Chapter VIII THE RELATION BETWEEN THE NARRATIVES
iy THE preceding chapters we have adduced evidence in support of the following three propositions: (1) the infancy narratives both in Matthew and in Luke are no later additions, but original parts of the First and Third Gospels; (2) they are both (and particularly the one in Luke) strikingly Jewish Christian and Palestinian in form and in content; (3) they really contain in their original form an account of the virgin birth.
The question now arises whether any literary relationship can be established between them. And that question must clearly be answered in the negative.
It is evident, in the first place, that neither narrative is dependent upon the other; for if there had been such dependence, the difficulties which now face an attempt to fit the two narratives together would never have been permitted to arise. Those difficulties are not indeed, as we shall see, sufficient to establish actual contradiction; but they do suffice to show independence. In fact, one of the chief arguments which have been relied upon to exhibit the mutual independence of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke has been found in the obvious independence of the sections with which these Gospels begin. There can be no reasonable doubt but that the author of the infancy narrative in Matthew was writing in complete independence of the infancy narrative in Luke, and vice versa. It is significant that Pfleiderer, who at one time maintained a contrary view, was led later to abandon his theory.’
Equally unlikely is the view that the two infancy narratives were derived from a common written source. The efforts which have been made by Resch,
1Compare Pfleiderer, Das Urchristenthum, ite Aufl., 1887, pp. 480 f., with the second edition of the same book, i, 1902, pp. 550 f. (English translation, Primitive Christianity, ii, 1909, pp. 303 f.). See “The New Testament Account of the Birth of Jesus,” first article, in Princeton Theological Review. iii, 1905, pp. 647 f. Bruno Bauer in his earlier work, Kritik der evangelischen Geschichte der Synoptiker, i, 1841 (pp. 84-89, 121), held that Matthew’s birth narrative is dependent on Luke’s, but in a later book, Kritik der Eoangelien, i, 1850 (pp. 333 f.), he held, apparently, a more complicated hypothesis as to the relation between the two narratives. The rise of such complicated hypotheses only serves to show anew that the narratives are really independent. The independence of the narratives is no doubt admitted by the majority of scholars, though there have been notable exceptions, such as, for example, Holtzmann (Die Synoptiker, 3te Aufl, 1901 p. 41) who held that the author of the Third Gospel knew Mt. i-ii, thus reversing Pfleiderer’s original hypothesis.
Conrady, and Reitzenstein? to establish such a common source have received little or no support from other scholars. Resch® attempted to reconstruct a Hebrew “Book of the Generations of Jesus Christ,” from which both infancy narratives were derived and upon which the prologue of the Fourth Gospel constitutes a theological reflection; but although the wealth of material which he collected in support of his thesis possesses real and permanent value in helping to establish the Semitic character of the two narratives, his thesis itself no doubt deserves the universal rejection that it has received. Even more obviously wrong was the thesis of Conrady,‘ who actually found in the apocryphal Protevangelium of James the source of both canonical narratives. There can be not the slightest doubt but that the universal judgment of other scholars is correct when they insist against Conrady that far from our canonical narratives being derived from the Protevangelium, the Protevangelium is derived from them.
The theory of Reitzenstein® differs from that of Conrady in that it represents the supposed common source of the two infancy narratives as being for the most part lost; and it differs from that of Resch in that it makes no effort to reconstruct the lost source in detail. Reitzenstein’s hypothesis is based largely upon a poorly preserved Egyptian fragment of about the sixth century, which contains in its first part the dialogue between the angel and Mary in a different form from the one given by Luke. The Egyptian fragment, Reitzenstein argues, cannot be derived from the narrative of Luke; for on that theory the differences cannot well be explained, and Luke’s narrative is in itself incomprehensible and clearly secondary. Rather, he continues, the fragment was derived from a Gospel older than any that we now possess. A notable difference from Luke is the omission of the words, “thou shalt conceive in the womb,” in the promise of the angel. These words being omitted, Reitzenstein says, Mary would naturally, in accordance with ancient usage, understand the angel’s greeting, “Hail, highly favored one; thou hast found favor with God,” and the words, “thou shalt bear a son,” to mean that she was already pregnant. Her question, therefore, which appears in the form, “Whence shall this happen to me, seeing I know not a man?” 8, becomes perfectly natural, whereas (Reitzenstein insists) in the narrative of Luke, where the conception
‘Die Quelle der kanonischen Kindheitsgeschichte Jesus’, 1900.
