It is only in the last words of the verse that we have an important variation. “But he kept silence, as feeling no pain.” We have already referred to this as one of the recognised Docetic passages of the fragment, although there is no necessity to read it in this sense. Mr. Murray has pointed out a passage in Origen in which that writer “gives them an innocent” (that is, not a Docetic) “interpretation.”
Et in his omnibus unigenita virtus nocita non est, sicut nec passa est aliquid, facta pro nobis maledictum, cum naturaliter benedictio esset; sed cum benedictio esset, consumpsit et solvit et dissipavit omnem maledictionem humanam. Orig. in Mat. 125.[86]
Although there is no exact parallel to this in our Gospels, it is worth a moment's notice that the silence of Jesus during the trial is mentioned as remarkable and as exciting wonder. We have not in our fragment, unfortunately, the earlier part of the trial, and cannot, therefore, see whether the words used have any reference to previous representations. In Matt. xxvii. 12 f., it is said: “And when he was accused by the chief priests and elders, he answered nothing. Then saith [pg 061] Pilate unto him, Hearest thou not how many things they witness against thee? And he gave him no answer, not even to one word: insomuch that the governor marvelled greatly.” An almost identical account is given in Mark. In Luke it is to the questioning of Herod that Jesus is silent (xxiii. 9): “And he [Herod] questioned him in many words; but he answered him nothing.” In the fourth Gospel not only is nothing said of the silence of Jesus, but he is represented as answering freely—and in the tone of the discourses which characterise that Gospel—the questions of Pilate. Now, in the Synoptics, we have a silence described, which causes the governor to marvel greatly, that is not, however, when we go into detail, very marked in them, and is excluded by the fourth Gospel. Can a silence have been referred to, in the original tradition, which was connected with the trial, instead of the cross, because it began to receive a Docetic application, but which we have, in its earlier form, in Peter?
In our fragment, the narrative continues: 11. “And as they set up the cross they wrote thereon: ‘This is the King of Israel.’ ” We have here a continuation of the indefinite “they,” which it becomes at every step more impossible to identify otherwise than with the soldiers. It is a most curious circumstance, frequently pointed out, that no two of the Gospels agree even in so plain a matter as should be the inscription on the cross, and that the Gospel of Peter differs from them all. Matthew gives it (xxvii. 37): “This is Jesus, the King of the Jews;” Mark (xv. 26): “The King of the Jews;” Luke (xxiii. 38): “This is the King of the Jews,” and John (xix. 19): “Jesus of Nazareth, the King of the Jews.” The author of the fourth Gospel adds the statement that this title “was written in Hebrew, in [pg 062] Latin, and in Greek,” and further gives a conversation between the “chief priests of the Jews” and Pilate, in which they complain of this superscription, and wish it to be put “that he said, I am King of the Jews,” to which Pilate answered briefly, “What I have written, I have written.” With so many forms to select from, is it reasonable to suppose that Peter would have invented another superscription, if these four Gospels had actually been before him?[87]
The author of the fragment continues: 12. “And they laid the clothes before him and distributed them and cast lots (λαχμὸν ἔβαλον) for them.” In Matthew (xxvii. 35) it is said: “And when they had crucified him, they parted his garments among them, casting lots” (βάλλοντες κλῆρον); in Mark (xv. 24): “And they crucify him, and part his garments among them, casting lots (βάλλοντες κλῆρον) upon them, what each should take.” In Luke there is a similar statement (xxiii. 34): “And parting his garments among them, they cast lots” (ἔβαλον κλῆρον). In the fourth Gospel, as usual, we have further details (xix. 23 f.): “The soldiers therefore, when they had crucified Jesus, took his garments and made four parts, to every soldier a part; and also the coat: now the coat was without seam, woven from the top throughout. They said therefore one to another, Let us not rend it, but cast lots (λάχωμεν) for it, whose it shall be: that the scripture might be fulfilled, which saith, They parted my garments among them, and upon my vesture did they cast lots” (ἔβαλον κλῆρον). In discussing the connection of Justin with the Gospel of Peter, we have already partly dealt with this passage, and now confront it with all the four [pg 063] Gospels. It is obvious that the language of the three Synoptics is distinct from that of Peter, who uses the unusual word λαχμός, not found in any of the Gospels. The fourth Gospel has the common verb λαγχάνω, whilst the quotation from the Psalm (xxii. 18), from which the whole episode emanates, uses the expression common to the three Synoptics, ἔβαλον κλῆρον. There is no reason for supposing that Peter makes use of our Gospels here, and in the absence of other evidence, the λαχμός is decisive proof of his independence.
