The Origin of Paul's Religion; What Is Faith?; The Virgin Birth of Christ

ie THE preceding chapter it has been argued that there is no contradiction between the two infancy narratives and secular history. But what shall be said about their relation to the rest of the New Testament? That question must now be examined with some care.

It will be convenient to begin with what the Gospels permit us to learn regarding the attitude of Jesus’ contemporaries—the attitude, that is, of those who came into contact with Him during His life upon earth. Was that attitude such as to exclude the historicity of the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke?

In this connection it may freely be admitted that according to the Gospels there was no general knowledge of the virgin birth of Christ among the people of Palestine during the period of the public ministry; the people of Nazareth, for example, are represented in Mt. xiii.55 as saying with respect to Jesus, “Is not this the carpenter’s son?”, and are similarly represented in Lk. iv.22. Evidently Jesus was generally regarded simply as the son of Joseph. But what of it? Surely Joseph and Mary would not have spoken publicly about a thing which in the nature of the case could not be proved, and which, therefore, could, until Jesus’ claims should be vindicated in some palpable way, only give rise to suspicion and slander. There is not the slightest evidence in Lk. i-ii and Mt. i-ii to show that the story of the supernatural conception was narrated by Joseph or Mary to the shepherds, to the magi, or to Simeon. We have, indeed, found it not improbable that Mary confided in her kinswoman Elisabeth; indeed, she must certainly be supposed to have done so if the greeting in Lk. i.42-45 indicates knowledge on Elisabeth’s part that the child was already conceived in Mary’s womb, and if, as is probable, Elisabeth knew that the marriage, as distinguished from the betrothal, of Joseph and Mary had not yet taken place. But such confidence of Mary in Elisabeth, to whom she had by implication been directed by the angel, is very different from any general publication of her strange experience; and there is not the slightest reason to suppose that Elisabeth betrayed Mary’s confidence by telling others of what Mary had told her. Moreover, Elisabeth and Zacharias were both of them aged at the time when John the Baptist was born; they probably did not long continue to live. For many reasons, therefore, it is unlikely that the story of the virgin birth should by their agency have become known. As for Mary herself, the implication, of the Lucan narrative at least, is that she, in her quiet, meditative way, kept the wonderful secret locked in her heart. There was, therefore, no reason why, even if the virgin birth was a fact, the contemporaries of Jesus during the public ministry should have had any knowledge of it. Hence their ignorance, as attested by the Gospels, provides no argument at all against the historicity of the infancy narratives.

A similar consideration is valid also in the case of the brothers of Jesus. In the Gospel of John we are told expressly that at a certain period, at least, in the public ministry, Jesus’ brothers did not believe on Him; and this general representation of their attitude is on the whole confirmed by the scanty references to them in the Synoptic Gospels. Such an attitude on their part would perhaps hardly have been likely if they had known of the virgin birth, though conceivably it might be said that even if they had been told of it, they might have disbelieved the story. But is it likely that Joseph or Mary would have told them of the wonderful event? This question must certainly be answered in the negative. If there were any persons who would not be told, it was just the younger brothers of Jesus. Surely what Mary would do with her knowledge of the wonderful, unbelievable event would be to keep it as a secret until the time when the lofty destiny of her son should be made known by God in some unmistakable way.

The case would of course be different if Mary herself* displayed ignorance of the virgin birth; for of course she at least could not be ignorant of it if it was a fact. Such ignorance on the part of Mary has been found by many scholars in Mk. iii21, 31. In Mk. iii21 it is said that Jesus’ friends? “went out to lay hold on him; for they said, He is beside himself.” The expression rendered in the English Bible, “his friends,” is really incapable of translation; it means “those who came from his home,” “his people,” “those who were connected with him.” Now ten verses further on, in Mk. iii.31, it is said: “Then came his mother and his brethren and standing without sent to him, calling him.” If the former passage is interpreted by the latter, then the persons who, according to verse 21, thought that He was beside himself® turn out to be His mother and His brothers. But how could His mother have thought that

. 1 Joseph passes out of view, and presumably had died before the beginning of the public ministry.

He was beside Himself if she knew that He had come into the world by a stupendous miracle? Thus this passage, it is said, shows clearly that Mary was unaware of the virgin birth; and that fact shows, of course, that the virgin birth had never taken place.*

Few arguments against the virgin birth of Christ have been more persistently used than this. And yet upon any careful examination the argument is seen to be extraordinarily weak. Almost every step in it is doubtful. In the first place, it is doubtful who are meant by “his people” or “his friends” in Mk. iii21. The expression is of a rather general character; that it designates only those who lived under the same roof with Jesus is by no means clear. In the second place, it is very doubtful whether verse 21 is to be interpreted by verse 31—that is, whether “His mother and His brethren,” who sought Him according to verse 31, are represented as being the same as the persons who, according to verse 21, supposed that He was beside Himself. A passage of considerable length has intervened between the two verses, a passage in which is discussed the attitude of a class of persons quite distinct both from. those who are mentioned in verse 21 and from those who are mentioned in verse 31. What indication is there that after turning aside to discuss the attitude of the scribes who had come down from Jerusalem,® the author intends to return in verse 31 to exactly the point at which he had left off in verse 21? There is really no clear indication to this effect at all.

Indeed, we might almost argue that there is an indication to the contrary; we might almost argue that if tne author had been intending to return to the point at which he had left off he would have had to express himself differently, that he would have had ‘> indicate in some way that Jesus’ mother and brethren, introduced into the narrative as though for the first time in verse 31, are the same persons as “His people” or “His friends” mentioned in verse 21. If the same persons are meant, why is such different terminology used? Of course the terminology in verse 31 is fixed by the utterance of Jesus that follows; but why could that same terminology not have been used in verse 21? Perhaps it may be said that the terminology in each case was fixed in the tradition at a time when the incidents were narrated separately, and that when the incidents were combined in the Gospel the original terminology was allowed to remain. That suggestion is possible enough. But what right have we, then, to interpret one incident by the other? Is there any evidence whatever that the Evangelist meant to identify the persons mentioned in one

1924, p. 114, with the account of recent discussion given in footnote 7 5 Mk. iii.22-30.

incident with the persons mentioned (with very different terminology) in the other? We do not think that any such evidence can be found.

Even, therefore, if the persons referred to in verse 21 are members of the household in which Jesus had lived, and not merely persons who were connected with Him in some broader sense, it is still not clear that verse 31 mentions just those and only those particular members of the household who were designated in that former verse. The persons who, according to verse 21, thought that Jesus was beside Himself may therefore have been His brothers without any inclusion of His mother.

