Library of Historical Apologetics

Gwatkin on the Scandal of the Cross

tim — Mon, 14 May 2012 00:01:41 +0000

But the fullest illustration of the scandal of the cross may be found in the Life of Apollonius, written by Philostratus at the command of Julia Domna. It is practically the Gospel rewritten to satisfy such objections as those of Celsus: and that it was more or less intended for something of the sort seems hardly doubtful. Apollonius is not a Jewish carpenter, but a well-born Greek who learns his wisdom (so far as he needs to learn it) in the approved way, from the sages of India and Ethiopia. He knows the thoughts of men, and (unlike Christ) is continually predicting the fortunes of those he meets. Many of his miracles read almost like those of Jesus of Nazareth; but they are not told in the bald way of the Evangelists: they are decked out with an immense amount of elegant rhetoric. But the most striking contrast is in the closing scenes. Apollonius is not betrayed by a false disciple (as if he could not have seen through a Judas) but accused like Socrates by enemies before Domitian, and allows himself to be shaved and put in fetters. In prison he takes his feet out of the fetters for a moment to shew Damis that he can do it, and sends him on to meet him at Dicaearchia. At the trial he rebukes Domitian in open court, and when challenged to save himself by miracle, vanishes before the eyes of all the grandees of Rome. In the evening he appears to Damis at Dicaearchia, and soon afterwards mysteriously disappears from the earth. This at once recalls the objection of Celsus, that Jesus ought to have vanished from the cross, and Origen’s reply, that if it had been so written, Celsus would have objected again, that he ought to have vanished before. Both in statements and omissions, the contrast of the Life of Apollonius with the Gospels is the contrast of heathen pride and rhetoric with the simple truthfulness and insight of the Christian writers.

Henry Melvill Gwatkin, Early Church History to A.D. 313, vol. 2 (London: Macmillan and Co., 1912), pp. 142-43

Chandler on St. Paul’s Question

tim — Tue, 08 May 2012 02:58:17 +0000

I know indeed that a Man, who thinks the Resurrection impossible, and that ’tis above the Power of God to effect it, will never be satisfied with the Accounts we have of these appearances of Christ. And if this is his fixed Principle, no Account whatsoever could possibly give him Satisfaction. His Infidelity would start Objections for ever, and the How can these Things be, weigh down all possible Proof and Demonstration of them. But Saint Paul’s Question I have never yet seen fairly answered. Why should it be thought a Thing impossible for God to raise the Dead? Supposing the Possibility of this Truth, and taking in the great Ends the Resurrection of Christ answers in the Christian Scheme; the Event itself, how surprising soever it may appear, will be found no more than suitable to the great Intentions of Providence to be carried on by it, and the Proofs of the Reality of it will be more easily admitted, and seen in a stronger and more convincing Light.

Samuel Chandler, The Witnesses of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ Re-Examined (London: J. Noon, 1744), pp. 104-05.

