re not in accord with
the facts; nevertheless, they insist that his utterances do not settle
purely literary questions. They believe that Jesus shared the views of
the people, that he actually thought that Moses wrote the entire
Pentateuch, and Isaiah, the whole of the book bearing his name; but
that this was a limitation of knowledge on his part. And they further
insist that this attitude toward Jesus in no wise affects the supreme
and final authority of the Christ over the lives of men. The entire
life of the Master, they say, shows that he regarded his mission as
spiritual; he did not come to correct all errors, but merely those
touching religion and {97} ethics; and even here he did not give
detailed specific rules. In many cases he simply laid down great
principles, which in time might be worked out and applied to the
details of human activity. He did not abolish slavery, he made no
efforts to correct errors in science; why should he correct erroneous
views respecting literary and critical questions? These were outside
of his immediate sphere of interest. His knowledge or ignorance in
these secondary matters does not necessarily involve his knowledge or
authority in essentials.[26] Again, while Christ was God, he was also
truly man. This union of the divine with the human, if real, must have
brought some limitations. And the New Testament clearly teaches that
in some respects the powers of Christ were limited. His omnipotence
was limited, else he could not have felt hunger, weariness, pain, etc.
As strength was needed, it was supplied. It may have been there
potentially, but not actually. Might it not have been the same with
omniscience? In one case, at least, Jesus admits that his knowledge
was limited: "But of that day or hour knoweth no one, not even the
angels in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father."[27] And, surely,
that which, according to this admission, was hidden from Jesus was, as
compared with a question of the authorship of a biblical book, of
infinitely greater importance. It would seem, therefore, {98} that B.
P. Raymond is right when he says: "To affirm that he had knowledge of
the critical questions which agitate Christian scholars to-day is to
deny that he was made like unto his brethren. It is to compromise the
reality of his humanity and to start on the road that leads to
docetism. Fairbairn's conclusions are just; 'The humanity of the
Saviour must be absolutely real.'"[28]