It should be observed that in verses 31-35 there is not the slightest indication of any unsympathetic attitude on the part of Jesus’ mother toward Him or of any unsympathetic attitude on His part toward her. His mother and His brethren are represented as seeking Him, but that this was done in a hostile way is certainly not said. And Jesus’ utterance, “Behold my mother and my brethren,” is seriously misinterpreted if it is regarded as derogatory to His relationship with the family circle in which He had lived. By placing the tie that united Him with the disciples on the same plane as that which united Him with His brethren and sisters and mother, our Lord was not debasing the latter relationship, but was gloriously exalting the former.

Finally, suppose it should even be admitted for the sake of the argument (as in point of fact we do not admit at all) that Mary was present with those who said that He was beside Himself, would that fact exclude knowledge on her part of the miracle of the virgin birth? We are very doubtful whether it would. It must be remembered that Mary’s faith had suffered severe trials; Jesus had not lived at all the life that might have been expected of one who had been conceived by the Holy Ghost and was destined to occupy the throne of David for ever. Long quiet years had passed without the expected burst of glory; and now was begun a kind of public ministry that seemed to involve naught but opposition and suffering. Who can wonder if Mary was troubled by what she saw? Her perplexity would be the greater just because of her knowledge of the miracle of Jesus’ birth. How great was the contrast between what she had expected in those first glorious days and what the years had actually brought forth! It is indeed unlikely that she would actually lose faith; it is unlikely that she would actually agree with those who said of her son that He was beside Himself. But that she might have stood quietly with them when they sought to halt Jesus in what they considered to be a mad career is not altogether beyond the bounds of possibility. No-doubt her thoughts, because of her knowledge of what they did not know, were widely different from theirs; but she, too, because of her perplexity, might hope that Jesus would be led into a different career. We must remember that despite the stupendous destiny of her son and the miracle of His birth, Mary had actually been in a position of authority over Him during the long years when, according to Lk. ii51, He had been subject to His earthly parents. Was it God’s will that all guidance on her part was now to cease? Perhaps the thing may not have been quite so clear to her as some modern scholars think that it should have been.

What we have just been saying, however, has been said merely for the sake of the argument. Even if Mary was in some sort associated, no doubt silently, with those who said that Jesus was beside Himself, that would not exclude knowledge, on her part, of the miracle of His birth. But as a matter of fact there is no evidence that she was associated with them at all. It is only by the most adventurous kind of reasoning, therefore, that the third chapter of Mark has been made to furnish an argument against the virgin birth of Christ. Rightly interpreted, the passage is quite consistent with the historicity of the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke.:

A similar remark might be made about all the other indications which the Gospels afford regarding the attitude of Jesus’ contemporaries. John i.31, it is true, where John the Baptist is represented as saying with respect to Jesus: “And I knew him not: but that he should be made manifest to Israel, therefore am I come baptizing with water,” has often been thought inconsistent with the first chapter of Luke. How could John the Baptist have failed to know Jesus if he was actually a relative of His, as he is said to have been in Lk. i, and if the two children were so closely linked together by a series of wonderful events? But the objection is by no means insuperable. Zacharias and Elisabeth are expressly declared in Lk. i.7 to have been old at the time when John was born; it is not impossible that they died before their child came to years of discretion. Some thirty years had passed before Jesus came to the baptism; it is not necessary to suppose that John and Jesus had ever come into contact during that period. Moreover, it is not clear whether the verb “knew” in the sentence, “I knew him not,” in John i.31 is used of ordinary acquaintanceship. It may possibly be used of a profound understanding which might have been lacking even though John was acquainted personally with Jesus, and perhaps even though he knew Him to be the promised Messiah. The passage may possibly intend only to contrast John’s lack of understanding of the full meaning of his own baptizing work with the true purpose of that work as it existed in the mind of God. At any rate, the verse will certainly not bear the weight that has been hung upon it. It is perfectly capable of being understood in a way that involves no contradiction with the relation between John and Jesus as it is set forth in the first chapter of Luke.

Still more clearly must a similar conclusion be reached with regard to John’s question, “Art thou he that should come, or look we for another?”, in Mt. xi.3; Lk: vii.rg. It may seem surprising that John should have doubted the Messianic mission of Jesus if there had occurred in his own family the event narrated in Lk. i.39-56. But the difficulty is diminished by considerations similar to those that we have just adduced. How much of those wonderful events would have become known to John even if they had happened in the manner that is set forth in the first chapter of Luke? We cannot definitely say. At any rate, the argument from John’s perplexed question militates against the account of the baptism of Jesus in Mt. iii.17 and John i.32-34, as much as it does against the infancy narrative. If John the Baptist really saw the heavens opened at the baptism of Jesus, and heard the voice from heaven, his doubting question in Mt. xi.3; Lk. vii.rg might at first sight seem to be impossible. But a little reflection serves to diminish this objection. Just because John’s expectations about Jesus were set so high (not only by what he may have learned regarding what is recorded in the first chapter of Luke, but also by the event at the baptism), he was perplexed at the strange and apparently indecisive character of Jesus’ ministry. Who can say that in his perplexity he may not have sought light by the question recorded in Matthew and Luke?

One other point, however, deserves to be mentioned before we leave the present phase of our subject. It has perhaps not received from opponents of the virgin birth quite the amount of attention that it deserves relatively to their other arguments. The point to which we refer concerns the attitude of the people of Nazareth, and, reflecting their attitude, the attitude of Jesus’ opponents generally, toward the legitimacy of His birth. That ‘attitude, so far as we can judge, was one of complete acquiescence in the view that Jesus was the son of Joseph and Mary. We have already considered this acquiescence so far as any possible knowledge of the story of the virgin birth is concerned; it would have been quite unnatural for the contemporaries of Jesus to have been told the story of the virgin birth even if that story was true; hence their ignorance of the story does not show at all that it was false. But here we are considering the matter from a slightly different angle. Suppose the events concerning the birth of Jesus were as they are recorded in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. Our present point is not that those events might have given rise to a general belief in the virgin birth, but on the contrary that they might have given rise to slander. If the conception in Mary’s womb really took place three months before her marriage with Joseph, then the birth, from the point of view of ordinary observers, was premature; and if the birth was premature, would not slander have resulted; and if slander had resulted, would it not have been revived during the public ministry by the bitter enemies of Jesus; and if it had been revived by the enemies of Jesus, would it not have been recorded in the Gospels as were other attacks? But since as a matter of fact there is no hint in the Gospels that any slander was raised against the birth of Jesus, and since, on the contrary, the objection of unbelievers was merely to the obscurity of His birth as a child of the carpenter, Joseph, must we not suppose that all even apparent basis of such slander was absent, and therefore that the virgin birth of Jesus as narrated in Lk. iii and Mt. i-ii, which must have given rise to slander, is unhistorical? In other words, does not the same consideration, absence of slander, which excludes a really illegitimate birth of Jesus also exclude an apparently illegitimate birth such as the birth of Jesus would have been if the story in the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke were true?

