10:40-42 Back to the Beginning

10:40-42 Back to the Beginning

7–10

Who Is Jesus?

Starting with ch. 7, the story shifts to Judea, specifically Jerusalem. Jesus leaves Galilee and does not—at least in the account given here—return. Apparently his great discourse in ch. 6 and the separation that thereupon took place among his disciples (6:60-71) are meant to round off Jesus’ work in Galilee. True, ch. 7 does speak of a continued stay in Galilee, but we are not given any particulars. The Evangelist demonstrates how Jesus’ ministry in Galilee, which was initially welcomed with so much enthusiasm (cf. 4:45), ended in a divergence of minds. From this point on everything takes place in the center of Jewish life.

In consequence, the buildup to the Passion narrative is very different and much broader in John than in the Synoptics. Jesus’ departure from Galilee took place about the time of the Feast of Tabernacles, that is, in the fall (September-October, 7:1-2). After that the Feast of the Dedication, which fell in the winter, is mentioned (10:22). If, as is apparently intended, one draws the chronological line through to Jesus’ “last” Passover (13:1ff.), then this period in Jesus’ life covers at least half a year. It is marked by all sorts of encounters, conversations, and confrontations between Jesus and Jew, especially with leaders of the Jews, and hence gives us deeper insight into the cause and development of the growing conflict than does the Synoptic account of what took place just a few days before Jesus’ death at Jerusalem.¹

In this development chs. 7–10 have a place of their own; here the dialogue-pattern is predominant and the effective break between the Jews and Jesus comes to some kind of conclusion. The historical and local contours by and large remain vague. Not until ch. 11 is there a clear change. The events of ch. 7 occur against the background of the Feast of Tabernacles (especially vss. 37ff.). The extent to which this is still the case in chs. 8 and 9 (see the comments on 9:7) is uncertain. The dialogues in ch. 8 are best understood as the escalation of those of ch. 7 (cf. 8:12 with 7:37; 8:14 with 7:27, 28; 8:15 with 7:24; 8:21ff. with 7:33ff.). Ch. 9, the story of the man born blind, forms a new unit and clearly distinguishes itself from what precedes in that it is no longer Jesus himself but the healed man who is the partner in dialogue with “the Jews.” In the connected but antithetic parable of the good shepherd, followed by the dialogue on the Feast of Dedication (ch. 10), Jesus again speaks at length. But with that the conversations with “the Jews” are definitely coming to a close (cf. 10:31, 39). From that point Jesus withdraws himself from every contact with them (11:40, 54). Beginning with the story of the raising of Lazarus (ch. 11), we now witness the events that form the immediate prelude to Jesus’ death (11:55ff.). For that reason, in distinction from most other commentators, we assume, in marking the divisions of this Gospel, that the division between the middle and the end of the Gospel should be found, not between chs. 12 and 13, but between chs. 10 and 11.² The conclusion of ch. 10 also points in that direction. There (10:40) Jesus returns to the other side of the Jordan, to the place where John first baptized, hence to the starting point of his own ministry. Thus the circle, as it were, completes itself. There we also encounter the summarizing testimony of the many who followed him there: “Everything John said about this man was true” (10:41). Jesus had completed everything that, according to his herald (1:6ff.), could have been expected of him.

Chapters 7–10 are unlike chs. 5 and 6 in content and composition in that, with the exception of ch. 9, they can be less easily understood as coherent units and hence less easily summarized. It has been remarked that in these chapters the Evangelist brings together the major part of what he has to say in response to Jewish objections to Jesus’ messiahship.³ Many voices are heard here and all sorts of criticisms that, on the basis of current expectations with regard to the coming of the Messiah, could be advanced against Jesus.

Some scholars believe that one can discern here the voices of the many groups in and outside the later Christian community for which the Evangelist wrote, and on that basis attempt to reconstruct a picture of such groups in the period and in “the city” in which he lived.⁴ Undoubtedly this view contains the truth that in the selection and redaction of these dialogues the Evangelist especially brings to the fore that which was pivotal in the relationship between Jews and Christians in his day and that he therefore viewed the historical tradition “through the situation he and his community were living in.”⁵ But it is going too far in analysis of the material to make such a reconstruction the controlling viewpoint, using it as the hermeneutical key in exegesis.

This is so because the overall image of those who are here voicing their questions and objections, as also of their messianic expectations, is too indefinite for that purpose. One can hardly speak of genuine “discussions” between Jesus and “the people,” “some men from Jerusalem,” and others. Jesus does not justify himself by responding to all their criticisms (cf., e.g., 7:27, 36, 41, 42). He speaks rather from within his—to his hearers, incomprehensible—messianic authority. That offends them because they cannot verify his words and because he does not fit their messianic expectations. Accordingly, it is undoubtedly not the intention of the Evangelist to furnish his readers with arguments in their confrontation with Jewish criticism; but rather, positively, to bring out how from the beginning, in his unique relationship with God and his mission from the Father, Jesus was utterly different from, indeed other than, what Jews expected and desired of him—and, more generally, other than what human beings can conceive another human being to be. The figure of this Jesus rises far above all discussions about his person. He leaves that, as it were, behind him. Accordingly, it is the utterly unique significance of Jesus’ person and work and the radical choice with which he confronts his hearers that constitute the all-controlling aim of these dialogues and that at the same time, as his “hour” approaches, brings him into ever more intense conflict with the Jewish leaders.⁶

The very diverse and partly also fragmentary character of the content of these chapters has also given rise to the idea that the sequence and composition of the various parts can hardly be understood as an original whole and that they show signs of disorder, especially chs. 7 and 8 and also ch. 10. This has led to all kinds of attempts to reconstruct what the author originally had in mind.⁷ However, most interpreters have abandoned this method,⁸ especially because: these regroupings have no support in the text as handed down; the proffered reconstructions always raise new problems; the person (or persons) responsible for the redaction of the Gospel in its present form has (have) apparently regarded what we now have before us as sufficiently unified, and it is the primary task of exegesis to give a more detailed account of this unity; it is inappropriate to apply to the Gospel standards that its author probably had neither the intention nor the ability to meet;⁹ and upon closer scrutiny it frequently turns out that there are connections in the text even where interpreters have found none.

It is true that this does not solve all problems or—conversely—that we need to be critical toward attempts to illumine the inner unity of the various chapters.¹⁰ Therefore, we will adhere to the traditional chapter divisions, but will have to consider possibilities for arriving at acceptable subdivisions.

7:1-13

Jesus’ Delayed Departure for Jerusalem for the Feast of Tabernacles

1 About the transitional phrase (“after this”) there is a difference of opinion. Some scholars infer a change of locale from vs. 1a, namely from Judea (Jerusalem) to Galilee; in that case 7:1 does not link up with ch. 6, because there Jesus is already in Galilee. This is one of the arguments for reversing the order of chs. 5 and 6 (see introduction to ch. 5 above). But aside from the objections against this hypothesis mentioned earlier, it would be striking if of this new stay in Galilee we are only told that Jesus then again returned from there to Judea (vss. 2-10) and if Jesus’ brothers thought they had to urge him to do something that he had already done (in ch. 5). Furthermore, there is no reason not to take vs. 1a as a continuation of Jesus’ stay in Galilee in ch. 6, explained by the reason already given in 4:1f. (cf. vs. 44), which had become even more urgent during his stay in Jerusalem recorded in ch. 5 (5:18). Nor do we read that Jesus “withdrew” to Galilee, as we should expect if ch. 7 immediately followed ch. 5, but that he “went about in Galilee.” Also the imperfect tense in vs. 1a does not point to a change.¹¹ So one can for good reason ask whether the first words here should not be translated “also after this.” Usually scholars translate “and”; but in the usual formula for “after this” this “and” is normally lacking (cf. 2:12; 3:22; 5:1, 14; 6:1; 19:38; 2:1—probably why it is omitted here in many important manuscripts), which may suggest that an emphatic “also” is intended.

After what was reported in the preceding, namely that people turned away from him, Jesus nevertheless remained in Galilee because being in Judea was too dangerous.¹² “The Jews” are not the inhabitants of Judea here but the authorities in Jerusalem.

2 Again we read that “the feast of the Jews” is “at hand” (see comments on 2:13; 5:1; 6:4), in this case the Feast of Tabernacles. It was celebrated for seven days, from the fifteenth to the twenty-first of Tishri (September-October). Then followed an eighth day on which the feast was concluded with a holy convocation (cf. Lv. 23:34ff.; Nu. 29:35; see also the comments below on vs. 37). Originally the feast was a harvest festival celebrated with great exuberance, which became associated, specifically in connection with the daily solemn outpouring of water during this feast, with eschatological hopes (and “the wells of salvation” predicted in them; cf. Zc. 14:16ff.; Is. 12:3).¹³

3, 4 The nearness of the feast prompted Jesus’ brothers (cf. 2:12; 20:17 [?]) to urge him to go to Judea. The word translated “leave here”¹⁴ has a broader meaning than the usual word for the pilgrimage to Jerusalem (“go up”).¹⁵ This might indicate that they had in mind not just a journey for the feast but a longer stay, perhaps a change of residence from Galilee to Judea. Thus Jesus’ brothers pressure him to seek more publicity, especially among his “disciples”: “that your disciples may see the works you are doing.” “Your disciples” may mean the followers Jesus had already won in Judea (cf. 2:23ff.; 3:23; 4:1). If Jesus should permanently withdraw into Galilee, they might become estranged from him. But in what follows we do not hear of them as an existing group of adherents. It is more likely that “your disciples” has a more general meaning here (and elsewhere in the Gospel).¹⁶ In 6:60, 66 we are told that “many of his disciples” turned away from him in disappointment. It is natural that Jesus’ brothers should have in mind this disappointing—also for them—course of events and hence urge him to go to the center of the land to manifest himself there with the miracle-working power given him (“the works you are able to do”). In this connection they hold before him as a matter of common sense that certainly “no one works in secret if (at the same time) he seeks public recognition for himself.”¹⁷ By this last statement the brothers evidently mean that, as would appear from all of Jesus’ public activity, Jesus’ aim must certainly be to become known as a person and to gain a hearing. But how then could he keep his works concealed? Therefore: “If you do these things”—that they do not deny; on the contrary, it is the basis of their argument¹⁸—“then show yourself to the world!” The passage as a whole is reminiscent of the first miracle in Cana, where Jesus “manifested” his glory (2:10), “the Passover” (as here the Feast of Tabernacles) was “at hand” (2:13), Jesus had gone to Jerusalem, and his brothers are mentioned (2:12). From nearby or from some distance, they had witnessed that first great manifestation and knew what had followed in Jerusalem when Jesus had “gone public” there and had impressed people with his power (2:23ff.; cf. 4:45). Apparently it was the impact Jesus had then that they again now want to see continued.

5 But the Evangelist advances this information as proof (“for”) that Jesus’ brothers “did not believe in him.” Their attitude was like that of the people who took offense at Jesus when he, in language incomprehensible to them, began to speak of his death (6:60ff.). Hence their urging Jesus to go public, rather than being proof of cynicism with respect to Jesus’ claims (vs. 4), is evidence of regret, of “worldly” (cf. vs. 6) expectations that they still had of him and that they saw go up in flames in the retiring attitude he adopted.

6-8 Jesus’ answer speaks of “his time,” elsewhere called “his hour” (cf. 2:4; 7:30; 8:20; 13:1; 17:1). The fixing of that “time,” that is, the moment for action, is for him always related to God’s commission and plan for his life, specifically also the great hour of his death and departure from the world (cf. vs. 30; 13:1, etc.). Therefore that time must be “fulfilled” (vs. 8). That is, it must be in accord with the eschatological action of God being realized in him.

Here that determination of that “time” has to do with the rising opposition of the Jews who were threatening his life. Therein lies the difference between his time and his brothers’ time. They do not understand that difference because they do not understand the depth of the opposition to Jesus. It is not a problem for them directly, and they apparently do not take it seriously as it relates to Jesus. Therefore, “your time is always here.” They can go where they please. For (vs. 7) “the world cannot hate you.” They do not do anything that displeases the world, so they can speak optimistically about the world (vs. 4). But Jesus (“me” in the emphatic position) it hates. Awaiting Jesus in Jerusalem is not festively attired Israel prepared to meet the one sent by God, in the manner of the feast, to receive living water from the wells of salvation (Is. 12:3), but “the world,” those who, despite all their religiosity, are estranged from God, who do not recognize him for who he is because they do not recognize God (vs. 28) and therefore do not believe in Jesus, but indeed hate him. And why do they hate him? Because he does not come to them as they would have him come and as they would love to lift him up on their shoulders (cf. 6:14, 15); because he testifies of it “that its works are evil.” These last words are strongly reminiscent of 3:19, 20. They do not describe Jesus as a prophet of misfortune who has come to indict people before God on account of their corruption and immorality but as the one who in his effort to win the world brings to the light what is of God and what is of the world; and hence which works—having been done in God and directed toward him—are good, and which are “evil,” that is, done in accord with what the world itself thinks fit and with the standards it applies. It is that crisis, that disturbance of the world’s desire to be itself, that offends the world and arouses its hatred. For that reason (vs. 8) Jesus is not willing to go along with his brothers. He is not going to “this feast” with them because his hour has “not yet fully come.” It is determined by very different considerations than what makes them go up to the feast.

9, 10 “Having said this,” Jesus remained in Galilee. And not until after his brothers had gone up to the feast did he also go. But not like them. Not “publicly” or “openly” so that it was clear to everyone that he went to Jerusalem as a pilgrim, but “privately,” as someone who wanted to remain unnoticed and went his own way. He apparently did not observe the time of the feast either, since not until about the middle of the feast and after people had looked for him in vain (vs. 11) did he appear (see the comments on vs. 14). Then his time was fulfilled, the time for him to do and say that for which the Father had sent him.

There is great divergence among interpreters about the contradiction between vss. 8 and 10 if one takes the words in vs. 8 (“I am not going up to this feast”) absolutely. There is a reading (in very important textual witnesses) that has “not yet” in place of “not” here, as in vs. 6. However, this reading strongly appears to be an attempt to reconcile vs. 8 with vs. 10. Some interpret vs. 8 with a tacit restriction: “I am not going with the other pilgrims,” or assume a provisional intention that was later modified under divine inspiration. Others place all the emphasis on “this” feast, with the idea that the real feast to which Jesus would go was still to come: namely, his last Passover. Moreover, his “going up” is sometimes understood in a deeper sense: namely, of his “ascent” to the Father (cf. 20:17).¹⁹ But all these suggestions are forced and artificial. Bultmann believes that, suitable as the general idea of vss. 1-13 is as an introduction to what follows, “nevertheless the form in which the idea is expressed raises grave difficulties, for Jesus’ actions contradict his own words.”²⁰

Over against this C. H. Giblin argues in a lengthy essay that in 7:1-13 we are dealing with a fixed pattern that he describes as “Suggestion, Negative Response, and Positive Action in St. John’s Portrayal of Jesus” and that, aside from 7:10, also occurs in 2:1-11; 4:46-54; and 11:1-44. According to him, in none of these four examples of this “literary pattern” is there any inconsistency or change of mind on the part of Jesus. He cites as typical for this narrative pattern the manner in which Jesus distances himself each time from people, even from those who, by purely human standards, should be very close to him: his mother (2:1ff.), a royal official (4:46ff.), his brothers (7:1-13), and his disciples (11:1ff.). Still, Jesus consistently acts radically “on his own terms.”²¹

This undoubtedly gets to the heart of the issue. But it still does not furnish an answer to the contradiction insisted on by Bultmann: “What Jesus refuses to do and then does is simply ἀναβαίνειν—vv. 8, 10.”²² Without meaning to harmonize the irreconcilable at any price, it must still be said that the Evangelist, by combining Jesus’ ἀναβαίνειν not (as three times earlier) with “to the feast” but with “not publicly but in private,” emphasizes the “wholly other” character of this “going up” compared to what Jesus’ brothers wanted him to do and themselves did, namely as pilgrims.²³

In vss. 11-13 the situation is pictured “from the other side,” namely from Jerusalem. From this, too, it is evident that the tensions around Jesus are growing and that the entire story is increasingly dominated by Jesus’ conflict with the Jewish authorities and the outcome of that conflict. In vs. 11 “the Jews” apparently means those authorities, in distinction from “the people” (vs. 12; cf. also vs. 13). They expected Jesus at the feast and “sought” him, with hostile intentions (cf. vs. 1; 5:16, 18, etc.), among the pilgrims and inquired after him. Among “the people” as well there was much suppressed talk, “muttering,” about Jesus, in which their uncertainty and differences of opinion were clear. Some chose Jesus’ side—in a general way, by saying “he is a good man,” “he cannot be charged with anything.” Others denied this and called him “one who leads people astray” (cf. Mt. 27:63), a serious accusation by Jewish standards because it implied a violation of the true religion, whether against sound interpretation of the law²⁴ or even against monotheism itself.²⁵ But (vs. 13) no one dared to speak out either for or against him. People knew how intensely opposed the authorities were to Jesus and were afraid to become entangled in any legal action that might be taken against him.

7:14-24

Jesus Teaches in the Temple: Who Fulfills the Law?

14 That Jesus did not appear at the feast until it was halfway over, that is, on the fourth day, is to be viewed, of course, in light of his earlier refusal to go up to the feast. By going he ceased to be “private” (vs. 10; cf. vs. 26), and he even went to the temple, the great meeting place of the people. He did so, however, in a very different manner and for a very different purpose than his brothers wanted: not to manifest his miraculous power there but “to teach.” The significance of this term, used absolutely, is evident in part from the (few) other places in the Fourth Gospel where mention is made of Jesus’ teaching activity (cf. 6:59; 8:20): he thus made known to the people, on the basis of his messianic authority, the words of God, the import of his mission. But to the people such activity—and that at that location!—above all meant to exercise the office of the rabbi who in virtue of his training and ordination was authorized to teach there. And it was from that perspective that they immediately raised questions (vs. 15).

Some scholars say that already here, beginning with vs. 15, is a clear case where the original order of the material has been disturbed: vss. 15-24 should be transposed to the end of ch. 5 because their content links up closely, both historically and in content, with ch. 5 and because vs. 25 would function much better as the continuation of vs. 14 than of vss. 15ff.²⁶ This line of thought, in my opinion, immediately betrays with how little justification such radical operations are undertaken. First of all, vss. 15ff. fit very well after vs. 14, where the clause “and he taught” furnishes the theme for what follows, a theme to which, from the viewpoint of Jesus’ “boldness” (παρρησία), vss. 25ff. refer back. Admittedly, vss. 19ff. clearly reflect the story of the healing on the sabbath told in ch. 5 and also again bring up Moses, as does the conclusion of ch. 5. But everything here in ch. 7 is different from ch. 5, in regard to both the setting of the dialogue and the viewpoint from which appeal is made to Moses. In ch. 5, at a location that is not further described, Jesus addresses himself to “the Jews” who on account of violation of the sabbath and blasphemy want to kill him (cf. 5:18). Here, in ch. 7, he appears in the temple as a teacher, and, during the discussion of that fact, the people tell him that he is possessed by a demon when he mentions their intent to kill him (vs. 20). And as for the dialogue itself: whereas in ch. 5 the entire focus is on Jesus’ sonship and Moses is appealed to as a witness (5:39, 45ff.), the question here (in vss. 19ff.), in direct connection with what in vss. 15ff. is said about Jesus’ authority to teach, is, Who can most justifiably appeal to Moses as lawgiver both for their teaching and conduct—Jesus, who healed a man on the sabbath, or his adversaries, who for that reason wanted to kill him? In all these dialogues, to be sure, the one great issue is that Jesus was sent by the Father. But each time the perspective from which this issue comes up is different. A reference back to earlier dialogues is no proof of displacement of materials originally belonging together. It rather suggests the modus operandi that characterizes the Evangelist (cf., e.g., 8:14ff. with 5:31ff.; 9:5 with 8:12, etc.).²⁷

15 Jesus’ teaching produced critical amazement and bewilderment among those who heard him in the temple,²⁸ not astonishment over his knowledge (as in Lk. 4:20), but offense (cf. 3:7; 4:27; 5:28; 7:21). How could this man, who had never received the appropriate training, act as one instructed in the Scriptures?²⁹ Moreover, the fact that he chose to teach in the temple undoubtedly reinforced this mood.

16 Over against this charge of presumption—though it is not personally addressed to him—Jesus appeals to the One who sent him. His authority as teacher was not rooted in study and human learning, still less in presumption, but in being sent by God. In saying this Jesus does not disown his own responsibility, as if he did not want to answer for his own teaching, but is rejecting any notion that he was either introducing a doctrine or building an authoritative position for himself apart from the One who sent him (see the comments on 5:19-23).

17-18 With this assertion Jesus now links the demand that everyone who—as was apparently the case with his hearers—really wants to take the will of God to heart should not pose the formal question of authority but rather form a material judgment³⁰ about Jesus’ teaching, namely whether it bore the marks of being from God or was based on usurpation. For what is it that distinguishes the real emissary from the false emissary? The true one does not seek “his own glory” but that of the one who sent him (cf. 5:41, 44; 8:50, 54). By this statement Jesus is disavowing his questioners’ shallow formalistic criteria of authority (vs. 15). He forces them to make a decision with regard to the intent that shows in his words and works. Can they, and dare they, brand them as evidence that he is seeking his own glory? Or must they acknowledge that all his words and works are designed to heighten the glory of him who (in Jesus) loves and seeks out the world and calls it to repentance and faith? Those are the questions in terms of which the people have to come to a decision with regard to his mission. Everything is at stake here. For if he is truly seeking the glory of the One who sent him, then he is true and trustworthy and “there is no unrighteousness in him”; in other words, then what applies to God (Ps. 92:15) applies to Jesus, and to accept his teaching is to “set his seal to this, that God is true” (Jn. 3:33).

19 To demonstrate the propriety of his action as a teacher and the error of his hearers’ criticism, Jesus now refers back to his conflict with the Jews over the healing of the paralytic on the sabbath—a very clear example by which to illustrate and measure the difference between holding to formal authority (as the people do) and the material discernment (as Jesus requires) of what the teaching of God is. In this connection Jesus appeals to Moses himself. The question “Did not Moses give you the law?” indicates that the people did not lack insight into the true will and teaching of God and that Jesus asked them for nothing other than what Moses had already taught them. However, for all their supposed respect for and appeal to the authority of the law they were lacking in the doing: “but none of you keeps the law. Why else do you seek to kill me?”

20 With this statement, however, Jesus said something that the people not only rejected in utter astonishment but also with extreme indignation. They called him—who attributed to them such an intention—“possessed,” a very strong expression that, even if it was not intended literally (as it is in Mk. 3:22), rejected Jesus’ indictment of them as the greatest folly. Here we encounter a very different situation (as we have noted) from that of ch. 5. Whereas Jesus is obviously referring to what the leaders of the people, as he had come to know them in the conflict on the sabbath, had in mind to do against him (cf. 5:18), the people with whom he had to deal here were apparently still unaware of any wrong, either in themselves or in others (“Who is seeking to kill you?”). In vs. 25 the situation is different. There the people sought the intervention of the authorities. Some scholars have regarded that as additional proof of the disorder in which this part of the Gospel is supposed to be and an argument for transposing vss. 14-24 (see above). An interesting attempt to maintain vss. 14ff. in continuity with vss. 25ff. is the view that in the dialogue in vss. 14ff. the people were not aware that they were talking with Jesus and only gradually made that discovery.³¹ However, support for this explanation is lacking in this pericope itself. Vs. 15 seems rather to indicate that they did know with whom they were dealing. In distinction from the speakers in vs. 25 (“some of the people of Jerusalem”), the large majority of the pilgrims did not know, however, how far things had gone between the authorities and Jesus. Accordingly, their indignation over Jesus’ question “Why do you seek to kill me?” was undoubtedly not hypocritical or incomprehensible. That Jesus nevertheless made the accusation (vs. 19) again shows the degree to which he saw through the situation and how he assessed the—still unwary—crowd (cf. vs. 7). What they reject as an absurdity and proof of a demented mind, they would later, under the continuing and organized pressure of “the Jews,” not only not prevent but even help to bring about.

21-22 Jesus offers no direct reply to their question. However, the following verses do serve as a further explanation of vs. 19a: their failure actually to keep the law of Moses that they regarded so highly! To that end Jesus reminds them of “the one deed” he performed and the general perplexity and offense it has caused among them. He speaks of “one deed,” not to minimize it or to censure their narrow-mindedness with regard to just this “one instance” (of transgression) but rather to bring out clearly the basic and radical difference between him and them with regard to the law of Moses: “I need only do one deed, and all of you without exception turn against me!” This showed (vs. 22) how little they understood of the much-lauded law of Moses, and that none of them kept it; “for …,”³² and then follows the appeal to Moses’ law on circumcision.

In that connection Jesus states emphatically that Moses gave them circumcision; that is, he prescribed it as law (cf. Lv. 12:3), though he had not instituted it himself since it came from the patriarchs before Moses (cf. Gn. 17:10ff.; 21:4). This qualification is not only of “academic interest”³³ but accentuates the importance Moses attached to the ancient institution by incorporating it, unabbreviated and unconditionally, into his law. Accordingly, circumcision on the sabbath was entirely in keeping with Moses’ law.

23 If then circumcision took place on the sabbath—precisely in order not to “undo”³⁴ the law of Moses—how could they, the Jews, then be angry with Jesus because he had healed “a whole man” on the sabbath? Of paramount importance in this pronouncement is the insertion “so that the law of Moses may not be broken.” For Jesus the circumcision law did not mean that the sabbath law had to yield when the eighth day fell on a sabbath or, as it was stated in the oral Jewish tradition, that it had to be supplanted by circumcision.³⁵ It is characteristic for his approach rather that he nowhere mentions such a casuistic conflict of duties or precepts. For him circumcision on the sabbath is fulfillment of “the law of Moses” as such. Therefore Jesus does not ask the Jews to give him room (in accord with the analogy of circumcision) to consider himself free from his sabbath obligations. He reproaches them not for narrowness in their interpretation of the sabbath law but for not “keeping the law” (vs. 19), indeed with “breaking the law of Moses” (vs. 23), precisely on the point of the sabbath.³⁶

This gains even more force in view of the reasoning Jesus employs, namely from the lesser to the greater (a minori ad maius = qal wāḥômer),³⁷ contrasting, that is, (the healing of) the whole man with circumcision.³⁸ Undoubtedly the word “healing” contains an allusion to the so-called “humanitarian” purpose of the sabbath as that comes even more to the fore in the disputes over the sabbath in the Synoptics (cf. Mk. 2:27; Mt. 12:3 par.; see also Ex. 23:12; Dt. 5:14, 15). Although we have no evidence that circumcision was viewed as a “healing” act,³⁹ it had to be clear to everyone that Jesus’ act of healing the paralytic with comprehensive, life-renewing force represented a greater benefit than the merely partial operation of circumcision could ever yield. Accordingly, the conclusion could only be that if even circumcision in its limited importance had to take place on the sabbath in order not to invalidate the law of Moses, the healing of a whole man had to contribute much more to the fulfillment of this law. If the Jews were nevertheless angry at Jesus over this, that could only mean that, rather than he being a violator of the sabbath, they were opposing the law of Moses in its clear intent and robbing it of its force.

24 Jesus brings this to expression in a very general pronouncement in which the pericope reaches its summation and conclusion. He uses the verb “judge” twice and the noun “judgment” once in a short sentence: “Do not judge by appearances, but judge with righteous judgment.”⁴⁰ He thus speaks not only to those who as judges or rulers of the people are called to judge but to all who, in their conversations, discussions, and criticisms, set themselves up as judges over him. The Evangelist clearly intends this as a general warning and exhortation, including for the people he had primarily in mind as he wrote his Gospel. Judgment by what is visible, by the appearance of things, is what largely governs the attitude of the people vis-à-vis Jesus. For “the Jews” this meant that Jesus could only be regarded as a teacher who set himself up as an authority, as a violator of the sabbath, as an “undoer” of the law of Moses. If they had delved deeper, they would be interested not just in a superficial conformity with the rules that had been handed down to them but in the will of God (vs. 17), in the law of Moses in its evident intent (vss. 19, 23); then they would pass “a righteous judgment.” They would understand that he did not speak “on his own authority,” that his teaching was of God. Jesus not only asserts his authority as the one sent by God. He also wants them to test his works by the will of God revealed by God himself, by the law of Moses in terms of its own import. Thus they would see that—by healing on the sabbath—he fulfilled the sabbath law of Moses in a manner to which the law indeed pointed but that the law itself could not effectuate. What was said earlier about the temple (cf. 2:18ff.) applies here to the sabbath and will soon also prove to be true of the feast (cf. vss. 37ff.), namely that the law for it was given by Moses but the grace and truth of it came only through Jesus Christ (1:17).

7:25-39

Jesus among the Pilgrims: “Whence” and “Whither”

This section bears a somewhat fragmentary character. It contains a number of sharply profiled pronouncements that Jesus made about himself during the Feast of Tabernacles in response to the growing hostility to him among both the people of Jerusalem and the authorities there (vss. 28ff., 37ff.). It is repeatedly clear that Jesus’ public actions in no way fulfilled the messianic expectations current among the people (vss. 27, 35; see also vss. 41ff.), although others considered him trustworthy on account of his many miracles (vs. 31). In these differing, largely negative reactions interpreters have seen a reflection of later discussions about Jesus’ identity between church and synagogue (see also the introduction to 7:1ff. above). But there is no real discussion here, nor anything resembling a defense against or refutation of the objections advanced against Jesus. What stands out, rather, is the sovereign manner in which Jesus asserts himself in the temple as the one sent by the Father (vs. 28), his warning to the Pharisees to change their minds before it is too late (vss. 34ff.), and the authority with which at the end of the feast he points to himself as the one in whom the Feast of Tabernacles will be fulfilled (vss. 37ff.). All this prompts Jesus’ adversaries, who fear his influence among the people, to act against him with increasing hostility. But for the time being they are powerless, for “his hour had not yet come” (vss. 30, 32ff.).

Verses 25-27 still presuppose vs. 14 as the scene of action (cf. vs. 28) and thus form the direct continuation of vss. 15-24. In both pericopes Jesus’ authoritative conduct in the temple is the subject. But whereas in vss. 15ff. his authority to teach is in dispute, in vs. 25 it is the unconcealed nature⁴¹ of his conduct itself that arouses astonishment and offense among “some of the people of Jerusalem.” That the latter are mentioned separately, after “the people” in vs. 20, is not strange (see above). While these people—undoubtedly largely people attending the feast from outside the city—apparently relate to Jesus less suspiciously, among the inhabitants of Jerusalem were people who appear to have been privy to what was going on in relation to Jesus and for whom, therefore, this entire manifestation of Jesus in the temple (and doubtlessly specifically the manner in which he asserted his authority there vis-à-vis the people in power) was totally inexplicable. Their question (“Is not this the man whom they seek to kill? … Certainly the authorities do not really think that this is the Christ?”) brings to expression, if not real doubt whether the rulers had changed their minds about Jesus, then certainly some impatience that as members of the Sanhedrin and hence as the proper authorities they had not intervened.⁴²

The people speaking in these verses did not shrink from mentioning specifically the issue about which all Jerusalem was talking under its breath (cf. vss. 12, 13): namely, who Jesus could be and whether he was perhaps the Christ (cf. vss. 31ff., 41ff.). And they spoke all the more boldly because, whatever others might think, they themselves had no problem with Jesus’ identity. They repeatedly call Jesus “this man”—with obvious disdain. People should not expect them, the inhabitants of Jerusalem, to view him as the Messiah promised to Israel. After all, everybody (vs. 27) knew much too well “where he came from” (cf. vs. 41; 6:42). But when the Messiah came, things would be very different. No one would know where he came from; his origins would be shrouded in mystery. They are referring to the expectation that the Messiah would appear on the scene all at once (cf. Mt. 24:26; Lk. 17:23) so that no one would be able to tell what his background and origins were.⁴³

28, 29 Here again (cf. 6:43, 61, etc.), although people do not speak to him directly, Jesus intervenes—most emphatically. To describe Jesus’ action the Evangelist uses a word translated “cry out” that appears also in vs. 37 and 12:44 and refers to proclamatory, prophetic speech (cf. 1:15; Ro. 9:27). The addition “as he taught in the temple” adds all the more weight. In his reply Jesus first repeats their own words and in a sense endorses them, giving them a peculiar, somewhat tendentious, emphasis:⁴⁴ “Yes, you could say that you know me and also know where I come from.” Jesus’ appearance is not a miraculous phenomenon. People could trace his origins and knew his hometown (cf. 6:42). In that regard his appearance did not meet the specifications of their messianic theology. Still,⁴⁵ this kind of knowing does not cover everything. Even as they knew him, he had not come of his own accord. His “coming,” that is, his public appearance with authority,⁴⁶ derived its authenticity and trustworthiness from the fact that “he who sent me is true.” Him, however, they do not know and therefore all they know, or think they know, about Jesus is not real knowledge of him.

What is at stake here is not just an issue of doctrine or law or tradition within one and the same theological horizon. It is, rather, nothing less than the knowledge of God himself, namely as God really is. One can hardly speak of a dispute here, nor of a defense or apologia from the side of Jesus. Over against their not knowing God, Jesus sets himself (vs. 29) as the one who knows God. For “I come from him, and he sent me.” Nevertheless, such an appeal to God is something other than the mere assertion of God’s authority behind his words and deeds, an authority of which his hearers, as noninitiates, had no knowledge, for which reason they did not (and could not) know God’s purpose in the sending of Jesus. For in sending his Son God was in fact revealing himself to them and making himself known as he really was. Therefore Jesus’ verdict (“him you do not know”) is not just an observation that closes every prospect of further dialogue but a final and all-decisive call to them to come to the true knowledge of that God whose people they claimed to be and whom they claimed to know. It is thus a call to believe in God—but in the sense of opening themselves up to the gracious disposition that prompted God to send his Son into the world, revealing himself as he truly is.

30 Those whom Jesus thus addressed saw what he said as grounds for getting rid of him: “So they sought to arrest him.” This absoluteness of his claims was what made his conduct in the temple intolerable and made their decision to kill him as a blasphemer (cf. 5:18) irrevocable. But still it is clearly not human beings who determine his lot. For despite all their scheming they are kept from striking out at him. For all sorts of reasons not mentioned here (cf. vss. 45ff.) they could not act. But the real reason they could not was that the divinely appointed “hour,” the hour of Jesus’ suffering and death, had not yet come. His lot did not lie in human hands but was determined by the progress of God’s counsel.

Verses 31-32 provide further information on what is described in general in vs. 30. It was not only Jesus’ conduct as such but also and especially its impact on many of the people that made the authorities look for means to get rid of him. “Many of the people came to faith in him,” a faith that bore an immediate relationship to Jesus’ messiahship. These people ask whether the Christ at his appearance would do more signs than Jesus had done, obviously meaning that Jesus’ many miracles were reason enough for them to believe in him as the Messiah. The Fourth Gospel itself does not report many miracles, but this and other references to his “many miracles” (2:23; 3:1; 4:45) are indications that the Evangelist assumes that his readers know more about Jesus’ words and works than he tells of. But the statement of the people here is remarkable because Jewish messianic expectation did not especially attribute performance of miracles to the Messiah.⁴⁷ Some scholars therefore think that we are dealing here not with a Jewish but with a Christian proof of Jesus’ messiahship⁴⁸ and therefore that the Evangelist has in mind a later situation, one in which Jewish sympathizers with the Christian church are speaking.⁴⁹ However, not only here but throughout the New Testament Jesus’ miracles play an important role in the conflict over Jesus’ credibility as the divinely sent Messiah, specifically in relation to Jews and not only as an element in Christian argumentation (20:31; cf. Mt. 11:2-6 [cf. vs. 1]; 12:38; cf. also Mk. 3:22; 2 Th. 2:9) but also in regard to signs demanded over and over by the Jews themselves (cf. 6:30; 7:3; Mt. 12:28; Mk. 8:11; 1 Co. 1:22). The idea that what was ultimately at stake was not Jesus’ messiahship but whether he was “the prophet” (from whom the Jews did expect miracles) is hard to maintain in view of 6:30 (cf. vs. 27, “the Son of man”) and 1 Co. 1:22.

In any case Jesus’ miracles were of such a nature that they had to arouse in many people the hope of the time of salvation promised by God and the great reversal that was a part of it. That hope, that pro-Jesus movement among the people, was what, along with his blasphemous claims, most occupied the rulers. The Pharisees were prominent in that resistance right from the beginning (cf. 4:1) and will be mentioned frequently as such in what follows (vss. 45, 48; 8:3, 13; 9:13ff., 40, etc.). They are also the first and best informed of the covert but perceptible whispering (“muttering”) among the people about Jesus as Messiah, and those who will persuade the proper authorities—the Sanhedrin, of which together with the chief priests they are members⁵⁰—to order the officers⁵¹ to arrest Jesus. The intention to do this, long entertained (cf. vs. 30; 5:18), was now at last to be carried out.

33 The words of Jesus that now follow are clearly intended not as a reaction to vs. 31 but to vs. 32. Jesus is aware of what is happening around him, and his time is therefore short. He gives expression to his awareness in a fashion that again brings into the open the difference in understanding between him and the Jews. This time it is not his origin (vss. 27ff.) but his future (vss. 35f.) that is in discussion. The crucial point is that Jesus not only speaks of the short time (“a little longer”) he will still be with them but also announces his going “to him who sent me,” an expression the Evangelist will use from now on with regularity (8:13, 21, 22; 13:3, 33, 36; chs. 14 and 15 passim). What Jesus means by this expression is clear in the light of what he has just said about his origin, but for those who had their own self-assured knowledge (cf. vs. 27) it had to be totally puzzling.

34 This is all the more true because Jesus also predicts that this “going away” will deprive them of every possibility of ever finding him if they should look for him. For where he will be they cannot come. Jesus is of course speaking here of going to the Father, “where he was before” (6:62). He does not thereby bypass the suffering and death that await him since that is how he will go from this world to the Father (13:1). This language of departure is highly characteristic of the Gospel of John, in which Jesus, far from being a passive object in his suffering and death, is active. From this perspective one can also begin to understand what is meant by “and you will seek me.” At first sight one might think that Jesus is here speaking of becoming unfindable and therefore invulnerable to the attacks they now undertake against him (cf. vss. 11, 30). But the idea that they would “seek” him in that hostile sense after he had gone to the Father is not very natural (see, however, Ac. 9:4, 5). The idea is rather that he would be inaccessible to them when, to escape the judgment awaiting them, they would seek his help (cf. 3:36; 8:21; Pr. 1:27, 28). The idea that this refers to a concrete event such as the destruction of Jerusalem is hard to prove, and no such event is referred to in the text. It is more likely that we are dealing with a general description of Jesus’ inaccessibility as it is later predicted also to Jesus’ disciples. But whereas for the disciples this inaccessibility would only imply a temporary separation (14:1ff.; 16:16ff.), for “the Jews” it meant it would become too late to retrace their steps.

35-36 Again, as in, for example, 6:41, 52, the Jews do not respond to Jesus directly but discuss among themselves what he could have meant by this—to their minds—enigmatic pronouncement. Again they go merely by the sound of his words and entertain various possible solutions that appear absurd even to themselves, thus miring themselves in questions (vs. 36). The “diaspora of the Greeks” probably refers here to the Greek-speaking Jews in the dispersion who are, under this assumption, called “the Greeks” here (cf. 12:20; Ac. 11:20).⁵² It is often thought that, without realizing it, the Jews are thus prophesying future Christian missions among the Gentiles. What seemed to them an absurdity would prove to contain a grand truth. But in my opinion the reference here is just to diaspora Jews as a possible place of escape for Jesus. What the Evangelist wants to demonstrate is how utterly irreconcilable Jesus’ self-revelation as the Christ is with everything the Jews in Jesus’ day (and that of his own) could conceive or were inclined to accept.

In vss. 37 and 38 Jesus’ activity on the Feast of Tabernacles reaches its high point. The “last day of the feast, the great day” is probably the seventh day, on which the celebration came to a climax. Elsewhere (see the comments on vs. 2) there is also mention of an eighth day, but that was apparently more a closing day, certainly not “the great day.” Jesus’ activity here is clearly bound up with what was done as part of the feast. What gave Tabernacles its special character, aside from living in booths during the celebration of this ancient and joyful harvest festival, was the daily procession to Siloam, where water was dipped to be brought to the temple to the accompaniment of music and the recitation of texts like Is. 12:3. After the procession around the altar (repeated six times on the seventh day of the feast), the water was poured out on the altar of burnt offering in the temple. The libation of water played a particularly great role in the people’s imagination. It symbolized not only, as a harvest ritual, the hope and prayer for rain and fruitfulness (cf., e.g., Zc. 14:16, 17), but also, in connection with this, the eschatological hope of wells of salvation overflowing with abundance.⁵³

It is against this background that Jesus, at the high point of the feast, stood up (no doubt in the temple)⁵⁴ and raised his voice (see the comments on vs. 28) and thus with great emphasis and authority offered himself to everyone who was thirsty. Although the water of the feast was poured out on the altar and not drunk and there is no mention here in John of pouring out water, it is generally assumed that Jesus’ invitation to come and drink was prompted by the water ceremonies of the feast. Living, that is, running, water was the image of refreshment and revitalization, and this was symbolized by the pouring out of water during Tabernacles. Hence by inviting the thirsty to himself Jesus clearly indicated that what was sought and celebrated during the feast found its fulfillment in him. He was not only the temple (2:20ff.) but also the feast, the dispenser of refreshing and life-giving water as the great eschatological gift of God.

While this is the generally recognized meaning of Jesus’ messianic pronouncement, there is great divergence of opinion whether vs. 38a (“He who believes in me”) should be taken with what precedes or with what follows. If it is taken with what follows (so NRSV), then it is the last member of a chiastic invitation:

If anyone thirst,

let him come to me,

and let him drink,

who believes in me.

The rest of vs. 38 is in that case a pronouncement of Scripture in which such power to dispense living water is symbolically attributed to Jesus.

