Tag: Bruno Bauer

Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 3

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§ 72.

The little ones.

Mark 9, 33-50. 10, 13 – 16.

The close connection between the account of the disciples’ dispute over rank and Jesus’ statements about His Messiahship and destiny, as demonstrated above, entitles us to examine this account in this section. Inwardly, it is connected with the other account of the blessing of the children, and our task will now be to determine the relationship between the two accounts, and especially to reconstruct the original account for the former, since even in the writing of Mark we are confronted with many disturbing elements and the precision of the presentation is nullified.

It seems, in any case, that the substance which both narratives deal with did not easily lend itself to a firm and clear representation. It is too soft and, due to its softness, difficult to digest; it is very vague and contains a thousand contradictions in its gelatinous state; it is not only unmanly but also inhumane. We will be brief, as our above investigations have already resolved all these narratives. We simply note: sentimental contemplation of childhood, once it becomes serious, is an attack on the dignity of reason and its education and goods. The child is precisely characterized by raw desire, self-will, and selfishness in their most disgusting form. Who among us would want to become a child again and discard everything he has acquired in terms of education in the company of men? And were not the disciples true children, considering everything that the Gospels have reported to us about them so far? Did they not just now commit a true childish prank when, after their Master’s remarks about His suffering, they knew nothing better to do than to argue about precedence? Instead of presenting the children as a model, Mark should rather have said: become reasonable and men for once! Until now you have only been little children. Children, become men!

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1 The blessing of the children.

We will first consider the account of the blessing of the children, partly because it is the clearer, more solid one – but only relatively, for in itself it is also contradictory and impossible – and partly because we must already know it, in order to be able to decide on some interpolations which confuse the first account.

One brings – we do not know how it comes to pass, since the people have not yet heard that the Lord is such a great friend of children, nor can we understand it any better, since the Lord travels through regions where he had not previously appeared – children to him, so that they may touch Jesus, that is, as we will see later, but which Luke has left out at the end (Chapter 18, 15-17), and which Matthew has only hinted at briefly, especially in relation to the detailed introduction – he simply says (Chapter 19, 15): he laid his hands on them – so that he would put his hands on them and bless them. The disciples prevented the people who brought them: why? would only be understandable if they themselves had already become children, whose main passion is the most foolish envy. When Jesus saw it, he became angry and said to them: Let the little children come to me, and do not stop them, for such – τωνγαρ τοιουτων – is the kingdom of God. Such! That is, theirs is the kingdom of heaven, which they receive – as Luke writes in accordance with Mark’s command; Matthew has very wrongly left out this more specific designation – as a child.

The poor children! We mean the real children: what might they have done in their embarrassment while Jesus was teaching the great children, the disciples?

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How embarrassed they must have stood there! Even more, that Jesus hugged and blessed them afterwards can hardly compensate for the fact that they must serve purely and solely as a means for Jesus to teach the great, adult children. Jesus says not a word about them, and they must only serve as a metaphor for the great children. Calvin indeed says that the expression “such” refers to both the little ones and those like them*; de Wette goes even further: because “it is necessary in the action of Jesus that he must speak about the children themselves, the expression ‘such’ refers back to the previous subject, the children”**). Indeed, it refers back to them, but – how long should one waste time on such children’s lessons? – in the way that they are only used as a substrate for a metaphorical expression. The children are and remain mere means, brought there only so that the Lord can use the metaphorical expression “little children”; that is, only the pragmatism of Mark brought them there, so that the command of humiliation and self-denial, which recurs so often in this section (Chapter 8, 31; – 10, 45) and is the main theme, can be expressed once in the form that bringing children gives the Lord the opportunity to impress upon his followers that one can only receive the kingdom of heaven as a child. The whole thing is extremely frosty, contrived, and without substance; it is everything that can be the opposite of living, healthy, and rational reality.

*) τοιουτων: hac voce tam parvulos, quam eorum similes comprehendit.

**) 1, 1, 160. de Wette thereby commits the other violent trick of referring to 2 Cor. 12, 2. 3. 5. The poor language has indeed suffered much when theology still ruled. Anyone who no longer feels like sacrificing the law of language to the most miserable of all passions, to theological passion, will see at first glance that Paul (v. 5) wants to avoid referring directly to himself and, as far as possible in this case, to reject himself by the expression τοιουτος.

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Before we hear how Jesus commands self-abasement on the occasion of the disciples’ rank dispute, we note that later, when the disciples became displeased with the pretensions of the two Zebedees, he again demands self-abasement. Here, because the development of the theme is concluded, the speech is not only more detailed than before – the opposition to the worldly great ones and princes who seek dominion is carefully elaborated and then commanded: whoever wants to be great among you, be a servant; whoever wants to be first, be the servant of all – but it is now also stated that self-denial is the first duty of the followers of the suffering Messiah: “For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give His life in payment for many. “(Mark 10, 41 – 45. Matth. 20, 24 – 28.)

 

2. The Ranking Dispute Among the Disciples.

If it is clear that all of those incidents are literary creations, so that the Lord has an opportunity to express how the followers of the suffering Messiah should behave, and if it is equally clear that the contrast aimed at with these incidents cannot be more obvious and crude, it may still be worthwhile to point out how the crudeness of Matthew’s layout is further elaborated. Mark had wisely refrained from allowing the disciples to openly raise the question of who was the greatest, and although Luke blurred the finer nuances of the original account and only reported, “There arose a dispute among them as to who was the greatest, and when Jesus – in a wondrous way – saw the strife of their hearts, he took a child” (Chapter 9, 46-47), he still retained this reluctance. But Matthew not only allows the disciples to openly and shamelessly raise that question before the Lord, not only does he allow them to speak as if it were a foregone conclusion that there was a supreme rank in the kingdom of heaven – thus incorporating the premise of the request of the sons of Zebedee with a modification in his account – but he also allows the disciples to ask as if they had already received the promise that one of them would have the preeminence in the kingdom of heaven. “Who is (αρα) the greatest then,” they ask, “in the kingdom of heaven” (Chapter 18, 1) – a very inappropriate reference to an earlier concession in any case. In the original Gospel, Jesus never gave the disciples any reason to fall into such childishness. On the contrary! Their question is supposed to provide a contrast to the preceding conversation about suffering, death, and the cross. Or, as Chrysostom suggests, the question may refer to Jesus’ recent grant of preeminence to Peter over all the others, in which case the matter was already settled and decided. Only one thing is certain: Matthew had nothing specific in mind with that transition formula, and the disciples’ question should have been absent from a Gospel that teaches about Peter being given the keys to the kingdom of heaven.

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3. The exception of a little one.

After the childish question of the disciples, Jesus takes a child – we would like to know where it immediately came from, since according to the original account the discussion took place in the house where Jesus and the disciples had stopped after their journey; we would also like to see the embarrassed face of the poor child in the midst of the disciples, whom it was supposed to serve as an example – and after he has placed it in the midst of the disciples – a piece of cake would have been more welcome to the child – he says (Matthew 18, 2-5): Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever becomes humble like this (!) child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes such a child in my name welcomes me.

First of all, in the first half of this saying, the two different ways in which the same thought is twisted and turned and sharpened contradict each other. At the beginning (v. 3) it says, “Whoever does not become like the children cannot enter the kingdom of heaven – that is, the kingdom of heaven in general. “Then it says (v. 4): He who is humbled like this child is the greater in the kingdom of heaven,” i.e. only now does the discourse return to the occasion and the first saying does not belong here; it belongs to the narrative of the blessing of the children, where Matthew omits it. But the second half of the saying also contradicts the first. When Jesus, in v. 5, continues without further ado, in the same breath, as if he were speaking in the best context, “and whoever receives such a child in my name receives me,” we cannot see any connection here, since the child is just now regarded as an object of imitation, now as an object of benevolent care, that is, according to very different considerations, which must be kept quite separate. The contradiction seems more tolerable when, in Luke’s account, the value of the one who receives the child in Jesus’ name is mentioned first, and only then is added: “Whoever is the least among you all is the greatest” (Luke 9, 48). Here, at least, the latter reflection does not separate the statement about receiving a child from that symbolic act of Jesus placing a child before them, as it does in Matthew’s account. The contradiction seems least problematic when, as we read in the Gospel of Mark, Jesus first sits down, calls the disciples over to him, and tells them: “If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all” (Mark 9, 35), and only then takes a child, places it in the midst of the disciples, and speaks about the merit of the one who receives such a child. But it is precisely here that the contradiction has emerged most sharply. Luke and Matthew at least say that Jesus, before he begins to speak, performs the symbolic action with the child. This is quite in order, but less appropriate if Jesus should sit down beforehand and directly pronounce the teaching which he first wants to give through the symbol. *). Correct! We do not dare to remark that Mark himself, because all these passages deal with the same subject, has already prefixed the sentence which Jesus later utters on the occasion of the absurd demand of the Zebedees, the sentence (C. 10, 43), whoever wants to be great must be the servant, whoever the first, the last. We immediately take back this remark, since it is contradicted by the simplicity of Mark. Luke went first, because he later omitted the story of the Zebedees, Matthew followed him blindly, increased the contradiction and only a later hand inserted this saying (C. 9, 35) and the disturbing introduction to it into the writing of Mark.

*) Wilke, p. 220. 221.

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Mark has directed all the power of his presentation to the one point he has set his sights on. He does not only say what Matthew alone has copied: “whoever receives one of these children receives me”, but has the Lord add: And he that receiveth me receiveth not me, but him that sent me. “This or a similar advice must follow, as is also said in the following saying, omitted here by Matthew, but so beautifully given above (C. 10, 42), of him who gives a disciple even a drink of water (Mark 9, 41.): “Truly, I say to you, do not lose your reward. “A prayer of this kind is also required because of the following description of the terrible punishment that would befall the one who offended one of the little ones who believed in Jesus (Mark 9, 42. Matth. 18, 6). Matthew has omitted this increase, because his work was already full enough for him through the preceding insertions v. 3. 4.

The saying about taking up children, which Paul understands with humorous seriousness as compassion for orphaned children *), can only be understood correctly when we see in it one of those Christian sayings that want to be understood seriously – like the saying about plucking out the eye – but whose meaning mocks itself and lifts itself up in a more general idea. The child who is taken in the name of Jesus – that is, because, as the disciples later say (Mark 9, 41), it belongs to Christ – is not intended to represent the lesser members of the community in a rational way from the outset – otherwise, why would so much seriousness be wasted on the placement of an actual child and the reference to it? – but neither is the statement meant to stop at the mere idea of a child or the absurd notion of a believing child. Instead, the statement gets lost in that unclear darkness of prosaic seriousness and its complete negation, in that darkness which Christian language loves and has created in this grandiose indeterminacy.

*) Ereget. Handb. II, 525.

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The general meaning of the saying – this is certain – is that he too can be great, indeed do everything that makes him worthy of the kingdom of heaven, who does even the smallest thing, or only has the opportunity to do it, if he does it only in the name of Jesus. It cannot be denied that the bringing of a child into the discussion is very formal, very cold, and very forced. The whole meaning of the statement is even spoiled when we have to imagine how embarrassed the child must have felt being used as a tool to teach those adult children.

We have said that the saying about the merit of the smallest kindness shown to the disciples (C. 9, 41) immediately follows the saying about the reception of such children in the writing of Mark: we agree with Wilke’s apt remark that the intervening passage (v. 38 – 40) is inserted by a later hand from the writing of Luke (9, 49 – 50). Because Jesus says: whoever receives one of these children “in my name”, it occurs to John to “take occasion” and to “reply”: Master, we have seen one who casts out demons “in your name” and does not follow us. We have therefore resisted him. But Jesus answered, “Do not hinder him, for he who is not against us is for us.” A man who tightens the threads of the narrative as tightly as Mark would have written the three sentences, “Whoever receives one such child (v. 37), whoever gives you a cup of water (v. 41), whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin (v. 42),” one after the other, and would have been unable to insert such an inappropriate episode here. Only Luke, who knows nothing greater about the seventy than that even the demons were subject to them, was able to insert this episode here for the sake of the mere words “in Jesus’ name.” If, just as Moses’ spirit came upon the seventy of the Old Testament, so Jesus’ spirit also came upon the seventy of the New Testament, and they drove out demons in their master’s name, then the parallel continues. “There, in the Old Testament, a young man complains that two others who stayed behind in the camp and did not go out to the tent with him also prophesied, and he asks Moses to forbid them. But Moses answers, ‘Would that all prophesied!’ (Numbers 11:26-29). That is the story from which we have the counterpart in Luke 9:49-50. Luke 11:23 also places value on exorcising demons and presents it as a matter of interest. The statement of Jesus that is included here, ‘He who is not with me is against me,’ has a similarity to the one expressed here in verse 50: ‘He who is not against us is for us.’ So this passage belongs only to Luke. Luke does not have the verses from Mark 9:41 onwards. He moves on to something else with the interpolated episode, which is linked to the following story of the zeal that John showed against the inhospitable Samaritans and for his Lord and Master (Luke 9:51-56) by the order of things.” *).

*) Wilke p. 635. 636.

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Mark did not yet know that episode. Matthew, who also did not yet read it in the Scripture of the primitive evangelist, passes immediately after the saying of the reception of such a child to the other of the trouble which is given to one of the little ones that believe; Luke could only include this statement later, and he not only included it very late, but also very inappropriately, by giving it the blue sky as a backdrop. (Luk. 17, 1 – 2.)

 

4. The trouble.

After Jesus warns not to cause offense to any of the little ones who believe in him, saying that the punishment for such a transgression would be severe, Matthew 18:7 follows with the statement: “Woe to the world for the offenses, for it is necessary that offenses come, but woe to the man by whom the offense comes.” We need not even remind ourselves that the following verses (v. 8-9) about the limb that should be cut off and thrown away if it causes offense, and the punishment for those who cause offense (v. 6) are necessarily related – the severity of the punishment is the connecting link between both statements, and the progression from the first to the second is based on the reflection that if causing offense to others deserves severe punishment, then we must also be mercilessly strict against the offenses that our own limbs cause. Even without this reflection on the following verses, it is clear that the idea of the necessity of offense (v. 7) is very awkwardly inserted here. This idea can be thought of at any time, but not where the sole purpose of the speech is to warn against any kind of offense. Marcus has developed this warning (9:42-50) from the original Gospel, while Luke has only taken the opportunity to elaborate on the necessity of offense and the misery of the one who causes offense (Luke 17:1-2), wisely omitting the verses from the original Gospel. Matthew has combined the work of his two predecessors.