These considerations are not without their importance. But they are im- | portant not because they really cast discredit upon the story of the virgin birth, but rather because they give us a salutary sense of the limitations of our knowledge. Are we to suppose, on the basis of the first chapter of Luke, that the conception in Mary’s womb took place before her journey to Elisabeth? The answer even to that question is perhaps not entirely certain. There are indeed several considerations which make an affirmative answer very probable. It seems more natural in itself, in view of the whole character of the annunciation, to suppose that the conception took place immediately after the annunciation was given; the greeting of Elisabeth to Mary in Lk. i.42-45 looks rather as though the child were already in Mary’s womb as her own child was in her womb; above all, the difficulties of Joseph are perhaps best explained if Mary’s pregnancy had lasted for some time before the marriage took place. The first two of these considerations would be satisfied if we should suppose the marriage to have occurred before and not after Mary’s visit to Elisabeth. In that case, the conception might have taken place immediately after the annunciation and prior to Elisabeth’s greeting, and yet not have caused an apparently premature birth. But the last of the three considerations does seem to make an apparently premature birth highly probable. The perplexity which Joseph experienced because of Mary’s condition does seem to indicate that her pregnancy had continued some time before the marriage took place.

Even so, however, it is not clear that a birth only six months after the marriage must necessarily have given rise to slander. It must be remembered that according to the narrative in Luke the birth occurred at a place remote from Nazareth, where the mother would not be under the gaze of prying eyes. How long a time was occupied by the journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem we do not know. It may, furthermore, have been some years after the birth before the family returned to Nazareth. Would the (apparently) premature time of the birth then be known? But what we need to remember above all is that Joseph acknowledged Jesus as his son. There is to be found the real barrier against slander. If Joseph was really a “just” man, as he is said to have been in Mt. i.tg, his character would be known and his acknowledgment of the child would prevent all likelihood of slander. In the early period, there would be no particular reason for occasion of slander to be sought; for Joseph and Mary had then, for all we know, the good will of the inhabitants of Nazareth. And in the later period, after thirty years’ acceptance of the birth of Jesus as a child of Joseph and Mary, it would be too late for the basis of slander to be found.

We have indeed insisted, in another connection, that Joseph would not gratuitously have exposed Mary to even the possibility of slander by a premature union with his wife. But it is one thing to say that such a possibility of slander would naturally be avoided, so far as it could be avoided by seemly conduct on the part of Joseph and Mary, and quite another thing to say that when possibility of slander arose by a mysterious act of God, the possibility must necessarily have been converted into actuality. Thus the most that can be admitted is that the virgin birth of Christ, if it was really a fact, involved the risk of slander. To say that it involved the certainty of slander is going far beyond the truth. But if it did not involve the certainty of slander, and still more clearly if it did not involve even the probability of slander, then the absence of slander does not at all prove that the virgin birth was not a fact.

We may hold, then, without fear of successful contradiction, that the attitude of Jesus’ contemporaries during the period of the public ministry, as that attitude is recorded in the Gospels, is congruous with the truth of the birth narratives. But how is it with the attitude of the authors themselves? Do the authors of the Gospels confirm or do they contradict the wonderful incidents that are recorded in the first two chapters of Matthew and Luke? In particular, do they confirm or contradict those assertions which place the birth at Bethlehem and attribute the conception in Mary’s womb to the Holy Ghost?

In the case of the First and Third Gospels this question was already answered when we proved that the first two chapters of each of those Gospels really belonged to the original form of the book. If the authors really included Mt. i-ii, Lk. i-ii in their books, then of course they held the contents of these chapters to be true. The most that might still be alleged is that in the body of their works they have carelessly retained elements found in their sources, which with regard to the birth in Bethlehem and the supernatural conception were hostile to the view that the final authors themselves held. But this allegation cannot be substantiated. It is true that Matthew and Luke do not refer to the virgin birth from the third chapter to the end of their books (except in the words, “as was supposed”, in connection with the genealogy in Lk. iii.23). But this fact is altogether without significance. Why should they mention again and again a thing that had already been narrated plainly enough at the proper place? And when they leave without correction the utterance of the inhabitants of Nazareth, “Is not this the son of Joseph?”, or, “Is not this the carpenter’s son?”, their doing so merely shows the faithfulness with which they have reported the conditions that prevailed during the public ministry of Jesus; it does not at all show any ignorance, on their own part or on the part of their sources, of the fact of the virgin birth.

So much may be said with regard to Matthew and Luke. But how is it with regard to Mark and John?

Unlike the other two Synoptic Gospels, the Gospel according to Mark contains no account of the virgin birth of our Lord. Great capital has been made out of that fact by many modern scholars. But seldom has the argument from silence been more incautiously used. Certainly the Gospel according to Mark contains no account of the virgin birth; but then the fact is that it contains no account of the birth of Jesus at all, and for it to have contained such an account would have been to run counter to the purpose and plan of the book. This Gospel was not intended to provide intimate details about Jesus, but it was intended rather to produce an overpowering impression by the rehearsal of incidents which for the most part were matters of public observation. Typical of the contents of the book is the scene in the synagogue at Capernaum which is depicted with such vividness in the first chapter. The readers of the Second Gospel are not asked to sit quietly at the feet of Jesus and listen to extended discourses from Him, as in the Gospel according to Matthew, nor are they asked, for the most part, to hear things which in the nature of the case could be attested only by one or two persons; but they are asked to share the astonishment of those who first listened to the strange new teaching in the synagogue and beheld the works of power. We do not mean that this choice of material is carried out in any pedantically exclusive way. But still, when the Gospel is taken as a whole, Jesus does appear here primarily as the mighty One whose authoritative words and mighty deeds could make their impression upon all who were willing to hear and see. In such a Gospel the intimate story of the birth and childhood of our Lord certainly had no necessary place.

That does not mean that the author of the Second Gospel regarded the virgin birth as less important than the events of the public ministry. The most important thing that needs to be told is not always the first thing; and Mark seems to be concerned especially with the first things: he desires in this book to implant in the minds of his readers a first impression of the majesty of Jesus’ person, in order that then they may proceed to more intimate and no doubt equally important teaching.

