The argument against Jesus' historicity has already been found to lack adequate support. Unless its advocates can offer more valid reasons for their skepticism, and can make the constructive presentation of their hypothesis agree more closely with all the data in the field of primitive Christian history, they can scarcely hope to find a substantial following. At present the prospects of success for the radical contention seem to be slight, and no necessity is generally felt even for asking, Did a historical Jesus ever live?
Yet when this question is asked can an affirmative answer be formulated sufficiently strong to prove, beyond the possibility of a reasonable doubt, that Jesus was a genuinely historical character? It may not be inappropriate to set forth some specific reasons for believing in his historicity, especially since those who adhere to the opposite view sometimes claim that they are not obliged to justify
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their skepticism unless a valid argument for historicity is advanced. We shall not be concerned to determine the full amount of reliable information about Jesus now available; we confine attention to the single issue, Did Jesus ever live?
The radicals will not allow us to point as proof to the uniformity of Christian opinion today, or merely to cite the Christian tradition of the past. They insist, and quite rightly, that not the Jesus of history but rather the risen and heavenly Christ of faith has held the central position in believers' thought from the earliest times down to the present. It is pointed out that this state of affairs existed even as early as the time of Paul, who had relatively little to say of an earthly Jesus in comparison with his emphasis upon the heaven-exalted individual who was soon to come in judgment. To be sure, it may be difficult to imagine that the Christ of faith could in the first instance have come to occupy the place he did without the reality of an earthly Jesus, but to assume this connection as a presupposition would be to beg the question at issue. In fact, those who deny Jesus' historicity maintain that it is impossible to believe in the reality of his earthly
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career just because of the very exalted place he occupied in the primitive theology. They say that memory of his human limitations would have prevented that idealization of him which is found in early tradition. Consequently we are asked to show that early Christian speculation has room for the actual career of an earthly Jesus.
On general grounds we may note that the deification of men was not unusual in this period of the world's history. And if it is objected that Jesus had done nothing to prompt belief in him as a heaven-exalted hero—that he was no world-conquering Alexander—one may say that his heroic suffering was the pathway by which he ascended to heavenly honors. If a-priori considerations are to be urged, is it not quite impossible to imagine a company of believers declaring themselves to have been companions of a fictitious person and reverencing him even to the extent of sacrificing their lives for his cause? There are two factors in this situation which distinguish it from the mythical anthropomorphizing of deities in general. The order of progress, which has already been seen to show itself in early Christian interpretation, is from Jesus the man
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to Christ the heavenly Lord; and emphasis falls upon the proximity of the events. It is true that no New Testament book may be held to give us the exact views of a personal follower of Jesus, yet the great bulk of early tradition gives the reader the vivid impression that the unique phenomena behind the New Testament faith, and the person whom it reverences, are not projected into some remote past but have appeared within the memory of men still living. On the other hand we have to admit that the New Testament may contain features created by the pious fancy of the early believers, hence a request for more specific proof that the earthly figure of Jesus is not a mere product of this interest in interpretation is not out of place.
The obscurity of Christianity's beginnings makes our task a difficult one. While there is ample evidence that the new religion was in existence about the close of the first century A.D., there is no contemporary account of its beginnings, much less such an account of the life of its alleged founder. He left no written records of his teaching, and none of the New Testament writings can be assigned with absolute certainty to the pen of a personal disciple
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of Jesus. At first the adherents of the new faith apparently had no idea of any prolonged propaganda, or of a time after the first generation of Christians should have passed away when written documents would be needed to supply information about the early days of the faith. It is now well known that the literature which purports to narrate the story of Jesus' career does not, in its present form, come from the first generation of Christians. Mark, though the earliest gospel, was written at a time when the author would be compelled to thread his way back to Jesus through from thirty to forty years of development in the thought and life of the church, and that too in a period when tradition was in its most fluid state. The other evangelists were under a similar necessity, the difficulty being perhaps greater in their case since they were chronologically farther removed from the original events. Paul's letters are the earliest extant Christian writings, yet they were not composed with any deliberate purpose of instructing posterity on questions of history, or even of expounding the content of contemporary thinking. They aim rather to meet special exigencies among the churches. Hence the modern historian
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must rely upon secondary sources in his effort to recover the Jesus of history.
It is true that the gospels do distinctly emphasize the career of Jesus, but their portrait is soon discovered to be colored by the interests of developing dogma. This necessitates a critical handling of the material in order to distinguish earlier from later phases of tradition. Mark has been found to be the earliest of the gospels, while still earlier written materials, in addition to Mark, are thought to have been used by the writers of Matthew and Luke. The Fourth Gospel is now believed to have originated last, and to have been written more especially as an interpretative account of Jesus' personality. Thus our sources of information, in inverse chronological order, are John, Matthew, Luke (or Luke, Matthew), Mark, and the non-Markan sections of Matthew and Luke which have so strong a verbal resemblance that the use of earlier common-source material may be safely assumed. With these generally accepted results of modern gospel criticism before us it might seem an easy matter to discriminate, at least in the main outlines, between later accretions and the primitive historical data. Will not the earliest document be the
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purest historically, while the other documents will be estimated according to chronological position?
