SECTION X

the teachings of Christ, especially the parables

Christ stood in the world with the pure heart, and so with the pure, simple vision, of the Man from heaven. Therefore He beheld God in spirit, His own Father. His course of life was in the perfect light of God, which was concentrated in Him, and made Him the Light of the world. The divine decree shone upon His soul like the clear daylight. But He beheld men in the world erring and perplexed, enchanted in ruinous delusion through the dazzling lights and shadows which sin forms from the light of the eternal train of beings in the universe, and through the spirit and world-destroying influence of selfishness (Egoismus). He saw them lost and walking in darkness; therefore He was continually striving to enlighten them by the light of His Spirit. And since the light easily becomes to those in darkness ‘a deeper night,’ it was always His task to mediate the life of His Spirit, as the light of the world, with the life of the world’s thoughts.

When truth takes the form of mediating, it becomes teaching (doctrine). The teacher as such is a mediator between the light that is entrusted to him and the eyes of the spirit which he has to illuminate with this light. He must construct a bridge between the heights of knowledge and the low level of germinating thought. But as Christ is generally the Mediator between God and humanity, so is He also specially, as a teacher, the Mediator between the divine counsels and human thought. He is the Teacher: this is involved in His whole character; this He proves by His ministry and operations.

In discharging His office of Teacher, He employs various forms of teaching, as they suited the various relations in which He stood to His hearers, and the inner constitution of these hearers themselves.

When He first of all met with men who had not yet entered into close discipleship with Him, the form of His teaching is dialogue, a distinct interchange with those around Him in accordance with social life. In this dialogical interchange He particularly engaged when He had to do with adversaries. Hence it is evident why this form predominates in the Gospel of John; for John made it his special task to exhibit the most important conflicts between the Prince of Light and the children of darkness. The dialogical words of Christ were in the highest degree important, full of life, and therefore abounding in similitudes. But if the men who heard Him entered into more definite intercourse with Him, He proceeded to the use of other modes of teaching. He then spoke to them in parables, in adages or maxims, or in the free spiritual form of thought, in the form of didactic discourse.

The relation between the thought and its sensible representation is always different in these three forms of teaching. In the parable the sensible representation decidedly predominates, and the thought retires into the background, although for thoughtful hearers it speaks through the powerful imagery of the parable. In the adage (Gnome) the image appears in living unity with the thought, the one penetrated by the other. Lastly, in didactic discourse the thought predominates, yet figurative allusions sparkle throughout the whole current of the discourse, in a manner suitable to the most living and richest spiritual utterances. We should now have to consider these three forms of teaching in the order stated, if it were not our business to dwell some time longer on the symbols. This will lead us to consider, in the first place, the two latter forms of teaching. Their contrast to the first decides this arrangement. We first of all see by what mode of teaching Christ mediated the truth among the consecrated and initiated, and then how He mediated it among the uninitiated.

In the circle of those hearers who had a peculiar susceptibility for His doctrine, and followed Him with personal regard to the lonely mountain district, whom He therefore could regard as consecrated, Jesus taught many times in adages or religious maxims, in apophthegms which presented great truths in sharp, fresh, luminous forms, which oftentimes are more or less symbolic.¹ The adage forms a sentence enclosed in itself and rounded off, the form of which is expressed with the sharpness and freshness of life like an accomplished human individuality, and its thought profoundly ideal and rich like the essence of a human personality, and in which this deep thought constitutes with this beautiful form a living unity like soul and body in an animated, speaking human countenance. The entire adage is form, and yet again it is altogether thought; a thought in luminous freshness; as in a precious stone the matter, the form, and the light appear in noble unity. With such jewels or pearls Christ presented the consecrated among His hearers.

But to the initiated who had become His friends, Christ spoke in the free form of religious, spiritual expression, in the living dialectic style of instruction. As the spirit is exalted above nature, so is the pure, free utterance of the spirit exalted above the symbolic form. But the living spirit in its energy does not break away from nature in order to indulge in abstract thinking, but takes it into its life, transforms it, and causes it to bear witness of its own essence. And thus the Spirit of Christ shows itself in His teachings; they are intermixed with parables and apophthegms. But these parables rise immediately into the light of the great living thoughts by which they are illuminated and sustained. Thus Christ acted towards the children of the spirit.