Another reason also, in addition to the one that has just been set forth, has apparently determined the choice of material in the Second Gospel, and particularly the omission of the virgin birth. We refer to the desire of this author to set forth only or chiefly those things to which his informant could testify as an eyewitness. According to the information which Papias, in the former part of the second century, received from “the Presbyter” °, the Gospel according to Mark contains the teaching of Peter. It is not unnatural, therefore, that this Gospel should contain almost exclusively those things to which Peter could testify on the basis of personal observation. To those things, of course, the events connected with the birth and infancy of Jesus did not belong.

At one point the Gospel according to Mark has often been thought actually to show knowledge of the virgin birth. At Mk. vi.3, namely, in a connection where Matthew has, “Is not this the carpenter’s son?”, and Luke has, “Is not this the son of Joseph?”, Mark reads merely, “Is not this the carpenter?”. Does the Second Gospel here purposely avoid calling Jesus the son of Joseph? It has often been supposed that he does. Matthew and Luke, it is said, could report the words of the people of Nazareth in a form that made Jesus the son of Joseph, because in their case all fear of misunderstanding was removed by the express narration of the virgin birth which they had placed at the beginning of their Gospels: but Mark had no such safeguard, since it had not been part of his plan to narrate the birth of Jesus; and therefore, in order to avoid the possibility that his readers might suppose Jesus to be really the son of Joseph, and in order also to avoid the awkwardness of correcting in his own name the utterance of the people of Nazareth (a procedure which would be quite contrary to the style of all the Synoptic Gospels), he simply substitutes the words, “Is not this the carpenter?”, for the offending words, “Is not this the son of the carpenter?”.

This view would not necessarily imply any untruthfulness on the part of the author of the Second Gospel. No doubt the words of the people of Nazareth may have been put by the people themselves in.a number of different forms; it is altogether natural that they would say, “Is not this the carpenter?”, as well as, “Is not this the son of the carpenter?”; and quite possibly Peter, Mark’s informant, may have heard them put the question in both forms. It would be quite allowable, therefore, for the author of the Gospel to choose for reporting in his account that one of the two forms which would not cause misunderstanding in the minds of his readers. But although we have no decisive objection to the view of Mk. vi.3 which has just been discussed—the view that regards as intentional the author’s omission of any reference to Joseph—yet we are not inclined to lay any particular stress upon it. What is really clear, at any rate, is that the whole plan and purpose of the Second Gospel prevented any narration of the birth and infancy of Jesus; the silence of this Gospel about the virgin birth, therefore, does not afford the slightest argument against the truthfulness of the birth narratives in Matthew and Luke.

The Gospel according to John, like the Gospel according to Mark, has usually been held to contain no reference to the virgin birth of Christ. But here again the omission—supposing for the moment that it really exists— is altogether without significance. The real key to the choice of material in | the Fourth Gospel is found in the words, “we beheld his glory,” in John 1.14. It is an altogether unwarranted sublimation of these words to take them in any merely “spiritual” or figurative sense; it is altogether out of accord with the thought of the writer to take them as referring merely to a spiritual apprehension of the Logos on the part of believers generally. On the contrary, the root idea of this Gospel is that “the Word became flesh” and that because He became flesh He could actually be seen and heard and touched by the men who lived with Him upon earth, the original disciples of Jesus to whom the writer himself belonged. There is, indeed, a sense in which Clement of Alexandria was correct when he called this book “the spiritual Gospel”; * but the word “spiritual” must not be understood in any exclusive sense. The idea of the book is not the independence of the spiritual life as over against things that have happened in the world of sense, but, quite the contrary, it is the profound dependence of the spiritual life upon things that happened in the world of sense. There is no book in the New Testament which lays greater stress than this book does upon the plain testimony of the senses. The author claims to be an eyewitness of the incarnate Word, and upon that claim the whole book is based. “The Word became flesh and we beheld his glory”—that utterance is at the very heart of this wonderful Gospel, and the whole meaning of the Gospel is missed when the utterance is explained away.

But if that be so—if the purpose of the book was to record the direct personal testimony of the author regarding what was said and done by the incarnate Word—then it would have been quite out of place for the author to have included an account of the birth and infancy of the Lord. Of these events the author was not an eyewitness, and therefore a narration of these events did not belong in the book.

We are not forgetting the fact that the Fourth Gospel does include an account of some happenings at which the author himself was not present. One can think in this connection, for example, of the conversations of Jesus with Nicodemus and with the woman at the well. But it was one thing for the author to include such events—events that fell within at least the general purview of his own observations and that had repercussions which he himself immediately observed—and quite a different thing for him to include a whole complex of facts which was quite outside that period of Jesus’ life with which his testimony could deal. Despite all cautions and exceptions, therefore, we are brought back ever anew to our initial observation. The Fourth Gospel contains not everything that could be said about Jesus, but rather the testimony of an eyewitness to the things that he had seen and heard. He had had the inestimable privilege of seeing with his eyes and hearing with his ears the glory of the Word made flesh. That privilege he desires, by his testimony, to make available for others, in order that they too, like him, may believe. In such a book there was no place whatever for a narration of events that took place long before the author came into contact with Him whose visible glory he desires to set forth. Quite naturally the narrative of the book begins not with an account of the birth and infancy of Jesus, but with an account of the way in which the author ceased to follow John the Baptist and became, instead, an eyewitness of the incarnate Word.

The book does begin, it is true, with a prologue—a prologue which deals, not, indeed, in detail, but in summary fashion, with things that formed the necessary presupposition of that incarnate life of the eternal Son which the body of the book was to set forth. Is there any reference in this prologue to the peculiar manner in which the only begotten Son of God came into the world; is there any reference in the prologue, in other words, to the virgin birth of our Lord?

Such a reference is found by some modern scholars of widely differing types of opinion ® in John i.13. In that verse the great mass of our witnesses to the text (including all the Greek manuscripts) read, “who [that is, those who have received the Logos] were begotten not of bloods, nor of the will von Harnack (Neue Untersuchungen zur Apostelgeschichte, 1911, p. 103; English translation, The Date of the Acts and of the Synoptic Gospels, 1911, p. 148).

of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.”® But in accordance with the express testimony of Tertullian there was at least as early as the second century another reading which had the singular instead of the plural—that is, not “who were begotten” or “they were begotten,” but “who was begotten” or “he was begotten.” This reading, which is favored by Tertullian himself and may be traced also in other early patristic references, would involve nothing less than an express assertion of the virgin birth of Christ. When applied to believers (as is done in the ordinary reading) the expressions of course refer to the spiritual new birth; but when applied to Christ they could not refer to any such thing, since of course this author did not suppose Christ to have experienced a new birth, which was necessary for other men only because of sin. Conceivably, indeed, the expressions might refer to an eternal, pre-incarnation begetting of the Son of God; but such an interpretation would be very unnatural. Why should an eternal begetting of the Son be set forth with such express and insistent exclusion of any human factor—“not of bloods, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God”? It remains. far more likely, indeed practically certain, that if this reading is correct the author is intending to deny any physical human paternity in the case of Jesus and to assert the virgin birth in the clearest possible way.

