But, in the first place, as I will show in a moment, the contrast between the Gospels and Epistles in this matter is by no means so sharply defined as is often supposed.  And further, granting that there is a contrast—­that what in the Gospels is only a hint or suggestion, becomes in the Epistles a definite and formal statement—­it is one which admits of a simple and immediate explanation.  Christ—­this was Dr. Dale’s way of putting it—­did not come to preach the gospel; He came that there might be a gospel to preach.  This must not be pressed so far as to imply that it is only the death and not also the life of Christ that has any significance for us to-day; but if that death had any significance in it at all, if it was anything more to Him than death is to us, if it stood in any sort of relation to us men and our salvation, manifestly the teaching which should make this plain would more fittingly follow than precede the death.  And they at least who accept Christ’s words, “I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now.  Howbeit when He, the Spirit of truth, is come, He shall guide you into all truth”—­they, I say, who accept these words can find no difficulty in believing that part of the revelation which it was the good pleasure of the Father to give to us in His Son, came through the lips of men who spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit.  Moreover, when we turn to the Gospels we see at once that the interpretation of Christ’s death was just one of those things which the disciples as yet were unable to bear.  The point is so important that it is worth while dwelling upon it for a moment.  So far were the Twelve from being able to understand their Lord’s death, that they would not even believe that He was going to die.  “Be it far from Thee, Lord,” cried Peter, when Christ first distinctly foretold His approaching end; “this shall never be unto Thee.”  When, at another time, He said unto His disciples, “Let these words sink into your ears; for the Son of Man shall be delivered up into the hands of men,” St. Luke adds, “But they understood not this saying.”  And again, after another and similar prophecy, the evangelist writes with significant reiteration, “They understood none of these things; and this saying was hid from them, and they perceived not the things that were said.”  So was it all through those last months of our Lord’s life.  His thoughts were not their thoughts, neither were His ways their ways.  They followed Him as He pressed along the highway, His face steadfastly set to go up to Jerusalem, but they could not understand Him.  Why, if as He had said, death waited Him there, did He go to seek it?  Think what utter powerlessness to enter even a little way into His thoughts is revealed in a scene like this:  Two of His disciples, James and John, came to Him to ask Him that they might sit, one on His right hand, and one on His left hand, in His glory.  Jesus said unto them, “Ye know not what ye ask.  Are ye able to drink the cup that I drink? or to be