Trust

Passages

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• From Why We Believe: Finding Meaning in Uncertain Times

  This book explores the nature of belief and maps out some approaches which I think might be helpful – not necessarily as firm conclusions, but certainly as lines of thought that have the potential to be illuminating. It explores the phenomenon of belief as integral to living. Although I shall explore some religious themes, this book is not a defence of the generic notion of ‘religion’ or of any specific religion, or even of my own beliefs. It is a reflection on what is perhaps the greatest paradox that we face as human beings: that we only seem to be able to prove shallow truths, but not the great truths of meaning, goodness and significance that lie at the heart of our existence which give order and meaning to our lives. Accepting the ambiguities of existence and respecting their complexity may not solve all our problems, but it might at least help us avoid slick and superficial answers to life’s deepest questions, and cope with the plurality of beliefs and values. Our world is strange and hard to make sense of. This does not mean we shouldn’t try to find meaning in our brief time here. Acknowledgements My thanks to Cecilia Stein, my editor at Oneworld Publications, for suggesting this book, and providing encouragement and criticism as it took shape over time. I also owe a considerable debt to academic colleagues and students at Oxford University over the last ten years, who have provided me with an intellectually hospitable yet critical environment in which to discuss the great questions that lie at the heart of this work. I am especially grateful for many conversations over the last ten years with Joanna Collicutt about the importance of belief for psychological wellbeing. A Oneworld Book First published by Oneworld Publications Ltd in 2025 This ebook edition published 2025 Copyright © Alister McGrath 2025 The moral right of Alister McGrath to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs, and Patents Act 1988 All rights reserved Copyright under Berne Convention A CIP record for this title is available from the British Library ISBN 978-0-86154-921-4 eISBN 978-0-86154-923-8 Typeset by Geethik Technologies Oneworld Publications Ltd 10 Bloomsbury Street London WC1B 3SR England Stay up to date with the latest books, special offers, and exclusive content from Oneworld with our newsletter Sign up on our website oneworld-publications.com Conclusion: Living in a World of Uncertainty Who can we trust? What can we trust? These are among the most difficult and cognitively demanding tasks that we face in everyday life. We look for individuals who are smart, honest and dependable – just as we seek beliefs that are trustworthy and enable us to flourish. My argument in this book is that belief is natural, reasonable and has the potential for good. To deny it is simply to diminish us as human beings.

• From Why We Believe: Finding Meaning in Uncertain Times

  C. S. Lewis captured this point in reflecting on the role of literature: ‘Humanity does not pass through phases as a train passes though stations: being alive, it has the privilege of always moving yet never leaving anything behind. Whatever we have been, in some sort we still are.’6 Lewis here points to the cumulative capacity of human beings to retain the wisdom of the past, while ensuring that its subsequent development and enhancement is passed on to future generations. Communities of beliefs can thus be grounded in the inherited wisdom of the past, and see this as generating strategies for dealing with the future. Communities of Belief as Places of SafetyI have deliberately spoken of ‘communities of beliefs’. There is no universal, indubitable foundation for human knowledge, no set of grounding or informing beliefs that is shared by all human beings. What we find empirically is a diversity of beliefs across history and human culture – beliefs that are not universally perceived as intellectually self-evident. This naturally leads people to gravitate towards communities that share their beliefs, partly for intellectual and cultural security (beliefs can easily lead to discrimination or social conflict), but also to enable them to flourish within this tradition of belief by exploring its implications for an appropriate way of living. Communities of belief arise due to the observable diversity of human beliefs and the intellectual and social needs that this diversity raises. In western culture, communities of belief – irrespective of the genre of those beliefs – can be seen as playing two significant roles: as places of safety and reflection. Human communities emerged primarily as ‘safe places’ to enable physical survival, allowing individuals within those communities to feed and defend themselves, and ensure their futures through reproduction. The nomadic lifestyles of hunters and gatherers gradually gave way to more settled forms of existence. Cities emerged, capable of sustaining their existence through agriculture in Mesopotamia, and along the Nile in Egypt, the Indus in Asia, and the Huang (Yellow) River in China. Within those cities, social stratification took place at several levels. At least three different forms of monarchy are known to have emerged in ancient Mesopotamia, whose authority was often associated with (and perhaps even dependent) on each city-state’s patron deity. In ancient Egypt, the king was seen as both the chosen representative and servant of the gods. To be a member of these communities was to be entangled within their founding myths, social norms and beliefs. Although these were often expressed in state or civic festivals, many of them took place at the level of households, where rituals relating to family events were celebrated.7

• From The Well of Loneliness (1928)

