Did Jesus Rise

By James H. Brookes

Chapter 9

 

UNWILLING WITNESSES.

HE story of the resurrection is inseparably linked, as previously shown, with the moral character of Jesus, and with the entire structure of the sacred Scriptures. If He again and again predicted that He would rise, and after all He did not rise, of course His claim upon our respectful attention or confidence at once ceases, and He is to be regarded as a base impostor or crazed enthusiast. If on the other hand, He did not predict His resurrection, although his four biographers say that He did, of course they are not worthy of the slightest credit in any statement they make. If He predicted His resurrection, but did not rise, we are at a loss to account for His benign influence upon the world, according to the confession of His very enemies, and for the powerful hold He has taken upon the faith and the affection of the most enlightened peoples for eighteen hundred years. If He did not predict His resurrection, but His biographers put words into His mouth which He never uttered, we are at a loss to account for their ability to conceive such a faultless and marvellous character, for the lofty morality and virtue they everywhere enjoin, for their admitted power to elevate and reform the vicious and the vile, and for their sufferings unto death in the propagation of what they knew to be a lie.

"Peruse the works of our philosophers, with all their pomp of diction," says one: "how mean, how contemptible are they, compared with the Scriptures! Is it possible that a book, at once so simple and so sublime, should be merely the work of a man? Is it possible that the sacred Personage, whose history it contains, should be himself a mere man? Do we find that he assumed the tone of an enthusiast or ambitious sectary? What sweetness, what purity in his manner! What an affecting gracefulness in his delivery! What sublimity in his maxims! What profound wisdom in his discourses! What presence of mind, what subtlety, what truth in his replies! How great the command over his passions! Where is the man, where the philosopher, who could so live and so die, without weakness and without ostentation?.. Shall we suppose the evangelical history a mere fiction? Indeed, my friend, it bears no mark of fiction. On the contrary, the history of Socrates, which no one presumes to doubt, is not so well attested as that of Jesus Christ. Such a supposition, in fact, only shifts the difficulty without obviating it: it is more inconceivable that a number of persons should agree to write such a history, than that one should furnish the subject of it. The Jewish authors were incapable of the diction, and strangers to the morality contained in the gospels; the marks of whose truth are so striking and inimitable, that the inventor would be a more astonishing character than the hero." Those who are not familiar with this quotation might suppose that the fine eulogy of Jesus, which it contains, must have been written by some distinguished divine. Not at all: It was written by Rousseau, an avowed infidel who gloried in his shame.

"It is of no use," writes another, " to say that Christ, as exhibited in the gospels, is not historical;". . . for "who among his disciples or among their proselytes was capable of inventing the sayings ascribed to Jesus, or of imagining the life and character revealed in the gospels? Certainly not the fishermen of Galilee; certainly not St. Paul, whose character and idiosyncrasies were of a totally different sort; still less the early Christian writers, in whom nothing is more evident than that the good which was in them was all derived, as they always professed it was derived, from a higher source. . . . About the life and sayings of Jesus there is a stamp of personal originality combined with profundity of insight, which, if we adandon the idle expectation of finding scientific precision, where something very different was aimed at, must place the prophet of Nazareth, even in the estimation of those who have no belief in his inspiration, in the very first rank of the men of sublime genius of whom our species can boast. When this pre-eminent genius is combined with the qualities of probably the greatest moral reformer and martyr to that mission who ever existed upon earth, religion can not be said to have made a bad choice in pitching on this man as the ideal representative and guide of humanity; nor even now would it be easy, even for an unbeliever, to find a better translation of the rule of virtue from the abstract into the concrete, than to endeavor so to live that Christ would approve our life." Please observe this last statement: " nor even now [that is, after eighteen hundred years of culture and progress] would it be easy, even for an unbeliever, to find a better translation of the rule of virtue from the abstract into the concrete, than to endeavor so to live that Christ would approve our life." It might be supposed that this strong language was used by some able theologian. Not at all: it was written by John Stuart Mill, an atheist, if he was anything. (Three Essays in Religion, pp. 253-255). " It was reserved for Christianity," says another, " to present to the world an ideal character, which, through all the changes of eighteen centuries has filled the hearts of men with an impassioned love, and has shown itself capable of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments, and conditions; has not only been the highest pattern of virtue, but the highest incentive to its practice, and has exerted so deep an influence that it may be truly said that the simple record of three short years of active life has done more to regenerate and to soften mankind than all the disqusitions of philosophers, and than all the exhortations of moralists. This has indeed been the well-spring of whatever has been best and purest in Christian life. Amid all the sins and failings, amid all the priestcraft, the persecution, and fanaticism which have defaced the church, it has preserved in the character and example of its Founder an enduring principle of regeneration." It might be supposed that this was penned by an eloquent preacher of the gospel. Not at all: it is the production of Lecky, the rationalistic historian of Rationalism, who has exhibited extreme bitterness in his hostility to the Bible, and in his opposition to the faith held by Christians.

