HEALING  OF  THE  LEPER. 

(8t.  Matt.  iv.  2:5;  viii.  2-4;  St.  Mark  i.  35-4.5;  St.  Luke  iv.  42-44;   v.  12-16.) 

A  DAY  and  an  evening  such  as  of  that  8al)l)atli  of  healing  in  Caper-  CHAP, 
nauni  must,  with  reverence  be  it  written,  have  been  followed  by  what  ^^ 
opens  the  next  section.'  To  the  thoughtful  observer  there  is  such  ^— "v^^ 
unbroken  harmony  in  the  Life  of  Jesus,  such  accord  of  the  inward 
and  outward,  as  to  carry  instinctive  conviction  of  the  truth  of  its  re- 
cord. It  was,  so  to  speak,  an  inward  necessity  that  the  God-Man, 
when  brought  into  C(jntact  with  disease  and  misery,  whether  from 
physical  or  supernatural  causes,  should  remove  it  by  His  Presence, 
by  His  touch,  by  His  Word.  An  outward  necessity  also,  because  no 
other  mode  of  teaching  equally  convincing  would  have  reached  those 
accustomed  to  Rabbinic  disputations,  and  who  must  have  looked  tor 
such  a  manifestation  from  One  Who  claimed  such  authority.  And 
yet,  so  far  from  being  a  mere  worker  of  miracles,  as  we  should  have 
expected  if  the  history  of  His  miracles  had  Ijcen  of  legendary  origin, 
there  is  nothing  more  marked  than  the  pain,  we  had  almost  said  the 
humiliation,  which  their  necessity  seems  to  have  carried  to  His  heart. 
'Except  ye  see  signs  and  wonders,  ye  will  not  believe;'  'an  evil  and 
adulterous  generation  seeketh  a  sign;'  '  blessed  are  they  that  have 
not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed' — such  are  the  utterances  of  Him 
Who  sighed  when  He  opened  the  ears  of  the  deatV  and  bade  His  "St.  Mark 

.  vii.  34 

Apostles  look  for  higher  and  better  things  than  ])ower  over  all  dis- 
eases or  even  over  evil  si)irits."'^     So  would  not  the  Messiah  of  Jew-  ^st.  Luke 
ish  legend  have  spoken  or  done;  nor  would  they  wlio  in\ented  such 
miracles  have  so  referred  to  them. 

Tn  truth,  when,  through  the  rift  in  His  outward  history,  we  catch 
a  glimpse  of  Christ's  inner  Being,  these  miracles,  so  far  as  not  the 
outcome  of  the  mystic  union  of  the  Divine  and  the  Human  in  His 
Person,  but  as  part  of  His  Mission.  Ibriu  part  of  His   Humiliation. 

1  So  both  in  St.  Mark  (i.  li'i-H!))  and  in       accdril  even  in  St.  Mattlunv  (iv.  23). 
St.  Luke  (iv.  42-44),  and  in  sul).stantial  '  So  also  St.  Taui.  1  Cor.  xii.  ;51  :  xiii.  1. 


J.  35 


490  FIJO.M    .loKDAX   TO   THE    MUlNT   OF   TKANSFIGUKATION. 

BOOK      'i'liey  also  hcloii.ii'  to  tliat  way  whicli  lie  had  chosen  in  his  initial  con- 
^^^         quest  of  the  TeHii)ter  in  tlie  ^^'il(lel'ness,  when  He  ehose,  not  the  siul- 

^-"^'^^^  (loii  display  of  absolute  power  for  the  sul)dual  of  His  people,  but  the 
painful,  slow  method  of  nieetinii'  the  wants,  and  addressing'  Himself 
to  the  understamliug  ami  eapacity  of  those  over  Whom  He  would 
reign.  In  this  view,  it  seems  as  if  we  could  gain  a  fresh  under- 
standing, not  only  of  the  expediency  of  His  tinal  dei)arture,  so  far  as 
concerned  the  future  teaching  of  the  disciples  by  the  Holy  Spirit,  but 
of  His  own  hjnging  for  tlie  Advent  of  the  Comforter.  In  truth,  the 
Two  teachers  and  the  two  modes  of  teaching  could  not  be  together, 
and  the  Ascension  of  the  Clirist,  as  the  end  of  His  Ilumiliation, 
marked  the  Advent  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  as  bestowing  another  mode  of 
teaching  than  that  of  the  days  of  His  Hunuliation. 

And  so,  thinking  of  the  scene  on  the  evening  before,  we  can  mi- 

» St.  Mark  derstand  how.  'very  early,  while  it  was  still  very  dark,""  Jesus  rose 
up.  and  went  into  a  solitary  place  to  i)ray.  The  use  of  the  sanu'  ex- 
l)ression'  in  8t.  Mark  xiii.  35  enables  us  to  fix  the  time  as  that  of 
the  fourth  night-watch,  or  Ix'tween  three  and  six  o'clock  of  the  morn- 
ing. It  was  not  till  some  time  afterwards,  that  even  those,  who  had 
so  lately  been  called  to  His  closest  fellowshi}),  rose,  and,  missing 
Him,  followed.  Jesus  had  prayed  in  that  solitude,  and  consecrated 
it.  After  such  a  day,  and  in  i)rosi)ect  of  entering  on  His  second 
journey  through  Galilee- — this  time  in  so  far  ditj'erent  circumstances 
— He  must  prevent  the  dawn  of  the  morning  in  })rayer.  And  by  this 
also  would  they  learn,  that  He  was  not  merely  a  Avorker  of  miracles, 
but  that  He,  Whose  Word  demons  obeyed,  lived  a  Life,  not  of  out- 
ward but  of  inward  power,  in  fellowshi])  with  His  Father,  and  l)ap- 
tized  his  work  with  prayer.  But  as  yet,  and,  indeed,  in  measure  all 
through  His  Life  on  earth,  it  seemed  difficult  for  them  in  any  measure 
to  realise  this.  'All  men  seek  for  Thee,'  and  therefore  they  would 
liavc  had  Him  return  to  Gaiicrnaum.  But  this  was  the  very  reason 
why  He  had  withdrawn  ere  dawn  of  day.  He  had  come  forth,  and 
that,-^  not  to  attract  the  crowds,  and  l)e  proclaimed  a  King,  but  to 
preach  the  Kingdom  of  God.  Once  inoi'c  we  say  it:  so  speaks  not, 
nor  acts  the  hero  of  Jewish  legend ! 

As  the  three  Synoptists  accordantly  state,  Jesus  now  entere(l  on 
His  second  (ialilean  joui'ney.  There  can  lie  little  doul)t.  that  the 
cliroiutlogical  succession  of  events  is  here  accui'ately  imlicated  l)y  the 

'   TT/jcuji".  sliows.  that  the  •(•omnia'  foi'tli"  (Si.  Murk 

'-'  The  circuinstaiici's  will  lie  I'cfcrrcil  111  i.  :>S)  faniiet  lif  Hinitoil   to  His   Icavlii;^; 

hi  the  .sequel.  ("aiieniainn. 
■'  The  exjin'ssioii   in    St.    I.iike    iv.   4;; 


A    NEW    PHASE    IN    THE    WOlfK    OK    (MIKIST. 


491 


more  circumstantial  narrative  ill  St.  Mark's  Gospel.'  The  arrange- 
ment ol'  St.  Luke  appears  that  of  historical  grouping,  while  tiiat  of 
St.  Mattliev\'  is  (letenniiied  hy  the  ILebraie  plan  of  liis  (jiosi)el,  which 
seems  eoiistrueted  (»ii  the  model  of  the  Pentateuch,''  as  if  the  estab- 
lisliment  of  the  Kiiig(h)m  by  the  Messiah  were  presented  as  the  fulfil- 
ment of  its  ))re|^aratory  i)lanling  in  Israel.  But  this  second  journey 
through  (iablee,  which  the  three  Gospels  connect  with  the  stay  at 
Capernaum,  marks  a  turuing-poiut  in  the  working  of  the  Ciirist.  As 
already  stated,  the  occurrences  at  the  •  Unknown  Feast.'''  in  Jerusa- 
lem, formed  a  new  [joint  of  (U'parture.  Christ  had  fully  presented 
His  claims  to  the  Sanhedrists,  and  they  had  been  fully  rejected  by 
the  Scribes  and  the  people.  Henceforth  He  separated  Himself  from 
that  •  untoward  generation;'  henceforth,  also,  began  His  systenmtic 
l)ersecution  by  the  authorities,  when  His  movements  were  tracked 
and  watched.  Jesus  went  alone  to  Jerusalem.  .This,  also,  was 
fitting.  Equall\  so,  that  on  His  return  He  called  His  disciples  to  be 
His  followers:  and  that  from  Capernaum  He  entered,  in  their  com- 
l)any,  on  a  new  phase  in  His  Work. 

Significantly,  His  Work  began  where  that  of  the  Rabbis,  we  had 
almost  said  of  the  Old  Testament  saints,  ended.  Whatever  remedies, 
medical,  magical,  or  synii)athetic,  Ralibinic  writings  nuiy  indicate  for 
various  kinds  of  disease,  leprosy  is  not  included  in  the  catalogue. 
They  lett  aside  what  even  the  Old  Testament  marked  as  moral  death, 
by  enjoining  those  so  stricken  to  avoid  all  contact  with  the  living, 
and  even  to  bear  the  apix'araiice  of  mourners.  As  the  le])er  ])assed 
by.  his  clothes  rent,  his  hair  dishevelled,*  and  the  lower  i)art  of  his 
face  and  his  ui)i)er  lip  covered,''  it  was  as  one  going  to  death  who 
reads  his  own  burial-service,  while  the  mournful  words.  -I'liclean! 
Unclean!'  which  he  uttered,  i)roclaiine(l  that  his  was  both  living  and 
moral  death.     Again,  the  Old  Testament,  and  even  Habbinism.  took. 


CHAr. 
XV 


Lev.  xiil. 


'  Till'  followiiiu'  arc.  Itrictly.  .^oiiic  of 
tlie  considerations  wliicli  (Ictcnniiic  tin' 
chronological  order  here  adopted:  (l.i 
This  eveut  could  not  have  taken  i)lace 
aflrr  the  Sermon  on  tiie  Mount,  since 
tiieu  the  twelve  Apostles  were  alrea<ly 
^•alled.  nor  yet  after  the  call  of  St. 
Mattiiew.  (2.)  From  the  similes  em- 
ployed (about  the  lilies  of  the  field,  ttc. ). 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  seems  to  have 
taken  i)lacein  sprinu;;  tliis  event  in  early 
siutiann.  On  tlie  other  haiul.  the  order 
in  St.  Mark  exactly  tits  in.  and  also  in 
tin;  main  a.ii;rees,  with  that  in  St.  Luke, 
while,  lastly,  it  exhibits  the  lirowin^' per- 


secutiiuis  from  .Jerusalem,  of  which  we 
iiave  here  the  first  traces. 

-  This  is  ini^eniously  iiulicatt-il  in  Pro- 
fessor Delitzsch's  Entsteh.  d.  Kanon. 
Evan;;".,  although,  in  my  view,  the  theory 
cannot  be  carried  out  in  th(>  full  details 
attempted  l)y  the  Profes.^or.  P.ut  such  a 
,i2;enei'al  concepti(ui  of  the  (Jospel  by  St. 
.Matthew  is  not  only  i'easonal)le  in  itself, 
but  explains  his  peculiar  arrangement  of 
events. 

■'  On  the  dale  of  tiiis  feast  ciuup.  .\p- 
pendix  XV. 

*  Vnnw  this  women  were  excepted. 
Sot.  ill.  S. 


492 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


in  the  measures  prescribed  in  leprosy,  primarily  a  uioral,  or  rather  a 
I'itual,  and  only  secondarily  a  sanitary,  view  ol'  the  case.     The  iso- 

^~— ^r — -"  lation  already  indicated,  which  banished  lepers  from  all  intercourse 
except  with  those  similarly  stricken, '  and  Ibrebade  their  entering  not 
only  the  Temple  or  Jerusalem,  ])ut  any  walled  city,^  could  not  have; 
been  merely  prompted  by  the  wish  to  prevent  infection.  For  all  the 
laws  in  regard  to  leprosy  are  expressly  stated  not  to  have  application 
in  the  case  of  heathens,  proselytes  before  their  conversion,  and  even 
of  Israelites  on  their  birth. ^  The  same  inference  must  also  be  drawn 
from  the  circumstance,  that  the  priestly  examination  and  subsequent 
isolation  of  the  leper  were  not  to  commence  during  the  marriage- 

"Neg.  iii.  2  wcck,  or  ou  fcstivc  days,''  since,  evidently,  infection  would  have  been 
most  likely  to  spread  in  such  circumstances.* 

It  has  already  been  stated,  that  Rabbinism  confessed  itself  power- 
less in  presence- of  this  living  death.  Although,  as  Michaelis  rightly 
suggests,*"  the  sacrificial  ritual  for  the  cleansed  leper  implies,  at  least, 
the  possibility  of  a  cure,  it  is  in  every  instance  traced  to  the  direct 
agency  of  God.^  Hence  the  mythical  theory,  whicli,  to  be  rational, 
must  show  some  precedent  to  account  for  the  origination  of  the 
narrative  in  the  Gospel,  here  once  more  breaks  down.**  Keim  cannot 
deny  the  evident  authenticity  of  the  Evangelic  narrative,  and  has  no 
better  explanation  to  offer  than  that  of  the  old  Rationalists — which 
Strauss  had  already  so  fully  refuted' — that  the  poor  sufferer  only  asked 
of  Jesus  to  declare^  not  to  make,  him  clean.'*  In  truth,  the  possibility 
of  any  cure  through  human  agency  was  never  contemplated  b.y  the 
Jews.  Josephus  speaks  of  it  as  possibly  granted  to  prayer,"  but  in  a 
manner  betokening  a  pious  phraseology  without  serious  meaning.  We 
may  go  further,  and  say  that  not  only  did  Rabbinism  never  suggest 
the  cure  of  a  leper,  but  that  its  treatment  of  those  sufferers  presents 
the  most  marked  contrast  to  that  of  the  Saviour.     And  yet,  as  if 


*  Das  Mos, 
Eecht,  vol 
iv.  p.  195 


<^  Ant.  Iii 
11.  3 


'  TliL'y  were  not  allowed  to  hold  inter- 
course with  persons  under  other  detile- 
ment  than  leprosy,  Pes.  67  a. 

''  These  were  considered  as  walled  since 
the  time  of  .loshua,  Kel.  i.  7,  and  their 
sanctity  e([ual  to  thatoftiie  camp  of  Israel, 
and  iiireater  than  that  of  unwalled  towns. 

■'  Nei;.  iii.  1 :  vii.  1 ;  \i.  1 ;  xii.  1. 

■*  The  foUowiiiii;  parts  are  declared  in 
the  Mislniaii  as  untainted  )jy  lejirosy: 
within  the  eye.  ear,  nose,  and  mouth; 
the  folds  of  the  skin,  especially  those  of 
the  neck;  under  the  female  breast;  the 
armpit;  the  sole  of  the  foot,  the  nails,  the 
head,  and  the  beard  (Neg.  vi.  S). 


•''  Mich<teUs  views  the  whole  question 
chiefly  from  the  standpoint  of  sanitary 
l)olice. 

'■  It  is.  though  I  think  hesitatingly, 
propounded  by  Strauss  (vol.  ii.  i)p.  nil. 
.'j7).  He  has  been  satisfactorily  answerei! 
by  Volkmar  (Marcus,  p.  110). 

■"  u.  s.  i)p.  5,3,  54. 

''  .Jesu  von  Naz.  ii.  p.  174.  This  is 
among  the  weakest  portions  of  the  book. 
Keim  must  have  strongly  felt  '  the  telling 
marks  of  the  authenticity  of  this  narra- 
tive,' when  he  w^is  driven  to  an  explana- 
tion which  makes  Jesus  'present  Him- 
self as  a  Scribe.' 


THE   LAW    OF   LEPROSY. 


493 


writing  its  own  eondenination,  one  of  the  titles  which  it  gives  to  the 
Messiah  is  '  the  Leprous, '  t  lie  King  M  essiah  being  represented  as  seated 
in  the  entrance  to  Rome,  surrounded  by,  and  relieving  all  misery  and 
disease,  in  fulfilment  of  Is.  liii.  4.'' 

\Vq  need  not  here  enumerate  the  various  symptoms,  by  Avhich  tlic 
Rabbinic  law  teaches  us  to  recognise  true  leprosy.-  Any  one  capable 
of  it  might  make  the  medical  inspection,  although  only  a  descendant 
of  Aaron  could  formally  pronounce  cleaner  unclean."  Once  declared 
leprous,  the  sufferer  was  soon  made  to  feel  the  utter  heartlessness  of 
Rabbinism.  To  banish  him  outside  walled  towns "  may  have  been  a 
necessity,  which,  perhaps,  required  to  be  enforced  by  the  threatened 
penalty  of  forty  stripes  save  one.''  Similarly,  it  might  be  a  right, 
CA^en  merciful,  provision,  that  in  the  Synagogues  lepers  were  to  be  the 
first  to  enter  and  the  last  to  leave,  and  that  they  should  occupy  a 
separate  compartment  {Mechitsah},  ten  palms  high,  and  six  feet  wide."' 
For,  from  the  symbolism  and  connection  between  the  physical  and  the 
psychical,^  the  Old  Testament,  in  its  rites  and  institutions,  laid  the 
greatest  stress  on  'clean  and 'unclean.'  To  sum  it  up  in  briefest 
compass,  and  leaving  out  of  view  leprosy  of  clothes  or  houses,* 
according  to  the  Old  Testament,  defilement  was  conveyed  only  by  the 
animal  bod}^,  and  attached  to  no  other  living  body  than  that  of  man, 
nor  could  any  other  living  body  than  that  of  man  communicate  defile- 
ment. The  Old  Testament  mentioned  eleven  principal  kinds  of  defile- 
ment. These,  as  being  capable  of  communicating  further  defilement, 
were  designated  AbhotJi  hattumeoth — '  fathers  of  defilements  ' — the 
defilement  which  they  produced  being  either  itself  an  Abh  Jiattumeah, 
or  else  a  '  Child,'  or  a  •  Child's  Child  of  defilement '  (n»sr:"i-~  i'i'i  ibi.  ibi). 
We  find  in  Scripture  thirty-two  Abhoth  hattumeoth,  as  they  are  called. 
To  this  Rabbinic  tradition  added  other  twenty-nine.  Again,  accord- 
ing to  Scripture,  these  '  fathers  of  defilements '  afi'ected  only  in  two 
degrees;  the  direct  efffect  produced  by  them  being  designated  'the 
beginning,'  or  '  the  first.'  and  that  further  propagated,  'the  second' 
degree.  But  Rabbinic  ordinances  added  a  third,  fourth,  and  even 
fifth  degree  of  defilement.^     From  this,  as  well  as  the  equally  intricate 


CHAP. 
XV 

' Sanh. 98  b 


Neg.  iil.  1 


"i  Pes.  67 


<■  Neg.  xiu. 
12 


'  See  the  passage  in  full  in  the  Appen- 
dix on  Messianic  Prophecies. 

-  These  are  detailed  in  Neg.  i.  1-4 ;  ii. 
1;  iii.  3-6;  vii.  1;  ix.  2,  3. 

■^  Undoubtedly  the  deepest  and  most 
philosophical  treatment  of  this  subject  is 
that  in  the  now  somewliat  rare,  ami  un- 
fortunately uncompleted,  work  oiMolilor. 
Philosophie  d.  Gesch.  (see  vol.  iii.  pp.  12(i 


A'C,  and  253  <tc.).  The  author  is.  how- 
ever, perhaps  too  much  imbued  with  the 
views  of  the  Kabbalah. 

*  According  to  Tos.  Neg.  vi.  no  case  of 
leprosy  of  houses  had  ever  occurred,  but 
was  only  mentioned  in  Scripture,  in  order 
to  give  occasion  to  legal  studies,  so  as  to 
procure  a  Divine  reward. 

■''  I  have  here  followed,  oi-  rather  sum- 


494 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  Neg.  xiil. 


11 


« Shabb. 

55  a 

'1  Neclar. 
41a 


■■  Ber.  33  a 


f  Ber.  5  6 


?  Ber.  5  a 


i  Bemidb. 
K.  13 

k  Tanch.  on 
Hammet- 
sora  i ;  ed. 
Lemberg 
ii.  p.  24  a 

<"  U.  8.,  2,  p. 
23  a; 

Arach. 15  0 ; 
and  In 
many  pas- 
sages 


arrangements  al)out  i)urilication,  the  Mishnic  section  about  '  clean 
and  unclean '  is  at  the  same  time  the  largest  and  most  intricate  in 
the  Rabbinic  code,  while  its  provisions  touched  and  interfered,  more 
than  any  others,  with  every  department  of  life. 

In  the  elaborate  code  of  defilements  le])rosy  was  not  only  one  of 
'the  fathers  of  uncleanness,'  but,  next  to  defilement  from  the  dead, 
stood  foremost  amongst  them.  Not  merely  actual  contact  with  the 
leper,  but  even  his  entrance  defiled  a  habitation,''  and  everything  in 
it,  to  the  beams  of  the  roof.''  But  beyond  this.  Rabbinic  harshness  or 
fear  carried  its  provisions  to  the  utmost  sequences  of  an  unbending 
logic.  It  is,  indeed,  true  that,  as  in  general  so  especially  in  this 
instance,  Rabbinism  loved  to  trace  disease  to  moral  causes.  '  No 
death  without  sin,  and  no  pain  without  transgression;'"  'the  sick 
is  not  healed,  till  all  his  sins  are  forgiven  him."^  These  are  oft- 
repeated  sayings;  but,  when  closely  examined,  they  are  not  quite  so 
spiritual  as  they  sound.  For,  first,  they  represent  a  reaction  against 
the  doctrine  of  original  sin,  in  the  sense  that  it  is  not  the  Fall  of 
man,  but  one's  actual  trangression,  to  wiiich  disease  and  death  are  to 
be  traced  according  to  the  saying:  <Not  the  serpent  kills,  l)ut  sin."=  ^ 
But  their  real  unspirituality  appears  most  clearly,  when  we  remember 
how  special  diseases  were  traced  to  particular  sins.  Thus,''  child- 
lessness and  leprosy  are  described  as  chastisements,  which  indeed 
procure  for  the  sufferer  forgiveness  of  sins,  but  cannot,  like  other 
chastisements,  be  regarded  as  the  outcome  of  love,  nor  be  received  in 
love.^  And  even  such  sentiments  in  regard  to  sufferings^  are 
immediately  followed  by  such  cynical  declarations  on  the  part  of 
Rabbis  so  afflicted,  as  that  they  loved  neither  the  chastisement,  nor  its 
reward.*"  And  in  regard  to  leprosy,  tradition  had  it  that,  as  leprosy 
attached  to  the  house,  the  dress,  or  the  person,  these  were  to  be 
regarded  as  always  heavier  strokes,  following  as  each  successive 
warning  had  been  neglected,  and  a  reference  to  this  was  seen  in 
Prov.  xix.  29.'^  Eleven  sins  are  mentioned''  which  bring  leprosy, 
among  them  pre-eminentl}-  those  of  which  the  tongue  is  the  organ.'" 


marised,  Maimonides.  It  was,  of  course, 
impossible  to  give  eveu  the  briefest  de- 
tails. 

'  The  story,  of  which  this  saying  is  the 
moral,  is  that  of  the  crushing  of  a  ser- 
])ent  by  the  great  uiiracle-iuonger  Cha- 
uina  ben  Dosa,  witliuut  his  being  hurt. 
But  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  a  double 
entendre  is  here  intended — on  the  one 
hand,  tliat  even  a  serpent  could  not  hurl 


one  like  Chanina,  and,  on  the  other,  the 
wider  Vjearing  on  the  real  cause  of  death: 
not  our  original  state,  but  our  actual  sin. 

-  The  Midrash  enumerates  four  as  in 
that  category:  the  poor,  the  blind,  the 
cliildh'ss,  and  the  leprous. 

■■  Fron)  Zech.  xiv.  12  it  was  inferred, 
that  this  leprosy  would  smite  the  Gen- 
tiles even  in  the  Messianic  age  (Tau- 
chuma.  Tazria.  end). 


•IF    THOU    Wll/r,    THOU    CAN^T    MAKE    ME    CLEAN.'  495 

Still,  if  such  had  been  the  real  views  of  Rabbiiiism  one  iiiiglit  have     CHAP, 
expected  that  Divine  compassion  would  have  been  extended  to  those,        XV 
who  bore  such  heavy  burden  of  their  sins.      Instead  of  this,  their  bur-  ^— ^^^^^ 
dens  were  needlessl}^  increased.     True,  as  wrapped  in  mourner's  ^'arb 
the  leper  passed  by,  his  cry  '  Unclean! '  was  to  incite  others  to  pray 
for  him— but  also  to  avoid  him."    No  one  was  even  to  salute  him;  his  "MoedK. 

5  a 

bed  was  to  be  low,  inclining  towards  the  ground.''     If  he  even  put  bu. s.  15^ 

ids  head  into  a  place,  it  became  unclean.     No  less  a  distance  than 

four  cubits  (six  feet)  must  be  kept  from  a  leper;  or,  if  the  wind  came 

from  that  direction,  a  hundred  were  scarcely  sufficient.     Rabbi  Meir 

would  not  eat  an  egg  purc^hased  in  a  street  where  there  was  a  leper. 

Another  Rabbi  boasted,  that  he  always  threw  stones  at  them  to  keep 

them  far  ofl",  while  others  hid  themselves  or  ran  away."^     To  such  "Vayyik.K. 

.  .         .  .  .  .  1^-    [Lep- 

extent  did  Rabbinism  carry  its  inhuman  logic  in   considering   the  rosy  is 

•'  .  there 

leper  as  a  mourner,  that  it  even  forbade  him  to  wash  his  face.'^  brought 

'■  '  into  con- 

We  can  now  in  some  measure  appreciate  the  contrast  between  nsction 

'^  ^        _  with  cal- 

Jesus  and  His  contemporaries  in  His  bearing  towards  the  leper.  Or,  umny] 
conversely,  we  can  judge  by  the  healing  of  this  leper  of  the  impression  15  a°^' ' 
which  the  Saviour  had  made  upon  the  people.  He  would  have  lied 
from  a  Rabbi;  he  came  in  lowliest  attitude  of  entreaty  to  Jesus. 
Criticism  need  not  so  anxiously  seek  for  an  explanation  of  his 
approach.  There  was  no  Old  Testament  precedent  for  it:  not  in  the 
case  of  Moses,  nor  even  in  that  of  Elisha,  and  there  was  no  Jewish 
expectancy  of  it.  But  to  have  heard  Him  teach,  to  have  seen  or 
known  Him  as  healing  all  manner  of  disease,  must  have  carried  to 
the  heart  the  conviction  of  His  absolute  power.  And  so  one  can 
understand  this  lowly  reverence  of  approach,  this  cry  which  has  so 
often  since  been  wrung  from  those  who  have  despaired  of  all  other 
help:  '  If  Thou  wilt.  Thou  canst  make  me  clean.'  It  is  not  a  i)rayer, 
but  the  ground-tone  of  all  prayer — faith  in  His  Power,  and  absolute 
committal  to  Him  of  our  helpless,  hopeless  need.  And  Jesus,  touched 
with  compassion,  willed  it.  It  almost  seems,  as  if  it  were  in  the  very 
exuberance  of  power  that  Jesus,  acting  in  so  direct  contravention  of 
Jewish  usage,  touched  the  leper.  It  was  fitting  that  Elisha  should 
disappoint  Naaman's  expectancy,  that  the  prophet  would  heal  his 
leprosy  by  the  touch  ofhis  hand.  It  was  even  more  lifting  that 
Jesus  should  surprise  the  Jewish  leper   by  touching,   ere   by   His 

'  And  yet  Jewish   symbolism  saw  in  the  healing  of  that  disease  and  the  provi- 

the  suflerings  of  Israel  and  the  destruc-  sions   for  declaring  the   leper  clean,    a 

tiou  of  the  Temple  the  real  fulfilment  of  close  analogy  to  what  would  liapi)en  in 

the  punishment  of  leprosy  with  its  atten-  Israel's  restoration  (Vayyikra  R.  15,  17; 

dant  ordinances,  while  it  also  traced  in  Yalkut  i.  par.  551,  563). 


496  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  Word  He  cleansed  him.  And  so,  experience  ever  finds  that  in 
ni  Christ  tlie  real  is  far  beyond  tlie  ideal.  We  can  understand,  how, 
^— 'v — '  from  his  standpoint,  Strauss  should  have  found  it  impossible  to  un- 
derstand the  healing  of  leprosy  by  the  touch  and  Word  of  Jesus.  Its 
explanation  lies  in  the  fact,  that  He  was  the  God-Man.  And  yet,  as 
our  inner  tending  after  God  and  the  voice  of  conscience  indicate  that 
man  is  capable  of  adoption  into  God's  family,  so  the  marked  power 
which  in  disease  mind  has  over  body  points  to  a  higher  capability 
in  Man  Perfect,  the  Ideal  Man,  the  God-Man,  of  vanquishing  disease 
by  His  Will. 

It  is  not  quite  so  easy  at  first  sight  to  understand,  why  Christ 
should  with  such  intense  earnestness,  almost  vehemence,'  have  sent 
the  healed  man  away — as  the  term  bears,  '  cast  him  out.'  ^  Certainly 
not  (as  Volkmar — fantastically  in  error  on  this,  as  on  so  many  other 
points — imagines)  because  He  disapproved  of  his  worship.  Rather 
do  we  once  more  gather,  how  the  God-Man  shrank  fr(mi  the  fame 
connected  with  miracles — specially  with  such  an  one — which  as  we 
have  seen,  were  rather  of  inward  and  outward  necessity  than  of  choice 
in  His  Mission.  Not  so — followed  l)y  a  curious  crowd,  or  thronged 
by  eager  multitudes  of  sight-seers,  or  aspirants  for  temporal  benefits — 
was  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  to  be  preached  and  advanced.  It  would 
have  been  the  way  of  a  Jewish  Messiah,  and  have  led  up  to  His 
royal  proclamation  by  the  populace.  But  as  we  study  the  character 
of  the  Christ,  no  contrast  seems  more  glaring — let  us  add,  more 
painful — than  that  of  such  a  scene.  And  so  we  read  that,  when, 
notwithstanding  the  Saviour's  charge  to  the  healed  leper  to  keep 
silence,  it  was  nevertheless — nay,  as  might  perhaps  have  been  expected 
— all  the  more  made  known  by  him — as,  indeed,  in  some  measure  it 
could  scarcely  have  remained  entirely  unknown.  He  could  no  more, 
as  before,  enter  the  cities,  but  remained  without  in  desert  places, 
whither  they  came  to  Him  from  every  quarter.  And  in  that  withdrawal 
He  spoke,  and  healed,  '  and  prayed.' 

Yet  another  motive  of  Christ's  conduct  may  be  suggested.  His 
injunction  of  silence  was  combined  with  that  of  presenting  himself 
to    the  priest  and  conforming   to   the   ritual   requirements   of  the 

'  On  this  term  see  the  first  note  in  this  strange    that  the    '  Speaker's  Commen- 

chapter.  tary,'   following  Weiss,  should  have  lo- 

2  This,  however,  as  Godet  has  shown  cated  the  incident  in  a  Synagogue.     It 

(Comm.  ou  St.  Luke,  German  transl.,  p.  could  not  jiossibly  have  occurred  there, 

137),  does  not  imply  that  the  event  took  unless  all   .Jewish  ordinances  and  cus- 

place  either  in  a  house  or  in  a  town,  as  toms  had  been  reversed, 
most     commentators     suppose.      It    is 


SHOW    THYSELF   TO   THE   PRIEST    FOR   A   TESTIMOMY.'  497 

Mosaic  Law  in  such  cases.'     It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  reiutc  tlie     chap. 
notion,  that  in  this  Christ  was  prompted  either  by  the  desire  to  sec        xv 
the  healed  man  restored  to  the  society  of  his  fellows,  or  by  the  wish  ^— ^r — ^ 
to  have  some  oilicially  recognised  miracle,  to  which  He  might  after- 
wards aiDpeal.     Not  to  speak  of  the  uu-Christlikeness  of  such  a  wish 
or  purpose,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  He  did  not  appeal  to  it,   and  the 
iusaled  leper  wliolly  disappears  from  the   Gospel-narrative.     And  yet 
his  conforming  to  the  Mosaic  Ritual  was  to  be   '  a  testimony  unto 
them.'     The  Lord,  certainly,  did  not  wish  to  have  the  Law  of  Moses 
broken — and  broken,  not  superseded,  it  would  have  been,  if  its  pro- 
visions had  been  infringed  before  His  Death,  Ascension,    and    the 
Coming  of  the  Holy  Ghost  had  brought  their  fulfilment. 

But  there  is  something  else  here.  The  course  of  this  history  shows, 
that  the  open  rupture  between  Jesus  and  the  Jewish  authorities,  which 
had  commenced  at  the  Unknown  Feast  at  Jerusalem,  was  to  lead  to 
practical  sequences.  On  the  part  of  the  Jewish  authorities,  it  led 
to  measures  of  active  hostility.  The  Synagogues  of  Galilee  are 
no  longer  the  quiet  scenes  of  His  teaching  and  miracles;  His  Word 
and  deeds  no  longer  pass  unchallenged.  It  had  never  occurred  to 
these  Galileans,  as  they  implicitly  surrendered  themselves  to  the 
power  of  His  words,  to  question  their  orthodoxy.  But  now,  imme- 
diately after  this  occurrence,  we  find  Him  accused  of  blasphem}.*  ast.  Luke 
They  had  not  thought  it  breach  of  God's  Law  when,  on  that  Sabbath, 
He  had  healed  in  the  Synagogue  of  Capernaum  and  in  the  home  of 
Peter;  but  after  this  it  became  sinful  to  extend  like  mercy  on  the 
Sabbath  to  him  whose  hand  was  withered.''    They  had  never  thouglit  "st.  Luke 

'"  vi   7 

of  questioning  the  condescension  of  his  intercourse  with  the  poor  and 

needy;  but  now  they  sought  to  sap  the  commencing  allegiance  of 

His  disciples  by  charging  Him  with  undue  intercourse  with  publicans 

and  sinners,"  and  by  inciting  against  Him  even  the  prejudices  and  ^st.  Luke 

doubts  of  the  half-enlightened  followers  of  His  own  Forerunner.''     All 

these  new  incidents  are  due  to  one  and  the  same  cause;  the  presence 

and  hostile  watchfulness  of  the  Scribes  and  Pharisees,  who  now  for 

the  first  time  apjiear  on  the  scene  of  His  ministry.     Is  it  too  much 

then  to  infer,  that,  immediately  after  that  Feast  at  Jerusalem,  the 

'  The  Rabbinic  ordinances  as  to  the  rit-  ing  .described  in  Miqv.  i.    1-8).     From 

iial  in  such  cases  are  in  Neg.  xiv.   See  '  The  Parah  vlii.    10  we  gather,   that   among 

Temple  and  its  Services  '  pp.  315-317.  other  rivers  even   tlie  Jordan  was  not 

Special  attention  was  to  be  given,  that  deemed  sufficiently  pure,  because  in  its 

the  water  with  which  the  puritied  leper  course   other  streams,   which  were   not 

was  sprinkled  was  from  a  pure,  flowing  lawful  for  such  purification,  had  mingled 

spring  (six  different  collections  of  water,  witli  it. 
suited  to  dirterent  kinds  of  impurity,  bo- 


•1  St.  Luke 
V.  33 


498  -  FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

HOOK  Jewish  authorities  sent  their  familiars  into  Galilee  after  Jesus,  and 
ni  that  it  was  to  the  presence  and  influence  of  this  informal  deputation 
^— "V"—^  that  the  opposition  to  Christ,  which  now  increasingly  appeared,  was 
due?  If  so,  then  we  see  not  only  an  additional  motive  for  Christ's 
injunction  of  silence  on  those  whom  He  had  healed,  and  for  His 
own  withdrawal  from  the  cities  and  their  throng,  but  we  can  under- 
stand how,  as  He  afterwards  answered  those,  whom  John  had  sent 
to  lay  before  Christ  his  doubts,  by  pointing  to  His  works,  so  He 
replied  to  the  sending  forth  of  the  Scribes  of  Jerusalem  to  watch, 
oppose,  and  arrest  Him,  by  sending  to  Jerusalem  as  His  embassy  the 
healed  leper,  to  submit  to  all  the  requirements  of  the  Law.  It 
was  His  testimony  unto  them — His,  Who  was  meek  and  lowly  in 
heart;  and  it  was  in  deepest  accord  with  what  He  had  done,  and  was 
doing.  Assuredly,  He,  Who  brake  not  the  bruised  reed,  did  not  cry 
nor  lift  up  His  Voice  in  the  streets,  but  brought  forth  judgment  unto 
truth.     And  in  Him  shall  the  nations  trust! 


CONCERNING   THE   FORGIVENESS  OF  SINS.  499 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  RETURN  TO  CAPERNAUM — CONCERNING  THE  FORGIVENESS  OF  SINS- 
THE  HEALING  OF  THE  PARALYSED. 

(St.  Matt.  ix.  1-8;  St.  Mark  ii.  1-12;  St.  Luke  v.  17-26.) 

It  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  the  reserve  of  the  Gospel-narratives,      CHAP, 
that  of  the  second  journey  of  Jesus  in  Galilee  no  other  special  event       ^^^^ 
is  recorded  than  the  healing  of  the  leper.     And  it  seems  also  to  in-  ^— -y-'^ 
dicate,  that  this  one  miracle  had  been  so  selected  for  a  special  purpose. 
But  if,  as  we  have  suggested,  after  the  '  Unknown  Feast,'  the  activity 
of  Jesus  assumed  a  new  and  what,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  may  be 
called  an  anti-Judaic  character,  we  can  perceive  the  reason  of  it. 
The  healing  of  leprosy  was  recorded  as  typical.     With  this  agrees 
also  what   immediately  follows.     For,   as  Rabbinisin  stood  confess- 
edly powerless  in  face  of  the  living  death  of  leprosy,  so  it  had  no 
word  of  forgiveness  to  speak  to  the  conscience  burdened  with  sin,  nor 
yet  word  of  welcome  to  the  sinner.     But  this  was  the  inmost  meaning 
of  the  two  events  which  the  Gospel-history  places  next  to  the  healing 
of  the  leper:   the  forgiveness  of  sins  in  the  case  of  the  paralytic,  and 
the  welcome  to  the  chief  of  sinners  in  the  call  of  Levi-Matthew. 

We  are  still  mainly  following  the  lead  of  St.  Mark,^  alike  as 
regards  the  succession  of  events  and  their  details.  And  here  it  is 
noteworthy,  how  the  accoimt  in  St.  Mark  confirms  that  by  St.  John  ''  of  »st.  .John^. 
what  had  occurred  at  tlie  Unknown  Feast.  Not  that  either  Evan- 
gelist could  have  derived  it  from  the  other.  But  if  we  establish  the 
trustworthiness  of  the  narrative  in  St.  John  v.,  which  is  unconfirmed 
by  any  of  the  Synoptists,  we  strengthen  not  only  the  evidence  in 
favour  of  the  Fourth  Gospel  generally,  but  that  in  one  of  its  points  of 
chief  difficulty,  since  such  advanced  teaching  on  the  part  of  Jesus, 
and  such  developed  hostility  from  the  Jewish  authorities,  might 
scarcely  have  been  looked  for  at  so  early  a  stage.     But  when  we  com- 

'  The  same  order  is  followed  by  St.  look  for  the  fullest  account  of  that  earl\ 
Luke.  From  the  connection  between  St.  Capernaum-Ministry  in  the  Second  Go.>- 
Mark  and  St.  Peter,  we  should  naturally      pel. 


500 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  St.  Mark 
i.  C,  7 


•>  St.  John 
V.  27 


"  St.  Mark 
11.  9 

<i  In  St. 
John  V.  8 


» St.  John  V. 
36;  com  p. 
St.  Mark 
11.  10 


pare  the  language  ot'8t.  Mark  with  tlie  narrative  in  tlie  fifth  chapter 
of  St,  John's  Gospel,  at  least  four  points  of  contact  i)roininently  appear. 
For,  first,  the  unspoken  charge  of  the  Scribes,"  that  in  forgiving  sins 
Jesus  l)lasphemed  by  making  Himself  equal  with  God,  has  its  exact 
counterpart  in  the  similar  charge  against  Him  in  St.  John  v.  18, 
which  kindled  in  them  the  wish  to  kill  Jesus.  Secondly,  as  'in  that 
case  the  final  reply  of  Jesus  pointed  to  'the  authority'  {e^ovaia) 
which  the  Father  had  given  Him  for  Divine  administration  on  earth,  '' 
so  the  healing  of  the  paralytic  was  to  show  the  Scribes  tliat  He  had 
'authority'  (f^oi'fx/a')  Mbr  the  dispensation  upon  earth  of  the  for- 
giveness of  sins,  which  the  Jews  rightly  regarded  as  the  Divine 
prerogative.  Thirdly,  the  words  which  Jesus  spake  to  the  paralytic: 
'  Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk, ' "  are  to  the  very  letter  the  same  ^ 
which  are  recorded ''  as  used  by  Him  when  He  healed  the  impotent 
man  at  the  Pool  of  Bethesda.  Lastly,  alike  in  the  words  which 
Jesus  addressed  to  the  Scribes  at  the  healing  of  the  paralytic,  and  in 
those  at  the  Unknown  Feast,  He  made  final  appeal  to  His  works 
as  evidential  of  His  being  sent  by,  and  having  received  of,  the  Father- 
'the  authority'  to  which  He  laid  claim. '^  It  would  be  utterly 
iri-ational  to  regard  these  as  coincidences,  and  not  references.  And 
their  evidential  force  becomes  the  stronger,  as  we  remember  the 
entire  absence  of  design  on  the  part  of  St.  Mark.^  But  this  corre- 
spondence not  only  supports  the  trustworthiness  of  the  two  indepen 
dent  narratives  in  St.  Mark  and  in  St.  John,  but  also  confirms  alike 
that  historical  order  in  which  we  have  arranged  the  events,  and  the 
suggestion  that,  after  the  encounter  at  the  UnknowMi  Feast,  the 
authorities  of  Jerusalem  had  sent  representatives  to  watch,  oppose, 
and,  if  possible,  entrap  Jesus. 

In  another  manner,   also,  the  succession  of  events,  as  we  have 
traced    it,    seems    confirmed  by  the'  account  of  the  healing  of  the 


'  The  A.  V.  mars  the  ineaiiiiii;"  by  ren- 
dering it:  '  power.' 

■■^  So  accordiiis'  to  the  best  readinais. 

^  It  is,  of  course,  not  pretended  by 
negative  critics  that  the  Fonrtli  Gospel 
borrowed  from  St.  Mark.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  supposed  differences  in  form 
and  spirit  between  the  Synoptists  and 
tlie  Fourth  Gospel  form  one  of  the  main 
arguments  against  tiie  authenticity  of 
the  latter.  In  regard  to  the  5th  chap, 
of  St.  John,  Di'.  Abbott  writes  (Art. 
'  Gospels,'  Encycl.  Brit.  p.  833  b):  ' That 
part  of  the  discourse  in  which  Christ 
describes  Himself  in  the  presence  of  the 
multitude  as  having  received  all  power 


to  Judge  and  to  quicken  the  dead,  does  not 
resemble  anything  in  the  Synoptic  narra- 
tive'—except  St.  Matt.  xi."27;  St.  Luk(> 
X.  22,  and  'that  was  uttered  privately  to 
the  disciples.'  To  complete  the  irony  of 
criticism.  Dr.  Abbott  contrasts  the  '  faith 
of  the  Synoptists,'  such  as  'that  half- 
])hysical  thrill  of  trust  in  the  presence  of 
Jesus,  which  enables  the  limbs  of  a 
paralysed  man  to  make  the  due  jjhysical 
response  to  the  emotional  shock  con- 
sequent on  the  word  "  Ai-ise,"  so  that  in 
the  strength  of  that  shock  the  ])aralytic 
is  enabled  to  shake  off  the  disease  of 
many  years,'  with  faith  such  as  the 
Fourth  Gospel  presents  it. 


CHRIST   AGAIN    IN   CAPERNAUM. 


501 


paralytic.     The  soooiul  jounioy  of  Jesus  throii^-li  Galilee  Imd  com-     CIIAP. 
menced  in  autuiiiu  ;    the    return    to    Capernaum  was    'alter   days,'        ^^'^ 

which,    in   coniiuon   Jewish   pliraseology,'  meant   a  considerable  in-  ^^.^ , 

terval.  As  we  reckon,  it  was  winter,  which  would  equally  account  for 
Ciirist's  return  to  Capernaum,  and  for  His  teaching-  in  the  house. 
For,  no  sooner  'was  it  heard  that  lie  was  in  the  house,'  or,  as  some 
have  rendered  it,  'that  He  was.  at  home,'  than  so  many  flocked  to 
the  dwellinjj;  of  Peter,  which  at  that  period  may  have  been  '  the  house  ' 
or  temporary  '  home  '  of  the  Saviour,  as  to  fill  its  limited  space  to  over- 
flowing, and  even  to  crowd  out  to  the  door  and  l)eyoiid  it.  The 
general  impression  on  our  minds  is,  that  this  audience  was  rather  in 
a  state  of  indecision  than  of  sympathy  Avith  Jesus.  It  included 
'  Pharisees  and  doctors  of  the  Law,'  who  had  come  on  purpose  from 
the  towns  of  Galilee,  from  Judaea,  and  from  Jerusalem.  These 
occupied  the  'uppermost  rooms,' sitting,  no  doulit,  near  to  Jesus. 
Their  influence  must  have  been  felt  by  the  people.  Although 
irresistibly  attracted  by  Jesus,  an  element  of  curiosity,  if  not  of 
doubt,  would  mingle  with  their  feelings,  as  they  looked  at  their 
leaders,  to  whom  long  habit  attached  the  most  superstitious  veneration. 
If  one  might  so  say,  it  was  like  the  gathering  of  Israel  on  Mount 
Carmel,  to  witness  the  issue  as  between  Elijah  and  the  priests  of  Baal. 
Although  in  no  wise  necessary  to  the  understanding  of  the  event, 
it  is  helpful  to  try  and  realise  the  scene;  We  can  picture,  to  ourselves 
the  Saviour  '  speaking  the  Word  '  to  that  eager,  interested  crowd, 
Avhich  would  soon  ])ecome  forgetful  even  of  tlie  presence  of"  the 
watchful  '  Scribes. '  Though  we  know  a  good  deal  of  tlie  structure 
of  Jewish  houses,^  we  feel  it  difficult  to  be  sure  of  the  exact  place 
which  the  Saviour  occupied  on  this  occasion.  Meetings  for  religious 
study  and  discussion  were  certainly  held  in  the  AliyaJi  or  upper 
chamber."  But,  on  many  grounds,  such  a  locale  seems  utterly  un-  ^shabb.  i. 
suited   to  the  requirements   of  the   narrative.^     Similar   objections  skini.'aifc, 

Jfki.     Peg      30 

attach  to  the  idea,  that  it  was  the   front  room  of  one  of  those  low  (-.and often 
houses  occupied  by  the  poor.*     Nor  is  there  any  reason  for  supposing 
that  the  house  occupied  by  Peter  was  one  of  those  low  buildings, 

'  D''?2*'T'.     See  Wetufei)!  in  loc.  of  such  a  house,  and  if  so,   how  ditl  tlie 
^  'Sketches  of  Jewish  life,'  pp.  93-96.  multitude  see  and  hear  Him?    Nor  can 
^  Such  a  crowd  could  scarcely  have  I  see  any  reason  for  represent inji"  Peter 
assembled  there — and  where  were  those  as  so  poor.     Professor  Drh'fcsc/i's  con- 
about  and  beyond  the  door  ?  ception  of  the  scene  (in  his  '  Ein  Ta.o;  in 
•*  This  is  the  sun;2;estion  of  Dr.  Thnmfinyi  Capern,')  seems  to  me,  so  far  as  I  follow 
{'Th,e  Land  and  tiie  Book,' pp.  358,  359).  it,    though    exceediucly    beautiful,    too 
But  even  he  sees  difiicnlties  in  it.     ]5e-  ima,<i'inative. 
sides,  was  Christ  inside  the  small  room 


502 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


' Baba  B. 
ri.  4 


»>  In  Jer. 
Keth  iv.  14, 
p.  29  fc 


■;  Tos.  B. 
Mets.  c.  iv. 
2 

^  u.  s.,  c. 
viii.  31,  ed. 
Z. 

■■  Baba 
Mets.  V.  2 


which  formed  the  dwellings  of  the  very  poor.  It  must,  at  any  rate, 
have  contained,  besides  a  large  family  room,  accommodation  for 
Peter  and  his  wife,  for  Peter's  mother-in-law,  and  for  Jesus  as  the 
honoured  guest.  The  Mislinah  calls  a  small  house  one  that  is 
9  feet  long  by  12  l)road,  and  a  large  house  one  that  is  12  feet 
long  by  15  broad,  and  adds  that  a  dining-hall  is  15  feet  square,  the 
height  being  always  computed  at  half  the  length  and  breadth."  But 
these  notices  seem  rather  to  apply  to  a  single  room.  They  are  part 
of  a  legal  discussion,  in  which  reference  is  made  to  a  building  which 
might  be  erected  by  a  man  for  his  son  on  his  marriage,  or  as  a 
dwelling  for  his  widowed  daughter.  Another  source  of  information  is 
derived  from  what  we  know  of  the  price  and  rental  of  houses.  We 
read"  of  a  house  as  costing  ten  (of  course,  gold)  dinars,  which 
would  make  the  price  250  silver  dinars,  or  between  11.  and  8^.  of  our 
money.  This  must,  however,  have  been  'a  small  house,' since  the 
rental  of  such  is  stated  to  have  been  from  T.s.  to  2Hs.  a  year,''  while 
that  of  a  large  house  is  computed  at  about  9/.  a  year,"*  and  that  of  a 
courtj^ard  at  about  14.s.  a  year." 

All  this  is  so  far  of  present  interest  as  it  will  help  to  show,  that 
the  house  of  Peter  could  not  have  been  a  '  small  one. '  We  regard  it 
as  one  of  the  better  dwellings  of  the  middle  classes.  In  that  case 
all  the  circumstances  fully  accord  with  the  narrative  in  the  Gospels. 
Jesus  is  speaking  the  Word,  standing  in  the  covered  gallery  that  ran 
round  the  courtyard  of  such  houses,  and  opened  into  the  various 
apartments.  Perhaps  He  was  standing  within  the  entrance  of  the 
guest-chamber,  while  the  Scribes  were  sitting  within  that  apartment, 
or  beside  Him  in  the  gallery.  The  court  before  Him  is  thronged,  out 
into  the  street.  All  are  absorbedly  listening  to  the  Master,  when  of 
a  sudden  those  appear  who  are  bearing  a  paralytic  on  his  pallet.  It 
had  of  late  become  too  common  a  scene  to  see  the  sick  thus  carried 
to  Jesus  to  attract  special  attention.  And  yet  one  can  scarcely 
conceive  that,  if  the  crowd  had  merely  filled  an  apartment  and 
gathered  around  its  door,  it  would  not  have  made  way  for  the  sick,  or 
that  somehow  the  bearers  could  not  have  come  within  sight,  or  been 
able  to  attract  the  attention  of  Christ.  But  with  a  courtyard  crowded 
out  into  the  street,  all  this  would  be,  of  course,  out  of  the  question. 
In  such  circumstances,  what  was  to  be  done  ?  Access  to  Jesus  was 
simply  impossible.  Shall  they  wait  till  the  multitude  disperses,  or 
for  another  and  more  convenient  season  ?  Only  those  would  have 
acted  thus  who  have  never  felt  the  preciousness  of  an  opportunity, 
because   thev  have   never   known   what   real    need   is.     Inmost   in 


88  a 


THE   PARALYTIC    LET    DOWN   THROUGH    TJIE    ROOK  503 

the  hearts  of  those  who  bore  the  paralysed  was  the  belief,  that  Jesus     chap. 
coiikl,  aiul  that  he  wouhl,  heal.    They  must  have  heard  it  from  others;       xvi 
tliey  must  have  witnessed  it  themselves  in  other  instances.     And  in-  ^-^^r — ' 
most  in  the  heart  of  the  paralytic  was,  as  we  infer  IVom  the  first  words 
of  Jesus  to  him,  not  only  the  same  conviction,  but  with  it  weighed 
a  terrible  fear,  born  of  Jewish  belief,  lest  his  sins  might  hinder  his 
healing.     And  this  would  make  him  doubly  anxious  not  to  lose  the 
present  oi)portunity. 

And  so  their  resolve  was  quickly  taken.  If  they  c.mnot  approach 
Jesus  with  their  burden,  they  can  let  it  down  from  above  at  His  feet. 
Outside  the  house,  as  well  as  inside,  a  stair  led  n\)  to  the  roof.  They 
may  have  ascended  it  in  this  wise,  or  else  reached  it  by  what  the 
Rabbis  called  '  the  road  of  tlie  roofs,' "  passing  from  I'oof  to  rool"  if  the  » Jos.  Ant. 

'        ^  "  .  .  xUi.  5.  3; 

house  adjoined  others  in  the  same  street.  The  root  itself,  which  had  Bab.  Mez 
hard  beaten  earth  or  rul)ble  underneath  it,  was  paved  withlu'ick,  stone, 
or  any  other  hard  substance,  and  surrounded  l)y  a  balustrade  which, 
according  to  Jewish  Law,  was  at  least  three  feet  high.  It  is  scarcely 
possible  to  imagine,  that  the  bearers  of  the  paralytic  would  have 
attempted  to  dig  through  this  into  a  room  below,  not  to  speak  of  the 
interrujition  and  inconvenience  caused  to  those  below  by  such  an 
operation.  But  no  such  objection  attaches  if  we  regard  it,  not  as  the 
main  roof  of  the  liouse,  but  as  that  of  the  covereil  gallery  under  wiiich 
we  are  supposing  the  Lord  to  have  stood.  This  could,  of  course,  have 
been  readily  reached  from  above.  In  such  case  it  would  have  been 
comparatively  easy  to  'unroof  the  covering  of  'tiles,'  and  then, 
'  having  dug  out "  an  opening  through  the  lighter  framework  which 
supported  the  tiles,  to  let  down  their  burden  '  into  the  midst  before 
Jesus.'  All  this,  as  done  by  four  strong  men,  would  l)e  but  tlie  work 
of  a  few  minutes.  But  we  can  imagine  the  arresting  of  the  discourse 
of  Jesus,  and  the  breathless  surprise  of  the  crowd  as  this  opening- 
through  the  tiles  appeared,  and  slowly  a  pallet  was  let  down  before 
them.  Busy  hands  would  help  to  steady  it,  and  bring  it  safe  to  the 
ground.  And  on  that  i)allet  lay  one  paralysed — his  fevered  face  and 
glistening  eyes  u])turned  to  Jesus. 

It  must  have  been  a  marvellous  sight,  even  at  a  time  and  in 
circumstances  when  the  marvellous  might  be  said  to  have  become  of 
every-day  occurrence.  Tliis  energy  and  determination  of  faith  ex- 
ceeded aught  that  had  been  witnessed  before.  Jesus  saw  it,  and  He 
spake.  For,  as  yet,  the  blanched  lips  of  the  sutferer  had  not  parted 
to  utter  his  petition.  He  believed,  indeed,  in  the  power  of  Jesus  to 
heal,  with  all  the  certitude  that  issued,  not  only  in  the  detc^riniua- 


504 


FROM    JORDAN    TO   TJIE   iMOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 

in 


'  St.  Matt. 
ix.  2 


tioii  to  be  laid  at  His  ieet,  l)ut  at  whatever  trouble  and  in  any  cii-- 
ciiinstances,  however  novel  or  strange.  It  needed,  indited,  faith  to 
overcome  all  the  hindrances  in  the  present  instance;  and  still  more 
faith  to  be  so  absorbed  and  forgetful  of  all  around,  as  to  be  let  down 
from  the  roof  through  the  broken  tiling  into  the  midst  of  such  an 
assemloly.  And  this  open  outburst  of  laitli  shone  out  the  more 
brightly,  from  its  contrast  with  the  covered  darkness  and  clouds  of 
unbelief  within  the  breast  of  those  Scribes,  who  had  come  to  watch 
and  ensnare  Jesus. 

As  yet  no  one  had  spoken,  for  the  silence  of  expectancy  had  fallen. 
on  them  all.  Could  He,  and,  if  He  could,  ivould  He  help — and  what 
would  He  do?  But  He,  Who  perceived  man's  unspoken  thoughts, 
knew  that  there  was  not  only  faith,  but  also  fear,  in  the  heart  of  that 
man.  Hence  the  first  words  which  the  Saviour  spake  to  him  were: 
'Be  of  good  cheer.' "  He  had,  indeed,  got  beyond  the  coarse  Judaic 
standpoint,  from  which  sutfering  seemed  an  expiation  of  sin.  It 
was  argued  by  the  Rabbis,  that,  if  the  loss  of  an  eye  or  a  tooth 
liberated  a  slave  from  bondage,  much  more  would  the  sufferings  of  the 
whole  body  free  the  soul  from  guilt;  and,  again,  that  Scripture  itself 
indicated  this  by  the  use  of  the  word  '  covenant, '  alike  in  connection 
Lev.  ii.  13  with  the  salt  which  rendered  the  sacrifices  meet  for  the  altar,''  and 
suflerings,"  which  did  the  like  for  the  soul  by  cleansing  away  sin.** 
We  can  readily  believe,  as  the  recorded  experience  of  the  Rabbis 
shows,  "^  that  such  sayings  brought  neither  relief  to  the  body,  nor 
comfort  to  the  soul  of  real  sufierers.  But  this  other  Jewish  idea  was 
even  more  deeply  rooted,  had  more  of  underlying  truth,  and  would, 
especially  in  presence  of  the  felt  holiness  of  Jesus,  have  a  deep  in- 
fiuence  on  the  soul,  that  recovery  would  not  be  granted  to  the  sick 
fNedar.4ia  uulcss  liis  sius  had  first  been  forgiven  him.*^  It  was  this  deepest, 
though,  perhaps,  as  yet  only  partially  conscious,  want  of  the  sufferer 
before  Him,  which  Jesus  met  when,  in  words  of  tenderest  kindness. 
He  spoke  forgiveness  to  his  soul,  and  that  not  as  something  to  come, 
but  as  an  act  already  past:  'Child,  thy  sins  have  been  forgiven.'^ 
We  should  almost  say,  that  He  needed  first  to  speak  these  words, 
before  He  gave  healing:  needed,  in  the  psychological  order  of  things; 
needed,  also,  if  the  inward  sickness  was  to  be  healed,  and  because  the 
inward  stroke,  or  paralysis,  in  the  consciousness  of  guilt,  must  be 
removed,  before  the  outward  could  be  taken  away. 


'  Deut. 
xxviii.  69  b 

<■  Ber.  5  a 

'  Ber.  5  6 


1  In  our  A.V.  it  16  eiToneoiUjly  Deut.      of  MSS.,  which  have  the  verbia  the  per- 
xxix.  1.  feet  tense. 

*  So*  accordiuK  to  tlie  i^reater  numfjer 


'WHY    DOES   THIS   ONE   SPEAK   THUS?   HE    BLASI'HEMETH  !  >  505 

In  another  sense,  also,  there  was  a  higher  ^leed  ])e'  for  the  word  chap. 
which  brought  forgiveness,  before  tliat  which  gave  healing.  Although  XVI 
it  is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  supposed,  that,  in  what  Jesus  did,  He  had  "-^ — < — -' 
primary  intention  in  regard  to  the  Scribes,  3'et  here  also,  as  in  all 
Divine  acts,  the  undesigned  adaptation  and  the  undesigned  sequences 
are  as  fitting  as  what  we  call  the  designed.  For,  with  God  there  is 
neither  past  nor  future;  neither  immediate  nor  mediate;  l)ut  all  is 
one,  the  eternally  and  God-pervaded  Present.  Let  us  recall,  that 
Jesus  was  in  the  presence  of  those  in  whom  the  Scribes  would  feign 
have  wrought  disbelief,  not  of  His  power  to  cure  disease — which  was 
patent  to  all — but  in  His  Person  and  authority;  that,  [)crhai)s,  such 
doubts  had  already  been  excited.  And  here  it  deserves  special  notice, 
that,  by  first  speaking  forgiveness,  Christ  not  only  presented  the 
deeper  moral  aspect  of  His  miracles,  as  against  their  ascription  to 
magic  or  Satanic  agenc}',  but  also  established  that  very  claim,  as 
regarded  His  Person  and  authority,  which  it  was  sought  to  invalidate. 
In  this  forgiveness  of  sins  He  presented  His  Person  and  authority  as 
Divine,  and  He  proved  it  such  by  the  miracle  of  healing  whi'ih  im- 
mediately followed.  Had  the  two  been  inverted,  there  would  have 
been  evidence,  indeed,  of  His  power,  but  not  of  His  Divine  Person- 
ality, nor  of  His  having  authority  to  forgive  sins;  and  this,  not  the 
doing  of  miracles,  was  the  object  of  His  Teaching  and  Mission,  of 
which  the  miracles  were  only  secondary  evidence. 

Thus  the  inward  reasoning  of  the  Scribes,^  which  was  open  and 
known  to  Him  Who  readeth  all  thoughts,^  issued  in  quite  the  oppo- 
site of  Avhat  they  could  have  expected.  Most  unwarranted,  indeed, 
was  the  feeling  of  contempt  which  we  trace  in  their  unspoken  words, 
whether  we  read  them:  'Why  doth  this  one  thus  speak  blasphemies?' 
or,  according  to  a  more  correct  transcript  of  them:  'Why  doth  this 
one  speak  thus?  He  blasphemeth!'  Yet  from  their  point  of  view 
they  were  right,  for  God  alone  can  forgive  sins;  nor  has  that  power 
ever  been  given  or  delegated  to  man.  But  was  He  a  mere  man,  like 
even  the  most  honoured  of  God's  servants?  Man,  indeed;  but  'the 
Son  of  Man'^  in  the  emphatic  and  well-understood  sense  of  being 

'  The  expression,  '  reasoning  in  tlieir  sessiug  was  Ivilled. 
hearts,', corresponds  e,mc%  to  the  Rat)-  ■'  That  tlie  expression  'Son  of  Man' 

l)inic  ID'^D  ^mri?2.  Ber.  22  a.     The  word  (CIN  ]2)  was  well  understood  as  refer- 

"iniri  is  frequently  used  in  contradistinc-  ring  to  the  Messiah,  api)ears  from  the 

tiou  to  speaking.  following  remarkable  anti-Christian  pas- 

2  In   Sanh.  93  b  this   reading  of   the  sage  (Jer.   Taan   (55   h,  at  the  bottom): 

thouglits  is  regarded  as  the  fulfilment  of  '  If  a  man  shall  say  to  thee,  1  am  Gw\. 

Is.  xi.  'd,  and  as  one  of  the  marks  of  the  he  lies ;  if  he  says,  I  am  the  Son  of  Man, 

Messiah,  which  Bar  Kokhabh  not  pos-  his  end  will  be  to  repent  it;  if  he  says, 


506  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

HOOK  tlie  Rei)rcscntative  Man,  who  was  to  bring  a  new  Hie  to  liumanity; 
III  the  Secontl  Adam,  the  Lord  from  Heaven.  It  seemed  easy  to  say: 
^■^"•^-r^-^  'Thy  sins  have  been  forgiven.'  But  to  Him,  AVho  had  'authority'  to 
do  so  on  earth,  it  was  neither  more  easy  nor  more  diffieult  than  to 
say:  'Rise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  walk.'  Yet  this  latter,  assuredly, 
proved  the  former,  and  gave  it  in  the  sight  of  all  men  unquestioned 
reality.  And  so  it  was  the  thoughts  of  these  Scribes,  which,  as 
applied  to  Christy  were  '  evil ' — since  they  imputed  to  Him  blasphemy 
— that  gave  occasion  for  offering  real  evidence  of  what  they  would 
have  impugned  and  denied.  In  no  other  manner  could  the  object 
alike  of  miracles  and  of  this  special  miracle  have  been  so  attained  as 
by  the  'evil  thoughts'  of  these  Scribes,  when,  miraculously  brought 
to  light,  they  spoke  out  the  inmost  possible  doubt,  and  pointed  to  the 
highest  of  all  questions  concerning  the  Christ.  And  so  it  was  once 
more  the  wrath  of  man  which  praised  Him! 

'And  the  remainder  of  wrath  did  he  restrain.'  As  the  healed 
man  slowly  rose,  and,  still  silent,  rolled  up  his  pallet,  a  way  was  made 
for  him  between  this  multitude  which  followed  him  with  wondering 
eyes.  Then,  as  first  mingled  wonderment  and  fear  fell  on  Israel  on 
Mount  Carmel,  when  the  Are  had  leaped  from  heaven,  devoured  the 
sacrifice,  licked  up  the  water  in  the  trench,  and  even  consumed  the 
stones  of  the  altar,  and  then  all  fell  prostrate,  and  the  shout  rose  to 
heaven:  'Jehovah,  He  is  the  Elohim!'  so  now,  in  view  of  this  mani- 
festation of  the  Divine  Presence  among  them.  The  amazement  of 
fear  fell  on  them  in  this  Presence,  and  they  glorified  God,  and  they 
said:  'We  have  never  seen  it  on  this  wise!' 

I  go  up  into    heaven  (to    this    applies  whole  passage,  as  will  be  seen,  is  an  at- 

Numb.  xxiii.  19),  hath  he  said  and  shall  tempt  to  adapt.  Numb,  xxiii.  19  to  the 

he  not  do  it  ?  [or,  hath  he  spoken,  and  Christian  controversy, 
shall  he  make  it  good  ?]     Indeed,   the 


FORGIVENESS   OV   SIN    AND    WELCOME    TO   THE    SINNER.  SoJ* 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE  CALL  OF  MATTHEW — THE  SAVIOUR'S  WELCOME  TO  SINNERS — RAB- 
BINIC THEOLOGY  AS  RECzARDS  THE  DOCTRINE.  OF  FORGIVENESS  IN 
CONTRAST  TO  THE  GOSPEL  OF  CHRIST — THE  CALL  OF  THE  TWELVE 
APOSTLES. 

(SL  Matt.  ix.  9-13;  St.  Mark  ii.  13-17;  St.  Luke  v.  27-32;  St.  Matt.  x.  2^; 
SL  Mark  iii.  13-19;  St.  Luke  vi.  12-19.) 

In  two  things  chiefly  does  the  fundamental  difference  appear  between  chap. 
Christianity  and  all  other  religious  systems,  notably  Rabbinism.  And  xvil 
in  these  two  things,  therefore,  lies  the  main  characteristic  of  Christ's  ^-^"^y — 
work;  or,  taking  a  wider  view,  the  fundamental  idea  of  all  religions. 
Subjcctivel}',  they  concern  sm  and  the  shiner;  or,  to  put  it  objec- 
tively, the  forgiveness  of  sin  and  the  welcome  to  the  sinner.  But 
Rabbinism,  and  every  other  system  down  to  modern  humanitarianism 
— if  it  rises  so  high  in  its  idea  of  God  as  to  reach  that  of  sin,  which 
is  its  shadow — can  only  generally  point  to  God  for  the  forgiveness  of 
sin.  What  here  is  merely  an  abstraction,  has  become  a  concrete 
reality  in  Christ.  He  speaks  forgiveness  on  earth,  because  He  is  its 
embodiment.  As  regards  the  second  idea,  that  of  the  sinner,  all 
other  systems  know  of  no  welcome  to  him  till,  by  some  means  (inward 
or  outward),  he  have  ceased  to  be  a  sinner  and  become  a  penitent. 
They  would  first  make  him  a  penitent,  and  then  bid  him  welcome  to 
God;  Christ  first  welcomes  him  to  God,  and  so  makes  him  a  penitent. 
The  one  demands,  the  other  imparts  life.  And  so  Christ  is  the  Phy- 
sician, Whom  they  that  are  in  health  need  not,  but  they  that  are  sick. 
And  so  Christ  came  not  to  call  the  righteous  but  sinners — not  to  re- 
pentance, as  our  conunon  text  erroneously  puts  it  in  St.  Matthew  ix. 
.13,  and  St.  Mark  ii.  17/ but  to  Himself,  to  the  Kingdom;  and  this 
is  the  beginning  of  repentance. 

Thus  it  is  that  Jesus,  when  His  teaching  becomes  distinctive  from 
that  of  Judaism,  puts  these  two  points  in  the  foreground:  the  one  at 

1  The  words   '  to  reiientance '  are  cer-  jientance '  do  certainly  occur.     But.  with 

tainly  spurious  in  St.  Matt,  and  St.  Mark.  Goch'f,  I  regard  them  "as  referring  to  '  the 

I  regard    theirs    as    the    original   and  righteous,' and  as  used,  in  a  sense,  ironi- 

aulheutic  report  of  the  words  of  Christ.  cally. 
In  St.  Luke  v.  32,   the  words  '  unto  re- 


508  FROM    .!(»IM)AN    TO    TIIK    MOUNT    OF   TRANSFIGITRATION. 

BOOK      t  lie  cure  (»r  the  paralytic,  the  other  in  the  call  of  Levi-Matthew.   And 
III        this,  also,  further  explains  His  miracles  of  healing  as  for  the  higher 

^^ — v —  presentation  of  Himself  as  the  Great  Physician,  while  it  gives  some 
insight  into  the  nexus  of  these  two  events,  and  explains  their  chrono- 
logical succession.'  It  was  fitting  that  at  the  very  outset,  when  Rab- 
binism  followed  and  challenged  Jesus  with  hostile  intent,  these  two 
spiritual  facts  should  be  brought  out,  and  that,  not  in  a  controversial, 
but  in  a  positive  and  practical  manner.  For,  as  these  two  questions 
of  sin  and  of  the  possible  relation  of  the  sinner  to  God  are  the  great 
burden  of  the  soul  in  its  upward  striving  after  God,  so  the  answer  to 
them  forms  the  substance  of  all  religions.  Indeed,  all  the  cumbrous 
observances  of  Rabbinism — its  whole  law — were  only  an  attempted 
answer  to  the  question:   How  can  a  man  be  just  with  God? 

But,  as  Rabbinism  stood  self-confessedly  silent  and  powerless  as 
regarded  the  forgiveness  of  sins,  so  it  had  emphatically  no  word  of 
welcome  or  help  for  the  sinner.  The  very  term  '  Pharisee,'  or  '  sepa- 
rated one, '  implied  the  exclusion  of  sinners.  With  this  the  whole 
character  of  Pharisaism  accorded;  perhaps,  we  should  have  said,  that 
of  Rabbinism,  since  the  Sadducean  would  here  agree  with  the  Phari- 
saic Rabbi.  The  contempt  and  avoidance  of  the  unlearned,  which 
was  so  characteristic  of  the  system,  arose  not  from  mere  pride  of  know- 
ledge, but  from  the  thought  that,  as  '  the  Law  '  was  the  glory  and 
privilege  of  Israel — indeed,  the  object  for  which  the  world  was  created 
and  preserved — ignorance  of  it  was  culpal)le.  Thus,  the  unlearned 
blasphemed  his  Creator,  and  missed  or  perverted  his  own  destiny.  It 
was  a  principle,  that  '  the  ignorant  cannot  be  pious. '  On  the  principles 
of  Rabbinism,  there  was  logic  in  all  this,  and  reason  also,  though  sadly 
perverted.  The  yoke  of  '  the  Kingdom  of  God  '  was  the  high  destiny 
of  every  true  Israelite.  Only,  to  them  it  lay  in  external,  not  internal 
conformity  to  the  Law  of  God:  '  in  meat  and  drink,'  not  '  in  righteous- 
ness, peace,  and  joy  in  the  Holy  Ghost.'  True,  they  also  perceived, 
that  '  sins  of  thought '  and  purpose,  though  uncommitted,  were  '  more 

•  Yoma  29  a  gricvous  than  even  sins  of  outward  deed; '  "■  but  only  in  this  sense,  that 
each  outward  sin  was  traceable  to  inward  dereliction  or  denial  of  the 
Law — '  no  man  sinneth,  unless  the  spirit  of  error  has  first  entered  into 

b Sot. 3a  him."'  On  this  grcmnd  the  punishment  of  infidelity  or  apostasy  in 
the  next  world  was  endless,  while  that  of  actual  transgressions  was 

«Rosh  limited  in  duration."^ 

As  '  righteousness  came  by  the  Law, '  so  also  return  to  it  on  the 

^  So  in  all  the  three  Gospels.  "  Comp.  Sepher  Iqqarim  iv.  28. 


RABBINIC   VIEWS   OF    IMOI'ENTANCE.  509 

part  of  the  sinner.      Hence,  altliou^iih  Rabbinism  had   no  welcome  to     CHAP, 
the  sinner,  it  was  unceasing  in  its  call  to  re})entan('e  and  in  extolling-      XVll 

its  merits.     All  tlie  prophets  had  prophesied  only  of  re|)entance.^'  The   ^~— ^i 

last  pages  of  the  Tractate  on  the  Day  of  Atonement  are  lull  of  praises  "^er.  34  u 
of  rei)entance.      It  not  only  averted  punishment  and  prolonged  life, 
but  brought  good,  even  the  llnal  redemption  to  Israel  and  the  W(n-ld 
at  large.     It  surpassed  the  observance  of  all  the  comniandnients,  and 
was  as  meritorious  as  if  on(!  had  restored  the  Temple  and  Altar,  and 

ottered  all  sacrirtces.''     i)\\{\  hour  of  i)enitence   and  good   works  out-  "Vayyik. 

R.  7 
weighed  the  whole  world  to  come.  These  are  only  a  lew  ol  the  ex- 
travagant statements  by  wliich  Kabbinism  extolled  repentance.  But, 
when  najre  closely  examined,  we  11ml  that  this  repentance,  as  preced- 
ing the  free  welcome  of  invitation  to  the  sinner,  was  only  another 
form  of  work-righteousness.  This  is,  at  any  rate,  one  meaning  ^  of 
the  saying  which  conjoined  the  Law  and  repentance,  and  represented 
them  as  i>receding  the  Creation."  Another  would  seem  dei'ived  from  pes.  5ia; 
a  kind  ot  Manichajan  view  of  sm.  According  to  it,  Uod  llimselt  was 
really  the  author  of  the  YeUer  haRa,  or  evil  impulse'  ('  the  law  in  our 
members'),  for  which,  indeed,  there  was  an  absolute  necessity,  if  the 
world  was  to  continue.''^     Hence,  '  the  penitent '  was  really  '  the  great  j  Yoma  69 

.       .  .,  .  '  1     'j;  Ber.  R.  9, 

one,'  since  his  strong  nature  had  more  m  itot  the  '  evil  im[)ulse,  and   and  in 

.  .       ,  many 

the  conquest  of  it  by  the  penitent  was  really  ot  greater  merit  than  places 
abstinence  from  sin."     Thus  it  came,  that  the  true  penitent  really  -sanii.gga; 

.  ,  -     Maimnn. 

occupied  a  higher  place — '  stood  where  the  perfectly  righteous  could  na.  Tesh. 

not  stand."'    There  is  then  both  work  and  merit  in  [)enitence;   and  fganii.gga 

we  can  understand,  how  '  the  gate  of  penitence  is  open,  even  when  ^^'■-  ^* '' 

that  of  prayer  is  shut, '  ^  and  that  these  two  sentences  are  not  onl}^  con-  e  Yaikut  on 

•  Ps  xxxii 

sisteiit,  Init  almost  cover  each  other — that  the  Messianic  deliverance  p.  101  b 

would  come,  if  all  Israel  did  righteousness,''  and,  again,  if  all  Israel  hsanh.gsa 

repented  for  only  one  day; '  or,  to  put  it  otherwise — if  Israel  were  all  isanh.ssa; 

saints,  or  all  sinners."  wa 

We  have  already  touched  the  point  where,  as  regards  repent-  ''Sanh.  98,i 
ance,   as  formerly  in  regard  to  forgiveness,  the  teaching  of  Christ 
is  in  absolute  and  fundamental  contrariety  to  that  of  the  Rabbis. 
According  to  Jesus  Christ,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  to  feel 

that  wc  arc  but  unprofitable  servants.™     According  to  the  Rabbis,  as  -st.Luke 

xvli.  10 

'  It  would  1)e  quite  one-sided  to  repre-  posthumous  work, 

sent   this   as   the  only  meaniliii;,   as,   it  -  So  in  too  nianj'  passages  for  enunie- 

seems   to   me,  Wehf'7-   has   done   in   his  ration. 

'System  d.  altsynaa-oi::,  ])ala^st.  Theol.'  •'  Some  of  these  points  have  already 
This,  and  a  certain  defectiveness  in  the  been  stated.  But  it  was  necessary  to  re- 
treatment,  are  amoiiij:  the  blemishes  in  peat  them  so  as  to  give  a  connected  view, 
this  otherwise  intorestinu;  and  verv  able 


510 


FK(JM    JORDAN    TO   THE    MOINT    OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Yoma  I 


i"  Ber.  5  a, 
h;  Kldd.  81 
h 

'  Yoma  u.  s. 

<'  Yoma  u. 
s..  and 
many  pas- 
sages 

« In  almost 
innumer- 
able pas- 
sages 

f  Ab.  Zar. 
5a 


St.  Paul  puts  it,  '  righteousness  cometli  hy  the  Law; '  and,  \siien  it 
is  lost,  the  Law  alone  can  restore  life; '  while,  according  to  Cliristian 
teaching,  it  only  Ijringeth  death.  Thus  there  was,  at  the  very 
foundation  of  religious  life,  absolute  contrariety  between  Jesus  and 
His  contemporaries.  Whence,  if  not  from  heaven,  came  a  doctrine 
so  novel  as  that  which  Jesus  made  the  basis  of  His  Kingdom? 

In  one  respect,  indeed,  the  Kabbinic  view  was  in  some  measure 
derived  from  the  Old  Testament,  though  by  an  external  and,  there- 
fore, false  interpretation  of  its  teaching.  In  the  Old  Testament, 
also,  ' repentance '  was  Teshubhah  (riDVi'n),  'return;'  while,  in  the 
New  Testament,  it  is  'change  of  mind'  (/xeravoia).  It  would  not 
be  fair  here  to  argue,  that  the  common  expression  for  repenting  was 
'  to  do  penitence '  (nzvi'n  ~ry)>  since  by  its  side  we  frequently 
meet  that  other:  'to  return  in  penitence'  (rcvr,"^D  zvr)-  Indeed, 
other  terms  for  repentance  also  occur.  Thus  Tohu  (to)  means 
repentance  in  the  sense  of  regret;  Charatah,  perhaps,  more  in  that 
of  a  change  of  mind;  while  Teyubha  or  TeshubJiah  is  the  return  of 
repentance.  Yet,  according  to  the  very  common  Rabbinic  expres- 
sion, there  is  a  'gate  of  repentance  '  diZ'^r- ~Z'Z'r^.  "JZ)  through 
which  a  man  must  enter,  and,  even  if  Charatah  be  the  sorrowing 
change  of  mind,  it  is  at  most  only  that  gate.  Thus,  after  all, 
there  is  more  in  the  '  doing  of  penitence'  than  appears  at  first  sight. 
In  point  of  fact,  the  full  meaning  of  repentance  as  Teshubhah,  or 
'  return,'  is  only  realised,  when  a  man  has  returned  from  dereliction 
to  observance  of  the  Law.  Then,  sins  of  purpose  are  looked  upon  as 
if  they  had  been  unintentional — nay,  they  become  even  virtuous 
actions.* 

We  are  not  now  speaking  of  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  In  truth, 
Rabbinism  knew  nothing  of  a  forgiveness  of  sin,  free  and  uncon 
ditional,  unless  in  the  case  of  those  who  had  not  the  power  of  doing 
anything  for  tlieir  atonement.  I]ven  in  the  passage  which  extole 
most  the  frecness  and  the  benefits  of  reijentance  (the  last  i)ages  of 
the  Tractate  on  the  Day  of  Atoncmont),  there  is  the  most  painful 
discussion  about  sins  great  and  siiiall.  about  repentance  from  fear  or 
from  love,  about  sins  against  commands  (u- against  prohibitions;  and, 
in  what  cases  repentance  averted,  or  else  only  deferred,  judgment, 
leaving  final  expiation  to  be  wrought  by  other  means.  These  were: 
personal  sufferings,*"  death, '^  or  the  Day  of  Atonement.'*  Besides  these, 
there  were  always  the  '  merits  of  the  fathers:' "  or,  perhaps,  some  one 
good  work  donc:*^  or.  at  any  rate,  the  bi-icf  jteriod  of  ))urgatoi-ial 
'  So,  acconliui;"  to  Rutjljiiii.<m.  l)Otli  in  tlic  Seplicr  Iqqar.  and  in  Menor.  IIaininai)r. 


SORROW,    SHAME,    GONFKSSION,    EXPIATION. 


511 


pain,  wtiich  inii;-ht  open  the  ^-att;  of  mercy.  These  are  the  so-called 
'  advocates  '  (rcraqlitiu,  ■j'"j''?p-is)  of  the  penitent  sinner.  In  a  classi- 
cal passage  on  the  subject,'  repentance  is  viewed  in  its  bearing  on 
four  different  spiritual '  conditions,  which  are  supposed  to  be  respec- 
tively referred  to  in  Jer.  iii.  22;  Lev.  xvi.  30;  Is.  xxii.  14;  and 
Ps.  Ixxxix.  32.  The  tirst  of  these  refers  to  a  breach  of  a  command, 
with  immediate,  and  persistent  cry  for  forgiveness,  which  is  at 
once  granted.  The  second  is  that  of  a  breach  of  a  j^roJiibifion, 
when,  besides  repentance,  the  Day  of  Atonement  is  required.  The 
third  is  that  o^ purposed  sin,  on  which  death  or  cutting  off  had  1)een 
threatened,  when,  besides  repentance  and  the  Day  of  Atonement, 
sutferings  are  retpiired;  while  in  opien  profanation  of  the  Name  of 
God,  only  death  can  make  final  atonement.'' 

But  the  nature  of  repentance  has  yet  to  be  more  fully  explained. 
Its  gate  is  sorrow  and  shame."  In  that  sense  repentance  may  be  the 
work  of  a  moment,  '  as  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye, '  '^  and  a  life's  sins  may 
obtain  mercy  by  the  tears  and  prayers  of  a  few  minutes'  repentance. '  - 
To  this  also  refers  the  beautiful  sajdng,  that  all  which  rendered  a 
sacrifice  unfit  for  the  altar,  such  as  that  it  was  broken,  fitted  the 
penitent  for  acceptance,  since  '  the  sacrifices  of  God  were  a  broken 
and  contrite  heart.'  ^  By  the  side  of  what  may  be  called  contrition, 
Jewish  theology  places  confession  ( Viddui,  *n*i).  This  was  deemed  so 
integral  a  part  of  repentance,  that'  those  about  to  be  executed," 
or  to  die,''  were  admonished  to  it.  Achan  of  old  had  thus  obtained 
pardon.'  But  in  the  case  of  the  living  all  this  could  only  be  regarded 
as  repentance  in  the  sense  of  being  its  preparation  or  beginning. 
p]ven  if  it  were  Charatah,  or  regret  at  the  past,  it  would  not  yet  be 
Teshubhah,  or  return  to  God;  and  even  if  it  changed  puri)osed  into 
unintentional  sin,  arrested  judgment,  and  stayed  or  banished  its  Angel, 
it  would  still  leave  a  man  without  those  works  which  are  not  only  his 
real  destiny  and  merit  heaven,  but  constitute  true  repentance.  For, 
as  sin  is  ultimately  dereliction  of  the  Law,  beginning  within,  so 


■j  See  also 
Yoma  86 
and  foUow- 
ing 

■^^Ber.  12  6; 
Chag.  5  a 

*  Pesiqta 
ed.  Bub.  p. 
163  6 

'  Ab.  Zar. 
17  a 


f  Vayyik.  R, 

7 


'  Sanh.  vi.  -I 
i>  Shabb.  32 

'  Sanh.  u.  a. 


'  In  Menorath  Hammaor  (^QV  \ .  1.  1. 

2)  seven  kiiid!3of  repentaiicp  in  roffard  to 
seven  different  conditions  are  mentioned. 
They  are  repentance  immediately  after 
ttie  commission  of  sin ;  after  a  course  of 
sin,  but  wliile  there  is  still  the  power  of 
sinning;  where  there  is  no  longer  the 
occasion  for  sinning  ;  where  it  is  caused 
by  admonition,  or  f»>ar  of  danger;  where 
it  is  caused  by  actual  atlliction;  where  a 
man  is  old,  and  unable  to  sin;  and, 
lastly,  repentance  in  prospect  of  death. 


-  This  is  illustrated,  among  other 
tilings,  by  the  history  of  a  Rabbi  wlio.  at 
the  close  of  a  dissolute  life,  became  a 
convert  by  repentance.  The  story  of  the 
occasion  of  his  repentance  is  not  at  all 
nice  in  its  realistic  details,  and  the  tears 
with  which  a  self-rigliteous  colleague  saw 
the  beatification  of  the  penitent  are  pain- 
fully illustrative  of  the  elder  brother  in 
the'Parable  of  the  Prodigal  Son  (Ab.  Z. 
17  a). 


512 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 

»  Ps.  xcii. 

>>  Ber.  R.  22 

"^  2  Chron. 
xxxiii.  12, 
13 


<•  Debar.  K. 
2;  ed. 

Warsli.  p.  7 
a;  co:up. 
Sanh.  102  b, 
last  lines, 
and  103  a 

'  Ex.  XV.  11 


f  Taan.  16  £i 


BRosh 
haSh.  17  h 


•■BabaMcz. 
85  a 

i  Ber.  17  a 

kU.  S. 

"■  Baba 
Mez.  85  a 


"  Tanch. 
Noach  i 

»  See  the 
discussion 
in  B.  Mez. 
37  a 


repeutaiu'o  is  ultimately  return  to  the  Law.  In  this  sense  there  is  a 
higher  and  meritorious  confession,  which  not  only  owns  sin  but  God, 
and  is  therefore  an  inward  return  to  Him.  So  Adam,  when  he  saw 
the  ])cnitence  of  Cain,  burst  into  this  Psalm,''  '  It  is  a  good  thing  to 
confess'  unto  the  Lord.'""'  Manasseh,  when  in  trouble,  called  n[)on 
Grod  and  was  heard,''  although  it  is  added,  that  this  was  only  done  in 
order  to  prove  that  the  door  of  repentance  was  open  to  all.  Indeed, 
the  Angels  had  closed  the  windows  of  Heaven  against  his  prayers,  but 
God  opened  a  place  for  their  entrance  beneath  His  throne  of  glory.'' 
Similarly,  even  Pharaoh,  who,  according  to  Jewish  tradition,  made  in 
the  Red  Sea  confession  of  God,"  was  preserved,  became  king  of 
Nineveh,  and  so  brought  the  Ninevites  to  true  rej^entance,  which 
verily  consisted  not  merely  in  sackcloth  and  fasting,  but  in  restitu- 
tion, so  that  every  one  who  had  stolen  a  beam  pulled  down  his  whole 
palace  to  restore  it.'' 

But,  after  all,  inward  repentance  only  arrested  the  decrees  of 
justice."  That  which  really  put  the  penitent  into  right  relationship 
with  God  was  r/ood  deeds.  The  term  must  here  be  taken  in  its 
widest  sense.  Fasting  is  meritorious  in  a  threefold  sense:  as  the 
expression  of  humiliation,''  as  an  offering  to  God,  similar  to,  but  better 
than  the  lat  of  sacrifices  on  the  altar,'  and  as  preventing  further 
sins  by  chastening  and  keeping  under  the  body.''  A  similar  view 
must  be  taken  of  self-inflicted  penances.'"'*  On  the  other  hand,  there 
was  restitution  to  those  who  had  been  wronged — as  a  Avoman  once  put 
it  to  her  husl)and,  to  the  surrender  of  one's  'girdle.'"*  Nay,  it  must 
be  of  even  more  than  was  due  iii  strict  law."  To  this  must  be  added 
public  acknowledgment  of  public  sins.  If  a  person  had  sinned  in  one 
direction,  he  must  not  only  avoid  it  for  the  future,^  but  aim  at  doing 
all  the  more  in  the-opposite  direction,  or  of  overcoming  sin  in-the  same 
circumstances  of  temptation."     Beyond  all  this  were  the  really  good 

he  has  become  impervious  to  the  lire  of 
Gehinnom.  For  thirty  clays  he  was  suc- 
cessful, l)ut  after  that  it  was  noticed  his 
thi^lis  were  sinfi;ed,  whence  he  was  called 
'the  little  one  with  the  singed  thiglis.' 

*  But  such  restitution  was  sometimes 
not  insisted  on,  for  the  sake  of  encour- 
aging  jienitcnts. 

*  Raljbinism  has  an  apt  illustration  of 
this  in  llie  saying,  that  all  the  baths  of 
lustration  would  not  cleanse  a  man,  so 
long  as  lie  continued  liolding  in  his  hand 
thatwliich  had  polluted  him  (Taan.  H>  n). 

'■  These  statements  are  all  so  tlior- 
oughly  Rabbinic  tliat  it  is  needless  to 
nialve  special  references. 


^  So  it  would  need  to  be  rendered  in 
this  context. 

^  Anotlier  beautiful  allegory  is  that,  in 
the  fear  of  Adam,  as  the  night  closed  in 
upon  his  guilt,  God  gave  him  two  stones 
to  rub  against  each  other,  which  pro- 
duced the  .spark  of  light — the  rubbing  of 
these  two  stones  being  emblematic  of 
repentance  (Pes.  54  a;  Ber.  R.  II,  12). 

3  Baba  Mez.  84  b  (([uoted  i^y  Weber) 
is  scarcely  an  instance.  The  whole  of 
that  part  of  the  Talmud  is  specially  re- 
pugnant, from  its  unsavory  character 
and  grossly  absurd  stories.  In  one  of  the 
stories  in  Baba  Mez.  8'),  a  Rabbi  tries  by 
sitting  over  the  tire  in  an  oven,  whether 


Gen.  xlviii. 


WHAT    A    I'Ai;i)()NEr)    SINNER    MUST    DO.  5I3 

works,  whether  occupation  with  the  Law'' or  outward  deeds,  which  ciiap. 
constituted  perfect  repentance.      Thus  we  read,^  that   every   time       xvii 

Israel  gave  alms  or  did  any  kindness,  they  made  in  this  world  great  "- — . ' — 

peace,  and  procured  great  Paracletes  between  Israel  and  their  Father  ^vayyik. 

in  Heaven.       Still  farther,  we  are  told  "  what  a  sinner  must  do  who  towaid« 

'  the  end 

would  be  pardoned.     If  he  had  been  accustomed  daily  to  read  one  bm B.Bab, 
column  in  the  Bible,  let  him  read  two;  if  to  learn  one  chapter  in  the   ^^" 

'  '  1  c  Vayyik. 

Mishnah,  lot  him  learn  two.      But  if  he  be  not  learned  enough  to  do  k.  25,  beg. 

'  "  ed.  Warsh. 

either,  let  him  become  an  administrator  for  the  congregation,  or  a  p-  38 « 

public  distributor  of  alms.     Nay,  so  far  was  tlie  doctrine  of  external 

merit  carried,  that  to  be  buried  in  the  land  of  Israel  was  supposed  to 

ensure  forgiveness  of  sins.''      This  may,  finally,  be  illustrated  by  an  dTanch.on 

instance,  which  also  throws  some  light  on  the  parable  of  Dives  in 

Hades.     Rabbi  Simeon  ben  Lakish  had  in  early  life  been  the  associate 

of  two  robbers.     But  he  repented,  '  returned  to  his  God  with  all  his 

heart,  Avith  fasting  and  prayer,  was  early  and  late  before  God,  and 

busied  himself  with  the  Torah  (Law)  and  the  commandments."     Then 

both  he  and  his  former  companions  died,  Avhen  they  saAv  him  in  glory, 

while  themselves  were  in  the  lowest  hell.     And  when  they  reminded 

God,  that  with  Him  there  was  no  regard  of  persons.  He  pointed  to 

the  Rabbi's  penitence  and  their  OAvn  impenitence.     On  this  they  asked 

for  respite,  that  they  might  '  do  great  penitence,'  when  they  were 

told  that  there  was  no  space  for  repentance  after  death.     This  is 

farther  enforced  by  a  parable  to  the  eflfect,  that  a  man,  Avho  is  going 

into  the  wilderness,  must  provide  himself  with  bread  and  water  while 

in  the  inhabited  country,  if  he  would  not  perish  in  the  desert. 

Thus,  in  one  and  another  respect.  Rabbinic  teaching  about  the 
need  of  repentance  runs  close  to  that  of  the  Bible.  But  the  vital 
(lilference  between  Rabbinism  and  the  Gospel  lies  in  this:  that 
Avhereas  Jesus  Christ  freely  invited  all  sinners,  whatever  their  past, 
assuring  them  of  welcome  and  grace,  the  last  word  of  Rabbinism  is 
only  despair,  and  a  kind  of  Pessimism.  For,  it  is  expressly  and 
repeatedly  declared  in  the  case  of  certain  sins,  and,  characteristically, 
of  heresy,  that,  even  if  a  man  genuinely  and  truly  repented,  he  must 
expect  immediately  to  die — indeed,  his  death  would  be  the  evidence 
that  his  repentance  was  genuine,  since,  though  such  a  sinner  might 
turn  from  his  evil,  it  would  be  impossible  for  him,  if  he  lived,  to  lay 
hold  on  the  good,  and  to  do  it."  eAb.  zar. 

It  is  in  the  light  of  Avhat  Ave  have  just  learned  concerning  tlie 
Rabbinic  vicAvs  of  forgiveness  and  repentance  that  the  call  of  Lcvi- 
Matthew  must  be  i-ead,.if  wo  would  poreoivo  its  full  moaning.     There 


n  a 


514 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOTNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  St.  Mark 
11.13 


<>  Gltt.  34  6 


'  Sheq.  V.  1 

"*  Eduy.  ii. 
5;  Yoma 
84a 

•  Sanh.  43  a, 
in  the  older 
editions ; 
comp, 
Chesron. 
haShas. 
p.  22  6 


is  no  need  to  suppose  that  it  took  pla(;e  immediately  on  the  cure  of 
the  paralytic.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  circumstantial  account  of 
St.  Mark  implies,  that  some  time  had  intervened.^  If  our  suggestion 
be  correct,  that  it  was  winter  when  the  paralytic  was  healed  at 
Capernaum,  we  may  suppose  it  to  liave  been  the  early  spring-time  of 
that  favoured  district,  when  Jesus  'went  forth  again  by  the  seaside.' 
And  with  this,  as  we  shall  see,  l)ost  agrees  the  succession  of  after- 
events. 

