CHAPTER XVIII.

INSTITUTIONS OF JESUS.

That which proves, moreover, that Jesus was never entirely absorbed in his apocalyptic ideas is that, at the very time he was most preoccupied with them, he laid with rare foresight the basis of a church destined to endure. It is scarcely possible to doubt that he himself only chose from among his disciples those who were pre-eminently called the “apostles,” or the “twelve,” since on the day after his death we find them forming a distinct body, and filling up by election the vacancies that had been produced in their midst. They were the two sons of Jonas; the two sons of Zebedee; James, son of Alphæus; Philip; Nathaniel bar-Tolmai; Thomas; Matthew; Simon Zelotes; Thaddeus or Lebbæus; and Judas of Kerioth. It is probable that the idea of the twelve tribes of Israel had had something to do with the choice of this number. The “twelve,” at all events, formed a group of privileged disciples, 168among whom Peter maintained a fraternal priority, and to them Jesus confided the propagation of his work. There was nothing, however, which suggested a regularly organised sacerdotal school. The lists of the “twelve,” which have been preserved, present many uncertainties and contradictions; two or three of those who figure in them have remained completely obscure. Two, at least, Peter and Philip, were married and had children.

Jesus evidently confided secrets to the twelve, which he forbade them to communicate to the world. It seems sometimes as if his intentions had been to surround his person with some mystery, to postpone the most important testimony till after his death, and to reveal himself clearly only to his disciples, confiding to them the care of demonstrating him afterwards to the world. “What I tell you in darkness, that speak ye in light; and what ye hear in the ear, that preach ye upon the housetops.” He was thus spared the necessity of too precise declarations, and created a kind of medium between the public and himself. What is certain is that there were teachings reserved to the apostles, and that he explained many parables to them, the meaning of which was ambiguous to the multitude. An enigmatical form and a degree of oddness in connecting ideas were customary in the teachings of the doctors, as may be seen in the sentences of the Pirké Aboth. Jesus explained to his disciples whatever was peculiar in his apothegms or in his apologues, and showed them his meaning stripped of the wealth of illustration which sometimes obscured it. Many of these explanations appear to have been carefully preserved.

During the lifetime of Jesus the apostles preached, but without ever departing far from him. Their preaching, moreover, was confined to the announcement of the speedy coming of the kingdom of God. 169They went from town to town, receiving hospitality, or rather taking it themselves, according to custom. The guest in the East has much authority; he is superior to the master of the house; the latter places the greatest confidence in him. This fireside preaching is well suited to the propagation of new doctrines. The hidden treasure is communicated, and payment is thus made for what is received; politeness and good feeling lend their aid; the household is touched and converted. Remove Oriental hospitality, and it would be impossible to explain the propagation of Christianity. Jesus, who adhered strongly to the good old customs, encouraged his disciples to make no scruple of profiting by this ancient public right, probably abolished already in the great towns where there were hostelries. “The labourer,” said he, “is worthy of his hire!” Once installed in the house of any one they were to remain there, eating and drinking what was offered them as long as their mission lasted.

Jesus desired that, by imitating his example, the messengers of the glad tidings should render their preaching agreeable by kindly and polished manners. He directed that, on entering a house, they should give the host the salaam—wish him happiness. Some hesitated; the salaam being then, as now, in the East, a sign of religious communion, which is not risked with persons of a doubtful faith. “Fear nothing,” said Jesus; “if no one in the house is worthy of your salute, it will return unto you.” Sometimes, in fact, the apostles of the kingdom of God were badly received, and came to complain to Jesus, who generally sought to conciliate them. Some of them, persuaded of the omnipotence of their master, were hurt at this forbearance. The sons of Zebedee wanted him to call down fire from heaven upon the inhospitable towns. Jesus answered these outbursts with a fine irony, and stopped them 170by saying, “ The Son of man is not come to destroy men's lives, but to save them.”

He sought in every way to establish as a principle that his apostles were as himself. It was believed that he had communicated his marvellous virtues to them. They cast out demons, prophesied, and formed a school of renowned exorcists, although certain cases were beyond their power. They also made cures, either by the imposition of hands or by the unction of oil, one of the fundamental processes of Oriental medicine. Lastly, like the Psylli, they could handle serpents and drink with impunity deadly potions. The further we get from Jesus this theurgy becomes more and more offensive. But there is no doubt that it was a common practice in the primitive Church, and that it held a chief place in the estimation of the world around. Charlatans, as generally happens, exploited this movement of popular credulity. Even in the lifetime of Jesus many, without being his disciples, cast out demons in his name. The true disciples were much hurt at this, and sought to prevent them. Jesus, who saw in this a homage to his renown, did not manifest much severity towards them. It must be observed, moreover, that these supernatural gifts had, if I may say so, become a trade. Carrying the logic of absurdity to the extreme, certain men cast out demons by Beelzebub, the prince of demons. They imagined that this sovereign of the infernal regions must have entire authority over his subordinates, and that in acting through him they were certain to make the intruding spirit depart. Some even sought to buy from the disciples of Jesus the secret of the miraculous powers which had been conferred upon them.

