By Stefan Zweig

Translated by Eden and Cedar Paul

Cassell and Company Ltd. 1936

Chapter Five:

The Murder of Servetus

(pgs. 140-165)

But the unhappy fugitive did something even more foolish, more challenging. Almost immediately after his arrival, on the same Sunday morning, August 13, Servetus attended service at the cathedral of St. Pierre, where the whole Calvinist congregation was assembled, and where Calvin was to preach, Calvin, who could recognize Servetus, because the two had been students together long before in Paris. No reasonable explanation of such conduct is possible, save that some mysterious compulsion, a fascination like that which brings a serpent’s victims to their doom, must have been at work.

It was inevitable, in a town where everyone spied on everyone else, that a stranger should be the cynosure of all eyes. What ensued was likewise inevitable. Calvin reorganized the ravening wolf among his pious flock, and unconspiciously gave orders to his minions. Servetus was arrested as he left the cathedral. Within an hour the fugitive was in chains. This arrest was a breach of international law, and also of the laws of hospitality generally accepted throughout the world. Servetus was not subject to Genevese jurisdiction,, unless for an offence committed d in that city. He was a foreigner, a Spaniard, who had only just arrived, and who had committed no crime which could justify his seizure. His books had been mm, -n and printed across the frontier, so that his heretical views could not have harmed any of the pious Geneses. Besides, a “preacher of God’s word” had no right to order a man to be arrested and chained when no charge had been brought, and when no trial had taken place. From whatever angle we regard the matter. Calvin’s seizure of Servetus was an outrageous exercise of dicta­torial power, which, in its open contempt of laws and treaties, can only be compared to Napoleon’s arrest and murder of the Due d’Enghien. In this case, as in that, the arrest was to be followed, not by a properly constituted trial, but by an illegal homicide.

Servetus was arrested and thrown into prison with­out any charge having been brought against him. Surely then a charge must subsequently be invented? Would it not be logical to expect that the, man who had insti­gated the arrest—”me auctore”, “at toy instigation” is Calvin’s own admission—should himself come forward as Servetus’s accuser? But the laws of Geneva were ex­emplary, and gave little encouragement to informers. They prescribed that any burgher who accused another of a crime should himself be arrested, and should be kept in prison until he had justified his accusation. Calvin, therefore, if he accused Servetus, would have to place himself at the disposal of the court. The theocratic dictator of Geneva did not relish the prospect. He would be in an unfortunate position if the Town Council were to declare Servetus not guilty, and if he himself were to remain under arrest for having brought an un­justifiable charge. What a blow that would be to his prestige, and what a triumph for his adversary. Calvin, diplomatic as ever, assigned to his secretary—or cook­—Nicolaus de la Fontaine, the thankless task of accuser. The worthy Nicolaus went quietly to prison instead of his master, after he had handed the authorities an indict­ment consisting of twenty-three points (a document com­piled, of course, by Calvin). Such was the comedy which served as curtain-raiser to a horrible tragedy. After a gross breach of law, the affair was given a legal complexion. Servetus was examined, and the various counts of the indictment were read aloud to him. His answers were calm and shrewd, for his energies had not yet been undermined by long imprisonment. Point by point, he rejected the accusations. For instance, in answer to the charge that he had attacked Calvin in his writings, Servetus declared this to be erroneous, for the attack had opened on Calvin’s side, and all that he, Servetus, had done was to reply that Calvin was not infallible. If Calvin accused him of obstinately sticking to, slain theses, he could rejoin that Calvin was no less stubborn. All that was at odds between Calvin and himself was a difference of opinion about certain theological matters, with which a secular court had no concern; and it Calvin had nevertheless arrested him, this had been the outcome of spite. The leader of Protestantism had denounced him to the Inquisition, and if this preacher of God’s word had had his way, he (Servetus) would have been burned long ago.

The legality of Servetus’s contentions was so indubit­able that the prevailing mood of the Council was very much in his favour, and it seemed likely that there would be no harsher decision than the issue of an order for deportation. Calvin, however, got wind of the fact that things were going well for Servetus, and he feared that in the end his victim might give him the slip. On August 17th, the dictator appeared before the Town Council and took a line which made an end of the pretence of non-participation. He showed his colours, no longer denying that he was Servetus’s accuser; and he begged leave of the Council to attend the proceedings henceforward, on the pretext that “thus the accused could be better convinced of his errors^“. Calvin’s real reason obviously was the wish ‘to throw his whole in­fluence into the scale in order to prevent his victim’s escape.

From the moment when Calvin autocratically thrust himself in between the accused and the judges, Servetus’s cause was lost. Calvin, a trained logician and learned jurist, was much more competent to press home the charge than his servant de la Fontaine had been; and Servetus’s confidence was shaken. The Spaniard was obviously unmanned now that his enemy sat among the judges, cold, severe, making a pretence of dispassionate­ness, as he asked one question after another-but, as Servetus felt in the marrow of his bones, moved by an iron determination to send the accused to doom. The defenseless man grew irritable, nervous, aggressive, bitter, and wrathful. Instead of tranquilly sticking to his legal standpoint, instead of insisting that as a foreigner he was not subject to Genevese jurisdiction unless he had broken the laws of the town, he allowed Calvin to entice him on to the treacherous ground of theological discussion, thus giving abundant justification for the charge of heresy. For even one of his contentions, such as that the devil likewise was part of the substance of God, sufficed to make the pious councilors shudder. But as soon as his philosophical vanity had been affronted, Servetus showed no restraint in the expressions he used about the thorniest and most dangerous problems, forgetting that the councilors were not able theologians before whom he could unconcernedly expound the truth. His very eloquence, his eagerness for discussion, made Servetus suspect to his judges. More and more they inclined to Calvin’s view, that this foreigner, who, with gleaming eyes and clenched fists, railed against the do brines of their Church, must be a dangerous disturber of the spiritual peace, and was probably an incurable heretic. Anyhow it was a good thing that he was being, objected to thorough examination. The court decided that he should remain Under arrest, while his accuser, Nicolaus de la Fountain, was to be set at liberty. Calvin had got his way and wrote joyfully to a friend : ” I hope he will be condemned to death.”

Why was Calvin so eager to obtain a capital sentence upon Servetus? Why was he not satisfied with the more modest triumph of having his adversary expelled the country, or humiliated in some similar way? Calvin did not detest Servetus more than he detested Castellio, and everyone who defied his authority. He loathed all those who tried to teach others in a different way from that which he advocated, such a detestation being instinc­tive in a man of his tyrannical disposition. So here, if he was particularly enraged against Servetus and wished to take extreme measures at this particular moment, his motives were not private but political. The rebel against his authority, this Miguel Servetus, was to be the scape­goat for another opponent of Calvin’s orthodoxy, the sometime Dominican monk, Hieronymus Bolsec, whom he had also tried to destroy as a heretic, and who, greatly to his annoyance, had escaped’. Bolsec, generally respected as family doctor to the leading patricians in Geneva, had openly attacked the weakest and most vul­nerable point of Calvin’s teaching, the rigid doctrine of predestination, using the argument which Erasmus had used against Luther. It was impossible, declared both these “heretics “, that God, as the principle of all good, could wittingly and willingly impel human beings to perform their worst deeds. Everyone knows how in­furiated Luther was by Erasmus’s reasoning; and what a flood of abuse the most noted champion of the Reformation, this master of coarse invective, let loose against the elderly sage. Still, rough, ill-tempered, and violent as Luther was, he nevertheless adduced logical considerations against Erasmus, and never thought of having Erasmus haled before a secular court for challenging the doctrine of predestination. Calvin, with his mania of infallibility, regarded and treated every adver­sary as a heretic, objection to his religious doctrine being for him equivalent to a crime against the State. Instead, therefore, of answering Bolsec with theological argu­ments, he had his critic clapped into gaol.

Unexpectedly, however, his attempt to make a terrible (sample of Hieronymus Bolsec was a failure. There were too many in Geneva who knew the learned physician to be a god-fearing man; and, just as in the Castellio affair, so also in that of Bolsee, Calvin’s behavior aroused the suspicion that he desired to rid himself of one who was not completely subject to his will, that he might reign hence toward alone in Geneva. Bolsec’s plaint penned while in prison, passed from hand to hand in numerous manuscript copies; and, despite Calvin’s clamours, the Town Council was afraid of condemning the prisoner for heresy. To evade this painful decision, they declared themselves incompetent to deal with religious matters, and refused to transcend their powers by adjudicating in a theological affair. At any rate, the councilors declared, in this thorny question they must demand the formal opinion of 1b. t h t Reformed Churches of Switzerland. This demand was Bolsec’s salvation, for the Reformed Churches of Zurich, Berne, and Basle-being, under the rose, ready enough to give their fanatical colleague in Geneva a set-back-unanimously declined to regard Bolsec’s utterances as blasphemous. The accused was acquitted by the Town Council; Calvin was refused his victim, and had to content himself with the municipal authority’s decree that Bolsec should leave the town.

Nothing but a new and successful charge of heresy could make people forget that Calvin’s theological supremacy had been successfully impugned. A victory over Servetus must compensate the dictator for his failure to make an end of Bolsec and against Servetus the chances of success were enormously more favourable. Servetus was a foreigner. He had not, like Castellio and Bolsec, many friends, admirers, and helpers in Geneva. Besides, the reformed clergy everywhere had for years been outraged by his bold attacks on the Trinity and by his challenging ways. It would be much easier to make an example of this outsider who had no backing. From the first, the trial was pre-eminently political; was a question of whether Calvin was or was not to rule; was a tug of war to show whether he would be able to enforce his will as spiritual dictator. If Calvin had wanted nothing more than to rid himself of Servetus as a private and theological adversary, he could have done so easily enough. Hardly had the Geneva inquiry opened, when an envoy from the French judicial authorities arrived, to demand the handing over to Vienna of a refugee already sentenced in France, where the scaffold was ready for him. What a splendid opportunity for Calvin to play the magnanimous, and nevertheless to rid himself of this hated adversary. The Town Council of Geneva need merely approve the extradition, and, as far as Geneva was concerned, the tiresome affair of Servetus would be over and done with. For centuries the odium of con­demning and burning this independent thinker would attach to the Catholic Inquisition. Calvin, however, opposed extradition. For him, Servetus was not a sub­ject, but an object, with whose aid lie would give an indubitable demonstration of the inviolability of his own doctrine. Servetus was to be a symbol, not a man. The French emissary, therefore, was sent back unsatisfied. the Protestant dictator intended to have the trial carried through under his own jurisdiction, that all and sundry might be convinced how disastrous it was to contradict Maitre Calvin.

Calvin’s friends in Geneva, as well as his enemies, were not slow to realize that the Servetus case was noth­ing more than a test of the dictator’s power. Naturally, therefore, friends as well as foes did what they could to prevent Calvin’s getting his way. To the rival groups of politicians, the unhappy Servetus was nothing more than an instrument, a crowbar with which the tyrant could, p chaps, be unseated. Little did any of them care whether this crowbar would break in their hands. Those who were most friendly to Servetus, did their protégé a very bad turn, for the false reports they circulated served only to increase Servetus’s hysterical exaltation; and their secret missives to the prisoner urging the latter to stiffen his resistance could not fail to work mischief. All that interested them was to make the trial as sensational as possible. The more Servetus defended himself, the more rabid his onslaught on Calvin, the better.

Really, alas, there was no need to incite Servetus to fill the cup of his heedlessness. The hardships of his long imprisonment inflamed the wrath of a man already prone to neurotic frenzy, since, as Calvin could not but know, Servetus had been treated with refined harshness. For weeks, though in his own eyes he was innocent, lie was kept like a condemned murderer in a cold and damp cell, with irons on hands and feet. His clothes hung in rags upon his freezing body; he was not provided with a change of linen. The most primitive demands of hygiene were disregarded. No one might tender him the slightest assistance. In his bitter need, Servetus petitioned the Council for more humane treatment, writ­ing: “Fleas are devouring me; my shoes are torn to pieces; I have nothing clean to wear “.

A secret hand (we cannot but guess whose hand it was that gave the screw-press another turn) interfered when the Council proposed to better Servetus’s lot. The up­shot was that this bold thinker and independent scholar was left to languish in his cell as a mangy dog might have been left to die upon a dunghill. Still more lament­able were the cries of distress uttered in a second letter, dated a few weeks later, when the prisoner was, literally, being suffocated in his own excrement. “I beg of you, for the love of Christ, not to refuse me what you would give to a Turk or a criminal. Nothing has been done to fulfill your orders that I should be kept clean. I am in a more pitiful condition than ever. It is abominably cruel that I should be given no chance of attending to my bodily needs.”

Still, nothing was done! Can we be surprised that when, once more, he was brought into court out of his befouled lair, he should explode with fury? This man in irons, clad in stinking rags, was confronted by his arch-­adversary on the judge’s seat; by Calvin, wearing a spruce, black gown, calm and cool, thoroughly prepared for the I ray after a good rest; by Calvin with whom the prisoner now wished to discuss matters, mind against mind, –polar against scholar; by Calvin, who reviled Servetus as .1 criminal and an assassin? Was it not inevitable that Servetus, teased by the basest and most malicious questions and insinuations relating to the most private affairs of his sexual life, angered and tormented, should lose his self-control, and answer the outrageous queries with invectives, should rail coarsely against his accuser? Servetus was wearied beyond endurance by sleepless nights. Now the man to whom he owed so much inhuman treatment had to listen to a volley of abuse.

Do you deny that you are an assassin? I will prove it by your actions. As regards myself, I confide in the justice of my cause and am not afraid of death. But you scream like a blind man in the desert, because the passion for vengeance burns in your heart. You lied, you lied, ignorant calumniator that you are. Wrath boils up within you when you are hounding any one to death. Would that all your magic were still hidden away within your mother’s womb, so that I could have a chance to recount your errors.”

In this outburst of wrath, the unhappy Servetus for­got the powerlessness of his position. His chains clank­ing, foaming at the mouth, he demanded of the Council, of his judges, that, instead of condemning him, they should pass sentence upon Calvin the law-breaker, upon the Genevese dictator.

“Magician that he is, you should not only find him guilty and sentence him, but should banish him from your city, while his property should be made over to me in compensation for mine, which, through him, I have lost.”

It need hardly be said that the worthy councilors were horrified at such words and at the spectacle before them; that of a lean, pallid, emaciated man, with a tangled beard, who, with glowing eyes and speaking foreigner’s French, hurled abominable accusations at their Christian leader. They could not but consider him a man possessed, a man driven by the promptings of Satan.

From hearing to hearing, their feelings towards him grew more and more unfavorable. Really the trial was over, and nothing left but to condemn the accused. But Calvin’s masked enemies wanted the affair to be long drawn out, still doing their utmost to deprive the dictator of the triumph he would secure from the condemnation of his adversary. Once more they did their utmost to save Servetus, arranging, as in Bolsec’s ease, to secure the opinion of the other Swiss Reformed synods, actuated by the secret hope that in this instance, likewise, the victim 4 Calvin’s dogmatism would be torn from the zealot’s dews.

Calvin, however, was only too well aware that his authority was shaken and might fall. It was essential for him to avoid a second reverse. He took measures accordingly, dispatching, while his victim still rotted in prison, missive after missive to the synods of Zurich, Basle, Berne, and Schaffhausen, to influence the opinions of these bodies. Messengers were speeded to all points of the compass; friends were set in motion to warn his colleagues against helping so wicked a blasphemer to escape judgment. He was aided in his machinations by the fact that Servetus was known to be a disturber of the iii-logical peace, and that since the days of Zwingli and Bucer, the “impudent Spaniard” had been loathed throughout Protestant Europe. The result was that the Swiss synods unanimously pronounced Servetus’s views to be erroneous and wicked. Even though not one of the four religious communities frankly demanded or even approved capital punishment, they nevertheless endorsed on principle any severe measures that might be taken.

Zurich wrote: “We leave it to your wisdom to decide how this man should be punished “. Berne answered that the judges in Geneva should “borrow the spirit of wisdom and strength “, so that their Church and the other Swiss Churches should be well served, and they should all be freed “from this plague”. Still, the reference to settling the matter by violence was weakened by the exhortation: “We trust that you will decide to act in such a way as to do nothing which might seem unbecoming to Christian municipal authorities”. Not one of those whose counsel Calvin sought, ventured openly to urge the passing of a death sentence. Never­theless, since the Churches had approved the legal pro­ceedings against Servetus, Calvin felt they would also approve the inevitable sequel; for, by their studied am­biguity, they left him a free hand. Whenever Calvin’s hand was free, it struck hard and resolutely. Vainly now did those who secretly desired to help Servetus, endeavour at the last hour, when the opinions of the synods had been sent in, to try to avert the doom. Perrin and other republicans proposed an appeal to the Council of Two Hundred, the supreme authority. But it was too late; even Calvin’s opponents felt it would be perilous to resist. On October 26th, by a majority vote of the Small Council sitting as High Court of Criminal Justice, Ser­vetus was sentenced to be burned alive, this cruel verdict to take effect next day on the plateau of Champel.

Week after week, Servetus, shut away from the outer world, had indulged in extravagant hopes. He was a highly imaginative man; he had been yet more disordered by the whisperings of his alleged friends, and he clung more and more desperately to the illusion that he had convinced his judges of the soundness of his theses; so lie felt assured that within a few days Calvin, the usurper, would be shamefully expelled from Geneva. How terrible was his awakening, when, with an inscrutable expression, the secretary of the Council entered his cell early in the morning of the 27th and ceremoniously un­rolled a parchment to read the sentence. Servetus was thunderstruck. He listened as if unable to understand the words which informed him that this day he was to be burned alive as a blasphemer. For a few minutes be stood as if deaf and unconscious. Then the unhappy man’s nerves gave way. He began to sob and to groan, until at length in his Spanish mother-tongue he cried aloud: “Misericordias!” His arrogance gave way before these terrible tidings. Crushed, almost annihilated, he succumbed to overwhelming discouragement. The domineering preachers, likewise a prey to illusion, believed that the hour had come in which, after gaining a secular triumph over Servetus, they would gain a spiritual triumph as well, that despair would wring from the prisoner a voluntary avowal of error.

Yet, marvelously enough, as soon as the poor, broken wretch was asked to repudiate his theses, as soon as his innermost faith was challenged, his pride flamed up anew. If his body was to be burned, his body was to be burned; but he would not abate a little of  his beliefs; and during the last hours the knight errant of science rose to the stature of a martyr and hero of conviction. Though Farel hastened over from Lausanne to share in Calvin’s triumph, Servetus contemptuously rejected Farel’s promptings, declaring that a secular legal decision could never be accepted as proof of a man’s rightness or wrongness in divine concerns. You might murder a man without convincing him. His mind had not been convicted of error, though his body was to be put to death. Neither by threats nor by promises, could Farel extract from the chained and doomed victim as much as a word of recanta­tion. Still, since he held firmly to his conviction that he was no heretic but a believing Christian whose duty it was to reconcile himself even with the fiercest of his enemies, Servetus expressed a wish to see Calvin.

