2. The Relation between the Signs and the Discourses
THERE ARE SEVEN GREAT DISCOURSES IN JOHN, AND this exactly matches the number of the signs (i.e., provided that we include the walking on the water in 6:16–21; it is not expressly called a sign, but it seems to many that it has all the qualities of a Johannine sign). There seems no doubt that there is some connection between the signs and the discourses, though it is not easy to say exactly what it is. Many would follow Raymond E. Brown when he speaks of “the Johannine custom of having a miraculous work followed by an interpretative discourse.”1 He holds that John 1:19–12:50 is largely concerned with signs and “discourses which interpret the signs.”2 This makes for a very close connection between the signs and the discourses and means that we must turn to the discourses if we would understand what the signs mean. Such views are widespread, though not held universally. R. Schnackenburg is a notable dissentient. He thinks that some “clearly defined complexes of discourse” interrupt the flow and that they are where they are because of redactional work, while “The rest of the discourses are often loosely attached to their contexts”.3 With such sharp differences of opinion, the question is complex and will bear examination.
The first point to be determined is the number of the signs. There are only four happenings which John explicitly calls by this name: the two miracles at Cana (2:11; 4:54), the feeding of the multitude (6:14; i.e., if sēmeion is the correct reading; many MSS have the plural, but even this probably includes the feeding), and the raising of Lazarus (12:18). We should probably include the giving of sight to the blind man in John 9, for in the discussion that followed, some of the Pharisees asked, “How can a man who is a sinner do such signs?” (9:16). The term “sign” is not explicitly applied to the healing of the lame man in John 5, but most agree that it is to be regarded as a sign. There would be wide agreement on these six signs. The walking on the water is not expressly designated by this term, and the discourse that follows it is related to the feeding of the multitude that precedes it. Such considerations lead many to hold that John does not regard it as a sign. On the other hand, if Jesus walked on the water, which seems to be the meaning of the narrative, this is a miraculous happening and we should probably include it among the signs (just as we do the miracle of healing the lame man). This would lead us to a total of seven signs.
John is much more likely to speak of signs in the plural as he refers to Jesus’ deeds (e.g., 2:23; 3:2; 6:2). Each of the happenings he explicitly calls a “sign” is a miracle, and there is general agreement that John means the term to denote something miraculous.4 Some scholars, however, hold that certain nonmiraculous events are to be understood as signs, the two usually selected being the cleansing of the temple (2:14–17) and the washing of the disciples’ feet (13:1–11). Some think that the passion is to be accounted another sign, and this time the miracle of the resurrection is associated with it.5 But since John never uses the term “sign” of any of these events, it may legitimately be doubted whether he wants us to regard them as signs, at least in the sense in which he uses the term of miracles. He can use the expression “signs and wonders” (4:48), which seems to point to the miraculous element (though we should bear in mind that John never uses the word “wonder” [teras] by itself; the miraculous as such is of little interest to him; what concerns him is the miraculous that points to something beyond itself).
If we understand the term “sign”, then, to mean a miraculous happening that points to some spiritual truth, there are seven signs in the body of the Gospel. The miraculous catch of fish in chapter 21 would certainly qualify, except for the fact that this lies outside the public ministry of Jesus. Further, whether or not chapter 21 is from the same hand as the rest of the Gospel, it is agreed that it forms something in the nature of an appendix. If we concentrate on the public ministry of Jesus as this Gospel records it, there are seven signs.
There are also seven discourses, taking the word “discourse” in a wide sense to include meaningful conversations with individuals as well as addresses given to groups. The coincidence in number, taken with the fact that the signs and the discourses are often adjacent, raises the question of whether the two are meant to be linked in such a way that each discourse corresponds to a sign. Each sign would in this case be given a Johannine interpretation. We must be on our guard, for John never draws attention to the number of either, and in fact never explicitly uses the number “seven.” But it would be hypercriticism to doubt that some of the signs are related to some of the discourses. Few would doubt, for example, that the feeding of the multitude is to be taken with the discourse on the bread of life or that the discourse on the light of the world is linked in some way with the giving of sight to the man born blind. The question is how far this kind of link extends. Are we to think that each of the signs is meant to be read in conjunction with a particular discourse? The answer is not obvious, but the question is worth looking into.
It is, of course, possible that more than one discourse may be used to bring out the meaning of one sign, and alternatively that more than one sign may be associated with a single discourse. C. H. Dodd works through the section of this Gospel that deals with the ministry of Jesus and find seven “episodes”, where an episode may include more than one sign and more than one discourse. His first episode, for example, goes from 2:1 to 4:42. He summarizes it in these terms: “In ii.1–10 water is replaced by wine; in ii.14–19 a new temple is foretold; the dialogue with Nicodemus in ch. iii is about new birth; the dialogue with the Samaritan woman in ch. iv contrasts both the phrear of Jacob with ‘living water’, and the ancient cults of Jerusalem and Gerizim with the worship en pneumati kai alētheiai for which the time is ripe. We may therefore best treat these two chapters as forming a single complex or episode, consisting of two sēmeia, or significant actions, and two discourses developing their significance.”6 Dodd follows this with a second episode which includes the healing of the nobleman’s son (4:46–54), the healing of the lame man by the pool of Bethesda (5:1–16), and the discourse that followed it (5:17–47).7 This time he has two healings and one discourse. Dodd argues his case with considerable learning, and in the end we must agree that what he says may well be the way we should take what John has written.8 But if the signs and the discourses are related in such a way that the discourses give us the meaning of the signs, it seems somewhat more likely that there ought to be a correlation such that each sign is interpreted by a discourse. At least we ought to examine the possibility before we accept such a scheme as that of Dodd.