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5. The high value of the little ones and the lost. 

Matth. 18, 10 – 14.

If, as happens especially in the writing of Mark, but also in Matthew, there is such a detailed discussion of the limbs that give rise to offense, the little ones are forgotten. This is also why they have long been forgotten, because in the saying about offense, when it is said that one should not offend any of these little ones who believe in Jesus, the original substrate of the image is pushed aside. For are children really the ones who can be said to believe in Jesus? It is therefore extremely bewildering and inappropriate when Matthew now speaks of real children again, and the way he speaks of them makes the confusion even more colossal. “Take heed,” Jesus must remark in verse 10-11, “not to despise one of these little ones, for I tell you, their angels in heaven always see the face of my Father in heaven. For the Son of Man came to save the lost.” This is followed by the parable of the lost sheep and, finally, the remark: “So it is also the will of your Father in heaven that not one of these little ones should be lost.

What confusion! It is clear from the mention of the angels that children are meant: they are the guardian angels who watch over the weakness and helplessness of the children! But can the children be called “the lost”? Every word about it would be lost and wasted with diligence and courage. Matthew copied the parable of the lost sheep from Luke and did not copy the following parable of the lost penny and son (Luk. 15, 1 – 32) at the same time, because otherwise it would have been impossible for him to cast an inappropriate retrospective glance at the little ones.

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Matthew has even dulled the sharpness of the irony that is inherent in that glorious story of the lost sheep: of course! for first of all he had to shorten the parable very much in order to get back to his little ones, and the shortening had at the same time to be a weakening, because in order to enforce his game with the little ones he could not let the essence of the enormous contrast that is originally contained in that parable fully emerge. When he has found the lost sheep,” he assures Jesus, “he will rejoice over it more than over the nine and ninety who have not gone astray. I tell you,” says Luke, “there will be more joy in heaven over one repentant sinner than over nine and ninety righteous people who have no need of repentance. Thus writes the evangelist who first worked out these parables of the lost according to the pattern of that original antithesis which he saw before him in the writing of Mark. But we must add that Mark alone worked out the contrast purely, when he contrasted the healthy and the sick, the righteous and the sinners; in the parables of the lost, this ironic contrast only appears at the end, while at the beginning the fallen and the not-fallen confront each other in a completely different way. Luke was therefore not happy when he used the Old Testament *): “I will seek out what is lost” with the antithesis that Mark has worked out. That he gave expression to the same irony in the story of Zacchaeus – but not with any particular luck – has already been mentioned above, and the way in which he weaves it into the story of the anointing of Jesus will be seen later.

*) Ezech. 34, 16 τὸ ἀπολωλὸς ζητήσω καὶ τὸ πλανώμενον ἐπιστρέψω

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We have already had occasion to notice how the old Adam of modern theology does not want to know anything about the sharpness of this Christian irony. He must also grumble against the parable of the prodigal. The thought that the joy over one penitent sinner is greater than over 99 righteous ones, says, for example, de Wette *), is (!) conceived in human terms: man rejoices for the moment (!) more over what he has regained than over what he already possesses. “In religion, on the contrary, this joy is eternal! The “excess weight” of this joy, says de Wette **), cannot be attributed to God. And yet it is said in Luke 15, 7: “in heaven” there will be a preponderance of joy. Yes, replies de Wette, this is said “naturally only in figurative speech”. What is natural, however, is that the natural man does not want to know or acknowledge anything about heavenly things, and what is unnatural is that he wants to force his aversion to heavenly things on heaven itself!

Since we have once engaged with the theologians and the parable of the lost sheep calls upon us to do so, let us say with what satisfaction we hear it when Neander defines the difference between the fable and the parable to the effect that in the latter “the animals are portrayed in such a way as the law of nature entails” ***). Correct! The fable makes the animals act intelligently, freely and rationally, because it is the mockery of the servant against despotism and his witty self-liberation from the degradation to which a brutal despotism has condemned him. The fable can almost be called poetry, while the parable is the serious prose of religious necessity, lets the animal be an animal and ascribes understanding and will, power and wisdom only to the lord and master, the shepherd.

*) l, 2, 77.

**) 1, 1, 154.

***) L. J. Ch. p. 174.

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6. Reconciliation.

Matth. 18, 15 – 35.

Between the preceding and the following exhortation to reconciliation, the evangelist seemed to see an internal connection in the idea that humans should be reconciliatory towards their fellow brethren who have wronged them, just as God shows care towards the lost. However, firstly, the evangelist should have indicated this connection in a transitional sentence, at least. Secondly, we must note that such an indication would have been surprisingly difficult for him, since there is no connection at all. Is the tendency of that parable of the lost to depict God as reconciliatory, or is it rather ironic towards the righteous, towards the healthy? Is not the ironic dialectic between the concept of the righteous and sinners its only content? So, what is the prosaic exhortation to forgive one’s neighbor doing here?

And even if the best connection were inherently present, it would be completely undermined by the way in which Matthew elaborates on the commandment of reconciliation. Is it appropriate when, in a context where reconciliation should be commanded, the painful judicial procedure is commanded, according to which one should first confront the brother who has wronged us alone, then, if it was unsuccessful, bring two others to confront him, then, if that too is fruitless, report him to the church, and finally, if he does not listen to the church, regard him as a heathen and a tax collector?

In the following, the author continues to write in what he believes to be the best context when he says (v. 18): “whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and so on.” And when it goes on to say (v. 19-20): “if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.” However, these statements are neither related to each other nor to the preceding one. Even if we were to understand v. 18 in terms of the power of excommunication, it was only previously mentioned (v. 17) that the disobedient person excludes himself from the church, or if v. 17 is supposed to present the church as an absolute judge, it is as a church, as a community, while the subjects to whom the power of binding and loosing is transferred in v. 18 are the disciples. And in v. 19-20, there is not even a mention of the function of judgment, but only of the power of community in the matter of prayer.

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It would therefore be ridiculous to try to find a semblance of coherence when v. 21 returns to the subject, namely Peter asks: Lord, how often may my brother offend against me and should I forgive him? Perhaps seven times? Before we hear how the Lord answers: No, not seven times, but seven and seventy times. and before we hear the following parable of that king who punished his servant, whom he had forgiven a great debt, because he would not forgive even a lesser debt to his fellow servant – so before we hear all this, we must cut through this confused tangle – it deserves no more – and ask, whether Peter, if there is to be any talk of reconciliation, was allowed from the outset and without any cause to offend his brother so badly and shamefully that he asked with the fastidious earnestness of the quisque praesumitur malus whether his brother was allowed to sin against him seven times before he had the right to intervene with the ray of banishment?

If only Matthew had been content to copy Luke literally: “Take heed: if thy brother offend against thee, warn him; and if he repent, forgive him. And if he offend thee seven times in a day, and return unto thee seven times in a day, saying, I am sorry; forgive him” (Luke 17:3, 4). Behold! Thus speaks not only a man, but also a man who first writes down such reflections. In his poor compiling, jumbled manner, Matthew did not even realize that he writes like an inhumane person.

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“Be careful: if your brother sins against you, warn him, and if he repents, forgive him!” That is just and humane! Matthew took this as an opportunity to describe the hierarchical chain of command all the way to the point where the brother is thrown out of the church! (— Or does Fritzsche want us to explicitly note that the church, the ekklesia, is the Christian church, not the “synagogue of Satan”, not the Jewish community, but the church in which the hierarchs bind and loose and in which, on the other hand — because here is where the contradictions reside — even two or three, when gathered in the name of Jesus, can be sure that the Lord is among them? Is time and paper worth nothing? — Precisely because both are worth a lot, we will not dwell further on how strange it is that Matthew wants the brother to be punished in the presence of two people in the second stage of the chain of command, because on the testimony of two or three witnesses ——– no more!). Matthew thought of the Old Testament provision on the number of witnesses in the wrong place; we also will not further point out how Matthew, only for a very superficial resemblance, now gives the power he gave to Peter above to the disciples in general and then adds a word about the power and significance of the church community: the whole thing is very poorly composed.

“And if your brother sins against you seven times a day, and returns to you seven times, saying, ‘I repent,’ you must forgive him!” It is trivial; this is how someone writes who first comes up with a saying of this kind and still knows what he is aiming at. Matthew focuses on the seven times, which in Luke is only an intensification of the assumed possibility — (“: and if he sins seven times”) — in a one-sided way, takes it awkwardly prosaic, lets Peter speak very clumsily as if he were sure that his brother could sin against him seven times a day – Matthew left out this necessary specification – and now the response must surpass the crude assumption by saying that he must show forbearance “until the” seventy-seventh offense.

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Luke, too, has a parable which recommends the necessity of conciliation, and he, too, has placed it in an external context with the parables of the prodigal – it is the parable of the unjust steward. At the end of this parable it says: Make friends with the mammon of unrighteousness. Weisse has taken the last step towards resolving the difficulty when he declares the words “with the unrighteous mammon” to be those “which Jesus did not speak” – we must declare them to be those which do not belong to the parable (Luke 16:1-9), and even dare to call them such, which were not inserted into the text by Luke, but only by a later hand from v. 11. Weisse *) first correctly explained the meaning of the parable: just as that steward earned his master’s favour by boldly paying his debtors their bills, so we too should “regard ourselves as God’s appointed stewards of his great household and behave in exactly the same way, and no differently, towards our master’s debtors.”

*) II. 162. 163.

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Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 3

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§ 71.

The power of faith.

Mark 9, 14 – 29.

According to the reports of Matthew and Luke, when Jesus exclaimed “O faithless and perverse generation, how long shall I be with you and bear with you?” in response to the father’s complaint that the disciples were unable to heal his son, it seems certain that this accusation was directed towards the disciples because they had shown themselves to be weak and inept in the absence of their master. However, in the account of Mark, the matter is not so certain. While some significant manuscripts read “Jesus said to them”, others omit any further specification and thus attempt to cast doubt on the reading “Jesus said to him” (the father of the boy). This decision is inconclusive, as the latter reading may be difficult, and the view of Matthew and Luke may have been imposed by later readings of the original gospel. But when we see how Jesus accuses the father of the sick boy of lacking faith in the following passage, when he makes a bitter accusation that everything is possible for the believer, and the man tearfully declares “I believe, Lord; help my unbelief!” it seems certain that this accusation is directed towards the father of the boy and is based on the assumption that – how shall we express this enormous and most fearful transcendence? – that a person in faith can move mountains and cast them into the sea, so the father could have healed his son from the outset.

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Calvin notes that Jesus usually treats people kindly, even when they make a somewhat inconvenient request, but this time the man, who was pained by his son’s illness, asked for help modestly and humbly. But why should an evangelist not be harsh, cruelly transcendent and exuberant at times, especially when this harsh exuberance is rooted in the nature of faith?

In short, it is highly probable that the Fourth understood this passage of the Gospel correctly when he borrowed from it (C. 4, 48) the phrase that the father of a sick son was harshly approached by Jesus, whom he asked for help.

Only afterwards, when the company had returned home, does Mark allow the disciples to come forward so that they too can learn what they had been lacking. They ask Jesus why they were unable to drive out the demon, and now they learn – as the congregation later understood the matter and believed they had to fight against the devil – that this kind can only be driven out by prayer and fasting. Luke left out this section because he wanted to report shortly afterwards how the Seventy simply drove out the evil spirits in the name of Jesus. Matthew, however, keeps the question of the disciples, only allowing it to be raised off the battlefield, and enriches Jesus’ answer with a saying that was delivered after the withering of the fig tree. Luke had taken this saying about faith that moves mountains out of its context, particularly by introducing it with the clumsy request of the disciples: “Lord, give us more faith” like a lightning bolt falling from a blue sky, and, to reveal to us where he got this saying from, turning the mountain into a mulberry-fig tree. Matthew takes the saying out of its isolated position in Luke, turns the tree back into its original form, the mountain, but does not feel prevented from putting the same saying into Jesus’ mouth again when he finds it in Mark’s scripture.

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Of course, it is a contradiction when the Lord, in one breath, demands faith and fasting and prayer as the basic condition for one and the same work, but the same contradiction is already contained in the original report, when the Lord, before the conversation with the disciples, recommended faith to the father of the sick man, as if he could have cured the sickness of his son through it. Matthew only drew this contradiction closer together and very rightly seized upon it when he lifted that isolated saying out of Luke’s writing, for Luke had taken the disciples’ request: give us faith! (C. 17, 6) to the speech of that man: Lord, I believe, help my unbelief! Thus, in Matthew’s writing, all the elements that belong together have been reunited.

It has been wondered why the Fourth Gospel says nothing about demons that Jesus had cast out, nothing about this struggle with the kingdom of the devil. Some critics thought that he did not want to know about these associates of the devil because of his supposedly greater education, while others thought that he had simply not known about the exorcisms. We can now answer: he had read the Gospel of Mark and therefore said nothing about that struggle with the kingdom of Satan, because he allowed the Lord to fight against Satan and his evil in a different, more comprehensive, or rather more abstract way, perhaps also because he felt the role that demons played in the original gospel. In his writing, which has entirely different messengers of the Messiah and in which the Lord preaches about himself from the beginning, demons were superfluous as these corner preachers and betrayers of the secret. Under these circumstances, it is also understandable that the accusation that Jesus had the devil, if the Fourth Gospel still made it (Ch. 7, 20; 8, 48), had to be rather incorrectly or very weakly made. We have demonstrated in the criticism of the Fourth Gospel what this reversal and weakening consists of.

