The Truth About Jesus is He a Myth?, by M. M.
Mangasarian
PREFACE
The following work offers in book form the
series of studies on the question of the historicity of Jesus, presented from
time to time before the Independent Religious Society in Orchestra Hall. No
effort has been made to change the manner of the spoken, into the
more regular form of the written, word.
M. M.
MANGASARIAN.
[Illustration: 010 Picture in Herculaneum, of the Days
of Pompeii, Showing Cupid Crowned with a Cross.]
PART
I.
A PARABLE
I am today twenty-five hundred years old.
I have been dead for nearly as many years. My place of birth was Athens; my
grave was not far from those of Xenophon and Plato, within view of the white
glory of Athens and the shimmering waters of the Aegean sea.
After
sleeping in my grave for many centuries I awoke suddenly--I cannot tell how
nor why--and was transported by a force beyond my control to this new day and
this new city. I arrived here at daybreak, when the sky was still dull and
drowsy. As I approached the city I heard bells ringing, and a little later I
found the streets astir with throngs of well dressed people in family groups
wending their way hither and thither. Evidently they were not going to work,
for they were accompanied by their children in their best clothes, and
a pleasant expression was upon their faces.
"This must be a day of
festival and worship, devoted to one of their gods," I murmured to
myself.
Looking about me I saw a gentleman in a neat black dress,
smiling, and his hand extended to me with great cordiality. He must have
realized I was a stranger and wished to tender his hospitality to me. I
accepted it gratefully. I clasped his hand. He pressed mine. We gazed for
a moment silently into each other's eyes. He understood my
bewilderment amid my novel surroundings, and offered to enlighten me. He
explained to me the ringing of the bells and the meaning of the holiday
crowds moving in the streets. It was Sunday--Sunday before Christmas, and
the people were going to "the House of God."
"Of course you are going
there, too," I said to my friendly guide.
"Yes," he answered, "I conduct
the worship. I am a priest."
"A priest of Apollo?" I
interrogated.
"No, no," he replied, raising his hand to command silence,
"Apollo is not a god; he was only an idol."
"An idol?" I whispered,
taken by surprise.
"I perceive you are a Greek," he said to me, "and the
Greeks," he continued, "notwithstanding their distinguished accomplishments,
were an idolatrous people. They worshipped gods that did not exist.
They built temples to divinities which were merely empty
names--empty names," he repeated. "Apollo and Athene--and the entire Olympian
lot were no more than inventions of the fancy."
"But the Greeks loved
their gods," I protested, my heart clamoring in my breast.
"They were
not gods, they were idols, and the difference between a god and an idol is
this: an idol is a thing; God is a living being. When you cannot prove the
existence of your god, when you have never seen him, nor heard his voice, nor
touched him--when you have nothing provable about him, he is an idol. Have
you seen Apollo? Have you heard him? Have you touched him?"
"No," I
said, in a low voice.
"Do you know of any one who has?"
I had to
admit that I did not.
"He was an idol, then, and not a god."
"But
many of us Greeks," I said, "have felt Apollo in our hearts and have been
inspired by him."
"You imagine you have," returned my guide. "If he were
really divine he would be living to this day."
"Is he, then, dead?" I
asked.
"He never lived; and for the last two thousand years or more
his temple has been a heap of ruins."
I wept to hear that Apollo, the
god of light and music, was no more--that his fair temple had fallen into
ruins and the fire upon his altar had been extinguished; then, wiping a tear
from my eyes, I said, "Oh, but our gods were fair and beautiful; our religion
was rich and picturesque. It made the Greeks a nation of poets, orators,
artists, warriors, thinkers. It made Athens a city of light; it created
the beautiful, the true, the good--yes, our religion was divine."
"It
had only one fault," interrupted my guide.
"What was that?" I inquired,
without knowing what his answer would be.
"It was not true."
"But
I still believe in Apollo," I exclaimed; "he is not dead, I know he is
alive."
"Prove it," he said to me; then, pausing for a moment, "if you
produce him," he said, "we shall all fall down and worship him. Produce
Apollo and he shall be our god."
"Produce him!" I whispered to myself.
