John 1:1-28

Prologue: Christ, the Eternal Word

1 In the beginning the Word already existed.

    The Word was with God,

    and the Word was God.

2 He existed in the beginning with God.

3 God created everything through him,

    and nothing was created except through him.

4 The Word gave life to everything that was created,[a]

    and his life brought light to everyone.

5 The light shines in the darkness,

    and the darkness can never extinguish it.[b]

6 God sent a man, John the Baptist,[c] 7 to tell about the light so that everyone might believe because of his testimony. 8 John himself was not the light; he was simply a witness to tell about the light. 9 The one who is the true light, who gives light to everyone, was coming into the world.

10 He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him. 11 He came to his own people, and even they rejected him. 12 But to all who believed him and accepted him, he gave the right to become children of God. 13 They are reborn—not with a physical birth resulting from human passion or plan, but a birth that comes from God.

14 So the Word became human[d] and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness.[e] And we have seen his glory, the glory of the Father’s one and only Son.

15 John testified about him when he shouted to the crowds, “This is the one I was talking about when I said, ‘Someone is coming after me who is far greater than I am, for he existed long before me.’”

16 From his abundance we have all received one gracious blessing after another.[f] 17 For the law was given through Moses, but God’s unfailing love and faithfulness came through Jesus Christ. 18 No one has ever seen God. But the unique One, who is himself God,[g] is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us.

The Testimony of John the Baptist

19 This was John’s testimony when the Jewish leaders sent priests and Temple assistants[h] from Jerusalem to ask John, “Who are you?” 20 He came right out and said, “I am not the Messiah.”

21 “Well then, who are you?” they asked. “Are you Elijah?”

“No,” he replied.

“Are you the Prophet we are expecting?”[i]

“No.”

22 “Then who are you? We need an answer for those who sent us. What do you have to say about yourself?”

23 John replied in the words of the prophet Isaiah:

“I am a voice shouting in the wilderness,

    ‘Clear the way for the Lord’s coming!’”[j]

24 Then the Pharisees who had been sent 25 asked him, “If you aren’t the Messiah or Elijah or the Prophet, what right do you have to baptize?”

26 John told them, “I baptize with[k] water, but right here in the crowd is someone you do not recognize. 27 Though his ministry follows mine, I’m not even worthy to be his slave and untie the straps of his sandal.”

28 This encounter took place in Bethany, an area east of the Jordan River, where John was baptizing.

 Basic Commentary

Commentary on John 1:1-28

Jesus is the one and only

Jesus Christ is the one and only. He ‘remains, to say the least of it, unique. If God is like Jesus, God is worth believing in,’ wrote the journalist Anthony Burgess.

The whole of John’s Gospel from start to finish is an answer to the question, ‘Who is Jesus?’ John’s answer is that God is like Jesus and he is worth believing in. Jesus is totally unique. He is the ‘One and Only’ (vv.14,18). He is the ‘one-of-a-kind God-expression’ (v.18, MSG). The purpose of John’s Gospel is to lead you into an experience of communion with God through friendship with Jesus.

You are a friend of Jesus. But who is Jesus?

Unique Word of God

John’s Gospel opens with a brilliant description of Jesus as ‘the Word’. To us this seems like a strange concept, but to John’s original readers it would have been much more familiar. The idea of the ‘word of God’ would have been important to Jewish readers. They would have remembered the words of God in creation (Genesis 1), and all that the prophets had to say about the ‘word of the Lord’ (for instance Isaiah 40:6–8 and Jeremiah 23:29).

For Greek readers the idea of ‘the Word’ would have been associated with the search for the meaning of life. Philosophers often used ‘the Word’ as a shorthand way of referring to the unknowable meaning and purpose behind the universe.

John’s opening words would have been electrifying to both groups. He was in effect saying, ‘I am going to tell you about what you’ve been searching for all this time.’

It is absolutely clear that ‘the Word’ that John is writing about is Jesus: ‘The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighbourhood’ (John 1:14a, MSG). Jesus was not only with God at the very beginning: ‘The Word was God’ (v.1, MSG). Jesus was and is God.

Unique Creator of all

‘Everything was created through him; nothing – not one thing! – came into being without him’ (v.3, MSG).

It is through Jesus that the entire universe came into being: ‘For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him’ (Colossians 1:16).

Unique light of the world

‘In him was life, and that life was the light of all the people. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it’ (John 1:4).

Light is a synonym of goodness and truth. Darkness is a synonym of evil and falsehood. Light and darkness are opposite, but not equal. A little candle can light a whole room full of darkness and will not be dimmed by it. Light is stronger than darkness; darkness cannot prevail against light.

Unique transformer of lives

‘Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God – children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God’ (vv.12–13).

Belief in Jesus brings about the biggest and most significant transformation possible. As you receive Jesus into your own life, so God receives you into his own family.

Unique revelation of God

‘No one has ever seen God, but God the One and Only, who is at the Father’s side, has made him known’ (v.18).

Everything in the Old Testament was leading up to God’s supreme revelation in Jesus. ‘We got the basics from Moses, and then this exuberant giving and receiving, this endless knowing and understanding – all this came through Jesus the Messiah’ (vv.16–17, MSG). This is why everything we read about in the Old Testament needs to be understood in light of Jesus.

Jesus is contrasted with John the Baptist. The emphasis is on what John the Baptist is not. He is not ‘the light’ (v.8). He is not eternal (v.15). He is not the Christ (v.20). He is not Elijah (v.21). He is not the Prophet (v.21).

Although Jesus says of John, ‘There has not risen anyone greater than John the Baptist’ (Matthew 11:11), John the Baptist says of Jesus, ‘He is the one who comes after me, the thongs of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie’ (John 1:27). John the Baptist’s task, like us all, is to point away from ourselves and to the one and only Jesus, the unique Word of God, creator of all, light of the world, transformer of lives and revealer of God.

Jesus, I worship you, the unique Word of God. I pray today for fresh revelation of who you are and a deeper understanding of what it means to be a child of God.

Advanced commentary 

The Prologue

The first chapter of John's Gospel falls into two parts: vss. 1-18 and vss. 19-51. The first part, the prologue, forms the introduction to the entire Gospel. Vs. 19 functions as a transition from the prologue to the gospel story.

The overall intent of the prologue is clear: to describe the background against which Jesus' historical self-disclosure must be understood. One can speak of the prologue as a splendidly constructed a priori introduction to the story, which is the gospel concerning Jesus of Nazareth. From the very start the person of Jesus and the significance of his work are placed in the context of the Word, which was in the beginning with God and to which all things that have been made owe their existence. It is the Word that in Jesus Christ came into the world, became flesh in him, dwelled among people, and was "beheld" in all its glory by those who saw him.

In the story that follows, certainly, the Word is no longer referred to in that separate sense, for the story speaks of the historical person of Jesus Christ, with whom the Word has been identified. But the entire story is full of the attributes that are ascribed to the Word in the prologue. For example, the story speaks of Jesus as "the Son" to whom the Father has granted to have "life in himself" (5:21, 24, 26; 6:51, 54, 57; cf. 1:4, 14, 18), who revealed his "glory" in the presence of his disciples (2:11; 17:22; cf. 1:14), who came into the world to be "the light of the world" (3:19; 8:12; 12:46, etc.; cf. 1:4, 5, 9), the light that shone in "the darkness" (12:35; 8:12) though the darkness did not receive it (3:19, 20; cf. 1:5, 10), who alone, as the one who was "with the Father," "has seen the Father" (6:46; cf. 1:1, 18), and who could speak of the glory he had with God before the world was made (17:5,24; cf. 1:18).1 Some interpreters have even believed that the structures of the prologue and of the gospel story are demonstrably parallel: 1:3 = 1:35-4:42 (Christ as re-creator), 1:4 = 4:43-6:71 (Christ as the life of the world), and l:4ff. = 7:1-9:41 (Christ as the light of the world).2 Although this division of 1:35 through ch. 9, taken as a whole, has some support in the key words of the prologue (1:1-4), it is too artificial to serve as a principle of division for the material in these chapters. But this is not to deny that the prologue and the gospel story form an intrinsic unity and have been "attuned" to each other. The story in several ways presupposes the prologue; in fact, in the elevated pronouncements Jesus makes concerning himself the story can hardly be understood apart from the thrust of the prologue; at least it would not have the context that the prologue gives to it. And, conversely, what is said in the prologue about the Word cannot be separated from the story's testimony concerning the historic self-disclosure of Jesus as the Christ as if it were simply free-standing. For the glory of the Word as that of the only begotten of the Father is "beheld" because the Word became flesh: The only Son who is in the bosom of the Father has made him known to us (1:18).3

For that reason the church has for a long time interpreted the prologue as an original and integral part of the Gospel. More recent research, however, has more or less radically backed away from that view. On the basis of the particular form of the prologue and the use of Logos ("Word") as a name, which we see only here in the Gospel, the distinctive character of the prologue has come to be strongly emphasized. Nowadays it is widely viewed as a separate hymn to the Logos. Some believe the Evangelist himself composed this hymn and afterwards inserted it as a preface to his Gospel,4 but by far the majority of scholars who regard it as such a hymn see it as an existing church hymn that the Evangelist employed as the introduction to his Gospel.5

As indicated, scholars base this opinion on the distinct artistic form of certain parts of the prologue, in particular the progressive parallelism visible most clearly in vss. 1-5, with each line containing the key term of the next line, forming a stairstep pattern: a-b, b-c, and so on.6 This gives to the prologue a certain regularity of diction that to some scholars suggests a poetic doxology devoted to the Logos, a hymn like those in Ep. 5:16 and Col. 3:16, with examples also in Ph. 2:6-11; Col. 1:15-20; and 1 Tm. 3:16.

Within this understanding of the prologue as a preexisting Logos hymn one does, of course, have to face the complication — no small one at that! — that the poetic form that emerges in vss. 1-5 (with the exception of vs. 2) is not continued. In vss. 6-8 and 15 we have prose statements about John the Baptist. In vss. 9-14 the poetic-hymnic style is resumed, but with increasing irregularities in the rhythm and in the length of the parallel parts (vss. 12c, 13). Also, as the prologue advances it contains an increasing number of elements and statements that in content no longer bear the hymnlike stamp of the beginning but increasingly change from a poetic to a polemic or kerygmatic mode of discourse. So, for example, vss. 16-18, which read more like added explanations than like parts of the hymn itself.

On the basis of all this scholars therefore assume that the original hymn was adapted by the Evangelist (or by a later redactor) by means of modifications, interruptions, and interpretive additions, in line with his intended purpose, that is, so that the hymn could function as an overture to his Gospel. But there are hardly two advocates of this general hypothesis who agree on what material is from the original hymn and what has to be attributed to the Evangelist.7 Some are generous in their identification of material deriving from the original hymn, but others are inclined to attribute much more to the Evangelist. A consensus exists only with regard to vss. 1, 3, 4, 10, and 11, which are regarded as being clearly from the hymn.

But another matter makes things even more complicated. The exegete must continually ask not only where he or she is dealing with the hymn and where with the Evangelist, but also whether the Evangelist in his use of the "hymn" has left the original intent intact or in adapting it to his own purpose has given it another meaning. The clearest example of this is what happens to the hymn if one considers the prose material in vss. 6-8 an insertion or interruption from the Evangelist. It is clear, precisely because of these verses, which introduce John into the Gospel, that all that follows in vss. 9ff. (and perhaps even earlier, vs. 5) is immediately related by the Evangelist to the coming and the work of Jesus. John was the witness of the light that Jesus was and brought.

But if one disregards, for the purposes of the hymn, vss. 6-8 as an insertion, the person of Jesus Christ does not seem to appear on the scene till much later, namely when the incarnation of the Logos is mentioned in vs. 14. The preceding statements then seem — in the hymn — to refer to the Logos asarkos, that is, to his préexistence with God (vss. 1-4), to his "asarkic" penetration of the world in general and Israel in particular (vss. 5, 9-13), and then to arrive in vs. 14 at the final phase, the incarnate existence of the Word. The result is that then the section as a whole gets an entirely different structure and meaning. Much more than is the case in the prologue as it stands, the hymn's description of the Logos is thus central as a priori information, of which the incarnation is then the conclusion and climax.

But in the prologue, as is clear from vss. 6ff., everything is christological from the start, a circumstance that of course will be reflected in our exegesis of vss. 1-5. To express this in somewhat polarizing fashion: In the first instance Jesus Christ appears under the aspect of the Logos, and in the second the Logos under that of Jesus Christ.8

Some interpreters are so convinced of the precedence of the "original" hymn over the "secondary" prologue that they leave vss. 6-8 out of consideration in their exegesis as an inappropriate and disturbing late addition.9 Others, like Bultmann, though they agree with this as far as the original hymn is concerned, nevertheless insist that the tum that the Evangelist gives to the sense of the hymn in vss. 6-8 must be examined on its own merits.10 It cannot be denied, however, that in this manner the exegesis of Scripture is forced to labor under a heavy encumbrance. It has to assign to certain passages a meaning that it knows is alien, if not outright opposed, to their original intent.11

Although the hypothesis of the Logos hymn is advocated by many authoritative commentators12 and is sometimes presented as a kind of exegetical dogma,13 it is not surprising that others have resisted it. If this hypothesis can be maintained only if one contents oneself with a fragmented and vaguely contoured picture of this hypothetical hymn and is prepared to involve oneself in a maze of adaptations and interpretations of this hymn, then the question arises whether this hypothesis does not sink under its own weight. For a long time now, and seemingly in increasing measure, forceful arguments have been advanced that answer that question in the affirmative and that maintain the original unity of the prologue, though on very divergent grounds and in a variety of ways.14

First, in 1951 (and it continues to be of interest today) Ruckstuhl brought a stylistic argument against the views of Bultmann and others that 1:1-18 does not constitute an original Johannine unit.15 If one nevertheless, like Schnackenburg, insists on maintaining the hypothesis of an antecedent Logos hymn (still recognizing the presence of these stylistic criteria also in the prologue), one will be forced to attribute ever more material to the Evangelist and will be less and less able to distinguish it from the peculiar features of the hypothetical hymn.16

Second, it has been pointed out from another direction that the inference of the existence of the hymn from the poetic character of the prologue passes too lightly over the criteria for such a poetic unit. In any case, the pertinent parts of the prologue do not stand up to evaluation in light of the precise rhythmic and metrical criteria of the Greek verse form:17 The construction, for all the parallelism, is too diverse and free. If one thinks in terms of a more Semitic verse form and hymnic construction, in which meter does not play the same role as in the Greek forms, the literary unity of the prologue presents fewer problems because then there is more room for divergent forms. Of course, then the question arises whether the hypothesis of an antecedent hymn can stand.

Old Testament scholar H. Gese believes, for example, that in its form the prologue bears not a Greek but a Hebrew character rooted in the Old Testament. He has even translated it into Hebrew and has examined the literary structure of its parts with the aid of Hebraic stylistic criteria. His conclusion is that the original Logos hymn — which he also presupposes — was incorporated unchanged, without additions, into the prologue. He also finds that the freer style of vss. 15ff. can be explained very well from the perspective of the whole composition, thus viewed. Of vss. 6-8, 15 (about the Baptist) he states that while in content they seem to be clearly secondary, literarily they nevertheless fit completely into the framework of the original composition and are certainly not the product of a redaction alien to the original hymn. He says, finally, that the style of the hymn and that of the Gospel are quite congruent, so that the typically Johannine features in the prologue need not be regarded as secondary additions to the hymn.18

That being the case, one wonders how necessary it is to assume the existence of an antecedent Logos hymn. One certainly need not do so on form-critical grounds. If the boundaries between poetry and prose (as in vss. 6-8, 15) are fluid in the prologue19 and if the transition between the hymnic beginning of the prologue and the later more kerygmatic or didactic pronouncements is by no means intrusive, then another conclusion seems much more obvious: In the prologue we are dealing not with a hymn adapted by the Evangelist but with a unit independently composed by him. In this connection he did not have before him a certain poetic model; rather, it was the content of what he intended to say to introduce his Gospel that was decisive, both for his composition as a whole and for the freedom of its poetic form.

This is not to deny either the special character of the prologue, particularly of its beginning, or that the remainder of the Gospel fails to reach the high level of harmonious form and poetic expression evident in some parts of the prologue. But from all this one can by no means conclude that the prologue must have its roots or setting in another religious context than the rest of the Gospel. Not only, as we have seen, do several central concepts and motifs of the prologue keep coming back in the Gospel, but in the sublime simplicity of language and expression that marks the entire Gospel one recognizes the hand of the author of the prologue. Some even believe that in the construction of the later discourses they can detect a structural similarity to that of the prologue.20

But even if this last point is farfetched, it can hardly be considered surprising that the Evangelist, when in order to explain the glory of the historical

Jesus he refers back in a truly splendid manner to the Word that was in the beginning, he also knows how to raise his characteristic style to a lofty poetic level that does not recur in those forms later in his Gospel. The prologue is an introduction to the history of Jesus Christ, and it should not be surprising that its purpose is a factor in determining its line of thought and form and thus serves as the natural explanation for the fluid boundaries between what have been distinguished as "poetic" and "prosaic," "hymnic" and "kerygmatic."

For that reason the criteria for the form of a hypothetical hymn — which is said to have had a totally different function and origin than that of an overture to a gospel story — can by definition not serve as standards by which to judge what is original and appropriate in the prologue and what is secondary and disruptive. Admittedly, by making that assertion we have not proven the unity of the prologue. As we look at the prologue in detail, we will have to examine more closely the objections raised against its unity (esp. with reference to vss. 6-8 and 15). But we have cleared the way for an examination of the unity and structure of the prologue on their own merits, that is, in the form in which it lies before us, without making it dependent on a Logos hymn that was supposedly distinct from the prologue in origin, genre, and function.

The immediate gain of this approach is that the structure of the prologue suggests itself naturally. As the introduction to and background of the portrayal of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God (cf. 20:31), the prologue speaks successively of:

•  "the Word in the beginning" (1:1-5)

• the coming of the Word as the light of the world (1:6-13), and

• the glory of the Word in the flesh (1:14-18).

1:1-5

"The Word in the Beginning"

1, 2 The words "In the beginning," with which the prologue begin, also form the beginning of the book of Genesis and hence of the entire Torah. From this earlier occurrence they derive a solemn, perhaps even sacred, sound. Furthermore, the words that follow in John, the pronouncements concerning the Word, echo what in Genesis 1 constitutes the foundation of God's revelation in the Old Testament and of Israelite religion: God's creation of heaven and earth. All that now follows in the Gospel has to be understood from the perspective of that "beginning" : It arises from that beginning, and that beginning is its deepest and most essential Sitz im Leben.

Some interpreters even believe that the opening lines of the prologue (vss. 1-5) can be explicated totally in light of Gn. l:lff. P. Borgen in particular21 has argued that the prologue — in total divergence from the way the hymn hypothesis pictures it — forms an inner and independent unity that in its totality can be characterized as an "exposition" of Gn. l:lff. "Thus Jn 1:1-5 is the basic exposition of Gn 1:1-5, while Jn l:6ff. elaborates upon terms and phrases from Jn 1:1-5." Borgen bases this view not only on the opening words of John 1 and Genesis 1 but also on the central terms "light" and "darkness" in Jn. 1:4, 5 (cf. Gn. 1:2-5). He also claims that the content of vs. 3 in the prologue is nothing other than a "midrashic" paraphrase of Gn. 1:1: God created "heaven and earth" (cf. vs. 10). Finally, the term "the Word" is probably, says Borgen, an interpretation of and substitution for the repeated "and God said" in Genesis 1, as in vs. 3 this divine speech hypostatizes itself into light ("and God said . . . and there was"), an identification present also in Jn. 1:10, where the "light" replaces the "Word." There is support in Jewish exegesis, says Borgen, for the existence of such an identification, namely in Philo, who in his interpretation of Gn. 1:1-3 "moves from the uttered word of God to the concept of Logos in an absolute sense," just as he sometimes attributes to the Logos quite personal features, similarly derived from the creation story, as "God's firstborn," "the beginning," "the Logos."22 This interpretation not only has the merit that it views the prologue as an independent unit, unmixed with a Logos hymn derived from some other source, but also that it shows that the relationship between the prologue and Gn. 1 : Iff. not only consists in the first words but continues verbally and materially with the terms "light" "darkness," and "life."

But it is another matter whether one can characterize the prologue (especially its beginning) as an "exposition" or midrash of Gn. 1:1-5. The purpose of Jn. 1:1-5 is not to provide a further exposition of Genesis 1 with an eye to the coming and work of Christ, by way of a "christological doctrine of creation," but rather the reverse: to give to the Christ-event the fundamental "setting" in which alone it can be understood. Therefore, John 1 does not, like Genesis 1, begin with the creation that came into being by the Word, nor does the hypostatization of the Word originate there (as, e.g., in Mt. 4:4), since before creation is even mentioned it is already said that the Word was with God and was God. In that sense one can say that the words "in the beginning" in John 1 have a broader meaning than they do in Genesis 1 and that they refer to something behind Genesis, so to speak. They refer to the Word and to the Word's existence with God "before the world was made" (cf. 17:5; 1 Jn. 1:2; 2:13) as a being distinct from God. Nor is the reference, as elsewhere, to a poetic personification or hypostatization of the mighty speech of God (cf. Pss. 33:6; 107:20; Is. 40:8; 55:11) but to a unique existence of the Word with God, an existence that is not coextensive with God's actual speech.

Of the character of this relationship to God no further details are given.23 The focus is entirely on the antecedent existence of the Word, that is, that it existed before all that is created, and on the Word's participation in the divine. This latter point is made in no uncertain terms by the emphatic positioning of the predicate noun: "And God was the Word." What we have here is not an exchange of subject, as if it were now being said of him who is called God in vs. lb that he was the Word. What is at stake is the distinction of the subject, and hence the Word's own participation in the divine life, which is why the idea of a subordination of the Word or a "divinity" as a qualification in the sense of an attribute abstracted from God is excluded.

2 It is this fundamentally dual content of the preceding sentence that is repeated with great emphasis in vs. 2: "He was in the beginning with God" — he of whom it has just been said that he was God — he, no one else and no one less. It is stated so emphatically because "he" is also the great subject of all that follows and hence from the very start determines the Evangelist's discourse: the Word who has become flesh and dwelled among us. The thrice-repeated "he was" (vss. 1, 2) points in the same direction. Not, of course, that the content of these pronouncements about "the Word" is thus restricted to the past as something that once "was" and is no longer so. But from the viewpoint of the speaker (the Evangelist), that which was from the beginning is thus related to that which continued in the coming and the work of Jesus Christ in time and still continues, and is placed in the light in which alone it can be understood in its true nature.

This also implies, meanwhile, that the "in the beginning" of Jn. l:lff. transcends by far that of Gn. 1 : Iff. and cannot be explained on the basis of Genesis 1. For between Genesis 1 and John 1 lies the Christ-event, and therein lies the "plus" (if one may call it that) of John over Genesis. Though the "score" of the prologue may be that of Genesis 1, the content is that of the gospel. Only the glory of the incarnate Word can enable us to understand the full thrust of God's speech in the beginning and can teach us to distinguish between God and the Word, between the Father and the Son (1:18).

For that reason one can say that the pronouncements concerning the Word "in the beginning" and those concerning the incarnation of the Word mutually condition and explicate each other. On the one hand, this referring back of the glory of God that appeared in the human existence of Jesus to that which was in the beginning makes it clear that the gospel in no way exceeds the boundaries of the monotheistic revelation of God of which Genesis 1 is the foundation. It has been said that one cannot understand from the Old Testament the fact that the prologue does not speak of "the Word of God" but refers, absolutely, to "the Word," and therefore that the proper name or title "the Word" is presupposed here, that is, as a name familiar from and borrowed from another source.24 But that is to fail to do justice to the strong rootedness of the prologue in Genesis 1. This backward look to Genesis 1 is proof that the Evangelist did not wish to subsume the glory of Christ under some other heading and explain it in that other way. Instead, he sought to identify the presence of God in the advent and work of Jesus of Nazareth, on the basis of the Old Testament, as the presence of that God who from "the beginning" showed himself to be, not a self-sufficient, immutable, and silent God, but the God who "extended" himself and spoke: "Let there be light in the darkness." Of that beginning the "in the beginning" of the prologue is the continuation, and in that "beginning" it also has its most fundamental basis.

On the other hand, it is no less true that it is only on the basis of the incarnation of the Word and the revelation of the glory of the only begotten of the Father (vss. 14, 18) that the Evangelist can speak of the Word in the beginning as in fact he does in vss. Iff., namely as the Word in his distinct mode of being.25 It is the "seeing" of the glory of the Word in the flesh, the self-disclosure of Jesus in his words and works and in his utterly unique relationship of oneness with the Father, that enables the Evangelist to speak of Jesus as he does — not only of "that which" (1 Jn. 1:1) but also of "he who" was from the beginning. But that correlation between vss. 1-2 and vs. 14 also shows that there was no other way to speak about the Word of the beginning than with a view to the incarnation — to that which he was for and in the world. There is here no speculation about the Word that would betray the presence of an already existing Logos theology. All that is said about the Word as such is that it was in the beginning, that it was with God, and that it was God. It is hardly conceivable that a deeper issue could have been expressed with greater simplicity and in fewer words.

There could be no greater sobriety or more rigorous regard for the purpose that the Evangelist set himself in this reference to the beginning than he practices in the splendid and lapidary statement in vs. 2, a statement that serves no other end than to reinforce the preceding statement. The Evangelist cannot say a single word about either the concept of the Word or the glory of the Word, which was "before the world was made" (17:5; cf. 17:24), apart from the incarnation. The light that shines from "the beginning" and bathes the entire gospel in the radiance of the divine glory does not come in from a "side window" but teaches us to understand the end in terms of the beginning, just as the beginning can only be understood in terms of the end. "No one has ever seen God. The only begotten Son, who was in the Father's bosom, has made him known." It is on the basis of this correlation that the splendid opening utterances of the prologue become intelligible in their redemptive-historical place and meaning — in the light of which also the rest of the prologue and the gospel story that follows should be understood and interpreted.

The History of Religions Approach

In contrast to the above, some exegetes have, in very different ways, looked for the background of the prologue in broad layers of Hellenistic syncretism. In this connection the "history of religions method" plays an important role. Within this method an effort is made to determine the "the locus of this hymn in the history of religions" as a "new task" confronting modern research.26 It appears that Genesis 1, as also (according to the majority of the proponents of this method) the entire Old Testament, fails to provide an adequate explanation of this "locus," since personifying the speech of God (Gn. 1:3, 6f.) into a "person standing alongside God" (as with the Logos of Jn. 1:1) remained an alien idea for Jews.27 Therefore, one who follows this method will have to look elsewhere in the history of religions for the background of this "hypostasis."28

There is all the more reason for this because both in Greek philosophical literature and in the literature of later Hellenistic syncretism the figure of a Logos as a metaphysical entity makes its appearance in a variety of ways. In philosophical literature (e.g., in Stoic writings) the Logos plays a large role as the essence of the divine world order and the principle that creates the world. Around the beginning of the first century Philo of Alexandria in particular, the most representative figure of Hellenistic Judaism, used the Logos concept to a great extent in his religious-philosophical writings. He fused various Old Testament influences, Judaism, and the popular Greek philosophy of his day, which incorporated both Stoic and Platonic elements. The Logos concept also functions in his work, particularly in his creation theology, as a divinely created intermediate being between God and the world, as a mediating principle in the creation of the world, and as the source of the meaning of the world and of humanity. Similar concepts occur in the equally syncretistic Hermetic literature, which was written in Greek in Egypt.29

It is against the background of such syncretistic religiosity that the prologue of the Fourth Gospel is to be understood, we are told. The author is said to have addressed himself not so much to Christians who needed a deeper theology as to non-Christians who in their desire to gain access to eternal life were said to be prepared to follow the Christian way if it were presented in terms intelligible to them and related to their own religious interests. Hence the beginning of the prologue. "It is clear that a reader who knew nothing at all about Christianity or its Founder could read that exordium intelligently, provided that the term 'logos,' and the idea of a 'man sent from God,' meant something to him. But these are ideas that are in no way distinctive of Christianity."30

It is certainly true that, with the advance in the comparative study of the pagan, Jewish, and Christian literature of the Hellenistic period, including the more recently discovered writings of the Qumran community and of Nag Hammadi, scholars have increasingly encountered commonality in the usage of religious language, speculative concepts, nomenclature, and the like. Particularly important for our purpose is the insight that the boundaries that existed in this respect between certain movements in later Judaism and syncretistic Hellenistic religiosity were much more fluid than scholars often thought. That there was reciprocal influence and that in this process Judaism was not only the receiving, but no less the contributing, party has been demonstrated in all sorts of ways.31

But what comes through no less clearly as the research advances is that precisely because of the commonality of similar usage one has to be extremely cautious before assuming direct connections of dependence and mutual influence. And this applies specifically to the Fourth Gospel, which, when it refers in the prologue to the Logos, the Son, the only begotten, though it certainly does not employ exclusively biblical terminology, is nevertheless far removed in content from the abstract idea of the Logos that pagan and syncretistic philosophy postulated as it considered the origin of the world and its (Logos-mediated) relationship to God. For how could such an idea, even though it is at times personified, be the background for the concrete person and work of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, as he is depicted in the Fourth Gospel?

In more recent research, not surprisingly, this history of religions field of exploration has been left behind, and the focus has shifted to what is called the Gnostic "redeemer myth." The advantage of this approach is especially said to be that in this myth the Logos does not just possess the abstract function of an idea or hypostatized principle that bridges the chasm between God and the world but assumes the concrete form of a revealer descending from heaven who at the same time is said to be a redeemer.

It was Bultmann who, from 1925 on, sought to understand the Gospel of John against this particular history of religions background and who for a long time found a large measure of support for his view, especially in Germany.32 In his view, the origin of this myth is no longer discoverable and its wide dissemination is hard to unravel on account of its entwinement with all sorts of mythological and philosophical motifs. Nonetheless, it occurs, he says, in John's prologue — in a form stamped by the cosmological thinking of Gnosticism.

In Gnosticism, God and cosmos are dualistically related to each other insofar as human souls, which originated in the supracosmic sphere and belong there, have become trapped in the material world as scattered sparks of light and must be liberated and gathered up from it. To that end the figure of the Logos, usually called Nous, descends from above. In him souls find their original unity. Apart from this cosmological function, however, the Logos also has a soteriological task as the divinely sent redeemer to gather the souls belonging to God and to bring them back to their heavenly home. Therefore, he disguises himself in a human body in order to deceive the demonic powers of darkness and thus descends. This — in the judgment of Bultmann and others — original Gnostic myth of the redeemer sent from heaven and disguised as a human being is said to have been taken over at an early stage by Christians and made fruitful for christology. Thus it is said to form the background of the Johannine prologue.33

For a long time this approach determined the options in discussion of the background of the Fourth Gospel. Some scholars believed that they could, with increasing self-assurance and elaborateness, demonstrate that this Gnostic "redeemer myth" is the starting point of Johannine christology. But skepticism about the existence of such a developed myth came to be on the rise.34 As a result the correctness of this entire approach was increasingly discredited.

Admittedly, some new life was breathed into this rigid and polarized discussion by the discovery at Nag Hammadi of certain Gnostic writings. Of special interest for our subject in this collection is a revelatory discourse known as the Trimorphic Protennoia. In this document the Protennoia reveals itself in the first person as "the thought," "the voice," and "the word."35 Especially with regard to "the word" there are statements that in diction and content are strongly reminiscent of John's prologue and that are regarded by some scholars as clear confirmation of the prologue's dependence on the Gnostic redeemer concept.36 Others explain these statements with no less cogency as proving dependence in the opposite direction.37

It has thus become evident that there must have been connections between John's prologue and certain Gnostic or gnosticizing writings of the early Christian centuries. But it is doubtful that anything more can be established from this material than that the Gospel of John, notably in its reference to the Word in the beginning and its sharp antithesis between Spirit and flesh, above and below, and light and darkness contained more points of contact with Gnostic thought than, say, any of the other Gospels and for that reason gained a certain reputation (and popularity?) in the circles that produced such writings.

Still, the objections that have regularly been advanced against the dependence of the Fourth Gospel on the so-called Gnostic redeemer myth have lost none of their validity. They can briefly be summarized as follows: First, the sources from which information about this myth has to be derived are of a later — in part much later — date than the Gospel of John. Hence these written sources could not have been utilized in the Gospel of John.

Second, even if we can assume that Gnosticism (which used to be understood mainly as a group of Christian heresies whose existence had to be deduced from the writings of the church fathers) was in vogue as a spiritual movement of a very specific character already in pre-Christian times, solid evidence that in this pre-Christian period the myth of the redeemed redeemer played anything like a typical role is far from present.38

Third and most decisive, the contexts in which Gnosticism and John's prologue speak of redemption do not coincide but rather exclude each other. In Gnosticism God and world are dualistic opposites. In the Johannine prologue all things — the "heaven and earth" of Gn. 1:1 — have been made by the Word that was with God and that was God. Jn. 1:14, 18 mentions the only begotten who made the Father known to us, and the reason for this mission of revelation is later found in the love with which God, in him, "loved the world" (3:16). Bultmann describes this difference as "a development" of Gnosticism "under the influence of the O.T. faith in the Creator-God." The mythology was pushed into the background, Gnostic cosmology had to "give way to the belief in Creation," and "the soteriological concern" became "dominant." But even this grand reduction does not solve the problem, for in what is called "the soteriological concern" we face the same enormous gap. It is true that in both the prologue and Gnosticism the light comes into the world to shine on the darkness, and also that in the Fourth Gospel the word "world" is used to express the break between God and humanity. But in John human souls are not, as in Gnosticism, imprisoned as préexistent particles of light in the darkness, and their salvation does not consist in their acknowledgment of their divine origin in the redeemer who comes to them and in their being led by him out of this prison of flesh and world. None of this can be related in any way to the redemption from the religious and moral estrangement of humanity from God that the Gospel identifies as the basic human problem or to faith in the saving love of God as the way of salvation (3:16), in which people escape from the judgment and wrath of God (3:18, 36). And none of it is compatible with what has been called the most pithy utterance of the prologue, namely that the Word became flesh. Here the descent of the Redeemer acquires a meaning that fundamentally distinguishes it from all pre-Christian notions of descent but most of all from the Gnostic world of thought. If one would want to posit a connection from the prologue to Gnostic speculation, it could only be as its antithesis.39

On the basis of all this it is hard to believe that "absolute" or "hypostatic" discourse about the Logos, which distinguishes John 1 from Genesis 1, should be explained on the basis of a Gnostic background.40 For that reason it is not at all strange that an increasing number of scholars have become convinced of the untenability of this hypothesis and are inclined — to the extent that this is necessary — to look for such a background "closer to home," that is, in the Old Testament.41

The Logos and "Wisdom"

In the interest of shedding further light on the Logos figure in John 1 there has been fresh emphasis in recent exegesis on the Old Testament and Jewish wisdom poetry, in which Wisdom is celebrated in its involvement in creation and its world-embracing significance. At the high points in this wisdom literature Wisdom appears in a personified form, either, as in Proverbs 8 and Sirach 24, in the first person or, as in Job 28 and Wisdom of Solomon 7, in the third person. One of these high points occurs in Pr. 8:22ff., where Wisdom is introduced as saying:

The LORD created me at the beginning of his work,

the first of his acts of long ago.

Ages ago I was set up,

at the first, before the beginning of the earth.

Before the mountains had been shaped,

before the hills, I was brought forth —

when he had not yet made earth and fields,

or the world's first bits of soil.

When he established the heavens, I was there. . . . (NRSV)

Another is Wis. 9:9, where God is addressed: "With you is wisdom, she who knows your works and was present when you made the world" (NRSV). Admittedly, it is nowhere said that Wisdom is God, nor in so many words that all things were made by Wisdom.42 But the degree to which the attribute "divine" is applicable comes out in statements like Wis. 7:25f., where Wisdom is called "a breath of the power of God," "a pure emanation of the glory of the Almighty," "a reflection of eternal light," "a spotless mirror of the working of God," and "an image of his goodness."

In addition to these transcendent qualities of Wisdom some interpreters also place special emphasis on the several phases that Wisdom is said to have passed through in the course of its existence. This, then, is again said to be strikingly analagous to what in the "Logos hymn" (see above) is supposed to have been said about the fortunes of the Logos. Appeal is made particularly to Sir. 24:3-7, where it is said that Wisdom "came forth" from God's mouth and then inhabited heaven, after that seeking a lodging place on earth. "Then the Creator of all things gave me a command, and my Creator chose the place for my tent. He said, 'Make your dwelling in Jacob and in Israel receive your inheritance' " (vs. 8, NRSV). This is said to have happened because nowhere else in the world was Wisdom given a place to live. This is not stated in so many words in this passage (and vs. 6 may state the contrary), but grounds for the world's negative attitude toward Wisdom are clearly found in 1 Enoch 42: If., where it is stated that Wisdom returned to heaven because it found no dwelling place among humans.

On the basis of these — thus combined — passages picturing Wisdom as a transcendent person, scholars occasionally speak of the "Wisdom myth,"43 with which, according to some, the Johannine prologue (in its original form as a "Logos hymn")44 is linked. For a long time, it has been said, the "disruptive insertion" in vss. 6-845 prevented interpreters from understanding that in the prologue, too, namely in vss. 9-12, there is a similar reference to the Logos's futile attempts, after the creation of the world, to gain a foothold among humans, as in the Wisdom myth. Thus the Wisdom myth was adopted in the first half of the prologue.46 But there is this all-important difference: In the old Wisdom myth, Wisdom returns in desperation to heaven to resume its place among the angels, but the paean of praise sung by the Christian church was able to proclaim a different turn of events: The Logos "became flesh" and as a human being found a welcome among his people.47 Hence the prologue is neither a vade mecum for Hellenistic readers nor a summary of the gospel; rather, it describes the history of redemption from its beginning in eternity and its progress in time before the incarnation in order to come to the climax of this development in vs. 14: the incarnation itself. In this way, the story of Jesus' words and deeds can then begin in vs. 19 as the historic sequel to that which is narrated in the prologue up to the coming of Jesus.

Regardless of what one might think of these "mythical" fortunes of Wisdom and their supposed adoption and elaboration in the "Logos hymn" (see below), this material does bring out that Wisdom, as it figures in the Old Testament and Jewish writings, in certain respects closely approximates the Logos in the Johannine prologue. At the very least we see here a common atmosphere of thought manifesting itself specifically in the fact that when the absolute significance either of Wisdom (and elsewhere, in connection with Wisdom, that of the Torah),48 or of God's revelation in Jesus Christ is featured, they are in both cases referred back to, or derived from, "the beginning," that is, from the God of the beginning, the One who created heaven and earth. Wisdom and Torah belong to that God and in that beginning, as does the Logos, and they belong there as that which is antecedent to the creation of all things and involved in creation by God's design. In this respect there is a fundamental difference between them and the Gnostic cosmogony, in which God and world are dualistically opposed to each other — a difference that can hardly be understood as a late Old Testament interpretation or a repression of the original Gnostic conception, but rather demonstrates the different origins of the two systems of thought.49

Another matter is whether on the basis of all this one can find in these wisdom texts the tradition-historical "source" of the prologue.50 Whereas the reference to Genesis 1 is very deliberate, given the opening words "in the beginning" and the mention of light and darkness in vss. 4a and 5, any such reference to wisdom is lacking, not only here but in the Gospel as a whole. Nor is this surprising because, despite the analogy between "the Word" and "Wisdom," there remains an essential difference between them. In whatever noble and highly poetic language Wisdom may be celebrated, as in Wis. 7:25 (quoted above), Wisdom belongs, in distinction from "the Word" of John 1, to the created world. It was "created," "set up," and "brought forth" (cf. Pr. 8:22f.; Sir. 24:9). This sets a line of demarcation between the figure of Wisdom in the wisdom texts and the Logos in John 1, one that cannot be blurred, for example, by insisting that the reference to the Logos as God in Jn. 1:1 and the role as creator associated with it have their roots in, and indeed are "fully intelligible" in light of, Pr. 8:22f. and Sir. 24: If.51 The emphasis in Jn. 1:1 on the deity of the Logos and the role that he fulfills in creation is, in fact, intended to accentuate the line of demarcation that separates the Logos from that which has been created.

The same is true of hypostatizing personal references to Wisdom in its préexistence with God. Some of these references are very concrete: "I was beside him like a master worker; and I was daily his delight, rejoicing before him always, rejoicing in his inhabited world ..." (Pr. 8:30f., NRSV). In this connection special reference is made to Job 28:20ff., where Wisdom is presented as hidden from the eyes of all creatures but "seen" by God when he created the world:52 "He saw it, declared it, . . . and searched it out" (vs. 27) as an entity independent of himself but objectively present to him.53

But in my opinion all these personifications of Wisdom have a poetic character that can in no way be equated with the mode of existence of the Logos in John 1. Nor can they be called "mythical" in the sense of a story about God. When in Job 28 Wisdom is mentioned in a more or less hypostatizing sense, that is just as poetic as when in the same connection destruction and death are personified (vs. 22) and when it is said that wisdom is concealed even from the birds of the air (vs. 21). Also, passages like Pr. 8:30f. can hardly be characterized as anything other than poetic. The extent to which all this differs from the core pronouncements of Jn. 1 : If., which by saying "He was in the beginning with God" excludes all doubt about the utter uniqueness of the existence of the Logos, needs no demonstration. For that reason it can hardly be surprising that, whatever in John 1 may be reminiscent of the wisdom texts, there is not the slightest indication that the Evangelist would want what he has to say about the Logos understood in light of the figure of Wisdom.

The same applies to an even greater degree against the hypothesis that John 1 adopts the supposed myth of Wisdom's vain search for a dwelling place and provides it with a Christian meaning and outcome.54 However ingenious such a construction may be, it consists, on closer scrutiny, of not just one but a series of unproven assumptions. After all, how can one possibly link together wisdom passages from very different periods, and in part of very different literary categories (cf. Pr. 8:31 and Wis. 24:6), in order to make up one mythological "story," especially when the essential point of this myth (wisdom's failure to find a dwelling place among the nations) stems not from the wisdom literature itself but from the much later apocalyptic book of 1 Enoch?55 And we are told it is precisely that form of the "myth" that was incorporated into the prologue and given its Christian meaning, not to be sure in the prologue as we now have it, but still visible as the intent of the underlying Logos hymn when it was not as yet "corrupted" by vss. 6-8. Indeed, there are as many gaps as links in this chain!

In summary, the following conclusions seem justified:

First, the "absolute" description of the Word that was with God and was God (1:1) is explained, at the deepest level, by the absoluteness of the historic self-disclosure of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. It is essentially nothing other than that which, at the close of the Gospel, brings the unbelieving Thomas to confess "my Lord and my God" as the ultimate human response in the confrontation with the glory of God in the coming, work, and, finally, the resurrection of Jesus Christ. In that sense, therefore, one can say that the first utterance of the prologue is not different from the last word of the gospel story. But the prologue places that glory where it belongs and in light of which alone it can be understood. And that place is not the great pantheon of gods and demigods of pagan mythology nor the conceptual teaching of philosophical cosmology in which the "crossings" of God to the cosmos were expressed, but — as the Evangelist himself says in so many words — the knowledge of that God of whom Israel had always known as the God of the beginning.

Second, the authors of Israel's wisdom books had this knowledge, and therein lies the reason that the similarity between John's prologue and these didactic wisdom poems is much deeper — and the result, after all, of a much closer kinship — than what we have from Hellenistic syncretism. Still, there remains a fundamental difference here. The "plus" of the "in the beginning" of John 1 over that of Genesis 1 cannot be explained by analogy from the pronouncements about wisdom. Nor can they serve as a link or intermediate stage for that explanation. For not even in the farthest reaches of the imagination with which they speak about wisdom can they cross the threshold that separates the beginning of the gospel from the Torah.

Third, one may ask whether and to what degree the absolute use of the name "the Word" with reference to the coming and work of Jesus Christ was already common property in the early Christian church. Some scholars believe that the manner in which the prologue posits the name "the Word" is itself an indication that the readers must have been familiar with it or at least did not need further explanation.56 In connection with this question, one often hears again about the supposed Logos hymn that is said to underlie the prologue. Even if one rejects that hypothesis, however, one can of course assume familiarity with the use of Logos as a name referring to the préexistence of Jesus as the Son of God among the members of that which is called the Johannine congregation or "school." On the other hand, there is no shred of proof that in the early church "the Word" already served as a title or name for the Son of God. The name Logos is not even used in those New Testament passages in which Christ's sonship is associated with the creation of all things (cf. 1 Co. 8:6; Col. 1:16f.; Hb. 1:2; Rv. 5:14). Our conclusion therefore can hardly be other than that the name, which is used in reference to Jesus' préexistence only in the opening lines of the Gospel and the first letter of John, has a unique, specific, and limited character that is conditioned by the rest of the Gospel, such that it can only be described as typically Johannine.

3 Vss. 3-5 form an immediate and natural sequel to vss. 1 and 2. "In the beginning" evokes the divine work of creation, when God called all things into being by his "word" (Gn. l:lf.). Here all this is credited to "the Word" in an absolute sense, not only to qualify the creation, but in particular because it is this Word that has become flesh in the advent and work of Jesus Christ. Because the Word existed in the beginning with God and was God, it was through him that all things were created. The emphatic position that "all things" has in vs. 3 and the addition that nothing is excepted from what has been made by the Word57 therefore intend to express — against all the speculations about the origin of the world that are in competition with this viewpoint — not only the absolute monotheistic idea of creation, but even more the all-embracing significance of the incarnation of the Word; in other words, the "christological" viewpoint presents itself here at the very outset.

The range of action of God-in-Christ at the creation coincides with the range of action of the Word in his incarnation. Therefore Christ is the light of the world (cf. 8:12) and by his coming into the world enlightens every person (1:9). The question arises whether in connection with the phrase "through him" anything more can be said about the relationship between "God" and "the Word." "Through" could imply mediation, and reference is made by some scholars to texts like 1 Co. 8:6; Col. 1:16; and Hb. 1:2, which are said to describe Christ as Mediator of creation. Whatever we think of these other passages,58 in my opinion vs. 3 does not permit any conclusions in this regard beyond that which is already stated in vs. 1, namely that the Word was God59 and that for that very reason the coming and incarnation of the Word has this all-embracing significance. With regard to the nature of the distinction within God's being and the distinct role of the Word in creation, the prologue makes no further pronouncement. Here again (cf. the exegesis of vs. 2) it is clear that the prologue does not furnish us a theology of the Logos but seeks to convey the revelation of God in Jesus Christ in its absolute and comprehensive significance.

The old question whether the words "that was made" belong to vs. 3 or to what follows in vs. 460 should in my opinion be settled in favor of the former. Others opt for the latter from considerations of rhythm. These words are also said to be superfluous in vs. 3. But to combine them with vs. 4 also leads to difficulties: Would the meaning be "in what was made, therein was life," "therein he was the life," or "in him there was life (for it)"? The first is very unattractive, because then the second clause does not say much more than the first and no longer speaks of the Logos as the source of life. The third does, but without the added phrase "for it" the sentence would hardly flow. The second translation would, then, have to be preferred, but it is by no means clear on first reading that the Logos is the subject of the sentence. Another possible translation would be "what has come about in him was life," which would have to be understood in reference to the incarnation of the Logos. That which "was made" then has to mean something like "what has appeared in him." This translation is commended by the fact that it brings out "the thoroughly Johannine emphasis on the historical advent of salvific life and light in the person of Jesus."61 Although I agree with this last point, it seems to me forced to interpret "what was made in him" (or "what has appeared in him") as a reference to the incarnation, in any case as the first announcement of it.

Nothing is more natural, however, than that the second "was made" should refer back to the beginning of vs. 3 and thus to that which was made62 by the Logos at the creation, and not to what appeared in him at the incarnation. In my opinion, the difficulties all resolve themselves if one takes "that was made" as the somewhat stately — and certainly not discordant — conclusion of vs. 3 and continues in vs. 4 with "in him (the Logos) was life." The concepts then follow each other in logical sequence: "was made," "life," "light," "shines." It may be true that from a viewpoint of rhythm there is more to be said in favor of connecting "that was made" with what follows in vs. 4. But anyone wanting to bring the first five verses of the prologue completely into logical order has to perform all sorts of surgical operations.63

Verse 4a now continues to speak of the Word as the source of life. The reference is not yet to life in its effect among people — that follows in vs. 4b — but to the Logos as the possessor and giver of life. Elsewhere this is conveyed by saying that the Father has life in himself and has granted the Son also to have life in himself (5:26). One can say that this is already implied in 1:3, but the life over which the Logos has control does not limit itself to the creation of all things but also extends itself in the power by which life is maintained, so that "life" has here its absolute meaning without further differentiation as to the forms in which it consists.

The past tense is consistently used (six times in vss. 1 -4), but this does not mean that the reference is to a state of affairs that is past. Rather, the tense is to be understood from the perspective of one who looks at the present in light of its origin, which is antecedent to all human experience.

Humans are first mentioned in vs. 4b,64 which says what the life that was in the Word meant for them: light. Everything is still totally qualitative: life in its absolute meaning, light as the gift that makes human life possible, and humans as such in their dependence on the light and without reference to place or time. The text does not explicitly refer to humanity before the fall, nor, I believe, is that meant.65 We are dealing with neither the reception of the light nor who will and will not have a share in the light of life, but with the light that people need to live, whether they know it or not (cf. 8:12). Nor, for the same reason, are we to assume that in vs. 4 we are reading about the period between the creation and the incarnation and that this is one reason for the use of the past tense ("he was").66 Of course one can ask whether the statement that the life was the light of humanity does not also apply to those who lived before the incarnation. This question must certainly not be answered in the negative. But the statement is too general to apply to one specific period in history. With both "the light" and the people that are spoken of, we are dealing with qualitative terms, not with something historical. This changes only in vs. 5.

5 This verse constitutes a further step in the development of the argument by speaking of the light in its actual effect, the source of illumination in its illuminating radiance. But what is the significance of the step made here? Are we dealing with:

• as before, a general qualification of the effect of the light, namely that it shines in the darkness and has never been apprehended by the darkness,

• a certain period in the revelation of the light, namely the period between the creation and the incarnation, which is then described further in vss. 9ff„

• or a description in general terms of the situation that arose with the coming of Christ, that is, the situation on which the Evangelist and the community he addresses look back and in which they still find themselves?

Of these three possibilities, the second is improbable if not impossible. It clashes with vs. 7, where the reference is to the light attested by John and hence the light that came in Christ, so that then it becomes necessary to eliminate vss. 6-8 from the context. Further, there is mention here of "the darkness" without any mention (after vs. 4) of the fall, which in the theory of the "phases" or "periods" is inexplicable. And the strongest argument against this view is that present tense "shines" can hardly relate to a closed period in the past.67

There is then more to be said for the first view, namely that the verse is a timeless statement about the light. As a rule the second clause in the verse is then translated as "and the darkness has not overcome/extinguished it [i.e., the light, as the light of the Word, which was God]."68 The greatest objection to this, however, is that the second clause of vs. 5 clearly corresponds to vss. 10b and lib, which refer to the rejection of the Word as it appeared in Jesus Christ.

For that reason the present tense "the light shines ..." is in all probability not a timeless statement but refers to the light that came when Christ entered the world and that now shines (cf. "the true light is already shining," 1 Jn. 2:8). Therefore, the second clause of vs. 5 must not be translated "the darkness has not vanquished it," but "the darkness has not understood it."69 Therefore, though the first view described above cannot be totally excluded, the third certainly deserves preference. "The darkness has not understood it" also provides the best connection with vs. 7, where "the light" is unmistakably used of the coming of Christ. The same is true of vs. 9, where, in view of what follows in vs. 12, there can again be doubt about this point.70

All this means, then, that what is said about the Logos in vss. 1-4 is directly applied to what one can call the great content of this Gospel, that is, to Christ's appearance as the light of the world in its confrontation with the darkness (cf. 8:12; 3:19f.; 9:5; 12:35, all passages in which the core concepts of 1:4, 5 return). For that reason it is not permissible to end the first cycle of ideas, the Word in the beginning and so on, at vs. 4.71 All the imperfect verbs in vss. 1-4 that describe the préexistence and essence of the Word that was antecedent to all existence and experience have their point and meaning in that they reveal the grand background of the actual situation of proclamation in which the Evangelist and the Christian community know themselves to be: "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not understood it." For no other purpose did the Evangelist begin his Gospel with the Logos. He did not do so in order to place the coming and work of Christ in the context of an already existing universal Logos theology, of which his words would be the crown. His purpose was, rather, to trace the gospel story to its final and deepest origins and so — taking up the conflict between what he will refer to over and over as darkness and lies versus truth and light — to point out at the outset the importance and range of what he is about to narrate and the grounds on which he will call people to believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God (20:31).

1:6-13

The Coming of the Word as the Light of the World

Now begins a new cycle of thought that in a variety of ways elaborates what was said in vss. 1-5. In vs. 14 the third and last segment of the three-part cycle begins, and at the end (vs. 18) everything returns to the beginning.72

Verses 6 and 7 link up with the statement in vs. 5 by reporting on the ministry of John the Baptist, the man sent by God as a witness to the light mentioned in vs. 5. Here and in vs. 15 scholars have repeatedly found what they regard as conclusive evidence that the prologue is not an original unity. These intermezzi about John the Baptist are said to interrupt both the rhythm and the thought pattern of the Logos hymn. But as stated earlier, one cannot use rhythm and meter as criteria for the original hymn without getting stuck, and that for a number of reasons. The material about John is, it is true, more "prosaic" than the lofty opening lines about the Logos in vss. 1-5. But vss. 6-8 are by no means incongruous. They have been composed in a solemn, stately style on an Old Testament model (cf. Jg. 13:2; 17:1 ; 1 Sa. 1:1).73 One can even arrange them in three parallel "couplets."74

In various ways some interpreters have forcefully maintained (against the long-dominant opinion) that these verses do not disturb the thought pattern of the prologue but rather constitute an essential contribution to it.75 These pronouncements about John are picked up again later and elaborated in vss. 19ff. and 29ff., where the real gospel story begins. Although the prologue reaches past the "beginning" of the gospel (cf. Mk. 1:1; Ac. 10:37; 13:23; 1:22) to the "in the beginning" of Gn. 1:1, this does not mean that the salvation-historical role of John the Baptist as the herald of the coming One became of less importance to the Evangelist. On the contrary, the Fourth Gospel describes and identifies the purpose of John's mission and baptism (cf. 1:31), in a way different from that of the Synoptics, as that of a witness (1:7, 8, 15, 19 [cf. vs. 20], 32, 34; 3:26; 5:33). Therefore, the prologue's references to this witness are not distracting, "puzzling," "abrupt," or even "coarse" interruptions76 but rather highly appropriate appeals to the witness of a man whose appearance and ministry belong integrally to the Christ-event.

One may add that these references to John's witness come at two strategic points in the prologue: first, after the thematic beginning in vss. 1-5, before it is further elaborated in vss. 9-13, and then after the pronouncements in vs. 14 about the revelation of the glory of God in the incarnation of the Word, before those pronouncements are explicated in vss. 16-18.77 In both cases we are dealing with John's identifying witness concerning Jesus, first in regard to Jesus' unique significance as the light of the world, then in regard to Jesus' antecedent transcendent glory. The references to John thus do not break the thought pattern of the prologue but precisely reinforce what one may call its central content.

The unity of the prologue is particularly evident in that vs. 7 alludes to what has already been said in vs. 5 about the importance of the coming of the light. In the confrontation between the light and the darkness John is the great witness, a concept that here, and in general, has a forensic meaning. John appears as the divinely appointed spokesman on behalf of the light to put the darkness in the wrong. But at the same time that witness is also — and this, too, is divinely intended — one who recruits for the light (cf. 3:16). The purpose of his coming and mission is that through him all should come to believe (cf. also 5:33ff.). Here for the first time faith is referred to: The appearance of the light does not automatically bring with it acknowledgment and acceptance, though one might perhaps expect this. It is a light to which people may be blind (cf. 9:5, 39) and from whose illumination one can shield oneself because one prefers the darkness (cf. 3:19ff.). All that will come up at length later, but here already it is clear that the coming of the light demands a choice: People must want to leave behind the darkness in which they have been enclosed and imprisoned and "come to the light" (3:21; 8:12).

8 Before this line of thought is continued in vss. 9ff., vs. 8 first adds that John himself was not the light. This emphasis on John's subordination to the coming of the light returns in John's own words (vss. 15, 20f.; 3:28f.). Some scholars think that this emphasis is a polemic against a sect that considered John the Messiah. This is also said to be the explanation for the supposed insertion of vss. 6-8 into the prologue.78 Regardless of whether such a tendency is at all present in the Fourth Gospel,79 interpretation of vs. 8 does not make this hypothesis necessary. The thrust of vss. 6-8 is very positive with regard to John. That he himself was not the light does not diminish him in any way but rather serves to mark his unique place in salvation history as the one who pointed to the coming of the light but preceded the hour of fulfillment (cf. Mt. 11:11, 12).

9-13 After this first "Johannine intermezzo," vss. 9-13 return to the central opening theme, which was provisionally rounded off at vs. 5. One can perhaps speak of a second concentric cycle of thought, in which the categories of the first come back, but this time — after what has been said about John as witness — in their kerygmatic implications.

Verse 9 begins by saying that the light mentioned in vs. 5, to which John was the witness, was the true light that by its coming into the world enlightens every person.80 "True" means genuine, that which is in fact what it claims to be, hence implying a contrast with what is falsely described or offered as the light. Here it also has a clearly exclusive meaning, referring as it does to the "uniqueness" of Jesus.81

Because of that uniqueness, it is also true of this light that it "enlightens every person" (cf. vs. 4b). This statement describes the light in its fullness and universality. It does not say that every individual is in fact enlightened by the light (cf. vss. 5, 10f.) but that by its coming into the world the light is for every human being that by which alone he or she can live (cf. 8:12). The light's "coming" is not of course just the moment of its arrival but the proximity and accessibility that result from that coming and by which every human being has come within reach of the light. The reference is to the coming of the Logos into flesh, even though this modality of its coming is not mentioned until vs. 14. In view here is only the coming as such.

Verse10 again speaks (cf. vs. 5b) of the negative reaction of the world to the coming of the light. In order to bring out that contrast fully and vividly vs. lOa-b summarizes what has been said before. Though linked paratactically, these pronouncements essentially have a concessive meaning in relation to the last clause of the verse: "Although he. . . ." The "and" that introduces the third clause clearly (as in vs. 11) has an adversative meaning: "and yet, but."

At this point the subject is no longer just the light but the Logos as well. Everything that has been said about the Logos to this point is cast into the scales against everything else to bring out the mysterious negative character of the world's "not knowing." Clearer proof that in the prologue and in the entire Gospel we are not dealing with a dualistic Gnostic world of thought is hardly possible.82 The world to which the Logos came was his own creation. The world did not know him, not because he was a stranger but because it was estranged from him, from its origin. The world should have known him. The inner contradiction of this not knowing is not explained. The opposition simply posits itself in all its mysteriousness. It is not said that the world could have known him if only it had followed the clues provided by its own deepest being as created by him and its own deepest need of the light — of that which was made by him for it. All this is true, of course, but there is no mention here of an unsatisfied dormant sense or preunderstanding that needed only to be activated in order to acknowledge him. What is needed to bring about the suspension of this estrangement, the miracle of a new creation, will be named (cf. 1:13; 3:3ff.).

Connected with all this, finally, is that the term "world" is not unambiguous either here or elsewhere in the Gospel. As the world that came into being by the power of the Word it is the whole of creation (vs. 3), specifically the human world (vs. 10), that which belongs to God and alongside God, the object of God's love (cf. 3:16). At the same time, however, here and in several places in the Gospel "world" stands for the humanity that is estranged from and hostile to God — in that sense the world outside God. "Knowing" is not just intellectual but refers to total relatedness. It is rooted in a choice that embraces not only the intellect and not only the heart, but also the human will. Accordingly, not to know the Word is to reject a relationship with him (see also on 10:14).

Verse 11 has a similar thrust to vs. 10. The question is only whether "his own home" and "his own people" still refer to the world as that which came into being by the Word and hence as that which belongs to him — in the same sense as in vs. 10 — or to the special relationship between the Word and Israel as the people of God (cf. Ex. 19:5; Dt. 4:20). The choice is difficult because both make equally good sense.83 But if one thinks of Israel in vs. 11, then one gets two viewpoints in vss. 10 and 11, and a sort of climax: In Jesus Christ the Logos came not only to a world that had been made by him; he also came to a people adopted by God as his own possession. In the context of this "coming" of the Logos the Jewish people could hardly be left out of consideration. Throughout this Gospel there is reference to "the world," but that world manifests itself primarily in the confrontation between Jesus and Israel.

With this the negative reaction to the coming and work of the Logos, already referred to in vss. 5 and 10, the prologue has reached its low point. Those who from of old were called the people of God's possession (cf. Is. 43:21) did not receive him, that is, were unwilling to receive him as a welcome guest.84 Again this does not apply to the experience of the Logos before the incarnation, whereupon there would follow an "evangelic turn" in vs. 14.85 It is rather the actual historical situation that the Evangelist pictures to his readers, but he does it here against the all-determining background of the eternal Word. Therefore the rejection of the Word is the mysterious and culpable resistance of the creature against its creator, of humankind against its own redemption, and of the people of Israel against its God (cf. 8:54).

12 There is, however, another side to this, which is described in words that show that the transition to the revelation of Christ does not have to wait until vs. 14. After what we have heard of in vss. 5, 10, and 11 ("the darkness," "the world," "his own people"), "all who received him" are apparently those who went against the current, who broke with the general pattern by which the world thinks, lives, and acts. They are further described as those "who believed in his name" (see on vs. 7; cf. 20:31); that is, they accepted him for what he was and as he manifested himself.

Again the emphasis falls on what, in virtue of what he was from the beginning, he had to give them, namely the "power," that is, the right and the freedom "to become children of God." The ability to confer this right marks his exclusive relationship to God (cf. 3:35; 20:17) and his utterly unique position as the way to the Father (14:6). No one comes to the Father except through him, nor does anyone become a child of God except by the Son.86 In John, unlike elsewhere in the New Testament, believers are not called "sons" (υιοί) but exclusively "children (τέκνα) of God," while "son" is used only of Christ (cf. 11:52; 1 Jn. 3:1, 2, 10; 5:2).87

In John being a child is always rooted in a new birth "of God," "of the Spirit," or "from above" (cf. vs. 13; 3:3f.).88 It denotes a totally new mode of existence, one that belongs to the "eschatological" renewal of all things by God, which as "eternal life" has already been initiated by the work of Christ; elsewhere in the New Testament it is as such also often linked witb the future ("the revealing of the sons of God," Ro. 8:19; cf. Col 3:4 but also 1 Jn. 3:2). The privilege of being children of God is special and exclusive. It is not a natural quality that every human being has as a creature of God; nor is it the inalienable right of Israel as "his own" (cf. 8:42). It is, rather, the gift that is given only to those who believe in the Word.

