(the Gospel of John)
Despite being raised as a Presbyterian, attending Sunday School both as a child and adult, and being regularly involved for many years in the church, until the past few years, I had only rarely read the Bible. I had quickly read through the entire Bible more than 30 years ago, but did not study what I had read to any real degree. Many church-goers would call me Biblically illiterate, and thus barely a Christian at all. During earlier years I have since been uninvolved in church, pursuing Scripture did not interest me enough to take the time to read or study it seriously. I think this is true for too many people, perhaps even the majority of Christians. Church attendance is too often deemed to be enough: an hour or two on (some) Sundays, then the rest of week must be lived otherwise. There is too little time, it seems, for reading our beloved Bible.
Several years ago, I bought a newly translated version of the New Testament by an American scholar, wound up reading it entirely, and then did so (again) with the Old Testament (what Jews call the Tanakh). More recently, I re-read the OT prophets to see if I had missed anything important. So, I read the entire Bible within a figurative blink of an eye, considering how old I am. That I only feel a little embarrassed in saying this reflects a commonplace fact: too many Christians do not have more than a cursory understanding of the Bible, and too many of us are fine with this. While the Bible is well-known and well-sold, it is not necessarily many peoples’ favorite book. I have probably read the OT at length as much as I care to, since, for me, it primarily belongs to the Jews, and the rest of us borrow it mostly for its relevance to Jesus. While the OT prophecies about Jesus are interesting, they pale in comparison to what we learn about Him in the Gospels. Aspects of Isaiah and Jeremiah in particular do seriously interest me. I find the Book of Revelation to be overly hyperbolic, and frankly not useful. Paul’s work is of greater interest, though he labors over some points too much. The Gospels of Matthew and Luke are too derivative (I really mean plagiaristic) of Mark’s Gospel to be truly anymore helpful, aside from the Sermon on the Mount, the Beatitudes and Luke’s birth narrative of Jesus, if it is indeed historically true. Which primarily leaves me with Mark’s and John’s Gospels, the Book of Acts and, secondarily, Paul. So, even after reading the whole Bible, I have become (too) picky about what inspires and keeps me curious.
My evolving fondness for John’s Gospel began rather accidently. I got an email from a Baptist seminary offering a free on-line course on this Gospel, so I listened to it, but found it lacking much substance, despite being taught by the president of the seminary. This soon led me to read books by several authors, including a two-volume scholar’s commentary which covered the entire Gospel, line by line, with much background material provided on its 1st Century Jewish context. I realized that I had to re-read Mark’s Gospel, because its simpler nature, akin to journalistic “reportage” of Jesus’ life and mission, serves as a clearer introduction to John’s more spiritual language. I have come to see Mark’s and John’s Gospels as a “curious pair,” and indeed, some Biblical scholars are persuaded that John had at least a working familiarity with Mark’s Gospel, and perhaps all three Synoptics. John’s material is about 85% distinct from the Synoptics, as though he wished to provide “the rest of the story” about Jesus. I have personally concluded that John’s Gospel is the most important book in the Bible, but, without Mark’s Gospel, it does not make enough sense. John’s has been called “the spiritual Gospel,” but it is not that simple. In the past 50 or so years, scholars have re-examined this Gospel to better appreciate its unique qualities in telling the story of Jesus. So, quite accidentally, it has become my favorite, and I have now read it several times. It is a Biblical, spiritual diamond of sorts, which I will explain.