We might set forth the lists of signs and discourses as follows:
Signs
Discourses
1.Water into wine (2:1–11)
1.The new birth (3:1–21)
2.Healing the nobleman’s son (4:46–54)
2.The water of life (4:1–42)
3.Healing the lame man (5:1–18)
3.The divine Son (5:19–47)
4.Feeding the multitude (6:1–15)
4.The bread of life (6:22–65)
5.Walking on the water (6:16–21)
5.The life-giving Spirit (7:1–52)
6.Sight to the man born blind (9:1–41)
6.The light of the world (8:12–59)
7.Raising of Lazarus (11:1–57)
7.The good shepherd (10:1–42)
We proceed to test the view that each of the signs is accompanied by a discourse that brings out its meaning. If there is such a correlation, the discourse may precede or follow its sign: there is no uniformity.
New Beginnings
There is quite a reasonable link between the first pair.9 The changing of water into wine is surely meant to bring out the power of Jesus to bring about new beginnings. John is showing that Jesus “changes the water of Judaism into the wine of Christianity, the water of Christlessness into the wine of the richness and the fulness of eternal life in Christ, the water of the law into the wine of the gospel.”10 There is also a forward look at the way salvation will be wrought out in the reference to Jesus’ “hour”, the hour of the cross (2:4).11 What this means for the individual in seen in chapter 3. If anyone in Judaism is right with God, it is surely Nicodemus, this “man of the Pharisees”, this “ruler of the Jews”, this “teacher of Israel” (John 3:1, 10). But he has not received the transforming power that Jesus brings, and he is told that he must be “reborn from above”, “born of water and the Spirit” (3:3, 5, 7). If the miracle and the teaching were not designed to go together, at least they fit very well. It is hard to think that John’s arrangement is accidental.
We should not overlook the little section that connects the sign with the discourse. After the story of the miracle we find the story of the cleansing of the temple. The Synoptists have a temple cleansing at the end of the ministry, and there has been a good deal of discussion as to which has placed it correctly or whether there may have been two cleansings. This is not the place to discuss these questions;12 here we are concerned rather with the meaning John saw in what Jesus did. It is noteworthy that he follows it by saying that the Jews “answered” with a question: “What sign do you show us because you do these things?” (2:18).13 They saw a challenge in what Jesus had done, and they called on him to justify his action. Jesus did so in enigmatic words: “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up” (2:19). The Jews took this to refer to a literal destruction and raising again of their beautiful building in Jerusalem, but John goes on to explain that “he said this about the temple of his body” (2:21). John is leading right on from the new life symbolized in the change of water into wine to a cleansing of the temple, the holy place at the center of Jewish life, and then to his death and resurrection. We should surely see the point that this whole Gospel emphasizes, namely that Jesus came to bring new life and that he brought it by his death and resurrection. Of itself the turning of the water into wine does not tell us how the new life comes about. This supplement tells us of the importance of Jesus’ death and resurrection.
Living Water
There is likewise a connection in the second pair, for both call attention to life. Jesus spoke to the woman at the well about the “living water” that will be in the one who drinks it “a fountain of water leaping up into life eternal” so that he will never thirst again (4:10, 14). The woman did not take Jesus seriously at first, but her question whether he was greater than Jacob who gave the well from which she was about to draw (4:12) is interesting. Clearly in including this in his story John is once more contrasting the best that Judaism could do with the life that Jesus would bring. To the woman it was unthinkable that Jesus could compare with Jacob; to John it was unthinkable that Jacob could compare with Jesus. Jesus had not come to bring a revised Judaism but to bring living water such that the spiritual thirst of whoever drinks it will be quenched once and for all. Nothing in Judaism could do this.
We should understand this against a background in Judaism that so often links water with the law. Thus we read in Sirach that “he who holds to the law will obtain wisdom”; the passage goes on to affirm that “she … will give him the water of wisdom to drink” (Sir. 15:1–3). In the Talmud we read a saying of R. Johanan speaking in the name of R. Simeon b. Yohai which explains the words “Blessed are ye that sow beside all waters …” (Isa. 32:20) as “Whoever is occupied with (the study of) the law” (Baba Kamma 17a); much more could be cited to the same effect.14 John is surely making it clear that the law, on which the Jews prided themselves so greatly, was ineffective. It could not give the life that does not end, “eternal life” which John introduces in the conversation between Jesus and the disciples. Jesus tells them that “he who reaps receives a wage and gathers fruit unto life eternal …” (4:36). The living water that Jesus gives brings life, but the law, the Torah, does not.
At a later time Jesus would refer to “rivers of living water” and explain, “This he spoke about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him would receive” (7:38–39). This thought is not developed at this point in the narrative, but we must bear it in mind as part of what John is telling us through his Gospel.
We should not miss the further point that as the conversation goes on, the woman’s sin is exposed and with it the inadequacy of the Samaritan way she has been following (4:16–18). Her attempt to bring in the rival merits of Gerizim and Jerusalem as places of worship is negated by Jesus’ pointing out that “an hour is coming when neither in this mountain nor in Jerusalem will you worship the Father” (4:21), which is followed by the information that “salvation is of the Jews” and that “true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth” (4:22, 23). All this adds up to a further emphasis on the truth that Jesus brings people life, life in the Spirit.
This is brought out in the “sign” of the nobleman’s son. When he was told of the plight of the sufferer, Jesus said to the boy’s father, “Go; your son lives” (4:50). The words of power occur twice more (vv. 51, 53), and the threefold repetition of “lives” is important.15 Some have understood the story in the sense that Jesus simply prophesied that the boy would live. Thus, for example, RSV translates, “Your son will live” (so H. J. Schonfield; cf. E. J. Goodspeed, “Your son is going to live”). But this is surely not doing justice to the Johannine method. The repetition emphasizes the truth that Jesus gives life. Barnabas Lindars finds the expression “deliberately chosen to point to the fulfilment of the promise of life already given in the discourse with the Samaritan woman. It thus carries with it the larger sense of salvation, or eternal life, which is the point of John’s insertion of this story here.”16 This seems the right way to understand what John has written. The miracle and the discourse complement one another.