But He pursued quite a different course with the uninitiated. To such hearers, who were attracted by the power of His personality, or outwardly were for a long time attached to Him, but in whom a disposition of coarse worldliness and an impure interest more or less prevailed, He spoke in parables. Crowds of such men might gather round Him on the sea-shore from among the fishermen and publicans at Capernaum. But, especially at a later period, His adversaries at Jerusalem confronted Him with such dispositions as induced Him to teach in the form of parables.

But on what account the Lord taught in parables before such uninitiated men, we shall learn from the very conception of a parable, as well as from His own distinct explanation. We shall also learn it from the effects which the parables continually produced.

The parable is a figurative form of representation in discourse, which we must distinguish from other forms that have an affinity to it. All figurative forms rest upon the infinite abundance of comparisons which arise from the similarity and relationship of all phenomena, or rather from the unity of the spirit, which establishes all these similarities. All things are reflected in all things, since they are all allied to one another by their relation to the common basis on which they rest, and to the one object which they aim at, and to the one creative Spirit in whom they live (Rom 11:36). But the special mirror of the whole world is man, since the world appears concentrated in him; and the world is the counter-mirror of man, since his spirit’s inheritance extends throughout its immensity. Hence all comparisons are crowded into human life as their focus. Hence it comes to pass that man surrounds himself, by means of discourse and art, with images; in this manner he surrounds himself with signs of the ideality of the universe and of his own being. But the comparisons which man forms in his discourse may be exhibited in a well-defined series.