A plausible argument may perhaps be constructed in favor of this reading on the basis of intrinsic probability. The plural reading, “who were begotten...,” it is said, is unnatural because it involves a disturbing digression; it diverts attention from the presentation of the person of Christ, which forms the real subject of the prologue, to an elaborate distinction between the ordinary, physical birth of men and the new birth by which they become in a high sense children of God. What possible motive could the author have had for thus insisting just in this strange place upon such a distinction, which, moreover, is in itself so obvious as not to need any such elaborate exposition? If, however—so the argument runs—the singular is read instead of the plural, if the expressions are applied not to believers but to Christ, then all is plain. The subject in this verse would be the same as the subject of the whole prologue—namely, the Logos who appears in verse 1.

It cannot be said that this argument is altogether convincing. In the first place, the thought of verse 13, if the ordinary reading is correct, finds a rather close parallel in the answer of Jesus to Nicodemus’ question in John iii.4. When Nicodemus asks: “How can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter the second time into his mother’s womb and be born?”, and when Jesus in the course of His answer says: “That which is born of the

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flesh is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit is spirit,” we have something of the same explicit contrast between the natural, physical birth of all men and the spiritual new birth of believers which appears in our passage if the ordinary reading is adopted. That ordinary reading, therefore, is not altogether out of analogy with what appears elsewhere in the same book. It is also perhaps not altogether unnatural in its present context. In John i.13 the two spheres— the heavenly and the earthly—are contrasted; and this leads the author to speak in verse 14a of the descent of the Logos from the heavenly to the earthly. Verse 14 describes, then, the connection formed between the two spheres, by means of which the new birth described in verse 13 is made possible.*° The other reading, moreover, would be by no means devoid of difficulty. It would involve a certain anticipation of the utterance in the next verse, “The Word became flesh,” which does not seem to be altogether natural. It is.true, the event of verse 14 has already, according to the most probable interpretation, been referred to in verse 11 and possibly even in the preceding verses. But verse 13, if the singular reading is right, would describe the event in detail, in a way which seems rather out of place before the summary statement in verse 14 has been made. Intrinsic probability, therefore, does not tell in any clear way against the ordinary text or in favor of the other reading.

As for transcriptional probability, one may of course hold that Tertullian was right when he accused the Gnostics of inventing the plural reading in the interests of their doctrine of a special class of “spiritual” persons.’ But, as has been pointed out with some force, the plural reading does not suit the | Gnostic teaching very perfectly; for that reading would seem to imply that all believers are “spiritual” persons, whereas the Gnostics reserved that term for a special class as distinguished from ordinary Christians. It remains perfectly possible, moreover, that the reading of the singular was introduced by some scribe either in order to remove all possible support from the Gnostic doctrine of a class of spiritual persons or else simply in order to provide a testimony to the virgin birth of Christ. There would be a certain tendency on the part of scribes to apply such language as is used in John i.13 to Christ rather than merely to believers: the language would seem to a scribe to suit Him who was begotten without human agency by the power of the Holy Spirit; and so, perhaps in perfect good faith and without any consciousness of falsification, the singular instead of the plural may have been allowed to slip in.

10 See “The New Testament Account of the Birth of Jesus,” first article, in Princeton Theo-

If the plural is to be read, we should probably not see in the verse any reference to the virgin birth of Christ. Such a reference was indeed found in it by Zahn (before he came to his present view that the singular is to be read) and also by Griitzmacher.’* John meant to say in John i.13 f., Zahn argued, that what is true of the new birth of the children of God is true of the physical birth of Christ. But such an interpretation perhaps attributes to the Evangelist a confusion between the spiritual and the physical spheres, or rather an elaborate parallel between them, which, if intended, would probably have had to be more clearly marked.

We are not inclined, therefore, to lay any great stress upon John i.13 as a testimony to the virgin birth of Christ.“* But what we do affirm with some insistence is that the view of the Fourth Gospel with regard to the person of Christ and with regard to His entrance into the world is profoundly congruous with the story of the virgin birth and profoundly incongruous with the view that Jesus was in a physical sense the son of Joseph. Certainly there is not the slightest reason to suppose that this author rejected the representation which had already appeared in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. His silence is altogether without significance as a testimony against the virgin birth; for the narration in detail of the manner in which the Son of God entered into the world was quite outside the scope of his book.

One passage in the Fourth Gospel has, it is true, often been used as a testimony, not indeed against the virgin birth, but against the birth in Bethlehem. The passage to which we refer is found in John vii.41 f., where a certain group in the Jerusalem crowd is represented as saying: “Does the Messiah come out of Galilee? Has not the Scripture said that the Messiah comes of the seed of David and from the village where David was?” What we are concerned with here is not the attitude which this passage attributes to Jesus’ contemporaries. It is not surprising that even if Jesus had been born at Bethlehem, the Jerusalem crowd, or a certain group in it, should have designated Him as having come from Galilee. After all, He had lived for many years at Nazareth; His birth in Bethlehem, if it was a fact, was not generally known, and could not easily be proved. If it had been proved, one might still have

%8On the whole question of John i.13 in its relation to the virgin birth, see especially Geerhardus Vos (The Self-Disclosure of Jesus, 1926, pp. 210-213), who thinks that the virgin birth is here referred to whether the plural or the singular reading is correct. We are not intending to reject that view in any confident way, but are merely pointing out certain objections that may be urged against it.

supposed it strange that the Messiah should have deserted His ancestral home and lived for long years in an obscure Galilean village. But what we are concerned with here is the attitude of the Evangelist. If he had accepted the story of the birth of Christ in Bethlehem, would he have been obliged to correct the false opinion of the Jerusalem group and attest the true fact at this point in his narrative?

This question has often been answered in the affirmative. But to answer it so really involves a serious misunderstanding of the whole method and purpose of this Evangelist. It is not in accordance with the method of this writer to correct in his own name false views expressed in the narrative by the opponents of Christ. There was no need, moreover, for him to mention the birth in Bethlehem; for he was writing in supplement to the Synoptic Gospels and was presupposing their narrative as known. At the time when the Fourth Gospel was written, the birth of Christ in Bethlehem was a matter of course; and there was no reason for the author of this Gospel to inform his readezs of what they already knew.