The Father and the Son
The third sign is the healing of a man who had been lame for 38 years. He was lying by the pool of Bethesda in the hope that he might receive a cure from the healing waters. Again we see the water motif, with its associations of the law, the way so beloved of the Jews. And again we see that this way is ineffective, but that what the water could not do for the man Jesus did with a word.
An unusual feature of this miracle is Jesus’ introductory question, “Do you will to be made well?” (5:6), which is taken up in the discourse when Jesus says, “you do not will to come to me to have life” (5:40; there are other references to the will in vv. 21 and 35).17 Possibly the use of egeirō in both sections is significant (vv. 8, 21), though the one refers to the man’s rising up to walk and the other to God’s raising of the dead. John’s arrangement brings out significant connections. The discourse makes clear what is implied in the act.
The incident took place on a Sabbath.18 Jesus questioned the lame man about his will to be well (5:6), and commanded him to take up his bed and walk. This provoked a dispute with the Pharisees, and Jesus went on to speak of his place as the divine Son, stressing his relationship to the Father and the witness borne to him by a variety of witnesses such as John the Baptist, Jesus’ own works, and, most importantly, the heavenly Father. There may be a link between the sign and the discourse in the emphasis on power. To have spent 38 years unable to walk was to have endured unutterable hardship in a condition beyond all normal human modes of help. The discourse that stresses the power of the Son to raise the dead and to be the Judge of the entire human race (5:25–29) is accordingly very relevant.
But more important is the Sabbath motif. That the miracle was performed on the Sabbath stamped Jesus as an evildoer in the eyes of Pharisaic officialdom. The sign is Jesus’ assertion that he could do on the Sabbath things that the Pharisees could not do. His relationship to God differs from theirs. Apart from God Jesus is helpless (vv. 19, 30), so that the healing of the man must not be seen as simply a magnificent human achievement. As John relates it, it is a deed in which God set his seal on the work of his Son.19 The Jews were very interested in the Sabbath and engaged in discussions of the intent of God’s activity on that day. Obviously the whole fabric of the world would perish if God did not sustain his creation, and there were some ingenious ways of combining the thoughts that God respected the Sabbath that he had ordained and that he yet continued with his work of upholding all things. Thus Philo says, “God never leaves off making, but even as it is the property of fire to burn and of snow to chill, so it is the property of God to make: nay more so by far inasmuch as He is to all besides the source of action.” He makes a distinction between what “is apparently making” and God’s actual making; the former ceases, the latter does not.20 Another way of looking at it emerges from the Midrash Rabbah. We are told of four Rabbis challenged to explain why God commands Israel to abstain from work on the Sabbath while he himself does not do so. They asked, “Is not a man permitted to carry on the Sabbath in his own courtyard?” and pointed out that both “the higher and lower regions are the courtyard of God”, so that in his own way God is keeping the Sabbath.21 Only it is not the way earthlings keep it. Jesus is saying that he observes the Sabbath in the same way the Father does. The Jews recognized that his claim meant that he was asserting that God was his own Father, his Father in a special sense, for he was “making himself equal to God” (5:18). But Jesus did not mean this in the sense that he was a second god, a being quite separate from the Father. He says that he is quite unable to do anything apart from himself, and that what the Father does the Son does (5:19). He does not say that he does similar things, but that he does the same things.
The close relationship between the Father and the Son is fur ther brought out in the Son’s appointment to raise the dead (C. H. Dodd finds the “dominant theme” in the discourse in the words ho huios hous thelei zōopoiei,22 with which, of course, is linked his work of judgment (5:21–22). The purpose (hina) of this is that all should honor the Son as they do the Father (5:23). The discourse goes on to the theme of witness. Jesus has made some far-reaching claims, and he goes on to point out that there is adequate witness to the truth of what he has been saying.
The Bread of Life
It is scarcely necessary to labor the connection beween the feeding of the multitude and the teaching about the bread of life. The feeding of the 5,000 is the one miracle found in all four Gospels, so clearly did it make a special appeal to those in the early church. John has a few details peculiar to himself, such as Philip’s calculation to show the impossibility of feeding the people and Andrew’s action in bringing forward the boy with the loaves and fish. He alone tells us that the loaves were barley loaves. But such information is minor. Essentially John tells the same story as the other Evangelists.
We should bear in mind that bread occupied a much larger place in the diet of first-century Palestinians than it does in developed twentieth-century countries. Bread could be used to sum up food in general, as when Adam was told as he was expelled from Eden, “In the sweat of your face you shall eat bread” (Gen. 3:19). So we read that bread sustains the heart of man (Ps. 104:15), even though we are also told to remember that “man does not live by bread alone” (Deut. 8:3). In line with this, eating and drinking can be taken to indicate prosperity. “Man has no good thing under the sun but to eat, and drink, and enjoy himself” (Eccl. 8:15). Disaster can be described in these terms: “Thou hast fed them with the bread of tears” (Ps. 80:5), or with interesting imagery there may be a reference to breaking “every staff of bread” (Ps. 105:16), which NIV translates, “destroyed all their supplies of food.”
We have seen that water can be used metaphorically for the law, and the same is true of bread. It is said, for example, that the proselyte Akilas visited R. Eliezer with a question about Deuteronomy 10:18 and was referred to Genesis 28:20, Jacob’s prayer for “bread to eat” (among other things). Apparently somewhat dissatisfied, he went on to R. Joshua, who “began to comfort him with words: ‘Bread’ refers to the Torah”.23 This imagery seems to have been widespread and must be borne in mind throughout this chapter. It seems that from another point of view John is bringing out the superiority of what Jesus has done to the pursuit of the law so characteristic of Judaism.
