But it may be further shown what Jesus meant to teach by reference to his own life and the lives of his first followers. There is little or no evidence in the Gospels or elsewhere that Jesus or his first disciples ever possessed any earthly goods whatever, or that they ever engaged in any of the useful or wealth-producing avocations of the country in which they lived. Matthew speaks of Jesus as the son of a carpenter, and Mark calls him “the carpenter, the son of Mary.” The fervid imaginations of modern writers have depicted Jesus as an apprentice to his father and laboring at the carpenter’s trade, but there is no evidence that he ever pushed a plane or drove a nail. There is no reason to believe that he ever erected a house for others, and it is certain that he never built a house for himself, for he has told us that “the foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man has not where to lay his head.” There is not in any of the Gospels one single word accredited to Jesus in favor of industrial pursuits, not one syllable to justify the accumulation of property, or any forethought whatever for sickness, for helpless infancy, or tottering age.
When Jesus sent out his disciples he expressly forbade them to make any provision for food or raiment. He said, “Provide neither gold or silver nor brass in your purses, nor scrip for your journey, neither two coats, neither shoes, nor yet staves, for the workman is worthy of his meat.” They were to throw themselves upon the charities of the world, accept such things as were given them, and to manifest the utmost indifference to worldly comforts. There is no evidence that any of the followers of Jesus who listened to his personal instructions ever engaged in any worldly avocation, except to catch a mess of fish when driven by hunger to do so. They lived from “hand to mouth,” and if they had lived in our day they would, every one of them, have been denominated “tramps,” and would have been amenable to our modern laws of vagrancy. ’Tis true, there seems to have been some sort of care about future possible wants, but only on the communistic principle. They had a treasurer in the person of Judas Iscariot, but no individual possessions were allowed. We are told (Acts 4: 26) regarding early Christians, “Neither was there any among them that lacked; for as many as were possessors of lands or houses sold them and brought the prices of the things that were sold, and laid them down at the apostles' feet, and distribution was made unto every man according as he had need.” In Acts 2:44, 45 the facts are also fully set forth: “And all that believed were together and had all things common, and sold their possessions and goods, and parted them to all men as every man had need.” Whatever was allowed as a community, it is certain that no individual was allowed to accumulate or retain property on his own personal account.
In perfect consistency with the view here presented Jesus taught that the possession of riches was almost sure to debar one from heaven—that while it might be possible for a rich man to be saved, because all things are possible with God, nevertheless it is “easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter into heaven.” Riches were always denounced by Jesus, and poverty eulogized as if it were a virtue in itself, commending one to the favor of God and greatly increasing his prospects for the heavenly inheritance. If the triple testimony of the synoptical Gospels amounts to anything, it shows beyond a doubt that Jesus would accept no man as a disciple who continued in the possession of worldly property, or who accumulated earthly riches, or who allowed himself to think of the future necessaries of life, even food and clothing. At the same time, the most promiscuous and profuse almsgiving was enjoined: “Sell all that thou hast and give unto the poor,” was the literal injunction. “Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.”
Besides this, he required absolute non-resistance: “But I say unto you that ye resist not evil, but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek turn to him the other also “And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain “And if any man will sue thee at the law and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also.” This is even more than non-resistance; it is a reward for unprincipled men to impose upon you. It would be impossible to state the principle of absolute non-resistance in stronger language. But modern commentators tell us that Jesus did not intend to be so understood—that he merely intended to condemn the spirit of strife and retaliation. Why, then, did he not say so? Which shall we accept—what Jesus plainly and repeatedly said, or what commentators say he meant?