"What blasphemy!" Then, taking heart, I told my guide how more than once I
had felt Apollo's radiant presence in my heart, and told him of the immortal
lines of Homer concerning the divine Apollo. "Do you doubt Homer?" I said to
him; "Homer, the inspired bard? Homer, whose inkwell was as big as the
sea; whose imperishable page was Time? Homer, whose every word was a
drop of light?" Then I proceeded to quote from Homer's _Iliad_, the
Greek Bible, worshipped by all the Hellenes as the rarest Manuscript
between heaven and earth. I quoted his description of Apollo, than whose
lyre nothing is more musical, than whose speech even honey is not
sweeter. I recited how his mother went from town to town to select a
worthy place to give birth to the young god, son of Zeus, the Supreme
Being, and how he was born and cradled amid the ministrations of all
the goddesses, who bathed him in the running stream and fed him
with nectar and ambrosia from Olympus. Then I recited the lines
which picture Apollo bursting his bands, leaping forth from his cradle,
and spreading his wings like a swan, soaring sunward, declaring that
he had come to announce to mortals the will of God. "Is it possible,"
I asked, "that all this is pure fabrication, a fantasy of the brain,
as unsubstantial as the air? No, no, Apollo is not an idol. He is a
god, and the son of a god. The whole Greek world will bear me witness that
I am telling the truth." Then I looked at my guide to see what impression
this outburst of sincere enthusiasm had produced upon him, and I saw a cold
smile upon his lips that cut me to the heart. It seemed as if he wished to
say to me, "You poor deluded pagan! You are not intelligent enough to know
that Homer was only a mortal after all, and that he was writing a play in
which he manufactured the gods of whom he sang--that these gods existed only
in his imagination, and that today they are as dead as is their inventor--the
poet."
By this time we stood at the entrance of a large edifice which
my guide said was "the House of God." As we walked in I saw
innumerable little lights blinking and winking all over the spacious
interior. There were, besides, pictures, altars and images all around me.
The air was heavy with incense; a number of men in gorgeous vestments
were passing to and fro, bowing and kneeling before the various lights and
images. The audience was upon its knees enveloped in silence--a silence so
solemn that it awed me. Observing my anxiety to understand the meaning of all
this, my guide took me aside and in a whisper told me that the people were
celebrating the anniversary of the birthday of their beautiful Savior--Jesus,
the Son of God.
"So was Apollo the son of God," I replied, thinking
perhaps that after all we might find ourselves in agreement with one
another.
"Forget Apollo," he said, with a suggestion of severity in his
voice. "There is no such person. He was only an idol. If you were to
search for Apollo in all the universe you would never find any one
answering to his name or description. Jesus," he resumed, "is the Son of God.
He came to our earth and was born of a virgin."
Again I was tempted to
tell my guide that that was how Apollo became incarnate; but I restrained
myself.
"Then Jesus grew up to be a man," continued my guide,
"performing unheard-of wonders, such as treading the seas, giving sight,
hearing and speech to the blind, the deaf and the dumb, converting water
into wine, feeding the multitudes miraculously, predicting coming
events and resurrecting the dead."
"Of course, of your gods, too," he
added, "it is claimed that they performed miracles, and of your oracles that
they foretold the future, but there is this difference--the things related of
your gods are a fiction, the things told of Jesus are a fact, and the
difference between Paganism and Christianity is the difference between
fiction and fact."
Just then I heard a wave of murmur, like the
rustling of leaves in a forest, sweep over the bowed audience. I turned about
and unconsciously, my Greek curiosity impelling me, I pushed
forward toward where the greater candle lights were blazing. I felt
that perhaps the commotion in the house was the announcement that the
God Jesus was about to make his appearance, and I wanted to see him.
I wanted to touch him, or, if the crowd were too large to allow me
that privilege, I wanted, at least, to hear his voice. I, who had
never seen a god, never touched one, never heard one speak, I who
had believed in Apollo without ever having known anything provable
about him, I wanted to see the real God, Jesus.
But my guide placed
his hand quickly upon my shoulder, and held me back.
"I want to see
Jesus," I hastened, turning toward him. I said this reverently and in good
faith. "Will he not be here this morning? Will he not speak to his
worshippers?" I asked again. "Will he not permit them to touch him, to caress
his hand, to clasp his divine feet, to inhale the ambrosial fragrance of his
breath, to bask in the golden light of his eyes, to hear the music of his
immaculate accents? Let me, too, see Jesus," I pleaded.
"You cannot
see him," answered my guide, with a trace of embarrassment in his voice. "He
does not show himself any more."
I was too much surprised at this to make
any immediate reply.
"For the last two thousand years," my guide
continued, "it has not pleased Jesus to show himself to any one; neither has
he been heard from for the same number of years."
"For two thousand
years no one has either seen or heard Jesus?" I asked, my eyes filled with
wonder and my voice quivering with excitement.
"No," he
answered.
