This, beyond all doubt, has been and is the Christian way of thinking about Christ.  But now the question arises, Was this Christ’s way of thinking about Himself?  Did He Himself claim to be one with God? or, is it only we, His adoring disciples, who have crowned Him with glory and honour, and given Him a name that is above every name?  To those of us who have been familiar with the New Testament ever since we could read, the question may appear so simple as to be almost superfluous.  Half-a-dozen texts leap to our lips in a moment by way of answer.  Did He not claim to be the Messiah in whom Old Testament history and prophecy found their fulfilment and consummation?  Did He not call Himself the Son of God, saying, “The Father hath given all judgment unto the Son; that all may honour the Son, even as they honour the Father”?  Did He not declare, “I and My Father are one”? and again, “All things have been delivered unto Me of My Father:  and no one knoweth the Son, save the Father; neither doth any know the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son willeth to reveal Him”?  And when one of the Twelve bowed down before Him, saying, “My Lord and my God,” did He not accept the homage as though it were His by right?  What further need, then, have we of witnesses?  Is it not manifest that the explanation of all that has been claimed for Christ, from the days of the apostles until now, is to be found in what Christ claimed for Himself?

This is true; nevertheless it may be well to remind ourselves that Christ Himself did not thrust the evidence on His disciples in quite this wholesale, summary fashion.  It is an easy thing for us to scour the New Testament for “proof-texts,” and then, when they are heaped together at our feet like a load of bricks, to begin to build our theological systems.  But Peter and Thomas and the other disciples could not do this.  The revelation which we possess in its completeness was given to them little by little as they were able to receive it.  And the moment we begin to study the life of Jesus, not in isolated texts, but as day by day it passed before the eyes of the Twelve, we cannot fail to observe the remarkable reserve which, during the greater part of His ministry, He exercised concerning Himself.  When first His disciples heard His call and followed Him, He was to them but a humble peasant teacher, who had flung about their lives a wondrous spell which they could no more explain than they could resist.  Indeed, there is good reason to believe, as Dr. Dale has pointed out,[14] that the full discovery of Christ’s Divinity only came to the apostles after His Resurrection from the dead.  At first, and for long, Christ was content to leave them with their poor, imperfect thoughts.  He never sought to carry their reason by storm; rather He set Himself to win them—­mind, heart, and will—­by slow siege.  He lived before them and with them, saying little directly about Himself, and yet always revealing Himself, day