Very important also as background to this section of John’s Gospel is the gift of the manna in Old Testament days (Exod. 16:13–36). Quite ignoring the sign that had been given them in the multiplication of a few loaves and fish to enable them to feed more than 5,000 people, the people asked Jesus, “What therefore do you do as a sign …?” and went on to say, “Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, even as it is written, ‘Bread from heaven he gave them to eat’ ” (6:30–31). It is curious that they make this demand, for surely the miracle of the loaves is much the same kind of miracle. But, of course, they could point out that Moses fed a whole nation (not a mere 5,000), and did it for 40 years (not for just one meal); Moses gave them “bread from heaven”, whereas Jesus gave no more than the kind of bread people ate every day. In any case there was a Jewish expectation that when the Messiah came the miracle of the manna would be renewed (2 Bar. 29:8; Sib. Or., Frag. 3:49), and it was evidently this for which the people looked. It was the manna that would accredit the Messiah: unless Jesus could bring the manna as of old, he would not be accepted by these people.24 But Jesus did not go along with this view, and he proceeds to explain that “the bread of God is he who (or that which) comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (6:33). They were looking in the wrong place for the bread from heaven. It was not a novel kind of manna; it was the one who came from heaven to give life, not to Israel only but “to the world”. This leads Jesus to say, “I am the bread of life; he who comes to me will certainly not hunger, and he who believes in me will certainly not thirst, ever” (6:35).
That makes it clear that it was Jesus who was the source of life, and in one way or another the claim is repeated (6:40, 48, 50, 51). That this is not always recognized arises from the fact that it is necessary for the Father to draw people before they will come (6:37, 40, 44). There is a strongly predestinarian strain in this Gospel, and it comes through in this discourse. Jesus brings life, but it is necessary for a divine work to be done in people before they will understand this. It is not a natural achievement to discern the divine in what he does. But that does not stop him from making the facts plain.
The idea of heavenly nourishment leads on to the thought that it is the flesh of Christ and his blood that forms food and drink “for the life of the world” (6:51, 53–57). Jesus indeed brings life, but the bringing of life means that he must die.25 The great saving act is seen on the cross and at the empty tomb. Jesus will bring life, indeed, but at the cost of his own death.
The miracle, then, is eloquent of Jesus’ power to supply the bread people need, and the discourse underlines Jesus’ power to supply their spiritual needs with the references to his gift of bread from heaven (vv. 31, 32), to the bread of God as coming down from heaven (vv. 33, 41, 50, 58), to Jesus as the living bread (vv. 35, 48, 51), and to Jesus’ flesh as the bread that he will give (vv. 51, 56–58). The bread symbolism is complex, but clearly Jesus is the supplier of our deepest needs. The Old Testament has many references to bread of a metaphorical character, so that Jesus is building on a rich symbolism well known to his hearers.26 But here he is going well beyond anything the Old Testament says about bread, especially when he refers to his own sacrificial death.
Jesus’ Presence
There is more of a problem with our fifth pair, and some deny outright that there is a connection beween the walking on the water and any discourse in this Gospel.27 But the matter is not simple. The sign is introduced with the information that some of the crowd who had been miraculously fed wanted to make a king out of Jesus, a complete misunderstanding of what the miraculous feeding signified. It showed that they did not know what Messiah meant. They thought that they were close to Jesus and that they were advancing his messianic purpose, whereas in all that matters they could scarcely have been farther away from him. It was different with the disciples. The miracle took place against a background of disciples toiling hard against a contrary wind and with their lives evidently in some jeopardy. It was dark, and Jesus had not come to them (6:17). Jesus seemed absent at a time of hardship and danger. But in a striking demonstration of his sovereignty over nature, Jesus came to them where they were. He had not deserted them. They had been in darkness and had not recognized what he was doing nor when his presence would be manifested. They were like the king-makers in misunderstanding, but unlike them in that they did not see Jesus in essentially worldly terms. With all their hesitations and misunderstandings and fears they were committed men. And Jesus meets the needs of such.
This is surely the point of the fifth discourse. The motif of failure to recognize Jesus28 comes through right at the beginning with the challenge of his brothers, “show yourself to the world” (7:4), a challenge which John makes clear arose from men who “did not believe in him” (7:5). The failure to recognize Jesus is emphasized throughout chapter 7 to a greater degree than we have encountered earlier in this Gospel. John is making it clear that hostility to Jesus was mounting and that there was a good deal of uncertainty about him. In Jerusalem there was uncertainty, with people “whispering” about Jesus (7:12); plainly his messiahship was not clear to people at large, and equally plainly there was danger. So people spoke softly. And when in due course Jesus appeared in the city there was astonishment at his teaching, which led him to say that his teaching was not his own but came from God (7:16). His further claim that his hearers did not keep Moses’ law because they were trying to kill him led to the accusation, “You have a demon” (7:20); again there is the thought of the hiddenness of Christ. Who and what he was, was not apparent.
At this point there is apparently a digression. Jesus refers to “one work” that he had done which had caused astonishment, and proceeds to speak about the Sabbath (7:21–23). This makes it clear that he is referring to his healing of the lame man (5:1–9), an incident in which it is important that his position on the Sabbath be understood. He does not criticize the Jews for being too strict in their Sabbath observance and suggest that they relax a little. He says that they have completely misunderstood the Sabbath. They might have learned something important if they had reflected on their ritual practice. They were in the habit of circumcising a boy on the eighth day of his life even if that fell on a Sabbath.29 This shows that some good deeds (such as circumcision) must be done on the Sabbath and opens up the way for deeds of mercy such as the one Jesus had done. He is making the point that his work of healing was done not by way of concession but of fulfilling the purpose of the Sabbath. Whereas circumcision concerns one member of the body only, Jesus had made a whole man healthy.30 The Jews did not understand the real meaning of the law that they valued so highly.
