Chapter 10: Calvary

It is, fortunately, not needful to dwell long on the disproval of Mr. Frazer’s theory that his facts ‘seem to shed fresh light on some of the causes which contributed to the remarkably rapid diffusion of Christianity in Asia Minor ... The new faith had elements in it which appealed powerfully to the Asiatic mind ... We have seen that the conception of the dying and risen god was no new one in these regions ... A man whom the fond imagination of his worshippers invested with the attributes of a god gave his life for the life of the world ... A chain of causes which, because we cannot follow them, might in the loose language of daily life be called an accidents determined that the part of the dying god in this annual play should be thrust on Jesus of Nazareth... ‘ His death as the Haman of the annual mystery play of the dying god’ impressed upon what had been hitherto mainly an ethical mission the character of a divine revelation culminating in the passion and death of the incarnate Son of a heavenly Father. In this form the story of the life and death of Jesus exerted an influence which it could never have had if the great teacher had died the death of a vulgar malefactor. It shed round the Cross on Calvary a halo of divinity, ‘ &C.[1]

But all this halo could only be shed if the victim was recognised by the world as dying in the character of a god, and as rising again in the person of Barabbas, the Mordecai of the year. We know on the best historical evidence that there was no such recognition. ‘To the Greeks foolishness, and to the Jews a stumbling block, ‘ was the Cross, as St. Paul assures us. Moreover, we know that ribaldry, not reverence, marked the multitude at the Crucifixion. By Mr. Frazer’s theory Barabbas represented the re-arisen god, ‘The Son of the Father.’ Was Barabbas revered? No; ‘some pretended to salute his mock majesty, and others belaboured the donkey on which he rode.’[2] Therefore, by Mr. Frazer’s own explicit statement, the divine facts about Barabbas were not recognised. Yet he was the counterpart of the sacred Victim.

Mr. Frazer’s theory demands, I think, the general recognition of the godhead of the yearly victim, who gave Christ’s mission ‘the influence which it could never have had if the great teacher had died the death of a vulgar malefactor.’[3]

Yet Mr. Frazer himself assures us that the idea of the divinity of the victim may have been forgotten; that his ‘sacrifice’ might seem ‘the execution of a criminal.’ I cite the passage: ‘The divine character of the animal or man is forgotten, and he comes to be regarded merely as an ordinary victim. This is especially the case when it is a divine man who is killed. For when a nation becomes civilised, if it does not drop human sacrifices altogether, it at least selects as victims only such wretches as would be put to death at any rate. Thus, as in the Sacæan festival at Babylon, the killing of a god may come to be confounded with the execution of a criminal.’[4] Yet within eighty pages Mr. Frazer attributes the ‘halo of divinity’ to the happy accident which enabled the victim to die as a recognised representative of a dying god.[5]

Mr. Frazer puts forth his hypothesis ‘with great diffidence.’[6] He thinks that he may ‘have perhaps been led by the interest and importance of the subject somewhat deeper than the evidence warrants.’[7]

That is certain. We have shown that the evidence, in our opinion, warrants none of the hypotheses; no, not one.

It is not proved that magic is older than religion.

It is disproved that general belief (as distinguished from local legend) in any age regards gods as mortal.

There is no evidence, or none is given, to show that a man has ever been sacrificed for the benefit of a god whom he incarnates.