*
Of all the Gospels, John’s is probably the most controversial and the least well-understood. Biblical scholars often disagree about many of its aspects: even, after all these centuries, who wrote it and when. Possible authors include: (most commonly) John the Apostle, son of Zebedee, often considered to be “the Beloved Disciple” in this Gospel; a shadowy figure named John the Elder, based in Jerusalem, who was a follower of Jesus; the disciple Thomas, or even Lazarus. Few other candidates are taken seriously. Dating the Gospel to ca. 90-95 CE is a general scholarly consensus, placing it later than any of the Synoptics. One problem with such a late date is that either the Apostle John and/or the Beloved Disciple (whether one or two different people) would have been quite old by that time, particularly in antiquity. Theories of one, two or three editions of the Gospel have been proposed. There is a vague reference to the death of the Beloved Disciple quite late in the Gospel, such that a secondary author or “redactor” might have finished it as a sort of ancient ghost writer. One point that everyone agrees on is the clear sense that this Gospel is based on someone’s eyewitness testimony, certainly more so than in the Synoptics. While Peter was consulted in writing Mark’s Gospel, he did no writing of his own, and Jon Mark was free to recollect Peter’s stories about Jesus as he wished. In John’s Gospel, Jesus speaks at greater length more regularly, to the degree that it is likely someone is writing His words down, much like a modern-day stenographer. The level of His abstract reasoning in the “Farewell Discourses” (chapters 14-16) becomes too complex to be simply remembered, however accurately. For the first time in the Gospels, we have a clearer sense of how Jesus sounds, less edited yet still elusive. Scholars generally divide this Gospel into “The Book of Signs” (chapters 1-12) and “The Book of Glory” (chapters 13-21) to highlight both the practical and spiritual aspects of Jesus’ ministry.
In contrast to the year-long time frame of Jesus’ ministry in the Synoptics, in John’s Gospel Jesus attends three Passovers (Pesach) as well as (perhaps) Pentecost (Shavuot), the autumnal Feast of the Tabernacles (Sukkot) and Hannukah one time each. Hence, His mission lasts some two to three years. The sense of chronology is less clear, and Jesus travels back and forth from Galilee to Jerusalem as well as venturing into Samaria, where He is surprisingly well-received. The Samaritans had long-held grievances against their fellow Jews in Judea, due to their belief that their own Temple on Mount Gerizim was the “real” Temple location deserving of worship, so the two groups of Jews did not fraternize. We briefly hear from other disciples about who Jesus might be, and how could Nazareth produce a prophet of His apparent magnitude. Chapters are quite varied, with little obvious continuity between them until Passion Week. We hear Nicodemus’ perplexity over being “born again.” There are many singular vignettes that make for interesting reading. In contrast to the hurried pace of Mark’s Gospel, with its murky ending regarding Jesus’ resurrection, John’s pace is slower as our picture of Jesus steadily evolves. There are no parables, there is no “official” Last Supper and no angst in Gethsemane, though there are miracles (“signs”), such as the raising of Lazarus, and there is, above all, the Beloved Disciple’s finding what we now call the Shroud of Turin and the Sudarium of Oviedo in Jesus’ tomb. We also get a better sense of the local topography and of Jewish culture. It has become my delight to read and re-read, as it is where Jesus more readily comes alive.
*
I will provide a general overview of John’s Gospel, with some personal commentary. Bear in mind, as with the rest of the Bible, it is a mixture of historical facts, embellishments of such facts and some possible outright fabrication. As many others have mentioned, the Bible is not a history textbook, as the ancients did not so easily distinguish between fact and fiction. The mythological stories of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the Exodus and Noah’s flood are indeed useful as an explanatory means of understanding how the world worked to them. I otherwise in no way accept the inerrancy of the Bible — it was written by men inspired by God, but not God Himself, as He did not have to write, having created the universe. I will take up John’s Prologue near the end of the discussion, and so begin with Jesus’ well-known culinary triumph: turning water into wine.