But some (e.g., RSV, NIV) put a period at the end of vs. 37 and thus take the first clause of vs. 38 (“he who believes in me”) as a pendent subject with the rest of the verse:⁵⁵ “If any one thirst, let him come to me and drink. He who believes in me—as the Scripture says—out of his belly will flow streams of living water.” In that case, not Jesus but the believer is the one Scripture is said to speak of.⁵⁶

This second view, in my opinion, certainly deserves preference. In the first place, the parallelism on which the first view is based is not very obvious. The supposed use of chiasm would be unique in John,⁵⁷ and “he who thirsts” is not synonymous with “he who believes in me,” which is, rather, paralleled by “come to me.” The point here is clearly a call to faith, not an invitation to people who already believe. We therefore get a much better construction—structurally as well as materially—when “the one who believes in me” is taken as the beginning of a new sentence, as often in John, and not the unemphasized conclusion (most unusual!) of a sentence. Thus in a new opening vs. 38 advances the thought of vs. 37 by articulating the salvific result of the invitation it has given with reference to Scripture. Vs. 38 refers, then, to one person: “the one who believes … out of that person’s belly.” The Scripture quotation does not refer, as proponents of the first interpretation generally assume,⁵⁸ to Jesus, a construction that not only yields an unexplained change of person but a much more difficult idea.

Admittedly, the view we are endorsing “would produce the grotesque picture of streams of water flowing out of the body of the man who is drinking to quench his thirst.”⁵⁹ But if we proceed from this degree of literalness, the idea that those invited to drink should have to drink from Jesus’ body is no less strange. The idea that there is an allusion here to 19:34⁶⁰ is intrinsically most unlikely and cannot, at any rate, illumine the image. For the idea of drinking is entirely alien to what is said there of Jesus’ “side.” Strange speculations about Jesus’ “belly” are superfluous if one explains vs. 38 on the analogy of the closely related pronouncement in 4:14, where it is said of the water that Jesus will give that the one who drinks of it will never thirst again because it “will become in that person a spring of water welling up to eternal life.” In both cases the reference is to the Spirit as a forceful and never failing source of gifts in those who believe in Jesus.⁶¹ “From his belly” in vs. 38 then has the same meaning as “in him” in 4:14, just as in Old Testament usage “belly” can refer to the inner person, as the equivalent of one’s “heart.”⁶² Whether “from his belly” refers to the effect of spiritual gifts on others seems doubtful; in any case, “from” does not cancel out the correspondence with 4:14.⁶³

What Scripture passage is meant here is hard to say within either interpretation. Nowhere can we pinpoint a text that bears any resemblance to the words quoted here.⁶⁴ Nonetheless, the words “from his belly” make it much more difficult to find support in Scripture for the first view than for the second. For wherever the Old Testament mentions “streams of salvation” that in the new age will issue from the temple or from Jerusalem, any idea that these would flow from God or the Messiah is lacking. On the other hand, where the gift of the Spirit is referred to under the image of water, the reference is to the refreshment and renewal of “the inner person” and is described, aside from Jn. 4:14, as a flowing fountain in the person (cf. Is. 58:11; Pr. 18:4). All this does not alter the fact that, just as in 4:14, Christ is the giver of the spring of living water. As such, and as bringer of salvation, he also invites everyone who thirsts to come to him (cf. Pr. 9:4; Mt. 11:28; Is. 55:1, etc.).

39 The Evangelist then proceeds to explain this as having been said with an eye to the Spirit. This makes it all the more plain that Jesus concentrates all the attention given the Feast of Tabernacles on himself. The entire ceremony of pouring out of water was taken as a picture of the grand future in which the people of God would share in abundant measure in the Spirit of God, and that future age was repeatedly represented under the image of water (cf. Is. 43:20; 44:3; Ezk. 47:1ff.; Jl. 3:18). Therefore, while in 2:19ff.; 4:23; 7:23; 1:17 Jesus acts as the one in whom the Old Testament cult finds its end and fulfillment, the Evangelist nevertheless makes a clear distinction between the time of Jesus and that of the Spirit. For that reason what Jesus promises here to those who believe in him cannot be immediately realized. “For as yet the Spirit had not been given.”

In the transmission of the text these remarkable words have been supplemented in all kinds of ways. But even without the supplements the intent is clear enough. In the nature of the case the Spirit was already in existence. But the profuse outpouring of the Spirit’s gifts still waited until Jesus was “glorified,” that is, until he had gone to the Father. The statement here in vs. 38 anticipates, therefore, that which will be treated at length in the farewell discourses (cf. 14:26; 16:7), where we read of the Paraclete, “the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name,” who will not come unless Jesus goes away; but “if I go, I will send him.”

This does not mean, of course, that Jesus will give way, basically and definitively, to the Spirit. For as is evident also from vs. 38, Jesus himself is the giver and sender of the Spirit (cf. 1:33; 4:17). Admittedly there is a direct connection between Jesus’ glorification and the sending of the Spirit. For not until Jesus is glorified can the Spirit draw the abundance mentioned here (“streams of living water”) from the fullness of Jesus’ finished work (cf. 16:13ff.). Not until then, when the Spirit will teach and proclaim it to them in the light of Jesus’ glorification, will the disciples understand what at this point they cannot bear. But that is not to say that true faith, the birth “from above” (3:2), could not be a reality before the coming of the Spirit, for it is precisely to those who already at this feast come to Jesus and believe in him that the Spirit is promised. True faith, knowing oneself bound to the person of Jesus “for better or worse,” as that comes to expression, for example, in 6:68, dates not just from the day of Jesus’ resurrection,⁶⁵ however much before that day it was exposed to great attacks (“the sifting of Satan”; cf. 16:20; Lk. 22:31, 32). Attacks will continue later as well (2 Co 12:7, 8). The abundance of the gifts of the Spirit, referred to here, therefore does not mean that the believer will be transferred from a struggling faith to a purely triumphant faith but that the believer will become a participant, by the Spirit, in the glorification of Christ, that the believer will drink from a spring whose fullness for everyone who believes will never be exhausted.⁶⁶

7:40-52

Division among the Jews, Nicodemus’s Judgment

In what follows Jesus does not speak until 8:12, and then again with a proclamatory pronouncement. 7:40-52 describes the confusion and conflict occasioned by Jesus, ending in a “schism” (vs. 43) among the people and a fierce exchange of words in the Sanhedrin. Evidently the intent is to show that, despite all the hostility and contradiction of the Jewish authorities, Jesus’ influence on the people was unstoppable, arousing strong messianic feelings. The members of the Sanhedrin, in response, took an increasingly stronger position against him, though without much success and in violation of their own law. And this passage also shows that, despite their groping for Jesus’ true identity, the people do not really come to a clear decision. They try to fit him into their traditional messianic notions and fail.

40-44 Vs. 40 ties in with the preceding words of Jesus. His powerfully proclaimed messianic utterance prompts some people (other manuscripts have “many”) to recognize him (“really,” ἀληθῶς) as “the prophet” (see comments on 1:21; 6:14). Some expositors believe that it was specifically Jesus’ utterance about “living water” that led people to identify him as “the prophet” (like Moses) in Deuteronomy 18, because this “second redeemer” was expected to do the same miracles as Moses (the “first redeemer”), namely the miraculous provision of water and bread. Others among the people (vs. 41a) are said to have gone a step further, concluding that this Mosaic prophet was the Messiah himself. A third group (vss. 41c-42) are said to have argued against this entire identification that Jesus could not possibly be the Messiah since the Messiah would be of Davidic origin and would come from Bethlehem. Some have regarded this whole discussion as representing a phase in the disputes about the person of Jesus in the “Johannine community.”⁶⁷

It is doubtful, however, whether such a reconstruction of later disputes can be rightly inferred from the words of this text. That those who call Jesus “the prophet” do so on the basis of Jesus’ miraculous power to produce “living water” does not agree with what the text says about the impression that Jesus’ “words” made on his hearers. Nor does vs. 40 mention a miracle, unlike the reaction to the bread miracle in ch. 6. Nor is it by any means clear that those who say “This is the Christ” are merely injecting a nuance into the words of the first group, referring to the Mosaic prophet-messiah. It seems, rather, that, as in 1:20, 21, a clear distinction is being made between “the prophet” and “the Christ.” All the Evangelist has in mind with this reproduction of internal discussions is to point out the confusion and division among Jesus’ hearers, despite the impression he obviously made on them. They could not arrive at a correct insight into Jesus’ identity because they reasoned from within their traditional conceptions (whatever they were), which, because of his origin, future, and relationship to God, Jesus did not fit.

It is remarkable, however, that neither the Evangelist nor Jesus himself responds to the appeal to Scripture advanced by some against his messiahship, namely to the Messiah’s origin from “the seed of David” and Bethlehem, “the village where David was” (vs. 42). Many interpreters regard this as a typical example of Johannine irony: in their ignorance the Jews confirm precisely what they seek to oppose.⁶⁸ Others believe, however, that this shows that the Evangelist knew nothing of Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem.⁶⁹

But it is most unlikely that the Evangelist was completely ignorant of the Christian traditions concerning Jesus’ birth in Bethlehem and his Davidic origin in view of the important role assigned from the beginning to the Davidic origin (Ro. 1:3; Rv. 22:16; Mt. 1:1, etc.) and the abundance of Scripture pointing to that tradition (2 Sa. 7:12ff.; Is. 11:1; Ps. 84:4f., etc.). Admittedly, the expected birth of the Messiah in Bethlehem (Mi. 5:1) apparently played no role in Jewish writings.⁷⁰ Nevertheless, not only here but also in Mt. 2:5 such an expectation is assumed to be present among the people and specifically among the scribes; and conversely, the offense people took at Jesus’ supposed Galilean origin comes up more than once in the Fourth Gospel (1:46; 7:27, 41, 52). The fact that the Evangelist never reacts to this recurrent complaint seems, therefore, to have a deeper reason than that he had no better information about Jesus’ earthly origins. To refer in every instance to irony seems forced. The explanation for this silence is rather that what was of decisive importance for the Evangelist was not Jesus’ earthly descent from the family of David and his origin in Bethlehem but his heavenly origin and mission. That is, in fact, the “answer” that the Gospel gives when the Galilean origin of Jesus is brought up. Hence “Come and see!” “Convince yourself!” in 1:46. Hence Jesus’ persistent refusal in dialogue with the Jews to discuss his earthly origin (cf. 6:42ff.; 7:28f.). What is decisive for the “who” and “whence” of Jesus is not what can be established genealogically and geographically but only whether what he said and did was of God (cf. 6:44f.; 7:28, 29).⁷¹ For that reason the Evangelist confines himself to the observation that there was “a schism” on this point among the people over Jesus⁷² (cf. Lk. 12:49f.).

Meanwhile (vs. 44) attempts to arrest him are continued by those whose choice against Jesus has become fixed. This statement runs like a dark thread through these chapters (cf. 7:1, 13, 30, 32, 45) and is accompanied, as here, by an equally recurrent statement that no one laid hands on him (cf. 8:59; 10:39).

45, 46 In vss. 45ff. this last point is given a telling explanation that brings us into the circles of the Sanhedrin. The occasion is the report of the officers (cf. vs. 32) sent out to arrest Jesus. Asked why they came back empty-handed, these men say that the power of Jesus’ words was too strong for them to arrest him: “No one ever spoke like this man!” Some expositors see proof, here again in this answer, that the Evangelist wanted to present Jesus as “the prophet” whose authority even impressed the court’s officers.⁷³ But the problem between the members of the Sanhedrin and their employees was obviously something more than the identification of Jesus as “the prophet.” What prevented the officers from arresting Jesus was not some “theological” identification of the person of Jesus but their own consciousness that they were faced with a power greater than what could be attributed to a mere human being, a power for which, as ordinary people, they had no words, but which made it impossible for them to carry out the instructions they had been given.

47-49 Having said this, the officers thus defined exactly what the opposition and hostility of the Jewish leaders were directed against: the impression of unassailability Jesus made on people. The Pharisees among the members of the Sanhedrin react to the officers’ statement with anger and contempt: “Have you also [already] been led astray [by him]?” Certainly, as persons directly involved in the enforcement of the will of the highest authority, something different might have been expected of them.⁷⁴ The Pharisees use the word “deceived,” a loaded expression that some expositors take even here as a technical juridical term that accuses Jesus of “tempting someone into idolatry or blasphemy” (cf. Dt. 13:6), which carried the death penalty.⁷⁵ But in this context the emphasis is on the despicable nature of letting oneself be “led astray.”

After all (vs. 48), “Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him?” Instead of taking such people as their models, the officers had lowered themselves to the level of “the crowd who do not know the law,” for whom the members of the Sanhedrin had no better word than “accursed” (vs. 49). “This crowd which does not know the law” is generally taken as equivalent to a phrase familiar from Jewish literature, ʿam ha-ʾāreṣ (“people of the land”), which in the course of time had varying implications but functions here, as in the usage of the day, as a pejorative term for those who cared little or nothing about the prescriptions of the scribes, especially of the Pharisees.⁷⁶ Some scholars think that because study of the law also brought with it a certain level of educational attainment, this expression also served to denote the lower social class of this “crowd.” But even if this is the case, that element does not play a role here. The Pharisees’ contempt responds not to Jesus associating with what they regarded as “a lower class of people” but to the lack of knowledge of the law and of respect for lawful authority that made these people an easy prey for all sorts of popular leaders, who (mis)led them out of the true service of God represented by the Jewish leaders. For that reason “this crowd” was in their eyes “accursed,” estranged and excluded from the privileges of the people of God—a statement that in its intensity again shows how far the hostility of the Jewish leaders against Jesus and against his influence on the people had progressed.

50, 51 It is at this low point in the relations between “the Jews” and Jesus that the Evangelist suddenly again brings Nicodemus on the scene. As he does so, he recalls Nicodemus’s earlier visit with Jesus (3:1ff.) and describes him as “one of them,” that is, as a Pharisee. That a permanently negative judgment on Nicodemus is thus implied⁷⁷ is still to be considered (see below). In any case, at this moment Nicodemus clearly takes up the cudgels for Jesus with an appeal to the law itself, on the knowledge of which the Pharisees so much prided themselves over against “the crowd who do not know the law.” Nicodemus thus argued his case on the basis of what bound him together with his fellow members of the Sanhedrin, namely “our law,” and not as a confessor of Jesus or defender of Jesus’ teaching. What he asks is that justice be done to Jesus in accordance with the law, which was valid for all and which allowed no one to be condemned unheard and without a careful examination (cf. Dt. 1:16; 17:4; 19:18).⁷⁸ That Nicodemus could have said the same for a thief or a murderer,⁷⁹ though true of course, is not relevant to the Evangelist’s purpose. Rather, in the way the Evangelist brings in Nicodemus and lets him speak he shows that the man had all the more right to speak that way because by his visit with Jesus he had observed the rule that one must hear before judging. Perhaps Nicodemus thinks that if those he addresses had taken the trouble to listen first they would now be judging Jesus differently.⁸⁰ But that is not in the text and says more than the Evangelist apparently intended here. Nevertheless, it can hardly be accidental that it is Nicodemus, apparently as the only person to do so, who here exposes the hypocrisy of the Sanhedrin, especially in view of the way in which he reappears later (19:39).

52 The rulers’ answer shows profound annoyance. Instead of responding to Nicodemus’s irrefutable objection, they brusquely put him down. Again “Galilee” is the reason for their unbelief. “Certainly you, Nicodemus, did not yourself come from there, did you?”⁸¹ No one mentions Jesus. But the intent of their sarcastic remarks is clear enough. If Nicodemus should identify himself with those who had their origins in Galilee (Jesus and the numerous ʿam ha-ʾāreṣ of Galilee), he would do well to make sure first of what the Scripture says in this respect.⁸² He would then have to come to the conclusion that no prophet ever “arises” from Galilee. That at least is the import of the most accepted reading (“prophet” without the article). In that case the statement relates not only to Jesus but—ad hominem!—also to Nicodemus himself. Many more recent scholars, however, are inclined to follow the important manuscripts in reading “the prophet,” which would be a reference to “the prophet” mentioned in vs. 40. In support of this, 2 Kg. 14:25 mentions a prophet from Galilee. But the validity of this argument is open to question. The present tense (“arises”) does not make a historical or statistical pronouncement but indicates a general rule:⁸³ from Galilee one expects no prophets.⁸⁴ That rule applies even if at some time in the past a prophet had come from Galilee. If one considers “the prophet” original, the question remains why the members of the Sanhedrin speak of that figure as distinct from the Messiah, and not of the Messiah himself. Also, the question of vs. 52a would then lose its caustic force, which is so characteristic of the dispute here.

However this point is resolved, this last provocative pronouncement from the Jewish council not only demonstrates how the opposition to Jesus deepened, but also—and undoubtedly the Evangelist intended this effect as he abruptly ended the story here—the permanent hopelessness of the appeal to the law when it is not understood in the light of the gospel (cf. 1:17). The law is invalidated in its requirement that one be open to what a man (here Jesus) has to say about himself⁸⁵ and “recognize (learn) what he does.”⁸⁶ Furthermore, the witness of the Scriptures concerning Jesus is then turned into its opposite. For over against Jesus’ “Search the Scriptures because … it is they that bear witness to me” (5:39), one here, with the same word, reads: “Search and you will see that no prophet is to arise from Galilee.”

Nicodemus

Various opinions are held, as already indicated, about the role of Nicodemus, depending in part on the meaning one assigns to his conduct in 3:1ff. and 19:39.

According to some expositors, Nicodemus projects the image of those among the Jewish people and their leaders who sympathized with Jesus but remained on the wrong side of the dividing line. This is said to be clear not only from his encounter in ch. 3 but also from his conduct on behalf of Jesus in ch. 7. He champions the cause of justice here but evinces no faith in Jesus. De Jonge pursues this line of thought into 19:39.⁸⁷ He deems it clear that in John 19 Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea are presented “as having come to a dead end.” They saw, de Jonge argues, the burial of Jesus as final and were unable to look past the grave.⁸⁸ Others, however, believe that a gradual change took place in the life of Nicodemus and consider his conduct at Jesus’ burial as proof of that. For example, Calvin, in his comments on 7:50f., still describes Nicodemus as a “neutral” man,⁸⁹ one in whom “the seed of the Gospel, which afterwards bore fruit, still lay choked in him.”⁹⁰ In connection with 19:38 he speaks, however, of “heroic courage” such that “in the last straits they boldly come out into the open”—an attitude Calvin attributes to “a heavenly impulse, so that those who were afraid to give Him due honour while He was alive now hasten to His dead body as if they were new men.”⁹¹ In that turnabout Calvin sees a fulfillment of 12:24. Brown similarly thinks it possible that in 19:37ff. the Evangelist has in mind Jesus’ pronouncement in 12:32 that “when I am lifted up from the earth I will draw all people to myself.” This then, Brown writes, is true of those who until now had concealed themselves. Thus the Evangelist might be encouraging the crypto-believers in the synagogue to follow the example of Nicodemus and Joseph.⁹²

A particular understanding of Nicodemus is that he is one of the pillars in the “two-level” hypothesis presented by J. L. Martyn⁹³ and followed to varying degrees by others. Nicodemus is at the beginning (3:2) the representative of the “secret believers” in the synagogue in “the city” of the Evangelist or at the time of the Evangelist. He symbolizes both their belief that Jesus could be the Mosaic prophet and their fear of being cast out of the synagogue for that belief (cf. 9:22, 34; 12:42; 16:2). Martyn appeals to 7:52, where the Pharisees (who represent “Jamnia loyalists” after the destruction of Jerusalem)⁹⁴ attribute to Nicodemus the opinion that Jesus was “the (Mosaic) Prophet,” an opinion Nicodemus does not reject. Hence their demand (says Martyn): “Search the Scriptures and you will see that no prophet arises from Galilee.” All this, Martyn says, sheds light on 3:2ff. This secret (“and, to be sure, embryonic”) faith was confirmed when Nicodemus visited Jesus by night (“Jesus,” in the two-level theory, is to be understood as he manifested himself in the Christian community that was separate from the synagogue; cf. “we” in 3:11) to secure “data sufficient to mount a midrashic defense” for the conviction that Jesus was the prophet (cf. 3:2: “we know”). In this secret dialogue between “Nicodemus” and the later church, in which the “midrashic” (theological) approach to Jesus’ identity is rejected, the “dreadful dualism” between the divergent church and synagogue is said to have been concretized.⁹⁵

One must guard against inferring from the fact that Nicodemus went to Jesus by night that he represents a certain type of faith, namely that of the “secret believers,” a typology that is supposed to govern unfavorably his conduct from one end of the Gospel to the other. In the “two-level” theory the “figure” of Nicodemus even develops into an entire class of secret believers in the later synagogue with a “midrashic” christology of their own. Against this view we must advance the objection raised earlier⁹⁶ that in this way the historical background against which the gospel story is staged and the horizon within which it is interpreted is progressively transposed from the first “level” (that of the historical Jesus) to the second (that of the Johannine community). The result is that all the people and dialogues in the Gospel increasingly lose not only their distinctiveness but also their historical character and become symbolic figures and symbolic dialogues that are then joined with great resourcefulness and imagination into a new historical structure, to which, by studying the Gospel from this perspective, scholars then skillfully add ever new features and details.⁹⁷ This is a method—we daresay—that in its historicizing and reconstructive power yields in nothing to, and is also no less hypothetical than, that which was applied in the earlier “Lives of Jesus” to the story of the “historical” Jesus himself, but which in the course of time was increasingly (and correctly!) rejected as an inadequate approach to the kerygmatic character of the Gospels.

However, quite aside from this general objection, the entire notion that in the Fourth Gospel Nicodemus represents the model of the crypto-believer in which the definitive break between synagogue and church is mirrored lacks support in the texts. Whatever moved Nicodemus to come to Jesus by night (see the comments on 3:1ff.), it was certainly not that in secret he had already in some way committed himself to faith in Jesus as the Messiah. The hypothesis that he regarded Jesus as “the Mosaic prophet-Messiah” and secretly sought to secure from Jesus support for that belief so he could better defend himself over against Jewish orthodoxy can in no way be verified from the texts (see the comments on 3:2 and 7:52). Moreover, the motif of the crypto-believer nowhere has any point of contact in Jesus’ reaction to Nicodemus’s nocturnal visit. Jesus did not fault the “faith” that Nicodemus obviously represented (cf. 2:23) or the “we know” with which Nicodemus approached him (3:2) on the grounds that he and those he spoke for lacked the courage to acknowledge their faith in him (cf. also 2:23ff., where there is no notion of “a secret faith” in the case of the many either). He did so, rather, because this “faith” and this “knowing” were entirely alien to the self-witness and “knowing” of Jesus and his followers (3:11) and were therefore the same as not believing (3:12; cf. 1:11). On that issue the “dialogue,” as far as Nicodemus is concerned, comes to no conclusion. Nicodemus disappears into the night exactly as he came, not as a model of the “secret believer” but of the scribe in Israel who for all his “knowing” hears from Jesus that no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.

But the Gospel does not thus write Nicodemus off. Because the Evangelist is silent about Nicodemus’s departure and reaction, this first appearance in ch. 3 is open-ended, which becomes clear from his return in 7:52. Even then the Evangelist makes no judgment concerning Nicodemus’s faith. Admittedly, there is an indisputable and very significant connection between these two appearances (cf. 7:50). Again Nicodemus is on the stage as a leader in Israel, this time not just as a scribe but also as a member of the highest court. The idea that with “being one of them” he is described as one of the secretly believing members of the Sanhedrin,⁹⁸ or even as the man who was and remained one of them (see the exposition above), fails to appreciate the entire thrust of the dialogue in the Sanhedrin and Nicodemus’s part in it. It is clear that the Evangelist’s aim is above all to expose the hypocrisy of the members of the Sanhedrin, who as the designated upholders of the law and of justice trampled on one of the most rudimentary principles of the law: judge no one unheard. In that conflict Nicodemus was the one who, as “one of them” and hence as one who was responsible for the administration of justice, became an advocate of Jesus’ rights at the place where justice was to be administered. In that position and on that issue he appealed to universally valid law and not to his personal relationship to Jesus, which can hardly be explained by lack of courage, that of the crypto-believer, supposedly attributed to him by the Evangelist. The issue was not faith, but justice.

Nicodemus’s appeal to the principle of legal procedure (“Does our law judge a man without first giving him a hearing⁹⁹ and learning what he does”) obviously alludes to his own earlier meeting with Jesus. Therefore, if we view Nicodemus’s appearance in ch. 7 against the background of ch. 3—for which the Evangelist offers ready justification—then the sense can hardly be other than that (however much Jesus had faulted him as a teacher in Israel), now that Nicodemus has been called on to make a judgment concerning Jesus, his earlier meeting with Jesus prevented him from quietly standing by as his fellow judges denounced Jesus as a deceiver of the people and a blasphemer without first hearing him (as Nicodemus himself had “heard” Jesus). That the Evangelist refrains from giving a further description of this action of Nicodemus is not surprising. His purpose is not, as was said earlier (see the comments on ch. 4), to sketch the spiritual history of the people around Jesus but much more to demonstrate the power of Jesus’ word and the choice with which he confronted the people in their encounter with him. When it is viewed in that light, one can hardly, in my opinion, characterize Nicodemus’s second appearance—now not at night but in the public light of the highest Jewish court—as the model of a frightened “secret believer” but rather as proof of the lasting impression Jesus had made on him. To say more about Nicodemus’s motives and faith in this situation was evidently deemed superfluous by the Evangelist.

All this stands out all the more clearly if one also considers Nicodemus’s third appearance, now with Joseph of Arimathea (19:38ff.). That Joseph is described as “a disciple of Jesus but secretly,¹⁰⁰ for fear of the Jews” and Nicodemus as the one “who had at first come to [Jesus] by night” is doubtlessly intended to place the initiative they now take (to give Jesus an honorable burial) in a certain light. But that the Evangelist thus sought to depict their care for Jesus’ body as typical of people who had stayed on the wrong side and had come to a “dead end” with Jesus must rank as the least likely conclusion one could attach to their intervention with Pilate and the last respects they paid Jesus. Nicodemus’s return in ch. 19 corresponds totally with that in ch. 7. Again he comes to the fore, this time together with the—till now—“fearful” Joseph, when only some powerless women are left on the scene to provide for the honor of the now dead Jesus. With that Nicodemus disappears from history, not with the image of the crypto-believer who opts out whenever things come to a head, but as the man who, however much he failed at the beginning to appreciate Jesus at his true worth (and was unambiguously told so by Jesus), later could not resist choosing the side of Jesus in the most critical situations. It is certainly a picture that the Evangelist draws as an example to be followed, not as a warning against what not to do. And that is how it has been understood over and over again in the church.

7:53–8:11

Jesus and the Adulterous Woman

The now following passage—often described as the pericope de adultera—is generally regarded as a later insertion, not belonging to the original Gospel. The arguments for this view are not only that it constitutes a clear interruption of the text (between 7:53 and 8:12) and differs sharply in language and style from John, but above all that the textual evidence strongly argues against the idea that originally this pericope belonged to the Fourth Gospel. In the uncials it occurs first in Codex Bezae (D, fifth century) and after that only in manuscripts like E (eighth century), G (ninth century), H (ninth century), K (ninth century), and M (ninth century). The most ancient textual evidence is found in the Western church (some Old Latin manuscripts, the Vulgate), and Western church fathers like Augustine defend its genuineness. But in the Eastern church there are also traces of this story.¹⁰¹ It is undoubtedly of ancient date and in content evinces the character of an authentic tradition, not that of a fictitious story. But the many variants in which the text comes down to us and the fact that in some minuscules it is introduced into the text after 7:36 or 21:24 or in the Gospel of Luke after 21:38,¹⁰² point to an unstable tradition that was not originally part of a ecclesiastically accepted text.

How did this textual state of affairs come about? No conclusive answer has been given. An explanation that has found support is that the manner in which Jesus sends the adulterous woman away with only a word and without condemning her was “hard to reconcile with the stern penitential discipline in vogue in the early church.”¹⁰³ This interpretation is in keeping with Augustine’s view that the pericope, though included in the original text, was later omitted because some feared that it might help defenders of adultery.¹⁰⁴ Only later, when a more liberal penitential practice had been adopted, did the pericope find acceptance, first in the liturgical reading of the church and then also in the text of the New Testament.

But why did it find a place in the Gospel of John, and why here in the Gospel? This is the more striking because the attempt to incorporate it in the Gospel of Luke had no permanent effect, although it would seem, because of its general character and the mention in 7:53 of the Mount of Olives as the place were Jesus would spend the night, to fit better in Luke than after John 7 (cf. Lk. 21:37). On the other hand, expositors have pointed out that John 7 and 8 with their frequent reference to “judging” and “witness” (cf. 7:49ff.; 8:14ff.) and especially Jesus’ pronouncement in 8:15 could have furnished the point of contact for inclusion of the story here. That is undoubtedly an important point. But it cannot be denied that the story is in this context an interruption rather than an integrated part of the text. Despite the important and insightful studies that have been and continue to be devoted to the text-critical, church-historical, and material aspects of this pericope,¹⁰⁵ various questions remain that are not, and probably cannot be, definitely answered, as to the separate life of the pericope, its late acceptance in the canonical writings, and its place in the Gospel of John. A return to the originality of the pericope at this location does not seem possible. But still we have here such a precious and—in the judgment of many—historically authentic tradition from the life of Jesus that not only does its place in the Fourth Gospel have to be maintained¹⁰⁶ but also exposition of it rightly remains in most commentaries on John.¹⁰⁷

If one reads the text as a continuation of what preceded, then “each” refers to the members of the Sanhedrin. However, though it is lacking in some manuscripts, 7:53 belongs with the interpolated pericope. It is doubtful that it is meant as a transitional formula and therefore as connected with what precedes. If it is not, then it relates to a situation that is unknown to us; for example, to an earlier conversation with Jesus in the temple, of which 8:2 (“again”) is then the continuation. In any case 8:1 refers to a historical situation, as in Luke, of Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem, during which he taught in the temple during the day (19:47; 20:1; 21:37) and was outside the city on the Mount of Olives at night. Vs. 2 reflects the same kind of situation, even mentioning the time (“early in the morning”) at which Jesus and the people met in the temple (cf. Lk. 21:38).

3-6a In vs. 3 the actual story begins. “The scribes and Pharisees” is common in the Synoptics; John does not have it and in such contexts speaks rather of “the Pharisees.” “Scribes” refers to a class; “Pharisees” to a party. Hence, though the two groupings are not identical (not all scribes belonged to the party of the Pharisees and not all Pharisees were scribes), the combination undoubtedly related to a common mentality, that of the Pharisaic zealots for the Jewish tradition as that was manifest especially among the scribal leaders of that party.

Here, too, the issue is one of law, but in a very concrete way. The woman has been caught committing adultery and stands accused in the midst of her accusers. Those who ask Jesus for his opinion on what to do with the woman place all the emphasis on her having been caught in the act (vs. 4). Not that they were in any doubt about what the law of Moses prescribed for such a case (vs. 5). The penalty for adultery was death for both the man and the woman (Lv. 20:10; Dt. 22:22ff.). That the death penalty had to be carried out by stoning is not stated in the texts, but stoning was in fact the most common way in which the death penalty was carried out in Israel. Hence the question that the Pharisees and scribes posed to Jesus (“Teacher … what do you say?”—the “you” has the emphatic position) did not arise from any perplexity on their part over whether they should apply this cruel punishment or from any need for advice, but because they wanted to hear from him an opinion that did not accord with the law. They questioned him on account of his deviant attitude toward people like this woman and because of their own annoyance that such people listened to Jesus (cf., e.g., Lk. 7:36ff.; 15:1; 5:29ff.). This intention is expressly brought out in vs. 6a:¹⁰⁸ they asked him so that they might have some charge to bring against him before the Jewish court. If he would take a stand for the woman, he would thus, in their opinion, be in open conflict with Moses.

Meanwhile, all sorts of questions arise in the exegesis. Had the woman already been condemned when she was brought to Jesus? Some expositors are inclined to assume this; others, however, point—correctly, I think—to vs. 10.¹⁰⁹ Furthermore, death by stoning is stipulated in the law only for adultery with a still unmarried but betrothed woman (Dt. 22:23); a married woman who commits adultery is to be executed, but the method is not specified. For that reason some interpreters believe that in the present story also we are dealing with a woman who was engaged to be married.¹¹⁰ However, against this it has been remarked by Blinzler and others, first, that if such a distinction were intended in vs. 5, it would have been indicated more clearly (as in Dt. 22:23ff.); in this context “woman” can hardly mean anything other than married woman. Second, in vs. 3 the woman’s sin is called “adultery” and she herself “adulteress,” words used in Greek, if not exclusively, then predominantly and certainly in lawsuits, for adultery, that is, for violation of one’s own marriage. And, third, where the Mosaic law mentions the death penalty, death by stoning is usually meant and that, as may appear also from passages like Ezk. 16:38-41; 23:45-48, this is undoubtedly the case in Dt. 22:22.¹¹¹

To all this must be added the question whether in the days of Jesus the Jews, under Roman domination, could still execute a person. The question addressed to Jesus could be intended to embarrass Jesus if he should express himself as being in favor of the death penalty for the woman, because in that case he would be turning against the Roman government (cf. Mt. 22:15ff.). But the text does not allude to such a complication. As is evident from vs. 5, when charges are mentioned, the ground for them would be a departure from the Mosaic law and not the Roman law. And the entire context suggests that the threat facing the woman was not that people would report her to the Roman government but that they would execute her.

6b Jesus’ reaction is very unusual and has given rise to all kinds of explanations and speculations.¹¹² Expositors have attempted to reconstruct what, in his stooped posture, Jesus wrote on the ground. An ancient interpretation advocated by Ambrose and Augustine and considered acceptable by more recent interpreters refers to Jr. 17:13, where it is said of those who turn away from the Lord that “they will be written in the earth, for they have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living water.”¹¹³ In a “parabolic action” Jesus sought, according to this view, to remind the men of this Scripture by writing on the ground, without attacking them openly, then said “You are those who have turned away,” and warned them against their own judgment.¹¹⁴ Others refer to the custom in Roman jurisprudence according to which the judge wrote down his verdict before making it known. In that case, then, it would be a judgment of acquittal.¹¹⁵ But both of these interpretations remain far-fetched. One does not expect from Jesus, in the midst of Jewish country and certainly under the given circumstances, allusions to the internal customs of Roman jurisprudence. And that in what must be regarded as an extremely subtle way Jesus sought to remind the scribes of the word of judgment in Jr. 17:13, though not impossible, also remains very doubtful. We do not get the impression that any of those present read what Jesus wrote on the ground.

It was apparently not so much the content as the act of writing itself that was at stake. And that, too, however, can be interpreted in various ways. Did Jesus want to make plain to the scribes and Pharisees, who wished to see the letter of the law upheld and enforced at any price, that there are also situations in which it is better to “write in the sand,” to make evil erasable, to let the punishment “blow away”? If that explanation is viewed as overloaded with symbolism, then all that remains is that with this silent act Jesus intended no more than to initiate a kind of delaying or cooling-off process. He attracted attention away from the woman. He did something strange, unusual, in fact trivial. While all around him anxiously awaited his answer, with the woman standing in their midst as the sinner “caught in the act,” he turned away from all the commotion and stooped toward the ground, silently drawing letters or figures as if to keep himself occupied. However one might interpret this writing on the ground, it functions in any case in this dramatic situation as an anticlimax. Jesus seems to have been completely disregarding the urgency of the question and the case.

7 His interrogators, however, refused to accept such a delay and pressed him for an answer.¹¹⁶ In response to this display of impatience Jesus straightened up. For only a moment he interrupted his work of writing on the ground in order, with a word, to bring home to them the disgraceful and precarious nature of their conduct. All right, then, you zealots for the law, “let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” There lies the challenge. Jesus continues to use the language of the law. For there it was stipulated (cf. Dt. 13:9; 17:7) that the witnesses of a capital crime were to be first to turn their hand against the guilty person. But by designating as the first the one “who is without sin,” Jesus faces them with the full and final seriousness of the law, not so as to lay down conditions that would make all human administration of justice impossible, but in order to confront all who, ignoring their own sin, want to judge and condemn others without mercy, to confront such judges with what awaits them if the heavenly judge should some day judge them by the same standard (cf. Mt. 7:1ff.).

8-11 After this one statement Jesus “again stooped down and wrote with his finger on the ground.” The answer to their question was now no longer for him but for them to give. Then they understood his word (vs. 9a), but also his continued silence and writing, as an opportunity to arrive at different thoughts, as time in which to repent. He did not so much as look up until they had left, beginning with the oldest, who understood that they had to be the first by giving an example. Jesus then was left with the woman, who still stood there as the accused—or in the famous words of Augustine: relicti sunt duo, misera et misericordia. Only then (vs. 10) did Jesus straighten up and turn—for the first time—toward the woman. And acting as if he himself had remained totally uninvolved and had not even noticed the departure of those who had come to trap him, he asked her, “Where are they? Has no one condemned you?” The question seems needless; still it is without a trace of irony or gloating; it serves only to bring home to the woman the full reality of the fact that she no longer had to fear anything from those who had threatened her life. Her answer (vs. 11) is no more than an echo of his words: “No one, Lord.” That is all she says in the whole story. Of her state of mind not a word is said. She seems not the contrite sinner (cf. Lk. 7:36-50) but the object of God’s seeking and freeing love in Jesus Christ. To her could be applied the Pauline word: “It is God who justifies; who is to condemn?” (Ro. 8:33, 34).

To this reality in particular Jesus’ word of farewell to the woman testifies: “Neither do I condemn you.” Here, as in vs. 10, “condemn” is used in the legal sense of “sentence.” Only now does Jesus answer the question put to him at the beginning: “Teacher … what do you say?” But he speaks not as a rabbi giving an opinion in a matter concerning the law but as one who has power “on earth to forgive sins” (Lk. 5:24) and “to set at liberty those who are oppressed” (Lk. 4:19). He sends the woman away free, but not without saying to her with the same messianic authority: “and from now on do not sin again.” That Jesus does not condemn her does not mean that he does not disapprove of her adultery or, since no one is “without sin,” that he ignores it. “From now on” may seem redundant before “again” and is missing from some manuscripts. But it takes its meaning for the woman from the event that has just occurred, not only because by sinning again she would again expose herself to the danger she has just escaped but also because of the new life on the road of forgiveness and deliverance that Jesus has opened for her (cf. 5:14).

With good reason, despite its uncertain provenance, this story has been called a pearl of great price. The masterful simplicity¹¹⁷ of the story reflects the unique manner in which the gospel is brought to expression by Jesus: by silencing with a word or a gesture the curse of a law torn from its base and by (re-)establishing justice on the foundation of his grace.

8:12-20

Jesus’ Self-Witness Again under Attack

12 As already stated in the introduction to chs. 7–10; 8:13-59 can best be understood as the continuation of ch. 7. Not only does the scene of the action—the temple—remain the same (cf. vss. 20, 59) but the subject of the dialogues ties in closely with what had already come up in the preceding chapters, specifically in ch. 7 (cf. 8:12 with 7:37; 8:14 with 7:27, 28; 8:15 with 7:24; 8:21ff. with 7:33), in keeping with the author’s method of resuming earlier themes and developing them.¹¹⁸ Again and repeatedly the main focus is the conflict over Jesus’ true identity, an identity confirmed by Jesus himself in ever new pronouncements and misunderstood, doubted, and opposed by his hearers. This applies immediately to vss. 12ff., which are introduced by a very general transitional formula (“again Jesus spoke to them”) and clearly linked with the solemn final pronouncement in 7:37 about the living water, which was uttered in close association with the ritual of the feast on “the last day of the feast, the great day.”

Similarly Jesus now proclaims himself (vs. 12b) the light of the world. This is sometimes linked with the great illumination of the Court of the Women on the eve of the morning on which water was drawn from the spring of Siloam.¹¹⁹ There was so much light then that, according to Jewish tradition, “there was not a courtyard in Jerusalem that was not illumined by the light of the place of the water-drawing.”¹²⁰ The reference to “the treasury of the temple” in vs. 20 may support this link (see the comments there). But after the reference to “the last day of the festival” in 7:37 it has to remain an open question whether the saying in 8:12 was uttered still during the Feast of Tabernacles itself or later but under the fresh impact of it. In any case, as in 7:37ff., the ritual of the feast would serve as the contrasting backdrop for what Jesus proclaims in this revelational utterance. What was symbolized at the feast, God’s salvation, Jesus is and gives, as both “living water” and “the light of life.” And aside from any link with the festal liturgy, the parallelism between the two pronouncements is undeniable:

7:37: If any one thirst, let him come to me

8:12: I am the light of the world

7:38: the one who believes in me

8:12: the one who follows me

7:38: out of his heart will flow rivers of living water

8:12: will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.

In 8:12 we have one of the familiar “I am” sayings of Jesus. In these sayings the “I” receives so much emphasis that it no longer functions as the subject of the sentence (with, say, “light” as predicate) but, conversely, is itself the predicate with “light” as subject: “The light of the world am I.”¹²¹ Therefore the point is not primarily to analyze what “light” means here—understanding of that concept is assumed—but that the light that the world needs and by which alone a person can escape the darkness is Jesus, and therefore that whoever follows him will not walk in darkness. In this focus of the revelational utterance everything is concentrated on the person of Jesus, which explains why, in the Pharisees’ reaction (vs. 13), the issue is not light but Jesus’ claim to be the light.

That Jesus is the true light “of the world” refers primarily not to the universal significance of the light but the existential significance of what in 1:4 is called “the light of people” (cf. vs. 9: “every person”), the light that humanity and the world need to exist, what is therefore called here “the light of life,” that is, the life-giving light. We are not expressly told in what that “life” consists; it is contrasted with “walking in darkness,” which refers not primarily to the moral dimension of human conduct (as in Paul: Ro. 13:13 etc.) but to the conduct of life in a more comprehensive sense (cf. 12:35; Mt. 6:22, 23). The contrast with darkness is inherent in the word “light” but also typical of the Johannine use of sharp contrasts: light versus darkness, life versus death, truth versus untruth, and the like.¹²² The significance of “light” is determined by that antithesis. The light does not merely bring about a degree of clarification by which human beings are raised to a higher level, say, of knowledge or conduct, but rather rescues them from the life-threatening forces of darkness. This absolute character of the light can then, because it is the light of life, be applied to all sorts of forms and facets of life. But again the focus is not on what is brought out by this kind of analysis but on the fact that Jesus is the light of the world and that the person who follows him as disciple will not walk in darkness.