The germ of a church began from this time to appear. This fertile idea of the power of men in association (ecclesia) seemed indeed an idea of Jesus. Full of the purely idealistic doctrine that it 171is the union of love which brings souls together, he declared that whenever men assembled in his name, he would be in their midst. He confided to the Church the right to bind and to unbind (that is to say, to render certain things lawful or unlawful), to remit sins, to reprimand, to warn with authority, and to pray with the certainty of being heard. It is possible that many of these sayings may have been attributed to the master, so as to give a foundation to the collective authority by which subsequently it was sought to replace that of Jesus. At all events, it was only after his death that particular churches were seen to be constituted, and even this first constitution was made purely and simply on the model of the synagogues. Many personages who had loved Jesus much, and had founded great hopes upon him, such as Joseph of Arimathea, Lazarus, Mary Magdalen, and Nicodemus, did not, it seems, enter these churches, but clung to the tender or respectful memory which they had preserved of him.

Moreover, there is no trace, in the teaching of Jesus, of an applied morality or of a canonical law, ever so slightly defined. Once only, respecting marriage, he spoke with decision, and forbade divorce. Neither was there any theology or creed. There were hardly any opinions respecting the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, from which, afterwards, were drawn the Trinity and the Incarnation, but they still remained in a state of indeterminate imagery. The later books of the Jewish canon recognised already in the Holy Spirit a sort of divine hypostasis, sometimes identified with Wisdom or the Word. Jesus insisted upon this point, and pretended to give to his disciples a baptism by fire and by the Spirit, as much preferable to that of John. For Jesus, this Holy Spirit, was not distinct from the inspiration emanating from God the 172Father in a continuous manner. People then speculated. It was pretended that Jesus had promised his disciples to send them after his death, to replace him, a Spirit who should teach them all things and bear witness to the truths he himself had promulgated. One day the apostles believed they had received the baptism of this spirit in the form of a great wind and tongues of fire. In order to designate this Spirit, people made use of the word Paraklit, which the Syro-Chaldaic had borrowed from the Greek (παρακλητος), and which appears to have had in this case the meaning of “advocate,” “counsellor,” and sometimes that of “interpreter of celestial truths,” and of “teacher charged to reveal to men the hitherto hidden mysteries.” It is very doubtful whether Jesus made use of this word. It was in this case an application of the process which the Jewish and Christian theologies would follow during centuries, and which was to produce a whole series of divine assessors, the Metathronos, the συναδελφος or Syndelphon, and all the personifications of the Cabala. Still, in Judaism, these creations were to remain free and individual speculations, whilst in Christianity, commencing with the fourth century, they were to form the very essence of orthodoxy and of the universal dogma.

It is needless to remark how remote from the thought of Jesus was the idea of a religious book, containing a code and articles of faith. Not only did he not write, but it was contrary to the spirit of the nascent sect to produce sacred books. They believed themselves on the eve of the great final catastrophe. The Messiah came to put the seal upon the Law and the Prophets, not to promulgate new texts. Further, with the exception of the Apocalypse, which was in one sense the only revealed book of the primitive Christianity, the writings of 173the apostolic age were works arising from circumstances, making no pretentions to furnish a completely dogmatic whole. The Gospels had at first an entirely personal character, and much less authority than tradition.