Verse 13 concludes the train of thought begun in vs. 6. A reading occurs in some church fathers that continues in the singular: (qui) non natus est, which thus refers not to the rebirth of believers but to the virgin birth of Jesus. But this reading is hard to accept as original. Not only is the textual basis very weak, but a statement about the virgin birth of Jesus would not easily have been replaced by another about the rebirth of believers.89 Also, such a statement about the Logos not being born of blood and so on would be very surprising after vss. 1-5 and 9-11 and before vs. 14.90

Some interpreters forcefully reject any idea that the relative clause with which vs. 13 begins ("who were born ...") is a comment on the preceding clause ("who believed in his name")91 since then faith would proceed from regeneration whereas, according to their view, a person must opt for rebirth as a possibility opened up to him or her in the call that comes from the Revealer. In the choice that faith makes a person can be "bom again" and so change and come to his or her real being.92 However, against this it has to be asserted that the concluding statement in vs. 13 traces the entire gift of being a child of God, including the manner in which it is effected, to its deepest ground: "procreation" by God. The idea that faith as a human choice should precede that birth and therefore that in some sense a person should have this rebirth of God at his or her disposal not only seems absurd but is also at variance with statements like this in 1 Jn. 5:1: "Everyone who believes ... is born of God."93 By saying this one does not in any way detract from the call and invitation to believe so emphatically issued in John's Gospel, a call addressed to all without distinction (just as in 5:8 the lame man is asked to "rise"). The two-sidedness in the redemptive order consisting of God's gift and human responsibility, the secret of which the Fourth Gospel does not unravel,94 will force itself on our attention again and again in the Gospel.95

Three opposites to birth from God are named in vs. 13a. The plural of "blood" is hard to explain. One thinks of the blood of two parents as bearer of the life that propagates itself, or something of that nature. The most probable solution seems to be something more general: "whose birth is not a question of blood" or the like. The double "of the will of" refers to sexual desire, first in general terms then in regard to a man's initiative in fathering offspring. In all three the reference is to the natural process of procreation — that which lies within human power (cf. Gl. 4:23, 29).

"Flesh" here denotes humanity in itself in its creaturely human potentials and limitations (cf. 1:14); but in this context "the will" of the flesh and of a man do not carry the connotation of something inherently inferior.96 The "dualism" expressed in vs. 13 is not rooted in an anthropological opposition between the lower or the higher elements of a person or in a metaphysical contrast between a heavenly world and an evil world mired in matter. It is, rather, rooted in the distinction — characteristic also of Old Testament thought — between God as the all-controlling Spirit and the human person in his or her creaturely dependence (cf., e.g., Is. 31:5; Ps. 56:5).97

Therefore, the fact of being born of God does not cancel out the qualitative distinction between God and humanity. "Of God," "of the Spirit," "from above" qualifies the new life of the children of God as a participation, not in the divine being, but in God's imperishable gift. This gift does not lie within the range of possibilities granted a person in his or her natural birth. A person is entirely dependent for it on the Spirit of God (3:6f.), and all the more because the world made by God and the flesh in which he has given human beings their particular mode of existence have become the element in which, by human sin and self-will, people have alienated themselves from God and hence do not know and accept the light that comes to them in the Word.

It is this contrast that continues to shape vs. 13. That is, vs. 13 not only explains vs. 12 but also refers back to the negative statements in vss. 5, 10, and 11 to protect those statements from possible misunderstanding. The rejection of the Logos by the world and by his own people has been pointed out in its paradoxical and "unnatural" significance, but this does not mean that acceptance of the Word and faith in his name would be merely the obvious response to the revelation of the Word. In fact, the contrary is true because of what humanity has become in the world and in the flesh. Though human unbelief, viewed in the light of the creation of humanity by God, may be a riddle, faith is, in the light of human estrangement from God, a miracle, the fruit of new birth not from below but from above (cf. 3:3f.). However hard, accusatory, and humiliating the verdict against human unbelief may be, here and throughout the Gospel its intent is not to throw people back on themselves and to appeal to their "better" nature but to portray to them their radical lostness. But this is not done — and here lies the transition to the now following third cycle of the prologue — merely to place this dependence on God's grace in the context of the impotence and obstinacy of unbelief, but above all to illumine it from within the revelation of the Word in the beginning, the description of whose full glory is now about to begin.

1:14-18

"The Word Became Flesh"

14 This third and final cycle of the prologue is also the transition to the gospel story since here the figure of Jesus comes clearly to the fore, though he is not named until vs. 17. This further concretization of what so far has been credited to the Word — though from the very start the kerygmatic situation that came into being with the coming and work of Christ is aimed at — is first expressed in the statement "And the Word became flesh." Although the Word was repeatedly the subject in the preceding verses, after vs. 1 that name is mentioned expressly again only here. Whereas in what precedes all the emphasis lies on the divine presence of the Word as the light of the world, now the entire focus is on the self-identification of the Word with the man Jesus of Nazareth.

"Flesh" is not just the material side of human existence but, in the Old Testament sense, all of the human person in creaturely existence as distinct from God (cf., e.g., Ac. 2:17; Mt. 24:22; "flesh and blood" in Mt. 16:17). Also in view here is that which is human as such, apart from sin (which is sometimes referred to with "flesh," notably in Paul: Ro. 8:4, etc.). That the Word became flesh therefore does not implicitly mean that it also took upon itself the sin of the world. Although "flesh" as a term for the creaturely human in itself is also intended as a description of human weakness, perishability, dependence, and the like, one cannot say that the word is used here on account of the offense that the Logos, by appearing as a man and nothing more, occasions to the natural intellect — a notion strongly advocated by Bultmann.98 For however much the incarnation of the Word in the man Jesus of Nazareth is also the occasion for human unbelief (cf. 1:45; 6:42; 7:27, etc.), this does not alter the fact that in 1:14a, as in 14b, "flesh" is clearly not the means by which the glory of God is concealed in the man Jesus but the means by which it is revealed before the eyes of all. The flesh is the medium of the glory and makes it visible to all people. By means of incarnation God has visibly appeared among humankind. And — we may immediately add — the entire Gospel of John is proof of it: proof of that abundant glory, a glory manifested before the eyes of all.99

If then we cannot interpret vs. 14a in isolation from vs. 14b, we also cannot lose sight of the expression "the Word became flesh." The Word remains the subject of that which follows. It did not cease to be the Word that was from the beginning, and "became" does not mean "changed into." It denotes an identification. However unfathomable this identification may be, it does not mean only that the Logos — that is, God to the degree that he reveals himself — "appeared" in the human sphere and that the Revealer, the one in and by whom God reveals himself, was a man and nothing but a man. Nor does it thus declare superfluous all questions concerning the "how" of that "became."100 To "become flesh" is more than to "appear in the sphere of the flesh," that is, as Jesus of Nazareth. It is an identification that, though it is not further defined here or linked with the virgin birth, does mean that all the redemptive categories (the "life" and "the light of humanity") thus far attributed in the prologue to the Word now apply with the same absoluteness and exclusiveness to the man Jesus of Nazareth and, in his person as the possessor of that which belongs to God alone, completely transcend and exceed the possibilities of a mere man. One cannot (in "docetic" fashion) hide or even dissolve the reality of the flesh, the true humanity of Jesus, in the revelation of the glory of God any more than one can (in "kenotic" fashion) detach the glory of God from the humanity of the earthly Jesus. The Word did not become flesh by just assuming the form of the man Jesus as a garment in which God walked on earth or as an instrument that God used from time to time. Nor does "became flesh" only indicate the "place" or "sphere" where the revelation took place.101 At stake here is the Word's act of being united with the man Jesus such that in his self-revelation in words and deeds the glory of the Word of the beginning manifested itself, visibly and audibly (cf. 1 Jn. 1 : If.), and is interpreted by him as such with a recurrent appeal to his Sonship and his having been sent by the Father (cf., e.g., 5:19f., 26f.).102 Thus "became" refers to a mode of existence in which the deity of Christ can no more be abstracted from his humanity than the reverse.103

The words "and dwelled among us" further explicate the preceding words. One can take them to refer either to the beginning of the Word's residence among people or to the entire (past) period of that residence.104 The verb means "pitch one's tent" and is reminiscent of numerous Old Testament statements in which mention is made of God dwelling in the midst of Israel, the fundamental motif being the tabernacle in the wilderness in which God's presence in Israel and his glory were manifested (Ex. 25:8, 9; also, e.g., Ezk. 37:27; Jl. 3:17; Zc. 2:10; cf. also Rv. 21:3). In Sir. 24:8 Wisdom says, "The Creator of all things . . . assigned a place for my tent, saying 'Make your dwelling in Jacob ...,'" and to some this is a strong argument that the Johannine prologue is closely akin to wisdom literature.105 I regard as unproven the view that the structure of the prologue was borrowed from, for instance, Sirach 24,106 and there is no direct reference here to the tabernacle and temple as the place of God's dwelling in Israel107 (cf., however, also 2:19-22!). Nonetheless, "pitch one's tent" in this context nevertheless has a clear salvation-historical connotation, which is reinforced by the connection in the following clause with "glory." The effulgence of God's glory is an aspect of his indwelling among his people (cf. Ex. 40:34, 35; Nu. 14:10; 1 Κ. 8:10, 11; Pss. 26:8; 102;16; Jr. 17:12; Ezk. 10:4, etc.; Rv. 15:8; 21:10, 11, 22, 23). Therefore, use of "pitch one's tent" does not emphasize the transience of the manifestation of the Logos in the human sphere but rather the act of taking up residence and then staying.108

The newness of this indwelling consists, of course, in the incarnation of the Word. It distinguishes itself from the divine indwelling operative up to that point by its totally different form of proximity — as that of one who permits himself to be seen and to be a member of society (cf. vss. 38, 39), to live among people as one of them.

It says that he took up residence "among us" and refers to the "we" who beheld his glory, that is, neither people in general nor the "we" of the Christian church, but the "we" with whom Jesus lived and who were with him as his witnesses from the beginning (15:27). This "we" is distinguished from the inclusive "we" of the church (vs. 16) just as 1 Jn 1 : If., in a very similar context, distinguishes between the "we" who witnessed Jesus and the "you" of the church.109 In this connection "beheld,"110 more strongly than the word for merely "seeing," as is evident also from the climax in 1 Jn. 1:1, seems to point to the dramatic, spectacular, and totally absorbing nature of what is seen, which, after all, is the glory of God. Those who think the "we" means the church speak of "the sight of faith" that relates to the incarnation but is not restricted to eyewitnesses or contemporaries and can be transmitted to all future generations.111 But that is to remove the specific connection between the incarnation and this sight. At stake is the glory of God in the flesh, which could only be seen and "beheld" by those who were the eyewitnesses of that flesh. Many contemplators of that glory were not moved to believe and could therefore be described as spiritually "not seeing" (cf. 9:39-41), just as others believe in that glory without having seen it in the flesh (20:29). But this is no proof that the glory of the revelation was visible only to the eye of faith. The reverse is much rather the case. The revelation of Jesus' glory, not just the weakness of the flesh, occasions the hostile reaction of "the Jews" (cf. 9:16, 24f.; 11:47). The plea they sometimes base on his human origins and the like (6:42; 7:27) is nothing but an attempt to hide from the power of that glory.112

For that reason it is not the function of the eyewitness to convey to every generation anew the offense that is said to lie in the incarnation of the Word,113but conversely to witness to the glory as in all the concrete visibility and tangibility that it manifested in their presence ("among us"). This is not to imply that for the witnesses in view here faith in Jesus as the Son of God kept pace from the beginning with the revelation of his glory. Much would still have to be made clear to them, and the witness of those who had been with Jesus from the beginning would not have led to the correct understanding of what they had heard and seen without the co-witness of the Paraclete (14:26; 15:26). But the issue in vs. 14 is, again, not faith but the revelation that underlies the understanding of faith. And not just the revelation of glory, of Jesus as the exalted and glorified Lord, but of his glory in the flesh — of his earthly, human existence (see also above, pp. 2-3, 12-14).

The Greek word δόξα, "glory," is a translation of the Old Testament word kabōd and refers to a visible and powerful manifestation of God. Though the story of the transfiguration of Jesus offers various points of contact for this passage (cf. Lk. 9:32; 2 Pet. l:16ff.), the idea that the reference here is solely or especially to that story is not likely. The transfiguration does not occur in John's Gospel, and the point here is not a single sensational event but that glory that is attendant on the dwelling, just as in the Old Testament there is a persistent connection between God's presence in tabernacle and temple and the divine kabōd revealing itself there. Accordingly, here as well we must think of the continuous glory in the earthly life of Jesus, notably in his miracles (cf. 2:11; 11:40; 17:4; 1:51, etc.). "Glory as of the Father's only begotten" does not imply a comparison but is explanatory: "in keeping with his nature as."

"Only begotten" is used as a term for Jesus' relationship to God only in John. Elsewhere it is used of a parent's only child (e.g., Lk. 7:12; 8:42), but also as an indication of the value of a certain child with no indication of how many children the parent has (cf. Hb. 11:17). Here the reference is clearly to oneness not in number but in being, the utter uniqueness of the Sonship of Christ. There is a difference of opinion on whether this is all it means or whether the "generation" of the Son by the Father is also included, so that the meaning is unigenitus (only begotten) and not just unicus. In the ancient Latin version the latter is used, but the later Vulgate has the former, possibly under the influence of the Arian controversy. Whereas some scholars believe that what is at stake here is no more than a quality, the uniqueness of Jesus as the Son of God, and not what in trinitarian theology is called his "procession" from the Father,114 others advance strong arguments for the translation "only begotten" (and not just "only").115 Although we will not pursue the issue further here, a text like 1 Jn. 5:18 proves that there is every reason to assume that here, too, "only begotten" means more than simply "only," and this is all the more true because here (as in vs. 18) it is meant to be read against the background of 1: Iff. and the glory rooted in that background. Also the preposition "from" ("from the Father") may point in that direction.116

The concluding words of vs. 14, "full of grace and truth," further qualify him117 who has just been called the only begotten from the Father (cf. vs. 16: "and from his fullness"). "Grace" and "truth" are used together frequently in the Old Testament of God's relationship to humankind and speak first of all ("grace") of God's favor, benevolence, and mercy.118 In this combination grace is the supporting concept; in vs. 16 it therefore stands alone. The second term, "truth," adds to the first (in the traditional combination and therefore surely here also)119 the element of trustworthiness, faithfulness, and unwaveringness and thus characterizes God's graciousness as a relationship in which he binds himself to his own and to which they can unconditionally entrust themselves.120

It is the fullness of that "grace and truth" that marks the revelation of glory in the incarnate Word. That revelation not only creates distance and radiates authority but is also powered by God's love for the world (3:16) and consists above all in the descent of the one who has power (3:13)121 and his self-surrender for the life of the world (6:51) and for the sheep of his flock (10:1 Iff.); it is a "grace" that at the same time proves its "truth" and reliability by the fact that he loved to the end his own who were in the world (13:1) and that of those whom the Father gave him not one will be lost, but he gives them eternal life and no one will snatch them out of his hand (10:28, 29).

It is also clear from these last words of vs. 14 that, however much in the prologue and throughout the Gospel everything is focused on the glory of Christ as the Son of God, the soteriological significance of his coming is not thereby pushed into the background. Rather, it is the high glory of God's nearness "in the flesh" that determines the fullness of the grace and truth revealed in Christ (cf. 3:1-17). In vss. 16-18 these last words of vs. 14 are explicated further.

When we come to them there we will have to consider to what degree this qualification of the glory of the only begotten from the Father has its background in the story of the theophany at Sinai in Exodus 33 and 34.

15 First, however, comes the second reference to the "witness" of John,122 this time in relation to the glory of the one coming after him. The Evangelist cites here a testimony — described more exactly as a proclamation ("cried")123 that recurs more precisely localized in vss. 29ff. and also refers back ("of whom I said") to what John had told the Jews earlier (though it is recounted later, in vss. 23ff.). The manner in which John testified of the glory of "the coming one" is characteristic for his role as a forerunner, one who can speak of the coming one only in veiled and, in a sense, paradoxical language: "He who comes after me ranks before me, for he was before me." The translation is difficult because the temporal and the spatial are involved in a play on words.124 But the intent is clear: "He who comes after me (i.e., whose forerunner I am) has left me behind," obviously in the metaphorical sense of "has surpassed me in importance, has put me in the shadows." "For" — and this in view of the first clause is the paradoxical part — "he was before me." This explains the superiority of him who came after John (elsewhere, too, chronological priority is considered proof of superiority, e.g., 1 Tm. 2:13).125 What John had in mind with "before me" remains unclear ("mightier than I" in Mark and Matthew), but in the context of his witness it is limited to a general reference to the superiority of the coming one: "He was the point of it all" (see the comments below on vs. 30). In the context of the prologue these words certainly have a longer reach, namely, to the absolute beginning of all things (1:1). It is only the incarnation itself that enables us to understand the deep thrust of John's prophetic word.126 In the later disputes over John's significance (see the comments on vss. 6-8), the fact that his ministry preceded that of Jesus played a role. Whether this polemic is also behind vss. 15 and 16127 is another matter (see comments on vs. 20). Vs. 16 can be understood apart from the polemic.

Verse 16 no longer forms a part of John's testimony but (as is evident from the word "fullness") continues vs. 14. This obviously implies that vs. 15 is an intermezzo that the Evangelist may have inserted later. It does not, however, disturb the connection. Vs. 16 is intended as a confirmation of vs. 14, and its causal "for" (oτi) is not isolated by the insertion of vs. 15. Rather, it incorporates vs. 15 into what is explained.

The fullness of the Word that was from the beginning proves itself in that which "we all" have received from it: "grace upon grace." "We all" is now the appropriate expression because not only the "we" of vs. 14 is meant but the entire community of those who believe in Christ. Of the hendiadys "grace and truth" in vs. 14 only the first term is repeated in this hard-to-translate phrase: "grace upon grace."128 Some interpret this occurrence of άντί, "upon," as referring to substitution: The grace of Christ takes the place of that of the Old Testament, the covenant given at Sinai (cf. vs. 17). In my view this is incorrect because John's Gospel does not understand the relation of the old and the new, Moses and Christ, in that way (cf., e.g., 5:39, 45f., and the comments below on vs. 17). Others read the "for" (άντί) as expressing the correspondence between grace and the giver of grace. This would, however, be a very difficult way to convey that idea.

More appealing is the view that interprets that "grace for grace" accumulatively.129 The phrase then serves to explicate "his fullness." This translation is all the more commendable if—as will be further discussed in the comments on vs. 17 — one may relate this double expression to the revelation of God's glory on Mt. Sinai according to Exodus 34. There "grace and truth" constitutes but one of the many designations by which Yahweh makes himself known in his glory: "Yahweh, Yahweh, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness, keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin" (Ex. 34:6, 7). "Grace upon grace" then reflects the "fullness" in which Exodus 34 speaks of grace and then again more grace.130

The Evangelist says that this abundance of grace is "received." After all the elevated pronouncements about the Logos himself, the Evangelist thus now makes himself the spokesman for the grateful church with its experience of this grace as an ever-accessible and inexhaustible fountain.131

Verse 17, again as a further explanation ("for"), juxtaposes the "grace and truth" that came through Jesus Christ with the law that was given through Moses. This is the first and — apart from 17:3 — the only time that the full name "Jesus Christ" occurs in this Gospel. Thus the approaching story announces itself. Jesus was the focus from the beginning, and everything up to this point led to his story.

The contrast with Moses (if indeed that, rather than a simple juxtaposition, is what we have here) is not straightforward. We need to ask whether all of vss. 14-18 must be read against the background of the story of the giving of the law in Exodus 34. One can advance several arguments in support of this view.132 Vs. 17 explicitly mentions the giving of the law. Exodus 34 mentions God's "grace and truth"133 and explicates it as "slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness . . ." (vss. 6f.) and describes the revelation of God's glory to Moses (cf. Jn. 1:14). Exodus tells of Moses' desire to "see" God's face, just as Jn. 1:18 mentions "seeing" God. Though most interpreters acknowledge the connection with Exodus 33 and 34 at least in regard to the expression "grace and truth,"134 only a few explore this link more deeply. That this link exists and that it illumines the comparison between Moses and Jesus is — in view of the striking points of resemblance — hard to deny.135

On this assumption it is clear that in vs. 17 we are not dealing with a Pauline contrast between law and grace. In the giving of the law God revealed himself to Moses, when "Yahweh passed before him" (Ex. 34:6) as the God of grace and truth, steadfast love, and faithfulness. But in that event Moses was not to see God's glory, even though he had prayed for it (33:20). Only after God had passed by would he remove from Moses the hand that covered him (33:18f.)·

Therefore, the difference between Moses and Jesus Christ as it is described in Jn. 1:17 is not that Moses and the dispensation of which he was the great representative stood outside the grace and truth of which Jesus Christ was the personification. After all, it was just before the giving of the law that the Lord revealed himself to Moses in the "fullness" of his grace. Still, however unequalled Moses' significance was as the mediator between God and the people of Israel, he could not see God's glory except from afar as the last rays of the sun, and even less could he be the bearer or dispenser of that glory in its fullness. But of Jesus Christ we are now told that grace and truth "came through him." That is, he not only proclaimed grace and truth but, as the one who was from above and into whose hand the Father had given all things (cf. 3:31, 35), he himself represented them in such a way that "from his fullness we have all been allowed to receive" (vs. 16). It is in this totally different background of God's revelation in Jesus Christ that everything ends in the last verse of the prologue, which is thus the summation and intensification of its entire content.

Some interpreters go further and are of the opinion that Moses and Jesus are not opposed here as representatives of two dispensations, the first of less value by comparison with the second. This is true of the law, to be sure, for it was temporary and antiquated, but what Moses saw of the revelation of Yahweh's glory was nothing other than the revelation of God in Jesus Christ (cf. Jn. 12:41). It differed from the revelation in the incarnate Word only in that it was temporary and restricted to Moses. For that reason "grace for grace" is not the substitution of one grace for the other but the continuation, renewal, and maintaining of the old.136 It may be that neither here nor elsewhere does the Evangelist oppose Moses and Christ as bearers of two different "principles" or even of two different "kinds" of grace.137 But this does not alter the fact that while Moses is the one whose significance is in the mediation of the giving of the law,138 Christ is the one who has God's grace and truth at his disposal. Apart from this contrast the mention of Moses here is hard to make intelligible.

That is also true of vs. 18. What has just been said about Moses resonates with the statement that "no one has ever seen God." Although the Old Testament speaks in different ways concerning the vision of God (cf. Ex. 33:11, 20; Nu. 12:8; Dt. 18:16),139 the persistent view is that for no one, not even for Moses, can God be an object of direct observation and that the human person cannot even exist in God's unveiled presence.

In vs. 18b this divine presence is attributed to "God's only begotten Son,140 who is in the bosom of the Father" (see the comments on vs. 14). The idea that already in Pr. 8:30 this last phrase referred to the transcendent Logos as one who "was enthroned before all time like a child on the lap of his father"141 seems unacceptable on general grounds.142 Also, the imagery is different here in John: It is not that of a child seated on his father's lap but that of two adults reclining next to each other at the same table, able to converse intimately (cf. 13:23). In this imagery there is also perhaps an allusion to the contrasting position of Moses ("you will see my back, but my face will not be seen," Ex. 33:18-23).

In any case, it is from this unique and direct communion with the Father, the immediacy of this "seeing" and "hearing," that the Son can speak (6:46; cf. 3:11, 32; 5:19f.). Therefore, the concluding statement of vs. 18 and of the entire prologue is: "He it is who has made God known (to us)."143

And thus the circle is completed. No one, of all the witnesses to God, has witnessed to God like the one who was from the beginning with God and was God. No one ascended to God but he who descended from him (3:13). He who comes from above is above all and bears witness to what he has seen and heard (3:31). That is the great thrust of the prologue, and it keeps returning in the Gospel. It is only in that light that we can understand what the Gospel will from this point say about the coming and the work of Jesus Christ.

1:19-28

The Forerunner

19 The transition from the prologue to 1:19ff. is smooth, in regard to both the conjunction used (a simple "and") and the content: "This is the testimony of John," which picks up the theme begun in vss. 6-8 and 15. This again shows how closely the prologue and the gospel story are linked and how essential vss. 6-8 and 15 are for that connection. It also shows that the Evangelist's sole concern is the testimony of John concerning Jesus (cf. vs. 6).

What is said about John in vss. 19ff. does not relate to the beginning and course of his ministry but to a time when he had already become generally known and Jesus himself had already come to be baptized by him. This also shows that the Evangelist assumes that his readers know of John and his ministry; hence in writing his Gospel he does not have a primarily missionary purpose. He addresses himself, rather, to an already existing Christian community and seeks to bring it to a deeper insight into what it already knows as the gospel of Jesus Christ (cf. 20:31).

The first testimony of John relates to his own place and calling in the redemptive process, which began with his coming and is presented to a commission of inquiry consisting of priests and Levites sent by "the Jews" of Jerusalem.

"The Jews" in the Gospel of John

Here for the first time we encounter the term "the Jews," which recurs frequently in this Gospel. Although its meaning in John shows clear nuances, we will have to proceed exegetically from the general usage current in the post-Old Testament period, when both "Jew" and "Israelite" were used to indicate that a person belonged by ancestry to Israel both as a people and as a religious community. Increasingly "Jew" displaced "Israelite." Whereas "Israel" was still the people's self-designation, "Jew" was generally used by non-Jews for Jews, and Jews in the diaspora gradually adopted this designation.

As a rule this Evangelist adopts this usage; he rarely uses "Israel" or "Israelite," and only when he is citing statements made by Palestinian Jews among themselves (1:31, 47; 3:10) or when he is referring to standardized names or texts (1:49; 12:13). He himself lives and writes (as a Jew) in an environment in which the term "Jews" was used exclusively; and he writes for readers who, even if they are themselves Jews, live at a great distance — in time, place, and mind — from the events in Palestine recounted in the Gospel and who therefore need to be more precisely informed in many respects about the customs, etc., of "the Jews" (cf., e.g., 4:9; 19:40).

Obviously this does not mean that "Jew" had a negative connotation for them. The Evangelist speaks of Jesus himself as a Jew (4:9) just as Jesus can say to the Samaritan woman who addresses him as such that salvation is "from the Jews" (4:22). And the Evangelist mentions many Jews who believe in Jesus (8:31; cf. 11:45; 12:11). The feasts "of the Jews" are mentioned with no negative connotation (cf. 6:4; 2:13; 5:1; see also 19:40; 42; 3:1, etc.).

Nevertheless — and this is an important nuance in the Fourth Gospel — "the Jews" are frequently seen in dialogue with Jesus, and the term thereby acquires a strong connotation of "Jews who are hostile to Jesus," with special reference in many cases (a sharp line of demarcation is impossible here!) to the Jewish leaders and authorities. For instance, it is said that the feast pilgrims — themselves Jews! — dared not speak about Jesus "for fear of the Jews" (7:13; similarly 9:22; 19:38; 20:19), who in that case are those more specifically called "the Pharisees" elsewhere (12:42; cf. also 5:10 with 9:13).

Therefore, this specific sense of "the Jews" is not based on anything inherent in the word itself or on any desire of the Evangelist to give the term itself a denigrating overtone. It reflects, rather, the historical reality that in Jesus' confrontation with the Israel of his day the people generally and especially their religious leaders did not accept him as the Messiah and Son of God. The use of this designation neither implies a contrast between Jews and non-Jews nor, even less, reflects a racist or anti-Semitic tendency. It represents, rather, the dominant religious decision of the Jewish people themselves. Even then one will have to guard against a generalizing explanation that suggests that this nuance contains an exclusive tendency toward all Jews and everything that is Jewish. There is in this Gospel a spectrum of nuances, from "the Jews" as the people called and chosen by God to salvation (cf. 4:22) to "the Jews" as the leading aristocracy, those that sought Jesus' destruction (cf., e.g., 5:18; 7:1; 11:8, etc.).1

In ch. 1 there is no pressing reason to take "the Jews" to mean, already here, religious opponents of John and his testimony (cf. 5:33, 35). But Jewish leaders are meant here, and, considering the role they will play in this Gospel, one can say that from the start, in their conduct toward John and his witness to the Light (cf. vs. 7), the "darkness" (vs. 5) is casting its shadow forward.2

At first, the Jewish authorities limited themselves to gathering information, though they soon proceeded to asking critical questions. The use of priests and Levites as emissaries can be understood in light of the fact that John's ministry was characterized by the baptism to which he called people. In the sphere of "purification" (cf. 3:25) priests and Levites were the most expert and involved.

The core question in this first encounter is: "You, who are you?" The intent, of course, is not to inquire into John's personal background but into what and who in his ministry and baptism he claimed to be; specifically, as is evident from the questions that follow, what significance he believed he should attribute to himself within the context of the judgment that he was so emphatically announcing and the baptism he offered as a means of escaping that judgment (cf., e.g., Mt. 3:7). In other words, the question concerns John's "eschatological" or "salvation-historical" identity, which determines everything about his ministry.

20 The terms in which John's reaction is described characterize it as an answer in a legal examination (in keeping with the forensic meaning of "testimony"). "Confess" and "deny" therefore do not relate to faith but mean something like "clearly acknowledge." Both verbs are used absolutely: "He clearly stated it and did not hedge." Then the first verb returns with a dependent clause: "He declared openly 7 am not the Christ.' " The emphasis thus put on the denial (partly by the initial position of "I") repeats forcefully what has been said in vs. 8 and will be repeated again in 3:28. Many interpreters regard this as polemically directed against the sect of John's adherents, who regarded him as the Messiah (see above, on vs. 15). It seems hard to determine whether and to what extent the Fourth Gospel would have wanted or would have been able to take a position against this notion — which can only be shown to have existed in a later period. In any case, the repeated emphasis on John's testimony that he is not the Messiah is not only or primarily to be explained in terms of polemical considerations but rather in terms of "the Evangelist's desire to portray John as the ideal witness to Christ,"3 one who as much as possible diverted all attention away from himself and onto Christ. In his emphatic and repeated "I am not" he leaves no doubt that the question itself, namely that of the coming of the Messiah, was at issue in a most existential way. But one must not misidentify the person who is the Messiah.

21 This is confirmed by the fact that John not only disclaims all messianic dignity for himself but also rejects the notion suggested by the Jews that he might (believe himself to) be "Elijah" or "the prophet." To these questions as well John gives the negative answer that he gave to the first, apparently with the same intent.4

It is not easy to say precisely what the role of "the prophet" and of "Elijah" — expected on the basis of Dt. 18:15 and Ml. 3:23 — was thought to be, either in regard to their mutual relationship or their position in relation to the coming Messiah. Some scholars think that messianic significance was attributed especially to "the prophet," specifically in connection with Moses and his miracles.5 The Qumran writings refer frequently to "the prophet," sometimes in close conjunction with "the anointed one of Aaron" and "the anointed one of Israel" (1 QS 11). Some see in these three figures the three figures referred to here in vs. 25.6 Still, especially in regard to "Elijah," a great deal remains uncertain here. In any case, at Qumran as here and in 7:40f., "the prophet" and the Messiah are clearly distinguished. Elsewhere in ancient Jewish writings Elijah plays a large eschatological role as the Messiah's forerunner, as the one whose task it is to prepare the people for the Messiah's coming and, to this end, to "restore all things" (as summarized in Mt. 17: ll).7

However much his public conduct and the spirit and power of his preaching of repentance reminded people of Elijah, John himself rejected any notion that he would identify his coming with that of Elijah redivivus or of "the prophet," however that was understood. Evidently he knew himself to be the inferior of the coming one (cf. vs. 27) so well that he rejected as unbecoming to himself every claim to a role in which, according to Jewish eschatology, the glory of the coming bringer of salvation would also radiate from him.8 In light of this, one can also understand that later, when John's ministry had lost its initial appeal among the masses, Jesus called him a prophet, even more than a prophet, and in fact, against all appearances ("if you are willing to accept it"), pointed him out as the Elijah who was to come (Mt. ll:9ff., 14).

22 The emissaries are not content with John's negative answers. If he is neither the Christ, nor Elijah, nor the prophet, then who is he? They add that they are asking him these questions as persons who have been "sent." He must be aware that his public conduct has attracted attention on the highest levels and therefore that there must be an answer. Therefore, "What do you say about yourself?"

23 John's answer to this question consists of a direct reference to the prophecy in Isaiah 40. It is noteworthy that he refers the words of Is. 40:3 to himself quite explicitly: The last clause of vs. 23 apparently also belongs to what John said. In the Synoptics this reference to Isaiah 40 is an interpretation of the Evangelists or of the tradition they followed. One is inclined to think that the Johannine Evangelist put this (later) interpretation in John's own mouth. Obviously that is not an impossibility. But neither is the reverse, that is, that the Baptist identified himself with the herald of Isaiah 40. In this regard it may be pointed out that the Qumran sect, which was active in the same region and period as John, also related its existence "in the wilderness" to Isaiah 40. Hence it is certainly not inconceivable that John also made this connection and that the interpretation of the Synoptics is traceable to him and not vice versa.9

By basing his mission on Isaiah 40, John both places it in the light of the great prophecy and expectation of the coming kingdom of God and also clearly distinguishes himself from the one who is to bring salvation. His role is restricted to that of preparing the way for the Lord. He who is coming is near, but his "path" has not yet been made level. The region that he desires to pass through is still desolate and impassable. Therefore the forerunner's voice resounds "in the wilderness"; it is a cry for straight and level paths, for penitence and conversion, without which the people cannot receive the coming one. So John identifies himself, and in his self-identification, against the background of the great salvation motif of prophecy (cf. Is. 40: Iff.) and over against Israel's spiritual leaders, the light unmistakably falls on the desperate spiritual condition of the people under that leadership.

Verse 24 first tells the readers, for their further information, that the emissaries are in part also members of the Pharisaic party,10 who in the remainder of the Gospel repeatedly act over against Jesus as the representatives of official Judaism, with or without the cooperation of the chief priests (cf. 4:1 ; 7:32, 45f.; 8:3, 13; 9:13f.; 11:46, 47, 57; 12:42; 18:3). That these Pharisaic emissaries are mentioned here separately as those who ask further questions in vs. 25 is probably intended to make clear that the most influential party stalwarts among the Jews were involved in this confrontation — which places in even sharper relief the critical element in the confrontation.

25 Their next question does not relate to John's self-testimony. Apparently their greatest concern was not that he acted as a preacher of penitence. What interested them most in his public conduct was baptism, which he linked with penitence within the context of the message of judgment, thus offering people a means of escape from judgment ("flee from the wrath to come," Mt. 3:7). Their repeated reference to the Messiah, Elijah, and the prophet does not imply that these figures were expected to baptize, but it does imply that one who baptized with a view to the judgment to come certainly had to possess "eschatological" authority such as these expected figures did. Therefore, "Why — and on whose authority — do you baptize?"

26,27 John's answer is plain. In one sentence it describes precisely both his own situation and their involvement in it. Here we have the first half of the pronouncement that we know from the other Evangelists (cf. Mt. 3:11): "I baptize with water." The second half does not come until vs. 33. With "I baptize" John stands by his own ministry and authority as baptizer, but with "with water" he relativizes the significance of his ministry by immediately linking it with a reference to one "who comes after" him. The opening words thus acquire concessive meaning: "True, I baptize, but. . . ."11 By stating the matter thus he informs his interrogators at the outset that any self-elevation of which they apparently suspect him is foreign to him. Whoever he himself may be, in comparison to the one who coming after him, even serving that person as a slave would be too great an honor for John.12 This is what he has "to say about himself" (cf. vs. 22). When he baptized, his task consisted in nothing other than pointing away from himself and toward the coming one.

By introducing the coming one to his interrogators in this way John indicates that as long as they occupy themselves with him they do not realize what is really happening in the wilderness in which he preaches and baptizes. After all, the "one [who] stands among you whom you do not know" is he of whose superiority John is utterly convinced. This does not necessarily mean that on that day Jesus was personally present in John's audience (cf. vs. 29). But it does mean that he who was to come had arrived — his presence among them was an accomplished fact — and therefore that attention to him was a matter of the greatest relevance and urgency for them. Many interpreters think that in "whom you do not know" a theme is being struck that was already sounded in the prologue (vss. lOf.) and that makes itself felt with increasing force as an indictment against "the Jews," who inquire concerning one who is already among them, though they do not acknowledge him.13 But this is questionable. In vss. 31 and 33 John also says of himself that he "did not know" the coming one before God pointed him out. In the same sense "the Jews" did not know him. They were still at the stage where they needed someone to point Jesus out and make him known to them, and it was John's task (vs. 31), by his baptism with water, to do just that, to make Jesus known to Israel. But here this point is not yet made in so many words. John ends his testimony to "the Jews" — very characteristically, to be sure! — with "whom you do not know" even while "he stands among you." If therefore they want to go home with an answer for those who have sent them, it is this: There is more at stake in John's baptism than they are apparently aware of.

In the repeated reference to "not knowing" and "being revealed" in vs. 31 some scholars see an allusion to the notion — current in certain Jewish circles — that before appearing in public the Messiah would first live a hidden life on earth. Occasionally also 7:27 is interpreted in that fashion.14 Though there could be terminological affinities here, this repeated "not knowing" is intended to stress not correspondence with a certain Jewish pattern of expectation concerning the Messiah, but rather the special and undeniable revelational character of John's testimony. What drove John to his public action as forerunner of the coming one and to his baptizing "with water" was not his own initiative or his arrogant desire to be something special; it was solely the result of the prompting of the one who sent him to prepare for and identify the coming of him who would baptize with the Holy Spirit (see further the comments on vss. 3 Iff.). And it was this knowledge that "the Jews" from Jerusalem still lacked, knowledge needed to acknowledge as Messiah this one who stood among them.

The Evangelist restricts the words to "the Jews" to this general statement. The more specific nature and content of the glory of the coming one will not be expressed until "the next day," when Jesus himself will appear on the scene.

28 The topographical reference with which the pericope is concluded (as elsewhere, cf. 6:59; 8:20; 11:54) marks a division in the text and imparts to what follows its own weight, which leads to the climax of John's testimony. The reference also underscores the historic importance of John's conduct and the trustworthiness of the narrative as referring to what really happened in a real place. The actual location of this Bethany beyond the Jordan (cf. 3:26; 10:40) can no longer be ascertained with any certainty.15 Although a symbolic interpretation of the name has been attempted, it has not been persuasive.

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 Footnotes & references

Jesus, the Lamb of God

29 The next day John saw Jesus coming toward him and said, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world! 30 He is the one I was talking about when I said, ‘A man is coming after me who is far greater than I am, for he existed long before me.’ 31 I did not recognize him as the Messiah, but I have been baptizing with water so that he might be revealed to Israel.”

32 Then John testified, “I saw the Holy Spirit descending like a dove from heaven and resting upon him. 33 I didn’t know he was the one, but when God sent me to baptize with water, he told me, ‘The one on whom you see the Spirit descend and rest is the one who will baptize with the Holy Spirit.’ 34 I saw this happen to Jesus, so I testify that he is the Chosen One of God.[l]”

The First Disciples

35 The following day John was again standing with two of his disciples. 36 As Jesus walked by, John looked at him and declared, “Look! There is the Lamb of God!” 37 When John’s two disciples heard this, they followed Jesus.

38 Jesus looked around and saw them following. “What do you want?” he asked them.

They replied, “Rabbi” (which means “Teacher”), “where are you staying?”

39 “Come and see,” he said. It was about four o’clock in the afternoon when they went with him to the place where he was staying, and they remained with him the rest of the day.

40 Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, was one of these men who heard what John said and then followed Jesus. 41 Andrew went to find his brother, Simon, and told him, “We have found the Messiah” (which means “Christ”[m]).

42 Then Andrew brought Simon to meet Jesus. Looking intently at Simon, Jesus said, “Your name is Simon, son of John—but you will be called Cephas” (which means “Peter”[n]).

43 The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, “Come, follow me.” 44 Philip was from Bethsaida, Andrew and Peter’s hometown.

45 Philip went to look for Nathanael and told him, “We have found the very person Moses[o] and the prophets wrote about! His name is Jesus, the son of Joseph from Nazareth.”

46 “Nazareth!” exclaimed Nathanael. “Can anything good come from Nazareth?”

“Come and see for yourself,” Philip replied.

47 As they approached, Jesus said, “Now here is a genuine son of Israel—a man of complete integrity.”

48 “How do you know about me?” Nathanael asked.

Jesus replied, “I could see you under the fig tree before Philip found you.”

49 Then Nathanael exclaimed, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God—the King of Israel!”

50 Jesus asked him, “Do you believe this just because I told you I had seen you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this.” 51 Then he said, “I tell you the truth, you will all see heaven open and the angels of God going up and down on the Son of Man, the one who is the stairway between heaven and earth.[p]”

 Basic Commentary on John 1:29-51

Commentary on John 1:29-51:

Gift of the Holy Spirit

Are you enjoying everything Jesus has made possible for you? Or are you still feeling guilty and powerless? Jesus came to bring forgiveness, new life and the power of the Holy Spirit to you. Make sure you take possession of what is already yours, today.

In this passage we see a remarkable sequence of the titles given to Jesus. Jesus is the ‘Son of God’ (vv.34,49), ‘Messiah’ (v.41), ‘King of Israel’ (v.49) and ‘Son of Man’ (v.51).

I want to focus particularly on two titles in this passage that describe the ministry of Jesus.

Sin remover

The blood of the lamb saved the Israelites from slavery and allowed them to walk in freedom to the promised land (Exodus 11–15). John says of Jesus, ‘Look, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!’ (John 1:29). As you come to Jesus, he takes away your sins. Claim, trust, believe in the forgiveness bought for you. Actively reject feelings of guilt, shame or unworthiness. It is a proactive, practical, daily choice to take possession of the forgiveness that Jesus has made possible for you.

Spirit baptiser

John the Baptist describes Jesus as ‘the one who will baptise with the Holy Spirit’ (v.33). Jesus fills you with his Holy Spirit. This is what Jesus has made possible for you. However, you have to take possession of this wonderful gift that God has made available for you.

Jesus invited Philip, ‘follow me’ (v.43). The Greek word for ‘to follow’ means not only ‘to walk in the footsteps’ but also to accompany, to be with. When they ask Jesus, ‘Where are you staying?’, the Greek for ‘staying’ is the same word Jesus uses in John 15 – ‘remain in me as I remain in you’. They see where Jesus is staying and remain with him. Jesus invites you, too, to a deep, personal friendship with him.

Jesus also gives you the opportunity to do what John the Baptist did – to point others to him. Of course, God does not need a human agent. Jesus could continue his ministry without our help. However, we see in this passage how God uses his disciples to call people.

They bring their friends to Jesus: John the Baptist introduces Andrew (vv.35–36); Andrew introduces Peter (v.41) and Philip introduces Nathanael (v.45). Nathanael was suspicious at first, but then he came and immediately found that Jesus really was the Son of God (v.49).

The former Archbishop of Canterbury, William Temple, wrote a commentary on John’s Gospel. When he came to the words ‘and he [Andrew] brought him [Simon Peter] to Jesus’ (v.42a), Temple wrote a short but momentous sentence: ‘The greatest service that one [person] can do to another.’

Simon Peter went on to be one of the most significant influences in the history of Christianity. You may not be able to do what Peter did, but you can do what his brother Andrew did – you can bring someone to Jesus.

Or, just like Philip, you can say ‘come and see’ (v.46) to your friends, family and work colleagues. You can be a part of God’s plan for people to hear about and respond to Jesus as you invite them to ‘come and see’.

I have found that there is nothing more exciting in life than being involved in the ministry of Jesus. It is so gracious of God to involve us, imperfect human beings, in his perfect plan.

Lord, help me today to enjoy this gift of forgiveness and the fullness of life in the Holy Spirit. Help me also to introduce others to you – to invite people to ‘come and see’ (v.46)

 Advanced commentary John 1:29-34

1:29-34

"Behold, God's Lamb!"

29 In this pericope John's witness to Jesus reaches its climax, no longer as his response to questions from "the Jews" but as his reaction to the appearance of Jesus himself. Now — on "the next day" — there is no mention of "the Jews" or, indeed, of any audience, though an audience is of course assumed. Nor is there any further explanation of Jesus' coming to John. The readers' knowledge of the person of Jesus, who appears here for the first time, is assumed, as is knowledge that at a certain time he went from Galilee to the Jordan and answered the general call to be baptized (Mt. 3:13). We are not, therefore, dealing with Jesus' first encounter with John. Though it has not been described, John's baptizing activity has already been taking place (vs. 33). But all these historical details remain unmentioned.

What is at stake here is John's central witness that he gives about the coming one, as he stands face-to-face with him, in the solemn form of a revelational utterance:16 "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." The first part of this pronouncement is repeated in vs. 36. The pronouncement is clearly intended, both there and there, as the descriptive statement most characteristic of John's witness.17

What follows in vss. 30ff. provides a more detailed account of how John came to understand that Jesus was the coming bringer of salvation. While these explanatory statements clearly reflect traditions that we also find in the Synoptics, the opening pronouncement itself ("Behold, the Lamb of God . . .") is exclusively Johannine and on the face of it does not appear to find further explanation in vss. 30ff.

Many scholars even believe that this first pronouncement cannot be understood within the limits of the Baptist's message itself since, they assume, it refers directly to the expiatory power of Jesus' sacrificial death. John would thus, in his first witness to Jesus, be anticipating everything that was still to come and immediately saying "the last thing" about Jesus without giving any further explication of it. But even if one rejects this argument and ascribes such foreknowledge of Jesus' future sacrificial death to John's special inspiration as a prophet,18 the objection remains that the pronouncement is still not clearly integrated into the context. And the same objection applies no less to the view that it is a later Christian interpretation of Jesus' coming and work, specifically of his death, that the Evangelist put in the mouth of John the Baptist as basic to the understanding of the Gospel.19 For with however much justification one can say that all historical gospel stories contain interpretive elements in their construction, this does not mean that the Evangelists put into the mouth of just anyone, at just any point in the narrative, all that the church gradually came to confess on the basis of the gospel narrative without the least concern about the historical context. Here, how should one view the idea that at the center of the Baptist's witness the Evangelist put into his mouth a pronouncement about Jesus for which the context contained not a single explanation or even a point of contact?20

It is not surprising, therefore, that many scholars have been unable to content themselves with explaining vs. 29 as something imported — an explanation that does not arise from the context — but have taken great pains to arrive at a solution within the framework of John's own witness.

Various attempts deserve mention:

a) According to one view, the pronouncement about the Lamb of God reflects the heavenly voice that John heard at the baptism of Jesus and by which, according to the Synoptic tradition, Jesus was designated (with an allusion to Is. 42:1) as God's beloved Son, in whom God was well pleased (cf. Mk. 1:11 ; Mt. 3:17). Hence, proceeding from this identification of Jesus with the Servant of the Lord in Isaiah 42, the Baptist is said to have referred here especially to the sequel of this prophecy in Isaiah 53, where the Servant vicariously takes the sins of others on himself and is compared, in his voiceless suffering, with a lamb (though not with a sacrificial lamb: cf. Is. 53:5f.). In favor of this view is that it moves in the direction indicated by John himself in vss. 30ff. Against it is that for his "knowledge" of Jesus John does not appeal to the voice that spoke at the baptism (about which he is completely silent) but to the descent of the Spirit onto Jesus. Also, even if one should insist on thinking of the voice, the objection remains that one cannot, certainly not directly, derive from the allusion to Is. 42:1 the proclamation of Jesus as the suffering Servant of the Lord who expiates the sin of the world.21

b) Other scholars believe that this last objection could be resolved if for this utterance ("Behold, the Lamb of God") one went back to the Aramaic. Αμνός is said to be the translation οί talyâ, which, besides "lamb," can also mean "servant" or "boy" (παις). The assumption then is that in the Greek tradition a shift took place from the originally intended "servant of God" to "Lamb of God." This change in the Greek is supposed to have arisen in connection with the concept — which later emerged in the church — of the Messiah as the sacrificial lamb.22 But apart from the general objection (see above) that for this explanation one has to appeal to the voice at the baptism, to which the Baptist does not refer, there are other objections against this subtle hypothesis. Talyâ is not the most obvious translation of 'ebed in Is. 42:If. One would rather expect Aramaic 'abdā' since talyâ usually means "boy" and not "servant." Furthermore, του θεοṽ is not used of the Servant in Isaiah 42.23

c) Similar objections have to be advanced against Schlatter's view, which is that the Baptist's pronouncement is based on Jesus' willingness to be baptized by John and thus to put himself in the company of sinners.24 It is just as true of the baptism as it is of the voice from heaven that it is not mentioned.

d) Dodd has suggested an entirely different background against which to understand John's pronouncement about the Lamb of God.25 He points out that in the Old Testament the lamb is "not the characteristic sin-offering" and that the widely favored opinion that the reference here is to Christ as the true paschal lamb is highly improbable because that symbolism is nowhere mentioned in the story of Jesus' suffering and death and because the indirect evidences cited for it are weak.26 Also the expression "take away sin" need not be understood in the sense of "vicariously bearing sin away" but can also very well refer to "removal," that is, more an act of power than one of expiation or atonement. Dodd also believes that in the expression "Lamb of God" we are dealing with an original messianic title of power, as it is in Revelation, where the lamb shares in the omnipotence of God (Rv. 22:1, 3) and battles against God's enemies (14:1-5; 17:14; cf. 5:6). This image is said to occur elsewhere in apocalyptic literature where the people of God is pictured as a flock and its leaders as horned sheep or rams,27 as in Revelation, which mentions a many-horned lamb.

Others such as Barrett28 and Brown29 have followed Dodd partly in attributing this supposed apocalyptic understanding of the "Lamb of God" to John the Baptist. The church, they say, later associated John's pronouncement with the expiatory function of the Lamb. According to Barrett, it was in reflection on the Lord's Supper that these different elements came together.30 The expression then refers to Jesus as the eschato-logical, true, God-given Lamb in whom the paschal meal celebrated at the exodus finds its eschatological fulfillment. Thus, though in the Baptist's saying the title is said to have a historic point of connection, in later reflection it came to be joined with other elements, namely expiatory death, passover, and eucharist.

However weighty the objections that Dodd has advanced against the traditional interpretation and however much there is to be said for the view that in vs. 29 we are dealing with a title of power (see below), the basis for the apocalyptic significance of the lamb as an image of power and of messianic leadership of the people of God is weak. The material culled from a few scattered utterances in Jewish apocalyptic literature is certainly not adequate to support the conclusion that we are dealing with an existing messianic title of power.31 And in the Revelation of John the horned lamb does serve as a representation of Christ's position of power, but it does so as the image of the crucified one, now exalted, whose violent death is determinative for our understanding of the figure ("a lamb standing as though it had been slain," Rv. 5:6, etc.).

e) The view of P. J. du Plessis is based on extensive and astute structural analysis and is affirmed against all "diachronic" explanations of άμνός. He, too, believes that John's pronouncement relates not to Jesus' future suffering and humiliation but rather to his power and glory. This is the case with the "taking away of sin," which is further described as the "baptism with the Holy Spirit" in vs. 33, that is, as the authority and power to take away sin. And it also applies to άμνός, a term that must be understood in the context — in terms of the glory of the coming one as the only begotten of the Father and as the Son of God — as a terminus gloriae, that is, as the expression of the tenderness, love, and glory that proceed from God to Jesus as his only begotten Son. "If one now asks," writes du Plessis, "precisely why he uses the word άμνος, it is not because the word itself carries the tenderness, love, and glory, but because, in and by his argumentation, the author assigns this meaning to the word."32

Although, as will be clear from what follows, we consider du Plessis's analysis of John 1 most illuminating, specifically in the manner in which he wants to see the pronouncement of vs. 29 explained as totally rooted and integrated in the context, this filling out of the word άμνός purely on the basis of the context and without clear points of contact in what the word means "as such" seems a bit forced. From a semantic point of view, the combination "lamb" and "sin" is too specific for the exegete to ignore the intrinsic connection between the two concepts; all the less because (see below) the idea of plenary authority inherent in this pronouncement, as correctly pointed out by du Plessis, thereby need not be abandoned.

In light of the total picture, the pronouncement in vs. 29 can hardly be understood other than as John's pointing to Jesus as the Lamb of God because it is Jesus who will effect the reconciliation of the world to God. On closer scrutiny, the thesis that such a description of Jesus in the language of Israel's sacrificial cult would not fit in the context of John's preaching is hard to maintain, at least as long as one guards against overinterpretation,33 that is, against any interpretation not based on the context here but on any of a variety of specific expiatory motifs derived from elsewhere, such as Isaiah 53, Christ as the true paschal lamb, or the institution of the Lord's Supper.

In general one can say, as does Schlatter, that where penitence and conversion are the issue, as in John's preaching, "the matter of sacrifice takes on the greatest importance." After all, in Israel the ministry of reconciliation was centered not on a ritual of baptism but in the temple service, and that not only incidentally at the high points of the liturgy but rather in the continual daily morning and evening sacrifice of a one-year-old lamb.34 We do not know John's attitude toward the ministry of sacrifice practiced in Jerusalem. But it is clear that — though himself the son of a priest — he did not fulfill his mandate of calling people to faith and repentance from sin within the setting of the temple service but, like the Qumran sect, distanced himself from that setting. And his criticism of the official Judaism of the day is just as unmistakable from what else we know of him (cf. Mt. 3:7ff.) and of those who opposed his public ministry (cf. Jn. l:19ff.), namely, that they included "priests and Levites."

This is not to say, of course, that the whole idea of the ministry of sacrifice as the foundation of communion between God and his people and of his indwelling in Israel was for John a strange or objectionable thing. When on the day after his meeting with the temple authorities he points to Jesus as the Lamb of God, there is rather implied in this most striking, absolute description that, in place of and as the fulfillment of the continual (tāmîd) sacrificial lamb in the temple service, God himself is now, once and for all, providing the true ("eschatological") Lamb (cf. Gn. 22:8) that takes away the sin of the world. The idea that in this statement John immediately, by implication, also refers to Jesus' death as the way in which God would vicariously take away the sin of the world is a conclusion for the support of which one can of course adduce all sorts of material from the outside ("diachronically"), but which is by no means prompted by the words of the text as it stands (or by the Gospel as a whole).35 All that is said here in one splendid and comprehensive pronouncement is that from now on Jesus acts and answers for the reconciliation and indwelling fellowship between God and his people symbolized till now by the lamb — and does so for the whole world. The pronouncement limits itself to that general and foundational thought: Jesus is the Lamb, as he is also the temple (2:19) and as the rituals of the great festivals in Jerusalem and the meaning of the sabbath find their fulfillment in him (see the comments on 7:37ff.; 8:12; 7:22ff.).36

Certainly in all this lies the continuity between the old and the new (see the comments on 1:17). But at the same time it is clear that in Jesus the boundaries of the old are absolutely transcended in regard to the place of worship, the manner of God's indwelling, the way of reconciliation (cf., e.g., 4:21ff.), and also the effect of all this for the whole world. It is — as is clearly apparent from the context (see the comments on vs. 30) — that wholly other and superior dimension in the effectuation of reconciliation between God and the world that the Lamb of God, as presently pointed out by John, provides, and that not only with a view to John's own mission but also with reference to the entire dispensation of salvation in force up to this point.

For that reason, those interpreters who speak here of a terminus gloriae or title of power (see above) are correct in substance. Jesus is the Lamb provided by God, but in this passage not in his capacity as one who will humble himself to death, but in his God-given power and authority to take away the sin of the world and thus to open the way to God for the whole world. That all this will also require him to give himself for the life of the world will emerge in ever clearer terms in what follows, that is, in the disclosure by Jesus himself of the deepest secret of his mission (see the comments on 3:13ff.; 6:51ff.; 10:15, 17f.; 13:8). But there, too, in keeping with the nature of this Gospel's soteriology, this will be constantly accompanied by an appeal to the "power" granted to Jesus by the Father. It will be depicted, that is, as the self-surrender of the Son of man who descended from heaven (see the comments on 3:13ff. and 6:53), "into whose hands" "the Father has given all things" (13:1, 3) and who has "power to lay down his life and to take it up again" (10:17f.).

But, as we have said, it was not in the nature of John's mission to anticipate all this in a single "cryptic saying" but rather, at the first appearance of the coming one to Israel, to point out, in its fundamental significance, the reversal in the divine dispensation of salvation that the Lamb was to accomplish (cf. 1:17); and that not only for the worshipers in the ceremonial temple service at Jerusalem but for all those in the world who worship God in spirit and truth (cf. 4:21-24).

30 All this is true all the more because, as stated earlier, the pronouncement in vs. 29 does not function structurally as an isolated foreign element in this context but has the form of an emphatically positioned revelational utterance that will be elaborated and further explained in what now follows37 and will be echoed in vs. 36. In fact, closer inspection shows that vs. 29 constitutes a new beginning of the witness of John to the one greater than he — a witness that began in general terms in vss. 26 and 27.

In vs. 30 John repeats in slightly different terms the statement of vs. 27, but this time in direct reference to Jesus as he comes walking toward John and as John proclaims him as the Lamb of God. For — as John now says emphatically — he had Jesus in mind when he spoke of him as the one who came after him but was before him ("This is he of whom I said .. .").38 Of that superiority — already articulated in vs. 29 — he provides further evidence in vss. 3 Iff.

The opening words of vs. 31: "I myself did not know him," repeated in vs. 33 and with the same emphasis as here,39 are also to be understood here as a pointer to the provisionality and subordination of John's own role in the history of salvation. He did not belong to or enter into the company of Jesus' disciples, not even as Jesus' least important slave (vs. 27; cf. Mt. 11:11). Instead, he came as the one who had to prepare for Jesus' coming. Hence: "I myself did not know him; but for this I came baptizing with water: so that he might be revealed to Israel." Equally typical is the expression, used already in vs. 26 and repeated in vs. 33, "baptize with water." There, too, we see the inferiority and provisionality of John's mission. His mission and power did not extend beyond cleansing with water those who, in response to his call for repentance, came to be baptized. He could not remove the sin itself. Still, for this purpose he did come and was sent so that by his baptism with water he might reveal the coming one to Israel, that is, make that one known in his true significance. That baptism was intended to get Israel on the right track, where the people could look for and, as it were, go out to meet the coming one, the one who — perhaps against their expectations — had to do above all with their sin, both in judging it and redeeming them from it; and not only with their sin but also with the sin of the whole world. That is why John's call to penitence and to conversion preceded the coming of Jesus. And when John saw Jesus coming toward him to receive the testimony of the forerunner in the hearing of all the people, John's prophetic proclamation was therefore also completely determined by the sin of the world: "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world." For as such Jesus had to be "revealed": as the one who would take away sins (cf. 1 Jn. 3:5).40 Accordingly, it is of that revelation that John gives a further account in vss. 32 and 33.

Verse 32 introduces this with the appropriate forensic terminology: "And John bore witness: Ί saw [cf. 1:14] the Spirit descend as a dove from heaven, and it remained on him.' " This is of course a reflection of the event recounted in the Synoptic Gospels and assumed to be familiar to the readers: the descent of the Spirit onto Jesus, permanently equipping him for his divine mission. But the whole historic sequence remains unmentioned here. All that matters is the revelational event — that which legitimated John's ministry and on which his witness concerning Jesus was based — and the accompanying voice of God, which enabled John to understand the event's redemptive significance.

This voice from heaven is described in vs. 33. Again John says, "I myself did not know him" (see the comments on vs. 31). Here everything is focused on the divine designation of Jesus as "the coming one," the one on whom John would see the Spirit descend, the one who "baptizes with the Holy Spirit." By this God himself identifies Jesus as not only the bearer but also the dispenser of the Spirit.

The clause used to describe this, "baptize with the Spirit," is of special importance for the understanding of this entire pericope. In the nature of the case it functions as the — now finally disclosed — complement of John's repeated baptizing with water. The baptism with the Spirit makes clear again, and now in its full significance, the absolute superiority of the coming one over his forerunner: Whereas John baptized with water, the coming one baptizes with the Holy Spirit as the possessor and dispenser of the reality to which John with his water baptism only pointed. And because the baptism with the Spirit is the fulfillment of what John did with water, the redemptive significance of the Spirit is revealed above all in its cleansing, sin-removing power,41 and thus the proclamation in vs. 29 is also rooted in the revelation that was granted to John.42

The two utterances in vss. 29 and 33 determine, in their interrelationship, the content of the Baptist's great initial witness to Jesus. The second does so in the language of John's own mandate (baptism), the first in the language — so much more characteristic of Israel's religion — of the sacrificial cult. John thus puts all the emphasis on the redemptive significance of the coming one, on his identity as "the Lamb of God" and his "baptizing with the Holy Spirit," when in vs. 34 he concludes his testimony with "I have seen and have testified that this one is the Son of God." This "seeing" and the witness based on it refer again to the revelation granted to John — specifically, one suspects, to the voice that sounded from heaven at the time of the revelation (cf. Mt. 3:17; Mk. 1:11; Lk. 3:21).

"This one" and "the Son of God" are codeterminative, and both have, in a sense, predicative significance: On the one hand, the title "Son of God" is strongly emphasized as the divine identification of Jesus as the Christ.43 John's witness in this regard forms part of the foundation of what the Evangelist seeks to accomplish with his entire Gospel (20:31 ). On the other hand, "this one" is also emphatically positioned; it refers to the one who baptizes with the Holy Spirit and thus takes away the sin of the world. This summarizing conclusion of John's witness refers, then, to both the person and the redemptive significance of the one whose forerunner he is. Accordingly, it is that specific meaning implied in "this one" that in vs. 36 forms the link between vss. 29-34 and the following pericope, which speaks of what happened "the next day" (vs. 35).

At the same time this casts light on the peculiar and significant structure evidenced in the witness of John, which is once more continued in vs. 36, specifically in the way this witness is distributed over three days (cf. vss. 29 and 35) so that the whole of it acquires a clear salvation-historical meaning. The conversation with the Jews is on the first day. On the third day John directs his disciples toward Jesus. So the middle day — with John face-to-face with Jesus as he walks toward him, without any input from others and at the apex of John's mission as it were — marks the division between the old and the new, between what is past and what is to come. What lies behind John and belongs to "yesterday" is the ministry in the temple with the "continual" daily offering of the lamb, a ministry performed by priests and Levites and limited to the sanctuary of Israel. What lies behind is also the law given through Moses, with its interpreters and scribes. What is to come on the new day is that which God, in his Son, now and once for all time, puts in place, and not only for Israel's sin but for the whole world's sin.

It is for that reason that on the third day the proclamation of the Lamb of God is repeated, now as the pivotal issue of the new dispensation being inaugurated here. At the same time the proclamation thus becomes the Baptist's last word, the utterance by which he also expressly directs his disciples away from himself and into the company of the coming one. His greatest day was, in a sense, his last. He brought salvation history to a boundary that he himself was not allowed to cross (cf. Mt. 11:11). All that was left for him to do was make room, to "decrease," to leave the scene (cf. 3:30). But for his disciples his last word on the third day is the first and foundational reference to the new era inaugurated for them and to their new worldwide horizon as the future agents of the ministry of reconciliation (2 Co. 5:18ff.).

