itself by resorting to Scripture for a reason when at the same moment transgressing Scripture by condemning a man unheard! The last and real argument or groundwork of unbelief is mere irrational obstinacy, a dogmatical refusal to believe, as expressed in the stupid interrogatory by no means obsolete in our own day, "have any of the rulers believed on him?"-a refusal arising less from defect of understanding than from one of will; and the only reason why the last crisis urged on by malevolence and perversity is yet postponed arises from the transcendental necessity, "his hour had not yet come.” Other illustrations follow, partly argumentative, partly symbolical, of the same general subject. The pregnant instance of the silent judgment exercised by the “light of the world" in the case of the woman taken in adultery affords at the same time an opportunity of exemplifying the contrasted spirit of law and gospel; and the subsequent conviction of the Jews as "children of the devil" shews how unbelief when masking under religious pretences is in reality most irreligious. The agency of the same principle in giving light and sight on the Sabbath to the man born blind answers to the previous similar gift of life and health to the impotent man; unbelief availing itself of the same technical plea of "the Sabbath" in order to shew that the work was sinful, and consequently not really and truly miraculous. But facts are stubborn things; and the true inference is the reverse of that intended by the Jews, namely, that since opening blind eyes contradicts all ordinary experience (ix. 32), he who did it must be from God. But the blindness is here a figurative blindness, and the sight supernaturally given passes through several moral gradations and varieties until it emerges into the full light of belief. First, there is the external apprehension of the mere sign, conveying no immediate insight as to the person of Jesus; but this 1 Comp. ver. 42, 49 with 51. apprehension passes on to the apprehension of the work as a work of God (ix. 31), and thence to the full appreciation of the person of Jesus as the Messiah (ver. 38). The antithesis to this advance from blindness to insight are the "Pharisees," those blind leaders who, however ocularly familiar with work and worker, see neither in their true character. Unbelief is self-condemned, as the deliberately adopted blindness of men with their eyes open. Again, in contrast to the hireling Pharisees of the ninth chapter, we have the true Shepherd of the tenth, who knows his sheep and is known of them. The Raising of Lazarus and Last Series of Discourses. From the end of the tenth chapter, where the discussion with unbelief ceases, and where Jesus, having completed the series of his preliminary manifestations, is brought back, as if for the purpose of indicating the close of this portion of the narrative, to the locality where his ministry commenced, we approach the final issue in which the Jews openly shew themselves no longer in mere disposition and intention, but in actual deed-as children of the father of lies and murders. The hour is announced as "come," and the body of Jesus is embalmed as for his burial (xii. 7). The frequent anticipations of the closing scene occurring through the narrative are part of the far-reaching synthetical character of the gospel, which overlooking space and time,1 and actualising the future and distant, makes the whole career of Jesus the inevitable evolution of a predetermined plan. A presentiment of the catastrophe pervades the whole. The first display of "glory" at Cana distinctly alludes to the impending hour of mingled defeat and victory, where the water of the Old Testament was to be exchanged for the symbolical wine of the new; the 1 See i. 18; iii. 13, 2 enemies of Jesus at once entertain a murderous purpose, of which they are half unconscious;1 and from the first he is pointed out as the expiatory "lamb," whose "lifting up” was to ruin the cause of darkness by drawing all men to the light. Hitherto the divine manifestations, though not wholly ineffectual, had been ill-received; darkness could not comprehend the light (i. 5; vi. 52, etc.); wickedness would not (iii. 19); and hence the literal fulfilment of prophecy (xii. 37) emphatically recorded as the preordained issue of unbelief. But the time had arrived for the Son's definitive glorification, when the principle of life was to be assured in the midst of death (xii. 24). The last scene is immediately preceded by a significant and hitherto unprecedented display of power, very necessary in the general construction of the gospel, but to which, as an actual event, no allusion occurs in the others. The miracle of the raising of Lazarus stands apart from the rest of the "onμeia" (x. 38, 41); it does not, like the others, form the subject of after discussion, but is all important in the sequence of the narrative, as constituting the immediate