GALILEE, JUDAEA, SAMARIA.

The preaching of the kingdom was a creative act; the word of Jesus instituted His reign. His simple and modest means stood in curious contrast to His extraordinary and sublime ends. His mission was to create a new society in the heart of the old, a new that was to reform the old by reforming its members. The man was allowed to live where he had lived before, within the old state and obedient to its laws; but he was to become a new man, the seed of a new society. The citizens were not to be changed through the state, but the state through the citizens. Ancient polities and institutions were not directly assailed and overturned, but the renewal of the spirits that create law and order was to make all things new. And this stupendous work was to be done by simple unadorned speech, the telling of a simple history by simple men. And Jesus believed that His end was attainable, and could be attained by His means. In this faith He became a Preacher, the Preacher of the kingdom; and His Word was creative in the very degree that it was tender and quiet. The Christ and the Baptist were, as Preachers, the antithesis of each other. John had roused the nation, had made the banks of the Jordan as populous as a city, had forced the proud and priestly as well as the simple and sinful to seek his baptism and confess their sins. But Jesus avoided crowds and commotion, stole as it were into obscurity, lived simply among simple people in a province remote from the city and temple of His race, only now and then, as at a Feast, emerging on the greater stage they supplied. Yet this quiet and unobtrusive work was soon perceived by friends and foes alike to be more radical and penetrative than John's, more destructive of the old and creative of the new. Action that at first seemed so obscure as to be wasted was proved by the result to be work too deep to be audible, too eternal to be visible, at the foundations of the new society, the City of God.

It seems curious, inconsistent, indeed, with the Messianic mission and claims, that Jesus should choose Galilee as the scene of His first and creative ministry. Jerusalem appeared its natural field. It was the city of David, the centre of the nation, the symbol of its unity, the home of its schools, the seat of its worship, the abode of its priesthood. Galilee was a despised province, " the circle of the Gentiles: " out of it arose no prophet, from it no Messiah could come. To belong to it, to live in it, was to allow as it were a priori disproof of His claims. There, too, appreciative spirits were few, an audience of the cultured impossible. To seek Galilee was like courting defeat, inviting the contempt of Judaea, surrounding Himself with men too dull-witted to understand His words or quicken and gladden His soul with the sympathy possible to men of trained and nimble minds. But the Wisdom that justifies her children justified the choice of Jesus, proved that it was, as He was, of God.

Judaea and Jerusalem had been the worst of all fields for the early ministry of Jesus. It had made conflict precede and accompany creation. There were serene depths in His own spirit which the conflict could not have disturbed, but it would have troubled and bewildered the simpler spirits He wished to form. Old societies have an immense power of repression, are easily moved to a jealousy that as easily glides into revenge. It had been ill had His career ended ere it had well begun, had He gone to seek His final sorrow and suffering instead of leaving them to seek Him. Amid the peace His early obscurity afforded He could meeten and mature His Spirit for the Passion which was to be at once supreme sacrifice and supreme glory. There, too, He could best form His society out of men who combined the simplicity of childhood with the strength of manhood. The men who incarnate the genius of an ancient polity or state are brittle rather than malleable, tend so to break as to wound the hand that attempts to fashion them into finer forms and for nobler uses. The men who can be so made as to become makers are men who unite the open sense and innocent wonder of the child with the high faith and resolute will of the man. Official or officious teachers are seldom made of teachable stuff. The soul long fed on subtleties becomes too absorbed in the distinctions to care for the truths and realities of life. The priests and scribes of Jerusalem were too thoroughly possessed by the old to be readily penetrated by the new. The simple Galileans were not mismade, only unmade, men, waiting but the coming of One who could breathe into them the breath of life to rise up quick and quickening spirits. Then, too, the influence of Jesus increased in intensity with the narrowing of the circle within which He moved. The more extensive the stage the smaller His power. He did not need to make many, but to make thoroughly. The many only touched had done nothing, but the few transformed could reform the world. His presence, where understood, was power. His person and word stood in an exegetical relation to each other, were mutually illustrative and explanatory. But to be so they needed to be seen in their ideal relations, living together in happy and beautiful unity, undisturbed by the presence of jealous and disputatious Jews. And Galilee allowed the ideal relations to be realized. While He waited for the Passion that came towards Him with awful inevitable step, He made the meaning of Himself, His truth, and His mission penetrate and possess His simple-minded disciples. The obscure but great ministry of those days not only created the new society, but has been the regulative force in its history, as fruitful of the principles that have commanded as the Passion of the motives and emotions that have inspired the church. Its influence lives in our Synoptic Gospels. Its memory was so potent as to eclipse the ministry in Judaea, and a fourth and later Evangelist was needed to tell the story of those visits to Jerusalem that the authors of the earliest Christian Memorabilia had forgotten in their vivid recollection of the life lived and words spoken in Galilee.