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Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 3

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61

§ 70.

The Second Coming of Elijah.

Mark 9, 11 – 13.

The omission of the conversation between Jesus and the disciples about Elijah was filled by Luke in a strange way, that he let the Lord leave the mountain the following day (Luke 9, 37). Matthew, who would have done best if he had at least omitted that dialogue, also overreaches himself somewhat when, on the contrary, he attempts to connect it with the transfiguration. “What, then, do the scholars of Christ say,” ask the disciples, as they came down from the mountain with their Master, “that Elijah must come first?” The question of the disciples presupposes the doubt of the disciples, whether Elijah must yet come, nay, it presupposes the certainty that he need not come at all, and it is therefore only intended to form an objection against the assertion of the scribes. If we now, since neither this doubt nor this certainty is founded in the foregoing, should nevertheless perhaps venture the utmost and explain the question of the disciples thus: “Elijah has just spoken with you, why then should we still expect him, or why do the scribes say that he must appear first, that is, before you? – But even this is of no avail, for the fact that Elijah appears once to the Lord and converses with him cannot be called the coming of which Malachi spoke.

Like the transition which Matthew made, the question itself, which we find in Mark, is made late. Matthew formed that inappropriate transitional formula, Mark created the question and answer and placed both here, not only because Elijah had just appeared and been mentioned, but because now that the Messiahship of Jesus had been explicitly discussed and acknowledged in all its attributes, it was time that the significance of the forerunner was also acknowledged and that he was explicitly called his forerunner by the Lord. Jesus’ response is the expression of later religious reflection on the history, and the question of the disciples is also poorly formulated in the scripture of Mark, as it presupposes in an exaggerated way the thought that it would be impossible to still need another Elijah in the disciples’ minds.

62

Jesus’ response *), that Elijah has already come and that he has suffered as it is written about the Son of Man, seems to belong completely to Mark, i.e. the original gospel writer seems to have already developed this comparison between the fate that the Messiah must suffer and that which the baptizer Elijah suffered, since Matthew (17:12) would not have easily come up with it at the corresponding location, and Luke in the reworking of this conversation about the Elijah-baptizer (Luke 7:33-34) also reveals that in the original account there was a statement that the people had rejected the baptizer and the Messiah in the same way.

*) And that as Fritzsche and Wilke rightly transpose the text: Mark 9, 13. 12, ελιας μεν . . . . αλλα λεγω υμιν, οτι και ηλιας εληλυθεν και εποιησαν αυτω οσα ηθελησαν, καθως γεγραπται επι τον υιον του ανθρωπου ινα πολλλα παθη και εξουδενωθη.

The fourth makes the Baptist himself declare that the saying of the prophet Isaiah was fulfilled in him by the preacher in the wilderness, but gives him occasion to declare that he was not Ellas. Both are equally inappropriate! He reads in the Scriptures of Luke that the Baptist had once had occasion to declare that he was not the Messiah, he makes this occasion an oskficial one, and as he now in a very exaggerated manner sets it up that the Baptist should first answer all the questions of the inquirers until he declares himself to be that preacher in the wilderness, so he presents the matter clumsily enough in such a way that mair also asked the Baptist whether he was the Ellas and the latter answered the question in the negative. The “who do you think that I am? I am not” of Luke (Acts 13, 25, Luk 3, 15) has been blown out of proportion by the Fourth.

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Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 3

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21

§ 68.

The prophecies of Jesus of his Passion.

Mark 8, 31	Luk. 9, 21. 22	Matth. 16, 21
Mark 9, 31. 32	Luk. 9, 43-45	Matth. 17, 22
Mark 10, 33. 34	Luk. 18, 31-34	Matth. 20, 17
Matth. 26, 2

Three times all three synoptics – to put it more vaguely with regard to Luke – let the Lord proclaim His suffering, His death and His resurrection in advance before His entry into Jerusalem; but in the way in which they increase the certainty of these prophecies and insert them into the whole of their writings, they differ from each other.

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1. The increase of certainty.

After Peter’s confession, as reported in Mark 8:31, Jesus opened up to the disciples that “the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again.” After the Transfiguration, as they traveled incognito through Galilee – because the Lord did not want to attract attention, the manner of his appearance was already somewhat subdued and he wanted to enter the path of death without delay – he told the disciples the same thing, only more generally stating that “the Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men,” etc. Finally, as they were already on the way to Jerusalem (Mark 10:32-34), the prophecy becomes more specific or rather so specific that it is almost nothing but the program of the play whose performance is imminent. “See,” Jesus said to the twelve, “we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the scribes. They will condemn him to death and hand him over to the Gentiles, who will mock him and spit on him, flog him and kill him. And after three days he will rise again.”

Whatever one may think about these prophecies and Jesus’ exact knowledge of the brutalities he would experience in the last hours, it is enough to say that in the Gospel of Mark, the increasing specificity of the prophecies is quite appropriate.

Luke has not changed much. The first prophecy he leaves unchanged, the second he abbreviates; Jesus only says: the Son of man shall be delivered into the hands of men, for Jesus has to waste too many words beforehand to call the disciples to attention – “Receive these words in your ears! “and the evangelist has to remark far too much on the disciples’ inability to hear these words to leave room for writing out Mark in full. The third prophecy he leaves (C. 18, 31 – 33) also essentially unchanged, except that he thought he had to change the active construction to the passive, and at most he was entitled to do so, since he believed he had to change the words “the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the scribes and they will condemn him to death” in Mark’s Gospel to “everything that is written about the Son of Man in the prophets.”

23

Here, again, Matthew reveals to us the abstract nature of the later perspective, which makes the anachronisms that are already inherent in the original religious view even greater, and wants to see everything as already completed from the beginning, even barbarically blurring the small nuances of the original religious reflection. Immediately after Peter’s confession, in his abstract and anticipatory manner, Matthew has the Lord say that “he must now go to Jerusalem” and suffer much, etc. – followed by the prophecy that is the first in Mark’s Gospel. Matthew includes the second prophecy unchanged, at least without burdening it with an addition, but in the third, in which the brutalities of Jesus’ opponents are listed, he cannot resist removing one, the spitting, – so much was he dependent on the number of words! – and instead has the Lord say that he will be crucified (Matthew 20:19).

But he pushed the definiteness even further. Mark tells us how two days before Easter the priests had decided on the death of Jesus, but had postponed the execution of their decision until after the feast; He also tells us how the betrayal of Judas gave the priests the opportunity to carry out their plan earlier, and finally, when he lets Jesus speak of his death and of the betrayer during the meal of the Passover evening, he knows that we will believe that Jesus was not surprised by the passion events against his knowledge, just as he also shows us how Jesus voluntarily went to meet it when he gave himself up in the garden of Gethsemane, when he knew that the betrayer would find him.

24

Where the facts speak so loudly and clearly, a prophecy about what is imminent would have been very unnecessary and even out of place, especially since Jesus had already concluded his account of the last things in the previous discourse and uttered prophecies that far surpass the fate that now awaits him. Only before Jesus enters the scene of his suffering were prophecies in their place. Nevertheless, Matthew could not resist having the Lord tell the disciples at the end of that discourse on the last things and at the beginning of the Passion narrative (Matthew 26:1-2): “You know that in two days’ time it will be Passover, and the Son of Man will be handed over to be crucified.”

By considering the position of these three prophecies, we will reveal their origin and the origin of their context in one fell swoop, and we will also have the opportunity to answer some of the most important questions of criticism – although these pitiful questions cannot really be called important, because their solution reveals their whole misery.

 

2. The position of the three prophecies in the writing of Mark.

Each time these three prophecies in the writing of Mark have an inner relation to the preceding one, each time they are followed by an event which contrasts with them, which gives Jesus cause for a rebuke, whereupon Jesus again has cause to instruct his own in a more general form.

 

1. a) The first prophecy.

Peter acknowledged Jesus as the Messiah, but now the Lord shows the disciples the dark side of the messianic image by saying that he must suffer. After highlighting the internal contrast of the messianic ideal in this way, the other contrast is presented, which is formed by the selfishness of the world. Peter represents this selfishness, and the Lord rebukes him, calling him Satan, because he is focused on the human aspect rather than the divine. Jesus then teaches the crowd and his disciples about the duty of self-denial in a more general way.

25

Whoever wants to follow him must deny himself and take up his cross. For whoever wants to keep his soul will lose it; but whoever loses his soul for my sake and – what the two others leave out – for the sake of the Gospel, will keep it. What good would it do a man if he gained the whole world and was deprived of his soul? (i.e. if his life were taken from him, he would not be able to enjoy his gain. Similarly, spiritual life is a prerequisite, without which nothing has worth or even existence for humans.) Luke has taken the nerve out of the saying when he abandons the expression in which the soul is apparently distinguished from the ego and held up to it as valuable, and instead has put the sensible expression: “when one loses oneself and is deprived of oneself. “Or what can man give so that he may redeem his soul? For whosoever shall be ashamed of me and of none of my words – therefore the mention of the Gospel is original and necessary – among this adulterous generation, of him also shall the Son of man be ashamed, when he cometh in the glory of his Father with the holy angels. (Matthew has overlooked the fact that the passage is designed to emphasise the importance of the confession and writes in his tendency to move from the abstract to the general: “the Son of Man will come . . . . . . and then he will repay each one according to his deeds”). And Jesus said to them: “Truly I say to you, there are some among those standing here who will not taste death until they see the kingdom of God – (Matth, correctly explaining your context, writes: the Son of Man in his! Kingdom) – come in power.

26

Note not only the position and arrangement of the contrasting elements, but also their extension and spread. The historical account is compact, intense, and the contrasts are not kept far apart, but all are equally elaborated. The concluding speech (Mark 8:34-38, 9:1) – as if the sermon on the preceding theme or the moral of the story – is not excessively prolonged.

 

1. b) The second prophecy.

The second prophecy forms the inner contrast or complement to the transfiguration, and the outer contrast to the image of the suffering Messiah must be the selfish dispute of the disciples as to which of them is the greater (C. 9, 30-34). Jesus rebukes these children, who always seem to want to remain children, and – if these sentences belong to the Mark – is given the opportunity by a remark of John to further consider the duties of his own.

 

1. c) The third prophecy.

Jesus had in vain exhorted a rich man to renounce his possessions, to follow Him and to take up the cross (C. 10, 21. 22). On the other hand, the Messiah declares that he is ready to face the suffering that awaits him, but at the same time he has to reject the senseless claims of two attackers who fight for the next places on his side. No sooner had he done so than the other disciples, grumbling at the insolence of the two, gave him the opportunity to speak again of the duty of self-denial which each of his followers must practise. —-

Everywhere, then, the same structure, the same relationship of the group, the same contrasts, yes, the same thoughts and even the same turns of phrase, transitions, constructions and words!

How beautiful, the theologian will perhaps say, when he is forced to notice the arrangement of the reports and to see in the first place, how beautiful, how marvellous! We may already say: what poverty and paucity of invention!

27

But, we must add, in Mark we find these two turns of phrase always purely executed, the groupings appropriately arranged, the contrasts in their correct proportion and in their proper tension. We find none of this in Matthew and Luke, because they no longer knew the tendency and inner context of these passages in the Gospel.

 

3. The position of the three prophecies in Luke’s writing.

It has already been noted that Luke made his account less consistent when he left out the dialogue between Peter and Jesus after the first prophecy. It is also not necessary to mention that he gave the two first prophecies a false position by including so much between them and the note that Jesus was really serious about traveling to Jerusalem. He presents the second prophecy (Luke 9:44) in the same context in which he found it in Mark. Although the third prophecy (Luke 18:31) also follows the account of the rich man, Luke does not include the request of the sons of Zebedee – he believed that he could use the details that Mark provides in connection with this third prophecy at another place more effectively, as we will see later.

It is clear that if he twice omitted a necessary part of the original account, he no longer knew its tendency, and if he communicates the second prophecy with its original setting, he only acted as a mere copyist.

Luke gave his reflection a different direction, a direction that directly relates to the intelligence of the disciples, while Mark, in his vivid contrasts, only presents the matter in such a way that the disciples were not yet capable of practicing the self-denial that Jesus demanded of them and which he himself was about to practice to the highest degree.

28

After the healing of the possessed man, which follows the transfiguration, Mark gives no concluding formula to instruct us about the impression the miracle made on the people; we have become sufficiently acquainted with his manner to know why: he really wants the following incidents, which form contrasts to the preceding, to follow as such contrasts. Jesus heals the possessed man, he comes home with the disciples, they ask him why they could not cast out the devilish spirit, Jesus explains to them, “and as they set out, they travelled through Galilee, and he would not let himself be known. “For – we now learn why he wanted to travel incognito – he instructed the disciples that “the time of suffering was not far off. Right! Thus the thought of suffering stands in clear contrast to the preceding, also to the transfiguration. No sooner has Jesus arrived in Capernaum than the other contrast develops: Jesus asks the disciples what quarrel they had on the way and now has to chastise them because of their jealousy about precedence.

Luke concludes the account with all that has gone before, when he immediately, after helping the demoniac to health, remarks that everyone was amazed – everyone! that is, also the crowd that was present down at the mountain. Now the tension between the word “suffering” and the word “transfiguration” is not only removed, but when Luke says: When all were amazed at all that Jesus did,” and when we are to think that Jesus, who now wants to speak of his sufferings, is alone with his disciples, we lose all sense of hearing and seeing. Could he not have found another formula to distinguish the disciples from all those who were just now marvelling at the greatness of God? He could not. Enough, after Jesus has spoken of his suffering, it is said: “But they understood not this word, and it was hid from them, lest they should understand it; and they feared to ask him concerning this word. ” (C. 9, 43-45.)

29

Mark did not need this contrast. A foreign hand has bestowed upon him the reflection of Luke and inserted it into his writing: (C. 9, 32) “but they understood not the word, and feared to ask him ” *). Matthew saved the later glossator the trouble by turning the matter into a spiritual one and writing: (17, 23) and they became very sad.