First of all we are met by the similitude of fleeting appearance, or rather accord, that is, Metaphor. It is formed from the endless play of similarities, from the harmonious relations of the harp of the universe. It proceeds from the intimate relationship of the fundamental tones of life; but the most delicate glances and flashes of similarity are sufficient to produce it. Metaphors are the flowers of speech, the butterflies on the field of the spirit. Their number is legion; for as many million times as the heavens are reflected in the sea, all things are reflected in all, and especially in the spirit of man. Further, we meet with similitudes of a related form of life, namely, Allegories. Allegory represents one thing by another, another by another, in a definite, marked formation.² But it connects the image and the object not in a purely arbitrary manner, but is conditioned by the similarity of the forms of life. Thus the four horsemen in the apocalyptic vision (vi.) riding on their four horses, one after another, are allegorical figures closely corresponding to the different forms of the course of the world. But if we go beyond the phenomena of life to contemplate the similitudes of the inner man, first of all similitudes of the natural or also of the moral sense come under our notice. They are represented by Fable. Fable is fond especially of representing the reverse side of the ideal, the accidental, the arbitrary and perverted. But how can evil find its like in nature since the substance of all things is good? Evil is certainly in itself null, dark as night, and only like itself. But evil is in the human world in nature-life, and assumes the form of nature-life, and also as disease assumes organic forms and modes in the human organism. By this likeness to nature which evil gains in man, it gains also its similitudes, and these exist most abundantly in the animal creation. In the animal creation very numerous reflections are to be found of human virtues and vices. Hence it is that fable often exhibits unideal human life in idealized animal life, or the animal similarities of man in the human similarities of the animal. When man loses the spirit and becomes like the animal, it is fair that the animal when it represents him should gain his faculty of speech. When Balaam lost the spirit, his ass gained the language of reproof, which represented his overborne conscience. Fable has indeed a wider range than the one we have noticed, but it is its constant peculiarity to exhibit the manifestations of the natural disposition of man. It lies in the nature of the case, that it seizes this disposition in its salient points, in its characteristic traits, and exhibits it with a touch of irony and with a moralizing tendency. It therefore frequently aims at improving the distorted side of the spiritual by the light side of the natural. For, as similitude, it aims at the adjustment of the disposition it represents with the whole world besides. But the ideal value is wanting to it, inasmuch as it wants the nature of man, the self-will, the moral obliquity, or even the moral principle. This value announces itself in the similitude of the ideal being, in symbol. The world in its state of rest, or as pure creation, is a system of divine ideas which proceed from the highest idea, the revelation of God in His Son, to branch themselves out and descend into the phenomenal world in definite ideal characteristics of life. On this truth rests the essence of symbol. Every phenomenon, namely, is necessarily a copy and sign of all ideal life which lies upon the same line with it in the direction of the Invisible. When, therefore, such a phenomenon is combined with the ideal being of which it forms an offshoot in the phenomenal world, a symbol is formed.³ If once a conception of this heavenly ladder has been formed, it will be easy to trace the lines of many phenomena into the Eternal. So a rock in its earthly appearance presents a firm front against the swelling sea, and is an image of firmness against the flood of human instability. In the apostolic rock-man (Peter), and in the Lord, who is a Rock, the ideal essence of it is found again. But the glorification and life’s fulness of this firmness appears in another symbolical application of stone, since it proceeds from stone to precious stone, and from this to the heavenly splendour of the mystic precious stones (Rev. 21.) But the flowing sea is not only found again in the billows of the heathen nations (Psa 93:4; Rev 13:1), but also in the sanctified human life of the world, in the infinitely strong and wave-like sympathy of those who unfold their power only in the spirit of the Christian community (Rev 19:6). The dew-drop, the tear of the earth, points upwards to the pearl, the pearl to human tears, and these to the pearls on the gates of the eternal city of God; glorified sorrow forms the entrance to the residence of eternal joy (Rev 21:21). But in the same way of symbolic we may go from above downwards, when, setting out from the primary ideas of life, we descend and seek out the phenomena in which they are copied. Thus, for example, we can proceed from the four primary forms of the divine life of Christ in the world to the four Evangelists, and from these to the four cherubic life-images. So clearly and powerfully do those ideal primary lines go through the world; so distinctly does the Divine everywhere resound in significant symbols of the phenomenal world. The grain of wheat, the dove, the vine, and the marriage feast, are symbols of eternal verities in the kingdom of God. But since that Word in which the fulness of God is expressed, became flesh in Christ, so He is necessarily the symbol of all symbols, and surrounded by a garland of most expressive single symbols in which His own being is reflected. These symbolical relations are revealed by the world in its state of rest. But when contemplated in motion, it appears as the theatre of spiritual facts. These also are represented in figurative forms, and their similitude is the parable. This, therefore, is a form of discourse which represents in a sensible manner an universal, world-historical, religious and spiritual fact, by the exhibition of a special, related, or similar fact.⁴ Such are the parables of the Pharisee and publican, of the good Samaritan and other similitudes, which exhibit in single pictures never to be forgotten the greatest and most general religious and ethical facts. But in general the parable is formed in a situation, in which a single figure meets the teacher wherein he beholds that image of the moral world; and it is expressly designed to display to his hearers their whole spiritual position in the world as in a reflected image. The parable is therefore a practical view, by which the teacher causes his hearers to look into their entire spirit-world and its relation to opposite modes of spiritual life; and it may on this account be called a parable, because it suddenly places before the hearer, or circle of hearers, the living image of the world in which he may view himself. The parable constitutes the highest form of figurative similitudes in discourse.

These similitudes, therefore, are seen by us in an ascending line. But here, as everywhere, it is in conformity to an ascending line that the elements of the lower form occur again in the higher, that therefore they are more or less prominent in it. Thus especially the symbolical element in some similitudes of Christ is almost exclusively prominent, and some features of the parable are always allegorical. The message which Christ sent to the Galilean prince Herod, who wanted to frighten Him from his country, is almost in the form of a fable. The fox wished to scare the Lion, and to chase Him from his haunts.

From the nature of the parable, it is evident for what reason the Lord chose this form of teaching for His discourses, which was already familiar to the Hebrew mind, but which in Him attained to perfection. The parable, according to its nature, exhibits truth in a coloured light, which becomes indulgence to the weak, excitement to the sensuous, invigoration for purer eyes—which therefore, in every case, mediates the light of truth according to the varieties of mental vision.