1:35-51

Jesus' First Disciples: "Come and See"

The section that now follows forms the transition from the public ministry of John the Baptist to that of Jesus. It still belongs to the introduction of the actual gospel story insofar as it first, before proceeding to the account of Jesus' first public action (2: Iff.), tells the story of a number of encounters between Jesus and persons who were prepared to join him and who were later called his "disciples."

These stories have no parallels in the Synoptic Gospels. Scholars have compared them with the "call" stories in Mk. 1:16-20 and Mt. 9:9, and in part this comparison is valid (cf. 1:43). In any case, we learn here how the Gospel can later refer to Jesus' "disciples" (2: Iff.). It does not mean that the Evangelist was either ignorant or critical of the Synoptic "call" stories. He assumed, rather, that his readers were familiar with the main lines of the tradition according to which Jesus was accompanied by disciples from the beginning and that there were not five or six but twelve (6:67; 20:24), though this Gospel never lists their names or tells how most of them were called. Hence the encounters described here, by which Andrew, Peter, and Philip became disciples, are not to be viewed as "call" stories competing with Mk. 1:16ff.; 3:16 par., but rather as a report that the Fourth Evangelist edited for his own purpose and that goes back behind the "call" stories known from elsewhere.44 Only once does this Gospel mention Jesus calling someone (Philip in vs. 43), and we do read of the first two disciples "following" Jesus (vs. 38). For the most part the initiative does not come from Jesus; it comes either from the (future) disciples themselves or from those who themselves have already found Jesus and are now bringing others to him — Andrew bringing his brother Simon Peter and Philip bringing (his friend?) Nathanael.45

All this can give us a measure of insight into the Evangelist's purpose in giving these stories. We have three main points here: First, we see more clearly here than anywhere else the connections among John the Baptist, his disciples, and Jesus. Jesus' first followers are disciples of John and they follow Jesus at John's instigation. Here lies the confirmation of the datum — fixed and fundamental elsewhere in the New Testament but finding its historical clarification only here — that the apostolic tradition concerning Jesus Christ begins with the public ministry and baptizing activity of John (cf. Ac. 1:21, 22; 10:37, 39; 13:24, 26).

Second, it is of paramount importance that the ones brought on the scene here act not only as models of the later church's faith46 but also as witnesses of the revelation in Jesus Christ. They are those who are with Jesus "from the beginning" and as such are his witnesses (15:26); they represent the "we" of 1:14 not only as the first members of the church but also as its founders. As such they also constitute the salvation-historical transition from John as forerunner to Jesus as the coming one (see above). John placed them "on track": "Behold, the Lamb of God!" (vs. 36), but while he had to stay behind, they crossed the threshold of "the kingdom of heaven" (cf. Lk. 16:16); in Mt. 11:1 Iff. they no longer belong to the sowers but are among the reapers (cf. Jn. 4:37ff.).

But all this does not yet come explicitly into view here. What is of greatest importance here and what makes their witness fundamental for the whole coming church is expressed three times (twice in vs. 39, once in vs. 46) in the invitation "come and see," an invitation to see for themselves who Jesus is (cf. 1 Jn. l:lff.). They accept this invitation and immediately confess — in a variety of ways but unanimously nonetheless — Jesus as "the Anointed" (vs. 41), "him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote" (vs. 45), "the Son of God and the King of Israel" (vs. 49). It is this remarkable and in a sense overwhelming messianic confession of Jesus by his disciples that the Evangelist lays down as the foundation of his entire Gospel. He thus bases his work unambiguously on the foundation — common to the entire church — of the apostolic tradition, a reality that finds its confirmation no less explicitly in his definition of his Gospel's aim in words identical with those of the first witnesses: "that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that thus believing you may have life in his name" (20:31).47

And third, some have been astonished that in the Fourth Gospel, in distinction from other accounts, the disciples already at their first encounter come to make such positive and unrestrained pronouncements about Jesus' messiahship. That in turn has been viewed as proof that from the beginning the Evangelist put his christology into the disciples' mouths without taking account of the historical situation. One can, indeed, point to proleptic features (cf. vs. 42), but in these encounters what comes no less to expression — and is a recurrent and dominant motif in the entire Gospel — is that the messianic fulfillment in Jesus exceeds in a number of ways the expectation present in Israel. However immediately focused on Jesus as the Messiah the disciples' initial faith was — and that in response to the witness of John the Baptist — it was gradually and increasingly faced with a revelation of glory for which the traditional hope of salvation had neither adequate categories nor sufficient space beyond what is merely human. This comes out specifically in the pronouncement made to Nathanael at the close of ch. 1 and later extended to all the disciples — "You will see greater things than these" — and in the immediately following announcement of what they would see (vss. 50f.). It is the prospect of this glory, which was already described in the prologue as "that of the Father's only begotten," that was held out to the first witnesses and that was bound to shape their faith in Jesus as the Messiah further (cf. 2:11).

In this manner the Evangelist certainly also reflects what the church, in its ongoing struggle in relation to Jesus' messiahship, needed and would always need: a faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, a faith for which the standards could not be derived from traditional opinions or from ever-changing assumptions but only from the witness of the revelation of his glory in the flesh.

The story itself can best be divided into two parts: 1:35-42 and 1:43-51. The first part tells of the encounter of the two disciples of John with Jesus (vs. 37), immediately followed by the "winning" of Peter by his brother Andrew, one of the two. The second tells of the calling of Philip and, in close association with it, the "winning" of Nathanael. The harmony of the construction also appears from the striking similarity in diction between vss. 40f. and vs. 45. What we have here, then, is two stories of two encounters each, with the second of each pair (Peter and Nathanael) as the consequence of the first (Andrew and Philip).

Verses 35-37 mention first two disciples of John who at his direction follow Jesus. Their action "the next day" (see the comments on vss. 27-29) is shaped by their position as the link between John the Baptist and Jesus' circle of disciples. They are among those who heard John's repeated testimony, "Behold, the Lamb of God!" (vs. 36), and they are therefore expressly mentioned again in vs. 40 as "the two who heard John and followed Jesus." The report of their passing from John to Jesus is very graphic. That "next day" John again saw Jesus walking, not this time toward him, but still apparently for some reason spending time near him. John, then looking at Jesus, repeated his testimony of the day before, but this time obviously for the special benefit of the two disciples who were "standing" with him. And the two "heard him say this" and understood that he was not just repeating what he said earlier but was addressing them personally. And they "followed" Jesus, a statement full of content but at this point meaning simply that at John's direction they followed Jesus' walking.

38, 39 What follows is even more graphic. The encounter is described as a tentative and mutual examination ending with Jesus' invitation to accompany him to where he was staying and with a precise time indication. An eyewitness report could not be clearer in its description of what happened.

No less remarkable is that the entire story, however vivid, seems to confine itself totally to the "exterior" of the encounter. With some justification it has been said that it contains "all, apparently, facts of no particular importance; and yet the essential meaning of the narrative is hidden behind these events."48 To be sure, interpreters have with varying degrees of validity sought to give deeper, at least more "loaded," meanings to certain components of the story: first to the word "follow" in vs. 37 (see above) and then to Jesus' question, "What do you seek?"49 and the disciples' counterquestion, "Rabbi, where are you staying,"50 or more inclusively to the combination "follow . . . seek . . stay."51 These are attempts to give more content to the supposed exemplary character of this first encounter. But the question is whether the Evangelist wants to be understood in that fashion.

The most characteristic feature of the general character of these encounters seems to lie rather in the answer that Jesus gives to the question of the disciples: "Rabbi,52 where are you staying?"—namely: "Come and see" (vs. 39a), which is immediately echoed in their action (vs. 39b) and then repeated by Philip in vs. 46.53 By itself this combination of imperatives is not unusual, but here it functions as an invitation extended by Jesus himself to the two disciples to come and ascertain with their own eyes what they want to know about him. But it is striking that this "come and see" should at this point relate only to Jesus' place of residence and that the result of the entire encounter should twice be described in terms of "staying": "They came and saw where he was staying,54 and they stayed [that is, "dwelled"]55 with him that day." The narrative of this first encounter is concluded with the statement that it was "about the tenth hour." "All, apparently, facts of no particular importance," only the "exterior" of the events!

Only apparently, however. In connection with the repeated and therefore emphatic "come and see" this thrice-mentioned "staying," that is, "dwelling" (vs. 38, twice in vs. 39), does in fact acquire an importance that is strongly reminiscent of an essential element in the core pronouncement of the prologue in 1:14: "He dwelled among us." The unforgettable beginning for Jesus' first followers is precisely dated — down to the hour: Not only did they see that he lived among them and where he lived among them, but at his invitation they also stayed with him that day, and he spent time with them as a human among humans. So this encounter becomes the basis of all subsequent encounters in the sense that Jesus, though he was so much greater than John, nevertheless accepted them into the fellowship of his life and teaching.

And there is more to be said. However much this pericope is focused on "dwelling," it is striking that it ends there and that about that first encounter in Jesus' dwelling place not another word is said, neither of Jesus' self-revelation to them nor of their confession of him as the Christ. All this differs from what we learn of the subsequent encounters. That there was further discussion about who Jesus was is not only inherent in the situation itself but also evident from what Andrew said later: "We have found the Messiah!" (vs. 41). But this is merely an indirect statement about that first meeting and is intended as the introduction to and theme of what follows.

Furthermore, and no less striking, in this first report the identity of the two, though they are the first to follow Jesus, is kept hidden from the reader. The anonymity of one, Andrew, is lifted after the narrative as a way of introducing the second encounter (vs. 40). It is therefore all the more striking that the only person whose name remains unmentioned in all these encounters is that of Andrew's companion. The idea that the Evangelist did not know this person is unacceptable. Therefore, we can hardly avoid the conclusion that the anonymity is intentional. From ancient times it has been viewed as a clue that this unidentified first disciple was none other than the Evangelist himself, who for reasons of modesty wished to remain in the shadows. But most recent interpreters want nothing to do with such a close bond between Evangelist and eyewitness.56 Nevertheless, many are convinced that the Evangelist maintained the anonymity for a reason; and it is natural then to think of the likewise anonymous disciple "whom Jesus loved," who plays an important role in the Gospel from ch. 13 on.57 Whether this provides a clue to the authorship of the Fourth Gospel (cf. 21:24) is a question that cannot be resolved here but will have to be addressed later.

The idea that in the anonymous disciple of vss. 35ff. we are in fact dealing with the disciple whom Jesus loved is also interesting because it rests not just on the anonymity of both but also on the relationship of both to Peter. In Peter's first appearance in the Gospel he clearly comes second and has to learn the message of the Messiah from his brother Andrew and from Andrew's anonymous companion ("we," vs. 41). But Jesus immediately assigns to Peter the prominent place that he holds in the entire tradition. By comparison with him the anonymous disciple remains completely in the shadows, though it was he and Andrew who were the first to hear the "news" from John and to follow Jesus. Similarly, the disciple whom Jesus loved is in some respects repeatedly "ahead" of Peter (cf. 13:23; 20:4, 8; 21:7) but much less in the foreground than Peter.

If this resemblance is not accidental, then both the anonymity of Andrew's companion and the great sobriety with which — for all its vividness! — this first encounter is described come to stand in another light and in a wider context, and that all the more if one relates this account to 21:24. That this unnamed disciple was, along with Andrew, the first to follow Jesus could explain the special relationship between him and Jesus that gave him the name of "the disciple whom Jesus loved," though of course this point cannot be derived from what we have said with absolute certainty.

40 By way of introduction to the second encounter (see above) Andrew is named as one of the two who heard John speak and who followed Jesus. The description of Andrew as "Simon Peter's brother" (cf. also 6:8) assumes that the readers are more familiar with Peter than with Andrew. Some interpreters relate Andrew's prominence in the Fourth Gospel with a supposed tendency in Asia Minor to accord him (likewise Philip, mentioned in 6:5ff. and 12:22) a certain priority.58 But it is questionable whether, if he was such a familiar figure to the readers of the Gospel, Andrew would be introduced, and this more than once, as Simon Peter's brother. A more natural explanation would seem to be that the Evangelist himself was especially familiar with Andrew (and with Philip).

41 It is then further said of Andrew — without any time indication in order not to lose the connection with the preceding scene59 — that he "first" found his brother Simon and told him: "We have found the Messiah!" "First"60 has to be taken with the entire sentence and means that Andrew, before doing anything else,61 informed his brother Simon of what he and the other disciple had experienced. That he immediately sought out62 his brother can be considered natural and apparently assumes that Simon was in the neighborhood. Against this background we can perhaps also understand Andrew's enthusiastic exclamation, "We have found the Messiah!": He is communicating not a sudden discovery but an encounter with and the identification of the one whom John had already announced as being present among them (vs. 26). Therefore Andrew might expect his brother to give immediate credence to the exclamation.

Finally, special attention is called for by the way in which the Evangelist has Andrew describe Jesus with the Semitic term Messiah, which he then translates into Greek for his readers: "which means 'anointed.' " We find similar translations also in vss. 38 and 42. These Semitic terms make apparent both the Palestinian-Jewish background of the Gospel and that the Evangelist is addressing those among his Greek readers for whom this background still meant something, namely Hellenistic Jewish Christians (and Jews in general). This is true particularly of "Messiah," which the Evangelist — the only author in the New Testament to do so — uses here and in 4:25. Use of the term enables him to make clear to Hellenistic Christians — for whom "Christ" functioned simply as a proper name for Jesus — that this name was the translation of the Jewish title Messiah ("anointed one"), which played such a large role in Jewish eschatology as the designation for the one "of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote," as Philip puts it in vs. 45.

It is the anointed one of whom Andrew speaks to Peter and toward whom the Evangelist wants to direct the faith of his readers (cf. 20:31). This is also evident from the large place the messianic king occupies in this Gospel (vs. 49; 12:13; 18:36f.; 19:19ff.), partly to resist nationalistic and this-worldly messianic expectations present in Israel (cf. 6:15). Hence, on the basis of 1:41, it has been correctly emphasized that when the Evangelist states as the aim of his Gospel that his readers may "believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God" (20:31), he is not making the title "Christ" subordinate to "Son of God" but rather wants it understood in its full significance as referring to "the anointed one."63

42 Of Peter's reaction to Andrew's announcement we hear only that he let himself be brought to Jesus by his brother. The whole encounter is focused on the way in which Jesus approaches Peter and speaks to him. The pronouncement is very similar to the report of the giving of the same name in Mt. 16:17f. ("you are," and Simon's father's name is mentioned in both). It is striking here that, as in vs. 41, the Aramaic form of the name, Cephas, is used, which emphasizes all the more the meaning of the name Peter,64 and that Simon's father is called John here, not Jona as in Matthew. All this suggests that the Fourth Evangelist was using a separate early tradition.

The giving of the name means in this context primarily that, in virtue of his special knowledge of people (cf. vss. 47f.; 2:15, etc.), Jesus knew, when he saw Simon coming to him, what their relationship would be. There is no evidence that Jesus already knew Andrew and Simon. Like Philip, the two brothers came from Bethsaida, a city in Galilee (vs. 44). But that need not mean that Jesus knew them from earlier contacts. The words "looking at him" and the subsequent giving of the name mean not that Jesus recognized Simon but that he "read" him, so to speak.

The giving of the name involves not just a characterization of Simon as Peter, that is, as a rock of a man, a trustworthy person,65 but also his significance as a future disciple and apostle of Jesus, even though no further explication like that in Mt. 16:18 is given. For that reason it is proper to ask whether this first giving of the name is to be understood as a prediction.66 However this may be, the main thing is that here, at the very beginning of the Gospel, Peter is immediately presented as the "rock-man." Thus the Evangelist unmistakably brings out for the church the reliability of the apostolic witness — a reliability attested by Jesus — the historic foundations of which are laid bare here.

In vss. 43-50 we have the second pair of closely related encounters with Jesus, first that with Philip, then through Philip's mediation the one with Nathanael. Again there is mention of "the next day," apparently the day after the day introduced in vs. 35. Accordingly, the things narrated in vss. 35-39 and in vss. 40-42 must all have occurred on one day (see also the comments on vs. 41).

Verse 43 brings with it a number of problems. Who is the subject of vs. 43a: still Andrew, or Jesus? But Jesus is not mentioned until vs. 43c. Other scholars think that the text as we have it is based on changes made by the Evangelist and that originally the subject was either Andrew, who after "first" (vs. 41) finding Simon Peter then finds Philip, or Andrew's anonymous companion, who, after Andrew "as the first," finds Simon, then himself finds Philip.67 According to this view vs. 43b is not original. Others go still further,

considering all of vs. 43 secondary and identifying Philip, who is not mentioned until vs. 44, as himself the unnamed companion of Andrew from vs. 35.68 But this is all very hypothetical,69 and although not everything is equally clear, we will have to go by the text as it has been transmitted. The best evidence argues for thinking immediately of Jesus in vs. 43a.

The call of Philip is briefly described. It takes place on the following day, on which Jesus plans to leave for Galilee, though it is not altogether clear when and where Jesus encounters Philip. In view of vs. 44, it seems likely that Philip, Andrew, and Peter, all of them from Bethsaida, form one group, have gone together to John, and have become his disciples. When Jesus decides to go to Galilee (with his new followers: cf. 2:11), he sees in that grouping a good reason for inviting Philip also to join and follow him. That may also explain the plural Philip uses in speaking to Nathanael (vs. 45).

Like Andrew, Philip repeatedly comes to the fore in the Fourth Gospel (cf. 6:7; 12:21ff.; 14:8f.). The Evangelist here clearly draws his material from his own source, which enables him to write about these two in all this detail. But he does not pause to enlarge on the calling of Philip. Just as Andrew is important especially as a link to Peter (vs. 40), so Philip is important as a link to Nathanael.70 The story of this connection forms the conclusion and, in a sense, the climax of the whole pericope of vss. 35-51.

45 The parallel roles of Andrew and Philip are also reflected in the sentence construction of vss. 44 and 45, which conforms entirely to that of vss. 40 and 43. Here again "finding" means more than accidental encounter;71 rather, it represents a purposeful act of looking for and going to a person. It assumes a relationship of familiarity or friendship between the two as well as the desire of Philip to make Nathanael a fellow participant in that which possessed him ("we have found!").

Nathanael's name occurs only once more in the New Testament, in 21:2, where we learn that he came from Cana. It is not certain that he was one of the Twelve. In the course of time he has been identified with more than one of the men named in the lists of the apostles. The hypothesis most deserving of attention identifies him with Bartholomew, whose name follows that of Philip in all the lists except in Ac. 1:13. That would correspond with the present story, but is of course no proof.72 But the special place that Nathanael's encounter with Jesus and Jesus' subsequent utterance (vss. 50f.) occupy in the story leads one to suspect that from that moment on Nathanael followed Jesus along with the other four mentioned here and that he belonged to the circle of those always around Jesus from this point on.

It is not clear when and where Philip found Nathanael — already before the departure to Galilee or later in Galilee itself. Considering Nathanael's divergent, initially negative, attitude, one does not get the impression that he also belonged to the disciples of John. In any case, Philip did not find him in their company (vs. 48). For that reason it is very well possible that Philip found Nathanael in Cana, Nathanael's home and the place where Jesus was to perform his first great miracle.

Philip announces to Nathanael the great news similarly to the way in which Andrew announced it to Peter. The idea that the words "him of whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote" convey something more than the title "Messiah" and that they demonstrate a gradual deepening of insight on the part of the disciples73 is not persuasive. After all, with the one word "Messiah," that is, "anointed," Andrew had in mind no one other than he who was expected by Israel on the basis of Old Testament prediction.74 It is true that here the repeated "we have found" clearly has the added value of the "we" of the eyewitnesses on which the entire Gospel is based (1:14; 1 Jn. l:lff.).

46 As already mentioned, Philip's words encounter no little resistance in the mind of Nathanael, resistance evoked by the presentation of the announced bringer of salvation as "Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph." This is the first time that Jesus is described as such. In the nature of the case, Jesus' identity and place of origin could not remain unknown, certainly not to people from Galilee. But whereas this information presented no problems to the disciples who were called first, no doubt in part because of the testimony they had heard concerning Jesus from John, Nathanael apparently had to go by Philip's words alone. His objection concerned Nazareth as Jesus' place of origin (he does not mention Jesus' father); in this connection this suggests not that the town had a bad reputation but that it was considered totally insignificant. In raising the issue, Nathanael formulated what for many Jews was to remain an offense and a hindrance to the acknowledgment of Jesus as the Messiah. They not only did not generally expect a Messiah to come from Galilee (cf. 7:41, 52), but certainly least of all from Nazareth, a town mentioned nowhere in the Old Testament or in literature of Nathanael's time. "Can anything good be expected to come from such a place?" is Nathanael's condescending reaction to Philip's enthusiastic message.

Philip, undaunted, only answers: "Come and see." He does not engage Nathanael in discussion. Meeting Jesus himself would have to convince his friend. The expression "come and see" is characteristic for the entire pericope in vss. 35-51 (see the comments on vss. 39 and 51). Though this "seeing" does not by itself yield proof of Jesus' true identity, it is nevertheless the undeniable and unique privilege of those who were with Jesus "from the beginning." Reflected, above all, in this "seeing" is the manner in which the revelation of God in Jesus Christ has entered history in the "flesh." The seeing is, as such, part of the foundation of the later church. In that sense one can say that the "come and see" of vs. 39a, repeated in vs. 46, is of decisive importance as a motif for the thrust of the whole pericope.75

47 When Nathanael follows his friend and lets himself be taken to Jesus, we witness again what we saw in Jesus' encounter with Peter: At first "sight" (cf. vs. 42) Jesus "sees through" the person with whom he is meeting (cf. 2:25; 4:18ff.). This supernatural "knowing," which brings Nathanael to the confession that Jesus is the Son of God and prompts the Samaritan woman to acknowledge Jesus as a prophet, also occurs from time to time among "men of God" in the Old Testament (cf. 1 Sa. 9:19ff.). In the case of Jesus, however, it comes to the fore in all sorts of ways (cf., e.g., 11:4, 11-14), including with regard to his own future (cf. 3:14; 6:64, 70; 13:1, etc.). It constitutes apart of hi s plenary authority and his preparation as the one sent by the Father (cf., e.g., 3:34f.). Here, as in 4:18ff., it functions as a means to lead people who are still in the dark about Jesus to the discovery that before they knew him they themselves were already known by him: Their own attitude and life history or life secret were an open book to him. It is that discovery that pulls each of them up short and breaks through the wall that had been separating them from Jesus.

Jesus' statement about Nathanael, uttered as he sees Nathanael coming toward him, is very positive — despite Nathanael's initial skepticism: "Behold, truly an Israelite in whom there is no guile!" The adverb "truly," "in truth," goes with the entire statement and must not be taken, as so many interpreters do, as an adjective with "Israelite" ("Behold, a true Israelite").76 Nathanael is being described — on account of his faith — as a typical representative of the true ("spiritual," cf. Ro. 2:28ff.; 9:6, etc.) Israel.77 So the uniqueness of Nathanael is not that he is, in distinction from other Israelites, a true Israelite, but that he is "an Israelite in whom there is no guile." It is unlikely that "no guile" refers by anticipation to Nathanael's faith, of which he has given no evidence. Nor can it be an allusion to his reaction to Philip's message, which required no special honesty or sincerity. It is, therefore, a reflection of texts like Ps. 32:2 in which uprightness is closely bound up with a person's relationship to God (cf., e.g., Is. 50:9; 1 Pt. 2:22; Rv. 14:5). Thus the reference is not primarily to the true Israel but to the inner disposition associated with the knowledge of the true God as this is found in Israel. By thus welcoming Nathanael, Jesus ignores Nathanael's initial rejection of Philip's announcement and lays bare the pure disposition that nevertheless animates Nathanael.

48 Nathanael, feeling that Jesus "sees through" him and knows him, asks in perplexity how that can be. Jesus informs Nathanael further about this precognition: Before Philip called Nathanael, Jesus already saw him sitting under the fig tree. Did Nathanael's sitting under the fig tree occasion Jesus' favorable opinion of Nathanael? A long list of explanations have been advanced.78 All of them either (1) assume some special event under the fig tree not mentioned here but known to Jesus and Nathanael, (2) attribute a certain symbolic meaning to sitting under a fig tree (cf. Mi. 4:4; Zc. 3:10; Ho. 9:10), or (3) think of the fig tree as a place where a rabbi might study and teach.79 But all this is highly uncertain. The important thing is that by mentioning this concrete situation, one that Nathanael could verify, Jesus gave evidence of knowing Nathanael in advance. The phrase "before Philip called you"80 may mean that Jesus did not receive his knowledge from Philip. It seems more likely, however, that Jesus wants to convey that the calling of Nathanael was not just an act of Philip but that Jesus understood himself to be involved in Philip going to Nathanael (cf. 2 Ch. 5:26), who was thus one whose heart was upright before God, one of the "true worshipers" known and sought by God (cf. 4:24; 6:37, 45; 10:14, 27b).

49 For Nathanael the discovery that he was thus known by Jesus was so overwhelming that he gave up all resistance and, in the strongest language at his disposal, confessed Jesus as the Messiah. In that moment he understood that Philip had spoken the truth about Jesus. But we cannot regard his confession, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" as proof of deeper insight by comparison with what Andrew and Philip had already asserted. But it is true that under the enormous impact of Jesus' knowledge, Nathanael uttered his confession with the greatest possible emphasis and assurance ("You are . . . you are . . . !").

Both "Son of God," with which he acknowledges Jesus (whom he addresses as "Rabbi": cf. vs. 38), and "King of Israel" are intended — in line with Old Testament predictions and Jewish expectations — as messianic titles (cf. 2 Sa. 7:14; Ps. 2:7; Mt. 16:16; Ro. 1:4, etc.).81 The notion that here and elsewhere (cf. 20:31) "Son of God" completely overshadows "King/Messiah," thus proving that in Johannine christology the typically Jewish categories are blurred, is in conflict with all that has preceded in vss. 35ff. (see the comments on vs. 41), which in fact depicts all these initial encounters in colors derived from Old Testament and Jewish future expectation.82 However much the fulfillment in the coming of Christ surpasses that expectation (see also the comments on vss. 50, 51) and, specifically, pushes the Sonship of Christ back to "the Beginning," this does not mean that in the Fourth Gospel "Son of God" has acquired an exclusively ontological significance abstracted from its "official" messianic meaning. Accordingly, in this connection "Son of God" and "King of Israel" have the same meaning, and the movement from the first to the second is not anticlimactic.83

Conversely, it is no less incorrect, on the basis of this second title, "King," to ascribe to Nathanael a national-political view and with that to think that Jesus has called Nathanael, in a deprecatory sense, a real and unadulterated Jew ("a blunt and guileless Israelite," vs. 47) and is about to correct rather than accept Nathanael's confession (vss. 50f.).84 It is true that vis-à-vis the crowd in 6:15 and before Pilate in 18:15f. Jesus will reject every worldly understanding of his kingship, but this does not mean that the messianic title "King of Israel" or "King of the Jews" has in the Fourth Gospel an exclusively negative sound (cf. 12:13; 19:19ff.). The witness to Jesus as the messianic king is part of the inalienable content of the Fourth Gospel, just as faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, understood in that same sense, belongs to the undeniable goal of the Fourth Gospel (20:31).85 It is this very content and faith that the story of these first encounters intends to undergird with its witness.

50, 51 Still, all that has been said till now and has been "seen" by each of these disciples in their first encounters with Jesus is only a beginning of what is to come. However persuaded they are in those first encounters that Jesus is the Messiah, the content of that confession will prove to be much greater than they have been able to comprehend. That is the essence of Jesus' reaction to Nathanael's confession. Whether vs. 50 is a question or an observation is uncertain but of little consequence. The main thing is that Nathanael will not be able to stop at what has impressed him thus far, which is that Jesus knew and understood him before he knew Jesus. He is to see greater things.

The promise of that greater future is made to Nathanael ("and he said to him"), but it is immediately extended in a solemn manner to all: "Truly, truly I say to you. . . ." In the New Testament the double "amen!" occurs only in John, and there only in the mouth of Jesus. For many scholars this unique use of "amen" constitutes proof that words thus introduced belong to the most authentic tradition.86 The word thus uttered with great solemnity constitutes the conclusion of what precedes as well as the emphatic announcement of what is about to be realized. Some interpreters believe, and here the second introduction at the beginning of vs. 51 is taken as evidence, that the pronouncement in vs. 51 comes from another context.87 However this might be, it cannot be denied that in the present context, in what follows as well as what precedes, the pronouncement is very appropriate. After all the testimonies and confessions concerning Jesus' messiahship from others, Jesus for the first time speaks about himself.88

And here it becomes evident that the belief that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, will acquire a content that can no longer be expressed in the traditional messianic terms but far surpasses them. Jesus gives expression to this by speaking of himself in the third person, and hence entirely in keeping with his use of this title "Son of man" both in this Gospel and in the Synoptics. He uses the title, in accord with its origin in Dn. 7:13ff., of him who, clothed by God with heavenly glory, is to exercise God's rule on earth. The use of this title at the beginning of Jesus' self-revelation is of special importance for the understanding of the entire Gospel. Together with "Christ" and "Son of God" it forms the foundation of that revelation. This self-designation is an expression of the utterly transcendent character of Jesus' messiahship and functions thus as an alternative to "Son of God." The two titles are used together repeatedly with no clear distinction or transition (cf. 3:13-15 with 3:16 and 3:3 Iff.; 5:26, 27; 6:62; 12:23 with 12:28; 17: Iff.).

In the vision in Daniel 7 the appearance of the Son of man is depicted as a theophany: The Son of man is to "come on the clouds of heaven," words used elsewhere only of God. The phrase "one like a son of man" does not point to human origin but rather suggests a humanly recognizable form in the manifestation of divine glory (cf. Ezk. 1:26b, 28b). At the same time this Son of man is he to whom is given (by "the Ancient of Days") divine glory and unlimited kingship. In this respect Daniel 7 reminds one of the divine characteristics attributed elsewhere in the Old Testament to the messianic king as coregent and son of God (cf. Is. 9:1-6; 2 Sa. 7:14; Pss. 2:7ff.; 110). But the way in which Daniel 7 speaks of the Son of man far surpasses those features. To be sure, the Son of man is also distinguished from God ("The Ancient of Days"), but his appearance on the clouds and his divine "glory" and possession of unlimited power impart to his kingship an absolutely transcendent character.89

Although the use of the title Son of man in the Fourth Gospel needs to be examined on its own merits90 and though it evidently made an enigmatic impression on those who heard Jesus use it,91 in this first announcement of Jesus to Nathanael its general thrust already comes significantly to the fore. As in 3:14f., the pronouncement about the Son of man is linked with a high point in the history of salvation, namely, Jacob's vision at Bethel, where both the continuity and the unanticipated progress and fulfillment of God's saving work in history find expression.

The opening words, "You will see heaven opened," cannot, to be sure, be traced back to an equivalent statement in the story of Jacob (though there is mention there of "the gate of heaven"); rather, they belong to the apocalyptic language in which use of "Son of man" is often clothed (cf. Ac. 7:56; Mt. 26:64 par.; Jn. 6:62, etc.). This "seeing," however, is bound up with images from Jacob's dream. The story of Jacob's dream describes a ladder set on earth and with its top reaching to heaven. At the top of the ladder stands the Lord, who in the uncertain situation in which Jacob finds himself confirms — by this vision and by the oracle associated with it — the promise made to Abraham, and then promises Jacob divine protection on the way he must go (cf. Ps. 91:11). The pronouncement in Jn. 1:51 does not mention the ladder. It is, rather, the Son of man himself who links heaven and earth, while the angels who ascend and descend on him (as on the ladder in Jacob's vision)92 represent the heavenly powers at his disposal. But whereas elsewhere angels are attributes of the heavenly existence of the Son of man (cf. Mt. 13:41, 49; 24:30, 31; 25:31ff.), the special character of their action here is that they maintain the link with heaven for the Son of man on earth (cf. Mt. 26:53; Mk. 1:13; Lk. 22:43). The author specifically has in mind here — as is evident also from the "greater things" promised to Nathanael — the divine glory manifest in his descent as that of the incarnate Word ( 1:14; 2:11 ; 11:40; 17:14). From now on the disciples will be witnesses of that glory and will become conscious, as they join and follow him, of being under the "opened" heaven. Accordingly, the statement is not related, as some interpreters would have it,93 to one specific event in the life of Jesus (e.g., the transfiguration) but much more to the continuing — and from now on intermittently visible — glory present in Jesus' self-revelation in words and works and in his constant communion with the Father (cf. 8:29; 12:28ff.).

Our text clearly alludes to Jacob's vision, but it contains no explicit reference to Jacob himself. Nor does Jacob fulfill in his story in Genesis 28 the role attributed here to the Son of man.94 The angels did not ascend and descend on him. He was not the bearer of the heavenly power but, like the disciples here, the one whose eyes were opened to that power in the vision granted him. Still, we are certainly not dealing here, any more than in similar allusions (cf. 3:14f.), with imagery arbitrarily borrowed from the Old Testament. Jacob received this vision, as we learn from the divine oracle associated with it in Genesis 28, as the bearer of the promise to Abraham and thus as one of the great witnesses to the God of the Old Testament. Hence, as we noted earlier, we see in the Fourth Gospel both salvation-historical continuity and subordination of the sacred past to the coming of Jesus Christ, which transcends that entire past. What Jacob saw and heard as Israel's patriarch and as the bearer of the divine promise is what from now on the disciples will see and hear in full bloom as witnesses called by Jesus and founders of the coming church — in the glory of the Son of man. In that "seeing" they will therefore be those whom Jesus elsewhere calls "blessed" because they have seen and heard what many prophets and righteous people longed to see and hear but did not (Mt.

13:17) — and that not only for the edification of their own faith but as persons involved together in the ("eschatological") time of salvation now dawning.

Other interpreters see something very different underlying "the ascent and descent of the angels of God" here, namely, the ascent to the Son of man and the descent onto95 the Son of man — two figures that need to be distinguished. The first is the Son of man in his heavenly glory; the second his appearance in the flesh. What Jesus promises his disciples is said to exist in seeing the connection between the two in their interaction with him, a "seeing" that is also a participation on their part in the heavenly world as a spiritual (mystical?) vision.96

But this view has two fundamental flaws. In the first place, there is no basis in the Fourth Gospel whatever for the simultaneous existence of a heavenly Son of man and an earthly Son of man. On the contrary, the motif that governs the entire Johannine view of the Son of man is precisely that the heavenly Son of man descended from the place "where he was before" (cf. 6:62) and that only by way of that descent could he later ascend and impart life to humanity (see the comments on 3:13f.; 6:27, 53, etc.). Secondly, as is evident from the entire context of which vs. 51 is the conclusion and climax, "you will see heaven opened" refers not to personal experiences of the heavenly world in which the disciples are to take part "in the spirit," but to their witnessing the glory of the descended Son of man as the glory of God in the flesh. In this respect one can say that "you will see" constitutes the climax of the motif that governs the coming of the disciples to Jesus in this entire pericope: "come and see"; and thus that the last word of the introduction to the gospel story brings to expression, in one all-embracing salvation-historical pronouncement, the theme of the story that now follows.

The Wedding at Cana

2 The next day[a] there was a wedding celebration in the village of Cana in Galilee. Jesus’ mother was there, 2 and Jesus and his disciples were also invited to the celebration. 3 The wine supply ran out during the festivities, so Jesus’ mother told him, “They have no more wine.”

4 “Dear woman, that’s not our problem,” Jesus replied. “My time has not yet come.”

5 But his mother told the servants, “Do whatever he tells you.”

6 Standing nearby were six stone water jars, used for Jewish ceremonial washing. Each could hold twenty to thirty gallons.[b] 7 Jesus told the servants, “Fill the jars with water.” When the jars had been filled, 8 he said, “Now dip some out, and take it to the master of ceremonies.” So the servants followed his instructions.

9 When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine, not knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants knew), he called the bridegroom over. 10 “A host always serves the best wine first,” he said. “Then, when everyone has had a lot to drink, he brings out the less expensive wine. But you have kept the best until now!”

11 This miraculous sign at Cana in Galilee was the first time Jesus revealed his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

12 After the wedding he went to Capernaum for a few days with his mother, his brothers, and his disciples.

Jesus Clears the Temple

13 It was nearly time for the Jewish Passover celebration, so Jesus went to Jerusalem. 14 In the Temple area he saw merchants selling cattle, sheep, and doves for sacrifices; he also saw dealers at tables exchanging foreign money. 15 Jesus made a whip from some ropes and chased them all out of the Temple. He drove out the sheep and cattle, scattered the money changers’ coins over the floor, and turned over their tables. 16 Then, going over to the people who sold doves, he told them, “Get these things out of here. Stop turning my Father’s house into a marketplace!”

17 Then his disciples remembered this prophecy from the Scriptures: “Passion for God’s house will consume me.”[c]

18 But the Jewish leaders demanded, “What are you doing? If God gave you authority to do this, show us a miraculous sign to prove it.”

19 “All right,” Jesus replied. “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.”

20 “What!” they exclaimed. “It has taken forty-six years to build this Temple, and you can rebuild it in three days?” 21 But when Jesus said “this temple,” he meant his own body. 22 After he was raised from the dead, his disciples remembered he had said this, and they believed both the Scriptures and what Jesus had said.

Jesus and Nicodemus

23 Because of the miraculous signs Jesus did in Jerusalem at the Passover celebration, many began to trust in him. 24 But Jesus didn’t trust them, because he knew all about people. 25 No one needed to tell him about human nature, for he knew what was in each person’s heart.

 Basic commentary on John 2

Commentary on John 2

Surprised by Jesus

The ministry of Jesus was full of surprises. Jesus is constantly calling you to go deeper in your life with him. He wants to surprise you in new ways

1. 1. Surprising abundance
      
      Some might be surprised that not only were Jesus and his disciples invited to parties (like this wedding banquet), they actually accepted and went along. At that time, wedding feasts lasted about a week. They were times of great revelry and rejoicing – where people put on their best clothes, rejoiced, sang, danced, joked, laughed and had fun. Perhaps what is even more surprising is that rather than condemning those drinking wine, Jesus transformed over 120 gallons of bath water into the very best wine (v.10). Jesus does things abundantly. He wants to give you more and more life and joy.
      
      Simply letting Jesus know what the problem was (‘They have no more wine’, v.3) and then following his instructions (‘do whatever he tells you’, v.5) led to this surprising miracle. Jesus not only answered the need, but he answered it beyond anything they could have expected or even imagined. The master of the banquet was surprised when he ‘tasted the water that had been turned into wine’ (v.9).
      
      This is also true in our own lives; Jesus turns the water of life without him into the wine of life with him. I thought that following Jesus would mean a life that was ‘watered down’. In fact, it is the very opposite. Jesus constantly surprises us by how he enriches our lives. In particular, we see here how he enriches weddings and, indeed, marriages. He can turn the water of an ordinary marriage into the wine of an enriched one.
      Jesus transforms drudgery and dreariness into fullness of joy.
      Through this miracle Jesus ‘revealed his glory, and his disciples put their faith in him’ (v.11). For many this must have been a very surprising revelation.

1. 1. Surprising passion
      Jesus amazed everybody when he went into the temple courts and found people selling cattle, sheep and doves and others at tables exchanging money: ‘The loan sharks were also there in full strength’ (v.14, MSG).
      
      He made a whip of cords and drove them all out of the temple area. He said, ‘Get your things out of here! Stop turning my Father’s house into a shopping mall’ (v.16, MSG). His disciples remembered the words, ‘Zeal for your house will consume me’ (v.17).
      
      We are surrounded by commercialism and seductive images. Huge shopping centres are replacing churches. There is a danger of worshipping money and commerce.
      
      There was a terrible temptation then, as there is now, for money-making to interfere with the worship of God. Of course, there is a practical side of worship, both in the temple and in churches today. However, when the object of our focus becomes money, we are in serious trouble. Jesus surprised people by how passionate he was about this.

1. 1. Surprising dwelling
      Jesus redefines the temple. Jesus’ body is the true temple. Jesus says to them, ‘Destroy this temple, and I will raise it again in three days’ (v.19). The true temple will be destroyed, but God will rebuild it again in three days, through the resurrection. They are surprised and cannot understand this – they ask Jesus how on earth he thinks he can rebuild this temple in a mere three days. But John adds, ‘the temple he had spoken of was his body’ (v.21).
      
      The temple was important because it was the symbolic dwelling place of God. It was where God and humanity met. These surprising words of Jesus show us that he himself is the new temple. He is the dwelling place of God on earth.
      
      Through Jesus, you are now called to be the home, the dwelling place of God. Your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 6:19).

1. 1. Surprising wisdom
      
      When people saw the miracles Jesus performed and what he was doing, many ‘believed in his name’ (John 2:23). ‘But,’ John tells us, ‘Jesus would not entrust himself to them, for he knew all people. He did not need human testimony about them, for he knew what was in people’ (vv.24–25).
      
      It is surprising to read that Jesus did not immediately trust these people – especially when we read that love ‘always trusts’ (1 Corinthians 13:7). Jesus is realistic about human nature. We tend to look for the perfect spouse, perfect parents, perfect children, perfect friends, perfect leaders and the perfect church. But these don’t exist. All of us are flawed human beings.
      
      Recognising this helps us to be more realistic and less disappointed, and more forgiving in our relationships.
      
      We need the wisdom of Jesus in our dealings and in our relationships. We need to balance openness and loving trust with the wisdom and understanding of the human heart.

Lord, thank you for Jesus. Help me to fix my eyes on him today, so he can surprise me afresh with his wisdom, passion, love and abundance.

 Click here to expand...

From Cana to Cana:

The Revelation of Jesus' Glory

Although various divisions of the Fourth Gospel are possible and have been used in the commentaries,1 it seems to me proper, after what may be considered the introduction (1:1-18) and the preparation (1:19-51), to regard ch. 2 as the beginning of the real story of Jesus' self-revelation as it is described in the Fourth Gospel. A clear indication that this is so occurs in 2:11, which describes the miracle at Cana as "the beginning of the signs" that Jesus did. The main division that begins with 2:1 continues to the end of ch. 4, where a new break becomes visible. Important indications of the correctness of this division are that chs. 5 and 6 form a new unity and that the conclusion of ch. 4 returns to Cana (cf. 4:54), thus concluding this first great cycle, which begins at Cana, proceeds via Capernaum to Jerusalem, and thence returns via Samaria to Cana.

We are dealing here not only with an initial geographic outline of Jesus' public ministry but also with an important initial characterization of that ministry: The beginning lies in the inconsequential region of Galilee, where the glory of the Son of man takes shape in the miracle of the abundance of wine (2:1-12). From there the line runs to Jerusalem, the center of Israel's national and religious life, which Jesus as it were seizes at the heart in the cleansing of the temple, in the claim he lays on it as the house of his Father — and all this at one of the great feasts (2:13ff.) — and in his first encounter with Nicodemus. Nicodemus appears here as a representative of the Jewish government and scribal learning. Jesus confronts him with the necessity — which applies to everyone — of "being born from above" (3: Iff.). With this there is the first great testimony concerning the "heavenly things," that is, the descent of the Son of man (3:11, 13ff., 31ff.). In ch. 4 follows the story of a very different but no less characteristic encounter,2 namely that with the Samaritan woman (4:4ff.). Then there is the conversation between Jesus and his disciples about the harvest time that has begun (4:3 Iff.) and the arrival of the people of Samaria who confess him as "the Savior of the world." This first great orienting cycle is then concluded with Jesus' return to Cana in Galilee and the second miracle there (4:43ff.; cf. vs. 54). This second miracle, as we shall see, at the same time forms the link with the following section in chs. 5 and 6.

Various attempts have been made to characterize chs. 2-A more specifically. In discussion of the prologue we have already noted the view3 according to which 1:35-4:42 is the elaboration of vs. 3 of the prologue (Christ as re-creator), while in chs. 4:43 through ch. 6 and chs. 7-9, respectively, vs. 4 and vss. 4f. of the prologue are further explicated. But however much the prologue manifests itself again and again in these chapters (cf., e.g., 3:19) — as in the entire Gospel — nevertheless such a schematic elaboration of its content in the text of chs. 2-4 (and 5-9) cannot be demonstrated.

Others look for the main line of 2:1-4:54 in the different reactions to Jesus' conduct seen there.4 Although these reactions do furnish an important perspective for the intent of the whole (see the comments below on 3: 1ff.), they do not provide the key to the understanding of the overall thrust of chs. 2-4. The (over)schematization of these reactions in this understanding of their significance is too artificial and forced to be credible, and the revelation of Jesus' glory itself and not the reactions to it constitutes the all-controlling viewpoint from which these chapters are to be understood.

Here, in the first great cycle of the story, the contours of all the great themes that dominate this entire Gospel become visible — namely, the focus on the person of Jesus and the ("eschatological") "hour" of the promised time of salvation. That hour has begun and has become present in him; it consists in the breaking of the boundaries established till now in the law of Moses, and it is revealed in the transcendent glory of the Messiah of Israel as the Son of man descended from heaven and as the Son of God sent by the Father. It is on the basis of this absolute significance of Jesus as the Christ and the Son of God that the critical and imperishable importance of the salvation granted by him comes to the fore in the words concerning the birth from above without which no one can enter the kingdom of God and of eternal life, which already in the present is possessed by those who believe in the Son. In this context, then, the various reactions of those who hear Jesus have their significance, though only in tentative fashion, while the antithesis that marks the later dialogues with "the Jews" still has not yet fully surfaced.

One can thus say that in chs. 2-4 the foundations are laid and the contours emerge that, ever more explicitly and intensively, determine the construction of all that follows.

2:1-11

The Wedding in Cana

This story ties in chronologically and materially with the preceding story, specifically with 1:50. The events occur "on the third day" (2:1) after the events narrated in 1:43-51 and make a start with what, in l:50f., Jesus had offered in prospect as "greater things." The role of Jesus' disciples as witnesses of his glory (1:14, 51) and thus as founders of the coming church (cf. 20:31) is here initially but emphatically confirmed (2:11).

From the beginning the story of the wedding at Cana, partly as a result of its dominant place in the Gospel, has enjoyed special attention and been interpreted in the most divergent ways, often symbolically, sometimes allegorically.5 Others have gone further and completely abstracted the miracle recounted here — as well as those to come — from history and viewed it as a story told to give expression to certain notions of faith. Still others believe that the Evangelist drew his miracle stories from a specific miracle (Sēmeia) source in which all the emphasis lay on the value of the miracles as evidence, though he himself is said to have assumed a much more ambivalent attitude to miracles, a fact that is supposed to be manifest in the way in which he has edited or supplemented the miracle stories. He is said to have regarded only, or at least primarily, the spiritual significance that he ascribed to the miracles as valid.6

Whatever we think about the factuality of the miracles and however we spiritualize their significance, it is certain that by denying their historical significance or casting a shadow on them we do not do justice to the Evangelist's intention. This is immediately evident from the conclusion of the first story, where the Evangelist himself describes the miracle as the "revelation" of Jesus' glory. He thus echoes 1:14, where he described the glory of the only-begotten Son as having become visible in its existence as flesh, as human. Any suggestion that in the Fourth Gospel one can separate "flesh" and "glory," history and revelation, violates the most specific aspect of that Gospel's character. Miracle is neither parabolic story nor symbolic action. This will become evident in all sorts of ways, for example, when Jesus speaks of his "signs"7 as proof and witness that he has been sent by the Father (5:31, 36ff.) and, at the end of his dialogue with the Jews, precisely with a view to his miracles, he says "If I am not doing my Father's works, then do not believe me. But if I do them (as you cannot deny), even though you do not believe me, believe the works" (10: 37f.). Thus it is far from the truth to say that the miracles Jesus did do not play a decisive role in the christology of the Fourth Gospel.

But this does not mean that exegesis can end with mere acknowledgment of miracle as such, as supernatural event. This Gospel itself explicitly opposes that notion (cf. 2:23ff.; 4:48, etc.), and does so so emphatically that by comparison with passages like 10:37ff. some scholars think they must speak of a certain ambivalence toward miracle in the Fourth Gospel. Whatever we think of this last point,8 a distinctive of the Fourth Gospel is its repeated linking of miracles with lengthy conversations focused on the meaning of the miracles in the framework of Jesus' self-revelation as the Christ, the Son of God (so chs. 5, 6, 9, and 11). If one fails to see that connection and hence also the deeper spiritual significance of the miracles, then one has not "seen" the signs (6:26), and faith that rests solely on miracle "as such" has fundamentally forfeited its claim to that name (cf., e.g., 2:23ff.; 3:2 with 3:1 If.; 4:48).

All this, in keeping with the Evangelist's intention, confronts the interpreter with a double demand: on the one hand, to explain the miracle within a specific historical context, on the other to explain its intent within the framework of Jesus' entire self-revelation. Scholars have often fallen short of this herme-neutical goal in interpreting this passage — where there is no interpreting dialogue, unlike most other miracle stories, and the interpretation of the miracle is thus on its own, so to speak.

The symbolic interpretation of this miracle has taken possession in such a way that the historical context of the miracle is either completely ignored or totally abandoned — for example, when scholars seek to understand it merely as a text form in which faith in the resurrection of Jesus is symbolically expressed.9 It has been easy to exchange the identification of the form for interpretation of the text. To the degree that the "theological" or "symbolic" interpretation asserts itself, to that degree the form of the text (which presents itself as historical) must surrender more of its rights and must be interpreted ultimately as a distinct literary genre.

But the cure for this disease cannot consist in the total elimination of every kind of symbolic interpretation of Jn. 2:1-11 and in saying, for instance, that one must be satisfied with what is "natural" and seek the meaning of the miracle solely in Jesus' beneficent significance for daily life and in his power to bring about change in every situation of life.10 By doing so one too radically isolates the miracle at Cana and runs the danger of succumbing to the error of those who became fixated on the bread in ch. 6 and were told by Jesus that they "had not seen the signs" and should not work for the food that perishes but for the food that endures to enternal life (6:26f.).

Undoubtedly it is not always easy to mark the boundaries here.11 Exegesis will always have to defend itself before the text and in light of the character of the Fourth Gospel. The secret of the text and its explanation, then, prove to lie, not in the skill with which the author supposedly conceals all sorts of deeper truths, but rather in how in this fundamentally sober narrative he highlights certain details of the historical situation above other details — no less interesting to us — that remain in the shadows or are left unmentioned as apparently irrelevant to the thrust of the narrative.

1, 2 The dating, "and on the third day," with which the story begins, is a test case for all that we have said about the story so far. Some scholars believe that it is rooted in the confession that "Jesus is the Christ" in that "the third day" alludes to the day of resurrection and marks "salvation from the predicament of death."12 But in two respects this interpretation ignores what may be considered especially characteristic of the Fourth Gospel. First, it apparently understands the "glory" of Christ as referring from the beginning to Jesus' future exaltation, whereas in this Gospel we are above all dealing with the glory of the incarnate Word, that is, with the revelation of the glory (brought "down" from heaven, as it were) of the only begotten of the Father. And second, it wrenches the words "on the third day" out of the retrospective historical context in which the Evangelist obviously intends them to be understood.

There is, therefore, more plausibility in the attempt to link the "days" of ch. 1 (vss. 29, 35, 43) with the "day" of 2:1 to form a connected whole by adding them up. But this, too, poses large problems.

The outcome is a period of six days in 1:29-42 (or seven if we assume an additional day distinct from that of vs. 35 in vss. 40-4213). Thus one comes in 2:1 to the seventh day and can thus speak of "the Johannine week of introduction."14 And one can, of course, link this with a symbolic interpretation — according to some a parallel to the week of creation (cf. 1 : l),15 according to others a designation of the day in 2:1 as "the day of the Lord, the day of the Epiphany."16

Others, however, advance numerous objections to this notion of a creation week: "The sixth day, the high point of the days of creation in Genesis 1, is conspicuous by its absence. The seventh day ... the day on which God 'rested,' now becomes a wedding day on which Jesus gives orders to fill six jars with five to seven hundred liters of water. . . ,"17 Furthermore, in 2:1 a new beginning is made, which can hardly be intended as the last day of the first week. And John 1 itself already embraces seven days, 1:1-18 being the first day, "the day on which light shone in the darkness." 2:1 thus speaks of the eighth day, the first day of a new week, the day of "the first of the signs." Thus one comes to a distinction between "the two first Sundays" in 1:1-18 and 2:1-11.18

But the artificiality of all this is obvious: 1:1-18 is clearly not a first week; it is the prologue that precedes the story, that is, the days. And we can hardly interpret as the first day of the new week what 2:1 calls "the third day." If on top of all this we also have to factor in the prescriptions of the Talmud according to which wedding days were restricted to certain days,19 then the whole picture becomes even more complicated.

In view of these rather dubious constructions one has to face the question whether the Evangelist, if he in fact wanted us to engage in all this "counting," could not have furnished us with less ambiguity.20 We therefore take the position that there is not sufficient ground to ascribe to "the third day" any other meaning than that it serves to establish a direct historical and material connection between the story that follows and what has taken place two days earlier between Jesus and Nathanael.

The same sort of questions arise in connection with the place indication, "Cana in Galilee." The name Cana has from ancient times been translated as "ownership, possession," and scholars have linked with this the idea that in the Fourth Gospel Jesus' disciples are called "his own" (cf. 1:1 Off.; 4:44; 10:Iff.; 13:lff.). In Cana, Jesus' possession, the true people of God, becomes manifest (cf. vs. 11). The addition "in Galilee" is said to confirm this because in John Galilee is the birthplace of the new people of God. What we are said to have here is a transition, one that is also visible in wine made of water from Jewish water jars.21

The text itself, however, furnishes not a single point of contact for such an explanation of "Cana." The case is rather that here — as with the time indication — it is the narrative in 1:46-51 that gives to the place indication more than merely geographic significance. Like Nazareth, Cana is an insignificant place in Galilee, one from which, in Nathanael's opinion, nothing good can be expected. Still it is precisely this "Cana in Galilee" (which it is called again in vs. 11) — the place, moreover, where Nathanael himself came from! (21:2) — where the revelation of Jesus' glory begins. Undoubtedly this place indication bore considerable meaning for the Evangelist: the first main division of the gospel story begins and ends in Cana, and the end explicitly recalls the beginning and emphasizes Cana's location in Galilee (4:43ff., 54). This is clearly done not with any idea that in Cana Jesus' "possession," the true people of God, becomes visible (cf. 4:44) but rather that, against all expectation (cf. 7:52), the starting point of Jesus' public activity lay in the despised region of Galilee (see the comments below on 4:54).

As to the wedding that took place on the third day at Cana, at this point we learn only that the mother of Jesus was there and that Jesus and his disciples had also been invited. The extreme sobriety with which the situation is thus depicted at once discourages as irrelevant any attempt — no less frequently made for all that — to give it somewhat more historical, biographical, or psychological color. Nathanael came from Cana (cf. 21:2), and we may conjecture that that was the reason Jesus and his disciples came to the wedding.22 The words "his disciples" obviously refer to the persons mentioned in ch. 1; here already we have the general expression that elsewhere in the Gospel refers to the twelve known from tradition (cf. 6:67; 20:19, 24). They play no role in the story, however important their presence as witnesses was both for themselves and for the later church (cf. vs. 11).

3 As a result of this lack of detail, the presence of Jesus' mother and the conversation she conducts with Jesus has received all the more attention. Her name is not mentioned; only her relationship to Jesus is important. What she says to Jesus, "they have no wine," is the first thing the Evangelist says about the wedding feast. It is evident from Jesus' negative response that Mary thus appeals to him for help. Her directions to the servants in vs. 5 shows that she has unlimited confidence in his capacity to provide that help. How she could entertain such confidence in her son's abilities is not explained. The Evangelist evidently assumes that his readers knew enough of Mary and her unique involvement in Jesus' person and work to be able to understand such an initiative on her part. In any case, it is that special relationship and that knowledge of Jesus' "secret" that enables Mary to fulfill a role in the story that emphasizes the nature of Jesus' action and self-revelation.23

4 But it does so negatively because Jesus — not without some sharpness — rejects her (indirect) appeal to him as invasive of his responsibility and hence as not pertinent: "Woman, what have I to do with you? My hour has not yet come." In the social context of the time the address "woman" was in itself certainly not hard or impolite (cf. Mt. 15:28; Lk. 13:12; Jn. 4:21; so also in other Greek writings). But as the address of a son to his mother it is not common and may seem distant and impersonal. It is true that on another occasion, when there could be no question of such distance, Jesus again addressed his mother as "woman" (19:26).

But here this form of address is accompanied by rejection: "What have I to do with you?" The expression is Semitic and occurs often in situations in which failing to mind one's own business, so to speak, is considered objectionable.24 Although in itself it need not contain anything offensive, materially it has the intent of a sharp reprimand. The fact that Jesus addresses it to his mother serves to show therefore how much is at stake for him here. And it is precisely in regard to her that he had to observe sharply the boundaries of his authority (cf. Lk. 2:49f.).

In that connection "my hour has not yet come" is of special importance. The saying occurs over and over in John (cf. 7:30; 8:20; 12:23; 13:1; cf. 16:21; 17:1; cf. also 7:6, 8). As a rule the coming of this "hour" refers to the beginning of Jesus' suffering, his going to the Father, his glorification, and many interpreters understand it thus here. Some think particularly of the hour of Jesus' death and regard the subsequent miracle as a sign of the forgiveness of sin through Jesus' blood.25 But Jesus' "hour," as a reference to the end of his earthly career, embraces the fullness of his glory, of which his death is only a part. Others, therefore, think that "the hour" in 2:4 refers to all this future glory.

This hour never came during the life of Jesus, and in vs. 1 lb there is said to be only prophetic mention of Jesus' glory. In this way the Evangelist is said to have warned his readers that the full significance of Jesus' glory must be sought not in his miracles but in his subsequent glorification by the Father.26

But all this pays too little attention to the setting of the saying here. It is hard to see what a reference to the hour of Jesus' departure could mean as a reply to Mary's appeal for help. After all, she did not in fact have to wait that long before Jesus acted. The reference here is not to the hour of Jesus' departure but to the hour of the beginning, of the breakthrough of the revelation of his glory on earth and in the flesh, and it is therefore arbitrary, in my opinion, to speak of vs. 11 as an anticipation of Jesus' future exaltation. All that is at issue here is that Jesus cannot seize this hour, that is, this beginning, beforehand — even if his own mother urges him to do so.

This is not to say that for every deed Jesus had to wait, as it were, for a certain cue from God; rather, that he was conscious that the great moment at which the Father called him to this revelation of glory had not yet come. Hence what comes sharply to the fore here, precisely at the beginning of Jesus' ministry, is his awareness that his life was subject to a certain calling that he had to fulfill at God's direction (cf. 4:35), an awareness that one can describe in the entire framework of this Gospel both as Jesus' messianic self-consciousness and his consciousness of his divine sonship.27 Meanwhile the "not yet" also implies that what Mary asked of him was not something that in itself lay outside that order28 but was something for which she had to await the time.

5 Mary conducts herself in accordance with both realities. She understands that she must await his time, but also hears a promise in his negative answer. And in her own way she prepares the way for fulfillment of that promise by telling the servants: "Do whatever he tells you" (as Pharaoh told the Egyptians in relation to Joseph when the famine came in the land, Gn. 41:55).

By saying this Mary plays her exemplary role in the story. When it comes to the hour of the fulfillment everyone must stand back. No human being, not even Mary, enters into that hour. But that does not condemn faith to inactivity. When, sometime soon, the hour of fulfillment arrives, then everything will have to be at Jesus' disposal. Without the faith represented by Mary, Jesus "cannot" do any miracles (cf. 2 Kg. 4:3ff.).

6 This is evident from what now, suddenly, dominates the scene, the now-mentioned six stone water jars.29 Stone jars were used especially for ritual purposes.30 The capacity of these jars was very considerable: a metrëtës is almost 40 liters, so the six jars altogether would hold 480 to 720 liters. These jars had been placed there in accordance with the Jewish rules of purification, for example, for rinsing the hands before and after every meal. Others think here of the prescribed purification bath before conjugal intercourse. Whichever is correct, in the context of this miracle story only the general function of the jars and their enormous capacity are significant. What was lacking at the wedding was wine, not water, the water of the law. The jars needed at the wedding to meet the requirements of the law were requisitioned to remedy what threatened to turn the wedding feast into a big disappointment — the lack of wine. If there is a clear hint anywhere for the understanding of the meaning of a miracle, then surely it is here, in the manner in which the Evangelist quantifies the capacity of the "vessels of the law" in order to enable the reader to measure by that standard the abundance of what Jesus Christ provided.

7, 8 Meanwhile, the idea that it was the sight of these enormous water jars that suddenly prompted Jesus to think that "his hour had come" and drove him to his initiative is not expressed in so many words here. We are denied any psychological insight into Jesus' messianic consciousness. The Evangelist immediately brings us face-to-face with the miracle itself, which manifests itself first in the authority with which Jesus tells the servants to fill the jars. And only when that instruction has been strictly ("to the brim") complied with does his command ("now draw some out") become the announcement of the "hour" of the fulfillment, in which people can draw from the abundance as much as they want (cf. Is. 12:3). For now there is wine as plentiful as water, indeed as plentiful as all the water of purification, which has flowed continually but cannot take away the sin of the world (cf. l:26f.).

From that point on the emphasis lies not so much on the quantity but on the special quality of the wine provided by Jesus. He has it confirmed by the steward of the feast, who is the most qualified person present. But because the steward does not know what has happened, he is also unsuspecting and hence the most objective judge and witness.

The parenthesis in vs. 9, "he did not know where it came from, though the servants who had drawn the water knew," is not intended, as some interpreters suggest,31 to pose a "spiritual" contrast between the steward, who does not know the secret and thus becomes a type of so many unbelieving Jews (cf. 1:48; 3:8; 4:11, etc.), and the servants, who supposedly have understood it. It is intended rather — as the context indicates — to highlight the objectivity of his judgment of the wine. The statement that the servants who had drawn the water did know the origin of the wine is intended only to remove all misunderstanding or doubt about what they offered their "chief" for his evaluation. The entire description is intended to render unquestionable the genuineness of the miracle. It is on account of his unbiased ignorance that the steward of the feast addresses not Jesus but the bridegroom as the person solely responsible for the wine supply and makes known his astonishment at the course of action that has been followed. He does this as one who knows the customs followed at weddings, that the best wine is normally served first and later, when the guests have had a few drinks and are in a good mood, the lesser wine.

10 The steward's comment to the bridegroom is certainly not intended as a reprimand. It is rather a compliment on the quality of the wine now being served. The steward undoubtedly speaks out of ignorance, since he does not know where the wine has come from. But in spite of himself, on the basis of what he does know, he describes precisely what has happened. With this statement — "You have kept the good wine until now" — the Evangelist ends the story as a perfect characterization of the situation that has come into being with Jesus' coming and work.