13 In response to these claims of absoluteness the Pharisees again react sharply (cf. the comments on 7:32, 47). What offends them is not that Jesus can bring light, comfort, and happiness to people but that he says that he is the light of the world. And again the question concerning the legitimacy of such “testimony” arises, as in 5:31-40 (but there Jesus brought up the issue). As there, so also here, though figuratively (see below), the issue is the forensic meaning of “testimony.” Since in court only the testimony of two had legal force (cf. vs. 17), the Pharisees argued that Jesus could not claim credibility on the basis of his own testimony alone. “You are bearing witness to yourself.” That is, you are attributing to yourself and on your own authority this absolute significance of being the light of the world. But for that reason your testimony is not true, that is, not valid for the purpose of legitimating yourself as such.

14 Jesus’ answer to this objection and challenge takes a somewhat different form than his argument in 5:31ff. There he follows the rule put to him here by the Pharisees and says that if he alone bore witness to himself, his testimony would not be valid. He refers to his works, and in those works to his Father as his fellow witness. Here, however, he begins by emphasizing the validity of his own testimony—though he does not stop there and in vs. 17 again concludes with his own conformity to the (“your”) law.

He explains that his testimony (that he is the light of the world) is true and valid, even though he bears this witness to himself, by referring to his origin and destination. Because he knows himself to be incorporated in God’s work of salvation (cf. 13:1; 19:28), his testimony is not presumptuous but has inner validity. He appeals repeatedly to this knowledge (cf. 7:29; 8:14, 55). His opponents ask him for legitimation because they do not know either where he is from or where he is going (vs. 14b), and they repeatedly manifest this ignorance in their questions (cf. 7:28; 8:19, 54ff.; 9:29).

15, 16¹²³ The Pharisees disbelieve Jesus’ self-testimony and ask him for further legitimation because they judge “according to the flesh,” the appearance of things, and therefore—as 7:24 states—cannot judge rightly. In antithesis Jesus says, “I judge no one.” The import of these words is not entirely clear. Some expositors think that one should add the implied words “according to the flesh.” But the negation apparently concerns not only the manner of judging but judging itself. Jesus stresses that, unlike the Pharisees (cf. 8:1-11!), his aim is not to judge; judging is not his business (cf. 3:17; 12:47). Yet if he judges (vs. 16, indicative, not subjunctive; cf. comments on 3:18, 19; 9:39), his judgment is true, that is, just.¹²⁴ It is because he is “not alone” but with “the one who sent me.” “Not alone” returns in vs. 29, where we read that the Father is “with me” and “has not left me alone” (cf. 16:32). Therefore, “I and the one who sent me” applies to all that Jesus says and does; he does nothing “of himself” and judges no one “alone” and “of himself.” He would certainly be able to judge “of himself” and “alone,” and have good reason to do so over against his Jewish opponents (cf. vs. 26). But he does not do it. For he was not sent for that purpose; therefore, when he speaks and judges he does so in keeping with “what I have heard from him” (vs. 26).

The words “but I and the one who sent me,” unlinked with any verb, are striking. They have sometimes been associated with a certain (later) Jewish tradition according to which at the Feast of Tabernacles, as the priests processed around the altar and sang the Hosanna of Ps. 118:25, they sang, instead of “O Lord” (ʾānnā yhwh), “I and he” (ʾanî wāhû) to avoid using the name of God.¹²⁵ By means of this phrase (“I and he”) they brought to expression the fellowship existing between Israel and Yahweh. “I and he who sent me” is said to be the Christian equivalent, in which Christ has replaced Israel.¹²⁶ The connection with the Feast of Tabernacles is inherently attractive, but the identification with the text of the Hosanna thus sung (with which John might have been familiar)¹²⁷ remains highly uncertain, especially if one follows the reading “I and the Father who sent me.”¹²⁸

17, 18 “Not I alone … but I and the one who sent me” also explains why Jesus’ self-witness (vss. 13ff.) is not only true in itself and traceable to himself. And they also meet the condition that the law sets for a legally valid testimony: that it be given by two persons.¹²⁹ This, then, is fully expressed in a chiastic pronouncement in vs. 18, literally, “I am he who bears witness to myself,¹³⁰ and concerning me witnesses the Father who sent me.” And with that the argument recalls the argument in 5:31ff.

Here and elsewhere (cf. 10:34; 15:25; see also 7:19) Jesus refers very conspicuously to “your law.” All sorts of explanations have been given for this.¹³¹ It is clear, in any case, that by thus speaking Jesus is distancing himself from the law. Still, one cannot say that he does so in a derogatory fashion as if he were positioning himself over against the law. He appeals to the law as the authority for Jews (here and in 10:34), but he also appeals to “the Word” that “is written” (“is Scripture”) and is fulfilled in his own life (15:25). He never speaks of “your Scriptures,” though both “law” and “Scripture” go back to Moses and are simply referred to as “Moses” (cf. 1:17; 5:39, 45-47; 7:19-23). “Law” refers to what is in Scripture and what, with the coming of Jesus Christ, has been replaced by something else, or at least overshadowed as provisional and lesser (1:17), and fulfilled (15:25). When Jesus appeals to “your law,” he distances himself from what for them was the highest and final authority, and he also thus indicates, here and in 10:34, that in their opposition to him their law testifies against them, not against him (cf. also 7:19ff.).

Although it is not quoted word-for-word, “that which is written in your law” probably refers here to Dt. 19:15, which states, as a general rule of law, that “only on the evidence of two or three witnesses shall a charge be sustained.” This was a fixed rule in Jewish jurisprudence.¹³²

It has been asked whether, from a formal point of view, Jesus was actually in a position to make such an appeal to the law. For, it is said, if to the Jews Jesus’ testimony was invalid, then he would need at least two other witnesses to uphold his pronouncement. All kinds of attempts have been made to resolve this. Reference has been made to the stipulation in Jewish law that in exceptional cases the testimony of one person was sufficient (e.g., that of a father in identifying his son), which is said to apply here in the case of Jesus.¹³³ That seems too far-fetched.¹³⁴ We are dealing here, not with witnesses for the prosecution in a criminal case, of which there always had to be two (Nu. 35:30; Dt. 17:6; 19:15, etc.), but with the general legal principle that a case could be settled on the basis of the congruent testimony of two persons.

But what could Jesus mean by this appeal to the law? What judge could possibly declare on the evidence however many witnesses—and what witnesses could testify—that Jesus was in fact the light of the world? Bultmann thinks that this whole appeal to the law is “not an argument at all.” After all, it would be an absurdity to attempt to summon God to appear in court. Rather, we are dealing with “an expression of scorn,” a mockery of Jewish legalism. Bultmann thinks that Jesus meant, ironically, “The requirements of your law have been satisfied, indeed radically so, for here the two witnesses really are in unity, for the two witnesses are one!”¹³⁵

Still, however true it may be that there can be no question here of a lawsuit as would be ordinarily settled before a human tribunal, that does not mean that Jesus’ appeal to the law here can only be meaningful as satire and not as argument. For, in the first place, we are in fact dealing here, in the figurative and deepest sense of the word, with a lawsuit,¹³⁶ as is evident from the repeated use of the word “witness” and the many witnesses mentioned earlier in the case: John the Baptist (5:31ff.; cf. 1:7; 3:27), “the Father, who sent me” (5:37), the Scriptures (vs. 39), and Moses (as accuser, vss. 45f.). It is in this legal sense that the Jews are also repeatedly faulted for their failure in “judgment” (vs. 15; cf. 7:24). When Jesus appeals to the law and its principle of what constitutes valid testimony, that is not sarcastic mockery of Jewish legalism, but rather an appeal to what the law intends: not merely external conformity to binding prescriptions but the maintenance and confirmation of the truth over against the lie, presumption, and the like. Here, too, the law, to which the Jews think they can appeal as their charter and the basis for their argument, is not, as so often (cf. 7:19ff.), on their side but on Jesus’ side. If only they were a different kind of people and understood with whom in his self-witness they were dealing, they would not aim the law against him but understand that precisely in him they are confronted, in an unprecedented and most unexpected way, with the law’s demand for truth and justice; and then not reject him but accept him.

19 But they were lacking precisely in the conditions for that kind of understanding. When Jesus appeals to his Father, they ask, “Where is your Father?” This question, far from reflecting naive incomprehension of what and whom Jesus had in mind, suggests the opposite (cf. 5:18). In raising the question they are assuming a formal legal position: if a person appeals to the testimony of a witness, that person should be able to produce the witness! Again, therefore, they are presenting a demand for legitimation and an indirect challenge: if the Father is going to be your witness, bring him forward!

Jesus’ reply is direct and radical. It is not a simple misunderstanding needing to be cleared up that is at issue. What prevents them from accepting Jesus’ word as true and legally valid is that they “know neither me nor my Father.” That is, they are inwardly strangers to and outside the fellowship of both Jesus and his Father. And the two are inseparable. If they really knew Jesus and if his words did not sound strange and presumptuous in their ears, they would not ask, “Where is your Father?” They would know that what he says is of God and that the Father is his witness. But by rejecting him in unbelief they show that they do not know his Father either, the Father with whom and on whose authority he speaks.

With this statement the pericope ends. This connection of knowing Jesus with knowing the Father has been made earlier already (see the comments on 7:28, 29). It is the underlying presupposition of this entire Gospel. But together with “I am the light of the world” and the repeated conjunction of “I and the Father” (vss. 12, 16, 18), it is now said in such a way that with the decision for or against Jesus everything has come to be at stake: not only he himself but with him everything the Jews, the world, all people believe they know of God and possess in the way of life-giving light.

For the person who does not know Jesus this “argument” is, of course, not convincing. On the contrary, that person will say that Jesus’ “evidence” consists precisely in what needs to be proved: that the Father is with him as the great “witness” of what he says and does. This short circuit is inherent in the issue itself. God’s revelation does not subject itself to human control and cannot be required to legitimate itself by human standards. It can only be “known” and assented to by those who “know” him, that is, by those who, as children of God, are born not of flesh and blood but of God (1:13; 3:3ff.). But this a priori is not a demand for a blind faith in the one sent by God. It is a “knowing” in the light of Jesus’ words and works. If, therefore, Jesus bears witness to himself as the light of the world, this does not call for “unknowing” acceptance (cf. 6:69). Rather, it is a coming to know, by the content of Jesus’ words and the power of his deeds, the claim and irrefutability of the love of God extended to the world in him. It is to that decision of faith that all these dialogues lead and in the confrontation with which they all find their conclusion and climax.

20 As elsewhere (cf. 1:28; 6:59), so here also the Evangelist postpones to the end saying where all this took place: “by the treasury.”¹³⁷ This reference to the place where Jesus made these pronouncements¹³⁸ “when he taught in the temple” apparently has a certain significance.¹³⁹ Some expositors regard it as no more than one of the many brief indications of place and time in the Gospel that betray a precise knowledge of circumstances and heighten the vividness of the story. Some suggest a link with Jesus’ pronouncement in vs. 12 because, if “the treasury” refers to the place where the alms boxes were located (mentioned elsewhere as a place where Jesus spent time when he was in the temple: Mk. 12:43; Lk. 21:1), then Jesus must have been in the Court of the Women, where the alms boxes were located and where, during the Feast of Tabernacles, the celebration of lights took place (see the comments on vs. 12 above). But if that is the intent of the reference, one would expect the place indication at the beginning rather than the end of the pericope. It seems more natural to link the place indication with the immediately following statement that “no one arrested him,” translating “and” as “and yet.” The place reference is undoubtedly intended to make the contrast even sharper: Even though Jesus made his pronouncements in a crowded place that was accessible to all, no one seized him. This is all the more reason for the Evangelist to add again: “because his hour had not yet come” (see the comments on 7:30).

8:21-29

“I Am He”

In vs. 21 the dialogue between Jesus and “the Jews” continues. As in vs. 12, the transitional formula yields no information concerning time and place. But the scene seems to be the same. Not until vs. 59 do we read that Jesus has left the temple. Pharisees are no longer mentioned, only “the Jews.” But the incomprehension of Jesus and resistance to him are no less intense (cf. vss. 20, 25, 27; but see also vs. 30). And the great theme of the dialogue remains that of Jesus’ identity: “Who are you?” (vs. 25).

The dialogue begins with a statement Jesus also made earlier (7:33f.) concerning his going away and the futile attempts his partners in dialogue would make to find him. Where he will go they cannot go. The intent of the announcement is clarified by “and in your sin you will die.” The implication is that when he has gone it will be too late for them to invoke his help and to be saved by him. His announcement that he is going away is intended to press them toward a decision. The expression “die in your sin” occurs repeatedly in the Old Testament (e.g., Ezk. 3:19). It refers not only to the desolate condition in which such a death takes place but also to the guilt of the person who dies thus.¹⁴⁰ The expression is repeated twice in vs. 24, but with the plural “sins.” Although it describes the fallen condition of humanity and the world in general terms as subject to sin and judgment (cf. 1 Co. 15:17), the expression is closely related in John, here and elsewhere, to disbelief in Jesus as the one sent by the Father (cf. vs. 24; 9:41; 16:9) and to the human continuation in darkness and clinging to “evil works” (cf. 3:19ff.) that result from that disbelief—a condition of lostness and liability to punishment from which God wants to save the world in Christ (3:16ff.). Jesus is the light of the world (8:12) because it is he who takes away the world’s sin (1:29, 36).

22 “The Jews” do not react to this threat. As in 7:35, all that occupies them is wondering what Jesus means by this “going to where you cannot come.” More or less in mockery and not without malice they pose as a possibility: “Certainly he is not planning to kill himself?” They would certainly not follow him to the place where those who commit suicide go.¹⁴¹ Some expositors think that they thus (as in 7:35) unwittingly speak as prophets.¹⁴² But since Jesus points in vs. 28 to them as those who will bring about his death, that there is any allusion here to his self-offering in death is questionable. In any case, his self-offering is something other than suicide!

23 At the moment, however, Jesus gives no further reply on the matter of his going away. In two short parallel pronouncements he indicates, with a certain solemnity, what distinguishes them from him, which at the same time explains why they can neither follow him nor understand what he is speaking about. That difference is rooted in their origin and his origin: they are from below, he is from above; they are of this world, he is not of this world. The same antithesis underlies 3:3ff., 31. It does not distinguish (idealistically) between a lower and a higher mode of existence or (dualistically) between two mutually exclusive modes of existence. It refers, rather, to the contrast between the world of God and God’s Spirit, in which light and life are created, and the world of humankind in its creaturely dependence and fallen existence.

24 Here Jesus gives the reason for his pronouncement in vs. 21 that they would “die in their sin(s).” Such a death would not descend upon them as an inescapable fate. Rather, “unless you believe that I am he.” He was sent into the world so that they and all the world should not perish (see the comments on vs. 21).

Very striking—and hence much discussed—is the expression “that I am (he).” It is striking, of course, because “I am” has no predicate. According to some expositors it is a mistake to supply the pronoun “he,” as we have here and as many translations do; it is precisely the absence of any predicate that indicates, they say, the absoluteness of Jesus’ existence, or, more precisely, his self-identification with God.

The explanation for this expression was formerly usually sought in Ex. 3:14 (“I am who I am”). But now it is sought in a great number of Old Testament pronouncements in which Yahweh reveals himself as the one and only God, the reliable Redeemer of his people (cf. Is. 43:10: “that you may know and believe me and understand that I am He”) and similar utterances especially in Isaiah (e.g., 41:4; 46:4; 48:12) but also in texts like Dt. 32:39.¹⁴³ According to some scholars the absolute use of “I am,” specifically in the Septuagint, became the equivalent of a divine name.¹⁴⁴ This would explain the many Johannine references to Jesus’ name (e.g., 17:6, 26; 5:43; 10:25; 17:11, 12).¹⁴⁵ The “I am” is said to confirm “the mystery of his own eternal being, in unity with the Father.”¹⁴⁶ With this formula, it is said, Jesus reveals his unique claim to divinity, “his unity with the Father.”¹⁴⁷

But one may well ask whether the words “I am” are intended here as a divine name and whether the text implies such a self-identification of Jesus with God. If “I am” should function here as a name of God, it can hardly be itself the object of belief.¹⁴⁸ But apart from that formal objection there is obviously no question here of a self-identification of Jesus with God or a self-designation of him as divine being. Specifically opposed to this is vs. 28, where “that I am he” is joined in one clause with “and do nothing on my own authority but speak thus as the Father taught me.”¹⁴⁹ Hence in the “I am” we are in fact dealing with (faith in) the authority, the messianic power, that Jesus represents. But Jesus does not infer this authority from his own deity but, relinquishing all reference to self, points to what the Father has taught him (cf. 5:19ff.). That this “I am” presupposes a unique relationship with the Father, a Father-Son relationship that embraces more than a union of will and disposition, emerged unmistakably in our discussion of 5:19ff. Still, as 8:28 shows, the words “(believe) that I am (he)” do not refer to the ontological relationship of the Son with the Father but to his action as the one sent by the Father. Or, in Calvin’s words, “I am he” does not relate to Christ’s divine being but to his office.¹⁵⁰

But still it is striking that this “I am” is not accorded any further description. Calvin says that an undertone in it is “all that the Scripture ascribes to the Messiah and all that it tells us to expect from Him.”¹⁵¹ Other expositors also explain the “I am” as the “I am of the Messianic presence.”¹⁵² But this makes specific what was deliberately left indefinite in the words “that I am (he).” Also, when Jesus uses the term “Son of man” in vs. 28, this is not intended as a further description of who Jesus is.

Therefore it would seem that we must see in this remarkable pronouncement (“that I am [he]”) some connection with the similar manner in which God is introduced as speaking in texts like Is. 43:10. Just as there Israel is exhorted to believe in God and to know that “it is he,” namely God, he and no other, before whom no god was formed and after whom no god will be, the Lord, besides whom there is no savior, so for those to whom Jesus is speaking there is no salvation unless they believe that it is he, the one who has revealed himself to them as the one sent by God, besides whom there was and after whom there will be no other, the eternal Savior.

With this “I am,” therefore, Jesus is not identifying himself with God but revealing himself as the one sent by God in his uniqueness and exclusivity. That, of course, presupposes his unique relationship, his unity with the one who sent him. He and he alone represents God as God for the world and for people. Still one cannot say that when Jesus utters the “I am (he)” he primarily reveals not himself but the Father.¹⁵³ What in Isaiah 43 God reveals of himself as God, that Jesus reveals concerning himself as the Son of God, the one sent by the Father. As the “I am” he does not identify himself more precisely (neither as Messiah nor as Son of God) because he is referring not primarily to the what (what he is) but to the exclusivity and hence the absolute validity and trustworthiness of the that (that he is) in his unity with the Father, but also in his distinction from the Father.

Verses 25-27 can be explained along this line, however difficult vs. 25b is to translate and understand in its context.¹⁵⁴ The question of “the Jews,” “Who are you?” (vs. 25a), is clear. They do not understand what Jesus means by his indefinite “that I am (he).” Apparently they do not regard it as presumptuous or think that Jesus is applying the name of God to himself (unlike the situation in 5:18).¹⁵⁵ Their question shows how far they were from understanding what was most essential in Jesus’ public ministry and how absurd it seemed to them that he held out faith in him as the only way in which they could be saved. Jesus’ reply in vs. 25b can probably be best translated as a rhetorical question: “Why am I still speaking to you?”¹⁵⁶ a question in which he brings out the hopelessness of continuing the dialogue with them.

The first words of vs. 26, “I have much to say about you and much to judge,” lead in to what follows, “but he who sent me is true,” but are hard to explain as such. The meaning is something like: for himself Jesus has every reason to speak (with them) about them and much to judge, namely about their negative attitude toward him, and to justify himself in his pronouncements with regard to them. But he refrains from doing so. His identity is not dependent on their judgment and consent; it depends, rather, on the fact that the one who sent him is true, the true and only God. And he utters as God’s message in the world what he “has heard” from God (cf. the comments on 3:11; 5:19ff.). Thus understood, these words confirm—despite the Jews’ incomprehension—that only belief that “it is he” can save them and the whole world from dying in their sins (cf. 3:16ff.).

That “they did not understand that he spoke to them of the Father” (vs. 27) can mean that even after what was said in vss. 25 and 26 they still did not understand. If so, then this comment is meant as evidence of their continuing incomprehension and unbelief. But perhaps it is better, with a view to vs. 30, to translate: “They had not understood.” Then the statement refers to vs. 24b, especially to the words “that I am (he).” They had not understood Jesus when he spoke of himself as the one sent by the Father. Hence their question in vs. 25 and Jesus’ reply in vs. 26.

This also makes the transition to vs. 28 clearer. There will come a time when, unlike now, they will understand that it is he, namely “when they have lifted up the Son of man.” The striking expression “lift up” appeared earlier in 3:14 (cf. 12:32). But there the expression is in the passive voice and is used of Jesus’ exaltation on the cross as an event in God’s plan of redemption (“must”). Here it is active and refers to the role of the Jews in Jesus’ death. By killing him they will, without knowing it, serve the counsel of God. This makes it all the more clear that in 3:14 “lift up” had a double meaning: Jesus’ being lifted up on the cross is how he will be glorified as the Son of man, to whom all power will be given and who will sit in judgment of all (cf. 5:27). Thus the Jews’ own action will lead them to the insight that Jesus arrogated nothing to himself when he said “I am he,” that someday they will be confronted with him as the divinely exalted Son of man (cf. 6:62; Mk. 14:62 par.).

Does “you will know” refer to judgment or salvation (or to both)? There is more in the entire context that favors the first than the second.¹⁵⁷ The whole pericope, from vs. 21 on, is a warning. Time is pressing. When Jesus has gone away, those who now reject him will try in vain to find him. If they are not to die in their sins, they must, before it is too late, believe that “I am he” (vss. 21-24). Moreover, the double meaning in “lifting up” seems to presage judgment rather than salvation: their victim will prove to be their judge. The idea that we must understand “then you will know” in the light of 12:32¹⁵⁸ seems too forced. “All” in 12:32 certainly does not include all who have first rejected Jesus in unbelief. And the “then” in “then you will know,” if it implies a prediction of salvation, cannot be made specific. Where and when are all those who now reject Jesus to arrive at such salvific knowledge and acknowledgment of him? If we take the pronouncement as a prediction of judgment, then “then” refers not to a historical event (e.g., the destruction of Jerusalem) but the coming judgment by the Son of man (cf. 5:27). It is also hard to see how the pronouncement in vs. 28 could be presaging neither salvation nor condemnation but rather the possibility of both, presented both to the Jews in Jesus’ time and in the time of the Johannine church.¹⁵⁹ The pronouncement rather contains an announcement of judgment for those who reject Jesus in his self-revelation as the one sent by the Father. By this statement Jesus draws a sharp line of demarcation but does not exclude the possibility that people who have rejected him or still reject him as the “I am” should yet be able to come to faith and repentance. Central in these chapters is the confrontation with the Jewish leaders and the later Jewish synagogue in their steadfast rejection of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God. Should they persevere in this rejection they will have no other prospect but to meet him as judge.

Verse 29 continues the thought of vs. 28b and therefore still belongs to the explication of “I am (he).” Jesus is that “I am,” not only because he adheres totally to what he has heard from the Father (vs. 28) but also because the one who sent him is with him and has not left him alone.¹⁶⁰ The thought is the same as that of 8:16, 18, which includes the formula “I and he who sent me.” It is that unity with the Father that constitutes the basis both of the “I am he” and of the fact that, as the Son, Jesus always does what is pleasing to the Father (see the comments on 5:19; 6:38).¹⁶¹

The significance of this pericope is much like that of the preceding (vss. 12-20). Their starting points are different (vss. 12, 21), but the focus of both is Jesus’ identity as the one sent by the Father, specifically that identity as the object both of his self-revelation and of the opposition and incomprehension of the Jewish leaders, the Pharisees. Jesus makes ever sharper and more urgent pronouncements: “I and he who sent me,” “I am he” (vss. 16, 18, 24, 28), and “the Jews’ ” questions become stronger: “Where is your Father?” “Who are you?” (vss. 19, 25). Jesus presses them to take a stand in view of his approaching departure, speaks in increasingly explicit language of the consequences of their unbelief (vss. 21ff., 28), and wonders out loud whether it still makes sense to continue the dialogue (vs. 25b), since all the conditions for fruitful exchange are lacking (vss. 19b, 23, 27). All these components of the dialogue point to the fact that time was running out. The cross is becoming visible in the attitude of the Jews and in Jesus’ words to them (vs. 28). What follows will bring out these motifs even more vividly.

8:30-47

The Seed of Abraham and the Identity of the Father

30, 31 Some expositors think it is better to take vs. 30 with what precedes and to understand “the Jews who believed” of vs. 31 as referring to different people than the “many” who believed according to vs. 30. The reason for this is that after the positive statement about the “many” who believed after Jesus spoke “these words” one does not expect him to address them with harsh words like those in vss. 37, 39-47, 50, 55, nor does one expect such people to make plans to kill him (vs. 59). Those who assume a break between vs. 30 and vs. 31 have attempted to make credible the notion that those Jesus speaks to in vss. 21-29(-30) were much less hostile than those in vss. 31ff.¹⁶² They also think, then, that this difference comes out in the distinction between those who “believe in” Jesus in vs. 30 and those who “believe” him (dative) in vs. 31.¹⁶³

It is questionable, however, whether one can attach to these differences such decisive significance, if any at all. Generally speaking, the incomprehension in relation to Jesus in vss. 13-29 is not less than in vss. 31-59, though it is true that the conflict between Jesus and “the Jews” is assuming ever more serious forms. Whether one should, on the basis of the different ways “believe” is used, distinguish between “believers” and “sympathizers” is strongly questioned by most exegetes.¹⁶⁴

But not much is gained by that question for an understanding of the real problem, which is how we get from this belief to the statements that follow in vss. 33ff., which are striking even if addressed just to “sympathizers.” If we avoid forced solutions,¹⁶⁵ we still have to assume that what at first seems to be a problem really brings us to the focus of the entire passage by showing that “the Jews” in conflict with Jesus are not just his obvious enemies but also, as time progresses, those who earlier “believed” in him and joined him as disciples. This reversal did not occur in a single dialogue situation—from one day to the next, so to speak. The conspicuous perfect tense in vs. 31, “those among the Jews who had believed in him,”¹⁶⁶ though it does refer back to vs. 30 and the believers mentioned there, certainly does not refer to those people alone. Vs. 30 reflects one (or more) specific situations(s): “As Jesus said these things to them” or—as the present participle¹⁶⁷ may indicate—“When he spoke to them in this manner, many believed in him.” But vs. 31 speaks of such people more in general: Jews who over time had begun to follow Jesus as “disciples.” It does so in order to indicate the reason that they ultimately turned away from him and against him, which was his absolute claim that faith in him was the only means by which they could become “free.” This so struck at the root of their self-awareness as the “seed of Abraham” that their faith in Jesus changed into hostility. Vss. 30 and 31 are therefore not intended as a snapshot of a particular moment in time. They serve, rather, to show why many among the Jews who first believed in Jesus nevertheless finally turned against him (cf. also 6:60, 66).

I fail to see why this picture should not be applicable to developments occurring during Jesus’ ministry but must rather be assigned to the Evangelist’s concern only for what was taking place in and around the later church. Expositors who favor this opinion base it in part on the perfect tense in vs. 31a, which is said to refer to people who had long been considered believers and disciples (cf. Ac. 15:5; 21:20) and who should therefore be located among the Jewish Christians in John’s own time (and “community”), people who, perhaps because of Jewish counterpropaganda, were in danger of lapsing from their faith in Christ.¹⁶⁸ Others think here of Jews who believed in Jesus but had not joined the Christian community (not Jewish Christians, therefore, but Christian Jews) and who were not prepared to accept the implications of the absolute significance of Christ—specifically with regard to their Abrahamic descent.¹⁶⁹

As the Evangelist wrote, he undoubtedly had in mind the situation of the Christians for whom he wrote (20:31), and that situation was shaped in large measure by the conflict between church and synagogue, a conflict focused on the absolute significance of Jesus as the Christ. But it is quite another matter to say that the discussion with believing Jews referred to in the present pericope can only be understood against that later historical background. If it did, the Evangelist’s entire presentation would have a schizophrenic character. How could he ascribe to the Jews of the pericope things that apply only to Jews of Jesus’ day, such as “you seek to kill me” (vss. 37, 40)? In other words, how can the “two levels” in the Gospel run through each other without repeatedly incurring anachronisms and incongruities?¹⁷⁰ Furthermore, what are regarded as descriptions of groups and relationships inside and outside the later church community are so vague and so open to a variety of interpretations that attempts on that basis to construe a somewhat plausible picture of the later church have hardly any support in the text, with however much acuteness and resourcefulness they are undertaken.¹⁷¹

On the basis of the text before us one can, in my opinion, draw no other conclusion with regard to the intent of the Evangelist than that the actual and deepest reason for the rejection of Jesus by the Jewish leaders and large groups of Jewish people lay in the absolute character of Jesus’ self-revelation as the Christ and the Son of God. It is self-evident that this antithesis retained its permanent relevance in the preaching of the gospel, not only to Israel but to the entire world, but that does not mean that it arose only in the later development between church and synagogue and did not have its decisive beginning for all later time in the confrontation between the historical Jesus and the Israel of his day.

31b Jesus’ exhortation to those who had evidenced their faith in him in the first place concerns the necessity of perseverance: “if you continue in my word.” The expression “continue in” is characteristic of the Fourth Gospel and occurs there in all sorts of combinations and meanings. What is meant by “continuing in Jesus’ word” is expressed elsewhere by “his word abiding in you” (5:38), the first referring of course to the activity, perseverance, and faithfulness of believers, the second to the reciprocal effect that the word has on them. See also the comments on 6:56, where the reciprocal “abides in me, and I in him” occurs in one and the same utterance.

Only by thus persevering will they “truly” be Jesus’ disciples. The emphasis lies on “truly” (RSV, NRSV) or “really” (NIV). The genuineness of their discipleship must prove itself in persevering continuance in the word of Jesus and in doing his word (cf. 13:35; 15:8).¹⁷² The emphasis that Jesus places on this continuance in his word and the dependence of the reality of discipleship that he places on it are in accord with what we read elsewhere of his distancing himself from the large numbers of people who counted themselves among his followers (cf. 2:24ff.) and with the experience he had already had with such people (6:60). After all, “he himself knew what was in humankind” (2:25), as he also “knew from the first who did not believe” (6:64). The warning in vs. 31 thus constitutes a significant, one would almost say ominous, introduction to the reversal that happens immediately after in the attitude of those to whom Jesus speaks here (vs. 33) and to the sharp reaction with which he responds to it (vss. 37ff.).

32, 33 But awaiting Jesus’ “true” disciples is the promise that they “will know the truth.” “Truth” here is not general or philosophical truth but the trustworthy knowledge of God that is realized in its fullness in the coming of Jesus Christ (cf. the comments on 1:14, 17; 3:21; 5:33).¹⁷³ It is the truth that “came” through Jesus Christ, that became flesh and blood in him (1:14, 17), that he therefore is (14:6), and that is referred to again and again in the rest of this chapter (vss. 40, 44, 45). It is based on what Jesus himself “heard from God” (vs. 40) and as such is God’s gift to humanity. Corresponding with it is “knowledge” of the truth, not merely theoretical insight but understanding, gained by experience, of who God wants to be for people in Jesus; hence also insight (and not only an indefinite or emotional experience) into the how and what of the truth, how it is obtained and what it implies; a “knowledge” therefore that also consists in observing and doing the truth (cf. 3:21).

The salvific power of the truth is further described here as liberating (the only time this concept occurs in the Gospel of John).¹⁷⁴ The freedom meant is not that of a person to manage his life free of all the ties that might hinder him in the development of his own “identity” or “authority.” That, after all, would mean no more than that such a person has within himself a freedom that he merely needs to discover and maintain against everything and everyone who would hinder him in the exercise of this selfhood. The reference is rather to a freedom that a person does not possess within himself, even if he thinks otherwise and attempts to live by that illusion. It must be granted to him as a reality coming from the outside, in which he participates by “birth from above” and that thus makes him free. In vss. 34ff. Jesus explains this freedom further.

That does not happen, however, before (vs. 33) the Jews, on hearing Jesus say that freedom still has to be granted to them, erupt in lively protest. With great emphasis they object that as the seed of Abraham they have never been anyone’s slaves. It becomes immediately clear, as a result, what is lacking in their faith in Jesus. They were prepared to accept him and grant him credence when he spoke to them of God (cf. 3:2). But that faith had to fit into the framework of their Jewishness and could not be allowed to violate what was fundamental for them in that Jewishness. And such a violation occurred, to their way of thinking, when they heard from Jesus that they still had to become free. The freedom of which they speak cannot be construed politically.¹⁷⁵ For they could hardly say that as a nation they had never sighed under foreign bondage. Their protest rather arose from a sense of spiritual superiority as children of Abraham chosen by God out of all the nations, and thus a sense of being exempt from any servant relationship to others (cf. Mt. 3:9; Ro. 2:17-20).¹⁷⁶ They rightly sensed that, by the way Jesus made their freedom contingent on faith in him, he was calling into question this inalienable privilege. Therefore, there they met the boundary of faith in him—a boundary they were not prepared to cross.

34 Over against this Jewish self-awareness, Jesus, with great authority (“truly, truly”), poses another point of departure: whoever commits sin is a slave (to sin)¹⁷⁷ and therefore cannot boast of freedom. The point is, of course, that this rule is valid also for Jews, and, as will become evident, that determines the nature of the sonship on which they base themselves. We can ignore here to what degree Jesus found points of contact for this statement in the Jewish views of sin and its power over humans.¹⁷⁸ He was not participating in a theological dispute over the freedom of the will. He positioned himself, rather, in the fullness of his messianic consciousness, against the illusion that as children of Abraham they had no need of the freedom he offered and were fundamentally different from all others in this regard. Accordingly, his pronouncement in vs. 34 agrees much more with what Paul says (Ro. 6:16ff.; 7:7ff.) about the superior power of sin and the insufficiency of the law in the face of it. Still, the angle here is different, not that of the powerlessness of the law (cf. Ro 8:3) but of the misplaced appeal to being the seed of Abraham, as though that by itself guaranteed freedom from the bondage of sin.

35, 36 Before proceeding to discuss the groundlessness of this appeal, Jesus develops the metaphor further, speaking of the hopeless situation of slaves unless they are given freedom from above. To that end he compares the position of the domestic slave with that of the son of the house. The slave does not remain in the house “forever.” He cannot assert permanently valid claims to the privileges the house affords him (cf. Gl. 4:30). The son can. The son has permanent and unique rights, and he has disposal over the slave’s freedom, which Jesus refers to in vs. 36. There Jesus proceeds directly from the metaphor to its referent by saying “you.” Thus he identifies the position of his hearers with that of slaves and points them to himself as the only one who can make them free: “If the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” Hence the point of the metaphor in vss. 35 and 36 is not that the Jews were only provisionally incorporated into the divine dispensation of grace or that Jesus is “the one seed of Abraham.”¹⁷⁹ It is, rather, that freedom can only be received as a gift and that the (divinely appointed) Son is the only one with power to dispense the gift.

Verses 37 and 38 refer back to vs. 33, where the Jews claim that as the seed of Abraham they are free. Jesus begins his words on this subject in a radical way. He acknowledges the essential connection between fatherhood and sonship. But whereas the Jews, on the basis of their descent from Abraham, believe they can infer their freedom as his children, Jesus reverses this logic and turns it against the Jews: what the children “do” (cf. vs. 34) points to who their father is. Step by step through a long line of reasoning, he moves toward his conclusion.

The beginning of vs. 37 is concessive: “I know.…” Of course Jesus acknowledges that as Jews his opponents are descendants of Abraham. But in the same breath he adds: “yet you seek to kill me.” And he explains their wanting to kill him by saying “because my word finds no place in you.”¹⁸⁰ That Jesus attributes to all of them indiscriminately the intent to kill him is (in connection with vs. 31) certainly striking and hard to explain satisfactorily.¹⁸¹ The same thing occurs in 7:19, but there, unlike here, it is vehemently contradicted. Nonetheless, “seek to kill me” is heard again and again through these chapters (cf. 7:1, 19, 25 [30]; 8:40) and goes back to 5:18, the starting point for the entire confrontation between Jesus and “the Jews.” It constitutes the ever more clearly visible background of these dialogues and thus anticipates the outcome of the conflict and shows its already lethal character.

It is against that background that we must understand Jesus’ identification—in their fundamental choice—of the many who have followed him but are presently turning against him with those who have sought his death and in what follows emerge as his real dialogue partners (“the Jews,” vss. 48, 51ff.). Of course, this does not mean that all who earlier or later turned away from Jesus did this partly with the intent to kill him. Nevertheless, in this dialogue, in which their privileged position as seed of Abraham and people of God is fundamentally at stake, those who have followed him choose, not his side, but that of his implacable adversaries. It is also in this context that Jesus again picks up, and takes to the limit of its logic, the question of “fatherhood” as that which at bottom separates him from them.

In two parallel sentences (vs. 38) Jesus begins to point out, by reference to his Father and theirs, the source of his and their speech and action: “I speak of what I have seen with the Father” (cf. comments on 3:11); “you also [evidently] do what you have heard from the father.” Although the reference is to two different fathers, that is not brought out and—remarkably enough—in both sentences the possessive pronoun (“my,” “your”) is lacking.¹⁸² As a result all the emphasis falls on fatherhood as such, namely as the decisive origin and background and hence also as the standard both for Jesus’ speech and for what, in response, the Jews “do”: “Only when the essence of the Father is disclosed will the character of the action manifest itself. Hence the relationship to the Father determines the action. That applies both to the Jews and to Jesus (5:19).”¹⁸³

Obviously, considering the nature of their action (vs. 37), this was calculated to make the Jews think. Still, Jesus only arrives step by step at the final, inescapable conclusion concerning their “father.” Before saying what he says in vs. 44, he offers the Jews an opportunity to draw that conclusion on their own.

39, 40 Their reply reflects irritation rather than reflection. They make no protest against his accusation. Whatever he thought he could say about his father and whatever consequences he thought he had to attach to their not continuing in his word, for them one thing was beyond and above all dispute: that their father was Abraham and no one else.

However, Jesus persists in asserting a connection between “fatherhood” and “works” and now declares openly that their appeal to Abraham would be valid only if they did “the works of Abraham.”¹⁸⁴ Hence his opposition is not to Abraham, nor to an appeal to Abraham, but to a supposed sonship¹⁸⁵ of Abraham that no longer displays the spiritual characteristics of Abraham. But (vs. 40) “now”—where are they? Instead of doing the works of Abraham they try to kill Jesus, “a man who has told you the truth that I heard from God.” “Man” (ἄνθρωπος) has no special emphasis here; it is used rather in the general sense of “someone” (but cf. “murderer,” ἀνθρωποκτóνος, in vs. 44). Jesus speaks here openly of God as the Father from whom he “heard” the truth (see the comments on 5:19; 3:11). But having said that, he has thereby indicated to them the depth of the chasm that separates them from Abraham: “this is not what Abraham did.” For Abraham’s “work” consisted in attending to the voice of God and so becoming the father of Israel and of many nations (cf. Gn. 15:6; 17:5; Ro. 9:16ff.; Gl. 3:7, 29).

41 Therefore, in view of the works they do, only one conclusion is possible: they must have another, a “distinct,” father of their own: “You do the works of your father!” Jesus still does not name that father, but from the emphasis with which he speaks of “your” father and after what in vs. 40 was said of Abraham it is clear what he has in mind: their works betray a father whose “work” is to do what they are now doing: to kill (vss. 40, 44).

The Jews’ offended response shows that they are beginning to grasp Jesus’ intent. Still, even now they do not react to his continued reference to their works as the criterion for the identity of their father. But their reaction to the implication that they must have another father, a strange father, is all the more vehement: “We were not born of fornication.”¹⁸⁶ Their spiritual descent is in no way as suspect or obscure as he apparently assumes and suggests. They are not pagans! For that reason they now reach out beyond Abraham: “We have one Father, even God.” With the word “one” they point to the monotheistic basis of their religion and national existence (Dt. 6:4). Not that they thus relinquish the claim to descent from Abraham, but behind Abraham was God who called Abraham and made Abraham’s descendants his own children, the children of one God. God was, therefore, their “one Father,” Israel’s highest defender and final court of appeal, even when Abraham could no longer help them (cf. Is. 63:16).

Although in ancient times the relationship between God and Israel was relatively infrequently described as that of a father and his children,¹⁸⁷ still already in the Old Testament we see repeated appeal to it under certain circumstances, in words of both God and the people. This portrayal of the relationship is not especially related to Abraham but more generally to Israel as God’s creation (Dt. 32:6; Is. 64:8; Jr. 3:4), to God’s covenant with Israel (Jr. 3:19; Ml. 2:10), and to God’s rule and kingship over Israel (Is. 63:16; Ps. 89:27; 2 Sa. 7:14). Jesus’ description of his adversaries as children of an alien father would be to their minds the most offensive accusation he could advance against them.

42 In the same manner in which in vs. 39 Jesus rejected their appeal to being children of Abraham, he now rejects their claim that God is their father. If God were their father, that, too, would be evident in that their works would be God’s works (cf. 6:28, 29): “If God were your Father, you would love me.” Jesus mentions “love” as the absolute opposite of what they in fact did, which was to hate and to seek to kill him. “Love” does not always have to refer to emotional or personal affection but can also be used of taking someone’s side or opting in favor of something (cf. 3:19; 1 Jn. 3:14b). The idea here is recognition on the basis of spiritual kinship (cf. 1 Jn 5:1; Jn. 7:17). If God were their Father, they would, acting from within that relationship of kinship, not oppose Jesus but of course accept him: “For I proceeded and came forth from God.”