Few,  if  any,  could  have  enjoyed  better  opportunities  for  hearing, 
and  quietly  thinking  over  the  teaching  of  the  Prophet  of  Nazareth, 
than  Levi-Mattliew.  There  is  no  occasion  for  speculating  which  was 
his  original,  or  whether  the  second  name  was  added  after  his  conver- 
sion, since  in  Galilee  it  was  common  to  have  two  names — one  the 
strictly  Jewish,  the  other  the  Galilean.''  Nor  do  we  wonder,  that  in 
the  sequel  the  first  or  purely  Jewish  name  of  Levi  was  dropped,  and 
only  that  of  Matthew  {Mattl,  Mattai,  llatteija,  Maftithyah),  retained. 
The  latter  which  is  the  equivalent  of  Nathanael,  or  of  the  Greek 
Theodore  (gift  of  God),  seems  to  have  been  frequent.  We  read  that 
it  was  that  of  a  former  Temple-ofticial,"  and  of  several  Rabbis.''  It 
is  perhaps  of  more  interest,  that  the  Talmud  °  names  five  as  the 
disciples  of  Jesus,  and  among  them  these  two  whom  we  can  clearly 
identify:  Matthew  ^  and  Thaddgeus.^ 

Sitting  before  ^  his  custom-house,  as  on  that  day  when  Jesus 
called  him,  Matthew  must  have  frequently  heard  Him  as  He  taught 


'  A  ridiculous  story  is  told  that  Mat- 
thew endeavored  to  avert  sentence  of 
death  by  a  play  on  his  name,  quoting 
Ps.  xlii.  2 :  '  Mathai  (in  our  version, 
'  When  ')  I  shall  come  and  appear  before 
God;'  to  which  the  judges  replied  by 
similarly  adapting  Ps.  xli.  5:  '  Mnt/ini 
(in  our  version,  '  When ')  he  shall  die, 
and  his  name  perish.' 

The  other  three  disciples  are  named: 
Neqai,  Netscr,  and  Boni,  or  Buni.  In 
Taan.  20  «  a  miracle  is  related  which 
gave  to  Boni  the  name  of  Nicodemus 
(Naqdimon).  But  I  regard  this  as  some 
confusion,  of  which  there  is  much  in  con- 
nection with  the  name  of  Nicodemus  in 
the  Talmud.  According  to  the  Talmud, 
like  Matthew,  the  other  three  tried  to  save 
their  lives  by  punning  appeals  to  Scrip- 
ture, similar  to  that  of  St.  Matthew. 
Thus,  Neqai  quotes  Exod.  xxiii.  7,  '  Naqi 
('the  iiMiocent'  in  our  version)  and  the 
righteous  shalt  thou  not  slay,' to  which 
the  judges  replied  by  Ps.   x.  8.  '  in  the 


secret  places  he  shall  slay  Naqi  ('the 
innocent '  in  our  version').  Again,  Netser 
pleads  Is.  xi.  1 :  '  Netser  (a  branch)  shall 
grow  out  of  his  roots,'  to  which  the 
judges  reply,, Is.  xiv.  19:  'Thou  art  cast 
out  of  thy  grave  like  an  abominable 
Netser '  (branch),  while  Boni  tries  to  save 
his  life  by  a  pun  on  Exod.  iv.  22 :  '  My 
first-born  Beni  (in  our  version,  '  my  son  ') 
is  Israel,'  to  which  the  judges  reply  by 
quoting  the  next  verse,  'I  will  slay 
Buikha  (in  our  version,  'thy  son'),  thy 
first-born  ! '  If  the  Hebrew  Beni  was 
sometimes  pronounced  Boni,  this  may 
account  for  the  Grecianised  form  Boan- 
ert/es  ('sous  of  thunder')  for  Beneji- 
Reijosh,  or  Jii-gashn.  In  Hebrew  the  root 
scarcely  means  even  '  noise '  (see  (re.s- 
eniits^wh  U."^"!),  but  it  has  that  meaning 
in  the  Aramaean.  Kautzsch  (Gram.  d. 
Bibl.-Aram.)  suggests  the  word  regaz, 
'anger,'  'angry  impetuosity.'  But  the 
sviggestion  does  not  commend  itself. 
*  i.TT't  TO  mAcovoiv. 


PUBLICANS'   AND   CUSTOM-HOUSE   OFFICIALS. 


515 


by  the  sea-sliore.  For  this  would  ho  the  best,  and  therefore  often 
chosen,  ])luce  for  the  purpose.  Thither  not  only  the  multitude  from 
Capernaum  could  easily  follow;  but  here  was  the  landing-place  for 
the  many  ships  which  traversed  the  Lake,  or  coasted  from  town  to 
town.  And  this  not  only  for  them  who  had  business  in  Capernaum 
or  that  neighbourhood,  but  also  for  those  who  would  then  strike 
the  great  road  of  Eastern  commerce,  which  led  from  Damascus  to  the 
harbours  of  the  West.  Touching  the  Lake  in  that  very  neighbour- 
hood, it  turned  thence,  northwards  and  westwards,  to  join  what  was 
termed  the  Upper  Galilean  road. 

We  know  much,  and  yet,  as  regards  details,  perhaps  too  little 
about  those  '  tolls,  dues,  and  customs,'  which  made  the  Roman  admin- 
istration such  sore  and  vexatious  exaction  to  all  'Provincials,' and 
.which  in  Judaea  loaded  the  very  name  of  pulilican  with  contempt  and 
hatred.  They  who  cherished  the  gravest  religious  doubts  as  to  the 
lawfulness  of  paying  any  tribute  to  Cassar,  as  involving  in  principle 
recognition  of  a  bondage  to  which  they  would  fain  have  closed  their 
eyes,  and  the  substitution  of  heathen  kingship  for  that  of  Jehovah, 
must  have  looked  on  the  publican  as  the  very  embodiment  of  anti- 
nationalism.  But  perhaps  men  do  not  always  act  under  the  constant 
consciousness  of  such  aljstract  principles.  Yet  the  endless  vexatious 
interferences,  the  unjust  and  cruel  exactions,  the  petty  tyranny,  and 
the  extortionate  avarice,  from  which  there  was  neither  defence  nor 
appeal,  would  make  it  always  well-nigh  unbearable.  It  is  to  this 
that  the  Rabbis  so  often  refer.  If  '  publicans'  were  disqualified  from 
being  judges  or  witnesses,  it  was,  at  least  so  far  as  regarded  witness- 
bearing,  because  '  they  exacted  more  than  was  due.'"  Hence  also  it 
was  said,  that  repentance  was  specially  difficult  for  tax-gatherers  and 
custom-house  officers.*" 

It  is  of  importance  to  notice,  that  the  Talmud  distinguishes  two 
classes  of  'publicans':  the  tax-gatherer  in  general  (Gabbai),  and  the 
Mokhes,  or  MokJtsa.  who  was  specially  the  douanier  or  custom-house 
official.-  Although  both  classes  fall  under  the  Rabbinic  ban,  the 
douanier — such  as  Matthew  was — is  the  object  of  chief  execration. 
And  this,  because  his  exactions  were  more  vexatious,  and  gave  more 
scope  to  rapacity.  The  Gabbai,  or  tax-gatherer,  collected  the  regular 
dues,  which  consisted  of  grouml-,  income-,  and  poll-tax.     The  ground- 


CIL^P. 
XVII 


'  Sanh.  25  b 


b  Baba  K. 
94  6 


'  With  them  herdsmen  were  conjoined, 
on  account  of  their  frequent  temptations 
to  dishonesty,  and  their  wild  lives  far 
from  ordinances. 


2  Wiinftche  is  mistaken  in  making  tiie 
(Jahbdi  the  suiterior.  and  the  Mokhes  the 
subordinate,  tax-collector.  See  Levy, 
Neuiiebr.  Worterb,  iii.  p.  116  a. 


516 


FHOM    .I()i;i).VN    TO    THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGUIIATIOX. 


BOOK 

ni 


'  Jer.  Dem. 
23  a ;  coinp. 
Bekhor. 
31a 

»InB. 
Kamma 
X.  2 


■'  Jer.  Kidd. 


Shabb.  78 


tax  amoimted  to  oiie-teutli  (tfnll  grain  aud  one-fifth  of  the  wine  and 
frnit  grown;  ]jartly  })aid  in  kind,  and  partly  commuted  into  money. 
The  income-tax  amounted  to  1  per  cent.;  while  the  head-nnme} ,  or 
poll-tax,  was  levied  on  all  persons,  bond  and  free,  in  the  case  of  men 
from  the  age  of  fourteen,  in  that  of  women  from  tlie  age  of  twelve, 
up  to  that  of  sixty-five. 

If  this  offered  many  opportunities  for  vexatious  exactions  and 
rapacious  injustice,  the  3Iokhes  might  inflict  much  greater  hardshij) 
upon  the  poor  people.  There  was  tax  and  duty  upon  all  imports  and 
exports;  on  all  that  was  bought  and  sold;  l)ridge-money,  road-money, 
harbour-dues,  town-dues,  &c.  The  classical  reader  knoAvs  the  in- 
genuity which  could  invent  a  tax,  and  find  a  name  for  every  kind  of 
exaction,  such  as  on  axles,  wheels,  pack-animals,  pedestrians,  roads, 
highways;  on  admission  to  markets;  on  carriers,  bridges,  ships,  and 
quays;  on  crossing  rivers,  on  dams,  on  licences,  in  short,  on  such  a 
variety  of  objects,  that  even  the  research  of  modern  scholars  has  not 
been  able  to  identify  all  the  names.  On  goods  the  ad  valorem  duty 
amounted  to  from  2i  to  5,  and  on  articles  of  luxury  to  even  12i  per 
cent.  But  even  this  was  as  nothing,  compared  to  the  vexation  of 
being  constantly  stopped  on  the  journey,  having  to  unload  all  one's 
pack-animals,  when  every  bale  and  package  was  opened,  and  the 
contents  tumbled  about,  private  letters  opened,  and  tlie  Jlokhes  ruled 
supreme  in  his  insolence  and  rapacity. 

The  very  word  3Iokhes  seems,  in  its  root-meaning,  associated  with 
the  idea  of  oppressi(m  and  injustice.  He  was  literally,  as  really,  an 
opjjressor.  The  Talmud  charges  them  with  gross  partiality,  remitting 
in  the  case  of  those  to  whom  they  Avished  to  show  favour,  and  exacting 
from  those  who  were  not  their  favourites.  They  Avere  a  criminal  race, 
to  which  Lev.  xx.  5  applied.  It  was  said,  that  there  ucA'er  Avas  a  family 
which  numbered  a  Mokhes,  in  Avhich  all  did  not  become  such.  Still, 
cases  are  recorded  when  a  religious  publican  Avould  extend  favour  to 
Rabbis,  or-giA^e  them  timely  notice  to  go  into  hiding.  If  one  belong 
ing  to  the  sacred  association  (a  Cliabher)  became  either  a  Gahhai  or  a 
Mokhes,  he  Avas  at  once  expelled,  although  he  might  be  restored  on 
repentance.''  That  there  Avas  ground  for  such  rigour,  appears  from 
such  an  occurrence,''  as  Avhen  a  Mokhes  took  from  a  defenceless  person 
his  ass,  giving  him  another,  and  very  inferior,  animal  for  it.  Against 
such  unscrupulous  oppressors  every  kind  of  deception  Avas  allowed; 
goods  might  be  declared  to  be  votive  offerings,"  or  a  person  pass  his 
slaA^e  as  his  son.'' 

The  Mokhes  was  called  '  great' "  if  he  employed  substitutes,  and 


LEVI-MATTIIKW   THE    PUBLICAN.  ;,  1  f 

'  small '  if  ho  stood  liiiiiscir  at  the  receipt  of  custom.     'I'ill  Ihc  tiiiic     CIIAI'. 
of  Ciesar  the  taxes  were  farmed  lu  Rome,  at  the  highest  hiihliiiii-,       XVll 
mostly  by  ajoiiit-stock  company  of  tlu^  kiiiglitly  order,  which  emi)loyed   ^— ^^r — -' 
publicans  under  them.    l>iit  by  a  decree  of  Caesar,  the  taxes  of  Juda'a 
were  no  longer  farmed,  but  levied  ))y  publicans  in  Judaea,  and  paid 
directly  to  the  Government,  the  oflicials   being   appointed  by  the 
provincials  themselves."'      This    was,   indeed,   a    great    alleviation,    "•/"•>■•  Am. 
although  it  perhai)s  made  the  tax-gatherers  only  nioi-e  unpopular,  as 
Ixiing  the  direct  officials  of  the  heathen  powM:'r.-    This  also  exi)lains 
how,  if  the  Mishnah  fori )ids'' even  the  changing  of  money  from  the   ''B.  Kam- 
guilt-laden  chest  of  a  AloK-Jies,  or  (louanier,  the  Gemara''  adds,  that  cBabaK 
su(di  ai)})Iied  to  custom-house  officers  who  either  did  not  keep  to  the  ^^^"■ 
tax  appointed  by  the  Government,  or  indeed  to  any  fixed  tax,  and  to 
those  who  appointed  themselves  to  such  office — that  is,  as  we  take 
it,  who  would  volunteer  for  the  service,  in  the  hope  of  making  profit 
on  their  own  account.     An  instance  is,  however,  related  of  a  Gabbed, 
or  tax-gatherer,  Ijccoming  a  celebrated  Rabbi,  though  the  taint  of  his 
former  calling  deterred  the  more  rigid  of  his  colleagues  from  inter- 
course with  him.*'     On  heathen  feast  days  toll  w\as  remitted  to  those  ''Bekhor. 
w^ho  came  to  the  festival."     Sometimes  this  w-as  also  done  from  kind-  .xh.7.a.v. 
ness.'    The  following  story  may  serve  as  a  final  illustration  of  the  ^'^" 

. '  .  f  Tos.  B. 

l)oi)ular  notions,  abke  about  publicans  and  about  the  merit  of  good  Mets.  vm. 
works.  The  son  of  a  Mol'hcs  and  that  of  a  very  pious  man  had  died,  zuck." 
The  former  received  from  his  towmsmen  all  honour  at  his  burial,  Avhile 
the  latter  was  carried  unmourned  to  the  grave.  This  anomaly  was 
Divinely  explained  by  the  circumstance,  that  the  pious  man  had 
committed  one  transgression,  and  the  publican  had  done  one  good 
deed.  But  a  few  days  afterw^ards  a  further  vision  and  dream  was 
vouclisafed  to  the  survivors,  wiien  the  pious  was  seen  walking  in 
gardens  beside  w^ater-brooks,  while  tlie  publican  was  descried  stretch- 
ing out  his  tongue  towards  the  river  to  quench  his  thirst,  but  unable 
to  reach  the  refreshing  stream. '^  pjer.  chag. 

77  d:  comp. 

What  has  been  described  m  such  detail,  will  cast  a  peculiar  light  Jer.  sanh. 

'  .  '■  "  23  c,  and 

on  the  call  of  Matthew  by  the  Saviour  of  sinners.  For,  avc  remem-  sauh. a;* 
ber  that  Levi-Matthew  was  not  only  a  'publican,'  but  of  the  worst 
kind:  a  '■  Mokhes^  or  doiinnier;  a  'little  Mokhes,'  who  himself  stood 
at  his  custom-house;  one  of  the  class  to  whom,  as  w^e  are  told,  re- 
])entance  offered  special  difflculti(^s.  And,  of  all  such  officials,  those 
who  had  to  take  toll  from  s]iii)s  were  perhaps  the  worst,  if  we  are  to 

'  Comp.   Wiesel er' s  Be'itr.  ])\).   7r)-7s.      dinates,  but  direct  officials  of  the  Govern- 
Hoiice  the  '  publicans'  were   not   sul)()r-      iiient' 


518  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK     judge  by  the  i)ro verb:   'Woe  to  the  sliip  which  sails  without  having 
III         paid  the  dues."'     And  yet,  after  all,  Matthew  may  have  been  oidy 

"~ — -, '   one  of  that  numerous  class  to  whom  religion  is  merely  a  matter  quite 

•  Ab.  zar.  outsidc  of,  and  in  another  region  from  life,  and  Avho,  having  first  gone 
astray  through  ignorance,  feel  themselves  ever  farther  repelled,  or 
rather  shut  out,  by  the  narrow,  harsh  uncharitableness  of  those 
whom  they  look  upon  as  the  religious  and  i)ious. 

But  now  quite  another  day  had  dawned  on  him.  The  Prophet  of 
Nazai'cth  was  not  like  those  other  great  Rabbis,  or  their  pietist,  self- 
righteous  imitators.  There  was  that  about  Him  which  not  only 
aroused  the  conscience,  but  drew  the  heart — compelling,  not  repell- 
ing. What  He  said  opened  a  new  world.  His  very  appearance  be- 
spoke Him  not  harsh,  self-righteous,  far  away,  but  the  Helper,  if  not 
even  the  Friend,  of  sinners.  There  was  not  Ix^tween  Him  and  one 
like  Matthew,  the  great,  almost  impassable  gap  of  repentance.  He 
had  seen  and  heard  Him  in  the  Synagogue — and  who  that  had 
heard  His  Words,  or  witnessed  His  power,  could  ever  forget,  or  lose 
the  impression?  The  people,  the  rulers,  even  the  evil  spirits,  had 
owned  His  authority.  But  in  the  Synagogue  Jesus  was  still  the  Great 
One,  far-away  from  him;  and  he,  Lcvi-Matthew,  the  'little  Mokhes ' 
of  Capernaum,  to  whom,  as  the  Rabbis  told  him,  repentance  was  next 
to  impossible.  But  out  there,  in  the  open,  by  the  seashore,  it  was 
otherwise.  All  unobserved  by  others,  he  observed  all,  and  could 
yield  himself,  without  reserve,  to  the  impression.  Now,  it  was  an 
eager  multitude  that  came  from  Capernaum;  then,  a  long  train  bear- 
ing sufl'erers,  to  whom  gracious,  full,  immediate  relief  was  granted — 
whether  they  were  Rabbinic  saints,  or  sinners.  And  still  more  gra- 
cious than  His  deeds  were  His  Words. 

And  so  Matthew  sat  before  his  custom-house,  and  hearkened  and 
hoped.  Those  white-sailed  ships  would  bring  crowds  of  listeners;  the 
busy  caravan  on  that  highway  would  stop,  and  its  wayfarers  turn 
aside  to  join  the  eager  multitude — to  hear  the  Word  or  see  the  Word. 
Surely,  it  was  not  '  a  time  for  buying  and  selling, '  and  Levi  would  have 
little  work,  and  less  heart  for  it  at  his  custom-house.  Perhaps  he 
may  have  witnessed  the  call  of  the  first  Apostles;  he  certainly  must 
have  known  the  fishermen  and  shipowners  of  Capernaum.  And  now 
it  appeared,  as  if  Jesus  had  been  brought  still  nearer  to  Matthew. 
For,  the  great  ones  of  Israel,  'the  Scribes  of  the  Pharisees,"  and 
their  pietest  followers,  had  condnned  against  Him,  and  would  exclude 

I  Tills  is  perhaps  the'better  reading  of  St.  Mark  ii.  16. 


THE   CALL   OF   LEVI-MATTHEW.  519 

Him,  not  on  account  of  sin,  but  on  account  of  the  sinners.  And  so,  CHAP, 
wc  take  it,  long  l)cfore  that  eventful  day  which  for  ever  decided  his  xvn 
life,  Matthew  had,  in  heart,  become  the  disciple  of  Jesus.  Only  he  '^ — r — ' 
dared  not,  could  not,  have  hoped  for  pergonal  recognition — far  less 
for  call  to  discipleship.  But  when  it  came,  and  Jesus  fixed  on  him 
that  look  of  love  which  searched  the  inmost  deep  of  the  soul,  and 
made  Him  the  true  Fisher  of  men,  it  needed  not  a  moment's  thought 
or  consideration.  WIumi  he  spake  it,  '■  Follow  Me,'  the  past  seemed  all 
swallowed  up  in  the  present  heaven  of  bliss.  He  said  not  a  word, 
for  his  soul  was  in  the  speechless  surprise  of  unexpected  love  and 
grace;  but  he  rose  up,  left  the  custom-house,  and  followed  Him.  That 
was  a  gain  that  day,  not  of  Matthew  alone,  but  of  all  the  poor  and 
needy  in  Israel — nay,  of  all  sinners  from  among  men,  to  whom  the 
door  of  heaven  was  opened.  And,  verily,  by  the  side  of  Peter,  as  the 
stone,  we  place  Levi-Matthew,  as  tpyical  of  those  rafters  laid  on  the 
great  foundation,  and  on  which  is  placed  the  flooring  of  that  halnta- 
tion  of  the  Lord,  wliich  is  His  Church. 

It  could  not  have  been. long  after  this — probal)lj  almost  imme- 
diately— that  the  memorable  gathering  took  place  in  the  house  ot 
Matthew,  which  gave  occasion  to  that  cavil  of  the  Pharisaic  Scribes, 
which  served  further  to  bring  out  the  meaning  of  Levi's  call.  For, 
opposition  ever  brings  into  clearer  light  positive  truth,  just  as 
judgment  comes  never  alone,  Init  always  conjoined  with  disj)lay  of 
higher  mercy.  It  was  natural  that  all  the  publicans  around  should, 
after  the  call  of  ^latthow,  have  come  to  his  house  to  meet  Jesus. 
Even  from  the  lowest  point  of  view,  the  event  would  give  them 
a  new  standing  in  the  Jewish  world,  in  relation  to  the  Prophet  of 
Nazareth.  And  it  was  characteristic  that  Jesus  should  improve 
such  opportunity.  Whcii  we  read  of  'sinners"  as  in  comjiany  with 
these  publicans,  it  is  not  necessary  to  tiiink  of  gross  or  open  otlenders, 
though  such  may  have  been  included.  For,  we  know  what  such 
a  term  may  have  included  in  the  Pharisaic  vocabulary.  E(iually 
characteristic  was  it,  that  the  Rabbinists  should  have  addressed  their 
objection  as  to  fellowship  with  such,  not  to  the  ^Mastei-.  but  to  the 
disciples.  Perhaps,  it  was  not  only,  nor  chiefly,  from  moral  cowardice, 
though  they  must  have  known  what  the  reply  of  Jesus  would  have 
been.  On  the  other  hand,  there  was  wisdom,  or  i-ather  cunning, 
in  putting  it  to  the  disciples.  They  were  but  initial  learners — and 
the  question  was  one  not  so  much  of  principle,  as  of  acknowledged 
Jewish  propriety.  Had  they  been  able  to  lodge  this  cavil  in  their 
minds,  it  would  have  fatally  shaken  the  ccmfldencc   of  the   disciples 


520 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE    MOIXT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  St.  Matt. 
Ix.  14-17 


in  the  Master;  iiiid,  if  they  could  have  liccu  turned  aside,  the  cause 
of  the  new  Christ  would  have  been  grievou.sly  injured,  if  not  de- 
stroyed. Jt  was  witli  the  same  olyeet,  tliat  they  shortly  afterwards 
enlisted  the  aid  of  tlie  well-meaning,  but  only  partially-instructed 
disciples  of  John  on  the  question  of  fasting,-'  which  presented  a  still 
stronger  consensus  of  Jewish  opinion  as  against  Christ,  all  the  more 
telling,  that  here  the  practice  of  John  seemed  to  clash  with  that  of  Jesus. 
But  then  John  was  at  the  time  in  prison,  and  passing  through 
the  tcniporai'y  darkness  of  a  thick  cloud  towards  the  fuller  light. 
But  Jesus  could  not  leave  His  disciples  to  answer  for  themselves. 
What,  indeed,  could  or  would  they  have  had  to  say?  And  He  ever 
speaks  for  us,  when  we  cannot  answer  for  ourselves.  From  their  own 
standpoint  and  contention — nay,  also  in  their  OAvn  form  of  speech — 
He  answered  the  Pharisees.  And  He  not  only  silenced  their  gain- 
saying, but  further  opened  up  the  meaning  of  His  acting — nay,  His 
very  purpose  and  Mission.  *  No  need  have  they  who  are  strong  and 
i- The  latter  in  health'*  of  a  physician,  but  they  who  are  ill.'  It  was  the  very 
V.  .31 "  principle  of  Pharisaism  which  He  thus  set  forth,  alike  as  regarded  their 

self-exclusion  from  Him  and  His  consorting  with  the  diseased.  And, 
as  the  more  Hebraic  St.  Matthew  adds,  ai)plying  the  very  Rabbinic 
formula,  so  often  used  when  superficial  speciousness  of  knowledge  is 
directed  to  further  thought  and  information:  '  Go  and  learn!  '^  Learn 
what?  What  their  own  Scriptures  meant;  what  was  implied  in  the 
further  prophetic  teaching,  as  correction  of  a  one-sided  literalism  and 
externalism  that  misinterpreted  the  doctrine  of  sacrifices — learn  that 
fundamental  principle  of  the  spiritual  meaning  of  the  Law  as  ex- 
planatory of  its  mere  letter,  'I  will  have  mercy,  and  not  sacrifice.' 
They  knew  no  mercy  that  was  not  sacrifice^ — with  merit  attaching; 
He  no  sacrifice,  real  and  acceptable  to  God,  that  was  not  mercy.  And 
this  also  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  Old  Testament,  as  spiritually 
understood;  and,  being  such  a  fundamental  principle,  He  afterwards 
c  Ho8.  vi.  6  again  applied  this  saying  of  the  prophet '  to  His  own  mode  of  viewing 
and  treating  the  Sa]>bath-question.'' 

This  was  one  aspect  of  it,   as  Jesus   opened  up    anew  the  Old 
Testament,  of  which  their  key  of  knowledge  had    only   locked  the 


<!  St.  Matt, 
xU.  7 


^  T2"''  Ni*.  a  voiy  foniinon  formula, 
where  furtlier  tliouulit  and  instructiou 
are  required.  Ho  comnion,  indeed,  is  it, 
that  it  is  applied  in  Ibe  sense  of  '  let,' 
such,  or  such  thiii^  '  come  and  teach ' 
(niO^T'l  N'i*).  Sometimes  the  formula  is 
varied,  as  "Nil  N'D.  -come  and  .see' 
(Baba  Bath.   10  a),  or  *N~"1  *Na.  'go  and 


see  '  (u.  s.,  b). 

-  Even  in  that  beautiful  page  in  the 
Talnuid  (Succ.  49  b)  righteousness  and 
sacrifices  are  compared,  the  formerbeing 
declared  the  greater;  and  then  righteous- 
ness is  compared  with  works  of  kindness, 
with  alms,  &c. 


THE   CALLING   OV   THE   TWELVE   Al'O.STLES  521 

door.  There  Avas  yet  aiiothcr  and  liigher,  quite  explaining  and  CHAP. 
api)lying  alike  this  saying  and  the  whole  Old  Testament,  and  thus  XVH 
His  Own  Mission.  And  this  was  the  fullest  unlolding  and  highest  ^— ^.- — 
vindication  of  it:  '  For,  I  am  not  come  to  call  righteous  men,  but 
sinners.''  The  introduction  of  the  words  'to  repentance  '  in  some 
manuscripts  of  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Mark  shows,  how  early  the  full 
meaning  of  Christ's  words  was  misinterpreted  by  prosaic  apologetic 
attempts,  that  failed  to  fathom  their  depth.  For,  Christ  called 
sinners  to  better  and  higher  than  repentance,  even  to  Himself  and 
His  Kingdom;  and  to  '  emendate  '  the  original  record  by  introducing 
these  words  from  another  Gospel  -  marks  a  purpose,  indicative  of  retro- 
gression. And  this  saying  of  Christ  concerning  the  purpose  of  His 
Incarnation  and  Work:  'to  call  not  righteous  men,  but  sinners,' 
also  marks  the  standpoint  of  the  Christ,  and  the  relation  which  each 
of  us,  according  to  his  view  of  self,  of  righteousness,  and  of  sin — 
personally,  voluntarily,  and  deliberately — occupies  towards  the  King- 
dom and  the  Christ. 

The  history  of  the  call  of  St.  Matthe^v  has  also  another,  to  some 
extent  subordinate,  historical  interest,  for  it  was  no  doubt  speedily 
followed  by  the  calling  of  the  other  Apostles."    This  is  the  chrono-  ast.  Matt. 

X   2-4  ■ 

logical  succession  in  the  Synoptic  narratives.     It  also  affords  some  si.  Mark 

.  lii   1.3-19 

insight  into  the  history  of  those,  whom  the  Lord  chose  as  bearers  of  st.Luke'vi. 

■^  .  .  .  .  .  12-19 

His  Gospel.  The  difficulties  connected  with  tracing  the  family  descent 
or  possible  relationship  between  the  Apostles  are  so  great,  that  we 
must  forego  all  hope  of  arriving  at  any  certain  conclusion.  Without, 
therefore,  entering  on  details  about  the  genealogy  of  the  Apostles, 
and  the  varied  arrangement  of  their  names  in  the  Gospels,  which, 
with  whatever  uncertainty  remaining  in  the  end,  may  be  learned 
from  any  work  on  the  subject,  some  points  at  least  seem  clear. 
First,  it  appears  that  only  the  calling  of  those  to  the  Apostolate  is 
related,  which  in  some  sense  is  typical,  viz.  that  of  Peter  and 
Andrew,  of  James  and  John,  of  Philip  and  Bartholomew  (or  Bar 
Tclamyon,  or  Temalyon,"  generally  supposed  the  same  as  Nathanael),  >>  vayyik. 
and  of  Matthew  the  publican.     Yet,  secondly,  there  is  something  b!  22,  ed. 

Frledtn.  p. 

which   attaches   to   each    of    the   others.     Thomas,   who   is   called  113  a 
Didymus  (which  means  '  twin '),  is  closely  connected  with  Matthew, 
both  in  St.   Luke's  Gospel   and   in   that   of  St.    Matthew   himself. 
James  is  expressly  named  as  the  son  of  Alphseus  or  Clopas.''^     This  -^st.  joun 

xlx.  25 

^  Mark  the  absence  of  the  Article.  the  Less,'  or  rather  'the  Little,'  a  son  of 

■■^  See  the  note  on  p.  507.  Mary,    the   sister-in-law   of  the  Virgin- 

•^  Thus  he  would  be  tlie  sauic  as  •  James      Mother. 


522 


FROM    .lORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TIIANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
HI 


*  St.  Luke 
vi.  15; 
comp. 
St.  .John 
xlv.  22 


>>  War.  iv. 
3,  9 


■-"  Euseb. 

H.  E.  Hi.  11; 

iv.  22 


••  Josh.  XV. 
25 


we  know  to  li.ivc  been  al^^o  tlic  iiaiiic  (>rMattlie\v-Levi"t<  father.  But, 
as  the  name  was  a  common  one,  no  inlerence  can  be  drawn  from  it,  and 
it  does  not  seem  likely  that  the  father  of  Matthew  was  also  that  of 
James,  Judas,  and  Simon,  for  these  three  seem  to  have  been  brothers. 
Judas  is  designated  by  St.  Matthew  as  Lebba^us,  from  the  Hebrew 
lebJi,  a  heart,  and  is  also  named,  both  by  him  and  by  St.  Mark, 
Thaddseus — a  term  which,  however,  we  would  not  derive,  as  is 
cohimonly  done,  from  thad,  the  'female  breast,'  but  following  the 
analogy  of  the  Jewish  name  Thodah,  from  ^ praise.''^  In  that  case 
both  Lebbseus  and  Thaddaeus  would  j^oint  to  the  heartiness  and 
the  Thanksgiving  of  the  Apostle,  and  hence  to  his  character.  St. 
Luke  simply  designates  hiin  Judas  of  James,  which  means  that  he  was 
the  brother  (less  probably,  the  son)  of  James."  Thus  his  real  name 
would  have  been  Judas  Lebbgeus,  and  his  surname  Thaddaeus.  Closely 
connected  with  these  two  we  have  in  all  the  Gospels,  Simon,  surnamed 
Zelotes  or  Cananajan  (not  Canaanite),both  terms  indicating  his  original 
connection  with  the  Galilean  Zealot  party,  the  '  Zealots  for  the  Law.'" 
His  position  in  the  Apostolic  Catalogue,  and  the  testimony  of 
Hegesippus,'  seem  to  point  him  out  as  the  son  of  Clopas,  and  brother 
of  James,  and  of  Judas  Lebbgeus.  These  three  were,  in  a  sense, 
cousins  of  Christ,  since,  according  to  Hegesippus,  Clopas  was  the 
brother  of  Joseph,  while  the  sons  of  Zebedee  were  real  cousins, 
their  mother  Salome  being  a  sister  of  the  Virgin.^  Lastly,  we  have 
Judas  Iscariot,  or  Ish  Kerioth,  *  a  man  of  Kerioth,'  a  town  in  Judah.* 
Thus  the  betrayer  alone  would  be  of  Judsean  origin,  the  others  all 
of  Galilean;  and  this  may  throw  light  on  not  a  little  in  his  after- 
history. 

No  further  reference  than  this  briefest  sketch  seems  necessary, 
although  on  comparison  it  is  clear  that  the  Apostolic  Catalogues  in  the 
Gospels  are  ranged  in  three  groups,  each  of  them  beginning  with 
respectively  the  same  name  (Simon,  Philip,  and  James  the  son  of 
Alphaeus).  This,  however,  we  may  remark — how  narrow,  after  all, 
was  the  Apostolic  circle,  and  how  closely  connected  most  of  its  mem- 
bers. And  yet,  as  we  remember  the  history  of  their  calling,  or  those 
notices  attached  to  their  names  which  aftbrd  a  glimpse  into  their 
history,  it  was  a  circle,  thoroughly  representative  of  those  who  would 


'  As  is  done  in  the  Rabbinic  story 
where  ThuddaMis  appeals  to  Ps.  c.  1 
(superscription)  to  save  his  life,  while  the 
Rabbis  reply  by  appealino;  to  Ps.  1.  2,3: 
'Whoso  otiereth  praise  {fhodfih)  ijlori- 
figth  Me'  (Sanh.  43  d,  Chesr.  haSh.). 


^  As  to  the  identity  of  the  names  Al- 
pluTus  and  Clopas.  comp.  Wefze/  in  the 
Theol.  Stud.  n.  Krit.  for  ISS,",.  Heft  iii. 
See  also  further  remarks  on  the  sons  of 
Clopas,  in  the  comment  on  St.  .John  .\ix. 
25  in  I?ooi<  V.  ch.  xv. 


THE   A1'(JST(JL1G   COMMISSION. 


523 


gatlier  around  the  Christ.    Mo«t  marked  and  most  solemn  of  all,  it  was  CHAP, 

after  a  night  of  solitary  prayer  on  the  mountain-side,  that  Jesus  at  xvii 

early  dawn  'called  His  discii)les,  and  of  them  He  chose  twelve,  whom  — ^i  — 
also  He  named  Apostles,"  'that  they  should  be  with  Him,  and  that 
He  might  send  them  forth  to  preach,   and  to  have  power  to  heal 
vSickness  and  to  cast  out  devils. '  ^ 

'  As  to  the  designation  Boanerges  (sous  of  thunder),  see  note  2,  p.  514. 


524 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


BOOK 
III 


»  St.  Luke 
vi.  l;i 


THE   SERMON    ON    THE    MOUNT — THE    KINGDOM    OF    CHRIST   AND 
RABBINIC    TEACHING.^ 

(St.  Matt,  v.-vii.) 

It  was  probably  on  one  of  those  mountain-ranges,  which  stretch  to 
the  nortli  of  Capernaum,  that  Jesus  had  spent  the  night  of  lonely 
prayer,  whiqh  preceded  the  designation  of  the  twelve  to  the  Aposto- 
late.  As  the  soft  spring  morning  broke,  He  called  up  those  who 
had  learned  to  follow  Him,  and  from  among  them  chose  the  twelve, 
who  were  to  be  His  Amljassadors  and  Representatives."  ^  But  already 
the  early  light  had  guided  the  eager  multitude  which,  from  all  parts, 
had  come  to  the  broad  level  plateau  beneath  to  bring  to  Him  their 
need  of  soul  or  body.  To  them  He  now  descended  with  words  of 
comfort  and  power  of  healing.  But  better  yet  had  He  to  say,  and  to 
do  for  them,  and  for  us  all.  As  they  pressed  around  Him  for  that 
touch  which  brought  virtue  of  healing  to  all.  He  retired  again  to  the 
mountain-height,  and  through  the  clear  air  of  the  bright  spring  day 
spake,  what  has  ever  since  been  known  as  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount,' 
from  the  place  where  He  sat,  or  as  that  'in  the  i)lain'  (St.  Luke  vi. 
17),  from  the  place  where  He  had  first  met  the  multitude,  and  which 
so  many  must  have  continued  to  occupy  while  He  taught. 

The  first  and  most  obvious,  perhaps,  also,  most  superficial  thought, 
is  that  which  brings  this  teaching  of  Christ  into  comparison,  we  shall 
not  say  with  that  of  His  contemporaries — since  scarcely  any  who 
lived  in  the  time  of  Jesus  said  aught  that  can  be  compared  with  it — 
but  with  the  l)est  of  the  wisdom  and  piety  of  the  Jewish  sages,  as 


'  As  it  was  impo.-Jsible  to  quote  sepa- 
rately the  ditrerent  verses  in  the  Sermon 
on  the  Mount,  the  reader  is  requested  to 
have  the  Bil)ie  before  him,  so  as  to  com- 
pare the  versp.s  rpferr(>d  to  with  their 
commentation  in  this  cliajjter. 

''■  It  is  so  that  we  ijroup  toi^ether  St. 
Lukevi.  12,  i:^.  17-1!)!  compared  with  St. 
Mark  iii.  IS-lfi  and  St.  Matthew  v.  1.  2. 


^  According  to  traditional  view  this 
momitaln  was  the  so-called  '  Karn 
Hattin '  (Horns  of  Hattin)  on  the  road 
from  Tiberias  to  Nazareth,  about  1^ 
hours  to  the  north-west  of  Tiberias.  But 
the  tradition  dates  only  from  late  Cru- 
sadino;  times,  and  the  locality  is,  for  many 
reasons,  unsuitable. 


THE    -SERMON   ON   THE   MOUNT'   AND   TFH-]   TAEMUD.  525 

preserved  in  Rabbinic;  writinj^s.  Its  essential  diflcrence,  or  rather  chap. 
contrariety,  in  si)irit  and  snbstanee,  not  only  when  viewed  as  a  whole,  XVHI 
l)ut  in  almost  each  oi'  its  individual  parts,  will  be  briefly  shown  in  the  ^^^r*^^ 
sequel.  For  the  j)resent  we  only  express  this  as  deepest  conviction, 
that  it  were  difiicult  to  say  which  brings  greater  astonisliinent(though 
ol' opposite  kind):  a.  first  reading  of  the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount,'  or 
that  of  any  section  of  the  Talmud.  The  general  reader  is  here  at  a 
doul)le  disadvantage.  From  his  u{)bringing  in  an  atmosphere  which 
Christ's  Words  have  filled  with  heaven's  music,  he  knows  not,  and 
cannot  know,  the  nameless  feeling  which  steals  over  a  receptive  soul 
when,  in  the  silence  of  our  moral  wilderness,  those  voices  first  break 
on  the  ear,  that  had  never  before  been  wakened  to  them.  How  they 
hold  the  soul  entrfinced,  calling  up  echoes  of  inmost  yet  unrealised 
aspiration,  itself  the  outcome  of  the  God-born  and  God-tending  within 
us,  and  which  renders  us  capable  of  new  birth  into  the  Kingdom; 
call  up,  also,  visions  and  longings  of  that  world  of  heavenly  song,  so 
far  away  and  y(>t  so  near  us;  and  fill  the  soul  with  subduedness, 
expectancy,  and  ecstasy!  So  the  travel-stained  wanderer  flings  him 
down  on  the  nearest  height,  to  feast  his  eyes  with  the  first  sight  of 
home  in  the  still  valley  beneath;  so  the  far-of  exile  sees  in  his  dreams 
visions  of  his  child-life,  all  transfigured;  so  the  weary  prodigal  leans 
his  head  in  silent  musing  of  mingled  longing  and  rest  on  a  mother's 
knee.  So,  and  much  more;  tor,  it  is  the  Voice  of  God  Which  speaks 
to  us  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  amidst  the  trees  of  the  lost  Garden; 
to  us  who,  in  very  shame  and  sorrow,  hide,  and  yet  even  so  hear,  not 
words  of  judgment  but  of  mercy,  not  concerning  an  irrevocable,  and 
impossible  past,  but  concerning  a  real  and  to  us  possible  future,  which 
is  that  past,  only  better,  nearer,  dearer, — for,  that  it  is  not  the  human 
which  has  now  to  rise  to  the  Divine,  but  the  Divine  which  has  come 
down  to  the  huuian. 

Or  else,  turn  fioni  this  to  a  first  i-eading  of  the  wisdom  of  the 
Jewish  Fathers  in  their  Talmud.  It  little  matters,  what  part  be 
chosen  for  the  i)ur])ose.  Here,  also,  the  reader  is  at  disadvantage, 
since  his  instructors  present  to  him  too  frequently  broken  sentences, 
extracts  torn  from  their  connection,  words  often  mistranslated  as  re- 
gards their  ical  meaning,  or  misapi)lied  as  regards  their  bearing  and 
spirit:  at  b(>st,  only  isolated  sentences.  Take  these  in  their  connec- 
tion and  real  nu'aning,  and  what  a  terrible  awakening!  Who,  that 
has  read  half-a-dozen  pages  successively  of  any  i>art  of  the  Talmud, 
canfeelothcM'wisethan  by  turns  shocked,  jjaiiied,  amused,  or  astounded? 
There  is  hei-e  wit  and  logic,  quickness  and  readiness,  earnestness  and 


526  FROM    JORDAN   TO   TIIR   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

ijooK      zeal,  but  by  the  nidc  oi"  it  terrible  profanity,  uncleanness,  superstition, 
"1         and  tolly.     Taken  as  a  whole,  it  is  not  only  utterly  unspiritual,  but 

"-^^^ —  anti-si)iritual.  Not  that  the  Talmud  is  worse  than  might  be  expected 
ol' such  wi'itings  in  such  times  and  circumstances,  perhaps  in  many 
respects  much  l)etter — always  l)earin<i:  in  mind  the  ])articular  stand- 
point of  narrow  nationalism,  without  which  Talmudism  itself  could  not 
have  existed,  and  wiiich  therefore  is  not  an  accretion,  but  an  essential 
part  of  it.  But,  taken  not  in  abrupt  sentences  and  quotations,  but 
as  a  whole,  it  is  so  utterly  and  immeasurably  unlike  the  New  Testa- 
ment, that  it  is  not  easy  to  determine  which,  as  the  case  may  be,  is 
greater,  the  ignorance  or  the  presumption  of  those  who  put  them 
side  by  side.  Even  where  spiritual  life  pulsates,  it  seems  propelled 
through  valves  that  are  diseased,  and  to  send  the  ]jfe-blood  gurgling- 
back  upon  the  heart,  or  along  ossified  arteries  that  quiver  not  with 
life  at  its  touch.  And  to  the  reader  of  such  disjointed  Rabbinic 
quotations  there  is  this  further  source  of  misunderstanding,  that  the 
form  and  sound  of  loords  is  so  often  the  same  as  that  of  the  sayings  of 
Jesus,  hoM^ever  different  their  spirit.  For,  necessarily,  the  wine — be 
it  new  or  old — made  in  Judgea,  comes  to  us  in  Palistinian  vessels. 
The  new  teaching,  to  be  historically  true,  must  have  emplo.yed  the  old 
foi'uis  and  spoken  the  old  language.  But  the  ideas  underlying  terms 
e(pK\lly  employed  by  Jesus  and  the  teachers  of  Israel  are,  in  everything 
that  concerns  the  relation  of  souls  to  God,  so  absolutely  different  as 
not  to  bear  conqjarison.  Whence  otherwise  the  enmity  and  oi)i)osi- 
tion  to  Jesus  from  the  first,  and  not  only  after  His  Divine  claim  had 
been  i)ronounced?  These  two,  starting  from  principles  alien  and 
hostile,  follow  opposite  directions,  and  lead  to  other  goals.  He  who 
has  Ihirsted  and  quenched  his  thirst  at  the  living  fount  of  Christ's 
Teaching,  can  never  again  stoop  to  seek  drink  at  the  broken  cisterns 
of  Rabbinism. 

We   take   here  our   standi)oint  on   St.  Matthew's   account  of  the 
'  Sermon  on  the  Mount,'  to  which  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  by  St. 

-St.  Luke  Luke"  is  i)arallel.  Not  that  it  is  easy,  or  perhaps  even  possible,  to 
determine,  whether  all  that  is  now  grouped  in  the  'Sermon  on  the 
Mount'  was  really  spoken  by  Jesus  on  this  one  occasion.  P"'rom  the 
])lan  and  structure  of  St.  Matthew's  Gospel,  the  presumption  seems 
rather  to  the  contrary.  For.  isolated  parts  of  it  are  introduced  by 
St.  Luke  in  other  connections,  yet  quite   fitly.^     On  the  other  liand, 

'  The  reader  will  find  tliese  parallelisms       tary  for  English  Readers,  vol.   i.  of  the 
in  Dean  Pbimptn-'s  Notes  on     St.  Mat-       N.T.  \).  20). 
thew  V.  1  (in  Bishop  EUicoff's  Connnen- 


VI. 


ARKANGlvMKNT   OF   THE    'SEIJMON   ON   THE    MOUi\T.'  527 

cvou    ill    accordance    with    llic    tiaditioiial    cliaracteriHatioii  ol'  St.      CHAP. 
Matthew's  narrative,  we  expect  in  it  the  liillest  account  ol"  our  Lord's      XVHI 
Discourses/  wliile  we  also  notice   that   His  Galilean   Ministiy  forms   *— -v^*-' 
the  main  subject  of  the    First  (iospel.-     And  tliei'c   is  (nie  character- 
istic of  the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount'  which,  iiuh-ed,  throws  li<iiit  on 
the  plan  of  St.  Matthew's  work  in  its  apparent  chronoloii-ical  inversion 
of  events,  such  as  in  its  placing  the    '  Sermon  on  the  Mouni  '   before, 
the  calling  of  the  Apostles.     ^^Q  will  not  designate  the   '  Sermon  on 
the  Mount'  as  the  promulgation  of  the  New  Law,  since  that  would  be 
ii  far  too  narrow,  if  not  erroneous,  view  of  it.     But  it  certainly  seems 
to  corresi)ond  to  the  Divine   Revelation  in  the   '  Ten   Words  '  from 
Mount  Sinai.     Accordingly,  it  seems  approi)riate  that  the  (Jenesis- 
])art  ol"  St.  Matthew's  Gospel  should  ))e  innnediately  followed  by  tiie 
Exodus-i)art,  in  which  the  new  Revelation  is  placed  in  the  Ibrefront, 
to  the  seeming  breach  of  historical  order,  leaving  it  afterwards  to  be 
followed  by  an  appropriate  groui^ing  of  miracles  and  events,  which  we 
know  to  have  really  preceded  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount.' 

Very  many-sided  is  that  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount,"  so  that  ditferent 
writers,  each  viewing  it  from  his  standpoint,  have  ditferently  sketched 
its  general  outline,  and  yet  carried  to  our  minds  the  feeling  that  thus 
far  they  had  correctly  understood  it.  We  also  might  attempt  humble 
contribution  towards  tlie  same  end.  Viewing  it  in  the  light  of  the 
time,  we  might  mark  in  it  alike  advancement  on  the  Old  Testament 
(or  rather,  nnfolding  of  its  inmost,  yet  hidden  meaning),  and  contrast 
to  contemporary  Jewish  teaching.  And  here  we  would  regard  it  as 
presenting  the  full  delineation  of  the  ideal  man  of  God,  of  ])rayer,  and 
of  righteousness — in  short,  of  the  inward  and  outward  manifestation 
■of  discipleshi]).  Or  else,  keeping  l)efore  us  the  dift"erent  standpoint 
of  His  hearers,  we  might  in  this  •Sermon  "  follow  uj)  tliis  contrast  to  its 
nnderlyiiig  ideas  as  regards:  First,  tiie  right  relationship  between 
man  and  (iod.  or  true  righteousness — what  inward  gi'aces  characterise 
and  what  prospects  attach  to  it,  in  opposition  to  Jewish  views  of 
merit  and  of  reward.  Secondly,  we  would  mark  the  same  contrast 
as  regards  sin  {iKniuirfoUxjii),  temptation,  &c.  Thirdly,  we  would 
note  it,  as  regards  salvation  (soteriolof/)/):  and,  lastly,  as  regards 
what  may  be  termed  moral  theology:  personal  Ceelings,  married  and 
other  relations,  discipleship.  and  the  like.     And  in  this  great  contrast 

'  Coiiip.  Euseh.  H.  Eccl.  iii.  39.  to  tho  la^t  Pa.s.sover,  while  lie  devotes  not 

'-'  Thus  Bt.  Mivttliew  jiasses  over  those  U>ss  than  fourteen  chapters  and  a  lialf  lo 

earlier  events   in  tlie  Gospel-history  of  the  luilf-year's  activity  in  Galilee.     If  St. 

whicli  Judani  was  tlie  scene,  and  even  over  .Tolni's  is  the  .Tudtean.  St.  Matthew's  is 

the  visits  of  .Tesus  to  .Terusaleni  jirevious  \\w  Galilean  (iosiiel. 


528  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  two  points  would  iH'oiniiieiitlj  stand  out  :  New  Testament  humility, 
HI  as  opposed  to  Jewish  (the  latter  being  really  pride,  as  only  the  con- 
^— — ^'^-^  sciousncss  oi'  failure,  or  rather,  of  inadequate  perfeetness,  while  New 
Testament  humility  is  i-eally  despair  of  self);  and  again,  Jewish 
as  opposed  to  New  Testament  perfeetness  (the  former  being  an 
attempt  by  means  external  or  internal  to  strive  up  to  God:  the 
latter  a  new  life,  springing  from  God,  and  in  God).  Or,  lastly,  we 
might  view  it  as  upward  teaching  in  regard  to  God:  the  King] 
inward  teaching  in  regaril  to  man:  the  subjects  of  the  King]  and 
outward  teaching  in  regard  to  the  Church  and  the  world:  the 
boundaries  of  the  Kingdom. 

This  brings  us  to  what  alone  we  can  here  attempt:  a  general 
outline  of  the  *  Sermon  on  the  Mount. '  Its  great  subject  is  neither 
righteousness,  nor  yet  the  New  Law  (if  such  designation  be  proper 
in  regard  to  what  in  no  real  sense  is  a  Law),  but  that  which  was 
innermost  and  uppermost  in  the  Mind  of  Christ — the  Kingdom  of 
God.  Notably,  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  contains  not  any  detailed 
or  systematic  doctrinal,'  nor  any  ritual  teaching,  nor  yet  does  it 
firescribe  the  form  of  any  outward  oljservances.  This  marks,  at  least 
negatively,  a  difference  in  principle  from  all  other  teaching.  Christ 
came  to  found  a  Kingdom,  not  a  School;  to  institute  a  fellowship,  not 
to  propound  a  system.  To  the  first  disciples  all  doctrinal  teaching 
sprang  out  of  fellowship  with  Him.  They  saw  Him,  and  therefore 
believed;  they  believed,  and  therefore  learned  the  truths  connected 
with  Him,  and  springing  out  of  Him.  So  to  speak,  the  seed  of  truth 
which  fell  on  their  hearts  was  carried  thither  from  the  flower  of  His 
Person  and  Life. 

Again,  as  from  this  point  of  view  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount 
differs  from  all  contemporary  Jewish  teaching,  so  also  is  it  impossible 
to  compare  it  with  any  other  system  of  morality.  The  difference 
here  is  one  not  of  degree,  nor  even  of  kind,  but  of  standpoint.  It  is 
indeed  true,  that  the  Words  of  Jesus,  properly  understood,  marks  the 
utmost  limit  of  ail  possible  moral  conception.  But  this  point  does  not 
come  in  (piestion.  livery  nu)ral  system  is  a  road  by  which,  through 
self-denial,  discipline,  and  effort,  men  seek  to  reach  the  goal.  Christ 
begins  with  this  goal,  and  places  His  disciples  at  once  in  the  position 
to  which  all  othoi-  teachers  point  as  the  end.      They  work  up  to  the 

1  On   this   i)oint   there   seems  to   me  commonly  called  do2;mas — since,  besides 

some  confusion  of  hui.uua,2;e  on  the  i)art  St.  Matt.   vii.  22,  28.  as  Piofessor  Wac(^ 

of  controversialists.     Those  who  main-  has  so  well  nr<i'ed.  love  to  God  and  to  our 

tain  that  the  Sermon  on  the  .Mount  con-  neiijhbour  mark  both  the  startin.ii;-i)oint 

tains  no  doctrinal  elements  at  all  must  and  the  tinal  outcome  of  all  tlieolofry- 
mean     systematic    teachinsr — what    are 


ANALYSIS    OF    TIIK 


;ki;m<)N  on  tiik  moint 


529 


^oal  of  Ix'eoining'  the  'children  ol"  tlie  Kingdom;'    He  makes    men      CIIAP. 
«iieh,  freely,  and  ol' His  grace:  and  this /.s- the  Kiniidom.      Whal    the      XViii 
others  labour  for,  He  gives.     They  begin  by  demanding,  He  by  l)e-  ^— -^r— 
stowing:  because  he  brings  good  tidings  of  forgiveness  and  mercy. 
Accordingly,  in  the  real  sense,  there  is  neither  new  law  nor  moral 
system  here,  but  entrance  into  a  new  life :   '  Be  ye  therefore  perfect, 
as  your  Father  Which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect. ' 

But  if  the  Sei'uion  on  the  Mount  contains  not  a  new,  nor,  indeed, 
any  system  of  morality,  and  addresses  itself  to  a  new  condition  of 
things,  it  follows  that  the  promises  attaching,  tor  example,  to  the  so- 
called  '  Beatitudes  '  must  not  be  regarded  as  the  reward  of  the  spiritual 
state  with  which  they  are  respectively  connected,  nor  yet  as  their 
result.  It  is  not  because  a  man  is  poor  in  spirit  that  his  is  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven,  in  the  sense  that  the  one  state  will  grow  into  the  other, 
or  be  its  result;  still  less  is  the  one  the  reward  of  the  other. ^  The 
connecting  link —  so  to  speak,  the  theological  copula  between  the  '  state ' 
and  the  promise — is  in  each  case  Christ  Himself:  because  He  stands 
between  our  present  and  our  future,  and  '  has  opened  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  to  all  believers.'  Thus  the  promise  represents  the  gift  of 
grace  by  Christ  in  the  new  Kingdom,  as  adapted  to  each  case. 

It  is  Christ,  then,  as  the  King,  Who  is  here  flinging  open  the  gates 
of  His  Kingdom.  To  study  it  more  closely:  in  the  three  chapters, 
under  which  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  grouped  in  the  first  Gospel,* 
the  Kingdom  of  God  is  presented  .si*cce.s.s'iyeZ</,  progressively^  and  exten- 
sively.    Let  us  trace  this  with  the  help  of  the  text  itself. 

In  the  first  part  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount ''  the  Kingdom  of 
God  is  delineated  generally,  f^v^i  positively,  and  then  negatively,  mark- 
ing especially  how  its  righteousness  goes  deeper  than  the  mere  letter 
of  even  the  Old  Testament  Law.  It  opens  with  ten  Beatituch^s.  which 
are  the  New  Testament  counterpart  to  the  Ten  Commandments.  'I'hese 
present  to  us,  not  the  observance  of  the  Law  wi-itten  on  stone,  but 
the  realisation  of  that  Law  which,  by  the  Spirit,  is  written  on  the 
tleshly  tables  of  the  heart.' 

These  Ten  Commandments  in  the  Old  Covenant  were  preceded  l)y  a 
Prologue.'*  The  ten  Beatitudes  have,  characteristicallv.  not  a  Prologue  ''  f-x.  xix. 
but  an  Epilogue."  which  corresponds  to  the  Old  Testament  Prologue.  ^^^  ^^^^^ 
This  closes   the   first   section,  of  which  the  object  was  to  present  ^-  ^'■^-'^^ 


'clis.v.-vii. 


■St.  Matt. V. 


St.  Matt. 


'  To  adopt  tlic  lan,i;uaffe  of  St.  Tlioinas 
Aquinas — it  is  neither  meritinn  ex  co/i- 
r/ruo,  nor  yet  is  it  ex  condi(/)io.  Tlie  He- 
formers  fully  showed  not  onlv  tlie  error 


(if  Iionianisin  in  this  respect,  but  the 
untenablcness  of  the  theological  dis- 
linctidn. 


530 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANt^FIGURATlON. 


BOOK 
III 


»  TV.  21  to 

endof  ch.v. 


*  Alms,  vi. 
1-4:  Praya- 
w.  5-15 ; 
Fasting,  16- 
18 


<^  vv.  22,  23 
<!  VT.  22-24 


<■  vv.  25  to 
end  of  eh. 


the  Kiiio'doin  of  (}o(l  ill  its  cliaractcristic  features.'  But  here  it  waft 
iieeessarv,  in  order  to  mark  the  real  eoiitinuity  oftlieNcw  Testaineut 
with  the  Ohl,  to  show  the  rehitioii  of  tlio  one  to  the  other.  And  this 
is  the  object  of  verses  17  to  20,  the  hist-nientioncd  verse  forming  at 
the  same  time  a  grand  climax  and  transition  to  the  criticism  of  the 
Old  Testa iiient-LaAv  in  its  merely  literal  application,  such  as  the  Scribes 
and  I'harisees  made.''  For,  taking  even  the  letter  of  the  Law,  there 
is  not  only  ])rogression,  but  almost  contrast,  between  the  righteousness 
of  the  Kingdom  and  that  set  forth  by  the  teachers  of  Israel.  Accord- 
ingly, a  detailed  criticism  of  the  Law  noAv  follows — and  that  not  as 
interpreted  and  applied  by  'tradition,'  but  in  its  barely  literal  meaning. 
Li  this  part  of  the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount'  the  careful  reader  will 
mark  an  analogy  to  Exod.  xxi.  and  xxii. 

This  closes  the  first  part  of  the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount.'  The 
second  part  is  contained  in  St.  Matt.  vi.  Li  this  the  criticism  of  the 
Law  is  carried  deeper.  The  (piestion  now  is  not  as  concerns  the  Law 
in  its  literality,  but  as  to  what  constituted  more  than  a  mere  observance 
of  tlie  outward  commandments:  pieti/,  spirituaUty^  sanctifi/.  Three 
points  here  stood  out  specially — nay,  stand  out  still,  and  in  all  ages. 
Hence  this  criticism  was  not  only  of  special  api)licatioii  to  the  Jews, 
but  is  universal,  we  might  almost  say,  prophetic.  These  three  high 
points  are  alius,  praiier,  c\m\  fa.sf in fj — or,  to  put  the  latter  more  gener- 
ally, the  relation  of  the  jihysical  to  the  spiritual.  These  three  are 
successively  presented,  negatively  and  positively.''  But  even  so.  this 
would  have  l)een  but  the  external  aspect  of  them.  The  Kingdom  of 
God  carries  all  back  to  the  grand  underlying  ideas.  What  were  this 
or  that  mode  of  giving  alms,  unless  the  right  idea  be  apprehended,  of 
what  constitutes  riches,  and  where  they  should  be  sought  ?  This  is 
indicated  in  verses  19  to  21.  Again,  as  to  prayer:  what  matters  it  if* 
we  avoid  the  externalism  of  the  Pharisees,  or  even  catch  the  right  form 
as  set  forth  in  the  'Lord's  Prayer,'  unless  we  realise  what  underlies 
prayer?  It  is  to  lay  our  inner  man  wholly  open  to  the  light  of  (rod 
in  genuine,  earnest  simplicity,  to  lie  <[uite  shone  through  by  Ilim.'  It 
is,  moreover,  absolute  and  undi\i<l('d  self-dedication  to  God.'*  And  in 
this  lies  its  connection,  alike  with  the  spirit  that  prompts  r^/w.sr//i?/??//, 
and  with  that  which  prompts  vvi\\  fa.sfhu/.  That  which  underlies  all 
such  fasting  is  a  right  view  of  the  rclalion  in  which  the  body  with  its 
wants  stands  to  God — the  temporal  to  the  spiritual.'  It  is  the  si)irit 
of  prayer  vrhich  must  rule  alike  alms  and  fasting,  and  pervade  them: 
the  upward  look  and  self-dedication  to  God,  the  seeking  first  after  the 
Kingdom  of  God  and  His  Righteousness,  that  man.  and  self,  and  life 


.<L'l"l'UtED    lIAliDlNlC    I'AIJALI.EI.S.  ;j31 

may  bo  l)ciptizo(l  in  it.     Such  arc  the  real  alms,  the  real  prayers,  tlie     ciiAl'. 
real  lasts  of  tlic  Kiu<r(l()i!i  of  God.  XVlii 

II' we  have  riii'htly  apprehended  the  ineaninji-  oi'the  two  tirst  parts   ^— ^r^--' 
of  the  'Sermon  on  the  Mount/  we  cannot  be  at  a  loss  to  understanil 
its  tlili'd  part,  as  set  fortli  in  the  seventh  chapter  of  St.  Matthew's 
Gospel.     J3riefly,  it  is  this,  as  addressed  to  His  contemporaries,  nay, 
with  wider  application  to  the  men  of  all  times:  Firsts  the  Kin.iidom 
of  God  cannot  be  circumscribed,  as  you  would  do  it.''     Secoudlij,   it   'vn.  1-5 
cannot  be  extended,  as  you  would  do  it,  ])y  external  means,"  but  conieth   '■  vor. « 
to  us  from  God,"  and  is  entered  by  i)ersonal  determination  and  sepa-  ■  w.  t-ij 
ration.''     Thirdlij,  it  is  not  lyreaclted,  as  too  often  is  attempted,  when  ■' w.  13,  u 
thoughts  of  it  are  merely  of  the  external.''     Lastly,  it  is  not  iiiani-  'w.  15,  le 
fested  in  life  in  the  numner  too  common  among'  religionists,  but  is  ver^' 
real,  and  true,  andgood  inits  etfects.'^    And  this  Kingdom,  as  received  fw.  it-jo 
by  each  of  us,  is  like  a  solid  house  on  a  solid  foundation,  wiiich  nothing 
from  without  can  shake  or  destroy. °  .  ^^w.  24-27 

The  intinite  contrast,  just  set  forth,  between  the  Kingdom  as  pre- 
sented by  the  Christ  and  Jewish  contemporary  teaching  is  the  more 
striking,  that  it  was  expressed  in  a  form,  and  clothed  in  words  Avith 
which  all  His  hearers  were  familiar;  indeed,  in  modes  of  expression 
current  at  the  time.  It  is  this  which  has  misled  so  many  in  their 
quotations  of  Rabbinic  parallels  to  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount."  They 
perceive  outward  similarity,  and  they  straightway  set  it  (iown  to 
identity  of  spirit,  not  understanding  that  often  those  things  are  most 
unlike  in  the  spirit  of  them,  which  are  most  like  in  their  form.  No 
part  of  the  Xew  Testament  has  had  a  larger  array  of  Rabbinic 
parallels  adduced  than  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount; '  and  this,  as  we 
might  expect,  because,  in  teaching  ad(h-essed  to  His  contemi)oraries, 
Jesus  would  naturally  use  the  forms  with  which  they  were  familiar. 
Many  of  these  Rabbinic  quotations  are,  however,  entirely  inapt,  the 
similarity  lying  in  an  expression  or  turn  of  words.'  Occasionally,  the 
misleading  error  goes  even  further,  and  that  is  quoted  in  illustration 
of  Jesus'  sayings  which,  either  by  itself  or  in  the  context,  implies  quite 
the  opposite.  A  detailed  analysis  would  lead  too  far.  but  a  few  speci- 
mens will  sufficiently  illustrate  our  meaning. 

To  begin  with  the  first  Beatitude,  to  the  i)oor  in  spirit,  since  theirs 
is  the  Kingdom   of  Heaven,    this   early  Jewish  saying"   is   its  very  ''Ab.  iv.  i 
counterpart,  nuirking  not  the  optimism,  but   the  pessimism   of  life: 
'■  Ever  be  more  and  more  lowly  in  spii'it.  since  the  exj)ectaiu\v  of  man 

'  So  in  the  quotations  of  many  writers  on  tlie  subject,  notably  tliose  of  Wiinsrhe. 


o32 


FROM    J  OK  DAN    TO   THE   .MOL'NT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 

rii 


^  Vayyik. 
U.  l.ftd. 
Warsh.  p. 
2  6 


<•■  Abhodah 
Zarah 


is  to  become  the  food  of  worms. '  Another  contrast  to  Christ's  promise 
of  grace  to  the  '  poor  in  spirit '  is  presented  in  this  utterance  of  self- 
righteousness  "  on  the  part  of  Rabbi  Joshua,  who  compares  the  reward 
(",rr)  formerly  given  to  him  who  brought  one  or  another  offering 
to  the  Temple  with  tliat  of  him  who  is  of  a  lowly  mind  ("zz  inrirn), 
to  whom  it  is  reckoned  as  if  he  had  brought  all  the  sacrifices.  To  this 
the  saying  of  the  great  Hillel ''  seems  exactly  parallel:  '  My  humility  is 
my  greatness,  and  my  greatness  my  humility,'  which,  be  it  observed, 
is  elicited  by  a  Rabbinic  accommodation  of  Ps.  cxiii.,  5,  6:  'Who  is 
exalted  to  sit,  who  humbleth  himself  to  behold. '  It  is  the  omission  on 
the  part  of  modern  writers  of  this  explanatory  addition,  which  has 
given  the  saying  of  Hillel  even  the  faintest  likeness  to  the  first 
Beatitude. 

But  even  so,  what  of  the  promise  of  '  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven? ' 
What  is  the  meaning  which  Rabbinism  attaches  to  that  phrase,  and 
would  it  have  entered  the  mind  of  a  Rabbi  to  promise  what  he  under- 
stood as  the  Kingdom  to  all  men,  Gentiles  as  well  as  Jews,  who  were 
poor  in  spirit?  We  recall  here  the  fate  of  the  Gentiles  in  Messianic 
days,  and,  to  prevent  misstatements,  summarise  the  opening  pages  of 
the  Talmudic  tractate  on  Idolatry.'  At  the  beginning  of  the  coming 
era  of  the  Kingdom,  God  is  represented  as  opening  the  Torah,  and 
inviting  all  who  had  busied  themselves  Avith  it  to  come  for  their  reward. 
On  this,  nation  by  nation  appears — first,  the  Romans,  insisting  that 
all  the  great  things  they  had  done  were  only  done  for  the  sake  of 
Israel,  in  order  that  they  might  the  better  bus}'  themselves  with  the 
Torah.  Being  harshly  repulsed,  the  Persians  next  come  forward  with 
similar  claims,  encouraged  by  the  fact  that,  unlike  the  Romans,  they 
had  not  destroyed  the  Temple.  But  they  also  are  in  turn  repelled. 
Then  all  the  Gentile  nations  urge  that  the  Law  had  not  been  offered  to 
them,  which  is  proved  to  be  a  vain  contention,  since  God  had  actually 
offered  it  to  them,  but  only  Israel  had  accepted  it.  On  this  the  nations 
reply  by  a  peculiar  Rabbinic  explanation  of  P]xod.  xix.  17,  according 
to  which  God  is  actually  represented  as  having  lifted  Mount  Sinai  like 
a  cask,  and  threatened  to  put  it  over  Israel  unless  they  accepted  the 
Law.  Israel's  obedience,  therefore,  was  not  willing,  but  enforced. 
On  this  the  Almighty  proposes  to  judge  the  Gentiles  by  the  Noachic 
commandments,  although  it  is  added,  that,  even  had  they  observed 
them,  these  would  hav(!  carried  no  reward.  And,  although  it  is  a  prin- 
ciple that  even  a  heathen,  if  he  studied  the  Law,  was  to  be  esteemed 
like  the  High-Priest,  yet  it  is  argued,  with  the  most  perverse  logic, 
that  the  reward  of  heathens  who  observed  tlie  Law  must  be  less  than 


CONTRAST    IN    irM'.r.INK'    TEACIIIXi;.  533 

that  of  those  wlio  did  so  because  tlie  Law  was  jiiveii  tlieiu,  siiiee  the      CHAP, 
former  aeted  ironi  iiiii)ulse,  and  not  Iroiu  olK'dieucc!  Will 

Even  thus  I'ar  the  contrast  to  the  teaching  of  Jesus  is  tremendous.  ^— ^,'-'»-' 
A  lew  further  extracts  will  finally  point  the  dill'erence  between  the 
largeness  of  Christ's  World-Kingdom,  and  the  narrowness  of  Judaism. 
Most  painful  as  the  exhil)ition  of  i)rolanity  and  national  conceit  is,  it 
is  needful  in  order  to  refute  what  we  must  call  the  daring  assei'tion, 
that  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  or  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  had  ])een 
derived  from  Jewish  sources.  At  the  same  time  it  must  carry  to  the 
mind,  with  almost  irresistible  force,  the  question  whence,  if  not  from 
(jod,  Jesus  had  derived  His  teaching,  or  how  else  it  came  so  to  differ, 
not  in  detail,  but  in  principle  and  direction,  from  that  of  all  His 
contemporaries. 

In  the  Talmudic  passages  from  which  quotation  has  already  been 
made,  Ave  further  read  that  the  Gentiles  would  enter  into  controversy 
with  the  Almighty  about  Israel.  They  would  urge,  that  Israel  had 
not  observed  the  Law.  On  this  the  Almighty  would  propose  Himself 
to  bear  witness  for  them.  But  the  Gentiles  would  ol)ject,  that  a 
father  could  not  give  testimony  for  his  son.  Similarly,  they  would 
object  to  the  proposed  testimony  of  heaven  and  earth,  since  self- 
interest  might  compel  them  to  be  partial.  For,  according  to  Ps. 
Ixxvi.  8,  'the  earth  was  afraid,'  because,  if  Israel  had  not  accepted 
the  Law,  it  would  have  been  destroyed,  but  it  'became  still'  when  at 
Sinai  they  consented  to  it.  On  this  the  heathen  would  l)e  silenced 
out  of  the  mouth  of  their  own  witnesses,  such  as  Nimrod,  Laban, 
Potiphar,  Nebuchadnezzar,  A:e.  They  would  then  ask,  that  the  Law 
might  be  given  them,  and  promise  to  observe  it.  Although  this  was 
now  impossible,  yet  God  would,  in  His  mercy,  try  them  ))y  giving  them 
the  Feast  of  Tabernacles,  as  perhaps  the  easiest  of  all  observances. 
But  as  they  were  in  their  tabernacles,  God  would  cause  the  sun  to 
shine  forth  in  his  strength,  when  they  would  forsake  their  tabei'nacles 
in  great  indignation,  according  to  Ps.  ii.  3.  And  it  is  in  this  man- 
ner that  Rabbinism  looked  for  the  fulfilment  of  those  words  in  Ps.  ii. 
4:  '  lie  that  sitteth  in  the  lieavens  shall  laugh,  t lie  Lord  shall  have 
them  in  derision,'  this  being  the  only  occasion  on  which  God  laughed! 
And  if  it  were  urged,  that  at  the  time  of  the  ^Nfessiah  all  nations 
would  become  Jews,  this  was  indeed  true;  but  although  they  would 
adopt  Jewish  practices,  they  would  apostatise  in  the  war  of  Gog  and 
Magog,  when  again  Ps.  ii.  4  would  be  realised:  'The  Lord  si'.all 
laugh  at  them.'  And  this  is  the  teaching  which  some  writers  would 
compare  with  that  of  Christ!     hi  view  of  such  statements,  we  can 


534 


Fl{OM    JOKKAX    TO    THE    MOUNT    OF    TRANSFIGURATION. 


HOOK 
III 


Erub.  41  h 


>>  Baba  B. 
10  « 


<:  Baba  B. 
10  b ;  coinp. 
Pes.  8  a : 
Rosh  haSh. 
4  a 

•1  B.  Bath. 
u.  s. 


•■  B.  Bath, 
f  Chag.  27  a 


only  ask  witli  astonislinient:  What  Ibllowsliii)  of  si)irit  can  there  be 
between  Jewisii  teaching  and  the  first  Beatitiulei' 

It  is  the  same  sad  scU'-rigliteousness  and  utter  carnahiess  of  vicAV 
which  underlies  the  other  Rabbinic  parallels  to  the  Beatitudes, 
pointing-  to  contrast  rather  than  likeness.  Thus  the  Rabbinic 
blessedness  of  mourning  consists  in  this,  that  much  misery  here 
makes  up  for  punishment  hereafter.''  We  scarcely  wonder  that  no 
Rabbinic  parallel  can  be  found  to  the  third  Beatitude,  unless  we 
recall  the  contrast  which  assigns  in  Messianic  days  the  possession  of 
earth  to  Israel  as  a  nation.  iSlor  could  we  expect  any  parallel  to  the 
fourth  Beatitude,  to  those  who  hunger  and  thirst  after  righteousness. 
Rabbinism  would  have  quite  a  ditiercnt  idea  of  '  righteousness, '  con- 
sidered as  'good  works,'  and  chiefly  as  almsgiving  (designated  as 
Tsedaqah,  or  righteousness).  To  such  the  most  special  reward  is 
promised,  and  that  ex  opere  operator  Similarly,  Rabbinism  speaks 
of  the  perfectly  righteous  ( -v:;  p*~i)  and  the  perfectly  unrighteous, 
or  else  of  the  righteous  and  unrighteous  (according  as  the  good  or  the 
evil  might  weigh  heaviest  in  the  scale) ;  and,  besides  these,  of  a  kind 
of  middle  state.  But  such  a,  conception  as  that  of  '  hunger '  and 
'  thirst '  after  righteousness  would  have  no  place  in  the  system.  And, 
that  no  doubt  may  obtain,  this  sentence  maybe  quoted:  *He  that 
says,  I  give  this  ''Sela"  as  alms,  in  order  that  (^^y^2)  my  sons 
may  live,  and  that  I  may  merit  the  world  to  come,  behold,  this  is  the 
perfectly  righteous.'"  Along  with  such  assertions  of  Avork-righteous- 
ness  we  have  this  principle  often  repeated,  that  all  such  merit  at- 
taches only  to  Israel,  while  the  good  works  and  mercy  of  the  Gentiles 
are  actually  reckoned  to  them  as  sin,'^  though  it  is  only  fair  to  add 
that  one  voice  (that  of  Jochanan  ben  Zakkai)  is  raised  in  contradic- 
tion of  such  horrible  teaching. 

It  seems  almost  needless  to  i)rosecute  this  subject;  yet  it  may 
l)e  well  to  remark,  that  the  same  self-righteousness  attaches  to  the 
tpiality  of  mercy,  so  highly  ])rized  among  the  Jews,  and  which  is 
supi)oscd  not  only  to  luring  reward,''  but  to  atone  for  sins."  With 
regard  to  purity  of  heart,  there  is,  indeed,  a  discussion  between  the 
school    of  Shammai    and    that  of  Hillel — the  former  teachin<>:   that 


1  In  Jer.  B.  Kaiuiiiii  (1  r,  we  liavc  tliis 
sayiuii;  in  the  luuiie  of  R.  Gamaliel,  and 
therefore  near  Cliristian  times:  'When- 
soever thou  liast  mercy,  God  will  have 
mercy  upon  thee;  if  thou  hast  not  mercy, 
neither  will  God  have  mercy  ui)on  thee; ' 
to  which,  however,  this  sayinu'  of  Ral) 
must  be  put  as  a  pendent,  that  if  a  man 


lias  in  vain  sou,ii;ht  forttiveness  from  his 
nei.2;hbour,  he  is  to  get  a  whole  row  of 
men  to  try  to  assuage  his  wrath,  to  which 
.Tob  xx.xiii.  2S  applies;  the  excejition, 
however,  being,  according  to  R.  .lose, 
tliat  if  one  had  brought  an  evil  name 
upon  his  neighbour,  he  would  never  ob- 
tain forgiveness,     ."^eealso  .^ha))1).  151  b. 


THE   (iUEAT   SAYINT;   of    IIILLEL,    and   that   of   ClIULST.  535 

ii-uilty  tli()Uij;-hts  coiistitulc  sin,  wiiilc  the  hitter  (•xi)rcs.<l\    roniiiics  it  CHAP. 

to  .iicuilty  deeds/'     The  Beatitude  attaehiiig    to    peacc-iiiakiug-    has  XVIII 

many  analogies  in  Rahbinisui;  l)ut  the  latter  woidd  never  liave  con-  ^- — -^/- — " 

ucctcd  tile  desiii'nation  of  'children  ofCiod  "  with  any  but  Israel."     A  "I'msz- 

i'.i  li  and 

siniihir  remark   ai)])lics  to  the  use  of  tiu^  exijression  '  Kinii'dom  of  a " ■■  comv. 
Heaven'  in  the  next  Beatitude.  12 /< 

A  more  full  eomparison  than  has  been  made  would  almost  reijuire  ''^"•'^'  '* 
a  separate  treatise.  One  by  one,  as  we  place  the  sayings  of  the  Ra  bbis 
by  the  si<le  of  those  of  Jesus  in  this  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  we  mark 
the  same  essential  contrariety  of  spirit,  whether  as  regards  righteous- 
ness, sin,  repentance,  faith,  the  Kingdom,  alms,  prayer,  or  fasting. 
Only  two  points  may  be  specially  selected,  because  they  are  so 
frequently  brought  tbrward  by  writers  as  proof,  that  the  sayings  of 
Jesus  did  not  rise  above  those  of  the  chief  Talmndic  authorities. 
The  lirst  of  these  refers  to  the    well-known    words  of  our    Lord:''  ■  st.  Matt. 

vll.  12 

'Therefore  all  things  whatsoever  ye  wonld  tiiat  men  should  do  to 
3'ou,  do  ye  even  so  to  them:  for  this  is  the  law  and  the  prophets.' 
This  is  compared  with  the  following  Rabbinic  parallel,'*  in  which  the   'shabb. 

'"  31  a 

gentleness  of  Hillel  is  contrasted  witli  the  opposite  disposition  of 
►Shammai.  The  latter  is  said  to  have  harshly  repelled  an  intending 
proselyte,  ^\•h()  wished  to  be  taught  the  whole  Law  while  standing  on 
one  foot,  while  Hillel  received  him  with  this  saying:  '  What  is  hateful 
to  thee,  do  not  to  another.  Tliis  is  the  whole  Law,  all  else  is  only  its 
explanation.'  But  it  will  be  noticed  that  the  words  in  which  the  Law  is 
thus  summed  up  are  really  only  a  quotation  from  Tob.  iv.  15,  although 
their  presentation  as  the  substance  of  the  Law  is,  of  course,  original. 
But  apart  from  this,  the  merest  beginner  in  logic  must  perceive, 
that  there  is  a  vast  difference  between  this  negative  injunction,  or  the 
prohibition  to  do  to  others  what  is  hateful  to  ourselves,  and  tlie 
positive  direction  to  do  unto  othei-s  as  we  would  have  them  do  unto 
us.'  The  one  docs  not  rise  above  the  standpoint  of  the  Law,  being  as 
yet  far  from  that  love  wliich  w(ndd  lavish  on  others  the  good  we 
ourselves  desire,  while  the  C'hristian  saying  embodies  the  nearest 
approach  to  absolute  love  of  which  human  nature  is  capable,  nuiking 
that  the  test  of  our  conduct  to  others  which  we  ourselves  desire  to 
possess.  And.  be  it  observed,  the  Lord  does  not  put  self-love  as  the 
principle  of  oui'  conduct,  but  only  as  its  ready  test.  Besides,  the 
furthei-  explanation  in  St.  Luke  vi.  3S   should   her(^  lie  kept  in    view, 

'  As  ah-eady  stated,  it  occurs  in  this  lislicii  Ji6ax>)  tgjv  ScbSe^a  anoa- 
negative  and  unsi)iritual  form  in  Tob.  iv.  roXij^iv  U'd.  Briicmiios)  cii.  i.  It  occurs  in 
15,andis  also  so  quoted  in  the  lately  pub-      tliesunu'  form  in  Clem.  Ptrom.  ii.  c.  23. 


536  FROM   JOUDAN   TO   THE   iMOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  as  also  what  may  be  regarded  as  the  exphiiiatory  additions  in  St. 

HI  Matt.  V.  42-48„ 
^ —  ' — '  The  second  instance,  to  which  it  seems  desirable  to  advert,  is  the 

» St.  Walt.  sui)poscd  simihirity  between  petitions  in    tlie    Lord's    Prayer"  and 

vi  9-1*3 

l\abbiiiic  pra.yers.     Here,  we  may  remark,  at  the  outset,  that  both 

the  spirit  and  the  manner  of  prayer  are  presented  by  the  Rabbis 

so   externally,  and   with  sucli  details,  as  to  make   it  ({uite   different 

from  prayer  as  our  Lord  tauglit  His  disciples.     This  apjiears  from 

'•Berak-       the  Taluiudic  tractate  specially  devoted  to  that  subject,''  wliere  the 

exact  position,  the  degree  of  inclination,  and  other  trivialities,  never 

referred   to    l)y    Christ,    are    dwelt    upon    at    length  as  of  primary 

importance.'"     Most  painful,   for  example,  is  it  '  to  find  this  inter- 

^Ber.  34  a,     pretatiou  of  Hczekiah's  prayer,  "^  when  the  King  is  represented  as 

"  jer.  Ber.     apjiealing  to  the  merit  of  his  fathers,  detailing  their  greatness  in 

^ ^  contrast  to  Rahab  or  the  Shunammite,  who  yet  liad  received  a  reward, 

"■  Is.  "  •'  ' 

xxxviii.  L'.     ai)(i  closing  with  this:    '  Lord  of  the  world,  I  have  searched  the  248 

Beautitul  "^^     _ 

piayer.siu    members  which    Thou  hast  given  me,  and  not  found  that  I    have 

Ber.  16  b,  17  ;-.  ? 

a:  but  most  i:>rovoked    Tliee  to  anger  with  any  one  of  them,    how    much  more 

painful  i  t^  J  1 

Instances     tlicu  shouldcst  Thou  Oil  accouut  of  thcsc  prolong  mv  life? '     After 

very  f  re-  _  i  i^        . 

quentiy        tliis,  it  is  scarccly  necessarv  to  point  to  the  sclf-ri<i:htcousncss  which, 

occur  m  _         '  ''  *         .  .       '  . 

t^e  in  this  as  in  other  respects,  is   the  most  painful  characteristic  of 

such  as  in    iiabbinism.     That  the  warning  against  prayers  at  the  corner  of  streets 

Sliem.  R.  43  r>      o  i.        j 

f. Jer.  Ber.  was  takcii  froin  life,  appears  from  the  well-known  anecdote''  con- 
cerning one,  Rablii  Jannai,  who  was  ol)served  saying  his  jirayers  in 
the  public  streets  of  Sepplioris,  and  then  advancing  four  cubits  to 
make  the  so-called  supplementary  prayer.     Again,  a  perusal  of  some 

BBer.  29  b  of  the  rccordcd  prayers  of  the  Ralibis '  Avill  show,  how  vastly  different 
many  of  them  were  from  the  i)etitions  which  our  Lord  taught. 
Witliout  insisting  on  this,  nor  on  the  circumstance  that  all  recorded 
Talmudic  prayers  are  of  much  later  date  than  the  time  of  Jesus,  it 
may,  at  tlic  same  time,  l)e  ftvcly  adniittc^l  that  here  also  the  form, 
and  sometimes  even  the  si)ii'it,  approached  closely  to  the  words  of 
our  Lord.  On  tlu^  other  liand.  it  would  be  folly  to  deny  tliat  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  in  its  sublime  si)ii'it,  tendency,  combination,  and  suc- 
cession of  petitions,  is  unicpic;  and  that  sucli  expressions  in  it  as 
'  Our  Father. '  '  the  Kingdom, ' '  forgiveness, '  '  temptation, '  an<l  others, 
represent  in  lvabl)inism  something  entirely  ditferent  from  that  which 
our  Lord  had  in  view.  But,  even  so,  such  ])etitions  as  '  forgive  us 
our  debts,'  could,  as  has  been  shown  in  a  ])rcvious  chapter,  liave  no 
true  paralled  in  Jewish  tlieology.' 

^  For    some    intcrcst'mii;    Rabhinic    narallelri    to    th(>    Lord's    Pravcr.     see    Dr. 


LHMIT   FROM    llABIUMC   WIMTING.S   ON   THE   LANGUAGE    USED.  537 

F'ui'thcr  details  would  lead  beyond  our   present  seope.      It.  must     CIIAP. 
suffice  to  indicate  that  sucli  sayings  as  tSt.  Matt.  v.   6,  15,  17,  25,       XVIII 

29,  31,  46,  47;  vi.    8,   12,  18,   22,   24,  32;  vii.   8,    9,   10,    15,    17-19,    ^^ r ' 

22,  23,  have  no  parallel.,  in  any  real  sense,  in  Jewish  writings,  whose 
teaching,  indeed,  olten  eud)odies  opposite  ideas.  Here  it  may  ])e 
interesting,  by  one  instance,  to  show  what  kind  of  Messianic  teaching 
would  haA'(!  interested  a  Ivubl)].  In  a  passage '' which  describes  the  »Abhod. 
great  danger  of  intercourse  with  Jewish  Christians,  as  leading  to  and  27// 
heresy,  a  Habbi  is  iutrodueed,  who,  at  Sepjdioris,  had  met  one  of 
Jesus'  discijjles.  iKiine(l  Jacob,  a  '  man  of  Kefr  Sekanya,'  re[)uted  as 
working  miraculous  cures  in  the  name  of  his  Master.'  It  is  said,  that 
at  a  later  i)eriod  the  Ral)])i  sulfered  grievous  persecution,  in  punish- 
ment for  the  delight  he  had  taken  in  a  comment  on  a  certain  pas- 
sage of  Scripture,  which  Jacob  attributed  to  his  Master.  It  need 
scarcely  be  said,  that  the  whole  story  is  a  fabrication;  indeed,  the 
supposed  Christian  interpretation  is  not  even  fit  to  be  reproduced; 
and  we  only  mention  the  circumstance  as  indicating  the  contrast 
between  what  Talmudism  would  have  delighted  in  hearing  from  its 
Messiah,  and  what  Jesus  spoke. 

But  there  are  points  of  view  which  may  be  gained  from  Rabbinic 
writings,  helpful  to  the  understanding  of  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount.' 
although  not  of  its  spirit.  Some  of  these  may  here  ])e  mentioned. 
Thus,  when''  we  read  that  not  one  jot  or  tittle  shall  pass  from  the   "inSt. 

■  •'  '  .  Matt.  V.  18 

Law,  it  is  painfully  interesting  to  find  in  the  Talmud  the  following 
quotation  and  mistranslation  of  St.  Matt.  v.  17:  *  I  have  come  not  to 
diminish  from  the  Law  of  Moses,  nor  yet  have  I  come  to  add  to  the 
Law    of  Moses.'"-     But    the    Talmud    here  significantly  omits    the   ^  sbai.b. 

■  116  b 

addition  made  by  Christ,  on  which  all  depends:   Hill  all  be  fulfilled.' 

Jewish  tradition  mentions  this  very  letter  Fof? as  irremovable,''  adding,    ■^  Jw-  sanii- 

p.  20  (■ 

that  if  all  men  in  the  world  were  gathered  together  to  aljolish  the 
least  letter  in  the  Law,  they  would  not  succeed."     Not  a  letter  could  -sinr. 

'  ■  _  ,  ,  .         liaSh.  K.  on 

be  removed  from  thcLaw  ^ — a  saying  illustrated  by  this  curious  c<uiceit.    >h- v.  11. ed. 

Warsh. 
I..  27  « 

Taylors  learneil  edition  of  the  'Sayings  which  furnishes  this  meaning,  '  but  I  am    fShem.B.  G 

of  the  Jewish  Fathers,' A"'.w'//r.s7/.s-  U.  (t)p.  come  to  add.'     The  passage  occurs  in  a 

138-145).    The  reader  witl  also  find  much  very  curious  conneciion,  and  fortlie  ])ur- 

to  interest  him  in  Excio-sks  IV.  pose  of  sliowing  tlie  utter  dislionesty  of 

•  Comp.  tiie  more  full  account  of  this  Christians — a  Christian  pliilosoplier  first 

Jacob's  proposal   to    lieal    Ehnizar   ben  arguing   from    interested    'iiotives,    tiiat 

Dama  when  bitten  of  a  serpent   in  Jcr.  since  the  disitersioii  of  tlie  Jews  the  Law 

Shabb.   xiv.  end.     Kofr  Sekanya  seems  of  ^foses  was  abrogatiMl.  an<l  a  new  Law 

to  have  been   tlie  same  as  Kefr  Simai,  given:  and  the  next  (hiy,  iiaving  received 

betweenSepphorisand  Acco  (com]).  AV/'-  a  larger   l)ril)e,   reversing   his  decision, 

haiier,  Geogr.  |).  2:^4).  and  api)eaiing  to   this   rendering  of  St. 

'■'  Dp^;Y2.sr// accepts  a  difierent  reading.  Matt.  v.  17. 


538  V\Hn\    -lOUDAX    TO    TlIK    MOINT    OF    TRANSFIGUUATIOX. 

BOOK      that   the   Yod  which  was  takini  l\v  (icxl  out    oi'  tlic  uaiiie  of  Sarah 
ni         (Sarai),  was  added  to  that  of  lloshea,  inakiug  him  Joshua  (Jehoshua)." 

'^ — ~, '   Siniikirly,''  the  guilt  of  changing  those  little  hooks  ('tittles')  which 

"Sanh.         make  the  distinction  between  such  Hebrew  letters  as  -;  and  i,  n  and 

other  pas-     r,,   D  and  3,  is  declared  so  great,  that,  if  such  were  done,  the  world 

Mnvlvvik    ^^'f'uld  be  destroyed/     Again  the  thought  about  the  danger  of  those 

^'-  ^•'  who  broke   the  least   cominandnient   is    so   freciuently  expressed  in 

Jewish  writings,  as  scared}'  to  need  s})ecial  quotation.     Only,  there 

it  is  put  on  the  ground,  that  we  know  not  what  reward  may  attach  to 

<•  St.  Matt,     one  or  another  commandment.     The  expression  'they  of  old,'"'  quite 

corresponds  to  the  Rabbinic  appeal  to  those  that  had  i>roceded,  the 

Zeqenim  or  Blshonim.     In  regard  to  St.  Matt.  v.   22,  we  remember 

tliat  the  term  '  brother '  applied  only  to  Jews,  while  the  Rabbis  used 

■1  B.Kara-     to   designate   the   ignorant'' — or  those   who  did    not    believe  such 

exaggerations,  as  that   in    the  future  God  would  hiiild  u})  the  gates 

^saiiii. looa   of  Jerusalem  with   gems   thirty  cubits  high   and  broad — as  Heyqa,^ 

with   this   additional   remark,  that   on    one  sucli  occasion  the  look 

of  a  Rabbi  liad  immediately  turned  the    unbeliever  into  a  heap  of 

bones ! 

Again,    the    opproln'ious    term    'fool'    was    by    no    means  of  un- 

fsotahm.     commou   occurrcncc   among   the  sages;  "^    and  yet   tliey  themselves 

13  b  state,  that  to  give  an  opprobrious  by-name,  or  to  i)ut  another  openl}^ 

?Bab.  Mez.    to  shainc,  was  one  of  tlie  three  things  which  deserved  (Jelienna.-     To 

bottom         verse  26  the  folloAving  is  an  instructive  parallel:   •  To  one  who  had 

defrauded  the  custom-house,  it  was  said:   "Pay  the  duty."     He  said 

to  them:   "Take   all  that    I    have  with  me."     But  the   tax-gatherer 

answered  liim,    "  Thinkcst  thou,  we   ask  only  this  ime  ])ayment  ol" 

duty?     Nay,    rather,  that  duty  be  paid  for  all    the  times   in  which 

I'Pesiqt.ed.   according  to   thy  wont,   thou  hast   defrauded  the  custom-house."''' 

««&.  161a      'j^Ij^^,  ]^^^)^\Q  „|'  swearing  mentioned  in  verse   35  was  very  frequently 

adopted,  in  order  to  avoid  ])ronoun<'ing  the  Divine  Name.    Accordingly, 

they  swore  by  the  Covenant.  l)y  the  Service  of  the  Tem])le.  oi-  ])y  the 

Temjile..    l^ut  ]>ei"haps  the  usual  mode  of  swearing,  wliich  is  attributed 

even  to  the  Almighty,  is  '  By  thy  life"  (-•*-).    Lastly,  as  regards  our 

iiiithf^         Lord's  admonition,    it  is  mentioned'  as  characteristic  of  the  pious, 

:\Iiflrash(>n     .,..,•,  •  ,  i   i.i      •  • 

Kuth.iii.is   that  tlicir  •  vea  is  vea.    and  their  '  nav  nav. 


'  The  followinjj:  are  nieiitioned  as  in-  Jer.  v.  12;  2  into  D  1  Sara.  ii.  2.  It 
stance.s:  The  cliunfje  of  ~  into  T  in  oiiii;ht  to  be  marked,  tliat  lT7i«.sc/^e'iS  quo- 
Dent,  vi.  4;  of  1  into  1  in  Exod.  xx.\iv.  talions  of  these  passa,<ie.s  (Bibl.  Rabb.  on 
14;  of  n  into  H  Lev.  xxii.  ;^>2 ;  of  "  into  Shir  haSh.  R.  v.  11)  are  not  alway.-J  cor- 
n  lirst  verse  of  Ps.  cl. ;  of  2   into    2  in  rect. 


JEWISH   RATINGS   AND   THE    'SEiniOX   OX   THE    MolNT.'  539 

I*a.ssing  to  St.  Mall,  vi.,  wc  reinciiiher,  in  re<>,ar(l  to  verse  2,  that     chap. 
the  boxes  for  eliarita.l)le  eoiitriluitioiis  in  the  'renij)le  were  Irumpet-      xvni 
sliaped,  and  we  can  unikM-staiul  the  tigurative  allusion  of  Christ  to  v— -v— ' 
demonstrative  }3iety.'     The  ])arallelisnis  in  the  language  of  the  Lord's 
Prayer — at  least  so  far  as  the  wording,  not  the  s])irit,  is  concerned. 
— have  been  frequently  sliown.     If  the  closing  doxology,  '  Thine  is 
the  Kingdom,  and  the  power,  and  the  glory,"  '  were  genuine, it  would    ■  ver.  1:1 
corres})ond  to   the  common   Jewish  ascription,   from  which,   in  all 
])rol)al)ilily.    it  has  been  derived.     In  regard  to  verses  14  and  1,5. 
although   there  are  many  Jewish  i)arallels  concerning  the   need  of 
Ibrgiving  those  that  have  ofl'ended  us,  or  else  asking  forgiveness,  we 
know  what   meaning  Rabbinism   attached  to  the  tiorgiveness  of  sins. 
Similarly,  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  discuss  the  Jewish  views  concern- 
ing fasting.      In  regard  to  verses  25  and  34.  we  may  renuu-k  this  ex- 
act i)arallel: ''   '  Everv  one  who  has  a  loaf  in  his  basket,  and  sa vs.  What   "  in  sot. 
slmll  I  eat  to-morrow^  is  one  of  little  faith.      I3ut  Christianity  goes 
further  than  this.   While  the  Rabbinic  saying  only  forbids  care  when 
there  is  bread  in  the  basket,  our  Lord  would  banisli  anxious  care 
even  if  there  were  no  bread  in  the  basket.    The  expression  in  verse  34 
seems  to  be  a  Rabl)iiiic  })roverb.  Thus.'"  we  read :  •  Care  not  for  the  mor-   '  sanh. 
row,  for  ye  know  not  what  a  day  may  bring  tbrth.   rerhajis  he  may  not  be 
on  the  morrow,  and  so  have  cared  Ibr  a  world  that  does  not  exist  for 
him."  Only  here, also,  we  mark  that  Christ  significantly  says  not  as  the 
Rabbis,  but,  •  the  morrow  shall  take  tliought  for  the  things  of  itself." 

