Part 21

[288] Apuleius, _Met._ XI, 5.

[289] Plutarch, _de Is. et Osir._, 67.

[290] Apuleius, _Met._ XI, 23.

[291] Apuleius, _Met._ XI, 19-30.

[292] Published by Cumont, _Mystères de Mithra_^2, p. 132, fig. 18.

[293] Lydus, _de mens._ IV, 59. Cf. Cumont, _The Oriental Religions_, pp. 55 ff. Some scholars doubt the evidence and would place the introduction of the festivals in the time of the Antonines; so Wissowa, _Religion und Kultus der Römer_^2, p. 322.

[294] The same name was used in the festival of Isis. Cf. p. 273.

[295] _CIL._ X, 1596.

[296] _Ibid._ VI, 497-504; cf. _IGSI._ 1019, 1020.

[297] Prudentius, _Persiteph._ 10, 1011 ff.; Anon., _Carmen contra Paganos_ 57 ff.

[298] _CIL._ VI, 512, iterato viginti annis expletis taurobolii sui. Probably we should read taurobolio suo.

[299] _Ibid._ VI, 510.

[300] Apuleius, _Met._ XI, 25.

IX

CHRISTIANITY

In the previous lectures we have traced the development of Greek religious thought from the Homeric poems to the third century of our era; we have seen how Greece extended her intellectual dominion over the entire Mediterranean world which the military and political genius of Rome bound into one empire; and we have examined the chief oriental mysteries which spread throughout the same area. We now turn to Christianity. In dealing with this it will be necessary to review at some length the work of Jesus and the doctrines of Paul, that we may have in mind the material which was later brought into accord with the philosophic thought and the intellectual habits of the Roman Empire outside that district in which Christianity had its birth. But before we do this we should recall some characteristics of the ancient world in the earliest centuries of our era.

In the first place we must realize that it was a Greco-Roman world, one in which the civilizations of two great peoples—the one intellectual, the other political—had been compounded. In the eastern half of the Empire Greek influence dominated. Alexander’s conquests had made Greek the common language of a great area with the result that in the East Greek thought and Greek habits of expression—that is to say, Greek philosophy and Greek rhetoric—were practically native. The West also, as I have earlier tried to show, had received Greek philosophy and Greek rhetoric more than a century and a half before our era, so that indeed over all the Roman Empire common habits of thought and universal modes of expression prevailed. The eastern half of the Empire contained Alexandria, which had been the chief intellectual center from the third century before our era; in the West was Rome, the center of that imperial power which made the world a political unit; yet western thought owed not merely its form but almost its existence to Greek influences.

In the second place the East was the home of the learning of the world. The Greeks furnished the West not only philosophy and rhetoric but the sciences as well. Building on the mathematics and astronomy which they had learned from their Eastern neighbors and the Egyptians they soon developed these two sister sciences. Tradition says that in the sixth century B.C. the philosopher Thales predicted an eclipse of the sun; certainly a century later the Greeks had made great advances; and such were their attainments by the opening of our era that only in comparatively modern times has a new period in the history of astronomy and mathematics begun. In the descriptive sciences of botany and zoölogy especially the Greeks had reached a high position by the fourth century B.C. The work of Aristotle, of Theophrastus, and of others still holds the profound respect of all modern scientists who are familiar with the history of their subjects. In geography and mineralogy also their accomplishments were not inconsiderable; likewise in many branches of physics they did notable work; while Greek scientific medicine, already highly developed in Hippocrates’ day (c. 460-377 B.C.), was further advanced in the succeeding centuries. The works of Galen (129-c. 199 A.D.) remained the authoritative treatises for more than fourteen hundred years. All these sciences the Romans learned from the Greeks, and although in some fields they made notable application of their lessons, they never surpassed their teachers.