  And yet she clung desperately to Martin’s friendship, feeling herself to be all unworthy if she harboured so much as a moment’s doubt; indeed they both loyally clung to their friendship. He would beg her to accept his aunt’s invitations, to accompany Mary when she went to Passy: ‘Don’t you like the old thing? Mary likes her all right—why won’t you come? It’s so mean of you, Stephen. It’s not half as much fun when you’re not there.’ He would honestly think that he was speaking the truth, that the party or the luncheon or whatever it might be, was not half as much fun for him without Stephen. But Stephen always made her work an excuse: ‘My dear, I’m trying to finish a novel. I seem to have been at it for years and years; it’s growing hoary like Rip Van Winkle.’ 2 There were times when their friendship seemed well-nigh perfect, the perfect thing that they would have it to be, and on such a day of complete understanding, Stephen suddenly spoke to Martin about Morton. They two were alone together in her study, and she said: ‘There’s something I want to tell you—you must often have wondered why I left my home.’ He nodded: ‘I’ve never quite liked to ask, because I know how you loved the place, how you love it still . . .’ ‘Yes, I love it,’ she answered. Then she let every barrier go down before him, blissfully conscious of what she was doing. Not since Puddle had left her had she been able to talk without restraint of her exile. And once launched she had not the least wish to stop, but must tell him all, omitting no detail save one that honour forbade her to give—she withheld the name of Angela Crossby. ‘It’s so terribly hard on Mary,’ she finished; ‘think of it, Mary’s never seen Morton; she’s not even met Puddle in all these years! Of course Puddle can’t very well come here to stay—how can she and then go back to Morton? And yet I want her to live with my mother . . . But the whole thing seems so outrageous for Mary.’ She went on to talk to him of her father: ‘If my father had lived, I know he’d have helped me. He loved me so much, and he understood—I found out that my father knew all about me, only—’ She hesitated, and then: ‘Perhaps he loved me too much to tell me.’ Martin said nothing for quite a long time, and when he did speak it was very gravely: ‘Mary—how much does she know of all this?’ ‘As little as I could possibly tell her.

• From The Master and Margarita (1966)

  5 I do not have to see the corpse in order to say that a man has been killed, and so I report to you that the one who was called Judas of Kiriath was stabbed to death several hours ago.’ ‘Forgive me, Aphranius,’ answered Pilate, ‘I’m not properly awake yet, that’s why I said it. I sleep badly,’ the procurator grinned, ‘I keep seeing a moonbeam in my sleep. Quite funny, imagine, it’s as if I’m walking along this moonbeam . . . And so, I would like to know your thoughts on this matter. Where are you going to look for him? Sit down, head of the secret service.’ Aphranius bowed, moved the chair closer to the bed, and sat down, clanking his sword. ‘I am going to look for him not far from the oil press in the garden of Gethsemane.’ ‘So, so. And why there, precisely?’ ‘As I figure it, Hegemon, Judas was not killed in Yershalaim itself, nor anywhere very far from it, he was killed near Yershalaim.’ ‘I regard you as one of the outstanding experts in your business. I don’t know how things are in Rome, but in the colonies you have no equal . . . But, explain to me, why are you going to look for him precisely there?’ ‘I will by no means admit the notion,’ Aphranius spoke in a low voice, ‘of Judas letting himself be caught by any suspicious people within city limits. It’s impossible to put a knife into a man secretly in the street. That means he was lured to a basement somewhere. But the service has already searched for him in the Lower City and undoubtedly would have found him. He is not in the city, I can guarantee that. If he was killed far from the city, this packet of money could not have been dropped off so quickly. He was killed near the city. They managed to lure him out of the city.’ ‘I cannot conceive how that could have been done!’ ‘Yes, Procurator, that is the most difficult question in the whole affair, and I don’t even know if I will succeed in resolving it.’ ‘It is indeed mysterious! A believer, on the eve of the feast, goes out of the city for some unknown reason, leaving the Passover meal, and perishes there. Who could have lured him, and how? Could it have been done by a woman?’ the procurator asked on a sudden inspiration. Aphranius replied calmly and weightily: ‘By no means, Procurator. That possibility is utterly excluded. One must reason logically. Who was interested in Judas’s death. Some wandering dreamers, some circle in which, first of all, there weren’t any women. To marry, Procurator, one needs money. To bring a person into the world, one needs the same. But to put a knife into a man with the help of a woman, one needs very big money, and no vagabond has got it.

• From The Master and Margarita (1966)

  Tell me about it, I beg you, I beg you!’ Feeling trust in the unknown man for some reason, Ivan began, falteringly and timorously at first, then more boldly, to tell about the previous day’s story at the Patriarch’s Ponds. Yes, it was a grateful listener that Ivan Nikolaevich acquired in the person of the mysterious stealer of keys! The guest did not take Ivan for a madman, he showed great interest in what he was being told, and, as the story developed, finally became ecstatic. Time and again he interrupted Ivan with exclamations: ‘Well, well, go on, go on, I beg you! Only, in the name of all that’s holy, don’t leave anything out!’ Ivan left nothing out in any case, it was easier for him to tell it that way, and he gradually reached the moment when Pontius Pilate, in a white mantle with blood-red lining, came out to the balcony. Then the visitor put his hands together prayerfully and whispered: ‘Oh, how I guessed! How I guessed it all!’ The listener accompanied the description of Berlioz’s terrible death with an enigmatic remark, while his eyes flashed with spite: ‘I only regret that it wasn’t the critic Latunsky or the writer Mstislav Lavrovich instead of this Berlioz!,’ and he cried out frenziedly but soundlessly: ‘Go on!’ The cat handing money to the woman conductor amused the guest exceedingly, and he choked with quiet laughter watching as Ivan, excited by the success of his narration, quietly hopped on bent legs, portraying the cat holding the coin up next to his whiskers. ‘And so,’ Ivan concluded, growing sad and melancholy after telling about the events at Griboedov’s, ‘I wound up here.’ The guest sympathetically placed a hand on the poor poet’s shoulder and spoke thus: ‘Unlucky poet! But you yourself, dear heart, are to blame for it all. You oughtn’t to have behaved so casually and even impertinently with him. So you’ve paid for it. And you must still say thank you that you got off comparatively cheaply.’ ‘But who is he, finally?’ Ivan asked, shaking his fists in agitation. The guest peered at Ivan and answered with a question: ‘You’re not going to get upset? We’re all unreliable here . . . There won’t be any calling for the doctor, injections, or other fuss?’ ‘No, no!’ Ivan exclaimed. ‘Tell me, who is he?’ ‘Very well,’ the visitor replied, and he said weightily and distinctly: ‘Yesterday at the Patriarch’s Ponds you met Satan.’ Ivan did not get upset, as he had promised, but even so he was greatly astounded. ‘That can’t be! He doesn’t exist!’ ‘Good heavens! Anyone else might say that, but not you.