*) Wilke, p. 504.

Luke has become so entrenched in his conception of the contrast that he places the same remark just as broadly and almost literally as after the second also after the third, although it is he who has Jesus refer to the prophecies of the prophets on this occasion. (18, 31-34) If Jesus could remind the disciples of the prophecies, i.e. if he could refer to a dogma as he does here, i.e. if he could refer to a dogma as a Christian preacher can do, then the disciples must have known what he was talking about. Mark incorporated the prophecies of O.T. into the speeches of Jesus himself and therefore, among other things, did not yet think of the crucifixion, as Matthew had the temerity to do. He speaks only of being overawed, scourged, humiliated and spat upon.

We come to Matthew.

 

4. The stater in the fish’s mouth. 

Matth. 17, 21-27.

Peter’s being given the keys of the kingdom of heaven, and his being raised to the rock on which the church is to rest securely, both of these things, because they are inserted too superficially into the structure of the original gospel, have already been moved back to the place where they belong.

Before we move on from the rich man’s dispatch to Jesus’ third prophecy of His sufferings, time will also take too long: but here too it will be very easy for us to remove the interpolated parable of the denarii (Matth. 20, 1-16).

30

As for the second prophecy, here we have only to remove the intruder who wants to make the progress of the interest resound too annoyingly to the contrast which is unfit for it. We will cut off the excessive extension of the conclusion later in order to restore the correct measure of the original representation. That intruder is the miracle of the stater in the fish’s mouth.

When they were travelling in Galilee, says Matthew, Jesus told the disciples about the future of his sufferings, but the evangelist does not say that Jesus travelled through Galilee with the intention of going straight to Jerusalem, he does not say that Jesus travelled incognito through Galilee and explained to the disciples the striking nature of this journey, pointing to the future of his sufferings. He said nothing of all this, because on the arrival of the company in Capernaum he wanted to give the Lord another opportunity to perform an extraordinary miracle. If the people who demanded the taxes should admonish Peter and his master, Jesus was not allowed to travel incognito. But if Jesus does not travel incognito, if he does not travel through Galilee to continue the way beyond the province, then this prophecy is not motivated: if the disciples’ dispute about precedence does not fall out on that journey on which Jesus spoke of his sufferings, then the two sides of the contrast are torn out of their tension, and if Matthew, after he has performed the miracle with that statue, cannot help himself but say that on that day the disciples approached Jesus with the question as to which of them was the greatest, then the lameness of the disciples’ childishness has become excessive. Yet Mark is still so reserved that he presents the matter as if Jesus had asked the disciples what they had discussed on the way, and since they had kept silent out of shame, by means of his keen insight he saw through their dispositions and knew their quarrel. 9, 47), Jesus saw through the thoughts of their heart; but Matthew, who had to form a new transition after the interpolated episode of the Stater, formed it so badly that he lets the disciples step shamelessly before Herm with their childish question and that he even, when he lets them ask: “Who then is (!) the greatest?” he must betray that this question is connected with something that has gone before. Only he has so clumsily formed this hindsight from the preceding that it now appears as if Jesus had previously given the childish disciples a well-founded reason for their question. We only need to recognise this confusion and bring together what belongs together in order to crush the episode of the stater.

31

The question of whether the tax Jesus is being asked to pay is the Roman poll tax or the legal temple tax should not be raised again. When Jesus comes home *) and precedes Peter with the question whether “the kings of the world” levy interest on their children, and when Peter answers: rather on the foreigners, he adds: therefore the sons are free, it is clear that he wants to draw the conclusion from the custom of the “worldly” kings, how the “heavenly” king also treats his children. The Jewish people are like a group of foreigners and adopted servants to the heavenly king, whose children are Jesus and his disciples.

*) Matth. 17, 25 και ότε εισήλθεν εις την οικίαν and  V. 24 ελθοντων δε αυτων εις καπερναουμ, is still the formula of Mark C. 9, 33: και ηλθεν εις καπερναουμ και εν τη οικια γενομενος επηρωτα. Matth. writes προέφθασεν by making the marvellous perspicacity which Jesus there evidences in Mark more glaringly noticeable to the reader for ſhis purpose. Jesus knows what Peter has encountered and immediately speaks about the matter, just as he knows what the disciples have discussed on the way to Mark and seeks to bring them to confession.

Matthew formed this story out of the later and only later possible view, according to which Jesus and his followers were regarded as the true children of God and the Jews as servants, whom Jehovah, if he willed, could also bid farewell to again. The fourth evangelist borrowed this view from Matthew, but confused his treatment of it by developing the definition of servitude even further, without distinguishing this further development from the form in which he found it in the Scriptures of his predecessor.*)

*) Joh. 8, 31-36. Herewith is determined that which we Crit. d. ev. Gesch. d. Joh. p. 328 still left undefined.

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Matthew has placed the miracle in the wrong place here, as it is very unbecoming for someone who has just admitted that he must suffer to find a divine law too burdensome and its observance indecent. It is the same contradiction into which Matthew fell above when he copied Mark’s first prophecy of Jesus’ sufferings, for if the Messiah must suffer and demands unlimited self-denial from his followers, it was very inappropriate to bestow the keys of the kingdom of heaven on Peter and legitimize hierarchical pride in general.

But in any case, even apart from its surroundings, the tendency of that fish anecdote is an unworthy one. It is at least unworthy how the exalted man disputes the obligation to pay interest, denies it for his person and for his own, yet acknowledges it again by paying the interest, but, by bowing, is at the same time endeavouring to secure for himself the recognition of his exaltedness by the amusingly ironic way in which he pays the interest.

 

5. The origin of Jesus’ prophecies of his suffering.

If we have now succeeded in restoring the original report, then his last hour will also have struck.

33

Weisse says *) that the “scene between Jesus and Peter” which followed the first prophecy was, as he somewhat forcefully expresses it, “drawn directly from the mouth of this disciple by the reporter” and that it “stands as a powerful argument against any doubt about the factual correctness of such proclamations from Jesus’ mouth.” However, regarding these prophecies, which – we may say immediately, without intending to make the criticism that will lead to this result useless or save us from it – are not based on success, but, together with the gospel accounts of suffering and resurrection, are modeled on the Old Testament ideal, we need only look at them humanely – and criticism must be humane – to be sure that as they stand – and in a form other than as they stand, they do not exist for either the rationalist or the believer – no living person speaks like that. Only a book speaks like that.

*) I, 531

The fact that they occur just three times, and that their definiteness increases appropriately in the original report, proves their authorial origin, an origin which, moreover, Matthew also proves when he makes their definiteness even greater and adds to the three a fourth, an even more definite one.

It would be unnecessary, especially since it is such an easy task in any case, to show the nullity of the tradition hypothesis everywhere, or to trace it back to its nothingness, i.e., to the imagination of scholars. We took over the business this time in order to give Mark his last honour. Gfrörer says that the three prophecies are basically one and the same. (Correctly understood, we admit this. But he takes it incorrectly. In the Christian Church the tradition had been preserved that Jesus, before his arrival in Jerusalem, had foretold the destinies awaiting him there. “So tradition had such a strong memory that it did not allow a weak “hint” to be lost! As if it were not much easier for the faithful to put the strongest and most fluent speeches about the future into the mouth of the Lord! As if the believer as such did not have to be convinced that the Lord foreknew everything exactly as it was to come! – In short, Gfrörer now thinks: “Because of the ambiguity which lay in this determination of the time, the prophecy was indented by means of three different sagas in three special places” *). But we know nothing more of such a framework into which various – we can hardly write the word – legends or – or ghosts again inserted the ghost of a legend or tradition – or what shall we call the absurdity? – interpolated. The three prophecies arose where we read them written, first, all together and in the order in which we see them before us. They came into being with their surroundings, which form the necessary contrast to them. Mark also knows how to write, as a man writes who creates such things, for he remarks, when he wants to report the third prophecy, that Jesus again saw the twelve and spoke to them of his future. “Again!” (παλιν C. 10, 32) after he had already told them twice about the near future.

*) Die heil. Sage, ll, 56. 64.

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Mark first formed everything, everything, the prophecies and the contrasts belonging to them. Calvin has very well noticed the difficulty that now arises from the triple number, at least from the repeated repetition of this prophecy, but he has removed the difficulty very badly when he says, “although the apostles had already been taught before about the end of the Lord, yet they had not made sufficient progress in their understanding, and Jesus now repeats anew what he had already said often. ” But this would be a very unskilful teacher, who is content merely to repeat something anew **) when he knows that his pupils have not grasped what he had told them before. What teacher will chase down the same tirade in such a case? The teacher who really deserves the name will indeed take up the matter “anew,” but he will take it up from a “new” side, and of course precisely from the side which he knows was not yet clear to his pupils. This is how real, human teachers act, but they do not recite the same formula.

**) de iutegro repelit, quod saepius dixerat.

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Mark formed these prophecies and had the Lord pronounce them three times, so that he would follow the law of the holy trinity and at the same time have the opportunity to add an artistic enhancement to his writing.

The enhancement lies not only in the prophecies, but also in the contrasting surroundings.

The background is first formed by the confession of Peter, in which the recognition of Jesus as the Messiah first emerges, the second time – in the transfiguration – the background is already more brilliant, and the third time the glory of Jesus and his kingdom is secured in a negative way, in that the rich and powerful of this world are humiliated in that rich man.

After each of these prophecies, Jesus has the opportunity to shame and rebuke human thoughts and behavior, first by scolding Peter for not wanting to hear about suffering, then after the second prophecy, by rejecting a more definite arrogance and the desire for superiority in general, and finally, after the third prophecy, the sons of Zebedee come with their request for seats at his right and left hand.

Who is now so bold as to deny that not only these three prophecies, but each of them in turn, originally belong together with their contrastive surroundings, that the prophecies, as they each follow one another with their surroundings, form a whole, and that as this whole they owe their origin to a single pen, to the plastic art of one man, to the invention of Mark?

Very well! Let us hear the last proof! If Mark did not want to compose too badly – and he did indeed compose quite skilfully – i.e. if he did not want to place the teaching of his Lord too low, he had to present the matter in such a way that the disciples, who were so often to be reminded of his suffering, would also be instructed about it more closely. In fact, this instruction always followed regularly. But how? After an event that Jesus could not foresee had happened. Did Jesus know that Peter would speak as he did, did he know that the disciples on the journey through Galilee would argue about precedence, that the Zebedees would come up with this senseless idea? Did he know that his disciples would commit such childish pranks? No, he did not know. But he should have known them better and should have taught them immediately when he spoke of suffering and especially when he thought he would have to speak of it more often. But no, he did not have to: the Lord of Mark knows that he only has to wait a few moments or until he returns from Caesarea Philippi to Capernaum to get the opportunity for these teachings.

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That is to say, Mark has formed everything in such a way that what otherwise follows in one flow in the intelligible world complements itself in separate plastic formations – a complementation that is only possible in the world of ideal conception, in the real world it would be the opposite.

But not everyone who undertakes to create a world of ideal perception is therefore a master. The evangelists are not masters. There was only one Greek, there is only one Homer. The ideal world of the Gospels lacks the harmony of humanity, of moral, human motives, that harmony which even the contrasts must not lack. The ideal world of the sacred writers is a prosaic and disgustingly disjointed world.

These three contrasts must follow the three prophecies, so that a sermon on the necessity of self-denial, suffering and mutual subordination follows.

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But then, as Weisse demands, we are to be forced to devour such positive stones and blocks, such figures of extremely “individual truth”, or to worship them as fetishes? If Jesus has clearly said that he must suffer and just added that he will rise on the third day, should Peter then come and say that this should not happen? When Jesus speaks of suffering and death, should the disciples behave like children and argue about who is the greatest? When Jesus speaks again of suffering, shall the Zebedees know nothing better than to think how to get ahead of the others in order to take the seats on the right and left of the Lord?

It would be pointless to say that if Jesus knew what kind of childish people he was dealing with, he should either not have spoken of such things to them at all, or if he really wanted to, he should have taken them to the children’s school. It would be pointless to say explicitly that if Jesus had spoken so clearly of his suffering, the disciples, even children, would have understood him. Jesus did not make these disclosures to the disciples, he did not have to trouble himself with their childishness; Peter, the Twelve and the Zebedees had only to act so incomprehensibly foolishly that Jesus might be given the opportunity, i.e. that the evangelist – if we may misuse the word – might have vivid occasions to set forth the meaning of suffering in the kingdom of God or to indicate the applications to which the spirit should apply the thought of his Saviour’s suffering for the salvation of his soul.

If Jesus had to prophesy his suffering in advance and describe those last hours down to the crudest coincidences, so that his omniscience and the voluntariness with which he approached the suffering might become clear, the childish imaginings of his disciples serve to put the seal of divine sublimity on his calmness and self-assurance for the evangelical view.

Whoever still dares to take these prophecies as the words of Jesus, may make even the smallest detail comprehensible to the sensible, may tell us, for example, what the disciples must have thought when Jesus asked them to take up their “cross”. Bengel is right, and he will continue to be right until evidence to the contrary is produced, when he says that the cross was not used by the Jews in a figurative or literal sense. He is right when he says that Jesus alludes to his cross, but he is wrong when he tries to explain the possibility of such an allusion by saying that Jesus had already carried the cross in secret *). Did the disciples know this, or had they noticed it, or had Jesus shown it to them?

*) to Matth. 10, 38: alludit ad crucem suam, quam ipse jam tum ferebat occulto.

38

Luke has formed a prophecy on his own, which we still have to consider, in order to answer a question in which it has again played a great role.