The only report of Calvin’s visit is Calvin’s own. Dead men tell no tales. Calvin’s report of Calvin’s be­haviour admirably discloses Calvin’s rigidity and harsh­ness. The triumphant dictator came down into the victim’s cold, dank, and dark cell, not to offer consola­tion, not to say a brotherly or Christian word of kindness to him who was about to die in torment. Quietly, in the most matter of fact way, Calvin opened the conversa­tion by asking why Servetus had summoned him. Plainly he expected Servetus to kneel, to urge from the almighty dictator a cancelment, or at least a mitigation of the sen­tence. Servetus answered simply, so that anyone with a human heart in his breast must be touched by the record that his only object in sending for Calvin had been to beg forgiveness. The victim offered reconciliation to the inquisitor who had sent him to his doom. Cal­vin, however, stony of visage, could never regard a political and religious opponent as either a Christian or a man.

Read the words of his frigid report:

“My only answer was to say that I had never (this being the truth) regarded him with personal animus.”

Death at the stake by roasting with a slow fire is the most agonizing of all modes of execution. Even the Middle Ages, famous for cruelty, seldom carried out this punishment to an extremity. In most cases those sentenced to such a fate were not left to the mercy of the flames. They were strangled, or benumbed in some way. But this abominable death had been decreed for the first heretic sentenced to it by Protestants; and we can well understand that Calvin, when a cry of indignation rose from the humane persons still left in the world, would endeavor, long afterwards, very long afterwards, to shuffle off the responsibility for the exceptional cruelty of Servetus’s execution. He and the other members of the Consistory, so he tells us years after Servetus’s body had been reduced to ashes, tried to secure that the sentence of death by slow fire should be commuted into the milder one of death by the sword. Their labors had been in vain. (”Genus mortis conati sumus mutare, sed frustra.”) In the minutes of the Council, we cannot find a word about such frustrated endeavors and what unprejudiced person will believe that Calvin who, throughout the trial, had IoW the screw upon the Council to pass a death sentence on Servetus, and had gained his end, should have suddenly become no more than an uninfluential private citizen in Geneva, and should have been unable to ensure a more merciful method of execution? As far as the latter e. concerned it is true that Calvin had contemplated a mitigation of the sentence-but only if Servetus were to purchase this mitigation by a spiritual sacrifice, by a last hour recantation. Not from human kindliness, but from crude political calculation, Calvin would then, for the first time in his life, have shown himself gentle to an adversary. What a triumph it would have been for Genevese doctrine, if Servetus just before going to the stake, had admitted himself to be wrong and Calvin to be right. What a victory to have compelled the Spanish blasphemer to acknowledge that he was not dying on behalf of his own doctrine, but must admit before the whole population that Calvin’s was the only true doctrine in the world.

Servetus, however, knew the price he would have to pay for any concession. Stubbornness was faced by stubbornness, fanaticism by fanaticism. He would rather die in unspeakable torment on behalf of his convictions than secure a more merciful death to favour the dogmas of Maitre Jehan Calvin. He would rather suffer agonies for half an hour, winning thereby the crown of martyr­dom, and attaching to Calvin for all time the stigma of utter barbarism. Servetus bluntly refused to comply, rallying his forces to endure his awful fate.

The rest is a tale of horror. On October 27th, at eleven in the morning, the prisoner was brought out of prison in his befouled rags. He was looking his last, with blinking eyes, at the light of day. His beard tangled, his visage dirty and wasted, his chains rattling, he tottered as he walked, and his ashen tint was ghastly on that clear autumn day. In front of the steps of the Town Hall, the officers of the law, having hustled him along (since weeks of inaction had almost robbed him of the power of walking), thrust him on to his knees. With lowered head, he listened to the sentence, which a syndic now read aloud to the assembled populace. It ended with the words : ” We condemn thee, Miguel Servetus, to be con­veyed in bonds to Champel, there to be burned alive, and with thee the manuscript of thy book and the printed volume, until thy body is consumed to ashes. Thus shalt thou end thy days, as a warning to all others who might wish to repeat thine offence.”

The doomed man’s teeth chattered with cold as he listened. In his extremity, he crawled on his knees nearer to the municipal authorities, assembled on the steps, and implored that by their grace he might be decapitated before his body was burned, “lest the agony should drive me to repudiate the convictions of a lifetime “. If he had sinned, he went on, it had been unwittingly; for he had always been impelled by the one thought of promot­ing the divine honour.

At this moment, Farel pushed between the judges and the kneeling man. In a voice that could be heard far and wide, he asked whether Servetus was prepared to denounce the teaching he had directed against the Trinity, and thus to secure the boon of a milder form of execution.

Servetus, however, though in most respects he was but a mediocre man, contemptuously rejected this offer, thus showing his moral greatness, his willingness to fulfill his pledge, his determination to suffer the worst on behalf of his convictions.

Now the procession moved on towards the place of execution. It was led by the lord lieutenant and his deputy, wearing the insignia of their rank and sur­rounded by a guard of archers. The crowd, eager for sensation, followed. All the way across the city, past numerous affrighted and silent spectators, Farel clung to the side of the condemned man, keeping step with Servetus, whom he continually asked for an acknowledg­ment of error and for repudiation of false doctrine. When Servetus, with genuine piety, answered that, though he was being put to death unjustly, he neverthe­less implored God to be merciful’ to his accuser, Farel replied with dogmatic wrath:” What? After having committed the most abominable sin, do you still try to justify it? If you remain obstinate I shall leave you to God’s judgment, and shall go no farther beside you, although I had determined not to leave you before you should draw your last breath.” Servetus made no further reply. He was nauseated by the executioners and the disputatious theologians, and would not vouchsafe them another word. Unceasingly this alleged heretic and atheist murmured, as if for his own comfort: “0 God, save my soul, 0 Jesus, Son of the Eternal God, have pity on me.” Then uplifting his voice, he begged all present to pray with him and for him. On reaching the place of execution, within sight of the stake, he kneeled once more to collect his thoughts in pious meditation. But the fanatical Farel, fearing lest this pure-hearted demeanor of a reputed heretic might make an impres­sion upon the people, cried to them over the head of the condemned: ” You see what power Satan possesses when he has a man in his claws ! This fellow is most learned, and believed himself to be acting rightly. But now he is in Satan’s grip and the like may happen to any of you.

Meanwhile the loathsome preparations were begun. The wood was piled round the stake to which the clank­ing chains had been nailed. The executioner bound the victim’s hands. Then Farel, for the last time, pressed nearer to Servetus, who was only sighing, ” 0 God, my God “, and shouted fiercely : ” Have you nothing more to say? ” The contentious pastor still hoped that the sight of the post where he was to endure martyrdom would convince Servetus that the Calvinist faith was the only true one. But Servetus answered: ” What else can I do than call on God?”

The disappointed Farel quitted his victim. Now it only remained for the other executioner, the official one, to perform his hateful task. The chains attached to the stake were wound four or five times around it and around the poor wretch’s wasted body. Between this and the chains, the executioner’s assistants then inserted the book and the manuscript which Servetus had sent to Calvin under seal to ask Calvin’s fraternal opinion upon it. Finally, in scorn, there was pressed upon the martyr’s brow a crown of leaves impregnated with sulphur. The preliminaries were over. The executioner kindled the faggots and the murder began.

When the flames rose around him, Servetus uttered so dreadful a cry that many of the onlookers turned their eyes away from the pitiful sight. Soon the smoke inter­posed a veil in front of the writhing body, but the yells of agony grew louder and louder, until at length came an imploring scream : ” Jesus, Son of the everlasting God, have pity on me! ” The struggle with death lasted half an hour. Then the flames abated, the smoke dispersed, and attached to the blackened stake there remained, above the glowing embers, a black, sickening, charred mass, a loathsome jelly, which had lost human semblance. What had once been a thinking earthly creature, passion­ately straining towards the eternal, what had been a breathing fragment of the divine soul, was now reduced to a vestige so offensive, so repulsive, that surely the sight of it might have made even Calvin aware how inhuman had been his conduct in arrogating to himself the right of becoming judge and slayer of one of his brethren.

But where was Calvin in this fearful hour? Either to show himself disinterested or else to spare his nerves from shock, he had remained at home. He was in his study, windows closed, having left to the executioner and to Farel (a coarser brute than himself) the odious task of witnessing the execution. So long as no more was needed than to track down an innocent man, to accuse him, browbeat him, and bring him to the stake, Calvin had been an indefatigable leader. But in the hour of performance, he left matters to Farel and the paid assist­ants, while he himself, the man who had really willed and commanded this “pious murder”, kept discreetly aloof. Next Sunday, however, clad in his black cassock, he entered the pulpit to boast of the deed before a silent con­gregation, declaring it to have been a great deed and a just one, although he had not dared to watch the pitiful spectacle.

The first question that came to my own mind was, if Tipton wants to correct views on the Christian faith he believes to be in error, then why not focus on points that deviate from “biblical teaching” exclusively, where the original Christian teachings are not only found but fully expressed? Why the concern about “deviations” from “Reformed confessional orthodoxy,” something that neither Jesus nor his apostles could have made reference to? If our true goal is to conform our beliefs to the word of Christ and his apostles (not merely human traditions and doctrinal formulas), why can’t we—as Christ’s followers and as adherents of the apostolic tradition—just stick to the “creeds” and “confessions of faith” already present in the inspired scriptural accounts and concern ourselves with positions that deviate from these?

In any case, Tipton goes on to point out what is, in his mind, the ideal expression of “Biblico-systematic theology,” an “exegetical discipline” that he believes will harmonize with his “Reformed” doctrinal tradition, a tradition that must be ‘militantly defended.’ As Tipton states,

Biblico-systematic theology, at its best, is an exegetical discipline regulated by the sole authority of the inscripturated Word of God and militant in its defense of Reformed orthodoxy.

The problem, in my view, is that Tipton seems to almost equate “the authority of the inscripturated Word of God” with his own “Reformed orthodoxy,” as if they were one and the same, or as if “the authority of the inscripturated Word of God” some how needed “Reformed orthodoxy” to clarify its teachings—when, as I will attempt to show below, “Reformed orthodoxy” unfortunately goes beyond the authoritative statements of Scripture and misrepresents what is revealed there in the process.

Let us now consider the actual words of Hebrews 1:1-4. I will present some straightforward observations regarding critical points in the text that Tipton seems to overlook, along with an ongoing commentary on Tipton’s Trinitarian “exegesis.” The opening verse in the book of Hebrews states:

In the past God spoke to our forefathers at many times and in various ways through the prophets, but in these last days he has spoken to us through a Son…

In the opening verse the author announces that “God” has spoken in various ways in the past through “the prophets,” but, at the end of these days, has spoken to us through “a Son.” That is, the introductory verse itself—which sets the tone for everything that follows—plainly presents “God” and the “Son” as two distinct figures, just as “God” is a distinct figure from “the prophets” through whom He spoke in the past. Since “the prophets” were not “God” but the ones “through” (literally ‘in’) whom “God” once spoke, there is no reason at all to think that the “Son” is “God” but that he is, as the text states, the one “through/in” whom “God” has spoken in the last days.

There is, in fact, no logical reason why the notion that Jesus is “God” would even come up into the consciousness of any reader at this point, especially those in the first century who had no knowledge of Trinitarian doctrine or of “Reformed confessional orthodoxy.”

…whom [God] appointed heir of all things, and through whom he made the ages…

Here the “Son” is not identified as the “God” who spoke long ago but as the one whom this “God” has “appointed heir of all things,” in harmony with an ideal ‘Father-Son’ relationship. Likewise, the “Son” is not presented as the “eternal” possessor of “all things” because of his so-called “ontic status” as “the eternal, second person of the Trinity,” but as God’s “Son” who has been “appointed” by God to be “heir of all things.” In other words, the Son has what he has in this text (‘all things’), not by “nature” or “ontological right,” but by “inheritance” as the beloved Son of his Father.

The movement of the chiasm, then, is from preexistence understood economically in 2c (i.e., with regard to the economy of creation) to preexistence understood ontologically in 3a-b (i.e., with regard to the deity of the Son and his coequality with God the Father). The movement is quite natural. An immediate level of explanation regarding the Son’s role with respect to creation is his essential deity and coequality with the Father (i.e., the homoousios).

The ‘Son’s role with respect to creation in Hebrews’ is, clearly, an intermediary one. That is, the Son is not depicted as the maker of the “ages” but the one ‘through/in’ whom “God” has made the ages. In this verse, the “Son” is not “God” himself, since “God” is the one who made the ages “through” him—a very basic, non-controversial point.

[The ‘Son’] is the radiance/reflection of [God’s] glory and the exact representation of his very being…

Here, in full harmony with the above observations, the Son is described as the “radiance” or “reflection” of another’s glory, namely, that of the “God” of the Hebrew forefathers. Indeed, the “Son” is the “exact representation (charakter)” of this God’s “very being (hupostaseos).”

Three points need to be kept in mind in light of Tipton’s foregoing ‘exegesis’: (1) The text does not identify the Son as ‘God’ but presents him as distinct from ‘God’ as God’s perfect representative—the “exact representation of [God’s] very being.” (2) It should really go without saying that, if someone is “the exact representation” “reproduction” of God’s “being,” then that someone is not “God” but “the exact representation/reproduction of God’s being.” (3) The text says nothing about the Son’s “coequality with God the Father,” nothing about his “essential deity,” and nothing about him as “homoousios” with the Father (meaning ‘of the same substance/being’).

Considering what was actually written in Hebrews, it is difficult to understand why the notion that the Son is ‘God,’ or that he is ‘of the same substance/being’ as the Father, even comes up, since 1:3 explicitly tells us that the Son is the “exact representation” of “[God’s] being,” not that he is (or that he is of) the same ‘being’ as Him. The “consubstantial/of the same being” concept can only enter the picture, of course, when one imports it from a source outside the text itself, particularly the doctrinal formula of Nicea (325CE).

To put it another way, according to the clear language of the text, the Son is an exact “representation” or “reproduction” of someone else’s being, namely, God’s being; yet, in Trinitarianism, God’s ‘being’ and the Son’s ‘being’ are the same ‘being’ (one ‘being’ shared by multiple ‘persons’). But the first-century text itself completely rules out the need to even bring up a fourth-century concept like “of the same being (homoousious),” since it already tells us that the Son is a “copy” or “representation” of God’s being, not an “eternal partaker” in it (in line with Trinitarian thought).

“D and D [Heb. 1:3a and Heb. 1:3b]’, when properly understood, therefore express the glory and deity that belong to the eternal Son of God prior to and apart from any economic activity at all. In this sense, then, the revelatory and redemptive works of Jesus Christ—his eschatological significance in redemptive history—derives ultimately from his eternal ontic status as the Son of God.”

Yet nothing in this text, or any other place in Scripture for that mater, tells us that Jesus ever possessed an “eternal ontic status” or “deity” as “the eternal Son of God.” In other words, Tipton’s argument never even gets off the ground, scripturally speaking. The theological premise Tipton appeals to does not even appear in the New Testament.

“The relative pronoun hos, followed by the present participle on, denotes timeless dimension to the Son’s status.”

The pronoun hos (who), followed by on (being), says nothing about the “timeless dimension of the Son’s status,” as if the author of Hebrews is articulating the Son’s status as an “eternal” person (without beginning). The meaning is simply that “he,” the Son, “exists as…” In other words, this is what he is, or what he is existing as—namely, the reflection of God’s glory and the exact representation of God’s being.

…sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.

If the reference to the “all things” the Son sustains by his “powerful word” is to be understood as “the universe” (ESV) or ‘all created things,’ the Son clearly sustains these by his powerful word, not as “God” (Heb. 1:1), but as God’s “Son” who has inherited “all things” by God’s appointment (Heb. 1:3). It should be noted, likewise, that the Son is not identified as the “Majesty in heaven” himself, namely, as “God” (Heb. 1:1), but as one who has “sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven,” an honor that has been conferred upon the Son by God, according to the Scriptures. That is to say, the Son enjoys the position he has at the “right hand of the majesty on high” (= ‘the right hand of God,’ Acts 2:33; Rom. 8:34) because God has “highly exalted him,” due to his obedient life and sacrificial death (Phil. 2:5-11).

So He has become as much superior to the angels as the name he has inherited is superior to theirs. The next verse clearly reveals that the Son “has become superior” to the angels since the name he has “inherited” is “superior” or “more excellent than theirs.” According to the clear teaching of the New Testament, the Son achieved his exalted status because of the name (and corresponding authority/power/honor/position) God has “given” to him—again, due to his “obedience” to God to the point of death, a death which resulted in “purification for sins” (Phil. 2:8; Heb. 1:3).

“Hebrews 1:3a offers a virtual ascription of Isaiah 42:8 to the Son of God. The effulgence of the glory of the Lord God, which will not be shared with another, is essential to the identity of the eternal Son of God.”

Hebrews 1:3 does not offer “a virtual ascription of Isaiah 42:8 to the Son of God.” Hebrews 1:3 says that the Son is the “radiance” or “reflection” of “[God’s] glory.” Isaiah 42:8 records God as saying: “I am Jehovah; that is my name; my glory I give to no other, nor my praise to carved idols.” What “virtual ascription” is to be found when comparing these two texts?

Isaiah 42:8 is not even a text that presents an attribute of God that can be ascribed to another, like Jesus or anyone else. It is simply a statement made by God to the effect that “Jehovah” is his name and that he will not give his “glory” to another. And Isaiah 42:8 does not exactly speak of the “the effulgence of the glory of the Lord God,” but simply of the “glory” that God will not give to another, particularly glory in connection with “praise” to a lifeless “carved idol.”

It appears that Tipton tries to argue the point that, since God said that he would not share his “glory” with another (Isaiah 42:8), yet the Son ‘radiates’ the “glory” of God, that this should somehow lead us, theologically speaking, to believe that the Son must be “coequal/consubstantial” with the Father as a second member of the “Godhead.” Yet there is, in truth, no logical or scriptural necessity in drawing such a far-fetched, anachronistic theological conclusion.

That is to say, scripturally speaking, the Son does not have to be “God,” “eternal,” or “consubstantial with the Father,” in order for him to “radiate/reflect” the glory of God. In fact, in order for the Son to radiate or reflect the glory of God, he has to be someone other than “God” for the statement to even make sense. Even the glory that the Son is said to possess in other texts is the “glory” that was “given” to him by God, not a “glory” possessed by him as an alleged “eternal, second ‘person’ of the Trinity.” The fact that the Son has “glory” or that he ‘radiates’ the glory of God neither leads us into a Trinitarian doctrine of the Son, nor does it somehow contradict Isaiah 42:8. In other words, we do not have to conclude from the fact that ‘glory’ is ascribed to the Son in Scripture that this somehow makes him “God” or “coequal with the Father.”

In reference to his disciples, Jesus said to his Father, “The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one” (John 17:22). In this example, even the disciples are “given” the “glory” that God has “given” to the Son; and, according to Jesus, they can even participate in the unity or “oneness” characterized by the Father-Son relationship (‘that they [the disciples] may be one even as we [the Father and Son] are one’). This, of course, does not make the disciples “coeternal with the Father” as members of a so-called “Godhead,” and neither does the “glory” possessed by the disciples make them part of a “Godhead” either, even though God explicitly declared that he would not share his glory with another (Isaiah 42:8).

God’s unwillingness to share his glory with others, in the context of Isaiah, clearly speaks to how God will not share glory with a rival or competing god, particularly a man-made “idol.” From a biblical perspective, however, God gladly confers ‘glory’ upon those who serve him and carry out his will/purpose, as in the case of his “beloved Son” and all of God’s faithful “children” (Compare Psalm 8:5; Luke 2:32; Acts 3:13 ; Romans 8:17, 21, 30; 9:4; Hebrews 2:10; 1 Peter 5:1, 4, 10).