What are we to say about the doctrine of bodily mutilation taught in the Sermon on the Mount (Matt. 5: 29, 30)? Theologians of to-day tell us that these words are to be taken in a metaphorical sense—that to secure salvation we must sacrifice every passion that would lead us into sin, though it might be as dear as a right hand, foot, or eye. The reason assigned by Jesus for enforcing this precept cannot be reconciled with the assumption that it was intended to be figurative: “For it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell.” If by members of the body Jesus meant principles or passions that might tempt and entrap one into evil, we must charge upon the precept the absurdity that it would be better to enter into heaven with one evil principle or passion than to be cast into hell with many evil principles and passions! The literal interpretation is favored by the fact that in ancient times bodily mutilation was recognized in religious matters. In Matt. 19:12, Jesus is reported to have said, “And there be eunuchs, which have made themselves eunuchs for the kingdom of heaven’s sake. He that is able to receive it, let him receive it.” If this is not a sanction of bodily mutilation, what can it mean? That it was understood literally by many early Christians cannot be denied. The ascetics of the second century practised the most extreme literal mortification of the flesh, and even in the middle of the third century Origen, one of the most learned of the Christian Fathers, destroyed his own manhood by bodily mutilation as an act of piety. Much curious matter upon this subject may be found in Mosheim’s Ecclesiastical History, page 310, and also Gibbon’s Decline and Fall, chap. xv. and notes.
The fairest and most reasonable way to ascertain what Jesus taught is to study his own life, and then to follow his example. It will be somewhat startling to many when we announce the proposition that the religion of the Christian Gospels is monastic and ascetic in the extreme, and that Jesus himself was an ascetic, and that he required his disciples to become such. One thing is certain: No man can study the character of Jesus and his teachings, his own life and the career of his immediate disciples, without admitting the monkish character of their religion. It was emphatically the religion of sorrow, the religion not only of anti-naturalism, but of unnaturalism. It virtually said: “Whatever is natural is wrong; whatever you desire is wrong. To do what is painful is right, while to do what you want to do is certain ruin. Life must be one incessant wail of suffering if it is to be followed with eternal blessedness. The body is the enemy of the soul, and the world the enemy of God. Worldly prosperity is a curse in disguise, while poverty and want and persecution and suffering of all kinds are indications of the divine favor.” (See Secret of the East, by Dr. Felix L. Oswald.)
At the very commencement of his public career Jesus formed an alliance with that hardiest of anchorites known as John the Baptist, and in all the Gospels the close relationship between the missions of John and Jesus is constantly recognized. It is a tradition of the early Church that Jesus was never known to smile, and there is an implication in the Gospels that his face was prematurely old. He recommended a life of religious mendicancy and voluntary poverty as absolutely necessary for admission to his kingdom.
But there was scarce anything in the teachings of Jesus that had not been insisted upon for hundreds of years before by the monks of India, Egypt, and other countries. It is impossible to go into details, but no man of reading will deny this allegation. Like the ancient monks, Jesus practised long fastings and abstained from flesh meats, though he ate fish and vegetables. He neither possessed nor sought to acquire any worldly property. While going about the streets and the seashore teaching by day, he generally resorted, like ancient monks, to the mountains and wilderness at night, and his principal religious devotions were performed in the darkness of midnight. He abstained from marriage, and had but little regard for the domestic relations. Asceticism was the distinguishing characteristic of the early Church, and the doctrine of the community of goods was practically received by the Church for two hundred years, and is so received by many to-day.
So far from practically condemning the literal teachings of Jesus as we find them in the Gospels, we take the ground that they were just what might have been expected from one holding the doctrine that the world was about to be destroyed and a new kingdom established upon the regenerated earth, of which he was to be the king and his disciples the princes. If there was anything definite in the teachings of Jesus, it was the speedy coming of the end of the world. Carefully study the twenty-fourth chapter of Matthew, the thirteenth of Mark, and the twenty-first of Luke if you have any doubts upon this subject.
The attempt of theologians to make it appear that Jesus only referred to the destruction of Jerusalem is most absurd. It virtually charges Jesus with the inconsistency of giving information upon one subject when his disciples desired information upon another. They asked him for signs that should precede the destruction of the world, and he distinctly affirmed, “This generation shall not pass away till all these things are fulfilled;” “There be some standing here that shall not taste death till they see the Son of man coming in his kingdom” (Matt. 16:28). The doctrine of the almost immediate end of all mundane things as they then existed is the only key to unlock what seems so absurd in the teachings of Jesus. If he believed what he taught as to the speedy end of the world, it was perfectly consistent for him to condemn the holding or accumulating of property, and to commend the most indiscriminate almsgiving, the most absolute non-resistance, with bodily mortification and mutilation, and a life of unworldliness and practical mendicancy and poverty. Jesus and his disciples taught and acted just as men would teach and act if they believed that the end of the world was at hand. His disciples so understood him.