6 rev por TovTo yelvhoerat, exel vipa ob yore). The letters enclosed in brackets do not appear in the manuscript, but are supplied by conjecture.
is put in the indefinite future, the question is meaningless.’ This representation that the narrative of the annunciation is itself a narrative of the conception —a representation which, according to Reitzenstein, appears in Origen, in those early Christian documents which speak of a conception from the Logos, and notably in a certain prayer discovered at Gizeh °—is brought by Reitzenstein into connection with a contemporary religious idea according to which one god produces another through his speech.® Starting with this religious idea— so the hypothesis runs—the writer of the Gospel from which this fragment is derived constructed the first account of the conception; his account, however, was often misunderstood, and two examples of such misunderstanding appear in our canonical narratives. In Matthew the miracle is announced only after it has happened, whereas in the original account it was in indissoluble connection with the annunciation itself. In Luke the miracle is announced beforehand, in order that it may be brought into parallel with the case of John the Baptist. In both cases the original significance of the annunciation is lost.
To this theory one obvious objection is the late date of Reitzenstein’s fragment as compared with our canonical Gospels. Even Reitzenstein himself seems to be unable to trace back the Gospel upon which the fragment is based to a date earlier than the last part of the second century; *° and our canonical Gospels certainly cannot be put so late as that. Moreover, the fragment, as interpreted by Reitzenstein, certainly does not contain such internal evidence of its primary character as Reitzenstein seems to attribute to it. For example, Mary, according to Reitzenstein’s interpretation, understands the words of the angel to mean that she is already pregnant; yet the angel takes care to inform her that the wonder is dependent upon her consent—in which rather intricate progress of the narrative the steps are by no means clearly marked."* In general, we must say that-entirely too much is built upon an extremely meagre foundation for the theory to become in the slightest degree plausible. The fragment in question is itself very badly preserved, so that even from the outset much has to be left to conjecture. For example, the most fundamental thing of all for Reitzenstein’s theory is that the fragment should not contain the words, “thou shalt conceive in the womb”; yet there is a gap at the proper place. The gap is thought not to be large enough; very possibly it is not large enough. But the fact remains that even with regard to such a fundamental point we are not dealing with definite certainty. Or suppose (as indeed seems probable) that Reitzenstein is right in thinking that the words, “thou shalt conceive in the womb,” were absent. Even then it is by no means certain that the author had any different view of the annunciation from that of Luke; for the omission may have arisen merely from loose quoting of our Third Gospel. Indeed, “thou shalt conceive,” in connection with “thou shalt bring forth,” may have seemed almost like unnecessary fullness of expression, so that one of the phrases may easily have been omitted.
Moreover, if we thus find reasons for doubt in connection with the very basis of the hypothesis, how much more is that the case with the remoter conclusions—for example, the conclusion that Matthew as well as Luke represents a weakening of the original account. In general, it is abundantly clear that Reitzenstein’s fragment has contributed nothing whatever toward solving the vexed problem of the sources of our canonical infancy narratives. And that means, we may remark in passing, that the fragment has also contributed nothing toward explaining the origin of the ideas that our narratives contain. In themselves the narratives contain no hint whatever of the religious idea of creation by the Word; if, therefore, their connection with the source that is supposed to contain that idea breaks down, we have no reason whatever to regard them as based on an attempt to embody that idea in narrative form.
The fact is that every attempt to exhibit a common written source for Mt. i-ii and Lk. i-ii must result in failure. The two narratives, though they agree with regard to certain central facts such as the virgin birth and the birth in Bethlehem, are quite different for the most part both in style and in content. Thus their witness to those facts about which they do agree is a double witness; the two narratives cannot be reduced to one.
But if that be so, the question naturally arises whether the independence of the narratives amounts to contradiction. At this point we begin to leave the sphere of literary criticism, and enter at last into that sphere of historical criticism to which everything that we have said so far has been leading up. If the narratives are contradictory, then their witness—even their witness to those things about which they are agreed—will be greatly weakened. The question of harmony between the two narratives must, therefore, be considered with some care.