Since misconceptions about the Christ abounded, it is clear that the people in Jerusalem were not a little confused. Some wondered whether the rulers really recognized that Jesus was the Christ (7:26), but found a problem in that they knew where Jesus came from, whereas no one, they said, would know where the Christ comes from (7:27).31 There is irony here, for if they had really known where Jesus came from they would have known that he was indeed the Messiah. But they did not know, and this is part of the way John is working out Christ’s hiddenness. He goes on to say, “You will look for me, and you will not find me, and where I am, you (emphatic) cannot come” (7:34).
Then at the climax Jesus cries, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me, as the Scripture said, rivers of living water will flow from his inner being.” John explains, “This he spoke about the Spirit, whom those who believed on him would receive” (7:37–39). Jesus would in one sense be absent. But in the person of the Spirit he would be present to meet the needs of his own.32
This fifth discourse is separated from the fifth sign; quite obviously the connection between the sign and the discourse is not as plain as in the other cases. In the end the right conclusion may be that they are not meant to be linked. But it is not the only possible conclusion. It is possible to reason that John saw a connection, for what the sign signifies is much the same as what the discourse teaches. There is a unifying thread in that Jesus’ absence is no more than apparent.
The Light of the World
Our sixth pair are obviously connected. Jesus is twice said to be the light of the world (8:12; 9:5), where the first reference introduces the discourse in which Jesus explains how people are in the darkness of sin and of bondage to the evil one, while the second initiates the story of the miracle in which Jesus sets a man free from his prison of darkness and brings light into his life.33 For John the coming of light necessarily means judgment on darkness, and the note of judgment is found in both (8:16, 26, 50; the thought of judgment, though not the word, is found also in vv. 21 and 24; so, too, in the miracle there is the reminder that Jesus came into the world “for judgment”, 9:39).34
The discourse is introduced with the majestic words, “I am the light of the world” (8:12). Since the Rabbis on occasion used “Light” as a designation of the Messiah,35 this may not be out of mind. Perhaps more important for what John is telling us is the fact that “I am” is in the emphatic style of deity, a form of expression that recurs, though without a predicate, in the expression “Before Abraham was, I am” (8:58). That had such an effect on Jesus’ hearers that they tried to stone him; clearly they recognized the magnitude of his claim. With respect to his being the light, we should bear in mind that elsewhere God himself can be said to be light (1 John 1:5). And Jesus claims to be light in no small parochial measure, but “the light of the world.” This is a stupendous claim. We should be in no doubt but that John is speaking in terms that make Jesus superior to all on earth. John is classing him with God, not created beings.
These words are immediately followed by a statement about what this means for the people Jesus meets: “He who follows me will certainly not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life” (8:12). “Follows me” refers to meaningful discipleship, not some superficial approval of Jesus’ teaching.36 The present participle signifies a continuing adherence. And this has consequences. The committed disciple is taken clean out of the ways of darkness; henceforth his characteristic is to enjoy “the light of life.”
Jesus divides people. There are those who prefer the comfort of their familiar darkness, and there are those who welcome the light that God gives. Those who walk in Jesus’ way are delivered from all that darkness means and are introduced into life of a very different character. But those who reject it are confirmed in their darkness. John immediately gives an example, with the Pharisees objecting to what Jesus has said on the grounds that his testimony is “not true” (8:13). It was a rabbinic axiom that “none may be believed when he testifies of himself.… None may testify of himself” (Mishnah, Ket. 2:9). So the Pharisees gave no attention to the substance of the claim. They preferred to live on the basis of an adherence to correct technicality. This enabled them to live in their comfortable darkness. They did not really want the light.
Jesus tells his opponents that they know neither him nor his Father (8:19), that they will die in their sin (8:21, 24), that they are from below, of this world (8:23). They do not have God as their Father as they claim, but the devil (8:42–44). They cannot show that Jesus has committed any sin, but they still do not believe him (8:46). They are not God’s people (8:47). This is a thoroughgoing indictment, and it is not surprising that they regard Jesus as possessed by a devil (8:48) and that in the discussion about Abraham they continue to oppose Jesus (8:52–59). But mixed in with this is the fact that many believed in him (8:30).37 Divided opinions are also found among the Pharisees after Jesus had given sight to the blind man, some saying that Jesus was a sinner and others asking how a sinner could do such signs (9:16). There is also the motif of the uncommitted in the persons of the man’s parents (9:20–23), and the interesting argument between the formerly blind man and the Pharisees.
What it all adds up to is that throughout these two chapters Jesus is thought of as the light of the world, both in his teaching and in his giving of sight to the blind. This is not universally accepted. The teaching of Jesus may be rejected, and people may refuse to receive the blind man. There are those who welcome the light and those who reject it.
Death—and Life!
The final discourse and the final sign have no obvious link. The raising of a man from the dead seems quite different from teaching about shepherds.38 But there are links, even if not those we might expect. The point of the miracle in John 11 is that Jesus is Lord of life. John narrates the story as the climax of Jesus’ public ministry. He is showing us that Jesus is stronger than death and well able to care for his people. As far as men were concerned, the position of Lazarus, who had been in the grave for four days, was hopeless. He had left the land of the living and now belonged to the domain of the dead. But when Jesus spoke the word of power, death was defeated. This corresponds to the teaching in the discourse that the good shepherd is sovereign over death. He lays down his life, it is true (10:11, 15, 17), but it is also significant that he takes it again (10:17–18). The point is emphasized, for Jesus says, “No one takes (my life) from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have authority to lay it down, and I have authority to take it again”—a statement he reinforces by adding, “This command I received from my Father” (10:18). The word “authority” comes first in each clause, which gives it emphasis (“Authority I have to lay it down, and authority I have to take it again”). Thus in both the discourse and the sign the truth is set forth emphatically that Christ has supreme authority over death, a claim that no mere man could make.