What is important about the wedding at Cana is that Mary makes a sort of motherly demand of Jesus that He is not ready to fulfill, as His ministry has at most barely begun, yet He appeases her out of sense of a son’s duty. This revelation has no relevance to the sort of healing miracles which come later, yet the episode, in John’s words, “made His glory manifest” (2:11). John places Jesus’ destruction of the money-changers’ tables quite early in his Gospel, which could explain why “the Jews” (who represent the religious elite, and not the general Jewish populace) are already incensed and want to kill Him. Scholars have questioned how big a stir this incident would have caused within the huge courtyards of the Temple, though the episode must have aroused more than a little consternation. During this first of three Passovers, Jesus begins to draw crowds and develop a following. John’s theme of light and darkness (also a motif for the Essenes) is discussed with Nicodemus, and that “God’s ire” will rest upon those who reject Jesus as God’s Son. While the woman at the well in Samaria does accept Jesus, He reminds her that “salvation is from the Judeans” (4:22) as she and her own people await the coming of their Mashiach, so Jesus stays with them for two days. Rejected by His own people in Nazareth, Jesus becomes based across Galilee, often in Capernaum and sometimes in Cana, while continuing to visit Jerusalem for the annual festivals. John correctly describes the pool at Bethesda, with its five porticos (as confirmed archaeologically), where Jesus heals a man lame man on the Sabbath, which riles up the Pharisees for equating Himself with God. While there is the sense that Jesus is indeed seeing Himself in God’s fold as (at least) His Son, He repeatedly says that He is subservient to God, hence I see this as no endorsement on His part of a Trinitarian posture. There are differing versions of “the Son can do nothing from Himself, except what He sees the Father doing” (5:19) sprinkled throughout this Gospel, and most clearly: “Of Myself, I can do nothing. If I testify concerning myself, my testimony is not true” (5:31). Rather, Jesus equates Himself more directly with Moses, “in whom you had hoped” (5:45). Jesus’ preferred name for Himself will come soon enough.
As His healings become better-known, Jesus feeds the 5,000 and walks upon the water to impress His frightened disciples that He is indeed a divinely-transfused being. He tells the crowds about “having descended from Heaven to do the will of the One having sent Me” (6:38), and proposes that He is the new manna from Heaven for their eternal life. An early allusion to what we call the Eucharist is made, but proves confusing, even unbearable to His disciples and others. Jesus refers to Himself as “the Son of Man,” echoing the term from the Book of Daniel about a mysterious figure who comes to pronounce “the End of Days.” Jesus attends Sukkot amidst hostility from the Pharisees, and we must remember that John’s Gospel was written during a period when the Johannine community was also drawing the wrath of more traditional Jews, who wound up expelling them from the synagogues. Thus, John’s use of “the Jews” is quite personal — Jews against Jews concerning whether their Mashiach had already come or not. Despite His statements and actions, Jesus continues to gain followers in Jerusalem, while others remain skeptical. Some scholars have noted the cultural divide between Jerusalem and Galilee, and it is true that Nazareth had no synagogue during Jesus’ time, with at most several hundred inhabitants. The Pharisees demand that “a prophet is not raised up out of the Galilee” (7:52). The story of the woman caught in adultery is straight-forward, with Jesus drawing in the sand with His finger as He ponders what to do about her. He soon drops the bomb that will provoke much Pharisaic wrath: “I tell you, before Abraham came to be, I AM” (8:58), leaving them frothing to stone Jesus then and there.
Next, a chapter-long story about Jesus healing a beggar blind from birth at the pool of Siloam, who is interrogated by the Pharisees, they wondering whether he is malingering, yet genuinely ask “How can a sinful man (Jesus, who again heals on the Sabbath) perform such signs?” (9:16). The beggar’s parents are also questioned, but answer the Pharisees hesitantly, fearful they could be expelled from their synagogue. Under such questioning, the beggar asks the Pharisees “Do you wish to become His disciples?” ((9;27), to which they respond “We do not know where this man comes from” (9:29), summarizing their ongoing dilemma with Jesus until He is crucified. They do relent by saying “If this man were not from God, He could not do anything.” (9:33). The beggar is then expelled from the synagogue by the insulted Pharisees, and Jesus later helps him to understand about His being the Son of Man. Spiritual wisdom sprouts from an unlikely source.
A second lengthy story concerns the familiar raising of Lazarus, Jesus’ good friend, in Bethany, on His way to Jerusalem for what will become Passion Week. He purposely waits two extra days before arriving there to show Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary, that He is still capable of raising Lazarus after he has died, accompanied by His half-believing but curious disciples. Through Martha’s faith that Jesus is indeed their long-sought Mashiach, Lazarus is raised on the fourth day, one day later than the usual Jewish burial customs are performed. This story foretells much about what will come later when Jesus is arrested, particularly Pontius Pilate’s confusion over what to do about Him. More than anything else that happens, it is likely this episode that seals Jesus’ fate, due to the ongoing Pharisaic wrath and fear of Roman intervention against them, now coupled with their worsening envy over Jesus’ miracle-making.