James Orr on Huxley’s Centaur and Hume’s Error

tim — Wed, 28 Mar 2012 15:24:06 +0000

What real cogency Hume’s argument possesses does not lie in these logical subtleties, based on an assumed “firm and unalterable experience,” but in the other direction of the strong antecedent improbability of deviations from the known course of nature, as compared with the admitted fallibility of human testimony. Every one recognises that the presumption against a really miraculous event is so strong as, in ordinary circumstances, to be practically insuperable. As Hume argues, the course of nature is uniform, while human testimony is notoriously fallible. How, then, shall the one ever be successfully pitted against the other? The simply unusual is frequently discredited on this ground, often with an excess of scepticism [Cf. Hume’s case of the Indian prince (from Locke) refusing to believe in water freezing because he had never seen it (Works, iv. p. 129)]; how much more the positively miraculous? Even here, however, it may be shown that Hume pushes his argument beyond its due bounds. The improbability in question is felt when the circumstances are ordinary; but what if they are extraordinary? Hume assumes that the presumption against a miracle must always be practically infinite. But everything here depends on circumstances. It is quite conceivable that the circumstances may be such as not only to create no antecedent presumption against the miracle, but to yield a strong presumption for it. A miracle, that is, can never be treated as a wholly isolated event. If it is, the presumption against it will be invariably strong. If the miracle, in addition to being sporadic, is frivolous or absurd, as, e.g., in the case of Mr. Arnold’s prodigy of the pen being turned into a pen-wiper [Literature and Dogma, p. 95 (1883)], or Professor Huxley’s centaur trotting down the street [Hume, p. 134], it may be summarily dismissed from consideration. Where, on the other hand, the miracle is not isolated, but stands in a context which renders it rational and credible, the case is widely altered. Given, e.g.,—to state the Christian position —such a Person as Jesus Christ declared Himself to be, the miracles that are attributed to Him become in the highest degree natural—events to be expected from such an One. Given, again, a great scheme of divine revelation, extending through many ages, in successive historical dispensations, it is in itself anything but incredible that miracles should have been employed in the founding of these dispensations, or in connection with them. Even in nature, it can be argued, the founding of a new kingdom, or rise from a lower to a higher—as at the introduction of life— cannot well be construed without something analogous to miracle. This is a class of considerations of which Hume takes no account—perhaps was incapable of appreciating.

James Orr, David Hume and his Influence on Philosophy and Theology (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1903), pp. 213-15.

Link: http://books.google.com/books?id=qT9HAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA213

Chesterton on Evidence and Dogma

tim — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 13:01:58 +0000

Somehow or other an extraordinary idea has arisen that the disbelievers in miracles consider them coldly and fairly, while believers in miracles accept them only in connection with some dogma. The fact is quite the other way. The believers in miracles accept them (rightly or wrongly) because they have evidence for them. The disbelievers in miracles deny them (rightly or wrongly) because they have a doctrine against them.

G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (New York: Dodd, Mead and Co., 1945), pp. 278-79

Isaac Taylor:

tim — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 00:01:16 +0000

WE are told that Christianity must be content to take its place along with many indeterminate questions, which are, and which should be spoken of among reasonable men as “matters of opinion.”

I deny this allegation; and I take my position, with all humility, yet fearlessly, on this opposite ground, namely: that, if those modes of proceeding which have been authenticated as good in other cases, are allowed to take effect in this case, nothing in the entire round of human belief is more infallibly sure than is Christianity, when it claims to be—RELIGION, GIVEN TO MAN BY GOD.

The same proposition, stated exceptively, may be thus worded. Christianity can be held in question only by aid of violence done to established principles of reasoning, and by contempt of laws of evidence, which in all cases analogous to this are enforced.

I must not be misinterpreted in this instance. Personally, I might take in hand to demonstrate some unquestionable theorem in geometry, or to establish the most certain of the conclusions in the circle of the physical sciences; and I might so mismanage the process as to make those things seem doubtful which, in fact, are absolutely certain. The question just now, is not whether an individual writer succeeds or fails in bringing a demonstrable argument to a true conclusion; which may happen or not; but whether the argument itself be demonstrable or not.

Grant me therefore so much liberty as this, at starting, that is to say—allow me to fail in my present honest endeavour, yet WITHOUT PREJUDICE TO MY CAUSE. Grant me this, and I will repay your candour with an equivalent. I shall impute no bad motives to you as a cover to my chagrin in finding that I do not bring you over to my side: I shall not tell you that your resistance to my reasoning is nothing but an immoral obduracy, springing from the corrupt wishes of an “unregenerate heart.” It may be so in fact; but that is your affair, not mine. “Let a man examine himself.” I am no Inquisitor, nor Father Confessor; nor do I profess to be a spiritual advisor.

Besides, I am not about to deal in persuasives, or to be eloquent and ingenious. I would not lay a hand upon this argument at all if I did not find it hard to the touch, in every part of it.

