You are here

Introductory: Recapitulation and Statement of the New Question

§ I. The Old Problem

THE principles elucidated in the past discussions have now to be applied to a problem which is all the more philosophical that it is so historical and particular, viz., the interpretation of the relation between the Founder of the Christian religion and the religion He founded. What is involved in this new discussion may become more obvious if we resume the successive stages of the argument which has led up to it.

i. The argument started with an examination into what is meant by the idea of Nature, and whether it can be used to deny the being and action of a supernatural Reason. What may be termed the primary premiss may be stated either thus:—the interpreter of nature is also its interpretation; or thus:—the problem of individual is one with that of collective experience. The fact of knowledge was found to imply a transcendental factor which justified the inference as to the ultimate and causal reality of thought. From the correlation of the intellect and the intelligible, or of rational man and an interpretable universe, it was argued that they must have had as their common ground a creative Intelligence, who had used the visual language we call nature to speak to the incarnate reason we call man.

ii. This primary premiss was next expanded into the position that man was not simply a being who knew, but a person who acted, that his actions could be qualitatively distinguished, that he felt the obligation and possessed the power to choose the good and avoid the evil; and that as the intellect implied an intelligible, so man as a moral person involved a moral universe, while the two in their concordance and concurrence justified the belief in a moral order. According to the first argument God was to be interpreted in the terms of the reason; according to the second, in the terms of moral sovereignty or of conscience and will; while bath arguments conducted to the conclusion that the relations between the Creator and the creature must be active, continuous and spiritual.

iii. The third step in the argument was a discussion of the gravest of all the facts which a believer in moral order can face—the fact of evil. The rational and moral creature had behaved as an imperfect and inexperienced being, which he was, and not as a perfect and eternal being, which he was not; and so his earliest attempts at using his freedom had been by the indulgence of self-will, whence had come evil and the suffering which disciplined. But while evil owed its being to man, it had only increased what was termed the responsibility of God; in other words, it was impossible to conceive that infinite goodness would cease to seek to help and heal the creature whose being it had willed, because that creature had been so misguided as to choose the evil rather than the good; and if divine action on behalf of man continued, how better could it be described than as continuous creation?

iv. The argument then moved forward from nature and man in the abstract to nature and man in the concrete, living together, acting and interacting on each other, nature as physical environment, man as the moral and social organism we speak of now as society and now as state. This carried us into the field of history, and it was contended that the ideas of law and progress which had made nature interpretable and had organized its interpretation into the collective physical sciences, must be valid here also, or they could have no validity anywhere. But though we were bound to conceive order and unity, co-ordinated movement and change in the common life of man as in universal nature, yet they must be conceived as operative under appropriate forms, i.e. forms proper not to physical energies, but to thought, to reasons, emotions, consciences, wills, or simply to man and mankind. But what history exhibits is a creative process rather incomplete than completed. Biology has to construct the succession and filiation of organic forms by an act of retrospective imagination; but history, though it has to deal with an immeasurable past, yet can study the forces that make for evolution, producing the moral, the social, and the religious forms of the present. We may then distinguish the two arenas thus:—in nature where new organisms have ceased to appear, evolution may be said to have accomplished its work; but in history the work is still only in process, and waits final accomplishment. Here, then, is the field where the Creator's continued activity finds its fitting sphere and its products are (1) the ideas creative of human progress and unity, and (2) the persons through whom they come

v. But the ideas that do most to evoke and to organize the humanity latent in man are those embodied in his religions, and so here if anywhere the continued activity of the Creator can be studied. It is indeed a mediated activity, conditioned by the medium in and through which He works. And so its forms had to be analyzed, viz., the notion of religion, its sources, the method in which it does its work, the causes and conditions which affect the many shapes it assumes. In all religions men think of deity, and as they think they worship; and in all they believe themselves to influence him and to be influenced by him. And the voice of Nature is here the voice of truth.