 

6. Jerusalem, the murderess of the prophets, and the festival journeys of Jesus.

The situation in which some of the Pharisees warn Jesus that Herod is after his life no longer exists for us. Go,” Jesus answers his enemies, who are very worried at this time, “and tell this fox: behold, I cast out demons and heal diseases today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will come to an end (Luk 13:31, 32). 32) – which is different from the words of an evangelist who knows so much about how the demons obey the name of Jesus, to whom the healing of the sick seems to be one of the most important aspects of the business of Jesus, and who has very clumsily placed the account after three days, which is lost in the original prophecy of Jesus, in order to use it as a rubric for the main business of Jesus and the completion of his course. “Only that I must walk today and tomorrow and the day after, for it is not possible for a prophet to perish outside Jerusalem” v. 33. – thus another, also not particularly happy application of the three days and a somewhat too dogmatic transformation of the words of Jesus, which Luke reads in Mark and which he himself writes down again C. 18, 31. Where is the dogma written that no prophet can perish outside Jerusalem, or what antecedence could Jesus bring to a dogma of this kind? Does an evangelist, in a passage so well invented, write the further reflection (v. 34) “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets, and stonest them that are sent unto thee, how often have I wished to gather thy children together, as a bird gathereth her young under her wings, and ye would not? Behold, your house shall be left desolate. But I say unto you, Ye shall not see me, till it come to pass, that ye should say, Blessed is he that cometh in the name of the Lord.” (Here, then, in this place, where Jesus had not yet been in Jerusalem, here, where Jesus first declared that he must go to Jerusalem, because it was only here that the prophet could perish, here is this saying originated, for it is at the same time supposed to be a prophecy of the reception which Jesus found on entering the holy city, for here they cried, Blessed be the King that cometh in the name of the Lord. (Peace in heaven and glory in the highest! was also shouted by varying the theme of that English hymn of praise: Glory to God in the highest and peace on earth). Matthew did not see the relation of that saying to the entry into Jerusalem; he believed it, because Jerusalem is at the same time thought of as a city about which the Lord had often endeavoured to give a better place, when he made it – separated from that confused twofold execution of the triple number – the last word which the Lord spoke to the people (C. 23, 37 – 39). We do not need to mention that it is inappropriately attached to a speech that is not directed against the people, not against the holy city, but against the Pharisees.

40

Luke formed the saying first and, what is more, in a very inappropriate place and linked it to an even more inappropriate occasion, if possible.

But, one might still ask, in order to save the presuppositions of the fourth Gospel *), does not the presupposition that Jesus was often in Jerusalem ring through this saying, a presupposition which therefore seems to be all the more correct and justified because it contradicts the other presuppositions of the Synoptics? No! Luke formed the saying first! On a saying which stands in such a suspicious environment and with which, in so far as it speaks of death in Jerusalem, there is certainly an inner connection, does one want to found a system? Doesn’t the primal gospel show a trace that could lead us to the presupposition of the fourth gospel?

*) Strauss L. I. I. 505. 506.

Weisse thinks himself justified by the saying to conclude a longer duration of Jesus’ one stay in Jerusalem, which, as he at the same time thinks, the Synoptics rightly assume alone **). But he builds on the wrong place which Matthew gave to the saying. He builds on sand. In Luke’s writing the saying has its solid ground, as far as there can be such a thing in the chimerical world of this writing.

**) I, 420.

Luke is certainly not the man who could come to the aid of the fourth evangelist, nor is he the man who could justify Weisse in ascribing to Jesus’ stay in Jerusalem, of which the synoptics alone know, a duration that was as long as possible. Luke remains faithful to the Synoptic presupposition also in the second part of his writing, when he (Acts 10, 37) lets Peter describe the life in the same way as he has described it in the Gospel *), namely that Jesus “began from Galilee”, travelled around and finally performed his deeds in Jerusalem and Judea. Luke also has Peter (v. 38) speak as if the healing of the sick and the casting out of devils were the main deeds of Jesus, i.e. Luke has formed the speech in which the Lord speaks of the necessity of His healing miracles.

*) and how the priests also describe the course of it, when they delivered Jesus to Pilate: Luk 23, 5: αρξαμενος απο της γαλιλαιας εως ωδε. Literally the same Acts. 10, 37.

41

But Luke lets the Lord speak as if he had much and often to do with Jerusalem? This does not give us the right to form theological hypotheses. He also lets Peter speak as if Judea and Jemsalem had been a main scene of Jesus’ miraculous activity, and yet in the Gospel itself he knows only as much and as little about Jesus’ stay in Jerusalem as his predecessor Mark. Luke forms the first point in the transition from the view of the Synoptics to that of the Fourth, namely, the point at which Judea and Jerusalem became important for the entire activity of Jesus, but he has not yet drawn the line from this point that the Fourth drew. He only formed a sentence in which he emphasised Jesus’ activity in Jerusalem and partly also spoke of this activity in the sense that Jesus took care of the children of Jerusalem by taking care of the chosen people in general.

Otherwise, or rather everywhere, he is dependent on the view of Mark and proves that he has his more exact knowledge of the life of Jesus through Mark. He even continues this view quite correctly in additions. If the angel who reports the resurrection of their Master to the women says that they should tell the disciples that Jesus would go ahead of them to Galilee, where they would see him as he had told them, Luke has the angel say that they should remember what he told them “while he was still in Galilee” (C. 24, 6.). Jesus, writes Luke (C. 16, 47.), taught daily in the temple, i.e. he wanted to use this new opportunity to work through his teaching.

42

There can be no doubt about the opinion of Mark. When he says: Jesus entered Jerusalem, went into the temple and after he had looked at everything, he went out to Bethany, because it was already late, this means: Jesus satisfied the curiosity of a man from the province and today he could do nothing but look at the temple, namely, he could not teach because it was already late.

Matthew did not copy this passage from Mark, since he – very hastily and somewhat too hotly – had the merchants driven out of the temple immediately after the Lord’s entry; instead, he formed another passage, which proves his agreement with Mark’ basic premise. When Jesus enters Jerusalem, the whole city is in an uproar and people ask, “Who is this? But the crowd answered: this is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee (C. 21, 10. 11.). This time we do not wish to reproach Matthew particularly for not having made it clear to us where the multitudes come from who are distinguished from the citizens of the holy city; he has at least shown us that, according to his view, Jesus also comes for the first time from the province to the capital.

Weisse reminds us that the rejoicing of the people at the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem proves that Jesus had not been in this city before or – to put it more correctly – that according to the Synoptics the moment has come when the Son of David enters the holy city. The Fourth, therefore, could not understand this rejoicing in its true sense; he even had to use the miracle of Lazarus to win over the crowds, since according to his previous account Jesus only had to expect trouble and distress in Jerusalem.

*) I, 297.

43

Whether at the time of Jesus, as Weisse remarks, who is only concerned with the positive statements of the Synoptics, people in Galilee thought more freely about the feast commandments, is not our concern here, but it is more than likely and at least puts the mechanical pragmatism of the fourth Gospel in its proper light. Whether the feast attendance was not necessary for Jesus is a personal question, and therefore cannot be answered by us, since we have not yet received a single message about Jesus. But Weisse’s remark is correct that according to the synoptic accounts Jesus travels to Jerusalem not to visit the feast but to suffer. However, we do not conclude from this, as Weisse does, that Jesus ‘ travelled to Jerusalem only at the time of this Christian sacrificial pascha, but . . . . . .

but that Mark the Evangelist was not at all concerned about all these questions of the theologians and Jews when he wrote his Gospel. He did not even think about the annually recurring feasts; their cycle had been forgotten in the ideal world in which he lived and which he described. The only thing he knew about it was that Jesus had to suffer at the Passover: for the time until then he knew nothing of chronology, as little as of a festival cycle.

It will now be seen where we want to go and where this matter will finally and for all time come to an end.

How can we take it into our heads to decide what a man had to do, or whether he attended the festivals of his people more than once, when all the reports that are supposed to teach us about him have dissolved? How can we go so far in our hunger for historical fragments as to want to decide from a writing whose author really lives in an ideal world and who, until he comes to the Passover, has breathed from the river of Lethe and forgotten all earthly measure of time, whether Jesus also visited the festivals more than once? Only one thing is certain, that the Passover – even the Passover! – has ideal significance for Mark, and that the time until this feast seems to him an eternity in which he knows no earthly calendar.

44

The fourth evangelist, who used no other sources for his news of the life of Jesus than the Gospels which we still possess, has distributed the life of his Lord in the Jewish festival cycles – but the admiration which was paid for it to the strength of his memory, the accuracy of his account, or higher influences, is now at last reduced to its proper measure, or rather to the opposite feeling.

One might now be inclined to agree with the Synoptics. For is it not more beautiful and more dignified how they present the matter, that Jesus first appears at the outermost edge of the holy land, establishes his work and only now enters the holy city in order to attack the corrupt hierarchy in the centre of its power and to fulfil his destiny?

It is more beautiful and more worthy, but not historical, for as yet we have found no trace of what is called history.

Weisse assumes that the public activity of Jesus must be attributed “a duration of a not too small number of years” *). We have no say in this, for reasons which we have already given. But we have a question to ask about the assumption that Mark got his material from Peter and yet, if we want to use this wretched prose of observation, which is quite inappropriate here, attributes such a very short period of time to the activity of Jesus. He has,” answers Weisse *), “in his endeavour to explain the isolated stories of Peter – that is to say, Peter has never – never – never! – never said a word about the whole? – into the solid whole of a history of the Lord’s life, by the manner of his transitions from one matter to another – Olshausen, how much wrong you have been done! – has created a semblance of continuity of events and thus also of changes in the setting of events, which a more skilful narrator, at least one who was at the same time a critical researcher, would undoubtedly have avoided. “

*) I, 292

*) I, 313 – 314.

45

No! Only one who knew an eyewitness like Peter would have avoided such a thing!

The Urevangelist, whom the Church called Mark, was not such a one.

The Urevangelist does not look at the transitions in any other way than the way he presents them. But carefully! He means to give definite, definite transitions, but in his ideal world he has at the same time lost the miserable prose of the earthly measure of time; he believes he is describing the history of an eternity, or at least he forgets the transitions, which are meant to be completely serious, in the view of the content, which to him is an infinite one. This is the contradiction of evangelical chronology. But the fact that it was possible for the evangelist to squeeze the creation of his ideal conception into such a short period of time for our calculation, proves first of all that the Christian principle is not capable of creating a true, extensive work of art and that the evangelist knew nothing less than the real life of Jesus.

But we want to hold him in such high esteem in any case that he is no longer asked the question of the festive journeys. This question is known only to the fourth and the theologian.

Admittedly, the theologian makes it very easy for himself in this respect too. He says: “the difference (between John and the poor Synoptics) in regard to chronology is easily (!) eliminated by the remark (!) that in the first three Gospels there are no chronological provisions at all” *).

*) Neander, 8. I. Chr. p. 380.

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One can see that theology is an easy science; but its weight has become even lighter through criticism.

—————

 

Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 3

—o0o—

Critique of the Gospel History 

of the 

Synoptics and John

by

Bruno Bauer.

Third and final volume.

Brauuschweig: Friedrich Otto.

1842

1

Eleventh section.

The express revelation of Jesus as the Messiah.

—————

§ 67.

The Confession of Peter.

At last, after Jesus had always done such works as were possible only for the Messiah, and which should have long since made him known as such, it is expressly stated who he is, and his Messianic dignity is definitely and clearly acknowledged and revealed in three forms. First Peter confesses his faith, then Jesus himself expresses his seal on this confession by speaking of the necessity that he must suffer as Messiah, and finally the temple also gives its voice in order to give the Messiah general recognition as such.

But if we say that at last this express acknowledgment comes to pass, we must first consider a contradiction in which Matthew’s account enters into relation to this view and expression.

 

1. The report of Matthew.

Matthew, too, wants us to look at the matter as if Jesus had only now been recognized as the Messiah by his own people, and by them first of all, but partly in this account itself, partly in the whole of the preceding scripture, he has elements which frustrate his intention.

2

When Jesus asks the disciples about the opinion of the people, he also intends to ask them about their own views of him. After the report on the public opinion did not confirm his identity, he asks them: ‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say I am?’ (Matthew 16:15). However, it would have been inappropriate if Jesus had already given the disciples the desired answer by asking them about the people’s opinion of him, the Son of Man. He could only ask if it was already established between him and the disciples that he was the Son of Man, that is, the Messiah. But the report by Matthew himself implies that this was not yet the case, as Jesus later asks the disciples for their opinion in a way that shows that they had not expressed or oriented themselves about this matter before – and when Peter’s happy answer is described later as one that could only have been given to him by the Heavenly Father.

It was thought that one could secure the possibility of asking the question by the remark that ‘the designation as Son of Man was at least not the usual one for the Messiah’ *). But first of all, he who makes this assumption would have to prove that his exact knowledge of the Christological conceptions of the Jews at the time of Jesus was the correct one, and then he should not forget that when Jesus not only speaks of the Son of Man in a parable, but calls himself such, this is also connected with the intention of calling himself or him the Messiah. But even if a parable speaks of the Son of Man (e.g. Matth. 13, 41), it is clear that everyone should think of the Messiah and under certain circumstances (Matth. 25, 31) of Jesus as the Messiah. In the end, the critic only has to think of Matthew, his time, his surroundings, his views and presuppositions, and if he takes this correct standpoint, he will not doubt it. If he takes this correct standpoint, he will not doubt that Matthew, when he calls Jesus the Son of Man, intends to call Him the Messiah. In short, Jesus speaks here as if the presupposition that he is the Messiah is fixed among the disciples and between them and him. In short, Matthew has significantly and very disturbingly reworked a foreign account, which this time first wants to emphasise the recognition of Jesus as the Messiah among the disciples, by leaving this presupposition in place, even elaborating it further (in Peter’s beatitude), and yet forcing into the account the other, the later presupposition, for which everything is already ready in the beginning, the presupposition that the disciples had long known their Master as the Messiah. He had to proceed in this way if he wanted to communicate the report of Mark and could not rewrite it any better; for, to mention only one thing, he had already put the confession into the mouths of the disciples: you are in truth the Son of God! yes, not only to the disciples, but to the people in general (C. 14, 33), which cannot surprise us, since already in the first days after his appearance even the blind had recognized Jesus as the Son of David (C. 9, 27). It is impossible that the disciples, when asked about the voice of the people (C. 16, 14), spoke as if it had not yet occurred to anyone that Jesus was the Messiah; it is also impossible that Jesus, after Peter’s confession, could forbid the disciples to reveal His Messianic dignity to the people (16, 20), since He had already openly declared Himself to be the Messiah in His first public speech, in the Sermon on the Mount.