The author of our fragment, after the crucifixion, has none of the mocking speeches of the four Gospels, and he ignores the episode of the penitent thief, as it is told in the third Synoptic, but he relates, instead, how one of the malefactors rebuked the mockers: 13. “But one of these malefactors reproved them, saying: We have suffered this for the evil which we wrought, but this man who has become the saviour of men, what wrong hath he done you? 14. And they were angry with him, and they commanded that his legs should not be broken, in order that he might die in torment.”
It will be remembered that the episode of the penitent thief is given in Luke only, and that the other Gospels do not mention any utterance of the two malefactors said to have been crucified with Jesus. Luke's narrative reads (xxiii. 39 f.): “And one of the malefactors which were hanged railed on him, saying: Art not thou the Christ? Save thyself and us. But the other answered, and rebuking him said, Dost thou not even fear God, seeing thou art in the same condemnation? And we indeed justly: for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this man hath done nothing amiss. And he said, Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom. And he said unto him, Verily, [pg 064] I say unto thee, To-day shalt thou be with me in Paradise.” That all the other Gospels should have excluded an incident like this, supposing it to have really occurred, is very extraordinary, and the only conclusion to which we can come is either that it did not occur, or that they were ignorant of it. Peter has evidently got an earlier form of the story, without those much later touches with which the third Synoptist has embellished it. The malefactor rebukes the Jews and not his fellow, and if he display a piety which is not very natural under the circumstances, he is not in this more remarkable than his counterpart in the third Synoptic. That the author was not acquainted with the form in Luke, and is quite uninfluenced by it, seems to us manifest.
This is rendered all the more apparent by the continuation in Peter, in which, instead of any reply from Jesus, or any promise of Paradise, there is connected with the rebuke of the malefactor on the cross a view of the crurifragium which is quite foreign to the canonical Gospels. When the malefactor had spoken, instead of their being mollified, the fragment declares: “And they were angry with him, and they commanded that his legs should not be broken, in order that he might die in torment.” Now, here, there is a point which demands examination. To whom does this sentence refer? to Jesus or the malefactor? It is at first sight, and apart from consideration of the style of the writer, a reference to the latter, but on closer examination it seems to us more probable that the writer intended it to apply to Jesus. In any case, it is a point in which so remarkable a version of the story is concerned that it cannot but be considered as very singular that most apologetic critics have passed it over without any notice whatever, and apparently treated the order not to break the legs as applying to [pg 065] the malefactor and not to Jesus.[88] In the first edition of his article on the fragment, Harnack took the view that more probably the malefactor was indicated here, but in his second edition he withdraws this, and adopts the conclusion that the reference of αὐτῷ to Jesus “appears more acceptable, both on account of John xix. 32 f., and also on account of the context.”[89] Zahn considers the whole episode in Peter as a caricature of the Gospel tradition, through the author's hatred of the Jews, and refers only indirectly to the version of the crurifragium as drawn by the caricaturist from the “Motive” of the fourth Evangelist, but does not further go into the matter than to say, with mysterious reticence: “Whoever is of another opinion should keep it to himself”![90] Hilgenfeld, who considers the whole passage as quite independent of our Gospels, regrets Harnack's change of view, and applies the αὐτῷ to the malefactor;[91] but many able critics, with equal decision, understand it as a reference to Jesus,[92] and Harnack himself, of course, sees that, even adopting his later view, there is a clear contradiction in the account in Peter to the representation of the fourth Gospel. To independent criticism, the result is a matter of indifference, and we shall merely state the reasons which seem to favour the view that the passage was intended to apply to Jesus, and then present the consequence if it be referred to the malefactor.