Hebrews 1:3 does not identify the Son as Jehovah (‘the God’ of the ‘fathers’), nor does it say or somehow imply that the Son is an “eternal” member of Jehovah’s “Godhead.” The text does clearly indicate that the Son “radiates” or “reflects” the glory of Jehovah (the ‘God’ who ‘spoke through the prophets,’ including the prophet Isaiah), something that is completely appropriate for God’s Son to do as “the exact representation of [God’s] very being.” By speaking for God and by performing God’s will perfectly (‘obedience’ to God ‘to the point of death’ Phil. 2:8), the Son not only perfectly ‘represents’ God but ‘radiates’ and ‘reflects’ the glory of God like no other.

“…if we take them in a theological, Trinitarian sense, then the first phrase expresses the essential unity of the Godhead by reason of the identity of the Father and the Son; we cannot think of the Son without the Father; and the second phrase indicates the result, namely, the likeness of the Son to the Father. In theological language, then, the expression the effulgence of his glory assures us of the Son’s being homoousios with the Father, and the expression the very image of his substance assures the Son’s being the monogenese of the Father.”

In one sense, Tipton is right. If the statements in Hebrews 1:3 are taken in a latter, “theological, Trinitarian sense,” then any Reformed theologian could attempt to superimpose a concept of the Son’s alleged “essential unity” and “homoousios” with the Father onto the text. If, however, we take the statements as they stand, according to the language used, then the phrases express how the Son is one who ‘reflects’ the glory of God (someone the Son is distinct from) and how he is a perfect “reproduction” of God’s being, as is fitting for a true and ideal “Son” like Jesus to be. And, if we understand the unity between the Father and Son as it stands presented in Scripture, we will see that the unity or “oneness” Jesus enjoys with his Father is the same “oneness” that his disciples, according to Jesus, can participate in as well. Biblically speaking, Jesus’ “oneness” with God has nothing to do with an “ontological” or “metaphysical” unity with God as the “eternal Son of the Father,” but has everything to do with the Son’s agreement with, and loving obedience to, “the will of the one who sent” him (John 5:30; 6:39); as the Lord Jesus himself said concerning his Father: “And he who sent me is with me. He has not left me alone, for I always do the things that are pleasing to him” (John 8:29).

Colossians 1:15-20 is the second section of Scripture “exegeted” in Tipton’s study. Beginning in verse 15, Paul says of the “beloved Son” Jesus:

He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation. For in him all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities—all things were created through him and for him. And he is before all things, and in him all things hold together. And he is the head of the body, the church. He is the beginning, the firstborn from the dead, that in everything he might be preeminent. For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross.

“Verse 15b, however, relates the eternal Son in his preincarnate mode of existence to the created order; he is ‘firstborn over all creation’ (prototokos pases ktiseos).”

Verse 15 does not speak of an “eternal Son.” Neither does verse 15 say that the Son is “the firstborn over all creation,” but “the firstborn of all creation.” “Firstborn over all creation” is an erroneous rendering not supported by the original Greek. The correct translation is the one found in most literal Bible versions—“the firstborn of all creation.” The phrase must include the “of” because it is a necessary element, part of the word pases, the genitive form of the word “all.” The word ktiseos is likewise a genitive form of the Greek word for “creature” or “creation.”

“The word prototokos denotes superiority in rank or dignity, illustrated by its usage in LXX Psalm 89:27, ‘I will appoint him my firstborn [prototkov in the accusative, the most exalted of the kings of the earth.”

Lexically, the term prototokos simply means “firstborn (one born first),” and is often used to mean precisely that in Scripture. It is true that the term is used at times in Scripture figuratively to denote ‘superiority in rank’ or ‘dignity,’ but that is not what the term actually means, by definition.

If we interpret “firstborn” in Colossians 1:15, however, to denote “superior in rank” or “most exalted,” then Colossians 1:15 would essentially mean that Christ is “the most exalted of all creation,” doing nothing to support the concept of an “eternal Son of God.” So, the problem, for “Reformed Confessional Orthodoxy,” is, if Tipton is correct about the implication of the term “firstborn,” Christ is still “of,” or a part of, “all creation”; only he is “the most exalted” of it all, no matter what “creation” is in view.

“Therefore, the distinction between the Son of God as the image of the invisible God and the firstborn over all creation becomes clear. The image of God language clarifies the Son’s consubstantial relation to the Father (cf. 1:19 and 2:9), and the firstborn language clarifies the Son’s fundamental relation to creation. While there is a meaningful way to distinguish what comes into view in 15a and 15b, namely, relationship to God and world respectively, both phrases denote the personal preexistence of the eternal Son of God.”

Again, the Son is not described as the firstborn “over” all creation but as the firstborn “of” all creation. And the “image of God” language clarifies that Jesus is exactly that; he is the “image” or “visible representation” of the “invisible God,” not the “invisible God” himself—just as, in Hebrews 1:3, Jesus is identified as the “exact representation” or “express image” of the “God” of the forefathers, not as “God” (Heb. 1:1). Scripturally, the “image of the invisible God” language cannot clarify the Son’s “consubstantial relation to the Father” because the Son is never said to have a “consubstantial” relation to the Father, but another kind of relationship. As pointed out, the Son is not “of the same substance/being” as the Father (‘consubstantial’) but a “perfect copy/exact representation” of the “substance/being” of the Father, according to Hebrews 1:3.

Contrary to what Tipton implies by referencing the two texts, neither Colossians 1:19 nor 2:9 present the Son as “consubstantial” with the Father. This kind of language does not appear in these texts and the concepts represented by this language are not there either. The language of Colossians 1:19 actually implies that the “godship (theotetos)” possessed by the Son in Colossians 2:9 is possessed by the Son because of God’s decision to endow him with such, not because he is an “eternal” possessor of such in a so-called “consubstantial” relationship with the Father.

“Just as the eternal Son of God is before all things (17a), so also, as the ascended Son, Christ is preeminent in everything (v. 18c). Just as the eternal Son originates all things (v. 16), so also as resurrected he is ‘the beginning’ (hos estin arche, 18b).”

 The Son is not described as “eternal/without beginning” in this text or in any other. He is “before all things (Gk. pro panton),” evidently, because “all things” were made “in” and “through him (di autou).” Logically, the Son had to be “before” the “all things” in order for him to be the one “in” and “through” whom they were created. But the Son does not have to be “before” all things because he is “eternal/without beginning.” He can be described as “before all things” because, out of “all creation” (whatever ‘creation’ is in view), he is “firstborn” (Col. 1:15).

The expression “before all things (Gk. pro panton),” however, does not necessarily have to mean “before” in the sense of “before (in time).” Contextually speaking, the statement can very well mean that the Son is “before all things” in the sense articulated in verse 18, namely, that “[the Son] might have first place [or ‘preeminence’] in everything.” The Greek pro can bear the sense of “before (in time)” or ‘superior’ in ‘rank’ or ‘importance.’ In fact the identical expression is used this way in 1 Peter 4:8, where the apostle wrote, “above all things (Gk. pro panton) have fervent love for one another” (NKJV)—meaning that “love” among Christians should be ‘pre-eminent’ or the ‘most important,’ above all other virtues. In the same way, the statement that the Son is “before all things (Gk. pro panton)” could simply mean that the Son is above, or that he has ‘first place’ in, all things, a meaning that would fit the context perfectly.

Contrary to Tipton’s assumption, verse 16 does not say that the Son is eternal or that he “originates all things,” as if Scripture presented the Son as the ultimate source or power behind the creation he is associated with. Verse 16 says literally, “in him were created all things” and that “all things were created through him and for him.”

“…estin immediately following the relative pronoun hos can be taken as a timeless/atemporal present, which would mean that the Son is eternally the image of the invisible God and would imply his eternal generation…the prelapsarian activity of the eternal Son with reference to creation, lending support to taking estin as a “timeless/atemporal” present.…the timeless estin in 15a/17/a. The implication is that while the preexistent Son remains forever the one who is before all things as the eternal image of God and firstborn over all creation, he nonetheless comes to possess preeminence in all things by virtue of his exaltation in redemptive history.”

This is one of the more surprising and bizarre arguments in Tipton’s article. In this case, because the verb estin itself represents a state of existing (without reference to beginning or end), Tipton wants to make the verb “is/estin” carry the connotation of “eternally existing” in reference to Christ as the image of God. That is, for Tipton, Paul is not just saying that Christ “is the image of the invisible God,” but that he “is [eternally existing as] the image of the invisible God,” in line with the requirements of Trinitarian theology. This is a linguistic fallacy of a very odd but commonly Trinitarian sort.

The verb estin is equivalent to the English verb “is” and implies “eternal existence” no more than the English verb it is equivalent to. In the very same letter, Paul says of Epaphras: “He is [estin] a faithful minister of Christ…” (Col. 1:7). Does the occurrence of the quite ordinary verb estin (‘is’) imply that Epaprhas is somehow “[eternally] a faithful minister of Christ (without beginning)”? Of course not; and neither does the declaration that “he [the Son] is [estin] the image of the invisible God” somehow imply his “eternal/timeless” existence as such. The statement ‘he is the image of the invisible God’ tells us how long the Son has been the image of God no more and no less than the statement “Barack Obama is the president,” or “Paul is an apostle,” or “Jesus is the Messiah,” or “Tipton is a systematic theologian,” tells us. No theological implication can be derived from the simple English or Greek verb “is.” “Is” is simply the verb needed to identify someone as something at present. But this is a common occurrence in Trinitarian apologetics—namely, that of trying to draw profound theological implications out of ordinary, every-day Greek verbs and expressions that do not contain them.

Put simply, Colossians 1:15 does not say that the Son is the “eternal image of God” or that he is the “firstborn over all creation.” None of these nuances are found in the text, but superimposed onto the text by Tipton and other Trinitarians in order to harmonize Scripture with post-biblical doctrinal formulas.

“Significant theological and hermeneutical implications follow from Hebrews 1:1-4 and Colossians 1:15-20, which together allow us to promote Chalcedonian Christology (and ward off erroneous Christological constructions) and expand the vistas of Reformed biblico-systematic theology with its special interest in redemptive history.”

Why would Christians want to promote “Chalcedonian Christology” when we have the far wiser option of simply pointing to or reiterating the “Christology” (doctrine of Christ) already articulated by Christ himself and the writers of Scripture? Jesus is the “reflection” or “radiance” of God’s “glory,” the “exact representation” of his very “being,” “the first born of all creation” and “the image of the invisible God”—genuine scriptural “creeds” that really do speak for themselves.

“The preexistence of the Son of God in Hebrews 1:3 and Colossians 1:15 relates core concerns of Chalcedon to christocentic eschatology. The Son’s preexistence, particularly his homoousios with the Father and monogonese from the Father (Heb. 1:3), supplies the deepest Christological rationale for the realized eschatology in the book of Hebrews. In this connection we can discern from these texts the deepest possible relationship between Chalcedonian orthodoxy and biblical theology.”

The homoousious concept is absent from Scripture; yet Tipton refers to it casually as if it were a scriptural doctrine. The “relationship” between “Chalcedonian orthodoxy” and “biblical theology” Tipton hopes to establish automatically shows that they are not one and the same thing. The concepts found in “Chalcedonian orthodoxy” are products of post-biblical theology and interpretation, not doctrines clearly taught by Jesus or his apostles in Scripture.

In a complementary way, Paul’s Christology in Colossians 1:15-18 enables us to articulate the communicatio idiomatum [‘sharing of attributes’] in categories derived from the interface between the preexistence and postexistence of the Son of God. For instance, the Son of God is both the one by whom all things were created (16), as well as the beginning of the new creation as resurrected (18a);

The “communicatio idiomatum” concept is, likewise, a theological invention, nowhere to be found in Scripture. Colossians 1:16 does not say that the Son was the one “by” whom all things were created but the one “in” and “through” whom all things were created. This is not merely a “distinction without a difference” or a trivial quarrelling over words. As N.T. Wright pointed out in the conservative Tyndale Commentaries: “All that God made, he made by means of him. Paul actually says ‘in him,’ and, though the word en can mean ‘by’ as well as ‘in,’ it is better to retain the literal translation than to paraphrase as NIV has done. Not only is there an intended parallel with verse 19, which would otherwise be lost: the passive ‘were created’ indicates, in a typically Jewish fashion, the activity of God the Father, working in the Son. To say ‘by’, here and at the end of verse 16, could imply, not that Christ is the Father’s agent, but that he was alone responsible for creation.”

…he is both the firstborn over all creation and the firstborn from among the dead (15b and 18b). How do these observations enable us to articulate the communicatio idiomatum? When we predicate something of Jesus’ person, such as creation (15b-16), we do so with special reference to the Son’s divine nature as the eternal Son of God. And when we predicate of his person a new state into which he entered as resurrected (18), we do so with special reference to his transformed human nature as Second Adam (cf. 1 Cor. 15:44bff.). This is a distinctively redemptive-historical way of expressing Chalcedonian Christology that relates the implications of the unipersonality and dual natures of the Son of God to the eschatological outcome of his resurrection.”

There is, put simply, no doctrine of the “communicatio idiomatum” present in any of these scriptural statements, and no doctrine of Christ’s “dual natures.” Surprisingly, although profound theological concepts like these are given so much priority by systematic theologians like Tipton, none of them can be supported by one clear scriptural statement.

In the concluding section of his article, Tipton is critical toward “systematic theologians” who disagree with his theological tradition. Although Tipton rightly recognizes that the “perennial problem” confronting systematic theologians is their “tendency toward abstraction and philosophical speculation,” and how often their proposals arise from “speculative and essentially unbiblical categories,” the point is made, ironically, as if Tipton himself “exegetes” the texts in question in either biblical language, categories, or terms (as opposed to ‘philosophical’ and ‘speculative’ ones), when he clearly does not. But Tipton claims:

Biblical truth offers not merely a path of exploration that allows us to expand the vistas of biblico-systematic theology, but a fortress to be defended against the onslaught of heterodox hermeneutical and theological proposals that owe much more to Athens than Jerusalem.

These are, by far, some of the most remarkable of Tipton’s statements, in terms of their outstandingly self-contradictory nature. It is well established and often admitted by the most conservative New Testament scholars, that the classical creedal terms/concepts necessary to articulate the Trinitarian doctrine of God were derived from non-biblical, Greek, philosophical thought-forms and categories—from “Athens” not “Jerusalem.” How Tipton can direct criticism toward those who promote unbiblical ‘speculations’ and ‘abstractions,’ at the close of a twenty-five-page-article in which Tipton engages in this very practice (in defense of a tradition widely-recognized for abstract and speculative thought), is difficult to comprehend.

Consider, first, the kind of language and theological concepts/categories used and already presumed to be true, yet which were entirely foreign and unknown to the biblical prophets, the Messiah, the apostles, and entirely alien to the Scriptures discussed in Tipton’s study (Col. 1:15-20; Heb. 1:1-4).

Remarkably, in this twenty-five page article, Jesus Christ is formally defined and presumed by Tipton to be the “eternal Son of God” a total of thirty-five times. This is in noticeable contrast to the language of the scriptural accounts where, although Jesus is formally marked out as the “Son of God” in numerous instances (even spoken of as one who has the kind of life that was ‘granted’ to him by his Father), he is never described as, or qualified with the words, “eternal Son of God”—a description simply alien to the biblical writings. Nor are there Scriptures in existence that teach or articulate the notion that the Son of God is “eternal” (without a beginning of existence), or the post-New Testament doctrine of an “eternal generation.” Most of Tipton’s “exegesis” of Colossians 1:15-20 and Hebrews 1:1-4, in fact, flows from the unfounded and scripturally-unarticulated assumption that Jesus is an “eternal second person” of a “triune God”—a concept that simply never appears in Scripture, a concept nowhere discussed by Jesus or his apostles, and a concept nowhere to be found in the first chapters of Hebrews or Colossians.

Strangely, in spite of his pointed criticism, Tipton—throughout the entirety of his preceding argument—advances scores of ‘abstract,’ philosophically-loaded theological terms, concepts, and ‘speculations,’ all infused with unfounded theological assumptions nowhere to be found or even discussed in Scripture.

That is, for Tipton, Jesus is not simply the scriptural “Christ, the Son of the living God,” but the theological “eternal Son of God” in light of his alleged “pretemporal existence as the second person of the ontological Trinity.” Though never mentioned in Scripture, additional reference is made by Tipton to the “opera Dei ad extra or economic aspect of the Trinity,” the “essential deity of the eternal Son of God,” the Son’s “eternal ontic status,” his “essential deity and coequality with the Father,” his “eternal status as homoousios (‘of the same substance/being’)” as God the Father, the “prelapsarian activity of the eternal Son,” his so-called “eternal generation” and “consubstantial relation to the Father,” and the corresponding “eternal relationship of the Father to the Son.”

Further reference is made to “the uncreated Son,” the doctrine of the “communicatio idiomatum,” the “dual natures of the Son of God,” “the eternal Son of God, coequal with the Father” who is nevertheless “hypostatically distinct from him,” the Son’s alleged status as the “eternal, firstborn Son (Meredith G. Kline)” and as “the second person of the Trinity, being very and eternal God,” and other non-biblical expressions like “the third person of the ontological Trinity,” “the second and third persons of the Trinity,” and “the classical distinction between the ontological and economic aspects of the Trinity”—all, of course, doctrines, distinctions, concepts, and complex theological nuances nowhere articulated in Scripture.

As one example of what is widely recognized, Professor of Systematic Theology Shirley C. Guthrie (from the same religious tradition as Tipton) freely acknowledged: “The Bible does not teach the doctrine of the Trinity. Neither the word ‘trinity’ itself nor such language as ‘one-in-three,’ ‘three-in-one,’ one ‘essence’ (or ‘substance’), and three ‘persons’ is biblical language.” Guthrie’s observation is correct. He is also correct in noting further that the “language of the doctrine [Tipton’s ‘homoousios,’ for example], is the language of the ancient church, taken not from the Bible but from classical Greek philosophy.”

This is a true and eye-opening admission by a reputable scholar within Tipton’s very own theological tradition. Yet this kind of non-biblical terminology and these kinds of concepts (some having there origins in ‘Greek philosophy’) appear all throughout Tipton’s article on Hebrews 1:1-4 and Colossians 1:15-20, to an excessive degree.

Colossians 1:15-20 and Hebrews 1:1-4 do nothing to support “Nicene,” “Chalcedonian” or “Reformed” confessional orthodoxy. They only confirm that Jesus is what he is described as elsewhere in Scripture, namely, as the scripturally foretold “Christ” and “Son of the living God,” not as a mysterious and metaphysical “God the Son” and “second person” of a so-called “Trinity.” Together, these Scriptures speak in harmonious accord in their exaltation of the “beloved Son” of God as the “reflection” of the “invisible” God’s “glory,” as God’s “image,” and as “the exact representation of his very being.”