*) Strauss L. I. I, 531. I. I, 531. Weisse 1, 321.

3

Only in the account of Mark (C. 8, 27 – 30), which is preceded by nothing like Matthew’s account, could Jesus ask: “What do the people say about me?” he could ask the disciples, when he was not satisfied with the news about the opinion of the people: But what do you say of me?” and when Peter confessed him to be the Messiah, he could forbid them to speak of the matter to others.

4

Matthew not only thoroughly paralyzed the presentation of Mark, but he also confused it in a single stroke from another perspective.Some, the disciples report, take you for the Baptist, others for Elljah, others think you are Jeremiah or one of the prophets. So three classes! But there must be four, since those who take Jesus for Jeremiah are different from those who take him for one of the prophets in general *). – Matthew thus very clumsily inserted his enrichment of Jewish Christology into the third compartment, in which Mark only placed those who considered Jesus to be one of the prophets.

*) Wilke, p. 367.

The diligence of Matthew has brought even more to dust, he has enriched the report of Mark by very great, very important new discoveries, but unfortunately we cannot approve them.

 

2. The new name of Simon.

Matth. 16, 17. 18.

When Peter confessed, ‘You are the Christ, the Son of the living God’ – according to Mark he only says, ‘You are the Christ,’ that is, the Anointed One, the Messiah; according to Luke, ‘You are the Christ of God’ – Jesus responds with a Pauline expression: ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for flesh and blood (Gal. 1:17) has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell you that you are Peter,’ that is, a true rock, and from now on you shall be called Peter. This episode is inappropriate, as it should be followed immediately, as in Mark, by the prohibition not to reveal him to anyone as the Messiah. And if this prohibition, as in Matthew’s account, comes after the discussions about Simon’s new name and even after the further discussions about the foundation of the new church, it comes too late! It is appropriate, however, that the new Peter is immediately rebuked as Satan in verse 23.

5

Although Matthew has inserted the naming in the wrong place, he has at least motivated it by Peter’s confession. The fourth gospel writer, who wrote it down afterwards, has made it seem like it was done in the air when he describes the matter in such a way that Jesus immediately says to Simon when he sees him for the first time: ‘You shall be called Cephas’. Matthew believed he could use this method to justify Mark’s note that Simon received the nickname Peter from Jesus, while the fourth writer did not care about the motive and revealed that Jesus’ insight was so great that he recognized the rock in Peter at first sight.

Later (C. 6, 68-70), the Fourth uses Matthew’s account more diligently and, after asking Peter in a very stilted way whether they also wanted to leave him like others, he has him affirm: “We believe and have recognised that you are the Christ, the Son of the living God *). Finally, as in Matthew’s account Peter is accused of being Satan, the Fourth, who noticed the contradiction, at least made sure that after Peter’s confession (v. 70) Jesus called one of his disciples a devil.

*) Joh. 6, 69: συ ει ο Χριστός ο υιός του θεού του ζώντος.
Matth. 16, 17 ου ει ο Χριστός, ο υιός του θ. τ. ζώντος.

The other trait in Matthew’s account, that Jesus declares that on Peter he will found his church, has also not been passed over in the fourth Gospel: Jesus here commands Peter to tend his lambs; to indicate the seriousness of the commission, he tells him three times: “Feed my lambs” and to prove his worthiness, to prove his entitlement to this privilege, he has to answer in the affirmative the Lord’s question whether he loves him more than the others (C. 21, 15-17), – a very elaborate copy of the account we read in the Gospel of Matthew.

6

 

3. The foundation stone of the church.

Matth. 16, 18. 19.

If Calvin calls the man at Rome the “Antichrist” because of the assertion that Peter is proclaimed as the foundation of the Church by Jesus *), the critic must also put up with being called the Antichrist. For it concerns the correct interpretation of those words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew and – let us add – that commission given to Peter in the fourth gospel, which, as we have seen, is one and the same with that claim of Jesus in the former gospel, so it is not only a claim, not only a fiction, which the man in Rome has committed, but the correct explanation of the relevant passage in the gospel. The critic, as far as he is also an exegete, will absolutely agree with this man and will deeply sympathize with the torments that the literal-minded Protestant has brought upon himself.

The Protestants, not to mention the later zealots, that is, to stick with Calvin – one man! – ask: Can’t you see that the Antichrist is attributing to the person of Peter what is actually said about the faith of Peter? **) The Antichrist, however, cannot do otherwise; as long as he still has the use of his eyes and cannot understand to make them squint by force, he will also have to admit that if Peter is presented as this person, naturally as the person of such solid faith, and with the words: you are Peter! this person, naturally this person with this faith, is the rock on which the church is to be founded.

*) to Matth. 16, 18: Romanus Antichristus fingit Petrum vocari Ecclesiae fundamentum.

**) Quis non videt, quod (Antichr.) transfert ad hominis personam, de Petri fide in Christum dictum esse ?

7

But, say the Protestants further, when Jesus addresses Peter by name, it is only because Peter had confessed Jesus in the name of all; but for this very reason the Lord’s saying also refers to all the other disciples *). At last the time will come when language will no longer be robbed of its character of being language by theology. Can it be more strongly and powerfully described as something given by God only to Peter, that is, as a personal prerogative of Peter, that he recognised in Jesus the Anointed One, than if it is said that only the Father in heaven could have revealed this to him? Does the one to whom something has just been revealed from above express the conviction of others on their behalf? Would the Father in heaven have to intervene if Peter had to do nothing more than speak the conviction of others? – In the writing of Mark it can at most be the case that Peter expresses the conviction of the others; in the writing of Matthew it has become different, and the Fourth has correctly processed their view when he lets it depend on it that Peter loves the Lord more than the others before he lets him be entrusted with the oversight of his host.

*) Calvin: At Christus Petrum unum nominatim alloquitur: nempe sicuti unus omnium nomine Christum confessus fuerat dei filium, ila vicissim ad unum dirigitur sermo, qui tamen peraeque ad alios pertinet.

But, finally, it is said, if Peter, when he did not want to know about the suffering of Jesus, is called Satan, if this can only mean that he is like Satan, indeed, if he is even called Satan in this context, then it is clear, that only faith and not Peter as this person is called the pillar and foundation of the Church. Do you think, then, that it occurs to the Antichrist to suppose that Peter is to be called here with skin and hair and as this bone scaffolding covered with skin and flesh as the foundation on which the Church is founded? He with this faith is the foundation of the church, as he later, because of his earthly mindset without anxious reserve, is even called Satan himself.

8

But how can a man who so transgresses that he must be called Satan be appointed the foundation of the church? The critic will not rack his brains over this in the way you do, and weaken both sides of the contradiction: no! he says: Matthew has not only inserted a new element into the account of Mark, – but has also inserted it very clumsily, since he rather mechanically copied a trait from Mark, which, if he had only rcflectirt a little hastily, he would necessarily have had to suppress, or, as the Fourth did, completely change. Peter, the foundation of the Church, was not allowed to behave satanically, or if a satan should indeed appear, then another, such as Judas, would have had to take on this role.

The Roman Antichrist has correctly explained the words which form the diploma of Peter; the critical Antichrist agrees with him in this explanation, but withdraws the diploma from him when he refers to it, as to a divine handwriting, in order to prove his hierarchy as a divine work. This diploma did not first establish his hierarchy or legitimise it in advance, before it was established, but it was dictated by the already existing hierarchical view, by a view to which Peter already appeared as the prince of the church, and Matthew is the first to have written it. That word of Christ is the proof of the already existing hierarchy, it is the expression of the justification which the hierarchy presupposed for itself. The Bible-believing Protestant was not able to snatch this diploma from the man at Rome; only the critical Antichrist, after he has vidimirt it, can recognise it as correct and show that the seal and the signatures do not come from God’s hand, but from the hand of history, from a hand which, however, has issued many new and quite different diplomas. Let us therefore leave the man of Rome his handwriting; eregetically, as the Protestants thought, we shall not annul it; but if it is the hierarchy itself which has justified itself in this diploma, mankind has meanwhile written new diplomas which have long since refuted that old one, but only by their richer and more worthy contents.

9

The keys of the kingdom of heaven and the power to bind and loose were first given to Peter by Matthew *) and this power was somewhat inconsistently given to the disciples on another occasion (C. 18, 18). Otherwise, i.e. more specifically, in the primitive Gospel Jesus refers to the apostles only as messengers, emissaries, teachers, who are to proclaim the kingdom of heaven to the world, but not as church leaders, not as rulers who are to hierarchically determine the relationship of the individuals to heaven, i.e. only at the time of Matthew had the hierarchy already become such an essential and powerful element of the church that an evangelist writing at that time could not fail to confirm the prerequisites of it through the mouth of Jesus. Matthew is also the first evangelist who dared to put the word “Church” in the mouth of Jesus (16:18, 18:17).

*) He borrowed the formula for the blessing from the O. T.: Isa. 22, 22 και δώσω αυτή την κλείδα οίκου Δαυίδ. και ανοίξει και ουκ έσται ο αποκλείων, και-κλείσει και ουκ έσται και ανοίγων.

Mark knows nothing of all these things and in his work the question of Jesus about the opinion of the people, about the opinion of the disciples and the answer of Peter alone has its correct position and meaning, since no one had yet recognised Jesus as the Messiah and even not long before, as Mark had not failed to notice, the heart of the disciples was still closed (C. 6, 51. 52).

But if the report of Mark is aesthetically correct, this does not necessarily mean that it is historically correct.

10

 

4. The original report. 

Mark 8, 27 – 30.

How? In a man who performed such fearful wonders, who did nothing but miracles and attracted so much attention that he was immediately surrounded by crowds wherever he went, in a man whose miraculous power was trusted so much that as soon as he came into a city, the sick were brought to him in the market, should they not have recognised the Messiah long ago? Is there a more distasteful impossibility? Jesus has to perform these innumerable, these sky-scraping miracles because he is regarded as the Messiah in the evangelical view, he had to perform them in order to prove himself as the Messiah: and no one recognises the Messiah in him? Is not every Christian reader, when he sees these miracles, convinced that this man is the Messiah, and does he not know that the purpose of these miracles is to prove this man to him as the Messiah? And no one among the people should have made the childish conclusion that the mighty miracle-worker must be the Messiah? This conclusion of the children’s catechism would have been too difficult for a whole people, even for the disciples? What kind of children must Jesus have surrounded himself with, what kind of vain, miserable children must he have appeared among! No! these disciples, this people, were not even children in the sense in which one could speak here of children alone, they were warm infants in whom the first trace of humanity is not yet to be found, they were warm still less; for an infant can already smile to its nurses and knows how to distinguish them from others; they were lifeless dolls, they were warm nothing, they were warm less than nothing.

This terrible pragmatism remains both terrifying and horrifying, even after it has been resolved for us, as there are no more reports of miracles for us. It remains that it is itself the greatest evangelical miracle that the people had not already recognized the Messiah in this miracle-worker, and when Mark says that the disciples were so excessively terrified by Jesus’ walking on the sea because they had not yet recognized from the wonderful multiplication of the loaves who Jesus really was, their hearts were still closed and thick-skinned, that too is an enormous miracle, but a miracle that only the evangelist has created. Mark has surrounded the hearts of the disciples with this thick skin.

11

If this pragmatism now coincides with the miracle reports, one thing could still remain that the disciples only belatedly recognised the Lord as the Messiah, and that on one occasion when their Master questioned them about popular opinion. In vain! That the people regarded Jesus as the resurrected Baptist or as Elijah or as one of the prophets who came into the world for the second time, happened and happens in the Gospel only under the condition that Jesus performs miracles, as it must have happened to the Baptist when he really returned from the grave, or to an Elijah or one of the old prophets (Mark 6, 14 ). This popular opinion – which has already proven to us to be a mere fabrication of Mark – is therefore also impossible and with it the confession of Peter, which can only stand in contrast to it, falls to the ground.

Nothing can maintain itself in the report. To make matters worse, we can ask whether Jesus, who always went about with the disciples, thus had to experience the same things as the disciples and, in view of the stupidity and narrow-mindedness of the disciples presupposed in the Gospels, did not know better than the disciples how to test the spirits, how to fathom the mood of the people and how to recognise public opinion?

The disciples had indeed once undertaken a short missionary journey, and it would be possible that they had learned many things on that journey that had remained hidden from their Master. As if they could have learned more on such a short journey than the Lord could have learned during his whole activity, which always brought him into contact with the people, as if much time had not passed since their return (C. 6, 30), as if this missionary journey had not only lasted a very short time, but had also only begun and ended in the mind of the evangelist.

12

And why must Jesus have been on a journey through the villages of Caesarea Philippi when he asked the disciples about the opinion of the people and learned about the threefold view, which was already detailed in another way by the evangelist above, when it was said that Herod saw in Jesus the resurrected Baptist, but others assumed in him Elijah, others one of the prophets? So Herod is no longer alone in his view? He found proselytes? Oh no! Above, Herod had to see in Jesus the resurrected Baptist, so that, among others, Mark would have the opportunity to report the end of John, some had to assume Elijah in Jesus, because Mark is about to report deeds of Jesus that are Elijah-like, and others had to see one of the prophets in Jesus for the sake of dear symmetry. But why must Jesus, if he is to hear of these popular opinions, travel to the region of Caesarea Philippi? So that he might be near the region where Mark thinks the Herods and Herod’s judgment of Jesus at that time were pronounced, so that he might be near a city whose epithet reminds one of the Herods.