Before the third Pesach, the Jewish religious leaders, admittedly envious of Jesus, now consider killing Lazarus after his being raised, as Jesus continues to gain the favor of other Jews who see
Him as “someone special.” There is Palm Sunday, with Jesus riding on the donkey as foretold in Zechariah 9:9, as the Pharisees mutter: “The world has gone after Him.” (12:19). Others continue to remain skeptical of Jesus, however, as He begins to allude to His ministry soon coming to a close. Knowing Judas Iscariot will soon betray Him, Jesus washes the disciples’ feet to provide to them an example of servitude before predicting that all of them will soon betray Him. He tells them that where He is going, they can not follow Him, but promises “not to leave you orphans.” (14:18). He will send to them “the Advocate,” the Holy Spirit, who will “teach you everything,” and not to be afraid. It is the beginning of the end, and, of course, the disciples are troubled. Philip asks to be shown God, but Jesus denies him, as was Moses denied, and a sense of foreboding ensues.
Four chapters can be summarized as what scholars have called discourses: Jesus speaking at greater length to His disciples about both what is to come as well as how they are to continue on without Him. These discourses are virtually never read or discussed in church, which is unfortunate, because they give us the clearest sense of how Jesus sees Himself and His ministry. John’s use of what poets call “circular language” in his prologue probably comes from these discourses, perhaps hearing this directly from Jesus in loving kinship with His disciples, to whom He is providing a kind of substantial “spiritual pep talk” for their work after He is gone. This is where the description of Jesus as “the good shepherd” comes from, which adorns the names of so many Protestant churches, calling Himself “the sheep’s gate” (10:7). His followers (“sheep”) will not follow “hirelings” (the Jewish religious elite), but only the shepherd who also has “sheep which are not from this fold” (the Gentiles), and so “there will come to be one flock, one shepherd” (10:16). His death and resurrection are again highlighted before being encircled by “the Judeans,” asking Jesus “For how long are you going to keep a grip on our souls?” (10:24). Jesus replies that they “are not from among My sheep,” (10:26), to which “the Judeans” again threaten to stone Him because “You are a man making yourself out to be God” (10:33). Jesus replies that He is indeed the Son of God. The “farewell discourses” consist entirely of Jesus telling the disciples about His relationship with God, telling them to keep the Commandments, and that the world “hates” Him, God and them. They will eventually be expelled from the synagogues, but that He must “go away” in order for “the Advocate” to come upon them. The disciples are understandably confused and “anguished,” as Jesus will die and be resurrected “in a little while,” while He tells them “I have conquered the cosmos” (16:33). At length, Jesus describes the singular purpose of His and their mission: to truly bring God into an oppressive and distrusting world. These “speeches” are given in place of the Last Supper as described in the Synoptics, using His holy words instead of sacramental bread and wine. It is not an “either/or” but “both” words and nourishment that Jesus provides as His encouraging them for the long journey ahead, too soon without Him. As I said earlier, I think someone is writing all of this down, because it is too memorable.
We then come to the arrest, trial and crucifixion of Jesus, and John’s Gospel shares much in common with the Synoptics in this account, although some details are different. Peter cuts off Caiaphas’ slave’s ear when Jesus is arrested, and the Beloved Disciple is allowed to meet with Caiaphas, while Peter famously denies knowing Jesus three times. It is nearly dawn when Jesus encounters Pilate, who finds “absolutely no case against Him” (18:38). While there is no historical confirmation of Pilate’s authority to release a prisoner during Pesach, this appears in all four Gospels — but why would he want to release Barabbas, perhaps a zealot? After Jesus is flogged, Pilate still wants to release Him, but “the Judeans” demand for Him to be crucified, telling Pilate “If you release this man, you are not a friend of Caesar” (19:12). Jesus then carries His own cross (no Simon of Cyrene) to Golgotha, where His mother, Mary, the Beloved Disciple and two other Marys (Mary’ sister and Magdalene) watch Him get hammered to the cross. Jesus drinks hyssop to relieve His pain, but once dead, His legs are not broken, as is the typical Roman action during crucifixion. Joseph of Arimathea has Jesus placed in a new tomb, wrapped in linen cloths, which we now know were quite expensive.