In the Book of Acts, the few apologetic or missionary speeches of Peter and Paul that are inserted in the narrative contain no reference to the virgin birth. But that omission is of course quite without significance. Even if the virgin birth was a fact, it would be the most unnatural thing in the world for it to be referred to before hostile or uninstructed audiences; and the author of the book did not at all need to supplement these speeches by remarks of his own, especially since he had already narrated the virgin birth plainly at the beginning of his double work.

But how is it with Paul? Two passages in the Epistles have sometimes been supposed to have some special bearing upon his attitude to the virgin birth of Christ. These passages are Gal. iv.4 f. and Rom. i.3 f.

In Gal. iv.4 f. Paul says: “But when the fullness of time came, God sent forth his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order that he might redeem those who were under the law, in order that we might receive the adoption of sons.” This passage has sometimes been held to show that Paul did not believe in the virgin birth, and sometimes also has been held to show that he did do so. As a matter of fact, both opinions are probably wrong; the passage does not enable us to draw any conclusion with regard to Paul’s belief in the matter one way or the other.

If Paul had accepted the virgin birth, would he have been obliged in this passage to say, “born of a virgin,” or the like, instead of “born of a woman”? We do not think so at all. On the contrary, for him to use such an expression would have been to obscure the point of the passage. What the Apostle is speaking of here is the humiliation of Christ—the likeness to us men which He assumed for our redemption. Part of that likeness to us was His human birth. But the words, “born of a virgin,’ would have emphasized not the similarity of Christ’s birth to ours, but, on the contrary, the difference between His birth and ours. Such a phrase, therefore, would have run directly counter to the whole thought that the Apostle here has in mind. Certainly the expression which is actually used does not at all contradict the story of the birth of Jesus in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. It should never be forgotten that according to the New Testament representation, although the conception was supernatural, the birth itself was natural. Paul had a full right, therefore, even though he accepted the virgin birth as it is narrated for us in the early chapters of Matthew and Luke, to say that Christ was “born of a woman.”

On the other hand, although we can find no evidence in this verse against a belief on Paul’s part in the virgin birth of Christ, we can also find no direct evidence in favor of it. If Paul had not believed in the virgin birth, would he - have been obliged in this passage to mention the human father as well as, or instead of, the human mother? We are not inclined to think so. All that can be said is that as a matter of fact neither in this passage nor anywhere else in the Pauline Epistles does Paul mention the human father of Jesus. This silence about the human father may or may not be significant. But we are prepared to assert that it is just as likely to be significant as is the silence about the virgin birth. We are certainly not endeavoring on our part to use the argument from silence; but what we are prepared to say is that if it is to be used at all, it should not be used merely on one side.

The other Pauline passage which is often mentioned in the same connection is Rom. i.3 f., which reads as follows: “... concerning his Son, who was born of the seed of David according to the flesh, who was declared to be the Son of God in power according to the Spirit of holiness by the resurrection of the dead....” In this passage, it is argued, Paul connects the higher nature of Jesus with the resurrection, not with the birth, as he would have been obliged to do if he had believed in the supernatural conception. But such reasoning is very vulnerable indeed. Let us suppose for a moment, just for the sake of the argument, that Paul accepted exactly the same view of the birth of Jesus as that which appears in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. What is there in Rom. i.3 f. that is inconsistent with such 4 view? We really cannot see that there is anything at all. It still remains true on the basis of Mt. i-ii, Lk. i-ii that Jesus was “born of the seed of David according to the flesh”; the Davidic descent appears in those infancy narratives as well as in Paul, and we have already pointed out that it is not contradictory to the virgin birth which also appears in the same narratives. Moreover, it is particularly clear just in Paul, in accordance with his use of the word “flesh,” that when he says “according to the flesh” he may well be referring to something other than unbroken physical continuity. The question, therefore, whether Mary as well as Joseph was a descendant of David does not need to be answered one way or the other by one who desires to defend both the Davidic descent (in the Pauline, and generally New Testament, sense) and the virgin birth. Moreover, if it remains true on the basis of Lk. i-ii, Mt. i-ii that Jesus was born of the seed of David according to the flesh, it also remains true that He was “declared to be the Son of God in power by the resurrection of the dead.” Jesus was indeed Son of God, according to Lk. i.35, prior to the resurrection and indeed from the very beginning of His earthly life, to say nothing of a life prior to His entrance into the world. But did Paul hold any other view? Does he mean to set forth any other view in this passage? Most emphatically he does not. Unquestionably Paul believed that Jesus was Son of God during His earthly life. What He became at the resurrection was Son of God in power. It does not make much difference whether we put the emphasis thus upon the words “in power” or upon the word which may be translated “declared to be” or “established as being.”** Whether the meaning of the passage is “established as being Son of God in power” (as distinguished from the sonship that He had had in His state of humiliation before the resurrection), or “declared to be Son of God,” “vindicated as being Son of God” (as distinguished from a sonship that was concealed from men by the conditions of His earthly life), in either case there is not the slightest disharmony between this passage and the story of the virgin birth. The contrary view is based upon the same incorrect, exclusive way of regarding the activity of the Holy Spirit that we noticed in the case of a certain modern way of treating the baptism of Jesus.!> Why should it have seemed incredible to Paul, and why should it seem incredible to us, that the Holy Spirit should have been operative in connection with our Lord not in one way, but in many ways? Why should Paul not have believed that the Spirit was active both in the conception in ‘ Mary’s womb and also in the mighty act of the resurrection? These questions are really unanswerable. There is not the slightest contradiction between the significance of the resurrection as it is set forth in this passage and the account of the virgin birth that is given in the birth narratives of Matthew and Luke.

These individual passages in the Pauline Epistles cannot rightly be appealed to either for or against the view that Paul believed in the virgin birth. But how is it with the general fact of Paul’s silence? If Paul had accepted the virgin birth, would he have been obliged to mention it in his Epistles?