His earliest ministry in Galilee may be said to have been private and tentative, a preliminary or prophetic ministry. It grew out of the Baptist's. John's preaching had sifted his hearers, had determined and revealed their spiritual affinities. The men of Jerusalem had soon withdrawn from him. What would not be absorbed into Judaism they could not tolerate, and so, while they began by accepting the baptism, they ended by rejecting the Baptist. He had a devil, as had every one too generous to be a Jew. But in the men from Galilee he had awakened a new spirit, a grand consciousness of human evil and Divine good. The spirit he had awakened he could not satisfy. It wanted more than he could give the baptism of the Holy Ghost and of fire. And so an elect circle waited near John, held there by the Divine hunger of their spirits. And they soon found Him for whom they waited, Jesus of Nazareth, the Son of Joseph. There is no finer proof possible of the power and spirit that lived in the Baptist than the quality of the men he quickened, but could not satisfy. Peter and John, Andrew, Philip, and Nathanael, were not ordinary persons, were men of the high creative order. They were the atoms that, with all their spiritual affinities awakened but unsatisfied, only waited the coming of the Word to crystallize into the New Society. With them Jesus returned into Galilee, and " manifested forth His glory "as they could bear it. It was a period of home ministry; on His part a making known, on theirs a coming to know. The Fourth Evangelist allows us a glimpse into this period, shows us Jesus by His presence at a marriage making the heart of man glad and the home of man holy, creating the spirit at once of belief and obedience.¹ Cana was the scene of His first miracle, but it was a miracle of the home, not of the synagogue or the market-place. His ministry was only beginning, had not yet begun.

Christianity, like Christ, was educated in Galilee, but was born in Judaea. The new faith, as a new faith supersessive of the old, could have as its appropriate birthplace only Jerusalem. The Christ could proclaim His kinghood only in "the city of the great King." John was the one Evangelist who saw the meaning of the event, and recorded it. When " the Jews' passover was at hand, Jesus went up to Jerusalem."² There as a boy He had woke into consciousness of His mission; there as a man He was to inaugurate His reign. Feast and city, time and place, were alike significant. As the Greeks at Olympia, the Jews at Jerusalem realized their unity, lived as a people unified by a common faith and a common descent and history. Then, as now, Jews were everywhere merchants and philosophers in Alexandria, scholars and teachers in Athens, ministers of virtue and vice, diplomatists, traders, servants, interpreters at Rome, colonists in Gaul and Spain, settlers in the towns of Syria, in the isles of Greece, in the valley of the Euphrates, beside the once hated streams of Babel. But the Jew had then what he has not now national being, a city that incorporated and symbolized his religious, if not his political ideal. And so,, though he forsook he did not forget Zion, looked with longing eyes to the city where God dwelt, which the deeds of his fathers, the songs of his faith, the words of his prophets, had so consecrated and glorified. And thus the scattered sons of Israel loved to come from far, and while they stood within Jerusalem, become for one blissful day oblivious of their mercenary and down-trodden present, by becoming conscious of their glorious past, and hopeful of a splendid future. No passover came without bringing troops of pilgrims yearning to see

The Holy City lift high her towers,
And higher yet the glorious Temple rear
Her pile, far off appearing like a mount
Of alabaster, topped with golden spires.