In  chapter  vii. ,  verse  2,  the  saying  about  having  it  measured  tons 
with  the  same  measure  that  we  mete,  occurs  in  precisely  the  same 
manner  in  the  Talmud,'^  and,  indeed,  seems  to  have  1)een  a  jirovcrbial    '  '^"t-  i- " 
expression.     The  illustration  in  verses  3  and  4,  al)out  the  mote  and 
the  lieain,  appears  thus  in  Rabbinic  literature:'    •  I  wonder  if  there  is  •M-nch.iei, 
any  one  in  this  generation  who  would  take  rei)roof.    If  one  said. Take 
the  mote  out  of  thine  eye,  he  would  answer,  Take  the  beam  from  out 
thine  own  eye."  On  which  the  additional  (piestion  is  raised,  whether  any 
one  in  that  generation  were  cai)able  (jf  reproving.     As  it  also  occurs 
with  onlv  triflins:  variations  in  other  iiassages,^  we  conclude  that  this   ^b.  Bath, 
also  was  a  iiroverbial  exin-ession.     Tln^  same  mavbesaid  of  "•atherinu-  ii"i--:w'': 

^  .      .  ...       Yalk.  on 

•  graj^es  of  thorns."  ^'     Similarly,  the  designation  of  •  pearls  "(verse  (!)    i^"<*» 
for  the  valuable  sayings  of  sages  is  common.     To  verse  11  there  is  a   i-pes.  49" 
realistic  parallel,'' when   it   is   related.  Hiatal  a  certain  last,  on  ac-  iinBer.  k- 
count  of  draught,  a    Ralilii  admonished  the  jieople  to  good  deeds,  on 
wliich  a  man  gave  money  to  the  woman  from  whom  he  had  been  di- 
'  See  -The  TtMiiplt\  its  Miuivtry  aii<l  Services.'  &{■..  pp.  2G.  27. 


540 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  Jer.  Ber. 
13  d,  to- 
wards the 
end 


'  In  Sukk. 
45  h  he  pro- 
poses to 
conjoin 
with  him- 
self his 
son.  in- 
stead of 
Abraham. 

<■  In  Ab.  iil. 


*  Ab.  de  R. 
Nath.  24 


vorccd,  because  she  was  in  vrant.  This  deed  was  made  a,  plea  in 
prayer  by  the  Rabbi,  that  it'  siicli  a  man  cared  for  liis  wile  who  no 
more  belonged  to  him,  how  much  more  should  the  Almighty  care  for 
the  descendants  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob.  Upon  this,  it  is 
added,  the  rain  descended  plentifully.  If  difference,  and  even  con- 
trast of  spirit,  together  with  similarity  of  form,  were  to  be  further 
pointed  out,  we  should  tlnd  it  in  connection  with  ver.se  14,  which 
speaks  of  the  fewness  of  those  saved,  and  also  verse  26,  which  refers 
to  the  absolute  need  of  doing,  as  evidence  of  sonship.  We  compare 
with  this  what  the  Talmud  '■"  says  of  Rabbi  Simeon  ben  Jochai,  whose 
worthiness  was  so  great,  that  during  his  whole  lifetime  no  rainbow 
was  needed  to  ensure  immunity  I'roni  a  flood,  and  whose  power  was 
such  that  he  could  say  to  a  valley :  Be  tilled  with  gold  dinars.  The 
same  Rabbi  was  wont  to  say :  '  I  have  seen  the  children  of  the 
world  to  come,  and  they  are  few.  If  there  are  three,  I  and  my  son 
are  of  their  number;  if  they  are  two,  I  and  my  son  are  they.'  After 
such  expression  of  boastful  self-righteousness,  so  opposed  to  the 
passage  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  of  which  it  is  supposed  to  be  the 
parallel,  we  scarcely  wonder  to  read  that,  if  Abraham  had  redeemed 
all  generations  to  that  of  Rabbi  Simon,  the  latter  claimed  to  redeem 
by  his  own  merits  all  that  followed  to  the  end  of  the  world — nay,  that 
if  Abraham  were  reluctant,  he  (Simon)  would  take  Ahijah  the  Shilo- 
nite  with  him,  and  reconcile  the  whole  world!"  Yet  we  are  asked  by 
some  to  see  in  such  Rabbinic  passages  parallels  to  the  sublime  teach- 
ing of  Christ! 

The  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount'  closes  with  a  parabolic  illustration, 
which  in  similar  form  occurs  in  Rabbinic  writings.  Thus/"  the  man 
whose  wisdom  exceeds  his  works  is  compared  to  a  tree  whose  branches 
are  many,  but  its  roots  few,  and  which  is  thus  easily  upturned  by  the 
wind;  while  he  whose  works  exceed  his  wisdom  is  likened  to  a  tree, 
whose  branches  are  few,  and  its  roots  many,  against  which  all  the 
winds  in  the  world  would  strive  in  vain.  A  still  more  close  parallel 
is  that "  in  which  the  man  who  has  good  works,  and  learns  much  in 
the  Law,  is  likened  to  one,  who  in  building  his  house  lays  stones  first. 
and  on  them  bricks,  so  that  when  the  flood  cometh  the  house  is  not 
destroyed;  while  he  who  has  not  good  work,  yet  busies  himself  much 
with  the  Law,  is  like  one  who  puts  bricks  below,  and  stones  above 
which  are  swept  away  by  the  waters.  Or  else  the  former  is  like  one 
who  puts  mortar  between  the  bricks, fastening  them  one  to  the  other: 
and  the  other  to  one  who  merely  puts  mortar  outside,  which  the  rain 
dissolves  and  washes  awav. 


JIE   TAUCIIT   THEM    NOT   AS   THE   SCRIBES. 


M\ 


The   above   comparisons  of  Rabbinic  sayings  with  those  of  our     CHAI'. 
Lord  lay  no  claim  to  completeness.      They  will,  however,  suffice  to      XVHI 
explain  and  ami)ly  to  vindicate  the  account  of  the  impression  left  '— ^y- — 
on  the  hearers  of  Jesus.       But  what,  even  more  than  all  else,  must 
hav(^  tilled  them  with  wonderment  and  awe  was,  that  He  Who  so 
taught  also  claimed  to  l)e  the  God-appointed  final  Judge  of  all,  whose 
fate  would  be  decided  not  merely  by  professed  discipleship,  but  by 
their  real  relation  to  Tlim  (St.  Matt.  vii.  21-23).       And  so  we  can 
understand  it,  that,  alike  in  regard  to  what  He  taught  and  wdiat  He 
claimed,  'The  people  were  astonished  at  His  doctrine:  for  He  taught 
them  as  One  having  authority — and  not  as  the  Scribes.''  • 

M  had  collected  a  larije  number  of  sup-  mental  position  taken  in  this  chapter, 

posed  or  real  Rabbinic  parallels  to  the  and,  indeed,  in  this  book:  the  contrariety 

'Sermon  on  the  Mount.'     But   as   they  of  spirit,  by  the  side   of  similarity  of 

would  have  occu])ied  by  far  too  large  a  form  and  expressions,  between  the  teach- 

space,  I  have  been  obliged  to  omit  all  ing  of  Jesus  and  that  of  Rabbinism. 
but  such  as  would  illustrate  the  fun  da- 


542 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


«  St.  Luke 
xl5 


b  St.  John 
iv. 


"  St.  Mark 
HI.  19-21 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

THE  RETURN  TO  CAPERNAUM — HEALING  OF  THE  CENTURION'S  SERVANT. 

(St.  Matt.  viii.  1,  5-15;  St.  Mark  iii.  20,  21;  St.  Luke  vii.  1-10.) 

We  are  once  again  in  Cai)ernaum.  It  is  remarkable  how  much,  con- 
nected not  only  with  the  Ministry  of  Jesus,  but  with  His  innermost 
Life,  gathers  around  that  little  fishing  town.  In  all  probability  its 
prosperity  was  chietiy  due  to  the  neighbouring  Tiberias,  which 
Herod  Antipas  ^  had  built,  about  ten  years  previously.  Noteworthy 
is  it  also,  how  many  of  the  most  attractive  characters  and  incidents 
in  the  Gospel-history  are  connected  with  that  Capernaum,  which,  as 
a  city,  rejected  its  own  real  glory,  and,  like  Israel,  and  for  the  same 
reason,  at  last  incurred  a  prophetic  doom  commensurate  to  its  former 
privileges." 

But  as  yet  Capernaum  was  still  'exalted  uj)  to  heaven.'  Here 
was  the  home  of  that  believing  Court-official,  whose  child  Jesus  had 
healed.''  Here  also  was  the  household  of  Peter;  and  here  the 
paralytic  had  found,  together  with  forgiveness  of  his  sins,  health  of 
body.  Its  streets,  with  their  outlook  on  the  deep  blue  Lake,  had 
been  thronged  by  eager  multitudes  in  search  of  life  to  body  and 
soul.  Here  Matthew-Levi  had  heard  and  followed  the  call  of  Jesus; 
and  here  the  good  Centurion  had  in  stillness  learned  to  love  Israel, 
and  serve  Israel's  King,  and  built  with  no  niggard  hand  that  Syna- 
gogue, most  splendid  of  those  yet  exhumed  in  Galilee,  which  had 
been  consecrated  by  the  Presence  and  Teaching  of  Jesus,  and  by 
prayers,  of  which  the  conversion  of  Jairus.  its  chief  rider,  seems  the 
blessed  answer.  And  now,  from  the  ^Nlount  of  Beatitudes,  it  was 
again  to  His  temporary  home  at  Capernaum  that  Jesus  retired." 
Yet  not  either  to  solitude  or  to  rest.  For.  of  that  multitude  which 
had  hung  entranced  on  His  Words  many  followed  Him.  and  there 
was  now  such  constant  pressure  around  Him,  that,  in  the  zeal  of 
their  attendance  upon  the  wants  and  demands  of  those  who  hungered 


'  For  a  discus-sion  of  the  i)recise  date 
of  the  bnildiiiff  of  Tiberias,  see  Sc?iurer, 
Neutest.  Zeit.2;escli.  p.  2'M,  note  2.     For 


details,  conip.  -/««.  Ant.  xviii.  2.  3;  6.  2; 
xix.  S.  1 ;  War  ii.  9.   1;  21.  ^^,  6,  9;  Life 

9.  12.  17.  C)C>,  and  many  oilier  place.s. 


HE   IS    BESIDE    lll.MSEEF 


543 


after  the  Bread  of  Life,  alike  Master  and  disciples  found  not  leisure 
so  much  as  for  the  necessary  sustenance  of  the  body. 

The  circumstances,  the  incessant  work,  and  the  all-consuming 
zeal  which  even  '  His  friends '  could  but  ill  understand,  led  to  the  ap- 
prehension— the  like  of  which  is  so  often  entertained  by  well-meaning 
persons  in  all  ages,  in  their  i)ractical  ignorance  of  the  all-engr(jssing 
but  also  sustaining  character  of  engagements  about  the  Kingdom — 
that  the  balance  of  judgment  might  be  overweighted,  and  high 
reason  brought  into  bondage  to  the  poverty  of  our  earthly  frame. 
In  its  briefness,  the  account  of  what  these  'friends,'  or  rather  'those 
from  Him' — His  home — said  and  did,  is  nujst  pictorial.  On  tidings 
reaching  theni,^  witli  reiterated,  growing,  and  perhaps  Orientally 
exaggerating  details,  they  hastened  out  of  their  house  in  a  neighbour- 
ing street^  to  take  i)ossession  of  Him,  as  if  He  had  needed  their 
charge.  It  is  not  necessary  to  include  the  Mother  of  Jesus  in  the 
number  of  those  who  actually  went.  Indeed,  the  later  express 
mention  of  His  'Mother  and  1)rethren'  *  seems  rather  opposed  to  the 
supposition.  Still  less  does  the  objection  deserve  serious  refutation,^ 
that  any  such  procedure,  assumedly,  on  the  part  of  the  Virgin- 
Mother,  would  be  incompatil)le  with  the  history  of  Jesus'  Nativity. 
For,  all  must  have  felt,  that  'the  zeal'  of  God's  House  was,  literally, 
'  consuming  '  Him,  and  tiie  other  view  of  it,  that  it  was  setting  on  fire, 
not  the  physical,  but  the  psychical  framework  of  His  humiliation, 
seems  in  no  way  inconsistent  with  what  loftiest,  though  as  yet  dim, 
thought  had  come  to  the  Virgin  about  her  Divine  Son.  On  the  other 
hand,  this  idea,  that  He  was  'beside  Himself,'  atlbrded  the  only 
explanation  of  what  otherwise  would  have  been  to  them  well-nigh 
inexplicable.  To  the  Eastern  mind  especially  this  want  of  self- 
possession,  the  being  'beside' oneself,  would  point  to  possession  by 
another — God  or  Devil.  It  was  on  the  ground  of  such  supi)ositiou 
that  the  charge  was  so  constantly  raised  l)y  the  Scribes,  and  unthink- 
ingly taken  up  by  the  i)eo])le,  that  Jesus  was  mad.  and  had  a  devil: 
not  a  demoniacal  possession,  be  it  marked,  but  possession  by  the  Devil, 
in  the  absence  of  self-possessedness.  And  hence  our  Lord  character- 
ised this  charge  as  really  ])lasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost.  And 
this  also  explains  how,  while  unable  to  deny  the  reality  of  His  Works, 
they  could  still  resist  their  evidential  force. 


CIIAl'. 
XIX 


^  I  take  this  as  the  general  meanhif?, 
although  the  interpretation  which  jiara- 
phrases  the  eXsyov  yap  ('they  said,'  ver. 
21)  as  referring  to  tlie  report  which 
reached  the  oi  nap  avrov,  seems  to  me 
strained.     Those   who   are  curious  will 


find  all  kinds  of  proposed  interpretations 
collected  in  Afei/er,  ad  loc. 

'  The  idea  that  they  were  iu  Nazareth 
seems  wholly  unfounded. 

^  Urged  even  by  ALi^yer. 


"  St.  Mark 
in.  31 


544  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  However  that  incident  nuiy  Ibr  the  present  have  ended,  it  cuiild 

ni  have  caused  but  brief  interruption  to  His  Work.  Presently  there 
^ — -r — '  came  the  summons  of  the  heatlien  Centurion  and.  the  healing  of  His 
servant,  which  both  St.  Matthew  and  St.  Luke  record,  as  specially 
bearing  on  the  progressive  unfolding  of  Christ's  Mission.  Notably — 
these  two  Evangelists;  and  notably — with  variations  due  to  the  pecu- 
liar standpoint  of  their  narratives.  No  really  serious  difficulties  will 
be  encountered  in  trying  to  harmonise  the  details  of  these  two  narra- 
tives; that  is,  if  any  one  should  attach  importance  to  such  precise 
harmony.  At  any  rate,  we  cannot  fail  to  perceive  the  reason  of  these 
variations.  Meyer  regards  the  account  of  St.  Luke  as  the  original, 
Keim  that  of  St.  Matthew — both  on  subjective  rather  than  historical 
grounds.^  But  we  may  as  well  note,  that  the  circumstance,  that  the 
event  is  passed  over  by  St.  Mark,  militates  against  the  favourite 
modern  theory  of  the  Gospels  being  derived  from  an  original  tra- 
dition (what  is  called  the  'original  Mark,'  Ur-Marcus').'^ 

If  Ave  keep  in  view  the  historical  olyect  of  St.  Matthew,  as 
primarily  addressing  himself  to  Jewish,  while  St.  Luke  wrote  more 
especially  for  Gentile  readers,  we  arrive,  at  least,  at  one  remarkable 
outcome  of  the  variations  in  their  narratives.  Strange  to  say,  the 
Judaean  Gospel  gives  the  pro-Gentile,  the  Gentile  narrative  the  pro- 
Jewish,  presentation  of  the  event.  Thus,  in  St.  Matthew  the  history 
is  throughout  sketched  as  personal  and  direct  dealing  with  the 
heathen  Centurion  on  the  part  of  Christ,  while  in  the  Gentile  narra- 
tive of  St.  Luke  the  dealing  with  the  heathen  is  throughout  indirect, 
by  the  intervention  of  Jews,  and  on  the  ground  of  the  Centurion's 
spiritual  sympathy  with  Israel.  Again,  St.  Matthew  quotes  the 
saying  of  the  Lord  which  holds  out  to  the  faith  of  Gentiles  a  blessed 
equality  with  Israel  in  the  great  hope  of  the  future,  while  it  puts  aside 
the  mere  claim  of  Israel  after  the  flesh,  and  dooms  Israel  to  certain 
judgment.  On  the  other  hand,  St.  Luke  omits  all  this.  A  strange 
inversion  it  might  seem,  that  the  Judaean  Gospel  should  contain 
what  the  Gentile  account  omits,  except  for  this,  that  St.  Matthew 
argues  with  liis  countrymen  the  real  standing  of  the  Gentiles,  while 
■  St.  Luke  pleads  with  the  Gentiles  for  sympathy  and  love  with  Jewish 
modes  of  thinking.  The  one  is  not  only  an  exposition,  but  a  justifi- 
cation, of  the  event  as  against  Israel;  the  other  an  Eirenicon,  as  well 

1  The   difficulties  which   Eehn  raises  not  .cjrounded  on  evidence, 

seem  to  me  little  deservino;  of  serious  ^  Qoaet  has  some  excellent  remarks 

treatment.      Sometimes    they    rest    on  on  this  point, 
assumptions  which,  to  say  the  least,  are 


AUTHENTICITY   OF   THE   NARRATIVE.  545 

US  a  touching  representation  of  the  plea  of  the  younger  with  his  elder     cHAP. 
])n)ther  at  the  door  of  the  Father's  House.  xix 

But  the  fundamental  truth  in  both  accounts  is  the  same;  nor  is  ^-^r — ' 
it  just  to  say  that  in  tlie  narrative  the  Gentiles  are  preferred  before 
Israel.  So  far  from  this,  their  faith  is  only  put  on  an  equality  with 
that  of  believing  Israel.  It  is  not  Israel,  but  Israel's  fleshly  claims 
and  unbelief,  that  are  rejected;  and  Gentile  faith  occupies,  not  a  new 
position  outside  Israel,  but  shares  with  Abraham,  Isaac  and  Jacob 
the  fulfilment  of  the  promise  made  to  their  faith.  Thus  we  have 
here  the  widest  Jewish  universalism,  the  true  interpretation  of 
Israel's  hope;  and  this,  even  by  the  admission  of  our  opponents,^ 
not  as  a  later  addition,  but  as  forming  part  of  Christ's  original  teach- 
ing. But  if  so,  it  revives,  only  in  accentuated  manner,  the  question: 
Whence  this  essential  difference  between  the  teaching  of  Christ  on 
this  subject,  and  that  of  contemporary  Rabbinism. 

Yet  another  point  may  be  gained  from  the  admissions  of  negative 
criticism,  at  least  on  the  part  of  its  more  thoughtful  representatives. 
Keim  is  obliged  to  acknowledge  the  authenticity  of  the  narrative. 
It  is  immaterial  here  w^hich  '  recension '  of  it  may  be  regarded  as  the 
original.  The  Christ  did  say  what  the  Gospels  represent!  But 
Strauss  has  shown,  that  in  such  case  any  natural  or  semi-natural 
explanation  of  the  healing  is  impossible.  Accordingly,  the  '  Tri- 
lemma'  left  is:  cither  Christ  was  really  what  the  Gospels  represent 
Ilim,  or  He  was  a  daring  enthusiast,  or  (saddest  of  all)  He  must  be 
regarded  as  a  conscious  impostor.  If  either  of  the  two  last  alterna- 
tives were  adopted,  it  would,  in  the  first  instance,  be  necessary  to 
point  out  some  ground  lor  the  claim  of  such  power  on  the  part  of 
Jesus.  What  could  have  prompted  Him  to  do  so?  Old  Testament 
precedent  there  was  none;  certainly  not  in  the  cure  of  Naaman  by 
Klisha.'^  And  Ra1)l)inic  parallelism  there  was  none.  For,  although 
a  sudden  cure,  and  at  a  distance,  is  related  in  connection  with  a 
Ixabbi,^  all  the  circumstances  are  absolutely  different.  In  the  Jewish  "Ber.  34  b 
story  recourse  was,  indeed,  had  to  a  Rabbi;  but  for  prayer  that  the 
sick  might  be  healed  of  God,  not  for  actual  healing  by  the  Rabbi. 
Having  prayed,  the  Rabbi  informed  the  messengers  avIio  had  come 
to  imi)lore  his  help,  that  the  fever  had  left  the  sick.  But  when 
asked  by  them  whether  he  claimed  to  be  a  prophet,  he  expressly 
repudiated  any  proplietic  knowledge,  lar  more  any  supernatural  power 
of  healing,  and  explained  that  lilierty  in  prayer  always  indicated  to 
him  that  his  prayer  had  been  answered.  All  analogy  thus  failing, 
'  So  notably  Keim.  '^  The  diflereiices  have  been  \\e\l  marked  by  Keim. 


54G 


FItO.M    JOi.'DAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


''Jos.  Ant. 
six.  9.  1,  2 


•■  Ohal 
xxvlil.  7 


the  only  explanation  left  to  negative  critieism,  in  view  of  the 
admitted  authenticity  of  the  narrative,  is,  that  the  cure  was  the 
result  of  the  psychical  influence  of  the  Centurion's  faith  and  of  that 
of  his  servant.  But  what,  in  that  case,  of  tlu;  words  wliich  Jesus 
admittedly  spoke?  Can  we,  as  some  would  have  it,  rationally  account 
for  their  use  l)y  the  circumstance  that  Jesus  had  had  experience  of 
such  psychical  influences  on  disease?  or  that  Christ's  words  were,  so 
to  speak,  only  an  aflirmation  of  the  Centurion's  faith — something 
between  a  '  benedictory  wish  '  and  an  act?  Surely,  suggestions  like 
these  carry  their  own  refutation. 

Apart,  then,  from  explanations  which  have  been  shown  untenable, 
what  is  the  impression  left  on  our  minds  of  an  event,  the  record  of 
which  is  admitted  to  be  authentic?  The  heathen  Centurion  is  a 
real  historical  personage.  He  was  captain  of  the  troop  quartered  in 
Capernaum,  and  in  the  service  of  Herod  Antipas.  AVe  know  that 
such  troops  were  chiefly  recruited  from  Samaritans  and  Gentiles  of 
Ca3sarea.''  Nor  is  there  the  slightest  evidence  that  this  Centurion 
was  a  '  proselyte  of  righteousness.'  The  accounts  both  in  St.  Matthew 
and  in  St.  Luke  are  incompatil)le  with  this  idea.  A  '  proselyte  of 
righteousness  '  could  have  had  no  reason  for  not  approaching  Christ 
directly,  nor  would  he  have  spoken  of  himself  as  '  unfit "  that  Christ 
should  come  under  his  roof.  But  such  language  quite  accorded  with 
Jewisli  notions  of  a  Gentile,  since  the  houses  of  Gentiles  were  con- 
sidered as  defiled,  and  as  defiling  those  who  entered  them.''  On  the 
other  hand,  the  '  proselytes  of  righteousness '  were  in  all  respects 
equal  to  Jews,  so  that  the  words  of  Christ  concerning  Jews  and 
Gentiles,  as  reported  by  St.  Matthew,  would  not  have  been  applic- 
able to  them.  The  Centurion  was  simply  one  who  had  learned  to 
love  Israel  and  to  reverence  Israel's  God;  one  who,  not  only  in  his 
official  position,  but  from  love  and  reverence,  had  built  that  Syna- 
gogue, of  which,  strangely  enough,  now  after  eighteen  centuries,  the 
remains,'  in  their  rich  and  elaborate  carvings  of  cornices  and  entabla- 
tures, of  capitals  and  niches,  show  w^ith  what  liberal  hand  he  had 
dealt  his  votive  offerings. 

We  know  too  little  of  the  history  of  the  man,  to  judge  what  earlier 
impulses  had  led  him  to  such  reverence  for  Israel's  God.  There 
might  have  been  something  to  incline  him  towards  it  in  his  early 
upbringing,  perhaps  in  Caesarea;  or  in  his  family  relationships; 
perhaps  in  that  very  servant  (possibly  a  Jew)  whose  implicit  obedience 
to  his  master  seems  in  part  to  have  led  him  up  to  faith  in  analogous 

1  Coiiii).  ]V(frf{'ii,  Recoverj'  of  Jerusalem,  p.  385  &c. 


THE   FAITH    Ol"   THE   (JENTH.E    CENTURION.  547 

submission  of  all  things  to  tlie  behests  of  Christ/     Thccirciunstances,      chap. 
the  times,  the  place,  the  very  position  of  the  man,  make  such  sup-       XIX 

positions  rational, even  suggest  tliem.     In  that  case, his  whole  bearing  ^— ^r — - 

would  be  consistent  with  itself,  and  with  what  we  know  of  the  views  "^t-^P'^*' 

'  y\\.  8,  last 

and  feelings  of  the  time.     In  the  place  where  the  son  of  his  fellow-  ciauHe 
official  at  the  Court  of  Herod  had  been  healed  by  the  Word  of  Jesus, 
spoken  at  a  distance,"  in  the  Capernaum  which  was  the  home  of  '-st.  John 

'  .  .  .  iv.  46-53 

Jesus  and  the  scene  of  so  many  miracles,  it  was  only  what  we  might 
expect,  that  in  such  a  case  he  should  turn  to  Jesus  and  ask  His  help. 
Quite  consistent  with  his  character  is  the  straightforwardness  of  his 
expectancy,  characteristically  illustrated  by  his  military  experience— 
what  Bengel  designates  as  the  wisdom  of  his  faith  beautifully  shining 
out  in  the  bluffness  of  the  soldier.  When  he  had  learned  to  own 
Israel's  God,  and  to  believe  in  the  absolute  unlimited  power  of  Jesus, 
no  such  difficulties  would  come  to  him,  nor,  assuredly,  such  cavils 
rise,  as  in  the  minds  of  the  Scribes,  or  even  of  the  Jewish  laity.  Nor 
is  it  even  necessary  to  suppose  that,  in  his  unlimited  faith  in  Jesus, 
the  Centurion  had  distinct  apprehension  of  His  essential  Divinity. 
In  general,  it  holds  true,  that,  throughout  the  Evangelic  history, 
belief  in  the  Divinity  of  our  Lord  was  the  outcome  of  experience  of 
His  Person  and  Work,  not  the  condition  and  postulate  of  it,  as  is 
the  case  since  the  Pentecostal  descent  of  the  Holy  Ghost  and  His 
indwelling  in  the  Church. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  the  question  with  the  Centurion  would  be: 
not.  Could  Jesus  heal  his  servant,  but,  Would  He  do  so?  And  again, 
this  other  specifically:  Since,  so  far  as  he  knew,  no  application  from 
any  in  Israel,  be  it  even  publican  or  sinner,  had  been  doomed  to  dis- 
appointment, would  he,  as  a  Gentile,  be  barred  from  share  in  this 
blessing?  was  he  'unworthy,'  or,  rather,  '  unlit '  for  it?  Thus  this 
history  presents  a  crucial  question,  not  only  as  regarded  the  character 
of  Christ's  work,  but  the  relation  to  it  of  the  Gentile  world.  Quite 
consistent  witli  this — nay,  its  necessary  outcome — were  the  scruples 
of  the  Centurion  to  make  direct,  personal  application  to  Jesus.  In 
measure  as  he  reverenced  Jesus,  would  these  scruples,  from  his  own 
standpoint,  increase.     As  the  houses  of  Gentiles  were    *  unclean,' ''  •^ohai 

xviii.  7 

entrance  into  them,  and  still  more  familiar  fellowship,  would  '  defile.' 
The  Centurion  must  have  known  this;  and  the  higher  he  placed 
Jesus  on  the  pinnacle  of  Judaism,  the  more  natural  was  it  for  hira 
to  communicate  with  Christ  through  the  elders  of  the  Jews,  and  not 
to  expect  the  Personal  Presence  of  the  Master,  even  if  the  applica- 
tion to  him  were  attended  with  success.     And  here  it  is  important 


548 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


» St.  Luke 
vii.  6 


>>  St.  Matt, 
viii.  5 


(lor  tlie  criticism  of  tliis  history)  to  luiii-k  that,  alike  in  th(!  view  ol" 
the  Centurion,  and  even  in  that  of  the  Jewish  elders  who  under- 
took his  commission,  Jesus  as  yet  occupied  the  purely  Jewish  stand- 
point. 

Closely  considered,  whatever  verbal  differences,  there  is  not  any 
real  discrepancy  in  this  respect  between  the  Judsean  presentation  of 
the  event  in  St.  Matthew  and  the  fuller  Gentile  account  of  it  by  St. 
Luke.  From  both  narratives  we  are  led  to  infer  that  the  house  of 
the  Centurion  was  not  in  Capernaum  itself,  but  in  its  immediate 
neighbourhood,  probably  on  the  road  to  Tiberias.  And  so  in  St. 
Matt.  viii.  7,  we  read  the  words  of  our  Saviour  when  consenting: 
'1,  having  come,  will  heal  him; '  just  as  in  St.  Luke's  narrative  a 
space  of  time  intervenes,  in  which  intimation  is  conveyed  to  the 
Centurion,  when  he  sends  '  friends  '  to  arrest  Christ's  actual  coming 
into  his  house.''  Nor  does  St.  Matthew  speak  of  any  actual  request 
on  the  part  of  the  Centurion,  even  though  at  lirst  sight  his  narrative 
seems  to  imply  a  personal  appearance."  The  general  statement 
'  beseeching  Him ' — although  it  is  not  added  in  what  manner,  with 
what  words,  nor  for  what  special  tiling — must  be  explained  by  the 
more  detailed  narrative  of  the  embassy  of  Jewish  Elders.^  There  is 
another  marked  agreement  in  the  seeming  difterence  of  the  two 
accounts.  In  St.  Luke's  narrative,  the  second  message  of  the 
Centurion  embodies  two  different  expressions,  which  our  Authorised 
Version  unfortunately  renders  by  the  same  word.  It  should  read: 
'  Trouble  not  Thyself,  for  I  am  not  tit  (Levitically  speaking)  that 
Thou  shouldest  enter  under  my  roof;'  Levitically,  or  Judaistically 
speaking,  my  house  is  not  a  tit  place  for  Thy  entrance;  '  wherefore 
neither  did  1  judge  myself  worthy  (spiritually,  morally,  religiously) 
[f}^i&j(rn',  pondus  habens,  ejusdem  ponderis  cum  aliquo,  pretio 
aequans]  to  come  unto  Thee.'  Now,  markedly,  in  St.  Matthew's 
presentation  of  the  same  event  to  the  Jews,  this  latter  '  Avorthiness ' 
is  omitted,  and  we  only  have  St.  Luke's  first  term,  'fit'  (iKaro?:): 
'  I  am  not  fit  that  thou  shouldest  come  under  my  roof,'  my  house  is 
unfitting  Thine  entrance.  This  seems  to  bear  out  the  reasons 
previously  indicated  for  the  characteristic  peculiarities  of  the  two 
narratives. 

But  in  their  granrl  leading  features  the  two  narratives  entirely 
agree.  There  is  earnest  sui)plication  for  his  sick,  seemingly  dying  ser- 
vant.'^    Again,  the  Centurion  in  the  fullest  sense  believes  in  the  power 


'  Witliont   the   article;    i)erli!ii).-i   only  ^  St.  Matt.  viii.  (i,  literiilly,  ■  my  servant 

some  of  them    went  on  tliis  errand   of      has  heen  thrown  down  (by   disease)  in 
mercy.  tlie  house,   paralytic'     The    /jefi\7/rai 


'WITH   AlJHAllAM,    ISAAC,   AND   JACOU    IN    THE    KINGDOM.'  549 

of  Jesus  to  heal,  in  the  same  manner  as  he  knows  his  own  coinuKinds  as  chap. 
an  officer  would  be  implicitly  obeyed;  lor,  surely,  no  tliou.iiiitrul  reader  XIX 
would  seriously  entertain  the  suggestion,  that  the  military  language  '^^—r — ' 
of  the  Centurion  only  meant,  that  he  regarded  disease  as  caused  by 
evil  demons  or  noxious  powers  v.ho  ol)eyed  Jesus,  as  soldiers  or 
servants  do  their  officer  or  master.  Such  might  have  been  the  under- 
lying Jewish  view  of  the  times;  but  the  fact,  that  in  this  very  thing 
Jesus  contrasted  the  faith  of  the  Gentile  with  that  of  Israel,  indicates 
that  the  language  in  question  must  be  taken  in  its  obvious  sense. 
But  in  his  self-acknowledged  '  untitness '  lay  the  real  '  fitness  '  of  this 
good  soldier  for  membership  with  the  true  Israel;  and  in  his  deep-felt 
'  unworthiness  '  the  real  'worthiness'  {the  ejusdem2)onder  is)  for  'the 
Kingdom  '  and  its  blessings.  It  was  this  utter  disclaimer  of  all  claim, 
outward  or  inward,  which  prompted  that  absoluteness  of  trust  which 
deemed  all  things  possible  with  Jesus,  and  marked  the  real  faith  of 
the  true  Israel.  Here  was  one,  who  was  in  the  state  described  in  the 
first  clauses  of  the  'Beatitudes,'  and  to  whom  came  the  promise  of  the 
second  clauses;  because  Christ  is  the  connecting  link  between  the 
two,  and  because  He  consciously  was  such  to  the  Centurion,  and, 
indeed,  the  only  possible  connecting  link  between  them. 

And  so  Ave  mark  it,  in  what  must  be  regarded  as  the  high-point  in 
this  history,  so  far  as  its  teaching  to  us  all,  and  therefore  the  reason 
of  its  record  in  the  New  Testament,  is  concerned:  that  participation 
in  the  blessedness  of  the  Kingdom  is  not  connected  with  any  outward 
relationship  towards  it,  nor  belongs  to  our  inward  consciousness  in 
regard  to  it;  but  is  granted  by  the  King  to  that  faith  which  in 
deepest  simplicity  realises,  and  holds  fast  by  Him.  And  yet,  although 
discarding  every  Jewish  claim  to  them — or,  it  may  be,  in  our  days, 
everything  that  is  merely  outwardly  Christian — these  blessings  are 
not  outside,  still  less  beyond,  what  was  the  hope  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment, nor  in  our  days  the  expectancy  of  the  Church,  but  are  literally 
its  fulfilment:  the  sitting  down  '  ivitJi  Abraham,  and  Isaac,  and  Jacob 
in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven.'  Higher  than,  and  beyond  this  not  even 
Christ's  provision  can  take  us. 

But   for   the   fuller   understanding   of  the   words  of  Christ,  the 

Jewish  modes  of  thought ,  which  He  used  in  illustration,  require  to  be 

briefly  explained.     It  was  a  common  belief,  that  in  the  day  of  the 

Messiah  redeemed  Israel  would  be  gathered  to  a  great  feast,  together 

with  the  patriarchs  and  heroes   of  the  Jewish  faith.     This  notion, 

which  was  but  a  coarsely  literal  application  of  such  prophetic  figui-es 

corresponds  to  the  Hebrew  '?;;"ii:.      Tlie       Peter's    mother-in-law   is   described    as 
same   word   is   used   in    ver.    14.    when       •  thrown  down  and  fever-burnin":.' 


550 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Bemid. 
R.  21,  ed. 
Warsh.  iv. 
p.  85  a,  57  a 


>>  Erub.  19  a 


'  Taiuid. 
32  h 

'1  Targ.  on 
1  Sam.  ii. 
9;  Ps. 
Ixxxviii.  12 

"•Amos.v.  20 

♦^Yalkut  11. 
p.  42  c 

Bu.  s.  niue 
lines 
higher  up 

h  St.  Matt. 
viii.  12 


as  in  Is.  xxv.  6,  liad  perhaps  yet  another  and  deeper  meaning.  As 
each  weekly  Sabbath  was  to  be  honoured  by  a  feast,  in  which  the 
best  which  the  taniily  could  procure  was  to  be  placed  on  the  board,  so 
would  the  workl's  great  Sabbath  be  marked  by  a  feast  in  which  the 
Great  Householder,  Israel's  King,  would  entertain  His  household  and 
guests.  Into  the  painfully,  and,  from  the  notions  of  the  times,  grossly 
realistic  description  of  this  feast, '^  it  is  needless  here  to  enter.  One 
thing,  however,  was  clear:  Gentiles  could  have  no  part  in  that  feast. 
In  fact,  the  shame  and  anger  of  '  these '  foes  on  seeing  the  *  table 
spread  '  for  this  Jewish  feast  was  among  the  points  specially  noticed 
as  fulfilling  the  predictions  of  Ps,  xxiii.  5."  On  this  point,  then,  the 
words  of  Jesus  in  reference  to  the  believing  Centurion  formed  the  most 
marked  contrast  to  Jewish  teaching. 

In  another  respect  also  we  mark  similar  contrariety.  When  our 
Lord  consigned  the  unbelieving  to  '  outer  darkness,  where  there  is 
weeping  and  gnashing  of  teeth,'  he  once  more  used  Jewish  language, 
only  with  opposite  application  of  it.  Gehinnom — of  which  the 
entrance,  marked  by  ever-ascending  smoke,"  was  in  the  valley  of 
Hinnom,  between  two  palm  trees — lay  beyond  '  the  mountains  of  dark- 
ness. ' '"  It  was  a  place  cf  darkness,''  to  which,  in  the  day  of  the  Lord,'' 
the  Gentiles  would  be  consigned.  "^  On  the  other  hand,  the  merit  of 
circumcision  would  in  the  day  of  the  Messiah  deliver  Jewish  sinners 
from  Gehinnom.  5  It  seems  a  moot  question,  whether  the  expression 
'  outer  darkness  '  ^  ^  may  not  have  been  intended  to  designate — 
besides  the  darkness  outside  the  lighted  house  of  the  Father,  and  even 
beyond  the  darkness  of  Gehinnom — a  place  of  hopeless,  endless  night. 
Associated  with  it  is  '  the  weeping^  and  the  gnashing  of  teeth.'  In 
Rabbinic  thought  the  former  was  connected  with  sorrow,*  the  latter 
almost  always  with  anger  ^ — not,  as  generally  supposed,  with  anguish. 


1  One  mi,i2;ht  say  that  all  the  species 
of  animals  are  put  in  requisition  for  tliis 
great  feast:  Leviathan  (B.  Bath.  75  a); 
Behemoth  (Pirlve  d.  R.  Eliez.  11):  the 
gigantic  bird  Bar  .locliani  (B.  Bath.  73  b ; 
Belvhor.  .57  6,  and  other  passages).  Simi- 
larly, fabulous  fatted  geese  are  mentioned 
— probably  for  that  feast  (B.  Batli.  7:5  h). 
The  wine  there  dispensed  had  been  Ivepl 
in  tlie  grapes  from  the  creation  of  tlie 
world  (Sanii.  9!)  a;  Targum  on  Cant.  viii. 
2);  while  there  is  dilticulty  as  to  who  is 
worthy  to  return  tlian]<s,  wlien  at  last 
the  duty  is  undei'tal<en  l)y  David,  accord- 
ing to  Ps.  cxvi.  i:^  (Fes.  119  b). 

^  All  commentators  regard  this  as  a 
contrast  to  the  light  in  the  palace,  but  so 
far  as  I  know  the  Messianic  feast  is  not 


described  as  taking  place  in  a  palace. 

■'  The  use  of  the  article  makes  it  em- 
phatic— as  Bengel  has  it:  In  hue  vita 
dolor  nondnm,  est  dolor. 

*  In  Succ.  52  a  it  is  said  that  in  the 
age  to  come  (Athid  labho)  God  would 
bring  out  the  Yetser  haRa  (evil  impulse), 
and  slaughter  it  before  the  just  and  be- 
fdi'e  the  wicked.  To  the  one  he  would 
api)ear  like  a  great  mountain,  to  the 
otlusr  like  a  small  thread.  Both  would 
weep — the  righteous  for  joy,  that  they 
had  been  able  to  subdue  so  great  a 
mounttiin;  the  wicked  for  sorrow,  that 
they  had  not  been  able  even  to  break  so 
small  a  thread. 

'"  This  is  also  the  meaning  of  the  e.\- 
pression  in  Ps.  cxii.  10.    The  verb  is  used 


•THE    (^IILDREN   OF   THE    KINGDOM'   AND    'OUTER    DARKNESS.'  55) 

To  complete  our  apprehension  of  the  contrast  between  the   views     cilAl'. 
of  tlie  Jews  and  the  teaching  of  Jesus,  we  must  bear  in  mind  that,  as       XIX 

the  Gentiles  could  not  possibly  share  in  the  feast  of  the  Messiah,  so  ' — ". — ' 
Israel  had  claim  and  title  to  it.     To  use  Rabbinic  terms,  the  former 

were  'children  of  Gehinnom,'  but  Israel  'children  of  the  Kingdom,'''  »st.  Matt. 

or,  in  strictly    Rabbinic    language,  'royal    children,' ''' children    of  bshabb 

God,'  'of  heaven,"  'children  of  the  upper  chamber'  (\hQ  Al'njali)^  ^^^-^ 

and  '  of  the  world  to  come. ' "     In  fact,  in  their  view,  God  had  first  Cil.*^^ 

sat  down  on  His  throne  as  King,  when  the  hymn  of  deliverance  (Ex.  Ab'/ili.  u 

XV.  1 )  was  raised  by  Israel — the  people  which  took  upon  itself  that  K^ioT'efr' 

yoke  of  the  Law  which  all  other  nations  of  the  world  had  rejected.'  middle 

Never,  surely,  could  the  Judaism  of  His  hearers  have  received  97//;  siicc. 

...  .  45  6 

more  rude  shock  than  by  this  inversion  of  all  their  cherished  beliefs,    e  jer.  Ber. 
There  was  a  feast  of  Messianic  fellowship,  a  recognition  on  the  part  ^^ '''  '^'^'^ 

^  Pgsio  ta 

of  the  King  of  all  His  ftiithful  subjects,  a  joj'ous  festive  gathering  i6(^;Shem. 
with  the  fathers  of  the  faith.  But  this  fellowship  was  not  of  out- 
ward, but  of  spiritual  kinship.  There  were  'children  of  the  King- 
dom,' and  there  was  an  '  outer  darkness '  with  its  anguish  and  despair. 
But  this  childship  was  of  the  Kingdom,  such  as  He  had  opened  it  to 
all  believers;  and  that  outer  darkness  theirs,  who  had  only  outward 
claims  to  present.  And  so  this  history  of  the  believing  Centurion  is 
at  the  same  time  an  application  of  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount ' — in 
this  also  aptly  following  the  order  of  its  record — and  a  further  carrying 
out  of  its  teaching.  Negatively,  it  differentiated  the  Kingdom  from 
Israel;  while,  positively,  it  placed  the  hope  of  Israel,  and  fellowship 
with  its  promises,  within  reach  of  all  faith,  whether  of  Jew  or  Gentile. 
He  Who  taught  such  new  and  strange  truth  could  never  be  called  a 
mere  reformer  of  Judaism.  There  cannot  be  'reform,'  where  all  the 
fundamental  principles  are  different.  Surely  He  was  the  Son  of  God, 
the  Messiah  of  men,  Who,  in  such  surrounding,  could  so  speak  to  Jew 
and  Gentile  of  God  and  His  Kingdom.  And  surely  also,  He,  Who 
could  so  bring  spiritual  life  to  the  dead,  could  have  no  diificulty  by  the 
same  word,  '  in  the  self-same  hour,'  to  restore  life  and  health  to  the 
servant  of  him,  whose  faith  had  inherited  the  Kingdom.  The  first 
grafted  tree  of  heathendom  that  had  so  blossomed  could  not  shake  ofF 
unripe  fruit.  If  the  teaching  of  Christ  was  new  and  was  true,  so 
must  His  work  have  been.  And  in  this  lies  the  highest  vindication 
of  this  miracle, — that  He  is  the  Miracle. 

with  this  idea  in  Acts  vii.  54,  and  in  the      12;  and   in  Rabbinical  writings,  for  ex- 
LXX.,  Job.  xvi.  9;  Ps.  xxxv.  iti;  xxxvii.      ample,  .Jer.  Keth.  :i5  b\  Shem.  R.  5,  &c. 


552  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFKUIRATION. 


1]-13 


CHAPTER  XX. 

THE  RAISING  OF  THE  YOUN(}  MAN  OF  NAIN — THE  MEETING  OF  LIFE 

AND  DEATH. 

(St.  Luke  vii.  11-17.) 

BOOK      That  early  spring-tide  in  Galilee  was  surely  the  truest  realisation  of 
III        the  picture  in  the  Song  of  Solomon,    when   earth    clad    herself   in 

— r- — '  garments  of  beauty,  and  the  air  was  melodious  with  songs  of  new 
Cant.  u.  life.''  It  seemed  as  if  each  day  marked  a  widening  circle  of  deepest 
sympathy  and  largest  power  on  the  part  of  Jesus;  as  if  each  day 
also  brought  fresh  surprise,  new  gladness;  opened  hitherto  un- 
thought-of  possibilities,  and  pointed  Israel  far  beyond  the  horizon 
of  their  narrow  expectancy.  Yesterday  it  was  the  sorrow  of  tlie 
heathen  Centurion  which  woke  an  echo  in  the  heart  of  the  Supreme 
Commander  of  life  and  death;  faith  called  ont,  owned,  and  placed 
on  the. high  platform  of  Israel's  worthies.  To-day  it  is  the  same  sorrow 
of  a  Jewish  mother,  which  touches  the  heart  of  the  Son  of  Mary, 
and  appeals  to  where  denial  is  unthinkable.  In  that  Presence  grief 
and  death  cannot  continue.  As  the  defilement  of  a  heathen  house 
could  not  attach  to  Him,  Whose  contact  changed  the  Gentile  stranger 
into  a  true  Israelite,  so  could  the  touch  of  death  not  render  unclean 
Him,  Whose  Presence  vanquished  and  changed  it  into  life.  Jesus 
could  not  enter  Nain,  and  its  people  pass  Him  to  carry  one  dead  to  the 
burying. 

For  our  i)resent  purpose  it  matters  little,  whether  it  was  the 
very  '  day  after  '  the  healing  of  the  Centurion's  servant,  or  '  shortly 
afterwards,"  that  Jesus  left  Cajiernaum  for  Nain.  Probably  it  was 
the  morrow  of  that  miracle,  and  the  fact  that  *  much  people,'  or 
rather  '  a  great  multitude,'  followed  Him,  seems  conlirmatory  of  it. 
The  way  was  long — as  we  reckon,  more  than  twenty-five  miles;  but, 
even  if  it  was  all  taken  on  foot,  there  could  be  no  difficulty  in  reach- 
ing Nain  ere  the  evening,  when  so  often  funerals  took  i)lace.   Various 

'  This  depends  on  whether  we  iidopt  the  reading  hv  ri^  or  hv  tSj  tqiji. 


NAIN.  553 

roads  lead  to,  and  from  Nuiu;'  that  which  stretches  to  the  Lake  of     cHAP. 
Galilee  and  up  to  Capernauiii  is  quite  distinctly  marked.      It  is  diffi-        XX 
cult  to  understand,  how  most  of  those  who  have  visited  the  spot  could   "- — - — -^ 
imagine  the  place,  where  Christ  met  the  funeral  })rocession,  to  have 
been  the  rock-hewn  tombs  to  the  west  of  Nain  and  towards  Naza- 
reth.^    For,  from  Capernaum  the  Lord  would  not  have  come  that 
way,  but  approach  it  from  the  north-east  by  Endor.       Hence  there 
can  be  little  doubt,  that  Canon  Tristram  correctly  identifies  the  now 
unfenced    burying-ground,  about   ten   minutes'  walk  to  the  east  of 
Nain,  as  that  whither,  on  that  spring  afternoon,  they  were  carrying 
the  widow's  son.'^     On  the  path  leading  to  it  the  Lord  of  Life  for  the 
first  time  burst  open  the  gates  of  death. 

It  is  all  desolate  now.  A  few  houses  of  mud  and  stone  with  low 
doorways,  scattered  among  heaps  of  stones  and  traces  of  walls,  is  all 
that  remains  of  what  even  these  ruins  show  to  have  been  once  a 
city,  with  walls  and  gates.*  The  rich  gardens  are  no  more,  the 
fruit  trees  cut  down,  '  and  there  is  a  painful  sense  of  desolation ' 
about  the  place,  as  if  the  breath  of  judgment  had  swept  over  it. 
And  yet  even  so  we  can  understand  its  ancient  name  of  Nain,  '  the 
pleasant,'^  which  the  Rabbis  regarded  as  fulfilling  that  part  of  the 
promise  to  Issachar:  'ke  saw  the  land  that  it  was  pleasant."*  From 
the  elevation  on  which  the  city  stood  we  look  northwards,  across  the 
wide  plain,  to  wooded  Tabor,  and  in  the  far  distance  to  snow-capped 
Hermon.  On  the  left  (in  the  west)  rise  the  hills  beyond  which 
Nazareth  lies  embosomed;  to  the  right  is  Endor;  southwards 
Shunem,  and  beyond  it  the  Plain  of  Jezreel.  By  this  path,  from 
Endor,  comes  Jesus  with  His  disciples  and  the  great  following  multi- 
tude. Here,  near  by  the  city  gate,  on  the  road  that  leads  eastwards 
to  the  old  burying-ground,  has  this  procession  of  the  '  great  multi- 
tude, '  which  accompanied  the  Prince  of  Life,  met  that  other  '  great 
multitude '  that  follow(!tl  the  dead  to  his  burying.  Which  of  the 
two  shall  give  way  to  the  other?  We  know  what  ancient  Jewish 
usage  would  have  demanded.     For,  of  all  the  duties  enjoined,  none 

1  I    cannot    uiulerstaiKl    what     Dean  issued  upon  tlie  rock-hewn  tombs. 

Stanley  means,  when  he  says  (Sinai  and  •'  'Land  of  Israel,'  pp.  129,  180. 

Palest,  p.  ,552):   'One  entrance  alone  it  ■•  Captain  f^W/^^/f'/- (Tent-Work  in  Pal.  i. 

could  liave  had.'     I  have    counted    not  jtp.  121,  122)  has  failed  to  discover  traces 

fewer  than  six  roads  leading-  to  Nain.  of  a  wall.      But  see  the  description   of 

■■*  So  Dean  Stanley,  and  even  Captain  Canon   Tn'fttrtim   (Land  of   Isr.   ii.  129) 

Conder.     Canon  Fan^fv  re,2;ards  this  as  which  I  have  followed  in  my  account, 

one  of  '  the  certain  sites.'    But,  even  ac-  ^  I  cannot  accept  the    rend(>rin,t!:  of 

cordin<>;  to  his  own  description  of  the  Nain  by  ' pascHiim.' 

route  taken  from  Capernaum,  it  is  diffi-  "  Ber.    R.    98,    ed.  Warsh.  p.   175  b: 

cult  to  understand  liow  .Jesus  could  have  .CTi  "    -n^irj  *2  yNTl  ,^N1 


554 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THK    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


liOOK 
III 


'  Ber.  28  6 


<■  Nedar.  40 
1,  lines  6 
and  7  from 
bottom 


<■  Moed  K. 
27  b 

f  Jer.  Moed. 
K.  83  d 

e  Moed  K. 
86 


•'  Rosh 
haSh  17  a 
and  other- 
wise 


more  strictly  ciirorccd  hy  every  consideruticjii  of  liuuuinity  and  piety, 
even  by  the  example  of  Uod  Himself,  than  that  of  comforting  the 
mourners  and  showing  respect  to  the  dead  by  accomi)anying  him 
to  the  burying."'  The  popular  idea,  that  the  spirit  of  the  dead 
hovered  about  the  unburied  remains,  must  have  given  intensity  to 
such  feelings. 

Putting  aside  later  superstitions,  so  little  has  changed  in  the 
Jewish  rites  and  observances  about  the  dead,-  that  from  Talmudic 
and  even  earlier  sources,'^  we  can  form  a  vivid  conception  of  what 
had  taken  place  in  Isain.  The  watchful  anxiety;  the  vain  use  of 
such  means  as  were  known,  or  within  reach  of  the  widow;  the  deep- 
ening care,  the  passionate  longing  of  the  mother  to  retain  her  one 
treasure,  her  sole  earthly  hope  and  stay;  then  the  gradual  fading 
out  of  the  light,  the  farewell,  the  terrible  burst  of  sorrow:  all  these 
would  be  common  features  in  any  such  picture.  But  here  we  have, 
besides,  the  Jewish  thoughts  of  death  and  after  death;  knowledge 
just  sufficient  to  make  afraid,  but  not  to  give  firm  consolation,  which 
would  make  even  the  most  pious  Rabbi  uncertain  of  his  future;'' 
and  then  the  desolate  thoughts  connected  in  the  Jewish  mind  with 
childlessness.  We  can  realise  it  all:  how  Jewish  ingenuity  and 
wisdom  woidd  resort  to  remedies  real  or  magical;  how  the  neigh- 
bours would  come  in  with  reverent  step,  feeling  as  if  the  very 
Shekhinah  were  unseen  at  the  head  of  the  pallet  in  that  humble 
home;*^  how  they  would  whisper  sayings  about  submission,  which, 
when  realisation  of  God's  love  is  wanting,  seem  only  to  stir  the 
heart  to  rebellion  against  absolute  power;  and  how  they  would  resort 
to  the  prayers  of  those  w^ho  were  deemed  pious  in  Nain.'' 

But  all  was  in  vain.  And  now  the  well-knoAvn  blast  of  the  horn 
has  carried  tidings,  that  once  more  the  Angel  of  Death  has  done  his 
dire  behest."  In  passionate  grief  the  mother  has  rent  her  upper 
garment.^  The  last  sad  offices  have  been  rendered  to  the  dead.  The 
body  has  been  laid  on  the  ground;  hair  and  nails  have  been  cut, ^ 
and  the  body  washed,  anointed,  and  WTapped  in  the  best  the  widow 
could  procure;  for,  the  ordinance  which  directed  that  the  dead  should 
be  buried  in  *  wrappings '  (Takhrlkhin),  or,  as  they  significantly  called 
it,  the    '  provision  for  the  journey  ■   {Zevadatha),^  of  the  most  inex- 


'  For  the  sake  of  brevity  I  must  here 
refer  to  '  Sketches  of  Jewish  Social  Life,' 
ch.  X.,  and  to  the  article  in  'The  Bible 
Educator,'  vol.  iv.  jjp.  330-33.3. 

■^  Ildneberg  (Relig.  Alterth.  j)]!.  502. 
503)  gives  the  apt  reasons  for  this. 

■'  The  Tractate  Ehhel  Rahhntin  ( ■  Great 


Mourning')  euphemistically  called  Mas.se- 
kheth  Semachoth,  '  Tractate  of  Joys.'  It 
is  already  quoted  in  the  Talmud :  com]). 
Zunz,  Gottesd.  Vortr.  p.  90,  note  d.  It 
is  inserted  in  vol.  ix.  of  the  Bab.  Talmud, 
pp.  28  a  to  31  h. 


THE    BURYING    OF   THE    Wn)0\V'S   SON. 


555 


pensive  linen,  is  of  later  date  than  our  jjci-iod.  It  is  impossible  to 
say,  whether  the  later  practice  already  prevailed,  ofcoveriuij:  the  body 
with  metal,  gias;-!,  or  salt,  and  laying  it  either  upon  earth  or  salt.^' 

And  now  the  mother  was  lett  Oneiieth  (moaning,  lamenting) — a 
term  which  distinguished  the  mourning  beibre  from  tliat  after  burial.' 
She  would  sit  on  the  floor,  neither  eat  meat,  nor  drink  wine.  What 
scanty  meal  she  would  take,  must  be  without  prayer,  in  the  house  of 
a  neighbour,  or  in  another  room,  or  at  least  with  her  back  to  the  dead." 
Pious  friends  would  render  neighbourly  offices,  or  busy  themselves 
about  the  near  funeral.  If  it  was  deemed  duty  for  the  poorest  Jew, 
on  the  death  of  his  wife,  to  provide  at  least  two  flutes  and  one  moui-n- 
ing  woman,"  we  may  feel  sure  that  the  widowed  mother  had  not 
neglected  what,  however  incongruous  or  difficult  to  procure,  might  be 
regarded  as  the  last  tokens  of  aflection.  In  all  likelihood  the  custom 
obtained  even  then,  though  in  modified  form,  to  have  funeral  orations 
at  the  grave.  For,  even  if  charity  provide<l  for  an  unknown  wayfarer 
the  simplest  funeral,  mourning-women  would  be  hired  to  chaunt  in 
weird  strains  the  lament:  'Alas,  the  lion!  alas,  the  hero! '  or  similar 
words, '^  while  great  Rabbis  were  wont  to  bespeak  for  themselves  a 
warm  funeral  oration'  {HesjK'd,  or  Hespeda).'  For,  from  the  funeral 
oration  a  nmn's  fate  in  the  other  world  might  be  inferred;'  and, 
indeed,  'the  honour  of  a  sage  was  in  his  funeral  oration.''  And  in 
this  sense  the  Talmud  answers  the  question,  whether  a  funeral  oration 
is  intended  to  honour  the  survivors  or  the  dead.= 

But  in  all  this  painful  pageantry  there  was  nothing  for  the  heart 
of  the  widow,  bereft  of  her  only  child.  We  can  follow  in  spirit  the 
mournful  procession,  as  it  started  from  the  desolate  home.  As  it 
issued,  chairs  and  couches  were  reversed,  and  laid  low.  Outside,  the 
funeral  orator,  if  such  was  employed,  preceded  the  bier,  proclaiming 
the  good  deeds  of  the  dead."  Immediately  before  the  dead  came  the 
women,  this  being  peculiar  to  Galilee,*  the  Midrash  giving  this  reason 
of  it,  that  woman  had  introduced  death  into  the  world."  The  body 
was  not,  as  afterwards  in  preference,'"  carried  in  an  ordinary  coffin  of 
wood  {Aron),  if  possible,  cedarwood — on  one  occasion,  at  least,  made 
with  holes  beneath; "  but  laid  on  a  bier,  or  in  an  open  coffin  [Mittah). 
In  former  times  a  distinction  had  been  made  in  these  biers  between 


CHAP. 
XX 


•Shabb.  151 
&;  Seinach. 
I 


''  Jer.  Ber. 


Kethub. 
V.  4 


^  Mass. 
Seniach. 
i.  S) 

•■  Sliabb. 
153  a 

f  Moed  K., 
25  a 


!■  Shabb. 
153  a 

i  Shabb. 

153  a 

k  Ber.  K.  17. 
end 

■»  Ber.  19  a 


"  -Tor.  KU. 
■Ai  I: :  Ber. 
E.  100 


•  The  mourning;  up  to  the  time  of 
burial  or  duriiii;-  the  first  day  was  termed 
Aniruth  (widowed-inournino;,  nioanluii;) 
Jer.  Horay.  4S  a.  Tlie  followinii;  three, 
seven,  or  thirty  days  (as  tiie  case  mi<i-ht 
be)  were  those  of   EbheJ.    '  mournin,<>-.' 


Otlier  forms  of  the  same  word  need  not 
be  mentioned. 

'-'  Of  these  a  number  of  instances  are 
given  in  tlie  Tainuid — tliouiili  probably 
only  of  the  prologue,  or  epilogue,  or  of 
the  most  striking  thoughts. 


556 


FI{()M  JORDAN  TO  THE  MOUNT  OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


i"  Moed  K. 
27  a  anil  l> 

"  Semacli. 

C.  8 


>"  Bez.  6  a 
NkUl.  37  a 

«  Moed  K. 
27  b ;  Ber. 
63  a 


f  Jer. 
ii.  7 


Sheq. 


e  Ber.  ill.  1 


»■  Ber.  18  a 


i  Jer.  Sot. 
17  6,  end 


rich  and  poor,  'riio  foriiici'  were  carried  on  tlie  «o-ealle(l  JJargash — 
as  it  were,  in  state — while  the  poor  were  conveyed  in  a  )-eccptacle 
made  of  wickerwork  {Kelibha  or  Kelikhah),  having  sometimes  at  the 
loot  what  was  termed  'a  horn,'  to  wliicli  the  body  was  made  fast/ 
l>ut  this  distinction  between  ri(;h  and  poor  was  abolished  by  Rabbinic 
oi'dinance,  and  l)oth  alike,  if  carried  on  a  bier,  were  laid  in  tliat 
made  of  wickerwork.''  Commonly,  though  not  in  later  practice,  the 
face  of  the  dead  body  was  uncovered.''  The  body  lay  with  its  face 
turned  up,  and  his  hands  folded  on  the  breast.  We  may  add,  that 
when  a  person  had  died  unmarried  or  childless,  it  was  customary  to  j)ut 
into  the  coffin  something  distinctive  of  them,  such  as  pen  and  ink,  or 
a  key.  Over  the  coffins  of  bride  or  bridegroom  a  baldachino  was  carried. 
Sometimes  the  coffin  was  garlanded  with  myrtle.'*  In  exceptional 
cases  we  read  of  the  use  of  incense,"  and  even  of  a  kind  of  libation.' 

We  cannot,  then,  be  mistaken  in  supposing  that  the  body  of  the 
widow's  son  was  laid  on  the  '  bed  '  {3Iittah),  or  in  the  '  willow  basket,' 
already  described  (Kelibha,  from  Kelubh).^  Nor  can  Ave  doubt  that 
the  ends  or  handles  were  borne  by  friends  and  neighbours,  different 
parties  of  bearers,  all  of  them  unshod,  at  frequent  intervals  relieving 
each  other,  so  that  as  many  as  possible  might  share  in  the  good 
work.'  During  these  pauses  there  was  loud  lamentation;  but  this 
custom  was  not  observed  in  the  burial  of  women.  Behind  the  bier 
walked  the  relatives,  friends,  and  then  the  sympathising  'multitude.' 
For  it  was  deemed  like  mocking  one's  Creator  not  to  follow  the  dead 
to  his  last  resting-place,  and  to  all  such  want  of  reverence  Prov.  xvii. 
5  was  applied.*'  If  one  were  absolutely  prevented  from  joining  the 
procession,  although  for  its  sake  all  work,  even  study,  should  be 
interrupted,  reverence  should  at  least  be  shown  by  rising  up  before 
the  dead.'  And  so  they  would  go  on  to  what  the  Hebrews  beautifully 
designated  as  the  '  house  of  assembly  '  or  '  meeting, '  the  '  hostelry, '  the 
'  place  of  rest,'  or  'of  freedom,'  the  '  field  of  weepers,'  the  '  house  of 
eternity,'  or  '  of  life.' 

We  can  now  transport  ourselves  into  that  scene.-  Up  from  the 
city  close  by  came  this  '  great  multitude  '  that  followed  the  dead, 
with  lamentations,  wild  chaunts  of  mourning  women,  ^  accompanied 


'  It  is  evident  the  yoniifi;  man  could 
not  have  been  'oofiined,'  or  it  would 
have  been  impossible  for  him  to  sit  up  at 
Christ's  biddinij.  I  must  difter  from  tlie 
learned  Delitzsch,  who  uses  the  word 
pIN  in  translatinfj;  aop6<i.  Very  re- 
markable also  it  seems  to  me,  that  those 
who  advocate  wicker-basket  interments 


are  without  knowing  it,  resorting  to  the 
old  Jewisli  practice. 

2  Sometimes  the  lament  was  chaunted 
simply  in  chorus,  at  others  one  woman 
began  and  then  the  rest  joined  in  chorus. 
The  latter  was  distinctively  termed  the 
Qinah,  see  Moed  K.  iii.  9. 


'BE   NOT  WEEPING!'  557 

by  flutes  and  the  melancholy  tinkle  of  cymbals,  perhni)s  l)y  tnim-     chap. 
pets/'   amidst  expressions  of  general  sympathy.     Along  the   road        XX 

from  Endor  streamed  the  great  multitude  which  followed  the  'Prince  ' r — ' 

of  Life.'     Here  they  met:  Life  and  Death.     The  connecting  link  l)e-   'Keth. 
tween  tliem  wiss  the  deci:)  sorrow  of  the  widowed  mother.     He  recos'-  Moeu  k. 
nised  her  as  she  went  before  the  bier,  leading  him  to  the  grave  whom 
she  had  brought  into  life.     He  recognised  her,  but  she  recognised 
Him  not,  had  not  even  seen  Him.     She  was  still  weeping;  even  after 
He  had  hastened  a  step  or  two  in  advance  of  His  followers,  quite 
close  to  her,  she  did  not  heed  Him,  and  was  still  weeping.     But, 
'beholding  her,'  the  Lord-  'had  compassion  on  her.'     Those  bitter, 
silent  tears  Avhich  blinded  her  eyes  were  strongest  language  of  de- 
spair and  utmost  need,  which  never  in  vain  appeals  to  His  heart, 
Who  has  borne  our  sorrows.     We  remember,  by  way  of  contrast,  the 
common  formula  used  at  funerals  in  Palestine,  'Weep  with  them, 'all 
ye  who  are  bitter  of  heart!'"     It  was  not  so  that  Jesus  spoke  to  1. MoeuK. s 
those  around,  nor  to  her,  but  characteristically:   'Be  not  weeping."-'  andTfrom 
And  what  He  said,  that  He  wrought.     He  touched  the  bier — per-  ^°"*''" 
haps   the   very   wicker  basket   in  wliich  the   dead  youth  lay.     He 
dreaded  not  the  greatest  of  all  defilements, — that  of  contact  with  the 
dead,*"  which  Rabbinism,  in  its  elaboration  of  the  letter  of  the  Law,    '  Kei.  i 
had  surrounded  with  endless  terrors.     His  Avas  other  separation  than 
of  the  Pharisees:  not  that  of  submission  to  ordinances,  l)ut  of  con- 
quest of  what  made  them  necessary. 

And  as  He  touched  the  bier,  they  who  bore  it  stood  still.  They 
could  not  have  anticipated  what  would  follow.  But  the  awe  of  the 
coming  wonder — as  it  were,  the  shadow  of  the  opening  gates  of  life, 
had  fallen  on  them.  One  word  of  sovereign  comman(l,  'and  he  that 
was  dead  sat  up,  and  began  to  speak.'  Not  of  that  world  of  wliich 
he  had  had  brief  glimpse.  For,  as  one  who  suddenly  ])asses  from 
dream-vision  to  waking,  in  the  abruptness  of  the  transition,  loses 
what  he  had  seen,  so  he,  who  from  that  dazzling  brightness  was  hur- 
ried back  to  the  dim  light  to  which  his  vision  had  been  accustomed. 
It  must  have  seemed  to  him,  as  if  he  woke  from  long  sleej).  Where 
was  he  now?  who  those  around  \\\\\\'.  what  this  strange  ass(Mnl)lage'r 
and  Who  He,  Whose  Light  and  Life  seemed  to  fall  u))on  him/ 

And  still  was  Jesus  the  link  between  the  mother  and  the  sou,  w!io 

'  Apparently  sonietinios   turclics  were  ■■  So  literally.     We  liei'e  recall  the  un- 
used at  funerals  (Ber.  5:^  cO-  feeliiin'   threats    by   K.  lluna    of    I'urther 

''■  The  term  K't'pzoS  for    -the  Lord'    is  hereavenients    to    a     niotlier    who    we))! 

peculiar   to    St.   Luke  and  St.    .lohn-    a  very  nmch,   and    theii-   fnllilment    iMocd. 

sisniticant  conjunction,      it   occurs   (nily  K.  '_'7  /'). 
once  ill  St.  Mark  (xvi.  1'.)). 


;-)5S  FROM    .loKDAX    TO    THK    .MOl'XT   OF    TlJAXSFIGrRATION. 

l{OOK       liii'l  ii.iiaiii  round  each  other.      And  so,  in  the  tnicst  sense,  'Jle  gave 
III  him  '  to  his  mother."     Can  an}'  one  doubt  tiiat  mother  and  son  hence- 

'>— -^- —  forth  owned,  h)ve(l,  and  trusted  Him  as  the  true  Messiah?  If  tliere 
was  no  moral  motive  for  this  niiraeh-,  outside  Christ's  S3'nii)athy  with 
intense  sutl'ering  and  tlie  bereavement  of  deatli,  was  tliere  no  moral 
I'esult  as  the  outcouK!  of  it?  II"  nujtlier  and  son  had  not  called 
upon  llim  before  the  mij'aele,  would  they  not  henceforth  and  for  ever 
call  ui)on  Him?  And  if  there  was,  so  to  si)eak,  inward  necessity, 
that  Life  Incarnate  should  conquer  death — symbolic  and  typic  neces- 
sity of  it  also — was  not  everything  here  congruous  to  the  central 
I'act  in  this  history?  The  simplicity  and  absence  ol'  all  extravagant 
details;  the  Divine  calmness  and  majesty  on  the  pait  of  the  Christ, 
so  different  from  the  manner  in  which  legend  would  have  coloured  the 
scene,  even  from  the  intense  agitation  which  characterised  the  con- 
dm't  of  an  Elijah,  an  Elislia,  or  a  Peter,  in  somewhat  similar  circum- 
stances; and,  lastly,  the  beauteous  harmony  where  all  is  in  accord, 
from  the  tirst  touch  of  compassion  till  when,  forgetful  of  the  bystand- 
ers, heedless  of  'effect,'  He  gives  the  son  Inick  to  his  mother^are 
not  all  these  worthy  of  the  event,  and  evidential  of  the  truth  of  the 
narrative? 

But,  after  all,  may  we  regard  this  iiistory  as  real — and,  if  so, 
what  are  its  lessons?'*  On  one  point,  at  least,  all  serious  critics  are 
now  agreed.  It  is  impossible  to  ascribe  it  to  exaggeration,  or  to 
explain  it  on  natural  grounds.  The  onlj^  alternative  is  t(->  regard  it 
either  as  true,  or  as  designedly  false.  Be  it,  moreover,  remembered, 
that  not  only  one  Gospel,  but  all,  relate  some  story  of  raising  the 
dead — whether  that  of  this  youth,  of  Jairus'  daughter,  or  of  Lazarus. 
They  also  all  relate  the  Resurrection  of  the  Christ,  which  really 
underlies  those  other  miracles.  But  if  this  history  of  the  raising 
of  the  young  man  is  false,  Avhat  motive  can  l)e  suggested  for  its  in- 
vention, for  motive  there  must  have  been  for  it?  Assuredly,  it  was  no 
])art  of  Jewish  expectancy  concerning  the  Messiah,  that  He  would 
perform  such  a  miracle.  And  negative  criticism  has  admitted," 
that  the  differences  between  this  history  and  the  raising  of  the  dead 
))y  Elijah  or  Elisha  are  so  numerous  and  great,  that  these  narratives 

'  So  1  item lly  -anil  vi'i-y  si^iiillcinitl\ .  iiucstioii  of  tlie  crodibility  of  such  a 
-'  Minor  ditiicultic.s  may  ix'  nmdily  miracle,  suice  similar  miracles  are  re- 
dismissed.  Such  is  the  ((iiestion.  wliy  lated  in  all  the  four  Gospels, 
tins  miracle  has  not  been  recorded  by  •'  So  Keim,  who  finally  arrives  at  the 
St.  Matthew.  Possibly  St.  Matthew  may  conclusion  that  the  event  is  fictitious. 
have  remained  a  day  tjehind  in  Caper-  His  account  seems  to  me  painfully  un- 
nauMi.  In  any  case,  the  omission  eainiot  fair,  as  well  as  luisatisfactory  in  the  e.\- 
be  of    real    importance    as    reiiards    the  trenie. 


HVIDKNCI':    Oi'    THIS    MIRACLE.  559 

cauuot  he  ivgarded  as  sii^'^csliuii"  that  of  Hit'  I'aisiiig- of  tin- yoiiii.u-      ciiAl'. 

uuiu  ol"  Naiii.      ^V^'  ask  a^aiii:   NN'heiice,  tliuu,  tliis  history,  if  it  was        XX 

not  true?     It  is  au  in«i-eiiious  historical  suggestion — rather  an  ad-  ^— -y^ — ' 

mission  In'  negative  eritieisui  ^ — that  so  insigniticant,  and  otherwise 

unknown,  a  phice  as  Nain  woukl  not  have  been  fixed  upon  as  the  site 

of  this  miracle,  if  some  great  event    had  not  occurred    there  which 

made   lasting    impression  on  the   mind  of  the    Church.     What  was 

that  event,  and  does  not  the  reading  of  this  record  carry  conviction 

of  its  truth  '     Legends  have  not  been  so  written.     Once  more,   the 

miracle  is  described  as  having  taken  place,  not  in  the  seclusion  of  a 

chamber,  nor  before  a  few  interested  witnesses,  but  in  sight  of  the 

great  multitude  which  had  followed  Jesus,  and  of  that  other  great 

multitude  which  came  from  Cana.    In  this  twofold  great  multitude  was 

there  none,  from  whom  the  enemies  of  Christianity  could  have  wrung 

contradiction,  if  the  narrative  was  false?     Still  further,   the  history 

is  told  with  such  circumstantiality  of  details,  as  to  be  inconsistent 

with  the  theory  of  a  later  invention.     Lastly,  no  one  will  question, 

that   ))elief  in  the   reality   of  such   'raising  from  the  dead'  was  a 

prinud  article  in  the  faith  of  the  primitive  Church,  for  which — as  a 

fact,  not  a  possibility — all  were  ready  to  offer  up  their  lives.     Nor 

should  we  forget  that,  in  one  of  the  earliest  apologies  addressed  to 

the  R(jman  Emperor,  Quddratus  appealed  to  the  fact,  that,  of  those 

who  had  heen  healed  or  raised  from  the  dead  by  Christ,  some  were 

still  alive,  and  all  were  well  known.'     On  the  other  hand,  the  only    '£«»•-*. 

.  .  •         •       T   1     .•    ,.  ■        I       T.^-  1  Hist.  Eccl. 

real  ground  for  rejecting  this  narrative  is  disbeliei  in  the  Miraculous,  iv.  a 
including,  of  course,  rejection  of  the  Christ  as  the  Miracle  of 
Miracles.  But  is  it  not  vicious  reasoning  in  a  circle,  as  well  as 
begging  the  question,  to  reject  the  Miraculous  because  we  discredit 
the  Miraculous?  and  does  not  such  rejection  involve  much  more  of 
the  incredible  than  faith  itself? 

And  so,  with  all  Christendom,  we  gladly  take  it,  in  simplicity  of 
faith,  as  a  true  record  by  tj-ue  men — all  the  more,  that  they  who  told 
it  knew  it  to  be  so  incredible,  as  not  onlv  to  provoke  scorn,"  but  to  'Acts  xvii. 

'  ■        .    .  -i'i  •■  xxvl.  8 : 

e.\pose  them  to  the  charge  of  cunningly  devising  fables.'     liut   they  icor.  xv. 

who  believe,  see  in  this  history,  how  the  Divine  Conqueror,   in  His   .jivt.  i.ic 

accidental  meeting  with  Death,  with  mighty   arm    rolled  back  the 

tide,  and  how  through  the  portals  of  heaven  which  He  opened  stole 

in  upon  our  world  the  first  beam  of  the  new  day.     Yet  another — in 

some  sense  lower,  in  another,  practically  higher — lesson  do  we  learn. 

For,  this  meeting  of  the  two  ]irocessions  outside  the  gate  of  Xaiu 

'  This  is  till'  ailmissidii  of  Ki'htt. 


560  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  was  accidental,  jet  not  in  tlic  conventional  sinise.  Xcither  the 
III  arrival  of  Jesus  at  that  place  and  time,  nor  that  of  the  funeral  pro- 
'^--'"Y^'-^  cession  Ironi  Nain,  nor  their  meeting,  was  either  designed  or  else 
uiiraeulous.  Both  liapjx'ned  in  the  natural  eoui'se  of  natural  events, 
but  their  concurrence  [crvyKvpla^)  was  desifjiied,  and  directly  God- 
caused.  In  this  God-caused,  designed  concurrence  of  events,  in 
themselves  ordinary  and  natural,  lies  tlie  mystery  of  special  Provi- 
dences, which,  to  wliomsoever  they  happen,  he  may  and  should  regard 
them  as  miracles  and  answer  to  prayer.  And  this  principle  extends 
much  iartiier:  to  the  i)i-ayer  foi-,  and  provision  of,  daily  bread,  nay,  to 
mostly  all  things,  so  that,  to  those  who  have  ears  to  hear,  all  things 
around  speak  in  i)arables  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

But  on  those  who  saw  this  miracle  at  Nain  fell  the  fear  ^  of  the 
felt  Divine  Presence,  and  over  their  souls  swept  the  hymn  of  Divine 
praise:  fear,  because '^  a  great  Prophet  was  risen  up  among  them; 
praise,  because  God  had  visited  *  His  people.  And  further  and  wider 
spread  the  wave — over  Judaja,  and  beyond  it,  until  it  washed,  and 
broke  in  faint  murmur  against  the  ])rison-walls,  within  which  the 
Baptist  awaited  his  nnirtyrdom.  Was  He  then  the  'Coming  One?' 
and,  if  so,  why  did,  or  how  could,  those  walls  keep  His  messenger 
within  gras])  of  the  tyrant?^ 

'  The  term  avyKvpia  rendered  in  the         *  Signilicautiy,  the  same  expression  as 

A.V.    -chance'  (St.  Luke  x.  31),   means  in  St.  Luke  i.  68. 

literally,  the  coming  together,  the  meet-  ■''  The  embassy  of  the  Baptist  will  be 

ing,  or  concurrence  of  events.  described  in  connection  with  the  account 

^  Lit.  'fear  took  all.'  of  his  martyrdom. 

■'  on. 


CHliONOLOGICAL   ARRANGEMENT.  561 


CHAPTKR   XXI. 

THP]     WOMAN    WHICH    WAS     A     SINNER. 

(>St.   Luke  vii.  3(5-50.) 

The  precise  date  and  i)lace  of  the  next  recorded  event  in  this  Galilean  chap. 
journey  of  the  Christ  are  left  undetermined.  It  can  scarcely  have  XXI 
occurred  in  tlie  quiet  little  town  of  Nain,  indeed,  is  scarcely  con-  ^— >'— i— 
gruous  with  the  scene  which  had  been  there  enacted.  And  yet  it  must 
have  tbllowed  almost  immediately  upon  it.  We  infer  this,  not  only 
from  the  silence  of  St.  Matthew,  which  in  this  instance  might  have 
been  due,  not  to  the  temporary  detention  of  that  Evangelist  in  Caper- 
naum, while  the  others  had  followed  Christ  to  Nain,  but  to  what  may 
be  called  the  sparingness  of  detail  in  the  Gospel-narratives,  each 
Evangelist  relating  mostly  only  one  in  a  group  of  kindred  events.^ 
But  other  indications  determine  our  inference.  The  endiass^^  of  the 
Baptist's  disciples  (which  will  be  described  in  another  connection^) 
undoubtedly  followed  on  the  raising  of  the  young  man  of  Nain.  This 
embassy  would  scarcely  liave  come  to  Jesus  in  Nain.  It  probably 
reached  Him  on  His  farther  Missionary  journey,  to  which  there  seems 
some  reference  in  the  passage  in  the  First  Gosi)eP  which  succeeds  the  »st.  Matt. 

'  ^  '  xi.  20-30 

account  of  that  embassy.  The  actual  words  there  recorded  can,  in- 
deed, scarcely  have  been  spoken  at  that  time.  They  belong  to  a  later 
period  on  that  Mission-journey,  and  mark  more  fully  develo})ed 
opposition  and  rejection  of  the  Christ  than  in  those  early  days. 
Chronologically,  they  are  in  their  proi)er  place  in  St.  Luke's  Gospel,"  '"^Jij^o''^ 
where  they  follow  in  connection  with  that  Mission  of  the  Seventy, 
which,  in  part  at  least,  was  prompted  by  the  growing  enmity  to  the 
Person  of  Jesus.  On  the  other  hand,  this  Mission  of  the  Seventy,  is 
not  recorded  by  St.  Matthew.  Accordingly,  he  inserts  those  prophetic 
denunciations  which,  according  to  the  plan  of  his  Gospel,  could  not 
have   been  omitted,  at   the  beginning  of  this  Missionary  journey, 

•  This  Is  specially  ciuiracteiistic  of  the  Gospel  by  St.  Luke. 
^  See  note  in  i)revious  chai>ter. 


)fi2 


FROM    JORDAN    To    TIIK    MOIXT    OF    TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  St.  Matt. 
xi.  16-19 


*■  St.  Matt. 
xl.  2&-30 


<■  St.  Luke 
Tii.  36 


hccausc  it  marks  the  be'i'inninii'  oftliat  systematic  ojiijositioii.-'  tlicfull 
(level()i)meut  of  wliicli.  as  already  stated,  jji-ompted  tlie  Mission  of 
llie  Seventy. 

Vet,  even  so,  tlie  impression  left  u[)on  us  l)y  St.  Matt.  xi.  '2()-:^() 
(which  Ibllows  oil  the  aeeouut  of  tlie  Baptist's  cmhassy)  is,  that  Jesus 
was  ou  a  journey,  and  it  uiay  well  be  that  tliose  precious  words  of  en- 
couraii'enu'ut  and  invitation,  spoken  to  the  burdened  and  wearily 
labouring:,''  formed  part,  i)erha})s  the  substance,  of  His  preaching- 
on  that  journey.  Truly  these  were  'good  tidings,"  and  not  only  to 
those  borne  down  by  weiglit  of  conscious  sinfulness  oi'  deep  sorrow, 
who  wearily  toiled  towards  the  light  of  far-ofl'  peace,  or  those  dreamt- 
of  lieights  where  some  comprehensive  view  might  be  gained  of  life 
with  its  labours  and  pangs.  '  Good  news,'  also,  to  them  who  would 
fain  have  '  learned  '  according  to  their  capacity,  but  whose  teachers 
had  weighted  'the  yoke  of  the  Kingdom'  '  to  a  heavy  l)urden,  and 
made  the  Will  of  God  to  them  labour,  weary  and  unaccomplishable. 
But,  whether  or  not  spoken  at  that  special  time,  Ave  cannot  fail 
to  recognise  their  special  suital)leness  to  the  '  forgiven  sinner '  in  the 
Pharisee's  house,*"  and  their  inward,  even  if  not  outward,  connection 
with  her  history. 

Another  ])oint  requires  notice.  It  is  how,  in  the  unfolding  of 
His  Mission  to  Man,  the  Christ  progressively  placed  Himself  in 
antagonism  to  the  Jewish  religious  thought  of  His  time,  from  out  of 
which  He  had  historically  sprung.  In  thisi)art  of  His  earthly  course 
the  antagonism  appeared,  indeed,  so  to  speak,  in  a  positive  rather 
than  negative  form,  that  is,  rather  in  what  He  afiirmed  than  in  what 
He  coml)ated.  because  the  opposition  to  Him  was  not  yet  fully  de- 
veloped: whei-eas  in  the  second  part  of  His  course  it  was,  for  a 
similar  reason,  I'ather  negative  than  positive.  From  the  first  this 
antagonism  was  there  in  what  He  taught  and  did:  and  it  appeared 
with  increasing  distinctness  in  proportion  as  He  taught.  We  find  it 
in  the  whole  spirit  and  l)earing  of  what  he  did  and  said — in  the 
house  at  Capernaum,  in  the  Synagogues,  with  the  Gentile  Centurion, 
at  the  gate  of  Nain,  and  esj^ecially  here,  in  the  history  of  the  much 
forgiven  woman  who  had  much  sinned.  A  Jewish  Rabbi  could  not 
have  so  acted  and  sjioken:  he  would  not  even  have  understood 
Jesus;  nay,  a  Rabbi,  however  gentle  and  pitiful,  would  in  woi'd  and 
deed  have  taken  precisely  the  o]iposite  directiim  from  that  of  the 
Christ. 


'  Made  '  the  yoke  of. tlie   Kiiiudoiu  of 
Heaven  "  ("""^r  Tv""^  ~*"l  equal  to  •  the 


yoke  of  Ihe  Law  ■    ("1*71  !'1i')  or  to    that 
•of  the  eommandments'  (.11*^    ^U'). 


TIIK    WOMAN    THAT    WAS    A   SINNER.  5f)3 

As  St.  (xregoi'V  ('xi)res.s('s  it,  tliis  is  jxTliaps  a  liistory  more  lit  to     CHAP. 
be  wept  over  than  coiiniieuted  upon.      For  comnients  seem  so  often        XXI 
to  intei'i)ose  Ix^tween  the  simple  Ibi'ee  ol' a  narrative  and  our  hearts,    ^— -^-r'**-' 
and  I'ew  events  in  tlie  Gos})eI-history    have    been    so    blunted    and 
turned  aside   as  this  histoiw,  llirou<>-h  verbal  controvei'sies  and  do<>-- 
matic  wrangling. 

The  tirst  impression  on  our  minds  is,  that  tlie  history  itself  is 
but  a  fi'agment.  We  must  try  to  learn  from  its  structure,  where 
and  how  it  was  l)roken  off.  We  understand  the  infinite  delicaey 
that  left  her  unnamed,  the  record  of  whose  'much  Ibrgiveness '  and 
great  love  had  to  be  joined  to  that  of  her  much  sin.  And  we  mark, 
in  contrast,  the  coarse  clumsiness  which,  without  any  reason  foi'  the 
assertion,  to  meet  the  cravings  of  morbid  curiosity,  or  for  saiut- 
Avorshij),  has  associated  her  history  with  the  name  of  Mary  Magdalene.^ 
Another,  and  perhaps  even  more  painful,  mistake  is  the  attempt 
of  certain  critics  to  identify  this  history  with  the  much  later  anoint- 
ing of  Christ  at  Bethanv,  "  and  to  determine  which  of  the  two  is  the    'St.  Matt. 

simpler,  and  which  the  more  ornate — which  the  truer  of  the  accounts.    aiKii>arai- 

.  ...         '"^is- 

and  whence,  or  why,  each  of  the  Evangelists  has  franu'd  his  distinc- 
tive narrative.  Yet  the  two  narratives  have  really  nothing  in  com- 
mon, save  that  in  each  case  there  was  a  '  Sinntn  ' — perhaps  the 
commonest  of  Jewish  names;  a  woman  who  anointed;  and  that 
Christ,  and  those  who  were  present,  si)oke  and  acted  in  accordance 
with  other  passages  in  the  Gospel-history:''  that  is,  true  to  their 
respective  histories.  But,  such  twofold  anointing — the  first,  at  the 
beginning  of  His  works  of  mercy,  of  the  Feet  l)y  a  forgiven,  loving- 
sinner  on  whom  tlie  Sun  had  just  risen;  the  second,  of  His  Head, 
by  a  loving  disciple,  when  the  full-orl)ed  Sun  was  setting  in  blood, 
at  the  close  of  His  Ministry — is,  as  in  the  twofold  purgation  of  the 
Temple  at  the  beginning  and  close  of  His  Work,  only  like  the  com- 
pleting of  the  circle  of  His  Life. 

The  invitation  of  Simon  the  Pharisee  to  his  table  does  not 
necessarily  indicate,  that  he  had  l)een  impressed  by  the  teaching  of 
Jesus,  any  more  than  the  sup{)osed  a])plication  to  his  case  of  what  is 
called  the  'parable'  of  the  much  and  the  little  forgiven  debtor 
implies,  that  he  had  received  from  the  Saviour  si)iritual  benefit, 
great  or  small.      W  Jesus  had  taught   in   tlie  •  city,"  and,  as  always. 

'  The    untenablenesis  of  this  strange  bulkiiii;;  largely  when  heaped    together 

lijl)Othesis  has  been  shown  in  almost  all  by  him,  seem  not  only  unfair,  but,  when 

commentaries.     There  is  not  a  tittle  of  examined  one  by  one.    are  seen   to  l)e 

evidence  for  it.  groundless. 

2  The    objections    of    Keim.    though 


5(34  FROM    JOlfDAN    TO    Till']    MOUNT    OF    TKANSFIGUKxVTION. 

BOOK  irrosistibly  drawn  to  Iliiu  the  multitude,  it  would  l)e  only  in   accord- 

ni  ance  with  the  nuinners  of  the  time   il"  the  leading   Pharisee   invited 

^- — -. — '  the  distinguished  '  Teacher  '  to  his  table.     As  such  he   undoubtedly 

» St.  Luke  treated  llini."     The  question  in  Simon's  mind  was,  whether  He  w^as 

vii  40 

more  than  'Teacher' — even  '  Prophet;' and  that  such  question  rose 
within  him  indicates,  not  only  that  Christ  openly  claimed  a  position 
dirtcrcnt  Irom  that  of  Rabbi,  and  that  His  followers  regarded  Him  at 
least  as  a  i)rophet,  but  also,  within  the  breast  of  Simon,  a  struggle 
in  which  strong  Jewish  i)rejudice  was  bearing  down  the  mighty 
impression  of  Christ's  Presence. 

They  were  all  sitting,  or  ratlier  '  lying ' ' — the  Mishnah  some- 
times also  calls  it  '  sitting  down  and  leaning  ' — around  the  table,  the 
body  resting  on  the  couch,  tlie  feet  turned  away  from  the  table  in  the 
direction  of  the  Avail,  while  the  left  ellx)w  rested  on  the  table.  And 
now^,  from  the  open  courtyard,  up  the  verandah-step,  perhaps  through 
kAb.  iv.  16  an  antechamber,"  and  by  the  open  door,  passed  the  figure  of  a 
w^oman  into  the  festive  reception-room  ami  dining-hall — the  Teraqlin 
{triclinium)  of  the  Rabbis.'  How  did  she  obtain  access?  Had  she 
mingled  with  the  servants,  or  was  access  free  to  all — or  had  she, 
perhaps,  knowai  the  house  and  its  owner?''  It  little  matters^as 
little  as  whether  she  '  had  been,'  or  '  was'  u})  to  that  day,  '  a  sinner,'  * 
in  the  terrible  acceptation  of  the  term.  But  we  must  bear  in  mind 
the  greatness  of  Jewish  prejudice  against  any  conversation  witli 
woman,  however  lofty  her  character,  fully  to  realise  the  absolute 
incongruity  on  the  part  of  such  a  wonuin  in  seeking  access  to  the 
Rabbi,  Whom  so  numy  regarded  as  the  God-sent  Pi-oi)het. 

But  this,  also,  is  evidential,  that  here  w^e  are  far  Ijcyond  tlie 
Jewish  standpoint.  To  this  woman  it  was  not  incongruous,  Ijecause 
to  her  Jesus  had,  indeed,  been  the  Prophet  sent  from  God.  We 
have  said  before  that  tliis  story  is  a  fragment;  and  here,  also,  as  in 
the  invitation  of  Simon  to  Jesus,  we  have  evidence  of  it.  She  had, 
no  doubt,  heard  His  words  that  day.     What  He  had  said  would  be, 

'  Ber.  vi.  6  makes  the  followiiiii- curious  urenieut   for  such  a  hall  was  lit'teen  feet 

clistlnction:  if  they  sit  at  the  table,  each  (ten  cubits)  breadth,  leiiiilh,  and  height 

says  '  the  grace  '  for  himself;  if  they  '  lie  (Baba  B.  vi.  4). 

down '  to  table,  one  says  it  in  the  name  ^  The  strangeness  of  the  circumstance 

of  all.     If  w'ine  is  handed  them  during  suggests    this,    which   is,    alas!    by  no 

dinner,   each  says   •  the  grace '   over  it  means  inconsistent  with  what  we  know 

for  him.self;  if  after  dinner,  one  says  it  of  the  morality  of  some  of  these  Rabbis, 

for  all.  although  this  page  must  not  be  stained 

^  The    Terarjlin    was   sometimes    en-  by  detailed  references, 

tered    by   an  antechamber  (Prosedor),  *  The  other  and  harsher  reading,    'a 

Ab.  iv.    16,  and  opened  into  one  (Jer.  woman  which  was  in  the  city  a  sinner,' 

Rosh  haSh.  5!)  b),   or  more  ( Yom.  15  b),  need  scarcely  be  discussed, 
side-  or  bed-rooms.    The  common  meas- 


P.KHIM)    FflM.    AT    HIS    FEET.  555 

in  substance,  it"  not  in  words:  -Conic  unto  Me,  all  ye  that  lal)our  an<l      CHAP. 

are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  iiivcvou  rest.   .   .   .     Leai'n  ol'Me,  for  1  am       XXI 

meek  and  lowly  in  heart.   .   .   .     Ye  shall  tind  rest  unto  your  souls,    v— ^-^--^^ 

.   .   .   .  '     This  was  to  her  the  Prophet  sent  from  (iod  with  the  <i-ood 

news  that  opened  even  to  her  the  Kingdom   of  Heaven,  and  laid   its 

yoke  upon  her,  not  bearing  her  down  to  very  hell,  but   easy  of  wear' 

and  light  of  burden.     She  knew  that  it  was  all  as  He  said,  in  regard 

to  the  heavy  load  of  her  past;  and,  as  she  listened  to  those  Words, 

and  looked  on  that  Presence,  she  learned  to  believe  that  it  was  all  as 

lie  had  promised  to  the  heavy  burdened.     And  she  had  watched,  and 

followed  Him  afar  ofi'to  the  Pharisee's  house.     Or,  perhaps,  if  it  be 

tliought  that  she  had  not  that  day  heard  for    herself,  still,  the  sound 

of  that  message  must  have  reached  her,  and  wakened  the  echoes  of 

her  heart.     And  still  it  was:   Come  to  Me]  learn  of  J/e;  /  will  give 

rest.     What  mattered  all  else  to  her  in  the  hunger  of  her  soul,  which 

had  just  tasted  of  that  Heavenly  Bread? 

The  shadow  of  her  form  must  have  fallen  on  all  who  sat  at  meat. 
But  none  spake;  nor  did  she  heed  any  but  One.  Like  heaven's  own 
music,  as  Angels'  songs  that  guide  the  wanderer  home,  it  still  sounded 
in  her  ears.  There  are  times  when  we  forget  all  else  in  one  absorbing 
thought;  when  men's  opinions — nay,  our  own  feelings  of  shame — are 
effaced  by  that  one  Presence;  when  the  '  Come  to  J/e;  learn  of  Me;  I 
will  give  you  rest,'  are  the  all  in  all  to  us.  Then  it  is,  that  the 
fountains  of  the  Great  Deep  within  are  broken  open  by  the  wonder- 
working rod,  with  which  God's  Messenger  to  us — the  better  Moses — 
has  struck  our  hearts.  She  had  come  that  day  to  '  learn  "  and  to  '  find 
rest.'  What  riuittered  it  to  her  who  was  there,  or  what  they  thought? 
There  was  only  One  Whose  Presence  she  dared  not  encounter — not 
from  fear  of  Him,  but  from  knowledge  of  herself.  It  was  He  to  Whom 
she  had  come.  And  so  she  '  stpod  l)ehind  at  His  Feet.'  She  had 
brought  with  her  an  alabasfron  (phial,  or  tiask,  commonly  of  alaliaster) 
of  i^erfume.^  It  is  a  coarse  suggestion,  that  this  had  originally  been 
bought  for  a  far  different  purpose.  We  know  that  perfumes  were 
much  sought  after,  and  very  largely  in  use.  Some,  such  as  true 
balsam,  were  worth  double  theii"  weight  in  silver:    others,  like  the 

'  I  liave  so  translated  tlie  woi'd /a'poK,  coiiniion  was  tlie  use  of  lu'rriiiiu's.  that 
whk'li  the  A.Y.  renders  •ointment.'  The  Ber.  vi.  (5  mentions  a  iin'f/iiHn:  or  a  kind 
word  is  evidently  the  Hebrew  and  Rab-  of  incense,  whicli  was  commoidy  burnt 
binic  "li?2,  which,  however,  is  not  always  after  a  feast.  As  regards  the  word  •  <^/Z«- 
the  equivalent  for  myrrh,  but  seents  also  ^r^s^ro??,' the  name  was  liiven  to  perfume- 
to  mean  mnsk  and  mastic.  In  short.  I  i)hials  in  f>;eneral,  even  if  not  made  of 
re,i?ard  it  as  designating  any  fluid  unii-uent  alabaster,  because  the  latter  was  so 
— or,  generally  speakina'.     perfunit'.'   So  fr(M[ueiitly  used  for  such  flasks. 


560 


KiioM    .nHJDAX    TO    TIIK    MOI'XT    ()V   TIlAXSFKM'liATKJN. 