A feature of the discourse, of course, is the way it brings out the care of the good shepherd for his sheep. A paid helper will not display the same care, for his interest is in his pay, not in the sheep (10:12–13). This forms another link with the sign, for the miracle shows care for Lazarus, as do express statements (11:3, 5, 36). There is care also for Martha and Mary, though no particular emphasis is put on it. The thought of care is involved also in the truth that the shepherd “must” bring his sheep to the fold (10:16) and in the repeated statement that he gives his life for the sheep (10:11, 15, 17).
The teaching about the good shepherd emphasizes the “Lord of life” motif. Jesus is not the victim of death.39 He does not say that men will kill the good shepherd, but that he will lay down his life. He will also take it up again (10:17, 18). He says, “I have authority (or power, exousia) to lay it down, and I have authority to take it up again” (v. 18). In both the narrative and the discourse the thought is that Jesus is superior to death. He shows this in the way he calls his friend back from the realm of the dead, and also in the way he goes to his own death and rises from it.
Some of the discourses are so obviously connected with particular signs that there is no need to argue the point. But this examination has shown, I think, that even where there is no obvious connection there is nevertheless always some link. It is a question whether we should take these links as the clue to the whole, for some of them seem rather tenuous. We should not overlook them even though it is right to bear other considerations in mind.
Other Possibilities
One such consideration is that it is quite possible to see this Gospel as put together on a quite different plan. For example, J. N. Sanders holds that John has six signs, not seven, and that the number is important. Being one less than the perfect number, they lead up to the great sign of the resurrection.40 He sees the six as arranged in two groups of three, each comprising a nature miracle followed by two healings.41 He also sees chapters 7–10 together with much of chapter 12 as “a complex mosaic”, and he finds chapters 5 and 11 linked.42
Or consider R. H. Strachan. He connects the changing of the water into wine and the cleansing of the temple as “Two symbolic signs”, but he does not link a discourse with either. Then he proceeds to notice “The universal appeal of the gospel”, which he finds illustrated by variety in Christian converts, “Nicodemus the Jew, the Samaritan Woman, the Gentile Nobleman.”43 It cannot be denied that this is a possible way to link these sections. Other interesting ways of approaching the Gospel are Dodd’s seven “episodes”44 and John Marsh’s five sections of “Deed and Word” and four of “Rite and Reality”.45
I have looked at the possibility of linking a sign with a discourse. But it is also possible to link a sign with a sign. The two miracles at Cana form an excellent example. The turning of the water into wine shows that Jesus can transform and give new life, as does the healing of the nobleman’s son. Indeed, the giving of life might be linked in one way or another with all the miracles. The man lame for 38 years did not really live in any full sense until Jesus healed him, the feeding of the multitude points to “the bread of life”, walking on the water leads to the thought that Jesus’ people are never alone in life’s difficulties but that he always comes to sustain them, the “light of life” is indicated by the giving of sight to the blind, while the raising of Lazarus is obviously a gift of life.
Clearly the question of John’s method is a complicated one. The link between signs and discourses is a real one. But it is not the only one, and scholars discern a wide variety of links, as may be seen from the diverse classifications in the “Outlines” given in commentaries. What I think emerges from all this is that the Gospel must be seen as a unity with a number of threads running right through and making their appearance at a variety of points. D. Moody Smith considers this sort of thing very important: “Despite the division between the public ministry and the ministry to his disciples which occurs at the end of chapter 12, the Gospel of John manifests an overall unity of style, theme, and content that distinguishes it among NT Gospels. It portrays Jesus Christ as the only Son of God, who knows where he has come from and where he is going, i.e., that he has come from God, and through his acceptance of the cross goes to God.”46 This overall unity of theme makes it hazardous to differentiate too sharply between the parts. Thus it may be preferable to see all the parts as making their contribution to the one great theme than to try to discern too close ties between sections.47 This seems to be what John is saying when he tells us why he has written his book (20:30–31).
The Prologue introduces many of the Gospel’s themes. Whether it was an original composition of the Evangelist or not, it was what was intended to be read first in the Gospel as we have it and it sets forth themes that will be developed throughout the writing. It begins with a reference to the Logos, and though the term is not used in this Gospel outside the Prologue, the idea that in Jesus we see the divine Logos pervades everything. Very little of this Gospel is not concerned in one way or another with the truth that “the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we saw his glory” (1:14). So with life. This theme is found in the conversation with Nicodemus (or its sequel, 3:16), in that with the woman at the well (4:10–11), the healing of the nobleman’s son (4:50, 51, 53), the discourse on the divine Son (5:24, 26, etc.), that on the living bread (6:27, 33, 51, 57, etc.), that on the life-giving Spirit (7:38), on the light of the world (8:12), on the good shepherd (10:10, 28), and in the raising of Lazarus (11:25).
Similarly, we find the idea of light widespread (3:19–21; 5:35; 8:12; 9:5; 11:9–10), as is that of mission, of being sent (3:17; 4:34; 5:23–24; 6:29, 38–39; 7:16, 18; 8:16, 18; 9:4; 10:36; 11:42). The concept of witness is found not infrequently (3:11; 4:39; 5:31; 7:7; 8:13; 10:25). The importance of believing is seen in the fact that there is a reference to it in every chapter in our part of the Gospel, while God is seen as Father in every chapter except chapters 7 and 9. That God is Father is, of course, taught throughout the New Testament, but it is especially prominent in John, where patēr occurs 137 times, more than twice as often as in the book where it is used next most frequently (Matthew with 64), and where 122 of them refer to God. The word “world” recurs in 3:16–17; 4:42; 6:14, 33; 7:4, 7; 8:23; 9:5, 39; 10:36; 11:9, 27. So also glory is a theme in the Prologue, but we find it again in 2:11; 5:41; 7:18; 8:50; 9:24; 11:4, 40.