In the minds of many modern scholars this question seems almost to be settled in advance. What right have we, they say, to insist that two ancient narratives must be so interpreted as that they shall agree; why should we not interpret each of them by itself, according to the interpretation that is inherently most probable, and entirely without reference to the other; is not this whole business of harmonization a mere unscientific apologetic expedient?
But surely such a method of approach begs the question in a very unscientific way. In countless cases, where we hear two independent and perfectly trustworthy witnesses, A and B, testify to the facts regarding the same event, there are questions that arise in our mind. We say to A: “How is that? I do not understand; you say one thing, and B says another, and I do not see how your testimony agrees with that of B.” And then in countless cases a few words of explanation will clear the whole matter up, and our difficulty results only in a clearer and more complete account of the course of events. In such cases the harmonizing method is not unscientific at all. What is true, moreover, with regard to contemporary testimony is also true with regard to ancient documents. If we have two historical documents, for whose trustworthiness there is any evidence at all, it is not unscientific, but on the contrary in accordance with sound common sense, to favor, other things being equal, that interpretation of each of them which will permit us to regard both of them as true. We may well ask, with Andrews,!? “Is there any consistent history which is not the result of harmonistic expedients?” Surely, then, we should approach without unfavorable prejudice the question of the harmony between the infancy narratives in Matthew and in Luke.
Some of the contradictions that have been discovered between the two narratives disappear at once upon a little examination. Thus we may safely pass over without much discussion such objections as those of Usener, to the effect that “the divinity of Christ is attested in Lk. by the angel’s words to the shepherds and the song of the heavenly host, in Mt. by the appearance of the star in the East; the new-born Messiah receives his first adoration in Lk. from the shepherds, in Mt. from the magi.” ** The obvious answer in the former case is that there might be more than one attestation of the divinity of Christ. In the latter case, after the word “first” (for which there is no warrant) has been removed, a similar answer might be made; the new-born Messiah might have received adoration both from the shepherds and from the magi, and the narrative in Matthew does not say or imply that the particular act of adoration which it relates was the first.
It is objected with more insistence, and with more show of reason, that “Joseph’s home in Mt. is Bethlehem, in Lk. Nazareth.”?* But, after all, the contradiction which is here detected is not a contradiction between an assertion of one narrative and an assertion of the other, but a contradiction between an assertion of one narrative and the silence of the other. Such contradictions in countless cases are apparent rather than real. Matthew does not say that Joseph’s home was Bethlehem before the birth of Jesus. Indeed, the mention of Bethlehem at Mt. ii.t rather than at i.18 might possibly suggest the contrary; for if the events of Mt. i.18-25 took place at Bethlehem (that is, at the ancestral home of the Davidic house) why was that significant fact not mentioned in connection with those events? We are indeed far from desiring to lay stress upon this particular consideration. Quite possibly the reason why the place of the events was not mentioned before Mt. ii. is that only at that point is the place directly important for the details of the narrative. In order to understand the journeyings of the magi, the inquiry at Jerusalem, the reference to Old Testament prophecy by the Sanhedrin, it is necessary to know that Jesus was born at Bethlehem; hence it is in connection with Mt. ii that the place of the birth is mentioned. Moreover, it was the localizing of the birth at Bethlehem, and not that of previous events, which was important as a fulfilment of prophecy. At any rate, the absence of geographical information in Mt. i.18-25 is no proof that all the events there narrated are regarded as having happened at the place which is mentioned at the beginning of the following section. It is not until ii.t that Matthew displays any geographical interest at all.
No doubt the objector will point in triumph to Mt. ii.22f., where it is intimated that after the return from Egypt Joseph and Mary were intending to dwell in Judza, were prevented from doing so only by the fear of Archelaus, and thus were forced to enter into Galilee and dwell “in a city called Nazareth.” If Nazareth had been their original home, would they not have returned there without seeking to enter into Judza at all? And would Nazareth have been referred to simply as “a city called Nazareth,” if it had been regarded as the scene of the events already narrated in Mt. i.18-25?