This “proceeding from God,”¹⁸⁸ as the conclusion of vs. 42 shows (cf. also 17:8, “thou didst send me,” parallel to “I came from you”), does not refer to what in systematic theology is called the intertrinitarian relationship (the “eternal procession of the Son from the Father”). Nevertheless this procession does presuppose an antecedent existence with God (see the comments on 5:19) and a “descent from heaven” (cf. 6:38). Hence “proceeded” comes before “came forth.”

The word translated “came forth” has a certain solemn sound and is often used for the “dawning” of great events, the appearance of important personages and the like, in the New Testament often in an eschatological connection.¹⁸⁹ If God, therefore, were the father of the Jews who deny Jesus’ claims, this would not have escaped them, and the plan to get rid of him would be the last thing to occur to them. Hence, again, “I came not of my own accord,” which comes back in these dialogues like a refrain and serves as Jesus’ defense against the notion that he arrogated to himself the authority with which he spoke (cf. 5:17; 6:41ff.; 7:27ff.).

Verse 43 pursues in still another way the idea that the Jews have a father other than God and thus constitutes a transition to the high point of the conflict in vs. 44. Jesus asks: “Why do you not understand my language?” Jesus himself answers: “because you cannot bear to hear my word.” This somewhat tautological-sounding argument becomes clear if one understands the word translated here by “language” as referring to the unique way in which Jesus keeps speaking of “having come,” “proceeding from the Father,” having been “sent by the Father,” and the like. That “language” or “manner of speaking”¹⁹⁰ confused or offended his opponents over and over (cf. 8:19, 22, 25; cf. also 6:41; 7:35; 3:9, 10). Jesus’ answer is also stated in loaded language: they heard the sounds but lacked the ability to “hear.” They did not hear with faith in their hearts (cf. 5:24). And for that reason they could not understand his word in its true meaning. It was for them like a strange language because the world from which and the Father from whom Jesus spoke were not theirs.

44 This last point is driven home with utter clarity and sharpness: “You are of the father the devil.” Again, as in vs. 38, Jesus speaks of “the father” without the possessive pronoun, to indicate the background and dynamic out of which they speak and act. Now, however, abandoning his previous reserve, he adds (epexegetically): “the devil.”¹⁹¹ He uses the word, not as invective (the way they declared him demon-possessed), but to open their eyes to the actual source of their impulses, the real father of their works. That cannot be Abraham (vs. 39) or God (vs. 42); it is “your father’s desires” that they plan to carry out. For from the beginning of the world he was a murderer, and it was he who from then on perverted the truth. This refers, of course, to the event in paradise in which the devil brought death on humankind by falsehood and deception (cf. 1 Jn. 3:8; Ro. 7:11). His desires consist in murder and falsehood.

From this point on, in connection with vs. 32 (cf. vs. 40), the emphasis falls on that perversion of the truth. The expression (literally) “he has not stood in the truth” means that the truth was not his starting point or standpoint¹⁹² and must also be understood in connection with the Genesis story. For when the devil approached humankind he held out, not the truth (of the word of God), but the lie, thus deceiving and destroying humans (Gn. 3:1ff.). The conclusion of vs. 44 shows that when he did that the devil did not just incidentally deviate from the truth but was being himself: “For there is no truth in him. When he lies he speaks his native language” (NIV). His speech is by definition false. For his name is “liar,” and he is the father of falsehood. In that connection one must not just think of dishonesty or mendacity in a moral sense, for the lie here is the antithesis of what in vs. 32 is called the truth. It is the contradiction of the word of God and therefore by implication enslaving and deadly (Gn. 3:3, 4). Therefore “lie” does not refer here to a distinct act that can be immediately rectified but to a transindividual power of deception with paternity of its own, not from God the Father but from the father, the devil.

On the meaning of ὑμεῖς ἐκ τοῦ πατρòς τοῦ διαβóλου ἐστέ there is much divergence of opinion among expositors. Some think that grammatically these words can only be translated, “You are of the father of the devil.” And even if there should be a grammatical error here, the conclusion of the verse, ὅτι ψεύστης ἐστὶν καὶ ὁ πατὴρ αὐτοῦ, can only mean: “for his (the devil’s) father is also a liar.” However, though in other literature speculation exists concerning the origin (and the father) of the devil,¹⁹³ in the present context, as in the entire New Testament, the notion of such a father is totally foreign. The reference here is obviously to the devil himself. The apparently difficult textual construction presents no problems if it is viewed not in isolation but as the endpoint of a line of thought that began earlier. The words τοῦ πατρóς occur here deliberately, as in vs. 38, without the possessive pronoun (“your”) and therefore as a denotation of fatherhood as such, which is (finally, as the only possible conclusion of the preceding line of thought) identified as that of the devil; τοῦ διαβóλου is appositional:¹⁹⁴ “you are of the father, the devil.” That is, the father of whom you give proof of being children is the devil. Finally, καὶ ὁ πατὴρ αὐτοῦ at the end of vs. 44 need present no problem if one understands them to refer to the devil himself as father of the ψεῦδος mentioned in the same sentence.¹⁹⁵

One arrives at totally different conclusions if, following Dahl,¹⁹⁶ one takes the “murderer from the beginning” to be Cain, the first murderer. According to Dahl, there is in the background here an ancient legend to the effect that Cain was not the son of Adam, but of Eve and a fallen angel. This is said to explain why Jesus here calls the Jews who seek to kill him the children of the devil, just as Cain, the devil’s son, killed Abel. Some leave the text intact, in which case the devil remains the “murderer from the beginning,” not because of his temptation of the first people in Paradise but because of (the devil’s child) Cain.¹⁹⁷ But others, including Dahl and Reim,¹⁹⁸ modify the text so that “the murderer from the beginning” is not the devil but Cain. The original idea here (and already in vss. 38, 41) is said to be that not the devil but Cain was the father of the Jews. Reim appeals specifically to τὰς ἐπιθυμίας (“the desires” of your father), which in Gn. 4:7 is used of Cain, and to vs. 48, where Jesus is made out to be a Samaritan, because the theory of Israel’s descent from Cain was advocated by the Samaritans.

But even apart from the radical textual modifications one has to effect to support this view, the notion that throughout this passage the “father” of the Jews Jesus had in mind was Cain seems to me to be alien to the text and too lacking in support there to be credible. Furthermore, the text as we have it is clear enough, all the more so if one also takes into consideration the pronouncement in 1 Jn. 3:8 (cf. also 1 Jn. 3:15).

45 What follows from this is that where the devil exercises his fatherhood there is no room for truth: “but I”—“I” is in the emphatic position, referring to the one who speaks with God as his father¹⁹⁹—“because I tell the truth, you do not believe me.” Jesus does not say “in spite of the fact that” but “because”—the ultimate absurdity, it seems. For what else would a person wish (and claim) to believe than the truth? Still, what he says is intended precisely as it is stated. Because they are children of the devil, who is false, therefore it is precisely the truth in Jesus that makes them so averse to his word and hinders them from believing. What is at stake is not something more or less within one truth, not two separate roads of faith finally leading to the same destination, but the absolute either-or of truth and falsehood.

The two questions in vs. 46 say all this in still another way:²⁰⁰ The first asks not just whether there is something in Jesus’ conduct that makes him unbelievable in their eyes. Here “sin” is the proper work of the devil (cf. 1 Jn. 3:8: “He who commits sin is of the devil; for the devil has sinned from the beginning”). Things having come to such a pass between Jesus and the Jews, who among them is able to demonstrate that he is on “the wrong side,” that in this contest he represents sin, contradicts God, and incites others to do evil as the devil did and still does? One might perhaps say that, after vs. 45, this is a question that can hardly be posed to the Jews and that the answer to it is obvious only to faith. But by stating the issue in such sharp terms (namely that he is possibly the great deceiver, the advocate of sin, and hence worthy of death) Jesus once more lays on them the full burden of proof. They can do no less than furnish that proof if they would own their responsibility toward him and toward the God to whom they appeal. Hence the challenge comes to them: “Which of you?” And hence once more the alternative is put to them: “If (however) I tell the truth, why do you not believe me?”

47 After all that has preceded, the posing of this last question (vs. 46b) is its own answer. And with that Jesus draws the awesome, and only possible, conclusion from the entire dispute: “He who is of God hears the words of God.” The fatherhood out of which a person lives determines how that person “hears.” To be “of God,” that is, to be “born” of God, to be born “from above” (1:13; 3:3), is to hear, understand, and believe the words that God has spoken in this world. Therefore, despite all the words extended to them, Jesus’ disputants do not “hear” because they are not of God. A clearer or more severe conclusion is hardly conceivable.

8:48-59

“Before Abraham Was, I Am”

48 The pericope that now follows is linked closely with the preceding. Again the fundamental position of Abraham surfaces, but now from a different viewpoint. Vs. 48 ties in with Jesus’ concluding statement in the preceding dispute. To the Jews this means the end of every meaningful continuation of the dialogue. They do not respond further to Jesus’ words. Could he not understand that, by speaking as he did, he was in their eyes nothing but a Samaritan and demon-possessed?²⁰¹ As a “Samaritan” he would be one with whom fellowship was impossible (cf. comments on 4:22). Because of his refusal to acknowledge his Jewish audience as the seed of Abraham, Jesus was in their eyes no better than the Samaritans, who, on account of their worship on Mount Gerizim and their encroachment on Israel’s national existence, were avoided by Jews as despisers of true religion and as enemies. With “you are possessed” they asserted that for his—to their minds—boundless arrogance they had no other explanation than that he—not they!—was under the sway of the devil.

49, 50 Jesus’ answer, “I am not possessed, but honor my father,” indicates that they continue to misunderstand him if they think that he is out to advance his own honor and that the authority with which he speaks to them is based on (diabolical) conceit. He is doing nothing other than “honoring his father,” that is, doing justice to God in the world. They call him names and spurn him for it: “and you dishonor me.” But he (“Yet I,” vs. 50) will not follow them in that and attempt to defend his honor against them. That he would do if he were seeking his own honor, which is precisely what they think he is doing. For that he again appeals to God: “there is One who seeks it and he will be the judge.” He himself will not have to defend his honor; he can leave that to the Father (cf. 8:26). And judgment issuing from that tribunal will answer to what people, including Jesus’ disputants, have done with his words, which are words spoken by one sent by the Father. That judgment is already being realized now (cf. 3:18; 5:32) and will be fully realized in the glorification of the Son by the Father (cf. vs. 54; 12:28; 17:4).

51 However, just as now Jesus’ word will prove powerful in relation to those who reject and dishonor him, so it will demonstrate its validity also to those who keep it. With great authority, totally in accord with the opening statement in vs. 31, this is once more expressed and confirmed here. Instead of saying “continue in my word” (vs. 31) here, Jesus says, “keep my word.” In both cases the reference is to perseverance in and observance of Jesus’ word (cf. 15:20; 17:6, etc.). In vs. 32 the promised fruit of this is knowledge of the truth, while here it is never undergoing death (“see”; cf. vs. 52: “taste death”). The reference is to what is said in 5:24ff., there also with solemn emphasis and at great length, about receiving eternal life. Those who believe in Jesus’ word already have eternal life; death is no longer facing them but behind them; when they pass away, they will not be handed over to death (see the comments on 5:24ff.). It is remarkable that in this connection Jesus makes this statement with so much emphasis. He lays bare, in all its radicalness and quite forcefully, the conflict between the Jews and himself and thus casts many of them into a crisis of faith (vss. 30, 31). But still the strong appeal that he here, as in vss. 31, 32, and 36, permanently extends to them is undeniable and unmistakable. One cannot say, therefore, that he is speaking here only to those who have already been won by him and that “the Jews” here and elsewhere in the Gospel merely represent the massa perditionis who die in their sins and from whom no one can any longer be won for Jesus.²⁰² The case is rather that even now no one remains excluded, but to the last the “Truly, truly, I say to you” remains in effect also in its salvific significance.

52, 53 To the Jews, however, this pronouncement is just one more proof of Jesus’ boundless arrogance. They say that they are now completely persuaded²⁰³ that he is possessed. Again they appeal to Abraham as the person by whom they measure all things. They now add “the prophets” as the great emissaries of God in the past. If Abraham died—according to Jewish pronouncements the most cogent proof of the inevitability of death²⁰⁴—as also the prophets, how could Jesus’ word safeguard anyone from the bitterness of death?²⁰⁵

Again they attack Jesus (vs. 53) on the point of what most arouses their opposition: “Certainly you do not claim to be more than our father Abraham, who²⁰⁶ after all died, as did also the prophets?” In a way this reaction is the same as that of the Samaritan woman (4:12) with regard to “our father Jacob.” That Jesus goes beyond all that which is holy and inviolable to the Jews in their past and that forms the basis of their religion and existence as a nation is intolerable for them; that he does not wipe out that past or position himself against it but is its secret and its fulfillment (cf. vss. 56ff.) remains totally outside their purview. All they can ascertain in him is arrogance and self-conceit: “Who really do you claim to be?” The language of this question was used earlier in a directly accusing sense (5:18) and will come back in what follows (cf. 10:33; 19:7). The question expresses indirectly what constituted and remained the real basis of the conflict between Jesus and “the Jews,” namely their accusation that he made himself equal with God. For who can safeguard a person from death but God alone?

54, 55 Again (cf. vs. 50) Jesus rejects their accusation of self-glorification, again with an appeal to the Father. If he glorified himself, his glory would not mean anything: “It is my Father who glorifies me.” Jesus’ opponents should realize this, since it is the Father “of whom you say that he is your God.” If they really knew that God, then they would hear his voice in Jesus’ words and deeds.

But²⁰⁷ (vs. 55) they do not know God, a statement we have heard before (7:28; 8:19), followed here (as in 7:28-29) by “but I know him.” Jesus does not say that they serve another God but that they do not know the one they call their God. For that very reason he cannot ignore their accusation of self-glorification, but (again) must pose in all its rigor the antithesis between them and him: “If I said I do not know him, I would be like you: a liar.” But he will not yield to that (diabolical) temptation, whatever the cost: “but I do know him and I keep his word.” That word includes the charge the Father has given him (cf. 10:18; 12:49; 15:10). It is not self-glorification that impels him to act but obedience to the one who sent him.

56 On this basis Jesus now also rejects the idea that they could bring Abraham into the lists against him. The opposite is true. Jesus’ statement about Abraham here, though most remarkable, is not entirely clear. “Abraham your father rejoiced that he was to see my day; he saw it and was glad.” The word translated “rejoice” is often used in a religious sense for joy in God, especially for eschatological salvation.²⁰⁸ The first part of the statement is to be understood then as a general characterization of Abraham’s significance as the receiver of God’s promise of descendants and as the father of believers. The expectation of fulfillment of that promise is then characterized by Jesus as a rejoicing in that Abraham would see “my day.” What, therefore, God promised Abraham in his descendants, that Jesus draws into the light of the messianic-eschatological future, which in his coming has begun its fulfillment (“my day”).²⁰⁹

The question remains, however, what is meant by the concluding words: “and he saw it and was glad.” Some believe these words refer to the fulfillment of God’s promise already during Abraham’s life, namely in the birth of Isaac. “When Isaac was born, Abraham prophetically and in faith already saw in the day of his birth the birth of the Messiah … whose coming was heralded by the birth of Isaac.”²¹⁰ “Rejoicing” could then be linked to Abraham’s “laughter” when Isaac’s birth was announced (Gn. 17:17). But the significance of this “laughter” remains somewhat enigmatic, though the rabbis (and Philo) saw in it the joy of Abraham’s faith.²¹¹ Others refer to ancient Jewish traditions according to which, when God made a covenant with Abraham (“between the halves,” Gn. 15:9ff.), he revealed to him the most distant future.²¹² However, there is no evidence in those traditions of rejoicing on Abraham’s part.

Many other expositors are of the opinion, therefore, that it is hard to find a point in Abraham’s earthly life at which “and he saw that day and was glad” is applicable as (the beginning of) the fulfillment of God’s promise. They therefore would read this last statement (vs. 56b) as referring to Abraham’s anticipation of the coming of the Messiah (cf. 12:41).²¹³ But then it becomes hard (in vs. 56a and 56b) still to distinguish between “was to see” and “saw,” which does seem to be intentional. Accordingly, others think that the “seeing” and “rejoicing” in vs. 56b occur after the advent of Jesus in the heavenly Paradise, where Abraham empathizes with the fortunes of his people on earth.²¹⁴ But the idea that here, without any further qualification, the reference is to Abraham’s “seeing” in Paradise seems somewhat hazardous. It is improbable because in what follows the focus is on Jesus’ contemporaneity with the historical Abraham, not on that of the heavenly Abraham with the historical Jesus (vs. 58). For that reason, though the choice is difficult, there is more to be said for the view that Abraham’s joyful anticipation of the promise made to him and of its (provisional) fulfillment in the birth of Isaac is placed here in the perspective of the eschatological salvation that has dawned with the coming (the “day”) of Jesus.²¹⁵

The main thing, however, is that here Jesus again turns the Jews’ appeal to Abraham on its head. Not only does he demonstrate what bad children of Abraham they have been: what they now consistently reject in cynicism and unbelief Abraham long ago fervently longed for and “saw” with “rejoicing.” In his overpowering messianic consciousness, Jesus thus points out anew the salvation-historical background against which his coming and work must be viewed and understood. His appearance is not an isolated, incidental event that, whatever greatness it may display, still has to be believed and understood solely for and by itself. Still less is it a display of demonic conceit or perverted messianism; rather, it announced itself in the earliest history of the people who heard God’s voice and believed it. It is the point of intersection at which all the lines of God’s speaking up to that point and of human believing response thereto come together and which must be understood and believed as their fulfillment. This is not a failure to do justice to Abraham but rather a vindication of Abraham’s believing anticipation. What was true of Jacob, Moses, and all “others” who have “sowed” and “labored” was also true of Abraham (see the comments on 4:12, 37, 38; 5:46; 6:31ff.), namely that the “law”—in which all of these have their place—was given through Moses but that “grace and truth came through Jesus Christ” (1:17).

57 For the Jews, who again cannot get past the mere sound of the words (cf. vs. 22; 7:35; 6:42, 52; 4:11; 3:4), Jesus’ pronouncement is an instance not just of conceit but also of the ultimate absurdity. How can a person not yet fifty years old have seen Abraham? It is striking that—unlike Jesus in vs. 56—they speak of Jesus’ seeing Abraham and not the reverse.²¹⁶ “Fifty years” is apparently a (generously estimated) round number for an age that Jesus has not yet reached.²¹⁷ Although other explanations of this number have been attempted, the most obvious (and least artificial) is that by naming this number the Jews only intended to expose the absurdity of Jesus’ statement: how could he, who was less than half a century old, embrace the many centuries that separated him from Abraham?

58 It is, however, precisely with this seeming absurdity that Jesus’ answer connects (cf. 6:52, 53). Once more—and now to conclude the entire dispute—he uses the assertion formula (“Truly, truly, I say to you”) to emphasize that what his adversaries hold to be the height of folly is in fact the final and deepest reality underlying their conflict over Abraham: “before Abraham was [born], I am.” It is, of course, most striking that over against Abraham’s birth stands the absolute “I am,” which is not bound to a specific time. Here also, as in vs. 24, many expositors think that the “I am” reflects Ex. 3:14 or texts like Is. 43:10. This would imply Jesus’ self-identification with the divine “I.” But the objections mentioned in our comments on vs. 24 also apply here.²¹⁸ Bultmann points to the Logos: “The ἐγώ of which Jesus speaks as the Revealer is the ‘I’ of the eternal Logos, which was in the beginning, the ‘I’ of the eternal God himself.”²¹⁹ It is questionable, however, whether the reference in the “I am” here is to the ontological category of divine being.

Calvin refers to Hb. 13:8 (“Christ the same yesterday, today, and forever”). He also knows of expositors who think that the “I am” here “simply applies to Christ’s eternal divinity and compare it to that passage of Moses, ‘I am that I am’ (Exod. 3.14).” But Calvin himself wants to give the words a much broader meaning²²⁰ “in that Christ’s power and grace, inasmuch as He is the Redeemer of the world, were common to all ages.”²²¹ After all, Abraham already delighted in just that, as vs. 56 has indicated. And it is also with a view to that that Jesus answered the unbelieving Jews: “Before Abraham was, I am.” Calvin then adds: “Yet that the grace of the Mediator flourished in all ages depended on His eternal Divinity.” Therefore, he continues, “this saying of Christ contains a remarkable statement of His divine essence.”²²²

If one is to do justice to the context of this characteristic pronouncement, then the “I am” will indeed have to be understood with this distinction in mind. Christ’s “mediatorship” is not explicitly referred to here; but the reference to “his day” is all the more clear as that of the eschatological Redeemer promised and sent by God. It is that reality that is denoted by the “I am” and from which it derives its specific meaning. The “I am” is uttered by Jesus, not by a divine person abstracted from the human Jesus; that is—in the language of the prologue—it was uttered by the incarnate Word. It is undoubtedly a statement made by the Word who in the beginning was with God and was God and in the strength of whom Jesus can now say: “before Abraham was I am.” But even so he does not say “I was (there as God),” but present tense “I am,” because in connection with what Abraham “desired to see” and in principle already “saw,” this “I” can be spoken of in no other way than as it became incarnate in Jesus Christ.²²³ And in that sense the “I am” also contains the answer to the Jews’ question: “Are you then greater than our father Abraham?” (vs. 53).

59 For the Jews Jesus’ words were not merely absurd but a reason for stoning him. However they understood Jesus’ statement, it sounded blasphemous to them, like grounds for execution (cf. Lv. 24:11-26).²²⁴ The reference here is not to a judicial act, however, but to an eruption of fury that took the form of an attempt (or threat) to stone Jesus (cf. 10:31). It did not come to that, however, because Jesus left the temple and so eluded them (cf. 12:36).²²⁵ What follows in chs. 9 and 10 tells of Jesus’ continued actions in Jerusalem (cf. also 10:22). Not until 10:42 do we read of Jesus going across the Jordan, and not until 11:54 do we find that Jesus “no longer went about openly among the Jews.” What we have here is the first mention of an attempt to stone him. The conflict was assuming ever sharper forms. But here, too, the truth was that “his hour had not yet come” (7:30).

Reflections on Chapter 8

In ch. 8 Jesus’ confrontation with “the Jews” reaches a stage that it has not yet reached in Gospel and that will not be exceeded in the later dialogues. For good reason this chapter has been described as “a classic summary of the true grounds of the clash between Jesus and the Jews,”²²⁶ and it is especially with reference to the radical pronouncements in ch. 8 that a variety of views have emerged as to the alleged anti-Jewish character of the Fourth Gospel. The discussion of this issue has in recent decades usually been pursued in reference to Johannine “theology.” That is, the object of the research is not “the historical Jesus” or the situation in which he acted and spoke, but rather the aim and motives that prompted the author of the Fourth Gospel to give the dialogues between Jesus and the Jews such a sharply antithetical thrust. In this connection two sorts of conceptions come to the fore.²²⁷

1. According to the first,²²⁸ the Fourth Gospel is a polemical or apologetic pamphlet against Judaism written when Christians and Jews had come to oppose each other as two mutually independent and exclusive groups. The focus was no longer, as with the Synoptic Gospels, on common issues such as those relating to the law (fasting, purity, divorce, and the like) but on the great question of the identity of Jesus. Was he really the Messiah—and that to be understood as the Son of God and the Son of man clothed with all power? Or was his claim unworthy of belief and in effect blasphemous? In that struggle the church was the embattled and threatened party, and the Fourth Gospel sought to shore up the church. To that end it not only placed the divine glory of Christ prominently in the foreground but also contained a sharp refutation of Judaism, or at least of the most representative groups within Judaism. The Gospel’s argument is no longer, as in the Synoptics, against Pharisaic legal formalism (Matthew 23) or, as with Paul, against a teaching of justification on the basis of works of the law. It is, rather, against Jewish disbelief in Jesus as the divinely sent Messiah. That disbelief constitutes the real break between Jews and Christians. In it the Jews demonstrate that they are no longer God’s elect people, the seed of Abraham. In their zeal to kill Jesus they rather manifest themselves to be children of the devil.

In this conception, therefore, the Fourth Gospel is a clear forerunner of later Christian apologies directed against the Jews, such as the dialogue of Justin Martyr with Trypho the Jew. Although in the later (and still continuing) struggle against anti-Semitism some found in the Gospel of John the seeds of later Christian hostility and hatred against the Jews, such a conclusion is certainly not inherent in this understanding of the Fourth Gospel. In all probability the author of the Fourth Gospel was himself a Jew, and the frame of reference of his Gospel makes it likely that those for whom he wrote were mostly Jews. He did in a sense write against “the Jews,” as he often, without making distinctions, called Jesus’ opponents. But he wrote against them as those who had rejected and killed Jesus and who, in their later synagogal communities, adopted an increasingly hostile and aggressive (cf. 16:2) attitude toward the Christian community, which had separated from them. In this connection some expositors believe that it was precisely this bond with, and love for, the Jewish people that prompted the Evangelist to make such harsh pronouncements against its leaders, out of anger that they had so culpably and tragically led his own people astray.²²⁹ Therefore, to call the Fourth Gospel a polemical pamphlet against the Jews is certainly a misconstrual of the goal the Evangelist set for himself.

2. Partly with a view to this problem, others have arrived at a totally different assessment of the so-called anti-Judaism of the Fourth Gospel.²³⁰ In their opinion “the Jews” are in this Gospel representatives, not of their own law-bound religion, but much more of unbelief in general. Some scholars believe that the whole “historical” setting in which the discussions between Jesus and the Jews are set is totally unrealistic, on the one hand, and cannot, on the other hand, be identified with later disputes between church and synagogue. There is hardly any question here, they say, of real “conversations,” or “dialogues.” All that happens is that Jesus witnesses concerning himself; in response “the Jews” do not act as the empirical Jewish nation but as representatives of the “world”; their hostility toward Jesus stands for the “world’s” hatred. The sharpness of the confrontation that marks the relationship between Jesus and “the Jews” in the Fourth Gospel and that culminates in ch. 8 is not, therefore, anti-Judaistic, much less anti-Semitic in the modern racist sense. It is, rather, to be explained in terms of the Fourth Gospel’s radically “dualistic” concept of revelation, the background of which must be located in certain forms of Hellenistic syncretism, specifically in Gnosticism with its absolute dualism in both cosmology and anthropology. That dualism comes to expression at least terminologically in John’s absolute antitheses between “truth and falsehood,” “light and darkness,” “above and below,” “flesh and Spirit,” and “God and devil.” The conversations between Jesus and the Jews are not historical but only “exemplary” representations of that dualism.²³¹

For the evaluation of the confrontation between Jesus and “the Jews” that has reached its culmination, at least for the time being, in ch. 8, both the historical and the spiritual aspects are, it seems to me, of paramount importance.

1. However difficult it will always be to assess, both as literature and as history, the lengthy dialogues between Jesus and the Jews, especially those in chs. 5–8, we must first say that within the framework of the entire Gospel they not only have symbolic meaning but also constitute a specific expression of the historic conflict between Jesus and the Jewish leaders over his identity as the divinely sent Messiah—a conflict that in the end led, and in a sense had to lead, to his violent death. To be sure, this concentration on Jesus’ identity has, with reason, been associated with the continuing confrontation between church and synagogue, which was increasingly focused on that central point, while all sorts of secondary matters at issue between the church and official Judaism were relegated to less important positions. But this does not mean that the real historical background of the dialogues described in the Fourth Gospel should not be located in the life of Jesus himself but only in that of the later church in its threatened existence.

It is clear enough from the other Gospels that during Jesus’ life his mission and identity increasingly called forth questions among Jews (e.g., Mk. 8:27ff. par.; 12:35-37 par.; 14:61ff. par.; Mt. 12:23ff.), though less frequently and directly than in John. There is, therefore, no reason whatever to think that the precisely situated dialogues at Jewish festivals, in or close to the temple, should be based merely on the historicizing of concerns that came up only later. It would be unnatural and incomprehensible if the power with which Jesus spoke and the authority with which (also according to the Synoptics) he acted with regard to the Jewish authorities should not have prompted people repeatedly to call him to account on this point and to ask him, “Who are you?” and “With what authority do you do these things?” (cf. Mk. 11:28ff. and see the comments on vss. 30, 31 above).

2. But that is not the most important thing to be said here. John traces all he has to say concerning Jesus back to the “historical Jesus,” that is, to who Jesus was and not merely to what he became for the faith of the church after his resurrection and under the influence of all sorts of later antithetical developments. But this does not alter the fact that, by centering everything on the person and identity of Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God, the Evangelist in his record of the apostolic witness and the tradition that arose from it went strictly his own way. He was less “historical” than the other Evangelists in that he did not set out to repeat and thereby extend and complete his readers’ knowledge of that tradition, but rather to say what was the great center and sustaining ground in that tradition, namely the divine Sonship of Jesus the Christ.

Most closely associated with all this is the whole character of the Johannine witness, specifically as this takes form in Jesus’ words and dialogues, which function as revelation discourses. Nowhere more impressively than in this chapter does Jesus speak concerning himself, in, for example, the “I am” sayings and in the assertion formula (“Truly, truly, I say to you”) of the one sent by the Father. This discourse does not bear the character of the testimony of the exalted Lord speaking by the mouth of “his servant John,” as in the letters to the seven churches (Revelation 1–4); it has, rather, the character of gospel story. It presents itself as a report concerning the incarnate Word and relates the story of who Jesus was, how he once dwelt among people and revealed his glory, with precise references to place and time. But it is no less clear that the Evangelist does not merely play the role of reporter. He also acts as a witness, as one who is himself involved in the mission of the Messiah (cf. 17:18, 20), who shares in his Sender’s knowledge of himself (15:5; cf. 3:11) and derives from it the mandate and power to articulate this witness in its continuing significance and to shape it in the service of the community of faith in its critical situation. He carries out this task as one who not only knows himself guided and bound by what he himself has seen and heard as an eyewitness and has learned from others (cf. 1:14) but also by the assistance and teaching of the Spirit, whom Jesus promised to those who “were with him from the beginning” so that it could witness with them concerning him (cf. 15:26, 27; 14:26). It is clear that, viewed in this light, the “dialogues” of Jesus with the Jews differ in character and content from verbatim reports and have, instead, the character of apostolic witness and explication concerning Jesus’ self-revelation as the Son of God (cf. 20:21ff.).²³²

3. This is evident from the analysis given above of these dialogues. We have seen that the Jews’ questions, objections, and expressions of amazement, unbelief, or belief in these dialogues do not function as “points of discussion” or “themes” of a continuing discussion. They rather give Jesus occasion to posit himself, totally in his own way and for his part as the one sent by the Father (“from above”).

Attempts have been made to reconstruct from the objections that the Jews advance against Jesus’ messiahship (e.g., 6:42; 7:27, 41ff.) the core issues in later dialogues between church and synagogue.²³³ But although these “objections” certainly show (see below) that what is at stake is the antithesis between Jesus and the Jews, they are nevertheless too incidental and of too little importance for the course of the dialogues to furnish us with a clear image of trends and ideas current among Jews either at the time of Jesus or in the period of the community to which John addressed himself. Jesus’ “conversations” with the Jews are not real dialogues developed on a common basis, in which speakers and listeners alternate, in which right and wrong are argued, and where in the end conclusions are drawn. The antithesis is that between “from above” and “from below.” In fact, the Jews only come to the fore in their inability and refusal to believe.²³⁴ There is no common basis for discussion and no genuine communication.²³⁵ The Evangelist’s aim is not to furnish the Christian community with a polemical pamphlet or apology against Jews but rather—against both external and internal threats of ideas “from below” and from “the world”—to reinforce its faith in Jesus’ glory as that of the incarnate Word and in his absolute authority and power as that of the Son of God, the one sent by the Father (20:31), although the call to believe directed also to those who do not believe remains consistently and forcefully present (see, e.g., the comments on 6:44f., 47).

4. This is by no means to say, however, that these “dialogues” and their Jewish historical setting only have “symbolic value” and are compositions in which “Jews” are no longer an “empirical people” but merely representatives of the “world” that contradicts God’s revelation.²³⁶ The Jews certainly give repeated proof of having the mind of “this world” and, because of their unbelief, are equated with “the world” (cf. 7:7; 8:23; 15:18; 16:2). But the questions they pose are nevertheless Jewish questions, and the protest they utter is above all Judaism’s protest. They asked these questions because Jesus did not meet their messianic conceptions (cf. 6:42, 60ff.; 7:27, 35, 42, 52; 8:22), and their protest was directed against the fact that Jesus apparently left Moses behind (6:31), did not recognize their privileged position as Abraham’s children and as those who had God for their Father (8:39, 42), considered himself higher than Abraham and the prophets (8:52, 53, 57, 58), and indeed made himself equal with God (5:18; cf. 8:53b). All this is as Jewish as Jewish can be.

And the same thing applies to Jesus’ response in self-witness. We need not appeal just to Jesus’ response to the Samaritan woman that “salvation is from the Jews” (4:22), a saying that some scholars contend cannot possibly be attributed to Jesus in light of his dialogues with the Jews (e.g., 8:44).²³⁷ The dialogues themselves prove the contrary. When, in opposing Jesus, the Jews appeal to their history, to Moses in the wilderness and to Abraham their father, Jesus does not reject the appeal on the ground that it no longer has any validity for him, but instead shows that precisely against this salvation-historical background the divine purpose of his coming and work becomes visible and should be believed. Thus in ch. 6, over against their appeal to Moses, he calls himself “bread from heaven”; in ch. 5 he points out Moses as his great witness (5:39ff., 45ff.; cf. 7:19ff.); and in ch. 8, where the conflict seems to come to its culmination, he calls Abraham the one who rejoiced to see “his day.” In the Fourth Gospel—it is necessary to keep repeating this!—Jesus’ self-witness is totally intertwined with the Old Testament; to no small degree it derives its form from the Old Testament and refers back to it in all kinds of ways. This is so however much Jesus himself—as “the good wine kept until now,” the “true bread from heaven,” the “good Shepherd,” the “true vine,” etc.—transcends, in all its references and stipulations, the law given through Moses (1:17).

5. It is in this light that we must understand the argument between Jesus and “the Jews” in the chapters we have discussed—and understand it in all its intensity. It is not what one could describe even for a moment as aversion and hostility to “Judaism,” as anti-Judaism that, if not traceable to Jesus himself, certainly gives evidence of incipient anti-Jewish sentiment in the Christian community. It is of a very different nature and order than that. The argument described in these chapters is not only not in conflict with the acknowledgment that “salvation is from the Jews” and that they are “the descendants of Abraham” (“I know,” 8:37), but is, in fact, the converse of that faith and that acknowledgment.

Nor can one trace the sharpness of this antithesis to the “dualism” that marked certain trends—Gnosticism, for instance—of Hellenistic syncretism, a dualism that in Christianized form is said to constitute the spiritual background of the Fourth Gospel.²³⁸ At least the root of Johannine dualism is not of pagan or syncretistic origin;²³⁹ it is rather grounded in the absolute manner in which Jesus in his self-revelation represents the salvation that is from the Jews, which Abraham longed to see and to which Moses witnessed.

It is against that consciousness of messianic authority, that absoluteness, that the Jews protest. Their rejection of Jesus in the Fourth Gospel is not “symbolic” or “ahistorical,” nor was the Jesus of the Fourth Gospel so un-Jewish, posing alternatives that lay outside the Jewish horizon and proclaiming a dualism foreign to real Jews.²⁴⁰ What they rejected in him was that in his person (“I am he”) he claimed to embody in all its fullness the salvation that God had promised to them, promised to bring to light “greater things” than even true Israelites expected of the Messiah (1:50), and thus professed to give actual content and truth to the redemptive revelation granted to Israel. It is his “I am he,” thus understood, that returns as a fundamental motif in every dialogue with the Jews, whether the subject is the temple, the serpent in the wilderness, manna from heaven, the fulfillment of the sabbath, the living water at the Feast of Tabernacles, or the good shepherd (chs. 2, 3, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 10). It is against this all-transcending consciousness of messianic authority over against their own religion and spiritual heritage that the Jews register their final and deepest protest. They will not let him call into question their prerogatives as the people of God, still less make them contingent on faith in him.

Finally, as the conflict moves toward its climax the issue is truth versus falsehood, freedom versus slavery. But this dualism is not at bottom non-Jewish. The question was who could rightly appeal, for this truth and this freedom, to the God of Israel, who represents him as “the Father,” the Jews or Jesus. When Jesus appeals to God as his Father, they say they do not know where and who his Father is (8:19) and appeal against him to their father, first to Abraham and then, when he rejects that appeal, to God (8:41). They know where they have come from; they are not born of fornication (8:41), but who is he (8:25)? And when he rejects their claim, because their “works” (their plan to kill him) agree with neither Abraham nor God, and says that God is his father, then in their eyes he is a blasphemer, one who ought not to be allowed to live. It is in the context of the choice between father and father that Jesus asserts that not God but the devil is their father. They call him possessed. He goes further than they. Not because he is more “against” them than they are against him—for he came not to judge but to save (3:17)—but because from within his knowledge of the Father and the consciousness of his mission he saw, in their resistance and desire to kill him, his real adversary, the devil (cf. 13:2).

The antithesis so stated is not an extreme extension of Johannine “theology” or Johannine “dualism,” against whatever background it is viewed. Though in John everything is concentrated on the person of Christ, this antithesis also repeatedly surfaces in the other Gospels—for example, when Jesus, immediately after the Father has proclaimed him Son, is tempted in this Sonship by the devil (Mk. 1:12 par.), when, as he sends out the disciples, he sees Satan fall like lightning from heaven (Lk. 10:18), when the Jewish leaders say that he casts out demons by Beelzebub, he speaks of the strong man whose house he plunders (Mt. 12:24ff.), and, the the clearest example, when at Caesarea Philippi, after Jesus’ first passion announcement, Simon Peter tries to dissuade Jesus from taking that road, Peter is the target of that severe rebuke from his Master: “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me, for you are not on the side of God but of humans” (Mt. 16:23).

This is not to say, of course, that Matthew’s picture of Peter is the same as John’s picture of “the Jews.” But it does show that at a given moment Jesus could speak as revealingly about his first disciple and apostle as about the Jews who planned to kill him and about Judas the betrayer (6:70; 13:2, 27; Lk. 22:3). In each case the antithesis is so absolute because it is the converse of the unique—and thereby exclusive—significance of Jesus’ mission and of the way that, to fulfill that mission, he had to go (14:6). Otherwise, the other great Johannine salvation sayings, “I am … the light of the world” and so many others, lose their absolute validity. It will always remain a question whether and to what degree all these utterances go back to the “historical Jesus” or constitute the expression of apostolic interpretation, the “the Spirit’s co-witness.” However difficult the discussion of this topic will remain, one will always have to conclude nevertheless that the absolute character of Jesus’ self-revelation and of the choice with which he thereby confronts humans, in whatever way it is expressed, is not the product of the later Christian community but is basic to its existence as a community of faith. And that is at the same time to say that the radical antithesis that the Fourth Gospel evidences is—within the framework of the entire New Testament kerygma—in the last analysis of a different nature and order than what could be traced to “theological” motives (whether “Christian” anti-Semitism or Hellenistic dualism) or could be abstracted from the essential content of the Johannine kerygma.

9:1-41

The Healing of a Man Born Blind

Ch. 9 displays a clear, well-constructed, inner unity. The connection with what preceded is very loose (if one can even speak of it; see the comments on vs. 1). Apparently beggars (vs. 8) often sat near the temple (cf. Ac. 3:2), the place from which Jesus had withdrawn (8:59). The pool of Siloam (vs. 7) and Jesus’ continued reference to himself as the light of the world (vs. 5) are clearly reminiscent of the Feast of Tabernacles and of Jesus’ pronouncement in 8:12.

One expositor calls ch. 9 “a pleasant interlude” after “the long and involved dialogues” in chs. 7 and 8. In any case it offers us a very lively picture, is written with great narrative skill, and demonstrates in a concrete case what ch. 8 dealt with: the refusal of the Jewish leaders to acknowledge Jesus for who he was, despite the clear witness of his miracles. The story’s development recalls that of the story in 5:1ff.,²⁴¹ but with the important difference that the dialogue linked with the miracle includes not Jesus but the healed man. Here, too, especially in the increasingly passionate discussion in 9:18-34, many expositors see a reflection of what took place in the later confrontation between the church and the synagogue. In this connection the different reactions of the two healed men in chs. 5 and 9 are said to symbolize the way in which in that later period the (dangerous) choice for faith in Jesus was avoided by some and accepted with all its risks by others.²⁴² The question is, then, of course how to understand the transfer of the miracle as an event to the later community, especially when its dramatic outcome, the expulsion of the healed man from the synagogue, could not occur until that later period.²⁴³

As to the structure of the story, one can only admire the skill with which event and meaning have been fused. An example of this is the exchange between Jesus and his disciples before the healing (vss. 1-5), in which, in connection with the blindness of the beggar, Jesus’ saying about the light of the world is repeated (8:12); and this motif and its divisiveness (separating “the blind” from “those who see”) form the conclusion of the entire story (vss. 35-41; cf. 5:19-30).²⁴⁴ The miracle itself (vss. 6, 7) is described with great restraint, but the translation of “Siloam” places it in a specific perspective. Then follow four clearly distinguishable conversations: in vss. 8-12, between the healed man and his neighbors and acquaintances, in which the indisputable fact of the miracle is established (“I am the man”); in vss. 13-17, a hearing held with the former blind man by the Pharisees, which does not lead to consensus on what actually happened; in vss. 18-23, a hearing with the man’s parents with the clear but unattained purpose of getting them to deny that their son had experienced a miraculous healing; and in vss. 24-34, a second and decisive conversation between “the Jews” and the man himself.

These successive conversations depict the hardening attitude of “the Jews,” who, in the face of obvious evidence, adopt an increasingly hostile position over against Jesus and the healed man. They also depict the increasing vigor and decisiveness with which the healed man defends himself and takes his stand for Jesus.²⁴⁵ When all this finally ends with the man’s expulsion by the Pharisees, his second encounter with Jesus follows (vss. 35-38), in which he confesses Jesus as the Son of man and falls at his feet. The entire section is concluded in vss. 39-41 by Jesus’ pronouncement about blind people who gain their sight and seeing people who remain blind. We will follow the division that flows from the text itself.