We should take seriously John’s declared aim of writing so that his readers may believe that Jesus is the Christ, God’s Son, and believing have life in his name (20:31). John is a master at hammering away at his point from a number of angles. That Jesus is the Word made flesh underlines all he writes. His great themes center on Christ; the oneness of Christ with the Father, his dependence, his functions as light of the world, as life, as truth, as the way. These and other themes may be woven into a discourse or begun in one discourse and taken up in another. They may be set forth symbolically in a sign and explained in a discourse. The sign brings out the truth that the very power of God is at work in Jesus, and the discourse makes it clear that the wisdom of God is on his lips. Any of John’s great themes may be found in several discourses and illustrated by several signs. Every sign can be linked in some way with a discourse, and such links are part of the way John carried out his plan. In John the words and the works go together.48 But basically such links stem from the fact that John is working out one consistent purpose throughout his entire Gospel. He is writing to show that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, so that people may believe and have life. Everything he writes bears on this overriding purpose. The Gospel is a unity and must be understood as such.49
1. The Gospel according to John (i–xii) (New York, 1966), p. 527.
2. Ibid., p. CXXXIX.
3. The Gospel according to St John, I (New York, 1968), p. 67.
4. But C. H. Dodd warns us that “to the evangelist a sēmeion is not, in essence, a miraculous act, but a significant act, one which, for the seeing eye and the understanding mind, symbolizes eternal realities” (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, Cambridge, 1953, p. 90). While a miracle is involved, it is the meaning on which the emphasis falls.
5. Rudolf Bultmann holds that “the resurrection appearances just like the miracles of Jesus … are reckoned among his ‘signs’ ” (Theology of the New Testament, II, London, 1955, p. 56).
6. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, p. 297.
7. Ibid., pp. 318–32.
8. R. Schnackenburg, however, gives cogent reasons why we should not follow Dodd in linking the healing of the nobleman’s son in Cana with the healing of the paralytic in Jerusalem (The Gospel according to St John, I, pp. 476–77).
9. Pace R. T. Fortna, who holds that “As they stand in the gospel, the two Cana miracles are unique in that each (a) is self-contained, having no explicit connection with its respective context …” (The Gospel of Signs, Cambridge, 1970, p. 48). He does note, however, that “in subtle and profound ways John has integrated them into his schema” (ibid., p. 48, n. 2).
10. Leon Morris, The Gospel according to John (Grand Rapids, 1971), p. 176.
11. Cf. R. H. Fuller, “The wine which Jesus gives is a symbol of the Messianic salvation, revealed throughout the ministry and supremely accomplished on the cross. It has often been maintained that the Christ of the fourth gospel is a revealer rather than a redeemer. But, as the marriage of Cana shows, the revelation is the redemptive act, the Messianic purification” (Interpreting the Miracles, London, 1963, p. 98). We may doubt whether the revelation is the redemption, but that the wine is the symbol of the messianic salvation is important. H. J. Richards finds other pointers to the passion and resurrection, namely the references to the third day, to glory, to the “hour”, and to Jesus’ mother, who is mentioned again in this Gospel only at Calvary (The Miracles of Jesus, London, 1975, pp. 31–32).
12. I have examined them in The Gospel according to John, pp. 188–91.
13. That John records a request for a sign immediately after the cleansing of the temple seems to show that he did not regard that vigorous action as a “sign” even though there are scholars who hold that we should so regard it. It is true that after the sign of the multiplication of the loaves some opponents of Jesus asked him, “What sign do you do?” (6:30), so that the consideration is not complete proof. But in chapter 6 the opponents were clearly looking for something like the manna (to which they immediately refer). There is no equivalent in chapter 2.
14. See the evidence in SBk, II, pp. 433–36. They date R. Simeon c. A.D. 150. H. Odeberg cites from a variety of Jewish sources which link the symbolism of water with the law (The Fourth Gospel, Amsterdam, 1968, pp. 155ff.).
15. John Marsh finds in this “already a reference to eternal life”, and he says, “The fact that the phrase is repeated … adds significance to it as a key theological word in the narrative” (The Gospel of St John, Harmondsworth, 1968, p. 240).
16. The Gospel of John (London, 1972), p. 204.
17. Cf. C. H. Dodd, who says that the man’s reply “is a feeble excuse. The man has not the will. The law might show the way of life; it was powerless to create the will to live” (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, p. 320).
18. R. Bultmann and others regard the Sabbath motif as a secondary addition (see Das Evangelium des Johannes, Göttingen, 1956, p. 178, n. 4). Brown, however, rejects such views, holding that the Sabbath reference is original (John, I, p. 210).
19. Fuller sees 5:17, 18b as an addition of the Evangelist which “introduces the theme of the relationship between Jesus and the Father, to be developed in the discourse which he appends in 5.19–47” (Miracles, p. 100). That is to say, as this Gospel stands, the miracle leads to the discourse, the connection being the relationship between the Father and the Son. Fuller also stresses the importance of judgment.
20. Legum Allegoriae I.5–6 (Loeb translation).
21. Exodus Rabbah 30.9 (Soncino translation).
22. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, p. 318.
23. The passage is in Genesis Rabbah 70.5. R. Eliezer is dated c. 90, so the incident is dated close to New Testament times. See further the passages listed in SBk, II, pp. 483–84.
24. Cf. G. H. C. MacGregor, “There is evidence to show that Jewish theology regarded the giving of the manna as the miracle par excellence, the non plus ultra even for the Messiah. In fact, the Rabbis taught that Messiah would prove his authority by repeating just this miracle by which, they held, Moses had proved his. ‘As was the first Redeemer,’ so ran the Midrash, ‘so shall be the final Redeemer; as the first Redeemer caused the manna to fall from heaven, even so shall the second Redeemer cause the manna to fall” (The Gospel of John, London, 1928, pp. 142–43). The passage to which MacGregor refers is Ecclesiastes Rabbah 1.9.