The Temple was not simply the expression of the nation's faith, but the symbol of its spirit and epitome of its history. The one sanctuary had helped to create the one faith, had contributed in an almost equal degree to the spread of Hebraism and the growth of Judaism. It served the former well at first, but the latter most and last. The Temple may indeed be regarded as, while the creation of prophetic monotheism, the creator of Judaic sacerdotalism. If it did not form the priesthood, it greatly promoted the formation of a priestly caste; tended to decrease the spiritual by increasing the sensuous elements in Mosaism; to turn men's minds from thinking that God was best served by righteousness to thinking that He was best served by sacrifices and ceremonies. The Temple helped at once to fulfil and to defeat the prophetic ideal: to fulfil it by realizing the faith in one God, to defeat it by localizing Jehovah. The Deity of the Hebrew prophets was the one and universal God, but the God of the Jewish Temple was only a magnified and sublimed tribal deity. If there was only one God He must be the God of all men; but a God who could be worshipped only in one place and by one people remained their God. And this difference involved another: the universal was an ethical conception, the particular a sensuous and sacerdotal. To the prophets the supreme matter was God, and the obedience He demanded; but to the priesthood, worship conducted in proper form by proper persons. The conflict of these opposite and contradictory tendencies lasted through several centuries, and the Jewish Temple represented the victory of the second, a universal religion localized by a tribal and inflexible sacerdotalism.

We can understand, then, how the Temple might be to a mind like Christ's at once a pleasure and an offence. The symbolical significance might please, but its actual state would pain. It was a symbol of the highest spiritual realities, God's search after man, man's search after God; of the heroic struggles that had created the first monotheism, the mother of all the rest. But as a place it was the scene of a worship that had extinguished religion. The zeal for ritual was everywhere; men could not get to God for priests and sacrifices, were so beset by formal laws and ordinances that ethical obedience was impossible. Yet the most exacting ceremonialism is always most accommodating exacts scrupulous observance of its rites, but supplies facile access to the means. The worshipper had no need to neglect any form, or omit any sacrifice; the instruments and articles of worship stood waiting to be purchased. If he wished to sacrifice, he had a choice of beasts sheep, oxen, doves could select according to his purpose or his means. If he came with the stamped money of Caesar, he could exchange it for the unstamped sacred shekel, that nothing with any sign or image might be presented to God. He entered the Temple of his fathers through a market, where he bought the means of rightly approaching and worshipping their God.

Now, if we would understand Christ's mind and emotions in presence of this scene of praise through purchase, we must do it through His saying, "Make not My Father's house a house of exchange."³ The phrase "My Father's house" expresses His ideal of the place and its purpose: it is where parent and child may meet each other, where the filial may commune with the paternal spirit, not alone, but in the home, amid its loved and trusted kin. The phrase " a house of exchange " expresses His idea of the actual scene, what made it so direct and painful a contradiction to His ideal. Honest merchandize He did not condemn. What He condemned was not simply the intrusion of merchandize into His " Father's house," but its attempt to regulate and express the relations between Father and child. It first depraved, and then destroyed, the filial spirit. It was fatal to the pure and delicate affection, the soft and gentle love, that made the home of God the best home of man. It was the corporate expression of the cardinal sin of Judaism, the reduction of man's worship of God to a service by acts formal and artificial, through instruments and articles sensuous, external, purchasable.

The cleansing of the Temple is an event that has been provocative of much criticism and discussion. Paulus, true to his not very rational naturalism, reduced it to what was little else than a popular tumult led by Jesus. Strauss, in his first Leben, explained it as a myth suggested by Malachi iii. 1-3. Bruno Bauer made merry over it as the evidently fictitious story of a free fight, in which, had it really occurred, Jesus would have been certain to find the dealers in sheep and doves and the money - changers more than a match for Him. But in truth the event is intrinsically one of the most probable. It had a sufficient reason, and was in no way inconsistent with the character of Jesus. Severity is but a form of gentleness is gentleness become strenuous against the evil and injurious through its love of the good and the Injured. A character incapable of indignation is destitute of righteousness, without the will to give adequate expression to its moral judgments. Here there was almost the worst possible perversion of the holiest things, an offence the conscience would condemn in the proportion to its purity. The emotions awakened in the mind of Christ by the conflict of the ideal and the real could not have been more strongly, and therefore more fitly, expressed. Then, too, the act was finally intelligible to a Hebrew, an act of splendid loyalty to his God. The man who was zealous for God could not allow His house or His name to be profaned. The prophet but asserted his inalienable Tight when he commanded worship to be reformed, the Temple to be purified. Christ is here but resurgent Hebraism declaring in brave and expressive acts the doom of apostate Judaism.