vi. From religion in the abstract the discussion moved into the field of the concrete, its history; attempted to find what had made and kept religions national; and what had impelled, out of all the multitude of local or tribal religions, only three to seek to transcend the nation and become missionary. The ideas of a religion were, it was argued more capable of translation and diffusion than its institutions, which tended as local and tribal to hedge off the people and to hinder the distribution of their faith. Analysis further showed that the national religion which possessed the most universal idea—the Hebrew—was as much limited as any by the usages which the fanaticism of the people jealously guarded and observed, as if they constituted its very essence and was therefore, by being placed under rigorous tribal restrictions, prevented from realizing its idea. The emancipation of this idea, and its embodiment in a religion at once universal and missionary, was in a special and peculiar sense the achievement of Jesus Christ.

vii. But if the Christian religion is conceived as the achievement of Jesus Christ, it owes its existence to a person, and thus falls into the category of instituted or founded religions. Indeed, the three which have been described as “missionary” had all a personal origin; and each has had its special character or creative and constitutive idea determined by the person who gave it being. Hence the question as to the relation between the religion and its founder is not peculiar to Christianity, but is common to the class as a whole, and so belongs to the province of comparative history and philosophy. Approached from this point of view it was found that while an historical person and his creative acts were presupposed in the religion, yet it could not in any real sense begin to be without some form of apotheosis by the community. Institution or creation was thus a process due to the concurrence of two distinct factors, which may be described as, respectively, personal and communal. These gave to the founder a significance at once historical or real, and intelligible or ideal; while without the pursue here or entirely ignore. The most important of them is the literary and historical criticism of the oldest Christian literature. This criticism takes the literature as a corpus or body of scriptures which has to be studied and explained through its sources, historical and personal, through language and thought, through social and religious movement? antecedent and contemporary tendencies and events. Once it has showed us how the literature came to be, in what order it was written, at what date, by what men, in obedience to what impulse, for what end, its work is done,—its problem is solved. But our question is at once larger and more radical. The literature is to us the scheme of a religion and the story of its founding; and as such it is even more organically connected with the future than with the past. We have to study it not as a fact to be explained, but as a factor of events which without it would be without any explanation. What concerns us is indeed still history, but it is a history whose temporal and spatial relations have been so widened as to become universal and eternal. What we seek to gain is not simply the mind of a contemporary, or the knowledge of the exact conditions which produced each document and of the world it reflects; but also to discover the seeds and causes of the ideal world in which we dwell. We do not cease to use criticism, for by determining the nature and value of our sources it governs the degree and the certainty of our knowledge; but its canons do not measure for us the religion which the literature it handles at once describes and enshrines. For this we have to study it in the light of collective religion, or as it lives in the medium of the human spirit and answers to it, and as it stands on the stage of history, living and behaving as its creative ideas command.

§ III The Criticism of the Literature and the Person

The literature, as related to our subject, falls into two main divisions,—one, the Gospels, concerned with the personal history of Jesus; the other, the apostolical writings, including the Acts, concerned with the interpretation of His Person as the Christ, The former show us what manner of man the Founder of the religion was; the latter what the thought of His people conceived Him to be and what they accomplished in His name. But the chronological relations of these divisions are not the same as their historical. In the order of time the person precedes the interpretation; but the books which interpret Him are older than those that narrate His personal history. The most certainly authentic documents in the New Testament, contemporary with the events they describe or refer to, are not the Gospels, but certain Pauline Epistles; and of these the first must have been written about 50 A.D., and the last could hardly have been later than 62. Of the non-Pauline Epistles the greatest and the weightiest, Hebrews, belongs probably to about the year 70, while near it in point of date stands a work of, possibly, inferior theological importance, the Apocalypse. In these we have what may be termed a completed Christology, though the only Gospel that existed in the year 70, if, indeed, it did then exist, was that of Mark. He is one of the Synoptists, the other two, divided from Mark by periods, probably, of from ten to fifteen years, being Matthew and Luke, who use the same material and present, with significant differences, the same view of the Person and His History. Now, it may seem a. strange inversion of the natural order, and certain to involve: perversions of fact, that we should have had the speculative construction before the actual and personal history; but it can only so seem to a hurried and inconsequent thinker. For

i. The literature here follows the strict order of nature, or the laws of exact thought. There was at first no question as to the history of Jesus, His birth, life, doctrine, sufferings, death; but there was from the very outset the sharpest differences as to what He was, why He was, and what He did. And this was a question that had to be fettled in order that His Society should know whether it was to die or to live.