"Would not that, then," I ventured to ask, impatiently, "make
Jesus as much of an idol as Apollo? And are not these people on their
knees before a god of whose existence they are as much in the dark as
were the Greeks of fair Apollo, and of whose past they have only
rumors such as Homer reports of our Olympian gods--as idolatrous as
the Athenians? What would you say," I asked my guide, "if I were to
demand that you should produce Jesus and prove him to my eyes and ears
as you have asked me to produce and prove Apollo? What is the
difference between a ceremony performed in honor of Apollo and one
performed in honor of Jesus, since it is as impossible to give
oracular demonstration of the existence of the one as of the other? If Jesus
is alive and a god, and Apollo is an idol and dead, what is the
evidence, since the one is as invisible, as inaccessible, and as
unproducible as the other? And, if faith that Jesus is a god proves him a
god, why will not faith in Apollo make him a god? But if worshipping
Jesus, whom for the best part of the last two thousand years no man has
seen, heard or touched; if building temples to him, burning incense upon
his altars, bowing at his shrine and calling him 'God,' is not
idolatry, neither is it idolatry to kindle fire upon the luminous altars of
the Greek Apollo,--God of the dawn, master of the enchanted lyre--he
with the bow and arrow tipped with fire! I am not denying," I said,
"that Jesus ever lived. He may have been alive two thousand years ago,
but if he has not been heard from since, if the same thing that
happened to the people living at the time he lived has happened to
him, namely--if he is dead, then you are worshipping the dead, which
fact stamps your religion as idolatrous."
And, then, remembering what
he had said to me about the Greek mythology being beautiful but not true, I
said to him: "Your temples are indeed gorgeous and costly; your music is
grand; your altars are superb; your litany is exquisite; your chants are
melting; your incense, and bells and flowers, your gold and silver vessels
are all in rare taste, and I dare say your dogmas are subtle and
your preachers eloquent, but your religion has one fault--_it is
not true_."
[Illustration: 022 Swastika. Earlier Form of the Cross.
]
[Illustration: 023 The Lamb in the Holy Sepulchre, Mosaic of the
IV Century, Sarcophagus of Luc de Bearn. Showing the Lamb on the
Cross.]
IN CONFIDENCE
I shall speak in a
straightforward way, and shall say today what perhaps I should say tomorrow,
or ten years from now,--but shall say it today, because I cannot keep it
back, because I have nothing better to say than the truth, or what I hold to
be the truth. But why seek truths that are not pleasant? We cannot help it.
No man can suppress the truth. Truth finds a crack or crevice to crop out of;
it bobs up to the surface and all the volume and weight of waters can not
keep it down. Truth prevails! Life, death, truth--behold, these three
no power can keep back. And since we are doomed to know the truth, let
us cultivate a love for it. It is of no avail to cry over lost
illusions, to long for vanished dreams, or to call to the departing gods to
come back. It may be pleasant to play with toys and dolls all our life,
but evidently we are not meant to remain children always. The time
comes when we must put away childish things and obey the summons of
truth, stern and high. A people who fear the truth can never be a
free people. If what I will say is the truth, do you know of any
good reason why I should not say it? And if for prudential reasons I
should sometimes hold back the truth, how would you know _when_ I am
telling what I believe to be the truth, and when I am holding it back
for reasons of policy?
The truth, however unwelcome, is not injurious;
it is error which raises false hopes, which destroys, degrades and pollutes,
and which, sooner or later, must be abandoned. Was it not Spencer, whom
Darwin called "our great philosopher," who said, "Repulsive as is its
aspect, the hard fact which dissipates a cherished illusion is presently
found to contain the germ of a more salutary belief?" Spain is
decaying today because her teachers, for policy's sake, are withholding
the disagreeable truth from the people. Holy water and sainted bones
can give a nation illusions and dreams, but never,--strength.
A
difficult subject is in the nature of a challenge to the mind. One difficult
task attempted is worth a thousand commonplace efforts completed. The
majority of people avoid the difficult and fear danger. But he who would
progress must even court danger. Political and religious liberty were
discovered through peril and struggle. The world owes its emancipation to
human daring. Had Columbus feared danger, America might have slept for
another thousand years.
I have a difficult subject in hand. It is also a
delicate one. But I am determined not only to know, if it is possible, the
whole truth about Jesus, but also to communicate that truth to others. Some
people can keep their minds shut. I cannot; I must share my
intellectual life with the world. If I lived a thousand years ago, I might
have collapsed at the sight of the burning stake, but I feel sure I
would have deserved the stake.
People say to me, sometimes, "Why do
you not confine yourself to moral and religious exhortation, such as, 'Be
kind, do good, love one another, etc.'?" But there is more of a moral tonic
in the open and candid discussion of a subject like the one in hand, than in
a multitude of platitudes. We feel our moral fiber stiffen into force and
purpose under the inspiration of a peril dared for the advancement of
truth.