We do not think that this is the case. It must always be remembered that in the Epistles Paul mentions very few events in the life of Jesus on earth. And yet the incidental way in which he does mention some things shows clearly that he knew many other things of which he finds no occasion to speak. The institution of the Lord’s Supper, for example, would never have been narrated except for the appearance of certain abuses at Corinth; and if it had not been narrated, one may well shudder at the inferences which would have been drawn from Paul’s silence. A similar remark may be made about the account which Paul gives in I Cor. xv.3 ff. of the appearances of the risen Christ. If it had not been for that one passage, which was written only because of the emergence of certain errors in the church that is addressed, modern scholars would certainly have drawn from Paul’s consciousness of independence as it is set forth in the first chapter of the Epistle to the Galatians the ~ inference that the resurrection of Christ was established in Paul’s teaching on the basis of the Apostle’s own testimony alone; and yet, as it is, the appeal to the testimony of Peter and others is seen to have been part of the “first things” that Paul gave to his churches. These examples should certainly make us extremely cautious about applying the argument from silence to our treatment of Paul’s attitude toward the virgin birth. If things so very important to the Apostle as the institution of the Lord’s Supper and the appearances of the risen Christ appear in the whole extent of the Epistles only once each— because of what from the human point of view was the mere chance of the emergence of certain errors—how can we draw from the non-appearance of other things the inference that Paul knew nothing about them? It does not follow at all, therefore, that because Paul says nothing about the virgin birth in his Epistles he knew nothing about it.

What is clear, at any rate, is that, although the virgin birth is not directly mentioned in the Epistles, it is profoundly congruous with Paul’s teaching about Christ. Paul clearly regarded Jesus Christ as no mere product of what had gone before Him, but as an entirely new beginning in humanity, the second Adam, the Founder of a new race. Could such a Person have been derived by ordinary generation from the men who had existed before Him upon the earth; could He, in the ordinary sense, have had a human father? One should of course be cautious about saying what might or might not have been. And yet to think of the Christ of the Pauline Epistles as the son of Joseph and Mary involves an incongruity from which the mind naturally shrinks. The virgin birth is not explicitly mentioned in the Epistles, but it does seem to be implied in the profougdest way in the entire view which Paul holds of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Conceivably, indeed, we might derive from this consideration an argument not for but against Paul’s knowledge of the virgin birth. If, it might be said Paul’s doctrine is so perfectly in accord with the virgin birth, why does he not mention a thing which fits in so well with his teaching; why does he not make use of so welcome a support for his views?

This reasoning ignores one of the outstanding facts about the Paulin- Epistles—the fact, namely, that Paul does not argue in the Epistles about his conception of the person of Christ. About other things there was debate, but, at least during the period of the earlier Epistles, there was no debate whatever about this; apparently Paul assumes that his own stupendous view of Jesus as a supernatural Person, come voluntarily into the world for our redemption, now risen from the grave and living in glory, was the view of everyone in the Church. Apparently even the Judaizers, the bitter opponents of Paul, raised no objection to the Apostle’s teaching on this point. This extraordinary unanimity with regard to the person of Christ, this extraordinary absence of any struggle between the lofty Pauline view of Christ and any lower, merely human conception, may be puzzling to modern naturalistic historians—indeed it constitutes the great central problem that faces any naturalistic reconstruction of primitive Christianity—but however puzzling it may be, it must certainly be recognized as a fact. It is certainly true that Paul does not feel called upon to defend in his Epistles that view of Christ which is the basis of all his thinking and all his life. But if so, why should he have been obliged to mention the virgin birth? He might have mentioned it if he had been living in the time of Irenzus, when it was subject to attack. He may actually have mentioned it when he was dealing with opponents of Christianity. But the extant Epistles, it should never be forgotten, were addressed not to opponents of Christianity, but to professing Christians; and in them are contained those things about which professing Christians needed to be set right. Thus the absence of the virgin birth from the Epistles, though it might conceivably mean that Paul did not believe in the virgin birth, may also mean that the fact was so universally accepted as to require no defence.

From the foregoing review of the evidence, it appears that the virgin birth was not known during the earthly life of Jesus and even after the resurrection probably did not form a part of the missionary preaching of the earliest apostolic Church. But these observations are not inconsistent with acceptance of the virgin birth as a fact. Let us suppose for a moment, for the sake of the argument, that Jesus was really born without a human father as He is said to have been born in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke. On that supposition, what would the course of development naturally be? According to the infancy narratives there were only two persons who at first certainly knew of the virgin birth, namely, Joseph and Mary, nor is there any definite record that they confided in anyone else. That Mary confided in Elisabeth is indeed probable; but the very reason why she would naturally confide in Elisabeth was that she could not confide in others. The report of the shepherds and of Anna need not have reached a very wide circle, and, like the visit of the magi (in which case there were also special reasons for silence), took place in Judea, far from Nazareth, the subsequent home of the family, and perhaps several years before their return. It has been further suggested by Ramsay that fear of Herod Antipas may have been a special reason for silence after their return.® In any case, there is no evidence whatever that the shepherds or the magi or Simeon or Anna knew of the virgin birth. Probably Joseph died before Jesus reached maturity, since he does not appear in the. record of the public ministry; and Elisabeth is expressly said to have been old at the time of Mary’s momentous visit in the Judzan home.’? Not improbably, therefore, Mary was left as the sole keeper of the secret of Jesus’ birth.

This “secret,” it is true, is often regarded as an apologetic expedient; why should Mary not have told of the virgin birth if it had been a fact? But a little exercise of the historical imagination will show how inconclusive this reasoning is. One great fault of the modern treatment of the subject is that not enough sympathetic attention has been given to the personal equation. Would it have been in accord with the character of Mary, as it is depicted in such lifelike colors in the infancy narrative of Luke (the truth of which we are assuming just now for the sake of the argument), that after she had undergone experiences of the most mysterious kind and had submitted to a command which ran counter to every instinct of her soul, she should proceed to engage in idle gossip about the matter, thereby subjecting herself and her holy child to the basest slander? Some women might have acted so, but hardly the one who “kept all these sayings, pondering them in her heart.” There is every reason to suppose, on the contrary, that she would keep the secret even from her younger sons—or rather, perhaps, most carefully of all from them. So the years went by; and He who was to rule over the house of Jacob forever continued to labor at a carpenter’s bench until the time of His majority had come and gone. Must not the miraculous events of thirty years ago have come to be to Mary like a wonderful dream? We will not say, indeed, that her faith ever failed; but certainly it suffered trial. And then when her son did come before the nation, how different was His coming from that which she had pictured! How strange and perplexing were the ways of God! From every point of view, there was reason that her silence should not be broken. Perplexity leads some persons to ask questions of every passer-by, but others keep their bewilderment locked in their own souls. To this latter type belonged Mary the mother of the Lord. As in the early days, she kept all these things and pondered them in her heart. But finally she learned, like the disciples, the true nature of Jesus’ work. When Pentecost had come and gone, and the company of the disciples were praying together, comforted by the Spirit whom Jesus had sent, she must have continued to ponder over all these things, but now in a very different way. Now at last had come the time for her to speak; now the claims of Jesus had been vindicated; now she would be believed. So, within the little circle of believing and sympathetic women or near friends, she may have been led to breathe things too sacred and mysterious to be spoken of to mortal ears before. These things, of course, were not repeated at once to the official governors of the Church, like the progress of daily collections. Still less were they included in missionary sermons, where the great effort was to adduce facts which could be attested directly by all, and where the humble woman’s mystery would have brought nothing but slander and scorn. But when the story was finally told, there is no evidence that it aroused any opposition at all from those who were already disciples of Christ. And so, possibly supplemented by a record that Joseph had left, the marvellous tale of the mother of the Lord found its way into the Gospel tradition and creeds of the Church, and into the inmost hearts of Christians of all the centuries.1®