BOOK 


!•  Jer.  De- 
mai  22  li 


<■  Ab.  S. 
35  ft 

•1  Shabb. 


si)ik«'ii;ir(l  (  wlict  her  as  juice  or  uii.ii'iiciit.  aloii.ii'  willi  i»rlic|-  iiiii'nMliciits), 
tlioiiiili  not  equally  costly,  were  also  'precious.'  We  have  evidence 
that  perfunied  oils — notably  oil  of  roses,"  nnd  ol'  the  iris  ])lant,  but 
chietly  the  iiii.xtiire  known  in  anti(]ui1y  as  fo/idfmii.  wcvc  larjrely 
manni'actured  and  used  in  Palestine.''  A  Mask  with  this  perfume  was 
worn  l)y  women  round  the  neck,  andhun<>-  down  l)elow  the  breast  (the 
Tseloch/fh  sliel  I'alin'ton).''  8o  common  was  its  use  as  to  Ix'  allowed 
even  on  the  Sal)bath.''  This  '  flask  "(possibly  the  (Innnarta  de  Fhilon 
of  Gift.  69  6) — not  always  of  glass,  l)ut  of  silver  or  gold,  proba])ly 
often  also  of  alabaster — containing  ^  pahjeton  "(evidently,  thefoliatum 
of  Pliny)  was  used  both  to  sweeten  the  breath  and  perfume  the 
person.  Hence  it  seems  at  least  not  uidikely,  that  the  alabasfron 
which  she  brought,  who  loved  so  much,  was  none  other  than  the 
'flask  of  foliatum,"  so  connnon  among  Jewish  wonum.' 

As  she  stood  behind  Him  at  His  Feet,  reverently  IxMiding,  a 
shower  of  tears,  like  sudden,  quick  summer-rain,  that  refreshes  air 
and  earth,  '  bedewed  '  -  His  Feet.  As  if  surpi-ised,  or  else  afraid  to 
awaken  His  attention,  or  defile  Him  by  her  tears,  she  quickly^  wiped 
them  away  with  the  long  tresses  of  hei-  hair  that  luul  fallen  down 
and  touched  Him.*  as  she  bent  over  His  Feet.  Xay.  not  to  wash 
them  in  such  imi)ure  waters  had  she  come,  but  to  show  such  loving 
gratefulness  and  reverence  as  in  her  poverty  she  could,  and  in  her 
humility  she  might  offer.  And,  now  that  her  faith  had  grown  bold 
in  His  Presence,  she  is  continuing'  to  kiss  those  Feet  which  had 
brought  to  her  the  '  good  tidings  of  peace,"  and  to  anoint  them  out  of 
the  alabastron  round  her  neck.  And  still  she  spake  not,  nor  yet  He. 
For,  as  on  her  part  silence  seemed  most  fitting  utterance,  so  on  His, 
that  He  sulTered  it  in  silence  was  best  and  most  fitting  answer  to  her. 

Another  there  Avas  whose  thoughts,  tar  other  than  hers  or  the 
Christ's,  were  also  unuttered.  A  more  painful  contrast  than  that  of 
'  the  Pharisee  '  in  this  scene,  can  scarcely  be  imagined.  We  do  not 
insist  that  the  desifjnation  'this  Man, '"^  given  to  Christ   in   his  un- 


'  Tht;  derivation  of  tlie  Raliltiiiic  term  in 
Bu.rJorfs  Lexicon  (p.  1724)  is  certainly 
incorrect.  I  liave  no  doubt  the  "jV^'^'J  was 
Xhefolidfum  of  Pliny  (\l\si.  Nat.  xiii.  1, 
2).  In  .lew.  AVar  iv.  0.  10,  Joftephns  seems 
to  inu)ly  that  women  occasionally  poured 
over  themselves  unfi;uents.  According'  to 
Kethul).  vi.  4,  a  woman  mii^ht  ai)pareiitiy 
spend  a  tenth  of  her  dowry  on  sucii  tliinijs 
as  unguents  and  perfumes.  For,  in 
Kethub.  66  h  we  have  an  exasfTd'ated  ac- 


coiuit  of  a  woman  si)tMiilin.iC  upwanls  of 
:)()()/.  on  perfumes!  This  will  at  any  rate 
l)rove  tiieir  common  and  al>unilant  use. 

-  This  is  the  Teal  meaning  of  the  verb. 

'  Tliis  is  imi)lied  in  tlie  tense. 

*  It  is  certainly  not  implied,  that  she 
had  her  hair  dislievelled  as  in  mourning, 
or  as  by  women  before  drinking  the 
waters  of  jealousy. 

'■'  The  tense  implies  tiiis. 


THE    MICH    AND    TIIK    LITTI.K   F<)l{(;i\'EN.  e^^^■^ 

i^pokou  tliouglits,  or  tlic  iiianiicr   in   w  liicli   urtcrwui'ds  lie  r('])li('(l  to      chap. 
the  Saviour's  question  by  a  sui)ercilious  'I  sujjposo,"  or  '  presume,"  '        XXI 

necessarily  imply  contempt.      But  they  certainly  indicate  the  mood   ^ r—^ 

of  his  spirit.  One  thing,  at  least,  seems  now  clcnr  to  this  Pharisee:  'ver. « 
If  'this  Man,'  this  strange,  wandering,  i)()[)ular  idol,  with  His 
strange,  novel  ways  and  words,  Whom  in  politeness  he  must  call 
'Teacher,'  ^  Rabbi,  were  a  Prophet,  He  would  have  known  who  the 
woman  was,  an<l,  if  He  had  known  Avho  she  was,  then  Avould  He 
never  have  allowed  such  approach.  So  do  we,  also,  often  argue  as 
to  what  He  would  do,  if  He  knew.  But  He  does  know;  and  it  is  just 
because  He  knoweth  that  He  doeth  what,  from  our  lower  standpoint, 
we  cannot  understand.  Had  He  been  a  Baltbi,  He  would  certaiidy, 
and  liad  he  been  merely  a  Prophet,  He  would-  probably,  have  repelled 
such  approach.  The  former,  if  not  from  self-righteousness,  j^et  from 
ignorance  of  sin  and  forgiveness;  the  latter,  because  such  homage 
was  more  than  man's  due.'^  But,  He  was  more  than  a  prophet — the 
Saviour  of  sinners;  and  so  she  miglit  quietly  weep  over  His  Feet,  and 
then  quickly  wipe  away  the  'dew'  of  the  'better  morning,'  and 
then  continue  to  kiss  His  Feet  and  to  anoint  them. 

And  yet  Prophet  He  also  was,  and  in  far  fuller  sense  than  Simon 
could  have  imagined.  For,  He  had  read  Sim<ni's  unspoken  thoughts. 
Presently  He  would  show  it  to  him;  yet  not,  as  we  might,  by  open 
reproof,  that  would  have  put  him  to  shame  before  his  guests,  but 
with  infinite  delicacy  towards  His  host,  and  still  in  manner  that  he 
could  not  mistake.  What  follows  is  not,  as  generally  supposed,  a 
parable  but  an  illustration.  Accordingly,  it  must  in  no  way  be 
pressed.  With  this  explanation  vanish  all  the  supposed  difficulties 
about  the  Pharisees  being  'little  forgiven,'  and  hence  'loving  little.' 
To  convinc(»  Sinuni  of  the  error  of  his  conclusion,  that,  if  the  life  of 
that  woman  had  been  known,  the  prophet  must  have  for])idden  her 
touch  of  love,  Jesus  entered  into  the  Pharisee's  own  modes  of  reason- 
ing. Of  two  debtors,  one  of  whom  owed  ten  times  as  much  as  the 
other,-' who  would  best  love  the  creditor'  who  had  freely'  forgiven 

'   In  tho  A.V.  luul  iiidiu'i'il  filial  reverence   in   liis  son 

-  The  Talnuul.  with  its  usual  exai^ijer-  (u.  s.,  cot  </}. 

alion,  has  tiiis  story  when  commenting  •'  Tiie  one  suni^upwards  of  1.')/.  ;  the 

on  the  reverence  due  by  children  to  their  otlier=ui)wards  of  1/.  lO.s'. 

l)arents,   that  R.    Ishnuiel's  mother  had  -■  Money-lender — though    perhaps   not 

comiilained  lier  son  would  not  allow  liei',  in  the  evil  sense  which  we  attach  to  the 

when  he  came  from  tlie  Academy,  to /m.s7/  term.     At  the  same   time,  the  fre<iuent 

/lis  feet  and  then  drink  the  water — on  allusion  to  such  and  to  their  harsh  ways 

which  the  sages  made  the  Rabbi  yield  !  otters   painful    illustration  of  the  social 

(Jer.  Peah  15  c).     Again,  some  one  came  state  at  the  time, 

to  kiss  Ti.  Joxathati's  feet,  because  he  ■■  So  rather  than    iVunkly'  in  the  A.V. 


568  FliOM   JORDAN   TO   THE    .MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  them  r '  Though  to  both  the  (U'bt  might  have  been  equally  impos- 
III  sible  of  discharge,  and  both  might  love  equally,  yet  a  Eabbi  would, 
"— 'v —  according  to  his  Jewish  notions,  say,  that  he  would  love  most  to 
Avhom  most  had  l)ecn  tbrgivcn.  If  this  was  the  undoubted  outcome 
of  Jewish  theology — the  so  much  for  so  much — let  it  be  applied  to 
the  present  case.  If  there  were  much  l)enefit,  there  would  be  much 
love;  if  little  benetlt,  little  love.  And  conversely:  in  such  case 
much  love  would  argue  much  benefit;  little  love,  small  benefit.  Let 
him  then  aj^ply  the  reasoning  by  marking  this  woman,  and  contrast- 
ing her  conduct  with  his  own.  To  wash  the  feet  of  a  guest,  to  give 
him  the  kiss  of  welcome,  and  especially  to  anoint  him,^  were  not, 
indeed,  necessary  attentions  at  a  feast.  All  the  more  did  they 
indicate  special  care,  affection,  and  respect.^  Xone  of  these  tokens 
of  deep  regard  had  marked  the  merely  polite  reception  of  Him  by 
the  Pharisee.  But,  in  a  twofold  climax  of  which  the  intensity  can 
only  l)e  indicated,*  the  Saviour  now  proceeds  to  show,  how  different 
it  had  been  with  her,  to  whom,  for  the  first  time.  He  now  turned! 
On  Simon's  own  reasoning,  then,  he  must  have  received  but  little, 
she  much  benefit.  Or,  to  apply  the  former  illustration,  and  now  to 
reality:  '  P'orgiven  haxQ  been  her  sins,  the  many  '  ^ — not  in  ignorance, 
but  with  knowledge  of  their  ])eing  '  many.'  This,  by  Simon's  former 
admission,  Avould  explain  and  account  tor  her  much  love,  as  the  effect 
of  much  forgiveness.  On  the  other  hand — though  in  delicacy  the 
Lord  does  not  actually  express  it — this  other  inference  would  also  hold 
true,  that  Simon's  little  love  showed  that  'little  is  being  forgiven."' 

What  has  been  explained  will  dispose  of  another  controversy 
which,  with  little  judgment  and  less  taste,  has  been  connected  with 
this  nuirvellous  history.  It  must  not  ])e  made  a  question  as  between 
Ronmnist  and  Protestant,  nor  as  between  rival  dogmatists,  whetlier 
love  had  any  meritorious  i)art  in  her  forgiveness,  or  whether,  as  after- 
wards stated,  her  'faith'  had  'saved'  her.  Undoubtedly,  her  faith 
Jiad  saved  her.  What  she  had  heard  from  His  lips,  what  she  knew 
of  Him,  she- had  believed.  She  had  believed  in  'the  good  tidings  of 
peace  "  wliicli  He  had  brought,  in  the  love  of  God,  and  His  Father- 

'  Tlu'   points  of  resemblance   and  of  ^  Thou  ga vest  me  no  water,  she  washed 

diflercnce  with  St.   Matt,   xviii.   2:!   will  not  with  water  but  tears:  no  kiss,  she 

readily  appear  on  comparison.  kisscil  my  tVet:  no  oil.  she  unguent;  not 

■■^  Conip.  for  ex.  St.  .John  xiii.  4.  to  the  h(>ad.  liut  to  the  feet.     And  yet: 

•'  Washing:  Gen.  xviii.  4;  xix.  2;  xxiv.  emphafica/f>/ — into  f/n/  house   I   came, 

32;    Judg.    xix.    21;    1    Sam.    xxv.  41;  &c. 

kissing:  Ex.  xviii.  7:  2  Sam.  xv.  5;  xix.  =  So  literally. 

39;  anointing:  Eccl.  ix.  8;  Amos  vi.  6,  as  ^  Mark  the  tense, 
well  as  Ps.  xxiii.  5. 


•THY   FAITH   HAS   SAVED    THHE:    GO   INTO    PEACE.'  559 

hood  (»r  i)itv  to  the  most  smil<i'ii  niid  needy;  in  Christ,  as  the  CHAI". 
Messenger  of  Reconciliation  and  Peace  witli  (Jod;  in  tlie  Kingdom  of  XXI 
Heaven  whicli  He  had  so  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  opened  to  lier.  - — -r^^ 
from  out  of  whose  unfohied  golden  gates  Heaven's  light  had  I'alleii 
upon  her,  Heaven's  voices  had  come  to  her.  She  had  believed  it  all: 
the  Father,  the  Son — Revealcr,  the  Holy  Ghost — Revealing.  And 
it  had  saved  her.  When  she  came  to  that  feast,  and  stood  behind 
with  humbled,  loving  gratefulness  and  reverence  of  heart-service, 
she  UHis  already  saved.  Slie  needed  not  to  be  forgiven:  she  had 
been  forgiven.  And  it  was  because  she  was  Ibrgiven  that  she 
bedewed  His  Feet  with  the  summer-shower  of  her  heart,  and,  quickly 
wiping  away  the  tlood  with  her  tresses,  continued  kissing  and  anoint- 
ing them.  .Vll  this  Avas  the  impulse  of  her  heart,  who,  having  come 
in  heart,  still  came  to  Him,  and  learned  of  Him,  and  found  rest  to 
her  soul.  In  that  early  springtide  of  her  new-born  life,  it  seemed 
that,  as  on  Aaron's  rod,  leaf,  Ijud,  and  tlower  were  all  together  in 
tangled  confusion  of  rich  forthbursting.  She  had  not  yet  reached 
order  and  clearness;  perhaps,  in  the  fulness  of  her  feelings,  knew  not 
how  great  were  her  blessings,  and  felt  not  yet  that  conscious  rest  which 
grows  out  of  faith  in  the  forgiveness  which  it  obtains. 

And  this  was  now  the  final  gift  of  Jesus  to  her.  As  formerly  for 
the  first  time  He  had  turned,  so  now  for  the  first  time  He  spoke  to 
her — and  once  more  with  tenderest  delicacy.  '  Thy  sins  have  been  for- 
given''— not,  are  forgiven,  and  not  now — '  the  many.'  Nor  does  He 
now  heed  the  murmuring  thoughts  of  those  around,  who  cannot 
understand  Who  this  is  that  forgiveth  sins  also.  But  to  her,  and 
truly,  though  not  literally,  to  them  also,  and  to  us,  He  said  in 
explanation  and  application  of  it  all:  'Thy  faith  has  saved  thee:  go 
into  peace.'-  Our  logical  dogmatics  would  have  had  it:  'go  in 
peace;'  more  truly  He,  '  info  peace'  '^  And  so  she,  the  first  who  had 
come  to  Him  for  spiritual  healing,  the  first  of  an  unnund)ered  host, 
went  out  into  the  better  light,  into  peace  of  heart,  peace  of  faith, 
peace  of  rest,  and  into  the  eternal  peace  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
and  of  the  Heaven  of  the  kingdom  hereafter  and  for  ever. 

'  So,  iiroperly  rendered.     Romanisiii.  ■'  Tliis   distinction    between    tiie    two 

in  tliis  also  arrogatin<j;  to  man  more  tban  modes  of  expression  is  marked  in  Moed. 

Christ    Himself     ever     spotce,    has    it:  K.   29  a:    'into  peace.'  as   said   to  the 

Absolro  fe,  not  '  tliy  sins  have  been  for-  living;    'in  peace,'  as  referring  to  the 

given,'  but  I  absolve  thee!  dead. 

•^  So  literally. 


5t0 


FROM    JUUDAN    TO    THE    MUUxNT    UF    TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


BOOK 
III 


='  St.  Lul;p 
viii.1-3:  St. 
Matt.  Ix.  :i."i 


THE  MINISTRY  OF  LOVE,  THE  BLASPHEMY  OF  HATRED,  AND  THE  MISTAKES 
OF  EARTHLY  AFFECTION — THE  RETURN  TO  CAPERNAUM — HEALINCJ 
OF  THE  DEMONISED  DUMB — PHARISAIC  CHARGE  AGAINST  CHRIST— 
THE    VISIT  OF  CHinsT'S  MOTHER  AND   BRETHREN. 

(St.  Luke  viii.  1-:^:   St.   .Matt.  ix.    32-:5.i :  St.   Mark  iii.  22.  &c.;  St.  Matt.  xii.  46-.)0 

and  jiarallcls. ) 

However  interesting  and  important  to  follow  tlic  steps  of  our  Lord 
on  His  journey  through  Galilee,  and  to  group  in  their  order  the 
notices  of  it  in  the  Gospels,  the  task  seems  almost  hopeless.  In 
truth,  since  none  of  the  Evangelists  attempted — should  we  not  say, 
ventured — to  write  a  '  Life '  of  the  Christ,  any  strictly  historical 
arrangement  lay  outside  their  i)urpose.  Their  point  of  view  was  that 
of  the  internal,  rather  than  the  external  development  of  this  histoi-y. 
And  so  events,  kindred  in  purpose,  discourses  bearing  on  the  same 
subject,  or  })arables  pointing  to  the  same  stretch  of  truth,  were 
grouped  togetlier;  or,  as  in  the  present  instance,  the  unfolding 
teaching  of  Christ  and  the  growing  opposition  of  His  enemies 
exhibited  by  joining  together  notices  which,  perha])s.  liclong  to 
dirterent  periods.  And  the  lesson  to  us  is,  that,  just  as  the  Old 
Testament  gives  neither  the  national  history  of  Israel,  n(jr  the 
biography  of  its  heroes,  but  a  history  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  its 
progressive  development,  so  the  Gospels  present  not  a  '  Life  of 
Christ,'  but  the  history  of  the  Kingdom  of  God  in  its  j)rogressive 
manifestation. 

Yet,  although  there  are  difficidties  connected  with  details,  we 
can  trace  in  outline  the  general  succession  of  events.  AVe  conclude, 
that  Christ  was  now  returning  to  Capernaum  from  that  Missionary 
journey "  of  which  Nain  had  been  the  southernmost  point.  On  this 
journey  He  was  attended,  not  only  by  the  Twelve,  but  l)y  loving, 
grateful  women,  who  ministered  to  Him  of  their  substance.  Among 
them   three    are  specially  named.      '.Mary,  called  Magdalene,'  had 


MACIDALA    AND    TIIK    MACDAI.KNE. 


571 


received  IVdiii  llim  special  bciictit  of  licaliii.ii'  to  IxmI}-  and  sold.'  Her 
d('sigiiatioii  as  Magdalcuc  was  })r()l)ably  dcriNtMl  froiu  licr  native  city. 
Maii'dala,-  just  as  several  Rabbis  arc  spoken  of  in  the  Tuhuud  as 
'Magdalene'  i^Mmjdchidli.  or  Magdelaya^).  Magdala,  which  was  a 
iSabbath-day's  journev  Irom  Tiberias,"  was  celebrated  tor  its  dye- 
works,''  and  its  nianutactories  of  line  woolen  textures,  of  which 
eighty  are  mentioned.'  Indeed,  all  that  district  seems  to  have  been 
engaged  in  this  industry.'  It  was  also  reputed  for  its  ti'atlic  in 
turtle-doves  and  pigeons  for  purifications — tradition,  with  its  usual 
exaggeration  of  numbers,  mentioning  three  liundred  such  shops.'" 
Accordingly,  its  wealth  was  very  great,  and  it  is  named  among  the 
three  cities  whose  contributions  were  so  large  as  to  be  sent  in  a 
wagon  to  Jerusalem.''  But  its  moral  corruption  was  also  great,  and 
to  this  the  Rabbis  attributed  its  final  destruction.''  Magdala  had  a 
Synagogue.'''^  Its  name  was  probably  derived  from  a  sti'ong  tower 
wliich  defended  its  approaches,  or  served  for  outlook.  This  suggestion 
is  supported  by  the  circumstance,  that  M'liat  seems  to  have  foi-med 
j)art,  or  a  suburb  of  Magdala,*^  bore  the  names  of  'Fish-tower'  and 
'Tower  of  the  Dyers."  One  at  least,  if  not  both  these  towers,  would 
be  near  the  landing-place,  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  and  overlook  its 
waters.  The  necessity  for  snch  places  of  outlook  and  defence, 
nudving  the  town  a  Magdala^  would  l)e  iuci-eased  by  the  })roximity  of 
the  magnificent  ])lain  of  Gennesaret,  of  which  Josephus  speaks  in 
.such  rapturous  terms.''  Moreover,  only  twenty  minutes  to  the 
north  of  Magdala  descended  the  so-called  'Valley  of  Doves "  (the  Wady 
Hamiini),  through  which  passed  the  ancient  caravan-road  that  led  over 
I^azareth  to  Damascus.  The  name  'valley  of  doves'  illustrates  the 
substantial  accuracy  of  the  Ral)binic  (lescri])tions  of  ancient  Mag- 
dala.    Modern  travelers  (such  as  Dean  Stanh-ij.  Trofessor  /lobiiis<)». 


CHAP. 
XXTI 


"Jen  Friib. 
22  d,  end 

''  Ber.  }{.  79 

'•  Jer.  Taan. 
69",  lilH'  15 
from 
bdttiiiii 


d  Midr.  on 
Lameui. 
ii.  2 


'■  Jer.  Taan. 
69  (( 

f  Jer.  Taan. 
u.  .s. :  Midr. 
on  Lament, 
ii.  2,  ed. 
Warsh. 
p.  67  l> 
middle 

p  Midr.  on 
Eecl.  X.  K, 
ed.  WarHh 
p.  102  /' 


''  Jewish 
War  iii.  10 


1  'Out  of  whom  went  seven  deviit;." 
Those  who  ure  curious  to  see  one  attenii)t 
at  tin(lui,2;  a  ■  rational  '  liasis  for  some  of 
the  Tahnudical  leuvuds  al)out  Mary  Mag- 
dalene and  otliers  t'onnected  witli  tlie 
iiistory  of  Ciirist.  may  consult  the  essay 
of  Hdsrk  in  the  Studien  and  KritiUen  for 
1873.  pp.  77-115  (Die  .Tesus-Mythen  d. 
Judenth.). 

-'  The  su2;£jestion  that  the  word  meant 
'  curler  of  liair,"  which  is  made  by  Liijht- 
t'ont,  and  rejieated  by  his  modern  follow- 


are  found.  Ills  renuirk  about  tiu'ce  coins 
laid  on  each  other  like  a  tower  nuiiiit,  if 
it  liad  not  ])een  connected  with  such  a 
,iz;rave  discussion,  haxc  almost  si-emcHl  a 
pun  on  M(iijd(thi. 

*  Thus  in  regard  to  another  village 
(iu)t  mentioned  either  by  Rchnidus  oi 
Neiibi(Krr)  in  the  Midr.  on  Lament,  ii.  2, 
ed.  War.sli.  p.  ()7  h.  line  1.'?  from  bottom. 

■'  This  Synan'ogut'  is  introduced  in  the 
alnuist  blasphemous  account  of  the 
miracles  of  Simon   ben  .lochai.  when  he 


ers,    depends    on    entire    misapprehen-  declared  Tiberias  free  from  the  detilement 

sion.  of  dead  bodies,  buried  tlu>re. 

■'  In  Baba  Mets.  25  (t,  middle,  R.  Isaac         ''  This  has  been  well  shown   t)y  Ne.fi- 

the  Magdalene  is  introduced  in  a  highly  lutiicr,  (Jeogr.  de  la   Palestine,  pp.   217, 

characteristic  discussion  about  coins  that  21S. 


5(2 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Baedeker's 
Paliistina, 
pp.  268,  269 


i>  St.  Matt, 
xxvii.  56 


'•  St.  Luke 
xxiil.  .5.5 


f  St.  Luke 
xxiv.  10 


F  SPb.  62  h 


1'  St.  .John 
iv.  4G-54 


'  Yebam. 
70  a 


Farrar,  and  others)  have  noticed  the  strange  dcsignati(jn  '  Valley  of 
Doves '  without  being  able  to  suggest  the  explanation  of  it,  which  the 
knowledge  of  its  traliic  in  doves  for  i)urposes  of  purification  at  once 
supplies.  Of  the  man}'  towns  and  villages  that  dotted  the  shores  of 
the  Lake  of  Galilee,  all  have  passed  away  except  Magdala,  which  is 
still  represented  by  the  collection  of  mud  hovels  that  bears  the  name 
of  Mejdel.  The  ancient  watch-tower  which  gave  the  place  its  name 
is  still  there,  probably  standing  on  the  same  site  as  that  which  looked 
down  on  Jesus  and  the  Magdalene.  To  this  day  Magdala  is  cele- 
brated for  its  springs  and  rivulets,  which  render  it  specially  suitable 
for  dyeworks;  while  the  shell-fish  with  which  these  waters  and  the 
Lake  are  said  to  abound, ''  might  supply  some  of  the  dye.^ 

Such  details  may  help  us  more  clearly  to  realise  the  home,  and 
with  it,  perhaps,  also  the  upbringing  and  circumstances  of  her  who 
not  only  ministered  to  Jesus  in  His  Life,  but,  with  eager  avarice  of 
love,  watched  *  afar  off'  His  dying  moments,''  and  then  sat  over 
against  the  new  tomb  of  Joseph  in  which  His  Body  was  laid.''  And 
the  terrible  time  which  followed  she  spent  with  her  like-minded 
friends,  who  in  Galilee  had  ministered  to  Christ,**  in  preparing  those 
'spices  and  ointments'"  which  the  Risen  Saviour  would  never  re- 
quire. For,  on  that  Easter-morning  the  empty  tomb  of  Jesus  was  only 
guarded  1)y  Angel-messengers,  who  announced  to  the  Magdalene  and 
Joanna,  as  well  as  the  other  women, "^  the  gladsome  tidings  that  His 
foretold  Resurrection  had  become  a  reality.  But  however  difficult 
the  circumstances  may  have  been,  in  which  the  Magdalene  came  to 
profess  her  faith  in  Jesus,  those  oi' Joanna  (the  Hebrew  Yochani-) 
must  have  been  even  more  trying.  She  was  the  wife  oi'Chuza,  Herod's 
Steward'^ — possibly,  though  not  likely,  the  Court-official  whose  son 
Jesus  had  healed  by  the  word  spoken  in  Cana.*"  Tlie  absence  of  any 
reference  to  the  event  seems  rather  opposed  to  this  supposition.  In- 
deed, it  seems  doubtful,  whether  Chuzawds  a  Jewish  name.  In  Jewish 
writings^  the  designation  (^*i"i-)'  seems  rather  used  as  a  bv-namo 


'  It  i.s  at  any  rate  remarkable  tliat  the 
Talmud  (.Meffiil.  (i  n)  tiiid.-?  in  the  ancient 
territory  of  Zebuhui  the  Ckiho//  ("T"")  .so 
largely  used  in  dyeing  purple  and  scar- 
let, and  so  very  precious.  !-!i)ui'ious  dyes 
of  tiie  same  coioui-  were  also  produced 
(comi).  Lewi/soJiii,  Zool.  d.  Talni.  |)p. 
281-28:^). 

■^  Curiously  enough,  the  rii-eek  term 
^;r/r/^jo;ro?  (steward)  lias  passiMl  jnio  ihe 
R  a  b  1 }  i  n  ic  A  ph  iteroph  as. 

•'  Ddltzsch  (Zeitsch.  fiir  Lulhei-  Theol. 


for  1876.  p.  .598).  seems  to  re,2:ard /wre//// 
(.TTir)  as  the  .Jewish  etfuivalent  of  Ghuza. 
The  word  is  mentioned  in  the,l;v^c/i  (ed. 
Ldiidau,  J).  801  h.  wlicre  the  references, 
however,  are  mis((U0ted)  as  occurrinir  in 
Ber.  R.  2.'3  and  ol.  No  existin.<r  copy  of 
tiie  Midrash  has  the.se  references,  wiiicli 
seem  to  have  been  i)uri)o.sely  onntte'l. 
It  is  curious  that  both  occur  in  connec- 
tion with  iMessianic  passajjes.  In  any 
case,  however,  Kiizith  was  not  a  ))ro|)er 
name.     ])ut    some    mvstic    desiii'iiation. 


THE   RETURN  JOlIUNEY   TO   GAPEllNAL'M.  573 

("littlf  i)it('li«'r ")  for  a  .small,  iusignilicaut  person,  than  as  a  proper     chap. 
name.'    Only  one  other  of  those  who  ministered  to  Jesus  is  mentioned      XXII 
by  name.     It  is  Susayina,  the  'lily.'     The  names  of  the  other  loving  ^— -v-*-^ 
women  arc  not  written  on  the  page  of  earth's  history,  but  only  on  that 
of  tlie  'Lamb's  Book  of  Life.'     And  they  'ministered  to  Ilim  of  their 
substance.'    So  early  did  eternal  riches  appear  in  the  garb  of  poverty; 
so  soon  did  love  to  Christ  find  its  treasure  in  consecrating  it  to  His 
Ministry.     And  ever  since  has  this  been  the  law  of  His  Kingdom,  to 
our  great  humiliation  andyetgi'eater  exaltation  in  fellowship  with  llim. 
It  was   on  this  I'cturn-journi'y  to   Capernaum,   probably  not  far 
from  the  latter  place. that  the  two  blind  men  had  their  siuht  restored."  "St.  Matt. 

'  ix.  27-31 

It  was  then,  also,  that  the  healing  of  the  demonised  dumb  took 
l)lace,  which  is  recorded  in  St.  Matt.  ix.  32-35,  and  alluded  to  in 
St.  Mark  iii.  22-30.  This  narrative  must,  of  course,  not  be  con- 
founded with  the  somewhat  similar  event  told  in  St.  Matt.  xii. 
22-32,  and  in  St.  Luke  xi.  14-26.  The  latter  occurred  at  a  much 
later  period  in  our  Loi'd's  life,  when,  as  the  whole  context  sliows,  the 
opposition  of  the  I'harisaic  party  had  assunu'd  much  larger  proi)or- 
tions,  and  the  language  of  Jesus  was  more  fully  denunciatory  of  the 
character  and  guilt  of  His  enemies.  That  charge  of  the'  Pharisees, 
therefore,  that  Jesus  cast  out  the  demons  through  the  Prince  of  the 
demons,''  as  well  as  His  rei)lv  to  it.  will  best  be  considered  wlien  it   '-st.  Matt. 

.  ix.  34 

sliall  api)ear  in  its  fullest  de\-elopment.  This  all  the  more,  that  we 
believe  at  least  the  great(>r  ])ai't  of  our  Lord's  answer  to  their  blas- 
l)hemous  accusation,  as   >ii\eii   in  St.  Mark's  Gospel,'   to  have  been   '.'^^•oo^.?;^^ 

*■  .  *  111.  ^i—o\) 

spoken  at  that  later  period. - 

It  was  on  this  return-joui'ucy  to  Capernaum  from  the  uttermost 
borders  of  txalilee,  when  I'or  the  tirst  time  He  was  not  only  followed 
by  His  twelve  A])ostles,  but  attended  by  the  loving  service  of  those 
who  owed  their  all  to  Ills  MiiiistiT.  that  the  demonized  dumb  was 
restoi'ed  l)y  the  easting  oul  of  the  demon.  Even  these  cii-eiimstances 
show  that  a  new  stage  in  the  Messianic  course  had  begun.  It  is 
characteriseil  liy  fuller  unfolding  of  Christ's   teaehing  and   working, 

Li(//i/f()()f  {Unvw  lli^l)!'.   oil    LuUc  \iii.  '.'>)  ■  linr  BiizdJi.' 

roail-^   ill    tlic    iivnealoiiT    of   Hiuiian  (in  '   Dr.  XeuhraN'r  (Stu'lia   Hilii.   p.   225) 

S()i)lu>r.    .\iii.    (i)    Bar   Kiiza.     Hut    it   is  roicard.s    Chiizn  as    an    Idiinia'an    name, 

really  Bar  Bizn,  -son  of  roiitciniit  '  -all  coiinooted  v.Uh  the  Edoinile  li'od  A'ox. 

the  names  lieiiia;  intended  as  defamatory  -  1  re.n'ard  St.   Marl';  iii.  2:!-;!0  as  com- 

ofllanian.     Similarly.  Litjhffoof  asserts  biniiiij  the  event  in  St.   Matt.   i.\.  (see  St. 

that  the  de.-iiinafion  doe.s  not   occur  in  Mark  iii.  23)  with  what  is  recorded  in  St. 

the  f>;enealo^y  of  Jlamau  in  the  Tariium  Matt.  xii.  and  St.  Luke  xi.,  and  I  account 

Esther.      But    in    the    Second    Tari!;um  for  this  eombinalion  by  the  circumstance 

Esther  (Miqraoth  G-edol.  Part  vi.  p.  .'>  a)  that  the  latter  is  not  related  by  St.  Mark, 
the  name  does  occur  in  the  nenealouy  as 


^u 


FROM    .lOKDAX   TO    THE    MOUNT    OF    TIIANSFIGIRATION. 


BOOK 

III 


•  St.  Matt, 
xi.  16-10 


'•  St.  Lukn 
vii.  17 


<•  St.  Matt. 
ix.  31 

J  St.  Mark 
ill.  32 


and,  pari  passu,  by  more  fully  developed  opjxj.-^itioii  of  the  Pharisaic 
jiarty.  For  the  two  went  together,  nor  can  they  Ix'  <listingui.shed  as 
cause  or  eti'ect.  'L'hat  new  stage,  as  repeatedly  noted,  had  oi)ened 
on  His  return  from  the  'Unknown  Feast'  in  Jerusalem,  whence  He 
seems  to  have  been  followed  by  the  Pharisaic  i)arty.  AVe  have  marked 
it  so  early  as  the  call  of  the  four  disciples  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee. 
P>ut  it  tlrst  actively  ap])eared  at  tlie  healing  of  the  i)aralytic  in 
Ca[)ernauin,  when,  for  the  first  time,  we  noticed  the  presence  and 
murmuring  of  the  Scribes,  and,  for  the  first  time  also,  the  distinct 
declaration  about  the  forgiveness  of  sins  on  the  jjart  of  .I(^sus.  The 
same  twofold  element  appeared  in  the  call  of  the  publican  Matthew, 
and  the  cavil  of  the  Pharisees  at  Chrisfs  subse(pient  eating  and 
drinking  with  'sinners."  It  was  in  further  development  of  this  sepa- 
ration from  the  old  and  now  hostile  element,  that  the  twelve  Apostles 
were  next  ajipointed,  and  that  distinctive  teaching  of  Jesus  addressed 
to  the  people  in  the  '  Sermon  on  the  Mount,"  which  was  alike  a  vin- 
dication and  an  appeal.  On  the  journey  throngli  (ialilee.  which  now 
followed,  the  hostile  party  does  not  seem  to  have  actually  attended 
Jesus;  but  their  growing,  and  now  outspoken  opposition  is  heard  in 
the  discourse  of  Christ  about  John  tlie  Baptist  after  the  dismissal  of 
his  disciples,''  while  its  influence  appears  in  the  unspoken  thoughts  of 
Simon  the  Pharisee. 

But  even  l)efore  these  two  events,  that  had  happened  whicli 
would  induce  the  Pharisaic  party  to  increased  njeasures  against 
Jesus.  It  has  already  been  suggested,  that  the  party,  as  such,  did 
not  attend  Jesus  on  His  Galilean  journey.  But  we  are  emphatically 
told,  that  tidings  of  the  raising  of  the  dead  at  Xain  had  gone  forth 
into  Judaea.''  No  doubt  they  reached  the  leaders  at  Jerusalem. 
There  seems  just  sufficient  time  l^etween  this  and  the  healing  of  the 
<lemonised  dumb  on  the  return-journey  to  Capernaum,  to  account 
for  the  presence  there  of  those  Pharisees,"  who  are  expressly  described 
by  St.  Mark"*  as  'the  Scribes  which  came  down  from  Jerusalem.' 

Other  circumstances,  also,  are  thus  explainc<l.  Whatever  view 
the  leaders  at  Jerusalem  may  have  taken  of  the  raising  at  Xain,  it 
could  no  longei'  be  denied  that  miracles  were  wrought  by  Jesus. 
At  least,  wlmt  to  us  seem  miracles,  yet  not  to  them,  since,  as  Ave 
have  seen,  '  miraculous  "  cures  and  the  expelling  of  demons  lay  within 
the  sphere  of  their  'extraordinary  ordinary' — were  not  miracles  in 
our  sense,  since  they  were,  or  professed  to  l)e,  done  l)y  theii-  •  own 
children."  The  mere  fact,  therefore,  of  such  cures,  woidd  i)resent  no 
difrHMilt\    to   them.     To   ns  a  sinjjle  well-ascertained  mii'acle  would 


TllK    (^IKSTION:     I5V    WHAT    I'OWKU    JESUS    DID    .SUCH    DEEDS?  575 

tbrm   iri-i'lragal)le  cvidciicc  of  tlic  claiiii.s  of  Clu'ist ;  to  tlitiii   it  woukl      CHAP, 
not.      The}"  could  believe  in  thi'  •  iiiii-aele.-^,' ami  yet  not  in  the  Christ.       XXII 
To   them  the  question  would  not    be,   as  to  us,   whether  the}'   were   ^— — r^^-^ 
miracles — but,  Hy  wliat  power,  or  in  what  Name,  He  did  these  deeds/ 
From  (nir  stan(li)oint,  their  oi)[)osition  to  the  Christ  wouhl — in  view 
of  His  Miracles — seem  not  only  wicked,  but  rationally'  inex})licable. 
\^\\X  ours  was  not  their  point  of  view.     And  here,  ati,'ain,  we  perceive 
that   it  was  enmity  to  the  Pei-son  and   TeadiliKj  of  Jesus  which  led 
to  the  denial  of  His  claims.     The  inquiry:   By  what  I'ower  Jesus  did 
these  works?  they  met  by  the  assertion,  that  it  was  through  that  of 
Satan,  or  the  Chief  of  the   Demons.     They  regarded   Jesus,  as   not 
only  tenq)orarily,  but  permanently,  i)ossessed  by  a  demon,  that  is,  as 
the  constant  vehicle  of  Satanic  intiuence.     And  this  demon  was.  ac- 
cording to  them,  none  other  than  Beelzebub,  the  ])rince  of  the  de\ils.'   »st.  Mark 

'  ill.  '22 

Thus,  in  their  view,  it  was  really  Satan  who  acted  in  and  through  Him: 
and  Jesus,  instead  of  being  recognised  as  the  Son  of  God,  was  regarded 
as  an  incarnation  of  Satan;  instead  of  being  owned  as  the  Messiah, 
was  denounced  and  treated  as  the  representative  of  the  Kingdom  of 
Darkness.  All  this,  because  the  Kingdom  which  He  came  to  open, 
and  which  He  preached,  was  precisely  the  opposite  of  what  they  re- 
garded as  the  Kingdom  of  God.  Thus  it  "was  the  essential  contra- 
riety of  Rabbinism  to  the  Gospel  of  the  Christ  that  lay  at  the 
foundation  of  their  conduct  towards  the  Person  of  Christ.  We  ven- 
ture to  assert,  that  this  accounts  for  the  whole  after-history  uj)  to  the 
Cross. 

Thus  viewed,  the  history  of  Pharisaic  oi)position  ai)pears  not  only 
consistent,  but  is,  so  to  si)eak,  morally  accounted  for.  Their  guilt 
lay  in  treating  that  as  Satanic  agency  which  was  of  the  Holy  Ghost; 
and  this,  because  they  were  of  their  father  the  Devil,  and  knew  not, 
nor  underst(^od.  nor  yet  loved  the  Light,  their  deeds  l)eing  evil. 
They  were  not  childi'en  of  the  light,  but  of  that  darkness  which  com- 
l)i'('li('uded  Him  not  "Who  was  the  Light.  And  now  we  can  also 
understand  the  growth  of  active  o[)i)osition  to  Christ.  Once  ai'rived 
at  the  conclusion,  that  the  miracles  which  Christ  did  were  due  to  tin- 
power  of  Satan,  and  that  He  was  the  representative  of  the  Evil  One, 
tlieir  course  was  rationally  and  morally  chosen.  To  I'cgard  every 
fresh  manifestation  of  Christ's  Power  as  only  a  fuller  development  of 
the  i)ower  of  Satan,  and  to  oppose  it  with  increasing  deterniiuation 
and  hostility,  even  to  the  Cross:  such  was  henceforth  the  natui-al 
l)rogi-ess  of  this  history.  On  the  other  hand,  such  a  course  once 
fully  settled  ujion,  there  would,  and  could,  be  no  further  reasoning 


578 


FIJOM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
111 


"  St.  Matt. 
xil.  22  &c. 
St.  Luke 
xi.  U  &c. 


b  St.  Matt. 
xi.  17,  18; 
St.  Luke 
vii.  31-32 


"  St.  Matt. 
tx.  33,  34 


rt  St.  Matt. 

xii 

.  46  &e. : 

St. 

Mark 

iii. 

31  &c. 

St. 

Luke 

viii.  19  kc. 

■^St 

;.  Matt. 

ix. 

11 

'u. 

s.ver.  14 

with,  or  against  it  on  the  part  of  Jcsut^.  llencdortli  His  Discourses 
and  attitude  to  such  Judaism  must  be  chietly  denunciatory,  while 
still  seeking — as,  from  the  inward  necessity  of  His  Nature  and  the 
outward  necessity  of  His  Mission,  He  must — to  save  the  elect  rem- 
nant from  this  '  luitoward  generation,'  and  to  lay  broad  and  wide  the 
foundations  of  the  future  Church.  But  the  old  hostile  Judaism  must 
henceforth  be  left  to  the  judgment  of  condemnation,  except  in  those 
tears  of  Divine  i)ity  which  the  Jew-King  and  Jewish  Messiah  wept 
over  the  Jerusalem  that  knew  not  the  day  of  its  visitation. 

But  all  this,  when  the  now  beginning  movement  shall  have 
reached  its  full  proportions.*  For  the  present,  we  mark  only  its  first 
appearance.  The  charge  of  Satanic  agency  was.  indeed,  not  quite 
new.  It  had  been  suggested,  that  Jolin  the  Baptist  Imd  1)een  under 
demoniacal  influence,  and  this  cunning  pretext  for  resistance  to  his 
message  had  been  eminently  successful  with  the  people.''  The  same 
charge,  only  in  much  fuller  form,  was  now  raised  against  Jesus. 
As  '  the  multitude  marvelled,  saying,  it  was  never  so  seen  in  Israel, ' 
the  Pharisees,  without  deining  the  facts,  had  tliis  explanation  of 
them,  to  be  presently  developed  to  all  its  terrible  consequences:  that, 
both  as  regarded  the  casting  out  of  the  demon  from  the  dumb  man 
and  all  similar  works,  Jesus  wrought  it  '  through  the  Ruler  of  the 
Demons.'  "  ^ 

And  so  the  edge  of  this  manifestation  of  the  Christ  was  blunted 
and  broken.  But  their  ])esetinent  of  the  Christ  did  not  cease.  It  is 
to  this  that  we  attribute  the  visit  of  Hhe  mother  and  brethren  '  of 
Jesus,  which  is  recorded  in  the  three  Synoptic  Gospels.''  Even  this 
circumstance  shows  its  decisive  importance.  It  forms  a  parallel  to  the 
tbrmer  attempts  of  the  Pharisees  to  influence  the  disciples  of  Jesus," 
and  then  to  stir  up  the  hostility  of  the  disciples  of  John,  ^6o^7io/^6'/i^e^ 
are  recorded  by  the  three  Evangelists.  It  also  1)rought  to  light  another 
distinctive  characteristic  of  the  Mission  of  Jesus.  We  place  this  visit 
of  the  'mother  and  brethren'  of  Jesus  immediately  after  His  return 
to  Capernaum,  and  we  attril)ute  it  to  Pharisaic  opposition,  which 
either  filled  those  relatives  of  Jesus  with  fear  for  His  safety,  or  made 
them  sincerely  concerned  about  His  proceedings.  Only  if  it  meant 
some  kind  of  interference  with  His  ]\Hssion,  whether  jirompted  by 
fear  oi'  atfectiou,  would  Jesus  have  so  diso\vue<l  tlieir  relationship. 


' '  At  the  same  time  I  have,  with  not  a 
few  authorities,  strong  doubts  whether 
St.  Malt.  ix.  M  is  not  to  be  reirardert  as 
an  Interpolation  (see  Wpstcott  aiid  Ilorf, 


New  Testament).  Substantially,  the 
charfje  was  there ;  but  it  seems  doubtful 
whether,  in  so  many  icords,  it  was  made 
till  a  later  period. 


i.  1 


CIIRI^^T    IX    RKLATIOX    To    HIS    MoTIlKir    AND    •  I!IM:Tni.'P:X.'  57f 

J>ut  it  lucaiit    more  tliaii  thi.s.      As  always,  tlic  positive  went  side      CHAP. 
by  side  with  the  negative.      Without  going   so  far,  as  with  some  of      XXII 
the   Fathers,  to   see  pride   or  ostentation  in  tliis,  that  the  Virgin-  ^— — r'— ^ 
Mother  summoned  Jesus  to  her  outside  the  house,  since  the  opi)Osite 
might  as  well  have  been  her  motive,  we  cannot  l)ut  regard  the  words 
of  Clirist  as  the  sternest  i)rophetic  rel)uke  of  all  Mariolatrj',  prayer 
for  the  Virgin's  intercession,  and,  still  more,  of  tlie  strange  doctrines 
about  her  freedom  from  actual  and  original  sin,  up  to  their  prurient 
sequence  in  the  dogma  of  the  '  Innnaculate  Conception." 

On  the  other  hand,  we  also  rememljer  the  deep  reverence  among 
the  Jews  for  parents,  which  found  even  exaggerated  expression  in 
the  Talmud.-''  And  we  feel  that,  of  all  in  Israel,  He,  Who  was  their  ».Jer.  Peah 
King,  could  not  have  spoken  nor  done  what  might  even  seem  tlisre- 
spectful  to  a  mother.  There  must  have  been  higlier  meaning  in  His 
words.  That  meaning  would  be  better  understood  after  His  Resur- 
rection. But  even  before  that  it  was  needful,  in  presence  of  inter- 
ference or  hindrance  by  earthly  relationships,  even  the  nearest  and 
tenderest,  and  perhaps  all  the  more  in  their  case,  to  point  to  the 
higher  and  stronger  spiritual  relationship.  And  beyond  this,  to  still 
higher  truth.  For,  had  Pie  not  entered  into  earthly  kinship  solely 
for  tlie  sake  of  the  higher  spiritual  relationship  Avhich  He  was  about 
to  found;  and  was  it  not,  then,  in  the  most  literal  sense,  that  not 
those  in  nearest  earthly  relati(jnship,  but  they  who  sat  '  about  Him, 
nay,  whoever  shall  do  the  will  of  God,"  were  really  in  closest  kinship 
with  Him?  Thus,  it  was  not  tluit  Christ  set  lightly  by  His  Mother, 
l)ut  that  He  confounded  not  the  means  with  the  end,  nor  yet  sur- 
rendered the  spirit  for  the  letter  of  the  Law  of  Love,  when,  refusing 
to  he  arrested  or  turned  aside  from  His  Mission,  even  for  a  moment,^ 
He  elected  to  do  the  Will  of  His  Father  rather  than  neglect  it  by 
attending  to  the  wishes  of  the  A^irgin-Mother.  As  Bengel  aptly  puts 
it:  He  contemns  not  the  Mother,  but  He  places  the  Father  first.* 
And  this  is  ever  the  right  relationslii})  in  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven! 

•  An  instance  oftlii:^  lias  been  ,ii;iven  in  -  Benr/el  remarks  on  St.  Matt.  xii.  AG: 

the  previous  chai)ter,  p.  5G7,  note.    Other  '  Non  plane  hie  conii-ruebat  sensus  Marise 

examples   of  tilial   reverence   are  men-  cum  sensu  Filii.' 

tioned,  some  painfully  ludicrous,  others  '^  ■  Non  speruit  Matrem,  sed  autepouit 

touching,  and  accompanied  by  sayinii's  Patrem.' 
wiiich  sometimes  rise  to  the  sublime. 


578 


FllOM    JC>KDAN    TO    THE    AlOU^'T    OF    TKAlNttFlGUKATIUM. 


CHAl'TKR  XXI II. 


BOOK 
III 


«  St.  Matt, 
Vll.  25 


''  u.  s.  vi, 
28-30 

« Tii.  16-20 


NEW  TEACHING   '  IN  PARABLES  " — THE  ]\VRABLE8  TO  THE  PEOPLE  BY  THE 
LAKE  OF  GALILEE,   AND  TH08E  TO  THE  DISCIPLES  IN  CAPERNAUM. 

(St.  Matt.  xiii.  1-52;   St.  Mark  iv.  1-34;   St.  Luke  viii.  4-18.) 


AVE  ai'c  once  more  with  Je^iis  and  His  disciples  by  the  Lake  of 
(xalih'e.  We  love  to  think  that  it  was  in  the  early  morning;,  when 
' — '  tlic  liii'lit  laid  its  o-oldcn  shadows  on  the  still  waters,  and  the  fresh  air, 
iiutiiiiitcd  l)y  man,  was  fragrant  of  earth's  morning  sacrifice,  Avhen  no 
\i)ic('  of  liiimnn  discord  marred  the  restfnlness  of  holy  silence,  nor 
l)roke  tlie  J'salm  of  Nature's  i)raise.  It  Avas  a  spring  morning  too,  and 
of  such  spring-time  as  oidy  the  East,  and  chiefly  the  Galilean  Lake, 
knows — not  of  mingled  sunshine  and  showers,  of  warmth  and  storm, 
clouds  and  l)iMg]itness,  when  life  seems  to  return  slowly  and  feehly  to 
the  i)alsicd  limbs  ot  our  northern  climes,  but  when  at  the  warm  touch 
it  l)ounds  and  throl)s  with  the  vigour  of  youth.  The  imagery  of  the 
'Sermon  on  tlic  Mount'  indicates  that  Avinter's  rain  and  storms  were 
just  past.'  lender  that  sky  Nature  seems  to  meet  tlie  coming  of 
spring  ])y  arraying  herself  in  a  garb  more  glorious  than  Solomon's 
royal  pomp.  Almost  suddenly  the  blood-red  anemones,  the  gay 
tulijis,  the  sj)otless  narcissus,  and  the  golden  ranunculus^  deck  with 
wondrous  I'ichness  the  grass  of  the  fields — alas!  so  soon  to  wither'' — 
while  all  trees  put  forth  their  fragrant  promise  of  fruit."  As  the 
imagery  cnii>loyed  in  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  confirmed  the 
inference,  otherwise  derived,  that  it  was  spoken  during  the  brief 
period  after  tlie  winter  rains,  when  the  '  lilies  '  decked  the  fresh  grass, 
so  the  scene  dej^icted  in  the  Parables  spoken  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee 
indicates  a  more  advanced  season,  when  the  fields  gave  first  promise 


'  It  adds  interest  to  tliese  Solomon-like 
lilies  that  the  Mishnah  desiijnates  one 
class  of  them,  s^rowin;;  in  fields  and  vine- 
yards, by  the  name  '  roj'al  lilv '  (Kil. 
V.  8.  Bab.  Talmud,  p.  29  a).  At  t'li(>  same 
time,  the  term  used  by  our  Lord  neeil  not 
be  confined  to  •  lilies "  in  the  strictest 
sense.     11  may  represent  the  whole  wild 


flora  of  spring-,  cliiefiy  the  anemones 
(com)).  Tristram.  Nat.  Ilist.  of  tlie  Bible, 
pj).  4fi2-46.'>).  A  word  with  the  same 
letters  as  Kpivoi  ithouich  of  difl'erent 
nu'anins;)  is  the  Rabbinic  Ndrkcs.  the 
narcissus  —  of  course  that  N"2~1  tof 
fields),  not  ND^ilji"!  (of  gardens).    . 


TIIH    TIIHHE    SERIES    OF    I'AIiAliLES.  579 

(»r  a  liai'vcst.  to  he  gathered  in  due  time.       And  as  we  know  tJiat  the  CHAP. 

barh'y-liarvest  coninicnced  with  the  i^assover,  we  cannot  be  mistaken  XVW 

in  supposing  that  tlic  scene  is  laid  a  few  wx'eks  bctbrc  that  Feast.  ^- — , — ' 

Other    evidence   of  this   is   not    wanting.       From    the    ojjcning 

verses  "we  infer,  that  Jesus  had   gone  forth  from  '  the  house  '  with  si.  Matt. 

'  xiU.  1.  2 

His  disciples  only,  and  that,  as  He  sat  by  the  seaside,  the  gathering- 
multitude  had  obliged  Him  to  enter  a  ship,  whence  He  spake  unto 
them  many  things  in  Parables.  That  this  parabolic  teaching  did  not 
follow,  far  less,  was  caused  by,  the  fully  developed  enmity  of  the 
Pharisees,''' will  appear  more  clearly  in  the  sequel.  Meantime  it  'st.  Matt. 
should  be  noticed,  that  the  first  series  of  Parables  (those  spoken  by 
the  Lake  of  Galilee)  bear  no  distinct  reference  to  it.  In  this  resi)cct 
we  mark  an  ascending  scale  in  the  three  series  of  Parables,  spoken 
respectively,  at  three  different  periods  in  the  History  of  Christ,  and 
with  reference  to  three  ditferent  stages  of  Pharisaic  opposition  and 
popular  feeling.  The  first  series  is  that,"  when  Pharisaic  opposition  ■  st.  Matt. 
had  just  devised  the  explanation  that  His  works  Avere  of  demoniac 
agency,  and  when  misled  atiection  would  have  converted  the  ties  of 
earthly  relationship  into  bonds  to  hold  the  Christ.  To  tliis  there 
was  only  one  reply,  when  the  Christ  stretched  out  His  Hand  over 
those  who  had  learned,  by  Ibllowing  Him,  to  do  the  Will  of  His 
Heavenly  Father,  and  so  become  His  nearest  of  kin.  This  was  the 
real  answer  to  the  attempt  of  His  mother  and  brethren;  that  to  the 
Phai'isaic  charge  of  Satanic  agency.  And  it  was  in  this  connection 
that,  first  to  the  multitude,  then  to  His  disciples,  the  first  series  of 
Parables  was  spoken,  which  exhibits  the  elementary  truths  concerning 
the  planting  of  the  Kingdom  of  Uod,  its  development,  reality,  value, 
and  final  vindication. 

In  the  second  series  of  Parables  we  mark  a'  different  stage.     The 
fifteen  Parables  of  which  it   consists'' were  spoken  after  the  Trans-  -ist.  Luke 
figuration,  on  the  descent  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation.     They  also  xvuZ!" 
concern  the  Kingdom  of  God,  but,  although  the  prevailing  character-  ^'^^^"" 
istic  is  still  -pare net iv,'-  or,  rather,  p]vaiigelic,  they  luave  a  controversial 
aspect  also,  as  against  some  vital,  active  opposition  to  the  Kingdom, 
chiefly  on  the  part  of  the    I'hai'isees.       Accordingly,   they   appear 
among   'the  Discourses'   (»f  Christ,''  and    are    connected    with    \\w  "St.  Luke 

.    .  xi.-xiv. 

climax  of  Pharisaic  opposition  as    presented   in   the   charge,  in   its 

'  This  seems  to  be  the  view  of  Goehel  Herrii,  Berlin  1884)  is  very  disai)pointiii^-. 
in  Ills  '  Parabeln  Jesu.'  a  book  to  wliieli  -  Admonitory,  iiortatory — a  term  used 

I  would  here,  in  .i^eneral,  ackno\vled,2;e  my  in  thenloicy.   of  wliich   it  is  not  easy  to 

oliligations.      The   latest   work    on   the  ijive  the  exact  etinivalent. 
subject    {F.    L.    Steinmrypr,  d.   Par.   d. 


580 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


^  St.  Matt, 
xvili.,  XX., 
xxl.,  xxll. 
xxiv.,xxv. 
St.  Luke 
xix. 


•  St.  Mark 
iv.  11 


most  fully  developed  Ibriii,  that  Je«us  was,  so  to  speak,  the  lucaruatioii 
of  Satan,  the  eoustaut  medium  and  vehicle  ol"  his  activity.''  This 
2vas  the  blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  All  the  Parables  spoken 
at  that  period  bear  more  or  less  direct  reference  to  it,  though,  as 
already  stated,  as  yet  in  positive  rather  than  negative  form,  the 
Evangelic  element  in  them  being  primary,  and  the  judicial  only 
secondary. 

This  or^ler  is  reversed  in  the  third  series,  consisting  of  eight  Par- 
ables." Here  the  controversial  has  not  only  the  ascendency  over  the 
Evangelic  element,  but  the  tone  has  become  judicial,  and  the  Evan- 
gelic element  appears  chiefly  in  the  form  of  certain  predictions  con- 
nected with  the  coming  end.  The  Kingdom  of  God  is  presented  in  its 
final  stage  of  ingathering,  sei)aration,  reward  and  loss,  as,  indeed,  we 
might  expect  in  the  teaching  of  the  Lord  immediately  before  His 
final  rejection  by  Israel  and  betrayal  into  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles. 

This  internal  connection  between  the  Parables  and  the  History  of 
Christ  best  explains  their  meaning.  Their  artificial  grouping  (as  by 
mostly  all  modern  critics  ')  is  too  ingenious  to  be  true.  One  thing, 
however,  is  common  to  all  the  Parables,  and  forms  a  point  of  connec- 
tion l)etween  them.  They  are  all  occasioned  by  some  unreceptiveness  on 
the  part  of  the  hearers,  and  that,  even  when  the  hearers  are  professing 
disciples.  This  seems  indicated  in  the  reason  assigned  by  Christ  to 
the  disciples  for  His  use  of  parabolic  teaching:  that  unto  them  it  was 
'given  to  know  the  mystery  of  the  Kingdom  of  God.  but  unto  them 
that  are  without,  all  these  things  are  done  in  parables."'  And  this 
may  lead  uj)  to  such  general  remarks  on  the  Parables  as  are  necessary 
for  their  understanding. 

Little  infonuation  is  to  lie  gained  from  discussing  the  etymology 
of  the  Avord  Parcbk'.'  The  verb  from  which  it  is  derived  means  to 
project;  and  the  term  itself,  the  placing  of  one  thing  by  the  side 
f)f  another.  Perhaps  no  other  mode  of  teaching  was  so  common 
among  the  Jews  ^  as  that  by  Parables.  Only  in  their  case,  they 
were  almost  entirely  illustrations  of  what  had  been  said  or  taught;* 


'  Even  Goehel,  thouji;li  ri^litly  following 
the  purely  historical  method,  has,  in  the 
interest  of  so-called  higher  criticism, 
attempted  such  artificial  grouping. 

-'  From  TtcxpaftdXXoD,  iivojicio,  ad- 
moveo  rem  rei.  coniparationis  causa 
{Grimm).  Little  can  be  learned  from  the 
classical  definitions  of  the  TtapafinX)}. 
See  Archljishop  Trench  on  the  I'arables. 

^  F.  L.  Steiiimeyer  has  most  strangely 


attempted  to  deny  this.  Yet  every 
ancient  Rabbinic  work  is  literally  fii'n 
of  paraljles.  In  Sanh.  38  b  we  read  that 
R.  Meir's  discourses  consisted  in  third  of 
legal  determinations,  in  third  of  Hagga- 
dah,  and  in  tliird  of  parables. 

■*  I  am  here  referring  only  to  the  form, 
not    the    substance,    of  se    Jewish 

parables. 


THE   PARABOLIC   TEACHING   OF   TIH-]   .JEWS    AM)   OF   (HinST. 


581 


while,  in  the  case  of  Christ,  the}'  s(^'1'vim1  as  llie  tbuiidatiou  for  His 
teaching.  In  the  one  ease,  the  light  of  earth  was  cast  heavenwards, 
in  the  other,  that  of  heaven  earthwards;  in  the  one  case,  it  was  in- 
tended to  make  si)iritual  teaching  appear  Jewish  and  national,  in  the 
other  to  convey  spiritual  teaching  in  a  tbrm  adapted  to  the  stand- 
point of  the  hearers.  This  distinction  will  be  found  to  hold  true, 
even  in  instances  where  there  seems  the  closest  parallelism  between 
a  Rabbinic  and  an  Evangelic  Parable.  On  further  examination,  the 
difference  between  them  will  appear  not  merely  one  of  degree,  but 
of  kind,  or  rather  of  standpoint.  This  may  be  illustrated  ])y  the 
Paral)le  of  the  woman  who  made  anxious  search  for  her  lost  coin,'*  to 
which  there  is  an  almost  literal  Jewish  parallel.''  But,  whereas  in 
the  Jewish  Parable  the  morid  is,  that  a  man  ought  to  take  much 
greater  jjains  in  the  study  of  the  Torah  than  in  the  search  for  coin, 
since  the  former  procures  an  eternal  reward,  while  the  coin  would,  if 
found,  at  most  only  procure  temporary  enjoyment,  the  Parable  of 
Christ  is  intended  to  set  forth,  not  the  merit  of  study  or  of  works, 
but  the  compassion  of  the  Saviour  in  seeking  the  lost,  and  the  joy 
of  Heaven  in  his  recovery.  It  need  scarcely  be  said,  that  comparison 
between  such  Parables,  as  regards  their  spirit,  is  scarcely  possible, 
except  by  way  of  contrast.' 

But,  to  return.  In  Jewish  writings  a  Parable  {Jlimshal,  Mashal, 
Mathla)  is  introduced  by  some  such  formula  as  this:  '■  I  will  tell 
thee  a  parable'  fr:,-';  "?  tIw^n).  'To  what  is  the  thing  like?  To 
one,' &c.  Often  it  begins  more  briefly,  thus:  '  A  Parable.  To  what 
is  the  thing  like?'  or  else,  simply:  'To  what  is  the  thing  like?' 
Sometimes  even  this  is  omitted,  and  the  Parable  is  indicated  by  the 
preposition  '■  to  '  at  the  beginning  of  the  illustrative  story.  Jewish 
writers  extol  Paral)les,  as  placing  the  meaning  of  the  Law  within 
range  of  the  comprehension  of  all  men.  The  '  Avise  King  '  had  intro- 
duced this  method,  the  usefulness?  of  which  is  illustrated  by  the  Parable 
of  a  great  palace  which  had  many  doors,  so  that  people  lost  their  way 
in  it,  till  one  came  who  fastened  a  ball  of  thread  at  the  chief  entrance. 
when  all  could  readily  lind  their  way  in  and  out.''  p]ven  this  will 
illustrate  what  has  been  said  of  the  difference  between  Rabbinic 
Parables  and  those  employed  l)y  our  Lord. 

The  general  distinction  between  a  Paral)le  and  a  Proverb,  Fable 
iind  Allegorv,  cannot  here  be  discussed  at  lenu-th.'-     It  will  sufficientlv 


CHAP. 
XXIII 


« St.  Luke 
XV.  8-10 

!>  In  the 
Midrash  on 
Cant.  i.  1 


"^  Midr.  OB 
Cant.  i.  1 


'  It  is,  indeefl,  itossiljle  that  the  frame- 
work of  some  of  Clirist's  Parables  may 
have  been  adopted  and  adapted  by  later 
Rabbis.     No  one  who  knows  the  earlv 


intefconrse   between   .lews   and   Jewi.sh 
Christians  would  deny  this  d  priori. 

-  I    must    here   refer  to   the   various 
Biblical  Dictionaries,  to  Professor  We.tf- 


582 


i;()M    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


•■'  St.  Matt. 
XX  iv.  32: 
St.  Mark 
iii.  23: 
St.  LukP 
V.  36 

!•  St.  Luke 
iv.  23 

•=  St.  Matt. 

XV.  lo 


appear  Iroiii  the  eliaracter  and  the  cliararteristierf  of  tlie  I'lirablcs  of 
our  Tjord.  That  designation  is,  indeed,  sometimes  applied  to  wliat 
are  not  l*iiral)les,  in  the  strictest  sense;  while  it  is  wanting  where 
we  might  have  expected  it.  Thus,  in  the  Synoptic  Gospels  illustra- 
tions," and  even  proverbial  sayings,  such  as  '  Physician,  heal  thyself,"' 
or  that  about  the  blind  leading  the  blind,  "^  are  designated  Parables. 
Again,  the  te-rm  '  Parable,'  although  used  inour  Authorised  Version, 
does  not  occur  in  the  original  of  St.  John's  Gospel;  and  this,  although 
not  a  few  illustrations  used  in  that  Gospel  might,  on  superficial  ex- 
amination, appear  to  be  Parables.  The  term  must,  therefore,  be  here 
restricted  to  special  conditions.  The  first  of  these  is,  that  all  Para- 
bles bear  reference  to  well-known  scenes,  such  as  those  of  daily 
life;  or  to  events,  either  real,  or  such  as  every  one  would  exi)e(t  in 
given  circumstances,  or  as  would  be  in  accordance  with  i)rev;iiling 
notions. ' 

Such  pictures,  familiar  to  the  popular  mind,  are  in  the  Parable 
connected  with  corresponding  spiritual  realities.  Yet,  here  also, 
there  is  that  which  distinguishes  the  Parable  from  the  mere  illus- 
tration. The  latter  conveys  no  more  than — perhaps  not  so  much  as — 
that  which  was  to  be  illustrated ;  while  the  Parable  conveys  this  and 
a  great  deal  beyond  it  to  those,  who  can  follow  up  its  shadows  to 
the  light  by  which  they  have  been  cast.  In  truth,  Parables  are  the 
outlined  shadows — large,  perhaps,  and  dim — as  the  light  of  heavenly 
things  falls  on  well-known  scenes,  which  correspond  to,  and  have  their 
higher  counterpart  in  spiritual  realities.  For,  earth  and  heaven  are 
twin-parts  of  His  works.  And,  as  the  same  law,  so  the  same  order, 
prevails  in  them;  and  they  form  a  grand  unity  in  their  relation  to 
the  Living  God  Who  reigneth.  And,  just  as  there  is  ultimately  but 
one  Law^,  one  Force,  one  Life,  which,  variously  working,  effects  and 
affects  all  the  Phenomenal  in  the  material  universe,  however  diverse 
it  may  seem,  so  is  there  but  one  Law  and  Life  as  regards  the  intel- 
lectual, moral — nay,  and  the  spiritual.  One  Law,  Force,  and  Life. 
l)inding  the  earthly  and  the  heavenly  into  a  Grand  Unity — the  out- 
come of  the  Divine  Unity,  of  which  it  is  the  manifestation.  Thus 
things  in  earth  and  heaven  are  kindred,  and  the  one  may  become 
to  us  Parables  of  the  other.  And  so,  if  the  place  of  our  resting  l)e 
Bethel,  they  become  Jacob's  ladder,  by  which  those  from  heaven  come 
down  to  earth,  and  those  from  earth  ascend  to  heaven. 

Another  characteristic  of  the  Parables,  in  the  stricter  sense,  is 


cott\<>  Introduction  to  the  Study  of  the 
Gospels  (pp.  28,  286),  and  to  the  works 
of  Archb'.sliop  Trench  and  Dr.  Goebel. 


'  Every  reader  of  the  Gospels  will  be 
able  to  distinsruish  these  various  classes. 


CHARACTERISTICS   OF   THE    PARABLES.  5H3 

tliut  ill  tluMii  the  whole  pictui-c  or  narrative  is  used  in   illii>tratioii  ol'     CHAP. 
some  heaveiilj  teacliiii,ii-,  and  not  nierelv  one  feature  or  piiase  of  it,'      XXHI 
as  in  some  of  the  parabolic  illustrations  and  jiroverbs  of  the  Syuop-  ^— -y-^--^ 
tists,  or  the  para))olie  narratives  of  the  Foiirtii  (losjx'l.      Thus,  in  the 
parabolic   illustrations  ab(jut  the   new  jiieee  of  eloth  on  the  old  ii'ar- 
ment/'  about  the  blind  leadinii-  the  blind,''  about  the  forth-i)uttiim-  of  ■  si.  Luke 

V.  30 

leaves  on  the  ti<»--tree;'  or  m  the  iiarabolie  proverb,  •  riiysieian.  heal  ,,j^j  j,,,.^ 

thyself;"''  or  in  such  iiarabolie  narratives  of  St.  John,  as  about  the  ■^'*- •*'•' 

Good  Shepherd,'  or  the  Vine  ' — in  each  case,  only-one  part  is  selected  xxiV.  32 

as  parabolic.   On  the  other  hand,  even  in  the  shortest  Parables,  such  i^?^'"^'' 

as  those  of  the  seed  growing  secretly,"  the  leaven  in  the  meal,''  and  '■st-j.-imx. 

the  ])earl  of  great  price,'  the  picture  is  complete,  and  has  not  only  in  ^^t.  John 

one   feature,  but   in  its  whole  bearing,    a  counteri)art    in  s])iritual  -st.  Mark 

'  Iv.  -26- 29 

realities.    But,  as  shown  111  the  Paral)le  of  the  seed  growing  secretly,"  1,  st.  Man. 
it  i#  not  necessary  that  the  Parable  shonld  always  contain  some  nar-  -'^"'-  *^ 
rative,  provided  that  not  only  one  feature,  but  the  whole  thing  related.    ,,  ^t!  Mark 
have  its  spiritual  application.  '^-  -'^^''' 

In  view  of  what  has  been  explained,  the  arrangement  of  the 
Parables  into  ■'^j/iubolical  and  tiipical'  can  only  ai)ply  to  their  form, 
not  their  substance.  In  the  first  of  these  classes  a  scene  from  nature 
or  from  life  serves  as  basis  for  exlii])iting  the  corresi)onding  si)iritual 
reality.  In  the  latter,  what  is  related  serves  as  type  (rt'Trocr).  not  in 
the  ordinary  sense  of  that  term,  but  in  that  not  nnfrequent  in 
Scripture:  as  example — whether  for  imitation,'"  or  in  w^arninii-."     In  "'^Piiii;.'''- 

1  1  _  _  '  '  _  17 :  1  Tim. 

the  typical  Paral)les  the  illnstration  lies,  so  to  speak,  on  the  outside:   j^- 1'^* 
in  the  symbolical,  within  the  narrative  or  scene.     The  former  are  to  n 
be  applied;  the  latter  must  be  explained. 

It  is  here  that  the  characteristic  difference  between   the  various 
classes  of  hearers  la}'.     All  the  Paraliles.  indeed,  implied  some  back- 
ground of  opi^osition.  or  else  of  unreceptiveness.     In  the  record  of 
this  first  series  of  them,"  the  fact  that  Jesus  spake  to  the  jn'ople  in    .i^fj',  ■^^""' 
Parables.'' and  o/?/?/  in  Parables,''  is  strongly  marked.      It  a])])ears,    rst.  Man. 

.  '     ■  .  xiii.  3.  and 

therefore,    to   have   been    the  first  time  that  this  mode  of  popular  ])araiieis 

'I  St.  Matt, 
xili.  :;4: 
St.  Mark 
iv.  :«.  ;u 

method.'     The  answer  of  the  Lord  makes  a  distinction  between  those  ^st.  Matt. 

xlii.  11),  and 


teaching  was  adopted  by  him.'*     Accordingly,  the  disciples  not  only 
expressed  their  astonishment,  but  iiKpiired  the  reason  of  this  novel 


Ijarallels 


'  Cremer  (Lox.  of  X.  T.  Greek,  p.  124)  ■'  Tii  tlie  Old  Testament  there  are  para- 
lays  stress  on  the  idea  of  a  comparison,  l)olic  desoriptioiis  and  utterances — esjje- 
which  is  manifestly  incorrect;  Goebel,  cially  in  Ezekiel  (xv. ;  xvi. ;  xvii. :  .\ix.), 
witli  not  much  better  reason,  on  that  of  and  a  fal)le  (.lud;;-.  ix.  7-15).  l)iit  only 
a  narrative  form.  two  ParaV)les:  the  one  tiipival  (2  Sam. 

'■^  So  by  (roe^e/.  xii.  l-(i).  theother.s7//»yw/Kv//(Is.  v.  1-6). 


584 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


» St.  Matt. 
xiii.  36,  44- 
52 


'•  St.  Matt. 
xi.  13-17 


«  St.  Matt. 
xiii.  1-9,  24- 
33 


■J  St.  Matt, 
xlli.  13-15 


to  whom  it  is  given  to  know  tho  mysteries  of  the  Kingdom,  and 
those  to  whom  all  things  wore  done  in  Parables.  But,  evidently, 
this  method  of  teaching  eould  not  have  lieen  adopted  for  the  people, 
in  (Mtntradistinetion  to  the  disciples,  and  as  ajudicial  measure,  since 
even  in  the  first  series  of  Parables  three  were  addressed  to  the  dis- 
ciples, after  the  people  had  been  dismissed.^  On  the  other  hand,  in 
answer  to  the  disciples,  the  Lord  specially  marks  this  as  the  ditfer- 
ence  between  the  teaching  vouchsafed  to  them  and  the  Parables 
spoken  to  the  people,  that  the  designed  effect  of  the  latter  was 
judicial:  to  complete  that  hardening  which,  in  its  commencement, 
had  been  caused  by  their  voluntary  rejection  ol' what  they  had  heard." 
But,  as  not  only  the  people,  but  the  disciples  also,  were  taught  by 
Parables,  the  hardening  effect  must  not  be  ascribed  to  the  parabolic 
mode  of  teaching,  now  for  the  first  time  adopted  by  Christ.  Nor  is 
it  a  sufficient  answer  to  the  question,  by  what  this  darkening  effect, 
and  hence  hardening  influence,  of  the  Parable  on  the  people  was 
caused,  that  the  first  series,  addressed  to  the  multitude,"'  consisted 
of  a  cumulation  of  Paral)les,  without  any  hint  as  to  their  meaning 
or  interpretation.^  For,  irrespective  of  other  considerations,  these 
Parables  were  at  least  as  easily  understood  as  those  spoken  imme- 
diately afterwards  to  the  disciples,  on  which,  similarly,  no  comment 
was  given  by  Jesus.  On  the  otlier  hand,  to  us  at  least,  it  seems 
clear,  that  the  ground  of  the  different  effect  of  the  Parables  on  the 
unbelieving  multitude  and  on  the  believing  disciples  was  not  objec- 
tive, or  caused  by  the  substance  or  form  of  these  Parables,  but  sub- 
jective, being  caused  by  the  different  standpoint  of  the  two  classes  of 
hearers  toward  the  Kingdom  of  God. 

This  explanation  removes  what  otherwise  would  be  a  serious 
difficulty.  For,  it  seems  impossible  to  believe,  that  Jesus  had  adopted 
a  special  mode  of  teaching  for  the  purpose  of  concealing  the  truth, 
which  might  have  saved  those  who  heard  Hini.  His  words,  indeed, 
indicate  that  such  icas  the  effect  of  the  Parables.  But  they  also 
indicate,  with  at  least  equal  clearness,  that  the  cause  of  this  harden- 
ing lay,  not  in  the  parabolic  method  of  teaching,  but  in  the  state  of 
spiritual  insensibility  at  which,  by  their  own  guilt,  they  had  pre- 
viously arrived.  Through  this,  what  might,  and,  in  other  circum- 
stances, would,  have  conveyed  spiritual  instruction,  necessarily  be- 
came tliat  which  still  further  and  fatally  darkened  and  dulled  their 
minds  and  hearts.  Thus,  their  own  hardening  merged  into  the 
judgment  of  hardening.'' 

'  !^o  even  Goehd  (i.  \)\).  ?>?>-A'l.  uiid  especially  p.  38.) 


THE    'MYSTERIES   OK   THE    KlN(;i)().M.- 


585 


We  are  now  in  soiue  nu'a.surc  abU:  to  uiKlcrstaiKl,  why  Christ  now  cHAP. 
for  the  lirst  time  adopted  })arabolic  teaehing.  Its  reason  lay  in  the  XXHI 
altered  eircuinstances  of  the  ease.  All  his  former  teaehiug  had  been  ^— ^-r^^ 
plain,  although  initial.  In  it  He  had  set  forth  by  Word,  and  ex- 
hibited by  faet  (in  miraeles),  that  Kingdom  of  God  which  He  had 
come  to  open  to  all  believers.  The  hearers  had  now  ranged  them- 
selves into  two  parties.  Those  who,  whether  temporarily  or  perma- 
nently (OS  the  result  would  show),  had  admitted  these  premisses, 
so  far  as  they  understood  them,  were  His  ))rofessing  diseiples.  On 
the  other  iiand,  tlie  iMiarisaie  party  had  now  devised  a  consistent 
theory,  according  to  which  the  acts,  and  hence  also  the  teaching, 
of  Jesus,  were  of  Satanic  origin.  Christ  must  still  i^reach  the 
Kingdom;  lor  that  purpose  had  he  come  into  tiie  woi-ld.  Only,  the 
presentation  of  that  Kingdom  nnist  now  be  for  (lecision.  It  must 
separate  the  two  classes,  leading  the  one  to  clearer  understanding  of 
the  mysteries  of  the  Kingdom — of  what  not  oidy  seems,  l)ut  to  our 
limited  thinking  really  is,  mysterious:  while  the  other  class  of 
hearers  would  now  regard  these  mysteries  as  wholly  unintelligible, 
incredible,  and  to  1)0  rejected.  And  the  ground  of  this  lay  in  the 
respective  i)ositions  of  these  two  classes  towards  tiie  Kingdom. 
'Whosoever  hath,  to  him  shall  b(^  given,  and  lie  shall  have  more 
abundance;  but  whosoever  hath  not,  from  him  shall  be  taken  away 
even  that  he  hath.'  And  the  mysterious  manner  in  which  they  were 
presented  in  Parables  was  alike  suited  to,  and  corresponded  with, 
the  character  of  these  'mysteries  of  the  Kingdom,'  now  set  forth,  not 
for  initial  instruction,  but  for  tinal  decision.  As  the  light  from 
heaven  falls  on  earthly  objects,  the  shadows  are  cast.  13ut  our 
perception  of  them,  and  its  mode,  depend  on  the  i)osition  which  we 
occupy  relatively  to  that  Light. 

And  so  it  was  not  only  l)est,  luit  most  niercirul,  that  these 
mysteries  of  substance  should  now,  also,  be  ])resented  as  mysteries 
of  form  in  Tarables.  Here  each  would  see  aecoi'ding  to  his  standjioint 
towards  the  Kingdom.  And  this  was  in  turn  determined  by  i)revious 
acceptance  or  rejection  of  that  ti'uth,  which  had  foi'merly  been  set 
fortli  in  a  plain  form  in  the  teaclung  and  aetingof  the  Christ.  Tims, 
while  to  the  opened  eyes  and  hearing  eai's  of  tlu'  one  class  would  be 
disclosed  that,  which  prophets  and  i-ighteous  men  of  old  had  desired 
but  not  attained,  to  them  who  had  voluntarily  cast  aside  what  they 
had,  would  only  come,  in  their  seeing  and  hearing,  the  final  judgment 
of  hardening.  So  would  it  be  to  each  according  to  his  standpoint. 
To  the  one  would  come  the  grace  of  final  revelation,  to  the  other  the 


586  FKOM    .lOlJD.VX    TO    THE    MOUNT    OF   TIJAXSFIOllfATlON. 

liOOK      filial  judgiiu'ut  which,  in  the  tiist  i)hic(',  liad  hccu  of  tlicirowiiclioice, 
HI         l)iit  which,  as  they  voluiitaril}    occupied  their  ijo.sitioii  rehitively  to 

— '-,' — '   Chri.st,  had  grown  into  the  fultiinient  of  the  teiTil)le    prediction  of 

■' Is.  vi. '.1,10   Esaias  concerning  the  final  hardening  of  Israel.'' 

Thus  much  in  general  explanation.     The  record  of  the  first  series 

'■St.  Mail,  ol"  Parables ''  contains  three  separate  accounts:  that  of  the  Parables 
spoken  to  the  peoi)le:  that  of  the  reason  for  the  use  of  parabolic 
teaching,  and  the  ex})lanation  of  the  first  Parables  (both  addressed  to 
the  disciples);  and,  finally,  another  series  of  I'aral)les  spoken  to  the 
disciples.     To  each  of  these  we  must  briefly  address  ourselves. 

On  that  bright  sjn'ing  morning,  when  Jesus  spoke  from  '  the  ship' 
to  the  multitude  that  crowded  the  shore.  He  addressed  to  them  these 
four  Parables:  concerning  Ilini  Who  sowed,'  concerning  the  Wheat 
and  the  Tares,  concerning  the  Mustard-Seed,  and  concerning  the 
Leaven.  The  first,  or  ))erhaps  the  two  first  of  these,  must  be  supj)le- 
mented  by  what  may  be  designated  as  a  ffth  Parable,  that  of  the 
Seed  growing  unol)servedly.     This  is  the  only  Parable  of  which  St. 

-St.  Mark  Mark  alone  has  preserved  the  record.''  All  these  Parables  refer,  as  is 
expressly  stated,  to  the  Kingdom  of  (jod;  that  is,  not  to  any  special 
l)hase  or  characteristic  of  it,  but  to  the  Kingdom  itself,  or,  in  other 
words,  to  its  history.  They  are  all  such  as  befit  an  open-air  address 
at  that  season  of  the  year,  in  that  locality,  and  to  those  hearers. 
And  yet  there  is  such  gradation  and  develoi)inent  in  them  as  might 
well  point  upwards  and  onwards. 

The  first  Parable  is  that  of  Him  Who  sowed.  We  can  almost 
picture  to  ourselves  the  Saviour  seated  in  the  prow  of  the  Ijoat,  as  He 
l)oints  His  hearers  to  the  rich  jilain  over  against  Him.  where  the 
young  corn,  still  in  the  fii'st  green  of  its  growing,  is  giving  i)roniise 
of  harvest.  Like  this  is  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  which  He  has  come 
to  proclaim.  Like  what?  Not  yet  like  that  harvest,  which  is  still 
.  in  the  future,  but  like  that  field  over  there.  The  Sower'-'  has  gone 
foith  to  sow  t\w.  Good  Seed.  W  we  bear  in  mind  a  mode  of  sowing 
ix'culiar  (if  we  are  not  mistaken)  to  those  times,  the  Parable  gains 
in  vividness.  According  to  Jewish  authorities  there  Avas  twofold 
sowing,  as  the  seed   was  eithei-  cast  by  the  hand  (t  T"*^":)   <»i"  by 

•'Aiacii.        means  of   cattle  (cins' riTiS':'')-       In  tbc  latter  case,    a   sack    with 

-j.Ta.  hneiH  ]j^^j|,^  ^^,.j^  filled  with  com  and  laid  on  the  back  of  tlie  animal,  so  that, 
as  it  moved  onwards,  the  seed  was  thickly  scattered.  Thus  it  might 
well  be,  that  it  would   fall  indiscriminately   on  beaten  roadway.''  on 

'  The  correct  rcadiiii;- ill  Sl.  ^[att.  \iii.  -'  Willi     tin-    lU'liiiilc    articlf     not    -a 

is  is  ruv  mtfifj^xyroi,  not  a7n ijjuvro^     8uvver.'  us  in  our  A.V.,  but  the  Sower. 
ii.->  in  tlic  T.  H.  ■'   TtaftCL    zip'   oSoi',  not    Ttapa    rov 


fiviiu 
JjottolU 


THE    TARABLE   OF   THE   SOWEK.  537 

stony  places  but  tliiiily  covered   witli  soil,  or   where  the  thoi'iis  had      chap. 
not  l)ccn  cleared  away,  or  undergrowth  I'roui  the  thorn-hedge  ci'ept      XXHI 
into  the  field, ^  as  well  as  on  good  ground.     The  result  in  each  ease  ^— ',^*-^ 
need  not  here  be  repeated.     But  what  meaning  would  all  this  con- 
vey to  the  Jevvisli  hearers  of  Jesus?     How  could  this  sowing  and 
growing  be  like  the  Kingdom  of  God?     Certainly  not  in  the  sense 
in  which  they  expected  it.     To  them  it  was  only  a  i-ich  harvest,  when 
all  Israel  would  bear  plenteous  fruit.     Again,  what  was  the  Seed, 
and  who  the  Sower?  or  what  could  be  meant  by  the  various  kinds 
of  soil  and  their  unproductiveness? 

To  us,  as  explained  b}^  the  Lord,  all  this  seems  i)lain.  But  to 
them  there  could  be  no  possibility  of  understanding,  but  much  occa- 
sion for  misunderstanding  it,  unless,  indeed,  they  stood  in  right 
relationship  to  the  *  Kingdom  of  God. '  The  initial  condition  requisite 
was  to  believe  that  Jesus  was  the  Divine  Sower,  and  His  Word  the 
Seed  of  the  Kingdom:  no  other  Sower  than  He,  no  other  Seed  of  the 
Kingdom  than  His  Word,  li'  this  were  admitted,  they  had  at  least 
the  right  premisses  for  understanding  'this  mystery  of  the  Kingdom.' 
According  to  Jewish  view  the  Messiah  was  to  appear  in  outward 
pomp,  and  by  display  of  power  to  establish  the  Kingdom.  But  this 
was  the  very  idea  of  the  Kingdom,  with  which  Satan  had  tempted 
Jesus  at  the  outset  of  His  Ministry.-  In  opposition  to  it  was  this 
'mystery  of  the  Kingdom,'  according  to  which  it  consisted  in  recep- 
tion of  the  Seed  of  the  Word.  That  reception  would  depend  on  the 
nature  of  the  soil,  that  is,  on  the  mind  and  heart  of  the  hearers. 
The  Kingdom  of  God  was  loithln:  it  came  neither  by  a  display  of 
power,  nor  even  by  this,  that  Israel,  or  else  the  Gospel-hearers,  were 
the  field  on  which  the  Seed  of  the  Kingdom  was  sown.  He  had 
brought  the  Kingdom:  the  Sower  had  gone  forth  to  sow.  This  was 
of  free  grace — the  Gospel.  But  the  seed  might  lall  on  the  roadside, 
and  so  perish  without  even  springing  \\\).  (Jr  it  might  fall  on  rocky 
soil,  and  so  spring  up  rapidly,  l)ut  wither  before  it  showed  promise  of 
fruit.  Or  it  might  fiill  where  thorns  grew  along  with,  and  more 
rapidly  than,  it.  And  so  it  would,  indeed,  show  promise  of  fruit; 
the  corn  might  ajipear  in  the  ear;  but  that  fruit  would  not  come  to 
ripeness  ('bring  no  fruit  to  perfecti(ni "  '),  because  the  thorns  grow-  '^.fj\- ^"^® 
ing  more  rapidly  woiUd  choke  the  corn.      Lastly,  to  this  threefold 

dypov.     I  cauiiot  uii(UM\staii(l   how  tliis  011  tlie  lii,ii;liway. 

voiul  fould  be  within  tlit*  i)Iouf;iied  and  '  Conip.  the   sli.^iit  variations  in   the 

tJdwed   tield.     Our   view  is  further  con-  tlu'ee  Gospels. 

lirinedby  St.  Luke  viii.  ."),  where  the  seed  is  -  Oonip.  tlie  ciiapter  on  tlie  Tenipla- 

described  as  •  trodden  down' — evidently  tion. 


588  FIJOM   .lOUDAX   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      faultiiiess  ofsoil,  tliroii.uii  which  the  seed  did  not  spring  up  at  all,  or 

in        merely  sprung  up,  or  just  reached  the  promise,  but  not  the  perfec- 

^•— "V*-^   tion  ofl'ruit,  corresi)ondcd  a  threefold  degree  of  fruit-bearing  in  the 

soil,  according  to  which  it  brought  forth  thirtyfold,  sixtyfold,  or  an 

hundredfold,  in  the  varying  measure  of  its  capacity. 

If  even  the  disciples  failed  to  comprehend  the  Avhole  bearing  of 
this  'Mystery  of  the  Kingdom,"  Ave  can  believe  how  utterly  strange 
and  un-Jew'ish  such  a  Parable  of  the  Messianic  Kingdom  must  have 
sounded  to  them,  who  had  been  influenced  by  the  Pluirisaic  repre- 
sentations of  the  Person  and  Teaching  of  Christ.  And  yet  the  while 
these  very  hearers  were,  unconsciously  to  themselves,  fulfilling  wliat 
Jesus  was  speaking  to  them  in  the  Parable! 
•  St.  Mark  Whether  or  not  the  Parable  recorded  by  St.  ]\Iark  alone/ con- 

Iv.  26-29 

cerning  the  Seed  growing  unobservedly,  was  spoken  afterwards  in 
private  to  the  disciples,  or,  as  seems  more  likely,  at  the  first,  and  to 
the  people  by  the  sea-shore,  this  appears  the  fittest  place  for  insert- 
ing it.  If  the  first  Paral^le,  concerning  the  Sower  and  the  Field  of 
Sowing,  would  prove  to  all  who  were  outside  the  pale  of  discipleshij) 
a  'mystery,'  while  to  those  within  it  would  unfold  knowledge  of  the 
very  mysteries  of  the  Kingdom,  this  would  even  more  fully  l)e  the 
case  in  regard  to  this  second  or  supplementary  Parable.  In  it  we 
are  only  viewing  that  portion  of  the  field,  which  the  foi-mer  Paralile 
had  described  as  good  soil.  '  So  is  the  Kingdom  of  God,  as  if  a  man 
had  cast  the  seed  on  the  earth,  and  slept  and  rose,  night  and  day, 
and  the  seed  sprang  up  and  grew:  how,  he  knows  not  liimself 
Automatons'  [self-acting]  the  earth  beareth  fruit:  first  blade,  then 
ear,  then  full  wheat  in  the  ear!  But  when  the  fruit  presents  itself, 
immediately  he  sendeth  forth  ^  the  sickle,  because  the  harvest  is 
come.'  The  meaning  of  all  this  seems  plain.  As  the  Sower,  after 
the  seed  has  been  cast  into  the  ground,  can  do  no  more;  he  goes  to 
sleep  at  night,  and  rises  by  day,  the  seed  the  meanwhile  growing,  the 
Sower  knows  not  how,  and  as  his  activity  ceases  till  the  time  that  the 
fruit  is  ripe,  when  immediately  he  thrusts  in  the  sickle — so  is  the 
Kingdom  of  God.  The  seed  is  sown;  but  its  growfh  goes  on, 
dependent  on  the  law  inherent  in  seed  and  soil,  dependent  also  on 
Heaven's  blessing  of  sunshine  and  showers,  till  the  moment  of  ripe- 
ness, when  fhe  harvest-time  is  come.      We  can  only  go   about   our 

'  I  would  here  reniai-k  in  jjeneral,  that  succession  of  the  words. 
I   have  always  adojitcd  what  seemed  to         '^  This  is  a  Hebraism — ex))laining  the 

me  the  best  attested  i-eadings,  an<l  en-  Hebrew  use  of  the  verlj  ri-^Z  in  anuio- 

deavoured  to  transhite  literally,  i)reserv-  gous  circumstances, 
in.ir.  where  it  seemed  desirable,  even  the 


THE  TARABLE  OF  THE  TARES  AMONG  THE  WHEAT. 


589 


(Uiily  work,  or  lie  down  to  rest,  as  da}' and  night  alternate;  we  see,  but 
know  not  the  how  of  the  growth  of  the  seed.  Yet,  assuredly  it  will 
ripen,  and  when  that  moment  has  arrived,  immediately  the  sickle  is 
thrust  in,  for  the  harvest  is  come.  And  so  also  with  the  Sower. 
His  outward  activity  on  earth  was  in  the  sowing,  and  it  will  be  in 
the  harvesting.  What  lies  between  them  is  of  that  other  Dispensa- 
tion of  the  Spirit,  till  He  again  send  forth  His  reapers  into  His  field. 
But  all  this  must  have  been  to  those  *  without '  a  great  mystery,  in 
no  wise  compatible  with  Jewish  notions;  while  to  them  'Avithin'  it 
proved  a  yet  greater,  and  very  needful  unfolding  of  the  mysteries  of 
the  Kingdom,  with  very  wide  application  of  them. 

The  '  mystery  '  is  made  still  further  mysterious,  or  else  it  is 
still  further  unfolded,  in  the  next  Parable  concerning  the  Tares 
sown  among  the  Wheat.  According  to  the  common  view,  these 
Tares  represent  what  is  botanically  known  as  the  '  bearded  Darnel ' 
(Lolium  temulentum),  a  poisonous  rye-grass,  very  common  in  the 
East,  '  entirely  like  wheat  until  the  ear  appears,' or  else  (according 
to  some), the  '  creeping  wheat '  or  '  couch-grass '  {Triticum  rejoens),  of 
which  the  roots  creep  underground  and  become  intertwined  with 
those  of  the  wheat.  But  the  Parable  gains  in  meaning  if  we  bear  in 
mind  that,  according  to  ancient  Jewish  (and,  indeed,  modern  Eastern) 
ideas,  the  Tares  were  not  of  different  seed,  "but  only  a  degenerate  kind 
of  wheat."  Whether  in  legend  or  symbol,  Rabbinism  has  it  that  even 
the  ground  had  been  guilty  of  fornication  before  the  judgment  of  the 
P'lood,  so  that  when  wheat  was  sown  tares  sprang  up."  The  Jewish 
hearers  of  Jesus  would,  therefore,  think  of  these  tares  as  degenerate 
kind  of  wheat,  originally  sprung  at  the  time  of  the  Flood,  through 
the  corruptness  of  the  earth,  but  now,  alas!  so  common  in  their 
fields;  wholly  undistinguishable  from  the  wheat,  till  the  fruit  ap- 
peared: noxious,  poisonous,  and  requiring  to  be  separated  from  the 
wheat,  if  the  latter  was  not  to  become  useless. 

With  these  thoughts  in  mind,  let  us  now  try  to  realise  the  scene 
pictured.  Once  more  we  see  the  field  on  which  the  corn  is  growing 
— we  know  not  how.  The  sowing  time  is  past.  '  The  Kingdom  of 
Heaven  is  become  *  like  to  a  man  who  sowed  good  seed  in  his  field. 
But  in  the  time  that  men  sleep  came  his  enemy  and  over-sowed  tares  ^ 
in  (upon)  the  midst ^  of  the  wheat,  and  went  away.'  Thus  far  the 
picture  is  true  to  nature,  since  such  deeds  of  enmity  were,  and  still 


CHAP. 
XXHI 


'  The  tense  should  here  be  marked. 
*  The  Greek  Zi^dviov  is  represented 
l)V  the  Hebrew    ^i'or  N2"- 


"  The  expression  is  of  great  import- 
ance. The  riffht  reading  is  inianeipev 
{insuper  sero — to  SOW  above),  not 
earcEipe  (sowed). 