The current version of the story Is as follows Erasmus is supposed to have replied to the criticism which was directed against him because of his omission, by proposing to include it if a single Greek manuscript could be brought forward as evidence When such a manuscript was produced, lie is said to have kept his word, even though from the outset he was suspicious that the manuscript had been written in order to oblige hum to include the Comma Johanneum. We cite the version of the story given by Bruce M Metzger, since his work, thanks to its obvious qualities, has become an influential handbook and is in many respects representative of the knowledge of New Testament textual history among theologians “In an unguarded moment Erasmus promised that he would insert the Comma Johanneum, as it is called, in future editions if a single Greek manuscript could be found that contained the passage At length such a copy was found or was made to order it. As it now appears, the Greek manuscript had probably been written in Oxford about 1520 by a Franciscan friar named Froy (or Roy), who took the disputed words from the Latin Vulgate Erasmus stood by his promise and inserted the passage in his third edition (1522), but lie indicates in a lengthy footnote his suspicions that the manuscript had been prepared expressly in order to confute hum”‘.

This version of events has been handed down and disseminated for more than a century and a half by the most eminent critics and students of the text of the New Testament, for example S P Tregelles (1854), F J A Hort (1881)4, F H A Scrivener (1883)5, B F Westcott (1892)6, A Bludau (1903)’, Eb Nestle (1903)’, C H Turner (1924)’ and F G Kenyon (1901, 1912/1926)’. The same tradition has also been disseminated in a number of works intended for a wider public interested in the textual transmission of the Bible or other ancient literature, for example in the works of W A Copinger (1897)”, T H Darlow and H F Motile (1903)12, L D Reynolds and N G Wilson (1974)13 and J Finegan (1974/5)14 The story of the way Erasmus is said to have honoured his promise is also handed down in the hteratuie which refers specifically to the humanist himself, for example by P S Allen (1910)’ and by the authors of such excellent biographies as those by Preseived Smith (1923) ” and R H Bainton (1969) ” How often must those who lecture in the New Testament or textual criticism at universities the world over have passed on the story of the good faith with which a deceived Erasmus kept his word, to the students in their lecture halls’ The writer of these lines cannot plead innocence in this respect.

Yet there are a number of difficulties in the story of Erasmus’ promise and its consequences, which arouse a certain suspicion of its truthfulness. In the first place it is remarkable that there is no trace of this tradition in the works of the great experts in the history of the text of the New Testament in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries We find not a word of it in Richard Simon’s Histone critique du these du Nouveau Testament (1689) even though a special chapter of this work (ch. xvni) is devoted to the Comma Johanneum John Mills too is completely silent about Erasmus’ promise, although in paragraph 1 138 of the Prolegomena to his Novum Testamentum Graecum he refers specifically to the inclusion of the Comma Johanneum in the third edition of Erasmus’ New Testament He even adds the interesting detail that Erasmus included the Comma Johanneum as early as June 1521, in a separate edition of his Latin translation published by Froben at Basle This detail is important because it helps to determine the period of time within which Erasmus must have become aware of the Comma Johanneum in Greek He was still unaware of it in May 1520 when he wrote his apologia Libei to this against Edward Lee. Thus, he must have received evidence of the passage between May 1520 and June 1521. It is not known who brought it to his attention. Not only do Simon and Mills make no reference to Erasmus’ promise, J Clericus does not mention it, either in his Ais Cittica (1696, often reprinted) or his commentary on I John 5,7 (17142). Nor do we find it in J J Wettstein  (1751/2), Jle Long C F Boeiner A G Masch (1788/90)”, J D Michaelis (1788)20, G W Meyer (1802/9)21, J Townley  (the author of Biblical Ane(dotes, 1821)22 or in T F Dibdin (1827)22.

The earliest reference to Erasmus’ promise of which I am aware is that of T H Horne in 1818-24. It remains unclear from which source Horne delved his information. He was too scrupulous a critic to raise any suspicion that he was the inventor of the whole story. Moreover, Horne himself published a list of mole than fifty volumes, pamphlets of crucial notices on the Comma Johanneum which had appealed up to his time’s He may thus very well have derived the details from a predecessor but it is scarcely feasible to go through all his material again. A second difficulty is that in the retelling of the story of Erasmus’ supposed promise, there are striking variations Some authors, such as Hoinc, Darlow and Moule, Kenyon and Turner, relate that Erasmus made this promise in the controversy with his Spanish opponent Jacobus Lopis Stunica. Others, among them Bludau and Bamton, say that the promise was given to his English assailant Edward Lee Yet others write, without making a clear distinction, that Erasmus gave his promise in reaction to the catechisms of both Lee and Stunica, while others again leave it indeterminate, to whom the promise was directed.

Now it is completely impossible that Erasmus could have given his pledge to Stunica, for he did not address himself to the Spaniard until his Apologia…of September 1521 2G In this apologia he explains, in dealing with 1 John 5, that he had received a transcript of the Comma Johanneum, from a Codex Britannicus, and had inserted it into the text of 1 John, which was shortly to appear in a new impression of his Novum Testamentum (15223). Therefore, Erasmus can hardly have given Stunica any promise containing the condition, if a single Greek manuscript with the Comma Johanneum is found”. Nor did Erasmus give such a promise to Lee at least not in any of the surviving correspondence 2′ or apologias 2s in which the Rotterdammer addressed Lee.

A third problem is that the famous promise of Erasmus is not to be found anywhere else in his oeuvre It is thus not surprising that, with one exception, none of the authors known to me who relate the story, refer to a specific passage in Erasmus or in other sixteenth-century literature, where such a pledge is to be found. The only exception is Bainton, who himself seems to have become suspicious and eventually includes a reference to a passage which is by no means a promise, as will be clear from what follows”.

It is naturally exceptionally difficult, if not impossible in principle to furnish conclusive proof that someone did not say something. Yet in my opinion there is sufficient reason to assume that Erasmus, when he chose to insert the Comma Johanneum, did not feel himself constrained by any promise. He explained on several occasions what had led him to include this passage in his third edition He did so `so that no one would have occasion to criticize me out of malice”…or as he expressed it in his Annotationes on 1 John 5, 7…

It should be borne in mind that Lee had written that the omission of the Comma Johanneum brought with it the danger of a new revival of Arianism This was of course a very serious insinuation Erasmus had reason to fear that if he were suspected of heretical sympathies, his Novum Testamentum would miss its exalted goal. This Novum Testamentum was not in the first place intended as an edition of the Greek New Testament, as is incorrectly assumed. It was, in Erasmus’ intention, in the first place a new, modern and readable translation of the New Testament into Latin The function of the Greek text was secondary it was to show that Erasmus’ new version rested on a firm foundation and that it was not Just a reckless search for novelty. By his new translation Erasmus hoped to make the words of Christ and the apostles accessible to a wide circle in clear and easily understood prose. He wished to fill the world with the philosophta Christ, the simple pious and practical Christianity which would best serve the world. To achieve this, as many people as possible had to read the New Testament.

But not the Vulgate which was full of all sorts of obscurities; a new, more readable and clearer translation was necessary, and that was Erasmus’ Novum Instrumentum from 1519 entitled Novum Tcstamuitum. The goal of Erasmus undertaking to imbue all Europe with a clear and simple gospel threatened to fail if Erasmus himself were tinged with any suspicion of unorthodoxy. For the sake of his ideal Erasmus chose to avoid any occasion for slander rather than persisting in philological accuracy and thus condemning himself to impotence. That was the reason why Erasmus included the Comma Johanneum even though he remained convinced that it did not belong to the original text of 1 John.

The real reason which induced Erasmus to include the Comma Johanneum was thus clearly his care for his good name and for the success of his Novum Tcstamcntum. How then did the famous story arise of his promise and the way in which he honored it? It is likely that it grew out of a misinterpretation of a passage in his Rcsponsio ad Annotationcs Eduaich Lci of May 15203 Lee was a truly quarrelsome individual a myopically conservative theologian later archbishop of York who troubled and pestered. Erasmus for several years with his criticisms which were unusually mediocre of the Novum Inbtiumuttum Lee was one of several critics who had remarked on the absence of the Comma Johamuum in the first two editions. In 1520 Erasmus felt himself obliged to snake a detailed reply to Lee In his lengthy discussion of 1 John 5.7…

If a single manuscript had come into my hands in which stood what we read (Sc in the Latin Vulgate) then I would certainly have used it to fill in what was missing in the other manuscripts I had Because that did not happen I have taken the only course which was permissible that is I have indicated (se in the Annotations) what was missing from the Greek manuscripts. This is the passage which Bainton regarded as containing the promise which Erasmus is supposed to have redeemed later. It is to Banton s credit that he at least tried to find the promise somewhere in Erasmus works no other author so far as I am aware took this trouble. Still no such promise can be read into the passage cited It is a retrospective report of what Erasmus had done in 1516 and 1519 If he had had a Greek manuscript with the Comma Johanncum then he would have included the Comma. But he had not found a single such manuscript and consequently he omitted the Comma Johanneum. This is not a promise but a justification after the event of what had happened cast in the unfulfilled conditional. It is not impossible that another passage in Erasmus apologia against Lee played a part and gave reason for a misunderstanding. It was with particular reference to Erasmus omission of the Comma Johanneum that Lee had charged him with indolence (“supinitas”). According to Lee, Erasmus might very well have had, by some chance, a manuscript which gave an abbreviated text of 1 John 5,7-8, but he ought not to have published, on two occasions, the mutilated text of this manuscript, without consulting other manuscripts. Lee here suggests that Erasmus, if he had looked at other codices, would certainly have found a copy which contained the Comma Johanneum, but that he had been remiss in not doing so In his answer to this charge Erasmus explains that he consulted not just one but many manuscripts in England, Brabant and Basle, none of which contained the Comma Johanneum. He continues…”What sort of indolence is that, if I did not consult the manuscripts which I could not manage to haves At least, I collected as many as I could Let Lee produce a Greek manuscript in which is written the words lacking in my edition, and let him prove that I had access to this manuscript, and then let him accuse me of indolence”.

Nor can this passage be interpreted as a promise by Erasmus to include the Comma Johanncum if it is shown to him in a single Greek manuscript Erasmus is here defending himself against the accusation of having deliberately neglected to search for Greek manuscripts in which the Comma Johanncum occurs. The accusation of Stunica was thus, according to Erasmus, premature Let Lee first prove that Erasmus neglected a manuscript containing the Comma Johanneum. If Lee can prove this negligence, with the evidence, then and only then will Erasmus accept Lee’s accusation of Stunica Erasmus does not say that if Lee can prove this negligence, he will include the Comma Johanneum but only that in such a case… Erasmus is not thinking of the possibility that he would have to insert the Comma Johanneum, for he regarded it as completely out of the question that the Comma should turn up in any Greek manuscript The only point he is making is let Lee first prove my point, and then he can accuse me of it. The passage therefore does not contain any promise, but an exhortation to prove the truth of an accusation before making it.

Another misunderstanding deserves to be corrected. As we showed above, Erasmus received a Greek text of the Comma Johanneum at some time between May 1520 and June 1521. This text had been copied from a Codex Britannicus also named, after a later owner, Codex Montfortianus, and now at Trinity College, Dublin (A 421), and designated as minuscule Gregory 61 It is as good as certain, as J R Harris demonstrated, that this manuscript was produced to order. Many writers on this subject, for example Tregelles, Kenyon and Metzger, assert that Erasmus himself suspected at the time that the Codex Britannicus had been produced to oblige him to include the Comma Johanneum. This is again a version of events which does not seem to be based on any passage in Erasmus’ printed works or letters. It is true that Erasmus assumed that the Codex Britannicus was “recens”. But so far as I am aware, his writings do not contain any expression from which it would appear that he suspected that the Codex Britannicus had been written especially to induce him to include the Comma Johanneum. The confusion presumably arose from a misunderstanding of a remark which Erasmus made in his first apologia against Stunica, and repeated in his Annotations on 1 John 5. After declaring that now that the Comma Johanneum had been brought to his attention, in Greek, in a Codex Britannicus, he would include it on the basis of that manuscript, he wrote…”Although I suspect this manuscript, too, to have been revised after the manuscripts of the Latin world”.

Erasmus does not mean by this that the Codex Britannicus was interpolated to invalidate his own reading He means that the Codex, like many other manuscripts, contained a text which had been revised after, and adapted to, the Vulgate. This was one of Erasmus’ stock theories, to which he repeatedly referred in evaluating Greek manuscripts of the New Testament. He regarded manuscripts which deviated from the Byzantine text known to him, and showed parallels with the Vulgate, as having been influenced by the Vulgate”. Erasmus believed that the Ecumenical Council of Ferrara and Florence (1438-45), whose chief object had been the reunion of the Latin and Greek churches, had decided in favor of adapting the Greek manuscripts to the Vulgate In 1527 he commented on the adaptation of Greek manuscripts to the Latin as follows…”It should be pointed out here in passing, that certain Greek manuscripts of the New Testament have been corrected in agreement with those of the Latin Christians. This was done at the time of the reunion of the Greeks and the Roman church. This union was confirmed in writing in the so-called Golden Bull It was thought that this (sc the adaptation of the Greek biblical manuscripts to the Latin) would contribute to the strengthening of unity We too once came across a manuscript of this nature”, and it is said that such a manuscript is still preserved in the papal library written in majuscule characters”. The manuscript to which Erasmus refers at the end of this passage is the Codex Vaticanus pat excellence, now Gr 1209, designated as B40 Erasmus regarded the text of this codex as influenced by the Vulgate and therefore inferior. For the same reasons he had earlier, in 1515/6, also excluded Gregory I as an inferior manuscript, from the constitution of the Greek text of his own Novum Instiumentum although this manuscript is now generally regarded as more reliable than the codices which Erasmus preferred and made use of Erasmus passed the same verdict on the Codex Rhodiensis (minuscule Wettstein Paul 50 =Apostolos 52) from which Stunted cited readings in his polemic against Erasmus.

Erasmus’ view, according to which Greek manuscripts had been adapted to Latin, was indeed applicable to the Codex Britannicus the Comma Johanneum was no more than retroversion of the Vulgate. But for most other manuscripts…The Bulla aura of the Council of Ferrara and Florence says nothing at all of any decision to revise Greek biblical manuscripts in accordance with the Vulgate. In 1534 Erasmus admitted that he had not read the bull himself, but only knew its content from hearsay. He maintained, however, that even if the bull did not say anything about the intended latinisation of Greek manuscripts, this latinisation had in fact been carried out in some cases.

However erroneous Erasmus’ theory of the latinisation of Greek manuscripts may be in general, from an historical viewpoint it has played an important role. When J J Wettstein was working on his great edition of the New Testament which eventually appeared in 1751/2 he became increasingly convinced that the text of most of the old Greek codices was influenced by the old Latin translation

He subscribed to Erasmus’ evaluation of codex B and minuscule 1, but he also extended the theory to the majority of the old codices, among others, A, B, C, D’, DP, FP, Ke, Le, min 1, 3 etc. He regarded all these manuscripts as unusable for the constitution of the text of the New Testament. Wettstein’s title to fame was formed by his excellent presentation of the copious text-critical material which he had collected, as well as by his commentary, but not by his insight into the history of the text.

It is time that Erasmus repeatedly disqualified the Codex Vaticanus as a latinising textual witness. Yet it should be pointed out nonetheless, that Erasmus was also the first scholar who appealed to the Codex Vaticanus for critical purposes. On 18 June 1521, Paul Bombasius, the secretary of the influential cardinal Lorenzo Pucci at Rome, sent a letter to Erasmus containing a copy of 1 John 4, 1-3 and 5,7-11 from the Codex Vatieanus. In his Annotations, on 1 John 5,7 Erasmus later stated that the Comma Johanneum was missing from the Codex Vaticanus, according to a transcript which Bombasius had made at his, Erasmus’, request (meo 1•ogo1u). It appears from this that Erasmus himself had asked Bombasius to verify the passage in question in the Codex Vaticanus. It is with Erasmus that the Codex Vaticanus began to play a role in the textual criticism of the New Testament. Again, Erasmus also suspected the Codex Britannicus of having undergone the influence of the Vulgate. It cannot, however, be shown from Erasmus’ writings, that he ever considered the Codex Britannicus as a product specially prepared to induce him to include the Comma Johanneum.

Conclusions

(1) The current view that Erasmus promised to insert the Comma Johanneum if it could be shown to hum in a single Greek manuscript, has no foundation in Erasmus’ works. Consequently it is highly improbable that he included the disputed passage because he considered himself bound by any such promise.

(2) It cannot be shown from Erasmus’ works that he suspected the Codex Britannicus (nun 61) of being written with a view to force him to include the Comma Johanneum.

Zeemanlaan 47           

Henk Jan DE JONGF,

2313 SW Leiden,

the Netherlands.

In an incident towards the end of Jesus’ ministry as recorded in the Fourth Gospel, he speaks of his shortly being `lifted up from the earth’, and the Jerusalem crowd replies, `We have heard from the law that the Christ remains forever. How can you say that the Son of man must be lifted up? Who is this Son of man?’ (Jn. 12:34).

The Johannine idiom in this interchange is readily recognized. The double entendre of the verb `lift up’ is characteristic of this evangelist. Moreover, there are two surprising features in the crowd’s response. Jesus had not said, in the immediately preceding context, `the Son of man will be lifted up’ but `when I am lifted up’ (Jn. 12:32). He had, however, said in verse 23, `The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified’, and in earlier situations in this Gospel he had spoken of the lifting up of the Son of man (Jn. 3:14; 8:28). From this it might be gathered that his being glorified and his being lifted up are identical. So, indeed, they are: we are dealing with two different ways of expressing the same idea. It is plain from some of the contexts in which the lifting up of the Son of man is mentioned that the verb (Gk. hypsoo) refers also to Jesus’ being literally `lifted up’ on the cross. And the context in which he says, `The hour has come for the Son of man to be glorified’ (Jn. 12:23), makes it clear that here too the crucifixion is meant.

Also, and even more surprisingly, the crowd seems to identify the Son of man with the Christ or the Messiah, although Jesus has not spoken about the Messiah. To Christians, who believed Jesus to be the Messiah and who were familiar with his use of the term ‘the Son of man’, the equation `The Messiah = the Son of man’ came naturally; here there may be an antedating of this equation into the setting of Jesus’ ministry. Certainly there is no reason to suppose that at the time of the ministry the expression `the Son of man’ was current in Judaism as a synonym of `the Messiah’. Nevertheless the crowd’s question, `Who is this Son of man?’ was a natural one to ask, and may still be asked by readers of the Gospels as they are repeatedly confronted by it.

`The Son of man’ in the Gospels

All four of the evangelists regard `the Son of man’ as a self-designation of Jesus. Sometimes, indeed, a comparison of Gospels or Gospel sources indicates that on his lips it could be taken as a periphrasis for T. The Marcan form of his question at Caesarea Philippi, `Who do men say that I am?’ (Mk. 8:27; cf. Lk. 9:18), is replaced in Mat 16:13 by `Who do men say that the Son of man is?’ On the other hand, `I’ may appear as a later re-wording of `the Son of man’. The Lucan form of another saying of Jesus, ‘everyone who acknowledges me before men, the Son of man also will acknowledge before the angels of God’ (Lk. 12:8), has a Matthaean counterpart with the simple pronoun: everyone who acknowledges me before men, I also will acknowledge before my Father who is in heaven’ (Mt.           10:32; the locution `my Father who is in heaven’ is distinctively Matthaean). But the following words in Matthew, whoever denies me before men, I also will deny before my Father who is in heaven’ (Mt. 10:33), correspond to a Marcan saying in which it is the Son of man who will be ashamed of those who are ashamed of Jesus and his words `in this adulterous and sinful generation’ (Mk. 8:38; cf. Lk. 9:26).