On the basis of the undeniable depth of this concluding statement, it does not seem difficult to sketch, in its general significance, the place and intent of the narrative as the opening story of the revelation of Jesus' glory — and to distinguish it from all kinds of historicizing and psychologizing additions on the one hand and allegorizing interpretations on the other. What seems dominant is the salvation-historical perspective, the perspective of the divinely apppointed "hour" of the revelation of Jesus' glory. All the emphasis comes to lie on that divinely appointed time as a result of Mary's premature pressure. In this way Mary herself represents the role of believing Israel, which impatiently awaits the breakthrough of the promised salvation but must await the moment when "the time is fulfilled," when the "fullness of time" has come (cf. Mk. 1:15; Gl. 4:4). Corresponding with this is the pronouncement of the steward to the bridegroom: "You have kept the good wine until now." The "now" is the breakthrough initiated by Jesus, just as he himself, having first said "not yet" to Mary, at the decisive moment says to the servants, "Now draw some out." For at that moment the water has become wine and the hour has come (cf. 4:23; 5:25).

This transformation of water into wine also determines the nature of this breakthrough in time. The motif of abundance of wine often occurs in prophecy as characteristic for the glory of the coming kingdom of God (cf. Is. 25:6; Am. 9:13, 14; Jr. 31:12ff.; cf. also Gn. 49:11), as it does also in Jewish visions of the future.32 But also in Jesus' own preaching "new wine" is the symbol of the time of salvation that has come and is still to come (cf. Mk. 2:22 par.; Lk. 22:18, 30). Joy and a festive meal, specifically a wedding meal, are naturally associated with this motif of wine (cf. Mk. 2:19; Mt. 22:2).33

But we need to bear in mind the uniqueness of the salvation-historical (or "eschatological") character of the present narrative. This applies, notably, to the so-called messianic wedding motif, which is made central by some interpreters.34 Although in John, too, Jesus is once depicted as a bridegroom (3:19), there is not a single hint in this wedding story that Jesus is acting as host or bridegroom (cf. Mk. 2:19; Rv. 19:7; 21:2, 9; Is. 62:4ff.). The events associated with the wedding remain completely in the background. Jesus is not the host here; he is the wine, more specifically the "good wine" reserved until now (vs. 10). In this regard there is here a striking resemblance with the multiplication of the loaves, surely also intended as an "eschatological" meal, where, according to the traditional story taken over by John, Jesus is the host (cf. 6:11), but where in the ensuing discussion with the Jews all the emphasis is shifted to Jesus as the bread, the true bread come down from heaven, as later he is the (divinely promised) "good Shepherd," "true vine," and "true light" (10:14; 15:1; 1:9; 8:12; see also 4:10ff.; 7:37ff.).35

All this serves the concentration on the person of Jesus as the Christ that is so characteristic for the Gospel of John. All that has been promised by God and held out in prospect in a profusion of images and concepts is fulfilled in Jesus,36 it all lies enclosed in him, and it can therefore only be known in its realization and concretization from him — sometimes even in a totally unexpected way (cf., e.g., 6:51). Here, in the story of the first sign, which determines the shape of all that follows (see the comments on vs. 11) all the emphasis lies on the fact that in him is given the fullness of God's gifts in their joy-full, world-illuminating, and life-giving meaning, entirely in keeping with what was said in the prologue of the glory of the light as a fullness of grace and truth from which the church may draw grace upon grace (1:14, 16). And all this is meant here, as a clear reflection of 1:17, as the new "good" and "true" that puts the old dispensation entirely in the shadow. In the place of the law given through Moses (the Jewish rites of purification) grace and truth in all their fullness have now come through Jesus Christ. In this light Mary's statement, "They have no wine," as a statement about the regime of the law, gains a still deeper meaning. At the same time, in this focus on the person of Jesus as "the good wine, kept until now" lies the criterion of what this fullness of joy and salvation holds and means for Israel and the entire world: the rejection of every manner of life and every kind of future expectation that does not have its all-sustaining foundation in his person and work (cf., e.g., 6:26f.).

With this exegesis we distance ourselves from other explanations that either (a) interpret the story of the miracle at Cana on the basis of a very different thought world, that of Hellenism, or (b) proceed from the assumption that the Old Testament background yields much more for the fundamental meaning of this miracle (as the opening story of the entire Gospel) than has been given above.

a) For the Hellenistic approach scholars refer to parallels in the Hellenistic religious world, whether more philosophical or more folkloristic. For instance, we are referred to Philo, who speaks of the Logos as "God's wine-pourer and feast-leader"37 and says of Melchizedek, as the type of the Logos, that he gave to the souls "wine instead of water."38 The more folkloristic "motif of the Dionysus legend" has been accorded more attention and support as the background and possible genesis of the miracle at Cana.39 Thus, according to Bultmann, this miracle, which he calls "the miracle of the epiphany of God," is linked with the legend that on the day of the Dionysus feast, that is, January 5 and 6, the temple springs in Andros and Teos poured out wine instead of water, and empty jars set up elsewhere in the temple proved to be filled with wine the following morning. In the early church this link with the Syrian Dionysus cult can, according to Bultmann, still be seen in the dating of Jesus' baptism on January 6 and the reading of the pericope of the Cana miracle on the same day.

On religio-historical grounds alone serious objections have been advanced against this interpretation.40 The reading of the story of the wedding at Cana on January 6 "cannot be documented before the second half of the fourth century."41 The motif of changing of water into wine occurs nowhere in the Dionysus legend. Hence it is not possible that the miracle of the Cana wedding was first ascribed to Dionysus and later attributed to Jesus, as Bultmann believes.

Some scholars have argued — not that the legend was transferred to Jesus, still less that Jesus was identified with Dionysus — but that the miracle story was an independent counterpart of the legend, born of dialogue between the Christian church and the Dionysus legend. "When the church presents Jesus, like Dionysus, as the wine-dispenser, it makes clear the claim that the fullness of life can only be found in the Crucified."42

But apart from the lack of any historical connection with a miracle performed by Jesus, the whole idea that the overture of the revelation of Jesus' glory in the Fourth Gospel is patterned on (the antithesis to) a pagan mystery story is irreconcilable with the entire construction and thrust of the Gospel itself. The story itself points in a totally different direction (see the exegesis above), and the thrust of what follows this opening story (the cleansing of the temple, the dialogue with Nicodemus, later the running confrontation with Judaism at the great feast in Jerusalem) is so clearly set against the background of the Jewish religion that the search for a starting point for all this in the adoption of or confrontation with purely pagan motifs seems a priori a method that cannot lead to the desired goal.

b) A totally opposite direction has been taken by those who have searched for the background of John 2 in the Old Testament, in, that is, the motif of the messianic wedding. The redaction of the story is said to show all sorts of striking points of resemblance with those of another opening story in the Israelite history of salvation, one in which the idea of the wedding is also said to be central, namely that of the establishment of the covenant on Mount Sinai as it is described in Exodus 19-24 and further explained in the Targum Pseudo-Jonathan. Following through on suggestions from A. M. Serra, Β. Olsson, in a very extensive monograph on Jn. 2:1-11,43 attempted to understand the entire story against what he calls the "Sinai Screen." He bases this link on various expressions and phrases in Jn 2:1-11 that occur more or less in the same form in Exodus:

Olsson further refers to the purification motif, which plays an important role in the covenant establishment story (Ex. 19:14ff.) and is represented in Jn. l:19ff. by the baptism of John, the revelation of Jesus as the Lamb of God, and the Jewish water jars.

The story of the wedding at Cana is to be understood, Olsson says, against this Sinaitic background. Jewish tradition often speaks of the Sinai tradition as the Lord's marriage to Israel. It would not be too "farfetched, from a Sinai perspective, to allow events at a village wedding to carry a message of something that, according to the narrator, replaces the old wedding at Sinai." On this basis Olsson believes he can uncover a number of hidden allusions in the story. For example, the wine does not function as an eschatological symbol but (in the light of the "Sinai Screen") stands for the law, which is now replaced by something new; the disciples are the people of the New Covenant, already manifest in the obedience of the servants; the miracle is therefore the fundamental "beginning" because the Son transforms the old into the new; and from this new perspective Mary's role can also be understood, etc. Olsson does not regard this as allegorical interpretation. What we have are "allusions" that reveal deeper backgrounds to the initiate. The story is "a symbolic narrative with many allusive elements."44

This lengthy citation of Olsson's views is motivated by the fact that in the more recent literature there is a clear tendency to find everywhere in the New Testament hidden allusions not only to the Old Testament but also to the Jewish Targums and the liturgical readings of the synagogue. Now there certainly is an important element of truth in this approach. In the Fourth Gospel we again and again encounter expressions that are clearly reminiscent of all kinds of Old Testament stories and statements, though they are not directly cited as such. Perhaps we may say that there is here a playing with the "sacred language" (in, e.g., vs. 5) to which the ears of the first readers were probably better attuned than those of today's church.

But it is something very different to find in these sometimes extremely vague allusions the real key to the understanding of the intent of the text. That 1:14-18 is shaped by the events on and around Sinai seems to me obvious (see my comments above). The reference to Moses and the giving of the law is explicit. But to say that the story of the Cana wedding can only be understood in light of a number of highly dubious allusions that one must discover by close comparison of the two texts would be to attribute to the Evangelist an artificial method of telling a story, a method that cannot be made plausible. Following B. Lindars one may ask:

Is [the Evangelist's] intention lost if the supposed allusions to the Sinai narrative are missed? If they are essential, why has he not taken the trouble to make his point plain? ... The text must be allowed to make its point for what it is in itself. In fact this kind of interpretation is far more likely to distort the author's meaning than to elucidate it. There is simply no firm evidence that the New Testament writers were accustomed to work in this way 45

In a few general terms vs. 11 describes the meaning of the preceding narrative. By speaking of the "beginning" of the signs the author tells his readers not only that the miracle at Cana was the first in a series, but also that it was the opening act of a much larger work, the foundation and pattern for everything that follows.46

The word "sign"47 which is characteristic for John (just once, in 4:48, linked with "wonders"48) has the meaning "miraculous act," in keeping with the use of the word in the Septuagint (especially in the combination "signs and wonders"), usually as a reference to the miracles and mighty deeds by which Israel was led out of Egypt and by which Moses was legitimized as one sent by God (e.g., Ex. 8:4ff.). Therefore, in distinction from both general use of the Greek word and our word "sign," use of this word in John does not refer primarily to a deeper or symbolic dimension of meaning but to miracle as a sign of authentication or legitimation. This is not to deny that the miracles that Jesus performed were also manifestations of his glory and that they materially disclosed the character of his coming and work (as was pointed out in the story) and sometimes served as symbols thereof. But even where that is the case, the sign is a miraculous event and not a parabolic story or a symbolic action in which the reference is only to a deeper or higher reality.49

Here the significance of the miraculous sign is that it is "the manifestation of his glory" (cf. 1:14), which had earlier been proclaimed to the disciples as "greater things" ( 1:50f.). Of that glory they now witnessed the first realization. Only the disciples are mentioned here even though Jesus' self-manifestation also extended itself to others who were present and also called them to believe. But the disciples are mentioned because they were those who had been with him from the beginning as officially appointed witnesses of his glory (cf. 15:27). Here at Cana, having seen his self-manifestation, they "believed in him," even though their faith has been mentioned earlier (cf. 1:50). "Believing" means here that more and more they learned to understand the person with whom they had to do; it was faith, therefore, that did not stop at astonishment over his power (cf. 2:23ff.) or at the expectation with which they had approached him. It is faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, in the sense in which the Evangelist meant to strengthen the church he was addressing (20:31). Of that church the disciples, as witnesses of Jesus' glory, came to be not only the founders but also the first representatives.

2:12-22

Jesus at Jerusalem, the Cleansing of the Temple

In vs. 12 we have a transitional passage in which Capernaum is mentioned as the new base of Jesus' activity. "After this" is not intended to make a direct connection with what happened in Cana. Mt. 4:13 and Lk. 4:31 also mention Jesus establishing himself in Capernaum. Apparently the Evangelist here refers back — briefly — to this precanonical tradition, in which it is a given that during his activity in Galilee Jesus operated — at least for a time — from a base in Capernaum (cf. Mt. 9:1).50 It is striking that at this point also his mother and brothers are mentioned (see, however, texts like Mt. 12:46f.; Mk. 3:31f.; Lk. 8:19f.). Capernaum plays no special role in the Fourth Gospel (cf., besides 4:46, also 6:17, 24, 59). Jesus' mother is not mentioned again until 19:25-27, and his brothers are mentioned again only in 7:3ff. Besides furnishing general orientation, 2:12 also prepares for the remainder of the story. But everything is stated with the greatest possible brevity. The reader's attention is immediately directed to what follows, events foreshadowed in the concluding words: "and there they stayed for a few days." If the correct reading is "they" (and not "he," as some important manuscripts have it), the reference is, of course, to Jesus and his disciples.

In the extreme succinctness of the transition we again come to know the character and purpose of the Fourth Gospel. It does not aim to give a complete account of the life of Jesus. As a rule the chronological viewpoint has only marginal significance. The author assumes that the reader has sufficient general knowledge of the tradition as background for understanding the events that he has selected.

13 The introduction to the story that now follows explains Jesus' journey to Jerusalem: "the Passover of the Jews was at hand." "The Jews" are mentioned here (as in vs. 5; 5:1; 6:4; 7:2; 19:14) not to distinguish them from the nationality of the readers but to describe the Passover and other Jewish customs celebrated by Jews but now abandoned by the Evangelist and his readers. Jewish feasts are occasions for Jesus to go to Jerusalem several times in this Gospel (6:4; 7:2; 10:22; 11:55; 12:1). There, at the Jewish geographical center and at the high points of the religious life of the Jewish people, the great confrontation between Jesus and the Jewish leaders takes place.

What is primarily at stake in the story that now follows is the all-controlling significance of the temple. By placing the story of the "cleansing" of the temple immediately after the story of the first manifestation of Jesus' glory, the Evangelist now in a most fundamental way poses for the reader's consideration the critical significance of Jesus' coming and work. In conjunction with the conversation with Nicodemus, which follows in ch. 3, we have in this journey to the temple the first great confrontation with "the Jews," which is concerned with authority over the temple and the "knowledge" of the Jewish scribes (cf. 3:2, 11; see pp. 97ff. above).

The first question in regard to this passage is always where to place this event historically: as the Synoptics do, just before the last Passover before Jesus' death, or as John does, during a (much) earlier Passover? The idea that we are dealing here with a repetition of precisely the same action at the same location and with the same attendant question concerning Jesus' authority, though not intrinsically impossible, nevertheless seems highly improbable.

If, then, the event must go in one place or another, there are weighty arguments on both sides.51 An argument for the Johannine version could be that the Synoptics mention only one Passover and one journey to Jerusalem, leaving no other place to put the story. John, by contrast, demonstrates that he has a much more differentiated knowledge of Jesus' conduct at the Jewish festivals. Another argument could be that a cleansing of the temple where John locates it would be Jesus' initial reaction to the "worldliness" of the activities around the temple rather than a reaction occurring the last time he was in Jerusalem.52 Another matter of importance is the precise time indication, "the forty-sixth year," in vs. 20, which seems to argue more for the earlier Johannine dating than for the later Synoptic dating.53 In any case the date shows that, however much John is guided in the selection and ordering of the events narrated by other concerns, he by no means loses sight of a chronological perspective.

It cannot be denied that Jesus' saying about the tearing down and building up of the temple (Jn. 1:19) plays a distinct role in the history of Jesus' trial before the Sanhedrin and his subsequent execution (Mk. 14:58; Mt. 26:61; cf. Mk. 15:29; Mt. 27:40). But the Synoptics neither mention this connection nor set the saying into the story of the cleansing. They say that there was no consensus among the witnesses with regard to the saying, which does not suggest that there had just recently been a serious conflict over the issue between Jesus and the Jewish authorities.

Though there is thus much that argues for the Johannine dating of the cleansing, with regard to this much disputed point it is not likely that we shall ever arrive at absolute certainty or a unanimous judgment.

14-16 What comes most prominently to the fore in this confrontation between Jesus and the Jews is the absolute authority and attendant severity of Jesus' public action. He not only tells the merchants and the money changers whom he found in the temple to leave but with a hastily improvised whip he drives them all54 — merchandise and everything — out of the temple. He spills out the money changers' money and turns their tables over and commands the pigeon merchants to take their merchandise and leave — all this with the message intended for them: "You shall not make my Father's house a house of trade!" In this description of the temple there is, of course, an implied legitimation of his action as well as an explanation of his anger and of the violence he uses. He acts and speaks as the Son, whose holy wrath and zeal are ignited at sight of what people have done with his Father's house.

It has been asked whether what the merchants did was really that great an evil. After all, they provided pilgrims what they needed for the sacrifices and enabled them to pay the obligatory temple tax in the prescribed currency. The merchants had to pay substantial rent for their spaces in the temple court to the temple authorities. But Jesus' fury and severity were not directed against the merchants' or money changers' profits but against the very fact of business being conducted in the precincts of the sanctuary. For him it was intolerable that the place of access to God's holy dwelling and to communion with God himself was made into a place of trade in animals and money, a business for which in the nature of the case the temple was not intended. That his criticism was not only directed against the merchants but also concerned the authorities in the temple and the pilgrims in general, all of whom apparently accepted such a combination of contradictory matters as natural, is obvious and, as the sequel shows, was clearly understood as such by the Jewish leaders. The real conflict was between him and them. And, as will appear in vs. 18, the dispute was ultimately not over what was permitted or prohibited in the temple but over who wielded authority there.

17 In a parenthetical statement we learn that the disciples — whose presence as the regular companions and witnesses of Jesus is simply assumed here — remembered these words from Scripture: "Zeal for thy house has consumed me" (cf. Ps. 69:9). The idea that we have here a later reflection (as in vs. 22 and 12:16) is not suggested by the text itself. "Consume" does not refer to the intensity of the emotion that was manifest in Jesus' zeal for the house of God but, as is clear from Ps. 69:9b itself,55 to the lethal hostility that his zeal was to evoke from his adversaries. The full manifestation of this hostility would undoubtedly not surface till later, and the scriptural proof56 from Psalm 69 (cf. Ro. 15:3; Jn. 19:28) was therefore undoubtedly proleptic. But this is not to deny that in Jesus' violent and authoritative resistance against the misuse of the temple the disciples saw the spirit of prophecy moving in him — and that in that context they learned to understand his conduct also during his lifetime (cf. 14:25).

18 "The Jews" — a term that here as so often in the Fourth Gospel refers to the Jewish authorities in their hostile attitude toward Jesus57 — react by asking Jesus for a sign of legitimation58 — a supernatural demonstration of his authority. Such a sign was repeatedly demanded of Jesus (cf. Mt. 12:38, 39; 16:Iff.; Lk. 23:8) and was, indeed, characteristic of Jewish thinking (cf. 1 Co. 1:22; Jn. 4:48; 6:30). But Jesus never met such requests.

19 Jesus does respond with a pronouncement in which the prospect of such a "sign" is held out to them, but he does so in a way that for his adversaries (and for his disciples!) must have been a complete mystery: "Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up."

20-22 "The Jews" took Jesus' words literally59 and, in view of the long period of time already spent (and still being spent) in the construction of the temple,60 could only view the "three days" as an absurdity, about which there could be no sensible discussion. The Evangelist explains that Jesus spoke of "the temple of his body" (vs. 21) and tells us that after his resurrection the disciples remembered Jesus' statement (vs. 22), and in both additions61 it is clear that the Evangelist intends us to understand "tearing down" and "raising up" as referring to Jesus' death and resurrection. By his words in vs. 19, then, Jesus seems to be serving notice to his adversaries that his authority with regard to the temple would manifest itself when they would raise to the limit the hostility that they already felt toward him, by executing him. Then in three days he would build up again what they had broken down — his body — by rising from the dead. However much this explanation of Jesus' enigmatic saying — unintelligible alike to friend and foe when he spoke it — illumines the background of the dispute between Jesus and his adversaries that erupts with increasing force in the following chapters, it does not remove the fact that as an interpretation of Jesus' answer to the Jews it poses questions that are difficult to answer.

The first question is whether in the explanation every connection with the historic temple is excluded and Jesus, in total detachment from the situation in which he found himself, had in mind only his own body when he spoke of "this temple." We must ask this because elsewhere in the Gospels similar — at first sight — statements of Jesus occur (or at least are put in his mouth) that seem to have a very different thrust. We specifically have in mind the statements made during the trial before the Sanhedrin: "I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands" (Mk. 14:58), "I am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in three days" (Mt. 26:61; cf. Mk. 15:29; Mt. 27:40; Ac. 6:14). Scholars usually view these as eschatological sayings of judgment that Jesus uttered over the temple at Jerusalem, following it with a messianic announcement of another reality complete with a new temple "not made with hands." "Three days" is sometimes taken as an indication of a short perod or as an allusion to the rabbinic dating of the resurrection from the dead on the third day after the end of the world, in accordance with Ho. 6:2.62 Jesus' answer in Jn 2:19 is said to have been understood in a similar sense by the spectators and to have been echoed in the charges made and the mockery expressed before Caiaphas and at the cross. The assumption is then that the Evangelist reinterpreted all this by taking "this temple" to mean not the temple in Jerusalem but the temple of Jesus' body.

But can the parallel utterances really help us understand Jn. 2:19ff. ? They are, after all, related as false testimony. And here in John Jesus does not say "/ will tear down this temple," but "Destroy this temple." The imperative has a much fiercer sound than a conditional — "if you destroy this temple" — would have. It has the character of an ironic provocation, as in prophetic utterances like Am. 4:4; Is. 8:9f.:63 "Go ahead, destroy this temple — as you are already doing and apparently love to do — and in three days I will raise it up again." So tearing down the temple is not the judgment of God or Jesus on the temple (of which the violent cleansing would then be the prelude) but the manner in which the Jews themselves were disturbing God's dwelling among them. Jesus announces that what they are apparently consciously tearing down he will build up in three days in a way that is not conceivable to them ("in three days"). Viewed in this light the connection with the temple in which they are standing (and with Jesus' cleansing of it) is maintained — even given the

Evangelist's explanation. There lay the starting point of the entire confrontation. "This temple" the Jews, by their unspiritual "management" of the house of God, were in the process of tearing down. And, as is already clear now, Jesus himself, in his zeal for God's claims upon the temple, was to fall a victim to that attitude. But the sign that they demanded of him and Jesus held out to them would not consist, as the Jews thought and later charged, in a new building ("made with hands," Mk. 14:58) at Jerusalem, but — as the disciples, the church, and the Evangelist were to understand in retrospect — in the miracle of his resurrection, both as the proof of his authority and as the new way in which God would make his dwelling among people (cf. 4:2Iff.). By way of this new focus, in which the entire dispute with the Jews is placed under the "heading" of that future, all the words about the temple in this context gain a new meaning and are placed on a new level, and "this temple" in vs. 19 is seen as a transition, the ambiguity of which only emerges later.

Interpreters are very divided in their opinions on this difficult passage. Some believe that vs. 19 should be explained by itself, apart from the temple at Jerusalem and the cleansing of the temple. In the words "this temple" Jesus is said to have had in mind only his own body, to which he perhaps pointed with his finger ("this"). Others believe that in vs. 19a the temple at Jerusalem is meant and in vs. 19b ("it") Jesus' body is meant. Brown, who reports all these ideas, calls the explanation of the Evangelist himself "a post-resurrectional amplification" of an original "eschatological proclamation referring to the Jerusalem temple."64 But, as stated above, we do not know with any clarity of such a proclamation from the mouth of Jesus, considering the murky source (Jesus' accusers and opponents) we have to draw on. However, the idea that the words "this temple" are completely detached from the temple in Jerusalem where the disputants found themselves and which was at issue seems to me (as to Brown) equally hard to defend. Bultmann's judgment is very radical. According to him it is clear that vss. 20 and 21 are "a secondary interpretation" because "the temple referred to in vs. 19 is the real temple of Jerusalem as is shown by . .. τον ναον τοṽτον." And he regards it as a comical "way of getting out of the predicament" to say (as vs. 20 states) that with this τοṽτον Jesus pointed to his own body.65 However much the starting point for the temple saying may have been "the real temple of Jerusalem," it is no less clear that (in the mouth of Jesus) the object of the "tearing down" and "building up" cannot be the temple in Jerusalem. Jesus is not referring to the destruction of the temple as the coming judgment of God, as in Mt. 24:2, but to the manner in which the Jews were guilty of violating their own temple. And there is even less ground for the notion that he is holding out the prospect of an eschatological reconstruction — and that by himself — of this "real temple of Jerusalem." The contrary is rather the case (cf. Jn. 4:21f.).

In addition, as far as the terms of the text are concerned, for "raising up" (again) the Evangelist uses a word66 that can refer to "new construction" of a house or to "raising up" of a body — surely also with a view to the interpretation that is given. It is hard to say with certainty whether "in three days" is a direct prediction of the period between Jesus' death and resurrection (elsewhere usually described as "after three days" or "on the third day," cf. Mk. 8:31; 9:31; 10:34; Mt. 27:63; 16:21; 1 Co. 15:4) or an eschatological time indication (as it is used in the rabbinic literature; see above).

The most striking feature in the whole pronouncement is of course that in speaking of this marvelous construction Jesus is referring to his resurrection and in speaking of "this temple" he is referring to his body. Among the numerous explanations of this, it has been pointed out that elsewhere the body is called the temple of God or of the Holy Spirit (cf. 1 Co. 3:16; 6:19). But the point of departure for this idea does not lie in the body but in Christ himself, who in rising from the grave to which he has been consigned by people proves himself to be the one in whom the glory of God dwells among people. In Rv. 21:22 God and the Lamb are identified as the "temple" of the heavenly Jerusalem, and in Jn. 1:14 the indwelling of the glory of God in the flesh is described with as the "tabernacle"67 (cf. also Mt. 12:6). But rather than seeking the explanation for Jesus' identification with the temple in proof texts, we should find it in the general conceptual framework of the Fourth Gospel: In Jesus Christ has become manifest the truth of what in all sorts of ways was foreshadowed and predicted in Israel's history, in the law of Moses, in the holy institutions of Israel as the people of God, and in the prophets' future expectation. In other words, just as Jesus is the Lamb of God (1:29), so he is also the temple that will replace the existing temple and in whom the indwelling of God among people will be truly and fully realized.

This last point explains why the Evangelist uses the story of the cleansing of the temple to lead into Jesus' confrontation with the Jewish leaders, which began with his appearance in Jerusalem. In that temple, in which all the privileges and pretensions of the religion they represented were concentrated, Jesus set himself as the Son of the Father with full power and authority over his house. And there he pronounced a devastating judgment over the havoc that the people had wreaked there. Over against that havoc he announced a new way of worshiping God that God would establish in him, a new way in which — as he was to tell the Samaritan woman — the true worshipers would worship the Father in Spirit and in truth (4:23).

For that reason the story of the temple-cleansing, together with that of the wedding at Cana, can also be viewed as the background of all that follows.

In both stories the presence of God among people becomes visible in Jesus' coming as a sign, in its salvific as well as in its critical significance. To his readers — in their struggle for the true religion — the Evangelist could hardly picture the radicality and exclusiveness of faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, with greater force than by the conjunction of these two introductory stories.

The last words of the pericope (vs. 22) say that the disciples did not remember that he had said this until after the resurrection. They, too, were unable to understand the meaning of his words before that. But then "they believed the Scripture and the word that Jesus had spoken." That is, they understood, by the light of Scripture, the way Jesus had to go and where it led. Then the word Jesus had once uttered became for them (all the more) reason to believe in him.

For our insight into the origin of the faith of the Christian church and of the gospel, this concluding verse is of special importance. It does not say that the roots of the Christian faith and of the way the historical Jesus was described lay in the experience of the resurrection. The Fourth Gospel emphasizes the manifestation of the glory of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, during his earthly life. It is not just the glory of the resurrection that retroactively shines over his earthly life. It is the glory with which he "dwelled among us," the glory of the Word that became flesh, to which the Gospel consistently testifies.

But the disciples' understanding of that glory did not keep pace with the revelation. It was the resurrection, the witness of the Spirit (14:26; 15:26), and the Scriptures that "brought to their remembrance," that gave them the correct understanding of what Jesus had said and done. Thus they became aware of who he was and what he had said and meant. Neither the resurrection, nor the Spirit, nor the Scriptures, nor their faith was primary. What was and remained primary was the glory of the indwelling of God in Jesus. The gospel is not the story of the later faith of the Christian church; it is the report of the revelation of God in the flesh. But only the end, the resurrection, and the Spirit teach disciples to understand the beginning and offer faith a foothold in "the word that Jesus had spoken."

2:23-25

Jesus' Knowledge of Humankind,

the Dialogue with Nicodemus

The purpose of vss. 23-25 is clearly to introduce a new perspective in relation to the revelation of the glory of Jesus Christ. Up to this point the revelation led to two opposing reactions: that of Jesus' disciples and that of "the Jews."

The disciples beheld his glory and believed in him (2:11). "The Jews" questioned the authority with which Jesus acted in the temple and thus began the opposition that in the end was to lead them to their total rejection of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. Now in 2:23ff. we learn of a third reaction, one more favorable than that of "the Jews": the "many" at Jerusalem were deeply impressed by Jesus' miraculous power and so "believed in his name." But Jesus adopted a very reserved posture toward this reaction.

All this constitutes a point of departure for the conversation with Nico-demus in ch. 3, where, in a profound way, the deficit of this faith on the part of the "many" — represented by Nicodemus — is stressed. This is done, first, on the basis of the "knowledge" (vs. 25) Jesus had of humanity (3:1-8), then in the light of a new and great exposition of Jesus' coming into the world and of a corresponding faith in his name (3:11-22).

23, 24 The manner in which the transition is made to this new perspective is characteristic for the way in which the author works: there is a historical link with the preceding, Jesus' stay in Jerusalem during the Passover, but there is no information whatever about any other action of Jesus at the feast, including the miracles he apparently performed repeatedly68 in those days. The Evangelist considered Jesus' performance of miracles wherever he was staying sufficiently well known to be able to refer to them in connection with the reaction of the "many."

The Evangelist describes that reaction as "believing in Jesus' name," and we thus immediately encounter a problem that returns again and again in the Gospel and that surely played an important role in the later relationship between the church and the synagogue, namely what one can and should understand by "believing in Jesus." The expression also occurs in 1:12, just as elsewhere there is repeated mention of "faith" that later proved impermanent (7:31; 8:30; 10:42; 11:45; 12:42). The Evangelist does not say that they pretended to be believers or anything like that; he does not deny that they believed. They believed in Jesus as a man sent from God, as, expressing the conviction of many, Nicodemus put it ("we know" in 3:2), and they did this because, unlike many of the Jewish leaders, they did not question the genuineness of Jesus' miracles (cf. 9:16; Mt. 9:34; 10:25; 12:24, etc.). At the same time it is clear that not all "believing" or "believing in his name" could be equated with the faith mentioned in 1:12, where the link is made — as it will be in the conversation with Nicodemus — with "being born of God."

The Evangelist himself does not pronounce this judgment, but refers in vs. 24 to the posture Jesus adopted toward the many who believed in him because of his miracles. Jesus "did not trust himself to them," did not count on them as followers of whom he could be sure. We are not told in what way Jesus maintained this reserve toward them. He apparently did not prevent them from following him as his disciples (cf., e.g., 6:66) but he knew that the impression made on them by his miracles did not offer a guarantee that in the end they would choose for him. It is on that "knowledge" of Jesus that all the emphasis falls here.

25 Bultmann speaks of the cumbersomeness ("Umständlichkeit") with which in vs. 25 Jesus' omniscience is emphasized as the ground for his reserve and calls it typical for this Evangelist. However, this copiousness not only serves to explain Jesus' restrained posture toward the people referred to in vss. 22-24 but is also meant to prepare for what will come up as the first decisive point of discussion in the dialogue with Nicodemus, which follows: "what was in the human person" (vs. 25b).

John 3:1-21 (NLT)

1 There was a man named Nicodemus, a Jewish religious leader who was a Pharisee. 2 After dark one evening, he came to speak with Jesus. “Rabbi,” he said, “we all know that God has sent you to teach us. Your miraculous signs are evidence that God is with you.”

3 There was a man named Nicodemus, a Jewish religious leader who was a Pharisee. 2 After dark one evening, he came to speak with Jesus. “Rabbi,” he said, “we all know that God has sent you to teach us. Your miraculous signs are evidence that God is with you.”

3 Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, unless you are born again,[a] you cannot see the Kingdom of God.”

4 “What do you mean?” exclaimed Nicodemus. “How can an old man go back into his mother’s womb and be born again?”

5 Jesus replied, “I assure you, no one can enter the Kingdom of God without being born of water and the Spirit.[b] 6 Humans can reproduce only human life, but the Holy Spirit gives birth to spiritual life.[c] 7 So don’t be surprised when I say, ‘You[d] must be born again.’ 8 The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.”

9 “How are these things possible?” Nicodemus asked.

10 Jesus replied, “You are a respected Jewish teacher, and yet you don’t understand these things? 11 I assure you, we tell you what we know and have seen, and yet you won’t believe our testimony. 12 But if you don’t believe me when I tell you about earthly things, how can you possibly believe if I tell you about heavenly things? 13 No one has ever gone to heaven and returned. But the Son of Man[e] has come down from heaven. 14 And as Moses lifted up the bronze snake on a pole in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, 15 so that everyone who believes in him will have eternal life.[f]

16 “For this is how God loved the world: He gave[g] his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. 17 God sent his Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through him.

18 “There is no judgment against anyone who believes in him. But anyone who does not believe in him has already been judged for not believing in God’s one and only Son. 19 And the judgment is based on this fact: God’s light came into the world, but people loved the darkness more than the light, for their actions were evil. 20 All who do evil hate the light and refuse to go near it for fear their sins will be exposed. 21 But those who do what is right come to the light so others can see that they are doing what God wants.[h]”

 John 3:1-21 (NLT) Click here to expand...

Commentary on John 3:1-21 (NLT)

Confront people lovingly

Confronting those who are in a position of weakness is relatively easy and sometimes cowardly. Confronting those in positions of power over us, through their job, status or wealth, takes great courage.

Jesus was the master at confrontation. He never shied away from it. On the other hand, he never acted out of any motive but love.

Nicodemus was a very powerful man; a moral and upright Pharisee and ‘a member of the Jewish ruling council’ (v.1). Jesus was undaunted by his position. He lovingly confronts Nicodemus with his need to be ‘born again’ (v.3) – to start anew, leave behind past hurts, habits and old ways. The message of Jesus is about transformation.

Nicodemus needs to be born again of water and the Spirit (v.5). The outward washing must be accompanied by the inward dwelling of the Holy Spirit.

We do not see God physically now. But we see evidence of God. Like the wind, we cannot see it but we can see its effect on the trees and the leaves – ‘the invisible moving the visible’ (v.5, MSG).

Likewise, Jesus says you cannot see the Holy Spirit but you can see the impact on people’s lives: ‘The person who takes shape within is formed by something you can’t see and touch – the Spirit – and becomes a living spirit’ (v.6, MSG).

Jesus lovingly challenges Nicodemus about his beliefs. Using the image of the snake in the desert (from Numbers 21), Jesus predicts that he himself will be lifted up on the cross so ‘that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life’ (v.15).

‘Believes’ means ‘trusts’. Every time we enter a relationship we take a risk. All relationships require trust. Trust in a dynamic relationship grows and endures.

Jesus teaches about God’s love. The Greek word used for ‘love’ in verse 16, agape, appears forty-four times in John’s Gospel alone. This verse sums up John’s Gospel and, indeed, the whole of the New Testament: ‘God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life’ (v.16).

There is a God and his love is wide enough to embrace all humankind without distinction or exception. It is not a vague or sentimental love. God’s love is of immeasurable intensity, demonstrated by his willingness to sacrifice his only son for you and me.

The world is in such a mess. People often ask, ‘Why doesn’t God do something?’ The answer is that he has. He came in the person of his Son, Jesus, to die on a cross and rise again for you. Jesus understands about suffering. He suffered for us and he suffers alongside us.

Many people have ceased to believe in life after death. But Jesus promised that we would ‘have eternal life and [actually] live forever!’ (v.15, AMP). This life is not the end. There is hope beyond the grave. Jesus offers you eternal life.

There is a big difference between confrontation and condemnation. Jesus confronted people, but he did not condemn them. Jesus did not come to condemn you but to save you from condemnation (vv.17–18). Like Jesus, you and I need to bring a message – not of condemnation, but the good news of salvation. To save means to pull a person out of danger, to liberate, to open the doors of a prison, to heal, to make whole.

Next, Jesus speaks of how light exposes and confronts darkness(vv.19–21). Jesus seems to be suggesting that the reason some people reject him is because ‘their deeds [are] evil’ (v.19). We do not want to come into the light because we do not want to give up the things that we know are wrong.

We do not want people to see the shadow areas in us. We hide all the dark inside us behind our apparent goodness. Sin hates light. When we sin, we want to avoid the light of Jesus. We do not want our evil deeds to be exposed. But Jesus came to confront the darkness. We may be afraid or ashamed. It may be extremely difficult for us. But we too must confront darkness in our lives and seek to live in the light of Christ – who loves you just as you are.

Martin Luther King said, ‘Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.’

Lord, thank you for the example of Jesus. Help me to live in the light and to have the courage to speak the truth in love.

 Advanced commentary

Jesus' Knowledge of Humankind,

the Dialogue with Nicodemus

3:1 The conversation with Nicodemus offers a very specific elaboration of what was said in a more general sense in 2:23-25. In the figure of Nicodemus we are given an illustrative demonstration — perhaps we may say par excellence — of what in the preceding is called "the faith" of the many in Jerusalem who were impressed by the signs that Jesus did.

Nicodemus is introduced as "a man of the Pharisees." "A man" could simply mean "someone," but in light of the repeated άνθρωπος in 2:25 (and with a view to 3:4, 27), the use of the word is probably intentional. As a Pharisee Nicodemus was an adherent of a rigorously orthodox and nationalistic party and as such also a scribe (vs. 10). He was also "a ruler of the Jews," which means, as is evident from 7:26, 48 (as also from the usage in Luke and Acts), that he was a member of the Sanhedrin. Again, then, we have here a confrontation between Jesus and official Judaism, but one that is very different from that in 2:18ff. Nicodemus clearly did not belong to the leaders who were hostile to Jesus, and later in the Gospel he speaks on Jesus' behalf in the Sanhedrin (7:50) and joins with those who provide Jesus an honorable burial (19:39).

2 Nicodemus's motive for going to Jesus was certainly that he wanted to become better acquainted with him, and this comes out in the significant remark he later addresses to his colleagues (7:51). That he came to Jesus "by night" is interpreted variously. The inference that he wanted to speak with Jesus without being noticed is obvious. This does not necessarily mean, however, that he was motivated by fear, as is often assumed (with reference to the context in which "by night" comes up again in 19:39 [cf. vs. 38]). But although in this encounter by night the element of prudence may have been a factor, one can hardly, in light of all the facts, call Nicodemus a model of fear.69 And we certainly cannot place him among the "many of the authorities" whose secret faith is disqualified in 12:42f. Therefore some scholars look for the motive of this nocturnal visit simply in a desire to talk with Jesus undisturbed, just as the rabbis made a habit of studying the Torah by night.70

The manner in which Nicodemus addressed Jesus and made known his view of him is typical for his role throughout this encounter. He comes to Jesus not with a question but with a statement ("we know"), one, indeed, that reflects what is said in 2:23 concerning the "many" in Jerusalem who believed in Jesus' name. His position as a scribe and a member of the Sanhedrin gives all the more relief to this "we know"; still he is speaking in the first place as representative of this "faith" in Jesus and not so much as an authoritative scribe. Nicodemus speaks in the plural, as others do later (4:24; 9:24, 29, 31; 16:30), to say what certain groups believe or do not believe about Jesus.71

Nicodemus's witness concerning Jesus is certainly not devoid of significant content. He not only addresses Jesus as "Rabbi" but expressly calls him "a teacher come from God," mentioning Jesus' signs as incontestable ground for this. He could base this on the general opinion of Jews that performance of miracles, and certainly miracles of the kind Jesus did, served as a clear indication that a person had been sent by God (cf., e.g., 9:31ff.).72 Others, going farther, believe that Nicodemus was referring here to the prophet predicted in Dt. 18:15, 18.73 He does not speak of a prophet, however, but of a teacher, and Deuteronomy 18 does not mention miracles. Also, the description is too general to serve as a reference to the expectation of one very specific prophet (or teacher; cf. 9:33).

The qualifications Nicodemus uses of Jesus ("come from God"; "God is with him") approximate or coincide with what Jesus says of himself (e.g., 8:29; 16:32). Therefore, we are faced with the question why Nicodemus is presented as one of those of whom it is said (2:24) that Jesus "did not trust himself to them," one of those who "do not receive our testimony" and "do not believe" (3:1 If.).

3 Jesus' response is given with the great emphasis of "Amen, amen" (see the comments on 1:51) and is repeated in somewhat different language in vs. 5. It resembles (like 1:51) a revelational utterance that not only transcends human certainties ("we know") but also replaces them with something of another order and a higher priority. Nicodemus had spoken of Jesus' signs as proof that God was with him. Jesus himself reached beyond the signs and spoke of (seeing) the kingdom of God. He thereby placed his public conduct in a context in which God was with him in another, superior, more decisive way than Nicodemus and the "many" in Jerusalem were apparently aware of: by revealing in him God's salvation in its "eschatological" all-embracing significance.

Only here and in vs. 5 is the kingdom of God mentioned in the Fourth Gospel. This surely ties in with the fact that John focuses everything on the person of Christ. All the more prominent in the Fourth Gospel, therefore, is the "personal" concept74 that corresponds to the concept of "the kingdom of God," that of "the Son of man" as the fully empowered Revealer and Bringer of the kingdom of God, as Daniel 7 speaks of him. In what follows, what is called the kingdom of God here will be referred to as the descent from heaven of the Son of man (vss. 13ff.). But to attribute such significance to Jesus and to see (that is, to be permitted to share in)75 the kingdom represented by him, or to be allowed to enter it (so vs. 5), requires more than just being impressed by his miraculous power and ascribing to him a place of honor in the situation in which one finds oneself and considers oneself competent to judge. It requires a complete reversal in that situation, a reversal that Jesus describes as "being born from above."

There has been much controversy over whether we should translate άνωθεν as "from above" or "anew."76 A clear argument for the first is that "from above" is the starting point of the pericope in vss. 31-36, one that is intimately tied in with vss. 1-21. Just as the Redeemer "comes from above" (3:31; see also 3:13), so also the redeemed must be born "from above." For the second meaning, "anew," one can appeal to the response of Nicodemus, who speaks of "a second time." Sometimes scholars speak of a play on words possible only in the Greek: Jesus had in mind "from above," but Nicodemus understood "anew." If, however, one goes back to the unquestionably Semitic origin of this pronouncement, then such a play on words is hard to construe, and one encounters an Aramaic word that can only mean "from above."77 We are not, however, dealing with an essential difference. As is evident from vss. 5 and 8 Jesus had in mind a birth "of the Spirit," and it is "of God" in 1:13. Such a birth is both "from above" and "anew." Nicodemus takes it to mean "entering one's mother's womb a second time" and in any case does not understand Jesus' meaning. Therefore, although the translation "anew" is certainly not impossible, on the basis of the context I favor "from above."

Scholars have tried in various ways to delineate the theological meaning of this striking expression more precisely. But, with a view also to Nicodemus's answer in vs. 4, birth "from above" does not function in this specific Johannine form (which does not occur anywhere else)78 as a fixed theological term adopted from some existing doctrinal system so that Jesus could expect an expert to understand it.79 It has the character, rather, of one of those recurrent paradoxical sayings (e.g., 2:19; 6:41, 51) that were intended to produce some kind of shock. Although in vs. 5 Jesus will explain his meaning further, his primary intent is obviously not to refute or correct Nicodemus's theological certainties by means of scribal terms or arguments, but to impress him at a much deeper level, where his entire existence before God is at stake.

Some regard this pronouncement as another version of the saying in Mk. 10:15; Mt. 18:3: "Truly I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child will not enter it." Others mention the reference to being a child of God, which is more than the comparison "like a child" and thus assumes a new beginning. Still others look for the background of this mode of speaking in Hellenistic religiosity. Dodd refers specifically to the Hermetic literature, which mentions rebirth.80 Bultmann speaks of a Gnostic source that the Evangelist used and that supposedly mentioned "being begotten from above."81 In rabbinic writings, too, one finds many expressions that denote rescue from death, the forgiveness of sins, and the like as a re-creation,82 though this is different from what Jesus meant. All this may serve to show that Jesus was not speaking into a spiritual vacuum, but that does not remove the surprising (in this context) and paradoxical character of his emphatic revelational saying (cf., e.g., 6:53; also 1:51).

4 Accordingly, Nicodemus's answer is not that of one who is unfamiliar with a certain "theological" terminology or thought pattern, but that of a natural man, one for whom being "born from above" is the end of all human knowledge or scribal learning.83 He gives realistic expression to his feelings with a question calculated to show up the absurdity of what Jesus has said. One may call this rather primitive reply of Nicodemus a rhetorical form: John frequently has the conversation partners of Jesus — all responding to similar paradoxical statements — pose questions that show misunderstanding and incomprehension and that provide Jesus with an opportunity to explain himself further (e.g., 2:20; 4:1 If.; chs. 8-9). But this sort of reaction also shows how great the distance is between Jesus' mode of thought and theirs and how time and again his words thus sound strange or even absurd to them (cf. 2:19; 4:10; 6:52; 8:58) — an effect that Jesus undoubtedly intended to stimulate them to reflection but whose background and actual cause lay in the fact that Jesus spoke and acted from another reality than his partners in dialogue.

5 To Nicodemus's question ("How can a person . . . ?") Jesus replies with a factual as well as formal repetition of his first pronouncement, using different words in place of the expression that had proven to be so puzzling and even absurd to Nicodemus, saying now not "from above" but "of water and the Spirit." The reference to "the Spirit" as the creator of life as promised eschatological gift should have made clear to Nicodemus what Jesus meant. But "water and Spirit" together are harder to understand.84 Some see here in "born of water and the Spirit" a reflection of the later ecclesiastical doctrine of baptismal regeneration and accordingly regard "of water" as a later "sacramental" insertion. But it would then be more natural to reverse the argument and explain the later teaching (partly) in terms of this expression — and also to explain the use of the words "regeneration," "born anew" (cf. Tit. 3:5; 1 Pt. 1:3, 23), which display a much more fixed and hence later character, on the basis of this unusual "born from above'V'born of water and the Spirit."

The question remains what might have been meant by "water," which is governed by a single preposition with "Spirit,"85 in the context of John 3. Some think that it need not refer to baptism but is a symbol for "Spirit," as in 7:38f. and that the conjunction "and" is epexegetical, meaning "that is to say."86 But it is unlikely that "water" should mean no more than "Spirit," which follows in the same breath. Why then mention water first? On the other hand, it is not at all necessary to think in this connection of the church doctrine of baptism, of which Nicodemus could not have had any notion. And Jesus is speaking not of access to the church but about entering the kingdom, with reference to which the connection between (baptismal) water and the Spirit was relevant from the start, as we have seen at length in the Baptist's testimony (l:26ff.), and it can hardly be accidental that the pericope that immediately follows the present one (3:22ff.) again mentions John's baptism.

Accordingly it is against that baptismal background that one must understand Jesus' pronouncement to Nicodemus. The message of the kingdom was bound up from the beginning not only with the call to repentance but also with water baptism, in close connection with which the baptism of the Holy Spirit had been held out as the gift of the Coming One (cf. 1:33). Therefore, "water and Spirit" can be used together of the birth needed to enter the kingdom: baptism as the putting off of the old, the Spirit as the creator and gift of the new life. It thus becomes clear why Jesus counters Nicodemus's seemingly positive and well-considered words with such a radical reply, one that shatters all human certainties. Where a person is actually confronted with the reality of the kingdom of God, that person's entire existence is at stake, and in this crisis something more is needed than what he or she claims to "know" on the basis of experience: only "water and Spirit," as the way and the gift of the new world of God, are relevant.

6 To demonstrate the necessity of such a new birth of the Spirit Jesus contrasts it with being "born of the flesh" as the mode of existence that belongs to humanity by nature and conditions all human thoughts and deeds. What is meant here by "flesh" can best be illumined with the aid of 1:13, where being "born of God" is opposed to being "born of blood, of the will of the flesh, of human will." Hence "flesh" denotes a person in his or her natural existence as begotten by a father and given birth to by a mother. It is that birth that both determines and limits the nature of human existence, which thus does not extend to the ability to see and enter the kingdom of God. This is not just a matter of "above" and "below" as two mutually exclusive modes of existence, since one, in virtue of its origin, is by definition inaccessible to the other. Being born of "water and Spirit" does not mean — and it is precisely the Fourth Gospel that is very emphatic about this — being released from the temporal and "fleshly" existence of this world; it means rather the subjection of the flesh to the reign of the Spirit, of reconciliation, forgiveness, and renewal, a reign that deeply enters the sphere of the flesh (see also the comments on 1:29-34 above).

Hence — according to vs. 7 — Nicodemus must not be too surprised87 over the fact that Jesus spoke of the necessity of being "born from above." How could that which is born of flesh, on its own strength as it were, secure for itself a share in the kingdom of God? Conversely, how could the Spirit, precisely as the Spirit of God and from above, not have the power to bring about this event, however puzzling and absurd it might seem to Nicodemus?

Verse 8 focuses on the positive side of Jesus' initial pronouncement and illumines it by means of the image of "wind." Both Hebrew and Greek have one word for "wind" and "spirit," and wind, in its power and effect, is a common image for the Spirit (e.g., Ac. 2:2; Ec. 11:5). Wind is observable,88 but it goes sovereignly where it pleases89 and is untraceable in its origin90 and disappearance.91. Also free, mighty, and untraceable in its movements is the Spirit in a person who is born of the Spirit.92

In all this the divine possibilities are set over against the impossibilities of humankind ("flesh"), but not just negatively but precisely to cause people to look away from their own (im)possibilities and toward God for their salvation. For the freedom of the Spirit to go where he pleases is not capriciousness but power that nothing can hold back. And the Spirit's untraceability is not anonymous incalculability but possession of means that humans cannot have but are possible with God (cf. Ro. ll:33ff.). It is in that way, a way not only determined by God but now opened up by him, that humans become participants in that new existence and hence gain entrance into the kingdom, which in vs. 16 is called eternal life. Accordingly, it is faith in the salvation thus revealed in Christ on which the now following verses focus and in which the "dialogue" with Nicodemus achieves its real goal.

Flesh and Spirit

In contrast with the above, scholars have sought to understand Jesus' pronouncements concerning birth from above and the contrast between flesh and Spirit against the background of certain forms from the contemporary Greek world of thought and religion. In this pericope, according to this approach, we have been given an important hermeneu tic key for the understanding of the Fourth Gospel: here the anthropological presuppositions that are determinative for Johannine soteriology and christology come to the surface. We are talking specifically of both C. H. Dodd's idealistic interpretation and R. Bultmann's Gnostic interpretation.

Dodd writes that in Jn. 3:Iff. we are very close to the widespread Hellenistic notion of the two levels of existence, "the upper world (τα άνω) which is the sphere of the νους [referred to as πνεṽμα in this passage] in which alone dwell light and immortality, and the lower world (τά κάτω) which is the sphere of the ṽλη or of darkness [σάρξ in this passage]." "The main theme of the discourse, then, is the passage of man out of the lower order of existence, the realm of the flesh, into the higher order of existence, the realm of spirit in which alone eternal life is his portion." Accordingly, we are told, we have here the (anthropological) key to the understanding of the nature of Jesus' public conduct: passage (or rebirth) into the higher order of existence underlies both the story of the wedding at Cana, where it is symbolized by the changing of water into wine, and the story of the cleansing of the temple.93

Bultmann rejects this idealistic understanding94 and believes one must rather explain the contrast in a sense characteristic of Gnostic anthropology. In his view "flesh" and "spirit" denote not just the lower and higher levels in the human person but the radical opposition between two mutually exclusive metaphysical principles, which Bultmann, with the aid of terms derived from existentialist philosophy, then "demythologizes" and further interprets. "Flesh" refers to "the nothingness of man's whole existence; to the fact that man is ultimately a stranger to his fate as to his own acts; that, as he now is, he does not enjoy authentic existence, whether he makes himself aware of the fact or whether he conceals it from himself. Correspondingly, 'spirit' refers to the miracle of a mode of being in which man enjoys authentic existence in which he understands himself and knows that he is no longer threatened by nothingness." Once a person has understood this, Jesus' statement to Nicodemus (vs. 7: "Do not marvel . . .") applies to that person.95

All this should show how far-reaching and profound the influence of the "anthropological" key one uses is in exposition of Jn. 3:1-8. It not only radically shapes one's concept of rebirth but also one's entire understanding of the coming and work of the Redeemer. Thus, according to Bultmann, vss. 3-8, in which the necessity of rebirth is spoken of, form the "explanation for the coming of the Revealer."96 Given this understanding, it is clear that the nature and goal of this coming are totally determined by one's anthropological "preunderstanding," one's understanding of what "flesh," "spirit," and "birth from above" presumably mean here.

However much these concepts and the opposition between flesh and spirit may function in a variety of forms in Hellenistic religion, this does not yet say anything about the background and meaning of this pair of opposites in the Fourth Gospel. Bultmann is surely correct when over against Dodd's interpretation he advances that the opposition between flesh and spirit in John is much more radical than that in the neo-Platonic idealism to which Dodd refers. But this is not yet to say that this opposition is rooted, as in Gnosticism, in an original and metaphysical dualism that, though in the gospel it has been stripped of its mythological and ontological character, nevertheless continues to shape the radical opposition that occurs in the "anthropology" of this Gospel.

In my opinion the opposition between flesh and Spirit — though in this connection it is not elaborated: see below! —has to be understood against a very different background. However sharp it may be, in the Fourth Gospel it is clearly not determined by an original dualism. The Fourth Gospel is, rather, sustained from the very beginning by the idea of the creation of all things by the Word. The Word did not come to a world that was foreign to him but to one that he had made, granted that it did not know him, and to his own, granted that his own did not receive him (l:9ff.). The opposition between flesh and Spirit primarily relates therefore to the creatureliness and dependence of humanity in relation to God as Spirit, Source, and Ruler of all of life. In that connection "flesh" does not denote what is "lower" in humankind but the whole human person, physical as well as spiritual. Accordingly, what is opposed to humankind in its "authentic existence" and threatens us as our "fate" is not our existence as flesh but the radical disturbance that has arisen in that existence as a result of the self-direction that has brought us into a position of estrangement from God, of guilt and powerlessness, of transience, uncertainty, and meaninglessness. Hence when, as here, the "Spirit" is contrasted with this powerlessness of the flesh to enter the kingdom of God and to inherit the true life, "Spirit" does not denote the great ontological anti-flesh principle, but God himself as the source of life (cf. 1:13) and above all in his restorative and life-renewing power as the only possibility left to humans to save them from lostness and alienation from God and to give them eternal life.

The opposition between "flesh and Spirit" thus understood also shows, however, that the dialogue about the necessity of rebirth must not be understood as an "anthropological insertion" into the christocentric construction of the Gospel followed up to this point, made in order to determine, from within this preunder-standing of what is human, the nature of the salvation that people need in order to enter the kingdom of God. All that is said in the dialogue before vs. 11 is that as flesh, and from within the "fleshly" orientation and perspective concerning Jesus ("we know"), no person can see or enter the kingdom of God. The alternatives "flesh" and "Spirit" are not "anthropological" in the sense of humankind as it is and as it should become in order to rise from the inferiority or nothingness of one existence (flesh) to a higher or "authentic" existence (Spirit). The alternatives rather concern humankind in its (fleshly) powerlessness over against the sovereignty and omnipotence of God (the Spirit), who alone can transform humankind, that is, grant us the needed rebirth from above.97 It is in that sense that vss. 1-10 constitute the introduction to what follows, an introduction that is significant not only because it so powerfully and rigorously poses the necessity of such a birth from above but because in precisely those terms it leads up to him who "is from above" and "comes from above" (cf. vss. 13,31; 8:23) and who therefore can only be known and received by those who are "born from above."

9,10 After Jesus' elucidation of his original pronouncement, Nicodemus still does not fathom the possibility of the things Jesus has spoken of, though he now no longer, as in vs. 2, attempts to demonstrate their absurdity. With "How can this be?"98 he is primarily responding to what Jesus has said concerning the working of the Spirit, but his skepticism concerning the "birth from above" continues to be present as an undertone. Jesus' reply, accordingly, does not limit itself to an explanation of the words he uttered last but places all he has said in the grand context of his coming and work.

Jesus does find fault with Nicodemus, and more emphatically than he did in vs. 7: "Are you the teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand this?" The emphatic "the teacher of Israel" means something like "the man who has to teach Israel the knowledge of God."99 In Jesus' coming and work is manifest the breakthrough toward the absolutely new, which requires a new approach, one that can be received only "from above." But this is not to say that the background (the "preunderstanding") for that approach was lacking in Israel, the people of God's revelation, or that the knowledge of it could not reasonably be expected from Israel's teachers. The prophets of Israel repeatedly spoke of a fundamental inner change and of the promise of the Spirit to that end (Ezk. 11:19ff.; 36:26f.; Is. 44:3; 59:21; Jr. 31:31ff.; Ps. 51:10). As far as the herme-neutical key to or horizon of Jesus' words is concerned, he did not speak from within a thought world or "anthropology" foreign to Nicodemus or Israel. In that respect, too, Jesus came to his own (1:11).

But Jesus does not stop to discuss that background. For, as indicated earlier, all his words about the necessity of rebirth are only intended, from within the glory of God manifest in Christ, to cut off all "fleshly" knowledge of Jesus ("we know," vs. 2). Hence the entire dialogue with Nicodemus now culminates in the new "we know" (of heavenly things) — though without his further participation.100

3:11-21

The Descent of the Son of Man

Beginning with vs. 11 the "dialogue" changes into a monologue. Nicodemus, though he is addressed one more time, does not reply again. Jesus does still address an audience (vss. lib, 12), still using the second person plural (as in vs. 7b). In vs. 13 the entire discourse seems to change in character. In keeping with the manner in which in vss. 13f. (as he does consistently elsewhere) Jesus speaks of the Son of man in the third person, in the succeeding verses of the pericope only the third person is used. Still, vss. 11-13 are still influenced by the encounter with Nicodemus, not only in the form of address ("you" singular, "you" plural) but also in the form of the pronouncements themselves.

Thus in vs. 11 it is said in the same emphatic tone as in vss. 3 and 5: "Truly, truly, I say to you [singular], we speak of what we know, and give witness to what we have seen. But you [plural] do not receive our testimony." This "we know" clearly echoes the "we know" of Nicodemus in vs. 2. In a sense one can say that the confrontation only really begins here: the reference is no longer (negatively) to the inadequacy of Nicodemus's knowledge but (positively) to another knowledge on the basis of which Jesus speaks. This discourse is further described as "bearing witness" on the basis of "what we have seen" and, therefore, as eyewitness testimony has judicially valid, faith-claiming force. Intended above all is the Son's nonmediated knowledge of the Father (cf. 1:18), which in vss. 31-36 is defined as knowledge on the part of him who "comes from above" and who "bears witness to what he has seen and heard" (vss. 31, 32f.; cf. 7:28f.). Elsewhere, too, Jesus bases his knowledge of God on what he has "seen" and "heard" (e.g., 5:19,20,30; 8:26,28,40,50; 12:50), and that in contrast with those who have never heard his voice or seen him (5:37; cf. 6:46).

To be sure, 3:11, in distinction from 3:31 and other passages, speaks of "we," a fact that has given rise to divergent interpretations. Some think that Jesus here identifies himself with the prophets, but then one has to take "what we have seen" as referring to visions, which certainly does not fit Jesus (see above). Others think the reference is to Jesus and John, a view that in my opinion is no less improbable (in view of "have seen"). Nowadays many interpreters understand the "we" as the "we" of the church (the so-called pluralis ecclesiasticus).101 But such a change of subject from Jesus to the church is hard to accept because vs. 1 lb is introduced with the emphatic "/ say to you" and because in vs. 12 Jesus again speaks of himself in the first person.

"Bear witness," in the Johannine (forensic) sense, is used, apart from Jesus himself, especially of his disciples as those "who were with him from the beginning," who on that basis bore witness concerning him (cf. 15:27; 19:35; 21:24), and of whom it can therefore be said — though in another sense than of Jesus himself (cf. 1:18; 6:46; see, however, also 14:7, 9) — that they bear witness to what they have seen and heard (cf. 1 Jn. l:lff.; Jn. 1:14). Accordingly, in vs. 1 lb the plural presumably relates not only to Jesus but also to his disciples as those whom he brought into his mission from above from the beginning (cf. 6:69).

It is "this unique character of eyewitness and this superior knowledge" that "come to expression in the 'we' forms in vs. 11 "102 and in which the fundamental difference from the "we know" of Nicodemus consists. At the same time, we have here the reason that Nicodemus and those who are represented by him ("we") require a "birth from above" if they are to understand what is happening in Jesus' coming. As long, therefore, as Nicodemus persists in his incomprehension with respect to Jesus' coming, the statement "but you do not receive our testimony" (cf. vss. 3If.), which is true of the "natural" person in general, applies to him. In that respect those who speak (as charitably) as Nicodemus are no different from other people. They acknowledge Jesus as a man of God endowed with special gifts, but they do not acknowledge him in his unique significance as the Son of God sent into the world, or, therefore, the secret of the Christian witness that proceeds from him.

Verse 12 confirms this with an argument a minori ad maius. The "earthly things" apparently are the matters that have been discussed in the preceding dialogue and not believed by Nicodemus. To be sure, the subject matter then also concerned being born "from above," etc., but in that light it was restricted to humanity and the earth, things that one would assume a teacher in Israel could understand and believe. If they could not believe these earthly things made known to them by Jesus, then how would they believe heavenly things? Still, the question of the "how" of the earthly things cannot be resolved without faith and insight into the heavenly things of which Jesus is about to speak. For in light of the heavenly things it will become clear that being born from above, from "water and Spirit," is not an "anonymous" miracle from above but something that occurs only through faith in him who came from above or, as vs. 13 has it, "descended from heaven."

Verse 13 is the pivotal text for the entire context, but it is very hard to exegete. Echoing "the heavenly things" of vs. 12, it mentions "heaven" twice, both times in connection with (the ascent and descent of) the Son of man, the one whom God was to endow with all power as the Christ (see the comments on 1:51). But why does Jesus suddenly refer to this ascent and descent? Is it because the Son of man has at his disposal knowledge of the "heavenly things" and has brought it with him as the one who descended from heaven? But then how is the prior clause ("No one has ascended into heaven") to be understood? Knowledge concerning heavenly things cannot be based on the fact that the Son of man (first) ascended to heaven, but only on the fact that as the one sent by the Father, the incarnate Word, he came from heaven. In other words, his descent precedes his ascent and not vice versa.

