That the love wherewith thou hast loved (better, didst love) me may be in them, and I in them.--Comp. Note on John 15:9. The thought of Christ's prayer in this verse is expanded in St. Paul's prayer in Ephesians 3:17-19. It is more than that God may love the disciples, even as He loved the Son; it is that they may so know the nature of God that this love may be in them, dwelling in them as the principle of their life. And then the thought passes on to that fulness which has been present all through this last discourse and prayer, "and I in them." (Comp. John 17:23.) Going from them, to be yet with them; not to be with them only as a Person without, but as a power within. "I in them" are the last words of the Intercessory Prayer. The words remain in all their comfort for them in whom "Christ is formed;" in all their encouragement for doubting hearts seeking to know God; in all their warning for hearts that do not seek His presence. They are the prayer of Him who knoweth that the Father always heareth Him.

5. Review of the difficulties attending the preservation and characteristics of this discourse and prayer. The sublime comprehensiveness of the prayer; its augmenting swell of thought; the awful depth of its self-consciousness; the limpid simplicity of its style; the movement from himself to his disciples, to the entire Church, to the outlying world; the ground on which he bases every prayer; the imperial dignity of the Pleader; the total absence of any sense of personal weakness or sinfulness; the revelation and insight thus granted into the heart of the God-man; its naturalness, if we concede the foregoing character; its profound humility, if we bear in mind his unique claims; - constitute this page a supernatural phenomenon. Christ himself is the greatest of his miracles. The supposition that some unknown writer of the second century excogitated such a conception out of the synoptic narrative, the Pauline Epistles, and the Alexandrine philosophy, refutes itself. We admit, with F. W. Newman, with Reuss, and with all the rationalist critics, that it is difficult to understand how the apostle could have reproduced so accurately this wondrous discourse and the prayer; but the author practically admits that it was a supernatural process of memory (John 14:25, 26). Still, there are facts enough in the natural sphere and within the knowledge of all, that such extraordinary efforts of memory are by no means uncommon. John was the contemporary of men whose surprising memory held the whole 'Mishna' and thousands of illustrative comments, 'Halacha,' and 'Hagada' ready for constant reference and application. The rishis of India, the Greek rhapsodists, mediaeval minnesingers, and wandering bards, have had imprinted indelibly and verbally on their recollection ten or twenty times the bulk of this wondrous discourse. John was young, impressionable, intimately acquainted with his Lord, though needing many things to complete his apprehension of his glory; and, even apart from Divine or spiritual aid, there is no reason to dispute its accuracy. The impression that this discourse and prayer have produced on the general consciousness of the Church, is, that none but Christ could have uttered these words, and he only at such a conjuncture. Keim insists that John, if it were he, by this narrative annihilates the synoptic tradition of the agony in the garden. And we do not deny that the intercalation of that agony between this prayer and the sublime manner in which Jesus meets the band of soldiers, renders a harmony of the Gospels at this point very difficult. The difficulty does not so much arise from the fact that the profound and awful strife should follow upon this sublime and lofty calm, upon this imperial and Divine prerogative, but that throughout the Johannine recital of the events which occurred on the night of betrayal and Passion, the same exalted demeanor is preserved, and numerous incidents and sayings are recorded which appear discrepant with the utter prostration and overwhelming affliction revealed in the synoptic narrative. This contrast must not be minimized, and cannot be disputed. The question to be decided is whether the twofold aspect of the scene can possibly represent the truth, or whether it proceeds from the theological prepossessions of a later writer, who imagined the behavior of the incarnate Logos under these conditions without any real and deep foundation in reality. By way of preface to an expository treatment, it is desirable to observe that John throughout received impressions from his Lord of a profoundly different character from that of the other observers, and throughout he saw the Divine manifestation which, while they witnessed it, they did not penetrate as he had done. The veil of the human phenomena concealed much from their spiritual apprehension. The different manner in which the same event is described by two witnesses, and the different constructions put upon the same action when viewed with diverse presuppositions, is of too common occurrence to need illustration. Luke represents the tradition concerning the Son of man in the hour of his deepest dejection. John represents what he saw of the ineffably Divine element which triumphed over the human. The angle of vision was different, the sensitive brooding and susceptible nature of John was unlike the impetuous human passion of Peter's soul, and the resultant impression on them both of the whole cycle of events was correspondingly different. Then let it be noticed that John, who knew the synoptic narrative, deliberately omitted what had passed into universal credence, such as the Transfiguration, the Holy Supper, and the Ascension: why was he not at liberty to omit the agony in the garden and the traitor's kiss? He takes up his story after the surprise was over, and when the Lord had resumed the tone of the voluntary Sufferer and Divine Savior; and if we compare the two descriptions of that scene, they supplement and explain one another. Numerous incidents throughout the closing scenes, which are omitted by John, are recorded by one or more of the evangelists, and some facts and words are peculiar to the Johannine narrative. These omissions from and additions to the synoptic narrative have been supposed to reveal the purpose of the theologian rather than the record of the eyewitness. It is rashly asserted that John omits the symptoms of human weakness and shame, and exaggerates the signs of Divine indwelling and of lofty prerogative. This, however, is by no means true. He does omit the agony in the garden, but he gives in John 12. the analogue of that awful scene, and the same Divine spirit with which it was consummated. He omits the "traitor's kiss," but he hints the occurrence of that crowning treachery. He does omit the record of the desertion by the disciples, but (John 16:32) he records the prediction of it. He omits the incident of the false witness and the adjuration, but it should in all fairness be remembered that he also omitted the great confession of the Lord's Messiah-ship and exaltation; and while he passes by the incidents of the mockery of the Lord, he records other matters and methods of mockery which are equally humiliating (John 19:12). If he omits the examinations before Caiaphas and Herod, he gives that which the synoptic tradition had lest sight of in the first examination before Annas and in the private interview with Pilate. The hand-washing of Pilate and the dream of his wife are passed over, but the conduct of Pilate is made far more intelligible by that private interview. The evangelists Luke and Matthew both record features of sorrow and words from the cross and pot-tents attending the Crucifixion, which confer a royal prerogative and a Divine significance on his death. The rending of the veil, the confession of the centurion, the great earthquake, the supernatural darkness, the repentance and acceptance of the dying brigand, - all these we might reasonably expect, on the theory of theological prepossession, to have been found in the Fourth Gospel; and what is more remarkable still on that hypothesis is that the most peculiar and pathetic feature of the last hours is an exhibition of Christ's perfect humanity and filial love, which the other narrators fail to touch (John 19:25-27). We conclude, therefore, that the matters in which the narratives agree are abundant and remarkable, and their divergences cannot be accounted for on the ground of theological bias. The exposition of the following chapters will bring the several lacunae, correspondences, and peculiarities into yet fuller prominence.

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