This oscillation between `I’ and `the Son of man’ is sufficient to make the reader stop and ask before each `Son of man’ saying in the Synoptic record, `Is this original, or has it replaced an earlier “I”?’ However, even when allowance has been made for the possibility of a change from ‘I’ to ‘the Son of man’, the fact that sometimes the change seems to have worked the other way confirms the impression made by the spread of the designation `the Son of man’ – the impression that, not only in the Gospels as they stand but in the tradition behind them, `the Son of man’ was a distinctive locution of Jesus, one which he used as a self-designation.

The criteria of authenticity invoked by proponents of modern redaction criticism of the Gospels are not so conclusive as is sometimes supposed; but if one of them, the `criterion of dissimilarity’, be applied to the occurrences of `the Son of man’, the conclusion seems plain (although indeed a number of redaction critics would not concede its validity in this instance).’ Here is a locution unparalleled in the Judaism of the period and one which, outside the Gospel tradition, was not current in the early church. Its claim to be recognized as an authentic vox Christi is thus remarkably strong.

It has often been pointed out that the Greek phrase translated `the Son of man’ in the Gospels, ho huios tou anthropou, means literally `the son of the man’, which would naturally prompt the question: `the son of which man?’ But no such question is prompted by the phrase as used in the Gospels, where it is a conventional rendering of an Aramaic expression, probably barendsa. But bar ‘enasa is the regular Aramaic form for `the man’, `the human being’ or even, when the emphatic state (rendered in English by means of the definite article) is used generically, `a man’. (We may compare John the Baptist’s words in Jn. 3:27 NIV: `a man can receive only what is given him from heaven.’) It is argued by M. Casey that this construction and meaning lie behind the Gospel use of ho huios tou anthr”opou, the speaker saying something which is true of a man generically and applying it to himself. Thus the statement of Mark 14:2, `the Son of man goes as it is written of him’, could have originated in Jesus’ application to himself of the general principle that `a man goes (to death) as it is written of him’ (cf. Heb. 9:27, `it is appointed for men to die once’).’ G. Vermes has argued, more generally, that the Gospel use goes back to the circumlocution use of bar fenasa (`the man’, this man’) as a substitute for the pronoun `I’, `me’.’

There are indeed some passages in the Gospels where `the Son of man’ on the lips of Jesus seems to mean little more than `I’ – for example, when he compares himself with his forerunner in the words: `John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine;…the Son of man has come eating and drinking … ‘(Lk. 7:33f.; cf. Mt. 11:18f.). Again, there is reason to think here and there that the Greek rendering ho huios tou anthropou has been used where bar nasa meant simply `man’ – for example, a comparison of the Q saying in Luke 12:10 with its Marcan counterpart in Mark 3:28-30 (the two are conflated in Mt. 12:31f.) suggests that in the original form Jesus contrasted the venial sin of speaking against men with the `eternal sin’ of speaking against the Holy Spirit; the Son of man’ in the distinctive sense of the expression is not in view. There are, however, two outstanding situations in which the Son of man (in the distinctive use of the phrase) figures. One of these is his appearing in glory; the other is his suffering.

His appearing in glory In the Olivet discourse it is said that, after the great tribulation which leads up to the end-time, they will see the Son of man coming in clouds with great power and glory. And then he will send out the angels, and gather his elect …’(Mk. 13:26f.). It is difficult to avoid the conclusion that the Son of man coming in clouds harks back to the `one like a son of man’ (Aram. kebar ienas) who, in Daniel’s vision of the Day of Judgment, comes `with the clouds of heaven’ to be continuing with him in his trials. We recall his assurance to James and John, when they professed themselves ready to drink his cup and share his baptism, that they would indeed do so (Mk. 10:38f.). But when his trial reached its climax, they proved unable to stand the test. T. W. Manson remarked that, if it had been James and John, and not the two robbers, that were crucified with Jesus, ‘one on his right and one on his left’, their request to be enthroned on either side of him (Mk. 10:37) would have been fulfilled and the church’s formulation of the doctrine of the atonement might have been somewhat different from what it has been. As it was, Jesus himself at the time fulfilled single-handed `everything that is written of the Son of man’ (Lk. 18:31). The time was to come, however, when he would return from death to gather his demoralized followers together again and lead them as before and associate” them even more closely with himself in his continuing ministry. `The aliveness of Christ,’ says C. F. D. Moule, `existing transcendentally beyond death, is recognized as the prior necessity for the community’s corporate existence, and as its source and origin.” Positive evidence is lacking that Jesus ever included his followers in the concept of the Son of man, but he did attach them as firmly as possible to the Son of man.

His suffering in these last paragraphs we have already begun to refer to the suffering Son of man. Alongside those sayings which reflect Daniel’s vision of `one like a son of man’ who receives sovereign authority from God, there is a group of sayings, especially in the Marcan record, which speak of the Son of man as suffering. In this record, from the Caesarea Philippi incident onward, Jesus emphasizes repeatedly that `the Son of man must suffer many things’ (Mk. 8:31; 9:31; cf. 10:33). The necessity of the Son of man’s suffering lies in its being the subject-matter of Scripture: Jesus’ consciousness that his own deliberately chosen mission was in accordance with what was written confirmed his resolution to submit to arrest in Gethsemane with the words: `Let the scriptures be fulfilled’ (Mk. 14:49). The other Synoptic evangelists bear similar testimony: Luke, for example, inserts into his description of the lightning-like appearance of the Son of man `in his day’ the caveat: `But first he must suffer many things and be rejected by this generation’ (Lk. 17:25). The fourth evangelist brings the two groups of Son of man sayings together in his distinctive idiom. For him the crucifixion of Jesus is the `lifting up’ (hypsosis) or ‘glorifying’ of the Son of man; it is the moment of disclosure, when the disciples will ‘see heaven opened, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of man’ (Jn. 1:51).

But in the Synoptic records the two groups of passages remain separated. There is no difficulty in seeing the influence of Daniel 7:13f on those which speak of the Son of man’s glorious advent and judicial authority; but `how is it written of the Son of man, that he should suffer many things and be treated with contempt?’ (Mk. 9:12). Many have seen a pointer to answering this question in Mark 10:45, where Jesus sets an example before his disciples by impressing on them that `the Son of man also came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many’. This saying is reproduced verbatim in Matthew 20:28, but is missing from the parallel context in Luke 18 (between verses 34 and 35). Luke has indeed a parallel elsewhere, in the context of the Last Supper, but it is not a Son of man saying and makes no reference to a ransom (Lk. 22:27, ’1 am among you as one who serves’).

The wording of the Son of man saying in Mark 10:45 has often been held to reflect that of the fourth Isaianic Servant Song (Isa 52:13-53:12). It does not, strictly, reflect its wording but it does reflect its thought. The word for `serve’ in Mark 10:45 (diakoneo) is not that used to render Hebrew `ebed in the Servant Song (ho Pais mou, Isa 52:13, Lxx; douleuo, Isa 53:11, Lxx), and the word for `ransom’ in Mark 10:45 (lytron) is not used to render ‘afam (‘guilt-offering’) in Isaiah 5 3:10 (Lxx peri hamartias). But the sense of the saying in Mark 10:45 corresponds well to the description of the Servant’s self-giving in which he procures righteousness for ‘many’ and bears the sin of `many’ (Isa 53:11f.). The linking of this saying with Isa 52:13-53:12 has, indeed, been ably contested: it is pointed out, for example, that to give one’s life as a ransom or atonement for others was a familiar concept in the Judaism of the time, as the Maccabaean martyrologies show (cf. 2 Macc. 7:37f.; 4 Macc. 6:27-29; 17:22; 18:4). It is not suggested that either Jesus or Mark was familiar with these Greek martyrologies; on the other hand, the book of Isaiah was well known to them both.

Moreover, the Son of man’s suffering is said to be something that was `written’ concerning him. This is a reference to Hebrew Scripture, in which the books of Maccabees played no part. Where, then, in Hebrew Scripture is it written that the Son of man is to suffer? It is not so written of Daniel’s `one like a son of man’. True, his counterparts, the saints of the Most High, are targets for the assault of the `little horn’ (Dn. 7:21), and it could easily be inferred that, in a situation dominated by God-defying powers, the `one like a son of man’ would fare ill until the time of divine intervention, but the statement ‘it is written’ implies more than an inference. In any case, the `one like a son of man’ makes his appearance in Daniel’s vision at the moment of the overthrow of the God-defying powers and the vindication of righteousness, and it is probably inappropriate to import him into an earlier phase of the vision where he does not figure. Further, when the activity of the little horn is recapitulated in greater detail, and we might expect Daniel to say that he saw the little horn making war against the `one like a son of man’, he does not say so; he imports a feature from the interpretation and says that the little horn `made war with the saints’ (Dn. 7:21), as though deliberately avoiding a suggestion that the `one like a son of man’ was attacked.

This could be explained if for Daniel the `one like a son of man’ is not the symbolical personification of the saints but their heavenly representative. If we look for a figure in Hebrew Scripture who suffers many things and is treated with contempt, the righteous sufferer of Psalms and the suffering Servant of Isaiah come to mind at once. As between these two, the balance is tipped in favor of the Isaianic Servant because his sufferings, unlike those of the righteous sufferer of Psalms, are explicitly said to procure the removal of sin for others. Is the Son of man in the Gospels, then, to be equated with the Servant of Yahweh? Let it be said at this point that there is some reason to think that the Daniel texts we have been considering, and some others associated with them, had the Isaianic Servant Songs in view and were indeed intended to provide an interpretation of them. One of the designations of the faithful in the time of trial depicted in Daniel’s visions is mafkilim, the wise’ or the `teachers’ (i.e. those who acquire wisdom or those who impart it, the latter activity naturally following from the former). The reference is especially to those who communicate to others the insight which they themselves have gained into the times of the end; `none of the wicked shall understand, but the mafkllim shall understand’ (Dn. 12:10).

Daniel himself is given such insight: when Gabriel is about to impart to him the revelation of the seventy heptads, he says, ‘I have come out to make you wise (lehaskileka) … know therefore and understand (weta(kel) that … there are to be seven heptads . . . ‘(Dn. 9:22, 25). When the minds of many are shaken by the apostates, ‘those who make the people wise (ma(kile ‘am) shall make many understand’, although their faithfulness involves them in severe persecution (Dn. 11:33). So severe will the persecution be, indeed, that some even of the markilim will fall away, but their defection will but serve to refine those who remain faithful (Dn. 11:35). And when at last the righteous are delivered and the faithful departed are raised to everlasting life, `the mafkilim shall shine like the brightness of the firmament, and those who turn many to righteousness (masdige harabbim) like the stars forever and ever’ (Dn. 12:1-3).

It would be rash to draw too certain inferences from the coincidence between these instances of the hiph’il conjugation of Al and the opening words of the fourth Servant Song, hinn’eh yaskil ‘abdi, ‘behold, my servant will deal wisely’ (Isa 52:13); but that we have to do with more than a mere coincidence is suggested by the statement in Isaiah 53:11 that the Servant will by his knowledge `make the many to be accounted righteous’ (yasdiq…larabbim)-i.e. he will fulfill the role assigned to the ma.rkilim in Daniel 12:3. But if Daniel is thus providing an interpretation of the figure of the suffering Servant, it is a corporate interpretation.

To revert to the Gospels: there is one exception to the rule that when Jesus speaks of `the Son of man’ both nouns have the article (ho huios tou anthropou). The exception comes in John 5:27, where the Father delegates judicial functions to the Son, ‘because he is Son of man’ (hoti huios anthropou estin). Grammatically, this doubly anarthrous form can be adequately accounted for in terms of Colwell’s law: it is the complement with the copulative verb. But exegetically, even if there is no particle his here, it is not far-fetched to recognize a specific reference to the ‘one like a son of man’ (his huios anthropou) who is assessor to the Ancient of Days on his judgment-throne (Dn. 7:13f.).

There is, again, one exception to the rule that only in the Gospels, and only on Jesus’ lips (apart, of course, from Jn. 12:34, where the crowd takes up his own words), does the expression `the Son of man’ occur in the New Testament. The exception comes in Acts 7:56 where Stephen, at the end of his defense before the Sanhedrin, sees ‘the heavens opened, and the Son of man standing at the right hand of God’. The language resembles that of Jesus himself before the same body: in the Lucan form of his reply to the high priest Jesus says, `But from now on the Son of man shall be seated at the right hand of the power of God’ (Lk. 22:69). The change from `seated’ to `standing’ arrests the attentive reader, and points to the meaning of Stephen’s words. The Son of man is Stephen’s advocate in the presence of God, and standing is the posture proper for an advocate. Stephen, so to speak, appeals from the judgment of the earthly court to the arbitrary of the heavenly court, where the Son of man stands as his prevailing advocate. It is illuminating to read Stephen’s words against the background of the dominical logion of Luke 12:8, `every one who acknowledges me before men, the Son of man also will acknowledge before the angels of God.’

Whatever the Aramaic phrase was that Jesus used (and it can scarcely have been anything other than bar `enafa), and whatever its significance may have been, there was a time antecedent to the compilation of all our Gospels and their ascertainable sources when ho huios tou anthropou was fixed as its appropriate Greek equivalent. M. Hengel considers that `an unequivocal Christological conception’ must stand behind `this unusual translation’ and he is disposed to believe that Stephen’s vision of `the Son of man’ may have had something to do with this development.

Hengel’s understanding of the matter underlines the conclusion to which the available evidence in any case points – that `the Son of man’ was not a current title, whether for the Messiah or for any other eschatological figure. When Jewish thinkers devised a title for the figure who is brought to the Ancient of Days, it was not the Son of man but Anani (the ‘cloud-man’). There does not appear to have been any existing concept of `the Son of man’ which Jesus could have taken over and used either to identify himself or to denote a being distinct from himself.

The expression as Jesus used it was evidently original to himself: one reason for his use of it may have been precisely that it was not a current title which would already have had associations in the minds of his hearers. It could well have meant for him `the one like a son of man’ (of Daniel’s vision) but he could fill it with such further significance as he chose, and not the least part of the significance with which he filled it was the prophetic picture of the humble and suffering Servant of Yahweh. If the heavenly voice at his baptism, (Mk. 1:11) hailed him in language which he recognized as that of Isaiah 42:1, there was no problem in his associating with that scripture another which similarly begins with ‘Behold, my servant’ – the scripture which we call the fourth Servant Song. It was this that gave him the assurance that a mission involving suffering and contempt was written for `the Son of man’, and that this mission was the Father’s will for him.

Evidence from Qumran

The transition from suffering for faithfulness to exercising authority and executing judgment is well attested in the Qumran literature (from c. 130 BC onwards), and the phase of suffering for faithfulness is bound up with the portrayal of the Isaianic Servant.

The Servant Songs Shortly after the publication of the complete Isaiah scroll from Cave 1 at Qumran (IQIsa), a peculiar reading was noted in Isaiah 52:14.Of the Servant it is said there (in MT) ken mishat me’is mar ehu, `such was the marring of his appearance, beyond (that of) man.’ The common translation treats mishat as construct state of mishat, `marring’ (from root !ht), but there is an awkwardness in that the construct is separated from its following genitive by the comparative expression me’is. The same awkwardness would persist if mishat were treated (less probably) as the construct of mishah, ‘anointing’ (from root msh), the sense then being `such was the anointing of his face, beyond (that of) man’. (The awkwardness would be avoided if the word were vocalized moshat, hoph’al participle of!ht, the sense then being ‘his appearance was marred beyond that of mankind’.) In 1QIsa, however, the spelling mshty appears – i.e., probably, masahti, `I have anointed’ (perfect qal of msh). It is unlikely that the prophet meant ‘I have anointed his face beyond that of mankind’, but the curious spelling may reflect a messianic interpretation placed on the figure of the Servant by some members of the Qumran community. D. Barthelemy, indeed, one of the first scholars to draw attention to this spelling, thought it had serious claims to be regarded as original; W. H. Brownlee compared the construction with that of Psalm 45:7 (MT 8), ‘God … has anointed you with the oil of gladness above your fellows’ (mehabereka), where a royal anointing is in view.

The prophet himself, speaking perhaps in the role of the Servant, claims in Isaiah 61:1, `Yahweh has anointed me’ (m sahtan1), where a prophetic anointing is in view. But what kind of anointing was in the mind of the editor or scribe responsible for the spelling masahti in Isaiah 52:14? Perhaps a priestly anointing, in view of the following words, `so shall he sprinkle many nations.’ Brownlee rightly retained the MT reading yazzeh (‘will sprinkle’), adding that, according to his understanding of the Qumran interpretation, `the anointing of the Servant would indicate his consecration for the priestly office, so that he could “sprinkle” others.’ It may be, then, that here we have a pointer to an identification of the Servant with the expected priestly Messiah, the `Messiah of Aaron’.

But this is not the only interpretation of the Servant attested in the Qumran writings. In the H64ayot (the `Hymns of Thanksgiving’) the person who speaks in the first person singular – be he (as some have thought) the Rightful Teacher himself or some other spokesman for the community – repeatedly applies to himself the language of all four of what we have come to call the Servant Songs. From the first song (Is. 42:1) possibly comes: Thou hast shed [thy) holy spirit on thy servant (1QH 17.26).

From the second (Is. 49: lff):

For thou knowest me from (better than) my father, and from the womb [hast thou set me apartl. [Yea, from the body of J my mother hast thou dealt bountifully with me, and from the breast of her who conceived me have thy tender mercies been on me. In the bosom of my nurse [hast thou sustained me], and from my youth hast thou enlightened me in the understanding of thy judgments. With thy truth hast thou supported me firmly, and in thy holy spirit hast thou made me rejoice (1QH 9.29-32).

From the third (Is. 50:4):

My tongue is as that of those who are taught [by thee}. (1QH 7.10)

I could not raise any voice

[with the tongue of those who are taught [by thee),

to revive the spirit of the stumbling,

or to sustain with a word him that is weary.(1QH 8.35f.)

And from the fourth (Is. 5 3:4, 10):

{My} dwelling-place is with diseases, and my resting-place among those that are stricken; I am as a man forsaken (1QH 8.26f.).

Whether the composer was speaking of his personal experience or not, the community probably used these hymns in worship, as an adjunct to the canonical Psalter, and in that case each member who participated in the worship made the composer’s language his own.

There is, moreover, evidence to indicate that the Qumran community viewed itself as called corporately to fulfill the Servant’s ministry. It believed that by its painstaking study and practice of the divine law, and by its patient endurance of the persecution inflicted on it by the ungodly, it would not only secure its acceptance in God’s sight but also accumulate a store of merit sufficient to atone for people and land polluted by the dominion of the wicked.

In default of Levitical sin-offerings, sin would be atoned for ‘through an upright and humble spirit’ (1QS 3.8). When all the prescriptions of the community rule were fulfilled, `to establish a holy spirit for eternal truth, to make atonement for the guilt of rebellion and for sinful faithlessness, and to obtain favour for the land apart from the flesh of burnt-offerings and the fat of sacrifice, then the oblation of the lips according to right judgment shall be as a sweet savour of righteousness, and the perfectness of one’s ways as an acceptable freewill offering’ (1QS 9.3-5).