The objection is by no means so formidable as might at first sight appear. The intention of Joseph and Mary to live in Judza after the return from Egypt is quite comprehensible even if Nazareth had been their original home. Mary’s child, Jesus, was, according to the narrative, the promised king of David’s line; and that fact was known to Mary and to Joseph. What could be more natural than that they should desire to bring the child up in His ancestral home until the time when His kingship should publicly appear? Residence at Bethlehem or at Jerusalem would seem altogether fitting to those who were the earthly parents of the Messiah. So much lies upon the surface of the narrative. There is also of course ample room for surmise. It has often been held, for example, that Joseph may have possessed property in Bethlehem. The suggestion is perfectly possible; and it helps to explain the intention to dwell in Judza. But it is not necessary. One may well understand the situation without it. At any rate, Matthew certainly does not say that the original home of Joseph and Mary was not Nazareth but Bethlehem. Whether the Evangelist (or the one who gave the narrative in Mt. i-ii essentially its present form) was aware of the original residence at Nazareth it is perhaps impossible to say. But even if the narrator was not aware of it, his narrative is free of any contradiction with Luke on this point. Silence is a very different thing from contradiction.
Another evidence of contradiction has often been detected in the fact that according to Luke the annunciation is made to Mary, whereas according to Matthew it is made to Joseph. Of course, the obvious answer is that it might have been made to both.?® But, it will be said, if Mary had already been informed of the miracle of the supernatural conception, would she not have repeated to Joseph what the angel had said to her? In that case, could Joseph ever have formed the intention of putting her away? Would not the annunciation to Joseph, in other words, have been unnecessary if the annunciation to Mary had already taken place?
Here again the supposed contradiction disappears as soon as it is at all carefully examined. Suppose Mary had told Joseph what the angel had said to her. Would he have believed so wonderful a tale? And even if he had believed it, would he have proceeded to take Mary as his wife? She was to become the mother of the Messiah by a stupendous miracle. Was it then right that she should live with a husband as other women do?
We must not, indeed, lay too much stress upon these last considerations. Mary had been told that the child was to be the promised king of David's line. If the descent was traced through Joseph, it was essential that Joseph should be her husband when the child was born. Hence Joseph might have thought, even though he was not to be in a physical sense the father of the child, that it was God’s will for him to take Mary as his wife. It is only fair, however, to notice that this reasoning is not quite conclusive. Must Mary have traced the Davidic descent through Joseph when she listened to the angel’s words in Lk. i.32f.? May she not—if, as is not impossible, she also was descended from David—have traced the Davidic descent through herself, so that her marriage with Joseph would no longer be necessary? And if her marriage was no longer necessary, may not Joseph have formed exactly the plan that is
18 This answer was the one given by Chrysostom in the late fourth century (hom. in Mait., iv, ed. Montfaucon, vii, 1836, p. 63). Many too artless men, Chrysostom says, have detected a contradiction between the two accounts, “in that Luke says that the good news came to Mary, while Matthew says it came to Joseph. But in doing so they have not observed that as a matter of fact both things were done. This it is necessary for us to keep in mind throughout the whole story; for in doing so we shall resolve many seeming contradictions.”
attributed to him in Mt. i.1g? The child was not his child; yet the mother was without blame. May he not have decided to break off the betrothal—which, under the Jewish law, could be done only by a formal divorce—yet in doing so to avoid putting the innocent virgin to shame?
As we have already said, this suggestion is conjectural. We mention it as a possibility and nothing more. Also possible is the view that Joseph did not believe Mary when she told him of the angel’s words. But most likely of all, perhaps, is it to suppose that Mary never told him at all.*® What would the virgin be likely to do after she had passed through the wonderful experience that is narrated in Lk. i26-38? Would she tell Joseph of that experience? Perhaps she might have done so if she had been a woman of coarser mould. But if she was really the kind of person who is depicted with such wonderful verisimilitude in Lk. i-ii, any such action would be open to objections of a very serious kind. To tell Joseph of her experience would be to expose herself to disbelief. Her experience, after all, was entirely unique; nothing like it had been heard of in the whole history of the world. Even she herself, in the very presence of the angel, had failed to understand; even she, in her maidenly consciousness, had shrunk from what her own ears had heard. How then could she ever hope that Joseph would believe? What would she do under such circumstances? Surely it is obvious what she would do. She would wait for a vindication from God. The messenger who had spoken to her could speak also to her betrothed. It all depended upon God’s will. Meanwhile she could bear patiently the burden which she had accepted when she said: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” She was content to wait for God’s good time.