9:1-7

The Miracle and Its Background

1, 2 For the context, see above; “pass by” can also simply mean “move on” (cf. Mt. 9:9, where Jesus also “saw a man”). “Seeing” does not simply refer to observation but serves to introduce what follows (vs. 3b); it is a seeing that evoked a certain reaction in Jesus. That the man was blind from birth is not directly visible, but is assumed to be familiar to Jesus and his disciples (vs. 2b). “His disciples,” mentioned for the first time since 6:70, are probably, as there, “the Twelve,” Jesus’ usual (though not always mentioned) companions. They, too, though the figure of the blind beggar is apparently not unfamiliar to them (cf. vs. 8), are touched by his plight. Their reaction is a question of theodicy that assumes the dogma of direct relationship between sin and sickness (and misfortune in general).²⁴⁶ Naturally, in the case of a man born blind, that belief was problematic. For who then had to be the guilty party? Was there a way in which the man himself could be responsible? Just how that could be the disciples do not say.²⁴⁷ Perhaps that is precisely the subject on which they wanted Jesus’ opinion. Or were the parents guilty of sin and hence punished in their son? Apparently both possible assumptions produced problems in the minds of the disciples. Whether with these questions they intended to challenge the entire manner in which the rabbis made a direct connection between sin and sickness (and the like) is something we cannot say. But for disciples of Jesus that would not be so strange.

3 Jesus himself flatly rejects such a direct connection. In Lk. 13:2-5 and Jn. 5:14 Jesus does not reject the connection between sin and suffering but instead warns against a superficial application of it. But here he subsumes suffering under a totally different viewpoint, namely that of God’s purpose: “so that the works of God might be made manifest in him” (cf. 11:4). The clause beginning with “so that” is elliptical. Materially it refers back to the blindness of the man about whom the disciples have asked. Still we do not explicitly read: “This man was born blind so that.…” Hence, as far as God’s hand and works are concerned, the emphasis is not on what caused the blindness but on what will happen to the blind man now (cf. vs. 4). This does not answer all questions about God’s involvement with the blindness of people born blind; but for Jesus’ disciples it opens a perspective from which they may and must view people born blind: the perspective of the manifestation of the works of God, which are the works that the Father has charged Jesus to accomplish (5:19f., 36). For in those works God is made manifest in his glory (11:4).

4 The obligation to do these works is extended to Jesus’ disciples. It is not just a necessity laid on them as a task; it is also the “necessity” of the divine plan of redemption in which they have been taken up. These works are the works of him who sent Jesus into the world to accomplish them (cf. 4:34; 5:17; 10:32). That, according to the most likely reading,²⁴⁸ Jesus involves his disciples in these works is not surprising. This also happens in other places where the disciples are reported to be in Jesus’ company (cf. 3:11; 4:38; 6:5, 10ff.).²⁴⁹ And the fact that “us” occupies such an emphatic position apparently means that—whatever may occupy others and whatever questions the disciples themselves may have with respect to God’s governance of the world—for them doing the works of him who sent Jesus is the great command of the hour. It is because time is pressing: “while it is day”; “night comes when no one can work.” Some expositors think that underlying this last utterance is a wisdom saying (cf. also 11:9f.).²⁵⁰ Of course, this is very well possible (cf. 4:35). But more than such general wisdom is at stake here. What puts pressure on Jesus and what his disciples have to realize is that his available time is limited (cf. vs. 5; 12:35). All the events narrated here and in the following chapters are under pressure from his approaching end.

5 That is also the meaning of “As long as I am in the world, I am the light of the world.” “As long as” has a primarily positive meaning.²⁵¹ As long as Jesus is in the world, it is “day” for him: time and opportunity to work. He will also use that time to the very end, whatever may threaten (also perhaps meaning: sabbath or no sabbath).²⁵² But—negatively—therein also lies the limitation of his time for work and for being the light of the world, which is a motive not only for the world but also for himself to use that time to the full (cf. 12:35).

That is in a sense also the problematic nature of this utterance: “It is surprising enough that the time limit on the revelation should be the occasion for a warning not only to the world, but to the Revealer to use the time aright; but it is even more surprising that he, who according to v. 5 is the light of the world, and whose departure from the world brings night to it, should, according to v. 4, be dependent on day and night.”²⁵³ Because the same idea returns in 11:9f. and 12:35f., one cannot explain the utterance merely by referring to sources used here by the Evangelist.²⁵⁴ It is clear from Jesus’ dependence on “the day” and “the night” that follows the day how, even in the Fourth Gospel, the situation from which Jesus speaks and acts is not that of the ascended Lord but of the earthly Jesus, how the boundaries between one mode of existence and the other are not so fluid—not to say invisible—for the Evangelist as for some of his expositors,²⁵⁵ and how the world (and the church) must live from what Jesus has “once” said and done and was. That this work finds its continuation in the word and Spirit of the exalted Lord is beyond dispute (cf. 13:1; chs. 14–17). But this does not alter the fact that Jesus’ mode of existence in this world is not that of God or of the ascended Son of man, but that of a human being whose “day” would end in (the darkness of) the night in which no one can work. There is a caesura as a result of which his work was not merely transferred from earth to heaven in order simply to continue. In the coming of the Spirit and the working of his word “the light of the world” received another form than that of the Son of man. All this, though it is not explicated in this context, is implicit in the fact that the Word became flesh and as such once dwelled among us and that to him applies: “on this earth thou hast never more been seen.” The sequel to this will—in this very Gospel—be still impressively articulated, especially in Jesus’ farewell discourses. But the continuity does not wipe out all boundaries, not between cross and resurrection or between Easter and Pentecost, much less between Jesus and the church (or its charismatic “preacher-disciples”).

It is not by accident, therefore, that the disciples join Jesus in the “us” of vs. 4 and that Jesus then continues with “me.” For the reference at that point is to him above all and to the way he must go. Without the distinct segments and dispensations and deep discontinuities between “us” and “me,” the oneness of salvation cannot be understood according to the Scriptures. The gospel, including the Gospel according to John, bears a salvation-historical character.

6, 7 Immediately after this follows the description of the miracle. Jesus takes the initiative. There is no evidence that a conversation between him and the blind beggar took place earlier (cf. 5:6), nor are there any other preliminaries. The application of saliva to blind eyes was considered curative (cf. Mk. 8:23; 7:33), though the texts cited for this do not mention the mixing of saliva and earth.²⁵⁶ This procedure undoubtedly receives this detailed description because Jesus was later accused of violating the sabbath (vss. 15, 16). Kneading dough was expressly listed among the thirty-nine forms of work forbidden on the sabbath.²⁵⁷ Jesus applied the resulting paste to the eyes of the blind man²⁵⁸ and instructed him to wash himself in the pool (or spring) of Siloam. According to Schlatter, the reference is not to the pool but to the spring that fed the pool by way of an underground channel constructed for that purpose. But generally the source of the water in the pool is thought to be the Gihon spring, and Siloam is understood to be the name of just the pool.²⁵⁹ The name itself might point in this direction since it relates to the conducting of the water through the channel or to the water thus conducted (“sent out”). It is evidently understood in that sense by the Evangelist, who thus establishes an allegorical connection between the precious water of the spring and Jesus himself as the one sent by the Father. The miracle has its background here: not only is it (in its beneficient illuminating effect) a sign of Jesus’ coming as the light of the world, it also symbolizes the sending of the Son of God himself, proceeding as it did from the ever-flowing spring of God’s love to the world.

Why Jesus sent the blind man for his healing to the pool of Siloam and why the man was not healed until he had washed himself there cannot be answered with certainty. The man did, of course, need to wash the mud out of his eyes. That the healing did not occur before Jesus sent him off (cf. Mt. 8:4) can be taken as indicative of an initiative on the part of Jesus to arouse faith in the blind man (cf. vs. 35). Other miraculous healings happen after the person(s) in question has (or have) carried out a certain order (cf. 4:50; Lk. 17:14), at times not without resistance on their part (cf. 2 Kg. 5:10f.). But why was the blind man sent specifically to Siloam? There are hints that the water of Siloam was used for ritual purification.²⁶⁰ So one might regard the sending of the blind man to Siloam as analogous to the sending of the ten lepers to the priests (Lk. 17:14). But there is in the text no sign of such a ritual element (see also below). Reference is also often made to Is. 8:6, where a prophecy of judgment mentions Israel’s contempt for “the waters of Shiloah that flow gently.” This then would be repeated in the lack of respect the Jews displayed toward this healing. But this connection is far-fetched. It seems better to think of the role (discussed above under 7:37ff.) that the water of Siloam played in the Feast of Tabernacles. Just as vs. 5 clearly refers back to what in 8:12—also very likely in connection with the Feast of Tabernacles—Jesus says of himself as the light of the world, so in the sending of the blind man Jesus is revealed as the one who grants the living water, of which the name of the pool had become symbolic (cf. 7:37ff.).

Others regard the washing in Siloam as a prefiguration of baptism.²⁶¹ Already early in the history of the church John 9 played an important role in the practice of baptism.²⁶² The question is, however, whether the Evangelist himself had any sacramental intent in his redaction of the story. The arguments in support of this view seem weak. That the man was healed only after he had washed himself can, of course, be interpreted sacramentally in retrospect, but in the story the washing clearly relates, not to sin, but to the earth and saliva that Jesus applied to the man’s eyes. Also, the word used for this washing offers no support for understanding it as a reference to baptism as a ritual purification. Still less can the idea (first raised by the disciples as a question, later expressed in invective by the Pharisees) that the man was born in sin (vss. 2, 34) serve as an argument that the washing was related to (original?) sin. Jesus distances himself from that explanation of the man’s blindness. Moreover, the word for Jesus’ applying the “dough” (ἐπιχρίειν, vss. 6, 11) can hardly, on the basis of the root χρι, be an allusion to the anointing (associated with baptism?) mentioned in 1 Jn. 2:20, 27; 2 Co. 1:21, 22. More significant, to my mind, is the appeal to the dialogue between Jesus and the healed man (vss. 35ff.), which might echo the liturgical questions and answers used in the admission of a candidate to baptism. Still, any allusion to baptism is lacking; if there is a connection with later baptismal liturgy, one would rather have to believe the lines of influence ran in the opposite direction. Even so, the question “Do you believe in the Son of man?” did not belong to later baptismal terminology.

Here again (see also the comments on 6:52ff.) my conclusion is that one can only attribute liturgical motives to the Evangelist in a forced way. After the baptism of John, everything is stated in the Fourth Gospel in the light of the one great testimony that answers the question: Who was Jesus? Liturgical motives, if present, are not explicit.

9:8-23

Preliminary Hearings

8-13 The remainder of the story consists of conversations, some of them interrogations (see the introductory comments on this chapter above). The first three are preparatory in relation to the fourth, the decisive interrogation of the man born blind. The first conversation is between the healed man and his neighbors and others who knew him as a blind beggar. At the sight of the healed man it is as if suddenly they could no longer believe their eyes, as is evident from the utterly astonished question they pose to each other: “Isn’t this man the one who used to sit and beg?”²⁶³ That is, the blind man known to all. While (vs. 9) some immediately realize the truth and exclaim, “No doubt it is he!” for others the reality was too much, adding “no” (“it is not he”), “but he strongly resembles him.”²⁶⁴ At that point, however, the healed man joins the conversation and puts an end to all uncertainty: “I am the man.” Of course all three answers to this initial question serve, for the benefit of the reader, to let the most “qualified” witnesses establish that the man in question was no one other than the man born blind.

The conversation continues in vss. 10-12, and the neighbors and acquaintances now want to know precisely what happened. The former blind man himself offers a brief account that shows first of all that he knows Jesus. His words are striking: “the man called Jesus.”²⁶⁵ For now that is all he knows to say about Jesus. Gradually that will change (vss. 17, 33, 38). And he does not know where Jesus has gone (vs. 12). It all ends, therefore, with the people taking the man—emphatically described as “the formerly blind man”—to “the Pharisees” (vs. 13), a general term for the Jewish authorities with whom Jesus had to deal. Such a sensational event, which raised all kinds of unanswered questions, apparently could not pass without the involvement of expert authority. Further, the name of Jesus had been mentioned and “it was a sabbath day” (vs. 14).

The whole narrative is strongly reminiscent of the story in ch. 5. But there Jesus, having been pointed out by the healed man, must answer for himself. His self-witness is central. Here Jesus remains entirely in the background until vs. 35; up to that point everything transpires in dialogue between the Pharisees and the man born blind (and his parents). This twofold presentation is, of course, not arbitrary. Whereas in ch. 5 Jesus gives his foundational self-revelation as the Son of God (5:17ff.), now, after everything that has taken place, in a no less characteristic and fundamental way, the healed man himself takes the floor. His testimony cannot be muzzled any longer but gains in forcefulness as opposition to him increases. In the now following phases of the story this comes to expression with dramatic vitality and psychological deftness.

14-17 Before the first interrogation of the healed man by the Pharisees begins in vs. 15, we are told that “it was a sabbath day when Jesus made the clay” and thus performed a prohibited act (see the comments on vs. 6). As in 5:9, this circumstance is mentioned after the story of the healing itself because it does not become relevant until now, in the confrontation with the Pharisees. They start by asking how the healing occurred. The man born blind gives his story without mentioning Jesus’ name. Jesus is the great absent and unmentioned one, his name unmentioned in all the interrogations, but still the one around whom the story revolves.

Again the clay and the washing are mentioned. What interests the man’s interrogators is that all this took place on the sabbath. Still their reactions vary (vs. 16). Some stand ready to judge, saying that, on the basis of this violation of the sabbath, Jesus, “this man,” proved that he was “not from God,” that is, that there could be no question of a divine miracle. Others are less sure and ask how a “sinful man”—that is, the sabbath breaker that they agreed Jesus was—could nevertheless do such signs.²⁶⁶ Again (cf. 7:43; 10:19) the Evangelist explicitly mentions their division over Jesus. He is not thus aiming to say something in favor of “the Jews,” since unbelief remains in control and the gainsayers do not get a chance to speak again (cf. vss. 18ff.), but does thus stress that even Jesus’ most resolute opponents could not get around the factuality of his miracles.

In this predicament they once more ask the blind man what he has to say about the person who opened his eyes—at least according to his story (vs. 17).²⁶⁷ Apparently, the object is to confront him with the incredibility of his story, namely that a sabbath breaker has opened his eyes. But he refuses to be put off. That he could now see was more important than any legal objections that could be brought against the miracle. His answer is short and sound: “he is a prophet,” the same answer that a Samaritan woman has given (cf. 4:19). This is not everything that he (like that woman) is to confess concerning Jesus (cf. vss. 33f., 36f.), but it is what a person whose eyes “have been opened” begins to notice as the first and crucial thing about Jesus: that the power of his word proceeds not from humanness but from God.²⁶⁸ In that regard the former blind man differs from the paralytic in ch. 5, who after his healing and despite Jesus’ warning (5:14) immediately fell back under the sway of the old. But this blind man not only chooses the side of Jesus, but against the verdict of the Jewish authorities (“this man is not from God”) gives his own testimony: “he is a prophet.” His disagreement with them will gradually deepen, but from the start it gives form to what Jesus will call the “judgment” for which he “came into the world” (vs. 39).

18-23 The third phase of the dialogue is the interrogation of the man’s parents. Vs. 18 refers no longer to “the Pharisees,” as in vss. 13-17, but, as several times earlier, to “the Jews,” a designation of Jewish authorities hostile to Jesus. There is no further mention of the disagreement among these questioners described in vs. 16. The development of the case is now totally in the hands of those who do not believe they are dealing with a former blind man²⁶⁹ as long as they have not first interrogated his parents. However, the questions they pose to the parents (vs. 19) are not designed to get more information from them but rather to confront them from the start with the incredibility of their assertion that the man standing in front of them was their son who was born blind: “How is it (possible then) that he now sees?” Their aim is clearly to embarrass the parents and to corner them as unreliable and deceptive witnesses. They apparently do not reckon with the possibility that the parents will also point to Jesus, undoubtedly because they do not believe Jesus performed this miracle and because everyone who before the forum of the Jewish authorities dares to attribute such power to Jesus knows what awaits him or her.

The parents allow themselves to be neither intimidated nor trapped. They insist that the man standing before them is indeed their son and that he has been blind from birth. They feign total ignorance as to the circumstances and explanation of his healing (vs. 21). They do not know “how he now sees” (vs. 19) and also—although the question has not been put to them—who has opened his eyes, though undoubtedly they really do (cf. vss. 22, 23). They cover themselves in advance and refer the authorities, with feigned innocence, to their son, who is old enough, after all, to answer for himself. The Evangelist (vss. 22, 23) explains this attitude of the parents from their fear of the Jews. They avoid all allusion to Jesus since that might bring them under suspicion of confessing Jesus as the Christ. For “the Jews had already agreed that if anyone should confess him to be Christ, he was to be put out of the synagogue.” The Evangelist’s intent is not so much to depict the parents as cowardly in contrast with their courageous, Jesus-confessing son, but rather to show how “the Jews” got caught in their own snares, for whom matters were only made worse by the manner in which the parents answered the questions. Now that the identity of the healed person had been established beyond all doubt, only one question remained: how could anyone still deny the miracle of the healing? Implied, of course, was healing by Jesus, whose name, though not mentioned, was in everyone’s thoughts. And this was a question that the Evangelist undoubtedly laid before the consciences of the gainsaying—or self-concealing—believing Jews of his own day (cf. 12:42).

There is great divergence of opinion on the expression “put out of the synagogue.”²⁷⁰ A disciplinary measure by that name is not known to us from the relevant Jewish literature. There was a synagogal ban applied in varying degrees of severity, but apparently it did not include the possibility of exclusion from the synagogal fellowship. It was rather intended to bring the sinner to repentance and to obedience to the law and its official representatives in the fellowship.²⁷¹ The rabbinic literature also mentions people who were outside the religious and social fellowship of the synagogue—to whom, therefore, the adjective ἀποσυνάγωγος was applicable—either because they had withdrawn from the synagogue or were thrust from it.²⁷² The people referred to were held by the Jewish leaders to be apostates and heretics (minim). They were viewed as dangerous opponents against whom one did not act with formal disciplinary procedures but “who were simply excluded from the synagogue by measures that brought home to the simplest Jews that between the synagogue and those circles there existed no form of fellowship.”²⁷³

We know that at a later time, under the influence of the well-known rabbi Gamaliel II, when the separation between church and synagogue assumed definite forms, Christians were officially designated minim. The clearest indication of this is perhaps the later insertion of a curse on minim (apostates, heretics), especially on the nazarim (Jewish Christians), in the Eighteen Benedictions (the Shemoneh Esreh). This insertion took place after the definitive redaction of this prayer toward the end of the first century.²⁷⁴ Many current interpreters²⁷⁵ see in Jn. 9:22; 12:42; 16:12 allusions to this curse in the Eighteen Benedictions, the dating of which then has to be set as early as possible, but of course much later than the death of Jesus. The passages in the Fourth Gospel that relate to this “extra-synagogal” position are therefore said in fact to refer to measures with which, not the believing Jews in Jesus’ time, but those in “the Johannine community” at the end of the first century, were confronted.

However, aside from the difficulty for dating the Fourth Gospel raised if the Evangelist based his story on the revision of the Shemoneh Esreh,²⁷⁶ the main objection to this hypothesis is that the curse on the minim does not mention expulsion from the synagogue,²⁷⁷ and certainly not as a measure that only then went into effect against Jewish Christians. Those cursed are people with whom no Jew has had fellowship for a long time, or at least should have had, ought and whose place outside the synagogue did not have to be brought about by decree but was rather assumed (“For the renegades let there be no hope, and may the arrogant kingdom soon be rooted out in our days, and the Nazarenes and the minim perish as in a moment and be blotted out from the book of life and with the righteous may they not be inscribed. Blessed art thou, O Lord, who humblest the arrogant”).

Some interpreters think that this “benediction” was used to expose as clandestine Christians those who refused to recite it in the synagogue service and thus to expel them.²⁷⁸ But whatever truth that contains, it would prove only that the purging of Christians perhaps still left in the synagogue was pursued as consistently as possible, not that expulsion of Jewish Christians from the Jewish community had still to begin and was to be effected by the revised Shemoneh Esreh. Furthermore, the notion that this expulsion from the synagogal fellowship was based on one decree issued from a central location in the Judaism of the time seems unrealistic.

Rather, this expulsion was a gradual process shaped by local situations and events, which sometimes produced periods of relaxation between church and synagogue and then led to fierce outbursts of hostility and only later brought fixed forms of irreconcilability into the liturgy, as can be inferred from the twelfth of the Eighteen Benedictions. That from the beginning the followers of Jesus were exposed to hatred, persecution, and ostracism not only can be inferred from texts like Lk. 6:22²⁷⁹ but is also pictured in the book of Acts (cf. 8:1ff.; 9:1ff.). It is hard to imagine that the violent persecution reported there did not also entail isolation and exclusion from the synagogal fellowship.

I do not agree, therefore, that the fear of expulsion of the parents of the man born blind was something inconceivable during Jesus’ life and that the agreement mentioned in 9:22 could only have been made some sixty or seventy years later. The Evangelist himself, by using the word “already,” clearly indicates the advanced stage that hostility against Jesus and his followers had reached. Such an extreme step was completely consistent with what he has already said about the quickly advancing conflict. Is it so strange that “the Jews,” who planned to kill Jesus and looked for ways to arrest him, at the same time did not shrink from intimidating followers who openly acknowledged him as the Messiah and threatening them with expulsion? Already the pressure on the people was so strong that no one spoke of him openly “for fear of the Jews” (7:13). And what “the Jews” thought of those who believed in him becomes nowhere more clear than when they say, in an earlier heated discussion with their officers who have tried in vain to arrest him: “Have any of the authorities or the Pharisees believed in him? But this crowd, who do not know the law, are accursed?” (7:49). In fact the measure referred to in 9:22 (which apparently did not have to assume the form of an official procedure; see the comments on vs. 34) is nothing other than the execution of such a curse.²⁸⁰

Hence the “agreement” to which 9:22 refers can hardly be identified with or conceived as a reflex of (what is then viewed as) a general edict of the time of Gamaliel II to expel by a solemn procedure all Christ-believing Jews. As is evident from the Evangelist’s wording, the reference here is to an incidental measure adopted by mutual agreement with a view to a specific concrete situation, which in its intent and possible effect was totally shaped by what took place in Jerusalem before the death of Jesus and which, one might hope, would lose its relevance once Jesus had disappeared from the scene.²⁸¹ But still it was a measure in which it became clear how “the true disciples” (cf. 8:31) from the start were and—as the future would teach—remained involved in the hatred and hostility that their Lord evoked in the world. It is undoubtedly part of the Evangelist’s purpose, in this masterful account, to describe the man born blind as a shining example, both of true discipleship and of how the faithful were persecuted. His confrontation with “the Jews,” which now follows, and the concluding account of his encounter with Jesus will illumine even more clearly both the persecution and the discipleship.

9:24-34

Interrogation and Expulsion of the Man

24 When the Jewish authorities saw that they made no headway with the parents of the man born blind, they again summoned the man himself, this time for the definitive interrogation. The course of the interrogation recalls what Mark and Matthew write about the interrogation of Jesus by the Sanhedrin (Mk. 14:56ff.; Mt. 26:59ff.). For lack of credible incriminating evidence from third parties, the interrogation had to be decisive. The admonition “Give God the praise” is a formula known from other sources (e.g., Josh. 7:19) that in situations like this prompted the person addressed to stand up for the truth.²⁸² “We know …”²⁸³ indicates how the man was to praise God, namely by admitting that “this man,” that is, Jesus, was a sinner and hence not a prophet from God. The authorities no longer talk about whether the miracle happened or not. Their concern is to disqualify Jesus.

25, 26 The healed man, however, sticks to what Jesus has done for him. The concessive beginning of his answer, “I do not know whether he is a sinner,” is not intended to leave that point open for the moment (cf. vss. 31ff.) but to posit what the healed man knew against what “the Jews” claimed to “know.” He knew that though he had been blind he could now see. That was his point, and no other knowledge could tell him otherwise. The Jews (vs. 26), now totally at a loss, could think of nothing better than to ask him again about the facts of what Jesus—whose name they still did not mention—had done for him. In this way they hoped perhaps to bring him to contradict himself in his testimony.

27-29 But the healed man shifts from the defensive to the offensive. If only they listened better,²⁸⁴ they would not need to hear again what he has already told them. Why this repeated asking about what they already know? Certainly he must not²⁸⁵ assume that they wanted “to become his disciples?” The man’s mockery does not lay bare the tendentious “thoroughness” of their interrogation but does identify their basic interest, which is to forestall any popular support for Jesus as a result of this spectacular healing. But at hearing the words “his disciples,” they explode. They lose their official decorum and rail against the man: “You²⁸⁶ are a disciple of that man, but we are disciples of Moses!”²⁸⁷ The antithesis is intended to expose the utter inferiority of the discipleship to which the man born blind refers.

Again they say what they know: “We know that God spoke to Moses.”²⁸⁸ There lay the beginning of the holy tradition in which they stood and on which their whole religion rested. But “as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.” What was the source of his authority on the basis of which he thought he could teach and make disciples for himself? Their statement about Jesus brings out what Jesus has repeatedly referred to as the big difference between him and them (cf. 8:14; 7:27f.). They do not know his origin and therefore deny to him, in the most fundamental way possible, the legitimacy of his right to speak in the name of God.

30-33 The man born blind, undaunted even by this, fights them with their own weapons.²⁸⁹ He finds it astonishing that they, who so emphatically posit themselves as disciples of Moses, do not know where the man who opened his eyes came from. Echoing their self-assured “we know,” he posits another “we know” that casts doubt on their claimed ignorance of Jesus’ origin: “We know that God does not listen to sinners” (vs. 31). With this statement the man refers of course to their repeated description of Jesus as a sinner (vs. 24; cf. vss. 16ff.) and also to (“hear”) the miracle, since Jews regarded a miracle as the answer to a miracle-worker’s prayer.²⁹⁰ He does not, however, content himself with this negative statement—to which some of the Pharisees have already spoken in the form of a question (vs. 16b). Leaving no doubt now about what he himself thinks of Jesus’ status as a sinner (cf. vs. 25), the man adds the positive side of his “we know,” namely that “if any one fears God²⁹¹ and does his will, God listens to him” (cf. also 3:2). And this is all the more true where it concerned the unprecedented restoration of sight to one born blind (vs. 32). His last word to them is therefore a terse and public confession of Jesus: “If this man were not from God, he could not have done anything” (vs. 33).

34 With that, however, “the Jews” have had enough. Unable to refute the man and unwilling to be lectured by him, they cast into his face their last “argument”: “You were born in utter sin!” The expression is reminiscent of texts like Psalm 51. But whereas there the reference is to the sinful condition in which every human being is involved by birth, they are referring to his—now apparently acknowledged!—birth as a blind man. In that, according to their idea of the connection between sin and suffering (cf. comments on vs. 2), he carried the indelible stigma of sin with him, whoever committed the sin (cf. vs. 2). And was he going to lecture them? This last outburst of abuse was the end of anything that might resemble an interrogation or disciplinary consultation. They wanted nothing more to do with the man and so “cast him out.”

According to some expositors who believe that expulsion from the synagogue was not yet practiced during Jesus’ life (see above), this only meant that they, so to speak, “showed him the door.”²⁹² But most—correctly, I think—see an immediate connection here with vs. 22. By his statements in vss. 31ff. the man unquestionably fell under the verdict of ejection from the synagogal fellowship. The manner in which the verdict is carried out here shows that it did not require an official judicial procedure and a solemn act of excommunication. One may even ask whether such procedures were ever followed since, as mentioned earlier, there is no mention anywhere in Jewish literature of such a formal process of exclusion.²⁹³ Therefore apparently all that is meant in vs. 34 is that after all attempts to change the man’s mind had failed, the authorities simply—with no formal judicial process—thrust him from their community²⁹⁴ or, in the language of John, made him “extra-synagogal,”²⁹⁵ and he became an “extra-synagogal person,”²⁹⁶ words that simply indicate the position in which one came to be and that say nothing about how one was sentenced to it.

Thus the man born blind, on account of his brave defense of Jesus, experienced the fate his parents had escaped by their evasive answers: separation from “true” Israelites to be despised and avoided by them. But—as we are about to learn—not by Jesus, who had not lost sight of the man but knew him rather as one “given by the Father,” to whom therefore the word applied: “and the one who comes to me I will not cast out” (6:37).

9:35-41

The Man’s Confession, “Those Who See” and “Those Who Are Blind”

35 The manner in which Jesus comes back into the picture resembles 5:14. Again Jesus “finds”—certainly not accidentally—the man whom he has healed and enters into conversation with him. However, whereas in ch. 5 he must warn the former paralytic not to fall back into his old life, the man born blind has already passed the test. That Jesus has heard of the man’s expulsion places their encounter in a certain light: Jesus is concerned about the excommunicate, seeks out the lost sheep of the house of Israel, and binds him more tightly to himself. That the parable of the good shepherd comes immediately after this story is certainly no accident (see comments on 10:1ff.).

The emphasis with which Jesus asks “Do you believe in the Son of man?” undoubtedly refers back to what has happened. The healed man has already evidenced his belief that Jesus is a prophet (vs. 17), one sent and legitimated by God (vs. 33), and, over against “the Jews,” has stayed with this conviction to the bitter end. If Jesus now asks concerning the Son of man, his aim is not to bring the man to a “higher level” of belief but rather to disclose to him the “for whom?” and the “what?” of his choice for Jesus, which has made him an excommunicate from the synagogue (cf. Mt. 5:11, 12). The question therefore invites an affirmative answer: “You believe in the Son of man, do you not?”

36 The man’s answer evidences uncertainty: “And who is he, then,²⁹⁷ Lord, that I may believe in him?” He addresses Jesus with respect (“Lord”; cf. vs. 38) and shows openness to the faith Jesus apparently asks of him. But he does not understand whom Jesus means by “Son of man.” Elsewhere in the Fourth Gospel it is also evident that this name was not a current term for the Messiah and hence was not understood (cf. 12:34).²⁹⁸ For good reason Jesus’ question has been called “puzzling.”²⁹⁹ At an early stage copyists substituted “Son of God” for “Son of man” because “believe in the Son of man” occurs nowhere else, unlike the formula “believe in the Son of God,” which is, for that very reason, undoubtedly secondary. In any case, for the man born blind, faith in a more or less unidentified figure had to be problematic. There is therefore much difference of opinion on why Jesus posed this question, which he, too, could assume would not be understood.³⁰⁰ But not only here but repeatedly in the Fourth Gospel Jesus unexpectedly shifts (in the third person) to “the Son of man,” even (and especially) when he speaks to people who are not familiar with the title. He thus seeks to make them aware of “greater things”—which he as the divinely Sent One represented—than they had realized (1:51; 3:13ff.; 5:15; 6:27, 62; 8:28).

37 In response to the man’s question, “Who then is he [the Son of man]?” Jesus does not for a moment leave him in doubt. In the most concrete way possible he identifies himself with the Son of man: “And you have seen him, and³⁰¹ he who speaks with you, it is he!” The perfect tense in the first part indicates that the act of seeing is completed and that its meaning and validity remain: “You have now seen him (the Son of man),” once and for all times. In view of the verb used here for “see,”³⁰² it is unlikely that Jesus is alluding to the faculty of sight given to the blind man. The whole sentence is designed to establish Jesus’ identity as the Son of man as unambiguously as possible: he and no one else is the Son of man (cf. 4:26).

38 On hearing this the healed man abandons all reserve. He answers with a spontaneous cry, “Lord, I believe!” and falls at Jesus’ feet. He makes no further inquiry concerning who or what the Son of man is. If the Son of man is Jesus, he is prepared—whatever else this may mean—to believe in the Son of man, to acknowledge him as Lord. His act of falling at Jesus’ feet³⁰³ is more than a gesture of respect; it is clearly an answer to the transcendent benefit Jesus has bestowed on the man, an answer the man has in effect already given in his explicit “knowledge” that “this man is of God” but now makes known in the most personal way to Jesus himself as faith in Jesus. With an eye to vs. 24 one might say that now, in his encounter with the one sent by God, he is “giving God the praise” in the true sense of the word. With this he gives his testimony concerning Jesus and then disappears from the scene, but now no longer as an unknown blind man but as one who, in more than one sense, has become one who sees (cf. vss. 39f.).

But we still have the question why this detour concerning the Son of man was necessary to bring the healed man to this confession of faith. It is clear that he worshiped Jesus not because Jesus was worthy of this faith and show of adoration but rather because he had been told that the Son of man was Jesus, namely the one who had first given him sight and now sought to bind him to himself in this way. In view of the entire course of the conversation the answer to this question is twofold: First, by this “detour” Jesus—as throughout his self-revelation—wants the miracle he has performed to be understood within the transcendent (“eschatological”) framework of his entire mission. For this the repeated reference to the Son of man clothed with all power (Dn. 7:13ff.) is perhaps the most significant indication. Therefore, as in 5:14, Jesus returns to the healed man to make him conscious of the “greater things” (cf. 1:51) and to place him in a permanent, personal relationship of faith to himself (cf. also 4:50).

Second, it is no less true that the entire course of the conversation proves what it means to “believe” in the Son of man, namely to believe in him who as the Son of man has descended from above, who reveals his glory in “the flesh,” who dwells and lives among people, who has been “seen” by them with their own eyes, and who has spoken with them person to person. This man, who has had to sustain himself by begging (vs. 8), undoubtedly did not have such insight into the prophecies of Daniel and the Son of man messianism of 1 Enoch that on that basis he would worship Jesus as the Son of man. Still it was he who believed in the Son of man, in contrast to the Scripture-trained Pharisees, who “knew” everything so much better. To believe in “the heavenly one” is to fall at his feet as the one who descended from heaven, the incarnate Word. In that faith is realized the separation, the “judgment,” which was given to the Son of man (cf. 5:27) and which is mentioned in what follows as the grand conclusion to be drawn from the story of the beggar who was born blind, his healing, his being cast out, and of his faith.

39 The conclusion of ch. 9, beginning with vs. 39, opens up the meaning of the preceding story and also serves as a characterization of Jesus’ entire public ministry. As indicated in the comments on vss. 35ff., throughout the dispute over this healing Jesus is manifest as the Son of man, the one in whose ministry the distinction of people is realized, what is here called “judgment,” for which Jesus came into the world “so that those who do not see may see, and those who see may become blind.” The word translated “judgment”³⁰⁴ refers not so much to the act as to the effect of the judgment realized in Jesus’ coming into the world. In 3:19f. the coming of the light is also referred to as a “judgment,”³⁰⁵ and we are told how the realization of that judgment occurs already in the present world. It is the people themselves who, by how they react to the coming of the light, place themselves on one side or the other of the line of demarcation that the coming of the light into the world establishes. For that reason Jesus can also say that judgment is not the purpose but the effect of his coming into the world (cf. 3:17f.).

Here, of course, reference to those who are “blind” or can “see” is metaphorical. But the idea is not that the miracle has only a figurative meaning and that the healing of the blind man did not belong to the works of God (vs. 3; cf. 5:17ff.).³⁰⁶ But the purpose of Jesus’ coming as the light of the world is not limited to the removal of physical blindness; it calls for a decision that is not given with the miracle itself. For blindness is not limited to the body. One can gain physical sight and still remain blind (cf. 5:14). For that reason the healing miracle belongs to the judgment for which Jesus came into the world. “Not seeing” here describes the general state of a person before the light of the world has illumined him or her. The way to the light lies open before all. Those who do not “see” are those who imagine that they do see. They “become blind”; “not seeing” becomes “the inability to see.” They think that they see, they turn from the light, and therefore the coming of the light becomes judgment for them.

40, 41 All this is made even more clear in vss. 40 and 41. Suddenly some Pharisees are back on the scene. One must not ask how or when they came to be there or, still less, regard “who were by him” as an indication that they are allies or supporters of Jesus. They are there to speak once more and to make clear in their person the “judgment” of which Jesus has spoken. Their question means something like “But certainly you do not mean to say that we, too, are blind!”³⁰⁷ They understand what Jesus means. But the mere thought that merely as Jesus’ opponents they are “blind” is so absurd that they throw it, in the form of a question, back at Jesus.

In response Jesus again speaks of “blindness” and “seeing.” “If you were blind …” means “if you were lacking only in your ability to see, that would not be a sin and would not stand in the way of your being healed” (any more than it was necessary for the man born blind to speak first of his sin, vss. 1ff.). But in their case things are not that simple. They think: “We can see, we need no other light nor anyone to save us from the darkness.” That being the case, their sin remains. For the state in which a person exists in this world is certainly one of sin (see the comments on 5:14; 8:24; 3:36; cf. 1 Co. 15:7). But it is not sin that cuts a person off from what Jesus wants to give; it is the illusion that one can manage without Jesus as the light of the world. That is why the sin “remains.” If it does not become an object of forgiveness, it remains the object of judgment. It is not sin as such; it is the repudiation of grace that makes a person a lost being (cf. 3:16ff., 36).

10:1-21

The Good Shepherd

John 10 is renowned on account of its depiction of Jesus as the good shepherd and the door of the sheep. Together with Mt. 18:12-14 and Lk. 15:4-7 it is the source and background of what has been throughout the centuries and still is one of the church’s most beloved portrayals of Jesus, which, perhaps most often under the familiar image of the young shepherd with the sheep on his shoulders, has from the dawn of Christian art returned again and again as the symbol of Jesus as Savior. John 10 has contributed to this because there the good shepherd is contrasted with those who as “strangers” or “thieves and robbers” threaten the flock or who as “hirelings” abandon it. Partly as a result of these polemical and antithetical motifs the construction of this chapter is rather fragmentary and not very transparent in its development.

The starting point—vss. 1-6—is what is described as a “figure” (a paroimia or parable) and is not understood as such by the hearers. Thereupon follow two series of pronouncements in vss. 7-10 and 11-18, in which, in close connection with the parable, Jesus first identifies himself with “the door of the sheep,” then with the shepherd himself. All this finds its temporary conclusion in vs. 16, though in vss. 17-18 the thought of vs. 15 is continued, but without the imagery. In vss. 19-21 a reaction again follows from the side of “the Jews,” and with this the first main division of ch. 10 ends. In the second division, which begins with vs. 22 and takes us to the Feast of Dedication, the theme of the good shepherd returns (vss. 26ff.), in clear connection with vss. 1-18.

There is much difference of opinion about the link between the beginning of ch. 10 and the end of ch. 9. The thrust of ch. 10 is very polemical, which does link it materially with the conclusion of ch. 9. But must we assume that in the discourse in 10:1-8, beginning with the solemn “truly, truly” of vs. 1, the rather unclear situation of 9:40f. is still presupposed? Not until vs. 21 is there an echo of the story told in ch. 9. Many expositors believe, therefore, that the text has been disordered (here again) and that a rearrangement of the traditional sequence is advisable. In that connection the hypothesis that two pages of the original manuscript have been interchanged has found the most support. The first is said to have contained vss. 19-29, the second vss. 1-18. If one reverses these two pericopes, the sequence becomes: 9:1-41; 10:19-29; 10:1-18; 10:30-39. Important advantages of this arrangement are that the transition between chs. 9 and 10 becomes smoother and that the sayings concerning the good shepherd are kept together and uttered on the same occasion (the Feast of the Dedication).³⁰⁸ Others go even further in rearranging ch. 10.³⁰⁹ Although the reversal of vss. 1-18 and 19-29 has much that is attractive, most recent commentators reject it partly because scholars of ancient book manufacturing have advanced objections against such an interchange of pages. Whether the Fourth Gospel was in the form of a codex or of a scroll, such a disordering is considered highly unlikely.³¹⁰ Any attempt to explain the supposed confusion of the original sequence in some other way involves an even more difficult hypothetical situation.

Most expositors think, therefore, that we have to be content with the traditional order and must try to understand the chapter before us in its present form.³¹¹ And on closer scrutiny the connection between the end of ch. 9 and the beginning of ch. 10 yields a strong argument for the originality of this transition. Although there is no direct reference back to ch. 9 before 10:21, the new opening (“Truly, truly …”) in 10:1 need not presuppose a new situation. “Truly, truly …” can also be an emphatic continuation of what has just been said, especially of “hard” sayings (cf. 3:3; 6:26, 32; 8:58; 13:38). The retrospective “they”³¹² in vs. 6 and the sharply polemical thrust of the parable are in any case the material continuation of the general trend of the preceding chapters, of Jesus’ criticism of “the Jews’ ” spiritual leadership and of their inability and unwillingness to understand him. With the solemn opening in vs. 1, all this is now subsumed under the new and grand theme of “the good Shepherd.” That this theme comes up directly after ch. 9 in a sharply antithetical form should not surprise us. For where else in the Gospel is the antithesis between good and bad shepherds clearer than in the conflict around the formerly blind man, who is abused and cast out by “the Jews” but searched out by Jesus as a lost sheep of the house of Israel (cf. 9:35ff.)? Where else is “hearing the voice” of the good Shepherd demonstrated more clearly than in the healed man’s clinging to Jesus and his persistent refusal to pay attention to the voice of the Jewish leaders? What at first seems an all too abrupt transition thus proves to be a highly meaningful application of the theme—familiar also from the other Gospels—of Jesus’ pastoral care for the sheep who have no shepherd,³¹³ here undoubtedly (as will be evident later) also determined by Ezekiel 34’s prophecy against the false shepherds and promise of the shepherd whom God himself would appoint over his people (Ezk. 34:23).

Undoubtedly the historical situation thus remains less definite than if one puts vss. 1-18 after vss. 19-29 and hence incorporates them into the conversation with the Jews on the Feast of the Dedication. Then, too, the sayings about the shepherd and the sheep in vss. 26ff., plus the parable in vss. 1-6, are uttered on the same occasion. But the vagueness of the historical situation is characteristic for this entire section (cf. 8:21 [after 8:20]; 9:1 [after 8:59]; 9:40 [after 9:35ff.]). And as far as the link between 10:1-6 and 10:26ff. is concerned, the latter can be understood far better after the former, to which it clearly refers, than if, as would be the case if 10:1-18 and 10:19-29 were transposed, it preceded the parable. With the traditional sequence there is a considerable length of time between vss. 1-6 and vss. 26ff.; but, as has been stated earlier, this backward reference by the Evangelist to motifs treated earlier is characteristic for the construction of his Gospel and not a sign of dislocations.