KU.  1.  1 


•>  Jer.  KU. 
26  d 


'  Ber.  E.  28, 
ed.  Warsli. 
p.  53  a, 
about  the 
middle 


590 


YlUm   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 

in 


1  St.  Matt. 


><  St.  John 
rli.  66-70 


arc,  conunoii  in  tlic  East.  And  so  matters  would  go  on  unobserved, 
sint'o,  wiiatc'ver  kind  of  '  tares '  niay  ha  meant,  it  would,  from  their 
likeness,  be  tVn-  some  time  impossi))lo  to  distinguish  them  from  the 
wheat.  '  But  when  the  herbage  grew  and  made  fruit,  then  appeared 
(became  manifest)  also  the  tares.'  What  follows  is  equally  true  to 
fact,  since,  according  to  the  testimony  of  travellers,  most  strenuous 
efforts  arc  always  made  in  the  East  to  weed  out  the  tares.  Similarly, 
in  the  })arable,  the  servants  of  the  householder  are  introduced  as 
inquiring  whence  these  tares  had  come;  and  on  the  reply:  'A  hostile 
person  has  done  this,'  they  further  ask:  'Wilt  thou  then  that  we  go 
(straightway)  and  gather  them  together? '  The  absence  of  any  reference 
to  the  rooting  up  or  burning  the  tares,  is  intended  to  indicate,  that 
the  only  object  which  the  servants  had  in  view  was  to  keep  the  wheat 
pure  and  unmixed  for  the  harvest.  But  this  their  final  object  would 
have  been  frustrated  by  the  procedure,  which  their  inconsiderate  zeal 
suggested.  It  would,  indeed,  have  been  quite  possible  to  distinguish  the 
tares  from  the  wheat — and  the  Parable  proceeds  on  this  very  assump- 
tion— for,  l)y  their  fruit  they  would  be  known.  But  in  the  present 
instance  separation  would  have  been  impossible,  without,  at  the  same 
time,  uprooting  some  of  the  wheat.  For,  the  tares  had  been  sown 
right  into  the  midst,  and  not  merely  by  the  side,  of  the  wheat;  and 
their  roots  and  blades  must  have  become  intertwined.  And  so  they 
must  grow  together  to  the  harvest.  Then  such  danger  would  no 
longer  exist,  for  the  period  of  growing  was  past,  and  the  wheat  had 
to  be  gathered  into  the  Ijarn.  Then  would  be  the  right  time  to 
bid  the  reapers  first  gather  the  tares  into  bundles  for  burning,  that 
afterwards  the  wheat,  pure  and  unmixed,  might  be  stored  in  the 
garner. 

True  to  life  as  the  picture  is,  yet  the  Parable  was,  of  all  others, 
perhaps  the  most  un-Jcwish,  and  therefore  mysterious  and  unin- 
telligible. Hence  the  disciples  specially  asked  explanation  of  this 
only,  which  from  its  main  sulyect  they  rightly  designated  as  the 
Parable  '  of  the  Tares.'  ^  Yet  this  was  also  perhaps  the  most  import- 
ant for  them  to  understand.  For  already  '  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven  is 
become  like '  this,  although  the  appearance  of  fruit  has  not  yet  made 
it  manifest,  that  tares  have  been  sown  right  into  the  midst  of  the 
wheat.  But  they  would  soon  have  to  learn  it  in  bitter  experience 
anil  as  a  grievous  temptation,"  and  not  only  as  regarded  the  impres- 
sionable, fickle  multitude,  nor  even  the  narrower  circle  of  professing 
followers  of  Jesus,  but  that,  alas!  in  their  very  midst  there  was 
a  traitor.     And  thev  would  have  to  learn  it  more  and  more  in  the 


LESSONS   OF  FAITH   AND   PATIENCE.  59] 

time  to  come,  as  we  have  to  leani  it  to  all  ages,  till  the  'Age-'  or  CIIAP. 
'yEon-coiiipletion/ '  Most  iiccdiul,  yet  most  mysterious  also,  is  this  XXIII 
other  lesson,  as  the  experieiiee  of  tlie  Chureh  has  shown,  sinee  almost  ^•^-^,^^-^ 
every  period  of  her  hist(n-y  has  witnessed,  not  only  the  recurrenee  of 
the  i)roi)osal  to  make  the  wheat  unmixed,  while  growing,  ])y  gathering 
out  the  tares,  but  actual  attempts  towards  it.  All  such  have  proved 
failures,  because  the  field  is  the  wide  'world,'  not  a  narrow  sect; 
because  the  tares  have  been  sown  into  the  midst  of  the  wheat,  and 
l)y  the  enemy;  and  because,  if  such  gathering  were  to  take  place, 
the  roots  and  blades  of  tares  and  wheat  would  be  found  so  inter- 
twined, that  harm  would  come  to  the  wheat.  But  why  try  to  gather  the 
tares  together,  unless  from  uudiscerniug  zeal?  Or  what  have  we,  who 
are  only  the  owner's  servants,  to  do  with  it,  since  we  are  not  bidden 
of  Him?  The  'JEon-completion '  will  Avitness  the  harvest,  when  the 
separation  of  tares  and  wheat  may  not  only  be  accomplished  with 
safety,  but  shall  become  necessary.  For  the  wheat  must  be  garnered 
in  the  heavenly  storehouse,  and  the  tares  bound  in  bundles  to  be 
burned.  Then  the  harvesters  shall  be  the  Angels  of  Christ,  the 
gathered  tares  'all  the  stumbling-blocks  and  those  who  do  the 
lawlessness,'  and  their  burning  the  casting  of  them  -into  the  oven  of 
the  fire." 

More  mysterious  still,  and,  if  possible,  even  more  needful,  was 
the  instruction  that  the  Enemy  who  sowed  the  tares  was  the  Devil. 
To  the  Jews,  nay,  to  us  all,  it  may  seem  a  myster}-,  that  in  'the 
Messianic  Kingdom  of  Heaven'  there  should  be  a  mixture  of  tares 
Avitli  the  v\dieat,  the  more  mysterious,  that  the  Baptist  had  predicted 
that  the  coming  Messiah  would  thorough^  purge  His  floor.  But  to 
those  who  were  capable  of  receiving  it,  it  would  be  explained  by  the 
fact  that  the  Devil  was  'the  Eneni}^'  of  Christ,  and  of  His  Kingdom, 
and  that  he  had  sowed  those  tares.  This  would,  at  the  same  time,  be 
the  most  effective  answer  to  the  Pharisaic  charge,  that  Jesus  was  the 
Incarnation  of  Satan,  and  the  vehicle  of  his  influence.  And  once  in- 
structed in  this,  they  would  have  further  to  learn  the  lessons  of  faith 
and  patience,  connected  with  the  fact  that  the  good  seed  of  the 
Kingdom  grew  in  the  field  of  the  world,  and  hence  that,  by  the  very 
conditions  of  its  existence,  separation  by  the  hand  of  man  was  im- 
possible so  long  as  the  wheat  was  still  growing.  Yet  that  separa- 
tion would  surely  be  made  in  the  great  harvest,  to  certain,  terrible 

^  ^on,   or  ^ age,' without  the  article  -  AVith    the   two    articles:    the   well- 

iu  ver.  40,  and  so  it  should  also  he   in      known   oveu  of  the  well-kuown  tire — 
ver.  39.  Gehenna. 


592  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  \o6s  of  the  chil'lrcn  of  the  wieked  one/  and  to  tlie  'i^un-like  forthsliin- 
III  mg,'  ill  glory  of  the  righteous  in  the  Kingdom  jji-eparcd  ])\  their  Fatiier. 
^— "Y- — '  Tlie  tirst  l'aral)les  were  intended  to  ])resent  the  mysteries  of  the 
Kingdom  as  illustrated  by  the  sowing,  growing,  and  intermixture  of 
the  Seed.  The  concluding  two  Parables  set  forth  another  e(|iial]y 
mysterious  characteristic  of  the  Kingdom:  that  of  its  development 
and  power,  as  contrasted  with  its  small  and  weak  beginnings.  In  the 
Parable  of  the  Mustard-seed  this  is  shown  as  regards  the  relation  of 
the  Kingdom  to  the  outer  world;  in  that  of  the  Leaven,  in  refer- 
ence to  the  world  within  us.  The  one  exhilnts  the  extenslveness,  the 
other  the  intensiveness,  of  its  power;  in  both  cases  at  first  hidden, 
almost  imperceptible,  and  seemingly  wholly  inadequate  to  the  final 
result.  Once  more  we  say  it,  that  such  Parables  must  have  been 
utterly  unintelligibhi  to  all  who  did  not  see  in  the  humble,  despised, 
Nazarene,  and  in  His  teaching,  the  Kingdom.  But  to  those  whose 
ej'es,  ears  and  hearts  had  been  opened,  they  would  carry  most 
needed  instruction  and  most  precious  comfort  and  assurance.  Ac- 
cordingly, we  do  not  find  that  the  disciples  either  asked  or  received 
an  interpretation  of  these  Parables. 

A  few  remarks  will  set  the  special  meaning  of  these  Parables 
more  clearly  Ijcfore  us.  Here  also  the  illustrations  used  may  have 
been  at  hand.  Close  by  the  fields,  covered  with  the  fresh  green  or 
growing  corn,  to  which  Jesus  had  pointed,  may  have  been  the  garden 
with  its  growing  herbs,  Ijushes  and  plants,  and  the  home  of  the 
householder,  whose  wife  may  at  that  moment  have  been  in  sight, 
busy  preparing  the  weekly  provision  of  bread.  At  any  rate,  it  is 
necessary  to  keep  in  mind  the  hdineliness  of  these  illustrations. 
The  very  idea  of  Parables  implies,  not  strict  scientific  accuracy,  but 
popular  pictorial ness.  It  is  characteristic  of  them  to  present  vivid 
sketches  that  appeal  to  the  popular  mind,  and  exhibit  such  analogies 
of  higher  truths  as  can  be  readily  perceived  by  all.  Those  addressed 
were  not  to  weigh  every  detail,  either  logically  or  scientifically,  but 
at  once  to  recognise  the  aptness  of  the  illustration  as  presented  to 
the  popular  mind.  Thus,  as  regards  the  first  of  these  two  Parables, 
the  seed  of  the  mustard-plant  passed  in  popular  parlance  as  the 
smallest  of  seeds.^     In  fact,  the  expression,  'small  as  a  mustard-seed,' 

1  Without  here  anticipating  what  may  parabolic  teachinij.  but  in  the  present 

have  to  be  said  as  to  Christ's  teaching  of  instance  the  Parable  would  have  been 

the  tinal  fate  of  the  wicked,  it  cainiot  be  differently  worded,    if    such    dogmatic 

questioned  that  at  that  period  the  doc-  teaching  had  not  been   in   the  mind  of 

trine   of    endless'    punishment   was  the  Si)eaker  and  hearers, 

common  belief  of  the  Jews.    I  am  aware.  ^  Certainly  the  Sinnpis  nigra,  and  not 

that  dogmas  should  not  be  based  upon  the  Salvadoru  -parsica. 


PAKAIJLES   OF   THE   MUSTARD   SEED   AND   OF   THE    EEAVEN.  593 

had  become  proverbial,  and  was  used,  not  only  bj'our  Lord,''  but  f re-     CIIAP. 
quently  by  tne  Rabbis,  io  indicate  the  smallest  amount,  such  as  the      XXIII 

least  drop  of  blood,''  the  least  defilement,"  or  the  smallest  remnant  of  ' r — ' 

sun-o'low  in  the  sky.**  'But  when  it  is  ffrown,  it  is  greater  than  the  ''^'r^^tt. 
garden-herbs. '  Indeed,  it  looks  no  longer  like  a  large  garden-herb  b  Ber.  31  a 
or  shrub,  but  '  becomes,'  or  rather,  appears  like,  '  a  tree ' — as  St.  Luke  "^NWd.  v.  2 
puts  it,  '  a  great  tree,  "  ot  course,  not  m  comparison  with  other  trees,  e.  31  ed.' 
but  with  garden-shrubs.  Such  growth  of  the  mustard  seed  was  also  a  vo?.'*iii."p. 
fact  well  known  at  the  time,  and,  indeed,  still  observed  in  the  East.'      "  ,  , 

'  '  '  '■  St.  Luke 

This  is  the  first  and  main  point  in  the  Parable.     The  other,  con-  xui.is,  19 
cerning  the  birds  which  are  attracted  to  its  branches  and  'lodge  '^ 
literally,  'make  tents'- — there,  or  else  under  the  shadow  of  it,^  is  fst.  Mark 

.  .  iv.  32 

subsidiary.  Pictorial,  of  course,  this  trait  would  be,  and  we  can  the 
more  readily  understand  that  birds  would  be  attracted  to  the  branches 
or  the  shadow  of  the  mustard-plant,  when  we  know  that  mustard  was 
in  Palestine  mixed  with,  or  used  as  food  for  pigeons,*^  and  ijresumably  '^J''\\  ,, 

'  1    r>  7  1  J     Shabb.  16  c 

would  be  sought  by  other  birds.  And  the  general  meaning  would  the 
more  easily  be  apprehended,  that  a  tree,  whose  wide-spreading  branches 
aflbrded  lodgment  to  the  birds  of  heaven,  was  a  familiar  Old  Testa- 
ment figure  for  a  mighty  kingdom  that  gave  shelter  to  the  nations.''  "szek. 

°  o      ./  o  o  ^  ^        ^        XXXI.  (),  12; 

Indeed,  it  is  specifically  used  as  an  illustration  of  the  Messianic  ?^^^,  \^'o^-' 
Kingdom.'  Thus  the  Parable  would  point  to  this,  so  full  of  mystery  iEzek.xvii. 
to  the  Jews,  so  explanatory  of  the  mystery  to  the  disciples:  that  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven,  planted  in  the  field  of  the  world  as  the  smallest 
seed,  in  the  most  humble  and  unpromising  manner,  would  grow  till  it 
far  outstripped  all  other  similar  plants,  and  gave  shelter  to  all  nations 
under  heaven. 

To  this  extensive  power  of  the  Kingdom  corresponded  its  intensive 
character,  whether  in  the  world  at  large  or  in  the  individual.  This 
formed  the  subject  of  the  last  of  the  I'arables  addressed  at  this  time 
to  the  people — that  of  the  Leaven.  We  need  not  here  resort  to 
ingenious  methods  of  explaining  '  the  three  measures,' or  SeaJis,  of 
meal  in  which  the  leaven  was  hid.  Three  Seahs  were  an  Ephah,"  of  ''Men.vii.  1 
wiiich  the  exact  capacity  difl'cred  in  various  districts.  According  to 
the  so-called  'wilderness,'  or  original  Biblical,  measurenient,  it  was 

'  Comp.     Tristram,  Nat.  Hist,  of  the  glory   of    Palestine — tlie   exaggerations 

Bible,  p.  472.     The  quotations  in  Bux-  being  of  the  grossest  character. 
torfu  Lex.  Rabb.  pp.  822,  823,  on  wliich  -  Canon   Trisfram's  rendering  of  the 

the    sui)])osed  Rabbinic  ilhistrations  of  verb  (u.  s.  p.  473)  as  merely  iiercliiiig  or 

tiie  growth  of  the  plant  are  based  {Light-  resting  does  not  give  the  real  meaning  of 

font,  Srhdttijen,  Wefsfeiii,  even  Vorstius  it.     He  has  very  aptly  noticed  how  fond 

and  Wilier),  are  wholly  inapt,  being  taken  birds  are  of  the  mustard-seed, 
from  legendary  descriptions  of  the  future 


594 


FROM    .TOKOAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


<^  St.  Matt, 
xiii.  36; 
com  p.  ver. 
10,  and  St. 
Mark  iv.  10 


d  St.  John 
iv.  35 


supposed  to  ])0  a  space  holding*  432  eggs,''  while  the  Jerusalem  ei)hah 
was  one-firth,  and  the  Sei)phoris  (or  Galilean)  ephah  two-fillhs,  or, 
aecortling  to  another  authority,  oiic-lialf  larger.^  To  nii.v;  'three 
measures  '  of  meal  was  common  in  Bil)lical,  as  well  as  in  later  times." 
Xothing  further  was  therefore  convened  than  the  common  process  of 
ordinary,  everyday  life.  And  in  this,  indeed,  lies  the  very  point  of 
the  Parable,  that  the  Kingdom  of  God,  when  received  within,  would 
seem  like  leaven  hid,  but  would  gradually  pervade,  assimilate,  and 
transform  the  whole  of  our  common  life. 

With  this  most  un-Jewish,  and,  to  the  unbelieving  multitude, 
most  mysterious  characterisation  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven,  the 
Saviour  dismissed  the  people.  Enough  had  been  said  to  them  and 
for  them,  if  they  had  but  ears  to  hear.  And  now  He  was  again  alone 
witli  the  disciples  'in  the  house'  at  Capernaum,  to  which  they  had 
returned.''  Many  new  and  deeper  thoughts  of  the  Kingdom  had 
come  to  them.  But  why  had  He  so  spoken  to  tlie  multitude,  in  a 
nuinncr  so  different,  as  regarded  not  only  the  form,  but  even  the 
substance  of  His  teaching?  And  did  they  quite  understand  its 
solemn  meaning  themselves?  More  especially,  who  was  the  enemy 
whose  activity  would  threaten  the  safety  of  the  harvest?  Of  that 
harvest  they  had  already  heard  on  the  way  through  Samaria.''  And 
what  were  those  'tares,'  which  were  to  continue  in  their  very  midst 
till  the  judicial  separation  of  the  end  ?  To  these  questions  Jesus  now 
made  answer.  His  statement  of  the  reason  for  adopting  in  the  pre- 
sent instance  the  parabolic  mode  of  teaching  would,  at  the  same 
time,  give  them  farther  insight  into  those  very  mysteries  of  the 
Kingdom  which  it  had  been-  the  object  of  these  Parables  to  set 
forth. '^  His  unsolicited  explanation  of  the  details  of  the  first  Parable 
would  call  attention  to  points  that  might  readily  have  escaped  their 


1  Comp.  Herzfeld,  Handelsgesch.  d. 
Juden,  pp.   183-i85. 

-  On  Is.  Ixi.  10,  we  read  tlie  following 
beautiful  illustration,  alike  of  the  words 
of  our  Lord  in  St.  Matt.  xiii.  16,  and  of 
the  exclamation  of  the  woman  in  St. 
Luke  xi.  27:  '  Seven  garments  there  are 
with  which  the  Holy  One,  blessed  be  His 
Name,  clothed  Himself,  from  the  time  the 
world  was  created  to  the  hour  when  He 
will  execute  punishment  on  Edom  the 
wicked  (Rome).  When  He  created  the 
world.  He  clothed  himself  with  glory 
and  splendour  (Ps.  civ.  1);  when  He 
manifi'sti'd  Himself  by  the  Red  Sea,  He 
clothed  Himself  with  majesty  fPs.  .vciii. 
1);  when  He  gave  the  Law,  He  clothed 


Himself  with  strength  {ib.)\  when  He. 
forgives  the  iniquity  of  Israel,  He  clothes 
Himself  in  white  (Dan.  vii.  9);  when 
He  executeth  punishment  on  the  nations 
of  the  world,  He  clothes  himself  with 
vengeance  (Is.  lix.  17).  The  sixth  gar- 
ment He  will  put  on  in  the  hour  when 
the  Messiah  shall  be  revealed.  Then  shall 
He  clothe  Himself  with  righteousness 
(ih.).  The  seventh  garment  is  when  He 
taketh  vengeance  on  Edom,  then  shall 
He  be  clothed  in  red  (Is.  Ixiii.  2).  And 
the  garment  with  which  in  the  future  He 
will  clothe  Messiaii  shall  shine  forth  from 
one  end  of  the  world  to  the  other,  accord- 
ing to  Is.  Ixi.  10.  And  I.-srael  shall  enjoy 
His  light,  and   say,  Blessed  tlie  hour   in 


PARABLES   OF   THE   TTtEASlTRE   IN   THE    FIELD,    AND   THE   PEARL.  595 

notice,  but  wliicli,  lor  waruiiiij:  nud  inst ruction,  it  most  Ix'liovcd  them     CHAP, 
to  keep  ill  view.  XXIII 

Tlie  uii(l('rstan(lin<>;ol' the  first  Parable  seems  to  liavo  shown  tliem,  ^— ^,-— ^ 
how  much  hidden  meaning  this  teaching  conveyed,  and  to  have 
stinudated  their  desire  for  com})rehending  what  the  presence  and 
machinations  of  the  hostile  Pharisees  might,  in  some  measure,  lead 
them  to  perceive  in  dim  outline.  Yet  it  was  not  to  the  Pharisees 
that  the  Lord  referred.  The  Enemy  was  the  Devil;  the  tield,  the 
world;  the  good  seed,  the  children  of  the  Kingdom;  the  tears,  the 
children  of  the  Wicked  One.  And  most  markedly  did  the  Lord,  in 
this  instance,  not  explain  the  Parable,  as  the  first  one,  in  its  details, 
but  only  indicate,  so  to  speak,  the  stepping-stones  for  its  understand- 
ing. This,  not  only  to  train  the  disciples,  but  because — unlike  the 
first  Parable — that  of  the  Tares  would  only  in  the  future  and  in- 
creasingly unfold  its  meaning. 

But  even  this  was  not  all.  The  disciples  had  now  knowledge 
concerning  the  mysteries  of  the  Kingdom.  But  that  Kingdom  was 
not  matter  of  the  understanding  only,  but  of  jiersonal  apprehension. 
This  implied  discovery  of  its  value,  personal  acquisition  of  it,  and 
surrender  of  all  to  its  possession.  And  this  mystery  of  the  Kingdom 
was  next  conveyed  to  the  disciples  in  those  Parables  specially 
addressed  to,  and  suited  only  for,  them. 

Kindred,  or  rather  closely  connected,  as  are  the  two  Parables  of 
the  Treasure  hid  in  the  Field  and  of  the  Pearl  of  Great  Price — now 
spoken  to  the  disciples — their  differences  are  sufficiently  marked. 
In  the  first,  one  who  must  probably  be  regarded  as  intending  to  buy 
a,  if  not  this,  field,  discovers  a  treasure  hidden  there,  and  in  his  joy 
parts  with  all  else  to  become  owner  ^  of  the  field  and  of  the  hidden 
treasure  which  he  had  so  unexpectedly  found.  Some  difficulty  has 
been  expressed  in  regard  to  the  morality  of  such  a  transaction.  In 
reply  it  may  be  observed,  that  it  was,  at  least,  in  entire  accordance 
with  Jewish  law."^     If  a  man  had  found  a  treasure  in  loose  coins  "B.  Metz 

25  a,  b. 

which  Messiah   was    born;    blessed  the  p.  140  tr  and  b.) 

womb  which  bare  Ilini ;  blessed_  the  ,2;en-  '  The  e/<7ropo? — in  opposition  to  the 

eration  which  seeth,  blessed  the  ej'e  which  KdTTifXoS,  or  huckster,  small  trader — is 

isdeemed  worthy  to  behold  Him, because  the  en  gros  merchant  who  travels  from 

that  the  opening  of  His  lips  is  blessing  jilace  to  place   and  across  waters  (from 

and  peace,  His  speech  rest  to  the  soul,  and  iropoi)  to  purchase, 
security  and  rest  are  in  His  Word.     And  -  But  the  instance  quoted  by  Wetstein 

on  His  tongue  pardon  and  forgiveness;  (N.  Test.  i.  p.  407)  from  r>ablia  Mez.  29<h 

His  prayer  the  incense  of  accepted  sacri-  is  inai)t,  and   dei»ends  on  entire  mlsun- 

fice;    His  entreaty  holiness  and  purity.  derstaudiiig  (if  tlie  pii*f^:ig"e.     Tlie  K'al)])i 

Blessed  are  ye  Israel — what  is  reserved  who  found  tlie  treasure,  so  far  from  claim- 

for  you!     Even  as  it  is  written  (Ps.  xxxi.  ing,  urged  its  owner  to  take  it  back. 
20;  19  in  our  A. v.).     (Pesiqta,  ed.  7?»/;. 


596  FROM    .IOI!I)AN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  among  the  corn,  it  would  certainly  be  Lis,  if  he  bought  the  corn.  If 
in  he  had  found  it  on  the  ground,  or  in  the  soil,  it  would  equally  ccr- 
^— 'V'^^  tainly  belong  to  him,  if  he  could  claim  ownership  of  the  soil,  and 
even  if  the  tleld  were  not  his  own,  unless  others  could  prove  their 
right  to  it.  The  law  went  so  far  as  to  adjudge  to  the  purchaser  of 
fruits  anything  found  among  these  fruits.  This  will  suffice  to  vin- 
dicate a  question  of  detail,  which,  in  iiny  case,  should  not  be  too 
closely  pressed  in  a  parabolic  history. 

But  to  resume  our  analysis.  In  tlie  second  Parable  we  have  a 
wise  merchantman  who  travels  in  search  of  pearls,  and  when  he  finds 
one  which  in  value  exceeds  all  else,  he  returns  and  sells  all  that  he 
has,  in  order  to  buy  this  unique  gem.  The  supreme  value  of  the 
Kingdom,  the  consequent  desire  to  appropriate  it,  and  the  necessity 
of  parting  with  all  else  for  this  purpose,  are  the  points  common  to 
this  and  the  previous  Parable.  But  in  the  one  case,  it  is  marked 
that  this  treasure  is  hid  from  common  view  in  the  field,  and  the 
finder  makes  unexpected  discovery  of  it,  which  fills  him  with  joy. 
In  the  other  case,  the  merchantman  is,  indeed,  in  search  of  pearls, 
but  he  has  the  wisdom  to  discover  the  transcendent  value  of  this  one 
gem,  and  the  yet  greater  wisdom  to  give  up  all  further  search  and  to 
acquire  it  at  the  surrender  of  everything  else.  Thus,  tAvo  different 
aspects  of  the  Kingdom,  and  two  different  conditions  on  the  part  of 
those  who,  for  its  sake,  equally  part  with  all,  are  here  set  before  the 
disciples. 

Nor  was  the  closing  Parable  of  the  Draw-net  less  needful. 
Assuredly  it  became,  and  would  more  and  more  become,  them  to 
know,  that  mere  discipleship — mere  inclusion  in  the  Gospel-net — 
was  not  sufficient.  That  net  let  down  into  the  sea  of  this  world 
would  include  much  which,  when  the  net  was  at  last  drawn  to  shore, 
would  prove  worthless  or  even  hurtful.  To  be  a  disciple,  then,  was 
not  enough.  Even  hero  there  would  be  separation.  Not  only  the 
tares,  which  the  Enemy  had  designedly  sown  into  the  midst  of  the 
wheat,  but  even  much  that  the  Gospel-net,  cast  into  the  sea,  had  in- 
closed, would,  when  brought  to  land,  prove  fit  only  to  be  cast  away, 
into  '  the  oven  of  the  fire  where  there  is  the  wailing  and  the  gnashing 
of  teeth.  ' 

So  ended  that  spring-day  of  first  teaching  in  Parables,  to  the 
people  by  the  Lake,  and  in  the  house  at  Capernaum  to  the  disciples. 
Dim,  shadowy  outlines,  growing  larger  and  more  faint  in  their 
tracings  to  the  people;  shadowy  outlines,  growing  l)righter  and 
clearer  to  all  who  were  disciples.     Most  wondrous  instruction  to  all, 


CONTRAST  TO  JEWISH  TEACHING. 


59Y 


and  ill  all  aspects  of  it;  wliicli  even  negative  critics  admit  to  liave 
really  tbi'ined  part  of  Chiist's  own  original  teaching.  IJut  if  this  be 
tlu;  case,  we  have  two  questions  of  decisive  chai-acter  to  ask.  Un- 
doubtedly, these  Parables  were  un-Jewish.  This  ajjpesirs,  not  only 
from  a  cominirison  with  the  Jewish  views  of  the  Kingdom,  but  from 
the  fact  that  their  meaning  was  unintelligible  to  the  hearers  of 
Jesus,  and  from  this,  that,  rich  as  Jewish  teaching  is'  in  Parables, 
none  in  the  least  parallel  to  them  can  be  adduced.'  Our  first 
question,  therefore,  is:  Whence  this  un-Jewish  and  anti-Jewish 
teaching  concerning  the  Kingdom  on  the  part  of  Jesus  of  Naza- 
reth? 

Our  second  question  goes  still  farther.  For,  if  Jesus  was  not  a 
Prophet — and,  if  a  Prophet,  then  also  the  Son  of  God — yet  no 
more  strangely  unexpected  pro})hecy,  minutely  true  in  all  its  details, 
could  be  conceived,  than  that  concerning  His  Kingdom  which  His 
parabolic   description   of   it  conveyed.      Has  not   History,   in  the 


CHAP. 
XXHI 


^  The  so-called  Rabbinic  illustrations 
are  inapt,  exce\)t  as  jjer  conij-r(.  Thus,  on 
St.  Mati.  xiii.  17  it  is  to  be  remarktMl, 
that  in  Ral)l)inic  opinion  revehition  of 
God's  mysteries  would  only  be  granted 
to  those  who  were  righteous  or  learned. 
TheMidr.  ouEccl.  i.  7  contains  the  follow- 
ing Parable  in  illustration  (conip.  Dan. 
ii.  21):  A  nuitron  is  asked,  to  which  of 
two  that  would  borrow  she  would  lend 
money — to  a  rich  or  a  poor  man.  And 
when  she  answers:  To  a  rich  man,  since 
even  if  he  lost  it,  he  would  l)e  able  to 
repay,  she  is  told  that  similarly  God  gives 
not  wisdom  to  fools,  who  would  employ 
it  for  theatres  and  baths,  &c.,  but  to  the 
sages,  who  nuxke  use  of  it  in  the  Acade- 
mies. A  similar  and  even  more  strange 
explanation  of  Exod.  xv.  2(j  occurs  Ber. 
40  (I,  where  it  is  shown  that  God  su))- 
ports  the  full,  and  not,  as  man,  an  empty 
vessel.  Hence,  if  we  begin  to  learn,  or 
rejieat  what  we  have  learned,  we  shall 
learn  more,  and  conversely  also.  Fur- 
ther, on  ver.  12  we  note,  that  'to  have 
taken  away  what  one  hath '  is  a  Jewish 
proverbial  exi)ression :  '  that  which  is  in 
their  hand  shall  lie  taken  from  them ' 
(Ber.  K.  20,  ed.  Warsh.  p.  3cS  />,  last  two 
lines).  Expressions  similar  to  ver.  l(i 
are  used  l)y  the  Rabbis,  for  ex.  Chag.  14 
b.  In  regard  to  ver.  17,  R.  Eliezer  in- 
ferred froui  Exod.  XV.  '2  that  servant- 
maids  saw  at  the  Red  Sea  what  mMtluM- 
Ezekiel  nor  the  prophets  had  seen,  which 


he  corroborates'  from  Ezek.  i.  1  and  Hos. 
xii.  10  (Mechilta,  ed.  Wei'ss  ]).  44  a). 
Another  and  much  more  beautiful  i)aral- 
lelism  has  been  given  before.  On  ver. 
19  it  ought  to  be  remarked  that  the 
Wicked  One  was  not  so  much  lepresented 
by  the  Rabbis  as  the  Enemy  of  the  King- 
dom of  God,  but  as  that  of  imiividuals — 
indeed,  was  often  described  as  identical 
with  the  evil  impulse  (Yetser  haRa,  comp. 
Chag.  HJ  a;  B.  Bathr.  IGa;  Succ.  r)2  a). 
On  ver.  22  we  renuxrk,  that  not  riches, 
but  jioverty,  was  regarded  by  Ihc  llabbis 
as  that  which  choked  the  good  seed. 
On  ver.  39,  we  may  ivmark  a  som(>wliat 
similar  expression  in  B.  Mez.  S3  />:  'Let 
the  Lord  of  the  Vineyard  come  and  re- 
move the  thorns.'  On  ver.  42,  the  ex- 
pression 'oven  of  fire,' for  Gehenna,  is 
the  popular  Jewisli  one  ("liP).  Sinu- 
larly,  the  expression,  'gnashing  of  teeth.' 
chierty  characteristic  of  the  anger  and 
jealousy  of  those  in  Gehinnom,  oeeurs  in 
the  Midrash  on  Eccl.  1.  1.').  On  ver.  44 
we  refer  to  the  remarks  and  note  on  that 
Parable  (p.  595).  In  connection  with 
ver.  4(),  we  remember  that,  in  Shabb.  119 
a,  a  story  is  told  concerning  a  pearl  for 
which  a  man  had  given  his  whole  for- 
tune, hoping  thereljy  to  prevent  the  lat- 
ter being  alienated  from  him  (comp. 
Ber.  R.  11).  Lastly,  in  coimcction  with 
ver.  47  we  notice,  that  the  comparison 
of  men  with  fishes  is  a  connnon  Jewish 
one  (Abod.  Zar.  3  6;  4  a). 


598  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      strange,  uiiex})ccte(l  rultilling'of  tliat  which  no  human  ing-enuity  at  the 

ITI        time  could    have  forecast,  and  no   pen  have  described  witli  more 

'— ""v^^^   minute  accuracy  of  detail,  proved  Him  to  be  more  than  a  mere  man 

— One  sent  from  God,  the  Divine  King  of  the  Divine  Kingdom,  in  all 

the  vicissitudes  which  such  a  Divine  Kingdom  must  experience  when 

set  up  upou  earth? 


ON   THE   LAKE   OF   GALILEE.  599 


CHAPTER   XXIY, 

CHRIST    STILLS   THE    STORM    ON    THE    LAKE    OF   GALILEE. 
(St.  Matt.  viii.  18,  23-27;  St.  Mark  iv.  35-41;  St.  Luke  viii.  22-25.) 

It  was  the  evening  of  that  day  of  new  teaching,  and  once  more     CHAP. 
great  nuiltitudes  were  gathering  to  Ilim.     What  more,  or,  indeed,      XXIV 
wluit  else,  could  He  have  said  to  those  to  whom  He  had  all  that  ^— "^r — 
morning  sjjoken  in  Paral^les,  which  hearing  they  had  not  heard  nor 
understood?     It  was  this,  rather  than  weariness  after  a  long  day's 
working,  which  led  to  the  resolve  to  pass  to  the  other  side.     To  merely 
physical  weariness  Jesus  never  subordinated  his  work.     If,  therefore, 
such  had  been  the  motive,  the  proposal  to  withdraw  for  rest  would 
have  come  from  the  disciples,   while  here  the  Lord  Himself  gave 
command  to  pass  to  the  other  side.     In  truth,  after  that  day's  teach- 
ing it  was  better,  alike  for  these  multitudes  and  for  His  disciples, 
that  He  should  withdraw.     And  so  '  they  took  Him  even  as  He  was ' 
— that  is,  proba])ly  without  refreshment  of  food,  or  even  preparation 
of  it  for  the  journey.     This  indicates  how  readily,  nay,  eagerly,  the 
disciples  obeyed  the  behest. 

Whether  in  their  haste  they  heeded  not  the  signs  of  the  coming 
storm;  whether  they  had  the  secret  feeling,  that  ship  and  sea  which 
bore  such  burden  were  safe  from  tempest;  or,  whether  it  was  one  of 
those  storms  which  so  often  rise  suddenly,  and  sweep  with  such  fury 
over  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  must  remain  undetermined.  He  was  in  '  the 
ship  ' ' — whether  that  of  the  sons  of  Jonas,  or  of  Zebedee — the  '^'ell- 
known  boat,  which  was  always  ready  for  His  service,  Avhether  as 
pulpit,  resting-place,  or  means  of  journeying.  But  the  departure  had 
not  beeh  so  rapid  as  to  pass  unobserved;  and  the  ship  was  attended 
by  other  boats,  which  l)ore  those  that  would  fain  follow  Him.  In  the 
stern  of  the  ship,  on  the  low  bench  where  the  steersman  sometimes 
takes  rest,  was  pillowed  the  Head  of  Jesus.  AVeariness,  faintness, 
hunger,  exhaustion,  asserted  their  mastery  over  His  true  humanity. 

'  Tlie  definite  article  (St.  Mark  iv.  36)  marks  it  as  'the'  sliiii — a  well-known  boat 
wliicli  always  bore  Him. 


600 


FI^()^[   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
ITT 

"     '     Y      "      ' 

'  Phil.  ii.  6 


*  St.  Mark 
iv.  37 


<:  l3.  Vl.  0,  10 

•1  Ps.  cvl.  9 ; 
evil.  2.5 ; 
Is.  li.  10; 
Nah.  1.  4-7; 
Hab.  iii.  8 


Ho,  Whom  earliest  Ai)ostolic  testimony''  prcjclaimcd  to  have  l)een 
in  'the  form  of  CJod,'  slept.  Even  this  evidences  the  truth  of  the 
whole  narrative.  If  Apostolic  tradition  had  devised  this  narrative 
to  exhibit  His  Divine  Power,  why  represent  Him  as  faint  and 
asleep  in  the  ship;  and,  if  it  would  portray  Him  as  deeply  sleep- 
ing for  very  weariness,  how  could  it  ascribe  to  Him  the  power  of 
stilling  the  storm  by  His  rebuke?  Each  of  these  hy  themselves,  but 
not  the  two  in  their  combination,  would  be  as  legends  are  written. 
Their  coincidence  is  due  to  the  incidence  of  truth.  Indeed,  it  is 
characteristic  of  the  History  of  the  Christ,  and  all  the  more  evidential 
that  it  is  so  evidently  undesigned  in  the  structure  of  the  nari'ative, 
that  every  deepest  manifestation  of  His  Humanity  is  immediately 
attended  by  highest  display  of  His  Divinity,  and  each  special  display 
of  His  Divine  Power  followed  by  some  marks  of  His  true  Humanity. 
Assuredly, no  narrative  could  be  more  consistent  with  the  fundamental 
assumption  that  He  is  the  God-Man. 

Thus  viewed,  the  picture  is  unspeakably  sublime.  Jesus  is  as.leep, 
for  very  weariness  and  hunger,  in  the  stern  of  the  ship.  His  head  on 
that  low  wooden  bench,  while  the  heavens  darken,  the  wild  wind 
swoops  down  those  mountain-gorges,  howling  with  hungry  rage  over 
the  trembling  sea;  the  waves  rise  and  toss,  and  lash  and  break  over 
the  ship,  and  beat  into  it,  and  the  white  foam  washes  at  His  feet. 
His  Humanity  here  appears  as  true  as  when  He  lay  cradled  in  the 
manger;  His  Divinity,  as  when  the  sages  from  the  p]ast  laid  their 
oflferings  at  His  Feet.  But  the  danger  is  increasing — 'so  that  the 
ship  was  now  filling.'"  They  who  watched  it,  might  be  tempted  to 
regard  the  peaceful  rest  of  Jesus,  not  as  indicative  of  Divine  Majesty 
— as  it  were,  sublime  consciousness  of  absolute  safety — because  they 
did  not  fully  realize  Who  He  was.  In  that  case  it  would,  therefore, 
rather  mean  absolute  weakness  in  not  being  able,  even  at  such  a  time, 
to  overcome  the  demands  of  our  lower  nature;  real  indifference,  also, 
to  tlieir  fate — not  from  want  of  sympathy,  but  of  power.  In  short, 
it  might  lead  up  to  the  inference  that  tlie  Christ  was  a  no-Christ,  and 
the  Kingdom  of  which  he  had  spoken  in  Parables,  not  His,  in  the 
sense  of  being  identified  with  His  Person. 

In  all  this  we  perceive  already,  in  part,  the  internal  connection 
between  the  teaching  of  that  day  and  the  miracle  of  that  evening. 
Both  were  quite  novel:  the  teaching  by  Parables,  and  then  the  help 
in  a  Parable.  Both  were  founded  on  the  Old  Testament:  the  teach- 
ing on  its  predictions,''  the  miracle  on  its  proclamations  of  the  special 
Divine  Manifestations  in  the  sea; ''  and  l)oth  show  that  everything 


'LORD,    SAVE    US— WE    PERISH'!  601 

(Icpondcd  on  the  view  taken  ol"  the  Person  of  the  (Miri.-:t.      Further  CHAl*. 

teaclihiii:  conies  to  us  Ironi  the  details  of  the  narrative  which  tbih)\vs.  XXIV 

It  has  been  asked,  with  which  of  the  words  recorded  hy  the  Synop-  ^- — -r — ' 
lists  tlie  disciples  had  wakened  the  Lord:  with  those  of  entreaty  to 

save  them,"  or  witli  those  ol'  inii)atience,  perhaps  uttered  by  Peter  '  st.  Matt, 

himself?''      But    why   may  not  l)oth  acconnts   represent   what   had  st.  Luke 

passed?     Similarly,  it  has  been  asked,  which  came  first — the  Lord's  ' ''*'^- ^^^''^^ 

rebuke  of  the  disciples,  and  after  it  that  of  the  wind  and  sea,"  or  the  •  st.  Matt, 

converse?'^     Bnt,  may  it  not  be  that  each  recorded  that  first  which  ''st.  Mark 

had  most  impressed  itself  on  his  mind? — St.  Matthew,  who  had  been  st.  Luke 
in  the  ship  that  night,  the  needful  rebnke  to  the  disciples;  St.  Mark 

and  St.  Luke,  who  had  heard  it  from  others,  "^  the  help  first,  and  then  >  st.  Mark 

,      ,      „  probably 

the  rebuke^  irom 

Yet  it  is  not  easy  to  understand  what  the  disciples  had  really  ex- 
l)ected,  when  they  wakened  the  Christ  with  their  'Lord,  save  us — we 
jierish! '  Certainly,  not  that  which  actually  happened,  since  not  only 
wonder,  but  fear,  came  over  them  ^  as  they  witnessed  it.  Probaljly 
theirs  would  be  a  vague,  undefined  belief  in  the  unlimited  possibility 
of  all  in  connection  with  the  Christ.  A  belief  this,  which  seems  to 
us  quite  natural  as  we  think  of  the  gradually  emerging,  but  still  par- 
tially cloud-capped  height  of  His  Divinity,  of  which,  as  yet,  only  the 
dim  outlines  were  visible  to  them.  A  belief  this,  which  also  accounts 
for  the  co-existing,  not  of  disl)elief,  nor  even  of  unbelief,  but  of  in- 
ability of  apprehension,  which,- as  we  have  seen,  characterised  the 
bearing  of  the  Virgin-Mother.  And  it  equally  characterised  that  of 
the  disciples  up  to  the  Resurrection-morning,  bringing  them  to  the 
empty  tomb,  and  filling  them  with  unbelieving  wonder  that  the  tomb 
was  empty.  Thus,  we  have  come  to  that  stage  in  the  History  of  the 
Christ  when,  in  opposition  to  the  now  formulated  charge  of  His 
enemies  as  to"  His  Person,  neither  His  Teaching  nor  His  Working- 
could  be  fully  understood,  except  so  tar  as  his  Personality  \\'as  under- 
stood— that  He  was  of  God  and  Very  God.  And  so  we  are  gradually 
reaching  on  towards  the  expediency  and  the  need  of  the  coming  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  to  reveal  that  mystery  of  His  Person.  Similarly,  the 
two  great  stages  in  the  history  of  the  Church's  learning  were:  the 
first — to  come  to  knowledge  of  what  He  was,  by  experience  of  what 
He  did;  the  second — to  come  to  experience  of  what  He  did  and  does, 
by  knowledge  of  what  He  is.     The  former,  which  corresponds,  in  the 

1  From  the  size  of  these  boats  it  seems  shi]i.  Besides,  the  lanfjaa;i-e  of  those 
unlikely,  that  any  but  His  closest  fol-  who  called  for  help  and  the  answer  of 
lowers  would  have  found  room  in  the      Christ  Imply  the  same  thinu'. 


602 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    MOl'NT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


1U)()K 
111 


«  St.  Mark 
iv.  38 

1'  Ps.  cvi.  9; 
Nah.  i.  4 

■■•  St.  Luke 
iv.  39 

d  St.  Mark 
ix.  25 


f  St.  Mark 
i.  27 


Old  Testament,  to  the  i)atriarclial  a.n-e,  is  that  of  tiie  period  when 
Jesus  was  on  earth;  the  seeond,  whieh  answers  to  the  history  of 
Israel,  is  that  t)f  tlie  period  after  His  Ascension  into  Heaven  and 
the  Descent  of  tlie  Holy  Ghost. 

When  '  He  was  awakened ' "  by  the  voice  of  His  disciples,  '  He 
rebuked  the  wind  and  the  sea,'  as  Jehovah  had  of  old" — just  as  He 
had  '  rebuked  '  the  fevcr,'^  and  the  paroxysm  of  the  demonised/  For, 
all  are  His  creatures,  even  when  lashed  to  frenzy  of  the  '  hostile 
1)0 wer.'  And  the  sea  He  commanded  as  if  it  were  a  sentient  being: 
'Be  silent!  Be  silenced!'  And  immediately  the  wind  was  bound, 
the  panting  waves  throbbed  into  stillness,  and  a  great  calm  of  rest 
fell  upon  the  Lake.  For,  when  Christ  sleepeth,  there  is  storm;  when 
He  waketh,  great  peace.  But  over  these  men  who  had  erst  wakened 
Him  with,  their  cry,  now  crei)t  wonderment,  awe,  and  fear.  No  longer, 
as  at  His  first  wonder-working  in  Capernaum,  was  it:  '  What  is  this? ' "' 
but  ^Who,  then,  is  this?'^  And  so  the  grand  question,  which  the 
enmity  of  the  Pharisees  had  raised,  and  which,  in  part,  had  been 
answered  in  the  Parables  of  teaching,  was  still  more  fully  and  prac- 
tically met  in  what,  not  only  to  the  disciples,  but  to  all  time,  was  a 
Paraljle  of  help.  And  Jesus  also  did  wonder,  but  at  that  which  alone 
could  call  forth  His  wonder— the  unreachingnessof  their  faith:  where 
was  it?  and  how  was  it,  they  had  no  faith? 

Thus  far  the  history,  related,  often  almost  in  the  same  words,  by 
the  three  Evangelists.  On  all  sides  the  narrative  is  admitted  to  form 
part  of  the  primitive  Evangelic  tradition.  But  if  so,  then,  even  on 
the  showing  of  our  opponents,  it  must  have  had  some  foundation  in 
an  event  surpassing  the  ordinary  facts  in  the  history  of  Jesus.  Accord- 
ingly, of  all  negative  critics,  at  most  only  two  venture  to  dismiss  it 
as  unfounded  on  fact.  But  such  a  bold  assumption  would  rather  in- 
crease than  diminish  the  difliculty.  For,  if  legend  it  be,  its  invention 
and  insertion  into  the  primitive  record  must  have  had  some  historical 
reason.  Such,  however,  it  is  absolutely  impossible  here  to  trace. 
The  Old  Testament  contains  no  analogous  history  which  it  might 
have  been  wished  to  imitate;  Jewish  Messianic  expectancy  afforded 
no  basis  for  it;  and  there  is  absolutely  no  Rabbinic  parallel  ^  which 
could  be  placed  by  its  side.  Similar  objections  apply  to  the  sugges- 
tion of  exaggeration  of  some  real  event  {Keim).  For,  the  essence  of 
the  narrative  lies  in  its  details,  of  which  the  origin  and  the  universal 
acceptance  in  the  primitive  belief  of  the  Church  have  to  be  accounted 


^  So  literally.  Wpfstf p/»  (Bahhu^lez.  '>9 I>)an(\Wi()isr/it>\<i 

2  The  .supposed  Rabbinic  parallels  in      (Cbull.  7  (i)  works  are  (piite  inapplicable. 


THE    STILLING    OF   THE   STORM.  603 

for.  Nor  is  the  task  of  those  negative  critics  more  easy,  who,  u(hiiil-  chap. 
ting  the  foun(Uition  in  ftict  for  this  nai-rative,  have  snggested  various  XXlV 
theories  to  account  for  its  nii)"acuh)us  (h'tails.  Most  of  these  cxphina-  ^— ^r^^-' 
tions  are  so  unnatural,^  as  only  to  })oint  the  contrast  between  the 
ingenuity  of  the  nineteenth  century  and  the  simple,  vivid  language 
of  the  original  narrative.  For  it  seems  equally  imi)ossible  to  regard 
it  as  based  either  on  a  misunderstanding  of  the  words  of  Jesus 
during  a  storm  {Pai(lus),  or  on  the  calm  faith  of  Jesus  when  even 
the  helmsman  despaired  of  safety  {Schcnkel),  or  to  represent  it  as 
only  in  some  way  a  .symbol  of  analogous  mental  phenomena  {Ammon, 
ScMeiermacher,  Hase,  Weiszacker,  and  others).  The  very  variety 
of  explanations  proposed,  of  which  not  one  agrees  with  the  otliers, 
shows,  that  none  of  them  has  proved  satisfactory  to  any  but  their 
own  inventors.  And  of  all  it  may  be  said,  that  they  have  no  founda- 
tion whatever  in  the  narrative  itself.  Thus  the  only  alternative  left 
is  either  wholly  to  reject,  or  wholly  to  accept,  the  narrative. 

If  our  judgment  is  to  be  determined  by  the  ordinary  rules  of 
historical  criticism,  we  cannot  long  be  in  doubt  which  of  these  proposi- 
tions is  true.  Here  is  a  narrative,  which  has  the  consensus  of  the 
three  Evangelists;  which  admittedly  formed  part  of  the  original 
Evangelic  tradition;  for  the  invention  of  which  no  specific  motive  can 
l)0ssibly  be  assigned;  and  which  is  told  with  a  simi)licity  of  language 
and  a  pictorial  vividness  of  detail  that  carry  their  own  evidence.  Other 
corroborative  points,  such  as  the  unlikeliness  of  the  invention  of 
such  a  situation  for  the  Christ,  or  of  such  bearing  of  the  disciples, 
have  been  previously  indicated.  Absolute  historical  demonstration 
of  the  event  is,  of  course,  in  the  nature  of  things  impossible.  But, 
besides  the  congruousness  to  the  Parabolic  teaching  which  had  pre- 
ceded this  Parabolic  miracle,  and  the  accord  of  the  Saviour's  rel)uke 
with  His  mode  of  silencing  the  hostile  elements  on  other  occasions, 
some  further  considerations  in  evidence  may  be  oftered  to  the 
thoughtful  reader. 

For,  first,  in  this  'dominion  o\oy  the  sea,'  we  recognise,  not  only 

the  fullest  refutation  of  the  Pharisaic  misrepresentation  of  the  Person 

of  Christ,  but  the  realisation  in  the  Ideal  Man  of  the  ideal  of  man  as 

heaven-destined, "^  and  the  initial  fulfilment    of  the    i)romise    which  "Ps.  viu. 

;  4-8 

this  destination  implied.      '  Creation  '  has,  indeed,  ])een  '  made  subject 

to  vanity;""   but  this    'evil,'   which  implies  not  merely  decay  but  I'Kom. vm. 

'  The  strangest  commentation,  per-  any  kind  of  parallelism  witli  tlie  history 
liajis,  is  that  of  Volkmar  (Marcus,  i)p.  of  .lonali,  nor  yet  see  any  references  to 
i507-312).     For  I  cannot  here   perceive      the  history  of  St.  Paul's  shipwreck. 


(504  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

P.OOK      relx'llion,  was  directly  duo  to  the  Fall  of  man,    and   will   ))c  removed 
HI        at  the  final  '  manifestation  ol' the  sons  of  God.'     And  here  St.  Paul  so 

"- — ^^-^  I'ar  stands  on  the  same  ground  as  Jewish  theology,  which  also  teaches 
that  '  although  all  things  were  created  in  their  perfectness,  yet  when 

« Ber.  R.  12  the  first  Adam  sinned,  they  were  corrupted. '  "■  Christ's  dominion  over 
the  sea  was,  therefore,  only  the  Second  ami  Unfallen  Adam's  real 
dominion  over  creation,  and  the  pledge  of  its  restoration,  and  of  our 
dominion  in  the  future.  And  this  seems  also  to  throw  fresh  light  on 
Christ's  rebuke,  whether  of  storm,  disease,  or  demoniac  possession. 
Thus  there  is  a  grand  consistency  in  this  narrative,  as  regards  the 
Scriptural  presentation  of  the  Christ. 

Again,  the  narrative  expresses  very  markedly,  that  the  inter- 
position of  Christ,  alike  in  itself,  and  in  the  manner  of  it,  was  wholly 
unexpected  by,  indeed,  contrary  to  the  expectation  of,  the  disciples. 
This  also  holds  true  in  regard  to  other  of  the  great  manifestations 
of  Christ,  up  to  His  Resurrection  from  the  dead.  This,  of  course, 
proves  that  the  narrative  was  not  founded  on  existing  Jewish  ideas. 
But  there  is  more  than  this.  The  gratuitous  introduction  of  traits 
which,  so  far  from  glorifying,  would  rather  detract  from  a  legendary 
Christ,  while  at  the  same  time  they  seriously  reflect  on  the  disciples, 
presumably  the  inventors  of  the  legend,  appears  to  us  wholly  incon- 
sistent with  the  assumption  that  the  narrative  is  spurious. 

Nor  ought  we  to  overlook  another  circumstance.  While  we  regard 
the  narrative  as  that  of  an  historical  occurrence — indeed^  because  we 
do  so — we  cannot  fail  to  perceive  its  permanent  symbolic  and  typical 
bearing.  It  were,  indeed,  impossible  to  describe  either  the  history  of 
the  Church  of  Christ,  or  the  experience  of  individual  disciples,  more 
accurately,  or  with  wider  and  deeper  capability  of  application,  than  in 
the  Parable  of  this  Miracle.  And  thus  it  is  morally  true  to  all  ages; 
just  because  it  was  historically  true  at  the  first.  ^  And  as  we  enter 
on  this  field  of  contemplation,  many  views  open  to  us.  The  true 
Humanity  of  the  Saviour,  ])y  the  side  of  His  Divine  Power;  the 
sleeping  Jesus  and  the  Almighty  Word  of  rebuke  and  command  to  the 
elements,  which  lay  them  down  obedient  at  His  feet:  this  sharp-edged 
contrast  resolved  into  a  higliei-  unity — how  true  is  it  to  the  funda- 
mental thought  of  the  Gospel-History!  Then  this  other  contrast  of 
the  failure  of  faith,  and  then  the  excitement  of  the  disciples;  and  of 

^  A  fact  may  be  tbe  basis  of  a  symbol;  legend.    But,  even  so,  legend  could  never 

but  a  sj'mbol  can  never  be  the  basis  of  a  have  arisen  but  for  a  belief  in  Divine 

fact.      The   former  is   the   principle  of  history:   it  is   the    counterfeit    coin   of 

Divine    history,    the    latter    of    human  Revelation. 


LESSONS   OF   THE   MIRACLE.  605 

tlic  calm  of   the  slccpin.u-,  and  tlicii  the    Majesty  of  tlie    wakening     CHAP. 
(.'Iirist.     And,  lastly,  yet  this  third  e(jntrast  of  the  heli)lessuess  and      XXIV 
despondency  of  the  disciples  and  the  Divine  certitude  of  conscious  ^— -y-^-^ 
Omnipotence. 

We  perceive  only  difficulties  and  the  seeming-ly  impossible,  as 
we  compare  what  may  be  before  us  witli  that  which  we  consciously 
possess.  He  also  makes  this  outlook:  1)ut  only  to  know  and  show, 
that  with  Ilim  there  can  be  no  difficulty,  since  all  is  His — and  all  nuiy 
be  ours,  since  He  has  come  for  our  help  and  is  in  the  ship.  One  tiling 
only  He  wonders  at — the  shortcomings  of  our  faith;  and  one  thing 
only  makes  it  impossible  for  Him  to  help — our  unbelief. 


G06  F\l(m    JOlfDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

AT  GERASA — THE  HEALING  OF  THE  DEMONISED. 
(St.  Matt.  viii.  28-34;  St.  Alark  v.  1-20;  St.  Luke  viii.  26-39.) 

BOOK  That  day  of  wonders  was  not  yet  ended.  Most  wTitcrs  have,  indeed, 
III        suggested,  that  the  healing  of  the  demonised  on  the  other  side  took 

— ~'^ — '  place  at  early  dawn  of  the  day  following  the  storm  on  the  Lake.  But 
the  distance  is  so  short  that,  even  making  allowance  for  the  delay  by 
the  tempest,  tlie  passage  could  scarcely  have  occupied  the  whole 
night."^  This  supposition  would  be  further  confirmed,  if  '  the  evening ' 
when  Jesus  embarked  was  what  the  Jews  were  wont  to  call  '  the 
first  evening,'  that  is,  the  time  when  the  sun  was  declining  in  the 
heaven,  but  before  it  had  actually  set,  the  latter  time  being  '  the 
second  evening. '  ^  For,  it  seems  most  unlikely  that  multitudes  would 
have  resorted  to  Jesus  at  Capernaum  after  'the  second  evening,'  or 
that  either  the  disciples  or  other  boats  would  have  put  to  sea  after 
nightfall.  On  the  other  hand,  the  scene  gains  in  grandeur — has,  so 
to  speak,  a  fitting  background — if  we  suppose  the  Saviour  and  His 
disciples  to  have  landed  on  the  other  side  late  in  the  evening,  when 
perhaps  the  silvery  moon  was  shedding  her  pale  light  on  the  weird 
scene,  and  laying  her  halo  around  the  shadows  cast  upon  the  sea  by 
the  steep  cliff"  down  which  the  herd  of  swine  hurried  and  fell.  This 
would  also  give  time  afterwards  for  the  dispersion,  not  only  into  '  the 
city,'  but  into  'the  country'  of  them  who  had  fed  the  swine.  In  that 
case,  of  course,  it  would  be  in  the  early  morning  that  the  Gerasenes 
afterwards  resorted  to  Jesus  and  that  He  again  returned  to  Capernaum. 

1  In  the  history  rclatert  in  St.  Matt.  xiv.  across  would  be  five  or  six  miles.     But 

22,  &c.  the  emlnirkution  was  much  hiUn-  tlie  passage  from  Capernaum  to  Gerasa 

(see  next  note),  ami  it  is  expressly  stated  would  not  be  so  lon>i;  as  that, 

that 'the  wind  was  contrary.'     But  even  -The    distinction    between   the   two 

there,  when  it  ceased  they  were  'imme-  evenings  seems  marked  in  St.  Matt.  xiv. 

diately'  on  shore  (St.  John  vi.  2r),although  15,  as  compared  with  verse  23.     In  both 

the  distance  formerly  traversed  had  been  verses  precisely  the  same  expression  is 

rather  less  than  three-fourths  of  the  way  used.     But   between    the   first   and   the 

(twenty-five  or  thirty  furlongs,  St.  John  second  evening  a  considerable  interval 

vi.  19).     At  that  place  the  whole  distance  of  time  must  be  placed. 


Till':    •  DExMONISED '   AT   GERASA. 


60 ; 


And,  lastly,  this  would  allow  .suHicicnt  time  for  those  miracles  which 
took  i)lace  on  that  same  day  in  Capernaum  alter  His  return  thither. 
Thus,  all  the  circumstanees  lead  us  to  regard  the  healing  ol'  the 
demonised  atGerasa  as  a  night-scene,  immediately  on  Christ's  arrival 
from  Capernaum,  and  after  the  calming  of  the  storm  at  sea. 

It  gives  not  only  life  to  the  narrative,  but  greatly  illustrates  it, 
that  we  can  with  confidence  describe  the  exact  place  where  our  Lord 
and  His  disciples  touched  the  otiier  shore.  The  ruins  right  over 
against  the  plain  of  Gennesaret,  which  still  bear  the  name  ol'  Kersa  or 
Gersa,  must  represent  the  ancient  Gerasa.^  This  is  the  correct  reading 
in  St.  Mark's,  and  probably  in  St.  Luke's,  perhaps  also  in  St.  Mat- 
thew's Gospel.^  The  locality  entirely  meets  the  requirements  of  the 
narrative.  About  a  quarter  of  an  hour  to  the  south  of  Gersa  is  a 
stee]i  blutf,  which  descends  al)ruptly  on  a  narrow  ledge  of  shore.  A 
terrified  herd  running  do^wn  this  clifl'  could  not  have  recovered  its 
foothold,  and  must  inevitably  have  been  hurled  into  the  Lake  beneath. 
Again,  the  whole  country  around  is  Inirrowed  with  limestone  caverns 
and  rock-chaml)ers  for  the  dead,  such  as  those  which  were  the  dwell-, 
ing  of  the  demonised.  Altogether  the  scene  forms  a  fitting  back- 
ground to  the  narrati^  e. 

From  these  tombs  the  demonised,  who  is  specially  singled  out  by 
St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke,  as  well  as  his  less  prominent  companion,'' 
came  forth  to  meet  Jesus.  Much  that  is  both  erroneous  and  mis- 
leading has  been  written  on  Jewish  Uemonology.  According  to 
common  Jewish  superstition,  the  evil  spirits  dwelt  especially  in  lonely 
desolate  places,  and  also  among  tombs.  ^  We  must  here  remember 
what  has  previously  been  explained  as  to  the  confusion  in  the 
consciousness  of  the  demonised  between  their  own  notions  and  the 
ideas  imposed  on  them  by  the  demons.  It  is  quite  in  accordance 
with  the  Jewish  notions  of  the  demonised,  that,  according  to  the 


CHAP. 
XXV 


'  Comp.  Tristrnm\s  '  Land  of  Israel,' 
p.  4(i5;  Badeker^s  (Socitt)  Pillestiiia,  ]). 
267.  The  objection  m  Riehm's  Hund- 
wurtorb.  p.  454.  that  Gerasa  did  not  form 
part  of  the  Decapolis  manifestly  derives 
no  real  support  from  ,St.  Mark  v.  20.  The 
two  facts  are  in  no  way  inconsistent.  All 
other  localisations  are  im])ossible,  since 
the  text  requires  close  proximity  to  the 
lake.  Professor  Socin  describes  this  clitt 
as  steep  '  as  nowhere  else  by  the  lake.' 

-  In  this,  as  in  all  other  instances,  I 
can  only  indicate  the  critical  results  at 
whicli  I  liave  arrived.  For  the  grounds, 
on  which  these  conclusions  are  based,  I 
must  refer  to  the  works  which  bear  on 


the  respective  subjects. 

-  See  Appendix  XIII.,  '  An,2:eloloi>y 
and  Demonoloiiy: '  and  Aiipendlx  XYI., 
'Jewish  A'iews  about  Demons  and  tiie  De- 
monised.' Ai'chdeacon  Farrat-  has  mis- 
understood tlie  reference  of  OtJio  (Lex. 
Ral)b.  14()).  The  alfections  mentioned 
in  .ler.  Terum.  40  h  are  not  treatt'd  as 
'all  demoniacs;  '  on  the  contrary,  most 
of  them,  indeed  all,  with  one  exception, 
are  exi)ressly  stated  to  be  indications  of 
mental  disease  (comp.  also  Cha<r.  3  b). 
The  quotations  of  Gf rarer  are.  as  too 
often,  for  a  purpose,  and  untrustworthy, 
excei)t  after  examination  of  the  context. 


"  St.  Matt. 
viii.  '.iB 


608  FRo:\r  Jordan  to  the  mount  of  tkan.<figlration. 

BOOK      more  circuin.staiitiul  account  of  St.  Luke,  he  should  I'eel  as  it  were 

ni        driven  into  the  deserts,  and  that  he  was  in  the  tombs,  while,  accord- 

^— '^'"'^  ing  to  St.  Mark,  he  was  '  night  and  day  in  the  tomljs  and  in  the 

mountains,'  the  ver}^  order  of  the  words  indicating  the  notion  (as  in 

Jewish  belief),  that  it  was  chiefly  at  night  that  evil  spirits  were  wont 

to  haunt  burying-places. 

In  calling  attention  to  this  and  similar  particulars,  we  repeat, 
that  this  must  be  kept  in  view  as  characteristic  of  the  demonised, 
that  they  were  incapal)le  of  separating  their  own  consciousness  and 
ideas  from  the  influence  of  the  demon,  their  own  identity  being  merged, 
and  to  that  extent  lost,  in  that  of  their  tormentors.  In  this  respect 
the  demonised  state  was  also  kindred  to  madness.  Self-consciousness, 
or  rather  what  may  be  termed  TncUviduism,  i.e.  the  consciousness  of 
distinct  and  independent  individuality,  and  with  it  the  power  of  self- 
origination  in  matters  mental  and  moral  (which  some  might  term  an 
aspect  of  free  volition),  distinguish  the  human  soul  from  the  mere 
animal  spirit.  But  in  maniacal  disease  this  power  is  in  abeyance,  or 
temporarily  lost  through  physical  causes,  such  as  disease  of  the  brain 
as  the  medium  of  communication  between  the  mind  and  the  world  of 
sense;  disease  of  the  nervous  system,  through  which  ordinarily  im- 
pressions are  conveyed  to  and  from  the  sensorium:  or  disease  of  both 
brain  and  nervous  system,  when  previously  existing  impressions  on 
the  brain  (in  memory,  and  hence  possibly  imagination)  may  be 
excited  without  corresponding  outward  causes.  If  in  such  cases  the 
absolute  power  of  self-origination  and  self-action  is  lost  to  the  mind, 
habits  of  sin  and  vice  (or  moral  disease)  may  have  an  analogous  efiect 
as  regards  moral  freedom — the  power  of  moral  self-origination  and 
action.  In  the  demonised  state. the  two  appear  combined,  the  cause 
being  neither  disease  nor  vice,  but  the  presence  of  a  superior  power 
of  evil.  This  loss  of  individuism,  and  the  subjection  of  one's  identity 
to  that  of  the  demon  might,  while  it  lasted,  be  called  temporary 
'  possession,' in  so  far  as  the  mental  and  moral  condition  of  the  per- 
son was  for  the  time  not  one  of  freedom  and  origination,  but  in  the 
control  of  the  possessing  demon. 

One  practical  inference  may  even  now  be  drawn  from  this  some- 
what abstruse  discussion.  The  language  and  conduct  of  the  demon- 
ised, whether  seemingly  his  own,  or  that  of  the  demons  who  influenced 
him,  must  always  be  regarded  as  a  mixture  of  the  Jewish-human  and 
the  demoniacal.  The  demonised  speaks  and  acts  as  a  Jew  under  the 
control  of  a  demon.  Thus,  if  he  chooses  solitary  places  by  day,  and 
tombs  by  night,  it  is  not  that  demons  really  preferred  such  habitations. 


TIIK    DEMONISi:!)    COMIXCi    OUT   OF   Till-:   T().\IJ38.  (^09 

hut  tliat  the   Jews  iuiag'iiuMl  it,  and  that  tlie   dcinon.s,  acting  on  the      chap. 
existing  consciousness,  would  lead  him,  in  accordance  with  his  pre-       XXV 
conceived  notions,  to  select  such  places.     Here  also  mental  disease  ^— ^.' — ' 
offers  points  of  analog3^     For,  the  demonised  would  speak  and  act  in 
accordance  Avith  his  previous  (Jewish)  demonological    ideas.      He 
would  not  become  a  new  man,  but  be  the  old  man,  only  under  the 
influence  of  the  demon,  just  as  in  mania  a  person  truly  and  con- 
sistently speaks  and  acts,  although  under  the  false  impressions  which 
a  diseased  brain  conveys  to  him.     The  fact  that  in  the  demonised 
state  a  man's  identity  was  not  superseded,  but  controlled,  enables  us 
to  account  for  many  phenomena  Avithout  either  confounding  demonism 
with  mania,  or  else  imputing  to  our  Lord  such  accommodation  to  the 
notions  of  the  times,  as  is  not  only  untenable  in  itself,  but  forbidden 
even  by  the  language  of  the  present  narrative. 

The  description  of  the  demonised,  comingout  of  the  tombs  to  meet 
Jesus  as  He  touched  the  shore  at  Gerasa,  is  vivid  in  the  extreme. 
His  violence,  the  impossil)ility  of  control  by  others/  the  absence  of 
self-control,"  his  homicidal,^  and  almost  suicidal/  frenzy,  are  all 
depicted.  Evidently,  it  was  the  object  to  set  forth  the  extreme 
degree  of  the  demonised  state.  Christ,  Who  had  been  charged  by 
the  Pharisees  with  being  the  embodiment  and  messenger  of  Satan,  is 
here  face  to  face  with  the  extreme  manifestation  of  demoniac  power 
and  influence.  It  is  once  more,  then,  a  Miracle  in  Parable  which  is 
about  to  take  place.  The  question,  which  had  been  raised  by  the 
enemies,  is  about  to  be  brought  to  the  issue  of  a  practical  demonstra- 
tion. We  do  not  deny  that  the  contest  and  the  victory,  this  miracle, 
nay,  the  whole  series  of  miracles  of  which  it  forms  part,  are  extra- 
ordinary, even  in  the  series  of  Christ's  miracles.  Our  explanation 
proceeds  on  the  very  ground  that  such  was,  and  must  have  been,  the 
case.  The  teaching  l\y  Parables,  and  the  parabolic  miracles  which 
follow,  form,  so  to  speak,  an  ascending  climax,  in  contrast  to  the 
terrible  charge  which  by-and-by  would  assume  the  projiortions  of 
blasphemy  against  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  issue  in  the  betrayal  and 
judicial  murder  of  Jesus.  There  are  critical  epochs  in  the  history  of 
the  Kingdom  of  God,  when  the  power  of  evil,  standing  out  in 
sharpest  contrast,  challenges  that  overwhelming  manifestation  of  the 
Divine,  as  such,  to  bear  down  and  crush  that   which   opposes   it. 

'  St.  Mark  v.  3.  4.  not  the  nnder-ffarments. 

2  'Ware  no  clothes'  (St.  Luke  viii.  27)  •'  St.  Matt.  viii.  28. 

may,  however.  I'efer  only  to  the  upper,  *  St.  Mark  v.  5. 


610 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Mark 
V.  6: 

St.  Luke 
viii.  28 


Periods  ol'tluit  l^iiid  are  characterised  l)y  miraculous  interposition  of 
]K)\\'er,  uiiicjue  even  in  Bible-histoiT.  Such  a  period  was,  undi'r  the 
Ohl  Testament,  that  of  Elijah  and  Elisha,  with  its  altogether 
exceptional  scries  of  miracles;  and,  under  the  New  Testament, 
that  after  the  first  formulated  charge  of  the  Pharisees  against  the 
Christ. 

With  irresistible  power  the  demonised  was  drawn  to  Jesus,  as 
He  touched  the  shore  at  Gcrasa.  As  always,  the  first  effect  of  the 
contact  was  a  fresh  paroxysm,^  but  in  this  peculiar  case  not  physical, 
but  moral.  As  always  also,  the  demons  knew  Jesus,  and  His  Presence 
seemed  to  constrain  their  confession  of  themselves — and  therefore 
of  Him.  As  in  nature  the  introduction  of  a  dominant  element  some- 
times reveals  the  hidden  presence  of  others,  which  are  either  attracted 
or  repelled  by  it,  so  the  Presence  of  Christ  obliged  the  manifestation, 
and,  in  the  case  of  these  evil  spirits,  the  self-confession,  of  the  powers 
of  evil.  In  some  measure  it  is  the  same  still.  The  introduction  of 
grace  brings  to  light  and  experience  sin  hitherto  unknown,  and  the 
new  life  brings  consciousness  of,  and  provokes  contest  with,  evil 
within,  of  which  the  very  existence  had  previously  been  unsuspected. 
In  the  present  instance  the  innnediate  effect  was  homage,''  which 
presently  manifested  itself  in  language  such  as  might  have  been 
expected. 

Here  also  it  must  be  remembered,  that  both  the  act  of  homage,  or 
'  worship,'  and  the  words  spoken,  were  not  the  outcome  cither  of  the 
demonised  only,  nor  yet  of  the  demons  only,  but  a  combination  of 
the  two:  the  control  of  the  demons  being  absolute  over  the  nmn 
such  as  he  was.  Their  language  led  to  his  worship;  their  feelings 
and  fears  appeared  in  his  language.  It  was  the  self-confession  of 
the  demons,  when  obliged  to  come  into  His  Presence  and  do  homage, 
which  made  the  man  fall  down  and,  in  the  well-known  Jewish 
formula,  recorded  by  the  three  Evangelists,  say:  '  What  have  I  to  do 
with  Thee, '  oi"  rather,  '  What  between  me  and  Thee'— what  have  we 
in  common  {Mah  U  valakh)?  Similarly,  although  it  was  conscious- 
ness of  subjection  and  fear  in  His  Presence,  on  the  part  of  the 
demons,  which  underlay  the  adjuration  not  to  inflict  torment  on 
them,  yet  the  language  itself,   as  the    text  shows,  was  that  of  the 


1  In  his  endeavour  to  represent  the  de- 
monised state  as  a  species  of  mania, 
wliich  was  afiected  by  tlie  Presence  of 
Cln-ist.  Archdeacon  Farrar  malies  tlie 
foUowinfif  statement:  '  The  presence,  the 
look,  the  voice  of  Christ,  even  before  He 


addressed  these  sufferers,  seems  always 
to  have  calmed  and  overawed  them.' 
But  surely  the  very  o])iiosite  of  this  is  the 
fact,  and  the  lirst  eflect  of  contact  with 
Christ  was  not  calm,  but  a  paroxysm. 


THE   DEMONIAC   EXPRESSED   IN   FORMS   OF   JEWISH   TIIl.XKIXG.  QH 

(loinonisiMl,  and  tlic  Ibriii  in  wliich    their  fear  expressed    itself  was     CHAP. 
that  of  his  thinking.     Tlie  (U'lnons,   in  their  li(^hl  on  their  victim,       XXV 
could  not  but  own  their  inferiority,  and  apprehend  their  ilefeat  and   ^— ^r-— ' 
subjection,  especially  on  such  an  occasion;  and  the  .Jvw,  whose  con- 
sciousness was  under  their  control — not  unified,  but  identified  with  it 
— exclaimed:   '  I  adjure  Thee  by  God,  that  Thou  torment  me  not.' 

This  strange  mixture  of  the  demoniac  with  the  human,  or  rather, 
this  expression  of  underlying  demoniac  thought  in  the  forms  and 
modes  of  thinking  of  the  Jewish  victim,  explains  the  expressed  fear 
of  present  actual  torment,  or,  as  St.  Matthew,  who,  from  the  briefness 
of  his  account,  does  not  seem  to  have  been  an  eye-witness,  expresses 
it:  *  Thou  art  come  to  torment  us  before  the  time;'  and  possibly  also 
for  the  'adjuration  by  Gpd.'^  For,  as  immediately  on  the  homage 
and  protestation  of  the  demonised:  'What  between  me  and  Thee, 
Jesus,  Thou  Son  of  the  Most  High  God  ? '  Christ  had  commanded 
the  unclean  spirit  to  come  out  of  the  man,  it  may  have  been,  that  in 
so  doing  He  had  used  the  Name  of  the  Most  High  God;  or  else  the 
'adjuration'  itself  may  have  been  the  form  in  which  the  Jewish 
speaker  clothed  the  consciousness  of  the  demons,  with  which  his  own 
was  identified. 

It  may  be  conjectured,  that  it  was  partly  in  order  to  break  this 
identification,  or  rather  to  show  the  demonised  tliat  it  was  not  real, 
and  only  the  consequence  of  the  control  which  the  demons  had  over 
him,  that  the  Lord  asked  his  name.  To  this  the  man  made  answer, 
still  in  the  dual  consciousness,  'My  name  is  Legion:  for  we  are 
many.'  ^  Such  might  be  the  subjectiye  motive  for  Christ's  question. 
Its  objective  reason  may  have  been  to  show  the  power  of  the  demoniac 
possession  in  the  present  instance,  thus  marking  it  as  an  altogether 
extreme  case.  The  remembrance,  that  the  answer  is  once  more  in 
the  forms  of  Jewish  thinking,  enables  us  to  avoid  the  strange  notion 
(whether  it  express  the  opinion  of  some,  or  the  difliculties  of  others), 
that  the  word  '  Legion '  conveys  the  idea  of  six  thousand  armed  and 
strong  warriors  of  evil.  ^     For,  it  was  a  common  Jewish  idea,  that, 

1  Both  St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke  Iiave  it:  'was  a  tboroiii>;hly  Jewish  belief  that 
'  Jesus,  Son  of  the  Most  Hi<;-li  God.'  unclean    spirits  should    pass    into    the 

2  So  substantially  in  St.  I.uke,  as  in  swine.  I  nuist  take  leave  to  denj'.     One 
St.  Mark.  or  anotlier  disease,  such  as  rabies,  were, 

^  This  is  one  of  tlie  difliculties  men-  indeed,    attributed  by  some  Rabbis  to 

tioned  by  Dean  P//' «/;>//•?.     Archdeacon  the  agency  of  evil  spirits — but  there  is 

Farrar  seems   to  think   that  the   man  no  u'round   for  either  the  general  or  the 

imagined  '  (iOOO  devils  were  in   posses-  specific  statement  of  Dr.  Farrar  as  re- 

siou  of  his  soul.'     His  statement,  that  it  gards  this  '  Jewish  belief.' 


612 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOIXT   OF   TILVXSFIGrRATION. 


BOOK 
HI 


1=  St.  Mark 
V.  13 


under  cci'tiiin  circuinstaiicos,  'a  Ic.u'ion  of  liurtl'iil  si)irils''  (ofcourse 
not  ill  tlie  sense  of  a  Konian  lej^ion)  'were  on  tlie  wateli  for  men, 
saying:  When  shall  he  lall  into  the  hands  of  one  of  these  things,  and 
1)0  taken  ? '  =" 

This  identification  of  the  demons  with  the  demonised,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  he  thought  with  their  consciousness,  and  tlicy  spoke 
not  only  through  him  but  in  his  forms  of  thinking,  may  also  account 
for  the  last  and  most  difficult  part  of  this  narrative.  Their  main 
object  and  wish  was  not  to  be  banished  from  the  country  and  peoi)le, 
or,  as  St.  Luke  puts  it — again  to  'depart  into  the  abyss.'  Let  us 
now  try  to  realise  the  scene.  On  the  very  narrow  strip  of  shore, 
between  the  steep  cliff  that  rises  in  the  background  and  the  Lake, 
stand  Jesus  witli  His  disciples  and  the  demonised.  The  wish  of  the 
demons  is  not  to  be  sent  out  of  the  country — not  iKick  into  the  aliyss. 
The  one  is  the  cliff  overhead,  the  other  the  Lake  beneath:  so,  sym- 
bolically, and,  to  the  demonised,  really.  Up  on  that  cliff  a  great  herd 
of  swine  is  feeding;  up  that  cliff",  therefore,  is  'into  the  swine;'  and 
this  also  agrees  with  Jewish  thoughts  concerning  uncleanness.  The 
rendering  of  our  Autliorised  Version,"  that,  in  reply  to  the  demoniac 
entreaty,  '  forthwith  Jesus  gave  them  leave,'  has  led  to  misunder- 
standing. The  distinction  here  to  be  made  is,  though  narrow,  yet  real 
and  important.  The  verb,  which  is  the  same  in  all  the  three  Gospels, 
would  be  better  rendered  by  'suffered'  than  by  'gave  them  leave.' 
With  the  latter  we  associate  positive  permission.  Xone  such  was 
either  asked  or  given.  The  Lord  suffered  it — that  is,  He  did  not 
actually  hinder  it.-     He  only  'said  unto  them.  Go  !  ' 

What  followed  belongs  to  the  phenomena  of  supersensuous 
influences  upon  animals,  of  which  many  instances  are  recorded,  but 
the  rationale  of  which  it  is  impossible  to  explain.  How  the  unclean, 
spirits  could  enter  into  the  swine,  is  a  question  which  cannot  be 
entertained  till  we  shall  know  more  of  the  animal  soul  than  is  at 
present  within  our  range.  This,  however,  we  can  understand,  that 
under  such  circumstances  a  panic  would  seize  the  herd,  that  it  Avould 
madly  rush  down  the  steep  on  which  it  could  not  arrest  itself  and  so 
perish  in  the  sea.  And  this  also  we  can  ])erceive,  how  the  real  object 
of  the  demons  was  thus  attained;  how  they  did  /loHeave  the  country, 
when  Christ  was  entreated  to  leave  it. 


'  The  common  Rabbinic  word  for  Le- 
gion is,  indeed,  Ligyon  or  Ligijona,  but 
the  expression   (Ber.    51  a)  ,"1^4*' J?''!'?^^ 

(Istalginith)     ri?2n     *:n'"^ 
mean  anything  else   than 


T   cannot 
I   learion    of 


hurtful  spirit;*. 

'-'  Tlie  verb  iTtirpeTtoo  is  used  botli  in 
the  active  sense  of  i)ermitting.  and  in 
that  of  not  hindering.  As  to  tlie  latter 
use  of  the  word.  com]),  specially  St. 
Matt.  xix.  8;  St.  Mark  x.  4. 


'IN   HIS   KKillT   MIND'    'SITTING   AT   THE    FKKT   OF   JESUS.'  613 

The  weird  .scene  over  which  the  iiioou  had  shed  her  ghostlike      CHAP, 
light,  was  past.     The  unearthly  utterances  of  the  demonised,  the  wild       XXV 
panic  among  the  herd  on  the  clilf,  the  mad  rusli  down  the  ste6p,  the  ^— "V"*-' 
splashing  waters  as  the  helpless  animals  were  precipitated  into  the 
Lake — all  this  makes  up  a  picture,   unsurpassed  for  vivid,  terrible 
realism.     And  now  sudden  silence  has  fallen  on  them.     From  above, 
the  keepers  of  the  herd  had  seen  it  all — alike  what  had  passed 
with  the  demonised,  and  then  the  issue  in  the  destruction  of  the 
herd.     From  the  first,  as  they  saw  the  demonised,  for  fear  of  whom 
'no  man  might  pass  that  way,'  running  to  Jesus,  they  must  have 
watched  with  eager  interest.      In  the  clear  Eastern  air  not  a  word 
that  was  spoken  could  have  been  lost.     And  now  in  wild  terror  they 
tied,  into.  Gerasa — into  the  country  round  about,  to  tell  what  had 
happened. 

It  is  morning,  and  a  new  morning-sacrifice  and  morning-Psalm 
are  about  to  be  offered.  He  that  had  erst  been  the  possession  of  foul 
and  evil  spirits — a  very  legion  of  them — and  deprived  of  his  human 
individuality,  is  now  '  sitting  at  the  feet  of  Jesus,'  learning  of  Him, 
'clothed  and  in  his  right  mind.'  He  has  been  brought  to  God, 
restored  to  self,  to  reason,  and  to  human  society — and  all  this  by 
Jesus,  at  Whose  Feet  he  is  gratefully,  humbly  sitting,  'a  disciple.' 
Is  He  not  then  the  Very  Son  of  God?  Viewing  this  miracle,  as  an 
historical  fact,  viewing  it  as  a  Parabolic  Miracle,  viewing  it  also  as 
symbolic  of  what  has  happened  in  all  ages — is  He  not  the  Son  of  the 
Most  High  God?  And  is  there  not  now,  on  His  part,  in  the  morning- 
light  the  same  calmness  and  majesty  of  conscious  Almighty  Power 
as  on  the  evening  before,  when  He  rebuked  the  storm  and  calmed  the 
sea? 

One  other  point  as  regards  the  healing  of  this  domonism  deserves 
special  consideration.  Contrary  to  what  was  commonly  the  case, 
when  the  evil  spirits  came  out  of  the  demonised,  there  was  no 
paroxysm  of  j^lujsical  distress.  Was  it  then  so,  that  the  more 
complete  and  lasting  the  demoniac  possession,  the  less  of  purely 
physical  symptoms  attended  it? 

But  now  from  town  and  country  have  they  come,  who  had  been 
startled  by  the  tidings  which  those  who  fed  the  swine  had  brought. 
We  may  contrast  the  scene  with  that  of  the  shepherds  when  on 
Bethlehem's  plains  the  great  revelation  had  come  to  them,  and  they 
had  seen  the  Divine  Babe  laid  in  the  manger,  and  had  worshij^jied. 
Far  other  were  the  tidings  which  these  herdsmen  brought,  and  their 
effect.      It  is  ii()t  necessary  to  suppose,  that  their  request  that  Jesus 


614  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOIT^T   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  would  (l('i)iU't  out  of  tlieir  coasts  was  promj:)te(l  only  by  the  loss  of  the 
HI  herd  of  swine.  ^  There  could  be  no  doubt  in  their  minds,  that  One 
^— ""Y-"*-^  possessing  supreme  and  unlimited  power  was  in  their  midst.  Among 
men  superstitious,  and  unwilling  to  submit  absolutely  to  the  Kingdom 
Avhich  Christ  brought,  there  could  only  be  one  effect  of  what  they 
had  heard,  and  now  witnessed  in  the  person  of  the  healed  demon.ised 
— awe  and  fear!  The  '  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,'  is  the 
natural  expression  of  a  mind  conscious  of  sin  when  brought  into 
contact  with  the  Divine,  Whose  supreme  and  absolute  Power  is 
realised  as  hostile.  And  this  feeling  would  be  greatly  increased,  in 
measure  as  the  mind  was  under  the  influence  of  superstitious 
fears. 

In  such  place  and  circumstances  Jesus  could  not  have  continued. 
And,  as  He  entered  the  ship,  the  healed  demonised  humbly,  earnestly 
entreated,  that  he  might  go  with  his  Saviour.  It  would  have  seemed 
to  him,  as  if  he  could  not  bear  to  lose  his  new  found  happiness;  as 
if  there  were  calm,  safety,  and  happiness  only  in  His  Presence;  not 
far  from  Him — not  among  those  wild  mountains  and  yet  wilder  men. 
Why  should  he  be  driven  from  His  fellowship,  who  had  so  long  been 
an  outcast  from  that  of  his  fellow-men,  and  why  again  left  to  himself? 
So,  perhaps,  should  we  have  reasoned  and  spoken;  so  too  often  do  we 
reason  and  speak,  as  regards  ourselves  or  those  we  love.  Not  so  He 
Wlio  appoints  alike  our  discipline  and  our  work.  To  go  back,  now 
healed,  to  his  own,  and  to  pul^lish  there,  in  the  city — nay,  through 
the  whole  of  the  large  district  of  the  ten.  confederate  cities,  the 
Decapolis— how  great  things  Jesus  had  done  for  him,  such  was 
henceforth  to  be  his  life-work.  In  this  there  would  be  both  safety 
and  happiness. 

'And  all  men  did  marvel.'  And  presently  Jesus  Himself  came 
back  into  that  Decapolis,  where  the  healed  demonised  had  prepared 
the  way  for  Him.^ 

^  This  is  tlie  view  of  Archdeacon  Far-  p.  44),  that  it  seems  needless  to  reiterate 

rar.     The  Gadara   of  which   the  poets  them.     To  me  at  least  it  seems  ditticult 

Meleager  and  Philodemus  were  natives  to  understand,  how  any  reader  of  the 

was,    of  course,   not  the   scene   of  this  narrative,  who  comes  to  it  without  iire- 

miracle.  conceived  ojnnions.  can  arrive  at   any 

■^  As  this  healinir  of  the  demoni.?ed  other  conchision  than  that  either  the 
maybe  reirarded  as  the  '  test-case '  on  whole  must  be  rejected  as  mylhieal.  or 
the  ijeneral  ([ueslion.  I  have  entered  else  be  received  as  implyiiiir  that  tliere 
more  fully  on  the  discussion.  The  ariru-  was  a  demonised  state,  different  from 
ments  in  favour  of  the  jiieneral  view  madness:  that  .lesus treated  the  present 
taken  of  the  demonised  are  so  clearly  as  such;  bade  the  unclean  siiirits  jjo  out. 
and  forcil)ly  stateil  by  Archbislio))  and  by  His  word  banislied  them.  Tlie 
Trench  (on  'The  Miracles')  and  in  'The  objection  as  to  the  morality  of  tlie  de- 
Speaker's  Commentary  *  (N.  Te.>t.  vol.  i.  struction  of  the  herd  seems  scarcely  more 


THE   DEMONS   ENTERING   INTO   THE   SWINE. 


615 


wcinlity  tliaii  tlie  sneer  of  Sfrauss,  tliat 
tlie  (leviLs  iiULst.  have  been  stupitl  in  ini- 
niadiiitely  destroying  tlieir  new  luibila- 
tions.  Tiie  (luestion  of  morality  cannot 
even  be  raised,  since  Jesus  did  not  com- 
mand— only  not  hinder— the  devils  en- 
tering into  the  swine,  and  as  for  the 
destruction  of  their  new  dwellings,  so  far 
from  being  stupid,  it  certainly  did  secure 


their  undisturb('(l  continuance  in  the 
country  and  the  witiidiawai  of  Jesus. 
All  attempts  to  adapt  Ihisiuiracle  to  our 
modern  experience,  and  the  ideas  ba.sed 
upon  it,  by  leaving  out  or  rationalising 
one  or  another  trait  in  the  narrative,  are 
emphatically  failures.  We  repeat:  the 
history  must  be  received  as  it  stands — 
or  wholly  rejected. 


CHAP. 
XXV 


QIQ  FROM   JUliDAN   TO   THE   MOL'xNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 

THE    HEALING    OP    THE    WOMAN — CHRIST'S    PEESONAL    APPEARANCE — 
THE   RAISING   OF  JAIRUS'    DAUGHTER. 

(St.  Matt.  ix.  18-26;  St.  Mark  v.  21-43;  St.  Luke  viii.  40-56.) 

BOOK      There  seems  remarkable  con-espondcnec  between  the  two  miracles 
III        which  Jesus  had  wrought  on  leaving  Capernaum  and  those  which 

. -^ He  did  on  His  return.     In  one  sense  they  are  complementary  to  each 

other.  The  stilling  of  the  storm  and  the  healing  of  the  demonised 
were  manifestations  of  the  absolute  power  inherent  in  Christ;  the  re- 
covery of  the  woman  and  the  raising  of  Jairus'  daughter,  evidence  of- 
the  absolute  efficacy  of  faith.  The  unlikeliness  of  dominion  over  the 
storm,  and  of  command  over  a  legion  of  demons,  answers  to  that  oi 
recovery  obtained  in  such  a  manner,  and  of  restoration  when  disease 
had  passed  into  actual  death.  Even  the  circumstances  seem  to 
correspond,  though  at  opposite  poles;  in  the  one  case,  the  Word 
spoken  to  the  unconscious  element,  in  the  other  the  touch  of  the 
unconscious  Christ;  in  the  one  case  the  absolute  command  of  Christ 
over  a  world  of  resisting  demons,  in  the  other  absolute  certainty 
of  faith  as  against  the  hostile  element,  of  actual  fact.  Thus  the 
Divine  character  of  the  Saviour  appears  in  the  absoluteness  of  His 
Omnipotence,  and  the  Divine  character  of  His  ]\rission  in  the  all- 
powerfulness  of  faith  which  it  called  forth. 

On  the  shore  at  Capernaum  many  were  gathered  on  the  morning 
after  the  storm.  It  may  have  been,  that  the  boats  which  had  accom- 
panied His  had  returned  to  friendly  shelter,  ere  the  storm  had  risen 
to  fidl  fury,  and  had  brought  anxious  tidings  of  the  storm  out  on  the 
Lake.  There  they  were  gathered  now  in  the  calm  morning,  friends 
eagerly  looking  out  for  the  well-known  boat  that  bore  the  Master 
and  His  disciples.  And  as  it  came  in  sight,  making  again  for  Caper- 
naum, the  multitude  also  would  gather  in  waiting  for  the  return  of 
Him,  Whose  words  and  deeds  were  indeed  mysteries,  l)ut  mysteries 
of  the  Kingdom.  And  quickly,  as  He  again  stepped  on  the  well- 
known  shore,  was  He  welcomed,  surrounded,  soon  'thronged,'  incon- 


JAIRUS   AND    THE   WOMAN   WHO   TOUCHED  JESUS.  GH 

veni'.'iitly  [)i'('sso(l  upon,'  l)y  the  crowd,  c'a<i-er,  furioiKs,  ex])ectant.  It  CHAP. 
seemed  as  if  they  had  been  all  'waiting  ibr  Him,'  and  He  had  been  XXVI 
away  all  too  long  Ibr  their  impatience.  The  tidings  rapidly  spread,  ^— "^r — ' 
and  reached  two  homes  where  His  help  was  needed;  where,  indeed,  it 
alone  could  noAV  be  of  possible  avail.  The  two  most  nearly  concerned 
must  have  gone  to  seek  that  help  al)out  the  same  time,  and  prompted 
by  the  same  feelings  of  expectancy.  Both  Jairus,  the  Kuler  of  the 
Synagogue,  and  the  Avoman  sulfering  these  many  years  from  disease, 
had  faith.  Jkit  the  weakness  of  the  one  arose  from  excess,  and 
threatened  to  merge  into  superstition,  while  the  weakness  of  the 
other  was  due  to  defect,  and  threatened  to  end  in  despair.  In  both 
cases  faith  had  to  be  called  out,  tried,  purified,  aud  so  perfected;  in 
both  the  thing  sought  for  was,  humanely  speaking,  unattainable,  and 
the  means  eni})loyed  seemingly  powerless;  yet,  in  both,  the  outward 
and  inward  results  required  were  obtained  through  the  power  of 
Christ,  and  by  the  pecnliar  discipline  to  which,  in  His  all-wise 
arranging,  faith  was  subjected. 

It  sounds  almost  like  a  confession  of  al)soluto  defeat,  when  nega- 
tive critics  (such  as  Keim)  have  to  ground  their  mythical  cxi)lanation 
of  this  history  on  the  supposed  synd)olical  meaning  of  what  they 
designate  as  the  fictitious  name  of  the  Ruler  of  the  Synagogue — 
Jair,  '  he  will  give  light '  ^ — and  when  they''  further  appeal  to  the  ^josuv. 
correspondence  between  the  age  of  the  maiden  and  the  years  (twelve)   p.  472 ' 
during  winch  the  woman  had  suffered  from  the  bloody  flux.     This  Leben  jesu 
coincidence  is,  indeed,  so  trivial  as  not  to  deserve  serious  notice;  "•  p- iss 
since  there  can  be  no  conceivable  connection  betAveen  the  age  of  the 
child  and  the  duration  of  the  Avouum's  disease,  nor,  indeed,  between 
the  tAvo  cases,  except  in  this,  that  both  appealed  to  Jesus.     As  re- 
gards  the   name   Jairus^  the  supposed   symbolism  is   inapt;   Avhile 
internal  reasons  are  opposed  to  the  hypothesis  of  its  fictitiousness. 
For,  it  seems  most  unlikely  that  St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke  Avould  have 
rendered  tlie  discovery  of  '  a  myth  '  easy  by^  needlessly  breaking  the 
silence  of  St.  Matthew,   and  giving  1110  name  of  so  Avell-knoAvn  a 
person    as   a    Synagogue-ruler   of  Capernaum.     And  this  the  more 
readily,  that  the  name,  though  occurring  in  the  Old  Testament,  and 
in  the  ranks  of  the  Nationalist  party  in  the  last  JcAvisli  War,"-"  Avas  <■  .m.--.  .lew- 
apparently  not  a  connuon  one."     JJut  these  are  comparatively  small   1. 8.  t-iose  ' 
difficulties  in  the  Avay  of  the  mythical  interpretation. 

1  Conip.   St.   Luke  viii.  45;    St.  ]\Iark       (Numb,  xxxii.  41;  Jiulff..  x.  :i).  does  not 
V.  ;^1.  occur  ill  Rabbinic  literature  till  after  the 

''■  Tlie  name,   a  well-known  O.T.   one      Middle  Ages. 


618  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  Jairus,  one  of  the  Synagogue-rulers'  of  Capernaum,  had  au  only 

ni  daughter,'"  who  at  the  time  of  this  narrative  had  just  passed  childhood, 
^— '-Y^^^  and  reached  the  period  when  Jewish  Law  declared  a  woman  of  age.^ 
Although  St.  Matthew,  contracting  the  whole  narrative  into  briefest 
summary,  speaks  of  her  as  dead  at  the  time  of  Jairus'  application  to 
Jesus,  the  other  two  Evangelists,  giving  fuller  details,  describe  her 
as  on  the  point  of  death,  literally,  '  at  the  last  breath  '  (///  extremis).*' 
Unless  her  disease  had  been  both  sudden  and  exceedingly  rapid, 
which  is  barely  possible,  it  is  difficult  to  understand  why  her  father 
had  not  on  the  previous  day  applied  to  Jesus,  if  his  faith  had  been 
such  as  is  generally  supposed.  But  if,  as  the  whole  tenour  of  the 
history  shows,  his  faith  had  been  only  general  and  scarcely  formed, 
we  can  account  the  more  easily  for  the  dela}^  Only  in  the  hour  of 
supreme  need,  when  his  only  child  lay  dying,  did  he  resort  to  Jesus. 
There  was  need  to  perfect  such  faith,  on  the  one  side  into  persever- 
ance of  assurance,  and  on  the  other  into  energy  of  trustfulness.  The 
one  was  accomplished  through  the  delay  caused  by  the  application 
of  the  woman,  the  other  by  the  supervention  of  death  during  this 
interval. 