Some 36 hours later, Mary Magdalene finds Jesus in an adjacent garden after Peter and the Beloved Disciple see the linen clothes in the empty tomb. Thus, He reveals Himself first to a weeping woman, who is disbelieved when she tells the disciples she has found their Master. Jesus later comes through the walls of the Upper Room, and Thomas proclaims his allegiance to Jesus as God’s divine Son. In the last chapter, we find Jesus on the beach grilling fish, then revealing Himself to seven of His disciples, who have been fishing unsuccessfully, so He “helps them out” with a bursting catch of (exactly) 153 fish. In a scene I have never even heard mentioned in church but displays (for me) a sarcastic Jesus, He asks Peter three times: “Do you love Me?” and tells them that the Beloved Disciple “will not die,” which is, of course, not true, though John lived to be quite old. Peter’s own later crucifixion is also foretold. We are told “there are many other things that Jesus also did” (21:25), which only makes us curious, and there the story ends.
*
Why do I call John’s Gospel “a sort of Scriptural diamond?” As can be seen, nearly each chapter presents new material, which ranges from specific episodes about individuals being healed to debates between Jesus and the Pharisees, and a large-scale feeding of thousands of people. The variety of material, combined with its intensely spiritual presentation, renders this Fourth Gospel as our primary lens through which to view Jesus as an increasingly divine man-god blessed by His holy Father with both a miraculous healing touch as well as wisdom beyond what we mere mortals can either conceive of or often fathom. It is diamond-like in its many-faceted portraits of Jesus doing the work of His ministry in various locales and with a variety of fellow Jews to provide evidence that indeed their Mashiach has finally come, He knowing that He will not be well-received and thus will ultimately die for His cause. Each chapter is its own story, and can be either read alone or in conjunction with others to sample the range of what is offered, akin to eating pieces of differently-flavoured cakes in a dessert buffet. John’s Gospel must come out of a personal experience of witnessing Jesus up close and then pondering this for perhaps decades, in the meantime learning sufficient Greek to be able to write it all down. It is the distilled wisdom of an older man who knows how fortunate he was to be allowed to walk with Jesus long enough to change his own life. It took me several readings of this Gospel before I could really appreciate its special qualities of both the ordinary and the divine, its crystalline wisdom and its singular surprise near the end.
That surprise? John 20:1-9 tells how the Beloved Disciple and Peter run to find the linen shrouds in the empty tomb. As I mentioned earlier, these are the Shroud of Turin and the Sudarium of Oviedo, which, through ongoing scientific analysis, are linked together by the same blood stain patterns and so belong to the same man. The Beloved Disciple “saw and believed” that Jesus was the Mashiach based on finding these cloths, despite the Shroud’s faint appearance without the benefit of our magnification and photography. It is clear to him that Jesus’ image has been imprinted on the cloth, and that God has done so. He thus literally holds divinity in his own hands, which could not be denied. It is this personally-held sentiment that forms the basis for John’s famous Prologue, which is read in church every Christmas. John uses Jesus’ own circular language from the Farewell Discourses to articulate a quasi-poetic summary of both his time with Jesus and the divine revelation startling him at the tomb. Even if Jesus is ultimately rejected by many of the Jews, God makes sure that His disciples do not do so. Thus, God’s own greeting card.
I met a young man years ago who told me that he was an atheist. I asked if he was familiar with the Shroud, and he nodded affirmatively. When I asked what he thought of it, he admitted “I don’t know about that,” implying it could be genuine. It is genuine. Only in John’s Gospel does Jesus so readily prove Himself to be who He says He is, and so the disciples respond: “Now we know that You know all things. By this we have faith that You came forth from God.” (16:30).
January 2022
Every Day Easter 