Moreover Greece and Hellenized Asia Minor, Syria, and Egypt had a knowledge of the conduct of business, of banking, and of the details of administration which they gave to the western half of the Empire. Indeed Roman history between the battle of Actium and the reign of Diocletian from one point of view is the history of the spread of eastern ideas to the West and of their absorption there. Not only did captive Greece take her captor captive, but in a sense Egypt, Syria, and Asia Minor won their conquests as well. Many causes operated to further this intellectual domination of the Hellenized East over the Roman West. The eastern provinces had not suffered in the civil wars at the end of the Republic as had many parts of the West; their wealth was not wasted, and in general their social and economic relations were comparatively undisturbed. Under the wise administration of the Emperors these provinces grew richer; their inhabitants, especially the Greeks among them, gained a consciousness of their own intellectual superiority which they had not had in the last two centuries before our era. The influence of the East, therefore, was in many ways consciously exerted.

Thirdly we must bear in mind that the world was cosmopolitan. For centuries traders had carried not only wares but ideas from one part of the ancient world to another, slaves had done their part, which was not small, since many of them were educated; and from the time of Augustus the soldiers drawn from every province of the Empire exerted a great influence in breaking down the barriers between the nations. For the idea of a cosmopolitan world Stoicism had furnished a philosophic basis; the actuality was realized in large measure by the natural developments under Roman imperial rule. Separate nations had ceased to exist; and in the universal levelling which a growing autocracy produced, the differences between citizens, provincials, and slaves were diminished and an approach was made to a cosmopolitan equality.

Furthermore the Roman world of the first three centuries was virtually a world of peace. Merchants and traders, tourists and missionaries moved freely from one end of the Empire to the other. The value of this Roman peace was recognized by the Christians; near the end of the second century the Christian writer Irenaeus declared: “The Romans have given the world peace and we travel without fear along the roads and across the sea wherever we will.”[301]

The world was also one of religious unrest and inquiry. The traditional religions and the inherited forms of religious expression had in large part failed. There was, as has been said in an earlier lecture, a sense of weariness and dissatisfaction which showed itself in the large resort of all classes to Stoic philosophy, in the devotion among the cultured to the mystic philosophies, in conversions to Judaism, and later in the ready reception of oriental religions, including Christianity. We have already seen how both philosophy and mysticism recognized that men had a sense of moral guilt and were conscious of an estrangement from God through sin, from which they desired to secure purification, that is, to attain freedom from the common lot of the bondage of wickedness. Philosophy and mysticism also agreed in holding that the means at man’s disposal were not sufficient to accomplish his release, that the reason and the will unaided could not free him, and that therefore external help was necessary—that an act of grace made known by a divine revelation was required. This escape from sin, this freeing of man’s spirit, for which they longed, was regarded as a reunion with God, which gave the promise of security and salvation here and hereafter, and which thereby answered man’s hope for an unbroken and a perfected existence. It was into a world of such a nature and with such religious thoughts as these that Christianity entered.

But Christianity grew out of Judaism. It will be well therefore to recall briefly to our minds those religious ideas of the Jews to which the mission and the teaching of Jesus were immediately related. At the beginning of our era a majority of the Jews had abandoned the earlier notion of a golden age, a material kingdom of God, which was to be set up on earth, for a belief in a more spiritual kingdom, which was to be established at some future time either on a transformed earth or in a supermundane heaven. They no longer expected that the whole nation would share in the supreme happiness of this kingdom, but only those individuals who by righteousness and through God’s mercy had won a place therein; the wicked were to be either utterly destroyed or punished forever in Sheol. Moreover the Jews generally entertained Messianic expectations of various kinds; they did not, however, look forward with confidence, as their forefathers had done, to the coming of one who should be a national king on earth. There were besides hopes of revelation from God on which we must not pause. Nor is it necessary to speak of the weaknesses of Judaism, its tendency to make the practice of religion a matter of conformity to the minute regulations of the law, its frequent disregard of moral motives, its pride and religious pretence.

* * * * *

All thoughtful readers of the New Testament are aware that within it are represented three stages in the early development of Christianity. In the first the disciples of Jesus formed a group and then a sect within the Jewish nation. The second was that in which the gospel was carried outside Judea into the Roman Empire to Gentiles as well as to Jews. Thus the transformation of Christianity into a universal religion was begun. In that movement, as we all know, Paul was the chief figure. The third stage was that in which philosophic thought began to operate upon the doctrines of this new religion. It was the period in which Christian theology started to develop; the time in which Christian thought began to be expressed in philosophic form and squared with the philosophy of the day. The fourth Gospel is the document in our canon in which the use of a great philosophic conception for the expression of Christian ideas is first obvious.