Far from being in contradiction, therefore, the two narratives supplement each. other in the most remarkable way. Neither is thoroughly comprehensible without the other. Mary’s attitude is not explained in Matthew, and Joseph’s attitude is not explained in Luke; but when the two narratives are put together the course of events in all essentials is fairly clear. When the wonderful promise came to her, Mary went not to Joseph, but to a sympathizing woman friend. But she did not go of her own motion; she went only because of the angel’s express words. Elisabeth, too, the angel had said, had passed through a marvellous experience. In that quarter, therefore, and in that quarter only, could Mary hope to find credence; what she could tell Elisabeth would be confirmed by what Elisabeth herself had passed through. How wonderfully natural the
Mary, he supposes, did refrain from telling Joseph, in order that he might not fall into the sin of Zacharias; Mary foresaw that Joseph would not believe.
narrative is, how exactly in accordance with the. meditative and sensitive nature attributed by the Lucan narrative to the mother of the Lord!
Then came the return to Nazareth and the hour of Mary’s trial. But she was content to await God’s time; she was content to bear the burden which God had asked her to bear. Her faith was not in vain. Joseph, too, was made the recipient of a divine message and took unto him his wife. God had provided a human protector for the maiden and her child. Here as elsewhere the seeming contradictions in these wonderful narratives lie only on the surface; the underlying harmony and the underlying verisimilitude are profound."
Finally, it has been objected that the narrative in Luke leaves no place for the visit of the magi and the sojourn in Egypt. Forty days after the birth in Bethlehem, according to Luke, there was the presentation in the Temple. The visit of the magi could hardly have taken place during this forty-day interval; for it would have been impossible to take the child into the Temple when the wrath of the king was so aroused—that would have been to face the very jaws of death. Evidently, therefore, the flight into Egypt took place immediately after the magi had come; no visit to the Temple could have intervened. If, therefore, the two narratives are to be harmonized, we must suppose that when the presentation in the Temple had been completed, Joseph and Mary returned with the child to Bethlehem, received there the visit of the magi, and then fled into Egypt.
There is nothing at all unnatural in this suggestion. The only difficulty arises in connection with Lk. ii.39, where it is said: “And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city Nazareth.” These words seem at first sight to require an immediate return to Nazareth after the presentation in the Temple, and therefore seem to exclude a prior return to Bethlehem and a sojourn in Egypt.
But does not such a view involve an undue pressing of the Evangelist’s words? The author of Lk. ii.39 is interested in pointing out the fact that.the requirements of the law were satisfied in the case of the infant Jesus. He knew that the childhood of Jesus was passed for the most part at Nazareth.
17 Some noteworthy scholars have, indeed, taken a somewhat different view of the course of events from that which has just been set forth. It has been held, for example, by Ebrard (Wissenschaftliche Kritik der evangelischen Geschichte, 3te Aufl., 1868, p. 271) and by Riggenbach (Vorlee sungen tiber das Leben des Herrn Jesu, 1858, pp. 169, 172) that the marriage took place before and not after the visit of Mary to Elisabeth. That view is no doubt less natural, as it is far less commonly held, than the one which we have adopted (see the discussion in Chapter IX, pp. 233 f.). But we are not concerned here to argue the point. It is enough for our present purpose if it can be shown that there are various ways in which, if our knowledge were more complete, the harmony between the two narratives could be exhibited.
But what he is interested here in observing is that that well-known residence in Nazareth did not begin until after the requirements of the law had been satisfied in Bethlehem and in Jerusalem. In fact, he is not interested just at this point in anything else at all; he would not care, for the moment, how many events took place between the presentation in the Temple and the return to Nazareth, provided only the return to Nazareth did not take place before the accomplishment of the requirements of the law. The representation in Matthew, therefore, does not contradict the real point of Lk. ii.39. No doubt that verse gives eloquent testimony to the independence of Luke as over against Matthew; if the Third Evangelist had had the account of the flight to Egypt before him when he wrote, he would hardly have put the verse in its present form. But here again the silence of one narrative regarding events recorded in another is quite a different thing from actual contradiction.