• From An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness (1995)

  Throughout the setting up and running of the clinic I was fortunate to have the support of the chairman of my department. He backed my being director of a medical clinic despite the fact that I was not a physician, and despite the fact that he knew I had manic-depressive illness. Rather than using my illness as a reason to curtail my clinical and teaching responsibilities, he—after being assured that I was receiving good psychiatric care and that the medical director of the clinic knew about my condition—encouraged me to use it to try and develop better treatments and to help change public attitudes. Although he never said, I assume my chairman found out about my illness after my first episode of severe psychotic mania; my ward chief certainly knew, and I imagine that the information quickly drifted upward. In any event, my chairman treated the issue strictly as a medical one. He first broached the subject by coming up to me at a meeting, putting his arm around me, and saying, “I understand you have some problems with your moods. I’m sorry. For God’s sake, just be sure to keep taking your lithium.” Now and again, after that, he would ask me how I was doing and make sure that I was still taking my medication. He was straightforward, supportive, and never suggested for a moment that I stop or curtail my clinical work. My concerns about openly discussing my illness with others, however, were enormous. My first psychotic episode occurred long before I received my license from the California Board of Medical Examiners. During the period of time between starting lithium and passing my written and oral board examinations, I observed many medical students, clinical psychology interns, and residents denied permission to continue their studies because of psychiatric illness. This happens far less often now—indeed, most graduate and medical schools encourage students who become ill to get treatment and, if at all possible, to return to their clinical work—but my early years on the faculty at UCLA were plagued by fears that my illness would be discovered, that I would be reported to one kind of hospital or licensing board or another, and that I would be required to give up my clinical practice and teaching.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  He "used testimonies from the former Epistle of John."1068 In enumerating the apostles whose living words he collected in his youth, he places John out of his regular order of precedence, along with Matthew, his fellow-Evangelist, and "Andrew, Peter, and Philip" in the same order as John 1:40–43; from which it has also been inferred that he knew the fourth Gospel. There is some reason to suppose that the disputed section on the woman taken in adultery was recorded by him in illustration of John 8:15; for, according to Eusebius, he mentioned a similar story in his lost work.1069 These facts combined, make it at least extremely probable that Papias was familiar with John.1070 The joint testimony of Polycarp and Papias represents the school of John in the very field of his later labors, and the succession was continued through Polycrates at Ephesus, through Melito at Sardis, through Claudius Apollinaris at Hieropolis, and Pothinus and Irenaeus in Southern Gaul. It is simply incredible that a spurious Gospel should have been smuggled into the churches under the name of their revered spiritual father and grandfather. Finally, the concluding verse of the appendix, John 21:24, is a still older testimony of a number of personal friends and pupils of John, perhaps the very persons who, according to ancient tradition, urged him to write the Gospel. The book probably closed with the sentence: "This is the disciple who beareth witness of these things, and wrote these things." To this the elders add their attestation in the plural: "And we know that his witness is true." A literary fiction would not have been benefited by an anonymous postscript. The words as they, stand are either a false testimony of the pseudo-John, or the true testimony of the friends of the real John who first received his book and published it before or after his death.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  The fifth notable feature was the immediate subjection of the two orders to the Apostolic see. The Franciscans and Dominicans were the first monastic bodies to vow allegiance directly to the pope. No bishop, abbot, or general chapter intervened between them and him. The two orders became his bodyguard and proved themselves to be the bulwark of the papacy. Such organized support the papacy had never had before. The legend represents Innocent III. as having seen in a vision the structure of the Lateran supported by two monks.781 These were Francis and Dominic, and the facts of history justified the invention. They helped the pope to establish his authority over the bishops.782 And wherever they went, and they were omnipresent in Europe, they made it their business to propound the principle of the supremacy of the Holy See over princes and nations and were active in strengthening this supremacy. In the struggle of the empire with the papacy, they became the persistent enemies of Frederick II. who, as early as 1229, banished the Franciscans from Naples. When Gregory IX. excommunicated Frederick in 1239, he confided to the Franciscans the duty of publishing the decree amidst the ringing of bells on every Sunday and festival day. And when, in 1245, Innocent IV. issued his decree against Frederick, its announcement to the public ear was confided to the Dominicans. Favor followed favor from the Roman court. In 1222 Honorius III. granted, first to the Dominicans and then to the Franciscans, the notable privilege of conducting services in their churches in localities where the interdict was in force.783 Francis’ will, exhorting his followers not to seek favors from the pope, was set aside. In 1227 Gregory IX. granted his order the right of general burial in their churches784 and a year later repeated the privilege conceded by Honorius785 granting them the right of celebrating mass in all their oratories and churches.786 They were exempted from episcopal authority and might hear confessions at any place. The powerful Gregory IX. from the very beginning of his pontificate, showed the orders great favor.787 Orthodoxy had no more zealous champions than the Franciscans and Dominicans. They excelled all other orders as promoters of religious persecution and hunters of heretics. In Southern France they wiped out the stain of heresy with the streams of blood which flowed from the victims of their crusading fanaticism. They were the leading instruments of the Inquisition. Torquemada was a Dominican, and so was Konrad of Marburg. As early as 1232 Gregory IX. confided the execution of the Inquisition to the Dominicans, but the order of Francis demanded and secured a share in the gruesome work. Under the lead of Duns Scotus the Franciscans became the unflagging champions of the doctrine of the immaculate conception of Mary which was pronounced a dogma in 1854, as later the Jesuits became the unflagging champions of the dogma of papal infallibility.