Isaac Taylor, The Restoration of Belief, new ed. (Boston: E. P. Dutton and Co., 1867), pp. 109-10

No flighty converts

tim — Mon, 05 Mar 2012 00:01:02 +0000

I do not imagine, or expect, that I can win over, at once, to Christianity, the minds of sceptical workingmen, who may be listening to me. I know too well, by personal experience, how hard it is to part with sceptical convictions—how difficult it is to bring a mind, which has become strongly warped in the direction of unbelief, to enter upon a determined, steady, and persevering consideration of the Christian Evidences. And without this—without an earnest and devoted study of Christian Evidences—no thinking skeptic (for I am not addressing vulgar scoffers) can ever become a real Christian.

I seek no flighty converts from your ranks—no sudden passing over to our side from yours, of some hot, excitable partisan, who is incapable of thinking. I seek to lead you to accept what I believe to be Truth, by inducing you to practise the daily reflection, the steady conning over and over again of each item of the Christian Evidences, which effectually cured my doubts, and rendered me a settled and grateful believer. I would not lift up my finger, or stir a straw, to make a sudden and spasmodic conversion of any one of you, which would leave you helpless in your new belief, and incapable of giving a reason of the hope within you. Such a convert would be a very useless one. I want to enlist real soldiers for my Master.

Thomas Cooper, The Verity of Christ’s Resurrection from the Dead (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1875), pp. 131-32

Knox on the ascension

tim — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 00:01:10 +0000

Of course, the Resurrection involves a corollary, and I think it is largely this corollary the modern critics boggle at. It involves the Ascension. “Christ did truly rise again from death, and took again his body, with flesh, bones, and all things appertaining to the perfection of man’s nature; wherewith he ascended into heaven.” Mr. Streeter says he knows of no living theologian who would maintain a physical Ascension in this crude form. I have no claim to be a theologian. I can only say that as a person of ordinary education I believe, as I hope for salvation, in this literal doctrine; I believe, that whatever change may have glorified the Risen Body when it passed beyond the cloud into a new mode or sphere of existence, the earth has ever since the Ascension been the lighter by so many pounds weight, and the sum of matter in the world the less by so many cubic inches of volume.

Ronald Arbuthnott Knox, Some Loose Stones (London: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1914), pp. 84-85

Tournier on the experience of God

tim — Mon, 20 Feb 2012 00:01:37 +0000

We may hear the voice of God in a biblical passage which comes home to us personally, in the remembrance of a remark made by a friend, in a question which we put to ourselves, in a thought which comes to us when in his presence, sometimes when we least expect it.

I always remember one New Year’s Eve. I had left my wife at home in order to spend the moment of midnight, in accordance with tradition, standing in the Cathedral square with the uncle who had brought me up. When I got back I found my wife overwhelmed and transformed.

‘I have suddenly realized for the first time the greatness of God!’ she told me.

As the bells rang out, telling of the inexorable and endless march of time, it had been borne in upon her that God was infinitely greater than she had ever imagined. The voice of God had spoken to her through the voice of the bells, and she had answered. Her answer could be read in her radiant face. It was a reply so clear and true that I in my turn was touched by it.

The greatest event in life had taken place: the personal encounter of Creator and creature, the dialogue between the voice of God, so great that it makes itself heard in every earthly sound, without any one of them ever sufficing completely to express it, and the voice of man, so weak that nothing he can say is adequate to the reply. It is an incredible dialogue, so disproportionate are the participants—and yet they are like, for God willed man to be ‘in his image’ (Gen. 1.27); they are both persons, capable of engaging together in dialogue.

We were very weary, my wife and I, at the time. For years I had devoted myself energetically to church work, where as everyone knows, one is always coming up against problems which seem trivial indeed compared to the task to be accomplished. And now, of a sudden, God was showing us his greatness, calling us out of the tangle of sterile arguments in which I had let myself be caught. During the year that followed he led us from experience to experience, to a renewing of our whole personal and professional life, calling us from ecclesiastical activity to spiritual ministry.