Thus the supposed contradictions have succeeded only in demonstrating the complete independence of the two narratives. No doubt if one writer had had the work of the other before him, the task of fitting the narratives together would have been made much easier than it is. But such ease of harmonizing would have diminished rather than increased the value of the testimony which these infancy narratives render to the central things that they both record. As it is, we have not only two witnesses to the virgin birth and the birth in Bethlehem, but two independent witnesses.
It is perfectly possible, moreover, despite superficial difficulties, to put the narratives together in such a way as to produce a natural account of the course of events. When that is done, we have the following order of events: (1) annunciation to Zacharias, (2) annunciation to Mary, (3) visit of Mary to Elisabeth, (4) return of Mary to Nazareth, (5) discovery of her condition, (6) annunciation to Joseph, (7) marriage of Joseph and Mary, (8) journey to Bethlehem on account of the census, (9) birth of Jesus, (10) visit of the shepherds, (11) circumcision at Bethlehem eight days after birth, (12) presentation in the Temple at Jerusalem forty days after birth, (13) return to Bethlehem, (14) visit of the magi, (15) flight to Egypt, (16) return to Nazareth. No doubt this order of events is in a few particulars not altogether certain; but it is at least perfectly possible; and if other arrangements also are possible, that is not at all derogatory to the harmony between the two accounts.
But even though this much should be granted, even though it should be admitted that the two narratives are not actually contradictory, they are at least different; and their mere difference, as distinguished from contradiction, might conceivably be regarded as an argument against their historicity. The source of information about events concerning the birth of Jesus, it might be argued, was, in the very nature of the case, unitary; it could be found only in the testimony of Mary. How, then, could two such different accounts as those which are found in Matthew and in Luke ever have been produced? If the information all came from Mary, how could any narrative which was derived from her have been so incomplete, as each one of our two narratives, when it is taken by itself, certainly is?
Of course it may be answered that there was another possible source of information—namely, the testimony of Joseph. But in the first place, Joseph does not appear in the Gospels in connection with the public ministry of Jesus; and therefore it has been conjectured that he died at an early time. And in the second place, the testimony of Joseph, even if he lived long enough to give it to the disciples, could hardly have been so independent of the testimony of Mary as to produce an entirely distinct cycle of tradition. Mary and Joseph lived together; there must have been, after the birth of Jesus, the fullest possible exchange of testimony between them. Even, therefore, if the narrative in Matthew goes back to the testimony of Joseph, as distinguished from the testimony of Mary which appears in the narrative in Luke, it still seems surprising that the Joseph-narrative does not contain more of Mary’s experiences, and the Mary-narrative more of Joseph’s. How did two such distinct cycles of tradition ever originate if the ultimate source of information was essentially one?
This objection was put in a particularly striking way by E. F. Gelpke in 1841.78 Writing not long after the appearance of Strauss’s “Life of Jesus,” Gelpke sought to add to the merely negative criticism of Strauss some positive understanding of the infancy narratives as works of art. But this understanding, according to his view, was not favorable to the historicity of the accounts. On the contrary, he said, the very difference between the two narratives, the distinct artistic unity of each when it is taken by itself, would be impossible if the narrators were giving an account of facts. How could facts that were so closely connected in themselves be so completely separated in the tradition? The two narratives, Gelpke insisted, are written from two distinct points of view, and set forth two distinct pictures. “The narrative of Luke,” says Gelpke, “presupposes, as it were, the notion that earth as well as heaven recognized the pure virgin, and found in her condition no reason for offence, but on the contrary, as was the case with Elisabeth, only an occasion for joy.” Very different, on the other hand, is the narrative of Matthew. There we have, instead of the simple joy that prevails in Luke, the bitter hostility of the world-rulers; and instead of an intimate idyl of family life, a mighty drama in which enemies seek the life of the new-born king. No one, Gelpke insists, would want to take the incidents of one narrative and put them into the gaps left in the other. To do so would be to destroy the artistic beauty of each of the two stories. It would be like jumbling together a drama of world-history with an intimate picture of family life.1°
In commenting upon this argument, we may freely admit that Gelpke does display a certain amount of true appreciation of the artistic beauty of the narratives. It may be freely admitted, within certain limits, that each narrative constitutes an artistic unity which might be spoiled by the addition of incidents taken from the other account. But what of it? What Gelpke has not observed— if we may use a figure of speech which Gelpke in his day could not have employed—is that although a portrait is different from a photograph it may be just as faithful a representation of the person that it depicts. In many cases a portrait would be spoiled by the addition to it of the wealth of details that a photograph contains. Those details belong truly to the person whose portrait is being made; yet they would detract not merely from the artistic beauty of the picture, but also from the faithfulness of its representation. A portrait, in other words, as distinguished from a photograph, is selective; by omitting some details it enables the eye to grasp those details that remain; and thus it brings us into far closer and far truer spiritual contact with the person whom it sets forth.
