The Life of Jesus | Page 9

which the author convicts himself.
Now, although the ideas of the time respecting literary honesty differed
essentially from ours, there is no example in the apostolic world of a
falsehood of this kind. Besides, not only does the author wish to pass
for the apostle John, but we see clearly that he writes in the interest of
this apostle. On each page he betrays the desire to fortify his authority,
to show that he has been the favorite of Jesus;[1] that in all the solemn
circumstances (at the Lord's supper, at Calvary, at the tomb) he held the
first place. His relations on the whole fraternal, although not excluding
a certain rivalry with Peter;[2] his hatred, on the contrary, of Judas,[3] a
hatred probably anterior to the betrayal, seems to pierce through here
and there. We are tempted to believe that John, in his old age, having
read the Gospel narratives, on the one hand, remarked their various
inaccuracies,[4] on the other, was hurt at seeing that there was not
accorded to him a sufficiently high place in the history of Christ; that
then he commenced to dictate a number of things which he knew better
than the rest, with the intention of showing that in many instances, in
which only Peter was spoken of, he had figured with him and even
before him.[5] Already during the life of Jesus, these trifling sentiments
of jealousy had been manifested between the sons of Zebedee and the
other disciples. After the death of James, his brother, John remained
sole inheritor of the intimate remembrances of which these two apostles,
by the common consent, were the depositaries. Hence his perpetual
desire to recall that he is the last surviving eye-witness,[6] and the
pleasure which he takes in relating circumstances which he alone could
know. Hence, too, so many minute details which seem like the
commentaries of an annotator--"it was the sixth hour;" "it was night;"
"the servant's name was Malchus;" "they had made a fire of coals, for it
was cold;" "the coat was without seam." Hence, lastly, the disorder of

the compilation, the irregularity of the narration, the disjointedness of
the first chapters, all so many inexplicable features on the supposition
that this Gospel was but a theological thesis, without historic value, and
which, on the contrary, are perfectly intelligible, if, in conformity with
tradition, we see in them the remembrances of an old man, sometimes
of remarkable freshness, sometimes having undergone strange
modifications.
[Footnote 1: John xiii. 23, xix. 26, xx. 2, xxi. 7, 20.]
[Footnote 2: John xviii. 15-16, xx. 2-6, xxi. 15-16. Comp. i. 35, 40, 41.]
[Footnote 3: John vi. 65, xii. 6, xiii. 21, and following.]
[Footnote 4: The manner in which Aristion and Presbyteros Joannes
expressed themselves on the Gospel of Mark before Papias (Eusebius,
_H.E._, III. 39) implies, in effect, a friendly criticism, or, more properly,
a sort of excuse, indicating that John's disciples had better information
on the same subject.]
[Footnote 5: Compare John xviii. 15, and following, with Matthew xxvi.
58; John xx. 2 to 6, with Mark xvi. 7. See also John xiii. 24, 25.]
[Footnote 6: Chap. i. 14, xix. 35, xxi. 24, and following. Compare the
First Epistle of St. John, chap. i. 3, 5.]
A primary distinction, indeed, ought to be made in the Gospel of John.
On the one side, this Gospel presents us with a rough draft of the life of
Jesus, which differs considerably from that of the synoptics. On the
other, it puts into the mouth of Jesus discourses of which the tone, the
style, the treatment, and the doctrines have nothing in common with the
Logia given us by the synoptics. In this second respect, the difference is
such that we must make choice in a decisive manner. If Jesus spoke as
Matthew represents, he could not have spoken as John relates. Between
these two authorities no critic has ever hesitated, or can ever hesitate.
Far removed from the simple, disinterested, impersonal tone of the
synoptics, the Gospel of John shows incessantly the preoccupation of
the apologist--the mental reservation of the sectarian, the desire to

prove a thesis, and to convince adversaries.[1] It was not by pretentious
tirades, heavy, badly written, and appealing little to the moral sense,
that Jesus founded his divine work. If even Papias had not taught us
that Matthew wrote the sayings of Jesus in their original tongue, the
natural, ineffable truth, the charm beyond comparison of the discourses
in the synoptics, their profoundly Hebraistic idiom, the analogies which
they present with the sayings of the Jewish doctors of the period, their
perfect harmony with the natural phenomena of Galilee--all these
characteristics, compared with the obscure Gnosticism, with the
distorted metaphysics, which fill the discourses of John, would speak
loudly enough. This