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  Through that faith he passed judgment on the world and became an heir of the righteousness which is the result of faith. T HE Old Testament story of Noah is in Genesis 6–8. The earth was so wicked that God decided that there was no alternative but to destroy it. He told Noah his decision and instructed him to build an ark in which he and his family and the representatives of the animal world might be saved. With reverence and obedience, Noah took God at his word, and so in the destruction of the world he was preserved. As is usually the case, legend has added numerous details to this story. The writer to the Hebrews must have known these legends, and they must have helped to add vividness to the picture in his mind. One story tells how Noah was in doubt as to the shape he was to give the ark. God revealed to him that it was to be modelled on a bird’s belly and was to be constructed of teak wood. Noah planted a teak tree, and in twenty years it grew to such a size that out of it he was able to build the entire ark. Another story tells that, after he had been forewarned by God, Noah made a bell of plane wood, about five feet high, and that he sounded it every day – morning, noon and evening. When he was asked why, he answered: ‘To warn you that God will send a deluge to destroy you all.’ Another story tells that, when Noah was building the ark, the people laughed at him and thought that he was mad. But he said to them: ‘Though you mock me now, the time will come when I shall do the same to you; for you will learn to your cost who it is that punishes the wicked in this world and reserves for them a further punishment in the world to come.’ Even more than Abel and Enoch, Noah stands out as a man of faith. (1) Noah took God at his word . He believed the message which God sent him. God’s message might have appeared to be foolishness at the time; but Noah believed it and staked everything on it. Obviously, if he was going to accept that word of God, he had to lay aside his normal activities and concentrate on doing what that message commanded. Noah’s life was one continued and concentrated preparation for what God had said would come. The choice comes to each one of us either to listen to or to disregard the message of God. We may live as if that message is of no importance or as if it is the most important thing in the world. To put it another way: Noah was the man who heeded the warning of God; and, because he heeded, he was saved from disaster. God’s warning comes to us in many ways.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  It is a Christian duty always to bear our absent loved ones to the throne of God’s grace and daily to remember there all who bear the responsibility of leadership and authority. When Stanley Baldwin became Prime Minister of Great Britain, his friends gathered round to congratulate him. He said: ‘It is not your congratulations I need, it is your prayers.’ We must give our respect and our obedience to those set in authority over us in the Church when they are present with us, and when they are absent we must remember them in our prayers. A PRAYER, A GREETING AND A BLESSING Hebrews 13:20–4 May the God of peace, who brought up from among the dead the great shepherd of the sheep with the blood of the eternal covenant, it is our Lord Jesus I mean, equip you with every good thing that you may do his will, and may he create in you through Jesus Christ that which is well-pleasing in his sight. To him be glory forever and ever. Amen. Brothers, I appeal to you to bear with this appeal of mine, for indeed it is but a short letter that I have sent to you. I would have you know that our brother Timothy is at liberty again. If he comes soon, I will see you along with him. Greet all your leaders and all God’s dedicated people. The folk from Italy send you their greetings. Grace be with you all. Amen. THE great prayer of the first two verses of this passage draws a perfect picture of God and of Jesus. (1) God is the God of peace. Even in the most disturbing and distressing situation, he can bring peace to our souls. In any fellowship where there is division, it is because people have forgotten God, and only remembering his presence can bring back the lost peace. When our minds and hearts are distracted and we are torn in two between the two sides of our own nature, it is only by giving our lives into the control of God that we can know peace. It is only the God of peace who can make us at peace with ourselves, at peace with each other and at peace with him. (2) God is the God of life. It was God who brought Jesus again from the dead. His love and power are the only things that can bring us peace in life and triumph in death. It was to obey the will of God that Jesus died; and that same will brought him again from the dead. For those who obey the will of God, there is no such thing as final disaster; even death itself is conquered. (3) God is the God who both shows us his will and equips us to do it. He never gives us a task without also giving us the power to accomplish it. When God sends us out, he sends us equipped with everything we need.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  It is sufficient at the moment to say that a covenant is, in essence, an agreement between two people that, if one faithfully performs certain undertakings, the other will respond in a certain way. There was an ancient covenant between Israel and God that, if the Israelites faithfully obeyed God’s law, the way of access to his friendship would always be open to them. We see the nation entering into that covenant in Exodus 24:1–8. We see Moses taking the book of the law and reading it to the people; and we see the people responding with the words: ‘All that the Lord has spoken we will do, and we will be obedient’ (Exodus 24:7). The old agreement was based on obedience to the law; and the agreement could be kept open only while the priests continued to make sacrifice every time the law was broken. Jesus is the surety of a new and a better covenant, a new kind of relationship between men and women and God. The difference is this: the old covenant was based on law and justice and obedience; the new covenant is based on love and on the perfect sacrifice of Jesus Christ. The old covenant was based on human achievement; the new covenant is based on God’s love. What does the writer to the Hebrews mean by saying that Jesus is the surety (egguos) of this new covenant? An egguos is one who gives security. It is used, for instance, of a person who guarantees someone else’s overdraft at a bank; that person is surety that the money will be paid. It is used for someone who puts up bail for someone charged with an offence; that person guarantees that the one accused will appear at the trial. The egguos is one who guarantees that some undertaking will be honoured. So, what the writer to the Hebrews means is this. Someone might say: ‘How do you know that the old covenant is no longer operative? How do you know that access to God now depends not on our achievement of obedience but simply on the welcoming love of God?’ The answer is: ‘Jesus Christ guarantees that it is so. He is the surety who promises that God’s love will be forthcoming, if only we take him at his word.’ To put it in the simplest possible way, we must believe that, when we look at Jesus in all his love, we are seeing what God is like. The writer to the Hebrews introduces a second proof of the superiority of the priesthood of Jesus. There was no permanency about the old priesthood. Those who were priests died and had to be replaced; but the priesthood of Jesus is forever. What really matters in this passage are the overtones and implications of the almost untranslatable words the writer uses. He says that the priesthood of Jesus is one that will never pass away (aparabatos).