"Tell us what you believe," is one of the requests
frequently addressed to me. I never deliver a lecture in which I do not,
either directly or indirectly, give full and free expression to my faith
in everything that is worthy of faith. If I do not believe in dogma, it is
because I believe in freedom. If I do not believe in one inspired book, it is
because I believe that all truth and only truth is inspired. If I do not ask
the gods to help us, it is because I believe in human help, so much more real
than supernatural help. If I do not believe in standing still, it is because
I believe in progress. If I am not attracted by the vision of a distant
heaven, it is because I believe in human happiness, now and here. If I do not
say "Lord, Lord!" to Jesus, it is because I bow my head to a greater Power
than Jesus, to a more efficient Savior than he has ever
been--Science!
"Oh, he tears down, but does not build up," is another
criticism about my work. It is not true. No preacher or priest is more
constructive. To build up their churches and maintain their creeds the
priests pulled down and destroyed the magnificent civilization of Greece
and Rome, plunging Europe into the dark and sterile ages which lasted over
a thousand years. When Galileo waved his hands for joy because he believed he
had enriched humanity with a new truth and extended the sphere of knowledge,
what did the church do to him? It conspired to destroy him. It shut him up in
a dungeon! Clapping truth into jail; gagging the mouth of the student--is
that building up or tearing down? When Bruno lighted a new torch to increase
the light of the world, what was his reward? The stake! During all the ages
that the church had the power to police the world, every time a thinker
raised his head he was clubbed to death. Do you think it is kind of us--does
it square with our sense of justice to call the priest constructive, and
the scientists and philosophers who have helped people to their feet--helped
them to self-government in politics, and to self-help in life,--destructive?
Count your rights--political, religious, social, intellectual--and tell me
which of them was conquered for you by the priest.
"He is irreverent,"
is still another hasty criticism I have heard advanced against the
rationalist. I wish to tell you something. But first let us be impersonal.
The epithets "irreverent," "blasphemer," "atheist," and "infidel," are flung
at a man, not from pity, but from envy. Not having the courage or the
industry of our neighbor who works like a busy bee in the world of men and
books, searching with the sweat of his brow for the real bread of life,
wetting the open page before him with his tears, pushing into the "wee" hours
of the night his quest, animated by the fairest of all loves, "the love
of truth",--we ease our own indolent conscience by calling him names.
We pretend that it is not because we are too lazy or too selfish to
work as hard or think as freely as he does, but because we do not want
to be as irreverent as he is that we keep the windows of our minds
shut. To excuse our own mediocrity we call the man who tries to get out of
the rut a "blasphemer." And so we ask the world to praise our indifference as
a great virtue, and to denounce the conscientious toil and thought of
another, as "blasphemy."
[Illustration: 029 The Lamb Standing Upon the
Gospels. VIII Century.]
IS JESUS A MYTH?
What is a
myth? A myth is a fanciful explanation of a given phenomenon. Observing the
sun, the moon, and the stars overhead, the primitive man wished to account
for them. This was natural. The mind craves for knowledge. The child asks
questions because of an inborn desire to know. Man feels ill at ease with a
sense of a mental vacuum, until his questions are answered. Before the days
of science, a fanciful answer was all that could be given to man's questions
about the physical world. The primitive man guessed where knowledge
failed him--what else could he do? A myth, then, is a guess, a story,
a speculation, or a fanciful explanation of a phenomenon, in the
absence of accurate information.
Many are the myths about the heavenly
bodies, which, while we call them myths, because we know better, were to the
ancients truths. The Sun and Moon were once brother and sister, thought the
child-man; but there arose a dispute between them; the woman ran away, and
the man ran after her, until they came to the end of the earth where land
and sky met. The woman jumped into the sky, and the man after her,
where they kept chasing each other forever, as Sun and Moon. Now and then
they came close enough to snap at each other. That was their explanation of
an eclipse. (Childhood of the World.--Edward Clodd.) With this mythus, the
primitive man was satisfied, until his developing intelligence realized its
inadequacy. Science was born of that realization.