10:1-6

A Misunderstood Comparison

1-5 As has already been remarked, the sayings—called a “parable” or “comparison” in vs. 6—about Jesus as the good Shepherd are characterized by their strongly antithetical nature. At the very beginning of this new section the Evangelist evokes with great and suggestive emphasis the contrast between the image of the shepherd in his relationship to his sheep and that of the intruder intent on robbery and theft, a figure alien to the sheep. The details of the depictions fit the familiar ancient oriental imagery of the shepherd,³¹⁴ specifically as we encounter it in various forms in the Old Testament.³¹⁵ There is mention of a sheepfold,³¹⁶ an enclosed³¹⁷ space where the sheep were kept at night under the watchful eye of the “gatekeeper.” The combination “thief and robber,” though the two words are not always understood to mean the same thing,³¹⁸ probably refers to one and the same type of intruder (cf. “thief” in vs. 10 as a reference to both). The absence of the article before “shepherd” in vs. 2 need not mean that the reference is to a shepherd (among others) with the sheepfold the place in which all the shepherds have their own sheep. To be sure, vss. 3 and 4 repeatedly mention “his (own)³¹⁹ sheep,” but this is not meant to distinguish this shepherd from others but—as vs. 12 clearly intends—to indicate the bond that unites a shepherd with his sheep: “the sheep that are his.” “Hear his voice” in vs. 3 is pregnant: “recognize his voice,” “prick up their ears.” That he “called them by name,” a picturesque feature, need not mean that all the sheep were regularly and individually called by name.³²⁰ With “he goes before them” (vs. 4) one should compare Nu. 27:17 and Ps. 80:1. The “stranger” in vs. 5 need not, of course, be the thief of vs. 1. There are variations in the imagery to which one need not, on the model of an allegory, ascribe specific metaphorical meanings. The idea is not to identify the thief (etc.) metaphorically but to portray ways in which shepherds distinguish themselves from others in relation to their flocks.

By surveying the whole we can see clearly the focus in the distinction between the shepherd and the thief/robber/stranger. First, the thief and the robber gain access to the sheepfold not by the door but illicitly, but the shepherd enters the sheepfold by the door, the only lawful and normal way. The gatekeeper opens to the shepherd, knowing him as the rightful owner of his sheep, who thus has free access to the flock. Second, between the shepherd and his sheep there is a bond of trust. At the first sound of his voice they prick up their ears and he calls the sheep belonging to him by their familiar name to lead them out. And when he is certain that they have all come out of the sheepfold, he places himself at the head of the flock and they follow him. For they know his voice, and he is familiar to them. But a stranger would not succeed in getting them to follow him. With the same instinctive certainty with which they follow the shepherd they would turn away from a stranger and flee because they did not know his voice. Vss. 7-10 and 11-16 refer back to this twofold distinction of the shepherd from thieves and strangers.

All this finds its provisional conclusion in vs. 6, where what has been said is called a “comparison” and mention is made of the audience’s incomprehension. Much has been written about the meaning of παροιμία (“comparison”).³²¹ The word occurs in the New Testament only here, in 16:25, 29, and in 1 Pt. 2:29. Like παραβολή, which is used most frequently in the Synoptics, and Hebrew mašal, it can have several meanings: comparison, proverb, cryptic saying, riddle, and the like. It has often been taken to mean “allegory” here; hence all the features (sheepfold, gatekeeper, etc.) are assumed to have metaphorical meanings. But some commentators regard these verses, rightly I think, as purely parabolic, the point being merely the contrast between the shepherd and the thief/robber.³²² But here, too, a watertight definition of “parable” or “comparison” is not applicable. In any case we are not dealing here with an allegory, even though the history of exegesis is full of allegorical explanations and has led to the most divergent (arbitrary, and partly fantastic) results. Admittedly, the exposition of the parable in vss. 7-18 makes free use of it by gradually enriching it with new features, including the figure of the hireling (vs. 12) and the self-offering of the shepherd for his sheep (vs. 11). Further, in vss. 7-9 a clearly metaphorical meaning is attributed to “the door” as a central motif in the parable (cf. vss. 1 and 2).³²³ But this does not mean that we may, apart from this explanation of the parable in John 10 itself, spiritualize elements in the parable or declare them to be metaphors. We are therefore bound to stay within the boundaries of vss. 7-16, which offer a comprehensive elaboration of the parable’s twofold thought, without allegorizing all the elements of the parable.

Vs. 6b refers to the audience’s incomprehension with respect to the parable. As in other passages (cf. Mt. 13:10ff.; Mk. 4:10-12), this means, not that the imagery was foreign to them, but that they could (or would) not understand that Jesus used it in its sharply antithetical form to describe his mission, in its intent and effect, over against the way in which the Jewish leaders neglected their calling with regard to God’s people.

10:7-10

“I Am the Door”

In response to the audience’s incomprehension further explanation of the parable is now given in two pericopes, vss. 7-10 and vss. 11-18. In distinction from what Jesus does in corresponding situations in the Synoptic Gospels (cf. Mt. 13:11f., 18, 34; Mk. 4:10ff., 34), he gives this explanation not only to his disciples but in the presence of all who hear him (cf. vss. 19ff.). In the first pericope the focus is on Jesus as the door, in the second on Jesus as the good Shepherd.

7, 8 Again Jesus, with the greatest possible emphasis and openness, removes all doubt about his intent by saying, “Truly, truly, I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.” He repeats this saying without “of the sheep” in vs. 9. In light of vss. 1, 2, and 8a, “of the sheep” apparently means the door that gives access to the sheep and by which the shepherd, unlike the thieves and robbers, enters the sheepfold. If one wishes to restrict in that way the meaning of the door in vs. 7, then Jesus is saying that he alone represents lawful access to the sheepfold, the one “who alone mediates the true pastoral office,” and hence that those who lack his authorization are thieves and robbers.³²⁴ Hence, in distinction from vs. 9, in vs. 7 (and in vss. 1ff.) Jesus is not himself the shepherd, and the two images are therefore in tension.³²⁵ But vs. 9 shows that the meaning is broader: Jesus is also the door through which the sheep enter the sheepfold.³²⁶ In vs. 7 the reference is to the first aspect. Jesus calls himself “the door” in order to describe himself over against the thieves, “who climb in from the outside,” as the only true shepherd. Because he is “the door of the sheep,” he has access to the sheepfold,³²⁷ he exercises pastoral care over the flock, and no one else has the right to manage the flock.

Jesus thus not only ranks himself among trustworthy and good shepherds, in contrast with thieves, but with great emphasis and authority reveals himself as the great Shepherd sent by God to shepherd his people. In this absolute and exclusive sense this saying is on a level with all the great “I am” sayings that proclaim the unique redemptive significance of Jesus’ coming and work. But this saying speaks in particular of the special relationship between God and his people, likened throughout salvation history to that between a Shepherd and his sheep (see in particular Ezekiel 34). By calling himself the door of the sheep and the (good) Shepherd, Jesus reveals himself as the one in whom this (salvation-historical) relationship has its point of concentration, both from the side of God as Shepherd and from that of Israel as the flock (see further under vs. 14).

In vs. 8 this is brought out in its full, critical, and antithetical significance: “All who came before me are thieves and robbers.” The meaning of “all” remains unclear.³²⁸ “Came” points to the pretension with which they appeared in history, as though God had assigned leadership of his people to them, eliminating any need for the (good) Shepherd promised and sent by him. The generalizing “all” need not, of course, exclude the possibility that in his saving action for Israel God also guided his flock by the hands of other true shepherds, who, as such, pointed to the coming of the great Shepherd (cf., e.g., Ps. 77:20). The antithesis with “all” refers rather to the general degradation of spiritual leadership in Israel, which is often spoken of in the Old Testament. In, for example, Ezekiel 34, the prophecy first describes at length the spiritual destruction and misfortune that “the shepherds of Israel” have inflicted on the people and then pictures the coming time of salvation, in which God will “visit” his people and himself assume the shepherd’s task. All this is brought out in words and images that are clearly carried over into John 10³²⁹ and other parts of the New Testament.³³⁰ This link with Ezekiel is the more natural because the prophet expressly refers to the Messiah (34:24ff.) for the fulfillment of this promise of God’s own shepherding. Hence the resistance Jesus experienced from the Jewish leaders will have to be included in the image here of false shepherds and of the flock they neglected and scattered, just as elsewhere also there is mention of Jesus’ compassion for the people “because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Mt. 9:35f.).

The close of vs. 8 adds to this that the false shepherds have also become manifest as such in that “the sheep did not heed them.” Jesus thus refers to the bad experience that the people have had with their spiritual leaders and that separated those “sheep” from those “shepherds.” At the same time, however, it becomes evident here—as more explicitly in vss. 14ff.—that, just as Jesus speaks of himself as the only lawful Shepherd, so by “the sheep” he also means the true people of God who in their unshepherded state kept hoping that God would “see” them and who on hearing the voice of the good Shepherd, “pricked up their ears.”

9, 10 Vs. 9 repeats the saying of vs. 7, now in the absolute form “I am the door.” Now the entire focus is on the salvific meaning that this door has for the sheep. We are dealing with two sides of the same matter. The sheep’s salvation happens because Jesus has access to the sheep as the one who alone controls the flock: “if any one enters by me, he will be saved.” The image and the thing imaged merge. The “entering” is that of the sheep through the door of the sheepfold; but it is also the act of entering into fellowship with Jesus and putting oneself under his protection. Similarly, being “saved” refers both to the security of the sheepfold and to what is portrayed in terms of that security, as in 3:17 (and like, conversely, being “destroyed” in vs. 10; cf. 3:16).

“Come in and go out” in vs. 9b is a general Semitic expression for the course of human life (cf. Dt. 31:2; Ps. 121:8) and does not refer in particular to the sheep going in and out of the sheepfold. Still, these words are directly bound up here with “finding pasture” and are thus incorporated into the image of the Shepherd. Under the Shepherd’s guidance they go in and out, are safe, and find food. But we still have to distance ourselves here from the allegorical method of interpretation, which seeks to extract a figurative meaning in every element (“entry” is “entry into the church or into eternal life” or, more specifically, is applied to the vita contemplativa, and “going out” to the vita activa).³³¹ The Johannine style has a strong bent toward the metaphorical but not the allegorical, and here allegorical interpretation distracts from the main issue, which does not consist in the maximal elaboration of how, but in the all-controlling fact that Jesus is the door and therefore that in him there is salvation, security, and nourishment for the flock.

Therein also lies the contrast with the thief, who “comes” for no other purpose than to gain control over the sheep, to slaughter them, and thus to destroy them (vs. 10). In this connection one must bear in mind the tertium comparationis. Jesus does not picture all those who “came before him” (vs. 8) as bloodthirsty brutes. But what motivates them is not the well-being of the flock but their own desire for profit and power (cf. 5:44). In contrast, the purpose of Jesus’ “coming” is that the sheep, for whom he is the door, will have life, in the sense in which he confers life (cf. 5:24; 3:36; 6:40, 50, etc.), and that in abundance.³³² In a sense “abundance” is included in “life,” but by making it explicit Jesus makes the image of the shepherd that much more attractive. The relationship between shepherd and sheep is marked by the desire and pleasure of the shepherd to give his sheep not just enough but plenty—a characteristic repeatedly mentioned elsewhere (e.g., Psalm 23, Ezekiel 34). It is this trait that has given the image of the good Shepherd its radiance and glory over against all the unevangelical stinginess and pettiness with which people mete out the salvation of the Lord for themselves and others.

10:11-21

“I Am the Good Shepherd”

11a A second application of the parable follows in vss. 11-17, where Jesus twice calls himself the good Shepherd (vss. 11 and 14). It may at first sight seem strange that he first calls himself the door and then the shepherd, but this surprise would be justified only if in vss. 1-5 we were dealing with an allegory. In that case it would be difficult first to apply the door to Jesus, then the shepherd. What happens here, however, is something else: Jesus makes free use of the substance of the comparison.³³³ Actually this second application of the comparison flows naturally from the first. As “the door of the sheep” Jesus provides access both to and for the sheep, and now he is the good Shepherd again in both absolute and exclusive senses.³³⁴ Although other passages mention good shepherds, explicitly or implicitly, and also “worthless” or “evil” shepherds (cf. Ezekiel 34; Zc. 11:17, 15),³³⁵ the intent of the saying here is not simply to place Jesus in the category of good and noble shepherds, those who have a real shepherd’s heart or the like, or to identify him as “the model shepherd,” an example to other shepherds.³³⁶ It is rather, as the repetition in vs. 14 and the associated thought complex (cf. vs. 17) show, to indicate Jesus’ absolute significance, both christological and soteriological, as the one sent by the Father.³³⁷

11b-13 This soteriological significance is centered in what follows in the willingness of the good Shepherd to risk his life for the sheep.³³⁸ From here to vs. 17 this forms the ever-expanding theme of the good Shepherd. To be sure, this is first illumined by the practice of the pastoral life in general. But in that, too, the good Shepherd distinguishes himself from the hireling by risking his life for the sheep. Still, the manner in which it is expressed here, “put his life (at risk) for the sheep,” points, after vs. 10 (“that they may have life”; cf. also vs. 28), toward the vicarious sacrifice that Jesus will have to make for his own.³³⁹ We thus have here a prelude to the deepest secret of Jesus as the good Shepherd (vss. 15b, 17ff.).

Over against the good Shepherd’s readiness to sacrifice himself there is first of all (vss. 12, 13) the image of the hireling. When he sees a wolf coming, he takes to his heels, with fatal consequences for the abandoned sheep, some of whom the wolf “snatches,” causing the rest to look for a place of escape and so “scattering” them. These words form a permanent contrast to Jesus’ care for his sheep (cf. vs. 28; 11:52). Here again exegesis has allegorized the imagery in all sorts of ways, regarding “the wolf” as the devil and “the hireling” as unfaithful bishops and the like. But these descriptions, however applicable to all sorts of persons of earlier or later times, are intended not to identify persons or groups but to illumine the utterly unique tie between the good Shepherd and his sheep.³⁴⁰ Hence the description of the hireling as one “who is not a shepherd.”³⁴¹ For the hireling the essential fact is that “the sheep do not belong to him.” The issue is not lack of financial interest since hired hands were subject to severe penalties for losses that they might have prevented, including losses to predators.³⁴² The issue is, rather (vs. 13), the hireling’s lack of will and courage to stay with the flock in its moment of peril.

Verse 14 tells how different the hireling is from the good Shepherd and what the root of that difference is. Here again we encounter an absolute “I am” saying, this one centered in the reciprocal knowledge of Jesus and his own. Although this knowledge is illustrated from the relationship of trust between the shepherd and his sheep (cf. also vss. 3, 4, and 27), it is something deeper. The imagery has a background in Old Testament usage, specifically in descriptions of the relationship of God and his people. God’s knowledge means that he adopts people into his fellowship, cares about their lot, chooses them as his own, enters into a personal relationship with them, and calls them to his service.³⁴³ The people’s knowledge of God means that they know him as their God and themselves as adopted and called by him and, accordingly, that they act in faith, in the consciousness of being called, in obedience.³⁴⁴ When Jesus, as the good Shepherd, says here that he knows those who are his and that they know him, he represents in his own person that special relationship between God and his people (see the comments on vs. 7 above): in him God is concerned about his people as the people of his own possession. In short, in Jesus, God fulfills his promise that he himself will shepherd his people by appointing one shepherd over them (cf. vs. 16; Ezk. 34:15ff., 23ff.), so that in Jesus the sheep of God’s flock will know God and hear God’s voice.

That Jesus represents this shepherding in an absolute and exclusive way is evident also in vs. 15, where the reciprocal knowledge of Jesus and his own is traced to God’s knowledge of him and his knowledge of the Father. “As the Father has known me” has not only a comparative meaning but also a causal meaning: Jesus’ knowledge of and by his own is rooted in the mutual knowledge of the Father and the Son. This context of the mutual “knowing” is characteristic for the Johannine kerygma, which repeatedly mentions Jesus’ knowledge of the Father (7:29; 8:55; 14:31; 17:25), but the Father’s knowledge of Jesus only here. The latter precedes and is the presupposition of the former. The good pleasure of the Father is focused on the Son, who is the object of his love and the one who carries out his work of salvation (3:35; 5:20; 15:9; 17:23ff.). This mutual knowledge and love are basic to Jesus’ knowledge of his own and confer on it its unique character. Therefore, whoever knows Jesus also knows the Father (8:19; 14:7), and the Father loves those who love Jesus and believe in him (16:27), just as he has loved Jesus (17:23).

Against the background of this knowledge vs. 15b repeats “and put my life [at risk] for the sheep” from vs. 11. For it is in that self-offering that Jesus’ shepherding finds its culmination. The Son’s knowledge of and love for the Father is directed to that self-offering, in which God’s eternal love in Jesus forces itself into the world (vs. 17; cf. 3:16).

The Gospel has already mentioned Jesus’ voluntary self-offering to death in the enigmatic saying “and the bread that I will give for the life of the world is my flesh” (6:51). Now the means of this self-offering assumes concrete form, in such a way that it must have become clear to Jesus’ audience, in the price that the good Shepherd must pay for his sheep if they are not—like sheep who merely have a hireling watching them—to be snatched from his hand.³⁴⁵ Their life is his death, and his death is their life. Not that this explains everything. The full reality of his vicarious self-offering cannot be described within the scope of this metaphor. The sequel (vss. 17ff.) will show in what respect and to what extent it transcends the metaphor.

The clear continuation of the thought of vs. 15 in vss. 17 and 18 is interrupted by vs. 16, which some consequently think was the work of a later hand.³⁴⁶ But the thought of vs. 16 returns in 11:52 and 17:20 and was therefore not alien to the Evangelist, who may well then have inserted it himself either as part of the original composition or later.

The question is then what, before continuing this line of thought in vs. 17, he intended by first speaking of Jesus’ “other sheep,” which can only refer, according to the majority of interpreters, to believers from among the Gentiles.³⁴⁷ Some expositors believe that the reference to Jesus’ death provided the occasion for speaking of the Gentiles since it was only by his death that the Gentiles gained access (cf. 12:20, 23f.).³⁴⁸ But it seems that the image of the good Shepherd (which is abandoned after vs. 16) demanded this additional comment. Shepherd imagery was used of God’s covenant with Israel, but with the coming of the one “good Shepherd” the limits of Israel were exceeded. The mutual knowledge of the Father and the Son (vs. 15), as the basis of salvation, embraced a broader horizon than just Israel (cf. 4:23). Therefore, Jesus cannot mention “his own,” as in vs. 15, without bringing into view the “others.” That is why vs. 16 is there between vs. 15 and vss. 17ff.

Jesus speaks of the “other sheep, not of this fold,” that belong to him (“I have”), repeating an element (the “sheepfold”) from the parable (cf. vs. 1). The “sheepfold” represents the whole of historic Israel, “out of” which Jesus calls his sheep. The negative (“not of this fold”) means therefore that these others are from the Gentile world. Of these Jesus says that he must “lead” them too, that is, be a shepherd to them. According to some interpreters, the background here is the image of the eschatological gathering of the scattered flock mentioned from time to time in the Old Testament (e.g., Ezk. 37:15ff.; Mi. 2:12), though there it always refers to the lost sheep of Israel. Is. 56:6-8 does speak of bringing foreigners to Mount Zion and of the Lord, who “gathers the outcasts of Israel,” gathering yet others to himself.³⁴⁹ Still, however close this passage is to Jn. 10:16, the latter refers not to gathering scattered sheep but to “leading” (going before) the sheep (in contrast to Jn. 11:52), and does not say that the Gentiles will be added to the people of Israel (which has been restored into a gathered flock). What happens here is that “sheep” are placed alongside “sheep” and together, without distinction, form the one flock (cf. again 11:52). Of these “others” it is then said: “and they will hear my voice,” namely as sheep who already belong to him, and this “hearing” will, in this case, have to be understood of the voice extended to them in Jesus’ apostles (cf. 17:20; 20:21ff.).

The closing words, “so there will be³⁵⁰ one flock and one shepherd,” seem to point to a certain expectation or prospect,³⁵¹ namely that of the one Shepherd (cf. Ezk. 34:23; 37:24) but also of the flock (cf. Mi. 2:12; Ezk. 37:15ff.). The main thought here is that with the coming of the good Shepherd there will no longer be any scattered sheep of Israel (in accord with the nature of true shepherding; cf. Mt. 12:30 and the Old Testament citations) or any distinction among sheep from whatever “fold” they may have come. The one flock will be as wide as the world. Membership in the people of God will no longer be restricted to one nation or one place of worship but will embrace all who “worship the Father in spirit and in truth” (4:23, 24). But there will be no unity other than that of those who belong to the one Shepherd.

This portrayal of the future is where the comparison (parable) and its explanation end. The explanation has increasingly broken out of the boundaries of the parable. In vss. 17 and 18, which now follow, the parable is completely left behind, but the ideas derived from it are developed further in nonmetaphorical terms.

J. L. Martyn gives a totally different explanation of vs. 16. It must be understood, he says, against the background of what occurred in and around “the Johannine community,” which is represented by the “sheepfold” of this verse. In place of “lead” (ἀγαγεῖν) one should follow the reading of ⁶⁶, συναγαγεῖν, which Martyn takes as referring to the gathering of what has been scattered (cf. 11:52). This meaning is said to be discoverable from vs. 12, where the sheep are scattered by the wolf. This wolf is said to refer “allegorically” to the Jewish authorities, who because of the cowardice of the “hireling” (secretly believing rulers who at the critical moment abandon the Johannine community) have the opportunity to “scatter” the community. This scattering served as a “Johannine reinterpretation” of the classic motif of the Jewish dispersion among the nations and took the form of the Johannine community’s banishment from the synagogue by the introduction of the anti-Christian curse in the Eighteen Benedictions (see the comments above on 9:22). The “other sheep” of vs. 16a are probably other Jewish Christians who have also been scattered as a result of their excommunication from the synagogue. The gathering of the sheep is the vision of the day on which “all of the conventicles of scattered Jewish Christians” will be gathered into one flock under the one good Shepherd, who will be active through the authors of the Johannine Gospel, who despite the threat of martyrdom receive the assurance that the Jewish authorities will never be able to snatch one member of the community from the hands of Jesus and the Father.³⁵²

This explanation illustrates how the Fourth Gospel becomes one great cryptogram if one regards it as above all a reflection of conditions in the “Johannine community.” The main interpretive key must consistently be sought in the highly uncertain exegesis of the word ἀποσυνάγωγος (see the comments above on 9:22, 34). Against this method of interpreting vs. 16 the following objections must be raised: First, the idea that the parable in John 10 is an allegory leads to artificial results. “The wolf,” like the “thieves,” the “robbers,” and the “stranger,” becomes the Jewish authorities, and the “hireling” becomes the crypto-Christian Jewish leaders of 12:42, 43. Second, even if one reads συναγαγεῖν in place of ἀγαγεῖν in vs. 16, the verse clearly mentions sheep who, unlike the sheep of “this fold,” have not yet heard Jesus’ voice and have not been brought to the flock. Hence there can be no question here of gathering Christians dispersed in separate conventicles. Third, the unity under one shepherd mentioned here does not consist in establishing more contact or fellowship among already existing groups of Christians. It comes into being, rather, as appears from vss. 27-29, as all that the Father has given the one Shepherd/Son is brought under the protection of that one Shepherd. Therefore, fourth, the “snatching” by the wolf and the scattering that results from it cannot refer to synagogal measures against Christians but (if one views it as a metaphor) can only mean what it is called in vss. 27-29: “snatching” out of “my hand” and the hand of the Father. Not even the curse added to the Eighteen Benedictions could bring that about.

Verse 17 continues the thought of vs. 15. The fact that the Father “loves” the Son keeps coming back in this Gospel (see above). “Love” here is a synonym of “know” in vs. 15. It is not to be understood so much in the sense of an affective relationship between the Father and the Son as of the effective “being” of the Father “with” the Son. He does not leave him (cf. 8:16, 29; 16:32). Because he loves the Son, the Father “gives” everything into the Son’s hands (3:35), “shows” him everything (5:20), gives him life in himself (5:26), and gives his own glory (17:24) and name (17:26; cf. 17:12). In his love the Father always and in all things stands behind the Son. Therefore, in “For this reason the Father loves me, because I lay down my life,” the idea is not that by giving his life the Son thus gains the Father’s love (cf. 17:24). It is rather that in the self-offering of his life the Son follows the Father’s mandate (cf. vs. 18) and thus enjoys his approval, which is evident from the fact that he also takes up again the life he lays down.

“I lay down my life, that I may take it again” makes clear to what degree the image of the good Shepherd transcends that of all other shepherds, however “good” they may be. “In order that” (ἵνα) does not mean that he would die simply in order to take up his life again in resurrection, as though he would merely give up the lesser for the greater. For he is not taking that road on his own behalf. What causes the love of the Father to go out toward the Son and enables the Son to take up again the life he has laid down is that he goes down that road as the good Shepherd—that is, from unbounded love for his own (cf. 13:1). If they are to have life and abundance (cf. vss. 10, 28ff.), he must offer up his life. The all-controlling idea here is that the driving force and deepest explanation of Jesus’ self-offering and resurrection lie in the plan and strategy of the love of the Father for his Son and hence also in the authority that the Father has given the Son with respect to that self-giving and receiving back of life.

It is of that finally that vs. 18 speaks, first of all negatively: “No one takes it from me.” This pronouncement is that of one who has power over his own life, not only as a good shepherd, as one who manages to give up the last thing he has for his flock before he has to let it go and surrender it to the cruelties of evil powers and people, but as the good Shepherd, the one who holds the initiative even when others—human or demonic powers—seemingly decide his fate and that of his flock. Hence the repeated “I have power”—power to lay life down and to take it up.

The expression “lay down”³⁵³ suggests taking off a garment and seems to correspond, not only verbally but also in substance, with what Jesus does in 13:4, 12. There also it is evident how power and love go together: the Lord remains the Lord, but he lays aside everything for his own (cf. 13:6, 12). When he is about to be bound, he has all things in his hands, for he allows himself to be bound in order that his own may go free (cf. 18:6-8). The idea that the suffering and death of Jesus was also an example of his glory and power is characteristic for the Gospel of John. But that power is not the power of one who is so far above suffering and death that they cannot touch him, not that of a god who walks through death on earth, but that of the good Shepherd, of the one who saves the life of his sheep only by giving up his own life, a power qualified, therefore, by the deepest self-denial (cf. ch. 13 again). For that reason one can speak, aside from power, also of the father’s command or charge (cf. 14:31). It is in that charge and that power that Jesus’ shepherding transcends the image of every other “good shepherd.” He is the good Shepherd in the absolute sense of that word (see the comments on vs. 11). Or, as we read elsewhere, he is “the great Shepherd of the sheep whom the God of peace brought again from the dead” (Hb. 13:20).

Finally, one may ask what the background of this vicarious self-offering is. Instinctively one’s mind goes to the saying of the Baptist: “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (1:29, 36). Still, in the parable’s line of thought it is not the sin-removing or purging power of Jesus’ self-offering in death (as in 13:8) that is the dominant motif. It is rather, as becomes clear in vss. 27 and 28, because of the power of the destruction that his own face that he as the good Shepherd must offer up his life in order to save them. And that not as a price he pays to those powers (the devil?) but because he who is from above makes himself one with his own, enters into their distress, and takes it upon himself. This is not in conflict with what shapes the vicarious character of Jesus’ suffering and death elsewhere in the Gospel (and in the entire New Testament). It subsumes it, rather, under an aspect that is characteristic of how the Fourth Gospel again and again interprets the descent of the Son of man and the incarnation of the Word in their soteriological significance.

Verses 19-21 describe the divided reaction—the σχίσμα—that the preceding words “again” produced among “the Jews.” “Again” might recall 7:43, where σχίσμα was also used. But it is more natural to think of an allusion here to 9:16, which relates not only to the same matter as that to which the “others” appeal (the healing of the man born blind) but also totally corresponds in structure with 10:20, 21. As was discussed earlier, some expositors see in this reflection of ch. 9 an indication that vss. 19ff. originally formed the transition from ch. 9 to ch. 10 and that in the transmission of the text the order of the pericopes was changed. But, apart from what was said earlier against this hypothesis and in favor of the order handed down, the content of vss. 19-21 itself also speaks against such a transposition. The tone and content of the reaction of those who now reject Jesus have become much more fierce than in 9:16, which, after the absolute authority with which Jesus has spoken in vss. 17-18 and that is reflected in vs. 19, is easily explicable and makes more sense than after the concluding passage of ch. 9.

Again “many of them” charge Jesus with being possessed and demented (see the comments on 7:20; 8:48). They ask each other, “Why listen to him any longer?”³⁵⁴ Others, however, apparently a minority, bring up the issue of the miracle Jesus performed in the life of a blind man (vs. 21). Over and over the absurdity of the charges of Jesus’ enemies was recognized within their own circle (cf. 9:16). Again the importance of Jesus’ miracles comes powerfully to the fore here.³⁵⁵ Actually Jesus’ words should be enough (cf. 8:14). But if someone does not believe in Jesus on the basis of his words, then that person should still believe on the basis of Jesus’ deeds. At the conclusion of the following pericope Jesus confronts “the Jews” with just that thought.

10:22-39

Final Dialogues with “the Jews”

22, 23 These dialogues with “the Jews” take place on the feast of the renewal or dedication of the temple, which lasted eight days and kept alive the memory of the restoration of the temple under Judas Maccabeus on Kislev 25, 165 B.C., after its desecration by the Syrians. The feast was celebrated in the manner of the Feast of Tabernacles.³⁵⁶ Apparently it did not have the importance of a great pilgrim feast like Passover and Tabernacles.

Apparently, Jesus was still in or near Jerusalem rather than where he was in 7:2ff. Mention of the feast again accentuates the fact that in these chapters the central focus is Jesus’ confrontation with the Jews at the center of Jewish life. There is, however, no clear relationship between the feast and the content of the dialogues in vss. 29-39.³⁵⁷ “It was winter,” Kislev 25 falling in December, and mention of that fact marks for the reader unfamiliar with this feast the progression of time between the Feast of Tabernacles in ch. 7 and the Passover of Jesus’ death. That his confrontation with the Jews is moving to an end is also clear from vs. 24. Some expositors link “it was winter” with the spiritual climate or say that it explains Jesus’ stay in Solomon’s portico, a walled space on the east side of the temple affording protection against the cold (see, however, Ac. 3:11; 5:12). But both explanations seem far-fetched. Such local and temporal indications, as also in 8:20, etc., furnish proof, rather, of how the memory of certain historical situations was perpetuated in the tradition.

24 Here again it is “the Jews” who come to Jesus and gather around him. Abruptly they ask him the question that has been in the background of all their disputes with Jesus (cf. 7:28, 31, 41ff.; 9:22). Now they demand an answer. They charge that Jesus is keeping them (their “soul”) in suspense³⁵⁸ by letting them guess his intent, namely whether or not he is the Christ. Their question is reminiscent of what the high priest in the Sanhedrin asks Jesus in Mt. 26:63; Lk. 22:67.³⁵⁹ It is based, both here and there, on the fact that Jesus did not claim publicly to be the Messiah, which corresponds with his refusal in the Synoptic Gospels to allow people to call him the Messiah or make him known as the Messiah (the so-called messianic secret, Mk. 8:30 par.; cf. Mk. 1:34; 5:43; 7:36; 9:9). Such a rumor would have led only to false conclusions and false expectations (cf. Jn. 6:14, 15) because the people and apparently also their leaders had messianic expectations other than those Jesus met (cf. 7:31, 41ff.). Still, the way in which Jesus spoke of his relationship to God as his Father was such that the thought of him being the Messiah, the Redeemer and Ruler promised by God, almost had to take root.

25, 26 Jesus answers that the cause of their negative attitude toward him is not the vagueness of his self-revelation but their own unbelief. “I told you” does not mean that he has in so many words made himself known as the Christ but that he has not left them in doubt as to his true identity and authority to speak to them. “But you remain unbelieving.”³⁶⁰ All that should have convinced them bounced off their stubborn refusal to recognize him for who he was. Again—and toward the end this becomes characteristic for his whole self-witness to the Jews (see below)—Jesus appeals to the works he has done and continues to do³⁶¹ “in my Father’s name” and that bear witness to him (see the comments on 5:36ff.). These miracles in their all-surpassing power speak for themselves (cf. 9:32, 33). But Jesus, far from performing them as proof of his own importance (cf. 5:19ff.; 8:28; 14:10, etc.), has consistently done them “in my Father’s name,” with reference to the Father and his glory. Accordingly, the root of “the Jews’ ” unbelief is not the ambiguity or vagueness of Jesus’ words or actions, by which he has kept them in suspense (vs. 24); it goes deeper: “you do not believe because you do not belong to my sheep” (vs. 26).

Here again (see the comments on 6:44ff.) commentators often refer to “Johannine predestinationism.”³⁶² Undoubtedly the reference here is to the deepest grounds of faith and unbelief. “My sheep,” after all, are those whom “the Father has given me” (cf. vs. 29; 6:37ff., etc.). The text speaks of a predetermined situation, but it is rooted not in a divine decree but in “belonging to” and living out of a spiritual field of dynamics other than that in which Jesus’ sheep are. Elsewhere this is described as being “born of the flesh,” “from below,” “of this world” (e.g., 3:7ff.; 8:23). It is this sin-conditioned situation, in its hopelessness and lostness (cf. 8:34ff.), with which Jesus repeatedly confronts his opponents and to which, as here in vss. 27ff., he counterposes his sheep, who listen to his voice and receive eternal life in him.

It is not the case, however—and here lies the permanent meaning of this confrontation—that the situation is closed from God’s side, as if Jesus has been sent by the Father merely to note that fact and to proclaim it as immutable. The purpose is, rather, to the bitter end, against the blindness and impotence of unbelief, to pose the miracle of the faith that “hears” the voice of the good Shepherd, not as a humanly impossible possibility whose outcome can only be awaited, but as a permanent road to life proclaimed by Jesus to the end as an open road (cf. vs. 37). Faith remains a miracle of God’s gift and of the power of the Spirit. It does not disclose its secret (cf. 3:3, 8) and is realized in a person’s life only by God. But God does not do so apart from that person but as that person “gives heed,” on God’s authority and by God’s power, to the invitation and command to believe (cf. 5:8, 25).³⁶³ Even though it becomes increasingly clear that the confrontation between Jesus and “the Jews” is moving toward an irreparable break, still to the end the invitation to believe continues to form the basic note of the message he extends to them.

It is against this background that the content of vss. 27-28 must be understood.³⁶⁴ Over against the impatient (“How long …,” vs. 24) and negative attitude of “the Jews” Jesus describes “my sheep,” who “hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me” (cf. vs. 14). These “sheep” are not in doubt about his identity; they know him as he knows them and follow him, their Shepherd, when he goes before them. Full emphasis is laid here on the imperishable and unassailable character of the gift that Jesus, as the good Shepherd, gives the sheep. That gift is described here (as in 5:24) as “eternal life” (undoubtedly again in its present significance). The sheep will never “be lost” (see the comments on vs. 10), not only as a loss to the Shepherd (cf. Lk. 15:4, 6) but also such that they will never be “sheep without a shepherd” (Mt. 9:36). The figurative and the literal meanings of the saying merge (cf. 3:16), as is evident from the addition “forever.” The same is true of the words “snatch them out of my hand” in vs. 28b. The imagery stems from vs. 12, where the “wolf” is the subject. “No one” is as broad as possible; it need not be understood particularly of the devil. No power in the world can break the bond between this Shepherd and his sheep (cf. Ro. 8:35ff.).

29 Here Jesus again appeals to his Father. Precisely in what he gives to his own he becomes recognizable in his true identity, namely in his unity with the Father.

The explanation of this text, which comes down to us in many variants, involves considerable difficulties. The reading that many expositors consider original can best be translated “That which the Father has given me [i.e., the sheep; cf. 6:37, 39] is greater than all; and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand.” The text expresses, according to this reading, the all-surpassing value that the flock has for the good Shepherd. It is “greater than all,”³⁶⁵ “above everything or all,”³⁶⁶ “the most precious of all.”³⁶⁷ Other commentators believe that such an absolute pronouncement, understood of the flock, could hardly be intended by the Evangelist.³⁶⁸ They therefore follow a reading according to which the Father is the subject of “is greater.” The “soundest” reading that gives expression to this view would be translated “My Father, who has given [them] to me, is greater than all [or “than everything”].” This reading, of course, makes good sense. Moreover, vs. 29b would then fit better with vs. 29a. But it leaves unanswered why this very natural reading was replaced in the textual tradition by another. Everything favors the first reading text-critically, but there is much to be said for the second on the basis of content,³⁶⁹ which is why I prefer it.

It is clear that vs. 29 seeks to give a further explanation or confirmation of vs. 28. It does so by saying that the Father vouches for what he has charged Jesus to do as the good Shepherd for the sheep and equates himself with Jesus in the preservation of the flock. The “hand” of Jesus is also the hand of the Father.

30 This last reality finds expression in the grand saying with which Jesus’ answer to “the Jews’ ” question ends: “I and the Father are one.” Calvin comments on this verse that “the ancients made a wrong use of this passage to prove that Christ is of the same essence with the Father (ὁμοούσιος).” For, he adds, “Christ does not argue about the unity of substance, but about the agreement that he has with the Father, so that whatever is done by Christ [his “works”] will be confirmed by the power of his Father.”³⁷⁰ By saying this Calvin rightly holds us to the context. In support of the authority with which he speaks, Jesus does not simply appeal to what he is in himself but, in keeping with the whole line of thought in this pericope, to what he is and does for his own: he could not be the good Shepherd or speak thus about his sheep if he did not know himself to be one with the Father in all this.

31, 32 But this last remark again ignites the anger of “the Jews” (as in 5:18; 6:42; 10:20) and makes them, as before (cf. 8:59), take up stones to kill him. Still, a final fierce dispute follows. While they already have the stones in their hands, Jesus confronts them one more time with their blindness and the irrationality of their hatred of him. Again he appeals to his works: “I have shown³⁷¹ you many good works³⁷² from the Father; for which of these do you want to stone³⁷³ me?” The question highlights the dispute in all its sharpness. Jesus had not come to them with claims of his own glory and divinity that they then had to swallow. When he spoke to them of his divine Sonship and his oneness with the Father, he had consistently done so in conjunction with his saving deeds as works done “from the Father” and as a witness to him. For which of these many deeds—which as overwhelming testimony to his having been sent cannot be denied—were they now planning to stone him?

It is remarkable to see how Jesus now lays the entire weight of his having been sent and his oneness with the Father on his works—not only in their supernatural character but rather in their salvific character. Still, as in 7:3, 21, the reference is to his works as miraculous actions. Elsewhere “works” embraces the totality of Jesus’ lifework, that is, his words as well as his miracles (cf. 4:34; 17:4), and his words are called “the works” of God (14:10).³⁷⁴ It is as if, over against people who proved to be deaf to his words, Jesus here makes a final appeal to the undeniable character of his many “good” deeds. Certainly they could not exclude those actions from consideration, even if they could still argue in the abstract about the identity of he who did them!

33 To such reasoning, however, they were not open. Their logic worked differently. If they had to deal only with his deeds, they would not stone him. Even his violation of the sabbath for these deeds was not the most important issue (cf. 5:18). What had them up in arms and what they could no longer tolerate was how he did not cease³⁷⁵ to equate himself with God. This was conduct for which—whatever else he might do or have done—there was no excuse in their eyes and which deserved no other name than blasphemy and no punishment other than the stipulated death by stoning (cf. Lv. 24:16).

It is certainly no accident that with this statement the final encounter between Jesus and “the Jews” in chs. 5–10 returns to the first. There they brought exactly the same charge against him: “he made himself equal with God” (5:18). The Evangelist could hardly have more effectively clarified where the break lay between Jesus and “the Jews” and why they wanted to kill Jesus (and the basis also for the antithesis between the Christian church and the Jewish synagogue): they rejected as blasphemy his self-revelation as the Son of God.

34, 35 Accordingly, Jesus’ answer relates totally to the charge of blasphemy and must be understood as such. His appeal to Scripture is introduced with an established formula: “Is it not written …?” The telling addition “in your law” (see also the comments on 8:12) apparently means: in the law that to uphold, considering your attempt to kill me, is so important to you. This is not to say that this appeal to Scripture is only an ad hominem argument that applied only to them. “It is written” is no less authoritative for Jesus than for them (cf. vs. 35b).

The text on which Jesus bases himself is the divine statement in Ps. 82:6: “I say, ‘you are gods.’ ” Who is addressed here is answered in a number of ways, as is whether Jesus’ intent is that of the Psalm or if he deviates from that original idea. Some expositors think that here (as in Psalm 82 itself?)³⁷⁶ we are dealing with angels, specifically as authorities for and guardian spirits of the nations. This view has found some support in the Qumran literature.³⁷⁷ Still, as far as the meaning of our text is concerned—whatever one’s view of the original meaning in Psalm 82—this interpretation has hardly any support.³⁷⁸ Here the reference is to the relationship between God and human beings. Accordingly, as in Psalm 82, the addressees are usually taken to be judges, who are called in the name of God to administer justice and at their appointment are therefore given the honorific title “gods.”³⁷⁹ But nothing in the present context suggests this judicial role.³⁸⁰ The reference to Psalm 82 seems rather to have a broader import. In Jn. 10:35 the people thus addressed are further defined as those “to whom the word of God came,” a formula often also used elsewhere for those called by God to speak or act in his name (cf., e.g., Gn. 5:1; Jr. 1:25; Ho. 1:1; Jl. 1:1; Mi. 1:1; Zp. 1:1; 1 Sa. 15:10; Lk. 3:2). It is in that more general sense (not just applying it to judges) that this oracle of Psalm 82 constitutes the argument here, which begins with “if.”³⁸¹

A second point of support follows: “and [if] scripture cannot be broken.”³⁸² Some commentators think that this clause describes the words of Psalm 82 as a promise or a prophecy that is fulfilled in Jesus. The assumption is then that the “gods” in the Psalm are judges, and point to Jesus as the coming world judge, the role in which he often reveals himself in John (as the Son of man; cf. 3:17; 5:22; 8:15, 16; 9:39).³⁸³ But this view is not supported in the text. There is no echo here of the judicial role of those addressed in Psalm 82 and no indication that we are dealing with a fulfillment of a prophetic word of Scripture. The word “broken”³⁸⁴ means only that because of Scripture’s authority the utterance in the Psalm, however strange it may sound, is not to be tampered with.