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Abbot,1074 "received it because they could not help it. They would not have admitted the authority of a book which could be reconciled with their doctrines only by the most forced interpretation, if they could have destroyed its authority by denying its genuineness. Its genuineness could then be easily ascertained. Ephesus was one of the principal cities of the Eastern world, the centre of extensive commerce, the metropolis of Asia Minor. Hundreds, if not thousands, of people were living who had known the apostle John. The question whether he, the beloved disciple, had committed to writing his recollections of his Master’s life and teaching, was one of the greatest interest. The fact of the reception of the fourth Gospel as his work at so early a date, by parties so violently opposed to each other, proves that the evidence of its genuineness was decisive. This argument is further confirmed by the use of the Gospel by the opposing parties in the later Montanistic controversy, and in the disputes about the time of celebrating Easter." 3. Heathen testimony. Celsus, in his book against Christianity, which was written about A.D. 178 (according to Keim, who reconstructed it from the fragments preserved in the refutation of Origen), derives his matter for attack from the four Gospels, though he does not name their authors, and he refers to several details which are peculiar to John, as, among others, the blood which flowed from the body of Jesus at his crucifixion (John 19:34), and the fact that Christ "after his death arose and showed the marks of his punishment, and how his hands had been pierced" (20:25, 27).1075 The radical assertion of Baur that no distinct trace of the fourth Gospel can be found before the last quarter of the second century has utterly broken down, and his own best pupils have been forced to make one concession after another as the successive discoveries of the many Gnostic quotations in the Philosophumena, the last book of the pseudo-Clementine Homilies, the Syrian Commentary on Tatian’s Diatessaron, revealed the stubborn fact of the use and abuse of the Gospel before the middle and up to the very beginning of the second century, that is, to a time when it was simply impossible to mistake a pseudo-apostolic fiction for a genuine production of the patriarch of the apostolic age. II. Internal Evidence. This is even still stronger, and leaves at last no alternative but truth or fraud. 1. To begin with the style of the fourth Gospel, we have already seen that it is altogether unique and without a parallel in post-apostolic literature, betraying a Hebrew of the Hebrews, impregnated with the genius of the Old Testament, in mode of thought and expression, in imagery and symbolism, in the symmetrical structure of sentences, in the simplicity and circumstantiality of narration; yet familiar with pure Greek, from long residence among Greeks. This is just what we should expect from John at Ephesus.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  The old covenant was based on human achievement; the new covenant is based on God’s love. What does the writer to the Hebrews mean by saying that Jesus is the surety ( egguos ) of this new covenant? An egguos is one who gives security. It is used, for instance, of a person who guarantees someone else’s overdraft at a bank; that person is surety that the money will be paid. It is used for someone who puts up bail for someone charged with an offence; that person guarantees that the one accused will appear at the trial. The egguos is one who guarantees that some undertaking will be honoured. So, what the writer to the Hebrews means is this. Someone might say: ‘How do you know that the old covenant is no longer operative? How do you know that access to God now depends not on our achievement of obedience but simply on the welcoming love of God?’ The answer is: ‘Jesus Christ guarantees that it is so. He is the surety who promises that God’s love will be forthcoming, if only we take him at his word.’ To put it in the simplest possible way, we must believe that, when we look at Jesus in all his love, we are seeing what God is like. The writer to the Hebrews introduces a second proof of the superiority of the priesthood of Jesus. There was no permanency about the old priesthood. Those who were priests died and had to be replaced; but the priesthood of Jesus is forever. What really matters in this passage are the overtones and implications of the almost untranslatable words the writer uses. He says that the priesthood of Jesus is one that will never pass away ( aparabatos ). Aparabatos is a legal word. It means inviolable . A judge lays down that his decision must remain aparabatos , unalterable . It means non-transferable . It describes something which belongs to one person and cannot ever be transferred to anyone else. Galen, the second-century Greek medical writer, uses it to describe absolute scientific law which can never be violated, the principles on which the very universe is built and holds together. So, the writer to the Hebrews says that the priesthood of Jesus is something which can never be taken from him, something that no one else can ever possess, something that is as lasting as the laws which hold the universe together. Jesus is and will always remain the only way to God. The writer to the Hebrews uses another wonderful word about Jesus and says of him that he remains forever ( paramenein ). That verb has two characteristic senses. First, it means to remain in office .