During the middle
ages it was believed by Europeans that in certain parts of the world, in
India, for instance, there were people who had only one eye in the middle of
their foreheads, and were more like monsters than humans. This was imaginary
knowledge, which travel and research have corrected. The myth of a one-eyed
people living in India has been replaced by accurate information concerning
the Hindoos. Likewise, before the science of ancient languages
was perfected--before archaeology had dug up buried cities and
deciphered the hieroglyphics on the monuments of antiquity, most of our
knowledge concerning the earlier ages was mythical, that is to say, it
was knowledge not based on investigation, but made to order. Just as the
theologians still speculate about the other world, primitive man speculated
about this world. Even we moderns, not very long ago, believed, for instance,
that the land of Egypt was visited by ten fantastic plagues; that in one
bloody night every first born in the land was slain; that the angel of a
tribal-god dipped his hand in blood and printed a red mark upon the doors of
the houses of the Jews to protect them from harm; that Pharaoh and his armies
were drowned in the Red Sea; that the children of Israel wandered for forty
years around Mount Sinai; and so forth, and so forth. But now that we
can read the inscriptions on the stone pages dug out of ancient ruins;
now that we can compel a buried world to reveal its secret and to tell
us its story, we do not have to go on making myths about the
ancients. Myths die when history is born.
It will be seen from these
examples that there is no harm in myth-making if the myth is called a myth.
It is when we use our fanciful knowledge to deny or to shut out real and
scientific knowledge that the myth becomes a stumbling block. And this
is precisely the use to which myths have been put. The king with his sword
and the priest with his curses, have supported the myth against science. When
a man _pretends_ to believe that the _Santa Claus_ of his childhood is real,
and tries to compel also others to play a part, he becomes positively
immoral. There is no harm in believing in _Santa Claus_ as a myth, but there
is in pretending that he is real, because such an attitude of mind makes a
mere trifle of truth.
Is Jesus a myth? There is in man a faculty for
fiction. Before history was born, there was myth; before men could think,
they dreamed. It was with the human race in its infancy as it is with the
child. The child's imagination is more active than its reason. It is easier
for it to fancy even than to see. It thinks less than it guesses.
This wild flight of fancy is checked only by experience. It is
reflection which introduces a bit into the mouth of imagination, curbing its
pace and subduing its restless spirit. It is, then, as we grow older,
and, if I may use the word, riper, that we learn to distinguish
between fact and fiction, between history and myth.
In childhood we
need playthings, and the more fantastic and _bizarre_ they are, the better we
are pleased with them. We dream, for instance, of castles in the
air--gorgeous and clothed with the azure hue of the skies. We fill the space
about and over us with spirits, fairies, gods, and other invisible and airy
beings. We covet the rainbow. We reach out for the moon. Our feet do not
really begin to touch the firm ground until we have reached the years of
discretion.
I know there are those who wish they could always
remain children,--living in dreamland. But even if this were desirable,
it is not possible. Evolution is our destiny; of what use is it, then,
to take up arms against destiny?
Let it be borne in mind that all the
religions of the world were born in the childhood of the race.
Science
was not born until man had matured. There is in this thought a world of
meaning.
Children make religions.
Grown up people create
science.
The cradle is the womb of all the fairies and faiths of
mankind.
The school is the birthplace of science.
Religion is the
science of the child.
Science is the religion of the matured
man.
In the discussion of this subject, I appeal to the mature, not
to the child mind. I appeal to those who have cultivated a taste
for truth--who are not easily scared, but who can "screw their courage to
the sticking point" and follow to the end truth's leading. The multitude is
ever joined to its idols; let them alone. I speak to the discerning
few.
There is an important difference between a lecturer and an
ordained preacher. The latter can command a hearing in the name of God, or
in the name of the Bible. He does not have to satisfy his hearers
about the reasonableness of what he preaches. He is God's mouthpiece,
and no one may disagree with him. He can also invoke the authority of the
church and of the Christian world to enforce acceptance of his teaching. The
only way I may command your respect is to be reasonable. You will not listen
to me for God's sake, nor for the Bible's sake, nor yet for the love of
heaven, or the fear of hell. My only protection is to be rational--to be
truthful. In other words, the preacher can afford to ignore common sense in
the name of Revelation. But if I depart from it in the least, or am caught
once playing fast and loose with the facts, I will irretrievably lose my
standing.
[Illustration: 035 In Use Upon Heathen Altars Centuries
Before Christianity.]
Our answer to the question, Is Jesus a Myth?
must depend more or less upon original research, as there is very little
written on the subject. The majority of writers assume that a person
answering to the description of Jesus lived some two thousand years ago. Even
the few who entertain doubts on the subject, seem to hold that while there
is a large mythical element in the Jesus story, nevertheless there is
a historical nucleus round which has clustered the elaborate legend of the
Christ. In all probability, they argue, there was a man called Jesus, who
said many helpful things, and led an exemplary life, and all the miracles and
wonders represent the accretions of fond and pious ages.