In vs. 36 follows the conclusion—in the form of a rhetorical question—concerning the charge of blasphemy brought against Jesus. Much emphasis lies on “you”: “Do you then [in opposition to the words of God and the inviolability of the Scripture] dare to say of him whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world, ‘You are blaspheming,’ because I said, ‘I am the Son of God’?”

It has sometimes been said that the comparison here is between unlike things (the deity of those addressed in Psalm 82 and the deity of Jesus) and therefore that we have to do with reasoning that is not free from sophistry.³⁸⁵ Many other expositors have advanced against this that the conclusion here is reached by argument from the lesser to the greater: if this “you are gods” already applies to …, etc., then how much more to …,” etc. Although the majority believe that there is such an a fortiori argument here,³⁸⁶ it seems that this transposes the point of the argument. Jesus does consistently put himself in a totally unique relationship to God, one that differs essentially from that of the bearers of the Word of God in the Old Testament (see, e.g., the comments above on 5:19). But still it is remarkable that in vss. 35 and 36 Jesus deliberately refrains from mentioning this difference. The explicit a fortiori element (“how much more …”) is lacking, and “whom the Father has consecrated and sent into the world” does not describe Jesus over against earlier bearers of the Word of God as “the unique vehicle of God.”³⁸⁷ Precisely such descriptions of the uniqueness of Jesus’ mission are lacking in the text. It is the mission of those to whom the Word of God came in the past that is pointed out. It could and indeed was said that they were “consecrated” (set aside and equipped) and “sent,” with a worldwide mandate (cf. Jr. 1:2, 5, 7, in which all these ideas come together!). And if in this argument Jesus’ purpose was to justify his claim to his unique relationship to God as his Father from Scripture, then would such an argument from the lesser to the greater be compelling? For how could Jesus, for the greater importance of his Sonship, appeal to that which was qualitatively less? Then, certainly, that uniqueness would remain in dispute.

Accordingly, the argumentation in vss. 34-36 has a different point. As in vs. 30, the idea is not to “prove” from Scripture the unique ontological unity of Jesus and the Father or the qualitative distinction between Jesus’ mission and the mission of those to whom the Word of God came in the past. It is, rather, to invalidate the charge that, by calling himself the Son of God, he is a blasphemer.³⁸⁸ The appeal to Psalm 82 was adequate for that purpose even though the reference was not directly to Jesus himself. All that he told “the Jews” is that in their imagined zeal for God’s honor they directly contradicted God in his self-revelation. For, as the word of Scripture shows, God himself does not feel diminished in his rights or honor by identifying himself with people to whom his Word comes, nor does he on that account shrink from addressing them as “gods.” Evidently God is different from how “the Jews” pictured him. He is not merely God in himself. From of old he extended himself to share himself with people in order thus, in the relationship he established with them and with the authority of the Word with which he invested them, to be known as God.

When Jesus therefore witnessed to his unity with God and called himself the Son of God, this in itself by no means meant that he made himself into God, on his own initiative attributing that honor to himself, and therefore had to be viewed as a blasphemer. All that was at issue between him and his accusers was whether he was credible in what he did and said in God’s name. Just as God cannot be known apart from those to whom his Word has come and apart from the mission of his Son, so also Jesus cannot be known in his unity with the Father apart from the effective way in which God acts with him in that relationship and identifies himself with him.³⁸⁹ How far and how deep that unity goes is not yet in view here.³⁹⁰ The appeal to Psalm 82 merely points out the line of thought in which that relationship can be understood. If they are ever to understand anything about Jesus, they will first have to understand something of God as he has revealed himself, not merely in his unapproachable oneness and heavenly glory, but also in his self-communicating will to save, in which “his Word came.”

Some commentators, appealing to certain rabbinic texts, take “those to whom the Word of God came” to be the people of Israel at Mount Sinai.³⁹¹ A. Hanson goes much further by adding that by this Word of God that came to Israel the preexistent Word was meant.³⁹² On that basis, and with an eye to the further content of Psalm 82, he arrives at an argument from the lesser to the greater. But regardless of this complex elaboration the idea that certain rabbinic theories are in view here is not very plausible. First, the established formula “to whom the Word of God came” refers to the bearers of the Word and not its recipients. There is no evidence that the Evangelist deviated from this use of the formula. Second, in Psalm 82 Israel is not the people to whom the Word of God came. Third, among the rabbinic interpretations of Psalm 82 there are, besides the one cited, others that take the ones “to whom the Word of God came” not as Israel but as Israel’s divinely appointed judges.³⁹³ Fourth, the whole notion that the receiving the Word of God (except through those who had to speak his Word on his behalf) made people “gods,” as far as I can see does not occur in any biblical context.

Verses 37-39 continue, elaborate, and clarify the thought of vss. 34-36. The opening statement, “If I am not doing the works of my Father, then do not believe me,” again emphasizes—but now in a very radical form—the inviolable unity of Jesus’ person and work. He makes the credibility of his person and of his coming into the world dependent on his work, understood as “the works of the Father.” Inquiries into his identity (cf. vs. 24) apart from his works are therefore not meaningful, any more than he requires faith in what he is apart from the many-sided witness to what he does (cf. 5:31ff.). That is not to say that Jesus’ identity is based on what he does. The reverse is the case.³⁹⁴ But he can be known and believed as Christ, the Son of God, only in answer to whether what he does and says³⁹⁵ are of God, are “works of the Father,” and not a result of abstract thought or talk concerning his person. The believing insight that Jesus and the Father are one, which therefore acknowledges him also as the Son of God and as God, is not the first thing, but in a sense the last thing, that faith can appropriate (cf. 20:28).

Verse 38 takes another step along this line of thought: “but if I do them,” that is, these works of the Father, a fact that some of Jesus’ opponents apparently cannot deny (cf. 9:16; 10:21), “and you still³⁹⁶ do not believe in me, then believe the works,” that is, as works of God. Jesus does not say that then they will bear no further obligation to believe in him. The apodosis here conveys something quite otherwise. Nevertheless, as the one sent by the Father, Jesus can retreat behind his works. Where faith in his works as works of God breaks through and persists,³⁹⁷ the way has become open for what he says in the apodosis as his last inviting word to “the Jews”: “that you may learn to know and continue to understand³⁹⁸ that the Father is in me and I am in the Father.” Here again, faith in the works is the way to true insight into what is fundamentally realized and becomes visible in the coming of Jesus: his unity with the Father. That is not to say that faith in miracles automatically leads to the belief that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, in whom God inaugurates his reign (see the comments on 3:2, 3, where Nicodemus is told that only birth from above can enable a person to see the kingdom of God). But when “faith in the works” (as in the case of the man born blind) does not stop at that which meets the eye but probes further and asks about the “whence,” then the way of the new birth opens in seeing Jesus with different eyes and in hearing his voice as that of the good Shepherd.³⁹⁹

With these words the last exchange in the great confrontation between Jesus and “the Jews” in chs. 5–10 ends. It ends in a final appeal in which Jesus retreats, as it were, behind his “works,” in order yet once more to lay on the conscience of his adversaries the salvific character of his coming as the incontrovertible witness that he has been sent by the Father. But in consequence of this appeal to shed their blindness and to engage in reflection, their aversion to him becomes all the stronger. Again (vs. 39; cf. 7:30) they attempt to lay hold on him and arrest him. But again his hour has not yet come and he escapes from their hands (cf. 8:59).

10:40-42

Back to the Beginning

The last verses of ch. 10 form a clear break in the construction of the Gospel. They note Jesus’ departure to Transjordan, apparently where he could be safe, at least for a time. This also signals the end of Jesus’ public ministry until his final journey to take part in the coming Passover celebrations (cf. 11:55f.; 12:1ff.). Only on hearing that his friend Lazarus is sick, and then against his disciples’ opposition, will Jesus go once more to Bethany—even then continuing to work while it is day (11:9). Then, after this last great miracle in the circle of his friends, he will again seek out a place where he can be in seclusion (11:54).

Verse 40 tells us that Jesus returned⁴⁰⁰ to the Jordan, “to the place where John at first baptized.”⁴⁰¹ The Evangelist thus, as we will see, defines this journey as a return to the starting point of Jesus’ ministry, that is, to the witness that John the Baptist gave at that place concerning Jesus. What has happened since that beginning is put in the perspective of “how everything began” by this summation, this evaluation of the end in light of the beginning. True, John himself was no longer there to witness to Jesus, but, the Evangelist reports, “many came to him,” people who had heard John’s testimony and now came to confirm its truth.

The double reference to “many” is striking. Some expositors suspect that this echoes the presence of a Christian community existing in that region at the time of the Evangelist. But the text gives the impression rather that many people from Judea, on hearing that Jesus was residing there again, went there—undoubtedly in sympathy with what happened there in the early days, since John still enjoyed much support among the people (cf. Mt. 21:26; 14:5). Accordingly, the pronouncement they make about Jesus is a confirmation of what John said.⁴⁰² No further explication is given of “everything” (that John said …). And there was much in John’s witness concerning Jesus that still had to be confirmed (cf. 1:29, 33). The point here, however, is the general thrust of John’s witness concerning Jesus and his greatness, in the shadow of which John himself could not stand (cf. 1:27, 30; cf. also 3:27ff.). Presumably the concessive introduction to their statement (“John did no sign”) means that John’s significance as a prophet (“everything John said”) was nonetheless powerful for all that. As a rule prophets were expected to do miracles (cf. 9:17; Mk. 6:14ff. par.). But though John’s ministry was devoid of miracles (cf. 1:21), the people still held him to be a prophet (cf. Mk. 11:32 par.). Therefore, the pronouncement is not a bit of polemic directed against the later Johannine sect (see the comments on 1:20; 3:26)⁴⁰³ but rather the unequivocal trust of the many in the prophetic authority of John—even without miracles—which they merely saw confirmed in Jesus’ ministry.

The report ends with “and many believed in him there.” The intent of this statement (and of this entire conclusion) is clear: despite the hostility against Jesus that was dominant at the center of Jewish life and that already threatened his life, there were nevertheless many in Israel who—in the wilderness where John had called for a “highway” for Jesus—were prepared to come to Jesus and make their decision for him. To be sure, these “many” will not determine the overall picture of the coming events. But there is no reason to think that the Evangelist wanted to cast doubt on their faith (as though it were merely faith in miracles; cf. 2:23; 4:39; 7:31, etc.). The case is rather that they gave to Jesus the faith that he asked for but did not receive from “the Jews” (cf. vss. 37ff.). And they did this with an appeal to John and in the spirit of John. Viewed through the eyes of Jesus’ adversaries, his return to where his ministry began might have made of it the very picture of a failed mission. But the Evangelist views things quite differently. He will not write the second main division of his Gospel before placing Jesus once more in the light of his great God-sent witness (1:7). This last word of this first division is at the same time the opening note of the second. For as yet not everything that John said about Jesus had been fulfilled. The truth of it is still to become evident in what follows.

1. This applies specifically to the blasphemy attributed to Jesus as the real cause (so also in the Synoptics) of his condemnation; see also, at length, S. Pancaro, The Law in the Fourth Gospel, 1975, pp. 506ff.

2. On this issue see also the argument of M. Rissi, “Der Aufbau des vierten Evangeliums,” NTS 29 (1983), pp. 50, 51.

3. Cf. C. H. Dodd, The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, 1953, p. 346; see also M. de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, 1977, pp. 34ff., 79.

4. Especially J. L. Martyn, History and Theology in the Fourth Gospel, 1979.

5. So Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, p. 513.

6. See the valuable discussion of these chapters in de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, pp. 34ff., 80ff., 96ff.; see also his cautious judgment regarding attempts to see in these chapters a reflection of later conditions in the church: “The way from a literary document like the Gospel of John to a reconstruction of the actual situation in which it was written is much longer and much more difficult than some authors seem to realize” (p. 114, n. 70; cf. also Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 512ff.).

7. Cf. above. On these chapters see also Bultmann, Comm., pp. 285ff.; see also pp. 238f., n. 4, where Bultmann calls ch. 8 “a collection of isolated fragments which have been put together without much plan.” For his reconstructed order of the entire Gospel, see .

8. Even an author like Haenchen, whom one cannot charge with a lack of appreciation for Bultmann’s (in many respects hardly surpassable) commentary, writes: “The time of theories of displacement is gone” (Comm. I, p. 51).

9. Haenchen, Comm. I, p. 80: “We thus have no right to reorder the Gospel arbitrarily, as, for example, Bacon, Macgregor, Bultmann, and Hoare have done, and then to represent this new sequence as the true outline, the original composition of the Gospel, and to interpret everything in accordance with it.”

10. See on ch. 8 the overview in F. J. Moloney, The Johannine Son of Man, 1978², pp. 125f.

11. Cf. Barrett (Comm., p. 309): “imperfect of customary action.” He also writes: “It is not implied that the sequence of events is immediate”; in his view, too, therefore, there is no support here for the reversal of chs. 5 and 6.

12. For “he would not” in vs. 1b there exists the striking variant: (οὐκ) εἶχεν ἐξουσίαν, “he was unable,” which as lectio difficilior is regarded by some as original (e.g., Barrett, Comm., pp. 309f.; Lindars, Comm., p. 281).

13. On the Feast of Tabernacles, see, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 774-812 (on the pouring of water, pp. 799ff.); W. Michaelis, TDNT VII, pp. 390-92 and the literature cited there.

14. μεταβαίνειν (ἐντεῦθεν).

15. ἀναβαίνειν (cf. vss. 8ff.).

16. On this passage see also J. R. Michaels, “The Temple Discourse in John,” in New Dimensions in New Testament Study, ed. R. N. Longenecker and M. C. Tenney, 1974, pp. 200-213; esp. pp. 203f.

17. ζητεῖ (“has aspirations to,” “makes an effort to”), αὐτóς (other manuscripts have αὐτó or αὐτóν or omit the pronoun altogether) ἐν παρρησίᾳ εἶναι. Here παρρησία means “publicity.”

18. εἰ in vs. 4b is siquidem, “if indeed.”

19. For this view see, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 308: He speaks of “a classic instance of the two levels of meaning found in John.”

20. Bultmann, Comm., p. 216.

21. C. H. Giblin, “Suggestion, Negative Response, and Positive Action in St. John’s Portrait of Jesus (John 2.1-11.; 4.46–54.; 7.2–14.; 11.1–44.),” NTS 26 (1980), pp. 197-211.

22. Bultmann, Comm., p. 288, n. 3.

23. So also Giblin, “Suggestion, Negative Response,” p. 208: “The evangelist does not say that Jesus goes up for the feast, much less for this feast. As events work out, Jesus … arrives when the feast is already half-over (v. 14a), even unexpectedly.… When he does arrive he goes up to the temple to teach. Thus, he does not celebrate the feast or ‘go up for it’ as others would—and would expect him to do.”

24. On this see, at length, Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 96ff.

25. Cf. Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 74-81. He does not think here (in 7:12; cf. 7:47ff.) of the “Jesus-tradition,” but of situations reconstructed (with the help of extrabiblical data) in “the city” where the Evangelist wrote this Gospel and where “to lead astray” amounted to a crime against monotheism (attributed to Christians) against which the Jewish athorities acted with legal means. However, for this meaning of “leading astray” one need not, in my opinion, refer to this later situation. It was in the first instance against Jesus himself that the charge of “blasphemy” was directed. In this use of “leading astray,” the issue in any case is the significance that Jesus attributed to himself (cf. Mt. 24:4; 27:63); see also H. Braun, TDNT, s.v. πλανάω.

26. See also Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 130f., though in general he distances himself from these reconstructions. In his judgment, the transposition of vss. 15-24 is a simple operation that “renders superfluous any extensive displacement hypotheses [like, e.g., Bultmann’s] in Chapter 7.” How then did these verses land in ch. 7? To that question Schnackenburg has no other answer than the all-too-easy hypothesis of “a detached sheet.”

27. Against the displacement of vss. 15-24 see also the extensive argument of D. M. Smith, The Composition and Order of the Fourth Gospel, 1965, pp. 132ff. C. H. Dodd writes about this repeated reference back to themes treated in chs. 2–12: “A continuous argument runs through them. It does not move along the direct line of a logical process. Its movement is more like that of a musical fugue. A theme is introduced and developed up to a point; then a second theme is introduced and the two are interwoven; then a third, and so on. A theme may be dropped, and later resumed and differently combined, in all manner of harmonious variations” (The Interpretation of the Fourth Gospel, 1963, p. 383; see also pp. 289-91).

28. “The Jews” here are the people in general, not just the authorities (cf. vs. 19).

29. γράμμαται εἰδέναι is a general term for one who has learned to read and write. Since, however, instruction in reading and writing took place with the aid of the Scriptures, it can, as here, also acquire the added meaning of “being instructed in the Scriptures”; see also G. Schrenk, TDNT I, pp. 764ff.

30. γινώσκειν περί, literally “gain knowledge of a thing,” “form a judgment concerning.”

31. So, at length, Michaels, “Temple Discourse in John,” §25, n. 6.

32. διὰ τοῦτο can also be taken with vs. 21, but would be more or less superfluous there. Hence as a rule it is taken with what follows in order to confirm the preceding line of thought. Then, however, it relates to the whole line of reasoning that follows and not just to vs. 22. Therefore, it constitutes a somewhat elliptical transition, one that needs supplementation: “Therefore I say to you” or “Therefore you should rather first consider,” or the like. For still other views of the connection see the extensive analyses of Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 163f.

33. So Bultmann, Comm., p. 278, n. 3.

34. Fixed Jewish terminology for breaking or invalidating the Torah (cf., e.g., Mt. 5:17).

35. See, e.g., R. Meyer, TDNT VI, p. 82.

36. See also Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 161, 164.

37. On this see, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck III, pp. 223ff.

38. The same reasoning is followed by Rabbi Eleazar b. Azariah (ca. a.d. 100): “If circumcision, which affects only one of a man’s members, supplants the sabbath, how much more saving a life supplants the sabbath” (cf. R. Meyer, TDNT VI, p. 82, n. 74). See also H. Seesemann, TDNT V, pp. 174ff.

39. Cf. Seesemann, TDNT V, pp. 174f.

40. τὴν δικαίαν κρίσιν κρίνετε, cognate accusative. “John says τὴν δικαίαν κρίσιν; there are not several right judgments: only one is the right one” (Schlatter, Comm., p. 196).

41. παρρησίᾳ, “openly,” “not hiding anything” (as in vs. 4). See W. C. van Unnik, The Christian Freedom of Speech in the New Testament, 1962, p. 483.

42. Literally, “and they say nothing to him” (cf. Mt. 22:3). The verbal clause means “raise objections against someone,” “let him go his own way,” a conventional Jewish way of speaking (see Schlatter, Comm., in loc.).

43. See, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 488ff. At issue here is not the Messiah’s Davidic descent or his birth at Bethlehem (cf. vs. 42). “Underlying the words of Jn. 7:27 is, rather, the idea that before his public emergence the Messiah will dwell unrecognized in secrecy so that beforehand no one could know who had been called to the messianic office and where the person concerned would suddenly appear” (p. 489).

44. Note καὶ … καί. Others take vs. 28a as a question (cf. de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 55).

45. The καί before ἀπʼ ἐμαυτοῦ in vs. 28 is adversative.

46. For this expression in its different variations, see also Bultmann, Comm., p. 298, n. 1; p. 50, n. 3.

47. See, e.g., Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 95ff.

48. So, e.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 148f.

49. Cf. de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 92.

50. The Pharisees belonged to the Sanhedrin not as a party but as members of a class of men who know Scripture. That the Evangelist mentions them as leaders of the people par excellence is perhaps explained in part by the fact that after the destruction of Jerusalem they increasingly gained control of the spiritual leadership. Still, in the whole tradition concerning the life of Jesus they play a dominant role.

51. Some scholars regard the “officers” not as the law-enforcing employees of the Sanhedrin in the time of Jesus (which would include the temple police) but as the court’s officers in the time of the Evangelist, that is, after the destruction of Jerusalem (cf. Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 73ff.). It is this (supposedly inevitable) gradual transposition of the history of Jesus to that of the later church that makes this entire hypothesis of the Fourth Gospel as a “two-level drama” most dubious in its implementation.

52. The meaning is uncertain; cf. K. L. Schmidt, TDNT II, pp. 101f. Schlatter (Comm., p. 198) thinks the reference is to the non-Jews among whom diaspora Jews lived. But, according to vs. 35b, that would mean that in the diaspora Jesus addressed himself especially to non-Jews. But then why is the diaspora mentioned here?

53. On the Feast of Tabernacles, see, at length, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 774ff.; J. Jeremias, TDNT IV, pp. 277f.

54. “Jesus εἱστήκει in the bustle and surge of the temple procession. Jn 7:37” (W. Grundmann, TDNT VII, p. 647).

55. The so-called casus pendens, which occurs repeatedly in the Fourth Gospel.

56. A third solution is to take “the one who believes in me” separately as the Evangelist’s interpretation or “pesher” of what precedes. These words are said to have been derived from the interpretation in vs. 39 and placed as a clarifying gloss after the invitation in vs. 38. So J. Blenkinsopp: “John VII, 37-9: Another Note on a Notorious Crux,” NTS 6 (1959-60), pp. 97f. This removes the difficulty of the casus pendens and the unconvincing parallelism disappears. Who is meant by αὐτοῦ in vs. 38b remains in this view an open question. On this understanding of “he who believes in me” see also K. H. Kuhn’s reference to a Sahidic citation in “St. John VII, 37-8,” NTS 4 (1957-58), p. 64. But in my opinion there is no objection to taking vs. 38 as a unit, so that then this rather implausible hypothesis, which, as Kuhn grants, has very little textual support, becomes superfluous as a “solution.”

57. So Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 154, though he himself opts for the first view.

58. So ibid.: “surely Jesus.”

59. Bultmann, Comm., p. 303, n. 2. But see the reply of Blenkinsopp, “John VII, 37-9: Another Note.”

60. Bultmann is cautious: “could”; Schnackenburg is more positive: “probable” (p. 154); so Brown also at least in his theological explication (Comm. I, p. 328).

61. Cf., e.g., Calvin, Comm. I, p. 198: “The meaning is that the Holy Spirit is like a living and ever-flowing fountain in believers.”

62. Cf. J. Behm, TDNT III, pp. 786ff., and his explanation of Jn. 7:38 (pp. 788f.).

63. As Schnackenburg thinks (Comm. II, p. 154).

64. Calvin, Comm. I, pp. 198-99: “Christ is not pointing to any particular passage of Scripture, but takes a testimony from the common teaching of the prophets.”

65. True, John repeatedly mentions faith that proves to be ungenuine (cf. 2:23; 8:30f.), and in 14:10 Philip is accusingly asked, “Do you not believe …?” But that is not to say that where faith and confession are mentioned before the cross and the resurrection, as, e.g., in 2:11; 4:53, it is not true faith and that the true confession of Jesus as the Christ could not begin yet (as thought by, e.g., E. Haenchen, Gott und Mensch, 1965, p. 73).

66. Cf. Calvin, Comm. I, p. 199:

For the Spirit was not yet. The Spirit is eternal, as we know. But the Evangelist is saying that, so long as Christ dwelt in the world in the lowly form of a Servant, that grace of the Spirit which was poured out on men after the resurrection of Christ, had not come forth openly. And indeed he is speaking comparatively, as when the New Testament is compared to the Old. God promises His Spirit to believers as if He had never given Him to the Fathers. At that time the disciples had undoubtedly already received the firstfruits of the Spirit. For where does faith come from if not from the Spirit? The Evangelist then does not simply deny that the grace of the Spirit was revealed to believers before the death of Christ, but that it was not yet so bright and clear as it would be afterwards. For the chief glory of Christ’s Kingdom is that he governs the Church by His Spirit. But He entered into the lawful and, as it were, ceremonial possession of His Kingdom when He was exalted to the right hand of the Father. So there is nothing surprising in His delaying the full manifestation of the Spirit until then.

67. So, e.g., Martyn, History and Theology, p. 114.

68. So, e.g., Morris, Comm., p. 429.

69. So Bultmann, Comm., p. 306, n. 6: “The Jews, of course, are as little mistaken in this as they were in 6.42; 7.27. That is to say, the Evangelist knows nothing, or wants to know nothing, of the birth in Bethlehem.”

70. See Strack/Billerbeck I, pp. 82f.; cf. also J. C. de Moor, “ ‘Van wie zegt de Profeet dit?’ Messiaanse apologetiek in de Targumim,” in De Knechtsgestalte van Christus (Festschrift H. N. Ridderbos), 1978, p. 103.

71. De Jonge, in his chapter on “Jewish Expectations about the ‘Messiah’ according to the Fourth Gospel” (Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, pp. 77-116), concludes that Jesus’ Davidic origin and the question of his place of birth are not really important to the Evangelist and therefore that the Evangelist is critical of the way that these matters are dealt with in the nativity stories in Matthew and Luke (pp. 93f.). This conclusion is questionable. John sometimes places much emphasis on the literal fulfillment of prophecy in Jesus’ coming and work (e.g., 19:36, 37), and Jesus’ appeal to Moses is of great importance to John—and de Jonge admits this. Furthermore, Jesus is also for John the King of Israel (cf. 1:49; 12:13, 15), even if in that connection Jesus’ Davidic descent is not expressly mentioned (though it is certainly implied). De Jonge rightly posits: “And yet, if Scripture is not read and interpreted with the center of Johannine theology as starting point, one will never discover the truth revealed by God.” But, one has to ask, does the starting point of the nativity stories of Matthew and Luke not also lie in Jesus’ heavenly origin (cf. Mt. 1:20; Lk. 1:31ff.; 2:9ff.; 3:23) and not just in the literal fulfillment of the prophecy concerning David and Bethlehem? Undoubtedly the approaches of the three Evangelists differ. But is the approach that can be considered characteristic for John materially and actually critical of those of Matthew and Luke? See also P. Pokorny, “Der irdische Jesus im Johannesevangelium,” NTS 30 (1984), pp. 223ff.

72. διʼ αὐτóν, “on account of him.”

73. Cf. G. Reim, Studien zum alttestamentlichen Hintergrund des Johannesevangeliums, 1974, p. 123.

74. That the question begins with μή gives expression to this feeling of enraged frustration.

75. See Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 73-81, 158-60.

76. E.g., R. Meyer, TDNT V, pp. 588ff.; Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 494f.; at length also Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 101-5.

77. Cf. de Jonge (Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 36): “one of them” “refers the reader to chapter 3, and there is no indication of a development in Nicodemus’ attitude since this rather unsatisfactory discussion with Jesus. Nicodemus is, and obviously remains, εἷς … ἐξ αὐτῶν (vs. 50).” See also Barrett: “Possibly John means, that for all his good will and fairmindedness Nicodemus remains one of the Jews, not one of the disciples” (Comm., p. 332).

78. The law is personified here in the Jewish manner; Schlatter, Comm., p. 205: “It does not judge a man without first hearing him (παρʼ αὐτοῦ, apparently out of his own mouth) and learning what he does.”

79. So Calvin, Comm. I, p. 204.

80. Pancaro (Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 143-57) goes much further: Nicodemus, in saying ἀκούσῃ πρῶτον παρʼ αὐτοῦ καὶ γνῷ τί ποιεῖ refers to hearing Jesus in faith and taking believing notice of his miracles as that which the law requires. But that, it seems to me, is hard to prove. Nicodemus appealed to “our law” as the members of the Sanhedrin should apply it, regardless of who they thought Jesus was.

81. Again (see the comments on vs. 47) μή introduces the question—here, of course, intended as ridicule.

82. ἐραύνησον (“search”) is the usual term for consulting the Scriptures (cf. 5:39).

83. The idea that the Evangelist intentionally put an error (with a view to 2 Kg. 14:25) in the mouths of the members of the Sanhedrin as a fresh example of their lack of respect for the Scriptures seems too far-fetched.

84. Timeless present; other textual witnesses have the perfect, which, however, even if it were original, would also “carry the dogmatic sense that it is impossible for a prophet to come from Galilee” (Bultmann, Comm., pp. 311f., n. 5).

85. ἀκούσῃ παρʼ αὐτοῦ, vs. 51.

86. γνῷ τί ποιεῖ, vs. 51.

87. He argues, correctly, I believe, against B. Hemelsoet, “L’Ensévelissement selon Saint Jean,” in Studies in John (Festschrift for J. N. Sevenster), 1970, pp. 47-65, who draws far-reaching conclusions from the words ἔλαβον τò σῶμα τοῦ Ίησοῦ in 19:38, 39 (and partly from 1:12) with regard to the faith of Nicodemus (and of Joseph of Arimathea).

88. De Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 34 (see also p. 32).

89. Calvin, Comm. I, p. 203: A homo medius “not venturing on a serious defence of godly doctrine” but who “cannot bear to have the truth oppressed,” a posture on which Calvin comments with much relevance for his own time.

90. Comm. I, p. 204 (“Semen Evangelii, quod postea fructum tulit, adhuc suffocatum in eo latebat”).

91. Calvin, Comm. II, p. 188. So also Lindars, Comm., p. 592: “The secret believers now come out into the open, carrying forward the idea of faith latent in the piercing episode.”

92. Brown, Comm. II, pp. 959f.

93. In History and Theology (see also the comments above on 5:15).

94. History and Theology, pp. 107, 110, 155.

95. See History and Theology, pp. 87, 116ff., 121ff.

96. In the discussion of the “figure” of the cured paralytic in 5:1ff.

97. E.g., R. E. Brown, The Community of the Beloved Disciple: The Life, Loves, and Hates of an Individual Church in New Testament Times, 1979.

98. Martyn, History and Theology, p. 161.

99. ἀκούσῃ … παρʼ αὐτοῦ.

100. κεκρυμμένος.

101. For the evidence see, e.g., Lindars, Comm., pp. 306-7.

102. In the so-called Ferrar group.

103. So Brown, Comm. II, p. 335, who refers to H. Riesenfeld, “Die Perikope von der Ehebrecherin in der frühkirchlichen Tradition,” Svensk Exegetisk Årsbok 17 (1952), pp. 106-11.

104. Grosheide, Comm. I, p. 547, though he believes the case for interpolation of this pericope is stronger than the case for its originality, would nevertheless grant “some value” to this testimony of Augustine.

105. For the literature see Grosheide, Comm. I, pp. 546ff.; Haenchen, Comm. II, pp. 21f. On the history of the transmission of the text see especially U. Becker, Jesus und die Ehebrecherin, 1963; Riesenfeld, “Perikope von der Ehebrecherin.”

106. The 25th edition of the Nestle-Aland Novum Testamentum Graece (1963) put it in the apparatus, but the 26th and 27th editions (1981, 1993) include it in the main text, but in double brackets (readings “known not to be a part of the original text” and “printed in their traditional place instead of in the apparatus only because of their incontestable age …, their tradition, and their dignity” [26th edition, p. 44]).

107. Others, such as Haenchen, furnish the text but no commentary, or, like Bultmann, omit both.

108. In some manuscripts this half verse is missing.

109. E.g., Brown, Comm. II, p. 337.

110. So, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck, II, pp. 519f. In that connection John bases himself on the Jewish tradition according to which “adultery with a married woman was to be punished by strangulation.” For additional arguments see J. Blinzler, “Die Strafe für Ehebruch in Bibel und Halacha. Zur Auslegung von Joh. VIII.5,” NTS 4 (1957-58), pp. 32-47.

111. This is also the predominant interpretation in Old Testament studies; cf. Blinzler, “Strafe für Ehebruch,” p. 45, n. 1.

112. E.g., the far-fetched hypothesis of J. D. M. Derrett, who, proceeding from the hypothesis that the case was staged by the jealous husband (or his accomplice), has Jesus first write on the ground words from Ex. 23:1, then words from Ex. 23:7 (“Law in the New Testament: The Story of the Woman Taken in Adultery,” NTS 10 [1963-64], pp. 1-26).

113. E.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 165f.

114. So also J. Jeremias, The Parables of Jesus, 1955, p. 158.

115. Cf. T. W. Manson, “The Pericope de Adultera (Joh. 7,53–8,11),” ZNW 44 (1952-53), pp. 255f.

116. ἐπέμενον ἐρωτῶντες.

117. A simplicity that maintains itself in all the variants and needless additions (e.g., in vs. 9: “and convicted in conscience”).

118. See

119. Or the first such illumnation. It is not certain whether this illumination was continued on the following days.

120. Mishnah Sukkah 5:3 (cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 806).

121. Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 342, n. 4. Bultmann makes illuminating distinctions among four forms of “I am” sayings (pp. 225-26, n. 3):

1. The “presentation formula,” which replies to the question: “Who are you?” … 2. The “qualificatory formula,” which answers the question: “What are you?” … 3. The “identification formula,” in which the speaker identifies himself with another person or object.… 4. The “recognition formula,” which is to be distinguished from the others by the fact that here ἐγώ is the predicate. For it answers the question “Who is the one who is expected, asked for, spoken to?” to which the reply is: “I am he.”

In the first three forms, “I” is the subject and is described in the predicate. In the fourth “I” is the predicate and identifies that which (or the one who) is the expected real light, true vine, or good shepherd. Bultmann has assembled much religio-historical material representing these different forms of the formula and judges that in most cases where John uses it (he mentions 6:35, 41, 48, 51; 8:12; 10:7, 9, 11, 14; 15:1, 5) we have the fourth form, the “recognition formula,” in view of the strong emphasis that Jesus’ “I” has, always in contrast with what is not “real,” “true,” or “good” (“always contrasted with false or pretended revelation”). “On the other hand 11.25, and perhaps too 14.6, are probably identification formulae,” while elsewhere (as in 4:26; 8:18, 23; 18:5f., 8) the “I am” does not have the character of such a (“sacred”) revelational formula.

122. Often this so-called “dualism” is related to similar absolute contrasts in the Qumran literature; e.g., H. Braun, Qumran und das Neue Testament II, 1966, pp. 119ff.; on light and darkness see Braun II, pp. 120ff. and I, pp. 122ff., where Braun also discusses the expression “light of life” as used in 1QS 3:7.

123. According to some commentators these verses disturb the sequence because they introduce another concept, namely “to judge,” and thus interrupt the theme “to bear witness,” which is picked up again in vs. 17. These commentators therefore speak of an interpolation or later addition; so Brown, Comm. II, pp. 343, 345; cf. also Bultmann, Comm., p. 280, n. 4. But even though vs. 15b is striking, vs. 15a clearly constitutes a comment on vs. 14, and “not I alone” in vs. 16 is a no less clear lead-in to vs. 17. See also the critical discussion of these views by Pancaro in Law in the Fourth Gospel, p. 264.

124. ἀληθινóς, in distinction from ἀληθής in vs. 13, where the validity of the law is the issue. Here in vs. 16, “intrinsic” truth, the justness of a judgment, is in view.

125. Mishnah Sukkah 4:5 (see Strack/Billerbeck, II, p. 797).

126. Cf. Dodd, Interpretation, p. 96.

127. “It seems not impossible” (Dodd, Interpretation, p. 96).

128. “Father” is lacking in ℵ* D sy^s.c., but is supported by other important manuscripts like ³⁹, ⁶⁶, and ⁷⁵ and is followed in Nestle-Aland²⁶ and NRSV.

129. The text here says “two humans” (vs. 17: δύο ἀνθρώπων). Some expositors think this is intentional and that it carries the implication of “how much more” since Jesus is referring to God. But in vs. 18, which is carefully formulated, there is no allusion to this. Apparently in vs. 17 the reference is simply to two persons.

130. “Έγώ εἰμι ὁ μαρτυρῶν is not, of course, one of the great ἐγώ-εἰμι sayings.… The sentence is not a revelation saying but part of a discussion” (Bultmann, Comm., p. 282, n. 5).

131. See, at length, Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 517ff.

132. See Strack/Billerbeck I, pp. 1001f.

133. See H. van Vliet, No Single Testimony: A Study on the Adoption of the Law of Deut. 19:15 par. into the New Testament, 1958, p. 88.

134. Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 487, n. 26, speaking of a similar explanation by J. D. Charlier, calls it “forced.”

135. Bultmann, Comm., p. 282. He concludes: “This pushes the satirical treatment of Jewish legalism to its extreme”—that is, by presenting the matter as if God’s revelation had to answer for itself by way of a lawsuit in order to satisfy their legalism.

136. Cf. also Mi. 6:1ff.

137. The preposition ἐν used here must be translated “at,” “near,” or “by” if it refers to the (or a) treasury itself since the treasury would naturally not be open to all. But there was more than one “treasury.”

138. ῥήματα.

139. So also Bultmann, who adds, however, “It is not possible to be sure” (Comm., p. 283, n. 2).

140. The phrase is also translated “to die of one’s sin.”

141. On the Jewish assessment of suicide, see, e.g., Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 1027ff.

142. So, e.g., Bultmann, Comm., p. 348: “He will indeed lay down his life (10.17f.)—but not in the way they think; for they themselves will kill him (v. 28).”

143. On the treatment of these texts see esp. H. Zimmerman, “Das absolute Ego Eimi als die neutestamentliche Offenbarungsformel,” BZ 4 (1960), pp. 54-69, 266-76.

144. See Dodd, Interpretation, pp. 94ff.; Brown, Comm. II, p. 536.

145. Brown, Comm. II, pp. 350, 537.

146. So Dodd, Interpretation, p. 351.

147. So Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, p. 132.

148. In that case one would expect “that I am ‘I am’ ” (cf. Is. 43:25; 44:19 LXX—texts in which the name of God is thought to be thus referred to).

149. Without the repetition of ἐγώ.

150. Cf. Calvin on vs. 24 (Comm. I, p. 216): “Some of the ancients have misapplied this to the divine essence of Christ. He is in fact speaking of His office towards us.” And on vs. 28 (p. 219): “That I am. I have already said that this does not refer to Christ’s divine essence, but to His office. This appears still more clearly from the context, where He affirms that He does nothing but at the command of His Father. For this was as good as saying that He was sent by God and performs His office faithfully.”

151. Calvin, Comm. I, p. 216.

152. See D. Daube, “The ‘I Am’ of the Messianic Presence,” in his The New Testament and Rabbinic Judaism, 1956, pp. 325-29.

153. As Zimmermann (“Das absolute Ego Eimi,” p. 270) explains Jn. 8:24f.

154. Bultmann, after an extensive analysis, declares a non liquet (Comm., pp. 350-53).

155. Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 349, n. 3.

156. The difficulty lies especially in the adverbial phrase τὴν ἀρχήν in its connection with λαλῶ. If one takes τὴν ἀρχήν to mean “earlier” or “in the beginning,” then all kinds of additions have to be made to harmonize it with present tense λαλῶ. Some translate: “What I have been saying from the beginning and still say.” But τὴν ἀρχήν seldom has that sense (“from the beginning”), if ever. The translation I have followed (taking the clause as a question), though not beyond criticism, is probably the least objectionable. See the lengthy discussions of Brown, who follows the affirmative translation, mentioned above (“a slight edge to the likelihood,” Comm. I, p. 348), and of Bultmann, who, after rejecting all other translations, writes: “At best one could translate: ‘Why on earth am I still speaking to you at all?’ ” (Comm., p. 353). For the translation of τὴν ἀρχήν as “at all” (in the same sense as ὅλως), see BAGD, p. 112.

157. For both views see the extensive discussion in Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, pp. 136ff.; Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 256.

158. So, e.g., W. Thüsing, Die Erhöhung und Verherrlichung Jesu im Johannesevangelium, 1970², pp. 15ff.

159. So Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, p. 138; see the overview of similar views presented there.

160. The aorist tense of ἀφῆκεν does not relate to the moment of the incarnation (cf. Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, p. 138) but means something like “has never left me even for a moment.”

161. The ὅτι clause in vs. 29 can better be construed as indicating the consequence than the cause of what precedes.

162. See, e.g., Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, pp. 126ff., and his overview of the different views.

163. On this distinction see Brown, Comm. I, p. 513 (though with a question mark in regard to 8:31).

164. See R. Bultmann, TDNT VII, p. 222; Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 204f.; Brown, Comm. I, pp. 354 (referring to Dodd), 513.

165. See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, pp. 351, 354. See also, however, his Community of the Beloved Disciple, pp. 76ff.

166. τοὺς πεπιστευκóτας αὐτῷ.

167. ταῦτα αὐτοῦ λαλοῦντος.

168. So, e.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 258ff., partly following C. H. Dodd, “A l’arrière-plan d’un dialogue Johannique,” Revue d’Histoire et de Philosophie Religieuses 37 (1957), pp. 5-17.

169. So J. L. Martyn, “Glimpses into the History of the Johannine Community,” in L’Évangile de Jean, ed. M. de Jonge, 1977, pp. 166ff. Martyn mentions specifically σπέρμα Άβραάμ because of its “ambiguity,” describing “loyal Jews” on the one hand and being “a secret expression of their Christian inclinations” on the other (p. 167). This, in my opinion, is a very weak argument since there is no evidence anywhere that Christian Jews used the expression “seed of Abraham” of themselves. The Pauline texts cited as proof (2 Co. 11:2; Gl. 3:6-29) certainly cannot serve that purpose.

170. See

171. This applies to the development of Martyn’s “two-level” hypothesis. See also Brown, Community of the Beloved Disciple.

172. In the Fourth Gospel, “disciple” (μαθητής), like “believe,” sometimes refers to a provisional, not permanent, decision for Jesus (cf. 6:60, 66).

173. See, e.g., the clear exposition of the Johannine concept of truth in G. E. Ladd, A Theology of the New Testament, 1993², pp. 298ff.

174. Schnackenburg (Comm. II, p. 206) says of this statement: “This is one of the magnificent Johannine phrases which to this day have lost nothing of their radiance.” However, he rightly adds: “But it also shares the fate of other great sayings in being misunderstood and misapplied.”