cause of the final catastrophe, and typically heralding the resurrection of the Prince of life himself. The circumstances, taken as a mere history, are altogether anomalous and paradoxical. A man sickens and dies, yet his sickness is "not unto death," but for the glory of God (xi. 4). He is beloved by Jesus, yet Jesus, after hearing of his illness, purposely remains two days longer in the place where he then was, leaving his beloved friend to die unaided! Then, after having been thus deliberately neglectful, he groans and weeps over the dead, although conscious of possessing the power which he immediately exercises of resuscitating him; and finally pronounces a solemn prayer, in which he informs the Deity that although fully aware of the uselessness of praying on his own account, he nevertheless thinks it 1 Comp. ch. v. 16 with vii. 20. 2 See ii. 23; vii. 12, 31, 40, 41; viii. 30; x. 42. right to pray in order to make an impression on the minds of the bystanders! (ver. 41, etc.) This is not the language of true history or genuine feeling; but in a narrative contrived for a purpose, the very improbabilities of the story serve to direct us more certainly to the intended meaning. Indeed we are expressly told that the circumstances are calculated to promote the great object of the drama,1 and are consequently entitled to infer that the pathos is only to be taken as the pathos of romance. But the romance takes its form from the general structure of the gospel. The peculiarities of scene and circumstance at the commencement lead inevitably to peculiar modifications at the close. Jesus having been throughout exposed to peril from the machinations of enemies at Jerusalem, and having hitherto escaped with impunity, it was necessary to assign some special circumstance or provocation in order to bring the long protracted issue to a crisis; in short, to exhibit both the glory of Jesus and the corresponding envy and incredulity of the Jews in their most intense and decisive forms. The synoptical miracles which the evangelist had before him are consequently arranged in a certain order of gradation, which here attains its climax. Already the Lord of life and light had characteristically manifested himself by giving health to the maimed and sight to the blind; the resuscitation of the dead was the only remaining way in which he could surpass himself, and it was also the surest means of exasperating his enemies to the utmost. The real aim is indicated in the recorded effect, i.e., a new "judgment" or crisis among the witnesses (xi. 45, 46), and in the altered conduct of the Pharisees, who are now unavoidably compelled to resort to more active measures (vers. 47, 48); and yet unbelief, in the midst of its meditated triumph, pronounces its own doom of disappointment in the prophetic anticipation, that the realization of Jewish hate would have the very opposite of the intended effect, 1 See vers. 4 and 15. namely, the salvation of the nation and the world generally (ver. 49, etc.), i.e. the glorious result of the crucifixion. For Christ appears throughout not so much as the sacrificial lamb, as the head of a spiritual family (x. 26; xviii. 37), the source of spiritual nutriment, the true Shepherd of the soul; and the atoning sacrifice of his death is chiefly dwelt on in its triumphant consequences as an act of glorification and unification, as the discomfiture of the "prince of this world,” as a decay prolific of fruitfulness (xv. 8), as the great means of "gathering together into one" the scattered children of God. In this gospel, the true moment of the transfiguration is the crucifixion; and the agony felt at its approach is here limited to a mere transient exclamation, a passing shadow lost in the splendour of the coming glory (xii. 27). And this "glory" is no mere outward display, no mere restoration of the celestial condition of the Logos (for this had been already seen in all its plenitude on earth), but the inward effectuation of his earthly work (xvii. 2, 4, 5), the abundant fructification of the heavenly vine (xv. 8) by the realization of “life and light" in humanity. The Son glorifies the Father by giving eternal life to man (xvii. 2); and this life consists, we are told, in true religion; in the true knowledge of God and of Christ (xvii. 3), established in a living organization of the associated faithful (xv. 4-6). During the interval immediately preceding his execution, Jesus addresses a distinct series of discourses to his disciples who remained the sole available means for reclaiming an unbelieving world (xvii. 11). Even among them some corrupt elements still lingered; the false follower, the "son of perdition," was yet unseparated from the true; the feeling of impending desertion had to be met by the promise of the "Comforter;" various mistakes and misapprehensions were to be removed ere the disciples could be 1 Ch. xi. 52; xii. 19, 20, 32. Comp. i. 12. |