This method is undoubtedly valuable as far as it goes, but it does not meet the ultimate needs of historical inquiry, inasmuch as the oldest source may quite likely be itself influenced by theological interests. The idea that there was a primitive period in the history of Christianity when doctrine was "pure," the recovery of which would give one the quintessence of Christianity, is now treated quite generally as a fiction; but is it not a kindred error to imagine an ideal period in the primitive tradition when only Simon-pure historical narrative about Jesus' life and teaching was in circulation? The earliest writer may indeed have had the best opportunity to learn the actual facts, and so his narrative will naturally be prized the most highly by historians, but what if the situation in which he found himself demanded an "interpretation" of the facts! This demand must have become evident almost at the beginning of the new community's life, and those who advocated the new faith must have early felt the desirability of rising to this occasion. Otherwise there would have been
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little incentive for them to speak and still less likelihood that their words would have been remembered.
It does not follow that the early apologetic had no basis in fact, but we must recognize that the point of view from which the framers of the tradition presented their material, as well as the controlling interest in its selection and elaboration, were largely determined by their own historical situation. And so far as our evangelists are concerned, it is evident that they were by no means solely interested in writing the bare outlines of history. Their aim was to make the history they related count in favor of the type of faith which they preached, and which appealed to them as the true interpretation of the data. What the church found itself thinking and doing, as the result of the circumstances which molded its early life, this its theologians, in all good conscience, naturally endeavored to find warrant for in the life and teaching of Jesus. Had the evangelists failed to appreciate this demand of their times there would have been but slight occasion for them to write anything, and still less probability that what they wrote would be preserved. We must grant at the outset that
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our present sources of information about Jesus are literary products framed subsequently to his career, and that they may indeed have been shaped to favor pragmatic interests. Therefore in using these documents today for purely historical purposes it is desirable to recognize at least some of the main pragmatic demands of that period.
What must the primitive Christians' gospel contain in order to insure its effectiveness in the thought-world of their day? In the first place, and above all else, it must offer an assurance of salvation. The notion of salvation did not originate with Christianity, nor was Jesus the first individual to be looked upon as a deliverer. The ancient religions of Egypt, Babylonia, and Persia all entertained the hope of salvation for humanity, and pictured more or less vividly the idea of redemption. The syncretistic faiths of the Roman world in Jesus' day show similar traits. Even the Roman poet, Vergil, voiced sentiments of this sort and seemed to think Augustus had ushered in the new age. Men everywhere hoped for deliverance, a deliverance ultimately to be effected by the deity. He alone could avert evils, destroy enemies, control fate, and give humanity a triumphant salvation.
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Among the Jews this idea became highly specialized. God would one day deliver his chosen people from their enemies, either destroying all foes or else converting them into obedient subjects of Israel's sovereign. While the hope of political freedom was still strong, the golden age awaited the appearing of an ideal earthly ruler, the descendant of the hero-prince, David. But the period of temporary political independence under the Maccabeans proved so disappointing that in some circles less thought was given to the human mediator of the divine salvation and more emphasis fell upon the divine activity itself. God would, either in person or else through a messenger of his from the spirit-world, suddenly demonstrate his power to abolish all evil and to set up a new regime in a renovated earth. In the meantime it behooved men to wait upon the divine pleasure, and thus to insure for themselves if possible a favorable reception when God should act. While there was diversity in matters of detail, the main ambition of Judaism when Christianity appeared upon the scene was to win God's favor, thus establishing for man an assurance of salvation.
Under these circumstances thought of Jesus
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after his death could scarcely have commended itself even to his disciples, much less to outsiders, had they not connected him in some substantial way with the hope of salvation. Otherwise a propaganda in his name would have been impossible. He would have been as unconditionally dismissed from further consideration as were Judas of Gamala and other discredited messianic aspirants. Nor was it possible for the first Christians to hold that Jesus' earthly life had given the actual demonstration of his saving mission, for he had died and deliverance had not yet been fully realized. In this his career was like that of Judas and the others; but he was unlike them in that the future held in store for him, so they asserted, the opportunity to effect the consummation of salvation. He was soon to return upon the clouds to establish the kingdom. However moderns may be disposed to regard this feature of early belief, it certainly was an indispensable item in the primitive interpretation of Jesus.
What had Jesus' earthly life to do with his saving mission? Seemingly very little in the earliest stages of interpretation. Even in the synoptic gospels the tardiness of his followers in attaining faith during his lifetime is everywhere
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admitted. When they do at last confess their belief in his messiahship they are still unprepared to hear of his death, they do not comprehend the reference to his resurrection, and they disband seemingly without hope after his crucifixion, all of which surely implies that whatever type of messianic hope they may have entertained for Jesus during his lifetime, his death brought about a very substantial transformation of their faith. The realization of salvation now became more distinctly an other-worldly affair, awaiting Jesus' advent in glory. The chief evidences that Jesus was the coming Messiah were not found at first in history but in the present experiences of the Christians themselves. At least in Paul's interpretation—and we have little reason to think that at this point he differed widely from other early Christians—the primary proofs offered are (1) Jesus' resurrection and (2) the spiritual gifts displayed in the lives of believers, thus attesting Jesus' present lordship.