Those who think the reference here is to knowledge of the heavenly things (the majority of interpreters) are therefore compelled either to construe "ascend" in the first clause in a wider sense ("no one has ever been in heaven" or the like) or to assume an elliptical construction here ("no one ascended to heaven — and has seen heavenly things there — only the Son of man who descended from heaven has seen them"). This last view is defended at length by E. Ruckstuhl, who assumes that the first clause in vs. 13 refers not to the Son of man but to "not any one, whoever that may be." The language is said to be that of wisdom, with special reference to Pr. 30:4, which also mentions ascent and descent. The idea is that no one has ever been able to ascend on high to bring down the hidden Wisdom. Only one was there — Wisdom itself, now incarnate in Jesus.103 This entire view is implausible, however, not only because of the tortuous sentence construction one has to assume, but also because it subsumes everything under the category of wisdom (incarnate) simply on the basis of similarity of language with Pr. 30:4. However, not Wisdom (which is nowhere mentioned) but the Son of man is here the dominant figure (cf. vs. 14); his descent from heaven itself constitutes the core of "the heavenly things."

In my opinion the issue is not who brought knowledge of the heavenly things to earth; the reference is to the ascent and descent itself as the divine work of redemption to be accomplished by the Son of man.104 Ascent to heaven is not acquisition of knowledge from heaven (cf. Dt. 30:12; Pr. 30:4, etc.). It should rather be understood in the same sense as "the ascent of the Son of man in 6:62, namely as participation in the divine glory (cf. 20:17; 17:5), what in 3:14 is called the "lifting up" of the Son of man, which entails salvation for those who believe in him. All these contexts (cf. also 8:28; 12:32) refer to the Son of man — occasionally alternating with the Son of God (cf. vss. 16f.) — because in this Gospel (as in the Synoptics) that is the name that denotes the transcendent character of Jesus' messianic identity (and the kingdom of God represented by him; see the comments above on 1:51).

The staggering truth of what is said in vss. 13-16, however, is that there simply cannot be any talk of such a heavenly position of power ("no one") unless — as is true of the Son of man — a descent from heaven has preceded the ascent to heaven. In other words, the mystery of God's revelation in Christ consists in the incarnation of the Word as the gift from God of his only begotten Son, which is basic to the coming of the kingdom and the exercise of power by the Son of man. This is further explicated in vs. 14, which is simply joined with what precedes by the conjunction "and."

Even given this as the explanation (the only possible one, I believe) of the order (no ascent except by way of descent), the first clause remains somewhat problematic. One might get the impression that the ascent in question has already been accomplished ("has ascended"). This is sometimes explained by saying that the Evangelist is speaking from a postascension standpoint, one that is no longer related to the situation of the encounter with Nicodemus. But vs. 14, where the exaltation of the Son of man is presented as a future event, argues against this, as does the fact that Jesus speaks about the heavenly things not as one who ascended but as the descended one (vs. 11). For that reason one has to take the perfect in the first clause of vs. 13 not in the historic sense, as referring to a completed action, but in the gnomic sense of a general pronouncement;105 or — and this seems no less probable — as a reflection of Dn. 7:13f., where we read of such an ascent and exaltation in a prophetic apocalyptic sense (cf. "where he was before," 6:62).106

Verses 14 and 15 speak with increasing clarity about the way this descent and ascent of the Son of man, as well as the salvation represented in those events, is effected. Vs. 14 does so by comparing the raising up of the Son of man with that of the serpent in the wilderness. The reference is to the story in Nu. 21:8f., where Moses raised a serpent up on a pole as a visible sign of salvation for all who thought they were about to die. Jesus speaks of the exaltation of the Son of man, so "lifted up" acquires a double meaning here (as also in 8:28; 12:32, 34): the exaltation of the Son of man (= his glorification) is effected by his being raised up on a cross. The comparison brings this last meaning to the fore as tertium comparationis, since the element of glorification cannot be applied to the serpent. In this connection the redemption-historical "necessity" ("must be") of this being "lifted up" is important, strongly reminiscent as it is of passages like Mt. 16:21; Lk. 9:22 in which the humiliation of the Son of man is described as the way of his exaltation and is related to

God's counsel of salvation. Still — and this is typical for the Fourth Gospel — the crucifixion is not presented as Jesus' humiliation but as the exaltation of the Son of man. The reason, obviously, is that Jesus' suffering and death were the way in which he would return to God and be glorified by him and that in that way he would grant eternal life to those who believed in him (vs. 15). This last point again ties in clearly with Numbers 21: Just as gazing at the serpent was the God-given means of life, a sign both of God's will to save and of his power over death, so Jesus as the Son of man in his suffering and death on the cross also embodies God's will to save and power over death. But it "had to" happen in the way of the descent from heaven, of the incarwation of the Word, of his suffering and dying on the cross. Later, therefore, the living bread that came down from heaven and that "the Son of man will give" (6:27) will also be called his "flesh" that he gives for the life of the world, and only those who "eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood" will have life in themselves (6:51, 53).

But all this is not further explicated, at least not in vss. 14 and 15. Here the reference is to "whoever believes in him."107 The object of this faith is the Son of man as the crucified one as well as the crucified Son of man. The Son of man "must" go this way, which is inconceivable to the flesh. But he takes it as one destined by God to the highest glory, as one who enters death in order thus, like the serpent lifted up by Moses, to be the great sign that in him God has the will and the capacity to save from destruction everyone who believes. Faith receives its character from the one as well as from the other truth. It is faith in the powerful Messiah-King promised by God, the Son of man, but in him as the crucified one; it is faith in the power of him who is powerless in the flesh and in the eyes of the flesh. Therein, also, lies the difference from "belief in his name" (2:23), which rests exclusively on the manifestation of Jesus' power and which by itself need be no more than a conclusion of which the "flesh" is capable. But to be able to see and to believe in the heaven-descended, cross-exalted Son of man — that takes a different set of eyes, and for that one must be born from above.

Verse 16 reduces all this to its deepest underlying cause and to its ultimate simplicity with an explanatory statement: "For God so loved the world. . . ." What Moses did at God's instruction in the wilderness, lift up the serpent, was great and marvelous. But nowhere more clearly than here do we see the difference (described also in 1:17) between what God gave through Moses and the grace and truth that came through Jesus Christ (cf. 6:32).

All the emphasis here lies on the "so": "in this manner," "in this measure." This word refers back to the "how" of the lifting up of the Son of man, but it also directs the reader's attention to the measure of God's love that underlies that lifting up. All the terminology is attuned to the latter. Here we read not of the Son of man but of God's only-begotten Son (cf. 1:18), so designated here as the highest gift God could give (cf. Ro. 8:32: "who did not spare his own Son"; Gn. 22:16). And we read "gave" in the sense of what is elsewhere called "giving up," "surrendering" (e.g., Ro. 4:25; 8:32; Mk. 9:31), namely to death on the cross.108 All this shows how in the Fourth Gospel, as elsewhere in the New Testament, the God-given sacrifice of Christ is of central significance. This is surely the case also because in that surrender the glory of God manifested itself so clearly "in the flesh" of the man Jesus, but above all because it brought to its highest manifestation the measure of God's love for the world (cf. 13:1).

There is a close connection here with the utterance of John the Baptist in 1:29 (35): "Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world!" That utterance includes no reflection on the death of Christ,109 and 3:16 does not mention in so many words the sin of the world as that which makes necessary God's surrender of his Son. The common component in the two pronouncements is that it is God who makes the all-embracing sacrifice for the world. There is no further analysis of why God loves thus. The text's exclusive concern is the fact and the magnitude of God's love. It is love that not only manifests itself in God's power over death, the death into which the world (like Israel in the wilderness) would sink; in the death of Christ it also identifies with the world in its lostness and thus imparts the deepest meaning to the great statement in the prologue, "and the Word became flesh."

Again, as in vs. 15, we read: ". . . that whoever believes in him (the Son) . . .," and again the essence of believing in his name becomes clear. The starting point of faith does not lie in the fact that the world returned to God in the ascent of the Son of man and so found its lost self, any more than the starting point of faith in the incarnation lies in the fact that in the man Jesus God again put the world on the track of true humanity ("not perish," "have eternal life"). The starting point is that God in his eternal love returned to the world as to his own, that he loved it in the surrender of his only-begotten Son (cf. 3:35), and that the Father loves the Son because he gave his own life (cf. 10:15) in a love that persisted to the end (cf. 13:Iff.). It is faith in a path that, before it ascended to the glory of heaven, first descended to the depth of the earth, that is not itself from below but from above as the sign of true sonship and of those who are born of God (cf. l:12f.).

17-18 If thus, as the content of the heavenly things, vss. 13-16 refer above all to the great salvation-historical ("eschatological") events effected in the mission of Jesus as the Son of God, the consequence for humanity and the world is an all-determining final decision. Already vss. 15 and 16 mentioned "eternal life" twice as the presently inaugurated gift for one who believes (and thus "has" eternal life).110 Vss. 17ff. refer to the decisive "critical" character of the mission of the Son of God. In close connection with vs. 16, but now per negationem, the divine will to save that is manifest in this mission is again confirmed, and any notion that the Father sent the Son into the world to judge the world is banished. The idea in itself is not foreign: throughout prophecy the coming of the kingdom of God is accompanied by the judgment of God over his enemies (cf. also Mt. 3:7f. par.), and judgment is part of the fullness of the divine powers of the Son of man (cf. 5:22, 27; Mt. 25:31ff.). But in the present passage everything is viewed from the perspective of the mission of the Son and the descent of the Son of man from heaven. And that mission and descent have no other purpose, as the Evangelist keeps saying (cf. 12:47; 8:15), than to open a way, in him, for faith and for the world's salvation.

This is not (vs. 18) to delay the decision; on the contrary, it is to bring it closer. For he who descended is God's only-begotten Son, and God has put "all things into his hand" (vs. 35). For that reason the Son has the power even now to release people from their guilt ("authority on earth to forgive sins," Mt. 9:6), and one who believes in him does not come under judgment. In the fellowship of faith with him judgment is suspended. And conversely, one who does not believe in him is already under judgment. The judgment to come in the confrontation with the coming judge of the world has become for that person an issue of great present relevance. The perfect tense ("are condemned") refers to the situation in which that person has placed himself or herself, not on account of the verdict already pronounced by the Son, but "because he (or she) has not believed in the name of the only Son of God." That person has not acknowledged the saving love of God manifest in his Son; and that does not only mean not to know God's love but to live under the doom of its absence, the privatio actuosa. Still for that person, too, the truth is that the coming of the Son is not aimed at condemnation. That person still has to deal, not with the judge of the world in his heavenly glory, but with the Son who has descended into the world and who continues to woo people with the love of God, yet even now with no other purpose than to save the world, even those in the world who do not believe in him (cf. 5:34).

A striking feature of this passage, finally, is the degree to which everything is concentrated on the importance of believing. Whereas in vss. 1-8 the birth from above is posed above all else as the indispensable condition for entry into the kingdom of God, in vs. 12 and especially in vss. 15ff. the crucial importance of believing comes increasingly to the fore. It is clear that the one cannot do without the other: the birth from above, however much it is a miracle of the Spirit, is not effected without the call to faith and the response of faith. Nor is faith simply a stage in the salvation-order transformation of a person; it rather describes the totality of transformation as the work of the Spirit. And in this connection faith is always the way in which and the means by which the new life comes into being. It is for this reason that all the emphasis falls on believing.

On the other hand, it is no less true that the new birth does not rest on an antecedent human decision. Faith is not the response of the higher or the better self to the message of the gospel. Nor is it an enlivening in the prisonhouse of the flesh by a voice in which a person recognizes himself in his divine origin, his deepest "disposition," his "authentic existence," or the like, for as we read in 5:25: "The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live" (cf. vs. 24). In other words, faith belongs to the ministry and miracle of the Spirit. It is not a predisposition that is already present but a decision that is realized in the address of the Word and that is subject to the moral power that proceeds from that Word. There can be a "hearing" and a "seeing" only when the Word is understood and followed in accordance with its meaning (cf. 5:25; 6:26).

In this connection much has been, and is being, written about the Johannine idea of predestination,111 and the reference to texts like 6:37, 39, 44; 10:29; 17:2ff. is self-evident. And, in contrast, when it comes to faith or the call to faith the Evangelist obviously does not think of a preestablished divine decision, for his entire Gospel is a continuing struggle on behalf of faith and a continual indictment of the culpable and mysterious character of unbelief. Especially in the dialogue with Nicodemus, where the necessity of birth from above is so clearly asserted, not believing and not accepting (vss. 12, 13, 18ff.) are not attributed to the flesh, and the situation of Nicodemus himself is viewed not as closed but as clearly kept open.112 The Spirit is like the wind, blowing where it wills. Hence one must inevitably conclude that every deterministic schematism is as alien to the gospel as is any dogma of inviolable human freedom. Faith will always bear on its face the sign of the grace of being a child of God, just as unbelief bears the sign of disobedience to the summons of the gospel (cf. vs. 36; see also the comments on l:12f.).

Finally, in vss. 19-21, the background and significance of the faith and unbelief mentioned in vs. 18 are further elucidated. The beginning of vs. 19, "and this is the judgment" (krisis in vs. 19, as in vs. 18, means "judgment" and not just "separation") means something like: And, this is the reason — despite the contrary intention of God — the coming of the Son has turned into a judgment for unbelievers: "People" have not been able to bear the light of his coming, which arose over their darkness, and therefore have turned away from him.113 "People" refers to the world as a whole. The passage is strongly reminiscent of l:4f., 9-11. But now this not knowing and nonacceptance are explained: people have loved darkness more114 than the light. The reason is that "their deeds were evil." In the nature of the case, the author's concern is not just with evil deeds but with people. But here and in vss. 20f. the emphasis, in connection with the image of the light, is on the deeds. When the light appears, people become manifest first of all in their deeds.

The fact that evildoers are averse to the light is repeated, as a kind of rule of experience, in vs. 20: "Everyone who occupies himself/herself in doing115 worthless/reprehensible things hates the light." That person does not come to the light so that his or her work will not be manifest in its true nature, unmasked as evil and worthless.116

Verse 21, by contrast, speaks of the one who "does what is true," an expression that, like others in this context, has a strong Semitic flavor.117 It is literally "act in such a way that truth comes into being,"118 "truth" being that which is trustworthy, genuine, and nondeceptive. One who so acts "comes toward the light," and here we have the question whether this statement refers to experience in general or specifically to the coming of the Son of God as light. The conclusion of the sentence might suggest the latter, though the idea expressed can have a broader meaning. The idea is not that he who does what is true comes to the light to bring his deeds as much as possible into public view — to "show them off" as it were — but to make them cognizable as having been done "in God" (that is, in communion with him and in keeping with his will) and thus to identify himself in his deepest intentions. The fact that in the conflict between truth and error, uprightness and deception, reality and illusion one person shuns the light and another is attracted to the light is not just a matter of psychology or of a good or a bad conscience. At its root it is a matter of "being" of God or not of God, that is, of the devil (8:44; 1 Jn. 2:21). For that reason one hates the light not only out of fear that he wil 1 be unmasked by it but because the darkness is his or her natural element; and the other comes to the light out of knowledge that he or she is profoundly understood there.

One may still ask whether in this way everything — faith and unbelief, being saved or being lost — is not reduced merely to the "moral issue" of doing evil or doing good deeds. But after all that has been said about the descent of the Son of man and the birth from above as a birth of the Spirit, that can hardly be the conclusion or intent. The repeated and emphatic mention of "deeds" is due not to the idea that in the end it is works and not faith that is decisive for entry into the kingdom of God; it is based rather on the idea (deeply rooted in the Old Testament and the religion based on it) that the truth is practical, that something must be done, and that what most deeply motivates a person becomes cognizable in his or her deeds (cf. Mt. 7:16ff.). Accordingly, that is what the light of Christ brings into the open either as evil and worthless or as true and done "in God" and hence as coming from him. The antithesis is posed in such absolute terms because the light in view here is the light of the Word, which was in the beginning with God and was God, and because "in him was life, and the life was the light of humanity" (1:4). What light and darkness, life and nonlife, "evil and worthless" and "doing the truth" are, therefore, is determined by whether or not one knows and accepts the light (cf. 1:4, 5, 9ff.). "Because their deeds were evil" extends, therefore, beyond a merely moral judgment. It concerns the nature of the darkness of life outside God and of the evil works done outside of God.

All this does not mean, meanwhile, that the light that came with the sending of God's Son into the world has no other purpose than to make visible this difference between the two kinds of people. It undeniably has this effect. Still, it is the descent of the Son of man and the incarnation of the Word that should banish from our minds any notion that this effect is what is primarily at stake. The light that comes into the world and penetrates it, however true it is that it absolutely unmasks the darkness and everything that is done outside of God, has no other aim than to attract the world to the light of God's love, in order that everyone who believes in the Son should not perish in darkness (cf. 8:12).

2 John 3:22-36 (NLT)

John the Baptist Exalts Jesus

22 Then Jesus and his disciples left Jerusalem and went into the Judean countryside. Jesus spent some time with them there, baptizing people.

23 At this time John the Baptist was baptizing at Aenon, near Salim, because there was plenty of water there; and people kept coming to him for baptism. 24 (This was before John was thrown into prison.) 25 A debate broke out between John’s disciples and a certain Jew[i] over ceremonial cleansing. 26 So John’s disciples came to him and said, “Rabbi, the man you met on the other side of the Jordan River, the one you identified as the Messiah, is also baptizing people. And everybody is going to him instead of coming to us.”

27 John replied, “No one can receive anything unless God gives it from heaven. 28 You yourselves know how plainly I told you, ‘I am not the Messiah. I am only here to prepare the way for him.’ 29 It is the bridegroom who marries the bride, and the bridegroom’s friend is simply glad to stand with him and hear his vows. Therefore, I am filled with joy at his success. 30 He must become greater and greater, and I must become less and less.

31 “He has come from above and is greater than anyone else. We are of the earth, and we speak of earthly things, but he has come from heaven and is greater than anyone else.[j] 32 He testifies about what he has seen and heard, but how few believe what he tells them! 33 Anyone who accepts his testimony can affirm that God is true. 34 For he is sent by God. He speaks God’s words, for God gives him the Spirit without limit. 35 The Father loves his Son and has put everything into his hands. 36 And anyone who believes in God’s Son has eternal life. Anyone who doesn’t obey the Son will never experience eternal life but remains under God’s angry judgment.”

 Basic Commentary on John 3:22-36

Commentary on John 3:22-36

Choose Jesus

John the Baptist had become a celebrity. He had a remarkable ministry. People ‘were constantly coming [to him] to be baptised’ (v.23). John’s followers were very competitive. They became envious of Jesus’ success. They came to John and said about Jesus, ‘He’s now competing with us... everyone’s going to him instead of us’ (v.26, MSG).

John had to choose how he responded. He began by pointing out to his disciples that ‘it’s not possible for a person to succeed – I’m talking about eternal success – without heaven’s help’ (v.27, MSG). He chose to point people to Jesus rather than to himself: ‘You yourselves can testify that I said, “I am not the Christ but am sent ahead of him.”’ (v.28).

John likens his own position to ‘the friend who attends the bridegroom’ (whom we might call the ‘best man’). Far from being threatened by the arrival of the groom, it is the very thing he has been waiting for, and he is delighted by it. Likewise, John explains that he has been waiting for Jesus, and is ‘full of joy’ at Jesus’ ministry. Jesus was John the Baptist’s successor. John says of Jesus: ‘He must become greater; I must become less’ (v.30).

At times, all of us may be driven to become greater, more important, more honoured, more highly promoted or better qualified. These are not all bad aims in themselves, but our daily choices will be swayed by these ambitions. You have to choose how you live your life. Are you focused on your promotion or on exalting Jesus? Is your ambition more for yourself or for Jesus?

Sometimes, we even see different Christian ministries competing with each other. This should never happen.

Echo these words in your heart: ‘He must become greater; I must become less’ (v.30). Ultimately, the focus is not on yourself – it is always on Jesus. Our ambition must always be to point people to Jesus.

John highlights the real issue: ‘Whoever accepts and trusts the Son gets in on everything, life complete and forever! And that is also why the person who avoids and distrusts the Son is in the dark and doesn’t see life. All he experiences of God is darkness, and an angry darkness at that’ (v.36, MSG).

That is the most vital choice of all – do I choose Jesus or reject him?

Lord, I choose that you ‘must become greater; I must become less’ (v.30). Fill me with the Holy Spirit so that I may speak the words of God, enabling others to believe in the Son.

 Advanced commentary

3:22-30

John the Baptist's Final Testimony

Verses 22 and 23 depict the situation of the continuing activity of Jesus and John the Baptist. "After this" in vs. 22 is very general but apparently means "after Jesus' stay in Jerusalem as described in the preceding section." There is no mention of a place where Jesus and his disciples stayed in "the land of Judea."

As to Jesus' activity we are told only that he "baptized," and this we are told clearly in preparation for what follows (cf. vs. 26). This striking statement — nowhere else in the tradition are we told of Jesus baptizing — is restricted in 4:2 to Jesus' disciples. The idea that here the Evangelist uses another tradition (according to which Jesus himself baptized) so as to contrast Jesus' baptism, as a baptism with the Holy Spirit, with John's baptism119 is fraught with difficulties. Not only does the correction in 4:2 then have to be from a later author (or editor) who directly opposed the Evangelist's intent (see the comments below on 4:2), but the whole idea that in the dialogue between John and his disciples the issue was one of concern over this kind of superiority of Jesus' baptism over that of John can in no way be derived from the text. All the emphasis, in this view, would then lie on vs. 34, where alone the Spirit is mentioned. But vs. 34 belongs to another context (see below), and what occasioned John to speak of Jesus as he does in vss. 27ff. was his disciples' complaint that "all" were going to Jesus to be baptized (vs. 26). There is no question that "all" received the baptism of the Spirit, and according to the Evangelist's own estimate (cf. 7:39) that was simply not yet a possibility.

Hence the activity of Jesus described in 3:22 can, in my opinion, only be interpreted to mean that, just as John for a time continued his activity even after Jesus' appearance, so Jesus and the disciples who followed him did not immediately abandon the pattern of John's preaching of an approaching kingdom and the baptism of repentance that went with it. This is apparent, with regard to Jesus' preaching, from Mt. 4:17; 3:2, where Jesus' message ("Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand") is identical to that of John. That this call to repentance with a view to entry into the kingdom was accompanied also in Jesus' ministry by the "baptism of repentance" is not hard to understand (cf. 3:5), even if it should eventually become evident that Jesus' ministry and baptism embraced far more than that of John. Still, this link with John's baptism means that the turning point in the history of salvation represented by Jesus, a turning point to which John had borne witness, precisely in relation to the baptisms of both, did not manifest itself in Jesus' public ministry as a sharply demarcated break but rather as an increasingly more manifest fulfillment of the preparatory work of the Baptist.

But from the outset it could escape no one that Jesus was very different from John and that in his preaching and baptism he had much more to offer than his predecessor. The difference manifested itself not only in their outer appearance and public conduct (cf. Mt. ll:18ff.) but above all in the authority with which, both in words and miraculous deeds, Jesus proclaimed the richly salvific significance of the kingdom that was at hand — which was undoubtedly why so many more people came to him than to John (vs. 26; cf. 4:1). In this connection perhaps some light is cast on the remarkable statement in 4:2 that not Jesus himself but his disciples baptized: by not baptizing Jesus immediately distinguished himself from John, even while he sought to maintain continuity with his forerunner through his disciples' baptizing. But for them as well their activity as disciples of Jesus would in time not be linked with the forerunner's baptism but would rather become their baptism — mandated to them by Jesus on the basis of his universal authority — in the name of the Father, the Son, and Holy Spirit (Mt. 28:16-20).

23 The (new) place where John's baptized ("Aenon near Salim") cannot be identified with certainty, though it is clear from vs. 26 that it was on the west side of the Jordan. According to an ancient Greek tradition the Salim referred to here was in the northern part of the Jordan valley, in the watery plain of Beth Shean (Scythopolis).120 But other locations to the south have been considered.121 Some believe the reference is symbolic: Aenon (= "spring") near Salim ("salvation"), with Aenon understood as the place where Jesus lived. But though the Evangelist sometimes refers to the symbolic meaning of the name of an actual place (cf. 9:7), there is no such allusion here, nor is the name fictitious, since such symbolism would have been attached to the place where Jesus baptized. And the symbolic interpretation that has been suggested is too far-fetched for us to attribute it to the Evangelist.

24 Of more importance to us is the parenthetical statement that John had not yet been put in prison. The Evangelist clearly alludes here to the violent ending — assumed to be familiar to the original readers — of John's activity, without, however, relating the story of how it occurred (which we find in the

Synoptics). We find a reference to the brevity of John's ministry only in 5:35. The seemingly superfluous insertion here in 3:24 is linked perhaps with the Synoptic tradition according to which Jesus' ministry in Galilee occurred after the arrest of John (Mk. 1:14; Mt. 4:12), the Evangelist explicitly indicating here that John and Jesus acted and worked side by side in Israel for a time. Although the Synoptics, especially Luke (cf. 4:14), suggest that, immediately after his baptism by John and the temptation in the wilderness, Jesus returned to Galilee and began his public ministry there, the chronological order of events remains murky. Must we conclude from Luke that John, after he baptized Jesus, was immediately imprisoned by Herod? In Matthew (4:12) Jesus' going to Galilee is immediately described as a "withdrawal," which suggests that he retreated from the center of Jewish life for reasons of security (cf. Jn. 4:1, 44). That assumes that he had become known among the people.

So, although the Synoptics — Matthew and Luke following Mark in this — place the beginning of Jesus' activity in Galilee, the portrayal in Jn. 3:22ff. is not for that reason less trustworthy. It rather provides more historical perspective on the beginning of Jesus' ministry and hence more insight into his "withdrawal" to Galilee: his spectacular conduct in Jerusalem and Judea led to this development.122

The description of John's "final" testimony concerning Jesus at this point in the Fourth Gospel also finds a ready explanation in this development. It clearly assumes that Jesus has become known and popular among the people and can therefore hardly be viewed, as some authors wish,123 as an alternative to John's testimony, reported earlier. It may be true that the Evangelist had no concern to "correct" the historical situation (as compared with that of Synoptics?). His interest clearly lies in the material thrust of the story. But this does not remove the fact that the latter in its very "intentionality" represents a tradition that lifts the edge of the curtain on a period in the life of Jesus into which we would otherwise have no insight at all.

25 John's testimony was occasioned by a dispute of John's disciples124 with a certain Jew125 about "purification." It is not clear precisely what started the dispute. The purification in question presumably refers to the baptism (cf. vs. 26), although this designation for baptism is unusual. But what was the point of the dispute, who was this Jew, and what did he advocate over against John's disciples? Was John's baptism the subject of discussion — possibly in relation to Jewish practices of the day?126 To judge by vs. 26, the baptism now administered by Jesus and his disciples was also drawn into the dispute. This naturally led to the question by whom one should be baptized, John or Jesus, and whose baptism was more effective.

26 Whatever may have been involved in this dispute for John's disciples, it prompted their need to speak to their master. And what played a no less important role was that the number of people who went to Jesus began completely to overshadow the number of those who came to John.

One is struck by the impersonal way in which John's disciples refer to Jesus: "he who was with you beyond the Jordan, the one to whom you bore witness." Apparently they had been present on the occasion or at least had heard of it. It had not, however, prompted them to join others in following Jesus. On the contrary, they witnessed with displeasure how Jesus' influence grew and that of their master declined, and now they express their feelings in a way ("all") that betrays their envy and unhappiness. It is hard to say with any certainty whether there is an allusion here to a continuing controversy between the disciples of John and the later Christian church — especially because there is a lack of clear data on that controversy. In any case, one gets a very one-sided picture here if one tries to interpret this pericope totally or primarily from the vantage point of a polemic against the "Baptist sect" of the time of the Evangelist in which John is supposedly brought in as the main witness against his own later followers.127 Rather, this final testimony of John shows positively the extent to which he — as a model to all other witnesses of Jesus — fulfilled to the end, and in keeping with its nature, the mission mandated to him by God (cf. 1:6).

27 In his more or less aphoristic reply John reminds his disciples first of all of the principle that no one can "receive" (in the sense of "appropriate," "have") anything "except what is given128 to him from heaven."129 This does not mean that everything a person manages to lay claim to has come to him as a gift from God (cf. 19:11); it means rather that a person has a thing at his disposal only if and to the extent that God permits. One could take this statement in both negative and positive senses, that is, with reference to both John's "decrease" and Jesus' "increase." But that understanding does not fit very well with vs. 26. Undoubtedly the point here is that Jesus "received" more people than his forerunner in accord with God's plan.130

28 And that more people went to Jesus was also in keeping with John's earlier witness concerning Jesus. John does not merely acknowledge this because events force him to. He calls his disciples to witness that from the beginning he has referred to himself not as the Messiah but as the Messiah's forerunner (cf. 1:20, 23, 27).

29, 30 This relationship between John and Jesus is now elaborated with the aid of a wedding metaphor. The point of comparison is the difference between the bridegroom and "the friend of the bridegroom." The bridegroom is the principal person because "he has the bride."131 The "friend," familiar from the Jewish life of the day, is the one who both before and during the wedding assists the bridegroom in everything having to do with the wedding. His goal is achieved and his happiness is complete132 only, when at the feast, standing by the bridegroom,133 he can witness the bridegroom's unconcealed joy.

It is not merely with resignation therefore that John witnesses Jesus' success among the people; it is rather a sense of full and unmixed joy that fills him when he sees that his work of preparation has reached its intended goal. All that is now left for him to do is to withdraw like the friend of the bridegroom. By way of conclusion that is now succinctly expressed: "He must increase, but I must decrease." This is the divinely ordered, salvation-historical "must" to which John refers (see the comments above on 3:14). John stands at the border of two worlds, two dispensations (cf. Mt. 11:11-13).134 The old has run its course; the time of fulfillment has come, in which, the more radiantly the rising sun begins to shine, the more John's star will grow dim (his words here are often understood in the sense of the increase and decrease of the light of celestial bodies).135

With this last statement the witness of John to Jesus, which already in the prologue (l:6ff., 15) plays such an important role in the Fourth Gospel, is pithily concluded. In what follows there is more than one reference to him as the great witness to the truth (5:33; 10:41). But from now on the light of the lamp, in which people had occasion to rejoice for a while (5:35), will pale, and the entire focus will steadily be on the greater one, the one to whom John had witnessed so forcefully. The pericope that now follows provides, as it were, an interim epilogue that sums up that superior greatness.

3:31-36

Epilogue

Verses 31-36 are joined to what precedes without explanation or attribution. It is more or less natural to take them as a continuation of the words of John the Baptist, who would thus continue to speak of Jesus' superior greatness, though no longer in relation to himself, as in the preceding verses. The reference to the gift of the Spirit (vs. 34) is said to fit very well among the words of the Baptist (cf. 1:26, 31). For that reason there have always been scholars who accept the traditional view that vss. 31-36 belong to John's response — which began in vs. 26 — to the words of his disciples.136

It has been correctly noted, however, that the content of vss. 31-36 has many more points of contact with the dialogue with Nicodemus: "from above" (vs. 31; cf. vss. 3, 7), "comes from heaven" (vs. 31b; cf. vs. 13), "is of the earth/speaks of the earth" (vs. 31; cf. vss. 6, 12), "bears witness to what he has seen and heard" (vs. 32; cf. vs. 11), "(not) receive his testimony" (vss. 32f.; cf. vs. 11), "the gift of the Spirit" (vs. 34; cf. vss. 5f.), and "believe in the Son" and "have eternal life" (vs. 36; cf. vss. 15f.). This parallelism is so strong that a number of commentators even believe that we have here a displaced part of the dialogue with Nicodemus, which they would insert after vs. 21.

But as Dodd has noted, vs. 31 does not naturally follow vs. 21,137 though it does form a good transition after vs. 30. There is more to be said, therefore, for viewing vss. 31-36 as a sort of meditation on everything that precedes. Some consider it an epilogue written by the Evangelist himself, while others view the material as words of Jesus inserted here by the Evangelist. An obvious argument for the first is that throughout the passage Jesus is spoken of in the third person, though the same is true of vss. 13ff., for which reason those verses are sometimes viewed as a gradual transition from Jesus' words to the Evangelist's commentary. But others have pointed out that what is said there about Jesus has strong affinities with what Jesus says in the first person about himself in 12:46-48.138

From all this it may be inferred that what is said in ch. 3 about Jesus in the third person (vss. 13ff., 31 ff.) is intended by the Evangelist to be understood materially as the words of Jesus, but the boundaries between Jesus' self-testimony and the Evangelist's witness to Jesus seem to be indefinite, at least in this chapter (cf. 14:26; 15:26ff.).

In that sense, then, we may view vss. 31-36 as a recapitulating epilogue subjoined by the Evangelist to the dialogues reported in vss. 1-30, but derived from what Jesus revealed concerning himself.139 The subject of this epilogue is the surpassing significance of Jesus Christ as the one sent from God, which was fundamentally also the content both of the preceding self-definition of John in relation to Jesus and especially of the dialogue with Nicodemus, in which Jesus is described as the Son of man come down from heaven and as the only-begotten Son of God sent into the world (vss. 13ff.).

Verses 31 and 32 again put all the emphasis on this heavenly origin of Jesus: "He who comes from above is above all." "From above" alternates here with "from heaven" as a conventional reference to the world of God, to which no one can ascend (cf., e.g., Dt. 30:12). The specific meaning of this pronouncement emerges from the contrast with what is said of the one "who is of the earth" — again a reference to humankind in its natural existence as those "born of the flesh" (vss. 6b, 7; 1:13). The human person "is of the earth," that is, is characterized and shaped in his or her entire existence and possibilities by the earth140 and "speaks of the earth." Therefore, he who comes from above is qualitatively distinct from and above all.141 What he, as the one come down from heaven, has seen and heard (vs. 32), that he bears witness to. So again we hear of the contrast of both "knowledge" and "speech" (which also dominated the beginning of the dialogue with Nicodemus: cf. vss. 2, 11) and of the testimony of and to Jesus as one who heard and saw heavenly things (see the comments on vs. 11). Of that testimony we are told that "no one receives his testimony" (cf. 1 : lOf.). That general judgment corresponds with what is said in vs. 31 about the one who is "of the earth." That person is so totally conditioned by the earth that he or she does not recognize the one who comes from above and does not accept his testimony, even if on the basis of earthly knowledge he or she comes to Jesus with ever so much respect. Hence the absolute "no one."

33-35 As in 1:10-12, universal rejection is immediately followed by "[but] whoever does receive his testimony." That this can only occur in virtue of new birth "from above," "from the Spirit," "from God" (3:3, 5; 1:13) is not mentioned again. The focus is rather on the effect of acceptance or rejection of the testimony. To receive Jesus' testimony is to "seal [confirm, validate] that God is true" (just as one who does not believe makes God a liar; cf. 1 Jn 5:9f.). That and nothing less is at stake: not just the truthfulness and trustworthiness of him who was sent but also that of the Sender. For the Father identifies himself with the one he has sent to such an extent that the words that one speaks are "the words of God." "For it is not by measure that he [the Father] gives [Jesus] the Spirit."142 Jesus is not merely a prophet who speaks the word of God on occasion, when called on to do so. His authority to speak as God is unlimited, or as vs. 35 has it: "The Father loves the Son and has given all things into his hand."

With mounting urgency and increasing simplicity the "above all" of him who "came from above" is made personal and identified as divine, a pattern that culminates in the statement that distills the essence of it all: "The Father loves the Son," which refers back to 1:18 and recurs in the Gospel (5:20; 10:17; 15:9; 17:23ff.). As is evident from vs. 35b (and the other passages just cited), this means that the love that proceeds from God is directed toward and concentrated in the Son, who as the bearer of God's love can be called God's Son and is, in fact, God's Son. The reference is not just to the relationship between the Father and the Son as such but to the fact that God is manifest in his Son as the God of love.

Therefore, "the Father loves the Son" is a pronouncement about both the nature and the authority of Jesus' mission. With regard to the nature of that mission, as the Son he represents the love of God. In him and in his mission God is present in the world as the God of love. For that reason the same truth can be expressed in the words of 3:16: "God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son." With regard to Jesus' authority, it is he in whom the victorious fullness of God's love makes its way and into whose hand, for the sake of that revelation, all things have been given (cf. 13:3). This reality is explicated in various ways in what is to follow in the Gospel (cf. 5:20, 26f., 36; 10:17f.; 17:2, etc.), not infrequently where the Son is described as "the Son of man" (cf. 5:27; 6:27; 8:28). It is on account of this concentration of the Father's love in the Son, the Son's authority over all things, and his being endowed with the Spirit ("not by measure") that the revelation of God in Jesus Christ is absolute, all-embracing, and all-sufficient and that "outside him salvation is not to be sought or found."

36 It is also for that reason that in believing or not believing the Son the disjunction between having and not having "eternal life" is realized. Here, in other words, the truth of vs. 18 is repeated (cf. vs. 15). Because he is the Son, believing in him means eternal life; it is the power of his word, by which the dead hear his voice and live, now and on the last day (5:28f.). "He who does not obey the Son will not see life."143 "Disobeys"144 serves as a description of "unbelief" because the crucial decision lies in "hearing" the word that issues from the Son of God. Because he is the Son, no one can ignore his word with impunity. Such a person is already condemned (vs. 18), or as the final clause of the pericope reads, "God's wrath remains on him (or her)." God's wrath is his judgment (cf. Ro. 2:5; Mt. 3:7). "Remains" implies that this judgment is a present reality (cf. Ro. 1:18). In the estrangement of unbelief judgment is already present. But to save the world from that judgment God has sent his Son (vs. 16). As the conclusion of all that has been said up to this point, here, too (see the comments on vs. 21), all the emphasis comes to lie on the definitive eschatological decision confronting the world in the coming of Christ. "The conclusion is less a promise than a warning" (Bult-mann). The warning is there, however, not to condemn the world but to save it (vs. 17).

John 4:1-26  (NLT)

Jesus and the Samaritan Woman

4 Jesus[a] knew the Pharisees had heard that he was baptizing and making more disciples than John 2 (though Jesus himself didn’t baptize them—his disciples did). 3 So he left Judea and returned to Galilee.

4 He had to go through Samaria on the way. 5 Eventually he came to the Samaritan village of Sychar, near the field that Jacob gave to his son Joseph. 6 Jacob’s well was there; and Jesus, tired from the long walk, sat wearily beside the well about noontime. 7 Soon a Samaritan woman came to draw water, and Jesus said to her, “Please give me a drink.” 8 He was alone at the time because his disciples had gone into the village to buy some food.

9 The woman was surprised, for Jews refuse to have anything to do with Samaritans.[b] She said to Jesus, “You are a Jew, and I am a Samaritan woman. Why are you asking me for a drink?”

10 Jesus replied, “If you only knew the gift God has for you and who you are speaking to, you would ask me, and I would give you living water.”

11 “But sir, you don’t have a rope or a bucket,” she said, “and this well is very deep. Where would you get this living water? 12 And besides, do you think you’re greater than our ancestor Jacob, who gave us this well? How can you offer better water than he and his sons and his animals enjoyed?”

13 Jesus replied, “Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. 14 But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”

15 “Please, sir,” the woman said, “give me this water! Then I’ll never be thirsty again, and I won’t have to come here to get water.”

16 “Go and get your husband,” Jesus told her.

17 “I don’t have a husband,” the woman replied.

Jesus said, “You’re right! You don’t have a husband— 18 for you have had five husbands, and you aren’t even married to the man you’re living with now. You certainly spoke the truth!”

19 “Sir,” the woman said, “you must be a prophet. 20 So tell me, why is it that you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place of worship, while we Samaritans claim it is here at Mount Gerizim,[c] where our ancestors worshiped?”

21 Jesus replied, “Believe me, dear woman, the time is coming when it will no longer matter whether you worship the Father on this mountain or in Jerusalem. 22 You Samaritans know very little about the one you worship, while we Jews know all about him, for salvation comes through the Jews. 23 But the time is coming—indeed it’s here now—when true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth. The Father is looking for those who will worship him that way. 24 For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth.”

25 The woman said, “I know the Messiah is coming—the one who is called Christ. When he comes, he will explain everything to us.”

26 Then Jesus told her, “I am the Messiah!”[d]

 Basic Commentary on John 4:1-26

Commentary on John 4:1-26

Break down divisions of every kind

Every church should be an inclusive church because God’s love is radically inclusive. The church should be famous for its love. We should welcome people regardless of their gender, race or lifestyle. Jesus came to break down every barrier in our society.

Jesus’ fame was increasing. ‘The Pharisees were keeping count of the baptisms that he and John performed... They had posted the score that Jesus was ahead, turning him and John into rivals’ (vv.1–2, MSG).

Jesus was not interested in rivalry, fame or competition: ‘When the Lord learned of this, he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee’ (v.3). He was very interested in helping one individual Samaritan. He takes time to minister to her. Mother Teresa said, ‘Never worry about numbers. Help one person at a time, and always start with the person nearest you.’

In this encounter, Jesus demonstrated that one of the ways in which society will be transformed is by the breaking down of divisions.

1. 1. End the war between the sexes
      Jesus had a prolonged conversation with a woman in public. This flew in the face of the conventions of the time. The strict rabbis forbade a rabbi even to greet a woman in public, let alone have a long conversation. When the disciples returned, they were ‘surprised to find him talking with a woman’ (v.27).
      As John Stott wrote, ‘Without any fuss or publicity Jesus terminated the curse of the Fall, reinvested woman with her partially lost nobility and reclaimed for his new kingdom community the original creation blessing of sexual equality.’
      The sexes should not be at war. As Pope Benedict XVI put it, ‘In Christ the rivalry, enmity and violence which disfigured the relationship between men and women can be overcome and have been overcome.

1. 1. End racism, discrimination and apartheid
      The division between Jews and Samaritans went back a long way. Samaritans were a despised and powerless minority – pushed down and without value. John explains that ‘Jews in those days wouldn’t be caught dead talking to Samaritans’ (v.9, MSG).
      Jesus does not compromise on the truth: ‘Salvation is from the Jews’ (v.22). Nevertheless, he reaches out to this Samaritan woman. In doing so he breaks the curse of racial discrimination and apartheid. The transformation of society requires the breaking down of the walls of division of race and ethnicity

1. 1. End class war and social division
      God loves you regardless of your previous life or present lifestyle. Thank God, he loves imperfect people.
      In asking her for water, Jesus is showing us how to approach people who are broken and wounded – not patronisingly as someone superior but humbly like a beggar.
      This woman would have been a social outcast. With a history of broken relationships, rejected and mocked by her own people, she comes to draw water all alone at midday.
      Not only did Jesus speak to a woman who was a Samaritan, he spoke with a ‘sinner’. This woman had led an immoral life. ‘You have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband’ (v.18). She has been divorced several times and is now living with a man to whom she is not married. Jesus does not compromise on the truth, but neither does he judge, condemn or reject the Samaritan woman because of her lifestyle or social position (cf. Mark 2:17; John 8:10–11).
      
      The religious did not mix with ‘sinners’. By his interaction with this sexually promiscuous woman, Jesus breaks down yet another barrier. His love reaches to all sections of society – across the barriers of class, lifestyle and social position.

Ultimately, it is only the Holy Spirit who can bring about the transformation of society. It is the Holy Spirit who brings unity, breaking down the divisions of gender, race and social position. Those indwelt by the Holy Spirit should be at the forefront of the fight for gender, racial and social equality.

Jesus’ conversation with this woman was all about the Holy Spirit. She doesn’t need a lecture; she needs living water. He says to her, ‘All who drink this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life’ (vv.13–14).

Jesus came to quench our thirst for acceptance, relationship and meaning. The life we receive is the life we give. We become a source of life for others.

The transformation of society starts with the Holy Spirit transforming our lives. It starts with drinking the water of life, which Jesus gives to everyone who believes in him. When the Holy Spirit comes to live within you he becomes a permanent spring of overflowing water throughout your life and into eternity.

You are transformed by the Holy Spirit and by your personal relationship with God. The word used for ‘worship’ here means ‘to go down on our knees, to draw close in an intimate relationship of love’ – we ‘must worship in spirit and in truth’ (v.24).

Lord, today I come to you and drink your living water. May this water flow out of my heart and transform all my relationships.

 Advanced commentary on John 4:1-26

4:1-26

The Woman of Samaria: The Well and the Mountain

This long and graphic story is another in the series of images and encounters by means of which the Evangelist seeks to demonstrate the significance of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. The persons who appear briefly on center stage in this process represent, for the Evangelist, a certain "christological" (or "evangelical") interest: in their uniqueness and reaction to the encounter with Jesus they serve as mirrors in which, each time in a different way, the image of Christ is reflected. One can speak of the "people around Jesus" since in these encounters not only Jesus' image but also that of each of these people emerges more clearly — but hardly in a personalistic sense. The focus is not on their histories or their psychological makeup. They appear on stage too briefly and too fragmentarily for that. Their stories have quite another focus. It is not the task of the exegete — as has been all too often attempted with much imagination and skill — to supplement the profile sketched by the Evangelist with historical and psychological detail.

All this applies to the story of the Samaritan woman. The scene by the well — like other such scenes in the Bible (cf. Gn. 24:1 Iff.; 29:2ff„ 9ff.; Ex. 2:16ff.) — is picturesque enough, and the dialogue here is much more "personal" than that between Jesus and Nicodemus. Still this encounter represents more than an individual event, however it was essential to the woman herself and in that way is a model for others. Here, too, it is the great salvation-historical eschatological motif of the breakthrough, in Christ's coming, of the promised time of salvation that shapes and transforms everything (cf. vss. 21ff., 35ff.).

The story has been composed with great care, and its structure is transparent. After the historical transition in 4:1-3 comes the first major part of the story, the dialogue between Jesus and a woman of Samaria in vss. 4-26. The second half of the story, vss. 27-42, is a report of the woman's return to her village and the ensuing arrival of other Samaritans and, while she is gone, Jesus' conversation with his noncomprehending disciples about the meaning of what is happening. The story ends with the meeting between the Samaritans and Jesus and their confession that Jesus is the Savior of the world.

Verses 1-3 place the following event in the broader context of Jesus' return (cf. 2:2, 13) from Judea to Galilee. Hence what is about to take place in Samaria is not the purpose of the journey. Jesus saw himself forced to return to Galilee when he learned of the hostility of the Pharisees, hostility occasioned by the large numbers of people coming to him to be baptized and to be his disciples, even more than had come to John (cf. 3:26ff.). This probably means not that the Pharisees sided with John against Jesus but that they regarded Jesus as even more dangerous to their authority than John. We may therefore assume that

Jesus' departure was motivated by concern for his own safety (cf. 7:1). A striking feature is the correction or clarification (by a later hand?) in vs. 2 with regard to Jesus' baptizing. It is not altogether clear why this note occurs here and not in 3:22, 26, to which 4:1 is evidently related.145

The story begins with verse 4. It is unclear how much weight one should give "had to." One instinctively thinks of the "must" — frequent in the Synoptics but occurring in John also (cf. 3:14) — of the divine plan of salvation that Jesus came to carry out. But here the expression has primarily a geographical focus. The main road from Judea to Galilee ran through Samaria. It was possible to avoid this road, but Jesus chose otherwise (cf. Lk. 9:52; 17:11), and that choice brought him by necessity into the country of the Samaritans. But this does not exclude (a point one must always add in John!) that for the understanding reader the other "necessity," the deeper necessity, is also present tacitly (cf. the comments on vs. 42).

5-6 For the time being all the emphasis lies on the "natural" course of events. There is some uncertainty about the location of the place (called "Sychar" in most manuscripts) to which Jesus went. Some scholars identify it with Tell 'Askar, but that is located more than a kilometer from the well of Jacob. The Syriac version has "Sychem," the name of a village known from other sources and located much closer to the well, but that makes a scribal change from "Sychar" to "Sychem" much more likely than the reverse. But the history of Jacob, to which vs. 5 refers, explicitly mentions Shechem (Gn. 33:18; 35:4; 37:12f.), and the same name comes up in connection with the land that the descendants of Joseph inherited from Jacob (Josh. 24:32; Gn. 48:22). Jacob's well itself is not mentioned in the Old Testament. It is mentioned first in pilgrim stories from the fourth century a.D.; to this day it is pointed out alongside the road to Galilee by the city of Shechem. Jesus apparently knew the site and chose it as a place of rest from the journey. "And so," as a tired traveler, Jesus sat down by the well. The time indication, high noon, the hottest time of the day, is part of this description of the setting. The whole account is designed to give as natural and human a picture of Jesus' presence at the well as possible, one that should eliminate from the outset any idea that John's christology has some degree of "docetic" character.146

7-8 The description of the appearance of the woman is extremely concise, but — and this can hardly be an accident — it contains precisely those words that will dominate the conversation that now follows: "woman," "Samaria," and "water." Not a word is said about the encounter itself. The request for water with which Jesus opens the dialogue elicits from the Evangelist no other comment than that the disciples had gone to the city to buy food. So to quench his thirst Jesus had to rely on the good will of the woman. He — and this is of course deliberate — makes no distinction. He does not hesitate, a Jewish man sitting thirsty by a well, to ask a Samaritan woman for the favor of a drink. It is as though he were oblivious of the boundaries and barriers that alienate and separate people from each other.

9 But the woman is not so ready to comply with Jesus' request. She immediately recognizes this stranger as a Jew. And although she does not directly refuse to give him a drink, she does want first to express to him the surprise that his blunt request has occasioned in her. She minces no words. She does not say, "How can I, a Samaritan woman, give you water?" She says, rather, "How is it that you, a Jew, can ask this of me?" Surely no right-minded Jew would do that even if he were dying of thirst!147

To explain this reaction, the Evangelist inserts in vs. 9b (at least according to some important manuscripts) the statement "For Jews have no dealings with Samaritans," referring to the deep-rooted hostility and even contempt that Jews felt for the Samaritan people (cf. 2 Kg. 17:33ff.; Jn. 8:48), an attitude that Samaritans reciprocated (cf. Lk. 9:53). The Samaritans were descendants of Israelites from the ten tribes who were left behind after the destruction of Samaria in 722 b.c. and colonists from the East imported by the Assyrian kings (cf. 2 Kg. 17:24ff.). They accepted as authoritative only the five books of Moses and worshiped the God of Israel on Mount Gerizim, rejecting Jerusalem as the place of worship (cf. vs. 20; Lk. 9:5 Iff.). Along with these religious differences were a number of political conflicts between Jews and Samaritans over the centuries. All this led to what the Evangelist calls, speaking in general terms, "no dealings."148

10 Although the woman's question in vs. 9 touches one of the main motifs of the entire story, Jesus refrains from commenting directly on the polarity she refers to. As with Nicodemus (3:13), Jesus answers her by referring to another world and reality than the one in terms of which she lives, one in which the barrier she has mentioned plays no role, though he does speak in terms entirely derived from the situation at hand. The "gift of God" is the well from which Jesus draws and gives living water. It is called that to distinguish it from the well that Jacob had once "given" (vs. 12) and from which the woman was accustomed to draw water. If she knew the gift of God and, in that connection, who the stranger was who was speaking with her, she would no longer trouble herself about problems between Jews and Samaritans but would ask him for water and he would give it to her: living, running, water (again, whether she was a Samaritan or not). Essentially it is the same set of alternatives we encountered in the dialogue with Nicodemus: By what is a human being to live — by what is at hand, by what she knows and what lies within her reach, or by what is from above and she does not have at her disposal but must be given to her by him who "came down from heaven"?

In verses 11 and 12 the woman shows no sign of understanding what Jesus is talking about and, like Nicodemus (3:4) and the disciples later (vs. 32f.), clings to the literal meaning of Jesus' words.149 After all, "living" water was what one called running water, such as flows from the spring that feeds the well of Jacob and makes it so important for the people living near it. The woman's answer, though couched in respectful terms ("Sir") and in the form of a question, shows some annoyance. How can he give her water from the well, which is very deep,150 with nothing to draw the water up with? Or — and this seems even more absurd to her — does he think perhaps he can get running water from some other source than this well? The first possibility simply does not make sense to her (vs. 11), and her self-awareness as a Samaritan rebels against the second (vs. 12). Does Jesus, a stranger, imagine that he is greater than "our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, and his sons, and his cattle"?

Emerging ever more clearly is the extent to which the entire encounter derives its meaning from this background, which vss. 5 and 6, by twice referring to the patriarch Jacob, already anticipate. It is also becoming more and more apparent that Jesus' request for a drink and the theme of living water that he broached immediately after, however general in thrust, are related from the start to the contrast beween Jews and Samaritans. Here in vs. 12, however, this emerges for the first time in the woman's critical questioning of Jesus: "Certainly151 you are not greater than our father Jacob?"

13, 14 Although in a sense this posed the central issue of the dialogue (see below), in his answer Jesus limits himself to the superiority of what he had to give and does not yet speak about himself. He therefore contrasts the water from Jacob's well ("this water") with his gift. He does not condemn the first as though there was something wrong with it. He had, indeed, begun by asking for it. But it has only a limited effect. It only temporarily quenches one's thirst. In the nature of the case, this is as far as the gift of father Jacob goes. Over against it Jesus sets the water — described with repeated emphasis as his gift — that will forever assuage a person's thirst, water one does not over and over have to go and get but that becomes a spring of living, self-replenishing water within. Not that a single drink will satisfy, but as the gift of God it is an everlasting,152 self-renewing spring of refreshment and life.

Much has been written about this pronouncement, and its explication is decisive for the interpretation of the entire Fourth Gospel. As with the contrast between flesh and Spirit in 3:6ff., here, too, scholars have looked for the background in the dualistic thought of contemporary Hellenistic religiosity,153 whether in an idealistic sense (the material and earthly as the lower over against the spiritual and heavenly as the higher)154 or in that of Gnosticism (the earthly as the unreal over against the immaterial, which comes from above).155 Within this approach, the history of salvation recedes completely into the background. Everything — not only soteriology but also christology — is then governed by a strongly individualistic view of humankind.156

However, as a reaction to the statement by the Samaritan woman ("Certainly you are not greater than our father Jacob") Jesus' answer certainly has a very different background. At stake is the contrast between what Jacob, patriarch of the Samaritans, gave his children and descendants and the water that Jesus will give. One thinks instinctively of ch. 6, where the bread from heaven that Jesus gives and is (6:32f., 48ff.) is contrasted with the manna that Moses gave the fathers in the wilderness. There, too, we find the motif of the inadequacy of what was given in the past (vs. 49) and of the fact that those who partake of what Jesus gives and is will never lack (vs. 35); there too we encounter a request for "this bread" (6:34) paralleling the Samaritan woman's request for "this water" (4:15). It is said by Bultmann and his followers, to be sure, that when the Jews or the

Samaritan woman makes these requests they represent only "the world" in its unbelief, which views illusion as though it were real.157 In this fashion the Jewish and Samaritan historical background becomes unimportant. All we find here then is the universally valid antithesis between the understanding of the human situation from within the revelation in Jesus (the Christian faith) and the world, represented by Judaism or Samaritanism.158

Still, however true it is that Jesus is "the way, the truth, and the life ' for all people without distinction, this does not remove the fact that he is this — especially in the Fourth Gospel — as Israel's Messiah. That is why the point of this story and the way by which Jesus leads the woman to faith can only be understood against the salvation-historical background of God's revelation to Israel. The gift of water from the well of Jacob was for the Samaritans, like the manna in the wilderness to Israel, a reminder of the sacred tradition — continuing evidence of God's richly salvific involvement with his people through history. When Jesus describes the gift of God in terms from tradition, such as "living water" and "bread from heaven," the adjectives "living," "true," "good," and the like are rooted theologically not in an ontological contrast between illusion and reality but in a salvation-historical contrast. What Jesus brings is the fulfillment, the "truth" and the "fullness" of the gift of God. Everything that preceded had reference to that fullness, but could not provide it. None of this is opposed to the past, therefore, but it brings the past into the future (cf. 8:56ff.; see also the comments on 1:17). What is referred to here as "living water" is already present in the Old Testament portrayal of what the people in their distress desired from God, and that not only in a physical sense (cf. Pss. 23:2ff.; 36:8; Is. 12:3, etc.): one reads of "thirst for God" (Ps. 42:1) and of God as the "fountain of life" (Ps. 36:9; Jr. 2:13: "the fountain of living waters"); the salvation of the Lord is offered as waters for those who are thirsty (Is. 55: Iff.) as contrasted with that which only temporarily quenches thirst.

Vs. 14 does not define how Jesus is the fulfiller of all this. In 7:37ff., where he speaks in the same sense of "rivers of living water," this is explained as referring to the coming outpouring of the Spirit, just as in ch. 6 the living bread of Jesus' flesh and blood, which give eternal life (cf. 6:35, 51, 53ff.), is understood. Some interpreters try to find a more specific meaning here also159— but mistakenly in my opinion. What is central here is not a specific meaning of "living water" but the proclamation that in Jesus as the divinely sent Messiah the gift of God is present, the gift, namely, to which prophets and psalmists ever and again testified and for which people in their thirst for God were always looking. In the messianic context of "him who speaks to you is he," of what he reveals and does, the gift he confers on those who thus believe in him will be increasingly understood, as will appear from the dialogue as it now continues.

15 But the woman has not yet reached that point, though her tone has changed. What at first seemed utterly absurd to her is now beginning to assume the form of something miraculous, of which the stranger apparently knows the secret and that might perhaps be useful to her. In any case, her request, again couched in respectful terms ("Sir, give me this water that I may not thirst"), seems sincere (and not ironic or playful, as some interpreters think; cf. also 6:34). But to judge by what else she says ("so that I do not have to come here repeatedly160 to draw water") she seems still not to understand what Jesus wants to give her. Or is it that things are beginning to dawn on her and she is only repeating Jesus' words in order to prompt him to explain himself?

16-19 Things only change when Jesus suddenly shifts the conversation to something seemingly unrelated to the subject at issue: "Go, call your husband, and come back here." Scholars differ greatly on the meaning of this shift. Some think that there is no connection with what preceded and that therefore the transition from vss. 10-15 to vss. 16-19 cannot be original. The idea is that vss. 10-15 were taken by the Evangelist from another source and inserted after vs. 9, with the implication that vss. 16-19 originally followed vs. 9.161 Even ignoring the fact that scholars thus have the Evangelist deal most awkwardly with his "sources," it is very questionable whether linking vss. 16-19 with vs. 9 furnishes a clearer sequence than the present one.162

Admittedly, the linkage is not devoid of problems. What could have been Jesus' motive for having the woman call her husband? All kinds of explanations have been proposed.

It is suggested that Jesus wanted to involve the woman's husband in what he had discussed with her since his gift was not intended only for her. Or that Jesus wanted to test the confidence the woman had expressed. Or that he wanted to make her understand that he knew her life history in order thus to create in her a better understanding for what he wanted to give her. And the allegorical interpretation is back in circulation: The "marriage" relationship(s) of the woman are said to refer here to the religion of the Samaritans. For this, reference is made to symbolism also to be found in Ho. 2:2, 7, 16. The "five husbands" (vs. 18) are said to be the five gods of the nations that had gone from Assyria to settle Samaria (cf. 2 Kg. 17:24ff.), while the present husband of the woman (who was not her husband, vs. 18) is said to refer to the illicit worship of Yahweh by the Samaritans.163 But surely this intepretation is too fantastic. Not only does the Evangelist not "use allegorisation but rather symbolic representation as his main literary device"164 but in Samaria there were not five but seven nations that worshiped their gods, and they did so simultaneously, not successively (cf. 2 Kg. 17:29ff.). And could Yahweh be called the illicit husband of the Samaritans? The woman's own explanation in vs. 29 in no way points to an allegorical interpretation, any more than one can interpret the later dialogue concerning true worship as a further application of this "allegory." Hence we shall have to take the command of Jesus to the woman to call her husband in a literal sense.

In view of what follows the intent can hardly be other than that, by bringing up the subject of her husband, Jesus wanted to lead the woman to the realization that he knew her past and present life and thus to make her more open to the meaning of his words.

In the history of exegesis (and of preaching) this interpretation has often been given a religio-psychological twist, according to which Jesus sought to lead the woman to repentance and conversion by way of increased self-knowledge. The command "Go, call your husband" is said to have been the first step toward getting her to realize how sinful her life was. The woman's answer in vs. 17a would then be ambiguous, even misleading, as an instinctive reaction to escape further interrogation at this point. Jesus then used her answer, so the argument goes, to unmask her sinful life further (vss. 17b, 18). Although the woman has to acknowledge Jesus' prophetic knowledge concerning her life, she next tries (vss. 17, 19f.) to divert attention from herself to a more impersonal "subject," the nature of true worship, as a kind of confessional diversionary tactic.165

This interpretation undoubtedly contains the truth that Jesus led the woman to this acknowledgment, not by an arbitrary manifestation of his supernatural knowledge, but by focusing this knowledge on her own life. And what he thus brought to the fore was certainly not flattering for her. The words "you are right" — echoed in vs. 18 with "this you have said truly" — must have sounded in her ears as a judicial verdict that, by saying "I have no husband," she herself had pronounced. And the explanation of this verdict made this "truth" all the more unambiguous and revealing: by Jewish standards166 and in the general Near Eastern view, it was an indecent extravagance for a woman to have been married successively to five men. And if that was followed by "living with" another man, any claim to the honor of being a married woman had been totally abandoned. There can be no doubt, therefore, that by thus revealing to the woman his knowledge of her life, Jesus sought to give his conversation with her a dimension of depth for which until now she had shown no understanding. It is not difficult, therefore, to find material points of connection between this and what has been said in the preceding conversation about a thirst that ever returns and water that cannot quench it.

Still, it is questionable whether the text permits a psychological-pastoral interpretation ending with a deepening of the woman's sense of sin and her repentance. In any case, her answers do not show this. The idea that she lacked the self-knowledge that Jesus is presumably now imparting to her is nowhere evident. When he says to her, "Go, call your husband," her reply tersely and radically reflects her real situation: "I have no husband." That she does not immediately reveal her entire situation to him can hardly be interpreted against her. In any case, Jesus does not reproach her for this but rather commends her for saying she does not have a husband. And when he then proceeds to confront her with a picture of her life, she does not act like this were the first time she realized the seriousness of it or finally arrived at self-knowledge and a sense of sin. At least she shows no sign of this.

Her only reaction to Jesus' unveiling of her life is: "Sir, I perceive that you are a prophet." Hence her answer relates more to Jesus than to herself, though of course it implies the acknowledgment that he has spoken the truth about her. And that also is the viewpoint from which the Evangelist would have us regard this decisive shift in the conversation: Jesus knew with whom he had to do when he sought contact with this woman by asking her for a drink and then offering her the living water. It is that knowledge that over and over illumined the authority and nature of Jesus' messianic mission. On the basis of this knowledge he called Nathanael, as a true Israelite, to follow him (1:47), kept Nicodemus and the "many" represented by him at a distance (2:25; 3:3), and, through this woman with her dubious past and reputation (cf. vss. 29, 39), sought entrance among the despised and hostile people of Samaria. What therefore determines the goal and progress of Jesus' conversation with the Samaritan woman is not that she — in four steps or stages167 — arrived at ever deeper self-knowledge but began, in the face of all her personal and shared prejudices, to understand who the Messiah of Israel was and what "the salvation from the Jews" represented by him amounted to (vss. 22, 29, 39).