25. Walter Lüthi comments on the unusual character of Jesus’ kingship: he is “the King who reigns by the grace of Heaven alone. And in case anyone is still not quite sure that this is the only true King, Jesus puts it even more clearly. He Himself, who has come from the Father, will die according to the will of the Father. His death will provide the meat and drink that gives eternal life to all those who believe” (St John’s Gospel, Edinburgh and London, 1960, p. 90).
26. See the passages listed in my The Gospel according to John, p. 340.
27. Cf. Fortna, “the Johannine dialogue which follows this story has no relation to it whatever” (Gospel of Signs, p. 64). So also Fuller (Miracles, p. 102), Richards (Miracles, p. 66), C. K. Barrett (The Gospel according to St. John2, London, 1978, p. 279), and others.
28. Daniel Lamont sees part of this failure in that some of the disciples were probably involved in the attempt to make Jesus king (6:15; cf. Matt. 14:22). This sign, he thinks, brought home to them that “Jesus, though He declined an earthly crown, was yet King of nature and of life” (Studies in the Johannine Writings, London, 1956, p. 94).
29. The command is given in Leviticus 12:3, a passage which does not say what is to be done if the eighth day falls on a Sabbath. But Jewish writings are clear that the eighth day must be scrupulously observed; the command about the day overrode the command about the Sabbath (see Mishnah, Shab. 18:3; 19:1, 2; Ned. 3:11).
30. The Rabbis could recognize something of this: “If circumcision, which attaches to one only of the two hundred and forty-eight members of the human body, suspends the Sabbath, how much more shall (the saving of) the whole body suspend the Sabbath” (Talmud Yoma 85b). They used this to justify healing on the Sabbath when the patient was in danger of dying, but they refused to allow healing when death was not imminent.
31. There seem to have been different opinions. The view put forth here is supported by the dictum of R. Zera: “Three come unawares: Messiah, a found article and a scorpion” (Talmud, Sanh. 97a). But the scribes Herod consulted were able to name Bethlehem (Matt. 2:4–6), and this view is found later in this same chapter (v. 42).
32. J. T. Forestell thinks that in the miracle of the walking on the waters “the evangelist understands Jesus’ appearance as a divine presence out of the darkness of the world” (The Word of the Cross, Rome, 1974, p. 70).
33. Cf. Brown, “Just as the OT prophets accompanied their spoken word by symbolic actions which dramatized their message, so also Jesus acts out here the truth he proclaimed in viii 12, ‘I am the light of the world’ ” (The Gospel according to John, I, p. 379). Similarly, E. C. Hoskyns views chapter 9 as “a commentary in action” on the words “I am the light of the world” (The Fourth Gospel, London, 1947, p. 331).
34. Dodd stresses the note of judgment in chapter 9: “It appears then that the dominant theme of this episode is not the coming of light as such, but its effect in judgment. The fact that the coming of Christ brings light into the world is stated symbolically with the utmost brevity, and the weight is laid upon the elaborate dialogue which dramatically exhibits judgment in action” (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, p. 358).
35. John Lightfoot cites R. Biba Sangorius for the statement “Light is the name of the Messiah”, a statement the Rabbi supports from Daniel 2:22. He finds the same ascription in R. Abba Serongianus (A Commentary on the New Testament from the Talmud and Hebraica, III, Grand Rapids, 1979 reprint of 1859 edition, pp. 330–31).
36. W. Hendriksen finds an analogy with those in the wilderness who followed the pillar of light: “Those who had followed it and had not rebelled against its guidance had reached Canaan. The others had died in the desert. So it is here: the true followers not only will not walk in the darkness of moral and spiritual ignorance … but will reach the land of light” (Exposition of the Gospel according to John, II, Grand Rapids, 1954, p. 42).
37. Their faith may not have been very deep (cf. F. L. Godet, “Instead of treating these new believers as converts, He puts them immediately to the test” (Commentary on the Gospel of John, II, Grand Rapids, reprint of 1893 edition, p. 105). But at least for the time they aligned themselves with Jesus.
38. Thus Brown and Dodd both place chapter 11 in a different division of the Gospel, effectively separating the two.
39. Cf. Alf Corell, “For just as Christ the King wins his people and gathers them together through his death on the Cross, so also does Christ the good shepherd gather together his sheep by offering his life for them. This sacrifice is not an expression of weakness on the part of the shepherd, but rather of his power over life—over his own life as well as over that of his flock” (Consummatum Est, London, 1958, p. 25).
40. A Commentary on the Gospel according to St John, edited and completed by B. A. Mastin (London, 1968), p. 5.
41. Ibid., p. 156.
42. Ibid., pp. 246, 262.
43. The Fourth Gospel (London, 1955), p. 97. He goes on to see chapters 5–12 as “The conflict between the church and the world”, so his view of the connections differs from that of most.
44. The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, p. x.
45. The Gospel of St John, pp. 86–87.
46. John (Philadelphia, 1976), p. 17.
47. R. Kysar notes a tendency to see the signs as christological and as pointing to Jesus’ messiahship (The Fourth Evangelist and His Gospel, Minneapolis, 1975, pp. 226–27).
48. Cf. K. H. Rengstorf, “If the logos interprets the sēmeion, the sēmeion authenticates the logos” (TDNT, VII, p. 252). Bultmann comments that Jesus “gives the light and at the same time he is it. He gives it in that he is it, and he is it in that he gives it. The interrelation of these two ideas is decisive for the concept of revelation” (Johannes, p. 261).
49. Cf. Kysar, “Recent investigations have decisively demonstrated that each religious theme in the gospel is tied with many, if not all, of the other themes” (The Fourth Evangelist and His Gospel, p. 260). He also points to the significant fact that monographs purporting to deal with a single theme in this Gospel often end up discussing almost all the other themes (ibid., p. 273).