1890 79 My Dear —,
I wish it were possible to discuss face to face the momentous questions involved in Biblical criticism. As it is, we must resort to writing, which has however this advantage, that thoughts can thereby be perhaps more calmly weighed as well as more exactly recorded. I agree with you that the subject is most momentous: all others in comparison with the authority of God's word are insignificant.
You may know that characteristic sonnet of Cardinal Newman's, in which he sighs forth the words, "I dreamed with a passionate complaint, I wished me born amid God's deeds of might." That is, he sighs for evidence to his reason, faith being weak. One can sympathise with the feeling, having experienced it, without the eloquence of that distinguished man. For him, as for us all, there is but one remedy — the word of God, the written word. If we have not that, we have nothing. Bear in mind that now-a-days that word is being surrendered piece-meal by apologetic friends. Hence many for tranquility of mind are going to Rome, where Dr. Newman sought repose long since in the bosom of a soi-disant infallible church, that "beauty ever ancient and ever young" which has charms for poetic minds. He had better have gone to headquarters, and rested on the divinely perfect word. This is the ground men of faith take, believing that providentially the word has been preserved of God by Christendom as a depositary. Hence we have them everywhere holding on to the integrity of the word, while the men of tradition receive it on the testimony of the church merely. Doubtless many Anglicans as individuals accredit the Bible on its own evidence, and dissenters too; but the fashion now is to sit in judgment on that word, and to accept just so much as scientific men will permit. Hence two "streams of tendency" (to quote a renegade): to Rome on the one hand, to infidelity on the other. This is the present serious position of affairs. These Oxford essayists are simply playing the sceptic's game. I do not wonder you feel it acutely. It is right that one should, especially with regard to the person of our blessed Lord.
Now as to Archdeacon Denison, I do not read his words as necessarily those of a man deprecating investigation; for I agree with you that such a position would be foolish and utterly untenable. Whatever is of God, it goes without saying, must be able to stand the most exhaustive scrutiny. A defender of the faith could never intelligently take up such a position. But what the Archdeacon, having read "Lux Mundi," bewails, seems what I, who have not seen that book, bewail, viz., the apparent readiness, not to say alacrity, on the part of professed believers to accept all the conclusions of modern thought, to be dogmatic as to them, and at the same time — a natural concomitant — to surrender all, if need be, that has been cherished for ages, to regard nothing as vital, nothing as essential, to squeeze out the wine, so to speak, from the grapes, and to proclaim them blood-red still. This appears to be what the Arch-deacon deplores. I judge so because the essays of the late Canon Aubrey Moore, one of the contributors to "Lux Mundi," gave me this impression. Suppose all that which this destructive criticism alleges were proved true, surely (to quote a statesman in another connection) "the decencies of mourning might have been vouchsafed to so irreparable a loss." But no! there is a self-complacency, an almost arrogant boastfulness of tone, a general loosening of ill beliefs, and a superior judgment that disestablishes anything or everything at the bidding of latter-day criticism. The grapes are squeezed, but they are to be called grapes still. Our blessed Lord was incarnate God, but He did not know He was making a profound mistake when He attributed Deuteronomy to Moses (for the other surmise that knowing He accommodated Himself to the popular view is too profane to be entertained)! He had not the advantage of living in the closing years of the nineteenth century, of reading the "higher criticism" of the Oxford Essayists or their German leaders, themselves led by our old English Deists!
No, my dear —, half measures will not do. I can understand logically the position of a Huxley or a Herbert Spencer. They do not believe in the Incarnation, nor in the Fall; we do, through God's grace, and we dare not allow that the blessed One was not infallible in all He said. Nor is it on isolated passages that we have to rest as to the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch. It is asserted again and again by Christ. Take one striking instance. "For he (Moses) wrote of Me. But if ye believe not his writings, how shall ye believe My words?" (John 5:46-47). And here we have more: Christ actually puts the written word (by Moses) as testimony above the spoken word, albeit by Himself. Again, "And beginning at Moses and all the prophets," etc. These instances could be easily multiplied. Hence on the Mosaic authorship rests the credibility of Christ. I know you do not put it as an actual assertion, but rather as a supposition, viz., that the divine character of the Pentateuch remains intact if Moses were proved not the author. This however is bat the thin end of the wedge with which Christianity is undermined. On the other hand, how can they prove that Moses was not the author of the books bearing his name, or anything else of the kind; unless, as seems to be the case, reverent acceptance is less forthcoming for the truth than robust credulity for whatever destructive criticism may hazard?
It is agreed that we cannot understand how the human and divine could be indissolubly blended in the Lord Jesus Christ. There is just the mystery of His person. He reveals the Father, but the Father is not said to reveal the Son. "No man knoweth the Son, but the Father" (Matt. 11). There the Lord stops. Those passages you quote refer most significantly to His wondrous humiliation — that deep descent (cp. Eph. 4:9-10; Ps. 68:18), His partaking of all human conditions apart from sin. The perfect child became perfect man. He could be hungry, thirsty, weary, though, as you say, He could fast for forty days, and afterwards He hungered. Nay, in Mark (as you quote) we read that the Son knew not "that day" (Mark 13:32). Do you not think, by the way, that there is a peculiar appropriateness where it occurs, and in the fact that it occurs here only? Our Lord takes the place of the servant in this Gospel, and as such, fulfilling His service, He knew not. But whenever He did speak, surely He spoke "with authority" (Mark 1:27; Mark 2:10; Mark 4:41; Mark 6:2; Mark 11:18). Thus even as a dependent man, a perfect servant, all He said was "with authority." Again, "He Whom God hath sent speaketh the words of God" (John 3:34). If, when our Lord speaks, He is not to be trusted in one instance, how do we know that He is to be trusted in another? Is one to wait and see what the next budget of higher criticism will allow us to believe?
This is rather rambling, but you will excuse it. In short, the position is, Positively, we must accept the words of Christ, and that absolutely, or we embark on a shoreless sea; negatively, why should we believe all that the scientific men tell us about dates, etc.? Nor am I the more disposed to it because certain professed Christians are characterised more by "bated breath and whispering humbleness" in the presence of destructive criticism than avowed sceptics, whose trade is to destroy.
Jonah is not touched upon. Suffice it to say here that our Lord refers to Jonah's experience (Matt. 12:40) as an actual fact, and as a type of His own death and resurrection. What need of more?
Very sincerely yours, R. Beacon, Jr.