According to an opinion prevalent in modern times, which may be regarded as the modern view of the design of the parable, it seems exclusively to render the truth intelligible to the understandings of a sensuous people. According to this popular theology, parables are only a popular mode of instruction, illustrations which form a sort of picture-gospel for a docile, child-like, and sensuous people. But our Lord’s own statements respecting the design of parables (Mat 13:13, &c.; Mar 4:11, &c.; Luk 8:10, &c.) go a long way beyond these pזdagogical school views of the subject; even to the length of an awful reference to the judgment of God. According to the Evangelist Matthew, in answer to the disciples’ question, ‘Why speakest Thou unto them in parables?’ He said, ‘Because it is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given. For whosoever hath, to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance; but whosoever hath not, from him shall be taken away even that he hath. Therefore speak I to them in parables, because (ὅτι) they seeing see not, and hearing they hear not, neither do they understand. And in them is fulfilled the prophecy of Esaias, which saith, By hearing ye shall hear, and shall not understand; and seeing ye shall see, and not perceive. For this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their hearts, and should be converted, and I should heal them.’ Jesus therefore applies the language in which the prophet Isaiah (6) had described the obduracy of his contemporaries to the Jewish people of his own time. It was evident to the prophet in a former age, by divine illumination, that his preaching would have the effect of increasing the obduracy of his people; as this is always the effect of preaching if it does not make men better. But he saw at the same time that by this effect the design of his preaching was not frustrated, but that in an awful manner God’s design was fulfilled, and that for many persons that would be a judicial decree of God. Such a judicial decree Simeon also found in the advent of Christ (Luk 2:25), and not less so Christ Himself (Joh 3:19). He was aware of the decisive effect of His preaching, and knew that it would become a judgment—a savour of death unto death—through their own criminality. He sought, therefore, in his mercy to diminish as much as possible this danger in the effect of His preaching, by veiling the truth He announced to the people in parables, which gave to every one an impression of the truth according to the measure of his spiritual and moral power of comprehension, without driving him at once to extremities. Therefore Christ had not the design which the modern view attributes to Him, of imparting the truth to the people by parables in the clearest and plainest form possible.⁵ And on the other hand, still less could it be His design to propound parables in order to occupy His hearers with purely unintelligible discourses, or positively to contribute to hardening them. Had such a false predestinarian design influenced Him, the parables could not have had an enlightening effect, they would not have been preserved in the Gospels as a perpetual treasury of knowledge for the Church. According to the words of the Evangelist Mark (4:33), Jesus propounded the truth to the people very simply in parables, because it was only so they would hear it—that is, not merely apprehend, but apprehend and hear it; for which purpose this was the most suitable form. Hence He might have mentioned this reason simply to His disciples. Or He might have especially put forward the compassion with which He sought, by adopting this form of teaching, to ward off the hardening of the people. But this motive the disciples of themselves could more or less have recognized. On the other hand, they would not be so likely to be sensible of the divine judgment, which lay in the fact, that Jesus was under the necessity of treating the majority of His people as ‘standing without,’ and only by means of parable to instruct them in the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. But this fact especially occupied His thoughts. It was His greatest sorrow that He could not lay open His whole heart to His people—that He was obliged to communicate the message of salvation with a caution similar to what a physician would use in administering a remedy to a person in extreme danger of death. When, therefore, He was obliged to treat the greater part of the Jews, who ought to have been prepared to receive in a devout spirit all the mysteries of the kingdom of God, just like heathens, or even as enemies of the true sanctuary, who were prepared to profane the Most Holy (Mat 7:6); when He felt with deepest anguish the awfulness of the divine retribution in this necessity of veiling from their view His divine treasures, and clearly perceived how close at hand was the judgment of the rejection of this people, it was natural that He should exhibit to the disciples this tragical side of His parabolic teaching, which they could not so easily discern. And when He explained to them more fully His motives for adopting this mode of teaching, we can easily conceive that the disciples would preserve in the most lively recollection the judicial divine motive, which He confidentially imparted to them, because it affected them most deeply, and because it was of the greatest service in explaining to them the later judgments that fell upon Israel. Evidently this reference of the Lord to the judgment of God was present to the minds of all the three Evangelists who report this explanation of Jesus. Nevertheless, their accounts seem almost to divide among them the different elements of the Lord’s declaration. Matthew’s report brings forward most plainly the design of Christ’s condescension to the capacity of His hearers, His didactic accommodation. In Luke’s brief account, the preventive motive, the design of repressing what was dangerous in the effect of the word, is most conspicuous (8:10): ‘but to others in parables, that seeing they might not see (ἵνα), and hearing they might not understand.’ Lastly, Mark in his account sets forth the judicial sentence of God in the strongest terms. He has so condensed the declaration of Jesus as it is found in Matthew, that the words with which Jesus explains His parabolic form of teaching, and the word which He adduces in illustration from the prophet Isaiah, exactly coincide. This representation is at all events inexact. But in essential points it does not affect the thoughts of Jesus. For the judicial design of God must ever have been present to the spirit of Jesus in some form or other, without disparagement to His own compassion; as indeed in God His judicial determinations are not at variance with His love. Therefore we can only inquire how the awful strictness of God’s judicial administration expressed itself in the spirit and parabolic teaching of Jesus? The solution is given in the words by which He marked the Jews as ‘them that are without.’ He was obliged to veil Himself before them as before strangers or profane persons. This, the spirit of truth required. And though He thus veiled Himself before them with the most vehement sorrow, yet He did it at the same time with the holiest decision, conscious and free. His language on this occasion harmonized with those decisive words (Mat 7:23), which, with the declaration of the completed estrangement with which the wicked appear before Him, must also express the completed doom. Those persons who are accustomed to regard the parable merely as an idyllic, agreeable mode of conveying instruction to innocent children, of younger or older growth, must be startled at the awful seriousness of this explanation which Jesus gave respecting His parabolic style of teaching. And we must add, that not only is this painful seriousness shown in the choice of the parables, but also in the circumstance that He propounded them without explaining them to the people, and that it was particularly the doctrine of the kingdom of God which He was led to veil in this manner (Mat 13:11).⁶ And the doctrine of the kingdom of God was exactly that in which Jesus differed most widely from the views of His nation. On that point He could not but disappoint their expectations. He therefore was obliged to use the greatest caution in His communications to the people on this subject. His crucifixion is a proof that He had not gone too far in His caution; and the destruction of Jerusalem proves that the people were no longer capable of receiving instruction respecting the true nature of the kingdom of God.