Let us now consider briefly the teachings that belong to these three stages, as they are represented by Jesus, by Paul, and by the writer of the Johannine books.

Like every great spiritual teacher Jesus built on the beliefs of his time, refining, enlarging, ennobling, and transforming men’s conceptions of God and of his kingdom, of man and of his salvation. His teachings were concrete; he made no attempt to present his views in philosophic form, but inculcated his lessons as occasion offered or required. His words and the history of his life are preserved to us in imperfect and fragmentary forms, having been recorded after his death at a time when his followers had considerably increased in numbers and were to be found at many places outside Judea and Syria. For our present purpose we must confine ourselves to the three synoptic gospels. Of these Mark in essentially its present form was written shortly after 70; Matthew and Luke can hardly be earlier than 80-90 A.D. These gospels are necessarily both historical and interpretative; their writers were children of their own day and shared in its beliefs and superstitions. They were naturally credulous toward the myths and legends which had rapidly grown up about Jesus. When we consider their great eschatological interest, we realize that the authors actually tell us an extraordinary amount concerning Jesus’ life and teachings. The historical interpretation of the gospels must take all these matters into account.

It is impossible to understand Jesus’ teachings if we detach them from his person, for in a very real sense he was himself the gospel. Only by grasping so far as possible his personality can we comprehend in any adequate degree the impression which he made on his followers. Their discipleship at the time and the whole development of Christianity after Jesus’ death depended on that personality. Nor is there anything strange in this fact; we are in a degree familiar with it in our own experience, whenever any great teacher or leader appears.

Let us now consider Jesus’ views as to the nature of God and as to man’s relation to him. First of all he taught his disciples that they must regard God as their Father. This idea was by no means new or foreign to the thoughts of his hearers. In the Old Testament we not infrequently find Israel spoken of as the son of God; it was said that God took a special and gracious interest in the people of Israel, that he cared for them wholly, or especially, and that they were his beloved people whom he had chosen to be the agents of his revelation. Jesus taught that God’s fatherhood expresses itself in infinite love for men, that this love extends not only to the righteous but to the wicked as well, so that both receive his care and blessings: “But I say unto you, Love your enemies, and pray for them that persecute you; that ye may be sons of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sendeth rain on the just and the unjust.”[302] Furthermore he showed that the divine care is given to the humblest and smallest parts of the universe, so that the heavenly Father marks even the fall of a sparrow to the ground. The perfect nature of God’s love Jesus made the measure of God’s perfection; and, although he recognized man’s limitations and the moral value of an honest advance in righteousness, he set as man’s ultimate goal nothing less than the perfection of God himself as shown in perfect love.[303] Again he gave a new hope to outcasts and sinners by declaring that those who repented of their sins and desired to enter into right relations with God would not be despised. That was the meaning of the parable of the Prodigal Son: it illustrated the generosity of God’s affection and showed that it reached to the poorest and worst of men. To realize fully the significance of this teaching we must remind ourselves of the attitude of self-righteous Pharisees not only toward publicans and sinners but toward the common people, association with whom they scrupulously shunned and among whom they hardly admitted that true piety could exist. It was a scandal in their eyes that Jesus mingled freely with the classes whose contact was defilement and whose intimacy was shame, while he declared that he came to call not the righteous, but sinners to repentance.

Man’s proper relation to God Jesus held to be the exact converse of God’s to man: he taught that man’s sonship consists in a likeness to God, which will express itself in love toward God and toward all men. This teaching is nowhere more clearly set forth than in the words which I have just quoted: “Love your enemies, and pray for them that persecute you; that ye may be sons of your Father which is in heaven;”[304] the same lesson he inculcated in the prayer which he taught his disciples: “Forgive us our debts as we also have forgiven our debtors.” On another occasion he charged his followers: “Whensoever ye stand praying, forgive, if ye have aught against anyone; that your Father also which is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.”[305] So Jesus held that love and forgiveness, the characteristics of God himself, are required of men as sons of their heavenly Father; that those who wish to claim such a relationship to God must exercise the same generous affection toward their fellows that God shows to them; and that with this must go such love of God as was taught in the law: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbour as thyself.”[306]