ii. The extraordinary activity of apostolical thought concerning the Person did not imply neglect of the history; on the contrary, it involved continual occupation with it. So much, indeed, is this the case that it is quite impossible to understand the Epistles without the Gospels; the logic of the former assumes at every point the history of the latter. Were a scholar unacquainted with the Gospels to read the Pauline writings, with their references to the birth, descent, character, love, righteousness, grace, cross, death, and resurrection of Christ, he would find them utterly unintelligible, not only because he did not know who this Christ was, where He had lived, what He had been and claimed to be, but also because the very man who writes and the persons he writes to, with their special ideas, questions, and arguments, would be inexplicable without Him. And if the Gospels are so necessary to the reader of the Epistles, can the history they record have been less necessary to their writer? And if so construed, do the Epistles not authenticate the history they assume, though not perhaps the books that describe it in the form in which they have come down to us?

iii. Criticism has enabled us to analyze the Synoptic Gospels, to discover the documents that underlie them, the use they have made of common sources, narrative and didactic, their relation to each other, and their respective modes of dealing with the history on the one hand, and the logia, the notes or memoranda of addresses, parables, or conversations on the other. These things indicate the method of the historian: the men do not invent their material, but find, arrange, and set it in order. And here as the Gospels are needed to illuminate the Epistles, the Epistles are needed to supplement the Gospels and bring out their distinctive features. It is remarkable, indeed, how distinct their provinces are, how little of the oral or written material which the evangelists employ finds its way into the Epistles, and how few of the distinctive formulae or the special terms and problems which exercise the earlier apostolical writers are incorporated with the Gospels. And there is another and parallel fact to be explained. In 70 A.D. Jerusalem fell and with it the Jewish State. However much it signified to the Jew, it signified to the Christian no less. It meant that the city that had refused to hear, and cast out, mocked and crucified the Christ, had perished in its pride, that God had avenged its guilt and vindicated His innocence. It meant that the home of the influences most hostile to the Church had been razed to the ground. Yet in the two later Synoptic Gospels the event leaves hardly a trace on the history. It may be involved in certain texts or references in the apocalyptic addresses, but these can be removed without seriously affecting the narrative. The effect on contemporary Judaism we can study in the pages of Josephus; or, to cite a parallel case, we can see in Augustine's De Civitate Dei the influence which the fall of Rome exercised on both Christian and pagan thought. Yet the fall of Rome stood in no such obvious tragic relation to the church of Christ as did the fall of Jerusalem to His death; and had no such evident and immediate significance for the religion. That the Gospels were so little affected in texture and in matter by inner movements and outer events, is a point which students of cognate and contemporary influences in literature will be able to appreciate.