If the miracle reports no longer exist for us, i.e. if we have not heard a word yet that is, if we have not yet heard a word that could inform us in the least about Jesus and his historical existence, if even the last report of Mark has unravelled, the theologian could still stir in us in the end and, in the anguish of despair, draw the still genuinely theological conclusion that at least it is historical that Jesus was only recognised as Messiah by his disciples in the last days of his life. This is again nothing, because it is still a theological quackery! How can we draw a conclusion about the historical circumstances when all the data that we can and should use have disappeared from our hands? A Messiah who does not perform miracles and who does not perform miracles incessantly is impossible, is an impossibility. Jesus could not consider himself to be the Messiah and could not demand that he be recognised as such if he did not perform miracles, and it could not occur to the twelve, who have long since ceased to exist for us, to consider him to be the Messiah if they did not see him perform miracles. Jesus could only be considered the Messiah when he performed miracles, but he only performed miracles when he rose in the faith of the congregation as the Messiah, and that was one and the same fact, that he rose as the Messiah and that he performed miracles. This resurrection of his, this revelation of him as the Messiah, was the miracle of all miracles, and this miracle of all miracles, of which all other miracles were natural consequences, was the resurrection and the spiritual birth of the Messiah, because it was a fact of religious consciousness.

The fact that Mark only reveals the Messiahship of Jesus to the disciples on the journey to Caesarea Philippi, namely now, when Jesus’ career is about to come to an end, has already been explained by the fact that Mark still has a kind of feeling that Jesus has not been recognised and acknowledged as the Messiah by the people, not even by his immediate surroundings in the flat way that the later imagined. His conception and presentation of the matter is the later development carried over into the past, through which it finally came to a Christian community for which Jesus had become the Messiah. In addition, he was guided by an artistic instinct which moved him to let the interest, the development of faith, develop gradually, so that only after a long period of Jesus’ activity, indeed almost only at the end of it, does faith arise in the circle of the disciples, and only afterwards, after the herald of the larger crowd of believers has greeted the Lord in the blind man of Jericho, does the faith of the people mature and express itself at the solemn entry into Jerusalem. Admittedly, this artistic concept had to be completely spoiled when Jesus performed miracles and had to perform miracles as the Messiah, which should have made him recognisable to every child as the Messiah. We cannot, therefore, accuse Matthew very severely if he has somewhat more crudely thwarted this artistic concept, which he still mechanically preserved in its outward structure in his work, by having Jesus openly call Himself the Messiah beforehand and having not a few acknowledge Him as such. And the Fourth had no special work of art to destroy when he presented the matter in such a way that everyone who wanted to could know from the beginning that Jesus was the Messiah.

14

Of the numerous consequences that follow from this result, we must now emphasise some that relate to the designation of the Messiah as the Son of Man.

 

5. The Messiah as the Son of Man.

In the prophecy, as in the fulfilment, the Messiah was only an ideal product of religious consciousness; he did not exist as a sensually given individual. Everything that is valid for religious consciousness is always only its own deed and creation. Even the Dalai-Lama is as such the work and creature of his servants.

The designation of the Messiah as the Son of Man was only created when the Messiah came into existence for the Christian consciousness, and was only created late, as it first appears in the Gospel of Mark..

The external material of the name is borrowed from the well-known passage in the Book of Daniel, where it is described how the Messiah approaches the throne of the Ancient of Days on the clouds of heaven like the Son of Man, i.e. in human form, and it is now generally acknowledged that from this material, through Christian reworking, the form arose in which, as its most significant name says, human nature has produced a fruit in which it is itself reborn and transfigured as the true man.

15

“In the choice of expression,” says Weisse, presupposing that Jesus chose and formed it for himself, “a noble modesty manifests itself alongside a sublime sense of self, which does not aggressively impose the high sense it wants to express like a hawker. *)  We have freed Jesus from the glory of this modesty, which would still inwardly tickle itself over the sublime meaning of the expression and over the difficulty which the insidious title should have for the reflection of the hearers. As the expression came into being, it was clear to everyone who heard it, and, apart from being modest about it, it is rather the expression of the highest reverence, which first saw in Jesus the true man, the true fruit of the species. There is, however, one side to it, where it denotes a condescension, only we must understand the nature of it correctly. He describes the humanisation of religion, the turning of religion into humanity and the drawing down of Jewish consciousness, for which the highest was only the One beyond, in the One who is man here on earth among men. Therein lies the attractive power of the expression. But since it is again religious, it necessarily alienates the species from its fruit, from the fruit into which it has thrown all its essential power, and it makes even the human appearance, in which the religious consciousness of humanity beholds humanity, an otherworldly transcendent object.

*) I, 324. 325.

All the conclusions that one wants to draw from the use that Jesus made of this expression are unfounded, since Jesus did not use it. All those answers to the question as to what the Messianic plan of Jesus was like, whether it was at the same time a political or a purely ideal one, these answers are sufficiently appreciated by the fact that we forget them and delete the question. Only someone else should try to raise the question again and even answer it before he has the little phrases that he necessarily needs, taken from the arsenal of criticism.. The Gospels, as a creation of the congregation, teach us only how the kingdom of heaven, i.e. the idea of the kingdom of heaven, was understood in the congregation at the time when it came into being. And if it then seems, as, for example, Weisse also says, while he, of course, wants to enlighten us according to his presupposition about the consciousness of Jesus, that it is ideally conceived *), then this conception, too, is still very much in need of correction. To be sure, the kingdom of heaven of the church is not the Messiah’s kingdom of the prophets, and it is partly correct to say that the Old Testament concept of the kingdom of God was “transformed and spiritualized” in the New Testament; but if the political fury of the prophetic Messiah and the wonderful material ornamentation of the Old Testament kingdom of God were kept away from the church, then all this was kept away only in the sense that in the future all these beautiful things would return.

In the future, the struggle of the Kingdom of Heaven with the world is at the same time a political one – (with Rome, the whore of Babylon) – and in the completed alignment of the Kingdom of Heaven, the wonderful matter and the material, very sensual miracle are not missing. But we do not even need to look so far into the future, for Jesus is already performing miracles that are so strong and striking as only a prophet full of his Messiah could expect. Religious consciousness cannot do without the materialism of miracles, because even when it makes the spirit its watchword, it still does not know the real spirit, the spiritual mediation.

*) l, 327.

16

The correct understanding of this relationship saves us from many troubles, both in general and in detail, and spares us the effort of making Jesus into an overly clever man who ultimately gains nothing from his cleverness and is always pursued by the specter he wants to escape. For example, Mark (8:30) reports that Jesus immediately forbade the disciples to tell anyone about Peter’s confession. Theologians and apologetic critics *) say that Jesus did not want to get involved with Jewish expectations and imaginings about the Messiah. But what about the specter that Jesus was said to have always had in his back? Was this really evidence of that alleged “unwillingness to engage”? Was this really a man, a real man, who, in order to deal with a specter that he believed was pursuing him, simply tried to flee from it and didn’t even want to know its name? Isn’t it rather the duty of a man to confront such phantasms and to debunk them in front of others? And was it really the right way to instruct the disciples, who for the first time recognized and confessed him as the Messiah, about the manner in which he was, if all he had to say on this occasion was that they should not speak to anyone about it?

*) E. g. Weisse, I, 530.

17

Jesus forbids the disciples to speak of the matter to others, because the pragmatism of the primal gospel would have it so, because the faith of the people should only arise later in the way we have seen it. Luke, from whose account we still have a glimpse,

 

6. The account of Luke.

C. 9, 18 – 23.

Lukas has connected this prohibition with the following words of Jesus that the “Son of Man” **) must suffer, when he presents the matter in such a way that Jesus thinks that his impending suffering is the reason why they should not reveal his messianic dignity to anyone – as if such a thing could be hidden under a bushel! *). However, Luke, who in a moment later was capable of rashness, had the crowd of seventy cast out the demons in the name of the Lord (C. 10, 17), was the least able to make clear to himself the vague hint of connection that he thought he heard here. 

We only note that according to the pragmatism of the Ur-Gospel, the recognition of Jesus as the Messiah was necessary precisely to bring about his hour of suffering, that Luke, by inserting his reflection into the text, excluded the not unimportant remark of Mark that Jesus now began to speak openly and without reservation about the necessity of his suffering, and that it is in Mark’s Gospel that this word about suffering has its original and powerful place as a contrast to the rising of the light in which the Lord now appears to the disciples, and to Peter’s “fleshly” wish that his master might be spared from suffering. This scene, in which Peter seizes the Lord and urges him not to think of such things – Matthew has formed the words: “God forbid, Lord, this will not happen to you”. – that Jesus turns around, threatens and resists Peter and says: “Get thee away from me, Satan – thou art an offence unto me!” Matthew has him add **) – “Thou thinkest not what is God’s, but what is man’s:” – Luke has omitted this scene and robbed the following speech of Jesus, which he nevertheless copies from Mark, the speech about the necessity that his followers must also suffer, of its next motive.

**) Now, did Mark and Luke, who both put the same word here, also have the conception that it did not designate the Messiah as closely or as definitely as the other?

*) Luk. 8, 21. 22 παρήγγειλε μηδενί ειπείν τούτο είπων- ότι δει ….

**) Matth. 16, 23. Cf. v. 27 and 13, 41.

18

Luke himself must have revealed that he omitted an intermediate element when he forms the transition to this speech with the remark: “But he said to all” (9:23), a remark that only has its place when the negotiation with an individual precedes it.

19

We have to admit that Luke partially corrected a small mistake of Mark when he vaguely says that Jesus spoke to everyone. The original Gospel writer, in his account, introduced a progression: after Jesus asked his disciples who they thought he was, Peter speaks up, then he appears again when Jesus talks about his suffering, and then when Peter forcibly grabs him and tries to persuade him, Jesus turns around and looks at all the disciples while calling Peter Satan. Finally, Jesus summons the crowd to hear the teachings on the duties of true followers of the suffering Messiah. And yet, we must imagine Jesus completely alone with his disciples when he asked them about the opinion of the people, alone with the disciples to whom he has just proclaimed the necessity of his suffering and whom he has forbidden to speak publicly about his messianic dignity when he says that his followers must take up their cross. What did the crowd understand about the cross or even about the necessity of suffering if they had not heard anything about the suffering of the Messiah before? Where does the crowd come from when Jesus has been thinking alone with his disciples so far? Mark made a mistake by suddenly conjuring up the crowd, thinking and rightly thinking – after all, he only sees the congregation in the crowd – that the following sayings are too general not to be heard by everyone.

He made a mistake, but Luke made an even bigger mistake when he wrote: Jesus spoke to all, and when he still omitted the negotiations with Peter. Matthew slightly toned down the escalation that Mark had brought into his account when, after Jesus’ dialogue with Peter, he noted (16:24) that the Lord spoke the following sayings to the disciples.

20

To those who, like Schleiermacher, *), are concerned with a rather complete pragmatism and who everywhere are looking for a rather crude, real and tangible story, Luke can seem to prepare a real joy of the heart by the way in which he connects the accounts here. It is not enough that he connects the question of the people’s voice with the sending out and return of the disciples so closely that it seems Jesus wanted to ask his missionaries about the experiences they had gathered on their journey – for no sooner have they returned than Jesus feeds the multitudes, and when he has withdrawn from them into solitude for prayer, he asks the disciples what they think of him – but the connection is even closer, because if we were talking about the multitudes, Jesus now asks the disciples not what “the people” but the “multitudes” think of him (C. 9, 10 -18). This close connection alone – as if Jesus could not have recognized and judged the view of the crowds he was dealing with by means of his keen insight – destroys this wonderful pragmatism and destroys it to such an extent that we hardly need to remind ourselves of it, that we hardly need to remember how the way in which Luke introduces the account of the feeding has long since resolved itself for us, and the reason why he does not have the other accounts here, which he read in the writing of Mark at this point, has cleared itself up for us.

*) A. a. O. p. 135.

We only need to note that he suppressed the note of the journey to Caesarea Philippi here because he still wants to report many journeys and deeds of Jesus, even the sending of the Seventy, i.e. that journey, which in the Gospel gives the impression that it is the last before the departure to Jerusalem and because of the conversation about the sufferings the preparation for the last journey, he was not allowed to mention because he still wants to write many chapters before the catastrophe comes.

21

But he helped himself very badly. He broke the frame and threw it away, and he put the picture in his writing. He copies Jesus’ speech to Mark about the necessity of his suffering, a speech that is supposed to prepare us for the approach of the catastrophe, and – he writes so many more chapters. He has helped himself very badly; he strained out gnats but swallowed camels.. Only in the writing of Mark do these prophecies of Jesus about his death have their proper place and, in relation to the passages in the book, their true harmony. Matthew, on the whole, has given these sayings their proper place, but has cancelled their harmony with the more definite arrangement of the subsections. The Fourth can hardly be mentioned in comparison with the Synoptics, since the idea of the suffering of the Messiah is already expressed at the moment when Jesus only shows himself from afar and has not even stepped onto the stage, thus introducing this Gospel of the heart.

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389

§ 66.

The demand for signs.

Matth. 16, 1-4.

As a sign that he was a man of God, Elijah commanded the heavens and called down rain and fire (1 Kings 18:45. L Kings 1:10): let the Messiah do likewise, the Pharisees demand, if he really wants to prove himself as Messiah *). Jesus rejects their demand: from the colour of the sky they know how to determine the weather in the evening and in the morning, but they do not understand the signs of the times? But there shall no sign be given unto this generation, save that of Jonah.

*) Compare (also after the feeding of the people as in Mark and Matthew) John 6, 30 : τί ούν ποιείς συ σημείον, ίνα ίδωμεν και πιστευσωμεν σοι. Furthermore John 4, 48.

390

Matthew has brought together two sayings that have different points without defining their mutual relationship. Each of them would have been strong enough to reject the demand for signs: in the first, it is the signs of the times that point to the kingdom of heaven; in the second, it is Jesus as this person himself who guarantees the arrival of the kingdom of heaven. Matthew now comes to the report of Mark about the demand for signs, which he had already given above, transcribes it with the original punch line and enriches it, i.e. confuses it, by inserting Luke’s saying (C. 12, 54-56.) about the signs of the times *).