Gwatkin on biblical criticism

tim — Wed, 15 Feb 2012 17:52:27 +0000

Speaking quite generally, so as to leave behind all personal references, it may be submitted that abundant learning is not always inconsistent with small regard for the probabilities of common sense and human nature. What is to be said, for instance, when the origin of the Gospels is discussed as if the writers were modern literary men with scissors and paste, or German monographists who make it a business to set down every single thing that they can find out? Or when the problem is handled without reference to Jewish methods or Christian needs of teaching? Or when a corrupt or misunderstood quotation of Papias—that St. John was killed by the Jews—is preferred to the clear evidence of Irenaeus? Or when historical investigation is reduced to a mechanical process which ignores historical surroundings and personal character? Take another sample. Straight after an admission that the writer of the Fourth Gospel shows a considerable knowledge of Jewish institutions, is it common sense to force on absolutely open words the enormous blunder of taking the high priesthood for an annual office? Has the intelligent foreigner, ever set down the like about royalty in England? And how about quotations in early writers? They are discussed with infinite learning and ingenuity, but without the smallest regard to ancient or even to modern habits of quotation. Schmiedel has a very neat dilemma, which has found much favour with the literary critics. If the words are not precisely what we find in our Gospel, they must have come from some other source: if they are, they must be “winged words” which might have come from anywhere. But the critics are seldom reduced to the “winged words,” for a disagreement is easily made by taking another reading or another meaning for the passage. So good a method will bear extension; and some thirty years ago they carried it down to Tatian: but they have dropped it after Justin since the discovery of the Diatessaron, and that in such haste that they never stop to ask what length of past history is implied by Tatian’s recognition of the Gospels, and by the state of the text in his time. If some of them will kindly turn their attention for a while from Papias and Justin to Westcott, almost any single page of his writings (the rest supposed lost) will give them abundant proof that he “did not recognize” the Fourth Gospel, or at any rate “attached no authority to it.” Abbott and Schmiedel are scholars from whom we would gladly learn, for some of their other work is excellent; but they have shewn small judgment here. “Critical” methods like these will turn any history whatever into romance. As feats of paradox they are altogether admirable; but when they are laid before us as the ripest results of modern historical research, we are compelled to make our protest in the name of truth and sanity against this astounding license of reckless theorizing, forced interpretations, contempt of evidence, and systematic disregard of common sense.

Henry Melvill Gwatkin, The Knowledge of God and its Historical Development, second edition, vol. 2 (Edinburgh: T. & T. Clark, 1908), pp. 50-52

The “myth” of Alexander the Great

tim — Mon, 06 Feb 2012 00:01:05 +0000

Eumenes and Diodorus, the chroniclers of the daily affairs of this pretended conqueror and ruler, tell us he died on the eleventh of June, toward the close of the day. But Aristobulus and Ptolemy, who were at his bedside at the time, mention the thirteenth of June as the day of his death! What more is wanting to show the legendary character of this alleged history, when eye-witnesses cannot come within two days of the death of their hero? If I doubt the truth of the Gospel histories because they differ by three hours as to the time of the crucifixion of Christ; shall I believe the pretended history of this mythical Alexander, when eye-witnesses differ two days as to the time of his death! Certainly not. They cannot all be right, and the probability is that they are all wrong. The whole thing is, doubtless, a mere invention, as we have said; or a fabulous story gradually gathered around some village hero of Macedon, who, in some street quarrel, might have soundly beaten the boasting aristocratic Xerxes of the neighborhood. This is doubtless all there is of the matter, and it only needs some new Strauss to apply his dissecting criticism to the narratives to demonstrate this, and show the origin and progress of the myth.

Thomas Baldwin Thayer, Christianity Against Infidelity: Or, The Truth of the Gospel History, 2nd ed. (Cincinatti: John A. Gurley, 1849), pp. 392-93