We can explain the design of the Gospel parables by the effects which they produce in history. They serve to bring the highest and most glorious mysteries of the kingdom of God as near as possible to the sensually-enthralled human race-to represent in pleasant, attractive enigmas, forms of character never to be forgotten, and yet to guard them as much as possible from the profanation which would bring destruction on profane spirits. They operate, therefore, on a small scale, exactly as the world from which they are taken does on a larger. The whole world in its state of repose is to be regarded as a symbol, but in its state of motion as a parable of the divine essence. And as the Gospel parables have in reference to individuals a twofold operation, so also has the world on mankind collectively. It serves to conceal the essence of God from all impure eyes; and this concealment has its gradations continually increasing, so that the most impure eyes and the most profane dispositions lose God behind the world or in it, and sink down into Atheism. But this same world serves to unveil God to the gaze of the devout, so that they see the traces of His omnipresence shining forth with ever increasing lustre; and hereafter their purified hearts shall behold Him in perfection as all in all. Both operations of the world are great, extending over all ages, and designed by God. And yet they are not the effect of a double meaning belonging to the world, but rather proceed from its complete, pure simplicity. The eternal heavenly harmony of the world, ever like itself, is the cause of its producing an effect on every man in conformity to his own character. Thus it was with the parables of Christ—those special world-pictures which were destined to represent special spiritual facts relating to the kingdom of God.