Belief in Jesus' resurrection is fundamental to Paul's faith. He defends this belief by pointing out that it is scriptural, by citing the testimony of persons still living who have witnessed visions of the risen Lord, and finally
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by pledging his own word: "If Christ has not been raised then is our preaching void, your faith also is void; yea, and we are found false witnesses of God, because we witness of God that he raised up Christ."[1] On an earlier occasion, when defending the superiority of the new religion in comparison with the assurance which a legalistic religion offered, Paul throws out a test question: "This only would I learn of you, Received ye the Spirit by the works of the law or by the hearing of faith? . . . He therefore that supplieth to you the Spirit and worketh miracles among you, doeth he it by the works of the law or by the hearing of faith?"[2] Evidence of Jesus' lordship is thus proleptically displayed in these adumbrations of the new age soon to be ushered in by the Lord's "parousia." Hence, for Paul, to confess Jesus' lordship and to believe that God raised him from the dead guarantees salvation.[3]
It would seem, therefore, that Paul did not ask his hearers to go back into Jesus' earthly career at all for evidence of Jesus' messianic dignity. Paul did note features in Jesus' life,
[1] I Cor. 15:4-8, 14 f.
[2] Gal.3:2, 5; cf. I Cor. 12:1 ff.; II Cor. 12:12; Rom. 15:18f.
[3] Rom. 10:9.
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such as his Davidic descent and his death on the cross, which were important preliminaries in the coming savior's program, but these things in themselves did not officially authenticate him as the Messiah. By these marks alone no one could be expected to recognize in him the promised deliverer. True, Paul does think that Jesus was potentially the Messiah even before he appeared upon earth, but he did not receive the insignia of office and the final stamp of divine authentication until he was "declared to be the Son of God with power, according to the spirit of holiness, by the resurrection of the dead."[1] Almost identically the same interpretation is given in Acts 2:32 ff., where the disciples' witness to the resurrection, and the ecstatic life of the community in consequence of Jesus' exaltation, are cited as proof that "God hath made him both Lord and Messiah, this Jesus whom ye crucified."[2] Again in Acts 13:33 Jesus' resurrection is mentioned as a fulfilment of Ps. 2: "Thou art
[1] Rom. 1:4; cf. Phil. 2:9 f.
[2] Cf. Acts 3:13-15, where a miracle wrought by the disciples in Jesus' name is evidence that God "hath glorified his Servant Jesus," and where the disciples' testimony to the resurrection is again affirmed.
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my son, this day have I begotten thee." These passages must represent an early type of thinking, even though they stand in so late a work as Acts. They will not have been created in an age when the notion had become current that divine sanction had already been officially set upon Jesus at the transfiguration,[1] or previously at his baptism,[2] or even before his birth.[3]
While the disciples, on the basis of their resurrection faith and the community's ecstatic life, may have been content to wait for further proof of Jesus' messiahship in what was yet to happen, others, and particularly Jews, must have demanded a more immediate basis for faith. How could the early preachers plausibly ask their hearers to believe that Jesus would come on the clouds with a divine commission to deliver Israel? We have already noted that some Jews at this time cherished the hope of a heavenly Messiah to be sent forth from God with miraculous power to deliver the faithful. Others were willing to connect the idea of
[1] Mark 9:7 = Matt. 17:5 = Luke 9:35.
[2] Mark 1:11 = Matt. 3:17 = Luke 3:22.
[3] Matt. 1:18-25; Luke 1:26-38.
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messiahship with an earthly individual who would exemplify the characteristics of their idealized warrior-prince, David, and under God's guidance deliver Israel from political oppression. But Christians were asking the Jews to identify the heavenly Messiah of the future with an earthly individual who during his lifetime had satisfied none of the generally accepted tests of messiahship—an individual who had in fact been discredited by an ignominious death. If he had failed to meet messianic standards while on earth, it is hardly surprising that there was difficulty in anticipating for him any future display of messianic dignity. Therefore Christian interpreters were obliged not only to justify the heretofore unheard-of procedure of identifying the man-Messiah with the heavenly Messiah; but if Jesus was the Messiah to be, it was not unreasonable to demand some foreshadowings of this fact in his earthly life. These necessities, as we shall presently see, were met by exhibiting, in what must have seemed at first—at least to Jews if not to Christians—a non-messianic career of Jesus on earth, elements that had messianic significance; and this ultimately meant the transference of his saving work from
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the realm of eschatology into the domain of history.
Paul remarks that it was characteristic of Jews to demand "signs" in proof of the Christians' estimate of Jesus.[1] Evidently it was Jesus' death to which exception was taken. This seemed to Jews a mark of weakness, so they demanded signs of Jesus' power. But instead of pointing out evidences of power in Jesus' historical person, Paul replied that Christ crucified is the power of God—witness the resurrection and the charismatic endowments accompanying the propagation of the new faith. Similarly in synoptic tradition the demand for a sign during Jesus' lifetime is left unmet, so far as the actual request is concerned. The Jewish authorities sought a sign—more specifically "a sign from heaven"—but Jesus turned away impatiently with the curt reply, "to this generation no sign shall be given." Some substitutes were suggested in the tradition, such as the sign of Jonah, the signs of the times, or the sign of Jesus' resurrection; but early Christian tradition uniformly recognized that the particular type of sign demanded by the Jews as evidence that the earthly Jesus was to
[1] I Cor. 1:22 ff.
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be identified with the expected Messiah could not be historically produced.[1]
What was the real sign from heaven which Jesus so uniformly refused his own generation? It can hardly be that Mark, for example, thought the Pharisees were asking for a miracle of the sort Jesus had already performed. There would not be anything distinctive about this, for they had already witnessed Jesus' miracles on various occasions. Their request was rather for a special demonstration "from heaven" which should leave no doubt in their minds that he was the final minister of salvation, the Messiah. There was one pre-eminent sign that would satisfy the Jews, namely, for Jesus to present himself riding upon the clouds in glory. This was the one supreme test, regarded on all hands as final, for a messiahship of the type Christians were claiming for Jesus. But this proof was of course not available for those of Jesus' own generation. Christian interpretation could not make this a matter of history but must treat it as an item of faith. Thus in the narrative of Mark the "leaven" of disbelief on the part of the Jewish leaders sets off to
[1] Mark 8:11-13; Matt. 16:1-4; 12:38 f.; Luke 11:16, 29; 12:54-56.