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  The voice of the whole Catholic church, so far as it is heard, on the subject at all, is in favor of the authorship of John. There is not a shadow of proof to the contrary opinion except one, and that is purely negative and inconclusive. Baur to the very last laid the greatest stress on the entangled paschal controversy of the second century as a proof that John could not have written the fourth Gospel because he was quoted as an authority for the celebration of the Lord’s Supper on the 14th of Nisan; while the fourth Gospel, in flat contradiction to the Synoptists, puts the crucifixion on that day (instead of the 15th), and represents Christ as the true paschal lamb slain at the very time when the typical Jewish passover was slain. But, in the first place, some of the ablest scholars know how to reconcile John with the Synoptic date of the crucifixion on the 15th of Nisan; and, secondly, there is no evidence at all that the apostle John celebrated Easter with the Quartodecimans on the 14th of Nisan in commemoration of the day of the Lord’s Supper. The controversy was between conforming the celebration of the Christian Passover to the day of the month, that is to Jewish chronology, or to the day of the week on which Christ died. The former would have made Easter, more conveniently, a fixed festival like the Jewish Passover, the latter or Roman practice made it a movable feast, and this practice triumphed at the Council of Nicaea.1071 2. Heretical testimonies. They all the more important in view of their dissent from Catholic doctrine. It is remarkable that the heretics seem to have used and commented on the fourth Gospel even before the Catholic writers. The Clementine Homilies, besides several allusions, very clearly quote from the story of the man born blind, John 9:2, 3.1072 The Gnostics of the second century, especially the Valentinians and Basilidians, made abundant use of the fourth Gospel, which alternately offended them by its historical realism, and attracted them by its idealism and mysticism. Heracleon, a pupil of Valentinus, wrote a commentary on it, of which Origen has preserved large extracts; Valentinus himself (according to Tertullian) tried either to explain it away, or he put his own meaning into it. Basilides, who flourished about A.D. 125, quoted from the Gospel of John such passages as the "true light, which enlighteneth every man was coming into the world" (John 1:9), and, my hour is not yet come "(2:4).1073 These heretical testimonies are almost decisive by themselves. The Gnostics would rather have rejected the fourth Gospel altogether, as Marcion actually did, from doctrinal objection. They certainly would not have received it from the Catholic church, as little as the church would have received it from the Gnostics. The concurrent reception of the Gospel by both at so early a date is conclusive evidence of its genuineness. "The Gnostics of that date," says Dr.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Evangelists may have been engaged for several years in preparing their works until they assumed their present shape. The composition of a life of Christ now may well employ many years of the profoundest study. The Hebrew Matthew was probably composed first; then Mark; the Greek Matthew and Luke cannot be far apart. If the Acts, which suddenly break off with Paul’s imprisonment in Rome (61–63), were written before the death of the apostle, the third Gospel, which is referred to as "the first treatise" (Acts 1:1), must have been composed before A.D. 65 or 64, perhaps, in Caesarea, where Luke had the best opportunity to gather his material during Paul’s imprisonment between 58 and 60; but it was probably not published till a few years afterwards. Whether the later Synoptists knew and used the earlier will be discussed in the next section. John, according to the universal testimony of antiquity, which is confirmed by internal evidence, wrote his Gospel last, after the fall of Jerusalem and after the final separation of the Christians from the Jews. He evidently presupposes the Synoptic Gospels (although he never refers to them), and omits the eschatological and many other discourses and miracles, even the institution of the sacraments, because they were already sufficiently known throughout the church. But in this case too it is impossible to fix the year of composition. John carried his Gospel in his heart and memory for many years and gradually reduced it to writing in his old age, between A.D. 80 and 100; for he lived to the close of the first century and, perhaps, saw the dawn of the second. Credibility. The Gospels make upon every unsophisticated reader the impression of absolute honesty. They tell the story without rhetorical embellishment, without any exclamation of surprise or admiration, without note and comment. They frankly record the weaknesses and failings of the disciples, including themselves, the rebukes which their Master administered to them for their carnal misunderstandings and want of faith, their cowardice and desertion in the most trying hour, their utter despondency after the crucifixion, the ambitious request of John and James, the denial of Peter, the treason of Judas. They dwell even with circumstantial minuteness upon the great sin of the leader of the Twelve, especially the Gospel of Mark, who derived his details no doubt from Peter’s own lips. They conceal nothing, they apologize for nothing, they exaggerate nothing. Their authors are utterly unconcerned about their own fame, and withhold their own name; their sole object is to tell the story of Jesus, which carries its own irresistible force and charm to the heart of every truth-loving reader. The very discrepancies in minor details increase confidence and exclude the suspicion of collusion; for it is a generally acknowledged principle in legal evidence that circumstantial variation in the testimony of witnesses confirms their substantial agreement. There is no historical work of ancient times which carries on its very face such a seal of truthfulness as these Gospels.