Salvation Jesus would no doubt have defined in part as peace and confidence of mind in this world and eternal happiness in the next. Our data clearly show that he held that man secures salvation when he enters on the life which belongs to the sons of God, and that the basis of this life, as we have just seen, is love, while its outward signs are acts prompted by whole hearted affection for one’s fellow-men and for God. This life Jesus evidently regarded as the natural one from which man departs through sin, and therefore he taught that repentance from sin is the antecedent condition of entrance into right relations with God, that is to say, into salvation. At the beginning of his ministry he preached in Galilee that the kingdom of Heaven was at hand and called on men to repent and to believe in the good news; and at the end of his work he charged his disciples to preach repentance and the remission of sins to all peoples.[307] But it is important that we should keep clearly before us the fact that Jesus did not lay so much emphasis on the negative element of repentance as on the positive motive of love. He taught that the man who had that motive would naturally exhibit it in a trustful dependence on God and in a righteousness of life which would be of a very different character from that of a life directed by mere obedience to legal and ritual requirements. A man whose thoughts and acts were prompted by love of God and of his fellow-men had attained salvation—that is to say, Jesus held salvation to be a present experience, one which could be realized at any time by any man who recognized God as his father with all which that implied, and who consequently devoted himself to a life of unselfish service. He declared that such a man had already entered into a joy and blessedness which no earthly misfortunes could disturb. Jesus therefore not only gave his followers a sure hope of salvation in the future, when they should realize in heaven the supreme ideal of life and complete happiness, but he also taught them that they could have a real experience of salvation in their present every-day lives.

It should be observed that Jesus laid the greatest stress on the motives for righteousness, and that he paid little attention to the negative and restrictive elements which are inevitably large in any legalistic system of ethics or religion. For him mere external acts and observances were not enough, but righteousness and service must be prompted from within. Furthermore, although the record of his life and teachings show that he attached much importance to the social elements in religion, he dwelt on the responsibility of the individual, who must for himself, by his motives, character, and actions fulfill the requirements for entrance into salvation.

With regard to Jesus’ conception of his own person it is difficult to speak with certainty on many points. It is beyond question, however, that he regarded himself as one divinely commissioned to present the fatherhood of God and to set forth man’s proper relations to God and to his fellow-men. Faith in the validity of his commission and in his teachings as showing the way of salvation was required of his followers, for only by such faith could they be moved to transmute his teachings into action. Yet it is intimated that up to the time of his last arrival at Jerusalem Jesus made no effort to be popularly regarded as the Messiah for whom the Jews had looked. When at Caesarea Philippi Peter declared that he was the Christ, Jesus “charged the disciples that they should tell no man.”[308] His reasons for such caution seem evident when we consider the varied character of the Jews’ Messianic hopes, and the great probability that if he had allowed himself to be recognized as the one whom they expected, his proper work would have been greatly hampered, if not utterly checked. The danger is well illustrated by the incident recorded in John, when the people wished to take him by force and make him king, so that he was obliged to withdraw from them.[309]

But in spite of Jesus’ unwillingness to put forward Messianic claims for himself, it is clear that he considered his relation to God as unique in its knowledge and perfection. When he asked his followers to believe on him, he seems obviously to have called on them to trust him as the one who had been divinely commissioned to interpret God to men, and to accept the validity of his teaching as to man’s proper relations to God and his fellow-men, that is, as to the life which they should follow as the sons of their Father. The dogmatic associations which today are attached to the idea of a “belief in Christ,” obscure Jesus’ plain teaching for many. But when his ministry had been brought to its tragic close, his disciples saw him in a new light, and thereafter made his person a matter of supreme moment, as the Church on the whole has done ever since.

Again there has been much debate as to the significance of the sufferings and death of Jesus. From our data we must conclude that Jesus did not give to his passion the interpretation which his disciples naturally gave after the event, and which succeeding generations have given it. Yet toward the end of his ministry Jesus recalled and applied to himself the doctrine that the good may suffer death, not for his own faults, but for the sins of others, as found in the fifty-third chapter of Isaiah; and it seems clear that he regarded his rejection and crucifixion as essential factors in bringing men into the kingdom of God.