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greater advantage the disciples' belief—tardy and faltering as it is—in Jesus' messiahship,[1] notwithstanding the unmessianic character of his career when judged by the standards of popular expectation. In Matthew and Luke, Pharisaic disbelief is similarly condemned as the trait of a generation which is "evil and adulterous."[2]
But how could the Pharisees be fairly upbraided for disbelief if they were not given a sign in support of faith? Christian apologists recognized this need, and offered, in place of the as yet impossible sign from heaven, other data which were held by believers to justify identifying the earthly Jesus with the future savior from heaven. Negatively, those features in Jesus' career which seemed to contradict this hope were explained away as divinely foreordained; while more positive evidences of Jesus' uniqueness were found in other features of his career. Not only was God's special sanction of him seen in his resurrection and his spiritual lordship over the community—the main pillars of the first Christians' faith—but early interpretation was able to exhibit sanctions
[1] Mark 8:14-21, 27-33.
[2] Matt. 12:39; 16:4; Luke 11:29.
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from God during Jesus' lifetime, and also attestations of uniqueness given more immediately by Jesus himself.
This brought about a real demand for a "Life of Christ." The earliest efforts in this direction probably were made on Jewish soil and in a Jewish atmosphere, and the items set in the foreground of the narrative were naturally those best suited to show that the earthly Jesus was worthy of messianic honors. While he was still pre-eminently the savior to come, he had also accomplished at least a preliminary saving work while on earth. But as his coming was delayed, and interest in the realistic Jewish eschatology waned, still more did Christians realize the importance of finding the chief manifestation of Jesus' saving mission in his earthly life. This evolution was a gradual one, but it is clearly observable in the New Testament. At the beginning stands Paul, with his vivid forward look warning converts that the day is far spent and the night is at hand when all shall stand before the judgment-seat of God.[1] At the other extreme is the author of the Fourth Gospel, whose faith takes a backward
[1] Rom. 13:12; 14:10; cf. I Cor. 1:7 f.; 3:13; 4:5; II Cor. 5:10.
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sweep to the time when Jesus first came forth from God to save the world by his work upon earth: "This is life eternal, that they should know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom thou didst send."[1] In John, the Christians' gaze has been almost completely diverted from the Coming One to "the Way, the Truth, and the Life," which has already been revealed.
One of the first necessities of primitive interpretation was to counteract the popular belief that certain well-known features of Jesus' career were contrary to messianic faith. His death for instance must have occasioned much difficulty. Paul made this an essential item in God's scheme of salvation, the cornerstone of the gospel of redemption. He recognized that both Jews and gentiles took offense at this phase of the Messiah's career, but he personally saw in it a demonstration of the wisdom and power of God. His language implies that he was not the first to grasp this idea,[2] yet it is doubtful whether any of his predecessors had expounded it so vigorously. At first the disciples seem to have offered no apology for this event, other than to express
[1] John 17:3.
[2] I Cor. 15:3.
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their conviction that it had happened in accordance with the divine will as revealed in Old Testament prophecy. Thus it was an integral element in the scheme of salvation, even though no one chose to phrase it as Paul did, in the language of the Jewish sacrificial system.
Perhaps a further intimation of its importance for early times is to be seen in the fact that about one-third of the Gospel of Mark is devoted to the closing scenes of the last week of Jesus' life. And this seems, too, to be a primitive phase of tradition. Jesus does not figure here even as a worker of miracles, displaying messianic powers already bestowed upon him at baptism; he is rather a messianic claimant whose credentials are to be produced in the future. Paul said, in substance, that by death Jesus performed the last act preliminary to entering upon the final part of his messianic program; according to the passion narrative of Mark, Jesus was put to death because he had while on earth expressly asserted his right to play this future part. In either case the event had saving significance, in that it was one act in the divinely arranged program of the Savior. When Jesus' death was thus disposed of, the
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way was open for a similar disposition of every troublesome feature in his career.
But God's interest in Jesus was not confined simply to those features in his life which at first sight seemed incongruous with messianic faith. Divine approvals of a positive sort were to be found in the story of Jesus' life. Whether Paul knew nothing of these, or whether he merely felt it unnecessary to go back beyond the resurrection for proof of Jesus' messianic dignity, is difficult to determine at this late date. But there were theologians, and some of them probably were contemporary with Paul, who recognized the desirability, and found themselves equal to the task, of presenting evidence from Jesus' lifetime in support of their messianic faith. Instead of pointing merely to the resurrection as the occasion when God had explicitly authenticated Jesus, they gave an account of a "transfiguration" near the close of Jesus' career when a foretaste of his approaching resurrection glory was vouchsafed to a few chosen disciples, and when the divine voice proclaimed him to be God's beloved Son whom the disciples were to "hear." It was thought by other interpreters that God had given similar testimony at Jesus' baptism; and, by
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the time the tradition contained in the infancy narratives had taken form, it was discovered that God had explicitly indicated his approval of Jesus' earthly mission even before his birth. Finally, the writer of the Fourth Gospel conceives Jesus to have been the incarnation of the pre-existent, divine logos, sent from God.