Let us place
ourselves entirely in the hands of the evidence. As far as possible, let us
be passive, showing no predisposition one way or another. We can afford to be
independent. If the evidence proves the historicity of Jesus, well and good;
if the evidence is not sufficient to prove it, there is no reason why we
should fear to say so; besides, it is our duty to inform ourselves on this
question. As intelligent beings we desire to know whether this Jesus, whose
worship is not only costing the world millions of the people's money, but
which is also drawing to his service the time, the energies, the affection,
the devotion, and the labor of humanity,--is a myth, or a reality.
We believe that all religious persecutions, all sectarian wars,
hatreds and intolerance, which still cramp and embitter our humanity,
would be replaced by love and brotherhood, if the sects could be made
to see that the God-Jesus they are quarreling over is a myth, a shadow to
which credulity alone gives substance. Like people who have been fighting in
the dark, fearing some danger, the sects, once relieved of the thraldom of a
tradition which has been handed down to them by a childish age and country,
will turn around and embrace one another. In every sense, the subject is an
all-absorbing one. It goes to the root of things; it touches the vital parts,
and it means life or death to the Christian religion.
[Illustration:
037 Ascension of Jesus, Ninth Century.]
[Illustration: 038 Juno Nursing
Her Divine Child, Mars.]
THE PROBLEM STATED
Let me now
give an idea of the method I propose to follow in the study of this subject.
Let us suppose that a student living in the year 3000 desired to make sure
that such a man as Abraham Lincoln really lived and did the things attributed
to him. How would he go about it?
A man must have a birthplace and a
birthday. All the records agree as to where and when Lincoln was born. This
is not enough to prove his historicity, but it is an important link in the
chain.
Neither the place nor the time of Jesus' birth is known.
There has never been any unanimity about this matter. There has
been considerable confusion and contradiction about it. It cannot be
proved that the twenty-fifth of December is his birthday. A number of
other dates were observed by the Christian church at various times as
the birthday of Jesus. The Gospels give no date, and appear to be
quite uncertain--really ignorant about it. When it is remembered that
the Gospels purport to have been written by Jesus' intimate
companions, and during the lifetime of his brothers and mother, their silence
on this matter becomes significant. The selection of the twenty-fifth
of December as his birthday is not only an arbitrary one, but that
date, having been from time immemorial dedicated to the Sun, the
inference is that the Son of God and the Sun of heaven enjoying the
same birthday, were at one time identical beings. The fact that
Jesus' death was accompanied with the darkening of the Sun, and that the
date of his resurrection is also associated with the position of the Sun
at the time of the vernal equinox, is a further intimation that we have in
the story of the birth, death, and resurrection of Jesus, an ancient and
nearly universal Sun-myth, instead of verifiable historical events. The story
of Jesus for three days in the heart of the earth; of Jonah, three days in
the belly of a fish; of Hercules, three days in the belly of a whale, and of
Little Red Riding Hood, sleeping in the belly of a great black wolf,
represent the attempt of primitive man to explain the phenomenon of Day and
Night. The Sun is swallowed by a dragon, a wolf, or a whale, which plunges
the world into darkness; but the dragon is killed, and the Sun rises
triumphant to make another Day. This ancient Sun myth is the starting
point of nearly all miraculous religions, from the days of Egypt to
the twentieth century.
[Illustration: 041 The Persian God, Mithra. All
the Gods Have the Solar Disc Around Their Heads, Showing That Sun-Worship Was
One of the Earliest Forms of Religion.]
The story which Mathew relates
about a remarkable star, which sailing in the air pointed out to some unnamed
magicians the cradle or cave in which the wonder-child was born, helps
further to identify Jesus with the Sun. What became of this "performing"
star, or of the magicians, and their costly gifts, the records do not say. It
is more likely that it was the astrological predilections of the gospel
writer which led him to assign to his God-child a star in the heavens. The
belief that the stars determine human destinies is a very ancient
one. Such expressions in our language as "ill-starred," "a lucky
star," "disaster," "lunacy," and so on, indicate the hold which
astrology once enjoyed upon the human mind. We still call a
melancholy man, _Saturnine_; a cheerful man, _Jovial_; a quick-tempered
man, _Mercurial_; showing how closely our ancestors associated
the movements of celestial bodies with human affairs. * The
prominence, therefore, of the sun and stars in the Gospel story tends to show
that Jesus is an astrological rather than a historical character.
*Childhood of the World.--Edward Clodd.
That the time of his birth, his
death, and supposed resurrection is _not_ verifiable is generally
admitted.