So it may well be with the infancy narratives of Matthew and of Luke. Even if we admit that either of the narratives would be spoiled by the addition of the incidents narrated in the other, that does not mean that both of the narratives are the product of free invention; but it only means that they are portraits rather than photographs; they present two distinct aspects of the birth and infancy of Jesus, but each of the two aspects may well be in accordance with the facts. Thus we deny that the artistic distinctiveness of the narratives is at all incompatible with their historical truth.
With regard to the specific reasons for the divergence in the tradition, various views may be held. A process of artistic selection may, as has just been intimated, well be given a certain place. It is, indeed, improbable, as we pointed out at an earlier stage of our discussion, that the two infancy narratives are dependent upon a common written source. But even if there was no dependence upon a common written source, there may well have been depend-
19 Compare the anonymous work, The Jesus of History, 1869 (of which the author was Sir Richard Davis Hanson), p. 130: “In the one picture, all is peace and hope—in the other, all is violence and terror.” Here also this difference in the two narratives is regarded as furnishing an ence upon a common oral tradition; the author of each narrative may well have selected from a common fund of oral information those incidents that belonged to the particular aspect of the birth and infancy of Jesus which he was interested in setting forth. Such selection, we think, is not really inimical to historical trustworthiness; and in this case we have the advantage of being able to let one narrative supplement the other. We can be thankful, therefore, for the twofold account of these events. Each picture is partial; even the combined picture formed when both are taken together is partial; but when we have first sunk ourselves in the sympathetic contemplation of each, and then have put our impressions together, we discover that the two accounts are not contradictory but supplementary, and that when we use both of them we learn just those things that we most need to know.
But the selective process that led to the distinctiveness of the two narratives was hardly of a merely literary kind. On the contrary, it probably began at a time prior to literary fixation. It is probably a true instinct that has led many readers to suppose that Joseph is the source of the narrative in Matthew and ~ Mary the source of that in Luke. In the latter case, the indications seem to be particularly clear. In the Lucan infancy narrative, Mary’s inmost thoughts are revealed—not, it is true, in an indelicate or verbose manner, but in a way quite consonant with the character that is here attributed to the mother of the Lord. And the whole narrative is presented from her point of view. Of course these facts might conceivably be explained by the inherent importance of Mary for the events that are here narrated, an importance which would appeal to some other narrator as well as to Mary herself. And yet such an explanation does not seem to go quite the whole way. There is such delicacy in the touches by which Mary’s part in the events is set forth, and such intimacy in the glimpses which are granted into her inmost soul, that the sympathetic reader will hardly be able to rid himself of the conviction that this narrative is derived mediately or immediately from her. Even Harnack has not kept altogether free of this impression. His naturalistic principles will not, indeed, permit him to accept as historical the deeper elements in the narrative; and of course, therefore, he cannot believe that the story of the birth of Jesus, as we have it, comes really from the mother of Jesus. But at least he admits that Luke regarded it as coming from Mary, and that it presupposes an impression which Mary had made upon the circle from which it came.”° Evidently what we have here in Harnack’s thinking is a struggle between his naturalistic principles,
20 Harnack, Neue Untersuchungen zur Apostelgeschichte, 1911, pp. 109 f. (English translation, The Date of the Acts and of the Synoptic Gospels, 1911, pp. 154-156). When Harnack says that since Jesus’ family did not believe on Him during His lifetime, this story could not in its present form have been produced before Mary’s death, his argument is unconvincing. See below, pp. 245-248.
and his perfectly correct instinct in the sphere of literary criticism. If we do not share his naturalistic principles—if, unlike him, we are ready to admit the entrance -of the supernatural in the life of Jesus—then we shall have no difficulty in following the leading of the literary indications which at this point he so convincingly sets forth; and so we shall hold that this narrative is really derived from Mary, the mother of our Lord.