But there is another side to the matter, present to the mind alike of Christ and His Evangelist. The Jews ask, " What sign showest thou unto us, seeing that thou doest these things? " They do not absolutely deny His right to do what He had done, they only demand His warrant, by what authority. Now the remarkable thing is the answer of Christ, " Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up." This answer explains His act, shows it to have been to His own mind, as later to John's, symbolical. The Temple was the type of the ancient worship, embodied and represented Judaism. To destroy it was to abolish the system it represented. As it was the type of the old faith Christ was the type of the new. He was the true ideal temple in Him God was manifested, through Him man found God. He was the tabernacle of God with men, the personalized Divine presence.⁴ Here, then, were the false and the true, the sensuous and the spiritual, the depraved type and the perfect reality, facing each other; and Jesus says, " Destroy this temple the whole ancient system as here incorporated and symbolized and in three days I will create a new and permanent, form for the eternal truth that had here a transitory type. The destruction is to be your act, not mine. I am not come to destroy the law and the prophets, but to fulfil them. My death may seem to you an expedient necessary to save the nation, but what you mean to save the nation will really destroy it. In three days I will make it evident that the Temple is superseded, that Judaism is. doomed, the reign of the letter over and the reign of the spirit come. The holy city, the New Jerusalem, shall then come down from God, and its. Temple shall be the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb."

The saying explains the prominence John gives to the incident. It was to his mind the inauguration of the new economy, the explicit claim on Christ's part to be the: true temple of God, the heart of the new religion. The: impression made on him by the scene and the saying seems to live in his awed and frequent references to the: temple or tabernacle of God with men. And the claim appears to have impressed other minds almost as much, as his. Two significant things he mentions; first, that many believed on Christ; and next, that He did not commit Himself to them. The belief was sensuous rather than spiritual, due more to miracles seen than to truths understood. And in such faith Jesus did not confide. The men who gave it He did not receive into His own inner circle. Those who stood there must believe in. Himself rather than His works. John happily illustrates  both points by a person. Nicodemus was the type of a man who believed because of the miracles, and who was, however well-meaning, anything but a man to be trusted. He is indeed exceptional the one Pharisee and ruler who honestly seeks to be instructed by Christ. But while he was discontented with the past, he cannot quite break with it. The prejudices of a life are hard to conquer, but the coarse yet subtle persecutions of society are still harder to bear. Nicodemus was stronger than the first, but weaker than the second; and Jesus speaks to him as one weak while strong, who believed the miracles but did not trust their Worker. The discourse was, while particular, universal, while addressed to the man, addressed to him as a representative of a class, in a sense of the race.

It is one of the notes and peculiarities of the Fourth Gospel that the reflections of the historian often so blend with the discourses of Christ that it is hardly possible to tell where the latter end and the former begin. It is so eminently here. The discourse of Christ ends most probably with Verse 15, and Verses 16-21 express the explicative thoughts of the Evangelist. Yet his mind has become so completely possessed with the Spirit of his Master, that his words are as the words of Christ. The commentary so finely harmonizes with the discourse as to make it into a more perfect whole, a discourse not simply to Nicodemus, but to the Christian ages. It may be necessary to exhibit the two sections in their relations to each other, and to the historical and ideal elements in the person of Christ.

The discourse proper falls into two parts: the first (Verses 3-8) explains the condition of entrance into the kingdom, and this condition at once explains the nature of the kingdom and is explained by it. The kingdom is a kingdom of the Spirit, and the birth into it is a spiritual birth, an effect whose cause is the ubiquitous, silently ever-operating Divine Spirit, whose historical symbol or expression is "the water" that purifies and renews. The second part (Verses 10-15) explains Christ's relation to the kingdom and to the men who seek it. If men enter it, it must be by faith in Himself which is but the intellectual and personal side of the change that had been before described on its spiritual and social but it must be absolute faith in Him as one who testifies of what He knows, as a Speaker who knows heaven as earth, and has descended that He might speak with the authority of one who had a celestial as well as a terrestrial presence. And He who requires such absolute faith can do so only as the creative spiritual centre of the world, the spiritual pole, as it were, of humanity, drawing all eyes and hearts towards Him, that He may illuminate all with His light and gladden with His love. The discourse thus speaks to the deepest needs of Nicodemus. He is but a seeker after the things of the senses. What he needs is a change of the spirit, entrance as a trustful child into a new society which he is too sensuous to perceive. And to enter, it is not miracles he must regard, it is their Worker. The Christian society is constituted by faith in Christ.