• From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

  Inspiration, however, is concerned only with moral and religious truths, and the communication of what is necessary to salvation. Incidental matters of geography, history, archeology, and of mere personal interest, can be regarded as directed by inspiration only so far as they really affect religious truth. The revelation of the body of Christian truth essential to salvation coincides in extent with the received canon of the New Testament. There is indeed constant growth and development in the Christian church, which progresses outwardly and inwardly in proportion to the degree of its vitality and zeal, but it is a progress of apprehension and appropriation by man, not of communication or revelation by God. We may speak of a secondary inspiration of extraordinary men whom God raises from time to time, but their writings must be measured by the only infallible standard, the teaching of Christ and his apostles. Every true advance in Christian knowledge and life is conditioned by a deeper descent into the mind and spirit of Christ, who declared the whole counsel of God and the way of salvation, first in person, and then through his apostles. The New Testament is thus but one book, the teaching of one mind, the mind of Christ. He gave to his disciples the words of life which the Father gave him, and inspired them with the spirit of truth to reveal his glory to them. Herein consists the unity and harmony of the twenty-seven writings which constitute the New Testament, for all emergencies and for perpetual use, until the written and printed word shall be superseded by the reappearance of the personal Word, and the beatific vision of saints in light. § 68. Different Types of Apostolic Teaching. With all this harmony, the Christian doctrine appears in the New Testament in different forms according to the peculiar character, education, and sphere of the several sacred writers. The truth of the gospel, in itself infinite, can adapt itself to every class, to every temperament, every order of talent, and every habit of thought. Like the light of the sun, it breaks into various colors according to the nature of the bodies on which it falls; like the jewel, it emits a new radiance at every turn. Irenaeus speaks of a fourfold "Gospel."749 In like manner we may distinguish a fourfold "Apostle,"750 or four corresponding types of apostolic doctrine.751 The Epistle of James corresponds to the Gospel of Matthew; the Epistles of Peter and his addresses in the Acts to that of Mark; the Epistles of Paul to the Gospel of Luke and his Acts; and the Epistles of John to the Gospel of the same apostle. This division, however, both as regards the Gospels and the Epistles, is subordinate to a broader difference between Jewish and Gentile Christianity, which runs through the entire history of the apostolic period and affects even the doctrine, the polity, the worship, and the practical life of the church.

• From I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings (1969)

  “I'm taking you to Dentist Baker in Texarkana.” I was glad after all that that I had bathed and put on Mum and Cashmere Bouquet talcum powder. It was a wonderful surprise. My toothache had quieted to solemn pain, Momma had obliterated the evil white man, and we were going on a trip to Texarkana, just the two of us. On the Greyhound she took an inside seat in the back, and I sat beside her. I was so proud of being her granddaughter and sure that some of her magic must have come down to me. She asked if I was scared. I only shook my head and leaned over on her cool brown upper arm. There was no chance that a dentist, especially a Negro dentist, would dare hurt me then. Not with Momma there. The trip was uneventful, except that she put her arm around me, which was very unusual for Momma to do. The dentist showed me the medicine and the needle before he deadened my gums, but if he hadn't I wouldn't have worried. Momma stood right behind him. Her arms were folded and she checked on everything he did. The teeth were extracted and she bought me an ice cream cone from the side window of a drug counter. The trip back to Stamps was quiet, except that I had to spit into a very small empty snuff can which she had gotten for me and it was difficult with the bus humping and jerking on our country roads. At home, I was given a warm salt solution, and when I washed out my mouth I showed Bailey the empty holes, where the clotted blood sat like filling in a pie crust. He said I was quite brave, and that was my cue to reveal our confrontation with the peckerwood dentist and Momma's incredible powers. I had to admit that I didn't hear the conversation, but what else could she have said than what I said she said? What else done? He agreed with my analysis in a lukewarm way and I happily (after all, I'd been sick) flounced into the Store. Momma was preparing our evening meal and Uncle Willie leaned on the door sill. She gave her version. “Dentist Lincoln got right uppity. Said he'd rather put his hand in a dog's mouth. And when I reminded him of the favor, he brushed it off like a piece of lint. Well, I sent Sister downstairs and went inside, I hadn't never been in his office before, but I found the door to where he takes out teeth, and him and the nurse was in there thick as thieves. I just stood there till he caught sight of me.” Crash bang the pots on the stove. “He jumped just like he was sitting on a pin.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  Finally, this passage not only tells us of the faith of Moses; it also tells us of the source of that faith. Verse 27 tells us that he was able to face all things as one who sees the God who is invisible. The outstanding characteristic of Moses was the close intimacy of his relationship with God. In Exodus 33:9–11, we read of how he went into the tabernacle: ‘Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend.’ In Numbers 12:7–8, we read of God’s verdict on him when there were those who were ready to rebel against him: ‘with him I speak face to face’. To put it simply: the secret of his faith was that Moses knew God personally. To every task, he came out from God’s presence. It is told that, before a great battle, Napoleon would stand in his tent alone; he would send for his commanders to come to him, one by one; when they came in, he would say no word but would look them in the eye and shake them by the hand; and they would go out prepared to die for the general whom they loved. That is like Moses and God. Moses had the faith he had because he knew God in the way he did. When we come to it straight from God’s presence, no task can ever defeat us. Our failure and our fear are so often due to the fact that we try to do things alone. The secret of victorious living is to face God before we face the world. THE FAITH WHICH DEFIED THE FACTSHebrews 11:30–1 It was by faith that the walls of Jericho fell down after they had been encircled for seven days. It was by faith that Rahab, the harlot, did not perish with the disobedient because she had welcomed the scouts in peace. THE writer to the Hebrews has been citing as examples of faith the great figures of the time before Israel entered into the promised land. Now he takes two figures from the period of struggle when the children of Israel were winning a place for themselves within Palestine. (1) The first is the story of the fall of Jericho. That strange old story is told in Joshua 6:1–20. Jericho was a strong fortified city with all gates barricaded. To take it seemed impossible. It was God’s commandment that, once a day for six days, and in silence, the people should march round it, led by seven priests marching in front of the ark and bearing trumpets of rams’ horn. On the seventh day, the priests were to blow upon the trumpets, after the city had been encircled seven times, and the people were to shout with all their might, ‘and the wall of the city will fall down flat’. As the old story tells it, so it happened.