From this mediation results the mode in which Jesus accommodated Himself to the people. The rationalist theory of accommodation-namely, the hypothesis that Jesus, in order to gain the people, countenanced their erroneous notions—is shown by the majesty of His truthfulness and by the fact of His crucifixion to be a worthless and degrading view. That theory savours of Jesuitism and a dread of the Cross, and therefore of selfish considerations, to which Jesus was a stranger.⁷ But, on the other hand, if by the accommodation attributed to Him is understood that perfect wisdom in teaching with which He let Himself down to the popular mind, it is evident that, exactly in this pedagogical accommodation, His skill as a teacher, or, we may say, His special incarnation in the art of teaching, is exhibited. Here it is proper to remark, that Jesus could not feel Himself obliged to correct the popular notions which did not belong to the sphere of revelation, but merely related to unessential historical matters. It would even contradict the organic completeness of His ministry and teaching, if He had taught details that were extraneous to the connection of His work and the exigencies of His position—if, for example, He had been disposed to make disclosures respecting the world of spirits. So He complied with the more or less arbitrary, conventional assumptions and designations which belonged to the popular language, and without which He could not have discoursed intelligibly. But His inclination to substitute more significant terms for such as were conventional proved that He tested the most social types of tradition in His eternal spirit; and, with such an ever fresh consciousness of His truthfulness, it cannot be admitted that He allowed base coins to go through His hands, or false assumptions through His lips.

Discourse in parables served first of all to exhibit the eternal in the temporal, and this was for a long time the predominant effect of it. But the more the nature of parables is thoroughly understood, the more will the impression be removed, that we have in them to do with arbitrary comparisons of things essentially different; we shall evermore recognize the essential relation between the similitude and its ideal world. But when the parable in general is viewed in this light, according to the sentence of the poet, ‘everything transitory is only a similitude,’ particular parables then also serve to glorify the temporal in the eternal, as before they glorified the eternal in the temporal So, for example, in the picture of the woman who searched for the lost piece of money, we see the divine valuation of the valuable, how it goes in anxious quest of it through all the world. In the hand of this careful housekeeper we shall see a ray of that sun beaming forth which seeks the lost. In the conduct of the faithful shepherd, who seeks for the lost sheep in the wilderness, and hazards his own life to recover it, we shall recognize the divine foolishness of that love which sacrificed the most glorious life in order to rescue sinners; which therefore does not calculate, and is not rational according to the notions of the earthly world, but whose irrationality is nothing else than the sublimity of the highest reason, which always goes hand in hand with love. Thus therefore the main features of the ideality of the world appear in the parables as it has its principle in Christ, and is to become manifest by the operation of His Spirit; or the first clearest signs of the parabolic character of the world, the primitive forms of the great world-parable in which God unfolds the riches of His Spirit and life.⁸

It lies in the nature of a parable that it can be contracted or enlarged, and that it is sufficiently flexible to allow sometimes one side and sometimes another to be prominent. So we find again in the Gospels several parables with various modifications.⁹ But these modifications cannot be regarded as fresh constructions of the same parable without displacing the proper point of view for judging of the parable. For in its formation we have to do, not with a beautiful, elaborated fiction, but with a life-image of the truth. When, therefore, a parable of Jesus corresponds to this object in its first draught, its later enlargement cannot be considered as a completion of it, but only as a modification which is designed to exhibit the truth pointed out in a new relation, in a fresh light. As little can it be admitted that tradition has remodelled the parables. They were impressed too powerfully in the remembrance of the apostolic Church as organic totalities for that to be possible. Yet we may conclude from the free individuality of the Gospels, that each Evangelist, according to the whole spirit of his conception, might allow some integral parts of a parable to retire, and place others more prominently in the foreground.¹⁰

The relationship of the parabolic form of teaching to unfigurative, didactic discourse appears in the parabolic discourses. We must not confound these with the parables properly so called. They are characterized by having the parabolic element mingled with the explanation in the flow of a continued discourse. The parable is therefore not given in its pure, exclusive form, detached from other matter; but its essential elements, its single images, form the leading thoughts of the discourse. This form of discourse embraces all single forms of imagery in living unity: flashing metaphors, ornate allegories, touches of fable, magnificent symbols, and parabolic figures form the splendour of the beautiful banks through which flows the deep thought-stream of parabolic discourse, and are reflected in its depths with all their colours and forms. And so this form is a copy of the great combination between the images of the divine in the world and the world-transforming thoughts of the Spirit of God.