There  was  nothing  unnatural  or  un-Jewish  in  the  application  of 
this  Ruler  to  Jesus.  He  must  have  known  of  the  healing  of  the  son 
of  the  Court-official,  and  of  the  servant  of  the  Centurion,  there  or  in 
the  immediate  neighbourhood — as  it  was  said,  by  the  mere  word  of 
Christ.  For  there  had  been  no  imposition  of  silence  in  regard  to 
them,  even  had  such  been  possible.  Yet  in  both  cases  the  recovery 
might  be  ascribed  by  some  to  coincidence,  by  others  to  answer  of 
prayer.  And  perhaps  this  may  lielp  us  to  understand  one  of  the 
reasons  for  the  prohibition  of  telling  what  had  been  done  by  Jesus, 
while  in  other  instances  silence  was  not  enjoined.  Of  course,  there 
were  occasions — such  as  the  raising  of  the  young  man  at  Xain  and 
of  Lazarus — when  the  miracle  was  done  so  publicly,  that  a  command 
of  this  kind  would  have  been  impossible.  But  in  other  cases  may 
this  not  be  the  line  of  demarcation,  that  silence  was  not  enjoined 
when  a  result  was  achieved  which,  according  to  the  notions  of  the 
time,  might  have  been  attributed  to  other  than  direct  Divine  Power, 

1  Kelm  starts  the  theory  that,  accord-      l)e  .<:>;atliered  from  a  comparison  of  the 
ing    to    St.    Matthew,    Jairus    was    an      tliree  Gosi)els. 

a  p;i;ol)k  in  the  sense  of  a  civil  magistrate.  ■'  A   woman  came   of  age  at   twelve 

This,  in  order  to  make  St.  Matthew  con-  years  and    one  day,   boys  at  thirteen 

tradict  St.    Mark  and  St.    Luke,    as  if  years  and  one  day. 

a  pxoov  wen>  not  one  of  the  most  com-  *  Godet  ])oints   out   a   like   summari- 

mon  designations  of  Synagogue-rulers.  sation  in   St.  Alatthew's  account  of  the 

2  The  particulars  of  her  history  must  Centurion's  servant. 


THE    MOTIVES   AND   FAITH   OF   JAIRUS.  (319 

wliilc  in  the  latter  cases  '  i)ul)licity  was  (wlicnever  possible)  forbidden?     CHAP, 
And  this  for  the  twofold  reason,  that  Christ's  Miracles  were  intended      XX\T 
to  aid,  not  to  supersede,  faith;  to  direct  to  the  Person  and  Teachin,u-  ^— — v— ^ 
of  Christ,  as  that  which  proved  the  benefit  to  be  real  and  Divine; 
not  to  excite  the  carnal  Jewish  ex[)ectancies  of  the  i)eoi)le,  l)ut  to 
lead  in  huml)le  discipleship  to  the  Feet  of  Jesus.     In  short,  if  only 
those  were  made  known  which  would  not  necessarily  imply  Divine 
Power  (according  to  Jewish  notions),  then  would  not  only  the  dis- 
traction and  tumult  of  poi)ular  excitement  be  avoided,   but  in  each 
case  faith  in  the  Person  of  Christ  be  still  required,  ere  the  miracles 
were  received  as  evidence  of  His  Divine  claims. "^     And  this  need  of 
faith  was  the  main  point. 

That,  in  view  of  his  child's  imminent  death,  and  with  the  know- 
ledg-e  he  had  of  the  '  mighty  deeds '  commonly  reported  of  Jesus, 
Jairus  should  have  applied  to  Him,  can  the  less  surprise  us,  when 
we  remember  how  often  Jesus  must,  with  consent  and  by  invitation 
of  this  Ruler,  have  spoken  in  the  Synagogue;  and  what  irresistible 
impression  IHs  words  had  made.  It  is  not  necessary  to  suppose, 
that  Jairus  was  among  those  elders  of  the  Jews  who  interceded  for 
the  Centurion;  the  form  of  his  present  application  seems  rather 
opposed  to  it.  But  after  all,  there  was  nolhing  in  what  he  said 
which  a  Jew  in  those  days  might  not  have  spoken  to  a  Rabbi,  who 
was  regarded  as  Jesus  must  have  been  by  all  in  Capernaum  who 
believed  not  the  horrible  charge,  which  the  Juda^an  Pharisees  had 
just  raised.  Though  we  cannot  point  to  any  instance  where  the 
laying  on  of  a  great  Rabbi's  hands  was  sought  for  healing,  such,  com- 
bined Avith  prayer,  would  certainly  be  in  entire  accordance  with 
Jewish  views  at  the  time.  The  confidence  in  the  result,  expressed 
by  the  father  in  the  accounts  of  St.  Mark  and  St.  Matthew,  is  not 
mentioned  by  St.  Luke.  And  j^erhaps,  as  being  the  language  of  an 
Eastern,  it  should  not  be  taken  in  its  strict  litcrality  as  indicating 
actual  conviction  on  the  part  of  Jairus,  that  the  laying  on  of  Christ's 
Hands  would  certainly  restore  the  maiden. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  when  Jesus  followed  the  Ruler  to  his 
house,  the  multitude  '  thronging  Him '  in  eager  curiosity,  another 
approached  Him  from  out  that  crowd,  whose  inner  history  was  far 

1  The  following  are  the  instances  in  -  In  general,  we  would  once  more  thus 

which  silence  was  enjoined: — St.  Matt.  iovm\\\-A,iQO\\v\'\Q\\B:  Iti  fhe  Da  !,s  of  Christ 

viii.  4  (St.  Mark  i.  44;  St.  Luke  v.  14);  men  lea  niec^first  to  believe  in  His  Perfton, 

St.   Matt.   ix.  30;    xii.  1(5;  St.  Mark   iii.  andtheninHisWord;  in  t/ieDispensafion 

12;  V.  43   (St.  Luke  viii.  56);  St.   Mark  of  the  Holy  Spirit  ice  learn  first  toheliere 

vii.  36;  viii.  26.  in  His  Word,  and  then  in  His  Person. 


620 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


«  Shabb. 
110  a  ami  b 


b  Shabb. 
114  a 

'  Derekh 
Erets  S.  x 
towards 
tlie  end 

«  Babha 
Mez.  .52  a; 
Chull.  84  6 


f  ,Ier. 

Horay.  48  a, 
4  lines  from 
bottom 


different  from  that  of  Jairus.  The  disease  from  wiiicli  this  woman 
had  suttercd  for  twelve  years  woidd  render  her  Levitically  '  unelean.' 
It  must  have  been  not  unfrequent  in  Palestine,  and  proved  as 
intractable  as  modern  science  has  found  it,  to  judge  by  the  number 
and  variety  of  remedies  prescribed,  and  by  their  character.  On  one 
leaf  of  the  Talmud  "^  not  less  than  eleven  different  remedies  are  pro- 
posed, of  which  at  most  only  six  can  possibly  be  regarded  as  astringents 
or  tonics,  while  the  rest  are  merely  the  outcome  of  superstition,  to 
which  resort  is  had  in  the  absence  of  knowledge.^  But  what  possesses 
real  interest  is,  that,  in  all  cases  where  astringents  or  tonics  are  pre- 
scribed, it  is  ordered,  that,  while  the  woman  takes  the  remedy,  she  is  to 
be  addressed  in  the  words:  ^  Arise  (Qum)  from  thy  flux.'  It  is  not 
only  that  psychical  means  are  apparently  to  accompany  the  thera- 
peutical in  this  disease,  but  the  coincidence  in  the  command.  Arise 
(Qum),  with  the  words  used  by  Christ  in  raising  Jairus'  daughter  is 
striking.  But  here  also  we  mark  only  contrast  to  the  magical  cures 
of  the  Rabbis.  For  Jesus  neither  used  remedies,  nor  spoke  the 
word  Qum  to  her  who  had  come  '  in  the  press  behind '  to  touch  for 
her  healing  '  the  fringe  of  His  outer  garment.' 

As  this  is  almost  the  only  occasion  on  which  we  can  obtain  a 
glimpse  of  Christ's  outward  appearance  and  garb,  it  may  be  well  to 
form  such  accurate  conception  of  it,  as  is  afforded  by  a  knowledge  of 
the  dress  of  the  ancient  Hebrews.  The  Rabbis  laid  it  down  as  a  rule, 
that  the  learned  ought  to  be  most  careful  in  their  dress.  It  was  a 
disgrace  if  a  scholar  walked  abroad  with  clouted  shoes;  ^  to  wear 
dirty  clothes  deserved  death;"  for  '  the  glory  of  God  was  man,  and 
the  glory  of  man  was  his  dress. ' "  This  held  specially  true  of  the 
Rabbi,  whose  appearance  might  otherwise  reflect  on  the  theological 
profession.  It  was  the  general  rule  to  eat  and  drink  below  (or  else 
according  to)  a  man's  means,  Init  to  dress  and  lodge  above  them.** ' 
For,  in  these  four  things  a  man's  character  might  be  learned:  at  his 
cups,  in  money  matters,  when  he  was  angry,  and  by  his  ragged  dress." 
Nay,  *  The  clothing  of  the  wife  of  a  Chabher  (learned  associate)  is  of 
greater  importance  than  the  life  of  the  ignorant  (rustic),  for  the  sake 
of  the  dignity  of  the  learned.  "■  Accordingly,  the  Rabbis  were  wont 
to  wear   such   dress  by  which  they  might  be  distinguished.     At  a 


^  Such  as  the  ashes  of  an  0.strich-E,irir. 
carried  in  summer  in  a  linen,  in  winter 
in  a  cotton  rag;  or  a  barley-corn  found 
in  the  dung  of  a  white  she-ass,  &c. 

-  In  Ber.  4?>  b,  it  is  explained  to  refer 
to  such  shoes  as  had  '  clouts  on  tlie  top 


of  clouts.' 

"  Accordingly,  when  a  person  applied 
for  I'elief  in  food,  inquiry  was  to  be  mad(> 
as  to  his  means,  but  not  if  he  applied  for 
raiment  (Babha  B  9  a). 


THE    DRESS    WHICH    CIHHST   WOKE.  (J21 

later  i)efio(l  they  scciu  at  tlicir  ordination  to  have  been  occasionally     chap. 
arrayed  in  a  mantle  of  gold-stuff.'     Perhaps  a  distinctive  garment,       xxvi 

most  likt'ly  a  head-gear,  was  worn,  even  by  'rulers'  ('the  elder,'  pr),  ^^^.' — ' 

at  their  ordination.'      The    Palestinian  Nasi,   or  President  ol"  the  "Babha 

'  Mez.  85  a 

Sanhedrin,  also  had  a  distinctive  dress,"  and  the  head  of  the  Jewish   I'Ber. 28a 
connnunity  in  Babylon  a  distinctive  girdle.'^  ■  Horay. 

In  referring  to  the  dress  which  may  on  a  Sabbath  be  saved  from 
a  burning  house — not,  indeed,  by  carrying  it,  but  by  successively 
initting  it  on,  no  fewer  than  eighteen  articles  ai-e  mentioned.''    If  the   'Shabb. 

120  (I :  Jer. 

meaning  of  all  the  terms  could  be  accurately  ascertained,  we  should  siiabb.  lo'rf 
know  precisely  Avhat  the  Jews  in  the  second  centur}',  and  presumably 
earlier,  wore,  from  the  shoes  and  stockings  on  their  feet  to  the  gloves^ 
on  their  hands.  Unfortunately,  many  of  these  designations  are  in 
dispute.  Nor  must  it  be  thought  that,  becanse  there  are  eighteen 
names,  the  dress  of  an  Israelite  consisted  of  so  many  separate  pieces. 
Several  of  them  apply  to  different  shajjcs  or  kinds  of  the  same  under 
or  upper  garments,  while  the  list  indicates  tlieir  extreme  number  and 
variety  rather  than  the  ordinary  dress  worn.  The  latter  consisted, 
to  judge  by  the  directions  given  for  undi'essing  and  dressing  in  the 
bathroom,  of  six,  or  perhaps  more  generally,  of  five  articles:  the 
shoes,  the  head-covering,  the  Tall  it  h  or  upper  cloak,  the  girdle,  the 
Chali'q  or  under-dress,  and  the  AitJiqai^sin  or  innermost  covering."  '^neiekh 

Erets  R.  x. 

As  regarded  shoes,  a  man  should  sell  his  very  i^oof-tree  for  them,*  al-  p- :«<<  "" 

though  he  might  have  to  part  with  them  for  food,  if  he  were  in  a 

weak  condition  through  blood-letting. "^     But  it  was  7?o^  the  practice   'shabb. 

,        "  .  '  .  129  a : 

to  provide  more  than  one  ])air  of  sliocs,"  and  to  this  may  have  re-  com  p.  Pes. 

.  *  112  (( 

ferred  the  injunction''  of  Christ  to  the  Apostles  not  to  provide  shoes  ..jp^ 

for  their  journey,  or  else  to  the  well-known  distinction  between  shoes  ^^^^^-  "^'-  '^ 

(Manalim)  and  sandals  {Sandalini).     The  former,  which  were  some-  x.'io' 

times  made  of  very  coarse  material,  (^overed  the  Avhole  foot,  and  were 

specially  intended   for  winter  or  I'ainy  weathei-:   while  the  sandals, 

which  only  i)rotc'ct('d  the  soles  and  sides  of  tiie  feet,  were  specially 

for  snnnner  use.'  ib.  Batm-a 

"iS  ((.  lines  2 

'  But  I  admit  tliat  tlio  iiassa-tMN'ayyik.  cially  to  />'/■«//,  Trachteii  d.  .ludcn.     Tlic    foj','  ''  ^'''"" 

T\.  2)  is  iidt  (luito'clcar.   Thv  Mitti/Jtm-f^f/t  Article  in  TTanilnn-ijcr's  Heal-Eiu'yi<l.  is 

tiuM'c  iiR'ntioiu'il  may  not  liave  l)oe'n  an  little  mori^  tlian  a  ivix'tition  of  lirull's. 

ofticial    dress,  hut   one   whicli   tii(>   man  From  otlici'  wi-itci-s  I  iuivc  not  lieon  aliic 

otluM'wise  usod.  and  whii-li  was  only  .sin'-  to  dci-ixc  any  lu'l)). 

cially  endearod  to  liim  hytlic  rocol lection  '  So  l.iniihin  renders  one  of  the  words 

tliat  he  had  worn  it  at  his  ordination.  in  Shabh.  120   a.     1   need   scarcely  say 

-'  In  ,i;eneral.   I  would  here  acknowl-  that  the  rendering  is  very  douhtful. 

edffe  my  indebtedness  on  the  very  ditti-  *  Rrv.lJ   regards   this  as  controversial 

cult  subject  of  dress  to  Snclis.  Beitriliie  to  the  practices  of  the  early  Christians. 

7..  Spracii-  u.  Alterth.-Forsch. ;  to  the  Ar-  But  he  coid'onnds  sects  with  the  Church. 

tides  in  Lery's  Dictionaries;  and  esi)e- 


622 


FROM    .lol.'DAX    TO    TIIK    .MOl'NT    OF   TRANSFIGrUATroN. 


I'.OOK 

m 


«  Exod. 
xiv.  8 


'•  Kel. 
xxix.  1 


'■  Pes.  Ill  h. 
See  also  t  lie 
somewliat 
profane 
etymology 

Shabl).  77/), 


'■  Jer.  Sanh. 
20  c,  bottom 

" Babha  B. 
57  /. 


f  Moed  K. 
14  a 

est.  Matt. 
X.  10,  aiul 
parallels 


''  St.  John 
xlx.  23 


'  Comp. 
Rev.  1.  l:; 


In  re<i,'ar(l  to  I  lie  (■()\('riii_u'  ol'  tiic  licad,  it  was  (Iccincd  a  mark  of 
disrespect  to  walk  abroad,  or  to  pass  a  person,  witti  bared  liead.' 
Slaves  covered  their  heads  in  presence  of  their  masters,  and  the 
Targum  Oiikdos  indicates  Isi'aeFs  freedom  by  para[)hrasin<>-  the  ex- 
pression thev  -went  out  with  a  higii  hand"'  hy  'with  uncovered 
liead.' '  'I'lic  ordinai-y  covering  of  the  head  was  the  so-called  Sudar 
(or  Sudariiim ).  a  kerchief  twistetl  into  a  turban,  and  which  might 
also  be  worn  round  the  neck.  A  kind  of  hat  was  also  in  use,  either 
of  light  material  or  of  felt  {Aphilyon  shel  rosh,  or  Philijon).^'  The 
Sudar  was  twisted  by  Rabbis  in  a  peculiar  manner  to  distinguish 
them  from  others.'  We  read  besides  of  a  sort  of  ca])  or  liood  attached 
to  some  kinds  of  outer  or  of  inner  garments. 

Three,  oi-  else  four  articles  commonly  constituted  the  dress  of  the 
body.  First  came  tlie  under-garment,  commonly  the  Ghaluq  or  the 
Kitfuna'^  (the  JJiblical  KetJioneth),  from  which  latter  some  have  de- 
rived the  word  -cotton."  The  Chaluq  might  be  of  linen  or  of  wool." 
The  sages  Avore  it  down  to  the  feet.  It  was  covered  by  the  upper 
garment  or  Tallifh  to  within  about  a  handbreadth.'  The  (lialnq  lay 
close  to  the  body,  and  had  no  other  ojxMiing  than  that  round  the 
neck  and  for  the  arms.  At  the  bottom  it  had  a  kind  of  hem.  To 
possess  only  one  such  'coat"  or  inner  garment  was  a  mark  of  |)ov- 
erty.'  Hence,  Avhen  the  A])ostles  were  sent  on  their  temporary  mis- 
sion, they  were  directed  not  to  take  -two  coats.'-  Closely  similar  to, 
if  not  identical  Avitli,  the  Chxduq,  was  the  ancient  garment  mentioned 
in  the  Old  Testament  as  Keflioiieth,  to  which  the  Greek  'Chiton' 
(XiTGor)  corresponds.  As  the  garment  which  oui-  Lord  wore,"'*  and 
those  of  Avhich  He  s})oke  to  His  Apostles  are  designated  by  that  name, 
we  conclude  that  it  represents  the  well-known  Kethoneth  or  Rabbinic 
Kittuna.  This  might  be  of  almost  any  material,  even  leather, 
though  it  was  generally  of  wool  or  flax.  It  was  sleeved,  close-fitting, 
reached  to  the  ankles,  and  Avas  fastened  round  the  loins,  or  just  under 
the  breast.'  by  a  girdle.  One  kind  of  the  latter,  the  Pundah  or 
AphundaJ).-'  was  ])rovided  with   ])ockets   or  other  i-eceptacles,''  and 


'  On  tile  oilier  liaiid.  t(i  walk  about 
witli  shof'.s  lot ).<('!  1  wa.-J  I'ficardi'il  as  a 
mark  of  ])ri(1»'. 

-  Tlic  lil<e  (Expression  occiii's  in  tlio 
Tari2;uin  on  .Tudi;-.  v.  !). 

•■'  Also.  Kitf(iiiitli((.  and  Kittn iiitlia. 

'  As  to  Ihe  mode  of  weaviiii;  such 
<;fannents,  see  the  pictorial  illustration 
in  Braunius,  Vest.  Sacerd.  TIel)ra^or.. 
which  is  reproduced,  with  full  details 
from  various  other  \voi')<s.  in  Unrtiixiini'.-i 


lleln'.  am  I'ut/.t.  vol.  i..  explanatory 
notes  beinii'  added  at  the  l)e;;iiniinii-  of 
vol.  iii.  SmtDiifn-'s  note  in  his  edition 
of  B.  Mezia,  p.  151  a,  is  oidy  a  re|)ro- 
duotion  of  llurtmniin's  remarks. 

■'  It  was  worn  outside  (.Ter.  Ber.  14  r, 
top).  Tliis  is  the  girdle  wliicli  was  not  to 
be  worn  in  the  Temple,  i)robably  as  being 
that  of  a  i)erson  engaged  in  business. 

''  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  Ariich 
led.  L<(ii(l(ni.  i.  j).  137  Aj. 


THE    UPPER   GAKiMENT    WITH    'llli;    ,<(MAIJJ:I)    •  KKIN(;ES.'  ^23 

lieiicc  miglit  not  be  worn  ontsidi;  by  those  who  went  into  the  Tenii)le,''     CHAP. 
l)robiibl_v  to  indicate  that  he   wiio   went  to  worsliip  should    not   be      XXVI 

engaged  in,  nor  bear  mark  ol",  any  other  oecupation.  ^ — -, ' 

01"  the  two  other  garments  mentioned  as  parts  of  a  man's  toilette.  '  Jer.  Ber. 

®  ^  Ur,  top 

the  Aphqarsin  or  Aj^hikars us  seems  to  have  been  an  article  of  luxury 
rather  than  of  necessity.  Its  precise  purpose  is  difheult  to  deter- 
mine. A  eonn)arison  of  the  passages  in  which  the  term  occui-s  con- 
veys the  impression,  that  it  was  a  large  kerchief  used  partly  as  a 
head-gear,  and  which  hung  down  and  was  fastened  under  the  right 

arm.''^     Probably  it  was  also  used  for  tlie  u]»])er  i)ai't  of  the  body.  iKei.  xxix. 

But  the  circumstance  that,  uidike  the  other  articles  of  (b'ess,  it  need  23^:24/*, m 

not  ])e  rent  m  mourning,''  and  that,  when  worn  ))y  females,  it  was  oikwchief 

11  1         i"'  ii.1     ,1     1  i-i     i.   -i  '        ^  worn  in  an 

regarded  as  a   mark  01  wealth, '  shows  that  it  was  not  a   necessary  atccssibie 

article  of  dress,  and  hence  that,  in  all  likeliliood,  it  was  not  win-n  by  pesiqt.  i56, 

Christ.      It  was  otherwise  with  the  upper  (jannent.      Various  sha})es  cioHetotiie 

1    ,  •      1  ,.  ,  ■  ,.  .,      '  7,  •  17)  body  and 

and   kinds  ot  such  were  m   use,  trom  the  coarser  J>oresni  ami  Bar-  yetcou- 

deslit — the  modern  Burnoose — upwards.     The  Geliiun  was  a  cloak  dust;  jer. 

of  which  '  the  border,'  or  '  hem,'  is  specially  mentioned  (n^*'-';,  ^?ir*r).''  uneufi-oni 

The  Gunda  was  a  peculiarly  Pharisaic  garb.'     But  the  upper  garment  usecfft)i- 

which  Jesus  wore  would  be  either  the  so-called  Goltha,  or,  most  likely,  me'Spp"? 

the  2\dlith.     Both  the  Goltha^  and  tlie  Tallith^'  were  provided,  on  body" 

the  four  borders,  with  the  so-called  TsltsltJt,  or  '  fringes.'     These  were  '^^^^^^°^'-^- 

attached  to  the  four  corners  of  the  outer  dress,  in  supi)0sed  fulfilment  JNidd.  is?/ 

of  the  command.  Xuiid).  xv.  38-41;  Dent.  xxii.  12.      At  first,  this  ob-  :^!"f'^-   , 

'  102  //,  find 

servauce  seeins  to  ha\e  been  comparatively  simi)le.     The  question  as  °"'"" 
to  the  number  of  filaments  on  these  'fringes  '  was  settled  in  accord-     .'"  ', 

'^  e  Jer,  Sanli. 

ance  with,  the  teaching  of  the  School  of  Shammai.     Four  filaihents  '^'' 

(not  three,  as  the  Ilillelites  proposed),  each  of  four  fin^-er-lengths  37// 
(these,  as  later  tradition  put  it,  doubled),  and  attached  to  the  four 
corners  of  what  must  be  a  strictly  square  garment — such  were  the 

earliest  rules  on  the  subject.'     The  Mishnah   leaves  it  still  a  com-  isii.hn.ed. 

paratively  oi)en  question,   whether    these   filaments  were  to  be  blue  p.'ii7"'r( 

or  white.'*     But  the  Targuin  makes  a  strong  point  of  it  as  between  k  Monach. 
Moses  and  Korah,  that  there  was  to  be  a  filament  of  hyacinth  colour 

among  four  of  white."'     It  seems  even  to  imi)ly  the  jieculiar  sym-  ...  xarg. 

bolical  mode  of'knotting  them  at  present  in  use."     Further  symbolic  on  Numb. 


XVI. ; 

»  u.  s.  on 


details  were,  of  course,   added  in  the  course   of  time.-     As   these 

fringes  were  attached  to  the  corners  of  any  square  garment,  the  Nujub.  xv. 

'  This  passage  is  botli  curious  and  ditfi-  -'  Tlie  number  of  l<nots  and  tlireads  at 

cult.     It  seems  to  imi)ly  that  the  Ap//-  present  counted  are.  of  course,  later  addi- 

qar.shi  was  a  garment  worn  in  summer.  tions.     The  little  tractate  Tsitnitli  Kinli- 

close  to  the  l)ody,  and  having  sleeves.  heiiii.  Septein  Libri  Talm.  P.  p)).  22-24j 


624 


FROM    JORDAN   To   TllK    MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"Tos. 
MoglU.  Iv. 
]).  t5&,  lines 
17  and  16 
from 
bi'ttom 
'■  St.  John 
xis.  23 


•  St.  Matt, 
svili.  5 


question,  wlictlicr  the  upper  garment  whicli  Jesus  wore  was  the 
Goltha  or  the  TaUith,  is  of  secondary  importance.  But  as  all  that 
concerns  His  Sacred  Person  is  of  deepest  interest,  we  may  he  allowed 
to  state  our  belief  in  favour  of  the  TaUith.  Both  arc  UK-utioncd  as 
distinctive  dresses  of  teachers,  but  the  Goltlia  (so  far  as  it  differed 
from  the  TaUith)  seems  the  more  peculiarly  J\al)binic. 

We  can  now  form  an  approximate  idea  of  the  outward  appearance 
of  Jesus  on  that  spring-morning  amidst  the  throng  at  Capernaum, 
lie  would,  we  may  safely  assume,  go  about  in  the  ordinary,  although 
not  in  tlie  more  ostentatious,  dress,  worn  by  the  Jewish  teachers  of 
Galilee.  His  head-gear  would  probably  be  the  Sudar  (Sudarium) 
wound  into  a  kind  of  turban,  or  perhaps  the  Maaphoreth,^  which 
seems  to  have  served  as  a  covering  for  the  head,  and  to  luive  de- 
scended over  the  back  of  the  neck  and  shoulders,  somewhat  like  the 
Indian  pugaree.  His  feet  were  probably  shod  Avith  sandals.  The 
Chahiq,  or  more  probably  the  Kittuna,  which  formed  his  inner 
garment,  must  have  been  close-fitting,  and  descended  to  His  feet, 
since  it  was  not  only  so  worn  by  teachers,  but  was  regarded  as  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  any  one  who  would  publicly  read  or  *  Targum ' 
the  Scriptures,  or  exercise  any  function  in  the  Synagogue.-'  As  we 
know^,  it  'was  without  seam,  woven  from  the  top  throughout;""  and 
this  closely  accords  with  the  texture  of  these  garments.  Round  the 
middle  it  would  be  fastened  with  a  girdle.'^  Over  this  inner,  He 
would  most  probably  wear  the  square  outer  garment,  or  TaUith, 
with  the  customary  fringes  of  four  long  white  threads  with  one  of 
hyacinth  knotted  together  on  each  of  the  four  corners.  There  is 
reason  to  believe,  that  three  square  garments  were  made  with  these 
'fringes,'  although,  by  way  of  ostentation,  the  Pharisees  made  them 
l)articularly  wide  so  as  to  attract  attention,  just  as  they  made  their  phy- 
lacteries broad."  Although  Christ  only  denounced  the  latter  practice, 
not  the  phylacteries  themselves,  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that  Him- 
self ever  wore  them,  either  on  the  forehead  or  the  arm.^  There  was 
certainly  no  warrant  for  them  in  Holy  Scripture,  and  oidy  Pharisee 
externalism    could    represent    their    use    as    fulfilling   the  import  of 


is  merely  a  sumniary.  The  various  au- 
thorities on  the  .subject, — and  not  a  few 
have  been  consulted- -are  more  or  less 
wanting  in  clearness  and  defective. 
Com]),  p.  277.  note  2.  of  this  volume. 

'  The  dirtercnce  between  it  ami  the 
-ly^/K/^^/-.s'/// seems  to  ])e.  that  the  latter 
was  worn  and  fastened  inside  the  dress. 
The  Mdiiphorcfh  would  in  some  measure 
combine  tin?  uses  (jf  the  SikJiu-  and  the 


Aphqarsin. 

-  Canon  Wefttcntt  (Speaker's  Comment. 
on  St.  John  xix.  23)  seems  to  imply  that 
the  girdle  was  worn  outside  tiie  loose 
outer  garment.     This  was  not  the  case. 

^  On  tills  subject  I  must  take  leave 
to  refer  to  tlie  Biljl.  Cyclopiedias  and  to 
'Sketches  of  Jewish  Social  Life,'  pp. 
220-224. 


THE   (JAKMENT    FOR   WHICH    THEY   CAST    LOTS. 


625 


Exod.  xiii.  9,  10;  Dcut.  vi.  8;  xi.  18.  The  ndiuissioii  tlint  neither 
the  offleiatiiig-  priestgi,  nor  the  representatives  of  the  people,  wore 
them  in  the  Temple,''  seems  to  imply  that  this  practice  was  not  quite 
universal.  For  our  part,  we  refuse  to  believe  that  Jesus,  like  the 
Pharisees,  appeared  wearing  phylacteries  every  day  and  all  day  long, 
or  at  least  a  great  part  of  the  day.  For  such  was  the  ancient  custom, 
and  not  merely,  as  the  modern  practice,  to  wear  them  only  at 
prayer. ' 

One  further  remark  may  be  allowed  before  dismissing  this  subject. 
Our  inquries  enable  us  in  this  matter  also  to  confirm  the  accuracy 
of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  We  read  ''  that  the  quaternion  of  soldiers  who 
crucified  Christ  made  division  of  the  riches  of  His  poverty,  taking 
each  one  part  of  His  dress,  while  for  the  fifth,  which,  if  divided, 
would  have  had  to  lie  rent  in  pieces,  they  cast  lots.  This  incidental 
remark  carries  evidence  of  the  Judajan  authorship  of  the  Gospel  in 
the  accurate  knowledge  which  it  displays.  The  four  pieces  of  dress 
to  be  divided  would  be  the  head-gear,  the  more  expensive  sandals  or 
shoes,  the  long  girdle,  and  the  coarse  Tallith — all  about  equal  in 
value. -^  And  the  fifth  undivided  and,  comparatively,  most  expensive 
garment.  '  without  seam,  Avoven  from  the  top  throughout, '  probably 
of  wool,  as  l)efitted  the  season  of  the  year,  was  the  Kittuna,  or  inner 
garment.  How  strange,  that,  what  would  have  been  of  such  price- 
less value  to  Christendom,   should   have    been  divided  as  the  poor 


I'  St.  John 
xix.  23 


'  As  the  ciiiestion  is  of  considerable 
practical  imiwrtauce,  the  follo\viii,e;,  as 
l)eariiif!:  upon  it.  may  be  noticed.  From 
Jer.  Ber.  4  c,  we  gather:  1.  That  at  one 
time  it  was  the  practice  to  wear  the 
phylacteries  all  day  loiiii',  in  order  to  pass 
as  pious.  This  is  denounced  as  a  mark 
Of  hypocrisy.  2.  That  it  was  settled,  that 
phylacteries  should  be  worn  during  a 
considerable  part  of  the  day,  but  not  tlie 
whole  day.  [In  Ber.  23  a  to  2i  a  wo  have 
rules  and  discussions  about  depositing 
them  under  certain  circumstances,  and 
where  to  place  them  at  night.]  3.  That 
it  was  deenu''d  objectionable  to  wear 
them  only  during  prayer.  4.  That  cele- 
Ijrated  Rabbis  did  not  deem  it  necessary 
.always  to  wear  the  phylacteries  both  on 
the  head  and  on  the  arm.  Tiiis  seems  to 
l)rove  that  their  obligation  could  not 
iuive  been  regarded  as  al)solately  bind- 
ing. Thus,  R.  Joclianan  wore  those  for 
the  head  only  in  winter,  but  nt>t  in  sum- 
mer, l)ecause   then  he  did  not  wear  a 


headgear.  As  another  illustration,  that 
the  wearing  of  phylacteries  was  not 
deemed  absolutely  requisite,  the  follow- 
ing passage  may  be  quoted  (Sanh.  xi.  3): 
'  It  is  nu)re  culpable  to  transgress  the 
words  of  the  Scribes  tlian  those  of  the 
Torah.  He  that  says.  There  are  no 
phylacteries,  transgresses  the  word  of 
the  Torah.  and  is  not  to  be  regarded  as 
a  rebel  (literally,  is  free);  but  he  who 
says.  There  are  five  compartments  (in- 
stead of  four),  to  add  to  the  words  of 
the  Scribes,  he  is  guilty. 

-'  I  hnd  that  the  lowest  price  mentioned 
for  an  upiier  garment  was  7i  dhuirs,  or 
about  4.V.  "td.  (.ler.  Kilay.  i.\.  \).  The  more 
common  i)rice.  however,  seems  to  have 
been  12  dinars,  or  about  7.9.  M.  The 
cost  of  making  seems  to  have  been  8 
dinars,  or  about  5.s'.  (Jer.  Babha  Mets.  vi. 
I),  leaving  4  dinars,  or  2.s-.  Qd.,  for  the 
nuiterial.  Of  course,  the  latter  might  be 
much  nu)re  expensive,  and  the  cost  of 
the  garment  increased  accordingly. 


626  I'l^"^'     lolfl'AN    TO    THE    MOUNT    OF   TRAXSFIGl'KATlON. 

BOOK      booty  of  a  rough,   unappreeiativc   soldiery!     Yet  how  well  for  us, 

HI        since   not   even   the   sternest  warning  could  have  kept  within  the 

"^— -v^^   bounds  of  mere  reverence  the  veneration  with  which  we  should  liave 

viewed  and  handled  that  which  He  wore,  Who  died  for  us  on  the  Cross. 

Can  we,  then,  wonder  that  this  Jewish  woman,  '  having  heard  the 
things  concerning  Jesus,'  with  her  imperfect  knowledge,  in  the  weak- 
ness of  her  strong  faith,  thought  that,  if  slie  might  but  touch  His 
garment,  she  would  l)e  made  whole/  It  is  but  what  we  ourselves  might 
think,  if  He  were  still  walking  on  earth  among  men:  it  is  but  what,  in 
some  form  or  otlier,  we  still  feel  when  in  the  weakness — the  rebound 
or  diastole — of  our  faith  it  seems  to  us,  as  if  the  want  of  this  touch 
in  not  outwardly-perceived  help  or  Presence  left  us  miserable  and 
sick,  while  even  one  real  touch,  if  it  were  only  of  His  garment,  one 
real  act  of  contact,  however  mediate,  would  bring  us  perfect  healing. 
And  in  some  sense  it  really  is  so.  For,  assuredly,  the  Lord  cannot 
be  touched  by  disease  and  misery,  without  healing  coming  from  Him, 
for  He  is  the  God-Man.  And  He  is  also  the  loving,  pitying  Saviour. 
Who  disdains  not,  nor  turns  from  our  weakness  in  the  manifestation 
of  our  faith,  even  as  He  turned  not  from  hers  who  touched  IHs 
garment  for  her  healing. 

We  can  picture  her  to  our  minds  as,  mingling  with  those  wiio 
thronged  and  pressed  upon  the  Lord,  she  put  forth  her  hand  and 
'  touched  the  border  of  His  garment,'  most  probably  ^  tlie  long  Tsitsifh 
of  one  of  the  corners  of  the  Tallith.  We  can  understand  how,  with 
a  disease  which  not  only  rendered  her  Levitically  defiling,  but  Avhere 
womanly  shamefacedness  would  make  public  speech  so  difficult,  she, 
thinking  of  Him  Whose  Word,  spoken  at  a  distance,  had  brought 
healing,  might  thus  seek  to  have  her  heart's  desire.  What  strong 
faith  to  expect  help  where  all  human  help,  so  long  and  earnestly 
sought,  had  so  signally  failed!  And  what  strong  faith  to  expect,  that 
even  contact  with  Him,  the  bare  touch  of  His  garment,  would  carry 
such  Divine  Power  as  to  make  her  '  whole.'  Yet  in  this  very  strength 
lay  also  its  weakness.  She  believed  so  much  in  Him,  that  she  felt  as 
if  it  needed  not  personal  appeal  to  Him;  she  felt  so  deeply  the 
hindrances  to  her  making  request  of  Himself,  that,  believing  so 
strongly  in  Him,  she  deemed  it  sufficient  to  touch,  not  even  Himself, 
but  tha.t  which  in  itself  had  no  power  nor  value,  except  as  it  was  in 
contact  with  His  Divine  Person.     Rut  it  is  here  tliat  her  faith  was 

1  This,  liowever,  does  not  necessarily  meaning.  Comp.  the  excellent  work  of 
follow,  iilthoiisli  in  New  Testament  Ian-  Brmnu'iis  (Vest.  Sac.  Ilel).  i)p.  72,  73 — 
.iruaire  KfjccaTtrSov  seems  to  bear  that       nof  j).  5.5,  as  Schli'usner  note.s). 


PERSONAL   AND    DIUECT   TOmT   OF   rillilST.  f52Y 

beset  by  t^vo-lohl  daDiici-.      lii  its  excess  it  iiii.iilit  (leii^enerate  into     chap. 
superstition,  as  trees  in  their  vi.iiour  put  I'ortli  shoots,  wliich,  unless      XXVI 
tliey  be  cut  oU*,  will  prevent  the  IVuit-beai'in^-,  and  even  exhaust  the    ^-^(^^ 
life  of  the  tree.     Not  the  garments  in  which  He  appeared  among 
men,  and  which  touched  His  Sacred  Body,  nor  even  that  Body,  but 
Himself  brings   healing.     Again,  there   was  tin;  danger  of  losing- 
sight  of  that  which,  as  the   moral   element,   is  necessary  in  faith: 
personal  application  to,  and  personal  contact  with,  Christ. 

And  so  it  is  to  us  also.  As  we  realise  the  Mystery  of  the  Incar- 
nation, His  love  towards,  and  His  Presence  with,  His  own,  and  the 
Divine  Power  of  the  Christ,  we  cannot  think  too  highly  of  all  that 
is,  or  brings,  in  contact  with  Him.  The  Church,  the  Sacraments, 
the  Apostolic  Ministry  of  His  Institution — in  a  word,  the  grand 
historic  Church,  which  is  alike  His  Dwelling-place,  His  Witness,  and 
His  Representative  on  earth,  ever  since  He  instituted  it,  endowed  it 
with  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  hallowed  it  by  the  fulfilled 
promise  of  His  Eternal  Presence,  is  to  us  what  the  garment  He  wore 
was  to  her  who  touched  Him.  We  shall  think  highly  of  all  this  in 
measure  as  we  consciously  think  highly  of  Him.  His  JJridc  the 
Church;  the  Sacraments  which  are  the  fellowship  of  His  Body  and 
Blood,  of  His  Crucifixion  and  Resurrection;  the  Ministry  and  Embassy 
of  Him,  committed  to  the  Apostles,  and  ever  since  continued  with 
such  direction  and  promise,  cannot  be  of  secondary  importance — 
must  be  very  real  and  full  of  power,  since  they  are  so  connected, 
and  bring  us  into  such  connection  with  Him:  the  spirituo-physical 
points  of  contact  between  Him,  Who  is  the  God-man,  and  those  who, 
being  men,  are  also  the  children  of  God.  Yet  in  this  strength  of  our 
faith  may  also  lie  its  danger  if  not  its  weakness.  Through  excess 
it  may  pass  into  superstition,  which  is  the  attachment  of  power 
to  anything  other  than  the  Living  God;  or  else,  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  our  great  disease,  want  of  courage  might  deprive  faith 
of  its  moral  element  in  personal  dealing  and  personal  contact  with 
Christ. 

Very  significantly  to  us  who,  in  our  foolish  judging  and  merciless 
condemning  of  one  another,  ever  re-enacted  the  Parable  of  the  Two 
Debtors,  the  Lord  did  not,  as  Pseudo-orthodoxy  would  prescribe  it, 
disappoint  her  taith  for  the  weakness  of  its  manifestation.  To 
have  disappointed  her  ftiith,  which  was  born  of  such  high  thoughts 
of  Him,  woidd  have  been  to  deny  Himself — aiul  he  cannot  deny 
Himself.  But  very  significantly,  also,  while  He  disappointed  not 
her  faith.  He  corrected  the  error  of  its  direction  and  manif(>station. 


(i28 


FliO.M   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Luke 
yiii.  47 


And  to  this  His  sul)soqucnt  ])earin(if  toward  her  was  directed.  No 
sooner  had  slie  so  touched  the  border  of  His  garment  than  '  she 
knew  in  the  body  lliat  she  was  healed  of  the  scourge.' '  No  sooner, 
also,  had  she  so  touched  the  border  of  His  garment  than  He  knew, 
'perct'ived  in  Himself,'  what  had  taken  place:  the  forthgoing  of  the 
Power  that  is  from  out  of  Him.-' 

Taking  this  narrative  in  its  true  literality,  there  is  no  reason  to 
overweight  and  mar  it  by  adding  what  is  not  conveyed  in  the  text. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  language  of  St.  Mark^'  (as  correctly  I'endered), 
nor  of  St.  Luke,  to  oblige  us  to  conclude  that  this  forthgoing  of 
Power,  which  He  perceived  in  Himself,  had  been  through  an  act,  of 
the  full  meaning  of  which  Christ  was  unconscious — in  other  words, 
that  He  was  ignorant  of  the  person  who,  and  the  reason  why,  she 
Had  touched  Him.  In  short,  •  the  forthgoing  of  the  Power  that  is 
out  of  Him'  was  neither  unconscious  nor  unwilled  on  His  part.  It 
was  caused  by  her  faith,  not  by  her  touch.  '  Thy  faith  hath  made 
thee  whole.'  And  the  question  of  Jesus  could  not  have  been  mis- 
leading, when  '  straightway '  *  He  '  turned  Him  about  in  the  crowd 
and  said,  Who  touched  My  garments?'  That  He  knew  who  had 
done  it,  and  only  wished,  through  self-confession,  to  bring  her  to 
clearness  in  the  exercise  of  her  faitli,  apjjcars  n-om  what  is  imme- 
diately added:  'And  JHe  looked  round  about,'  not  to  see  who  had 
done  it,  but  'to  see  her  that  had  done  this  thing.'  And  as  His  look 
of  unsi)oken  appeal  was  at  last  fixed  on  her  alone  in  all  that  crowd, 
which,  as  Peter  rightly  said,  was  thronging  and  pressing  Him,  -the 
woman  saw  that  she  was  not  hid,' ''  and  came  forward  to  make  full 
confession.  Thus,  while  in  His  mercy  He  had  borne  with  her  weak- 
ness, and  in  His  faithfulness  not  disappointed  her  faith,  its  twofold 
errror  was  also  corrected.  She  learned  that  it  was  not  from  the 
garment,  but  from  the  Saviour,  that  the  Power  proceeded;  she 
learned  also,  that  it  was  not  the  touch  of  it,  but  the  faith  in  Him, 
that  made  whole — and  such  faith  must  ever  l)e  of  personal  dealing 
with  Him.      And  so  He  spoke  to  her  the  Word  of  twofold  help  and 


.  '  So  literally  in  St.  Mark's  Go-spel. 

-  Tliks  <i,-ivc.s  the  full  meaning — l)ut  it 
is  difficult  to  irive  a  literal  translation 
wliich  would  give  the  entire  nieaninii-  of 
the  original. 

•''  The  Revised  Version  renders  it :  '  And 
straightway  Jesus,  perceiving  in  Himself 
tiiat  the  ])()\yi-v procf^.f'/ii/'j  fvoiw  Him  iiail 
gone  forth,  turned  Him  aljout.'  Mark 
the  position  of  the  first  comma.  In  the 
Speaker's  Conniientary  it  is   rendered: 


'  And  immediately  Jesus,  having  per- 
ceived in  Himself  that  the  virtue  had 
gone  forth  from  Him.'  Dean  Phnnp- 
fre  translates:  -Knowing  fully  in  Him- 
self the  virtue  that  liad  gone  out  from 
Him.- 

'  The  arrangement  of  tlie  words  in 
the  A.V.  is  entirely  mislcadiiiii'.  The 
word  -immediately'  refers  to  His  turn- 
ing round,  not  to  His  perceiving  in 
Himself. 


TIDINGS   OF   THE    DEATH   OF    'THE   MAIDEN.' 


629 


ussiiiraiu'c:   'Thy  laitli  liatli  made  tlicc  whole — go  Ibrtli   into  peace,' 
and  be  healed  of  thy  seoiu'iie.' 

Brief  as  is  the  reeord  of  this  occurrence,  it  nuist  have  caused 
cousiderablc  delay  in  the  progress  of  our  Lord  to  the  house  of  Jairus. 
For  in  the  interval  the  maiden,  who  had  been  at  the  last  gasp  when 
her  father  went  to  entreat  the  help  of  Jesus,  had  not  only  died,  but 
the  house  of  mourning  was  already  filled  with  relatives,  hired 
mourners,  wailing  Avomen,  and  musicians,  in  preparation  for  the 
funeral.  The  intentional  delay  of  Jesus  wiien  summoned  to  Lazarus  •' 
leads  us  to  ask,  whether  similar  purpose  may  not  have  influenced  His 
conduct  in  the  present  instance.  But  even  were  it  otherwise,  no 
outcome  of  God's  Providence  is  of  chance,  but  each  is  designed. 
The  circumstances,  which  in  their  concurrence  make  u\)  an  event, 
may  all  be  of  natural  occurrence,  but  their  conjunction  is  of  Divine 
ordering  and  to  a  higher  purpose,  and  this  constitutes  Divine  Provi- 
dence. It  was  in  the  interval  of  this  delay  that  the  messengers  came, 
who  informed  Jairus  of  the  actual  death  of  his  child.  Jesus  over- 
lieardMt,  as  they  whispered  to  the  Ruler  not  to  trouble  the  Kabbi 
any  further,''  but  He  heeded  it  not,  save  so  far  as  it  affected  the  father. 
The  emphatic  admonition,  not  to  fear,  only  to  believe,  gives  us  an 
insiglit  into  the  threatening  failure  of  the  Ruler's  faith;  perhaps, 
also,  into  the  motive  which  prompted  the  delay  of  Christ.  The  ut- 
most need,  which  would  henceforth  require  the  utmost  faith  on  the 
part  of  Jairus  had  now  come.  But  into  that,  which  was  to  pass 
within  the  house,  no  stranger  must  intrude.  Even  of  the  Apostles 
only  those,  who  now  for  the  first  time  became,  and  henceforth  con- 
tinued, the  innermost  circle,*  might  witness,  without  present  danger 
to  themselves  or  others,  what  was  about  to  take  place.  How  Jesus 
dismissed  the  multitude,  or  else  kept  them  at  bay,  or  where  He  parted 
from  all  his  disciples  except  Peter,  James,  and  John,  docs  not  clearly 
appear,  and,  indeed,  is  of  no  importance.  He  may  have  left  the  nine 
Apostles  with  the  peoi)le,  or  outside  the  house,  or  parted  from  them 
in  the  courtyard  of  Jairus'  house  before  he  entered  the  inner  apart- 
ments.'^ 


CHAP. 
XXVI 


"  St.  John 
xi.  6 


'  So  literally. 

^  I  adopt  the  readina;  itapaKovcra?, 
which  seems  to  me  better  rendered  by 
'  overheariiiii;'  than  by  •  not  heeding'. "  as 
in  the  Revised  Version. 

■*  The  word  unquestionably  means, 
literally,  Teacher — but  in  the  sense  of 
Rabbi,  or  Master. 

■*  Those   who    believe    in    an     •  anti- 


Petriue'  tendency  in  the  Gospel  by  St. 
Luke  must  tind  it  difiicult  to  account  for 
the  prominence  given  to  him  in  the  Third 
Gospel. 

'"  I  confess  myself  unable  to  see  any  real 
discrei)ancy  between  the  accounts  of  St. 
Mark  and  St.  Luke,  such  as  S/rin(ss, 
Kciiii,  and  others  have  tried  to  establish. 
Ill  St.  Mark  it  is:   -He  snlfered  no  man 


g30  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE    >[OrNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  AVitliin.  •  the  tumult"  and  weeping,  the  wail  of  the  mourners,  real 

III        or  hired,  and  the  melancholy  sound  of  the  mourning  tlutes  ^ — sad  pre- 

^—^7' —  paratiou  lor,  and  pageantry  of,  an  p]astern  funeral — broke  with  dismal 
discord  on  the  majestic  calm  of  assured  victory  over  death,  with 
which  Jesus  liad  entered  the  house  of  mourning.  But  even  so 
He  would  tell  it  them,  as  so  often  in  like  circumstances  He  tells  it  to 
us,  that  the  damsel  was  not  dead,  but  only  sleeping.  The  Rabbis  also 
frequently  have  the  expression  'to  sleep'  {demakh  -,::-i,  or  -p^-;,  when 
the  sleep  is  overpowering  and  oppressive),  instead  of '  to  die. '  It  may 
well  have  been  that  Jesus  made  use  of  this  word  of  double  meaning 
in  some  such  manner  as  this :  Talyetlia  dimkJiath,  '  the  maiden  sleepcth. ' 
And  they  understood  Him  well  in  their  own  way,  yet  understood  Ilim 
not  at  all. 

As  so  many  of  those  who  now  hear  this  word,  they  to  whom  it 
was  then  spoken,  in  their  coarse  realism,  laughed  Him  to  scorn.  For 
did  they  not  verily  know  that  she  had  actually  died,  even  before  the 
m3ssengers  had  been  despatched  to  prevent  the  needless  trouble  of 
His  coming?  Yet  even  this  their  scorn  served  a  higher  purpose. 
For  it  showed  these  two  things:  that  to  the  certain  belief  of  those 
in  the  house  the  maiden  Avas  really  dead,  and  that  the  Gospel- 
wi^ters  regarded  the  raising  of  the  dead  as  not  only  beyond  the  ordi- 
nary range  of  Messianic  activity,  but  as  something  miracidous  even 
among  the  miracles  of  Christ.  And  this  also  is  evidential,  at  least  so 
far  as  to  prove  that  the  writers  recorded  the  event  not  lightly,  but 
with  full  knowledge  of  the  demand  which  it  makes  on  our  faith. 

The  first  thing  to  be  done  by  Christ  was  to  'put  out"  the 
mourners,  whose  proper  place  this  house  no  longer  was,  and  who  by 
their  conduct  had  proved  themselves  unfit  to  be  witnesses  of  Christ's 
great  manifestation.  The  impression  which  the  narrative  leaves  on 
the  mind  is,  that  all  this  while  the  fatherof  the  maiden  was  stupefied, 
passive,  rather  than  active  in  the  matter.  The  great  fear,  which  had 
come  upon  him  when  the  messengers  apprised  him  of  his  only  child's 
death,  seemed  still  to  numb  his  faith.  He  followed  Christ  without 
taking  any  part  in  what  happened;  he  witnessed  the  pageantry  of 
the  approaching  obsequies  in  his  house  witliout  interfering;  he  heard 
the  scorn  which  Christ's  majestic  declaration-  of  the  victory  over 
deatli  provoked,  without  checking  it.     llie  tire  of  his  faith  was  that 

•  Is.  xiii.  3    of  '  dim!}  burning  flax.'"     But  '  He  will  not  quencL'  it. 

mail  to  accompany  Him'  (whither?);  in  '  Thej-  are  specially  called  'flutes  for 

St.  Luke:  '  He  suffered  not  any  man  to       the  dead-'  (13.  Mez.  vi.  1):  n^:'"  C*!'*'";. 
enter  in  with  Him.' 


'TAL.IKTIIA.    KT'M!'  fj31 

lie  now  led  the  fiitlici' iiinl  the   iiiotlKT  iiitn  the  rliiinihci- wlici'c      CHAP, 
the  (lead  maiden  lay,  rollowcd  by  tlie  tlii'ec  Apostle?;,  witnesses  ol"      XXVI 
His  chicrest  Avoi-kiiio;  and  ol'  His  utmost  earthly  glory,  but  also  of  ^— ^r^— ^ 
His   inmost  suH'crings.     AVithoul   doubt  or  hesitation    He  took  her 
by  tlu'  hand  and  spoke  oidy  these  two  words:   Tahjetlia  Qum  [K^nii^ 
^~ip  Nr'r'j ')j   Maiden,    arise!    'Ami  straightway  the  damsel  ai'ose.' 
But  the  great  astonishment  whieh  rame   upon  them,  as  well   as  the 
'  sti'ait  charge"  that  no  man  shouhl  know  it,  are  further  evidence,  if 
such  were  required,  how  little  their  faith  had  been  prepared  foi*  that 
which  in  its  weakness  was  granted  to  it.     And  thus  Jesus,  as  He 
had  formerly  corrected  in  the  woman  that  weakness  of  faith  which 
came  through  very  excess,  so  now  in  the  Ruler  of  the  Synagogue  the 
weakness  which  was  l)y  failure.     And  so  'He  hath  done  all  things 
Avell:  He  maketh  even  the  deaf  to  hear,  and  the  dumb  to  speak.' ^        "St.  Mark 

^  vil.  37. 

How  Jesus  conveyed  Himself  away,  whether  through  another 
entrance  into  the  house,  or  by  '  the  road  of  the  roofs,'  we  are  not  told. 
But  assuredly.  He  must  have  avoided  the  multitude.  Presently  we 
lind  Him  far  from  Capernaum.  Probably  He  had  left  it  immediately 
on  quitting  the  house  of  Jairus.  But  what  of  tliat  multitude  ?  The 
tidings  must  have  speedily  reached  them,  that  the  daughter  of 
the  Synagogue-Ruler  was  not  dead.  Yet  it  had  been  straitly  charged 
that  none  of  them  should  be  informed,  how  it  had  come  to  pass  that 
she  lived.  They  were  then  with  this  intended  mystery  before  them. 
She  teas  not  dead:  thus  much  was  certain.  The  Christ  had,  ere 
leaving  that  chamber,  given  command  that  meat  should  be  brought 
her;  and,  as  that  direction  must  have  been  carried  out  by  one  of  the 
attendants,  this  would  liecome  immediately  known  to  all  that  house- 
hold. Had  she  then  not  really  died,  but  only  been  sleeping  ?  Did 
Christ's  words  of  double  meaning  refer  to  literal  sleep?  Here  then 
was  another  Parable  ot  twofohl  ditferent  bearing:  to  them  that  had 
hearts  to  understand,  and  to  them  who  understood  not.  In  any  case, 
their  former  scorn  had  l)een  misplaced;  in  any  case,  the  Tea'-her  of 

'  The  readins;  which  aocorfliiiicly  seem.-!  tlie  reading;  '  Talitha  '  is  very  uncertain, 

best  is  that  adopted    by    Westvott  and  As  reii'ards  tlie  second  word,  fjiim  [pro- 

Jloii ,  TaXeifJd  kov^.    Tlie  Aramaic  or  nounced  k/rnt].  most  writers  have,  witli- 

Rabbinic  for  maiden  is  either  TaJyefka  out  ditticulty.   shown   that   it  should  be 

or  7>//v"?'/'"  (Nnr"'*JV     In    the   second  qmni.  not  qmn.    Nevertheless,  the  same 

^    ''    '■  '  '  command  is  spelt  u'JT  in  the  Talmud  (as 

Taruum  on  Esther  n.  7,  8,  the  readin.a;  is  \x  is  pronounced   in   the   Syriac)  when  a 

N,"nri;   (Tahft/ia),    where    Lei-i/  conjee-  tnmianis  addressed.     In  t^habb.  110  i'/, 


t„vQ^    ti.o   ,.Qnri;„r,.   vn*n«.    / 'p  1*1  thc   comnuuid  iiim,   as   addressed  to  a 
tures    tue   reaaintj   JsJi  ~w    (L(ihfh(i\  or  ,r    ■        c  „,         ii      i      «  ,. 

^       T  •  -    V  woman    sutlernii;-   from  ;i     Ijlondv    tiux. 

(dse    Tdlijclhd.     The    latter   seems  also  occurs  not  less  than  i 

the  proper  eriuivalent  of  raAe/Oa',  wliile  one  page  (~p21T^  C^p). 


(532  FROM    .l()i;i)AN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  Nazareth  was  far  otlicr  tliau  all  the  Rabbis.  In  what  Name,  and  by 
ni  wliat  Powe]',  (lid  He  ooiiie  and  act  ':'  Who  was  He  really  ?  Had 
^— '>''*— '  they  but  known  of  the  '  Tahjttha  Qioh,'  and  how  these  two  words  had 
burst  open  the  two-leaved  doors  of  death  and  Hades!  Nay,  but  it 
woidd  have  only  ended  in  utter  excitement  and  complete  misundcr- 
stan<ling,  to  the  final  inii)ossi)jility  of  the  carryin.u'  out  of  Christ's 
Mission.  For.  the  full  as  well  as  the  true  knowledge,  that  He  was 
the  Son  of  God,  could  onlj'  come  after  His  contest  and  suffering. 
And  our  faith  also  in  Him  is  first  of  the  sutlering  Saviour,  and  then  of 
the  Son  of  (iod.  Tiius  was  it  also  from  tlu'  first.  It  was  through 
what  He  did  for  them  that  they  learned  Who  He  was.  Had  it  been 
otherwise,  the  full  blaze  of  the  Sun's  glory  would  have  so  dazzled 
them,  that  they  could  not  liave  seen  the  Cross. 

Yet  to  all  time  has  this  question  engaged  the  minds  of  men: 
Was  the  maiden  really  dead,  or  did  she  only  sleep  ?  With  it  this 
other  and  kindred  one  is  connected:  Was  the  healing  of  the  woman 
miraculous,  or  oidy  caused  by  the  influence  of  mind  over  bod}',  such 
as  is  not  unfreciuently  Avitnessed,  and  such  as  explains  modern  so- 
called  miraculous  cures,  where  only  superstition  perceives  sui)ernatui'al 
agency?  But  tliese  very  words  'Influence  of  mind  over  l)ody,'  with 
which  we  are  so  familiar,  are  they  not,  so  to  speak,  synd)olic  and  typical? 
Do  the}'  not  point  to  the  possibility,  and,  lieyond  it,  to  the  fact  of  such 
influence  of  the  God-Man,  of  the  comnmnd  which  he  wielded  over 
the  ])ody  ?  May  not  comnmnd  of  soul  over  body  be  ])art  of  unfallen 
Man's  original  inheritance;  all  most  fully  realised  in  the  Perfect  Man, 
the  God-Man,  to  Whou)  has  l)een  given  the  absolute  rule  of  all  things, 
and  Who  has  it  in  virtue  of  His  Nature  ?  These  are  only  dim  feelings 
after  possible  higher  truths. 

No  one  who  carefully  reads  this  histoi-y  can  doubt,  that  the 
Evangelists,  at  least,  viewed  this  healing  as  a  real  miracle,  and  in- 
temU^d  to  tell  it  as  such.  Kvcn  the  statement  of  Christ,  that  by  the 
forthgoing  of  Power  He  knew  the  moment  when  the  woman  touched 
the  hem  of  His  garment,  would  render  impossil)le  the  view  of  certain 
critics  {Keiiu  and  others),  that  the  cure  was  the  etfect  of  natural 
causes:  expectation  acting  through  the  inmgination  on  the  nervous 
system,  and  so  producing  the  physical  results.  But  even  so,  and 
Avhilc  these  writers  reiterate  certain  old  cavils'  i)roiiounded  by 
Stran.s.s,  and  l)y  him  often  derived  from  the  ancient  armoury  of  our 
own  Deists  (such  as  WooMon),  they  admit  being  so  iniju-essed  with 
the  •  simple.'  •  natural."  and  •  life-like  "  cast  of  the  nan-ative.  that  they 
'  We  cuiuiot  f;ill  till*  trivial  olijcctinii?;  ui'iidl  uthcr  Iliaii  -c-ivils.' 


WAS   THE   MAIDEN    UEAIJA'    DEAD? 


633 


contciul  I'or  its  histoi'ic  trutli.      But  the  ii'i-cat  leader  of  iieiiat ivism,      CHAP. 
Sfrauss,    has   shown  that  {Ui.y  natural  e.\.[)hinati()n    ol"  the  event  is      XXVI 
opjjosed  to  tlie  wliole  teuour  of  the  narrative,  indeed  of  the   (Josi)el-  ^— -y— ^ 
history;  so  that  the  alternatixc  is   its  siuii)le  aeee[)tanee  or  its  I'ejee- 
tion.     SfrtiKSfi  boldly  deeides   for  the  latter,  but  in  so  doin<j;  is  met 
])y  the  obvious  objcetiou,  that  his  denial  does  not  rest  on  any  historical 
foundation.      \Ve  can  understand,  how  a  le<i'end  could  g'ather  ai'ouud 
historical  facts  and  eud)ellish  them,  but  not  how  a  narrative  so  en 
tirely  without  precedent  in  the  Old  Testament,  anil  so  opposed,  not 
oidy  to  tlu'  common  Messianic  ex})ectation,  but  to  .Jewish  thouo-|it, 
could  have  been  invented  to  glorify  a  Jewish  Messiah.' 

As  regards  the  restoration  to  life  of  Jairus'  daughter,  there  is  a 
like  dilference  in  the  negative  school  (between  Kcint  and  Strauss). 
One  party  insists  that  the  maiden  only  seemed,  but  was  not  really 
dead,  a  view  open  also  to  this  objection,  that  it  is  nuinifestly  impos- 
sible by  such  devices  to  account  tor  the  raising  of  the  young  nmn  at 
Xain,  or  tliat  of  Lazarus.  On  the  other  hand,  Str<ii(ss  treats  the 
whole  as  a  myth.  It  is  well,  that  in  this  case,  he  should  have  con- 
descended to  argument  in  supp(n't  of  his  view,  api>ealing  to  the 
expectancy  created  by  like  miracles  of  Elijah  and  Elisha,  and  to  the 
general  belief  at  that  time,  that  the  Messiah  would  raise  the  dead. 
F(tr,  the  admitted  dilferi'nces  l)etween  the  recorded  circumstances  of 
the  miracles  of  Elijah  and  Elisha  and  those  of  Christ  are  so  great, 
that  another  negative  critic  (Keiiii)  finds  i)roof  of  imitation  in  their 
contrasts! ''     IJut   tlie   anneal   to   .Jewish    belief  at   that   time   tells,  if  -•■Jesuv. 

Nazar.  ii.  2, 

possible,  even  nun'e  sti'ongly  against  the  hypothesis  in  cjuestion  (of  i'- *''•'' 
Keiin  and  St)-(niH.s).  It  is,  to  say  the  least,  doubtful  whether  .Jewish 
theology  generally  ascribed  to  the  Messiah  the  raising  of  the  dead.- 
There  are  isolated  statements  to  that  ett'ect,  but  the  majority  of 
ojiinions  is,  that  God  would  Himself  raise  the  dead.  I>ut  even  those 
])assages  in  which  this  is  attril)uted  to  the  Messiah  tell  against  the 
assertions  of /V^rr/7/.s.s'.  For,  the  resurrection  to  which  they  refer  is 
that  of  (ill  the  dead  (whether  at  the  end  of  the  i)resent  age,  or  of  the 
world),  and  not  of  single  individuals.      To  the  lattei-  there  is  not  the 


'  According-  to  EiisehiKx  (Hist.  l<]ccl. 
vii.  IS)  there  was  a  statue  in  Paneas  in 
comniemoration  of  tliis  event,  whicli  was 
said  to  liave  l)een  erected  l>y  tliis  woman 
to  Clirist. 

-  The  passai^e  wliicJi  Sfiyn/ss  (Hiotes 
from  Bert/iol(ff  {Chv\iito\.  .Fud.  p.  171)).  is 
from  a  later  Midrasli,  tlnit  on  Proverbs. 
No  one  would  think  of  deriviuK  purely 
Jewish  doctrine  either  from  the  Sohar  or 


IVoiii  W.  Es<lras,  wliicii  is  of  post-Ciu'is- 
tian  date,  and  sd'onuiy  tini;-ed  with 
Christian  elements.  Otlier  passages,, 
iiowcxcr.  nugiit  l)c  (prnted  in  favour  of 
this  view  (comp.  Wchcr.  Altsynagog. 
Theol.  pp.  351,  :io2),  and  on  tlie  other 
side,  Handninjer.  Real-Encykl.  (II.  Abth. 
•  Belebunn'  dci'  Todten ').  The  matter 
will  be  discussed  in  the  sequel. 


634  FROM    JOROAX   TO   THE    MOI'XT   OF   TRAX,<FIGUHATIOX. 

IJooK       laiiitt'St  allusion  in  Jewish  wiitin.u's.  and  it  may  be  salbly  asserted  that 
II'         siu'h  a  dogma  would  liave  been  I'oreiun.  <'veii  ineongruous.  to  Jewish 

^— "^^^     -    iheology. 

The  ini])leasant  task  of  stating  and  refuting  these  objeetions 
seemed  necessary,  if  only  to  show  that,  as  of  old  so  now,  this  history 
eanuot  be  citlier  explained  or  accounted  for.  It  must  be  acceptc.'d 
or  rejected,  accordingly  as  we  think  of  Christ.  Admittedly,  it  formed 
l)art  of  the  original  tradition  and  belief  of  the  Church.  And  it  is 
recorded  with  such  details  of  names,  circumstances,  time  and  place, 
as  almost  to  coui't  inquiiw.  and  to  render  fraud  well-nigh  impossible. 
A]u\  it  is  so  recorded  by  all  the  three  Evangelists,  with  such  varia- 
tions, or  rather,  additions,  of  details  as  only  to  confirm  the  credibil- 
ity of  the  nari'atoi'S.  by  showing  their  indei)endence  of  each  otlier. 
Lastly,  it  tits  into  the  Avhole  histoi-y  of  the  Clirist.  and  into  this 
si)ecial  period  of  it:  and  it  sets  l)efore  us  the  Christ  and  His  l)earing 
in  a  manner,  which  we  instinctively  feel  to  be  accordant  with  Avhat 
we  know  and  expect.  Assuredly,  it  imi)lies  determined  rcjecti(ni  of 
the  claims  of  tlie  Clirist.  and  that  on  grounds,  not  of  history.  l)ut 
ol"  ])reconceived  ojjinions  hostile  to  the  (lospel.  not  to  see  and  adore 
in  it  the  full  numifestation  of  the  Divine  Saviour  of  the  world.  •  Wlio 
hath  abolished  death,  and  hath  brought  life  and  immortality  to  light 

«'2Tim.  i.  through  the  (i!osi)el."  ■'  And  with  this  belief  our  highest  thoughts  of 
the  potential  for  humanity,  and  our  dearest  hopes  for  ourselves  and 
those  we  love,  are  inseparably  connected. 


SECOND   VISIT   TO   NAZARETH.  535 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

SECOND  VISIT  TO  NAZARETH — THE  MISSION  OF  THE  TWELVE, 
(St.  Matt.  xiii.  54-58;  x.  1,  5-42;  xi.  I;  St.  Mivrk  vi.  1-13;  St.  Luke  ix.  l-(j.) 

It  almost  seems,  as  if  the  departure  of  Jesus  from  Capernaum  marked     CHAP, 
a  crisis  in  the  history  of  that  town.     From  heneefortli  it  ceases  to  be     XXVII 
the  centi-e  of  His  activity,  and  is  only  occasionally,  and  in  passing,    ^— ^,^— ^ 
visited.      Indeed,  the  concentration  and  <j,-rowing  i)ower  of  Pharisaic 
o])position,  and  the  proximity  of  Herod"s  residence  at  TilK'rias  '  would 
have  rendered  a  permanent  stay  there  im})ossil)le  at  this  stage  in  our 
Lord's  history.   Henceforth,  His  Life  is,  indeed,  not  inirely  missionary, 
but  He  has  no  certain  dwelling-i^lace:  in  the  siil)lime  i)athos  of  His 
own  language,  '  He  liath  not  where  to  lay  His  Head." 

The  notice  in  St.  Mark's    Gospel,'' that  His    discijjles    followed  »st.  Mark 

vi.  1 

Him,  seems  to  connect  the  arrival  of  Jesus  m  •  His  own  country  " 
(at  Xazareth)  with  the  departure  from  the  house  of  Jairus.  into 
which  He  had  allowed  only  three  of  His  Apostles  to  accomi)any  Him. 
The  circumstances  of  the  present  visit,  as  well  as  the  tone  of  His 
couutrymen  at  this  time,  are  entirely  ditfercnt  from  what  is  recorded 
of  His  Ibrmer  sojourn  at  Nazareth.''-'  The  tenacious  narrowness,  and  'st.  Luke 
the  prejiulices,  so  characteristic  ot  such  a  town,  with  its  cliques  and 
petty  family-pride,  all  the  moi'e  self-asserting  that  tlie  gradation  Avould 
1)0  almost  imperceptible  to  an  outsi<ler.  are,  of  course,  the  same  as  on 
the  former  visit  of  Jesus.  Nazareth  would  have  ceased  to  be  Nazareth, 
had  its  people  felt  or  spoken  otherwise  than  nine  or  ten  months 
before.  That  His  fame  had  so  grown  in  the  interval,  wmdd  cmly 
stimulate  the  conceit  of  the  village-town  to  try,  as  it  were,  to  con- 
struct the  great  Propliet  out  of  its  own  building  materials,  with  this 
additional  gratitication  that  He  was  thoroughly  their  own.  and  that 
they  possessed  even  lietter  materials  in  their  Nazareth.  All  this  is  so 
quite  according  to  life,  that  the  substantial  repetition  of  the  former 

'  Altlioiio-li  ill  Bpr.  R.  23  tlip  ori,<;"iii  of  {fibto-if)  of  tlie  laml.  othcns  paraplirasiiij*; 

that    name    is    ri,<>;htly    traced    to     the  the  name   'l)ecaiuse  the  view. was  yood ' 

Emiieror  Tiberius,  it  is  cliaracteristic  that  (Me^'.  (i  a).     Ralibiiiioinireiuiity  declared 

tlie  Tahnud  tries  otiu'rwise  to  derive  the  it  one  of  the  cities  fortified  since  the  time 

name  of  wliat  afterwards  was  tiie  sacred  of  Josliua,  so  as  to  yive  it  tlu>  i)rivilef>es 

capital  of   I'alestiiiian    liabbinism,  some  attachinn'  to  such. 
explaining    that    it    Uiy    in    the     navel  ■•  C()mi)are  Ciiapters  X.  and  XI. 


636  FROM   JORDAN   TO   TllH   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  scene  ill  tlie  Synagogue,  so  Itir  Ironi  snri)rising  us,  seems  only 
HI  natural.  AVhat  surprises  us  is,  what  He  marvelled  at:  the  unbelief 
^— "^c^^'  of  Na/areth,  which  lay  at  tlic  foundation  ofits  estimate  and  treatment 
of  Jesus. 

Upon  their  own  showing  their  unbelief  was  most  unwarrant- 
able. If  ever  men  had  the  means  of  testing  the  claims  of  Jesus, 
the  Nazarenes  possessed  them.  True,  they  were  ignorant  of  the 
miraculous  event  of  His  Incarnation;  and  we  can  now  i)erceive  at 
least  one  of  the  reasons  for  the  mystery,  whicli  was  allowed  to 
euwraj)  it,  as  well  as  the  higher  jnirpose  in  Divine  Providence  of  His 
being  born,  not  in  Nazareth,  but  in  Bethlehem  of  Judtca,  and  of  the 
interval  of  time  between  that  Birth  and  the  return  of  His  parents 
fi'om  Egypt  to  Nazareth.  Apart  from  i)i'oi)hecy,  it  was  needful  for 
Nazareth  that  Christ  should  have  l)een  Ixn'u  in  Bethlehem,  otherwise 
the  '  mystery  of  His  Incarnation  '  must  have  become  known.  And  yet 
it  could  not  have  been  nuide  known,  alike  lor  the  sake  of  those  most 
nearly  concerned,  and  for  that  of  those  who,  at  that  period  of  His 
History,  could  not  have  understood  it;  to  whom,  indeed,  it  would 
have  l)een  an  absolute  hiiulrance  to  l)elief  in  Him.  And  He  could 
not  liave  returned  to  Ik'thlehem,  where  He  was  born,  to  l)e  brought 
up  there,  without  calling  attention  to  the  miracle  of  His  Bii'tli. 
If,  therefore,  for  reasons  easily  comprehended,  the  mystei-y  of  His 
Incarnation  was  not  to  be  divulged,  it  was  needful  that  the  Incarnate 
ofNazareth  should  be  born  at  Bethlehem,  and  the  Infant  of  Beth- 
leliem  be  brought  up  at  Nazareth. 

By  thus  withdrawing  Him  successively  from  one  and  the  other 
place,  there  was  really  none  on  earth  who  knew  of  His  miraculous 
Birth,  except  the  Virgin-Mother,  Joseph,  f]lizabeth,  and  jjroljably 
Zacharias.  The  vision  and  guidance  vouchsafed  to  the  shepherds 
on  that  December  night  did  not  really  disclose  the  mystery  of  His 
Incarnation.  Remembering  their  religious  notions,  it  would  not  leave 
on  them  quite  the  same  impression  as  on  us.  It  might  mean  much, 
or  it  might  mean  little,  in  the  present:  time  would  tell.  In  those 
lands  the  sand  buries  qiuekly  and  buries  deep — preserving,  indeed, 
but  also  hiding  what  it  covers.  And  the  sands  of  thirty  years  had 
buried  the  tale  which  the  shepherds  had  brought;  the  wise  men 
from  the  East  had  returned  another  way;  the  excitement  which 
their  arrival  in  Jerusalem  and  its  object  had  caused,  was  long  for- 
gotten. Messianic  expectations  and  movements  were  of  constant 
recurrence:  the  religious  atmosphere  seemed  charged  with  such 
elements;  and  tlie  ])olitical  changes  and  events  of  tlie  day  were  too 


WHAT   THEY   KNEW   OF   JESUS   IN   NAZARETH? 


63t 


engrossing  to  allow  of  niucli  attention  to  an  isolated  rei)ort,  which, 
after  all,  might  mean  little,  and  which  certainly  was  of  the  long  past. 
To  keep  uj)  attention,  there  mnst  be  communication;  and  that  was 
precisely  wiiat  was  wanting  in  this  instance.  The  reign  of  Herod 
was  ttirnished  by  many  suspicions  and  murders  such  as  those  of 
Bethlehem.  Then  intervened  the  death  of  Herod, — while  the  carry- 
ing of  Jesus  into  Egypt  and  His  non-return  to  Bethlehem  formed  a 
com})lete  break  in  the  continuity  of  His  History.  Between  obscure 
Bethlehem  in  the  far  south,  and  obscure  Nazareth  in  the  far  north, 
there  Avas  no  communication  such  as  between  towns  in  our  own  land, 
and  they  who  had  sought  the  Child's  life,  as  well  as  they  who  might 
have  worshipped  Him,  must  have  been  dead.  The  aged  parents  of 
the  Baptist  cannot  have  survived  the  thirty  years  which  lay  between 
the  Birth  of  Christ  and  the  commencement  of  His  Ministry.  We 
have  already  seen  reason  for  supposing  that  Joseph  had  died  before. 
None,  therefore,  knew  all  except  the  Virgin-Mother;  and  she  would 
hide  it  the  deeper  in  her  heart,  the  more  years  passed,  and  she 
increasingly  felt,  as  they  passed,  that,  both  in  His  early  obscurity  and 
in  His  later  manifestation,  she  could  not  penetrate  into  the  real 
meaning  of  that  mystery,  with  wiiich  she  was  so  closely  connected. 
She  could  not  understand  it;  how  dared  she  speak  of  it  ?  She  could 
not  understand;  nay,  we  can  almost  perceive,  how  she  might  even 
misunderstand — not  the  fact,  but  the  meaning  and  the  purport  of 
what  had  passed. 

But  in  Nazareth  they  knew  nothing  of  all  this;  and  of  Him  only 
as  that  Infant  Whom  His  parents,  Joseph  the  carpenter  and  Mary, 
had  brought  with  them  months  after  they  had  first  left  Nazareth. 
Jewish  law  and  custom  made  it  possible,  that  they  might  have  been 
married  long  before.  And  now  they  only  knew  of  this  humble 
family,  that  they  lived  in  retirement,  and  that  sons  and  daughters 
had  grown  around  their  humble  board.  Of  Jesus,  indeed,  they 
must  have  heard  that  He  was  not  like  others  around — so  (piite 
ditfcrent  in  all  ways,  as  He  grew  in  wisdom  and  stature,  and  in 
favour  with  God  and  man.  Then  came  that  strange  tarrying  behind 
on  His  first  visit  to  Jerusalem,  when  His  parents  had  to  return  to 
seek,  and  at  last  found  Hini  in  the  Temple.  This,  also,  was  only 
strange,  though  perhaps  not  strange  in  a  child  such  as  Jesus;  and  of 
His  own  explanation  of  it,  so  full  of  deepest  meaning,  they  might 
not  have  heard.  If  we  may  draw  probable,  though  not  certain, 
inferences,  after  that  only  these  three  outw^ard  circumstances  in  the 
history  of  the  family  might  have  been  generally  noticed:  that  Jesus 
followed  the  occupation  of  His  adoptive  father:  *   that  Joseph  had 


CHAP. 
XXVH 


■  St.  Mark 
rl.  3 


638 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT  OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


died;  and  that  the  luutlier  and  'brethren'  of  Jesu.s  bad  left  Naza- 
reth/ while  His  'sisters'  apparently  continued  there,  being  prol)a))ly 
uuirried  to  Nazarenes.  " 

When  Jl'sus  had  first  left  Nazareth  to  seek  Baptism  at  the  hands 
of  John)  it  could  scarcely  have  attracted  much  attention.  Not  only 
did  '  the  whole  world  '  go  after  the  Baptist,  but,  considering  what 
was  known  of  Jesus,  His  absence  from,  not  His  presence  at  the  banks 
of  Jordan,  would  have  surprised  the  Nazarenes.  Then  came  vague 
reports  of  His  early  doings,  and,  what  probably  His  countrymen 
Avould  much  more  appreciate,  the  accounts  Avhich  the  Galileans 
brouglit  back  from  the  Feast  of  what  Jesus  had  done  at  Jerusalem. 
His  fame  had  preceded  Him  on  that  memorable  Sabbath,  when  all 
Nazareth  had  thronged  the  Synagogue,  curious  to  hear  what  the 
Child  of  Nazareth  would  have  to  say,  and  still  more  eager  to  see 
what  He  could  do.  Of  the  charm  of  His  words  there  could  l)e  no 
question,  lioth  what  He  said  and  how  He  said  it,  was  quite  other 
than  what  they  had  ever  listened  to.  The  difference  was  not  in 
degree,  but  in  kind:  He  spoke  to  them  of  the  Kingdom;  yet  not  as 
for  Israel's  glory,  but  for  unspeakable  comfort  in  the  soul's  deepest 
need.  It  was  truly  wonderful,  and  that  not  abstractly,  but  as  on 
the  part  of  'Joseph's  Son.'  That  was  all  they  perceived.  Of  that 
which  they  had  most  come  to  see  there  was,  and  could  be,  no  mani- 
festation, so  long  as  they  measured  the  Prophet  by  His  outward 
antecedents,  forgetful  that  it  was  inward  kinship  of  faith,  which  con- 
nected Him  that  brought  the  blessing  with  those  who  received  it. 

But  this  seeming  assunq^tion  of  superiority  on  the  i)art  of 
Joseph's  Son  was  quite  too  much  for  the  better  classes  of  Nazareth. 
It  was  intolerable,  that  He  should  not  only  claim  equality  with  an 
Elijah  or  an  Elisha,  but  place  them,  the  l)urghers  of  Nazareth,  as  it 
were,  outside  the  pale  of  Israel,  below  a  heathen  man  or  woman.  And 
so,  if  He  had  not,  without  the  show  of  it,])roved  the  authority  and  power 
He  possessed,  they  would  have  cast  Him  headlong  over  the  ledge  of 
the  hill  of  their  insulted  town.  And  now  He  had  come  back  to 
them,  after  nine  or  ten  months,  in  totally  different  circumstances. 
No  one  could  any  longer  question  His  claims,  whether  for  good  or 
for  evil.  As  on  the  Sabbath  He  stood  up  once  more  in  that  Syna- 
gogue to  teach,  they  Avere  astonished.  The  rumour  must  have  spread 
that,  notwithstanding  all.  His  own  kin — probably  His  '  sisters."  whom 

^  Tliey  seem  ^o  liavo  settled   in  Caper-  in    Xazarelli   would  have  been  ditlicult. 

naum,    haviiiii;   followed    .Jesud   to   that  The   death  of  Jo-sepli  is    implied  in  liis 

place  on  His  first  removal  to  it.     We  can  not  bein.i;-  mentioned  in  the  later  history 

readily  understand, that  their  Continuance  of  ,Iesus. 


vi.  2 


THE    UNDELIEK   OF   THE   NAZARENES.  63'J 

He  might  have  been  suppuried  by  many  to  have  come  to  visit — did     CHAP. 

not  own  and  lionour  Him  as  a  Prophet.     Or  else,  had  fhey  of  His     XXVn 

own  house  purposely  spread  it,  so  as  not  to  be  involved  in  His  Fate?  ^— ^r^^^ 

But  the  astonishment  with  which  they  heard  Him  on  that  Sabbath 

was  that  of  unbelief.     The  cause  was  so  apparently  inadequate  to  the 

effect!     They  knew  His  supposed  parentage  and  His  brothers;  His 

sisters  were  still  with  them;  and  for  these  many  years  had  they  known 

Him  as  the  carpenter,  the  son  of  the  carpenter.     Whence,  then,  had 

'  this  One,  '  '  these  things,  '  '  and  what  the  wisdom  which  "  was  *  given 

to  this  One  ' — and  these  mi<rlity  works  done  l)v  His  Hands?' ''  "St  Mark 

It  was,  indeed,  more  than  a  difficulty— an  impossibility — to 
account  for  it  on  their  principles.  There  could  be  no  delusion,  no 
collusion,  no  deception.  In  our  modern  cant-phraseology,  tlieirs 
might  have  been  designated  Agnosticism  and  philosophic  doubt. 
But  philosophic  it  certainly  was  not,  any  more  than  much  that  now 
passes,  because  it  bears  that  name;  at  least,  if,  according  to  modern 
negative  criticism,  the  inexplicable  is  also  the  unthinkable.  Nor  was 
it  really  doubt  or  Agnosticism,  any  more  than  much  that  now  covers 
itself  with  that  garb.  It  was,  what  Christ  designated  it — unbelief, 
since  the  questions  would  have  been  easily  answered — indeed,  never 
have  arisen — had  they  believed  that  He  was  the  Christ.  And  the 
same  alternative  still  holds  true.  If  '  this  One '  is  what  negative 
criticism  declares  Him,  which  is  all  that  it  can  know  of  Him  by  the 
outside:  the  Son  of  Mary,  the  Carpenter  and  Son  of  the  carpenter 
of  Nazareth,  Whose  family  occupied  the  humblest  position  among 
Galileans — then  whence  this  wisdom  which,  say  of  it  what  you  will, 
underlies  all  modern  thinking,  and  these  mighty  works,  which  have 
moulded  all  modern  history?  Whence — if  He  be  only  what  you  can 
see  by  the  outside,  and  yet  His  be  such  wisdom,  and  such  mighty  deeds 
have  been  wrought  by  His  Hands?  Is  He  only  what  you  say  and  see, 
seeing  that  such  results  are  noways  explicable  on  such  principles;  or 
is  He  not  much  more  than  this — even  the  Christ  of  God? 

'  And  He  marvelled  because  of  their  unbelief  '  In  view  of  their 
own  reasoning  it  was  most  unreasonable.  And  equally  unreasonable 
is  modern  unbelief.  For,  the  more  strongly  negative  criticism  asserts 
its  position  as  to  the  Person  of  Jesus,  the  more  unaccountable  are  His 
Teaching  and  the  results  of  His  Work. 

In  such  circumstances  as  at  Nazareth,  nothing  could  be  done  by 
a  Christ,  in  contradistinction  to  a  miracle-monger.  It  would  have 
been  impossible  to  have  finally  given  up  His  own  town  of  Nazareth 
without  one  further  appeal  and  one  further  opportunity  of  repentance. 


640 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
'  III 


»  St.  Matt 
ix.  36-38 

'■  St.  Luke 
X.  2 


'•  Com  p. 
St.  Matt. 
26  with 
St.  Luke 
xii.  1,  2 


•^  St.  Matt. 
X.  o  to  the 
end 


As  He  had  begun,  so  He  closed  this  part  of  His  Galilean  Ministry, 
by  preaching:  in  His  own  Synagogue  of  Nazareth.  Save  in  the  case 
of  a  few  who  were  receptive,  on  whom  He  laid  His  Hands  for  healing, 
His  visit  passed  away  without  such  '  mighty  works  '  as  the  Nazarenes 
had  heard  of.  He  will  not  return  again  to  Nazareth.  Henceforth 
He  will  make  commencement  of  sending  forth  His  disciples,  partly 
to  disarm  prejudices  of  a  personal  character,  partly  to  spread  the  Gos- 
pel-tidings farther  and  wider  than  he  alone  could  have  carried  them. 
For  His  Heart  compassionated  the  many  who  were  ignorant  and  out 
of  the  way.  And  ttie  harvest  was  near,  and  the  harvesting  was  great, 
and  it  was  His  Harvest,  into  which  He  would  send  forth  labourers. 

For,  although,  in  all  likelihood,  the  words,  from  which  quotation 
has  just  been  made,  '^  were  spoken  at  a  later  time, "  they  are  so  entirely 
in  the  spirit  of  the  present  Mission  of  the  Twelve,  that  they,  or  words 
to  a  similar  effect,  may  also  have  been  uttered  on  the  present  occasion. 
Of  such  seeming  repetitions,  when  the  circumstances  were  analogous, 
although  sometimes  with  ditlcrent  application  of  the  same  many- 
sided  words,  there  are  not  a  few  instances,  of  wliich  one  will  presently 
come  under  notice. "  Truly  those  to  whom  the  Twelve  were  sent  forth 
were  '  troubled '  ^  as  well  as  '  scattered,  '  like  sheep  that  have  not  a 
Shepherd,  and  it  was  to  deliver  them  from  the  '  distress '  caused  by 
'  grievous  wolves,  '  and  to  gather  into  His  fold  those  that  had  been 
scattered  abroad,  that  Jesus  sent  forth  the  Twelve  with  the  special 
commission  to  which  attention  will  now  be  directed.  Viewing  it  in 
its  fullest  form,*^  it  is  to  be  noted: — 

First:  That  this  Discourse  of  Christ  consists  of  five  parts:  vv.  5 
to  15;  vv.  16  to  23;  vv.  24  to  33;  vv.  34  to  39;  vv.  40  to  the  end. 

Secondly:  That  many  passages  in  it  occur  in  different  connections 
in  the  other  two  Synoptic  Gospels,  specially  in  St.  Mark  xiii.  and  in 
St.  Luke  xii.  and  xxi.  From  this  it  may  be  inferred,  either  that  Jesus 
spake  the  same  or  similar  words  on  more  than  one  occasion  (when  the 
circumstances  were  analogous),  or  else  that  St.  Matthew  grouped 
together  into  one  Discourse,  as  being  internally  connected,  sayings  that 
may  have  been  spoken  on  different  occasions.  Or  else — and  this  seems 
to  us  the  most  likely — both  these  inferences  may  in  part  be  correct. 
For, 

Thirdly:  It  is  evident,  that  the  Discourse  reported  by  St.  Matthew 
goes  far  beyond  that  Mission  of  the  Twelve,  beyond  even  that  of 
the  Early  Church,  indeed,  sketches  the  history  of  the  Church's  Mission 
in  a  hostile  world,  up  '  to  the  end.  '     At  the  same  time  it  is  equally 


'  So  in  St.  Mutt.  ix.  36. 


DISCOURSE   OF   CHRIST   ON   THE   MISSION    OF   THE   TWELVE.  641 

evident,  that  the  predictions,  warnings,  and  promises  applicable  to  a     CHAP, 
later  period  in  the  Church's  history,  hold  equally  true  in  principle  in     XXVii 

ret'erence  to  the  first  Mission  of  the  Twelve;  and,  conversely,  that  ^-^"^ 

what  specially  applied  to  it,  also  holds  true  in  principle  of  the  whole 
subsequent  history  of  the  Church  in  its  relation  to  a  hostile  world. 
Thus,  what  was  specially  si)okcn  at  this  time  to  the  Twelve,  has  ever 
since,  and  rightly,  been  applied  to  the  Church:  while  that  in  it, 
which  specially  refers  to  the  Church  oi'the  future,  would  in  principle 
apply  also  to  the  Twelve. 

Fourthly:  This  distinction  of  primary  and  secondary  application 
in  the  diftcrent  parts  of  the  Discourse,  and  their  union  in  the  general 
principles  underlying  them,  has  to  be  kept  in  view,  if  we  are  to  under- 
stand this  Discourse  of  Christ.  Hence,  also,  the  present  and  the 
future  seem  in  it  so  often  to  run  into  each  other.  The  horizon  is 
gradually  enlarging  throughout  the  Discourse,  but  there  is  no  change 
in  the  standpoint  originally  occupied;  and  so  the  present  merges 
into  the  future,  and  the  future  mingles  with  the  present.  And  this, 
indeed,  is  also  the  characteristic  of  much  of  Old  Testament  prophecy, 
and  which  made  the  prophet  ever  a  preacher  of  the  present,  even 
while  he  was  a  foreteller  of  the  future. 

Lastly:  It  is  evidential  of  its  authenticity,  and  deserves  special 
notice,  that  this  Discourse,  while  so  un-Jewish  in  spirit,  is  more  than 
any  other,  even  more  than  that  on  the  Mount,  Jewish  in  its  forms  of 
thought  and  modes  of  expression. 

With  the  help  of  these  principles,  it  will  be  more  easy  to  mark 
the  general  outline  of  this  Discourse.     Its  first  parf*  applies  entirely  "St.  Matt. 
to  this  first  Mission  of  the  Twelve,  although  the  closing  words  point 
forward  to  '  the  judgment." "  Accordingly  it  has  its  parallels,  althougii  '  ver.  15 
in  briefer  form,  in  the  other  two  Gospels. "=  est.  Mark 

1.  The  Twelve  were  to  go  forth  two  and  two,"  furnished   with   stLukeix, 
authority' — or,  as  St.  Luke  more  fully  expresses  it,  with  'power  an( 
authority  ' — alike  over  all  demons  and  to  heal  all  manner  of  disenscs.   vi 
It  is  of  secondary  inq)ortance,  whether  this  was  conveyed  to  them  l^y 
word  only,  or  with  some  sacramental  sign,  such  as  breathing  on  them 
or  the  laying  on  of  hands.     The  special  connnission,  for  which  they 
received  such  power,  was  to  ])roclaini  the  near  advent  of  the  King- 
dom, and,  in  manifestation  as  well  as  in  evidence  of  it,  to  heal  the  sick, 
cleanse  the  lepers,  and  cast  out  demons.'^     They  were  to  speak  good 

'  So  also   in  St.  Matthew   aiul  in  St.  -  Dean    Plinnptre     remarks:      -The 

Mark.  But  this  '  authority  '  sprang  from  words  ("raise  the  dead  ")  are  omitted  by 
the  power  which  he  gave  them.  the  best  JISS.' 


1- 

■^  St.  Mark 


642  FKO.M   .lOIJDAN   TO   THE   MOUiNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      and  to  do  good  in  the  highest  sense,  and  that  in  a  manner  which  all 

III        would  feel  good:  freely,  even  as  they  had  received  it.     Again,  they 

^ — ^' — ^   wei'o  not  to  make  any  special  provision  '  for  their  journey,  beyond  the 

absolute  iuimctliate  present.-     They  were  but  labourers,  yet  as  such 

they  had  claim  to  support.     Their  p]mi)loyer  would  ])rovide,  and  the 

='C.)mi).  for  field  in  which  thev  worked  might  well  be  expected  to  sui^nly  it."^ 

Ihis  IcattLl-  "... 

aspect  In  accordance  with  this,  singleness  of  purrxjse  and  an  entire  self- 

1  Tim.  V.  18  .  )  o  11 

denial,  which  should  lead  them  not  to  make  provision  '  for  the  flesh. ' 
r)ut  ns  la1)onrors  to  be  content  with  daily  food,  were  the  further  injunc- 
tions laid  on  them.  Before  entering  into  a  city,  they  were  to  make 
inquiry,  literally  to  '  search  out,'  who  in  it  was  '  worthy,'  and  of  them 
to  ask  hospitality;  not  seeking  during  their  stay  a  change  for  the 
gratification  of  vanity  or  for  self-indulgence.  If  the  report  on  which 
they  had  made  choice  of  a  host  proved  true,  then  the  '  Peace  with 
thee!' with  which  they  had  entered  their  temporary  home,  would 
become  a  reality.  Christ  woukl  make  it  such.  As  He  had  given 
them  'power  and  authority,'  so  He  would  'honour'  the  draft  on 
Him,  in  acknowledgment  of  hospitable  reception,  which  the  Apostles' 
'  Peace  with  thee ! '  implied. 

But  even  if  the  house  should  prove  uuAvorthy,  the  Lord  would 
none  the  less  own  the  words  of  His  messengers  and  make  them  real; 
only,  in  such  case  the  peace  would  return  to  them  wiio  had  spoken 
it.  Yet  another  case  was  possible.  The  house  to  which  their 
■  inquiries  had  led  them,  or  the  city  into  which  they  had  entered,  might 
refuse  to  receive  them,  because  they  came  as  Christ's  ambassadors- 
Greater,  indeed,  Avould  be  their  guilt  than  that  of  the  cities  of  the 
plain,  since  these  had  not  known  the  character  of  the  heavenly  guests 
to  whom  they  refused  reception;  and  more  terrible  would  be  their 
future  punishment.  So  Christ  would  vindicate  their  authority  as 
well  as  His  own,  and  show  the  reality  of  their  commission:  on  the 
one  hand,  by  making  their  Word  of  Peace  a  reality  to  those  who  had 
proved  '  worthy;  '  and,  on  the  other,  by  punishment  if  their  message 

'   TT1??ss  (Alatth.    Evang.    p.    262)  has  of  the  staff  to  hold  valuables,  or,  in  the 

the  curious  idea    that  the  prohibitions  case  of  the  poor,  water  (Kel.  xvii.  16). 
about  money,  <fec.,    refer  to   their    not  ■■*  According  to  Jewish  Law,    'thela- 

maklug  gain  on  their  journey.  bourers  '  (the  Z'-r*;;,  at  least),  would  be 
*             -  Sandals,  but  not  shoes.     As  regards 

the  marked  difference  about  '  the  staff,'  secured  their  food.  Not  so  always,  how- 
Ehrnrd  (Evang.  Gesch,  p.  459)  points  ever,  slaves  (Gitt.  12  a).  In  general,  the 
out  tlio  airre(>ment  of  Ihoiu/hl  in  all  the  Rabbinic  Law  of  slavery  is  exceeding 
Gospels.  Nothing  was  to  betaken—  harsii— far  more  so  than  that  of  the  Pen- 
thev  were  to  go  as  thev  stood,  without  tateuch  (comp.  an  abstract  of  the  Laws 
preparation  or  provision.  Sometimes  of  Slavery  in  Fr^s.W,  .Mos.-Rabb.  Civil- 
there  was  a  secret  receptacle  at  the  top  Recht,  vol.  ii.  pp.  :;93-406). 