For Christians these were veritable signs from heaven, but they were not directly available for outsiders. They had to be mediated by believers. While Jews were familiar with the Old Testament prophecies in which foreshadowings of Jesus' death were found, there was a wide difference between the current and the Christian interpretations of these Scriptures. Furthermore, God's approval of Jesus at transfiguration and at baptism had, at least in the earliest tradition, to be taken purely on the testimony of believers. Only in later forms of the narrative are such evidences made available for the public, as in the Matthean version of the baptism, where the voice speaks about Jesus rather than directly to him as in Mark. Also in the Fourth Gospel, John the Baptist had been divinely instructed regarding Jesus' messiahship, and the multitude were the auditors when God announced the glorification of the Son in
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John 12:28 ff. But even had these items been in circulation earlier, it is doubtful whether they would have satisfied the actual demands of the situation. Not only would opponents ask for more objective proofs of messiahship from Jesus' own personal life, but Christians themselves must have felt a similar desire when once it was believed that Jesus' messiahship had been divinely attested during his earthly life, and that certain features in his earthly career were an integral part of his saving work. One of the earliest passages expressing God's approval of Jesus contains the injunction "hear ye him."[1] This carried with it the idea of a unique message delivered by the Son. Nor could interpretation be satisfied with anything less than explicit statements from Jesus himself, if these could possibly be obtained, asserting his uniqueness. Furthermore, Jesus as the Son who already at baptism is the object of the Father's good pleasure must needs display in his career a special type of conduct. Hence more detailed evidences of Jesus' messiahship
[1] Mark 9:7; cf. Acts 3:22 f. It must have been an early interpretation which first placed God's authentication so late in Jesus' career, rather than at his baptism. It has indeed been suggested that the transfiguration story was originally a resurrection narrative (cf. Wellhausen, Das Evangelium Marci, Berlin, 1903, p. 77).
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are found in (1) his prophet-like teaching, (2) his specific messianic claims, and (3) his mighty works. These items are all of the nature of self-attestations on the part of Jesus, in comparison with those authentications given more immediately by God.[1]
Evidently Jesus' teaching was brought forward at a relatively early date to demonstrate his supremacy. In a synoptic passage usually thought to come from the earliest common-source material used in the composition of Matthew and Luke,[2] when messengers from John the Baptist request Jesus to testify concerning himself, the climax of his reply is, "The poor have the gospel preached to them, and blessed is he whosoever shall not find occasion for stumbling in me." As these words now stand in our gospels their original force apparently has been somewhat weakened by taking literally the previous statements about giving sight to the blind, healing the lame, cleansing the lepers, curing the deaf, and raising the dead.
[1] The latter apparently were the earlier interest, e.g., with Paul (cf. also Acts 2:32; 3:15) God raises Jesus, but in Mark Jesus simply "rises"; in Acts 2:22 Jesus' miracles are works which "God did by him" (cf. Matt. 12:28 = Luke 11:20—a "Q" passage), but in Mark it is Jesus' own authority which stands in the foreground.
[2] Matt. 11:2-6 = Luke 7:18-23.
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In the first instance this language probably was intended to describe the beneficent qualities of Jesus' message, like that of the prophet Isaiah cited by Jesus in Luke 4:18: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor, etc." Emphasis upon Jesus' prophetic preaching rather than upon his miracles, as the distinctive mark of his saving work, is characteristic of the primitive non-Markan source material. It is here that the men of Nineveh who "repented at the preaching of Jonah," and the queen of the south who came to "hear the wisdom of Solomon," are promised precedence over the men of Jesus' own generation in the day of judgment.[1] Similarly at the beginning of his public career, when it is suggested that he appeal to miracles in order to test his divine sonship, he emphatically refuses the challenge.[2] Not only are miracles of Jesus rarely mentioned in this section of gospel tradition, but his ability in
[1] Matt. 12:41 f.; Luke 11:31 f.
[2] Matt. 4:1-11 = Luke 4:1-13. It is noteworthy that Mark slurs over this phase of the tradition, evidently feeling it to be inconsistent with the prominence given to miracles in the Markan narrative. Even the temptation incident has been retouched by Mark, seemingly in favor of the miracle interest. At least the ministration of angels has been introduced, while in the earlier source Jesus had positively refused to invoke their aid.
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this respect is implied to be not essentially different from that of other righteous men in Israel.[1] As proof of his superiority, mighty works did not appeal to the framers of this primitive type of tradition so much as did the spiritual and prophetic quality of Jesus' teaching. This is a perfectly natural situation, for Jews did not find the uniqueness of their great men primarily in their ability to work miracles, but in the fidelity with which they uttered the word of God.
A similar method of showing that Jesus was to be identified with the Messiah to come is seen in Acts, chap. 3. His earthly career had not been one of brilliant messianic display, and his death had taken place in accordance with prophecy (vs. 18). He had figured as the suffering servant of God, who was later glorified through the disciples' witness to his resurrection and through miracles wrought in his name (vss. 13-15). In heaven he now awaited God's pleasure in bringing about the time for him to appear in his full messianic rôle (vs. 20). His earthly life had been "messianic" only in the sense that he was the prophet like unto Moses whose coming the great lawgiver had foretold. His mission, therefore, was to speak to Israel
[1] Matt. 12:27 = Luke 11:19.