*) with a slight change, namely, that throughout it speaks of heaven.

Finally, this is the place to make a remark which has already found its proof in the above investigations. Matthew often reports the same fact twice; indeed, it probably happens to him that he relates the same event three times. In former times this phenomenon was explained, depending on the different presuppositions from which one proceeded, either in such a way that one said that the same thing could really have happened more than once, or one maintained that variations on the same theme had developed in the tradition of the congregation and that Matthew had always communicated them with the setting in which they were handed down to him by tradition. On the other hand, we do not even need to remember that the Gospels give us neither the empirical reality of Jesus’ life nor the later tradition that was formed in the view of the community: But no one will be able to deny that reality is rich and manifold, and does not repeat itself so tautologically as Matthew would have us believe, and that the first law of historical memory, when it presents itself in a coherent work, as well as of tradition, if it had really existed in this case and had rounded itself off into a certain type, is simplicity, i.e. at the same time true variety. i.e. at the same time true diversity. Let us, however, leave the abstract argument that the same thing has “happened” several times, or that it has been able to “take shape” in tradition, in a fine place, i.e., in the air, and let us remember that the tradition has really existed and rounded itself off into a certain type. If, however, we leave the abstract argumentation that the same thing has “happened” several times or “been able to take shape” in tradition in its place, i.e. in wishful thinking, and if, on the contrary, we remember the real and thousandfold proven fact, then it is beyond all doubt – we need only read over the writing of Mark – that the writer who freely creates a historical whole from the ideal conception does not repeat himself, observes the law of simplicity and diversity, and is therefore so fortunate as to bring about a coherent composition. Matthew’s outward and servile dependence on the letter of the scriptures he used and wrote out explained to us the tautologies of his historical works.

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Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 2

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Critique of the Gospel History of the Synoptics
by Bruno Bauer

Volume 2

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383

§ 65.

The Canaanite Woman.

Matth. 15, 21-28.

If one has not yet discovered the scriptural origin of the Gospels, one must be very surprised that the disciples ask their Master to satisfy the Canaanite woman, while the latter replies very sternly that he was sent only to the lost sheep of Israel. In order to avoid all unfortunate consequences, one could say that the request of the disciples came only from a vague compassion, not from a freer insight, and furthermore they wanted to be rid of the annoying cry of the woman, who incessantly cried out behind the Lord: Have mercy on me, Lord, son of David, my daughter is badly afflicted by demons. If the disciples are now duly suspected, one could try to soften the Lord’s offensive word that he was sent “only” to the sheep of Israel, and claim that Jesus was inwardly determined to help the woman, depending on her proving faith. But if Jesus had really inwardly harboured this reservation, he would at least now, after letting the disciples feel the apparent harshness of his purpose and of the divine decree, have to turn kindly to the woman: But not only does he not do so, but even more harshly than he had just done, he tells the woman that he must not waste on the Gentiles the benefits that are meant only for the Jews – “it is not nice to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs” – and it is only by chance, the woman’s unexpected strong statement of faith, that he moves him to heal her daughter from afar. So he has nothing on the disciples: if they only wanted the woman to be helped so that they would be relieved of the annoying crying, Jesus, against his expectation and intention, is moved by an accidental surprise to grant the woman’s request. Indeed, the disciples seem to stand even higher because they initially felt compassion, while Jesus had to be disarmed by a new bold attack.

384

The point of the story is obviously in the woman’s startling words: “Yes, Lord! (namely, it is indeed not right to give the bread of the children to the dogs, but for this reason I do not have to be excluded) for even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their master’s table.” But if the disciples have already pleaded for the woman and without success, this point comes too late and the contrast that has now come into the narrative remains unclear; on the other hand, the exclusion of the Gentiles has become much too serious if Jesus only tells the disciples and then the woman that he has nothing to do with foreigners, and the coincidence that suddenly changes his view becomes even more arbitrary, making the whole picture restless and unstable.

The disciples must step aside, Jesus must not have previously spoken to them about his limited mission, so that at the first moment when the woman addresses him, the collision is formed and resolved through the bold faith of the Gentile woman: in short, so that the original account, the story of Mark (Mark 7:24-30) is restored. The foreign intruders that Matthew has allowed into the original account will be easily sent back home. Just as the woman’s cry, “Have mercy on me, Son of David,” and the fact that she cries out, are borrowed from Mark’s account of the healing of the blind man at Jericho, so also the other feature that the others find this crying annoying and want peace is also taken from there: in Mark’s account, the people there are generally threatening the blind man to be quiet (Mark 10:47), here, in the present story, the crowd is missing, so the disciples must step aside, find the crying annoying, and ask for the request to be granted – because Matthew knows that the miracle will be performed later – and when it comes to the disciples’ words, Matthew remembers that they have said to the Lord on another occasion: “Send them away!” (Mark 6:36, Matthew 14:15). They must now say the same thing, even though the words take on a different meaning on this occasion.

385

If it was now finally a matter of dispatching the disciples – but they had to be dispatched, so that only by the woman’s believing utterance would the collision be resolved – Matthew took the words of Jesus, which the woman hears in the Scripture of Mark, and reworked the one member – for Jesus’ answer has two members – into that saying with which Jesus rejects the disciples’ request. Under this work, a contradiction that Mark had introduced into Jesus’ words was eliminated. For when it is said: let the children first be filled, for it is not good to take “the children’s bread” and throw it to the dogs, in the first clause the dogs are left with the prospect that when the children are filled they will also be filled, but in the second clause of the saying they are deprived of any hope that they will receive bread. The contradiction is to be explained by the fact that Mark was still timid, did not dare to show the limit of Jesus’ destiny in its stark exclusiveness from the outset and, moreover, was involuntarily dominated at this moment by the ecclesiastical view that salvation was first destined for the Jews. But this mood and these influences worked only secretly: the main reason which produced the contradiction lies in the fact that Mark modelled Jesus’ speech on the conversation between Elijah and the widow of Sarepta (1 Kings, 17, 12.13.). How that widow, when Elijah demanded bread from her, asserted the need of her son*), but Elijah spoke courage to her and commanded her to give him first (L. XX s-, nßwroes) bread first, and that with God’s help her son would also find what he needed later, just as in this context it is a question of the previous satisfaction of another, so Jesus must also assert the need of the children, who had to be satisfied first, and only in the second part of the sentence, when the general principle is stated that one must not take “their bread” from the children, only then does it happen that the barrier of Jesus’ determination and the exclusive prerogative of the Jews involuntarily emerge for a moment. But only for a moment! For the woman overthrows the barriers by her bold word, and she had to overthrow them, since the woman of Sarepta also gives the bread, which was intended for her child, to the strange man. Matthew, however, has strengthened the barrier far too much when he suppresses the provision of precedence, which was originally at issue, and even allows the Lord to assert twice to the disciples and to the woman the exclusive privilege of the Jews.

If it was finally about getting rid of the disciples – they had to be dismissed so that the collision would be resolved later by the faithful utterance of the woman – then Matthew took the words of Jesus that the woman hears in the Gospel of Mark and turned one clause, which actually consists of two, into the saying with which Jesus rejects the request of the disciples. In this work, a contradiction that Mark had brought into the words of Jesus was eliminated. When it says, “Let the children be satisfied first, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs,” in the first clause, the dogs are allowed the prospect that they too would be satisfied later when the children are full, while in the second clause of the saying, any hope that they would get bread is taken away from them. The contradiction is explained by the fact that Mark was still hesitant to show the limit of Jesus’ determination in its harsh exclusivity from the outset and was unconsciously dominated by that ecclesiastical view that the Jews were initially (prōton) determined to have salvation. But these moods and influences only worked in secret: the main reason for the contradiction was that Mark had modeled Jesus’ speech after the conversation between Elijah and the widow of Zarephath (1 Kings 17:12-13). Just as that widow, when Elijah asked her for bread, pleaded the need of her son *), and Elijah encouraged her and told her to bring him bread first (LXX εν πρωτοις), with God’s help, her son’s needs would be met afterwards, since this context is about the previous satiation of another, so Jesus must now also assert the need of the children who had to be satiated first against the woman. Only in the second clause of the saying, when the general principle is expressed that one should not take the children’s “bread”, does the barrier of Jesus’ determination and the exclusive prerogative of the Jews unintentionally emerge for a moment. But only for a moment! For the woman overturns the barriers with her bold words, and she had to overturn them, since that widow of Zarephath also gave the bread that was intended for her child to the stranger. However, Matthew has fortified the barrier far too much, by suppressing the determination of priority, which was originally at stake, and even twice allowing the Lord to assert to the disciples and to the woman that the exclusive privilege of the Jews was claimed.

*) Wilke, 570.

386

The situation is still to be considered. Matthew says that the Lord went “into” the territory of Tyre and Sidon and that the woman – a Canaanite, Mark calls her a Greek, from Syro-Phoenicia – met him “just there” when she came “from” the same territory – i.e. Matthew reports an impossibility **). He has written out Mark wrongly! Mark not only reports that Jesus, like Elijah, when he set out for Sarepta, wanted to remain hidden, that he was in a house when that woman approached him and asked for help for her daughter, but he also presents the matter reasonably when he says: Jesus was near the Phoenician region, and here *) that woman came to him; this is just as reasonable and coherent as it is the simple expression of the idea with which we are here concerned. “Jesus was near the Phoenician territory, but not within it.” That woman had come out to him, they stand on the border where the Jewish and the Gentile separated and touched. “Jesus now understands the woman as if she were asking him to go away from the part of the territory where the Jews could seek his help, and to go with the Gentile woman over the border. But the woman says that Jesus can stay where he is and help her from afar **). – The same idea, the same situation – only more appropriately modelled on the idea – that we have already become acquainted with in the story of the centurion of Capernaum.

**) An example of how even the rationalist knows how to tame the contradictions of Scripture! Το Matth. 15, 21 εις τα μερη . . . . remarks Fritzsche p. 516: plurimi post Grotium εis hic versus notare ajunt, quibus ego non tam ideo assentior, quod Mark 7, 24 habet απηλθεν εις τα μεθορια τυρου και σιδωνος quam quod Jesum Hebraeorum terrae fines transgressum esse credibile non est. So therefore εις shall cease to be the region?

*) Mark 7, 31 ist εκ των οριων τυρου και σιδωνος die Gränze und Nachbarschaft von Phönicien, während Matthew C. 15, 22 τα ορια zu dem Gebiete als solchem gemacht hat. Τα ορια entſpricht hier den μερη V. 21.

**) Wilke, p. 578.

387

This idea that Jesus was working beyond the boundaries of his historical sphere of activity gave rise to the present account and subjugated the elements of the story of Elijah (1 Kings 17:8-24) and used them for its representation.

Luke changed the Phoenician woman into the centurion of Capernaum, but also used the hint of Mark, which pointed him to the story of Elijah, to introduce the widow, whose son Elijah raised from the dead, into the Gospel story as the widow of Nain ***). But that only the account of the Phoenician widow by Mark really led him to the story of Elijah, is clearly proved by Luke, when immediately after the account of the centurion, i.e., after he had introduced the idea of the “widow of Nain” into the Gospel story. Luke proves this very clearly when, immediately after the account of the centurion, i.e. after he has let the idea of the work come into his own, he takes the interest of a miracle that happened to a dead man from the Old Testament account and immediately lets it be followed by the awakening of the young man of Nain (C. 7,1-16.).

***) Wilke has attributed the woman of Sarepta, p. 570, to the widow of Nain. Nain again. Luke 7, 12: ως δε ηγγισεν τη πυλη της πολεως και ιδου . . . . χηρα. 1 Κοnig. 17, 10: και ήλθεν εις τον. πυλώνα της πόλεως και ιδού εκεί γυνή κήρα.

Luke 7, 15: και έδωκεν αυτόν τη μητρι αυτού. 1 Kings 17, 23 : και έδωκεν αυτό τη μητρί αυτού.

Luke 7, 16; και εδόξαζον τον θεόν λέγοντες· ότι προφήτης μέγας εγήγερται εν ημίν. 1 Kings 17, 24 : και είπεν ή γυνή … ιδού έγνωκα, ότι συ άνθρωπος θεού.

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If the idea and the first elements of the account of the Phoenician woman have been betrayed, it would be pointless to talk about the so-called credibility. Weisse also says *) that “the story cannot be understood factually, otherwise Jesus would this time hardly be acquitted of the accusation of a narrow-minded bias in national antipathies, which is so little in keeping with his other way of thinking and acting. However, we have not yet found out how Jesus thought and acted in other ways, and we will only be able to examine this later **). Weisse continues: “If, on the other hand, we take the whole for a parable invented by himself, the harshness that lies in the first answer to the woman’s request is cancelled out by the intention in which the whole narrative is then designed from the outset. The point of the whole does not rest in that first answer, but in the woman’s reply. But even in this case the harshness of Jesus’ answer would remain, since he would always have stood as this particular, empirical person before those to whom he presented the parable, and would have taught them the idea that he could speak equally harshly in such situations. Supposing Jesus had wanted to speak of himself in a parable and such a lecture had been possible at all, he would have had to introduce himself completely appropriately from the outset, but not put himself in a crooked light, not present himself as excessively limited. Only in the community, when his person had become an ideal quantity and as such could more easily be set in motion in the dialectic of outlook, then when the universality of the Principle had long been assured and the limitation could be instantly lowered to a momentary semblance of dialectic, only then was it possible that those limited words could be formed. One was much too sure to take offence at them, and passed over them impartially, since in the resolution of the collision they already annulled their limitedness of their own accord. In any case, contradictions of this kind were unavoidable if a dialectic, which was carried out by Paul in the pure element of reflection, was to be vividly portrayed in the immediacy of historical appearance.

*) I, 5-7.

**) Strauss (1, 571.) takes the present account seriously in order to argue about how Jesus wanted to relate to the Gentiles; he thus gives us arguments that go into the blue, like most of his reasoning about points of this kind, since they are based on apologetic premises. The critic should leave such reflections to the theologians, who are far better suited to them!

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