18 This hypothesis appears here in essentially the same form as that in which it appeared in the article by the present writer, “The New Testament Account of the Birth of Jesus,” first article, in Princeton Theological Review, iii, 1905, pp. 663 f. See Ramsay, Was Christ Born at Bethlehem?, 1898, pp. 73-91; Sanday, article “ Jesus Christ,” in Hastings, Dictionary of the Bible, ii, 1906, pp. 643 f.; Gore, Dissertations on Subjects Connected with the Incarnation, 1895, p. 13. Somewhat similar considerations are set forth, in a very interesting passage, by Chrysostom (hom. in Maitt., iti, ed. Montfaucon, vii, 1836, pp. 37-39). The virgin birth, Chrysostom points out, was quite unparalleled, and hence the story of it would be naught but an offence to all who had not already come to believe in Jesus. “For a man who had once been persuaded that He [Jesus] is the Son of God had no reason to doubt about this thing either; but anyone who thought that He was a deceiver and in opposition to God—how would he not be offended by this thing all the more...? Forthis reason even the apostles do not tell of this right at the beginning, but discourse much and often concerning the resurrection, since of this there were examples (drodelyuara) in previous times, although not such examples as this; but that He was born of a virgin they do not continually (ob cvvex@s) say.”” So even the mother, Chrysostom continues, did not venture to speak of the virgin birth; and it was not told to the shepherds by the angels.

What we maintain, therefore, is not that the extant attestation of the virgin Birth of Christ is as early and as abundant as the attestation of certain other events, such as the resurrection, but only that it is as early and as abundant as the attestation of this particular event might with any certainty have been expected to be. In the very nature of the case this event could not be attested by many persons; and in the nature of the case the one person who could certainly attest it would have the strongest reason, in the early period, for silence. The limited extent of the attestation, therefore, is not inconsistent with the hypothesis that the virgin birth was a fact.

But at that point an objection may arise. In our effort to explain the silence of Jesus’ contemporaries and of great sections of the New Testament, have we not involved ourselves in an apologetic peril that is far greater than the one which we have endeavored to avoid? We have pointed out that, even if the virgin birth was a fact, the attestation of it would not necessarily be any greater than that which our New Testament contains. But in order to do so have we not been obliged to admit that the attestation of such an event must - in the nature of the case be very small? And does not that mean that, in view of the miraculous character of the event, the attestation of it could never possibly be sufficient to convince a cautious mind?

This objection might possibly be conclusive if the attestation of the virgin birth stood alone. Unquestionably there is an enormous initial presumption against the view that any human being was born without human father; and the direct testimony, being limited, in the very nature of the case, to one person, would hardly be sufficient in order that this initial presumption should be overcome. If the question were simply whether a man about whom otherwise we knew nothing was born without human father, no doubt that question would have to be answered in the negative. But as a matter of fact that is not the question at all. The question is not whether an ordinary man was born without human father, but whether Jesus was so born. And this question is quite different from the other. It is indeed highly improbable that any ordinary man came into this world in the supernatural manner which is set forth in the infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke; but then Jesus was like no other man that ever has lived. So unique a person, it might well be argued, may well have had an unique entrance into this world. Moreover, it is not merely the moral uniqueness of Jesus to which our argument appeals. There are in the life of Jesus as narrated in the Gospels plainly miraculous elements whose attestation is not at all subject to the limitations which we have found in the case of the virgin birth, Particularly is that true with regard to the supreme miracle of the resurrection. A mass of convergent testimony leads, we think, to the conviction that on the third day after the death of Jesus on the cross His tomb became empty by a supernatural act of God. But if the supernatural has been accepted at any one point in connection with Jesus, the presumption has been overcome against accepting it at other points. And in particular the presumption has been overcome against accepting it in connection with the birth. Having once come to the conclusion that Jesus was a supernatural person, that the miraculous element which is so abundant in the Gospel account of Him cannot be explained as due to the myth-making fancy of the early Church, but truly represents a creative activity of God quite distinct from God’s works through nature, we shall have no ‘difficulty about supposing that He was supernaturally conceived in the virgin’s womb. On the contrary, the story of the virgin birth is profoundly congruous with the whole New Testament account of Jesus. If Jesus was at all the sort of person that He is represented as being in the whole New Testament, then it is an altogether believable thing that He came into the world in the manner described in the early chapters of the Gospels of Matthew and Luke; and it is an exceedingly improbable thing that He was the son, by ordinary generation, of Joseph and Mary. /

We do not mean that the story of the virgin birth ever could have been constructed merely by inference from the facts in the later life of Jesus; indeed, in the following section of our discussion, we shall adduce reasons to show that such could not have been the case. The birth narratives retain a wonderful originality as over against all the fancies of that day; and they are of a character that in itself commands respect. What we do mean is not that the direct attestation of the virgin birth is unnecessary in order that we may accept the fact, but only that it is in itself perhaps insufficient. It becomes convincing only when it is taken in connection with the entire account which the New Testament gives of the person of Jesus Christ.

But when it is actually taken in that connection, it becomes convincing indeed. These birth narratives bear many unmistakable indications of truth. Their wonderful restraint, their lofty moral tone, their delicacy of language, their primitive and Palestinian character, their lifelike depiction of the personalities involved, their mutual independence, and their agreement—these and many other characteristics create in the sympathetic reader an overpoweringly favorable impression. Such an impression might have to be resisted if these narratives stood alone. But when they are taken in connection with the whole majestic and self-evidencing portrait of Jesus Christ as it is contained in the

New Testament, the necessity for resistance is gone. The reader can now abandon himself without sacrifice of his scientific conscience to the spell of these matchless chapters, and can believe that the marvellous things that they narrate are sober truth. If Christ really rose from the dead, if He really was at all the kind of person that He is represented in the New Testament as being, then there is every reason to think that He was conceived by the Holy Ghost and born of the virgin Mary.