This uncertainty robs the story of Jesus, to an extent at
least, of the atmosphere of reality.
The twenty-fifth of December is
celebrated as his birthday. Yet there is no evidence that he was born on that
day. Although the Gospels are silent as to the date on which Jesus was born,
there is circumstantial evidence in the accounts given of the event to show
that the twenty-fifth of December could not have been his birthday. It snows
in Palestine, though a warmer country, and we know that in December there
are no shepherds tending their flocks in the night time in that country.
Often at this time of the year the fields and hills are covered with snow.
Hence, if the shepherds sleeping in the fields really saw the heavens open
and heard the angel-song, in all probability it was in some other month of
the year, and not late in December. We know, also, that early in the history
of Christianity the months of May and June enjoyed the honor of containing
the day of Jesus' birth.
[Illustration: 043 Isis Nursing Her Divine
Child, 3000 B. C.]
Of course, it is immaterial on which day Jesus was
born, but why is it not known? Yet not only is the date of his birth a matter
of conjecture, but also the year in which he was born. Matthew, one of the
Evangelists, suggests that Jesus was born in King Herod's time, for it was
this king who, hearing from the Magi that a King of the Jews was born,
decided to destroy him; but Luke, another Evangelist, intimates that Jesus
was born when Quirinus was ruler of Judea, which makes the date of Jesus'
birth about fourteen years later than the date given by Matthew. Why this
discrepancy in a historical document, to say nothing about inspiration? The
theologian might say that this little difficulty was introduced purposely
into the scriptures to establish its infallibility, but it is only religious
books that are pronounced infallible on the strength of the contradictions
they contain.
Again, Matthew says that to escape the evil designs of
Herod, Mary and Joseph, with the infant Jesus, fled into Egypt, Luke says
nothing about this hurried flight, nor of Herod's intention to kill the
infant Messiah. On the contrary he tells us that after the forty days
of purification were over Jesus was publicly presented at the
temple, where Herod, if he really, as Matthew relates, wished to seize
him, could have done so without difficulty. It is impossible to
reconcile the flight to Egypt with the presentation in the temple, and
this inconsistency is certainly insurmountable and makes it look as if
the narrative had no value whatever as history.
When we come to the
more important chapters about Jesus, we meet with greater difficulties. Have
you ever noticed that the day on which Jesus is supposed to have died falls
invariably on a Friday? What is the reason for this? It is evident that
nobody knows, and nobody ever knew the date on which the Crucifixion took
place, if it ever took place. It is so obscure and so mythical that an
artificial day has been fixed by the Ecclesiastical councils. While it is
always on a Friday that the Crucifixion is commemorated, the week in which
the day occurs varies from year to year. "Good Friday" falls not before
the spring equinox, but as soon after the spring equinox as the full
moon allows, thus making the calculation to depend upon the position of
the sun in the Zodiac and the phases of the moon. But that was
precisely the way the day for the festival of the pagan goddess Oestera
was determined. The Pagan Oestera has become the Christian Easter.
Does not this fact, as well as those already touched upon, make the
story of Jesus to read very much like the stories of the Pagan
deities.
The early Christians, Origin, for instance, in his reply to
the rationalist Celsus who questioned the reality of Jesus, instead
of producing evidence of a historical nature, appealed to the mythology of
the pagans to prove that the story of Jesus was no more incredible than those
of the Greek and Roman gods. This is so important that we refer our readers
to Origin's own words on the subject. "Before replying to Celsus, it is
necessary to admit that in the matter of history, however true it might be,"
writes this Christian Father, "it is often very difficult and sometimes quite
impossible to establish its truth by evidence which shall be considered
sufficient." * This is a plain admission that as early as the second and
third centuries the claims put forth about Jesus did not admit of positive
historical demonstration. But in the absence of evidence Origin offers
the following metaphysical arguments against the sceptical Celsus: 1. Such
stories as are told of Jesus are admitted to be true when told of pagan
divinities, why can they not also be true when told of the Christian Messiah?
2. They must be true because they are the fulfillment of Old Testament
prophecies. In other words, the only proofs Origin can bring forth against
the rationalistic criticism of Celsus is, that to deny Jesus would be
equivalent to denying both the Pagan and Jewish mythologies. If Jesus is not
real, says Origin, then Apollo was not real, and the Old Testament prophecies
have not been fulfilled. If we are to have any mythology at all, he seems to
argue, why object to adding to it the mythus of Jesus? There could not
be a more damaging admission than this from one of the most
conspicuous defenders of Jesus' story against early criticism.
*
Origin _Contre Celse._ 1. 58 et Suiv. Ibid.