"I will not say," writes another, "that the belief that Jesus was the Messiah is the only article of belief necessary to make men Christians. There are other things doubtless contained in the revelation he made of himself, dependent on and relative to this article, without the belief of which, I suppose Christianity would be very defective. But this I say, that the system of religion which Christ published, and his Evangelists recorded, is a complete system to all the purposes of religion natural and revealed. It contains all the duties of the former, it enforces them by asserting the divine mission of the Publisher, who proved his assertions at the same time by his miracles; and it enforces the whole law of faith by promising rewards, and threatening punishments, which he declares he will distribute when he comes to judge the world. . . . Christianity as it stands in the Gospel contains not only a complete but a very plain system of religion. It is in truth the system of natural religion, and such it might have continued to be to the unspeakable advantage of mankind, if it had been propagated with the same simplicity with which it was originally taught by Christ himself. . . . The political views of Constantino in the establishment of Christianity, were to attach the subjects of the empire more firmly to himself and his successors, and the several nations which composed it to one another, by the bonds of a religion common to all of them; to soften the ferocity of the armies; to reform the licentiousness of the provinces; and by infusing a spirit of moderation, and submission to government, to extinguish those principles of avarice and ambition, of injustice and violence, by which so many factions were formed, and the peace of the empire so often and so fatally broken;" and "no religion was ever so well proportioned, nor so well directed, as that of Christianity seemed to be, to all these purposes." It might be supposed that this was composed by some thoughtful Christian Professor to be delivered to the students of a Divinity School. Not at all: it is the language of Lord Bolingbroke, the boldest blasphemer, and one of the vilest men, of his day. "I know men," exclaims another, " and I tell you that Jesus Christ is not a man. Superficial minds see a resemblance between Christ and the founders of empires, and the gods of other religions. That resemblance does not exist. . . . Everything in him astonishes me. His spirit overawes me, and his will confounds me. Between him and whoever else in the world, there is no possible term of comparison. He is truly a being by himself. His ideas and his sentiments, the truths which he announces, his manner of convincing, are not explained either by human organization or by the nature of things. His birth, and the history of his life; the profundity of his doctrine, which grapples the mightiest difficulties, and which is of those difficulties, the most admirable solution; his Gospel, his apparition, his empire, his march across the ages and the realms, everything is for me a prodigy, a mystery insoluble, which plunges me into a reverie from which I can not escape, a mystery which is there before my eyes, a mystery which I can neither deny nor explain. Here I see nothing human. . . . The soul is sufficient for him, as he is sufficient for the soul. Before him the soul was nothing. Matter and time were the masters of the world. At his voice everything returns to order. Science and philosophy become secondary. The soul has reconquered its sovereignty. All the scholastic scaffolding falls, as an edifice ruined, before one single word — faith. What a master and what a word, which can effect such a revolution! . . . Who is the insensate who will say no to the intrepid voyager, who recounts the marvels of the icy peaks which he alone has had the boldness to visit? Christ is that bold voyager. One can doubtless remain incredulous, but no one can venture to say it is not so. . . . I search in vain in history to find the similar to Jesus Christ, or anything which can approach the gospel. "It might be supposed that this was the impassioned declaration of some Evangelist. Not at all: it was the speech of Napoleon Bonaparte, who was far enough from being a Christian practically, but whose gigantic intellect was altogether too acute and vigorous to be content with the nonsense of infidelity.

"Repose now in thy glory, noble Founder," says another. "Thy work is finished; thy divinity is established. Fear no more to see the edifice of thy labors fall by any fault. Henceforth, beyond the reach of frailty, thou shalt witness from the heights of divine peace, the infinite results of thy acts. At the price of a few hours of suffering, which did not even reach thy grand soul, thou hast brought the most complete immortality. For thousands of years the world will depend on thee! Banner of our contests, thou shalt be the standard about which the hottest battle will be given. A thousand times more alive, a thousand times more beloved, since thy death than during thy passage here below, thou shalt become the corner-stone of humanity so entirely, that to tear thy name from this world would be to rend it to its foundations. Between thee and God, there will no longer be any distinction." It might be supposed that this is the ardent expression of some enthusiastic Christian, ready to die for the object of his love. Not at all: it is the utterance of the French infidel, Renan.