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the word which should prove a blessing by turning them from their iniquities. It was Israel's fatal mistake not to have hearkened unto "that prophet" (vss. 23 and 26). Here again the very content of the tradition forbids that we credit the author of Acts with its first composition. The use of a source has to be assumed for this as for similar primitive elements in the Third Gospel.
The necessity of placing Jesus beside Moses and the prophets must have been early felt, particularly in Jewish circles. This interest is served by picturing Christianity's natal day as a time when the earth trembled and the Spirit, like fiery flames, came upon believers, with the result that all foreigners in Jerusalem at the time heard the gospel preached in their several tongues. The prototype of this scene is Mount Sinai trembling and aflame when the law is delivered to Israel, and when, according to Jewish Midrashim, the law had been proclaimed in seventy different languages to as many different nations, though accepted by none but Israel. Thus God acts as marvelously in the founding of Christianity as in the establishment of Judaism; and Moses figures much less significantly than does Jesus, whose heavenly
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exaltation is itself the basis of the Spirit's activity. But even in Jesus' lifetime Moses and Elijah—representing the "Law" and the "Prophets"—appear in conversation with Jesus on the Mount of Transfiguration. Here Peter, who has been spokesman for the disciples in their recognition of Jesus' messiahship, now proposes to make three tabernacles, "one for thee, one for Moses, one for Elijah."[1] When the new religion became conscious of its own existence, its founder of necessity took precedence over the ancient Hebrew worthies.
This phase of Christian thinking inevitably grew in importance as Christianity remained for some time in close contact with Judaism. It was desirable to recall that Jesus' teaching had been superior to that of the rabbis, and that he had in fact excelled all scribes, sages, prophets, and lawgivers of old. It could be said of the scribe: "He will seek out all the wisdom of the ancients, and will be occupied in prophecies. He will keep the discourse of the men of renown, and will enter in amidst the subtilties of parables. He will seek out the hidden meaning of proverbs, and be conversant in the dark sayings of parables."[2] Yet more
[1] Mark 9:4 f. = Matt. 17:3 f. = Luke 9:30-33.
[2] Sir. 39:1-3.
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could be said of Jesus. He was not merely an interpreter of other men's proverbs and parables, but was himself the author of teachings so subtle that even his own disciples understood him with difficulty and outsiders were completely mystified.[1] Other teachers might expound the wisdom of the older sages, but Jesus excelled even Solomon, the most highly esteemed of the Hebrew wise men.[2] Jesus' understanding of the prophets was not only superior to that of contemporary teachers, but he was himself the fulfilment of prophecy and the author of a new dispensation in which even the more lowly members were greater than the last and greatest of the prophets of Israel.[3] He was also an authoritative expounder of the law, even to the extent of criticizing its enactments regarding, for example, sabbath observance and divorce.[4] Yet many early Christians did not feel that the new faith meant the abrogation of the law, and they regarded as least in the kingdom all who, like Paul, taught men to discard Mosaic injunctions. On the other hand, Jesus was the new messianic lawgiver
[1] Mark 4:9-12.
[2] Matt. 12:42 = Luke 11:31.
[3] Matt. 11:9-11 = Luke 7:26-28.
[4] Mark 2:27; 10:5 f.
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who, by way of fulfilling rather than abrogating the Mosaic dispensation, placed his word above that which they of old time had spoken.[1] Hence Jesus was naturally described as exemplifying many superior traits of personality, surpassing even Moses. Josephus probably represents current Jewish opinion when he describes Moses as a prophet whose like had never been known, so that when he spoke you would think you heard the voice of God himself; while his life was so near to perfection that he had full command of his passions, and knew them only by name as perceiving them in others.[2] Ultimately Christian tradition was able to say of Jesus that "never man spake as this man" and no one was able to convict him of sin.[3] Christian interpreters were, from an early date, under pressure to give Jesus first place in the gallery of Israel's greatest worthies.
As a foreteller of coming events Jesus figures quite uniquely. It was very desirable that he should be thus presented to men of that age. The same Deuteronomic passage in which the primitive Christians found Moses' prediction of
[1] Matt. 5:21-48.
[2] Ant., IV, viii, 49.
[3] John 7:46; 8:46.
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Jesus also provided a test for determining the validity of any individual's claim to be the promised prophet: "When a prophet speaketh in the name of Jehovah, if the thing follow not, nor come to pass, that is the thing which Jehovah hath not spoken; that prophet hath spoken it presumptuously, thou shalt not be afraid of him."[1] It had to be shown that Jesus met this test, else it would have been vain for Christians to present him to the Jews as the fulfilment of Moses' prophecy. Accordingly gospel tradition notes that he predicted his death, his resurrection, the destruction of the temple, disaster for the Jewish nation, and his own return in glory—all items closely connected with his messianic program.
The desirability of presenting evidence of Jesus' predictive powers may have been enhanced by the siege and fall of Jerusalem. As Josephus looks back upon that disaster he notes many premonitory signs, and blames the Jews for not giving heed to these.[2] Among other things he affirms that soldiers had been seen running about among the clouds, which, he naïvely remarks, might seem doubtful were it not that those who actually saw the thing
[1] Deut. 18:22.
[2] War, VI, v, 3.