iv. History does not lose but gain in accuracy and truth by being mediately rather than immediately written. The last and most trustworthy historian is not the eyewitness, but the man who can question him, and who can through the issue read character, action, and event with greater intelligence than he. The most accurate and informing history is not the diary, but the discourse of the writer who sees not simply the salient feature of each person or occurrence, but sees also each thing as it is and all the things together. And when we come to study the Gospels together, we see how much time has done for the perspective which gives to each figure in the scene its due place and proportion. The sense of the causation and connexion of events has grown in the Evangelists. Mark is more of the simple narrator than either of the other two; he tells what he has heard rather than what he has seen, writes, as Peter was wont to speak, the simple yet picturesque words which describe Jesus “by the sea of Galilee,”1 calling Peter and Andrew, “James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother,” casting “the unclean spirit” out of the man, healing “Simon's wife's mother, who lay sick of a fever,” sitting “at even, when the sun did set,” with the sick and the possessed of devils around Him “and all the city gathered at the door.” This is the thing an eyewitness, or the man who reports an eyewitness, can do, and Mark does it perfectly. His pen realizes the scene, and we see Jesus as He was, and as only a pen which followed the tongue of a speaker describing experiences too vivid to be forgotten, can show Him. With Matthew and Luke the atmosphere is different; Jesus is more an historical figure with roots in the past and relations in the present, and less a person loved for His own sake and with His reason in Himself. The antitheses are more sharply conceived; in Matthew he fulfils the law and opposes the Pharisees, in Luke He befriends the poor, the publican, and the sinner; and in both His world is, whether in retrospect or prospect, as large as the history of man.

v. And here, we may observe how the enlarged and enriched thought of the apostolical writings has affected the atmosphere and the setting as distinguished from the matter of the Gospels. The author of Matthew has affinities with the Epistle to the Hebrews, though his affinities are those of a Palestinian rather than a Roman or Alexandrian Jew; but Luke's are more Pauline. Matthew, like Hebrews, reads the New Law through the old, though his symbolism is more historical than institutional, more in things and incidents than in ideas and forms. Hence his genealogy begins with Abraham, and comes down through David to Joseph the husband of Mary.2 The child is named Jesus, for “He shall save His people from their sins.”3 He “is born King of the Jews”4 and every event of His childhood fulfils a prophecy.5 And as then, so throughout He begins His ministry like a new Moses proclaiming on the Mount a law which speaks in beatitudes rather than in curses,6 yet He comes to fulfil the old and not to destroy it.7 He forbids His disciples to go into the way of the Gentiles, for His mission is to the lost sheep of the house of Israel,8 and His message tells that the kingdom of heaven has come.9 Yet this particularism is only the prelude to a richer universalism. For many are to come from the east and the west and sit down with Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob in the kingdom of heaven,10 while the sons of the kingdom are cast forth into outer darkness; and His final commission is to make disciples of all nations.11 Luke is more distinctly Hellenistic, but his Hellenism is that of the Greek rather than of the Jew, He interprets Jesus and His history through the Pauline idea of the Second Adam, and construes Him throughout in universal terms. His genealogy runs back to Adam, “the Son of God.”12 He is born as it were a citizen of the Roman Empire.13 The message of His birth promises glory to God in the highest, and peace to man on earth.14 He begins His ministry by reading a prophecy which identifies Him with the Servant of God and the cause of the poor and the oppressed.15 And the great parables peculiar to Luke repeat and emphasize these ideas. He impersonates in the Good Samaritan Christ's everlasting rebuke to the vanity and heartlessness of the priest and the Levite.16 He leaves the Pharisee speaking his own shame in the temple, while He sends the publican home justified.17 He bids the everlasting Fatherhood in the man who had two sons, both graceless, yet both sons still, rebuke the caste of the scribe and the isolation of the sectary.18 And in the story of the rich man and Lazarus he gives dignity to poverty and makes all wealth which is proud of itself as mere wealth feel vacant and vain.19 The same ideas are embodied and made articulate in such incidents, also distinctive of Luke, as the woman of the city, a sinner, in the house of Simon the Pharisee, with its lesson pointed by the appended parable;20 the conversion of the chief publican, Zacchaeus,21 and the scene in the house of the sisters Martha and Mary.22 These are all though peculiar to Luke, yet authentic and characteristic. Mark would hardly have seen their significance, nor would the original witness whose version he repeats. Matthew had no eye for them, because they did not help to unfold his leading idea. But Luke, with a finer imagination, a more skilful pen and a wider outlook than either, preserved acts and words whose loss would have made us appreciably poorer; yet because they are so germane to the mind and purpose of the historian, they but add an illustration to the point, that the more a man brings to a history the more he can find in it, and also the better help us to find-more there.