Justin Martyr, another early
Father, offers the following argument against unbelievers in the Christian
legend: "When we say also that the Word, which is the first birth of God, was
produced without sexual union, and that he, Jesus Christ, our teacher, was
crucified, died, and rose again, and ascended into heaven, we propound
nothing different from what you believe regarding those whom you esteem
sons of Jupiter." * Which is another way of saying that the
Christian mythus is very similar to the pagan, and should therefore be
equally true. Pressing his argument further, this interesting Father
discovers many resemblances between what he himself is preaching and what
the pagans have always believed: "For you know how many sons your
esteemed writers ascribe to Jupiter. Mercury, the interpreting word (he
spells this word with a small _w_ while in the above quotation he uses
a capital _W_ to denote the Christian incarnation) and teacher of all;
Aesculapius...who ascended to heaven; one Hercules...and Perseus;...and
Bellerophon, who, though sprung from mortals, rose to heaven on the horses of
Pegasus." ** If Jupiter can have, Justin Martyr seems to reason, half a dozen
divine sons, why cannot Jehovah have at least one?
* First
Apology, Chapter xxi (Anti-Nicene Library).
**
Ibid.
[Illustration: 048 The Unsexed Christ, Naked In the Church of
St. Antoine, Tours, France.]
Instead of producing historical evidence
or appealing to creditable documents, as one would to prove the existence of
a Caesar or an Alexander, Justin Martyr draws upon pagan mythology in his
reply to the critics of Christianity. All he seems to ask for is that Jesus
be given a higher place among the divinities of the ancient world.
To
help their cause the Christian apologists not infrequently also changed the
sense of certain Old Testament passages to make them support the miraculous
stories in the New Testament. For example, having borrowed from Oriental
books the story of the god in a manger, surrounded by staring animals, the
Christian fathers introduced a prediction of this event into the following
text from the book of Habakkuk in the Bible: "Accomplish thy work in the
midst of the _years_, in the midst of the years make known, etc." * This
Old Testament text appeared in the Greek translation as follows:
"Thou shalt manifest thyself in the midst of _two animals_" which
was fulfilled of course when Jesus was born in a stable. How weak must
be one's case to resort to such tactics in order to command a
following! And when it is remembered that these follies were deemed
necessary to prove the reality of what has been claimed as the most
stupendous event in all history, one can readily see upon how fragile
a foundation is built the story of the Christian God-man.
* Heb.
iii. 2.
Let us continue: Abraham Lincoln's associates and contemporaries
are all known to history. The immediate companions of Jesus appear to
be, on the other hand, as mythical as he is himself. Who was Matthew?
Who was Mark? Who were John, Peter, Judas, and Mary? There is
absolutely no evidence that they ever existed. They are not mentioned except
in the New Testament books, which, as we shall see, are "supposed" copies
of "supposed" originals. If Peter ever went to Rome with a new doctrine, how
is it that no historian has taken note of him? If Paul visited Athens and
preached from Mars Hill, how is it that there is no mention of him or of his
strange Gospel in the Athenian chronicles? For all we know, both Peter and
Paul may have really existed, but it is only a guess, as we have no means of
ascertaining. The uncertainty about the apostles of Jesus is quite in keeping
with the uncertainty about Jesus himself.
The report that Jesus had
twelve apostles seems also mythical. The number twelve, like the number
seven, or three, or forty, plays an important role in all Sun-myths, and
points to the twelve signs of the Zodiac. Jacob had twelve sons; there were
twelve tribes of Israel; twelve months in the year; twelve gates or pillars
of heaven, etc. In many of the religions of the world, the number twelve is
sacred. There have been few god-saviors who did not have twelve apostles
or messengers. In one or two places, in the New Testament, Jesus is
made to send out "the seventy" to evangelize the world. Here again we see
the presence of a myth. It was believed that there were seventy different
nations in the world--to each nation an apostle. Seventy wise men are
supposed to have translated the Old Testament, sitting in seventy different
cells. That is why their translation is called "_the Septuagint_" But it is
all a legend, as there is no evidence of seventy scholars working in seventy
individual cells on the Hebrew Bible. One of the Church Fathers declares that
he saw these seventy cells with his own eyes. He was the only one who saw
them.
That the "Twelve Apostles" are fanciful may be inferred from
the obscurity in which the greater number of them have remained.
Peter, Paul, John, James, Judas, occupy the stage almost exclusively.
If Paul was an apostle, we have fourteen, instead of twelve. Leaving
out Judas, and counting Matthias, who was elected in his place, we have
thirteen apostles. |
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