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bore testimony to its occurrence. There was also at Pentecost one year a quaking of the earth and a great noise followed by a supernatural, warning voice. But clearest and most terrible of all was the utterance of one Jesus, son of Ananus, who, four years before the war began, proclaimed woe upon Jerusalem, and upon the people, and upon the holy house. This he continued to cry for seven years and five months "without becoming hoarse or growing tired," until finally he was killed in the siege. Then Josephus concludes: "Now if any man will consider he will find that God takes care of mankind, and by all ways possible foreshadows to our race what is for their preservation." This doubtless was current belief in Josephus' day, though many Jews might not accept his specific application of the principle to reflect discreditably upon their leaders whom he describes as "men infatuated, without either eyes to see or minds to consider" the denunciations made to them by God.
We may say that Josephus found his signs and made his interpretation to suit his needs, but Christians also passed through the trying experiences of those days and were none the less under the compulsion of adjusting their
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thinking to the historical events—events so terrible that they seemed to presage the end of the world. Since Jesus was believed to have stood in unique favor with God, and was the one to bring in the new age, it was very desirable that Christians, during the momentous events attending the siege and fall of Jerusalem, should recall such words of Jesus as seemed to point to this event and to indicate the manner in which history would issue. It was fortunate for believers that they were able to recall Jesus' predictions of disasters, and to assure themselves that he believed these disasters to be merely preliminary to the consummation of his own kingdom. We have already observed that Jesus' mighty works are not greatly emphasized in the early non-Markan tradition. They do, however, occupy a prominent place in the Gospel of Mark, particularly in the account of the Galilean ministry. While the specific need which first prompted a rehearsal of Jesus' miracles is somewhat uncertain, the pragmatic interest which they serve in the Markan narrative is quite evident. After baptism Jesus shows himself to be the Spirit-filled Son of God, who first resists Satan's attack and then goes forth to display his triumph over the forces of
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this evil age by casting out demons, healing the sick, and transcending the limitations of nature generally. In this he is not merely exhibiting traits suggested by comparison with Old Testament worthies like Moses and Elijah. These individuals were on occasion granted the exercise of miraculous powers, but in Jesus' case this ability is more distinctly his own prerogative. There are intimations that in some of the tradition Jesus' power was less immediate. Peter at Pentecost describes Jesus as "a man approved of God unto you by mighty works and wonders and signs which God did by him in the midst of you,"[1] and again in the Beelzebul incident Jesus affirms that he casts out demons "by the finger of God."[2] But in Mark's representation Jesus' self-sufficiency stands in the foreground, the only conditioning factor being that of "faith." Nor are Jesus' miracles here put forward primarily as "signs" to stimulate belief. In the Fourth Gospel they are precursors of faith; in Mark they are regularly the consequent of faith. Thus for the Second Evangelist Jesus' miracles are not merely messianic credentials, but are a beneficent outflowing from the person of the Messiah
[1] Acts 2:22.
[2] Luke 11:20; cf. Matt. 12:27.
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whose presence already brings the blessings of the new age within the reach of believers and near-believers. The disciples do not always understand the significance of Jesus' activity, but the demons do, for they perceive with alarm that God's deliverer is at hand. In the "temptation" he conquered their leader, Satan, and now he proceeds by exorcism, healings, and various triumphs over nature's limitations, to despoil Satan's domains.
This conception answers in a general way to the Jewish notion of the blessings to attend the Messiah's appearing, but it is phrased more immediately in terms of Christian experience within the primitive community. Paul believes that this present evil world is coming to naught through the victory of the Spirit in the lives of Christians, and that its final collapse will take place when the Messiah comes in glory. According to Mark the fatal shock was felt when Jesus began his saving ministry after his baptismal endowment by the Spirit.[1] At a time when
[1] Cf. the Lukan tradition, which represents Jesus as seeing the earnest of this victory in the miracle-working career of his disciples. When they return and report their success in exorcism—though significantly enough tradition merely generalizes on their activity in this respect prior to Jesus' death—he replies: "I was beholding [eqewroun] Satan falling as lightning from heaven" (Luke 10:17-20).
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men thought themselves victims of all sorts of evil powers, it meant much to feel that the new religion gave the Spirit-filled believer victory over these foes. And the Markan representation of Jesus' activity will have served a most beneficial purpose in reminding the later generation that the spiritually endowed Messiah had exemplified ideally this conception of victory over the powers of the evil one.
While Jesus' significance for salvation is clearly the central interest of early interpretation, there doubtless were many subsidiary interests at work even in the early period. The individual bias of various writers, current Jewish as well as heathen religious notions, Christian use of the Old Testament, the political events of the age, the problems raised by the gentile mission, the developing organization of the church, the appearance of heretical teachers, these and similar forces will have left their stamp upon the growing evangelic tradition. For an accurate historical estimate of details in the gospel narratives, these items would need to be scrutinized more closely. But for the more general question of Jesus' existence they need not detain us, since they were clearly secondary and contributory to the
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main interest of showing Jesus to be the well-authenticated mediator of the divine salvation. Whether primitive interpretation does or does not allow a place for the historical Jesus may be determined from a consideration of this central feature of early thinking. In comparison with this, other items are of minor importance.