But the faith that reaches that goal is not achieved all at once. She has come closer to Jesus than she did in vs. 15, but still no closer than the admission that he is a prophet. She insists on the indefinite article: a prophet. Still, this was a step that, as the developing conversation shows, arose not from a general sense that she was dealing with a kind of miracle-worker,168 but rather from the Old Testament image of the prophet as one who is endowed with supernatural knowledge (cf., e.g., 1 Sa. 9:19; 2 Kg. 4:27; Lk. 7:39) and to whom one could turn to hear the Word of God.169

20 It is in the light of that discovery that the woman now brings up the heart of the issue that has from the beginning made her reserved toward the stranger but that she now poses to him, now understanding him as a prophet and hence as expert on that issue: What did he think about the great stumbling block between the Samaritans ("our fathers") and the Jews ("you," plural), namely "where people ought to worship"?

From of old the Samaritans had worshiped Yahweh alongside their idols (2 Kg. 17:26f., 32, 41). In distinction from the Jews who, according to Dt. 27:4 (Masoretic Text), brought their sacrifices to Mount Ebal, the Samaritans, in their Pentateuch, gave this significance to Mount Gerizim, which was situated adjacent to Jacob's well ("this mountain") and worshiped Yahweh there. In the course of time they built a temple there (with permission from Alexander the Great, according to Josephus), but it was destroyed by John Hyrcanus I, a Jewish king, in 128 b.c. But the Samaritan worship of Yahweh was continued on Mount Gerizim170 and remained the great religious bone of contention (cf. Lk. 9:53).

Here, too, the "psychological" interpretation, which views this shift in the conversation as a diversionary tactic of a "confessional" nature (see above), takes us into the wrong direction. According to this interpretation one not only faces the question why Jesus did not cut her off but in fact followed her when she took this track but also thus disregards the christological viewpoint that dominates the entire conversation. What follows does not have a "theoretical" character.

The situation is rather — and this is the strategy of the Evangelist in all these conversations — that the "case" of the woman herself illustrates the relevance of the controversy in a highly personal way. After the conversation about the well has taken this turn, how could conversation about the mountain be avoided? The woman's first question was: "How can you, a Jew, ask a drink of me, a woman of Samaria?" But at this point another question urges itself on her even, and more forcefully: "How can you, a Jew (in fact, a Jewish prophet), speak about the gift of God and of living water to me, a woman of Samaria (and what a woman), as if 'this mountain' were not an enormous stumbling block between us?"171 She does state the issue in more general terms. But what drove her to do this was not a theological attempt at diversion but the awareness that the issue between Jews and Samaritans had never been more personally important to her than it was at this point in her conversation with this Jewish prophet.

21-22 Accordingly, Jesus reacts to her pronouncement without any deviation. He, too, feels no need to return to the personal life of the woman but addresses her as representative of her people ("you," plural). For, however much in all his words he kept the woman in mind, now that he has gained her attention for who he is, it had to be made clear to her that the issue between him and her was not just the shift in her history but a breakthrough that concerned her entire people, indeed, the whole world. With solemn emphasis ("Believe me, woman")172 Jesus announces the hour when they (she and her fellow Samaritans) would worship the Father "neither on this mountain (Gerizim) nor in Jerusalem." That is, they would no longer have to choose between these two cult locations. This is not to say that Jesus made no distinction between the two existing places of worship. He describes the worship of Samaritans as based on ignorance of what they are doing. For, in virtue of the revelation given to Israel, salvation is "from the Jews," and all worship that puts itself in opposition to that revelation or separates itself from it is worship of one's own choosing.

Much recent scholarship regards this verse as a later insertion because the Jesus of the Fourth Gospel, it is thought, could not have said anything of the sort.173 Reference is made to texts (such as 8:41ff., 17; 10:34; 13:33) in which Jesus either sharply attacks "the Jews" or clearly distances himself from "their" law. But however often "the Jews" is the term by which the leaders of the Jews who are hostile toward Jesus are described, that does not mean that the designation can have only this antithetical sound or meaning in the Fourth Gospel (cf. 2:13; 5:1; 7:11; ll:19ff., etc.).174 Much less can it be maintained that in so-called dualistic thought, with "the world" on one side and believers on the other, "the Jews" and their tradition (Moses!) always represent "the world." It has been correctly noted by some that one who approaches and interprets the Fourth Gospel in this way totally misunderstands it and in fact even runs the danger of attributing anti-Semitic tendencies to the Gospel. However true it is that Jesus, in his conversations with Jews who are hostile to him, dissociates himself entirely from their spiritual motives and their handling of the Torah and makes very strong statements, it is no less true that his entire mission, even according to John, is rooted in the revelation granted to Israel (cf., e.g., 5:45ff.; 7:19ff.; 8:39ff„ 53ff.; 10:34). Hence one must not for that reason, any more than on that of the textual witness, question for a moment the genuineness of either part of vs. 22.175

23-24 The "but" with which vs. 23 begins also points to the authenticity of vs. 22: However much the Jews may have been right in their dispute with the Samaritans, now other criteria for true worship are going to apply. Again Jesus announces "the hour is coming" (cf. vs. 21), referring thus to the great time of salvation, and follows this, as in 5:25, with "and is now." The breakthrough has come and the future has become present tense, but without losing its future character.

The mark of that future is worship "in Spirit and truth," as contrasted with worship that is bound to a specific place. This is not to be understood as saying that true worship is realized totally in the sphere of the supersensuous and elevated above the visible temporal world or any cultic form.176 "Spirit"

— here linked with "truth" in a hendiadys as with "grace and truth" in 1:17

— refers to the time of salvation that has come with Christ and to the concomitant new way in which God wants to relate to human beings. Whereas "grace and truth" above all describe the compassion and love God displayed in the sending of his Son (cf. 3:16), "Spirit and truth" refer to the fellowship thus established in its life-creating and life-giving power, as leading to the fullness of God's gifts (cf. 1:16) that is no longer mediated by all sorts of provisional and symbolic forms, but by the Spirit of God himself, which is why it is repeatedly called worship of the "Father."

And all this takes place "from now on" because in Christ the way to the Father is being opened in a totally new manner (14:6), the limits of the old patterns of worship are being broken through (see comments on 1:29), and the true worshipers are being brought together in a single fellowship. They, accordingly, are such (vs. 23b) as God "seeks," that is, desires, as his worshipers. Therein lie both the condition (cf. "must" in vs. 24) for true worship and the desire of God to attract such. For (vs. 24) "God is Spirit," not a statement intended to emphasize God's inaccessibility to earthly, material beings (so that they would have to draw near to God by way of interiorization and spiritual self-emptying), but the description, rather, of God as the Foundation and Giver of the true life (14:16), he to whom, therefore, one can come only in the way he has opened for that purpose in Jesus Christ.177

25 The woman does not respond to the specific content of Jesus' words. But she does reveal her awareness that they relate to the great future — matters that suggest to her mind the thought of the178 Messiah, of whose coming she as a Samaritan knew. Hence she comes increasingly closer to Jesus' way of thinking. She names the Messiah, but still (cf. vs. 29) distances herself from the relevance of what she has heard ("the hour is now"). She prefers to appeal to the coming Messiah, an expectation she shared with her people: "When he comes, he will show us all things."

Just what kind of Messiah was this woman looking for? And in what respect did Jesus identify with her expectation. She refers to "Messiah," but the eschatological figure expected by the Samaritans was called Taheb, not Messiah.179 The fact that the woman nevertheless calls him Messiah seems to be based on a certain accommodation or generalization in the designation of the future bringer of salvation.180 Although, on the basis of the available historical material one cannot form a clear picture of this Taheb, at least not for the time of Jesus, as background one will in any case also have to consider the Pentateuch held in honor by the Samaritans and the prophetic figure predicted there: "I will raise up ... a prophet like you. ... I will put my words in his mouth, and he shall speak to them all that I command him" (Dt. 18:18). The woman speaks of this prophet as the one who "will show us all things."

26 With this last statement the woman has come very close to the truth, so close that for his self-revelation Jesus needs no other description of his identity. Still, the real truth must come from Jesus himself: "I who speak to you am he." These words return in the Fourth Gospel in a variety of ways, and each time "he" has a different content (e.g., 6:35; 9:37). But they all give expression to one and the same thing: all the adjectives with which divine salvation can be described, all the predictions of the prophets, and all the expectations based on them find in him their only subject, their fulfillment, their "truth." Here, too, this pronouncement is, as it were, the terminal point to which the woman is led step by step. He it is, not only for the Jews but also for the Samaritans; and he it is not only in the future (as the coming Messiah, who "will show us all things") but here and now ("I who speak to you").

Over and over, wherever that is possible, this is where the conversations climax (cf. 9:37) throughout the entire Gospel (20:31). What is constantly at stake in this connection is the unity of two focal points: Jesus is the Messiah and the Messiah is Jesus, though now one and now the other is predominant. In the nature of the case, one is determined by the other. Nevertheless, materially the identity of the person precedes that of the salvation in question. The identity of the Messiah, the one sent by the Father, and the way messianic salvation comes into being — in short, the entire soteriological process of events and its effect — is manifest in Jesus and fulfilled in him; and one cannot, conversely, fill in the christological identity of the person with what people expect of him or desire of him on the basis of their "existential understanding" or tradition. But there is definitely also continuity in the history of salvation because salvation is "from the Jews." Therefore the true outlook on the coming Messiah is revealed, as with the Samaritan woman, in the context of the expectation that is oriented to Israel. For that reason Jesus does not at this point react to the content of the woman's messianic expectation but focuses in his final statement on the fact that it is he who is speaking to her.

2 John 4:27-42

27 Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked to find him talking to a woman, but none of them had the nerve to ask, “What do you want with her?” or “Why are you talking to her?” 28 The woman left her water jar beside the well and ran back to the village, telling everyone, 29 “Come and see a man who told me everything I ever did! Could he possibly be the Messiah?” 30 So the people came streaming from the village to see him.

31 Meanwhile, the disciples were urging Jesus, “Rabbi, eat something.”

32 But Jesus replied, “I have a kind of food you know nothing about.”

33 “Did someone bring him food while we were gone?” the disciples asked each other.

34 Then Jesus explained: “My nourishment comes from doing the will of God, who sent me, and from finishing his work. 35 You know the saying, ‘Four months between planting and harvest.’ But I say, wake up and look around. The fields are already ripe[e] for harvest. 36 The harvesters are paid good wages, and the fruit they harvest is people brought to eternal life. What joy awaits both the planter and the harvester alike! 37 You know the saying, ‘One plants and another harvests.’ And it’s true. 38 I sent you to harvest where you didn’t plant; others had already done the work, and now you will get to gather the harvest.”

Many Samaritans Believe

39 Many Samaritans from the village believed in Jesus because the woman had said, “He told me everything I ever did!” 40 When they came out to see him, they begged him to stay in their village. So he stayed for two days, 41 long enough for many more to hear his message and believe. 42 Then they said to the woman, “Now we believe, not just because of what you told us, but because we have heard him ourselves. Now we know that he is indeed the Savior of the world.”

 Basic Commentary on John 4:27-42

 Advanced commentary on John 4:27-42

3 John 4:43-54

Jesus Heals an Official’s Son

43 At the end of the two days, Jesus went on to Galilee. 44 He himself had said that a prophet is not honored in his own hometown. 45 Yet the Galileans welcomed him, for they had been in Jerusalem at the Passover celebration and had seen everything he did there.

46 As he traveled through Galilee, he came to Cana, where he had turned the water into wine. There was a government official in nearby Capernaum whose son was very sick. 47 When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and begged Jesus to come to Capernaum to heal his son, who was about to die.

48 Jesus asked, “Will you never believe in me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?”

49 The official pleaded, “Lord, please come now before my little boy dies.”

50 Then Jesus told him, “Go back home. Your son will live!” And the man believed what Jesus said and started home.

51 While the man was on his way, some of his servants met him with the news that his son was alive and well. 52 He asked them when the boy had begun to get better, and they replied, “Yesterday afternoon at one o’clock his fever suddenly disappeared!” 53 Then the father realized that that was the very time Jesus had told him, “Your son will live.” And he and his entire household believed in Jesus. 54 This was the second miraculous sign Jesus did in Galilee after coming from Judea.

 Basic Commentary on John 4:43-5:15

Commentary on John 4:43-5:15

Pray for healing

There are times in our lives when we are desperate for healing – either for others, or for ourselves. In this life our prayers for healing will not always be answered. Unanswered prayer can be a difficult and painful thing to wrestle with.1 But sometimes God does intervene miraculously to bring healing. We see here two examples of this, both coming about as a result of God-sized prayers:

Healing for others

The royal official begged Jesus to heal his son (4.47), who was on the brink of death.

‘Jesus put him off: “Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe”’ (v.48, MSG). But the official would not be put off: ‘Come down! It’s life or death for my son’ (v.49, MSG).

Jesus responded to the man’s faith. The man believed that if Jesus came he could heal his son. Jesus asked him to go one step further and believe that his words from miles away could heal his son. The man did believe. And Jesus performed the miracle – he heard the man’s God-sized prayer and healed his son. As a result, his whole household believed (v.53).

Healing for ourselves

Jesus went to a place where there were a multitude of people with disabilities; lame, blind and paralysed (5:3). This was a culture that saw disability as a punishment from God. Such people were hidden away. But God has chosen the weak and the foolish of the world in order to confound the wise (1 Corinthians 1:27–28).

Jesus healed a man who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years (John 5:5). The man must have been desperate: he had been putting his hope in the healing powers of the waters of Bethesda, which would bubble up periodically, and it was thought that the first person in after the waters bubbled up would be healed. But this man had no one to help him get in first (v.7).

He had no friends, no close family. Nobody cared for him. He was alone and abandoned. Nobody loved him, but Jesus loved him.

Jesus says to him, as he says to each one of us, ‘Do you want to get well?’ (v.6). For thirty-eight years, this man had learned to survive as he was. Now he has to rise up, make choices, find new friends, find work and become responsible for his life.

Joyce Meyer writes of this incident that, in effect, Jesus said to the man, ‘Don’t just lie there, do something!’ She continues, ‘Being sexually abused for approximately fifteen years and growing up in a dysfunctional home left me lacking confidence and filled with shame. I wanted to have good things in my life, but I was stuck in emotional torment and despair.

‘Like the man in John 5, Jesus did not give me pity either. Jesus was actually very firm with me and He applied a lot of tough love, but His refusal to let me wallow in self-pity was a turning point in my life. I am not in the pit any longer. I now have a great life. If you will reject self-pity, actively look to God and do what He instructs you to do, you can have a great life too.’

Thank you, Lord, that you hear our prayers for healing for ourselves and others. Today I cry out to you for healing for…

My friend, Pete Greig, has written an excellent book on this subject called God on Mute

 Advanced commentary on John 4:43-54

4:43-54

Back to Cana: The Healing of the Royal Official's Son;

Faith and Miracles

43-45 These verses constitute the transition to the following story. After the two-day stay in Samaria the journey to Galilee (cf. 4:3) is continued. Vs. 44 immediately confronts us with a seemingly insoluble difficulty. Apparently to explain ("for") Jesus' journey to Galilee, the Evangelist cites the familiar saying of Jesus that "a prophet has no honor in his own country" (cf. Mt. 13:57; Mk. 6:4; Lk. 4:24). But this involves a double problem: First, how could this be a reason for Jesus to go to Galilee? Second, is this not immediately contradicted by vs. 45, which describes the welcome extended to Jesus by Galileans who had seen what he had done at the feast in Jerusalem?

From ancient times207 scholars have sought a way out by saying that by "his country" not Galilee but Judea is meant, and this view has maintained itself to the present day.208 But this goes against what is meant elsewhere by the same saying (cf. Lk. 4:24, also speaking of Jesus' initial public ministry in Galilee!). Furthermore, in John Galilee could hardly function as a place of refuge from Jesus' country since "for Jesus himself testified . . ." explains not only why he departed from Judea but also why he went to Galilee instead (cf. vs. 3). Assuming that one could argue that Jerusalem was Jesus' city or country, that could hardly be true in explicit contrast with Galilee.

Most recent scholarship therefore maintains that Galilee was Jesus' country referred to in the saying. The "for" of vs. 44, it is said, is an a priori allusion to the resistance Jesus was to encounter there. In consequence vs. 45 has to be understood in an exclusively negative sense: people only welcomed Jesus for his miracles, as Jesus himself expressly says in vs. 48.209 Still, one cannot be content with this view either. With it the "for" in vs. 44 remains very difficult, and above all the story of the royal official contradicts the idea that in Galilee Jesus would encounter exclusively negative reactions (cf. vss. 50, 53).

The "for" in vs. 44 explains, rather, Jesus' escape to Galilee in connection with his reason for leaving Judea, namely his own security (cf. 7:1). There, in his own country of Galilee, he did not have to fear the attendance of large crowds, which in the eyes of the Jewish authorities made him so dangerous. Being "held in honor" was to run the risk of universal adoration, of being viewed as something more than "one of our own." This is not in conflict with vs. 45. The Galileans welcomed him on account of what they had seen him do in Jerusalem. But that was all. People there, by contrast with Judea, did not regard his coming as a threat to their own authority or power but as a chance that, being one of them, he would demonstrate his miraculous power also in his fatherland (cf. Lk. 4:22f.).210

46 Jesus went again to Cana in Galilee. The verse explicitly mentions the miracle he performed there before. Two things are striking here: first, the special significance thus attributed to Cana as the place where a miracle again takes place and, second, that Cana is again identified as being in Galilee (2:1, 11 ; 4:45; also 21:2, cf. comments on 2:1 above). In vs. 54 the Evangelist returns to the fact of the second miracle (see comments there).

The view that the story that now follows is a variant of the healing narrated in Mt. 8:5-13 and Lk. 7:1-10 is widespread.211 The basilikos in Jn. 4:46 is then said to be the same person as the centurion of Mt. 8:5; Lk. 7:2. This identification is not in itself impossible because in vs. 46b the basilikos is said to be someone in the service of King Herod Antipas (really a tetrarch but popularly called a king). Hence he could be a military man, though basilikos rather suggests a court official.212 But there are other more striking similarities between the two stories: Capernaum as the place of residence of the official, healing from a distance, the father's pleading for his child (in Matthew the παις could also be a son, though in Luke he is clearly a slave).

But there are also conspicuous differences. In John, in contrast with the Synoptics, Jesus is in Cana, and the view (partly based on that fact) that vs. 46 is a later addition and that the story originally began with "Now there was a royal official at Capernaum" (cf. 3:1) lacks all textual support and runs into conflict in vs. 52 ("yesterday"). Furthermore, the thrust of the two stories differs to a considerable degree. In the Synoptics the central subject is a Gentile centurion, whom Jesus praises as a model of faith such as is not found in Israel. In John we are told nothing of a Gentile official. In response to his first request Jesus answers the official very critically and places him among the Jewish population (note the plural in vs. 48).213 His faith is mentioned only in the second place (vss. 50 and 53, after the fact). If one wishes to trace the two stories back to a single event, one has to assume that the Evangelist regarded the father's conduct from a totally different theological viewpoint and reshaped the entire story in terms of that viewpoint.214 This constitutes an identification, therefore — one that is not very persuasive — of two traditions with two sharply divergent theological profiles.

47 This brings us to the story's most conspicuous feature, the ambivalent way in which the relationship between faith and miracle is referred to. This verse clearly evidences the father's faith in Jesus' power to do miracles. When he heard that Jesus was coming to Galilee, he went to Cana and made an urgent215 request to him to come down216 to Capernaum with him and to heal his child, who was deathly ill.

48 At first blush Jesus' response in vs. 48 seems to be hard and to ignore the true faith that the father placed in his miraculous power. Some interpreters therefore regard vs. 48 as a corpus alienum that was not in the original story but was added by the Evangelist as part of his criticism of mere faith in miracles.217 But this ignores the real point at issue: Jesus does not charge the father of the sick child with wanting to see a miracle as legitimation of Jesus' claims (as, e.g., in Mk. 8:1 Iff.). His complaint is, rather, that all that moved the man to come to Jesus was Jesus' miracles: "If I did not perform miracles, you would have no interest in me," you would not "believe" in me.218

Accordingly, the special character of our text remains that this critical approach to a miracle-oriented faith is directed to someone who is not, in fact, out to see miracles of Jesus in general but who is appealing to Jesus out of his own distress. This difference may be explained by Jesus' use of the plural: He is not addressing the official personally but in light of the general mood that arose around Jesus, in Galilee as in Jerusalem, and that Jesus "knew" (cf. 2:23ff.). On the other hand, for Jesus to make an issue of the inadequacy of miracle-oriented faith precisely vis-à-vis the father of a critically ill child shows how serious Jesus was in not wanting to be misunderstood in his miraculous power both for the sake of his mission and for the sake of this man himself. Even in the heart-rending situation in which the royal official came to him, Jesus was not content simply to heal the man's son: his seeming harshness was aimed at not letting the man (and his entire household) remain stuck halfway on the road of faith. It has therefore been correctly remarked that Jesus' answer in vs. 48 was not so much an accusation as a challenge.219 In other words, Jesus did not only want to give the son back to his father: he wanted to give himself (cf. also 6:27-29).

49, 50 This is also evident from what follows. The father, motivated by the critical condition of his son, persists — now with a passionate appeal to Jesus for help: "Sir, come with me before my child dies!"220 He urges himself upon Jesus all the more intensely just as Jesus seems to withdraw himself from him (cf. Mt. 15:25ff.). Hence he presents the picture Jesus elsewhere describes as "entering the kingdom violently" (Lk. 16:16; Mt. 11:12).

And then, as in Mt. 15:28, Jesus succumbs — but only in part. He says: "Go; your son will live." With increasing221 urgency the man has asked Jesus to go down to his house with him, which to him seemed indispensable if his son was to have a chance. But Jesus sends him away — with his word of power "your son will live,"222 to be sure, but that word had to be enough for the man. Hence the Evangelist puts all emphasis on that fact when he describes the man's positive reaction: "the man believed the word that Jesus spoke to him and went his way."

51-53 The outcome of the story confirms both Jesus' word and the father's faith. The servants who come out to meet him are unbiased witnesses because they know "nothing." Also, the determination of the hour of the healing excluded all doubt. When Jesus spoke, at a great distance, the condition of the sick boy changed, "yesterday at the seventh hour."223 The statement at the end, "and he himself believed and all his household," speaks in contemporary terms (cf. Ac. 11:14; 16:15, 31f.; 18:8) of the reversal that from that moment occurred in the life of this father and his family. The "absolute" statement "he believed" (without an object) no longer denotes a single act of faith, as in vs. 50, but conversion to a life of faith: "they became believing," adherents of Jesus in the deeper sense of the word. The miracle of healing had paved the way for this. It is precisely these last words that express the change that occurred since the father had hastened to Cana to ask for Jesus' help. He already "believed" in Jesus, that is, that Jesus could heal his son. But by the way in which Jesus had countered and tested him, Jesus had made him believe at his word and thus related him entirely to himself.

It is from this latter point that this "miracle story" derives its meaning in the series of encounters described by the Evangelist. Miracle belongs inseparably to Jesus' mission, as his witness to the Father (cf. 5:36; 10:25), as the sign of the salvation represented by him (cf. 9:1, 39; 6:32), and hence as a means of leading people to faith (10:38; 12:37; 20:30). But Jesus is more than the miracles he performs, more than the bread he distributes, and more than the child he restores to its father (and mother and whole family, vs. 53). He is himself the miracle from above; it is therefore also himself he imparts in his miracles, the bread of life (6:35), the resurrection and the life (11:25), the light of the world (9:35). The faith he demands is therefore more than faith in (his power to do) miracles; it is faith in him as the gift of God come down from heaven (4:10; 6:29, 33). For that reason the mere fact of being allowed to participate in a miracle does not yet by itself mean that the recipients have participated in the gift of God in Jesus (cf. 6:27; 5:14). The opposite rather is the case: only one who believes in him participates in the miracle he grants and is (11:25). Miracles not only precede faith as a means of coming to Jesus; they also come after as the ever-remaining "benefit" of faith in him.

Of this the royal official is an example. He came to Jesus on account of the miracle he desired, but Jesus placed himself between the father and his child. Only when he allowed himself to be sent on his way by Jesus' word did the father find that the miracle he wanted was, as it were, already waiting for him. There is in this story of Jesus' miracle-at-a-distance, among "the many other signs he did," a unique motive for believing that "Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that believing one may have life in his name" (20:30f.). The readers of this Gospel also lacked, and still lack, the chance to see first and then believe. But anyone who, like this anonymous official from Capernaum, lets himself be sent on his way in faith without first having seen, will see that the miracle is already there waiting for him. It is that order that governs the key statement of this entire story: "Go, behold your son will live" (cf. also 20:29).

Verse 54 concludes the pericope. It presents a problem in that while it speaks of "the second sign," apparently with reference to "the first of his signs" in 2:11, it seems to ignore 2:23 and 4:45, which mention signs Jesus had performed between this "first" and "second." Moreover, this enumeration is not continued and as such seems rather senseless in the Gospel as we now have it. All this has led to the hypothesis that this enumeration stems from another source,224 one in which these two miracles are, in fact, the first and the second. In drawing from this source the Evangelist is then said to have adopted also its enumeration, ignoring the miracles that he has reported in the meantime.225 Although many commentators place much emphasis on this assumed inconsistency ("aporia") in the text as we have it and make it one of the pillars of the hypothesis of the "Sēmeia source,"226 it seems to me that the Evangelist is, here again,227 being too readily charged with disturbing his own narrative — not this time, as in vs. 48, on "theological" grounds, but on account of his careless handling of his source.

But two things are being overlooked: First, the Evangelist does not just mention the miracles Jesus performed in Jerusalem in passing in 2:23, that is, in such a way that he could easily miss them in the enumeration, and he brings them up again in 3:2 and in the present pericope (vs. 45; cf. vs. 48) as an important datum in these chapters. Second, the connection between 4:54 and 2:11 is much too organically integrated in the text for one to regard it as an "alien body" inappropriately taken over from another context. In vs. 46 also, as soon as Cana in Galilee is mentioned, there is immediate reference to the miracle Jesus performed there (just as in 2:11, Cana in Galilee is again expressly mentioned as the place of "the first of the signs"). When, therefore, in 4:54, following the mention of "the second sign," there recurs the seemingly redundant (after vss. 43, 45, and 46) reference to time and place "when Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee," it is clear that the Evangelist very specifically wants to direct the attention of the reader to the second sign in Galilee. Grammatically there is no objection to taking vs. 54b as a qualification of "second" in vs. 54a ("As the second miracle that Jesus peformed after his arrival").228 Therefore, "again" in vs. 54a is not to be taken as a pleonastic apposition229 alongside "second" but rather, as in vs. 45, as an indication that there was an "encore" in the same place (cf. also 4:36).230

The question then becomes: Why did the Evangelist expressly link the two Galilean miracles? It is unlikely that we are dealing merely with a geographic coincidence. In all kinds of ways scholars have attempted to bring out points of correspondence between the two miracles that are assumed to explain this connection.231 Nor can it be denied that — as far as the construction of the two stories is concerned — such points are clearly present.232 But in 4:54 that is obviously not the point.233

It seems to me more important that with this second miracle the story returns, as it were, to the location of the first, where everything began, forming an inclusio234 and giving the intervening cycle of stories a kind of conclusion. As a result Galilee attains a certain strategic significance as the base for the manifestation of Jesus' messianic glory (against all human expectations and prejudices: cf. 1:46; 7:41). The road to Jerusalem and the temple ran from there (2:13) and not the other way. Each time he returned to Galilee, it was as to his own country. It was also a place of refuge from dangers present in Judea (4: Iff.; 7:1, 9).

Furthermore, the "second" miracle in Galilee also constitutes a new beginning of Jesus' self-manifestation in and from within Galilee — not, like the first time, to manifest his glory before the eyes of his disciples (cf. 1:11) but rather to take an unambiguous position against the chauvinism and craving for miracles of his compatriots and to bring to light the true "faith in his word." That struggle for the recognition of his true identity will continue in Galilee in a decisive way (cf. ch. 6) but will also from now on be the great issue in all those journeys he will make from Galilee to Jerusalem in the confrontation with "the Jews," who are increasingly hostile to him. In view of all this 4:43-54 serves as a hinge235 in the construction of the narrative, being the conclusion of the preceding and a bridge to what follows, where the relationship between faith and miracle (which is so fundamental in this pericope) will increasingly prove to be of cardinal significance (especially in chs. 5-10: note 5:14ff.; 6:26ff.; 7:2ff.; 9:35ff.; 10:37f.).

 Footnotes & references

—————————————

1 See, e.g., M. Rissi, "Der Aufbau des vierten Evangeliums," NTS 29 (1983), pp. 48ff. and the literature cited there.

2. See also Bultmann, Comm., p. I l l:

ch. 3 (for which the introduction is provided by 2.23-25) and chap. 4 should be taken together; in each of the two chs. (and only there) the central feature is provided by Jesus' conversation with a single person, with the διδάσκαλος το� 'Ισραήλ and with the γυνή Σαμαρείτις, with the man and the woman, with the official orthodoxy and with heresy.

3. That of J. A. T. Robinson.

4. See F. J. Moloney, "From Cana to Cana (John 2:l^t:54) and the Fourth Evangelist's Concept of Correct (and Incorrect) Faith," Studio Biblica 2 (1978), p. 200; see also Brown, Comm. I, p. cxl ("Part Two: From Cana to Cana — Various Responses to Jesus' Ministry in the Different Sections of Palestine [chs. II—IV]"). Moloney then makes the following further distinctions:

perfect faith, 2:1-11

no faith, 2:12-22

partial faith, 3:1-21

perfect faith, 3:22-36

no faith, 4:1-15

partial faith, 4:16-26

perfect faith, 4:27-30

perfect faith, 4:43-54.

The three instances of perfect faith are further distinguished as occurring in Jewish, Samaritan, and non-Jewish contexts (the last in 4:43-54). This last classification, in any case, is based on conjecture: In the text — i n distinction from the story in Mt. 8:15ff. and Lk. 7:2ff. — the Jewish or Gentile identity of the royal official is left completely open. In vs. 48 he is considered from the perspective of Galileans in general. Brown, more restrained and less schematic than Moloney, repeatedly and rightly warns: "We must beware of being more ingenious than the evangelist himself" (p. cxliv).

5 Apart from the commentaries see the overview and bibliography in A. Smitmans, Das Wunder von Kana. Die Auslegung von Joh. 2:1-11 bei den Vätern und heute, 1966.

6 For this entire complex of problems see esp. W. Nicol, The Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, 1972 (e.g., p. 123), who assumes the existence of a Sēmeia source but takes a much more positive view of the significance that the Evangelist attached to miracles.

7 For the meaning of σημείον see the comments on 2:11.

8 See below on 4:47.

9. Cf., e.g., J. Breuss, Das Kana-Wunder. Hermeneutische und pastorale Überlegungen aufgrund einer phänomenologischen Analyse von Joh. 2:1-12, 1976, pp. 69ff.

10. Cf., e.g., H. van der Loos, The Miracles of Jesus (NovT Supplements), 1965, pp. 615ff.

11. Cf. also Nicol, Sēmeia, p. 107:

It is not accidental that we doubt again and again. The interpretation is not given separately from the story so that we can be certain, but it is hinted at in the narrative. Literal meaning and deeper meaning cannot be clearly distinguished; the deed of Jesus and its meaning are not separated. . . . History and divine meaning are not on different levels.

12. Breuss, Kana-Wunder, p. 55; cf. also pp. 40ff. See also K. Hanhart, "The Structure of John I 35-IV 54," in Studies on John (Festschrift for J. N. Sevenster), 1970, pp. 38ff" who also regards "the third day" as an allusion to Jesus' resurrection and who, on the basis of the connection between Jn. 2:10 and Ac. 2:13 (translated as "they are full of new wine"), understands the whole story as an allegorical description of Pentecost.

13. With an appeal to a textual variant in vs. 41 where there is express mention of πρωί ("early in the morning").

14. Cf. Β. Olsson, Structure and Meaning in the Fourth Gospel, 1974, pp. 103f.

15. So, e.g., M. É. Boismard, Du Baptême à Cana, 1956, pp. 75f.: "The second creation, that of grace, corresponds to that of nature in order to demonstrate that it is truly a creation."

16. Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 114, n. 3.

17. So J. Willemse, Het Vierde evangelis. Een onderzoek naar zijn structuur, 1965, p. 153.

18. Ibid., pp. 154ff.

19. Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 398ff.

20. Cf. also Brown, Comm. I, p. 106:

The application of the theory of seven days to John i 19-ii 11 is very attractive, but how can we possibly be sure that we are not reading into the Gospel something that was never even thought of by the evangelist or the redactor? . . . The Gospel itself counts Cana as occurring on the third day, and the day that covers i 40-42 is only obliquely indicated. That the reference to seven days fits well with clear parallels to Genesis in the Prologue . . . is true, but this does no more than at most to make the theory of seven days a possible interpretation.

21 See Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 26ff., 109ff. Even farther down this road, to the point of the fantastic, goes Hanhart, "Structure of John I 35-IV 54," pp. 43ff. He deems it likely that no real city is intended and that the name must therefore have a symbolic meaning. "Perhaps Κανά is simply a combination of Καφαρναούμ and Ναζαρέτ," a combination for which Hanhart then seeks an explanation.

22 According to a third-century Latin preface to the Gospel, the bridegroom was John the son of Zebedee. According to another tradition, John's mother was a sister of Jesus' mother, making John and Jesus cousins, which would explain why both Mary and Jesus were present at the wedding. But there is no trace of any of this in the text.

23 Here, too, all kinds of historicizing suggestions have been made, though they divert attention from the matter itself. For example, the supply of wine was inadequate because so many new guests arrived suddenly, and that was the situation that Mary wanted to make Jesus aware of. On the other hand, in the story of Mary's attempt to "mediate," scholars have seen signs of an emerging mariology and have sought to relate Jesus' address "woman" to the woman in Revelation 12. Others have seen anti-mariological tendencies in the answer attributed to Jesus. See, e.g., Brown's criticism of all sorts of fanciful views and his attempt to arrive at a more responsible mariological interpretation (Comm I, in loc.): "Mary is the New Eve, the symbol of the Church; the Church has no role during the ministry of Jesus but only after the hour of his resurrection and ascension." On the meaning of "the hour" see below under vs. 4.

24 Here, too, from a mariological viewpoint interpreters have arrived at a number of explanations and refinements; see Brown, Comm. I, pp. 99, 102, who himself sees a connection between "woman" and Gn. 3:15 and Revelation 12 (pp. 108ff.). Others have inferred from the sharpness of Jesus' reply that Mary is a symbol here of a Judaism that is keen on miracles and signs. Both are fantastic in my opinion.

25 So, e.g., Strathmann, Comm., pp. 58ff.

26 So Nicol, Sēmeia, p. 129. He regards it as "nearly certain" that the hour in 2:4 is the hour of Jesus' departure, and he believes that 2:4 thus "implies an admittance of John that he has reinterpreted the miracles." See also Nicol, pp. 30, 110.

27 This is totally misjudged by Bultmann, who thinks here of the miracle worker of antiquity, the θείος άνήρ, who also had to wait for his hour and for the voice that called (Comm., p. 117, n. 1).

28 And therefore not like the temptation to make arbitrary use of that miraculous power (cf. Mt. 4:7), as some interpreters believe.

29 Wherever John uses periphrastic verbs, "ήν exhibits a certain independence" (BDF §353.1): The jars were not (always) there but had been "put" there for the occasion.

30 Because it was believed that stone does not attract impurity. Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 406.

31 See at length Olsson, Structure and Meaning, p. 59.

32 See the passages cited in Strack/Billerbeck IV, pp. 95Iff., specifically those relating to Gn. 49:11, with special attention to the wine (every grape will contain at least thirty jars of wine, etc.). 2 Baruch 29:5 describes hyperbolically the abundance of wine and 29:8 the "supply of manna" that "will again come down from above."

33 Against this eschatological interpretation E. Linnemann, "Die Hochzeit zu Kana und Dionysos," NTS 20 (1974), p. 411, advances the objection that in Jewish eschatology the abundance of wine is never the result of a miracle done by the Messiah but is described as a marvelous "natural" growth. But this is based on an overly literal view of what the New Testament considers the fulfillment of prophecy and of Jewish future expectation. In the multiplication of the loaves in John 6 the participants also see evidence that Jesus is the prophet and the messianic king (6:14f.; cf. 7:31).

34 In the interpretation offered by Olsson, for example.

35 For the typically "Johannine" character of the miracle at Cana, see also Nicol, Sēmeia,p. 110.

36 For this point see also the predicative significance of "I" in the "I am" pronouncements, pp. 223-29.

37 ό οινοχόος του θεοṽ καί συμποσίοφχος.

38 άντί ύδατος οινον; see further Bauer, Comm., p. 29; Η. Seesemann, TDNT V, pp. 163f.

39 See, e.g., W. Bousset, Kyrios Christos: A History of the Belief in Christ from the Beginnings of Christianity to Irenaeus, 1970. pp. 102f.; Bultmann, Comm., p. 119.

40 Esp. in H. Noetzel, Christus und Dionesos, 1960; see also Haenchen, Comm. I, p. 178.

41 Noetzel, Christus und Dionesos, pp. 33ff.

42 So Linnemann, "Hochzeit," p. 411.

43 Structure and Meaning, pp. 18-114.

44 Ibid., pp. 107ff„ 114.

45 "The Place of the Old Testament in the Formation of New Testament Theology," NTS 23 (1976), pp. 59-66, here p. 65.

46 Cf. Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 67f. ("somehow representative of the creative and transforming work of Jesus"); Nicol, Sēmeia, p. 114.

47 σημείον.

48 τέρατα.

49 See the extensive analysis in Nicol, Sēmeia, pp. 62-66, 113-16, and passim.

50 See also C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 1965, pp. 235f.

51 For a summary of the arguments see Brown, Comm. I, pp. 117ff.

52 The argument is also taken the opposite direction: see Brown, Comm. I, in loc.; Grosheide, Comm. I, p. 183.

53 See also Schnackenburg, Comm. I, pp. 354ff.

54 Some scholars believe that πάντας in vs. 15 must refer to the sheep and cattle and that Jesus used the whip to drive them away, not the people ("since one cannot drive animals merely with one's hands," Haenchen, Comm. I, p. 183). But even if the whip was intended mostly for the animals, πάντας clearly refers primarily to the people, τε is unusual in the Fourth Gospel, and some therefore consider τά τε πρόβατα και τούς βόας, a difficult apposition next to πάντας, a secondary addition. But one can see τε in the light of the preceding verse and take the partial repetition with πάντας in this verse in the sense of "sheep and cattle and all."

55 Future κατάφαγεται agrees with the LXX.

56 γεγραμμένον έστιν.

57 See the comments on 1:19 above.

58 "What sign do you show us that you (have the right to) do these things"; cf. Mk.11:28.

59 As always when such "misunderstandings" occur; see also the comments on 3:3ff.; 4:15, etc.

60 The reference of course is to the "second" temple, the construction of which, according to Josephus (Antiquities 15.380), began in the eighteenth year of Herod's reign, that is, in 20-19 b.c. "Forty-six years" would mean, therefore, that the conversation here took place around 27-28 a.D. The construction of the second temple was not completed until just before the outbreak of war in 66.

61 Cf. ούν in vs. 22.

62 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck I, p. 747.

63 So correctly Bultmann, Comm., p. 125, n. 4.

64 Brown, Comm. I, p. 123.

65 Bultmann, Comm., p. 126, n. 2.

66 εγείρω.

67 With the verb έσκήνωσεν.

68 Cf. imperfect έποίει in vs. 23; also 4:45, which alludes to the miracles.

69 On this see at greater length the comments on 7:52 below.

70 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 420. Still others think symbolism is involved here. Nicodemus is said (by contrast with Judas, 13:30!) to come out of darkness to the light (cf. vss. 19,21); see Brown, Comm. I, p. 130. But of course this says nothing about Nicodemus's preference for meeting Jesus by night!

71 See also M. de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, 1977, p. 46.

72 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck I, p. 127; IV, pp. 313f.

73 See, e.g., J. L. Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 19792, p. 116, with an appeal to G. Bornkamm.

74 See on this at greater length my "Jezus van Nazaret," in Bijbels Handboek IV, 1987, pp. 59-125.

75 For "see" with the meaning "have personal experience of, participate in," see, e.g., 3:36; Ac. 2:27; 1 Pt. 3:17.

76 Latin desuper or denuo; for the first meaning see, e.g., Mt. 27:51; Jn. 3:31; 19:11, 23; Ja. 1:17; for the second Gl. 4:9.

77 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 420, which mentions as the equivalent of άνωθεν Aramaic milf'êla, which is used spatially, not temporally.

78 For ανω-θεν see also 3:31; 8:23.

79 In vs. 9 Jesus does call into question Nicodemus's competence as a teacher (see also vs. 7: "Do not marvel"), but only after he has explained his meaning further. Therefore, he means only that, on closer scrutiny, his first utterance (vs. 3) was not as enigmatic as it might have seemed.

80 C. H. Dodd, Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, 1963, pp. 49f„ 304f.

81 Comm., p. 136.

82 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck Π, p. 421.

83 So Bultmann: "He makes not a typically Rabbinic, but a specifically human reply." Bultmann correctly rejects views like those of B. Weisz and Schlatter that attempt to impart to Nicodemus's answer a certain theological meaning (Bultmann, Comm., p. 137).

84 In some manuscripts it is repeated in vs. 8, presumably on the analogy of vs. 5.

85 έξ ṽδατος καί πνεύματος.

86 Cf. Calvin, Comm. I, p. 65: "Nor is it unusual to employ the word and explanatorily when the latter clause is an explanation of the former." For the entire question of ṽδατος καί πνεύματος, see X. Léon-Dufour, "Towards a Symbolic Reading of the Fourth Gospel," NTS 27 (1981), pp. 449ff., who asserts that an original nonsacramental symbolic meaning in 3:5 need not exclude a later sacramental interpretation: "It is not necessary to reconstruct two successive stages of the text. But it is necessary to perceive two times of revelation, that of Jesus to Nicodemus and that of the Spirit to me, the reader of the Gospel" (p. 450).

87 μή θαυμάσης (cf. 5:28; 1 Jn. 3:13) was a characteristic turn of speech in rabbinic discussions; see Schlatter, Comm., p. 90; Bultmann, Comm., p. 142, n. 1.

88 τήν φωνήν αύτοṽ άκούεις.

89 δπου θέλει πνεί.

90 πόθεν έρχεται.

91  ποṽ υπάγει.

92 Strictly speaking it is not the Spirit but the one born of the Spirit that is compared with the wind. The one that does the work and the work are telescoped, so to speak (cf. Mt. 13:19, 20, 22, where what happens with the seed is transferred to the person in whom the seed either does or does not have its effect).

93 Dodd, Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, pp. 304f.

94 Comm., p. 139, n. 1.

95 Comm., p. 141, see n. 2: "What is decisive in each case [in both Paul and John] is the radical way in which the nullity of human existence is understood, whether it is more or less limited to the idea of transitoriness and death, or whether it is related to the radical perversity of man's will and of his understanding of the world and himself."

96 Ibid., d. 132.

97 See also de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven, p. 40, where against Bultmann's thesis that "the coming of the Revealer is explained by the necessity of rebirth" de Jonge asserts that "the necessity of 'birth from above' rather follows from the 'coming from above' of the Revealer."

98 For "How (can this be)?" see also 6:42; 8:33; 12:34.

99 The article before διδάσκαλος does not mean that Nicodemus is the teacher in Israel par excellence but has representative meaning (contra BDF §273.1).

100 See also the insightful characterization of ch. 3 in de Jonge's essay on "Nicodemus and Jesus," in his Jesus: Stranger from Heaven, pp. 29-47, esp. pp. 38ff.: John 3 "intends to give a deepening and correction of Nicodemus's Christology in vs 2," in which "vss 3-10 are no more than an intermezzo, though a very appropriate and necessary one." "We relegate the 'birth from above' theme to a secondary place within the whole discourse in chapter 3 and put the christological discussion in the centre."

101. So, e.g., H. Hegermann: "Seldom is it so clear as it is here that the Evangelist quite consciously formulated his own witness and that of the church out of the mouth of Jesus" ("Er kam in sein Eigentum," in Der Ruf Jesu und die Antwort der Gemeinde [Festschrift for J. Jeremias], 1970, p. 120).

102 So E. Ruckstuhl, in Jesus und der Menschensohn (Festschrift for Anton Vögtle), 1975, pp. 314-41, here p. 319, though he does not delve any further into the problem of the "we."

103 Ibid., p. 327.

104 Bultmann, Comm., pp. 150f., n. 2, cites Odeberg, according to whom "v. 13 is not intended as an answer to the question: 'Who can bring knowledge from the heavenly world?' but: 'Who can enter the heavenly world?' "

105 Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 151, n. 2, citing BDF §344.

106 Namely as of one, as a Son of man who "came on the clouds of heaven" and "set himself before the Ancient of days." See the comments above on 1:51.

107 The reading of certain important manuscripts is έν ούτω. Others (e.g., p66) have έπ' αύτω; still others εις αύτόν. This last reading looks like assimilation to vs. 16. έν αύτω appears to be the most original. Several interpreters take it with έχη, partly on account of the distinction from εις in vs. 16. Still, the emphasis probably lies on the object of faith and in this connection there need not be a difference between έν and εις.

108 In other places in this Gospel "send" is used. It is only here that the sending is described as a giving. In place of the Son of man (vss. 13f.) we now read "the Son" because of the motif of surrender: "The Son" implies a (préexistent) personal relationship, while "the Son of man" implies a salvation-historical function. For a shift from "Son of God'V'Son" to "Son of man" see 5:25-27.

109  See the comments on 1:29.

110 Surely also in close association with the "seeing" and "entering" of the kingdom of God mentioned in vss. 3 and 5. "Eternal life" and "the kingdom of God" are also used synonymously in the Synoptics (cf. Mk. 10:17; Mt. 7:14; 18:8f.; Lk. 10:25). In John (except in 3:3, 5) the reference is consistently to "eternal life" or "life" (3:36; 5:24, etc.). Bultmann distinguishes the two: "However a distinction is made, inasmuch as ζωή, when characterised as άιώνιος, always refers to the life as a condition of man, while ζωή by itself may also refer to the power which creates life. . . . Thus ζωή αιώνιος is never predicated of God or the Revealer, whose ζωή is the power which creates life (1.4; 5.26; 11.25; 14.6)" (Comm., p. 152, n. 2).

111 H. Hegermann speaks of a conjunction made by the Evangelist of "two almost disparate messages," "a message of a new creation and one of predestination," in vss. 6-8 as well as in vss. 19-21. In this connection the latter message is said to have been made subject to the former: "The pronouncements oriented to predestination stand in the service of this concept of salvation," namely that of an "inconceivable divine miracle of a new creation" ("Er kam in sein Eigentum," in Der Ruf und die Antwort der Gemeinde, 1970, pp. 119-21). But if one wishes to speak of the idea of predestination, is that not precisely in the idea of the new creation as a miraculous work of God unattainable for the flesh? For this entire complex of problems see the extensive work of R. Bergmeier, Glaube als Gabe nach Johannes, 1980.

112 See also the comments on 7:50ff.

113 Taken strictly the content of the οτι clause falls into two parts, which of course have to be taken as a unity. The judgment did not consist in the coming of the light as such.

114 μάλλον refers not to a relative choice but to an absolute choice: potius, not magis.

115 πράσσων, present participle.

116 έλέγχειν, not φανεροṽσθοα, which appears in vs. 21. The idea is to bring to light the truth, and in vs. 19, of course, in malam partem. It can also have a forensic meaning. It doubtlessly has the more general sense here of: "prove in error, expose, find culpable." For the whole idea, cf. Jb. 24:13-17.

117 See Schnackenburg, Comm., I, p. 407, who refers regularly to the resemblance with Qumran documents.

118 See also Schlatter, Comm., p. 101.

119 So, at length, Dodd, Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, pp. 309ff., further developed in his Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 1965, pp. 285ff.

120 See G. Dalman, Orte und Wege Jesus, 19243, p. 250.

121 See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 151.

122 See also the treatment of this passage in Dodd, Historical Tradition, pp. 29 Iff.

123 See the critical discussion of the views of Wellhausen and Boismard in Brown, Comm. I, p. 154; his own view is that "this scene has been transposed from the beginning of the Gospel to its present site and adapted (in vss. 26 and 28) to make it fit" (p. 155).

124 έκ των μαθητών.

125 "Certain" (τiνος) is not present in the text even though with singular "Jew" one would expect it. Some important manuscripts have the plural (with no article!), which has to be considered a change from the (strikingly indefinite) singular (rather than the reverse). Some interpreters, assuming textual corruption, have proposed that the original reading was "Jesus." But the text as we have it is not so incomprehensible that one has to resort to such a drastic correction; cf. also the comments on vs. 26. See also Dodd, Historical Tradition, p. 280, n. 2, though he opts for the plural.

126 On this pericope see at length Dodd, Historical Tradition, pp. 279ff., esp. p. 281.

127 See, e.g., Bultmann, Comm., p. 172; see also his History of the Synoptic Tradition, 1963, p. 165. Cf. the comments on 1:20 above and the work by W. Wink cited there.

128  It is better not to take δεδομένον έκ as the opposite of λαμβάνειν but as meaning "allowed [to do something]." Thus one avoids the notion rejected above, which is undoubtedly not intended here; see also Schnackenburg, Comm. I, p. 415.

129 Here and elsewhere "from heaven" means "from (the side of) God" (Mk. 11:34; Lk. 15:18), also indicated by "from above" (cf. 19:11), in keeping with Jewish usage (to avoid using the name of God).

130 One could also take the receiver (the "him" of vs. 27) to be the believer; cf. "no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father" (6:65). But the reference here is more directly to Jesus as receiver than to those who follow him (cf. 6:37, 44).

131 The reference of the metaphor is restricted to the role of the bridegroom and his friend (cf. Mk. 2:18f. par.). That the church is the bride of Christ (cf. Rv. 7:7; 21:2; cf. also Ho. 1:2; Jr. 2:2; Is. 41:10) does not play a distinct role in this text, and it is questionable whether it is assumed in the metaphor. It would seem that one has to keep the two images separate and not unite them into one (allegorical) complex.

132 χαρά χαίρει is a Hebraism: Adding the cognate noun to the verb is meant as an intensive ("greatly").

133 ό έστηκως καί άκούων αύτοṽ. . . . "His standing there is not without meaning. He stands and waits in front of the bridal chamber for the jubilant cry of the bridegroom" (Schlatter, Comm., p. 108).

134 See the comments on 1:29, 34 above.

135 See also BAGD, s.v., which points out that in 3:19, 21 there are five uses of φως and that this meaning, at least of έλαττοṽσθαι, occurs elsewhere as well.

136 See Barrett, Comm., p. 224.

137 Dodd, Interpretation, p. 309.

138 See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, pp. 147ff.

139 For this complex of problems, see also Schnackenburg, Comm. I, pp. 380ff., who does not regard vss. 31-36 as an epilogue to the whole chapter, however, but as "a connected and complete discourse" that should precede vss. 13-21. For the composition of ch. 3 see also D. M. Smith, The Composition and Order of the Fourth Gospel, 1965, pp. 125-27.

140 "The expression είναι έκ is not tautological, but brings out the two meanings of έκ, origin and type, with the origin determining the type (cf. v. 6)" (Schnackenburg, Comm. I, p. 382).

141 One can also relate "he who comes from heaven" (vs. 31b) directly to vs. 32, as some important manuscripts do by omitting "is above all" and in some cases τοṽτο in vs. 32 as well. This reading seems attractive because then the repetition "is above all" is avoided and one arrives immediately at "the matter" itself: The one who comes from heaven bears witness to what he has seen and heard. But Johannine style is sometimes circuitous. One can hardly make a choice on the basis of the importance of the different manuscripts. However, the thought pattern is the same in both cases.

142. Other scholars believe that it is Jesus here who gives the Spirit (on the basis, e.g., of 6:63; cf., e.g., I. de la Potterie, "l'Esprit saint dans l'Évangile de Jean," NTS 28 [ 1972], pp. 448f.). But in this connection (with γάρ as introducing explanation of the preceding and vs. 35 as parallel) the above view that God is the subject (a view shared by Barrett and Bultmann) seems preferable. Many ancient textual witnesses also reflect this preference.

143 For "see" see the comments on vs. 3.

144 άπειθέω, disobey, appears here alone in the Fourth Gospel, though it is common elsewhere in the New Testament (e.g., Ro. ll:30f.). The noun απείθεια has the same sense in, e.g., Ro. 11:30; Col. 3:6.

145 Many exegetes believe that 2:2 is the work of a later editor. Brown regards it as "almost indisputable evidence of the presence of several hands in the composition in John." The unusual expression meaning "however" in vs. 2 (καίτοιγε) is also said to point to this (Brown, Comm. I, p. 164). Dodd, too, believed that the correction could not be from the Evangelist himself and that the parenthesis in vs. 2 "has a better claim to be regarded as an 'editorial note' by a redactor than anything else in the gospel except the colophon XXI, 24, 25" (Interpretation, p. 311, η. 1; cf. idem, Historical Tradition, p. 285). But one can regard the parenthesis as a clarification by the Evangelist himself if one accepts that he omitted it in 3:22ff. because there the baptizing by (or, as now appears, under auspices of) Jesus was the crucial point that John's disciples took to their master. See also the comments on 3:22.

146 See also my Het Woord is vlees geworden, 1979, pp. lOff.

147 On this request of Jesus to a Samaritan woman see at length E. Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, 19812, pp. 84ff. In this connection Leidig discusses at length the Jewish laws of purification, about which the Evangelist, however, does not breathe a word.

148 The translation of συνχράσθαι is not certain. Some translate it more literally by "use together" (cf. NRSV "share things in common"). If this were correct, one would have to think in this case of the water jar mentioned in vs. 28 and the reference would be to Jewish laws of purification (see, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 170; Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 154ff., following D. Daube, "Jesus and the Samaritan Woman: The meaning of συγχράομαι," JBL 69 (1950), pp. 137ff. The problem is that vs. 9b does not mention any common utensil.

149 On this stereotypical reaction as a rhetorical form, see the comments above on 3:3.

150 The deepest well in Palestine according to R. D. Potter, "Topography and Archaeology in the Fourth Gospel," Studia Evangelica I, 1959, pp. 329-37, here p. 331. See also Dalman, Orte und Wege, p. 176.

151 The question begins with μή and so is a rhetorical question expecting a negative answer.

152 The words "to eternal life" go with "welling up," not with "will become," and thus indicate the imperishability of the water that Jesus will give (cf. 6:27). The future tense (twice) is not explained but must presumably be understood in keeping with the parallel pronouncement in 7:38.

153 See on 3:6-8 above.

154 See, e.g., Dodd, Interpretation, p. 314.

155 Cf. Bultmann, Comm., pp. 181ff., and the history-of-religions material given there.

156 Against this view, cf. also Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, pp. ixff., with a strong appeal to "salvation-historical exegesis" (pp. xi-xvii, and in connection with vs. 11, pp. 45ff.).

157 "To confuse the inauthentic with the authentic" (Comm., pp. 186, 223ff.).

158 Bultmann, Comm., p. 86.

159 See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, pp. 178ff. Also Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samari-tanerin, pp. 46ff., who makes much of the distinction between the water from Jacob's well, for which one needed an αντλημα, and the water that Jesus gives and of which the wellspring that (in accordance with rabbinic tradition) went with Israel in the wilderness is said to have been the historical préfiguration. In my opinion this explanation is far-fetched.

160 δι-έρχομαι.

161 Cf. Bultmann, Comm., pp. 175f„ 187.

162 Cf. also Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, p. 8.

163 Cf. the remarkable interpretation of C. M. Carmichael, "Marriage and the Samaritan Woman," NTS 26 (1980), pp. 332-46, according to whom the whole discussion about water is determined by sexual imagery. Jesus' offer of water to the woman "has a deliberately intended conjugal association." Carmichael refers to 4:15 as well as to Jacob's encounter with Rachel at the well (Gn. 29:7). Jesus woos the woman in the way Hosea was instructed to take a prostitute as wife to give expression to the relationship between God and Israel. The shift in the dialogue in vs. 16 "would be inexplicable if it were not for the underlying marital theme." Hence when the woman asks Jesus for "water" it has to be made clear first that she has no husband and that only Jesus can give her water that will never let her be thirsty again. Hence: "Go, call your husband." In the woman Jesus weds Samaria to the true worship of God, and so forth. In my opinion there is not a single point of contact for this interpretation in the text itself.

164 Bultmann, Comm., p. 188 n. 3.

165 For this pastoral-psychological approach to Jesus and the woman's attempt to divert the conversation see at length F. Pfau, Normen für die Seelsorge aus Joh. 4,1-42, 1889, pp. 161-87. For the above analysis, cf. esp. Brown, Comm. I, p. 177, who closely follows F. Roustang, "Les moments de l'acte de foi et ses conditions de possibilité. Essay d'interpretation du dialogue avec la Samaritaine," Recherches de science religieuse 46 (1958), pp. 344-78. Brown speaks of "the drama of a soul struggling to rise from the things of this world to belief in Jesus" (p. 178).

166 Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 437.

167 On these "four cognitive stages of the Samaritan woman," see at length Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, pp. 154f.

168 Cf., e.g., Bultmann, who thinks that "prophet" here represents the Hellenistic θείος άνθρωπος (Comm., pp. 187f.; see also pp. lOlf. and the literature cited there).

169  See also Nicol, Sēmeia. p. 61; Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, pp. 1 If., 271, η. 41. The idea that she is referring to the prophet like Moses (Dt. 18:15-22; so Leidig, p. 13) seems to anticipate the following "phase" (vs. 25).

170 And continues now. See also J. Jeremias, Die Passahfeier der Samaritaner, 1932.

171 The mountain was in full view from the well (see Potter, "Topography and Archeology in the Fourth Gospel," p. 331).

172 Bultmann: "It is introduced by the singular πίστευέ μοι, which clearly stands in place of άμήν άμ. λέγω σοι (the latter occurs nowhere in ch. 4)" (Comm., p. 189).

173 In this regard one finds strongly categorical pronouncements, especially in Bultmann, Comm., pp. 189f. Cf. on 1:11: "It is impossible in the Prologue ... to take τα ίδια (or oi ίδιοι) to mean Israel or the Jewish people" (p. 56, η. 1).

174 See the comments on 1:19 above.

175 For the polemics concerning the genuineness of vs. 22 see at length Leidig, Jesu Gespräch mit der Samaritanerin, which is devoted to a large extent to defense of the verse (p. xvii: "We have made it our task to show how John's statement in 4:22 can be understood in relation to his positive utterances about the Jews"; see esp. pp. 49-63).

176 See also E. Schweizer, TDNT VI, p. 439: "πνεύμα, then, does not mean man's soul or understanding, that which is most like God in him, his immaterial or purely inward part."

177 Cf. also ibid., p. 439: "Hence έν πνεύματι corresponds materially to the Pauline έν Χριστώ. God's sovereign act of revelation in Jesus has marked out the sphere in which there is true worship. Hence any cultus, however spiritual, is judged as not in the πνεύμα if it is not based on this divine act."

178 Without an article but not meant indefinitely.

179 On the Evangelist's parenthetical addition ("he who is called Christ"), see the comments on 1:41. Other scholars think that in the tradition that John followed this addition was attributed to the woman. She is supposed to have said: "Taheb, the one that you Jews call Messiah" (see Bultmann, Comm., p. 192, n. 2). But for one to understand the text as handed down it is not necessary to resort to this (ingenious) reconstruction.

180 "The conversation in John IV 19-25 fits the Samaritan concept of the Taheb as a teacher of the Law . . . even though the more familiar Jewish designation of Messiah is placed on the woman's lips" (Brown, Comm. I, p. 172). See also, W. A. Meeks, The Prophet-King: Moses Traditions and Johannine Christology, 1967, p. 318, who speaks of a "levelling of different terminologies."

181 έλάλει, imperfect.

182 Cf., e.g., Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 155f.

183 The question was undoubtedly addressed to Jesus, not to the woman.

184 "The symbol of her old life and religion." So, e.g., Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 155f.

185 "The μήτι does not demand absolutely a negative answer, but can express a cautious opinion" (Schnackenburg, Comm. I, p. 444).

186 See, e.g., Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 218ff.; W. Thüsing, Die Erhöhung und Verherrlichung Jesu im Johannesevangelium, 19702, pp. 56ff.; Schnackenburg, Comm. I, pp. 444ff.

187 Although Jesus did not have the schooling that the scribes had (cf. 7:15), he did act publicly as a teacher (e.g., in the synagogue, 6:59), he called disciples to follow him (1:43), and he was respectfully called "rabbi" by both his disciples and others (1:38, 49; 9:2; 13:13; 3:2, 26).

188 For this reaction as a rhetorical form, see the comments on 3:4 above.

189 έμόν, "my," the emphatic form.

190 Some wish to distinguish between "will" and "work" by saying that the first relates more to the present and the second more specifically to the completion of Jesus' mission in the future in his death and resurrection. This is partly based on the future tense of τελειώσω (cf. Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 224ff.). But in my opinion both refer to the present as well as to that which is still to come; hence: "accomplish."

191 For έργον (in connection with σημείον and δόξα) see the lengthy exposition in Nicol, Sēmeia, pp. 116ff.

192 Scholars have also often believed that Jesus is speaking here of the season that at that moment still separated them from the time of harvest (so that the matter related here must have taken place around December), a view that has played an important role in the "chronology" of Jesus. But for that the introduction ("Do you not say . . .") would not quite fit. It seems rather artificial to thus attach the coming of the Samaritans to a time four months before the harvest season.

193 The latest one could sow was in December, and the harvest came in April.

194 "Rome was not built in a day."

195 Cf. Potter, Topography and Archeology, in loc.

196 In other places, too, "harvest" as an image of the consummation plays a large role in Jesus' teaching, specifically in connection with the work his disciples had to do (e.g., Mt. 9:37) and as a reference to the judgment, in which the good and the evil will be brought together (Mt. 13:30); so also "the gathering for eternal life."

197 ήδη should be read as the first word of vs. 36, not as the last word of the preceding sentence (so some manuscripts).

198 Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 197.

199 Cf. Brown, Comm. I, p. 182; Olsson, Structure and Meaning, pp. 227ff., 232.

200 So, e.g., Olsson in his lengthy exposition of Jn. 4:31-38 in Structure and Meaning, pp. 218-41, esp. pp. 227f„ 232; see also Schnackenburg, Comm. I, pp. 451, 453ff.

201 Schnackenburg, who holds this view, has to acknowledge (Comm. I, p. 444): "The transition from the time of Jesus' labor to that of the Apostles is made, not very smoothly, by the rather awkward parenthesis of vs. 37."