§ IV. The Religion and the Literature

1. The criticism of the literature may, then, be necessary to the discussion of our problem, but it is not by itself sufficient for its solution. On the contrary, it may be so pursued as to make any reasonable solution impossible. Thus a recent critic has found in the synoptists only five “absolutely credible pas sages about Jesus in general.”23 These are His refusal to be called “good,” for “no one is good save God only”24; the blasphemy against the Son of Man, which “shall be forgiven”25; His relation to His kinsfolk when they held Him to be beside Himself26; the profession of ignorance as to the day and the hour which were known only of the Father27; and the cry of desertion on the cross.28 To these he adds four passages “on the miracles of Jesus.” The refusal to work a sign29; the inability because of unbelief to do any mighty work at Nazareth30; the warning of the disciples to “beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Herod,”31 which is, as it were, the title of a parable turned into a miracle; and the message to the Baptist touching His miracles32; where Jesus is made to speak “not of the physically but of the spiritually blind, lame, leprous, deaf, dead.”33 These nine passages are called “the foundation-pillars for a truly scientific life of Jesus.” But what claim have they to be regarded as a solid basis for any “scientific life” which must explain not only the life that ended on the Cross, but also the work accomplished by the Crucified in and for mankind? They are mainly negative; and it is only when viewed through a larger context and an atmosphere which they themselves do not create, that they gain any positive significance whatever. They show what Jesus was not, what He could not know or do, they do not show what He was or did. Yet of all real things the most positively real, the most efficient and continuous in its recreative action, is His Person; and to attempt to explain it by nine negatives, made the more absolute by appearing in one or two cases in a positive form, is only to resolve it into a more darksome mystery than before. And this is only a type of the illusion that mistakes critical ingenuity for historical science. Another and more common is that which seeks in the words of Jesus the entire truth as to Himself and His mission. Truth is there, but truth is conditioned by the medium it employs and the minds that hear it as well as by the mind that speaks it. We cannot indeed know too much of His mind and thought; but, let us frankly say it, it is not here that His sole pre-eminence or our main problem lies. His work and meaning as a religious Teacher belongs to exegesis and comparative literary criticism; but our discussion is philosophical and historical as well as theological, for it relates to the position and function of Christ as a sovereign personality in religion. As a teacher there are many men in many lands and times with whom He may be compared; but as a creative and sovereign personality there are m the whole of history only two or three, if indeed there are so many, with any claim to stand by His side. As a Teacher He is a natural person, with historical antecedents, a social environment, a religious ancestry, and a position honourable but not unique amid the great masters of mind; but as a sovereign personality He is a new Being, without father, or mother, or genealogy, separate, supreme, creating by His very appearing a new spiritual type or order. As a Teacher we can easily conceive Him as a Jew and a peasant, the lineal descendant of the prophets and near of kin to the rabbis of Israel; but there is no harder intellectual task than to relate the sovereign personality to the Jewish peasant, his antecedents and environment. But this correlation is the very thing which must be attempted if all the phenomena are to be explained; for if anything is certain, it is this:—the teaching of Jesus, however its qualities may be described or appraised, can never by itself explain the power of Christ, the reign, the diffusion, the continuance, and the achievements of the Christian religion. And these are the things which stand in need of explanation; not simply what Jesus thought and why He thought it, but why men came so to think concerning Him as to create the religion which bears His name. Can the religion be without the idea of the Christ which made it? And was this idea a mythical creation, a mystic dream, an ignorant superstition, the inference of an imperious but illiterate logic? Or if not, what was it?