Summarizing the results of the above survey, it appears that interest in recording fully the events of Jesus' career did not manifest itself at the very beginning of the new religious movement. At first, thought was directed mainly toward the future when Jesus would come to introduce the new age. Christian preachers announced the approach of the end, the transitoriness of present relationships, the near advent of the heavenly Messiah. But since they identified this coming one with Jesus, making belief in his messiahship the test of admission to the new community, they could not altogether dispense with the historical background even in their dogma. Especially was this true when they entered upon an evangelizing propaganda. For those whose belief rested upon a personal vision of the risen Lord, historical proofs were more a luxury than a necessity. But these individuals were relatively
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few in number and belonged at the very beginning of the new religion. The spiritual gifts in the life of the community were more widely observable, and seem to have been put forward at an early date as attestations of the new faith. But all these experiential evidences needed to be supplemented, especially for outsiders. Accordingly reflection upon Jesus' earthly career enabled interpreters to claim for him evidences of the divine approval, and to set forth traits of his own which had high self-attesting worth. At the same time his genuinely saving activity became more and more closely associated with his career upon earth. Thus ultimately the historical horizon of interpretation was broadened to take in Jesus' entire life from the manger to the tomb.
It has seemed desirable to dwell at some length upon these pragmatic phases of early Christian thinking, since sometimes it is assumed that a full recognition of these interests necessarily carries with it a strong probability against, if not an outright denial of, Jesus' historicity. But the results of our inquiry point in a very different direction. In the first place they serve as a warning against the error of supposing that the framers of
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Christian tradition in the early days always recorded all they knew about Jesus. We may sometimes be tempted to read our desire for full historical information back into the minds of the New Testament writers, and thus unjustly to affirm that they knew only so much of a historical Jesus as they recorded. This argument from silence is a most precarious one. Moreover, variations or inconsistencies in different interpretations of Jesus do not necessarily imply non-historicity for his personality. Even if one could justly claim that the gospel picture of him is so truncated and distorted as to be impossible in reality, it would not follow that he never actually lived but only that primitive pragmatism was using him to serve its own interests. It is too much to expect that we can find a full and perfectly uniform portrait of the earthly Jesus in our present sources; nor, on the other hand, do these deficiencies compel us to pronounce the entire tradition historically worthless. The primitive theologians selected and preserved those features of the history which best served the interests of their day, even though the result was an incomplete picture of Jesus, from the standpoint of historical perfection.
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Indeed it is very probable that interpreters in the early period would be compelled to adhere rather closely to history, in so far as they dealt with items which had come under the observation of their contemporaries. Only as time removed the actual occurrences into the shadows of the past could freely idealizing tendencies be brought into play. But it does not follow that Christians themselves would be deterred by this fact from taking a reverential attitude toward the risen Lord. They were not making the earthly Jesus the object of their worship; this they were rendering to the heavenly Christ, who had become what he was through the direct agency of God. Furthermore, the early believers found the ground for their own faith in personal experience rather than in historical data. It may be psychologically necessary to presuppose for them a high estimate of the earthly Jesus as a basis for the resurrection faith, but it is not absolutely essential for this estimate that they should previously have been conscious of Jesus' deity, nor does primitive tradition suggest that they were. The failure of the disciples to perceive in Jesus' personality while he was with them on earth the significance which they later attached
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to it is quite generally recognized in the earliest parts of the gospels. In the first stage of the post-resurrection faith reverence was justified mainly by God's attestations of Jesus, and not until later reflection had done its work did believers come to appreciate that Jesus during his earthly career had really displayed qualities which made him worthy of the later faith. Then the disciples understood that they had been slow to comprehend his significance—a fact which they candidly admitted.
It follows therefore that they had a distinct recollection of an earthly individual with whom they had associated, yet without placing upon him at that time the particular form of interpretation which was later evolved under the inspiration of belief in his resurrection. We are not to infer that this individual had not strongly impressed himself upon the memory of the disciples, and that he was not held in high esteem by his associates, though this esteem may not have been fundamentally doctrinaire in type. Of course the earthly Jesus' personality may well have prompted some "doctrinal" reflections among his followers in those days of vivid messianic expectations, and the subject may have been discussed by Jesus himself, but any
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conclusions to which such reflections may have led seem to have been pretty generally shattered by Jesus' death. That which remained with the disciples was the recollection of his words and the memory of his individuality, and these ultimately proved sufficiently substantial to support the superstructure of the resurrection faith and the doctrine of the heavenly Messiah.
While gospel tradition, arising under these circumstances, might seem to be primarily a history of early Christian doctrine, there were forces working both within and without the community compelling interpreters to adjust their thinking to the actual Jesus of history. Opponents of Christianity would not permit them to ignore the data of history, especially such items as could be made to reflect unfavorably upon the new faith. And within the community, where there was less need to prove doctrinal tenets, believers, in their daily fellowship with one another, naturally found themselves recalling scenes from the life of Jesus and words spoken by him while he had lived in personal association with those disciples who were now the inspiration of the new community-life.
It is therefore not intrinsically improbable that we shall be able to find important historical
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information about Jesus in our present gospels, no matter how generally we admit the possibility of pragmatic influences at work in the period when the gospel tradition was taking shape. When, in our modern use of the New Testament writings, we are merely concerned to discover historical data regarding Jesus, we must attach most importance to those features of tradition which seem to have occasioned early interpreters difficulty, or which are not closely linked with the peculiar doctrinal interests of the primitive apologetic. If our aim were to ascertain every available historical item in Jesus' career it would be necessary to make detailed application of this test to the whole gospel history, but since our immediate purpose is merely to obtain historical evidence for belief in Jesus' actual existence, only the more primitive phases of the tradition—Paul's letters and the earliest gospel materials—need be examined minutely.
Go to The Historicity of Jesus by S.J. Case table of contents.