202 So Thüsing, Erhöhung und Verherrlichung, pp. 54ff.

203 Bultmann, Comm., p. 200.

204 See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 184. Schnackenburg, on the other hand, who wants to interpret απέστειλα from the historical situation by Jacob's well, says of Jesus that he is "fully conscious of his future exaltation and of the salvation which he will effect through his disciples" (Comm. I, p. 453). απέστειλα (aorist) then has to be interpreted "in terms of prophetic prevision" (p. 452). But this grammatically difficult interpretation is superfluous if one regards the element of mission as included from the very beginning in the calling of the disciples as Jesus' special followers (cf. 1:43, 51 ). According to the Gospel they already baptized during Jesus' time on earth (3:22; 4:2)!

205 There is therefore no reason to take λαλιά in vs. 42, though the word could also be used in a denigrating sense ("chatter," "prattle"), as inferior in importance to the "word" (here διά τόν λόγον) of Jesus.

206 It must be granted that salvation for Israel was also called σωτηρία (cf. vs. 22; Lk. 1:47, etc.).

207 Cf. Origen, In Joh. 13.54 (quoted by Brown, Comm. I, p. 187).

208 See the extensive treatment of this issue by J. Willemse, "La Patrie de Jésus selon Saint Jean IV,44," NTS 11 (1965), pp. 349ff. Among Willemse's conclusions is that πατρίς represented Judea/Jerusalem specifically because Jerusalem was the city where the house of Jesus' Father was located and could therefore be called "his Father's city" (pp. 359ff.). See also M. Rissi, "Der Aufbau des vierten Evangeliums," NTS 29 (1983), p. 48. Other advocates of this view (Jerusalem/Judea = πατρίς) include Barrett, Comm., p. 246; Dodd, Interpretation, p. 352; de Jonge, Jesus, Stranger from Heaven, p. 64 ("clearly Judea for the Fourth Gospel").

209 See, e.g., Bultmann, Comm., p. 204.

210 For this view, cf. also Strathmann, Comm., p. 93.

211 For lengthy considerations of this question see Schnackenburg, Comm. I, pp. 47Iff.; Nicol, Sēmeia, pp. 4Iff. Schnackenburg, p. 474: "Similarities and divergencies [in John 4 as compared to Matthew 8 and Luke 7] are equally apparent and the verdict as to whether one or more events are involved seems to be left to the judgment of the individual commentator." Schnackenburg is inclined to the view that one event is referred to (p. 475). Nicol speaks of "possible parallels" (p. 55; cf. pp. 4If.), but also has difficulties with the theological differences (pp. 55ff.).

212 oi βασιλικοί is sometimes used of soldiers in the king's service (see BAGD s.v.), but here the singular probably refers to a civilian official.

213 "Very probably representative of Galilee" (de Jonge, Jesus, Stranger from Heaven,p. 63.

214 This is argued at great length by E. Schweizer in "Die Heilung des Königlichen: Joh. 4.46-54," in Neotestamentica, 1963, pp. 409ff. Cf. p. 207 of the same book, where, in relation to Jn. 4:46f., Schweizer writes: "The changing situation of the hearers changed the message of this story," which he regards as a pointer also for modern interpretation. But is it really conceivable that an Evangelist dealt with historical tradition as though it were a pile of Lego blocks from which one could make new figures at will by rearranging the pieces and adding new pieces?

215 ήρώτα, imperfect to indicate the persistence of the request.

216 καταβή.

217 See, e.g., Nicol, Sēmeia, pp. 28ff.

218  Cf. ibid., p. 100; see also Schweizer, Neotestamentica, p. 413: "Hence the false component here does not consist in that he will recognize Jesus only on the basis of a sign (cf. Mark 8, 11, etc.), but in that he is not at all interested in Jesus himself, only in something to be obtained through him" (cf. 4:15; 6:34). Vs. 48 is strongly reminiscent of Lk. 4:23 (together with 4:24!), where at his first public appearance in Galilee (Nazareth) Jesus also sharply rejects, as being oriented solely to miracles, the acclaim of his countrymen. Hence vs. 48 does not just represent a Johannine feature but is deeply rooted in the tradition.

219  See de Jonge, Jesus, Stranger from Heaven, p. 123.

220  Here παιδίον μου in place of υίός, which appears in vs. 47.

221  See also C. H. Giblin, "Suggestion, Negative Response, and Positive Action in St. John's Portrayal of Jesus," NTS 26 (1980), p. 204: "V. 49 not only reiterates the request to 'come down,' but more obviously presents that 'coming down' as the supposedly indispensable condition for saving the boy's life (aor. imv. immediately followed by πρίν w. inf.)."

222  These words recall 1 Kg. 17:23: "Live" in this connection is a typically Jewish word for "become well," "remain alive" (cf. Nu. 21:8; 2 Kg. 1:2; 8:8) and need have no deeper meaning. Cf. Nicol, Sēmeia, p. 107: "John narrates the healing of the boy without any conscious allusion to deeper meaning, but he would not have objected to anyone (such as Dodd, p. 324) who saw in the thrice repeated 'your boy lives' (4:50, 51, 53) a reference to the spiritual ζωοποιείν of Jesus discussed in the next chapter. . . ."

223  According to Dalman, Orte und Wege Jesu, the shortest road between Capernaum and Cana was twenty-six kilometers long ("a truly wearisome road"): "If the father left at sunrise he could be at his destination by noon and hear Jesus' comforting word at 'the seventh hour' (Jn. 4:52); but on this day he could at most travel half the distance to Mammela, so that on the following day the servants, who were rushing toward him, could meet him in the plain of Gennesareth" (pp. 113f.).

224  Usually thought of as a "Sēmeia source" (see the comments on 2:1-11 above). On this source there exists an extensive body of literature: see, e.g., J. L. Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 19792, pp. 164-68.

225  See, e.g., Nicol, Sēmeia, who also infers the existence of a Sēmeia source.

226  Brown speaks of "the backbone of the theory of a collection of signs" (Comm. I, p. 195). Brown himself does not hold to this theory but does believe that the two "closely related" Cana miracles were borrowed from a single source and separated to form the beginning and the end of the second main division of the Gospel (chs. 2-11), which Brown entitles "From Cana to Cana."

227  See the comments above on vs. 48.

228. As Bultmann also recognizes (Comm., p. 209, n. 2). But he thinks this is impossible "because in that case the first miracle would have had to be recorded." However, though the entire sentence is also applicable to the first miracle (cf. 1:43!), the Evangelist's focus is clearly not the time but the place of the miracle.

229. Though by itself not uncommon (cf. 21:16; see also BDF §484).

230. So Giblin, "Suggestion, Negative Response, and Positive Action," p. 198, n. 7:

The evangelist is not numbering signs consecutively ("first," "second," etc.). He begins with an inaugural sign in Cana of Galilee ("This beginning . . .," ταύτην . . . άρχήν 2,11), mentions other signs (2,23; 3,2), and then returns to "this second" sign (τούτο . . . δεύτερον) on his return to Galilee — omitting the definite article after τούτο and imposing πάλιν between τούτο and δεύτερον, etc. ... In 4,54 as in 4,46 πάλιν helps correlate this Galilean sign with that Galilean sign that was already mentioned.

231. E.g., F. J. Moloney, "From Cana to Cana (John 2:1-4:54)," in Studia Biblica (Sixth International Congress on Biblical Studies, Oxford 1978), 1980, p. 190; Brown, Comm. I, pp. 194ff.

232. Cf. Brown, Comm., ad loc.: "Someone comes with a request; indirectly Jesus seems to refuse the request; the questioner persists; Jesus grants the request; this leads another group of people (the disciples; the household) to believe in him."

233. The same structural pattern occurs elsewhere also; see Giblin, "Suggestion, Negative Response, and Positive Action," p. 200.

234. So also Brown, Comm. I, p. 198.

235 Most interpreters believe it belongs to what precedes. Others (e.g., Dodd, Interpretation, pp. 318f.; A. Feuillet, "La signification théologique du second miracle de Cana [Jn IV, 46-54]," in Etudes Johanniques, 1962, pp. 34-36) view it as a preparation for ch. 5. One does not really have to choose, though it may be most natural to think of it as primarily the conclusion of chs. 2-4 (see also Brown, Comm. I, p. 198).

John 5:1-15 (NLT)

Jesus Heals a Lame Man

5 Afterward Jesus returned to Jerusalem for one of the Jewish holy days. 2 Inside the city, near the Sheep Gate, was the pool of Bethesda,[a] with five covered porches. 3 Crowds of sick people—blind, lame, or paralyzed—lay on the porches.[b] 5 One of the men lying there had been sick for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him and knew he had been ill for a long time, he asked him, “Would you like to get well?”

7 “I can’t, sir,” the sick man said, “for I have no one to put me into the pool when the water bubbles up. Someone else always gets there ahead of me.”

8 Jesus told him, “Stand up, pick up your mat, and walk!”

9 Instantly, the man was healed! He rolled up his sleeping mat and began walking! But this miracle happened on the Sabbath, 10 so the Jewish leaders objected. They said to the man who was cured, “You can’t work on the Sabbath! The law doesn’t allow you to carry that sleeping mat!”

11 But he replied, “The man who healed me told me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’”

12 “Who said such a thing as that?” they demanded.

13 The man didn’t know, for Jesus had disappeared into the crowd. 14 But afterward Jesus found him in the Temple and told him, “Now you are well; so stop sinning, or something even worse may happen to you.” 15 Then the man went and told the Jewish leaders that it was Jesus who had healed him.

 Advanced commentary on John 5:1-18

5:1-18

The Healing of a Paralytic at Bethesda,

Conflict over the Sabbath

1 The transition from ch. 4 to ch. 5 follows a standard form (cf. 6:1; 7:1). If one does not accept the transposition of chs. 5 and 6 (see above), one may be surprised at first that, whereas in ch. 4 — to escape the threatening hostility of the Pharisees — Jesus left Judea and went to Galilee, the setting of the narrative that now follows is again Jerusalem. But the formula "after this" is very general; it says nothing about the duration of the intervening time and indicates little more than a change of subject. Moreover, the return to Galilee, the (permanent) place of residence, does not mean that Jesus will no longer go as a pilgrim to the great feasts at Jerusalem. Also "a feast"2 is very general. If one follows the transposition hypothesis, 5:1 might refer back to 6:4. But the striking reference to "a feast of the Jews" (see the comments on 2:13) does not so much assume a non-Jewish readership as the temporal and material distance that had developed at the time of this Gospel between the Christian church and the situation to which the story takes us. The character of the feast remains obscure throughout the story and all efforts to identify it and to establish a material connection between the feast and the story lack a solid foundation. At stake in what follows is rather the issue of the sabbath (cf. comments on vs. 9b), an issue that was undoubtedly still relevant to the first readers.

2-4 The miracle story that now follows has the traditional form also familiar from the Synoptic Gospels: depiction of the situation

and of the seriousness of the illness ("thirty-eight years"), dialogue between Jesus and the sick person, and the immediate marvelous effect. One is struck by the detailed depiction of the situation, which assumes precise topographical knowledge (confirmed by excavations).3 There is mention of a pool situated by the Sheep Gate4 that in "Hebrew" (i.e., Aramaic) is called Bethesda or, according to other readings, Bethzatha.5 The porticoes mentioned have also been uncovered by excavations, so that speculations about the number five (relating it to the number of the books of Moses, for example) have become even more incredible than they already were.

Many invalids sought healing at this place: the blind, the lame, and the paralyzed.6 Vs. 7 shows that therapeutic significance was attributed to the periodic "troubling" of the water, and some translations have in vs. 3 the words "waiting for the moving of the water," which, though they agree with the intent of the author, because of the weaker textual witness and because addition is more likely than omission, are to be regarded as a later gloss. This is even more true in vs. 4 in the mention of "an angel of the Lord who at certain times went down into the pool and troubled the water; whoever stepped in first after the troubling of the water was healed of whatever disease he had," a reading universally regarded as inauthentic. This insertion probably expresses a folk belief, associated with certain therapeutic springs, that angels from time to time made the water of the pool bubble or spout up. It is not clear that the words of the paralytic in vs. 7 were also so intended. Apparently for him, too, the moment when the water was "troubled" was important.

5 It is further said of this man that he had been sick for thirty-eight years. We do not know what was wrong, but the manner of his healing clearly indicates paralysis (cf. Mt. 9:6 par.). The length of time is mentioned in order to highlight the seriousness of the ailment and the hopeless condition of the man.

6 A special motif is that the initiative for the healing proceeds from Jesus. Jesus "saw him" here, and as elsewhere this is an introduction to action (cf. 9:1; Lk. 7:13, etc.). That Jesus knew (cf. 9:1, 2) that the man had been sick for a long time shows that Jesus not only caught sight of him among the many others but saw him in the depth of his misery. Hence the words with which Jesus addresses him ("Do you want to be healed?") are not just a way of starting a conversation but an indirect offer, based on the power and authority at Jesus' disposal, to which he called the sick man's attention as a new possibility.

7 But this man, who did not know Jesus (vs. 13), saw no other possibility than the therapeutic power of the water for his healing. He therefore politely answered that he had "no one" to help him and hence always came too late. This raises all kinds of questions: In all the time that the man had been sick had there never been a person willing to help him? And had none of the other patients ever been willing to let him go first? One can infer — correctly — from this that, even if the water had therapeutic qualities, this was undoubtedly a matter of trying to reach it not just once but over and over, and even then it was not enough to heal. Proceeding along that line one can then assume that Jesus' question was intended to make the man aware of the hopelessness of seeking healing in this manner. But for all such reflections there is no place within the framework of this story (as in so many others). What we have here is a snapshot of a man doomed for years to powerlessness on account of an incurable illness, looking in vain for a miracle to happen, who had no one (or no one left?) to assist him in this predicament. To such a person Jesus comes with his question, a question full of power and promise: "Do you want to be healed?"

8, 9a The account of the miracle is as restricted to essentials as the description of the man's misery has been.7 The striking similarity between this passage and Mt. 9:6 par. shows how utterances like this were fixed in the tradition. The word "rise"8 is going to play a very essential role in what follows (cf. vs. 21). For the paralytic to carry his pallet9 home manifested the reversal in his fortunes: no longer does the bed carry a powerless man but, with vitality to spare, he (triumphantly) carries the bed. For now there is no mention of any other reaction. The entire focus is on the manifestation of Jesus' glory.

The statement in vs. 9b that all this took place on a sabbath comes after the action has been described, as in ch. 9, and has occasioned the hypothesis that what now follows — with the exception perhaps of vs. 14 — is an expansion of the healing story that the Evangelist is supposed to have used as a fitting introduction to his real topic: Jesus' self-witness as the Son of God.10 Others even believe that the sabbath issue has been imported into the story and, in fact, works there as a disturbing factor.11 But in whatever way one imagines the combination of the different elements — the miracle, the sabbath, Jesus' dispute with "the Jews" — it cannot be denied that in the text as we have it they constitute an organic unity and cannot do without each other as the story stands

First, the story as such can hardly be cut in two. It clearly functions, as we shall see later, as the counterpart to the story in ch. 9 of the man born blind. The point here is not just the healing but, as in ch. 9, the reaction to the healing. It is also hard to detach vs. 14 from its context in order to let it serve as the conclusion of the story in vss. l-9a (which would in that case come to a very abrupt end). The shift from Bethesda to the temple is not explained until vs. 13, and the meaning of Jesus' statement in vs. 14 ("See, you are well! Sin no more that nothing worse befall you") can only be understood in the broader context of the story as it involves the man (see the comments).

Second, the subsequent dialogue about Jesus' "works" presupposes an antecedent miracle (cf. vs. 20; see also vss. 36ff.), and, as indicated, the character of the "works" has a significant point of connection with the "rising" of the paralytic (vs. 21).

Third, while it is true that the story of the healing can also be understood by itself without the fact of the sabbath (cf. Mt. 9:2-8), the same cannot be said about the point of Jesus' discourse in vs. 19. This discourse is framed apologetically as a response to an apparently antecedent indictment, and its argumentation is totally shaped by the sabbath pronouncement in vs. 17.

On balance, therefore, it is hard to see why the profound and harmonious integration of all these elements has to be explained as secondary simply because "the element of the sabbath" does not come up from the very start but only in vs. 9b — a construction that returns in precisely the same way in 9:14 but apparently does not occasion the same problems there.

10 It has been correctly said that in order to understand a story like this one must know the enormous significance of the sanctity of the sabbath for the Judaism of that day (and thereafter).12 In whatever respect Pharisaism may have been tolerant, in regard to the sabbath it was uncompromising. The casuistry as to what was and was not allowed on the sabbath had been refined to the smallest details. In the Mishnaic tractate on the sabbath carrying objects from one domain to another was expressly forbidden.13 Accordingly, it is not surprising that — after the dispute between Jesus and the Jews about the temple (2:14-22) — the Evangelist now gives such a prominent place to the Jewish application of the sabbath commandment as a critical point of departure for Jesus' confrontation with the Jewish leaders. That the conflict broke out over the seemingly innocuous detail of a man carrying his mat does not detract from the importance of the matter. One may infer from the way the Jews addressed the man that they were aware of what moved him to carry his mat on the sabbath. He did not just carry "a" mat, but "his" mat (vss. 9-11), that is, the mat on which he had lain so long as a powerless person. And he carried it not because of any urgency to stow it away, but as a demonstration of his healing. Which was how Jesus intended it: not as a challenge to the sabbath commandment but as a sign of victory over suffering and death and thus of the glory of God. That all this did not count in the judgment of the Jews shows that at issue between Jesus and them was not merely a stricter or more relaxed view of the sabbath but — as is also evident from the

continuing dispute over the sabbath in 7:19ff. —the nature of the law as the expression of the will of God and hence Jesus' authority as the one sent by the Father. It is this "theocentric" viewpoint that dominates in what follows (vss. 17, 19-30) and that makes this seemingly banal conflict over carrying a mat on the sabbath the occasion for the self-revelation of Jesus as the Son of God (here, perhaps, in the whole Gospel at its most central and fundamental).

11-13 But first the Evangelist still focuses on the healed man himself. It has correctly been pointed out that the role he plays in the story is very different from that of the man born blind in ch. 9. This man remains totally out of harm's way. Responding to the verdict of "the Jews," he refers them to the one who has healed him and instructed him to carry away his mat. When they continue to question him he has nothing to say (vs. 13) because he does not know who has healed him and because, with the crowd around, Jesus has gotten away. Having thus transferred responsibility for his conduct to Jesus, whom he does not know, he evidently sees a chance to dispose of his interrogators with impunity and proceed, as vs. 14 indicates, to the temple (i.e., the temple courtyard), a privilege he had long had to forgo and a place where, in the midst of many pilgrims, he could rejoice as nowhere else in his newfound health.

14 But though Jesus had thus gone on his way, he was not finished talking with the healed man. When he "found" (cf. comments on 1:4Iff.) the man in the temple courtyard near where he had been healed, he also spoke to him (as did "the Jews," vs. 10) about his healing, but with a warning: "See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse befall you." Commentators have often viewed this utterance as contradicting the answer Jesus gave his disciples with regard to the man born blind, where he rejects the notion of any causal connection between congenital blindness and antecedent sin (9:2).

But the connection he suggests here is of a more general kind and reminds one of the statement in Mt. 9:2 par.: Jesus' works of healing do not occur outside the circle of forgiveness of sin. Rather, they are the outflow of it, proof that in Jesus God reaches out to humankind in its totality, which means, above all, in its estrangement from God. That which Jesus gives is more than healing and relief from suffering (see the comments on 4:48ff.). Accordingly the warning addressed to the healed man ("Sin no more .. .")14 does not relate to a specific sin by which the man might bring a worse illness or handicap upon his head but to the threatening danger of being content with the cure he has received without becoming conscious of his

much deeper lostness as a sinner before God and rising from it. The "worse thing" that would then befall him would be not just a worse illness or accident but nothing less than the judgment of God (cf. Lk. 13:1-5). It is in that sense that the statement "you are well" echoes the question "do you want to be healed?"; it is related not only to rising from the sickbed but also to what Jesus was to call later "the greater works" of "rising" and "making alive," for which the Father had given him all power (vs. 20). As he now addresses this man on the point of his sin, Jesus wants to open the eyes and the life of the man to that greater experience, indispensable also to him, lest it also be true of him that his last state should be "worse" than the first (cf. Mt. 12:45).

15 Of the healed paralytic, as his only reaction to this second encounter with Jesus, it is only reported that he went to the Jewish authorities and told them who had healed him. With that he disappears from the account. All that follows is the action of "the Jews" against Jesus, for which the man has provided them with the necessary evidence (vs. 16).

It is true that the Evangelist thus proceeds directly to the essential point of the narrative, but one cannot help asking whether precisely the austerity with which he depicts the role of the healed man and the abruptness with which he ends it do not have a deeper meaning. Interpreters deal with it in various ways. Schlatter "historicizes" : by making Jesus known to the Jews the man wanted to free himself from the suspicion that he opposed the validity of the sabbath commandment.15 Bultmann recognizes that this could be a motive but thinks that thereby one goes outside the purpose of the narrative.16 Brown believes that the story portrays a true-to-life character but serves no theological purpose. Brown argues for the originality of the tradition (over against later literary invention). He then describes the character of the man as "unimaginative," as marked by "a chronic inability to seize opportunity," an example of "real dullness" (letting his benefactor slip away without asking his name). That he repays Jesus by reporting him to the Jews is, according to Brown, to be viewed less as "an example of treachery" (as Theodore of Mopsuestia urges in his commentary on John) than of "persistent naiveté."17 It is questionable, however, whether, alongside all the marks of genuineness the tradition displays, one may also attribute to it such psychological finesse in the portrayal of characters. Generally speaking, one can certainly not rank this as one of its marks.

Another approach, one that involves the role of the healed man in the kerygmatic thrust of the story, seems more acceptable. For this a

compromise with the story of the man born blind (ch. 9), which in many respects runs parallel, offers the key. Not only are both stories governed from the start by the purpose of the healings (cf. 5:14 and 9:1-4), but their details also show a striking resemblance. In both Jesus "saw a man" (9:1; cf. 5:5, 6), the healed man is called to give account (5:10; 9:13), the man does not know where Jesus is (5:13; 9:12), and Jesus later encounters him and speaks with him (5:14; 9:35ff.). But while the healed paralytic here places all responsibility for the violation of the sabbath on Jesus' shoulders (5:12), the blind man increasingly defends Jesus and even takes his side to the degree that the Jews excommunicate him (9:24-34). And when Jesus then "finds" him and reveals himself to him, he falls down at Jesus' feet and acknowledges him as the Son of man (9:38). But the healed paralytic returns to "the Jews" (5:15). He takes their side, remains in his old world, and does not let himself be led out of it by Jesus, neither by his healing nor by the warning word of farewell. This involves more than weakness of character. It is a portrayal of people who will not let themselves be moved to enter the kingdom of God by Jesus' power and words, no matter how liberating the effect of those words. This story thus represents a particular response to the gospel, one with which, without any further explanation, the Evangelist unmistakably confronts his readers.18

2. John 5:16-30

Jesus Claims to Be the Son of God

16 So the Jewish leaders began harassing[c] Jesus for breaking the Sabbath rules. 17 But Jesus replied, “My Father is always working, and so am I.” 18 So the Jewish leaders tried all the harder to find a way to kill him. For he not only broke the Sabbath, he called God his Father, thereby making himself equal with God.

19 So Jesus explained, “I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does. 20 For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing. In fact, the Father will show him how to do even greater works than healing this man. Then you will truly be astonished. 21 For just as the Father gives life to those he raises from the dead, so the Son gives life to anyone he wants. 22 In addition, the Father judges no one. Instead, he has given the Son absolute authority to judge, 23 so that everyone will honor the Son, just as they honor the Father. Anyone who does not honor the Son is certainly not honoring the Father who sent him.

24 “I tell you the truth, those who listen to my message and believe in God who sent me have eternal life. They will never be condemned for their sins, but they have already passed from death into life.

25 “And I assure you that the time is coming, indeed it’s here now, when the dead will hear my voice—the voice of the Son of God. And those who listen will live. 26 The Father has life in himself, and he has granted that same life-giving power to his Son. 27 And he has given him authority to judge everyone because he is the Son of Man.[d] 28 Don’t be so surprised! Indeed, the time is coming when all the dead in their graves will hear the voice of God’s Son, 29 and they will rise again. Those who have done good will rise to experience eternal life, and those who have continued in evil will rise to experience judgment. 30 I can do nothing on my own. I judge as God tells me. Therefore, my judgment is just, because I carry out the will of the one who sent me, not my own will.

 Basic commentary on John 5:16-30

Commentary on John 5:16-30

4. Do what ‘the Father’ is doing

The Pharisees, who were deeply religious, had become corrupted, legalistic and rigid. They criticised Jesus because a man paralysed for thirty-eight years had carried his bed on the Sabbath.

Jesus is in communion with God and is the beloved Son of God who does everything the Father wants him to do. He cannot be separated from his Father. He is one with the Father.

Jesus is God: ‘he was even calling God his own Father, making himself equal with God’ (v.18). Yet Jesus is also the obedient Son of his Father. He said in response to those who wanted to kill him: ‘I tell you the truth, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does’ (v.19).

Rather than initiating your own plans and asking God to bless them, try to see what God’s plans are and join in.

5. Listen to God

The people of God got themselves into trouble, as we see in today’s Old Testament passage, because they did not listen to God (Judges 6:10). Jesus says the key to life is to listen to him and believe: ‘I tell you the truth, those who hear my word and believe him who sent me have eternal life and will not be condemned; they have crossed over from death to life’ (John 5:24).

Even Jesus says, ‘I can’t do a solitary thing on my own: I listen, then I decide’ (v.30, MSG).

6. Do all the good you can

You cannot earn your salvation by ‘doing good’. However, the evidence of a life of faith is a life of doing good. Jesus himself, we are told, ‘went around doing good’ (Acts 10.38). Jesus says, ‘For a time is coming when all who are in their graves will hear his voice and come out – those who have done good will rise to live, and those who have done evil will rise to be condemned’ (John 5:28–29).

As John Wesley said, ‘Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.’

7. Seek to please God

I find this one of the hardest things to even begin to put into practice. It seems so natural to seek to please myself. Jesus said, ‘I seek not to please myself but him who sent me’ (v.30). To live a life seeking to please God involves a complete U-turn. It is not only a one-off U-turn but it is something that you have to try to put into practice every day. It is not easy!

Father, help me to listen to your voice, to discern what you are doing and join in – not seeking to please myself but rather seeking to please you.

 Advanced commentary on John 5:16-30

Verse 16 takes us to the actual core of the story: the conflict between "the Jews" and Jesus. That they persecuted him (because he did "these things"19 on the sabbath) indicates the seriousness of the matter. Some scholars assume this entailed a formal judicial process, even a trial before a Sanhedrin. Vss. 17-47 would then represent Jesus' defense.20 But the further course of the narrative does not point in that direction. In vss. 19-47 Jesus alone is the speaker and there is nothing about a trial — no verdict or adjournment. The "persecution" was a conspiracy against Jesus' life (vs. 18; cf. also Mt. 12:14; Mk. 3:6). The imperfect tense verbs in vss. 16 and 18 speak not just of the immediate reaction to what has happened in vs. 15 but of the continuing position of "the Jews" vis-à-vis Jesus, arising from that reaction.

Verse 17 contains Jesus' fundamental answer and the basis for the entire discourse that begins in vs. 19. In this answer Jesus raises the conflict over the sabbath to the level on which he wants people to understand both the sabbath and his own "work" on the sabbath: "My Father is still working, and I am working." Just what is meant by the Father's work and his own concurrent work will become

clearer in what follows. But with this statement the difference between him and those who are against him is established. No more than in the conflict over the temple (2:18ff.) does the dispute concern the manner of worshiping God or the measure of strictness to be applied in the observance of the law. The lines are, rather, drawn over God in the temple and over Jesus' authority to act and to speak with regard to temple and sabbath as the One sent by the Father.

18 "The Jews" do not see the underlying unity between the two issues: they speak in terms of "not only, but also." But they do understand where the radical break between them and Jesus is located. In their own words: he not only makes (the law of) the sabbath non-binding, thus "breaking" it, but also, by calling God his Father, makes "himself equal with God" — for them the most direct kind of blasphemy. Jesus' reply, which begins in vs. 19, is a response to both charges.

The Self-Witness of God's Son21

19-20a The discourse that now follows is very important for the entire construction of the Gospel (see the Introduction). The first part contains Jesus' real defense against this double charge spelled out in vs. 18: Vss. 19 and 20 are closely related to vs. 17 and therefore echo the conflict over the sabbath. At the same time this beginning of the reply also takes up the charge that Jesus would make himself equal with God. With great emphasis ("Truly, truly . ..") Jesus rejects any idea that he would ascribe to himself the authority and freedom that belong only to God and thus put himself next to God. He appeals to the fact that as Son he is not able to do anything of his own accord if he does not see the Father do it (vs. 19). And that is again (vs. 20) because the love of the Father goes out to him (cf. 3:35) and makes him a participant in all that he does. Hence this entire passage places Jesus' "working" on the sabbath — absolutely

excluding every form of presumption — on the basis of his relationship to the Father (cf. 2:16).

In this connection, some interpreters speak of a parable that expresses, in general terms, a son's dependence vis-à-vis his father and that is used here to illustrate Jesus' relationship to God: "if we read Son and Father without the capital letters . . . , we have a little picture of an apprenticed son, learning his trade in his father's shop, as Jesus himself did at Nazareth."22 However attractive at first sight this view may be, there are significant objections against it. In the first place one has to assume that the absolute reference to "the" father and "the" son first occurs parabolically and then, without no indication, passes directly to God as "the Father" and Christ as "the Son" in vs. 20b, and that the father and the son occur first as subjects in the parable (vs. 20a) and then (vs. 20b) in divine reality — a rhetorical form that is hard to place.

Furthermore, the Fourth Gospel repeatedly traces Jesus' speech and action to what he "saw" and "heard" (while with the Father), and in that connection there is no reason to think of a parable. Vs. 30 mentions "hearing," which is parallel to "seeing" in vs. 19. In 3:32 "seeing" and "hearing" occur together, while 8:26, 40; 15:15 mention only "hearing." These texts expressly associate this "seeing" and "hearing" with Jesus' relationship to the Father, clearly not by means of a parable, but by direct reference to God as the Father (cf. 1:18; 6:46; 8:26, 38, 40). There is no reason to interpret 5:19ff. differently. Here the Son's "seeing," the Father's "love" for the Son, and the Father's "showing" the Son all that the Father does have the surplus value of the unique relationship between Christ as Son and God as Father, extending right into préexistence (see the comments on 3:11, 32). Vs. 19 does, to be sure, mention "seeing" in the present (by contrast with the other texts mentioned), whereas vs. 25 has "hearing" in the future. From this alternation it is clear that in "seeing" and "hearing" we are dealing with neither just a "program" that the Father has given the Son once for all to carry out nor with incidental ad hoc instructions, but with the continuing agreement of the Son's speech and action with the Father, agreement rooted in his oneness with the Father (cf. 1:1a) and in the absolute authority bestowed on him as the beloved Son (cf. 3:35; 5:21ff.). Hence it can be said that the Son speaks and acts in accord both with what he has seen and heard from the Father and with what the Father will show him.

Furthermore, there should be no misunderstanding with regard to the thrust of the statement "the Son can do nothing of his own

accord but only. ..." These words have often been understood as an expression of Jesus' modesty and sense of subordination to the Father by means of which he is said to have defended himself against the accusation of "the Jews" that he made himself equal with God. Jesus does not reject equality with God, however, but the idea that he made himself equal with God. "Of his own accord" means apart from the Father, on his own authority. Over against this vss. 19 and 20 place all the emphasis on Jesus' fellowship and unity with the Father. That the Son "can do nothing of his own accord but only what he sees the Father doing" is explained not by subordination to the Father but by Sonship: "For whatever he [the Father] does, that the Son does likewise" (vs. 19c).23 That is what makes him the Son. Similarly vs. 20a: "For the Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing." That is what makes him the Father.

So-called liberal exegesis of the turn of the twentieth century attempted to understand this unity of Jesus with God in a moral sense, as a unity realized in Jesus' decisions and action, a unity that could and should be the final outcome of every person's relationship with God. But, as Bultmann correctly remarks, vs. 19 "seeks to guard against just a way of looking at him."24 The "not of his own accord" that runs through this whole Gospel (neither "acting" of his own accord [5:19; 8:28], "speaking" on his own [7:17; 12:49; 14:10], nor "coming" of his own accord [7:28; 8:42, etc.]) is the negative counterpart of all the statements that say that the Son does what the Father does, does the will of the Father, acts on the authority of the Father, that those who see him see the Father, and that he and the Father are one (e.g., 4:34; 8:16, 29; 14:9; 17:2, 23).25

All this brings to expression, in a variety of phrases and innumerable variations, the great themes of the prologue: the Word became flesh and the Word was God, that is, both the identity of action and speech of the Father and the Son, an identity proceeding from the deity of the Word, and the distinctive discourse about Father and Son. Because the Word became flesh, the Father, by sending the Son and putting all things into his hand, so far from remaining behind in heaven, makes himself present in all that the Son does, so that he that has seen the Son has also seen the Father. But in the incarnation of the Word the Son reveals himself as distinct from the Father, as the one who was sent by the Father and who does what he sees the Father doing and what the Father "will show him." Hence the unity of the Father and the Son cannot be expressed apart from the distinctive discourse about both; and, on the other hand, this distinctiveness never detracts from the unity.

In his commentary Bultmann deals at length with this relationship, upholding its utter uniqueness against all ethicizing interpretations and interpreting the unity of Father and Son only partially on the analogy of the relationship to God of the Old Testament messengers from God and prophets. But he argues that the Fourth Gospel does not present this unity "in order to provide the basis for a speculative Christology."26 When it is said that the Son does not act "of his own accord," that he has been sent and acts on behalf of his Father, this reference to his origin only attests and grounds his significance to those who see and hear him. According to Bultmann, the statements about Jesus' equality with God (one that hears him hears God; one that sees him sees God; cf. 3:34; 17:8; 14:9) mark the situation of those who hear and see Jesus and do not define the "metaphysical nature" of the Revealer himself. In this regard Bultmann cites Calvin, who wrote that in the Arian conflict both sides mistakenly appealed to Jn. 5:19 because "this discourse is not concerned with the naked divinity of Christ" but with "the Son of God as He was manifested in the flesh."27

Bultmann further believes that in the Fourth Gospel this wholly unique relationship of the Son and the Father and the discourse of Jesus authorized by it are expressed in the terminology of the Gnostic myth. "The latter speaks of the sending of a préexistent divine being that in its metaphysical mode of being is equal to God and was sent by him to carry out his work of revelation." While John distanced himself from the content of this mythology, he is said to have used its images and concepts to describe the nonmythological historical reality and validity of Jesus' words and works as the words and works of God.28

Undoubtedly all this contains the important truth — mentioned in our discussion of the prologue (see on ch. 1 above) — that in the Fourth Gospel Jesus' Sonship, deity, and préexistence are always referred to in close connection with his work as man, as the incarnate Word, and hence always "on two levels."29 It is also clear that the basis — and "background" — of this discourse about his unique relationship to God does not lie in an ontological christology, into which and against which the significance of the historic self-revelation of Jesus as the Son of God could be fitted and understood, but that, conversely, it is precisely this historic self-revelation that is fundamental for the Fourth Gospel's "christology."

But that does not mean, as Bultmann thinks,30 that everything the Fourth Gospel says about Jesus' unique relationship to God as that of the Son to the Father is there only to bring out the meaning that his words and actions have for those who see and hear him and that this meaning could be abstracted from the identity of his person. Other commentators also want to distinguish between a "functional" and an "ontological" christology: the latter is only the "mythological" or "ideological" expression of the meaning of the work of Jesus of Nazareth. But it has been correctly noted, for example by de Jonge, that in order to bring out the distinctive and unique character of Jesus' discourse and actions John had to go back to the origin of him who spoke and acted thus; and therefore that it does not make sense to play "action" off against "being," "function" against "nature." And in texts that some characterize as using "mythological" language, such as the descent of the Son "from heaven" or "from above," even there one would have to say that the Evangelist is dealing with the "nature" of the Son in his relationship with the Father.31

Hence, while one can correctly say that the Fourth Gospel refers repeatedly to Jesus' origin, Sonship, and préexistence in close connection with and as grounding for the meaning of his work,32 such reference makes sense only if it is meant, not in an ideological or mythological sense, but ontologically. For however true it is that "to know Christ" is "to know his benefits," that does not mean that as the Son of God Christ derives his existence (his "nature") from what he means to those who see and hear him. Rather, it is the grand goal of the Fourth Gospel to trace the miracle of Jesus' work to the miracle of his person and to bring out that because he is the Christ, the Son of God, he gives life to everyone who believes in him.

This implies that it is extremely unlikely that, for his readers in their confrontation with the synagogue, John, and Jesus himself in his dialogue with the Jews, spoke of this origin and "nature" in the language and imagery of a Gentile-syncretistic mythology and not from the knowledge of that God whom Jesus called his Father and whom Israel had always known, the God of "the beginning." It is of the Word of this God, who in the beginning created life and light, that the Evangelist speaks when in his prologue he mainly traces the "meaning" of Jesus' words and works to his origin and "nature." It is also the nature of the incarnate Word that forms the basis for the pronouncements in ch. 5, which are pivotal for the entire Gospel, to the effect that "the Son can do nothing of his own accord but only what he sees the Father doing" because "the Father loves the Son and shows him all that he himself is doing."

Verses 20b-23 refer to the nature of these works, still in connection with Jesus' appeal to the works of his Father (vs. 17). The idea that though God rested from his work of creation (Gn. 2:2ff.; Ex. 20:11; 31:17) nevertheless continues to work was not disputed among the Jews. The rabbinic literature does reflect on the nature of God's work, specifically in regard to what he did, and did not, continue to do after creation.33

But the Johannine text does not allude to any of this; Jesus simply assumes the continuity of the divine work, and what he understands by it becomes clear enough: It is the works that are now becoming manifest in what the Son is doing, the works of divine love that are making their way into the world in the work of the Son (vs. 20; cf. 3:35). These include the healing of the cripple, and other works;34 but they will be even "greater than these": raising the dead, giving them life, and the exercise of judgment (vss. 21, 22). In other words, they are the works that usher in the great future, the coming of the kingdom of God, and that therefore are to give Jesus' opponents even more reason to marvel at him than they did now in their perplexity and unbelief (cf. 7:21).

There is now no further mention of the sabbath. The conflict over the sabbath serves as the occasion and basis for the grand self-revelation and self-legitimation of Jesus as the Son of God. But, it is implied, that is all that needs to be said about the sabbath. The issue does not sink out of sight in this mighty christology as an insignificant minor matter but is rather incorporated into, and made serviceable to, the consummating and saving work of God in the Son — even on the sabbath. Thus the christological understanding of the sabbath in the Fourth Gospel is combined with the soteriological and anthropological approach of the Synoptic Gospels (e.g., Lk. 13:15). Conversely, the condemnation of the healing of a paralytic on the sabbath is an abstraction of the sabbath law from the whole of redemptive revelation and hence a reversal of the meaning of the law, an idea developed further in 7:19-24.35 Jesus' warning to the

lost its fearsomeness, and death has been superseded. What makes this pronouncement special is, of course, that the final decision that determines the life and future of human beings and that is spoken of here and in what follows in eschatological language is transferred from the future to the present, in accordance with the word that Jesus speaks as the one sent by the Father and with the answer people give to it. The distinction between present and future is not thereby canceled out (see below), but eternal life does begin qualitatively in the present. Death also gains a different content than what it usually has for humans: already in this life it is experienced as a passage to true eternal life and thus loses its all-threatening, ultimately critical character for the future. It is no longer ahead of a person but behind him or her.

25 This is confirmed in a new and most emphatic statement. As an expression of Jesus' messianic consciousness, it may perhaps be considered the most powerful pronouncement in John's Gospel, one in which what was said in vs. 24 is concretized in an extreme and almost paradoxical way: "The hour is coming, and now is [as in 4:23!] that the dead will hear the Son of God's voice, and those who hear will live." The reference here is not only to the dead in the great future. For the voice of the Son of God that calls the dead to life resounds now. Those who hear this voice will not just live in the future, therefore, but now already they will "pass out of death into life," delivered from the power of death by the voice that calls them to rise (cf. 1 Jn. 3:14).

26 All this is again motivated (cf. vs. 21) by means of an appeal to Jesus' Sonship. The expression "to have life in oneself" is not intended as a general description of the divine "being" but as a reference to the fact that, just as the Father as Creator and Consummator possesses life, he has given that possession also to the Son, not merely as the executor of incidental assignments but in the absolute sense of sharing in the Father's power. And it is on account of that power and authority (see also vss. 27ff.) that the great decisive "hour" of God is not only coming but here. The second does not suspend the first. The hour that is continues to come, just as he who has come can still be called the Coming One (cf. 1 Jn. 2:28; 3:2). But the central point in this context is that both the "coming" and "the having come" of the hour — both future and present, salvation and judgment — have their ground in Jesus as the one sent by the Father, the Son of God clothed with all authority. For that reason all the questions one might wish to ask here can only be answered in terms of him, the nature of his mission and sonship.

We are not expressly told what it means to "have eternal life" or to "pass out of death into life." The same thing is described elsewhere in soteriological terms like "light" (cf. 1:4), as not "remaining under the wrath of God" (3:36), as becoming "children of God" (l:12f.). It does not consist in a temporary or incidental anticipation of the heavenly life, an ecstatic state, being temporarily lifted up out of time, or the like. Nor does the death from which those who hear the voice of the Son of God rise to life consist only of the experience or fear of death, in which a person shrinks back from the limit of his possibilities and "existence" — for one of the marks of this state is that one can think himself alive (e.g., 9:40, 41). The criterion of what "life" or "death" means and of what a person should or should not desire, fear, or not fear does not lie in what he understands of them from within himself, but in hearing the word of the Son of God, that is, in what the Son of God promises to and demands from him in the way of faith. As for life, it is life, light, and freedom in him (3:16; 20:31; 16:33, etc.); and as for death, it is the death of which the Son makes one aware and from which he wants a person to arise.

But, as already indicated, all that is not summed up at once here. The issue here is, above all, the that: that it is he, that life is in his name, and in the path he travels as the one sent for that purpose by God (see also on 8:12). It is this that that was and remained the core issue in the continuing confrontation between church and synagogue and (we may add) between church and world and between a person and himself or herself.

In verse 27 this self-legitimation of Jesus as the one who, like God, "has life in himself" is continued, but now from the perspective of the coming "hour." On the meaning of this verse, especially as the transition to vss. 28 and 29, there is great diversity of opinion.

Some interpret the striking transition from the "realized" eschatology of vss. 25 and 26 to the future in vss. 28 and 29 as a later insertion. So specifically Bultmann,39 according to whom a later redactor reintroduced, by way of a simple addition, "the popular eschatology ... so radically swept aside" by the Evangelist in vss. 24 and 25. In this way, the bringing into the present of the great future (which Bultmann so much values as the Evangelist's "demytholo-gizing") in the word of the Son of God that acquits and judges now is said to have been neutralized by the redactor on account of the heresy it might yield (cf. 2 Tm. 2:18). Others, who reject the notion of a material set of opposites, nevertheless posit a theological development in the Evangelist in which the conception embodied in vss.

19-25 is said to represent another (probably later) phase of Johannine theology than that of vss. 26-30.40

Still, however great the emphasis with which this Gospel stresses that salvation has already come and that eternal life has begun in the present, the idea that this realized eschatology is incompatible with the futuristic pronouncements of vss. 28 and 29 seems to me totally unacceptable. Already in the very statement that "the hour is coming and now is," the future is included in so many words. If one surveys the entire Gospel,41 this becomes even clearer. One can hardly dismiss as incidental "corrections" or "accommodations"42 to "popular images," the emphatically repeated pronouncements Jesus makes about raising believers up at the last day (6:39, 40ff.; cf. 12:48; together with 5:27-29!), given their content and the prominent place they occupy in ch. 6.43 And even more, the entire basic structure of the Gospel (both "christological" and "soteriological") is opposed to such a procedure. That believers "have" eternal life already in the present and have "passed out of death into life" (vss. 14-16, 24) does not exclude the idea that death also continues and that life is still full of threat and awaits a final redemption and glorification (cf. 11:25; 12:26; 14:2f.; 17:24). This is so partly because the mission of the Son, not finding its fulfillment in the present world, offers to his own, in his exaltation and glorification, a future that transcends the present world (cf. 16:33; 17:5, 24; 21:22). It is inconceivable, therefore, that the Evangelist, though his Gospel lacks lengthy prophecies like those in Mark 13 par., wanted to eliminate this future expectation in favor of a radically present "eschatology" whose only future consisted in being placed over and over before a decision and in freedom (an eschatology "in the Word").

This salvation-historical unity of present and future, in which the two are inseparably bound up with, and determine, each other, can be maintained in this passage not only on the basis of general considerations but is no less present in the passage itself, specifically in the manner in which "the Son of man" occurs in the transitional verse, v. 27. There the pronouncement of vs. 22 that the Father "has given all judgment to the Son" is explained: "because he is the Son of man. " At first blush it may seem strange that to support the powers of the Son reference is made to the fact that he is "the Son of man." But by this argument a line is being extended that is visible from the beginning (cf. 1:51; 3:13f.) and that continues in what follows (see on 6:27, 62; 12:23, 28), where in each instance the figure of the Son of man is advanced to express the transcendent character of Jesus' messiahship and the all-embracing, present-and-future-en

compassing mission of Jesus as the Son of God (on this see at length the comments on 1:51).

But nowhere more clearly than here do we learn that this title refers to "the Son of man" of Dn 7:13f., the one who comes on the clouds of heaven and is clothed with divine glory and unlimited power.44 It is from within his self-identification with this "eschatological" figure and the divine qualities attributed to him that Jesus not only speaks of the transcendent (surpassing all human measure and power) meaning of his coming into the world already in 1:51 and 3:13, but here also traces his authority as the Son to call the dead to life now to the power given the Son of man to execute judgment (cf. also Mt. 19:28; 24:30f.; 25:31f.; 26:64; Mk. 8:38; 13:26f.; Lk. 21:27).

28, 29 For that reason those to whom Jesus is speaking should not "marvel"45 at what has been said about the "voice" that calls the dead to life. What they should understand — but do not because of their unbelief (vs. 18) — is that in Jesus as the Son sent by the Father they are confronted with the great future that they themselves expect and are thus placed in the presence of him whose voice will one day be heard (not only by those who are listening now but) by all who are in the graves and who on hearing it will rise — those who have done good to the resurrection of life and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment (see the comments on 3:20f.).

Hence in vss. 24-29 there is no question of two mutually exclusive eschatologies or of an "apocalyptic compensation" in vss. 28 and 29 for the "now" in vs. 25. We see, rather, the inseparable connection between the present and the future.46 What is most prominent is the utterly unique relevance of this great future, as a result of which decisions are already being made now with regard to what will one day come to pass. On the other hand it is no less true that the relevance of the coming hour ("the hour is coming, and now is") derives its basis and urgency from the fact that he who thus speaks ("on earth," cf. Mt. 9:6) is the one who descended from heaven and who possesses eternal life in virtue of an authority that encompasses earth and heaven, present and future, and thus represents the salvation and judgment of God in its all-inclusive significance.

30 Here Jesus repeats what he said at the beginning of the pericope (cf. vs. 19: by thus speaking Jesus is not acting of his own accord but on behalf of and in fellowship with the Father) and applies it to the authority with which he judges: "as I hear, I judge." Here again "hearing" is equivalent to "seeing" (see the comments on vs. 19). And "judging" presumably refers to the acquittal and judgment that are realized already now in his preaching. On account of his "hearing," his fellowship with his Father, he does nothing "on his own authority," on the basis of which they might charge him with blasphemy. Therefore his judgment is just, in accord with the standards of God. Nor is it his own will that he seeks to effect but the will of the one who sent him (cf. 4:34). And herein lies the transition to what follows, where the "witness," that is, the legitimation of what has so far been said, becomes a separate topic of discussion.

3 John 5:31-47

Witnesses to Jesus

31 “If I were to testify on my own behalf, my testimony would not be valid. 32 But someone else is also testifying about me, and I assure you that everything he says about me is true. 33 In fact, you sent investigators to listen to John the Baptist, and his testimony about me was true. 34 Of course, I have no need of human witnesses, but I say these things so you might be saved. 35 John was like a burning and shining lamp, and you were excited for a while about his message. 36 But I have a greater witness than John—my teachings and my miracles. The Father gave me these works to accomplish, and they prove that he sent me. 37 And the Father who sent me has testified about me himself. You have never heard his voice or seen him face to face, 38 and you do not have his message in your hearts, because you do not believe me—the one he sent to you.

39 “You search the Scriptures because you think they give you eternal life. But the Scriptures point to me! 40 Yet you refuse to come to me to receive this life.

41 “Your approval means nothing to me, 42 because I know you don’t have God’s love within you. 43 For I have come to you in my Father’s name, and you have rejected me. Yet if others come in their own name, you gladly welcome them. 44 No wonder you can’t believe! For you gladly honor each other, but you don’t care about the honor that comes from the one who alone is God.[e]

45 “Yet it isn’t I who will accuse you before the Father. Moses will accuse you! Yes, Moses, in whom you put your hopes. 46 If you really believed Moses, you would believe me, because he wrote about me. 47 But since you don’t believe what he wrote, how will you believe what I say?”

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Commentary on John 5:31-47

Encounter Jesus daily

If we fail to see that the Bible is about Jesus and a relationship with him, reading it can easily become a dry, academic and arid activity. Once you understand that it is all about Jesus, and you see that studying the Bible is a way to grow in your relationship with him, it becomes the source of life (v.40).

The way to find life is to come to Jesus. On numerous occasions, especially in John’s Gospel, Jesus refers to this life as ‘eternal life’ (for example, v.39). Eternal life comes from this relationship (v.40). It starts now and goes on forever. It is the high-definition life.

How can you know that Jesus really is who he says he is? As if in a court of law, Jesus calls four witnesses, as evidence, to support his case.

The first witness Jesus calls is other people – in particular, John the Baptist (vv.31–35). John came as ‘a witness to testify’ (1:7). Today, there are more witnesses than ever before (over 2 billion) pointing to Jesus.

The second witness Jesus calls is his own life work. This is a ‘weightier’ witness than the first one – it is the ‘very work the Father has given me to finish’ (5:35), which culminates in the resurrection of the crucified Christ who cries out on the cross, ‘It is finished’ (19:30).

The third witness Jesus calls is the Father’s direct testimony (5:37). You too can experience his direct testimony today through his Spirit in your heart (15:26).

The fourth witness Jesus calls is the Scriptures. The whole Bible is about Jesus and about coming into a relationship with him. Jesus says, ‘These are the Scriptures that testify about me’ (5:39). He says, ‘Moses… wrote about me’ (v.46).

It is possible to ‘study the Scriptures’ but miss the whole point. Jesus says to religious leaders, ‘You diligently study the Scriptures because you think that by them you possess eternal life. These are the Scriptures that testify about me, yet you refuse to come to me to have life’ (vv.39–40). Every time you study the Bible, expect to encounter Jesus.

Even though there is ample evidence about Jesus, ultimately coming to him is an act of the will. And some, Jesus says, ‘refuse to come to me to have life’ (v.40). Why would anyone refuse?

Some are not willing to put God first in their lives (v.42). Others are more concerned about what people think than about what God thinks (v.44). Still others simply refuse to believe in spite of the evidence (v.47). ‘If you believed, really believed, what Moses said, you would believe me. He wrote of me’ (v.46, MSG).

Jesus touches our fundamental sin. We are continually seeking honour, glory and admiration from one another – seeking our own glory (v.44).

Do not worry about what other people think. What God thinks is what matters. Encounter Jesus again today and enjoy the full, abundant, spacious, open-hearted, high-definition life which Jesus offers.

Lord Jesus, today I come to you – the source of life. As I study the Scriptures, may my heart burn within me as I encounter you.

 Advanced commentary on John 5:31-47

5:31-47

Jesus' "Witnesses," the Unbelief of "the Jews"

31 In vss. 31-40 the concept of "witness" is central. The reference is to the witness in the judicial sphere. How can Jesus legitimate himself vis-à-vis these powerful pronouncements about himself? Even though in vs. 16 the word "persecute" is not meant in a formal juridical sense (see comments on vs. 16 and 8:14ff.), nevertheless there is between the Jewish authorities and Jesus a "case" in which he has to justify himself before his accusers in a way that is also valid for them. Therefore, what witnesses can he summon to testify on his behalf? In a way vs. 31 acknowledges the validity of such a demand. Here Jesus reacts to a judicial rule according to which, in an indictment, one cannot be exculpated on the basis of one's own testimony.47 Hence if Jesus were to appeal solely to himself ("bear witness to myself"), such testimony would not be "true," that is, judicially valid.

32-35 The "other" who "bears witness to him" (vs. 32) is God (not John the Baptist, as is evident from vs. 34). Jesus' comment that he "knows" that God's testimony is "true" (i.e., valid) means something like: this testimony is conclusive for him even if his opponents do not want to acknowledge it (cf., e.g., 7:28). But they, too, had already received clear testimony concerning Jesus from John the Baptist (vs. 33). For this Jesus refers to their own delegation and the testimony it had furnished them (cf. l:19ff.). It is not (vs. 34) as if he himself48 were dependent on this testimony for the truth concerning himself. He does not depend for this knowledge on any human testimony. He mentions John because John was the great witness sent

from God to lead Israel to faith (cf. 1:7, 31). Therefore, in order still to "save" his adversaries, Jesus confronts them even now with John's testimony.

When he further calls John (vs. 35) "the burning and shining light," he thus reminds them of the enormous impression John made at the time, in comparison with which the "light" emitted by all other teachers and preachers was dimmed (even though John was not "the" light that was to come into the world: 1:8; Lk. l:78f.; cf. Mt. ll:7ff.; 21:25ff.). For John was the herald of the kingdom of heaven that Israel had so long awaited. The fact that even Jesus' opponents had been "willing to rejoice for a while in [John's] light" proves on the one hand that their own past testifies against them when they now pretend that for his claim to have been sent by God Jesus had no other witness than himself; but it also shows the superficiality with which they treated those who on behalf of God bore witness to the truth among them: "for a while" they had been pleased to let themselves be mesmerized by the power with which John announced the arrival of a new dawn for Israel. But in their fickleness they had soon turned away from him again (cf. Mt. 11:17, 18): they did not (and do not) have the word of God abiding in them (vs. 38; cf. Mt. 13:21).

36 Jesus himself—"I, however" in the emphatic position — is not dependent on John's witness; he has a testimony greater than that of John. For this Jesus bases himself on the "works" that the Father "granted" him "to accomplish" (cf. the comments on 4:34). As is evident from the preceding mention of Jesus' "works" (cf. vss. 17, 19-20),49 this term refers to the content of Jesus' entire mission, his miracles and his words; for the words, Jesus' speaking with the authority of God's Son "to make alive" and "to judge," also belong to that which the Father has "granted" Jesus (cf. vss. 22,26,27). Implied in this, however, is that Jesus' legitimation does not consist only in something outside his own actions, or in some additional verification from without, as the Jews desired (cf. Mt. 12:38ff.; 16: Iff.; 1 Co. 1:22), something that would furnish to everyone an "objective" proof of his heavenly origin. No person who cannot recognize the work, voice, and revelation of God in Jesus ' work itself will be persuaded of it by some other independent means.

37-38 Finally, in vs. 37, this is asserted one more time with all possible clarity and emphasis: "[accordingly] the Father who sent me — he it is who has borne witness to me," namely in that which Jesus accomplished and said in virtue of the Father's mandate and authorization. Noteworthy in that connection is the perfect tense:

"has borne witness." Although this may relate exclusively to Jesus' works,50 it may also mean that this witness began before the coming and work of Jesus (cf. vs. 39).

However this may be, starting with vs. 37b Jesus charges that his accusers, despite the many reasons for them to accept the testimony concerning him, persisted in their unbelief. The point of vs. 37b in the argumentation is somewhat unclear. The statement has some affinity with Dt. 4:12, where God's "voice" and "form" are also referred to, though there, in the Sinai theophany, it is said that God's voice was heard. If, as some interpreters now think,51 one reads in the present verse that already at Sinai the Jews evinced the attitude they now assume toward Jesus, then we are told here that the "hearing" at Sinai was not the genuine hearing of faith. But then again in vs. 38 God's word is referred to as something they had received. It is questionable, therefore, that vs. 37b carries such a direct echo of Deuteronomy 4 as proof of the unbelief — manifesting itself even then — of the Jews. It seems rather that here again the reference is to "seeing" and "hearing" that are attributable only to the Son of God, and from the vantage point of which he speaks (cf. 1:18; 3:11; 5:19, 20; 6:46; 7:29). Jesus, then, is telling the Jews that, however much they as the people of the law pride themselves on their knowledge of God, they are barred from every form of direct access to God and that they are dependent on the testimony of others. And if, in keeping with this, Jesus then adds "and you do not have his word abiding in you," that implies both that the word of God had nevertheless come to them (above all, of course, in the law that had been given them [cf. vss. 39ff., 45ff.], but also in John's testimony) and that it had done them no good. For they did not have this word in them as something "abiding" (cf. vs. 35: "for a while"; 15:17; 1 Jn. 2:14, 24) as a guiding, life-directing word from God. Otherwise they would not, as now, react in unbelief toward him whom the God of that word had sent to them.52 They would have acknowledged him and not asked him for a testimony, for legitimation of his mission.

Verses 39 and 40 furnish further concretization of this point. Jesus refers his audience to the Scriptures, which did contain the word of God for them, and to their claim that they were students of it. The word used here for "search" or "explore" corresponds to a rabbinic term — daraš, cf. "midrash" — which denoted professional study and exposition of the law. It was Israel's privilege to possess these Scriptures (cf. Ro. 3:1), the fountain of all salvation and life, hence Israel's boast and glory (cf. Ro. 2:18ff.). The Jews believed

that in the Scriptures they had, unlike other nations, received the divinely given means by which to acquire righteousness unto life, the means of "making alive" (cf. Gl. 3:21; Lv. 18:5). It is to this belief that Jesus refers with "You search53 the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life." The intent of "you think" — also in light of vs. 39b and vss. 45ff. — is not to discredit the Scriptures as the source of light and life or, even less, to reject them altogether,54 but to persuade Jesus' hearers to distance themselves from the manner in which the Jews "searched" the Scriptures and believed they "had" life in that pursuit. For despite all their scrupulous examination of and boasting in the Scriptures, it escaped them that precisely those Scriptures could provide them with the evidence that they demanded from Jesus and could show them the way to eternal life. Jesus is not speaking here of specific Scripture passages but of the Scriptures as a whole, although, in view of vs. 45ff., we should probably think in particular of the books of Moses (cf. 1:45). Where and how these Scriptures testify of Jesus is not stated. Involved here is not just lack of insight into the Scriptures on the part of Jesus' opponents but (vs. 40) their ill-will, which prevented them from coming to Jesus to have the life that he wanted to bestow on them. It was this inner resistance that obscured for them the true meaning of the Scriptures (cf. 2 Co. 3:14).

41-44 What constituted the real cause of this resistance and would, as long as there was no change, permanently block the road to faith is further now analyzed from a new vantage point (vss. 41-44), again with an appeal to Moses (vss. 45-47). Central here is the concept of "honor" or "glory" (see also 7:18; 8:50, 54), which is linked here with the verbs "receive" (vss. 41 and 44a) and "seek" (vs. 44b), meaning: "gain honor, status for oneself," "vie for the favor of." In this connection everything depends on from whom one "receives" honor and tries to obtain favor. Whereas Jesus (vs. 41) testifies of himself that he does not seek "glory from people,"55 he states, in a very sharp declaration, that he has come to know56 his opponents as people who do not "have the love of God within them" (cf. vs. 38).

The reasoning in vs. 42 is somewhat proleptic insofar as it states a priori the reason for what is said in vs. 43a, namely that Jesus came in his Father's name but his opponents did not receive him. The reality of "coming in the name of the Father" as the one from whom Jesus derives his authority and credibility stands opposed here to seeking "glory from people" (vs. 41). But his opponents did

not receive him because they did not have the love of God in them. What motivated them is that which counts and is considered "honorable" among humankind. For "if another comes in his own name, him you will receive" (vs. 43). "In his own name," in contrast with vs. 43a, means "on his own authority" (cf. 7:18), deriving, that is, his credibility from that which he has to offer out of his own resources. They "receive," that is, make room for, regard as trustworthy, the "other" when he "comes," that is, when he plays his role among them, imposes his authority on them, and shares his favors with them. For in his coming he represents precisely that which counts as "glorious" and admirable among people. From patristic times there have been those who believed that this "other" is the devil or the Antichrist. It is more plausible that Jesus is referring to the false prophets or pseudo-messiahs who kept coming up in the history of the Jewish people (cf. Ac. 5:36f.) and would continue to do so (cf. Mt. 24:24 par.; 1 Jn. 2:18, etc.). But evidence for this is also lacking, nor is it implied in the context. Jesus is in fact speaking in very general terms about the way things are among people, how they try to impress each other and how they let themselves be impressed by each other.

But therein lies (vs. 44) the explanation for their lack of faith in him: "How would you be able to believe — you who [or "as long as you"]. . . ." "Believe" occurs absolutely here, but what is meant is that which is at stake over and over throughout this entire Gospel: faith in Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. We may assume that part of the background for this absolute formulation is found in the continuing confrontation between church and synagogue at the time this Gospel was written. In that context "the estimation of people" must have played a large role, especially on the part of Jews who out of fear of excommunication from the Jewish community could not persuade themselves to take the big step57 to Christian faith (cf. 12:43). At the same time the culpable and objectionable character of this "inability" to believe is laid utterly bare, specifically in the case of those who, in virtue of their own spiritual background, should have known better.

To the glory people "receive from one another" Jesus opposes the seeking of glory (approval, favor) from the only God.58 With "the only God" Jesus alludes to the great principle on which Israel's religion was founded, namely that the Lord, Israel's God, was one and as such commanded the people to love him with undivided love (cf. Dt. 6:4ff.). For that reason "honor" and glory are to be sought and

found only in him — the glory of "the life" he wants to bestow on them (vs. 40). Here, too, Jesus confronts the Jews who contradict him with the choice for or against him in its absolute significance: it is a choice for the honor of God or for that which comes from humans. Again it is clear how in this connection he is not (as they think, vs. 18) seeking his "own glory" or advancing his "own name" but the glory of his Father, who, of course, they claim to honor as the only God (cf. 8:54).

