1. Thus, if the record has its difficulties, and its seeming contradictions, so had He. It did not appear that "Jesus of Nazareth" was born, (according to the prophet Micah's prediction,) at Bethlehem[250]. His title perplexed even Nathanael[251].—He was called the son of Joseph, even by the Blessed Virgin[252]. How then could He be the Son of God? And how was the famous prophecy of Isaiah fulfilled in Him[253]?—He grew up in a lowly estate. Once He is called "the carpenter[254]." How then could He be of the Royal House of David? And so, in many other respects, did He, in His own person, present the self-same class of difficulties to the world's eye which His Gospel presents to ours:—"the sixteenth of Tiberius,"—the two genealogies,—"Cyrenius,"—"the days of Abiathar,"—"Jeremy the prophet,"—and so on.
2. Somewhat less obvious, but not less true, is the unattractive aspect, at first sight, of the Gospel. Verily there is, until we become intimately acquainted with it, "no beauty that we should desire" it.—The style, (full of interest, to those who have tried to understand it a little,) is not, I suppose, what critics would call altogether a good style.—The Greek is not what learned men call pure.—Many a word, (brimfull of meaning to those who will give to the words of the Gospel their best care,) reminds one, that neither did He speak what, in the capital of Jewry, was accounted a classical idiom. He employed the accent of the despised Galilee.—The very reasoning, (until you give it your heart's homage and best attention,) often seems to be either inconsequential, or to contain a fallacy. Certain words of our Lord have been even cited as fallacious by a celebrated Divine whose writings we are all familiar with[255]. Now, His words were disregarded, cavilled at, made light of, in just the same manner.
3. Most surprising of all is the analogy observable between the union of the Divine and the human element in the Gospels,—and the strictly parallel union, as it seems, of the two natures, the Divine and the Human, in the person of our Lord.—As He was perfect and faultless, so do we deem it infallible also, without spot or blemish of any kind. We reject as monstrous any 'theory of Inspiration,' (as it is called,) which imputes blunders to the work of the Holy Ghost.—As, further, we claim for our Lord's recorded human actions mysterious significancy, so do we seem warranted in looking for a mysterious purpose, a divine meaning, in every expression of the written Word.—Lastly, although we may, nay we must, admit such a Divine and such a human element, we must altogether deny the possibility of separating the one from the other. We cannot separate Scripture into human and Divine. Like the Incarnate Word, the Gospel is at once both human and Divine, yet one and indivisible. And the method of its inspiration is as great a difficulty in its way, and as much beyond our ken, as the nature of the union of the Godhead and the Manhood in the one person of Christ.
For whatever reason, and whether you please to accept the foregoing remarks or not, it is a plain fact that the Gospel is now in the world, fulfilling the same office towards mankind, which our Saviour Christ Himself fulfilled, and experiencing the same treatment at the hands of men in return. It is leavening society indeed, and remodelling the world, even while it is practically overlooked by politicians or experiencing evil treatment from them. It wins its way silently and secretly, yet surely; and it works miracles here and there. Moreover, it divides opinion; separating, as it will for ever separate, the light from the darkness[256]. It is slighted, and overlooked, and neglected by some; even while, by others, it is embraced with joy unspeakable. 'The humble and meek' adore it; even while, by the proud and rebellious, it is after a most strange fashion cavilled at, called in question, and denied. We specify the Gospel, instinctively, as that part of the Inspired Word which chiefly concerns ourselves, as Christian men; but the entire deposit shares the same fate. I do not think I am delivering a paradox when I say that the Bible is generally very little read. That the amount of study commonly bestowed upon it bears no proportion whatever to its transcendent importance and paramount value, shall not be any paradox at all; but a mere truism.