175. For this see, at length, H. E. Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, 1976, pp. 254ff. The concept of freedom based on the relationship to Abraham is seldom mentioned in Jewish literature (cf. Lona, pp. 254f.; for the Zealots’ concept of freedom in distinction from that of the Pharisees, see pp. 256f.). According to Lona the controversy in 8:33 does not relate to freedom “that can be traced back to a certain historical situation” (p. 261). The Jews’ protest against Jesus’ message of freedom has a more general character.

176. Cf. Strack/Billerbeck, I, pp. 116ff., 523f.; Schlatter, Comm., p. 212. Ro. 2:17-20, though it does not mention the seed of Abraham, may be considered the locus classicus of Jewish self-consciousness as the people of the law (cf. Strack/Billerbeck, III, pp. 96-105). The idea that John, like Paul in Gl. 3:16, by speaking of a singular σπέρμα, possibly alludes to Jesus as the real descendant of Abraham, the one who as the Son (vss. 35, 36) alone can make people free, as Brown suspects (Comm. I, pp. 355, 363), is in no way indicated in the text and is most unlikely in view of the highly individual character of Paul’s exposition of σπέρμα in Gl. 3:16.

177. The two last words, τῆς ἁμαρτίας, “of sin,” are lacking in a number of textual witnesses and are not, according to some interpreters, original since the term “slave” or “servant,” on which everything depends here, is otherwise much less sharply limited (so, e.g., Bultmann, Comm., p. 438, n. 2). Others think we have here an adaptation to Ro. 6:17. Apart from this last consideration, there is much to be said for this argument. The addition of τῆς ἁμαρτίας could be explained from the need to further qualify the absolute clause “is a slave,” but then it dulls the point of the argument. The argument against omitting τῆς ἁμαρτίας is that these words have strong manuscript support. The overall meaning, of course, remains the same. We are dealing with a nuance that, in the context, should not be totally overlooked.

178. The Jewish concept of the conflict between the evil and good impulses in the human person is familiar. The law was regarded as the God-given means for restraining the evil impulse and for bringing the good impulse to victory. On this see, at greater length, my Paul: An Outline of His Theology, 1975, pp. 130ff., and the literature cited there.

179. Cf. n. 176 above.

180. χωρεῖν is also translated “go forward,” but in connection with vs. 31 it probably means “find a (permanent) place,” “gain a (firm) foothold.”

181. See the trouble to which almost all commentaries go to offer a plausible explanation of this seeming discrepancy.

182. At least in the manuscripts most often followed. Consequently, the emphasis does not yet lie on the different paternity of each but on the fact that both act in accord with their father and that the identities of their fathers therefore emerges in their action and speech. The words “seeing” and “hearing” are used here interchangeably and without distinction (cf. the comments above on 3:11; 5:11ff.); the same is true of παρά with the dative and παρά with the genitive, though the former tends to assume an antecedent existence with the Father (cf. 17:5) more than the latter.

183. Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, p. 219.

184. An expression that also occurs in the Talmud, though not as a stereotypical description of Abraham’s conduct (Strack/Billerbeck, III, p. 514).

185. The view that a distinction is made here between σπέρμα and τέκνα, the first conceded and the second denied (so Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, pp. 218, 272, appealing to Ro. 9:7), is most dubious. Paul also uses σπέρμα in a spiritual sense (cf. Gl. 3:16, 29), though it is doubtful that the way in which Paul discriminates between “seed” and “children” has any influence here. The case is rather that σπέρμα and τέκνα are used interchangeably and that being Abraham’s seed is here attributed to the Jews in the natural sense (vs. 37) and denied to them in the spiritual sense (vs. 39), though in the latter with the term “children.”

186. Some expositors believe that there may be in this statement an ad hominem insinuation directed against Jesus himself in view of later Jewish charges concerning his illegitimate birth. The emphasis on “we” in vs. 41b would then mean: “We were not born illegitimately (but you were)” (so, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 357). Barrett is firmer: “The implication (especially of the emphatic ἡμεῖς) is that Jesus was born of πορνεία” (Comm., p. 348). Barrett also thinks it likely that the Evangelist seeks thus to inform his readers that what appeared, in the case of Jesus, to be a birth out of a nonmarital relationship was in fact a supernatural birth. But the emphatic ὑμεῖς does not require this explanation. It may very well reflect the emphatic ἡμεῖς in vs. 41a. And there is nothing else in the context to suggest such an insinuation. See also the refutation by Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 212.

187. Rather seldom in the Old Testament, more frequently in later Jewish writings; see, e.g., W. Bousset, Die Religion des Judentums, 1926³, pp. 377ff.

188. ἐξερχέσθαι, here with ἐκ, usually occurs with ἀπó or παρά (cf. 13:3; 16:27ff.; 17:8).

189. ἥκω; cf. J. Schneider, TDNT II, p. 928: “used predominantly of the eschatological coming to salvation and judgment.… In John’s gospel ἥκειν is used … to express the epiphany.”

190. λαλία, which occurs only here and at 4:42 in the Fourth Gospel. In Mt. 26:73 it means “language,” “dialect.”

191. See further below.

192. ἔστηκεν, imperfect of στήκω. One can also take it as the perfect of ἵστημι (ἕστηκεν), but in view of the preceding ἦν the imperfect is more probable.

193. For references to Gnostic literature see Bultmann, Comm., p. 318, n. 2. Bultmann admits that the reference to the father of the devil makes no sense here since the one characterized as murderer and liar in our text is, of course, the devil himself.

194. See also BDF §268.2.

195. See also BDF §282.3.

196. N. A. Dahl, “Der Erstgeborene des Satans und der Vater des Teufels,” in Apophoreta (Festschrift for E. Haenchen), 1964, pp. 70ff.

197. Cf. Brown, Comm. I, p. 358; Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, pp. 285f.

198. G. Reim, “Joh. 8,44—Gotteskinder/Teufelskinder,” NTS 30 (1984), pp. 619ff.

199. ἐγὼ δὲ ὅτι, probably pendent nominative.

200. Vs. 46 is missing in some manuscripts, obviously on account of the homoioteleuton of vss. 45 and 46 (οὐ πιστεύετε μοι).

201. οὐ καλῶς λέγομεν need not mean that they have used such language earlier to describe Jesus but only that they have every reason to call him what they now call him.

202. So E. Grässer, who poses an antithesis here between Paul, who became all things to all people in order to save some for Christ, and the “Johannine Christ,” who no longer extends “the outward call” but for whom the issue whether one is of God or of the devil is settled by “continuing in the word” (“Die antijüdische Polemik im Johannesevangelium,” NTS 9 [1963], pp. 74-90, esp. 87f.). Not so Bultmann, who writes on vs. 51: “In the presence of ‘the Jews,’ who as children of the Devil are in death, Jesus issues the solemn promise: ‘He who keeps my word, will never see death.’ Will the ‘dead’ hear the voice of the Son of God?” (Comm., p. 324).

203. νῦν ἐγνώκαμεν.

204. So Schlatter, to illustrate the high esteem in which Abraham was held by Jews (Comm., p. 218).

205. “Taste death,” θανατοῦ γεύεσθαι (cf. Mk. 9:1; Hb. 2:9), a phrase occurring in Semitic languages especially for “experiencing death as what it is,” “a graphic expression of the hard and painful reality of dying” (J. Behm, TDNT I, p. 677); cf. “see” in vs. 51.

206. ὅστις.

207. Adversative καί.

208. Cf. R. Bultmann, TDNT I, pp. 19ff.; here constructed with ἵνα: “rejoiced with a view to the fact that he.…”

209. See, e.g., W. Michaelis, TDNT V, p. 343, n. 147. So also Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, 327f.: “The hope of Abraham enters its final fulfillment with the appearance of Jesus.… The traditional data concerning Abraham in no way coincide with the pronouncement of 8:56. Here one encounters a feature of the figure of Abraham determined from christology, not from tradition.” Others think (incorrectly, I believe) that “my day” means “the day of the definitive revelation of His glory” (G. Delling, TDNT II, p. 951).

210. C. Brown, Het Evangelie naar Johannes (Korte Verklaring) I, 1950³, p. 231.

211. See, e.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 221f. At greater length also Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, pp. 305f.

212. See Strack/Billerbeck III, pp. 525f.; Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, pp. 296ff., 312ff.

213. So the majority of the older commentaries.

214. So many recent commentators such as Bultmann, Lindars, and Haenchen, and W. Michaelis, TDNT V, p. 343, n. 147.

215. So, e.g., Schnackenburg and Brown.

216. Some manuscripts, instead of ἑώρακας, read: ἑώρακέν σε, an apparent adaptation to vs. 56.

217. The idea that it could serve as an indication of Jesus’ age at the time of his public ministry is not necessary, therefore, and in view of Lk. 3:23 highly improbable.

218. See also Bultmann, Comm., pp. 327-28, n. 5.

219. Bultmann, Comm., p. 327. He again brings up “the meaning of ‘pre-existence,’ ” on which I have commented at some length in connection with 5:19ff.

220. “Ego vero longius extendo.”

221. “Virtus et gratia Christi, quatenus mundi Redemptor est, omnium aetatum communis fuit.” Comm. I, p. 235.

222. “Quod tamen saeculis omnibus viguit mediatoris gratia, hoc ab aeterna eius divinitate pendebat. Itaque hoc dictum Christi insigne divinae essentiae elogium continet.” Comm. I, p. 235.

223. See my Het Woord is vlees geworden, 1979, p. 17.

224. See also Strack/Billerbeck, I, pp. 1008-19.

225. ἐκρύβη καὶ ἐξῆλθεν ἐκ τοῦ ἱεροῦ. The meanings of the two coordinate verbs mutually determine each other (see BDF §471.4: “He hid himself among the people and so escaped”).

226. So W. Beilner, Christus und die Pharisäer. Exegetische Untersuchungen über Grund und Verlauf der Auseinandersetzungen, 1959, p. 150.

227. For what follows see the historic overview in R. Leistner, Antijudaismus im Johannesevangelium? 1974. See also E. Grässer, “Die antijüdische Polemik im Johannesevangelium,” NTS 11 (1964), p. 74.

228. For which, to this day, W. Wrede’s Charakter und Tendenz des Johannesevangeliums, 1912², 1933, is representative.

229. So, e.g., G. Baum, The Jews and the Gospel: A Reexamination of the New Testament, 1961, pp. 126f.

230. See Grässer, “Die antijüdische Polemik im Johannesevangelium.”

231. So specifically and consistently Bultmann, Comm., but see also quotations from Käsemann in Grässer, “Die antijüdische Polemik.”

232. On this see at greater length above.

233. See

234. On the character of the “dialogues” in the Fourth Gospel see also C. H. Dodd, Historical Tradition in the Fourth Gospel, 1965, pp. 317ff.

235. See also Lona, Abraham in Johannes 8, p. 249. He refers to the important essay of H. Windisch on the subject: “Der johanneïsche Erzählungsstil,” in ΕΥΧΑΡΙΣΤΗΡΙΟΝ (Festschrift for H. Gunkel), 1923, pp. 174-213.

236. Cf. Grässer, “Die antijüdische Polemik,” pp. 82f.

237. See the comments on 4:22 above.

238. This antithesis in the Gospel of John is expressed in the same language that we find in passages in the Gnostic literature, and this has contributed much to the idea. But the Qumran literature as well makes such absolute reference to “truth and falsehood” and “light and darkness” and attributes the power of deception and darkness to the “rule of Belial,” “the angel of darkness,” and the like. This is an important indication that such a way of thinking and speaking was not alien to Judaism contemporary with Jesus, which is why most recent scholars are more reserved in speaking at least of direct influences of Gnosticism on the Fourth Gospel (on John 8, e.g., see the extensive Qumran references in Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 289, though others also point to the important differences between John and Qumran, specifically in “satanology”). Obviously the expression “(children of) the father, the devil” can be explained from the context of John 8 itself; on Jn. 8:37-44 see, e.g., Braun, Qumran und das Neue Testament I, p. 124; II, pp. 121, 124.

239. Not even in the more general sense that the Evangelist inwardly distanced himself from the Jewish nation and its religious values and adopted the widespread anti-Jewish mood of his day; cf. Bauer, Comm. (1933³), p. 31.

240. Cf. Grässer, “Die antijüdische Polemik.”

241. See the comments on 5:15 above.

242. The theory of the “two levels” is primarily based, apart from ch. 5 (see

243. Martyn attributes this miracle in the later community to “a faithful witness in the Johannine Church” through whom “the healing power of Jesus touches a poor Jew, afflicted by many years of blindness”; he says that it is not clear whether the reference is to physical or spiritual blindness (History and Theology, p. 30). He later refers to this hypothetical healer as “the Christian preacher who was instrumental in the man’s healing,” “the Christian herald” (p. 35). Martyn explains vss. 8-41 as “a dramatic expansion of the original miracle story,” which is said to be located in vss. 1-7 (

244. See also de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 61.

245. “The blind man’s confutation of the Pharisees in vss. 24-34 is one of the most cleverly written dialogues in the NT” (Brown, Comm. I, p. 377).

246. Of course ἵνα is consecutive here.

247. On this point there was apparently no consensus among rabbis; see, however, Schlatter, Comm., p. 222: even at the sight of a person mutilated or handicapped from birth God was praised as righteous judge. The idea of the preexistence of the soul and the concomitant possibility of sinning before birth, or of the transmigration of souls from an earlier existence, is certainly not present here, though under alien influences such notions played a role in Judaism after the time of Jesus (cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 346ff.).

248. There is considerable difference of opinion about the reading “us” (“It is necessary for us”) at the beginning of vs. 4. Many manuscripts have “me” instead of “us,” while the most important have “me” and then “the one who sent us,” not “the one who sent me,” later in the sentence. It would seem that where the same word occurs in both places (“us” or “me”) adaptation has occurred and that the dissimilar reading (“us,” then “me”) is original, as in fact in a third group of manuscripts. It would also seem more natural for “me” to have replaced “us” at the beginning than the reverse.

249. Martyn (see n. 243 above) regards the plural “us” as a reference not only to the continuation of Jesus’ works (as an activity of the risen Lord) in the acts of Christian witnesses but also to “the ‘doubling’ of Jesus with an early Christian preacher,” who is then said to be active in vss. 8-41. In fact this exegesis of vs. 4 (along with that of vs. 22; see the comments below) is the main argument he adduces to support the hypothesis of this “doubling”—which, he says, may strike some readers “as a bold step indeed” (History and Theology, pp. 28ff.). But most of Martyn’s readers will find this argument no less “bold” than his entire thesis.

250. Cf. Dodd, Historical Tradition, p. 186.

251. ὅταν, like ἕως in vs. 4, has a limiting sense here (see BDF §455.3).

252. Some think this already plays a role here. Others deny it.

253. Bultmann, Comm., p. 332, n. 1.

254. So Bultmann, Comm., in loc.

255. See, e.g., Martyn on vss. 39-41: “Through his preacher-disciple [in the Johannine church] Jesus Christ speaks: For judgment came I into the world.” When the Pharisees then ask, “Are we also blind? the voice of the Risen Lord continues: If you were blind you would have no guilt” (History and Theology, p. 36).

256. See Schlatter, Comm., p. 225; Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 15ff.

257. Strack/Billerbeck I, pp. 615f. Hence πηλóς (“dough”) refers to the mixture of earth and saliva.

258. αὐτοῦ is separated by τòν πηλóν from ἐπι τοὺς ὀφθαλμούς. According to Schlatter one has to take it with τòν πηλóν to emphasize “that the ‘dough’ had curative power because it came from Jesus” (Comm., p. 225). As a rule, however, αὐτοῦ is thought to refer to the blind man.

259. The Qumran scrolls also mention Siloah as a bathing pool; see, e.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 308 and the literature cited there.

260. Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 583.

261. So O. Cullmann, Urchristentum und Gottesdienst, 1950,² who sees strong sacramental motifs in the Gospel of John (pp. 99ff.). For the older discussion of Cullmann’s work, see W. Michaelis, Die Sacramente in Johannesevangelium, 1946. More recent advocates of this view (“a baptismal lesson” in John 9) include Brown, in a lengthy argument (Comm. I, pp. 380-82). Against this view, cf. Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 257f., who concludes: “There is no really convincing basis in the text for crediting the evangelist with the intention of employing baptismal symbolism.”

262. See the summary in Brown, Comm. I, pp. 380-82.

263. οὐχ οὗτος? The answer is Yes. In this form (with οὐχ) the question brings to expression the undeniable reality of what they saw.

264. ὅμοιος implies more than a degree of resemblance; rather: “the exact image.”

265. How this—and vs. 11—is to be understood if vss. 8-41 are “a dramatic expansion of the original miracle story [in vss. 6-7] in the situation of the Johannine church” is hard to understand despite the efforts of Martyn and others (History and Theology, p. 31, n. 26). The reference, as a statement of the healed beggar (who has no answer to the question “Where is he?”), is all too clearly to “the historical Jesus.”

266. Some expositors think that lurking behind this discussion is the antithesis between true and false prophets—those “from God” and those “not from God”—from Dt. 13:1-5; 18:5-22. This is said to be supported by what the healed man says about Jesus in vs. 17. So de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, pp. 62ff. (see the comments above on 7:16, 18). But de Jonge correctly rejects the view of Meeks that whether Jesus is the true prophet or the false prophet, as predicted in Deuteronomy 18, is the central point of ch. 9, as also already of 5:19-47. The dispute about Jesus as true or false prophet in any case merely forms the transition to the much more essential question of his messiahship, since that is already referred to in vs. 22 though it is not posed to the healed man in its full significance until vs. 35 (again entirely in keeping with the theme of ch. 5; cf. vss. 27ff.). On the repeated identification by the people of Jesus as “the prophet” (6:14; 7:40ff.) and on the relationship between “the prophet” and the Messiah in the Fourth Gospel, see the extensive analysis of W. Nicol, The Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, 1972, pp. 87ff.

267. Literally, “What do you say about him that he has opened your eyes?” The ὅτι does not refer back to the fact of the healing (which they do not believe, vs. 18) and therefore cannot be intended causally (RSV: “since he …”) but refers to the blind man’s story.

268. Other expositors consider (as in 4:19: see the comments there) a more specific explanation likely, namely that by “a prophet” (as in 6:14) the prophet is meant or, in any case, that “a prophet” “was possibly used somewhat pregnantly” (see Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, p. 87). In 4:19 there is more reason for this than there is here, where the confession of the man born blind stands in contrast with the Pharisees’ verdict, which is stated in general terms: “This man is not from God” (vs. 16).

269. The repeated ἀναβλέπειν in vs. 18 means “see again,” which here of course means “regain sight.”

270. ἀποσυνάγωγος γένηται, literally, “become one outside the synagogue” (cf. 12:42). 16:12 has the active: ἀποσυνάγωγον ποιεῖν.

271. So Strack/Billerbeck IV, pp. 329f., as the conclusion of the extensive excursus on pp. 292-333. See also W. Schrage, TDNT VII, pp. 848-52; Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 37ff., esp. pp. 43f.; see also pp. 156ff.

272. Cf. ποιεῖν in 16:12; see the comments below on vs. 34, in which ἐκβάλλειν is used. See further Strack/Billerbeck IV, p. 331: “The synagogue ban has nothing to do with exclusion from the synagogue”; the three Johannine instances refer to “those separated from the synagogue,” that is, expelled from the synagogue. This comes down (according to Strack/Billerbeck) to what in Lk. 6:22 is referred to with ἀφορίσωσιν: one is shut out from fellowship.

273. Strack/Billerbeck, in loc.

274. See Strack/Billerbeck IV, pp. 208, 212, 330, 331; cf. also Barrett, Comm., p. 360; H. Mulder, De uitsluiting uit de Synagoge, 1972, pp. 5ff.

275. So—together with many others—particularly Martyn (History and Theology, pp. 18ff.), who attempts to base his two-level theory in large measure on Jn. 9:22 (the “agreement” of the Jews is said to refer to the actions undertaken by Gamaliel II to purge the synagogue of crypto-Christians).

276. See also Martyn, History and Theology, p. 54, n. 69, p. 56, n. 75, and his attempt to weaken this challenge.

277. For this objection see already R. A. Hare, The Theme of Jewish Persecution of Christians in the Gospel according to Matthew, 1967, pp. 59ff.

278. Martyn, History and Theology, pp. 59ff.

279. Cf. also Strack/Billerbeck p. 331, where Lk. 6:22 is cited as parallel to Jn. 16:2: “The connection is most congruent if one takes ἀφορίζειν [in Lk. 6:22], in accord with Ac. 19:9, as ‘exclusion from the fellowship’ or, in terms of the penal code, ‘expulsion from the synagogue.’ ”

280. So also Pancaro, Law in the Fourth Gospel, p. 110: “John 7,49 and 9,34 express the same idea: those who have believed in Jesus do not belong to the Jewish fold any longer; they have been cut off from the community of the Law.”

281. “Decide among themselves,” BAGD, s.v. συντίθημι (vs. 22), a word that suggests a much more informal decision and hence something of less significance than an order based on an official decision, an understanding that Martyn tries to make plausible (History and Theology, pp. 51ff.). According to Martyn the decision of Jn. 9:22 constituted a part of “the series of enactments which were issued … by the Jamnia authorities” (pp. 52f.). This interpretation of συνετέθειντο can in no way, in my opinion, square with the text of 9:22; on this see also Mulder, De uitsluiting uit de Synagoge, pp. 10ff.

282. On the formula see Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 535; Schlatter (Comm., p. 229) describes it as “laying on the sinner the obligation to acknowledge that in his situation he should be the means by which to honor God.” Brown even calls it an “oath formula” (Comm. I, p. 374).

283. A recurring term for an unassailable assumption (cf. 3:2; 9:29, 31).

284. οὐκ ἠκούσατε must be taken in the sense of “not listen,” “not attend to.” Some textual witnesses omit οὐκ: “I have already told you and you have heard it,” apparently taking ἠκούσατε to mean simply “you have heard.”

285. μή expects a negative answer. Here, of course, it is ironic.

286. σὺ … ἡμεῖς δέ.

287. On this characteristic self-designation of the rabbis, see K. Rengstorf, TDNT IV, p. 443: “Here Moses is regarded as ‘our teacher,’ as he was often called by the Rabbinate. Those who call themselves his disciples consciously regard themselves as links in the chain which stretches back to Moses and at the beginning of which is the clear and unequivocal revelation to the will of God for the people through him (cf. v. 29a). As compared with Moses, Jesus is unknown and unproved (v. 29b).”

288. Cf., e.g., Nu. 12:2, 8.

289. The γάρ dangles somewhat. It presupposes a preceding (gesture of) contradiction or denial.

290. See also 11:41, 42.

291. The word used here, θεοσεβής, does not occur elsewhere in the New Testament. Its sense occurs almost literally in a saying of Rabbi Huna: “Everyone in whom the fear of God is present, that person’s words are heard” (Babylonian Talmud Berakhoth 6b, cited by Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 535).

292. See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 375. He speaks of a “simple ejection from their presence.”

293. See also the quotation from Strack/Billerbeck above (“they simply expelled him from the synagogue”).

294. As excommunication from the Christian fellowship was also described (ἐκβάλλειν, 3 Jn. 10; cf. Mt. 18:17b).

295. ἀποσυνάγωγον ποιεῖν (16:2).

296. ἀποσυνάγωγον γενέσθαι (9:22; 12:42).

297. καὶ τίς, “who then?”

298. Cf. also de Jonge, Jesus: Stranger from Heaven and Son of God, p. 93; idem, TDNT IX, pp. 502ff.; C. Colpe, TDNT VIII, pp. 433ff. Bultmann thinks that the man born blind was familiar with the title “Son of man” but not with the identity of its bearer (Comm., p. 338; cf. also Brown, Comm. I, p. 375: “This question [vs. 35] could reflect the man’s ignorance of what the title means but more likely it refers to the identity of the bearer of the title”), but this seems most unlikely in view of the man’s social position (as a nontheologian).

299. Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 321.

300. Cf. Moloney, Johannine Son of Man, p. 149.

301. The typically Johannine “And … and” is meant to give full emphasis to each part with perhaps a certain climax: “not only … but also.”

302. θεωρεῖν and not βλέπειν, which together with ἀναβλέπειν is consistently used in the context for the faculty of sight. One should rather think here of 1:14; 6:36, 62; 20:29.

303. προσεκύνησεν αὐτῷ.

304. κρίμα.

305. There κρίσις is used in approximately the same sense as κρίμα is used here.

306. On this see at length (also against Bultmann’s understanding of the story) Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 106-13 and, in regard to ch. 9, pp. 118ff.

307. As is clear from the μή with which it begins.

308. For this hypothesis see, e.g., E. Schweizer, Ego Eimi, 1965², p. 110. It constitutes part of a more extensive “dislocation theory” that is also applied to other parts of the Gospel. See also A. J. Simonis, Die Hirtenrede im Johannes-Evangelium, 1967, pp. 45ff., who rejects the theory in ch. 10 (pp. 59ff.). For the literature see also Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 277, 502f.

309. Bultmann, for example. Under the heading “The Light of the World” he brings together as a single unit 8:12; 12:44-50; 8:21-29; and 12:34-36a; of this complex 12:36b and 10:19-21 are said to be the conclusion; after that comes ch. 10 in this order: vss. 22-26, 11-13, 1-10, 14-18, 27-39, 40-42. See his Comm., pp. ix, 312, 358.

310. See, e.g., J. Jeremias, TDNT VI, p. 494, who bases himself on an article by C. H. Roberts entitled “The Christian Book and the Greek Papyri.” See also K. Aland, Studien zur Überlieferung des Neuen Testaments und seines Textes, 1967, pp. 49ff.

311. So, e.g., Jeremias, TDNT VI, p. 494; Brown and Schnackenburg in their commentaries; Simonis, Die Hirtenrede im Johannes-Evangelium, pp. 38ff.

312. See BDF §291.4, 6 on ἐκεῖνοι.

313. Dodd (Interpretation, p. 359): “Observe that nowhere in the Gospel, except in chapter IX, are we concerned with the relations between the Jewish authorities and the flock of Israel, which is under their care, as distinct from their relations with Jesus Himself. There is therefore no other place, where the discourse about true and false shepherds could be so fitly introduced.”

314. For a summary of Canaanite material see J. C. de Moor, “De goede herder. Oorsprong en vroege geschiedenis van de herdersmetafoor,” in Bewerken en bewaren. Studies aangeboden aan prof. dr. K. Runia, 1982, pp. 36-45.

315. Cf. Jeremias, TDNT VI, p. 496: “As regards the origin of the imagery of Jn. 10, the Palestinian materials, the many Semitisms and the numerous echoes of the OT (esp. Ez. 34) all point to an OT and Palestinian background.”

316. αὐλή.

317. Cf. ἀναβαίνων in vs. 1.

318. λῃστής (cf. Mt. 21:13; Lk. 10:30) can also have a more political meaning: “rebel,” “terrorist” (cf. Mt. 26:55). In Josephus the Zealots are consistently described as λῃσταί. Cf. K. Rengstorf, TDNT IV, pp. 258-62; Simonis, Die Hirtenrede im Johannes-Evangelium, pp. 131ff., who thinks of “false messianic adversaries” (p. 139) and believes that “climbing over the wall” alludes to a recent event (e.g., on the Feast of Tabernacles) when the Zealots, by climbing the wall of the temple court, gained access to the temple treasury (cf. pp. 150ff.). This conception seems to me to rest on a far-reaching allegorization of the parable and on an insufficiently based connection between Jesus’ public action and that of the Zealots.

319. τὰ ἴδια might also simply mean “his” (αὐτοῦ).

320. See also Jeremias, TDNT VI, p. 490, n. 52.

321. See, e.g., Simonis, Die Hirtenrede im Johannes-Evangelium, pp. 65-96.

322. Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 373.

323. Not so Bultmann, who regards the interpretation of the door in vss. 7ff. as a later addition (“Vv. 7-10 give the impression of being an explanatory gloss on the παροιμία, commenting on the details of vv. 1-5”) that lies outside the theme of the parable. See also Jeremias’s “difficulty” with “the door,” TDNT III, pp. 178ff.; elsewhere he calls vss. 7ff. “simply an allegorising, paraphrasing interpretation controlled by the eastern love of colourful depiction. Two concepts in the parable are now referred to Christ, namely the door (vv. 7-10) and the shepherd of the sheep (vv. 11-18)” (TDNT VI, p. 495).

324. So Jeremias, TDNT III, p. 180, referring to Jn. 21:15-17; Ep. 4:11; 1 Pt. 5:2-4.

325. So Bultmann, though he goes further in saying that the identification of Jesus with “the door” is a gloss of the Evangelist drawn from a logia source (Comm., pp. 358f., 375). “The image of the shepherd was taken from the Gnostic tradition” and not from the Old Testament (pp. 367ff.). The same is true of the image of “the door,” which originally had nothing to do with the parable of the shepherd and was added from a Gnostic context by the Evangelist, though this leads to the confusion of the images in vss. 7-10 (p. 377⁷, 378). Others, too, believe there is evidence of another pen in vss. 7-10 (Jeremias, TDNT III, p. 179, although he rejects the idea of a Gnostic background to John 10; cf. TDNT VI, p. 497). See also Schweizer, Ego Eimi, pp. 142ff., who also considers vss. 7-9 secondary, but still thinks “the door” has a Gnostic source, a notion that, as far as John 10 is concerned, is held less and less. See, however, also K. M. Fischer, “Der johanneische Christus und der gnostische Erlöser. Überlegungen auf Grund von Joh. 10,” in K.-W. Tröger (ed.), Gnosis und Neues Testament, 1973, pp. 245ff.; according to him John 10 works with Gnostic material but is anti-Gnostic in thrust.

326. Cf. the dual subject of εἰσερχέσθαι διά in vss. 1ff. and in vs. 10.

327. Cf. Ezk. 26:2, where Jerusalem as the controlling junction of commercial routes is called “the gate to the nations” (cf. Rv. 3:7; Is. 22:22).

328. Cf. Bultmann, Comm.: “It is thus difficult to say whom he had … in mind …” (p. 377).

329. Cf. also Dodd, Interpretation, pp. 359, 360, who illumines his statement that “the resemblance [of Ezekiel 34] to John X.1-18 is far-reaching” with an analysis of Ezekiel 34.

330. Cf., e.g., Mt. 9:36; Lk. 15:14ff. with Ezk. 34:5, 16.

331. So Bede and Aquinas; see Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 293, n. 69, p. 507.

332. The last words are lacking in some manuscripts, probably because of homoioteleuton (the two occurrences of ἔχουσιν).

333. See the comments on vs. 6 above.

334. Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 364.

335. See also Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 537.

336. As Brown suggests.

337. As with the “good” wine (2:10), the “true” bread (6:55), and the “true” vine (15:1).

338. That he “puts his life (at risk)” (τὴν ψυχὴν αὐτοῦ τίθησιν) in the imagery does not mean that the shepherd must give up his life. Here—in distinction from vs. 15b!—it means “hazard,” “risk.”

339. Cf. Dodd, Interpretation: “This provides the evangelist with the clearest and most explicit statement he has yet permitted himself upon the Passion of Christ as a voluntary and vicarious self-sacrifice” (p. 360). See also G. D. Cloete, Hemelse Solidariteit, ’n Weg in die relatie tussen christologie en soteriologie in die Vierde Evangelie, 1980, p. 52.

340. See also Bultmann, Comm., p. 371, n. 3, p. 372.

341. καὶ οὐκ ὢν ποιμήν. Cf. BDF §430.1.

342. See Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 537ff.

343. Cf., e.g., Gn. 18:19 (God’s knowledge of Abraham); Ex. 3:7 (of Israel in Egypt); 33:12, 17 (“I know you by name, and you have found favor in my sight,” of Moses); Dt. 34:10; Ho. 13:5 (of Israel in the wilderness); Am. 3:2; Na. 1:7 (“he knows those who take refuge in him”).

344. E.g., Ex. 13:13; 1 Sa. 3:17; Jr. 24:7; 31:34; Ho. 5:4; 13:4.

345. See also Dodd, Interpretation. He adds: “If that does not tell the whole story, at least it gives part of the answer to the unanswered question of vi. 52, ‘How can this man give us his flesh to eat?’ ”

346. E.g., Bultmann. He speaks of a “secondary gloss inserted by the editor … prompted by a specifically ecclesiastical interest, as is shown by its prophecy of the mission and of the universal church” (Comm., p. 383).

347. For other opinions see below.

348. See, e.g., Schnackenburg, Comm. II, pp. 299, 301.

349. Cf. O. Hofius, “Die Sammlung der Heiden zur Herde Israëls (Joh. 10,6,11,51f),” ZNW 58 (1967), pp. 289-91, who writes of Is. 56:8: “In this saying, which employs the image of Yahweh as shepherd, we have a precise analogy to Jn. 10:16” (p. 290).

350. Alongside γενήσεται, γενήσονται is another often-followed reading (so Nestle-Aland26, 27), but it may easily have arisen from the preceding plural (ἀκούσουσιν) and the plural subject as being more natural.

351. Cf. Jeremias, TDNT VI: “the promise will be fulfilled” (p. 496).

352. Martyn, “Glimpses into the History of the Johannine Community,” in l’Évangile de Jean, ed. M. de Jonge, 1977, pp. 149-75, especially pp. 170-74. See also Brown, Community, p. 90, who (though not in his commentary) regards the “other sheep” as Christians (and hence not as Gentiles who still need to be converted), “as J. L. Martyn has argued.”

353. τίθημι.

354. ἀκούετε, durative present.

355. On this see at length Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 103ff.

356. Cf. Strack/Billerbeck II, pp. 539f.

357. Unless we assume (with A. Guilding, The Fourth Gospel and Jewish Worship, 1960) that the feasts featured a three-year cycle of liturgical readings from the Pentateuch and the prophets, including, every three years, a reading from Ezekiel 34 on the Feast of Dedication (cf. pp. 130ff.). There are too many objections against this connection to accept it as a point of departure for exegesis of vss. 22ff.; see, e.g., S. S. Smalley, John: Evangelist and Interpreter, 1978, pp. 136-38.

358. τὴν ψυχὴν αἴρειν, literally, “take away our life [ψυχή = breath of life].” Brown, Comm. I, pp. 402f., has “keep someone in suspense, place in tension” (cf. BAGD, s.v. αἴρω).

359. See, e.g., Dodd, Historical Tradition, pp. 91ff.

360. οὐ πιστεύετε, vss. 25, 26, durative present. Some textual witnesses have the aorist in vs. 25, probably conforming it with εἶπον; others add μοι.

361. ποιῶ.

362. E.g., Bultmann, according to whom vs. 26 “expresses the peculiarly Johannine concept of predestination” (Comm., p. 362).

363. For this transition, which is not to be understood within the scope of human possibilities, see the probing essay by J. T. Bakker, “Spiegelbeeld en tegenbeeld. De oude en nieuwe mens bij Schleiermacher en bij Luther,” in Tussen openbaring en ervaring (Festschrift for G. P. Hartvelt), 1986, pp. 10-22.

364. So also Bultmann: “unbelief can be attacked only by being confronted with the sphere of faith” (Comm., p. 363).

365. NEB note.

366. Grosheide, Comm. II, p. 131.

367. Bouma, Comm. II³, 1950, p. 23.

368. “Since, however (in spite of Lagr[ange]), it would not be possible to say of the latter that they were μεῖζον πάντων, the reading must be incorrect” (Bultmann, Comm., p. 386, n. 3).

369. Between the two lies a variety of mixed forms—evidence of the trouble copyists had with the text.

370. “Abusi sunt hoc loco veteres, ut probarent Christum esse Patri ὁμοούσιον. Neque enim Christus de unitate substantiae disputat, sed de consensu quem cum Patre habet: quicquid scilicet geritur a Christo Patris virtute confirmatum iri.”

371. ἔδειξα: “By ‘showing’ them the works, that is, by providing proof that he was sent by God” (Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 309).

372. ἔργα καλά has a somewhat different meaning here than, e.g., in Mt. 5:16; 1 Pt. 2:12. The emphasis lies on ἔργα as miraculous works (cf. 2:18; 6:30 [τὶ ἐργάζῃ]); καλά refers to their salvific character.

373. λιθάζετε, conative present.

374. Cf. Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, p. 116.

375. ποιεῖς, durative present.

376. On this see, e.g., J. Ridderbos, De Psalmen II, 1958, p. 326, who himself rejects this view, believing with many others that these “gods” are judges; he adds that this designation in Psalm 82 rests “very specifically on the idea of the special kingship of Yahweh over Israel and not just on the general truth that the government is the vicar of God.”

377. On this see M. de Jonge and A. S. van der Woude: “11 Q Melchizedek and the New Testament,” NTS 12 (1966), pp. 301-26.

378. So also de Jonge and van der Woude, “11 Q Melchidezek”: “In the Johannine context there is no reason to think of angels.” “Moreover, nowhere else in the gospel do heavenly beings like those portrayed in 11 Q Melch. play a role of any importance.”

379. So also Morris, Comm., p. 527. See also Brown, Comm. I, pp. 403, 410; Lindars, Comm., p. 374. For the view that the people of Israel are meant, see below.

380. Furthermore, the second clause of Ps. 82:6, where after “you are gods” the text continues with “sons of the Most High, all of you,” is not cited. This is “surprising” according to Schnackenburg (Comm. II, p. 310). One may assume that we are dealing here with an abbreviated manner of citing Scripture in which the context of the quotation, though not mentioned, is also included. It may also be that only Ps. 82:6a is purposely cited as most telling against the indictment of the Jews.

381. εἰ in the sense of si quidem.

382. I believe that “and scripture cannot be broken” is still dependent on εἰ and not intended as an interjection or parenthesis.

383. For this view, cf. also Brown (referring to an article by R. Jungkuntz), Comm. I, pp. 403, 404, 410, 412.

384. λυθῆναι. The assumption of the view I am arguing against is that here, as in Mt. 5:17f., λύω is used in contrast with πληρóω, so that the translation is: “and the Scripture cannot fail of its fulfillment.” But πληρóω is not always used of the fulfillment of a prediction, as is evident from Mt. 5:17 itself; see also my The Coming of the Kingdom, 1962, pp. 294ff.

385. A sample of ancient Christian argument from Scripture against the Jews from a time that experienced an increasing need to defend the deity of Christ over against the Jews or a parody on Jewish scriptural theology that fights the Jewish opponents with their own quasi-sophisticated weapons (so Bultmann, Comm., p. 389: he allows for a choice between these two “evils”). See also Strathmann, Comm., pp. 170f.: “He lashes out at these men of the letter with their own weapons,” giving, in other words, an ad hominem argument after all!

386. See, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 410; but also Calvin.

387. So, e.g., Brown, Comm. I, p. 410; Jesus is portrayed as the one in whom the Word of God was “personally present” (so Barrett, Comm., p. 385) or as the one “who transmits God’s words and his final and perfect revelation” (Schnackenburg, Comm. II, p. 311).

388. Cf. Calvin on vs. 36 (Comm. I, 276): “Christ is not openly and distinctly explaining what He is, as He would have done to His disciples. He is rather concentrating on refuting the slander of His enemies.”

389. Cf. ibid.: “Christ is not now discussing what He is in Himself, but what we should acknowledge Him to be from His miracles in human flesh. For we can never apprehend His eternal divinity until we embrace Him as the Redeemer revealed to us by the Father.”

390. So also Calvin on vs. 34 (Comm. I, 275): “Yet He fits His reply to the persons instead of explaining the matter fully, for He regarded it as sufficient at present to refute their malice. He hints indirectly, rather than expresses plainly, the sense in which He called Himself the Son of God.”

391. So Barrett, Comm., pp. 384f.; see also Strack/Billerbeck II, p. 543.

392. “John’s Citation of Psalm LXXXII,” NTS 11 (1965), pp. 158-62; “John’s Citation of Psalm LXXXII Reconsidered,” NTS 13 (1967), pp. 365ff.

393. As noted by Hanson, “John’s Citation of Psalm LXXXII Reconsidered,” pp. 365f.

394. On this see at length the comments above on 5:19.

395. “The works of the Father” presumably include both: “the total life work of Jesus, the revelation of the Father,” as in 14:10 (Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, p. 116).

396. καί: “and still.”

397. πιστεύετε, durative present.

398. ἵνα γνῶτε καὶ γινώσκητε; the aorist conveys the inchoative of the act, the present its durative form (cf. BDF §318). In place of γινώσκετε some manuscripts have πιστεύ(σ)ήτε, perhaps as a correction of a somewhat difficult text.

399. Nicol, Sēmeia in the Fourth Gospel, pp. 103ff., speaks of the witness of the miracles in the Fourth Gospel as a “second best.” Jesus’ word should be enough to persuade people,

but if that is not the case with some, as a result of their human weakness, Jesus gives the works as second best. This does not mean, however, that the miracles are a weak support for faith because the word ἔργον characterizes them as the works of God (5:17ff.). God knows the weakness of man and gave the miracles along with the Scriptures and John the Baptist as witnesses to Jesus (5:31-40, espec. 5:36). But the theme of testimony also reveals that the miracles are second best because according to 8:14 the testimony of Jesus’ word is actually sufficient.

It cannot be denied that the Fourth Gospel regards the meaning of faith in Jesus’ miracles ambivalently (cf. the comments on 4:47ff. above). But it is questionable whether the distinction between believing in Jesus and believing in his miracles is a distinction between words and works. At least in 10:38 believing in Jesus means believing in his person, his unity with the Father, etc. Faith in the miracles as witness of and to the Father is no less important than the witness of the Scriptures, the witness of John, and Jesus’ self-witness, just as “taken by themselves” none of these is enough to effect faith in Jesus as the Son of God.

400. πάλιν is lacking in a number of manuscripts; here it is to be translated “back” rather than “again”; the emphasis does not lie on a repeated going to the same place, but on returning to “where it all began.”

401. τò πρῶτον can mean “first, for the first time,” in distinction from other places where John had baptized, or simply “earlier.”

402. This utterance is apparently not directed to Jesus himself. The period before καὶ πολλοί can therefore be placed better after πρòς αὐτóν; so Bultmann, Comm., p. 394, n. 3.

403. And put in the mouths of the “many.” Cf. Bultmann, Comm., p. 394, n. 4.

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