• From The Letter to the Hebrews (The New Daily Study Bible) (2002)

  The supreme example of such an agreement is a will. The conditions of a will are not made on equal terms. They are entirely one-sided, the terms being set by the person who made the will; and the other party cannot alter them but can only accept or refuse the inheritance offered. That is why our relationship to God is described as a diathēkē, a covenant for the terms of which only one person is responsible. That relationship is offered to us solely on the initiative and the grace of God. As Philo said: ‘It is fitting for God to give and for a wise man to receive.’ When we use the word covenant , we must always remember that it does not mean that we have made a bargain with God on equal terms. It always means that the whole initiative is with God; the terms are his, and we cannot alter them in the slightest. The ancient covenant, so well known to the Jews, was the one made with the people after the giving of the law. God graciously approached the people of Israel. He offered them a unique relationship to himself; but that relationship was entirely dependent on the keeping of the law. We see the Israelites accepting that condition in Exodus 24:1–8. The argument of the writer to the Hebrews is that that old covenant is done away with and that Jesus has brought a new relationship with God. In this passage, we can distinguish certain marks of the new covenant which Jesus brought. (1) The writer begins by pointing out that the idea of a new covenant is not something revolutionary. It is already there in Jeremiah 31:31–4, which he quotes in full. Further, the very fact that Scripture speaks of the new covenant shows that the old was not completely satisfactory. If it had been satisfactory, a new covenant would never have needed to be mentioned. Scripture looked to a new covenant and therefore itself indicated that the old covenant was not perfect. (2) This covenant will not only be new; it will be different in quality and in kind . In Greek, there are two words for new . Neos describes a thing as being new in respect of time. It might be an exact copy of its predecessors; but, if it has been made after the others, it is neos . Kainos means not only new in relation to time, but also new in relation to quality. A thing which is simply a reproduction of what went before may be neos – but it is not kainos . This covenant which Jesus introduces is kainos , not merely neos ; it is different in quality from the old covenant. The writer to the Hebrews uses two words to describe the old covenant. He says that it is gēraskōn , which means not only ageing but ageing into decay .

• From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

  26. If ye then be not able to do that thing which is least, why take ye thought for the rest? CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA. As before in raising our minds to spiritual boldness, He assured us by the example of the birds, which are counted of little worth, saying, Ye are of more value than many sparrows; so now also from the instance of birds, He conveys to us a firm and undoubting trust, saying, Consider the ravens, for they neither sow nor reap, which neither have storehouse nor barn, and God feedeth them; how much more are ye better than fowls? BEDE. That is, ye are more precious, because a rational animal like man is of a higher order in the nature of things than irrational things, as the birds are. AMBROSE.: But it is a great thing to follow up this example in faith. For to the birds of the air who have no labour of tilling, no produce from the fruitfulness of crops, Divine Providence grants an unfailing sustenance. It is true then that the cause of our poverty seems to be covetousness. For they have for this reason a toilless and abundant use of food, because they think not of claiming to themselves by any special right fruits given for common food. We have lost what things were common by claiming them as our own. For neither is any thing a man’s own, where nothing is perpetual, nor is supply certain when the end is uncertain. CYRIL OF ALEXANDRIA. Now whereas our Lord might have taken an example from the men who have cared least about earthly things, such as Elias, Moses, and John, and the like, He made mention of the birds, following the Old Testament, which sends us to the bee and the ant, and others of the same kind, in whom the Creator has implanted certain natural dispositions. THEOPHYLACT. Now the reason that he omits mention of the other birds, and speaks only of the ravens, is, that the young of the ravens are by an especial providence fed by God. For the ravens produce indeed, but do not feed, but neglect their young, to whom in a marvellous manner from the air their food comes, brought as it were by the wind, which they receive having their mouths open, and so are nourished. Perhaps also such things were spoken by synecdoche, i. e. the whole signified by a part. Hence in Matthew our Lord refers to the birds of the air, (Matt. 6:26.) but here more particularly to the ravens, as being more greedy and ravenous than others.