If we now look back and compare the parables of Jesus with His miracles, they will appear to us like those, as forms of the communication of His divine fulness to the poverty of the world, as mediating forms. But they are related to one another, not only according to their destiny, but according to their nature. The miracles of Jesus are visibly great single similitudes of His universal agency—similitudes in facts. His similitudes, on the other hand, disclose themselves as miracles of His word, when we recognize in them the ideal relation of essence between the eternal and the temporal. The miracle is a fact which comes from the word, and becomes the word. The similitude is a word which comes from the fact, and impresses itself in the fact. The common birthplace of these ideal twin-forms is therefore the world-creative and world-transforming Word. At the close of this examination we had to give a distinct representation of the parables according to their living connection. But the doctrine of the kingdom of God, which Christ announced and founded, forms this connection; and since we have to discuss this doctrine in the next section, we shall form the most correct estimate of the parables, if we contemplate them under the point of view just named, in their organic connection as similitudes relating to the founding of the kingdom of God.

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Notes

1. Neander also has treated of the parables separately, with a reference to the thought that forms their basis, the founding of the kingdom of God.

2. Since art has to do with the ideal contemplation and representation of life, so imagery, as the reflex of the ideal in discourse, must be related to art. But in this relation metaphor reminds us of music, allegory of painting and the plastic art, fable of the drama (which by the ancients was also distinguished as fable), symbol of lyric poetry, and, lastly, parable of epic poetry and tales. Music is the image simply; it elicits from objective life the spiritual music of its infinitely powerful relationship to the heart. The plastic arts allegorize throughout; they exhibit ideal appearances in which homogeneous appearances in life are reflected. The drama is not only related to fable in this respect, that it causes the characters it exhibits to operate and exhibit themselves by speech, but also in this, that it allows their reciprocal action in general to come forth from the noble or ignoble nature-side of their life not yet elevated into the spirit. In lyric poetry, on the other hand, the meditating spirit always exhibits symbolically an ideal image of the world and of human dispositions; the lyrical element rises above the complexity of the drama. Epic poetry and tales, lastly, exhibit spiritual life-images in their practical movements like the parable. But the two lines of representation are distinguished in this respect, that the didactic images serve the practical object of discourse, while the artistical images represent life in a state of rest and enjoyment.

1) When the adage is correctly apprehended in relation to the thoughtful combination of the sensible and the spiritual, it will be difficult to find in Luke s Sermon on the Mount the Ebionitish, vapid beatitude of the simply temporal poor.

2) Oratio qua quis ἄλλο μὲν ἀγορεύει, ἄλλο δὲ νοεῖ.ʼ—Wilke, Neu-test. Rhetorik, p. 103.

3) From this συμβάλλειν proceeds the σύμβολον.

4) The παραβολὴ is formed by the παραβάλλειν, the combination of the general spiritual fact which is to be rendered visible to the hearer with a well-defined individual image of it.

5) See Hase, das Leben Jesu, p. 144.

6) See Hoffmann, Weissagung und Erfullung, Part ii. p. 98.

7) Neander, Life, of Christ, p. 119.

8) The Evangelist Matthew appears to have indicated this side of the parable very thoughtfully in the remark iu which he applies the words of Asaph (Ps. Ixxviii. 2), in a free citation, to the parables of Christ; namely, with the words, ἐρεύξομαι κεκρυμμένα ἀπὸ καταβολῆς κόσμον, ‘I will utter things which have been kept secret from the foundation of the world’ (Matt. xiii. 35).

9) So, for instance, the parables, Mark iv. 2, compared with iv, 26; Luke xiv. compared with Matt. xxii. 1-14.

10) Thus Luke, in the parable of the marriage supper (xiv. 16), according to the connection in which he introduces it, and his own kindly predisposition, gives peculiar prominence to the compassion of the Lord (ver. 21); and, on the other hand, withdraws the element of judgment which is forcibly presented by Matthew (xxii. 7). Luke also omits the second instance of judgment in Matt. xxii. 13. Matthew, on the contrary, gives less prominence to the element of compassion, since he introduces the parable in a connection in which the idea of the future judgment predominates. But we have here to do with modifications formed by Jesus Himself, so that only the selection of the precise parables can be referred to the individuality of the Evangelists.