45-47 Jesus' repeated appeal to Moses has the same intent. When he asks them to believe and they refuse, they must not think that this is merely a matter between themselves and him or that he is therefore their accuser before the Father. Rather, their unbelief relates to their own sacred tradition, and thus the one who will accuse them is not Jesus but Moses, "on whom you set your hope." Therefore they are, by their unbelief, undermining their own position. Some think "hope" here refers to the personal role ascribed to Moses as intercessor with God.59 The contrast with "accuser" thereby becomes all the more striking. Still, what is presented here is primarily something other than the picture of Moses as the personal accuser before God in heaven.60 For in vss. 46 and 47 the reference is expressly to Moses' writings, in which Jesus' opponents have to do with Moses and from the possession of which they derive their hope and assurance (cf. vs. 39). Accordingly, Moses is above all their accuser on account of and in those writings: "he wrote of me." Therefore, Jesus can trace their unbelief in him to unbelief in Moses61 and can refer to Moses, on whom they placed their hope as intercessor and advocate, as their accuser.

Here again, as in vs. 39, the question is whether the reference is to a specific prophecy of Moses (Deuteromony 18?) or in a broader sense to the character of all of Moses' writings as witnessing to Christ (cf. 1:45; 8:56). The latter might be suggested by the plural: his "writings" (vs. 47).62 In any case, if the Jews had "believed Moses" and had understood in its true meaning Moses' reference to the one who was to come after him, they would not have rejected Jesus as a blasphemer. They would have recognized in Jesus the bringer of salvation predicted by Moses. But precisely this faith in Moses is what they lacked. They were unable to view "the law given through Moses" in its reference to the "grace and truth" that came "through Jesus Christ" (1:17). And therefore the issue between Jesus and them is irresolvable. For "if you do not believe his writings, how will you believe my words?" If they did not follow the course that Moses had pointed out to them for their faith, how could they ever come out in the vicinity of Jesus?

The distinction between "his writings" and "my words" seems at first to contain a conclusio a maiori ad minus ("if not his writings, how much less my words").63 But the intent is not to indicate a difference in importance or intelligibility between (Moses') writings and (Jesus') words but rather the unchangeable correspondence between the two. As long as the Jews did not understand that the Scriptures of Moses taught the same faith that Jesus demanded from them, he would always remain for them a stranger.

As in vs. 44 so here, the sentence, and now the chapter, ends with a rhetorical question: "how will you believe ... ?" The question could hardly be posed in a more pointed fashion. For by again involving Moses in the dispute and by designating him as the great accuser of the unbelief of the Jews, Jesus brought into the open the deepening background of conflict between himself and the Jews who rejected him. We are dealing not just with a divergence of roads within one and the same Israelite faith, but with the now-visible break in the essence of this faith itself.

John 6:1-25

Jesus Feeds Five Thousand

6 After this, Jesus crossed over to the far side of the Sea of Galilee, also known as the Sea of Tiberias. 2 A huge crowd kept following him wherever he went, because they saw his miraculous signs as he healed the sick. 3 Then Jesus climbed a hill and sat down with his disciples around him. 4 (It was nearly time for the Jewish Passover celebration.)5 Jesus soon saw a huge crowd of people coming to look for him. Turning to Philip, he asked, “Where can we buy bread to feed all these people?”6 He was testing Philip, for he already knew what he was going to do.

7 Philip replied, “Even if we worked for months, we wouldn’t have enough money[a] to feed them!”

8 Then Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, spoke up. 9 “There’s a young boy here with five barley loaves and two fish. But what good is that with this huge crowd?”

10 “Tell everyone to sit down,” Jesus said. So they all sat down on the grassy slopes. (The men alone numbered about 5,000.) 11 Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks to God, and distributed them to the people. Afterward he did the same with the fish. And they all ate as much as they wanted. 12 After everyone was full, Jesus told his disciples, “Now gather the leftovers, so that nothing is wasted.” 13 So they picked up the pieces and filled twelve baskets with scraps left by the people who had eaten from the five barley loaves.

14 When the people saw him[b] do this miraculous sign, they exclaimed, “Surely, he is the Prophet we have been expecting!”[c] 15 When Jesus saw that they were ready to force him to be their king, he slipped away into the hills by himself.

Jesus Walks on Water

16 That evening Jesus’ disciples went down to the shore to wait for him.17 But as darkness fell and Jesus still hadn’t come back, they got into the boat and headed across the lake toward Capernaum. 18 Soon a gale swept down upon them, and the sea grew very rough. 19 They had rowed three or four miles[d] when suddenly they saw Jesus walking on the water toward the boat. They were terrified, 20 but he called out to them, “Don’t be afraid. I am here![e]” 21 Then they were eager to let him in the boat, and immediately they arrived at their destination!

Jesus, the Bread of Life

22 The next day the crowd that had stayed on the far shore saw that the disciples had taken the only boat, and they realized Jesus had not gone with them. 23 Several boats from Tiberias landed near the place where the Lord had blessed the bread and the people had eaten. 24 So when the crowd saw that neither Jesus nor his disciples were there, they got into the boats and went across to Capernaum to look for him.  25 They found him on the other side of the lake and asked, “Rabbi, when did you get here?”

 Basic commentary

John 6:1-24

Sow generously

There are, of course, so many lessons to be learned from events in the life of Jesus. One of these is the principle that those who sow generously will also reap generously.

Jesus looked up and saw a great crowd coming towards him. ‘He said to Philip, “Where can we buy bread to feed these people?” He said this to stretch Philip’s faith’ (vv.5–6a, MSG). Faith is like a muscle, it grows by stretching.

In fact, although Jesus asked the question ‘he already had in mind what he was going to do’ (v.6b). This shows that it is alright to ask questions to which you already know the answer. (In fact, when I was practising as a barrister I was taught only to ask questions to which I already knew the answer!)

‘Philip answered him, “Eight months’ wages would not buy enough bread for each one to have a bite!” Another of his disciples… spoke up, “Here is a boy with five small barley loaves and two small fish, but how far will they go among so many?”’ (vv.7–8).

This boy’s act of generosity will never be forgotten. Jesus is able to do a lot with a little. The boy gave generously all that he had. It was not very much – it was ‘a drop in the bucket for a crowd like this’ (v.8, MSG).

However, it multiplied in the hands of Jesus. At least 5,000 people were fed and there was plenty left over. Jesus said, ‘Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted’ (v.12). If it needed a biblical basis, here is a biblical basis for not wasting food – it always seems a terrible waste if food is thrown away unnecessarily.

The world produces enough food to feed everyone. Yet, well over half a billion people are suffering from chronic undernourishment. At the same time, around a third of the food produced in the world for human consumption every year gets lost or wasted. Individually and corporately we need to act urgently on Jesus’ instruction: ‘Let nothing be wasted’ (v.12).

What you give to Jesus, he multiplies. The apostle Paul wrote, ‘Remember this: Whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows generously will also reap generously’ (2 Corinthians 9:6).

Make it your aim to be the most generous person you know. Be generous with your money, your possessions, your time and your love. You cannot out-give God. The more you give the more you will harvest and the more you will enjoy the favour of God on your life.

Straight after this amazing miracle of the feeding of the 5,000, the disciples find themselves in a storm (John 6:18). Jesus calls his disciples to move from a faith based on a very visible miracle that fulfilled their physical need to a faith that is a total trust in him and his words.

Miraculously, Jesus walks on the water towards them. They were ‘scared senseless’ (v.19, MSG). Jesus says to them, ‘It’s me. It’s all right. Don’t be afraid’ (v.20, MSG). Following Jesus is not always easy. There are storms and other challenges of life, but Jesus’ presence with us is transformational. No wonder the crowd went ‘in search of Jesus’ (v.24).

Thank you, Jesus, that what I give to you, you multiply. Lord, help me to be generous with everything – with money, possessions, hospitality and time.

 Advanced commentary

The Feeding of the Five Thousand, Jesus Walks on the Sea

As stated earlier, chs. 5 and 6 constitute the thematic beginning of the great middle section of the Gospel, which ends with ch. 10. In broad outline ch. 6 has the same construction as ch. 5: a miracle performed by Jesus (here a double miracle, vss. 1-25) is the point of departure for a lengthy discourse or didactic dialogue in continuing confrontation with the hearers — first with "the people," then also with the Jews — with regard to Jesus' identity and the significance of his coming (vss. 26-58).

In vss. 1-25, two questions deserve priority: First, how is this section connected with what precedes? Second, how should we evaluate the relationship between the narrative of the two miracles and the corresponding material in the Synoptics? For the first question, see the introduction to 5:1-6:71 above. In my opinion, the narrative in ch. 5 constitutes an intermezzo in Jesus' stay — mentioned in 4:Iff., 44 and further described in 6:1 —in Galilee. Hence, although any geographic link with ch. 5 is lacking, in many respects ch. 5 is basic to the theme that dominates ch. 6 ("bread from heaven"), as regards both the work Jesus had come to accomplish (cf. 6:38ff.) and the life-giving and division-causing effect of that work (cf. 6:47ff., 53ff., 66ff.). With regard to Galilee, this discourse leads to a climax and conclusion with the departure of some disciples and Peter's confession (6:66ff.).

As for the second question, quite apart from the story of the feeding of the five thousand itself one can point to the combination of that story with that of Jesus' walking on the sea, which occurs in both John 6 and Mt. 14:13-32; Mk. 6:32-51 (Luke lacks the latter story). Moreover, the contexts of the story in John and Mark (with Matthew) exhibit a variety of analogous components: the request for a sign (Jn. 6:25-34; cf. Mk. 8:11-13), Peter's confession (Jn. 6:60-69; cf. Mk. 8:27-30), and the prediction of suffering (Jn. 6:70, 71; cf. Mk. 8:31-33). To this one may perhaps add Jesus' warning against the leaven of the Pharisees in Mk. 8:14ff. in contrast with the true bread that Jesus offers (Jn.

6:35-39), and that as a possible allusion to the time of Passover (cf. Jn. 6:4). All these motifs and themes, though they diverge somewhat and are expressed in different ways, somehow belong together in the tradition, whether historically or thematically or both. At the same time the differences are such that it must be deemed almost impossible to trace the story of John 6 to (one of) the Synoptic Gospels. That Matthew and Mark record two feedings and that the themes of a request for a sign, the leaven of the Pharisees, and Peter's confession do not come up until after the second show that there can be no question of direct dependence, unless one assumes a most fragmentary and arbitrary use by John of his fellow Evangelists.

The same is true of the reproduction of the two main events — the multiplication of loaves and Jesus' walking on the sea. Brown's detailed comparison of the story of the loaves in John and Luke and the two stories in Matthew and Mark shows the following: First, though there are several far-reaching similarities between John and the (five!) stories in the Synoptics, none of the Synoptic versions can be identified as John's model or starting point. Second, John has a number of details that can be found in none of the Synoptics — for example, the crossing of the sea (vs. 1), the Passover season (vs. 6), the identification of Philip and Andrew (vss. 7, 8), the lad with five barley loaves (vs. 9), and Jesus' command to gather the fragments so that nothing would be wasted (vs. 12). Third, John lacks all sorts of details present in the Synoptic versions, which would be hard to explain if he used (one of) these stories. Brown's conclusion seems justified: "There is one logical explanation for all these features, omissions, additions, and parallels, namely, that the Evangelist did not copy from the Synoptics but had an independent tradition of the multiplication that was like, but not the same as, the Synoptic traditions."64

The conclusion from both these questions leads us to adhere to the traditional sequence of chs. 5 and 6 and to evaluate the text of the narrated material on its own merits and not as dependent on the Synoptic stories.

1-4 The opening of the story takes us to the region — characteristic of the Synoptic Gospels — around "the Sea of Galilee," which is "the Sea of Tiberias."65 It is not stated precisely from where to where the crossing took place but the destination was clearly the eastern shore (cf. vs. 16). The "multitude" (vs. 2) that constantly66 followed Jesus apparently traveled on foot along the northeastern side of the lake. The signs that caused them to do so are not the specific miracles reported earlier; this assumes, rather, as in 2:23, that the reader knew of Jesus' miraculous power in general. That the crowd's aim was to see miracles is not presented as a positive assessment of their interest (cf. 2:24; 4:45, 48). Vss. 1 and 2 are strongly reminiscent of Mt. 15:29, 31, but are intended to furnish only a general depiction of the setting, of which "the hills" in vs. 3 also speak (cf. Mt. 5:1; Mk. 3:13). The mention of the approaching Passover in vs. 4 is striking. This is apparently not just a time indication but is also intended to evoke the content of the story that follows (see below). This is the second Passover reported in John (cf. 2:13, 23). For the expression "the feast of the Jews," see the comments on 2:13.

5-9 Jesus "lifting up his eyes" and "seeing a large crowd coming toward him" (vs. 5) is reminiscent of 4:35. As an introduction to Jesus' question to Philip it evokes (as in 4:35) the image of the messianic age, in which (as the harvester: cf. again 4:35; as the shepherd: cf. Mk. 6:34; as the king: cf. Jn. 6:15) Jesus sees the people come to him with all their needs and hopes — a situation in which, by way of a pertinent question, he also immediately involves his disciples ("From where shall we .. . ?"). But the question does seem totally inspired by perplexity or even meant as a rhetorical question rather than intended seriously to inquire from Philip where the bread could possibly come from to feed that many people. But, as the Evangelist immediately adds, the question served to test Philip, to see whether, as a follower and confessor of the Messiah, he understood the challenge inherent in this situation and how he would react to it. For — says the Evangelist — "Jesus himself knew what he would do."

By thus having Jesus ask the first question (unlike the Synoptics; cf. Mk. 6:35ff.) and therefore immediately giving him the initiative, the Evangelist again focuses the entire narrative on Jesus and from the beginning gives to this question to his disciple a certain slant that, initially at least, the disciple does not understand. As the shift in the story will show with unmistakable clarity (cf. vss. 26ff.), Jesus is not simply or primarily interested in providing for a momentary need for food (cf. Mk. 6:35ff.) but no less to give to his disciples an answer to the question "from where?" of the "bread for so many" in which they were soon to be involved as his servants. He himself, as the one in whose hand "the Father has given all things" (3:35; cf. 5:20ff.), knew what he would do, but would they also know the "whence"?

For the time being Philip offers his answer, as people have answered over and over, even those who ought to have known better and were to know better (cf. 4:11b, 33). He clings to the literal sense of Jesus' words: "Where are we to buy?" and tells Jesus in round figures that the whole idea is unthinkable. Even if they had at their disposal an enormous amount of money like two hundred denarii (i.e., two hundred times the amount a day laborer could earn in a day; cf. Mt. 20:2),67 even this would not be enough to furnish a mouthful of food to every person in this crowd. Nor is Philip alone in his calculations. He gets support from Andrew (with whom he is also linked in 12:21f.; 1:44),68 who, without bothering himself about imagined amounts of money, limits himself to the actual supply of bread on hand: five loaves and two (dried) fish. But what could one do with that, given so many mouths?

Although some of the details of the story correspond completely with those of the Synoptics — there, too, we read of five loaves and three fishes! — John's version is conspicuously his own. Apart from the roles he assigns to Philip and Andrew, there are in Andrew's mention of a boy69 and of barley loaves two special features that occur also in the story of the miraculous feeding in 2 Kg. 4:42ff. There "the boy"70 is Elisha's servant. In John the boy is also undoubtedly a helper or servant (of the disciples); Andrew would of course not make an inventory of what food the whole crowd had but of what they themselves had on hand (cf. Mk. 6:38). The servant's question in 2 Kg. 4:43 ("How am I to set this before a hundred men?") strongly resembles Andrew's question in John: "But what are they among so many?" Although this last point of correspondence is natural and cannot by itself be considered striking, the combination of these three links — the boy, the barley, and the question — can hardly be regarded as accidental.71 Elsewhere in the Gospel we encounter expressions that bear a striking resemblance to certain features or statements in Old Testament miracle stories; cf. Jn. 4:50 with 1 Kg. 17:23; Jn. 9:7 with 2 Kg. 5:10; Jn. 2:6 with Gn. 4:55 (and possibly Jn. 1:29 with Gn. 22:8). Some scholars go even further and also see a clear resemblance in character between Jesus' miracles and those of Elijah (and Elisha) and Moses.72 It is said that in Jesus' miracles those of the great figures of the Old Testament return, a powerful proof for his messiahship.73

Still, the direct allusions, insofar as one can speak of them, are few, and where they are most clear — as in this chapter — they are marginal. The Johannine miracle stories themselves, even where one might speak of a certain similarity in character with those of Elijah and Elisha, are, in both construction and redaction, absolutely independent over against those in 1 and 2 Kings, and the corresponding features we have noted are no more than hints for the perceptive reader. Of course this does not remove the fact that these hints are of fundamental importance, because therein emerges the salvation-historical continuity between God's work of redemption in the past and that which transpires in the coming and ministry of the Messiah —a continuity that underlies the entire Fourth Gospel. That is not to say that the christology of the Fourth Gospel bears a character derived from the Mosaic "prophet" or even from the figures of Elijah and Elisha. Elijah and Elisha are not mentioned in this connection, and one would therefore have to subsume their significance under that of Moses. And admittedly, as we learned already from 5:39ff., 45ff., Moses is cited repeatedly in the Fourth Gospel as the great "witness" to Jesus as the Christ in virtue of the "Scriptures" he represents, but not, as himself a prophet and miracle-worker, as a "model" for Jesus' messiahship. It is rather the case that he serves as the example that shows how the messianic character of Jesus' coming and work totally transcends the Old Testament framework of salvation. This is true even of the miracles performed by Moses, as will become apparent in what follows in this chapter when the bread from heaven given through Moses, in its insufficiency for life, is contrasted with the bread that Jesus, as the Son of man, gives and is (cf. vss. 27ff., 32ff., 58).

10-13 After the two disciples have thus said their piece, Jesus carries out his intent (vs. 6; vss. lOff.). At his command all must sit down. The abundant grass (in this season, cf. vs. 4) made this opportune (Mk. 6:39). Immediately, as in Luke (but unlike Matthew and Mark), the number of about five thousand men is mentioned. As a result, from the very beginning the emphasis comes to lie on the immense crowd for which Jesus prepares the meal. As host, he gives thanks and distributes the bread and the fish, then the miracle is realized in the abundance he sets before these thousands of people (cf. 10:10). The fact that this is the great vantage point from which the meal has to be viewed is clear from vss. 12 and 13. The disciples, undoubtedly already involved in the distribution (as the Synoptics explicitly report), are told to gather up not only the remnants but the surplus, the overflow74 of the meal. It then turns out that of the five barley loaves twelve baskets can be filled with the fragments that those who had eaten and were satisfied had to spare, for they were not allowed to "waste" any part of this abundance. For this practice scholars refer to the Jewish custom of gathering the fragments after a meal. This is correct and — within the context of the narrative — certainly in the sense that of the gift for which the father in the home thanks God nothing should be lost. How much less, then, of these gifts! Not as sacred miracle bread but as evidence of the power and authority with which the Father had clothed his Son. Of this reality especially the disciples, as fellow participants in the work of the Lord (cf. also 4:35ff.), and in spite of their initial inability to follow him in it, had to be witnesses, individually and collectively as the twelve. For only as they trust the fullness of God's gift in the sending of his Son could they be his disciples and continue his work in the world.

The intent of this picture of Jesus — one that is presented with so much emphasis in all four Gospels — was to make visible the great future inaugurated in Jesus' coming and work as that had been repeatedly prefigured in prophecy under the image of the host presiding over and providing an abundant meal and that had a prominent place in the parables and predictions of Jesus himself (e.g., Is. 25:6ff.; 49:9ff.; Mt. 22:1-14; Lk. 22:16, 29, 30). In this regard there is a clear resemblance between this meal and the wedding in Cana: here an abundance of bread, there an abundance of wine. But while in that revelational miracle in ch. 2 everything is still focused on the (first) disclosure of Jesus' glory and while the meal itself and the guests receive no special attention there and the disciples only fulfill the role of spectators, here the dominant motif is the great multitude for which Jesus is the host and for which his disciples, already serving as the executors of his work, are directly involved. In this respect the presentation of the miracle of the feeding of the five thousand in the Fourth Gospel forms a clear parallel to that in the Synoptics.

Still, it cannot be denied that in the dialogue and teaching in the synagogue that follow the significance of the miracle of the loaves is given a typically Johannine twist in that it is not (as in the Synoptics) the coming of the kingdom that constitutes the central theme but the identification of the miracle with Jesus himself in which everything culminates. This bread discourse in the synagogue is, in fact, the great example of this identification, for here in constantly new forms and phrases Jesus calls himself "the bread that has come down from heaven" and even refers to his own "flesh" as the bread that he will give for the life of the world (cf. vss. 32ff., 48ff., 5Iff.; see, however, the comments already on 2:10b; 4:10).

Many (both earlier and more recent) exegetes are even of the opinion that the story of the bread miracle in John was redacted under the influence of the bread discourse so that the point of the multiplication comes to lie in its reference to the Last Supper. In the exegesis below we shall consider in greater detail the sacramental interpretation of the bread discourse. Here the question is whether eucharistic tendencies are already shaping the account of the miracle of the loaves itself. According to some commentators, this is indeed the case. Brown, for example, writes at length about the "eucharistic features" that mark the miracle story itself, finding them in the first place in that which the Synoptic and the Johannine accounts of the multiplication have in common with the reports of the institution of the Lord's Supper, where Jesus also takes the bread, pronounces the blessing or thanksgiving, and breaks and distributes the bread.75 Scholars also appeal in this regard to the eucharistic prayer in the Didache, in which God is petitioned that "as this fragmented bread was scattered on the mountains [like grain] but was gathered up [synagein] ... so let the church be gathered up from the four corners of the earth into your kingdom."76

But these arguments are not very persuasive. All that the reports of the institution of the Lord's Supper and of the multiplication of loaves have in common is what, according to Jewish custom, every father or host did at the beginning of a meal. This qualifies both the feeding miracle and Jesus' last meeting with his disciples as meals, and it is not at all obvious why the (naturally) close agreement in the description of Jesus' action as host at both occasions should impart "eucharistic features" to the miracle of the multiplication. The great theme of the miracle story is the eschatological abundance that Jesus supplies and the messianic authority given him by the Father. It is true that in the course of the subsequent discourse Jesus will increasingly relate the significance of the bread to himself and (in 6:5Iff.) arrive at the pronouncement that the bread he will give "for the life of the world" is his "flesh." But this symbolic interpretation in the bread discourse does not allow us to project it back into the redaction of the miracle story, thus making the entire account into an allegorical presentation of the Last Supper. It is even disputed whether in the bread discourse itself Jesus, in speaking of eating the bread descended from heaven (explicated as his flesh), refers to the eating of the communion bread and not to the believing appropriation of his self-offering in death.77 And there is no more sign of or allusion to such sacramental eating in the redaction of the bread miracle in John than in the Synoptics. The remarkable fact is that John, though his interpretation of the bread given and presented by Jesus goes beyond that of the Synoptics and is very much his own, leaves the general eschatological character of the traditional story intact.

Nor, in my opinion, can the appeal to Didache 9:4 detract from this. In the Didache the image of the harvest gathered from all the mountains dominates everything; in John 6 the dominant image is that of the plentiful meal. Therefore, in John the "gathered" bread is not an image of the church gathered from the four corners of the earth, as in the prayer in the Didache, but of the abundant gift of God in Christ of which the church, in this case the disciples called by Jesus, is the witness and of which they may not let anything "perish." To project the former into the latter is a contamination of heterogeneous matters.

14,15 The first reaction of "the people" shows that they, too, understand this miracle of the loaves in an "eschatological" sense, namely as the evidence of the expected coming into the world of "the prophet" (see the comments on 1:19; cf. 7:40). Many interpreterstake "the prophet" tobe the prophet promised by Moses in Dt. 18:15: "a prophet like me." Moses was known as the great miracle worker (e.g., Dt. 34:10, 11), as was Elijah, and Jesus' miracles evoked the thought of the coming of the Mosaic prophet (as of Elijah; cf. Mk. 6:14ff. par.; 8:27ff. par.). What is remarkable is that in the present passage the coming of "the" prophet is apparently associated with the royal function (cf. vs. 15) generally attributed to the Messiah as the one who would restore the Davidic kingship, but who, in the pertinent Jewish literature, did not act as miracle worker (see, however, the comments on 7:31).78 Some interpreters therefore believe that the reference here cannot be to the prophet of Deuteronomy 18 because the latter is not said to be a king; others think, however, that in Jewish (and Samaritan) future expectation the Mosaic "prophet" does exhibit royal features and that in vs. 15, therefore, the reference is not to the Messiah.79 It is questionable, however, whether in Jewish future expectation, which is not always transparent to us, one can make such sharp distinctions among the functions of the figures expected in the messianic age. In this connection John does clearly make a distinction between "the prophet" and "the Messiah" (1:21; 7:40, 41); from the Messiah, however, miracles were also expected (see comments on 7:31; cf. also Mt. 24:24; Mk. 13:22) and there are clear associations throughout the New Testament between messiahship and prophecy.80 It is clear that John the Evangelist does not aim to characterize or define Jesus' messiahship from the perspective of specific Jewish expectations. However much scholars think they can illumine the connection between prophet and king in vss. 14 and 15 from Jewish expectations, it is presumably well established, first, that, in connection with the kingship of Jesus as the Christ, the Evangelist takes his starting point in the promised messianic (Davidic) king (cf. 1:49; 12:13ff; 20:31), and, second, that on the basis of Jesus' self-revelation the Evangelist redefines this kingship in a way that transcends all existing expectations (cf. 1:50, 51; 20:31: Son of man and Son of God; see also the comments on vs. 27). This is also evident from how, in the present context, Jesus withdraws from what he perceives to be the intent of the multitude, namely "to make him king."

The situation here is not depicted very clearly. Are "the hills" of vs. 15 identical with those in vs. 3? Or is the idea that Jesus merely withdrew to one of the surrounding hills? And what is meant by "again"? That this was his practice (cf. Mk. 6:46)? But the intent is clear. Jesus does not give the multitude a chance to put their conceptions concerning him into effect. He rejects a priori any notion of kingship as they conceived it. And the reason is not that he wanted no part of the messianic kingship for himself (cf. 1:49; 12:13ff.) or that he objected to the application to himself of the prophecy of a prophet like Moses (cf. 1:45; 4:25, 26). But he wanted no part of kingship in the way the people understood it, something he would later describe as a "kingship of this world" (18:36). What the multitude envisioned was that they would make him king and that he would exercise a worldly kingship over them. Throughout this discussion of Jesus' true identity, even with those who were disposed on the basis of his messianic self-disclosure to accept him as the (or a) divinely sent prophet or messiah, one must undoubtedly also read the Fourth Gospel against the background of the continuing conflict over Jesus' messiahship between church and synagogue.

16-19 In his description of the miracle of "Jesus walking on the sea" (cf. Mt. 14:22; Mk. 6:45), a miracle that follows at the heels of that of the loaves, the Evangelist clearly follows his own course. In his version the disciples take the initiative (cf. Mk. 6:45). When evening falls and the time has come to return, they go down to the sea (vs. 16) and embark to go to Capernaum (vs. 17). We are not told why they go without Jesus. Jesus had earlier withdrawn from them to go to "the hills" (vs. 15) and is therefore for a time the great Absent One in the story. For now the disciples are on their own. The statement that after nightfall81 Jesus had still not come to them does not, therefore, refer to their expectation or to an arrangement between him and them but, anticipating the sequel, calls attention to the fact that now also the darkness separated them from him and he therefore had to come to them in the dark. Moreover82 (vs. 18), in the meantime, as a result of a fierce wind, the sea had become very agitated. Still, the emphasis does not come to lie so much on the disciples' predicament but on the inconceivability of Jesus' coming to them — in the darkness and over the high waves. To this vs. 19 adds the new element of distance: "the twenty-five or thirty stadia," that is, some three or four miles, about half of the width of the sea at its widest point. Then when the disciples had come thus far and found themselves in the midst of the sea, they saw coming toward them the figure of Jesus "walking" on the tumultuous sea. "Walking" (the current and literal translation of the Greek word)83 suggests the effortlessness of Jesus going over the sea. They "saw" Jesus: a "seeing" reminiscent of that of 1:14.84 That the sight frightened them is consistent with the nature of this "seeing." It is the fear that fills a person confronted with the revelation of God or the divine (cf. Lk. 1:12; 2:19) or, in general, with the supernatural (cf. Mt. 14:26), a fear that apparently also prevented the disciples from immediately recognizing Jesus in the approaching figure. For they had never learned to know him in that way and thus, in that place and horrendous situation, had not expected him at all.

20 The austere, nondramatic way in which everything is told climaxes in the simple saying of Jesus: "It is I; do not be afraid." In its literal sense this is only a self-identification intended to soothe the disciples' fear (cf. Mk. 6:50). But by saying this Jesus also describes his coming and appearance as a divine epiphany;85 and this occurs in a context — and that is where the emphasis lies in this self-revelation — that should convince them that, in virtue of the glory given him by God, no darkness was too deep, waves too high, or sea too wide for him to find them and be with them in the midst of that tumult.

21 The conclusion in vs. 21 is as succinct in form as the whole story itself. "They wanted to take him into the boat" has an indefinite air but presumably means that the disciples expressed the wish — urged him — that he should come aboard with them, as the direct and natural consequence of their recognition of Jesus and the change in their outlook. That he complied, though it is not expressed, is assumed. The concluding statement, "and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going," apparently only means that once Jesus was with them there were no further problems and they soon reached the other side of the lake. There is no explicit mention here, as in the other Gospels, of "a stilling of the storm." Some commentators see here instead a "miraculous landing."86 But this seems extremely far-fetched. What is undoubtedly meant is that as a result of Jesus' presence, they soon reached their destination. That this was due not to the fact that the sea had become level but to a new miracle seems, in the context of the entire story and of the knowledge of the tradition constantly assumed among the readers, an entirely unmotivated hypothesis (cf. also Ps. 107:29, 30).

One can, finally, inquire about the specific significance of this miracle in the whole context of ch. 6.87 The manner in which the Evangelist edited the story shows that he did not incorporate this "sequel" to the miracle of the loaves in his Gospel on purely traditional grounds. This is also evident from the fact that the multitude groped in vain for the time and manner in which he had come to Capernaum (vs. 25). We may say perhaps that in the statement "It is I" — in which the second miracle culminates — Jesus reveals himself to his disciples as wholly other than the multitude pictured him and wanted him to be. He withdrew from the crowd in order to reveal himself to the disciples. But this did not occur until there had also been a substantial change in the role of the disciples. In the miracle of the loaves they share in his glory. Then he lets them go away in a boat alone — here, in John, by withdrawing himself from them, in the Synoptics, by expressly making them go (Mt. 14:22; Mk. 6:45). Do they perhaps need to be safeguarded against an all-too-human, "worldly" conception of his kingship and their own role in it? In any case, once they have arrived on the sea they are confronted by another reality, one in which all glory departs from them; darkness and waves tower over them while the safe shore of the other side is still at a great distance. In that situation Jesus reveals himself to them in the absoluteness of his messianic power and authority. It is in this way that he wants to be known as the one sent by the Father over against all that human beings want to make of him and use him for. And it is faith in that identity to which he wants to lead his disciples, even when they might have to follow him not in the light of his glory but along other roads and under the threat of other powers.

22-25 The next segment of the story occurs on the following day. The Evangelist positions this time indication, which he often uses, at the head of this unit, although what follows in vss. 22ff. still relates to the previous day, and he does not get to the intended continuation of the events on the next day until vss. 24b and 25. The resulting incongruency in the sentence structure cannot be resolved in translation. However, the intent is not unclear.88 The people who, after the miracle, had remained on the other side noticed that the disciples had embarked without Jesus, although there was no other boat available to him (vs. 22). In the meantime (vs. 23) other boats had arrived from Tiberias, close to where the miracle had occurred. When the people (vs. 24) again ascertained for themselves that neither Jesus nor his disciples were still present, they set out for Capernaum in search of Jesus. And when they found him there a day later, they came to him with the question, "Rabbi, when did you come here?" (vs. 25). This question is the starting point for Jesus' great discourse on the true bread from heaven.

2 Reading John 26-59

26 Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, you want to be with me because I fed you, not because you understood the miraculous signs. 27 But don’t be so concerned about perishable things like food. Spend your energy seeking the eternal life that the Son of Man[f] can give you. For God the Father has given me the seal of his approval.”

28 They replied, “We want to perform God’s works, too. What should we do?”

29 Jesus told them, “This is the only work God wants from you: Believe in the one he has sent.”

30 They answered, “Show us a miraculous sign if you want us to believe in you. What can you do? 31 After all, our ancestors ate manna while they journeyed through the wilderness! The Scriptures say, ‘Moses gave them bread from heaven to eat.’[g]”

32 Jesus said, “I tell you the truth, Moses didn’t give you bread from heaven. My Father did. And now he offers you the true bread from heaven. 33 The true bread of God is the one who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.”

34 “Sir,” they said, “give us that bread every day.”

35 Jesus replied, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry again. Whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. 36 But you haven’t believed in me even though you have seen me. 37 However, those the Father has given me will come to me, and I will never reject them. 38 For I have come down from heaven to do the will of God who sent me, not to do my own will. 39 And this is the will of God, that I should not lose even one of all those he has given me, but that I should raise them up at the last day. 40 For it is my Father’s will that all who see his Son and believe in him should have eternal life. I will raise them up at the last day.”

41 Then the people[h] began to murmur in disagreement because he had said, “I am the bread that came down from heaven.” 42 They said, “Isn’t this Jesus, the son of Joseph? We know his father and mother. How can he say, ‘I came down from heaven’?”

43 But Jesus replied, “Stop complaining about what I said. 44 For no one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws them to me, and at the last day I will raise them up. 45 As it is written in the Scriptures,[i]‘They will all be taught by God.’ Everyone who listens to the Father and learns from him comes to me. 46 (Not that anyone has ever seen the Father; only I, who was sent from God, have seen him.)

47 “I tell you the truth, anyone who believes has eternal life. 48 Yes, I am the bread of life! 49 Your ancestors ate manna in the wilderness, but they all died. 50 Anyone who eats the bread from heaven, however, will never die. 51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever; and this bread, which I will offer so the world may live, is my flesh.”

52 Then the people began arguing with each other about what he meant. “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?” they asked.

53 So Jesus said again, “I tell you the truth, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you cannot have eternal life within you. 54 But anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise that person at the last day. 55 For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. 56 Anyone who eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me, and I in him. 57 I live because of the living Father who sent me; in the same way, anyone who feeds on me will live because of me. 58 I am the true bread that came down from heaven. Anyone who eats this bread will not die as your ancestors did (even though they ate the manna) but will live forever.”

59 He said these things while he was teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum.

 Basic commentary

John 6:25-59

Faith and emptiness

Jesus taught about the centrality of faith. When asked, ‘“What must we do to do the works God requires?” Jesus answered, “The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent”’ (vv.28–29).

We are called, primarily, ‘believers’, not ‘achievers’. The way we achieve is by first believing.

Jesus says, ‘I am the bread of life’ (v.35). When we are physically hungry we crave food. But as well as physical needs you have spiritual needs and a spiritual hunger. The bread Jesus is talking about is the Word made flesh, present with them as a friend. Jesus is offering us a personal, intimate, heart-to-heart relationship with him. It is the gift of his total person to each one of us.

Faith in Jesus fills the emptiness you experience and satisfies your spiritual hunger for purpose, permanence and pardon.

1. 1. Purpose: Physical bread is not enough. Material things alone do not satisfy. Money, homes, cars, success and even human relationships do not satisfy our desire for ultimate purpose in life.
      The bread that does satisfy is the ‘bread of life’. This is not a commodity that Jesus supplies. He is the gift and the giver. The words, ‘I’ or ‘me’ appear thirty-five times in this discussion. ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to mewill never go hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty’ (v.35).
      It is easy, even once you have put your faith in Jesus, to get caught up either in material things or the trappings of religion. But it is actually only a relationship with Jesus that satisfies our spiritual hunger.
      The expressions, ‘Believe in me’ (v.29), ‘Come to me’ (v.35), ‘Look to the Son’ (v.40), ‘Eat my flesh and drink my blood’ (v.53 onwards) describe living in an intimately close relationship with Jesus.

   2. Permanence: We are all going to die. Death is the great unmentionable reality. Jesus says this life is not the end: ‘I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats of this bread will live forever... I will raise them up on the last day’ (vv.51,54). Jesus promises to raise you up at the last day and that you will live forever. You can have absolute assurance that your relationship with Jesus will outlast death.
      There is both a present and a future dimension to this eternal life. They said, ‘From now on give us this bread’ (v.34). Jesus says it can be received immediately (v.35 onwards). Yet he also made clear that it will last forever (vv.50–51)

   3. Pardon: Forgiveness is actually our greatest need. The atheist philosopher, Marghanita Laski, said, ‘What I envy most about you Christians is your forgiveness. I have no one to forgive me.’ We all want to know that we are pardoned for all that we have done wrong.

Jesus said, ‘This bread is my flesh, which I give for the life of the world’ (v.51). His blood was shed for the forgiveness of sins. Every time you receive communion, you are reminded that Jesus gave his life so that you could be forgiven.

How do you receive this bread? Jesus says, ‘I tell you the truth, whoever believes has everlasting life. I am the bread of life’ (vv.47–48). While there is no separate account of Jesus’ institution of Holy Communion in John’s Gospel, here we see Jesus’ teaching on communion set in the context of faith.

Among other things, communion is a visible sign that helps us receive Christ by faith (vv.53–58). It reveals and nourishes the friendship Jesus wants to have with you. It is a gift of his love and a sign of his desire to dwell in you all the time.

Lord, thank you that through faith in you I have found a lasting purpose in my life, forgiveness for my sins and the promise of eternal life. Help me today to walk in a close, intimate relationship with you.

 Advanced commentary

6:26-59

Bread from Heaven, the Synagogue at Capernaum

This lengthy discourse — which can also be called a didactic dialogue — in the synagogue at Capernaum (vs. 59) is one of the most controversial topics in the study of the Fourth Gospel, not only in commentaries but also in a multitude of monographs.89 The questions most at issue are the "sacramental" character of the discourse (see above on the bread miracle), the unity of vss. 26-58 in the text transmitted, and, therewith, the composition and division of the material. One commentator has been said of chapter 6 that it "has such a clear internal unity and self-consistency, it is so well balanced and articulated, that it ranks as one of the finest products of John's pen,"90 but others are convinced of the opposite. Here again91 it is especially Bultmann who believes that almost everything is lacking to this unity. He himself attempts to reorder a "disordered" text and considers vss. 5 lb-58 so contradictory of what precedes that he regards these verses as an addition by a later "churchly" redactor.92

However, as has been remarked, such an approach to the text, which was in vogue with some commentators for a long time and carried to its limit in Bultmann's commentary, is finding less and less acceptance. Not only are the results of these reconstructions usually no less problematic than the difficulties they are intended to resolve,93 but the insight is growing that the author of this Gospel must have moved along very different conceptual lines of thought than those that characterize a modern, systematically constructed discourse.

More plausible, therefore, are more recent attempts to explain the construction of the "teaching" in the synagogue at Capernaum in the light of Jewish liturgical or homiletical models said to be governed by a similar structure. Some interpreters, proceeding on the basis of vss. 4 and 59, have attempted to posit a direct link between Jesus' discourse and the Passover94 or selected Passover.95 The attempt is made to show that during Passover, when the history of the exodus is central, the eating of manna in the wilderness was given special attention. Accordingly, the miracle of the loaves is said to have been very closely tied in with the eating of the manna. In that connection the construction of Jesus' discourse in the synagogue is said to have been reminiscent, in more than one respect, of the Passover haggadah — for example, in the questions that the multitude directs to Jesus (vss. 28, 30f., 41f., 52), which are said to correspond with the sort of questions that were raised with respect to the meaning of the meal during the Passover celebration by four children.96

This view has not found much acceptance, however. For however attractive it may seem, at first blush, to forge a connection between, on the one hand, Passover (6:4) as the celebration of the great salvation event of the exodus from Egypt and the associated miracle of manna and, on the other, the miracle of the loaves as a portrayal of the messianic time of salvation, it is quite another matter whether these connections can be persuasively shown to exist in the miracle story itself and in the subsequent discourse in the synagogue. That which is supposed to serve as proof is too general and forced — like the questions asked by the four children, which are supposed to be "parallels" — to serve as the interpretive key to the construction of John 6.

More deserving of credit in this respect is the view — initiated by P. Borgen97 and adopted by others98 — that ch. 6 contains evidence of a certain homiletic "model" or "pattern" of Scripture exposition that one also encounters in the writings of Philo and in later rabbinic literature. These scholars have in mind specifically a form of midrash in which, from a given statement in Scripture (usually from the Pentateuch), individual words are taken as starting point for an extensive paraphrase ending in a summary conclusion. In the course of such a teaching a fitting saying from another part of Scripture is then usually taken to support the argumentation. This pattern is said to be present in the discourse here, and vs. 31 is taken to be the central text, later supported by the quotation from Isaiah in vs. 45. The quotation in vs. 31, the words "bread" and "from heaven" in particular, is said to be explained in vss. 32-48, while the "eating" of the bread comes up first in vss. 49-51 and again after the question in vs. 52, thus demonstrating the original unity of vss. 52-58 with what comes before.

The general importance of these studies seems to lie in the fact that, for the evaluation of the structure and construction of (not always transparent) units like the bread discourse in John 6, they uncover broader criteria than those that have usually been applied by literary criticism with a strictly "Western" orientation. And this is all the more true when the intent of scholars is not strictly to evaluate the construction of the text by a fixed pattern of midrash, but to make visible, in a more general sense, contemporary backgrounds of homiletical or expository forms.99 In particular, this approach to the discourse here has the merit that, for the mode of argumentation followed there, it can point to clear features of correspondence in contemporary Jewish literature100 and that it can advance forceful arguments for the unity of the discourse, in particular that vss. 51c-58 belong integrally to what comes before.

Another matter, however, is whether one can go so far as to qualify vss. 31-58 as a running paraphrase — constructed in the manner of a midrash — of the citation in vs. 31. It has been correctly remarked by others that one cannot really consider John 6 a coherent discourse or didactic address, since it is repeatedly interrupted by questions and objections from the hearers. In the light of vs. 59 it should rather be referred to as a didactic dialogue.101 This distinction not only has formal value but also and especially material significance because the construction of the whole is thus seen to be clearly shaped not only by the citation in vs. 31 but no less by the repeated interjections of Jesus' hearers. The result is that one can certainly not say (with Borgen) that the discourse is composed of two parts, of which the first (vss. 32-48) paraphrases "bread from heaven" and "give" and the second (vss. 49-58) "eat." Borgen thus isolates vss. 26-30 from the discourse proper, whereas they are organically bound up with it (note the links between vss. 30 and 31 and vss. 27 and 28). But it is of no less importance that in vss. 3Iff. Jesus, because he responds each time to questions and objections from his hearers, deviates, as it were, from "the text" and pursues a line of thought that one can hardly describe as a paraphrase of the text. This happens specifically in vss. 36ff., where, before picking up in vs. 47 the thread of vs. 35, he first reacts at great length to the unbelief of his hearers, and "bread from heaven" is no longer the dominant motif in this section (cf. vss. 37ff., 44ff.). This is not to say that these verses break up the unity of the discourse, for the connection with what precedes is still clearly evident (indirectly, e.g., in "come down from heaven" in vs. 38; very directly in vss. 41ff.). But this does, to my mind, constitute a clear hindrance to bringing the entire discourse (beginning in vs. 26) about the bread from heaven that Jesus gives and is, under the heading of a homily or midrash on the citation in vs. 31. Therefore, the division of the whole cannot be derived from the sequence of the terms in the citation in vs. 31 but needs to be seen as also determined by the course of the dialogue between Jesus and his hearers. With others,102 therefore, I opt for a division in which vss. 26ff. are seen as integrated into the whole of the dialogue and vss. 36-46, though taken as an integral part of the text, nevertheless occupy a place of their own as an intermezzo between vss. 26-35 and vss. 48-58. Briefly, then, the passage can be outlined as follows:

a. Verses 26-35: "I am the bread of life. " On the basis of the question in vs. 25, Jesus begins to speak of the food that does not perish. In the resulting dialogue, the appeal to Moses and to the bread from heaven that Moses gave the people to eat acquires an important thematic significance. This leads to Jesus' pronouncement — a provisional high point in the discourse: "I am the bread of life."

b. Verses 36-47: God's saving will is realized in people coming to Jesus. Over against the unbelief of those who desire the heavenly bread but do not believe in Jesus himself as the one sent from heaven, Jesus — before again picking up in vs. 47 the theme of vs. 35 — maintains that his mission is the fulfillment of God's saving will with regard to those whom the Father has given him. For this he specifically appeals to the words "And they will all be taught by God" (Isaiah 54).

c. Verses 48-58: "The bread that I will give is my flesh. " Vs. 48 again takes up the pronouncement of vs. 35a and explicates why and in what respect Jesus, in distinction from the bread in the wilderness, is the bread of life. He is because he gives his flesh for the life of the world. Despite the paradoxical and offensive character of this utterance (vs. 52), his flesh is truly food and his blood truly drink, and only they who eat his flesh and drink his blood have eternal life. Vs. 58 summarizes and concludes.

6:26-35

"I Am the Bread of Life"

 26 The emphatic pronouncement in vs. 26, which functions as a new beginning, above all echoes what happened the day before and the reaction of the people. Jesus' statement is not a real answer to their question in vs. 25. With that question they touched on the secret of Jesus' identity — the miraculous way he had come across the lake! — but without realizing it. Still their question evinces more than mere curiosity. Implied in it is puzzlement over his conduct: Why had he withdrawn himself from them? Why had he left them in a state of uncertainty so that they had to go out in search of him?

Jesus' answer is striking in its utter negativity.103 It is also striking that he charges the people that they do not seek him because they had seen the signs, even though it was seeing the sign that led them to say, "This is indeed the prophet" (vs. 14). This fact, as also their request for a sign in vs. 30, has occasioned the question whether the situation of the miracle story and that of the subsequent dialogue are really in sync and whether the Evangelist has not brought together here materials that do not belong together (see the Introduction above). But vs. 26 clearly echoes the preceding, not only in the second part but also in the word "signs." The point of the pronouncement consists in the charged way Jesus uses the expression "seeing signs," as distinct from its meaning in vs. 14 (cf. vs. 2; 2:23). In John the word translated "sign"104 often means no more than "miracle." Still, the word in Greek also (and as a rule) has the meaning of our word "sign." In the context of the miracle storie it then means something like: miracle as symbol, miracle with a meaning inherent in and depicted by the miracle. Accordingly, some scholars translate vs. 26 ". . . not because you have understood the signs. . . ." Still it is questionable whether in the word "sign" the symbolic significance of the bread is referred to.105 True, later in the discourse Jesus will explain the meaning of the miracle, but what is at stake here is not primarily the (noetic) act of understanding a symbolic miracle but the (visual) act of seeing the miraculous event as the authenticating sign of another heavenly reality, a sign designed to awaken in the people a corresponding "faith" (cf. vss. 29, 30, 36). However, all that they "saw" (vs. 14) and that aroused their attention and enthusiasm were the loaves that had stilled their hunger. For that reason their "seeking" of Jesus had been inspired by desire, not for the heavenly and permanent, but for the earthly and perishable. And insofar as they saw in Jesus, on the basis of the miracle he performed, "the prophet who was to come into the world" and were prepared to enthrone him as king (vss. 14 and 15), to that degree they gave proof that they had not "seen" the "sign."

27 Over against this intense focus on the food that perishes (cf. Is. 55:2; as elsewhere on earthly riches, cf. Mt. 6:19ff.), Jesus now poses as an absolute contrast — and hence in the manner of a mašāl106 — labor for the bread that endures to eternal life. The parallel with what is said in ch. 4 about living water is striking (cf. 4:9, 13ff.; see also the comments below on 6:34). In what follows what Jesus means by the food will be identified ever more closely with his person and work (vss. 35, 48, 51, 55). Here it is primarily described as "the gift of the Son of man" (cf. vs. 53), an expression that also denotes the transcendent character of the gift (see the comments on 1:51; 5:27). Although he is still speaking in the third person, it is clear that Jesus is also referring to his own powers as the one sent by the Father (cf. vs. 29), and that especially to indicate the heavenly and imperishable character of the gift at his disposal: eternal life (cf. vs. 53). The clause "for on him has God the Father set his seal" speaks of the exclusive ("on him") appointment and authorization of the Son of man as the bringer of salvation. The idea that this sealing refers to a specific event in Jesus' life, specifically to his baptism (as some interpreters think), is not likely. This Gospel never mentions Jesus' baptism. The reference is rather to the divine authorization of the Son of man as such. It is for that reason that one should zealously labor for the food that he gives and not labor merely for earthly bread (see also the comments on vs. 53).

28, 29 The people, however, do not respond to this clear reference to the Son of man, perhaps because they were not familiar with this figure (cf. 9:35, 36; 12:34). But they do understand that Jesus is urging them to seek "something higher" than what has up to this point motivated them to follow him. They therefore ask him what they must do (picking up the cue from Jesus' words) "to be doing the works of God."107

Jesus' answer (vs. 29) tersely expresses the issue at stake here as in all the conversations and encounters of the Fourth Gospel: "This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." The idea is not to elucidate the concepts "works" and "faith" in their mutual relations, as in Paul. All that is at stake here — which also governed the preceding — is that Jesus, including by means of the preceding miracle, pursues but one goal with the people: to open their eyes to the fact that in his coming and work God is in the process of addressing himself to them with his redeeming action, of introducing his kingdom, and of fulfilling his promise. In that connection the continual reference to the Son of man serves, over against all earthly and temporal patterns of expectation, to maintain the divine character and content of his messianic mission. For it is the person of the sent one and the way to which God will hold him that imparts to the food he gives its imperishable character (cf. vss. 5 Iff.). And the appropriate attitude on the part of those for whom this is intended is openness for what God gives and does, not works as a human achievement. That this "believing in him" is nevertheless called "the work of God"108 has its roots in the pronouncement in vs. 27. All the labor and effort the people are investing to remain near Jesus is vain and unprofitable — a dead work — as long as they follow him on the basis of human expectations and not on the basis of faith.

30 The answer the people give may at first sight take us completely by surprise in view of what Jesus has done the previous day. But here, too, as in vs. 26, everything depends on who uses the words "sign" and "see": Jesus or the people. What the people had "seen" as a "sign" was bread, and for that they were prepared to recognize Jesus as "the prophet" (vs. 14). But what he now claimed to be able to give them — eternal life — that they had not seen in him; and before believing that they would like to see a "sign" corresponding to the claim. Hence their answer, in which, in a somewhat parodying retort, they return the demand he made to them: "Then what sign do you do that we may see and believe you? What work do you yourself perform?"

31 Here an important shift occurs in the dialogue: from here on the discourse is dominated by the terminology of the manna miracle that occurred after the exodus from Egypt. The people bring this up to oppose Jesus' claim that he had imperishable food at his disposal and hence had a superior claim to their faith. Over against this they appeal to the great wilderness experience of their fathers, expressed in the words of Scripture: "He gave them bread from heaven to eat." The citation cannot be found in this precise version in the Old Testament; we are dealing, rather, with a combination of a number of terms that are central to this whole context (cf. Ex. 16:4 and 15).109 One can also refer to Ps. 78:23, 24, which also mentions the heavenly character of the bread that God, through Moses, gave to Israel in the wilderness ("he . . . opened the doors of heaven . . . and gave them grain from heaven. Humans ate the bread of angels").

Jesus' bread miracle was associated with the manna in the wilderness for more than one reason. It was the time of the Passover (vs. 4), the feast of the exodus. But of more importance is the connection that the people had already made (vs. 14) between Jesus and "the prophet" promised by Moses, along with the understanding in later Jewish writings of manna as a gift of the eschaton: the ancient miracle in the wilderness, it was said, would be repeated; thus the Messiah, the "second Redeemer," would do what Moses, the "first Redeemer," had done.110 We do not know how much this played a role in the dialogue described here because there is no explicit reference to it. But in the conflict over Jesus' identity and the nature of his messiahship, both during his life and later in the conflict between church and synagogue, it was inevitable that his place in the history of redemption and comparison with the great figures of the past would come up again and again. Just as the Samaritan woman asked Jesus whether he was greater than "our father Jacob," so now these Jews appeal to the heavenly bread that God, through Moses, gave the fathers to eat in the wilderness. In view of how he has spoken of the imperishable food "that endures to eternal life," does he think he is greater than Moses and able to give more than the manna, the bread from heaven, that God gave through Moses?

32 Jesus responds at length to this statement, which is intended as an objection. He begins by denying with great emphasis — with the "truly, truly" with which he regularly introduces a pronouncement relating to his mission — that it was Moses who gave Israel ("you") the bread from heaven. Then he says that it is his Father who now gives them "the true bread from heaven." The second part of this argument makes clear the meaning of the first. The issue is not "bread," not even "bread from heaven," but the "true" bread from heaven. Nor is it Jesus' intent to say that the bread Moses gave was illusory, bread only in appearance.111 For by this bread God upheld his people in the wilderness and brought it to Canaan: a revelation-event! (cf. also the comments on 4:12). Nevertheless it was not the true bread,112 in the sense in which, over against Moses, Jesus Christ is "the truth" (1:18) and in which the "true" worshipers worship the Father in Spirit and "in truth" (4:23). It was not the bread of the fulfillment, of the full revelation of God in his Son. Admittedly, this bread was also "word, deed, power, proceeding from the mouth of God" (Dt. 8:3; Mt. 4:4)113 and in that sense also bread from heaven, but it was not the Word incarnate in the Son.

33 For the true bread is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.114 At this point the words "from heaven" (describing the bread) flow together with the repeated description of the one sent by the Father as "he who descended from heaven" (the Son of man in 3:13), "he who comes from above" (3:31, etc.). He is the true bread of God because he gives life to the whole world (vs. 51; cf. 3:10). Thus he absolutely distinguishes himself from Moses (cf. the comments on 3:13), and thus the bread from heaven that Moses was able to give was not the true bread from God.

34 Evidently the Jews do not understand Jesus' indirect (third-person) self-identification.115 But they have heard of bread — descended from heaven — that gives eternal life. And again their reaction recalls that of the Samaritan woman (cf. 4:15) when they ask him to give them this bread always.116 They say it respectfully ("Lord"), not sarcastically or provocatively. Over and over, in their encounter with Jesus, the people reach a point at which they approach Jesus in terms of their pattern of expectation, groping as it were, for his secret. But what lures them is the gift of present temporal life, the resolution of the bread issue (cf. 4:15b). It is the desire to have such bread at their disposal, not faith in Jesus as the giver of God's imperishable, heavenly gift, that makes them speak thus (cf. vs. 36).

35 The discourse reaches a provisional conclusion in Jesus' answer. He now states unambiguously that he is the life-giving bread117 and thus brings the dialogue to the point — always decisive in the great contest between faith and unbelief — of not only what he teaches and does but of who he is. To that end he makes one of the many "I am" pronouncements in which his "I" is the real predicate.118 Over and over the question is what really is the bread for which a person should "labor" — the bread that does not perish — and where it comes from. Now Jesus says that he is that bread. The intent is not primarily to describe the salvation granted by Jesus (as, e.g., in 14:6), namely that aside from other things he is and gives also the bread of life, but rather that anyone — as those in vs. 34 apparently were — in search of bread that does not perish should accept Jesus. He not only grants that bread but is that bread. For that reason it is decisive whether or not (vs. 36) a person "comes to him" (a recurrent expression: cf. vss. 37, 44, and 45) and "believes in him." Then the hunger ends forever. The question of faith is decisive for the bread question and not — as the multitude thought — the reverse (Mt. 6:33).

Thirst is mentioned along with hunger here (cf. 4:14). Some interpreters think that here one should think, on the analogy of the manna, of the water from the rock, as constantly associated themes. But elsewhere, too, the stilling of hunger and the assuaging of thirst as primary needs and therefore as images of salvation and fulfillment, often go together (of. Pr. 9:5; Is. 55:Iff.). At the same time it is already clear at this point how eating Jesus' flesh as the true food and drinking his blood as the true drink have to be understood from the semantics of the bread discourse.

6:36-47

God's Saving Will Is Realized in People Coming to Jesus

Before Jesus further explicates (in vss. 48ff.) the revelation that he is the bread of life (vs. 35), he first takes a stand against those who, though they have seen him act in the fullness of his messianic power and authority, still do not believe in him. Although the actual subject of this discourse is at no time lost sight of (cf. vs. 41), these verses do nevertheless form a kind of intermezzo or interruption in the flow of the argument.119 What needs to come first is an extensive further explanation of what is called "coming to God" and faith in him (vs. 35) as the only way in which God's saving will with regard to the bread from heaven as the food that endures is realized.

Verse 36 reflects back on vs. 34, as vs. 37 does on vs. 35. The people are desirous of the bread that imparts (eternal) life, but they do not believe that Jesus is the one who gives, and is, this bread. He confronts them with this as something he has already said earlier: "you have seen me, yet do not believe." It is most natural to link this saying (a "self-quotation") with vs. 26, though there the reference is not to "seeing me" but to "seeing the signs" (in close association, however, with "seeking me"). In any case, "seeing me" materially reproduces the content of vs. 26 (cf. also vs. 40).120 Here again the ambivalence — perhaps one may say the wordplay — in the word "see" asserts itself. They have seen him act in power but not in such a way as to arrive at true insight into and the full consequence of Jesus' mission (as the Son, vs. 40) and at true faith in him.121

37 Over against that failure Jesus posits that nevertheless people who "come to him," that is, believe in him (as described in vs. 35), will not be lacking. He bases that belief on "all that the Father gives me," an expression that recurs in the Gospel and describes those who have "received" Jesus (cf. vs. 39; 10:29; 17:2ff.; 18:9) and denotes the close fellowship that exists between the Father and the Son in the fulfillment of God's saving will. The Father does not place all things into the hands of the Son at once (3:35) but accompanies the Son in the execution of his mission from step to step, as it were, ever and again bringing to the Son those who are his.122 This is even more sharply formulated in vs. 44; there the background against which "all that the Father gives me" is to be understood is further clarified (see below). In the present context, however, the emphasis is on the positive: whatever Jesus' hearers may think of him, there are others who will "come to him," namely those whom God will bring to him as his own. And if they desire the heavenly gift from him (cf. vs. 39), he will by no means reject123 the ones who thus come to him.

Verses 38-40 confirm this with a continual appeal to the "will" of him who sent Jesus. Again he describes himself as the one who descended from heaven, but now in the first person so that there can no longer be any uncertainty about what he meant when he used the third person. He now denies that, by thus speaking of himself, he is seeking the execution of his own will, that is, the exercise of his own authority (cf. 5:30b). He does not place himself in God's way, or put himself in the place of God, as a hindrance for people seeking the true bread from heaven, which is eternal life. For he came down from heaven for no other reason than to carry out the will of the Father. And this will, which is twice emphatically referred to as such in vss. 39 and 40 ("and this," "for this") and is explicated in two parallel sentences, consists precisely in the fact that "he will lose nothing" of "that which the Father gives him" (cf. vs. 37) "but raise it up at the last day." These last words return like a refrain in the following verses (vss. 39, 40, 44, and 54), not as a later addition (to offset a one-sided "realized eschatology") but to bring to full expression the heavenly, transcendent character (expressed in the title "Son of man," vss. 27, 53; cf. 3:13; 5:27ff.) of Jesus' mission. That mission is not limited to a gift that, like the manna, was only of temporal significance (cf. vs. 49). What he gives has validity that "endures unto eternal life" (vs. 27). For (vs. 40) it is the will of God in the sending of his Son that everyone who sees the Son and believes in him should have eternal life and be raised on the last day — that and nothing else. Here again "seeing" occurs in its pregnant meaning, as in vs. 26, namely as the seeing of the Son in whom the Father fulfills his saving will in its all-embracing eschatological gift for humankind and world.

41, 42 It is precisely at this point that Jesus' hearers react anew. They are now described as "the Jews," the name that John often uses for Jewish leaders and spokesmen hostile to Jesus. The idea that a historical situation other than what the passage explicitly refers to should be inferred from this title is an unnecessary hypothesis. The speakers here are obviously Galileans (vs. 42).124 when Jesus now describes himself without restraint as the one who came down from heaven, they rebel, "murmur" (cf. vs. 61), probably an allusion to what their ancestors had done in the wilderness in their unbelief toward Moses (cf. Ex. 16:2, 7ff.).125 And they do so (vs. 42) by telling each other that as Galileans they certainly knew who he was and where he came from. For was this Jesus — the man who was so emphatically talking about himself — not the son of Joseph? We find the same sort of comment in 1:45, 46 and in Mt. 13:55. The Fourth Evangelist goes his own way, but over and over we discover that he is speaking about the same Jesus and the same history as his fellow Evangelists. Still the reference to Jesus' earthly origin does not always have the same intent. In Matthew the people are astonished and wonder how someone whose background they thought they knew could exhibit so much wisdom and power. Here the situation is reversed: how could someone whom they knew as the son of Joseph say, "I have come down from heaven"? As long as people kept their attention on Jesus' earthly origins, insight into the true secret of Jesus' coming into the world — that is, faith in the descent of the Son of God, the incarnation of the Word — always suffered shipwreck, and offense at this always triumphed over astonishment (cf. Mt. 13:57). That is the message of the Gospel of John, and Jesus' answer in vss. 43ff. also concerns this issue.

43-45 Although "the Jews" do not address Jesus directly but express their displeasure and unbelief with regard to his claims to heavenly descent "among themselves" (vs. 43), he is by no means unaware of their reaction. His answer is first of all sharply negative: "Stop murmuring among yourselves!" Nor does he respond to the objection expressed in the words "Is not this ... ?" What they regard as possible or impossible by their human standards (cf. 5:43ff.) will never bring them to faith in his name or make them participants in his imperishable gift. This demonstrates the powerlessness of the natural person ("no one") to come to the salvation disclosed in Christ unless the Father who sent him "draws" that person, that is, moves him or her toward it (for this "drawing" see also 12:32 and Jr. 31:3;126 Ho. 11:14). It may seem that by this statement Jesus wants to bring out the fruitlessness of any dialogue with Jews. Some speak of a concept of predestination in John: that the Jews do not want to come to Jesus shows that they have not been drawn by God and therefore that for them salvation is not a possibility.

But as vs. 45 shows, the intent is clearly otherwise. Jesus bases the negative pronouncement of vs. 44a on a divine promise of salvation, "as it is written in the prophets,"127 namely, "They shall all be taught by God." Although not cited verbatim, the reference is apparently to the statement in Is. 54:13, where to a confused and needy Israel the promise is given that God himself will impart to them the true knowledge of salvation that they so direly lack: "All your children will be taught by the Lord," a promise also extended elsewhere with regard to a future salvation (cf. Jr. 31:33, 34) as the gift of the new covenant between God and his people by which they all come to know the Lord, "from the least of them to the greatest" (cf. 1 Th. 4:9; 1 Jn. 2:20, 27ff.). By appealing to this promise of salvation vis-à-vis Jews, Jesus there fore does not a priori exclude Jews: in the "all" of prophecy the universal character of God's redemptive will is implied.