The commentary, again, falls, like the discourse, into two parts, the first being an explicit statement of truths implied or indicated in the discourse; the second, an exposition of the principles that govern the conflict of light and darkness, love and hate, which the gospel is written to pourtray. The former part (Verses 16-18) explains the ideal cause and design of Christ's historical appearance; the cause being God's love to the world, the design, most agreeable to the cause, " that the world through Him might be saved." The latter part (Verses 19-21) explains the real or historical results of His appearance; on the one side, men so loving the darkness as to hate and refuse the light; on the other, men so loving the light as to seek it that they may live, and be seen to live, in God. The two sections thus blend into a fine unity, constitute, when combined, a discourse which progresses from the idea of the kingdom and birth into it through the King to the causes and results of His historical appearance, the unequal though long protracted conflict of Divine love and human hate.

In this discourse and commentary it has been contended that there are ideas strange to the Synoptics and their Christ, peculiar to the Fourth Evangelist, late in origin, and unhistorical in character. The most foreign and offensive of these ideas is the second birth; but it is only a more radical and expressive formula for a most characteristic thought of the Synoptic Christ, entering into the kingdom by becoming a little child.⁵ The Apostolical Epistles, too, prove that the idea had so penetrated early Christian thought⁶ as to be explicable only as a creation of its common Creator. The idea expressed in the phrase " born of the Spirit " stands in fine harmony with John's prophecy, " He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost," as with the later notion of baptism in its name.⁷ The commentary, too, is as distinctive of John as the discourse of Jesus. " Only begotten " occurs in his characteristic sense.⁸  Love and God, light and God, are associated as he likes to associate them⁹ the divinest qualities in God used to explain at once his antagonism to the ignorance and the evil of man, and his strenuous service of man's highest good. Jerusalem was not to be the scene of Christ's ministry. It was tried and rejected. Yet with a noble love and loyalty to the queenly city He lingered in her neighbourhood, speaking His truth, baptizing¹⁰ men who came to confess their sins and be instructed. But He could not remain in Judaea; Pharisaic jealousy was too strong, threatened premature conflict. So He " departed again into Galilee," and He " must needs go through Samaria."¹¹ The necessity was not geographical, but ethical, was rooted in His nature and mission, was not caused by His place. The story of the Samaritan journey is symbolical. John tells it as an allegory, while a history. The two were to him, where Christ's action was concerned, identical the real ever representing an ideal. Strauss regarded it as a myth suggested by the beautiful tale of the meeting of Jacob and Rachel at the well. The woman was the representative of an unclean people; the five husbands represented their five idols, and the sixth their illegitimate worship of Jehovah. Hengstenberg and Keim are here in curious agreement with Strauss, with these differences, that the former of course rejects the mythical theory, while the latter substitutes religions for idols. But the narrative is too finely and minutely historical to be an allegory in their sense, and their interpretation fails to explain its most significant touches. The cardinal point of their allegory is but a secondary incident in the story, and obtained by the sacrifice of its essential symbolism. For there is here a real enough symbolism, looking out from the double senses in the " water," "the well," "the mountain," "the harvest." What it is we may best discover through the feelings that must have been in the mind of Christ. When He retired from Judaea two thoughts must have possessed Him the evil of the hateful formalism of the Jews, and the failure of His ministry in Jerusalem. Judaism had localized and concealed God; though a universal God, He could be found only at Jerusalem; though a righteous God, He could be worshipped only by sensuous forms and ceremonies. And these ideas of God stood in so radical antithesis to His that they had caused the failure of His mission, made the Jews not only disinclined to hear Him, but unable to understand the splendid significance of His words. But now this narrative supplies the contrast that at once illustrates and defines His truth and His mission. God is proved to be universal and ethical, capable of being worshipped anywhere, only to be worshipped in spirit and in truth. And the mission which establishes this truth is just in its spring-time, but it is a spring which not only had the promise of harvest, but is equal to it. Though Judaea is behind, the world is before; if the one is a proud and exclusive city, the other is a field ripe to the sickle.