Throughout the whole of the fragment, the sustained purpose of the author is to present Jesus in the strongest [pg 066] light, and subordinate everything to the representation of his sufferings and resurrection. At the part we are considering, the narrative is of the closest and most condensed character: the crucifixion between the two malefactors; the silence as feeling no pain; the superscription on the cross, and the parting of the garments, are all told without wasting a word. The reproach of the malefactor, apparently addressed to those who are parting the garments, is more intended to increase our sympathy for Jesus than to excite it for the speaker, and it is certainly not the writer's purpose to divert our attention from the sufferings of Jesus by presenting those of the generous malefactor. Rather it is to show that the more the high character and mission of Jesus are set forth, the more bitter becomes the animosity and hatred of the Jews; so that, to the remonstrance of the malefactor, they reply by increasing the sufferings of Jesus. In short, the sense of the passage seems to be “And they, being angered at what was said, commanded that the legs of Jesus should not be broken, that he might die in torment.” However, let us take the view that the command was given that the malefactor's legs should not be broken, that he might die in torment. It clearly follows that, if he was to be made to suffer more by not having his legs broken, the legs of the other two must on the contrary have been broken. The command not to break his legs necessarily implies that otherwise the legs of all would have been so broken. There is really no escape from this inference. Now the crurifragium is here represented as an act of mercy and to hasten death, but in the immediate context we are told that they were troubled and anxious lest the sun should have set whilst Jesus still lived. No anxiety of this kind is felt lest the malefactors should still be alive, and why? Because if an exception to [pg 067] breaking the legs had been made in one case, and that exception had been Jesus, the malefactors would be supposed to be already dead. If, on the contrary, the legs of Jesus had been broken, they would not have feared his being alive, but rather the malefactor whose legs had not been broken. Jesus having been left to linger in torment is still alive, and the potion of vinegar and gall is given to him to produce death, and not to the malefactor. The whole context, therefore, shows that no means such as the crurifragium had been used with Jesus to hasten death, and that the potion was at last given for the purpose. If, on the other hand, the legs of Jesus were actually broken, and not those of the malefactor, a most complete contradiction of the account in the fourth Gospel is given, and of the Scripture which is said in it to have been fulfilled.
Let us now see how the account in Peter compares with that in the fourth Gospel, on the hypothesis that the writer intended to represent that, in order to lengthen his sufferings, the legs of Jesus were not broken. It would follow that the crurifragium was applied to the two malefactors, and that Jesus was left to a lingering death by the cruel animosity of his executioners. It will, of course, be remembered that the fourth Gospel is the only one which recounts the crurifragium. In this narrative it is not represented as an act of mercy to shorten the sufferings of the crucified. It is said (xix. 31 f.): “The Jews therefore, because it was the Preparation, that the bodies should not remain on the cross upon the Sabbath (for the day of that Sabbath was a high day), asked of Pilate that their legs might be broken, and that they might be taken away. The soldiers therefore came, and brake the legs of the first, and of the other which was crucified with him; but when they came to Jesus, and saw that he was dead already, [pg 068] they brake not his legs ... that the Scripture might be fulfilled, A bone of him shall not be broken.” The object of the author in relating this is obviously dogmatic, and to show the fulfilment of Scripture, but the way in which he brings the matter about is awkward, to say the least of it, and not so natural as that adopted by Peter. The soldiers brake the legs “of the first,”—and by this description they imply that they begin at one end—and proceed to the second, who would be Jesus; but not so, for having broken the legs “of the first, and of the other,” they come to Jesus, whom they must have passed over. Is this passing over of Jesus in the first instance a slight indication of a tradition similar to that which has been reproduced in Peter? However this may be, it is quite clear that, while the fourth Gospel deals with the episode purely from a dogmatic point of view, this is completely absent from Peter, who even leaves it in doubt, and as a problem for critics, whether the legs of Jesus were broken or not, and evidently does not give a thought to the Johannine representation of Jesus as the Paschal lamb. Whichever way the passage in Peter is construed, the entire independence of the writer from the influence of the fourth Gospel seems to be certain.