2. There are, then, distinctions both of issue and of fundamental principle between our problem and the questions raised by the literary and historical criticisms of the New Testament. These may be said to move within a special period and to be concerned with its literature and its contemporary history. They have for their aim to show us what manner of person Jesus of Nazareth was, whence He had come, how and under what influences He had been formed, how He lived, behaved, thought, spoke; how He was handled, spoken to, judged; what character He realized, what fate He encountered, what evil He suffered. But in all this they enquire simply concerning an empirical person, whom they look at from the standpoint of empirical history. In the strict sense Jesus did not so much create the Christian religion as cause it to be created. When He died, the creative process had only begun. Though He had so exemplified the spirit and character of the religion as to be entitled to the name of the first Christian, yet it is one thing to embody an ideal and another to constitute the faith which is to secure its embodiment. What the men who had followed Him believed Him to have accomplished, is written in their history. They did not mean to cease to be Jews; their discipleship did not divorce them from their ancestral worship, its customs, its sacred places and seasons. They frequented the temple, observed the Jewish hours of prayer, the regulations as to meats, circumcision, purification, sacrifices even;34 and seemed indeed to contemplate nothing more than to add another to the many sects which had made themselves at home in Judaism. What changed their outlook and action was the interpretation of Christ's person; and it was by something more divine than a sure instinct that it was made to occupy a larger space in the New Testament than even the words of Jesus. By the time the Gospels came to be written the religion had become a reality, the creative process was well advanced, if not completed. And what gives to the Gospels their peculiar significance is that they are Lives of Jesus by men who believed that Christ had created Christianity. The empirical person is, though without losing His historical environment, yet transfigured into a transcendental personality. The natural is neither abolished nor depreciated, but it is read in terms of the supernatural. The struggle of the modern spirit is the exact converse of this; it is to get behind the faith of the Evangelists, and read the history they wrote with the vision they had before their eyes were opened. Yet there is a history which the book has made as well as a history which it records; and it is doubtful whether it be the note of the historical spirit to take a book out of the history it has made and to study it as if all its significance lay in the history that made it. For it is the faith which the book embodies more than the facts it states, that has placed upon its brow the crown of an illuminative history. Only as we read it in this faith can we know it as a book of religion, and it is as such a book that we here seek to know it. We do not, indeed, forget that the book has a natural history of its own, according to which it must, like any other piece of literature, be rationally judged; all we here desire to emphasize is the fact that the very process which produced it created a religion, and the book is not justly or even critically studied if this double process is forgotten.

§ V. The Founder and the Religion

1. The point of view here occupied does not seem to us either unscientific or uncritical; on the contrary, it is the standpoint to which philosophy has driven us. We have already examined some of the assumptions which underlie the modern belief in the inviolability of natural law,35 but with us it is a fixed principle that violation of law, properly so called, is a thing impossible to God. The distinction between the natural and the supernatural, as it meets us in the field of nature, we have also considered;36 but now we must review it as it confronts us in the field of history. The terms, indeed, as used here denote no true antithesis, but express ideas that are rather complementary than opposed. The supernatural is not identical with the extraordinary, the abnormal, or the miraculous; nor is the natural synonymous with the regular, the orderly, or the uniform. Each may be said to be the other under a different or changed aspect. The supernatural is the ideal, the universal, the causal existence, the permanent reality, or however we may choose to name it, which binds nature and man together, and determines the tendencies that reign in history, as well as the ideas that, govern men. The natural is the apparent, the phenomenal, the unit in its isolation and distinctness, the thing in its separateness as opposed to the organism which is a living whole. Hence the natural by itself, if by itself it can be conceived, is uniform, therefore unprogressive and uncreative; its changes can be expressed in the terms of physical equivalence, but not of moral motive or spiritual impulse. But when it becomes the visible image of the supernatural, the body to its soul, it grows creative, progressive, ceases to be uniform, and becomes as varied yet as orderly as a movement of the reason. And this relationship is most perfectly realized in history, for here the form the supernatural assumes is the personal, and the person is by nature at once empirical and transcendental. As empirical the person is a unit; as transcendental he belongs to a whole, and thinks in the terms of the universal. As empirical he is a creature of time and space, comes of a given race, is born at a given time in a given place to a given family, inherits a given past, is fashioned by a given present, and is a factor of a given future; but as transcendental his affinities are all with the eternal, and all his work is for it. Yet these things are not opposites, they are the integral and constituent parts of a single being; but the factors are not always equal, or as forces in equilibrium. Now the one and now the other rules; and the more the higher rules the lower, the more is the person the vehicle of the universal, i.e. the larger is the part of God in the making of the man and in his actions. Without the natural the supernatural would have no foothold in history, no means of translating its ideals into realities, or of guiding and impelling upward the life of man; without the supernatural the natural would constitute no order and know no movement towards a moral end. Whether, then, there is anything supernatural in a history is not a matter to be decided by the play of critical formulæ on a literature, nor by the study of periods or events in isolation. It belongs to the whole, and is to be determined as regards any special person by his worth for the whole and by the degree in which he is a factor of its good. Applied to Jesus Christ this means that He is not a problem in local but in general history, not in a special but in all literature, not in one but in universal religion; and that if He is to be interpreted, it must be in the terms of humanity, and not merely in those of Judea or Jewish Hellenism. He is a natural Being, or He could not be historical; but He is also supernatural, otherwise He could not hold His sovereign position, or exercise His universal functions. And these, as matters of experience and not simply of speculation, must be enquired into as real things.

