The Real Jesus of the Four Gospels

by John Birdseye Atwater

The persistent weakness of every religion is to gradually forget, or ignore, the spiritual unity of its supreme divinity with his human followers. Whatever may have been the conception of the Deity by the first great teacher, he soon comes to be regarded as a Being apart, like the deified monarchs of ancient times, and as one who can be pleased, or his wrath averted, by offerings and sacrifices. Practically all religions having their beginning from barbarous races are founded on sacrifices of animals, and usually of human beings. Even fairly well civilized nations are not offended by legends describing human sacrifices as being welcome to God. Examples of this are Abraham and Isaac among the Jews, Iphigenia at Aulis among the Greeks, and Curtius among the Romans. The ceremonies attending the rendition of these offerings and sacrifices form often the most important part of the religion, as is illustrated by the innumerable minute regulations contained in the Mosaic books of the Old Testament.

But Jesus' conception of the Heavenly Father was essentially unique in ever realizing the spiritual unity existing between the Father in heaven and His Son Jesus and His other children on earth. Mark the difference between Moses and Jesus in the matter of divine communications. Moses' messages to the Jews are the results of direct and separate interviews with the Almighty. He sees Him in the bush, or in the fire, and hears Him from the clouds. But all this is unnecessary with Jesus. He and the Father are one, and when He speaks, the Father speaks through Him. In the beautiful words of Renan:

"Jesus had no visions; God did not speak to Him as to one outside of Himself; God was in Him; He felt Himself with God, and He drew from His heart all He said of His Father. He lived in the bosom of God by constant communication with Him; he saw Him not, but he understood Him, without need of the thunder and the burning bush of Moses, of the revealing tempests of Job, of the oracle of the old Greek sages, of the familiar genius of Socrates, or of the angel Gabriel of Mahomet. The imagination and the hallucination of a St. Theresa, for example, are useless here. The intoxication of the Soufi, proclaiming himself identical with God, is also quite another thing. Jesus never once gave utterance to the sacrilegious idea that He was God. He believed Himself to be in direct communication with God; He believed Himself to be the Son of God. The highest consciousness of God which has existed in the bosom of humanity was that of Jesus."

With this conception of God, the idea of offerings or sacrifices to please or placate Him becomes unthinkable. All He asks of His earthly children is that they lead a God-like life.

Human nature, however, seems too weak to free itself from this superstition of a Supreme Being to be pleased and His wrath averted. But, as a nation becomes more civilized and spiritualized, the manifestation of this superstition takes on different forms. The smoking altars with their living victims disappear, and, in a measure, the material offerings of shields and other weapons, chariots, gold and silver vessels, jewels, etc. But their place is taken by rites and ceremonies, of which prayer is always foremost. The pilgrimages, votive offerings, masses, adoration of holy places, long prayers (especially for victory over our enemies), elaborate church ceremonials, public fastings, erection of expensive churches "to the glory of God," legacies to "pious uses," etc., of the present day are the legitimate successors of the "fat thighs" of the Greeks, and the Shew-bread of the Jews—offerings to win the favor of a possibly offended or indifferent Deity. We laugh at the "prayer-mill" of the Hindus, but the idea is the same as procuring better treatment for your departed soul by purchasing the performance of long "masses," if you have sufficient wealth.

At the time of Jesus the Jewish religion, as moulded by the Pharisees, was dominated by the spirit of formalism. Attendance at the synagogue, public prayers and fasting, observance of minute Sabbatical and other regulations, were made of more importance than visiting the sick, helping the poor, succoring the widow and orphan, etc. But the essence of Jesus' religion was the living of an every-day godlike life, not the adherence to certain creeds or dogmas, or the performance of rites and ceremonies. In this formalism He recognized His most dangerous enemy. It was a deep-rooted evil and hard to eradicate. One of its inherent dangers is the easy cloak it lends to hypocrisy, and, like the poor, the Pecksniffs we will always have with us.

Consequently we find Jesus early and late inveighing against the "long prayers" of the Pharisees and heathen, and the bitterest term He can apply to the Pharisees is "ye hypocrites." When He comes to instruct His disciples on the subject of prayer, it is quite probable that He would have interdicted it altogether, except for that sane temperance which was so fundamental an element of His character. He recognized the essential uselessness of prayer addressed to an all-good and all-wise Father, since He knows what is best for each person without being instructed, and from His great goodness will do what is best for each person without being asked.

"For your Father knoweth what things ye have need of before ye ask Him" (Matt. VI:8).

Jesus therefore carefully enjoins on His disciples that they shall not pray in the synagogue, but "when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to the Father which is in secret" (Matt. VI:5, 6). He also cautions them against long prayers—"use not vain repetitions as the heathen do" (Matt. VI:7).

He then gives them a short, simple prayer, as a model for their efforts.