In the Rule of the Congregation, which envisages the new order when the rightful regime of the sons of Zadok has been restored, the members of the community are described as `the men of God’s counsel who kept his covenant in the midst of wickedness, so as to make atone{ment for the lan}d’ (1QSa. 1.1-3). With this may be compared what is said of the Servant of Yahweh in the Targum of Jonathan: ‘He will make entreaty for our trespasses and for his sake our trespasses will be forgiven; … by his instruction peace will flourish over us, and when we follow his words our trespasses will be forgiven us. All we like sheep had been scattered, each in his own way we had gone astray, and it was the Lord’s good pleasure to forgive all our trespasses for his sake’ (Tg. Isa 53:4-6). There the speakers are the people of Israel and the Servant for whose sake they have been forgiven is the Messiah; but in the Qumran texts it is not for the sake of one individual, but for the sake of the righteous community, that this forgiveness is bestowed on the nation. Nor is the community’s suffering minimized almost to the point of disappearance, as the Servant’s suffering is in the Targum.

If the whole community had its mission prescribed in terms of the ministry of the Isaianic Servant, it was possible for some smaller body, acting or speaking in the name of the community, to be referred to in similar terms.22 In one place the atoning terminology is used of the inner council of twelve laymen and three priests, who are called `a holy house for Israel, a most holy foundation for Aaron, true witnesses in judgment, the elect ones of God’s favour, to make atonement for the land and to requite the wicked with their recompense’ (1QS 8.5-7).

In the Old Testament atonement `for the land’ is necessary when it has been polluted by bloodshed, and this atonement can be made only by the blood of those responsible (Nu. 35:33). In the Song of Moses God makes atonement for his people’s land by avenging the blood of his servants at the hands of his and their enemies (Dt. 32:43).

Vindication and judgment When the inner council of the community is said to `requite the wicked with their recompense, to execute judgment on wickedness, that perversity may be no more’ (1QS 8.7, 10), it has an activity prescribed for it which cannot be paralleled in the Servant Songs. Nor can it have been possible for the inner council, or for the community as a whole, to undertake this activity in the days when it was at the mercy of its powerful opponents. But the community looked forward to a time when the roles would be reversed, when God would intervene in justice, and then it would be his chosen instrument to execute judgment on the ungodly.

It would be misleading if we said that the community believed itself called to fill the role of Daniel’s `one like a son of man’ as well as that of the Isaianic Servant, for there is no reference in the extant Qumran texts to Daniel’s `one like a son of man’, nor does `son of man’ appear anywhere in them except in the regular sense of `human being’. Nevertheless, some of the ideas associated with Daniel’s `one like a son of man’ and with `the Son of man’ in the Gospels find expression, albeit in different terminology, in the Qumran literature. Here, for example, is the Qumran commentator’s explanation of Habakkuk 1:12b (‘Thou hast ordained him to execute judgment; and thou, 0 Rock, hast established him to inflict chastisement’):

The interpretation of this is that God will not destroy his people by the hand of the nations, but into the hand of his elect will God commit the judgment of all nations, and by the chastisement which they inflict those who have kept his commandments in the time of their distress will condemn all the wicked of his people (1QpHab 5.3-6).

God’s ‘elect’- `those who have kept his commandments in the time of their distress’ – are presumably the members of the righteous community who have maintained their fidelity in spite of persecution. They are, in the words of the Community Rule, `to condemn all transgressors of the law’ as well as ‘to make atonement for all volunteers for holiness in Aaron (the priesthood) and for the house of truth in Israel (the laity)’ (1QS 5.6f.).

In the Rule of War the righteous community is the spearhead of the successful attack on the Gentile oppressors of Israel, but in the Habakkuk commentary it is plain that it will also administer final judgment on evildoers within Israel. It is not unreasonable to conclude that its members identified themselves with the `saints of the Most High’ to whom, in Daniel 7:18, 22, 27, judgment and sovereignty are given.

Melchizedek

Before we leave Qumran, we should glance at the heavenly judge Melchizedek who has given his name to the fragmentary document 11Q Melchizedek, published in 1965.24 Quoting the passages about the year of jubilee (Lv. 25:13) and the year of release (Dt. 15:2), this document understands both as references to the return from exile at the time of the end, in the tenth and last year of jubilee, `the acceptable year of the Lord’ (Is. 61:2), when the dispersed of Israel will be gathered home. The proclaimer of restoration and liberty at that time will be Melchizedek,. `for that is the epoch of Melchizedek’s “acceptable year”‘ (line 7).

A scriptural basis for Melchizedek’s heavenly ministry is sought in Psalm 82:1, `God (‘elohim) stands in the congregation of ‘El: he judges among elohim.’ Melchizedek is promoted to be president of the heavenly sits in judgment on the ‘elohim, the spirits of Belial’s lot. This related he statement of Psalm 7:8, `God (‘elohim) will judge the nations’, through the exegetical device of gezerah sawah (‘equal category’), since el occurs singular in both texts as the subject…to mean Melchizedek, to whom the Most High delegated his judicial authority). But Melchizedek’s ministry of liberation…the children of light, is celebrated in Isaiah 52:7, the mountains are the feet of him who brings glad tidings, who says to Zion, “Your “elohim reigns!”‘ Here also, as in the other two texts, the elc”rohim hizedin question is Melchizedek. By passing sentence on the hosts of Belial, inaugurates the age of liberation for the righteous. There is little enough in the two explicit references to Melchizedek in the Hebrew Bible to provide a basis for this concept…Some have tried (unsuccessfully, this conception to the portrayal in Hebrews of the Son of God, enthroned at his Father’s right hand, discharging a ministry of intercession as his people’s high priest order of Melchizedek’ (cf. Ps. 110:4). A distant parallel might be found in 4:18f. , where the proclamation of the ‘acceptable year Jesus’ ministry on earth, but the other side of the coin, vengeance of our God’, is designedly missing from Luke’s quotation of Isaiah 61: said, If. (There you are indeed, in Jn. 10:34-36, an argument based on gods”‘, but that argument bears resemblance of that of 11Q Melchizedek.)

In the Letter to the Hebrews, Melchizedek, made like the Son of God’ (Heb.7:3), is a very great man as men go, but he is not a heavenly figure and not by him that salvation and judgment are administered. The closest parallel is 1 IQ Melchizedek appear in those rabbinical texts where Melchizedek is identified with the archangel Michael, ‘head keeper of the gates of right Midrash Hanne’elam Lekh). Daniel’s `one like a son of man’ has been identified with Michael by one or two scholars, but this is not of much relevance.

Other Jewish evidence

The closest resemblances to the Gospel usage of `the Son of man’ ore found in documents neither of which is likely to have influenced Parables of Enoch (1 Enoch 37 – 71) and the Apocalypse of Ezra 2 Esdras 3-14).

The Parables of Enoch

The Parables of Enoch appear to be later than the other sections which the composite `Ethiopic Enoch’. We should be cautious in drawing any logical inferences from the absence of any part of the Parables from the Aramaic fragments of 1 Enoch which have been identified among the Qumran texts; but the comparative lateness of the Parables is suggested by their internal evidence.

In the Parables God is described as ‘one who had a head of days’ (or, more briefly, ‘the Head of days’), whose hair is white like wool (1 Enoch 46:1). This language is clearly based on Daniel 7:9, where God is seen as ‘one that was ancient of days’ with ‘the hair of his head like pure wool’. Alongside the Head of days Enoch sees ‘another being whose countenance had the appearance of a man’ (46:1). This being is referred to repeatedly in the sequel as ‘that Son of Man’ – an expression which renders three distinct phrases in the Ethiopic version (so that one may wonder about the precise Greek wording, now lost, which was so translated). It is, however, evidently the same figure that is indicated by all three Ethiopic phrases. Here, beyond doubt, we have the ‘one like a son of man’ who is brought to the Ancient of Days in Daniel 7:13; but as in Daniel ‘one like a son of man’ is not a title, so `that Son of Man’ is not a title in the Parables. ‘That Son of Man’ is simply that particular ‘Son of Man’ (human figure) whom Enoch saw in the company of the ‘Head of days’. In 1 Enoch 46:3 he is called ‘the Son of Man who has righteousness’ and is apparently identical with the being denoted elsewhere in the Parables as ‘the righteous one…whose elect works depend on the Lord of spirits’ (38:2), the ‘elect one of righteousness and faith’ who ‘dwells under the wings of the Lord of spirits’ (39:6f. ), the ‘anointed one’ (Messiah) of the Lord of spirits (48:10; 52:4). He is to be a support to the righteous and ‘a light to the nations’ (48:4; cf. what is said of the Servant in Isa 49:6), and the executioner of divine judgment on the ungodly (48:8-10).

From the beginning the Son of Man was hidden and the Most High preserved him in the presence of his might and revealed him to the elect (62:7). But on the day of visitation he comes out of his place of concealment and is manifested as vindicator of the righteous and judge of the wicked: and pain shall seize them when they see that Son of Man sitting on his throne of glory (62:5).

This Son of Man `was named before the Lord of spirits, and his name before the Head of days, before the sun and the signs were created, before the stars of heaven were made’ (48:2Q. But his name is not divulged until near the end of the Parables: then Enoch is translated to heaven and welcomed by God in the words: `You are the Son of Man born for righteousness; righteousness abides over you, and the righteousness of the Head of days does not forsake you’ (71:14).

The relation borne by the Son of Man in the Parables of Enoch to the community of righteous and elect ones is comparable to that borne by Daniel’s `one like a son of man’ to the saints of the Most High. If he is righteous, so are they (38: lff. etc.); if he is elect, so are they (38:3, etc.). While hidden in God’s presence from all eternity, he takes historical form on earth from time to time in someone who is outstandingly righteous, such as Enoch. If in another section of 1 Enoch the patriarch is commissioned; because of his righteousness, to pronounce God’s judgment on the disobedient angels, in the Parables he has been chosen, for the same reason, to pronounce judgment on all the ungodly at the time of the end.

The identification of the Son of Man with Enoch (which may be compared with Enoch’s portrayal as the Servant of the Lord in Wisdom 4:10-15 is evidence enough that in the Parables we are not dealing with a Christian work. Yet there are some verbal links between the tradition which finds expression in the Parables and certain strands of the Gospel tradition, especially the distinctively Matthaean strand. We recall Matthew 19:28, where the Q promise that Jesus’ followers will `sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel’ (cf. Lk. 22:30) finds its fulfillment `in the new world (palingenesia), when the Son of man sits on his throne of glory’, or the similar words at the beginning of the judgment scene of Matthew 25:31-46: `When the Son of man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then will he sit on his throne of glory.’ So in the Parables of Enoch the Day of Judgment dawns when `that Son of Man’ is seen `sitting on his throne of glory’, having been installed there by the Lord of spirits.

The Apocalypse of Ezra

It is certainly’ to the period following AD 70 that the Apocalypse of Ezra belongs. In a dream vision recorded in this apocalypse (2 Esdras 13:1-53) `something resembling a man’ (Syr. ‘eyk demuta debarnaSa) is seen coming up from the sea: `that ‘man’ flies with the clouds of heaven to judge the ungodly and deliver creation. He is acknowledged by God as ‘my son’ (verses 32, 371, 52) and described as ‘the one whom the Most High has kept for many ages’ (verse 26). This language, which in other dream visions in the same work is used of the Messiah (7:28, 29; 12:32), is fairly certainly based on that of Daniel 7:13f., although it is reminiscent also of Enoch’s `hidden’ Son of Man. The Semitic original of the Apocalypse of Ezra is lost, as is also the Greek version; it survives in a number of secondary versions (notably Latin, Syriac and Ethiopic) based on the Greek. We can only guess what the Semitic term for the `man’ was (Heb. ben ‘adam, perhaps, or Aram. bar fenasa); since the Latin refers to him as ipse homo (in the vision, but vir in the interpretation),” the lost Greek version presumably had autos ho anthropos (i.e. no attempt was made to reproduce the Semitic idiom by some such rendering as huios anthropou with accompanying pronoun or article).

The Apocalypse of Ezra (a Jewish work) could have had no influence on the development of the Gospel tradition. Its vision of the man from the sea represents an independent line of interpretation of Daniel’s vision, parallel to that in the Parables of Enoch.

Agiba

The identification of the ‘man’ of Ezra’s sixth vision with the Messiah crops up elsewhere in Judaism. Naturally, with the growth of exegetical controversy between Jews and Christians towards the end of the first century, the messianic interpretation of Daniel’s ‘one like a son of man’ was bound to become as unacceptable to Jewish theologians as the messianic interpretation of the Isaianic Servant. But the messianic interpretation of Daniel’s figure had already been established in some Jewish circles, and it emerges in the remark attributed to Aqiba that the thrones set for judgment in Daniel 7:9 were two in number – one for God and one for `David’, i.e. the Messiah (cf. Ps. 122:5, ‘There thrones for judgment were set, the thrones of the house of David’). Aqiba’s colleagues were shocked to hear him voice an interpretation which by now smacked of profanity, but Aqiba would not have voiced it had it not been of respectable origin.

Summary

Our conclusions, then, are as follows:

1. `The Son of man’ was not a current title for the Messiah or any other eschatological figure.

2. Jesus’ special use of the expression (as distinct from its general Aramaic use in the sense of `man’, `the man’, or a possible use to replace the pronoun `I’) was derived from the `one like a son of man’ who is divinely vested with authority in Daniel 7:13f. Because it was not a current title, it was not liable to be misunderstood, as current titles were, and Jesus was free to take up the expression and give it what meaning he chose.

3. Jesus enriched the expression by fusing with it the figure of a righteous sufferer, probably the Isaianic Servant, so that he could speak of the suffering of the Son of man as something that was `written’ concerning him. By suffering and vindication Jesus, the Son of man, became his people’s deliverer and advocate.

4. A similar fusion of suffering and vindicated figures is found in some Qumran texts, although they use a different vocabulary (in which `one like a son of man’ does not appear), and there is no indication that Jesus or the evangelists were influenced by Qumran thought.

5. The `Son of Man’ in the Parables of Enoch and the `man’ in the Apocalypse of Ezra also hark back to Daniel’s `one like a son of man’, but in these works also the expression is not a title, and they represent developments probably later than Jesus and the Gospels and certainly independent of them.

6. A `Son of man’ theology could be nothing other than a theology based on what can be ascertained about Jesus’ understanding of his identity and life mission.

Summarizing the foregoing observations we may say that there are many points in favour of the Eusebian conclusion of Matthew, far more than for the traditional conclusion.

The “name of Jesus” stands in the centre of early Christian preaching and it would be surprising if Matthew’s Gospel would take so little notice of this important fact as to immerse it completely in the Trinitarian baptism formula. We have seen that this formula is late beyond any doubt and this alone makes its appearance at so early a stage a historical impossibility. The only explanation we can give is that it has been inserted here by the later Church, because it needed it in that Gospel which was the most widely used in its liturgy. This statement cannot be scientifically proved, because we have no other text tradition than that of the Church. It can only be corroborated from the records outside this textus receptus of the ending of Matthew. In making this insertion the Church was in its own rights, for it was its own Gospel. But even though the Church took this liberty, the faith in the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit was not a late invention of the Church, for it was already contained in nuce in the New Testament itself, only that it was not yet expressed in a baptism formula.

The historical evidence derived from the writings of the New Testament is that baptism in the earliest Christian Church was performed “in the name of Jesus (Christ)” as a baptism of repentance. On the other hand it was not the most important concern of those who taught. Jesus himself, as far as we are informed, did not baptize; this was done by his disciples. Paul only baptized a few (1 Cor. 1, 14-16), but expressly declared that Christ had not sent him to baptize but to preach the gospel. It appears that Paul fulfilled the last commission of his Lord in accordance with the conclusion as preserved by Eusebius.

The Eusebian conclusion confirms the object of the Gospel, namely, to give an account of the person of Jesus, of his name and his authority, and of his message to the world. In fact, no conclusion could serve this purpose better. The personality of Jesus stands in the middle of both the narrative of the Gospel and its conclusion. It is also through this conclusion that all statements in the Gospel about the name and the authority of Jesus appear in a clearer and brighter light.

XI

We are fortunate in having a short commentary on the last verses of Matthew by Eusebius himself in his De Theophania (V, 46) 16). In concluding our own observations we can hardly do better than to quote an extract from it. The text to which it refers is the shorter one. Eusebius would not have had the courage to write these comments if this text had not been the recognized conclusion of Matthew at the time of his writing but some text he had prepared himself. He says:

“But he who used nothing human or mortal, see how in truth he again conceded the oracle of God, in the word which he spoke to his disciples, the weak ones, saying, Go ye and make disciples of all the peoples…These things then (scil. How can we do this? How preach to the Romans, etc.) The disciples of our saviour would either have aid or thought; so by a simple addition of a word, he resolved the sum of those things of which they doubted, the sum of them he committed to them in that he said, ye conquer in my name. For it was not that he ordered them simply and without discriminating, to go and make disciples of all the peoples, but with the important addition, that he said in my name. For because of the power of his name did all this come about, even as the Apostle said, God has given him a name more excellent than all names, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, which is in heaven and in earth and under the earth …”.

END

We have already seen that the early Christian mission consisted in the preaching of the “name of Jesus (Christ)”. Everything was done in his name, through his name, for (the sake of) his name, etc. The conclusion of the Gospel of Matthew reflects this fact very well, for which there is also sufficient evidence in the Gospel itself. As we have so far omitted examples of this evidence in Matthew, we add a further list. We must not expect to find here all the examples we culled from the other writings of the New Testament. Matthew’s Gospel which is certainly not the oldest document of the New Testament can rightly presuppose all that was said in the earlier tradition about the “name of Jesus”, but Matthew adds some remarkable passages underlining the importance of the new beginning in his name.

Matthew describes the name-giving and its significance in greater detail than the other evangelists (Mt. 1, 21-25; there are only two brief remarks in Luke, 1, 31 and 2, 21; there is nothing at all in Mark). Any gathering together, however small, must be done in the name of Jesus and he will be present (Mt. 18, 20; no parallels). On the occasion of the quarrel of the disciples, who is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven, Jesus likens the greatest to a humble child. Without that humbleness man cannot even enter into the Kingdom; but whoever receives one such child “in my name receives me” (Mt.18, 1-6; Mk. 9, 33-37; Lk. 9, 46-48). In Mark (10, 29) and Luke (18, 29) Jesus requires man to leave everything, house, family, and relatives for his and the gospel’s sake (Mark) or for the sake of the Kingdom of God (Luke); only Matthew’s wording is: “for my name’s sake” (19, 29). As God demanded of Abraham to leave his past life behind (Gen. 12, 1-3), so also he who enters into the new life “in the name of Jesus” must give up what was dear to him.

When Jesus sent out his disciples for the first time (to the lost sheep of the house of Israel) he warned them against the things that will await them: they “will be hated by all for his name’s sake” (Mat. 10, 22; not in Mark and Luke). The same admonition is repeated in one of the last speeches to the disciples concerning the tribulations of the end (Mat. 24, 9). The parallel texts (Mk. 13, 13; Lk. 21, 12.17) have the wording as Mat.10, 22, whilst Matthew puts it here in a slightly different form: “you will be hated by all nations for my name’s sake”. The conclusion of Matthew shows that this is not a chance alteration. The nations which are to be taught “in his name” (cf. also 24, 14! =Mk. 13, 10) will hate and persecute them “for his name’s sake”. All synoptics warn against the false Messiahs who will rise in Jesus’ name in the time of the end (Mt. 24, 5; Mk. 13, 6; Lk. 21, 8), but Matthew alone speaks of those who, though not pretending to be Christ, do signs in his name, but do not do the will of the Father (7, 21-23; with a distant parallel in Lk. 6, 46).