Another, who had received tidings of his father's death, wrote to his mother, " We, your children, whom you have faithfully cared for, soul and body, and brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, we gather round you in this solemn hour, and say. Be of good comfort! Well done, hitherto; persevere and it shall be well! We promise here, before God, and the awful yet merciful work o God's hand, that we will continue to love and honor you, as sinful children can. And now, do you pray for us all, and let us all pray in such language as we have for one another, so shall this sore division and parting be the means of a closer union. Let us and every one know that though this world is full of briars, and we are wounded at every step as we go, and one by one must take farewell and weep bitterly, yet 'there remaineth a rest for the people of God.' Yes, for the people of God there remaineth a rest, that rest which in this world they could nowhere find . . . I can not be with you, but read in the Scriptures as I would have done. Read, I especially ask, in Matthew's gospel, that passion, and death, and farewell blessing and command of Jesus of Nazareth; and see if you can understand and feel what is the 'divine depth of sorrow,' and how even by suffering and sin man is lifted up to God, and in great darkness there shines a light. If you can not read it aloud in common, then do each of you take his Bible in private and read it for himself." It might be supposed that this was a message of some absent Pastor to an afflicted family. Not at all. It is the advice of Thomas Carlyle, an English infidel if his biographer Froude can be believed, who declares that he said to him late in life concerning the miraculous occurrences of sacred history, "It is as certain as mathematics, that no such thing ever has been or can be," the poor old man utterly failing to see that mathematics can have nothing to do with miracles.

Another says of Jesus, "Consider what a work His words and deeds have wrought in the world. Remember that the greatest minds have seen no farther, and added nothing to His doctrine of religion; that the richest hearts have felt no deeper, and added nothing to the sentiment of religion; have set no loftier aim, no truer method than His of perfect love to God and man. Measure Him by the shadow He has cast into the world — no, by the light He has shed upon it. Shall we be told such a man never lived — the whole story is a lie? Suppose that Plato and Newton never lived. But who did their wonders and thought their thoughts? It takes a Newton to forge a Newton. What man could have fabricated Jesus? None but Jesus. . . . That mightiest heart that ever beat, stirred by the Spirit of God, how it wrought in his bosom! What words of rebuke, of comfort, counsel, admonition, promise, hope, did he pour out! Words that stir the soul as summer dews call up the faint and sickly grass." It might be supposed that some devout believer wrote this in praise of his Lord. Net at all: it was written by Theodore Parker, an American infidel.

"It has been said, "exclaims another," and with some commendations on what was called my liberality, that I did not in this discourse, on its first delivery, term Jesus of Nazareth an impostor — I have never considered him such. The impostor generally aims at temporal power, attempts to subsidize the rich and weak believer, and draws around him followers of influence whom he can control. Jesus was free from fanaticism; His was a quiet, subdued, retiring faith; He mingled with the poor, communed with the wretched, avoided the rich, and rebuked the vain-glorious. . . . He courted no one, flattered no one; in His political denunciations He was pointed and severe; in His religion calm and subdued. These are not characteristics of an impostor; but, admitting that we give a different interpretation to His mission, when 150,000,000 believe in His divinity, and we see around us abundant evidences of the happiness, good faith, mild government, and liberal feelings which spring from His religion, what right has any one to call Him an impostor? That religion which is calculated to make mankind great and happy can not be a false one." It might be supposed that this was spoken by some one who had previously confessed his faith in Christ. Not at all: it was uttered by M. M. Noah, a distinguished Jew in New York City.

Another says of Jesus: "We are far from reviling His character, or deriding His precepts, which are indeed, for the most part, the precepts of Moses and the prophets. You have heard me style Him the 'Great Teacher of Nazareth,' for that designation I and the Jews take to be His due. No enlightened Jew can or will deny that the doctrines taught in His name have been the means of reclaiming the most important portions of the civilized world from gross idolatry, and of making the revealed word of God known to nations, of whose very existence the men who sentenced Him were ignorant. " It might be supposed that this was stated by a converted Jew, as a reason for his acceptance of Christianity. Not at all: it was spoken by Dr. Raphael, an eminent Jewish Rabbi.

Another says, "As little as humanity will ever be without religion, as little will it be without Christ. . . . He remains the brightest model of religion within the reach of our thought; and no perfect piety is possible without his presence in the heart." It might be supposed that this came from the pen of some Christian defender of the gospels. Not at all: it came from the pen of Strauss, the great German infidel, who did all in his power to destroy the faith of men in the credibility of the gospels.

It is needless, however, to go further in this direction. Testimony of a similar kind could be multiplied indefinitely; and the marvel is that such language was used. If Jesus did not rise, He was an impostor or fanatic, and in either event, what business had these men, who did not believe that He rose, to utter lofty panegyrics upon one not worthy of the slightest respect or notice, according to their view of His character? Infidelity asserts that preachers of the Gospel are fools or hypocrites, but it dare not bring such a charge against its own admired authors; and let it explain the fact that its chief exponents have not hesitated to speak of Jesus in terms not less enthusiastic, and it must be taken for granted, not less sincere than any theologian who has ever lived. Surely if they believed that He lent Himself to the perpetration of a fraud in pretending that He would rise, or that He was carried away by a silly delusion in saying that He would rise, consistency and logic required them to dismiss Him with contempt from their attention; and it remains a profound mystery how they could despise His claims upon their faith, and yet employ expressions about Him little short of the deepest reverence and highest worship.