2. If the problem, as now explicated and defined, be formulated for purposes of discussion, it will be found to fall into three main questions.

I. The historical person and action of Jesus: what He was, what He designed to be and to do, what He became, and what He did. The discussion will here be concerned chiefly, though not exclusively, with the representation of Him in the Synoptic Gospels.

II. The interpretation of Jesus as the Christ: or how His Society conceived Him, and what it became through conceiving Him as it did. In this case we shall be mainly occupied with the apostolical writings, under which is included the Gospel according to John.

III. How the religion which came to be through the union of the historical action with the theological interpretation of His Person, stands related to the idea of religion given in the nature of man and unfolded in the course of his history. This question will carry us back into the fields of the comparative History and Philosophy of Religion.

  • 1.

    Mark i. 16–34.

  • 2.

    Matt. i. 1–16.

  • 3.

    i. 21.

  • 4.

    ii. 2.

  • 5.

    i. 22; ii. 5, 15, 17, 23.

  • 6.

    v. 3–12.

  • 7.

    v. 17.

  • 8.

    x. 5, 6.

  • 9.

    iv. 17; x. 7; xiii. 24, 31, 33, 44, 45, 47

  • 10.

    viii. 11, 12; cf. xxi. 43, xxii. 1–14.

  • 11.

    xxviii. 19.

  • 12.

    Luke iii. 38.

  • 13.

    ii. 1, 2.

  • 14.

    ii. 14.

  • 15.

    iv. 18

  • 16.

    x. 25–37.

  • 17.

    xviii. 9–14.

  • 18.

    xv. 11–32.

  • 19.

    xvi. 14, 19, 31.

  • 20.

    vii. 36–50.

  • 21.

    xix. 2–10.

  • 22.

    x. 38–42.

  • 23.

    Schmiedel, Encycl. Bibl., pp. 1881–1883.

  • 24.

    Mark x. 17, 18.

  • 25.

    Matt. xii. 31, 32.

  • 26.

    Mark iii. 21.

  • 27.

    Mark xiii. 32.

  • 28.

    Mark xv. 34; Matt, xxvii. 46.

  • 29.

    Mark viii. 12; Matt, xii. 39; cf. xvi. 4; Luke xi. 29.

  • 30.

    Mark vi. 5,6; cf. Matt. xv. 38.

  • 31.

    Mark viii. 14–18; cf. Matt. xvi. 6

  • 32.

    Matt. xi. 5; Luke vii. 22.

  • 33.

    Encycl. Bibl., 1883.

  • 34.

    Acts of Apostles ii. 46; iii. 1; v. 42; x. 14; xv. 5; xxi. 26.

  • 35.

    Ante, pp. 23 ff.

  • 36.

    Ante, p. 56.