IX

We come now to the last and perhaps most interesting passage, Mat. 12, 18-21. It is important not only for the conclusion of the Gospel, that is, the Eusebian conclusion, but also vice versa, the conclusion sheds new light on the version of this text. It is a quotation from Is. 42, 1-4, and it must be noted that it is unique to Matthew. It is not the LXX version 13); it is closer to the MT, especially in verse 18, on the other hand it deviates in a few instances from both the MT and the more literal translation of the LXX; it also omits the whole of Is. 42, 4a (to the atnach). A study of the differences between the three versions would be rewarding, but they do not concern us here with one exception which is important to us. It is the last line which, in this case, is practically identical with the LXX version…Some scholars have suggested that the LXX translation as it has come down to us is due to the error of a scribe who found in his Vorlage the correct translation TS1NOM but made a visual mistake and wrote TS2,ONOMATI. This error, these scholars argue, was perpetuated by subsequent copyists and was taken over by the NT writers who also left out the preposition En’L which had become redundant.

It is, however, hardly believable that the “correct” rendering…should have been entirely lost during the LXX transmission, also that the synoptic writers should have simply copied just this “error” when they otherwise did not follow the LXX (note also the additions of the LXX in Is. 42, 1; had the gospel writers adopted here the LXX rendering, they would have spoiled the object of their quotation completely).

Wherever the NT version of Is. 42, 4b came from, it must be admitted that it is the only wording of the line which makes sense in connection with the preceding verses 12, 14-17. It serves as a biblical support (verse 17) for Jesus’ request in verse 16. He had healed many people and he charged them not to make him known, with other words, his name and renown must remain unknown for the time being. We must not forget here that the name of a person is of course not just a name in the modern sense; the name designates the person himself. In particular, knowing and uttering the name of God (or of any divine power) assures, according to the biblical (OT and NT) conception, his presence (for help, as a witness, etc.) just as doing something in that name invokes his presence and assistance.

This helps us to understand the meaning of the last line of the quotation. It must be translated as follows: “and to his name the nations shall look forward”…The nations desire, and hope for, his coming, they wait for the revelation of his name, that is, his person and his authority. This is also exactly what the context of Matthew requires in order to make sense.

The Greek translation would go back to a Hebrew line…This line would also underlie the LXX translation. However, no such text has come down to us in Hebrew-but this would by no means be a final proof against the possibility that such a Hebrew text with semo instead of torato once existed. Such a text is not only quite possible, but, as we shall see, it makes good logical sense even in the original context of the Servant songs.

We should like to make one or two further observations on the MT text of Is. 42, 1-4 15). The word we might expect in the last line of this Servant song is micpato. Instead we find torato. The milpat which the Servant will bring about is mentioned twice before, not torah. Milpat is the justice to be actualized and made effective by the Servant. This is what the nations are waiting for: the realization of justice on earth, not just only another revelation of Torah, like that of Moses on Mount Sinai which probably was the idea behind the plural torotaw of the Isaiah MS found in Qumran. The word Torah is here well chosen, since the Servant is the mediator and dispenser of God’s Torah which is the basis of the Mishpat to be established on earth. The role ascribed to the Servant in Is. 49, 1-6, although he still remains hidden (verse 2), is far too active (verse 6b) than that he should be a mere law-giver only. We are mentioning this point to show that at an early stage some thought must have been given to this object of hope for the nations.

Another and perhaps more noteworthy point in this little poem (42, 1-4) is that it gives us a picture of the person of the Servant himself. It tells us what sort of a man he is. What he will be doing, is also declared in two very short lines: he will bring forth mispat to the nations, and he will bring it forth in truth. But one question over which we are kept in suspense still remains to be answered: Who is he? Or who will he be? His name has not been revealed, his person is not known. Is he already there, but still hidden? There is this mystery about the Servant of the Lord, and it is intended to be and to remain a mystery, at least for the present time, by the author of the Servant songs himself (49, 2): God is hiding him until the time for his revelation has come.

The nations are not only waiting for the Servant, they must remain waiting until he is revealed. A line which had lihvo is therefore as much to the point in this poem on the Servant as the line of the traditional MT with letorato. How does this apply to Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew? Jesus did not want to be made known; the time of his final revelation had not yet come. The author of the Gospel understood this very well. He also understood the mystery about the Servant in the ancient songs of Isaiah. He saw the inner resemblance. It is only in the last four lines of the Gospel that we hear that the full message of Jesus should now be spread: all nations should be made disciples and taught in his name. The message contains after all also a teaching, a new Torah in the prophetic sense which must be observed, a new Mishpat which must be established. In the Eusebian conclusion of the Gospel the quotation from Isaiah is remarkably well fulfilled, and vice versa, it is this same conclusion which would also justify a Hebrew version…Although the word uletorato of the MT does not appear in this line, the idea it stands for is de facto taken into account. With other words, the two versions of Is. 42, 4b are very close to each other.

The foregoing does not, of course, intend to be a “scientific” proof that the original Gospel of Matthew did not contain the Trinitarian baptism formula. Nobody can “prove” this at the present stage. We can only demonstrate that it is highly unlikely that it was originally there.

We will now turn to the Eusebian text, and will assume that it represents the original text. What happens to the conclusion of Matthew itself? As Eusebius’ four words replace the whole passage on baptism with the Trinitarian formula, the conclusion of the Gospel would have no reference to baptism whatever, like the ending of Luke, or of Mark excluding the additional verses 9-20. The omission of such a reference would be no particular loss to the Church as the Trinitarian baptism formula has been so well established in the tradition of the Church itself, at least since Nicea, that even Eusebius himself adopted it in the latter part of his life.

The older Eusebian version enables us to divide the conclusion of Matthew into four natural lines (which we cannot do with the traditional conclusion…

We see that the passage is now no longer a prose text like the traditional text, but a hymnic piece. The traditional conclusion is, even as a prose text, comparatively “heavy”; its syntax is awkward and as Otto MrcHEL has remarked we miss some logical order. The Eusebian conclusion has a definitely poetical and almost elegant form. It is a self-contained unit consisting of four lines. It is well-balanced in its structure and the lines follow one after the other in a logical sequence; this cannot be said of the traditional conclusion. The poem is not a Greek poem; that means we cannot scan the lines as we scan Greek poetry. It is Semitic in the structure of its contents. In its Greek garb it is most likely a translation from Hebrew; after all, it is meant to be a saying of Jesus. It would, however, be futile to translate it back into Hebrew, as we do not know whether the Greek translation is literal or whether it is merely a paraphrase. Nevertheless, the progressive structure of the whole and the interrelationship between the four lines is obvious. It is the same as in all well-constructed Hebrew poetry 11).

The following translation of the quatrain with which the Gospel (according to Eusebius) ends will show the structure of the poem a little more clearly:

A)  All power is given unto me in heaven and on earth.

B   1) Go and make all nations disciples in my name,

      2) Teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.

C) And behold, I am with you all the days till the consummation of the aeon.

Jesus has risen to universal power. This is stated in line A: he is in full authority. The line repeats the statement made in Mat.11, 27: “Everything has been delivered…to me by the Father”. This is followed, in verses 28-30, by the request to his disciples to accept him and his message which comes from the Father and to learn from him in becoming his disciples and followers…in order to find rest to their souls.

At the end of the Gospel his disciples are asked to transmit this message to the nations of the world. The commission is given in the two middle lines, B 1 and 2. It should be noted that the two lines belong together, but they are by no means identical as would appear from the translations which render the two different verbs…by one and the same verb (A.V. : “teach” Luther:”lehret”). The two clauses mean two different things. B 1 make them disciples in my name…that is, make them my disciples, disciples bearing my name with everything that is implied in it, namely, following the master and learning from his life (Mat. 11, 29). Line B 2 tells them that this end must be achieved by instructing them to observe, to carry out in their lives everything that Jesus had commanded them. Line C reassures the disciples: they need not be afraid to fulfill this task, for Jesus himself, ever present, will be with them until the end of the aeon. Whilst the two lines B are running parallel to each other (synthetic parallelism!), lines A and C, the first and the last of the poem, separated by the two middle lines, are also clearly related to each other, but in a different way. The statement in the last line is entirely dependent on the statement contained in the first line; both lines enclose the charge. The structure of the four-lined stanza is thus in perfect old Hebrew style (see the article mentioned in note 11). It is by no means surprising that the Gospel of Matthew should end with a poetic piece. The conclusion is evidently a very important, perhaps the most important concern of the Gospel, and it is quite natural that it should be given in a suitable poetic form. It could hardly have been done more impressively.

VII

Jesus, and Jesus alone, is in the centre of this conclusion which this should be kept in mind-does not stand by itself like an additional artistic ornament, but is the vital inference from the whole Gospel. It must, therefore, somehow bring out or stress once more what had been in the mind of the author or editor of the Gospel. Jesus is endowed with immense power; his name, in the words of an old and most likely pre-Pauline hymn, has been raised “above all names” “in heaven and on earth”(Phil.2, 9-11; Hebr.1, 4 also points this out emphatically).

The ousia and the ovoµa of Jesus which are beyond the &�ouaia and `ovoµa of any other being in the universe (except God himself who has given them to him) are the two characteristic words in Matthew’s conclusion. Looking back from here to the preceding narrative of Matthew we realize that the same two words, &�ouaia and ovoµa, are decisive for the whole presentation of Jesus in Matthew. And both are intimately linked up with each other, for the name alone of Jesus would not mean much if it were not for the power with which this name, that is Jesus himself, was endowed by God.

Jesus taught as one who had ousia, not like the scribes (Mat. 7, 29; cf. Mark 1, 22 and 27a; Luke 4, 32). The ousia which Jesus possessed had nothing to do with any worldly power, although he lived and acted in this world; it was the divine power…which dwelled in him (cf. also Col. 1, 19 and 2, 9). Luke, both in his Gospel (for instance 4, 36 and 24, 49) and with regard to the disciples in Acts        (1, 8; 3, 12f; 4, 7 etc.) stresses this fact very clearly. Matthew and Mark (cf. also 5, 30) are likewise cognizant of it, but in both of these two gospels it shows itself more in the 8uv&. ne which Jesus did on earth 12), whilst the full investment with God’s 86vaµis is reserved for the time when the Kingdom comes (Mt. 24, 30 and parallels ; Mark 9, 1). John does not use the word Suva u. at all; he speaks only of the E`ouaia. of Jesus, but he implies that it is of divine origin.

As Jesus had the power to heal the sick he also had authority to forgive sins on earth (9, 6; also Mark 2, 10; Luke 5, 24). That power, the people confessed, could only be given to him by God (Mt. 9, 8). While the people realized at once whence this power came to him, the chief priests and the elders pretended not to know. When they asked him about it, he gave them no answer (Mt. 21, 23-29; Mk. 11, 27-33; Lk. 20, 1-8).

Because Jesus possessed the power to drive out evil spirits (cf. Mt. 12, 24; Lk. 4, 36) and heal the sick he could transfer it also to his disciples (Mt. 10, 1; cf. Mk. 3, 15; 6, 7; Lk.9, 1; cf. further the transference of other powers in Lk. 10, 19; Mk. 16, 18) ; and they did signs in the name of Jesus (Mk. 16, 17f.; cf. Mt.7, 22). Later the disciples were asked by the Jewish leaders in what power…and in what name they did this and they answered, “in the name of Jesus Christ”, “in him” they worked this deed (Acts 4, 7.10).

It was John the Baptist who introduced the “baptism of repentance” (Mt. 3, 11; Mk. 1, 4; Lk. 3, 3; Acts 13, 24; 19, 4; Mark and Luke have in addition: “for the remission of sins”). Even Jesus was baptized with this baptism (Mt. 3, 13ff.) “to fulfil all righteousness” 6). Jesus himself “baptized with the baptism of John” those who followed him (Lk. 7, 29f; John 3, 22; 4, 1; according to 4, 2 Jesus himself did not baptize, but the disciples did it in his place). At an early stage, however, evidently not long after Jesus’ death and resurrection, the baptism of John was replaced by the “baptism in the name of Jesus Christ”…Rom. 6, 3-5 gives us a full explanation of the meaning of this “baptism into Christ Jesus”: it is a “baptism into his death”, being a symbol of the “newness of life” now here on earth and, implicitly, in the resurrection (cf. also verses 8f. and 22f; Col. 2, 12; 1Peter 3.21). But the main element in John’s baptism of repentance was by no means lost in the new baptism (Rom. 6, 6-23): we are dead to the old life of sin from which we are freed, and the end is eternal life (22f.). Although repentance still remained the indispensable condition of baptism (Acts 2, 38) and the new life (numerous passages) 8), John’s “baptism of repentance” had now become insufficient, for the present Kairos which had come to a climax required a new baptism, namely that “in the name of the Lord Jesus” (Acts 19,1-7;cf. also 2, 28 ;8, 12and 16 ;10, 48 ; 19, 5; Rom. 6, 3 ;1 Cor. 1, 13-17 implies baptism in the name Jesus Christ ; Did. 9, 5).

The New Testament records know only of two kinds of baptism, the baptism of John the Baptist and the baptism in the name of Jesus Christ which replaced the former. “The “Way” which Jesus had taught his disciples in the time of the end began to lose its urgency and its meaning when the End delayed in coming. A new era set in requiring new thought, a new orientation of the Church and its teaching. The Kingdom of God failed to appear. No explanation of the delay was given or could be given. The leaders of the Church could only from time to time affirm the promise that the “day of the Lord” would finally come (2 Peter 3; 1 Clem. 23; 2 Clem. 11). But as decade after decade passed by and nothing happened, the delay of the Kingdom had at last seriously to be taken into account. It was then that the Church itself as the unique Heilsanstalt (the only divine institute of salvation) with its means of grace began to fill the vacuum step by step and to assume the place of the Kingdom of God so far as its earthly aspects were concerned. The rest had to wait till the coming of the Lord in his glory, but even that was occasionally lost sight of.

Jesus who had shown the Way of God was assigned a definite place as the second person of the Trinity. After that step it was only natural that the baptism in his name which was preeminently a baptism into his death could no longer adequately express the present status of Christ who was now sitting at the right hand of God for all eternity. Neither did it express the faith of the Church in God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. There was a need for the full recognition and expression of that faith in a Trinitarian baptism formula since baptism had become the symbol of admission to the Church.

It cannot be our task here to demonstrate this development in detail and to show the gradual shift of emphasis in the baptism ritual from John’s baptism of repentance to the baptism in the name of the triune Godhead. May it suffice to say that this development did take place, though not yet during the time of the New Testament writings, as no trace of a Trinitarian baptism formula can be discovered in any part of the NT, On the other hand it must be stated at once that the faith in God, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, as it found expression later in the Creed of the Church has its roots in the New Testament 9). We find the three divine manifestations clearly stated in an epistolary salutation (2 Cor.13, 14), which means that the belief in the three hypostases of God had already established itself at that time in a formula. The other passages, we omit those which mention only two persons, such as 1 Cor. 2, 10-12 (God, the Spirit), 1Cor. 8, 6 (God, Jesus), and Acts19, 5f.(Jesus, the Spirit)-1Cor.  12,2-6, Eph. 3, 14-21, and 4, 4-6 show how the need for this teaching about the three divine powers arose as a result of the early Christian mission among the Gentiles (cf. 1 Cor. 12, 2; Eph. 2, 11f.; 3, 2; 4, 17).

At the beginning, however, so long as the Gospel was preached to the lost sheep of the house of Israel, there was no need to proclaim the triune Godhead. The Jews knew and believed in God, their Father in Heaven; they also knew of the Holy Spirit who, emanating from God, had inspired the prophets. What the apostles announced was the end of the days, the advent of the Kingdom of God through the Messiah. The God of Israel had his personal name; it was YHWH. But the name of the Messiah was not known. Now the Messiah had come. His name was Jesus. He lived, he worked through the Holy Spirit which was in him, he died, he was resurrected by God, his Father, he left his spiritual power to his apostles and would soon re-appear in his glory. We must not wonder, therefore, that in the centre of the earliest Christian message to the house of Israel was not God (the Father) and the Holy Spirit, although both had their definite functions, but “the name Jesus”, Jesus as Christ.

It was only later when the gospel of Jesus Christ was preached in the Hellenistic world that it became necessary to make his name known together with the Father and Creator who had planned everything, and the Holy Spirit, the active divine power.

V

It is, therefore, not surprising that in the early stages of the spreading of the gospel we find only the expression…(or with the prepositions &&, sts, Ev, Evexev, Berri) in all vital connexions. The following list is by no means complete:

The name of Jesus is spread abroad (Mk. 6, 14); Christ is being preached where his name is not named (Rom. 15, 19f.); one cannot name his name unless one departs from iniquity, (2 Tim. 2, 19); the apostles speak, preach, and teach in his name (Acts 4, 17f.; 5, 28. 40; 9,27.29) or about his name (8, 12); one prays (John 14, 13.14;16,23. 24. 26), one thanks God in his name (Eph. 5, 29; Col. 3, 17), one calls upon his name (Acts9,15;1Cor.1,2); one drives out evil spirits (Mk. 9, 28;16,17;Luke 10,17;Acts16,18), heals diseases (Acts 3,6.16;4,7.10), and does signs and wonders in his name (4,30); one gives judgment in his name (1 Cor. 5, 3-5) and exhorts by his name (1 Cor. 1, 10); one suffers, is reproached, and hazards one’s life for his name (Acts 5, 41; 9, 14. 16; 15, 26; 1 Peter 4, 14); one must believe in his name (John 1, 12; 2, 23; 3,18;1John 3, 23; 5,13; Acts 3, 16) and confess to his name (Rom. 15, 16), but it must not be misused (Acts 19, 13); his name must be magnified (19, 17) and glorified in us (2 Thess.1,12), every knee should bow at his name (Phil.2,10), for his name is above every name (2, 9). In fact, everything one does in word and deed should be done in his name (Col. 3, 17; cf. e.g. Mk. 9, 41). It goes without saying that one has remission of sins through his name (Luke 24, 47; Acts 10, 43; 1 John 2, 12), is justified in his name (1 Cor. 6, 11) and has life through his name (John 20, 31) ; there is no other name whereby we must be saved (Acts 4, 12).

Naturally, in those times, baptism was also performed in the name of Jesus Christ (see above p. 134). No such baptism, however, is recorded in the gospels; they only speak of the baptism of John or the baptism of repentance. With other words, they are a record of the earliest stage of evangelism during the life of Christ. This makes it very difficult for us to accept the Trinitarian baptism formula as an original part of the Gospel of Matthew. The gospels were written as straightforward records of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus with the ensuing charge to the disciples to bring Christ’s message to all nations. This exactly, and no more, Luke has pointed out at the end of his gospel (24, 46-48) as the quintessence of his record. No baptism is mentioned, though it may, however, be assumed that baptism accompanied the acceptance of the gospel as its visible demonstration. Even the spurious ending of Mark stresses the charge in the simplest possible words (16, 15). It mentions in the following verse a baptism which should supplement the acceptance of the gospel, but it does not say in whose name the believer should be baptized. One might expect a baptism in the name of Jesus, for verse 17 at once continues recounting the deeds which the disciples will do “in my name”.