JEWISH    FORM   OF   THE    DISCOURSE. 


643 


was  rcfuscil.  Lastly,  in  their  present  Mission  they  were  not  to  touch 
either  Gentile  or  Samaritan  territory.  The  direction — so  different 
in  spirit  from  what  Jesus  Himself  had  previously  said  and  done, 
and  from  their  own  later  commission — was,  of  course,  only  '  for  the 
present  necessity. ' '  For  the  present  they  were  neither  prepared  nor 
fitted  to  go  beyond  the  circuit  indicated.  It  would  have  been  a  fatal 
anticipation  of  their  inner  and  outer  history  to  have  attempted  this, 
and  it  would  have  defeated  the  object  of  our  Lord  of  disarming  pre- 
judices when  making  a  final  a])peal  to  the  Jews  of  Galilee. 

Even  these  considerations  lead  us  to  expect  a  strictly  Jewish  cast 
in  this  Discourse  to  the  Disciples.  The  command  to  abstain  from 
any  religious  fellowship  with  Gentiles  and  Samaritans  was  in  tempo- 
rary accommodation  to  the  prejudices  of  His  disciples  and  of  the  Jews. 
And  the  distinction  between  '  the  way  of  the  Gentiles  '  and  '  any  city 
of  the  Samaritans  '  is  the  more  significant,  when  we  bear  in  mind 
that  even  the  dust  of  a  heathen  road  was  regarded  as  defiling,"  while 
the  houses,  springs,  roads,  and  certain  food  of  the  Samaritans  Avere 
declared  clean."  At  the  same  time,  religiously  and  as  regarded  fellow- 
ship, the  Samaritans  were  placed  on  the  same  footing  with  Gentiles." 
Xor  would  the  injunction,  to  impart  their  message  freely,  sound 
strange  in  Jewish  ears.  It  was,  in  fact,  what  the  Rabbis  themselves 
most  earnestly  enjoined  in  regard  to  the  teaching  of  the  Law  and 
traditions,  however  different  their  practice  may  have  been.**  Indeed, 
the  very  argument,  that  they  were  to  impart  freely,  because  they  had 
received  freely,  is  employed  by  the  Rabbis,  and  derived  from  the  lan- 
guage and  example  of  Moses  in  Dent,  iv,  5.''^  Again,  the  directions 
about  not  taking  staff",  shoes,  nor  money-purse,  exactly  correspond 
to  the  Rabbinic  injunction  not  to  enter  the  Temple-in-ecincts  with 
staff',  shoes  ^  (mark,  not  sandals),  and  a  money-girdle. '^^  The  syml)olic 
reasons  underlying  this  command  would,  in  both  cases,  be  probably 
the  same:  to  avoid  even  the  appearance  of  being  engaged  on  other 
business,  when  the  whole  being  should  be  absorbed  in  the  service  of 
the  Lord.  At  any  rate,  it  would  convey  to  the  disciples  the  idea, 
that  they  were   to  consider  themselves  as  if  entering  the  Temple- 


CHAP. 
XXVII 


'^  Sanh. 
15  h:  Ned. 
53  6 

•>  Jer. 
Atihod.  Z 
iid 

'  Jer.  Sheq. 
1.  ."),  p.  46  l> 


'J  Ab.  i.  13 


cAb.  iv.  5: 
Bekll0r.29n 


'  The  direction  is  recorded  by  St. 
Matthew  only.  But  St.  Matt,  xxviii.  11) 
would,  if  it  were  necessary,  sufficiently 
prove  that  this  is  not  a  Juilaistic  limita- 
tion. 

-  At  the  same  time  the  statement  in 
Bekhor.  29  a,  that  'if  needful  money 
w^as  to  be  paid  for  the  acquisition  of 
learniua;.'  according  to  Prov.  xxiii.    23 


('by  the  truth'),  implies  that  the  rule 
cannot  always  have  been  strictly  ob- 
served. 

■^  The  Manal  P^^^^)  or  shoe,  in  con- 
tradistinction to  the  Sandal  (T''T..;C),  as 
in  .Ter.  Shabb.  8  a. 

*  The  PtDidah  (nn:iS),  or  Aphumlah 

(-•i:i^N).  Comp.  for  ex.  Jer.  Shabb.  12  c. 


()44 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


i  Jer.  Peah 
16  a 


f  According 
to  Gfcn. 
xiii.  3 

?  Arach. 
16  b,  lines 
12  and  11 
from 
bottom 

h  St.  Matt. 
X.  1-15 

i  St.  Matt. 
X.  16-23 


t  vv.  16-18 


precincts,  thus  carryiug  out  the  })riiiciplo  of  Christ's  first  thou.u-ht  in 
the  Tcin})le:  '  Wist  yc  not  tliat  I  must  be  about  My  Father's  business? '  * 
Nor  could  they  bo  in  doubt  wliat  severity  of  final  punishment  a  doom 
heavier  than  that  of  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  would  imply,  since,  ac- 
cording- to  early  tradition,  their  inhabitants  were  to  have  no  part  in  the 
world  to  come.''  And  most  imjjressive  to  a  Jewish  mind  would  be  the 
symbolic  injunction,  to  shake  oft' the  dust  of  their  feet  for  a  testimony 
■against  such  a  house  or  city.  The  expression,  no  doubt,  indicated 
that  the  ban  of  the  Lord  was  resting  on  it,  and  the  .'*yml)olic  act 
would,  as  it  were,  be  the  solemn  pronouncing  that  '  nouglit  of  the 
cursed  thing  '  clave  to  them."  ^  In  this  sense,  anything  that  clave 
to  a  person  was  metaphorically  called  'the  dust,'  as  for  example, 
'  the  dust  of  an  evil  tongue,'  '^  '  the  dust  of  usury,'  as,  on  the  other 
hand,  to  'dust  to  idolatry  '  meant  to  cleave  to  it."  Even  the  injunc- 
tion not  to  change  the  dwelling,  where  one  had  been  received,  was 
in  accordance  with  Jewish  views,  the  example  of  Abraham  being 
quoted,  who  *"  '  returned  to  the  place  where  his  tent  had  been  at  the 
lieginning. '  ^  ~ 

These  remarks  show  how  closely  the. Lord  followed,  in  this  first 
part  of  His  charge  to  the  disciples,"  Jewish  forms  of  thinking  and 
modes  of  expression.  It  is  not  otherwise  in  the  second,  '  although 
the  dift'erence  is  hero  very  marked.  We  have  no  longer  merely  the 
original  commission,  as  it  is  given  in  almost  the  same  terms  by 
St.  Mark  and  St.  Luke.  But  the  horizon  is'  now  enlarged,  and 
St.  Matthew  reports  that  which  the  other  Evangelists  record  at  a 
later  stage  of  the  Lord's  Ministry.  Whether  or  not  when  the  Lord 
charged  His  disciples  on  their  first  mission,  He  was  led  gradually  to 
enlarge  the  scope  of  His  teaching  so  as  to  adapt  it  to  all  times,  need 
not  be  discussed.  For  St.  Matthew  himself  could  not  have  intended 
to  confine  the  words  of  Christ  to  this  first  journey  of  the  Apostles, 
since  they  contain  references  to  division  in  families,  persecutions, 
and  conflict  Avith  the  civil  power,"  such  as  belong  to  a  much  later 
period  in  the  history  of  the  Church;  and,  besides,  contain  also  that 
prediction  which  could  not  have  applied  to  this  first  Mission  of  the 
Apostles,  '  Ye  shall  not  have  gone  over  the  cities  of  Israel,  till  the 
Son  of  Man  be  come.' "' 


^  The  explanations  of  this  expression 
generally  offered  need  not  here  be  re- 
peated. 

'^  So  common,  indeed,  was  this  view  as 
to  have  become  i)roverV)ial.  Thus,  it  was 
saidconcernintr  learned  descendants  of  a 


learned  man,  that  '  the  Torali  returned 
into  its  Akhsauijd  (f^cevia),'  or  hospice 
(Balm  Mez.  85  (t,  bis,  in  the  curious  story 
about  the  successful  attempts  made  to 
convert  to  study  the  dissolute  son  of  a 
great  Rabbi). 


'SHEEP   IN   THE   MIDST   OF  AVOLVES.'  g45 

Without  here  anticipating  the  full  inquiry   into  the  promise  of     CHAP. 
His  immediate  Coming,  it  is  impoi'tant  to  avoid,  even  at  this  stage,      XXVH 
any  possible  misunderstanding  on  the  point.     The  expectation  of  the  ^— ^r— ^ 
Coming  of  'the  Son  of  Man'  was  grounded  on  a  prophecy  of  Daniel,"  "Dan.  vu. 

13 

in  which  that  Advent,  or  rather  manifestation,  was  associated  with 
judgment.  The  same  is  the  case  in  this  Ciiarge  of  our  Lord.  The 
disciples  in  their  work  are  described  '  as  sheep  in  tlie  midst  of 
wolves,'  a  phrase  which  the  Midrash ''  api)lies  to  the  position  of  >>  on  Esther 
Israel  amidst  a  hostile  world,  adding:  IIow  great  is  that  Shepherd,  warsh.^.! 
Who  delivers  them,  and  vanquishes  the  wolves!  Similarly,  the 
admonition  to  '  be  wise  as  serpents  and  harmless  as  doves '  is  repro- 
duced in  the  Midrash,'"  where  Israel  is  described  as  harmless  as  the  '  on  cant. 

'  •  ii.  14 

dove  towards  God,  and  wise  as  serpents  towards  the  hostile  Gentile 
nations.  Such  and  even  greater  would  be  the  enmity  which  the 
disciples,  as  the  true  Israel,  Avould  have  to  encounter  from  Israel 
after  the  flesh.  They  would  be  handed  over  to  the  various  Sanhedrin,^ 
and  visited  with  such  punishments  as  these  tribunals  had  power  to 
inflict."  More  than  this,  they  would  be  brought  before  governors  and  ^  st.  Matt, 
kings — primarily,  the  Roman  governors  and  the  Herodian  princes.*' 
And  so  determined  would  be  this  persecution,  as  to  break  the  ties  of 
the  closest  kinship,  and  to  bring  on  them  the  hatred  of  all  men.*^  fw.  21, 22 
The  only,  but  the  all-sufficient-,  support  in  those  terrible  circum- 
stances was  the  assurance  of  such  help  from  above,  that,  although 
unlearned  and  humble,  they  need  have  no  care,  nor  make  preparation 
in  their  defence,  which  would  be  given  them  from  above.  And  with 
this  they  had  the  promise,  that  he  who  endured  to  the  end  would 
be  saA'ed,  and  the  prudential  direction,  so  far  as  possible,  to  avoid 
persecution  by  timely  withdrawal,  which  could  be  the  more  readily 
achieved,  since  they  would  not  have  completed  their  circuit  of  the 
cities  of  Israel  before  the  'Son  of  Man  be  come.' 

It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  to  keep  in  view  that,  at  whatever 
period  of  Christ's  Ministry  this  prediction  and  promise  Avere  spoken, 
and  whether  only  once  or  oftener,  they  refer  exclusively  to  a  Jeicish 
state  of  things.  The  persecutions  are  exclusively  Jewish.  This  ap- 
pears from  verse  18,  Avhere  the  ansAver  of  the  disciples  is  promised 
to  be  'for  a  testimony  against  them,'  who  had  deliA'cred  them  up, 
that  is,  here  evidently  the  Jews,  as  also  against  'the  Gentiles.'  And 
the  Evangelistic  circuit  of  the  disciples  in  their  preaching  was  to  be 
primm^ily  Jewish]  and  not  only  so,  but  in  the  time  Avhen  there  Avere 

'  The  question  of  the  constitution  and  jurisdiction  of  tlie  various  Sanhedrin  will  be 
discussed  in  another  place. 


646 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  St.  Jolrn 
xi.  48 


i>  St.  Luke 
xxi.  29-31 


«  St.  Matt. 
xxl.  33-46, 
and  the 
parallels 


Still  'cities  of  Israel/  that  is,  previous  to  the  final  destruction  of  the 
Jewish  commonwealth.  The  reference,  then,  is  to  that  period  of 
Jewish  persecution  and  of  Apostolic  preaching  in  the  cities  of  Israel, 
which  is  bounded  by  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem.  Accordingly, 
the  'coming  of  the  Son  of  Man,'  and  the  '  end'  here  spoken  of,  must 
also  have  the  same  application.  It  was,  as  we  have  seen,  according 
to  Dan.  vii.  13,  a  coming  in  judgment.  To  the  Jewish  persecuting 
authorities,  who  had  rejected  the  Christ,  in  order,  as  they  imagined, 
to  save  their  City  and  Temple  from  the  Romans, ^^  and  to  whom  Christ 
had  testified  that  He  would  come  again,  this  judgment  on  their  city 
and  state,  this  destruction  of  their  polity,  ivas  '  the  Coming  of  the 
Son  of  Man '  in  judgment,  and  the  only  coming  which  the  Jews,  as 
a  state,  could  expect,  the  only  one  meet  for  them,  even  as,  to  them 
who  look  for  Him,  He  will  appear  a  second  time,  without  sin  unto 
salvation. 

That  this  is  the  only  natural  meaning  attaching  to  this  prediction, 
especially  when  compared  with  the  parallel  utterances  recorded  in 
St.  Mark  xiii.  9-13,  appears  to  us  indul)itable.  It  is  another  question 
how,  or  how  far,  those  to  whom  these  words  were  in  the  first  place 
addressed  would  understand  their  full  bearing,  at  least  at  that  time. 
Even  supposing,  that  the  disciples  who  first  heard  did  not  distinguish 
between  the  Coming  to  Israel  in  judgment,  and  that  to  the  world  in 
mingled  judgment  and  mercy,  as  it  was  afterwards  conveyed  to  them 
in  the  Parable  of  the  Forthshooting  of  the  Fig-tree,  "^  yet  the  early 
Christians  must  soon  have  become  aware  of  it.  For,  the  distinction 
is  sharply  marked.  As  regards  its  manner,  the  '  second '  Coming  of 
Christ  may  be  said  to  correspond  to  the  state  of  those  to  whom  He 
Cometh.  To  the  Jews  His  first  Coming  was  visible^  an(l  as  claiming 
to  be  their  King.  They  had  asked  for  a  sign;  and  no  sign  was  given 
them  at  the  time.  They  rejected  Him,  and  placed  the  Jewish  polity 
and  nation  in  rebellion  against  'the  King.'  To  the  Jews,  who  so 
rejected  the  first  visible  appearance  of  Christ  as  their  King,  the 
second  appearance  would  be  invisible  but  real;  the  sign  which  they 
had  asked  would  be  given  them,  but  as  a  sign  of  judgment,  and  His 
Coming  would  be  in  judgment.  Thus  would  His  authority  be  vindi- 
cated, and  He  appear,  not,  indeed,  visibly  but  really,  as  what  He 
had  claimed  to  be.  That  this  was  to  be  the  manner  and  object  of 
His  Coming  to '  Israel,  was  clearly  set  forth  to  the  disciples  in  the 
Parable  of  the  Unthankful  Husbandmen. "=  The  coming  of  the  Lord 
of  the  vineyard  would  be  the  destruction  of  the  wicked  husbandmen. 
And   to   render  misunderstanding  impossible,    the    explanation    is 


THE   COMING   OF   THE   SON   OF   MAN.  647 

immediately  added,  that  tlie  Kingdom  of  God  Avas  to  be  taken  from     chap. 
them,  and  given  to  those  who  wonld  bring  forth  the  fruits  thereof.      XXVii 

Assured!}',  this  could  not,  even  in  the  view  of  the  disciples,  which  ' r — 

may  have  been  formed  on  the  Jewish  model,  have  applied  to  the 
Coming  of  Christ  at  the  end  of  the  present  .Eon  dispensation. 

We  bear  in  mind  that  this  second,  outwardly  invisible  but  very 
real.  Coming  of  tlie  Son  of  Man  to  the  Jews,  as  a  state,  could  only  be 
in  judgment  on  their  polity,  in  that  '  Sign  '  which  was  once  refused, 
but  which,  when  it  a])peared,  would  only  too  clearly  vindicate  His 
claims  and  authority.  Thus  vieAved,the  passages,  in  which  that  second 
Coming  is  referred  to,  will  yield  their  natural  meaning.  Neither  the 
mission  of  the  disciples,  nor  their  journeying  through  the  cities  of 
Israel,  was  finished,  before  the  Son  of  Man  came.  Nay,  there  were 
those  standing  there  who  would  not  taste  death,  till  they  had  seen  in 
the  destruction  of  the  city  and  state  the  vindication  of  the  Kingship  of 
Jesus,  which  Israel  had  disowned."  And  even  in  those  last  Discourses  «st.  Matt. 

xvi.  28,  and 

in  which  the  horizon  gradually  enlarges,  and  this  Coming  m  judgment  paraueis 
to  Israel  merges  in  the  greater  iudgment  on  an  unbelieving  world,"  "st.  Matt. 

.  ...  "^  xxlv.  and 

this  earlier  Coming  to  the  Jewish  nation  is  clearly-  marked.     The  parallels 

three  Evangelists  equally  record  it.  that  '  this  generation  '  should  not 

pass  awav.  till  all  things  were  fulfilled.''     To  take  the  lowest  view,  it  'St.  jiatt. 

;  '  .  ,  '  xxiv.  ;i4:St. 

IS  scarcelv  conceivable  that  these  savings  would  have  been  allo^j^ed  to  Mark  sin. 

".      ;  30,  St.  Luke 

Stand  m  all  tlie  three  Gospels,  if  the  disciples  and  the  early  Church  had  xxi.  32 
understood  the  Coming  of  the  Son  of  Man  in  any  other  sense  than  as 
to  the  Jews  in  the  destruction  of  their  polity.      And  it  is    most 
significant,  that  the  final  utterances  of  the  Lord  as  to  His  Coming 
were  elicited  by  questions  arising  from  the   predicted   destruction 
of  the  Temple.     This  the  early  disciples  associated  with  the  final 
Coming  of  Christ.     To  explain  more  fully  the  distinction  between 
thein  Avould  have  been  impossible,  in  consistency  with  the   Lord's 
general  purpose  about  the  doctrine  of  His  Coming.  Yet  the  Parables 
which  in  the  Gospels  (especially  in  that  by  St.  Matthew)  follow  on  xsv".'i-3o' 
these  predictions,"*  and  the  teaching  about  the  final  Advent  of  'the  cfn,y^'-^^^ 
Son  of  Man,'  point  clearly  to  a  difference  and  an  interval  between  the  f"",'\-,^'^'' 
one  and  the  other.  i)assiju 

.....  *^  jjos,  xii. 

The  disciples  must  have  the  more  readily  applied  this  prediction  12    " 

of  His  Coming  to  Palestine,  since  '  the  woes  '  connected  with  it  so  'Ex.  u.  15 

closely  corresponded  to  those  expected  by  the  Jews  before  the  Advent  xix.  12;' 

of  Messiah.''     Even  the  direction  to  fiee  from  persecution  is  repeated  Bemu'ib.  r. 

by  the  Rabbis   in    similar   circumstances    and    established   by   the  w'arsii.  p. 

example  of  Jacob,'  of  Moses,  ^  and  of  David.''  Tanch. 


648 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  St.  Matt. 
£.  24-34 


<>  Jer.  Ber. 
13  6 


«  Abod.  Z. 
18  b,  and 
often 


In  the  next  section  of  this  Discourse  of  our  Lord,  as  reported  by 
St.  Matthew,"*  tlie  horizon  is  enlarged.  The  statements  arc  still 
primarily  applicable  to  the  early  disciples,  and  their  preaching  among 
the  Jews  and  in  I'alestine.  But  their  ultimate  bearing  is  already 
wider,  and  includes  predictions  and  principles  true  to  all  time.  In 
view  of  the  treatment  which  their  Master  received,  the  disciples 
must  expect  misrepresentation  and  evil-speaking.  Nor  could  it  seem 
strange  to  them,  since  even  the  common  Rabbinic  proverb  had  it:  ' 
'  It  is  enough  for  a  servant  to  be  as  his  lord '  ("iDis  Nn^r  -3^"'  "l"'"}).  As 
we  hear  it  from  the  lips  of  Christ,  we  remember  that  this  saying 
afterwards  comforted  those,  who  mourned  the  downfall  of  wealthy  and 
liberal  homes  in  Israel,  by  thoughts  of  the  greater  calamity  which  had 
overthrown  Jerusalem  and  the  Temple.  And  very  significant  is  its 
application  by  Christ:  'If  they  have  called  the  Master  of  the  house 
Beelzebul,'Miow  much  more  them  of  His  household.'  This  charge, 
brought  of  course  by  the  Pharisaic  party  of  Jerusalem,  had  a  double 
significance.  AVe  believe,  that  the  expression  '  Master  of  the  house  ' 
looked  Inick  to  the  claims  which  Jesus  had  made  on  His  first  purifi- 
cation of  the  Temple.  We  almost  seem  to  hear  the  coarse  Rabbinic 
witticism  in  its  play  on  the  word  Beelzebul.  For,  Zebhul,  (^"i-') 
means  in  Rabbinic  language,  not  any  ordinary  dwelling,  but  specifi- 
cally the  Temple,^''  and  Beel-Zebul  would  be  the  Master  of  the 
Temple.'  On  the  other  hand,  Zibbul  Cl-i)  means*  sacrificing  to 
idols; "and  hence  Beel-zebid  would,  in  that  sense,  be  equivalent  to 
'  lord  '  or  '  chief  of  idolatrous  sacrificing '  ^ — the  worst  and  chiefest 
of  demons,  who  presided  over,  and  incited  to,  idolatry.  '  The  Lord 
of  the  Temple'  (which  truly  was  His  Church)  was  to  them  'the 
chief  of  idolatrous  worship,'  the  Representative  of  God  that  of  the 
worst  of  demons:  Beelzebul  was  Beelzibbul!  "^  What  then  might  'His 
Household  '  expect  at  their  hands? 

But  they  were  not  to  fear  such  misrepresentations.     In  due  time 


1  So  Ber.  58  b;  Siphra  on  Lev.  xxv. 
2.3 ;  Ber.  R.  49 ;  Shem.  R.  42 ;  Midr.  on 
P8.  xxvii.  4. 

'2  This  is  undoubtedly  tlje  correct 
reading?,  and  not  Beelzebub.  Any  re- 
ference to  the  Baalzebub,  or  '  fly-god  '  of 
2  Kings  i.  2,  seems,  rationally,  out  of  the 
question. 

^  Zebhul  ('I'lD*)  is  also  the  name  of  the 

fourth  of  the  seven  heavens  in  which 
Jewish  mysticism  located  the  heavenly 
Jerusalem  with  its  Temple,  at  whose 
altar  Michael  ministered  (Chag.  12  f>). 


'•  The  primary  meaning  is :  manuring 
(land)  with  dung. 

•''  It  could  not  possibly  mean,  as  has 
been  sujjposed,  'lord  of  dung,'  because 
dung  is  ■'5*  tuid  not  TiZ*- 

'''  This  alone  explains  the  meaning  of 
Beelzebul.  Neither  Beelzebul)  nor  Baal- 
zebul  were  nameft  given  by  the  Jews  to 
any  demon,  but  Beelzebul,  the  '  lord  of 
sacriticiiig  to  idols,'  would  certaiidy  be 
the  desii/nation  of  what  they  regarded 
as  the  chief  of  the  demons. 


(;()D'S   WATCHFUL   PROVIDENCE   (JVEIi    III.S   OWN.  (549 

the  Ijord  would  make  niaiiilcst  both  His  and  their  li'iie  eharacter." '      CHAP. 
Nor  were  they  to  be  deterred  from  aiiuotiueing  in  the  clearest  and      XXVH 

most  public  manner,   in  broad  daylight,  and  from  the  flat  roots  of  ^— ^. 

houses,   that  which    had    been  first    told    them  in  the  darkness,   as   "St.Matt. 

_        '  X.    26 

Jewish  teachers  communicated  the  deepest  ami  highest  doctrines  in 
secret  to  their  disciples,  or  as  the  preacher  would  whisper  his  dis- 
course into  the  ear  of  the  interpreter.  The  deepest  truths  concerning 
His  Person,  and  the  announcement  of  His  Kingdom  and  Work,  were 
to  bo  fully  revealed,  and  loudly  proclaimed.  But,  i'rom  a  much  higher 
point  of  view,  liow  ditferent  was  the  teaching  of  Christ  from  that  of 
the  Rabbis!  The  latter  laid  it  down  as  a  principle,  which  they  tried 
to  prove  from  Scripture, **  that,  in  order  to  save  one's  life,  it  was  "Lev.xvni. 
not  only  lawful,  but  even  dut}- — if  necessary,  to  conunit  any  kind 
of  sin,  except  idolatry,  incest,  or  murder."  Nay,  even  idolatry  was  ■  sanh.  74  a 
allowed,  if  only  it  were  done  in  secret,  so  as  not  to  profane  the  Name  Yomeima 
of  the  Lord — than  which  death  was  infinitely  preferable.''  Christ,  on 
the  other  hand,  not  only  ignored  this  vicious  Jewish  distinction  of 
public  and  private  as  regarded  morality,  but  bade  His  followers  set 
aside  all  regard  for  personal  safety,  even  in  reference  to  the  duty  of 
preaching  the  Gospel.  There  was  a  higher  fear  than  of  men:  that  of 
God — and  it  should  drive  out  the  fear  of  those  who  could  only  kill  the 
body.  Besides,  why  fear?  God's  Providence  extended  even  over 
the  meanest  of  His  creatures.  Two  sparrows  cost  only  an  assarion 
("iD'X),  about  the  third  of  a  penny.*  Yet  even  one  of  them  would 
not  perish  without  the  knowledge  of  God.  No  illustration  was  more 
familiar  to  the  Jewish  mind  than  that  of  His  watchful  care  even 
over  the  sparrows.  The  beautiful  allusion  in  Amos  iii.  5  was 
somewhat  realistically  carried  out  in  a  legend  which  occurs  in  more 
than  one  Rabbinic  passage.  We  are  told  that,  after  that  great 
miracle-worker  of  Jewish  legend,  R.  Simeon  ben  Jochai,  had  been 
for  thirteen  years  in  hiding  from  his  persecutors  in  a  cave,  where  he 
was  miraculously  fed,  he  observed  that,  when  the  bird-catcher  laid 
his  snare,  the  bird  escaped,  or  was  caught,  according  as  a  voice  from 
heaven  proclaimed,  '  Mercy,'  or  else,  '  Destruction.'  Arguing,  that  if 
even  a  sparrow  could  not  be  caught  without  heaven's  bidding,  how 

1  Mark  the  same  meaning  of  the  e.v-  ^The  Isar  ^^Z^it.  ),  or  afisarion,  is  ex- 
pression in  St.  Luke  viii.  17 ;  .xii.  2.  ,  ^,,,^  repoate.llv  staled  in  Kal.I.inic 
.  T  confess  mysef  unable  o  under-  '^^^^^^^  ^o  be  the  twentv-tnurlh  part  of 
stanc  the  beanng  of  the  special  pleaibng  ^^;,^.^^  ^,,,,^  ,^^,„^.p  „^,  ^,  i,air,,..nnv  far- 
of  ^^uuscke  agamst  this_  niference  from  ^  ,,,,j  ^^^^^,,j  ^,^^.  j,,;,.,^  ^_,f  .^  _ 
Sanh.  74  a.  His  reasoning  is  certainly  ^^^^^^^  nerzfdd,  Handelsgeschichle,  pp. 
incorrect.  180-182. 


t)oO 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFKU'KATION. 


!■  Chull.  7  6; 
comp.  also 
.the  even 
more  real- 
istic ex- 
pression, 
Shabb.  107  b 

"Pesiqta 
18  a 


a  St  Matt. 
X.  U 


much    more    sale    wa.s    the   lite  ol'   a  •  sou    of  man"   (n  "I"  r^:),   he 
came  forth.'' 

Nor  couhl  even  the  additional  j^romise  of  Christ:  '  But  of  you 
even  the  hairs  of  the  head  are  all  numbered,"'  surprise  His  disciples. 
But  it  would  convey  to  them  the  gladsome  assurance  that,  in  doing 
His  Work,  they  were  ])erforming  the  Will  of  God,  and  were  specially 
in  His  keeping.  And  it  would  carry  home  to  them — with  the  comfort 
of  a  very  ditfereut  application,  while  engaged  in  doing  the  Work  and 
Will  of  God — what  Rabbinisin  expressed  in  a  realistic  manner  by 
the  common  sayings,  that  whither  a  man  was  to  go,  thither  his 
feet  would  carry  him;  and,  that  a  man  could  not  injure  his  linger 
on  earth,  unless  it  had  been  so  decreed  of  him  in  heaven.''  And  in 
later  Rabbinic  writings  "we  read,  in  almost  the  words  of  Christ: 
'Do  I  not  number  all  the  hairs  of  eveiy  creature'?'  And  yet  an 
even  higher  outlook  was  opened  to  the  disciples.  All  preaching  was 
confessing,  and  all  confessing  a  preaching  of  Christ;  and  our  con- 
fession or  denial  would,  almost  by  a  law  of  nature,  meet  with  similar 
confession  or  denial  on  the  part  of  Christ  before  His  Father  in 
heaven.^  This,  also,  was  an  application  of  that  fundamental  prin- 
ciple, that  'nothing  is  covered  that  shall  not  be  revealed,'  which, 
indeed,  extendeth  to  the  inmost  secrets  of  heart  and  life. 

What  follows  in  our  Lord's  Discourse"  still  further  widens  the 
horizon.  It  describes  the  condition  and  laws  of  His  Kingdom,  until 
the  final  revelation  of  that  which  is  now  covered  and  hidden.  So 
long  as  His  claims  were  set  before  a  hostile  world  they  could  only 
provoke  war.^  On  the  other  hand,  so  long  as  such  decision  was 
necessary,  in  the  choice  of  either  those  nearest  and  dearest,  of  ease, 
nay,  of  life  itself,  or  else  of  Christ,  there  could  be  no  compromise. 
Not  that,  as  is  sometimes  erroneously  supposed,  a  very  great  degree 
of  love  to  the  dearest  on  earth  amounts  to  loving  them  more  than 
Christ.  No  degree  of  proper  affection  can  ever  make  affection 
wrongful,  even  as  no  diminution  of  it  could  make  wrongful  affection 
right.  The  love  ^\  hich  Christ  condemneth  differs  not  in  degree,  but 
in  kind,  from  rightful  affection.  \t  is  one  which  takes  the  place  of 
love  to  Christ — not  which  is  placed  by  the  side  of  that  of  Christ. 
For,  rightly  viewed,  the  two  occupy  different  provinces.  Wherever 
and  whenever  the  two  affections  come  into  comparison,  they  also 


^  This  is  the  literal  rendering!:. 

2  This  ajiijears  more  cleai-ly  when  we 
translate  literally  (ver.  32):  -Who  shall 
confess  in  Me' — and  again:  'in  him  will 
I  also  confess.' 


"  The  original  is  very  peculiar:  '  Think 
not  that  I  came  to  cast  peace  on  the 
earth,'  as  a  sower  casts  the  seed  into 
the  groimd. 


THE   TAKING    UP   OF   THE   CROSS. 


651 


come  into  collision.  And  so  the  (juestions  of*  not  being  worthy  of 
Him  (and  who  can  be  positively  worthyy),  and  of  the  trne  linding  or 
losing  of  our  life,  have  their  bearing  on  our  daily  life  and  profession.* 

But  even  in  this  respect  the  disciples  must,  to  some  extent,  have 
been  prepared  to  receive  the  teaching  of  Christ.  It  was  generally 
expected,  that  a  time  of  great  tribulation  would  precede  the  Advent 
of  the  Messiah.  Again,  it  was  a  Rabbiuic  axiom,  that  the  cause  of 
the  Teacher,  to  whom  a  man  owed  eternal  life,  was  to  be  taken  in 
hand  before  that  of  his  father,  to  whom  he  owed  only  the  life  of  this 
world."''  Even  the  statement  about  taking  up  the  cross  in  following 
Christ,  although  prophetic,  could  not  sound  quite  strange.  Cruci- 
fixion was,  indeed,  not  a  Jewish  punishment,  but  the  Jews  must  have 
become  sadly  familiar  with  it.  The  Targum ''  speaks  of  it  as  one  of 
the  four  modes  of  execution  which  Naomi  described  to  Ruth  as  those 
in  custom  in  Palestine,  the  other  three  being — stoning,  burning,  and 
beheading.  Indeed,  the  expression  '  bearing  the  cross,'  as  indicative 
of  sorrow  and  suffering,  is  so  common,  Ihat  we  read,  Abraham 
carried  the  wood  for  the  sacrifice  of  Isaac,  '  like  one  who  bears  his 
cross  on  his  shoulder. '  '' 

Nor  could  the  disciples  be  in  doubt  as  to  the  meaning  of  the  last 
part  of  Christ's  address.'^  They  were  old  Jewish  forms  of  thought, 
only  filled  with  the  new  wine  of  the  Gospel.  The  Rabbis  taught, 
only  in  extravagant  terms,  the  merit  attaching  to  the  reception  and 
entertainment  of  sages."  The  very  expression  '  in  tiie  name  of  a 
prophet,  or  a  righteous  man,  is  strictly  Jewish  (crb),  and  means  for 
the  sake  of,  or  Avith  intention,  in  regard  to.  It  appears  to  us,  that 
Christ  introduced  His  own  distinctive  teaching  by  the  admitted 
Jewish  principle,  that  hospitable  reception  for  the  sake  of,  or  with 
the  intention  of  doing  it  to,  a  prophet  or  a  righteous  man,  would 
procure  a  share  in  the  prophefs  or  righteous  man's  reward.  Thus, 
tradition  had  it,  that  the  Obadiah  of  King  Ahab's  court  ^  had  become 
the  prophet  of  that  name,  because  he  had  provided  for  the  hundred 
prophets.*^  And  we  are  repeatedly  assured,  that  to  receive  a  sage, or 
even  an  elder,  was  like  receiving  the  Shekhinah  itself.  But  the 
concluding  promise  of  Christ,  concerning  the  reward  of  even  'a  cup 
of  cold  water '  to  '  one  of  these  little  ones  '  '  in  the  name  of  a  disciple,' 


CHAP. 
XXVH 


»  B.  Mets, 
33  o 


^  On  Ruth 
i.  17 


<=  Ber.  R.  56, 
on  Gen. 
xxii.  6 

"i  St.  Matt. 
X.  40-42 


<■  Com  p.  tor 
example 
the  long 
discussion 
in  Ber.  63  6 


<■  1  Kings 
xviii.  i 


e  Sanh.  39  b 


1  The  meaning  of  the  expression, 
losing  and  finding  one's  life,  appears 
more  markedly  by  attending  to  the 
tenses  in  the  text:  'He  that  found  his 
life  shall  lose  it,  and  he  that  lost  his  life 


for  My  sake  shall  find  it.' 

-  Es])ecially  if  he  taught  him  the 
highest  of  all  lore,  the  Talmud,  or  ex- 
plained the  reason  or  the  meaning  of 
what  it  contained. 


652  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      goes  far  hovoiid  the  rartliestconceptions  of  His  contemporaries.     Yet, 
ni        even  so,  the  expression  would,  so  far  as  its  form  is  concerned,  perhaps 

^^ — -  —  bear  a  iiiUer  meaning  to  them  than  to  us.  These  '  little  ones  '  (C*-^P) 
were  '  the  children,'  who  Avere  still  learning  the  elements  of  knowledge, 
and  who  would  by-and-by  grow  into  *  disciples.'  For,  as  the  Midrash 
has  it:  'Where  there  are  no  little  ones,  there  are  no  disciples;  and 
where  no  disciples,  no  sages:  where  no  sages,  there  no  elders;  where 

•  Accordinf;  uo  cldcrs,  tlicrc  no  prophets;   and  where  no  prophets,  there''  does 

ifi    '  God  not  cause  His  Shekhinah  to  rest.' " 

onGerf'*''        ^^ '^  have  bccu  so  particular  in  marking  the  Jewish  parallelisms 

^^''-  ^  in  this  Discourse,  first,  because  it  seemed  important  to  show,  that  the 

words  of  the  Lord  were  not  beyond  the  comprehension  of  the 
disciples.  Starting  from  forms  of  thought  and  expressions  with 
which  they  were  familiar.  He  carried  them  far  beyond  Jewish  ideas 
and  hopes.  15ut,  secondly,  it  is  just  in  this  similarity  of  form,  which 
proves  that  it  was  of  the  time  and  to  the  time,  as  well  as  to  us  and 
to  all  times,  that  we  best'  see,  how  far  the  teaching  of  Christ  tran- 
scended all  contemporary  conception. 

But  the  reality,  the  genuineness,  the  depth  and  fervour  of  self- 
surrender,  which  Christ  expects,  is  met  by  equal  fulness  of  acknow- 
ledgment on  His  part,  alike  in  heaven  and  on  earth.  In  fact,  there 
is  absolute  identification  with  His  ambassadors  on  the  part  of  Christ. 
As  He  is  the  Ambassador  of  the  Father,  so  are  they  His,  and  as 
such  also  the  ambassadors  of  the  Father.  To  receive  them  was,  there- 
fore, not  only  to  receive  Christ,  but  the  Father,  Who  would  own  the 
■  humblest,  even  the  meanest  service  of  love  to  one  of  the  learners, 
'the  little  ones.'  All  the  more  painful  is  the  contrast  of  Jewish 
pride  and  self-righteousness,  which  attributes  supreme  merit  to 
ministering,  not  as  to  God,  but  as  to  man;  not  for  God's  sake,  but 
for  that  of  the  man;  a  pride  which  could  give  utterance  to  such 
a  saying,  '  All  the  prophets  have  announced  salvation  only  to  the 
like  of  those  who  give  their  daughters  in  marriage  to  sages,  or  cause 
them  to  make  gain,  or  give  of  their  goods  to  them.     But  what  the 

esanh. 99a  bliss  of  the  sagcs  themselves  is,  no  mortal  eye  has  seen.'" 

It  was  not  with  such  sayings  that  Christ  sent  forth  His  disciples; 
nor  in  such  spirit,  that  the  world  has  been  subdued  to  Him.  The 
relinquishing  of  all  that  is  nearest  and  dearest,  cross-bearing,  loss  of 
life  itself — such  were  the  terms  ofHisdiscipleship.  Yet  acknowledg- 
ment there  would  surely  be,  first,  in  the  felt  and  assured  sense  of 
His  Presence;  then,  in  the  reward  of  a  propliet,  a  righteous  man,  or, 


'A   err   OF   COLD   WATER'   T(J    'A   LITTLE   ONE.'  (553 

it  might  be.  a  disciple.      But  ail  was  to  ])eiii  Him,  and  lor  Him,  even     CHAP. 
the  gift  of  '  a  cup  of  cold  Avater  '  to  •  a  little  one.'     Nay,  neiiiier  tlie     XXVII 

'little  ones,'  the  learners,  nor  the    cup  of  cold  water  given  them,  ^— v-^— ^ 
would  be  overlooked  or  forgotton. 

But  over  all  did  the  '  Meek  and  Lowlj-  One  '  cast  the  loftiness  of 
His  Humility. 


654 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TR.yS^SFIGURAT10N. 


CHAPTER  XXYIII. 


BOOK 
HI 


"  St.  Matt. 
xi.  1 

')  St.  Mark 
vi.  12,  ly ; 
St.  Luke  ix. 
6 


<:  St.  Matt. 
xiv.  12,  13; 
St.  Mark 
vi.  30 


THE  STORY  OF  JOHN   THE  BxVPTIST,   FROM  HIS   LAST  TESTIMONY  TO   JESUS 
TO  HIS  BEHEADING  IN  PRISON. 

(1.  St.  John  iii.  25-30.  2.  St.  Matt.  ix.  14-17;  St.  Mark  ii.  18-22  ;  St.  Luke  v.  33-39. 
3.  St.  Matt.  xi.  2-U;  St.  Luke  vii.  18-35.  4.  St.  Matt.  xiv.  1-12;  St.  Mark  vi. 
14-29 ;  St.  LulvB  ix.  7-9.) 

While  the  Apostles  went  forth  by  two  and  two  on  their  first  Mission,  ^ 
Jesus  Himself  taught  and  preached  in  the  towns  around  Capernaum.^ 
This  period  of  undisturbed  activity  seems,  however,  to  have  been  of 
])rief  duration.^  That  it  was  eminently  successful,  we  infer  not  only 
from  direct  notices,''  but  also  from  the  circumstance  that,  for  the  first 
time,  the  attention  of  Herod  Antipas  was  now  called  to  the  Person  of 
Jesus.  We  suppose  that,  during  the  nine  or  ten  months  of  Christ's 
Galilean  Ministry,  the  Tetrarcli  had  resided  in  his  Perasan  dominions 
(east  of  the  Jordan),  either  at  JiQias  or  at  Machi^rus,  in  which  latter 
fortress  the  Baptist  was  beheaded.  We  infer,  that  the  labours  of  the 
Apostles  had  also  extended  thus  far,  since  they  attracted  the  notice  of 
Herod.  In  the  popular  excitement  caused  by  the  execution  of  the 
Baptist,  the  miracidous  activity  of  the  messengers  of  the  Christ, 
Whom  John  had  announced,  would  naturally  attract  wider  interest, 
while  Antipas  would,  under  the  influence  of  fear  and  superstition,  give 
greater  heed  to  them.  We  can  scarcely  be  mistaken  in  supposing, 
that  this  accounts  for  the  abrupt  termination  of  the  labours  of  the 
Apostles,  and  their  return  to  Jesus.  At  any  rate,  the  arrival  of  the 
disciples  of  John,  with  tidings  of  their  master's  death,  and  the  return 
of  the  Apostles,  seem  to  have  been  contemporaneous.''  Finally,  we 
conjecture,  that  it  was  among  the  motives  which  influenced  the  re- 
moval of  Christ  and  His  Apostles  from  Capernaum.  Temporarily  to 
withdraw   Himself  and  His  disciples   from   Herod,  to  give  them  a 


1  This  is  the  only  occasion  on  which 
thev  are  desii^natecl  as  Apostles  in  the 
Gospel  by  St.  Mark. 

■^  Their  mission  seems  to  have  been 
short,  probably  not  more  than  two  weeks 


or  so.  But  it  seems  impossible,  in  con- 
sistency with  the  facts,  to  confine  it  to 
two  clays,  as  Bishop  EUicott  projioses 
(Hist.  Lect.  p.  193). 


JOHN   AND   THE    HAPTISM   OF   CHRIST'S    DrSCIPLES.  655 

season  of  rest  and  Airtlici'  i)i'epara(ion  alter  the  exciteiiiciit  ol'  the  last     CHAP, 
few  weeks,  and  to  avoid  being  involved  in  the  popular  movements     xxvni 

consequent  on  the  murder  of  the   Baptist — such  we  may  venture  to  ^— ^r ' 

indicate  as  among  the  reasons  of  the  departure  of  Jesus  and  His 
disciples,  tirst  into  the  donunions  of  the  Tetrarch   Philip,  on  the 
eastern  side  of  the  Lake, ^  and  after  that  'into  the  borders  of  Tyre  •■■st. .Toim 
and  Sidon.' "     Thus  the  fate  of  the  Baptist  was,  as  might  have  been  ,, ^^^  j^^^.^ 
expected,  decisive  in  its  influence  on  the  History  of  tlu;  Christ  and  of  ^"-  -* 
His  Kingdom.     But  Ave  have  yet  to  trace  the  incitlents  in  the  life  of 
John,  so  far  as  recorded  in  the  Gospels,  from  the  time  of  His  last  con- 
tact with  Jesus  to  his  execution. 

1.   It  was"  in  the  late  spring,  or  rather  early  summer  of  the  year  'St.  John 

'  .    .  .  .  lii-  '^2  to 

2i    of  our  era,  that  John  was  baptizing  in  ^Enon,  near  to  Salim.   iv.  3 

In  the  neighl)ourhood,  Jesus  and  His  disciples  were  similarly  engaged.^ 

The  Presence  and  activity  of  Jesus  in  Jerusalem  at  the  Passover ''  had  ■'  st.  joim 

.        1      ,       T-,,        .       .  ,  .  .  .         li.  13  to  in. 

determined  the  Pharisaic  party  to  take  active  measures  against  Him  21 
and  His  Forerunner.  John.  As  to  the  first  outcome  of  this  plan  we 
notice  the  discussions  on  the  question  of  'purification,'  and  the 
attempt  to  separate  between  Christ  and  the  Baptist  by  exciting  the 
jealousy  of  the  latter."  But  the  result  was  far  diflcrent.  His  dis-  -^st.  John 
ciples  might  have  been  influenced,  but  John  himself  was  too  true  a 
man,  and  too  deeply  convinced  of  the  reality  of  Christ's  Mission,  to 
yield  even  for  a  moment  to  such  temptation.  Nothing  more  noble 
can  be  conceived  than  the  self-abnegation  of  the  Baptist  in  circum- 
stances which  would  not  only  have  turned  aside  an  impostor  or  an 
enthusiast,  but  must  have  severely  tried  the  constancy  of  the  truest 
man.  At  the  end  of  a  most  trying  career  of  constant  self-denial  its 
scanty  fruits  seemed,  as  it  were,  snatched  from  Him,  and  the  multi- 
tude, which  he  had  hitherto  swayed,  turned  after  Another,  to  Whom 
himself  had  first  given  testimony,  but  Who  eve'r  since  had  apparently 
neglected  him.  And  now  he  had  seemingly  appropriated  the  one 
distinctive  badge  of  his  preaching!  Not  to  rebel,  nor  to  murmur,  but 
even  to  rejoice  in  this  as  the  right  and  proper  thing,  for  which  he  had 
longed  as  the  end  of  his  own  work — this  implies  a  purity,  simplicity, 
and  grandeur  of  purpose,  and  a  strength  of  convicticm  unsurpassed 
among  men.  The  moral  height  of  this  testimony  of  John,  and  the 
evidential  force  of  the  introduction  of  this  narrative — utterly  unac- 
countable, nay,  unintelligible  on  the  hypothesis  that  it  is  not  true — 
seem  to  us  among  the  strongest  evidences  in  favour  of  the  Gospel- 
history. 

1  Comp.  chapter  vii.  of  tliis  Book.    For      some  ]ioints   formerly  referred  to  have 
the  sake  of  clearness  and  comiection,       had  to  be  here  repeated. 


^  St.  John 
iii.  16  to  -il 


(55(5  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OK   TUAX.SFIGL'KATIOX. 

BOOK  It  was  not  the  greatness  of  the  Christ,  to  liis  own  seeming  loss, 

III  wliieh  couhl  cloud  the  noonday  of  tlie  Baptist's  convictions.  In 
^- — ^^ — '  sinii)Ie  Judivan  illustration,  he  was  only  'the  friend  of  the  Bride- 
groom '  (the  '  Shoshebheyna '),  with  all  that  popular  association  or 
higher  Jewish  allegory  connected  with  that  relationship.^  He  claimed 
not  the  bride.  His  was  another  joy — that  of  hearing  the  Voice  of 
her  rightful  Bridegroom,  Whose  'groomsman  '  he  was.  In  the  sound 
of  that  Voice  lay  the  fulfilment  of  his  office.  And  St.  John,  looking 
back  upon  the  relation  between  the  Baptist  and  Jesus — on  the  re- 
ception of  the  testimony  of  the  former  and  the  unique  position  of  '  the 
Bridegroom  ' — points  out  the  lessons  of  the  answer  of  the  Baptist  to 
his  disciples  (St.  John  iii.  31  to  36  ^)  as  formerly  those  of  the  conversa- 
tion with  Nicodemus.'* 

This  hour  of  the  seeming  abasement  of  the  Baptist  was,  in  truth, 
that  of  the  highest  exaltation,  as  marking  the  fulfilment  of  his  office, 
and,  therefore,  of  his  joy.  Hours  of  cloud  and  darkness  were  to 
follow. 

2.  The  scene  has  clianged,  and  the  Baptist  has  become  the 
prisoner  of  Herod  Antipas.  The  dominions  of  the  latter  embraced, 
in  the  north:  Galilee,  ivest  of  the  Jordan  and  of  the  Lake  of  Galilee; 
and  in  the  south :  Peraea,  east  of  the  Jordan.  To  realise  events  we 
must  bear  in  mind  that,  crossing  the  Lake  eastwards,  we  should  pass 
from  the  possessions  of  Herod  to  those  of  the  Tetrarch  Philip,  or 
else  come  upon  the  territory  of  the  '  Ten  Cities, '  or  Decapolis,  a  kind 
of  confederation  of  townships,  with  constitution  and  liberties,  such  as 
those  of  the  Grecian  cities.^  By  a  narrow  strip  northwards,  Persea 
just  slipped  in  between  the  Decapolis  and  Samaria.  It  is  impossible 
with  certainty  to  localise  the  .Enon,  near  Salim,  where  John  baptized. 
Ancient  tradition  placed  the  latter  a  few  miles  south  of  Scythopolis 
or  Bethshean,  on  the  borders  of  Galilee,  or  rather,  the  Decapolis,  and 
Samaria.  But  as  the  eastern  part  of  Samaria  towards  the  Jordan  was 
very  narrow,  one  may  well  believe  that  the  place  was  close  to,  perhaps 
actually  in,  the  north-eastern  angle  of  the  province  of  Judasa,  where 
it  borders  on  Samaria.  We  are  now  on  the  western  bank  of  Jordan. 
The  other,  or  eastern,  bank  of  the  river  would  be  that  narrow  nortliern 
strip  of  Perasa  which  formed  part  of  the  territory  of  Antipas.  Thus 
a  few  miles,  or  the  mere  crossing  of  the  river,  would  have  brought 

'  Comp.   '  Sketches  of   Jewish    Social  are  no  longer  the  words  of   Clirist  but 

Life.'  pp.  152,  1.53.  those  of  St.  John. 

'^  These  verses  coiitiiin  the  reflections  ^  Comp.   Casiiari,  Chronolog.  Geogr. 

of  the  Evangelist,  not  the  words  of  the  Einl.  pp.  83-91. 
Baptist,  jnst  as  previously  vv.    l(i  to  21 


TIIK    IMPRISONMENT   OF   JOHN. 


657 


tho  Ba[)tist  into  Pcrcea.     Tliei-c  cnu  l)c  no  (loiiht  hut  that  tlic  IJaptist      CHAP. 
must  eitlier  have  crosscMl  into,  or  else   that   J^^non,  near  .Salini,  was     .XWlli 

actually  within  the  dominions  oi"  llerod/     It  was  on  that  occasion  " ^,' — ^ 

that  Herod  seized  on  his  person,"  and  that  Jesus,  Who  was  still  «st. John 
within  Judasau  territory,  withdrew  from  the  intrigues  of  the  Pharisees  "*"  ^^ 
and  the  proximity  of  Herod,  through  Samaria,  into  Galilee."  tst.  John 

For,  although  Galilee  belonged  to  Herod  Antipas,  it  was  suffi- 
ciently far  from  the  present  residence  of  the  Tetrarch  in  Peraea. 
Tiberias,  his  Galilean  residence,  with  its  splendid  royal  palace,  had 
only  been  built  a  year  or  two  before;^  and  it  is  impossible  to  sup- 
pose, that  Herod  would  not  have  sooner  heard  of  the  fame  of  Jesus,''  '  st.  Matt. 

:  '      xiv.  1 

if  his  court  had  been  in  Tiberias,  in  the  immediate  neighbourhood 
of  Capernaum.     We  are,  therefore,  shut  up  to  the  conclusion,  that, 
during  the  nine  or  ten  months  of  Christ's  Ministry  in  Galilee,  the 
Tetrarch  resided  inPergea.     Here  he  had  two  palaces,  one  at  Julias, 
or  Livias,  the  other  at  Macha3rus.     The  latter  will  be  immediately 
described  as  the  place  of  the  Baptist's  imprisonment  and  martyrdom. 
The  Julias,  or  Livias,  of  Persea  must  be  distinguished  from  another 
city  of  that  name  (also  called  Bethsaida)  in  the  North  (east  of  the 
Jordan),  and  within  the  dominions  of  the    Tetrarch   Philip.     The 
Julias  of  Pera3a  represented  the  ancient  Beth  Haram  in  the  tribe  of 
Gad,'^  a  name  for  "which  Josephus  gives  "^  BetharamjjJdha,  and  the  a  Numb. 
Rabbis  Beth  Bamthah.  "     It  still  survives  in  the  modern  Beit-hardn.   josh!xiii!27 
But  of  the  fortress  and  palace  which  Herod  had  built,  and  named  ^^'^^^  ^^"'• 
after  the  Empress,  'all  that  remains'  are  '  a  few^  traces  of  walls  and  fjerus. 
loundations. 

Supposing  Antipas  to  have  been  at  the  Persean  Julias,  he  would 
have  been  in  the  closest  proximity  to  the  scene  of  the  Baptist's  last 
recorde<l  lal^ours  at  ^Enon.  We  can  now  understand,  not  only  how 
John  was  imprisoned  by  Antipas,  but  also  the  threefold  motives 
which  influenced  it.  According  to  Josephus,'' the  Tetrarch  "was  ^Ant.  xviu. 
afraid  that  his  absolute  influence  over  the  people,  who  seemed  dis- 
posed to  carry  out  whatever  he  advised,  might  lead  to  a  rebellion. 
This  circumstance  is  also  indicated  in  the  remark  of  St.  Matthew,"  I'St.  Matt. 
that  Herod  was  afraid  to  put  the  Baptist  to  death  on  account  of  the 
people's  opinion  of  him.  On  the  other  hand,  the  Evangelic  state- 
ment,' that  Herod  had  imprisoned  John  on  account  of  his  declarinsi"  tst.  Matt. 

xiv.  S,  4: 

'  ^non  may  even  have  been  in  Penva  j).  (i:55.  note  1.  17^  ig 

itself — in  that  case,  on  the  eastern  bank  ■'  Comp.    the  references    in    Bbtt>iei\ 

of  the  .Jordan.  Lex.  zu  Jos.  p.  58. 

'■^  Conip.  tSchurer,  Nentest.  Zeitgesch.  *  See    tlie  description    of   the  site  iu 

p.  233.     As  to  the  name  Tiberias,  comp.  Tristi-(nn,  Land  of  Moab,  p.  348. 


658 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


'  Sot.  22  6 


1'  St.  John 
iv.  1,  2 


•^St.  Lube 
xiii.  31-;33 


■'  .\nt.  xviii. 
r>.  2 


liis  marriage  with  Herodias  unlawrul,  i.s  in  no  way  inconsistent  with 
the  reason  assigned  by  Josephus.  Xot  only  might  both  motives  have 
inllucnced  Ilerod,  l)ut  there  is  an  obvious  connection  between  them. 
For,  John's  open  declaration  of  the  unlawfulness  of  Herod's  marriage, 
as  unlike  incestuous  and  adulterous,  might,  in  view  of  the  influence 
which  the  Baptist  exercised,  have  easily  led  to  a  rebellion.  In  our 
view,  the  sacred  text  gives  indication  of  yet  a  third  cause  which 
led  to  John's  imprisonment,  and  which  indeed,  may  have  given  final 
weight  to  the  other  two  grounds  of  enmity  against  him.  It  has  been 
suggested,  that  Herod  must  have  been  attached  to  the  Sadducees, 
if  to  any  religious  party,  because  such  a  man  would  not  have  connected 
himself  with  the  Pharisees.  The  reasoning  is  singularly  inconclu- 
sive. On  political  grounds,  a  Herod  would  scarcely  have  lent  his 
weight  to  the  Sadducean  or  aristocratic  priest-party  in  Jerusalem; 
while,  religiously,  only  too  many  instances  are  on  record  of  what  the 
Talmud  itself  calls  '  painted  ones,  who  are  like  the  Pharisees,  and 
who  act  like  Zimri,  but  expect  the  reward  of  Phinehas. ' ''  Besides, 
the  Pharisees  may  have  used  Antipas  as  their  tool,  and  worked  upon 
his  wretched  superstition  to  effect  their  own  purposes.  And  this 
is  what  we  suppose  to  have  been  the  case.  The  reference  to  the 
Pharisaic  spying  and  to  their  comparisons  between  the  influence  of 
Jesus  and  John,''  which  led  to  the  withdrawal  of  Christ  into 
Galilee,  seems  to  imply  that  the  Pharisees  had  something  to  do  with 
the  imprisonment  of  John.  Their  connection  with  Herod  appears 
even  more  clearly  in  the  attempt  to  induce  Christ's  departure  from 
Galilee,  on  pretext  of  Herod's  machinations.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  the  Lord  unmasked  their  hypocrisy  by  bidding  them  go  back  to 
Herod,  showing  that  He  fully  knew  that  real  danger  threatened  Him, 
not  from  the  Tetrarch,  but  from  the  leaders  of  the  party  in  Jerusalem." 
Our  inference  therefore  is,  that  Pharisaic  intrigue  had  a  very  large 
share  in  giving  effect  to  Herod's  fear  of  the  Baptist  and  of  his  reproofs. 
3.  We  suppose,  then,  that  Herod  Antipas  was  at  Julias,  in 
the  immediate  neigh])ourliood  of  ^Enon,  at  the  time  of  John's 
imprisonment.  But,  according  to  Josephus,  whose  testimony  there 
is  no  reason  to  question,  the  Baptist  was  committed  to  the  strong 
fortress  of  Macha)rus.'^'  If  Julias  lay  where  the  Wady  of  the 
Heshban  debouches  into  the  Jordan,  east  of  that  river,  and  a  little 
north  of  the  Dead  Sea,  Machajrus   is  straight   south  of   it,  about 


^  A  little  before  that  it  seems  to  have 
belonged  to  Aretas.  We  know  not,  how 
it  aijain  passed  into  the  hands  of  Antipas, 
if,  indeed,  it  ever  was  fully  ceded  by  liini 


to  the  Arabs.  Com]).  Schiirer,  u.  s.  p. 
239,  and  Wiefider,  Chron.  Syn.  p.  24-1, 
Beitr.  pp.  5,  &c.,  whose  positions  are, 
however,  not  always  quite  reliable. 


MACH^EUS. 


659 


two   and   a   half  hours  north-west   of  the  ancient  Kiriathaim  (the     CIIAP. 
mudern  KureiyCit),  the  site  of  Clicdorlaonier's  victory."     Machserus     XXViii 

(the  modern  Jrkhaur)  marked  the  extreme  point  south,  as  Pelhi  that  ' — ^r — ^ 

north,  in  Peraea.     As  the  boundary  fortress  in  the  south-east  (towards  "Gen.xiv.s 
Arabia),  its  safety  was  of  the  greatest  importance,  and  everything 
was  done  to  make  a  place,  exceedingly  strong  by  nature,  impregnable. 
It  had  been  built  by  Alexander  Jannseus,  but  destroyed  by  Gabinius 

in   the   wars   of  Pompey."     It   was   not  only  restored,  but  greatly  t-jc^vish 

War  18  5 

enlarged,  by  Herod  tlie  Great,  who  surrounded.it  witli  the  best  de- 
fences known  at  that  time.  In  fact,  Herod  the  Great  built  a  town 
along  the  shoulder  of  the  hill,  and  surrounded  it  by  walls,  fortified 
by  towers.  From  this  town  a  farther  height  had  to  be  climbed,  on 
which  the  castle  stood,  surrounded  by  walls,  and  flanked  by  towers 
one  hundred  and  sixty  cubits  high.  Within  the  inclosure  of  the 
castle  Herod  had  built  a  magnificent  palace.  A  large  number  of 
cisterns,  storehouses,  and  arsenals,  containing  every  weapon  of  attack 
or  defence,  had  been  provided  to  enable  the  garrison  to  stand  a  prolonged 
siege.  Josephus  describes  even  its  natural  position  as  unassailable. 
The  highest  point  of  the  fort  was  on  the  west,  where  it  looked  sheer 
down  into  a  valley.  North  and  south  the  fort  was  equally  cut  ofl'by 
valleys,  which  could  not  be  filled  up  for  siege  purposes.  On  the  east 
there  was,  indeed,  a  valley  one  hundred  cubits  deep,  but  it  terminated 
in  a  mountain  opposite  to  ]!ilacha3rus.  This  was  evidently  the  weak 
point  of  the  situation.^ 

A  late  and  very  trustAvortny  traveller'^  has  pronounced  the  descrip- 
tion of  Josephus''  as  sufficiently  accurate,  although  exaggerated,  and  '^warvii.6. 
as  probably  not  derived  from  personal  observation.  He  has  also  fur- 
nished such  pictorial  details,  that  we  can  transport  ourselves  to  that 
focky  keep  of  the  Baptist,  perhaps  the  more  vividly  that,  as  we 
wander  over  the  vast  field  of  stones,  upturned  foundations,  and 
broken  walls  around,  we  seem  to  view  the  scene  in  the  lurid  sunset 
of  judgment.  '  A  rugged  line  of  upturned  squared  stones  '  shows 
the  old  Roman  paved  road  to  Macha?rus.  Ruins  covering  quite  a 
square  mile,  on  a  group  of  undulating  hills,  mark  the  site  of  the 
ancient  town  of  Macha^rus,  Although  surrounded  by  a  wall  and 
towers,  its  position  is  supposed  not  to  have  been  strategically  de- 
fensible.    Only  a  mass  of  ruins  here,   with  traces  of  a  temple   to 

^  Here  Bassus  made  his  attack  in  the  tiiia.  p.  103:  and,  for  the  vai'ious  i)as- 

last  .Jewish  war  (Jb.s.  War  vii.  6.  1-4).  saijes  in  Josephns  referring  to  Maelufrus, 

-  Canon  Tristram,  Land  of  Moab.  pp.  Bbttger,  u.  s.  pp.  165-l(i7. 
255-265;  conip.  Baedeker  {Socin)  Paliis- 


(5(30  FROM   JORDAN   TO   TIIK   MOT'NT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  the  Syrian  Suii-Ciod,  broken  cisternt^,  and  dosolateness  all  around. 
Ill  Crossinii'  a  narrow  dee})  valley,  about  a  mile  wide,  we  clind)  uj)  to 
^- — -r — '  the  ancient  fortress  on  a  conical  hill.  Altogether  it  covered  a  ridge 
of  more  than  a  mile.  The  key  of  the  position  was  a  citadel  to  the 
extreme  east  of  the  fortress.  It  occupied  the  summit  of  tlie  cone, 
was  isolated,  and  almost  imi)regnal:)le,  but  very  small.  We  shall 
return  to  examine  it.  Meanwhile,  descending  a  steep  slope  about 
150  yards  towards  the  west,  we  reach  the  oblong  flat  i)lateau  that 
formed  the  fortress,  containing  Herod's  magnificent  palace.  Here, 
carefully  collected,  are  piled  up  the  stones  of  which  the  citadel  was 
built.  These  immense  heaps  look  like  a  terrible  monument  of 
judgment. 

We  pass  on  among  the  ruins.  No  traces  of  the  royal  palace  are 
left,  save  foundations  and  enormous  stones  upturned.  Quite  at  the 
end  of  this  long  fortress  in  the  west,  and  looking  southwards,  is  a 
square  fort.  We  return,  through  what  we  regard  as  the  ruins  of  the 
magnificent  castle-palace  of  Herod,  to  the  highest  and  strongest  part 
of  the  defences — the  eastern  keep  or  the  citadel,  on  the  steep  slope 
150  yards  n\).  The  foundations  of  the  walls  all  around,  to  the  height 
of  a  yard  or  two  above  the  ground,  are  still  standing.  As  we  clamber 
over  them  to  examine  the  interior,  we  notice  how  small  this  keep 
is:  exactly  100  yards  in  diameter.  There  are  scarcely  any  remains 
of  it  left.  A  well  of  great  depth,  and  a  deep  cemented  cistern  with 
the  vaulting  of  the  roof  still  complete,  and — of  most  terrible  in- 
terest to  us — two  dungeons,  one  of  them  deep  down,  its  sides 
scarcely  broken  in,  '  with  small  holes  still  visible  in  the  masonry 
where  staples  of  wood  and  iron  had  once  been  fixed  ' !  As  we  look 
down  into  its  hot  darkness,  we  shudder  in  realising  that  this  terrible 
keep  had  for  nigh  ten  months  been  the  prison  of  that  son  of  the  free 
'wilderness,'  the  bold  herald  of  the  coming  Kingdom,  the  humble, 
earnest,  self-denying  John  the  Baptist.  Is  this  the  man  whose 
testimony  about  the  Christ  may  be  treated  as  a  falsehood? 

We  withdraw  our  gaze  from  trying  to  pierce  this  gloom  and  to  call 
up  in  it  the  figure  of  the  camel-hair-clad  and  leather-girt  preacher, 
and  look  over  the  ruins  at  the  scene  around.  We  are  standing  on  a 
height  not  less  than  3,800  feet  above  the  Dead  Sea.  In  a  straight 
line  it  seems  not  more  than  fonr  or  five  miles;  and  the  road  down  to 
it  leads,  as  it  were,  by  a  series  of  ledges  and  steps.  We  can  see  the 
whole  extent  of  this  Sea  of  Judgment,  and  its  western  shores  from 
north  to  south.  We  can  almost  imagine  the  Baptist,  as  he  stands 
surveying  this  nol)le  prospect.     Far  to  the  south  stretches  the  rugged 


WHERE    WAS   THE    CHRIST?     WA8    HH   THE   CHRIST?  GGl 

wildonioss  of  JiuUua,  houiidod  1)y  the  liills  of  Hebron.     Here  nestles     CHAP. 
Bctlileliem,  there  is  Jerusalem.     Or,  turning-  another  way,  and  look-     XXVIII 

ing  into  the  deep  eleft  of  the  Jordan  valley:  this  oasis  of  beauty  is  ' — -^ 

Jericho;  beyond  it,  like  a  silver  thread,  Jordan  Avinds  through  a 
burnt,  desolate-looking  country,  till  it  is  lost  to  view  in  the  haze 
which  lies  upon  the  edge  of  the  Horizon.  As  the  eye  of  the  Baptist 
travelled  over  it,  he  could  follow  all  the  scenes  of  His  life  and  lal)ours, 
from  the  home  of  his  childhood  in  the  hill-country  of  Juda3a,  to  those 
many  years  of  solitude  and  communing  with  God  in  the  wilderness, 
and  then  to  the  first  place  of  his  preaching  and  Baptism,  and  onwards 
to  that  where  he  had  last  spoken  of  the  Christ,  just  before  his  (nvn 
captivity.  And  now  the  deep  dungeon  in  the  citadel  on  the  one 
side,  and,  on  the  other,  down  that  slope,  the  luxurious  palace  of 
Herod  and  his  adulterous,  murderous  wife,  while  the  shouts  of  wild 
revelry  and  drunken  merriment  rise  around!  Was  this  the  King- 
dom he  had  come  to  announce  as  near  at  hand;  for  which  he  had 
longed,  prayed,  toiled,  suffered,  utterly  denied  himself  and  all  that 
made  life  pleasant,  and  tlie  rosy  morning  of  which  he  had  hailed  with 
hymns  of  praise?  Where  was  the  Christ?  Was  He  the  Christ? 
What  Avas  He  doing?  Was  he  eating  and  drinking  all  this  while 
with  publicans  and  sinners,  when  he,  the  Baptist,  was  suffering  for 
Him?  Was  He  in  His  Person  and  Work  so  quite  different  from 
himself?  and  why  was  He  so?  And  did  the  hot  haze  and  mist 
gather  also  over  this  silver  thread  in  the  deep  cleft  of  Israel's  barren 
burnt-up  desolateness? 

4.  In  these  circumstances  we  scarcely  wonder  at  the  feelings  of 
John's  disciples,  as  months  of  this  weary  captivity  passed.  Uncertain 
what  to  expect,  they  seem  to  have  oscillated  between  Machserus  and 
Capernaum.  Any  hope  in  their  Master's  vindication  and  deliver- 
ance lay  in  the  possibilities  involved  in  the  announcement  he  had 
made  of  Jesus  as  the  Christ.  And  it  was  to  Him  that  their  Master's 
finger  had  pointed  them.  Indeed,  some  of  Jesus'  earliest  and  most 
intimate  disciples  had  come  from  their  ranks;  and,  as  themselves 
had  remarked,  the  multitude  had  turned  to  Jesus  even  before  the 
Baptist's  imprisonment.''  And  yet,  could  He  be  the  Christ?  How  «st.  John 
many  things  about  Him  that  were  strange  and  seemed  inexplicable! 
In  their  view,  there  must  have  been  a  terrible  contrast  between  him 
who  lay  in  the  dungeon  of  Machterus,  and  Him  Who  sat  down  to  eat 
and  drink  at  a  feast  of  the  publicans. 

His  reception  of  publicans  and  sinners  they  could  understand; 
their  own  Master  had  not  rejected  them.     But  why  eat  and  drink 


GG2 


FROM   JOKDAX   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Matt, 
ix.  14-17 
and 

parallels 


>■  B.  Mez.  85 
a,  ■-'  towards 
the  end 


"•Taan.  12  a; 
St.  Luke 
xviii.  12 


with  tliein?  Wliy  feasting,  and  this  in  a  time  wlicn  fasting  and 
prayer  wonld  have  seemed  specially  appropriate?  And,  indeed,  was 
not  fasting  always  appropriate?  And  yet  this  new  Messiah  had  not 
taught  his  discii)les  either  to  fast  or  what  to  pray!  The  Pharisees, 
in  their  anxiety  to  separate  between  Jesus  and  Ilis  Forerunner,  must 
have  told  thcni  all  this  again  and  again,  and  pointed  to  the  contrast. 

At  any  rate,  it  was  at  the  instigation  of  the  Pharisees,  and  in 
comi)any  with  them,^  that  the  disciples  of  John  propounded  to  Jesus 
this  question  about  fasting  and  prayer,  immediately  after  the  feast  in 
the  house  of  the  converted  Levi-Matthew.^  We  must  1)ear  in  mind 
that  fasting  and  prayer,  or  else  fasting  and  alms,  or  all  the  three, 
were  always  combined.  Fasting  represented  the  negative,  prayer 
and  alms  the  positive  element,  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  Fasting, 
as  self-punishment  and  mortification,  would  avert  the  anger  of  God 
and  calamities.  Most  extraordinary  instances  of  the  purposes  in 
view  in  fasting,  and  of  the  results  obtained  are  told  in  Jewish 
legend,  which  (as  will  be  remembered)  went  so  far  as  to  relate  how 
a  Jewish  saint  was  therel)y  rendered  proof  against  the  fire  of  Ge- 
lienna,  of  which  a  realistic  demonstration  was  given  when  his  body 
was  rendered  proof  against  ordinary  fire." 

Even  apart  from  such  extravagances,  Rabbinism  gave  an  alto- 
gether external  aspect  to  fasting.  In  this  it  only  developed  to  its 
utmost  consequences  a  theology  against  which  the  Prophets  of  old 
had  already  protested.  Perhaps,  however,  the  Jews  are  not  solitary 
in  their  misconception  and  perversion  of  fasting.  In  their  view,  it 
was  the  readiest  means  of  turning  aside  any  threatening  calamity, 
such  as  drought,  pestilence,  or  national  danger.  This,  ex  opere 
operato:  because  fasting  was  self-punishment  and  mortification,  not 
because  a  fast  meant  mourning  (for  sin,  not  for  its  punishment),  and 
hence  indicated  humiliation,  acknowledgment  of  sin,  and  repent- 
ance. The  second  and  fifth  days  of  the  week  (Monday  and  Tuesday)  ^ 
were  those  appointed  for  public  fasts,  because  Moses  was  supposed 
to  have  gone  up  the  Mount  for  the  second  Tal)les  of  the  Law  on  a 
Thursday,  and  to  have  returned  on  a  ]\[onday.  The  self-introspec- 
tion of  Pharisaism  led  many  to  fast  on  these  two  days  all  the  year 
round,'  just  as  in  Temple-times  not  a  few  would  offer  daily  trcspass- 
ofl'erina:   for  sins  of  which  thev  were  ia-norant.     Then  there  were 


'  Tims  viewerl  there  is  no  contradiction, 
not  even  real  variation,  between  St.  Matt. 
ix.  14,  St.  Mark  ii.  18,  and  St.  Luke  v.  3.3. 

■■*  Altoirether.  Baba  Mez.  S 1  n  to  8.5  a 
contains   a    mixture  of    the    strangest, 


grossest,  and  profanest  absurdities. 

^  Thus  a  three  days'  fast  would  be  on 
the  second,  fifth,  and  again  on  the  sec- 
ond day  of  the  week. 


THE   LA.<T   TH.^TIMOXY   OF   THE    liAl'TIST.  CG3 

such  painful  minutuu  of  cxtci-nalisin,  as  tlio.se  which  ruled  how,  on  a     CHAP. 
less  strict  fast,  a  person  might  wash  and  anoint;  while,  on  the  strict-     XXVHI 

est  fast,  it  was  prohibited  even  to  salute  one  another.^  ^  '■ ■<■ — ' 

It  nuiy  Avell  have  been,  that  it  was  on  one  of  these  weekly  fasts  "Taani. 
that  the  feast  of  Levi-]\Iatthew  had  taken  place,  and  that  this  ex- 
plains the  expression:  'And  John's  disciples  and  the  Pharisees  were 
fasting."^  This  would  give  point  to  their  complaint,  '  Thy  discii)les  "st.  Mark 
fast  not.'  Looking  back  upon  the  standpoint  from  which  they 
viewed  fasting,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  wh}^  Jesus  could  not  have  sanc- 
tioned, not  even  tolerated,  the  practice  among  His  disciples,  as  little 
as  St.  Paul  could  tolerate  among  Judaising  Christians  the,  in  itself 
indifferent,  practice  of  circumcision.  But  it  was  not  so  easy  to  ex- 
plain this  at  the  time  to  the  disciples  of  John.  For,  to  understand 
it,  implied  already  entire  transformation  from  the  old  to  the  new 
spirit.  Still  more  difficult  must  it  have  been  to  do  it  in  such  manner, 
as  at  the  same  time  to  lay  down  principles  that  would  rule  all  similar 
questions  to  all  ages.  But  our  Lord  did  both,  and  even  thus  proved 
His  Divine  Mission. 

.  The  last  recorded  testimony  of  the  Baptist  had  pointed  to  Christ 
as  the  'Bridegroom.'"     As  explained  in  a  previous  chai)ter,  John  ■^f^^g*^^'^ 
applied  this  in  a  manner  which  appealed  to  popular  custom.     As  he 
had  pointed  out,  the  Presence  of  Jesus  marked  the  marriage-week. 
By  universal  consent  and  according  to  Rabbinic  law,  this  was  to  be 
a  time  of  unmixed  festivity.  ^     Even  on  the  Day  of  Atonement  a  a  Ber.  6  & 
lu'ide  was  allowed  to  relax  one  of  the  ordinances  of  that  strictest 
fast."     During  the  marriage-week  all  mourning  was  to  be  suspended  '^Yomayiu. 
— even  the  obligation  of  the  prescribed  daily  prayers  ceased.     It  was 
regarded  as  a  religious  duty  to  gladden  the  bride  and  bridegroom. 
Was  it  not,  then,  inconsistent  on  the  part  of  John's  disciples  to  ex- 
pect '  the  sons  of  the  bride-chamber '  to  fast,  so  long  as  the  Bride- 
groom was  with  them? 

This  appeal  of  Christ  is  still  further  illustrated  l)y  the  Talmudic 
ordinance''  which  absolved  'the  friends  of  the  bridegroom,'  and  all  fjer.suuk. 

"  .53  «,  near 

'the  sons  of  the  bride-chamber,'  even  from  the  duty  of  dwelling  in  the  middle 
booths  (at  the  Feast  of  Tabernacles).     The  expression,  'sons  of  the 
bride-chamber'  (-:*-*::),   which  means  all  invited  guests,   has  the 
more  significance,  when  we  remember  that  the  Covenant-union  be- 
tween God  and  Israel  was  not  only  compared  to  a  marriage,  but  the 

1  Comp.  'The  Temple,  its  Ministry  and  Services,'  pp.  29«-298. 

2  Tliis  is  the  real  import  of  the  origiual. 


664 


FROM    JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


Jnr.  Megill. 
72  d  1 


Tal)oriuu'lo  and  'i'miplc  (l('siiJi,-iiatod  a.s  'the  l)i'i(lal  chanilx'r.s.' "^  And, 
as  the  institution  of  'Iricnids  of  the  bridegroom'  prevailed  in  Judaea, 
but  not  in  GaHloe,  tliis  niai'ked  distinction  of  tlie  'friends  of  the 
l)ridegrooni,' ^  in  tlie  mouth  of  the  Juda3an  John,  and  'sons  of  the 
bride-chamber'  in  that  of  the  Galilean  Jesus,  is  itself  evidential  of 
liistoric  accuracy,  as  well  as  of  the  Judasan  authorship  of  the  Fourth 
Gospel. 

But  let  it  not  be  thought  that  it  was  to  be  a  time  of  unbroken  joy 
to  the  disciples  of  Jesus.  Nay,  the  ideas  of  the  disciples  of  John 
concerning  the  Messianic  Kingdom,  as  one  of  resistless  outward  vic- 
tory and  assertion  of  power,  were  altogether  wrong.  The  Bride- 
groom would  be  violently  taken  from  them,  and  then  would  be  the 
time  for  mourning  and  fasting.  Not  that  this  necessarily  implies 
literal  fasting,  any  more  than  it  excludes  it,  provided  the  great  prin- 
ciples, more  fully  indicated  immediately  afterwards,  are  kept  in  view. 
Painfully  minute,  Judaistic  self-introspection  is  contrary  to  the  spirit 
of  the  joyous  liberty  of  the  children  of  God.  It  is  only  a  sense  of 
sin,  and  the  felt  absence  of  the  Christ,  which  should  lead  to  mourn- 
ing and  fasting,  though  not  in  order  thereby  to  avert  either  the  anger 
of  God  or  outward  calamity.  Besides  the  evidential  force  of  this 
highly  spiritual,  and  thoroughly  un-Jewish  view  of  fasting,  we  notice 
some  other  points  in  confirmation  of  this,  and  of  the  Gospel-history 
generally.  On  the  hypothesis  of  a  Jewish  invention  of  the  Gospel- 
history,  or  of  its  Jewish  embellishment,  the  introduction  of  this 
narrative  would  be  incomprehensible.  Again,  on  the  theory  of  a 
fundamental  difference  in  the  Apostolic  teaching,  St.  Matthew  and 
St.  Mark  representing  the  original  Judaic,  St.  Luke  the  freer  Pauline 
development,  the  existence  of  this  narrative  in  the  first  two  Gospels 
would  seem  unaccountable.  Or,  to  take  another  view — on  tlie 
hypothesis  of  the  much  later  and  noh-Judsean  (Ephesian)  authorship 
of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  the  minute  archaeological  touches,  and  the 
general  fitting  of  the  words  of  the  Baptist "  into  the  present  narra- 
tive would  be  inexplicable.  Lastly,  as  against  all  deniers  and 
detractors  of  the  Divine  Mission  of  Jesus,  this  early  anticipation  of 
His  violent  removal  by  death,' and  of  the  consequent  mourning  of  the 
Church,  proves  that  it  came  not  to  Him  from  without,  as  by  the  ac- 
cident of  events,  but  that  from  the  beginning  He  anticipated  the 
end,  and  pursued  it  of  set,  steadfast  purpose. 

'  '  All  the  hrifle-chambers  were  only 
within  the  portions  of  Benjamin '  (the 
Tahcniiicle  and  the  Temple).  Hence 
Benjamin   was  callcil    'tlie  host  of   the 


Lord.' 

'  Strangely,  the  two  designations  are 
treated  as  identical  in  most  Commen- 
taries. 


THE   NEW  WINE   IN  THE    OLD    BOTTLES.  (365 

Yet  anotlior  point  in  evidence  comes  to  u.s  from  the  eternal  and  CIIAP. 

un-Jewish  principles   implied    in    the    tAvo    illustrations,    of  Avliidi  XXMil 

Christ  here  made  use."     In  truth,  the  LonTs  teaching  is  now  carried  ^^^^^ 

down  to  its  ultimate  princiijles.     The  slight  variations  which  here  °st  Matt. 

.  IX.  16,  17 

occur  in  the  Gospel  of  St.  Luke,  as,  indeed,  such  exist  in  so  many  of 
the  narratives  of  the  same  events  by  different  Evangelists,  should 
not  be  'explained  away.'  For,  the  sound  critic  should  never  devise 
an  explanation  for  the  sake  of  a  supposed  difficulty,  but  truthfully 
study  the  text — as  an  interpreter,  not  an  apologist.  Such  varia- 
tions of  detail  present  no  difficulty.  As  against  a  merely  mechanical, 
unspiritual  accord,  they  afford  evidence  of  truthful,  independent 
witness,  and  irrefragable  proof  that,  contrary  to  modern  negative 
criticism,  the  three  narratives  are  not  merely  different  recensions  of 
one  and  the  same  original  document. 

In  general,  the  two  illustrations  employed — that  of  the  piece  of 
undressed  cloth  (or,  according  to  St.  Luke,  a  piece  torn  from  a  new 
garment)  sewed  upon  the  rent  of  an  old  garment,  and  that  of  the  new 
wine  put  into  the  old  wine-skins — must  not  be  too  closely  pressed  in 
regard  to  their  language.  ^  They  seem  chiefly  to  imply  this :  You  ask, 
why  do  we  fast  often,  but  Thy  disciples  fast  not?  You  are  mistaken 
in  supposing  that  the  old  garment  can  be  retained,  and  merely  its 
rents  made  good  by  patching  it  with  a  piece  of  new  cloth.  Not  to 
speak  of  the  incongruity,  the  effect  would  only  be  to  make  the  rent 
ultimately  worse.  The  old  garment  will  not  bear  mending  with  the 
'  undressed  cloth.'  Christ's  was  not  merely  a  reformation:  all  things 
must  become  new.  Or,  again,  take  the  other  view  of  it — as  the  old 
garment  cannot  be  patched  from  the  new,  so,  on  the  other  hand,  can 
the  new  wine  of  the  Kingdom  not  be  confined  in  the  old  forms.  It 
would  burst  those  wine-skins.  The  spirit  must,  indeed,  have  its 
corresponding  form  of  expression;  but  that  form  must  be  adapted, 
and  correspond  to  it.  Not  the  old  with  a  little  of  the  new  to  hold  it 
together  where  it  is  rent;  but  the  new,  and  that  not  in  the  old  wine- 
skins, but  in  a  form  corresponding  to  the  substance.  Such  are  the 
two  final  principles  ^— the  one  primarily  addressed  to  the  Pharisees, 
the  other  to  the  disciples  of  John,  by  which  the  illustrative  teaching 
concerning  the  marriage-feast,  Avith  its  bridal  garment  and  wine  of 
banquet,  is  carried  far  beyond  the  original  question  of  the  disciples 
of  John,  and  receives  an  a))plication  to  all  time. 

1  Godet  has  shown  objections  a.£>:ainst  of  the  writer,  or  may  be  (thou,<j;h  very 
all  previous  interiiretations.  But  his  own  doubtfully)  an  interpolation.  There  is 
view  seems  to  me  equally  untenable.  a  curious  parallel   to  the  verse  in  Ab. 

2  St.  Luke  V.  39  seems  either  a  gloss  iv.  20. 


666 


FIJOM   .lOlJDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRAN.'^Fira'RATIOX. 


b  St.  Mark 
vi.  20 


5.  We  are  in  spirit  bj-  the  mount  of  (Jod,  and  about  to  witness 
the  breaking  of  a  terrible  storm.''  It  is  one  tliat  uproots  the  great 
trees  and  rends  tlie  rocks;  and  we  shall  watch  it  solemnly,  earnestly, 
as  with  bared  head — or,  like  Elijah,  Avith  face  A\Tapt  in  mantle. 
AVeeks  had  passed,  and  the  disciples  of  John  had  come  liack  and 
showed  their  Master  of  all  these  things.  He  still  lay  in  the  dun- 
geon of  Mach^erus;  his  circumstances  unchanged — perhaps,  more 
hopeless  than  before.  For,  Herod  was  in  that  spiritually  most  des- 
perate state:  he  had  heard  the  Baptist,  and  was  much  perplexed. 
And  still  he  heard — but  only  heard — him  gladly. **  ^  It  was  a  case  by 
no  means  singular,  and  of  which  Felix,  often  sending  for  St.  Paul,  at 
whose  preaching  of  righteousness,  temperance,  and  the  judgment  to 
come,  he  had  trembled,  offers  only  one  of  many  parallels.  That,  when 
hearing  him,  Herod  was  'much  perplexed,'  we  can  understand,  since 
he  '  feared  him,  knowing  that  he  was  a  righteous  man  and  holy, "  and 
thus  fearing  'heard  him.'  But  that  being  'much  perplexed,'  he  still 
'heard  him  gladly,'  constituted  the  hopelessness  of  his  case.  But 
was  the  Baptist  right?  Did  it  constitute  part  of  his  Divine  calling 
to  have  not  only  denounced,  but  apparently  directly  confronted 
Herod  on  his  adulterous  marriage?  Had  he  not  attempted  to  lift 
himself  the  axe  which  seemed  to  have  slipt  from  the  grasp  of  Him, 
of  Whom  the  Baptist  had  hoped  and  said  that  He  would  lay  it  to 
the  root  of  the  tree? 

Such  thoughts  may  have  been  with  him,  as  he  passed  from  his 
dungeon  to  the  audience  of  Herod,  and  from  such  bootless  interviews 
back  to  his  deep  keep.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  it  was,  perhaps, 
better  for  the  Baptist  when  he  was  alone.  Much  as  his  disciples 
honoured  and  loved  him,  and  truly  zealous  and  jealous  for  him  as  they 
were,  it  was  best  when  they  were  absent.  There  are  times  when 
affection  only  pains,  In'  forcing  on  our  notice  inability  to  understand, 
and  adding  to  our  sorrow  that  of  feeling  our  inmost  being  a  stranger 
to  those  nearest,  and  who  love  us  must.  Then,  indeed,  is  a  man 
alone.  It  was  so  with  the  Baptist.  The  state  of  mind  and  expe- 
rience of  his  disciples  has  already  appeared,  even  in  the  slight 
notices  concerning  them.  Indeed,  had  they  fully  understood  him, 
and  not  ended  where  he  began — which,  truly,  is  the  characteristic  of 
all  sects,  in  their  crystallisation,  or.  rather,  ossification  of  truth — they 
would  not  have  remained  his  disciples;  and  this  consciousness  must 
also  have  brought  exquisite  pain.     Their  very  affection  for  him,  and 


^  This  is  l)Otli  tlie  correct  reading  aiul  rendering. 


THE    DAY   OF    DARKNESS   AND   TEUKIIJLE    C^IESTIOMNG.  667 

their  zeal  for  his  ci-cdit  (as  shown  in  the  almost  coarse  language  of     CHAP. 
their   iiuiuiry:  '.John  the  Baptist   hatli    sent  us  unto  Thee,  saying,     XXVHI 
Art  Thou  lie  that  eonieth,  or  look  we  for  another  ?'),  as  well  as  their  ^— -v— -^ 
tenacity  of  unprogressiveness — were  all,  so  to  speak,  marks  of  his 
failure.     And,  if  he  had  failed  with  them,  had  he  succeeded  in  any- 
thing? 

And  yet  fui'tlier  and  more  terrible  questions  rose  in  that  dark 
dungeon.  Like  serpents  that  crept  out  of  its  walls,  they  would  un- 
coil and  raise  their  heads  with  horrible  hissing.  "What  if,  after  all, 
there  had  been  some  terrible  mistake  on  his  part?  At  any  rate  the 
logic  of  events  was  against  him.  He  was  now  the  fast  prisoner 
of  that  Herod,  to  whom  he  had  spoken  with  authority;  in  the  power 
of  that  bold  adulteress,  Herodias.  If  he  were  Elijah,  the  great  Tish- 
bite  had  never  been  in  the  hands  of  Ahab  and  Jezebel.  And  the 
Messiah,  Whose  Elijah  he  was,  moved  not;  could  not,  or  would  not, 
move,  but  feasted  with  publicans  and  sinners!  Was  it  all  a  reality? 
or — oh,  thought  too  hoi'rible  for  utterance — could  it  have  been  a 
dream,  bright  but  fleeting,  uncaused  by  any  reality,  only  the  reflec- 
tion of  his  own  imagination?  It  must  have  been  a  terrible  hour, 
and  the  poAver  of  darkness.  At  the  end  of  one's  life,  and  that  of 
such  self-denial  and  suffering,  and  with  a  conscience  so  alive  to  God, 
which  had — when  a  youth — driven  him  burning  with  holy  zeal  into 
the  wilderness,  to  have  such  a  question  meeting  him  as:  Art  Thou 
He,  or  do  we  wail  for  another?  Am  I  right,  or  in  error  and  leading 
others  into  error?  must  have  been  truly  awful.  Not  Paul,  when 
forsaken  of  all  he  lay  in  the  diingeon,  the  aged  prisoner  of  Christ; 
not  Huss,  when  alone  at  Constance  he  encountered  the  whole  Catholic 
Council  and  the  flames;  only  He,  the  God-Man,  over  Whose  soul 
crept  the  death-coldness  of  great  agony  when,  one  l)y  one,  all  light 
of  God  and  man  seemed  to  fade  out,  and  only  that  one  remained 
burning — His  own  faith  in  the  Father,  could  have  experienced 
bitterness  like  this.  Let  no  one  dare  to  say  that  tlie  faith  of  John 
failed,  at  least  till  the  dark  waters  have  rolled  up  to  his  own  soul. 
For  mostly  all  and  each  of  us  must  pass  through  some  like  ex- 
perience; and  only  our  own  hearts  and  God  know,  how  death-bitter 
are  the  doubts,  whether  of  head  or  of  heart,  when  question  after  ques- 
tion raises,  as  with  devilish  hissing,  its  head,  and  earth  and  heaven 
seem  alike  silent  to  us. 

But  here  we  must  for  a  moment  pause  to  ask  ourselves  this, 
which  touches  the  question  of  all  questions:  Surely,  such  a  umn 
as  this  Baptist,  so  thoroughly  disillusioned  in  that  hour,  could  not 


668  FI'iOM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFKR'RATION. 

BOOK  have  been  an  imi)ustor,  and  his  testimony  to  Chi-ist  a  falsehood? 
in  Nor  yet  coukl  the  reeord,  which  gives  us  this  insight  into  the  weak- 
^— "^Y^^-^  ncss  of  tlie  strong  man  and  the  doubts  of  the  great  Testimony- 
bearer,  be  a  cunningly-invented  fable.  We  cannot  imagine  the 
record  of  such  a  failure,  if  the  narrative  were  an  invention.  And  if 
this  record  be  true,  it  is  not  only  of  present  failure,  but  also  of  the 
previous  testimony  of  John.  To  us,  at  least,  the  evidential  force  of 
this  narrative  seems  irresistible.  The  testimony  of  the  Baptist  to 
Jesus  offers  the  same  kind  of  evidence  as  does  that  of  the  human  soul 
to  God:  in  both  cases  the  one  points  to  the  other,  and  cannot  be 
understood  without  it. 

In  that  terrible  conflict  John  overcame,  as  we  all  must  overcome. 
His  very  despair  opened  the  door  of  hope.  The  helpless  doubt,  which 
none  could  solve  but  One,  he  brought  to  Him  around  Whom  it  had 
gathered. .  Even  in  this  there  is  evidence  for  Christ,  as  the  unalter- 
ably True  One.  AVhen  John  asked  the  question:  Do  we  wait  for 
another?  light  was  already  struggling  through  darkness.  It  was 
incipient  victory  even  in  defeat.  When  he  sent  his  disciples  with 
this  question  straight  to  Christ,  he  had  already  conquered;  for  such 
a  question  addressed  to  a  possibly  false  Messiah  has  no  meaning. 
And  so  must  it  ever  be  with  us.  Doubt  is  the  offspring  of  our 
disease,  diseased  as  is  its  paternity.  And  3"ct  it  cannot  be  cast  aside. 
It  may  be  the  outcome  of  the  worst,  or  the  problems  of  the  best 
souls.  The  twilight  may  fade  into  outer  night,  or  it  may  usher  in 
the  day.  The  answer  lies  in  this:  whether  doubt  will  lead  us  to 
Christ,  or  from  Christ. 

Thus  viewed,  the  question:  ^  Art  Thou  the  Coming  One,  or  do 
we  wait  for  another? '  indicated  faith  both  in  the  great  promise  and 
in  Him  to  Whom  it  was  addressed.  The  designation  '  The  Coming 
One '  {habba),  though  a  most  truthful  expression  of  Jewish  expect- 
ancy, was  not  one  ordinarily  used  of  the  Messiah.  But  it  was  in- 
variably used  in  reference  to  the  Messianic  age,  as  the  Athicl  labho, 
or  coming  future  (literally,  the  prepared  for  to  come),  and  the  Olam 
habba,  the  coming  world  or  ^Eon.^  But  then  it  implied  the  setting 
right  of  all  things  by  the  Messiah,  the  assumption  and  vindication 
of  His  Power.  In  the  mouth  of  John  it  might  therefore  mean  chiefly 
this:  Art  Thou  He  that  is  to  establish  the  Messianic  Kingdom  in  its 
outward  power,  or  have  we  to  wait  for  another?  In  that  case,  the 
manner  in  which  the  Lord  answered  it  would  be  all  the  more  sig- 

'  Tlie  distinction  between  the  two  expressions  will  be  further  explained  in  the 
sequel. 


vii.  21 

b  St.  Matt, 
xi.  5 


CHRIST'S   ANSWER   AND   TESTIMONY   TO   TUK    IJAl'TIST.  669 

uificaiit.     The  messengers  caiiie  ju.<t  as  Pie  was  engaged  in  healing     CH\P 
body   and   soul.^'     Without   interrupting  His   work,    or   otherwise     xxviii 
noticing  their  inquir}',   He  bade  them  tell  John  for  answer  what   — -,- — ' 
they  had  seen  and  heard,  and  that  'the  poor,''  are  evangelised.'     To  »st.Luke 
this,  as  the  inmost  characteristic  of  the  Messianic  Kingdom,  He  only 
added,  not  by  way  of  reproof  nor  even  of  warning,  but  as  a  fresh 
'Beatitude:'   'Blessed  is  he,  whosoever  shall  not  be  scandalised  in 
Me.'     To  faith,  but  only  to  faith,  this  was  the  most  satisfactory  and 
complete  answer  to  John's  inquiry.     And  such  a  sight  of  Christ's 
distinctive  Work  and  Word,  with  believing  submission  to  the  humble- 
ness of  the  Gospel,  is  the  only  true  answer  to  our  questions,  whether 
of  head  or  heart. 