It is strange that Christ should often speak His most remarkable words to the least remarkable persons. Here is a woman who for one splendid moment emerges from the unknown, stands as in a blaze of living light, and vanishes into the unknown again. But while she stands she is immortalized, the moment becomes an Eternal Now, in which Christ and she face each other for ever, He giving and she receiving truths the world can never allow to die. For the woman is a type, a particular that expresses an universal. She represents heathenism, the world waiting for the truths Christ was bringing. And what He gives to her He gives to the race; what she receives she receives for mankind. In that woman man lived, and in her became conscious of the truth " God is a Spirit, and they that worship Him must worship in spirit and in truth."

The influence of Judaea lives in words like these. The "in spirit" is an assertion of the universal presence of God everywhere in man, never in a temple or city, to be worshipped by mind, never as in a place. The "in truth" expresses the essential quality or element of worship, stands, as it were, opposed to "in form" or " in ritual. " The worship that is everywhere possible must be always ethical; what is independent of place is dependent on spirit and truth.

But while the " in spirit " is in contrast with the " in Jerusalem " of Judaism, it is in essential agreement with " God is a Spirit." Where God is conceived as a Spirit, worship must be spiritual; where worship is sensuous, God is sensuously conceived. Worship is but the mutual speech of the Divine and the human; God is as active in it as man. And so it is only where He is rightly conceived that man can rightly worship. He could as little worship a God that was only cold eternity or silent speechless space as it could know or speak to him. And so Christ verifies and personalizes " spirit " by the term Father, seeks by creating a new consciousness of God to create a new attitude of the spirit towards Him. As His phrase " in truth " is in contrast with " in ceremonies" or " in sensuous forms," so it is in radical agreement with the idea expressed by " Father." Falsity in worship may be either in the object or in the subject: if the first, it is idolatry; if the second, it is hypocrisy. These, as commonly used, are opposites: heathenism is better than hypocrisy; honest faith in a false religion is better than false worship in a true. But they may really be so related as to be opposite sides of one thing. Man cannot offer false worship to a true God. Where the worship is false the God must be the same; the one falsifies the other. God is conceived and addressed, not as He is, but as the worshipper imagines Him to be. Hence Christ's aim was to create true worship by creating true knowledge of God. The Father deserved honour, the Son owed reverence. Filial reverence was always beautiful and always honourable. It would not write a wrinkle on the brow that grows more beautiful with age, or touch with pain the heart loved for the love it had given. Filial honour grows with years. We become better sons and daughters the more the memory of those we first knew and loved

Wins a glory from their being far,

and orbs into a rounded and mellow beauty we did not see while in their home. It is doubtful whether any daughter ever knew what her mother was or how she loved her till she herself had tasted the bliss and pain, the anxieties and joys, of motherhood. Possibly no son ever honoured his father as he could and should have honoured him till he had sons clustering round his own knees and sitting at his own table. So Christ seeks to create filial love by creating a conscious filial relation, certain that the reverence which flows from love would make " worship in spirit and in truth " a happy necessity, local and sensuous worship a sure impossibility. The idea of God which Judaea cast out and Samaria received was the idea creative of the true worship, everywhere possible, but possible only as ethical. And for this faith, what hope? The Outcast of Jerusalem, the city of the one God, might well despond. Yet to Him comfort had come and largest hope. His own words to the woman, the woman's attitude to Himself and His truth, had evoked visions that became to Him, weary as He was, as the very food of God. He saw the world standing all open in eye and soul to receive His truth, made by it reverent, obedient, holy; and His words told the vision that gladdened His soul: " Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal: that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together."¹²

1) John ii. 1-11.

2) Ibid. ii. 13.

3) John ii. 16.

4) John i. 14; cf. Rev. xxi. 3, 22.

5) Matt, xviii. 3; Mark x. 15; Luke xviii. 17.

6) Titus iii. 5; 1 Peter i. 3, ii. 2; 1 Cor. iv. 15; Gal. iv. 29; Phil. 10; 1 John ii. 29; iii. 9; v. 1, 4, 8.

7) Matt. iii. n; John i. 33; Matt, xxviii. 19; Acts i. 5; xi. 16.

8) John i. 14, 1 8; 1 John iv. 9.

9) John i. 4, 5, 7-9; 1 John i. 5; iv. 8-10.

10) John iii. 22; iv. i, 2.

11) Ibid. iv. 3, 5.

12) John iv. 35,36.