The reason for the later inclusion of the Trinitarian baptism formula in the final verses of Matthew may be a very simple one. Matthew became the favourite gospel in the Greek Church. It was put to an extensive liturgical use, as research of the past few decades has shown. No gospel lent itself so readily for any additions which the Church felt obliged to make than the Gospel of Matthew 10). This would also explain why the Trinitarian and not any other baptism formula was inserted, for the baptism “in the name of Jesus” was by that time no longer in use.

The conclusion of the Gospel of Matthew is the only passage in the whole New Testament which contains the Trinitarian baptism formula. There is not a single manuscript which does not have it…

A few manuscripts have some minor variants noted in the critical editions of the text, but they are of no importance to us here. Because all manuscripts agree with each other on the inclusion of the baptism formula no doubts were ever raised about the originality of this formula until the 19th century 1). The attitude of the NT scholars of our day can be briefly summed up as follows: all scholars acknowledge that the manuscript tradition is unanimous about the inclusion of the Trinitarian baptism formula. Some of them, however, infer that the traditional text must be accepted as it is, as we have no other text, and that the matter must, therefore, rest until we find a manuscript of the Gospel without the Trinitarian formula. This may probably not be their considered opinion, but leaving the problem alone is a way out of the dilemma. Other scholars, though also admitting the manuscript evidence, would nevertheless say that the formula is late, because it can in no way be corroborated from the rest of the NT tradition.

To their support came the discovery that Eusebius in a number of his writings quotes a text which has no baptism formula at all. Instead of it(omitting verse 19b…) he continues the text of 19a…so that the line reads: “go out make all nations disciples in my name”. This variant reading will be found in the critical apparatus of NESTLE’S and KIRKPATRICK’s editions.

II

It is now over sixty years ago that F. C. CONYBEARE published a survey of all quotations of Matthew 28, 19 in the writings of Eusebius 2). There are no less than 17 attestations of the reading…Two further passages are favourable to it, whilst one is doubtful; apart from these there are also some neutral passages…CONYBEARE found that all the passages…occur in the ante-nicene writings. There are three passages in the works of Eusebius in which the textus receptus of Mat. 28, 19 is quoted, but all of these belong to the last period of his literary activity which fell after the Council of Nicea. This is certainly a remarkable observation and it looks as if texts with the shorter version of 28, 19b still existed round about 300 A.D. But then Eusebius would be our only witness, perhaps with one or two exceptions 3). Some scholars, therefore, reject this testimony, although none of them can disprove it; they merely state that Eusebius made for himself a shorter text-like RIGGENBACH and ZAHN 4) or that “the shorter text of Eusebius can hardly be considered original”, as Otto MICHEL says 5), though he does not tell us why. He admits, however, that it is very difficult to explain the sequence of the participles…for the order should be the same as in Did 7, 1…the teaching should precede the baptism. On the whole it must be said that the arguments brought forth against the shorter version are without exception extremely weak.

III

The problem with which we have to deal is not only a simple textual problem, for the theology of the Church is here involved. The passage is the standard text, accepted at least since the Council of Nicea, for one of the most important institutions of the Church and has become dear to all Christians, both Catholic and Protestant. On the other hand, we cannot expect ever to solve this problem, if we uncritically insist on the correctness of the traditional text without seriously investigating into the other possibility offered to us. We propose, therefore, to explore once more the historical position of the problem and find out first whether the textus receptus can be historically justified. We will, then, try to tackle the problem, so to speak, from the other end, setting out from the assumption that the Eusebian text is the original conclusion of the Gospel. It is quite permissible and even legitimate to take this assumption as a working hypothesis. We can, then, ask ourselves whether it is a possible and satisfactory text and whether it agrees with the concept and the purport of the Gospel. Would the Gospel suffer any loss by the substitution of the shorter conclusion or would this conclusion perhaps bring out the Gospel’s message even more clearly?   

We have already pointed out that the whole tradition of the New Testament concerning baptism stands against the textus receptus of Matthew’s conclusion. This fact is very well known among NT scholars. Nevertheless a brief recapitulation of the historical situation as recorded in the NT will be helpful in our investigation.

Next to theology itself the study of medicine has been a great heresy breeder. From the days of Arnold of Villanova and Pierre of Abano, there have been noted heretics in our ranks. Bossuet defines a heretic as `One who has opinions’. Servetus seems to have been charged with. Opinions like a Leyden jar. His most notable ones concerned the Trinity and Infant Baptism. Wracked almost to destruction in the third and fourth centuries on the subject of the Trinity, the final conquest of Arianism found its expression in that magnificent human document the Athanasian Creed, with which the Catholic Church has forever settled th–question, in language which sends a cold shudder down the backs of heretics. But there have always been turbulent souls who could not rest satisfied, and who would bring up unpleasant points from the Bible-men who were not able to accept Dante’s wise advice. Mad is he who hopes that our reason can traverse the infinite way which one Substance as Three Persons holds. Be content oh human race with the Quia’. The doctrine has been a great breeding ground of heretics, the smoke of whose burning has been a sweet savour in the nostrils alike of Catholics and Protestants. Even to-day, so deeply ingrained is the catholic creed, that nearly everything in the way of doctrinal vagary is forgiven save denial of the Trinity, which is thought to put a man outside the pale of normal Christianity. If this is the feeling to-day, imagine what it must have been in the middle of the sixteenth century ! Servetus wrote two theological works-de Trinitatis Erroribus, published in 1531, followed by a supplement in 1532. To these I have already referred. Living a double life at Vienne, to the inhabitants he was the careful and kind practitioner of medicine, to whom they had become devoted, but all the while, nourishing the dream of his youth, he had in preparation a work which he believed would win the world to Christ by purifying the Church from grave errors in doctrine. I have already spoken of the printing of the Christianismi Restitutio. Mainly concerned with most abstruse questions concerning the Trinity and Infant Baptism, it is a most difficult work to read, and, as theologians confess, a still more difficult one to understand. Professor Emerton, in his article from which I have already quoted, gives in a few paragraphs the essence of his views. ‘He finds the central fact of Christian speculation, not in the doctrine of the Trinity as formulated by the schools, but in the fact of the divine incarnation in the person of Jesus. He admits the divine birth, explaining it as in harmony with a general law of divine manifestation whereby the spiritual is revealed in the material. He would not accept the idea of an eternal sonship, except in this sense, that the divine Word, the Logos, had always been active as the expression in outward form of the divine activity. So, in the fullness of time, this same Logos produced a being from a human mother upon whom at the momentof his birth the divine Spirit was breathed. Obviously this is not the “eternal Son” of the creeds, and herein lay the special theological crime of Servetus. In his criticism of the church order, of the papal government, of the sacramental system, he does not differ essentially from the more radical of the reformers. On the essential matters of baptism and the Eucharist he goes quite beyond the established reforming churches. In both cases he invokes the principle of plain reason. He rejects Infant Baptism on the ground that the infant can have no faith, and that the practice is therefore mere incantation. He denies transubstantiation on the rational basis that substances and accidents may not be separated, and does not spare the reforming leaders for what seemed to him their half-hearted attitude on this point. His language throughout is harsh and violent, except where, as at the close of his chapters, he passes over into the forms of devotion and closes his diatribes with prayers of great beauty and spirituality.’

The Christian Church early found out that there was only one safe way of dealing with heresy. From the end of the fourth century, when the habit began, to its climax on St. Bartholomew’s Day, it was universally recognized that only dead heretics ceased to be troublesome. History affords ample evidence of the efficacy of repressive measures, often carried out on a scale of noble proportions. France is Catholic because of a root and branch policy; England’s Protestantism is an enduring testimony to the thoroughness with which Henry VIII carried out his measures. As De Foe says in his famous pamphlet, Shortest way with Dissenters, if a man is obstinate and persists in having an opinion of his own, contrary to that held by a majority of his fellows, and if the opinion is pernicious and jeopardizes his eternal salvation, it is much safer to burn him than to allow his doctrines to spread! For 1,200 years this policy kept heresy within narrow limits until the great outbreak. The very best men of the day were consenting to the death of heretics. The spirit of Protestantism was against it; Luther nobly so. Judged by his age Servetus was a rank heretic, and as deserving of death as any ever tied to a stake. We can scarcely call him a martyr of the Church.-What Church would own him? All the same, we honour his memory as a martyr to the truth as he saw it.

Servetus was a student of medicine in Paris with Sylvius and Guinther, two of the most ardent of the revivers of the Galenic anatomy. More important still, he was a fellow student and pro-sector with Vesalius. He wrote one little medical book of no special merit. The works which he edited, which brought him more money than fame, indicate an independent and critical spirit. Vienne was a small town, in which we cannot think there was any scientific stimulus, though it was in a region noted for its intellectual activity. In possession of a fact in physiology of the very first moment, Servetus described it with extraordinary clearness and accuracy. But so little did he think of the discovery, of so trifling importance did it appear in comparison with the great task in hand of restoring Christianity, that he used it simply as an illustration when discussing the nature of the Holy Spirit in his work Christianismi Restitutio. The discovery was nothing less than that of the passage of the blood from the right side of the heart to the left through the lungs, what is known as pulmonary or lesser circulation. In the year 1553 the views of Galen everywhere prevailed. The great master had indeed affected a revolution in the knowledge of the circulation almost as great as that made by Harvey in the seventeenth century. Briefly stated there were two bloods, the natural and the vital, in two practically closed systems, the veins and the arteries. The liver was the central organ of the venous system, the `shop’ as Burton calls it, in which the chylus was converted into blood and from which it was distributed by the veins to all parts of the body for nourishment. The veins were rather vessels containing the blood than tubes for its transmission-irrigating canals Galen called them. Galen knew the structure of the heart, the arrangement of its valves, and the direction in which the blood passed, but its chief function was not, as we suppose, mechanical, but in the left ventricle, the seat of life, the vital spirits were generated, being a mixture of inspired air and blood. By an alternate movement of dilatation and collapse of the arteries the blood with the vital spirits were kept in constant motion.’ Galen had demonstrated that the arteries and the veins communicated with each other at the periphery. A small quantity of the blood went, he believed, from the right side of the heart to the lungs, for their nourishment, and in this way passed to the left side of the heart; but the chief communication between the two systems was through pores in the ventricular septum, the thick muscular wall separating the two chief chambers of the heart.

The literature may be searched in vain for any other than the Galenic view up to 1553.Even Vesalius, who could not understand from its structure how even the smallest quantity of blood could pass through the septum dividing the ventricles, offered no other explanation. The more one knows of the Galenic physiology, the less one is surprised that it had so captivated the minds of men. The description of the new way which Servetus describes is found in the fifth book of the Christianismi Restitutio, in which he is discussing the nature of the Holy Spirit. After mentioning the threefold spirit of the body of man, natural, vital, and animal, he goes on to discuss the vital spirit, and in so firmly entrenched was the Galenic physiology that the new views of Harvey made at first very slow progress. In Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy, which is a sort of epitome of medical knowledge of the seventeenth century, is the following description : `The left creek (i.e. ventricle) has the form of a cone, and is the seat of life, which, as a torch doth oil, draws blood unto it begetting of it spirits and fire, and as a fire in a torch so are spirits in the blood ; and by that great artery called aorta, it sends vital spirits over the body, and takes air from the lungs.’ elaboration or transformation in the lungs, so that with the freeing the blood of `fuliginous vapours’, there was at the same time a change to the crimson colour of the arterial blood ; fourthly, the direct denial of a communication of the two bloods, by means of orifices in the septum between the ventricles.

He had no idea of the general or systematic circulation, and so far as the left heart and the arteries were concerned he believed them to be the seat of the vital blood and spirits. It is not hard to imagine how Servetus had become emancipated from the old views. A student at Paris at a most opportune period, when dissection had become popular, he had had as pro-sector to Guinther exceptional opportunities. But more important still, he had as fellow worker the anatomical arch-heretic, Andreas Vesalius, already imbued with the conviction that his teachers were wrong in regarding Galen as inspired and infallible. It was at this very period that Vesalius had pointed out to his teacher Sylvius the error of Galen about the aortic valves ; and when one considers the extraordinary rapidity with which Vesalius reformed human anatomy, before he had completed his twenty-eighth year, it is not surprising that his colleague and co-worker should have discovered one of the great truths of physiology. The Christianismi Restitutio was never published, and the discovery of Servetus remained unrecognized until the attention of Wotton was called to it by Charles Bernard, a St. Bartholomew’s Hospital surgeon.’ Mean-while it had been rediscovered, and among the many vagaries with which the history of the circulation of the blood is marked, not the least striking is the attempt to rob Servetus of his credit. In 1 559 there was published a work by Realdus Colombo,’ a student of Vesalius and his successor at Padua, in which the circulation of the blood from the right side of the heart to the left is clearly described. It is impossible to say that he had added anything to the account just given, and the far-fetched view has been maintained that Italian students at Paris had acquainted Servetus with the views of Colombo. It is claimed for Colombo also that he had a better idea of the function of respiration in the purification of the blood, by its mingling with the air, but Servetus distinctly states that the mixture takes place in the lungs, not, as was usually understood at the time, in the heart itself. Caesalpinus (1569), for whom elaborate claims are made, also knew of the pulmonary circulation, but he thought part of the blood went through the median septum. A more important claim is made for him of the discovery of the general circulation, but it is remarkable that anyone knowing the history of the subject could read into his physiology anything more than the old Galenic views.

The history of the circulation bristles with controversy and widely divergent opinions are held as to the merits of the different observers. That Servetus first advanced a step beyond Galen, that Colombo and Caesalpinus reached the same conclusion independently-all three recognizing the lesser circulation, is quite as certain as that it remained for Harvey to open an entirely new chapter in physiology, and to introduce modern experi-mental methods by which the complete circulation of the blood was first clearly demonstrated.’ A word about the book Christianismi Restitutio, liber inter rariores longe rarissimus. Only two complete copies are known, one in the Bibliotheque Nationale, Paris, and the other in the Imperial Library, Vienna, from which I was very kindly permitted to have the photographs of the title-page and the pages describing the circulation of the blood which are here reproduced. A third copy, imperfect, with the first sixteen pages in MS., is in the University Library, Edinburgh. The Paris copy is of special interest, as it belonged to Dr. Richard Mead, the distinguished physician and book collector, by whom it was exchanged with M. de Boze for a series of medals. In 1784 it was secured for the Royal Library. It may now be seen in one of the show cases of the Bibliotheque Nationale, of which it is one of the rare treasures. An added interest is in the fact that on the title-page occurs the name ‘Germain Colladon’, the Geneva barrister, who prosecuted Servetus; and it is in the highest degree probable that this was the identical copy used at the trial. In one place the book is stained, some suppose by moisture; others think it possible this was the very copy bound upon the victim himself, and snatched from the flames by some one who wished to preserve so interesting a record of the great heretic. The question has been examined carefully by the late Professor Laboubene and M. Hahn, the distinguished librarian of the Paris Faculty of Medicine, both of whom are in favour of fire, not moisture, as the cause of the staining.

In 1791 the Vienna copy was reprinted at Nuremberg in facsimile, page for page, but Dr. de Murr, who was responsible for the reprint, very wisely put the date 1791 at the bottom of the last page. Copies of this edition are not uncommon in the larger libraries. In 1723 Mead attempted to have a reprint made from his copy, but when nearlycompleted the Bishop of London had it suppressed, and (it is stated) the copies were burnt. A few, however, escaped, and Willis says that he saw one in the library of the London Medical Society. I regret to say that the librarian informs me that this no longer is to be found. A copy of the Mead partial reprint is in the Bibliotheque Nationale, and two copies are in the British Museum.

A last word on the attitude of John Calvin towards Servetus. Much scorn has been heaped upon the great reformer, and one cannot but regret that a man of such magnificent achievements should have been dragged into a miserable heresy hunt like a common inquisitor. Let us not estimate him by his century, as his friends plead, but frankly by his life, and as a man of like passions with ourselves. He had bitter provocation. Flouted for years by the persistent assaults of Servetus, and shocked out of all compassion by his. Blasphemies, is it to be wondered that the old Adam got the better of his Christian charity? Not only is it impossible to acquit Calvin of active complicity in this unhappy affair, but there was mixed up with it a personal hate, vindictiveness unbecoming in so great a character and we may say foreign to it. But let the long record of a self-denying life, devoted in an evil generation to the highest and the best, wipe for all reasonable men this one blot. Let us, if we may judge him at all, do so as a man, not as a demi-god. We cannot defend him, let us not condemn him ; let his one grievous fault, even though we may fear he never repented of it, be the shadow which throws into stronger relief the splendid outlines of a noble life. In his defense,’ the original edition of which I have here, and which is concerned largely with doctrinal questions, not only are there no expressions of regret for the part he played in the tragedy, but the work is filled with insults to his dead enemy, couched in the most vindictive language. On the spot where Servetus was burnt there stands to-day an expiatory monument (Fig. ii), which expresses the spirit of modern Protestantism. On one side is the record of his birth and death, on the other an inscription, of which the following is a translation: ‘Duteous and grateful followers of Calvin our great Reformer, yet condemning an error which was that of his age, and strongly attached to liberty of conscience according to the true principles of the Reformation and the Gospel, we have erected this expiatory monument. Oct. 27, 1903.’

The erection next year at Vienne of quarter-centenary monument will complete the recognition by the modern world of the merits of one of the strangest figures on the rich canvas of the sixteenth century. The wandering Spanish scholar, the stormy disputant, the anatomical pro-sector, the mystic dreamer of a restored Christianity, the discoverer of one of the fundamental facts of physiology, has come at last to his own. There are those, I know, who feel that perhaps more than justice has been done; but in a tragic age Servetus played an unusually tragic part, and the pathos of his fate appeals strongly to us.

These, too, are days of retribution, of the restoration of all things, the days of the opening of the fifth seal, when the souls under the altar see their blood avenged, when we clothe in the white robes of charity those who were slain for the testimony which they held, little noting whether the martyr was Catholic or Protestant, caring only to honour one of that great company which no man can number, ‘ whose heroic sufferings,’ as Carlyle says, `rise up melodiously together to heaven out of all lands and out of all time, as a sacred Miserere, their heroic actions also as a boundless everlasting Psalm of Triumph.’

Note.-The Servetus bibliography is fully given to 18 go in Professor A. V.D. Linde’s Michael Servetus, Groningen, 1891. My personal interest dates many years back when Pastor Tollin’s delightful sketches enlivened the numbers of Virchow’s Archives. No one has ever had a more enthusiastic biographer, and to the writings of the Madgeburg clergyman we owe the greater part of our modern knowledge of Servetus. The best account in Errglish is by Willis-Servetus and Calvin, 1877. A German translation of the Christianismi Restilulio by Dr. Bernhard Spiess appeared in 1895 (2nd edition, Wiesbaden, Chr. Limbarth). I am indebted to Professor Harper of Princeton for an historical drama, The Reformer of Geneva, by Professor Shields (privately printed, Princeton University Press, 1897), which gives an admirable picture of Geneva at the time of the trial. From Chereau’s Histoire dun Livre, 1879, I have `cribbed’ the idea of the introduction. The name of Mosheim must be mentioned, as his writings were for years the common tap from which all Servetus knowledge was derived. The Servetus portrait, of which Mosheim speaks, has disappeared; I have reproduced the engraving from Allworden’s Historia (1727), also the Roch statue at Anamnese.

LONDON

HENRY FROWDE

OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS

AMEN CORNER, E.C.

1909