But  a  harder  saying  than  this  did  the  Lord  speak  amidst  the 
forthpouring  of  His  testimony  to  John,  when  his  messengers  had  left. 
It  pointed  the  hearers  beyond  their  present  horizon.  Several  facts 
here  stand  out  prominently.  First,  He  to  Whom  John  had  formerly 
borne  testimony,  now  bore  testimony  to  him;  and  that,  not  in  the 
hour  when  John  had  testified  for  Him,  but  when  his  testimony  had 
wavered  and  almost  failed.  This  is  the  opposite  of  what  one  would 
have  expected,  if  the  narrative  had  been  a  fiction,  while  it  is  exactly 
what  we  might  expect  if  the  narrative  be  true.  Next,  we  mark  that 
the  testimony  of  Christ  is  as  from  a  higher  standpoint.  And  it  is  a 
full  vindication  as  well  as  unstinted  praise,  spoken,  not  as  in  his 
hearing,  but  after  his  messengers — who  had  met  a  seemingly  cold 
reception — had  left.  The  people  WTre  not  coarsely  to  misunderstand 
the  deep  soul-agony,  which  had  issued  in  John's  inquiry.  It  was  not 
the  outcome  of  a  fickleness  which,  like  the  reed  shaken  by  every 
wind,  was  moved  by  popular  opinion.  Nor  was  it  the  result  of  fear 
of  bodily  consequences,  such  as  one  that  pampered  the  flesh  might 
entertain.  Let  them  look  back  to  the  time  when,  in  thousands,  they 
had  gone  into  the  wilderness  to  hear  his  preaching.  What  had 
attracted  them  thither?  Surely  it  was,  that  he  was  the  opposite  of 
one  swayed  by  popular  opinion,  '  a  reed  shaken  by  the  wind. '  And 
when  they  had  come  to  him,  what  had  they  witnessed?-  Surely,  his 
dress  and  food  betokened  the  opposite  of  pampering  or  care  of  the  body, 
such  as  they  saw  in  the  courtiers  of  a  Herod.  But  what  they  did 
expect,  that  they  really  did  see:    a  prophet,  and  much  more  than  a 

1  Negative  criticism  charges  St.  Luke  query  was:  would  they  go  out  'to  gaze 

with  having  inserted  this  trait,  forgetting  ((f  a  reed,    and    'to  see'  one   in  soft 

tliat  it  is  referred  to  by  St.  Matthew.  cUithing. 

■^  The  two  terms  are  different.     The 


670 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT  OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


"  St.  Luke 
vii.  29,  30 

!•  St.  Matt. 
xi.  l'2-ll 


<^  St.  Matt. 
xi.  14^19 


'I  Sanh.  99  a; 
Ber.  34  /; ; 
Shabb.  63  a 


mere  iirophetjtiie  very  Herald  of  God  and  Preparer  of  Messiah's  Way.  ' 
And  yet — and  this  truly  was  a  hard  saying  and  utterly  un-Judaic — 
it  was  neither  self-denial  nor  position,  no,  not  even  that  of  the  New 
Testament  Elijah,  which  constituted  real  greatness,  as  Jesus  viewed  it, 
just  as  nearest  relationship  constituted  not  true  kinship  to  Him.  To 
those  who  sought  the  honour  which  is  not  of  man's  bestowing,  but  of 
God,  to  be  a  little  one  in  the  Kingdom  of  God  was  greater  greatness 
than  even  the  Baptist's. 

But,  even  so,  let  there  be  no  mistake.  As  afterwards  St.  Paul 
argued  with  the  Jews,  that  their  boast  in  the  Law  only  increased 
their  guilt  as  breakers  of  the  Law,  so  here  our  Lord.  The  popular 
concourse  to,  and  esteem  of,  the  Baptist,''^  did  not  imply  that  spiri- 
tual reception  which  was  due  to  his  Mission.''  It  only  brought  out, 
in  more  marked  contrast,  the  wide  inward  difference  between  the  ex- 
pectancy of  the  people  as  a  whole,  and  the  spiritual  reality  presented 
to  them  in  the  Forerunner  of  the  Messiah  and  in  the  Messiah  Him- 
self." Let  them  not  be  deceived  by  the  crowds  that  had  submitted 
to  the  Baptism  of  John.  From  the  time  that  John  began  to  preach 
the  Kingdom,  hindrances  of  every  kind  had  been  raised.  To  over- 
come them  and  enter  the  Kingdom,  it  required,  as  it  were,  violence 
like  that  to  enter  a  city  which  was  surrounded  by  a  hostile  army.'^ 
Even  by  Jewish  admission,*  the  Law  '  and  all  the  prophets  prophesied 
only  of  the  days  of  Messiah.'*  John,  then,  was  the  last  link;  and, 
if  they  would  but  have  received  it,  he  would  have  been  to  them  the 
Elijah,  the  Restorer  of  all  things.  Selah — '  he  that  hath  ears,  let  him 
hear. ' 

Nay,  but  it  was  not  so.  The  children  of  that  generation  expected 
quite  another  Elijah  and  quite  another  Christ,  and  disbelieved  and 
complained,  because  the  real  Elijah  and  Christ  did  not  meet  their 
foolish  thoughts.  They  were  like  children  in  a  market-place,  Avho 
expected  their  fellows  to  adapt  themselves  to  the  tunes  they  played. 
It  was  as  if  they  said:  We  have  expected  great  Messianic  glory  and 
national  exaltation,  and  ye  have  not  responded  ( '  we  have  piped  ^ 
unto  you,  and  ye  have  not  danced  ') ;  we  have  looked  for  deliverance 
from  our  national  sufferings,  and  they  stirred  not  your  sympathies 


1  The  reader  will  mark  the  difference 
between  the  quotation  as  made  by  all  the 
three  Evangelists,  and  our  present  He- 
brew text  and  the  LXX.,  and  possibly 
draw  his  own  inferences. 

^  This  is  a  sort  of  parenthetic  note  l)y 
St.  Luke. 

3  The  common  interpretations  of  this 


verse  have  seemed  to  me  singularly  un- 
satisfactory. 

■*  Comp.  the  Appendix  on  the  Jewish 
Interpretation  of  Prophecy. 

5  The  i)ipe  was  used  both  in  feasts 
and  at  mourning.  So  the  Messianic  hope 
had  lioth  its  joyous  and  its  sorrowful 
aspect. 


LIGHT   IN   DARKNESS.  (}7i 

iior  I )roii,ii"lit  your  lielp  (•  we  liave  mourned   to  you,  and  ye  have  not      chap. 

lamented').     But  you  thought  of  the  Messianic  time  as  childi(  ii.     xxviii 

and  of  us,  as  if  Ave  were  3'our  fellows,  and  shared  your  thouii'lits  and   "— ^r^ — -" 

purposes!     And  so  Avhen  John  came  with  his  stern  asceticism,  you 

felt  he  was  not  one  of  you.     He  was  in  one  direction  outside  your 

boundary-line,  and  I.  as  the  Friend  of  sinners,  in  the  other  direction. 

The  axe  which  he  wiehled  you  would  have  laid  to  the  tree  of  the 

Gentile  world,  not  to  that  of  Israel  and  of  sin;  the  welcome  and 

fellowship  which  I  extended,  you  would  have  had  to  '  the  wise '  and 

'the  righteous,'  not  to  sinners.     Such  was  Israel  as  a  whole.     And 

yet  there  was  an  election  according  to  grace:  the  violent,  who  had 

to  fight  their  way  through  all  this,  and  who  took  the  Kingdom  by 

violence — <ind  so  Heaven's  Wisdom  (in  opposition  to  the  children's 

folly)  is  vindicated^  b}'  all  her  children.-     If  anything  were  needed 

to  show  the  internal  harmony  between  the  Synoptists  and  the  Fourth 

Gospel,  it  would  be  this  final  appeal,  which  recalls  those  other  words: 

'  He  came  unto  His  own  (things  or  property),  and  his  own  (people, 

they  who  were  His  OAvn)  received  Him  not.     But  as  many  as  received 

Him,  to  them  gave  He  power  (right, .  authority)  to  become  children 

of  God,  which  were  born  (begotten,)  not  .   .   .  of  the  will  of  man,  but 

of  God.'"  "^V^C*^'' 

1.  11-13 

6.  The  scene  once  more  changes,  and  we  are  again  at  Macha^rus.'^ 
Weeks  have  passed  since  the  return  of  John's  messengers.  We  can- 
not doubt  that  the  sunlight  of  faith  has  again  fallen  into  the  dark 
dungeon,  nor  yet  that  tlie  peace  of  restful  conviction  has  filled  the 
martyr  of  Christ.  He  must  have  known  that  his  end  was  at  hand, 
and  been  ready  to  be  oflcred  up.  Those  not  nnfrcquent  conversations, 
in  which  the  weak,  superstitious,  wicked  tyrant  was  •  perplexed  '  and 
yet  '  heard  him  gladly,'  could  no  longer  have  inspired  even  passing 
hopes  of  freedom.  Nor  would  he  any  longer  expect  from  the  Messiah  . 
assertions  of  power  on  his  behalf  He  now  understood  tliat  for 
Avhich  He  had  come; '  he  knew  tlic  better  liberty,  triumj)!!,  and 
victory  which  He  brcught.  And  what  mattered  it;  His  life-work 
had  been  done,  and  there  was  nothing  further  that  fell  to  him  or 
that  he  could  do,  and  the  weary  servant  of  the  Lord  must  have 
longed  for  his  rest. 

It  was  early  spring,  shortly  before  the  Passover,  tlie  anniversary 
of  the  death  of  Herod   the  Great  and  of  the   accession  of  (his  son) 

'  Litprally.  justified.     The   expression  •''  As,  according  to  Jbw/)/^^<.s,  John  was 

is  a  Hebiaisni.  executed  at   Mach;prus.  the   scene  must 

-  I  cannot  accept  the  reading  '  works '  have  been  there, and  not  eitlier  at  Til)erias 

ia  St.  Mark.  or  at  Julias. 


672  FROM   JORDAN   TO   Till]   .MOTTNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  TIcrod  Aiili])as  to  llic  Tetrarcliy.'  A  fit  time  this  fora  Belshazzar-feast, 
ni  when  such  an  one  as  Herod  would  gather  to  a  pi'rand  1);  nqiiet  '  his 
^— ^^v — '  lords/  and  the  military  authorities,  and  the  ehief  men  of  Galilee. 
It  is  evening,  and  the  castle-palace  is  lu-illiantly  lit  uj).  The  noise 
of  music  and  the  shouts  of  revelry  come  across  the  slope  into  the 
citadel,  and  fall  into  the  deep  dungeon  where  waits  the  prisoner  of 
Christ.  And  now  the  meri-iuient  in  the  great  l)anqueting-hall  has 
reached  its  utmost  height.  The  king  has  nothing  further  to  oiler 
his  satiated  guests,  no  fresh  excitement.  So  let  it  be  the  sensuous 
stimulus  of  dubious  dances,  and,  to  complete  it,  let  the  dancer  be 
the  fair  young  daughter  of  the  king's  wife,  the  very  descendant  of 
the  Asmongean  priest-princes!  To  viler  depth  of  coarse  familiarity 
even  a  Herod  could  not  have  descended. 

She  has  come,  and  she  has  danced,  this  princely  maiden,  out  of 
whom  all  maidenhood  antl  all  princeliness  have  been  brazed  by  a 
degenerate  mother,  wretched  offspring  of  the  once  noble  Maccabees. 
And  she  has  done  her  best  in  that  wretched  exhibition,  and  pleased 
Herod  and  them  that  sat  at  meat  with  him.  And  now,  amidst  the 
general  plaudits,  she  shall  have  her  reward — and  the  king  swears  it 
to  her  Avith  loud  voice,  that  all  around  hear  it — even  to  the  half  of 
his  kingdom.  The  maiden  steals  out  of  the  l)anquet-hall  to  ask  her 
mother  what  it  shall  be.  Can  there  be  doubt  or  hesitation  in  the 
mind  of  Herodias?  If  there  was  one  object  she  had  at  heart,  which 
these  ten  months  she  had  in  vain  sought  to  attain:  it  was  the  death 
of  John  the  Baptist.  She  remembered  it  all  only  too  well — her  stormy, 
reckless  past.  The  daughter  of  Aristobulus,  the  ill-fated  son  of  the  ill- 
fated  Asmona^an  princess  Mariamme  (I.),  she  had  been  married  to  her 
half-uncle,  Herod  Philip, -the  son  of  Herod  the  Great  and  of  Mariamme 

'  The  expression   yevsaia  leaves  it  calls  him  Herod  and  not  Piiili)),  a  certain 

doiiljtfiil,  wiiether  it  was  the  birthday  of  class  of  critics  have  imijuted  error  to  the 

*  Herod  or   the  aiuiiversary  of  his  acces-  Evangelists  {ScJiii.rer,  u.  s.,  p.  2.'J7).  But 

sion.      Wi'^seJer  maintains  that  the  Ralj-  it  '"^quires  to  be  kept  in  view,  tiiat  in 

binic  equivalent  {Ginusej/n,  or  Giniset/a)  that  case  the  Evangelists  would  be  guilty 

means  the  day  of   accession.  3fe>/er  the  no:   of  one  but  of  two  gross  historical 

birthday.     In  truth  it  is  used  for  both.  errors.     They  would  (1)  have  confounded 

But  in  Abod.  Z.  10  a  (about  the  middle)  this  Herod  with  his  half-brother  Phili)). 

the  Fom  (r«/i;/.s-eyA<  is  expre.ssly  and  elabo-  the    Tetrarch,    and   (2)  made    him    the 

rately  shown  to  be  the  day  of  accession.  husband  of  Herodias,    instead  of  being 

Otherwise  also  the  balance  of  evidence  her  son-in-law.  Philip  tlie  Tetrarch  hav- 

is  in  favour  of    this    view.     The  event  ing  married   Salome.     Two   such  errors 

described  in  the  text  certainly  took  place  are  altogether  iiiconceivaV)le  in  so  well- 

?_yefo/-p  the  Passover,and  this  was  the  time  known  a  hLstorj',  with  which   the  Evan- 

of  Herod's  death  and  of  the  acces.sion  of  gelists  otherwise  sliow  such  familiarity. 

Antipas.     It  is  not  likely,  that  the  Hero-  On   the   other   hand,  there    are  internal 

dians  would  have  celebrated  their  birth-  reasons  for  believing  that  this  Ilei'od  had 

days.  a  second  name.     Among  the  eight  sons 

■^  From  the  circumstance  that  Jo.s-^^v/i«s'  of  Herod  the  Great  there  are  three  who 


THE   END   OF   HEROD   ANTH'AS.  073 

(I!,),  the  (lauuiiU'T  of  the  Iliii-li-Pricst  (Boethos).  At  one  time  it  chap. 
seemed  as  if  llerod  Philip  would  have  l)ecii  sole  heir  of  liis  father's  XXVHI 
dominions.  But  the  old  tyrant  had  changed  his  testament,  and  ^— v'-^-' 
Philip  was  left  Avith  great  wealth,  bnt  as  a  private  person  living  in 
Jerusalem.  This  little  suited  the  woman's  ambition.  It  was  when 
his  half-brother,  Herod  Anti))as,  eame  on  a  visit  to  him  at  Jernsalem, 
that  an  intrigue  began  between  the  Tetrarch  and  his  brother's  wife. 
It  was  agreed  that,  after  the  return  of  Antipas  from  his  impending 
journey  to  Pome,  he  would  repudiate  his  Avife,  the  daughter  of 
Aretas,  king  of  Arabia,  and  wed  Herodias.  But  Aretus'  daughter 
lieard  of  the  plot,  and  having  o])tained  her  husbamfs  consent  to  go 
to  ^Iachan"us,  she  lied  thence  to  her  father.  This,  of  course,  led  to 
enmity  l)etween  Antipas  and  Aretas.  Nevertheless,  the  adulterous 
marriage  with  Herodias  followed.  In  a  few  sentences  the  story  may 
be  carried  to  its  termination.  Tlie  woman  proved  the  curse  and  ruin 
of  Antipas.  First  came  the  murder  of  the  Baptist,  which  sent  a 
thrill  of  horror  through  the  people,  and  to  which  all  the  later 
misfortunes  of  Herod  were  attributed.  Then  followed  a  war  with 
Aretas,  in  which  the  Tetrarch  was  worsted.  And,  last  of  all,  his 
wife's  and)ition  led  him  to  Rome  to  solicit  the  title  of  King,  lately 
given  to  Agrippa,  the  1)rotlier  of  Herodias.  Antipas  not  only  failed, 
but  was  deprived  of  his  dominions,  and  banished  to  Lyons  in  Gaul. 
The  pride  of  the  woman  in  refusing  favours  from  the  p]niperor,  and 
her  faithfulness  to  her  husband  in  his  fallen  fortunes,  are  the  only 
redeeming  points  in  her  history.''  As  for  Salome,  she  was  first  ^•^j-i-V'/'.,. 
married  to  her  uncle,  Pliilii)  the  Tetrarch.  Legend  has  it,  that  her  warii.y.  o 
death  was  retributive,  1)eing  in  consequence  of  a  fall  on  the  ice. 

Such  was  the  woman  who  had  these  many  months  sought  with  the 
vengefulncss  and  determination  of  a  Jezebel,  to  rid  herself  of  the 
hated  person,  Avho  alone  had  dared  publicly  denounce  lier  sin,  and 
whose  words  held  her  weak  husband  in  awe.  The  opportunity  had  now 

bear  his  name  (Herod).  Of  only  one,  named  Philip,  we  answer  (1)  that  he  had 
Herod  Antii)as,  we  know  tiie  second  two  sons  of  the  name  Antipas.  or  Anti- 
name  (Antii)as).  But.  as  for  example  in  pater,  (2)  that  tliey  were  tlie  sons  of 
thecaseoftheBonapartefaiiilly.it  is  most  different  motliers.  and  (3)  tliut  the  full 
uidikely  that  the  other  two  should  have  name  of  the  one  was  Herod  I'hilip  (tirst 
liorue  tlie  name  of  Herod  without  any  husl)and  of  Herodias),  and  of  the  other 
distinctive  second  name.  Hence  we  simply  Philip  the  Tetrarch  (hiisl)aiid  of 
conclude,  that  the  name  Philip,  which  Salome,  and  son-in-law  of  Herodias  and 
occurs  in  the  Gospels  (in  St.  Luke  iii.  1!)  of  Herod  Philip  her  tirst  husband).  Thus 
it  is  spurious),  was  the  second  name  of  for  distinction's  sake  the  one  niiniit  have 
him  whom  Joseplnis  siini)ly  names  as  been  iienerally  called  simply  Herod,  the 
Herod.  If  it  be  oljjecteck  that  in  such  other  Philip, 
case  Herod   would  have  had   two   sous 


XIV.  8 


674  FROM   JOKDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

IJooK  coiiic  lor  ()l)taiiiiiii;'  IVoiii  the  v;icill;itiii,u-  inoiiarcli  what  licr  ciitroaties 
HI  could  never  liavc  secured.  As  the  Gospel  puts  it,"  'instigated'  by 
^— ^i —  hei-  mother,  the  damsel  hesitated  not.  We  can  readih-  till  in  the 
SLMiitt.  outlined  i)icture  ol'  what  followed.  It  only  needed  the  mother's 
whisi)ered  sug\ii;estion,  and  still  Hushed  from  her  dance,  Salome  re- 
entered the  banqueting-hall.  'With  haste,'  as  if  no  time  were  to  be 
lost,  she  went  up  to  the  king:  '  I  would  that  thou  forthwith  give  me 
in  a  charger,  the  head  of  John  the  Baptist! '  Silence  must  have  fallen 
on  the  assembh'.  Even  into  their  hearts  such  a  demand  from  the  lips 
of  little  more  than  a  child  must  have  struck  horror.  They  all  knew 
John  to  be  a  righteous  and  holy  man.  Wicked  as  they  were,  in  their 
superstition,  if  not  religiousness,  few,  if  any  of  them,  would  have  will- 
ingly lent  himself  to  such  work.  And  they  all  knew,  also,  why  Salome, 
or  rather  Herodias,  had  made  this  demand.  "What  Avould  Herod  do? 
'  The  king  was  exceeding  sorry.'  For  months  he  had  striven  against 
this.  His  conscience,  fear  of  the  people,  inward  horror  at  the  deed, 
all  would  have  kei)t  him  from  it.  But  he  had  sworn  to  the  maiden, 
who  now  stood  before  him,  claiming  that  the  pledge  l)e  redeemed, 
and'  every  eye  in  the  assembly  was  now  fixed  upon  him.  Unfaithful  to 
his  God,  to  his  conscience,  to  truth  and  righteousness;  not  ashamed 
of  any  crime  or  sin,  he  would  yet  be  faithful  to  his  half-drunken  oath, 
and  appear  honorable  and  true  before  such  companions! 

It  has  been  but  the  contest  of  a  moment.  'Straightway'  the 
king  gives  the  order  to  one  of  the  l)ody -guard.'  The  maiden  hath 
withdrawn  to  await  the  result  with  her  mother.  The  guardsman  has 
left  the  ban(pieting-hall.  Out  into  the  cold  sjiring  night,  up  that 
slope,  and  into  the  deep  dungeon.  As  its  door  opens,  the  noise  of 
the  revelry  comes  with  the  light  of  the  torch  which  the  man  bears. 
No  time  for  preparation  is  given,  nor  needed.  A  few  minutes  more, 
and  the  gory  head  of  the  Baptist  is  brought  to  the  nmiden  in  a 
charger,  and  slie  gives  the  ghastly  dish  to  her  mother. 

It  is  all  over!  As  the  pale  morning  light  streams  into  the  keep, 
the  faithful  disciples,  who  had  been  told'  of  it,  come  rcA^erently  to 
l)ear  the  headless  body  to  the  burying.  Tliey  go  forth  for  ever  from 
that  accursed  place,  which  is  so  soon  to  become  a  mass  of  shapeless 
ruins.  They  go  to  tell  it  to  Jesus,  and  henceforth  to  remain  with 
Him.     We  can  imagine  what  welcome  awaited  them.     But  the  people 

'  A  (TTtEKovXaroofj,  speculator,  ono  occurs  in  RabbiuicHebrew  as  ^'e/^/^r/^y^/z/or 

of  a  Ijody-suard  whicb  had  come  into  uso.  .  -«,Vj"-^prc\    or  Isphaqlator  (-Vj"-'r?CN) 

who  attended  the  Cgesars.  executed  tlieir  v      ^  i.    .  y  v       ti.    .    /; 

behests  and  often  their  sudden  sentences  »»'!  is  applied  to  one  who  carries  out  the 

of  death  (from  speculor).  Tlie  same  word  ^onteuce  of  execution  (Shabb.  108  a). 


HEROD   AND   THE   CHKLST.  §75 

over  artci-wanls  cursed  tlie  tyrant,  and  looked  i'or  tlio.se  judiiinent.s  of     CHAP. 

God  to  follow,  AvhicliAvere  so  soon  to  descend  on  him.     And  he  himself    XXVHI 

was  ever  afterwards  restless,  wretched,  and  full  of  apprehensions.    ^— -r™*-' 

He  could  scarcely  believe  that  the  Baptist  was  really  dead,  and  when 

the  fame  of  Jesus  reached  him,  and  those  around  su<i-gested  that  this 

was  Elijah,  a  prophet,  or  as  one  of  them,  Herod's  mind,  amidst  its 

strange  perplexities,  still  reverted  to  the  man  whom  he  had  murdered. 

It  was  a  new  anxiety,  perhaps,  even  so,  a  new  hope;  and  as  formerly 

he  had  often  and  gladly  heard  the  Baptist,  so  now  he  would  fain 

have  seen  Jesus.''     He  would  see  Him;  but  not  now.     In  that  dark  "St.  Luke 

niglit  of  l)etrayal,  he,  who  at  the  bidding  of  the  child  of  an  adulteress, 

had  murdered  the  Forerunner,   might,   with  the  approbation  of  a 

Pilate,   have  rescued    Him    whose  faithful  witness  John  had  been. 

But  night  was  to  merge  into  yet  darker  night.     For  it  was  the  time 

and  the  power  of  the  Evil  One.     And  yet:  Jehovah  reigneth.' 


y 


676 


FROM    J  UK  DAN    TU   THE   MOUNT   OF   TUANSFIGUltATlON, 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


THE    MIRACULOUS    FEEDING    OF    THE    FIVE    THOUSAND. 


BOOK 
III 


^  Jos.  War 
iii. 3.  5 


t-  Jos.  Ant. 
xviil.  2. 1 


f  St.  John 
xii.  21 : 
coin  p.  1.  44; 
St.  Mark 
vi.  45 


(St.  Matt.  xiv.  13-21;  St.  Mark  vi.  30-44;  St.  Luke  ix.  10-17;  St.  Johu  vi.  1-14.) 

In  tlie  circumstances  described  in  tlie  previous  chapter,  Jesus  resolved 
at  once  to  leave  Capernaum;  and  this  probably  alike  for  the  sake  of 
His  disciples,  who  needed  rest;  for  that  of  the  people,  who  might 
have  attempted  a  rising  after  the  murder  of  the  Bai)tist;  and  tem- 
porarily to  withdraw  Himself  and  His  followers  from  the  power  of 
Herod.  For  this  purpose  He  chose  the  place  outside  the  dominions 
of  Antipas,  nearest  to  Capernaum.  This  was  Beth-Saida  ('  the  house 
of  Ashing,'  '  Fisher-towft,'  ^  as  we  might  call  it),  on  the  eastern  border 
of  Galilee,"  just  within  the  territory  of  the  Tetrarch  Philip.  Origi- 
nally a  small  village,  Philip  had  converted  it  into  a  town,  and 
namc(l  it  Julias,  after  Caesar's  daughter.  It  lay  on  the  eastern  bank 
of  Jordan,  just  before  that  stream  enters  the  Lake  of  Galilee.*" 
It  must,  however,  not  be  confounded  with  the  other  '  Fisher-town, ' 
or  Bethsaida,  on  the  western  shore  of  the  Lake.^  which  the  Fourth 
Gospel,  evidencing  by  this  local  knowledge  its  Judaean,  or  rather 
Galilean,  authorship,  distinguishes  from  the  eastern  as  Bethsaida 
of  Galilee.  "^^ 

Other  minute  points  of  deep  interest  in  the  same  direction  will 
present  themselves  in  the  course  of  this  narrative.  Meantime  we 
note,  that  this  is  the  only  history,  previous  to  Christ's  last  visit  to 
Jerusalem,  Avhich  is  recorded  by  all  the  four  Evangelists;  the  only 


'  The  common  reading,  '  House  of 
fishes,^  is  certainly  inaccurate.  Its  Ara- 
maic equivalent  would  be  probably 
N~*'^     .T.3.        Tseida    means     literally 

hunting  as  well  as  fishing,  having  .special 
reference  to  catching  in  a  snare  or  net. 
Possibly,  bat  not  so  likely,  it  may  have 
been  N'^^a  '2  {Tsnijijadfi),  house   of  a 

snarer-huntsnian,  here  li.-;her.     It  will  Ije 


noticed,  that  we  retain  the  textus  recep- 
tiis  of  St.  Luke  ix.  10. 

■-'  I  do  nof  quite  understand  the  rea- 
soninir  of  Captain  Conder  on  this  point 
(Handl*.  of  the  Bible,  pp.  321,  itc),  but 
I  cannot  agree  with  his  conclusions. 

•'  On  the  whole  question  comp.  the 
Encyclopfcdias,  Caspari  u.  s.  pp.  81,  83; 
Bnt'deker  (Soctn).  p.  267;  Tristram, 
Laud  of  Israel,  p.  443  »tc. 


THE    FEEDING   OF   THE   FIVE   THOUSAND.  O77 

scries  of  events  also  in  tin'  whole  course  of  that  Galilean  Ministry,      CHAP. 
whicli  commenced  alter  Ills  return  Irom  the  '  Unknown  Feast,'"  whicii      XXIX 
is  rct'erred  to  in  the  Fourth  Gospel; '  and  that  it  contains  two  distinct  ^ — ^.^ — -^ 
notices  as  to  time,  which  enable  us  to  lit  it  exactly  into  the  frame-  '  st.ji.iinv. 
work  of  this  history.     For,  the  statement  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,''  that  'st.  joim 
the  '  Passover  was  nigh, '  ^  is  confirmed  by  the  independent  notice  of 
St.  Mark, "^  that  those  whom  the  Lord  miraculously  led  were  ranged  ^  st.  Mark 
*  on  the  green  grass.'     In  that  climate  there  would  have  been  no 
'■  green  grass  '  soon  after  the  Passover.     We  must  look  upon  the  coin- 
cidence of  these  two  notices  as  one  of  the  undesigned  contirmations  of 
this  narrative. 

For,  miraculous  it  certainly  is,  and  the  attempts  rationalistically 
to  explain  it,  to  sublimate  it  into  a  parable,  to  give  it  the  spiritual- 
istic meaning  of  spiritual  feeding,  or  to  account  for  its  mythical 
origin  by  the  precedent  of  the  descent  of  the  manna,  or  of  the 
miracle  of  Elisha,^  are  even  more  palpable  failures  than  those  made  to 
account  for  the  miracle  at  Cana.  The  only  alternative  is  to  accept — 
or  entirely  to  reject  it.  In  view  of  the  exceptional  record  of  this 
history  in  all  the  four  Gospels,  no  unbiassed  historical  student  would 
treat  it  as  a  simple  invention,  for  which  there  was  no  ground  in 
reality.  Nor  can  its  origin  be  accounted  for  by  previous  Jewish  ex- 
pectancy, or  Old  Testament  precedent.  The  only  rational  mode  of  ex- 
plaining it  is  on  the  supposition  of  its  truth.  This  miracle,  and  what 
follows,  mark  the  climax  in  our  Lord's  doing,  as  the  healing  of  the 
Syro-Phoenician  maiden  the  utmost  sweep  of  His  activity,  and  the 
Transfiguration  the  highest  point  in  regard  to  the  miraculous  about 
His  Person.  The  only  reason  which  can  be  assigned  for  the  miracle 
of  His  feeding  the  five  thousand  was  that  of  all  His  working:  Man's 
need,  and,  in  view  of  it,  the  stirring  of  the  Pity  and  Power  that  were 
in  Him.  But  even  so,  we  cannot  fail  to  mark  the  contrast  between 
King  Herod,  and  the  banquet  that  ended  with  the  murder  of  the 
Baptist,  and  King  Jesus,  and  the  banquet  that  ended  with  His  lonely 
prayer  on  the  mountain-side,  the  calming  of  the  storm  on  the  Lake, 
and  the  deliverance  from  death  of  His  disciples. 

'  Professor  )f>.sVro// notes,  that  tbeac-         ^  Even  those  who  hold  such  views  as- 

eouiit  of  St.    .John   could   neither  have  sert  them  in  this  instance  hesitatingly.  It 

been  derived  from  those  of  the  Synoptists,  seems  almost  impossible  to  conceive,  that 

nor   from   any   common    original,    from  a  narrative  recorded  in  all  the  four  Gos- 

whicii  their  narratives  are  by  some  sup-  pels  should  not  have  an  historical  basis, 

posed  to  have  been  derived.  and  the  appeal  to  the  precedent  of  Elisha 

-  Tliere  is  no  valid  reason  for  douljtina;  is  the  more  inapt,  that  in  conunon  Jewish 

the  a;(Muuneness  of  these  words,  or  giv-  thinking  he  was  woM'egarded  as  specially 

ing  them  another  meaning  tlian  in  the  the  type  of  the  Messiah, 
text.     Comp.  Weatcott,  ad.  loc. 


61S 


FROM    .J()IM)AN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRAN.^FKJrHATlON. 


HOOK 
III 


»  St.  Mark 
vl.  33 


b  St.  Mark 
V.  1-16 


Only  a  IV'W  lioiirs'  sail  IVoiii  Capeniai!:'  ,  and  even  a  shortor  dis- 
taii('('l)y  land  (round  the  head  of  the  Lake)  hiy  tlie  distriet  of  Beth- 
saida-J alias.  It  was  natural  that  Christ,  wishing  to  avoid  pu))lic 
attention,  should  have  s^-one  '  by  ship,'  anil  equally  so  that  the  many 
'  seeing  them  departing,  and  knowing  ' — viz.,  what  direction  the  boat 
was  taking,  should  have  followed  on  foot,  and  been  joined  by  others 
from  the  neighbouring  villages,^  as  those  from  Capernaum  passed 
through  them,  perhaps,  also,  as  they  recognised  on  the  Lake  the  now 
welldvuown  sail, -  speeding  towards  the  other  shore.  It  is  an  incidental 
but  interesting  contirmation  of  the  narrative,  that  the  same  notice 
about  this  journey  occurs,  evidently  undesignedly,  in  St.  John  vi,  22. 
Yet  another  we  find  in  the  fact,  that  some  of  those  who  'ran  there 
on  i'oot '  had  reached  the  place  before  Jesus  and  His  xVpostles.''  Only 
some,  as  we  judge.  The  largest  proportion  arrived  later,  and  soon 
swelled  to  the  immense  number  of  'about  5,000  men,'  'besides 
women  and  children.'  The  circumstance  that  the  Passover  was  nigh 
at  hand,  so  that  many  must  have  been  starting  on  their  journey  to 
Jerusalem,  round  the  Lake  and  through  Pera?a,  partly  accounts  for 
the  concourse  of  such  multitudes.  And  this,  perhaps  in  conjunction 
with  the  efliect  on  the  people  of  John's  murder,  may  also  explain 
their  ready  and  eager  gathering  to  Christ,  thus  affording  yet  another 
confirmation  of  the  narrative. 

It  was  a  well-know^n  spot  where  Jesus  and  His  Apostles  touched 
the  shore.  Not  many  miles  south  of  it  was  the  Gerasa  or  Gergesa, 
where  the  great  miracle  of  healing  the  demonised  had  been  wrought." 
Just  beyond  Gerasa  the  mountains  and  hills  recede,  and  the  plain 
along  the  shore  enlarges,  till  it  attains  wide  proportions  on  the 
northern  bank  of  the  Lake.  The  few  ruins  wdiich  mark  the  site  of 
Bethsaida-Julias — most  of  the  basalt-stones  having  been  removed 
for  building  purposes— lie  on  the  edge  of  a  hill,  three  or  four  miles 
north  of  the  Lake.  The  ford,  l)y  which  those  who  came  from  Caper- 
naum crossed  the  Jordan,  was,  no  doubt,  that  still  used,  aljout  two 
miles  from  wdierc  the  river  enters  the  Lake.  About  a  mile  further, 
on  that  wide  expanse  of  grass,  would  be  the  scene  of  the  great 
miracle.  In  short,  the  locality  thoroughly  accords  Avith  the  require- 
ments of  the  Gospel-narrative. 

As  w^e  picture  it  to  ourselves,  our  Lord  with  His  disciples,  and 


'  This  seems  the  fan*  meaninj?  of  St. 
Mark  vi.  31-33,  conip.  with  St.  Matt.  xiv. 
18. 

'^  St.  Marl:  vi.  32  lias  it  'l.y  (or  rather 
in)   tlic   fillip.'  witli  the  definite   article. 


Probably  it  was  the  same  boat  tliat  was 
always  at  His  disjiosal,  perhaps  belon.ij;- 
inij  to  the  sons  of  Jonas  or  to  the  sons  of 
Zebedee. 


THE    PASSOVKi;    WAS    XKill.' 


679 


pcrluips  followed  by  those  wiio  liinl  oiitniu  tlic  rest,  first  retired  to 
the  top  of  a  lieight,  and  there  rested  in  teacliing  eonverse  with 
them.''  Treseutly,  as  lie  saw  the  great  multitudes  gathering,  lie 
was  'moved  with  eompassion  towards  them."'"  There  eould  be  no 
question  of  retirement  or  rest  in  view  of  this.  Surely,  it  was  the 
opportunity  which  God  had  given — a  call  which  came  to  Him  from 
His  Father.  Every  such  opportunity  was  unspeakably  precious  to 
Him,  Who  longed  to  gather  the  lost  under  His  wings.  It  might  be, 
that  even  now  they  would  learn  what  belonged  to  their  peace.  Oh, 
that  they  would  learn  it!  At  least,  He  must  work  while  it  was  called 
to-day,  ere  the  night  of  judgment  came;  work  with  tliat  unending 
patience  and  intense  compassion  which  made  Ilim  weep,  when  He 
could  no  longer  work.  It  was  this  depth  of  longing  and  intensencss 
of  pity  which  now  ended  the  Saviour's  rest,  and  brought  Him  down 
from  the  hill  to  meet  the  gathering  multitude  in  the  '  desert '  i)lain 
beneath. 

And  what  a  sight  to  meet  His  gaze— these  thousands  of  strong 
men,  besides  women  and  children;  and  what  thoughts  of  the  past, 
the  present,  and  the  future,  would  be  called  up  by  the  scene!  '  The 
Passover  was  nigh,''' with  its  remembrances  of  the  Paschal  night, 
the  Paschal  Lamb,  the  Paschal  Supper,  the  Paschal  deliverance — 
and  most  of  them  were  Passover-pilgrims  on  their  way  to  Jerusalem. 
These  Passover-pilgrims  and  God's  guests,  now  streaming  out  into 
this  desert  after  Him;  with  a  murdered  John  just  buried,  and 
no  earthly  teacher,  guide,  or  help  left!  Truly  they  were  'as  sheep 
having  no  shepherd.'^  The  very  surroundings  seemed  to  give  to  the 
thought  the  vividness  of  a  picture:  this  wandering,  straying  multi- 
tude, the  desert  sweep  of  country,  the  very  want  of  provisions.  A 
Passover,  indeed,  but  of  which  He  would  be  the  Paschal  Lamb,  t'.e 
Bread  which  He  gave,  the  Supper,  and  around  which  He  would  gather 
those  scattered,  shepherdless  sheep  into  one  flock  of  many  '  com- 
panies,' to  whicli  His  Apostles  would  bring  the  bread  He  had  blessed 
and  broken,  to  tlieir  sufficient  and  more  than  sufficient  nourishment; 
from  which,  indeed,  they  would  carry  the  remnant-baskets  full,  alter 
the  flock  had  been  fed,  to  the  jioor  in  the  outlying  places  of  fiir-otf 
heathendom.  And  so  thoughts  of  the  past,  the  present,  and  the 
future  must  have  mingled — thoughts  of  the  Passover  in  the  piist,  of 
the  Last,  the  Holy  Sui)per  in  the  future,  and  of  the  deeper  inward 


CHAP. 
XXIX 


»  St.  John 
vi.  S 

!■  St.  Matt, 
xiv.  li 


■  St.  John 


'•  St.  Mark 
vi.  31 


'  Canon  Wesfcotf  supposes  that  '  a  day 
of  teac'hinc;  and  healing  must  be  interca- 
lated before  the  miracle  of  feedini?,'  but 


I  cannot  see  any  reason  for  this.  All  the 
events  tit  well  into  one  dav. 


G80 


I'RO.M    JORDAN   TO   TUE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


a  St.  Mark 
vi.  34 

'■  St.  Luke 
is.  11 

^  St.  .John 
vi.  6 


'1  Comp. 
St.  .John 
xiv.  8.  9 


iiicaniii^'  and  ])rariiig'  of  ))otli  the  one  and  the  other;  thoug'hts  also 
of  tliis  lh)ek,  and  of  that  other  flock  which  was  yet  to  gather,  and  of 
the  far-oii"  places,  and  of  the  Apostles  and  their  service,  and  of  the 
provision  which  they  were  to  carry  from  His  Hands — a  provision 
never  exhausted  by  present  need,  and  which  always  leaves  enough  to 
carry  thence  and  far  away. 

There  is,  at  least  in  our  view,  no  doubt  that  thoughts  of  the 
Passover  and  of  the  Holy  Supper,  of  their  commingling  and  mystic 
meaning,  were  present  to  the  Saviour,  and  that  it  is  in  this  light  the 
miraculous  feeding  of  the  multitude  must  be  considered,  if  we  are  in 
any  measure  to  understand  it.  Meantime  the  Saviour  was  moving 
among  them — 'beginning  to  teach  them  many  things,"'  and  '  healing 
them  that  had  need  of  healing. ' "  Yet,  as  He  so  moved  and  thought 
of  it  all,  from  the  first,  '  He  Himself  knew  what  He  was  about  to  do.^ 
And  now  the  sun  had  passed  its  meridian,  and  the  shadows  fell 
longer  on  the  surging  crowd.  Full  of  the  thoughts  of  the  great 
Supper,  which  was  symbolically  to  link  the  Passover  of  the  past  with 
that  of  the  future,  and  its  Sacramental  continuation  to  all  time,  He 
turned  to  Philip  with  this  question:  'Whence  are  we  to  Iniy  bread, 
that  these  may  eat? '  It  was  to  'try  him,'  and  show  how  he  would 
view  and  meet  what,  alike  spiritually  and  temporally,  has  so  often 
been  the  great  problem.  Perhaps  there  was  something  in  Philip 
which  made  it  speciall}'  desirable,  that  the  question  should  be 
i:)ut  to  him.'"  xlt  any  rate,  the  answer  of  Philip  showed  that  there  had 
been  a  'need  be'  for  it.  This — 'two  hundred  denarii  (between  six 
and  seven  pounds)  worth  of  bread  is  not  sufficient  for  them,  that  every 
one  may  take  a  little,'  is  the  course  realism,  not  of  unbelief,  but  of  an 
absence  of  faith  which,  entirely  ignoring  any  higher  possibility,  has 
not  even  its  hope  left  in  a  '  Thou  knowest,  Lord.' 

But  there  is  evidence,  also,  that  the  question  of  Christ  worked 
deeper  thinking  and  higher  good.  As  we  understand  it,  Philip  told 
it  to  Andrew,  and  they  to  the  others.  While  Jesus  taught  and 
heale(}.,  they  must  have  spoken  together  of  this  strange  question  of 
the  Master.  They  knew  Him  sufficiently  to  judge,  that  it  implied 
some  purpose  on  His  part.  Did  He  intend  to  provide  for  all  that 
multitude?  They  counted  them  roughly — going  along  the  edge  and 
through  the  crowd — and  reckoned  them  by  thousands,  besides  women 
and  children.  They  thought  of  all  the  means  for  feeding  such  a 
multitude.  How  much  had  they  of  their  own?  As  we  judge  by 
combining  the  various  statements,  there  was  a  lad  there  who  car- 
ried the  scant,  humble  provisions  of  the  party — perhai)s  a  fisher-lad 


THE   FIVE   BARLEY-LOAVKS   AND   TWO   SMALL   FISHES.  681 

brought  lor  tlie   purpose  IVoiii  the  liont/'     It  would  take  quite  w'liat  CHAP. 

Philip    ha<l    reckoned — about  two  liuudred   denarii — if  the   Master  XXL\ 

meant  them  to  go  and  bu}'  victuals  for  all  that  multitude.     Probably  ' — ^.^-- 

the  conmion  stock — at  anv  rate  as  computed  by  Judas,  who  carried  \(-[omv-  st. 

^  *'  '  John  VI.  9 

the  bag — did  not  contain  that  amount.     In  any  case,  the  ri<>:ht  and   I'l'VH^^- 

"  '  j\ltllt.  XIV. 

the  wise  thing  was  to  dismiss  the  multitude,  that  they  might  <i"o  into  XV-"^}-  ■  „ 

'^         _  '  J  o         ._  Mark  VI.  38; 

the  toAvns  and  villages  and  buy  for  themselves  victuals,    and  find  ?^-  '^^^^ 
lodgment.     For  already  the  bright  spring-day   was   declining,    and 
what  was  called  '  the  first  evening '  had  set  in.^     For  the  Jews  reckoned 
two  evenings,  although  it  is  not  easy  to  determine  tlie  exact  hour 
when  each  began  and  ended.     But,  in  general,  the  first  evening  may 
be  said  to  have  Ijcgun  when  the  sun  declined,  and  it  was  probably 
reckoned  as  lasting  to  about  the  ninth  hour,  or  three  o'clock  of  the 
afternoon.''     Then  began  the  period  known  as   '  between  the  even-  " comp. /os. 
ings,'  which  would  be  longer  or  shorter  according  to  the  season  of  6.2' 
the  year,  and'  which  terminated  with  '  the  second  evening ' — the  time 
from  when  the  first  star  appeared  to  that  when  the  third  star  Avas 
visible."     With  the  night  began  the  reckoning  of  the  following  day.       «orach- 

°  °  ■  o  e?         J  Chajim  261 

It  was  the  '  first  evening '  when  the  disciples,  whose  anxiety 
must  have  been  growing  with  the  progress  of  time,  asked  the  Lord 
to  dismiss  the  people.  But  it  was  as  they  had  thought.  He  would 
have  them  give  the  people  to  eat!  Were  they,  then,  to  go  and  buy 
two  hundred  denarii  Avorth  of  loaves?  No — they  were  not  to  buy, 
but  to  give  of  their  oavu  store!  How  many  loaves  had  they!  Let 
them  go  and  see.''     And  Avhen  Andrew  went  to  see  what  store  the  "".st-Mark 

'^  VI.  38 

nsher-lad  carried  for  them,  he  brought  back  tlie  tidings,  '  He  hath 
five  barley  loaves  and  two  small  fishes,'  to  which  he  added,  half  in 
disbelief,  half  in  faith's  rising  expectancy  of  impossible  possibility: 
'But  Avhat  are  they  among  so  many?'"-  It  is  to  the  fourth  Evan-  ^st.  joim 
gelist  alone  that  we  owe  the  record  of  this  remark,  which  we  instinc- 
tively feel  gives  to  the  whole  the  touch  of  truth  and  life.  It  is  to 
him  also  that  we  owe  other  two  minute  traits  of  deepest  interest, 
and  of  far  greater  importance  than  at  first  sight  appears. 

When  we  read  that  these  five  were  barley-lonYes,  we  learn  that, 
no  doubt  from  voluntary  choice,  the  fare  of  the  Lord  and  of  His 
followers  Avas  the  poorest.  Indeed,  barley-bread  Avas,  almost  pro- 
verbially, the  meanest.  Hence,  as  the  Mishnah  puts  it,  Avhile  all 
other  meat-offerings  Avere  of  wlieat,  that  brought  by  the  woman 
accused  of  adultery  Avas  to  l^e  of  barlej',  because  (so  R.  Gamaliel 
puts  it),  '  as  her  deed  is  that  of  animals,  so  her  offering  is  also  of  the 
'  The  expreijsiou  in  St.  Maiiv  vi.  35  is  literally,  'a  late  hour,'  copa  ttoXA)}. 


(j82  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   .MOlXT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      ibod    of  animals. '^'     Tlu'  other  iniiiuto  trait    in  St.    Jolm's    Gospel 
III         consists  in  the  use  of  a  peeuliar  word  for  'tish'  {ofdpiov),  '  opsarion,' 
^- — ^.' — '   which  properly  means  what  was  eaten  along  with  the  bread,  and 
^sotah.  ii.  1  specially  refers  to  the  smali,  and  generally  dried  or  pickled  fish  eaten 
with  bread,  like  our  'sardines,'  or  the  '■  caviar  '  of  Russia,  the  pickled 
herrings  of  Holland  and  Germany,  or  a  peculiar  kind  of  small  dried 
fish,  eaten  with  the  l)ones,  in  the  North  of  Scotland.     Now  just  as 
any  one  wlio  would  name  that  fish  as  eaten  with  bread,  would  display 
such  minute  knowh^dge  of  the  habits  of  the  North-east  of  Scotland 
as  only  personal  residence  could  give,  so  in  regard  to  the  use  of 
this  term,    which,  be  it  marked,   is  'peculiar  to  tlie  Fourth  Gospel., 
Dr.  Westcott   suggests,  that  '  it  may  have  l)een  a  familiar  Galilean 
word,'    and    his    conjecture  is  correct,   lor    Op/isowi/i  ("I'^'^r^),  de- 
rived from  the  same  Greek  word  (oi/wv),    of  which  that   used  by 
St.  John  is  the  diminutive,  means   a  '  savoury  dish,'  while  Aphyan 
(^N*CN)  or  Aphits  (y^sr),  i'S  the  term  for  a  kind  of  small   fish,  such 
as  sardines.     The  importance  of  tracing  accurate  local  knowledge  in 
the  Fourth  Gospel  warrants  our  pursuing  the  sul)ject  further.     The 
Talmud  declares  that  of  all   kinds  of  meat,   fish  only  becomes  more 
bBabha.  B.  savoury  l)y  salting,''  and  names  certain  kinds,  specially  designated  as 
e^,._  '  small  fishes,' "  which  might  be  eaten  without  being  cooked.     Small 

c*:i:r  fishes  were  recommended  for  health;''  and  a  kind  of  pickle  or  savoury 
Bczaiea  ^^.^^  also  umde  of  them.  Now  the  Lake  of  Galilee  was  particularly 
i^aTthe"'  I'i^'l^  i'^  these  fishes,  and  we  know  that  both  the  salting  and  pickling  of 
them  was  a  special  industry  among  its  fishermen.  For  this  purpose 
a  small  kind  of  them  Avere  specially  selected,  which  bear  the  name 
Terlth  (n^-^.r)-'  Now  the  diminutive  used  by  St.  John  {oi/:apiov), 
of  which  our  Authorized  Version  no  doubt  gives  the  meaning  fairly-  l)y 
rendering  it  'small  fishes,'  refers,  no  doubt,  to  those  small  fishes  (pro- 
bably a  kind  of  sardine)  of  which  millions  were  caught  in  the  Lake, 
and  which,  dried  and  salted,  would  form  the  most  common  '  savoury  ' 
with  bread  for  the  fisher-population  along  the  shores. 

If  the  Fourth  Gospel  in  the  use  of  this  diminutive  displays  such 
special  Lake-knowledge  as  evidences  its  Galilean  origin,  another 
touching  trait  connected  with  its  use  may  here  be  mentioned.  It 
has  already  been  said  that  the  term  is  used  only  by  St.  John,  as  if 
to  mark  the  Lake  of  Galilee  origin  of  the  Fourth  Gospel.  But  only 
once  again  does  the  expression  occur  in  the  Fourth  Gospel.     On  that 

1  Comp.  Herzfdd,  Handelsgescli.  ]>p.       Leirt/so/ni,  Zool.  d.  Talm.  pp.  255,    256, 
305,  30fi.     Ill  my  view  he  has  e.stal)li.sh('d      and  Lerij,  Neuhebr.  Worterb.  ii.  192  a. 
the   meaning  of  this  name  as    against 


near  tlie 
middle 


THE   I'UO VISION   MULTIPLIED.  .  683 

morn i 111!:,  \vlicii  the   Itisen  One  inauirested    Iliinself  ])\  llic  Lake  of     ciiAP. 

Galik'u  to  tliciii  who  had  all  the  night  toiled   in  vain,  He  had  pro-      XXIX 

vided  for  tlioni  miraculously  the  meal,  when  on  the  '  fire  of  charcoal '  ^— ^r— ^ 

they  saw  the  well-remembered  '  little  fish '   (the  opsarion),   and,  as 

He  bade  them  bring  of  the  '  little  fish '  (the  opsaria)   which   they 

had  miraculously  caught,  Peter   drew  to  shore  the  net   full,  not  of 

opsaria,  -but  'of  great  fishes'  [ixOvoov  /.isj/dXcji^).    And  yet  it  was 

not   of  those    '  great  'fishes '    that   He   gave   them,    but   '  He  took 

the  bread  and  gave  them,  and   the  opsarion  likewise.'"     Thus,  in   ^st.  joim 

.  .  .   .     '"  .  .  .  xxi.  9, 10, 13 

infinite  humility,  the  meal  at  which  the  Risen  baviour  sat  down 
with  His  disciples  was  still  of  '  bread  and  small  fishes  ' — even  though 
He  gave  them  the  draught  of  large  fishes;  and  so  at  that  last 
meal  He  recalled  that  first  miraculous  feeding  by  the  Lake  of 
Galilee.  And  this  also  is  one  of  those  undesigned,  too  often  un- 
observed traits  in  the  narrative,  which  yet  carry  almost  irresistible 
evidence. 

There  is  one  proof  at  least  of  the  implicit  faith  or  rather  trust  of 
the  disciples  in  their  Master.  They  had  given  Him  account  of  their 
own  scanty  provision,  and  yet,  as  He  bade  them  make  the  people  sit 
down  to  the  meal,  they  hesitated  not  to  obey.  We  can  picture  it  to 
ourselves,  what  is  so  exquisitely  sketched:  the  expanse  of  '  grass, ' ''  ''St.  Ma-t. 
'green,' and  fresh,"  'much  grass;'*  then  the  people  in  their  'com-  est.  Mark 
panics""   of  fifties  and  hundreds,    reclining,''  and   looking  in  their  ^V' 

^  ?  i-^)  f3  ^  '1  St.  John 

regular  divisions,  and  with  their  bright  many-coloured  dresses,  like  ^i.  lo 
'  garden-beds '  '^  ^  on  the  turf.     But  on  One  Figure  must  every  eye  sriirrk" 


vi.  39 


have  been  bent.     Around  Him  stood  His  Apostles,     They  had  laid 
before  Him  the  scant  provision  made  for  their  own  wants,  and  which  Lukeix.u 
was  now  to  feed  this  great  multitude.     As  was  ^^^ont  at  meals,  on  the  vtV^^*"^ 
part  of  the  head  of  the  household,  Jesus  took  the  bread,  'blessed"'  ''Ber.  46  a 
or,  as  St.  John  puts  it,  '  gave  thanks, '  ^  and  '  brake  '  it.   The  expression 
recalls  that  connected  with  the   Holy  Eucharist,   and  leaves  little 
doubt  on  the  mind  that,  in  the  Discourse  delivered  in  the  Synagogue 
of  Capernaum,' there  is  also  reference  to  the  Lord's  Supper.     As  of ''St.  John 
comparatively  secondary  importance,  yet  helping  us  better  to  realise 
the  scene,   we  recall  the  Jewish  ordinance,   that  the  Head  of  the 
House  was  only  to  speak  the  blessing  if  he  himself  shared  in  the 
meal,  yet  if  they  who  sat  down  to  it  were  not  merely  guests,  but  his 

1  The  literal  reiiderinii-  of  Ttpacricx  is  used  by  the  Synopti^ts;  but  in  St.  Matt, 
'garden-bed.'  InSt.Mark  vi.  40. Tr/jfro-iai  xv.  ,36,  and  in  St.  Mark  viii.  (i,  the  term 
Ttpamai.  'garden-beds,  garden-beds.'  is  also  that  of  Mrn?/-.sv7/r///.'/.  \wt  blessing 
In  the  A.  V.  -in  ranks.'  {EvxapicrzEoo,  not  avXoy £&■>). 

2  The  expression  is  diilerent  from  that 


684 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


»  Rosh 
haSli.  -29  /; 


■■  Jer.  Sot. 
p.  21  6 


d  Ber.  44  a 


<■  Com  p. 
Sotah.  li.  1 


children,  or  liis  household,  then  niiii-ht  he  speak  it,  even  if  he  himself 
did  not  partake  of  the  bread  wliich  he  had  broken,"' 

Wc  can  scarcely  be  mistaken  as  to  the  words  which  Jesus  spake 
when  MIe  gave  thanks.'  The  Jewish  Law"  allows  the  grace  at  meat 
to  be  said,  not  only  in  Hebrew,  but  in  any  language,  the  Jerusalem 
Talmud  aptly  remarking,  that  it  was  proper  a  })erson  should  under- 
stand to  Whom  he  was  giving  thanks  (-|-::"^  *::?). "  Siuiilarly,  we 
have  very  distinct  information  as  regards  a  case  like  the  present. 
We  gather,  that  the  use  of '  savoury  '  with  bread  was  specially  common 
around  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  and  the  Mishnah  lays  down  the  principle, 
that  if  bread  and  '  savoury  '  were  eaten,  it  Avould  depend  which  of  the 
two  was  the  main  article  of  diet,  to  determine  whether  thanks- 
giving '  should  be  said  for  one  or  the  other.  In  any  case,  only 
one  benediction  was  to  be  used.'^  In  this  case,  of  course,  it 
would  be  spoken  over  the  bread,  the  '  savoury '  being  merely  an 
addition.  There  can  ])e  little  doubt,  therefore,  that  the  words  which 
Jesus  spake,  whether  in  Aramaean,  Greek,  or  Hebrew,  were  those  so 
well  known:  'Blessed  art  Thou,  Jehovah  our  God,  King  of  the 
Avorld,  Who  causes  to  come  forth  (N'Vi'snj  bread  from  the  earth.' 
Assuredly  it  was  this  threefold  thought:  the  upward  thought 
(sursum  corda),  the  recognition  of  the  creative  act  as  regards  every 
piece  of  bread  we  eat,  and  the  thanksgiving,  which  was  realised 
anew  in  all  its  fulness,  when,  as  He  distributed  to  the  disciples,  the 
provision  miraculously  multiplied  in  His  Hands.  And  still  they 
bore  it  from  His  Hands  from  company  to  company,  laying  l)efore 
each  a  store.  When  they  were  all  filled,  He  that  had  provided  the 
meal  bade  them  gather  up  the  fragments  before  each  company.  So 
doing,  each  of  the  twelve  had  his  basket  filled.  Here  also  we  have 
another  life-touch.  Those  '  baskets '  {Kocftivoi),  known  in  Jewish 
writings  by  a  similar  name  {Kephiphah),  made  of  wicker  or 
willows^  (."I'^IV'?  ~v"?r),  were  in  common  use,  but  considered  of  the 
poorest  kind.''  There  is  a  sublimeness  of  contrast  that  passes 
llescription  l^etween  this  feast  to  the  five  thousand,  besides  women 
and  children,  and  the  poor's  provision  of  barley  l)read  and  the  two 
small  fishes;  and,  again,  between  the  quantity  left  and  the  coarse 
wicker  baskets  in  which  it  was  stored.  Nor  do  we  forget  to  draw 
mentally  the  parallel  between  this  Messianic  feast  and  that  bancpiet 
of  'the  latter  days  '  which  Rabbinism  pictured  so  realistically.  But 
as  the  wondering  multitude  watched,  as  the  disciples  gathered  from 


'  Not  an  Ei;Ti)tiaii  Ijaskot.  as  even  Jo.<:t 
translates  in  his  edition  of  (he  Mishnah. 


The  word  is  derived  from 
wicker  or  willow). 


(Metser), 


•THIS   IS   TRULY   THE   COMING   ONE.'  .^86 

company  to  company  the  fragments  into  tlieir  baskets,  the  murmur  CHAP, 

ran  through  the   ranks:   '  Tliis  is  truly  the  Proi)het,  ''the  Coming  XXIX 

One  '"  {habba,  X2n)  into  the  world.'     And  so  the  Baptist's  last  inquiry,  ^— "y- — ' 
'  Art  Thou  the  Coming  One?  "  was  fully  and  publicly  answered,  and 
that  by  the  Jews  themselves. 

*  See  the  meauiug  of  that  expression  in  the  previous  chapter. 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE  NIGHT  OF  MIRACLES  ON  THE  LAKE  OF  GENNESARET. 

(St.  Matt.  xiv.  22-36;  St.  Mark  vi.  45-56;  St.  John  vi.  15-21.) 

BOOK      The  last  question  of  the  Baptist,  spoken  in  public,  had  been:   'Art 
III        Thou  the  Coming  One,  or  look  we  for  another?'     It  had,  in  part, 

— ^Y— ^  been  answered,  as  the  murmur  had  passed  through  the  ranks:  'This 
One  is  truly  the  Prophet,  the  Coming  One ! '  So,  then,  they  had  no 
longer  to  wait,  nor  to  look  for  another !  And  this  '  Prophet '  was 
Israel's  long  expected  Messiah,  What  this  would  imply  to  the 
people,  in  the  intensity  and  longing  of  the  great  hope  which,  for 
centuries,  nay,  far  beyond  the  time  of  Ezra,  had  swayed  their  hearts, 
it  is  impossible  fully  to  conceive.  Here,  then,  was  the  Great 
Reality  at  last  before  them.  He,  on  Whose  teaching  they  had  hung 
entranced,  was  'the  Prophet,'  nay,  more,  'the  Coming  One:'  He 
Who  was  coming  all  those  many  centuries,  and  yet  had  not  come 
till  now.  Then,  also,  was  He  more  than  a  Prophet — a  King:  Israel's 
King,  the  King  of  the  world.  An  irresistible  impulse  seized  the 
people.  They  would  proclaim  Him  King,  then  and  there;  and  as 
they  knew,  probably  from  previous  utterances,  perhaps  when  similar 
movements  had  to  be  checked,  that  He  would  resist,  they  would 
constrain  Him  to  declare  Himself,  or  at  least  to  be  proclaimed  by 
them.  Can  we  wonder  at  this;  or  that  thoughts  of  a  Messianic 
worldly  kingdom  should  have  filled,  moved,  and  influenced  to 
discipleship  a  Judas;  or  tliat,  with  such  a  .representative  of  their 
own  thoughts  among  the  disciples,  the  rising  waves  of  popular 
excitement  should  have  swollen  into  the  mighty  billows? 

'  Jesus  therefore,  perceiving  that  they  were  about  to  come,  and  to 
take  Him  by  force,  that  they  might  make  Him  King,^  withdrew 
again  into  the  mountain,  Himself  alone,'  or,  as  it  might  be  rendered, 

>  Note  here  the  want  of  the  article:      it  is  in  marked  incoiisiritency  with  the 
tva  noiijaoocriv  avtov  /JacriAea.    We      theory  of  its  late  Ephesiaii  authorship, 
owe  this  notice  to  the  Fourth  Gospel, and 


LONELY    I'HAYHK    BEFORE   THE   NIGHT   OF   MHiACLES.  687 

though  iiut  quite  in  the  iiiodcni  usafjo  of  the  expression,  'became     CHAP. 

an  auchorite  agaiu  .   .   .   lliuiscll' alouc." '^     This  is  another  of  those      XXX 

sublime  contrasts,  which  render  it  well-nigh  inconceivable  to  regard  ^— -y-'-^ 

thi3  history  otherwise  than  as  true  and  Divine.     Yet  another  is  the  'St.john 

.  .  .  yi.  15 

manner  in  which   He  stilled  the  multitude,  and   the  purpose    for 

which  He  became  the  lonely  Anchorite  on  the  mountain-top.     He 

withdrew  to  pray;    and  He   stilled  the  people,  and  sent   them,  no 

doubt  solemnised,  to  their  homes,  by  telling  them  that  He  withdrew  to 

pray.     And  He  did  pray  till  far  on,  '  when  the  (second)  evening  had 

come,' "  and  the  first  stars  shone  out  in  the  deep  blue  sky  over  the  ^f^*-^^"- 

Lake  of  Galilee,  with  the  far  lights  twinkling  and  trembling  on  the 

other  side.     And  yet  another  sublime  contrast — as  He  constrained 

the  disciples  to  enter  the  ship,  and  that  ship,  which  bore  those  who 

had  been  sharers  in  the  miracle,  could  not  make  way  against  storm 

and  waves,  and  was  at  last  driven  out  of  its  course.     And  yet  another 

contrast — as   He   walked  on  the  storm-tossed  waves  and  subdued 

them.     And  yet  another,  and  another — for  is  not  all  this  history  one 

sublime  contrast  to  the  seen  and  the  thought  of  by  men,  but  withal 

most  true  and  Divine  in  the  sublimeness  of  these  contrasts? 

For  whom  and  for  what  He  prayed,  alone  on  that  mountain,  we 
dare  not,  even  in  deepest  reverence,  inquire.  Yet  we  think,  in  connec- 
tion with  it,  of  the  Passover,  the  Manna,  the  Wilderness,  the  Lost  ' 
Sheep,  the  Holy  Supper,  the  Bread  which  is  His  Flesh,  and  the  rem- 
nant in  the  Baskets  to  be  carried  to  those  afar  off,  and  then  also  , 
of  the  attempt  to  make  Him  a  King,  in  all  its  spiritual  unreality, 
ending  in  His  View  with  the  betrayal,  the  denial,  and  the  cry :  '  We 
have  no  King  but  Caesar. '  And  as  He  prayed,  the  faithful  stars  in 
the  heavens  shone  out.  But  there  on  the  Lake,  Avhcre  the  bark 
which  bore  His  disciples  made  for  the  other  shore,  '  a  great  wind ' 
'  contrary  to  them  '  was  rising.  And  still  He  was  '  alone  on  the  land, ' 
but  looking  out  into  the  evening  after  them,  as  the  ship  was  '  in  the 
midst  of  the  sea,'  and  they  toiling  and  '  distressed  in  rowing.' 

Thus  far,  to  the  utmost  verge  of  their  need,  but  not  fiirther. 
The  Lake  is  altogether  about  forty  furlongs  or  stadia  (about  six 
miles)  wide,  and  they  had  as  yet  reached  little  more  than  half  the 
distance  (twenty-five  or  thirty  furlongs).  Already  it  was  '  the  fourth 
watch  of  the  night. "  There  was  some  diti'ereuce  of  opinion  among 
the  Jews,  whether  the  night  should  be  divided  into  three,  or  (as 
among  the  Romans)  into  four  watches.  The  latter  (which  would 
count  the  night  at  twelve  instead  of  nine  hours)  was  adopted  by 
nmny.""     In  any  case  it  would  be  Avhat  might  be  termed  the  morning-     Ber.sh 


688  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   M(JUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  watch/  when  the  well-known  Form  seemed  to  be  passing  them, 
ni  'walking  upon  the  sea.'  There  can,  at  least,  be  no  question  that 
^— "v^*^  such  Avas  the  impression,  not  only  of  one  or  another,  but  that  all  saw 
Him.  Nor  yet  can  there  be  here  question  of  any  natural  explanation. 
Once  more  the  truth  of  the  event  must  be  either  absolutely  admitted, 
or  absolutely  rejected.^  The  difficulties  of  the  latter  hypothesis,  which 
truly  cuts  the  knot,  would  be  very  formidable.  Not  only  would  the 
origination  of  this  narrative,  as  given  by  two  of  the  Synoptists  and  by 
St.  John,  be  utterly  unaccountable — neither  meeting  Jewish  expec- 
tancy, nor  yet  supposed  Old  Testament  precedent — but,  if  legend 
it  be,  it  seems  purposeless  and  irrational.  Moreover,  there  is  this 
noticeable  about  it,  as  about  so  many  of  the  records  of  the  miraculous 
in  the  New  Testament,  that  the  writers  by  no  means  disguise  from 
themselves  or  their  readers  the  obvious  difficulties  involved.  In  the 
present  instance  they  tell  us,  that  they  regarded  His  Form  moving 
on  the  water  as  '  a  spirit,'  and  cried  out  for  fear;  and  again,  that  the 
impression  produced  by  the  whole  scene,  even  on  them  that  had 
witnessed  the  miracle  of  the  previous  evening,  was  one  of  over- 
whelming astonishment.  This  walking  on  the  water,  then,  was  even 
to  them  within  the  domain  of  the  truly  miraculous,  and  it  affected 
their  minds  equally,  perhaps  even  more  than  ours,  from  the  fact  that 
in  their  view  so  much,  which  to  us  seems  miraculous,  lay  within  the 
sphere  of  what  might  be  expected  in  the  course  of  such  a  history. 

On  the  other  hand,  this  miracle  stands  not  isolated,  but  forms 
one  of  a  series  of  similar  manilcstations.  It  is  closely  connected 
both  with  what  had  passed  on  the  previous  evening,  and  what  was  to 
follow;  it  is  told  with  a  minuteness  of  detail,  and  with  such  marked 
absence  of  any  attempt  at  gloss,  adornment,  apology,  or  self-glori- 
fication, as  to  give  the  narrative  (considered  simply  as  such)  the  stamp 
of  truth;  while,  lastly,  it  contains  much  that  lifts  the  story  from  the 
merely  miraculous  into  the  domain  of  the  sublime  and  deeply  spir- 
itual.    As  regards  what  may  be  termed  its  credibility,  this  at  least 

'  Probably  from  3  to  about  6  a.  m.  principles  ?  Volkmai-  (^larcus,  p.  372) 
2  Even  the  beautiful  allegory  into  which  regards  this  whole  history  as  an  allegory 
Keim  would  resolve  it — that  the  Church  of  St.  Paul's  activity  among  the  Gentiles! 
in  her  need  knows  not,  whether  her  Strange  in  that  case,  that  it  was  omitted 
Saviour  may  not  come  in  the  last  watch  in  the  Gospel  by  St.  Luke.  But  the 
of  the  night — entirely  surrenders  the  whole  of  that  section  of  Volkmar's  book 
whole  narrative.  And  why  should  three  (beginning  at  p.  327)  contains  an  extra- 
Evangelists  have  invented  such  a  story,  ordinary  congeries,  of  baseless  hypo- 
in  order  to  teach  or  rather  disguise  a  doc-  theses,  of  which  it  were  difficult  to  say, 
trine,  which  is  otherwise  so  clearly  ex-  whether  the  language  is  more  painfully 
pressed  throughout  the  whole  New  Tes-  irreverent  or  the  outcome  morq  extrava- 
tament,  as  to  form   one  of  its  primary  gant. 


HISTORY  OR   MYTH?  689 

may  again  be  stated,  that  this  and  similar  instances  of  '  dominion     CHAP. 

over  the  creature,'  are  not   beyond    the   range   of  what    God  had      XXX 

originally  assigned  to  man,  when  He  made  him  a  little  lower  than  ^— ^.^ — ' 

the  angels,  and  crowned  him  with  glory  and   honour,  made  him  to 

have  dominion  over  the  works  of  His  Hands,  and  all  things  were 

nut  under  his  feet.''      Indeed,  this    'dominion  over  the  sea'  seems  "Ps.  vm.  5. 

.    .  .    .  6;  comp. 

to  exhibit  the  Divinely  human  rather  than  the  humanly  Divme  Hebr.  11.6-9 
aspect  of  His  Person,'  if  such  distinction  may  be  lawfully  made. 
Of  the  physical  possil)ility  of  such  a  miracle — not  to  speak  of  the 
contradiction  in  terms  which  this  implies — no  expkumtion  can  be  at- 
tempted, if  it  were  only  on  the  ground  that  we  are  utterly  ignorant 
of  the  conditions  under  which  it  took  place. 

This  much,  however,  deserves  special  notice,  tliat  there  is  one 
marked  point  of  difl'erence  1)etween  the  account  of  this  miracle  and 
what  will  be  ibund  a  general  cliaracteristic  in  legendary  narratives. 
In  the  latter,  the  miraculous,  however  extraordinary,  is  the  expected; 
it  creates  no  surprise,  and  it  is  never  mistaken  for  something  that 
might  have  occurred  in  the  ordinary  course  of  events.  For,  it  is  char- 
acteristic of  the  mythical  that  tlie  miraculous  is  not  only  introduced 
in  the  most  realistic  manner,  but  forms  the  essential  element  in 
the  conception  of  things.  This  is  the  very  raison  d'etre  of  the  myth 
or  legend,  when  it  attaches  itself  to  the  real  and  historically  true. 
Now  the  opposite  is  the  case  in  the  present  narrative.  Had  it  l)een 
mythical  or  legendary,  we  should  have  expected  that  the  disciples 
would  have  been  described  as  immediately  recognising  the  Master 
as  He  walked  on  the  sea,  and  worshipping  Him.  Instead  of  this, 
they  '  are  troubled  '  and  '  afraid.'  '  They  supposed  it  was  an  appari- 
tion,' ^  (this  in  accordance  with  popular  Jewish  notions),  and  '  cried 
out  for  fear.'  Even  afterwards,  when  they  had  received  Him  into 
the  ship,  'they  were  sore  amazed  in  themselves,'  and  'understood 
not,'  while  those  in  the  ship  (in  contradistinction  to  the  disciples), 
burst  forth  into  an  act  of  worship.  This  much  then  is  evident,  that 
the  disciples  expected  not  the  miraculous;  that  they  were  unpre- 
pared for  it;  that  they  had  explained  it  on  what  to  them  seemed  natural 
grounds;  and  that,  even  when  convinced  of  its  reality,  the  impres- 
sion of  wonder,  which  it  made,  was  of  the  deepest.  And  this  also 
Ibllows  is  a  corollary,  that,  when  they  recorded  it,  it  was   not  in 

'  On  the  other  hand,  the  miraculons  -  Literally,  a  phantasnia.     This  word 

feeding  of  the  multitude  seems  to  exiiil)it  is  only  used  in  this  narrative  (St.  Matt, 

rather  the  humanly-Divine  aspect  of  His  xiv.  2()  and  St.  Mark  vi.  19). 
Person. 


690 


FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 


BOOK 
III 


>>  1  Cor.  XV. 
12-19 

'■  Acts  xvii. 
31,  32 

d  1  Cor.  XV. 
1-8 


2  Pet.  iii.  i 


f  St.  Matt. 
xiv.  22 


6  St.  John 
yi.  22 


ignorance  that  they  were  writing  that  which  sounded  strangest,  and 
which  would  aflfect  those  who  should  read  it  with  even  much  greater 
wonderment— we  had  almost  written,  unbelief — than  those  who  them- 
selves had  witnessed  it. 

Nor  let  it  be  forgotten,  that  what  has  just  been  remarked  about 
this  narrative  holds  equally  true  in  i-egard  to  other  miracles  recorded 
in  the  New  Testament.  Thus,  even  so  fundamental  an  article  of  the 
faith  as  the  resurrection  of  Christ  is  described  as  having  come  upon 
the  disci];)les  themselves  as  a  gurpi'ise — not  only  wholly  unexpected, 
but  so  incredible,  that  it  required  repeated  and  indisputable  evidence 
to  command  their  acknowledgment.  And  nothing  can  be  more  plain, 
than  that  St.  Paul  himself  was  not  only  aware  of  the  general  resist- 
ance which  the  announcement  of  such  an  event  would  raise,*  but  that 
he  felt  to  the  full  the  difficulties  of  what  he  so  firmly  believed,*"  and 
made  the  foundation  of  all  his  preaching."  Indeed,  the  elaborate 
exposition  of  the  historical  grounds,  on  which  he  had  arrived  at  the 
conviction  of  reality,'' affords  an  insight  into  the  mental  difficulties 
which  it  must  at  first  have  presented  to  him.  And  a  similar  inference 
may  be  drawn  from  the  reference  of  St.  Peter  to  the  difficulties  con- 
nected with  the  Biblical  predictions  about  the  end  of  the  world."' 

It  is  not  necessary  to  pursue  this  subject  further.  Its  bearing  on 
the  miracle  of  Christ's  walking  on  the  Sea  of  Galilee  will  be  suf- 
ficiently manifest.  Yet  other  confirmatory  evidence  may  be  gathered 
from  a  closer  study  of  the  details  of  the  narrative.  When  Jesus 
'  constrained  the  disciples  to  enter  into  the  boat,  and  to  go  before 
Him  unto  the  other  side,'  they  must  have  thought,  that  His  pur- 
pose was  to  join  them  by  land,  since  there  was  no  other  boat  there, 
save  that  in  which  they  crossed  the  Lake.^  And  possibly  such  had 
been  his  intention,  till  He  saw  their  difficulty,  if  not  danger,  from 
the  contrary  wind.^  This  must  have  determined  Him  to  come  to 
their  help.  And  so  this  miracle  also  was  not  a  mere  display  of 
power,  but,  being  caused  by  their  need,  had  a  moral  object.  And 
when  it  is  asked,  how  from  the  mountain-height  by  the  Lake  He  could 
have  seen  at  night  where  the  ship  was  labouring  so  far  on  the  Lake,^ 


'  The  authenticity  of  the  Second  Epis- 
tle of  St.  Peter  is  here  taken  for  ,2;ranted, 
but  the  drift  of  the  arj^uinent  would  be 
the  same,  to  whatever  authorship  it  be 
ascribed. 

^  Weiss  (Matthaus-Evang.  p.  .372)  sees 
a  gross  contradiction  between  what 
seems  implied  as  to  His  original  purpose 
and  His  walking  on  the  sea,  and  hence 


rejects  the  narrative.  Such  are  the  as- 
sumptions of  negative  criticism.  But  it 
seems  forgotten  that,  according  to  St. 
Matt.  .\iv.  24,  the  journey  seems  at  first 
to  have  been  fairly  ])rosperous. 

3  M'eiss  (u.  s.)  certainly  argues  on  the 
impossibility  of  His  having  seen  the  boat 
so  far  out  on  the  Lake. 


THK   STURM    ON   THE    LAKE.  ^91 

it  must  surely  have  been  Ibrgotten  that  the  seeue  is  laid  (j[uite  shortly      CHAP. 
before  the  Passover  (the  15th  of  Nisan),  when,  of  coui-sc,  the  moon       XXX 

would  shine  on  an  unclouded  sky,  all  the  more  bri.iihtly  on  a  windy   ' r"^ 

spring-night,  and  light  up  the  waters  far  across. 

We  can  almost  picture  to  ourselves  the  weird  scene.  The  Christ 
is  on  that  hill-top  in  solitary  converse  with  His  Father — praying  after 
that  nriraculous  breaking  of  bread:  fully  realising  all  that  it  imi)lied 
to  Him  of  self-surrender,  of  suffering,  and  of  giving  Himself  as  the 
Food  of  the  World,  and  all  that  it  implied  to  us  of  blessing  and 
nourishment;  praying  also — with  that  scene  fresh  on  His  mind,  of 
their  seeking  to  make  Him,  even  by  force,  their  King — that  the  car- 
nal might  become  spiritual  reality  (as  in  symbol  it  would  be  with  the 
Breaking  of  Bread).  Then,  as  He  rises  from  His  knees,  knowing 
that,  alas,  it  could  not  and  would  not  be  so  to  the  many.  He  looks  out 
over  the  Lake  after  that  little  company,  which  embodied  and  repre- 
sented all  there  yet  was  of  His  Church,  all  that  would  really  feed  on 
the  Bread  from  Heaven,  and  own  Him  their  true  King.  Without 
presumption,  we  may  venture  to  say,  that  there  must  have  })een 
indescribable  sorrow  and  longing  in  His  Heart,  as  His  gaze  was  bent 
across  the  track  which  the  little  boat  would  follow.  As  we  view  it, 
it  seems  all  symliolical:  the  night,  the  moonlight,  the  little  boat,  the 
contrary  wind,  and  then  also  the  lonely  Saviour  aftOr  i)rayer  looking 
across  to  where  the  boatmen  vainly  labour  to  gain  the  other  shore. 
As  in  the  clear  moonlight  just  that  piece  of  water  stands  out,  almost 
like  burnished  silver,  with  all  else  in  shadows  around,  the  sail-less 
mast  is  now  rocking  to  ami  fro,  without  moving  forward.  They 
are  in  difficulty,  in  danger:  and  the  Saviour  cannot  pursue  His  jour- 
ney on  foot  by  land;  He  must  come  to  their  helj),  though  it  be  across 
the  water.  It  is  needful,  and  therefore  it  shall  be  ujuju  the  water; 
and  so  the  storm  and  unsuccessful  toil  shall  not  prevent  their  reach- 
ing the  shore,  but  shall  also  be  to  them  for  teaching  conceiming  Him 
and  His  great  power,  and  concerning  His  great  deliverance;  such 
teaching  as,  in  another  aspect  of  it,  had  been  given  them  in  symbol 
in  the  miraculous  supply  of  food,  with  all  that  it  imj^lied  (and  not  to 
them  only,  l)ut  to  us  also)  of  precious  comfort  and  assurance,  and  as 
will  for  ever  keep  the  Church  from  being  overwhelmed  by  fear  in  the 
stormy  night  on  the  Lake  of  Galilee,  when  the  labour  of  our  oars 
cannot  make  way  for  us. 

And  they  also  who  were  in  the  boat  must  have  been  agitated  l)y 
peculiar  feelings.  Against  their  will  they  had  been  'constrained" 
by    the    Lord    to  embark   and   quit  the    scene:    just    as   the    multi- 


592  FROM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF   TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK  tude,  under  the  intiuence  of  the  great  miracle,  were  surrounding 
HI  their  Master,  with  violent  insistence  to  proclaim  him  the  Messianic 
^--"^Y^"^^  King  of  Israel.  Not  only  a  Judas  Iscariot,  but  all  of  them,  must 
have  been  under  the  strongest  excitement:  first  of  the  great  miracle, 
and  then  of  the  popular  movement.  It  was  the  crisis  in  the  history 
of  the  Messiah  and  of  His  Kingdom.  Can  we  wonder,  that,  when 
the  Lord  in  verj^  mercy  bade  them  quit  a  scene  which  could  only  have 
misled  them,  they  were  reluctant,  nay,  that  it  almost  needed  vio- 
lence on  His  part?  And  yet — the  more  we  consider  it — was  it  not 
most  truly  needful  for  them,  that  they  should  leave?  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  in  this  respect  also,  does  there  seem  a  '  need  be  '  for  His 
walking  upon  the  sea,  that  they  might  learn  not  only  His  Almighty 
Power,  and  (symbolically)  that  He  ruled  the  rising  waves;  but  that, 
in  their  disappointment  at  His  not  being  a  King,  they  might  learn 
that  He  ivas  a  King — only  in  a  far  higher,  truer  sense  than  the 
excited  multitude  would  have  proclaimed  Him. 

Thus  we  can  imagine  the  feelings  with  which  they  had  pushed  the 
boat  from  the  shore,  and  then  eagerly  looked  back  to  descry  what 
passed  there.  But  soon  the  slladows  of  night  were  enwrai)ping  all 
objects  at  a  distance,  and  only  the  bright  moon  overhead  shone  on  the 
track  behind  and  before.  And  now  the  breeze  from  the  other  side  of 
the  Lake,  of  which  they  may  have  been  unaware  when  they  embarked 
on  the  eastern  shore, -had  freshened  into  violent,  contrary  wind.  All 
energies  must  have  been  engaged  to  keep  the  boat's  head  towards  the 
shore.  ^  Even  so  it  seemed  as  if  they  could  make  no  progress,  when 
all  at  once,  in  the  track  that  lay  behind  them,  a  Figure  appeared. 
As  it  passed  onwards  over  the  water,  seemingly  upborne  by  the 
waves  as  they  rose,  not  disappearing  as  they  fell,  but  carried  on  as 
they  rolled,  the  silvery  moon  laid  upon  the  trembling  waters  the 
shadows  of  that  Form  as  it  moved,  long  and  dark,  on  their  track. 
St.  John  uses  an  expression,^  which  shows  us  in  the  pale  light,  those 

1  Accor(liii<i:  to  St.  Matt.  xiv.  24,  they  sense  of  earnest  and  attentive  consider- 

seem  only  to  have  encountered  the  full  ation.     The  use  of  this  word  as  distin- 

force  of  the  wind  when  they  were  about  jjuished    from    merely  seeitir/.  is  so  im- 

the  middle  of  the  Lake.     We  imagine  portant  for  the  better  iniderstandin.ii:  of 

that  soon  after  they  embarked  there  may  the  New  Testament,   that  every  reader 

have  been  a  fresh  breeze  from  the  other  should   mark   it.      We   accordingly   ap- 

side  of  the  Lake,  which  by  and  by  rose  peiid  a  list  of  the  passages  in  the  Gos- 

into  a  violent  contrary  wind.  pels  where  this  word  is  used:  St.  Matt. 

'^  St.  John,  in  distinction  to  the  Synop-  xxvii.   .5.5;    xxviii.  1;    St.   Mark  iii.   11; 

tists,  here  uses  the  expression  fjeoopfiv  v.  15,  38;  xii.  41;  xv.  40,  47;  xvi.  4;  St. 

(St.  John  vi.  19),   which  in  the  Gospels  Luke  x.  18;  xiv.  29;  xxi.  6;  xxiii.  35,  48; 

has   the   distiiictive   meaning  of  fixed,  xxiv.  37,  39;  St.  .John  ii.  23;  iv.  19;  vi. 

earnest,  and  intent  gaze,    mostly   out-  2  (Lachin.  aw\  Trpr/.).Y}.  ^(\.  iVl;   vii.  3; 

ward,  but  sometimes  also  inward,  in  the  viii.  51:  ix.  8;  x.  12;  xii.  19.  45;  xiv.  17. 


CHRIST   WALKING   ON   THE   \VATKI{. 


693 


in  ihe  boat,  intently,  fixedly,  fearfully,  .gazing  at  the  Apparition  as  It 
neared  still  closer  and  closer.  Wo  must  renieinhei-  their  previous 
excitement,  as  also  tlie  presence,  and,  no  doubt,  the  superstitious 
suggestions  of  the  boatman,  when  we  think  how  they  cried  out  for 
fear,  and  deemed  It  an  Apparition.  And  '  lie  would  have  passed  by 
them,'"  as  He  so  often  does  in  our  case — bringing  them,  indeed, 
deliverance,  pointing  and  smoothing  their  way,  but  not  giving  them 
II is  known  Presence,  if  they  had  not  cried  out.  But  their  fear, 
which  made  them  almost  hesitate  to  receive  Him  into  the  boat,  ' 
even  though  the  outcome  of  error  and  superstition,  brought  His 
ready  sympathy  and  comfort,  in  language  which  has  so  often,  and  in 
all  ages,  converted  foolish  fears  of  misapprehension  into  gladsome, 
thankful  assurance:   '  It  is  I,  be  not  afraid! ' 

And  they  were  no  longer  afiaid,  though  truly  His  walking  upon 
the  waters  might  seem  more  awesome  than  any  'apparition.  '  The 
storm  in  their  hearts,  like  that  on  the  Lake,  was  commanded  by  His 
Presence.  We  must  still  bear  in  mind  their  former  excitement,  now 
greatly  intensified  by  what  they  had  just  witnessed,  in  order  to 
understand  the  request  of  Peter:  '  Lord,  if  it  be  Thou,  bid  me  come 
to  Thee  on  the  water.'  They  are  the  words  of  a  man,  whom  the 
excitement  of  the  moment  has  carried  beyond  all  reflection.  And 
yet  this  combination  of  doubt  ('  if  it  be  Thou  '),  with  presumption 
('bid  me  come  on  the  water'),  is  peculiarly  characteristic  of  Peter. 
He  is  the  Apostle  of  Hope — and  hope  is  a  combination  of  doubt 
and  presumption,  but  also  their  transformation.  With  reverence  be 
it  said,  Christ  could  not  have  left  the  request  ungranted,  even  though 
it  was  the  outcome  of  yet  unreconciled  and  untransformed  doubt 
and  presumption.  He  would  not  have  done  so — or  doubt  would  have 
remained  doubt  untransformed;  and  He  could  not  have  done  so, 
without  also  correcting  it,  or  presumption  would  have  remained  pre- 
sumption untransformed,  which  is  only  upward  growth,  without 
deeper  rooting  in  inward  spiritual  experience.  And  so  He  bade  him 
come  upon  the  water,  ^  to  transform  his  doubt,  but  left  him,  unas- 
sured from  without,  to  his  own  feelings  as  he    saw   the    wind,-*  to 


CHAP. 
XXX 


"  St.  Mark 
vl.  48 


19;  xvi.  10,  16,  17,  19;  xvii.  24;  xx.  fi, 
12,  14.  It  will  tlms  be  seen,  that  the 
expression  is  more  freciuently  used  by 
St.  John  than  in  the  other  Gospels,  and 
it  is  there  also  that  its  distinctive  mean- 
inoj  is  of  ,2:reatest  iTn])ortancp. 

'  This  seems  to  me  implied  in  the  ex- 
pression, St.  .John  vi.  21:  'Then  they 
were  willing  to  take  Him  into  the  ship.' 


Some  negative  critics  have  gone  so  far  as 
to  see  in  this  graphic  hint  a  contradiction 
to  the  statements  of  the  Synoptists. 
(See  Liirk<\  Comment,  ii.  d.  Evang.  Joli. 
ii.  pp.  120-122.) 

'^  As  to  the  physical  possibility  of  it, 
we  have  to  refer  to  our  former  remarks. 

3  The  word  -boisterous'  must  l)e 
struck  out  as  an  interpolated  gloss. 


g94  ^'liOM   JORDAN   TO   THE   MOUNT   OF  TRANSFIGURATION. 

BOOK      transform    his  presumption;  while  by  stretching  out  His  Hand    to 
III        save  him  from  sinking,  and  by  the  words  of  correction  wliich  He 

^ y '  spake,  He  did  actually  so  point  to  their  transformation  in  that  hope, 

of  which  St.  Peter  is  the  special  representative,  and  the  preacher  in 
the  Church. 

And  presently,  as  they  two  came  into  the  boat,  '  the  wind  ceased, 
and  immediately  the  ship  was  at  the  land.  But  '  they  that  were  in 
the  boat ' — apparently  in  contradistinction  to  the  disciples,^  though 
the  latter  must  have  stood  around  in  sympathetic  reverence — 
'worshipped  Him,  saying.  Of  a  truth  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God.' 
The  first  full  public  confession  this  of  the  fact,  and  made  not  by  the 
disciples,  but  by  others.  With  the  disciples  it  would  have  meant 
something  far  deeper.  But  as  from  the  lips  of  these  men,  it  seems 
like  the  echo  of  what  had  passed  between  them  on  that  memorable 
passage  across  the  Lake.  They  also  must  have  mingled  in  the  con- 
versation, as  the  boat  had  pushed  off  from  the  shore  on  the  previous 
evening,  when  they  spake  of  the  miracle  of  the  feeding,  and  then 
of  the  popular  attempt  to  proclaim  Him  Messianic  King,  of  which 
they  knew  not  yet  the  final  issue,  since  they  had  been  '  constrained 
to  get  into  the  boat,'  while  the  Master  remained  behind.  They 
would  speak  of  all  that  He  was  and  had  done,  and  how  the  very 
devils  had  proclaimed  Him  to  be  the  '  Son  of  God,  'on  that  other 
shore,  close  by  where  the  miracle  of  feeding  had  taken  place. 
Perhaps,  having  been  somewhat  driven  out  of  thqir  course,  they 
may  have  passed  close  to  the  very  spot,  and,  as  they  pointed  to  it 
recalled  the  incident.  And  this  designation  of  '  Son  of  God,  '  with 
the  worship  which  followed,  would  come  much  more  readily,  because 
with  much  more  superficial  meaning,  to  the  boatmen  than  to  the  dis- 
ciples. But  in  them,  also,  the  thought  was  striking  deep  root;  and 
presently,  by  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration,  would  it  be  spoken  in 
the  name  of  all  by  Peter,  not  as  demon-  nor  as  man-taught,  but  as 
taught  of  Christ's  Father  Who  is  in  Heaven. 

Yet  another  question  suggests  itself.  The  events  of  the  night 
are  not  recorded  by  St.  Luke — perhaps  because  they  did  not  come 
within  his  general  view-plan  of  that  Life;  perhaps  from  reverence, 
because  neither  he,  nor  his  teacher  St.  Paul,  were  within  that  inner 

1  I  cannot  see  (with  Me>/pr)  anj^  varia-  ^  Weiss  (p.  373)  assures  us  that  this 

tion  in  the  narrative  in  St.  Johii  vi.  21.  view  is  'impossible;'  but  on  no  better 

The  expression,    'they  were  willinii   to  irround  tluin  that  no  others  than  ten  dis- 

take  him   into  the  ship,'  certainly  does  ciples  are  mentioned  in  St.  Matt.  xiv.  22, 

7iof.   imply   that,    after  the    incident  of  as  if  it  had  been  necessary  to  mention 

Peter's  failure,  He  did  not  actually  enter  the  embarkation  of  the  boatmen, 
the  boat. 


PETER'S   FAITH   AND   FAILURE.  (595 

circle,  with  which  the  events  of  that  night  were  connected  rather  in     chap. 
the  way  of  reproof  than  otherwise.      At  any  rate,    even  negative      XXX 

criticism  cannot  legitimately  draw  any  adverse  inference  from  it,  in  ^- — ^. ' 

view  of  its  record  not  only  by  two  of  the  Synoptists,  but  in  the 
Fourth  Gospel.  St.  Mark  also  does  not  mention  the  incident  con- 
cerning St.  Peter;  and  this  we  can  readily  understand  from  his 
connection  with  that  Apostle.  Of  the  two  eyewitnesses,  St.  John 
and  St.  Matthew,  the  former  also  is  silent  on  that  incident.  On  any 
view  of  the  authorship  of  the  Fourth  Gospel,  it  could  not  have  been 
from  ignorance,  either  of  its  occurrence,  or  else  of  its  record  by 
St.  Matthew.  Was  it  among  those  'many  other  things  which  Jesus 
did,'  which  were  not  written  by  him,  since  their  complete  chronicle 
would  have  rendered  a  Gospel -sketch  impossible?  Or  did  it  lie 
outside  that  special  conception  of  his  Gospel,  which,  as  regards  its 
details,  determined  the  insertion  or  else  the  omission  of  certain  inci- 
dents? Or  was  there  some  reason  for  this  omission  connected  with 
the  special  relation  of  John  to  Peter?  And,  lastly,  why  was  St. 
Matthew  in  this  instance  more  detailed  than  the  others,  and  alone  told 
it  with  such  circumstantiality?  Was  it  that  it  had  made  such  deep 
impression  on  his  own  mind;  had  he  somehow  any  personal  connection 
with  it;  or  did  he  feel,  as  if  this  bidding  of  Peter  to  come  to  Christ 
out  of  the  ship  and  on  the  water  had  some  close  inner  analogy  with 
his  own  call  to  leave  the  custom-house  and  follow  Christ?  Such, 
and  other  suggestions  which  may  arise  can  only  be  put  in  the  form 
of  questions.     Their  answer  awaits  the  morning  and  the  othei-  shore. 


THE    END    OF   THE    FIRST    VOLUME. 


EXPLANATORY  NOTES. 

FOR    THE    FIRST   VOLUME. 

Page      7,  note  1:  i.e.  the  mind  of  the  one  was  settled  lil^e  men,  that  of  the  others 
unsettled  as  women. 
1 2,  note  2 :   '  Deity  '= '  Shekhinah. ' 

!t7,  note  1:  This,  of  course,  is  an  inference  from  the  whole  history  and  rela- 
tion there  indicated. 

"       98  *:    So  Mdiinoiiides. 

"  312'':  Of  course,  this  is  tlie  expression  of  a  later  Rabbi,  but  it  refers  to 
Pharisaic  interpretations. 

"  292:  for  '  temptations' read  '  temptation.'  The  ten  temptations  of  Abraham 
are  referred  to  in  Ab.  P.  3,  and  enumerated  in  Ab.  de  R.  N.  33  and 
Pirqe  de  R.  El.  26., 

"  358"=:  So  Lightfoot  infers  from  tlie  passage;  but  as  the  Rabbi  who  speaks  is 
etymologising  and  almost  punning,  the  inference  should  perhaps  not 
be  pressed. 

"  384,  note  1:  In  Vaj'y.  R.  30,  the  expression  refers  to  the  different  condition  of 
Israel  after  the  time  described  in  Hos.  iii.  4,  or  in  that  of  Hezekiah, 
or  at  the  deliverance  of  Mordecai.  In  Bemid.  R.  11,  the  expression 
is  connected  with  the  ingathering  of  proselytes  in  fulfllment  of 
Gen.  xii.  2. 

"  387,  lines  17  and  18:  On  this  subject,  however,  other  opinions  are  also  enter- 
tained.    Comp.  Sukk.  5  a. 

'•  443,  as  to  priests  guilty  of  open  sin,  the  details— which  I  refrained  from 
giving — are  mentioned  in  Duschak  Jiul.  Kultus,  p.  270. 

"  444,  note  3:  This,  of  course,  in  regard  to  an  unlearned  priest.  See  discus- 
sion in  Daschnk,  u.  s.,  p.  255. 

"  447  ^•.  Ber.  6  h.  Probably  this  was  to  many  the  only  ground  for  reward,  since 
the  discourse  was  the  Pirqa,  or  on  the  Halakhah.  lb."  Taan.  16  a: 
though  the  remark  refers  to  the  leader  of  the  devotions  on  fast-days, 
it  is  also  applied  to  the  preacher  by  Duschak,  p.  285.  And  in  note  1, 
remove  the  marks  of  quotation,  as  it  is  not  intended  as  a  literal 
translation. 

"    495  <=:  in  Vayy.  R.  leprosy  is  brought  into  connection  with  calumny. 

"  536  B;  I  refer  to  the  thanksgiving  of  Nechunyah.  See  also  the  prayer  put  into 
the  mouth  of  Moses,  Ber.  32  a.  And  although  such  prayers  as  Ber. 
16  b,  17  a,  are  sublime,  they  are,  in  my  view,  not  to  be  compared 
with  that  of  Christ  in  its  fulness  and  breadth. 

"  539  <^:  Sanh.  100  b  is,  of  course,  not  verbatim  worded.  This  would  be  in  the 
second  sentence :  '  Possibly  on  the  morrow  he  will  not  be,  and  have 
been  found  caring  for  a  world  which  is  not  his.' 

"     622,  margin,  delete  the  second  "'  iu  TN"'')"'!' 


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