The objection would be valid if history stood alone. But history does not stand alone. It has suffered from a false isolation. A Christian certitude that is founded solely upon history is insufficient. History is necessary, but not sufficient. We need history, but we need something else as well.
A historical conviction of the resurrection of Jesus is not the end of faith, but only the beginning. If faith stops there, it will never stand the fires of criticism. We are told that Jesus lives. So much is a matter of testimony, a matter of history. If we believe the witness, then we can have hope. But the religious problem of our lives has not yet been solved. Jesus lives. But what good is it to us? If he lives, we need to find him. We need to find him, and we can find him. We accept the message of the resurrection enough to make trial of it. And making trial of it, we find that it is true. Jesus is found to be alive, for he makes answer to our prayer, and heals us. We never could have come to him unless we had accepted the historical evidence for the resurrection. But starting with that historical belief we went on to the blessed experience of salvation. Christian experience cannot do without history. But it adds to history that directness, that immediateness, that simplicity of conviction, which delivers us from fear. We began with history. But we went on to experience. "Now we believe, not because of thy speaking: for we have heard for ourselves, and know that this is indeed the Saviour of the world."
Jesus is alive. If we find him, he will heal us. But how shall we find him? In the New Testament we receive instruction.
In the New Testament a strange fact stares us in the face. The New Testament seems far more concerned with the death of Jesus than with the details of his life. Learned men have tried in vain to explain that curious fact. In elaborate treatises they have sought the explanation. But it is really very simple. The New Testament emphasizes the death of Jesus because that is what Jesus did for us--or rather, coming after his perfect obedience to the law, it is the culmination of what he did for us. In the account of Jesus' life we are told what Jesus did for others. That account is absolutely necessary. Without it we should never have been interested in Jesus at all. But it is to us a means to an end, not an end in itself. We read in the Gospel what Jesus did for others. For one he placed his fingers in the ears and said, "Be opened"; to another he said, "Arise, take up thy bed, and walk"; to another, "Thy sins are forgiven." These things are what Jesus did for others. But what has he done for us? The answer of the New Testament is plain. For us he does not say, "Arise and walk." For us--he died. That mysterious thing which was wrought on Calvary--that was his work for us. The cross of Christ is a mystery. In the presence of it theology walks after all with but trembling, halting footsteps. Learning will never unlock its meaning. But to the penitent sinner, though mysterious, though full of baffling riddles, it is plain enough. On the cross Jesus dealt with our sin. Our dreadful guilt, the condemnation of God's law--it is wiped out by an act of grace. It seemed inseparable from us. It was a burden no earthly friend could bear. But Christ is Master of the innermost secrets of the moral world. He has accomplished the impossible, he has borne our sins.