For I entreat you to consider, (trite and obvious as it may sound,) What have we, in the whole wide world, which may be put in competition with that Book which contains God's revelation of Himself to man? In its early portions, how does it go back to the very birthday of Time, and discourse of things which were done in the grey of that early morning! How mysterious is the record,—so methodical, so particular, so unique; preserving the very words which were syllabled in Paradise, and describing transactions which no one but the Holy Ghost is competent to declare! Come lower down, and where will you find more beautiful narratives,—still fresh at the end of three and four thousand years,—than those stories of Patriarchs, Judges, Kings, which wrap up divinest teaching in all their ordinary details: where every word is weighed in a heavenly balance, fraught with a divine purpose, and intended for some glorious issue: where the very characters are adumbrations of personages far greater than themselves; and where the course of events is made to preach to us, at this distant day, of the things which concern our peace! Is it a light thing again to know in what terms Isaiah, and the rest of "the goodly fellowship," when they opened their lips to speak in that remote age, foretold of the coming of the Son of Man?... But all seems to grow pale before the Everlasting Gospel, and the other writings of the New Testament. Surely we have become too familiar with the providence which has preserved to us the very words of the four Evangelists, if we can bend our thoughts in the direction of the Gospel without a throb of joy and wonder not to be described, at having so great a treasure placed within our easy reach. Can it indeed be, that I may listen while the disciple whom Jesus loved is discoursing of the miracles, and recalling the sayings of his Lord? May I hear St. Peter himself address the early Church,—or know the precise words of the message which St. Jude sent to the first believers,—or be shown the Epistle which the Lord's cousin addressed "to the Twelve Tribes scattered abroad"? How does it happen that the Book is not for ever in our hands which comes to us with such claims to our undivided homage?
But, on the contrary, it has become the fashion in certain quarters, on every imaginable pretext, to call in question the credibility of the Bible. It seems to be the taste of the age to invent hazy difficulties and dim objections to its statements. Inspiration, under a miserable attempt to explain it, is openly explained away. And the theory, however crude and preposterous, is tolerated: at least it escapes castigation. It cannot fail but that the unlearned and thoughtless ones of this generation will be growing up in a notion that these are open questions after all, and that "Truth" is but a name,—not a thing worth contending, aye dying for, if need be! The reason is but too obvious. It must be, partly, because we do not in reality prize the deposit nearly so much as we suppose. Partly, because of the indifferentism which is everywhere so prevalent. Partly too because, notwithstanding our intellectual activity, we are not a really learned body. And partly, it must be confessed, the reason is, because Theology has become so nearly a prostrate study with us, and because men really able to do battle for the Truth are somewhat hard to find. Nor is there any reasonable prospect of improvement either; for those who go forth from this place into the Ministry, go with such slender preparation, that it would be truer to say that they go with none at all.
Now, it would be a mere waste of time, to inveigh for half an hour against the indifferentism, or the spurious liberality, of the age: and it would be a most unbecoming proceeding, (not to say a highly distasteful one,) from this place to be suggesting remedies for an evil which already lies very near the heart of every serious man among us; and which, if discussed at all, must be discussed elsewhere. To say the truth, while the neglect of Theology, and the low ebb of Theological attainments in our Clergy, is generally recognized, the remedy for the evil is by no means so clear. From this subject, then, I pass at once: and I shall content myself with the far humbler task, of urging upon the younger men present,—those especially who are destined for the Ministry,—one act of preparation, one duty, about which, at all events, there cannot be any difference of opinion: I mean the duty of applying themselves, now, to the patient study of the Bible.
The thing is soon said; but the hint requires expanding a little, in order that it may become of any practical use.—By the "study of the Bible," I do not mean a chapter occasionally read with care: nor even a chapter regularly conned over at night; when a convivial meeting has blunted the edge of observation, or severe study has exhausted the powers of the brain. The devotional use of a portion of Holy Scripture is quite a distinct affair. Still less would the practice satisfy me of following the lessons in the College Chapel: and this for reasons so obvious that I will not stop to point them out. Nor even is the reading of the Bible in College Lecture, the thing I mean; for reasons also which any acute person will readily ascertain for himself. None of these methods of acquainting yourselves with the contents of the Bible come up to the thing I contemplate, although each is good in its way; and of course I am not speaking in disparagement of any.
No. The thing I would so strenuously urge upon you, is,—that, during your undergraduate period, you should read the whole Bible consecutively through, from one end to the other, by yourself and for yourself, with consummate method, care, and attention. The fundamental conditions of such a study of the Bible, in order to make it of any real use, are these:—
1. First, that you should deliberately apportion to this solemn duty the best and freshest and quietest half-hour in the whole day; and then, that you should determine, let what will go undone, never to abridge that half-hour. You may sometimes be enabled to afford a little more time to the chapter: but you will find it quite fatal ever to devote a shorter period to it. And half an hour, if you employ it in right good earnest, at present, must be thought enough.