Had not the sect, however, some sacrament, some rite, some rallying point? It had the one which all tradition ascribes to Jesus. One of the favourite notions of the master was that he was the new bread, a bread very superior to manna, and on which mankind was to live. This notion, the germ of the Eucharist, took in his mouth at times singularly concrete forms. On one occasion especially, in the synagogue of Capernaum, he took a bold step, which cost him several of his disciples. “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Moses gave you not that bread from heaven; but my Father giveth you the true bread from heaven.” And he added, “I am the bread of life: he that cometh to me shall never hunger, and he that believeth on me shall never thirst.” These words excited deep murmurings. The Jews then murmured at him because he said, “I am the bread which came down from heaven. And they said, is not this Jesus the son of Joseph, whose father and mother we know? how is it then that he saith, I came down from heaven?” But Jesus, insisting with still more force, said, “I am that bread of life; your fathers did eat manna in the wilderness and are dead. This is the bread which cometh down from heaven, that a man may eat thereof and not die. I am the living bread which came down from heaven; if any man eat of this bread, he shall live for ever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.” The ill-feeling was now at its height: “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” Jesus, going still further, said, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, 174and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. For my flesh is meat indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood dwelleth in me, and I in him. As the living Father has sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me. This is that bread which came down from heaven: not as your fathers did eat manna, and are dead: he that eateth of this bread shall live for ever.” Such paradoxical obstinacy offended several of his disciples, who ceased to follow him. Jesus did not retract; he only added: “It is the spirit that quickeneth; the flesh profiteth nothing. The words that I speak unto you, they are spirit, and they are life.” The twelve remained faithful, despite this odd preaching. It gave to Cephas, in particular, an opportunity of showing his absolute devotion and of proclaiming once more, “Thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God.”

It is probable that henceforward in the common repasts of the sect, there was established some custom which from the discourse was badly received by the men of Capernaum. But the apostolic traditions on this subject are very divergent and probably intentionally incomplete. The synoptical gospels, whose account is confirmed by St. Paul, suppose that a unique sacramental act served as basis to the mysterious rite, and refer it to “the last supper.” The fourth gospel, which has accurately preserved to us the incident at the synagogue of Capernaum, does not speak of such an act, although it describes the last supper at great length. Elsewhere we see Jesus recognised in the breaking of bread, as if this act had been to those who associated with him the most characteristic of his person. When he was dead, the 175form under which he appeared to the pious memory of his disciples was that of chairman of a mysterious banquet, taking the bread, blessing it, breaking and giving it to those present. It is probable that this was one of his habits, and that at such times he was particularly amiable and tender. One material circumstance, the presence of fish upon the table (a striking indication, which proves that the rite was instituted on the shore of Lake Tiberias), was itself almost sacramental, and became a necessary part of the conceptions of the sacred feast.

Their repasts had become the sweetest moments of the infant community. At these times they all assembled; the master spoke to each one, and kept up a charming and lively conversation. Jesus loved these seasons, and was pleased to see his spiritual family thus grouped around him. The participation of the same bread was considered as a kind of communion, a reciprocal bond. The master used, in this respect, extremely strong terms, which were afterwards taken in a very literal sense. Jesus was, at once, very idealistic in his conceptions and very materialistic in his expression of them. Wishing to express the thought that the believer lives only by him, that altogether (body, blood, and soul) he was the life of the truly faithful, he said to his disciples, “I am your nourishment,”—a phrase which, turned in figurative style, became, “My flesh is your bread, my blood your drink.” Then the modes of speech employed by Jesus, always strongly subjective, carried him yet further. At table, pointing to the food, he said, “I am here,” holding the bread; “this is my body; holding up the wine, “This is my blood,”—all modes of speech which were equivalent to, “I am your nourishment.”

This mysterious rite obtained in the lifetime of 176Jesus great importance. It was probably established some time before the last journey to Jerusalem, and it was the result of a general doctrine much more than a determinate act. After the death of Jesus, it became the great symbol of Christian communion, and it is to the most solemn moment of the life of the Saviour that its establishment is referred. It was wished to be shown in the consecration of bread and wine, a farewell memorial which Jesus, at the moment of quitting life, had left to his disciples. They recognised Jesus himself in this sacrament. The wholly spiritual idea of the presence of souls, which was one of the most familiar to the master, which made him say, for instance, that he was personally with his disciples when they were assembled in his name, rendered this easily admissible. Jesus, we have already said, never had a very clear idea of that which constitutes individuality. In the degree of exaltation to which he had attained, the ideal surpassed everything to such an extent that the body counted for nothing. We are one when we love one another, when we live in dependence on each other; it was thus that he and his disciples were one. His disciples adopted the same language. Those who for years had lived with him had seen him constantly take the bread and the cup “between his holy and venerable hands,” and thus offer himself to them. It was he whom they ate and drank; he became the true passover, the former one having been abrogated by his blood. It is impossible to translate into our essentially hard and fast tongue, in which a rigorous distinction between the material and the metaphorical must always be observed, habits of style whose essential character is to attribute to metaphor, or rather to the idea it represents, a complete reality.