Of course, even then the exact course of the transmission will still be in doubt. Did the author of the Gospel himself come into contact with the mother of Jesus? Even that view is perhaps not altogether impossible. Or was it an earlier writer of a Jewish Christian source who received the essentials of the story from Mary’s lips? That view again is perfectly possible. Or was there a brief course of oral transmission between Mary and the one who first put the story into literary form? Some modern scholars have thought in this connection of Philip and his prophesying daughters, with whom the author of Luke- Acts (if he be indeed the same as the author of the we-sections) came into direct contact according to Acts xxi.8f. To Philip’s daughters would then be due, in part at least, the womanly touch which has been detected in the narrative. This view, again, is not impossible, but like the other views it is not certain. The womanly touch in the narrative is perhaps adequately explained by the supposition that the information came ultimately from Mary, whether or not it passed through other lips before it was finally put into literary form. What really stands firm is that the narrative is written from Mary’s point of view, and therefore in some sort claims to come from her. We see no reason whatever to reject that claim.
In Matthew, on the other hand, everything is presented from the point of view of Joseph. His scruples it is that are silenced by the appearance of the angel; he is the one who receives heavenly guidance as to the movements of the mother and the child. Was he, then, the ultimate source of this narrative as Mary was the source of the narrative in Luke? The objection to this view, as has been intimated above, is that Joseph does not appear in connection with the public ministry of Jesus and therefore may be supposed to have died at an early time. Could he then have delivered his testimony before he died? There are perhaps difficulties in the way of an affirmative answer. During the earthly life of Jesus, the virgin birth—even supposing it was a fact—would, as we shall see, naturally remain secret. To have spoken of it would have given rise only to slander and misunderstanding. If, then, Joseph died long before the resurrection of Jesus and the founding of the Church in Jerusalem, to whom could he have handed on his marvellous tale? Must he not have died before his secret had passed his lips? How then can we have in Mt. i-ti a narrative of
Joseph independent of that testimony of Mary which is preserved in the first two chapters of Luke?
The objection is perhaps not quite conclusive. In the first place, may not Joseph have committed the story to writing before he died? That is perhaps not quite beyond the bounds of possibility. In the second place, may he not have confided his testimony to some one who could be trusted not to make it known until the proper time? That the persons chosen for such confidence should have been the younger brethren of Jesus is indeed unlikely in itself, as well as out of accord with their attitude as it is recorded in the Gospels. But there may well have been others whom he might trust to the full, and in whom it might be fitting (as it was not in the case of Jesus’ brothers) for him to confide.
Of course it remains possible that Mary is the source of both our infancy narratives. Even then the difference between the two accounts may conceivably be explained. Joseph no doubt confided in Mary; he told her of his experiences as they are recorded for us in Mt. i-ii: Mary would then include these experiences of Joseph in what she told to sympathetic ears when finally she broke the silence that she had previously preserved. But some of her hearers might be interested in some features of what she told, and some in others. Relatives of Joseph, for example, would be interested in those features that concerned Joseph and that were based ultimately upon his testimony; and thus it is those features, especially, which they would transmit. In this way an early divergence in the tradition might well come to pass.
The difference of our two narratives from each other is therefore probably to be explained, not exclusively by separateness in the ultimate sources of information, and not exclusively by a selective process either in the course of the transmission or at the time of the final literary fixation, but by both causes combined. The exact proportions in which the two causes were operative can never be determined; there is room for various perfectly possible conjectures. But if so, it cannot be said that the difference in the two narratives disproves the historicity of both. Not merely one explanation, but various perfectly reasonable explanations, can be given of the way in which the tradition came to diverge.
One of the most serious questions of harmony between the representations of the birth of Jesus in Matthew and in Luke has not been discussed so far, because it belongs in a somewhat different category from those questions with which we have just dealt. The difference is that this question, unlike those others, concerns not the relation between the two infancy sections, but the relation between one infancy section and a detail contained in a later chapter